Tumgik
#minors do not interact
barcaatthemoon · 2 days
Text
atlas || ingrid engen x mapi leon x reader ||
Tumblr media
mapi and ingrid help you relax after a rough week.
minors dni, 18+, smut ahead.
the physical and emotional weight of your workload was dragging you down. mapi was the first to realize it, and once she did, the first person she went to was ingrid. ingrid had a way of relaxing you that mapi knew she couldn't pull off. the woman had a tendency of being a little too energetic for that. however, it seemed that this time, ingrid couldn't really help you either.
they both hated it, but mapi and ingrid had no choice but to wait for all of you to be on a break to bring it up. a lot of things had been happening at barcelona, so you were very busy as social media director. your promotion had seemed like a blessing at first, especially since it meant that you could travel with your girlfriends everywhere that they went. however, all of that travel really cut into the time you had to organize everything else.
"i miss her," mapi sighed as she watched you fast asleep on the couch. it was obvious that you hadn't meant to fall asleep like that with your laptop and several notebooks open. you had been working, despite ingrid and mapi's insistence that you come with them out for the day. they had tried to have a good time, but mapi couldn't knowing that you were still in the apartment.
"it's been hard, especially on her. i mean, look at her," ingrid said as she nodded towards you. mapi let out a little whine as she looked at you. even in your sleep, the stress of your job was evident. they knew that this was temporary, mapi remembered when she first signed to barcelona years ago when you initially had been brought in as an intern. you always had a bit of a struggle starting out, but eventually, you'd find your footing.
"i could cry," mapi muttered quietly. ingrid had just barely heard her. if it was anybody other than you, ingrid would have been deleriously jealous of the way that mapi loved and cared for you. she knew that while mapi had been dating her for longer, you had been in her life longer. you were one of mapi's best friends first, and so, ingrid knew what to expect.
"we can let her sleep, and then do something special for her tonight," ingrid suggested. mapi nodded as she let ingrid pull her away from the living room. you slept the entire day away, waking up only when mapi physically picked you up and carried you into the dining room. you were still very tired as you ate, but the food did a lot to energize you a bit.
"what's the occasion?" you asked, not missing the way that both of your girlfriends were dressed up a bit more. mapi shrugged the question off as she tried to pretend that everything was normal. ingrid, however, was more than happy to give a reason for the little show.
"we are celebrating you, and all of the hard work you've been doing lately," ingrid said softly. she got up to carry your plate into the kitchen for you, kissing the top of your head as well as mapi's as she passed.
"i'm sorry if i haven't been very attentive," you apologized. mapi shook her head as she took your hands in hers. "i've been busy, and i know that you hate being left to your own devices. you need me too, not just the club."
"it's okay, i understand, i do. tonight, don't think about any of that. let ingrid and me take care of you, please bebita." if it wasn't for the way that mapi as looking at you, you might have gone back to your work for the night. "you've been working so hard."
"i'm so tired of it," you admitted. you sounded like you were on the verge of tears, so mapi did what she knew would help you calm down. she dropped your hands to grab your cheeks, pulling you in gently for a kiss. you kissed her back, moaning into it as you felt her deepen it. you sat forward in your seat, like you were prepared to crawl into her lap at any moment. the two of you could have kept going forever like that until ingrid interrupted you.
"come on, let's move this to the bedroom." ingrid guided the two of you away from the table. you broke the kiss with mapi once you were in ingrid's arms, turning your attention to her instead. ingrid picked you up and carried you into the bedroom, walking strong despite the kisses you were pressing to her neck. mapi followed behind ingrid, taking the opportunity to feel her up on the short walk to the bedroom.
ingrid laid you down on the bed gently, and mapi moved around her to get behind you. almost immediately, you could tell how the night would go. it was rare that they both focused solely on you, but you were grateful for the distraction. it wouldn't last forever, but they'd be taking a good amount of the weight of your work off from your shoulders from the night.
mapi's hands settled on your hips, squeezing gently as she peppered the side of your face in kisses. ingrid was laying between your legs, effectively pinning you against mapi's body as the two of them kissed you. it was a lot, but you were more than happy to just go along with whatever they wanted.
you trusted both women with your body completely. they knew the things that you liked, and sometimes, you swore they knew what you needed before you did. on your own, you would have tried to rush things, but they were taking things so slow with you. even mapi, who had a tendency to get a little ahead of herself in these situations.
they took their time undressing you and themselves. the feeling of their skin against yours made it hard for you to think. mapi could tell that you were having a hard time keeping up, so she backed away just enough for you to focus on ingrid. the taller woman kissed you slowly, but it wasn't without an almost overwhelming amount of emotion.
you didn't know how she did it, but ingrid always kissed you with her entire being. from every little peck as she left the apartment to the way she'd completely take your breath away. you swore that you could feel the love and concern ingrid had for you as she kissed you. it was enough for you to get a little lost in the feeling of her lips, but still gentle enough for you to easily slip away if you needed it. ingrid wouldn't judge you, knowing that occasionally you weren't up for this sort of thing when you were stressed.
"you look so pretty kissing ingrid," mapi whispered in your ear. she turned towards ingrid before she spoke up again, "you're taking such good care of our bebita, ingrid."
"i want more, please," you told them. mapi took that as her cue to come back a little more. her hands moved along your sides until you moved them onto your breasts. mapi's fingers teased your nipples as your hips ground against ingrid's thigh. ingrid bit her lip as she felt how wet you already were from just kissing them. it was going to be easy to get you to cum for the first time, and while ingrid wanted to spend all night between your legs, she wouldn't push you any further than what you could handle.
"do you want my fingers or my mouth, bebita?" ingrid asked you. she was usually adamant about not speaking spanish in the house, but that pet name had always stuck. technically, mapi had been calling you her bebita long before either of you had figured out your feelings for each other. ingrid remembered her hesitation about seeing mapi because of you, and in hindsight, she felt a little ridiculous about it now.
"mouth please," you answered. ingrid gave you one last kiss before she moved down to lay in between your legs. mapi turned your head towards her, pulling you into a gentle kiss as ingrid's hands came up to rest on the insides of your thighs.
unlike ingrid's kisses, mapi's rarely ever managed to stay as gentle as they started. the press of mapi's lips against yours quickly turned into something much firmer, not that you minded. you nipped at mapi's lip a little, which earned you a slightly rougher pinch to your nipple than before.
"mapi," ingrid warned. mapi's cheeks heated up at the warning. you bit your lip as she moved around your body to press a kiss to where she had just pinched you. ingrid watched as your hips bucked forward at the contact. she shot mapi a look, one urging for the tattooed woman to stay there until you pulled her back for more kisses.
"do you want this bebita?" mapi asked you. you could still feel enough of mapi's body behind you to feel safe and comfortable, but that need was quickly being replaced by the feel to feel both of their mouths on your body.
"please," you whined. mapi didn't need to be told twice, and she mvoed back in with her mouth at the same time as ingrid. mapi peppered your breasts with kisses as her fingers teased your nipples. ingrid's tongue was making lazy figure 8 motions in between your legs, just barely grazing along where you wanted her to. the two of them worked together well, almost perfectly in sync despite not having had to talk one another through anything.
"shh," mapi cooed softly as she lifted her head a little. the noises you were making quickly began to jumble together. you were whining and whimpering as you started to move more. ingrid didn't want to grab your hips and pin you down, so mapi took it upon herself to kiss you to calm you down. your nails scratched against the side of her face a little, but mapi didn't let it distract her from swallowing up every moan and whimper that threatened to escape from your lips. "you're doing so good, it's okay. let ingrid do her thing."
"fuck, fuck, fuck," you repeated again and again. mapi felt your body tense on top of hers, and that was when she knew you were gone. as loud as you could be while being fucked, you always went dead silent when you came. ingrid began to back away, stopping only when she heard you and mapi talking to each other. the little confessions of love after sex were secrectly mapi's favorite. if she was ever asked, you knew that she'd say something cocky about the way you looked cumming on her fingers or strap, but truthfully, she loved the way you curled into her as the two of you showered each other in love and adoration.
"rest now," ingrid said as she took the spot next to you on the bed. mapi slipped away to get something to clean you up with as you and ingrid lazily made out on the bed. you were so tired, enough so that you were ready to fall asleep right there in her arms. ingrid kept you awake and distracted enough for mapi to clean you up and pick out some clothes for all of you to wear to bed.
"thank you, i think i needed this," you mumbled against ingrid's chest. this time, ingrid laid in between you and mapi, both of you with your head resting against ingrid's chest. ingrid had one hand on mapi's back and the other in your hair, both of them scratching lightly. "i love you, both of you."
"we love you too," mapi told you. she reached over and twirled a strand of your hair around her finger.
"whenever you need us, don't hesitate to ask," ingrid said. you glanced up at her and smiled. you couldn't help it, there was rarely ever a time you could remember not smiling when you saw ingrid. "we'll always be here to take care of you, in whatever ways you need."
466 notes · View notes
guro-alien-bunny · 2 days
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
He is complete!
Next, I may do a little photoshoot with him. I'm just happy he has hair! X3
78 notes · View notes
babyotterboy · 20 hours
Text
sorry yall anon inbox submissions are revoked.. things got fuckin scary lmfao
again
minors
35+
it is not about YOU SPECIFICALLY BUT LEAVE ME ALONE
minors should not be in this space PERIOD it makes ME feel fucking gross. it’s dangerous for you. i am a literal fucking father and you guys actually make me wanna cry about how scary that is.
i get it. i WAS YOU THAT IS WHY I AM TELLING YOU TO STOP. it is DANGEROUS.
35+, this is a DNI inclusion not because i am unattracted to older men/trans masc people. i am. very. but i have. trauma.
disrespecting a DNI list is just not okay and i actually fuckin need to like take an hour because i’m steaming.
stop stepping on peoples boundaries.
i am not a toy. i am a person. with boundaries for a reason.
33 notes · View notes
tuiccim · 1 year
Text
PSA for New Users/Blank Blogs/Ageless Blogs
If you keep getting blocked from content creator blogs there are three major reasons and ways to fix them.
🚩🚩🚩This is a Huge RED flag!🚩🚩🚩
Tumblr media
1. Update your avatar. Anything besides the default picture.
2. Update your blog title and description. Add your age range, Minor, or 18+ to the blog title/description. "Untitled" is a red flag that you are a bot. Something as simple as "Here for the fanfic! 18+" will do it.
3. Reblog or post something to let us know you aren't just a bot. You can reblog some of your favorite content or make a post that just says "Human. Please don't block me!"
Please respect others' boundaries. If a blog says they are 18+, don't follow them if you are a minor. If a blog posts things you aren't interested in, unfollow or block them.
Most of all, be kind. Kindness costs nothing and means everything.
13K notes · View notes
Note
hey:D ‼️ slashers x a femme bimbo reader? i would love michael, tommy, vincent+ bo, and jennifer? (whoever else u choose is fine) please and thank you!
Bimbo S/O Headcanons | Multiple Slashers (18+)
Tumblr media
thank you for requesting, anon!
reader is assumed as being female and a bimbo
there’s no sex described, but there’s a lot of sexual talk around the reader, hence the smut tag
this includes : billy lenz, brahms heelshire, carrie white, jennifer check, michael myers, the sinclair twins & thomas hewitt
minors and ageless blogs will be blocked
billy lenz
billy is a pervert by nature and would have sexualised you irrespective of how you acted or what you wore (when there’s a will, there’s a way and all of that)
but you being a bimbo made it all so much easier and so much more enjoyable for the unknown voyeur
it seemed like everything you did have him an erection as he stared at you through cracks in the ceiling and walls and doors
how your short pink skirt would ride up and show your pretty panties whenever you bent over or sat down
how your tight white shirt did little to hide your breasts or the fact that you’d opted to go braless
the way you frequently stumbled and tripped in those pink heels — exposing your ass to him more often than even he could have wished for
all of that was enough of a dream come true, but the moment you picked up the phone and he got a true exposure to your delightfully ditzy and naively trusting persona this man was a goner
you were his dream-girl through-and-through
his pretty piggy who’s only good at taking billy’s thick cock into her dumb holes
his bimbo that has no chance of escaping him or his lewd calls and comments
of course you were his the moment you stepped foot in his house, but you continuously exposing yourself for him (as he perceived it, anyway) just gave him the go ahead to claim you entirely
and you’d best believe that he’ll want you dressing as sluttily as possible at all times
bo sinclair
although he tends to present himself as the perfect southern gentleman at first glance, bo is a verifiable pervert with pretty much no shame
it would have taken a remarkable amount of self restraint for him to keep up the act in front of your group — especially with you looking and acting like that
tight shirt, mini skirt and a body that he just wanted to lose himself in
god it was like you were made for him, but that could wait until he had splintered your group
but until then, he sated himself by glancing down your top whenever you leaned forwards, lifting up your skirt whenever he got the chance and catching you whenever you tripped (getting away with many less-than-innocent touches due to your obliviousness)
his advances get more and more aggressive and obvious as your group is picked off one by one until you’re the only one left untouched and somehow still oblivious to your situation
and bo finds himself torn between keeping you around as an alibi and a good fuck, or just using and discarding you to vincent as he’d done before
in the end, of course, he ends up deciding to let you live whilst putting on a whole show of wooing you so that you think you’re staying willingly — justifying it by saying you’ll help future “tourists” feel at home
but his brothers can tell that he’s grown more than a little fond of your presence (beyond, even, your sex appeal and naïveté — shockingly to all involved, he actually seems to care)
brahms heelshire
you were not what anyone in the heelshire family were looking for when they sought out a nanny
you were clumsy and naive; not being able to do much in education or housework without inevitably messing something up
you were a veritable slut without the intent; with tiny skirts and translucent shirts that could barely even be considered clothing and that certainly weren’t conducive with the image they wanted to present as a family
but, to brahms, you were perfect
the perfectly dainty damsel in distress for him to leer and gawk at from behind the walls as you went about your day hopelessly attempting to abide by his schedule
and whilst you frequently forgot certain rules, he let you off — equally because he knew you weren’t acting intentionally and because he loved watching you too much to let you go
his favourite times of day were those that necessitated you coming into contact with water or bending over because they gave him the most wonderful views of your body that often appeared in his masturbation fantasies
loves the way you coo over and jokingly scold his doll — actually just loves hearing you say his name and talk to “him”
is much more possessive and protective when it comes to anyone bringing supplies to the house because of, well, everything about you
like it’s all well and good having a pretty little thing with nice tits and ass to stare at all day and night, but issues arise when somebody else gets to look at what’s his
and even if you’re too ditzy and naive to recognise the grocery boy’s intentions, brahms is all too aware of what goes on in a man’s head
and he may just take it upon himself to show everyone, including you, what happens when someone touches what belongs to him
carrie white
carrie was brought up in a highly conservative christian background — so, needless to say, your presence itself would be a significant shock to the poor girl
everything about you is a complete upturning of the values she was raised with, from your personality to the way you dressed
god, the way you dressed was sin personified and every time she caught herself staring she’d mutter a quick prayer for forgiveness
tight white shirts, short pink skirts and high pink heels — a recipe for disaster that she found herself drawn to
those miniskirts would so frequently ride up your thighs and expose your tiny pink panties to anyone who dared to look whenever you stalled in readjusting them (though they were always short enough to expose those thighs of yours)
those shirts that would turn wonderfully transparent whenever you got even slightly damp (be that through rain or spillage) and exposed your otherwise bare chest to prying eyes
those heels that were the cause of so many incidents like those above
and, values be damned, she was more thankful for your obliviousness than anything else as she didn’t know what she’d do if you recognised the way her peers leered at you
how she looked at you with so much lust, with eyes that lingered too long to be innocent on your chest and the apex of your thighs and your ass
how she thought of you whenever she touched herself, one hand balled up in a fist that she bit down on to muffle herself whilst the other crept between her legs to toy with her puffy lips and swollen clit and seeping hole
you, in all of your naïveté and clumsiness, were at the centre of all of her fantasies and she wanted nothing more than to keep you in the dark about it all for as long as possible
jennifer check
you and her will almost inevitably end up sharing clothing and/or accessories because your styles match so well
date nights will consist of you sharing skincare routines and doing each other’s makeup
she uses your nature and appearance to her benefit, ramping up her sexuality with you in public to help lure in men for her to kill and feed on
she repays you with plentiful sex, affection and spoiling with money she gets from her “boyfriends”
will shamelessly ogle you whenever you lean forwards or bend over and gets a kick out of flustering you just as much as when she gets away with being a complete perv
gropes you in public like all of the time and usually plays it off as innocent or accidental — would stop if you asked, though
50/50 whether she lets you in on what she’s doing so you can help or strings you along as an accomplice
loves how oblivious you are and gets off on the power dynamic between you and her as the more experienced, dominant partner
buys you the most transparent, slutty, short clothes that she can find for you both so you can match, she can get food, and she can see as much of you as possible at all times
she will shift targets on a dime if she notices someone getting too close to comfort and taking advantage you in the same way she does — and she makes a point to show everyone that you’re very much so taken
makes you wear underwear that she chooses so anyone else ogling you gets a blatant reminder of who you belong to
michael myers (any)
initially michael found your demeanour more annoying and inconvenient than anything else
you were attractive, of course, but your clumsiness and obliviousness just made him frustrated — made him want to stalk you to force you to notice the word around you
and he did. for well over a month
even going into your home and standing over you as you slept, rearranging things in your house, anything to get you to notice that something was up
but you never did
even when he confronted you on your walk home and started following you, very obviously, you just chatted with him as if nothing was wrong and how much of a coincidence it was you were going the same way
you even complimented his mask — which immediately made you more tolerable
and almost made up for the dozen times he’d watched you trip over thin air or otherwise expose yourself to people unintentionally
after a while he even became somewhat protective, targeting people that were sexually aggressive or otherwise weird towards you to get his frustrations out before returning to his routine of stalking you
at one point he began to masturbate to the sight of you — which he’d never been able to do given his life being spent entirely in an institution with no privacy
he takes full advantage of your naïveté to tease and manipulate you, especially after you realise who he is
he just signs that he won’t hurt you if you let him stay with you and don’t tell anyone he’s there
and you oblige
and he doesn’t hurt you
the only real change is having to deal with him shamelessly staring at you all of the time, but after you get together you don’t really mind so it’s not really that big of a deal
thomas hewitt
everything about you seems perfectly engineered to turn this poor man into a flustered, red-in-the-face, 404-ing mess
you’re not exactly what his mother had raised him to look for in a woman but that made you somehow more attractive? like a forbidden fruit in a sense
your high high heels that you constantly tripped over weren’t exactly made for life in their rural town but your confidence in them made him reluctant to have you change
those teeny-tiny shorts and skirts left nothing to the imagination when it came to those smooth, long legs and those brightly coloured thongs you wore and caused him a lot of trouble whenever he caught a glimpse of you and ended up dropping his tools
your thin white shirts that hoyt always managed to get wet somehow were incredibly form fitting and gave him the perfect view of your chest
but whilst your body and sexuality haunted his mind and left him wanting and guilty when he’d reach between his legs for relief at the end of the day — it was your demeanour that captured his heart and endeared him to you
your naïveté kept you up and out of the way of the family’s dirtier dealings and meant they didn’t have to hide anything too hard as you believed whatever they promised to you
he felt bad for lying but he also knew it was a necessary evil
and your clumsy nature meant that any guests felt more at ease around you, joking around and letting their guard down to flirt with you which made his job a whole lot easier
so, needless to say, you were definitely a good investment for the family even if you kept unintentionally torturing poor thomas with your displays of sexuality and femininity throughout the house
vincent sinclair
you immediately caught vincent’s eye when you entered ambrose because of how different you were from your companions
your clothes were more revealing and feminine: all light colours, cropped edges, frills, pastels and the whole nine yards
definitely a far cry from the muted neutrals and heavy jumpers that he usually saw
more artistically inspiring, barbie like even
it made you attractive, certainly, but it also made him want to preserve you as an art piece even more — he wanted to capture your beauty permanently
but then your personality endeared you to him
you were immediately kind and trusting towards his twin, which painted you as a very naïve person but the genuine way you defended him and scolded your friends for interrupting the “funeral” caught his heart
hell, even bo seemed taken a back by your demeanour (before trying to look down your shirt, of course)
and then there was the clumsiness that gave him the perfect view of each and every angle of your body that those short, tight clothes did little to hide as you stumbled and tripped over your heels in the museum
even gentlemen have their limits and, from what he justified as artistic curiosity, he indulged himself in plenty of looks
you even made him chuckle a few times when you apologised to the figures you fell onto
all of it, to him, made you seem so much better than your companions — someone worth saving and keeping as a living art piece in ambrose
it wouldn’t be hard to convince his brothers, they were always talking about needing some company
and, beside, you didn’t strike him as the sort to be hard to lie to
so if you believed your friends abandoned you, maybe you’d be happy to stay with them — and, maybe, you’d never have to learn about the truth of ambrose and it’s wax museum
and he’d get to ogle you all he liked from behind the safety of his mask (only as an artist, of course! he’d never sexualise you… or at least he tries to claim as much to himself)
6K notes · View notes
markster666 · 2 months
Text
ALASTOR X FEM!READER (SMUT/18+) - Good To Be Back on The Air!
Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader
Tags: Humiliation, public, porn without much plot, shameless smut, 18+, Chains, Ownership, Possessive, Pet names, Dom and Sub, etc
Fandom: Hazbin Hotel
Word Count: 654
A/N: Love the idea of Alastor broadcasting a mf live while pleasuring them. Enjoy. Unedited, so apologies for any spelling mistakes. (Minors please click away)
Tumblr media
Alastor has always wanted to show off his prized possession: you. He wanted to make people WISH they could even look in your general direction without possible harm from The Radio Demon. If Alastor had mind reading abilities and could hear somebody even think they had a chance with you, he'd split them in half within seconds.
You were his and he was about to make that abundantly clear to a large audience.
Alastor's voice boomed throughout the hotel as he yelled your name, ushering you to come to him. You quickly got up from your task and rushed up to meet him in his radio tower, opening the door and closing it behind you.
Alastor was reclined in his broadcasting chair, final checking his microphone and equipment for today's broadcast.
"Hello, my Dear!" he said as he swiveled around to face you, his legs crossed and his fingers tapping his knee mischeviously. "Do I have a special treat for you today."
You were about to ask him what he had in mind before the chain that binded you to him appeared around your neck. You fell to the ground from the sudden force and he started pulling the chain towards himself.
"Crawl to me." he commanded.
You nodded and crawled towards him, as he kept tightening the chain. You stopped at his feet and he stopped winding up the chain.
"Such a good girl! Now... open wide and listen to me, Doll."
You opened your mouth and he slipped his thumb inside, caressing the side of your face with the rest of his hand.
"I'm heavily inclined to give my lovely loyal listeners a real treat during today's broadcast. I want them to hear those beautiful noises you make for me. Do you think you can do that for me, Doll?"
You nodded your head, whimpering as you do so.
"Good! Now strip."
You did exactly as you were told and stripped naked.
He undid the zipper on his pants, pulling you up by your chain so that you could straddle his lap. He wouldn't let you sit on his cock yet, so you just grinded against his thigh.
"What a needy little dear you are! Give me one second." He kissed your cheek before he started his broadcast.
"Salutations ladies and gentlemen! What a wonderful night to be with you all, as I have a very special guest with us tonight! Usually I keep this one ALL to myself, but, I'm feeling rather generous! I think you'll find her pretty little noises music to your ears."
At that, he pulled your chain so that you were right over his cock before slamming into you directly to the hilt, making you scream out in pain and pleasure.
Alastor held his microphone staff next to your head to pick up the sounds better. He started thrusting up into you at a very rapid pace, growling and nipping at your throat in the process.
Your moans caused a lot of feedback into the microphone from how loud you were.
The Radio Demon bucked up into you like it was the last time he'd ever feel Heaven again in his entire life. He tugged your chain so your foreheads touched, him forcing you to keep eye contact with him.
"Cum for me princess. Cum for the audience. Show them how I OWN YOU."
At that, you screamed out his name and came all over his cock and he came at the same time. He didn't loosen his grip on the chain as you rode out your high.
He brought the microphone back up to him.
"Thanks for listening folks! Hope that brought a wonderful smile on all of your hellish faces. Ta-Ta!"
He turned off the broadcast and kissed your cheek tenderly.
"That's my good girl."
Also Vox was listening in on the broadcast and now he's crying alone into his Alastor body pillow so yeah
2K notes · View notes
yawnderu · 3 months
Text
misogyny, incel!König, anal sex, pussy slapping, slut shaming. MDNI
Incel!Roommate!König is so nasty and mean :( he knows you're nothing but a slut just like your friends, having to live with hearing you getting fucked by other men. It doesn't matter if it's not often or if it's always with the same guy, you're still giving it up to someone you're not dating and that's enough to make you a whore in his eyes :(
He refuses to fuck your pussy, calling you a filthy girl while his cock is plunging deep into your tight ass. Your cunt is too used up and loose for him, don't dare tell him that's not how anatomy works!! he's a much smarter and stronger man, he obviously knows better than you :((
Incel!Roommate!König has no mercy as he fucks into your ass, pulling out only to slap your cunt until it's raw and sensitive. It's the punishment you get for giving it up to other men :(( if you want to be a whore, he has no problem treating you like one.
Maybe he'll even call his friends from the military and get them to come use you like the filthy little mutt you are, making your body count even higher than it already is and leaving you with a cum-filled, loose cunt <3
2K notes · View notes
sweethoneycn · 1 year
Text
Sugar Daddy
Jake Sully x adoptive reader based off this request
⚠️minors DO NOT interact⚠️
Plot: Reader has a small crush on her adoptive father Jake. Little to her knowledge his feelings were reciprocated. He couldn’t help himself when he had to share the same bed as her…
Warnings: p in v, thigh fucking, somnophilia kink!!!, sleeping reader, small daddy kink
Writers comments: I’m so sorry to whoever requested this. I had the worst writers block and had to rewrite this fic multiple times. But I hope you like at least. Thanks for reading!
“Any plans for tonight?” Jake asks you. Cleaning his gun as he sat across from you. Before he spoke the room was filled with nothing but silence, you often found it difficult to speak with him. You had the biggest crush on him, constantly finding yourself staring at him - but being careful not to get caught.
“Mm not really, was gonna make some jewelry with Kiri and come back home” you stand to your feet, handing him his cleaning rod he was looking around aimlessly for, smiling at him when he took it from your hands.
My Eywa that smile, you thought.
“That sounds like a plan there honey bun” he giggled. Turning his attention back to his gun. You blushed when you realized that no matter how much you tried to make sense around him. You just couldn’t, he made you too nervous.
Deep down you knew these feelings were wrong. He was your adoptive father, and still married at that! It became some sick fantasy of yours to sleep with him, to take him from his wife and have your way with him when you wanted. Nonetheless, you refused to act upon your desires. Holding back with everything you had because you cared for your adoptive family. They took you in when no one else would. It just so happened it was the man who you were absolutely in love with.
“Right.. I guess it does” you say awkwardly. Standing in the middle of the room as you watched him tend to his weapon. The sight turned you on. He was so good with it. You’ve watched him fire it countless times and every time is still like you’ve never seen it before. It was never something that you didn’t enjoy watching.
“Baby girl.. you’re doing that thing again” he giggled. You didn’t realize it but you were gawking. Eyes glued to him. You shook your head away in embarrassment, trying to now hide the cheeks that began to blush. The last thing you needed was for him to grow suspicious of you. “S-sorry” you mutter. “The gun is just so cool”
Jake's laugh turned into a surprised yet satisfying look. Almost as if he were excited that you found his firearm interesting. “Wanna hold it?” He asks. Standing to his feet, holding the gun carefully. Your eyes darted back and forth, a small panic starting to set it. You’ve never held one before - but curiosity got the best of you. “Yeah.. sure”
Jake smiles, handing you the gun. You grab it with both hands, gripping the chunk of metal hard so you don’t drop it. He moves behind you, pushing his back into yours. Your breath caught in your throat, deciding to hold it in out of fear you’d give your arousal away. You watch as his strong arms come from behind you. Pulling the gun up and placing the butt against your shoulder. He positions your right arm under it, wrapping your hands around the trigger mechanism.
“Okay first things first, never put your finger on the trigger unless you’re going to fire. Safety first” he brings his other hand around your left arm, showing you where you grip the barrel. And just like that you were holding a gun. “This is so cool” you say. Looking behind you and up at him with the biggest smile. He returns it, nodding his head that you pay attention.
“See this here” he points to the scope. “Look through that.. tell me what you see” he says. You do as you're told, closing one eye to squint through the scope. Looking closely you can see that it’s focused on a basket. You could see every fiber of the shaven wood, the intricate designs and paints. It was fascinating. “Whoa, Jake, that's so cool! I can see everything!” In the midst of your excitement, you lost your hand placement. Almost dropping the gun on the ground. But Jake was quick, catching it before it fell.
“Sorry!” You say. Letting go of the gun so that he could take it. He smiles, putting it back in its place. “It’s fine, don’t be sorry. Things pretty heavy” he turns his attention back to you, standing tall above you. With the amount of times he’s stood like this in front of you, you’ve been able to memorize every curve of his muscles, every dimple and beauty mark. And just like that you were staring again.
“What’s got you so distracted? Am I pretty or somethin’?” He says. Flexing his biceps to tease you. Causing you to blush once more. “No.. I-I mean yes! Wait no.. that’s not what I meant, you are pretty just not.. pretty pretty..” you struggle to make sense as you always did, blabbering like you were caught in a mountain of lies. “Sorry..” you say, dropping your gaze from his. All Jake could do was laugh, you were always like this. So shy and passive, he was curious if there was a warrior in there. So he often found himself teasing you. Innocent ‘fatherly’ love.
“Y/n relax it was a joke, I know.. dads old.” He walks over to you, brushing a piece of hair behind your ear before leaning down to place a soft kiss on your forehead. To him you thought it was an innocent gesture between the adoptive father and daughter - but to you, you wanted to jump his bones at this very moment. “Right.. I’m uh, gonna go find Kiri” you say. Saying your goodbyes before excusing yourself.
As you walked to your sisters hut, you couldn’t get the thoughts of him pressed against you out of your mind. You’d wished he was pressed against something else. Knowing that you shouldn't be feeling this way, you tried to clear your head before going to Kiri. No longer wanting Jake to be in your mind before you saw her.
Jake was beside himself, he loves teasing you. Playing around until you let that wall down and finally let a laugh loose. He loved seeing you happy and satisfied. He also couldn’t stop thinking about your tiny fingers holding his gun, or the way you giggled when you looked through the scope. This wasn’t the first time something about you made him curious. There were many times about you had him questioning whether or not he was losing his mind. Wondering if he was some sick pervert for finding you to be irresistible. He was married, with children. Not to mention you were 15 years his junior and he was raising you like his own.
He couldn't help the fact that you were in fact not related to him. So he couldn’t control his eyes when they started to wonder. Yes he had Neytiri, and he loved her dearly. But there was just something about you that he couldn’t ignore. Most of the time just like you, choosing to ignore it.
—-
You spent the day with Kiri, making jewelry and talking about anything. You enjoyed your time with her, she reminded you that it was okay to be yourself. Plus you needed something to get your mind off of her father.
The sun had gone away, being hidden by the moon as eclipse set in. Finding your way back home for bed. Neytiri was helping mo’at deliver a baby and since the mother was having a hard time, she gave the family a heads up that you all had to fend for yourselves tonight.
Stepping through the doors of your family home, you walk on light toes, not wanting to wake your brothers. Jake heard your shuffling, waking out of his sleep to see what was going on. You weren’t as silent as you thought you were being.
“Hey” he whispers to you. Waving his hand toward him, signifying to come to him. You were confused for a moment until you saw someone sleeping in your cot. You couldn’t see the body under your blankets. You walked over to him, stepping over Lo’ak until you made your way to Jake. He cups the side of his mouth waving you downward to place your ear within hearing range. You do so, leaning down. “Neteyam has his mate here, her parents don't want them alone” he whispered. “You can sleep here, or with Lo’ak”
You look back at Lo’ak, spread eagle with drool coming from his mouth. Watching in horror as he snores in his sleep, you immediately turn your head towards Jake. “I think I’ll pass on him, are you sure it’s okay for me to crash here?” You whisper. Searching his eyes for any form of doubt.
Jake smiled, opening his blanket for you. His usually heavily armed body now bare with just his loincloth to cover himself. You gulped hard but moved quickly to climb in with him turning your back to him as you slid in beside him. “It’s cold anyways, better to keep each other warm” he says, adjusting his hips away from you. Making you as comfortable as possible. “What about Lo’ak?”
Jake laughs quietly, leaning his head down to whisper in your ear. “Look at him, kid is a furnace” he was right, Lo’ak was always hot, especially at night. There was pretty much a pool of sweat under him even in the chilly weather. You laughed to yourself, laying your head on the pillow below you. “I guess you’re right”
Nuzzling in next to him, you try your best to make yourself smaller. Not wanting to press your body against him. But Jake was right, the night air was freezing and you needed warmth. Jake noticed your shivering and your small hands wrapped around yourself to keep warm. Innocently, he pulls you into him. The action immediately making you panic. “W-what are you doing?” You whisper, attempting to move away from him. “You’re freezing” he says. Keeping you firmly against his body. The warmth from his torso soothes you almost instantly.
You couldn’t deny that the feeling of him pressed against you made your insides tingle. This was the closest you’ve ever been with him, let alone wrapped around in arms to keep warm. Your breaths began to pick up feeling his fleeting muscles relaxed lazily around your waist. The weight of it is like a blanket in itself. Jake noticed the intensity of your breathing. “You alright?” He lifts his head to look at you, leaning up on his arm to see your face. “Y-yes.. I’m fine” you reply. The words you spoke coming out in a stutter.
“Try to get some sleep baby girl” he lays his head back down, leaning forward a bit to rest his head against the back of your neck. There were more things Jake grew curious about when it came to you. It wasn’t just the way you looked or acted, it was your scent as well. Sweet like the morning sun that bloomed fresh spring flowers, earthy like the soil that squished under his feet. The smell of you was intoxicating. When he got a good whiff, he couldn’t help the low groan that came out of his mouth, he was mortified - but by the sound of your slow breathing, you were already fast asleep. His cover remained secure.
Before he knew it he was falling asleep to the smell of you. Pulling you into him as close as he could get you. Soaking in the warmth of your body against his own.
—-
Jake woke in the night from loaks snoring. Throwing a pillow at him to shut up but to no avail. He slumped on his back, irritated since he had a long day ahead of him. But the sun was still asleep, darkness completely engulfing the room around him. He was almost lost in thought until he remembered the much smaller body pressed up against him. Your head nuzzled into his neck, your arms and legs thrown over his torso. He smiled looking down at you, listening to you coo in your sleep. So adorable.
In an attempt to go back to sleep he tried moving you off of him, but this proved to be the wrong move. You pulled him in tighter, moving up just slightly until your lips were inches from his. Your soft breath escaping past your parted lips, bushing over his. His stomach trembled as he watched you, your soft beautiful skin so nice under his touch. He rubbed your shoulder slowly, watching as your lips quivered in your sleep. He thought to himself one kiss wouldn’t hurt. You would never know, it was his only opportunity to act on his strongest desires.
Without thinking he leaned down, planting a soft kiss against your lips. Pulling away quickly. You didn’t wake, still fast asleep against him. He took it as a sign to try once more, one not being enough for him. He kissed you again, pressing more firmly into you. Deepening the kiss as best as he could without waking you. Unconsciously, you leaned into him, moaning into his mouth. The dream you were having about him becoming real as he kissed you softly.
Jake pulls away admiring your face, scanning every inch of it. Your hold tightened around his waist. Gripping his skin with your fingers. His hands roamed too, feeling the small of your back - running small circles with his fingers against you. He couldn’t hold back any longer. Hooking his finger under your loincloth and pulling it down to your ankles. His movements were so gentle that you didn’t rise from your sleep. You shifted a little, turning around until your ass was facing him. Pushing it backwards towards him.
He watched as your cheeks wiggled as you attempted to get closer, every move you made threatening to press against his growing erection. “Fuck” he whispers. Scooting closer to you. Finally breaking that distance in between you. Pressing his cock against your bare ass. He palmed himself, pulling his loincloth to the side as his hard cock strang free. Itching to get the friction that it needed. He needed to fuck you, no matter how wrong it was.
Soft whimpers left your throat. Whatever dream you were having proved to be a wet one. His head spun as the soft sounds left you, only growing his arousal even more.
Gripping his cock at the base, he taps it against your ass lightly. Instantly making him harder. “I want to fuck you.. so bad baby girl” he whispers. Wanting you to just wake up and give it to him. However, he didn’t know if you’d react the way he wanted. You just might freak, waking the entire house. So he moved slowly, sliding his cock in between your legs. The warmth in between them sending a shiver down your spine. “Uhhh..” he moans lowly. His head falling back as your thighs swallowed him.
Jake began to thrust into your thighs slowly, his length so large that his tip and some of the shaft came out on the other side. Pulling all the way back just to slide back in. Suddenly you began to move your hips pushing your ass back towards him. He watched you fuck him with your thighs, his hand gripping your hip as they moved. He leaned up to your ear. “I want you to wake up so daddy can fuck this pussy” he whispered, licking your ear.
You shifted against him. Rising out of your sleep slowly. “Y/n..” he whispered. “Y/n wake up” his hips began to pick up their pace, his orgasm so close but he wanted the real thing. Wanted to feel you tightly wrapped around him as your pussy squeezed his seed out of him until his lungs collapsed. “Come on baby.. wake up for me” your eyes flickered open, feeling groggy as your sleep still consumed you. You weren’t fully awake until you felt hips snapping into you. Looking down only to find a large cock sliding in and out between your legs. Just then you remember who you laid in bed with. Turning your head back to look at him.
“Jake…” you moan. Still wondering if the wet dream you had of him was playing in your head. Like some sort of suck trick. “I need to feel you.. please” he pleads. Gripping the supple skin on your thighs. Halting his thrust as he was close to cumming.
It didn’t take much thinking, this was all you’ve wanted for years. You turn your attention back to his cock, watching as the tip leaked precum. Your hand falling to his length and pumping what you could. “Then take me” you whisper, looking back up at him. Jake crashes his lips into yours, inhaling sharply with the kiss. He threw the blanket off your body, lifting your leg up, his elbow resting under your knee. Your aching pussy now exposed to the cool air. You moan, throwing your head back into his shoulder as you broke the kiss.
Jake's cock stood at attention, probing your entrance. You could feel the tip almost slide when suddenly. Lo’aks snores ceased, causing you both to freeze. You both stared, waiting for him to wake but he never did. Jake took it as his opportunity to continue. Pushing the tip of his cock past your swollen lips, breaking the seal of your hymen. He moans at your tightness, his head falling in the nook of your neck. “I didn’t know you were a virgin baby” you winced at the pain, biting your lip. His girth almost too much for you to handle - but Jake was gentle. Pulling back just a little before sliding more of himself into you. Your pain quickly turned to pleasure, a soft moan leaving your mouth the more he sunk into you.
“Shhh, baby girl.. don’t wanna wake your brothers now do we” he whispered. Sliding completely into you until your ass was flush with his lower belly. You covered your mouth with your hand, attempting to cover up your moans. Your pussy was soaked for him, fluttering around his length. He was so big. Jake felt you squeeze him, pulling out only to deliver the strongest, most firm thrust in creation. The tip of his cock slapping against your cervix. “Uhh!” You moan aloud, quickly covering your mouth to not wake neteyam and Lo’ak. But you couldn’t help it. You couldn’t help but think about how wrong this was, how guilty you felt for allowing a married man to find his home between your legs. How could you face Neytiri again?
The thoughts didn’t last long when Jake snaked his large hand around your neck, pulling your head back until your ear was against his lips. “Fuck.. you’re so tight. So fucking tight for me” jakes speed picked up, causing your skin to slap against his. He almost didn’t care to be caught anymore. He was so close and had to feel every inch of you until it was ripped from him. “J-Jake” his name came out stuttered. His pace proving to be too much for you to spreak properly. You could feel your belly tighten below you, your pussy refusing to relax as it squeezed his cock more. You touched yourself enough to know you were close. “I-I’m gonna” you moaned. Pushing your ass back into him.
“Yeah? Gonna cum? I wanna feel it, let me feel it” he moaned. Angling his hips just right, causing your orgasm to run your body like a marathon. You began to shake violently against him as it coursed through you. “C-cu cumming!” You declare. Your eyes rolling in the back of your head.
“Ohh yes.. cum. Cum on my cock baby” jakes thrusts became erratic. Only moments away from exploding himself. What sent him over the edge was your tiny hand coming behind you to grip his waist, using your strength to push his hips into you. Wanting him desperately to fill you up. “Gonna make me cum… oh my god baby” he yanks your head back. Kissing you with a feverish pace. “Where do you want it.. tell me” he says. You let out the breath you were holding. Able to answer. “I-inside…” you moan.
Without warning he shoots his load into you. The nerves in his face forcing his eyes shut as he came. He couldn't believe he got to cum inside your pretty little pussy. “F-fuckk uh! Oh yeah.. cuming in this tight little pussy. You feel that? Feel me filling you up? You choke on air, your mouth hanging open as you felt his seed fill your womb. Feeling full finally. “Y-yessss”
His cock twitched inside you, releasing the last of his seed. He continued to shiver against you, leaning down to whisper in your ear softly.
“Good girl”
5K notes · View notes
therealmrsgojo · 9 days
Text
Gojo Satoru being drunk-in-love
Tumblr media
Your body trembles with pleasure as Gojo Satoru's fingers work on your clit. You're lost in the moment, your words slurred and incoherent as you feel yourself being pushed toward the edge of ecstasy.
Your eyes roll back into your head, and you let out a series of high-pitched moans as he continues to hold you down, his touch sending shivers down your spine.
As he whispers those three words, "I love you," tears glisten in the corners of his eyes. You can barely hear him over the sound of your own ragged breathing, but the words hit you like a ton of bricks.
"I love you," He repeats it again, this time with his chest, and you feel his tears splatter onto your chest as he whimpers. Your heart swells with emotion, and you feel a deep connection to him in this moment.
"I love you so much, Y/N." His thumb increases its speed on your clit, you gasp sharply at his confession, your head spinning with a mix of pleasure and overwhelming emotion.
You can feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, and you know that he's not far behind you. He finally reaches his own peak, and you feel him pump you full and collapse onto you, his head resting on your collar as you both catch your breaths.
But as he begins to get hard again, his shoulders tensing with anticipation, you know that this is far from over.
"More, 'Toru," you whisper, "I want more."
"I'm going to break you, my sweet girl." and you know he means it in the best way possible.
Tumblr media
note: alexa play - slut (taylor swift)
876 notes · View notes
forbidden-sunlight · 3 months
Text
yandere!holy knight with saintess!reader scenario [part one]
Tumblr media
Warnings: obsessive behavior, religious themes, implied manipulation, brief mention of suicidal thoughts/ideation.
There may be possible triggers in this story.
If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, please hit the 'back' button on your mobile device or computer and read something much more pleasant than a possible series of unfortunate events.
You are responsible for your own
Internet consumption!
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!
Hey guys, before we get started, I’d like to address a couple of things.
First, the content here is a bit darker than my previous works, as stated in the warnings above. If you or someone you know is struggling, you aren’t alone. There are many support services that are here to help. I will leave a link to some of these sources in this link here. Tumblr also has their messaging system, Kokobot. I want you guys, my audience to feel safe when reading my stories. If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, that’s okay. Please prioritize your physical and mental health, above all else.
Second, bullying is not tolerated. If I see any sign of it on here, I will have no choice but to take this story down. Finally, there will be some references in here from The Locked Tomb series by Tamsyn Muir, such as Harrowhark and Palamedes. I claim no ownership over this magnificent series as it belongs to the rightful creator.
With that being said guys, sit back, relax....and perhaps begin to pray for salvation. Because this is past the point of no return :)
Part Two
Part Three
Yandere!Holy Knight had always believed he was meant to serve a greater purpose. Not to accumulate wealth and power like his older brother, only to abuse his authority and hurt people who did not deserve a whipping for a cup of tea that was two degrees too cold to his liking. No. He wanted to help others in his own way, without expecting anything in return. Perhaps…that was why it had been so easy to leave his family and find his place here in the Holy Temple of Aesir. Or it was because he is the second son, the spare heir to the Emery viscounty, that his parents allowed him to leave without so much as a second thought. 
He had given up his name when he was baptized by the high priest, and was reborn as Sir Palamedes. Five years have passed, and he has ascended to becoming the vice commander of the Holy Temple’s paladins.He must protect the Holy Temple, its clergy, and the people of the Helux Empire. This is the oath he took, and is proud to uphold. Yandere!Holy Knight, however, wished the Reverend Sister would take better care of herself. 
The Reverend Sister is a title given to the child chosen by Aesir to deliver His message and protect His children from the wicked monsters who come forth from the swirling, black puddles of miasma. Only the Reverend Sister’s magic can purify the darkness of such an ancient evil. In his mind, there is no one more fitting to being the Reverend Sister than you. Harrowhark. 
God’s Beloved. 
The Possessor of Aesir’ All Seeing Eyes. 
The Holiest Woman in the World.
There are many monikers tied to you. All of them are true, and all of the rumors couldn’t be further from the truth when the bards sang songs of your innocence, your enchanting beauty and ‘swan like neck’. If you had ever heard these lyrics, you would promptly take off your shoe and throw it at them with a low, irritated hiss before stomping away in a huff. 
 Yandere!Holy Knight would probably try very hard to not laugh at seeing, or at least imagining, your annoyance. 
Yes, you were the Reverend Sister  but you were not a naive beauty as everyone believed you to be. You were grumpy, diligent, kind-hearted, and knew the world can be a dark, cruel place. 
The Holy Temple of Aesir had saved you in your darkest hour; instead of throwing yourself into the cold, murky river as a means to escape from the wretched place you had come from, a low-ranking priest had found you. He took you in, taught you everything there is to know about prayer, penitence, and how to embrace the worst part of yourself  even when you wanted to so badly rip it out because it is still part of you. What you had experienced, the hardships, the sorrows…that is life. And to understand that no mortal is perfect, to accept it and use the gifts Aesir had bestowed upon you to help others…that is when you will truly see how beautiful the world is through His Eyes. 
His Eyes that you now possessed. 
No one had dared to look upon them in fear of incurring Aesir’s wrath…yet Yandere!Holy Knight did when he was in the Holy Temple’s care for a year before you arrived, a young man at the age of fifteen. He saw them and thought they looked like a pair of jewels. Sapphires that glowed brightly under the sunlight, and could see everything. Past, present, and future for a brief time. Due to the physical and mental strain that these Eyes have placed on your body even when it was to create illusions or obscure the sight of magical beasts, you weren’t allowed to overuse them. That was why the High Priest insisted that you wore a veil over your face.
You opted to have the seamstress to make adjustments to your mother-of-pearl robes and add a hood to hide yourself from the world. You might have also bribed her to create a matching cloth to wear over your eyes, enchanted so that you could see through it without putting further strain on your vision. 
Rebellious. But you were perfect in Yandere!Holy Knight’s eyes. A Reverend Sister who cared for the congregation, the people, and his men far more than she lets others believe. 
He thought this peaceful life would continue as it had for the last ten years. To watch you from afar and know that you were safe so long as he still held a sword in his hands. But nothing lasts forever. 
One day, the High Priest had cloistered the clergy in the temple’s pews and announced that Aesir had shown him in a vision that the Reverend Sister who had been with them for these past ten years was not the true child of the Creator. It is in fact the young lady standing at his side. A dainty, beautiful lady with pale blue hair that fell past her back, gentle robin’s egg eyes darting from the carpeted floor to the clergy and then to the High Priest. She wore a  strapless white dress with matching gloves that stretched all the way to her elbows. Pear-shaped dangled from her ears, and black lace with a single blue rose attached to the side coiled around her swanlike throat.This stranger, this…noblewoman, is all but ready to accept her duties. From this moment forward, she would be known as Esther. 
“Let it be known, Brothers and Sisters, that the one known as Harrowhark shall be sent into exile for her sins against Aesir. That is the will of the Creator, so let it be so.” 
Yandere!Holy Knight’s heart plummeted into the pit of his stomach at the High Priest’s words. What? He thought. This cannot be true! You are the Reverend Sister, you are God’s Beloved! Why would this man (this fool a nasty voice in the back of his mind growled) deny it now? Ten years. For ten long years, you have been a faithful bride of the Holy Temple. Now, after everything you have down, the recklessness in trying to sacrifice your life for his men on missions, reaching out to the people and listening to them confess their sins in the prayer box because you did not wish to see them suffer and try to offer guidance without overstepping your boundaries….you would just be cast aside as if you were nothing to them? To the Holy Temple, to him?
No. Yandere!Holy Knight cannot and will not accept it. He knows the High Priest. He knows this man would never dare to do something so stupid lest he will incite the anger of the clergy, the people, and the Emperor himself, who is a religious man and knows the Reverend Sister. 
Something is not right. 
He was not the only one who believed it. You did too. You had told him as much later that night, when you found him at the training grounds, trying to relieve his anger by practicing his swings with his two-handed longsword. You were still here. You hadn’t left like the High Priest had ordered you to do so. Thank Aesir. 
If he were a lesser man, he would have scooped you up in his arms and laughed joyously, waking up everyone else in the barracks and gotten smacked across the face for pushing past your five-foot rule. But he didn’t.
Tumblr media
You had not been blessed with His Eyes just to pretend that you will unconditionally obey the High Priest’s request to leave and be branded a heretic, a false Reverend Sister, for the rest of your life. No. The woman who will be baptized as Reverend Sister Esther and become God’s Beloved is not who the High Priest believes she is, regardless that this chain of events are happening because of a vision. 
All the sacred texts in the library, all the prayers you have had to learn by heart, not a single one of them contained the words Affection Level. It did not explain why those floated over this stranger’s head, why its dark-pink smoke was encircling the High Priest, a man who possessed just as much holy magic as you did, if not more due to age and experience. You had strained your sight,  vision becoming blurry just to see what was the thing under Affection Level. It was…a bar with lines? Measured in tenth percentiles, from ten to one hundred? What is this sorcery? It isn’t anything you have ever seen before, not even when you have visited monasteries across the Empire for yearly sabbaticals. How did this woman attain it? 
This magic did not possess the gentle warmth of Aesir’s touch, his love towards all creation without expecting anything in return. 
Take. Take. Take. Conquer. Move on. Take. 
That was what you could feel, and you had no doubt in your mind at that very moment, the High Priest’s words going from one ear and out the other. There is an evil presence in the Holy Temple of Aesir. This woman, Esther, is a harbinger. An anchor. She was tied to this evil and she was reveling in it as if she had finally, finally gotten what she desired without lifting a finger. And that terrified you more than anything, the possibility that this sorcery can brainwash the entire congregation and no one would be the wiser. 
Shit. What the fuck is going on? Forgive me, Aesir, for saying such vulgar words in your sacred House, but what the ever-living fuck is going on?
If the sight of seeing this Affection Level  and its abilities did not rattle your bones, it was seeing two tiny names hidden right under the meter. The High Priest…and Sir Palamedes. And inside tiny square boxes right, no, on the left side of their names were the words capture target. 
Tumblr media
Yandere!Holy Knight stared at you in disbelief, your confession of what you had seen earlier this afternoon ringing in his ears. “You believe that this woman will bring harm to the Holy Temple, Sister Harrowhark?” He said. “If that is true, then why would the High Priest risk the safety of the congregation? Is it because of the influence of this…Affection Level? And why is my name there?” He was aghast. “How could anyone think of conquering someone if they do not consent to it or do not desire such a thing?”
Like the Brothers and Sisters of the Holy Temple, he had taken a vow of chastity alongside the oaths to protect them and the countrymen. Only clergymen or paladins who were high-ranking would be allowed to marry so long as the union was approved by both the High Priest and the Emperor. 
You blinked at him, jeweled eyes glowing in sympathy as you slowly shook your head. “I do not know, truly. But if Reverend Sister Esther is coming after you, then you must put your safety and well-being above all else. Even my own.” You put your gloved hands in your mother-of-pearls robes, digging around in the pockets before you pulled out a drop-shaped peridot on a silver chain. You placed it in his open palm, and pushed his fingers forward to clench the hand into a loose fist. 
Murky, violet orbs looked at you in confusion, astonishment, and fear. “Lady Harrowhark?” He whispered. 
“Keep this on you, Sir Palamedes. The holy magic stored in here should be able to protect you from whatever this evil is, or at least I hope so. I was able to persuade the High Priest to postpone the announcement of Reverend Sister Esther’s baptism and my exile until after the Festival of the Stars. That will give us one week, while the others are celebrating Aesir’s creation of the world, to find everything we need to know about the Affection Level and how to remove it from Sister Esther before it can corrupt anyone else in the congregation.” You then stepped away from him, turning your back towards Yandere!Holy Knight and throwing the hood of your robe over your head.
 “Recite your prayers, steady your hand, and for Aesir’s sake keep your distance from that woman.”
Then you left the training grounds, disappearing into the night and back towards the Sisters’ sleeping quarters, leaving Yandere! Holy Knight alone in his troubled thoughts. He knelt at his bedside that night, clutching the talisman you had given in his clasped hands as he dutifully murmured the prayers of Fidelity, Honor, and Strength. To protect him from evil’s temptation. 
May Aesir grant him the strength to remain pure of heart and mind before he succumbs to his unholy feelings towards the Reverend Sister Harrowhark, God’s Beloved and the woman he should not have fallen in love with.
Taglist
@impeakcharacterdesign
@faesdreaming
@faux-ecrivain
@majestichugs
@abelheilonwife
@suiana
@lxdymoon0357
@dxmoness
@tired-of-life-86
@imperfectbloodmoon
@lovely-nightmares
@yandere-dark-cupid
@beardedblizzardexpert
@angelltheninth
@d10nsaint
@likesugarandcyanide
@justcressida
@mooly-artistic
@cassanderasblog
@swallowtailcherry
@amidst-the-tempest
@detectivesparrow
@thatstrangesheep
@average-yandere-enjoyer
@tonightwrites
@navierkalani
@cinderella-dreaming
@dragonempress18
©️do not repost or use any of the characters depicted here without the author’s permission. forbidden-sunlight, 2024
954 notes · View notes
barcaatthemoon · 1 day
Text
changes || mapi leon x reader ||
Tumblr media
the natural changes in your relationship with mapi.
minors dni, 18+, smut ahead.
mapi could tell that something was up. the locker room was a weird mix of tense and seemingly excited. there were rumors of new signees, but mapi hadn't had time to look at them. however, when she arrived at her locker to see a jersey sitting next to it with your last name on it, she realized what was going on.
"are you fucking kidding me?" mapi turned to alexia, as if the woman had personally sought you out to sign. alexia tried to ignore mapi, but the brunette's glare was too much to ignore. "her?"
"she's good, and we could use the extra help on the field with jenni leaving," alexia reasoned. mapi huffed as she hurriedly changed into her kit to get out onto the field. the less time that she had to see you, the better. if mapi was ever to have an enemy, it would have been you.
she knew that there wasn't really a good reason for the two of you to hate each other, but it had been that way for years. whether it be through playing internationally or in your clubs, you and mapi had always clashed on the field together. she knew that alexia was hoping that things would be different with the two of you on the same team, but mapi knew better.
"what is the deal with her?" ona asked as she glanced over to where mapi was glaring at you. everybody knew about you, but they didn't really know you personally. this was a brand new club to you, and you were going to keep your distance because surely these girls were all already mapi's friends.
you didn't understand the rivalry between the two of you. it had started back in international youth teams, and spiraled since then. emotions had run high for you back then, and in the year since, you had mellowed out a bit. many girls who you had once played against were now your friends, with the exception of maria.
maria seemed to hold onto the resentment from your youth. for you, it all stemmed in a single game. it was your chance to show how good you really were, and mapi had shut every single one of your attempts down. you knew how that it was just her having you marked, and that it wasn't personal, but back then it felt personal.
"go away ona, i don't want to talk about it," mapi practically growled. she was much closer to snapping with you around, and it was something that ona realized they'd all have to get used to. ona just hoped that it wasn't going to be a permanent change in attitude.
"fuck, come on!" you shouted as you rubbed your thigh. you thought that you were alone in the training room, so when you heard footsteps, you jumped. you looked around the room, surprised to see mapi limping around with an ice pack on her knee. "oh, it's you."
"don't sound too happy," mapi muttered. your face fell, unsure of why she was still being so mean to you. the two of you barely ever interacted during practice, but today had been put on the same team for the 5-v-5. mapi had played things a little high for a couple of the drills, which meant she had gotten you some great passes. if it wasn't for the bad blood between the two of you, there would be a lot of potential for a team up.
"what's wrong with your knee?" you can't help but ask. it's not that difficult to tell yourself that it's just because you're teammates. there was no way that you cared about mapi outside of the pitch. it wasn't like you had been catching yourself thinking of her randomly throughout the day or anything.
"pina, she jumped on my back and my knee buckled. it's no big deal. what's wrong with you?" mapi didn't hide the concern in her voice. you had hobbled away early during practice, and mapi knew you better than to think it was just to get out of drills. they had been ready to start your favorite one of practice when you left.
"it's an old injury that acts up sometimes. i'm good though, barcelona didn't waste their money signing me," you reassured her. mapi's face fell, wondering if that was how you thought she felt about you. truthfully, she hadn't been happy to learn that you came all the way here, but she respected you as a player. mapi knew firsthand how good you were, more often than not having been a thorn in her side when the opportunity arose.
"do you need ice or something?" mapi asked. you shook your head. icing your leg hadn't helped it at all. the tapes would help for a bit, but you needed something more. mapi tilted her head as she watched you try to rub your discomfort out. it was risky, but she stood up and stood in front of you.
"what are you doing?" you asked as you watched mapi move your hand away. hers replaced yours, working through the knots much better than you had been able to. "mapi-,"
"don't mention it, please," mapi said quietly. you nodded and closed your eyes as you leaned back against the bench. mapi was grateful for your eyes being squeezed shut because it allowed for her eyes to roam over your body. things seemed to be just fine between the two of you until her fingers pressed a little higher up than she meant to, pulling a very breathy sigh from your lips. "lo siento."
"don't mention it," you told her. mapi noticed the way that your voice shook like you were barely holding it together. it wasn't the first time that you had crossed her mind, but it definitely was the first time that she had ever really thought about putting her hands on you like this.
there's a definite shift in your relationship with mapi over the next couple of weeks. the two of you aren't exactly clambering to spend time together outside of training, but everybody could tell that something had changed. you opened up more to your teammates, no longer afraid that they'd all follow maria's lead and decide to hate you.
"hola maria," you greeted happily as you sat down across from the woman. she furrowed her brows as she looked at you, a slight pout on her lips. "it's rude not to say it back."
"don't call me maria, it makes me feel like i'm in trouble," she said.
"that's your name though," you said. she got up and stood in front of you, encroaching on your personal space. "what am i supposed to call you then?"
"mapi." she grabbed onto your chin and tilted your head up so that you were looking at her. there had been a weird bit of tension building up between the two of you that everybody was waiting to come to head. alexia seemed to watch the two of you with a particular closeness, occasionally with a look of disbelief on her face.
"fine. hola, mapi," you corrected. mapi smiled down at you, leaning in almost close enough to kiss you.
"hola, (y/n). are you coming out tonight? the girls want to go dancing." the invitation had been extended to you in the parking lot, but you hadn't accepted it just yet. you knew that tomorrow was a recovery day, but you also knew that meant twice the amount of drinks as normal. the spanish girls could handle their liqour a lot better than you could, having spent most of your adult life not drinking much.
"promise to keep an eye on me and make sure i don't drink too much?" you asked her. mapi nodded, smiling as she let go of your head. the two of you paired up for some of the drills during practice, something that had become fairly normal. after practice, mapi walked you out to your car, promising to pick you up whenever it was time to go out.
the club was absolutely packed, and you hated it. somehow, the entire team had been talked into going, which meant you knew a good amount of the people there, but it was still far too crowded for your liking. that was why you had sat down in a booth across from alexia and refused to move no matter what.
"are the two of you having fun?" you and alexia both glanced over to jenni, who looked disappointed. mapi and leila were right next to her, both of them looking at the two of you expectantly. "come on, it won't kill you to dance with us."
"it might, you don't know that it won't," alexia shot back quickly. you smirked as you watched jenni's face harden a bit. there wasn't a doubt in your mind that alexia would be in for it whenever they got home. jenni didn't like to brag about the things that she got up to with alexia in their bedroom, but the two of you had a habit of chatting in the gym.
"well, if you die, i'll just give you cpr," jenni said as she tugged alexia out of her seat. leila followed the two of them, trailing close behind jenni. that left you and mapi to stand there and stare at each other.
"come on, if ale can get up, so can you," mapi said. she was much more gentle in getting you onto your feet. she also seemed to be content to wait until a slower song started to get you out there.
you didn't fight with mapi as the two of you swayed to the beat of the music. her hands fell onto your hips as she pressed herself up against you. you welcomed the warmth of her body, not having realized how long it had been since someone touched you like this. your mind quickly went elsewhere, but when you felt the press of mapi's lips against the side of your neck, you realized that maybe she wanted this too.
"kiss me," you said as you turned around. you knew that mapi couldn't hear you, but she could read your lips well enough to know what you wanted. and even if she couldn't, you weren't being subtle at all. your eyes hadn't left her lips, not until she was leaning in. excitedly, you surged forward and closed the gap between the two of you.
mapi's lips were soft, a contrast to the way that her teeth nipped at your lip. you let out a little yelp, one that had mapi laughing as she held you in her arms. you swallowed as you looked at her before nodding towards the door. she nodded, and the two of you left the club wordlessly.
"my place or yours?" you asked mapi. she got into the passenger's seat of her own car, having given you her keys after her second drink. you were pretty sure that she hadn't drank much more after that, but in your mind, it was always better safe than sorry.
"yours. i have never been there before," mapi answered. you started her car, jumping a little as the engine roared to life. mapi laughed at that, placing her hand on your thigh to calm you down a bit. she knew that her car could be a bit much for someone driving it for the first time, but she trusted you. you had proven yourself to be one of the very responsible members of the team, especially tonight when everybody else had chosen to get nearly blackout drunk with a few expections.
mapi seemed surprised to see where your apartment was. you had truly gotten a good location, extremely close to the training grounds and nearby several restaurants and stores. mapi was a bit jealous, even if she did like her apartment. it was close by alexia and jenni's, so she could always go annoy them whenever she felt like it.
"it's a bit messy. i had a hard time finding something to wear tonight," you warned her. mapi didn't seem to care. her eyes dropped down to your outfit, appreciatively checking you out once again. it had been hard to keep her eyes off of you earlier in the night, and she was beyond relieved whenever you hadn't pushed her away on the dance floor.
"with how good you look, we'll be lucky to make it to your bedroom," mapi told you. you clenched your thighs together as you unlocked your door. once the two of you were inside, mapi pulled you in for another kiss. this one was firm without being rough. mapi established her control very early on, but you had expected as much.
you kicked your heels off before jumping up into mapi's arms. she carried you down the little hallway, stopping momentarily to press you against the wall to kiss you a little harder. you moaned into that kiss, grinding your hips against her just a little. mapi could already feel the heat coming off of your core, and she realized that she couldn't wait to have you.
"bedroom?" mapi asked. you pointed at the door at the end of the hallway. mapi pulled you away from the wall and walked you right over there. she set you down just long enough to let you move the dresses and clothes scattered about on your bed. you turned around to see her half-naked in front of you. "like what you see?"
"fuck yes," you breathed out. mapi smirked as she moved towards you. your hands immediately flew down to touch her stomach, fingers running along the taunt and toned muscle of her abdomen. mapi's head dropped down to rest on your shoulder, breathing heavily as your hands moved along her body.
"touch me." mapi guided your hands down between her legs. you were surprised, having assumed that she wouldn't have let you in so quickly. you had heard the way mapi talked about having sex with the girls she had picked up before, and it had all sounded very one-sided. although, you supposed that her letting you touch you like this was even more exciting because you did't expect it.
your fingers were met with skin made slick from arousal. mapi was panting in your ear as your fingers teasingly stroked between her lips. mapi bucked her hips forward as your fingers approached her clit. mapi's hands grabbed onto your shoulders for support as she tilted her hips just enough for your fingers to wind up at her entrance.
"one at a time," mapi told you. she sounded desperate, so you let one of your fingers slip inside of her. mapi hiked her leg up as she bucked her hips to try and ride your finger. you quickly lifted her with your other arm, pulling both of you back onto the mattress.
mapi stayed on top of you, riding your finger as you tried to comfortably adjust yourself beneath her. you could tell whenever the one finger wasn't quite enough for mapi, and slowly added a second. once again, you were patient as mapi set the pace that she wanted. you matched her thrust for thrust, not daring to go faster than what she was.
"please, i need more. i'm so close," mapi begged you. she was a lot more prone to whining than you had originally thought, but it didn't bother you one bit. you liked the vulnerability that mapi was willing to show to you, especially considering how volatile your relationship had been in the beginning.
"do you want another finger?" you asked. mapi shook her head, and suddenly, you realized what she needed. you dropped your other hand from her hip down between her legs, allowing for your fingers to brush against her clit. you felt a surge of wetness along with the first spasm of her cunt around your fingers. the next few came in controlled little waves, matching the rhythm set by the fingers against her clit. there was only so long that she could hold off on cumming, and once she had let you, you felt her body tense up around you.
mapi lifted herself off of your fingers before settling down in between your legs. she placed her hands on your waist and bunched them around your dress. you lifted your hips up off of the bed, allowing for the bottom of your dress to move up around your waist. mapi licked her lips as she looked straight ahead to be met with the sight of your definitely ruined underwear.
"i can't wait to taste you," mapi said as she leaned in. your breath hitched as you felt hers ghost across the insides of your thighs. it wasn't fair to see her so composed immediately after an orgasm. you felt like a wreck, turned on and no longer distracted with something interesting to focus on. you were left to lay there and think about how uncomfortable the now-sticky fabric of your underwear felt.
"please hurry," you whined. mapi hooked her fingers around your underwear and pulled them down slowly. she gave a quick teasing little lick between your lips, moaning in pleasure at the taste of you.
"so sweet, i could spend all night licking up every drop." the thickness of mapi's accent made you want to clench your thighs, but her hands kept them apart. she kept you spread open as she took her time to admire you. it was touching her that had gotten you so worked up, and once the two of you were finished, mapi planned on being insufferable about it.
"just please, i want to cum so badly." you looked at mapi with a pout. she bit her lip as she pushed her finger against your entrance. "two, not just one. i need to be fucked, mapi, fucked."
she gave you a quick nod and pushed another finger inside of you without hesitation. her fingers moved at a quick pace, nearly fucking the breath out of you. you threaded your fingers in her hair and pulled her head forward, directing her so that her mouth was on your clit. mapi didn't need instruction past that.
her tongue worked magic on your clit, moving with fluidity and precision. your hips were bucking wildly as you ground yourself against mapi's face. she let you push yourself closer and closer towards an orgasm until you were on the edge of it. that was when she wrapped both of her arms around your hips, keeping you still so that she could truly control when you came.
you hadn't meant to scream her name out at the top of your lungs, but it had still happened. mapi relished in the sound of it echoing off of your bedroom walls. your neighbors would be pissed, but you'd apologize later on, if you could even face them again. mapi liked the sound of her name spilling from your lips that she didn't stop there. you were physically pushing her off of your body to get her to give you a break, and even then, she was looking at you as she "patiently" waited for another turn.
"in the morning," you promised. mapi pouted as she settled in the bed next to you.
"that is so far away," mapi whined. you rolled your eyes at her as you pulled her in for a kiss. "just one more?"
"no, it's late, and i'd like to actually get some rest now. god, you're so needy, maria," you teased. mapi's brows furrowed as she stared at you, obviously not happy with the use of her full name.
"well, now you owe me one in the morning," mapi told you. you laughed it off, already having planned on having sex with her again in the morning. you knew that the two of you had opened up a can of worms, one that you'd be exploring for at least a couple more weeks. you hoped that it would blossom into more, but you didn't want to push mapi for anything too serious when you'd only recently become friends.
327 notes · View notes
sailoryooons · 7 months
Text
Angel | myg (m)
Tumblr media
☾ Pairing: Mafia!Yoongi x Sex worker! F. reader
☾ Summary: Yoongi never meant to keep coming back. You never meant to become Yoongi’s favorite. Being Min Yoongi’s favorite has dire consequences. 
☾ Word Count: 15,551
☾ Genre: Semi-established relationship, mafia, smut, surprising amount of fluff
☾ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately. 
☾ Warnings: Sex work and mentions of sex work, Yoongi and the reader are very confident in their relationship but also don’t want to ask for more, uses of the word whore negatively in some parts, vague references to dismemberment in an offhand conversation, intense action sequences, depictions of violence, reader is smacked around and kidnapped, depictions of injuries and pain, two sequences of detailed anxiety attacks, graphic depictions of blood, violent scene in which reader fights for her life and gores someone, depictions of murder/panicking while committing murder? Idk how to describe that one, mentions of nightmares/light reference to PTSD post-murder, explicit language, explicit sexual content including oral (m. and f. receiving) light throat fucking, nipple play, ass play (f. receiving), unprotected vaginal sex, Yoongi… almost doing a strip tease but it’s not as goofy as that it’s more sensual?? Yoongi is a little bit possessive at the end. 
☾ Published: September 3, 2023
☾ A/N: You voted for it, you got it! Introducing the fic that came out on top for the Hali’s Happy Agust Bracket Challenge! Thank you to everyone who voted during the entire month of August, I had such an amazing time seeing everyone yelling and voting and sharing and having fun with it. It means the world to me that you guys have fun and enjoy doing these kinds of things! Here is mafia Yoongi in all of his glory - I did try to keep it tame with the murder/violence/criminal side of it because there are things in this genre I’d like to table in later (most likely on Hali’s After Dark) but I hope that you enjoy this! Somehow it really turned into two people who are just !!! eternally confident in one another, despite their strange trades. Shout out to the hurricane and covid for FAILING TO STOP ME FROM WRITING THIS I’M A GOD (not really I am very tired but I did it osifjdoigj). This is mostly edited.
☾ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.
Masterlist | Ask | Angel Playlist
Tumblr media
Yoongi would rather be anywhere else but the low lit, smoky club. The production team on the dancefloor below uses way too much cryogenic smoke for Yoongi’s taste, fogging the dancing bodies with thick clouds, the lasers reflecting off the smoke in dizzying patterns. From the VIP section, he isn’t choked by the haze, but he is choking on the cloying perfume of the woman in his lap.
She’s pretty enough, one of Kwan’s finest. No doubt trained from a very young age to please her employer’s most prestigious guests. Yoongi doesn’t touch her though, save for letting her sit on his lap, her hand cradling the back of his neck. She leans into his chest, her breath close to his ear as he watches Kwan consider Yoongi’s deal.
Yoongi doesn’t have to make the deal at all. Offering to become a minority owner of the club is a mercy, really. Yoongi could go after the investors who fronted the money when Kwan opened his business in the middle of the entertainment district, and he could wipe out the petty criminals pushing drugs in shadowy alcoves near the bathroom, damaging the cut that Kwan takes from them at the end of each night. 
Yoongi could even go as far as to sow chaos every night, sending in his followers to pick fights with the elite clientele, make it a nightmare for the celebrity clients and cities government officials who use the back rooms for more nefarious matters, exposing the underbelly of La Vie if he felt like it. 
Investments, Hoseok always insists. Investments, not enemies. They already hate that you’re taking a chunk of what they built - especially the seaside property.  Let’s try to play nice and show face. 
Forcing hands is exactly how Yoongi got to this position, sitting in a club and offering Kwan a rather generous deal: Kwan retains eighty percent of ownership, Yoongi becomes a twenty percent owner, the only person allowed to supply the club’s drugs, is paid for security services, and has access to the information funneled through those that work the private client rooms. He could just take it like he always has, and he still has half a mind to do. 
Men like Kwan who think they’re savvy in business and the nuances of the criminal enterprises that run the city make Yoongi’s lip curl. 
“These terms are bullshit, and I don’t have control of the back rooms.” Kwan looks up from the contract, glasses sliding down his nose. He’s a little bit older than Yoongi, and good looking. He has a traditionally handsome face that idols and actors like to get moderated to look like. He looks like new money though, with designer pieces that don’t quite match and a Patek watch that is flashy, but not coveted. “While it is under my jurisdiction, it is a handshake deal with Anya that she runs them the way she wants. They are her clients, not mine.” 
“Then Anya will have a handshake deal with me.” Kwan’s face darkens. Yoongi is tired of this. Is tired of the feeling of the girl’s hand stroking the hair at the base of his neck, is tired of the way she presses up against him, and is tired of Kwan’s dawdling.
“Take the weekend to think about it,” Yoongi insists and stands. The girl falls off him, letting out a surprised sound as she hits the booth. Yoongi adjusts his suit and frowns when he sees there is body glitter on it. He casts a harsh look at the girl who stares up at him with big eyes before turning back to Kwan. “There are no terms for negotiating. Thank you for the drinks and the entertainment. You’ll hear from me.”
Kwan’s face is red like the neon of Yoongi’s favorite motel when he walks out of the booth. Synth and base rattle the metal catwalk that makes up the VIP section, overlooking the dancefloor. Seokjin slides into step with Yoongi as he goes, an imposing shadow as they circumnavigate the walkway. 
It’s loud and raucous when they get to the dance floor. Members of the security team watch Yoongi as he goes, their eyes alert. He pays them little attention, just like the gazes of the people dancing in the ground when they catch sight of him.
Sometimes, Yoongi feels a little bit like a myth in moments like this. Out in public, Yoongi is an astutely dressed man who speaks quietly and says very few words. He wears nice but not gaudy jewelry, and he always styles his long hair slicked back, showing off the faded, red scar over his eye. What Yoongi lacks in height, he makes up for in omnipresent stares and quick reactions.
Everyone in the city knows exactly who Min Yoongi is, and they know that he doesn’t make threats. He simply acts. 
Outside, rain falls from the inky sky. Hoseok leans against the brick wall under the awning, clove-tinged smoke drifting from the cigarette jammed between his lips. When he sees Yoongi, Hoseok pushes off the wall and adjusts his suit jacket. Where Seokjin looks tall, dark and imposing, Hoseok is wiry and sharp, dressed in all white, looking pristine as he raises his eyebrows at Yoongi in question. Yoongi nods towards the idling SUV as an answer. 
They don’t bother with an umbrella. Yoongi ducks his head down as he quickly walks across the pavement and into the car. The interior is moderately cool in the SUV. He takes a seat in the middle, Seokjin sitting alone in the row behind him and Hoseok to his right. 
Outside of the rainy window, the world turns into a smear of wet neon. Checking his watch, Yoongi notes that it’s just past midnight. If he hurries, he can stop by the Red before he goes home for the evening. If he goes home for the evening, at that point. The thought of sinking into sheets that smell like almond and cinnamon ease him. 
“So?” Hoseok flicks through his phone, face lit up blue by the screen. He looks hauntingly beautiful, all edges and sharp lines. “Deal or no deal?”
“Giving him the weekend to think about it.” Hoseok sighs. “He thinks it’s a bad deal for him because it it is, and he’s stuck on the operation Anya runs in the back rooms. He doesn’t want to lose that connection to her. She feeds him information for his extortion of city officials.”
“How else would he have cleared that permit near the docks to build,” Seokjin mutters. Yoongi casts a glance into the back seat where Seokjin sullenly stares out of the window. “Fucker is sticking his nose in a district he has no rights to. At least we had the means to get that operation cancelled.” 
“Yeah, and it’s part of why he doesn’t want to deal with us,” Hoseok says. “Even so, offering the deal is the right move. If he doesn’t take it, crush him like a fucking bug. He’s an intelligent businessman, it’s no surprise that he’s going to try and find a way around you. He might sniff around or try and fuck up some assets.”
“Hobi, you better fucking hope he doesn’t go to that fucker Seo.”
“He doesn’t have the balls. Seo Changbin is unhinged and volatile. He’s more likely to send Kwan to his family in chainsawed pieces.” 
Yoongi grunts, amused. “Bang has kept him under control as of late. Seokjin, have Jungkook look into getting some people in there. I’m not interested in them linking up as permanent partners.” 
A headache presses against Yoongi’s temples. He doesn’t care to debate politics and machinations with Hoseok and Seokjin. He closes his eyes and rests his head against the headrest, letting their discussion fall to a dull sound. 
Yoongi feels like he’s bleeding at the edges, the color of him spilling out of neat lines and all over the pages. His empire is growing faster than he can keep up with, he’s playing politics more than he’s playing the savvy gangster, and the more capital he gains, the more of himself he loses.
When Yoongi had started to climb the ladder of crime and chaos, he didn’t know where it would lead him. An early grave, perhaps. But Yoongi has always been smart and knows how to pick his battles, knows how to innovate. He is not the most inspiring man to lead people in the underbelly of the city, but he does know what he’s talking about and he’s good at guessing what people want most.
People, he’s discovered, all want the same thing, whether they’re at the bottom rung or the top. 
The boy he once was wouldn’t recognize him. The new Yoongi wears designer suits, the carefully curated art collections in the opulent halls of his home, the shaking hands with political figures to help install certain assurances within the city. There are more officials that line Yoongi’s pocket than there are gangs in the city, but it’s a weapon he wields well. 
Old Yoongi might not be so impressed. 
Yoongi feels the phantom ache of the scar on his eye. It doesn’t matter what old Yoongi wants, though. This new version of him is doing whatever he needs to live another day and to install another brick in his kingdom. 
The driver drops Yoongi off at home. Tall gates with security cameras and guard house at the entrance keeps almost everyone away from the Min estate. There’s been a few idiots here or there who have climbed the walls and met the three lovely dobermans that roam the property freely. 
Erebus catches Yoongi’s eyes as he walks to the large garage. The eldest of Yoongi’s canines sits and watches Yoongi approach with keen, dark eyes. He grins at the dog, whistling lowly. Erebus stands and joins Yoongi on his way to the side door, jamming in a code to the garage.
Inside, the automatic lights flip on. Yoongi squints from the harsh lighting, closing the door behind him. Rows of vehicles gleam under the fluorescents. Sports cars, old collectibles, sturdy SUVs. Yoongi has an armada at his disposal, though he so rarely drives himself anywhere these days. Not after Seo put a hit on him a few months ago, the insane fuck. 
Yoongi pulls the tie loose from his neck and begins to change. He presses his finger on a thumb-print lock to a wardrobe and pops it open. Inside are casual clothes: jeans, a t-shirt, a riding jacket, boots and a gleaming black helmet. Nondescript clothes that can belong to anyone. 
Every movement feels heavy. He should go upstairs and swallow down something to help him knockout, but he doesn’t. Instead, he finishes going through the motions and tosses the worn clothes in the wardrobe and walks over to the parked H2R in, all sleek, black metal. 
Erebus sniffs Yoongi’s knee once, a sort of send off. Yoongi bends down and kisses the doberman on the head before shooing him, sending the dog through the garage and up the stairs that lead to the main house. 
Instead of starting the bike in the garage and peeling out the front of the home, Yoongi pops the kickstand up and walks it out of the side door, careful not to bang the tailpipe on the door or scrape the shiny black paint. Once outside, he walks it through the entire yard, arms aching a little as he keeps the bike balanced. 
Gravel crunches beneath his boots and the tires of the motorcycle. Crickets chirp in the yard until he makes it to the back gate in his home that opens up to a government only street. Being back-to-back with the minister has its perks, like an extra security measure that he doesn’t have to monitor constantly. 
Swinging his leg over the bike, Yoongi slides the helmet on, turns the key, and presses the on switch. It roars to life, vibrating underneath him. He revs it a few times before he pulls back on the throttle and shoots down the street like a bullet from a gun.
Iron gates, walls and security houses blur past him. He lives among the gods of the city, high up over the glittering lights and those who pay pilgrimage to the political, criminal and tech giants who loom over them. Yoongi was one of them not that long ago, rising faster than he could have thought possible.
Still, he descends often. Nightly, even. Like even the most powerful gods, Yoongi’s weakness is a vice he can’t - doesn’t want to - rid himself from. While he doesn’t think of himself as impervious, Yoongi doesn’t have many weaknesses. 
His biggest one, though, spends most days at the Red with a private suite in the luxury pleasure house disguised as a motel. 
Yoongi parks his bike in a secured garage that he has a paid spot in. The payment for it is discrete and in all cash, one of Yoongi’s several attempts at covering his tracks when he visits.
The garage is still a few blocks away from the Red. He tucks his hands into his pocket, enjoying the balmy evening, rain still clinging to the air though not falling now. This late at night, there aren’t many people out. Cars drive by, tires hissing on the wet road. Neon lights burn above fluorescent-lit windows of small food shops. 
At the end of a dead end street, a red motel sign buzzes against the night sky. The non-descript brick building doesn’t look like much, but Yoongi knows better than most. Instead of approaching the front door, he leans against the wall a few shops down, tucked underneath the shadow of an awning. 
Pulling his phone out, he dials and brings it up to his ear. As the phone rings, he looks up at the four-story building. There are windows with dark curtains pulled shut and never opened. Yoongi knows that the glass looks ordinary, but is bullet proof grade to protect the most private of clients. 
It doesn’t look like much. The brick is old, it’s bracketed by a laundromat and a hardware store, and across the street is a noodle shop and boarded up general store. 
“It’s late,” you answer, voice scratchy. Yoongi nearly shivers at the sound of your voice, eyes fluttering shut as he breathes in the rain-tinged night. “What’s a girl to do when a boy calls her this late, hmm?”
“Let said boy upstairs and out of the rain.”
“Hmm.” You don’t say yes, but Yoongi can hear the rustle of sheets and the soft creak of the bed when you get up. He waits in silence, though he imagines you’re walking across the bedroom to head to the main part of the state room. “It’s not even raining anymore, I bet.”
“It is. I’m soaked to the bone. Freezing. I might catch a cold.”
“Whatever shall we do?”
He grins, ducking his head. He can feel the warmth climb up his neck to his face, shaking his head. Only you can get him like this, heart skipping like he’s in grade school making out with someone behind the bleachers for the first time. 
“Come on,” you tease on the other line. “Your door will be open.”
“Thanks, Angel.”
“Mhmm.”
His door isn’t really his. But it is a private access door in the back of the alley that requires a keycard and has an armed guard sitting in a security room next to the entry way on the inside. Yoongi hangs up the phone and heads to the special door, avoiding the puddles dripping from fire escapes. 
Just as Yoongi reaches the heavy door, he hears the beep of the auto-lock and it swings open with you leaning on the frame. He wants to eat you whole. You’re not in work clothes, meaning you either wrapped up a while ago or didn’t work tonight. He doesn’t want to know so he doesn’t ask, instead walking up to you as you step to the side and let him in. 
Glowing light flickers underneath the security door to the left. You close the door behind you and pass him, letting your fingers grab his hand and link fingers. There are security cameras here, but it’ll look normal, with you pulling him through the halls and to the elevator. Touching is very much permitted here. Encouraged. Required. 
In the elevator, you stand by Yoongi. He leans into you, silent. You squeeze his hand, very small in his, but warm enough to soothe him. You smell faintly almond and cinnamon, making him go wild as he presses a kiss to the top of your head. You giggle, leaning into him fully, arm pressed to arm. 
Perhaps it’s stupid to be so open like this. When Yoongi first started coming here, he was still and awkward, never coming too close, never letting himself be too familiar. Now, the need for you is too strong. He doesn’t care if there’s a camera on him watching him melt into you. He doesn’t care if maybe it shows that this is a little more than money, a little more than just a quick fix.
Yoongi has been coming to you for almost three years. He doesn’t remember when it stopped being about sex, but it hasn’t been that way for a while. At first, he thought it was so silly. Mafia man in love with a woman he pays to have sex with him. Except it wasn’t so silly. You’d long stopped considering him a client and insisting he doesn’t pay you. 
He doesn’t dare. He doesn’t know what money you make from clients. He knows that it has to be good to be at the Red, which specializes in top clientele. He knows it has to be great, even, because you always meet on your terms. In this space. 
He also doesn’t dare to ask you to stop. He doesn’t know how many clients you take, or who. He doesn’t know when, he doesn’t know how often. He knows nothing about your work except that he doesn’t ask you to stop and you don’t ask him if he wants you too. 
It’s an unspoken rule between you. Yoongi is too afraid to ask you to come live with him, and perhaps you’re too afraid to ask him to take you. Whatever the reasons, neither one of you is brave enough to cross the line first. So instead, you dance along it, making whatever this is work. 
Inside the stateroom is clean and smells like expensive candles. The room is luxurious and is exclusively yours. A cut of your earnings go to holding the room, just like the rest of the workers in the other rooms. 
With the door firmly locked behind the two of you, Yoongi heads to the open kitchen and leans against the counter, facing you. You kick off your slippers and turn to face him, half shadowed by the darkness of the hall, half lit by the warm salt lamp in the living room. 
Yoongi drags his eyes up and down your frame. Soft curves, gentle lips, kind eyes. He was gone the first time he saw you, and he’s gone now. Even after all this time. 
“What?” you ask, fingers fidgeting with your t-shirt. He thinks it might be one of his, but he might be imagining it.
“Come here,” he instructs, patting his thigh. 
You grin and approach him. He opens his arms for you and he sighs as you press against him. Your arms wrap around his middle, squeezing him tight. Slotting your head between his shoulder and neck, you hide your face against him, breath warm against his throat. He envelops you in his arms, wrapped around your shoulders and draped down your back. 
Almond fills his senses. He closes his eyes for a second, breathing you in. You don’t say anything, content to sag against him in the low light of the room. This is what he comes here for more than anything. Everything else you offer is secondary. His foremost desire is this - you. 
“Everything okay?” you finally ask, because of course you do.
“Mhmm. Just a long night.”
“You smell like perfume.”
“Hmm?”
“Like peaches.”
He opens his eyes and looks down at you. You crane your head so that you’re peering up at him with one eye, brow arched. His mouth twitches. “Jealous?”
“Maybe.” 
“Interesting.”
“Not particularly.” 
He lowers his arms, letting them drape around your waist. He smacks the round of  your ass a bit, not enough to hurt but enough to make you pout. “We really going to get into the mechanics of this right now?”
Your smile is all he needs to know you’re not serious. At least, not enough to do something about it. “No, but it’s fun to tease you.” 
“Perhaps I should tease you back, then.” 
Hand in hand, you lead him to your room. Yoongi sees the white sheets and grins. White sheets are for him. Grey sheets are for clients, something you’d established in the infancy of whatever this relationship is. He appreciates the little layers of how you make things different for him. You make him feel special - and not the kind that he pays for. 
Falling backward into the bed, you look up at him with those fucking eyes that make him week in the knees. It’s dark in the room but he knows it well, standing at the foot of your bed and reaching down to snatch an ankle and pull you a bit closer. You squeal as he does, making a jolt of joy go through him, grinning. 
“How was your day?” he asks, lifting your foot to rest on his shoulder. He presses an innocent kiss to your ankle and he watches your brows furrow. “What?”
“Are you a foot person?”
“What if I was?”
You shrug a shoulder, watch him trail kisses down your calf. He nips the meat of your leg, an innocent bite but one that makes your leg twitch. “I’d say I’m surprised to learn something new about you after three years.”
“Yeah?” Yoongi lowers himself so that he’s on his knees, the carpet pressing into his slacks. The back of your knee fits perfectly over his shoulder, your leg resting along his back. You lean up on your elbows and look down at him, watching him settle between your legs. “Think you know everything about me, huh?”
Yoongi’s hands feel your warm skin. He marvels at the softness of your thighs, stroking his hands back and forth. Looking at you, he raises his brow in question. You’re too distracted by the feeling of his hands. It stirs something in him, and he cruves his fingers, dragging his blunt nails softly against your skin.
“Feels good,” you mumble, half-lidded. “I do know everything about you, Min Yoongi.”
“That so?”
“Yes. I could eat your heart if I wanted to.”
Yoongi’s stomach flips at how right you are, at how much you know it. Your confidence in his feelings never fails to make him feel like he is cut open and laid bare at your feet, waiting for you to step on him. To make him regret that vulnerability. 
You never do. At every turn, you’ve shown him that you won’t take advantage. That you have no desire to use the fact that one of the most powerful men in the city is in the palm of your hand. Power for the taking. You could wield him like a weapon, he thinks, and yet you don’t. All you want from him is for him to speak freely, to kiss you often, and to hold you tightly. 
So he does. 
Yoongi presses kisses up the softness of your thighs. You drop from your elbows to lay flat on your back again, your breath catching. He watches raptly at the rise and fall of your chest as you gasp a little. He knows exactly what you like, reaching for your sleep shorts to pull them off slowly. 
Tonight, he has nowhere else to go. Neither do you, letting him lean further up between your legs to press wet, open-mouthed kisses against your hips. You squirm a little, sensitive in the hip area. He loves it - would die for it - letting his tongue slip between his teeth to lave over your hot skin to soothe stinging flesh where he’s nipped you. 
His hands are familiar with every dimple in your skin and every curve. He traces them as he pulls your shorts down, grabbing the elastic band of your underwear as he does. He throws them on the floor, hands settling on the inside of your knees as he presses you open, dropping his eyes to your wet folds. 
Yoongi groans. You’re always so eager for him. That’s never been an illusion, the way your cunt drips slowly down to the curve of your ass at the most innocent of touches from him. It fuels Yoongi’s ego, knowing he has this effect on you. Knowing he’s the only one who can get you trembling in anticipation just by kissing the inside of your knees. 
He made the mistake only once asking if you ever get off with your other clients. The flash of anger and irritation had never made him ask again, but you at least gave him an answer: no. 
Thinking back on it now, Yoongi doesn’t know why he asked. He doesn’t care who you have before or between. All he cares about is being in the darkness of this room, your scent heady, his head shadowed between your legs. 
Leaning forward, Yoongi drags the flat of his tongue up your cunt slowly. You let out a moan and he hums, closing his eyes. He’s been craving your sweet tang all day, the tip of his tongue lingering just under your clit before he drags around it, missing your bundle of nerves on purpose. You let out a sound but he grins, removing his tongue to return to tracing sloppy kisses on your legs instead. 
Already lightheaded, he grounds himself by sliding his hands along the outside of your thighs, gripping you here and there as he lavishes you with attention. He knows he’s tired, but he at least wants this. Wants to taste you before bed, to have you melt in his mouth, fingers in his hair. He needs it. 
Yoongi doesn’t dip into the drugs that his operation injects into the streets. He doesn’t need to. There’s nothing that makes him forget who and where he is the way you do. Nothing that amounts to feeling your soft skin beneath his palms, smelling the barest hint of sweat beneath your vanilla perfume.
When Yoongi gets a taste of you, it’s an instant high. He feels lost, hands skimming up your thighs to hold your hips to the bed. Your hands seek his, linking your fingers and pressing your joined hands to your hips as he drags his tongue up the inside of your thigh.
This is why he keeps coming back. The intimacy. The reassurance that this is something more than an accident that Yoongi stumbled on a few years ago. That this is more than the roll of bills he will leave on the nightstand tonight, even when you say not to. 
There is nothing else he needs in these stolen moments with you. 
“Yoongi,” you murmur, voice soft. He hums in response. “Please, I’m going to lose my mind.”
“Good,” he shoots back, biting your knee. You twitch and curse at him, making him laugh. Your glossy cunt is a sure sign that you’re not lying, though. Clit swollen, hole clenching. “Fuck, you have such a wet pussy.” 
“Then put your fucking mouth on it, Yoongi.” 
He laughs. “As you wish, Angel.” 
A breathy whine in the shape of Yoongi’s name leaves your mouth when he starts to eat you out properly. He takes his time, eyes closed as he indulges, tongue rolling up and down your slick pussy. You turn liquid in his mouth, your hips canting as he flicks his tongue across your clit. You shiver in his hands and he grins, gently sucking your clit into his mouth. 
“Yeah,” you pant. “Fuck, like that.” 
Alternating between fastening his mouth on your pussy to suck gently and sliding his tongue into your hole, Yoongi goes with what he knows makes you a mess. Holds out his tongue and lets you fuck yourself against his face, your hand coming to grip his long hair. 
The wet slide of you against his face makes him ache in his pants. He ignores it, determined to hold you still as he buries his face in deeper, picking up the firmness and pace of his mouth and tongue. He feels your essence drip down his chin and his neck. Hears the squelch when he thrusts his tongues into your pussy. Can’t get enough of the way your thighs close around his head, muffling the sound of you whining and saying his name.
Yoongi’s scalp stings when you pull his hair. He doesn’t care. He whips his head back and forth between your legs, tongue pressed against your throbbing clit. You’re shaking underneath him and he pushes you further, dipping low to slurp at your pussy bottom to top, not letting an ounce of you spill out. 
“Holy fuck,” you squeak, voice high-pitched as you arch off the bed. He looks up at you, mouth attached. “Your fucking mouth.” 
He grins, and leans into you further, pushes your thighs higher. Your legs bend easily under his weight. His hips are pressed against the foot of the bed now, hips rolling slightly, seeking for friction. His eyes close as he gets the barest bit of friction against his cock, more focused on making you come into his mouth than getting himself off.
When you come, your whole body goes taut. Yoongi holds you tight in his hands, mouth moving against you messily as he licks you through your orgasm. You dissolve in his mouth, making him hum against your heat. You twist in the sheets, body twitching, muscles flexing. He avoids your clit, thrusting his tongue into your entrance until you’re gasping for air, hands pressing against his head to get him to stop.
Yoongi removes his mouth with one, lascivious lick. He sits backwards on his feet, panting as he looks at you melt into the bed. Your limbs are lifeless and tangled in the blankets, your hand over your eyes as you catch your breath. You look fucking beautiful. 
“Come here,” you rasp, voice rough. 
The bed creaks under Yoongi’s weight. He walks over on his knees, drinking you in. Your cum slicks your thighs, shining in the barest shaft of light escaping the bathroom from a nightlight. You turn to face him, face balmy with sweat. You reach up and work the zipper on his pants, making his stomach flip.
“You don’t-”
“Shut up,” you growl, tugging the metal down hard. He smirks as you press your fingers into his hard shaft through the cotton of his briefs. “Wanna feel your cock in my throat. Can you fuck my mouth?” 
“Fuck yeah, Angel.” 
Yoongi nearly falls getting out of his pants. You laugh, the sound so sweet that he feels himself blush. He’s hot all over, coming alive in the darkness of your room as he strokes his cock. You look innocent, splayed on the bed and blinking up at him. 
Precum drips from his dark tip and you open your mouth, tongue catching it. He curses under his breath, entranced by the way your tongue disappears between your lips. You hum, a glint in your eye as you smirk at him. 
“Vixen,” he says, shaking his head.
“Give it to me.”
One day he thinks he’s going to die of loving you. He knows that this is what it is. It’s more than you opening your mouth and sticking out your tongue for him. It’s more than him letting you suckle on the tip of his cock playfully, his eyes fluttering shut and his thigh muscles twitching. 
Yoongi loves you. It is an incredibly simple fact in his over-complicated world. Among all of the shit and the moves and countermoves he deals with every day, coming here to simply be in love with you is a relief. A home. 
A shiver crawls up his back as he slowly inches his cock into your mouth. Your mouth is wet and warm, your tongue rough on the sensitive underside of his shaft. He keeps one hand on the base of his cock and the other on your jaw, keeping your mouth open to make the slide easier. 
Everything fades away again. Yoongi sucks in a sharp breath as you open up for him. When he touches the back of your throat, he’s careful at first. He knows you can take it. You’ve taken so much more from him, gone so much harder. He doesn’t want to go hard tonight though. He feels soft at the edges, your taste lingering in his mouth.
The wet sound of your throat convulsing around him making him stroke faster. He knows you’re okay, breathing heavily through your nose as you gurgle around him, spit and precum slicking his shaft as he pulls in and out, marveling at the way you look at him, eyes watering.
Your eyes fix on him. Yoongi clenches his teeth, trying not to burst in your mouth. It’s hard when you look at him like that, gaze so dark and hungry and fathomless. You’ve never said you love him. You don’t have to. He knows. He knows in the same way he is aware you know he loves you. He knows enough to trust you with him. With everything. 
There’s not a single doubt with you. It is a rare gift to share this open trust with someone, especially in his position. It is an added bonus that you know he loves it when you swallow around his cock as he presses into the back of your throat. The tight heat of your throat constricting around him does him in, and Yoongi comes with a growl.
You take it in stride, gulping. Taking it down. His eyes roll back in his head and he thinks that if he didn’t love you already, this alone would make him fall in love. 
Pulling out his softening cock, he falls backward on the bed. He’s still in the top half of his clothes, but he is exhausted, lashes fluttering. Your hands are delicate as you begin to pull the jacket from his body. He rolls to the side and lets you, lost in the daze of a much needed orgasm. He feels at ease now, more than he has all day. 
“Come on,” you whisper, pressing a kiss to the spot under his ear. “Take a quick shower while I change the sheets, they’re sweaty. And I came on them.”
“I’d sleep in them anyway.”
“Hmm, too bad. Shower.”
“Meh.”
“Yoongi, you smell like a whore.” That makes him crack an eye and look at you. Your gaze is pointed. “And not like me. I don’t like it.”
“Huh. So you are jealous.”
“Get in the shower.” Your mouth twitches as you try to fight a smile. “Or else.” 
-
Getting up before the sun is your favorite thing. Even now, when you’re tired from being woken up in the middle of the night, you make an effort to crawl out of bed to make coffee. Your steps are heavy and you shiver in the freezing air of the kitchen as you open a drawer and pull out a coffee pod. You hold it up close to make sure you’ve got Yoongi’s favorite brand before sticking it in the machine and popping the lid down, punching the button to brew.
Yoongi is a sleeping mound in your bed. Leaning against the counter, you admire him from afar. He’ll be up soon, your body clock tuned to the hours of his operation. It’s been that way for over a year now, your circadian rhythm trained to be the most functional during the hours in which Yoongi is awake. 
When you were younger, you would have hated to admit that. Would have detested the thought of ever adjusting a single part of yourself for a man. Your entire job was to be moldable. To put on whatever face your client needed, to shape yourself into whatever person that you needed to be. 
You have been so many things. A wife. A mistress. A temptress. A lost loved one. And darker things still, sliding on the skin of client’s fantasies over-and-over again until you lost the substance that made up whoever you were for hours at a time. 
Back then, it would take hours and days to regain who you were. It wasn’t until you were more advanced that you were able to separate who you are from who you pretended to be. Now, it’s not necessarily. There is no other, no mask. Just you and Yoongi, the single client you decided was worth being moldable for.
The smell of coffee wakes him up before his alarm. You watch him sit up in bed, eyes not yet open. His hand spreads to where he expects to find you, only to discover open space. He swivels back and forth then, looking for you. Maybe a little panicked.
A pang aches your heart. It is so easy to forget that even after years of getting up before him first, Yoongi will never be trained out of the instinct that something of his has been taken. The day he doesn’t worry is the day he’ll lose everything and you know it.
“I’m over here,” you call gently. He relaxes and pulls himself together before getting out of bed and trudging out of the room.
Yoongi is pretty in the morning. His face is swollen with sleep, making him look so much younger. Like a dumpling, even. His mouth is fixed in a pout as he rubs at his eyes, steps uneven and dark hair sticking up all over the place. He looks at you, eyes glassy. The faded pink scar over his eye is less intimidating in the morning. You grin and open your arms. His reaction is automatic, sliding between them and sinking into your embrace, head thudding to your shoulder. 
“Hi,” you purr, your hands squeezing around his middle. His shirt is soft in your fingers as you play with the hem. He grunts back, not much of a morning person. You don’t mind. Instead, you let him lay his weight on you, unwilling to move even as the coffee finishes brewing. He smells like sage shampoo and something more unique to him. “You okay, sleepyhead?”
“Mhmm.”
“Can’t talk yet?” he shakes his head against you and you laugh. “Come on, coffee.” 
With Yoongi latched on to you, you walk over to the coffee maker. You giggle, elated as he clings to your front, letting you move him backwards. With his butt pressed against the counter and arms wrapped around you, you lean around him to grab the steaming mug and bring it in front of him.
Pouting, he drops his hands from you and takes it. 
Years of mornings and carefully pulling back layers of Yoongi has earned this rare silliness between you. You’re acutely aware of the fact that the sleepy man in front of you, no matter how soft and blushing he is in the mornings, is a murderer. He’s extorted people, has threatened them, sits at the top of drug trade, and has pushed people into political office with dirty money and blood. Your eyes linger on his scar, a memento of his violent youth. 
You don’t care. It doesn’t matter what Yoongi is and is not. All that matters to you is that he is Yoongi and that he is yours. At least, yours in the way it matters. You don’t dare ask him for more than what you have. It is the one thing you’re afraid of, because even though you know that he loves you, that you know he trusts you, asking for more is something you don’t want to do. Too many people want more of him. You just want whatever you can have. 
As he sips his coffee, careful not to let it spill over and burn you while you bury yourself in snuggling him, you close your eyes. A couple of years ago, you didn’t think a life like this was possible. Getting in at the Red was the first step in the right direction. Though still for sex workers, it was an upper level platform in the industry you clawed your way to. 
Both of you are similar in that regard. Yoongi started from nothing. A poor boy who dropped out of school to work a job and help pay rent at his apartment, too uneducated with not enough resources to make a dent in the world. It was the same story for you, though perhaps a little bloody around the edges, a hand that started selling you before you could make the choice yourself. 
At the thought of your mother, you feel your jaw clench. The bite of the memory is only soothed by the knowledge of Yoongi putting her down himself. Perhaps it makes you a monster, but you’ve accepted that long ago you were what the world crafted you to be, and you wouldn’t apologize.
If you were Yoongi’s shield, he was your sword. You protected him from the weight of his atrocities, and he slayed your monsters. 
It’s what drew Yoongi to you in the first place, the unapologetic approach to life. You appreciate it in him too. He doesn’t try to pretend that he is more or less than what he is, and you never try to hide the ugly parts of yourself. 
And here he is anyway, coffee-warm lips pressed against your forehead. It almost makes you ask for more, but you don’t. This is enough for now. 
The room at the Red isn’t where you live, but it’s yours in everything except lease. You long stopped using it for its intended purposes, now pleased to use it as a neutral ground to meet Yoongi and to stay where you know he is safe. His sprawling estate under guard and gun is surely safe enough, but you like having Yoongi where you can see him. 
After a mostly innocent shower together, Yoongi gets dressed and kisses you goodbye after you walk him down. It’s still dark outside when you swipe your security key. He puts on his biker helmet and gives you a little salute before jogging down the alleyway, splashing into the morning and vanishing around a corner. 
You linger for a moment, watching the empty space where he vanished. It would be nicer to be somewhere you didn’t have to escort him out. Somewhere you could be together all the time. You don’t think Yoongi would say no if you invited him over to your apartment, but you don’t have the security and the heavy protection that the Red offers. 
Collecting your things, you scribble a note for the cleaner before heading out. You’ll only return to the room if Yoongi intends on swinging by again. Though it is more than a suitable place to spend all your time, you like your small apartment tucked downtown above a coffee shop. It has a hominess that feels more like you. That is a little less sterile. 
Sun cracks over the city, spilling light like yolk over the buildings. You shield your eyes as you make your way down the sidewalk, shafts of light falling between buildings. The subway is full of people heading to work. Everyone shuffles without speaking, some buttoning collars of uniforms while others close their eyes in seats, headphones snug over their head. 
The lull of the train as it starts makes you drowsy, but you fight to stay awake. Now that you don’t spend hours sleeping in and recovering from servicing clients late into the night, you value your mornings. Want to be the kind of person whose business hours are during the day, to feel the sun on your skin. 
At your stop, you disappear in the flow of people going up the steps. The concrete above is still wet from the rain the night before, your steps tapping wetly as you go. It’s still summer, but the wind in the shade is cool as you enter the parking garage of your building, heading toward the elevator. 
It’s mostly empty, people having left for work already. There’s a single black SUV by the elevator that you don’t recognize, the windows too dark to see inside. As you approach the car, you realize that it’s on, idling quietly. 
Years of living in the wrong part of town have you slowing your steps. Your eyes flicker to the plate to see a metal shield over it, hiding the numbers on the vehicle. The back of your neck tingles. You come to a full stop, staring at the running vehicle. No one makes a move to get out and there’s no indication that someone is inside.
While you don’t live in the luxurious part of town, your neighborhood is relatively safe. It’s not without instances, but you live deep into Yoongi’s territory, his foothold on this block strong. You’ve never had to worry about walking down the road by yourself at night or making it to your apartment when drunk.
Now, you’re worried. Instinct needles you sharply. There is no reason to think the SUV means you any harm, but something is screaming at you to walk away. 
Then the elevator opens and a normal looking man and woman exit. They don’t pay you any mind as they get into the vehicle, shutting the back door. Your nerves ease and you laugh at yourself for being so ridiculous. There’s no reason for anyone to be doing something nefarious this early in the morning. 
Shaking yourself out of it, you walk the rest of the way to the elevator. As you reach your hand to press the button to call the elevator car, you hear the sound of the car doors opening. You whip your head to look over your shoulder as men get out of the passenger seat and the back seat.
Instinct kicks in. You turn and run, screaming shrilly for anyone that can hear you. They take off after you, steps thundering against the pavement as the SUV squeals its tires to back out of the spot and peel after you. There’s nowhere to go but out into the street. You head for the sidewalk only to be snatched from behind and lifted off your feet.
You react immediately. You throw your elbow back, connecting to one of the men’s faces. He screams and you hear bones crunch. He drops you but your knees buckle, a mix of fear and lack of coordination making you fall to the ground. The other man is on top of you, pressing you into the ground as you scream savagely, kicking your limbs to wiggle out of his grip. 
He grabs your hair and pulls. You yell out, eyes smarting from the sting in your scalp as he then shoves your face into the ground. It hurts. Pain blooms in the side of your face. You’re aware of tiny pieces of gravel digging into soft skin, cutting up your face. The sting is small in comparison to the throb that pulses through your cheekbone as he grinds your face into the pavement. 
Screams echo in the garage as you’re yanked backwards. There are several hands on you, grip like iron. You snarl and yank your limbs to no avail. Just as you’re pulled into the interior of the car, a piece of cloth is slapped hard against your face. You gasp in surprise, a pungent smell filling your nose before you feel a swift fog take over, your mind fading until there is nothing left. 
-
Pain. It’s the first thing you feel when you come to. It’s a slow sort of drift toward awareness, like sluggishly swimming to the surface of a deep lake. You manage to drag yourself there, but immediately want to sink back into the nothingness again once you feel how much you hurt. 
Your face perhaps hurts the most. Not only does your skin burn, but it feels like you’ve been rocked with a cinderblock on the left side of your face. You dully recall having your head pressed into the concrete with near bone-breaking force. It explains why when you open your eyes, the left feels a little swollen. 
The room you’re in is empty. Your shoulder muscles are on fire, hands tied behind your back in the chair you’re sitting in. It’s hard to pinpoint what hurts worse, body littered with bruises and injuries. Still, you’re alive and that has to count for something. 
A man leans against the wall across from you. He watches you curiously. When you become aware of him, you straighten a little in the seat. Your ass tingles with the numbness of sitting there for who knows how long, and your biceps strain with the movement, making you hiss. 
“I’d like to untie you,” the man offers. “But I need a guarantee that you’ll behave.”
You want out of the ropes, so you nod your head. He nods once and pushes off the wall, walking over to you. You use the nearness of his proximity to gather as many details as you can: Patek watch, a basic model. He smells like mandarin and something spicy like pepper - maybe an Arabian fragrance. The suit he’s in is well-tailored and when he pulls a knife out of his pocket to cut the ropes around your wrist, you see a mother-of-pearl handle. 
Money. This man has money. 
Relief makes you sigh, melting into the chair when the pressure in your shoulder blades releases. You immediately lift your hands and place them into your lap, rubbing your trembling fingers across your palms, pressing firmly to encourage blood flow. Your handles tingle as the circulation begins to return to normal, though you can’t make a fist or move all of your appendages immediately. 
The man backs away and leans against the wall once more. He’s incredibly handsome, the kind of guy who might be an actor or in the movie industry, perhaps. You continue to assess him, placing him a few years older than yourself. His hands are linked in front of him. No marriage ring, no tan to indicate there was once a band there either. 
The expensive cologne matched with the watch leads you to believe someone else picked them out, which leaves you with two options: a lover or a sales associate. Judging the make of the watch, you know it doesn’t look like a limited edition series, so not a very personal gift, if a gift at all. And while the cologne smells expensive, it’s too spicy for a day scent, indicating that he doesn’t have someone to tell him the difference between night and daytime colognes.
If you have to guess, they’re things he’s purchased himself on the advice of a sales associate or because of the amount of numbers on the price tag. It’s a habit that comes with new money.
“I apologize for the roughness,” he offers. “It wasn’t my intent to hurt you.”
“Intent matters little. Results matter a lot.”
“Well said.”
Feeling starts to come back to your hands as you flex them. You’re in some sort of construction building. It looks like maybe an apartment building in the making, with plastic tarps covering the windows and metal scaffolding exposing unfinished concrete. Outside, you think you faintly hear the sound of docks and workers.
“Do you know where we are?”
You look him up and down. “We’re in a building. You’re against a wall, and I’m in a chair.”
He scoffs. “Smart mouth.”
“You asked a question.”
“So I did. We’re in a building that was supposed to be my next venture. Someone, however, got in the way and created a bunch of red tape with the city. Now my funding has been slashed and this building has been sitting unfinished for a year, draining me of my property taxes.”
“Well,” you deadpan. “I’m a whore, not a lender. I can’t get you a loan.”
He grins, but you can’t tell if he’s amused. “You’re not just any whore though, are you? I have on good authority you service high profile clients. One of your clients is the reason this building is stuck in paperwork, and now he wants to take even more from me. I can’t let that happen.” 
Yoongi. He’s talking about Yoongi and you know it. You try not to squirm in your seat, meeting his dark eyes head on. Your mind is trying to make decisions and keep up as much as possible, funneling through the list of names Yoongi has mentioned, anything at all that can give you a leg up.
“High profile clients are where the money is,” you admit. You think perhaps this man is Kwan Daehyun, whom Yoongi has been playing chess with for the better part of a year. “I don’t like to sell information on my clients, but I suppose you know that since you kidnapped me.”
“Consider the sales price on this particular client’s information to be your life. I just need a little bit of information, and you’re free.”
You shrug. “You’ve got me there. What do you want to know?”
“Min Yoongi.” You continue to stare at him, giving away nothing. Your heart is racing in your chest and you try to keep your hands from shaking. When you continue not to answer, he clicks his tongue, annoyed. “What can you tell me about his weaknesses?”
You can’t help it, you laugh. Kwan frowns as you giggle. It hurts to laugh, face bursting with pain as you catch your breath and shake your head. “What a cheesy fucking questions. What, you think I just have a list of things that can hurt Min Yoongi?”
“I know how pillow talk goes. He must talk about his stress. Brag about his assets. What else do men go to whores for?”
“To get their cock sucked, usually.”
Kwan pushes off the wall and storms toward you. You sneer up at him, a little less afraid of him now. He appears small and gutless to you, kidnapping a sex worker to ask for pillow talk secrets to gain a fucking advantage. It means he has nothing on Yoongi and has resorted to pisspoor tactics to get anything usable against Yoongi.
Though how he managed to get to you is unsettling. You’re unsure how he made the connection, or how long he has been watching Yoongi. You find that to be the most irritating, to know that Yoongi has been under surveillance for any period of time. Not that you’ve been smacked around and put in an abandoned building on threat of murder. 
“I will fucking kill you.” 
There is truth in his words. Questioning you is a desperate attempt, but perhaps not his only. It occurs to you that he doesn’t thin you hold any value beyond questioning you, and though he’s said he’ll spare you life, you don’t think that’s true. He only sees you as a vacuum for information, and if you don’t have it or you give it to him, he’ll kill you.
You need to be valuable. And fast. 
“Kill me and you ruin any chance of that deal with him.” Kwan hesitates, eyes darkening as the words spill out of your mouth, “In fact, that was probably already off the table as soon as you had me physically harmed and dragged into a car here. So now, you should stop asking me about what Yoongi’s weaknesses are and start asking, what will Min Yoongi do if you call him and tell him who you kidnapped and tied to a fucking chair.” 
Kwan narrows his eyes. You see him assessing the weight of your words. You fight the urge to leap at him and reach for the folding knife in his pocket. Just because you can’t see a gun doesn’t mean there’s not one, and just because you can’t see or hear anyone else in the building doesn’t mean they aren’t there.
Outside you can hear the cry of a seagull. When you breathe in, you smell ocean water and salt. Definitely keeping you in a building by the docks. You think you know the one. Kwan takes a few steps back from you and crosses his arms over his chest. 
“You think he gives a shit if I have you?”
“You asked for Yoongi’s weakness. You’re looking at it.” 
“I think you’re bullshiting me. I think you’re a whore he won’t deal for.”
“One way to find out, right?”
Instead of answering, Kwan turns on his heel and walks towards the opaque tarp. He walks through it and two men replace him at the entrance. Both of them are armed, staring down at you. Ignoring them, you roll your neck in slow circles, trying to ease the soreness.
Tentatively, you reach a hand up to your face, pressing your fingers into your cheek. You hiss, the pain still raw and present underneath your fingers. You can feel small scabs from where the gravel broke skin, but thankfully it doesn’t feel like your eyes are too swollen. 
Time passes. You remain in the chair, fidgeting now that you’re awake. Your tongue is heavy in your dry mouth and your lips begin to burn from wetting them constantly, only to be dried out by the salty air. You feel itchy and irritable, trying not to squirm too much in the chair lest you disturb the guards.
Most of all, without having to put on a brave performance, you feel afraid. Afraid of being here by yourself in this warehouse, afraid that you’ve made a mistake trying to make yourself valuable, afraid that Kwan isn’t going to give you a chance to talk to Yoongi as proof of life. 
You’re not versed in this part of Yoongi’s life. So much of his business has been held separate from you. The violence and the extortion and the sketchy deals have always been something he did outside of that room at the Red. You’re not afraid of this life, though. Just unprepared and trying to guess what to do next, fueled by poorly written crime movies and stories that Yoongi has told you in the warmth of your bed.
It feels like hours have gone by when Kwan comes back into the room. You sit up straight when you see the phone in his hand and see the fire in his eyes. He looks like a man who has had something go right - which means you have him right where you want him, if he’s doing what you think he is. 
Kwan holds out the phone to you. “You have five minutes to talk to him as an act of good faith on my proposal.”
You see Yoongi’s name on the caller idea and try not to start crying. Swallowing thickly, you lick your lips again and bring the phone up to your ear. The tremble in your hand and your voice isn’t a performance when you say, “Hello?”
“Where are you? He hasn’t told me.”
“Yeah, I’m alive.” You sniff a little. “Agh, don’t make me cry. My face will get saltier than it already is.”
“I need more than that, Angel. He’s trying to make deals with me, but I need to know where you are to come get you. He won’t tell me where you’re at unless I wire over money and legally sign over assets.”
“No, he hasn’t hurt me. He’s been polite, though I’ve been kind of a beach- bitch. I’ve been a bitch. Sorry, I’m very tired.”
“Is it the building in the warehouse district at the docks? That apartment shell?”
“Yes, I can do that. Just… please agree to whatever he says, I feel tired and loaded. Bloated. Sorry, I’m confusing words again.”
“Yeah, well I’ve got fucking guns too. We’re going to come get you okay?”
This time when you sniff, you feel actual tears. Of relief that he understands your weird turns of phrase, of the terror at knowing he’s going to have to come get you. To risk his life for you. You knew he would, and yet you almost hate to ask him. 
“Thank you.” 
“You’ll be okay, Angel, but I need you to listen.” 
“Okay.” 
His voice is firm as he says, “I need you to do whatever it is you need to do to protect yourself. Don’t think twice about it. It is you or them, do you understand me? There is almost a certainty you are going to have to kill someone when we come get you. Start thinking about it now. Try to get used to it so that when the time comes, you’re not afraid anymore.” 
“Okay. I love you.” 
“See you soon.”
-
Yoongi likes to think that he is an expert in control. His compartmentalization is unmatched, and though he is incredibly proud, his pride is not easily wounded. Foolish slights and insults don’t rile him the way they might have in his youth, and physical threats of harm are amusing, especially when no very few people carry through on their threat. 
When Yoongi hangs up the phone, he loses every ounce of control he’s ever felt. Never has his urge to destroy been so sharp. He sees red, slamming his hands across his desk and swiping everything off. He tastes metal in his mouth as he bites through his cheek, screaming as he hammers his fists on top of the desk hard enough that he thinks he might split the wood. 
Hoseok and Seokjin hear the commotion, crashing into the office with Namjoon and Jungkook behind them, weapons drawn. Yoongi is shaking when he looks up at them, the phone screen cracked in his hand. He cannot stop shaking, the adrenaline coursing through his veins like a dose of heroin. 
All of their voices sound like a mess of sounds. The ringing in his ears overpowers everything they’re saying as he stands there, hands at his side, mind racing and chest heaving as he pants. Why is he panting? Yoongi feels like he’s suddenly not getting enough air, dropping his phone to loosen the tie around his neck, trying to give himself more room to breathe. Why do his clothes feel so fucking tight?
Suddenly it’s like there isn’t enough air in the room. Yoongi feels the tunnel vision come up on him fast. Chills spread through his body as he wavers, hands held out as he tries to catch his breath. He feels hands on him trying to steady him, but he yanks away from them. They feel too close, too much in his space and he needs more room. Room to get this blazer off and breathe. Breathe, why can’t he breathe? 
Yoongi stumbles into a wall. His vision pulses on the edges and he can vaguely make out Hoseok’s voice. He looks up at him and sees his friend, his advisor. Hoseok isn’t touching him, but his head is cocked as he tries to keep and maintain eye contact with Yoongi. 
“Inhale for seven seconds,” Hoseok says. “Then exhale for seven. I’ll count.”
“What?” Yoongi demands.
“You’re having an anxiety attack.” Hoseok states it as if it’s the most common thing in the world. “You have to regulate your breathing or you’re going to pass out. If you pass out, we can’t help.” 
It’s the only thing that gets him to listen. He counts with Hoseok, drawing in long breaths.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven.
Yoongi has to shake this. Has to get ready and call his people, needs to make plans to come get you. He knows exactly where you are - wants to fucking kiss you for how clever you mange to be even while terrified. 
One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven.
He knows you’re afraid. Yoongi has never heard your voice tremble like that since he’s known you. He knows every tone of your voice, every color to the spectrum of your sounds, able to pick them apart to know how you feel. And while you spoke in a clear tone, it was all wrong. Colored with terror. Voice soft and rough and wavering. 
One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven.
The ringing in his ears fade. Yoongi continues to take slow, deep breaths. His hands are still shaking and he feels a little light headed, but when he blinks a few times and looks around, he sees his closest men and confidants standing around him, waiting. 
“Talk to us,” Hoseok urges. “What’s going on?”
“Kwan has my girl. They’re in that apartment project we froze in the docks.”
“He told you where they were?”
“No, she did.”
Hoseok looks weary. “That sounds like a trap - did he already offer you a deal?”
“He said several things. He didn’t tell me where they were, she did.”
“In front of-”
“Hoseok, stop asking stupid questions or I swear to fucking god I’ll hit you first. She’s not used to any of this, but she isn’t fucking stupid. She used the words salt, beach and loaded. They’re in that building and they’re armed.”
“Poetic,” Seokjin grunts. Yoongi cuts his gaze to his head of security and the man pales. “Sorry, bad timing.”
“Get every fucking person we know on the fucking ground and here. We’re going to get her.”
“They’ll see us coming from a mile away.”
Yoongi stares at Seokjin. “I don’t give a fuck. Kwan wanted to find a weakness, well he found one. And now I’m going to paint that shitty little development with his blood.”
An hour later is when it hits Yoongi. He stops in the middle of tying a shoe and he stands. He’s replaying the conversation with you over and over in his head, looking for any other details he could have missed. He was so fucking proud of you for getting your point across even while scared, but now it’s something else he thinks of.
I love you. He had almost not realized you said it at all at the end of the call. He can’t remember if he said it back, but he’s suddenly sick over the what if of it all. What if he doesn’t get to say it back? What if he gets there and swarms in, only to find you dead? 
In a moment of panic, he texts Hoseok to request proof of life on the hour every hour from Kwan under the guise of considering his horrendous deal. Kwan, of course, thinks he’s got Yoongi. He doesn’t, naturally. They haven’t agreed on a time or place to meet, and Kwan does not seem to understand just how poorly he’s miscalculated. 
None of it matters. All that matters is that Yoongi is going to come get you like he promised, and he is never letting you out of his sight again. 
-
Surprisingly, your living conditions change a little upon Kwan learning that you’re more valuable kept alive and in decent condition than beat up or dead. He has a cot and a fan brought in, along with an ice back for your cheek and a thermos of water.
You crush the thermos almost immediately. Though you’re kept under armed guards now, you’re relieved to be able to lay down and stretch your sore limbs. When the ice pack finally grows hot and melts on your aching cheekbone, one of the guards gets you a new one without question.
It almost makes you feel bad for what is to come. Almost. 
You know Yoongi. It’s why you gambled with a hostage play in the first place. He won’t let them have you and it doesn’t matter what Kwan offers him, Yoongi is far too powerful to accept deals from the likes of Kwan. It isn’t so much a matter of pride as it is a matter of power. You know Yoongi has the power to pull you out of this without further harm. 
At least, you have put every ounce of trust and confidence in him that you have. 
Time moves slowly. It’s hard to know how fast Yoongi will mobilize or what his plan is. It would make sense for him to perhaps cause a distraction elsewhere to get Kwan’s eyes off of you, but it’s also a dangerous game to play with a hostage. 
It doesn’t matter. Yoongi has his job and you have yours, which is to work the screw out of one of the cots joints. You’ve picked one that isn’t imperative to the overall structure of the cot. It can bear your weight without the screw as long as you don’t lean on the joint too much. It takes you a while to unscrew it with your bare fingers, all while lying on your back trying to look uninterested in anything.
I need you to do whatever it is you need to do to protect yourself. 
Finally, you pull the cool metal free. You slide it into the pocket of your sweatpants. The weight of it feels better than nothing. It won’t do much damage, but a well placed punch to the face with the screw between your knuckles will do what you need, even if you damage your hand to do it. 
You’ve never killed someone. Thought about it a few times, maybe. Had some people try to sway you to slip something into a client’s drink, but you never accepted. Killing isn’t your business. It’s Yoongi’s, but you know that if he’s telling you to take the chance, it’s because he wants you to live. 
The thought is chilling. You rest your hand on the pocket, feeling the shape of the screw. You don’t know how to kill. You’re not even entirely sure that you have it in you. You’ve seen people die and you’ve seen people murder. It seems easy.
You’re not sure if it’s that simple. 
It’s late into the night when a commotion draws you from your half-slumber. You lift your head as someone comes in and mutters something to the guards. They nod and one of them leaves, the other turning to face you with a glare, hand resting just inside his jacket where you assume there’s a gun.
Outside, you hear the sound of peeling tires as a car takes off. 
Nerves take over. You feel your heartbeat pickup as you continue to lay on the cot, one hand under your pillow. It’s hard to think of what might be happening over the sound of your own pulse, but you try to regulate your breathing. There’s nothing happening right that second that you can control, so there’s no reason to panic.
A few minutes go by. It’s agony, waiting with bated breath. It’s quiet outside except for the sounds of the ocean and the mostly empty warehouses and docks. Plastic snaps in the breeze, loud in the silence of your waiting. You think that this is the worst part, the anticipation for what’s to come. You can’t sleep now even if you tried. 
When the first round of gunfire comes, you almost lose control of your bowels. It’s a shameful sort of fear that takes you by surprise, making you freeze up. You have been waiting for it, and yet now that you can hear the sound of automatic weapons somewhere below, it feels worse than you imagined. 
Looking up at the guard at the door, you reel in surprise to see him rushing toward you. Time seems to slow down. The sound of guns and yelling fade to the background everything suddenly becomes hyper focused. 
I need you to do whatever it is you need to do to protect yourself. 
As the guard leans to pick you up, you strike like a snake, pulling the screw from your pocket and jabbing upward with a savage scream.
His guttural cry splits the night. You feel hot blood spray your hand and dot your face as you plunge the blunt screw into his eye socket. Blood makes your fingers slippery and as he falls onto his back, hands clutching his face, you lose your grip. 
I need you to do whatever it is you need to do to protect yourself. 
No hesitation. You dive for him, stained hands searching for the weapon. The metal of the gun slides in your slick fingers. Through the blinding pain, the guard realizes what you’re doing and grabs your forearms. You pull back against him but can’t shake his grip, your hand stuck in his jacket on the gun. You finger the trigger and squeeze, but it doesn’t budge. The fucking safety. 
Sliding a knee down, you crush the cap of your knee between his legs, pressing his balls with your full weight. He screams and his grip goes slack. You yank on the gun, almost dropping it as it slides free from the holster. Your grip is clumsy and shaking, your heart pounding so hard you think you might die of fright before you manage to find the safety on the hammer and pull it back. 
I need you to do whatever it is you need to do to protect yourself. 
Click. Squeeze. Bang. 
You don’t aim. Don’t have the sense to at that moment. This close, you don’t have to aim at all. You hit your target and his yelling turns to shrieks. You can’t tell where you’ve shot him, all you know is that you have. You scramble away, hands slipping on the floor, gun clutched clumsily in your hand. 
A hand goes around your ankle and you scream as he drags you backward. You roll onto your back, bringing the gun up again, trying to aim in the general direction of his chest.
Squeeze. Bang. 
It’s so loud. Your ears are ringing and you’re unable to hear anything as the grip on your ankle immediately goes slack. The guard goes limp, the fight leaving him immediately. You don’t look - can’t look. Can’t focus on anything but the way your vision tunnels. 
Dizziness sweeps over you as you crawl away from him again. Your knees and palms might hurt if you could feel anything at all, but numbness starts to take over as you manage to press yourself against a wall near the doorway. You don’t dare move toward it, too untrained to handle a gun while terrified. 
“Angel!” you hear Yoongi’s voice screaming somewhere in the building. You open your mouth but nothing comes out. Your lips tremble. You try to find your voice, willing the words to come. Mouth open, his name on the tip of your tongue, you can’t find a response. “Angel, come on, baby! Where are you?”
“Yoongi,” you whisper. It’s not nearly loud enough and your voice cracks on the name. You close your eyes and take a deep, shuddering breath as you muster strength behind your voice. “Yoongi!” 
“That’s it, keep talking to me.” 
It sounds like he is yelling somewhere down a stairwell, voice echoing up concrete walls. “Up!” You start to curl into yourself. “Yoongi, up!” 
Steps thunder in the stairwell. You drop the gun next to you and look at your hands. They’re slick and wet. In a panic, you start wiping them on your sweatpants, smearing red as you do. You viciously wipe your hands. You want the blood off, you don’t want it all over you, it’s hot and stick and it’s not yours and it belongs to the dead man who was trying to take you-
Warm hands grab your face and tilt you upward. You blink through blurry tears. Yoongi looks back at you, his forehead sweaty and his slicked back hair a little messy. He turns your face from side to side as more of his men flood into the room, guns raised.
Yoongi’s mouth moves but you can’t hear him. You shake your head, looking up at him. His grip softens and the gentle brush of his thumb back and forth across your face eases the rising panic inside of you. You sniff, taking a few slow, trembling breaths. 
“Are you seriously injured?” Yoongi asks again, voice rough. Cracking. “Do you need medical attention?”
“No.”
“The blood-” You shake your head violently, closing your eyes. “Okay. It’s okay. You did what you needed to do, Angel. I’m going to get you on your feet and take you home, okay?” 
“I don’t-”
“My home. Not yours. You’re coming home.”
Yoongi doesn’t need to explain what he means. As he slowly pulls you to your feet, you know what he’s telling you. You’re going to his estate, because it’s yours too now. The agreement is unspoken but mutual. You don’t want to go back to your apartment. You don’t want to go back to the Red. Right now, all you want is to wash the blood from your hands and get away from this place. 
Seokjin is at the door with a blanket. He wraps it around you as Yoongi keeps his hands around your waist, steadying you as you walk. You get down two levels of stairs before he tucks you into him and presses his lips against your temple.
“Close your eyes,” he murmurs, mouth moving against your skin. “I won’t let you trip.”
You do as you’re told. His steps are confident and careful as he leads you through the bottom floor. You hear the murmur of voices, the flapping of plastic tarp, and the humming engines of vehicles. Yoongi lifts you lightly and helps you get into the cool interior of a car that smells like leather. 
When the door shuts, you flinch and open your eyes, staring straight forward. Yoongi is next to you, arm going around your shoulders as he pulls you into his side again. You realize for the first time as you glance at him that there’s blood on his face and in his hair. His knee bounces up and down, his hand resting against it, still gripping a gun with the safety off. 
“Are we safe?” you whisper, staring at his gun. 
“Yes.”
“Then why-”
“It makes me feel better,” he admits. “I just need to come down.”
“Okay.” 
“Look at me.”
You do. His eyes are dark and though his mouth is pinched at the corners and the vein throbs in his forehead, his eyes are soft for you. “I love you,” he murmurs. “We’re safe.”
-
A week makes the pain in your cheekbone fade away. A week does not make the memory of squeezing the trigger fade. At night, the memory is worse. What your mind had been unable to remember at first comes back in full-clarity at night, gripping you in your sleep and dragging you down into an endless terror until Yoongi pries you from the clutches of your nightmares and wakes you. 
It’s easier with him by your side, though. You’re at least able to fall asleep, if not stay asleep through the night. When he wakes you from screaming and thrashing in the sheets, you’re able to settle against him, his hold on you firm. Comforting.
Yoongi takes this in stride. He doesn’t complain, doesn’t lose his patience. He simply murmurs that he gets it and holds you, his skin warm and smelling like home. 
Home. 
The estate is a sprawling mass of elegance that stuns you each day. Beyond the opulence of the home and the luxury that it offers, what matters most is the security. The personnel at every entrance, the high gate with cameras and alarms, the three lurking dobermans that still terrify you when you see them standing in a dark hall at night or watching you in the kitchen when you get a glass of water after a nightmare. 
Nox has come around to liking you, at least. She’s become your shadow in the house, which had made you a little unsure at first. Now, she trails you up the stairs and to the master bedroom. You’ve grown used to her - prefer it, even, when Yoongi is not home like right now. 
Erebus and Khonsu are on the floor of the master bedroom. Both watch you as you enter, unbothered but aware. Where their younger sister has adopted you as an owner and a thing to protect, they still seem set on Yoongi only. 
The three dogs remain in the bedroom as you end the bathroom. It makes you feel safe to know that even if someone managed to get through the gates, up the driveway, through the secured doors and the dozen people that Yoongi has stationed at the estate since your kidnapping, the dogs are another line of defense. 
So is the gun under the bathroom cabinet and in the nightstand, but you don’t want to touch a gun ever again. Not if the nightmares it gives are like this. 
Steam fills the room accompanied by the scent of eucalyptus. Carefully, you peel the clothes from your body and toss them into a corner. The stone shower is warm with heated floors and a digital panel both inside and outside for control of the fifteen different water settings. There’s even steam options, but you simply turn on the rain feature, slipping under the dripping ceiling. 
The hot, wet taps of the water lull you into a trance. You stand with your head tilted down, letting the rivulets of water run the full length of your body.
“Angel, I’m home,” Yoongi calls from the bedroom. You smile, appreciating that he announces his presence instead of sneaking up on you. He’s always careful to make noise when he enters rooms now and announces his arrival. “You just get in?”
“Yeah,” you call back. “Join me?”
“Give me five.” 
When he finally enters the bathroom, you turn around to look at him. He’s already pulling the tie around his neck loose, dropping it to the ground. You catch sight of the red across his knuckles. Though he is free of blood - an effort on his part now to bring it home to you - you notice the days where he comes home and his knuckles are split or bruised, hands aching. 
Watching Yoongi undress captures your full attention. His movements are slow and methodical. His back is to you, shirt dripping off his broad shoulders to join the tie on the floor. He looks up in the mirror and pauses, dark eyes catching yours. You raise a brow and gesture for him to continue. When he does, it’s with his tongue poking his cheek and a smirk. 
Knowing that you’re watching, Yoongi turns it into an art. His fingers trace the top of his slacks before he slowly undoes the belt, pulling it with a satisfying hiss through the loops before holding it out to the side and letting it clatter to the floor. Your eyes are zeroed in on his reflection in the mirror as he works the button open, peeling the top of his pants apart to reveal the logo of his briefs. 
Yoongi pauses. Your eyes dart up to his in the mirror to find him watching you, eyes dark. The scar looks menacing today. You squeeze your thighs together, chewing on your bottom lip. He notices, smirk growing as he rolls the slacks down his thighs and kicks them aside. You see the imprint of his half-hard cock in his briefs, your attention on him alone enough to get his blood pumping.
You’ll never get over having that effect on him. Knowing that even after the nightmares and becoming an inconvenience - in your eyes, at least - the chemistry between you isn’t gone. It’s still there, a burning candle. 
Slowly, Yoongi peels off his briefs. His heavy cock bobs as he steps out of them and you feel your pussy clench around nothing, just thinking about him stretching you open. He says nothing about the small bead of precum at the tip as he turns and walks over to the shower.
He’s built beautifully. Broad shoulders with a slim, tapered waist. Strong arms and large hands, firm chest and soft but muscular stomach. Yoongi is the perfect blend of pretty and rugged, a combination that you didn’t know existed until him. 
When he steps into the shower, you step further into the water, making room for him. He shuts the door and frowns at the distance between you, holding out his hand. You take it immediately and he pulls you forward, careful not to let you slip on the tile.
He doesn’t waste a moment. Yoongi’s mouth captures yours, wet from the shower water as he sucks your bottom lip between his teeth, nipping lightly. You hum, bringing your arms to loop around his neck, fingers combing through his wet hair. His cock presses against your lower stomach, and you shiver. 
Yoongi’s kisses are addicting. Slow, like he has all the time in the world, but hungry, like he can’t get enough. His tongue brushes the roof of your mouth, his teeth pulling at your lip again when he pulls his mouth away to press open-mouthed kisses on your jaw. 
Tilting your head back, you let him pepper kisses along your throat. You close your eyes, letting him hold you to him. The room tilts as you sway in his arms, the feeling of him licking the hollow of your throat entrancing. It’s so simple yet it feels so good. 
One arm loops around your waist to keep you pressed to Yoongi, his other slides up your wet skin to cup your breast. You let out a breathy moan when you feel his thumb circle your stiff nipple, the stimulation so bare but so good. 
Yoongi keeps you cradled against him, mouth working your neck and shoulder and back up to your mouth while his thumb lazily plays with your nipple. You're pliant in his arms, letting him do whatever he wants with you.
His mouth starts to descend and when he finally takes your nipple into his mouth, you can’t stop the whine that escapes you. He hums as he sucks gently, tongue flicking back and forth over the peak. You can’t help but twitch in his arms, a ripple of pleasure sliding through you. 
Heat pulses between your legs and you feel the slick gathering in your folds. Your legs squeeze together again as Yoongi drags his teeth over your sensitive nipple before letting go and switching to the other. This time, he looks up at you through dark, wet lashes, sticking out his devilish tongue as he uses the tip to trace your skin.
“Show off,” you mutter, voice shaking. 
He laughs and runs the flat of his tongue over your nipple before giving a sharp suck that has you arching into him. “You love having your tits in my mouth,” he shoots back. He bites the top of your breast softly, teeth scraping your soft skin. “Don’t deny it.”
“I plead the fifth.”
“Hmmm.” 
“You don’t have to say anything,” he teases. The hand around your back slides down to your ass. He grabs a handful, squeezing generously. “Can you turn around for me? Legs spread so I can see that pretty pussy.” 
“Fuck.” 
He drops his arms so you can turn around. You press your palms against the wall, shivering as the cold tile leeches the warmth from you. The temperature difference makes the room tilt. You slide your legs apart and stick your ass out toward him, lifting a little. 
“Fuck yeah.” 
You can’t see him, but you feel him as he slides down to his knees. His palms grip your ass, spreading your cheeks open. You close your eyes and let your head hang between your arms when it feels too heavy to hold up yourself. 
“Just want a quick taste,” Yoongi mutters.
“Shiiiit,” you hiss, feeling his tongue dance up and down your cunt. He licks you in broad, slow stripes before he puts his entire mouth on you and sucks sharply. “Just like that.” 
“Fuck.” The smack of his lips against your wet heat are bracketed by the slick sound of him stroking his cock, the filthy sounds echoing in the shower. “I could eat you out every day.”
“You do.”
“Fine.” His tongue zigzags back and forth, reaching to swirl around your click. He kisses your cunt and stands up. “I’ll make it twice a day, then.” 
The blunt head of his cock slides between your folds. You press back toward him, eager to have him push in and split you open. He tuts at you, giving you a gentle smack on your ass. “Eager.”
“I’ve been waiting all fucking day for it, Yoongi. Give it to me.” 
“Mmm.” 
The feeling of Yoongi sinking his cock into you slowly drives you mad. You feel like you can’t breathe, every inch of his thick length stretching your walls to the max. It feels like he’s in your guts when he bottoms out, the pressure immense and good and dizzying. 
He starts slow, giving a few shallow thrusts as you adjust to be pried open. You relax around him, falling into the pleasure as he begins to fuck you in earnest. Hands on your waist, he pulls your ass backwards, meeting every one of his strokes in a loud, wet smack of hips on ass.
A shiver ripples down your spine and you moan when he adjusts the angle, prodding your g-spot. “Yeah?” he asks through gritted teeth. “That the spot?”
“Yes, please fuck me just like that.”
Nothing else exists beyond this. The steam makes your skin even hotter, cloying the air and making it hard to breathe. It makes everything fuzzy, like you’re drifting in and out of reality, pleasure unfolding in you as you squeeze around his cock. 
Each snap of his hips is punctuated with stilted breath. You’re gasping, thighs burning as you take every inch of him, fingers curling against the wall, eyes rolling back as you fall into a mute space. You make sound but no words come out, the pressure against that spot inside of you driving you mad. 
Yoongi slides a hand from your waist over the curve of your ass and between your cheeks, thumb pressing gently on the rim of your ass. You let out a loud moan, fingers trying to grab the wall to no avail. The new stimulation feels delicious, Yoongi’s thumb pressing against your asshole in time with his strokes. He doesn’t push past the ring of muscles, but it doesn’t matter - it’s enough to send you careening closer to your orgasm, toeing the line of insanity. 
“Fuck, Angel,” he pants, fucking into you harder. “Just like that, make it fucking creamy. You gonna come?” 
“Fuuuuck yeah.”
His thumb presses harder against your rim. “Come on, give it to me.” 
“Shit shit shit shit.” 
You lose the ability to say anything. Your body folds forward, only held up by Yoongi and the press of the freezing cold wall as he fucks you with precision. It sends you over the edge, your knees knocking as you come, fists pressing into the wall as you yell through it. 
The sound of the shower is drowned out by your babbling. Yoongi thrusts hard a few more times, hand slipping away from your ass to grip your waist hard, chasing his high. He comes with a loud curse, fingers digging into your skin. 
For a moment, he leans into you, pressing his cock as far in as he can go. Your pussy throbs around him, every pulse ebbing around him. He presses kisses up your spine, hands sliding up your ribs to pull you upright until your back is against his chest. 
“Fuck,” he pants, voice rough. “I’m so glad you’re mine.”
“I’ve always been yours.”
“I mean entirely. Without sharing.”
You pause, looking up at him with a frown. “You know I haven’t been… taking clients for two years, right?”
He pauses. “What?”
“You stupid boy,” you laugh, laying your head against his shoulder. “Of course I wasn’t. I just wanted you.” 
“Then why stay there?”
You shrug a shoulder, letting your eyes fall closed. The warmth of the orgasm blooms through you, Yoongi’s skin hot against your back and  the shower hotter still. “It was a place I knew you’d be safe when you visited. And I didn’t want to ask you for more. Everyone always wants more from you. I just wanted you.”
“All that time, I could have just… asked you to come home?”
“Yes. But it’s okay. I’m home now.”
He kisses your neck. “You are home, Angel.” 
3K notes · View notes
itgetsdark-x · 1 year
Text
I Wanna See You Beggin’
Summary: Joel Miller is your dad’s best friend, you knew it was wrong, you knew it would only cause trouble but you couldn’t help the way you ached for the man. (Title is from I Hate Myself for Loving You — Joan Jett & The Blackhearts) 6.9k words. I’m sorry.
Characters: dbf!Joel Miller x f!Reader
Warnings: 18+ only, no minors as it’s just a big ol’ load of smut… praise kink (use of ‘good girl’ a lot), p in v sex, unprotected (be sensible and wrap before u tap, pls), age gap (reader is mid twenties, Joel would be in his late 40s), use of the word ‘daddy’, oral (f receiving), no outbreak in this au.
A/N: hi guys, I haven’t written smut for years and Joel Miller has me frothing at the mouth and giggling like a little girl with a crush especially dbf!joel… Anyway, if this is enjoyed by people, I have an idea of how I could make this into a series. Please leave me nice comments or catch me crying in a corner somewhere lol
Tumblr media
“Dad,” you huffed into the receiver as you held your phone to your ear with your shoulder. “I love you and all but I could think of better ways to spend my Friday night rather than listening to you and Joel argue over which 80’s band is the best.” You chuckled fondly as you carried on typing away at the laptop in front of you whilst you spoke into your phone. 
“Sweetheart, I love spending time with you and Joel, you love him as well! I’ll pay for dinner?” He spoke softly and you smiled as your could hear your dad’s smile down the phone. 
“Fine, what time do you want me round, old man?” You teased fondly. “I finish work at 5 today.”
“6:30pm work okay for you? Don’t forget to bring some beer.” Your dad asked with a smirk. 
You rolled your eyes before responding to him, “Fine, I’ll bring the beers but as soon as you and the other old man start arguing, I’m out!” You laughed. 
“Deal,” your dad agreed. “I’ll see you later my sweet pea, love you!” He hummed and hung up before you could respond. 
“Old men and technology.” You muttered to yourself before taking your phone and opening your messaging app. 
You quickly tapped on the screen and chewed on your lip as you did so. 
‘You need a lift to dad’s later? x’ you hit send and placed your phone down on your desk, returning your attention back to your work laptop. You were in the midst of replying to an email when your phone buzzed on your desk beside you. 
‘Sure thing, peach. See you around 6? :) Xx’
You couldn’t help the way your lips upturned into a smile, and as soon as you caught the reaction you chewed on your bottom lip. You hated the way the older male had such a visceral effect on you, you had known Joel Miller for around ten years now. You moved to the city and your father worked with him, the two of them soon became best buddies which in turn, meant he spent a lot of time around you and your house. When you first met Joel you were a mere sixteen-year old kid, from day one you felt an instant attraction to him, you knew it was wrong but you couldn’t deny it. In the beginning it felt like a harmless, childish crush, one that you were bound to grow out of but things only seemed to get worse the older you got, that attraction burned deep in your veins and any time you spent time with the older man you couldn’t help the way your cheeks burned and your pussy throbbed; there had been many nights where you had dropped him home after visiting your dad and rushed home just so you could relieve your tension. Your fingers buried deep in yourself, moaning Joel’s name as you came around them. 
You felt shameful, dirty and down-right embarrassed about those moments but it didn’t stop you from doing it again, and again.. and again. You knew Joel would never cross that line, never, he was too much of a gentleman and had way too much respect for your old man but that didn’t stop the feelings you had for him.
Your mind was reeling, so much so you barely noticed the way your thighs pressed themselves together searching for some relief to your aching core, you stood from your desk in your room and stretched before you looked at the time on your desktop, it read 4pm. You sighed and went to your kitchen to grab a snack and make yourself a strong coffee, you had an hour left of work before you had to shower and get ready before picking Joel up. 
The last hour of your work felt excruciatingly slow, your mind was busy with thoughts of your evening ahead of you; it was no different to your usual Friday get-together with your dad and his friend but today you couldn’t erase the filthy thoughts of Joel from your mind. You quickly showered, hoping the hot water would wash your mind and body clean, you ignored the burning to urge to relieve some tension and give your body the orgasm and relief it so badly needed. 
After showering you, you applied a light layer of make-up, like usual before pulling your hair up in a half-up and half-down style. You looked into your wardrobe and reached for a plain black tank top, orange plaid over shirt and black tennis skirt; you paired the outfit with your favourite pair of black converse. You put your accessories on; earrings, rings and gave your body a spritz of your favourite perfume. After grabbing the 12-pack of beer from the fridge, you quickly grabbed your phone and keys off the counter and left your apartment to go and pick up Joel. 
You were running a tad late but that wasn’t out of the ordinary, and Joel was always expecting it. You pulled up outside his home, gave a beep of your horn and took a shaky breath in as you saw him lock up and approach your car. Your hands gripped the steering wheel a little tighter as he climbed into your car and suddenly your senses were attacked with the older male. The small space filled with his heady scent, his aftershave musky, spicy and just Joel. He was wearing dark grey jeans, not too tight but tight enough to appreciate his thick thighs and your eyes couldn’t help but notice his bulge as he walked. Joel was wearing a dark khaki over shirt and a black T-shirt under that went perfectly with his jeans, and of course, he was wearing his trusty dealer boots. 
“Hey peach,” he spoke and leant over to press a kiss to the side of your head. It was something he had done for years, only now, you craved to feel his lips elsewhere. 
“Hey old man.” You grinned and started your car once more. 
The journey to your father’s house was short, only about twenty minutes; it was annoying that he didn’t live in the same neighbourhood as it always meant you or, on occasion, Joel had to drive. It was a comfortable journey as the two of you spoke about your respective day’s and week’s. 
“So you’re not hanging out with that guy again tonight, oh, what was his name!?” Joel questioned, searching his brain for the name. “Derek? No, no, he definitely seemed like a George!” He laughed, his hands resting comfortably on his thigh, you couldn’t help the way your eyes glanced down at his large digits. 
“His name was Ben, and you know that, Joel. You’re just being a dick.” You shook your head quickly with a laugh. “And nope, dad had other ideas for me… clearly babysitting duties. I would much prefer to be out with Ben but here we are…” You said softly with a roll of your eyes, it was a lie, of course. You would happily spend every waking moment with Joel, if he let you, exploring his body, sharing your thoughts with one another. 
His hand tensed on his thigh, it was brief and barely noticeable but you did notice it; that was… weird? You shook off the feeling and parked up outside your dad’s apartment block. 
“Anyway, I love babysitting you old men. It’s cute. Great practice for when I actually want kids.” You laughed, turning off the ignition and climbing out of your car. “And, I’ve warned dad, slightest hint of bickering between you two and I am out. Gone. Done. You can walk home.” As you spoke, you bent over to reach into the back seat of your car to grab the beers, one leg slightly lifted as your body struggled slightly to pull them closer; you hadn’t given the motion much thought, especially in your outfit.
Joel moved until he was stood behind you, he cleared his throat and looked away sheepishly after catching a glimpse of your black, lace panties. His hand rubbed at the back of his neck awkwardly. “Uh hon, you might want me to grab those? Gonna give someone a heart attack if they see you like that.” His voice was soft as he spoke, still not making eye contact with you. 
“Shit. Sorry, Joel.” You cursed, your cheeks flushed red as you watched the dark haired man grab the beers and you smoothed out your skirt.
The rest of the evening played out like usual; your dad and Joel had a few beers each, you allowed yourself to have one as you were driving and you all ate way too much Chinese take-out. It was getting late, you were laid out on your dad’s couch, your legs swung over your dad’s lap, Joel was sat in the lazy-boy across the room, his legs sprawled wide. This was always part of the routine, you would all catch up on your week’s complain about work, talk about sport’s games that had happened or were about to occur, it was familiar and safe. 
“So get this, bud,” Joel spoke, his voice breaking the noise of whatever Depeche Mode record they had put on the player. “Y/N over here was saying she would have preferred to have hung out with that douche, Ben, we met last month. Can you believe that?” He looked over at you, smirking as he took a swig of his beer. 
“Dick,” you mouthed over to him and let your head hang back onto the arm of the sofa. 
Your dad opened his eyes and looked over at you. “Is that right, sweet pea? You don’t wanna hang out with your favourite ‘old men’?! I’m truly offended.” He laughed, closing his eyes again, feigning hurt. 
“Joel is just bitter I have a better love life and sex life than him.” You shot back, immaturely sticking your tongue out at the other male. 
“Gross! Dad in the room!” Your dad grimaced, watching his hands in front of his face. “You’re my little girl, I don’t wanna hear about you having sex.”
“Hey — that’s not even true, I have sex… plenty of it…” Joel huffed, trying to sound convincing as he lied through his teeth. In truth, Joel never really had an interest in the women he had met, sure he took a few women home from bar to sleep with them but after he lost his wife and child, Sarah, he never really had it in him to give dating a proper go. 
“Sureeee you do,” you giggled, causing your dad to let out a loud laugh.
You all laid about a bit longer, listening to music and joking around before you sat up and stretched your back out, causing your tank top to rise, showing a small sliver of soft skin to show. There it was again, Joel’s hand tensed in place and it was almost as if his jaw clenched down. You were sure you were imagining these things, like usual so you pushed yourself off the sofa and smoothed your clothes out. 
“Right, pop’s I better get old man Miller home before I pass out here. I’m shattered.” You yawned, reinforcing your previous sentence. 
After saying your goodbyes you walked back to your parked car, the cool chill of the late-night air made your skin prick up with goosebumps and sent a small shiver down your spine. 
Joel and you walked in silence, the silence remained as you started your car and cranked the heating up.
“Dick move, bringing up Ben to my dad by the way, Miller. Real dick move.” You spoke, your voice seeming loud in the confined and silent space, just the low thrum of your car’s air vents trying to clear the windows and fill the air with warmth.
“Ha, sorry, Peach. Couldn’t resist it. Was right there for me to tease you with.” He laughed lowly, bringing his hands up to blow some warmth into them. There it was again, that nickname, every time it rolled off his tongue it sent warmth straight to your core. 
“My dad doesn’t need to know what I would rather be doing on a Friday night, or rather who I would rather be doing.” You huffed.
“I wouldn’t go around proclaiming that sorta thing, especially round your pops. I’m sure he wouldn’t wanna hear how corrupt his good girl truly is.” Joel hummed, his finger tapping on his thigh as you began driving. 
‘Good girl’, it rolled off his tongue so effortlessly yet it sent sparks straight to your core, as you drove you shift in your seat and pressed your thighs together. 
“I — I uh, I’m an adult, Joel. I’m a fully grown woman, incase you haven’t noticed. I have needs and wants.” You argued, trying to remain confident in your words. 
“Needs… and wants, huh?” He laughed, raising an eyebrow at you. “Is that why I see you practically drooling every time you see me? Now would you say that’s a need or a want?” Joel asked, his voice low and sultry.
Your mouth dried up instantly, voice getting stuck in your throat as you tried to protest. “I — I do not.” You protested, your voice coming out as a mere squeak.
“Oh peach, I see the way you press your thighs together. So needy for me? Hmm.” He hummed, his hand reaching over to touch your bare thigh. “I’ve seen the way you shift in your seat when I spread my legs in the arm chair or when you catch a short glimpse of my bulge. I’ve seen it all, no need to hide it.” His fingers were barely touching you, ghost-like touches on your skin. It was a risky move, he knew that and he knew you could quite easily pull the car over, kick him out and tell your dad what he had done. It could ruin his only true, pure friendship if your dad found out. But Joel was also sure he had calculated this properly, he had seen you for the past couple years and your minuscule reactions only seemed to ramp up the older you had been getting. 
Your breath hitched harshly in your throat as you tried to concentrate on the road ahead of you but your mind was swimming with Joel once again, his fingers lightly traced patterns on your inner thigh and all you could do was whimper pathetically under his touch. 
“J-joel,” you whined. “Please don’t tease me, I’ll crash the fuckin’ car if you play like that.”
“Oh little girl, I’ve barely placed a hand on you and you’re already whimpering for me? Quite cute really.” He said, his voice seeming deeper than usual; he splayed his hand across the skin of your inner thigh and gripped it tightly. 
You forced your eyes open as you continued to drive, you weren’t sure if you were doing the speed limits or what, all you could think about was the large hand that was so close, yet not nearly close enough to where you needed it the most. You could feel how wet you were already, you had been a mess all evening but now you could physically feel your arousal collecting in your lace panties. 
“You reckon your ol’ man knows how needy you are for me? Your dad’s best friend. Oh peach, what a mess.” He continued, he had moved closer to you now, reaching over the centre console of your car, his breath fanning out over your neck. 
“J-Joel, I’m serious. I’ll crash if you carry on like that. Not funny.” You whined, trying to press your legs together again but feeling resistance in the form of Joel’s hand. 
“Tsk tsk tsk,” Joel tutted. “What are you trying to do there, darlin’?” He laughed, letting his pinky drift closer to your clothed cunt just barely brushing the fabric. 
You whined again, just a small noise from the back of your throat and pulled the car over, from what you could tell you were a few streets away from Joel���s house; the suburban area was dimly lit with few lights and no people walking around, especially not this late anyway. You pushed your car into park, turned off the lights and engine and looked at the older male for a moment, your lips wet and cheeks flushed. 
“Joel…” you started. “Y-you don’t have to do this, I know I’m not your type and I’m sure you’re just trying to play a bit of a joke on me. We should get you home and forget about all of this…” Your breath was shaky, you hoped to every god out there that Joel would continue but you wanted him to know he didn’t have to humour your silly feelings. 
“You don’t think I want this?” Joel asked, his face close to yours, hand still pressed teasingly to your thigh. “I’ve noticed recently, the way you react to me and tonight, w-when you were bent over. Took everything in me to not pull those little panties aside and bury myself deep in that little cunt right there in the middle of the street.” His voice sounded near animalistic as he finished that sentence and your cheeks burned a deep, cherry red as he finished speaking. 
“I didn’t mean to do that, didn’t really think.” You mumbled, looking past him to stare out the window. 
“Shh,” Joel hummed, he leant forward and placed a kiss to your lips with his hand still stroking soft patterns into your inner thigh. 
You sighed contentedly into the kiss, finally experiencing what you had craved for years, your hand snaked up to hold Joel’s face as you deepened the kiss; hungry to taste more of the man. Joel tasted like smoke faintly, salty from the foods you had eaten and there was the distinct taste of hops from the beer he had drank. Your fingers intertwined into his greying hair and you gave it a testing tug; Joel groaned and allowed his tongue to swipe across your bottom lip. Eagerly, you opened your mouth and urged the kiss to be deepened, taking as much of him in as you could in that moment. 
Joel saw this as his opportunity to advance his hand, he slipped his fingers under the hem of your skirt and let them stroke across the damp fabric of your panties. You whimpered into the kiss, your hips bucked forward searching for further contact. He couldn’t help but smile at how undone you were already. Joel teased his fingers across the waistband of the lace fabric of your panties, teasingly slow, just as you were about to pull away from the kiss and protest he allowed two fingers to slip into your wet folds and agonisingly slowly circle your swollen clit. 
“Fuck,” he growled lowly. “So fuckin’ wet for me already, darlin’?”
You nodded, gripping at Joel’s forearm as he started to rhythmically circle and play with your clit. He was right, you were near sopping as he slipped through your folds. 
“Wanted this for s-so long,” you whimpered. You couldn’t quite believe this was real, you were almost convinced you would wake up any moment, sprawled out on your bed with your fingers deep inside of yourself and not actually in your car, with Joel Miller’s fingers close to making you cum already. 
“Yeah?” Joel asked, his fingers speeding up. “Wanted to feel my fingers on your wet pussy, making you feel good? Huh? How does it feel to have my fingers finally in you?” Joel spoke, his voice a low huff as his fingers worked quickly. 
“So. Good.” You moaned, the noise low and breathy. “Feels so good. I’m going to cum. Please.”  
Joel groaned, he still couldn’t believe this was happening to him. Since you started maturing over the past couple of years he had thought so many times about how much he would love to corrupt you; to have his fingers, mouth and cock making you fall apart at the seams. Just anything to make you feel good. 
“That’s it, atta girl. Cum for me, good girl.” Joel whispered, his lips ghosting over your ear as he sunk a digit into you abruptly and let his palm bump up against your clit.
That was it, the white hot, searing heat in your stomach erupted and your eyes screwed themself shut so tight you saw white patterns dancing behind your eyelids. Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip so hard the familiar metallic tang flooded your mouth, anything to stop you from alerting the neighbourhood with your screams. If that You that wasn’t just the best orgasm of your life, you would have been slightly embarrassed at quickly he had made you cum. 
Joel barely moved his finger in you, just circled it slightly but his palm nudged your clit as he worked your through your orgasm and it made you whimper loudly, your body flinching with over sensitivity. He took the hint and removed his hand from your wrecked panties and brought it up to his mouth, sucking his digits to clean them from your juices. 
“Taste so sweet, just like a peach.” He groaned, his fingers popping from his mouth, the noise startling you from your orgasmic comedown. There it was again, your nickname but now it just sounded sinful and you knew going forward, you wouldn’t be able to hear it without getting wet and embarrassed. 
When you finally regained some composure, you looked at Joel; your lips were swollen and red and your cheeks had a light flush settled on them. He smiled, thinking you were truly the most perfect sight he had ever seen. Your hand reached over to his lap, you had a hunger and needed to curb the insatiable need for his cock. Your small hand palmed him through his jeans, he was rock hard and fuck, he was big. You swallowed, almost nervously at the thought of his large cock stretching your tight hole out. Of course you had slept with people, you weren’t a virgin but your previous boyfriend was nowhere near that big and he definitely couldn’t make you come that hard, even on his best days. You gently squeezed at his length, stroking him through the rough fabric. 
“Not here, darlin’. How about we go back to mine so I can properly appreciate you?” He asked, and just as you opened your mouth to protest saying you wanted him right there and now he spoke once more. “I’ll drive, dunno if you can drive properly after that, little girl. I saw how hard you came on my fingers, now imagine how hard you could cum on my cock.”
Your whole body shuddered involuntarily, never in all your years of knowing Joel had you heard such filthy things from his mouth; he had always been the perfect Southern gentleman. You were soon pulled out of your thoughts by Joel opening your car door. 
“Shuffle over.” He commanded. 
You nodded dumbly and did as you were told. Joel swiftly started the car and continued the drive back to his, it barely took ten minutes but every minute felt like torture; your mouth watered at the thought of Joel filling your holes, using you how he pleased, your core ached with the need to be full of Joel again. 
Once the car was parked, Joel hopped out and was once again opening your door for you, you exited the car and grimaced at the cool air hitting your skin. You felt Joel’s hand on the small of your back, guiding you into his home, a place you had been hundred’s of times before but this time you felt nervous. 
He opened his front door for you and you walked in, just as you were about to turn and speak to the male he was holding your hips in his large hands and pressing your smaller frame against the wall. His lips were on yours and starting a bruising kiss, once again your hands found their way into his hair and you moaned softly. You wanted to be stuck like this forever, with his soft lips on yours and his rough facial hair scratching your skin slightly reminding you exactly who was kissing you. 
“Please don’t tease, I just want you so badly Joel. I have for years, b-been thinking about your cock filling me up for years.” You whined, sounding like a petulant child. 
“And I’ll be fillin’ you up real soon, sweet girl. But how about I make you feel good again, yeah? You think you can be good for me and cum again, I wanna truly taste how sweet you are, sugar.” He growled, his lips trailing rough kisses down your neck. God how he wished he could mark you up, head to toe, just so people would know you were all his.
Your knees buckled, and your body fell against Joel’s slightly, causing him to laugh breathily; no woman had ever reacted like that to him before, let alone just his words but then again, no woman was like you. He took you by the hand and led you up to his room, you couldn’t help but take in your surroundings, you had been in Joel’s room a couple times before but you had never noticed just how much it smelt like him. 
“How about we get you nice and comfortable, let’s get those clothes off you. Can’t wait to see your body.” He started by pushing your plaid shirt off your shoulders, throwing it over to the side; the heavy fabric landed with a dull thud onto his wooden floor and with that he swiftly removed your tank top. Somewhere along the way you had both kicked your shoes off but your brain was too murky to fully register it. 
Joel’s rough hands slid up your sides, he was drinking in every inch of your curves and soft skin; in the wake of his hands your skin was freckled with goosebumps. 
“So beautiful,” he breathed, a dim light casting beautiful shadows over his face. You felt embarrassed as his eyes fully drank in your form. “May I?” He asked, voice soft and smooth like honey, his hands were at the clasp of your bra and you simply nodded. It seemed like a trivial thing to ask permission for considering less than thirty minutes ago you were cumming around his fingers. 
He removed your bra, your perky breasts bounced ever so as the supportive fabric was gone. Your nipples hardened as the cool air hit them, pulling the sensitive skin tight. Joel could have devoured you whole, right there and then. His large, calloused hands came up to hold your breasts, his thumbs swiping over your nipples almost in a testing fashion. He did it again when it elicited a moan from your throat, he pinched the sensitive buds and your back arched towards him. 
“Joel, I can’t take it. Please.” You whined, his touches were entirely too much yet not enough all at once. It was your own form of perfect torture. 
The older male was loving this, watching your eager reactions as he toyed with your body, his cock was hard and leaking in his jeans and he couldn’t wait to be inside of you. 
“Be patient, darlin’. We have all night.” He smirked, slowly sinking to his knees in front of you. 
His rough hands begrudgingly left the peaks of your breasts and worked their way down to the zip of your tennis skirt, he unzipped the fabric causing it to fall to the floor. You took the cue and kicked it to side, out of the way. Joel’s fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties once more and slid them down your legs, you rested onto his shoulder and stepped out of them, just before you could kick them to the side, he was bunching them up and shoving them into his back pocket. 
This man — he would be the death of you, you just knew it. 
You were about to make a comment and protest but Joel was stood once again and gently pushing you back onto the bed behind you; you fell onto the plush mattress with ease, your thighs falling open without being asked to do so. You felt exposed, vulnerable but above all else, you felt needy. 
“Good girl, without even being told to lie like that. Such a beautiful girl.” He remarked, pulling his shirt over his head and slipping his jeans from his thick thighs. 
You rested up on your elbows to peer at Joel as he undressed and your throat tightened, all the air in the room seeming to have evaporated immediately. He was beautiful, all harsh lines to the outside world but in the glow of his bedroom now, he looked soft and warm. You were in deep, and you knew it meant deep trouble. 
He palmed himself through his boxers just to stave off some of the throbbing and your eyes followed eagerly, the thick outline of his cock making your walls clench around nothing. Wordlessly Joel knelt at the end of the bed, latched his hands onto your thighs and pulled you closer so you could feel his hot breath fanning over your sopping folds. Your hips bucked into thin air, nothing there to help you and he laughed, it was quiet and breathy but he definitely laughed — fucker.
Joel trailed two fingers through your folds, collecting your arousal on them once again and without warning he plunged them into you roughly. You gasped, your back arched off the bed and your fists balled into the sheets either side of yourself. His fingers were so thick, so much thicker than any man you had been with before; you weren’t sure whether that was down to the age difference or just Joel’s build. He slowly pumped his fingers in and out rhythmically, building speed and curling them so they brushed that perfect, sensitive spot inside of you. 
Your mouth was agape as you laid there, completely at his will, writhing under his relentless touch. Moan after moan, after moan spilled from your parted lips and just as you felt the tension tighten in your stomach Joel lapped his tongue of your clit. Your back arched and the filthiest moan escaped your mouth, you weren’t even sure how that noise had come from you but it had and it had Joel smirking as his tongue swiped through your folds again just to circle around your clit once more. 
Your hand laced its way into Joel’s hair, your fingers gripping the strands with a deathly vice and he groaned into your pussy causing vibrations to ripple through you. You weren’t sure how you were still holding on but your stomach was twisting, tightening and bubbling as your orgasm approached once again. 
“Mmm, good girl.” He praised as your walls clenched around his fingers as he continued to pump them into your wet heat. The room was filled with obscenely filthy noises; your moans echoed throughout the empty space as Joel slurped up your juices. 
“Joel —“ you sobbed, your back arching impossibly high off the mattress below you. “C-can I cum? Please. Need it.” You asked pathetically.
Why were you asking permission?
Never before had you felt so submissive for a partner in bed, never once had you asked permission to cum, no, normally you would be chasing your high, just trying to grasp at a fraction of how good Joel was making you feel. 
“That’s it baby, such a good girl for asking permission. Wanna make you feel as good as I can, peach.” He groaned in between pleasuring you. “Cum all over my face, wanna taste as much as I can.”
That was it, the coil in your stomach snapped abruptly and you were gushing onto Joel’s fingers, a pleasured scream tumbling from your lips. Never, not once had you squirted before, yet here you were, soaking the sheets beneath you and in turn, Joel’s beard and your own thighs. You would have felt ashamed if you didn’t feel such pure euphoria in the moment. Your back was twisted and contorted off the sheets as Joel worked you through it, making you squirt further.
He could have cum in his boxers, like a teenager as the first drops of your orgasm hit his face. He lapped up as much of you as he could, like a man who had been starved for years. And he had, he had been starved from allowing himself to have this moment with you and now he had you, he wanted to savour and devour you as much as you would allow him to. 
“Joel,” you whimpered, your thighs trapping his head. “C-can’t do it anymore!” You sounded wrecked, your throat felt raw from how loudly you had been moaning. 
Joel laughed, pushed your thighs apart and removed his fingers from you. You winced and your walls clenched around air, feeling so empty once again. 
“Please, p-please can I have you now?” You asked, positioning yourself on your knees in front of Joel. You reached your hand to feel his hard cock through his boxers once again and this time, he didn’t stop you. 
You abruptly pulled the checkered fabric from his waist and his boxers pooled at his feet; freeing his cock finally, it sprang up against his stomach and you all but moaned. 
“You’re so…” you whispered, looking up at Joel through your lashes as your small hand wrapped around his thick length. The tip was dark, a bead of pre-cum glistened at the slit and all you wanted was to taste it, to taste Joel’s musk. “You’re so big, fuck.” You cursed, your tongue sticking out to kitten lick at his tip. 
You wanted to sink your mouth down his length to fully take him in so your nose could bury into Joel’s thatch of dark hair but you resisted and gave him another lick, tongue flicking into his slit.
Joel groaned, a low and gruff noise from the back of his throat. “Fuck, darlin’, I gotta be in you. None of this.” He spoke lowly, his thumb coming down to swipe along your bottom lip and you quickly sucked it into his mouth. 
“Please, daddy.” You whispered, the honorific slipping from your throat before you could process it. A look of horror washed over your features and you knelt up higher to look Joel in the eyes. “I — I, — sorry. I didn’t mean —“
Your fumbling words were cut off when Joel placed his big hand around your throat and brought you in for a kiss. You were trouble, you were sinful and he was damned. He had been called daddy a few times by younger women, they thought it was sexy; the way they would flutter their lashes at him at the bar, saunter over to him and whisper ‘hey daddy.’ Normally it made his skin crawl and caused his body to cringe but the way it almost innocently slipped from your lips, it was like a curse from the devil himself and it made Joel’s cock jump, nudging your stomach. 
He squeezed his hand around your throat and you smiled? Trouble. Nothing but pure trouble. 
“Not such a good girl, after all, huh? Been acting all innocent all these years.” He whispered, his thumbs squeezing near your pulse point, hard enough to make your head feel lighter and floaty but soft enough not to hurt you deliberately. “God, what would your old man say about this? See his little girl begging to cum, see you squirting on his best friend’s face. Smiling as I wrap a hand round your throat. Your trouble, darlin’. Nothin’ but damn trouble.” He whispered, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip before peppering small nips to the flesh of your neck. 
Your legs trembled as they held you up, it was wrong but his words went straight to your core and soaked you further, you didn’t think your arousal could get higher but here you were. He was right though; your dad would be horrified, would be downright mortified to know what his daughter was truly like and at the hands of his best friend? That would destroy your lives. All three of you. You pushed that bitter thought away as your head lulled back and you allowed Joel to grope at your chest, hungry to feel your body once more. 
“Say it again,” he growled into your ear as he pushed your body back down onto the bed. “Call me it again as I fuck you real good. How ‘bout I show you what it’s like to have a real man fuck you, not some silly boy.” He said, his voice gruff whilst he stroked the tip of his cock through your folds. 
“Daddy,” you whimpered, parting your legs further to allow Joel more room to enter you. “Daddy please fuck me.” You begged, sounding weak. 
“Oh, of course, baby girl.” He cooed, pushing his cock into you roughly until he was bottomed out. “Fuck,” he cursed. 
“S-so big, daddy.” You whimpered, your hands grasping at Joel’s biceps, just trying to hold onto something as you adjusted to the slight burn of him stretching you out. “Mmm, please move.” You moaned. 
“Atta girl, taking daddy’s cock so good already.” Joel groaned and he swore that he saw heaven in that moment; your tight body below him, contorting to how he needed. He had already built up a punishing pace, hips drawing back to slam forward roughly. The room was filled with echoes of your skin slapping together, his deep pants and your wanton moans and weak, pleading whimpers. 
“I’ve wanted this for s’long,” you sobbed, your eyes falling shut as the tension built further in your stomach once more. You knew from this point forward you would be wrecked for any other man, no one would be able to make you feel this good. Not even close. “T-touched myself so many times thinking about you fucking me.” You admitted, the words falling without thought. “Want you to cum in me, wanna be full of just you, Joel.” You moaned. 
Joel was a goner, he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep this up for much longer, you were too tight, too wet and just too good for him to have any real stamina. Your admission didn’t help matters, either. The thought of you spread out on your own sheets, touching yourself to him?!
He gripped one of your hips tightly, hard enough to leave bruises on your delicate skin as he fucked into you harder with deep groans. “Can’t be saying that to me, peach. Gonna cum too quickly.” He hissed, his free hand snaking between you to trace circles around your clit. 
“I c-can’t do it again,” you stuttered, your body burning from the inside and out. “Too much.” You breathed, your sharp nails clawing at any bare skin you could find. Just anything to anchor you down as Joel pulled another orgasm from you. 
“I think you can. Hmm?” Joel spoke. “What you think? Wanna be a real good girl for daddy and give me one more?” His thumb sped up but his hips slowed to a sensual roll, his cock head bumping the electrified bundle of nerves deep in your walls. You clenched around him tightly and he moaned, louder than before. “That’s it, baby. That’s it. One more, come on now. Come on.” He groaned, working your clit faster. 
You whined, the noise stuck in your throat as your back arched once more and you clenched around Joel before gushing around him with a moan of his name. “Joel, Joel, Joel, Joel, J—.” Your eyes had rolled back, any further and they would have disappeared into the back of your skull.
“Such a good girl, fuck. So tight. That’s it, squirt on my cock.” He groaned, removing his hand from your clit to hold down both your hips as he fucked into you with more fervour. He wasn’t going to last long, but he also knew you couldn’t take much more. You were cock drunk and spent. “Gonna fill you up so. fuckin’. good.” He huffed, accentuating each word with a thrust. 
“Daddy,” you cried, tears pricking the corners of your eyes as your body went into overdrive. 
That was it, that’s all it took. Joel looked down at you, your were a mess and all from him, tears fell onto your cheeks as he finished inside of you with a groan of your name. “Shhh, that’s it sweet girl. Such a good girl.” He cooed, his hand cupping your cheek as he emptied himself into you. 
You moaned, feeling the hot liquid of his cum fill you up, your walls clenched weakly, just trying to milk him of every drop and you turned to kiss his hand. The room smelt of sex, the air was thick and hot and sleep called to you like a sweet song. 
Joel pulled out of you with a hiss and you whimpered, your body felt like there were a hundred tiny pin pricks on your skin. You were overstimulated and completely spent but ultimately, you were so happy. 
“Hmmm, m’sleepy.” You hummed contentedly.
“I know, sweet girl but can’t sleep here. The sheets are a mess. How about you have a rest in the spare room and I’ll go sleep on the couch?” He asked softly, brushing your sweat-dampened hair from your face. 
“Sorry about the sheets,” You giggled, eyes heavy-lidded and barely open. “Although, was kinda your fault. You’re a dirty old man, too good at that.” You teased, still giggling. 
“Yeah, yeah. I’m going to hell.” He huffed, his voice all too serious. 
Joel scooped your naked body off his bed with a gruff noise and before you knew it, you were in another bed with the duvet wrapped around you. Joel had cleaned you up with a damp towel, dressed you in one of his shirts and wrapped you up into the sheets. 
“Stay with me,” you whispered as Joel turned to walk out, assuming you had already passed out for the night. “P-please stay with me.” You cried, tears filling your eyes. 
He smiled and obliged with no arguments. The mattress dipped beside you and he wrapped his large arms around your waist, pulling you close.
“Of course I’ll stay, peach.” He whispered and pressed a kiss to your temple.
You hummed sleepily, your eyes already closed and you felt peaceful. It was the most peaceful you had felt in a long time. Joel was there, you finally felt content and safe in his arms. You knew trouble was brewing on the horizon but right there, in that moment, you couldn’t find it in you to actually care.
Everything felt like it was too much, of course your fantasy came true but what did this mean for your futures? You only assumed it would be messy and all too hard on you both. 
You drifted off to sleep peacefully that night, the most peaceful you had been in far too long. Your senses screamed Joel and you felt safe. You knew trouble was brewing on the horizon but for now, you were content and happy.
——————————
——————————
7K notes · View notes
sonamytrash · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media
Midnight
Underground Virgin!Levi x Virgin!Femreader
MDNI
Warnings: y/n used, Childhood friends to lovers, fluff, smut, puberty mentioned, masturbation mentioned, fingering, sex, mentions of abuse, mentions of rape, mentions of prostitution, characters ages aren't mentioned, but it's suggested they're both in their late teens, of age when writing but could be interpreted as underage? Virgin levi, virgin reader.
Note: Kind of wanted to write something about Levi losing his virginity and give him the blessing of something in his life that wasn't all bad. Reader and Levi have grown up together. Feelings have blossomed, and desires have been ignited over the years. The underground is a tough place to live with sex and violence everywhere. There's no smut in the first chapter, but it is heavily suggestive. Let me know what you think. Enjoy!
-----------------
In a world where the sun never shines, where the only light comes from flickering Street lights, candles, and the occasional spark from a fire, three souls found solace together in front of a fire. The underground city was a maze of dimly lit tunnels, cramped living quarters, and a constant struggle for survival. You had grown up together, survived together, and lived together in this harsh, unforgiving environment.
Your landlord was a cruel and greedy man, having come to you the with news that he wanted his rent earlier than usual, probably because he owed someone else the money or had pissed his own money up the wall. You couldn't afford to be out on the streets again. It wasn't hard to find a crook to rent a small apartment to three teenagers. But his terms were unreasonable.
Desperation and stress hung heavy in the air. You were usually the type to try and remain cheery, strong, and resilient, but these sorts of situations made you anxious. Finding money down here was hard enough, but being given less time to find it was so much more stressful. "I-I don't know what we're going to do," you stammered. "There has to be some way to make the money quickly." Furlan said thoughtfully as he tried to reassure you, but even his words sounded hollow. It really wasn't much time to get the money together.
You were always aware of the easiest way for a girl to make money down here. Selling your body to some piece of shit man to use for pleasure. It was quick and easy cash that much was true. If you were lucky enough to get paid, that is. The attempt to make any money that way came with many risks. Most women down here lived in fear of getting raped, abused, and even killed before the added risk of being a working girl. Having grown up with Levi and Furlan, they had kept you safe. Currently, you worked a part-time job at the morgue, which didn't pay well but allowed you to learn and study to some extent. But in recent years, since hitting puberty and developing into a young woman, the pressure had been more intense, men often offering plenty of money for the opportunity to have their way with you. Although this sort of interaction would result in being beaten to a pulp by Levi, he would die before he allowed you to have to resort to sex work. And you were grateful for that. The thought of having to resort to prostitution, a common but desperate measure, filled you with dread.
Levi, said nothing. He just stared at the floor, his jaw tightening with anger. You glanced at him, concerned. "Levi, if we need the money I can-" You asked softly, stopping when you saw him look up at you, his eyes burning with a fierce protectiveness. "I'm not going to let you do that," he said, his voice steady and unyielding.
You frowned. "It will guarantee us the money."
"Y/N" He said sternly. "I won't let you go out there and sell yourself for us to survive. I'll find another way. I promise." You looked into his eyes, searching for any hint of uncertainty, but found none. There was only determination.
You nod in response, feeling reassured for now by his words. "I've got to go out. I'll be back around midnight, okay?" He states. Again, this wasn't uncommon. You worried about him and where he was going but even if you asked he wouldn't have told you. Criminal and immoral are the exact words that he himself would've used to describe his work, he was probably going to go and find some quick and easy job, guaranteed to pay but always carried so many risks. Furlan smiles gently at you as he follows Levi out of the door.
Having had a bath and tidied up a little. You toss and turn in bed for hours, lost in your own thoughts. You knew Levi would keep you safe to an extent, but nothing was guaranteed down here. Even if you didn't end up in a brothel, there was nothing stopping anyone from breaking into the apartment you shared now while the boys were gone, you could he kidnapped, raped and murdered any night, or day for that matter. You shudder at the thought. You wanted as much of your life to be in your own hands and control as possible. It wasn't like you wanted to stay a virgin forever, while still being young, you were old by the standards of the underground, which made you laugh. You wanted your first time to be something you choose, not something taken from you. You had desires and thoughts late at night like this when you were alone. Always of your stoic companion. You weren't sure when your feelings towards him became romantic, but it frightened you. He was difficult to read, but you were sure that there could be something there. And if there wasn't? Well, you were sure you could convince yourself that you would be satisfied to just be by his side in whatever capacity the universe will allow. Maybe you would be fortunate enough to be born as a princess in the next life, and he would be your Prince charming. You roll your eyes and laugh at the thought. A girl could dream, and your fantasy of prince's, pretty dresses and castles, however impossible it was did help you to fall asleep for a few hours before you were abruptly awoken by the sound of Levi and Furlan returning. You could recognise the sound of Furlans footsteps retiring to his small room at the end of the corridor. It sounded like Levi was still in the living room. You sit up in bed and light a candle.
Levi walks over to your door, having noticed the light emitting from beneath. A heavy sigh escapes him, his eyes carrying a look of exhaustion. As he knocks on your door just once, his voice is soft.
"Can I come in?"
You respond with a sleepy yes, and Levi pauses for a moment before he comes into the room. His eyes shift to your bed, and he realizes that you're only wearing a tank top and underwear. He doesn't let his eyes roam over you for more than a second, trying to focus on something else in the room before speaking up, sounding worried:
"Are you alright? Why aren't you sleeping?"
You smile. "I was, and I wasn't, I fell asleep not long ago, but I heard you come home. Is everything okay?" You ask him concerned.
Levi nods as he sits down on the edge of your bed.
"Yeah, everything is fine. Sorry if I woke you up. You should get back to sleep." He smiles softly, something only you and you alone are ever lucky enough to see. You gently tug his arm. "Stay, just for a little longer." A blush creeping across your cheeks. This was a bold move for you. Maybe you were still slightly delirious from having just woken up.
Levi looks down at your hand as it lays on his arm. A slight blush creeps up on his cheeks as he looks up at you again. Your messy hair, dreary eyes, and smile are just too cute. He doesn't know what he would do without you. He hates that he can't find a way to get you all out of this cesspit. You're like the moon that continues to shine on the darkest night. He's already resided himself to do anything to keep you safe and by his side. He feels guilty that this sight of you is making his cock twitch. The years have been kind to you and you're such a beautiful young woman now, each and every night his hand is tightly gripped around his cock at the thought of you. Seeing you like this, the covers barely covering your panties and your nipples visible through your tank top is all the more fuel for his desires. But he knows how it is for girls down here, he saw what life was like for his mother, he sees it daily in the streets. He would never dream of treating you with anything but the respect you deserve. Not only that, but the thought of jeopardising the relationship that you have now should he tell you how he feels, loosing you would really plummet his life into eternal darkness.
He reaches out and gently tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. "I guess I can stay for a little bit." He says softly. "Since you're such a brat if you don't get your own way." He teases.
You pout playfully at him, he chuckles as he shifts a bit closer to you, now sitting next to you with his arm around your shoulder, you nestle into his chest. A slight blush appears on his cheeks, which he immediately hides by turning his face away from you. "You're not still worrying about the money, are you? Is that why you're acting so needy?." He asks quietly
You shake your head. "Not anymore, I know it won't come to that." He nods, relieved that it isn't worrying you any longer. He's pulled from his thoughts when you speak up again. "I'm grateful. I know what I want for myself. And it's thanks to you that I'm able to make my own choices." You lift your head to meet his gaze, your face painted with a furious blush. "I'm ready to make my own choices."
Levi chuckles. "Well, you're spoilt for choice if that's the case." He says, trying to ignore the pang of jealously he can feel in the pit of his stomach.
You shake your head  "That's not what I mean, Vi." You nervously bring your palm to his cheek. "I want to be with someone I trust, someone I love."
Levi stares at you. Blushing slightly at your words. You have grown into a young woman who's a lot braver than he gives you credit for. A small smile forms on his face, but he's still hesitant to say all the things he wants to.
Levi tries to keep his usual cool exterior "A-Are...Are you saying what I think you're saying right now?"
You nod nervously. Averting your gaze, you have said enough for someone as intuitive as Levi to piece together. The seconds seem to last forever, but he finally gives you his response with a soft and gentle tone:
"I... I want that, too."
575 notes · View notes
yanderedespair · 3 months
Text
YANDERE!CLASS PRESIDENT X GN!READER!
❆・:*:。❆・:*:・❆ ❆・:*:。❆・:*:・❆ ❆・:*:。❆・:*:・❆
Tumblr media
❆・:*:。❆・:*:・❆ ❆・:*:。❆・:*:・❆ ❆・:*:。❆・:*:・❆
Howdy Dear readers~ I know I've been away for a while but I didn't have the motivation or enthusiasm to do anything (except daydreaming).
But since Christmas is here..WAS HERE ANYWAY, I thought I'd share some of the thoughts I've been having lately!
(IM SORRY THAT IT'S SO LATE- i was too focused on pranking kids that im Santa than writing anything 😭)
IF SOMETHING IS WRONG WITH MY ENGLISH, THEN I'M SORRY IT'S PRETTY LATE FOR ME- (i've been reading this over and over all day-)
❆・:*:。❆・:*:・❆❆・:*:。❆・:*:・❆❆・:*:。❆・:*:・❆
TW: THIS ONE CONTAINS MENTION OF VIOLENCE,STALKING,YANDERE THOUGHTS ECT.
I do not support this behavior in any way, I only write it as pure entertainment.If you know someone who exhibits such behavior or YOU have such behavior yourself, please make an appointment with a specialist! It's not healthy.
♡ MERRY CHRISTMAS ‪♡
❆・:*:。❆・:*:・❆ ❆・:*:。❆・:*:・❆ ❆・:*:。❆
Yan!Class President - Who is the most perfect student in your school, his charisma and empathy is so good that even bullies respect him. sometimes you wonder if he ever made a mistake? Probably not-
Yan!Class President - Who is especially nice to you, you don't know why but for some time now he started talking to you, buying you sweets and accessories, what is very cute is that he gifted you a phone keychain with your favorite animal! (You didn't even tell him what your favorite was! weird, isn't it?)
Yan!Class President - Who secretly whisper a word or two about you to your teachers so they can give you better grades, if the best student says you deserve it, why wouldn't you get it? a true gentleman indeed! Besides, his favorite person MUST have a bright future, no?
Yan!Class President - Who often walks you home, lends you homework or even pays for you at the store when you forget your wallet (again. Huh, you thought you had it on you when you came here..) Could he be considered a simp? Yeah.
Yan!Class President - Who started to deepen your "friendship" when he invited you more and more often (read: forced you not to see your friends anymore) to his group! all the rich and talented people.. sometimes you feel like an idiot while talking to them. But when you complain about it, the whole group aggressively denies it. I guess they like you a lot.. huh?
Yan!Class President - Who one day, invited you to the Christmas Eve party, as your parents preferred to spend their holidays with their extended family and left you to "protect the house" (MOM! WHY IS OUR DOG GOING WITH YOU? HE SHOULD PROTECT THIS HOUSE NOT ME-) So you agreed! :)
Yan!Class President - Who has completely different views about you. He didn't thought that his crush would REALLY show up at his house. Huh, He hadn't anticipated this part of the plan yet..
Yan!Class President - Who looks at you adoringly from the other end of the room. it is simply impossible that such a beautiful and amazing person is sitting in his living room!! your eyes that he could look into for hours, your hair that he would love to touch or your hands holding a cup of tea.. he would love to be in the place of that cup-
Yan!Class President - Who almost splashed his friend's shirt because he was staring at you while you were laughing with some random person. wow. your laughter is the best music for his ears! you are so cute! Oh! Where's his camera?! This is a worthy memory for his secret album-
Yan!Class President - Who couldn't wait to hand out the gifts.. he's been waiting for this all year! He "specially" was looking for the perfect inspiration for your gift!
..good thing you weren't at home then- I MEAN- that diary just happend to fell out of your backpack when you were coming home.. huh? Why did he took the same route even though he lives in a different neighborhood? He was on a walk haha- (yeah totally! but you could maybe? buy a bigger wardrobe next time? Thanks, sigh-)
Yan!Class President - Who, finally walked up to you and pushed a small gift, the size of a pebble, into your hands. Okay? You wonder what it is? Huh? AWW! HE GAVE YOU A SILVER RING WITH SNAKES WRAPPED AROUND IT?! It's so cool~
Yan!Class President - Who, after a successful dinner, invited you to the balcony! how peaceful..just you and him, and the silence around you, and pretty stars.. Wait. why is your new friend holding mistletoe over your head?
Yan!Class President - Who, ALMOST kissed you in the most romantic way. But was interrupted by a one of his friends who drunkenly announced they will be watching a movie..
THANKS KYLE! SERIOUSLY! UGH...
..he could have drowned him that last summer when he had the chance..
Yan!Class President - Who sits grumpy throughout the entire movie. Now he will have to wait another year! How stupid is that?! and what do you think of him now? you sit there, as if nothing happened? just like that watching a movie and eating popcorn.. what if you don't like him anymore?
Yan!Class President - Who, wanted to be alone for a while but saw you sitting in the kitchen, When he asked what happened, you replied that all this social interactions had exhausted you.. aww~
Yan!Class President - Who politely asks if he can stay with you, how sweet! for the next hour you sit in a empty, dark kitchen, eating gingerbread & talking about various things with your classmate! Cool!
Yan!Class President - Who, to cheer you up, suggested to go for a walk! you reluctantly agreed, weirdly enogh your trip quickly ended in a snowball fight. you both forgot what it was about for a moment! It was nice to have fun without stress..
You - Aww! What a nice and funny guy he is, his girlfriend must be so happy to have him!
Him - Aaaaaa!! your laugh is so cute!! it suits you, you know? ah~ I love it when you have a great time, I already feel better and im just looking at you~
Yan!Class President - Who offered an escort home and you happily agree, joking and asking each other stupid questions. ah, how sweet~ he even dared to hold your hand. (Read: He just slipped on ice and you caught him at the last moment 🙄🫴)
Yan!Class President - Who gave up when you arrived at your house. 'well..there are other days of the year too...' was his last thought.. but! he is surprised when you stop him. Surprised, he turns around getting a quick kiss on the cheek in the process..okay what-
"Thanks for the gift..I hope you liked mine tho. Well bye!" You thanked him closing your front door. Leaving him outside..
He stands there frozen in the middle of your lawn, holding his cheek. His brain probably froze at that moment.
Maybe he won't have to kidnap you! maybe he still has a chance?! and with that thought, he happily joined his friends who excitedly asked him how it went.
Daydreaming in his thoughts about you and your beautiful lips- he returned home. almost tripping over his backpack which was abandoned in the middle of the living room.
the rest of the rooms were not in good condition either...
(he will have to clean everything before his parents come back from vacation..)
After eating a decent meal, he locked himself in his room, and the first thing he did was light the candles on your pretty altar..
"Huh! Did you thought it would be a sweet "just imagine"?? haha of course not! ~It's not my style!" ~ Despair 3:00am. (Im crazy and there's rats around help-)
Yan!Class President - Who has a whole room decorated with your photos, each one signed with a date and a dedication especially for you! some people would think he became crazy, but some people just don't understand true love..
Yan!Class President - Who lives your life at this point! stalking is one thing. having a spare key to your house is the second. Not to mention that he remembers your schedule and hobbies by heart! sometimes he dreams that he could live next to you as neighbours ah, he would gladly fall into a coma just to not wake up from those beautiful thoughts..
Yan!Class President - Who has the previously mentioned altar! exclusively for you~ each box is assigned! For example. at the top we have a lock of your hair! on the left we have the bracelet he borrowed stole from your drawer! Your scent still lingers on it~
Yan!Class President - Who always keeps an eye on you, at school, outside, in your room but we don't talk about it- forgive him but he can't help himself! Everything you do is just worthy of his attention alone~
Yan!Class President - Who loves taking hidden photos of you! you are so photogenic. you could be a model, why hasn't anyone thought of this yet!? He would like to get your autograph someday! he could finally (and legally) adore you..!
Yan!Class President - Who is so in love with you that he sees every person as a threat. huh? is someone talking to you? Does they know you're together?! I hope not, because if so, every finger that touched you will be cut off-
Yan!Class President - Who, tries to bump into you anywhere, you go to the library often? he likes to go there too! You're going to the cinema to see a horror movie again? Halloween is his favorite holiday! Hey, let's go together this year!
Do you understand what's going on? That's good! because he won't stop-
Yan!Class President - Who will never forget the day when he gave you your gift, every time you talk, his eyes always glide towards your fingers, that ring fit you perfectly!
(good thing you still didn't notice that barely visible sign on the side that reads "Eric's Property")
Yan!Class President - Who will always stay with you silly! you don't have to worry about loneliness! Because as soon as you enter adult life. he will be waiting with a bouquet of roses and chocolate..and of course an engagement ring!
"Everything is already planned my little star~"
❆・:*:。❆・:*:・❆❆・:*:。❆・:*:・❆❆・:*:。❆・:*:・❆
Despair: Merry Christmas my dears! I hope you get the best gifts in the world! and if you are already enjoying them, I wish you a lot of health and money! 😎🫴 Ho! Ho! guys!
❆・:*:。❆・:*:・❆❆・:*:。❆・:*:・❆❆・:*:。❆・:*:・❆
544 notes · View notes
imonanotherlebel · 1 month
Text
Look where the night led us..
Tumblr media
⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺
Genre: Smut, romance, established relationship
Pairing: Mingyu x reader
Warnings: Minors DNI, Sexual content, swearing, making out, penetrative sex, vulgar language, degradation, SA, Irresponsible drinking, irresponsible driving(drive safe kids), unprotected sex(use condoms y'all, they were made for a reason!) DO NOT INTERACT IF YOU ARE A MINOR!!!
⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺
Oh shit, you kept swearing in your head. What did I get myself into....
***************
"What did I tell you about this skirt?", Mingyu half scolded into your ear as you tried your best to pull it down to cover up what it was supposed to cover in the first place.
You were at the club, with your boyfriend and your friends on a night out. And you had been so arrogant and decided to wear the tiniest skirt you could find, just to prove a fucking point. What? You may ask...
You had ordered a cute skirt and top online, and when you were about to place the order, Mingyu had warned you about how the skirt might be a tad too short. There were prettier skirts, but you had to ignore him and buy this one anyway. It wasn't until it arrived, and you tried it on, that reality hit you. Fuck. It really is a bit too short.
You decided to keep it shut and return it, hating to be proven wrong by your boyfriend. Until he himself remembered the skirt and top when you were complaining about not having anything new to wear for the night out.
"Why not, babe? That new skirt and top you ordered arrived last week, right?", he just had to mention right fucking now.
"Ummm.. Yeah... About that. I lost it. I think it's somewhere amongst my clothes but I just can't find it.", you lied.
"Oh, too bad.", Mingyu said as he pulled his t-shirt on, oblivious of your little lie. "Want me to look for it?", he asked, since he knew his way around the closet very well.
"I don't think we should waste our time, Gyu. We're running late.",you rushed him. He nodded. You almost thought you got away with it until.....
"Hey babe, look! I found it!", you heard him yell from the closet. You sprinted into the room and, there he was, holding exibit A in his hands. Well shit.
"Oh, thanks, baby.", you said. "But I think this is okay", you said, looking at your outfit.
"But you wore that last week when we went to the park, remember?"
There was no way you could get away from this. His memory is too good, and when it comes to outfits, he is pretty serious about it.
So you decided to take it from his hands and meet your doom. It's not like it's a big deal or anything. But the thought of being proven wrong by Mingyu and having him make jokes about it for the next two months or so might hurt your ego.
So you went ahead into your room and put it on. When you walked into the living room, Mingyu just knew something was fishy. I mean, even a person with low eyesight might be able to notice how you walked so uncomfortably. You looked like a newborn zebra.
"Give me a 360," he said, already knowing something's up. You did as he told.
"Too short, huh?", he asked, raising a brow.
"I mean a little. But it's the style. I wanted this to be like this. This is a trend, you know?", lies lies lies. You tried your best to lie.
"Oh yeah? What trend?", he asked, amused, yet buying none of your bs.
"The trend. You wouldn't know. It's a Pinterest trend.", you blabbered. "Come on, we're getting late", you added grabbing a coat and pulling Mingyu's arm. He did not get up.
"Come on, babe. Let's go now.", you said.
"Not until you wear something that actually covers your ass.", he said nonchalantly.
"Come on babe. It's not that short. It is the style. Let's just go", you pleaded.
"Or... You could just admit that I was right about it being too short when you were about to order it, change into something sensible and go.", he said, not dropping the attitude.
"Are you saying that you can't protect me?", you asked, giving him your attitude.
"What? No!", he screeched out. Yep. That did the trick.
"Well, it sounds like it", you continued... Yes! The win is mine!
"Come on baby, you know I don't mind what you wear as long as it is COMFORTABLE. I can protect you, infact the sexier you look, the more confident I feel for being able to bag a gem like you. But right now, you are just forcing yourself into that thing to prove a point.", he said seriously.
"Well, I am comfortable in this. I am telling you the truth", you replied arrogantly, frustrated that he knew you too well.
"If you say so then...."
"Then let's go. You're gonna be there with me.", you said, cutting him off mid sentence, grabbing his arm and tugging at it.
Mingyu let out a defeated sigh. You always had your ways with him. "Fine.", he sighed. "But if some motherfucker cat calls you, imma beat his ass." He added.
*Fast forward to a few hours later*
You were all tipsy now, a few drinks in. Your friends were already on the dance floor, taking over a part of it. Amelia, one of your friends, came up to you and pulled you along with her. As soon as you got up, you could feel the cold air hit your bottom half. Shit. Mingyu immediately pulled you back down. "You go ahead, Amelia. Y/n needs some water. She'll join you soon."
Amelia nodded tipsily and went ahead, leaving a very angry Gyu beside you. "I fucking told you y/n! It's too short, isn't it? You know it too, don't you?", he whispered angrily.
"It doesn't bother me that much", you shrugged off and got up to head towards your friends. But Mingyu was close behind.
You can't lie. You felt more than uncomfortable. Not just because it was too short, but also because of the cat calls and perverted stares you got from men. You knew the night was not going to end well, but you still were too arrogant to admit it to Gyu.
You felt his hands on you, pulling you to a side. "Here," he said, removing his jacket. "Tie this around your waist", he said as he himself started to tie it around your waist.
Not gonna lie. You felt grateful. It still didn't cover much. But it was much better than before. "It was fine. But, anything you say.", you mumbled, not admitting your gratefulness. You ran towards your friends and joined them on the dance floor.
It was fun, dancing with all your friends while Mingyu and his guy friends were in their seats. He wasn't drinking since he had to drive you guys home. He was just vaping with the dudes, keeping an eye on you.
One by one, your friends started to get more and more drunk. Resulting in a few of them ending up on the couch you guys had occupied. You were not that drunk, so you continued dancing with your friends. You were into it as the songs started to get hotter and hotter. The girls were wilding and grinding on everyone around you. And the girls were all over each other, pretending to be couples. That's just how you guys were, hence the fun and wild part. So you didn't mind much when you felt a pair of hand slide around your waist from behind.
However, it wasn't long before you felt like they were trying to move around too much. You looked around and it wasn't one of your friends, it wasn't Mingyu either. It was another fucking man! You tried to push him off you and get away, but it was difficult.
"I've been eyeing you since you entered this place, why did you have to wear this damn jacket and cover the best part, huh?", he said trying to slide his hands to your ass. It was disgusting. You looked to the side where Mingyu was while trying to push the dude away, but Mingyu and his friends were not to be seen. Your friends were too drunk to notice your problem.
"Gyu! Help me!", you screamed looking around you hoping to see your boyfriend somewhere. Oh no, they must have gone to the bathroom. Your eyes were starting to tear up when suddenly a huge sound came from behind you, the guy's grip on your body disappeared, and you saw the dude on the ground.
You quickly turned to the scene, and there was Mingyu. Before you could talk, Mingyu was on the man, punching him like a madman. Everything was happening so fast. Mingyu's friends rushed to his side and pulled him off the man before he killed him. You were frozen to the spot. Some other dudes pulled the man away from the scene before something worse happened.
Oh shit, you kept swearing in your head. What did I get myself into....
Your eyes finally met Mingyu's. His eyes were dark with fury, and he was breathing heavily. His friends were still holding him in place. Everyone knew Mingyu was a madman when he's angry. Anything goes when he's mad.
And you knew he would kill for you. The adrenaline was high, and you felt lightheaded. Before you knew, Gyu was grabbing your hand, pulling you along with him as he stormed outside.
He opened the door to your car, "In," he said. You obliged. He got into the drivers seat and banged the door shut. The engine roared to life, and before long, you were speeding through the city's streets.
The car was filled with silence and the air was thick with tension. You knew Mingyu was partially mad at you too.. It was kinda fair. I should have let my fucking ego down for one fucking day, shit.
"Gyu, baby...", you whispered, trying to get his attention. No response.
"I'm sorry. I should have listened.", you continued. You slowly let your hand touch his thigh, rubbing softly. He looked at you, his eyes still had the same darkness, but also something more. God! He is sexy!
There was this really bad habit of yours, or should we say Kink?
As nervous as you were when he gets mad, you also have this side where you get so turned on. You can't help it. He is so sexy and manly and dominant when he is mad. And so protective. It made you wet. And right now, you felt yourself getting wetter and wetter.
The anticipation, the possibility of him fucking your brains out made your breath heavier. And without you knowing, you were whimpering, and Mingyu noticed.
"What do you have to say?", he asked looking at you, knowing this side of you very well.
"I'm sorry.", you whimpered. Feeling so so needy.
"And?", he asked again, this time his voice was lower. You glanced at him and his eyes were hooded. You knew where this was heading.
"I want you so bad", you said, making pleading eyes at him.
"What?", he asked again sternly, making you squeeze your legs together.
"I-I want you, Gyu...."
"Ask the right way, needy whore", he said not even looking your way. He knew you were riled up, he was too... These were times when you LOVED to be degraded.
"Daddy please, fuck me. Pleaseeee.", you whined.
"Spread those pretty legs for me, and rub that needy pussy baby", he ordered.
You slowly leaned back on your seat, spreading your legs apart. You kept looking at him while letting your hand slide into your panties, you skirt now ridden up. You started rubbing your dripping wet pussy, slowly......
The car took a turn and you guys were now driving through a very empty road. Soon the car came to a stop by the side of the road and you knew exactly where this is going.
Mingyu's eyes met yours, reading them almost... You felt the magnetic pull, and before you knew it, Mingyu pulled you into his lap in one swift motion. You quickly straddled him.
Mingyu's hands were quick to move. One on your hip, holding it in place as his other hand moved to your hair, pulling it roughly. "Look at me and stop wiggling.", he said. You look into his eyes, breathing heavily.
It was dark and mesmerising. You felt drunk from just looking into his eyes. He kept holding your face in place, staring into your soul as his other hand moved from your hip down to your ass.
"Not much fabric here. You like to play dirty, baby? Wanted to tease all the men around you, huh?" He said in a husky voice, it was so dirty. You wouldn't dream to do such thing, but being degraded like this, it just turned you on.
You gasped as you felt a sharp smack on your bottom. "Gyu," you moaned, looking into his eyes still.
"What do you want, whore?", he asked once more, loving the sense of power.
"I want you", you whispered hazily. You felt so drunk. Everything was a haze. And you haven't cum once yet.
He loved the look on your face; the way you looked so fucked out by a mere slap to your ass, the way your seductive big eyes have now turned into a hazy hooded situation, the fact that you were dripping on his lap. Oh fuck! What a lucky man.
His hands roamed your body, almost as if he was trying to find something in the dark. He was quick to move back to the main location as you guys were by the side of a road, with the possibility of being discovered by someone any moment.
Both his hands found your skirt, tugging at the fabric, almost playing with it. He smirked, looking at you. "Since this is already too short to cover anything, might as well make the best out of the situation and fuck you, huh?" He asked, his voice dropping lower and lower.
"I mean, in this position, it is only covering your hips, like a belt.", he continued, staring at your lower body. You felt so dirty, and you loved it! You squirmed under his gaze.
His hands rolled your skirt up, exposing everything, and the feeling of cold air hitting your lower area this time felt electric. You let out a soft whimper.
However, you couldn't get away with just whimpers for long because before you knew it, his fingers were already moving towards your underwear.
"Since you're so into showing Everything to Everybody, what's the use of this little thing, huh?", he said as he ripped your panties apart. He threw them to a side and focused on you.
He pushed your body a little back, making you lean on the steering wheel as he slowly took all of your messy, breathy state into his eyes. Then his eyes moved to your cunt, his fingers following closely behind his gaze. His finger slipped through your folds, testing the water.
"Shit, you're dripping wet, baby. You really are such a needy slut, aren't you? Answer me, baby girl...", he was starting to get pussy drunk. You could feel it. His eyes were starting to get hooded. You two really were a match made in heaven, the way you both were so addicted to each other..
You started to let out breathy moans as his fingers worked your pussy expertly. One squeezing your ass, as the other one rubbed your clit with so much precision. He just knew the perfect spots. You could feel the knot tightening in your lower abdomen, as you fought keep steady in this position.
"Two of his fingers entered into you, while the other hand rubbed you clit. The movements synchronise, making you squeeze your eyes shut. Your legs were starting to tremble.
You squeeze his shoulders, trying your best to stay balanced. "You are very much enjoying this, aren't you? Do you want to make things perfect, and cum for me now?", Gyu asked in the most sexiest way you could imagine a voice to sound, that itself helped you get over the edge. You felt your first orgasm wash over you, taking your breath away. You leaned back, almost hitting the horn in the process.
His left hand moved to your waist, holding you to prevent you from falling while he brought his other hand in between your faces. He looked at his wet fingers, and then at you. Then he brought his fingers to his lips, slowly licking each finger clean, and then licked his lips in the end. He looked straight into your eyes as he did that, making you feel even wetter than you already are.
He then grabbed your face and smashed his lips onto yours, kissing you with so much hunger and lust. It was rough, it was wet, and it was messy. Your hands roamed all over his body, loving the way his muscles flexed with the movements.
You both broke the kiss, fighting for air. "Want. You. In. Me." ,you let out between breaths. You managed to get your hands to move quickly down to his trousers, unzipping him in record time. You lowered the waistband of his boxers and grabbed his dick in your hands. It sprung free, and it was so so hard.
You looked at his face, and his mouth was agape, taking the amazing sight in front of him. However, he quickly reminded himself that HE WAS IN CHARGE and stopped you right in your tracks.
"Slow down there, baby. I will do what I want to do.", he leaned towards you while letting his hand pull you closer towards him. He planted a soft kiss on you neck, moving the kisses upwards, upto your ear. He kisses your ear softly and whispered, "And you wanna know what I wanna do right now?".
Your breath was stuck in your throat. The feelings were feelinging.
"Fucking answer me", he whispered angrily, biting your ear softly. You let out a moan.
"No, I don't know Gyu", you managed to say.
"Let me show you then", he said, and without a warning, he pushed his dick into your pussy. You felt the burn, oh yes, you did! Thank god, you were already dripping... "Oh my fucking god!", you screamed out.
He was thick, so thick and so big! You legit could feel him hitting somewhere up your stomach like seriously. You felt so full.
"Look at me", he said touching your face, "Look at me" he repeated, making you look at him. You did, the feeling was overwhelming.
He started to move in you, all the while keeping his eye contact. Oh fuck. I could cum immediately.
But your mind was too hazy to process it. He continued to fuck you, increasing his pace gradually. The direct eye contact, the way his mouth was slightly open, staring at you, your face, your lips, your eyes. It was so fucking hot.
He pulled you in for a kiss, kissing you everywhere he could find. You kissed his neck, sucking marks onto his skin. His movements stopped suddenly, and you leaned back.
"Ride me, baby", he ordered, leaning back onto the seat, holding your hips with both his hands. You bit your bottom lips, and slowly started to move. His hands were guiding you.
His hands were holding you tight and guiding you well, it helped you ride him easily.
The feeling was so good, and you could see that he was enjoying this very well too. Leaning back, moaning slightly, it was a sight to see. He looked so good! And the fact that it was only you who could make him like this, drew you crazy. "Fuck", you moaned out.
You grabbed his arms, trying to steady yourself, as the muscles were starting to sore and you felt a lot right now. He also started to thrust into you, holding you steadily, taking the reigns back to his hands.
You could feel him throb inside of you, and you also felt your orgasm nearing. "I'm close, Gyu ", you managed to say.
"Me too, baby. So close. Cum for me okay?", he said and increased his speed to max. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as the thrusts hit harded and deeper each time. You just let incoherent words slip out of your mouth as you felt the maximum amout of pleasure you could feel.
Soon, you could feel the familiar wave of pleasure rolling towards you. "I'm cumming", you screamed out and he nodded. You let it take over you, and you moaned while riding out your high, feeling your legs tremble. Soon you felt his hot cum filling you up, and a few thrusts later, he stopped. You both were fucked up, for now atleast.
It took you both a minute to finally gather up the energy to speak, given the intense session you both just had. He slowly pulled out of you. And then he scooped you into his arms and placed you back into your seat.
"Don't ever wear that thing outside again," he finally spoke. "It's dangerous. What if I couldn't come help you in time?", he was starting to scold you. But really, you could hear the worry etched in his voice.
"I'm sorry Gyu, it was my fault.", you admitted sincerely. Tonight really was a shock.
"Oh, you will be," he replied cockily.
"Why?", you asked squinting your eyes at him.
"This was just the warm-up session, baby. The night is long." He said as he zipped himself up after cleaning with some wet wipes and tissues. He then started the engine and started to drive. You were dumbfounded.
You reached to grab a few tissues when Mingyu said, "Oh and by the way, if any of my cum has spilled out of you by the time we get home, you are going to regret it. So squeeze those pretty legs shut, baby.", he warned teasingly. Oh fuck! Tonight is going to be WILD.
****************************************
This was rotting in my drafts for a while now, and the previous ask made me want to post this.
Enjoy! <3
422 notes · View notes