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#that possessive ferality was uh something
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you are john. it has been, what, like eight or ten months since you sent out the notices about the new round of lyctor trials? you have a weird dream one night and decide, on a whim, to check in on how the trials are going. 
you phone home (its not home, home is gone). no one picks up. thats weird, and kind of concerning, so you go to check. canaan house is empty, even of the constructs you left to act as bodies for the partitioned bit of your soul-conglomerate you left there. there seem to be a lot of weird zombies on various continents. whoops, looks like some of the partitions of your soul-network need to be tuned up. well, you can do that after you figure out where the contestants went. 
an extensive round of investigation later, you land on the ninth. yep, that sure does seem to be the missing contestants. and the canaan house priests. and cytherea is here, for some reason. probably plotting against you. and... oh, annabel, good morning. 
while you are getting stabbed by your cavalier, you cant help but notice that it looks like some of the contestants did, in fact, achieve lyctorhood. but uh, definitely not the way they were supposed to. 
#to wit: the sixth and seventh have formed a soul network. only the sixth have living bodies#for some reason the dead body of the seventh cav is being possessed by that BoE bitch your hands were conspiring with almost 20 years ago?#there are 3 members of the third house here? and the actual cav is not involved in thenew 3rd house lyctorhood bond at all aside from#teaching swordsmanship to the? new 3rd cav? who is the necros sister apparently#the fitth havent made a lyctor bond yet but they Do appear to be having something going on with [checks notes] the guy who is supposed to#be the actual ninth cav but apparently isnt. wait so who went as the ninth c— uh. uhhhhhh#okay so you have a kid and the ninth has apparently joined your soul network at some point without you noticing wait wait what is this#wake-me-up-inside is on your soul network too??? youve been hacked.#as for whats going on with the rest: bc if various revelations the 8th have cancelled god who clearly doesnt understand how to#do soul magic in a Right and Proper manner. both the two who were at the trials and once they get the message back the entire house will be#up in arms about it and while the sixth have already been ready to break off from the empire if need be the eighth may try to like. take it#over? it wont go well. either way we are looking at a bigtime schism here#the fourth are trying to get good at enough at soul stuff to do one of the cooler lyctorhoods they have now learned about. the fifth are#trying to stop them from doing this and the most convincing argument theyve had thus far is that they should get past puberty first in case#the type of lyctorhood they end up doing is one of the 'freezes you at that state' one instead of the 'well the ninth aged so#clearly its possible somehow' version. the second were in the timeout corner for a while but there have been. a lot of revelations#and when you are finding stuff out firsthand and being told it directly by gods saint and his cavalier its a little harder to ignore than#if you are traumatized and on the verge of death and being told stuff by insurgents from outside the empire#also gideon has been popping back to earth a lot to 1) get sunlight 2) fight zombies for fun 3) forage for now-feral crop plants to bring#back to the ninth bc damned if shes going back to snow leeks now. also this is how shes dealing with her breakup from cytherea. and getting#space from her mom who sucks and from the drama of finding out her dad is the emperor who also sucks and that she and harrow have a#soul connection sort of that may or may not make them immortal and just. its a lot of questions. a lot of unpleasantness. a lot of pressure#hangin around on the ninth which doesnt feel big enough to get away from the drama. so shes#using her fucking teleportation powers to try her hand at shitty cottagecore life on a zombie-infested tomb of a planet instead of. yknow.#her other hometown tomb planet which is now also a little zombie-infested in a different way
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punkshort · 7 days
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Swept Away | Chapter 7: Making Waves
Pairing: sugardaddy!Joel Miller x f!reader
Chapter Summary: Joel receives some exciting news, meanwhile you're having one of the worst nights of your life.
Chapter Warnings: language, sugar daddy/baby dynamics, alcohol and food consumption, jealousy, sexual tension, flirting, physical violence against reader (not Joel), verbal abuse towards reader, blood/bruising related to an injury, feral Joel came to play, anxiety, insecurities, possessive behavior, smut (18+ MDNI), unprotected piv sex
WC: 10K (yikes)
Series Masterlist
Everything was the same it always was, but somehow also different.
Admittedly, the morning following the art gallery you awoke terrified Joel would ice you out again. You stayed in bed as long as you could, texting Celine just to avoid the inevitable heartbreak, but much to your surprise you heard a knock on your door around ten in the morning.
"Hey," Joel peeked his head into your room and you dropped your phone to your mattress. "You okay? You don't usually sleep this late."
"Yeah," you replied, voice still thick with sleep so you cleared your throat. "Just, uh, taking it easy and..." you trailed off and dropped your gaze to the floor.
"Avoidin' me?"
Your eyes snapped up just to find him leaning against your doorframe with his arms crossed and a teasing smirk on his face.
"Maybe," you whispered, plucking nervously at your comforter. He pushed off the wall and walked over to your side of the bed, then reached out to tame some of the hair around your ear.
"Gonna give me a taste and take it away, that it?"
Your cheeks felt hot and the butterflies in your stomach stirred to life, but you managed to shake your head and hold his gaze. "N-no. I just thought you might've regretted it again."
He sighed and he stopped playing with your hair so he could cup your cheek. "I never regretted it," he told you softly, then leaned down to press a tender kiss against your lips. "Not then and not now," he added before pulling away, leaving you breathless. "Now c'mon, your breakfast is gettin' cold," he said when he turned to walk out of your room.
And that was all that was ever said on the subject.
Now, a handful of days later, everything was business as usual. You still slept in your separate rooms and you went to restaurants together but the air around you was different. It felt charged whenever you were together. A lingering glance here, a gentle touch there reminded you something had definitely changed. Something that went unlabeled and unspoken and you didn't dare try. As much as you wished to take things further and try to get Joel to open up more, you refrained because you could sense he was growing impatient with Glenn and you didn't want to sour his mood even more.
He was running out of time and Joel told you he needed to step things up. So far, Glenn had avoided talking much business and spent most of the time just getting to know everyone better. Joel never pushed him. He saw how Glenn reacted when Zachary or Harry tried to bring up business and it wasn't good, so he bided his time and waited. But now he was feeling the pressure.
"Can't just spend an entire fuckin' month here for nothin'," he grumbled one afternoon as he paced around the hotel. You watched him from your spot on the sofa, still clad in your bikini from spending time by the pool that morning.
You chewed your lip nervously, his anxious energy transferring to you. "How important is it that you win?"
His eyes flickered over to yours and scoffed. "Real fuckin' important. If I get this spot, The Parador would become a household name. The revenue stream from this spot alone would be higher than all my other hotels combined. It would open up a whole new world of opportunities for my business."
Joel rolled his shoulder like he was trying to work out a tight muscle and you pursed your lips. Maybe you just hadn't given it much thought, but it sounded like a much bigger deal than you originally imagined.
"It's about exclusivity," Joel continued, "there's only so much space on this island. Only the best of the best build here, and the world fuckin' knows it. It's why they want to travel to this particular island - they want to experience a level of comfort and luxury they've never known before in the most beautiful place in the world."
"Well, did he say when he was going to make a decision?"
"Said by the end of the trip but no one's even had a chance to give 'em their sales pitch yet," he said, raking his fingers through his hair.
"Maybe he doesn't need the sales pitch," you said, picking up your phone. He stopped pacing and eyed you up.
"What'dya mean?"
You let your phone hang limply in your hand and you looked back up at him.
"Well, he knows what you're all about. He knows what kind of hotels all of you run and how successful you are. He doesn't care what your vision is or what will make your hotel different. But what he does care about is this island."
Joel frowned and slowly sunk into the couch opposite you.
"What else?"
Your lips turned downward and shrugged. "He cares about this island and its people. He wants to make sure the person he picks for this land will respect it and the people who live here. I mean, think about it. Guy could live anywhere but he built a huge mansion right here. His kids live here. His daughter is dedicating her career to helping local artists find success. He loves it here, Joel. He just wants someone who will love it back."
He stared at you for a moment, his expression unreadable until he abruptly stood and in two long strides, closed the distance between you. He grabbed the sides of your head and pulled you up for a deep kiss, the suddenness of it stopping you from responding right away. Just when your brain caught up and your lips began to massage his, he pulled away with a huge smile.
"You're so fuckin' smart, y'know that? Jesus Christ, why didn't I see that?"
You grinned, trying to hide the pleased look on your face by shaking your head and turning away.
"What can I say? I have my moments," you shrugged when you sat back down on the couch. "Guess you got more than you bargained for with me," you added with a laugh.
"Oh, I knew that already," Joel said with a wink. Your cheeks warmed and you looked down at your phone with a stupid smile stretched across your face. It was moments like those when you heard the voice inside your head scream at you to ask the obvious question: what did you mean to him?
He kissed you like you were his girlfriend, but he never invited you into his bedroom. He had said he wanted more, but had yet to try. Was he waiting for you to make a move? You had been practically throwing yourself at him for the past week, there was no way you were going to do that again.
Joel had dialed someone who worked for him, completely oblivious to the confusion swirling around in your head. Instead, he was excitedly conveying the breakthrough you had about Glenn to the man on the other end and began to talk strategy. Already feeling bored, you decided to get up and go take a shower so you were ready for dinner, but as you were walking back towards your bedroom, you heard Joel say quietly into his phone, "No, I didn't even think of it. My girl did."
My girl.
Oh, you could get used to that.
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"Aren't you bored as hell when Joel runs off to hang with the guys?" Zoe asked over dinner. Ironically, you had picked the same restaurant as Lynne and Tammy, who also invited Ian, for dinner. You didn't know Ian very well but from the look of it, he seemed to be caught in the middle. He tossed a few glances your way and gave you each friendly smiles, but Lynne and Tammy ignored you completely. However, based on their body language, you had a strong feeling they were most definitely talking about the two of you.
"Sometimes," you admitted. You shot the waiter a smile when he placed two drinks on the table. You each quickly grabbed them, clinking your glasses together before taking a long sip.
"Well, only one more week and then you'll have him all to yourself again, lucky girl," she said with a flirty wink. You thought you responded but you couldn't be sure because she had unexpectedly knocked you sideways. One more week? Christ, where did the time go? And what would happen between you and Joel when you got back home? Would he really just pay you and disappear from your life forever? The thought made you sick to your stomach and you had to put your drink down.
"You okay?" Zoe asked, furrowing her brows. "You look a little queasy."
"No, I'm fine," you said quickly, waving her off. "Just hungry."
"Sure you're not pregnant?" she teased. You laughed and pointed to your drink.
"Would be a little irresponsible of me, wouldn't it?"
You were so grateful for Zoe. She was a safe place when you were feeling lonely or insecure and it made you sad you wouldn't be able to keep in touch once the trip was over. How could you? If you did, she would eventually figure out you were hired, just like she was, to accompany Joel to the island.
Maybe it was the two devastating reality checks in a row but you had a hard time snapping out of your funk. You tried, you really did, but you couldn't stop thinking about losing Joel and Zoe so soon. It didn't help matters when she got a text from Zachary telling her the night with Glenn on his boat was going long and not to bother staying up.
She sighed with relief and flicked her hair over her shoulder before glancing around the dining room, murmuring to you about how she could use a night off while you just stared down at your phone, waiting for a similar text from Joel.
Nothing.
My girl.
You took a deep breath, trying to tamp down the insecurity, but it was hard. It was so fucking hard. Why was it always so difficult with Joel? Why did it always feel like whenever you took one step forward, you take two steps back? Did he even like you? You thought he did, but maybe you were wrong. Maybe he was just treating you like a sugar baby this whole time and you stupidly thought -
Your phone buzzed on the table and when you saw Joel's name pop up, relief instantly swept through you and all your nagging self-doubt faded away.
Going to be late, sweetheart. I'm sorry but I got a good feeling - finally getting somewhere with Glenn
You smiled, despite not being able to see him the rest of the night, he thought enough to text you and he called you sweetheart.
Right when you were about to reply, he texted you again.
I'll make it up to you ;)
You must have looked flustered because Zoe cleared her throat and quirked an eyebrow at you when you finally tore your eyes away from your phone.
"Do you have something to share with the class?"
You shook your head and tried to hide your smile behind your hand but failed. Still, Zoe peered curiously across the table and read Joel's last text upside down. She gave you a jealous pout and sat back in her chair.
"Not fair. You're so lucky," she sighed. "I think once Zachary and I are done, I'm going to quit."
"What?!" you quietly exclaimed. She nodded and shrugged.
"I'm done with it. It was fun, I got to travel a lot, have nice things and meet cool people but I need to think about my future, you know? And there's, like, a zero percent fucking chance I'll meet the love of my life being a sugar baby."
You nodded, struggling to figure out what to do with a sharp pang in your chest. Was it so impossible to think anything serious could come from a relationship with a sugar daddy? Luckily, Zoe continued.
"I look at you guys and I'm just reminded of what I could have, y'know? All I want is a guy who looks at me the way Joel looks at you."
Jesus Christ, Zoe was shaking you up and she didn't even know it.
"H-how does he look at me?"
Zoe rolled her eyes at you before saying, "C'mon, you know. He can't keep his eyes off you. He's so fucking into you, it's sick."
You laughed at that, a sharp little bark of disbelief, but then quickly corrected yourself. You had to change the subject, your emotions were splintering and you were desperate to talk about something lighter, but before you did, you sent Joel a text.
Can't wait ;)
Shoving your phone back into your purse, you turned your attention back to Zoe, frowning when you saw the sour look on her face as she finished her drink.
"What?"
She leaned across the table and lowered her voice. "Don't turn around but Trevor and Brooks are at the bar."
Your stomach twisted into knots and you took another drink, grateful to see your food arriving if just for the distraction alone.
"Wonder why they aren't on the boat with everyone else," you mumbled before stabbing a piece of pasta with your fork.
"I heard Brooks didn't want to go and Glenn sent Trevor to keep an eye on him," Zoe told you mischievously.
"How the hell do you hear all this gossip?" you asked after you wiped the shocked look off your face. Zoe giggled and swallowed a bite of her salmon.
"I get bored, I eavesdrop."
"Damn, either Joel doesn't hear this stuff or he doesn't care because the only phone calls I hear from him are work calls," you said before offering her a bite of your dish. She eagerly accepted and gave you some salmon in return. "Wonder why Glenn thought Brooks needed a babysitter," you said after another moment.
Zoe put her fork down and gave you a look that told you she knew way more than she should, so you mimicked her and set your fork down as well to give her your full attention.
"I don't think Glenn and Mary trust Brooks to carry on the business once he retires," Zoe said, glancing once over your shoulder at the bar. "I don't know why but that night at Glenn's house, I went to the bathroom and overheard Mary telling Brooks this is your last chance, or something like that."
You raised your eyebrows in surprise and slowly leaned back in your seat. So it wasn't just you who thought something was off about him. Then Joel's comment about drug use slipped back into your brain and you were about to tell her but you decided to bite your tongue at the last minute. You trusted Zoe, but you didn't want to betray Joel. So instead, you kept your mouth shut and played dumb.
"That's... crazy," you said, fumbling for words. It didn't seem to bother Zoe because she just nodded and picked up her fork.
"I know, right? Kind of humbling to know Glenn and Mary don't have the perfect little family we all thought."
When the waiter approached, you assumed he was coming to check on your food, but instead he held in his hand a bottle of champagne. "From Mr. Miller with his sincerest apologies," the waiter had said, making you blush when Zoe gave you an incredulous look. As sweet as it was, you really hoped that's not what he meant by 'making it up to you'. After the champagne was poured and the waiter left, placing the bottle on ice first, she pretended to stab your arm with her fork.
"What the hell, girl? Maybe I need to get a front desk job for some billionaire so I can find my own Joel."
You giggled and took a sip from your glass, the bubbles popping on your tongue. It could have been a three hundred dollar bottle of champagne or a ten dollar bottle, it didn't matter to you. The mere fact Joel figured out where you went for dinner and sent something over was astounding to you and you prayed you were reading the signals right.
"I should thank him," you said, pulling your phone back out to send him a quick text.
You didn't need to do that, but thank you :)
In less than a minute, you got your reply.
No need to thank me, baby - enjoy and I'll see you tomorrow
"Looks like your man's little gift caught someone's eye," Zoe said with a grin. You followed her gaze to Tammy and Lynne's table, catching the nasty look they were sending your way before they turned around and you giggled into your palm.
"She's still pissed with me because I almost pulled all her hair out at the art gallery the other night."
Zoe's eyes went wide and her jaw dropped. "Excuse me?!"
You laughed and stood up from the table, dropping your napkin on your chair before grabbing your purse. "I'll tell you all about it after I use the restroom."
She made a pained squeak, disgruntled you were leaving her hanging, but you just grinned and stepped away.
"You better be quick!" she shouted after you. Fuck, you were really going to miss hanging out with her.
Despite the looming conclusion to your trip, you were feeling pretty good. At least, in that moment, things felt like they were going well with Joel and you were having a nice time at dinner, even though Tammy had just been staring daggers at you.
The one thing you somehow managed to forget about was Brooks, who unfortunately exited the men's bathroom just as you were searching for the women's room.
"Well, look who it is," Brooks said when he spotted you. You tried to give him a polite smile but you weren't sure you succeeded.
"Oh, hi," was all you said when you tried to squeeze past him. Right as you passed, his hand shot out to grab your arm and you swiveled around.
"You ladies having a nice time?" he asked with a toothy smile. His dark eyes bored into you and if you looked close enough, you could see his pupils were like pinpricks. Then his hand casually swiped against his nostrils and you figured out what he had just been doing in the bathroom.
"Yeah, thanks. This place is nice," you said, taking a subtle step backwards before hooking your thumb over your shoulder. "Excuse me," you added, and before he could say anything else you turned on your heel and headed for the women's room a few feet away, relaxing once you heard the door swing closed behind you.
After you used the bathroom and washed your hands, you were fixing your hair and makeup in the mirror, your thoughts back on Joel, mind wandering to what exactly he meant by I'll make it up to you later when the door flung open. You hardly had a chance to process what was happening until Brooks locked the door and turned on you, sending a hot jolt of fear through your entire body.
"Listen, I'm gonna be straight up with you," he said, pinching the tip of his nose. His eyes looked a little red in the bright lighting of the bathroom and you could see beads of sweat collecting at his temples. You tried to create more room but your back was already pressed against the sink: you had nowhere to go.
"I know what your deal is," he told you, his hands fidgeting at his sides. "I know you're only into that old fuck for his money but I can promise you, I'm about to have double what he's got."
You blinked slowly, struggling to keep your breathing even. Your entire body was rigid, muscles tense and straining under your skin, and your heart was pounding so loudly, you could feel it in your ears. How could he possibly know?
"W-what?" you stammered. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Brooks's arm darted up from his side to grip the back of your hair too roughly, making you cry out in surprise and grab onto his forearm.
"C'mon, don't play games with me. I know a gold digger when I see one. And that's perfectly fucking fine. I don't care! Mad respect. What I'm trying to tell you is I could give you so much more than him," Brooks told you, taking a step closer so his hips pinned you against the sink. You whimpered and tugged at his wrist but he wouldn't budge. "I got more money and live in fucking paradise, baby," he said, trying to sound seductive as he leaned forward and tugged your earlobe between his teeth, making you recoil in disgust.
"Get off me!" you shouted, shoving him backwards as hard as you could. It worked. He let go of the back of your head when he stumbled away, but unfortunately it only served to piss him off.
"Are you fucking serious?" he seethed, expression turning stormy as he closed the distance between you and grabbed the back of your neck so suddenly, you were too stunned to react. "Do you even realize what I'm offering you, here?"
"I don't care," you said, scratching frantically at the back of his hand, body writhing as you tried to escape. Your engagement ring caught on his skin, tearing it and making him hiss. "I don't want anything to do with you! Get the fuck away from me!" You tried to push him again but he was ready for it that time. He grabbed your wrists with one big hand and yanked your head backwards so your back was arched over the sink. Your eyes filled with tears as you squirmed and tried to wiggle out of his grasp to no avail.
"Dumb bitch," he snarled. "You could have someone younger with more money. Thousands of women would jump at this chance but you're too fucking stupid, huh?"
Amidst the tears, anger ripped through you and without even thinking twice, you twisted around in his grasp to sink your teeth into his hand. Brooks inhaled sharply and cursed under his breath, dropping your wrists but keeping a firm hold on the back of your neck. You shoved at him again, over and over, trying your hardest to loosen his grip so you could make a run for it, but you just weren't strong enough. And maybe it was the drugs coursing through his veins or his ego took too big of a hit, but you didn't anticipate what happened next:
He let you go.
At first, you thought someone had stepped in, but when your panicked eyes darted around the room, you found you were still alone. The sudden freedom made you hesitate and it probably wouldn't have made a difference anyway, but later you would wonder if maybe you had reacted faster, it would have saved you alot of hurt and pain.
"Stop fucking shoving me, I'm trying to change your miserable little life," he growled, lunging forward to push your chest with all his might. His strength sent you flying backwards but you managed to catch yourself before you hit the back of your head on the porcelain of the sink. As a result, you twisted around and smacked your mouth on the edge of the vanity. Pain instantly bloomed under your lips and you feebly cupped your mouth, whimpering in agony as blood began to trickle through your fingers.
"Look what you did!" Brooks roared, and by now you could hear Trevor's voice in the hallway. Tears streamed down your cheeks, mixing with the blood and dripping onto the white tile floor. You sobbed into your hands and tried to hide under the sink because at that point, you had no idea what he was capable of doing.
You had squeezed your eyes shut and braced for the impact of a fist or a foot but thankfully, none came. Had you the courage to open your eyes, you would have seen him come to the sobering realization of what he just did when he saw your blood on the floor. He swiped his hand anxiously over his mouth, eyes darting around the room while you cowered in fear, and slowly backed away towards the door.
"Brooks! Open the goddamn door!" Trevor's voice came from the hallway, his tone quiet to avoid any attention but still laced with anger. He did as his brother asked, shakily undoing the lock and brushing past him, and Trevor glanced into the room before the door shut. His eyes widened and his jaw fell open when he saw the state you were in and rushed inside.
"Oh, fuck, I'm so sorry," he murmured, crouching down next to you. "What can I do? T-tell me what to do!"
"Get ... Zoe," you choked out between sobs. He nodded and backed away slowly, still unable to believe what he was seeing before he rushed down the hallway.
Zoe sprung into action the moment she saw you in the bathroom and you had never felt so grateful for anyone in your life. She got you out of there before anyone could see and ushered you quickly into the waiting car by the curb. It wouldn't be until later that you discovered it was Trevor who ordered the car on standby while Zoe was doing her best to clean you up before getting you out of there. She must have been rattled because her hands were shaking but you never would have known it by the way she spoke and took control.
By the time you got back to the hotel, the sun had set and the lobby was relatively empty. You kept your tear soaked face tilted towards the floor with a napkin pressed against your mouth to stem the bleeding as Zoe led you to the elevators. Once you were in the safety and privacy of your room, you released a haggard sob that was a mix of relief and frustration.
"Let's get you to the bathroom," she said, taking you by the shoulders after kicking both your shoes off in the foyer.
While you were having a decidedly terrible fucking evening, Joel had been having the exact opposite experience on Glenn's boat. Somewhere tucked inside your purse, which was abandoned on the dining room table next to a handful of bloody tissues, your phone lit up with a text from Joel:
Heading back now - hope you're still up bc Glenn pulled me aside 10 min ago and told me he's giving me the fucking land! We gotta celebrate baby
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It was late. You never answered his text so he assumed you were in bed, but fuck... maybe he should wake you up.
He got the fucking land.
Glenn didn't announce it yet, but he planned to soon. Joel finally felt like he could relax and maybe enjoy what little time you had left together. He tried not to think too hard about that last part and just focused on the present, like following through with his promise to you.
As he swiped his card through the reader, he smirked to himself, thinking of all the ways he could make things up to you, then froze when he walked into the foyer and saw an unfamiliar pair of high heels by the door. His gaze traveled up and saw all the lights were still on.
That was unusual.
He took a few tentative steps inside, expecting to maybe see you and Zoe by the pool or in the living room, but he was wrong. And it was way too quiet.
He called out your name as he ventured further into the room and then two things happened at once: right as Zoe emerged from the bathroom with a shaken look on her face, Joel saw the pile of bloody tissues next to your purse on the table.
Something was wrong.
His eyes darted up to Zoe's and she held up her hands, palms out, before shakily saying, "There was an accident-"
"Where is she?" he asked. He could feel his throat closing up and his chest beginning to squeeze tight. Fuck, it was hard to breathe.
"She's okay, but she's got a busted lip and -"
Joel tore past Zoe in the blink of an eye, noticing the light on underneath your closed bathroom door. He knocked urgently, saying, "It's me, open up," but you didn't answer. He could feel the anxiety taking hold and flooding his veins with adrenaline. His hands trembled when he knocked again.
"She's a little shook up," Zoe explained from behind him. He dragged his palms nervously over his face and turned to her.
"What happened?"
Zoe opened and closed her mouth, unsure how to answer. "I only got a little bit out of her, but she was attacked in the women's room at the restaurant."
"Attacked?" Joel repeated incredulously. It was so much worse than he thought.
Zoe nodded right when the bathroom door clicked unlocked. You opened it a crack and went back to curl up in the empty spa bath with the pillow and blanket Zoe had brought for you from the living room.
"I can't get her to go lay down in your bedroom," Zoe explained before Joel nodded and pushed the door open. The first thing he saw was the counter filled with bloodied white washcloths and tissues, the sight more than a little horrifying but when he saw your reflection in the mirror, he swiveled around with a jolt.
"Jesus Christ," he whispered, then rushed to the edge of the tub and fell to his knees. He reached out to cup your face; your puffy, swollen, bruised up face.
His eyes never stopped moving. They darted everywhere, taking in every single detail, but mostly lingering on your split lower lip and the bright purple bruise blooming below your eye. His thumb traced gently over your cheek and he felt a sharp twist in his chest when you winced.
"What happened?" he asked you softly.
You sniffled and shook your head but he pinched your chin and made you look him directly in the eye.
"Baby, what happened?" he asked again, "Someone attacked you? Did you call the cops?"
Again, you shook your head then glanced at Zoe over his shoulder.
"Just tell him, babe," she said encouragingly. You sighed and pulled the blanket tighter around your shoulders.
"Promise me you won't get mad," you began, voice thick and gravelly from crying. Joel pinched his eyebrows together and dropped his hand from your chin.
"I ain't gonna be mad at you, sweetheart," he whispered. You watched him swallow and you took a deep breath.
"Brooks cornered me," you finally admitted, tears stinging your tired eyes. "He followed me into the bathroom and locked the door. He - he said some nasty fucking shit and got mad when I told him to leave."
Joel's nostrils flared, his eyes scorching with rage.
"But I pushed him, Joel. I pushed him and so he pushed me back and then I fell into the sink and -"
"Why'd you push him, honey?" he asked, trying to sound calm but you could hear the anger simmering below the surface.
"Because... he kept grabbing me and wouldn't let go. Like, around my neck and hair. He wanted-"
"I know what he wanted," Joel said darkly, pushing himself up to stand then turned to acknowledge Zoe. "Can you stay with her for an hour?"
Zoe nodded and your eyes went wide.
"Joel-"
"It's alright, sweetheart. I'm gonna take care of it."
He stormed out of the bathroom, fists clenched at his sides, trying desperately to contain his anger but his face felt hot and his jaw already ached from how hard he was grinding his teeth.
You scrambled out of the tub, knocking your knee painfully against the porcelain, and raced after him. "Joel! You can't!"
"I'll be back in an hour," was all he said before snatching his wallet from the table and disappearing out into the hall.
"It'll be okay," Zoe said, appearing at your side to rub your back. "Why don't we try to put ice on your lip again?"
You wiped at your nose with the back of your hand and nodded, allowing her to refresh the washcloth with ice and getting you settled on the couch before stepping away to call Zachary to let him know where she was. She had clicked the button on the fireplace remote before she stepped outside to make her call so you stared blankly into the flames while praying Joel didn't do something incredibly stupid.
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Joel was gone more than an hour. Zoe sat with you underneath a shared blanket while you watched some mindless television show and iced your face. The bleeding stopped long ago but the pain was beginning to set in, so she got you some ibuprofen and forced you to drink extra water, assuring you it would help.
By the time Joel finally returned, your eyes were beginning to droop but when you heard the door click open, you got a sudden burst of energy.
Sitting up straight and tugging the blanket around your knees, you craned your neck around, waiting for him to appear. He stepped in from the foyer a little disheveled but otherwise seemed fine, but when he locked eyes with you, you knew something happened.
"Thanks, Zoe. I'm sure Zach's worried 'bout you."
His voice was deep and commanding, eyes never leaving yours. She immediately stood, giving you one more hug and whispering in your ear to call if you needed anything, then gathered her things to leave.
You remained planted on the couch, unable to tear your eyes away from the look on Joel's face. When the front door clicked shut, signifying you were finally alone, his shoulders visibly sagged then he marched over to the couch.
Without a word, he scooped you up in his arms, blanket and all, and took you down the hall towards your bedroom. Now that you were closer, you could see some red marks on his cheek and neck, but you didn't have much time to dwell on it because to your surprise, Joel turned left instead of right, taking you into his room.
You hardly were ever in his room. The door was always closed when you walked by and your memory was hazy but you remembered it was bigger and he had his own bathroom attached. He carefully set you down on his bed, the side that remained untouched, before disappearing into his bathroom. You took a second to look around the now well lived in room. All around you were pieces of Joel: reading glasses, crumpled pieces of paper and a chapstick on his nightstand, a phone charger dangling from the wall next to his bed, a few articles of clothing were scattered around along with discarded shoes. If it didn't hurt to smile, you would have because you finally learned something new about Joel Miller: he was messy.
"Did you disinfect it?" Joel asked when he stepped back into the room with a wet towel. You slowly shook your head. You and Zoe had been more concerned about stopping the bleeding and then worried about damage to your teeth to really think about disinfectant.
He nodded and sat down on the edge of the bed, then beckoned you to come forward. You scooted closer and stretched out your neck, giving him better access to your face. He dabbed carefully at your lip, his eyes stormy while he still fought with the remnants of his adrenaline. When your eyes met, his gaze softened and he slowly dropped his hand to his lap.
"I'm so sorry," he whispered, the emotion in his voice bewildering you.
"It's not your fault," you countered, but he shook his head and dropped his chin to his chest.
"Shoulda been there. Been leavin' you alone too much -"
"That's okay, Joel. That's why we're here, right? You need to do whatever it takes to get that land."
His heart sank and he closed his eyes. You obviously still hadn't checked your phone but he didn't bother telling you the news, anyway, because after what he just did to Brooks, he was certain that land was no longer his.
"You oughta get some rest, darlin'," he said softly while standing to head back into his bathroom. He dropped the washcloth into the tub, glancing briefly at his knuckles now that he had stepped out of the darkness of his bedroom. He did a piss poor job cleaning them up but he didn't care. He was exhausted and just wanted to go to bed.
When he came back into the bedroom, he frowned when he saw you with your hand on the doorknob.
"What're you doin'?"
You turned back to him and when he saw your face again, it felt like all the air got knocked out of him.
It's a miracle Joel didn't kill him.
"I'm... going back to my room," you replied, your voice so small and weak that it broke his heart. He shook his head and pointed back to the bed, right where you were sitting.
"Stay," he said, then softened his voice and added, "please."
Your hand dropped to your side immediately and you looked around. "My pajamas-"
"I'll get 'em," he said, pointing to the bed again. "Rest," he told you when he walked across the room, taking you gently by the shoulders and guiding you towards his bed. You did as you were told while he hurried across the hall for your clothes, then stopped at your bathroom for your toothbrush before returning and shutting the door.
You thanked him softly and disappeared into his bathroom to wash up. Joel nervously paced around his room, tossing his dirty clothes into an ever growing pile near the closet before tugging on a white tshirt and slipping into bed.
Shyly, you stepped out of the bathroom wearing a loose fitting cotton tank top and matching shorts. You looked at him and he ushered you forward in the darkness, so you flicked off the bathroom light and scurried into bed.
He couldn't stop himself. He immediately rolled onto his side and wrapped his arms around your middle, pulling you close, breathing in deep the scent of your shampoo and mint from his toothpaste.
You hummed happily and turned onto your side so his chest pressed against your back. The warmth of his arms surrounding you made you finally feel safe and at peace. But then your hand fell to rest on top of his and you froze, your eyes flying open in the pitch black room.
"Joel?"
"Hm?"
Your thumb gently brushed over the broken skin on his knuckles, then you sought out his other hand to do the same and your heart stopped.
"What did you do?" you whispered with a tremor to your voice.
He swallowed thickly and buried his face in the back of your neck before responding.
"What I had to."
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You had a fitful night's sleep. If you weren't dreaming about a dark pair of eyes screaming horrible things at you in a bathroom, then you were dreaming about the aftermath of whatever Joel did to Brooks. Best case scenario, Glenn doesn't choose Joel to purchase the land. Worst case scenario, he gets arrested in the morning.
Both options fucking sucked.
If you were lucky, you got three hours of sleep. You laid in Joel's arms, listening to him softly snore behind you while the sky turned from pitch black to a deep, angry blue through the glass French doors that lead out to the pool.
Everything hurt, but the thing that hurt the most was your heart. You tried, you really did, but Brooks's words got to you. They festered under your skin, burrowed deep down and gnawed away at you until they found a permeant spot in your chest.
Nothing helped. A day ago you would have been thrilled to find yourself in Joel's bed, but as you laid there, all you could hear was gold digger, dumb bitch, look what you did!
Your mind had a vice grip on those words and it made you sick.
You wiggled in Joel's grasp, deciding there was no use in lying there if all you were going to do was work yourself up, but his grip tightened around you protectively and pulled you into his chest. You sighed and shifted around a bit more when his sleep filled voice startled you.
"Quit squirmin'."
You stilled and lifted your chin up. "I can't sleep, I was trying to get up without waking you."
"You ain't goin' anywhere," he grumbled, and for the first time since dinner, you felt the corner of your mouth tug into a careful smile. "Why can't you sleep? You hurtin'?"
You swallowed and dropped your gaze to his hands, which were pressed firm against your stomach. Now that the room was lighter, you could see the extent of the damage and it made you cringe.
"No," you whispered, only partially lying before closing your eyes so you wouldn't look at his knuckles any longer. "Can't stop thinking about -"
You cut yourself off but Joel knew what you were going to say. He sighed and pressed a kiss against your shoulder, surprising you despite the intimate position you had found yourself in all night.
He could feel how tense your muscles were so he gave your shoulder another kiss, but that time he let his lips linger a bit longer than was necessary. He smirked a little when he saw goosebumps flare across your skin, so he did it again.
"My poor girl," he whispered, his voice dropping to sound more seductive. "I'm so sorry you went through all this, baby. You don't deserve it," he added sweetly before brushing his lips over your shoulder and up the back of your neck. His exhale tickled you behind the ear and you felt yourself melt into his hold.
You boldly took one of his hands and dragged it up from where it rested against your stomach to lay flat between your breasts, letting him feel the way your heart raced, all for him.
His breath hitched in his throat, unable to resist brushing his palm experimentally over your hardening nipple, your thin top not providing much of a barrier. Instinctively, your back arched ever so slightly. Your ass pressed into his hips, causing him to groan, so you did it again.
"Christ," he murmured, tightening his grip, fingertips dimpling the soft flesh above your breast. "What're you doin', sweetheart?"
You only whimpered a little when you rolled your hips into him again to feel his erection pressing firmly against your ass. His responding growl sent a shiver down your spine and had your head tilting back so his mouth could suck on a spot behind your ear.
"Joel, please," you breathed. He made a little noise of disapproval in the back of his throat but that didn't stop him from biting gently at your neck.
"Don't think it's a good idea," he murmured into your hair, but the throb of his cock pressed against you said otherwise. "You've been through so much, you need your rest. You gotta heal, honey."
You whined impatiently and twisted around in his arms so you could finally see him. His hair was a mess but his eyes were bright and his skin had a pink tint, giving away his aroused state, as if you didn't already know.
"Please," you begged softly, brushing your lips carefully against his. Your hand slid up to rake through the matted hair on the back of his head while you nipped eagerly at his lower lip. "Please make it feel better, Joel."
His eyelids fluttered for a moment as he felt himself losing the battle. With a deep groan, he rolled over to pin you underneath him. He made a mistake when his instincts took over and he pressed his lips firmly against yours and you whimpered painfully. He immediately drew back and inspected your wounded lip for further injury, guilt flashing in his eyes.
"It's okay, I'm okay," you whispered, pulling him back down but tilting your chin up so he could kiss your neck, instead. You felt his muscles relax, his movements slowing and growing more tender, but kept his hips pressed against your core as a reminder of how hard you made him. "I'm okay," you whispered again, sliding your eyes closed with a soft moan while his mouth dragged up and down the column of your throat and his hand roamed freely underneath the hem of your shirt.
With hardly any effort at all, he lifted your tank above your head and tossed it onto the floor. His mouth immediately latched onto one breast while his hand played with the other. Between his tongue and fingers working steadily over your nipples, it took no time at all before you were a puddle underneath him.
"So beautiful," he murmured into your skin. His hand trailed down your side to play with the drawstring of your shorts, giving you another chance to ask him to stop, but instead you followed his lead and dipped your fingers past the waistband of his boxers. He inhaled sharply against your chest when you wrapped your fist around his cock for the first time and had to remind himself to be gentle when he heard you gasp at his size.
"Y'sure, baby?" he rasped, unable to stop his hips from thrusting lightly into your hand while you stroked him up and down.
"Mhmm," you mumbled, voice getting lost somewhere in your throat. You had never wanted someone as badly as you wanted him. It felt like he was everywhere. His scent, his hands, the pressure of his weight on top of you... you had never been more sure about anything in your life.
You hoped he didn't notice the nervous tremble in your hands when you pushed his boxers down his legs but after he tore off his shirt, he shakily fumbled with your own shorts and you had to hold back the smile that threatened to stretch across your broken lip. Was he nervous, too?
He sat back to drink you all in when you were finally bare before him, his eyes hungrily roaming over your soft curves, making you forget about every little imperfection you ever obsessed over. You only had a moment to admire his broad, tanned chest and thick biceps before he fell back onto his elbows to cage you in.
Your pulse thrummed fast under his gaze, the skin at your jugular twitching with each nervous beat of your heart.
"Wish I could kiss you," he admitted, eyes darting down to your lip.
"Me, too," you murmured before reaching down between your bodies. Your fingers wrapped around his thick length and you spread your legs wider to accommodate him. You guided him to your center, eyes never leaving his, before releasing his cock to wrap your arms around his ribs instead.
"Keep your eyes on me, okay?" he asked, voice a little broken at the request. You nodded and held your breath when you felt his tip breach your entrance. Of course, when his hips shifted to slide halfway inside, your eyes fluttered closed and your arms fell to grab at the sheets, the stretch taking your breath away.
"Baby, c'mon," he begged, nipping at your jaw. With a gasp, your eyes flew open to find his and nodded, wordlessly telling him to continue. One of his hands reached for your wrist and pinned it into the bedding next to your head. His fingers spread wide and found yours, lacing your hands together when he pushed in the rest of the way with a soft grunt.
"O-oh, fuck," you panted, struggling for air as you wiggled your hips, your cunt feeling like it was stretched to the limit. Joel watched you squirm underneath him and he couldn't help the way his chest swelled with pride.
"Yeah, you like that, baby? That feel good?" he muttered, cock throbbing inside you. You nodded, lips parted and eyes glassy, fingers flexing around his. Your fingertips brushed over his now scabbed over knuckles and a wave of your slick soaked his cock, turned on by the physical evidence of what he did to defend you.
And he noticed.
He noticed the way your eyelids drooped and your jaw went slack when you felt his knuckles again. Joel drew his hips back before slowly pushing his way back in, giving you his cock nice and slow.
"Could've killed him," he told you. Your eyes snapped open wide, looking up at him all soft and doe eyed. "Could've killed him for touching you, y'know that?"
You whimpered and wrapped your legs around his waist. Then your bruised, swollen lower lip trembled and his gaze darted down. Very carefully, he grazed his lips over your wound, both of you breathing in deeply as his hips pulled back and rocked into you once again. The stretch was intense, the feeling of him filling you up so perfectly overwhelming your senses.
You murmured his name and nuzzled your nose against his face, growing frustrated you couldn't kiss him. Once he set a slow, yet steady, rhythm, he pulled your hand up above your head, pushing it deep into the pillows, fingers tightening around yours as he plunged inside of you over and over. You could sense his frustration, too, by the way your jaws hung open, hovering over the other, breathing sharp gasps and pants into each other's mouths each time his hips snapped into you, knocking the air from your lungs.
"Wish I could taste you," you whispered against his open mouth. His brows pinched together, your confession rattling him for a second. "Want to know how your cock feels on my tongue. Wonder how much I can take," you continued, enjoying the way he was reacting way too much. Unconsciously, his hips picked up the pace, fucking into you a little harder and pushing you up into the pillows. His face contorted as if he were in pain and he squeezed his eyes shut.
"Can't say shit like that," he groaned, letting his forehead fall to rest on your shoulder. "Gonna make me come. You feel too good, fuck," he whimpered. "Shoulda been fuckin' you since we got here."
You smirked, as much as your lips would allow, anyway, before replying.
"Better make up for lost time, then."
His teeth sunk into the skin stretching across your collarbone and you moaned, slipping your fingers through his curls with your free hand. You held him there against your neck and shoulder, sighing at the trail of licks and kisses he left on your skin while his cock continued to mold a path inside you, your cunt squeezing around him with every sharp thrust.
"Shit, that's my girl," he rasped, tongue flicking out lazily to lick at your sweaty skin. "Takin' everythin' I give you. This pretty pussy just needed my cock, hm? Needed me to make it all better?"
My girl.
Stars exploded behind your eyes when you squeezed them shut, his filth hitting you like a goddamn freight train.
"Yes!" you cried out, tipping your head back into the pillow and tightening your hold on his hand. "Yes, Joel, fuck - feels so good. S-so deep. It's so much," you whined while he sucked another mark into the soft flesh above your left breast.
He soothed you with a reassuring hum before unlocking one of your legs from his waist and hooking it over his shoulder. You gasped, the sharp angle making it feel far more intense than before, dragging you closer and closer to your climax.
"Oh, my god!" you cried out when the tip of his cock nudged against a spot inside you that had your legs shaking and your vision blurring. Joel reared back, your hand falling limply from his hair, so he could fuck you harder. He huffed and panted for air, staring down at you with his jaw clenched tight and sweat trailing down the sides of his face.
The noises you were making should have embarrassed you but you didn't care, especially since Joel appeared to enjoy them so much. You gazed up at him, gasping for air every time his hips slammed into yours. You probably looked like a mess but he didn't seem to mind at all.
"Good?" was all he managed to grunt, entirely fixated on making you come.
"Yes," you whined, "please don't stop. Christ, Joel, I -"
You cut yourself off with a low moan, the relentless pace he set bringing you to the brink of an orgasm so intense, tears were already filling your eyes. He felt your muscles tensing when your breath started to come in jagged little gasps and he quickly cupped your face to tilt it up towards him, eager to watch you fall apart again, but this time promised to be much more satisfying.
With a deep growl, he ground his hips into you, rubbing the coarse hairs that curled at the base of his cock against your clit, soaking up your arousal with each pass.
Your mouth fell open and your face crumpled when you came, a litany of curses spilling from your lips while Joel continued to drag against your clit, drawing out your orgasm as long as possible while he actively fought back his own.
"Fuck, that's pretty," he grunted, still holding your face in his massive hand while the last waves washed over you. You nuzzled blindly into his palm, his other hand still holding yours so tightly, his knuckles began to slowly trickle fresh blood. "So goddamn pretty f'me, baby," he added, voice growing strained. His gaze dropped to where you were connected, watching how your slick had spread all over his cock and stomach, then flicked his eyes back up to you.
"I'm gonna come," he whimpered, cheeks puffing, sweat soaked hair sticking to his forehead, and brown eyes fixed on the now relaxed expression on your face. "Are you - can I -"
"Yes," you said quickly, "yes, Joel. God, yes, please come inside me, please," you pleaded. His eyes rolled to the back of his head when he came, your begging being the last push he needed to fall over the edge with a loud groan.
You watched in a trance, memorizing the look of ecstasy on his face, the little ungh followed by a low hiss each time he thrusted forward, shooting his spend deep inside your used cunt until his arms shook and he finally let go of your hand, leg falling from his shoulder.
"Fuck," he gasped, each of you fighting for air while you waited for your hearts to stop racing. His hands gently braced your hips before he slipped out of your wet clutch, his cock still half hard and covered with your combined release. You made a little noise at the loss, at the sudden feeling of emptiness, but he quickly fell to your side and pulled your back against his chest, soothing you with soft strokes against your hip as you worked through the aftershocks of your orgasm.
"Think you can go to sleep now?" he asked, his voice hoarse and muffled from his face burrowing into your back.
"Yeah," you sighed, wiggling in his hold until you were comfortable. His seed was still dripping out of you but the last thing you wanted to do was clean it up. You wanted to feel him there for as long as possible, even though you knew the ache in your hips would serve as a constant reminder for the next day or two, at least.
"Good," he grumbled as if he were annoyed, but you could feel his lips curving into a smile against your skin.
The last thing you remembered before falling asleep were the little bright red dots that stained his knuckles on the hand that was connected to the arm wedged underneath you, holding you safe and sound.
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"French fries for breakfast?" you asked him, shooting Joel a look of surprise. He shrugged and popped another one in his mouth before patting the bed next to him.
"They're my weakness."
You giggled and practically jumped back into bed, your hair dripping from your shower and the soft, white robe caressing your still highly sensitive skin.
"Do you share?" you asked him with a suggestive tone in your voice. He quirked an eyebrow at you before feeding you a fry.
"Food? Yes."
You chewed and hummed as you leaned into his shoulder, eyes drifting to the television. You furrowed your brow as you tried to figure out the movie, but his hand around your shoulder distracted you when he tugged on the soft cotton.
"Women? No," he added before dipping his other hand past the collar, cupping your breast still concealed by the robe. You inhaled sharply, your spine automatically twisting to cater to him, to give him easier access to your body like it was its only function. You wrapped your arms around the back of his neck as he pushed you down into the mattress, movie long forgotten. When he began to suck on your neck, your lips still off limits, you groaned and gave his shoulder a playful shove.
"Look at how many marks you already left on me," you pouted, tugging open your robe with one hand so he could see.
He pulled back so he could admire his handiwork before giving you a sly grin.
"Good," he said before resuming his work on your throat. And if you didn't fucking love it so much, you might have protested a bit more but instead, you craned your neck to give him better access. You sighed and felt your body relax under him, cunt already softening and preparing to take him again when your gaze fell on the clock beside his bed.
"Oh, shit! Joel! It's almost ten!" you exclaimed, tapping on his shoulder to snap him out of his lust filled haze.
"So?"
"So?" you repeated incredulously. "What about work?"
"What 'bout it?" he mumbled, hips digging into the apex of your thighs.
"Don't you have a company to run?"
Joel scoffed against your neck and finally pulled away. He pressed his weight into his forearms, which bracketed your head, and kissed the tip of your nose.
"I'm the boss. Think I can do what I want."
He was skipping work for you? Your heart practically leapt out of your chest and into the palm of his hand. You had to fight back the huge smile that pulled at your face for fear of reopening the cut on your lip, but the way your face went hot and your eyes shyly dropped from his was enough to show how happy you were.
He grinned and leaned back down to graze his teeth along your jaw. As far as either of you were concerned, nothing could touch you in the safety of his room. In your minds, the repercussions of the day before were a problem for another time.
"Well, what do you want to do, then?" you teased, gasping when you felt his already hard cock nudge against the inside of your thigh.
"You," he answered gruffly, then as fast as lightening, his hand flicked open your robe to expose yourself to him.
"Christ, you're perfect," he groaned before descending on your nipple, his teeth pinching at the sensitive bud ever so slightly while you whimpered and writhed under him.
His phone vibrated in the sheets next to you, but he ignored it.
"Joel," you breathed, blinking fast to clear your hazy vision. "Joel, your phone."
He groaned and begrudgingly released your breast but remained on top of you as he fished around for his phone.
"Gotta tell Jeff to fuck off, then -"
He paused as he stared at the screen, the blood draining from his face.
Fear shot through you and you scrambled to sit up.
"What is it?"
He swallowed the lump in his throat as he reread whatever popped up on his screen before dragging his eyes away to look at you.
"It's Glenn. He's in the lobby."
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sweet-as-an-angel · 1 year
Text
Miguel Having A Crush On You Would Include…
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Warnings: Implications of Smut, Obsessive Miguel, Possessive Miguel, Implied Yandere Miguel, Miguel in Love, Vampire Marking, Marking (Kind Of), Fluff, Typical Crush Behaviour, Petnames/Nicknames, No Pronouns used for Reader Except ‘You’.
Him being absolutely OBSESSED with you.
Literally completely feral, down bad, infatuated, etc.
Initially, when he realised he’d started liking you in a romantic sense, he tried pushing you away; tried drowning his feelings in work, missions, Hell – even resolving petty spats between the Spiderpeople at the base. Anything to exorcise this rising feeling of butterflies in his chest whenever you were around. Vulnerability.
However, you were persistent.
You’d bring him lunch whenever you knew it would be a long day in the office for him, telling him that “Even the best superhero needs a sandwich every now and then!”
And by God were your sandwiches phenomenal.
Though he’d never admit it, his heart would skip a beat whenever the door to his office opened, knowing that it could be you paying him a visit with your delectable lunchables, or even just to check in on him. Make him feel special in ways nobody else had or could in years.
Eventually, this turned into a daily affair; one Miguel would watch the clock for, wait for. Long for.
Miguel also tried hiding his feelings when you brought him hand-crafted, love-filled desserts that he just couldn’t bring himself to ignore or throw away. Or, when Miles offered to take them off his hands, let anyone else have.
Eventually, there isn’t a day that goes by where you aren’t with him in some capacity. And it shows.
Whenever you’re late, even only by a few minutes, Miguel can feel his heart spike, asking Lyla where you are, if she can track you, etc.
“Sounds like you liiiike (Y/N)~” Lyla gives Miguel a knowing smile.
Miguel just grunts, ignores her. Though, he can feel the corners of his lips turning up, and hides them behind a well-placed hand, rubbing his temples.
Soft glances whenever you’re in the room, all his attention turning to you and you alone.
He just loves to stare at you. You’re so beautiful that he can’t understand why nobody else passing you has to stitch their dropped jaw back onto their face.
Then again, he is grateful. The fury that bubbles inside him whenever he catches someone glancing at you, gaze lustful, is all-consuming, enough to make his teeth grind, his eyes bleed a light rouge hue, piercing. He makes sure they’ll never cross paths with you again.
Gradually, your warmth and kindness thaws his walls, and, once the floodgates are open, neither you nor he can predict the dark ocean that is to flood your lives.
He doesn’t mean to throw himself full-force into his feelings, but after being so guarded for so long, he just can’t help it.
Becomes overly-concerned with every facet of your life. More so than he already was.
Constantly trying to find out information about you, though being stumped as to how to do so without arousing your suspicion.
Asks Lyla to track you, see what you’re doing, who you’re with, their relation to you.
However, she begins to deny Miguel such luxuries, telling him to “Grow a pair and ask (Y/N) yourself!”
When he realises Lyla is steadfast in her resolve, he does so. Reluctantly.
Though, once he starts, he finds it difficult to stop.
“Where are you going after work?”, “Are you going out tonight with anyone?”, “Who?”
Eventually, you just look up at him, seemingly oblivious to his growing desperation, and say: “Gosh, Miguel, you’re starting to sound like you’re my boyfriend or something!”
His heart stops. His throat dries and he just looks at you, eyes wide.
One second passes. Then two. Then–
“Oh– uh– yeah... I mean, not that that’s weird, right? Unless you think it is weird, then–”
Lyla has to step in and save him from himself, telling him he has ‘urgent business’ in one of the other wings of the facility.
His suit suddenly feels too tight and too hot beneath the collar whenever he has to speak with you alone.
And tight in…other places when his mind wanders to the more intimate aspects of your hypothetical relationship.
Miguel likes to rationalise this as him preparing how best to please you when the time, inevitably, comes for him to claim you, make you his. At least, this staves off the post-nut clarity (guilt) just a little longer when he’s pursuing a release, blasphemous images of you running through his mind.
A good example of this occurs almost nightly, with Miguel thoroughly loving a pillow clad in a shirt he’d lent you once, your scent still woven, though faded, into the fabric.
Many nights, his face is pressed to the cotton of that shirt, muffling his lips and his moans as his teeth sink into your temporary body, extending, marking, hand moving fervently beneath the bed sheets, your name the chant of many a spell of ardour.
You might mistake that red glow on his cheeks for the illumination of the console screens, but anyone who looks close enough knows better.
He loves showing you around the facility. Especially when your eyes light up and you remark how intelligent he is for “Doing this all on your own,”
Any compliment from you makes his heart thrum and his cheeks burn with the urge to smile. And, if it’s only you in his company, he does so.
Maybe even give you a nervous laugh.
You’re the only one he feels comfortable with showing emotion to.
He hopes that his displays aren’t lost on you; that you know him well enough to know that every smile, every laugh, is for you and you only.
And he is determined to, one day, make that smile of yours for him. And only him.
But, for now, he will content himself with daydreams and night ventures into territory not yet known, all the while possessing a seat beside you, being a shoulder for you to cry on, an ear into which you may pour your worries, a hero on whom you can always depend in ways you can’t even begin to imagine.
Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)
Masterlist Masterpost
Yandere Masterlist Juicy Original Content <3
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wonderwomanfantasy · 1 year
Note
okay but imagine a jealous Miguel who's been absolutely obsessed with you but was to scared to say anything. One day he comes over to your house to tell you how he feels about you but he notices you're wearing an old hoodie from your ex(who you obviously don't care about because you've been madly in love with mig) and he just goes feral and rips it off you, he says sm nasty possessive shit while he fucks you in full nelson✋ I'm sorry I've just had brain rot over this man and saw your asks abt him
oh baby I'm obsessed. this is nasty so it's going under the cut ^^
Miguel is 100% the type of guy who will refuse to admit he has feelings for you while everyone else knows. Yeah, he brings you coffee almost every morning, it is not to see you smile he just uh… made extra? He likes it when you rely on him, he likes being your hero even if he’s just buying you pads. He’s touchy too, when he passes behind you he puts his hand on your lower back even if he has plenty of room, or wraps his arm around your waist while the two of you are in a crowded place together so he doesn’t lose you. God speaking of crowded places if the two of you are ever in a loud place trying to talk he’ll lean in close so he can hear you speak and if his proximity makes you flustered, all the better.
 Miguel knows deep in his heart that it’s wrong how jealous gets, and realistically if you two were just dating he’d be able to just chill the fuck out but since you aren’t he can’t help but worry that someone else will catch your eye while he’s busy working out how he feels for you and wondering if he’s selfish enough to pull you into his dangerous world like that. The realization that you’re already in too deep makes his stomach churn. Even if you’re not dating you’re easily the person he’s closest to, everyone in the multiverse knows about his weak spot for you… if there's danger you’re already in it, if he really loved you he wouldn’t just keep you at arm's length, he’d cut you out of his life completely.
It’s a surprise when Miguel stops by. You’ve told him a thousand times that your home is open to him anytime but he always at least calls beforehand. Not this time. You can tell right away that something is off, he doesn’t hug you when he comes in and he’s got this weird look on his face like something eating at him but he won’t say what's up.
Miguel really did come over with intentions to tell you that he can’t spend time with you anymore, that it was too risky and too painful… then he sees the goddamn hoodie you’re wearing. And he recognizes it. He knows in that moment that he isn’t going to leave you, he isn’t going to let you go and let some other man have you. You are his, in this universe and in every other. 
“Is that your ex’s?” you’re a little tripped up by the suddenness of the question, and before you can answer it he’s looming over you, one of his clawed fingers hooked in the collar of the garment.
“Are you thinking about him again or what?” Miguel demands of you and really he doesn’t even care to hear the answer. “I could treat you better, why don’t you fill your pretty little head with thoughts of only me?” as if at that moment you could think of anything else. Not with his pretty eyes looking at you like that. Not with his big sharp fangs biting and ripping your clothes off of you. All you can think about is him. 
You’ve never been scared of Miguel, not the way other people were, but at that moment when you see the hungry look in his eyes all you can think is “god he’s going to eat me alive” and it sends a shiver down your spine. 
He carries you like you weigh nothing to him. And honestly, you’ve seen this man bench press a minivan, you probably don’t weigh anything to him. Miguel holds you in front of a mirror and makes you watch as he presses his big dick into you and uses your body like a fleshlight.
“See that? See how good you take me?” he whispers into your ear “You’re mine now, no one else gets to fuck you, no one else gets to hear the sweet noises you make, just me.” he says while bitting your neck
He has your legs over his arms and he really is just bouncing you up and down on his dick, he pushes your head down and makes you watch as he pushes into you for the first time before he pulls your head back to look at yourself in the mirror. 
“Wanted to fuck you like this for so long, now that I’ve got you here I don’t think I’m ever going to stop,”
And he doesn’t stop. Not until a mix of his cum and yours is dripping down his thighs and your legs are twitching. When he finally pulls out he scolds you for not keeping his cum inside of you and pushes the mess back into you with his fingers. 
He asks if you feel empty without him nine inches deep in you (you do) he asks if any other cock could ever make you feel full again (not likely) he asks if you’ll forgive him for being so rough with you, and if you’ll let him do it again.
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diejager · 11 months
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I loved your hybrid bunny reader:) like imagine any cod characters with Feral! hybrid wolf reader that they found on a mission or something. I don’t really care where it goes from there
(Just deleted it if your not interested)
Wolfie
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Pairing: CoD men x feral!Wolf!hybrid!reader
Cw: uh… feral reader? Tell me if I missed any. wc: 1.8k
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It was a recon mission, scouring the area for any trap and stragglers, not a scantily-clothed hybrid with sharp ears curving backwards in aggression and the matted and dirty fur on the tail. They were searching the forested area for danger and any surprises, but they hadn’t expected to pick up a stray, a feral wolf huddled into the darkness of a tree’s roots, growling at them from your little hideout between the roots in the pit you dug yourself.
Soap was the first to take the initiative, crouching down to your home, showing you his empty hands and whispering comforting promises to your growling and shaking figure. He slowly approached you, a smile spread wide on his face despite the increasingly loud growls and the raised hair on your ears and tail. His soft smile and comforting hand coaxed you out of your hideout, crawling out on your hands and knees, palms bloodied and crusted with calluses and knees hard with throbbing and irritated skin.
Although you seemed more approachable, Gaz did so from the side, his gentler and more logical thinking had him act more hesitantly towards you, a bit more cautious and fearing that he’d scare you away or make you act out if you were spooked. He’d seen a few hybrids in the past, getting to know some quips and behaviours of a hybrid. He has a bag of peanuts, showing you the unopened packet of salted nuts for you to eat, to which you perked up with curiosity. Gaz’s smile grew much wider when your shaky hands took his gift, sharp claws ripping a hole into the plastic to grab a peanut.
From then on, they kept you, ushering you to their temporary base and having you washed from all the dirt and soot that stuck on you from your days in the wilderness, lost, alone and afraid. They took you in, watching over you with a guarded and protective hold. You moved when they moved, joining them on every flight if they were going to use a temporary base until you were trained in combat and tactics to join them in the field. Ghost personally saw to your training, being hands-on and attentive with you, hands holding you or moving you into the right position or giving you cues.
When you’re qualified enough, Price gave you a proud ruffle, messing up your while he smiled pridefully at your accomplishment. He let you cuddle up with him that night, nose pressing against the skin under his jaw with soft crooning from your throat, bathing him in your scent before you went to the others. It was a ritual you often did every few days, snuggling against them and scenting them.
Gaz in the morning, after breakfast and before he went to do his drill. Soap after the drills and fresh out of the shower, cuddling up to him in the Task Force’s rec room. Ghost in the afternoon, when the place was calmer and him, less stressed and tense from the day's work, tiredly working on some paperwork while you snuggled up to him. Finally, Price when he went to sleep, his bed became your bed during these nights.
You meet Alejandro and Rodolfo on another Joint Task Force Op in Mexico to bust a trafficking ring led by the cartel and supported by many international groups around the world, whom you’ll have to take down one by one in their times. You were tasked with tracking the trafficked people rather than having any K9s, your nose and mind sharper than any dog could be, trained and skillful as well.
You were on edge when you first landed, shoulders squared and head held high, posturing your possession of your team. They stared at you, confused with your sudden change of attitude, from relaxed and grinning to aggressive and protective, until they saw a few dog hybrids and cat hybrids running around. You could smell them from the moment you landed, most were domesticated animals, but there were a few ocelots, jaguars, coyotes and pumas, yet no wolves.
Rudy was openly praising you, welcoming you the moment they saw you pop out behind the men. He thought you were a dog, maybe a husky, so when you snarled at him for touching your ears, he backed away, shocked, but not offended. Price explained that you were a wolf hybrid, coat thicker and courser than the soft fur of a husky, but it could become softer after a shower with conditioner on your tail and ears. Ultimately, you let him pet and touch you after he won your respect, trusting him enough to let your guard down and doze off beside him. Maybe you’d scent him one day, adding him to your pack, he’d like that.
Alejandro’s professionalism kept him at a distance, restraining his excitement and giddiness of meeting the 141’s hybrid, their first one. Unlike Rudy, whose rank was closer to yours, Alejandro had to keep in mind that he was a colonel from a foreign military and a stranger to you. He waited until the first expedition, watching the men depend on your cognitive abilities. You were sharper than the dog or coyote hybrids the Los Vaqueros had, you stalked like a wolf, you hunted, acted and killed like one, fast and ruthless. He could outwardly say that he admired your skills, and how well taught you were (to which you smiled and stuck to Ghost, showing Alejandro that Ghost had been the one to train you). 
By the time the Op in Mexico came to term, you felt dejected at leaving, head lowered and ears pointing downward, you were pouting up until you were strapped down, lips pulled in a frown and teary puppy eyes. Alejandro kissed your calloused knuckles and Rudy brought you in his arms, embracing you, they let you scent them one last time before you left, promising that it wouldn't be the last time you see them.
In an unfortunate - or fortunate - turn of events, SpecGru and KorTac had the same objective, meeting up to form a temporary alliance between both PMCs. Unlike your PMC, KorTac was actively recruiting hybrids for their skill set and abilities, so you clashed a lot with the allied hybrids. You clashed with Roze and Horangi a few times, growling at the cougar and tiger hybrid. You outwardly showed your distrust and aggression towards them, wanting to protect your pack even though you knew they were your allies, you just couldn’t ignore your instincts. Even König, the giant bear hybrid, wasn’t free of your aggression, it was laughable to see the smaller wolf hybrid bare their teeth at the giant bear hybrid - a Kodiak bear. 
Ghost would scruff you, holding you back from jumping at them (although he wanted to let you tear through them) until you calmed down, and when you did, seeing past your aggression and protective mindset, you were great company. The Kodiak bear was a ball of anxiety compared to your more sociable character, nearly flinching back when you popped out beside him, smile wide and friendly as he blinked through his shock. He’s the first you befriend, having a lot in common with your sharp senses and predatory needs, seemingly feral rather than calm like the feline predators in KorTac. You were even tempted to ask König to be a part of your pack, wanting to snuggle up with him and co-scent, letting him drown you in his musk and him in your softer pheromones. 
Horangi was a bit harder to approach, his demeanour much too different from yours, but he tolerated you until he didn’t have a choice but to like you with how often König spoke about you and how much he smelled like you. You were a bit too rambunctious and feral for him, but he managed, letting you sit next to him while he cleaned his guns, head tilted to the side and staring at him like a curious pup would. If he forgot the times you shot and growled at him, he found you adorable, from your little shows of possessiveness to your feral aggression when you ripped into an enemy. He wouldn’t let you scent him like König did, but he wasn’t against the idea of scenting you, marking you as his property.
Even the solitary Roze and Mace warmed up to you, watching you run around the base doing something because you couldn’t sit still and do nothing, you had to be in movement and busy, but still stalking and observant, it helped you stay alive in the wilderness. She would flash a smirk your way when you did something that demanded her approval, whispering with Callisto - a posh cat, feline in her manners - about your job well done. “Comme un petit chiot,” the Frenchwoman would laugh. 
Mace reminded you of Ghost with his metallic skull strapped to his face, something that eased you into liking him, but he was human, unlike the many hybrids you often sparred with. He didn’t have a nose that could smell you from a distance or ears that could hear you stalk behind him, Mace was much easier to get to know than any enemy hybrids. No silent rivalry or competition for dominance between predators, he was simply human and more understanding. 
Working alongside other hybrids was something you had to learn, to hold good communication and trust, good thing wolves were sociable and pack animals. It was a learning experience for you, with Horangi teaching you how to control your ferality, to be calmer and less reckless, and with König mentoring you into using your wildness to hunt better, similarly to how he bulldozes into the enemies and ambushing them with a violent entrance. It was a surprise to see you as dejected to see them leave as you did with Los Vaqueros, fated to go back to being rivals until the time called for another allegiance.   
Extra: 
Nikolai had brought someone from the disbanded armistice back to work with the Task Force, a chaotic and violent man exiled from the KSK. Sebastian Krueger was a man who could and would create chaos and laugh while he did, but he was also rational and intuitive. In other words, Krueger was a menace to society and a perfect match for you. He greeted you like an owner would greet his dog, ruffling you and cooing at you with praises and affection. He was unaffected by your growling and biting, welcoming it with a boisterous laugh while he loomed over you with a veiled face and wide shoulders. 
You’d mistake him for a bear hybrid if you didn’t know any better. With his strong build and violent attitude, he could’ve been a grizzly, but no, he was a human with a grizzly’s behaviour. He was rough on the edge and caring at heart, much like König, but he wasn’t socially crippled, Krueger was a solitary person, preferring his solitude and quietness. That, however, doesn’t stop him from whisking you away to his side, a large hand on your thigh to keep you next to him and manhandling you as he pleased to nuzzle and bite like a chew toy. 
Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @havoc973
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toxicanonymity · 8 months
Text
being bad and looking good.
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2.8k, raider!Joel (dark) x f!reader | Raider Master SUMMARY: You look hot but get punished for acting up. WARNINGS: I8+ dubcon unsafe P in V, possessive Joel, creampie, manhandling, angst, joel makes you cry, rough, spanking, choking. He's a bad guy, not a kink practitioner: no rules. He cares, and you enjoy the dique, but you're captive. A/N: HYPOTHETICAL because I didn't want to figure out where to place it in the timeline. Set vaguely in the past. This is for a lingerie ask as well as readers who have requested feral/mad Joel or sweet pea being bad. @javier-penas-wifexx420 @arcanefox207 IMMERSABILITY: Reader has hair that can be held/pulled. Joel can lift reader. Reader has no height/size, so fill in the blanks for whether he has to bend his knees to enter you, etc.
Joel lets it slip how close the abandoned mall is, and you can't stop thinking about going there. You want to get something for him.  He always brings you things and you never have anything to give him other than food you've foraged and flowers for the trailer. One day, you insist it would be fine with Joel if you go to the mall. You make it sound like you've discussed it. Carter is skeptical, but he feels bad for you. He finally breaks down and agrees to take you. 
When you're there, you're walking through the mall and notice Carter's head turn all the way toward a particular storefront as you walk by. You wouldn't have noticed it otherwise. He keeps the same stride, but you slow down to look.
It's a lingerie store. Most of the mannequins are bare or have clothes hanging off them, but there are huge, fading posters with women of all shapes and sizes sporting lace teddies, babydolls, bralettes, strappy garters, and the floor is littered with them. 
Carter sighs when he realizes you've stopped at the store. 
As he slowly walks back to you, scratching the back of his neck, you ask, “Do you think Joel would like it if I had something from here?” The question feels almost rhetorical, but there's that bit of insecurity, too. 
“Uh, I dunno. Sure, I guess.” Carter doesn't seem comfortable. He agrees to let you go in for just a minute to see if you find something, but you have to stay in view. And you think you do. It's a two piece with a sheer, strappy top. The bottom is more modest than a thong, but it has a slit in the crotch that makes you clench your thighs together thinking about Joel.
—-
When you get home, you put it on in the bathroom so you can look at yourself in the mirror. You think it looks good, but it's not a full-length view. And you're not quite sure if it's fitting right. How much tit is supposed to be showing? How tight should it be? You put the flannel back on, but leave it open when you come out. You feel a little more covered than you are, since the nature of the fabric shows a lot. 
Carter's sitting at the kitchen table casually shuffling a deck of cards.  He looks at you for only a split second before his face hardens, and he abruptly looks away. “Jesus,” he drops the cards on the table, and the chair groans against the floor as he stands up. “The hell are ya doin’?” he awkwardly turns around, pulling up on his pants a little. 
“I just wanna know if it looks-”
“--'m sure it looks great,” Carter runs his hands through his hair in distress as he looks out the window.  Then, he tightly crosses his arms, and they stretch his sleeves even more. “Now get outta here,” he tells you. He rocks forward onto his toes, then back, waiting for you to leave. 
Is he mad? You step further into the kitchen and try to meet his eyes in the reflection. 
His voice is stern. “Go put some goddamn clothes on.” 
“Sorry, I wasn't–”
“Now.” He means it. You stand there stunned for a moment with your lip quivering. He's never been angry at you before. 
“NOW.” He points toward Joel's room, veins bulging on his hand and arm. He doesn't turn around to look at you, but you see the flush from his cheeks creeping onto his neck and ears.  
You go to your room and sniffle as you button the flannel. Then you put on a pair of shorts, curl up on the bed, and cry. 
After a few minutes, there's a soft knock on the bedroom door. “Ya’okay?” 
You only sniffle, “I'm sorry,” in response. 
Carter sighs. “I shouldn'ta snapped at ya, darlin’. But ya just – can't do that, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Shit, you're a pretty girl, okay? But it ain't my business how ya look. . .in somethin’ like that.” 
“. . .I know, I wasn't thinking.”
“Now, if you're dressed and wanna play rummy, I’ll deal. . .”
You smile to yourself through your tears. 
—--
You dry your eyes and come out to the kitchen, but something in the air is different as you pull out a chair and sit down.
“Carter, please forget it,” you plead and try to get him to look at you. It feels like you broke something.
He finally makes eye contact and forces a little smile. Then he concentrates on the cards as he deals. “Two, two, three, three,” he counts the cards out loud for each of you as he deals. He finishes, and while you're studying the hand you’re dealt, it's quiet. In the corner of your eye, Carter's gaze falls to your now fully-covered chest, but he quickly pulls his eyes away and looks straight down, fidgeting with his cards. You feel awful. What if he can’t look at you the same? It was stupid to try to show him. Of course it would look good to Joel, he likes everything on (and off) you.
______
When Joel gets home, you're in the bedroom alone, sitting on the bed in the lingerie and flannel. As he enters through the kitchen, his boots are heavy on the linoleum. Your heart races with a moment of doubt - how are you going to explain this? But he bursts in the room grumbling, “goddamn Harold, tryin’ to get us all killed.”  He takes his shirt off over his back, tosses it to the laundry, and looks at you. He pauses and devours the view for a few seconds before he slowly approaches, chest heaving.
He looms over you as you sit on the bed. He uses both hands to nudge the flannel off your shoulders, and it pools behind you. You take your arms out of it. He grabs a tit and rests his other hand on the nape of your neck, thumb brushing the curve of your skull. His chest lets out a low growl as he feels you. Then his fingers trail up the strap on one shoulder. He plucks it and it snaps against your skin.
Joel’s face darkens as he asks, “Where’d it come from?” When you don’t answer fast enough, his hand traces up your throat. A chill spreads across your chest. His thumb brushes the side of your neck, then slides over to lift your chin and make you look at him. “Where.”
“I wanted to do something you’d like.”
“Where,” he repeats, then clenches his jaw, waiting. 
“You said the mall wasn’t far, so–”
He raises his voice. “You went to the mall? Where was Carter?”
“It’s okay, he was there, even found a part for the van in the parking lot.” 
Joel’s nostrils flare, and he grips your jaw. “Carter took you to the mall.” 
Your eyes water with panic. “No, it wasn’t his idea--”
“To buy somethin’ like this.” 
“I wanted to get you something. I didn’t know they had this stuff —”
“He's got no business takin’ ya anywhere. And sure as hell not somewhere sexy.”
You're worried for Carter and grateful he’s not around. “I swore the mall was okay, that you wouldn’t mind. I didn’t know there was somewhere sexy,” your voice trails off. 
Joel shakes his head, nostrils flaring. “You don't say what's okay. You don't KNOW what's okay. Get up.” 
He forces you to your feet then turns you around.
“I thought you'd like it,” you sniffle. “You always do things for me.”
“He grabs your ass, lifting your butt cheek and lets it drop. He clicks his tongue. “well, I sure don't like how ya got it.”
“I'm sorry”
“Think ya need a reminder who's in charge here.”
“I know,” you sniffle in agreement, sensing what's coming. He sits down on the bed and manhandles you into lying face down over his knees. You feel a twinge of arousal even before he shifts your position and your hip brushes the hard shape in his jeans. 
You hold your breath as he brings his hand back, then it lands with a sting and you yelp at the force. You bury your mouth in your arm as he brings his hand back again. He repeats it on the other cheek and you let out a muffled whimper that sounds more aroused than you should be. 
“Like bein’ bad?” He asks, then spanks you again. 
“No.” 
His hand lands with a sting one more time and stays on your skin to grab the plush of your burning skin. “Ya like this?”
“. . .I dunno,” you whimper, unsure of the right answer.
He feels between your legs, his thick finger finding  a damp slit in the cotton crotch of the lacy underwear. He slips a finger inside the garment, giving you a shock of need when his knuckle nudges your dripping hole.  “Ya do, don't ya? Get up.” He grabs your arm and stands up, forcing you to your feet. He holds your hair and stares you down sternly. “This ain't for fun, baby, it's your safety” He lets go of your hair and looms closer. “Understand?”
You nod and reflexively back up. Something tells you it's not just about your safety. 
“AND Carter's. You tryin' to make me hurt’m?” He asks. Joel gets closer and you keep backing up toward the wall. 
“No,” you sob. “Please don't. He’s good, so good, he wouldn't even look at me. He respects you so much”
A new rage flashes across Joel's face and he lowers his voice. “He wouldn't . . .even . . .look at ya,” he mutters too calmly for your comfort. He takes a deep breath, looks you up and down again, puts his hand on your chest, fingers spread wide, and walks you harshly into the wall. His bare chest heaves. ”But ya gave him the chance, didn't ya,” Joel nods. You've dug your hole so much deeper. 
“I was only thinking about–” Joel’s hand comes to your neck as you croak out, “--you.” You don't know what you were thinking. Joel doesn't either. He slowly shakes his head, nostrils flaring. 
He pins you with his hips, and his hard cock digs into your front, making you gush.  
“Forget who ya belong to?”
“No,” you whimper. “I’m yours.”
He pulls his hips back and quickly unfastens his pants. You bite your lip to keep from moaning at the sight of his cock. It nudges under the bottom hem of the lingerie top to reach your body. You feel his skin hit your lower belly, and it makes you weak with desire. “Only wanna be yours.”
He kicks your feet apart to spread your legs, and he brings his lips to your hair. “Then ya do what I say. Understand?” 
“Yes sir,” you whisper, then he shoves his hand between your legs, using two fingers to spread the slit in the fabric of the crotch. 
“‘s’for your own good,” he adds. 
He nudges the slit with his cockhead. The fabric doesn’t open wide enough, so he rips the slit more, then you feel his tip at your wet little hole.  He holds his cock in line, then grabs your ass and shoves up into you all at once, bottoming out. The force makes your back and shoulders drag up the wall. With your feet now off the ground, your knees bend, cradling his hips. He holds you by your ass, adjusts your weight, and your back is against the wall. You balance your arms around his neck. His thick cock retreats then punches into you again. 
He's so thick, each time he pushes in, it feels like he’s taking up your whole body. He’s not looking at you; he’s looking past you. The grip of his fingers hurts enough to feel good, to feel his desperation, how much he has to have you–for him and only him. 
He grunts and growls and breathes heavily, stomach heaving against you. “You're mine, sweet pea.”
“I am,” you agree. 
“No one else can have ya.” His words get broken with the force of his thrusts.  “No one else can see ya.”
“I know.”
You moan as he buries his length in you roughly, and he mutters “goddamn,” tightening his grip on your ass. You’re overwhelmed by the fullness of his cock, his skin against yours, his breath in your hair, his body pinning you there. All of it makes your insides swell with mounting pleasure. 
“I love being yours,” you pant. 
He fucks you in relative silence for about two minutes, the room filled only with the sounds of his brutish grunts and unbridled sighs, your little moans and whimpers, and the squelch of his stiff cock pumping in and out of your dripping cunt.
He adjusts your weight and looks down at your body from time to time, letting your upper back rest against the wall as he rails into you. You’re reassured that he likes the fit, at least. Your legs wrap loosely around him. 
The pressure in your lower belly builds with each grunt, each thrust of his cock. Soon, his breath becomes shaky and the drag of his cock quickens. Then he bottoms out sharply with a groan, drawing a sigh from you as he begins to pulse. He thrusts into you slower, more controlled, and you rock slowly against the wall. The rhythmic swell of his shaft within your walls and the warm seed spilling from his tip make you clench around him. You moan his name, tighten your legs, and he sighs as your cunt chokes his cock. 
When his balls are empty, he slides out, and the fabric pulls with his cock as he withdraws and lets you down to the floor.
—-
Joel sighs, crams his wet cock into his pants, and fastens them again.
“You okay?” He asks, catching his breath. 
“Yeah,” you mutter. “Where are you going?”
“Gonna pay Carter a visit, down at the house.”
“Please, Joel, it was all my fault,” you beg. “Don’t do it.” 
“Ain’t gonna kill’m. This time.” You still don’t like the look on his face. 
You follow him across the room, reach for his arm, and your fingers land lightly on his inner elbow. He pauses, still without his shirt on, and looks down at your hand on his elbow. He turns around, reads your face, then goes over to the bed without a word. He sits and manspreads.  “I was desperate to make you happy,” you plead, fidgeting with the hem of your top.
Joel scrunches his face. “Ya do make me happy, sweet pea.”
“He didn't even wanna take me,” you insist.
“Then he’s gotta learn to say no.” 
You hesitantly come closer, unsure if he’ll turn you away, but he lets you between his legs, then you sit on his thigh and keep fidgeting with the hem of your top. 
“He says no all the time,” you assure Joel. 
“Does he,” Joel mutters skeptically.
“I made it like he would've been saying no to you.” 
Joel shakes his head, looking at your mouth. ��That ain't right, but he knows better, baby.” 
“He yelled at me,” you offer, hoping it doesn't make things worse.
Joel's brow furrows and his tone sharpens. “Ya gotta stop lyin’, now. It's pissin’ me off.”
“I'm not! He was mad.”
“Oh yeah? What'd he yell?” 
“Told me to go away and put on some clothes.” 
Joel’s chin lifts to look at the ceiling and he takes a deep breath, then looks at you. “What the hell got into ya, huh?”
“I dunno,” you mumble. “Feel like I'm going crazy, stuck here all day.” Joel looks at you. “But you take good care of me,” you clarify, “and I love it here.” 
But that’s not what Joel’s thinking about. 
“Wanna fuck him? Suck his dick?”
“No!” You're on the verge of tears again. “God, Joel, please don't talk like that.” Your face is scrunched up in pain. 
“Then don't act like it.”
“I was–okay, I get it.”
Joel is quiet for a few seconds, then asks, “What if I told ya to suck his dick?” 
“No!”
“You'd say no to me?” 
“I’d ask if I really have to.” 
Joel's face slowly softens, like you found the only acceptable answer. “And why’s that?”
“Cause I only want yours.” 
“Hm,” Joel nods. 
“Please, Joel. Stay here, don't go to him. . .you can talk to him tomorrow.”
You put your arms around Joel's neck and study his pensive face. Then you bury your head in his neck and whisper “Sorry.”  His hand slowly comes to your back. You dip your head and lightly brush your lips against his collar bone, then return your face under his jaw, and he nestles his head over yours. Your wet lashes blink against his skin, and his hand slowly slides on your back. Somehow, it feels like more comfort than you deserve. 
“Ok, baby,” he whispers and wraps both arms around you.
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if you wanna know whether Carter sees sweet pea that way, check out he's only human.
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Their present-day story will continue, but I don't have an ETA, sorry. Unless the next one gets split up, it'll have fluff, two moods of smut, angst.
I appreciate all your comments that let me know what you enjoy and what curiosities you have. Thank you so much for reading, and thanks for your support. Love you all.
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astarionancuntnin · 6 months
Text
Meet Me In The Woods
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summary: it's astarion's turn to keep watch for the night. everyone's off to bed and he's still gone hunting and nowhere to be seen. you refuse to be the one to fill in for him again, so you venture into the woods looking for where he was last seen.
rating: E
word count: 2.9k
pairing: astarion x you (fem!reader, sorceress if you even care)
cw: 18+. smut, porn with no plot, feral astarion, fingering, teasing, slight knife play, forest sex, reader is tied up, rough sex, possessive sex (if you squint), vampire bites, blood drinking, PiV, primal play, praise kink (would it really be an astarion fic otherwise?), creampie, soft ending.
a/n: so this started out as a second chapter to my last fic and uh. well, youre here now, you know as well as i do that this aint chapter 2 BUT rest easy, im ALSO working on that. i do not control the goblin in my brain whos thirsting over astarion. ENJOY
read on ao3
or keep reading down below, ya freak (you and me both bestie)
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If you could only see the beast you've made of me
I held it in but now it seems you've set it running free
The saints can't help me now, the ropes have been unbound
I hunt for you with bloodied feet across the hallowed ground
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After an exhausting day spent fighting battle after battle, your friends and you spend some time relaxing around the campfire. You chat for a good hour before some of your companions start heading to bed, and that’s when you notice one of them is missing. 
Astarion. 
He had a habit of going hunting most nights to get his fill, which was necessary since you didn't always let him have his way with you, but tonight, he was taking  longer than usual. Everyone else tried to reassure you that he was fully capable of handling his own, but you couldn’t help but have a bad feeling about it ; your intuition was rarely wrong. And so, you ventured into the woods looking for him.
The woods were especially dark at this hour of the night, even with your flame cantrip in hand, there wasn’t much you could see around you. You had never taken a walk alone this late, and there was something about the sounds of the forest that made you uneasy. You were only getting further from the camp and any chance for your call for help to be heard, if need be, was getting smaller. The rustling of leaves and wood cracking near you drains you of any courage you had left.
You turn around to look at the direction you’re sure the sound was coming from and see nothing, only to turn back around and be face to face with Astarion.
“GODS, Fuck!” you jump, losing your flame in the process, startled at his sudden presence. You allow yourself to take a few breaths, dropping your hands to your knees to get a hold of yourself, before questioning him. “What is wrong with you?!”, you glare at him.
You breathe out deeply one last time before getting back up to eye level with him, still waiting for an answer from him. The moonlight shines almost perfectly over him, allowing you to forget about your flame for the time being. There’s something off about him though, but you can’t quite put your finger on it. He speaks up only to ask you a question himself.
“What are you doing here?” His voice is husky, very different from his usually high-pitched tone, you notice. He’s eying you hungrily and his stance is rigid.
“What do you mean? Do you know how long you’ve been gone for? I was–” you stop yourself before finishing. He just pissed you off, you weren’t just going to admit that you cared for the pretentious prick. “We were wondering if you were fine.”
“Worried about me, dear?” His lidded eyes pierce through you, as his hand moves to hold your chin between his thumb and finger, his face nearing yours.
You’re lucky the dim light of the moon isn’t enough for him to see the blush creeping over your cheeks. You scoff and push his hand aside before backing away, trying to conceal your flushed state. “I’m not worried about you, you have the first round for watch duty tonight and I was making sure you would be back on time, so I don’t need to cover for you again.” 
“Of course, darling,” he says, with a skeptical tone.
You quickly come to the realization that this was a waste of time. He didn't deserve your energy, or care, and you should’ve never come looking for him in the first place, “Well, alright, I’ll leave you to it then, just– don’t take too long.”
As you turn around to leave, he makes his way right back in front of you, surprisingly fast, stopping you in your tracks, “Hold on, little love. You’re not just going to leave me hanging like this, are you?” He tilts his head, his eyes watching your every move.
“What? No I– I came to check up on you, and clearly you’re fine, so I’m going back to the camp now and I'll keep watch in the meantime, you just take the time you need to finish hunting.” You try to move past him only for him to raise his hand insistently, blocking you again.
“Oh, but I think I’m done now.”
Your breathing stops momentarily and your eyes squint, “I’m… not sure I follow.”
“Well,” he steps forward, making you step back in return, “I was hunting, rather successfully, might I add,” he keeps getting closer to you and you almost trip over a branch at your feet as you back away, “Until an inconsiderate, little sorceress made her way into this very forest, quite loudly,” you back up against a tree as he towers over you. “So you can imagine my dismay when all my other potential prey made a run for it,” he lifts your chin to meet his gaze again. “All, except for one.”
Your heartbeat quickens and your entire body freezes. Your eyes flicker in fear and you feel a shiver go through your spine. It takes everything in you to mumble the next few words, “Listen, I– I’m really sorry I made your meal run away, okay? You can feed on me tonight.”
He chuckles menacingly, “That was implied, my sweet.”
You feel your legs shake in anticipation and a warmth blossoming in your stomach. You’re… looking forward to this?
Your intuition is telling you that you're in danger and yet you remain still. Shouldn’t you be making a run for it? The camp is not that far away, if you just managed to slip past him…
As if he read your mind, Astarion takes a hold of your waist with one hand to pin you to the tree you were back against, restraining you under him, “You’re not going anywhere, pet, ” he growls, before crashing his lips against yours.
The kiss takes you by surprise and you instinctively moan in his mouth. It’s rough and hungry, with his tongue looking for yours, probing your mouth, tasting everything you have to offer, leaving you breathless. A part of you wanted to touch him, get a hold of his luscious curls, pull him in closer, but as if you were under a spell, you remained paralyzed, your hands holding back against the very tree he was pushing you against.
If any part of you wanted to run before, it’s all gone now. If he was going to drink you dry tonight, you would greet death’s embrace with open arms. 
It’s nothing a scroll of revivify couldn’t fix, right?
As the kiss deepens, you feel his body pushing against yours and his hips bucking forward, his already-hard bulge rubbing you both through your clothing, making him groan in your mouth. The motion turns you into a mess, your underwear getting drenched from your arousal. His fang nicks your bottom lip and you whimper in pain as he sucks on it, getting a taste of your blood. He pulls back from you to eye you down and you can see the dangerous lust in his eyes. His hand leaves your face to grab a hold of his trusty knife that he raises to your neck. You lift your face up, trying to pull away from the weapon as he trails the tip along the side of your jawline softly, leaving goosebumps in its wake. The adrenaline is coursing through your veins and it’s like he can taste it in your blood left on his lips, see how your breath quickens and sense your blood pumping furiously, fearing what he might do to you.
“Please– you don’t need to do this, think of what the others will say if I don’t come back to camp,” you plead.
“You need not worry, my dear,” he lowers his knife down your belly and slides it under your shirt, ripping the fabric apart inch by inch as he brings it back up to your chest, exposing your warm, soft skin to the cool night air.  “I plan on taking very good care of you,” he whispers, in the hollow of your neck.
He carelessly drops his knife on the ground next to you and gently caresses your skin, making his way up to your breasts. You close your eyes and sigh, letting yourself get lost in his touch.
“Gods, you’re so beautiful,” he sighs in your ear. “It really isn’t fair that I don’t get you all to myself every night.” He leaves a trail of kisses from your ear to your shoulder, leaving playful bites around your neck, while his hands roughly massage your tits and give them the occasional pinch that makes you whine. The fear you previously felt leaves place for arousal, pooling at your core. You want more, you need more. You need him.
You push yourself against his touch and rub your aching cunt over his leg, “My, my, is my little pet hungry, too?” He removes your pants in one swift move and his hand wanders down, sliding between your legs.
“ Ah–!”, finally your reflexes kick in and you raise a hand to your mouth to muffle your screams. Just as quickly, Astarion takes your hand away and pins it above your head.
“Tutut,” he purrs, “I want to hear every sweet noise you will make for me.”
His fingers make their way inside you and he picks up a painfully slow rhythm. Each thrust makes you lose yourself even more and earns him a moan out of you. You simply melt under his touch. He thrusts once more, deeper, only to remove himself entirely.
“No! Astarion please–” you start begging him, wiggling under him as he still firmly holds you in place. The loss of his touch is simply unbearable.
“Please what? ”, he hums, sucking on his fingers to taste your juices.
“Please, please touch me, take me, I need to feel you, I– ah!,” you cry out as he nibbles on your nipple.
“I’m terribly sorry little love, it’s awfully unlike me to play with my food,” he coos, wearing a malicious smile.
You groan in frustration. He was toying with you and you felt yourself grow impatient at this game. You try to fight your way out of his grasp with your free hand only for him to grab it and pin it next to the other one.
“Mh, I have a few ideas,” he takes a hold of both your wrists with one hand and reaches into his back pocket to pull out a bundle of rope. “I might finally get a use out of this damned thing.”
“Well, I can’t have you wiggling like that, can I?”
“What are you gonna do about it?”, your own audacity surprises you.
He gracefully ties your wrists together above your head and with a strong push, throws the rope around the tree, and secures the tie around your hands. You try again to free yourself, unsuccessfully wriggling out of your bounds, before you sigh in resignation.
“There, you look perfect. My little treat on display,” he takes a step back to admire his handiwork. 
He’s simply too far and you need to feel his skin against yours. If he wasn't gonna touch you, you would touch yourself. You remember how his fingers felt inside you and you start rubbing your thighs together subconsciously, trying to ease the ache throbbing between your legs. You feel yourself dripping along your leg from excitement when you see him undo his belt.
“Do you think you’re ready for me, my sweet?”, he lets his trousers fall on the forest floor before stepping out of them, freeing his already-leaking cock.
“Gods yes,” you lack any self restraint anymore, your pride be damned. Any coherent thought was out of the door the moment you saw how hard he was, you could only imagine just how full he would make you feel.
“Mhm, we’ve made you wait long enough, don’t you think?” he asks, rubbing his length against your entrance, getting himself wet from your juices.
“Mmmhng– I– ah– I fucking swear Astarion if you don’t fuck me right now I’ll- Ahhhh!” You’re cut off by his grip on your hips lifting you up before roughly thrusting into you.
“Gods, you’re so tight,” he growls against your neck as he makes you bounce on him.
Each thrust hits you deeper in your womb, he feels so much bigger than you expected. You pull on your restraints, searching to hold on something as you throw your head back, each bounce scrapping your back against the tree you were tied to. The pain from the bark roughing up your skin mixed deliciously with Astarion’s tight grip on your hips.
With your neck now fully exposed, the vampire eagerly licks the sensitive spot on your neck in anticipation, “You have no idea how much I want to eat you whole. ”
“Do it, bite me, ” you pant. “Take everything you need.”
That's the only permission he needs to sink his sharp teeth in your pulsing vein and start drinking you up. You cry out at the initial pain ; the feeling never ceases to surprise you. The cold lingering feeling of his fangs entering your neck combined with the warmth of his cock pounding you is such a unique yet heavenly experience that soon enough, all pain you felt turns into pure pleasure. You're simply unable to speak anymore, your only form of communication left being your moans and cries for the pale elf ravaging your body.
“Oh fuck, keep making those sweet noises for me, gods- you feel so good,” he hisses, pausing his drinking to take in the feeling of your walls tightening around him.
Your blood drips from the fresh wound on your neck down to your breasts and Astarion licks the trail back up to its source, where he bites a second time to keep savoring your essence. You feel yourself losing consciousness as your vision is getting darker, and he stops drinking from you, sensing your weakness. He growls as he takes his last sip from you, ripping out his teeth from your flesh and lapping at the blood from your fresh wound, “You’re doing so good for me, little love, so so good.”
His words of praise are like a balm over your wounds, a soft embrace after the pain you went through and it strengthens the build up between your legs. He feels you clench around him and he knows he's just as close as you are, all he needs is for you to let go.
“Come for me now love,” he breathes against your ear, "let me hear you scream for me, I wanna feel you come around me.”
His last words hit you like electricity throughout your whole body. You feel yourself clench around him, enveloping his cock in the warmth of your womb. With a few last frantic strokes, Astarion releases himself inside of you, holding you tightly against him. He rides out the waves of pleasure still surrounded by your warm embrace, moaning in the crook of your neck. He embraced you strongly allowing you to come back from your high in his arms. You swear you could see stars before your eyes. The world had gone silent. Your mind went blank.
You’re brought back to reality by the vampire releasing you from his grasp, carefully dropping your legs. You’re absolutely spent. Your entire body feels heavy, if it wasn’t for the tight rope around your wrist holding you up, you would have fallen to your knees. You don’t even wanna think about the trail back to camp. If you didn’t have any ounce of decency left, you’d let yourself fall asleep in the same position he left you in. 
Astarion notices your tired eyes flicking open, fighting the urge to fall asleep right there and then. He laughs quietly at your state, feeling quite the opposite after drinking from you. He holds your face softly, lifting it up slightly to meet his eyes.
At least, you didn’t end up covering for his round this time.
“Shall I carry you back to your tent now, my sweet?”
Your nod mindlessly, as you’re too exhausted to give a better answer. He takes a moment to untie your bounds and lay you on the ground before putting his pants back on. He pulls off his shirt and puts it on you instead to cover you from the cold forest breeze. It’s the least he could do after tearing your own shirt apart. He grabs your pants that were discarded just minutes ago and swings them over his shoulder before swiftly picking you up. He carries you back to camp, where a dimly lit fire awaits you both. Thankfully, all your companions are fast asleep and you’re saved from the embarrassment of the situation. Astarion lays you down on your bedroll and pulls a blanket over you. He pulls your hair away from your face and gently strokes your cheek, before walking away and sitting around the fire. You open your eyes to see him trying to light it back up. You watch the light of the newborn fire reflect on his pale, sweaty skin, a dreamy sight that you take in before letting yourself drift off to sleep.
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emmyrosee · 1 year
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i think sakusa being like this to his cute and precious baby girl is canon. to me.
https://www.instagram.com/reel/Cpvrr18v2eh/?igshid=YzgwOTU0MGQ=
I FREAKIN HAD THIS IN MY WRITING INSPO FOLDER MATE GREAT MINDS-
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Something seemed off when you walked in.
It wasn’t like Kiyoomi to be asleep before 11, yet the entire house was dark and silent. You plant your eyes down and make your way deeper to check on the loves of your life.
Your heart jumps in your throat to see the bed of your daughter, empty except for her teddy bear and pillows. Her nightlight is off as well, and part of you is horrified something has happened to her, the other part of you knows she’s more than likely with Kiyoomi.
Regardless, you’re quick to shuffle into your bedroom and waste no time in making your way over to Kiyoomi’s side, planting a knee down and gripping his arm.
“Omi?” You whisper, shaking his shoulder lightly. He grumbles and curls closer on his side. “Omi, wake up, where’s Keina?”
“Who’s Keina?” He murmurs half asleep, though the way he’s not sprinting up in terror is plenty to tell you that she’s more than fine. You deflate in relief, glad that the dark keeps that hidden from him.
“Our two year old, Kiyoomi. Her bear is in her bed, her nightlight is off and uh, she’s not in it,” you say, trying to hide your smile. He gives another tired grunt, but his brain can’t stop you quick enough when your hand grips the sheets covering his shoulders and yanks it down, exposing the blissed little face of your child. You snort, and Kiyoomi smirks sleepily. “Kiyoomi!”
“What!”
“We agreed she’d be in her big girl bed, that’s why we bought her the big girl bed!” You scold softly, but the smile on your face doesn’t dare budge.
Kiyoomi grabs the blanket and moves it to cover them both again, “you go sleep in it if it bugs you so bad. She’s fine.”
You reel back in a playful challenge, humming in agreement when he suddenly blinks his eyes open and lets out a quick ‘im kidding, please don’t sleep in her bed.’ With a chuckle, you peel the covers back again to look at her peaceful face, and you gently run your nails over the covered slope of her spine. “She does look comfortable,” you say, gnawing at your lip. “But she needs to go to bed.”
“She is in bed,” he says, resting his chin on her head possessively. “You should be too. Get in your pj’s and come on.” In her sleep, she slowly turns towards you as if to wake up, and Kiyoomi gasps in worry before flicking the blankets back over them both. “You wake her up, I’m gonna bite you.”
“Oh are you?”
He opens his mouth to tease you more, but he’s cut off by an absolutely feral noise coming from her, his jaw slacking in shock. “Did… did she just rip one?”
“Have fun in your Dutch oven.”
You stand up to go get ready for bed, smirking to yourself when you hear kiyoomi plead for you to take the child to her own bed now.
With pleasure, you ignore him completely.
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rillian4e · 1 year
Note
Scara reacting to his s/o getting one of those womb/succubus tattoos?
Just them wearing more revealing clothes to show off the tattoo and to taunt him >.<
Scenario please!
You want it, you get it, anon
nsfw, fem!reader, degradation, sub!reader, teasing, dom!scaramouche, possessive scara, not proof read.
It was just another day where Scaramouche and you were supposed to go on a little date, you were feeling very excited as you recently got a succubus tattoo on your womb and you haven't told Scaramouche about it, wanting it to be a surprise. You purposely wore a small top which showed the tattoo perfectly off, it matched very well with the tattoo and looked adorable. As you headed out and smiled when you saw Scaramouche, you could see the slight surprise in his eyes, looking over at your stomach.
"What's this?" He asked, confused on why you got a tattoo like that, his reaction made you think he wasn't fond of the tattoo, "Do you not like it...? It's rather popular nowadays, and it looks pretty, right?" you shrugged your shoulders, smiling mischievously, you knew it looked good, a few guys had already complimented you on it after all.
"hmph, it's not my thing but whatever. Let's go already." taking your hand in his, he lead you to a shopping store, you two had already planned to go and buy some bathing suits, it has been getting hotter and that is the perfect time to go to the beach.
Despite him having acted as if he wasn't interested and didn't care, the tips of his ears were red, how could he have not liked it? He didn't think you could have gotten more attractive than you already were but this womb tattoo would be the death of him. He found tattoos attractive, and that specific tattoo on his pretty girlfriend's body? It was making him feral.
When you arrived, Scaramouche sat down in a nearby chair, telling you to go and pick some bathing suits while he waited—after picking several bathing suits, you went in the dressing room, Scaramouche coming inside with you which you found unexpected of him, he already had an excuse saying how "Why would I stay there? Too many lousy people, it's more quiet here." you just rolled your eyes at him, knowing he wanted to see you change. When you finally tried on a bathing suit, a pretty purple one which showed off the tattoo, you had purposely picked that one, the bathing suit matched the design of it, Scaramouche couldn't keep his eyes off you, he felt reluctant on whether you should wear that to the beach, he didn't want another man looking at your body, it would make his blood boil. "Does it look good? Hey, don't space out!" at your words, he was back to reality and nodded.
"Uh, yeah. Looks good, but you're either doing this intentionally or are just an idiot. Either way, I'm done with this." was what he said before he pinned you against the wall of the dressing room, his lips biting down onto your neck harshly. A leg pressed against your crotch, "You thought I didn't know, hm? Getting this tattoo just to rile me up? I guess, I shouldn't have expected any less from a whore like you." he whispered in your ear, making you shiver, yes, this is what you wanted, you were already wet from his mere words but you couldn't forget that you were in the dressing room where there were people outside! "Not here, Scara... There's people outside, what if they hear?" that was something you did not want, especially having to go and then buy the bathing suit and have the lady at the front desk look at you two weirdly... "oh my, acting so shy now? It's a shame, though. I'm not going easy on you this time." hearing his chuckle, you knew that there will be no escape from this humiliating experience.
And so, you found yourself pressed against the wall, his cock hitting against your sweet spot with your hand clamped against your mouth, you were sure someone would hear but right now, you couldn't worry about that, only thoughts of Scaramouche fucking into you inside your head. His lips fervently chasing yours, exchanging passionate, messy and wet kisses. One thing was for sure, he liked the tattoo.
After your little session, you two exited the dressing room, your hair slightly disheveled and clothes a mess with Scaramouche leading you to the register with a proud smirk on his face, the lady at the register looked at the two of you as expected but Scaramouche only shot her a glare and then you two went home where he took his sweet time enjoying you for himself.
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2cutie · 2 months
Text
A Touch Possessive
Kung Lao x Female!Reader
summary: 18 + content! Kung Lao doesn't particularly enjoy when you train with Tomas. He thinks that's a pretty fair thing to feel all things considered, and whether or not it was true outside his head was another thing. Whether it was his ego or denial, he doesn't think you'd be too upset if he comes up with a pretty little lie to steal you away.... You won't be, right?
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a/n: pretty lil thing, innit? *pats his shoulder* dimples make my brain a bit feral. also this is longgg because I was feeling very self-indulgent. (i should probs start bulleting) but enjoy sharing my sins.
Kung Lao's gaze scans the proximity of the training field, his eyes narrowing in the sun's rays. He was looking for you - of course. When was he not?
It became more of a habitual trait at this point, and he couldn't really help it. But he had a reason this time, at least.
He was just… annoyed that you were spending time away from him. Specifically with other people.
Yeah, it was totally a reason. And no, he wasn't jealous. He had this monologue in his head everyday and every time he settled on not being jealous - therefore he wasn't.
You were a champion that Lord Liu Kang had collected; Modest, sweet, kind. A quick learner. Additionally, a great fighter. So it was really nothing short of due time that Liu kang instilled your assistance in training the rest of the champions.
Lao relished in that! He would purposefully do a poor job just to feel your hands position him to a better stance. He would work harder just to strip off his shirt because he was "sweating too much". He sent Raiden a winning smirk and wink every time you fell for it. Raiden always shook his head in disapproval.
But, that delight deflated when he realized that you would be doing the same to the others as well. Your hands on Kenshi's chest? Raiden's waist?
And when you spread out Johnny's legs with your own to show him a better way to dive out of the way? You didn't actually believe Johnny needed assistance for that, did you? The actor was totally stealing his idea!
Besides, he was your boyfriend, not Johnny.
So there he was, sulking, as he searched the Wu Shi Academy for where you were.
It was after the day's training, one where you were separated to different groups. Not only did he not get to see sweat drip off you, but he didn't get to show off for you either.
Unfulfilling.
His eyes finally fell on you. You were a small distance away, conversing the shade with Tomas at your hip. Part of his mind knew you two were discussing your martial arts - after all, Tomas was most likely your instructor of the day - but the larger, more illogical part of his brain overruled that. Tomas was looking at you with those doe eyes of his after all.
He crossed over to you in record time. He called your name, purposefully interrupting the ninja mid-sentence.
You perked off the wall, looking over Tomas' shoulder upon hearing his voice. "Kung Lao?"
He stopped when was beside Tomas. Well, until he was semi-blocking assassin purposefully but not enough for it to seem on purpose. He was smart when he wanted to be. "You, uh, busy? I need your help with.." Oh, he didn't get this far. "..Something."
You blinked. "Ah." You were mildly disinterested, but who were you to deny those dimples? You turned to Tomas, who only shook his head, dismissing you. You apologized, excusing yourself to fall in step beside Kung Lao. "What's up?"
Kung Lao couldn't resist the creeping smirk on his face. He intertwines is arm in yours, pulling you closer as if to prevent you from turning around. "I kinda lost a paper this morning. You don't mind helping me, right?"
Your face scrunched, both in confusion and disbelief. "A paper?" Seriously? That's what he wanted? You turned your head around, debating about returning to Tomas. Kung Lao walked faster. "Why not just be more organized?"
"That's more of your thing. I'm more unbothered."
"So even you admit it?"
Your cheeky comment didn't go unnoticed as he glances down to you. "It's not like I'm a mess all the time, I mean… most of the time. But not all. That counts for something."
You held back several retorts to that as he guided you to his room. He released you only once you were there, opening the door to his room. He gave a nonchalant shrug and stepped inside.
Unsurprisingly, it was in disarray, but not as much as you expected from him. You eyed it over quickly. A part of you semi-hoped this cursed paper would be in the middle of the floor or somewhere in sight so you could just leave. "What paper is it exactly?"
Chinese decor was sparsely scattered, being a spare room for the monks of the academy before their arrival. There was a crest of his heritage on the wall and the desk pushed to the wall was filled with scattered papers in his messy handwriting, all in mandarin. It seemed a fair place to start.
"Training data. I think I left it somewhere around here." His eyes follow you to his desk, some sort of shallow pride swelling in his chest to have you in his shared space. He closed the door.
"Training data," you repeat, deftly shifting through the papers. "You keep track of that? I mean, that's great. I just didn't really… expect it, I guess."
He comes closer behind you, peering over your shoulder as your muse around on his desk. He feels a little offended at that, even despite it being a lie. "I always keep track of progress and achievements."
A partial lie, anyways.
You hum in response and continue to dig through his litter. You notice that he is not at all helping, but it's not much of a shocker, really. You eyed a familiar receipt in the corner of his desk. "You know.." You pick it up, holding it over your shoulder accusatory. "If you kept track of things the same way you keep tabs of this receipt with your favourite food on it, you'd be fine."
Kung Lao snatched it back. ""Hey, don't look at that! It's the only thing that makes my life worth living, so don't you dare laugh at it!" His tone was playful and exaggerated, but it was a perfect ploy for him to move closer to you.
"Ugh, you are so dramatic," you huffed, rolling your eyes. But you couldn't exactly stop the faint blush that creeped on your cheeks upon feeling the warmth emitting just behind you.
And yes, of course - of course - he noticed. He stood right behind you as you continued your fruitless search, really just keeping your mind busy. He brushed some hair off your neck to get a good look at your face. He smirked at your reaction. "I'm simply passionate about what matters to me."
Ignoring that, you pulled away from his hand and attempted to stay focused. "You could be helping."
"I know." You sent him a look over your shoulder at his dismissive tone. "But I am helping." He continues in a low tone and his arms come beside you, his palms pressed on either side of the desk, trapping you between them. Your fingers stop rummaging when you feel him press against your back. Your eyes narrow suspiciously.. "What's wrong?" He asks in feigned innocence, his lips brushing your ear. "Did I make you lose your concentration?"
"This paper doesn't exist," you state. Not a question.
You felt Kung Lao's smirk grow against your ear. He moved down to nuzzle in the crook of your neck, nodding slowly. "I know." He really couldn't even put up a lie? "I just wanted an excuse to pull you away from Tomas. He can be annoying.."
You really, really wanted to be mad at him. But his warmth, almost scorching against your back felt a little too nice and he pressed tigher to you, encasing you. You felt yourself flush. You put a hand on the desk to stabilize yourself. Focus…
"I wasn't annoyed," you attempted to argue back, keeping your tone straight. "And that's not for you to decide for me."
His right hand shifted from the table to your hip, keeping you in place. "It doesn't matter, I just don't like seeing you with him." He whispered against your neck, mouthing his lips on your skin. He moved towards your ear again, his timbre taking a firm, and almost possessive murmur. "You shouldn't be talking with him."
You felt your gut churn. That tone wasn't doing you any favours. And he knew damn well what he was doing pressing himself behind you while pushing up against the wood, the friction pressing at your core. You knew he heard you thickly swallow. "He is still my mentor," you defend, even through your stuttered breath.
"Yeah, but you don't need to train with him. You train with me too, you know?" Kung Lao defied, voice firm and possessive. His warm hand slid from your hip to your stomach, pulling you back to him tighter.
You grunted, placing your other hand on the desk. You were trying so damn hard to keep your composure, to not prize him for his actions. But feeling him press so suggestively to you, feeling the brief hard on against your ass was maddening.
He felt so annoyingly good. Your hand snaked to his wrist, squeezing a pathetic warning to him. "I am also a student. I cannot stop training simply because you're feeling left out."
You felt his chuckle vibrate beside your ear. It was too easy to sense your failing composure. His hand crept from your belly to interlock his fingers with yours, trapping it against the wood under a firm grasp. "Whatever you say," He mumbled, dripping with a smug, amused tone, knowing damn well he wasn't listening to a thing you were saying. His lips kissed the nape of your neck, his tongue running to taste your skin.
A shiver thrummed through you. How was he so good at this? You're attempting to stay determined, but your facade was crumbling. Your hand clenched beneath his, and you squirmed.
On the contrary, Kung Lao loved the way you were involuntary grinding against his hips. His lips pressed more firmly to your neck, his lips sucking at your delicate skin. His free hand went back to the side of your hip. "Ah, ah, ah," he mocked, "don't move so much."
You let out a huff through your nose. You were done with avoiding him.
But you wouldn't let him win.
In a display of insubordination, you wrapped your arm behind his neck, pushing him closer to you. You ground back on him, firm and deliberate, stealing some power back from him. He groaned, and you felt him twitch against your ass. Your fingers sank into his hair, grabbing at his ponytail.
The hand on your hip gripped tightly and he meets the angle of your hips. "Playing dirty?" He managed to get out, the natural smugness of his voice replaced by arousal.
"Like you don't like it." You leaned your head back against his shoulder, drinking in the tremors of his response. He bit at your earlobe. "You're so annoying."
"I'm taking it as a compliment," He conceded, his tongue caressing a path behind your ear. His hand trailed lower on your stomach, his thumb swiping over your underbelly.
You heart stuttered as his fingers trailed under the layer of your shirt. You tugged his head down to your height, kissing his dimple in permission to continue. You littered kisses along his strong jawline, spreading your legs and grinded against his cock encouragingly. Kung Lao leaned it to your lips, meeting your motion in return easily.
Kung Lao's hand dipped below the pants of your uniform, his dexterous fingers grazing your awaiting folds. "Gods, you're so impatient," he grunts, the rumble reverberating both beside and behind you. His voice was a blend of desire and lust as you melted into his touch.
"You're just slow," you retaliated and nipped at his neck, trying to get him to go faster already. There was no need for him to tease; you were so wet already.
He grunted at the sting of your teeth, a shudder running through him. His head pulled off your shoulder just to look down to you, his dark eyes lusted over. "I'm slow, huh?" He questioned in a low mockery. Before you could even question his response, two fingers dipped easily into you, deep. "Because I'm slow, right?"
Your whole body locked, spine arching back into him at the sudden intrusion. Neither your body or your mind expected to be stuffed so suddenly, and an absolutely pitiful whine broke from your throat. "Ah, fuck, you asshole," you panted, his fingers already setting a steady pace in fucking you open. Your slickness made you take him easily.
"Oohh, look who's getting bratty now," Kung Lao taunted with a sharp flick of his wrist. His simper spread when he felt your hot walls clench around him.
You didn't - couldn't - manage a reply to his irritable remark. Not when his fingers worked you skillfully and steadily.
And by the gods was he good with his fingers.
You were practically convulsing gently against his frame, trying to escape from the growing pleasure that was already gnawing inside you at his fingers alone. Your unbound hand gripped at his forearms, his wrist, his fingers - anything you could reach, trying wordlessly beg him to ease up.
You were eating your words now, feeling yourself mend to a moaning debauched mess, so pliant and submissive. His fingers scratched you deep and practiced; he knew your body all too well.
His eyes burned on your skin as he watched your every reaction. You writhed against his solid frame, but your body was at the mercy he didn't feel like giving you. His sighed, so satisfied, as his gaze fell on how well your pussy swallowed his fingers and drooled over his wrist. "Now look at you, so desperate and helpless.. all from just my fingers." He punctuated his words with a crook of his knuckles, hitting just right to release a whine of pleasure from you.* "You were saying you wanted me to go faster?"
Your mind took too long to process what he had said, and by the time it did, his fingers fucked were pumping in you faster, rougher. His gaze swallowed you, watching your crumble of power.
"K-King Lao, Lao, please, L-Lao," you spluttered, clenching around his fingers as you nearly sobbed. Your hips jerked in time with the thrusts of his wrist, your body chasing the pleasure without your mind's permission. His arm wrapped around your waist, enforcing you to keep partaking in the assault of pleasure. "I-I can't-"
"Yes you can. You can take it," He intercepted, keeping you pinned against him, taught. His fingers were relentless. "Don't tell me. You're overwhelmed by my fingers alone?" He purposefully hit the same spot within you, abusing it over and over again, just to feel that delicious jerk of your hips against his hardening dick.
You want to say more, but you find yourself unable to do anything more than just to stutter out breaths and broken sobs. You feel his other hand snake from your hip down, and you blush hard at the realization of what he's doing.
He spreads your folds lewdly, just for the added torture and for his own satisfaction of having a better look at his assault on you. You were dripping for him, your pussy looking so abused and full as your swallowed around his knuckles, painting them in a clear essence. Your pants fell off your hips and to to the floor finally. You kick them hastily off your ankles, not caring where they land.
You're thankful he's mostly supporting your weight. Your own legs were not an ally anymore, not having the strength as you only leaned back into him, seeking his touch and warmth. Your head fell into his strong bicep, muffling your moans into the muscle. You had half the nerve to sink your teeth into him for torturing you like this, but you were enjoying it more than you were willing to admit.
"All spread out in front of me. How can I not just take you?" Kung Lao's own breath was turning hot and ragged, the puffs hitting against your skin. He was so hard against you now, his eyes lusted over. His tongue darts out to wet his lips while his thigh snakes inbetween yours to open you up further for him.
You felt so exposed, so vulnerable and yet with him it felt so right as he admired you, devoured you with his eyes. Relentless, he pressed his thumbpad against your clit and you let out a shrill of a moan, tears hazing your eyes in pleasure. You felt your clit tremble. "L-Lao, gods, Lao.. I.. I'm going to.."
Lao chuckled deeply at the song of your shattered moan. "You're gonna what, hm?" His fingers kept their steady pace, fucking up into you while his thumb applied more pressure, swirling. He was determined to see you fall apart, to see your fall from grace. "Are you gonna come for me?"
You nodded quickly. There was no use in lying. Your mind was completely unraveled, only focused on the rising glow inside of you. Your hips rode in time with his wrist.
"Do it. Come for me." The command was a hiss in your ear, low and gravelly.
That sent you over, as if his permission held power over you.
Your release hit you - hard and crashing. You convulsed in his hands, her body arching and twitching. Kung Lao worked you through it, working you through you even as the white started to faze out of your vision. He held you firm, wanting to feel each twitch of your climax.
You sobbed and moaned his name, the only thing your mind could process, quivering as you came undone and when he worked you into overstimulation. His fingers slowed as you started to drift away from your high. The new wetness making his coating his fingers thickly.
You stuttered at the movement on your oversensitive walls. Your grimaced, shuddered. "Kung Lao," you warned. "Please."
Alright, he could be nice.
He let his fingers slip out of you, missing your encompassing heat as soon as they left you. His fingers were stained with your mark, your release dripping down his fingers. He held his hand in front of you both, forcing you to get a good look at it all the same. You painted him so beautifully.
There was a primal satisfaction he felt thrum through his body. Kung Lao took a moment to admire the sight, feeling the slick between his fingers. "Gods, look at you," he murmured, full of pride and desire. His eyes shifted to yours as he brought his fingers to his mouth, pressing them to the flat of his tongue. He slowly, savoringly licked them clean.
You groaned at that, a spike of heat bubbling in you again. You took the moment to shallow out your breathing. "You're so gross."
"You love it," he hauntingly responds, his tongue running over his thick fingers, cleaning every last drop you left on him. When he was satisfied, he hugs you to his chest. The same hand finds course to your chin and tilts your head back.
Your mouth was parted as you panted, meeting his eyes back with your glazed ones. Kung Lao's eyes scanned over your face, committing the painting of your features into your brain
"You look so beautiful when you come undone by me." He leaned his mouth forward, hovering just above your lips. You think he's going to kiss you, until his fingers press your lips. The same fingers you came on. "Taste yourself," he ordered.
You didn't protest. His fingers dipped into your mouth and you pressed your tongue to them. Your taste was faint, but still you obediently listened to him. As his fingers pushed deeper, your tongue wraps around his index, slick and warm before you swallow. You suck on them, your eyes never leaving his as you watch his desire unfold in his eyes.
"That's it," he praises. "Taste good, don't you?" You had enough sense to glare harmlessly to him. He takes his fingers out when he's content, a trail of saliva falling disconnecting. "You look adorable trying to glare at me when you're flustered and dazed."
"I can't believe you lied about some paper just to feel me up." You tried to break out of his hold, your mind catching back up to remind you that you should be annoyed with him.
"Hey, hey, don't get mad at me. I was just having some fun." His grip was unrelenting. "I feel like you should reward me for even letting Tomas flirt with you in the first place."
You were allowed enough room to turn in his hands, facing him with an unamused look. "He was not flirting with me," you argued back. "And you don't get anything just for being jealous."
Kung Lao sent you an incredulous look. "Are you really truing to deny it? You must be completely clueless then. It was so obvious. And I wasn't jealous," he added on petulantly.
"Tomas was not.." You trailed off, thinking back to some parts of your conversation with the assassin. Perhaps, just perhaps, Lao had a point. "It's not important," you ignored his smug 'hah!'. "I wasn't flirting with him, anyways."
"You're just as oblivious as always," he retorts. "And just because you weren't doesn't mean anything. I don't like how he was all over you. He knows I'm yours."
You ignored how your heart clenched when he said that. "You are still not getting anything just because you got jealous. And yes," you tacked on quickly, "You are jealous."
"Wha-" He sputtered. "I am not jealous! Why would I be jealous of him of all people?" He huffed, an indication that he was, in fact, incredibly jealous but refused to admit it.
"Possessive then? Infatuated?" You crossed your arms over your chest. "Envious? Bitter? Which synonym would you prefer?"
Kung Lao releases a frustrated huff, knowing this was going nowhere. His eyes flicked away as you continued to drive in your point. "Fine, I was.. a little jealous. Are you happy now?" His tone was still defensive, but there was a small glint of resignation.
"You were all of the above," you corrected, eyeing him.
He rolled his eyes. "Alright, you got me. I'm infatuated, envious, whatever. Anything else you wanna add to the list?
"Sure," you practically purred and reveled in the way his shoulders slumped. "Egotistical, flamboyant, cocky…" He were enjoying the sulking look of his. "And looks so damn good when he admits it."
His brown eyes look back at you, that smirk returning to play on his lips when you mentioned the last part. His ego never took a bruise for too long. "You forgot humble and modest.'
"Oh, right," you muse, matching his energy. You smirk up to him, unfolding your arms as you cock your head to the side. "The great Kung Lao."
His eyes seem to gleam back to you, enjoying the banner. A sense of confidence washed over him at the title. "Greatest warrior of all time." So self-assured.
"And exactly what does the great Kung Lao think he deserves since he so believes he's entitled to something?"
"I think as the Great Kung Lao I'm deserving of many things. Recognition, respect, admiration…" his eyes flicker down to your form, his gaze walking over you "Among other things Tomas won't get."
You give him an unimpressed look. "And what do you want now?" You ask instead.
"Well, for one" He stars, "For you to stay far away from Tomas. And for two.." Kung Lao moves in, backing you up against the desk once more, the back of your thighs digging into the wood "I think I deserve a little reward. For being honest about my feelings." Your legs bend until you're sitting on the edge, and neither of you care about the papers you may be crumpling. His hands are on either side of you again. "A nice, hard, long reward."
Your hands rest of his shoulders, eagerly squeezing at his muscles. His hands come to pull apart your thighs to slot between them. Your turn to lick your lips. "Yeah?"
"Yeah." Lao's body is firm as he pulls you by your legs to him. "And I think I'll take here, right now."
"On the desk? Seriously?".
"What? You don't like the idea of it?" His hands explore the contours of your sides. "You didn't mind a moment ago."
You sigh, defeated, and instead pull at his vest. "You're overdressed," you mumble, rising your eyes to his expectantly.
"I can fix that, easy." He moves away just enough to start undoing the buttons. Each undone button is a tease to his tanned skin below, a shade that has your mouth watering in anticipation. He pulls it off his arms, tossing it somewhere on the floor. His chest is bared to you, muscles rippling with the movement.
Your eyes roam him appreciatively and your hands find his skin again, massaging into his toned chest. He's well aware of how built he is, and even more aware of how much you appreciate it.
Kung Lao leans back, his face close to yours as he sends you that cock-eating smirk. "You like the sight, huh?" He teases. Like he had to ask.
"So obnoxious." You pinch his dark nipple in retaliation.
"Hey!" He lets out a shocked gasp, and his chest twitches at the sudden pinch. "Watch it now, that's sensitive." He pouts, rubbing a hand over the abused peck. He gives a brief glare before his smirk creeps back. "Do it again."
You let out an exasperated huff. "Ruining the moment."
He laughs, settling his grip on your hips. "You never complained before. Besides, you're the one who pinched my nipple."
"As if you didnt' like it," you retorted. You brought your hands to his face, carressing over his soft skin, your eyes drinking in his spellbinding features. Your fingers trail over his soft lips, the curve of his smile before tracing the dents of his dimples, staring at them in awe.
The dents deepened. "A fan?" His lips kiss your fingertips.
"Unfortunately."
"Only unfortunately? That hurts." His large hands squeeze you. "Can't help I have a handsome face. Lucky you, hm?" His self-assured confidence was back in full force it seemed.
"Hm," you repeated, matching his tone. "Looks ever better between my thighs."
There was a nice reaction. His eyebrows shot up at your boldness, his teeth peeking beneath his lips. "Is that an invitation?" He asks, voice lowering to a more seductive undertone. His hands shifted the inside of your legs, pushing them.
"Take it as a suggestion, if you will."
His hands stopped the junction of you pelvis. "I think I'll have to take you up on that." He kneels on the floor, quick and impatient, forcing your legs to expose yourself in the process. He's practically drooling already, and you were already bare, ready for him from the previous sin. Your pussy was a delectable sight but he still managed to trail his eyes back up to you when he heard the quick intake of breath.
Your hand shifted to the back of his head.
"Eager?" He teases, his breath fanning over your sensitive skin. You have half the mind to tell him to shut up but the words are lost when he leans in, his tongue licking a long stripe up you.
Your whole body jolts from the contact, and his hands have to hold you down atop your thighs, keeping them spread so you don't squeeze him. Not just yet, anyways. When he presses his lips to yours, sucking, a squeak leaves you and your fingers tighten in his hair, pulling at his scalp.
He can feel you twitch and squirm, both beneath his palms and on his tongue. His ego inflates at the sound of your pleasure. He chuckles, the deep vibrations coursing inside of you. "Sensitive, aren't you?" He teases between licks, his tongue lapping at the wetness unfolding before him. You can feel yourself opening to him. His fingers dig dents into your plush thighs, keeping you in place as he continues, dipping his tongue inside of you.
"Oh gods," you whimper. You can't manage a reply, not right now. You undo his ponytail, letting his hair fall free to his shoulders, and you grip it to ground yourself.
Kung Lao lets out a low moan as he swallows your lather, a taste he can never be filled of, and you jolt at its vibrations. His eyes open to see you, drinking in that delicious look of ecstasy on your face. It spurs him on, his tongue working inside your hot folds with more fervor. "You're shaking," he murmurs between sucks, and his eyes are blown wide as watches between your thighs, full of hunger.
You know that, damn him. But your face still flushes deep red from hearing it from him and you whimper, trying to stifle your moans. Seems you're being stubborn. He can't have that; He'll just have to pull them out of you.
Kung Lao sucks on your clit, grazing it just lightly between his teeth, before his tongue flattens against it to soothe it. He places open mouth kisses to your folds. He wants to hear every sound, feel every whimper and gasp of pleasure on his tongue and lips. He wants it all to be for him. His tongue rides inside you, moving quick and with purpose.
You pull him more taught, pressing the both of you closer, to have him deeper. He sucks and you jerk, a moan leaving deep within your chest. His hands fall away from your thighs, instead dipping underneath your hips and crushing you to him. His mouth covers the whole of you, and he moans in satisfaction as your thighs instantly squeeze around his head, twitching and trembling. An approving grunt follows.
He has more access to you, his tongue exploring each wet cavern and crevice of you, and you can feel each path it takes, each thrust the appendage pulses into you. You're not sure if you can decide if you like his tongue or lips on you better, but fortunately you don't have to decide.
He loves every second of this, loves every drop you make for him to swallow.
Your lips are parted as you heave your breaths, the blush running down your chest and dusting your shoulders. He doubles his efforts, his tongue fucking furiously against you. He wants nothing more than to see you writhe and cry out beneath him.
And yet, when you feel yourself fading, can feel yourself getting too far gone, he stops. Sudden and short, and you feel empty as his and unfulfilled as his tongue sinks out of you.
You hear him growl as he pulls away, not entirely wanting to himself. But he's craving you carnally.
You whine in protest, panting. His chin is wet with your slick and it makes your body flame hotter.
Kung Lao's eyes are darkened with desire, his own breathing ragged. He can still taste you on his tongue, can feel the evidence of his work on his chin. "You taste so good," he praises as he licks his lips. His hands squeeze you encouragingly. "But I need more. I need you."
He rises to his feet without another warning, his body towering over yours since you slipped down to your forearms. One hand stays upon your thigh, the other coming to caress your face, his thumb tracing your plump bottom lip. "I need inside you," *he mummers, voice rugged. His body presses against you, his aching cock pressed right up to your clit through the confines of his fabric, but you still felt it twitching when he feels your wetness touch it. It's evident how much he desires you.
"I think you may have a kink for desk sex," you comment idly, your breath ghosting his lips. You shudder at how hard he is.
He leans down, his lips brushing against yours in a deep kiss. But it's short before he pulls away, his breath hot as he responds. "Maybe." His hand slips to your neck, a shiver running through you. "I think it's just you." He pushes you backward until your back is laying on the desk.
"That's so stupid and cheesy," you comment but bite your lip. He grabs at the top of your uniform and slides the rest of it over top of you, leaving you just in your bra. His eyes soak in the sight hungrily, greedy. It cups your breast so nicely…
But no as perfect as it would be with his hands. With that though, he gropes your bust, pushing the plush of it up against your bra, plumping the skin. He nearly pants at that alone. Maybe he was a boob guy afterall.
It takes his mind a moment to process you responded. "I know you don't mind it." His hand continues to knead over the lace of your bra, a touch possessive. His eyes have a dark gleam to them.
His hand pushes beneath the band of your bra, pushing it up until your bare breasts bounce out below and he wastes no time in pressing his palms to them. You arch into his touch.
A hum of approval sounds in his throat. The peak of your nipples are enticing, and he runs it between his fingers, feeling it harden at the attention. He presses the peak with his thumb, his eyes roaming to your face to watch your expressions.
"You're being handsy," you comment, pretending as if this was having no effect on you.
He tilts his head. "Can you blame me? You're just too tempting." He shifts the bra off you afterward, another garment falling somewhere to the mess of his floor. "There's so much I want to do to you.."
"Why don't you start with kissing me?"
A soft chuckle leaves him. He presses flush against you again, taking in the sight of your flustered skin. "I'm definitely doing that," he mumbles over your lips, teasing you before finally capturing yours in a deep, passionate embrace.
His tongue wastes no time in licking into your mouth, tasting, his hands holding you in place as he tastes you hungrily. You kiss him back with the same fervor, but you let him dominate the path of your lips, the ferocity of the moment. Your legs encompass him, wrapping over his sharp hips. You grind up into him. moaning as he meets your movement, his desire so hard as it slides against your wanting folds. Your fingers find their way back to his hair.
"I have a question," you murmur inbetween of kisses and you nibble on his bottom lip before salving it with your tongue.
Kung Lao shudders. He breaks his next kiss, keeping close as he looks down with lidded eyes. "Listening."
"Can you just get the fuck inside of me already?"
His tongue rolls over his teeth, dimples returning. "So bossy." But his hands are already moving down to the waistband of his pants, pulling them down without a waste of another second. There's a bit of arrogance in his expression when he's there nude above you. "I like it. But can't you wait a little bit longer?" He's purposefully teasing you.
"Make me wait any longer," you started, a grumble in your chest, "And I'm going back to Tomas."
A laugh escapes out of him, his head dipping back in amusement. When the laugh ends, his head dips toward you again, his eyes gleaming with annoyance and a flash of possessiveness. He leans in, his lips hot against your ear, his voice dipping low and dangerous as he speaks. "Don't you dare every joke about that," he nearly growls.
"Then get on with it." You lick a hot stripe from the curve of his collar bone, up the length of his neck, tasting his sweat and pulse beneath his tongue. You stop at his chin, placing a wet kiss there. The sight of his thick, twitching and curved cock nearly makes you feral. Precum drips out of its slit and your mouth waters.
Kung Lao shudders overtop of you, a moan escaping past his lips. His self-control is fading, the desire of how badly he wants you surging forth. It was driving him wild.
He finally kicks off his pants completely.
You are both bare and exposed, the heat between the both of you scorching. Your hands seek his skin, following the valley of his contours before finding purchasing in wrapping around his neck, keeping him close to you. Your breaths mingle, tasting each other's. You're so ready for him, it almost hurts with every pulsing throb that runs through you. You peck his lips, looking into his eyes as you await him.
You don't dare to blink. You always loved watching his expression when he sunk into you, afterall.
He sigh when he finally, finally, lines himself up to you.
His chocolate burn you, committing the feel of your legs around his waist to his vast memory of you. His heart is pounding in the confines of his chest, his body tight with need for you. "You're beautiful," he can't help but mutter, his words barely more than a whisper. He drinks in your every feature, his breath catching in his throat as he finally, slowly, pushes into you.
His girth stretches into you and your warmth envolpes him, so easily encompassing, your body familiarized with every part of him. You grunt at his entrance, your head dipping back onto the desk. Your hips arch up into him, his cock curving into you deeply. He holds you steady.
You're so tight, so hot, so wet. So perfect for him.
Your hand squeezes the back of his neck, the other raking your nails into the curve of his back as you ground yourself into the moment. "Kung Lao," you moan out his name, watching his eyes dilate, his eyebrows scrunch in pleasure as he hilts into you.
He's always so expressive in that moment, with how his lips part open, his eyes haze beyond his control.
"You feel so good," he grunts, ragged and deep, his lips still parted as he breaths out the words. His eyes fluttered shut for a moment at sensation of your nails dipping into his skin, his body rigid with pleasure. He loves that sound of his name on your lips, the way you say it; the way you need him in this moment.
He begins to move, his hips thrusting into you slowly at first. His hand bruise your hips as he tries to maintain the last threads of his control. His eyes open to fixate on your face.
He didn't need to wait for you to adjust. Not when you were so used to him, not when he prepared you so well. He moves inside of you deeper, accumulating you to his increasing movement. His breath fans off your skin, both of your moans slipping into the other's mouth.
You're so slick around his cock. He opens you wider for himself, a hand holding you down on your thigh, while the other glides to the dip of your knee and raises your leg up, settling it over his shoulder to spread you. His angles his hips a new angle, delving into you deeper.
You can practically see the moment in his eyes when he feels you fully adjust to him, the flash of lust over his pupils when he knows he can pummel you. He marks your plush skin possessively, his thumb stroking the skin that plumps under his grip. He drinks in every twitch, every pass of pleasure on your face and every moan that escapes from your lips. His pace increases steadily.
"You're so pretty, Kung Lap," you praise and he kisses your knee. "I like when your hair is down. Fuck, you feel so good." Your hips undulate as his thrusts turn more purposeful, more pointed.
Your compliments wash over him, his pulse jumping. Something in him always burned when you praised him, something primal. "You feel amazing," he responds, hips thrusting faster into you, your skin slapping off each other, the sound filing into the background.
You pussy clenches around him, pulling a moan from the both of you. You shiver at the sound of his moan, a ripple of pleasure coursing through you. You can hear how wet you are becoming, the lewd sound of your sex filling the room, amplifying your shared lust. The desk begins to creak beneath you as he picks up his pace to something more relentless.
Kung Lao's eyelids flutter again. You were going to kill him with how much you twitched and clenched without realizing. The desk was a countertenor to your lyrics of pleasure, urging him on, riling him to to pull more from you.
"You're so tight," he grunts.
You cursed below your breath. He hits into you so deep, so bruising. "You make such pretty sounds, Lao," you whisper. "Please keeping moaning. F-for me."
Your words course a shiver down his spine. He ruts into you, and it earns a deeper and more guttural sound from him. He pushes your thigh further up on his shoulder. "Don't stop talking," he growls out, his breathing coming out more heavy and broken as his thrusts stutter.
You poke an eye open, watching his sanity crumble. Your other eye opens. "You like when I talk to you?" You ask around broken moans. "Like when I praise you for being a good boy?'
Your eyes paint with lust when he nods, his eyes nearly rolling back at the title. "I love it," he gasps, steadying his weight on an arm as his thrusts slam into you. Your voice, your choice of words, drive him wild. His hips buck into you more urgently, less rythmatic, relying more onto his fraying instincts. You know his you a bruise in shape of his hand by tomorrow. "Do not stop. Please don't stop."
Who were you to deny that? "The great Kung Lao falls at such simple words.. So beautiful when he's like this." You moan at a particularly harsh thrust, spine jerking into him* "So pliant. My good boy.. good puppy."
Kung Lao nearly whines at that. You both demean and praise him as one, and he can't resist the pull it has over him, his movements turning sloppy as he ruts into your hips. He released a loud moan, his eyes practically pleading with yours. "I'm your good boy," he agrees, his body all but melting, his hips driving into you with a desperate need.
And yet you crave even more. You know he can give you more. "Don't be so gentle with me, pretty," you coo. "Go harder. Be rough. You can do that for me, can't you? Baby?"
A guttural moan passes his lips at the neediness in your request. He likes it rough. He loves it even more when you give permission to be rough.
"Anything," he nods. "Anything you want." He rightens his grip on and does an experimental thrust into you, harder, brutal as he drags you down onto him in time with his plunge. He doesn't wait for a response, diving right into a savage pace, jackhammering into you at an animalistic rhythm. His muscles strain, but gods he needed this.
The force of his hips send the desk into an endless creaking state that threaten to splinter, scraping against the floorboards. The back of it bangs against the wall with each calculated thrust, but neither of you can find a care to stop. A large part of him is riled knowing someone could hear you both, knowing that they're hearing him claim you.
"T-that's it," you affirmed. "Y-yes, Lao. Doing.. so-so good. Feel so good."
"You're mine," he states with a deep growl," the thought of someone - hopefully Tomas - hearing this was driving him to an almost overwhelming state. His hips bounced off yours in an impairing force, the sound of your coupling growing desperate, urgent.
"Yours," you confirmed. Your head throws back, your throat presented to him. Tempting… "F-fuck, Kung Lao..!"
That smirk returns to his lips, seeing the expanse of your throat bared to him. His head dips to it, his lips sucking over your pulse point. His teeth graze it, teasingly. "You have no idea how good you look like this.."
Moans spill from you, falling from your lips in an overflow and he soaks the vibrations of them, bites them. Your nails leave crescent dents into him, red marks burning into his back.* "Tell me about it," you request in a helpless whimper.
His teeth pave a burning pathway to the side of your cheek, his deep grunts filling your ear. "The way you open up for me." he starts, his voice sensual and gravelly with need, his body practically molding itself against you as he bounces you off of him. "The way your pussy takes me, the way your body responds.. Your moans.."
"Yeah?" Your urge him on, your own body responding to his words. "How wet I get for you?"
Kung Lao moans, the sound guttural. His lips find your jawline, pressing nibbles across it. He's driven by your words. "So wet, so tight."
The best part about that was just how amplified it made the sounds between you two. The loud, wet squelch. It made everything so much more intoxicating.
"You do it to me, it's all you, K-Kung Lao," you sputter out. Your lips messily find his.
This was so obscene, so disgustingly perfect. "All me, no one else," he growls between your tongues' intertwining, his pants hot and heavy as his thighs slam off yours. "No one else can make you feel this."
The hickeys he left tingle on your neck, and you relinquish in their burn. Your tongues dance in a heated, messy display, hands groping any part him you can reach. You find the column of his throat and you squeeze, firmly. "Only you," you agree. "S-so keep fucking me, Kung Lao. Make me come on you, let me feel - fuck - feel you inside me.. Please? So I know I'm yours. I-inside and out."
Kung Lao's lips part in delight, in pure pleasure at the restriction around his throat. The sound of your light begging, telling him to make you come? He would do anything you asked in that moment. "Fuuck, you're mine."
His hands grip onto the underside of your hips and lift you, the change of inclination allowing him to thrust into your warm cavern deeper.
Your moans leave you without any sense of control or restraint. You can only willingly take what he's pounding into you, your mouth agape as moans stream out of your raw throat. You're burning, so is he, and you can feel the familiar urge settling in your stomach.
He knows you're right there on the edge because he's there too, but his focus is entirely on you. "Come for me, baby girl," he grits out, driving into his hips. "I need to feel you." He grunts out your name, and you think that was the thing that truly breaks you.
You bury your fingernails further into him, ground yourself, overwhelmed by him. You moan his name loudly, the only thing your mind could process onto as you came for the second time, more immense than the last.
He watches you you fall apart beneath him, your climax painting you into the perfect picture of debauchery. Your inner walls tremble and grip him, aside your spiraling cries, and it's almost enough to send him following right over the edge. Almost. "You're perfect," he gasps out, gripping your thigh closer to him, using it as an anchoring point to plow into you.
Your breath remains shuddered, moans still slipping past your lips as he continues to fuck into you even in your hazed, barely there mindset as you tried to find solace after your release. Your hips jerk gently out of your control, bucking back up to him as he chases his own ecstasy. Your eyes are blurred, pupils blown wide as you keep your vision trained on him.
One look at your eyes and he knows he's done for, but he holds on, stuttering with more urgency. "I'm close," he rasps out, strained. "So close."
"Please," you beg to him in a soft, needy whisper. He leans back over you, pressing his head into your shoulder. He can practically feel himself tear apart.
Your arms wrap around him in a secured embrace, feeling the way you claw onto him in anticipation for his own release. He faltered, if only for you.
It pushes him into his own pleasure, a lengthy moan escaping his throat, his body tensing while his hips mercilessly still plow into you, burying your head deeply into the crevice of your neck as he comes inside of you. "Fuck," his hisses as he rides through his orgasm, "I'm so-I- you-"
He's sputtering nonsense, his mind so far gone.
"That's it," you whisper encouragingly, shifting your hips to feel his warmth cradle the inside of you, the heat spreading into you deeply. You milk him for all his worth and when he doesn't have more to give, he slows speed down, his thrusts turning soon shallow.
Kung Lao can feel himself shuddering against you, his body reeling from the pleasure still coursing through his veins, the adrenaline that still pumps through him with every hammering pulse of his heart. He's completely wrecked, utterly spent, but he can't bring himself to move away from you, not just yet.
You are in no rush to escape from him either. You just hold onto him there, your bodies intertwined intimately as you bond in the mutual afterglow. He's still inside of you, entrapping his release inside of you, hot and filling. Your fingers glide over the skin of his mark you marked, a comforting sensation for him, while your others glide themselves through his hair. It's quiet between you two as you share a few silent moments
. You nuzzle your cheek on his head, peppering kisses to the crown of his hair. Your pulse steadies in his comfort and you let out a small, content noise. "So good for me," you praise after a pause, when you trust your voice to speak again.
But apparently his mind was already back because you can feel his ego practically bolstering, his senses flooding back into him. He pulls slightly back, hovering closely above you with a self-satisfied look in his eyes. "Perfect, aren't I? He grins. "I do come from a long line of-"
"You're so unsexy." You push his face away from you.
He cackles, his lips widening honestly. He grabs at your wrist, holding it so you can't push him away. "So what? You love it. Don't deny it, you think I'm great."
You make a noise, shaking your head at his pride but even you can't help the sound of affirmation that leaves you. You caress his cheek and you sigh again, silently, your eyes softening in adoration. "Yeah," you begrudgingly agree. "I do love you."
Oooh, he's never letting you live down those words. He cranes into your touch. That winner smirk of his dissolves into a genuine one, his eyes softening. "You better love me," he answers, tone turning more affectionate. He places a kiss to your palm. "You're stuck with me forever, you know that right?"
"Only if you don't burn the world down before then," you confirm.
"I'm not that bad," he protests but there's cheekiness bordering his voice. "I might destroy a few things. But I'm a perfect angel, really."
You want to scoff at that. This saint just committed several sins with you. You raise yourself up and he pulls himself out of you, humming at the loss of your contact. You feel the mess pool between your legs and you grimace. "If you're such a saint, how about you being so generous and carrying me to the shower?"
Kung Lao isn't really listening to you, passive as he takes satisfaction in watching his come pour out of you instead. But he eventually looks back to you. "Demanding as usual." He shakes his head in mock disapproval. "But," he concedes, lifting you easily into his arms. "I suppose I can indulge you once in awhile."
"My hero," you pride him flatly, wrapping your arms around his neck.
His chuckle runs through you in his chest and he squeezes you as he carries you into the adjourned bathroom with prideful strides. "You really should be more grateful, you know," he teases. He sets you gently down in the shower, ensuring your legs can stand on their own before he releases you.
You don't reply for a second, focusing on stabilizing yourself. "You're staying, right?" You don't voice it, but it's an obvious plea for him to shower with you.
Lao raises an eyebrow at you, clearly saying: 'Of course I'm staying', as if he was offended you even thought differently. He steps inside of the shower after you, closing the distance between you and him again. He smiles down at you and walks you back under the water spicket.
You smile up to him, your hands finding trails over his arms to take. You know you really shouldn't tease him, but you just can't help it… "Wanna invite Tomas, too?"
Bad choice for you. His hand was on the nozzle and upon hearing your words, he stops and looks down on you. Did you seriously just ask him that?
"He has his own." His answer was short.
He just.. can't help it when he feels a bit vindictive, twisting the shower on to rain freezing water down onto you. His expression clearly communicated that that's exactly what you deserved and he holds you there tight as you shriek and try to escape.
He watches the water crusade over you, your body shivering and he doesn't fight the satisfied look on his face.
"Lao!" You shriek, your hair weighing down under the cold divets of water. "You asshole!"
He sighs in exaggerated bliss, obviously enjoying the desired effect it had on you. He holds you tighter to him, his body radiating a warmth that contradicts the cold water pouring down on you. "You know you deserved that."
You shiver, goosebumps rising on your skin. His gaze follows the trail of water running down your body, following the lines of your curves. Your nipples perked, hardened. But when you shiver again, your teeth clattering, he finally finds some mercy and turns the water to warm. He moves himself under the stream of water as well, letting it rain over you both. He sighs at the contact.
You harmlessly glare up at him. "You are such…" You honestly had no good comeback.
"Can't help it." His voice lacked remorse. "You provoked me."
"Pain my ass," you mutter beneath your breath, but you know damn well you partially deserved that.
But hell, if you didn't absolutely adore him...
"You have a nice ass," he adds after a moment.
"Lao, if you don't shut up for at least two minutes.."
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vigilskeep · 19 days
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I've been going through your Keir Hawke tag because the character absolutely fascinates me and I keep seeing glimpses of Varric and Anders' friendship in that world state (especially something you mentioned about the book originally going to be about Anders) and it's making me feral
What do you think Varric and Anders' relationship is like? What does Varric think about Keir refusing to kill Anders and running off with him?
the thing about varric and keir is that even if they manage to get along in their way, their relationship is basically one of necessity. keir never trusted him in act 1, and varric vastly preferred bethany’s gentleness to keir’s whole uh attitude, but after the deep roads expedition they for various reasons both feel a level of guilt and obligation that sticks them together. you might say they’re more like family than friends, in the sense that with family you don’t have a choice. whereas varric and anders are actually friends, they get along, they joke together. varric finds anders hard to deal with in the later acts but they’re still at the hanged man together, varric is still trying to reach out in his way during banters, anders is trying to leave his possessions to him, etc. and that’s not like with varric and keir where something specific and insane happened to lock them together. he genuinely just likes anders
and varric is creatively interested in anders from the beginning; he’s talking about writing “an epic poem about a hopelessly romantic apostate” in literally the first banter they have. (why did he say hopelessly romantic. why did he say that.) i don’t think it occurs to him that keir even might be material for the protagonist of anything until... maybe the arishok duel, by which time iirc he’s already publishing his serial inspired by, like, aveline and donnic of all people. before that, keir is pretty obvious rags-to-riches plot inspiration but tbh i think varric thought that part was a bit cliché and that even if he did want it, he’d swap out the actual character for someone more likeable, lmao. god knows how or if he was thinking of writing the love interest in the anders-focused version of the book
i don’t think it would have occurred to varric that keir would spare anders and run off into the sunset with him. varric has a very surface-level read on keir, he kind of just sees the red hawke front. i think it’s umm... how do i put this. i think it’s integral to the severity of varric’s reaction to anders in dai that it doesn’t make sense in his head that he himself was more angry than keir, and that he was closer to agreeing with sebastian, the guy who went on to attack kirkwall. i think a lot of people including himself act “out-of-character” in that moment from varric’s perspective, and he finds that very distressing. the rewrite of the book that suddenly centres keir is also him rewriting his memories until everything “fits”. he never liked anders that much, it was hawke, hawke was always really the protagonist and varric has always been on his side, incidentally varric also totally always hated sebastian and is nothing like him, also anders’ actions are 100% sudden and crazy and varric’s anger over them is 100% normal impersonal and justified, etc etc. (to be clear i’m not saying this affects everything we see in da2 and that anders is Maligned in it or whatever. varric’s narrative in da2 is not the same as the book. a very significant amount of the truth slips back in when he has to talk so long, and talk for his life. anders’ sympathetic qualities and their friendship, for example, i can’t imagine that comes up a lot that’s in a book that canonically doesn’t even mention what happened to anders after the explosion.)
varric does not feel particularly normal about any part of the life anders and keir are currently living and he does not like to think about it. he had to rewrite the book into a tragedy to make sense of everything, which conflicts upsettingly with the reality that those two are... honestly simply not tragic. obviously they went through hell. but the mage rebellion is achieved. anders and keir are both visibly better in body and mind for being out of kirkwall. they do get married! it was varric’s home (a city keir hated) that got destroyed (by anders). and varric’s the one left on his own. and the one audibly kind of miserable and guilty and homesick and generally Doing Bad during a lot of inquisition. i think he finds that comparison very hard to even think about. it’s easier to see and analyse tragedy in other people like an impartial observer, than reckon with the fact that it was actually you it happened to and the people you miss and blame and feel bad for in equal measure are kind of just... doing fine? (without you. better the moment they left your city behind.)
(note: i am never arguing “the book was meant to be about anders” as a general headcanon, i just know it to be true in my worldstate)
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r1pp4r · 1 year
Text
• hiii!!! this is gonna be my first post.. ive literally never shared anything besides on tiktok!!! (my tiktok is r1pp4r most of my stuff is already on there 🫣) anyway enjoy
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• uh… simon’s jealous hehe :))
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summary: there’s a new recruit who doesn’t understand that you belong to ghost. but is he about to find out.
word count: 2.4k
warnings: smut!!!! MDNI!! simon ghost riley x fem reader, unprotected piv (latex goes inside too), possessiveness, no use of y/n, praise, breeding kink, fem compliments, biting?? idk
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god.
simon wasn't a jealous man. he knew that every night you came to him. you were the one under the sheets in the middle of the night. and.. if you loved someone else, did you even love him? he just knew you were in his arms at the end of the day.
but tonight something snapped. there was a possible new recruit that was shadowing you, and there had been for about three days now. and god had he been flirting with you. simon could see it in the way he followed you around like a goddamn puppy. the way he stared at you, would do anything you asked. you were absolutely beautiful no one could deny but everyone knew better.
but of course the new recruit didn't. and simon was starting to get tired of it. the two of you kept things discreet just in case anything could happen to you. most of it was unspoken. they'd all seen, heard, or just overall knew. it was all just unspoken between them. besides that fucking recruit.
and tonight. tonight was what did it. you were all in the cafeteria of the base, it was seemingly small since it was just the lot of you. simon was sitting at a round metal table, sticking his fork into his food while price, and soap sat around him. the two of them were talking to simon but he wasn't fucking listening. he was watching the way the new recruit finally put his hands on you.
the two of you were standing near the door, probably discussing how he was doing and whatnot. and he had reached his bare hand and placed it onto your skin. onto simon's. and simon had to watch as your face became red as you were flustered from the touch. it was clear you were uncomfortable as you took a small step back after, and he could hear your laugh. that fake laugh.
so, simon pushed his food away and got up, his sights on the new recruit. you quickly saw what was happening, and went to stand in front of the new recruit, trying to use yourself as a shield- but when simon grabbed you, your eyes widened and you didn't know what was gonna happen.
"specialist, we need to talk."
was all he said as he brushed by the new recruit. you could see that after he grabbed you, he tried not to stare at the recruit, quickly walking towards his private room. simon wasn't saying a word. usually you didn't mind the silence, but right now you dreaded it. all you could see was the way simon's chest heave. it was something otherworldly.
as the two of you walked into the room with a desk that was littered with papers to your left, a door to a bathroom on your right and a bed with a bedside table and a lamp. the mattress was only on box springs. simon had you go first, watching you with these.. predatory eyes. he was inhaling your scent basically as you walked passed him. simon looked like he was going to go absolutely feral. simon was usually a soft lover, but tonight.. no. not tonight.
tonight it was going to be known who fucked you into the mattress at night.
as you heard the door shut behind you, the hair on your neck immediately stood up as you felt simon's hand on you. he quickly pulled you back into him, and wasted no time. he pressed his front to your backside and you could slowly feel his erection growing.
"simon-" you choked. all of the air left your lungs at that moment. "what are you doing-"
he didn't even say anything in acknowledgement of the fact you said his name. he just growled and grumbled against your neck. his hands were then on your hips, your waist, and ultimately moved underneath your shirt. he ran his hands up your bare stomach, as simon's mouth had come onto your neck, where the joint of your shoulder met. he wasn't being gentle.. there was teeth, and he was marking you.
his hands had made their way to your breasts and he began to squeeze. your hear fell back against his shoulder as you couldn't stop the soft whimpers and gasps that were now falling from your lips.
"yeah. make those pretty little fuckin' noises fa' me. good fuckin' girl. those 'r all mine. only mine. and everyone's fuckin' gonna know. "
simon had growled into your neck as one of his hands came up to play with your nipple, while the other moved from under your shirt, and came to wrap around your throat.
"simon— are you- are you jealous?"
the word made him freeze. he quickly stood up and removed his hands from your throat and breast, and moved them to your arms, turning you around so the two of you were facing fronts. simon towered over you. you were about 5'4", and he was 6'4". so a foot taller, but he moved his hand, and wrapped his fingers around your jaw, making you look up at him.
simon began walking you back to the bed, slowly trapping you with a dangerous look in his eyes.
"he touched you, ripley. he touched what was mine in a way no one else gets to have you. i see the way he looks at you.."
he grumbled, and you were slowly beginning to understand. so you nodded as simon got in close, slowly pressing you down against the bed with you in between his legs.
"how dare he touch you like that? touch what's mine? i don't care anymore, ripley. everyone's gonna know who you belong to."
your lips had parted the minute simon had started talking. but even as he started talking, simon was moving the two of you. he had moved in between your legs, rubbing his groin against your own core and you could feel his bulging cock strain against those gorgeous cargos of his. you could feel it through your own, but he couldn't feel how soaked your panties were.
"do it simon. i want everyone to know i'm yours."
you whispered softly to him. you knew exactly what you were asking for. the room was already thick, as the tension finally snapped between the two of you. you watched as simon lost his resolve when he ripped his mask off and crashed his lips into you.
it was so carnal. the way he kissed you. it was tongue, teeth, anything you could thing of. his hands were dragging along your clothing at this point and you swore if he didn't have that tiny bit of restraint, he wouldn't ripped your uniform off and he could. you would know. so with a growl of his own, he pulled away, staring down at you.
"strip. i need you tonight, i can't.. just fuckin' strip."
you could tell simon was trying to keep all of his self control in that moment. and you were thankful for it. but you did as you were told, but you couldn't help but go slow as you watched simon undress. he was absolutely beautiful.
simon truly wasn't the jealous type. he knew you were his, and you had proved that for the past few years. but something in this new recruit just broke him. it was probably the way you were spending so much time with him, but simon knew it wasn't your fault. he trusted you and you knew that. but the way that recruit was touching you.. looking at you.. speaking to you.. it was too much. this recruit was too comfortable and only after three days? simon was lucky this was all he was doing.
but you had absolutely no complaints. simon was overall a soft and sweet lover. he took his time with you, making you cum as many times as he could muster out of you before you became in a cock drunken state. he loved sweet talking you through it, making sure to be gentle. but sometimes he couldn't be gentle. he needed to feel your thighs slap against his, he needed to see the marks on your neck that would soon serve as a reminder of who you belonged to.
as the two of you were finally bare, simon had moved you into his favorite position. he loved to have you on top of him. even though you were over him, he still had all the control over you. he moved your hips, he fucked up into you, and you were pliant in his hands every fucking time.
simon was grinding his red, angry and throbbing shaft against your entrance after he opened you up on his fingers, and tongue. making you ride his face. but the tip of his cock was rubbing its way up and down your flower, teasing you for a good minute but god it felt absolutely divine.
"oh my sweet girl. i want everyone in this fuckin' building to know who you belong to. you understand?"
"you're gonna do so good. and you're gonna take it fuckin' all, yeah? i know you can do it."
"i want to hear you scream ripley. i want to hear you tell everyone whose making you feel this fucking good."
and as if to tease you, simon pressed his tip up against your hole, pressing in slightly. and god did that small stretch feel absolutely beautiful.
"simon!"
you basically squealed, your arms had come to wrap around his shoulders, and your finger nails were making your own marks against his skin as they dug into the soft flesh.
"yes- yes yes yes. i'm all yours. only you make me feel this good."
"mhmm~! gonna take it all. all for you, simon.. holy fuck please."
"please i- god was thinkin' about you when he touched me. what you would do to him. how badly i wanted to tell him i belonged to you."
"please simon. please fuck me i need it. claim me. fill be. breed me."
you were blabbering and begging while simon had moved one of his hands down to your slick cunt. there was a fucking river dripping down your thighs and onto his manhood. you wanted- no needed his cock. it was the only one that could stretch you. fill you to the brim. his dick made you cock dumb. and simon loved that.
"greedy fuckin girl. you want me to fuck you, aye lass? don't worry. i'm gonna fuck you well and good."
and simon made good on that promise. the hand which was swirling light circles onto your clit moved to grab the base of his length, holding it still as he slowly pushed his hips up into that beautiful and tight fucking cunt.
your jaw slacked open as your eyes screwed shut. you used simon's shoulders to steady yourself as you sunk down slowly, soft cries beginning to fall from your lips.
"that's it."
"good girl."
"keep takin' it. just like that. oh sweet fuckin' girl."
the absolute stretch as he filled you was delicious. even though he had stretched you open earlier, simon's fingers were still no match for the girth of his shaft. so as you bottomed out, you couldn't help the shudder that went through your body as you let out a cry.
"fuck! simon!"
you breathed heavily as your head fell onto his shoulder. simon had one arm around your waist, and the other was still guiding his manhood into you. but he moved that hand after you had bottomed out, and moved it to the back of your neck, massaging softly as he cooed to you.
"oh love. look at that. you're so fucking tight and so fucking wet."
"i can feel this pretty little cunt already gushing around me sweetheart. god my cock that good huh?"
simon was pressing soft kisses to the side of your neck, jaw and nibbling on your ear. you quietly moaned into his shoulder as you swiveled your hips a bit, feeling him shift deep within you.
"mhmm! god your cock it's so.. it's too much simon.. god you're huge-"
and it was too much. his cock felt so good tonight and you didn't know why. it felt bigger. you felt full and simon was going back to marking you softly as he brought his hand back down to your clit.
"hey- hey. i got you baby. don't worry, start movin' those hips love. i got 'ya."
simon spoke softly under a grown as you clenched on him while he began rubbing your clit, feeling your soaked little cunt. you whimpered as you slowly began to grind back and forth, feeling simon roll your clit between his fingers. you moaned loudly into his skin once again as he moved one of hands to grip onto your lips. simon was groaning and growling into your chest as you ground against him.
"oh my god simon. you feel so good-"
"god i can- i'm so full. want to be full of your- of your cum-"
you were babbling into his skin. you couldn't help it. he made you cum at least twice. once on his fingers and once on his tongue while speaking obscenities into your cunt as you rode his face. and now he was doing the same as your rode his cock. simon's fingers had left your clit and came to your hips, holding them tightly. his fingers were gonna leave bruises at this point.
"fuck sweet girl- you're doin so good. but i need more."
"hold onto me love. i need you to get a good grip. i'm gonna fuck you good sweetheart, so i need you to scream for me."
simon had held your hips still as he spoke to you. he wanted to make sure you understood what was about to happen and you did. you nodded at simon, your eyes becoming fully glazed over finally. simon immediately wrapped his arms around your waist, and laid you back a bit further, before planting his feet into the mattress as he began fucking up into you.
your ass slapped against his thighs every time, creating a delicious smack every time he bottomed out. god simon was going to split you in half. he was murmuring in your ear, how good you were doing. how sweet that little cunt was. how tight you were around his cock. and all as he continued to fuck into you at a brutal pace.
you were on the brink of tears at simon's pace. he was leaving no mercy as you were crying out his name, and you were loud. shameless. just how he wanted you.
"yeah, that's right. scream my fuckin name lovely girl."
"god you're so fucking tight- goddamnit. fuck- me."
simon grunted out as he moved one hand up to your shoulders, and he was practically slamming you down against his cock. you were a blabbering mess, as his cock was hitting that spot just right. you were getting so close.
"oh- fuck! simon! i need it! your cock is so big- right there! there!"
"yes! ah~! i'm so close!"
simon could feel you clenching against him as his pace hadn't faltered. he knew not to let up or change when he found that sweet little fucking spot that made you scream. and you were so close. you were crying now, loud sobs of his name falling from your lips, and reverberating around the room. he didn't stop even as he felt the slight bubble of blood on his shoulders and your legs beginning to shake.
"yeah. that's right. cum on my fucking cock, ripley."
"scream my name. tell everyone on this team whose fucking you this good. let everyone know you're all fucking mine!"
simon was animalistic in his movements now. his own nails were dragging down your back as your own made their way to his chest, once again marking you as his own.
"fuck! simon! i'm cumming!"
"breed me. breed me please! fill me! i want it i need- god i'm all yours fuck!"
and you absolutely shattered against him. your throat was nearly bleeding from how loud you screamed. simon's shoulder became soaked with tears as his pace began to falter.
"yeah yeah yeah- i'm gonna breed this pretty little fuckin' cunt. gonna paint your walls with my seed. fuck sweetheart- fuck!"
simon moaned into your neck as he pressed you fully down on his cock, while still trying to fuck all of his seed up into your cervix. you were on birth control thank god but.. maybe one day.
simon held you against his chest, both of your bodies covered in a think layer of sweat. you were nearly unconscious, your eyes rolling back as simon sat the two of you up a bit.
you whined as you felt him move. you tried to move off his cock but he just held you there whispering sweet nothings.
"shh.. it's alright sweet girl. don't worry. you're okay. i got you."
"you were so good. such a good girl. i'll run you a bath here soon, yeah? you're my sweet girl. you did so good. i'm so proud of you for takin' my cock like that."
simon pressed kisses to the side of your face as you slowly blinked back to life.
"there's my sweet girl."
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billietherock · 28 days
Text
There was no Weirdmageddon (pt6)
By Billietherock
(Gore Warning)
Chapter 2 (pt3)- Deal
Bill was so mad he could barely speak. Did Stanford Pines, some shut in who can barely speak to another person just shut Bill Cipher down? Why yes he did. Stanford shifts his weight from one foot to another, a little nervous for what would happen next.
“My thought was, well you could prove it first? Like how serious you are about this whole thing since… I’m putting my mind and body on the line and you have nothing to lose from this… deal…” he notices how red Bill was becoming.
“Serious?” Bill mutters,” You think I’m not serious?!”
Ford shakes his hands in front of him as Bill grows to immense size,” no no, I never said you weren’t serious. I just want you to prove that me giving you free reign of my body isn’t a massive mistake!”
Bill grabs Ford and glares at him,” I HAVE BEEN NOTHING BUT HELPFUL AND ENCOURAGING TO YOU. WHAT MORE PROOF DO YOU NEED?!”
Ford couldn’t speak, Bill was choking the life out of him. Bill’s anger turns to annoyance as he shrinks back down, giving Ford room to breathe. Ford takes a few wheezy breaths as he collapses onto his knees.
“Haha I get it. Except, I don’t.” He folds his arms,” what’s your plan here Fordsy. Are you going to make me cut off my arm or something?”
Ford shakes his head,” it should be easy for you. All I want you to do,” he wheezes,” is show up on my doorstep. Simple, then in return I’ll take you to do human activities.”
He takes a few more breaths before he returns to his feet,” I just want you to prove you’re just as serious as me, and you’re willing to listen. And uh maybe, if you're feeling adventurous… help out in the lab… like physically?”
Bill was still angry, he was angry that some human would call him out like this… put him in a tough spot.
“ I can just find another scientist, Stanford Pines. I don’t have to be your muse anymore.” But they both knew there wasn’t really anyone else, not with Ford so close to the portal’s completion.
There is a long pause, both the scientist and the demon lost in their own thoughts. The scientist hoping that lessons he learned from Stanley as a teen would pay off. The demon because he was insulted and humiliated in the span of five minutes, but more intrigued then he ever had been before.
“ I just have to show up at your doorstep, Sixer?”
Ford nods,” yes. Then I’ll take you for a night in the city, you can even pick where we get to eat. After that I would be more open to letting you use my body more often.” He smiles at the end, as if that would make Bill feel any better.
If looks could kill, Stanford knew he’d be dead where he stood. The look that Bill was giving him showed nothing but malice and contempt, Stanford figured this would happen at some point, Bill is a demon after all, but he still wasn’t prepared for when it actually did. When Bill went feral.
Bill looks at his own hand and then at Stanford, then back at his own hand and then at Stanford. He snaps his fingers.
Stanford wakes up, his neck felt sore like he has whiplash or something. He noticed fresh blood under his fingernails. He scrambles to look in a mirror or some other reflective surface, but all he found was that machine in the corner. It however worked for his purposes.
He sees that his neck is covered in scratch marks, and already bruising horribly. He notices a stinging in his knees and sees blood starting to leak through his jeans. His hands hurt from what he assumed to be how hard he was choking himself. He looked like he was just possessed and in all honesty he probably was, and he should have expected it.
He sighs, and left to go clean himself up, but just then he steps on… a pen. He kneels down painfully to pick up the pen, and then notices a piece of paper with a bloody hand print. He looks at his right hand and notices how bloody it seemed to be… it may have explained the scratches on his neck. He turns the paper over and gasps almost immediately, reeling from the pain.
Quickly drawn in the corner was Bill. Stanford smiles a little, this was something he had to document, a possession with other evidence besides mutilation, this was fantastic news. What was better was the few sentences next to the drawing of Bill.
It read,
“Dear Sixer
You have your deal
Don’t ever do that again
Next time you do you won’t be called Sixer
See you soon
Bill Cipher”
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toxicanonymity · 9 months
Note
Toxic what do you think raider!joel would do if he saw sweet pea in a lingerie set? Like say during a scout or something she secretly found it and thought it was pretty and wanted to surprise him one night? Like it’s somehow held up over time fairly well.
Feel like he’d go feral. (Please excuse my smutty as all hell gif I found - I couldn’t resist, javi reminds me of raider!Joel sometimes)
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Hhhhhh ty for this thot and image 🥵🥵 I agree, I think he would hardly be able to control himself.
I also couldn't help but think, hypothetically, what if she got the set by being bad? Like convincing Carter it was fine to take her to the mall 🤭 kind of like speakeasy (where joel is initially 🤨) but with raider you might need to be straightened out a bit. And if his possessiveness got triggered, uh oh.
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keirawantstocry · 7 months
Note
so uh, Hi it I 💋anon. Firstly, i feel you dont understand just How Much I Enjoy Your Writing, ofc i mentioned it to a friend (also im borderline Feral about it) . Secondly, eeeeeeeeeee very good writing very cool omg omg omg Kisses for You.
So to uh deal with/celebrate tubbo coming back Wrong, mayhaps tubbo going like, extremo with possessive shit? Like, barely letting them out of his sight (or just Not letting them out of sight, no matter what(that may be too stalkerish to be comfy to write tho so 乁⁠|⁠ ⁠・⁠ ⁠〰⁠ ⁠・⁠ ⁠|⁠ㄏ)) If theyre going somewhere hes Coming With. once again no real plot just Vibes srry.
(as Thoughts cause i have to say it Somewhere, I feel like Fit would handcuff ppl to something in the house to keep em there when Extremely extremely possessive)
hope youre having a good day :>
(also-🍓🍒🍎🍉🍑🍊🥭🍋🍐🥝🫐🍇)
EEEEEEEEEE got me smiling and kicking my feet im so honored you mentioned it to a friend and that you’re so feral <33333 i would absolutely love to write tubbo being a crazy freak for you!! (he would. i love the idea of fitpacbo all being crazy protective with each other) *mwah*
Pac had a fair amount of experiences with crazy men. He would be the first one to admit that, to admit that if he was being completely honest he liked it. The craze in the men’s eyes and their utter desperation for him. Some might call him a bit of an attention whore but he thought he deserved it. He was quite pretty after all. 
He felt the man before he saw him. Eyes trained on his back, trailing all over his body. Even without being able to see where they were coming from, something deep inside him recognized them as a safe gaze, a protecting one. 
Fit talked to him before he saw him either. It was a vague comment about feeling like he had been watched lately. 
Pac perked up. “Excuse me?”
Fit shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. I can take care of myself.” 
“Nao, nao, it’s not that. I’ve also felt eyes on me lately.” 
Fit immediately turned defensive, going into protective mode. “What? Fuck, no, I’m sticking with you from now on.” 
Pac shook his head lightly. “Nao, don’t worry about it, Fitch. I think… I think it’s good.” 
It took a lot of talking but eventually Fit gave in and let him go off by himself. The gaze was back, the burning heat trailing over his body. There was something addictive about being watched so closely, feeling that gaze stick to his skin like glue. In the back of his mind, he acknowledged that he was a bit of a freak. But he couldn’t bring himself to care when he finally caught a glimpse of Tubbo out of the corner of his eye. 
A knowing smile stretched across his face. 
He continued to let Tubbo watch. And watch he did. Every moment of every day, he was lurking silently in the shadows. After a few days of seeing poor Fit panic over the lack of knowledge, Pac told him what he had seen. Concern was the first emotion he felt. He wondered if Fit was going to approach Tubbo about what he had been doing. But he didn’t. 
He stared at Pac for a long moment. “I’m fine with that,” he said slowly and Pac grinned. 
“You like ‘em a little dangerous like me Fitchie?” 
Fit’s silence spoke wonders. 
Yeah he fucking liked them a little dangerous. 
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fluloa · 2 years
Note
Could you possibly write something with a human or Avatar reader + Jake and Tsu'tey?
I love the idea of the possessive love triangle that leads into competitive sex with the reader in the middle 🤭
juuuust thinking abt them fighting over you while they both fuck your brains out. screaming
warnings — threesome, degradation, praise, basically being used as a cocksleeve, overstim, bit of crying, both boys getting pussy drunk FERAL
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“Ooh— girl, that’s it. Squeeze just like that, sweetheart,” Jake dazes. You’re sat in his lap, legs whipped open and up in the air with his arms supporting them lazily, fucking you slow and steady with the fat of his cock.
Tsu’tey is in front of you, massaging and licking and kissing at your breasts like some juicy, ripe fruit that he just can’t get enough of. “What a whore of a woman,” he throatily grumbles. “Taking two men at the same time and enjoying it.”
You whine at his cruel words, head tilting back as his teeth grazes the skin of your left breast, then skimming up to swirl his hot tongue around your wet nipple.
“Oh, come on, Tsu’tey,” Jake pants, giving a lazy kiss to your sweat-glistened neck. “Bein’ a good woman for us, huh, sweet girl? Mmph, pussy’s good too, gonna have me cummin’ quick.”
Your hips twitch against him, choking out a moan when his cock hits a deeper spot than before.
“She’ll be full with your baby,” Tsu’tey spits out, giving the middle of your breasts a sloppy kiss. You whimper, walls convulsing around Jake and he laughs, the sound breathy and hot.
“Oh, she liked that. Like the thought of that, baby? Baby with a baby. Gonna be my baby with a baby, hm?” Jake groans, his fingers digging into the perky bone of your hips.
Tsu’tey grunts, shifting his hands to the curve of your waist. “My turn.”
“Nah-ah. Me first,” Jake insists, caging an arm over your tummy and digging his head into the back of your hair and into your hair to drag his point.
“You can have her mouth,” Tsu’tey bites back, attempting to reason but it doesn’t matter because he’s already snatching you from Jake, pulling you off his cock and you make a whine-filled noise at the loss of him.
“See? She’s crying for me. Aren’t you, my sweet girl?” Jake emphasises, a grin stretching at his mouth. Tsu’tey forcibly flips you on all fours, your face in line with Jake’s cock and your pulsing cunt in line with Tsu’tey’s body. The cold air bites at your opening, leaving you a panting, sloppy mess and both men appreciate the scene. Tsu’tey glides a hand along the curve of your ass, thumb pressing ruthlessly at your clit and it has you whining, practically begging for something bigger than that.
Then he grips at your hips, before teasing his cock around your entrance with a loose circle of his hips, and then he pushes in completely, filling you up heavy with the girth of his warm length. Jake watches the way your face contorts in pleasure, and a jealousy flares up his chest. “Hey, baby, eyes on me. You gonna take both of us? Gonna make me happy too?”
You nod lazily, head flopping down as your eyelashes flutter and you look so damn adorable and fuckable, he could bust a nut just at the view of you. But he doesn’t, and he grips your jaw, directing you to his angry tip that oozes clear, slightly glowed pre-cum.
“Looks good, huh?” Jake mumbles before begins to push your head lower, taking him into the sweet hot cavern of your mouth. “Ah, just suckle it, easy, easy… mm, there we go. Yeah, uh-huh, that’s a girl…”
Tsu’tey pushes the middle of your back down, creating an arch and he begins a pace, a pace that is tougher and less forgiving than Jake’s, a pace that has your elbows wobbling from underneath you. “Exkin," Tsu'tey breathes out. Tight.
"Warm too. Ain't that right? Huh, girl?" Jake tilts his head down to you, lowering you onto his cock pretending you can talk with it stuffed down your mouth. Tsu'tey slams his cock into your pussy, leading for a moan to erupt from your throat and vibrate against Jake's dick. He grunts, wiping hair out from your face and tucking it behind your ear. The sight of your perfect little lips wrapped tightly around his cock makes his head spin, makes it twitch in your mouth and as him threading his fingers through your tangled hair.
"Little moaning mess." Tsu'tey sighs, giving your thigh a slap and you jolt, dipping Jake's cock furthur down your mouth and the damp tip smacks the back of your throat. "So beautiful, and greedy, you're sucking me in hard. Loving my cock, mm?"
Jake chuckles under his breath, giving your chin a jolt upwards to see your face better. "She's lovin' mine more. Ain't that right, sweet girl? Say you love it more for me." He prods you, giving your cheek a single gentle pat like some sort of father giving his kid a piece of reassurance. You only produce a whimpery moan in response. "Taking that as a yes."
"I took it as a no," Tsu'tey murmurs and leans his head over to start trailing possessive kisses down the upper of your back, leaving a trail of spikey goosebumps on his way. "My cock is the one that's in her pussy."
Your ears perk up to the sound of a low growl vibrating from Jake's chest, and when you gather enough strength to look up, his eyes are darkened with fury. It is not easy to share a female amongst two men, especially if it's Jake and Tsu'tey. It's only a matter of time before things take an instinctive side. Only a matter of time before they start fighting over you.
You poor girl. You’re absolutely getting tossed around, and just trying to get a release when all they’re doing is snatching you away from the other man, and slipping their cocks into your sweet pussy before it gets whipped away from you again. And it’s a cycle. Jake’s cock is in you, and then nothing, then Tsu’tey’s is in you, and then nothing again. Acting like two vicious dogs fighting over a big, juicy bone.
“Had her first. She even wants me more, look at this face,” she grabs at your chin with his thick fingers, shoving your face up to Tsu’tey, shaking it a little and you can’t even bother to complain at the humiliation.
“That is a face of boredom. She needs me, not you!” Tsu’tey snaps, pushing Jake’s body and making him straight up fall onto his ass, straight into the dirt. As Tsu’tey prepares to take you from behind, fingers just grazing at your skin, Jake pounces onto him, tossing him aside. A hiss even leaves his mouth, caging your exhausted body in his arms as his dick slips half into your cunt.
You wonder if you’d ever be able to actually get fucked for more than ten seconds now.
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