#and the game punishing me for it is part of what sets me back | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rusmii · 1 month

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Ok so before I forget what i dreamed about PLEASE IM BEGGING U RESPOND PLEASE PLEASE AND IF U DON'T DO REQUEST PLEASE DO IT WHEN U OPEN REQUEST PLEASE SO I WILL ASK DIFFERENT CREATORS THIS BUT DIFFERENT ANIME OR GAME MALE CHARACTER SO.....

Female reader pls so

Yn is gf whit bsd men i want reaction of them when u set up a camera start recording and put her head between the legs and it goes like this:

'''Hello girls lets do a unboxin video "" and she starts uk unzipping undressing.....

What will they do will the men allow her to do it does one of them do reverse card and just does yn unboxin or dies he let her please i need Rat man AKA fyodor dazai and chuuya u can add other mennu want please IM BEGGING U I NEED ONE U PROBABLY KNOW WHAT DAZAI WILL DO WHAT HIS REACTION WILL BE OR WHATEVER CHARACTER U ADD U CAN MAKE PT2 OR PT3 PLEASE 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭(SORRY IF MY ENGLISH IS BAD ITS MY 3 LANGUAGE AND AHEM) HARD SMUT AND ""gives him or her a cookie 🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪

❝ HEY GIRLS! LET’S DO AN UNBOXING VIDEO 2DAY !!! ❞ — brat taming edition

( ⟡ ). fyodor, dazai, chuuya x FEM!bodied reader (afab / fem. names)

( 𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐨 ⟡ ). your boyfriend has had such a stressful week this month! with him ignoring your usual antics for attention—you stir the pot looking for ideas to get his attention back on you. what kind of stupid shit did you pull off this time to make him so mad, he has to fuck the brat outta you? wc;;; 2,560

( cws ⟡ ). just know this is hardcore brat taming erm… NOT EDITED/PROOFREAD, POSSIBLE OOC. no protection, riding/cowgirl, meanie fyodor, DOM!fyodor, long dick fyo, mentions of brat everywhere, poorly used russian translator, begging and pleading, P->I, pet names/nicknames, DOM!dazai, cunni/fem oral. , fingering, g-spot hitting yum, implied safe wording in dazais part, dirty talk, punishments, desk sex in both dazai and chuuyas part, bending over, DOM!chuuya, fucking u doggy, ass slapping, mean name calling (lovingly), rough fucking, kinda public sex, the thrill of getting caught, chuuya is a yap while having sex, he becomes a whiny bitch as he cums. ALL DIVIDERS/BANNERS MADE BY ME!!!!!

( ans ⟡). OH MY GOSH I ACTUALLY FINISHED THIS 💀 let's ignore the fact that dazais part is shit and that I forgot about the cameras after fyos pt... anyways hi love! I don't take reqs but I rlly liked this idea so I took it as a suggestion <3 dw abt ur english I understood it !!

if u liked this imma need to know why

#( FYODOR🪽. ) wc; 934

he sighs, ivan had been nagging him all week, the already stressful month not helping with his situation. because of this, fyodor has had less time to give you any sort of attention, only merely passing a small greeting when you two meet each other in bed after the days are over. it isn’t until today, did you have enough of his busy schedule; and ivan’s touchy hands feeling your man up. body kneeling in between his legs, you look up with your dashing eyes—words being uttered with such disgrace and impurity as he suppresses a big sigh. “hey girls! let’s do an unboxing video today!~” unzipping his fly slowly, your eyes never leave his; camera settled in the corner recording everything. including what he was about to do to his brat.

“lyubov',” fyodor lifts your chin with his fingers, angling it so that your little camera stunt was capturing your expression. he gives you a shallow thrust, dick hitting so deep, it almost kisses your cervix. “it’s rude to ignore your audience. why don’t i cut you some slack, hm?” he suggests, switching your positions. turning your head away from the camera, it was clear as day that you wanted to turn it off to hump his dick freely, but you knew damn well your boyfriend wasn’t as nice as he made himself out to be.

he taps your thigh, “ride me dorogoy.” like a chain of commands, you move your hips, pussy sliding his dick in and out without much effort. “fyo..~” you moan, sweat rolling down your head as his cock bullies it’s way deeper inside. “no, brats don’t get to talk. brats need to earn the approval of their master.”— fyodor talks, as if he were your owner. after hearing that you needed to earn your privilege back, you embarked on your journey to make this one hundred percent harder for him. “no,” you stop moving, resting your body on top of his lap.

knowing your play, fyodor doesn’t take your disobedience lightly. “[name], my dear. pleasure me or don’t get off at all.” he warns. it was your last warning before fyodor grabbed his book from the nightstand and left you to rot on his dick until you got the memo. panic slowly starts to settle in once you realize the weight of the situation. you’ve been longing for his attention for so long and you got it! but at what cost? fyodor clicks his tongue, giving you a minute left to decide your next choice.

you bite your lip, hips moving slowly against him as he sighs and grabs his book anyways. “wait! i’m - i’m riding you!” you try to smack the book away, a sharp glare and a thrust knocking you back into place. “hn~ fyodor! why are you reading?!” you slam down onto his dick, skin being smacked and mushed together by sweat was echoed through the bedroom. ignoring your pleas and begging, fyodor simply flips to the next page, fully aware of the tears threatening to glass your eyes up if he didn’t start praising you like his good girl in the next few minutes.

your hands rest on his stomach, pushing your body up every time you fall back down in hopes of getting his attention back on you. “hah..~ fyo~ please-please pay attention to me..” you whine, clenching your walls. that seemed to get a reaction out of him, breath pausing just for a second before he recomposes himself and shakily turns to the next page. “fyo-dor!~” — “sorry, i couldn’t hear you over your blabbering.” he shuts the book, placing it aside. “what did my brat beg of me?” your pace sped up, hips and legs trembling from your approaching orgasm that was just on the horizon.

you were so close, but it wasn’t enough. you needed him to fill and fuck every spot in your pussy—and you were getting more desperate by the second. “well? i’m not asking for much, parshivets.” he leans forward, elbows propped up to support himself better. “what did you say in your previous sentence?” he sets his hands on your waist. tears has already welled up in your eyes—his cock nudging against your g-spot. “go on, tell me.” his face was near yours, eyes staring at yours while he captured your lips into a kiss.

his hips snapped up, angling it so that he was able to hit your spot head on with each passing thrust. “ghnn!!~” you squeal into the kiss, stomach tying into knots as your arms fall limp. “say it,” he moves down to your neck, biting down near the crook of it. “ah! hmm~ i - please pay attention to me!” you gave in when he starts speeding up his thrusts. “ ‘m to me! pay attention t’mee!!~” body giving out, you threw your head back as drool spread down your lips. “ ‘m sorry! pay attention to me!~ pay attention - ghhoo!!!”

“ah~ such lewd sounds coming from you,” fyodor groans, the grip of his hands tightening a bit as he feels his balls starting to empty itself. “fuck -!” he cursed, pretty unexpectedly, “take it all lyubov'!” he moans—dick so deep you could feel his load seeping into your womb bit by bit. all it took was one final thrust to send you into oblivion, eyes rolling back it turns white, your throat dry from all the gasping you emitted.

he sighs, feeling his stress starting to alleviate itself post-orgasm. “[name]? maybe you were right. maybe i do like this little bratty side of you—maybe i should start ignoring you more often, maybe-“ — “fyodor, no.”

#( DAZAI🪽. ) wc; 729

dazai slams the stack of papers onto his desk, the mental pressure of everything getting too overwhelming for him. this month has been pretty stressful, with this week’s case biting him in the ass. dazai swore that he would ditch work to leave it all to atsushi and kunikida, but unfortunately he was caught sneaking out the back by the latter. his punishment was to finish up everyone’s end of the month report and he was stuck in the office during late nights. you, being a clerk but also his girlfriend, decided that enough was enough, and that you needed his attention back on you—all huffy and displeased when he swats your hands away from his body. opting to go the difficult route, you push yourself under the desks and in between his legs, dazai’s wide eyes not expecting what you were about to say next. “hey girls!~ let’s do an unboxing videooo!!” you smirk, sliding the zip down to reveal his hardening cock inside his boxers.

your back slammed onto his desk, all papers and stationary thrown off in a hurry. you wince, the wood hitting you hard. “aw! had i known that my sweet little brat was in such a desperate headspace, i would’ve folded much sooner~” he sang, voice not matching the mischief in his smile. by now, his face was near your crotch—skirt hiked up as he pressed his fingers on the band of your underwear. “hey [name]’s friends! let’s do an unboxing video, hm?~” he chirps, dragging the piece of cloth down one leg, showing your vulva in full display. “look, girls! my girl is so wet!” he flicks your clit, not minding your flinch one bit.

“say… [name]?” dazai inquires, lips only inches away from your folds. his tongue drags across your pussy—from bottom to top. “mhmn~ what?” you huff out in pleasure, frustration agitating your sex from the lack of stimulation. “mm, nothing. just needed to make sure you were still with me,” he jokes, getting himself comfortable on his knees and securing your legs into his arms. “mmm’kay! gonna start, you better not move an inch or else.” after giving you his final warning and conditions, dazai starts going to town on your pussy. he starts by giving your clit tiny kisses before he sticks his tongue inside your folds.

arching your back, you let a moan ripple out, “fuck! samu!~” bunching his hair into your fists, dazai groans—tongue dipping inside your cunt. rotating between your clit and pussy, dazai doesn’t spare a single second on air, not caring about his dwindling oxygen levels. breathing can wait, his main goal was to get you to cum as fast as he can—attempting to set a new record for you both. “osamu! i- hold on~” you catch onto his little game, trying to pry his face off your crotch. intertwining his hands with yours, dazai traps it in his.

“no, my love..” he sighs, “you’ve already been too much of an attention whore earlier today. we don’t need more of your attitude right now.” dazai, now a little annoyed by your lack of compliance, decides that instead of edging, he’s going to overstimulate you until you’re crying and begging for his mercy. “lovely dear,” he starts. you feel the gears shift in your head as you realize your mistake; moving. “i’ve let you off the hook once, but i see.. you’re still repeating old habits.” slapping your pussy, you yelp, not expecting the force of the slap to be so harsh. “ow! what the fuck osamu?!-”

“nu-uh,” he cuts you off, his fingers replacing the empty loss inside your cunt. “ah!- osamu..!~” you completely change up your tune. the soft twisting of his fingers gets your brain muddled within seconds, a slight force pressing itself around your g-spot. “let's switch up our usual punishments for tonight.” he suggests, thumb rubbing your clit gently. dazai curls his fingers, making sure to angle it in a way that has you drooling. “we're going to stay in the office for overtime, and you'll cum on my tongue until sunrise.”

with his conditions set in stone, you knew you had fucked up by seeing his wicked smile. “you know what to say if you need me to stop.” in one swift motion, dazai is already lapping at your cunt with his hands pushing on your knees

#( CHUUYA🪽. ) wc; 897

chuuya didn't have time to entertain your little musings recently. it's not like he wanted to ignore you, trust him—he really didn't, but sometimes even time was out of his control and he was speeding against the clock to get this project done in time. having enough of him ignoring you, you stay beside him, chuuya thinking that you were just idly sitting next to him as a good support. but in truth, you already had a trick up your sleeve. sinking to the floor, you have your hands on his lap as you unzip his fly with an innocent expression on your face. “good evening girls! let's do an unboxing vid today!~” you giggle to yourself as chuuyas shocked expression morphs into that of irritation. getting up, he leaves you be—unfortunately for him, you had a plan b. slapping his ass hard, you give him a smooch before making a run for it down the hall, with your boyfriend loudly shouting at you to ‘get your ass back here’.

his hands knead the plush of your ass, his strong and veiny hands handling you roughly with some sort of care to it. “fucking bitch.” he mutters under his breath, bending you over his desk. “you didn't need to go the extra mile for my attention, but here you are,” chuuya unbuckles his belt. he pushes up your skirt, laughing in mockery when he sees the wet patch sticking on your underwear. “damn, couldn't wait huh? what? did you finger yourself before acting up?”

not waiting for an answer, he slaps your ass. the stinging pain making you bite your lip. “talkin’ to ya’, don't ignore me.” he pushes his boxers down to expose his rock-hard dick, tip leaking precum and all. he rubs his dick in the crack of your ass, asking if you could feel the effect you had on him. “yes - ah!- hu-hurry…” a shake breath left your lips as you feel the redhead align himself up with your hole. chuuya leans down, “y'know what to say, right sweets?” he whispers into your ear. nodding your head, you push your ass onto his crotch.

after receiving your consent, chuuyas hips slammed into yours—a loud moan rippling out of you both. “fuuuck,” he groans. “ahnn!~ haa..” trembling a bit, your hands latched to the edge of his desk. without wasting a single second to spare, chuuya starts humping you like a bitch in heat. pretty ironic considering his previous name calling from earlier. “hgn! chu - ah!~ chuchu!” you moan his name without shame. chuuya grunts, shoving your head into his desk. “dammit - fuck. shut up!” he shouts just barely above a whisper.

“you want my men to hear how much of a slut you are?” he questions, thrusts speeding up with each word. you don't have any time to breathe by how chuuya us knocking the wind out of your lungs every second. “to hear all your moans - when they already saw you act like an absolute porno bitch.” he grabs ahold of your hair and bundles it up into his palm. pulling you up, chuuya forces you to look at the slightly cracked open door.

“see that?” his voice is hushed, a huge contrast to your bitten muffles. “they won't even need to walk in, all they need'a do is walk by.” chuuya slaps your ass, “to see how much of an absolute cock slut you are for me.” you squeal when chuuya hits that certain spot inside you, legs kicking the ground as you try to sustain what's little left of yourself before you went full-blown whore for him. “chu!~ ghnn!!gonna!!~ mm! I'm gonna-cumm!”

chuuyas dick curves so perfectly inside you, the tip of his dick punching your g-spot and drags along it as he slides in and out of your cunt. “naaah, brats don't get to cum. hold it or don't cum at all.” he orders, hips not slowing down one bit despite his notion. “c-cant!!” you try to explain to him, your orgasm reaching its limit. chuuya doesn't listen however, your mindless blabber can be saved for when you're actually fucked dumb.

“you can,” he supports himself using one arm while his free hand wraps itself under your stomach, feeling his dick bulge your stomach. “wait for me dolly, alright?” he groans, his own high building up as soon as you whine so beautifully underneath him. you shake your head, cunt starting to burst glitter everywhere. “ ‘m sorry! ‘m soorrry!! sorrryyy!!!~” he hears you squeal in anticipation, dick nestled onto your spot as he grinds into you.

“aha~ shit pretty girl. yer’ still so fuck-ghn!- fuck, tight~” chuuyas breath is heavy, he sounds exhausted but you knew better than to believe that. he stamina was no joke and you could testify first hand to that. his hands grip your hips hard, thrusting so aggressively, you think he's going to drag the uterus out with him. “gunnacum-cumcum~ cumming - shit!~ [name]!!~” he moans your name rather loudly—hypocrite much. as he cums, chuuya bit your shoulder blade, hips stilling inside your pussy once white ropes shoot inside thick and creamy.

“fucking hell pretty - ‘m so sorry,” he whines into your shoulder, subtly rutting into you to ride out his high. “you're so pretty. my good girl, can't ever be mad at you.”—again, such a stark contrast to his earlier behavior towards you.

@rusmii 2024 . do not do the basic copy right shit pls.

taglist;;; @luvan1 @bfdazai @asqmi @squigglewigglewoo @liviash @doonifox @ishqani @briars-castle @iheartpieck @ezelium @little-miss-chaoss @kurolumiis

#𝙇𝙐𝙑 𝙍𝙐𝙉𝙄💕#I LIKED FHE CONCEPT #i’m sorry i couldn’t execute it better 😭😭😭#fyodor x reader #chuuya x reader #dazai x reader #fyodor smut #chuuya smut #dazai smut #bsd x reader #bsd smut #...𝗗𝗜𝗥𝗧𝗬 𝗧𝗔𝗟𝗞 <//3 #𝙇𝙐𝙑𝙈𝘼𝙄𝙇𝙎💌

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bangtanflirt · 1 month

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(Un)natural Instincts (Part 12)

*Series taglist is closed.

angst, fluff, smut

Pairings: OT7 x Fem Reader, Human CEO Reader, Human Assistant Yoongi, Wolf Hybrids Joon, Jin, Hobi, Jimin, Tae, and Kook.

Basic premise: You and your assistant end up rescuing six wolf hybrids. No part of the process is easy.

Part 1 > Part 2 > Part 3 > Part 4 > Part 5 > Part 6 > Part 7 > Part 8 > Part 9 > Part 10 > Part 11 > Part 12

General Warnings: Hybrid abuse and lab experimentation, drugs, hybrids as second-class citizens/owned property (Minors DNI, 18+ content)

Specific Warnings: discussions around SA triggers (mainly boundary setting, not angsty), one brief mention of a gunshot, gunshot wound, fear of punishments, hints to street crime violence, vague hints to smut

____

Hoseok watches as Taehyung gets lost in the painting, fascinated by how he repeatedly goes back and fixes each detail. It’s endearing, watching him bite his bottom lip in concentration.

“What’s that stuff you’re adding to the paint?”

“Poppyseed oil. It makes the paint dry slower.”

“You want it to dry slower?”

The younger one nods, “This way I can retouch whatever needs to be fixed without worrying about it drying.”

He hands his hyung the brush in his hand, which Hoseok swirls into the paint thinner before handing back clean.

“I didn’t know you could add stuff to the paint like that.”

“They’re called mediums. There's fast-drying ones too, which I’ll be using for the clothes and hair since I want to work in lots of separate layers for those.”

“This is already all too complicated for me.” Hoseok laughs, preferring to mindlessly watch the paint go down than think about drying times and layers.

Taehyung laughs, leaning in to give his hyung a peck on the cheek.

Jimin walks in at the exact time, smiling fondly at the scene. He brings in a platter of freshly cut fruit, most of which are Taehyung’s favorites.

“Fruit delivery!”

Hoseok brings the boy close, holding him by the waist as he opens his mouth for a piece. Taehyung follows, stopping his brushwork to be fed.

“How much longer until the painting’s done?” Jimin asks while popping a cut strawberry into the younger wolf’s mouth.

Taehyung holds up three fingers, mouth too distracted by the sweet fruit to speak.

“Three days?”

He nods.

“So three more days until you stop cooping up in here and pay more attention to me,” Jimin pouts.

“Are you actually getting jealous of Y/N’s late grandmother?” Taehyung teases, causing Hoseok to almost choke on a grape laughing.

It’s the sound again. The sound of Hoseok laughing. He seems completely oblivious as to how much it affects his packmates—how much love it fills in their hearts.

___

Jin reaches for Namjoon’s hand, attempting to soothe the worried wolf as they both wait for Jungkook to come out from his bath.

This isn’t going to be easy.

Joon says with furrowed brows alone.

He’s going to hate this.

Jin agrees with a light squeeze to his packmate’s fingers.

It wouldn’t be hard to convince an outsider that Jin and Namjoon can, in fact, read each other’s minds. Wouldn’t take much convincing at all, with how well the two communicate with just looks. But there’s no mind-reading abilities at play, just years of understanding each other.

They were the first two members of the pack, after all.

Namjoon still remembers the goosebumps on his arms when he first met Jin—it was the first time he’d ever felt the pull of a pack bond. A rush of adrenaline, serotonin, and dopamine all creating a buzzing cocktail in his body when the older wolf smiled his way.

Jin wasn’t innocent either, he knew he was riling the usually-poised Alpha up the second he looked at him. It was a fun game, teasing and taunting the big bad wolf until he was taught a lesson behind some shabby hybrid bar neither of them remember the name of anymore.

Namjoon's mind wanders back to that night, amused at the idea of telling his younger self that he’d be starting his forever family with that gorgeous man he met in a rundown dive bar—that four more wonderful hybrids would walk into their life and make them complete.

He doesn’t think he’d tell his younger version about the lab. He wouldn’t want to know.

The bathroom door opens, and both pairs of wolf eyes focus in on the youngest.

“Hey Koo” Jin says in his sweetest tone.

Jungkook flashes a toothy grin to his packmates, shuffling over to give both a chaste kiss on the lips.

“We were actually waiting for you pup, wanted to talk to you about something.”

Namjoon’s solemn tone isn’t lost on the wolf, putting him on edge as he takes his place opposite them on the bed.

“Is something wrong?” His eyes nervously dart between the two older ones.

Jin decides to take the lead, going in with as much tact as possible.

“First of all, we just want to say how happy we are that the hormones effects are wearing off on you. It’s great seeing you be yourself again...”

Namjoon jumps in, feeling Jin’s nervousness take over, “…but we do have to be mindful of our situation pup. Pushing away y/n isn’t going to do us any favors here.”

“Or Yoongi.” Jin adds.

Jungkook almost rolls his eyes, but he manages to hold back.

“I’ll behave.” He grits out halfheartedly.

“I’m going to need you to be more convincing than that Koo.”

The wolf glares at his Alpha, a sign of defiance Namjoon is not in the mood to entertain.

“Stop being bratty before I spank it out of you pup.”

Jungkook’s gaze changes in an instant. The challenging glint in his eyes is replaced with something far more devastating—hurt. Jin’s hands reach for Namjoon’s shoulder, pulling him back before the situation escalates even more.

“Why stop at a spanking? Might as well put the Obedience collar back on so you can have the docile and well behaved pup you want so badly.”

He doesn’t wait to be dismissed, almost running out of the room before the other two can see his glossy eyes.

Jin lets out a dejected sigh, “You shouldn’t have brought up punishment baby.”

Namjoon knew it was a mistake the second the words left his mouth, but it was already too late then.

“I-I know…it was just instinct.” Guilt overtakes his features, regretting not thinking twice before speaking.

The moment Jungkook looked at him with that defiant stare, he couldn’t help but respond in the way he had a thousand times before the lab. Back when punishments were just a tool for an Alpha to reign in a bratty wolf—not synonymous with physical and psychological torture.

He knows he can’t discipline his pack the way other Alphas do anymore, not when they’ve had enough punishments to last three lifetimes.

Jin tugs on the younger wolf’s sleeve, pulling him back to Earth, “Go apologize and make it up to him.”

“What if he wants space from me?”

“We’re talking about Jungkook here, your clingiest pup.”

Jin isn’t wrong. Jungkook isn’t the type to want to be left alone when he’s upset.

Namjoon follows the scent trail carefully, grimacing at the smell of salt mixed into Jungkook’s signature vanilla. Salt meant tears, and tears meant his pup was cooping himself up in some corner and sobbing. It doesn’t take the Alpha long to find which corner exactly, as the not-so-small wolf can’t exactly hide behind a dresser the way he thinks he can. But that doesn’t stop him from trying—bundled up with his knees to his chest in one of the spare bedrooms.

“Koo, sweetheart…” He keeps his voice soft.

Jungkook simply sniffles in response, not daring to look up with the wet streaks on his face. If this was Taehyung or Jimin, he’d have heard a “go away” by now. But not his Koo. Despite his willful attitude, there’s nothing Jungkook wants more than to be babied when he’s crying.

Namjoon cautiously sits in front of the boy, leaving space to keep their bodies from touching.

“Hey pup, can you look at me please.”

With his face still buried in his knees, the wolf simply shakes his head in refusal.

“I’m sorry about what I said Koo. I shouldn’t have brought up punishment…and the last thing I want is for you—or anyone—to be on those drugs again.”

“You’re lying.” Jungkook finally raises his head, eyes watery and puffy, “I was easier to deal with when I had the collar on. I know it. You know it. Everybody knows it. Hell, even I wish I could turn off all these thoughts and just behave. But I can’t…that’s not me.” His voice breaks towards the end, sobs threatening to spill from his throat.

Panic flashes on Namjoon’s face, composed demeanor becoming harder to maintain as Jungkook lays all his insecurities bare. There’s a quiet rage bubbling in his stomach—pointed a little at Kang but mainly at himself. Rage for letting Jungkook’s self esteem get to this point.

He knew from the day that Jungkook came into their lives that he’d need to be extra careful with him. Unlike the others, who jumped eagerly into his arms at the promise of a pack bond, his youngest pup was nothing but stand offish and distrustful for months.

It’s not hard to see how little love Jungkook has known prior to the pack, but things aren’t supposed to be like that anymore. Namjoon knows it’s naïve to think that all of Jungkook’s scars would be healed by now—knowing just how many he has—but wishful thinking got the better of him.

The boy in front of him looks just as insecure as he did when they first met. Except he’s not hiding it with sarcastic remarks and cold stares anymore…at least not to his packmates.

Namjoon makes sure to not let his frustration show in his words, needing to be as calm as possible to not spook the distressed boy.

“But this you is the one we fell in love with baby, how could we ever prefer any other version over it? I’ll admit you’re not the easiest pup from time to time, but I’d rather you be the most difficult wolf in the world than put that collar back on you.”

“Then why do you keep taking y/n’s side? She wants me back on the collar. I can tell. Wants me to be the sweet sweet angel they brainwashed me into being.”

“She doesn’t want you on the collar either Koo, she just doesn’t know this version of you…and you aren’t exactly letting her in either—which I know is hard for you, I understand it’s asking a lot, but I’m not doing this because I’m taking her side. I just think we have an actual shot of being happy here. You trust me, don’t you baby?”

Jungkook nods. No matter how upset he is, it’s instinct to nod when Namjoon asks that question. Of course he trusts his Alpha. He’d follow Namjoon to the ends of the world if he asked him to.

“I…I’ll try. But please…d-don’t punish me if I c-can’t.” The last part is whispered, as if it’s a shameful declaration. It is, to some extent, shameful for Jungkook to admit—that he shivers at the mention of the tamest punishments now.

Namjoon’s heart drops to his stomach at the helpless bundle of nerves in front of him.

“I won’t baby. I promise. Will you please come to me?”

Jungkook doesn’t waste time to scoot his way over, making himself small as he seeks safety in Namjoon’s embrace. Namjoon breathes a bit lighter, relieved at Jungkook’s lack of hesitation—the last thing he wants is his pup to be wary of him.

___

Hoseok looks over from one brunette to the other, both fidgeting as they try to find their words.

“What is it pups?”

Jimin clears his throat, tightening his hold on Taehyung’s arm before speaking up.

“Um..we just wanted to ask…” no matter how hard he tries, he can’t get the words out, “it’s nothing hyung! Forget about it.”

Taehyung, although disappointed, follows in understanding. The two are ready to retreat, but their hyung isn’t having any of that.

“Wait!” their hyung pouts, not wanting to be left out, “whatever it is, you can ask me.”

“It’s selfish” Taehyung takes the words out of Jimin’s mouth.

Hoseok raises a brow, waiting for further explanation only to be met with an awkward silence.

“Since when have you two ever thought twice before asking me for things?”

It’s true. They normally didn’t hesitate to ask their Hobi hyung for whatever they wanted. Why would they? He was their hyung and they were his precious pups to spoil.

But this wasn’t a normal situation.

“Whatever it is, I won’t get mad. You know I never get mad at you guys.”

Jimin wishes Hobi didn’t add that part, as it only makes him feel more gross in the moment,

“Fuck, I can’t do it. Please, let’s all drop this.”

Hoseok, however, isn’t ready to drop the subject.

“What could it possibly be that you’re so scare—” he stops as soon as the realization hits.

Truthfully, he’s been preparing for this conversation. With everyone else going back to normal, Hoseok knew it was just a matter of time before intimacy would come back into the equation for the rest of them.

“Oh pups, you don’t have to worry about me. I’ll be fine, really.”

Jimin raises a brow, wanting to make sure everyone’s on the same page. Hoseok continues on, assuring them that he isn’t misunderstanding the situation.

“If we’re being completely honest, I’m still not comfortable with the topic. There’s still a lot I need to work through to handle triggers around it, but whatever anyone else does is fine as long as I’m not asked to be part of it.”

“A-are you sure? With you tuning into your hybrid he—”

“I don’t tune in to anything in the house. Really guys, it’s fine! The only thing that’ll make me feel bad is if you hold yourselves back because of me.”

“We don’t want you just saying that for our sake hyung.”

Hoseok shakes his head with surety, “I’m not. As long as it’s away from me, I don’t mind.”

He punctuates with a smile, ruffling Tae’s hair to lighten the mood. It works on Taehyung, but Jimin’s brows are still furrowed.

“What about during our heats? Will you be okay next month?”

“I’ve talked to Y/N and Yoongi about it already. I’ll be staying with them at Yoongi’s place, but we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. Right now, I’m telling you that I’m more than okay. Please don’t walk on eggshells around me.”

Jimin nods, deciding it best to trust his hyung’s judgement. Hoseok knows what’s best for himself, and it’s not Jimin’s place to decide what should and shouldn’t bother the older wolf.

___

You take a step back, huffing at your sixth failed attempt before diving back in.

You’re Shin Y/N.

You’ve made businessmen shake in their boots at the sound of your heels clicking. You’ve revived dying companies with one meeting. So why can’t you move this pesky little bookshelf to the other side of your office?

It’s been over fifteen minutes, and you can’t get the thing to budge at all. However, if it’s one thing you are, it’s stubborn. So you close your eyes and focus all your energy on pushing. To your surprise, the wooden shelf actually starts sliding this time. Ecstatic, you open your eyes to navigate the room--only to be met with the last sight you’re expecting to see.

It’s Jungkook, covered head to toe in black, with a detached expression you can’t quite read. He nonchalantly drags the piece of furniture, waiting for you to tell him where to stop.

“Right there is fine.”

He props it next to the standing lamp, making sure it’s flush against the wall before letting go.

“Thank you.” You want to say more, but you’re afraid of saying something wrong.

“Whatever.” He stuffs his fists in his hoodie before heading towards the door.

“Wait!” You panic, realizing you said that out loud. You don’t want him to leave but have no clue what to say next. Instinctively, you say the first thing that comes to your mind.

“You’ve been wearing that hoodie a lot…I can buy you more if you like—”

“No thank you.”

Your shoulders shrink. You know it’s not right, but throwing money at your problems has worked out pretty well for you thus far. Not to mention, it’s a lot easier than being emotionally vulnerable. But if money wasn’t going to solve this, your hand’s been forced to try the other way.

“I miss you.”

The words hang heavy in the air, with your fear of being rejected growing by the minute.

The wolf simply scoffs.

“Miss me? You mean you miss having a little pet following all your commands.”

You take a deep breath, reminding yourself of Namjoon’s words to keep composure.

Relax. Jungkook’s a bit difficult to win over, but it’s not impossible. He’s still a sweetheart once he lets you in—really lets you in, without the drugs making him.

Drugs or no drugs, you’ve seen the way he looks at his Alpha with stars in his eyes, or the way he pouts to his Jin hyung when he wants something. Despite the cold front he’s put up with you, he’s as warm as ever to his packmates. There’s still hope as long as you keep trying.

“That’s not true, Jungkook. You can’t just decide what I’ve been feeling and make your judgements based on that. It’s not fair.”

He narrows his eyes, bringing his arms up across his chest in a defensive stance.

“You can’t miss what you’ve never known.”

“I miss you telling me your favorite parts of the shows you’ve watched…or ranking the snacks in the pantry…or just coming by to tell me about your day. Was all of that really just the drugs? Would the real you really be so miserable hanging out with me? Do you hate me that much?”

You try to hold it back, but your eyes start watering right as you say the last sentence. Luckily, no tears spill.

Jungkook is taken aback nonetheless, not expecting the answer he got. His eyes soften up ever so slightly, but not enough to douse the fire of unease you’re burning under.

“I don’t hate you,” he huffs, playing with where his hands meet inside the hoodie instead of meeting your gaze, “and I like living here. But I’m not going to wait for you at the door like a little puppy anymore. And I’m not going to expect you to treat me like my packmates do. You’re not a part of our pack.”

He’s not giving you a lot, but you’re grasping tight at the little assurance he does give. For now, a “I don’t hate you” seems like the best thing you’re going to get from him—and you’re not in any position to complain.

“I understand!” This time, you seem like the lost little puppy, wagging your tail for any approval you can get, “I’m not trying to impose on your pack. I know it’s not my place. I just…want to be friends? Whenever you’re ready to consider me one, I’ll be here.”

You don’t give him any time to respond, as the tears threatening to spill down have you brushing past before the hybrid fully processes what just happened.

Friend.

Somewhere between packmate and total stranger.

Jungkook’s never had a real one before.

He’d never had friends or family before the pack. Just an abandoned stray moving from one back alley to the next. The last time someone asked him to be “friends” was a couple months after he’d just turned eighteen—a wealthy Alpha looking for a fighter to make money off of. He’d agreed, desperate to get off the streets. It wasn’t a bad gig, but it didn’t exactly leave him feeling good either.

Days of nonstop practicing, and nights of nonstop fighting, all so his “friend” could squeeze every last dollar from the matches.

The other fighters didn’t want anything to do with him, with his constant wins getting on everyone else’s nerves. And everyone else in town didn’t want anything to do with him either, with his bloodied and bruised appearance not doing any favors. He got used to the routine—accepted that real friends weren’t in his cards, and that there was probably no pack waiting for him. A true lone wolf.

And he would’ve lived his entire life that way if his last opponent wasn’t such a sore loser. Well, specifically, if his sponsor wasn’t such a sore loser. He still flinches at the memory of being chased down those alleys, hearing gunshots followed by car alarms and shattering glass. It was ten on one, with half of them being wolves he’d defeated in the ring—all working to get their sponsor his money back.

He’d barely managed to escape, gripping where a bullet wound grazed his bloody leg, as he ran without looking back. He only stopped running when the adrenaline couldn’t keep him going any longer, finding himself lost in a neighboring town when his knees finally gave in.

That’s the first time he met Jimin and Taehyung, fingers interlocked and lost in each other’s company. They would’ve missed him if the streetlamp had fully gone out, but thankfully, the little flicker in the night was enough for Jimin’s eyes to meet that of the injured wolf.

If he wasn’t in searing pain, he would’ve felt the pull of the pack bond right when the other two did. But he couldn’t feel anything other than where the bullet ever-so-slightly missed, causing him to kick and scream the entire time the wolves tried to help.

“Relax, please relax. We need to stop the bleeding. What’s your name?”

“Get the fuck away from me. I swear to God I’ll break your bones if you keep touching me.”

Saying he was difficult is an understatement, but the two managed to pin him down just long enough to give emergency first aid.

That was the beginning of the long and messy road to adjusting Jungkook to the pack, navigating his hot temper and short fuse as the rest assured him the pull wasn’t temporary—that this pack, this family, would embrace him with enough love and tenderness to make up for all the years he’d been alone.

To you, to everyone outside, this Jungkook might seem difficult…but only he and his pack know just how gentle he is compared to his old self.

But the idea of this not being enough—of having to compete with the docile imitation of himself that the hormones made him—it was terrifying.

You said you wanted to be friends, but could anyone not bound by a pack bond truly accept Jungkook for the way he is? When there’s really nothing in it for them?

That’s never happened before.

____

A/N: It's good to be back!!!

Permanent Taglist: @skyys-universee @morelovefortn @seagulljk @shadowyjellyfishfest @m4gg13-g @wittyreader

Series Taglist [CLOSED]: @welcometomyworld13 @kalala22 @fxirytaetae @btsfluffsworld @belikejk @shycreationdreamland @danielle143 @singukieee @blackrockshooter780 @g-b-artist @i-have-no-life-charlie @sopemee @no-regrets-just-confusion @acciocriativity @ldysmfrst @amara-mars @caelumwrites @estrellaburnxd @borahaetelevision @on-1ce @fuckthinking @jaiele

#bts hybrid au #bts hybrid x reader #bts ot7 poly #ot7 x reader #bts angst #bts smut #bts fluff #hurt/comfort

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little-diable · 3 months

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Carnal Sin - Priest!Tom Riddle (smut)

I desperately needed to get this out of my system, I ain't sorry for that. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: The reader's mother had begged Priest Riddle to let the reader join his bible study, a bratty woman who wanted to make his life a living hell. Now it was time to finally teach her a lesson.

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, oral (m), face fucking, man handling, spanking, religious connotations, Tom being Tom

Pairing: Priest!Tom Riddle x fem!reader (2k words)

“How can you possibly believe that?” Her laughter echoed through the room, bouncing off the walls as if demons were carrying the sound. All eyes were focused on her, wide eyes that trembled with fear because of the blasphemous words she kept on speaking. But she didn’t care about them, didn’t even remember their names, no, all she cared about was the pair of dark pupils staring her down.

“Excuse me?” His voice was sharp, urged on by the need to put her in her place. All other eyes snapped back to him, lowering their gazes in fear of the priest who was known for punishing those who didn’t dare listen. But she didn’t fear him, taunting him whenever their paths crossed.

“Oh, don’t give me that. You and I both know you don’t believe in any of that yourself. Turning water into wine? That’s witchcraft, and witches should be burned, according to your little storybook at least.” Gasps followed her words, sounds that left (y/n) grinning as if she was the Devil herself, joining the bible study to make it a living hell for those who desperately clung to their belief. For a few seconds, he didn’t speak up, holding eye contact with her from his spot, but as she parted her lips to speak, once again set on laughing words she shouldn’t pronounce, he cleared his throat.

“We’ll end our session here, I need to have a word with (y/n), alone.” She tried not to pay the heat his words shot through her any attention, trying not to squeeze her thighs together as she watched him rise to her feet. Neither of them spoke a word as the others hurriedly left the room, closing the door to give the two some privacy. Her eyes didn’t leave his frame once, the tall figure she’d imagine whenever she let her hands wander, chasing that high she was desperate for. Priest Riddle was dangerously handsome, fooling anybody whenever he wasn’t wearing his collar.

And yet she knew it was nothing more than a game, a game whose rules he was making. But she had never been good at following rules, set on breaking them like branches snapping beneath her shoes.

“I wasn’t optimistic when your mother begged me to let you join, you know? I knew you’d only cause me more problems. But I promised your mother to try, to give you a chance. Well let me tell you, (y/n), I’ve never been a patient man. I think it’s time you learn a lesson.” The chuckle rumbling through her left him smirking, something she clearly didn’t understand fully to anticipate what he’d do to her tonight.

“A lesson? What, should I fall to my knees and pray ten Hail Mary’s?” He crossed the room towards (y/n) with fast steps, hand shooting out to grasp her throat before she could flinch away. A shaky gasp left her at the touch, feeling his cold rings burn into her skin. Priest Riddle stared her down as if she was now living through her last judgment, set on taking her down to hell with him.

“A prayer won’t help you no more, God doesn’t answer the calls of sinners like you. The only one you’ll pray to will be me.” She was forced to her feet for a second, lips parted to let an excited sigh leave her. This is what she had been working for, knowing that he would eventually give in, eventually cross that line he had sworn to stay away from. But even a priest had his enemies, the carnal sin calling his name in quiet hours.

“Let's hope your mouth knows what it’s doing. Onto your knees, let me fuck those bratty words out of you.” She could have sworn that his eyes grew darker as he spoke the words, watching her drop to her knees without a single protest leaving her. “I should have known, you’ll enjoy whatever I’m doing to you. It’s all about the power you think you have, forcing me to do something I promise I never would. Let me tell you, (y/n), even priests can beg for forgiveness, and forgiveness He shall always grant me.”

For the first time since meeting Priest Riddle, she felt some fear swapping through her, wondering if she was finally burning from the reckless play with fire. It was an unfamiliar sensation, yet so awfully exciting, she could only stare up at him with a smirk.

He did quick work of his trousers, freeing his hard cock from the confines of his clothes. He was beautiful, a man crafted by God, what a shame he was destined to hide away beneath the black suits he wore. (Y/n) followed his ringed fingers, how he grasped his cock to push himself closer to (y/n).

“Open that mouth of yours, let’s see how much you can take.” It was a dangerous game, and yet (y/n) had always lived for the thrill. She parted her lips, tongue exposed to his dark eyes. Within seconds he had forced his cock into her mouth, to the back of her throat. She gagged around him, had her vision instantly blurred by tears.

Without waiting for any commands, she hallowed her cheeks, letting her tongue explore his cock for a moment before he began to move. Priest Riddle’s ringed hand found the back of her head, holding her in place as he fucked her mouth, high on the sound of her gasps, chokes, sounds he’d forever remember. She was a pretty sacrifice, worth the trouble she had forced him through, that much he was certain of.

“How can there be no God when we get to experience something like this?” His raspy voice left her shuddering, words she could barely focus on, too concentrated on the feeling of his cock fucking her mouth. No other man had ever been this rough with her, and yet she knew that she had been addicted to Priest Riddle from the first day, hoping that they’d eventually end up like this.

“Such pretty sounds for a woman this dangerous, it’s amazing how you try to fool those around you.” He spat his words as he used more speed for his thrusts, enjoying her gasps a tad bit too much, wanting to force his cock down her throat. But he wouldn’t give in, no, he’d only give in when he was buried inside of her, fucking her into oblivion. Perhaps she’d find her way back to God when he showed her the entry to the pearly gates, torn between two worlds as he fucked her breathless.

Spit dripped from her chin, making a mess on the dark carpet she was kneeling on. She was desperate for some friction, trying to shuffle closer, and yet he didn’t allow her to go far, held in place by his tight grasp. Their eyes met, his full of danger, hers full of desperation, begging the man to finally pull her to her knees, to fuck her like she needed him to.

“Do you think you deserve to be touched? Do you think you deserve to cum? I should have known you’ll turn into a cock-hungry whore the second I touch you.” A gasp left (y/n) as he pulled away, forcing her to her feet seconds later. She was pushed towards the black leather couch, trying to sit down though it seemed as if she was too slow for him. With his hand finding its way back to her hair, Tom manhandled her down onto the couch, drawing an excited moan from (y/n).

“Open those legs, show me how wet you are from sucking my cock.” A whine left her at his words, legs spread to expose her soaked panties to him, hidden beneath her skirt. His cold fingers wandered up her legs, he shuffled her skirt up to her waist before he pushed her panties aside. The groan that left him at the sight of her bare cunt shot shudders down (y/n)’s spine, eyes close to falling shut. “Look at me, don’t you dare to even think of looking away.”

His palm came down onto her cunt, spanking the soft skin with more force than anticipated. (Y/n) choked on her gasps, eyes wide as she stared up at the smirking priest. Her lungs were aching, trying to hold onto her breath as she kept choking on the air flushing through her lungs, too excited to even speak up.

“I can’t wait to fuck you stupid, force you to take every inch.” Priest Riddle’s words were enough to leave her moaning and gasping as he flipped her around. He had her pressed against the armrest while he positioned himself behind her.

“I’m on the pill, just fuck me, please.” His raspy chuckles filled the room, leaving her walls clenching in anticipation. (Y/n) felt him brush the tip of his cock through her slit for a second before he pushed into her, her eyes instantly fell close, fingers tightening their grip on the armrest with her nails clawed into the fabric.

“God should strike you down for the sinful words you speak, allowing a man to fuck you because you’re selfish, wanting to give in.” She shuddered against him, unable to speak as he fucked her. His hips snapped against her behind with every thrust, forcing himself even deeper into her cunt, enjoying the way she felt wrapped around him all too tightly.

“Fuck, feels so good.” (Y/n) mumbled the words, not trusting herself to speak up, voice caught in the back of her throat as he fucked her breathless. This is what they have been warned of, the carnal sin, a feeling so intense only those who weren’t allowed to touch one were able to make one feel.

“And for that, you will submit to me from now on, you won’t go against me no more. You’re mine now, forever mine.” A sob clawed through (y/n), she didn’t understand the depth of the words he spoke, could only choke on a “Yes”, too focused on her high to overthink the consequences she’d have to face. Consequences of actions she had been desperate to go through with. Drunk on the feeling of her priest fucking her breathless.

“Oh God, I’m so close, don’t stop.” Her words left him chuckling, she felt him near her ear, growling the words that were about to roll off his tongue.

“God can’t help you now.” She choked on her breaths, eyes rolling into her head as she sneaked a hand down her body. Her bundle of nerves pulsed against her fingers, giving herself the last final push to fall over the edge. The white, blinding sensation shot through her, leaving (y/n) trembling as he kept fucking her.

His breaths grew shallow, she felt him twitch deep inside of her, about to cum with a devilish grin glued to his lips. (Y/n) had to cling to the couch, scared she’d faint from the intensity of her orgasm, unable to think straight as she was panting. The priest pulled out of her seconds before he came, painting her ass with his cum.

Wordlessly he pulled away to reach for a towel. He cleaned her with a hum leaving him, staring down at her and the fucked-out expression she wore. Only slowly did she dare to turn around, looking up at him with wide eyes. She didn’t flinch as he cupped her cheek, forcing his thumb down on her tongue for a second.

“I expect you back here tomorrow morning, don’t even dare to think that this was your only lesson.”

#Tom Riddle smut #priest fic #Tom Riddle imagine #Tom Riddle x reader #harry potter smut

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prettyobsessed · 3 months

Text

⋆。⋆💋⋆ Lace & Desire ⋆ ﾟ❤️‍🔥 (HOT AF)

☁︎/ pairings: Zayne / fem!reader ☾ / genre: smut [nsfw 18+, mdni] ₊˚ / tags: nsfw, super nsfw, no plot smut, mutual attraction, clit playing, masturbation, submissive y/n, dominant zayne, mentions of daddy, mentions of cum dumpster, mentions of slave, role-play, slightly/very rough sex, lots of teasing, fingering, unprotected sex, mouth job, hand job, kissing, clit stimulation, choking, lots of spanking, upstanding citizen position lol, creampie, cum inside, cum shot, mature sexual content ♡ / word count: 4.6k

₊⊹summary₊˚⊹

In her quiet apartment, the narrator decides to spice up the night by sending teasing photos to Zayne, igniting a thrilling game of seduction. As anticipation builds, she wonders how far he'll let her take it, knowing their quiet night will soon be electrified by their passionate tension. ﹌﹌﹌

‘Don't make me come there and punish you,’ he warned, igniting a thrilling rush of arousal within me. Zayne's challenge only served to heighten my excitement, and I responded with a final, enticing image—my back arched, showcasing my perky ass in all their glory. ‘56646. that’s my passcode. see you soon 😋’ I teased, unable to contain my anticipation.

𓍢ִ໋₊˚*ੈ♡⸝⸝⋆୧ ˙ As the clock ticked towards 9:38 PM on a Thursday night, the silence of my apartment seemed to amplify the dull ache of boredom settling in. With a sigh, I set aside my phone and glanced around the dimly lit room, the soft glow of lamplight casting long shadows across the walls. The stillness was palpable, broken only by the occasional distant rumble of passing cars outside.

Lost in the quietude, memories of Zayne flooded my mind—their intensity warming me from within. I couldn't shake the image of our passionate exchanges from a week ago, the heat of our desire lingering in the air like an intoxicating perfume. With a sudden spark of inspiration, I retrieved the new lingerie set I'd ordered online—a deep, lacey black ensemble that I knew would set Zayne's pulse racing.

Standing before the full-length mirror, I couldn't help but admire the way the lace hugged my curves, accentuating every contour with a tantalising allure. A mischievous thought danced at the edges of my consciousness—why not inject a little excitement into this mundane night? I knew Zayne's schedule like the back of my hand; no surgeries tonight, just a series of tedious meetings. The idea of inviting Zayne into my apartment, a space he'd never set foot in before, sent a thrill of anticipation coursing through me. We've only shared passionate moments in his space before, never mine. With a flicker of determination, I snapped a few provocative photos of myself in the lingerie and sent them off to Zayne, accompanied by a teasing message.

‘busy?’, I texted, attaching a suggestive image of myself with legs parted. "miss you so much, daddy” I added playfully, anticipating his reaction. His response was swift, his words carrying a hint of authority and desire. ‘You can’t do this to me right now. I’m in a meeting.’ Undeterred, I escalated the teasing, sending another photo—this time, straddling a snowman plushie, a playful nod to our shared fantasies.

I wanted to push his boundaries, to see how far he'd let me take this game of seduction. As the anticipation mounted, I couldn't help but wonder what Zayne's reaction would be. Would he succumb to the temptation, or would he resist my advances? Only time would tell, but one thing was certain—the quietude of this night was about to be shattered by the electrifying tension between us.

"Be a good girl and wait for me," Zayne's last text arrived, laden with promise, and I eagerly complied (or maybe not), my pulse racing with anticipation. In less than 30 minutes, I heard the familiar sound of the door unlocking, signalling Zayne's arrival. "Y/N…?" he called out my name, his voice tinged with anticipation. As he stepped into the room, his presence electrified the air, sending a shiver of anticipation down my spine. Dressed in his signature black collared shirt and sleek work pants, both my weakness, I knew I would falter sooner or later. But as of now, I had a mission to complete—to make him needy enough to beg me.

Meanwhile, I reclined on the bed, eyes closed, fingers tracing lazy circles on the delicate fabric of my thong. Beneath its embrace, my clit throbbed with anticipation, eagerly awaiting Zayne's touch. With practiced finesse, I reached for the vibrator beside me, teasing myself with its arousing vibrations, each movement imbued with a sense of anticipation. The room felt charged with erotic tension, a prelude to the passionate encounter about to unfold. “I told you to wait for me, didn’t I?” Zayne's voice stood before me, shattering the silence. His words sending a thrill of excitement racing through me. “I’m going to punish you,” he declared, his tone heavy with desire as he made his way to the sofa in the corner, his eyes fixed on me with unwavering intensity.

As he settled into the seat, a surge of defiance stirred within me. I didn’t want him to simply watch—I wanted to tease him, to punish him for not giving me the attention I craved. With a determined resolve, I continued to pleasure myself with the vibrator, each flick of my wrist a deliberate invitation for him to join me in the throes of passion. But Zayne had other plans. “I’m not gonna do anything to you,” he stated, his words dripping with promise. “I’m just gonna sit here and watch you play with yourself.” The challenge in his voice only fuelled my desire further. Determined, I continued pleasuring myself with the vibrator, allowing him to witness my torment. I intensified my movements, each stroke of the vibrator against my clit sending waves of pleasure coursing through me.

I could sense Zayne's gaze burning into me, his desire evident in the way he watched, but I refused to yield. I wanted him to go wild, to lose control and fuck me senselessly after this. The mere thought of his roughness, the way he might choke me while delivering spanks, drove me wild. I maintained the steady rhythm, circling my clit with the vibrator and moaning his name, intent on arousing him for the impending encounter.

My legs parted slightly as I continued to pleasure myself. I then pulled my thong to the side so that I could feel my vibrator even more intensely on my clit. I noticed him staring intensely at me from the sofa, his eyes tracing every movement, every expression, every curve accentuated by my lingerie. I knew he wanted to badly fuck me in it. The anticipation of his desire fuelling my own, I felt on the brink of climax just from his gaze alone.

As Zayne stood mere feet away, his imposing presence filled the room. With my left hand, I cupped my breast, teasingly pinching my erect nipple, while my right hand gripped the vibrator, its buzzing against my clit driving me relentlessly toward the brink of ecstasy. Moaning his name, I met his gaze, revelling in the power of my own pleasure. Each stroke, each caress, heightened the tension, propelling me toward release.

Riding the wave of my orgasm, I continued to chant Zayne's name, eagerly anticipating his touch later. My body hummed with electricity as I pressed the vibrator against my clit, prolonging the blissful sensation.

After savouring the peak of my orgasm, I rose from the bed, my limbs still tingling with pleasure. With deliberate grace, I began to crawl towards him, each movement purposeful, my hips swaying in a mesmerising rhythm. The air crackled with anticipation as I closed the distance between us, my eyes locked on his with unwavering intensity.

Once near enough, my hands ventured forward, exploring the fabric of his pants with feather-light touches. Zayne's hands remained on the armrest, unmoving. The material beneath my fingertips felt smooth and inviting, heightening my senses as I traced the contours of his thighs, inching closer to the throbbing arousal that awaited me.

In a kneeling position, I slowly began to caress his clothed erection with my lips, each kiss a tantalising tease. I could feel the heat radiating from him, his desire palpable in the air. With each stroke of my tongue, I could sense his control slipping, his restraint waning as he surrendered to the intoxicating pleasure coursing through him. Zayne looked hot and bothered, his desire evident in the way he watched me, his breathing growing heavier with each passing moment.

“Are you sure you just wanna sit and watch me play with your dick all by myself?” I teased, a playful pout playing on my lips. He stayed seated, his gaze never wavering, his desire palpable in the air between us. “Unbuckle my pants,” he commanded, his voice filled with authority. I did as he asked without hesitation, maintaining eye contact with him as I unbuckled his pants. “Now take it out and lick it,” he instructed, his voice laced with anticipation.

Each time my gaze fell upon his impressive member, I couldn't help but marvel at its sheer size and thickness, feeling a surge of excitement coursing through me. The anticipation of feeling him fill me up, stretching me to my limits, sent a thrill down my spine. With eager hands, I liberated his arousal from its confines, gently guiding it out from beneath the fabric of his pants. As I lowered his trousers for his comfort, I couldn't resist the urge to admire him fully exposed before me.

Coating his length with my saliva, I savoured the taste of him, relishing in the way he responded to my touch. His throbbing length stretched beyond the limits of my mouth, almost impossible to accommodate entirely. With each swirl of my tongue around his tip, his breath hitched in his throat, his desire evident in the intensity of his gaze. "You know how I like it sloppy. More spit," he demanded, his voice husky with need, his eyes dark with desire, urging me to indulge his every whim.

Following his commands, I coated his throbbing member with a liberal amount of saliva, my hand moving with purpose and urgency, driving him to the brink of ecstasy. "Yes, just like that, princess," he praised, his words dripping with desire, igniting a fiery need within me. The endearing term sent a rush of excitement coursing through me, amplifying my desire to please him in every way possible.

As I continued, I pushed myself beyond my limits, unable to stop gagging on his dick. His hands remained on the armrest, yet I could feel his reaction as I went deeper, my eyes rolling backward involuntarily. Zayne's response was palpable, a muttered 'fuck' slipping from his lips before he leaned forward, gently pulling my mouth away from his throbbing length.

With a sudden tug on my hair, he forced me to meet his gaze, his intensity heightened. "I can’t take it anymore, can't wait to mess you up," he whispered in my ear, his warm breath sending shivers down my neck. In response, I teased him playfully, biting my lower lip and meeting his gaze with a sultry look. "Why wait?"

He wasted no time, guiding my head to gag me with his dick once more, my eyes watery and drool cascading down my chin. “I love drooling on your cock,” I said to Zayne, the admission pushing him over the edge. With his patience wearing thin, he swiftly pulled up his pants before lifting me with practiced ease, settling me straddled on his lap. Purposeful strides carried us to the bed, where he positioned himself, and I found myself draped over his lap, anticipation pulsating with each passing second. Zayne's fingers trace intricate patterns over my clit, teasing and enticing me with each delicate touch. In the next instant, his hand shifts, grabbing my ass firmly before delivering a sharp spank that reverberates through the room, the sound echoing in the stillness.

The first sharp spank sent a jolt of ecstasy coursing through me, igniting an insatiable hunger. Suddenly, a mischievous idea sparked in my mind, and I decided to indulge in a bit of playful role-play, leveraging Zayne's profession as a doctor.

“I need more, Doctor Zayne” I pleaded while biting my lower lip, my voice dripping with desire— craving his touch like a potent drug. Zayne froze for a moment, his expression shifting from surprise to amusement. "This isn't covered by your insurance, y'know," he quipped, his tone playful yet commanding, before delivering another sharp but mighty spank on my ass.

I couldn't help but laugh at his response, the sound echoing in the room as I remained straddled over his lap, revelling in the playful banter between us. But then, in an instant, the mood shifted, and Zayne seamlessly reverted to his dominant stance, delivering another firm spank to my exposed flesh.

With each resounding spank, his voice low and commanding, he chastised me for my naughtiness, his words driving me to new heights of arousal. "So fucking naughty, pleasuring yourself in front of me," he growled, his hand delivering each punishing blow with precision. I squirmed beneath his touch, unable to contain the pleasure that surged through me with each impact. “Sending me pics while I’m at work, you love it when I’m distracted, don’t you?” with each word, he punctuated his statement with another firm spank, the impact sending waves of pleasure rippling through me.

A swift strike from his left hand landed on my ass, the sting on my ass was met with a subtle tightening of his grip around my neck, sending a thrilling jolt of excitement coursing through me. Involuntarily, my back arched in response, an instinctive reaction to the sensation.

I moaned once more, gasping for air, my body wavering but my determination to take control unwavering. As I attempted to shift my body, aiming to use his broad shoulders to lift myself up and straddle Zayne on his lap, a surge of futile resistance washed over me. Zayne's grip remained unyielding, firmly in control. Despite my efforts to regain dominance, he held me firmly in his grasp, each spank serving as a sharp reminder of my transgressions. "Do you think you can get away with this?" he questioned, his tone dripping with dominance. "Making me lose control and expecting things to go your way?" Each word was punctuated by another sharp spank, sending shockwaves of pleasure rippling through me. With each impact, my ass bounced, fueling his desire to deliver more.

“Answer me,” he commands, tugging at my hair, forcing me to meet his gaze. "No, daddy," I gasp, a shiver of anticipation coursing through me as another sharp spank lands, followed by his gentle touch to soothe the sting. “You’re going to do what I tell you, understood?” His voice is firm, demanding obedience. I nod eagerly, my body trembling with excitement and submission.

Before delving into anything more extreme, Zayne reminded me to use our safe word if things went too far. I assured him that I would, eager to trust in our mutual boundaries.

"Lay on your back and spread for me," he ordered, and without hesitation, I complied. His commands were my guide, and I willingly surrendered to his desires. As I lay before him, legs wide open, he joined me on the bed, positioning himself to fully admire my exposed form. Zayne lifted my legs, hovering them over my stomach, his gaze fixated on my glistening clit, still hidden and wet beneath the fabric of the lingerie.

With deliberate precision, he pushed the fabric of my thong aside, exposing my throbbing clit to his hungry gaze. Without a moment's hesitation, he delivered a powerful spank across my exposed flesh, the sensation simultaneously arousing and electrifying.

"That's what you get for distracting me,” he admonished, his hand returning to soothe the sting he had caused. Adjusting my position slightly, he seized my breasts, eliciting a sharp gasp as he pulled down my lingerie bra to pinch my nipples and deliver a punishing slap across my breasts and then to my clit.

“That’s what you get for teasing me,” he growled, his touch alternating between punishment and pleasure, each sensation driving me closer to the edge of ecstasy. With each slap of his hand against my swollen clit, the intensity of my desire surged, propelled by the knowledge that I was at his mercy. And as he continued to tease and torment me, I surrendered completely to the intoxicating power of his dominance.

“And that,” he continued, his voice husky with desire, “is for tempting me beyond control.” With each stroke of his hand against my throbbing clit, I felt the tension coil tighter within me, aching for release. Tonight, I surrendered to the game, willingly becoming the one who begged for his touch, yearning to feel his every caress and penetration. The desire to taste him, to engulf his throbbing member in my mouth, consumed me entirely. In the depths of my being, I found solace in Zayne's dominance, reveling in his complete control over my body. It was as if I craved nothing more than to be his plaything, his puppet to manipulate at his whim, his slave to fulfill his every desire.

With one final slap on my clit, Zayne soothes it once more, eliciting a delicious blend of pleasure and pain that brought tears to my eyes. Slowly, deliberately, he removed my lingerie thong, each movement laden with anticipation. With a devilish grin, he tucked it into his pocket, a silent reminder of his control over me.

Then, with a hunger that matched my own, he descended on my clit, his tongue a fervent instrument of pleasure. He devoured it with an insatiable appetite, his movements precise and calculated. His tongue traced intricate patterns from my anus to my clit, and back again, each stroke sending electric waves of pleasure coursing through me. With each lick and suck, he coated my clit with his saliva, mingling with my arousal and heightening the intensity of the moment. And all the while, his unwavering gaze locked onto mine, a silent challenge that dared me to lose myself completely in the ecstasy of his touch.

But Zayne's hunger knew no bounds. With a growl of desire, he shifted his focus, using his tongue to fuck my pussy repeatedly, his movements rhythmic and relentless. Each thrust sent shockwaves of ecstasy through my body, driving me to the brink of madness as I surrendered completely to his skilled ministration.

With one final lick from him, I was sent hurtling over the edge, my release flooding over Zayne's tongue in a torrent of ecstasy. My body convulsed with pleasure, every nerve tingling with the intensity of the moment. Yet, Zayne continued to ride the wave of my orgasm, his tongue remaining firmly latched onto my pulsating pussy. The sensation was so intense that I couldn't help but arch my back in response, offering myself completely to the waves of pleasure crashing over me.

"Who said you could cum on my tongue?” Zayne's voice sliced through the air with authority. He seized my torso, forcing me to face him, my body now positioned on all fours. Still lost in the throes of my orgasm, I couldn't muster a response. His grip tightened around my neck, and with a sharp spank on my ass, he demanded again in a low, commanding voice, "Answer me."

Pouting and shaking my head, my eyes still watery from the overwhelming pleasure, I struggled to regain my composure. "N-no one," I gasped for air, my voice barely a whisper as I tried to come back from my high.

"So why did you?" Zayne's question dripped with dominance, his gaze piercing into my soul. "I'm sorry, daddy” I said in a playful, teasing manner, pouting my lips as I met his gaze. "I'm gonna make it up to you," I continued, leaning in to give him a small peck on the lips, my heart racing with anticipation of what was to come.

With each breath, the scent of his cologne mingled with the musky aroma of desire, intensifying the longing pooling in my core.

I took a moment to reclaim my breath and composure, my eyes lingering on Zayne. The crisp lines of his black collared shirt and the snug fit of his work pants accentuated every contour of his masculine form, intensifying my desire and fuelling my determination to pleasure him even more.

Motivated by a surge of resolve, I pushed Zayne off the bed, compelling him to stand on the edge of it. Hastily, I seized the waistband of his pants, pulling them down to reveal his mighty erection in all its glory once again. Still positioned on all fours on the bed, I wasted no time in engulfing Zayne's throbbing member with my mouth, eagerly licking and sucking with fervour.

Driven by an insatiable hunger, I suckle and lick Zayne's throbbing shaft, my tongue tracing every vein and contour, coaxing moans of pleasure from deep within him. The taste of his skin, salty and intoxicating, dances across my senses, driving my hunger for him to new heights. As I lavish attention upon him, I allow my saliva to cascade down his length, glistening in the dim light of the room like liquid silk.

He gathers my hair into his firm grip, guiding it with care as I continue to lavish attention on his throbbing cock.

With each descent, I push myself to take him deeper, feeling the tension in his muscles as I brush against the back of my throat. The sensation of him stretching me, filling me, turning me on like never before. I embrace the gagging, the tightness, knowing that each vibration emanating from my mouth only serves to heighten his pleasure.

Through it all, I remain attuned to his responses, the subtle shifts in his breathing and the way his body tenses beneath my touch. I revel in the power I hold over him, the control I wield with each flick of my tongue and gentle suck. In this moment, I am his ultimate source of pleasure, and I am determined to leave him trembling with satisfaction.

Zayne took a moment to deliver a sharp spank to my ass, heightening the intensity of the moment, before allowing me to continue drooling and licking eagerly over every inch of his pulsating member. “So fucking needy for me”, he remarked, his voice filled with both lust and dominance.

His breath hitched with each eager stroke of my tongue, his arousal palpable in the air. With his hand still firmly gripping my hair, Zayne guides me in syncopated rhythm, each motion synchronised with his eager thrusts. The sensation of his commanding touch and the rhythm of our movements fuel my desire to please him further, driving me to new heights of arousal and surrender. I swirled my tongue over every inch of his tip and length, tracing the contours of his throbbing cock. With each lick, I could feel the veins pulsating beneath my touch, a tangible sign of his arousal and my effect on him.

“I love your cock, I love it I love it I love it,” I murmured, taking a brief pause from sucking to express my admiration. Then, with a subtle hum of pleasure, I resumed, each moan vibrating through him and further intensifying the pleasure.

“Oh yeah?” he teased, his tone dripping with amusement. Suddenly, he shoved my entire head and mouth onto his hard erection, ramming it deep—causing me to choke and gag. Despite the overwhelming sensation, he knows my limits and where to draw the line. “Choke on this,” he commanded, his voice filled with authority.

He withdrew his cock from my mouth and spat into it, the warm liquid mingling with my own saliva as he reclaimed his dominance—guiding his member deep into my mouth once more. For a few exhilarating seconds, he holds it there, allowing me to feel every pulsation, before withdrawing, leaving me gasping for air. Eyes watery, mouth drooling, I'm a trembling mess before Zayne, consumed by desire.

As my eyes roll backward from the intensity, the overwhelming sensation only heightens my craving for him, for the taste of his cock filling my mouth. I revel in the act of choking on his dick, each gasp for breath fuelling my arousal. My pussy throbs with need, aching for the feeling of him deep inside me. Zayne withdraws his dick from my mouth and then firmly grasps my cheeks, pulling my face close to his. His gaze pierces mine before claiming my lips with a hungry kiss. “Fuck, you’re so fucking sexy,” he breathes against my lips, his words dripping with raw desire.

"Please, fuck me," I pleaded, meeting his gaze with desperation and desire.

"Why? You don’t need it. You can cum on your own," Zayne teased, his words laced with a hint of punishment for my earlier transgression—having an orgasm without waiting for him.

I begged him even more fervently.

"Mmm, beg me more. I kinda like it," he commanded, his voice dripping with authority. So I obeyed, my pleas growing more urgent. "Please, please, fuck me. I want to be your cum dumpster. I need your cock, Zayne. I need it inside of me,” I whimpered, my desperation palpable in evert word. My moans and pleas became increasingly frantic as my need for him grew more desperate.

The air crackled with tension as my words hung in the space between us.

Zayne moaned in response, his hunger evident as he caved in to my desire. With a commanding tone, he instructed me to remove my bra, and I complied without hesitation. Still on the bed before him, his erection throbbing with anticipation, he lifted me effortlessly from the bed, positioning me to straddle him. Facing each other, I wrapped my legs around his waist, feeling the heat of his arousal against my skin. His arms and hands locked underneath my thighs, providing support as he carried me higher, his lips descending to suckle and tease my hardened nipples. The sensation was electrifying.

With a deliberate motion, he pressed me firmly against the wall near the bed, the cool surface contrasting sharply with the heat radiating from our bodies. As he slid his cock inside me, a wave of overwhelming sensation washed over me, rendering me breathless and powerless to resist. I moaned in response, my voice echoing in the room, as his movements grew increasingly fervent and needy.

With each thrust, he plunged deeper into me. My nails dug into his back, leaving half-moon imprints as I clung to him, lost in the intensity of the moment. I couldn't suppress my moans of pleasure, each one escaping my lips as I surrendered completely to the overwhelming sensation of his cock inside me. My hands found their way into Zayne's hair, tugging gently as I arched my back, offering myself completely to him. His lips found mine in a fevered kiss, our breath mingling as our bodies moved in perfect sync. I bounced on his cock, meeting his thrusts with equal fervour, the ecstasy building with each movement. Despite the overwhelming pleasure, I held back, waiting for him to reach the brink of release. "I'm close," Zayne gasped, his breath ragged as he continued to grip my body tightly, driving us both towards ecstasy. "I'm on a pill. I need that cum buried deep inside me," I whispered, my voice barely above a breathy plea. With those words, Zayne's control shattered, his climax erupting with a powerful release as he emptied himself inside me—his cock driving even deeper. And soon after, I climaxed too.

The sensation of his warm seed filling me sent me over the edge, my body convulsing in pleasure as I rode out the waves of ecstasy. I could feel every pulse of his release, a delicious warmth spreading through me, mingling with the throbbing heat of my own climax. Even as the intensity of our climaxes subsided, I remained insatiable, eager to prolong the connection and savour every moment of our passion. With each movement, I guided his still-throbbing cock back inside me, circling my hips to ensure every drop of his cum was pumped deep within. Our bodies moved in a synchronized dance of desire, the rhythm of our lovemaking echoing through the room.

Zayne's expression was a blend of ecstasy and dazed—almost incredulous, that I still had the energy to keep him in such a state of bliss. He then lifted me, his cum dripping from my pussy to the floor, leaving me feeling simultaneously full and empty without his cock inside me. Despite the overwhelming sensations, he maintained his firm grip underneath my thighs, refusing to let go. He buried his face in my breasts, still riding the high of our shared climax.

Still carrying me, he guided us back onto the bed with gentle guidance. As we lay intertwined on the bed, his heartbeat resonating against my skin—enveloping me in a comforting embrace. Zayne's care and tenderness washed over me like a soothing balm. With tender kisses, he traced a path along my neck and shoulders, each touch a soothing balm to the lingering sensations of our lovemaking. His lips whispered words of affection and reassurance, filling the room with a sense of warmth and intimacy.

I nestled closer to him, feeling the weight of his body against mine, grounding me in the present moment.

“Don't tease me like that again,” he murmured in a low tone, his eyes sparkling with playful mischief. I couldn't resist teasing him further. "Or what? You gonna punish me again?" I retorted, a mischievous glint in my eye as excitement bubbled within me. Zayne's smirk only widened as he cupped my face in his hands, his touch sending shivers of anticipation down my spine. "Come on, let’s go shower," he suggested, his tone laced with promise. "I'll make sure you learn your lesson properly this time."

My heart raced with excitement at the prospect of another round of playfulness with him. "Second round?" I suggested eagerly, a playful grin spreading across my face. "Yes, sirrrrr."

—by prettyobsessed⋆˚✿˖° 𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚♡

Editor’s note: i saw a meme on reddit and some parts were inspired by it 😀 also, i actually wanted to name this piece 'Midnight Tease' but ultimately chose Lace & Desire instead. What do you think? :) hope you enjoyed this one! ♡

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beatrixstonehill2 · 4 months

Text

"Ugh, why oh why did my family have to move down south? This is absolutely out of hand. I mean, I knew it would be bad, and I warned them but they both seemed more than thrilled for their petite Liberal daughter to have a taste of what they really wanted for me deep down. I played on the volleyball team back home in Connecticut and loved it, so naturally as soon as I started University here I signed up and oh my god. It's immediate how much everyone down here wants you to become some hucow trad wife with a forty-five IQ. I've been here just one year and my first doctor's appointment went a little something like:

Them: "Hi, how many kids have you had so far?"

Me: "None, I'm only twenty."

Them, frantically writing a half dozen prescriptions: "That's horrible, we'll get you squared away. We'll start you off with fertility drugs, aphrodisiacs, pain pills--the good stuff, so you can take whatever the frat boys dish out. And IQ-lowering drugs."

Come to find out under my insurance, mandated by the state, I'm obligated to take all this stuff under legal penalty. I've heard I wouldn't go to jail, just a girls' correction camp where I'd be conditioned into love becoming a breeder. I couldn't believe any of it at first, but I adjusted..... knowing I'd be a horny, overly fertile mess with an IQ that shrank by the day....... I went from a 163 to an 84. But my doctor is unhappy and wants me to halve it asap.

I started playing volleyball and it clearly wasn't a sport down here, just a spectacle for male titillation. One team would be 'shirts' and the other would be 'skins'. The 'shirts' team would play with a tied off wet T-shirt, no bottoms, and the 'skins' would play topless in a super short schoolgirl skirt. In women's college sports, the winning team would be injected on the spot with breast-growth drugs, super potent, as a handicap of sorts. Punishing us for having athletic ability, same went for gymnasts or girls that ran track. They'd all be injected if they won. Most of us were absurdly pregnant. We all had huge boobs, fat asses, so horny we could hardly focus, bouncing and posing for the mostly male spectators. Doing fun things like groping ourselves when we score, or pissing ourselves in front of everyone as we rub our bellies sexily.

I gave birth during a game, still playing while in labor with quintuplets. I looked ready to explode and everyone joked that they hoped I would burst. Well, I'm not sure if they were joking, to be honest..... But as you can see my team did exceptionally well, thanks in large part to me, who actually came from a background playing the game seriously. The growing belly, bouncing udders, and shrinking IQ barely interrupted my focus..... Only problem is we're growing so fast and doing so well we're all starting to struggle with just how big our boobs are getting. I'm already two months pregnant again...... And we just won our first game yesterday. If I could feel pain I bet my back would hurt.....

The girls keep saying we're gonna have boobs so massive our backs break, and they say it like it's no big deal. Not to worry, we just need to meet good men who can take care of us once we're basically just a gigantic pair of breasts that can give birth, little more. They even naughtily say our bodies will be numb from getting paralyzed, so guys can do whatever they want to us and we won't even feel it. Guess all the pain meds are getting us ready to have a set of proper back-breaking tits. I even giggle and join in, knowing it's so disgusting and misogynistic...... I chat with my new friends, smoking, our pussies full of cum, our IQs turning to slush, breasts growing cartoonishly big, dripping milk constantly..... I tell them how fun it'll be watching my future husband do whatever he wants with me, having his way with my body, getting out all of his anger and frustration of my colossal breasts, each weighing more than me... maybe each weighing double what I do. And they all couldn't agree more with me. Maybe.... I'm starting to like living down here. How silly I was..... ever thinking I'd be more than pair of tits and a womb...."

#breast expansion #be #breast inflation #pregnant kink #breeding k1nk #immobile kink #free use kink

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kaciidubs · 5 months

Note

just imagine ( also dom chan 😫😫>>>) chan not giving you attention and suddenly goes out then you text him to ask where he went ( you know he is out with the members you jus got somthing up your sleeve

“ where are you”

chan: i’m with the boys

you reply “ same”

he’ll start blowing up your phone and you leave him in read

you bet you’ll get it when he gets home🫣

Oh goodness- the brat mentality is jumping out in this one and I'm so down for it!!! ❣ Warnings: Dom! Chris, brat! reader, degradation, Dom/Sub dynamics, slight spit roasting, slight choking, open ended ❣ ❣ Additional Tags: Chan is referred to as Chris, Reader is referred to as Princess, Baby, Good Girl, Brat, Spoiled

Attention Seeking

You knew this would happen - pushing one too many buttons of his and breaking some small, but carefully picked, rules to bring out that authoritative aura you had a gut wrenching craving for.

Chris told you if you kept acting out, he'd ignore you until you decided to act right like his "good girl would", but you were well beyond the puppy eyes and lilted begging - that wasn't any fun.

So, when he announced he was heading out with the boys for a little bit, not even the slightest bit amused when you denied his offer of coming with, you took to putting the rest of your plan to work a little more than half an hour later.

Princess💖: Where are you? Channie🐺: Huh?? Channie🐺: I'm with the boys.. Princess💖: Mm, same

There was a short minute between your message and his reply, but the result was nothing short of golden.

Channie🐺: What? Channie🐺: Baby who are you with?

No less than a second later, your phone was ringing with his caller ID on full display, but you just sat and listened to the ringtone play through until it cut off, sending his call straight to voicemail.

Channie🐺: Answer me Channie🐺: Who are you with??? Channie🐺: Baby I swear

Another phone call, but this time you swiftly declined it without a moment of hesitation, sending him to voicemail yourself.

Channie🐺: K.

With that, your phone went silent, no further texts or calls coming through; and though part of you felt bad for taking it to these lengths, you couldn't help the fluttering of butterflies in your stomach as you eagerly awaited his arrival.

Seconds turned to minutes, and minutes to hours, and the excitement that was once coursing through your veins had slowly turned into annoyance and anticipation - had he played you at your own game? Was he truly outwitting the brat? Did he actually choose a true punishment over the punishment you were practically begging for?

Leaving your phone in the bedroom, you decided to venture into the kitchen to at least satiate your thirst since it didn't seem like anything else was being satiated any time soon.

However, the second you grabbed a cup from the cabinet and set it on the counter, an arm was wrapped around your waist and a hand was around your neck.

You would've screamed if it weren't for the familiar scent of mahogany and coconut filling your nose, though that didn't stop your heart rate from skyrocketing in the process; your body freezing against his.

"You fucking minx," Chris breathed against the shell of your ear, the hand around your neck twitching slightly as he felt your pulse, "lost all your senses in one night for what, huh? Because you needed some fucking attention? You can't go one hour without needing me?"

Swallowing thickly, you somehow managed to find your voice as the rolling flame of defiance grew within you. "Y-You were gone for more than an hour, Christopher."

There was a scoff, then you were spun around in his hold and backed against the counter, though his arm protected your lower back from the sharp edge - he would be the one inflicting pain, nothing else.

His eyes were sharp, darkened by a mix of aggravation and arousal, and if it weren't for the fact that he was holding onto you, you would've melted to the floor where you stood.

"Speaking back, acting out, breaking the worlds easiest rules, ignoring messages, ignoring calls." With each subject listed the tick in his lip grew, and if you hadn't known better it would've felt like he was genuinely mad at you. "If you want to act like a spoiled rotten brat, then fine," the hand that was once on your neck now cradled your jaw, squishing your cheeks almost painfully as he forced your gaze to remain on him, "I'll remind you what bad girls get, I'll break that fucking ego of yours until you're begging for my forgiveness."

He leaned forward and your eyes fluttered, your body instinctively preparing itself to feel his lips on yours, but when you only felt the pass of his breath you whined pitifully.

"That's what I thought." Peering down at you, he tilted his head back just a sliver, "All that bark and no bite - don't worry, baby, I've got all the bite you need."

[unedited]

#✧. ┊ kacii answers #✧. ┊ anony nonie #skz smut #stray kids smut #bang chan x reader #bang chan smut

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seravphs · 11 months

Text

ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — TEEN DAD! GOJO SATORU x FEM READER

The Zenins want Megumi. Gojo isn’t having it.

wc — 1.7k

tags — one suggestive line after “those girls are better off without you” if you want to avoid it, set after 棠, part of teen dad gojoverse, in which you and Gojo raise Megumi together

Gojo’s been in the doghouse since last night. Not literally, obviously - though he might have preferred it if you were there with him, at least. He’d take anything over being kicked out of your shared bedroom and being forced to sleep on the couch.

If you had it your way, you’d prolong his punishment, but you can’t. Not when, as he told you last night, the Zenins are coming today to wrest Megumi from your custody.

Fat chance.

You’d die before you let that happen.

Gojo’s not too keen on either of those outcomes. For the first time in his life, he’s taking the pacifist’s route and talking it out, though you’re sure his version of talking involves more insults than most people’s.

He thought about simply having it out with the elders, but it’s not worth it. Not when he has a plan for the future of Jujutsu Society. Not when he has you, Megumi, and Tsumiki. He’s playing the long game. He can’t afford to screw it up now.

Being a family man really has ruined him.

Zenin Keiko is a tall woman with a severe black bob and the characteristic Zenin look of perpetual contempt. She’s Naoya’s cousin, alright.

“Twice-removed,” Gojo whispers to you. “Or illegitimate. Something like that, I can’t remember.”

“Shut up,” you whisper back out of the corner of your mouth. “She’s going to hear you.”

Welcoming a Zenin into your home feels like blasphemy, though you suppose Gojo is the closest thing Jujutsu society has to a god.

Gojo’s unimpressed by her, mostly because he feels like the Zenins are mocking him. It’s not like anyone can take him on, but to send someone who has no battle capabilities feels like an insult.

Keiko is an auxiliary manager with no cursed technique to speak of besides a weak barrier. It’s a wonder she has the nerve to speak to Gojo. The Zenins truly did not care about her if they sent her as the proxy to undermine your roles as the Fushiguro children’s guardians. In fact, you suspect that’s the precise reason she was chosen - because she’s expendable.

Keiko, to her credit, shows no sign of fear.

“I’d like to meet the children, Mr. Gojo. It’ll give me a good grasp of what the situation is.”

“Hell no,” Gojo outright laughs in her face. “I’m not letting a Zenin near my brats. Your-“

“Gojo.” You squeeze his knee. Cooperate.

“I’ll go get them,” he says begrudgingly.

The two of you sandwich the children between you on the couch. Tsumiki sits on Gojo’s left. Megumi sits on your right. That way, the two that are most likely to fight are separated. It’s a strategized united front.

“Megumi, do you like your guardians? Do you like staying here?”

Megumi looks at you. You smile at him encouragingly - and there Keiko goes, scribbling away in her notebook. She’s probably saying something about how Megumi is so scared of you he won’t answer the question unless you give him permission.

“Are you sure? Forgive me, but Gojo seems a little…immature for a parent.”

A direct attack right out of the gates. Gojo objects to this very accurate assessment of his character.

“He’s fine, I guess,” Megumi says. There’s more scribbling. You’re starting to hate the sound of pen on paper. “I like-“

He looks at you. There’s a tiny blush on his cheeks, just the faintest hint of red. More quietly, he says, “It’s fine, cause she takes care of us.”

Gojo stares at him, slack-jawed. “Are you kidding me? You are one ungrateful brat. Who found you? Who took you in?”

Tsumiki chimes in, “We like Gojo a lot too! He’s fun.”

Keiko ignores her completely, focusing on Megumi instead. Your distaste for her grows.

“Would you say that Gojo has an active role in taking care of you?”

“Why aren’t you asking Tsumiki anything?” Megumi interrupts. “Her opinion’s important too.”

Keiko gives him a strained smile. Gojo reaches behind Tsumiki on the couch to ruffle Megumi’s hair. He only tolerates this for five seconds before he shakes his head to get him off.

“He loves me,” Gojo says.

“I have Stockholm syndrome,” Megumi says. ‘Help,’ he mouthes.

“He’s joking,” Tsumiki says nervously.

You’ve given up on making them behave. It’s just not happening.

Keiko seems to have given up too. Rather than continue prodding Megumi, she turns to Gojo.

“How often are you home?”

“Basically every day,” Gojo lies. He does try his best, but it’s more like every other day. Such is the fate of the strongest sorcerer.

“Don’t want my baby all alone, poor little thing.”

He catches your look and cackles. “No, the other one. My other baby,” and the kiss he presses to your knuckles is so tender it melts your heart.

Keiko makes an uncomfortable expression. “Please try to stay focused, Mr. Gojo.”

Megumi gags loudly. Tsumiki pinches his arm to get him to shut up and he yelps. Keiko narrows her eyes and makes another note.

“I understand how Gojo might take responsibility for the children,” Keiko says, directing her attention to you, “but how did you come into the picture. Are you a girlfriend-“

“Wife,” Gojo interjects.

Keiko’s entire body does an approximation of what it would look if a human had a screenshot function.

“Aren’t you children?”

You don’t like Keiko at all, but you respect the balls it takes to talk to Gojo like that. All the Zenins seem to have that death wish of wanting to mouth off to the strongest. Maybe it’s a genetic thing.

Gojo shrugs. “If I’m old enough for the missions you send me on, I’m old enough to take care of kids, right? How hard can it be?”

You pinch his thigh. “Gojo.”

“What? It is easy. You just give them a bunch of lollipops and call it a day.”

Keiko’s writing is now background noise to you. “Are you still doing that? I told you-“

“It’s fine! All kids need sugar to grow. I had a sweet tooth when I was their age.”

“And that’s probably the reason why you still have one now! Except it’s rotting your teeth-“

“It’s not-“

“It is!”

“Don’t be so uptight!”

“How does it look if I’m always saying no to him and you’re always saying yes? It isn’t fair, Satoru. Parenting has to be a team effort.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about you playing good cop, bad cop with him!”

“Have you gone insane? We went over this! He likes you more than me! There is no good cop, bad cop when he just takes your side every single time.”

“Excuse me,” Keiko says. She’s somehow managed to look a complex combination of perplexed, annoyed, and satisfied. “Please take care of your lovers’ tiffs outside of this interview. I will say that this doesn’t seem like an environment particularly conducive to raising children, however.”

“What do you know?” Gojo says rudely. “The only reason you’re even doing this interview is because I’m letting you.”

Normally, you would tell him off, but in front of the Zenins? You’re a united front. You place a hand on his forearm and look down your nose at the woman in front of you as best as you can when she’s taller than most people you meet.

“I think you’ve overstayed your welcome,” you say.

“You agreed to an interview,” she says.

“An interview, not an inquisition.”

“You can’t refuse a request from the elders without consequences,” she says, as patiently as she would speak to a child. It’s condescending.

“Are you threatening my wife?”

When you look to your side, Gojo’s face is shadowed. His eyes are storm dark and frightening. Keiko can’t hide her visceral reaction.

She forgets her coat on her way out, she’s in such a hurry to leave. Gojo takes it and disappears.

While he’s away, you let Megumi and Tsumiki return to their rooms. They’re muttering amongst themselves, but you don’t pry. Children need their space, too. You’ll talk to them about it later.

He’s back within a minute.

“What did you do with it?” You’re bracing yourself for the answer.

“I just sent a message,” he says, as cheerily as if nothing had happened. “Think we passed that?”

“Gojo, I think that’s the first test you’ve ever failed. Did you see the way she was writing during the last twenty minutes? And Megumi and Tsumiki! Every time they said something, she made a face!”

Gojo shrugs, still so certain of his place in the hierarchy. One day, the elders will get tired of him throwing his weight around like Jujutsu’s one and only tyrant, but not someday soon if they want to keep their heads.

“It’s fine,” he says. “I’m not going to make Megumi and Tsumiki act like repressed little puppet children just so that they can find some way to snipe them out from under us anyways. Who knows, maybe we’ll teach the Zenins a thing or two about healthy child raising. I hear they have two girls now. One of them has no cursed energy. Should we kidnap some more children?”

“Like you know anything about healthy parenting,” you snark. “Those girls are better off without you.”

“Does being mean to me get you off or something?”

“Do you want to find out?”

“I would love to,” he purrs, sliding a hand under your shirt just so slightly so his nails prick at your lower stomach. You grab his wrist.

“Sorry,” you say, your stomach churning at the joke gone wrong. “I can’t.”

He stops immediately. “What’s wrong?”

“I just- They want Megumi badly enough to go to the higher ups. I know what they do to their children. I can’t let him go there, Satoru. I can’t.”

“I won’t let that happen.”

“I can’t stop thinking about those girls.”

“Come here,” he says.

You lean closer to him. He lifts his arm so easily, without thinking. When you slide under it, you fit into him perfectly.

Now that you’re safely tucked under his arm, you feel sheltered from anything that could happen. “I don’t want to give the kids to the Zenins. They’re monsters. And they would make monsters out of them.”

“That’s only if they take them away,” Gojo says, his smile fanged and vicious.

“And if they do?”

“I hope they try.”

You trust him.

You know he’ll keep his word. If Gojo says Megumi and Tsumiki won’t be going to the Zenins as long as he’s alive, then they won’t be going at all.

#sera writes #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojou x reader #gojou satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 5 months

Text

not allowed xvii, m | jjk

pairing(s): est. poly relationship – yoongi x reader x jungkook

summary: The date of Jeon Jungkook's mandatory military service is drawing close. There's a heart-to-heart... following by fucking all three holes. What? That harsh training is easier to endure when Jungkook has nice memories of his girlfriend's sweet, sweet ass.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; JK and reader only; relationship talk; all the feels and heart eyes; smut (fem reader, all the kisses, nipple play, fingering [pussy + ass], f and m-receiving oral + face fucking, slight edging, anal doggy, vaginal penetrative sex, mentions of m-masturbation, multiple orgasms); idol!BTS - Yoongi x reader x Jungkook; reader is JK’s noona; based on real time (before 2023.12.11) this is late but I can't not send off the bunbun :D

part of ‘not allowed’ series, but can be read alone. basic summary: your bf asked JK to fuck you, twice, and then on the regular. blue haired JK. 2021 YG birthday, ‘Butter’, wiyllt remix. new skill acquired, JK’s sheer pj punishment, 2021 JK birthday, during PTD in LA, 2022 HNY, 2022 YG birthday, PTD in LV, 2022 JK birthday; 2022 Christmas, before YG's service

“Yoongi warned me.”

“Hm?”

He didn’t have much time left. But he made time for you. He had made your favorite food (crispy samgyeopsal, hehe), bought you a gift even though you didn’t want to accept them (ended up being Google Play gift cards, which you gladly accepted; however, they came with a stipulation – “you better buy all of my and SUGA-hyung’s in-game outfits with this”), and made you take off your shirt (???????) to yank one of his white Calvin Klein t-shirts over your head. You always refused physical items from him. After all, you didn’t date him for the money, plus you didn’t want anyone to notice that you had any lavish gifts. They would think you had a suga daddy or something.

Hehe.

“Noona, it’s a t-shirt. Most people can afford a Calvin Klein t-shirt. Why do you think I accepted the campaign?”

“So you could be shirtless for a reason?”

“Hey!”

“Hmm, all for ARMY, huh?”

“That includes you too, you know.”

You had grinned at Jeon Jungkook then and, just this once, you accepted his gifts. He had smiled back with those round cheeks, bright white teeth, sparkling eyes, and a newly bald head. It was a strange look to see him in, but he made it amusing, joking about it all night, not addressing the why even though you both knew the part of life that was yet to come. He puffed his chest, shirtless, and jokingly pumped up his muscles.

“You remind me of The Rock right now,” you quipped.

His head tilted in confusion. “Eh?”

You pulled up a photo of Dawyne Johnson. “I expect your biceps to be this big after eighteen months.”

“Woah! That’s impossible!”

“Just imagine ARMY’s faces when you show up at the first concert as buff as The Rock. Still bald,” you laughed good-naturedly, setting your phone down. “We gotta pick someone to People’s Elbow.”

“Seokjin-hyung would never agree.”

“You said it, not me.”

Jungkook was laughing with you. It slowly died out, your smile remaining, and he was smiling back. You had noticed this feeling all night. Something weighing on him even though he was trying to be as normal as possible. It suddenly occurred to you that you were in a unique position now. You always had to hide your true emotions about Min Yoongi and Jeon Jungkook, staying silent until you were behind closed doors and only in their presence. After all, who would understand the love between you and two men, let alone two of the most talented and most famous world-class superstars of BTS? You could confide in no one. But now, everyone knew the timeline of their service to their country. It would not be strange for you to say out loud, in public, that you missed them being around.

It was…

Comforting.

Just knowing that you could say it out loud and people would likely say, me too, even if no one really knew what you truly meant.

Those big brown eyes searched your face. You smiled softly at him and didn’t back away, letting him find what he needed. You knew Jungkook wanted to say something, but you didn’t press for it. He would tell you on his own time. He was always like that.

“Yoongi warned me.”

You paused. “Hm?”

He came closer and held your shoulders. You looked up, seeing the infinite sky and the endless universe in those eyes. The strangest adjustment for you was not the hair but the lack of piercings. They had remained constant (or as constant as Jungkook had allowed, heh) even when his hair changed. He had removed all of them now, leaving only earrings in his lower earlobe that he would have to eventually have to remove too. Still, it was the same person looking back at you. No matter how many years passed, no matter how much his appearance changed, the pureness of his emotions always shone through those big peepers.

The original Magic Shop was that big heart of his, after all.

He made wishes come true all the time.

“I’m not… good at speaking or anything…” Jungkook mumbled, chewing the left side of his lower lip, exposing that familiar and well-loved underlip mole. He always started off with that. You didn’t interrupt even though you wanted to tell him he was always super obvious to read. Especially to you. “I… I wished I spent more time with you.”

You stilled, not expecting that. “Well, you know I understand–”

Jungkook smiled and shook you a little, telling you to shut up. You only did because of the faint sadness in his expression. “That’s what Yoongi-hyung warned me about. That you would understand. That you would always understand, no matter what. But, still… I know, I spent a lot of this year working on my album and flying to places and trying new things and recording content I knew ARMY would like. I really wanted to prepare stuff everyone could enjoy while we were gone.”

You chuckled. “Am I not included in that? You just said so earlier.”

He stubbornly shook his head. “You are different, noona. There are not enough hours for all the time I want to spend with you.”

You waited for him to look back to you again. He looked apologetic. He had run out of time. There was no one more time. But he never needed to give you more. You had always been grateful for every second, every minute, every hour that he gave you.

“Any time with you is enough for me, Jungkook.”

He held you tight.

“But it’s not enough for me.”

He was holding onto your shoulders very firmly. You could tell he did not want to cry. You gave him a moment to breathe. He blinked hard and swallowed, letting out a heavy exhale, expansive eyes full of glistening stars.

“I know you’ll be fine, noona.”

He tiled his head down, leaning his forehead against yours, and there were no shadows of his hair, just soft warm light all around.

“I have saved thousands of photos,” you murmured, and he cracked a smile. “And I’ll definitely still see your face all over Korea. I won’t be able to escape you, I promise.”

He stared into your eyes.

“You’re the strongest person I know.”

You closed your eyes and breathed in, imprinting Jungkook’s clean scent into your memory.

“Even stronger than Yoongi,” he whispered, and you imprinted his voice into your memory too, even though you already had many of his words archived already.

“Don’t let him know you said that,” you whispered back. “He’ll get sulky.”

His breath trembled against your lips.

“But I won’t be fine knowing I should have done more.”

You reached up and wrapped your arms around him, hooking your hands behind his shoulders.

“There is no should here. And you are stronger than you know. You’ll be golden, my love.”

You used to only use that for Yoongi. You both mostly hated pet names. Somehow, my love snuck its way in there. It was never used lightly. There was weight to it. And now you used it for Jungkook, in the same tone, with the same softness. My love. Every time you felt him shiver and hold you tighter. Tilted his head to close the distance. You kissed him back, letting it linger, letting it take shape as a core memory. You let him be the one to break it. You let him take one of your hands and hold it up to his, palm to palm, fingertips touching.

He looked down at your joined touch for a moment.

At the same time, your fingers and his fingers curled forward and interlocked.

“Hyung and I are lucky to have you.”

“Dunno, sometimes my jokes aren’t smooth like butter.”

Jungkook squeezed your hand tighter, chuckling lightly. “You know what I mean, noona.”

“Do I?”

Then he surprised you.

“I’ve never heard you complain about your situation even though you had every reason and every chance to.”

He had noticed.

He really is growing up, huh?

“There’s nothing I need to complain about. I’m pretty lucky, I think,” you hummed.

“With adamant-almost-insufferable personality SUGA-hyung and very-difficult-to-handle Jungkookie?”

They were light-hearted words but the way he said it was not so. His tone indicated this was something spoken about between them. You didn’t mind it. In fact, you preferred it. Not only did they have complimentary personalities but they had someone who understood their unique situation well. But you also understood the apprehension. They had expressed it before.

“You two are my favorite challenges,” you chuckled, rubbing your nose against Jungkook’s. “Life is too boring without you.”

It had probably been a bad decision back then. After all, the agency was against Min Yoongi and you dating from the start, telling him repeatedly that romantic relationships were not allowed. But with youth and stubborn personalities came resilience. And becoming really good at lying to authority. Whoops. The agency both had to low-key accept what was going on and slowly relaxed over time. But life had other ideas to make your love life even more unconventional. And hectic.

(And loud. Jeon Jungkook was very loud.)

Of course, life was hard, but every life was. In fact, maybe challenge was the wrong word as it had possible negative connotations. The odd hours, the lost sleep, the sneaking around, the no-gifts rule, the creative dates behind closed doors – these things were a small price to pay in the light of the unbreakable connections you had between Yoongi and Jungkook.

Not one red line of fate, but two.

One silver.

One golden.

Jungkook held your face in his hands.

“ARMY is the reason I live, but you are the reason I know my heart is always safe.”

You tried not to wince and shifted your eyes from side to side. Eerily similar to a certain someone. Hard to tell if it was a habit that you picked up from Yoongi or one he had picked up from you. You could tell Jungkook was being sincere, but it was still a dramatic cheesy compliment that you weren’t used to accepting. He laughed and deliberately peppered theatrical smooches all over your face that you tried to squirm away from, successfully breaking away and starting a chase throughout his home where he would catch you and pick you up to yell that he loved you straight into your ear, followed by a kissing frenzy. You would temporarily lose hearing and wiggle away to start the cycle all over again, knowing full well that you couldn’t run faster than him. Maybe something to think about for the new year.

In those moments, everything was perfect.

In those moments, the world was only you and him.

In those moments, no one could break the wholeness between you and him.

No one but time.

You both tumbled into his bed, laughing, childish, holding onto each other. Somehow, your hand landed on his waist and his ended up in your hair, playing with it, and Jungkook asked you how you did it.

“Do what?” you teased with a smirk.

“I sometimes think about if I could love someone else, but I really can’t,” Jungkook frowned, running his fingertips over your temple. “I just get obsessed and can’t stop.”

“Oh, I know.”

Everyone knew that, keke.

“I got jealous of hyung, really,” he admitted. “Not only because he had you, but because it seemed to work so well. And then it turns out that you guys really are perfect.”

You rolled your eyes. “We’re not perfect–”

“It made me love you even more,” Jungkook continued, talking over you. “You pair with him so well. You pair with me well. You’ve always listened to me. Really paid attention. You know what I want before I say anything. You sometimes even know how I feel before I know. You know everything.”

“I definitely don’t know everything,” you scoffed. “Stop making stuff up.”

“And you never get mad at me.”

You shrugged. “The trick is to always be mad.”

“Hey!”

You grinned. Softened a bit when you saw his narrowed eyes and pout.

“Life’s too short to be mad at you.”

Jungkook’s expression changed at your words.

“When you’re young, you think you have all the time in the world, but that’s not true,” you sighed, remembering how it was. “Time is finite. Why waste it letting things pile up and be resentful? It is better to know yourself, to articulate how you feel, and to approach problems with confidence that you can solve them. There are things people can do and things people can’t. Even if… Even if things don’t work out tomorrow, I will have lived knowing I did what made me happy and knowing I did everything I could to make you happy.”

You squeezed his waist and exhaled softly.

“Maybe I can’t do that forever. But is that a reason to stop? I don’t think so. So what if people think it’s wrong? So what if people don’t believe in my heart? So what if they think it can’t be done? Wrongness is not as easy to define as people would like it to be. I only need you and Yoongi to believe in my heart for it to be true, and my toxic trait has always been that I think I can do anything, hah…”

A year and a half was a short time. And a long time, perhaps, but dedication and loyalty were always the foundation you built these precious feelings on. Maybe it wasn’t very romantic to rely on your stubbornness to stay in love, but it did help keep promises.

“You ask me, how do I do it?”

You had hesitated in the beginning not for your sake, but theirs. It was hard to live complicated. It was harder to love in a complicated way. It was impossible made possible through sheer determination, and maybe everything would become more impossible in the future, but it would be disingenuous to right now if you let those worries consume you, and it was important to you for your love to know that every moment with them was never taken for granted. As long as you made that promise, you would spare no expense.

The only way to do that was to, of course, live like that.

“I love you because I want to, with everything I have. And I will never make a promise I don’t intend to keep.”

Jungkook stared at you with awe.

“You’re so cool, noona.”

You half-smiled. Not denying it. “Can you tell Yoongi that so he stops disagreeing with me?”

He grinned mischievously. “He actually thinks you’re really cool too, but he didn’t want me to tell you that.”

“That punk–”

Words fell away. You wouldn’t say the conversation was surprising, but you hadn’t expected that level of depth. You appreciated it. Maybe it had been Yoongi’s idea, but it had been up to Jungkook to vocalize it. You understood that it meant a lot to him who thought he wasn’t elegant in his communication. He didn’t have to worry though. You could feel his sincerity in other ways. In the way he looked at you, turning to lift himself over your body, fitting his hand over your wrist above your head. You shifted to be on your back, looking back with a playful smile. In the way he leaned in and kissed you. In the way his free hand grazed the hem of the t-shirt and slid over your skin.

He showed rather than told.

So show me.

You felt him whimper into the kiss as your tongue slid against his. Felt the shiver of desire as his thumb grazed over your nipple and his fingers close in around your breast. You smiled against his lips. Nothing had changed since the first time. Jungkook still touched you with the same earnestness, the same unflinching lust, pushing away your clothes with the same frustration, as if they personally offended him by existing. But he was different too, savoring the moment, letting his hot exhale wash over you, kissing down your neck in the way you liked, sliding his arms under you so he could dig his short nails into your back and make your spine arc and your chest press against his, his teeth biting into the curve of your shoulder and sucking hard.

You gasped, gripping his shoulder tightly.

His forearms tensed against your back, kissing back up to your ear and biting down just under it, leaving his marks on your skin, your pulse thundering under his devouring lips.

Good thing winter called for turtlenecks and scarves.

You looked down at him when Jungkook scooted back and licked up the center of your torso, slow and dripping saliva, feeling the heat and wetness and possessiveness in the action, opening his eyes slowly as he lifted his head from your cleavage, those brown irises dark and heavy with desire.

“The baldness makes it feel like I’m sexing up a stranger,” you admitted with a snicker.

He glared. “Shuddup. I’m tryin’ to be sexy here.” His Busan satoori came out more when he was done with your bullshit.

“Keep trying. It’s fun,” you cheerfully remarked.

What?

It was fun to annoy him. It worked too, for his anxious need to make this a perfect moment dropped and was superseded by raw emotion and carnal need. He dropped his head and worked his mouth all over your breasts. Lips, tongue, teeth. Your breath caught in your throat, back arching, sparks over your skin, and his arms pulled out from under you. He gripped your thighs, curling his tongue around your hard nipples and making you moan from his mouth. Flaring his tongue over one, pushing it around, sucking, then moving to the other, sinking his fingers into your thighs, groaning as your hands encircled his head and pushed him closer, more, your head pressed to the soft pillows he always brought out when you stayed over.

Jungkook’s usual sleeping pillow was not optimal for fucking.

Facts were facts.

(You still didn’t understand how he was comfortable on that cylinder but he was one of the seven wonders of the world. The other six being the rest of BTS, of course.)

It was never about what, but how.

It was never about who he was, but about who he was with you.

He kissed up your collarbones, leaving your skin tingling with the strange sensation of missing lip rings. His fingers dipping inwards, your thumbs prickled by his short hair, and your eyes connected as his fingertips slipped under your panties, stroking your wet slit, shuddering as he felt your heat while basking in the heat of your gaze, stilling your inhale.

The moment settled into memory.

Burned.

He pushed two fingers inside you and your moans were cut off by his lips, roughly kissing you as your hips rose and your pussy locked around him, closing your eyes to turn low-lit reality into a continuous dream. One of your hands sliding down and into his pants, cupping your palm around his erection still constricted by his boxer briefs. Creating a rhythm, his fingers pushing in, your erratic breath making his, rubbing his hardness with each wave of pleasure, feeling the fervor build between bodies, layer by layer, the physicality becoming more intense with the depth of emotion, deeper, his cock throbbing under your touch, catching his tongue, feeling his saliva mix with yours and trickle down your throat.

Pleasure seeping into every fiber of your being.

“J… Jungkook…”

He ducked his head, your hand falling out of his pants, but your protest was cut off by the overwhelming ecstasy of his lips around your nipple once again, flicking it with his tongue, fucking you with more force, and your hips matched his pace, your head tipping back, throat exposed to the air, unafraid, moaning to the ceiling, close, closer, there.

Gasping sharply, and your walls clenched around his fingers, spasming, the heavy and sweet scent of sex bursting into the air, coating his fingers, sticking to your thighs, racing electricity up your stomach and into your lungs, the orgasm leaving you shockingly breathless.

Then your eyes rolled up into your head when Jungkook pushed himself down the bed, peeling your soaked panties down your legs, and he shoved his face between your legs, moaning hotly when his tongue met slick skin, your hands immediately gripping the sheets, your hips bucking into his face, ravenous for the sensation of circling tongue and soft lips, your eyelids fluttering as your swollen clit pulsed against wet muscle.

“F-Fuck…”

It wasn’t elegant but it felt fucking good. Your legs hooked around his shoulders and Jungkook lifted your lower body, his strong hands squeezing your ass, thumbs pressing in and spreading out your holes to give his greedy mouth more access while your thighs suffocated him, your palm pushing down on the crown of his head, shuddering as his tongue circled your trembling pussy.

He sucked up your cum.

Eyes opening and directly looking up at you.

You dug your fingertips into his head and fucked his face.

His eyes rolled back and he thrust his tongue into you, moaning again into your wet heat as you flexed around it, and then he shoved his thumb into your tight ass. Thankfully you had come prepared (and knowing him too well), so it didn’t surprise you, although you were a bit amused at his audacity. It was easy to forget about though, especially when his lips sealed around your clit, licking fervently. His thumb began to push in and out, in, out, his muffled groans vibrating through your core, fingering your ass while sucking your engorged clit. You would think he wouldn’t dare without checking with you first. Then again, he told you all the time to let him in your ass.

He was lucky you had foresight.

He was also right, though, because clearly you were letting him do whatever he wanted and enjoying it.

Hah.

You came again, hard, all the blood rushing to your head and gasping for air.

“Oh? It’s clean.”

“Yeah, something told me you’d try and go for the ass tonight,” you chuckled between pants, only to lose all breath once more as Jungkook planted his knee above your shoulder, mysteriously missing pants and underwear somehow (the spedy efficiency he was capable of when horny was remarkable), pushing down the dark red head of his stiff cock onto your open mouth, shifting his leg as you expertly adjusted your hair out of the way.

You raised an eyebrow at him but all Jungkook did was throw his head back and moan as your tongue wrapped around his girth, molding your mouth around him. His hips flicked forward, and you had the angle, swallowing him deep in your throat, deep enough for your lips to press against the base, his balls smacking into your chin. The tip of your tongue slid out and licked them. He groaned, low and erotic, slowly fucking your face, his pitch hiking as your tongue ran up to the thin skin under the head and down to his balls, smoothly not missing a beat as he dictated the pace. He didn’t touch your head, giving you the chance to move away if it was too much, but he didn’t have to worry. He was getting harder and thicker with this steady pace, his length twitching wildly between your lips, giving you all the control in the world, tilting your head to keep it at the perfect angle, curling your tongue to the underside of his cock to press it to the roof of your mouth and down your throat, anchoring yourself with your hands clutching his hard thighs, his girth stretching you out.

A desperate whine above you and he slowed, almost to full stop.

“N-No… w-wait…”

You calmly continued to move your head back and forth, leisurely, your lips pressed against the base of the head, licking around and around, flaring the slit with the tip of your tongue, his strong flavor invading your taste buds.

His hips nearly buckled and Jungkook cried out, tapping your upper arm hurriedly.

“I… I w-want to fuck your ass…”

Oh.

So that was why he wanted to be as hard as possible.

“You act like I’m gonna let you do anything you want,” you fake complained, choosing to roll onto your elbows after he backed up. Hey, you were going to picking the position here, even if you were succumbing to all his wants. Once again you guessed right. You looked back to see sweat glistening on Jungkook’s collarbones and his wide eyes honed in onto your perky round ass bouncing in the air, on your knees with your chest against the mattress. He carelessly dumped the hand towel back onto the nightstand and ripped open the condom, oblivious to you witnessing his hard dick bobbing up and down in the air as he climbed back onto the bed.

This guy was spacing out staring at your butt.

“Hey, I’m still here,” you joked.

“Uh huh,” was his distracted reply.

You turned back to face forward as his expression disappeared behind you, half-amused but not offended by his one-track mind. You figured he was busy carefully rolling down the condom until you felt his thumb once again press into your tight ring of muscle and heard him moan as he sank inside.

Um.

“Fuck, it’s so tight and so soft inside you…”

While you appreciated his complimenting observations, some warning would have been nice, but, then again, who cared about that, certainly not you as you gripped his sheets and survived on shallow breath and the repeated shallow fullness, in, out, in, out, this time using more force and stretching you out, acutely aware of Jungkook watching your body’s reaction in fascination, his rough pants deepening, hauling himself up.

Forget it.

You didn’t want any warning.

He pulled his thumb out and replaced it with his cock, bottoming out right away.

You clenched your jaw and felt your core tighten involuntarily, his wanton moan striking the air, somehow remembering not to move for a second despite you knowing that he desperately wanted to, his entire body trembling as he gripped your hips. There was a dull ache, of course. His fully hard cock was a lot bigger than a finger, but you knew what was about to happen, experience helping you relax, and then you snapped your ass into his crotch.

Which meant, fuck me.

Pussy dripping, ass full, face down into the sheets that smelled just like him, you pushing back as he thrust into you, any pain fading into a heady euphoric state that was inescapable, overwhelming, unforgettable, his grasp imprinted onto your skin, loud smacks melting into the air filled with your joined, unashamed moans, both giving pleasure as much as receiving it. Sensations piling on sensations, everything you wanted and more. Everything he wanted and more, fuck, I love your ass, probably because you didn’t have as much control over him as you did with your pussy, damn, maybe he was smarter than you thought, gasping as you dropped your torso lower to give his cock a more comfortable angle.

“N-Not fair, y-you can’t go low like that…”

You would have replied, oh yes I can, but you were face-first into his bed getting fucked in the ass, being pounded so hard that even your thighs were shaking, so you only focused on what little breathing you could do, although you did evilly snicker in between thin inhales.

You heard a disapproving huff behind you.

Oop, he heard you.

His grip on your hips tightened and you barely had time to gasp before he slammed into you, deliberate and rough and focusing on giving it to you as hard as he could without cumming too fast. You could tell because his noises were turning into stifled grunts, probably biting down on his lower lip, but then again there wasn’t much you could do to go against what you enjoyed most. Pure, intense fucking, digging the base of your palms into his mattress and throwing your head back, driven by his pace and the rapturous passion, your leaking pussy throbbing with need, filled up in other ways, pulse roaring in your ears and pushed to the brink of tension, deep inside, his name tumbling from your mouth, drawn-out and shaken, your core clenching, adrenaline striking to a feverish high.

Jungkook choked on your name, losing control faster than he could speak.

He came hard and with a tangible jerk that you could feel, even within you, and the thought and sensation sent you over the edge, burying your face into the pillows and letting out a wanton string of curses, powerful pulsations shuddering up your spine, so intense it was nearly an out-of-body experience, heart beating so hard and so fast that you felt like it was going to leap out of your throat.

Well, shit.

Maybe your age was catching up to you.

No time to worry about that though, because the most awkward sound came out of you after Jungkook pulled out with a shuddering gasp.

“Uh…”

“Damn, that’s hot.”

You shot him a look.

Jungkook was sweaty, panting, and pointedly stared back at you, brows furrowed and eyes big, very serious and twice as defiant. “What?! I don’t give a fuck. It means I fucked you so well your body can’t help it but make embarrassing noises.”

…

You were speechless.

Well, he was kind of right and also kind of wrong (gravity and displacement and other various scientific explanations), and strangely sweet for not making you feel bad about it, but also… what the fuck? How are you supposed to respond to that? You gawked at him, scooting to the edge of the bed, intending to leave as he peeled off the used condom and threw it in the trash, but then he blocked you and pushed you back down, unmoving hand on your stomach.

“Um…”

Your legs dangled off the edge of the bed.

“I didn’t say you could go,” Jungkook huffed, narrowing his eyes.

“Well, I wasn’t asking for permission–”

His hard dick smacked your thigh, smearing the remnants of lube and cum onto your skin.

“Hey!”

Then you realized he was holding up another condom in his free hand. Menacingly. Er, would be if he wasn’t so cute. You raised your eyebrows at his stern face, not intimidated in the slightest, but apparently Jungkook didn’t care.

“I want to feel all three of your holes before I go serve my country.”

You blinked slowly.

Was this guy for real?

“Ah, hmmm, I mean I would have let you even without that milestone – woah!”

Despite your (pretend) protests, you weren’t opposed to the back-to-back-to-back nature of each hole being used. Impressed, even, that he planned(?) this, willingly letting yourself be yanked to the edge of the bed with your legs open and propping yourself onto your elbows to watch him roll down the condom on his once-again hard cock. Driven by his insatiable horniness (relatable). You then looked back up to his face, trying not smirk at how sweaty he was.

Failing, obviously.

Jungkook lined up and then glanced at you, realizing your attention on him.

His gaze darkened, turning sly.

“Don’t look so smug, noona.”

“Who, me–?”

Then you choked on your words as he thrust into you with one swift stroke. Unlike your ass, Jungkook knew he didn’t have to wait with your pussy – you had already cum twice and truly loved the tightness that you gripped him with – so he lifted one of your legs and pressed it to his chest, snapping his hips into you over and over, looking down at you. Your body reacted accordingly, back arching, arms outstretched and clawing at the sheets, shallow breath, heatedly staring back at him.

There was a very brief power struggle in which both of you tried to silently assert dominance.

Brief because suddenly neither of you gave a shit. Too lost in the lust. Your other leg wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer, and Jungkook fell forward, catching himself with his right hand and still clutching your leg, fucking you harder. Locking eyes. The love in them so real that they glistened, and you held onto his arm tightly, your touch alone reminding him you were always with him, bodies moving in unison, breathless and sharing oxygen, the corner of your lips rising.

Jungkook smiled back.

It would have been chaste if he wasn’t ramming you into the edge of his bed.

His inhale caught and so did yours, realizing you must have shifted your hips slightly, making the angle suddenly perfect, right there, that depth he loved and that spot that scattered all your thoughts, trapping you and him in entangled limbs, chasing the tightness, the heat, the physical overtaking everything. So hard, so solid, his taste still lingering on your tongue, his lips gasping your name, your walls squeezing his length and drawing him in, closer, fuck, I love you, his sweat sticking to your thigh and calf, I love you too, o-oh, you feel so fucking good, and you lifted your body as much as you could to meet his and Jungkook pressed down, his heavy body burning with passion, wanting to feel more too.

You shuddered and your head tipped back.

He groaned, gravelly and hoarse, smacking his hips into your throbbing pussy, and you felt his orgasm after your own, maybe even stronger than before, his cock twitching in your constricting, flinching inner walls, strongly massaging him through his high, digging your nails into his tattooed forearm and hoping no one would notice the marks. Wave after uncontrollable wave, closing your eyes to savor it, inhaling his familiar scent mixed with sex and sweat.

The afterglow lingered.

Jungkook rested his forehead on your breasts, gasping for air.

You ran your fingers over his fuzzy head, breathing heavy and slowing back down to normal. Hm. Somewhat therapeutic, to be honest. You still preferred his longer hair but he pulled off the egg cut better than most. Probably because he had the cutest face ever.

“Your pussy is too good,” he mumbled.

“You lasted pretty long.”

“Not long enough,” he complained to your tits. “Let’s go again.”

“I really need to clean up. We can go again after.”

“Okay, then I’ll just follow you and jack off while you’re cleaning up.”

“That isn’t awkward at all.”

“Why would it be awkward? You look the best naked. My eyeballs and dick have to soak in every second of it.”

“… You do realize you have vacation days, right?”

But, of course, you let him do whatever he wanted, because he was Jeon Jungkook and you could never deny him. Ah, such is life. Hard, but apparently not as hard as his dick was for you.

“That’s really impressive.”

“What? You make me horny! I’m gonna go until I or he literally passes out from exhaustion.”

“Pardon?”

“You heard me, noona.”

Welp.

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #bts smut #jungkook x you #jungkook smut #yoonkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you #yoonkook x you #yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi x you

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murdrdocs · 5 months

Note

snow either gets talked through it or talks you through it can’t decide what do you think? 🫶

i think it depends on the timeline tbh ; slightly dark!snow 18+

academy snow, right before the hunger games takes place and he’s still fighting for his spot in society, gets talked through it. he’s a little unsure, having yet untapped That part of him, and he’s a little more susceptible to being guided. he’s a little more easy to bend, too. less rigid and set in his ideals.

he lets you guide him to what you want, taking your instructions well with a level head. when you tell him to go faster, he goes faster. when you tell him to go deeper, he opens your legs and pushes them back and goes deeper. he even asks, “like that?”, after your instructions to make sure he’s doing it right.

and if you’re riding him, then you’re really talking him through it. having you above him always makes his head spin. it never gets old because he never gets used to it. he’s always barely holding on, gripping the fat of your ass as he stares at you wide mouthed. it gets a little too much for him sometimes, the feeling of your cunt squeezing him with the view of your tits bouncing in front of him. he has to close his eyes and throw his head back to ground himself. it’s then that you notice, laying a hand on his chest.

“you’re okay, coryo.” you’re telling him, not asking. still, he nods.

“you can take it, right?” another nod. “yeah, that’s right. you feel so good, coryo. i don’t wanna ever have to get off. would you let me stay like this for as long as i want?”

and he digs his nails into your flesh and pulls you tighter onto his pelvis, as if he’s trying to get you to stay like this forever.

it’s during this time that he asks for reassurance. “tell me you’re all mine. you’re mine, right?”

but when he gets more experience under his belt, and the games have happened, and he’s rich and respected and his voice is heard, nearly everything in coriolanus’ life changes. the way he fucks isn’t an exception.

he’s more demanding, almost forcing you to take what he gives you, only leaving enough room for disagreement to make you feel comfortable. he’s driving his hips into yours, even if you’re on top of him, and speaking soothing praises towards you.

“you can take it, my star. you’re doing so well now. you can keep it up, right? i know you will.”

those nights when he hasn’t been able to fuck you in a while, and you still need to adjust to the stretch of his cock, he’s helping you take it. “just a little more. we’re almost there. you got it.”

and those nights when you’re being a brat, he’s talking you through your punishment. “thought you could run away from me, bird? hm? you know you can’t, right? you’re mine. who else is going to take my cock like you do? no one is made for me like you were.”

he tells you that you’re his. “you’re all mine. this is all mine.” he doesn’t ask, because you both know that you are.

#coryosworld!#coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow #celeste writes thg #–��𝐍𝐎𝐍 🫶

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piss-pumpkin · 1 month

Text

Bad dreams (Percy x reader)

Child of Hypnos reader, ~4.5k words, set ambiguously after pjo, the request was enemies to lovers so I sincerely apologize. Masterlist

Capture the flag. It was a game of epic highs and lows, winner and losers, all to decide who wore the crown. Until next week, that is. And nobody took it more seriously than Annabeth, determined to win and keep her indestructible reputation as the best strategist around. She was in the war room, taking this very seriously, and discussing with her right hand man before the team.

Percy groaned, dramatically dropping his head on the table, half pushing off the map. “Annabeth, why?” He complained, hand waving in the air to communicate the distain that she couldn’t see in his face.

Annabeth sighed, taking her head in her hands. “I know you don’t like them,” she started calmly, crossing the floor to Percy to pat his back gently. “But the Hypnos cabin is an asset, between all of them, we can have half the enemy team asleep,” she said, ever pragmatic.

Percy was not a fan of her reasoning, as sound as it was. Unfortunately for him, the head counsellor of the Hypnos cabin was you. And You and Percy? He didn’t even want to think about. No idea why you decided not to like him upon meeting, even less of an idea how it’s escalated as far as it has. “Wise girl, have mercy,” he whined, standing up straight again. “Putting me in a room with them is a sure fire way to lose.”

Annabeth pursed her lips. “That might be true,” she started, circling the table, eyes the pieces she set dramatically to represent each of her forces. One or two Hypnos campers per squad to weaken the enemy. “But they’re essential to the plan, just… you’ll be in different areas, if all goes well.”

Percy grumbled. Things never went well.

As the battle drew closer, the allied cabins assembled to hear the more polished version of Annebeths plan. And of course, that meant you at the table, front and centre, your forces being an essential part of the strategy. Great. You always listened to Annabeth, even though she was always sticking up for him. And she managed to get you on the same team, even when you knew that guy you hated would be there.

You nodded along with the details, assigning siblings you thought best for each task. You seemed a lot nicer with them.

You conferred with your cabin, and offered another plan to Annabeth. Percy wasn’t completing focused, because when you were done, he had no idea what you’d said. Annabeth seemed to be a fan though. She nodded along, and adjusted the prices on her map while you have people notes and alternate delegations.

An order to each cabin head. All except him. He glanced around at each counsellor telling their cabin mates what they should do, and he cringed. You’d instructed everyone else. “Uh,” he started looking to you because Annabeth was busy talking to the Apollo counsellor. “Does my job change at all?”

You pursed your lips, smiling just slightly. “No, I guess I didn’t have anything for you,” you said slyly. “But isn’t jumping in without thinking kind of your whole thing? Just roll with that, yeah?”

Percy’s face flattened as he sighed. He needed somebody else, “Annabeth?” He asked.

She turned to him, and thought for a moment. “They might have a point,” she said curiously, much to his detest. Percy grumbled as she continued. “Using you as a wild card might be beneficial, especially because you can take large groups of them at once.”

Great. No job, and more work, somehow. And you were smiling, a bit too satisfied with yourself and his annoyance. Why was it always like this?

…

There was one time when Percy was sparring with Clarisse, and they got a little too heated, and it ended up with Clarisse on Pegasus cleanup duty, and Percy teaching sword classes for a week. Definitely the lighter punishment, considering he liked the job. Chiron always went a little easy on him. But there were layers to this punishment. Primarily: you.

When Percy was approaching, he saw you, and sighed. You were there first, already talking to the younger campers, wide smile on your face and holding a weapon. Ugh. Of course he had the misfortune of fucking up the same time as you. Okay. This week was actually going to be terrible.

“Hey, sorry I’m late,” he said, jogging up to you and the campers. You’d just finished some sort of introduction, it was the perfect time to slide in. The youngest kid looked maybe ten, and had a dagger in her hand. She was little small for the real swords. The kids were looking up at him, faces blank or curious, and you were side eyeing him, brow raised, completely unimpressed. Yeah, he should probably do something interesting.

“Yeah, you sure were,” you laughed sarcastically, sounding just nice enough for the kids not to pick up on your distain.

Percy grimaced. Great start. With a deep breath, he did his best to recover, running his hands through his hair nervously. “Well, I’m here now, so,” he said, looking at the younger campers. Grinning, and ignoring your cold stare, he uncapped Riptide, and a few kids gasped. “How about we get to the fun stuff?”

He spared you a glance, catching you roll your eyes at him. This was not going to be a good week. Quite possibly the worst punishment Chiron could’ve given him.

It’s hard to teach as a team when you can’t get along for a second. And all the kids noticed, and did their best to egg you on. Percy was fighting for his life harder than he had on several quests, until the very last minutes of the time slot. Thank the gods it was only like, an hour. Even if it was one of the longest hours of his life.

And he wasn’t even spared when it was over.

“Of course we fucked up on the same week” you sighed, picking up a carelessly discarded sword. “Let me guess, something boring…” you started, walking idly toward the weapons rack with a handful of blades. “Like what, blowing up the bathroom again? Or sneaking out of camp for a quest?”

Hmm. Low blow. Though not completely unwarranted. “No, much cooler than that,” Percy sighed, rolling his eyes as he kicked up some dust from the arena floor. “Beating up Clarisse.”

You scoffed, “somehow I doubt that.”

And you weren’t exactly wrong. It was more of a mutual beating up, in a sort of frenemy way, Percy was the first to admit. But not to you. “Hey, you should see her,” he chided. “There’s cold hard proof.”

You bumped his shoulder on the way out of the arena, sighing. “Maybe I will, I could get some tips on kicking your ass,” you said, raising your brow.

By the time he thought of a good-ish response, you were too far away to hear, and he was kicking himself for letting you get the last word. He glanced around the empty arena dumbly. It looked like you finished the cleanup while he just stood there, another point you had on him now. The punishment may not have been a competition, but you seemed to be winning thus far. Shit.

And it only gets worse from there.

He managed to come early the second day, a full fifteen minutes to get warmed up, and think about what could be good to teach the newbies. And he had the arena all to himself to slash dummies in the exact way he’d instruct them to do later.

“Clarisse told me Chiron intervening is all that saved you from getting sent to the infirmary,” you said.

Percy jumped, Riptide nearly falling out of his hand. When the fuck did you get here? He hadn’t heard you at all. Sneaky bitch. He turned to face you when he recovered from his shock, “yeah, well, she couldn’t admit she lost a fight if there was a gun to her head.”

You didn’t look sold. You raised your brow, “could you?”

He pursed his lips. He wanted to say something like, yes, duh! But quickly realized it might be a lie. To most people he could, but admitting defeat to you felt much worse. Like it would confirm all your doubts or apprehensions about him, or whatever your grudge was. He decided a little lie wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. “I could,” he said casually, slashing a combat dummies head.

He didn’t see your face as you hummed lowly with disapproval. Probably for the better.

Or so he thought, because as you were walking towards the dummy beside his, he started to feel drowsy. His slashes got slower as his arms felt heavier, like they were weighing him down. He looked at you, and immediately wanted to lie down and pass out. Ugh. Your subtle smirk told him you knew exactly what you were doing. And it only escalated when the kids started to arrive.

You started the lesson off assertively. While he was struggling to blink with his heavy eyelids. “If you have any cool demigod abilities, you should totally use them literally whenever you can,” you said, pointing your weapon enthusiastically at the campers.

Percy couldn’t help but watch in slight awe as you engrossed them all. You narrowed in on a son of Apollo, your blade staring him down as you told him he should get comfortable using healing abilities in a fight. You seemed to have a suggestion for everyone; the daughter of Hectate should use the mist, a Demeter kid should try and use vines, your Hypnos brother should use… sleep powers. Percy knew about those all too well.

Percy had to admit he was jealous of the way they seemed excited about your ideas. Did they really like you more than him? It wasn’t that he felt bad not being liked, he was plenty used to that in all the schools he went to. It was more that it was you. The way you showed a nicer side to seemingly everyone but him. His body still felt like it was made of lead.

You had some blind spots though. Not everyone had powers, Percy guessed, watching a couple Athena kids rolling their eyes or looking at the ground. “I hate to interject,” Percy started, stealing your and the kids attention again. “But this is weapons training, there are other classes for using abilities.” Plus, maybe you’d stop using yours if they got back on focus.

”Hey, I’m teaching them how to fight better, isn’t that the goal?” You shot back. You seemed to catch the way his eyes were lingering on the kids without abilities. “Even if you don’t have any specific powers,” you said, turning back to the campers, “if we start using them, you’ll learn how to counter them, and kick our asses better.”

Percy sighed. You seemed pretty stuck on this. He tiredly uncapped Riptide, and pointed at it. “Weapons class, Y/n. Let’s focus on using weapons,” he said.

You shifted your lips around, maybe chewing on them, and then seemed to have a thought. Unfortunately. You smiled at the kids, “yeah, well, Percy doesn’t always use his abilities to the fullest when he fights,” you said. “Maybe don’t take his lead too much.”

Ugh. “Well, it’s not always as easy as some people make it look,” he said, gesturing at you. “Not everyone has powers, and some people get drained easily by theirs. For me, I can’t always rely on there being water around me.”

You crossed your arms, raising your brow, and actually looked at him this time. “You know what people are made of, right?”

The kids were listening intently, some snickering and smirking to themselves. A couple seemed annoyed that the training was paused just so the teachers could bitch at each other. Percy sighed, “yeah, no, I don’t want to do that. I think that was an episode of Avatar: the last airbender.”

You rolled your eyes, scoffing. “Well you might win more fights if you did,” you said snidely. Your eyes lowered a moment as you lowered your voice with a bitter tone, “I hate the idea of you going easy on me.”

Before Percy could respond with a retort of his own, you’d dropped the mean act and completely focused on the kids, upbeat and happy. You clapped your hands together, and shot them a wide smile, “how about a demonstration, guys?”

Aw shit. The kids lit up, nodding along as you continued. “How about me and Percy have a little match, and we see who wins, yeah?” You said, grinning at him. Ugh. It wasn’t a secret that people said he was the best swordsman at camp, but you were a head counsellor too. And even if he could stab you, he probably shouldn’t in front of the kids anyway.

He had started to tune you out, but got snapped back to reality when he heard his name. “Percy, are you down?” You asked with faux sweetness. Ugh. Percy sucked a breath in through his teeth, and sighed. “Uh-Sure,” he said cautiously.

You grinned, and the kids stepped back and whispered to each other. Yeah, they definitely picked up on your rivalry. They waited restlessly, probably excited to see the climax of your mutual dislike. Like the fight was inevitable. He uncapped Riptide with a sigh, and raised the blade as you shooed the kids to step further back. He took a fighting stance, raising his blade at the ready. Just great. Your aura of tiredness or whatever was affecting him seemed to get worse. Yeah, he might be fucked without water.

You smirked, twirling a weapon of your own between your fingers and glancing at your audience happily, chest puffed out in self satisfaction. “Do you want to count us down?” you asked the kids, grinning.

They nodded along, three, and Percy sighed, eying the water bottle he had off to the side. If he could get it then maybe... whatever. Maybe if he beat you, you’d lay off. Two. Or, if you won, you could get ten times worse. One. There was no good outcome. And it’s not like either of you could maim each other with the kids watching.

Ugh. Still weighed down by an impossible spell of drowsiness, Percy started to lunge forward, sword ready to slash in an arc above his head. But then he looked at you. And you looked at him. And you were shooting him a finger gun, and Percy was out cold, without enough time to grumble or complain about it. Well shit.

Like most times he slept, he was dreaming. Nightmares, specifically. At least he felt no godly presence, or anything sinister. Today, it was Annabeth and Grover dead on the floor, with Kronos in Luke’s body glaring at him from the sidelines. And then it was just Luke, looking at him sadly, approaching him, and then asking why he let his sister die. Percy didn’t have an answer.

Nightmare Luke wasn’t a fan of that. Suddenly he was turning back into Kronos and raising Backbiter, and Percy was completely unable to move, paralyzed by fear, sadness, and bitter anger. Great. Just great.

But Luke didn’t swing. He stopped, eyes cloudy and blank, and the bodies faded away. Was his subconscious being nice today? Luke stepped back, and his sword has vanished, and the scene was fading fast.

Percy was awake. He grumbled, not wanting to open his eyes. His head was in the dirt, body completely weighed down by his own exhaustion. The arena floor wasn’t the worst place he could’ve fallen, at least. He grumbled, sat up, and rubbed his eyes until they opened.

You were still there, Percy’s eyes flew open, shaking any lingering tiredness. He scooted back just slightly. You were sitting beside him, head rested in hands and lips pursed. “Uhh,” he stuttered, scooting back further. “You’re uh, still hanging out here?” A quick glance showed the kids were gone, and the lesson had been over for a while.

”You have some of the worst nightmares I’ve seen, dude,” you said simply, shifting your head from hands to hand. “I’m… sorry, I didn’t- I didn’t mean to snoop.”

Percys brow furrowed. What? You looked apprehensive, but your words didn’t seem malicious in the slightest. He stopped scooting back, but he held his arm up defensively between you, unsure why. You didn’t have a weapon. “It’s… fine. Was it you that… ended it?” He asked tentatively.

You nodded. “It didn’t seem fun,” you said quietly. You looked away, hiding your face in a palm, “Sorry for putting you in there, I guess,” you said. “I’ll try to avoid sleeping you, if you want.”

Percy looked at you quizzically, jaw hung slightly open, more than confused. You were being nice. That’s crazy. He wasn’t sure how to act. Every word he said was laced with hesitation and the slightest bit of a stutter. “Thanks, I guess,” he mumbled, scratching the back of his neck. “Appreciate it.”

You nodded, and a slightly sealed silence fell over the woods as you refused to look at him. But you didn’t stand up to leave yet either.

“Hey, Y/n, can I ask,” he started, sitting up straighter and crossing his legs. “Usually you hate me…” he said, almost wincing. “Do you… not, today?”

That got your attention, and your eyes were burning through him. Your brow furrowed, and softened, your mouth opened and then closed, you looked away, then back at him, and then sighed. “I don’t hate you, Percy,” you admitted, sounding abjectly defeated.

That got an involuntary “huh?” Out of him. You totally hated him. That was just a fact.

You sighed, and shook your head, turning back away from him. You tone was far lighter this time, “no, I don’t hate you, I just- I don’t know,” you said.

”Then why-“ Percy started dumbly, but quickly trailed off, unsure how to make his question less rude. There didn’t seem to be an obvious answer. “Why are you like this,” he asked, cringing at his own callousness.

You snickered, looking at him with a slight and awkward smile. You shrugged, and looked back at the woods. Percy didn’t speak, he barely breathed, waiting for any sort of a signal from you. Somehow, it worked. You sighed , and stretched your legs in front of you and said, “I don’t know.” You paused, probably thinking. “It just comes naturally, I guess.”

Percy hummed.

“That came out mean, didn’t it,” you laughed softly.

“Like most things you say,” he laughed, but quickly trailed off. “Sorry.”

You smiled hesitantly, looking over at him with softer eyes than he usually sees on you. “No, that was deserved,” you said.

Percy smiled, and then raised his brow, surprising himself. That didn’t happen when he talked to you, this was fresh territory. Before he could respond, you were standing, and for the first time, offering him a hand up. And for the first time, he took it.

You pulled him to his feet, but didn’t look at him, curtly turning your head away as he stood in front of you. Percy couldn’t help but snicker under his breath. You seemed intent on staring at a tree.

”Hey,” Percy started, brushing his hair out of his face. “Do you wanna go get on the same page about what we’re teaching them tomorrow so we don’t have a repeat of today?” He asked. He got a little scared when you finally looked at him, but you didn’t seem angry. And if anybody knew your angry face it was him. “We’ll probably be better teachers if we actually work together on it.”

You hesitated, raising your brow. “Uh, really?” You stuttered, crossing your arms and shrinking into yourself.

Percy sighed. He was doing this, he’d committed now. For better or worse. “Yeah,” he nodded, with a friendly smile. “Why not? Let’s go get lunch or something.”

Percy wasn’t sure how well his olive branch was working. Your lips were pursed and arms still crossed, but.. the ever so familiar scowl you often showed him was absent from your lips. That could be good. You looked at the ground, then back to him, “yeah, okay.”

And here he was braced for rejection and an insult. Small victories. Percy grinned, nodding his head in the general direction of the dining pavilion, “then let’s go.”

You nodded, and walked quietly beside him as he started for the path. Okay, a little awkward silence was nothing, that was still a win. Miles better than where he was this morning. Or even like, an hour ago. So Percy was inclined to try and bridge the gap. “The kids are gonna be really surprised when we actually work together, tomorrow,” he laughed. Careful words, when, not if.

He caught in his peripheral the tug of your lips upward into the slightest of smiles. “They’ll never see it coming,” you said. Maybe like a joke. Wow, was this actually working? You let out a small laugh, “neither did I.”

Percy but the inside of his cheek to suppress a smile. That made two of you, because this was the last thing Percy expected too. “Yeah,” he started. “Not bad though.”

For the first time in a good minute, you met his eyes, and his attention was drawn. You didn’t normally look at him like that. It was a… nice change pace. You sighed, “No, not the worst.” You swished your cheeks around a moment as you paused, but didn’t say more. And Percy would be lying to himself if he tried thinking he wasn’t a little disappointed. It almost looked like you were gonna say something nice. Well, maybe not the worst was nice enough. For you, at least.

”Percy, I’m really sorry about those nightmares,” you said finally, looking at the ground.

Ah. That. Percy didn’t tell all that many people about his shit dreams. It was kind of a given that most people at camp got them, in some capacity at least. But he did his best to project a lighthearted image, especially when he was with the younger campers. “Oh,” he said dumbly.

“If you want, I can help with those,” you offered quietly.

Now that caught Percy’s attention. He raised his brow, “You can do that?” And he didn’t ask his other question: you would do that? Like, for him?

You looked up at him, then back to the ground as the two of you approached the dining pavilion. “Yeah, Hypnos stuff,” you mumbled. “I do it for some other people too.”

Oh gods, you felt bad for him. That was a weird thought. “Oh- you don’t have to do that,” he started, suddenly far more embarrassed. So that’s why you were being nice. Suddenly it didn’t feel as good as before.

You looked up at him with wider eyes now, and bit the inside of your cheek. “Well, if you ever change your mind.”

Something about your pity didn’t sit right with him, even if was glad you didn’t look like you wanted to bite his head off. This look, the feeling sorry for him face, was somehow worse. “I won’t,” he snapped, sounding meaner than he meant. Or maybe he did mean it, in his bitterness he couldn’t tell. “You don’t need to pretend to like me now that you feel bad.”

You brow furrowed, and that pity look was gone in an instant. “Hey asshole, I was just offering to help,” you spat. Now this was more familiar. You crossed your arms at your chest as you walked. “Thought about being nice for once.”

”Yeah, for once,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Because now you feel bad.”

”Oh shut up,” you said, shaking your head with a glare. You stopped just short of the pavilion. “You aren’t special because you get nightmares, idiot, half the camp does,” you said, stepping closer to him. He was inclined to back away. “I’ve seen worse.”

Percy took another step back. There was a few stray campers sitting in the pavilion watching curiously, now.

“But sure, go ahead,” you said, hands animating with your words. He flinched a moment as you halfway gripped the air. “Keep having your shit dreams, I don’t care.”

“Then why did you offer,” he spat back.

You looked at him like he was an idiot, shaking your head. “Because nightmares suck, nobody deserves that shit,” you said, like it was obvious. “Not even a stuck up asshole who thinks he’s better then everyone.”

What? Percy stood dumbly for a moment while your sharp glare subsided into a duller scowl. Did he really come off like that? “I’m not-“ he started, but quickly gave up. As much as he wanted to insult you back, half the things you said were genuinely pretty nice. You were right, nobody deserved that.

You scoffed, “sure you’re not,” you said bitterly.

The two do you stood silently for a moment. And a few moments more. The couple of campers watching awkwardly tried to go back to eating. The lunch plans the two of you made seemed so far in the past now. Same with the idea of getting in the same page.

Percy spoke first. “I don’t- I don’t think like that,” he said lamely.

”No, you’re just the hero of Olympus, who goes on all the quests, who the gods tried to give immortality too,” you said. But the malice was gone. “You’re the reason I even have a cabin here,” you said quietly.

Percy winced. How do you explain to somebody that going on all those quests… wasn’t always great. It stopped being amazing when more lives were at risk, the stakes got higher, people died. A lot of the time all the glory kind of sucked. “Well it’s… not all it’s cracked up to be,” Percy managed. “I mean, you saw the aftermath.”

”Yeah,” you said, looking at the ground. “That’s why I thought.. you might not be how I thought.” You looked up, expression made of stone. “But at least you’re… I don’t know,” you trailed off, “I think I’d still rather be somebody, even if it sucks.”

Percy half heartedly laughed through his nose, “Usually I feel the opposite, it would’ve been easier to be a kid of some minor god.”

”Grass is always greener, I guess,” you sighed.

“You are somebody, though,” Percy said, realizing he should probably address that. The idea that you were insecure seemed so alien. The way you insulted him always seemed so confident. “You don’t need a ton of quests or fights to prove that.”

You rolled your eyes, a weak smile was forming on your lips, “well, that’s easy for you to say. I’m only here, and claimed, and in a cabin because you made the gods pay their child support.”

Percy smiled softly, gesturing his head to the tables at the pavilion. He started to walk as he spoke, “that’s the gods, that’s their problem,” he said, grabbing a plate to fill with the magic food with you behind him. “You’re more then the gods approval.”

He had to look back to see if you were still there, the way you went quiet. You grabbed a plate, and followed him to a table, all with that stone faced look. Not pity or malice, this time. When you sat down beside him, you finally cracked. “Thanks,” you managed, staring ruefully at your food.

“It’s true,” Percy said.

You looked up at him, a slight smile on your lips this time. “Thanks,” you said, more confidently.

“Are you still up for helping me with the nightmares?”

This request haunted me for like over a month cuz I couldn’t get anything out of it for a while. I wasn’t gonna post here but I ended up happier with it then I thought tho. Can you tell I never write enemies to lovers? I usually hate that trope lmao. Anyway part 2 coming maybe.

#x reader #my writing #percy jackson x you #percy jackson fanfiction #percy jackson #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x y/n #pjo x reader #pjo

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littlejuicebox · 5 months

Text

Naughty or Nice?

Pairing: Ascended Astarion x F!Reader/Tav Summary/Setting: The first winter post-BG3 / You became Astarion's consort and you're at a ball... he likes to toy with you. Rating/Warnings: M+ / Smut / Spoilers for the game / Cursing / Improper use of mage hand / BSDM vibes / Dom Astarion vibes / teasing, masturbation, overstimulation, exhibitionism, mentions of flogging, etc. Word Count: 3K Notes: This is 3/5 "Days of Star-mas!"

Click here to see my master list.

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Yet another holiday ball, how dreadfully boring.

You sigh as you tug on your dress for the millionth time before a sharp pinch on your rear stuns you into stillness. You let out a soft hum as you feel the warm breath of your lover against your ear, tickling your neck before he playfully nips at your ear lobe.

“Now be a good girl and quit fidgeting, my treasure. I want everyone to see how beautiful and desirable you look in that dress, and your hands keep getting in the way of such a delectable view.” Astarion chides, running his fingers down your bare spine, leaving a tingle of excitement in their absence.

You’re sat, as always, on the Vampire Ascendent’s lap; it’s quickly become a well-known peculiarity of your coupling that your ornate throne beside him hardly sees any use. You wriggle as the elf continues to wander his pale fingers up and down your spinal column. Apart from your neck, your back was Astarion’s favorite part of your body to display. Almost every gown he dressed you in nowadays, as his perfect, beautiful little doll, left that sinewy form around your spine well-exposed.

Tonight, he’d dressed you in another one of his custom, ridiculously expensive and more ridiculously provocative pieces, commissioned by one of Baldur’s Gate’s most revered clothiers.

The gown was a deep burgundy, hand draped to your curves and covered in countless glimmering crystals. A deep sweetheart neckline was barely held up by two dainty, useless straps. The back of the gown left your muscled form on full display; the final bits of your lower spine were partially obscured by a crossed set of laces, tied neatly in a bow and not leaving anything to the imagination as the skirt of the dress clung to your hips.

The Vampire Ascendent had called you the “perfect present” for his Midwinter Ball, and you were expected to play the part of his perfect consort as he presented you to several of the Guilds this party hosted.

Astarion’s hand grazes up your leg, fully exposed to him by the thigh high slit cut into the gown. You writhe as your lover teases you, letting out the softest gasp as his hand just barely brushes under the slit of your gown before traveling back down toward your knee.

“My perfect little present,” He murmurs as the music from the band swells, “Take a turnabout the room for me, little love. Let everyone feast their eyes on your beauty and covet what is mine.”

You knew the Vampire Ascendent always aimed to use you as a status symbol at these silly parties. You were quite the spectacle as the renowned hero of Baldur’s Gate turned into his obedient, and always provocatively dressed, consort. It was such a stark change from the heavily armored warrior woman you had been less than a year ago. The statue in the town square, made to your likeness, truly looked nothing like you anymore. You had been a fearsome, rugged, warrior… always caked in dirt and blood; but now, you were a perfect doll, always pristine and well-kept.

You groan, not really wanting to partake in the charade tonight, but Astarion gives you a little tut, and the sharp warning look on his face was enough to force you out into the crowd. The Vampire Lord may have a soft spot for his consort, but he was not above punishing her, if need be.

You slink off your lover’s lap and saunter about the Great Hall, gold chalice in hand, politely nodding here and there to several of the guild members that meet your gaze. More of them, you notice, are too distracted by the high cut of your gown and the spilling of your cleavage to actually meet your eyes. Typical.

Soon enough your pathway is interrupted by the leader of one of the Mercantile Guilds, a tall blonde human woman with an accent, whose name you’ve all but forgotten. You truly had no interest in the elbow rubbing and political chess matches that occurred at these soirées.

“Lady Ancunin… I was hoping for a moment to speak with you.”

The woman begins to ramble on, promoting her Guild, which currently holds control over majority of the sea trade to and from Baldur’s Gate. She is expressing concern over a smaller, but growing, faction and asking for support from the Ancunin House. You find the entire thing unbelievably boring, and barely stifle a yawn.

Suddenly, you hear Astarion’s voice in your ear, and your attention shoots to the high table where the vampire is lounging in his throne, sipping from a chalice, his scarlet eyes locked on you. It’s clear the lady merchant is none the wiser as she babbles on, and you soon realize the Vampire Lord is communicating to you through your blood bond.

“Now, now, little love. Pay attention and look interested. You know as well as I do that Lady Beauchamp prefers to use you as the middle person in our dealings, hoping your supposed “mutual alignment” as the "fairer sex" works in her favor. Perhaps you require a bit more… stimulation to keep you from looking so terribly bored.”

His voice reverberates through your mind, enveloping your psyche in a lover’s caress that quickly causes you to become slick with desire. You watch Astarion subtly snap his fingers at the high table, and shudder as you feel the cold tracings of a finger along your spine — an invisible mage hand, no doubt. Your eyes widen and flicker from Lady Beauchamp and back to your lover, where he is smirking in twisted delight before he turns away from you to laugh at some comment made by another one of the nobles.

The tall guild leader continues, “So, as you can see, Lady Ancunin… this faction is cause for— are you alright?”

You’re trembling as you attempt to hold some level of control over your reactions. How could he toy with you like this? The invisible mage hand has now trailed underneath your gown and started petting your barren slit with two cold, invisible fingers. Damn Astarion for never allowing you to wear undergarments and compelling you to take them off every time you tried to preserve a modicum of your own dignity.

You cough, trying to cover up the gasp that so desperately wanted to escape your throat. “Y-yes Lady Beauchamp, my apologies, it’s a bit cold in here what with the winter air. Please do continue… w-what is it you’re asking of our House?”

Lady Beauchamp’s eyes flicker over your scant, silken gown and you catch a glimpse of judgement in her eyes; you know she thinks you improperly clothed for the season. But she’s wise enough to hold back any comments and instead continues on with her end of the conversation, pleading her case for aid to you.

You are held as a hostage to your own arousal, thighs trembling as you are held on an edge your lover will not allow you jump off of. You wring your hands on the stem of your goblet, nodding at the merchant woman and trying your hardest to feign interest.

Gods you were dripping. You absently wonder if the signs of your arousal were becoming visible through your gown. Your eyes flit back to Astarion, and his gaze is fixed on you once again, a cocky eyebrow raised as he traces the rim of his goblet with one slender finger. You’re silently pleading with the Vampire Ascendent for mercy with your wide eyes and all he does is chuckle and shake his head, eyes crinkling in dark delight.

No. There would be no mercy. You feel the slickness dripping down your thighs as the mage hand plunges into you and you roll your eyes up to the ceiling as you stifle a moan.

“So… what do you think?” Lady Beauchamp asks, her head tilted in confusion. You realized too late that she’d been waiting for your answer, and that the pause in conversation had become uncomfortable enough for her to prompt you.

You nod your head slightly, barely able to breathe as you form the next sentence. The mage hand was back to stroking between your folds, and as you barely catch the scent of your own arousal, you worry that Lady Beauchamp would soon smell you, too. “I-it is much to consider, but I will plead your case to Lord Ancunin. Now I apologize but if you’ll excuse me, my husband has beckoned for me at the high table.”

Astarion has, of course, done no such thing. But you swiftly exit the conversation with the Guild leader and head back towards the Vampire Ascendent.

When you finally make your way back to your lover, he grabs your trembling hand in his own solid, strong one. He possessively tugs you closer to him, and then the Vampire Lord plants a kiss to your knuckle. He smirks mischievously, eyebrow cocking as he flits his hungry eyes to your groin. The mage hand is still continuing its ministrations and has now started to lazily circle your sensitive little nub.

“I can smell you, my treasure… and see your little trembles as you try so hard to be a good girl and keep it together. Absolutely delicious. What a tempting little treat… look at you, with your cheeks all flushed.” He coos, scarlet eyes moving up to look into yours. When you meet his gaze, you see hints of dark, possessive desire in his eyes... and a bit of sadistic pleasure as he witnesses your suffering.

You moan as the mage hand plunges into you once more, and even though the high table is now barren as everyone else has swarmed to the dance floor, you feel the pricked heat of embarrassment spreading across your face.

Astarion chuckles and drops your hand before running his fingers up your exposed thigh. “I think you’ve been a good little pet tonight. And you will soon get your reward. Go to the bedchambers and wait for me... I’ll send the mage hand with you to keep you company, of course.”

All you can do is nod your head, before turning on your heels and swiftly exiting the ballroom. You nearly sprint to your bedchambers, certain now that the evidence of your arousal is seeping onto the gown. As you enter the bedroom, you move to rip your gown off, but the mage hand swats your hands away from the laces. It seemed the Vampire Lord wanted to be the one to unwrap his little present tonight.

For a moment you consider touching yourself, but as soon as the thought crosses your mind, you hear Astarion’s tut of disapproval within your psyche.

“Now, now, little vampling. Be a good girl and wait. Before I’m forced to have the mage hand bring out the flog."

You whine in desperation again and hear that dark chuckle within your mind. The mage hand is continuing its ministrations, now aggressively teasing your nipples as you settle yourself on the bed to wait for your lover. Your entire body is wracked with overwhelming desire, every inch of you trembling as the invisible hand continues its torture.

“How long will I have to wait?” You breathlessly ask to the air, but you know that Astarion is always listening. There is a beat of silence where you think perhaps the Vampire Lord is purposely ignoring you, but then he responds, clearly entertained by your little predicament.

“Oh… not much longer, my treasure. Patience is a virtue. I’ll see you at the end of the party.”

The party wasn’t set to end for another hour. You nearly scream in anguish as another dark chuckle caresses your mind. Pinpricks of frustrated tears begin to form as you wiggle with the mixture of anticipation and overstimulation. Gods you wanted to touch yourself so badly; you were wringing your hands together to avoid the temptation.

“Little love… it is up to you if you’re going to be naughty or nice. But you know what I will be forced to do, should you choose to be naughty.”

You whine again. An hour… you could withstand the torture for an hour, couldn’t you? Surely you could choose to be nice.

And hells, if you chose to be naughty… the pain was always worth the pleasure, in the end.

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jinkiezzsstuff · 2 months

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Hi hi! I have a request^^

Can you write about a fem!bratty (optionally bunny) reader and how they would handle them? Sitting on either Alastor, Vox or Val's (whomever you're most comfy writing about💗) lap and how they would react to that, ending up in spicy scenes? Only if you're okay with writing that sweetheart.

ouuu i really wanted to do val because i’ve never done him before! and i think it’s obvious but just so we’re all clear laddies i do not like valentinos abusive behaviour however he’s got personality in the show outside of that, that’s what we like not the abuse. this didn’t get too spicy i hope that’s okay! just a little teasing, maybe ill do a part two who knows. :)

warnings: toxic relationship on both sides, aphrodisiac mentioned but not the trope, bunny fem reader, exhibitionism, briefly mentioned that valentino has hit reader - she likes it, brat reader, yall are both fucked up fr fr, i don’t know vals sexuality whether it’s gay or bi but here he’s bi, reader is a princess too, whiny like me fr, and a porn star although not explicitly explained

word count: 999

Valentino was the veteran of brats, so he wasn’t surprised when coming across them, however he knew how to take care of them; you however were an absolute pain. You made Valentino equal amounts of horny and enraged, you forced yourself into the princess role within the studio, you would whine and cry whenever you didn’t want to do a certain scene or role. If you’re cute little bunny self hadn’t made him bucks- he would’ve gotten rid of you long ago, you opposed him at every given chance and met his angry while cheeky grins and coy remarks. It infuriated him, he had no idea how you behaved in your life but it was clear a little bruise and fear wouldn’t put you in your place- but rather invoke more disrespect. You were hoppin on thin ice.

Ears drooping, you sat at the booth, arms crossed, lips pouting as you looked at your boss lounging with both men and women sinners alike, while you were being punished for being snooty on set. He found the best way to give you a proper punishment was to give you nothing at all, regardless of whether it was cruelty or kindness you liked having his attention, so instead he would take it away. Thumping your foot against the floor you watched as he ogled at the women and men, whispering vulgarities to them while simultaneously trying to hook them up in the industry.

It boiled your blood, Valentino was your game, your fun, and when he wasn’t there to play with you, whether it be violent, casual or sexual, it was all your mind could think about. You liked being Valentino's little princess, his little brat. Your bunny nose twitched, smelling the hot pink aphrodisiac smoke that wafted toward you. You admired Valentino from the small distance across the table as he lounged back, two of his arms across the back of the booth seats, one holding his pipe and the last on his drink. Valentino was no doubt crude, but he was also comedic, that’s what continually pulled you back in, was that he had such a personality despite being so hyper sexual and abusive.

You sipped your drink, picking at the salt on the rim with your bedazzled nail. Your eyes never left him, but he wouldn’t even meet your eyes, purposefully glazing over your figure. It was so frustrating, you could feel your heart rate increasing as your thoughts took off, fantasising about all the ways you could get him back. “We gotta go daddy, so sorry,” One sinner cooed before her and the other two women with her stood, said their goodbyes and left. Now it was just Valentino, two other guys and yourself. For the first time tonight a cute little smile graced your face, while mischief flooded your mind as you plotted to get Valentinos attention.

Standing from your seat, your every move was very intentional, your hand dragged across the table as you slid yourself out, nails scratching softly as you did. Slowly and purposefully, you made your way to the other side of the table where Valentino sat, your movements slow as you watched his body language. He wasn’t back down, instead busied himself with conversation, asking silly little business questions with the other incubus’. Sliding back down, Valentino didn’t stop you when you nudged yourself into his lap. Instead two sets of arms opened encasing you instantaneously making a dangerous warmth bloomed through you.

Valentino continued to pay no mind even as you played with the rings on his fingers, even when you seductively dipped you finger in his cup and sucked it clean. His buddy’s did though, eyeing your deceptively cutesy bunny form, watching you blink up at Valentino with yearning in your eyes wishing you were looking at them like that. Growling, Valentino tried his hardest to ignore your tactics, however it progressively got more difficult as you wiggled around on his lap.

“Bunny, don’t make me show you not to test me.~” Valentino sang out, one of his fingers caressing the side of your face. Looking behind your shoulder up at him with your big black bunny eyes, you innocently blinked up at him, your ears twitching. “What do you mean papi.” You whined slightly condescendingly, fluttering your lashes definitely tempting fate. “Oh please, I’ll have you bent over this table for testing me in public, you wanna play? Let’s play.” He hunched down and stuck out his tongue to flick up your neck. You shivered at the feeling of his warm tongue, his pink saliva staining your skin. You shivered in delight intoxicated by the smell of his smoke and potent cologne.

You obviously didn’t stop, and Valentino got progressively more frustrated at your defiance. One on his hands danced down the curves of your body, when he reached then hem of your pants, he lazily slid his hand down to cup the entirety of your mound with his long hands. You whined, circling your hips, unashamed at the two other men watching. Valentino continued to talk to the two guys about getting some new furniture for different scenes, completely ignore you as his fingers and palm lazily moved along your vulva.

Gripping the table, you groaned, leaning back onto Valentinos chest. “Look at you being such a little whore, all for me mm how erotic.” Valentino dragged out his words with a playful hint to his voice but only because he was playing the game, your guys’ favourite game. His fingers trailed up to lightly circle your clit sending shockwaves up your body. Valentino lowered his pipe to your lips and without hesitation you opened and inhaled his toxins letting whatever he had infect you. With a sigh your body melted into him, your legs spread wide for his access, you could already feel yourself soaking the fabric covering you. You simply leaned back and enjoyed the pleasure lost in the haze of his smoke and touch.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel oneshots #hazbin hotel smut #valentino hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel valentino #valentino x reader #hazbin hotel valentino x reader #valentino smut #x reader #xreader

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