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queers-gambit · 6 months

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Shower Shenanigans

part one: Perpetual L's and Overwhelming Dubs

prompt: midnight callers turn your quiet night upside down, but at least it ends with you riding your stranger in the shower.

pairing: Tangerine x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Bullet Train

word count: 4.7k+

note: nobody asked for this but he's my muse now

warnings: cursing, smut (unprotected, in the shower, she's on top), blood, wounds, brain rot, author isn't British, probably setting up for part three, wonky brain doesn't care what warnings are missed.

A storm had rolled over Osaka, a steady thrumming at your hotel window creating a calming ambiance as you lit a couple of the candles you ordered from the front desk. Curled up on the tiny loveseat offered in the small living space, you flipped through your latest novel you grabbed before running into Tangerine at the train station. Speaking of, you glared at your phone for the hundredth time in an hour, feeling a sort of overwhelming dread that he hadn't called yet - or at the very least, texted.

Was it silly? Oh, you KNOW it was.

But he had said some really pretty things that rang in your ears on a haunting repeat the rest of the train ride. Then the whole taxi ride through Osaka, and the three days it's been since meeting him - he just wouldn't leave your conscious. Every meeting you had was vaguely interrupted by some sort of thought about your mysterious stranger, driving you up the wall.

Sure, you could call him, but the idea of calling a stranger for no reason other than to hear his voice felt a little too vulnerable to you. Yo could ask where he was, if he wanted to come for a visit - or hell, even before you departed Japan back for London, England, you could come see him... If he so wanted.

But your mind refused to let you dial his number, which was left in your recents after he had texted himself in the bathroom. The memory of your ex was still so fresh, making you feel silly for having such vivid, intense fantasies about a man you've met once. And for the love of Christ, you didn't even know his real name! Just his silly, fruity codename!

Man, if you hadn't been embarrassed before, the memory of moaning a fucking fruit surely made you cringe to the point you wanted the Earth to open up, swallow you whole, and never spit you out.

Your trip was soon to end with your departing flight tomorrow night, giving you just a day of leisure time in the city - but you didn't feel like doing much since the storm. Your book was interesting enough, keeping you entertained with a cart of hot food from room service within arms reach. Your tea was lukewarm by now, being much easier to drink, bowl of air-popped popcorn sat in your lap. Over the sounds of thunder, there was a knock at your door.

More like a banging, but hey, logistics. This was odd considering it was close to nine in the evening and you hadn't called for anything.

With a sigh, you marked your page and stood; annoyed by the continuous knocking, oversized tee shirt falling back over your thighs, socked feet stuffing into your slippers before traveling to the door. You called in Japanese, "Who is it?"

There was a small scraping, making your brows furrow and call your question again - but with much more urgency. "'S me, love, open the door, please," a raspy, British accent croaked seemingly through the crack. You left the chain lock in place, slowly opening the door a fraction to discover Tangerine - bloodied to high hell - leaning on the doorframe of your hotel room with two other bloody men behind him.

"What the fuck? Jesus Christ," you hissed, shutting the door, snapping the chain off and yanking it open once more. "Get in here, are you okay?" You asked, gasping right after when Tangerine stumbled a little, making you catch him; assualting your sinuses with the smell of citrus, metallic blood, and cigarette smoke. "All right, all right, you're safe now, c'mon, c'mon, c'mon," you muttered, helping him over your shoulders and into your decently spacious hotel room. "C'mon, you two! Step lively before you trigger hotel security!"

You shuffled your stranger into the room and deposited him on the sofa; hearing his grunt of exaggerated pain. You looked at the others, sighing as you moved things out of the way, inviting the other two men to sit around the furniture. You tried not to worry about the cleaning bill you would surely get for all their blood.

"Jesus Christ, did you get shot?" You asked, seeing the fleshy wound in his shoulder that was very poorly staunched.

"That arsehole did it," he panted, pointing at the blonde stranger.

"Hi," the arsehole waved, "it was an accident, for whatever it's worth. I, uh... I have bad luck, don't really like guns," he shrugged meekly.

"You lot look like hell," you sighed, shaking your head and standing to your feet to take a few steps away. You asked over your shoulder, "Guess I shouldn't bother asking what happened?"

"Train wreck," the man Tangerine had been with earlier answered.

You blinked in shock, the men all wincing as they were seemingly finally able to relax. Only now, you noted they were all in the same clothes as days ago, just tattered, torn, burnt and singed, soaking wet from the storm, stained with blood. You looked at Tangerine, demanding, "Is that why you told me to get off the train? You were gonna crash it!?"

"No, no, darlin', that wasn't the plan," Tangerine coughed, head tilted back. "Just... Happened."

"Call it his bad luck, huh?" You shook your head and moved for the hotel's phone, dialing the front desk and waiting. When they answered, the cheery front desk girl asked how she could help and you asked her what first aid supplies the hotel kept stocked. She answered and you asked if you'd be able to get enough for three kits - claiming you were practicing for a medical school final. She was more than happy to oblige, telling you her brother did much of the same, and she'd send the kits right up.

Thanking her, you hung up, and turned back for room. You found a pair of shorts and hopped into them for modesty, using your ice bucket to fill with water, grabbing whatever hand towels and washcloths you could. You set the bucket to the coffee table, dipping the cloths in for the two strangers, asking, "You guys wanna clean up a bit?"

"Please," the blonde wheezed.

You nodded, handing over the wet towels and moved the bucket a little closer for them to reach. You introduced yourself to them, offering a smile, turning for Tangerine and taking a seat beside him to start cleaning him up. "Lemon," your companion's counterpart introduced.

"Ladybug."

"More fucking codenames," you mumbled, shaking your head, trying to mop up Tangerine's forehead. "Jesus, fuck, sweetheart, what did you do? Bash your head through a glass wall?"

"Window, actually," he mumbled, reaching up to caress your wrist and cracking his eyes open. "Thank you, darlin'."

"Hush," you smiled, wiping the blood from his mouth. "You guys are gonna need showers and new clothes, huh?" You looked at the other two, who were scattered around the room to use whatever reflective surface they could find.

"That'd be nice," Ladybug nodded. "Anyone any cash?"

You sighed, "I've got you guys, 's all right."

As you reached for the bucket of warm water again to rinse the washcloth and wring it out, you missed the looks Lemon and Tangerine exchanged; both mildly impressed with your generosity and kindness. Certainly, someone who would never get tangled up in the lot of them on regular circumstances.

The knock at your door made the entire room still, you sparing them a skeptical look and reprimanding as you stood, "Relax, it's just the supplies."

Still, Lemon and Ladybug made sure they were out of sight as Tangerine just couldn't move once deposited on the sofa. You greeted the service worker, strategic in how wide you opened the door, and accepted the supplies; thanking the man, closing the door, and depositing the materials on your still-made bed.

However, a new thought occurred and you picked up the phone once more. When it connected to the front desk, you asked if your conjoining room was vacant - and to your shock, it was. You asked if they would add the room to yours because your friend suddenly decided to join you (not a total lie), and some 20 minutes later, you were giving Ladybug and Lemon their own room keys. You propped the conjoining door open, the two men using the first aid kits and the other room's shower as you got Tangerine to a point you didn't think he would bleed out.

"Okay, sweetheart," you caressed his jaw, "I'm gonna pop over to the shops across the street, okay? Grab you guys some necessities."

"You don't have to, we shouldn't burden you like this," he whispered.

"You guys can't walk around in these clothes," you chuckled.

"Have been."

"Yeah, on the side of the road, huh?"

"Back of a tangerine truck for a bit, too," he chuckled.

"Well, that's fitting. Look, just," you sighed, leaning in to peck his lips softly, "stay here, rest, eat, I'll be right back. Get a shower if you feel able, yeah?"

He nodded, just looking you over for a moment. "I'm sorry," he whispered, shaking his head, "I didn't know where else t'go. Whole plan went t'shit, we were out of options, love, just... Didn't know where t'turn ta."

"How'd you even find me?"

He shrugged, "I have my ways."

"Well, that's doesn't vaguely make you sound like a stalker." Another peck to his amused smile. "I'll be right back, promise," you stood, found a pair of sweats, a hoodie, and changed your shoes before heading out the door.

Was it stupid to leave three strangers alone in your hotel room? For sure. But you still went, you were a caring person by nature and the idea of making them fend for themselves felt wrong.

Especially after the state they showed up in, Tangerine's soft words about not knowing where to go; you just wanted to help since you had the ability to.

Across the street, splashing through puddles, you zipped around what was available and gathered three sets of sweatpants, shirts, jackets or hoodies, and figured their shoes were fine for now until they could change them later. You grabbed a few snacks and bottles of water, sports drinks, and energy drinks, paid, and made it back to your hotel room.

"Oh, blessings, you sweet girl!" Lemon gasped when you presented the change of clothes and snacks. "Oh, fuck yeah," he whispered to himself, taking the gift and going to change as you tossed Ladybug his own set.

When you found Tangerine, he was in the same place - but at least he didn't look worse. Just exhausted.

"Hey," you cooed, caressing his head and watching his eyes crack open.

"You're back," he smiled.

"Mhm," you hummed, "and you need a shower. C'mon, then you can get in bed, get some rest."

"Nah, love," he groaned when you took his wrists, "let's jus' go t'bed."

"Tan, you're absolutely disgusting right now, you'll feel better under the water. C'mon, there's a shower seat, you don't have to do anything, I'll help you."

He winced when you helped him on his feet, hobbling into the bathroom as Ladybug and Lemon were chowing down on whatever they could get their hands on. In the bathroom, you shut the door, set a clean towel on the counter, and turned to see him leaning on a wall, just watching you. You offered a soft smile, starting the shower to hea up, and then approaching him.

"Easy," you whispered, helping him unlatch his belt, step from his shoes, and then shed his trousers. His waistcoat followed, then his button-up, you gasping lightly, "Oh, fuck! Oh, my God. Yeah," you gently pet his side, prodding the dark wound, "you've got some broken ribs, sweetheart. Fuck's sake."

"That arsehole did that, too," he mused.

"Seriously? Damn, how'd you get your arse handed to yah by a lad named Ladybug?" You joked, dropping his boxers and pulling him from the wall. You made sure he was on the shower seat before stepping back and stripping yourself, joining him in the heat and getting to your knees.

With another washcloth, you gently suds over his body, the soap helping sweep away from grime. He let you work, scrubbing his feet, then working up his legs, rinsing, reapplying the soap, and continuing on your way. You washed his thighs and up his hips, to his waist, ignoring the way his cock stirred to life, bobbing into your elbow as it swelled. You were gentle over his bruises, the water feeling nice over your tired bodies; the soft scents of the soap soothing.

When you straightened up to wash his chest, you missed the way his eyes scanned over your soaking wet form. Feeling your hands on his collarbones, he reached down to seize your hips and heave - making you yelp. "The hell are you doing?" You gasped, needing to stabilize yourself on the wall and his non-shot shoulder.

"'S been three days too long, just wanted yah close," he whispered, sighing as his hands smoothed down your hips; gripping the flesh until indentations appeared.

You tisked, "You're hurt, you don't need t'fuckin' lift me. Use your words next time, won't you?"

He chuckled, "And what? Risk you sayin' no 'cause you don't wanna hurt me? Nah, love," he sighed. "Just wanted yah close, t'feel yah."

You hummed, "Close your eyes."

"Hmm?"

You held up the shampoo bottle, squirting a generous amount into your hand before starting to lather it into his scalp. He groaned, hissed at a few intervals, but overall let you work your fingers through his curls; pulling out any knots, shards of glass, and loosening the dried blood.

"You all right?" You checked, lifted on your knees to work; breasts all but pressed into his face.

"Mhm," he hummed, coiling his arms around you so he could literally just press his face into your cleavage. You chuckled, giving him a quick cuddle as he pecked your skin slowly, and continuing your work. When you lowered yourself back to his lap, your bare cunt drug down his shaft, making you both groan. "Baby," he seethed through his teeth, gripping the back of your neck to keep you close, "please, just - get on me, yeah? Need yah - on a biblical level, darlin'."

"You're hurt," you weakly refused, your resolve barely hanging on by a thread.

"Not so hurt that I can't enjoy this, huh?" He argued, licking over your lips to halt all rational thought. "C'mon, love, we hiked it three days here - after a fuckin' train wreck. I would've dropped if not for the thought of you, seein' yah, touchin' you again. Don't even gotta move, just sit there, love."

"If I do, will you finally just sit still and let me clean you up?"

"Whatever baby wants, she'll have, swear it," he grinned, hoisting you into his arms so he could grip his throbbing cock, lower you, and line himself up until you were impaling yourself on him. "Jesus, fuck!" He snapped, mixing with your whimper at his impossible stretch. "Ah, you feel so fuckin' good, doll, this is it - this is what I needed, huh? All I fuckin' needed - fuck - right fuckin' here."

"Hush," you whispered with an embarrassed smile, glancing back. "I need the shower head."

"I got us," he answered, holding you tight and standing with a small grunt. He easily grabbed the shower head, handing it to you, letting you rinse his hair out as he turned to pin you against the wall with his hips for balance.

"This isn't just sitting," you mocked, soap flowing down his shoulders and chest. "Close your eyes, please," you whispered, wiping the frothy suds from his face as he did. "God, your curls are magnificent, seriously, why does God give the best qualities to men - who don't even appreciate what they have?"

He laughed lightly, "Gotta get your attention somehow."

"Mhm, these lashes? Not even a drop of mascara," you mused, pecking the tip of his nose while one hand held his jaw. "And this jawline? Baby, this alone could cut glass."

"Like your nipples, right?" He teased, nipping your collarbones; both acutely aware of your pebbled nips dancing across his flesh each time you moved. He chuckled, readjusting you when you reached to set the shower head back in the holder; making sure it could cascade over the bench still. "We done?" He asked softly.

"Nope, got the conditioner," you rolled your eyes, holding his shoulders when he moved back for the seat; still firmly inside you. When he sat again, you released a high-pitched breath when the position pushed him further into you; your legs folding beside his thighs to keep the ideal grip.

"In a second," he smirked, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. "Just need this, yeah?" He spoke against your lips, licking into your mouth. "Been hiking with a fucking hard-on for days, love, just fuckin' need this," he hissed into your mouth, teeth raking over your bottom lip in a possessive bite. You moaned quietly, lost in the ministrations of kissing him like a drunk teenager, barely aware when he started moving your hips over him.

"Tan," you tried.

"C'mon, love, we both need it," he shook his head. "Tell me to stop and I will, but I think we both need this."

With a long sigh, you pet his cheek, deciding, "Fine, but we're taking it easy, you're still - " But then there was a loud knock at the bathroom door, Lemon calling your name in question. You slapped a hand over Tangerine's irritated mouth when he looked ready to yell his protest, answering, "What is it, honey, are you guys okay? What's wrong?"

"Yeah, just, uh... Can we order a couple things from room service? Bit starving, thinkin' something hot?"

"Oh, yeah, whatever you guys need!" You encouraged happily, Tangerine biting your palm and making your hand retract with a small whine and pout.

"Oi!" He called over the shower stream.

"Yeah?" Lemon was heard laughing.

"Don't run up her bill, mate!"

"It's okay," you whispered, pecking his forehead. "Get what you need, Lemon," you called, "but order Tangerine something to eat, too, please!"

"On it, love! Thank you!"

"Oh! Of course!" You beamed back at Tangerine, who offered you a mild look of annoyance.

"Now, why do that?" He asked, grinding your hips on his again. "Huh? Those two will eat you outta house and home, love."

"It's fine, you guys have been through a lot," you promised, connecting your lips in a long kiss. "Now, you wanna keep talking financials or put the rest of this hot water to use?"

"There's my girl," he grunted, standing from the bench to move fully under the water; pinning you to the wall again.

You grunted when you collided with the cold tile, but the warm tongue in your mouth was plenty distraction. You held his neck like it was your single tether to life, teeth clashing, tongues wagging, lips wet and creating obscene sounds the more intense the kisses turned.

"Fuck," you felt the air punch from your lungs when Tangerine pulled his hips back to start thrusting; brows furrowed together in concentration as he worked in and out of you at an already brutal pace. You didn't complain - he obviously needed this, and by God, it felt otherworldly.

"'Ats my girl, so fuckin' good for me," he muttered, needing this more than you have ever before; each hand holding a thigh to keep you spread open for his taking, hips hammering into yours as his balls slapped the apex of your cunt to echo around the room.

You felt incoherent when he picked up his speed, dropping his forehead to your shoulder when your head was thrown back as he worked you closer, closer, closer to your release. There was no thought in your mind, just Tangerine; drunk on his smell, taste, touch, never wanting this feeling to end.

Just outside the bathroom, Ladybug was accepting the room service order when he heard the messy, obscene noises coming from the bathroom; looking wide eyed at the closed door. Lemon laughed, "Might wanna walk away, Joburg, he don't like nobody listening in."

"Kinda hard to when they're that loud," he blanched when you released a pornographic moan as Tangerine readjusted his stance so his cock was piercing what felt like straight through you. Lemon laughed at Ladybug being startled so much he literally scurried away.

"C'mon, love," Tangerine panted.

"Go back," you moaned, pawing at his shoulders as you felt too slippery in this position.

"Huh?"

"Sit!" You insisted, him pulling back from the wall and backing up until the bench hit the back of his knees - dropping him. "There's my boy," you mocked, a hand on the wall, the other on his good shoulder, supporting you to vigorously ride him. You felt renewed energy now that he was obviously okay, only his bullet wound still weeping - something you'll patch up once out of the water.

"Oh, holy fuck," Tangerine moaned, louder than you would've thought; his head thumping back to the wall and losing all composure. "That's it, doll, keep like that - ohhh, fuck me!"

"Exactly what I'm doing, yeah?" You teased, moving your hand to his throat and keeping pressure enough not to fully choke his air supply, but enough to make him moan at the feeling.

His mouth dropped open as you rode him enthusiastically, feeling determined to reward him for coming all this way to track you down. Yeah, sure, for a moment, it was concerning, but now, you simply didn't care that three strangers had found your hotel room and now crashed with you.

Nothing mattered when this deliriously delicious cock was inside you.

"Jesus!" Tangerine moaned, hands to your hips to help you move, but it seemed the years in your youth as an equestrian was truly paying off. Call it muscle memory, but years after mastering the posting trot and the correct canter diagonal, you were riding Tangerine as if you'd drop dead if you didn't. And he felt it, he felt all of it. "Yeah, you're too good at this," he groaned, "so fuckin' good - Goddamnit - fuck me. Just like that, love, keep going - fuck, I'm right there."

You smirked, pushing his neck back so we was pinned to the wall now, his eyes locked with yours, mouth agape, your breasts bouncing with vigor. You squeaked when Tangerine braced his feet, his own hips thrusting up into you to match your movements; adding to both your mounting pleasures as the shower created a cloud of steam around you both in a welcomed lung-choking heat.

You honestly didn't mean to, but the absolute gut-wrecking pleasure you felt was enough for you to moan in Tangerine's ear, "Daddy."

It seemed the right word as Tangerine groaned in an echo, thrusting faster to the point you couldn't keep up. You could only moan, groan, squeak, cry-out as he jackhammered up into you - something that made Lemon and Ladybug exchange looks, gather their things, and rush back over to their adjoining room to leave you both a fraction of privacy.

"Yeah, tell Daddy how good it is," he seethed in your ear, opening his mouth, and biting down on your neck; hand tightly wound in your hair.

"So good."

"How good?"

"Too good, Daddy, please," you sobbed, braced on his shoulders and chest as his arms held you tight to let him thrust with abandon. "Oh, my God, oh, my God, oh, my God, yes, yes, yes," you praised, your orgasm rushing higher and higher to a new height. "Fuck," you moaned in his ear, "need this cock everyday. Went three days without, felt like I was losing my fucking mind."

"Feelin's mutual, love, so fuckin' mutual," he agreed, his cock swelling, "just needed t'get here, find yah again. Shit, fuck," he looked to where you were conjoined, praising, "gonna need yah home address - ain't no way we're goin' without one another, huh? Hey?"

"Yes, yes, yes," you squeaked, "there - there - there!"

His thumb pressed to your clit and you were done for. Grinding and humping into his hips, you crashed over the other side of your orgasm; feeling mildly limp as you slumped against his shoulder, letting Tangerine thrust a few more times.

"YES!" He shouted your name through clenched teeth, holding you with a vice grip as he bottomed out, balls contracting, squirting his full load inside you with shuddering breaths.

"Oh, my God," you sniffled, holding onto him as your legs were spent and you knew, the odds of you moving any time soon were slim to none.

"Yeah," Tangerine chuckled, leaning back to the wall as he panted; keeping hold of you. "Yah all right, love?"

"Uh-huh," you breathed, still absentminded.

"Yeah," he mused, pecking below your ear. "Just what the doctor ordered, huh?"

"Think the doctor would want your wound closed," you slowly sat off him, looking to the bloody hole and frowning as you pet around the irritated skin. He winced gently, making you frown, "Let's go, love, you need this tended to."

Only, when you dismounted, his cock flopping out of you once released, you tried to find your feet but only found the floor.

"C'mon, love, you just sit," he sighed, scooping you up and switching spots. He set you on the bench, stood, rinsed off under the water, readjusted the stream so it hit you a little better as he lathered conditioner into his curls with one arm.

"You're supposed to leave it sit for a bit," you tisked when he washed the conditioner out; shaking his curls.

"'S all right, still does the job."

"Your girlfriends never taught you haircare?"

He cleared his throat, looking a bit sheepish as he avoided your eyes. "Never really had one outside of secondary school. Job doesn't make dating the easiest, yeah?"

You furrowed your brows gently, then nodded, "Okay, well, just means you've room to learn, right?"

"Yeah, sure. You gonna teach me, love?" He mused, slicking his hair back in the water before shutting it off; wringing a few strands out.

"Why not?" You smiled. "But you gotta teach me something in return."

"Hmm? What's that you wanna learn?"

"How to shoot a gun."

He offered you a long look, seemingly skeptical. You accepted his hand and got from the bench, squeezing when the weight of your body made them tremble lightly. Stepping out, you both dried off with towels as he offered, "Why d'you think I know how to shoot a gun?"

"Tellin' me that Ladybug fellow is the only one? That's fine, I can ask him," you quipped, making him instantly respond,

"Nah, nah, nah, nah, don't do all that, I'll teach yah, love."

You smiled softly, wrapping your hair in a towel and approaching him - still naked. "Thank you," you whispered, kissing his lips in a soft, sweeping motion that made him hum in the back of his throat and reach for your bare arsecheek. "Now, c'mon, let's get you stitched up before you go startin' something you can't finish."

"You met me, love? I always finish," he gave a cheeky squeeze.

"Mhm, might be the last time, too, with this blood loss. Huh?"

He relented in a head nod and wrapped the towel around his hips, watching you shrug on a fluffy white robe and tie the sash. He took your hand, laced your fingers together, and exited the bathroom - only to come to a shocking halt.

There was blood trailed all over the room, medical supplies strewn around, and several food wrappers. "Told yah, love," Tangerine sighed.

"It's okay," you smiled, "they'll clean it."

"You're so sure?"

"I'm very persuasive," you eased. "C'mon, sit," you ushered him back to the bloodied sofa, figuring damage was already done and anymore blood wouldn't make much of a difference. You grabbed whatever material you could, snapping on rubber gloves and taking a deep breath. "Ready?" You asked Tangerine.

"One more kiss and you can have at it," he sighed, leaning in until you met him happily; offering several swipes of his tongue before resting his forehead on your own.

"It'll sting for a bit," you warned, holding the bottle of alcohol.

"C'mon, darlin', 's all right, I can handle - OH! FUCKS SAKE!" He cursed when you poured the disinfectant over his bullet wound.

In the next room, Ladybug and Lemon shared a look before snickering as if two juvenile boys at a sleepover. And honestly? Spot the difference.

requesting rules and masterlist

Bullet Train masterlist

#tangerine #tangerine x you #tangerine x reader #bullet train tangerine #tangerine bullet train #tangerine atj #atj tangerine #atj #aaron taylor johnson #bullet train #bullet train 2022 #tangerine x fem!reader #tangerine smut #tangerine imagine

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inky-duchess · 8 months

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Fantasy Guide to Creating Your Own Language

When writer's set out to world-build, language has a huge role in creating new cultures and lending a sense of realism to your efforts. A world and people just feel more real when language is involved. As the old Irish proverb says "tír gan teanga, tír gan anam”. A country without a language, is a country without a soul. So how can we create one?

Do Your Homework

First things off, you should start by studying languages. Nobody is asking you to get fluent but it's important to understand the basic mechanics of language. You will start to see certain tricks to language, how verbs are conjugated and how gender effects certain words. It will be easier to make up your own when you know these tricks. For example, in Irish one doesn't scold but "gives out to" - "a thabhairt amach". In German, numbers are arranged differently to the English with the smallest digit arranged before the tens for example 21 - Einsundzwanzig. By immersing yourself in an array of different languages (I recommend finding ones close to how you want your language to sound), you can gain the tools necessary for creating a believable language.

Keep it Simple

Nobody expects you to pull a Tolkien or channel the powers of David J. Peterson (hail bisa vala). You're not writing a dictionary of your con-lang. You will probably use only a handful of words in your story. Don't over complicate things. A reader will not be fluent in your con-lang and if they have to continually search for the meaning of words they will likely loose patience.

Start Small

When you're learning a language, you always start with the basics. You do the exact same when writing one. Start with introductions, the names of simple objects, simple verbs (to be, to do, to have for example) and most importantly your pronouns (you will use these more than any other word, which is why I always start with them). Simple everyday phrases should always be taken care of first. Build your foundation and work your way up, this is a marathon not a race.

Music to the Ears

If your creating a new language, you're more than likely doing it phonetically. Sound is important to language and especially a con-lang because you want to trick your reader into thinking of a real language when reading the words on the page. I suggest sitting down and actually speak your words aloud, get the feel of them on the tongue to work out the spelling. Spellings shouldn't be too complicated, as I said before the readers aren't fluent and you want to make it easier for them to try it out themselves.

Also when you're creating the con-lang, it's important to figure out how it sounds to an unsuspecting ear. If a character is walking down a street and hears a conversation in a strange language, they will likely describe to the reader what it sounds like. It might be guttural or soft, it might be bursque or flowery. It's always interesting to compare how different languages flow in the ear.

Writing in Your Language

Now that you've written your language and created some words, you will want to incoperate them into your story. The way most writers do this is by italicising them. As a reader, I generally prefer authors not to go too overboard with their con-lang. Swathes of con-lang words might intrigue a reader but it can leave them confused as well. It is better to feed con-lang to your readers bit by bit. In most published works writer's tend to use words here and there but there are few whole sentences. For example in A Game Of Thrones by George RR Martin, has actually only a handful of short sentences in Dothraki despite the language being prevalent throughout the book. Daenerys Targaryen pronounces that "Khalakka dothrae mr’anha!"/"A prince rides inside me!" and it's one of the only sentence we actually see in actual Dothraki.

There's also nothing stopping you from just saying a language has been spoken. If you're not comfortable writing out the words, then don't make yourself. A simple dialogue tag can do the trick just fine.

Know your Words

I do recommend keeping an actual record of your words. Make a dictionary if you want or a simple list of words you need. This is one of the most entertaining aspects of world building, have fun with it, go mad if you like. Also here's a short list of questions you can ask yourself about language in general which might help your juices flow.

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steddiealltheway · 1 year

Text

Au where HoH Steve keeps getting pestered by his roommate and best friend Robin to learn sign language in case his hearing gets worse. Plus, when he gets his migraines it might be easier to communicate.

He goes to the bookstore and finds a sign language book and signs to himself trying to pick up the basics. And, to his surprise, he takes to it pretty quickly and easily learns at least the alphabet.

-:-:-:-:-:-

Flash over to Eddie who has been coming to this bookstore because they surprisingly have D&D guides and a huge fantasy section - plus, Murray, the owner, sometimes lends him books instead of making him buy them.

But when he glances around and takes in the familiar surroundings and spots the very unfamiliar new guy in his favorite chair in the corner, he instantly freezes. Because this guy is his absolute dream guy.

Eddie thinks about how he made a New Years resolution that he wasn’t going to run away from things anymore. This time, he’ll actually go after what he wants. He walks towards the man, but stops in his tracks as he watches the man sign to himself.

Eddie takes a moment then decides that this won’t deter him. Instead of going to the fantasy section, Eddie goes over to the language section and grabs the first sign language book he finds. He goes to the register and gestures to the corner while asking Murray, “How long has he been here?”

Murray glances and shrugs. “Only a few days, but it looks like he’s going to keep coming back. Why?”

Eddie looks down and tries to figure out what to say.

“Ooooh. I see,” Murray says with a big smile and motions to the book.

Eddie feels himself flush red as he replies, “I’m thinking of asking him out in sign language. Rather than just, writing it down, you know.”

Murray stares at him for a moment but then scans the book and hands it to him. As Eddie takes it, Murray says, “You should probably know that he…” He trails off and gets a big smile on his face that sets off the warning signs in Eddie’s head. “He’s going to love that,” Murray finishes. “Have a good day!”

Eddie looks at Murray for a second before finally deciding that he’s just a strange man, and everything he says sounds strangely cryptic. So he shrugs it off and hurries home to start learning.

-:-:-:-:-:-

A few days later, and Steve finds himself sitting in the same bookstore with another sign language guide after Robin bet him that he wouldn’t keep up with learning the language. And although he may have started to give up a bit, he went right back into it to prove Robin wrong. Plus, there was twenty bucks on the line.

He’s caught up in the sign for “bitch” when he’s tapped on the shoulder. He jumps back and looks up at a guy with longer dark curly hair and big brown eyes. In his speechlessness, he nearly doesn’t notice the man rubbing his chest with his fist.

But Steve notices the circular motion, and then realizes that it’s definitely a sign for something. Oh! Sorry

Steve smiles widely at the man who smiles back at him. He points at him and signs your name? Steve can feel himself turn red as the deaf man takes pity on him and very slowly spells out E-B-B-I-E.

He points back at Steve who slowly spells out his name as well.

The other man nods with a smile and signs his name back quickly as if repeating it. Steve nods enthusiastically although he struggles with the difference between S and A, but he gets distracted and can’t help but sign beautiful as he stares up at Ebbie.

Ebbie scoffs. You are beautiful

No, you. Steve flirts easily. Maybe there will be a new motivation to learn sign language…

Ebbie pulls his hair in front of his now rosy cheeks, and takes a deep breath before quickly signing something which Steve gets none of. He really should’ve taken this sign language thing more seriously. He shakes his head at the man and hopes he doesn’t give up too quickly.

Ebbie looks a bit discouraged but slowly signs again, but Steve only captures you and want. Clearly this man is a bit too advanced for Steve.

Steve motions for a pen by just scribbling in the air since he hasn’t learned the sign for it yet, while praying that Ebbie doesn’t think he’s stupid. But the other man quickly nods and pulls a pen and small notebook out of his pocket as if he’s prepared for this moment. Which makes sense because he probably has to do this often.

Ebbie scribbles something fast and hesitates before showing it to Steve.

Do you want to go on a date?

Steve stares at the note and takes a minute to process while he tries to figure out what signs meant what. Then, he finally takes in what the question says, and makes eye contact with a very stressed looking Ebbie.

Yes, Steve replies as quickly as he can remember what the sign for it is.

Ebbie looks overjoyed for a moment, and then calmly signs F-R-I-D-A-Y. Then, he holds up his hands to show eight fingers and points down at the ground which Steve takes to mean here.

Yes, Steve replies dumbly not knowing how else to explain his gratitude.

Ebbie quickly gives him a thumbs up and waves at him goodbye. Steve waves back as Ebbie turns around and walks out of the store.

Steve can’t help but notice Murray hunched over at the register seeming to be crying from laughter. He wishes he was reading whatever book he has.

-:-:-:-:-:-

For the next three days, Eddie stops by the bookstore and has brief conversations with Ateve who takes pity on him and signs slowly for him. He even shows him a sign language book after noticing how poorly he’s signing.

Eddie’s just surprised that he agreed to the date after he signed the question so atrociously that Ateve couldn’t even vaguely understand it.

But he notices that he’s beginning to get slightly better at signing, but him and Ateve usually stick to spelling things out letter by letter until they have to ultimately go to the notebook.

But Eddie really likes Ateve. Sure, he has a weird name, but he has a really great personality that shows through even through his signing. Plus, his laughter is music to Eddie’s ears. He wonders what his voice would be like if he attempted to speak.

But that’s a horrible thing to think. Right? Eddie really doesn’t know the etiquette or what’s offensive in the deaf community. He needs to do more research. This research ends up taking him down a path of learning every curse he can in sign language… he feels oddly productive.

But then the day of the date comes, and Eddie really wishes he would’ve spent more time on learning things he could actually use. He ends up sticking to beautiful when he first sees Ateve.

Ateve smiles brightly and signs something that Eddie doesn’t recognize, but he signs thank you hoping for the best. It seems like the right response.

The walk over from the bookstore to Enzo’s is quiet except when they pass by Murray who is cackling by the register. For some reason, the past three days he’s had a laughing fit, but Eddie thinks maybe it’s just something he got from Alexei.

Eddie nearly whispers a pep talk under his breath as the approach the doors, but he doesn’t want Ateve to look over and see. Instead, he just holds up his fingers for two when they get inside and are quickly seated.

Eddie takes a moment to look at the menu before looking up at Ateve who shyly signs hi.

Eddie signs it back while biting back a huge smile before he sees a waiter approach from behind him. He’s been dreading this moment.

“Hello, gentlemen. What can-”

“He’s deaf,” Eddie says at the same time as someone else next to him. He turns and looks at Ateve who stares at Eddie in shock then he realizes…

“Holy shit,” Eddie says.

“Holy shit is right,” Ateve replies.

The waiter clears his throat, “I’ll be back in a moment.” He quickly walks away looking extremely confused but relieved to have been removed from the situation.

“I thought you were deaf.”

Ateve laughs, “Well, I’m Steve, and I’m a bit hard of hearing and sometimes get really intense migraines, so my roommate has been encouraging me to learn sign language.”

“Shit,” Eddie says and puts his head in his hands, “I thought your name was Ateve.” He laughs along with Steve and says, “I’m Eddie, and I started to learned sign language a few days ago after I saw you signing to yourself. But thank you for taking pity on me since you’re clearly advanced.”

“I stared learning days ago, and I thought you were fluent and taking pity on me. Plus, I thought your name was Ebbie.”

Eddie stares at Steve for a moment before laughing loud enough that the restaurant goes quiet as everyone turns to look at the commotion. Steve joins in after looking around.

The restaurant slowly resumes to the normal volume level as Eddie and Steve’s laughter dies down. Steve smiles and says, “If you want, we can still continue learning sign language. Together. If that’s something you’d be interested in…”

Eddie smiled back at him and replies, “Yeah, I’d really really like that.”

As the date goes on, they realize they have a natural connection and easily launch into multiple conversations, but then Eddie stops abruptly and asks, “Wait, did Murray know that you weren’t deaf?”

“Yes,” Steve answers confused but then a look of realization crosses over his face.

Bastard. Eddie signs.

Bitch. Steve signs back with a laugh.

Eddie finds that he can’t be too mad at Murray though because Steve deaf or not is absolutely perfect.

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie ficlet #meddling Murray #hoh steve harrington #idiots to lovers #🌹🌹

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marvelouslizzie · 6 months

Text

I'm Not Sure If I Can Do This

Summary: You want to try something new and Bucky isn't sure if he can do it.

Pairing: Boyfriend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+, established relationship, teasing, dirty talk, pet names, edging, no protection, no mention of y/n

Word Count: 1.9K

A/N: I wrote this little filthy story because of my friend Andreea's prompt. I'm glad it turned out to be something decent.

You can also send me requests if you want. I can't guarantee I'll write it but I'll certainly try.

Thank you @notafunkiller for proofreading and editing ❤️

All work is mine, please do not repost or translate without my permission.

You thought explaining why you wanted this or even convincing him to do it would be harder, but it was quite the opposite. Bucky Barnes is a guy who loves to give, especially when it comes to pleasure. It’s like he’s thriving on your pleasure while he’s delaying his own. He never made you wait or made you beg for release. Not once. And you really want to be desperate for some reason. And you have no intention to find out why. You just want to experience it. You want him to tease you relentlessly, deny your orgasm, and finally when he allows it, you want it to be explosive.

It’s easy to imagine him doing all those things to you, but the idea of explaining it is just dreadful. That’s why you were so reluctant. You weren’t sure if he would like the idea or maybe he would misunderstand your intention. None of that happened, though. You just said you wanted to try it and as you started to explain why, you noticed how his eyes were shining mischievously. That’s when you realized it was more than okay for him.

And that’s how you ended up all naked and frustrated on your bed. Bucky is a man of his word, so when he said he was going to enjoy this, he was not lying. He has been teasing you for a while now, and all you feel is frustration and of course, that undeniable anticipation.

“Bucky…” You whine as he’s moving so damn slowly inside you. The touches, the kisses, his damn tongue… It all feels good but not enough to make you come.

“Yes?”

The way he looks into your eyes makes you melt. You are so close to forgetting that he has been torturing you. He has been denying your orgasm every time you are getting close, yet the look in his eyes… It shows his true feelings.

“What do you want, baby?”

He sounds like he has no idea what you want. You wish you could hate him for this, but you can’t. You’ve been imagining how this would feel like for so long, and he’s just turning your fantasy into reality while enjoying the ride.

“I wanna come.”

You don’t care if you sound desperate because you are. You are desperate to come. You want that relief you took for granted for so long. All those times he never denied you, all those times he never even paused for a second before giving you all the pleasure in the world.

“Beg for it.”

His response surprises you. You can see the desire in his eyes and how much he’s actually enjoying this, but you never expected that he would be so into it. Maybe he didn’t know it either, but he definitely loves the state you are in. He even seems to enjoy edging himself because while torturing you, he’s torturing himself as well.

“Beg?”

“Yes, baby. Beg. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“I-” You can’t deny that, can you? You always imagined it this way, but you never actually begged before. It’s easier when you are just imagining things, but looking at his face and saying those words… It feels incredibly hard.

“If you are not ready to beg yet, you are not ready to come, sweetheart.”

Oh, that’s awfully cruel of him yet so freaking hot. He knows you want to do this so badly, but your pride is standing in the way, and he’s willing to take you to the point where you wouldn’t care about it anymore. Yet your mouth says something else.

“But I am so close…”

“I know.” He moves in and out of you. His pace is torturously slow, yet it still feels amazing.

Then his fingers move onto your clit, gently rubbing it, and you feel a jolt of electricity all through your body. It’s like a promise. The promise of blinding pleasure, but he stops after a couple of rubs and makes you whine.

“You know what you have to say, don’t you?” You nod in response, tears are beginning to well up. “You can get what you want, any time you want.” You know that, but it’s like your mouth is having a hard time saying those words. “And you know we can stop this any time you want, right?”

He’s trying to remind you of your safe word, but you don’t want to stop. You have no intention of using it.

“Please…” Your voice comes out so pathetically, but it makes him smile. Why is it so hard to say?

“Please what?” He combines his words with actions. He moves a little bit harder inside you, and it reminds you of what you need. All you need is to ask him, and you know he will give it to you. You close your eyes and take a deep breath, bracing yourself to beg.

“Please move harder.” When you open your eyes back up, you see Bucky smirking. It just spurs something inside you. “Please, please…”

“Oh, baby…” He sounds so condescending yet loving at the same time. You have no idea how that’s even possible. “You really need it, don’t you?”

“Yes!” Your answer comes out instantly. Fuck your pride, you need this.

“Then you will get what you want.” You feel relieved but it doesn’t last long. “But I have one condition.” He completely stops while talking. “You won’t come before I say you can, got it?”

“But…”

“I will move faster and harder, like you asked me to, but you gotta hold it.” He sounds like he’s explaining edging to someone who has no idea what it is. “Show me what a good girl you can be, and I will give you what you want.”

Fuck… He’s making it so hard and hot at the same time. You really didn’t think he would take it this seriously. You thought just a please would be enough for him but it’s not. Yet you can’t seem to find it in your heart to regret asking him to do this.

“Can you do that for me?”

“I… I don’t know. I’ve never tried it before.”

“I know you can take it, sweetheart. Just show me how good you are.”

He’s a menace. He knows praising you will help and he’s using it damn well. So you find yourself nodding, and that’s when he finally starts to move again.

His hands are grabbing your waist, while he’s fucking you the way you imagined it. It’s rough, it’s fast, but god damn, it feels amazing. You feel your orgasm is quickly approaching, especially after all that teasing, and you try not to focus on the pleasure. It’s so hard to move against your nature. Your body just wants to give into it and enjoy it to the fullest, but no, that’s not what your mind wants. So you close your eyes to fight it. Maybe that will help.

“No, no, no.” You hear Bucky saying. “You gotta look me in the eyes, baby. No cheating.”

“But that’s not…” He doesn’t let you finish.

“But it is.”

“Fine.” You know you sound like a child when you open your eyes back to see his pretty ones. They are so full of love and desire. You could come just looking into his eyes but you won’t. Not until he says so. You want to experience that crashingly intense orgasm.

“Good girl.”

As if calling you a good girl with that deep voice of his isn’t enough, he starts to gently rub your clit and you can feel yourself clenching around him. Your pussy is begging for release. So are you.

“You are doing so good for me, baby.” His voice is full of adoration. “You look so beautiful. All spread for me. Just waiting for my command to come around my cock.” He slams so hard inside you that it makes you moan even though you were trying to hold back all this time. “Let me hear you. You make such pretty noises.”

“Please, Bucky.” It’s so hard to hold back. You can feel tears running down your cheeks. You never wanted to come this badly in your life before. “Please let me come.”

Finally, those words come out of your mouth. It has been a tough journey, but finally, you can ignore your pride and just ask for what you really want.

“That’s all I needed to hear.” He suddenly pushes your legs onto your chest, practically folding you into two. That allows him to move deeper inside you. “You can come now,” he says right before he starts to move again.

And just like that, you start coming on his command. It’s unbelievable how your body was just waiting for four words to come out of his mouth. All that teasing, all the build-up and anticipation pays off. Your whole body starts to shake while he’s railing you like there’s no tomorrow. Your head is thrown back, your eyes are closed and your lips are parted with the most delicious moans coming out of them.

“That’s it, baby. Take it all.” He sounds like he’s close himself, but you are too lost in the bubble of pleasure to do or say something about it.

It’s nothing like you have ever felt before. It’s so intense that there’s no thought in your mind, other than Bucky and how good he makes you feel. It’s so long that you forget to breathe for a while. Your ears are buzzing, and your muscles are contracting. You never knew this was possible. You never knew it would be better than you imagined.

When you finally come down from your high, you open your eyes to see Bucky with the most pleased expression. He hasn’t come yet. You can feel how hard he’s inside you, but you can see how accomplished he feels.

“God, you are so fucking beautiful.” He keeps moving with the same pace, chasing his high.

“Come for me, Bucky,” you say while you reach out to touch his face. He has been working so hard to make your fantasy real. “Come inside me. Please.”

“Fuck.” You can see he’s about to come. The veins around his eyes get so visible when he’s close. “You want it, baby?” His voice comes out like a groan.

“Yes. I want it. Please, give it to me.”

That does it. You just watch how he starts to come and damn, it’s such a pretty sight. You have seen this many times before, but it never ceases to surprise you. Him losing himself in pleasure like that… Especially when you know you are the reason for it. You are the reason why he’s so turned on. You are the reason why he comes so hard. You are the one doing this to him.

When he’s done, he gently moves out and rolls next to you. You whine a little because of how empty you suddenly feel. You feel his hot and deep breaths on your neck. As soon as you think you are feeling a little cold, he wraps his arms around you and pulls you close.

“Thank you,” you say quietly, as if you’re afraid someone else will hear you.

“It’s my pleasure, sweetheart. You have no idea how much I enjoyed that.”

“Oh, I saw how much you enjoyed it, Mr. I’m Not Sure If I Can Do This.”

He scoffs at you bringing up his first reaction. Oh, how wrong he was. It was a completely unexpected experience.

“Maybe we should try choking next time.” You test the waters reluctantly, but the look he’s giving you is nothing but promising.

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giamee · 8 days

Text

𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐌𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐘!

╭─────────────────────── ( 🫀 )

there's a certain beauty and pain in being with someone carnally, and nothing more than that

› 〉 📂 .ೃ | friends with benefits, more angst than smut, like this is basically all angst no smut lol, kinda short too mb

header art (left to right) by pcrow ; artsquirre ; _sekidesu

╰─➤ 💌 ₍₁₎ being in a situationship is all fun and games until u catch feelings fr 😕. anyways. let's go thru that pain in this. lowkey i wanna make a part 2 to this with a happy ending cos im SOFT lmaooo

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 ALHAITHAM.

BEING IN... WHATEVER THIS RELATIONSHIP COULD BE CLASSIFIED AS was not good for your mental health. in the past weeks that you and alhaitham had started sleeping together, you had been plunged into one of the worst emotional rollercoasters that you had ever been on.

what didn't help was the way he treated you so differently depending on the setting. you understood not wanting people to know, but did he have to ignore you entirely in public?

he wouldn't even spare you a glance as you walk past each other in the halls, eyes stubbornly trained ahead, leaving you steamrolled in his icy trail. and if you dare to try and talk to him- he'd look at you like you've grown a second head, completely shunning you and walking away as quickly as possible.

but it's a different story behind closed doors- in private, he's the sweetest man alive.

he'll whisper such sweet nothings into your ear, wipe your tears so tenderly with his thumbs like a lover would. he'd prop himself up with an elbow just so that he can gaze into your eyes as he pushes into you, even smiling at you as he watches the way your expression changes.

and the way he kisses you is what really throws you- always with such desperation and urgency, like he needs you in order to breathe when it's quite the opposite. he kisses you like he loves you, and the sensation is dizzying, perplexing when those fantasies are ripped from you in favour of reality.

but you know that you won't ever be his. not properly.

if it was meant to be, he'd at least smile at you as he passed. the more rational parts of your brain screamed at you to call it quits before you're sucked in too deep, but some part of you still held onto the hope that one day he would see you then smile.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 THOMA.

IT TRULY HURT TO REMEMBER THAT you weren't actually dating thoma. it was easy to get fooled- he was a gentleman, making sure to treat you right even when you weren't fucking. he'd make sure that you were okay, and he never kicked you out as soon as it was over.

he'd ask about your day, take interest in you and what you're doing. and arguably, worst of all, he wasn't afraid to be seen with you. the details that blurred the lines defining your relationship seemed like an afterthought, if the way his arm wrapped around your shoulders indicated anything.

you were his, unofficially or not. it only took a glance to be able to tell.

you liked to think that he was yours, too. that you meant something to him- more than just a pastime and a stress reliever.

there were moments where it was easier to believe it- with the way his eyes remain transfixed on you as you writhe in pleasure, cries of his name leaving your lips- his little coos and reassurances buttering you up, having you right in his palm, so pliant and willing for him.

maybe he got off on knowing that he makes you feel good in every sense of the word. seeing you happy acting as some sort of foreplay, all so he can claim you as his in every way except the one that you wanted most.

the urge to tell him how you feel, those three little words that dangle on the tip of your tongue and fight to be freed, are a constant struggle. but something inside you, some sick gut instinct, stopped you from blurting it out every time.

the fear of his reaction- disgust? confusion? kept you uncertain. a part of you would die if he didn't reciprocate your feelings. it was better not to know, and keep living in the make-belief of being his without the label.

you could only hope that you would be proved wrong one day.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 WRIOTHESLEY.

DESPITE EVERYTHING, YOU COULDN'T HELP BUT crawl back to him every single time. a never-ending cycle- one that you couldn't escape even if you wanted to.

both of you knew how it goes. you unblock him, play coy for a few messages before he's telling you to come over. you fuck like it's the last time you ever will- it never is- and then you spend the night.

he'll hold you, play with your hair, even kiss you, and you pretend that it's enough. if you're lucky, he'll even lend you a shirt that smells of him to sleep in.

and this facade is fine- while it lasts. but then you remember why you blocked him in the first place- the forced indifference, his refusal to open up. the way it hurt your heart to be pushed aside.

and then you go and ask him what you mean to him. he'll smile at you without mirth, the both of you knowing how this conversation goes. he doesn't want anything serious. you want more.

and then it's tears, you ripping off his shirt and throwing it back at him, storming out of his place and blocking his number with shaking fingers.

you cry yourself to sleep in your cold and empty bed- already sorely missing the warmth of his body as he holds you close to him in his sleep, whether he's aware of that or not.

and you're fine, you tell yourself. you can live without him. and you do, for a little while. honestly, he's the last thing on your mind as you distract yourself with work or seeing your friends.

but then a lonely night gets the best of you, abd you find your finger hovering over the call button next to his name. and you press it, cursing yourself for doing it.

he picks up at the third ring, voice smug as if he knew you couldn't go much longer without him.

and he's right, unfortunately.

you're already out the door, on the way to his apartment.

𝜗𝜚 genshin impact masterlist

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exhaslo · 20 days

Note

English is not my first language, so I hope I can speak it correctly. I imagined a story where the shy!reader has hot dreams about Miguel, and for some "reason" (Lyla), Miguel finds out and decides to tease the reader until everything ends in an NSFW way. I hope I have given you the idea within the appropriate terms.

Hehehe, no worries my friend. I know just what to write.

Warning: MINORS DNI, SMUT, teasing, slow sex, masturbation, fingering, wet dreams, overstimulation

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

This obsession you were having with one of your co-workers was getting out of hand. You knew it was a long shot that you could ever have a chance with the one and only, Miguel O'hara, but you couldn't stop dreaming about him.

Miguel O'hara was the smartest man in Alchemax. He was in charge of nearly everything that had to do with genetics. Every woman wanted to be his, hell, even men wanted a piece of that hot ass.

You? You were part of ordering team. It was a blessing and a curse, mainly because you got to talk with Miguel a lot more than others. You had to get with him to see what materials he needed. You loved it, but also hated it.

Why?

Because each time you talked to Miguel helped you dream of him fucking you raw. His hands pinning your head down against your pillow as he plows you from behind. The thought of his dick filling you again and again made your pussy throb.

His husky voice whispering in your ear, asking you who you belonged too. His balls emptying out inside your womb, coating your walls white.

Drool nearly rolled down your lips as your fingers rested gently against your throbbing bud. Oh, how Miguel O'Hara made your mind wander to the dirtiest parts. It was difficult because you knew something as glorious as that could never happen.

When you got home, you had nothing better to do than record your thoughts. Unlike the past where people wrote in a diary, the year 2099 made things easier. You summoned your AI and set it to recording mode, ready to talk about your wildest fantasies.

"Ah, and when Miguel's hand grazed mind when he handed me the list...mhm...I couldn't help but think how those fingers would feel inside me. Why does he have to be so hot? I can't mutter a word to him about anything other than work!"

You whined and cried as you let your frustrations out in your virtual diary. It wasn't fair. You wanted Miguel to notice you as a woman. You wanted him to ask you out. To make you his.

But who knows whenever that will happen.

---------

Miguel was stuck in his lab, working on some late projects before calling it a night. As he worked, he recalled you. Smiling at how shy you were, Miguel leaned back in his seat. Out of all the girls who fawned over him, Miguel enjoyed you the most.

The way your cheeks turned bright red whenever he spoke was adorable. How you doze off and let your mind wander only made Miguel curious. What could you be thinking of when he was standing before you?

"Lyla, could you find a way to contact (Y/N)? I want to add something to the list." Miguel demanded.

"Hmm," Lyla appeared and started to work, "Oh, looks like she is in recording mode with her AI. Let me patch us in-"

"Ly'a, don't! That's her-"

"Hah, ah~ M-Miguel..."

Miguel froze as Lyla hacked into your recording AI. His eyes widen and cock harden as you laid on your bed, fingered working furiously against your clit. Your body arching as you whimpered moans and cries of his name.

"Ah~ R-Right there....mhm~ h-harder M-Miguel...f-fill me up~!" You cried out before reaching your orgasm.

Miguel shuddered in awe as he watched your pussy spasm and clench to air. Your breathing heavy as you laid down to rest. You took a moment to sit up, whining softly before complaining that you needed to stop thinking about Miguel since he could never be yours.

Oh how wrong you were.

Miguel had Lyla turn everything off. He logged out and hurried out of Alchemax. How could he work when there was a beauty such as yourself desperate for his dick? Miguel had been wanting to make you his since the moment you spoke to him.

Hopefully you were ready for him.

----------

You laid on your bed, sniffing your thoughts away. Your recording ended much differently than you would like. Luckily it was your own personal diary, but you still should probably delete it in case something ever happens.

Upon hearing a knock at your door, you scurried to grab a robe. Who could it be at this late hour? Poking through your door peep hole, you gasped as Miguel stood in front of your door. Hurrying to open, you nearly forget about your exposed self,

"M-Miguel?! W-What....What are you doing here?" You asked with a squeak.

"Sorry-" Miguel glanced down at you, "I, um...came here without thinking."

"Oh...Well..." You could feel your heart racing a mile a minute, "W-Why don't you come in...let me get you some water."

---------

How could you be so carefree? There you were, in nothing but a robe, after just fucking yourself to him. If Miguel didn't have his spider powers this might have been a different scene playing out. Oh, the temptation to pin you against the counter and fuck you stupid.

"Actually...I need to confess something to you."

Miguel needed to control himself. Perhaps he could tease you a bit about what he saw. Perhaps he could make this a bit more natural and playful.

"Lyla-My AI, may have accidently showed me something that is confidential for you." Miguel said as he cleared his throat. The blood had drained from your face,

"L-Like?!"

"Like," Miguel smiled as he hovered over your trembling body, "You crying out so sweetly."

"Ah!" You covered your face as it turned bright red. Miguel leaned down, chuckling lowly,

"Who would have thought those hands of yours could move so fast?"

"M-Miguel-"

"I couldn't help but feel awful for putting you in such a....position," Miguel nibbled against your ear, hearing you whine, "Such a quiet girl making those noises...how naughty."

-------

You could feel your head spinning as Miguel pressed his body against yours. The warmth of his body engulfing yours as his voice whispered against your ear. Everything about this scene was making you wet.

"How long have you been thinking about me?" Miguel chuckled as his hands circled around your waist,

"Mhm~ A long time," You admitted, feeling flustered by his teasing.

"Oh? Do you touch yourself like that every night?"

Your robe was starting to come undone as your body went on full display for Miguel. His head against your head, causing you to press your chest against his.

"Y-Yes," You stuttered.

"How naughty."

Miguel chuckled once more as he kissed your neck. Your robe had fallen on the floor and Miguel's hands were firmly on your waist. His leg pushed forward, causing your pussy to sit against it. You whimpered a whine as he kept pushing his leg against your wet cunt.

"What an honest body," Miguel hummed as his hands grouped your breasts, "And here I was about to ask if you want me to stop."

"No." You begged before tugging against his sleeve, "Please...Please fuck me."

-------

This was heaven on earth. Never had you thought this moment was ever going to happen.

However, you expected it a lot faster and rougher than this.

"A-Ah~ M-Miguel~~" You cried out.

Miguel was hovered over your naked body like a god. Your legs were thrown over his shoulder and his cock was deep inside you. Miguel's body was even more perfect than you ever dreamed of. His dick was far bigger than your wildest dreams.

"Hm? Don't like it slow?" Miguel chuckled lowly as he slowly pulled out with a grunt, "Your pussy is sucking me in so much. Thought I give it a nice treat."

"Hah~ s-so deep..." You whimpered as he pushed himself back in.

Miguel's slow movements was making your body heated. The tight knot in your stomach was far different from what you've ever done to yourself. His dick was kissing every part of your pussy you didn't even know existed.

"Awe, about to cum?" Miguel asked as you shivered from his slow thrust.

You wanted him to ravish you. You wanted him to make you see stars, not make you go crazy. Gasping as Miguel rubbed your clit, you cried as you gushed all over his cock. Your walls sucking him in more, begging for him to fill you.

Miguel could only chuckle as he kissed your body. His hands roaming everywhere as you calmed down from your high. Miguel pressed his hips closer, hitting you deeper than what he was prior. You flung your head back, moaning in pleasure.

"Is this everything you've ever dreamed of?" Miguel asked with a soft pant.

"Mhm~"

You were squirming slightly as Miguel continued his slow, yet deep thrusts inside you. Your vision was slightly blurry as your body started to shiver, but you could have sworn that Miguel was groaning. He wanted to go faster too.

"M-Miguel...y-you can...mhm~ go r-rough~" You cooed. Miguel licked your neck, biting against it softly,

"You better not regret it then."

Before you could say a word, you gasped and moaned loudly as Miguel's pace became rough. His dick slamming into your gummy walls, making loud lewd sounds filled the room. Your juices soaking the bed sheets under you as he kept hitting that sweet spot you've gone nuts over.

Your moans became loud and pornographic as Miguel gave you no time to rest. You had cummed again, coating his cock white as he continued to ram into you. You body shaking and jolting with each thrust as your sensitivity grew.

"How lewd," Miguel groaned against your ear as his hips slapped into yours, "Don't know bout you, but I wouldn't mind getting used to this."

"Ah~ Mhm~ Y-Yes!" You cried out.

Miguel chuckled as you started to arch your back. Your expression getting more expressive as you started to get fucked out. Biting his lower lip, Miguel grunted as he bottomed out inside of you. His eyes sparkled as your mouth made a cute 'o' form.

"Now, how could I stop with just one?"

You gasped, gripping onto the bedsheets as Miguel flipped you over. Your head pressed against the pillow as he went balls deep inside you. Your body shaking in rhythm to his rough thrusts as you enjoyed the feeling of his cum pouring inside you.

"Ah~ Mig~"

You were in heaven. All you could focus on was how good your pussy felt with each thrust. How good Miguel was at hitting each sweet spot you had. You shook in pleasure as you felt Miguel cum inside you again, groaning to your moans.

"(Y/N), next time you think of me....call me so I can show you how to feel good."

"Yesh~" You cooed.

-------

Miguel chuckled as you fell asleep after his last load. Honestly, he could keep going with his stamina, but you weren't ready for that yet. Carefully picking you up, Miguel made sure to wash you up and change your bedsheets before tucking you in.

He may have went a little overboard. But you didn't mind. Smiling as he covered you in the blanket, Miguel kissed your head before heading out.

"See you tomorrow, (Y/N)."

Of course, Miguel took your panties home as a souvinier.

You weren't the only one who had wet dreams.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hope you enjoyed!

#spiderman 2099 #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x reader #across the spiderverse #miguel x you #miguel o'hara

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gremlingottoosilly · 7 months

Text

The Horror and The Wild [Emperor!Konig x fem!Reader] Medieval Fantasy AU

You had a nice, simple life. Serve the princess, obey the princess, protect the princess with your life. You never thought that this nice, simple life would bring you to be kidnapped by the infamous Northern Emperor. Konig never thought that kidnapping a wife would be much easier than courting one. CHAPTER 1 CHAPTER 2| you're here! Word count: 5317 Tags/Warnings: Medieval fantasy/Alternative European history AU, Age gap, Enemies(one-sided)to lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, Forced marriage, Size difference(Konig is absolutely huge), Somewhat one-sided slow burn, Yandere Konig This fic on AO3

— You’re really quiet, little princess.

König isn’t ashamed of staring at you the whole horse ride. He isn’t ashamed of touching you, his precious treasure – cupping your breasts through that pathetic excuse of a corset, trying to feel of your legs through the billions of skirts, his touches sprawling across your skin like bruises. He is a soldier in all regards – his touches are far from gentle, far from how he should behave with his bride. You feel like a piece of meat being presented for him to devour. Like an unwilling sacrifice for a benevolent god.

— Should I scream then?

Snarkiness isn't something that the princess should have – but it's the only weapon you have, although you are not sure if you can even use it. Emperor is laughing, and it is supposed to be a good thing – you were trained to receive such reactions, like a little dog standing and doing tricks on command; you were taught to strive for smiles on the faces of others. But König doesn’t allow you to see his smile, but König laughs all the time while describing to his soldiers the things he wants to do to you. It is almost surely, that he doesn’t think you know his language – you wish you didn’t know.

— I can give you a reason to scream. — You shall not threaten a… — I’m not threatening you, kleine Katzen. With a good time, maybe. — What are you referring to? — That I would love nothing more but to rip your skirt off and show your cunt a royal treatment, princess.

Emperor has a foul mouth, wandering eyes, and grabby hands – he behaves like a drunk man in a tavern, even though you have never once been in a tavern, and the only drunk men you barely saw were the castle guards on various celebrations. He doesn’t act like a glorious king from the romance novels – and you don’t think that you ever read a novel about a king or an emperor, not about princes and glorious knights. People with this much power don’t deserve love, they already have everything they have – so why would he kidnap you?

You turn away from him, the obscenity of his mouth makes your whole face burn. You are trying to hide yourself in your hands, you want to grasp something like a little fan or a handkerchief – everything to sustain your dignity. You are wearing the princess’s name and you have to behave like her – even if you don’t think that she would care about how you are behaving yourself. The dread of being exposed lingers in your chest, the only thing that doesn’t allow you to scream and launch on him like a wild cat. Rules and modesty tie you down stronger than any corset could.

Like a rabbit caught in the hunter’s trap – you steal looks at the nature around you, excited and terrified to see it for the first time – not the perfect greenery of the castle garden, but an untamed nature. You saw the city for the first time – your capital, not burned and agonized under the empire’s boot, but eerie quiet. The city doesn’t know your face, the princess was hidden, kept in the tower as a means to escape the burden of marriage proposals and possible wars for the sake of securing her beauty. Nobody here knows you for your face, and for them, it’s just the empire’s knights, a power from a country too foreign to be worried about, and a random kidnapped girl in a dissarranged dress and tears streaming down her face.

A hand on your waist secured you in place. No matter how much you squirm and cry, try to forget all the filthy nonsense he is whispering in your ear, you are forced to listen – and you want to cry every time his face hovers over yours. His hands are touching you, too much for comfort, your are still wrapped in his cape, but it’s a very small mercy for your torn dress and fragile body.

The road is long and short at the same time. Your kingdom was bordering one of Northern Empire territories, but it’s days away – you never once thought that having the Empire right on your border would be such a nuisance, that it would allow them to simply take whatever they want from your tiny country – the rules of politics are never applying to those in power and, unfortunately, you found out the worst way possible. The road is treacherous, with people surrounding you, with soldiers going through the beheaded country like it’s nothing. You were biting your lips the entire first day of the ride, trying not to cry – you do not want to give him the pleasure of seeing your distress, but you can’t help but sob every time he exits the cabin to yell at his soldiers or laugh at something.

You are not tied up, they trust you too much – they all know you would not be able to run, seeing just a helpless princess, a little war trophy of their emperor. The war trophy without the war, just a doll for him to enjoy. You steal a few glances at him – his spread legs that make you wonder how the poor horse even can handle him riding it, his mighty body, and his muscular arms. He could wrestle a dragon, you think – he could lift up the whole carriage and bring you back to the capital like this. He is a cocky bastard, not even having his sword in his hand whenever you move too much – too confident that this weak princess would not be able to resist him. You don’t want to fall from the horse and so you freeze in your tracks, even when they hit a small pause on the journey.

You can’t, of course – your hands are trained to hold clothes, to braid hair and, sometimes, fetch the water buckets – but you are mostly proficient in holding books, turning pages and embroidering. You can make tea, you can support the conversation, you can faint dramatically whenever the right opportunity occurs, but the ride has been happening for a few hours already, and you fainted three times – for specific reasons, of course, but fainting now would surely be a bit too much.

— Is little princess too tired to hold herself straight?

König chuckles in your ear, hands pushing you against his body. You don’t want to say anything, you’d rather continue your ride until you’re completely exhausted – books were never talking about how hard it is to ride a horse, that your rear would feel numb after the first hour, and your head would be bouncing on every little bump on the road. You never thought that the roads of your kingdom were so terribly maintained – and never thought it would be such a problem.

You grit your teeth, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of confirming just how weak you are – but he stops his horse once you are not responding, a hand slides under your hips to help you get out from the damned animal. You swear to god that you will never ride this foul creature again – but the god, as always, stays silent.

— What is it?

— Princess isn’t used to long detours. We’d have to stop before dawn if we want to keep this a secret for now. — Could travel for a few more hours before it’s too bright.

His second-in-command is a weird man, no doubt. Tall, broad, wearing armor with tiger prints all over the metal – although you never saw a tiger in real life, only on various illustrations of the books you were reading for the Princess. He is painfully informal in a way that makes you wonder how he can keep his head on his shoulders – surely, if he’d talk this way to a king, he wouldn’t be such a profound member of the army. König only shakes his head, pointing at you as the reason to stop – as you begged him to get off this bloody thing. — I need my princess with all innards intact. Especially the soft ones.

Emperor laughs, cupping your ass through the skirts. He somehow managed to grope your softness without breaking the corsage, and you’d feel thankful for him, but the dress was ruined anyway – all the hard work of redoing it over and over, every time you had to manage to squish the princess inside of the harsh corset and billion skirts, every little detail you were thinking through together…it feels somehow suitable, to wear a destroyed dress. Fake princess deserves fake luxury, but even the modesty he allows you to have with his coat wrapped around you feels forced.

Stopping right now, when you feel numb and your legs are getting weak and squishy like that weird transparent foreign delicacy, is very considerate of him. So much so you don’t even want to acknowledge it, hoping he’d just continue to go forward until all the traces of your past are gone. You’re too tired to consider anything from escaping to even opening your eyes. Suddenly, being on a horse of this size doesn't sound like something out of a fairytale. Suddenly, you realize that the horses are tall.

— What’s wrong, princess?

— I’m not going down.

You are sitting, frozen on top of his horse. One of your hands is keeping his coat wrapped securely around your body while the other squeezes the reins, hoping not to fall miserably to the ground. You hear soldiers laugh – the embarrassment spreads around your cheeks when you understand that a true princess would have horse riding lessons. You two never did – it would give you too much freedom, and your castle would never accommodate to large grounds of free roaming to keep a princess and her loyal maiden entertained. You can only hope they won’t think that the absence of your riding lessons would be too suspicious – and you also hope that he would just allow you to never jump down to the ground that feels horrifyingly far from you.

— Do you wish to run with my horse?

— Yes, your Highness. — Run, then. I’ll be waiting, little princess.

There is a laugh in his voice – you squeeze the reins and try to holster them, maybe kick the foul creature to the side so it would take the hint and start running in the direction of the nearest forest. Maybe you would get lucky, and the horse would drop you in front of the house of a kind forest witch that would take you as her student – you can cook, and you can read, so, naturally, any witch would be happy to have you as a disciple. Maybe you will get even more lucky, and the horse will kick you in the head after dropping you, finishing your misery in a tragic road accident. Not a honorable death, but a quick and interesting one. The horse remains frozen in place – just like you. König gently caresses its face, giving it something to eat – an apple, perhaps, a nice and tasty fruit, or sugar cubes, the delicacy that the princess would often indulge in but never gave you, or something of a…ah, this is it – you are starting to get jealous of his horse. Mayhaps, death is the only choice for you now.

— I will run.

— Of course you will.

— Sir, should we prepare the archers?

— Don’t know it yet. Maybe the princess escape would be too swift for them.

You feel your whole face burn – they laugh, they all laugh, looking at you like a piece of meat, a funny joke between them. You don’t want to fall from the horse, and you don’t want to stand here either – but every time you look down at the ground that is so, so far away, you can only shake in your seat. You feel like crying once again – and this is what brings you to the edge. With a deep sigh and shaking hands, you jump down swiftly, your eyes closed and your legs getting tangled in the various skirts, dragging you down. ***

The emperor had an understanding of what he was getting into when he kidnapped a princess. Princesses, pretty and young ones especially, are mysterious creatures that should be carefully studied by the imperial scientist in order to determine how in hell they can even exist without killing themselves on something stupid three times per day. This one, however, was a crowned ruler of weird girls – sometimes throughout the journey, he was thinking about returning her to the king and choosing another one. Then he remembered that he beheaded the king – and so, the bloody dot was sealed in the history of relationships between Northern Empire and this tiny shithole in the middle of nowhere.

Besides, the princess was too adorable to really throw her out. She is smart – for someone like her, anyway; her snarkiness combined with the primal fear of him and his men made him feel strong, more significant than before. It’s funny, in a way – König had defeated countless great warriors and spent his life turning the tiny Empire into the most powerful nation on the blonde, and yet, he never once felt this achieved as when he held the princess in his arms. The emperor never thought of marriage as a necessity, his whole magic endeavors securing that he would never have to worry about leaving an heir or having someone else to rule – but the loneliness can hit you like a royal stallion bred for the purpose of battery ramming into castle doors, and you can find yourself yearning for something that you never thought you’d want. Speaking of royal horses…

The princess is cute, the princess is dumb, and the princess is the most weird and perfect creature in the whole wide world. Makes him wonder just what was you doing in your little castle with your little servants, running around like ants under your dainty heel. You are snarky to him when you know that he is too busy to strike you and too tired to care about his opinion – he likes that about you, little yawns and feeble attempts to appear strong in front of him. He doesn’t, however, like the way you are frozen on top of his horse. He needs his wife helpless, yes, dependant on him in everything – and he also needs her to ask for help when needed, not…well, not jumping from the height of a royal horse in that stupid dress of yours.

God, hive him strength.

König, the ruler of the Northern Empire, biggest royal regime on the globe, thought that he overcame his anxiety when he was young, so long ago, he forgot how fast his heart can beat when the situation is going out of his control. He remembers this dreadful feeling now when that stupid brain of yours has decided that jumping from a horse is a good idea. He is fast, swift enough to catch you before you fall to the ground, and he squeezes your hips enough to hear the crack of that stupid dress construction.

He has to stop himself from yelling. From putting you in your place and slapping you across that perfect face of yours – never the one to beat women, König feels like spanking the shit out of you now. His eyes are flashing with anxiety, and he grabs your shoulders, putting you in front of him – you can’t see his face, covered by his mask, and it’s a small grace for someone like you. He is scary when angry, nostrils flashing with rage when he thinks that you’d rather break your neck than ask him for help.

— Made others set the camp for tonight.

Horangi is as perfect as a knight can be – his friend, his partner in crime, one of the only ones who still can survive his temper and not be intimidated by it. He can see the worry in his eyes when König is pushing the little princess down to his hold, draping the various skirts across his hands to rip them away – and he quickly yells at the other soldiers who produced the operation, making them run in various directions to collect wood, stones and set up the tents for tonight. They have to move away from the popular roads, even though nobody in this kingdom would be strong enough to hurt them anyways – but this operation should be a secret, at least relatively, until the princess is secured as his empress, and her body is sprawled across his sheets, withering from pleasure and…

Ah, Scheisse. König cannot stay mad at her when the mere thought of her smile makes his dick twitch in his pants. He survived through horribly throbbing erection against the metal plates of his armor for the whole ride, the small mercy of not having her soft body press against him directly. It didn’t stop him from wanting more, from whispering filthy things, completely undeserving of your virtue. You are bringing him down to his knees – even an emperor is just a man when a pretty girl looks at him, and even at is age, he could feel like a young lover searching for his bride’s hand.

Oh, but König would love something more than just your hand.

He should be thankful to his knights for how quickly they made a tent for him to secure the dignity of the first moment between a man and his sweetheart. He usually does everything himself, not wanting to make a lady in waiting out of his knights, but he enjoys their help now – he surely won’t be able to prepare for sleep with his wild cat of a bride in his hands. You are unusually active for a princess, trying to get out of his hands, kicking him with your adorable legs, still wrapped in a ruined skirt. Perhaps you were so mad at him for destroying your dress – he gets it, knowing how sensitive ladies are about this. He’d buy you a new one right away, but, for your stupidity, you deserve to wear only his coat until they are inside the borders of the Empire.

— Did you hit your head before I got you, princess? What were you thinking? — You told me to run. I did, Your Royal Highness.

He pinches his nose through the mask, not believing just how arrogant you sound – he wants to push you down, to open that dumb skirt of yours and give your precious ass a few spanks before setting you down, making you sit on the ruined muscle until you’d learn your lesson. The king was definitely not punishing you enough if you still think that you can talk to your betters (and elders) like this.

— I dared you to run. Thinking you’d accept the consequences with the dignity of a royal lady.

— Why don’t you kill me then? For belittling your dignity.

You look too snarky for his liking – he can see how terrified you are, little shakes of your hands and tears in your eyes. You are provoking him, picking the dragon with a stick so he’d burn you to a crisp. König knows that the customs of your kingdom value a good death over everything and just how much you’d love to fall into the grasp of a common tragedy. He also knows that he will not bury his bride before they are even married.

It’s only natural that the emperor grasps the front of your dress, the edges of the corset you tried to tie down to save some of your dignity. The fabric rips with ridiculous ease, all the gold spent on making it runs with the speed of a thread being torn. Suddenly, your front is exposed, even the underwear is not enough to conceal your privacy. König indulges in the view of your open skin, glossy from sweat and so, so delicious in dim magical light erupting from an artificial candle. He knows that he is playing a dangerous game, that not touching you now would be his greatest accomplishment and greatest torture at the same time – your body meant to be touched, you look like a doll and like a statue, like the greatest treasure and the most desirable slut he ever laid his eyes on.

The emperor is a man in the end – a war dog, closer to death than to the start of his life, a perfect incarnation of a horrible match to a young princess like you. Too wrathful, too arrogant, with more chips on his shoulders than the hair on your head, and yet, he holds you closely, putting you out of the torture device you are calling a dress.

You breathe for the first time in forever, and your mouth is shaking from unspoken tears and spoken pleas. He holds himself back from cupping your face in his hands and crushing your lips in a kiss, not because he doesn’t think he deserves it, but because you deserve better than to be fucked on the ground of his tent without proper preparation and some relaxing oils for your body. One kiss would never be enough for him, and he hadn’t touched a woman in far too long to handle himself properly now.

You look like you need to be ravaged – the greatest temptation König ever experienced.

— I can do so much to you, little princess. More than you could ever imagine.

— i’m not…n…not little. Your Highness.

— You are, compared to me. Should be scared, not snarky.

— I’m not snarky.

Just for this, he loses control – your voice, shaking with tears but never losing that arrogant edge, that delicious drawl that cannot be described as something that belongs to a princess, makes him lose all of the composure he had. König had prepared himself for a lady who would fall in his arms and cry the whole night long, he prepared himself for a fierce fighter that would try to kill him immediately – but you are soft and vengeful at the same time, too weak to resist him, but not too helpless to not run his mouth. You speak before you think, and it’s an adorable quality for a princess and horrible – for an empress. good thing you would be his regent, a pretty thing like you should never be annoyed with politics and mingling. König pushes you across his lap, his free hand is tearing through various skirts, and what is left from that awful strick construction you tried to pass as a skirt support. He never understood why anyone would live through this torture – you’d look way nicer in his shirt and nothing more. Or, even better, nothing at all, chained to a bed in his bedroom until he’d think that you are tamed enough to be shown in public.

You yelp in surprise, precious dumb thing. Just like a princess, you are not accustomed to the consequences of your own actions – you think that you can just run your mouth or do dumb things without his wrath falling upon you…and, little princess, you’re in for quite a shock. Your emperor doesn’t have enough patience for this, even though he did want you as his wife and knew what chaos it could bring. He just never thought that he’d have so much pleasure in looking at your adorable bottoms, all modest and long. Your underpants are adorably white, not stained from multiple washings, crisp and new – he feels the fabric with his fingers and almost thinks to not rip them away, just to appreciate the fine silks that went into constructing it.

His mercy is cut short by that sweet whimper of yours. You plead with him not to touch you – like you have a saying on this. König defiled the death itself, so why would he even consider such silly things as chastity before marriage? He certainly had enough women in his bed to forbid him from ever going to heaven, and robbing you of your innocence would be a small crime against all the countless sins he already committed.

But, he doesn’t want you to hate him – and you would, certainly, not in the fiery and passionate way he might enjoy, but a quiet, broken anger. He doesn’t want to turn this fragile thing into the broken shell of the betrothed princess, even if you need to be taught a harsh lesson – and you deserve much better than having your cunt destroyed on the harsh floor of his tent.

— You’re lucky, little princess.

He laughs, taking down your underpants – a harsh hand on your bottom, rough fingers that almost burn you without a glove to conceal his touches. You whimper when he lashes on the sensitive skin, stroking sensitive skin. If you knew how hard you make him, you’d run away with his horse already.

— How am I lucky? You…you killed the king, you destroyed my country, you…

— I killed your father, yes, but I left you alive.

— To make a show for your soldiers, I assume..

— If I wanted to leave you to waste, I would allow them to bounce you on their dicks a while ago.

— How d…

— You’re lucky because you’re mine, little princess. Not going to share you with anyone. But…

— But?

Your voice has finally gone down. he can almost taste the dread in your tone. König was burning down villages, destroyed his enemies with nothing more but a rusty sword and hatred in his heart – but he truly feels like a monster when he slaps your ass for the first time and sees your tear-filled eyes staring at him. God, he never was faithful, but hurting you feels like defiling an angel.

And he loves every second of it.

— You need to learn a lesson of respect, little princess.

It’s a small grace that he doesn’t make you count his slaps – he simply pushes you down, makes sure that your face is lying on his cloak, just for something soft to rely on, and gives you enough slapping to make the rest of horseriding as painful as possible. Maybe, it would teach you a lesson that if you need help, you’d have to ask him, to beg him for this – and not try to hurt yourself by doing it on your own. You’re awfully independent and resilient for the princess.

It took him at least five strong, harsh lashes of his hand on your rear to make you cry as loud as he wanted you to. He cups your face in his palm, forcing you up his lap – and smothered your lips with a kiss. König knows he is overstepping; he wouldn’t be able to let go of you after devouring your lips like that, but he doesn’t care, at least for now. He wants to be your everything, to push every thought out of your head and fill it with himself.

He adores the thought of being your first kiss, your first everything – you’re so inexperienced, so fragile in his hold. Never once thinking of himself as an appreciator of all the thighs dainty and artsy, he wants to worship that pout, your closed eyes, and little prayers of mercy you whisper between each kiss. Your body feels too enticing in his hands, a treasure he needs to keep all to himself. It’s a miracle he didn’t push your underwear down and took you all the way – as much as he wanted to touch you.

König smiled when you cried into the kiss, trembling in his hold like a caged animal. Never once he thought he’d have this much fun without taking some plumpy woman on his dick, but you are full of surprises. Another five smacks on your ass left you with a bruised bottom and tear-strained, wet face. The look of misery in your eyes made him cackle – god, you were adorable. Continue like this, and he’d spend the rest of his life with you on his lap.

— We will sleep now. The Empire borders are still days away, and you don’t look like you could handle the road right now.

You pout, pushing yourself off his lap. Even the hard floor of the tent was better, the cold fabric made your butt sting a bit less. You still couldn’t sit straight, still miserable, with a burning feeling in the depths of your tummy – hate, perhaps, that made your hands shake and your thighs feel a bit too wet and warm for your liking. There is a knot in your lower stomach that makes you feel weird, anxious, that makes you squeeze your legs shut as you push through the pain and get your underpants on again. The soft silks of the princess’s undergarments made you feel a bit better.

— I’d love nothing more but to run away while we’re still at my home, Butcher.

He smiles under his hood, pushing his hand on your backside. You freeze as he rolls you over, making you fit perfectly against his broad chest. He is a horrible, disgusting human being, clingy and warm around you – his bear-like hold is too strong on your limbs, making you freeze completely.

— I’m sure you are, Liebling. And I would love to catch you and spank your rear again.

— I will…you won’t catch me.

— Someone will. I’ll pay handsomely to any knight or wandering hunter to bring my wife back to me.

— I’m not y…your wife.

— Yet.

You turn away from him – try to, at least. He squeezes you against his chest makes you calm down in his hold like a wild cat he picked up on the side of the road. You don’t want to admit it, but he is warm, cozy, and even the harsh fabric he threw on the ground to make you a bed feels nice compared to the castle floors where you spend so much time. You still squirm, trying to find a good position to lay next to him without feeling like a toy in the hands of a grabby kid. König feels your wounded, perfect ass grinding against him – out of most of his armor, he can’t contain his erection now. Oh, how the strong emperor wished he’d have

— Stop moving, princess. Unless you want to consummate our marriage early.

— I’m not…I’m not moving.

— You are squirming. Is the ground not to your liking?

— I must prefer sleeping in a grave with my papa. — Can’t promise you this…but isn’t sleeping with the Death himself would be enough? — You’re not death, your highness. A blight, maybe. Or a plague. — You’re making me blush, little princess. There is a smile in his voice. You feel your cheeks heat up again, but you can’t say anything. Too many nights sleeping by the princess’s bedspot, always being the first one to greet her at sunrise and the last one to tell her stories before going to sleep. Like a loyal dog on the wooden floor, with a pillow under your cheek for comfort – all of her other handmaidens, precious ladies from good families, had their own quarters and rooms.

You had a cot by her bed and her endless affection.

Compared to this, sleeping on the floor of a rich tent with an emperor by your side isn’t as bad. You have to remind yourself that you are sleeping with a murdered, pillager, kidnapper and colonialist – you shouldn’t feel warm by his side. But, he hugs you like a lover. But, he buries his masked face in your hair and inhales your scent – sweet fragrances mixed with the blood and sweat of a long journey.

You fall asleep in his arms before you can think of something smart to say.

König doesn’t fall asleep until hour later – too busy looking at your precious form, wrapped so perfectly in his arms.

#cod #konig x reader #yandere konig #konig #cod x reader #call of duty #cod x you #konig mw2 #reader insert #yandere cod #male yandere #konig x you #konig x y/n #cod x y/n

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euphoricfilter · 2 months

Note

HIIII GIRLY. I saw your drabble game anddd how about

"How could we ever just be friends" + yoongi djskskjs

just friends:

pairing: yoongi x gn! reader

genre: fluff || mild hurt with a lot of comfort || non-idol au

summary: maybe you were never just friends

word count: 1.2k

tags/ warnings: feelings, fluff, the smallest hint of hurt, they’re actually just really in love and the m/c is slightly oblivious but yoon is a big old sweetheart

notes: OMG HEY!!!!! you didn’t ask for a specific au so i did indulge slightly and made it fluffy and soft, hope you like it :D

drabble masterlist || all my other works

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆.

There had always been something utterly unique about Yoongi’s existence in your eyes. He had been the first, and only person whose life had meant anything to you.

You’d spent most of your life aimlessly wandering, taking each day as it came and only hoped it would get better the more you trudged through. Fingers letting go of the ropes of friendships you’d made and lost—people you didn’t pay any mind to now that they weren’t in your life.

You didn’t miss them. Never thought of them unless they were right in front of you, if they never made themselves known.

But Yoongi had been different.

It didn’t take his physical presence for you to wonder how he was doing. He didn’t need to message first for you to ask how his day was. Dreams filled with another reality, what the two of you would be doing the next time you met, how sweet your name sounded from his lips. Or that sweet smile he would give you every time you stumbled over your words, too caught up in his eyes your brain malfunctions and you forget how to speak.

Thoughts consumed by him, feelings wrapping around the idea of his existence, soul dancing around his in this weird push and pull, not quite just friends but not really anything more.

Special, precious, perfect, Yoongi.

In all your years alive you’d never had a crush until that first moment you met. Never once thought of another human being in any other way that wasn’t platonic. It felt as though part of your world had started to crumble to moment, you’d acknowledged how you truly felt about him, stuck in this endless dilemma. Because who were you meant to tell him about your feelings when he was your closest friend? What if he asked who it was? He knew you rarely went out, and you sure as hell would have told him if you’d gone on any dates. So, you’d been stewing in your own feelings for as long as you can remember, too scared to utter a word about what was really happening between the two of you.

Because, sure his touches lingered, warm skin pressed against one another until the heat has travelled to your cheeks and you refuse to look at him, too scared he’d see how flustered you were. And sure there was the nicknames, though that was something he’d started early on, and you had doubts he fell in love just as quickly as you did.

Sometimes it felt like he only smiled at you, and yet you could only assume it was because you were his best friend, a safety net for him as much as he was one for you.

But not once had he made it obvious he liked you any more than a friend. A fact you’d slowly decided you could live with.

Just like yourself, it wasn’t very often Yoongi went on dates, you don’t think he’s been on one in the time you’d been friends. Which makes this whole dilemma slightly easier to swallow, because at this moment in time you were probably the most important person in his life.

You got to live out your secret little fantasy, and he got a low maintenance friendship. The perfect exchange.

And truly you believed it would be like this forever, until that little dream in the forefront of your mind was shattered by someone else coming into his life, and the two of you slowly drifting apart.

That was until tonight.

It wasn’t often you drank, never indulged in the fine whiskeys Yoongi would bring over to your place, stashed away in the cupboard when he wanted a little something before bed. However, Yoongi had come over with a cocktail making kit, saying he’d done some research because he knew how much you liked sweeter drinks.

And maybe you’d had a few too many, eagerly asking him to make you different drinks from the little book he had, excited as you watched him mix everything together. Utterly amazed by how good everything he made tasted.

You can’t remember what you’d said, words tumbling out your mouth quicker than you could swallow them back down. The small, sane part of your brain slowly catching up to what was happening as you watch Yoongi’s face morph into something slightly more surprised.

“How could we ever just be friends?” he shakes his head, scooting closer to you on the couch.

“Because you don’t like m—”

He holds a finger up to your lips, quick to silence you.

“Don’t finish that”

A frown tugs at the corners of your lips, “but Yoongi—”

He takes hold of your hands, thumb running over delicate skin as he looks at your face.

“No” he shakes his head, “listen to me for a moment, yeah?”

He’s calm, voice tender and smooth.

You nod.

“You’re not forcing me into anything” he starts, “I thought I was being too pushy with you”

You swallow.

“Huh?” your eyes widen slightly, “But I could have sworn you didn’t like me more than a best friend”

The low rumble of a laugh vibrates from his chest, “Best friends don’t look at each other the way I look at you. They don’t hold your hand on days out, or wish they could kiss you when you make that sweet little face when you first wake up in the morning”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you murmur, “I really thought—”

“And why didn’t you tell me, hmm?” he smiles, “feelings are weird.”

You nod, outburst having helped you sober up slightly.

“What now?” your legs bounce a little, so far out of your comfort zone.

“Whatever you want” he reassures.

“I’m scared” it spills past your lips before you can think about it.

He tilts his head slightly in question, “About what? Commitment?”

You shake your head, frantic “I just—I don’t know what to do I’ve never dated a person before”

He gives you a gentle smile, “Just be you. Just like you are now, that’s all I want”

“But what if I want a kiss?” you inch a little closer to him.

“Then I’ll give you a kiss”

“What if I wanted a kiss when we go out to dinner with your friends?”

He laughs, “Doesn’t matter when or where, I’ll always be willing to give you a kiss if that’s what you please”

You chew on your bottom lip.

“I’ve never actually kissed anyone before” you say, shoulders losing their tension, because now this felt normal. Like how it always was with Yoongi, where you didn’t need to have secrets or be scared about what he thought. Because for all the time you’d known him, he had always been by your side, and you hope it will stay like that for the rest of time.

“Then I’ll teach you” he hums, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, “Try not to worry your pretty little head too much, I know what you’re like”

“But—” you worry.

“Nope” he laughs, “We’ll work through this together like we do everything else, I’m always here for you, you know that right?”

Your eyes flicker between his for a moment, words settling into your soul as you nod.

“And I’ll always be here for you too, just so you know” the corners of your lips curl up into a smile.

#bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts #yoongi #yoongi fic #yoongi fanfic #yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #yoongi imagine #yoongi scenarios #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi fanfic #min yoongi fic #min yoongi imagine #bts non idol au #bts drabble

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tflaw · 2 years

Text

— PUSSY P♡WER.

They only have one goal before you leave Sumeru for another land, and that is to satiate their fantasies about your cunt.

꒰ა ❤︎ ໒꒱ . . . afab!reader. tease!reader. traveler!reader not pertaining to the twins in game. i got a biiit carried away with cyno’s part (i mean, it’s cyno my number one slut). nonetheless, please enjoy!

CYNO + lots of cum, undertones of perv!cyno, unprotected.

cyno is unfamiliar with defeat in all aspects of life. in sumeru, everyone with ears and eyes knows that whatever the general mahamatra wants, the general mahamatra gets. or in this case, you: the traveler from another land. that being said, none could gauge his discontent upon having his persuasions denied every time.

“i can give you anything: money, power, influence. just name it.” his lilt unmasked his dwindling patience. after all, as general mahamatra, it is not a walk in the park to leave his base for a journey to the rainforest. coming home defeated each time calls for desperate measures indeed.

such a wily thing you are, adroit in pushing back after cultivating make-believe for cyno to relish in. it’s always hidden in your smile, followed by an innocent “general, you wish to fuck me that badly?”

to which, he’d answer, “yes. hard and preferably in my bed. but as you are now, stubborn and unbent, say yes and i wouldn’t mind anywhere.”

he awaits the laugh that is certain to follow, a sound that peels off at his sanity, all while tempting his cock to spring out of its restraints, but none echoed. instead, he finds himself inside an inn, with your naked body and wet cunt spread out in the creaky bed. at long fucking last.

sumeru is home to breathtaking panoramas. but in cyno’s opinion, no vista could ever vie with how your arousal coats the plumped lips of your cunt, waiting to be fucked hard. or how gorgeous you look in all fours, back smoothly curving to present yourself to him.

and when he finally, finally pops his cock into your pulsing walls, his breath hitches at the sensation. proving the fantasies he has painted about you all while maintaining the surprise, your cunt is indeed warm, wet, and perfect. it’s loud, too— producing a sucking noise every time cyno picks up his pace, burying himself in you until the white ring around his girth dribbles down his heavy balls.

you clamp around him and his eyes roll back to his skull. his cocktip kisses your spot and he drools at the feeling. the cycle of pulling and pushing and endless huff of jagged breathing tips him over the edge. until he’s coming loads straight into your insides. cyno overstimulates himself until his shoulders begin to jitter, pistoling his rawed-out cock to give you every drop of his thick and hot cum. in hopes that you’ll never forget what it feels like.

AL-HAITHAM + might be ooc, spare me this man is hard to write. undertones of yandere. big balled and big brained al-haitham. you walk in on him touching himself.

as someone in possession of knowledge that remains shrouded in most people’s cognizance, al-haitham has mastered the art of deceit easier than anyone with a functioning brain in sumeru. deceit that he equips as white lies, all in order to fall in your good graces. or if he is to be candid, to get under your pants.

he particularly roisters in hearing about your curiosities merely to obscure his answers and lead you astray from what you seek. a calculated effort that will establish the day you’d come for his help again, therefore nailing your attention to him and no one else. and as expected from an outlander strange to the land of dendro, you seem oblivious to al-haitham’s advances.

which he finds remarkably endearing, for if there exists an image that could shake his carnal desires awake, it is the manner of how you look at him: doe-eyed, awaiting the answers to your inquiries to slip past his lips.

you are a tight knot in his chest, pressing down on his stomach and between his legs. the product of his salacity, you take away any crumbs of reason and logic from him each night as he pumps himself with big hands. until there are drops of cum on his floor, and his cock falls limp to his stomach once he lays back panting on his bed.

that is until one particular day when his lust has overcome all rational thoughts. al-haitham ends up behind crates in an abandoned room in port ormos, sweating bullets while fucking himself greedily. it was meant to be a quick release, propelled by his growing need to fuck you. never had he foreseen that you’d be following his trail, therefore catching him abusing his cock while panting your name.

“i… allow me to explain,” he mutters in haste, grappling for the waistband of his breaches to hide his swelling cock. “it’s not… i have not any intentions—”

“do you need my help?” you offer. he blinks at you, and you blink back innocently. “we cannot leave you in that painful state, can we?”

no, you can’t. but al-haitham, even after the first time he came inside you, has not found the satisfaction he quests after. what was supposed to be a quick fuck ended up with him fucking you in a few different positions inside the dim room. nevermind the cobwebs or the dust, al-haitham has only one thing in mind, and that is to pump you full with cum it’s the only thing you’d be thinking about once you depart from sumeru.

TIGHNARI + perv!tighnari. oral sex (reader receiving). voyeurism.

being a scholar equates to having the freedom of committing deeds that would’ve been questionable in someone else’s eyes. and in his lifetime, tighnari surely has done quite a few things that are considered eccentric from a standpoint of a bystander. he is not apologetic, not one bit. after all, nothing is prohibited for the sake of knowledge.

however, this particular curiosity rallied by the arrival of a certain outlander has the young scholar pondering about what’s considered moral and not. and yet his nature’s heightened instincts galloped faster than his ability to provide himself an answer.

it’s your scent, tighnari thinks. the overwhelming whiff of something addictive. something that he’d search for in the morning, or follow in the middle of the night. your scent provides him a certain heat, which travels from his nape down his spine. and with that scent, tighnari learns how to pleasure himself again. yet, it barely filled the desire seeping in his bones whenever you’d look his way or touch his skin accidentally.

he has been consumed by the thought before he could formalize a way to free himself from it: tighnari wants to eat your cunt and fuck you right after. all this he has kept to himself for weeks until one fateful night.

he knows that your body has been shaped to the point of perfection, he knows it. but nothing prepared him to see you with no clothes while you pistol two fingers in your cunt with so much enthusiasm. and perhaps he has moved from where he stands gelid or breathed a little too loud from where he hides, for the next thing he knows, your eyes are on his.

tighnari counts the seconds, telling himself that once it reaches five, you’d be covering yourself in mortification. imagine his surprise when you widen your legs and rub your clit while tugging at your nipple.

he wants to break here and there. take his cock out and shoot a fat load to the ground. what he ended up doing was kneeling before you in silent agreement. his lips buzz against your cunt as he enthusiastically feasts between your legs. he loves it, so much that he feels his cock leaking with every suck and lick of his tongue. when you arch your back and cried out into the night, tighnari’s balls tighten. even without touching himself, thick globules squirt from his throbbing slit. he realizes, then: your scent is unique because it comes from between your legs. and that night, tighnari drowned in it.

💭 reblogs && feedback appreciated !

#genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #cyno smut #cyno x reader #al haitham smut #al haitham x reader #tighnari smut #tighnari x reader

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thagomizersshow · 9 months

Text

I love when sci-fi/fantasy writers throw in a random fact about a fictional species that actually has big repercussions for that species' biology.

Like, there is a species in Star Trek called Saurians who are adorable dinosauroid looking dudes. They've had very little revealed about them despite having been mentioned as early as the original series by way of "Saurian brandy" — a drink that is so strong it can put a Klingon on their ass in one swig.

Other than that, most of what we know about them comes from snippets involving a reoccuring character on Discovery named Linus, who is mostly a comic relief character. Now the reason I bring them up is that in one episode there's a scene where Linus is eating bamboo of all things, and I'm not sure the writers realized how telling this is about Saurian biology.

Bamboo is a damn hard food to eat, and us humans can only eat the shoots of a few species. Even then, raw consumption of shoots can lead to cyanide poisoning if you aren't careful. We still don't know how exactly a lot of animals that eat a lot of bamboo (bamboo lemurs, red pandas, bamboo rats, elephants, gorillas) are able to digest so much of it without getting cyanide poisoning. There is some sort of neutralization process in giant pandas involving the rhodanese enzyme that turns cyanide into the non-toxic thiocyanate that they just pee out, but the process is still poorly understood in other species.

Bamboo is also hard to digest for the same reason all grasses are; their plant wall cellulose is hard as hell to break down. Like, your choices are:

a) you do a poor job of digesting it and just spend all day eating (giant panda, red panda, bamboo lemur)

b) you grow really big and have a big gut (elephants, gorillas)

c) you only eat the parts of the plant that are easier to digest (bamboo rats)

On top of that, bamboo is loaded with silica phytoliths that are like microscopic bits of glass. These evolved to make their tissues even harder to chew and metabolize.

It's hard to make out in the scene, but it looks like Linus is eating raw bamboo leaves. Just picking them up with his fingers and munching on them like it's nothing. That means his teeth and/or jaws would need to be very powerful (maybe hypsodont? or maybe tooth batteries?) AND, because he's eating it raw, he'd have to be immune to the cyanide in some way.

One explanation could be in the Star Trek Adventures TTRPG, where Saurians are said to have an ability called "Enhanced Metabolism" where they recover from toxins faster than other species (my guess is this was meant to reference their brandy being so strong). BUT, that's not the same thing as the immunity real bamboo eating animals seem to have. My head canon is that Saurians have a diet similar to red pandas, where bamboo-like plants are their main diet on their homeworld, but they'll eat other stuff too when it's available, AND they've evolved some way to convert cyanide into a harmless chemical they excrete, like a giant panda.

All of these whacky biology shenanigans stem (hehe) from the casual writing decision to make a supporting alien character seem weird by eating a weird thing.

#star trek #star trek: discovery #sci-fi

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sserasin · 2 months

Text

perv!anton

cw nsfw under cut, perv!anton, bffroommate!anton, female reader, dubcon, somnophilia but not really, masturbation (male and female)

perv!anton who accidentally walks into you changing from your swimsuit and sees you in a whole other light.

perv!anton who can’t help but feel guilty when he wakes up the next day with dry come in his boxers and memories of a dream involving you.

perv!anton tries to push the thoughts away, but you’re so comfortable with him that you change in front of him, and he pops a boner every fucking time.

perv!anton finds that anything you do will turn him on. you’re bending down? boner. you bite your lip? boner. you move hair out of your face? boner. more than often, he has to go to the bathroom to jerk off.

it only gets worse when anton hears you morning from his room next door, and he can’t help but sneak a hand under his sweats and boxers, gripping his hardening cock as you moan and whine. it’s almost like you want him to hear. and he takes that as the go ahead, freeing his hard cock from his pants.

the next day, anton is doing the laundry and he spots your panties on the top of your basket. soiled panties, just laying there like you want him to see them, too. he’s quick to pocket them and go back to doing laundry. and if he brings them up to his face to smell and maybe get a taste of, that’s nobody’s business but his own (and technically yours).

now that he’s smelled and tasted you, he know he has to have more. he needs it. he goes from jerking off with your panties around his dick to watching you grind on a pillow from behind your cracked open door.

anton’s stroking his cock through his sweats, pre-cum leaking from his tip and onto his sweats, wet spots decorating the front. he watches you whimper, throwing your head back as you grind harder onto the pillow, letting out little gasps. his breath is heavy as he strokes to the same pace as you, blinking back frustrated tears from only being able to enjoy his hand.

your moans grow more frantic and loud, one of your hands covering your mouth, hips stuttering as you came with a muffled moan of, “anton!” and anton came into his pants a second later, not even realizing you said his name until he was back in his room and heard the shower start. he wonders if you’re going to use your hand again in there like he is now.

now knowing that you want him, too, or at least though of him, it was easier for anton to be less subtle with his reactions and advances. he no longer hides his boner, hoping you’d notice and make the first move. he says thinly veiled lewd comments, curiously pressing into your sex life. and it’s like a bulb goes off in his head when you mention a fantasy of yours— being fucked awake.

he can’t believe he actually goes through with his plan later that night when he knows you’re deep asleep. he sneaks in your room, already sporting a hard on from his daydreaming. it’s just his luck that you must be having a wet dream ‘cause you’re grinding your hips up into the air, quiet whines leaving your mouth. his mouth salivates as he slips a hand up your shorts, hand coming in contact with your bare, wet pussy.

his fingers slide in so easily, he just knows his cock will, too. he slides the covers back, slipping your shorts to the side and moving the head of his dick through your slit to collect your juices. he’s biting down on his bottom lip to contain his moans as he slowly guides himself into you, hand braced over your head on the bed.

once he’s fully in, he doesn’t even pretend to feel anxious and guilty— he wants you to catch him. ‘cause he knows you want him, too. and his suspicions are only confirmed when you wake up after a sharp thrust in what must be your soft, spongy spot. instead of pushing him away, you pull his body down on yours, almost making him crush you in order to get him as deep inside you as you wanted.

your fingers curl around his hair and tug, whispering against his lips, “i knew you were a perv.”

#cw dubcon #anton.txt #riize.txt #anton smut #riize hard thoughts #riize hard hours #riize smut #riize imagines #lee chanyoung #lee anton #riize x reader #anton x reader #kpop smut

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hell-isnt-deep-enough-for-me · 11 months

Text

Public View

Alex x F!Reader x Sebastian

Warnings: masturbation, smut, panty kink?, voyeurism, semi-public sex,

A/N: honestly just porn. plot if you squint but other than that its just me being horny for Alex and Sebastian

____

You can see the way he looks at you. Eyes scanning your figure as a light blush covered his pale complexion. Lightly biting his lip occasionally as his foot tapped on the ground, trying to distract himself from you to play pool with Sam. But the sight of you was too intoxicating.

It was thrilling. You’ve never had such power over someone like this before. At first, you thought Sebastion was just a shy guy who only talked to his small circle of friends. It turns out you were wrong about how he truly felt about you when you were standing outside his bedroom door two days ago.

“Mmph…fuck (Y-Y/N)...” The sounds of gasps and pleas coming from his mouth made you smile wickedly as you couldn’t help but bite your lips and rub your thighs together. The stairway to his room was dark, so you were hidden from sight if anyone were to pass by.

You could hear him choking out moans, and with a twisted grin, you turned the door handle, putting on an innocent facade.

He could hear you talking to his mom upstairs about her building you a new silo. Nothing important, really, but the sound of your voice always got him bothered. Your sickly sweet tune was a song that he never wanted to end.

God, he was so pathetic. Getting hard at his bed from a simple conversation that wasn’t even directed at him. When you did talk to him, all he could do was stare at whatever part of your body that was filling his needy fantasy of the day.

It could be something as simple as your lips that had his head reeling. The thought of them wrapped around his cock made his mind foggy. What he wouldn’t give to feel you sucking him dry to the point where he can’t speak words. You’d look up at him with a lustful stare as you teasingly used your nails to scrape the inside of his thigh. With thoughts like these, it was much easier to lay on his bed and free his aching cock from his pants. With his dick springing up as soon as it was free, he wasted no time grabbing it. Pre already covering his tip. With a shaky moan, he moved his thumb across his slit and had to bite back, letting out a loud whimper.

His eyes shut harshly as he started spewing random sentences in his horny daze. With every pump from his fist, his cock twitched as his fantasies of you filled his mind. Licking his lips at the thought of you with his cock all the way down your throat had, him bucking into the air.

He’d barely even started before he could feel his stomach tighten and his toes curl. Cumming so quickly felt even more pathetic than usual. Your name falls off his lips like a chant.

“Hey Sebby-oh my god!” His eyes went wide hearing your voice, knowing he’d been caught in such a vulnerable position. If only that turned him off; instead, the idea of you catching him jerking it off while crying your name managed to fulfill one of his depraved fantasies.

Your shocked tone while calling his name made him let out a whiny moan as his cock sprayed his cum all over his black hoodie. Having you catch him made him cum even harder than he ever had. He didn’t get the chance to explain himself before you quickly said sorry and left in a hurry, closing his door behind you, leaving him still wanting more.

~~~

It felt like a walk of shame the way Sebastian walked towards your farm. Knowing that you saw and heard him moaning out your name made his cheeks burn, and his pants tighten.

God, he was coming over to say sorry and was already getting a hard-on? He’d be disappointed in himself if he cared more.

Once he made his way through the backroads to your farm, he tried looking around and finding you. Knowing it was early, you should still be working on your farm chores. That way, it could just be you and him, and no one else had to hear what happened.

While passing by an already-built silo, he noticed you kneeling by the water in the small lake on your property. He hid behind the silo to watch you for a second, see what you were doing. You were covered in dirt and sweat. Despite your appearance, he couldn’t help but imagine the body you hid under your clothes.

“Can’t believe I dropped my fishing pole.” Your annoyed voice only stirred his cock awake as he watched you try to grab your submerged fishing pole. Your body contorted as you tried desperately to get your fishing pole without getting into the water. Leaving you ass up as you hold onto the edge of the pond for dear life

“Just a little more-” Your fingers reached into the cold water, making you release a ‘brrr’ in response. The fishing pole was right there underneath your hand, and all you had to do was move a little bit deeper-

“Shit!” The edge you held onto gave way, making you splash into the cold water of the pond. Your entire body was submerged in the pond before you returned for air with the fishing pole in hand. You felt your body shake in response to the cold water. You rush out of the cold water to avoid hyperthermia. Your wet clothes clung to your skin, squeaking with every move you made.

The way your clothes hugged your body had Sebastian's cock throbbing in his pants. He could see your bra through your wet shirt. The way the water cascaded down your face had him sweating, thinking about it being his cum flowing down your face instead.

He could see you dropping your fishing pole beside you as you tried pushing your wet hair away from your eyes and rubbing them, trying to regain your sight. He kept looking at you from behind the silo, cursing himself for how his cock was aching for you. He came here to apologize, and here he was, struggling to not pump his cock out in the open while watching you.

Just then, your closed eyes opened.

“Finally, I can see.” You looked around, hoping no one saw you go face-first into the water. You were almost convinced that no one saw until you saw a familiar patch of black hair in your peripheral vision. You let out a chuckle before turning your head in his direction.

“You have your fun staring?” With a dark blush covering his cheeks, he steps out from behind the silo. Putting his hands in his pockets as you see him trying to hide the visible tent in his pants.

~~~

You took your time finding an outfit to bring to the saloon. It was much more skimpy than your usual attire. The dress you chose managed to cover your ass by only a hair. One wrong move, and it’d be out on display. Your dress even granted the perfect view of your cleavage. Knowing that this was a drastic change in attire, you couldn’t wait to see what would Sebastian’s reaction to seeing even more of your exposed skin. You had him trapped by friends and with people everywhere, nowhere to go to play with his pretty cock.

Watching him struggle to pay attention to Sam’s pool moves made you giggle. His eyes stared at your chest longer than it was at the pool table. His eyes trying to commit every piece of skin to his memory. You caught his eyes, and while his eyes widened, you sent him a little wink as you looked toward the man that just walked into the saloon.

It was pretty shocking to see the jock here, knowing he never comes to the saloon. But your question was answered when you heard him ordering for his grandparents. What a sweetie.

“Hey Alex, can I borrow you for a second while you wait for your food?” Alex’s eyes scan your form as a lustful glint fills his eyes before smiling at you.

“Sure, what do you need?” You grab his hand, telling him to follow you. You lead him towards the backroom of the saloon, not before sending Sebastian another wink as you licked your lips at him. The simple gesture had Sebastion growing hard in his pants, and his legs turned into jelly. He had to excuse himself, lying to his friends that he needed to go to the bathroom. Which was conveniently right next to the backroom you had led Alex into not moments earlier.

Through the slightly dark room, he couldn’t find you or Alex. But he could definitely hear soft gasps and barely audible moans. His cock twitched in his pants with excitement as he desperately tried to find where you and Alex hid.

Hiding behind some barrels, he saw you and Alex completely hidden from the view of the saloon. Sebastian moved closer silently to get a better look at what was going on outside from his hiding spot. You or Alex didn’t seem to notice him…yet. His cock stirred in his pants as he watched you and Alex share saliva and kiss each other harshly. Your back was pinned against the wall while your legs were wrapped around Alex’s waist. Your hands move over his shirt in a teasing way.

He was never the biggest fan of Alex, but seeing the jock grind against your clothed pussy, making you let out such beautiful noises had him pulling his pants down so his cock could be slightly exposed to the cold air of the saloon. He bit his lip harshly to not give away his location to the people he was watching.

“Gonna fuck ya real good. Have you fucked out to the point you only know how to say my name.” Alex’s words sent shivers down Sebastian’s spine. His cock twitched at the thought of you being so blissed out that you only knew the name of the person who was stuffing you full with their cock.

“Bet you even wore this dress just to get fucked, huh? Wearing something that barely covers your ass and that gives everyone a great view of your tits had to be on purpose. I bet everyone wants to pound their cock into you. Wanting a taste of the farmer whore.” Hearing such words leave Alex’s mouth made Sebastion feel even more like a pervert than he already did. Hiding behind some barrels, watching his crush about to get absolutely ravished in front of him.

The sound of Alex’s zipper coming undone and the look on your face as you grabbed his hair and pulled him over for a kiss. He could hear the harsh kissing before you let go and started kissing and licking up his neck, hearing Alex's breathy noise in return. Once he heard you gasp, Sebastian moved even closer to the both of you. He was a little more exposed here, but he just needed to see.

You bit your lip as Alex pushed up your dress high enough that it bunched up so he could see your perfect ass. He caught Alex moving your panties to the side as he prepared to fill you up. Even from behind the barrels, he could see how wet you’d become simply from the damp spot on your panties. Sebastion bit his lip when he saw Alex lining up his cock to your cunt. Grabbing his own cock even harsher at the sight of Alex’s fingers digging into the flesh of your ass.

Before you could say anything, Alex’s hips moved back before slamming into you harsh enough to knock the wind out of you and had Sebastian bucking up into thin air. The sound of Alex’s hips meeting your pelvis with every thrust made your toes curl and had you letting out cute moans and whines. Your moans, along with Alex’s sighs, had Sebastian gripping his cock harder as he tried to fuck his fist to match the same pace you were being fucked at.

“So tight..feels so fucking nice.” Alex’s words only interested the hidden man even more in what was happening. The sound of skin slapping against skin quickened. He could see tears form in your eyes as you pulled Alex even closer to you. You wanted to taste the man turning your insides into jelly. Trying to speak straight grew harder as you felt Alex move his hand between the two of you and start to rub your clit at a pace that was just perfect. The sight had Sebastian’s eyes glossy as he tried to hold himself back from cumming. He wanted cum at the same time you did. But that was proving to be much more difficult.

While watching you marking up Alex’s neck with bites and kisses, he noticed that your eyes moved from Alex over to him. Exactly where he would be hiding. Sebastian felt his blood go cold as you moaned out from a particularly hard thrust, looking directly at him. He saw your eyes fill with lust as the room felt hotter.

You dug your fingers into Alex’s hair and pulled him closer. The feeling of the jock’s lips against your own made you smile. So soft as he bit your bottom lip, enticing a little moan out of you. The way his rough fingers rubbed your clit had you shaking as you gripped onto his jacket just for stability.

Your eyes couldn’t help but move over to the hidden man behind the barrels. You liked the sight of Sebastian’s wide-eyed red face when he noticed you caught him watching. The feeling of being watched only made you more turned on. Knowing someone as cute as Sebastian was watching you get fucked in the back of a storage room made your legs quiver. You let out a loud moan when you felt Alex’s cock hit a particular part inside you, making you see stars.

Alex’s name became a mantra as you cried his name. Letting anyone close enough to hear what was happening. The way you cried out to him was so intoxicating. Sebastian studied your blissed-out face as he desperately tried to match Alex’s thrusts. He could feel his stomach tighten with every pump of his cock. Biting his lip harder to avoid giving himself away, he tried to hold back just so he could cum at the same time you did.

Thankfully, after all the harsh thrusts Alex delivered to your cunt, your toes curled, and he could see how your face contorted to pleasure. Alex grabbed you by your hair and kissed you to swallow your moans. The sight had Sebastian finally able to cum all over the saloon floor in front of him. He clenched his teeth to avoid letting out a loud cry of your name.

“Alex! Please!..I can’t-” Your whines only stirred the hidden male’s cock back alive as he saw the jock's hips begin to stutter and how his breath became more ragged.

“What a slut, your cunt squeezing me so tight. Gonna fill you up to the point it’ll be dripping down your legs when we walk back. Let everyone know the true whore you are.” The image of you walking back to the open crowd with cum flowing down your legs had Sebastian's already overstimulated cock ready to release once again.

With a few more stutters of Alex’s hips, he stilled inside you with a shaky breath. You let out a loud moan as you squeezed your eyes shut. The simple sight had Sebastian shooting another load onto the saloon floor. He desperately tried to be able to breathe normally. His body shook as he continued to stare at your ruined form.

The sound of Alex pulling out of you had him gulping as he watched yours and Alex’s cum drip onto the floor. He could see the mess you’ve become from being used so thoroughly. Your legs quivered as you tried to catch your breath. Alex’s hands rubbed your still exposed hips while kissing your bruised lips.

“I wanna keep these, just as a little reminder. So be a good girl and take them off for me, hmm?” Without a second thought, you unhook your legs from Alex’s waist and put your feet on the ground. Your legs shake as you do what he asks. The sound of Alex’s zipper closing reminded him to do the same. With a red face, you handed him the cute panties you hid underneath that short dress.

“What a good girl. Now you better run along, or everyone will see you as the slut you are.” Nodding your head, you quickly walk around Alex before letting out a loud yelp as Alex smacks your ass harshly. He let out a chuckle at your reaction. As you walked out of view, you sent another lustful stare at the man hiding behind the barrels.

After waiting a few moments, Alex started to walk away as well, only to stop directly in front of Sebastian's hiding spot.

“You have your fun, pervert?” His blood ran cold at Alex’s words.

“Here, you obviously need them more than me.” With a cocky laugh, the jock tossed your panties directly toward him before walking off.

Even though he was caught, the fantasy of it happening again plagued his mind as he shoved the soaked cloth into his hoodie pocket.

#stardew valley #stardew valley x reader #stardew valley alex #stardew valley sebastian #stardew valley sebastian x reader #stardew valley alex x reader #stardew valley fanfic #stardew valley smut

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 6 months

Text

yes or no?, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader, slight yoongi x reader

summary: Jeon Jungkook is distraught to know he can't jack off. After all, he spent all that money to complete his tattoo sleeve. He wasn't about to ruin all that hard work just for a quick nut. But it's going to take a while to heal. Days – no, weeks! – with no masturbating. Waaah! Why did he pick his right arm?! Thankfully, noona to the rescue... right? RIGHT?!

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; slight crack b/c JK's POV; JK is whipped, welp; smut (fem reader, minor D/s dynamics, sexual fantasies, heavy petting / teasing, cock-and-ball torture, finger sucking, spit kink, handjob / m-masturbation, edging / orgasm denial, hair-pulling kink, nipple play, m-receiving oral, multiple orgasms, mentioned forearm kink); noona!reader; pleasure is JK-focused and JK's POV

'magic-8' ball noona is back! no need to read, just know there's a yoongi x reader x jk sex triangle and they're roommates :D

Jeon Jungkook was in pain, horny, and depressed.

On the plus side, his tattoo sleeve was almost completed!

Woohoo!

Sigh, no, he still felt like throwing himself into a wall and sliding down to become an unmoving puddle of goo. So tired. He always felt like this after the adrenaline of a long tattoo session. Session days were fun while he was in the studio hanging out with the tattoo artist, even for hours on end. He had brought his own snacks, plenty of water, and pain medication. The artist had even brought lunch for him – probably because Jungkook was spending a LOT of money covering up some old tattoos he ragretted regretted, but hey! Free food! Jungkook was always happy to receive free meat!

Wait. That sound weird.

Eh.

Anyway.

He sighed as he fumbled with his keys, trying to use his left hand as much as possible. Today, the artist had worked on his right forearm and filling in his elbow with black. The skin there was irritated and covered in plastic, which made it annoying to do common tasks he noticed. Great. Another day of not getting off. Yeah, Jungkook loved getting tattoos but it made him grumpy that he couldn’t just jerk off whenever he wanted.

What?!

It was a legitimate reason to be grumpy, dammit.

Why did Jungkook pick his right arm for his tattoo sleeve? Simple. He had no foresight and tattoos were permanent. Whoops. (He was not an idiot. Trust.) He finally got the key into the lock and turned it. His life wouldn’t be so hard (keke) if it wasn’t for his current living arrangements. To be clear, he really did love living in Kim Seokjin’s house full of his friends. There was just one problem. One very sexy problem.

He opened the door cautiously, wondering if he would hear moaning today.

Silence.

Whew.

The house smelled really good though. Like food. Mmmm. Food. Jungkook wandered in, loosely holding onto the strap of his large black bag and stepping out of his shoes, neatly settling them into their spot… to avoid getting scolded later. He was a good boy.

Sometimes.

The current residents of the home were: Kim Seokjin, the owner of the house, actor, and professional whaler in too many games; Kim Taehyung, a fashion model and close friend that had taken over Park Jimin’s spot after Jimin had moved out to work overseas for a while; Min Yoongi, a music producer and quite possibly sex on legs (Taehyung’s words, one had to be there for it to be funny); and the Magic-8 ball noona. The only girl. Also, she was, erm, part of a consensual sex triangle that Jungkook was a member of but he definitely didn’t start it.

Really…!

Anyway.

She had a real name but Jungkook was always going to remember that cursed hunk of plastic denying him twenty-six times. Besides, it was just easier to refer to her as noona since she was the one female and older than him. It was proper and polite. She was only by name when he was on his knees and begging to cum.

Cough.

Anyway!

He made his way into the kitchen carefully. It wasn’t unusual for the house to be fairly quiet as it was quite common for the introverts to split up and occupy themselves with their respective hobbies, especially when Taehyung went out with his friends. Jungkook vaguely remembered Taehyung saying he was going to a sauna with his squad or something like that. Seokjin was probably playing MapleStory in the master bedroom with his headphones on. Something about a new update. He wasn’t coming out unless to eat and even that would be rare. Yoongi and noona… well, they were either fucking or holed up in their respective rooms being creative.

Oh.

Yeah, did he mention the other part of this sex triangle was his sharp-witted, cat-eyed, resting-bitch-face-but-secretly-a-tsundere hyung? And the first place Jungkook witnessed Yoongi and her having sex was the kitchen he was about to walk into? His dick twitched every time he entered the kitchen because of it. He both felt guilty and became aroused by the wrongness of it. Then got more turned on when he remembered that he couldn’t masturbate tonight. Maybe he should just touch himself with his left hand to relieve some pressure. Or make it worse. On purpose.

Ugh, maybe he really was a masochist.

Jungkook rounded the corner and yelped when found himself cornered by his hyung and his noona glaring at him.

“Wah!”

“Oh, look who decided to show up,” his grumpy hyung grumbled.

“There you are,” his mischievous noona mused, waving about a ladle like it was a magic wand. “Sit down, sit down. You must be hungry after a long day.”

“Why didn’t you text? We ended up having dinner without you, hah,” Yoongi hmphed, poking Jungkook in the chest. The older male looked tired and overworked. One glance between the glowing, calm smile to Yoongi’s messy black hair sticking up in every direction. It was pretty clear what went down. RIP, hyung. His hyung was wearing an elegant black silk pajama shirt and matching pants with the waistband slightly askew. Red mark on the fair skin of his exposed collarbone.

Here? Or in her bed? Or in his bed? Or… mine so it smells just like them?

It was an irrelevant thought, as Jungkook rarely slept in his own bed despite having one. He had a bad habit unique quirk of falling asleep wherever he was, whenever he felt the need to sleep. This greatly annoyed Seokjin and made Taehyung laugh. Sometimes Jungkook would wake up with the latter guy sleeping on top of him like a handsome sloth. Just Taehyung things. But most times, Jungkook was in his noona’s bed.

Hey! It was a comfy bed.

Ahem.

Jungkook received another sharp poke and he jumped, stumbling as he was pushed to the kitchen island, extra startled as Yoongi wordlessly pulled out the seat for him. He got a what? look in response, complete with black strands falling over those narrowed dark brown eyes.

“Don’t you have to be careful about your arm, especially the first night?” Yoongi puffed. “Don’t get used to it.”

“O-Oh… yeah… t-thanks, hyung.”

Yoongi pretended not to hear and scooted himself towards the stove. She was standing next to a pot on low heat looking remarkably put together in red plaid pajamas. Jungkook plopped his butt onto the tall chair and put his bag on the other, yanking off his beanie. Ruffled his hair quickly to avoid his short black hair looking flat and dumb. He pretended like he wasn’t checking out the way her juicy butt completely filled out the pants and the way they clung to her lush hips. He pretended he didn’t notice that the top was relatively cropped and he could clearly see her amazing waist to ass ratio. He definitely didn’t say anything about how nice it was to see the beautiful curve of her neck due to the cute sheep-shaped claw clip collecting her hair back. And he surely didn’t go completely breathless when she turned around with a steaming bowl, suddenly realizing her pajama shirt was held together by only a single button in the center and she clearly wasn’t wearing a bra. There was a row of buttons; she just hadn’t done them up.

Fuck.

It was violently unfair that she was allowed to look this hot in normal clothes.

She leaned over the counter and placed the bowl in front of him. He could see down her shirt. Damn. Even through the flannel fabric, Jungkook could still see the peaks of her nipples if he really stared. Really, really stared. For maybe ten seconds.

He jumped at the clink of a metal spoon against ceramic.

“You should eat,” she said with an enigmatic smile. Gracefully balanced her chin on the back of her knuckles, her fingers fanned downwards, her elbows resting on the counter to look into his eyes.

Shit, he was smooth melting like butter under that hot gaze.

“Pick your jaw off the floor,” said a gruff voice in Daegu satoori.

Jungkook jolted as crabby Yoongi appeared seemingly out of nowhere – well, he was here the whole time, oop – and cocked an eyebrow at him. Now the older two were both standing side by side, observing him expectantly. It was only then that Jungkook looked down and realized what was in front of him.

“Wait… it’s not my birthday.”

She chuckled. Her eyes sparkled with mirth. Ugh, he loved seeing them directed at him. “Seaweed soup will be good after a long tattoo day. You need nutrients. You need energy. Plus, Yoongi added beef in there for you. There’s some rice too, but not too much because Yoongi said you don’t like having too many carbs before sleeping. More meat, as you like it,” she concluded, using the spoon to show him all the ingredients. “We made it for you. Eat.”

She smiled exactly how the Cheshire cat would grin. He glanced at Yoongi who was staring at his fingernails like they were the most interesting thing in the world. They stood close to each other. No mistaking their closeness. The worst (best?) part was that even though Jungkook knew exactly what had happened while he was gone all those hours, he didn’t find this scene offensive.

In fact, he felt a bit teary from their consideration.

“T-Thanks…”

He took the spoon from her, his inhale hitching as his fingertips brushed against hers. Oh, her hands. Those lovely hands. His gaze shifted up, his heart beating fast. The side of her lips tugged upwards.

A smile turned smirk.

His cock twitched as Jungkook remembered her smirking face grinning up at him with his cum drenched all over her tongue. The last time he had jacked off into her mouth.

Argh!

He had used his left hand, mostly because he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to do the repeated motion of bending his right arm and bringing the utensil to his mouth right now. Hmmmm. He scrunched up his face and wrinkled his nose. It probably wouldn’t be the best idea. He didn’t want to mess up the line work and all that nice color shading. He was already doing the cover ups, after all. Plus, it did hurt a little moving too much. He would just see how far he could get. It was pretty easy since it was soup and the pieces of beef were cut pretty small.

They must have thought of that.

Jungkook tried not to cry grateful tears into his seaweed soup as he heard his hyung and noona busy themselves with cleaning the kitchen, ‘cause that would be utterly embarrassing and not very manly, sniff.

Thankfully, he was saved by his rising boner.

The thing was, Jungkook was pretty sure he wasn’t turned on by pain. Ahem. Okay, maybe a little (lotta) bit. But, time and place! This was precisely why he picked a very cool and very talented male tattoo artist. He could ask questions and be noisy and immature and not feel bad. Jungkook liked female artists but he would get too mentally distracted because he didn’t really know what to talk about, so his mind would end up wandering to another set of hands and then, bam! A not useful boner. Also, he didn’t want to creep anybody out or make them uncomfortable. That would be mean.

But, uh.

Jungkook was beginning to realize he enjoyed and hated these long sessions. He enjoyed them because he very much considered his tattoo artist his friend. He enjoyed them because his close friends were supportive, bought him snacks, and told him he was cool or brave for getting so many tattoos (very important, yup). And, yeah, he liked the repeated stabbing (it was addictive, okay?!). But he also enjoyed them because of how attentive his noona was before and during the aftercare process. She helped him prepare his bag prior to the appointment, would make sure to remind him to keep the area hydrated, make him his favorite meals (meat!), and be the first to help him in case he needed it. As for the hate part…

Ugh, it made him so fucking horny knowing he couldn’t get off without her help.

Yeah, sure, he could use his left hand. But the nut would be pisslow awful and not at all satisfying. Of course, Jungkook could wait and use his right when he felt like it was fine but that wouldn’t be for a while. He didn’t spend all that money to have to explain that he wanted a touch-up because he needed to cum being around a literal sex goddess his noona (not to mention what a mortifying thing to say to his poor tattoo artist that didn’t need to know all that). And there was no way in hell Jungkook was going to avoid his noona during his recovery. She had just made him seaweed soup! Oh, yeah, and Yoongi was there too. Anyway, the forced waiting turned him on even more than usual because there was a real reason behind it. After his first long session, he even clumsily edged himself with his left hand, multiple times, before he asked her to get him off, just so it felt even better when her lips closed around his leaking, desperate cock.

Jungkook choked on some beef.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m – ack! – fine. Totally fine!” he managed to hack out in a very not-fine tone.

“You look like you’re choking,” Yoongi commented matter-of-factly, eerily similar to a narrator of a nature documentary.

“Be careful,” she laughed, coming around the counter to rub his back. Aaaah! Jungkook lifted his right arm slightly and tried to subtly punch his dick down into submission but, as it turned out, his erection was as stubborn as he was. Awesome. Not to mention space was very limited under the counter. Shit. She patted in between his shoulder blades. “Want some water?”

“No, hah, I’m f-fine,” he wheezed, freezing up a little at her touch. He thought he was used to it by now but he really wasn’t, especially when his dick was already halfway up the stairs to heaven. Down to hell to the circle of lust? Whatever. She wasn’t too close, as she was on his right side, but he had enough memories to know how skin-to skin felt, enough times of her breasts pressed to his back and her hands exploring his chest, enough moments of her agile fingers splayed out over his pecs like blooming flowers, running her nails over his skin, flicking his nipples, all the while tracing her tongue along the base of his neck with her hard nipples rubbing against his shivering back…

Okay.

Jungkook was not fine.

“It’s kinda warm…” he mumbled as she moved away.

“That’s because you’re still wearing your jacket and having hot soup,” Yoongi pointed out, putting away some bowls. “Take it off.”

“Want help?”

It was a very innocent suggestion. Thus, Jungkook spent the next minute trying not to reveal that he had popped a boner while eating seaweed soup, sitting up and sticking out his arms like a Ken doll, letting those dreamy, long fingers peel away his oversized white and black racer jacket. Left arm first, then the right, taking care to slide it off, the sleeve cocoon stripping back to reveal the beautiful butterfly that was his fresh, brightly inked right arm.

“Oh? That’s right, you were covering up some big tattoos today, huh?” Yoongi perked up, his raspy voice with a twinge of curiosity, padding over to investigate. Underneath the jacket, Jungkook had worn a closely fitted, white, ribbed tank top. Comfy but wouldn’t get in the way. “Ho, so much color. Quite rockstar of you. You’re become such a cool guy, heh.”

“I wanted the individual images to stand out more and the artist suggested adding some color,” Jungkook clarified, slurping away at his dinner again. “I just trusted him.”

“He did such a good job,” she was saying, delicately holding his hand. Jungkook tried not to melt into a puddle. “The gradient is fantastic. The text here looks cleaner too.”

“Oh, yeah, I asked him to clean up some of my older tattoos too. For consistency.”

He continued munching happily until…

“So, what’s with the boner?”

Jungkook nearly choked again.

“Ay, Yoongi-ssi, leave him alone,” she chided, smacking Yoongi in the butt. Received a scalding squinty side-eye in response but she didn’t seem to give a shit. Nerves of steel. “You know he can’t cum unless I let him.”

Wow, okay, way to broadcast the facts!

“Hey!”

She tilted her head and rubbed the tip of his nose. Open-mouthed smirk included. Gulp. “Am I wrong?”

Against his better judgement, Jungkook pouted. “Noona…”

She patted his thigh. Condescendingly. He intensified his pout but it was futile. “Finish eating, okay? I’ll help you out in the shower…” She winked, devilish. “As usual.”

Yoongi snickered. “Just don’t be too loud.”

“Put on some headphones then,” she countered.

“Oi, I’m not blowing out my eardrums.”

“Then listen,” she hummed, caressing Jungkook’s jeans. “Or watch. No one’s stopping you.”

The bottom of Yoongi’s lips upturned, giving him the expression of a disgruntled cat. “I have to sleep.”

“Oh, like you don’t sleep enough, grandpa.”

“That wasn’t what you were calling me when I had you folded in half under me.”

Jungkook was left to slurp his soup to the sound of their bickering as her hand gently stroked the inside of his thigh. It could be worse. Could be better too, like her unzipping him and establishing dominance by jacking him off at the kitchen island. But Yoongi was not so easily fazed, so she didn’t, and Jungkook cried at (and secretly enjoyed) the feeling of pre-cum soaking through his underwear.

Turns out, he didn’t have to wait that long to enjoy suffering.

Er.

Attention?

Towards the end of his meal was getting a bit annoying to scoop up what was left, so Jungkook put down the spoon to pick up the bowl and drink of the rest of the soup. For a brief second, he was let go and he noticed Yoongi was flicking his hand over his noona’s chest. She grabbed his hand, pulling that scowling face to her into a sudden and tense kiss. Hey, he wasn’t above some adult entertainment while eating. Well, maybe not during the majority of the meal, but Jungkook kept a (big) peeper out. From his periphery, he saw Yoongi slip his hands under her shirt and heard her murmur in satisfaction, trailing kisses over Yoongi’s face. He saw his hyung smile in response, warm and genuine and butterfly-inducing.

Jungkook lowered the bowl slowly as Yoongi opened his eyes.

And winked.

Devilish.

“I’m leaving,” Yoongi suddenly announced, untangling himself and slinking away.

His noona snickered and shook her head. “Okay, nerd.”

Then she turned around and, before Jungkook could say anything about Yoongi running away like a criminal undercover, she revealed that her shirt was now open and fully exposing her perky tits and large, hard nipples.

“Oh!”

Jungkook felt his eyeballs nearly pop out of his skull at the unexpected surprise.

She acted as if they could ever have a normal conversation with her boobs right in front of his face. “So, are you still tired? Just wanna get washed up and go to sleep?”

He tried to answer but from the first word it was impossible. Her pajama shirt was sliding down her perfect shoulders, revealing smooth skin and the flannel fabric cradled her breasts, framing them perfectly. She smelled fresh and fruity, just like her signature lotion scent. Blackberry and vanilla. Her forearms lay against his thighs, forcing his body to turn, and he gasped as her fingers fanned out over his muscular thighs and squeezed them, basically half-crawling into his lap to look up at him, asking her questions in a very leisurely and unbothered tone.

“Tired…?” he echoed, his brain in a completely different dimension. “Wuh?”

Her hands glided up his sides and delicately closed in around his waist. He gasped, stiffening as her touch encased him, feeling the action through the fabric of his tank top. She hummed softly, caressing his waist. Slow. Tender. Not a second of rushing even though blood was rushing straight down into his dick at record speed. He felt her gaze on him and shifted his own to her face, seeing her observe him with lovely eyes that contained all the innocence of a kumiho.

So, none at all.

Her smile reappeared, mysterious and sinful.

Her palm grazed over his tense abdomen and he whimpered under his breath. Or so he thought.

“Feeling good?” she asked serenely.

“Y… Yeah…”

Down. Tracing the button of his jeans. His breath caught in his throat. Fingertip by fingertip, in slow motion, tapping lightly on his bulge. Barely any pressure. Solidly tucked between his legs, her ass sticking out. He would be fine with the other side of the view too. This house needed more mirrors, Jungkook concluded.

“Do you remember why you came to me?”

He stopped staring at her ass as the question registered. He was holding his right arm out and his left elbow was resting on the counter. “In the beginning?”

“Mhm.”

She was now cupping his covered erection and pulsing her grip around it, making his cock throb and leak everywhere. Great. His boxer briefs were a cum-filled mess now, surely. He could feel the squish and the stimulation against the tip. Agonizing pleasure.

His cheeks warmed. “Ah… Yeah… because… my previous girlfriends said I f-fucked like a robot…”

“You think maybe you just weren’t that into them?” she questioned, running her fingertips of her other hand along his back and waist, sending tingles up his spine.

“I…” It was impossible to concentrate. “Ah… Well… A-Aren’t you supposed to fall f-for their personality first…?”

“Is that why you’re into me? My personality?”

Jungkook looked down.

Right at her personali-titties.

He swallowed so hard that he almost choked.

Again.

“Hm?” she mused.

Ripped his gaze from the visual of her prominent nipples hanging down next to his open thighs and into that sly stare that knew everything. Gulp. She continued toying with his crotch, stroking along the length, dipping down to pat the outline of his balls, smirking wider as his cock jerked in his pants. The roar of his heartbeat thundered in his ears. Fuck. It was the power in that gaze. The confidence in her stance. The ability to be below him and be completely, utterly in control. The taste of forbidden fruit, just within reach. The sensation of his whole body being overcome with want and the way she gladly overwhelmed all his senses by her presence alone. She didn’t have to touch him at all. She didn’t have to expose herself. She didn’t have to smell so good. She didn’t have to.

She simply chose to do all those things to drive him even more crazy.

“Yes or no?” she purred.

He could lie, but he was a terrible liar.

“Y… Yes…”

She seemed very satisfied with his response. Slid up between his legs, her hand on his back dropping and gliding up against his chest instead. He shivered, his lips parting as she rose, closer, the warmth of her exhale washing over him, a soft sigh and then their faces close, centimeters from each other with his racing heart under her palm. Her fingers spread out. Her index found his silver chain necklace resting on his collarbones, playing with it with a small smile.

Her other hand was still on top of his hard dick.

Jungkook used to think that there was no way sex could be sexy. The idea of it was sexy. In practice, sex used to be awkward and uncomfortable, but essential to get his rocks off. It felt like something he had to do. But it wasn’t like that, at least with her. Well, he still sometimes felt awkward and uncomfortable, but Jungkook suspected she was doing it on purpose. He didn’t mind though, because she always touched him with such fondness and – maybe this was the delulu talking – but he really didn’t need the sex so much as he needed her to keep looking at him the way she did.

His dick throbbed suddenly in protest.

“Ah–!”

She tilted her head and kissed him.

Placing a chaste kiss right below his lips, the soft press taking his breath away, and then her lips ghosted over his, grabbing a fistful of his tank top and kissing him deeply. Fuck, how he loved her lips. How could he describe them? So fluffy and yet so insistent. Determined, seductive, pulling him to her and sighing, her contented breath filling his lungs and giving him life. His left hand found the collar of her shirt and gripped it tightly, not even realizing he had closed his eyes instinctively, wanting nothing more than to melt into her. Her hair brushed against his cheek and neck. Her scent warmed him, sweet and decadent. Her knuckles pressed into his sternum, unyielding. Her fingers tangled into the silver chain around his neck, possessive.

His brain melted into a puddle of bliss.

He moaned her name into her lips as she parted. She squeezed his inner thigh through his loose jeans. Still, the fabric was too thick for it to be satisfying enough.

“W-Wait…”

“You kinda taste like beef,” she remarked, releasing her hold and patting his chest. “Come on. If we fuck in the kitchen, I’ll have more to clean than your dishes.”

Jungkook felt his cheeks burn. “O… Oh.”

She backed up a step and took way too long to button a single button to cover her breasts again. He spent a good ten seconds gawking at their perky shape and the way her obvious nipples stuck straight out. She acted as if nothing was wrong, lingering between his spread-open thighs.

“You have to shower quickly, right? Go get started and I’ll come wash your back.”

“But, n-noona–!”

Her hand flew up and landed at the base of his neck. Thumb to one side, four fingers on the other. Jungkook froze.

She cocked an eyebrow.

Then she smirked.

His pulse hammered in his throat, so close to being constricted.

“Are you saying you’re flexible enough to wash your own back now?”

Jungkook shook his head so fast his vision blurred. “Nope. I’m weak. Help. I can’t take off my clothes either. Owie. It hurts so much.”

“Mmmm, very convincing.” She didn’t sound convinced. At all.

Damnnit.

“Gah!”

She gave him an exasperated look. “As if I haven’t seen you naked before.”

Minutes later, Jungkook found himself sitting in the bathtub, puffing his cheeks as he washed his hair with his left hand and felt the bath sponge rub against his back. Ah. She was leaning over the side of the tub, holding onto his left shoulder and rubbing circles into his back. Aaaah. He had left the plastic on his right arm for now, intending to remove the tape as his last step so he could rinse it off with a gentle, unscented cleanser. The water was lukewarm. Not the greatest, but he didn’t want to steam up the bathroom. It would be bad for the tattoos.

“U-Um… noona?”

“Hm?”

She rubbed down to his lower back. He sat up straighter. There was a wet towel blanketed over his crotch. Not really for any reason other than cold. Yeah. Anyway. She leaned over and kept going, massaging him at the same time. He gasped as she pressed the base of her palm into his muscle and kneaded.

“I… uh… about what I said earlier…”

“Mhm.”

He jumped a little but she was just leaning over to grab the detachable showerhead, adjusting the water to the correct temperature. “I hope… I hope I didn’t offend you or anything. I do like your personality a lot. You’re assertive and funny and you always remember stuff I like,” Jungkook rambled, lowering his left hand. His right was slightly hanging off the edge of the tub to keep it out of the way. Of course, he scrubbed his armpits before she came in. It would have been rude not to clean all the important bits first.

She rinsed off his back. “I’m not worried,” she chuckled.

“Oh, okay.”

“I don’t mind that you’re shallow. It’s flattering, coming from a hot guy like you.”

“That’s good – wait, what?!”

She sprayed the top of his head and sent him into sputters.

“Ah!”

She grabbed his shoulder, quickly and vigorously rinsing off his hair before pulling the showerhead away and turning off the water. Not before spraying him in the chest though. Jungkook found himself with his drenched hair flat against his forehead, making him unable to see. He felt like a wet dog. He almost wiggled away – until her arm slid down and rested against his chest, her other hand slipping under his wet hair and pushing it back, laughing playfully as she spoke.

“Oh, Jungkook. You’re so silly. Don’t worry about nothing,” she sighed, petting his head.

He couldn’t say anything.

Mostly because her tits were now pressed against the top of his back.

Oh, fuck. Her large, soft nipples rubbed against his shoulders. And her breasts, ooh, so plushy. “Everyone knows you like my personality.” So bouncy. Mmmm. “Just like how everyone knows you’ve been thirsting after me since day one.” No, it was more like first thirty seconds of seeing her. “Just like how everyone knows you’re a pain slut.”

Her breasts pressed against his shoulders.

Wait.

What did she say?

She plucked the towel away from his crotch and locked her fingers around his package.

“AAH!”

She slapped a hand over his mouth and pinned him to her body, crouching over him. It was then – how could it be only THEN – that Jungkook’s brain fully registered that she was topless. Possibly bottom-less too! Not only was she naked but also she was roughly massaging his balls with his rapidly hardening length trapped between her thumb and index finger, essentially making a cock ring with her two fingers and a ball cage with the rest. He gasped, rolling his head back onto her shoulder, moaning behind her hand as her touch switched between caress and choking his balls. There was no water in the tub as the drain wasn’t pushed down.

Her hand changed from covering his mouth to slipping two fingers into his lips.

“See? You like this,” she whispered, sultry and low.

He tried to gurgle out, n-no way, but he was too busy lifting his hips and thrusting upwards, trying to get the friction he so urgently desired but couldn’t achieve. She dragged her nails across his balls and his eyelids fluttered, sucking on her fingers, spit trickling past his lips and down his chin, his moan echoing in the bathroom when she finally closed her grip around his aching cock, pumping slow, running a fingertip over the head, slicking out the pre-cum leaking out.

“P-Please…” he whined.

“You gotta get out now,” she reminded him.

“No, please…”

She slowly thrust her fingers into his mouth, rubbing his tongue. “You should wait longer, shouldn’t you?” He tried to shake his head but he couldn’t, his hips bucking as her speed increased. “Don’t want you to get sweaty and all that.” Fuck, please, he wanted to scream and nearly did when she let go and lightly smacked around his stiff erection, slapping his cock against his tense inner thighs. It bounced around, the head dark red, aching for release. He was so hard that his cock popped right back into position, sticking straight upwards between his spread legs. “Do you really think you’ve been a good boy?” His own saliva was dripping down his chin. How did she get this level of desperation out of him so easily? She held his shaft up with only the back of her thumb and firmly smacked his balls, rapid and light, making him cry out and squirm. “Hold it up.”

“N-Noona, please…”

“Hold it up if you want me to suck your dick,” she ordered calmly.

The thrill raced up his spine. His hair was dripping, droplets down his cheeks and neck. This was it. This electric, intense feeling that seemed to control him, his hand ghosting down to wrap around his twitching length, gasping sharply when her fingers left his mouth. She cupped his chin instead, tilting his head up and now they were looking at each other, only for a moment, her sparkling eyes rich with passion, intoxicating pleasure snaking up his core as he melted under her hot gaze.

This was the feeling Jungkook always wanted.

She lowered herself down. He stared at the ceiling as she teased his balls, moaning and lazily stroking his cock as she slapped them, dragged her fingernails over them, squeezed them. Spit on him. He whimpered, teasing the underside of the swollen head of his cock, more, flinching as she spat on him again, gasping as she dug her nails into the sensitive area behind his balls, coaxing himself to the edge and then stopping, building the frustration.

She kissed his hot cheek.

“You’re doing so good,” she murmured into his ear, licking it softly.

Her right hand closed around his left and they edged him together, their fingers laced, her teeth on the curve of his ear and his moan radiating off the tiles. Long, deep strokes, building up the speed. So good. Tight, rapid pace, close, his chest rattling, so close, his eyes rolling back when her hand clamped around the base of his aching cock and squeezed hard, cutting off the high and colliding him into the mental wall, his dismayed cry drowned out by her lips devouring his.

Fuck!

Was he going to get to bust a nut or not?!

“Please, don’t.”

He put on his best pout as she held the Magic-8 ball in front of her body. Still wearing her black seamless panties, but that was it. She was lightly sitting on his thighs, straddling him on the bed as she shook it teasingly.

“Noona, come on…”

“Why not? It’ll be fun.”

She lowered it and Jungkook gasped as the black plastic ball touched his chest, wiggling uncomfortably as she rolled it back and forth. Foreign and cold. It warmed up against his skin. She leaned over him, not adding more pressure, but giving a great full-frontal view with her breasts trapped between her upper arms.

“It won’t be fun for me,” he whined, gripping the sheets tightly.

He reached up to squeeze her breasts, using his left hand, shuddering as he felt her hard nipples against his palm, looking up to see her tongue dance at the edge of her smirk, her tousled hair trailing down her shoulder. That had been the game before. He would ask to have sex. She would shake the Magic-8 ball and get his answer – resulting in twenty-six straight refusals from that evil children’s toy. Unlucky? Maybe. Cursed? More likely. Extra cursed because it was Park Jimin who purchased and gifted her the thing.

Grr.

Jungkook was still pissed about that.

She tilted her head, sending part of her face into delicious shadow.

“We can make it a little game.”

His hand slid down her arm and covered hers.

“No games,” he begged, catching the edge of his lower lip with his teeth. Her eyes shifted down. He was playing all his cards. She muttered under her breath, hah, I love that underlip mole of yours, how can I resist a lip bite, fuck, and those cute, round, big brown eyes… all while lowering herself to him, drawn to his plea, releasing her hold on the Magic-8 ball.

She rolled it on his chest and into his open hand.

“Okay. No games.”

She kissed him again.

A claim to his lips. Soft and insistent, working him into a frenzy, making him grip that hard plastic ball tightly as his breathing shallowed, moaning as her tongue slid in, out, in, out. He felt her hands frame his head, crowning him with her fanned-out fingers. Tingling as her thumb rubbed across his temple. His jaw. His earrings, toying with them, nipping at his lower lip and sucking on it, her warm body settling between his legs, soft to hard, rubbing up against him.

Fuck.

Fuuuuck.

She pulled on his hair roughly and his lip slipped from her teeth due his own whimper, gasping hotly as her kisses danced down his throat, then running her tongue over the trail of kisses. She had a hand planted onto his chest to prevent him from arching his back, lapping at his collarbones daintily as she tugged at a fistful of his still damp hair. Sparks of pain showering down from the crown od head meeting the maddening bliss of her lips on his chest, traveling, decorating his clavicle, each mark of her teeth mirroring the redness of a fallen rose petal.

He tried to lower his chin and shuddered against the hurt, making better and worse at the same time, opening his eyes as she let go of his hair, seeing her sliding down his torso.

That ass.

He felt a nip at his nipple and his breathing hitched, snapping down to see her looking up at him, expression highly amused.

“Pretty nice ass, huh?”

No one said she was humble.

He grinned. “Yeah, I should take a pic and make it my phone background.”

She chuckled, running her tongue over his hard nipple and Jungkook shivered, transfixed by the image and the simultaneous surge of pleasure. He lifted his head higher off the pillow. Shallow breaths, watching, the glossy tip of that dexterous pink muscle against his dark nipple, her lips closing around it, feeling his body stiffen as he felt the sucking sensation vibrate through him. The moan bubbled in his tightened chest as she gently bit, licked, sucked, alternating between the actions. Her fingernails dragged over his sides and flexed abs, electrifying his skin with the pressure. He flinched when she released him and replaced the rough play with kisses, moving across his chest to do the same to his other nipple.

She glanced at him, witnessing his perverse enjoyment with a knowing glint in her eye.

He clutched the Magic-8 ball at his side with in his left hand, falling back into the pillow moaning, writhing slightly as the sucking intensified. Her hand slid down, stroking the inside of his thigh. He could barely feel the side of his half-hard cock brush against the back of her hand.

“F-Fuck… please…”

His entire body jolted when she popped her lips off him and sealed her work with a kiss.

“You’re so impatient, Jungkook,” she hummed, pressing her tongue flat to his nipple and rubbing roughly, saliva sticking to his skin. “So needy.”

His mind was spinning. Blood running hot under his skin, body uncontrollably quivering, clutching the sheets and the Magic-8 ball for dear life. The pent-up arousal was driving him insane but, as a wise man once said, gotaa go insane to stay sane. Or something like that. Jungkook couldn’t remember any wise proverbs right now. He was too horny. She was rising, re-clipping her hair with that cute sheep-shaped claw clip, keeping it out of her smirking face.

“Y-Yes, I am needy… a-ah… please…”

Slipping down, down.

She pressed her palms into the innermost part of his thighs, spreading her fingers over his crotch, and swallowed his cock.

He moaned so loud that Min Yoongi surely heard.

Hey.

No one said Jeon Jungkook was subtle.

Especially when being pleasured.

Immediately his cock swelled at her up-and-down motion that came with tongue and lips and a tight, wet, warm throat that pushed him in as deep as possible. He was always somewhat shocked at how easily she maneuvered him without her hands, preferring instead to use only her mouth to take him all the way to the base and lick at his balls, her constricting throat suffocating the thick head of his cock, and then back up, running the sensitive skin over the roof of her mouth and closing her lips around the tip tighter, teasing the underside of the slit with deft flicks. Then, again, swallowing his growing length, molding her tongue to his girth, slathering saliva over his balls.

God, Jungkook loved the bed suck.

She had an immaculate level of control when giving a blowjob on the bed. He didn’t have to do anything but lay back and relax, occasionally looking down to follow her head movements and see his length glistening in between her plush lips, then collapsing again as the erotic euphoria overtook him again, his chest fluttering with the intensity, his core tightening, lost in lust. He completely forgot the itchiness of his right arm. The colors were brighter under the overhead light and the lotion he had applied right before getting into bed, a sharp contrast to her bare arm against his hip, her elegant hand nestled up his side, her perfect round ass in the air. His pants blending into moans, floating on cloud nine from her tight, soft mouth and agile tongue, wondering how the fuck he got this lucky.

She’s basically a porn star in bed, Park Jimin once said.

She paused when she noticed him watching her again. Extended her pink tongue past her lips, slapping his balls and scooping them up against the base of his cock, raising an eyebrow at him.

Damn.

Truer words had never been spoken.

Then – thankfully – she returned her attention to his cock, except this time it was tighter, faster, and he gasped, feeling her push the head up and force it deeper into her throat when she descended, oh, fuck, he could see her breasts bouncing too, those perfect nipples, damn, obvious wet noises drowned out by the more obscene sounds he was making, crying out, moaning, the pace intense and deliberate and racing, and the only way he could describe it was as if somehow her mouth had become a warm, wet sleeve for his twitching cock, powerfully massaging his length all over, close, his eyes rolling back.

There.

He groaned as he shot into her suffocating throat, wanton and pathetic, finally, his mind going blank, pumping thick cum into that tight pocket and whining as she swallowed, fuck, finally, her pinning his flinching hips down as his shuddering length jerked again, another vicious throb and dripping cum, tears stinging the edge of his vision, gasping out her name as the apex of pleasure consumed his nerves and set them alight.

Fucking finally.

He felt his orgasm squish into the back of her tongue and around the aching head of his cock and he moaned. Long and loud and pornographic. He felt himself twitch in her mouth. She brought him down, slow and wet, a low hum vibrating from her throat to his cock to his core.

Jungkook panted.

Tension shimmered throughout his chest and limbs, keeping him breathless.

Wait.

Her tongue rubbed against the underside of his girth, fanning out along the pulsing, abused head, sending racing sparks over his ass and up his spine.

Wait a second.

Her fingertips glided over his slick balls, squeezing them and making him shudder at the shocking bliss.

I’m still hard.

He yelped, snapping his head down, but it was too late, too late to stop, the afterglow of his last orgasm building towards another, her head sliding up and down, her lips flush to his glossy shaft, him whimpering while he watched, shivering at the lewd image and the idea of back-to-back orgasms, so good, fuck, she looks so good and it feels so fucking amazing, the addictive adrenaline spiking, the lasting buzz radiating all over, oversensitivity increasing the forbidden pleasure, tight and wet and soft, taking him as so deep his balls slapped into her chin, the muscles of his body flexed and tense, hard underneath the soft.

His second orgasm slammed into him.

His head fell back and the pleasure swarmed him, knocking the air out of his lungs, drawing out his lustful moan, his heartbeat roaring in his ears. Her name tumbled out of his lips, praises, swears, her name again, the words mixing together on his confused tongue. She swallowed again, loud to his ears, so obvious, and he trembled all over. The sharp spasm of ecstasy left him rattled, whining, feeling her licking him again but tender, even more gentle this time, slurping around his softening cock, the sensitive skin prickling and pulsating under her warm tongue.

“So… fuck… s-so fucking good…”

Oh, how he loved the feeling of her lips and those kisses feathering his thighs, his crotch, his cock, his balls, shivering in delight, all his previous frustrations making it everything so much more satisfying.

Uh.

He didn’t just think that.

Shit.

“Man, you’re loud.”

“Gah!”

“Hey, Yoongi.”

She planted herself on top of his drenched cock, laying out all over him with her hands on his chest and shoulder. Jungkook gawked at her and then at his hyung standing there at her open bedroom door, looking around at the pastel sheep plushies decorating her room and pausing at the pink bunny and tuxedo cat plush sitting on her desk. Then those dark brown orbs moved back to her ass leaning against Jungkook’s still trembling thigh.

“You could have taken off your panties,” he grumbled in his low voice.

She turned her head to look back at Yoongi. “Sorry. I didn’t think about it since I wasn’t going to get any tonight. I didn’t know you would be watching.”

Her words made Jungkook frown. “What do you mean, you aren’t getting any?”

She faced him again, raising her eyebrows. “What are you talking about? We shouldn’t push it. You’ll get too sweaty.”

“But, noona, that’s not fair, I could…?”

Silence.

A bird cawed outside.

“Use you left hand?” Yoongi snorted. “Meh.”

She smiled. “I’ll wait. I can be patient.”

Yeah, well, guess who couldn’t be patient?

As the youngest, he protested. “You could use my thigh. Or… Or my forearm! You like that!”

“No, no. I’m fine with waiting.”

“You’re doing this on purpose! You’re torturing me by not letting me feel you cum!”

Jungkook paled as his hyung and noona grinned at the same time. Deviously. In unison. Scary as fuck. Yoongi leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, his long black hair framing his cunning eyes and open-mouthed smirk, serving every bit the allegations of being sex on legs. Jungkook trembled as he felt her trail her fingers along the base of his neck, sensually rubbing his collarbone. Thumb on one side, four fingers on the other. Not moving up but reminding him nonetheless.

“Whatever gave you that impression?” she drawled.

They were in cahoots.

Not that Jungkook minded.

That was how he got this lucky in the first place.

The Magic-8 ball rested against his naked hip, the window reading, without a doubt.

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #bts smut #jungkook smut #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you #jeon jungkook smut

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