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satoruhour · 7 months

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Gojo would make such pretty noises if he gets a BJ as he’s waking up

a/n: anon u r so real for this !!!!!!!!! i conquered my 2k essay! but also doin a shorter req bc i got distracted by changing themes and it’s late lol / @jabamin @hannzai @shotorus

warnings: fem!reader, consensual somnophilia, sort of subby gojo but not very established, pet names, oral (m! receiving), finger / thumb sucking, deepthroating, multiple rounds, spitting, sloppy bj sort of, this is what i think he would sound like hehe, n*sfw under the cut

gojo’s always known he’s the most sensitive in the morning. before you, he’s settled for his hand, feeling around his centre when he wakes up hard and slips his hand under his boxers where it pumps slowly at his shaft. the orgasm always comes too fast and unsatisfactory, though, done more out of necessity than pleasure.

but you? he finds that he never wants to go back to his hand ever again. you treat him like everything good in the world, both with your soft demeanour and your pretty cunt, all for him and yet not at the same time. you’re so pliant and receptive to his touches and still, you have your own agency; you are your own person. that’s what he admires about you.

you infiltrate his dreams like a temptress, heat forming between his legs as he cuddles closer into what he thinks is your figure. there’s fire all over his body and his hairs stand and the trails the blaze leaves seem like fingers. they span his body, heart rate speeding up and he wishes he hadn’t buried his body in the sheets last night. they want to move, but satoru is locked down by sleep and your wandering hands.

“’toru . .” gojo moans at the soft voice that whispers his name in his dreams, unaware you’re doing the exact thing. you’re already drooling at the half-hard bulge that pokes out from below his underwear, clinging to his skin and darkening in colour with each trail of your finger along his body.

so sensitive . .

here, gojo looks as splendid as the morning tokyo sun even if the weather outside struggled to stay stable. the clouds soon hover over the city, pouring down light raindrops and the drop in temperature only makes your boyfriend whine again.

you poke a manicured nail to his length that twitches on its own, pressing and prodding with it and enjoy the soft sounds that escape his lips each time. “baby”, ”princess”, it’s a different name each time for satoru always enjoys referring to you with pet names, and the low raspiness of it only pushes your resolve further—

“it’s okay, sweets, you know you have access to my body. i trust you.”

even with your boyfriend’s authority, you’re still unsure shown in the way your hands hesitantly pull at his underwear. you’re snapped out of your dilemma when a drawled whimper leaves him, whiny and high-pitched in nature that it sends chills down your whole body. there are murmurs of your name on his lips, lingering like the sugary sweets and the saccharine of your kisses. the cold air is simply too much for his sensitive cock, and gojo’s hips buck in cute little jerks.

his length and girth always takes you by surprise no matter how many times you see it, but it feels just a little different when you’re the one to fish it out yourself. satoru is just so hard, pink mushroom tip leaking pre-cum all over his pelvis and a curve to his dick in wanton need.

you let out a breath when your soft hands wrap around his length, at the same gojo sucks in a breath in his sleep — if that was even possible — and tenses his thighs. in his dream you’re doing more than whatever you were doing right now, imagining your pussy wrapped around his throbbing cock.

but you like it slow. your hands drag themselves across his shaft, stroking slowly just to allow him to fully harden and gojo starts to kick his legs slightly, hands have begun to clutch uncomfortably at the sheets. your head lowers to his tip, blowing lightly at the sensitive area and it almost gets him waking completely from unconsciousness. wrecked moans and whines continue to weasel themselves out of his throat, brows knitted and mouth in a temporary ‘o’.

“satoru,” you call, with no intent behind it rather than just wanted to feel the syllables roll against your tongue, “satoruuu . .”

but the mission last night takes a good amount of toll on him. you stick out your tongue to kitten lick his weeping tip and your lover jolts in your hands yet again. it’s so adorable, seeing the normally confident man plead, and he wasn’t even conscious.

“y—yess . .?” you’re unsure if he’s sleep-talking or if he’s really awake but you press on. your mouth suckles on the tip like a pacifier, teasing the most sensitive part of his cock. there, you swirl your tongue around, hands still pumping lazily. gojo’s voice cracks on the next moan, reality sinking in on him bit by bit. you’re relentless, tonguing your muscle along frenulum and around.

and then when you look up, you can see a pair of drowsy eyelids open, looking with his blue eyes through the whiteness of his lashes. it feels like he wasn’t of this world, the initial confusion morphing into recognition and then pleasure —

“ohh . . f-fuuuckk . . ” gojo’s voice shakes as you then descend upon his shaft, warm mouth encompassing every inch of his cock until your nose buries itself in his pubes. the loud moan satoru lets out only makes your eyes roll to the back of your head, sure that your hips were grinding into the sheets. “a-always take my cock so well, shit.”

he’s normally reduced to a state of non-verbality in the morning, but he seems to still have some adrenaline from last night’s mission. gojo’s head meets with the pillow below him, stuck between enjoying how fucking hot your mouth feels versus watching you take all of him down your throat.

you start to bob your head, the gurgling noises along his throbbing length only adding to the lewdness of the scene. he lovingly trails his hand through your locks, brushing back stray hair that interferes with you. they continue to do that (his love knows no ends), undoing the knots in your hair while you uncoil the familiar feeling in his tummy. “baby, baby, baby—”gojo’s eyes squeezes shut and his chest heaves needily with lined sweat, neck straining just to catch a glimpse of how you deep-throat him. your fingers grasp onto his thighs so harshly that they would probably bruise.

you’re keeping eye contact as you come up to breathe while gojo’s hand who took refuge in your hair switches its sanctuary to your face. his heart and dick jumps when you lean into the touch, both your hooded lids matching each other before his thumb runs over your bottom lip. in the rainy morning, you can exchange words without saying anything; you just know satoru that well.

gojo’s thumb traces the softness of your lips before he dips it inside and you take the finger into your mouth willingly, sucking intently as you make the strongest weaker and weaker by you, alone. all he does is spiral, moans transforming into little whines at how you suck on his thumb and it’s off — because then after your mouth closes in around his cock again and he swears so loud it probably reaches the neighbours.

“mmfuuuck—! o-oh my god—” your head bobs again, tongue running along the underside of his cock each time you do, hands moving along the places where you can’t reach and the moans that fill your ears only gets needier and needier. “princess i’m gonna— pleaseplease—!”

gojo has that split second to prop himself up just so he can see you take his cum down your throat, a hand holding your head in place alongise a makeshift ponytail. but your mouth mimics your pussy so well, wrapped snugly around him that he has no time to warn you before he’s cumming deep into your mouth. you jerk in surprise before moaning at the feeling, letting him spurt ropes of cum down your throat as your pace slows down.

“c’mon . . let me see, pretty girl,” satoru assists you in coming off of his cock, and the white in your mouth spills out almost instantly. “aaattagirl . .” your boyfriend grins his infamous lazy morning grin that makes your heart do flips, faltering just a bit when you let his seed drip down your tongue and back onto his dick.

“s’much cum, satoru.” you mumble, intoxicated, fingers connected by strings of his cum and you gather saliva mixed with cum to spit onto his shaft and the gesture is so hot that he needs to see you do it again, and you indulge him — you push out saliva past your lips, a long string before he finally meets his sensitive tip again.

gojo reaches heaven a second time when your hands pick up pace again, slick noises now filling his ears.

“want more.”

bro it’s like i forgot how to write 😭😭

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celestialwhoree · 2 months

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Someone sent this to my inbox but

Simon X Uniform kink!reader🥴🩷

nsfw below the cut 💕 mdni

Normally, when Simon gets home, his first port of call is stripping off his balaclava, changing from his uniform. He leaves Ghost at the door. Your quiet, peaceful home shouldn’t be tainted by the shadow of death that lingers perpetually at his back.

To him, there’s a stigma around Ghost, around his whole career, making a life out of ending others’. Ghost gets left in the threshold of your entrance hall, dropped onto the welcome home mat and replaced by Simon. To you, it’s impossible to ignore the way he looks darkening your doorstep like death incarnate, so powerful, the epitome of brute, primal human strength. He exudes such power, such masculinity. It makes you feel weak in the most wonderful way.

Just once, you find yourself pleading for him to leave his uniform on, to let Ghost in. To take away the stigma of the thing that haunts your life. With tentative agreement and a hand on the small of your back, you’re guided back to the bedroom.

You know that Ghost will be rough, not like the soft, gentle dominance of Simon - who knows that he barely has to lift a finger to have you pliant under his touch. Ghost believes in no such thing. Ghost is a killer. A violent man who has no concept of gentleness or grace. If you want Ghost to fuck you, he’ll fuck you halfway to hell and back. The way you’re thrown down onto the bed is only a testament to how unyielding Ghost is, shredding your panties with his teeth without a word, just a growl of agreement when he sees you glistening wet.

There’s no warning when he plunges two fingers into your glistening pussy, his nails digging into the curve of your side when you cry out, a warning - a threat. He doesn’t take off his bulletproof vest, doesn’t flinch when you wrap your fingers in the velcro straps, only looking down at you with cruel knowing. Before you know it, he’s yanking down his fly, hardly bothering to pull down his jeans. He doesn’t need to. Ghost is tactical. Ghost doesn’t care for feelings.

The way his cock springs from his boxers, hard up against his abdomen, had you flinching. He makes you nervous. This Ghost is worlds away from your Simon, and it’s easy to see why people fear him so much.

You’re tempted to whine when he notches his tip against your already sensitive clit, quickly silenced by his fingers covered in your taste filling your mouth leaving you almost shamefully gagging, tears springing to your eyes.

“Been practically beggin’ me to fuck you for days now and now you’re whinin’?” He growls cruelly into your ear, his free hand finding your hip to position you. You don’t get a chance to think before his tip is thumping painfully into your cervix, leaving you crying out as you claw at his vest, his mask, anything to keep some semblance of control. He keeps a brutal pace, cruel taunts mixing with praise for how well you take him, what a perfect slut you are.

His hand pressing down slightly on the bulge in your tummy is what sends you over the edge, Simon’s brown eyes melting into stars and blinding white light as he pulls out of you, pumping his shaft and spurting ropes of hot cum on your abdomen, leaving the both of you heaving.

Ghost trickles down the shower drain along with sweat and dirt and cum, Simon washing your hair carefully as you lean your head into the crook of his neck, letting hot water pummel down your back.

“I love you. All of you.” You confess into his skin, finally content to have seen all of Simon. Not just the nice bits.

#cod mwii #cod mw2 #tf 141 #cod #call of duty #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley #ghost x reader #simon ghost x reader #Simon Riley smut #Simon Riley x you #simon riley x f!reader #ghost x f!reader #simon ghost riley x yn #ghost smut #ghost call of duty

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hoseoksluna · 11 days

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ROSÉ | jjk

pairing: boyfriend!jungkook x wine!oc

genre: smut

word count: 5.7k

summary: on your first dinner date, your boyfriend brings you a small gift—too bad you're too horny to appreciate it.

pinterest board: wine

warnings: a bit of drunkenness, a mention of inner child healing, oc teases jungkook and oc is horny as fuck, dom/sub dynamics, wine!jk, provider jk..., daddy issues, punishment, spanking, food used during intercourse, oral sex (f. and m. receiving), dirty talk, a mention of a sex toy & a mention of a plushie in a sexual context, raw sex, brattiness, jk and oc smoke together

note: OH GOD—IT'S FINALLY HERE. SLFJSLDFJS. A REQUESTED DRABBLE about wine!oc and jungkook. this was so fucking fun to write and i was so hot and bothered from this that i had to take a break............ yeah uhm anyways, I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS. ENJOY READING AND LEMME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK ANONYMOUSLY IN MY INBOX. I NEED YOUR THOUGHTS. PLS AND THANK YOU. ₊˚⊹♡

side note: jk in the first pic made me fucking die. and other things....

The rosy pink nectar has, undeniably, gone to your head.

Your empty wine glass is illuminated by the setting sunlight spilling past your shoulder, reaching its yellow, warm fingers to the tips of your boyfriend’s that rest lazily on the white cloth of the table. You’re woozy, in a lighthearted mood—so much that even the world has lost its heft and all you can sense is the sluggish process of your absorption. You’re engrossed in the way the spring coalesces with the beginning of summer—in the warm evening wind ruffling your curls, tickling your bare shoulders, in the darkening hues of the sky, pinks and violets, in the gray smoke of Jungkook’s cigarette interlacing with the slightly sultry air. You can see it in his eyes, the unfolding of it all. And perhaps you’re tipsy or perhaps you’re just brazenly and foolishly falling in love, because you’re aware that if the man weren’t sitting in front of you, none of these things wouldn’t have caught your attention in such a devastatingly profound way.

He has made you feel so safe. By simply and beautifully laying his feelings bare. To you and for you. Created a haven for you to dwell in, for you to grow in and explore all the dark and light corners of you that have merely seldom seen the face of the sun. How could you not indulge in a little bit of alcohol, when you’re protected in that place of security? Let your girlishness swim a little, refresh herself, enjoy herself?

You’re glowing. You always had been, but your shimmers have gained a new intensity to their twinkles, keeping Jungkook’s liquid stars warm and taken care of inside of you. Their blunt points have carved you into someone else entirely, too. Joyous, cool-headed and absolutely and irrevocably self-assured. Fearless. And his hands have reached deep within and caressed the head of your inner child, healing her and washing her clean, giving her everything she ever lacked. Love, attention, care and validation. Whenever you remember that you never wanted him to get a glimpse of your soul, bile rises in your throat and your stomach hurts.

He saved you. Healed you. Through and through. Gave you his control.

It stirs your never-ending awe that he has managed to do this in a month, and you want to celebrate it. You think now is quite the perfect occasion for it as it’s your first dinner date since you’ve become exclusive. Having spent most of your time at each other’s places fucking, partying and fucking some more, it’s nice to be out, alone with him, that is—and it’s nice as fuck to be out with your boyfriend. The sex has become so different with the label and the rawness of his feelings. And the thing about Jungkook that gets you the most, that strengthens the realm he invented for you, is that once his emotions overflow, the stream of its wine doesn’t stop pouring. The moment he confessed his love for you, ever since then you sense it expressed in everything he does—in the way he greets you in the day, in his tight, burning embrace, in the tenderness with which he holds your hand or kisses it, the relentless, great thought and consideration he puts in the choices he makes for you on the daily. Whether it’s the fatuous things he buys you that mean the world to you, the way he never neglects bunny and incorporates her in everything you do together or… the sex.

Fuck, the sex alone has taken over your life so vividly and drastically that it consumes your brain. There, in that environment, is where the wine of his emotions is the raciest. He’s not ashamed to cry, letting those liquid pearls trickle down your collarbones, quenching the thirst of his liquid stars as he fucks you dumb and enjoys every second of it. He’s not afraid to be loud either. To talk you through your orgasm with even more care and detail than you were accustomed to in the past.

He’s become boundless. And it’s the most attractive thing you’ve ever seen in your life.

God, you’d be crazy not to let yourself fall for him—

“I got you dessert,” Jungkook husks, digging his fingers into the pocket of his pants while his other digits draw close to his mouth. He takes a drag of his cigarette, crinkling his eyes so the smoke wouldn’t get into them and you beam at him with a fire that’s more scorching than the sun’s ever been in centuries, heart doing somersaults at the thought of him thinking of you and spending money on you again. And, also, at how hot he looks while he smokes.

Your love language must be gift-giving. You don’t know what else to connect it to, the joy that envelops your entire being whenever he gives you something. It doesn’t even have to be expensive, nor does he have to pay for it at all. Drawings have become your favorite keepsakes—drawings of his Miffy bunny, drawings of flowers, of you. You’ve hidden them away in a box along with everything he’s ever brought you, except the white bunny ring because you wear it daily and one small, particular drawing that you’ve put inside your glittery phone case.

A cutesy marker sketch of him and you. His arm around your shoulders. Bunny sitting on your laps in the middle, as if she were your own child. Cheeks big and bubbly, pink and twinkling. Your curls the way you wear them; his mullet. A perfect depiction of the pair of you. You gaze at it every single day—prefer to now put your phone face down because of it.

You’re tracing it now with the pad of your finger as you wait for him to reveal your mystery gift to you. The bulby heads, the cheeks, Miffy’s ears. Jungkook puts out his cigarette, puffing out the smoke, away from you, and once he’s done, he taps the back of your hand. Turns it over and spreads out your fingers, inserting, at a snail's pace, something round but slender at the same time, smiling adoringly at you.

What a sight to behold. It steals, fleetingly, your attention away from his hand.

Slicked back mullet, twinkles taking laps in his soft eyes, blushed cheekbones and stretched, pouty mouth, shiny with his liquid love. Long neck that you’d like to devour now, the broadness of his shoulders and chest that could come second as a plain, dark beige shirt accentuates his hard work at the gym.

Oh, fuck. Your nipples pebble against your carmine tube top.

Jungkook withdraws his hand and with blurry eyes, you look at the thing he placed in your palm.

Chupa Chups. Strawberry and cream.

Your mouth parts and it’s a concoction of a gasp and a sound of endearment when the realization that he got you a lollipop sinks in. Your heart flips and does a head stand. Lips round into a pout, drunk eyes softening, its twinkles growing in size and light. It’s like he gave you something golden, when in fact it costs a few wons, but to you it’s exactly that. Something so precious.

You give him an air kiss, bouncing in your seat in joy, fingers already destroying the wrapper. “Thank you so…”

Your brows furrow as the wrapper remains intact. You do a bad, bad job of picking at the tape around the slender stick, your long manicured hands absolutely useless—and the cause of your frustration. You puff out an angry gust of breath, trying harder to get to the sweet delight and it’s at that moment that your boyfriend takes it from your hands with a deep chuckle.

“You silly boo, this is how you do it.” Jungkook pinches the wrapper around the stick and he merely, in a few swift motions, twists the ball until it lets go. He scrunches it in his fists and throws it away in the ashtray. Smirks smugly, leans his elbows on the table, draws close to you. You mirror his position, get to him almost nose to nose, and his smirk deepens, tongue darting out to lick across his lips. You do the same, eyeing the round pinkness in his hand, the sexual attraction and its tension soaring high between you.

Without your hands, you could put it in your mouth, mimic the way you do it on his own tip and make him lose his mind a little bit. It’s right here, an inch away and you dip your head towards it, a magnetic pulling drawing you naturally to it. Sense his gaze on you, sense his delight, sense the flashback glimmering across the wholeness of him. But before you could wrap your lips around it, he moves it out of your reach.

“No,” Jungkook murmurs, breath slightly ragged, holds it up in front of your face, watches as you go cross-eyed a little bit. Hums at the sight, quietly enough for only you to hear. “If you want it, ask for it nicely.”

His puffy lips being so close to you, you desire to kiss him—cheeks flushing a deeper shade of pink, his oh-so-loved dominance fucking with your drunkenness and your brain, body altogether. You tip your head to the side, flutter your lashes, make your eyes big and smile at him as sweetly as you can.

He coos, validating you, and it is a force that makes you feel safe enough to submit to him like a small animal to its father. Safe enough to want to get under the table and make him feel really, really good, too.

“Can I have the lollipop, please?”

He groans, still quietly, and your panties drench immediately. You widen your eyes at him, feeling your slick, pursing your lips to scold him silently. He just laughs, amused by it all, and the sound of his joy fills you with elation.

One that darkens, when he asks, “Where?”

You lick your lips, taking in the question, struck by it. Letting your mind wander, the places where you want it, except your mouth, is on your nipples and your clit. Nicely sweet and sticky—for him to clean up, for him to enjoy. Your dewiness soaks the material of your panties and your body begins to yearn for any kind of friction. You’re not sure whether you’re able to stick around in your chair, acting as if nothing’s wrong—acting as if you’re not stupendously horny.

“In my mouth.”

Jungkook makes a noise of appreciation and you’re so frustrated by all those sounds he makes that you want to dig your nails in his arms and make him pay for it. Even more so, when he plunges the lollipop into his mouth and his lips pucker around it, inciting the butterflies in your tummy to go absolutely fucking berserk. You place your hand on his bicep, nails ready to attack, but then he pulls out the treat with a pop, angling it at your mouth.

“Open.”

You thought he stole it from you, but he did no such thing. He wetted it for you, like a father for its child. You’re stupefied to the point that you don't even realize that you’re leaving a mark on the linen material of your seat.

You do open your mouth for him, however.

He twists the ball on your tongue, expecting you to close your mouth around the stick, but you don’t. No, you swirl that muscle around the candy, deepening your gaze, smirking. Jungkook stills, clenches his strong jaw. Darkness flicks across his eyes and he narrows them. First warning.

You pretend you don’t see it.

Closing your mouth and encasing your hand around his, you move the lollipop to the side of your cheek, acting as if it were his dick. And when you bob your head once, Jungkook tugs on the stick, wanting to pull it out, but you don’t let him, keeping it caged between your teeth. It only drives you to bob your head again.

“Stop,” he says, voice calm, deep and serious—terribly deadly. Withdraws his hand and leans back, watching you with a predatory gaze, one that makes you even wetter. “Or we’re going home.”

That’s exactly what you want. Instructions clear.

You open your mouth and do a show of swirling your tongue around the ball, only this time you flick the muscle against it. Jungkook grips the table, knuckles white, and you laugh, which you soon realize was a grave mistake.

“You think it’s funny?” he questions you, staring you down with a look that should frighten you, but it merely turns you on. You suck on the lollipop, the dulciness of strawberries suffusing your senses. “I’ll bend you over this fucking table, lift up that slutty little skirt and spank you in front of everyone.”

You pull out the candy with an exaggerated pop. Scowl at him. As though his words didn’t affect you the way that they did—as though you’re not squeezing your thighs together, trying to gain that friction you so desperately need. “Why are you so angry?”

He looks away for a moment, laughing silently. Nods his head at your wine glass. “You finished with your wine, baby?”

It’s this pleasantness that you hear in this voice that spreads goosebumps across your skin. Feigned sugariness—the sunlight right before the clouds come in and thunder strikes; the calm before the storm.

Good thing you’re dressed for the rain and ready to sing in it.

You nod your head and Jungkook clicks his tongue, grabs you by your hand whilst he pulls out his wallet. You accompany him as he walks over to the bar, black card ready between his fingers. Waits to be noticed. Gives you a look over and fixes your skirt, pulling the hem down.

Pays for you. Smiles down at you as he pockets his wallet.

And then, he drags you to his car.

Perhaps it’s the fresh air, perhaps it’s the briskness in his walk and the tight hold around your hand, but all intoxication evaporates from your body, leaving only your stained elation and neediness. You can’t help your smile. Think it must be sewn in at this point. By his own diligent fingers.

A wind blows in, pulling your hair to your front and Jungkook pins you against his car. Tits squished against the passenger side, elbows pressed together. Eyes wide, you check your surroundings and find no one in sight. Only swaying trees, buildings of apartments, lamps illuminating the dark street. You relax right away, trusting Jungkook that he’s on the lookout and knows what he’s doing.

He grinds his hips against your backside and you moan at the feeling of his hard length. With his free hand, he brushes your hair to one side and begins to pepper kisses along the curve of your neck, nuzzling his face in. Hovers his lips above your ear when he says, “You feel how hard you made me with your little show?” You nod, quickly, wanting more of him, wanting him inside of you. Push your hips back; twirl them in slow circles. Jungkook hisses. “I guess you really do want that spanking. Where’s your lollipop?” You show him your hand, where your treat remains uneaten and dry. He takes it from you and you turn your head in time to see him sink it into his mouth, placing it on the side of his mouth like you did. “Get inside the car.”

Jungkook opens the door for you and forces you in, closing it with a harsh thud. As he rounds the vehicle, he makes eye contact with you and your tummy flips in response.

Fuck.

Nothing happens in a millisecond once he’s seated, but then he grabs your cheeks, squishing them in the way he likes, and kisses you hard, lollipop in hand. Moving his mouth against yours, his tongue only briefly greets you before he pulls away. “Naughty fucking girl. You’re lucky that I love you because otherwise…” He doesn’t finish his sentence with words, but with another kiss, breathing against you, grunting when it’s you this time that slips the tongue inside, playing with him the same way you played with the dessert he got you. “Fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me. I’m gonna put you in your fucking place, make you remember how to behave in public. You’ve forgotten, haven't you?”

You don’t have time to react, you merely bite your lip so hard that it aches. Jungkook pushes you back and yanks your leg between his, lifting your skirt. Then, he hovers his palm above your ass, the other forearm resting on the top of the seat, lollipop dangling near your head. He hides his smirk behind his effort to flatten his lips.

And when he spanks you, you don’t roll your eyes back and rasp like your body naturally wants you to. No, you hold the eye contact and you take the pain, letting it course through your body, reveling in it. He doesn’t say anything as he keeps going, alternating between slapping your now reddened cheeks and the back of your thigh. Doesn’t even stroke the skin to alleviate the burn. He solely bores his gaze into yours, his cock rock hard against your leg. Another set of words are exchanged, silently, deeply, teaching you your lesson in tandem with the hits, burying it to a great depth inside you.

And then he finishes with a nasty kiss, but his hand resumes causing you pain. You’ve lost count of how many spanks you’ve taken.

It’s like you’ve woken up from a trance. It reverberates throughout your entire body and it’s now that you allow your body to vocally react. You whine, rounding your mouth in a pout, so different from the one on the dinner date. And you remember your manners—perceive how wrong it was to tease him, even though a good half of you still takes delight in it.

“It hurts,” you whisper, nudging your lips against him and he gives you your last spank—the hardest of them all. The infliction makes you flutter your eyes shut and Jungkook brings them back to him by caressing his knuckles down your flushed cheek.

“Good, you remember how to behave now?” he asks, halting his movement, such piercing intensity in his irises that drive you to nod your head. “That’s my good little girl.” Taps the side of your thigh. “Let Daddy make it better now.”

You open your legs for him and Jungkook pushes your soaked panties to the side, revealing your little bedewed seashell. He hums at the sight of her, pops the lollipop back inside his mouth. Collects your arousal by swirling the pads of his middle and ring finger around your hole, eyes flicking from your pussy to your own, groaning when he comes into contact with your swollen clit, rubbing slow circles. You whimper, bucking your hips, needing him to go faster, needing to come.

Jungkook shakes his head, disapproving. “You take what I give you or I’ll stop.” Lifts his hand to express the gravity of his threat and you help, wrapping both hands around his and putting it back on your bundle of nerves. He chuckles at your desperation, giving you the same circles, though now firmer.

Waves the lollipop near your lips. You open your mouth, instinctively, and he plunges it into your mouth for a mere second before he pulls away, growling at the sound that comes out. He does it again, fucking you with it in a way, just to hear that pop and he’s so pleased with it that he sinks those two fingers inside your heat, fully, in one ego. Keeps them there. Teases you. Hovers the lollipop out of your reach and you decide to fuck with him back. Darting out your tongue, you whirl it around the flat side and he swears, moaning, giving to you at last.

He latches his mouth onto your neck, starting the drill of his fingers. “Fuck, you’re so hot.”

He picks up the speed so rapidly that you scream, squeezing your eyes shut, the pleasure permeating your body so vastly that you quiver all over. Grab a hold of his hair, pulling on it and then—

Then, he withdraws his fingers. Ruins your orgasm.

You pant, trying to catch your breath. “Please, Jungkook, please—”

He nudges his nose against yours. “What, baby?”

“I need to come, please.”

Jungkook tuts, kissing you once. “I thought we could play.” Plunges the lollipop into your mouth to wet it. Shows it to you, just to see you go cross-eyed again. Moans. “Where do you want it, hm?”

Ever the angel that makes your fantasies come to life. You wrap your fingers around his hand, butterflies swarming in your tummy. Lead him towards your still clothed breasts. “Here.” Take him to your drooling pussy. “And here.”

Jungkook makes a sound of approval. Descends his fingers a little lower, to your other hole, circles it. “What about here?”

You giggle, but you shake your head. The idea may be intoxicating, however reality is much different. There’s a risk to putting any sweetened food inside, one you don’t want to deal with.

Jungkook smiles at you, pushes your seat back and slides it in the same direction. Crawls over you and you feel so feminine, so sexy underneath him. Nipples perked under your top, breasts full and spilling. You arch your back towards him and Jungkook drags his thumb from your bottom lip, to your chin, neck, the dip of your collarbones until he reaches the hem of your Tom and he tugs it down so harshly that you can’t contain your very own concoction of a gasp and moan.

Lollipop in mouth, one hand propped by your head, the other squeezes your breast hard, nearing it, fingers pinching your nipple. Makes the flesh as red as your ass. You can tell he likes the view by the way he coos, but then he wipes all your thoughts away, when he sucks hard on the candy and swirls it around your stiffened nub, gaze flicked to yours to watch your reaction.

The pleasure is so vivid, so dizzying—and for him, you let it paint your face in all its colors. Brows scrunched, bedroom eyes, mouth parted, puffing out desperate breaths. Jungkook sucks it again and smears his saliva around your other nipple, taking his time, slapping the ball once against it, making you hiss.

“It feels so good,” you murmur, sinking your fingers into the longer length on the back of his hair, bringing his mouth to yours. You kiss him with a verve that causes him to groan. You swallow that sound, satisfied.

He grins at you. “I bet.”

Dips his head and envelops that sugar-coated nub with his warm lips, sucking it hard. His groan spreads there, deepens there and you arch your back even more, pulling his head to your other nipple so he can do the same thing. Join your other hand to his hair and do whatever you please—turn his head side to side, from one nub to the other—and he lets you, giving you, momentarily, his control. You feel your essence soaking the seat beneath you and you thank the heavens that the fabric is one of leather. You lift his head and try to push it down, but he won’t budge. Stares you down instead, lustfully.

“Where do you want me?” he asks, a wrinkle between brows. “Be a good girl and tell me.” Pops the lollipop back in his mouth.

You sigh, kissing him once on the side of his neck, using your tongue. Make sure you’re looking at him as you reply, “On my clit.”

He moans, eyes woozy, finger on the stick as he sucks the candy, clefts of dimples on either side of his cheeks. You palm his length, your own digits rounding across his tight balls and he whisks his irises back, grinding into your hand. “You want a lickie?”

“Yes, so bad, please.”

He hums and kneels before you, kissing your clit once in greeting. Then, he flattens his tongue and licks a fat stripe across your whole femininity—from your slit, to your swollenness. Hands on your hips, index curled around the lollipop, he holds you steady, prevents you from meeting him, as he stimulates you like this. Up and down, tongue rolling, eyes fixed on you, devouring you. And when he stops to suck your clit, he taps your mouth once with the ball of the lollipop. The act of sucking on something while you’re getting pleasured like this almost throws you over the edge, your body coated in a layer of sweat, but Jungkook withdraws in time. Presses the delight in the middle and rubs small circles, just to prepare you for the big thing. You become so whiny, so loud that his eyes grow in size, watching you in awe.

To reward you for such beauty, he rapidly strums it from side to side, causing you to nearly levitate, but he pins you down. Wetting it and placing it back down, grunting at the aftertaste of you mixed with the sweetness.

And he can’t resist. Can’t hold back. The wrinkle between his brows deepens when he tastes you, licking you all over, tongue stopping occasionally its feast to flick at your clit before he swallows you whole. Grunts, sucks, licks. Eyes closed to savor the taste. The pressure in your core heightens, even more so when he lifts your legs, greedy for the side dish in the form of your other hole. You’re so close that you might burst.

“You taste so fucking good, baby. So sweet. Come on my tongue, please, I want more of you.”

He wants more of your taste.

You come so hard that your orgasm takes you to an open sea, your body floating on calm waves, to and fro, eyes rolled to the sky—to the sunroof—seeing nothing but the elegance of the twinkling stars and deep purple clouds.

“That’s it, baby, so good. That’s my little girl.” He slaps the side of your thigh, bringing you back to him. “Listening so well, learning her lesson, coming so hard. I’m proud.”

His words alone could make you come again, but you’re distracted.

Jungkook unbuttons his pants and pulls out his manhood. Stroking himself, he lines his tip at your mouth. He doesn’t even have to tell you to open up—you do it yourself. Holding it at the base, he stuffs your throat right away, a guttural chuckle emitting out of his mouth when you gag. He pulls out to where you’re comfortable having him and you begin to bob your head, like you did with the lollipop.

“Yes, suck it like that, my love. Daddy loves it when you do that.”

His precum on your tongue, the way he’s holding himself, the position and his words—you moan around him, so out of your mind, so fucked out. And when he fucks your mouth, it turns you on so much that you go cross-eyed.

Jungkook pulls out quickly, as if the sight of it alone was about to make him come. A string of your saliva from his tip drips onto your chest and he slides into your mouth again just to poke your cheek, just to mimic what you did with the lollipop. You whine, liking it so much, to the point that he drills this tender place of yours until he can’t take it enough.

“Turn around.” You try to, but your legs are jelly. He manhandles you to the position he wants—on your knees, tits against the leather, arms around the headrest, the formerly abused cheek against it. “Hold onto it. Too bad we left bunny at home, huh?”

Jungkook runs his cock across your pussy and you grind against it, needing the friction after the way he used you. You whimper for him. “She’s probably wondering where we are right now and why we’re taking so long.”

“I’ll make it up to her.” He presses his length against your clit, encouraging you to use him back. “Rub your pussy like that on me, fuck.” He moves so it’s his tip that stimulates you. You ride him harder, moaning loudly against the leather. “You can make it up to her, too. Can ride her like I know you can. With a vibrator between your legs and hers, hm? How you like the sound of that?”

You’re so close you could come in a second, but you don’t want it like this. You need him inside of you. “Shut up, I’m literally gonna come like this. Fuck me.”

He fists your hair. Pain shoots up your scalp and he ruts into your heat. Fully. Until his pelvis collides with your ass. You scream.

Lips by your ear. “Is this how you talk to your Daddy?” He begins to pump into your little tight hole. Mercilessly. The leather squeaks, a horrible, rapid sound that you can only faintly hear because all that your senses can focus on is his cock. “Your Daddy that loves you so much?”

You come, pathetically. Sea and waves, palm trees that sway. Your legs tremble, but he keeps going, mouthing the shape of your ear.

He tsks. “I’m gonna tell bunny on you. Maybe I’ll be the one who gets to fuck her while you watch.” He gives you a hard stroke, one that is followed by rapid thrusts that scramble your brain. “She’ll be so disappointed to hear how bad you’ve been, but I’ll make sure to tell her how hard I fucked it out of you.”

Lifting you from the leather, he kneads your breasts, placing the lollipop in between and holding it up by squishing them.

“Come on, get your lollipop.” He bounces your tits in his hands, signalizing you that he wants you to do it with your mouth.

But you can’t do it. You come, majestically, your senses leaving you and wafting in the stuffed air of the car. Boneless, you sag in his arms.

Jungkook coos. “You come so well around me that I’ll be good to you. You’re just a cockslut, aren’t you, baby? You just can’t help it, hm?” He puts the lollipop inside your mouth, chasing his so-needed release.

It doesn’t take long for him to find the footsteps into that bliss that you left in your wake. He holds you like this, against him, tits spilling over his forearms as he jackhammers into you so hard that your whole body bounces, shakes and reacts to each grunt, to each whimper, to each kiss he presses onto your skin.

With the little of the brain you have left, you decide to talk him through it—because he fucks you so good.

“Come for me, Daddy, yes, please, fuck. Fill me up with your cum. I want it so bad, I want to feel you—” His cock twitches in you, but he continues, sloppily. “Yes, so good. That’s it. Come for your little girl, Jungkook.” A loud groan. A tight hold. A spurt of his cum inside your walls. You whimper and he fucks it deeper into you, giving you more of his liquid stars. “Jungkook, oh fuck, Jungkook, oh yes.”

And it’s that never-ending litany of his name that helps him chase his high to the fullest. He kisses your neck hard in gratitude for helping him come, marking you, marking this memory.

You stay like this for a little while. Sweaty, sticky, spent, breathing hard—lungs synced.

A warm announcement sneaks to your heart, one that screams it into the drowsy skies once Jungkook pulls out of you, turns you around and, stealing your candy, kisses you.

An announcement that you’re deeply and irrevocably in love with him.

“You sounded just like me.” He finishes your lollipop for you, chewing the small bulby head as he dresses you and his cum spills onto your panties.

Your smile is dopey, satisfied and you’re ready for sleep to take you, but Jungkook gets out of the car for a smoke. You think you need one, too, after what you’ve experienced together, and so you follow him out into the night on wobbly legs.

He leans against his car, a cigarette in his mouth, one hand cupping the fire as he flicks his lighter to life. You wait until he puffs out the smoke into the air before you fold into the side of his body, stealing his cigarette and inhaling it, giving it back to him.

Jungkook pats your head, rubbing your scalp, chin propped on it. “I didn’t mean what I said. You were perfect. I’m not telling shit to bunny, I promise.”

You smile, fondly. Didn’t take his words seriously, not at all, but you’re grateful for the reassurement regardless. It’s just role-play, nothing else.

“I know, baby,” you say, softly, massaging his stomach, going as far as under his shirt to feel his bare skin—ever so innocently.

“I wanted to fuck you the moment you sat down. You’re just my little helper and because of that I’m glad we’re going home with my cum in your panties,” he whispers, placing the cigarette on your lips, so you can take a drag. “You deserve every drop.”

You feel that familiar ache rooting in your core again, but you don’t think you can take another round. Jungkook lifts your chin, making you look at him. Twinkles, bigger than the ones of the stars up above, living in his soft eyes. That cute nose. Those pouty lips. His silky, dreamy heart that looks out for you and puts you first.

The three words that you’ve never told him before rise up your body and you think now is the perfect occasion to say them.

“I love you.”

Wetness coats his eyes and the twinkles broaden, saturating them with an unfathomable, fulging light. He flicks his cigarette away, presses you closer to him and with his now free hand, he cups your face. Kisses you. For a long, long time.

“I love you.”

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#jungkook x oc #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook smut #bts smut #bts imagine #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fluff #btscreatorscorner #kpop smut #jungkook one shot

1K notes · View notes

sinnaminsuga · 2 months

Text

𝖗𝖊𝖉 𝖑𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙𝖘 𝖆𝖉𝖏𝖆𝖈𝖊𝖓𝖙 - sub!hyunjin x sub!reader x dom!chan

wc: 2,804

cw: hyunjin is a slut, so is the reader, chan likes it that way. SMUT MDNI.

synopsis: while shooting the red lights mv chan noticed something about hyunjin and now he's got a theory he wants to test, he just needs your help.

a/n: was literally plagued with visions of overstimulating hyunjin and making him cry soooo this is what i ended up with. oops. also if there are any spelling errors pls don't tell me bc ive read this trash so many times trying to work it all out and if i have to re-read it again i might go blind.

sw: dirty talk, daddy kink, unprotected sex (pls be smarter than that), bondage, threesome, some gay shit, breeding, blowjobs, lingerie, deepthroating, general toughness, waxing poetic about hyunjins beautiful face. idk probably more but im bad at this shit.

hwang hyunjin is beautiful. its a well documented fact, no ifs ands or buts about it. he has the kind of face ancient civilizations would have gone to war for. old world dynasties would have been reduced to rubble over a face like his. hwang hyunjin is the kind of beautiful where it almost hurts to look at him. it makes you question your belief in a higher power because, how could there possibly be any room for debate on if there is a God when there is simply no other reasonable explanation for how a devine creature like him came to exist on this earth? so with all that being said, there's no way he could get any more beautiful. or so you thought.

it had always been your assumption that there was no possible way he could look any more stunning than he naturally does; but your mind was changed the minute you saw the lithe expanses of his smooth milky skin held captive by blood red ropes. you felt an astounding amount of pride as your eyes bore witness to his soft flesh being pulled tight by the coarse material; the blood under his skin rushing to the surface where the ropes were knotted artfully over his collarbone, across his abdomen, splayed over his pelvis, looped around his upper thighs and finally circling the base of his dick. and you had worked hard to make sure the knots around his wrists and ankles were comfortable yet sturdy before attaching them to each bedpost.

you had taken your instructions very seriously, as the man giving them to you from edge of the bed, wouldn't allow any of this to continue if either of you were to disobey his direct orders, and dear god you would rather die than see this endeavor be cut short.

you admired your handiwork a bit more before the rumbling of a particular voice hit your ears.

“how do you feel baby? is this what you wanted? y/n did a good job huh? you look so pretty.” chan spoke softly to hyunjin, absentmindedly petting his head. hyunjin looked up at his leader and nodded, unsure if he could speak without whining as the ropes pulled across his body with every move.

“yeah i knew you'd like this. the whole time we were shooting “red lights” i saw you ya know? the way your breathing got shallow when the staff chained you up. the way your eyes glazed over when they gave you instructions to pull against your restraints. god, standing above you on that bed, watching you writhe below me was a sight to see. my good boy just wanted to be tied up and used huh?” chan said to him, his finger hooked under hyunjin's chin forcing his head up to look him in the eyes. a whimper forced its way out of him as his hips instinctually bucked and the the sensation of the ropes took over.

you couldn't drag your eyes away from his lower body. the sharp angle of his hipbones jutting up to the ceiling as his cock drooled uncontrollably, the fluid flowing from his tip dribbling down to darken the rope wrapped snugly around the base of him. without even thinking you reached out and wrapped your hand around his shaft, you were just so overwhelmed with the desire to touch him. the feeling was unexpected and the sound that punched its way out of hyunjin's chest was glorious. his body attempted to curl in on itself but the ropes kept him firmly in place. you watched the range of emotions flicker over his face in rapid succession; surprise at your initial touch, pleasure from finally being granted a little stimulation, sensitivity from being denied his pleasure for so long, shock when he remembered the restraints keeping him spread open, frustration at not being able to move, and finally acceptance as he gave in to the languid stroking you were doing. he continued to toss as the pleasure took over, thrashing wildly against the mattress and moaning into the pillow.

hyunjin's noises were reduced to whimpers as chan’s hand squeezed around his jaw, directing hyunjin to look him in the eyes. “shhh baby boy, y/n is gonna make you feel good okay? you'll let her do that, won’t you? you'll lay there and take what i let her give you, understood? words please, jinnie.” chan cooed. “yes daddy. i'll be good for you, for her too i promise. i'll be your perfect boy just like always, i promise, please! god just please keep touching me!” hyunjin choked out, making chan grin. he leapt up from where he was perched on the edge of the bed and rounded the corner until he was standing behind you. you repressed a shudder as chan’s hand slid up your back, tracing over your spine and occasionally tripping over the straps of the lingerie set you were wearing. his hand glided up into your hair with ease until his palm cradled the base of your skull, then suddenly he locked his fingers to grab your hair firmly by the roots and pulled you upright so your back was against his chest as he angled your head to the left exposing the expanse of your neck. the suddenness of his movements caused you to lose your grip on hyunjin’s dick and he cried out from the loss of contact, his hips frantically bucking into the air in a fruitless attempt to find friction.

chan hummed as his lips made contact with the skin of your neck and continued as he licked, nipped, and sucked at your flesh. he hooked his chin over your shoulder as his right hand charted a course down your abdomen to the apex of your thighs where the pads of his thick fingers rubbed over your damp slit. when you could finally manage to pry your lids open, you locked eyes with hyunjin. he was practically panting watching chan devour your throat and palm your pussy. “so pretty y/n, y’look so pretty. like a dream. want to paint you one day, just like that.” he whispered. hyunjin's words and gaze coupled with chan's wandering hands and skilled mouth were almost enough to send you over the edge.

“now here’s what's next my loves. y/n, you're going to get on your knees, lean down on your elbows and suck hyunjin's pretty dick right into the back of your throat okay? i want you to take him as far as you can, and quickly. do not stop until i tell you to. not if he begs, not if he cries, not if he screams. got it?” you nodded as well as you could with his left hand still in your hair. chan released you and you quickly got into the position he had described, gently grabbing hold of hyunjin's cock. “i’m sorry jinnie, but you know i have to.” you quipped right before you took him into your mouth and as far into your throat as you could manage. the garbled noise that ripped its way out of hyunjin's throat threw you into over drive as you bobbed your head and sucked him like your life depended on it. he was groaning deeply and his limbs were flailing the best they could in his current predicament. his back arched up off the mattress so beautifully you wished chan would take a photo.

“fuck, fuck, FUCK. jesus chri- oh my god! y/n, sweetheart slow down- PLEASE! oh fuck i can- i can feel- fucking fuck. i can feel your throat squeezing me so tight!” hyunjin wailed throwing his head back, the veins in his neck becoming more prominent as he grit his teeth.

suddenly chan’s hand made its way to your pussy again and you gasped around the thickness embedded in your throat causing hyunjin to hiss.

“crotchless panties angel? so proud of you. always so prepared for daddy huh? know just what i like.” chan muttered from behind you. you heard the telltale jingle of his belt being opened and the zipper being lowered on his jeans. he had already removed his shirt earlier so he was naked quickly, and he wasted no time before rubbing the head of his dick along your weeping folds.

“now i'm going to fuck you nice and deep the way you like and i want you to keep sucking my good boy okay?” chan said but before you could respond he shoved himself into you in one swift thrust. chan was not small in girth or length for that matter but the stretch you felt every time he fucked you open was delicious. you couldn't help but moan around the cock in your mouth which in turn caused hyunjin to scream at the unexpected vibration. chan’s laugh that followed was dark and proud, thrilled that he held so much power and that you both let him use it.

“fuuuuck sweet girl this cunt is always so fucking tight huh? doesn't matter how many times i fuck you or let someone else fuck you, you always snap right back. god i love being inside you.” chan growled as his hands gripped your hips and held you steady as he pummeled his way in and out of your slippery hole. the whole time he was fucking you, you were being forced onto hyunjin's cock as well, every moan muffled by the thickness battering your throat.

“hyunjin is y/n a good cocksucker? hmm? you think? you think she's better than you were?” chan taunted him as he drove himself inside you over and over again. “remember when we had our first one on one meeting? just me and you alone in the studio? i said 'hyunjin if you really are serious and want to stay in this group i need one thing from you’ do you remember that? i do.” you could hear the grin in his voice even if you couldn't see him. hyunjin groaned and mumbled what sounded like a yes. “i also remember how fast you sank to your knees and scrambled to try and open my belt. you thought i wanted you to suck me off to stay in the band. and you were so willing to give me whatever i wanted. all i was going to ask you for was your loyalty and your honesty in all things. but you offered up that pretty mouth quick as a bitch and who was i to say no?” chan laughed at the memory as he threw a foot up onto the bed to change the angle he was fucking into you from so he was now nailing your gspot on every thrust.

“y-yes i remember. ‘course i do. i knew w-what you were gonna ask me because felix told me beforehand what you were going to ask, what you asked a-all of them. i just- fuck yes keep sucking y/n im so close. i jus’ wanted you so bad i thought if i tried and y-you didn't want me back it would just be an easily brushed off m-misunderstanding.” hyunjin whined, his hands balled up into fists, knuckles white.

“y/n suck him dry. now.” chan ordered and you sucked harder pulling a squeal out of hyunjin. “go on sweet boy. go ahead and cum. you earned it.” chan encouraged as he delivered a heavy smack to your ass. your muffled yelp was the final straw and hyunjin came hard into your mouth, his body attempting to lurch off the bed. you swallowed everything down and pulled off of him, replacing your mouth with your hand. as chan continued to ram into you, you mirrored his thrusts with the fist wrapped tightly around hyunjin's still hard cock.

“stop stop stop please! god please i can- i can't take it! it's too sensitive please!” hyunjin cried. “yes you can baby. you can take it. trust me.” chan cooed. feeling bold you leaned forward once again and sucked hyunjin's tip harshly while lashing the tip of your tongue over his slit.

“FUCK! no no no no it's too m- too much. stop stop stop!” hyunjin continued to wail. he was begging you to relent but he also didn't use his safeword so you knew he didnt really want it to stop. the sound was like music to chan's ears and the rhythmic clenching of your cunt around him propelled him quickly toward his own orgasm.

“i'm gonna cum in you okay baby? gonna breed this pretty pussy, stuff it full of my cum. that what you want? yeah it is isn't it?” chan rambled and you moaned out a “yes please daddy” right before he exploded inside you. your hand around hyunjin never stopped moving and he was crying now. big fat tears rolling down his cheeks from the overstimulation.

chan pulled out of you and watched your hole flutter, pushing out his seed. he murmured a string of praises as he watched the glistening fluid drip out of you. you looked over your shoulder at him, jutting your lower lip out.

“daddy i didn't get to cum yet. can i?” you asked.

“go ahead baby. make yourself cum.” chan said with a wave of his hand and an evil grin etched on his face. you grinned right back before scrambling up hyunjin's body and straddling him.

“wh-what are you doing? oh...oh no. no no no. please it's so sensitive it's so so sensitive y/n i can't!” hyunjin hiccuped, tears still flowing. you leaned forward and ran your tongue up his cheek, lapping up the briny liquid seeping from his eyes. then you whispered “oh jinnie, don't you want me to feel good too? i worked so hard after all.” you reached behind you and positioned his tip at your entrance before effortlessly sliding down onto him. you moaned as he filled you and he once again thrashed against the ropes wrapped around him. you started to ride him in earnest, aching for your own release at this point. the man beneath you was mumbling incoherently about how good your pussy feels and how badly he wants to come again. chan sauntered over and perched next to hyunjin again, reaching out to pet his head and pepper his face with kisses.

“i’m gonna cum, fuck i'm gonna cum!” you cried as you worked yourself over hyunjin’s dick and used one hand to furiously rub your clit.

“daddy shes squeezing me so hard i don't think i ca- can get out. can i cum inside?” hyunjin pleaded with chan. “of course you can baby, right sweetheart? you want jinnie’s cum inside you don't you?” you just nodded in response. “my girl loves to be creampied you never have to ask. just go ahead baby boy.” chan explained. you drove yourself down onto hyunjin twice more and then you were cumming, mouth dropping open as your inner walls milked him for all he was worth. hyunjin spasmed beneath you as he came and came and came inside you. he wasn't speaking anymore, just making these stunted little sounds as his body shook with the aftershocks of his second orgasm.

chan had begun to untie the ropes as you slowly lifted yourself off of hyunjin. you whispered praise to him as he has hummed, completely fucked out and boneless beneath you.

“shhh it's okay sweetheart. you did so good for us baby. we’re gonna put you to bed now okay?” chan murmured to the man shaking in the bed. hyunjin managed to croak out an “uh-huh” in response. you grabbed a bottle of lotion from nearby and began to work it into the reddened skin all over him where the ropes had been, while chan wiped down hyunjin's groin with a warm cloth. you hummed a tune you knew hyunjin loved and his eyes fluttered shut, a tiny smile making its way to his face.

after everything was put away and the room was right again, chan crawled into the bed to spoon hyunjin’s half asleep form while you crawled in the other side to press yourself to hyunjin's still somewhat heaving chest. you pulled the blanket up high and tucked yourself into his warm skin and he wound an arm around your waist. chan's hand rested on hyunjin's hip, squeezing the flesh there every so often.

being here felt so right, so natural, so easy. loving these two was as easy as breathing. you couldn't believe it had taken this long to get here but now that you had, you weren't letting them go. before your eyes fell closed you heard the sound of chan's lips kissing along hyunjin's shoulder before he whispered “rest now my loves. because i have big plans for you tomorrow.”

THE END

741 notes · View notes

forlix · 7 months

Text

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀・792 / 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴・felix x gn!reader / 𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲(𝘀)・fluff, established relationship, lots of kissing (again), a lil suggestive towards the end, inspired by his pictures from paris, which i am just. SOOOOOO normal about

“Careful, my love,” Felix murmurs, his huff of laughter tickling the side of your neck when he loops a wary arm around your waist. You first feel your weight lifting off the metal railing of the double-decker bus, then the taut warmth of your boyfriend’s chest as you’re pulled against it.

When you lift your eyes to look at Felix, you have to squint against the sun—or maybe it’s him that’s making it so hard to see, wisps of blonde hair framing his face like freshly spun gold, flawless features illuminated so gloriously that he looks like an exhibit in the Louvre come alive.

“What was that for?” You ask with a furrowed brow, and Felix doesn’t reply right away, suddenly captivated by your newfound proximity.

His gaze darts to your lips; the rest of him follows. You perceive a delicate finger under your chin, a deliberate angle of his head, a tensing of his hand where it slides over your hip. And then he’s kissing you, so sweetly that you’re reminded of whipped cream, his mouth melting your pout to a defenseless smile.

“You looked like—you were gonna—drop your phone.” These words are woven between three last pecks, the first placed to your lips, the second and third to each of your cheeks. Then Felix pulls away, only far enough for you to spot the teasing smile on his face. “Or fall off the bus. Neither outcome would’ve been ideal.”

“Did I really?” You giggle. “I didn’t even notice.”

“Yes. Or, I think so. I can’t remember anymore.” The tip of his nose bumps against yours lightly, affectionately, and you think your knees would’ve given at his next words if you weren’t literally wrapped in his arms. “God, you’re fucking beautiful.”

As you lift a hand to trace the contours of his jaw, to bring your fingers around the curve of his nape, you’re beginning to think they had a point, dubbing Paris the City of Love. You swear that his eyes have never been browner; that his freckles have never been so numerous; that you’ve never been as utterly and hopelessly beguiled with Lee Felix as you are right here, right now.

An idea surfaces—suddenly, surely. “Let me take pictures of you.”

A surprised chuckle rises to his throat. “Why?”

“Just trust me, baby.” And he does, with everything in him.

You untangle yourself from his embrace and settle into a seat on the other side of the bus. The next minutes are spent with him adopting various poses and postures before your lens, your fingers toying with the different lighting and focus settings as you attempt to capture him within the world of your screen—ironic, considering he’s a world in himself. The only one that matters; the only one that ever will.

When you’re finally finished, Felix is already motioning for you to return to his side, not wanting you out of his reach for a second longer than you absolutely need to be. You settle in Felix’s lap once you’re close enough—your legs hanging off the side of his seat, your temple leaning against his forehead—and the way his arms circle so readily and securely around your stomach feels like a cushioned fall.

“Tell me now?” He hums, planting a soft kiss to your cheek.

You heartbeat is in your ears as you start to flip through your camera roll. The pictures are perfect. He’s perfect. The princely man in the foreground of each puts even the stunning Parisian weather to shame.

“I wanted you to see yourself the way I do,” you whisper. “And only then would you really understand the meaning of that word, in its purest and brightest form.”

Felix feels his eyes widen; his breath catch in his throat. You hear the scratch of his interrupted inhale, and you're almost nervous when you turn to meet his eyes, despite your love feeling like it’s spanned lifetimes by now. And you know by his darkened gaze and flushed cheeks that he knows just which word you’re referring to.

Then, Felix closes the distance between the two of you again, but this kiss is completely devoid of the last one’s gentleness, open-mouthed, positively scalding, and intensely loving. Your lips sting a bit where his crash; your scalp tingles where he rakes a hand through your hair; your back shivers where the vibrations of his voice travel, his words nearly growled against your mouth.

“I love you,” he breathes.

Your palm comes to rest upon his chest, and the way his every heartbeat moulds to your touch is nothing short of classical.

“I love you more, beautiful.”

𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 (open): @astraystayyh @like-a-diamondinthesky @fire-08

𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other writing here. thanks so much for the support ♡

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lokisgoodgirl · 8 months

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Slower [Loki x f.Reader]

A Link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: Loki strips it all off. Slowly. (w/c 1.9k) Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Smuttish. Language. Established relationship. A/N: Some lines taken from my drabble New Lingerie

You sat perched on the edge of Loki’s bed, poised as the heavy footsteps grew closer. Each leathered thud ricocheted around the high hallway ceiling.

He was coming. Coming to you. Coming for you.

And he was almost here.

Your back straightened, feeling the cut of the corset tight to your chest. Fingers widened against the cotton sheets, material melting into every ridge. The main apartment door flew open somewhere beyond, slamming shut immediately.

Just a few more steps. Thud. The thunder in your chest was deafening. Your body a pulsing, adrenaline-soaked vessel dripping and trembling with unspent desire.

The doorknob turned. And in a moment of eerie quiet, the door swung open. Slowly. Loki-the-Warrior filled the frame. The silhouette of his huge body against the hallway light, haloed against the inconsequential outside world.

He was a heaving, smouldering, mission-soaked mass.

Narrowed eyes peered up beneath thick brows, the alignment of his nose and lips and chin to his chest making arousal seep deeper into your flimsy gusset.

Loose hair fell in waves around his shoulders, the cape settling in swinging folds by his calves. He had been expecting you, it seemed. You swallowed, watching the twitch of his lip curl into a solitary, mirthless dimple.

"What in the Nine...are you wearing?" he snarled. Embers of the fresh fight pulsed in his glare as he paused. It hit it like a punch.

Loki's forearm propped on the doorframe. A cool draft tickled your skin. You hadn’t realised how warm it was in here.

"Do you like it?" you purred nervously, uncrossing and re-crossing your legs. The silk chiffon of your stockings slid together as Loki’s lips pursed. He tilted his head, throat working.

You could see cogs turning as he ran his eyes over the boned corset clinging to your body, over the lines of your suspender belt strapped tight to supple flesh.

A finger ran lightly down your thigh, slipping one beneath a string. “It’s called lingerie,” you said, inspecting before releasing the suspender with a snap. His eyebrows rose, a low chuckle forming before he shook his head.

"Never before have I seen you so,” he paused with mild disdain, running the icy stare to the tips of your toes back to your face, “hidden... on my return.”

The velvet voice was tinged with suspicion as he flicked a hand by his side, making the leather cape swing as he paced slowly toward you. Each stride, measured. “Although I shall admit, it... stirs something deep within me.”

He came to stop at eye level, his stomach inches from your parted lips.

Loki’s voice was heavy, thick with the day’s trials and the beating drum of his baser needs which demanded attention as they always did. "Was that your plot?” he smouldered, “to stir something within me, little fox?"

The god’s cock was hardening visibly beneath his trousers as he spoke, creases forming as the ancient material relented to the power beneath. It grew upward against his hip, shameless and ready. He was always ready.

"It's crotchless?" you offered meekly, fastening your lips to the bulge in front of you. You sucked the leather, making your god release a guttural growl. The heat from your breath misted, wetness forming. A shallow groan floated down as his knees buckled. Just a bit. "Midgardians..." he murmured incredulously, his fingers smoothing the back of your head, pressing your closer. "Mmm, whatever will you think of next?" His hands moved down the curve of your neck, cupping your shoulders before pushing you back from his crotch.

You looked up into his darkened eyes, every inch his willing whore. Loki let out a sigh as his fingertips trailed lazily over the swell of your cleavage, eyes following every small indentation they made. He grunted, hips squeezing forwards as if fighting himself.

“And what is the male equivalent in this realm for this type of garment?” he purred, sentimentality returning to his voice as his walls lowered. "Surely there must be one." You uncrossed your legs, widening your thighs and pulled his tunic closer. Craning up at this angle you could see the faintly smeared signs of battle coating his throat. Thin trails of clean skin through dried sweat down the hard vein of his neck. “Some say suits,” you husked. “But I say... leather.” Loki’s breath hitched, choking back a laugh. “You cannot possibly feel the way that I do at this present time whenever you see me in this,” he stuttered, gesturing weakly to himself.

He was staring at your tits, his twitching, pulsing cock pressed against your cleavage. Each desperate rock of his hips made the leather rustle lightly.

Your hands began to run up the back of his thighs beneath the cape. The visceral heat of his skin through the leather made you shudder. Mess slid between your spread thighs against flimsy panties, clenching air as your fingers mapped every curve of his muscles until they met the curve of his ass. The hiss from his gritted teeth as you squeezed, pressing his cock tighter to your chest, was unbearable. “I can,” you panted, “and I do.” Loki let out a strained chuckle. “Oh darling, how awful of me to unknowingly torture you so,” he teased wickedly, spreading his feet wider on the floor. The clunk of his heavy boots was ceremonial. You laughed softly. “You know how incredible you look in your armour. In everything, actually. And nothing.” You looked up at him, feeling unexpected heat creep into your cheeks. “You know it. And I know you know it.” “Well, yes. Quite,” he postured with a smirk before his lips hardened. His eyes suddenly glazed. “But to think of you... a quivering wreck of desire at my mere presence wearing such basic uniform is,” he paused, breaths quick; “arousing in the extreme.” “Nothing about you is basic,” you smiled, squeezing his ass before searching kisses worked over the surface of his tunic. He moaned, as rich and luxe as the sheets beneath your thighs. His ass, the flat of his midriff, it was all so fucking hard. All of him. Loki’s cock twitched. Your nails scratched against the material, pulling him closer. The solid impossibility of him being so close would never be enough. “What do you think of? When you see me in-” He gasped as your teeth grazing against the thick of his shaft through the leather, “-public...in, in this” he finished, one thigh beginning to tremble. You rested your chin on his length, pressing hard as you looked up. “I imagine touching myself,” you enunciated slowly, “it’s all I can do not to do it right there,” You out a soft, calculated moan. Loki released the breath he’d been holding in a short puff, possessive desire burning deep in his eyes as he stared into yours. “And, I imagine you stripping it off,” you continued with a wink.

The god pressed his lips together, a quaking sigh rolling in his throat. That can be arranged, he was about to say. “Slowly, though -” you quipped, quickly leaning back on your elbows against the mattress. Loki frowned. “No magic?”

You shook your head playfully, biting your lip. “And then we make love, yes?” he said, suspicion returning as he took a step back. You nodded, fighting to contain a gleeful smile.

Long, eager fingers flew beneath his left shoulder, tearing at the buckle fastenings beneath.

“Uh-uh,” you chided, drawing your soles over the duvet spread. You widened your legs, letting them fall open. “Slowly, please” you repeated, drawing a lazy finger up the length of your thigh. “Give me a show, Loki of Asgard.” The sultriness of your voice surprised even you as a sigh racked your lover’s torso. There was a beat of resignation, before his shoulders adopted a mouth-watering ceremonial snap. Slowly this time, he reached for the buckle attaching the length of leather cape to his shoulder guard. The soft clunk of metal releasing made you clench. Loki watched the fine leather draping fall away from his shoulder, the angle of his jaw flashing in the low light. Beneath a fan of ebony lashes, he lifted his gaze to you before reaching to the other buckle. Your breath hitched as another beautiful clunk pierced the air like a penny on glass. The mechanism released, the fabric sliding seductively down his arm. The ancient Asgardian leather pooled in a semi-circle by his feet. Silk lining shone invitingly in shadow. “Slow enough for you, my love?” he purred. You nodded, not breaking eye contact as he made a show of pulling each settle of leather from his fingers. The knuckleguards peeled from his skin, falling soundlessly by his feet. “Truly,” he started casually while dexterous digits began to unlace unseen binds on the left side of his torso, “Asgardian tanner workmanship is the finest in all the realms.” The whizz of leather on leather buzzed as a lace was pulled beneath one long finger, loosening the tunic. “I do not appreciate it as much as I should, perhaps.” “I agree,” you murmured seductively, fighting the urge to launch yourself from the bed and fasten to his body like wet paper on a wall. He reached behind his head, tugging the leather vest. It slipped over, before he tossed it to the floor. Loki spread his arms, spinning in a teasing circle. His hair was mussed now, gorgeous tendrils fighting against each other for glory within an onyx crown. With unbearable precision, dancing fingers dislodged the armour from his wrists. They dropped to the floor in quick succession. The god lowered his chin, deep eyes penetrating your soul as he slid two fingers beneath the folds of deep green leather. The arms carried the traditional ceremonial markings of his station, of his power. But what lay beneath the chestplate now resting on the floor was more valuable. More poetic. Despite never being on full show, the body of the under-tunic was a work of art. Each stitch crafted by ancient fingertips in faraway lands, embroidered and infused with spells and primordial rites befitting their ultimate adornment. Him. A sliver of alabaster skin appeared, the valley of sculpted chest muscle you ran your tongue over before you rode him almost every night flashing into view. Each golden button fell away beneath that graceful touch. Another, and another, slowly to the bottom hem. Until only one remained.

Loki toyed with it, running his thumb along the curve which hung just above his naval. You groaned, gripping the bedsheets in a fist. “Whatever is the matter, love?” he teased. “You requested slow, so slow...I shall be.” His eyebrows rose expectantly, daring a response. You couldn’t muster one, as the final button popped between his fingers.

With aching precision, Loki shrugged the leather tunic from his shoulders with a sluttish roll. The tight jacket caught on the curve of his biceps, edging down before dropping to the floor with a thick thump. You moaned again, feeling your resolve weaken. Loki was looking to the floor, hair hanging by his cheekbones. It spread to candlelight-glossed shoulders as he lifted his face, the marble perfection of that bone-structure making you tremble on his bed like a virgin. You would never get used to seeing him undressed. But half-dressed? Somehow, that was even more deadly. His abdominals clenched with each breath, the sharp lines of his obliques cutting and receding. Was he holding back, the way that you were? He was enjoying this, that much was certain. Loki’s manhood still stretched up to his hip, fat and desperate for your touch. You licked your lips, biting gently. The god cocked his head. “Taking off one’s shoes is never an attractive endeavour,” he stated sheepishly, widening his legs. The thick v of his hip muscles flexed. Making use of the pause, you scooted to the side; extending your legs and popping a hand leisurely beneath your head. “Well, how else are you gonna get those tight trousers off, Laufeyson?” you teased. Loki squinted, pursing his lips. “No magic?” he grumbled. “No magic,” you confirmed. Without missing a beat, Loki bunched a scarce inch of leather by his outer thigh in a vice. With a thundering rip, he pulled the ancient leather from his body. The trousers split like tissue paper, cast to the side where they skated theatrically across the floor before scraping to a stop. You stared at them, open-mouthed before sliding back to his waiting smirk.

He gave a small nod of self-satisfied acknowledgement.

A smile stretched across your face, reaching your eyes as his did the same. He gave a light shrug as his fingers wrapped around the base of his cock, tugging gently while he stared into your eyes.

“And the boots?” you whispered, voice catching. “Oh no, darling” Loki murmured, his voice thick and heavy with lust. He began to stride the final steps towards you.

“Tonight, the boots stay on.”

Tags (cont in comments)

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willowser · 16 days

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ᴅᴏᴡɴ ᴏɴ ᴀʟʟ ғᴏᴜʀs. werewolf kiri au.

you wake up under a mountain of furs.

light comes flickering from the hearth and, warm and welcoming as it is—you've no idea where you are.

you don't recognize the inside of the cabin; it's certainly not yours, nor is its layout that of any you’ve seen in the village. it's rather plain, with a singular window and table and chair and small fireplace, empty enough that you wonder how anyone could live comfortably with so little.

outside, the winter storm rages on, and there's a howl that cuts through the air that strikes bone-deep.

all at once your memories come back to you: dragged through town with bound hands and ankles, in only a thin night dress, screaming with all your might as the physician that delivered you into this world tied you to an old pine, along with the priest and the man that sold you blueberries in the spring.

people you knew and loved. had trusted.

the memories become hazy after a while, darkening with the night that crept in. you remember your body losing its feeling, but not its fear. you remember the violence of the storm, breaking trees and branches and uprooting the forest floor. you remember the horrible and hulking shape of something rising in the moonlight.

the door shoves open then, with enough force to send you scurrying back into the corner of the room. the blizzard tries to rush inside, but a man stands in its way, leaning back against the wood to keep the wind and snow out where it belongs. he's—big, as tall as the frame and just as wide, with thick hair that he's tied back, messy and low.

he's rosy in his cheeks and on the tip of his nose, as bright as the eyes that snap to you the moment you dare to breathe.

he doesn't say anything, at first. the bag of firewood he sets at his feet settles as he turns to you in interest, eyebrows raised. the clothes he's wearing look—old and worn, certainly not suitable for the storm roaring outside, with the holes and tears in the fabric. the boots he has on, however, seem heavy, have his steps echoing when he moves further into the room.

you pull your knees up to your chest and try to shrink away; beneath your thin dress, your skin has pebbled up, reminding you of just how vulnerable you still are.

your fear translates; the man stops on the other side of the little table, breathing in deeply before raising his hands up in what reads as surrender.

"hello," he finally says, and when you don't respond, he places a thick hand to his dark-haired chest and introduces himself as, "eijirou."

he nods emphatically and then repeats himself, as if to reinforce the name. you only grant him a small nod in return—and he smiles. it's wide, stretching across his face, and friendly, authentic enough that you question whether you're as damned as you thought, or perhaps saved.

how did you even get here? the question finally thaws out from the recesses of your brain and you take another look around the room as if the answer lies between the wood or nestled into the furs. this place looks too hand-crafted, you realize, all of it—and the man before you looks like he could move mountains, if he wanted to.

the chains that had bound you were iron-strong and didn't once budge in all your thrashing, before things went dark—but now you are inside by a well-maintained fire, warm and free, and all that remains of your ill fate are the indentions worn into your wrists.

he's still staring at you, the man. eijirou. he's not moved any closer, either, and when you meet his curious gaze, his lips twist and his eyes narrow. a thoughtful noise comes out of his mouth, like he's thinking of what to say or how to say it, and you're reminded that you don't recognize where you are, nor do you recognize him in the slightest.

big as he is, you don't think he could have carried you too far in a snowstorm such as the one still raging outside; are you still somewhere deep in the forest? in a cabin at the heart of the wood? saved by a man that somehow survives with so little out in the middle of nowhere?

"eijirou," you test the name on your lips and he perks up at the sound, attention snapping back to you instantly. you don't know if it's winter seeping through the floor, or if it's in the way that he watches you, that makes you shiver.

finally, he asks, "cold?" and when you nod, he slowly makes his way over to you, carefully, as if approaching a deer ready to run.

—and then he sheds his shirt with a quick shrug and holds it out to you.

you should want to look away, for decency sake, but you're—stunned by it, by him. there's a litany of scars that paint him in odd and worrisome places, but he stands tall and strong before you, unbothered by his own state. unbothered by the eyes that run over the expanse of his bare shoulders, the dark, thick trail of hair running down from his belly button, the ripples of muscle his loose shirt did well to hide.

you take it from him carefully and it's so warm, almost hot, that you press it to your face immediately to chase away the chatter of your jaw. the material itself, however ragged, is big enough to drape over your curled form like a blanket, and so you do just that. it carries the earthy smell of the woods, deeply woven into the fabric; pine and musk and something smoky.

with your cheek still pressed to his shirt, you look up to thank him, at last, but the words still in your throat at the minute changes of his face: still smiling, though sharper now, somehow, and his eyes are still wide with that keen, rapt interest—but the crimson to them has set like the sun and they've grown just as dark as the night outside.

#i wrote this like a madman pls excuse the first draft quality hehe #PLEASEEEE he's so akfhahfkah isn't socialized LOL #doesn't talk to anyone really 🥺has no reason to 🥺#he's new to all this 🥺#doesn't mean to put you in his lil nest and cover you in the smell of him 👀#okay well he DOES but he didn't know it would AFFECT HIM THAT WAY PLEASE #ugh this has been living in my head for so long i'll write more of this when it isn't 1 am LOL #✿ thoughts: kirishima #✿ willow writes #song is wolf like me by tv on the radio !!!

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hayatheauthor · 1 year

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How To Accurately Describe Pain In Writing

Pain can be an interesting emotion to write about. It gives authors the liberty to merge their character’s emotions and surroundings to create beautiful metaphors and graphic descriptions that draw their readers in and convey their character’s struggles. However, if done wrongly reading your descriptions of pain can feel like a chore to your readers. Unsure how to accurately describe pain in your writing? Here are some tips to help you get started.

Use The Five Senses

As humans, we possess five senses that dictate our reactions to the world around us. When writing, it is important to use these five senses rather than just relying on what your character can see. Talk about the sound, the smell, the taste, and even the feeling.

If your character just got burnt, talk about the sound of sizzling flesh and the slight numbness they feel. Mention the terrible smell of burnt flesh, and make your character feel dizzy with fear as their eyes finally land on the horrific wound.

Internal bleeding makes people spit blood and taste iron and partially healed wounds feel itchy and irritant.

There is so much more to pain than what you see, and simply talking about your character’s wounds isn’t nearly enough to make your readers wince in second-hand pain. In fact, they are more likely to skim your passages in boredom.

Show your readers what your character is experiencing, and then go on to describe their reaction to this situation.

Build It Up, Then Break It Down

Pain doesn’t just suddenly come from nowhere. It starts with something small, blossoms, and then spreads. Your character won’t just suddenly get a third-degree burn the size of a baseball by leaning against a hot steel wall for the briefest of seconds. It starts with a light reddish-brown mark, then darkens, maybe even blisters.

You can’t go from 0 to 100 in one sentence. You need to build it up and show your readers how your character’s pain was found. Then, break it down.

Pain doesn’t come from nowhere, but it doesn’t suddenly disappear either. Show us how your character’s wound heals. Does the wound mark from where they hurt their knee turn into an ugly brown shade for a couple of weeks? Do their burns gradually fade from red to pink, or turn darker?

It’s important to show your readers the aftermath of your character’s pain. A character who just had a bullet pulled out of their shoulder with a hot knife can’t suddenly just jump up and start firing at the enemy with perfect aim.

You don’t need to overdo it and constantly mention their wounds during the healing stage, but something as simple as ‘her bandages uncomfortably scratched at her back every time she lifted her hand to eat’ or ‘his fingers subconsciously shifted to run over the remains of his burn mark even as his eyes remained trained on the blackboard’ will suffice.

How Does This Affect Your Character?

Physical pain aside, wounds can also have an effect on your character’s dynamics with others as well as your plot.

It’s important to take into account how they got this wound, how the other characters might react to it, and internalised conflict caused by it. Maybe your character injured their fingers during a game of volleyball and now they’re staring at their final exam paper with tears of frustration brimming their waterline because it hurts too much to write.

Maybe your protagonist suffered a small burn while sneaking out to go to their friend’s house and their parent or mentor saw it. Or maybe your protagonist won against the antagonist but suffered a grave injury to their legs and now cannot fight during the next confrontation, resulting in a chaotic outbreak at their headquarters.

Think about the internal as well as the external damage your character’s wounds can cause, and then use that as a plot device to further your book.

Do Your Research

It’s very important to accurately portray your character’s level of pain and consider whether or not they would realistically incur such injuries from such a wound. When writing about a character’s wound or pain consider doing some research about that type of wound.

Here are some things you need to check when researching the wound type:

How much blood would they loose with this type of wound?

What are the side effects?

Could this be fatal?

How long will it take to heal?

How long does it take for a wound to get to that extent? (for example, if you’re writing about a third-degree burn, research what it takes for a burn to be considered third-degree).

What are the major veins, arteries, and other important body parts in that part of the character’s body? For example, if your character is supposed to be injured on their arm but it’s not supposed to be serious, you need to consider whether the wound could realistically have ruptured their radial artery, resulting in death.

Will there be any scarring? What about any long-lasting wound marks?

You could also take a look at historical events similar to the one you’re writing. For example, if you’re writing about an assassination attempt consider researching the most historically renowned assassination techniques.

It’s also a good idea to ask your families and friends about their experiences with the type of wound you’re writing about (so long as it’s not a sensitive topic). Maybe you have a cousin who suffered a third-degree burn once or a classmate who has a scar from a graphic wound across their arm.

I hope this blog on how to accurately describe pain in writing will help you in your writing journey. Be sure to comment any tips of your own to help your fellow authors prosper, and follow my blog for new blog updates every Monday and Thursday.

Looking For More Writing Tips And Tricks?

Are you an author looking for writing tips and tricks to better your manuscript? Or do you want to learn about how to get a literary agent, get published and properly market your book? Consider checking out the rest of Haya’s book blog where I post writing and marketing tools for authors every Monday and Thursday.

Want to learn more about me and my writing journey? Visit my social media pages under the handle @hayatheauthor where I post content about my WIP The Traitor’s Throne and life as a teenage author.

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catboyieejeno · 1 year

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make a mess for me -> jung jaehyun (m)

contents: jaehyun x female! reader, smut without plot, no relationship established, riding his abs, pet names, dirty talk (?) wc: 1k

masterlist

18+ minors do not interact !

every sound, sight, and touch is absolutely electrifying. your senses are all heightened, soaking in the details around you and storing them for memory; the dim light in the room that makes your vision foggy, your lips wetly smacking on one another's, breathing each other's air... in this moment, it feels as though the world has completely stopped spinning—just for the two of you.

your head tilts back, body helplessly grinding down to meet his in search of friction. even with the obstruction of his underwear and joggers, you can feel the outline of his entire length sliding up and down your core. his tip presses so wonderfully into your clit each time he rocks his hips, growing harder and harder beneath you.

when you try to speed up your movements, jaehyun tightens his grip on your waist, calming your eagerness—he intends to edge you for as long as he can, until you're squirming above him.

"please, jae-" your high-pitched whine is cut off by his kiss, lips swollen and puffy and pressing against yours with so much fervor.

despite the fact that you're completely naked, sat on his lap and exposed for him to see, jaehyun remains fully dressed. with a pout on your lips, you reach under his shirt and jaehyun leans back so that you can discard it for him easily.

as your eyes dance over his bare torso in awe, the pad of your finger lightly traces each indentation of his muscles, "you're so pretty," you praise, looking at his skin distractedly.

although he appreciates your compliment, he's quick to redirect your attention. jaehyun bucks his hips up, pressing himself directly against your arousal. when you gasp, his lip curls up into a satisfied smirk, hands sliding up to cup your breasts.

"damn, you're so wet,"

you glance down between your legs at the spot where your groins meet, finding that a round, wet stain has darkened the gray material of his pants—a mix of your arousal and his precum. instinctively, your bottom lip tucks into your teeth, and you hiss as he rolls his hips into you again, making the wetness spread more. even then, your hands stay on his stomach, greedily caressing him.

upon noticing your fixation, jaehyun searches for your gaze, "baby?"

you hum in response, looking up to meet his glossed over eyes.

"what're you doing?"

"i wanna try something," you mumble shyly.

he snickers, leaning in to kiss your neck and whisper into it, "what's that, baby?"

"can i-" your voice is breathy and shaky, wavering with nerves, "-can i ride your abs? please?"

for a second, he goes absolutely quiet, leaning back to look at your face again. your cheeks are glowing red in embarrassment, and you're about to take it back when his tongue darts out to wet his lips, eyes watching you through half-lids.

"shit. that's so hot. and you asked so nicely, sweetheart. of course, we can try that." suddenly, he forgets entirely about his plan to edge you, settling contently for being the one who is edged.

he can watch you fall apart above him while he's unable to touch himself? the idea is mouth-watering.

ardently, he lies back with both hands on your ass, guiding you forward so that you hover over his abdomen, flexed and covered with the sheerest layer of sweat.

"i love having you on display like this. fuck, baby, come on," he tugs you down, eager to watch you crumble. hesitantly, you slide against him once, shuddering as your clit makes contact with every ridge and muscle. his breath hitches, watching you with his jaw gone slack.

as if testing the waters, you repeat your actions, letting out the smallest cry of pleasure. jaehyun tries to let you go at your pace and set your own rhythm, especially since this is something you want to try. usually, you let him explore his impulses without protest, so it's only fair that he should do the same for you.

but by the fifth time you rub against him, pretty pussy leaving a glistening wet trail on his skin only to lift back up again, he decides he's had enough.

"you're killing me," he groans. in one smooth gesture, he grabs your forearms and tugs you down to press you flush against him. you let out a moan, obediently moving as you understand that's what he wants.

and god, does it feel so indescribably good, every curb hitting exactly where it needs to. you wanted to watch him beneath you, look into his eyes as you came on top of him, but your eyes are screwed shut instead, and the only thought in your head is why haven't i done this before?

your brow furrows as you pick up speed, sighing out with desperation. jaehyun gazes at you intently, "how does it feel?"

"oh, god, jaehyun. it feels really fucking good."

"keep going, baby. go faster, make a mess for me," he slides hands down your arms until he's linking his fingers with yours, keeping you steady above him as you oblige, grinding your self on him.

the sight of you like this is so obscene and dirty that his dick twitches in his pants; it's begging to be touched, to be sucked in by your tight cunt, but he's enjoying the show you're putting on for him a bit too much to rush you any more than he already has. when he feels you start pulsing against him, his tongue presses into his cheek.

"i'm so close-"

"i feel it baby, i feel you against me. be a good girl and come for me."

in that moment, jaehyun flexes, and you immediately moan out his name, the bliss between your legs so intense that you swear you can see an entire galaxy of stars behind your eyelids. he drops your hands onto his chest where you hold yourself up.

jaehyun grips your thighs and hips like putty, hard enough to leave a bruise. he rocks you, urging you to keep moving until you're so overstimulated that your juices are dripping on either side of him, coating your thighs and wetting the sheets.

"fuck, fuck." you whimper.

your entire being is trembling as you come down, but the boy beneath you gives you no time to recover. his arms wrap around your waist as he flips you over, warm tongue attaching itself to your skin, swiping along the expanse of your collar bones and chest.

"baby, look at what you did to me," he grunts out.

with one hand spreading your legs, the other toying with your nipple, jaehyun presses himself up against you, rutting into your sensitive core and letting you feel just how turned on your little idea made him.

ੈ♡.*·

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starrierknight · 6 months

Text

𝟎𝟑𝟎. 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐫𝐲

You did his eyeliner and one thing led to another. Who can blame you, though? He had it coming (pun intended).

MASTERLIST | KINKTOBER 23' | AO3

wc— 3.5k

pairing— soft dom!gn!reader x sub!getou

cw/tags— mirror sex, mommy kink (only by name, reader is otherwise gn), S&M, ruined makeup, dacryphilia, handjob, edging, orgasm delay/control, praise, humiliation, restraints (belt), dry humping/frottage, porn with feelings, plot what plot, petnames (pretty/sweet boy/thing), aftercare

The world was dark; the lights were low, and Suguru was where he should be—at your mercy.

You were straddling his lap, your fingers gently cradling his face while your other hand intricately applied dark eyeliner to his eyes. He reclined against the headboard of the bed that the two of you shared.

“All done,” you smiled, tossing the eyeliner pen elsewhere. You brushed a thumb over his cheekbone, admiring your work, as his inky black eyes fluttered open.

His eyes were framed with luscious, dark eyelashes. They're like midnight and seemed to swirl like pools of ink; The subtle swirls within them add an element of dynamism, as if they hold secrets waiting to be discovered. They have a hypnotic quality to them, as if luring you to come closer and drown, tempting you to see just how deeply you'll sink, how far you'll fall into their depths.

“How do I look?” he asked lightly, enjoying the way you drank in his appearance like this.

“Gorgeous.”

His silky hair was undone, cascading down his shoulders and a tad messy where you’d held it previously to keep his head still. Suguru (to most people) was all severe edges, all strength and hard stares; But for you, he was weak.

“Yeah?”

Responding with a soft and affirmative hum, your unoccupied hand glided along the surface of his T-shirt's lightweight cotton sleeve. A knowing smile played on your lips as you noticed the subtle tensing of his muscles beneath your touch. Suguru raised an eyebrow in response, intentionally tracing his lower lip with the tip of his tongue. Oh, he knew what he was doing—it was safe to say that you both had each other figured out.

His hand, which had initially been placed on your lower back, sinuously moved to grasp your thigh. In the subdued light, he gazed at you, the shadows lending a glint to his eyelashes. Inclining his head slightly, he swept the tip of his index finger along the edge of your mouth.

He gracefully shifted away, putting on an act of feigning unawareness to the searing intensity of your stare fixed upon him. He flashed you a lopsided smile, bringing his forefinger and thumb together.

“Glitter.”

Despite Suguru's move away from you, the proximity was still compromising. He returned his attention to your face, noticing your eyes had darkened from your interaction, your jaw clenched. Blowing the speck of iridescence from his thumb, he shut his eyes, making a wish. He raised his gaze leisurely to meet yours, yet your focus remained captivated by his lips. Those gentle, rosy lips of his held an irresistible allure—he couldn’t suppress the smile that curved them. Testing the limits, he snaked a hand around the back of your neck and, just under your jaw, dragged his thumb along the line of your jugular vein.

“Suguru,” you rasped, tone of voice laced with warning.

He traced circles into your skin, touch so light it was barely there. But you were aware—so painfully aware—that it was, and that he was taunting you. His hot breath feathered the base of your throat, and you swallowed harshly at the thoughts racing through your mind.

“Something wrong?”

Fuck.

Snatching his hand away, you gripped the flesh of his arm so tightly crescent indents from your nails embedded themselves into his skin. You didn’t like being teased.

“Suguru,” you said again, voice low and dangerous, ”You don’t know what you’re getting into.”

“I don’t.” He toyed with the hem of your top, daring you to inch closer. “So, why don’t you show me?”

Swearing under your breath, your hand that originally rested on his cheek laced into his hair. You allowed him the liberty of a free hand, and his immediately smoothed down your back to the curve of your ass. He leaned forward, eyes closed, ready to feel your lips on his, only to meet the palm of your hand instead. He gave you a betrayed look. You smiled, eyes flashing appreciatively at the twinge of frustration that crossed his face.

As you twirled a lock of hair that framed his face around your forefinger, your attention was drawn to the shallow huffs of his breath escaping him. You trailed your fingers down the length of hair, kissing the tip before letting it go. The edges of your knuckles skimmed down his neck, past the crevice of his torso—satisfied with the wince he made as you adjusted your sitting position on his lap.

“Is that it?” He groaned, voice strangled with need. He wanted more—fuck—he needed more. Your lips on his, your hands on his skin—more.

Your amused hum rang through his body, spreading heat to the core of his abdomen.

Tugging his hair, you forced Suguru to expose the vulnerable parts of his neck to you. You ground downwards onto him through the material of his pants, peppering his jawline with open-mouthed kisses as he let out a breathy groan; starting near his chin and making your way to the base where his ear met his neck. Biting down lightly, you ran your tongue over the sensitive skin, earning a gasp from Suguru. His fingers dug into your hips—painfully, almost—leaving his own bruises on you to match.

So possessive.

Pulling away just a fraction, you caressed the bruised flourish with your lips, blowing a cool puff of air against the hot skin.

“Please,” he shivered; but God, revenge had never felt so sweet.

A feverish rush of heat surged through his veins, igniting a fiery lust. His stomach coiled and knotted with a mix of excitement and nerves, creating a swirling whirlpool of anticipation. At that very moment, there was nothing he wanted more than you.

With your lips still brushing the base of his ear, you murmured, “Please, what?”

“Please, mommy… just touch me, already.”

And you complied.

A tortured sound clawed its way out of his lips, a strangled moan that carried the weight of his desperation. He couldn’t take it anymore, your continuous teasing crumbling his old bravado.

“Finally,” he mumbled against your mouth, causing you to laugh into the kiss.

His large hands pressed against your lower back, pushing your hips against him. For a second you broke the kiss, tugging the soft flesh of his bottom lip before soothing it with your tongue. Your chest was flattened against Suguru's defined muscles, and you were sure Suguru could feel the frantic beat of your heart through your ribcage. Eventually, the both of you had to pull away, taking in deep inhales of air.

Grinding down lazily on his crotch, making a pitiable whine escape his lips, a sound born of both frustration and intense focus. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut, his face contorting with longing.

“Needy,” you teased, pulling yourself closer to him.

You nudged his legs open with your arms around his shoulders and neck, slipping your thigh between his. His breathing stuttered as your leg brushed against him, nudging his bulging cock constrained by the prison of his clothing. A tremor coursed through him, causing his body to shudder involuntarily. His nails scratched a path along your lower back, leaving behind a trail of sensation that mingled with a soft, needy whine escaping his lips.

You guided him steadily along your thigh, humping your leg, and he sighed, your hand reaching up to tangle in his hair as a shiver ran through his body. As you lazily ground your knee up against him, his hips rutted up, thrusting aimlessly, desperately searching for friction. His hand descended to the thigh suspended by his hip, fingers exerting a gentle yet possessive pressure as they made contact. Simultaneously, his other arm enveloped your waist, drawing you snugly against him, creating an intimate connection between your bodies.

He gasped and let out a hoarse groan as he used you to try and reach his high, burying his face in your neck and tightening his arm around you, keeping your upper body immobile. Your breathing was uneven, and your hips skittered along his thigh.

“Please, fuck—oh,” he groaned, and you felt his cock twitch in yearning through the material of his pants.

“Stop.”

“Wha–?”

You pushed him back by the shoulders to see his face clearly. “I have an idea.”

“Seriously? Now?”

You rolled your hips once, and whatever he might have said next got caught in his throat. “Maybe you can’t take it then.”

“I can take it,” he said through gritted teeth.

✦•···················•✦•···················•✦

The buckle clinked as you secured it around Suguru’s wrists, supple leather of his own belt binding them behind his back, and he’s left helpless. You smoothed your hands up to his shoulder blades, resting them there as you placed your chin on his shoulder, looking at him in the mirror opposite.

He was sitting on the edge of the bed, hands tied behind him and stripped from head to toe in front of a full-length mirror, with you kneeling behind him, thighs pressed on either side of his waist. His eyes were set resolutely on the floor, pointedly looking anywhere but at his reflection, or you.

“Is this okay?” you asked. He mumbled something so hushed that even from your seated position, the words remained unheard, carried away on the air before they could reach your ears. “Suguru?”

“It’s okay.”

You slowly kissed down one side of his neck, your hands running down his back and smoothing to wrap around his middle. You felt his muscles tense up under your touch, and goosebumps erupted on the surface of his skin as your breath fanned against it. You sensed his muscles coiling with tension beneath your fingertips, and a ripple of goosebumps surfaced on his skin, stirred by the caress of your breath. You held him steady in your arms, taking your time to worship him, and although he relaxed, he didn’t move.

“Then why won’t you look?”

His body seemed to sag slightly as he sighed. “It’s… embarrassing.”

“We go as far as you want, my love.”

It’s almost as if you could hear his thoughts slotting into place before he answered. “No. I want this.”

“Do you trust me?”

“Completely,” he answers, eyes lifting to meet you in the mirror.

The expression he’s wearing makes your heart jump—it’s earnest and nervous, and full of adoration for you. You tilted his head towards you, capturing his lips in a searing kiss; a reminder that the risk was worth the reward, and a reminder that he was trusting himself fully to you.

Simultaneously, one of your hands travelled down his body to his already hard cock, slowly stroking it to build up a comfortable, but intense, pleasure. Suguru moaned into your mouth, breaking free from the kiss, and pushing his hips into your hand just slightly, knowing you’d pull away if he was too insistent. His eyes had scrunched shut, and his body leaned into you, searching for the pressure of your chest against his back.

You slowed your hand a fraction, your lips attaching to his neck as you sucked another dark bruise onto his skin, and you licked the new blemish, making him exhale as you bit down on it with your teeth. You continued to leave a trail of lovebites and kisses along his neck, noticing his breathing getting increasingly laboured, and you loved the way his body began to twist and push into your touch. Slowly but surely, you had built him up so that satisfaction had morphed into desperation.

You slowed your hand until it was barely moving. “Remember what we agreed?”

Your other hand raked its nails up the smooth expanse of his thigh, sinking into the plush flesh as the other suddenly quickened its pace. Suguru couldn’t help but sail into the stream of release, hips bucking upward, and so, so fucking close, your title on his lips. Right before the pleasure could roll over him, you pulled your hand away from his cock, and it was ruined.

He choked out a whimper, chest heaving with exertion as his body shuddered involuntarily.

“Keep your eyes on me, and no matter what, no cumming until I say your name. Got it?” He whined a weak ‘yes’. “Remember who you’re speaking to.”

“Yes, mommy,” he relented.

“Look up.”

“I can’t.”

Tender kisses dotted his shoulder, soft nips eliciting a gasp here and there. You knew exactly how to drive him mad with need, but he wouldn’t give in that easily.

“Oh, but you will, sweet boy.”

The soft pad of your thumb teased his slit, swiping across the aching head of his dick. It was just the smallest taste of what you could do—of how easily you could bring him to bliss. More kisses and bites marked his now burning neck and shoulders, the tiniest pressure of your fingers torturing his sensitive length.

Finally, instinct took over, and his eyes shot open the moment you stroked his dripping dick again.

“Follow my hand, baby,” you whispered.

He dragged his focus to your other hand, which was lifted just above him in the mirror.

With a deliberate slowness, your touch maintaining its gentle rhythm, you eased your hand downward to cradle Suguru's jaw. His resistance melted as he was compelled to confront his own reflection, captivated by the connection between your touch and his gaze—all desperate and needy for you.

The eyeliner you’d previously done for him was smudged, and the mascara on his eyelashes had dampened and clumped together with tears. He whined, eyes glistening, and the raw emotion on his almost painfully grimacing face had you enchanted for a second. His body had a thin sheen of sweat that gleamed in the low-light. His chest heaved, and he was arched into your hand as he searched for friction. He truly looked so beautiful like this, and you’d do whatever it would take for him to see that.

“Keep your eyes open, pretty boy. Don’t let them leave your reflection even for a second.”

You gave him a wicked grin before your hand pumped the fastest it had done yet, grip on his jaw tightening when he closed his eyes for just a fraction of a second. You stopped your movements, and he hurriedly opened his eyes for you again.

The cycle would continue, and each time he closed his eyes, you’d stop. Every time he corrected himself, you’d slow your pace as punishment, and every time he kept them open for a long while you’d speed up as a reward.

It was maddening, and nowhere near over.

“Where’d that attitude go?” you asked faux-sincerely. “You can take it all, can’t you, pretty thing?”

“Please, mommy,” he whimpered.

Thick, pearly tears gathered on his lashes, welling up in his pretty eyes as they smudged the black makeup, and rolling down his flushed cheeks. They shimmered and streaked his face, baby hairs stuck to his sweaty forehead, brows knitted together and the frustration just kept building.

“Look at yourself, baby. Look at how starved you are for me. Look at my hand between your thighs—your cock’s weeping—it’s aching for my touch. Look at your face, c’mon now. See it? You’re crying for me—such a pretty mess—you’re so gorgeous when you feel good. So perfect like this.”

“Please!” he cried out, “J-Just say it!”

You reached down, cupping his heavy balls, giving them a gentle squeeze and his mind goes blank. His mouth fell open with a silent moan, spit dripping from his lips down his chin.

“Won’t you put on a show for me, sweet thing?”

“I can’t—fuck—please. Please, mommy, I can’t t-take it,” he manages to moan out.

Your hand returned to his length, and your grip is feather-light. It’s moving at a torturous pace, barely even moving and yet he feels everything, though it’s not enough. Another cascade of tears spilt from his eyes, tracing damp trails down his cheeks, and a bittersweet ache coursed through him as the overwhelming intensity of pleasure bordered on aching bliss.

“Please, cum for me,” you moan sweetly, lips brushing against the shell of his ear and contrasting so greatly with the cruel smile you’re wearing.

“No, I c-can’t. Not until you–”

“Please, sweet boy, won’t you be good for me?” your deceptively saccharine words cut him off.

It provoked a near visceral reaction from him—shoulders drawn up as a chill ran down his spine. It’s like every one of his nerves was on edge, burning up from the release you kept denying him. Another broken sob escaped him.

“Just say it—please, mommy.”

“Doesn’t the suspense make it worth it, though? Isn’t it more fun to wait?” mockery dripped from your honey-like tone, the sadistic spark in your eyes glinting as he bucked into your hand.

The room seemed to pulsate with a heightened temperature, the atmosphere electrified. He felt like he was white-hot, a sensation akin to being searingly alive, as though your influence possessed an unnatural hold. He found himself incapable of resistance, unable to deny the power you exerted over him.

And yet, what if the punishment was worth it?

“I’ll leave you like this,” you chuckled, reading his thoughts. “Would you like that?”

“No! Please, I… I–”

“Beg for me one last time.”

The pressure had built so incredibly sweetly, and finally, you weren’t letting go.

“Please, s-say my name, mommy. I can’t… fuck, I can’t take it,” he sobbed for you, the words broken with gasps and moans.

“Cum for me, Suguru.”

You saying his name tipped him over the edge, squirming as he rutted shamelessly into your hand. Unintelligible thanks spilt from Suguru’s bitten lips, face contorting in ecstasy as he let out a guttural moan. His body seized up, legs trembling, and tears streaming down his face when he finally let go, and you held his chin to make him watch his reflection.

Thick spurts of cum coated your hand, and he’s moaning your title over and over like it’s all he can think of, watching himself come apart so easily for you and it just feels too good to be true.

“Fuck,” he panted, aftershocks washing through his body slumped into yours, too exhausted to continue.

“You did such a good job for me,” you murmured, brushing the hair away from his face. “Now just let me look after you, okay?”

✦•···················•✦•···················•✦

The water sloshed around you both as you reached for a washcloth. Suguru was sat between your legs, full weight pressed against you as he leaned into the warmth of your body.

You cupped his face with one hand as the other gently wiped away the ruined makeup that stained his cheeks. His eyes were closed, and he rested the weight of his hand in your palm, enjoying the closeness.

“Suguru?” He hummed but made no move to speak. “I just wanted to say that I’m really proud of you, you know.”

He slowly opened his eyes, face softening at your genuine expression. You looked at him as if he were some precious gem, holding him so carefully as if he might shatter, like glasswork.

“Thank you for everything,” he said quietly.

You smiled, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead before reaching over for the bottle of shampoo. You rubbed the liquid between your hands until it frothed, then weaved your fingers into the locks of Suguru’s hair, scratching his scalp lightly as you cleansed it.

“You’ve got Satoru’s birthday party coming this Tuesday, right?”

“I’ll be home late, then,” he sighed.

“Don’t worry about that,” you said, ”I was just thinking… you might have some issues covering up the marks.”

“Oh, fuck me,” he groaned, remembering that you had indeed barely left a square inch untouched from his neck down.

“Again?” you snorted, and he felt you shudder with laughter at your own joke.

“You’re gonna have to hide them for me.”

“Oh? And what if I don’t want to?”

“I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“Could be worse,” you muttered, before tilting your head to brush your lips against his in a soft kiss.

He caught your chin in his hand, cradling it with his index finger and thumb. The feather-light touch tickled ever so slightly, and you could feel him smile briefly as you ran a hand through his hair. His fingers slid along the curve of your neck and threaded into your hair as his thumb caressed your cheek. You shivered, goosebumps rising on your arms, and he only took it as an invitation to lean in more. His hand stayed on your chin, tilting it towards him for easier access. A minute, an hour. All he knew was how soft your lips were against his own.

Eventually, his lungs burned for air and you broke the kiss, still so close that you murmured sweet nothings against his lips as you pressed your foreheads together.

Then finally, you barely catch it but it’s there, you hear in the barest of whispers—

“The water’s going cold.”

this work belongs to STARRIERKNIGHT . please refrain from plagiarising any of my works and do not repost/translate/modify/copy onto any platforms. .

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nrdmssgs · 7 months

Text

How your first kisses with Nikto and Gromsko would feel

Masterlist Part 1 (Gaz, Soap, Ghost) Part 2 (Price, Nikolai, König)

Never wrote for these two, but... hey, why not? Maybe I got too carried away with Niktos drama.

Nikto

A few saw the fear in this man's eyes. But here you are: looking him deep in the eyes and witnessing panic taking over Niktos mind.

The only time, he takes off his mask with you around is when you are sleeping. No matter how much reassurance you gave him - he only allows himself to spend a few hours without disguise, strictly when you can't see him.

Sometimes you wake up, feeling him sliding under your blanket, pressing his chest against your back. But he never lets you turn back to face him. Any attempt of yours ends up with Nikto hugging you tighter, burying his face somewhere between a pillow and your hair, muttering 'Spi krepko, moy svet*'.

You are his light, so he is determined to never darken your life with the sight of his face. So imagine his horror when he wakes up from the touch of your fingers on his cheek. He must have relaxed too much, didn't notice you shifting in your sleep. And now it is too late: you see, even worse - you feel his ugliness on the tips of your fingers.

He freezes, but something unkind awakes in his eyes. Guilt, self-hatred, doubt.

"We must go." Nikto snarls raspy and sharply pulls away from your hands. He must disappear from your sight, stop harassing your soft soul with his face right now.

You know, how bad it is when this 'we' appears instead of 'I'. This rarely happens, but when it starts - he abandons you for weeks, sometimes for months, hiding somewhere from the entire world. And you can't let this situation escalate.

With one swift motion, you catch his hand and pull it to your face. His name, not a call sign, his real name escapes from your lips and that catches his attention.

"Look at me. Stay close and look at me, love." You talk to him, as if you are guiding him through all his terrors towards a solace, he usually finds in your eyes.

As his fingers trace your features, you mimic his movements, letting him feel, how his touch feels against your skin. Slowly, his breath steadies.

You don't rush it: you let him calm down and get comfortable before you lean closer and plant the softest kiss at the corner of his lips. Nikto doesn't lean back, doesn't push you away, but he presses his lips firmly together and slowly shakes his head in silent refusal.

I can't.

You learned to understand him, even when he doesn't let some thoughts out. It wasn't the easiest thing to do, but you learned to read it in his eyes. And now you see regret and sorrow. His face stays calm, but his eyes scream 'I would give anything to be able to dare, but I can't'.

So you do it for him: dare to cross this line instead of him. Your first kiss is left unanswered, but as you brush your lips against his again and again - he closes his eyes, lowers his head in a final attempt to regain control over himself, but fails and catches your lips in a short, but desperate kiss.

His answer to your caresses is like a distant storm - abrupt touches to your lips resemble lightning dancing over the horizon, his hands slowly bringing you closer shatter your mind like a thunder. Never have you ever felt so much from so little contact. This man has such a power over you - it should scare you. But you feel like you want more: you want his lips to linger on yours for a longer time, you want his hands running all over your body.

You allow yourself just a taste - a tip of your tongue lightly traces just a few millimeters of his Niktos lips, and he groans quietly. As he pauses for a moment to look you in the eyes and maybe find there regret or disgust, you can barely calm down your deepened breath and ask, plead to keep kissing you.

He traces his fingers over your jawline and deepens the kiss, gradually leaving sorrow and fear of scaring you away behind. For who is he to deny his light's wish? Nobody. Nikto.

Spi krepko, moy svet* - sleep well, my light

Sobieslaw "Gromsko" Kościuszko

Two main things, you've learned about this big burly loud guy over the years of your friendship are his incredible hospitality and absolute forgiveness. Those, who don't know him, may be afraid of Gromsko the first time they see him, but you know the guy too well for that. He is a giant softie, when it comes to you.

So there were no allegations, when you not even offered, but straight presented him with a fait accompli, that you are cooking a dinner at his place the next time, you visit him. You didn't tell him, but you were afraid, that if he cooks once again for you - you are not leaving his house, you are rolling out of it. His eagerness to feed you could compete only with your granny`s. Maybe it was a cultural thing, maybe he genuinely was worried about you being too small - but Gromsko saw it like his top priority mission.

"Sobieslaw, stop it right now, or I'm chopping your fingers off!" You laugh, maneuvering a kitchen knife, so that it touches only carrot. It's impossible to shield a cutting board from him, as Gromsko practically envelops you, laying his chin on the top of your head and stealing a bite of every single ingredient, you use.

"I'm helping, słoneczko*!" You like the feeling of his voice, reverberating in his broad chest. It is like a purring cat, pressed against your back.

Maybe you lean back on him too obviously, because at some point he smirks and asks if you need more space.

"I'm fine, So. Just... just try to not eat our dinner before I even cooked it, ok?" You are still giggling and don't even notice, how he drops his face into your hair and just stands like that, drowning in your scent.

"Good. It is good, you feel fine, when I'm around." Suddenly his voice is much softer, and you hear him right above your ear.

He brushes your hair off the side and plants a small warm kiss right behind your ear. You freeze, not sure, how to interpret this sudden shift in your friend's behavior.

"I should stop, or you're chopping my fingers right now?" He is so close, yet he doesn't touch you anymore. Not until you let him.

You slowly turn to him. "I should, if you didn't mean, what you just did."

His face lights with the happiest, widest smile.

"Oh, but I do, słońce. I certainly do."

His kiss on your lips is incredibly soft, his warm breath tickles your skin, as he cups your face. Sobieslaw is caring in every his motion, helping you to relax and just live in this moment. He smiles into your kiss, gives you a complete freedom to do whatever you feel like, only showing you, that there is nothing, he wouldn't do for you. As his tongue brushes against yours, warmth ignites deep in your chest and feels you with a sensational feeling. Feeling of becoming his.

słoneczko and słońce - sunshine

#gromsko #gromsko x reader #sobiesław kościuszko #sobiesław kościuszko x reader #call of duty #call of duty x reader #cod #cod x reader #mw2 #gromsko mw2 #mw2 x reader #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod headcanons #cod nikto #nikto #nikto x reader #mwii nikto #nikto x you

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xo-cod · 7 months

Note

omg more soft Simon pls😭💗 maybe sth with a highly sensitive reader sfw or nsfw whatever works for u... luv ur blog💖

thank you sm lovie :") this is sfw! sorry i got to this so late 😩🤍

dangerous love

"don't make me say it. i can't say the words"

rolling your eyes, you sit on the lap of your beloved lieutenant. the usual firm and stoic ghost has been left at the door, here he's become so affectionate and clingy, the way you adored it. here, he's simon. his calloused hands are wandering, trying to memorise every part on your skin. even though every nook and cranny is burned into his memory, mapped out exactly where and how to caress your body to get you into a whimpering mess.

"i think that's a lie, i think you can say those words simon riley" accentuating his name elicits a small groan from his lips, how he adores it when you take charge and command him. it brings a side of him he doesn't usually feel safe to show others. but you're so different. so warm and comforting, it just naturally comes out, spilling everywhere before he can even comprehend

you're so close to him, your fingers running though his blonde soft hair scratching gently on his scalp. and he relishes in it, his eyes closing out of habit. he can't help but rock underneath you, hoping you'd forget and immerse yourself in pleasure only he can provide you

but tonight, you were on a mission. and certainly not one to settle for any less so you move back but he grumbles a little, his hold on your waist tightening so that you're back close to him. he can't help but breathe in your sweet smell, practically trembling underneath you. like you're simultaneously not enough but yet overriding his senses.

"iloveyou" he mumbles in your neck, breath tickling your chest. it makes you giggle softly, gently pushing him back. your hands lace with his bigger ones, shaking your head as you gaze down at your half sleepy man

"try again, sir" you whisper, your arms around his neck. his eyes darken with lust at the word, instantly thinking about how many ways he could have you. but you don't relent. he knows what you want and maybe it's the fact that he's so tired that all his walls are down or the fact that he's so in love with you, he can't help but give you what you want

simon leans his forehead against your own, the sweetest of smiles pulling on his lips. his hands come to hold yours, his thumb rubbing comforting circles around your knuckles. he breathes you in a little, not used to being so open and vulnerable about his feelings like this. not used to having someone care for him so deeply, not thinking that he could've ever received such a thing in this painful life.

"i love you, with everything in me. i never thought i could feel this way, that it was even bloody possible..." he breaks off, gently chuckling at the predicament he was in. how for years he swore of love, swore off from ever pursuing a relationship in this life. he didn't grow up with adoring parents that showed him what love meant, he couldn't possibly drag someone else deep down in the depths of his pain and misery of his past. the same thing he was running from.

how nobody could hold a candle to him but you managed to light a whole fire deep in his soul. the embers burning more bright and intense than he could've ever imagined. you truly tilted his world on its axis but he didn't care. for once in his life, he was reckless. and he loved it, for it landed him you.

"but there you were, you little minx. and i've fallen for you y/n l/n, more than you think. more than i even bloody know" his voice is soft as he nears the end of his confession, kissing the tip of your nose. there's really nothing more he could think of, he was a man of few words so action was always his number one thing. no words could do it justice. but he'd show you, again and again. so that even if you had a sliver of doubt all of was expelled, he'd make sure of that

"i love you too si..." you whisper, tenderly holding his stubbled face between your palms. your thumbs rub soft circles on the apples of his cheeks, giving into him. you couldn't help it, he was so addicting. your arms go behind his neck, pulling him towards you desperately. and he did the same, his arms tightening around your waist as if you'd disappear right before him. like he couldn't handle the fact that there could possibly be any sort of distance between you both, he pulls you with his strong arms close to his front.

as you got lost in the feeling of him, a surety had rose, lodged deep in his throat. his hands hold you as if you'll slip through his fingers, deepening the kiss as though your lips were the sweetest of drugs. that it'll be you always, for as long as you will let him. for as long as you'll have him

#asks #simon riley #call of duty modern warfare #simon ghost riley #cod mwii #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley x y/n #ghost x reader #ghost x y/n #simon riley x reader fluff

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ldrfanatic · 3 months

Text

If the World Was Ending

Theodore Nott x Fem!Reader Part Two of Craw Home to Her

A/N- after weeks it's finally here! This isn't a direct songfic like the first part, however, it's accompanying song is If the World Was Ending by JP Saxe

Slight alteration to the original timeline of events of Half-Blood Prince

crawl home to her (part I) navigation slytherin boys masterlist

After that party in the Slytherin Common Room, you and Theo had begun dating. And for the entire month of January, a perfect Valentine's Day, and everything was perfect. Now, with Spring Break is rapidly approaching, the war is becoming more and more real. Everyone in your small circle knew of the tasks that had been assigned to you and a few other children of prominent Death Eaters in preparation of their takeover of Hogwarts at the end of the year.

Draco had begun to stress and look worse for wear as the weight of this secrecy from Hermione started to settle in. Mattheo, who had the worst of the lot of you, had given up on his usual banter with Potter and had been holed up in the boys' dormitory for the past two weeks or so.

Though there'd been an uptick in the moods of Theo and yourself in the midst of your new relationship, the novelty and puppy-love air had dampened when a letter from Theo's father arrived a few days ago requesting a visit home in the upcoming spring break. While your parents had been relatively silent since giving you your assignment, you knew that they'd want a progress update soon, and you hadn't even worked up the stomach to begin at all.

The thought of betraying your classmates and professors at Hogwarts had become sickening to all of you.

Still, sitting here in Theo's arms under a large oak tree at the Great Lake, you couldn't find it in yourself to feel scared or sad. There was a soft and sweet bubble of love around the two of you with a warm air that seeped into your bones and warmed your soul. Theo pressed a sweet kiss to your temple and when you turned to meet his eyes, you were unsure how you never realized that Theodore Nott was in love with you. Especially if he'd been looking at you like that all this time.

"You know I leave next Tuesday, love?"

The deep rumble of Theo's voice in his chest felt like a lightning bolt through your body that had electricity simmering at the tips of your fingers and your toes. How you'd never realized you were also madly in love with Theodore Nott you were also unsure of. Had your body always reacted to him this way? The thought of being away from him for 10 days made your heart sink a little lower than you'd anticipated. You and Theo had been each other's light as the skies darkened and the air turned cold. You could predict now that your mood would suffer significantly from a lack of Vitamin Theo.

"I'll miss you."

"And I you," His arms tightened around your torso and pulled you further back into his chest. "have you heard from your mum yet?"

You shook your head and tried not to think about the rage you'd certainly face if you didn't start on your task soon. You'd never particularly been friends with Katie Bell, but the thought of cursing her made you a little queasy. Especially when it meant the end result was weakening Dumbledore so that Mattheo could deliver the final blow.

Still, Draco and Theo both has worse jobs than your own. Draco was still working on the Vanishing cabinet and adjusting to his new dark mark bestowed to him by his aunt, and your mother, Bellatrix LeStrange. Theo had been tasked with enlisting the help of the Acromantula and Centaurs in the Dark Forest and it wasn't going very well. When he'd returned the other night, he'd had arrow cuts all over after rapidly fleeing the scene when his meeting with a group of centaurs turned sour.

In short, you'd been given an easy and simple task with minimal danger. But you'd been given it because it was essential. Should you fail to deliver this curse to Dumbledore, when Mattheo advances on him, he will surely lose, and the Dark Lord will descend upon the entire lot of you with a fury unknown.

"You'll be fine. And the curse won't kill Bell, she'll just be a little rattled."

You whipped your head upwards to your boyfriend and flashed him a bewildered look. "They asked me to use Imperio, Theo! That's an unforgiveable."

"I know. But in the grand scheme of things, we'll all be otherwise occupied before this whole thing is over."

You settled back into his embrace without another word.

You knew he was right.

But you just couldn't stomach it.

Turns out you were right. You couldn't stomach it.

You tried to be as quiet as possible as you deposited the contents of your stomach behind the Three Broomsticks. Thankfully, the bustling sounds of Hogsmeade during Spring Break were cover enough for the sounds of you retching.

But it was done. Katie Bell had been successfully cursed, given her mission, and sent on her way to the Headmaster's Office.

It was the last few days of Spring Break and Theo was supposed to return soon. Your nerves ad been on edge since he'd left. Now that you completed your task, you felt a little better but you wouldn't be able to relax until Theo was safely back into your arms. Only two more days and he'd be back.

After what turned out to be an unsuccessful attempt to curse Katie, you went back to your dorm room and tried to ignore the growing feeling of dread inside of you. Once your mother heard of your failure through Professor Snape, you were pretty much done for. You didn't attend Dinner that night and instead decided to remain holed up in your bed with your curtains drawn shut. You weren't exactly in the mood for sympathies.

However, your plans to sulk for the evening were interrupted quite suddenly by Pansy Parkinson. "Y/n get up! They're here."

You rolled over halfway and stared bewildered at your friend. "Who's here?"

"The Death Eaters."

A chill ran straight down your spine. They weren't supposed to be here until the end of the year. They weren't supposed to come until Theo came back. Still, you flung yourself out of bed and quickly pulled on your tennis shoes and a jumper to protect you from the cold air. When you finally exited the common room, it was pretty clear where the Death Eaters were. Students were tearing off in waves away from the Great Hall. You could hear your mother's manic cackling and curses fired into the crowd caused even more panic.

You masked your fear with an emotionless facade and began shoving through the crowd towards your mother trying to appear as mean as possible and firing meaningless spells into the crowd.

As soon as your mother could see you, she bound towards you with a grin. It was hard to tell if she was angry or excited. It was always hard to tell. "Daughter! You've done so well. The Dark Lord will be so pleased. Dumbledore is dead!" You tried to smile and look happy with the news but your chest tightened further. Dumbledore was dead, Theo was missing, and you were now back into the clutches of your insane mother.

Part of your heart sunk at her words. You'd never particularly cared for your mother but it was always The Dark Lord will be so pleased or The Dark Lord is proud or The Dark Lord cares for all of his disciples and never her saying those things to you. She was never pleased, never proud, and she never cared. Harry Potter came suddenly around the corner of the corridor and fired a stunning curse that hit Crabbe's father dead center in the chest.

Your mother's face instantly turned from pleased to enraged and she let out the cruciatus curse in a bellow. You didn't see the remainder of the encounter as she and the other Death Eaters took off after Potter. A temporary relief calmed your heart. Snape hadn't said anything to your mother. At least not yet. Maybe you could convince him not to say anything.

As you ran through the castle, you'd noticed dead bodies of classmates that'd been slaughtered by the Death Eaters' rampage. Still, no sign of Theo. You begun to fear for your boyfriend. There's no way that Nott Sr. would come to the castle on this mission without Theo. You were so lost in your head, you didn't see Hermione until you slammed into each other and knocked heads. Your movements mirrored each other as both of your arms shot up to rub at your temples.

"Y/n! Have you seen Draco?"

You shook your head sympathetically and wrapped the brunette into what would probably be the last hug you ever gave Hermione Granger.

"I've got to go, but Theo's looking for you. I just passed him outside of the Charms classroom running around like a madman." She sprinted away from you but turned momentarily to shout after your own retreating figure. "If you see Draco, tell him I love him!"

You took off towards the Charms classroom with a new fervor. Please Salazar let Theo be okay. Finally, you heard his voice. "Y/n?! Y/n!!"

"Theo! Theo I'm here!!"

The moment you laid eyes on Theodore Nott your heart stopped. He was covered head to toe in bruises and his skin had paled since you saw him last. He looked downright awful. But that didn't stop you from launching yourself into his embrace and squeezing like the world depended on it. Draco, Mattheo, Blaise, and Pansy were all rallied behind him. Pansy was tucked into Blaise' side. Draco had his wand drawn and was frantically checking every door in the corridor no doubt looking for Hermione.

"She's not here, D. I ran into her maybe five minutes ago. She asked me to tell you that she loves you. Then she took off towards the East Wing of the castle."

Draco immediately started sprinting in the direction you'd come from with Pansy and Blaise hot on his tail.

You recentered on Theo who pressed his forehead down into yours.

"What has happened to you Theodore Nott?"

"It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter if the sun were shining or if the world was ending, I will always be right here. With you."

You stared up at him. "The world is ending, my love."

You pressed your lips against his.

okay okay done for now. should I just make this into a series at this point?

WC 1739

2.7.2024

#slytherin #slytherin boys #theodore nott #theo nott #theo nott x reader #theodore nott x reader

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