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#yes I have made many of them because I am never satisfied

hoseoksluna · 1 month

Text

STEAM | myg ft. jjk

pairing: boyfriend!yoongi x oc (feat. jungkook)

genre: smut

word count: 9.2k

summary: one video call awakens your neediness for two cocks.

playlist: steam / pinterest board: steam

warnings: female masturbation, mentions of shower sex, praise kink, toying with the idea of polyamory, a hint of voyeurism, oc rly goes through it and faces mental battles, fear, intoxication, punishment, dom/sub dynamics, fingering, choking, cum eating, manhandling, degradation, provocation, mutual masturbation, rough & raw sex, brief oral sex (f. receiving), pet names

note: IT'S FINALLY HEREEEEEE SKFDSFLSFJ, okay so—let me introduce to you a new yoongi series featuring JUNGKOOK oh my god. i am SO EXCITED about this and i wanna apologize for my insane ideas in advance... i'm so sorry, guys. nevertheless, i hope you like this as much as i do, i literally went mad writing this and i smoked so many cigarettes i lost count. please, let me kNOW UR FAVORITE PARTS CUZ I HAVE SO MANY AND I WANNA TALK ABOUT THEM. oh fuck, guys. ENJOY READING SDKFJSD. ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

side note: btw, the playlist i made is literally perfect and depicts the fic wonderfully. you can listen while you read! <3

The scent of mangoes finds its way up your nostrils, heating your senses through its balmy touch as you rub the body butter over the damp skin of your arms. Fingers graze along your décolletage, tucking in the fragrance for your boyfriend to breathe in when he comes home. He’s out for the night—said something about his friend finishing his military service, so the whole group was going out to celebrate it. Yoongi was so frantic in his excitement, hastily putting on the first outfit that sparked his eye. Didn’t even touch his hair, only sprayed a mist of his sandalwood and tangerine-tinged perfume. Grabbed his phone, keys, wallet. Barely kissed you goodbye before he fled out of the door.

He didn’t even ask you if you wanted to come along.

You didn’t mind, though—you’re only in the early stages of your relationship. It hasn’t even been half a year since you’ve started dating. And you figure he deserves a night out with his closest friends because you’ve been attached to the hip since the beginning. Funnily enough, you no longer live at your own place. Somehow, you’ve settled in Yoongi’s apartment, never setting foot outside, save for your walks, grocery shopping, the few dates with your friends and work. There wasn’t any conversation about it; you just mostly spend your free time with your boyfriend.

And all you do is fuck, eat and watch movies.

The last time Yoongi took you out was during the first two months you’d been getting to know him. The realization of how long it’s been sends a trail of chills down your arms and you rub it away.

But because you’ve been spending all your time together, you’re glad to have a moment to yourself—glad to be able to take a long hot shower, to do your hair and skincare. Perhaps, you’ll even have time to do your nails and that energizes you, propels you to spread the body butter further down the rest of your body. It is your rose garden, these night times reserved for your hot showers. The place you go to—your hideaway from the pressure and nerves of life that the steam loosens and soothes, especially when you let your sultry playlist echo through the mightiness of Yoongi’s bathroom, your favorite singer’s voice reaching your veins like the growing stems of those roses; pretty, pink and so feminine. Yes, Yoongi’s therapy sessions and thick length might have been a great help, the best in fact, but there’s something about letting yourself be burned off of all that’s been weighing you down and watching it trickle down the drain that is just so satisfying.

It was all that you were once used to. That is, until you met Yoongi.

Showers with him are something else.

Something you never thought you could ever have the blessing to encounter. Showers with Yoongi are intense, so out of pocket that you find yourself thinking about them fondly whenever you’re alone with your thoughts. There, beneath the downpour of the warm water, he lets you see the other side of his ever unyielding stern façade. While holding you, he would make you laugh, then make you moan and break that sound with each hard plunge of his cock. Hair slicked back, smirk adorning that delicious wet mouth, causing him to look like a Mafioso bent on absolutely ruining you. He would tell you the most insane story he heard from his friend, then talk you through the build-up of your orgasm while continuing to the point of that story—seamlessly waving through, never losing tempo. “Then, he went up to his hyung to ask him about what he did—yes, just like that, honey, take it. I know you’re almost there, just listen.” You would come all over his cock, sprinkling him with your essence, right there at the end of his story and like a hungry man, he’d get on his knees and eat you up, muttering how good you are and how well you did along with each swipe of his tongue. Your lungs would heave due to the overstimulation, your legs would tremble, unable to stand and he’d gather you into his arms, fold you like paper into the crooks of his body and let his thick duvet drape over you. He’d fall asleep first, breathing in the scent of your shampoo, snoring softly behind you while spooning you, never letting go of his deathly grip around you. And while you would breathe in the haze of lilac sprayed on his pillows, you’d become aware of the drowsy rhythm of his heartbeat, the lift and fall of his chest against your back, the snug heat of his body and it would lull you to sleep.

That has become your new version of hot long showers.

And if it isn’t this, then it’s Yoongi letting you quickly wash yourself before he’d steal you away, dragging you into this bed, only to carry you back there an hour later.

You speculate he has a serious, adorable case of attachment issues.

That is why you enjoy your exceptional alone shower all the more—you haven’t had it in so long. Only this time, it’s quite different.

You feel him everywhere.

You feel him in the drift of your hand down your tummy because you recollect the way he likes to pepper kisses there on his way to eat you out. You feel him when you round your palms across your backside because you know he particularly likes to leave traces of saliva when he presses open-mouthed kisses there. His love for you circulates in your bloodstream, mingling with the little love you have for yourself, making it bigger, turning it into a turbulent rush of liquid. You sense it tapping beneath your skin, asking for more of your body just like Yoongi does, always begging, begging for more—for more skin to kiss and lick, for more sensitive parts of you to find and nibble on.

Your hands sense the ghost of him even when your fingers slip past your mound and realize that the film of your memories dampened your cunt. You hear the words of praise he’d utter into your ear at the discovery and you sigh at your tender touch.

That’s a good girl. Messy for me.

The rotund case of your body butter remains opened, forgotten. You suddenly have better things to do—like give your body the self-care, the self-love it deserves.

It’s a part of the solo girl's night.

A mewl comes out of your mouth at the first round of circles on your clit. Furrowing your brows at the pleasure, you prop your free hand on the edge of the bathroom counter, riding the pads of your fingers. And then, just like Yoongi taught you, you take your digits away, edging yourself, taking them elsewhere. You cry out at the contact of your wet fingertips on your stiff nipple and you pinch the nub, a spasm of delight coursing through your sensitiveness.

You imagine Yoongi standing behind you. Not touching you, merely guiding you, telling you when to stop, when to pick up the pace—when to fill your hole. Watching you in the mirror, hands in his pockets, having a perfect view of your slick-caked folds, of your clit swollen and asking for his tongue. Determined to make you lose your mind by teasing you, letting you only slap your pussy once you’re close. Your essence drips out of you at that thought, making a mess on the floor and you plug it in with your finger, fucking yourself steadily, inflamed by how slippery your heat is, how easy it is to slip the digit inside. Hot flashes close over your body, pearls of perspiration kissing the crook of your neck. You fuck yourself faster and—

A sudden ring of your phone jolts you. And the picture of your boyfriend, half dressed, with the early morning sunlight leaking over the scars and tattoo on his shoulder, crammed inside your screen, greets you.

You pant hard, your finger still inside of you. Delirious.

He must be on his way home. You don’t even know what time it is.

Leaning forward, you hide your breasts behind your forearm and you swipe your finger to accept his video call.

Blurry Yoongi. The night sky, starlit and alive, behind him. A shoal of silhouettes, some lanky and some buff, all short-haired and all as woozy-lidded as you. The picture smooths into a crystal clear view and there you see your boyfriend, the nocturnal breeze brushing his ebony hair back. Not just him, however, but another male craning his neck to regard you fully.

His eyes flicking from your neck to the smallest of your exposed décolletage, a smirk blossoming on his face like your imaginary roses.

Yoongi slaps his phone face down. You withdraw your finger from your heat, a cacophony of giggles, whiny cries and the exclamations of his name emitting out of your mouth.

He is not, in fact, on his way home.

It is a warning, his low and strict call of your name back and, heeding it, you take your phone into your hands, so he’s only able to see your deeply flushed face. Device back in his hand, he’s not looking at you at all. As a matter of fact, he’s shooting daggers fueled with deadly nightshade at his friend, grumbling something that you can’t quite make out amidst the chaos and bustle of the outing. The shoal of the rest of his friends and strangers disappear out of the perspective, as if threatened by the cold energy.

You wish you knew what he’s saying to him. Even your pussy aches to hear it. The principle of him scolding his friend for looking at you at your most private moment scorches you and you’re red, flattered and majestically horny.

Yoongi turns his head to see if you’re well-behaved and you beam at him, the pulse on your clit intensifying, forcing you to say, “come home, Yoongi.”

He chuckles, aware of the reason behind your words, pretends he isn’t. “What were you doing, baby?”

The growth of your grin doesn’t falter. You show him the sheen of your wet finger in the ivory bathroom light, the glint, the stickiness as you push your index finger to your middle and pull away, your arousal on full, filthy display.

He curses under his breath. Doesn’t give a fuck that his friend sits beside him and adjusts in his seat. Bites his lip briefly. “Stick it in your mouth for me.”

Doesn’t say the words that so very often follow after in that sentence. Taste yourself.

Why he doesn’t step aside to take this video call eludes you, but something about you being watched by two pairs of eyes excites you. Enough for you to do as he says. Perhaps it’s due to the fact you don’t know the male sitting beside him and Yoongi is letting him keep his sight glued to the screen.

Two sharp inhales of breath. Not one of yours. Yoongi readies his hook to feignedly lash out at his friend and you press your thighs together to alleviate yourself of the unbearable feeling between your legs. Confidence, a bad, bad version of confidence suffuses you whole, turning you into a person gone mad by lust. You swirl your tongue around your digit, the tanginess of your taste causing your eyes to narrow, the principle of driving not just one, but two men mad just the same intoxicates you, as if you were there among them, drinking.

A pair of round eyes peek at the corner of the screen. Soft, naive, so terribly innocent. A dash of sobriety washes over you, owed to those brownish effervescent orbs, a sprinkle shame pooling low in your core. A reality check. You sense some kind of stability of that reality beneath those eyelashes of his, the stability that whispers—is this the right thing to do?

It’s not rough, it’s not stern, it’s not Yoongi coded—it’s anything but. Gentleness is what you detect, free of any prejudice.

You sigh. Millions of thoughts about how you could toy with them pass through your mind, but you decide against them, the stability a pillar that blends into your spine, helping it unbend. You can’t do this; you can’t do this to Yoongi and you need to keep your dignity intact in some way, despite the fact that every fiber of your body compels you to do the opposite. You distract yourself by screwing the lid of your body butter back on.

“Good girl,” Yoongi coos, causing you to whisk your eyes to the screen in perhaps disbelief, shame or your still pending arousal—you’re not sure. How can you be a good girl when you let another man see something so lewd? How can your boyfriend validate something like that? “One more beer and I’ll be home. Wait for me on the bed. As you are.”

Naked.

Heat rushes to your cheeks, to the surface of every part of your skin, dragging away small ounces of shame. You curse, mentally, running a hand down your face. Yoongi downs his drink without taking his gaze off of you, watching your reaction, adds once he swallows, “and don’t touch yourself.”

And with that, he hangs up.

The harsh comprehension of what the fuck just happened envelops you in a confining embrace, the precipitately increasing weight of shame now a burden on your shoulders that you just can’t shake off, even when you slink your arms through sleeves of your silky robe and welcome in the summer breeze coming to caress your face on the balcony—even when you burst your lighter to a flame and light up your cigarette, inhaling the smoke that you hoped would rid you of its such uncomfortable hold around you.

You licked your cum clean under the gape of a guy you don’t know in front of your boyfriend.

His friend heard the order. Don’t touch yourself. Yoongi didn’t whisper it. Didn’t camouflage his words in any way. Uttered them straight and bare, allowing his friend to hear them, despite the fact he almost fought him then and there for sneaking one glance at your moderately naked form.

Question marks hover in your mind and the pulse on your clit cries, seemingly knowing the answer.

Did Yoongi like it as much as you did, the aspect of having an audience?

The wetness in your heat dribbles out, staining your thighs. You squeeze them together, the drag of your cigarette hard and long, expecting to feel your nerves burn off. You gain no such thing—no relief, no lifting of the burden, just constricting tangles in your tummy, zippy spasms of butterflies going mad, mad, mad.

Perhaps Yoongi didn’t like it at first until he perceived the auspicious debauched look on your face. Saw the way you didn’t hesitate to oblige him when he told you to stick your finger in your mouth. And perhaps the fact that you didn’t express any signal of discomfort was the key to unfastening the leash on his possessiveness over you.

What have you done? What have you so selfishly and disgustingly done?

You hang your head in your hands, the white smoke intertwining with the burden on your shoulders and pressing down harder on you.

That’s why he let his friend hear the command. Don’t touch yourself. He saw the way you indulged in it, and that awakened his liking for it.

Yoongi lied when he said he’d have one more beer.

By the time you hear the thunder of his voice, all the roses in your garden have wilted, leaving faded, withered petals in its wake—leaving a path of your internal battle all around the apartment for Yoongi to follow. You’ve paced, your bare feet stepping on them. Tried to untangle yourself from the incarceration of your mind by chain-smoking, but to no avail. The only change that took place in your body was the decline of your shame, for you couldn’t help but imagine what could have happened, had you let free rein to your desire—had those round eyes never looked at you with such purity. You figured there wasn’t anything bad about letting your imagination be colored like that, and so you sat on your boyfriend’s couch, cigarette switched to a coconut-flavored vape, and dreamed.

You dreamed about those two men being of service to you, right here on the same couch, where they would lay you down and make you squirt over and over again, betting between each other who could make you come the fastest, counting down your orgasms until the number was a mere blur to you.

The throb on your clit heightened to heavenly levels and when you emerged from your dream, you found yourself being able to breathe—your momentary disappearance tricking your shame into leaving. It was difficult for you not to touch yourself and you opted to adhere to Yoongi’s wish, not risking to feel worse than you already had.

The war ended, undeterred by the fact you never expected it to.

Loud swear words roar in Korean. You rise to your feet to open the front door for Yoongi and you discover that he’s not alone at all.

The same pair of round eyes, the cause of all the ruckus you just departed from, meet yours, hauling you back there with a force. Your mouth falls agape and before you can react any further, Yoongi stumbles into you. You almost topple over, realizing you didn’t care to steal a glance at the state of him, but the male grabs a hold of Yoongi’s jacket and pulls him back. You wish you had tumbled over and the floor had opened up and swallowed you whole. It would have been less embarrassing than to be stuck in this situation. You want to run, you want to scream—

“He’s drunk out of his own mind,” the male says, his voice deep like the warm wind before a tumultuous storm, fitting just right with the thunder of Yoongi’s intonation, his gaze wandering over the entirety of your shock-stricken face, taking it in; giving you the same attention that fucked you up hours ago. Yoongi begins to mumble something you can’t momentarily focus on, his hands grasping your waist, lips latching onto your neck. No, you cannot for the life of you focus because the man steals you all over again and you hate how easy it is for him to do that, when you’re far from being available. “Don’t ask what made him drink this much.”

Did Yoongi get drunk because he let his friend in on your most intimate moment?

Humiliated, turned on and angry altogether, a concoction that simply worsens everything, you draw back from your boyfriend. You want to beat at his chest with your fists just to have some sort of relief from blaming him—because if you blame yourself, only doom consumes you. Why did he call you? Or, essentially, why didn’t he step away to take that damned video call?

“Thanks for walking him home,” you say eventually, your voice smooth, despite the violence of your feelings, despite wanting to say something else entirely. Your first words to him and, wholeheartedly—despite it all, you hope they aren’t last, even if that possibly makes you a despicable person.

Yoongi’s friend nods. Chews his bottom lip and lowers his gaze to the ground for a split second. You wonder if he feels the need to remove himself from this uncomfortable situation as much as you do because you can’t read anything in that paleness of his countenance. Not a hint of any emotion whatsoever, just blandness of expression, slightly dimmed by the few thick strands of black hair that have fallen from his disheveled, pushed back mullet. As if they did fight after all, perhaps on the way home, or wrestled if Yoongi was being difficult.

You don’t realize you and the male are just staring at each other until Yoongi places his hand on your cheek, brushing back a wisp of your tresses. Only then do your eyes flick to Yoongi’s and you finally notice him, the gloss in his hooded irises searching and searching for you, the rosy blush on his cheeks, dry parted mouth and the dart of his tongue as he wets it, softening the flecks that have been created there.

This is it. If you are focused on him, all things are made right—all things that have been stained get purified and dreams get turned into dust. This is the man you’ve fallen for, who puts you before himself and has done so every day since the moment he made you his. You can’t let anyone else get in the way of the home that your relationship has become, you can’t let your feelings flee—

“For the record,” Yoongi’s friend starts, hand massaging circles on the nape of his neck, the leather of his jacket tight around his arm. Your heart jumps and beats against your chest ferociously. “I didn’t see anything, if that helps you sleep better tonight.”

It’s such a fat lie and you’re about to shake your head, but then he looks at you with such sincere regret that, ultimately, you choose to believe him. Just to keep your peace of mind unscarred.

Yoongi tightens his hold around your waist, which grounds you, and a small part of you begins to bloom in healing, disseminating little by little across your whole body.

A healer with big, round eyes. A good man.

With a swing, Yoongi closes the door but you don’t hear the click. No, the light spills in from the hallway. Your hands reach for the doorknob but Yoongi blocks them and wraps them around his waist while swaying on his feet. He traces the shell of your ear with his lips, his alcohol-reeking breath wafting over you, and softly, you whine his name. Shuffling beyond the door, feet never entirely moving—the male is still standing outside and he hears as Yoongi hums at your call, as the sound grows into a groan at the feeling of being alone with you at last, at the feeling of all that makes you feminine under his hands. He hears your gasp as Yoongi pushes your chest flush to his body, kisses you harshly and cups your bare pussy. Hears the smack of your mouths, the pop once he withdraws, the squelch of your wetness. Hears as Yoongi murmurs, “you been horny, baby? Wet for me, hm?”

It’s those words that make him shut the door for you.

You made Yoongi drink a lot of water.

And while he downed the glasses, you ordered him Thai food from his phone, which he now devours. You had wanted to change out of your flimsy robe into your plush pajamas, but Yoongi stopped you with a tight grip on your shoulder and with the nastiest puppy eyes he could manage, considering his plastered state, he begged you not to. Informed you that he wanted to fuck you in your little robe and you told him that if he wanted that, he needed to get sober.

He’s your boyfriend and you trust him, but you don’t feel comfortable having sex with him while he’s wasted and you’re not. It’s a dangerous territory you don’t ever want to cross.

So, now he eats as quietly as a mouse, feeding you every other bite with his chopsticks, meanwhile you’re jittering your leg with your arms crossed across your chest, mind full of the male who walked him home. Of the way he pulled you under and resurfaced with you soon after. Of the calm peace you feel all over the perimeter of your mind that peculiarly stresses you out. Of what would happen if you voiced your little dream to Yoongi, especially.

Was it out of the question or would he consider it?

Your leg jitters harder.

You want to tell him, badly. Seeing his friend in real life changed fucking everything. If you hadn’t, you would’ve forgotten about it in the days to come. Yoongi would’ve fucked it out of you in most probability. But those eyes… those eyes got under your skin.

“Stop fidgeting,” Yoongi scolds with his mouth full of food, no hint of slurring. The hot meal and hydration worked a miracle. “You’re making me nervous.”

He picks up two cut pieces of chicken with his chopsticks and stuffs your mouth, adding a few pieces of vegetables as you’re chewing. Watches you swallow it, noticing how your eyes are focused on nothing in particular on the other side of the room. Tucking his utensils under his palm, he places his hand on your thigh, halting your restless motion.

You still won’t look at him. Too lost in the overthinking maze, debating whether you should speak or remain quiet about your desire. A strong part of you fears his reaction and the other half is horrified at the possibility of being turned down—

Yoongi takes his hand away. Props it on his cheek.

“I can see your pussy from here,” he says, licking his lips. “You’ve shaved?”

You breathe a soft laugh, turning your head to face him, covering yourself with the small fabric. Dark, but tender eyes, void of any glossiness, awake and stirred—amused. Cheeks awash with color. Lips puffy, a dark tinge of red coating them. A sturdy fist on his cheek, the milky jawline underneath. That messy hair, the slicked-back look ruined by the constant rake of his fingers through them, now falling to the side from the middle. That slender body, clad in the night from head to toe—legs outstretched under the table. So fine, so delicious. A beautiful strong man—all yours. Why do you want another one?

You slide your leg across his thighs and Yoongi slouches in his seat, discarding his chopsticks.

“I shaved everything,” you respond, cocking your brow at him—a sly invitation for him to feel its smoothness.

And he does. Runs his hand up and down your skin. Goes as far as lifting your other leg onto his lap, cradling them both, thumb caressing your calf. The movement causes your robe to expose you again and, cursing the fabric, you go to cover yourself, but Yoongi stops you.

“Don’t bother,” he mutters. “I wanna look at it.”

You raise your brows altogether, looking up at him. “You wanna look at her?”

Yoongi smirks. That dangerous tug of one corner of his mouth to the side. Your death, your undoing, the root of your submission to him. “I want to have her at my disposal.”

You gulp and Yoongi catches it, chuckling. Drifts his hand down your calf, to your heel, to the middle of your foot up to your toes. He plays with your pinky. You note the fact he changed the pronoun after you did.

Your arousal returns at full speed.

“Did that make you wet?” Low, low is his voice—you feel it prodding at your core, thrumming vehemently.

You blossom like your roses, thoughts put to the side.

“I’ve been wet this entire time,” you say, zeroing in your gaze on the flick of dimness that whirls past his eyes. “For hours.”

He makes a sound of pitiful nature. “Poor baby.” Furrows his brows and juts his bottom lip out, making you weak. Lets his hand roam on your thigh. “So you listened? You didn’t touch yourself?”

You merely nod your head quickly. You were too distressed to give your body the pleasure it sought. Too busy flaring your lungs with the burn of smoke. And you respected his wish enough to keep your hands to yourself.

Yoongi coos. “Good girl.”

A flashback—your lips wrapping around your slick-coated finger, Yoongi praising you and… another pair of eyes watching. Chills spread across your arms, your stomach flipping. Thankfully, your shame is kept at bay. It relieves you.

“Can I feel how wet you are?”

A sweet, devious smile. “If you can manage to get to her.”

You press your thighs tightly together. Yoongi looks at you as if you’ve greatly offended him and alas, he turns your chair so you face him head-on. Forces your thighs apart without any strain at all—and there you feel it, the embarrassment of fucking with him, once your pussy is at complete disposal to him just like he wanted.

“If your pussy wasn’t so pretty, I’d make you regret your words,” he purrs, eyes fixed on your drenched flesh, hands pushing your thighs back until your knees are at level with your shoulders, folds parting with the movement, revealing more of you. Yoongi wets his mouth with his tongue.

He thumbs your gleaming lips back and forth, collecting your essence, mesmerized by them. Looks at you intently.

“It wouldn’t hurt to say sorry, though,” he says, narrowing his eyes at you. “Would it?”

You grin at him. “Sorry, Yoongi.”

He rubs your swollen clit in slow circles, still with his bedewed thumb, still with his eyes on you. You choke out a moan at the delight permeating through your being. “That’s not the proper way to apologize, now is it?”

You lean your pelvis into his touch, a natural body reaction unfolding. He disapproves. You scrunch your face. “What should I say?”

Yoongi tuts. “I’m barely touching you and you already forgot your manners?”

The only answer you emit is an uncouth whine.

He shakes his head, putting pressure into his circles for a mere beat of time before he slaps your pussy curtly. A vivid spasm of pleasure fills you and you moan. “Needy girl. Don’t I take care of this pussy enough? What’s this behavior?”

Another whine. A roll of your body, asking for more of his touch. “Spank her again.”

A cock of his brow. Harsh, stern, evil. His hand remains propped on his thigh, shoulders hunched. “I didn’t hear you say please. You wanna be bad? You want me to make you cry?”

You know just how much he’s capable of doing that. You shake your head ‘no’. You want gentleness, the kind you saw in his friend’s eyes—

You flutter your own shut to get rid of that thought. Take a deep breath.

“Spank my pussy again, please.”

Yoongi massages the apex of your thigh, dangerously close to your cunt, squeezing the flesh every once in a while.

“Apologize first.”

“You didn’t tell me how.”

He clicks his tongue and pinches your folds and your clit between his fingers. You cry out, and then Yoongi gets up to his feet, leaning over you, propping his hand on the back of your chair. He begins to swiftly spank your pussy over and over again. You just jump at every contact, moaning, eyes flicked to his, never breaking apart. Taking it, taking it so well that Yoongi kisses you nastily, licking into your mouth. Then, he grunts. Fingers flat against your clit, he moves them from side to side. Roses, a myriad of them, flood your form with their freshness and dewiness, with their beauty and delectation and you shudder, you scream, you arch your back off of the backrest—

“Say, ‘I’m sorry, Yoongi. I’m such a bad girl that I deserve every spank and I’ll take it until it hurts.”

Flabbergasted and horny beyond measure, your mouth falls agape. Your brain turns into mush, the pleasure paralyzing you, your sounds now loud and obscene, the roses in you flitting, growing and murmuring. Yoongi adds more pressure to your clit and your eyes sink back into your head, his darkness wafting over to you, seeping into your skin—now completely yours.

You repeat after him—word for word. With a simper on your face that causes him to scowl at you, as if you dared to toy with your punishment he bestowed upon you. But then, a tongue prods the inside of his cheek and he laughs, taking a hold of his dominant role and making sure you know. He spanks your clit twice in a row, hands lifting to fondle your nipples.

“Good,” he praises. “You like that, don’t you? Spanks on your pussy?”

You don’t like that softness. Like the personified thunder he is, it is the calm before the storm. It unnerves you, the expectation of what might come next and your disliking of it. Nonetheless, you brim with the craving to have his fingers inside of you. Your hole clenches at that and Yoongi notices, hissing under his breath. The language of the darkness rises on your tongue and you figure that if you let loose, you’ll get your wish fulfilled.

“Yeah, it feels so good—” He pinches your nipples between his knuckles and you mewl, your lashes shaking at the impact, another set of wetness coating your folds. “Please, fuck me with your fi—”

You don’t even get to finish your sentence. Yoongi plunges his middle finger into your heat, cursing at your tightness, at how slippery you are and at the delight of being filled at last, you knit your brows. With his other finger, he traces the outline of your puckered mouth, his breathing hard and ragged.

“I’ll do anything for that pout of yours, fuck, no matter if you deserve it or not,” he utters, slipping the digit inside. Instinctively, you suck on it and only then does Yoongi begin to pump you slowly. “You just need a little roughness to be good, don’t you?”

Dumbly, you nod, swirling your tongue around him, but a faint, silenced part of you begs for the gentleness that you know hides somewhere deep inside his chest, never once unfurled during such intimate times.

You pay it no matter, too fucked out to think.

When he adds a second finger into your heat, he does the same thing with his other hand. Two fingers in your cunt, two fingers in your mouth. And he fucks you with both until you gag and a light flashes in his eyes—then, he withdraws all together, leaning against the table, his bedewed fingers coming to rest at his hardened length in his pants.

Roses, opening. Roses, sighing.

You breathe heavily, needing to finish, needing to have him in your mouth—

“You liked being the center of attention today?” he husks, surveying your whole body, bent in half.

There it is—the storm. Just what you expected. Cold sweat dribbles down your spine. And it is fear, what you feel, even when you refuse to admit it. Stiff, tempered fear that pervades each and every vein on your body, regarding being possibly degraded, being made feel dirty—regarding, even, tasting the dark wine of his wrath.

Such a stark, sudden change.

You don’t want this. You don’t want any of it.

Abruptly, an internal question comes and pokes you in the middle of your forehead.

Will you succumb to it or will you, with the wildly fresh darkness within you, fight against it?

You take a deep breath, and in with the air also follows, with the little rationality you have amidst the sensuality of your lecherous appetite, the decision to take a hold of it all. To take charge. Just like he did.

You shall prioritize yourself. Your feelings, your desires—your roses.

Your choice envelops your fear in bubble wrap. It doesn’t dissipate. And as much as it pains you, you take a mental note of that.

“I did,” you spit out, angered by the fact you’re afraid of your boyfriend, and so you stand your ground. “It made me so fucking needy and I want more.”

The relief that hits you almost causes you to weep and you lower your legs to the ground. Not wanting him to see the film of tears clouding your eyes, you avoid his gaze. Yoongi crosses his arms across his chest and clicks his tongue at you, disapproving.

“Keep your legs where they belong.”

“No.”

A lift of his brow. He crouches down to your level and cradles your face in his hand, forcing you to look at him. And there he sees, under the waterfall of your hair, your emotions at his disposal. Yoongi studies you, frowns at you and you want to sob, you want to go home. Shame slithers towards your spine like a ghost, and although it keeps a distance, you feel its presence prickling your back. You cover your cleavage.

“Why are you crying?” Yoongi asks, a silky murmur, eyes flicking between yours. His fingers don’t caress your skin; they merely hold you firmly, making dents in the skin.

You don’t trust that voice, dismayed by what might lie under.

“Why did you do that to me?” you ask in return, and it’s a blue fire shooting out, engulfing the room in stifling heat. You catch a glimpse of its sparks in the dimness of his eyes, of how he’s momentarily stricken by it before it folds beneath the shadows.

“You want to get fucked by someone else?”

A question for a question.

You swallow down the lump in your throat, caused by your frustration.

Your devotion to him didn’t let you go as far as to imagine being fucked by his friend while Yoongi watched, but the brief flash of it in your mind is enough incentive for the heat to spill into you, mingling with the darkness, turning you candescent, traveling through you until it finds your core—and there, it stays. There, it finds home.

The pulse on your clit returns, filling you with abrupt energy.

There’s something about him coming up with it that makes you unhinged, but you’re so utterly sick of the instability of your feelings. You need it to stop.

“And what if I do?” you retort. “What will you do?”

Truthfulness, at last.

Yoongi takes in a sharp inhale of breath, and that is the only reaction you receive from him. Nothing else on his face flickers; no wrath, no sliver of jealousy, not one thing. You stare at an empty canvas, ready for you to paint on. And you simply decide that you want to start.

You push his hand away from your face. Stand up to your feet. But the hardened look he gives you inclines you to sit back down.

You fight against it.

Untangling the knot on your robe, you let him see your bare femininity. The perkiness of your breasts, the long dip of your stomach that he likes to pepper kisses on. Yes, you’re aiming for his weakness.

And you decide to repeat history.

You reach your hand down, lower and lower while he stares you down, and you collect your glimmering essence. Sinking your finger into your mouth, you make a show of rolling your eyes back and moaning faintly, softly. Your other hand, in the meantime, unbuttons his pants.

The breath Yoongi inhaled hitches in his throat.

“Is this not evidence enough?” you purr, dragging down his zipper. “How else am I supposed to show you?”

You pull his manhood out as you suck on your finger, all while maintaining eye contact. You don’t touch him beyond that. In fact, you withdraw your hand altogether.

And then, you collect your essence again.

This time, you smear it across his bottom lip. Yoongi lets you. Your heart thuds, threatening to jump out of your chest.

“Your actions during the video call told me everything,” you whisper, catching the sliver of wooziness scattering along his narrowed eyes. “And I think you liked it more than me—the thought of sharing me. You can’t hide it. Not when I saw it.”

Yoongi growls. Then, he surprises you.

He parts his lips for you.

And the contact of the pad of your finger with his wet tongue coaxes a string of your dewiness to drip down the side of your thigh. You moan for him. Relieved, fucked up, woozy just the same. Finally, finally, finally.

You’re in charge. And it feels divine.

His length twitches against the fabric of his T-shirt. Long, hard, drooling. Such a delight for you—and so you continue.

“I also think it made you hard. Not just because you called me when I was touching myself, but because your friend was right there beside you,” you purr, your voice a seductive sound of silk—leading him to wrap his lips around your digit. You moan for him, showing him how much you like that. “Isn’t that right, baby?” Your walls clench at the pet name, solely due to the fact that these soft terms of endearment have always been addressed to you, never the other way around. It thrills you. “I’d always be devoted to you, even if he fucked me. I’d look at you the entire time. If that’s what you want. I had a different idea, but yours is just—” you pause, and again you make a show of sighing and rolling your eyes back, “better.”

A straight hit to his core. A glee for you.

But you don’t realize how much you fucked up until Yoongi grips your waist and the hold hurts enough that you wince.

And then—then he manhandles you.

Lifting you and laying you down on the table, Yoongi spreads your legs. Watches you drip, watches as the satiny fabric follows the movement of your limbs and reveals you in all your entirety. He pulls you closer to him with a sharp tug until you collide with the tops of his thighs. Bends over you. Hovers his lips above yours. You expect him to kiss you—he even angles his head and rubs the side of his nose against yours—but he never does.

He only leaves you waiting. Leaves you submitted to your empty expectations, taking charge, taking his control back from you. You shiver in anticipation, reaching for him, however he pins your hands down on either side of you. An angel in a rose garden.

Yoongi chuckles, darkly, his teeth glinting in the yellow light. You fight against his hold, hips rolling against the underside of his length, beckoning him to do something, anything. You merely manage to prolong the thunder of his laughter.

“One cock isn’t enough for her, so baby wants two,” he spits. That smirk, the crinkles around his eyes—he’s enjoying this. The hint of degradation doesn’t reflect what’s swarming inside of him, doesn’t reflect the face of pleasure coursing down his body. You smile and he scoffs. “I have enough friends for you to choose from in case you want more. I think you’d be stellar at taking three cocks. Four, even, huh? Would you have enough then? One in your tight little virgin ass, two in your cunt, one down your throat?”

You gulp, frozen, eyes widening.

Yoongi bites his shiny lips, nudging the tip of his nose against yours. Kisses you once. Begins to rock his hips, his length sliding across your wet fleshiness. The moan that escapes your throat trembles with each delicious motion.

“You watch too much porn, honey,” he coos, giving you tiny kisses on the mouth. “I’d kill anyone who would come near this pussy. And I’d kill Jungkook, too, if he so much as glanced at her.”

So that’s his name. You mewl, knitting your brows. That’s his pretty name. The entirety of your form shivers at the discovery, at the pleasure given to your throbbing clit.

Yoongi pulls back, setting your hands free.

You prop your elbows on the table, pouting. Yoongi grasps his length, spreads his arousal and begins to jerk himself off.

“You’re not fucking Jungkook. You’re mine.” He groans, squeezing his tip; your hole clenches. “Rub your clit.”

Like him, you spread your arousal on your seashell, the arousal long caused by his presence and now the mention of his name—the reason behind your frustration and his, the reason why you’re spread on the dining table, why your boyfriend is hard. You rub your clit from side to side, amused.

“No,” Yoongi disapproves, knowing you do the motion when you want to prolong the build-up. “Circles. Make yourself come.”

You change direction, obeying him. A sly grin blossoms on your lips, dark eyes looking up into his, permeating them, permeating into his soul. You pick up the pace, moaning into your expression of elation.

“Jungkook is such a pretty name,” you provoke and you heighten your sounds in volume and intensity just to piss him off, just to have your way.

A grunt escapes him, matching your pace. He wraps his fingers around your throat and squeezes. You hum.

“A pretty name to moan in my opinion.” A layer of sweat coats your body. Yoongi grasps your jawline firmly and your satisfied laughter inches you closer to your orgasm. You feel the hot flashes, roses surrounding you—its tender petals grazing your feverish skin. You give in, watching Yoongi do the same, his mouth in a tight line, hissing and sizzling, an open fire, an open fire you want to be radiated by, burned whole by. “Just imagine him here, watching us. Oh my god, imagine him knowing he’s the reason why you and I are doing this.”

Yoongi has had enough.

He pushes you down harshly. Fills your hole to the hilt without letting you adjust, observing himself disappearing inside of you and begins to pound you into the table. The sound of skin slapping, the hard and quick strokes, the ravaged grunts he lets out, the fast change—it all takes your breath away, so much that you can’t, in fact, breathe. He grabs your face and makes you look at him. The dead of the night captured in his features, you absorb it, whining like the brat you are onto his mouth, mingling into your noises your approval, your yes’.

Swallowing it, he kisses you, keeping his eyes open. “He could never fuck you like this.”

You laugh. He swallows that, too, moaning. “What if he could?”

He taps you on the cheek, a warning, giving you an exceptionally hard stroke that causes you to scream. He pauses. Does it again. Over and over—and your screams echo across the room, your own soul slipping out of your body. Petals flutter against you and you’re done for, hanging off the edge. You’re close, so terribly close. Your eyesight blurs and Yoongi pulls out entirely and rams into you. Again and again, abusing your cervix.

You moan his name, gone—entirely gone.

“Yes, moan my name like that. Just mine,” he mutters. “Who’s fucking you this good? Who’s gonna make you come?”

He rams into you more rapidly than before. Your senses leave you until all that you know is Yoongi. His name, his scent, the wholeness of the night encompassing him.

“You, Yoongi, you. Fuck, I—”

Yoongi laughs maniacally. “Yes, that’s right. That’s my good girl.”

He rolls his hips, slowing down the coming of your orgasm, owning you. Lets your senses come back to you momentarily. You swallow, your throat dry and you blink, dazed still. Yoongi kisses you, giving you all that he took from you.

“Who’s only capable of fucking you like this, honey, hm?” he asks, his voice tender and sing-song. “My pretty honey, so fucked out. So out of it.”

You whine and you don’t control what comes out of you, your body answering for you. “You, Yoongi. You’re fucking me so—so good. I can’t—fuck. You’re the only one.”

He smiles down at you fondly, kissing your nose, then your lips, parting your mouth and swirling his tongue around yours briefly. Then he withdraws, begins to fuck you again, slowly, reaching to the side for something.

Once you see his phone in his hand, your heart stops. And when he puts the device to his ear, your throat dries up even more. You suddenly become aware of the silence all around, especially in your chest. You can’t breathe, you can’t blink—

Yoongi jackhammers into you, purposefully luring your loud noises out of you. “My girlfriend wants to fuck you.”

You gasp, squeezing your eyes shut, the suddenness, the quickness of pleasure you haven’t yet felt piercing you. Fuck hot flashes and petals, you feel a heavy urge of your orgasm closing down on you.

“She’s so desperate for you, even when I’m fucking the life out of her.”

You flutter your eyes open to see Yoongi surveying you. You scrunch your face—so close, so fucking close—and then he puts the phone to your ear. Breathing, hard, ragged breathing fills all of your senses and you come.

It’s an explosion. Roses bursting, their dew soaking you and Yoongi whole and you exit. You exit out of this situation, this world, this universe while your soul remains here with them. Vibrancy, colors so beautiful and sensations so vivid, ardent and fierce. You don’t know what it is you’re feeling or where you are. That is, until Yoongi’s voice yanks you back to planet Earth, back into this world, this situation—back to them.

“In fact, she just came for you. Squirted.”

You sob. Overstimulated, rhapsodic, but effulgent. Yes, you emit light and glow. You can see it in Yoongi’s softened eyes.

“Think about it. No pressure. Just know she won’t shut up about you. I recall her saying your name would be pretty to moan while she played with her pussy. I think it’s only right you fuck it out of her.”

With that, he hangs up.

You brim with so many emotions that it numbs you. Happy tears flow out of your tear ducts—and happily, endearingly, Yoongi chortles. You don’t even feel humiliation or shame. On the contrary, you’re ready to come again.

Yoongi kisses you and the sounds he slips into your mouth divulge how happy he is about this, how pleased he is with himself.

You pout, burning your eyesight into his. He begins to rut into you.

“What, you’re not even gonna thank me?” he says, grinning, as if he wasn’t fucking you at all, as if you two were still sitting at the dinner table, conversing.

You stammer, head empty, silencing yourself and trying again. “What—what made you change your mind?”

Yoongi places open-mouthed, wet kisses along the bone of your jaw, and there he seals his answer. “I made up my mind the moment you admitted you wanted to be fucked by him, but you wouldn’t shut up about him. I wanted to hear you babble for me. About me. I just had to mess you up to get to that point.”

You mewl, running your hands through his sweat-slicked hair. Like a cat, he perks up to your touch, lifting his head, angling it. He kisses you, deeply. Kisses your relief.

“Where are your manners, hm?” he whispers onto your mouth, giving you hard strokes that erase your vocabulary. You want to make him come and so you push against his thrusts, but to no avail. The intensity won’t allow you.

“Thank you, Yoongi,” you murmur, cradling his face, pecking him, giving him the softest eyes you could muster so you can show him how much it means to you.

He approves of your effort on bettering your manners and to reward you, he lifts you up and fucks you in the air. Your breasts bounce against the material of his T-shirt, stimulating you and he alters between jackhammering into you and sliding you up and down on his length. Your pussy squelches around his girth, tightening and Yoongi—

Yoongi loses his mind.

And it’s him who begins to babble when you snap your hips down on him in circles.

“Just like that, honey, oh fuck. So good, so good for me.”

He takes it until his sounds grow in volume and you focus so much on his pleasure that you forget about yours.

But you don’t let him take charge.

“Let me fuck you, please, Yoongi. I wanna make you come.”

Just like you, he’s out of it and because of that, because you asked so nicely, he lets you.

His chest heaves, staccatos of his choked out breaths sail through the room and you can see it on his face that he’s close. Brows furrowed, bottom lip bleeding due to the way he bites hard on it, the way his mouth pops open and his eyes flutter closed.

You hold onto his neck with your dear life.

“Look at me,” you demand and swirl your hips in slow circles around his tip. “I want you to look at me when you come.”

You’re so stunned that he allows you to be in charge, even more when he truly does open his eyes and pierces his gaze into yours.

“I need to pull out,” he breathes, but you shake your head, snapping your hips down on him harshly.

“No, I want your cum in me. And I want it to be inside of me when Jungkook fucks me.”

Yoongi grunts and this is it for him. His cock twitches in you, over and over again and then you feel it—the hot, thick ropes of his cum stuffing you full. You’re so mesmerized by the feeling, by the blissfulness evident on his face, by the smoothness between his brows at last that you can’t even milk him dry. You’re frozen, stupefied by his beauty, by his personal rapture and you want to feel it in unity with him. You kiss him.

It’s him who fucks him cum into you, burying it deep, moaning into your lip lock.

It’s him who lays you down to your original position and briefly, feebly licks the sheen on your spread lips before devouring your clit.

It’s him who gives you the fastest orgasm of your life.

And it’s him who tells you—in the shower—the story of how he almost beat up Jungkook black and blue once he heard him say how pretty you are.

And it’s you who checks up on him.

“You sure you’re okay with this?”

You’re stroking his hair in the bed, the duvet heavy and warm around your body and his, the night overflowing into morning—Yoongi, too.

He’s falling asleep, but still conscious, still here with you, purring.

“I wouldn’t be waking him up in the middle of the night if I wasn’t,” he whispers, opening his eyes to look at you, to see you enveloped in the extra blanket of the dawn’s rosy light—glowing, throwing the sun off of its throne. “Poor guy just got out of the military and you’ve already rocked his world.”

You smile, fondly, thumb caressing his temple. Yoongi hums in appreciation.

“I’m happy for him he’s getting pussy—one that’s mine. Before he enlisted, he spent all his time painting and getting drunk alone,” he pauses in a thought, blinking at the light. “You still want this?”

You nod, settling into his chest. Yoongi pulls you closer, tucking the duvet into the lines of your form, bringing in comfort and sleepiness.

“I’ll make sure you have the time of your life. I’ll be here the whole time, taking care of you,” he promises against your hair and you squeeze him.

“He hasn’t said yes, though. He could turn me down.”

“I’ve seen the way he looked at you. You have nothing to fear. He’ll come to you like a puppy.”

Yoongi sinks the promise onto the plane of your forehead and holds you as you drift to sleep. Happy, relieved, steamed off of all the negative things you went through. It evaporates into the dawn—far, far away from you.

BACK to masterlist / READ part two

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justadeadreaper · 2 months

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okay so I'm curious- puptrapping you say? That you'd need another post to go into? I'd like to encourage this please

Puptrapping?

You want to hear about puptrapping, you say?

Anon, your wish is my command.

Just so you know, this is like you encouraging a crack addict by finding them a new dealer. I am not joking because this is my obsession at this point, but I do encourage you to send in more asks about Omega!Makarov or ideas you want me to write about because I will. I never originally thought of puptrapping; instead, it was my dear friend @frogchiro who said that she thought he would based on a comment I made about him tying you down to make sure you cum in him. Also, do thank @frogchiro because she helped me form these ideas in our late-night rants, and she is my biggest encourager.

Now that I have written this, I am tempted to write about Omega!Makarov with pups or a fic based on this idea if anyone wants it.

Obvious warnings for puptrapping (omegaverse version of babytrapping) and all the shit that goes with it, Omega!Makarov spiking your drink with an omegaverse version of Viagra (that sounds so fucking weird), but also a big misunderstanding between Omega!Makarov and reader.

This whole idea is based on it being a misunderstanding. Omega!Makarov is a feared man; no one even knows he is an omega; you were only allowed that grace of knowledge due to being his alpha -specifically chosen for being the most desired for your size and strength-. Knowing how secretive he was about his second gender, you presumed that he would never want pups as it would reveal his identity to the world, and he could not have that, could he? Hell, you did not even think he loved you; he only used you to satisfy his natural instincts that come with being an omega so that he would not be on a constant edge from having his subconscious desires not be fulfilled. You enforced the rule around using some form of protection as you did not want to force or pressure him into having pups that he would never want in a million years.

But oh, you poor, dumb alpha. How wrong could you be?

Omega!Makarov is infatuated with you. As soon as he saw you, he knew that you had to be his; no one else would be able to satisfy him after he saw you. Yes, he may be a cruel, heartless man but he loves you in his own special way and let me tell you he loves you with all his heart! He genuinely does! Now, being that he loves you so much, it is only natural that he wants your pups; it is only made worse by him being an omega and having the natural instincts to breed and have pups that poor omegas like him have. He knew he wanted pups from a young age, even if he knew that he did not love like a normal person does. Another part of him wanting to have pups is his own relationship with his father. A narcissistic, bullheaded alpha that abused Makarov and his poor brother for being omegas, Makarov had to watch as his poor mother was abused for not giving that asshole the alpha sons he desperately wanted. His father was never nice to him; he was a horrid father who chickened out at the last minute instead of suffering the consequences of his actions. Makarov does not want to be like that; he instead wants to be the best father he can be and have as many pups as he can to shove it to the old man who damaged him so much, to embrace the one thing his father abused him for and always forced him to hide.

So, for you to say that you need to use birth control? That is the biggest insult to him! Do you not love him? Do you not think he is a good enough omega to have your pups? Are you just using him to get yourself off? Are you planning on just dropping him off one day? Why do you not feel like him? He wants your pups so badly, why do you not want to give them to him?

He damn near hissed at you for suggesting such a thing, but he decided to hold his tongue as he knows he will get his way, he always has.

Now it just. depends on what type of birth control you force him to use for what he does to still be able to have your pups.

Condoms? Expect every single one to have multiple puncture holes from the set of pins that used to belong to his mother. Small enough for you not to notice but just big enough to allow enough cum to come through to give him a nice litter of pups. But that is only if you are stupid enough to allow him to be the only one to supply the condoms or allow him to be around the box by himself for longer than two minutes. If you buy them and never let him near them, you can be sure that those things will rip because, for some reason, your knot was a lot bigger than it normally is causing the condom to rip.

Birth control? He is lying about being on it. The prescription he showed you was a fake he forced a poor pharmacist to make as the pills inside that he showed you were nothing more than sugar pills mixed with the omegaverse version of Viagra known as an Amplifa that helps people knot while also increasing their fertility that he forced the drug dealers he hires to make. Each day, he will take them in front of you, knowing that they do not work. But if you are the one to supply the pills, then he is finding any pill or herb known to man to counteract it so that the birth control fails.

The Amplifa he uses to spike your drink and his own have a few side effects. I imagine omegas to have a reverse knot to match an alpha’s knot, which means they are doubly bonded. How it works is by inflating the sides of the passage like how, for an alpha, the base inflates to lock inside; it is to make sure that the alpha is being milked of all their cum and that the omega is too tight for the alpha to pull out. Since both he and you have been spiked with it, it causes your knot to inflate beyond the point of it being pulled out while he is too tight that it hurts to try and pull out. It also makes the knots last for hours upon hours instead of the normal half an hour to an hour, as it makes you cum so much. Not to mention it makes you incredibly more horny so you could fuck for longer.

With everything prepared, he has sex with you.

Once you are close to cumming he leg locks you making sure you can not push him off as you cum. Your knot inflating inside him as he milks you dry, all while he is still moving his hips in a specific motion to cause more friction that stimulates you and makes you hard yet again. Wiggling his hips and whining as you have yet another orgasm while the two of you are stuck together as his reverse knot will just not let go. Watching as his tummy begins to form a bump already as it grows from how much cum you have stuffed inside of it with every orgasm. He puts on the “I’m innocent, I swear!” act; he uses all the manipulation tactics he knows, the fake tears, the lies, the everything. He is just a simple omega who was trying to enjoy sex with his alpha; he has no idea what is going on. Whining over how worried he is since with this much cum he is most definitely already pregnant, even if you were being safe. All of this while he continues to move his hips as you cum once more.

And as soon as you are asleep from exhaustion and overstimulation he is gently caressing his stomach as he purrs. He can already imagine the litter of pups he will be having in a few months and how much of a happy family you all will be...

#tw: babytrapping #tw: puptrappping #omegaverse cod #omega!makarov #omegaverse #alpha!reader #makarov x reader #call of duty #cod #vladimir makarov #cod makarov #call of duty makarov #tw: tampered protection #tw: tampered birth control #tw: drink spiking #tw: drugging

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bump1nthen1ght · 6 months

Text

A Very Monstrous Kinktober: Day 30 (Free Use)

Kinks: Free Use

Pairing: Male!Shrine God x GN!Shrine Keeper!Reader

Other Kinks: Doggy Style, Cowgirl

Warnings: Slightly Dubious Consent (Reader is subservient to the god, but has fully consented to this free use relationship)

Word Count: 1087 words

Kinktober Masterlist

A/N: I personally imagined the God character in this to look similar to Gintarou from the anime Gingitsune (though he would never treat you this way)

A lighter flicks in your hand, struggling to produce any flame. You know it has enough fluid, having refilled it not two days ago, but your thumb keeps slipping across the button.

“My l-lord, please,” You pant, sweaty hands struggling to keep a grip on the lighter, “-the incense has to be lit. Please, just wait-”

You gasp, lighter falling out of your hand as you’re forced to press it down to the ground, stopping yourself from falling face first into the temple floor. Sharp hip bones press into your backside, claws digging into the fat of your ass as your lord swivels his hips.

“I do not care about some damned incense, pet.” Your lord spanks your ass hard, his calloused paw leaving a large mark on your skin. “Nor do I care for your obstinance.” Your lord grasps onto your hips, yanking them back onto his eager cock.

A shiver runs up your spine, feeling your lord’s dick twitching inside you. The head rubs deliciously against your insides, scraping along your walls with each thrust, stretching you beyond limits.

“I don't mean to-” You yelp, your lord spanking you again.

“Yet, you don't give your lord his rightful respect.” Claws scrap along your hip, enough to leave irritated stripes on your skin. “It is your duty as shrine keeper to follow my commands, my wishes.” Your lord leans forward and grabs you by the jaw, forcing to arch your back and press against him. “And my wish is to fuck you without distraction.” Your master begins thrusting faster, wrecking your insides, a gasp tearing from your lips. “Is-” slap, “-that-” slap “understood?”

“Yes, my lord!” Your cry, nails nearly clawing into the concrete as you're overstimulated. Your lord gyrates his hips once he’s balls deep, a deep growl in his chest. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

“You are forgiven.” Your lord growls directly into your ear, leaning over your pliant body. His rough tongue licks up your neck, sharp canines dangerously close to your jugular. “Only because you are usually so good for me.”

Its true. Since coming to tend to this temple 2 months ago, you have been an exemplary shrine keeper. You follow your lord’s orders to the T, always diligent and reverent to your god. Falling to your knees when he commands, opening your legs whenever he deems fit. As his subject, your body belongs to your god, an offering he could always indulge in, a hole he could fuck whenever the urge striked him.

You knew what you were signing up for. But you can’t deny your lord’s fervent appetite has made maintaining the temple quite a challenge. You could hardly bend over to scrub the floors without your lord throwing up your robes and indulging in your hole, his covetous hands fondling you at every hour, even when the temple had visitors. The common folk could’t see your god, of course, but still! The impropriety of it all.

Even so, you could hardly complain when your lord brought you to dizzying heights of pleasure. Like right now for example.

“Unggh! How do you stay so tight?!” Your lord calls like an insult, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. “I’ve stretched you open so many times, yet you still milk my cock like a virgin sacrifice.”

“I am yours to use, master.” You pant, eyes sparkling with tears and reverence. “I hope to always satisfy you.”

“That you have, pet.” Your lords voice is a purr in your ear. “So obedient. I am rather lucky to have such a pleasant shrine keeper.”

The compliments have you buzzing in happiness, unintentionally clenching harder around your lord’s cock. He growls in your ear.

“C’mere.” He grabs you by the hips and sits himself backwards. Cock still inside you, you are tossed back onto your masters lap, his fluffy white tails now between your thighs. He deftly spins you around, your hands digging into his furry chest.

“Ride me, pet. Consider it a reward for your hard work.”

You nod, body aching and breathless, but immediately bidding to your lords will. Your hips grind down on his lap, ass throwing up and down onto his cock. You sigh as your nails clench into his fur, your God watching your debauched face with a proud smirk. The same claws that left marks now rub comfortably onto your hips, admiring the scars he left on his pet.

“Does that feel good?”

“Y-yes, my lord.” You pant, ignoring the way your thigh muscles scream.You had been gardening today and were already quite sore. But what your lord commands, you do. “Your cock is magnficiient.”

You can practically see the pride light up on your God’s face, so unbefitting of a deity. By now is usually when he lets you off the hook, grabbing your hips and bouncing you like a fleshlight. It can be a bit rough, but at least it’s a break for your poor quads.

But your lord is cocky, bolstered by the compliment, instead resting both paws behind his head. He likes hearing your heavy breaths, seeing the sweat begin to drip down your chest, your eyes clenching shut. He likes to see you work for it. The rush it gives him is incomparable.

He couldn’t have asked for a better shrine keeper, both in dedication and appearance.

“My l-lord, I’m close.”

You whine, a warning courtesy your master demands. You had expected your God to only chase his own pleasure, to use your body like a tool. But your lord seems to delight in your orgasms, insisting you tell him when yhey wrack your whole body, leave you milking his holy cock.

“Yes, my dear, I can feel it.” Your god licks his lips. “Lets cum together.”

You breathlessly nod, forcing your eyes to open, to watch your master as he likes. Like always his gaze is covetous, dark and almost…menacing.

If you were anyone else, you'd think he was a demon, not a god.

“Ohhh!”

You whine as your lord howls, uncaring of any potential passersby. His cock juts against the very edge of your hole, hips thrown up as his cum fills you to the brim. Your muscles tremble as you feel your own crescendo, feeling slowly returning to your extremities.

Your master is gracious, letting you rest on his warm chest, catching your breath. A soft paw rubs the back of your head.

“Rest, pet.” A claw massages the back of your neck. “The chores can be finished tomorrow.”

#my writing #reader insert #gender neutral reader #kinktober 2023 #kinktober #monster romance #monster x reader

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rebo-chan · 2 months

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I've been thinking about KHR's bonds. (When am I not?) And I've thought about the way that Amano likes to write bonds. You'd be pressed in this fandom to find people who don't care about at least one area of it whether that's the Vongola kids, Varia, the Arcobaleno, Kokuyo, etc. After a conversation with my best friend, I realized it's kinda interesting how Amano has somehow successfully created so many realistic bonds for such a diverse cast. Like we see so little of them, but you'd be pressed to convince the KHR fans that the funeral wreaths don't adore Byakuran.

So there's the thing right? Katekyo hitman reborn is the shonen that is 100% about the power of friendship. Like yes other shounens use it and its a meme for a reason, but they also have other stuff going on. Other motivations. Other theming. Meanwhile Tsuna growing up and becoming a better person for his friends /is/ the theme of Reborn. That is the entire motivation for the series. There's no grandiose scheme where Tsuna will save the Mafia world and be the chosen one, though the series tries to put Tsuna in this position to his chagrin.

As evidenced by the scene in Future arc, where Tsuna is unable to light his ring because he is so stressed about sending everyone back to the future and fighting this unknown powerful enemy. And so Reborn walks up and tells him "You're not a hero. Stop trying to be. It's not like you. What were you thinking about when you first lit your flame?" And he responded with "I just..wanted to protect Kyoko." Reborn satisfied with that answer then asks, "And who do you want to protect now?" And Tsuna answers with "Everyone." And then his ring lit up. That's the core to the series!! Right there!! All it ever was 403 chapters worth of these characters just wanting to protect each other.

So, in talking to my best friend, he pointed out that outside of daily life arc, these characters don't really have moments of vulnerability towards each other. Frankly, it seems the cast of KHR is allergic to being vulnerable. There aren't that many scenes of "you guys are important to me. I love you guys." Y'know stuff that tells the audience yeah these guys are close. And when Tsuna TRIES to have these moments, like with Reborn, Reborn pretends like he's asleep and doesn't hear Tsuna say that he's going to save him. Yet somehow, we all understand that these characters love each other so deeply.

And that made me realize it's all in the dialogue and actions, rather than inherent bonding moments. It's Reborn clenching his fist when Tsuna is getting gravely injured by Daemon. It's Yamamoto and Gokudera having a fight about Gokudera not being worthy of being Tsunas right hand man as Gokudera doesn't care for the other members of their family. And Gokudera never addressing this again, there's no verbal indication that Gokudera even heard Yamamotos criticism. Yet later during Merone invasion, Gokudera reaches a hand out to catch Yamamoto when they're getting separated. And later, he protects Ryoheis unconscious body as he is fighting Gamma to the death. It's Byakuran saving the funeral wreaths from their miserable lives and them protecting him even when he begins to strike them down. It's the way Mukuro runs to assist Chrome when she is in danger, or swears up and down that he is not allied with Tsuna but also feeds the Vongola information about Byakuran. It's the way Squalo refuses to cut his hair for his vow to Xanxus, or Mammon's gratitude towards Xanxus's willingness to fight for them. It's Ken ensuring that Chrome is always fed by giving her the snacks and candy they bought. These characters don't need bonding moments, their love for each other shines through their every breath and finger twitch.

And I think that's a fascinating way to write a connection on Amanos behalf. And it was done so well we can't even argue that these characters all love each other.

The way I summarized it is most characters love each other because they spend time together and improve together. KHR characters spend time together and get better together because they love each other

Anyway that's it for this one. Please let me know any dialogue/actions that drive you guys mad about these characters 👀 I know this series is full of them.

#katekyo hitman reborn #khr #vongola family #varia #millefiore #kokuyo gang #Idk if this one really made any sense just thought id share with you guys

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candyskiez · 4 months

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Fuck it. I've been sitting on this one for a while.

Lemme talk about Luz as a trans allegory. Is this the only way to interpret her character? Fuck no! Is it one of my favorite ways to interpret her? Fuck yes! Strap in, I am very normal about her story.

Luz's story literally begins with being sent to a camp to make her more "Normal." It is later revealed that one of the people sent to that camp is nonbinary. And they say that the camp was like a prison. Sound familiar?

It's also very noteworthy that throughout the story, it seems like Luz has to choose between being herself and her family. Either have your mom or be happy. Either find yourself or be with someone you love but who you feel like you can't let know you, because you feel like you're too weird for them to handle. It's also very interesting how she interprets Camila's actions, and also completely understandable considering everything. She interprets it as she just became Too Much. Her issues are too much, she's too much effort, she's a burden to her, and she can't justify it anymore. There's something Wrong with her. And she's desperate to make it up to her. She feels like she can only show Camilia a part of herself, because maybe that other part of her isn't what she's supposed to be. Maybe she's just a mess. Maybe she's a horrible daughter. She's weighing her down. (Once again, sound familiar?)

Camilia in grom fright walking in through a door makes me really think of being Outed. Being caught in the act, being realized as Other and just the whole "have you been LYING to me?!" Which. I'm sure many trans people relate to. Hiding this part of yourself from someone you love because you're scared that it's too late to tell them. If they find out, will they take it personally? Will they be angry? Will they need to know every little detail before they're satisfied? Luz doesn't know how Camilia will react after she sent her to that camp, because that felt so out of character for her mom to do and now she's left reeling. She got Too Much for even her mom to deal with. Now she feels like she needs to hide this part of her even more. Her texts to Camilia are also very notable. It just...it sounds so much like sounding scared to come out. Wanting, so bad, for her to know who she really is. She's just...scared. And she isn't ready.

Also the fact that everyone, at every turn, is constantly telling Luz she'll never be a witch. She wasn't born with a bile sack. She wasn't born one. She wasn't born here. She can't be a witch. Humans can't do magic. Humans aren't built like that. She wasn't born a witch. And her dejection in covention is just...

Is she really a witch if she wasn't born one? If she has to make herself one?

And Eda says, what makes a real witch? Someone who conforms and acts exactly like a witch "should?" Thats bullshit, then they'd be miserable. Do whatever , be your own witch. Do you see what I'm getting at.

Also the fact Luz is constantly made to choose between worlds. Human realm and demon realm. Everyone telling her where she's allowed to be. What she's allowed to be. You can't have both. You can't be both. You do not get both. Luz calling herself a bad boy. Luz being referred to as a girl as well. Her being both. Her being told she cannot be both. Do you get what I'm saying. Do you hear me.

And just. God. Thanks to them. None of her old clothing that was so much like her. Covering up her body so much. No more non conforming, none. She has the dysphoria stereotype fit, bit for bit. She's hiding her own body. Trying to look normal. Depressed and she hates herself because she thinks she ruined everything by chasing that happiness.

And what saves her is Camilia telling her, I never EVER meant to make you feel like this. My biggest mistake is not supporting you when you needed it. My biggest mistake is letting other people push you around. I was terrified that they would hurt you for being different, so I tried to make you hide it. I should've stood with you and fought the people who I thought would hurt you. You needed me. And I wasnt there. But I'm here now. Please, don't hate yourself. Please don't think this is your fault. You're beautiful. And just. God! God! Her not using any gendered terms , no my daughter, no mija, NONE. Just. This beautiful, good witch. The thing she always wanted to be allowed to be. Do you see me. Do you see what I'm saying.

And her palismen is a shape shifter. Who can be ALL. Who can be BOTH AND MORE. Luz choosing every track in hexside, having every animal as a palismen, being called a girl and a boy, she is BOTH and ALL and NEITHER and MORE. And it's fucking beautiful.

And onto my favorite part of the allegory. Titan Luz.

Luz is killed by the extremist who thinks anything different is bad and corrupt and evil. She's brought back by an elder who openly says he's the best of both things. Who's lived through years of hatred. And he tells her she has the right to fight back against her oppressor. So get out there and LIVE.

And she transforms. She gets a new body. A new body that's the combination of everything shed ever been. It has calls to her family, Kings fur and Eda's eyes and Camilias hair and Hunters teleporting. But it's so LUZ. It has the light symbol it has her hat and the azura outfit and she looks like HERSELF. She comes back from the brink with a body all her own. That she made for herself. That she CHOSE for herself. She chooses herself and she becomes the best of both things: human and creature of the isles. She's both. She's all. Shes neither. She's something different entirely. She's Luz.

And her speech to Belos. She declares herself as belonging to both realms, as being BOTH. She isn't going to give up one thing for the other. She can have whatever the fuck she wants. She's Luz motherfucking Noceda, she's all of the above, and you can't do anything about it. She's a human, she's a witch, she's a titan, she was born in a world that made her miserable so she found one that didn't and worked on the relationships that weren't working out for her until they worked. She's still weird and different and she doesn't fit into any of your boxes and she's the happiest she's ever been up to this point in the series. She has a body all of her own making. And she's overjoyed. THIS is who she is. She's so comfortable in her own skin in the epilogue it makes me emotional. God. Luz. I love her.

Is some of this reaching? Probably, yes. But I love hitting my favorites with the trans stick, so! I do not care. Love ya Luz, you're the protagonist we did NOT deserve.

#toh spoilers #the owl house spoilers #owl house spoilers #owl house #toh #the owl house #luz noceda

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yeagerfate · 10 months

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Hey I saw your spider verse post on makeup, could you do one with the like the opposite effect? Like I don’t wear a lot of makeup (mostly because I am lazy lol) but maybe the Spider verse sees them with makeup for the first time?

Thanks! Have a lovely day! Xoxo

Don’t forget to eat, drink water, and get rest!!!!

seeing you with makeup for the first time

characters: miles morales (earth-1610), miguel o’hara, hobie brown, gwen stacy, pavitr prabhakar

notes: thanks for requesting and for ur kind words! ur the first one to send me a request so that’s :)) this is basically the opposite of my other post about them seeing you without makeup for the first time. so sorry if this isn’t want you wanted! i did more of a spin on this than the previous one lol #creativefreedom (not proofread sorry)

warnings: none lol

Prom was an extravagant event at Brooklyn Visions Academy, so Miles immediately knew that you were going to go all out for it. Though, he was a bit happy that you told him you didn’t want him to do some over the top promposal. Miles may be well-versed in subjects like art and physics, but his mind went blank when it came to stuff like that. Miles was really anxious about coming to pick you up, as your dad was super protective of you, but his own father gave him a pep-talk. He felt much better. When he saw you in your glamorous dress/suit, he was taken aback almost instantly. He’d never seen you in such magnificent makeup before. He felt…. bewitched. “W-wow,” He stuttered. “You look…. great.” He found himself at a loss for words. Your heart stuttered, and you felt like you’d never been happier. “You’re not too bad yourself,” You giggled. The way you smiled that day made Miles glad he got it in a picture.

Miguel knew that he shouldn’t get involved with one of his subordinates, especially if they were new, but he wanted to break the rules as soon as he saw you. You were…. beautiful, to say the least. The way your makeup perfectly complemented the color of your eyes and skin was glorious. Naturally, you were a bit shy because of your newness, so Jessica accompanied you on your first day with the permission of Miguel. He was very glad someone he was close to was helping you so he could get another good look at you. He felt a bit perverted, like a voyeur, but you were just so… alluring. The smile you radiantly gave him as you shook his hand for the first time was addicting. He wanted to know more about you, even if you were just meant to be a secretary to Jessica. Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad if he asked you out for coffee? It couldn’t be, right? He’d just have to make sure Lyla wouldn’t find out about it, as he wasn’t looking forward to being made fun of for weeks.

Hobie loved it when you attended his concerts, so when you came with makeup inspired by his own, he went wild. He found himself being much more clingy than usual, wanting to get a good look at your pretty face and hold you. It meant so much to him that you were involved in his music career… so many people in his life had dismissed it, or had told him to get a “real job”, so your support mattered so much to him. Hobie complimented you multiple times, each comment more sweet than the last, and so by the end of the night you were beaming. The firm kiss you’d given him backstage after his show had ended was something he wouldn’t trade the world for. It was so satisfying, so lovely, so…. you. He loved you. Hesitantly, Hobie asked you if he could walk you to your apartment. When you said yes, he found himself even more ecstatic than before. You were very tired after his show, and so was he, so you both took turns cleaning each others makeup off. You took your time, your hands gentle and benign. Hobie’s hands were a bit rough because of all of his calluses, so he was careful. “Thank you,” he’d whispered to you sincerely later in the night. “I love you.”

Gwen had done your makeup for you, and the way it turned out made her very happy. You looked absolutely incredible, and she almost wanted to dramatically drop her jaw to make you laugh the way she liked. The two of you were supposed to go to Miles’ state championship basketball game, so you both wanted to look nice for pictures later. Gwen spent a lot of time meticulously doing your makeup, wanting it to be exactly tailored to your taste. Any mistakes she’d made she’d immediately wipe off and start again. Excitedly, Gwen had you twirl around in your nice dress and makeup in a mini-fashion show. “You look beautiful,” she told you. Her voice was warm and genuine, her smile heartfelt. That night, after you’d gotten home, she’d kissed your soft lips tenderly, telling you how much she loved you. “Every time I look at you, you seem to get even more beautiful. I’m glad that in this universe, we’re happy together.”

Birthdays were really important to Pavitr’s family, so you wanted to go all out for it. You planned a perfect surprise party with his wonderful auntie. It was really hard to keep it a secret, but it eventually worked out. You were glad you never told him about it because of the joyous look on his face when he realized what was going on. Privately, he gave you a kind kiss and a warm hug, telling you how happy he was. The smile on his face was absolutely adorable and you wanted to squeeze him but you didn’t, not wanting to embarrass him. It didn’t take Pavitr long to compliment you on how beautiful you looked, especially with your amazing makeup. Mushy words were uttered that night, making you both cringe and smile at the same time. It was marvelous. His family had whispered to his aunt asking you when you were to be married, and she just shrugged happily. “Young love,” she muttered. It reminded her of when she was Pavitr’s age.

#atsv x reader #atsv fluff #itsv x reader #itsv fluff #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara fluff #miles morales x reader #miles morales fluff #across the spiderverse x reader #gwen stacy x reader #gwen stacy fluff #pavitr prabhakar fluff #pavitr prabhakar x reader #hobie brown fluff #hobie brown x reader #into the spiderverse x reader #hehe this was fun #i enjoyed <3

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spectrerie · 1 year

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Ok I have no idea if your requests are on or not because I literally never request but I love your writing so here I am! Anyways I can’t stop thinking about ghost x hacker reader who works with 141 and they have to go with the guys on a mission to like hack through security systems or something (idk) but ghost absolutely refuses to let them go like he is so against it. And maybe while they’re on the mission the reader gets hurt or something idrk I haven’t thought that far ahead but I thought you would do so good with this idea!!! Thank you!!

Hello!!!!!!! This request is so good! I got a bit carried away and wrote 3.5k words on it lmaoo, but I'm happy with it now, so I'll post it as an answer to this ask

If you die, I swear I'll kill you.

Simon Ghost Riley x gn!reader

Please enjoy this anon, and anyone else who reads it.

TW: injury, slight workplace bullying, enemies(?) to friends

“With all due respect, sir, no. I don’t need to babysit some egg-head while I’m in the field.” Ghost sat with his arms crossed, knees apart, filling his chair and the room with his presence.

You glanced at Price, you’d both expected this reaction, but it still hurt to hear him say it so easily. For nearly two years you’d put your best foot forward. Did everything to get him to like you until it became clear that he never would. You were ready to settle for respect, for a crumb of acknowledgement. Though soon that too was clearly out of your reach. Now you were just happy to keep out of his way. You weren’t part of the 141, no matter how much information you’d stolen for them, no matter how much data you mined for them, no matter how many sleepless nights you’d given them. You weren’t a soldier. Ghost made sure to remind you of that at every chance he got.

At every debrief he treated you like you were just a piece of the furniture. He ignored you with ease, asking questions to everyone but you. Making plans and strategising with everyone’s strengths in mind but yours. Any information he needed about what you could do he’d obtained through Captain Price. Often with you in the same room, going over your head like you were some machinery he’d be crazy to speak to.

You typed and looked through files. You were a glorified intern as far as he was concerned.

“Well Lieutenant, it’s not up to you, is it? Owl is going with you, and that’s final.”

A part of you cringed at the nickname despite the joy it normally filled you with. You’d felt honoured when Soap had coined it. The night owl of the 141, playing with mice and bringing veritable feasts of information back to the nest. But hearing it used in front of Ghost felt wrong. You could feel his eyes roll without even looking at him.

You didn’t need a call sign.

You didn’t need to be closer to the 141.

You didn’t even need a name, because they didn’t need you.

“Yes, sir.” He said as he stood to attention, mumbling his acknowledgement to the Captain as he prepared for his dismissal.

“Final brief at 0400. Wheels up at 0500, understood?” Price barked out at the two of you. You both gave your acknowledgement and he nodded, satisfied for now.

“Alright, dismissed.”

Ghost made a quick exit, as though being in your presence was more than enough to make him ill. You sighed and began to move, but a hand at your shoulder stopped you.

“Owl, don’t let him get to you. You’re a part of this team, and you’re needed on this mission. I wouldn’t send you out if I didn’t believe you needed to be there.”

You nodded, dropping you head to pull back the tears that threatened to fall.

“Thank you, sir. I won’t let you down.”

“I know you won’t. Your intel has always been good. We don’t have the time to wait for the boys to bring the drives back, if they even knew what to look for, time isn’t on our side.”

You knew that better than anyone. If only Lieutenant Riley would admit that you weren’t an incompetent civilian, maybe things would go along quicker.

— — —

“Alright boys, this one should be simple, yeah? We go in, subdue any hostiles, grab the tech and get the fuck out. I don’t want any mistakes, I don’t want any problems,” Ghost’s eyes stopped at you as he said the last word, “I don’t want any bad news, understood?” He said as his voice boomed over the sound of the plane's engine.

“Yes sir!” The group called out as one. This would be easy, as he said. You didn’t have to do too much, just follow the group and live long enough to break through the encrypted drives. From their you could relay the information back to Price and Laswell. Simple.

Your eyes drew closed as you took in a breath, trying to centre yourself. Get in, get the drives, get out. Job done. You repeated your mantra until you fell into a fitful sleep.

You woke with a start as your name was barked out.

Lieutenant Riley stood over you, arms crossed. An obvious scowl beneath his mask.

“Gotten enough beauty sleep, sunshine?”

The plane was empty, your teammates stood out on the makeshift runway, watching your change out of earshot. The late evening sun hung low on the horizon, casting long shadows into the plane.

“I’m sorry sir, I just wanted to be rested for the mission.”

“Well, aren’t you considerate, thank you so much, Pigeon.” His voice dripped with a saccharine sarcasm that cut you to your core. You hate that he’d made a mockery of the callsign you were so fond of. You were sure other people had slept on the flight over. Why was he singling you out so cruelly?

“Are you still on your bloody arse?” He barked out, loud enough too draw the attention of your teammates. “Sorry, sir!” you replied as you jumped up. Your body was yanked back with a start, bucking against the fastening that had kept you in your seat. Your head knocked back against the body of the plane, tilting your helmet over your eyes.

“Oh fucking hell, Pigeon. If you get yourself killed on this bloody mission, I’ll murder you.” His hand made quick work of your seatbelt, snatching it off you in one sharp motion, sending you lurching forward.

If only you’d had the confidence to tell him off.

If only you had the kind of easy relationship with him that he had with everyone else, one that transcended rank enough to quip back at him.

If only he didn’t hate you.

If only he could see you. Not just look at you scornfully, but see you. See your efforts, see your strength.

“Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.” You said with your eyes focused on the floor. Your gaze could have cut two pinholes in the undercarriage of the plane. You grabbed your gear and rushed down the gangway, thankful Ghost hadn’t pointed out all the things he found wrong with your apology. With your posture, with your face, with your breathing, with your existence.

“Alright. It’s 30 klicks to their base, but we’ll have to trek the last 5k. Johnny, you get us in, Gaz and I will clear a path while you watch our six. You,” Lieutenant Riley said with derision, “don’t die and find the drives after we’ve swept the place, understood?” You nodded sharply.

“Alright lads, this one’s easy. Any hostiles will be eliminated on sight, in and out, home in time for Eastenders.” Soap and Gaz laughed easily at Simon’s joke. You weren’t sure if you were allowed to show any crumb of happiness in front of him. Maybe he’d yank your tongue out if you so much as chuckled and bring it home for his dog.

As you made your way to the jeep Soap fell into step with you.

“Ye alright?” He asked, a gentle smile playing on his face. How could you be alright? He was always so kind to you, and Kyle always treated you with respect. Even the KorTac boys said ‘hello’, or ‘thanks for the intel’ once in a while whenever you ran into them. Ghost seemed pissed that he had to breathe the same air as you.

A short sigh escaped before you could regain your composure, “yeah, I’m okay. It’s just… I don’t want to mess up. It’s my first time really out in the field and—” and Lieutenant Riley, your best friend and our commanding officer hates my guts and doesn’t care to hide it. “And I just want to do well.” Soap nodded, though he couldn’t really understand. He’d been a soldier since he was 18. He’d proven himself time and time again even before he ever saw active duty. His abilities were undeniable.

You, as Ghost loved to remind you and everyone around you, were a desk jockey egg-head recruited after you’d been caught ransoming credit card companies and running stings on pedophiles with your ‘internet pals’. Caught or betrayed, the thought still plagued you, though the end result had been a job offer from the British Army in lieu of prison time. Soap and Gaz thought you were a genius, some sort of cyber Robin Hood fighting the good fight from smokey internet cafes or 6 monitor supercomputers. Captain Price saw you as a clever kid with good intentions but questionable methods.

Ghost… well Ghost made no secret of the fact he thought you were an egg-head. An energy drink guzzling college drop-out with a lot of free time and no common sense. A basement dweller with more waifu body pillows than real life friends. A useless kid with no place in battle, regardless of the fact that your intel was what told him where to go more times than not.

“He doesn’t hate you, he’s just… well he’s just Ghost. He’s never worked with you, I’m sure things will change after this.” You nodded, thankful for the reassurance though you didn’t really buy much of it. As you opened the jeep door and slid into one of the back seats you noticed Ghost’s eyes were trained on you through the rearview mirror. Watching for something to pick on you for, of course.

You held his gaze as you closed the door and dropped your gear bag between your feet. ‘That’s right Lt, I can sit down without strangling myself on the seatbelt’ you longed to say to him. You settled for holding his gaze and raising your eyebrows at him. As the jeep rumbled to life you could have sworn you heard a laugh.

— — —

Ghost glanced at the pistol holstered on you thigh, as well as the knife sheathed at your hip. The urge to ramble about your right to protect yourself and defend your teammates bubbled up in your chest, the citric need to bite back at him almost won. Thankfully he spoke before you did.

“You do know how to use that, right?” He whispered to you, crouched to your right, Gaz to your left. You’d gone through basic gun training and safety as well as first aid at Captain Price’s insistence once you’d begun working more and more with the 141. A fact you were sure Ghost knew. He’d never let you carry a weapon without a direct order from Price. A direct order not to snatch it on sight and send you to sit in a corner and think about how stupid you were.

“Of course, sir,” you quipped back. Your sarcasm was cut with anxiety. This was real. You didn’t have to kill anyone, you just had to keep up and not die. But this was so real. A gun range was nothing in comparison. The slide of the gravel beneath your boots, the heat of your comrades beside you, the dull green of the night vision. This was real.

“Ghost, do you copy? 30 seconds to detonation.” Soap’s voice was tinny through the comm on Ghost’s shoulder.

30 seconds?

Seconds?!

Your heart pumped a punishing beat as the reality of it all sunk deeper and deeper.

A hand on your knee brought you back to the moment. “Look at me,” the last voice you’d ever expect to comfort you was all that filled your ears. The surprise washed away the fear for a moment as you looked into Ghost’s eyes.

“The second you hear the blast, stay low and follow us, okay? You’ll want to jump up, don’t.”

“Okay.”

His dark eyes stared into you as he spoke. “Keep your weapon in your hands, keep your eyes on me, keep up, and keep calm. This is the fun part.” A low chuckled from Gaz calmed you further.

“I’ve got your six, just focus on moving with the group, okay?” Gaz whispered beside you.

“Okay.”

All you could do was agree, any eloquence you’d had before had long since dissipated.

A deafening boom rang out and the urge to run flooded every nerve in your body. You watched Ghost.

Keep your eyes on me

You focused on Ghost’s broad back as you moved with him. Focused on keeping close. On surviving.

The next minutes were a blur of gun fire and barked out commands. The muzzle flash of the weapons around you was enough to make the night vision useless and so with shaky hands and shallow breaths you pushed the goggles up as you moved through a maze of rooms with Ghost as your guide.

A heavy hand against your chest stopped you before you had a chance to run into your Lieutenant.

“Gaz, now.” He barked quickly as a heavy boot made contact with the door, pushing it from the frame. Garrick fired as he moved deftly into the room, sweeping the corner as Ghost fired at a figure hunched over a laptop.

Everything was happening too quickly. You were pushed into the room, or pulled, you couldn’t know. As your body entered your mind stayed back and watched as a figure rose from a position under the desk. Before you could even see their eyes they hit the floor with a thud.

A wave of nausea spread through you as you moved to where they’d been, pushing the bodies away from the computer as you grabbed it and began to type a series of commands into the terminal. Your hands shook as you pushed a thumb-drive into a port and watched as your code froze the deletion process. You left that to work as you pulled open desk drawers and riffled through their contents, shovelling everything in sight into your pack.

“Hurry up!”

You obeyed, moving quicker as you grabbed files and thick plastic drives with greedy, shaking hands. The final drawer was locked tight. You wanted to call out for a key but shame held you tongue. You pulled at it and it held firm. Ghost could have yanked it open with one hand, you were sure. His presence in the room motivated you to think like a soldier. Think like him.

‘I’m not useless. I’m not useless. I’m not useless.’ You chanted to yourself as you reached to you side and gripped your knife. Jamming it into a gap in the drawer you pushed your whole weight onto it and heard a click.

Yes. You weren’t useless after all.

“Owl! Wait!”

With unbridled euphoria you yanked the drawer open and felt your body and mind reconnect with a violent snap. Like a spark to gas you ignited with something you couldn’t recognise. Warmth spread through your middle as you glanced down into the drawer. It was empty.

“Oh shit.”

“Soap call in a medevac, now!”

Why was it empty? Were they all shouting because it was empty?

Your hand dug into the wooden cube, patting around until you felt something give. You pushed up into it and heard something drop. Another hard drive.

“Owl, Owl you need to move, now.”

A firm hand grasped you by the shoulder and you shook it off. You bent down to pick up the drive and a white hot pain seared your abdomen. You ignored it, and with a sharp wince you grabbed the final drive.

Why were your hands shaking so much? Was it the excitement of war?

You turned to collect the laptop but it was already in Gaz’s hands. He was shoving it into your pack as Ghost grabbed the drive in your hand and tossed it to him.

“No! No, I have to decrypt the—”

“You have to move. Now.” Ghost retorted sharply as he angled himself to block your view of Gaz.

When had they stripped you of your pack?

Why was Lieutenant Riley suddenly pushing you out the door you’d all just come through?

How were you able to see your group moving through the halls? Watching the retreat from an unnatural vantage point, making note of the thick trail of something syrupy behind you.

Was that blood? Did your sloppiness get one of them injured?

— — —

The jeep you’d left 5 kilometres away speed into view in front of the compound you’d just sacked.

Was it moving or were you?

Hands pushed you into it and began pulling off the kevlar and fabric of covering your torso.

‘Is it bad?” Soap’s voice came from the front of the vehicle.

“No, its not too bad,” Ghost said to you rather than Soap. You craned your head down to look at the wound, but a strong hand tilted your chin away.

“I thought I told you to keep your eyes on me, Pigeon” he said lowly as you searched his face for some clue of what was happening. His derisive diminutive sounded odd now, it was laced with something tender.

“Sorry lieutenant, I just wanted to—” you didn’t know how to finish.

I just wanted to see for myself?

I just wanted to be a part of the team?

“— I just wanted to impress you. I’m sorry, sir.” You mumbled as your lids grew heavy.

The pressure on your stomach increased as Ghost spoke to you in low whispers. “Impress me? How? By falling asleep? We’ve already talked about that, soldier. I told you to keep your eyes on me. That’s an order.”

“Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.”

— — —

Your eyes fluttered open, catching a glimpse of a white stucco ceiling.

Shit.

Ghost would kill you for falling asleep again. As you tried to sit up your body barked out in protest. A dull ache blanketed your left side and pulsed through you.

A hand pushed you back down gently. Resting for a beat on your shoulder before pulling away.

“Slow down, kid. You’ll rip your stitches out.” You knew that voice. You turned your head to look at the Lieutenant. You’d already known it was him, all that surprised you was the lack of contempt in his voice.

You couldn’t speak. You just looked around, taking in the small makeshift clinic you’d found yourself in.

“The hospital was too far,” Ghost said, answering the question you mind was already forming, “so they set this up in a safe house nearby.” You nodded, laying back against the pillows. “Sir? What happened?”

You heard Lieutenant Riley sigh as you stared up at the ceiling above you. Too timid to look at him as he recounted your failures on the mission.

“The drawer was rigged. If you’d been taller, or wider, the shrapnel that hit you would have been fatal, Owl.”

The name drew your eyes to him before you could stop yourself.

“I’ve graduated from Pigeon?” You asked, trying to cut the tension in the small room. He laughed, and the sound was enough to make the pain in your abdomen dissipate.

You’d made him laugh.

You had made Ghost laugh.

“You got injured, and didn’t give up. That was a tough thing you did, Owl. I’m proud of you.”

Tears pricked the corners of your eyes, it took everything you had not to let them fall. A warm on hand your head was what completely undid you. Hot tears slipped out of your closed eyes as Lieutenant Riley stroked your hair more gently than you’d ever thought a man of his size was capable of.

“You did well, don’t worry.”

You gathered yourself, remembering the objective of the mission. “How long was I out, sir? Has the operation window passed?”

He pulled his hand back slowly before he spoke. “Intel over here took a look at some of the materials before sending them back with Soap and Gaz. The boys back home will decrypt as much as they can while you’re healing up here. Doc said you’d be okay to fly within 48 hours.”

You nodded, trying to keep your disappointment in check. You wouldn’t even get a chance to do what you were good at.

“But,” Ghost said slowly, drawing your attention away from the pity party you’d already began throwing for yourself. “No one could make heads or tails of what was on the laptop.”

“So its useless then?” You asked, trying to push the hurt out of your voice.

“Oh I wouldn’t say that,” Ghost let out a low chuckle. God, you’d become addicted to that sound already. “Whatever you plugged into it before you got hurt completely stumped everyone, they said only you’d be able to retrieve anything from it.”

A warm pride filled your chest. No one could do what you could. You weren’t useless.

“So… unfortunately for you, Pigeon. I’ve brought you some homework while I babysit you. Are you up for it?”

Ghost dropped the laptop onto your lap. Your thumb-drive was still plugged into it, filled with malware and viruses you’d cooked up over the years.

You smiled at him, beaming with pride as you opened the device. “Of course, just keep your eyes on me, sir. I’ll be done in no time.”

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #mw2 #modern warfare ii #modern warfare #ghost #ghost x reader #hacker!reader #mean!ghost #tw toxic relationship #but that changes by the end of the fic #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley requests #simon ghost riley imagine #ghost mw2 imagines

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faghubby · 3 months

Text

Virgin Cuckold

It was 1992 I met Mary I was 19. And still a virgin. Mary 17 was still in high school. After a few dates. Mary asked how many woman I had been with. I lied and told her some crazy inflated number to sound like a stud. I guess I went too high because it worried Mary. Since she had told me she had been with four guys. It didn't scare her enough to break uo with me just wait to have sex. I missed the signs when she was ready to have sex a few weeks later. I must of missed a bunch because she finally confronted me.

"Paul, you haven't been with anyone have you?" She asked I really liked her. And I confessed that I had lied.

"I can't believe you lied to me" she said crying she left. It was a few days when I heard from her again. She just appeared at my door. I was so happy to see her.

"You can never lie to me" Mary told me. "But before we get back together I have to tell you. I met up with my ex the night I left. I was frustrated and mad at you." She told me.

"You slept with him?" I asked almost crying.

"No I fucked him, he was always good at making me cum" she told me. "Now why don't we restart this relationship. If you can be honest with me I will be honest with you" Mary told me.

"Yes, I would love that" I told her.

"Good, now have you ever even scene a woman naked?" She asked. I confessed I had not really ever scene a woman naked. She took off her shirt and stood before me in her simple white bra.

"Now we are going to go slow. Because you are so behind. I showed my breast to Bobby. In 7th grade. She then unhooked her bra. And for the first time I saw a real full on set of tits. They where big but not huge. I later learned a D cup. She let me touch them kiss them she told me how she liked them caressed not squeezed and her nipples nibbled a little but not bit. She allowed me to "play with then while we made out. But no further.

Later as she got dressed.

"You got me so horny now, I am going to meet up with Allen (the ex) and have him satisfy me" she stated.

"What? You aren't serious?" I said getting loud.

"Of course I am, you have no idea how to satisfy me. And I want to cum not have a teaching lesson. Today you learned breasts" she told me. She squeezed my erection thru my jeans. "Besides you seem to like it" she kissed me and turned around. I grabbed her arm. She spun around the look on her face scared me she was mad.

"Don't you ever grab me like that again" she said getting right in my face. "I will deal with this later" and she left.

I called her later that night to apologize. We talked she openly talked about how Allen had pleased her. And about how well I had done exploring her breasts. I also got scolded when I referred to them as tits. And told to never call them that again.

We meet up again two days later. Where she allowed me to see her in just her panties. We made out and rubbed against each tpother she made me keep my pants on. And hands above her panties. We dated as a normal couple. Hanging out, movie, dinner. But when alone she taught me about sex and a woman's body. Slowly painfully so. Next time I was allowed to take off my pants. And show her my dick. Which she played with alittle but didn't let me cum. Instead she spoke about how I was kinda on the small side. Although she did this in a almost compassionate way. Next she let me see her completely naked. But it was like a science class. She spread her legs and explained the different parts and where to kiss, and lick. Rub even nibble. Told me how she even liked when her asshole was kissed. Slowly she let me taste, and try different things. She was still fucking Allen almost every night. But I was the one getting her time and affection. Allen was an asshole. In her words.

It had been two weeks since this all started when she allowed me to make her cum with my tounge. I was beaming with pride. And recieved heavy praise.

"Do you think now you could?" I asked looking down at my throbbing dick.

"Well we need to take care of some things first and I wasn't sure exactly how to do that till recently." Mary told me. "You see you have never been punished for lying, and I know you been cheating on me. Rushing home to jerk off after we make out" Mary continued

"Have you ever been spanked by your father?" She asked. A bit confused

"Yeah, I got the belt quite a few times growing up" I told her.

"Good, give me your belt" Mary said

"You are going to spank me?" I asked

"Yes I am" she said calmly. Taking my belt. I was naked still.

"Lean over the desk" Mary told me

"Mary, I don't think" I pleaded

"Lean over the desk now" she ran the belt along the side of my dick. I did as she said.

"As soon as I did she bought the belt down hard. I jumped and ran to the corner.

"Get back here. Or get out" Mary stated she was dead serious. I dropped my head and leaned back over the desk.

"That really hurt" I wimpered as I did the belt again stung across my ass.

"You will never lie to me again" she stated and another blow. "You will ask before you play with your little penis" followed by another blow.

"No more whining about Allen or anyone else I choose to fuck" followed by another blow. "I don't want you looking or even thinking about another woman" again another blow. My ass was on fire. She dropped the belt.

"Come here" she said softly. "I am sorry but i have to teach you there are consequences to lieing" she cooed as I sat next to her she reached down and jerked me off with two fingers. This time she let me cum. As she held me.

Mary continued to "teach me" how to please her. How to behave around her. How to treat her. After a few weeks I stopped pestering her about sex. Instead spent time pleasing her. And very happy when she decided to please me. With her hand. But most often allowed me to masterbate in front of her. She didn't mention Allen but I knew she was still fucking him.

My parents loved Mary they swore I was better with her. I never swore any more. And would never talk back or start an argument with anyone. Actually everyone loved Mary. My friends where jealous. She was really hot and just so nice. My family thought of her as a daughter.

I never refused her anything. I didn't have alot of money but she didn't care she was happy to cuddle on the couch and watch a movie on Saturday night.

I took her to her prom where she went off and spent half the night getting fucked by two boys she went to school with. As I just sat in the corner not knowing anyone listening to the music. I had rented a limo. And as we left she asked me.

"Would you make me cum with your tounge?" I pulled up her dress she wore no panties and I saw cum leaking from her.

"Mary I cant" I said looking in her eyes.

"Yes you can, try" she said lovingly. I went back down and kissed all around avoiding where she wanted me. She grabbed my head and pushed my face into her messing pussy. Cum smeared across my face.

"Do it now or I will spank you with the limo driver watching" she told me. I knew I wouldn't win and surrendered liking this guy's cum.

"See I knew you could do it" Mary told me as she massaged my head as I consumed her pussy. Not stopping until she came twice.

"That was wonderful, I hope you do that everyday" she told me kissing me she tasted both hers and the two men's fluids.

After that she stopped even leading me on about having sex with me ever. For the next two years I spent several nights a week licking her used pussy. She asked me to marry her, well more like told me I was going to marry her. On our wedding night she took my ass with a strapon. Now as we are about to celebrate our 5 year anniversary. She wants me to learn to get men's cum from the source. We are also expecting our first child. Mary laughs that I will be the first virgin father.

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i-might-be-a-simp · 10 months

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I need your opinion, do you think Ron knew that Cale was no longer the same person?

I was stalking the fandom (as usual) and I saw a comment, by who I assume to be a new reader, wondering how Ron would react finding out Cale was actually KRS, that the child he watched grow wasn't actually the man he believes and it made me think a bit.

When I read tcf the first time, one of the things I was most curious about was all the odd looks Cale got in the first few chapters, and my biggest question was, surely a very sharp and experienced assassin who knew the know-hows of blending into different crowds would have immediately noticed that "Young master" was no longer the same person.

I'm sure you caught this too when reading, but there were many moments when Ron's expression turned odd after Cale did or said something.

Ron the whole first chapter:

It starts by something he dismisses, such as Cale waking up immediately after Ron calls out to him, on the very first attempt. But as the chapter progresses, Ron gets more and more intrigued.

He notices how Cale says thanks after he receives water and when servants dress him. Along with his other odd actions, asking the date, repeating his own name, asking to go to the study, not breaking things etc.

And then finally, Ron gives him the ultimate test, the lemon tea. I think this was his way of confirming that Cale had changed. It proved to me Ron was definitely onto something.

Now this is where I need your opinion. From my interpretation of Ron's character, yes he "loved" ogCale or held at least a bit of affection for him. Let me pull up some receipts:

^(sorry for light mode)

Although Ron treated him like his grandson he did not think Cale had a soft spot for him nor that he treated him like a person and never really took much interest in him aside from his duties.

And while I was doing a deep-dive I went on the wiki and saw this.

So Ron saw ogCale, his situation and therefore pitied him, yet he thought of him as a helpless impertinent puppy, which is why he did not have much issue with following Beacrox who wished to leave with Choi Han in BOAH. But only after Cale changed is when he begin to be interested.

Now the question is, was the lemon tea experiment he did, just to test whether Cale had become aware of Ron's true identity, or was it to confirm Cale was a changed person entirely???

Personally I think it was both, and that Ron was aware from the very beginning. However this is where I am conflicted, because the idea of Ron watching that small boy become so big and smart is so satisfying to me, because the author wanted to paint this as a "cale finally stopped pretending to be a dumb oblivious trash and started to take matters into his hand" like it was all a plan cale had to hide his powers and get stronger in secret while acting unsuspecting. This is what the public believes and it sounds very cool but... hmm I wish we got a chapter focusing more on Ron's feelings.

Like I am aware he loves Cale very much and especially after getting the new arm he started to feel a sense of loyalty for Cale he didn't have before but the fact that he was one of the few people og Cale was very close with since he was very young, the fact that a whole new person was in the body is kind of not addressed in its full concept, this transition from no interest to loyalty was also a transition from og cale to krs cale so I wish we got more on it.

Thanks for reading my ramble. I love them.

#trash of the count's family #tcf #cale henituse #lcf #lout of count’s family #ron molan

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mindibindi · 9 months

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The fact that Mulder and Scully never got a well-lit, well-shot kiss unencumbered by obstacles of any variety (be they bosses, babies or broken bones) is made all the more frustrating by the fact that David Duchovny and Gillian Anderson both look like really, REALLY good kissers. DD has played a lot of sexy/romantic roles; "Californication" alone gives ample evidence of his kissing prowess. Gillian hasn't played as many roles requiring make-out skills but she does this thing in "Playing By Heart" where she pulls back from Jon Stewart's mouth and traces his lips with hers.... 😳😳😳 She does a similar thing in the FTF blooper kiss, where she pulls back from David/Mulder and makes his mouth chase hers. She teases him a bit with her tongue before diving in... 🥴🤯🤤 and YES, she is hamming it up for the crew (not us cos we were never supposed to see it GRR). Actually, she hams up that moment more than David, who just plays it straight. That is NOT how Scully would kiss Mulder for the first time. (Maybe for the second time. But even so. Mulder would be like: Wait a minute. Nice girls don't kiss like that. And Scully would be like: Oh yes they fucking do.... And then do it again). Those blooper kisses are ALL Gillian, not Scully. And as grateful as I am that the kisses Gillovny tried so hard to insert into the M/S narrative leaked, I can't even believe THEM as real Mulder and Scully kisses. In short (not that this is news): WE WERE ROBBED. Over and over and over again. Because not only do DD and GA have the most epic chemistry in television history, not only do Mulder and Scully have the most epic love story in television history, NOT ONLY do DD and GA have the most kissable lips in television history, I believe to this day that they also possess the oral skills to elevate a well-lit, well-shot, well-timed, completely unencumbered kiss to the most sensual and satisfying consummation of sexual tension of all time. Only Chris Carter is a puritan so. Here we are. 30 years later.

#txf #the x files #kiss #mulder x scully #fox mulder #dana scully #gillian anderson #david duchovny #msr #gillovny #bless them for trying to rectify this mess #i apologise if this post made anyone wanna hot to kiss DD GA both or just in general #ftf #chris carter #is a puritan who can't separate sex from reproduction #the fact that this state of affairs was not remedied in the reboot is a travesty #bridget jones ref #californication #playing by heart

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veny-many · 7 months

Text

I got an idea that Plo undercovering to clone slavery market place with Wolffe because I wanted.

Jedi Order had received worrying news that many Clone troopers are lost in underworld, and some body of them found in sewer, with the evidence of many abuse and torture.

Jedi suspected Clone abduction and slavery, but it was not easy to find any clue of the criminals, and yet numbers of the victims is rising everyday.

Plo Koon was one of the Jedi who was tasked to track down the slavery, and he was so concerned about abducted Clones, since he had many experience about trafficking and slavery from the time when he was working as a seeker. Jedi knew he had experience, and slightly not-so-concerned about him.

Plo: I will serve the Order, Masters.(quietly leaves room)

Mace: ...He will going to use that lightning.

Obi-wan: What lightning?

Yoda: Strong assurance, indeed I have.

Of course the tracking of the slavery was not easy task. They ran away fast, and performed act quickly. With no evidence or clue.

One day, Wolffe talked to Plo, about the new plan he made for hunting.

Wolffe: General, I want to propose you to undercover the role as a slaver.

Plo: I am not satisfied about the plan, but there's no time for more consideration.

Wolffe: Thank you sir. Don't worry, I will be by your side as a slave.

Plo: No need to thank wait what!?

Wolffe plan is like this: Him, as a lost clone, will be sold to slavery, and Plo will act as a slaver who abducted Clone and want to sell him. Since Clones all have same faces, and Kel-Dor are not easy to tell apart by their appearance for other sentients, it sill be easy to undercover without suspect.

Plo of course horrified by the plan. He didn't wanted to act as a criminal, but if that's a duty he will, but letting his man to be abducted to criminals? He tried to convince Wolffe, but he was so determined for his brothers.

Wolffe: I know it is very difficult and disturbing role for you, General. And I am deeply sorry for proposing this.

Plo: There should be other way-

Wolffe: But the troopers were missing in every day, even in our battalion had a missing brothers, we don't even know if he is still alive or dead, or worse.

Wolffe: I want to make sure for my troopers to be safe. At least safe from one thing, the thing that no other than Jedi had concerned about. Please General, if this succeeds, we can make great progress for the hunting.

Plo: ...

Comet: (suddenly appeared) But why you, Commander? We are Clones too, it is too risky to let you go when there's a risk about losing Clone Commander.

Boost: Yes, we can go there, you don't have too...

Wolffe: No.

Sinker: But...

Wolffe: No. Never. I would not let my mans to go in danger under my command.

Plo: (heart broken in million pieces and still calmly collecting them) I will make sure you will be safe, Wolffe.

...and how do I end this... um...

So... few days later, there was a sudden lightning in underworld's sewer, and some fried(but alive) slavers founded, Corries arrested them(with some punches), and many lost Clones came back to their brothers, and Wolffe never shut down his mouth while he was proudly announcing Fox(having headaches) about how his General awesomely took care of those assholes with bare hand and lightning, in the bedside he was recovering from abuse of slavery.

Plo calmly explained about the act at the sewer, with no regrets, and Councils were like "yes we knew you would fry them, you had history"

And Wolffe got banned from cookie store in 104th battalion's kitchen because of his reckless plan and making his brothers worried.

Wolffe: I found our brothers and this is how you treating me!?

Comet: Yes. I would never forgive you for making us worried.

Boost: And all of the cookies will be mine. Yummy!

Sinker: Hey, give me that jar Boost!

Wildfire: Cookies? COOKIES!!

Warthog: MINE MINE MINE

Wolffe: (witnessing his brothers' mess at kitchen with headache by the number)

Plo: (making notes about getting troopers more cookies)

#star wars #the clone wars #plo koon #commander wolffe #104th battalion #my drawing

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fan-goddess · 7 months

Note

it ain't a chance that I am letting this chance go, so if I may... for kinktober, may I ask for alicent hightower x religious? because the religious guilt is hitting me fully ugh.

thank you and have a lovely day!

Authors Note: I myself am not religious, so I may get certain aspects of it wrong. If I do and I offend you, please send me an ask or dm me directly if you’re not comfortable saying so in the comments.

Am I entirely happy? No. Does this have less smut than I would like for a kinktober post? Yes. But I just hope I do my best as this’ll be my first Alicent fic so I hope I do my little angsty closeted lesbian justice

Warnings: Sex, religious guilt, very closeted alicent, reader is female,

Taglist: @valeskafics, @humanpurposes, @watercolorskyy, @sofiyathecunt, @marvelgirl123, @sylasthegrim, @sweettastemakerpenguin, @mochi-rose, @blue-serendipity, @omgbrcat

Ever since you were a young girl, you were always taught in what was right and what was wrong. You were taught that a husband is the only thing you should look for in your life, and that as a woman, it was your responsibility to give him his heirs and to carry on his legacy.

Yet you were a mere girl of ten and three when you began to realise what it was that made you so different from the other ladies.

For years, you had never found yourself interested in the typical lady talk. What man looked most handsome or which knight looked the most dashing in their uniform. For years you wondered if there was something was wrong with you.

Then, you arrived at Kingslanding to work as a handmaiden for the princess, and met the eyes of Alicent Hightower.

She was beautiful, and kind, and showed you how to do the things the other women sneered at you for whenever you tried to ask for help. She became your best friend. But in your head, she became so much more than that.

At the age of ten and four, a mere year after you’d been employed as a maid, you’d begun to hear the gossip of the kitchen staff who talked about how one of the ladies who’d recently been married to some unknown lord, would need to fulfil her own pleasure and seek her own desires. The words had confused you when you first heard them, as all you had been taught about the act of pleasure is that only a man typically was able to achieve it.

Though that next day, when all your chores had been completed, the words of the kitchen staff still echoed around in your mind. They could not be shaken no matter how many topics you tried to distract yourself with. So you went to the library and sought out books that could hopefully satisfy your curiosity.

When you left a couple hours later, your face had turned a light shade of pink, and if the head septa could look inside your head at that moment, you knew she’d condemn you to the deepest depth of the seven hells if she could.

That night, you touched yourself and reached self fulfilment for the first time in your life. Only you didn’t reach it with the thought of any of the knights, nor with any lord. Instead, you only reached it thinking of Alicent Hightower.

Many years had passed since that night, and you’d recreated it many a times since then. Though much to your horror and delight, you’d become much closer to Alicent ever since her marriage to the king. The princess had casted her aside soon after the betrothal was announced, and you made sure you were there to help Alicent pick of the pieces of her broken heart.

There were many a nights when she would come to your chambers straight after the king would summon her to his own, and she’d cry in your arms from sadness and exhaustion.

Every time you would hold her and soothe her with whispers of affirmation and kindness, and by the looks of bashfulness she’d send you every time you did it, you could tell she did not hear them often.

It was one of those nights when Alicent had first kissed you. Her tears had already soaked through the thin and cheap fabric of your nightgown, and you distinctly remember using one of your sleeves to wipe at any that had dripped to her chin.

“There there Alicent it’s okay. I will always be there for you, no matter what, through thick and thin, I will always be by your side. I would never leave you.” You had murmured as you placed a stray hair behind her ear.

She looked at you with hooded eyes, and the next thing you knew you were tasting salt on your lips. Your hands had somehow already knew to delicately hold her head, whilst your lips however were much less knowledgable. They moved clumsily without any real rhythm against Alicents own, and when she pulled to look at you, a mix of apologises and prayers spilled from red swollen lips faster than you could comprehend.

“I-I am so sorry my lady! T-the seven deems though who lay with the same sex as sinners!” Alicent exclaims before she runs from the room, leaving you in shock and slight giddiness from how the events have ultimately played out.

It goes like that for months. You would never kiss Alicent, she only kissed you when the emotions were hitting her all at once. Still, even though she’s the one who always initiates it, the act always brings tears to her eyes and solemn prayers on her lips as she’s the first to stop it.

That night, after another summon to the kings chamber, Alicent walked into your own like clockwork. She embraced you with quiet tears in her eyes, as unlike the first times, her mind has finally become numb with how many times she’s been forced to endure it.

Her body has already provided the king with a son and his wife. Yet she knew she must prepare for another, as her father whispered into her hair whilst she held her screaming daughter, there must be a spare.

Your thumb instinctively went to Alicents face to wipe her eyes of tears, and this time, neither of you knew who began to kiss who.

You expected Alicent to draw away after a few minutes, yet she appeared to continue. Her hands stayed locked in a grip on your body and her lips stayed frantic in their search for your taste.

“Let me feel loved…” She murmured against your lips, so silent you barely heard her.

“Whatever you wish for my love…” You murmured back. It was the first time you called her that out loud. Yet she seemed to show no true reaction to your sudden endearment. Or maybe she wished to ignore it…

You gently direct Alicent to lay on the bed, and slowly bring yourself to lay by her thighs. When you pull the length of her dress up and your hands make it halfway up her soft inner thigh, your eyes make frantic movements to her face, yet when you eventually make eye contact, she merely nods her head and makes a small plea for more.

Your fingers explore her body cautiously, and as you pull down her underclothes, a slight gasp escapes from you before you could stop it. The queen of the seven kingdoms is revealed in-front of you, and when your fingers enter her slowly and you hear slight mewls of pleasure from above, your head begins to dizzy with it all.

One hand thrusts your fingers inside of her whilst the other holds down Alicents hips as she lifts them in her pursuit of this unfamiliar pleasure. Though you cannot help yourself in that moment from kissing the inner skin of her soft thighs as a way to let her know you were here for her.

When your head looks back up, you can see that her lips were trapped in the confinements of her teeth, looking as if they were drawing blood with how hard she bit down. Yet still, small noises escaped that made the area between your thighs ache for something more.

Your eyes flicker between the view of your soaking fingers to her eyes that have now shut tightly. Yet when you feel her clench tightly on your fingers as she presumably peaks, your hands retreat from her warmth, and your greeted with wet fingers you can’t find yourself able to stop from sucking on slightly, the slightly sweet yet also slightly tangy taste of her juices spreading on your tongue whilst you hum slightly in delight.

It’s sad that you can’t savour the moment. As one minute there is silence that consumes the two of you, and the next there is only the sound of frantic movements and rustles as Alicent quickly moves to kneel at the edge of the bed, her eyes clenched shut as her hands lock together in a prayer and her lips begin to repeat that all too familiar prayer you’ve heard so many times before.

You can only look to her in defeat, with exhausted tears building in your eyes, as she now looks to the ceiling and prays for forgiveness for her sins.

Yet you never ask her why she deemed your love such a sin, that she felt the need to indulge in it so much. Even if it seemed to be paining her so.

The reason you never ask you lover why she does this to herself, is because you loved her, and your mother always told you to never ever strike an arguement with the person you loved...

#house of the dragon #alicent hightower smut #queen alicent #hotd alicent #alicent hightower x reader #alicent targaryen #lady alicent #alicent hightower #alicent hightower request #young alicent #my works

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justwonder113 · 2 years

Text

Smothering them with love

Includes: Bokuto Koutaro, Oikawa Tooru, Iwaizumi Hajime

WARNINGS:None really just pure fluff. Reader is a bit bold. slightly suggestive. Mention of ass? And one curse word if I remember correctly lol. Please notify me if I missed something^^

A/N: I AM ALIVE! Had to deal with the worst writer's block but now I'm back! I will try to write more and more. Thank you all for your patience.

About 1.3k words

Bokuto Kotaro

You and Bokuto had been dating for a while and you were feeling beyond comfortable with him, but it was still him, who always innitiated affection. He was just so full of love! He wouldn't stop gushing about how beautiful, amazing and overall perfect you were. He always had to touch you in any way, he just showered you with gifts simply because every little thing seemed to remind him of you. You two also went on various of little dates and had so many adventures together. It was like every love language was his.

Now it wasn't like you were not affectionate and just as smitten as he was, but, next to him, your love didn't seem as loud and dramatic.

Both of you were laying on the couch, cuddling and just chilling together. Some movie was playing on tv, the one you two were supposed to watch together but only served as a background noise since neither of you cared about it. Both of you were too tired to care, especially Bokuto. Come to think of it, you had never seen him this quiet before. Training must have drained him too much, they were going to have an important match soon too. You wanted to comfort him but didn't know what to do.

You softly gazed at him as you laid on his chest, he had his eyes closed, probably was seconds away from falling asleep. You slid your fingers through his soft hair, Bokuto hummed visibly satisfied with the action. You smiled and continued to scratch his scalp, hoping to relax him more. You felt like you were seeing a new side of him and it made your heart soft, it almost felt like he would start purring any second now. Maybe that's why you didn't stop yourself and leaned in to peck him softly. Bokuto opened his eyes and gave you the softest smile, his hands slowly crept and laid on your hips. You couldn't really help yourself and leaned in again to place another peck on his soft lips, then another and before you knew it you were basically littering his face with kisses. Bokuto's chest rambled from laughter, as he tried to return every single kiss, his hands now tightly grabbing your hips.

You wanted to kiss him some more but he seemed to have other plans, in one swift motion he was up and had you straddling his lap. You wanted to protest but he didn't let you as he leaned in and gave you a deep kiss that had you breathless in seconds.

"You're really cute you know that right?" He mumbled against your neck as he gave soft kisses there and there. You only gaped at him still struggling to catch your breath. He lifted his gaze so that he was staring at your eyes. "As much as I love you kissing me all over it's my turn now." The last part made you shiver, it was like fatigue had completely left his body, and let's just say you had a really long night that day...

Oikawa Tooru

It was just a normal saturday and you were chilling in your apartment, drinking your favorite beverage and just trying to rest but your boyfriend had other plans. The door of your house opened with a loud noise startling you, almost making you spill your drink all over yourself. You glared at the culprit but he didn't seem to mind. Oikawa stomped his way to you, lifted your legs without saying any word and placed them in his lap as he sat down next to you. Yes, yuu were the one who gave him the key in case of the emergency but you didn't expect the emergency to happen literally the next day.

"You won't believe the day I had!" He fumed, it made you roll your eyes, but you stopped when you noticed the glare he gave you.

"Why won't you tell me about it? Promise I will listen." There was a tinge of teasing in your voice but he didn't pay any mind, he wanted to vent and that's what he was going to do.

He started telling you about how terrible the day has been so far, how he stepped in the mud with his brand new shoes and ruined them when he was on a morning jog, how they messed up his order in the local cafe he went to, how someone cut him off in a line, and you had to listen to a whole monologue how Atsumu miya was the most inssuferable bastard who ever walked the earth! He didn't even rant this much about Kageyama or Ushijima and he hated their guts. Atsumu Miya really had to be something to get your boyfriend this worked up, he was even switching languages while talking!

You tried to take him seriosly, you really did, but he looked really irresistible. He was so cute ranting about his "troubles" you couldn't help but find him adorable. So, as soon as he was done with his monologue you leaned in and gave him a soft peck, and after noticing how he chased your lips, visibly enjoying affection you gave yourself a green flag and started littering kisses everywhere you could see and reach, and from the looks of how putty your boyfriend became he also enjoyed himself.

"Wanna cuddle and watch some shitty movies? I will even play with your hair since you had such a hard day." You suggested when you leaned back to catch your breath. He looked at you with dazed eyes, his gaze constantly switching to your eyes to your lips. He looked so beautiful, his cheeks all flushed, his lips red and swollen, his chest moving up and down to regain his breath, red marks all over his neck and collarbone... It almost made you want to rawish him, it took everything to control yourself

"I need to have more shitty days if it means I will get treated like this every time!" He mumbled against your chest as he made himself comfortable there. His comment made you chuckle, you slide your hand though his hair and as promised started playing with his locks.

"Or you can just ask me." Oikawa let out a satisfied hum and cuddled you more. You couldn't spend your saturday better.

Iwaizumi Hajime

Many would say that your boyfriend, Iwaizumi Hajime, was really intimidating and even call him scary but to you he was literally cutest person ever. Even now you watched him with stars in your eyes as he very enthusiastically explained to you how Godzilla could totally beat Kingkong's ass. You had only asked him how his day went, you had no clue how the conversation led to this, but, honestly, you didn't really mind. You felt smitten over the fact he was the most adorable little nerd ever!

As he finished proving his point and waited for your input you did the only thing you thought of doing for the past few minutes. You bought him closer by his belt loop and connected your lips. Iwaizumi stiffened for a sacond but soon relaxed, and, surprisingly, even let you take the lead. He rested his hands on your hips as he leaned against the counter. You took this chance and kissed him to your heart's content. When you got breathless you moved from his lips to his neck and collarbones which peaked from his oversized hoodie. He looked absolutely adorable, his cheeks were flushed, his ears were all red, lips red and swollen. You wanted to tease him more. Iwaizumi glared at you for a second, he kept grumbling about how you were not taking him seriously but he also did nothing to stop you.

You wanted to call out on his cute behaviour, but he had other plans. The next thing you knew you were thrown over his shoulder and he led you to your shared bedroom. Let's just say had his revenge on you, not that you minded.

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rayshippouuchiha · 12 days

Photo

diagonal knit blanket for my sis! original pattern wasn’t working out (too busy, didn’t play well with the colors) so had to start over. but i like this better anyway, it stripes prettier and is very easy to zone out with while watching youtube or tv. blankets are soothing to make, because they’re big enough to challenge me, but also useful, and depending on the pattern, can also hold my interest.

This is baby blanket #3. It’s being made with acrylic mini skeins that were a christmas gift. pattern is Cambrie by wool and stitch. I’ve got a light-dark-light-dark thing going, which is coming out nicely. don’t know for sure if i’ll use all the skeins since i’m nowhere near the length needed, but if nothing else i’ll go until i’m satisfied.

baby blankets 1&2! (ignore the terrible lighting) they were supposed to be for a coworker that was having twins, but then she left before i was done, and i couldn’t reach her at the number she gave me, then the other one i had didn’t work, and i never got a response, so they ended up going to a cousin of mine that recently had a baby. my aunt is gonna pass them along for me, so i’m just happy they’ll get used. these were done last year, i think i finished that brown and gray one in…November? or October. (side note, i am NEVER doing an 8-row pattern for a blanket again jfc it took FOREVER). brown and gray is garter rib, blue and white is eeny meenie minie mo, the aforementioned 8-row, which drove me nuts because i still think my stitch count was off somewhere, or there was an issue with the pattern. X_X both were done in cotton. still pleased with how they came out since they were my first ever baby blankets. :D

this wacky thing is also diagonal knit, but with chunky chenille yarn (also a christmas gift). why i decided to make it diagonal knit as well, i don’t know. it’s a side project that gets worked on whenever i’m in the mood to fiddle with it. will probably give it to my aunt as she does not have a blanket from me yet.

my stepdad’s blanket! also done in acrylic, it took 5 cakes of caron super bulky. pattern is called bamboo, even though you can’t really see it in the pic. this was finished literally 2 months ago, and i almost ran out of yarn, but had enough to finish the border. i won yarn chicken, juuuust barely.

my mom’s blanket! i finished that one last year too. I don’t remember if I showed this one or not. I did not make a finishing border because i wasn’t paying attention, so i had just enough yarn to bind off. i used the caron anniversary cake for it. frigging huge thing of yarn. remember kids, always keep track of your rows! pattern is broken rib. and yes, when i finished both blankets, i literally left them on their chairs for my mom/stepdad to find in the morning.now, i haven’t forgotten about your blanket. in fact i recently got the needles and a couple skeins of yarn for it. did a test run of the pattern, and now i mostly just need to figure out how many stitches to cast on for proper width, and then how many more skeins i will need altogether. it took me forever to actually DECIDE what to use, because my initial yarn pick never seemed to have the right colors in stock, and my other choices just didn’t seem right. :/ but i’ll need to get 2 more skeins in the right colors, and go from there. i’ll be using lion brand hometown, which is also considered super bulky/chunky. once i have everything, i’ll start fiddling with it and share progress.

#submission #holy shit yeah #watching you grow as a fiber artist has been a pleasure and a delight

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xiaojunsdiary · 7 months

Text

fraud

yoon jeonghan x male! ftm! reader

prompt: you’re the newer member added onto seventeen around aju nice era and you have a secret that you’ve done a pretty good job hiding until someone finds out

warnings: minor transphobic comments ONLY because jeonghan doesn’t get that you’re trans right away but he’s really sorry about it, jeonghan is NOT transphobic!!! angst, body dysmorphia, body image, insecurity, me projecting, i accidentally switch between 2nd and 3rd POV, slight suggestive at the end

word count: 896

mn had already felt like an outcast when he had joined seventeen. he wasn’t completely fluent in korean, could barley hold a conversation but that could be delt with. what really made him feel like an outcast was the lack of a certain body part.

the members didn’t know this. no one really did except your parents, the company, and best friend back home. and you planned to keep it that way. the company required you to get top surgery before you could join in seventeen. you didn’t mind, in fact you were thrilled. they paid for it as well as your testosterone.

but that didn’t stop the thoughts that filled your head all the time. from being around so many beautiful attractive men made you feel so insecure.

especially jeonghan, who while carried feminine qualities, still looked masculine. like a man should.

the members never treated you differently, they didn’t even tease you about your smaller frame. they didn’t have any reason to. especially woozi.

but the thoughts never stopped flowing through your head.

“why can’t i gain muscles as easily as them? why can’t i have a naturally masculine physic.

why couldn’t i have been born male?”

it hurt. a lot. knowing that even when the bottom surgery could’ve been provided, you still could never be fully satisfied. you had to wait a little while before you could get it done. and while you longed for a penis, the thought of truly changing your identity scared you.

while removing your breasts was scary, you were 100% sure about it. but your vagina…you weren’t. and that had caused a second wave of thoughts to go through your head as you turned the shower handle off, cutting off the endless stream of hot moisture.

as you got out of the shower, you tried not to think about the internal battle your mind had just went through and grabbed a towel to wipe off any access water.

while you were drying off your back facing the door, your worst nightmare happened:

the door began to open.

how could you not remember to lock the door?? the one rule you had bestowed upon yourself and you manage to break it. your eyes shown true panic as jeonghan opened the door.

“hey, mn, do you want-“ his words were cut off as he stared at you. he didn’t immediately look away as normal men wouldn’t,

“we’re all guys, why does it matter?”

they would normally say only you weren’t. or you didn’t feel like it.

“j-jeonghan!! can’t you ever knock??” you exclaimed wrapping the towel around your lower area quickly, a blush appearing across your cheeks.

“you’re a…woman?” he asked. he cocked his head to the sign as he examined your face for a reaction. your eyes glossed over after his accusation.

“no! i’m not! i’m a guy, j-just like you!” you pitifully stuttered.

“yes, you are. you have a vagina”, he continued, not understanding the power that sentence had on you.

“but i a-am”, you cried, a stray tear cascading down your right cheek.

“then how do you explain-“, he says while walking towards you, closing the door. he cuts himself off mid sentence as his eyes fall to your chest. a very faint line of a scar, underneath where your absent breasts once were. his eyes widen a little at his sudden realization.

“ohhh, you’re…” he trails off as he looks into your face for conformation. you nod your head weakly as the tears you were holding it release themselves.

“you c-can’t tell anyone, hannie, please” you begged, “please don’t out me. i love seventeen. i don’t wanna get kicked o-out.” your sobs getting mildly louder as your begging continued, the sound breaking his heart, as well as your own in a way. your knees gave out as you collapsed to the ground covering your chest.

“i won’t, i promise,” he said as he kneeled down with you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder, squeezing you tighter.

he removed it only to bow all the way down to the ground.

“i’m so sorry, mn. i didn’t mean to misgender you. i’m so, so sorry. please, forgive me. i’m really sorry. i’ll do whatever you need for me to make you feel more comfortable” he said while continuing to face the ground.

you quickly pulled him back up off the ground with a fierce blush on your face.

“th-there’s no need for all that, hannie. your apology was enough.” you state fixing his long hair.

he stared at you closely, really looked at you. he put his hand on your thigh that was midly exposed, the other hand on you right arm.

“are you okay? like do you feel okay now?” he asked, softly rubbing your thigh in a comforting manner.

you nodded.

“are you sure?” he pried.

you let out a small laugh at his urgencry.

“i am as of right now, hannie. thank you” you gave him a bright smile with a small bit of pink dusting your cheeks.

“you’re welcome,” he said, analyzing your face with a matching smile. his hands found their way onto your waist with a gentle grip. you could feel your face heating up.

“can i show you how much i adore you and your body?” he said, rubbing your sides softly.

you looked away, shy, and nodded your head.

“okay”

****************************************************

if i do a part 2, it’ll be smut. y’all want that??

started: 09-24-23

finished: 09-24-23

#kpop idol x male reader #seventeen x male reader #seventeen #kpop #male reader #trans reader #ftm #ftm reader #seventeen x ftm reader #svt #jeonghan #yoon jeonghan #jeonghan x male reader #yoon jeonghan x male reader #Spotify

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