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#but i'm glad i'm finally finished with this it's been on my mind for SO long
mechaknight-98 · 2 days
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Uncanny (NSFW) FT: Arin
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Author’s note: I like Arin as well but I went with a different approach.
A couple of days after what I guess you could call my "bullying" of Hyeju, our little friend group met up again, as we had planned. Arin and I ended up being late due to circumstances beyond our control—a rainstorm that felt almost biblical in its intensity. Arin laughed as we finally entered her car.
"You know, this reminds me of the time we fell for each other," Arin reminisced.
"Yeah, it was a cloudy morning like this," I responded.
"Cloudy? It was pouring," Arin corrected.
I raised an eyebrow. "Huh, oh, I guess that day has such a weird recollection in my head."
"Yeah, me too, but I distinctly remember the rain and seeing how soaked Jacob and you were," Arin replied. "To think we were at each other's throats, and in a split second, we were making out on the floor."
"Yeah, love is weird," I said.
Jacob was grinning ear to ear as we walked to his car. "We're going to this party—there will be girls, grub, and, best of all, games," he said excitedly. I nodded as I got in the car with him. The synthetic smell of maple and brown sugar bombarded me uncomfortably.
"Dude, do you have to have the most obnoxious air freshener?" I teased.
Jacob laughed before saying, "Oh, so you insult my taste, huh? Well, what if I were to tell you that shirt is terrible?" He teased back.
I smiled and responded, "Nope, you can't hurt me. I'm too excited—I've been watching them for so long, so finally going to see Core-A in person seems sick."
"Me too," he said as he started his car.
When he went to shift gears he gave a weird look and then said something odd, "Oh, one thing—don't be mad," he said.
I raised an eyebrow. "What is it?"
"Arin is going to be there," Jacob responded, and I died a little inside.
I groaned. "Is it too late for me not to go?"
"Dude, she's a 5'5'' girl. You'll be fine, Mr. Legendary Spell Fencer," Jacob reassured me. I scratched my hair nervously, thinking about possible outs.
"I don't know, the last time we met, we yelled at each other for two hours," I said.
"I remember—you guys sounded like an old married couple... Maybe that's it. Maybe you two like each other, but your minds misattribute the attraction with spite. Maybe the two of you just need to kiss, and the wires will be crossed correctly," Jacob suggested as he drove off, sealing my fate.
I rolled my eyes and confidently explained, "There is no way."
Jacob hesitated as if remembering something. "Well, remember how the first time you guys fought, afterward you were all hot and bothered thinking about her for two weeks? It was also weird because you would say all these nice things about her like 'How could someone so compassionate and smart be so damn pig-headed and boorish? I hate that vexing bitch.' You know, weirdly flirty stuff," Jacob said teasingly. I looked at him with an "Are you serious?" look. He laughed, of course.
"Hey, it's just a theory," he finished.
After that, for the most part, we rode in silence until we reached Core-A's studio and the location of the party. We got out of Jacob's baby blue VW Beetle, which he lovingly referred to as the "Love Bug" (which I believe is copyrighted, but I could be wrong). We walked into the purple venue, though the atmosphere breathed competition without the sweaty smell. The air was chilled to a comfortable level as we filed in along with a few others.
"Ah, Jac, glad you could make it," a tall Korean man said as he approached us. He hugged Jacob, who smiled, and then the man sized me up.
"You must be Daizohan?" the Korean man asked.
I nodded affirmatively. "I am."
He extended his hand and introduced himself, "Nice to meet you. My name is Gerald Lee."
I couldn't help but grin widely. "I know who you are. I'm a huge fan. I've watched all your channel's videos and loved what you have done, not only for the fighting game community but for competitive communities everywhere," I raved.
Gerald Lee smiled, then said, "Please, then enjoy yourself, make friends, eat, and have fun. I only ask that you be respectful. Some pretty public figures are roaming about who would like their privacy," I nodded in agreement.
"Sure thing, sir," I replied, to which he chuckled before walking away.
Jacob nudged me, pointing out, "Dude, I've never seen you smile that big."
I squinted at him, annoyed. "Jacob, that's one of my heroes."
Jacob laughed at my expense, "I can tell. Now, don't get too excited, but I think they have your favorite over there." I turned to see the familiar loading screen and couldn't contain my excitement. I lifted my hand in anticipation and walked over to the TV. It was exactly what I had hoped for: Tatsunoko VS Capcom. I sat down, feeling nostalgic as I hadn't played the game since childhood. Despite its age and my lack of recent practice, I was instantly transported back to the date of its release, a ten-year-old rediscovering his first fighting game and embarking on a decades-long love affair. I was engrossed in the game when I heard a voice asking,
"Hey, can I play with you?"
"Uh, yeah, sure. Let me just quit this arcade match," I said as I exited my current run-through of the mode.
"I'm surprised you've been so invested; you haven't moved once since sitting here," the voice remarked.
"Well, this is my second favorite game of all time," I explained.
I noticed the voice sitting next to me, intrigued. "Oh, what's the first?"
"Kingdom Hearts II," I replied.
"Oh, I hear a lot about how complicated those games are," the voice said.
I smiled, replying, "Well, they're usually less complicated than life, to be honest." The voice laughed, causing me to smile. It was feminine and pleasant, making me feel like I was at a calming beach.
"This is my first time playing this one, so I don't know how to play. Can you teach me?" the voice asked. I nodded and turned to face her, handing her the controller. Our hands touched, and then our eyes locked, sending my emotions into warp drive.
"Arin?"
"Daizo?"
Arin and I looked at each other with equally confused expressions before she abruptly stood up and said, "Bathroom. Now." I followed her, hoping to avoid a scene. Thankfully, no one saw us enter the furthest one from the party.
Arin and I silently glared at each other until she spoke first, "What the hell are you doing here?"
"Um, I was invited by Jacob," I replied.
I watched as Arin rolled her eyes, “Yeah, of course, he'd invite you. God, I hate you cameramen sometimes.”
Unaware of the growing feelings within, I gave her the response she wanted, “Damn it, why are you always so mean? Like, what did I do to you?”
Arin rolled her eyes and teased, “You? Please. I'm sorry, but why would I ever be friends with such an attention whore? Did mommy and daddy never give you enough as a child?”
Seeing where this conversation was going, I decided to do something more interesting. I decided to play into her analysis.
“Actually, yes. My parents were consumed with work much of my childhood and had a rigid structure that maintained my physical safety but preyed upon my social and emotional safety as a special needs child, leading to severely stunted emotional and social growth but excellent physical and cognitive growth. This manifested as childhood chasing and severe attention-seeking behaviors. Thankfully, I'm risk-averse enough to have that rein me in from being an absolute menace. Also, if I am attention-seeking, so are you, as often you join me happily in that, as seen by the show we put on for Nagyung’s birthday where we argued for three hours.”
Arin stood there stunned. I watched as she tried to form a response until I got bored and walked away. She grabbed me and said, “Wait, Daizohan (she was using my full name, so I knew she was serious). I am sorry, I didn't know.”
I gave her a kind smile and replied, “It's all good. I also didn't realize until just now when you were talking about it.”
Arin smiled, and that same feeling of a wave washing over me crept up. “Well, now that you know, I expect better from you,” I nodded, and we walked back to Tatsunoko vs. Capcom. While walking, I noticed how pretty Arin was. Like, she was distractingly pretty.
As we walked back, that distraction caused me to walk into a metal pole. Obviously, I fell, but Arin was quick to pick me up and begin scolding me about “staying aware.”
As Arin spoke and droned on and on, my body sent a shiver down my spine before sending a weird impulse to my brain.
“Arin’s stern scolding is kinda of hot; she makes a great and nurturing mother. I should make her a mother,” my brain told me, and I jolted. Arin noticed, and for a moment, the animosity in her eyes dissipated, and I saw something I wasn't expecting: genuine concern.
Arin’s features softened from a disgusted grimace to concerned caution as she said, “Are you okay? You just jumped!” I nodded, standing there dumbfounded. “Good,” she continued, “Hey, don't scare me like that, Daizo.”
In an instant, all that animosity turned into this overwhelming desire to kiss her. Before I knew it, all I could think about besides how pretty her eyes were with her cute glasses was how to go about kissing her. So, I did. At first, it was awkward as Arin was combating similar competing feelings of infatuation and infuriation. After a few seconds though, she joined me in choosing to be infatuated. After we broke the kiss Arin looked at me annoyed, “Damn it. Why did you have to be such a good kisser,” I laugh and say
“Would you believe you are my first kiss?”Arin’s eyes widened before taking me in for another kiss. This one is less chaste and innocent and sloppy I feel her tongue enter my mouth as she asserts her dominance over me. I feel her body pressed into mine and I feel a Plasma hot lust for her as she digs her nails into my shoulders. She breaks another kiss and says
“You’re coming home with me, and I'm going to ride you till we both see stars,” she said with a sexy confidence that shook me. As we walked out of the game center we bumped into Jacob and Nagyung.
“Oh, Daizo and Arin…why are you two holding hands?” Nagyung asked worried. Arin stammered trying to say something about getting food.
“But there's food here?” Nagyung pointed out. I watched as the gears began to spin in her head.
“I'm going to help her with some chord alignment,” I responded Jacob heard me, looked at me, looked at Arin, then began to smirk. Thankfully he didn't explain to Nagyung the greater context as he cleared the runway for us, and similarly to a jet, Arin raced away with my hand in hers. On the drive to her place, she kept a rather possessive hand over my cock the entire time she would caress it at every stop and would say something like,
“I can't wait to choke on it!” or “Are you going to be a good boy when you stuff that cock in me?” What got me going though was when (at her last stop) she grabbed my hand and placed it down her pants I felt how sodden she was. Watching me squirm next to her she gripped my cock and said
“I can't wait to break you in and make you my perfect little fuck toy. I am going to fuck all those complex thoughts and combo chains right out of your pretty little head until all you can do is beg me to let you cum again and again.” as she spoke she started stroking my cock.
“Do you like it when I take charge? Do you like it when I do all the thinking,” she asked as she stroked me. I nodded and she cooed in a deliciously evil tone, “Come on Toy use your words,” The combination was almost too much and I almost came then and there but she said, “Don’t cum yet toy. I want your first load to be deep inside my cunt,” to emphasize her point she gripped my rod with a severe intensity causing a bit of plain with the pleasure. I moaned out a hoarse,
“God yes break me please and put me back together as yours,” Arin smiles before she responds
“I will Toy. Just wait.”
We arrive at her house and we rip our clothes off. She walks over to her countertop and bends over so I can see her perky ass and tight body.
“Well, toy what are you waiting for? Fill my pretty pussy,” she coaxes me with a cute wiggle of her ass and I scramble towards her. She chuckles as she watches me almost fall on my way to her. “Are you excited toy?” Arin interrogated.
“Very!” I exclaim
“Well then let my pussy claim you as its first. She says in a simmered voice that borders on coy and sexy.
I glanced toward Arin and asked “How did you know,”
She smiled knowingly before coyly replying, “I'll tell you later,” and she guided me in. As she forced me into her tight and wet hole we both moaned. A huge wave of tension was relieved between us.
“Fuck Arin you're so tight,” I said fighting a losing battle against trying to bottom out inside of her. Arin moaned enraptured by our shared struggle and pleasure. She laughed and said,
“Well, I should be! It's my first time as well toy.” her words strike a chord within me as the depth of what's happening hit me. That and her pussy slowly molding itself to my shape. (it was a lot to process ya know.) As I get closer to her core she moans again and then says, “Force it in please rail me I need it,” despite her increasing wetness it's still a struggle but when I do bottom out in her the relief is immeasurable and immediate. We stay there for a moment as each of our bodies proudly claim the other. In this state of delirium, I say the following full of conviction despite our recent status.
“Oh my God, I love you so much. God I'm gonna marry you.” Arin’s eyes lock with mine as I feel her tighten even more. Her look of lust and surprise is viciously sexy.
“I want to bicker, with fuck you, be lectured by you for the rest of my life,” I ramble as I begin thrust Arin blushes, and quickly regains her composure.
“So my toy wants me forever hm… I'll think about it,” Arin says before moaning as she matches my thrusts.
“Hey, toy can flip me over? I want to watch you become obsessed with me. The desperation in your voice. The conviction I want to see the exact moment I claim you as my plaything,” Arin said luridly, lost in the moment I flipped her over and did as she asked. We lock eyes and I lose it. Her seductive expression. her petite breast. Her saying, “Keep fucking me like a good boy!” it's all too much and it sends me over the edge. I cum in her and she moans. When I'm done she laughs which makes me feel terrible before she says,
“No that was not a disparaging laugh but a happy laugh. I wanted you to explode in my pussy in you did. Your stamina will come in time as we navigate this together,” I nod feeling less shame. Arin smiles as she gets on her knees and begins to suck my cock. I feel an intense sensitivity from her mouth as she explores my flesh.
“Your reactions are so cute. I can see you holding in your moans, but I am going to need you to stop that. I want to see my good boy beg and scream for release. So please get loud for me.”
I moan at Arin’s sultry tone she chose before she licks over a particularly sensitive area that draws out intense screams. Arin’s eyes widen with delight as she begins to massage my balls I desperately try to hold my cum in. I don't want to disappoint her but she's finding and hitting all my weak spots.
“Fuck I'm close,” I groan. Arin smiles she stops and leads me to her bedroom she lays me down and mewls closely to me while tracing lines around my body
“I can't decide if I want you in my mouth, ride you, or have you fuck me again,” Arin said and I decided to choose for her. I kiss her before she can decide and let an errant hand down to her lower lips and circle her clit. She groans in rapture. “Good boy taking the initiative,” she moans as I continue my amateurish assault on her body. “A little softer baby,” she said as she tensed around me before she lost control. She pushed me into my back her eyes blurred with lust as she began to ride me. “I need this cock,” she moaned as she bounced on my dick. Her petite breasts jiggle melodically as she takes me again and again. Our combined sexes continue their quest to mold each other in the pursuit of being perfect for each other.
“Oh god yes, I love this cock. I want this cock to be my cock.” Arin said enraptured. I smile as she chases her high. I smile and groan as I feel her tighten around me before she says “cum with me good boy,” I smile as I watched her orgasm hit. As it did she bounced on my cock with a higher intensity trying to coax me to cum. Ultimately she is successful as I paint her guts white. After that Arin sighed “We should probably head back,” she said. I sighed and nodded as I got up and got ready to go back with her. as we put our underwear back on. Arin smiles at me and says, “What?”
“Oh nothing just remembering our first time together Arin smiles as we get in her car and drive to Nagyung and Jacob’s place.
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vibratingskull · 2 days
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Hello! I really enjoy your writings, the way you write Thrawn in some settings can be so wholesome and sweet and I really love seeing the character in that kind of light. Especially the aroace one and when he’s with the different families you gave him, regardless of how old the kids are or what their dynamic is.
For your requests, do you think you could write Thrawn holding his firstborn child for the first time? I think it’d be interesting and sweet to see him get kinda nervous about the prospect of finally meeting them before his heart fills with so much love upon seeing his baby and being so happy for the finally he now has.
Hope you’re having a wonderful day and that you have fun with all your requests coming in ❤️
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art by @blackmonitor
Edit cause i forgot the top message:
Everytime someone ask me about Aroace Thrawn I gain 1+ year in my lifespan! Dad!Thrawn is also so important to me, it is kind off pathetic of me. I'm very glad you like my soft, fluff stories about him, he truly deserves the world and a family that loves him unconditionnaly! Have a great day too my sweet ❤️
Thrawn x F!reader
Tags: Dad!Thrawn, premature baby, skin to skin, father baby connection, soft dad Thrawn
Thrawn caresses your temple with his knuckles, silently looking at you taking a nap. It has been long and torturous but you did it! Against all odds and predictions, you actually did it. It was difficult, dangerous for you and the baby, and they came out premature, but you did it! 
Oh brave you. 
Oh warrior you. 
He feels so grateful for you giving birth to your baby. He held your hand during the entire process, hugging your shoulders as you pushed hard, losing your blood and your sanity in the pain. But you persevered and delivered your newborn despite all the complications due to you two being different species. 
Right now your baby is between the hands of the medics, leaving you two to breathe and trying to relax. You didn't even have time to take your newborn in your arms, the medics immediately took them. 
You both knew the risks of having a hybrid baby, but you both hoped to have at least the time to take a look at them before they got taken away. But their health signals ordered the medics to put them in urgent care immediately. 
So Thrawn spent the last three hours with you, trying to ease your worries and looking over you napping. Your labor was so intense and painful tiredness took precedence over your fear and you ended up sleeping, too exhausted after such a trial. 
He looks at you, full of love and admiration. Since Bridger captured the Chimaera to bring her to Peridea, morphine stocks are rare and sparse. He wished he could have given you some but you refused when the droid proposed it. You refused to have the comfort of painkillers when they could be used to mend the wounds of your troops on the battlefield. He tried to convince you that you had the right, days before labor started but you were adamant! You wanted to set an example as his wife and Commander. 
You chose the way of pain to give life to the most perfect being in the Universe, the love of his life, the light of his days. And for that his gratitude is infinite. 
“Grand Admiral?” The careful voice of his head doctor raises in his back, snatching him off his contemplation of your sleeping form, “We just finished. Do you wish to see them?” 
Thrawns contemplates them up and down in silence before leaning forward, gently kissing your forehead. He pulls the cover over you and straightens his back before turning towards his medic. 
“Lead the way.” He placidly responds. 
After three long hours of uncertainty, the doctor appears a bit unsure but nothing in their demeanor indicates any high-stress level, Thrawn concludes that whatever medical procedures your baby needed, they have been able to deliver. 
As they silently walk Thrawn’s mind starts asking…weird questions. 
Was it painful for the baby ? 
Did they feel scared ? 
Did they cry for their mother, powerless as they were manipulated by strangers ? 
Did they feel cold at any moment ? 
Did they try to reach for any of you two with their little hands only to meet the void ? 
“Here we are, Grand Admiral.” 
Thrawn stops before the door… terrified. What if… the medics failed ? He doesn't read any bodily signs typical of tension in them but is he himself in the right mindset to read them after such a hard birth and pregnancy ?  
“How are they ?” He demands, imperial, never letting any doubts or fear slip through in his demeanor as he knows so well. 
He internally prays to have read them correctly. The head medic looks at him, their lips in a thin line, searching for their words. 
“Authorization to speak freely ?” 
Thrawn nods, his expression closed off and unreadable. 
“It wasn't pretty. To be frank, your baby is a miracle survivor, we are not equipped properly for babies’ care and health monitoring, but I also notified you of the risks of giving birth to a hybrid.” 
Thrawn ever so slightly squints, a subtle threat and call to order. The doctor decides to cut the story short. 
“You are incredibly lucky Grand Admiral, truly. I don't know if we would be able to repeat this feat for a second baby, especially stranded on this wretched planet.” the doc extends his hand towards the open room  “They are sleeping.” 
Thrawn considers the open door and wonders for a second if he has the strength to walk into the room before getting a grip. 
Of course, none of his turmoil is visible, and his hesitation lasts less than a second. He walks into the little room, a former waiting area reconverted into a nursery. 
It’s not perfect, no battleships ever saw a nursery before. They had to do with what they had to accommodate new life on Peridea. He advances towards the bassinet, perceiving the heat signals through the material. 
He, oh so slowly, approaches the little form lying under a blanket. He feels like his heart is going to explode under the pressure.  
They are blue ! 
Just like him. 
But they have your hair color and your nose The cheekbones and forehead bumps are unmistakably his.  
He leans forward to observe better. 
He never witnessed such… perfection before. This is simply the most beautiful being to ever exist in the cosmos. The perfect mix of their father and mother. 
His heart bleeds at the nodes of the different monitors over their body and the tubes through their little nose, but it must be down to unsure their survival. 
“They are stable now, but they will need to remain for some time.” The medic explains, coming behind their Grand Admiral. 
Thrawn tilts his head, his eyes never leaving the baby, looking at them moving in their sleep, eyes closed shut. Inadvertently, he feels his hands clasped behind his back starting to tremble. He isn’t even touching them but he fears to hurt them in any way. 
They are just so small. 
And him so big... 
What if he causes pain to his baby by trying to hold them? What if he hurt them more than they are already wounded? He could never forgive himself. Maybe it is better if he abstains from any physical contact. 
Yes. 
That is for the best. 
“What gender are they?” He asks without lifting his gaze from this absolute perfection. 
“It is a brave little girl.” The medic explains, a small voice audible in their voice, “My congratulations, Grand Admiral.” 
His heart skips a beat. 
A little girl? 
Just as he so dear hoped. He always desired a daughter. You were neutral on the question but he knew deep down that he was meant to father a little girl. 
And there she is! 
His little warrior... 
“A daughter...” He repeats like he has difficulties realizing his chance. 
The baby seems to react and agitate herself in the incubator. 
“She recognizes your voice. You should try and hold her, she needs comfort after this... trial.” The medic explains. 
Thrawn smiles, his expression hidden from the doctor. She recognizes his voice... 
The voice of her father. 
He spent so much time talking to your bump during those seven months of pregnancy, in hopes the baby would be able to recognize him and associate him with safety and comfort. 
His heart clenches knowing he succeeded. 
He tentatively enters the incubator with his large hand and very delicately caresses his daughter’s cheek with his knuckle. 
She is so warm. 
Like a Chiss. 
She seems to yawn and tries to seize his large finger in her tiny fist, desperately longing for some warmth too. His hands travel to her tummy and gently brush it. 
Warrior... She is so small compared to him, that he feels he could crush her in his fist. That thought distraught him so terribly that he stops his caress, much to his daughter’s dismay who lets out a whine escape her. 
“Take her in your arms. The first hours are important for a baby’s general well-being.” 
“Leave us alone, please.” Thrawn orders nonchalantly, hiding his worries from view. 
Once the medic leaves, he carries a chair closer to the crib and gets rid of his white jacket and black tank shirt to very tenderly seize his daughter. He takes care of holding her fragile head correctly and supporting her body, not pulling off the nodes of the monitors, and sits down on the chair, pressing his baby girl against his warm Chiss skin, in a soothing skin-to-skin contact. 
Maker she is so light and fragile... He suddenly feels so terribly clumsy with such a precious package in his hands. 
She babbles in her sleep, agitating herself in his hands. She holds her tight to not risk dropping her, pressing her soft precious body against his beating heart.  
It feels good. 
It feels right. 
He instantly feels a new connection forming between himself and his baby. She seems to try and get a grip on him, to hold him close, to keep the warmth source against her sensitive baby skin. 
“Hello, little one.” He speaks softly with his deep melodious voice. 
A sound that seems to please her immensely because she seems to try to smile despite all her tubes. He delicately cradles her. 
“You scared us immensely, you know? But here you are, at last... My baby.” 
Thrawn isn’t a man prone to sentimentalism, but in the intimacy of the hug, he can’t help himself. He needs to whisper sweet nothing to his baby, deepening the connection further. 
“You are already so loved, little one. We dreamed for your arrival for years. Ch’eo k’eten, ch’eo euhn ch'etecerci.”  
The baby presses her cheek against his peck, letting herself sooth by her father’s heartbeat. She appears so appeased right now, sleeping soundly in his arms. At her true place. 
“My pride, my jewel...” 
He gently lifts her higher for her little head to rest in the crook of his neck, inhaling her scent. It is pleasant and relaxing, almost familiar like a song he had known for years. 
He sighs. 
Soon his shift will resume. And he will have to leave you both behind in the med bay to ensure the Chimaera’s safety. 
But for now, he will indulge as much as he can. He also hopes to be present for your first meeting with her, he longs to see your elated expression when he will bring your your firstborn. 
“Welcome to the world, little Thashao. I vow to protect you from any harm, my sweet, my treasure...” 
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@bluechiss @thrawnalani @justanothersadperson93 @al-astakbar@thrawnspetgoose @readinglistfics @elise2174 @debonaire-princess @twilekchiss @pencil-urchin @ineedazeezee @mssbridgerton @dance-like-russia-isnt-watching @Cortisolcosplay @obbicrystaleo @germie2037
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shanghuuo · 1 year
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how could you recognize me after all these years? what a stupid question. i was born knowing you.
— longwei liu & xiang li ( @diimsum )
i. 痞子英雄 black & white (2009) //  ii. 镇魂 guardian (2018) // iii. naruto shippuden (2007) // iv. 兄弟 brotherhood, mayday // v. over the garden wall (2014) // vi. intimacy, hanif kureishi // vii. ohayō (1959) // viii. twitter post by negaversace // ix. brother bear (2003) // x. brothers, Братья 
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Don't let people tell you who you are.
You tell them.
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fortune-maiden · 2 years
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Are the Geofront saves really compatible with the Officially released version of Zero O_O
Those mad lads!
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noxtivagus · 1 year
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i've been getting back to a lot of my interests again hehe
#🌙.rambles#i haven't played much of arknights ever since my failed attempts at pulling ebenholz#i was rlly playing actively until then 😭 BUT IM RLLY GLAD I'M ACTUALLY FINALLY GOTTEN TO PLAYING MORE#watching anime w apollo like that day during christmas break n since then. i've been like#jjk uh. getou n megumi ><#n hdjaflksdjf yh i think it's pretty obvious w a lot of my rambles last month my brainrots w ffvii & ffxv#funny thinking abt how a lot of my fav characters have that prominent gay ship#OH YEAH.... while it was like. grealy stuff like final fantasy/granblue fantasy last december#lucifer lucilius lucio belial lancelot n cain. still take up a lot of my mind on the gbf end. help#n then it's been a while but i rlly want to read lingering echoes i rlly do (i havent yet) but there's that anxiety idk what to call it aaa#i WILL get to playing arknights again tho soon#6.3 ffxiv is also coming so soon omg#HELP THERE'S SO MUCH I WANT TO DO N I RLLY WANT TO DO THEM but. HDLKAJLFKSD >.>#every saturday apollo n i have this review thing in preparation for yh n honestly i'm also excited for that#friday we have this training thing for the business committee we got accepted to for our school fair#i'm excited for that too i love responsibility i love duties#random but i'm still obsessed with. from the heavens & invincible ffxiv#there's sm things i love n am passionate abt n want to do you see my dilemma 😭 yk what i'll log into ffxiv a bit#i've been farming side stories in gbf for the past few hours n multitasking w other stuff too#i'll finish the rest of my assignments for next week too i'm nearly done w them.#it's funny actually bcs the day they were given i was working on them n very nearly finished but i rested a bit n i didn't return to it 🫣#I WILL BE PRODUCTIVE NOW THO BYE <3#wait my ffxiv sub ran out......... 💀#my ffxiv hyperfixation is still as strong as ever i cld just ramble abt drk or hermes or any of the expacs n zero on n on without end#so much to do n it is rather stressful but i'm happy like this hehe i love success
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a-b-riddle · 14 days
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Part Five
Can't stop thinking about the attempt of reconciliation and reader ain't having it. Our girl is going to be wilddddd y'all. Also goodnight. See y'all tomorrow (maybe)
You call Meredith when you get home.
You. Are. Fuming. She's not sure she can ever remember a time you using so many swear words at one time.
How fucking dare them? Immature? You're the immature one? You were the one trying your best to salvage four failing relationship meanwhile none of those assholes could be bothered to try and keep one. They had one person to manage: you.
"I wanna go out this weekend." "Wear something tight and borderline risk indecent exposure."
"You know what I always say," Meredith begins. "The best way to get over someone-"
"is to get under someone else." You finish. You weren't exactly keen on the idea of bringing someone to your bed just yet, but a little attention would do you some good. "I don't want to fuck someone just yet." You admitted. "I'm more on the getting drunk and making out."
"I didn't know we resorted back secondary school heavy petting?" She teased.
"University, Dear." You corrected. "I didn't peak until after I graduated."
"No." She argued. "You didn't put your books down long enough to realize that boys actually wanted to fuck you." You were glad she couldn't see you roll your eyes. "Saturday work for you? I have a late night Friday and won't be up for it."
"That works."
"Sorry." She apologized. "I plan on getting you absolutely smashed so I need to be ready to play the nanny. I know how you love to get drunk and run off."
It was true. You had always found it hilarious when you were drunk to just run. Quite literally run away. It got to a point during university where Meredith would handcuff you to her so you didn't stray.
"I won't run." Your sober mind promised.
"Uh huh." Meredith's tone told you that she knew that was a load of shit. "I'll text Tabs. Let her know the plan."
The next day at the shop was pretty uneventful. No more unexpected visitors. You still had them all blocked. Not caring if now they decided to offer up some bullshit apology.
Months. This had been a steady decline for six months. A text or a simply sorry won't fix this. You weren't sure anything could.
But it didn't matter. You were done and they obviously were too.
You had picked up enough take out to feed a family, but you didn't plan on making your lunch before work or cooking when you got home. The rest of the week you planned on just going through the motions until you could go out Saturday and hopefully get everything out.
You weren't paying attention as you walked down the hallway to your flat. Fishing in your purse for keys. You were at almost at your door when you saw him.
Sitting next to your door was a familiar face. A face you felt you haven't seen in forever.
“What are you doing here, Kyle?" Your voice was flat as you continued to blindly try and find your keys with one hand. Fuck. You really need to clean out your purse...
“My key wouldn’t work.” He explained. "So I’m out here.”
"I'm aware why you're not in my apartment since I changed the locks," you said, trying to keep your irritation at bay. "What I am asking is why did you come here?"
"You won't return any of our messages."
"You're all blocked, so technically I didn't really get any messages." "Besides, you don't get to complain to me about not responding to texts, Kyle Garrick." Your fingers finally wraps around them. God bless. "If you're here for your things, it'll have to wait. I have to sort through everyone's shit and I don't know whose is whose."
"We need to talk." He explains as you put the key into the lock, opening the door.
"Nah," you say scrunching your nose in that way he used to adore. "I'm good. But you can swing by tomorrow and pick up your things if you'd like." You say before trying to shut the door on him. You were stupid in thinking you could be faster than him.
Dammit.
"I know things haven't been good and I've definitely could have been better,'' he admits. "But can you at least try and let us apologize? Let us try and work it out."
"No." You answered, trying to close the door. Not caring if you had to resort to kicking his shins to get him out.
"Why not?" He countered.
“Maybe because I've already tried, Kyle?” You gave up on trying to shut him out. You were strong, but he didn't have any issues in besting you. “Because I actually tried with you. With all of you. You didn’t need to come here giving me excuses about your life being hectic because I’ve made the excuses for you.” You didn't miss how he practically flinched. He had always blamed his busy life. Family. Work. You stopped caring about whatever excuse he gave you and realized it was just that. An excuse. “I’ve been telling myself for months that everything you guys didn’t do for me wasn’t because you didn’t care about me. It was because of the stress of your deployments is the reason none of you tell me when you get back from until it’s time to fuck. I tell myself it’s because of the fucked up situation of me being with all of you that makes it awkward to meet your families. Families you all have that I now know I’m not worthy of meeting.” He wanted to correct you. You were. You were worthy. He was an idiot. “It’s not that I need your excuses to make me feel like what you did was justified. No matter what it was, it was apparently to you because you did it.”
He took a step back, processing everything you had said. He had been selfish. You were the reliable constant in his life. Someone he believed he never disappointed. Someone he couldn't disappoint no matter how many times he fucked up.
You took the opportunity to slam the door. Quickly turning the lock before he had a chance to open it back up.
God...
That felt good.
You had spent that evening collecting their thing in case Kyle did show back up tomorrow. You wouldn't make their lives easier by sorting all their shit and organizing it. Everything. One box. Let them figure it out. You almost had a mind to add a shirt that you knew didn't belong to any of them just to have them argue over it. Or least make them think there was someone else...
You were almost tempted if not for the premise that you wanted them to realize this was their fault. Their fuck up. But now that you were officially all broken up, you were free game.
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hoseoksluna · 2 months
Text
STEAM | myg ft. jjk
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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
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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.
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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.
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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. 
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nexusnyx · 1 year
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miss sunshine
pre-outbreak Joel Miller x neighbor!reader [7.3k] summary: He's always been out of reach. A fantasy. Joel was too much of everything—too handsome, too friendly, too una-fucking-vailable for any of you. Too bad his kid adores you. (What a blessing.) Too bad she uses you as a scapegoat and lands him right on his door. One bottle of wine, and Joel shows you he might be closer than you thought. 📝 I wanted to try something different. Less hurt, less end-of-the-world bullshit. Let me know your thoughts. Reblogs and comments are much appreciated. ⚠️Smut. Minors, DNI. Explicit depictions of sex, oral (f and m receiving), riding, missionary, passionate neighbors sex, yay.
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ㅤㅤㅤㅤTexas, Summer of 2002.
When the bell rings, you think it's best to ignore it.
Living alone equals a lot of privileges, but the ability to go out alone and answer the door on a random Wednesday evening was not one of them. You're wearing compromising clothes and a robe, the bottle of wine you craved was finally open, and the last thing you wanted was to be murdered before enjoying it.
Then, you hear it. Your name, followed by, "It's Miller. Joel."
Fuck.
Well—this is exactly how many of your dreams started. Although this wouldn't go like them, for him, you'd open the door.
His eyes do little to hide the once-over when the door slides open.
They go down, then back up, and he seems to catch on to the fact that you saw it. Then, he shakes his head just a little, and says, "Is Sarah here?"
Well, well, well. You lean against the door. "Did she say she was?"
Joel pierces you with his Dad Look. "Yes." Obviously, it goes without saying.
What other reason would he have, right? Clearing your throat, you feel the anxiety bubbling underneath the surface. "Uhm. She isn't," you look apologetic as you say it. As if it's your fault his prepubescent daughter uses you as a scapegoat.
His sigh is enough to make you feel how tired he is. Overworked. Exhausted.
You try to understand what might've happened before he loses his mind, "What time d'you usually come back from work? Maybe she's at a friend's. She probably thought you'd be back later than this."
He finishes rubbing both palms all over his face, and he threads one hand through his hair. "I'm usually back at nine—well, I'm supposed to be back at nine. I'm usually home by ten." That checks out, then. "But—that doesn't explain why she lied to me."
"Any special occasions coming up soon?"
Joel frowns. "Uhm. My birthday's in a few days, but—"
"Ahhhh." It shuts his mouth, the way you exclaim it so clearly. "She's brainstorming, Joel."
"Brainstorming...?"
"A gift." No daughter had easy access to what made their fathers happy. You take pity on him. "C'mon—let me scare the little one."
You walk inside without waiting for his reply, knowing Joel will make his way in. "What d'you mean, scare her?"
The noise of his boots hitting the floor makes you happy.
You take the phone out of the wall and look at him. "She always keeps that cellular phone with her when she goes out?"
"Always," he nods.
"Perfect." You know it by heart already. As you dial, you feel Joel's eyes on your house. It's the first he's ever been inside, and it makes you hyperaware of every movement of his. "It's ringing," you inform him with a grin forming.
He looks confused. More tired than anything else, but it'll make sense in a second.
"Hey, miss Sunshine!" the nickname she gave you always brings a smile to your face.
Time to put on a show. Feigning panic in your voice, you yell-whisper on the phone, "S, love, would you mind telling me why on Earth is your pops—" you fake cover your end of the line to yell, "one minute!" then you're back at whispering again, "why is he parked outside my house right now? Is there something I should know?"
"Oh, shit! Shit, shit, shit, shit—"
You're glad he can't hear her end of it. "No time for panic. Explain."
"I am so sorry, Sunny! I thought he'd be back in like, two hours or something. Oh, god, can you please cover for me? I wrote a note saying I was at your place. Sleeping there. I was gonna call you before he came back home but Jenny and I—"
"You're at somebody named Jenny?" you repeat the information, looking at Joel with a question in your eyes, and when he nods, your heart soothes at knowing she's safe. "And you didn't think to mention your brilliant idea earlier?" going for the full effect again, you yell out, "One minute, Joel!"
At least she's fast in her rambles. "Yeah, yeah. My best friend. She's trying to help me come up with a surprise for him. I'm not there often and it's never on his birthday. I wanna make it special."
"Okay. Cool. Next time, fill me in as you make the plans."
"I will, I promise. Pinky promise. You think you can convince him I'm sleeping there?" the plea in her voice is adorable.
You chuckle. "I've got you, S." Joel sighs in relief in front of you. "Just one thing."
"Yeah?"
"Be back here tomorrow first thing in the morning. 7:30 sharp. I'm gonna invite your dad for breakfast, as punishment for your lack of planning, and you'll be the one making us the pancakes," before she can even answer, you go, "Toodles!" and hang up.
When you put your phone back at the base, you turn around with a proud smile.
Joel's looking at you funny. "You're good at that," he says.
"At what? Acting?" you laugh when nods. "I was a trouble child. I'm great at lying."
"Aren't those the same?"
"Eh. A thin line separates them." You can sense his awkwardness creeping up, so you do your best to think on the spot. "Is she one to escape?"
"Not really, no." He's shuffling on his feet, uncertain of what to do in your home. "She's never done this before."
"From what she told me, she's never around for your birthday."
"That's true."
"She wants to make a surprise for you," you inform. It puts that smile on his face that makes your knees a little weak. "And now she has to be back here at seven in the morning. All is well."
He laughs. "Yeah, I guess so."
He's gonna see himself out. You swallow all the nervousness that being in his presence creates and just... goes for it. "Is it hard? Having a kid?"
That relaxes some of the tension in his shoulders. He leans on the counter of your kitchen and shakes his head. "Not really. It's a lot of work, but it's not hard. It's rewarding."
I wish my mother felt the same. You smile at the truth in his words. "I can see it's hard work." He laughs again. "Well—I had just opened that before you rang the bell," you point at the Pinot on top of the counter. "Want a glass? Unless you tell me you're 'only beer' kind of guy, then I can't help ya."
Joel looks between you and the bottle a couple of times, then looks down at himself. "I'm uh—I'm all greasy and gross from work. You sure that's the company you want for wine?"
Rolling your eyes, you walk towards your glasses cabinets. "If I told you that you can go home and shower, you'd never come back."
"And that'd be a bad thing?"
"Sure it would. You're the only person in this entire street that hasn't interrogated me on my life so far, I feel left out. Offended, even," you add with a dramatic twist. Your robe flows around you, and you can't help but smile when you see his eyes following you.
It's the way he swallows visibly, almost audibly, that plants a seed of maybe inside your head. "I'm not usually one to pry."
You place both glasses on the counter. "Neither am I."
"I know. It's why I like ya," Joel says it with eyes on the glasses instead of you. "That and the way you talk to the plants."
Your hand on the corkscrew stops, and you want to slam your forehead against the wood. "Oh, god."
His laughter is so nice. "Nah, don't be embarrassed. 's why I gave you your nickname."
"Don't be embarrassed? That's mortifying, Joel. I thought no one—wait." Had you heard him right? "What d'you mean you gave me my nickname?"
Joel's head tilts, and he's definitely a charmer kind of guy. If you do have a chance, you might be fucked. "Your nickname."
"Miss Sunshine?" He nods. "I thought that was Sarah."
"No, Sarah used it first in front of you," he pulls one of the glasses closer to him. "I said it first."
Well... that made it just as special but in a different way. You pour the wine into both glasses. "Good to know. I was under the impression she was the creative genius in the household—I just. Quick question that I never asked her: Why?"
"'Cause every mornin' before I left for work you're there on that big window," he points at the glass window that's occupies ceiling to floor, the very reason you picked this house, "talking to your plants as if you're the sun itself waking them up. 's cute."
Cute. You hate how he has the ability to make you blush. What is this, fucking high school?
"That makes sense."
Joel wipes his palms on the side of his t-shirt and then looks up at you. "If I go home with the promise of comin' back, will you let me shower?"
Let me. You're thankful your arms are covered because you're unsure of what this man is capable of when he knows the effect he has on somebody.
"I'll let you," you answer.
Joel nods and his smile is so genuine that you wonder why you never tried before.
"'kay," he takes one sip of the wine, hums in approval, and then takes a deep breath. "'m gonna go. I'll be back to interrogate you."
"I'll leave the door open."
"No—Jesus bloody Christ, are you and Sarah mad? Lock the door, Sunshine." You like it so much when he's the one that says it. "I'm serious."
"Alright, jeez," you laugh.
It's less tense than you imagined as he puts his shoes back on and walks out of your door. Joel crosses the street with a little wave in your direction, and all you can think is—what on Earth am I gonna do to him?
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When he's back, Joel smells so good it's intoxicating.
It makes your brain melt.
Minty and fresh. That's what his stuff smells like, and you know the idea of that scent's now painted on the walls of your brain.
He does that stupid little dad pose, widening both arms and lifting them up in a display of 'what do you think' before walking in.
It makes you want to push him against the wall, but you do your best at behaving.
For now.
"Brand new man?" you ask.
He points at his glass of wine, untouched since the moment he left. "Will be in a sec."
You wait for him to take a sip before extending him what you held in your hand before he arrived.
Joel eyed the cigarette and, thank fuck, there was none of the annoying judgment sometimes people carried. He stops his movement to sit on the stool and asks, "You smoke in here, or are we goin' outside?"
"There's a table there. Weather's nice. D'you mind?"
Joel grabs his glass, shaking his head. "Not at all, ma'am. Lead the way."
"Ma'am," you echo him, sounding disgusted. He laughs behind you, "Who am I, Mrs. Adler?"
Still laughing, Joel answers, "Nah. Too talkative for that."
You turn around with your mouth hanging open, trying very little to look offended. "I beg your pardon. We never spoke for longer than, what, five minutes?"
Joel shrugs his shoulders. His smile is as intoxicating as his presence. "I hear things."
"You hear things?" you ask, pushing open the door that leads outside.
"I do," he sips his wine, looking to the small terrace where your little table is. "My daughter's a gossiper, little Sunshine. I think y'should know that."
Little Sunshine. Goddamn this man.
"Should I be scared, here? I haven't even told her anything, but I feel like I should be."
"If you didn't tell her anythin', than why would you be?"
"Because!" you laugh, feeling just a little out of your depth with his smoothness. You expected more closeness from Joel. Less teasing, easy banter. "You're talking like someone who knows a lot, that's all."
"And I do," he says, sounding every bit as serious.
You sit down on one of the chairs — your chair, precisely — and watch as Joel walks around a little, taking in the environment. He adds, "Did ya know," pausing for a dramatic effect, he sips again, "that in all of three months, you became one of my daughters' favorite people?"
He pins you under his gaze.
You cross your legs, and watch happily as his gaze drops to the motion.
"Did I?" if you sip at his pace, you'll be throwing yourself on his lap in an embarrassing amount of time.
Joel nods behind his cup, touching one of the many plants that cover your backyard area from floor, to walls, to ceiling. "You did," he smiles, dropping the fake seriousness. "Are you ready to deal with the six months absence? 'Cause from personal experience," he points both hands at his chest, "you try convincing yourself you won't miss her all that much 'cause, y'know, it's "just" a girl, but—fuck," he spits the last word, smiling widening around the fact. "She's so cool to have around. You'll see. Your phone's bill's about to create life."
It grounds you.
The way Joel speaks of Sarah makes you feel comfortable sitting here, and any doubts you had are sucked by the green life around you and returned as oxygen.
Joel talks about anything, no reservations.
In his absence, you doubted whether this could be any different than most times.
Would Joel be like that—like any of those other guys?
He wasn't.
Joel, as much as you hated to admit it, was an exception.
Maybe these things were fated. Simple chemistry. Similar mindsets. Whatever it was—you had it every once in a blue moon.
Your expectations settings were long ago molded to expect the least, and it takes only half a bottle of wine for you to notice the need to rear it in.
He's so damn easy. Joel goes from one topic to another like he's interested. He answers your questions with full interest, sometimes going on tangent stories, and he's the one who keeps the glasses filled.
Attentive, you take note the second time that happens. Before any of the glasses got empty, he served you both.
He compliments your taste in music and sounds genuine about it.
The weird silences you most dreaded never happen—if he's not answering you, Joel asks things. Interesting things, unlike any other neighbor.
"Was it you who decorated your place inside? 'Cause, there are very specific things in there. And you seem like the type to know what you like."
Joel was very attentive.
He asked, "and is this what you like to do with your free time?" pointing at the books you put away when you both arrived, "Drink wine, read, talk to your plants?"
"I still can't believe you've seen me doing that."
He laughed at that. "It's a pretty big window, Sunshine. Jesus Christ—you don't lock the door, you don't know people can see through your gigantic-ass window—I'm genuinely starin' to get worried here."
"Okay, first of all, I do lock my door."
"Do you?"
"'Course. Most days."
"Oh my—"
"—and! Now that I was reminded of my window's size, I'll consider buying drapes. Long, white ones. That'd be cool."
It was easy.
Talking to Joel—sharing a table with him, a glass of wine—so easy.
He never looked uncomfortable. Even if he moved a lot, Joel looked good—so damn good you lost focus every now and then—, but good with himself.
In his skin.
That was intoxicating.
When he does more than just talk and asks things; it's almost too damn easy. Was time supposed to go this way?
The first bottle end, but it's too soon.
You know it. He knows it—plays with it, in fact. Waves the empty bottle after pouring it for you and him in the air very lightly then places it on the floor.
Offering another one is almost a visceral reaction.
You don't have the same finesse he does, or at least, you think not, but if his smiles and closing proximity are anything to go by, he's enjoying himself as much as you are. "I dance around opening these a lot," you say pointing at the empty bottle. Pulling your legs closer to yourself despite the voice of your mother telling you that's a body language sign of insecurity—fuck insecurity. "Don't wanna be the wine lady on top of the plant one. But they're good. I like it."
"I only drink wine when my brother cooks," he offers.
The glass in your hands makes you feel safe enough to land this conversation where you want it. "Really? He cooks a lot?"
"More than me," Joel confesses with a shrug. "He likes to match the wine to the dish and that type o' stuff."
"I was taught how to be picky, but if I'm being honest—" you like the way Joel leans in closer when you pause it. You smile, "it's all just grapes tastin' really, really good." The sound of his damn laugh. This man's gotta have a flaw, you think. "As long as it's wine, I'm happy."
"I think that about a good beer after a day of work."
"We're all just trying to give ourselves little positive reinforcements for playing nice at doing our jobs, huh?"
Joel pauses at that. Lifts his eyebrows, then bursts out laughing. "Oh, wow—"
"Oh god", while it took you a lot of alcohol to get drunk, being open-mouthed about weird things came with the territory of feeling comfortable.
Joel made you comfortable, even if you were mortified at how amused he was.
When he's done laughing, he looks at you. "That's cute. You're the philosophical type."
"Isn't everybody who enjoys wine?"
"I don't know. I enjoy wine and I'm not one to go that far, I think."
"Hmm. Philosophizing can involve different topics. Lenses."
Joel wolf whistles. "Well, I think I'd need a couple more glasses to unlock that side of me."
"Not a problem," you get up, and resist the urge to wink at him. "I'll be back."
Your reflection in the kitchen mirrors is the confirmation of how fucked exactly you are.
It's more than just the color on your cheeks—it's the glassy screen over your eyes, making it shine like...
Well, very few times.
Fuck, you think.
Maybe that's why your palms are sweating.
He's more than you bargained for—Joel's looks were hard to move on from, but this?
Once in Rome...
Fuck it.
It's not as if either one of you was blinded to what a moonlight late-night conversation leads to.
The air outside could be felt.
When you're going back with the opened bottle, another pin drops in your mind.
He has the whole night free.
You don't break the bottle, but it's a close call.
Joel asks you the second you're back, "I have a depressing confession to make—I was tryin' to keep to it to myself, but honestly, it's all I taught about when you left."
You place the bottle in the middle of the table carefully and sit back down with your eyes on him.
He moved his chair closer again.
"Do share," you urge.
Joel looks around the yard—he seems to do it a lot when he's dipping his toes into personal places and says, "This is the first time in a—uh—I don't even know. A while. That I just... sat with another adult. Drank something nice. Talked about more than just—fucking politics, or whatever." Joel's eyes on you make you feel honored. You know he'd say that's a silly thought if you said it out loud. "It's really nice. And—the depressing part comes in now: I'm only here 'cause of my brother."
You tilted your hair. "You're here because... of Tommy?" you tried connecting those dots, but came up short.
Thankfully, Joel was here. With his smile, and his explanation.
"You see, before Sarah's mom and I decided she could spend some months here instead of just a few weekends, I was already... shutting in. His words, not mine," Joel picks up his glass for a sip, and you hang onto every word he says. "So when she came, he took me out one night. That little bar a few blocks from here—y'know Mr. O'Donovan's place?" when you shake your head, he waves a hand, "I'll take you someday—'s the only place around here that's worth a dime."
"I'll take your word for it." I hate bars. You'd go for him. With him.
"I think I know what beer you'd like," it comes off as a whisper, and you have to hide behind your glass again. "I only remember that talk because he made me promise. He's not one to ask for promises."
"What did he make you promise?"
"He was upset 'cause I kept turnin' him down every time he wanted to do his 'meet my friend and you'll be good friends' match-making shit, so he said, 'you promise that the next time someone invites you do somethin' you actually wanna do, you're not gonna turn 'em down? You'll actually fucking go, without makin' excuses to yourself'. And that sounded fair. So I promised."
You take note of the effort he's making.
The subtle 'this isn't just about what's about to happen'.
'I'll take you someday'.
'Next time someone invites you to do somethin' you actually wanna do'.
So more than just neighbors. You nod at that, smiling at him. "He seems like a good brother," you say. "Siblings can be a pain in the ass."
Joel stops his glass on the way to his lip to shake his head at you, "Oh, no no," he takes the sip first, and says, "one doesn't negate the other. He very much is a pain in my ass, trust me."
You laugh. "Older and younger?"
"Younger," he nods. "I had a lil' bit of peace here and there before he was born."
"Can't imagine you'd have it any other way nowadays."
He agrees with you.
When he doesn't, Joel scrunches his nose as he shakes his head.
He does silly faces. You wonder if he's aware of how unfair it is that he gets to look like that. Tender. Charming.
He proves your theory to be right with only half another bottle.
Put two or more adults plus a certain amount of alcohol in a closed environment, and sex will be on the table.
It makes you blush when you think... it could literally be on the table.
Joel pretends he doesn't see you growing hotter. He keeps his eyes on you as you take off the robe instead of looking at your arms. Listens to what you're saying without losing focus.
Only when you're done and asking him something in response that he looks.
It makes your throat dry when he does.
Joel has an unabashed, almost cocky tilt to his mannerisms.
You thought he'd be quieter than he is—more serious.
It's a welcomed contrast.
When sex is laid on the table, it comes because he brought up the joke you made at the beginning of the night about his lack of interest in your life, and decided to ask you things. Where you grew up. If you were always like this.
"Define 'like this'."
"Smart with the calculating glance, and sweet-talking."
"Is that me?"
"Sure is, Sunshine."
None of the questions that people usually ask.
It makes you bite your lip more than you wished—his manly, tall presence gets under your skin in ways that no previous partner managed to. Tucking your hair behind your ear, avoiding leading the conversation to the exact places you liked, giggling—those weren't things you did.
He pulled them from you.
When he does ask you the 'usual' questions, it lacks the malicious curiosity inflating others whenever they did.
Sex is laid on the table because Joel looks you in the eyes with that easiness in his shoulders and asks, "I'm not as private as you, though—all of my neighbors already know Tommy, and Sarah. You, on the other hand... the mysterious crime and horror novelist, who talks to her plants and moved from so, so far. I might not be the prying type, but I was curious about you long before my gremlin set her little claws on you. How come I never see anyone coming in or out of here? You tellin' me not one friend of yours followed you here to god-forsaken Texas?"
Your glass is almost empty, and you focus on the twirling of the red inside it to avert your mind from the way he's sitting. "The point of moving was getting away from them. All of them, as bad as that sounds," you cover your eyes with your free hand, and Joel's hand touches your forearm.
"Hey—it's fine. Don't feel bad. 'm happy you had the privilege of gettin' away. If you wanted to move away from all of it, I'm sure you had your reasons."
Looking between your fingers, you try appraising his face. "Really?"
"Really," he nods.
"Okay." You sit up straight. "And I do have people over, sometimes. You're just always at work."
"Yeah? You made friends already?"
"A few, yeah."
"Where?" he removes his hand from your forearm but drops it to your chair's armrest. The proximity is doing something to you. "I thought you worked from home."
"I do," you agree. "But I do other stuff. I'm not always here with my plants, Joel," you roll your eyes, smiling amusedly.
Joel laughs, "I wouldn't know. If I could work from home and stay with my tools and wood, I would."
"And I believe you," you nodded.
He bites on his smile before asking. "What other stuff d'you do?"
"I joined a book club," you reply, feeling all levels of boring.
From his look, he disagrees. "You got the patience for that?"
"Sure do," you nod again.
He nods, pouting in awe. "Nice," he says. "Are your book club friends givin' you the right impression of Texans?"
"I'm warming up to them," you smile.
Nodding, he asks, "Should I ask now the questions all my neighbors already know the answer to? 'Cause I am curious. Did you know Mr. Adler tried tellin' me what he 'discovered' about you? He tried looking blasé when he said that, but I'm sure he just wanted to gossip about the pretty girl who moved across from him."
"Ew, Joel," you laugh.
His eyes never leave you—you feel it even when you're not looking at him. He's laughing too. "What? It's true."
When you look back up at him, you wonder—when did you two get this close?
"You can ask," you say. "It's not that exciting, the answer. Actually, it's not exciting at all."
"Hmm, I'll be the judge of that," he sips his wine, and leaves the glass on the table. "You already know my backstory, so kill my curiosity now," he pierces with his eyes for a moment, "how on Earth is there no ring on this finger?" he points to your ring finger, then he leans in closer, and you can smell the wine in his breath; you want to kiss it until it's taste is gone, "and how is it that I never see anyone leaving here early in the mornings?"
Well. "No ring 'cause I didn't want one so far," you reply. To him, you give more honesty than anyone else who's asked. "And I have the luxury of living without it. I know many friends of mine who don't—and actually, that was part of..." don't go there. "Nevermind," you shake your head, pinning yourself to here.
"You just didn't want it?" he echos.
You nod, "Never did," there's no reason to lie to him. He smells so good—why would you lie to him? "Most men bore men, Joel."
"Wow," the smile that widens is a little baffled. A little dirty. "Should I be scared?"
At that, you burst out laughing. "Really?" You have no clocks outside, but the starry sky and the deep silence in the houses next to you are a good enough indicator. "It's been... a couple of hours, at least. We're one bottle and a half," you say, looking at your glasses shining on the table, "deep into conversation... and you wonder if you should be scared?"
Joel's still looking at you when you look back. His arm is around your chair, and your back touches it when you lean back against it. "I'll take that as a no."
"You are very far from boring."
"'m happy you think so," he smiles. He lets his eyes drop to your lips, without a care for the two palms of distance that separate your faces. It's meant to be blatant. Obvious. "Just another question..."
Here it comes, you thought. Why no kids? Why so alone? Do you feel lonely?
"Why me?" he asks.
It's nothing more than a breath.
You could ignore it. Give any answer, and close the gap. Instead, you give him honesty. "Honestly? I was so attracted to you, the second I saw you, that I was willing to even hear somethin' stupid coming out of your mouth if I could just—," do it, do it, do it. Seeing his eyes darken from up close is torture. You can feel the pulse of your heartbeat between your legs. "Now, if I were any smart, I'd be wishing for you to be bad at all the rest, because..."
This was amazing already.
Joel laughs, just a single, breathy laugh, and then does something you would never see it coming.
He pushes his chair back with the weight of his hips and drops to his knees.
The gasp you let out is enough to put the most insufferable smile on his face.
"Don't say that," he feigns hurt, as if he wasn't smiling with his eyes and lips. "It might've been a while, but I don't think I lost my touch just yet."
Joel's hands envelop your knees and slowly pull them apart. You feel like an open wire—aware of every breath your body takes and each minimum reaction to him.
You feel the wet pulse inside your panties when he kisses the skin of your inner thigh, right above your knee.
Joel smiles up at you, blinking his eyes.
Damn him, you think. His hands caress their way up your skin, and you wished you were naked already.
He seems like someone to enjoy the torture—when his hands reach the curve of your ass, they stop there, holding onto your waist.
"Have I?" he asks, kissing the other inner leg. You feel a hint of his tongue in the short kiss.
What could you say to that?
"You really haven't."
Feeling the hot breathing of his laughter on your inner thighs was not in your list for tonight.
"Do I get a kiss, then?"
He would never have to ask you twice.
Your legs wrap around his torso when you lean down to meet him for the kiss. Joel seems to love the position—he smiles at first, gripping you by the neck.
He takes his time to look at you before he dives in. A mental check-in. Maybe just admiring, just as you were from the second he kneeled.
His kiss comes from experience. A lot of fucking experience.
If you were weak in the knees before, you seal the notion that you're out of your depth there and then.
Joel kisses like no one's ever kissed you before—like he wants to explore, discover, conquer.
He licks his way inside of you with the first kiss.
His tongue isn't shy; he makes you adjust to his rhythm, to let go and open up, and when you, you're rewarded with it—he pulls up just an inch, just to whisper, "that's it," and then dives back in.
Joel wraps his arm around your shoulder and neck in a possessive manner. It's why he makes it so easy for you let him guide it—he's holding you, and you moan as you melt into him.
He wants to feel your body.
The more you press yourself against him, the more Joel grants you little sighs of his own pleasure.
He never pushes his hips against you. Never presses you towards him.
It makes you want to scream.
When he pulls away, Joel sighs happily. He presses his right thumb over your swollen bottom lip, and nodding, kneels on his heels again.
"Joel..."
Your face remains close to his, gravitating to where he does. He whispers, "Lift your hips up for me, Sunshine," wrapped around a smile.
You do as he says.
His hand takes off your shorts without your eyes ever leaving you, and when the item is on the floor, Joel releases the robe you foregone earlier tonight from your backrest to slide down where you sit.
To not make a mess, it says.
Your face is burning up, but not as much as the rest of you.
"Is this ok?" he asks.
He waits for your nod of approval before pulling you by your knees. "Good," he's strong enough to get you where he wants in one pull. Your hips are nearing the end of the chair and from this angle, Joel gets to look.
He eyes the underwear as if it's personally offending him.
"I like the color," he says. He traces a finger across the baby blue lace and looks up at you. "Suits ya," he says. That's when he hooks a finger on the fabric, pulling it to the side. "I dreamt about this."
That gets to you.
Joel's fingers are thorough—able. He uses his knuckles to spread the lips apart, uncaring about the whines you let out above him, still holding on to the shame of being the only one exposed.
It lasts until he places two knuckles on each side of your clit, stimulating it with back-and-forth movements.
You were right about the torture.
He enjoys it.
Joel waits for your clit to be hard between his fingers before he puts his mouth to it.
You can only cling onto his hair.
I dreamt about this, too.
"Fuck—I dreamt about this too," you confess.
His moan vibrating against the core of your pussy makes you clench.
Joel's only starting.
He takes his time in finding the rhythm you most feel pleasure on your clit. He never bites, never nibbles, and doesn't go softly, like other men.
He eats.
Joel's mouth is stuck to you—the way he laps and slurps and sucks on your hardened nub only makes your volume go from whines and pleas of his name to moans in very little time.
That's when he dips his tongue inside. When he uses it as muscle and proves to you why the idea of oral is so good for men.
Because it's good.
Joel gives no indicator that he wants to stop at any time, and it turns you into something that blossoms.
At some point between him almost making you cum just by sucking on your clit and fucking his tongue in and out of you, your legs made their way to his shoulders, and his hands have secured themselves groping your ass.
He pulls back for air, once.
His fingers enter you instead, two at once.
"So wet already," he says. You only hear it, until, "look at me," he asks.
As if his thick, long fingers dripping into places inside of you weren't enough, you get to look at him.
His face glistening on your back porch is something that burns behind your eyelids the second you see it. You feel incoherent, needy, and exposed in more than one way.
Joel looks like he could eat you like this.
"Joel—please. Please," you're begging, but for what, you're not sure.
"Cum for me first. I'll give you whatever you want later, just," he pumps his fingers inside of you, keeping a steady and strong pace, and then says, "You look so good like this, Jesus fuckin' Christ."
Profanities.
That's what he says before getting his mouth back on you—his tongue sucking and vibrating against your clit.
It's too much. Too fucking much, and, "Joel, Joel—"
He pulls back just to say it, "That's it, doin' so good, Sunshine—" and that's when you lose it. The coaxing. It's so earnest. Sounds so pleased, dipping in honey as if it's him who's feeling this good.
"'m gonna cum Joel, fuck me, just like that—"
"Like this? Hm? Show me. Cum on my mouth."
All it takes is for him to put it back on you. Joel knows how to push himself inside—knows how to explore the hot and tight confines of your cunt, because he coos a first orgasm out of you with the right pace only.
No strength. No speed. Just sucking, and curling right against your spot.
Your vision whites out.
The time you take to come back to yourself, he keeps playing with your pussy and the mess he made in it, seeming as satisfied with the result as you are. Somewhere in white land.
What a little death.
After that, it's more a mess and clashes of teeth and desires than you knew you were even capable of.
He pulls you in for a kiss, and you pull him inside the house.
The idea is to make it to your room, but you never make it past the living room.
When you press him against a wall to finish taking off his clothes, seeing him only in briefs makes gravity pull you in.
Nothing but black briefs.
You have to drop to your knees.
Joel curses under his breath and tries his best at keeping his posture, but you're with a mind entirely clouded by raw need.
To him, you want to do only your best.
You're addicted to the way he mutters, "atta girl," every time you discover something that brings him pleasure. It sounds so fucking dirty.
"That's it. Atta fuckin' girl, god."
With him, you use tricks your friends once told you that are buried in the back of your mind. You hold the part of his cock your mouth can't cover and move it in sync with your lips. You make it wet, make sloppy, make it whatever he leads it to be.
Joel hisses and moans louder when you find the special places hidden—the sensitive skin between his balls that leads up, you lick it from start to finish and are rewarded with a full-body shudder.
He shows you what strong body means.
"Where's your room?" he pulls you by the arms, and you somehow end up jumping on him. Exactly what you wanted.
"I'm not makin' that far," you tell him with a grin.
He has his thumb on your lips again—he seems to like your mouth.
"Didn't think you'd want my bare ass on your couch."
"That is exactly where I want your bare ass right now," you tell him.
He's good at following requests, just as he is at giving them.
Joel sits with you already straddling his lap, and bless his gentleman's heart, he says, "I left my pants outside—wait," he curses under his breath with your hips circling his shaft. Letting it slide between your pussy lips. "Fuckin' hell."
"Fuckin' hell indeed," you sigh. "Wait here."
You run outside for it, only because you're not on the pill. Maybe you'll start taking it. Maybe you shouldn't think that far.
Joel's waiting for you alright—he has his hand at the base of his cock, sitting on your couch like a modern-day Adonis.
A sluttier Adonis. Sexier, too.
"Stop starin' and c'mere," he demands;
And who are you to say no to that?
Joel does you the favor of putting it on as you make yourself comfortable on his lap again, taking all of your out of the way. He looks like he wants to eat you alive piece by piece, and you love it.
"Lemme know if you want me to take over," he tells you.
"Yes, sir," you whisper in a taunting manner.
Joel rests his forehead against yours when you line himself up with you, and it's a reward of your stupid, gigantic-ass window letting in the light from outside that allows you to see the pleasure on his face as you sink around him, burying him to the hilt.
His digits press so hard on your sides they'll brise.
You'll be bruised tomorrow morning.
Fingerprints on your hips, beard burns on your inner legs, palm shapes across your ass.
When you start moving, none of you say a word about how it feels.
It's criminal.
Only curses and your names are allowed in the thin space separating your wet bodies.
The thin layer of sweat makes you two glide on each other, and the drag of him inside of you is almost too good for words.
You're scared of the ones that'd make their way out, anyway.
So you let out what you can. You call for him, and he calls back. Joel slaps your ass, both sides of it, and urges you on to take him as you want it.
"Fuckin' christ, I'm never gonna—fuck—never gonna sleep again."
There it is. Being pussy-drunk makes him loose-lipped.
Your own are aching with how hard you bite on them.
Joel lets the reigns remain on your hands as you stay on top. He lets you ride him painfully slow, and faster, just because it feels good. He lets you climb all the way up only to slam back down, praising you through the fog in your brain.
"Does it feel good, Sunshine? Mm? My cock feels that good for you?"
You're sure it'll all come back to haunt you once your brain can be coherent.
He takes charge when you start begging him, and for what, you're unsure of. It's a mixture of please and his name, which Joel takes as his permission slip.
He flips you onto your back, hooks one of your legs on the middle of his back, and fucks you both into another orgasm.
It should be concerning the way he does it—like he's familiar with your body and your cues. He just follows your pace and moans until you're clawing at his back, and when his name comes out over and over again, he coaxes it again. Coos at you, holding your face in one hand. "You're gonna cum for me, aren't ya? Do it. I'll cum for you when I feel you shakin' around my cock, Sunshine. Cum for me."
It comes so hard you almost faint; blackout.
Joel takes care of you afterward.
Of course he does.
Even with the weakest legs and the minimum sense of reality around you, he manages. Joel leads you upstairs, tells you he's collected your clothes, and even lays down when you ask him.
"Just for a while," you ask.
He lays in front of you in bed, and pulls your arms around him. "I'm puttin' an alarm."
Little spoon. "You gotta be back here in the morning anyway."
"I know," he kisses your wrist. "Can't wait."
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onlyhuis · 12 days
Text
on the nose
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member — minghao x f reader  genre — smut, fluffy ending word count — 6.2k synopsis — you're too shy to be on the nose about what you want. luckily, minghao's got you figured out... he even likes the fluffy tail, too. warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, established relationship, nicknames (bunny, baby, love, honey, good girl, etc), unprotected sex, dom/sub dynamics, pet play, lingerie (bunny costume), teasing, begging, anal plug, oral (f receiving), not quite ass eating but close to it, breeding kink, creampie, filming during sex, praise, little bit of manhandling, overstimulation, spanking, hair pulling, biting, marking, squirting, generally rough and messy sex, and then it does a total 180 and it becomes really soft and gentle i'm sorry i can't help it this happens every time it's just who i am, pls lmk if i missed any there's a lot nksdjfsfh notes — requested by anon for my 🐈 1k event — thanks so much to @onlymingyus and @highvern for helping me brainstorm <3 this was a challenge to write tbh but i'm glad i decided to finish it. if you enjoyed and want to see more like this please lmk how you liked it with an ask or a reblog! i always want to try new different things and feedback on this would be super appreciated :)) hope you enjoy this my slutty little bunnies mwah xoxo
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you've been waiting for this day for weeks.
“hi baby,” minghao says warmly as you walk inside the house and slip your shoes off, setting your bag on the chair by the door. he wraps his arm around you to pull you in for a kiss before he turns his attention back to the boiling soup on the stove. “there was a package for you when i got home.” he nods his head towards the living room. “it’s on the table.”
“ooh, it’s my new hat!” you squeal and race across the room. “it's finally here!” you tear into the plastic like a wild animal, taking it out of the package and holding it up to show him.
it’s a knitted white beanie with white floppy ears hanging down from the sides of the hat. you pull it on over your hair, repositioning it so that the long fabric dangles at your shoulders. “what do you think?”
“you look so cute, baby. i love it.” he grins and moves closer to kiss you again. “though you know i’ll love anything you wear.”
you scrunch your nose at his reaction, but minghao must mistake the disappointment on your face for joy, because he leans down to kiss the tip of your nose before letting go of you and moving back towards the stove. “dinner will be ready in a bit, love. i’ll let you know when it’s on the table.”
you take off the beanie with a soft sigh and fold it up as you walk to your bedroom, not wanting to get it dirty before you’ve even had a chance to wear it anywhere. it's unreasonable to think he'd get it immediately, you know that, but you can't help but wish he'd have been just a little bit more excited at the sight of your bunny ears.
the soup is already done and minghao is waiting patiently once you come back out of your room changed into your pajamas, and by the time he’s got you pinned beneath him in bed later that night drawing pretty little moans from your lips, your bunny fantasies are the furthest thing from your mind. laying on your side as you listen to his gentle snores, you sigh and close your eyes, leaving it be. for now.
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you wait a couple days before you try again.
“have you thought about what you’re gonna be for halloween?”
minghao looks up from his laptop sitting next to you in bed. “not really,” he chuckles. “it’s only april. why, did you have something in mind?”
you purse your lips, trying to seem casual. “i was thinking of being a playboy bunny. don’t you think that’d be cute?”
“mm… cute isn’t the first word that comes to mind,” he says, the corner of his lip quirking up into a smile. something flashes across his eyes and you hold your breath, hoping for the reaction you want this time. “we can look for costumes closer to october, yeah?”
you start to frown at his answer but quickly catch yourself, hiding your dismay with a smile. “good idea. hey, i’m gonna take a quick shower before bed, m’kay?”
he nods, and you lean over to give him a soft kiss on the cheek before standing up.
but this time he doesn’t miss the way your expression falls, his brows furrowed as you walk out of the room and close the bathroom door with a quiet click. he knows there’s something you want, something you’re not happy with, but sometimes it’s so hard to get you to tell him what’s on your mind.
he closes his laptop and sets it aside on the bedside table, crossing his arms over his chest in thought as he hears the shower water start to run. if all you’re willing to do for now is drop hints, then he’s just gonna have to start paying better attention until you feel like opening up. he’s not exactly a mind reader, but he’s figured you out before and he’ll do it again.
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the next time it comes up, you don't even mean for it to happen.
you're walking through the mall, hand in hand as you stroll past boutiques and shops. something in one of the windows catches your eyes, and you tug on minghao's hand to go inside. he follows your gaze to the display of frilly white dresses, the wire rack wrapped with pastel garlands for their spring sale.
a sales lady with a cheap rabbit ear headband walks over and greets you with a smile, quickly launching into a memorized script about new items and clearance sales. you subconsciously squeeze minghao's hand and he pauses to watch the way you look at the woman as she talks, trying to see what you're looking at.
and then he notices something, and things start to click into place. you say something to the woman that he doesn't hear before she nods and walks away, and he sees your gaze lingering on the little cottontail tied to the belt loop of her jeans, bouncing with each step.
“you like these?” he asks curiously, running his hand over one of the dresses you'd been eyeing earlier.
“hm?” you ask absently and whip your head back around, your attention clearly drawn elsewhere. “oh, yeah. they're cute.”
well, he may not be a mind reader, but he has a hunch that the reason you wanted to come in this store wasn't to look at the clothes.
he has the chance to put his theory to the test later that night when you're straddling his lap, hands gripping your ass as he pulls you up and down along his cock.
he decides to try it, under the guise of dirty talk in the heat of the moment, and he's so casual about it you'd never suspect a thing. it already doesn't take much to get you fucked out in his arms, so when he slips it in between curses and moans you'd never be able to guess that he's been thinking about this all afternoon.
he groans as you grind down against him, waiting for the perfect opportunity. “bouncing on me so good, like a little bunny,” he says, punctuating his words with a sharp thrust that makes you fall forward onto his chest.
like a magic word you instantly clench around him, whimpering loudly as your hips stutter and fall out of rhythm with him. he sees your eyes squeeze shut as you struggle to keep going, blatantly ignoring his words and pretending they don't affect you like he knows they do.
he lets himself grin at your reaction and thrusts up into you again, making you whine again as the tip of his cock presses into the spot that has you falling apart for him.
“hao! fuck, fuck, i'm—” you barely have time to moan out a warning before you're cumming, your body trembling against him from the strength of it as you gasp for air.
when you finally come back down he does everything he usually does, nothing out of the ordinary. he kisses your forehead and cleans you up and tucks you into bed beside him. he files this new little piece of information away for later and doesn't bring it up again.
for a while you start to think it was probably just an accident, a slip of the tongue when he wasn't thinking. he says a lot of things when he's inside you; he doesn't always have to mean them. but you should know better by now not to underestimate your boyfriend when he's got an idea in his head.
days go by and both of you pretend like it never happened; you because you're embarrassed at how much it affects you, and minghao because he has bigger plans up his sleeve.
everything seems perfectly normal until one evening when you come home from work and he's waiting for you at the door, wrapping you in a hug as soon as you step inside.
"hey, baby,” he smiles, his hands resting on your waist. “got a present for you."
your cheeks warm. "but it's not my birthday or anything?" it's not uncommon for him to spoil you with gifts, but he never makes a show of it. he just hands you things like you've owned them all your life, little surprises popping up without explanation like the necklace with your birthstone on it or the box of chocolates he'd known you were craving.
"it doesn't need to be. just something special i want you to have." he runs his hand over your forehead, tucking a strand of hair gently behind your ear. "it's in the bedroom, if you wanna go take a look.”
you give him a suspicious look and pull away, slipping your shoes off and leaving him by himself. he doesn't follow you down the hall, just standing in place and folding his arms with a satisfied grin once he hears squeals coming from the bedroom.
the house goes silent for a moment, and then he sees you poke your head out into the hall. “minghao?”
“yes, baby?” he grins teasingly as he leaves the living room, meeting you in the bedroom where he finds you standing next to the bed. you raise an eyebrow at him and point at the pretty white lingerie set he'd laid out for you. 
the thin lace stands out laying atop the dark bedsheets, accompanied by a pair of fluffy white wrist cuffs and a headband with soft floppy ears similar to the one worn by the lady at the store the other day but clearly much higher quality; maybe even custom or handmade. the finishing touch is a thin, white leather collar with a bow, and he can't help but smile as he surveys his layout.
“what is this?” you draw his attention away from the setup, and though your tone sounds accusing he can tell how secretly thrilled you are despite the way you try to downplay it. 
“i told you,” he smirks. “a present.”
now it's your turn to cross your arms at him. “and why is it here?”
“because i thought you'd like it,” he says in a low voice, moving closer to you. “don't you wanna be my little bunny?”
you yelp in surprise but then sigh, finally giving in. “how'd you figure it out?”
“you're easier to read than you think, my love,” he chuckles. “i know you too well.”
“you don't… hate it?” you ask shyly, lifting your eyes to meet his gaze.
he wraps his arms around you again. “of course not. you know you could've just asked me, right?”
you scrunch your nose and pout. “i was nervous you wouldn't want to. or you'd think it's stupid.”
“you know i'd do anything you want, love. it's not stupid to me.” he leans over to press a quick kiss to your lips. “now, will you get changed for me? i can't wait to see my cute little honey bunny all dressed up.”
with a reluctant but excited squeal you push him out of the bedroom, closing the door behind him so that the reveal will be a surprise. minghao grins at the way you try to hide your enthusiasm, leaning against the doorway as he waits patiently.
finally you open the door just a crack and poke your head out, hiding your body behind it nervously. “ready?” you ask.
he nods, and with a deep breath you pull the door open all the way. you give him a little spin, the ears flopping against your hair as you show off the outfit. he smiles proudly as he joins you in the room, his fingers falling to your waist and backing you up against the bed.
“you look adorable, baby. just like i imagined,” he says in a husky voice, and you bite your lip shyly. “do you like it?”
you smile, and it's the prettiest thing he's ever seen. he'd buy you a million outfits and lingerie sets if it means he gets to see you like this every day. “i love it, hao. it's perfect.”
he sits down next to you at the edge of the bed and lifts his hand to pet your head, smoothing down your hair between the ears. you shiver in excitement, and it only makes him more eager to get started, his pants growing tighter every minute.
“i have one more present for you, mkay?” he leans away from the bed and pulls out an object from the dresser drawer. your breath catches in your throat when you realize what it is, a shiny silver plug with a round little white tail at the end that makes your heart race. “can’t be a bunny without a tail.”
you bite your lip and look at him, and he puts his hand on your thigh when you don't respond verbally. “is that okay?” he says gently, but your quick nod reassures him.
he stands up from the bed and quickly strips off his clothes, and you watch with lustful eyes as his cock slaps against his stomach, almost drooling at the sight. once he's ready you let him flip you over, kneeling down on your hands and knees with your ass readily pushed up in the air. he slips a finger under the seat of your panties, pulling them carefully to the side as he reaches over to grab the bottle of lube from the nightstand beside the bed.
you shiver as he pours the cool liquid over your ass before rubbing the toy against you to coat it. once he's satisfied with it he starts to drag the metal upwards, and you jump involuntarily as he presses the end of the plug against your hole. “mm— it’s cold,” you whine as he teases you with it once more before pulling it away.
“but it won’t be for long.” he chuckles at your reaction and rubs his free hand across your lower back soothingly, and you lean your hips into his touch. with a grin he bends down and presses his lips gently against your ass cheek, and you moan when his teeth graze your skin. “just relax for me, baby, that’s it…”
he begins easing the toy past your entrance, just a little bit at a time until it's fully enveloped inside you. you've played with plugs before, but somehow the stretch is like nothing you've ever felt. knowing that this time you've got a cute little bunny tail attached sends a new wave of desire throughout your body.
with one finger he carefully pulls your panties back into place to cover you up, admiring the fluffy tail that protrudes from your hole. it really does complete the outfit, and he smiles at his own thoughtfulness, proud of his handiwork.
you wiggle your hips to test it out, adjusting to the feeling of its weight stuffed inside of you. minghao's hand comes down hard on your ass and you yelp, bucking away from him in surprise. immediately you feel his hand gently touch your stinging cheek, rubbing small circles to massage the pain away. "fuck— sorry. don't know what came over me." he says, voice gravelly. "you just… you look so fucking good right now, baby. you make such a cute bunny."
your face flushes as the initial shock fades, and you push your hips back towards him encouragingly. "it's okay. you can do it again, if—if you want."
he grips your waist and pulls you against him, and you whine as you feel his hard length grinding into your ass. "if i'd known you'd like that, then i would have bought the matching paddle with the ears and the tail too," he groans. "this is why you gotta speak up, baby. gotta tell me what you want so i can give it to you."
you bite your lip and bury your face into the pillow, ears burning in embarrassment, but you quickly lift your head again when you feel his hand leave another sharp smack on your ass. "mm, mm, don't hide from me now, love." he tsks in disappointment, his voice laced with fake sympathy. "you wanna be an obedient little bunny for me, don't you? well-behaved bunnies get rewarded." 
you start to answer, but he runs his cock against your clothed pussy and your head falls back down into the pillow instinctively, letting out a muffled string of moans. his tip teases you, pushing the lace into your wetness and back out again. "what was that, baby? i couldn't hear you."
you scrunch your nose and raise your voice, though it still only comes out as powerful as a squeak. "i said, i'll be good!"
he grins and squeezes your ass with both hands before he pulls your panties off all the way, tugging them down your legs until the thin fabric bunches up at your knees. he drags his cock over your dripping entrance again as you clench around nothing.
“hao,” you whine softly. you tilt your hips backwards to try and push him inside, but he leans back out of your reach. 
“be patient.” he runs his hands along the curve of your ass, bending down to come face to face with your aching cunt. “think i’ll eat this pretty pussy first instead. is that what you want, hm? give me a nice view of your cute little bunny tail while i make you cum all over my tongue?”
you whimper in reply, hiding your face in embarrassment as you lay on your stomach with your ass pushed into the air, proudly displaying your glistening arousal.
with his hands on either side of your hips he pulls you towards his waiting mouth. you gasp into a moan when his lips latch onto your clit, his tongue flicking at the sensitive spot as his nose prods against your entrance.
he presses his tongue flat against you, licking upwards before pulling away. it was happening so fast, too fast, and you wanted more. you needed more. but you should’ve known better than to think he would give you what you want that easily.
“feels good?” he hums, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand.
“please, hao,” you moan. “need you. please, i’ll be good. just don’t stop.”
he scoffs lightly, his face next to your cunt but still too far away for your liking. “and why should i do that? are you gonna behave next time and tell me when you want something?”
“mhm,” you nod weakly. “i will. promise. please, minghao—”
“that’s my good girl. now just let me take care of you, hm?” he presses his lips against your ass in a kiss and you whimper when he begins sucking, hard enough that you know it’ll leave a bruise later. once he’s satisfied he sits back up to his knees, reaching over to pat your head between the ears of your headband. “don’t you worry your fuzzy little head about a thing.”
you let out another moan at his words, relishing in the way he talks about you. it gets you going more than you could’ve ever imagined, and you love him for the way he’s embraced this so wholeheartedly, falling into the role so easily that you’re cursing yourself for ever trying to hide.
he slides back down behind you, using his thumbs to spread your folds apart to give him easier access as he pushes his tongue into you. you can feel yourself growing wetter every second that passes, coating his lips with your slick as he eats you out like a starving man.
he directs his attention away from your clit, tracing his tongue up until it reaches the underside of your tail and the tip of the plug poking out. just like he’d predicted the metal is warm now, heated by the warmth radiating from your holes.
he smooths his hands over your cheeks, kneading them with his slender fingers and pushing you back further into his face. his tongue darts out to lick around the edges of the toy in your ass, and you can’t help but squirm in his grasp as his mouth wanders between your legs, briefly moving back down to suck at your clit before licking upwards again.
your thighs tremble, feeling so much stimulation in ways you'd never knew possible. he traces his tongue over your pussy, dipping into your entrance before he sits back on his knees. 
“you think you deserve to cum now?” he says, and even though you're facedown in the mattress you can still hear the teasing lilt in his voice. “has my little honey bunny earned it, do you think you've been a good girl?”
you're so fucked out already you can barely speak, but you know he wants you to beg him before he'll actually do anything. so you collect yourself and twist your head to look over your shoulder, bunny ears flopping against your back and the most pleading expression you can muster. “mhm… please? been such a good bunny for you.” you prove your point by wiggling your hips, shaking the little tail plug that sticks out of your ass back and forth.
he groans, hands squeezing your waist tighter. he can tell how much you wanted this, how much you're enjoying this, and who is he to deny you any longer when you've been so well behaved? “mm, alright.” he leans down over your back to kiss your shoulder, brushing your hair and your floppy ears out of the way. “gonna let you cum on my cock now, is that what my baby bunny wants?”
you nod eagerly and let out a yip as he finally sinks into you. you swear you've never felt this good in your life as he starts to fill you up, your walls stretching to accommodate his length.
“so fucking tight,” he groans through gritted teeth when he finally bottoms out, his cock buried in your heat. “clenching so hard, i can barely move.”
“minghao—” you plead out his name, desperately trying to fuck yourself on his cock but his grip on your hips is too strong to let you have even a little bit of control.
he stays still for a minute to give you time to adjust, but that doesn't stop him from playing with your tail and tracing his fingers teasingly along your lower back, relishing in the way it makes you shiver and moan his name louder.
finally when neither you nor him can take it anymore, he starts to slide out of you, groaning at the way his shaft is already coated in your slick. he's not sure you've ever been this wet for him before— and you haven't even cum yet.
it doesn't take long for him to build up his pace, propelled by the sight of your cute little tail bouncing with each deep stroke. he spreads your cheeks apart to watch the spot where his length disappears inside you and groans, an idea hitting him as he digs his fingertips into your hips. “fuck, baby— want me to video this? you look so fucking good taking my cock, wanna let you see yourself.”
your walls clench around him faster than your lips can whimper out a “yes”. god, the thought that later you'll get to watch yourself, kneeling on the bed in your pretty lingerie getting fucked like the slutty little bunny you've always wanted to be? it's your biggest dream come true.
he gradually slows down his pace so he can reach over and grab his phone off the nightstand, fingers fumbling with the buttons to start the recording. he shifts his phone into one hand and uses his other to push down on your lower back, forcing you to arch up more for him. 
his long fingers wrap around your side as he starts to thrust into you again, pulling you backwards to meet his cock with each stroke as he builds back up to a brutal pace. he holds the camera up by his chin to make sure he captures a full view of the scene, your pretty ass pushed into the air as a constant stream of whimpers and whines escapes you.
“look at my pretty bunny,” he pants out, squeezing your hip even harder as he fucks into you, knowing everything he says will be immortalized for your pleasure when you watch this together later. “look at you. so good for me, aren’t you?”
you moan out something unintelligible that sounds like a yes, and he rewards you by fucking you harder. he grins and moves his phone closer to your ass to get a better view of your pussy, close enough to see the glint of metal poking out and the way your muscles contract around both it and him with every thrust.
his eyes rake over your body, occasionally glancing at his phone screen to check the video. after a minute he stops the video and tosses his phone aside, quickly moving both hands back to grip your hips so he has more leverage to plunge into you more deeply. your arms give out from the force and you fall forward against the bed, whimpers muffled by the sheets that you grip so tightly to stay grounded to.
one of his hands suddenly leaves your hips and you feel his fingers tangle in your hair, gasping as he jerks your head up again.
“c’mon, baby,” he says, winding his hand around your hair until it tugs your scalp. it burns but it feels so good, sending a shiver down your spine as he pulls on you. “you’ve been so good for me, don’t ruin it now. you can take it. isn’t that right, bunny?”
“fuck,” you whimper as you strain your neck backwards, your tits pushed against the lacy front of your lingerie as you arch your back. “i can—i can take it. please… please.”
his other hand slides up your stomach, pulling you to sit upright with your back against his chest. if it weren’t for minghao’s grip on you, you doubt you’d have even been able to hold your head up on your own, let alone the rest of your body; his forearm wraps around your chest, holding you flush against his body. you swear he’s never fucked you this hard before in your life, slamming his hips into you so hard you already know you’ll be feeling this for days afterwards, his pace never tiring.
minghao is good at giving you what you want, but you’ve always been able to retain at least a little bit of control even in your most fucked out state. but tonight your head is reeling, mouth hanging open with not a single coherent thought running through your mind. maybe it’s the thrill of being “caught”, of him finally figuring out your secret fantasy and letting you play into it.
your first orgasm catches you off guard, overtaking you with no warning. you double over in minghao’s arms as you writhe against him, clenching so hard that even he can’t keep up the pace. his hips stutter as he struggles to continue thrusting, barely managing to even stay inside of you as your muscles contract and try to force his cock out from your pulsing walls.
“go on, baby, let go for me,” he breathes in a low voice against your ear, holding you tighter to keep you in place. “such a good bunny, cumming all over my cock.”
“cu—cumming!” you manage, and you squeeze your eyes shut as another wave slams into you.
he curses under his breath as he snakes his hand down the front of your body to toy with your clit. “fuck— that’s it, baby. let me have it, give me more. such a good girl.”
you lean your head back against his shoulder with another broken moan, all the tension suddenly leaving your body in a rush. the bed is soaked, his thighs are soaked, your pussy is soaked, but you can't stop. his fingers don't stop either, rubbing fast circles on your clit as you squirt.
after what seems like an eternity of cumming you claw at his fingers on your clit, weakly trying to pull his hand away. “h-hao,” you moan, your voice cracking. “wait. stop—”
his grip on your body loosens and he moves his hand before pulling out of you slowly, his cock still hard and aching and his heart pounding with adrenaline. immediately his tone is softer, keeping his voice quiet beside your ear despite his heavy breathing. “what is it, love, what do you need? can you tell me?”
you lean your head back to rest against his shoulder, your body shaking as you try to catch your breath. it’s hard. you can barely think straight from so much stimulation all at once, your head still cloudy from such intense orgasms back to back, and it takes a long few seconds before you can string together your thoughts. “just… need to slow down.” you find his hand on your thigh and squeeze his fingers with all the strength you can muster. “but don’t wanna stop.”
he exhales and turns his head to place a gentle kiss on your cheek. “okay, sweetheart. just let me know. i’m here.”
he knows he was getting a little carried away, but he wasn’t expecting this to get him so riled up. even after he’d figured you out and put his plan into motion he hadn’t once thought about how he felt, so focused on making sure you’d be happy with him.
he’d spent hours online looking for the perfect outfit for you, pretty lingerie that would be comfortable yet still make you feel as beautiful and sexy as you are to him. if only he hadn’t wanted it to be a surprise, because he kind of wishes you’d been able to see the grin on his face when he’d picked out the cutest little tail and ears to match.
he never considered how much he’d enjoy seeing you in the outfit, maybe even more than you, the lace hugging your body as you whimper and whine so cutely for him. if anything, he knows he's definitely going to get his money's worth out of your pretty costume set, because he's already planning out in his mind the next time you'll get to do this together.
you hum his name softly and it brings him out of his head, looking down at your hazy expression. this is still sort of new to him, but he’ll figure out how to handle it. he’s good at that.
“do you wanna lay down?” he asks, fingers tracing up and down your sides and gently toying with the fabric of your bra as he holds you against his body.
you hum in agreement and turn over in his arms, letting him slowly guide you onto your back as he hovers on his hands and knees above you.
you tug at your ears headband and toss it away, and instinctively his hands begin smoothing over your hair to carefully massage your scalp. “uncomfy?” he asks as your eyes flutter shut, a sweet smile on your face at his soothing touch.
“after a while, yeah,” you say softly, leaning your head into his fingertips. you open your eyes slowly, finding his face just inches above yours. “i’m still your bunny?” you ask a little shyly, watching his gaze.
he smiles and leans up to kiss your nose, a habit of his that now means so much more. “mhm. cutest bunny i’ve ever met. and she’s all mine.”
you can feel his throbbing cock resting atop your stomach, and you sigh out his name, reaching up to pull him down to meet your lips. “minghao…” you lift your hips a little, whimpering quietly in response when he groans from the pressure.
“ready to go again?” he breathes, and at your nod he positions his cock back at your entrance, pushing in slowly. the stretch is easy this time and it doesn’t take long before he bottoms out again, bending over you to leave kisses all over your face as you readjust to him. 
you wrap your legs around his waist and pull him closer, whining softly as you squeeze his bicep to try to get him to move. even just having him completely still inside of you feels incredible, but you're eager for more, almost insatiable for him. you don't want this to end just yet.
“god—” he chokes out, thrusting once into you so deep that it makes your head spin. “i'm gonna cum if you keep doing that. not gonna last much longer.”
maybe he’s delirious from so much in one night, but minghao swears you clench harder when he says that. you shake your head, trying to pull him even closer. “don’t care. just want you to fill me up, please?”
he lets out another groan, long and low as he pushes his hips in and out in a slow but steady rhythm. “oh, is that what you want? you want me to breed you? pretty bunny wants to be full of my cum?”
between his dirty talk and the feeling of his cock pulsing inside you, your mind goes blank, and all you can manage is a squeak and a nod and a prayer that he’ll figure it out, how badly you want him to do exactly that. despite everything he’s already given you tonight, you’re absolutely desperate for it, and if you could recall words and sentences right now you would’ve started begging him like your life depended on it.
luckily for you he knows you just as well as he says he does, because he adjusts his hips and thrusts deeper into you, his cock angled upwards to hit you just right with every stroke as filthy words spill from his lips.
“gonna fuck you so full,” he huffs, and you stare wide eyed at the sweat dripping down his cheekbones as he pounds you into the mattress. “taking it so well, gonna breed you like my bunny deserves, stuff you so full. my pretty little bunny, always so desperate for me…”
he doesn't stop, his words beginning to ramble as he focuses all his energy on thinking about your pretty eyes and the sweet, fucked out look on your face that he knows you always get when he cums inside of you because he knows how much you love it.
“please… please,” you whimper, your fingers gripping onto his shoulders so tight, and you know he's right at the edge. each stroke fills you completely, and the pressure from both his cock and the plug still inside you makes you dizzy with pleasure.
minghao buries his face in your collarbone, biting down to muffle his groans as he cums. your own mouth falls open in a gasp as you feel his cock jerk against your walls, pulsing with each thick rope of cum he releases inside. his breath catches in his throat and forces his cock deeper, his pelvis firmly pressed against yours as far in as he can possibly go. 
with shaky hands and even shakier breaths, you wrap your arms around him and hold his head against your chest, your heart still racing as you come down together. he doesn't try to pull out yet, laying down on top of you and letting his weight cover you. you whimper softly as you feel his cum seeping out of you, running down the backs of your thighs. 
after a minute he sighs, looking up at you to make sure you're still okay. “was that alright?” he asks, but your lazy grin tells him all he needs to know.
“love, hey.” he tilts your chin to make you look at him, brushing his thumb against your cheek to make sure you're paying attention. “promise me one thing. next time, just tell me if there's something you wanna try. okay?” he says. his tone is still quiet and gentle, but you can tell he's serious. 
as fun as it is to play this game, he'd much rather you just come to him and talk about it, even if you think it's silly or stupid. he knows it's hard to talk about things you want, but he feels comfortable enough to tell you anything and he hopes one day you'll feel the same, without him having to pry.
“mhm,” you hum sincerely, smiling in contentment at the soft feeling of his fingers on your skin. “i will.”
despite your mumbled voice he can tell you're being genuine with him, and he rewards you with a gentle kiss.
you giggle and run your fingers through his hair, basking in the warm, fuzzy feeling that radiates both inside and out. “so… next time you're gonna wear the outfit, right?”
he laughs and kisses you again, happy that you seem so satisfied after everything. “well, that depends on whether or not you've been a good bunny.”
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i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, consider reblogging or leaving a comment or an ask :) it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! thanks for reading!!
taglist will be in the comments under this fic since tumblr is having problems with mentions, i can't add them as i usually do. if you'd like to join and be notified when i post a new fic, you can fill out this short form here! :)
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suiana · 6 days
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(yandere! t-rex hybrid x gn! worker reader) (wrote this because i saw this one video where it said t-rexes actually had good eyesight n stuff...) (erm brief violent and murder description)
you thought he couldn't see you.
that's what you were told. they told you that he had poor eyesight, that you wouldn't have to worry about him seeing you.
you saw that he had a mask on. the guards probably put it on to block his nose, so obviously it wasn't that he smelt you. tracks? you and your friend were careful to not leave any obvious ones. noise? surely you two weren't that noisy...
so how on earth did he find you two?!
"haha... oh, your face is so cute."
the hybrid snorts, wiping away the blood on his cheek as he trudges towards you. you take a step back, trying to put distance between you and the volatile hybrid. with shaky breaths, you nervously recall the previous events that had happened for things to have led to this.
you and your friend were tasked to enter the t-rex hyrid's enclosure after hours to look for something that a scientist had previously left inside. a chemical of sorts, one that made the hybrids more aroused and violent.
the guards and higher ups all said that they had tranqualized him and that he wouldn't be awake. they even said that if by any chance he had woken up he would be in poor condition and you two would be able to escape easily.
that was far from the truth.
the second you entered his enclosure, your friend had informed you that he could hear something moving. that should've been your cue to leave but... you were naive and wanted to finish your task. you should've known that there was something going on when the scientists let you two in without any form of protection.
because unfortunately, a few minutes after that, you watched in horror as the hybrid ripped your friend to pieces, mercilessly taking your friend away from you. his screams ring in your ear, forever traumatizing you as his mauled body now lay just a few feet away from you and the hybrid.
which is what brings us to your current predicament.
"you... how did you find us?! they said you were tranqualized and-"
you nervously babble, pointing a shaky finger at the bloodied hybrid who smiles sinisterly at you. you watch as he shrugs, taking long strides as he licks the blood of your friend off his fingers.
"what? never expected me to find you huh?"
he snickers, eyes looking down at you as though you were some sort of ant. you could only let out a soft whimper as you try to back up, only to trip on a rock as the hybrid laughs cruelly.
"oh you really are so cute! look at you! all scared and shaking... do you think i'll kill you?"
the hybrid mocks, smiling at you as his sharp teeth make you dread what he may do to you. shit, those teeth look sharper than knives! it'll be like going through a meat grinder!
"p-please! i only wanted to retrive something that the higher ups told me to do! i thought you had bad eyesight and-"
"me? bad eyesight?"
the hybrid interrupts, pausing in his steps as he raises an eyebrow at you.
"my dear, my eyes are far from being bad. in fact, i think they may be better than yours."
he laughs at you, shaking his head as you feel helplessness fill your mind. what? his eyesight was... good? did the higher ups lie to you?
"that's how i found you two obviously. this damn... muzzle blocks my senses."
he grumbles, poking the mask that restricted his sense of smell. you watch in horror as he suddenly pins you to the ground, a crazed look in his eyes as you say your final prayers. shit... you were definitely going to die here, weren't you?
"i'm so glad those people kept their promise... wanted you for so long."
he mutters, his tail wrapping around your leg as you freeze in place. ah... so this really was a set-up from the very beginning.
"a-are you going to eat me?"
you stammer, looking up at him as tears prick your eyes. shit, so your employers really were sending you and your friend to your deaths, huh? did they run out of food? and promise? was this damned t-rex thirsting over you and your friend? did the higher ups promise to give you as meat if he did something?
you whimper softly, looking at the t-rex as your body shakes fearfully. meanwhile, the hybrid remained quiet for a second, processing your words before deadpanning at you.
"eat you? ah... so they didn't tell you, huh?"
he mumbles, pursing his lips together before snickering again. little did you know that your fate would've been worse than just being offered to the hybrid as a piece of meat.
"why would i eat my future mate?"
"huh?"
oh. so they offered more than just your body to him.
"oh... so you're not going to eat me?"
"well i will eat you, just in a... different way. i'll eat your friend for real though."
you maintain eye contact with him, fear leaving your body momentarily. you blink slowly, staring at him with an exasperated expression before he breaks the silence with his words.
"what? why are you looking at me like that?"
oh wow, maybe because he just admitted to wanting to eat you? sexually? ugh... you can't tell whether this was worser than just being mauled to death like your poor friend over there.
the hybrid notices how your eyes drifted towards your friend before he pouts. his eyebrows furrow slightly, and the corners of his lips point downwards.
"aw, come on! i'll treat you good, promise!"
you stare at him with a dead expression before replying to him in the most deadpan voice you could come up with.
"you literally live in a dinosaur enclosure."
"hey! it's not my fault that those humans took me away and placed me in here! besides... it's pretty comfortable. they give me food and i don't really need to hunt anymore."
he then pouts before sighing dreamily.
"you really are the prettiest... can't believe i had to adore you from afar."
he shakes his head before using one of his hands to caress your cheek. you freeze as you feel his sharp claws touch your skin. shit, were they always this sharp? and what the hell did he mean by adore? did he like you?
"a-adore me? what, are you in love or something-"
"love? yeah... i am in love with you... even if this is the first time we officially talked."
he mutters, hearts in his eyes as he continues to gently touch your face as though you were a delicate statue.
huh... so he loves you? no wonder he isn't eating you... yeah, you remember doing some tasks in his enclosure before this encounter. maybe that's when he fell for you. wait, didn't he also say something about a promise?
"hey the promise-"
"ah, i said i would stop trying to eat them if they gave you to me."
oh.
so the higher ups really traded you and your friend just so this dinosaur guy would stop trying to eat them.
you continue deadpanning at him before groaning. damn it, why did you have to be subjected to the feelings of this stupid hybrid?
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angelltheninth · 1 year
Note
what if. malleus, leona, and azul's usually shy s/o furiously riding their cock :(( they've just been sooo pent up lately and they really couldnt wait much longer :((( (love ur writing btw,,,)
Thank you Anon! I'm glad you like my writing!
Pairing: Leona Kingscholar, Azul Ashengrotto, Malleus Draconia x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, cock riding, praise, growling, possessiveness, nipple sucking
A/N: These three are always the ones that get the filthiest requests.
LEONA
He was surprised initially at how forward you were in your desire to ride since you're usually the more shy one. But then again he has been a little preoccupied lately with family things. Sure you can use your fingers but they pale in comparison to his cock.
If his punishment is seeing you bounce up and down on his cock with a wild look in your eyes that matches his then so be it. He won't hold back either, letting out both purrs and growls of appreciation when you take him in all the way.
AZUL
He always knew you had this side of you, this uncontrollable lustful side. It was only a matter of time before it shined through, with his help of course. He's always open to trying new things with you, riding his was definitely on that list. Might as well do it now.
Can't keep his hands or mouth to himself, leaning in to suck one nipple then the next, his hands cupping, grabbing and smacking your ass when you dare to slow down. You started this, so you better finish it, you better make him come hard.
MALLEUS
He can't hold back his praise, more like semi-coherent praise actually, because seeing you be like this is a great surprise to him. He always saw you as his, and himself as yours, but it seems like you are finally staking your claim on him as well.
His lips wonder where ever he can put them. Your lips, your neck, your breasts, your nipples, your shoulders, intent on leaving you as breathless as he is right now. You riding his cock, rolling your hips in his lap with wild abandon will stay edged in his mind and his dreams.
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loving-august · 1 month
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practicing him for your return demonstration!!
pairings. nursing student reader x various
notes. hi hi hi! first off, I don't know on what other nursing schools would do this but I tried my best to align this on what happened in my school. every institutions are different on their ways of teaching and procedures! if you are an actual nurse and youa re reading this...I hope u enjoy hehehe
btw @uravichii your mention last time made me write this 😧 (I'm heavily inspired)
+ it's been so long that i forgot how to write. (I joined the publication club in order for my writing skills to be more improved) and !! I'm planning to be posting here and there but not like i used to post here few years ago. Especially I'm a med student— I love and hate my course with a passion ❤️
links. navigation | taglist
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IMAGINE being a nursing student and you don't have someone to demo on....
Your ever so supportive boyfriend is there to be your patient for a while until you finish your practice on the return demonstrations. it's kind of funny when you try to say out loud the greetings and pretending that you are talking to him as if he's a patient and he will snort or make fun of you. A smack on his arm whenever he makes fun of you and you would start again from the very beginning.
"Stop laughing!"
"Sorry, you're just too funny."
You pouted, you replied in an annoyed tone, "how am I supposed to finish this with you looking at me like that." His gaze became more playful. He knows that you're annoyed. "What face?"
"Like that!"
He did it again.
"I swear I hope i'll make a mistake when trying intramuscular injection with you."
He raised both of his hands in the air playfully to show his surrender yo you. "Alright, alright. I'll stop this time, I promise."
And he did kept his promise.
With your words stuttering and couple of cussing of you forgetting the definition that you memorized, you finally finished saying the procedures. And to the fun part, the actual procedure to be done on your boyfriend.
You kept in mind that you still talking to him as if it's your actual patient.
"Sir, good morning, I am y/n l/n, a nursing student. Today i'll be administering the inject to you, is that okay with you sir?"
He nodded.
You prepared your 3cc syringe with your Plain NSS to be injected to him.
"Sir, I want you to relax your muscles sir. This will be quick," you began to inject him, and it was quicker than you expected. After that, you placed a dry cotton ball to the affected area and secured it with a transpore, and you began to clean up the equipments and the trash.
You approached to him and asked, "how was it? Was my hand heavy while injecting you?"
You were worried if you have hurted him since you were just a beginner and a bit nervous when doing this kind of thing.
"Not bad, you were gentle. Although you're kind of shaking before you injected me but after that? you were smooth." He answered.
You were thankful that he allowed you to be your 'patient' for your practice. "Thank you for trusting me. It means a lot to me, you know?"
"No problem. I'm glad I could help."
You can't help but hug and peppered his face with kisses.
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© 2024 loving-august. All Rights Reserved. Do not repost. Do not plagiarize. Do not share on other platforms. Will get slapped if u do.
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euovennia · 1 year
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"what's so funny?" | task force 141
this blurb has been on my mind so much ever since it first appeared in my inbox and i'm so happy to have finally written it, my dumb little gen z brain couldn't resist. thank you for requesting, and as always, i hope you enjoy <3
pairing: youngest!reader x (platonic) task force 141
warnings: none
summary: the team gets curious when you seem to having just a little too much fun while scrolling through your phone. (based on this request)
The team doesn't seem to notice your small huffs of laughter at first, and if they do, they don't seem to give it a second thought. Why would they? You laughing at random videos on your phone had practically become second nature to them by this point. So, they remain quiet, each of them doing their own separate thing in the common area. Gaz reading some random article about sharks on his phone, Ghost and Soap watching some low-budget action film on the television, and Price busying himself with some random crossword from a book of puzzles he'd picked up for himself not too long ago. They don't bother to interrupt your screen time as you sit propped up in the corner with your phone in your hands. They've come to learn you're often far too enthralled with the minute long videos you religiously scroll through to give them more than a quick smile of acknowledgement. They don't mind, however, it seems to make you happy.
Even so, they can't help but each feel a little curious as your faint smiles of amusement turn into small fits of giggles that you can barely contain with a painful bite to your lip. By the time Gaz finishes up reading his article, you're practically bursting at the seams as you try to contain your laughter. He watches you from across the room with great interest as you give your phone screen another swipe with a swift movement of your thumb. He keeps his eyes concentrated on your smiling face, eagerly waiting to see your reaction to the video you're currently watching. He's glad he did, because he's first to witness the way your resolve practically shatters as you fall into a loud fit of laughter. Each of the men give each other a shared look before Ghost stands up from the uncomfortable couch and makes his way over to you.
He stops just a few steps shy of you, "What's so funny?"
You give yourself a moment to calm down and take in a deep breath before handing him your phone with a large grin. He watches the video, his brows knitting themselves together in a state of confusion before he looks back down at you once the short video is finished playing.
"You're kidding me."
You grab your phone from his hands and haphazardly place it back onto the small table before standing up and grabbing his wrist.
"We need to do that, now."
He lets out a grunt, "We're not fuckin'–"
He's cut off by you reaching forward and grabbing onto his wrist with a soft touch.
"Please? I really wanna do it."
His eyes flicker back over to the video that's looping itself on your phone before settling his gaze back onto you who's staring up at him with a dopey grin and hopeful eyes. He's found he has a hard time saying no to you nowadays.
He sighs, "Fine."
Your face glistens with delight at his words and you're quick to pull him away from the room with the rest of the team still being able to hear you say something like, "this is gonna be so funny!"
Price, convinced you've whisked Ghost away to take part in something diabolical, quickly gets up from his chair and makes his way over to your abandoned phone. He picks it up with a careful grip and watches the video that's still looping.
Soap is the first to speak up after a few moments have passed, "What was it?"
Price's face is one of pure confusion as he turns the phone to face the men awaiting his response, "It's just a slice of bread falling over."
Gaz's face lights up as he gets up from his seat, "I wanna see some bread fall over," He cheers before rushing off in the direction of where you had taken Ghost.
The remaining two men watch him scurry off before turning to each other, the eldest of the two looking exceptionally confused as he speaks out, "Is this meant to be funny?"
Soap shrugs, "I prefer the one where the bread is having flashbacks, but the original one is fine too."
Price gapes at the Scotsman, "Flashbacks?!"
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cyxnidx · 2 months
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HI HI HELLO! I saw ur cat n mouse gamr for Wriothesley and loved the idea so much! I would like to request f! Reader x wanderer (genshin) playing a cat n mouse game as well hehe. And if you dont mind please do write more on the smut part I am very curious on how itll play out 🫢 TY!
CAT & MOUSE 2 !
character pairing: wanderer / scaramouche x f!reader
warnings: smut, degradation(use of 'slut, whore') + a little praise, oral (m!receiving), cat & mouse game, slight bondage (ropes🤭)
a/n: Hi~, apologies for such a late response :(. had to get some sort of inspo flowing. i'm glad you enjoyed, & hope you enjoy this one even more <3.
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"where are you, slut." wanderer's tone echos throughout the house.
you're hiding - hiding, being bratty, as usual. getting your boyfriend all riled up, only to leave him to deal with his boner himself.
not this time, though. it seems you've gotten him a little too riled up today.
you slap a hand over your mouth when you hear his shoes against the hardwood floor, hoping he doesn't find you.
now you're realizing its foolish - and your hiding place doesn't make it any better. under the bed, really?
"come out, come out, wherever you are.." he calls again, obviously teasing you. hes so close, so near, yet you don't have sight of him.
the adrenaline rush is addictive. it's probably the main reason you're doing this to begin with. the rush of hiding, and the chance of being caught, and fucked to oblivion?
its addicting.
you notice it goes quiet. it doesnt seem like the wanderer is walking anymore, nor is he calling for you.
theres only one conclusion you can come to when this occurs.
and before you know it, you're yanked up by your ankles and pinned to the ground.
you've been caught.
you fight him, for the fun of it. to give him a hard time, not that you want to win. not necessarily. the whole point is to get under his skin.
finally, he gets you under control, and thats when you notice a rope being held between his teeth. he holds your hands above your head with one hand, while with the other, he works to tie your wrists together.
"scara - let's talk about this!" you whine, only adding fuel to the fire. you knew he wouldn't wanna talk - why would he?
without a word, he throws you onto the bed you once were taking cover under. "not another word, you hear me?" he demands. "say anything more, and I'll stuff that pretty mouth with my cock."
your eyes narrow, analyzing his. lust swirls in his pupils, a gaze of daggers stabbing you. though, despite the betting stare he's giving, you take it as an opportunity to provoke him more.
"well, if you're so bold, do it-"
you're basically cut off at the last syllable of your sentence when he moves you off the bed. his grip is harsh on your waist, and you were on the ground before you knew it.
"open your mouth," he says in a haste, unbuckling his pants and fiddling with his zipper.
"wha-"
"open. your. fucking. mouth." he demands, stroking the bud of precum over his cock as he waits. you let your tongue fall out of your mouth, mouth wide, awaiting to be filled by his cock.
not taking more than a minute, he shoves his cock down your throat, immediately fucking you.
"you," he pants, the warmth of your throat hitting him like a truck. like a pressure he never knew he needed for the minute. "fuckin' slut. always rilin' me up n', shit."
he continues to shove himself down your throat, your gags filling the otherwise quiet house. he grabs a harsh fistful of your hair and your hands go to massage his balls, tempting him to cum down your throat.
his head tilts back. "god, damnit. you're sucha little slut, fuck, taking my cock like a good little girl. mmh, g'na let me cum down your slutty little throat? huh?"
you attempt to moan in response, the tightening gesture throwing scaramouche over the edge, filling your throat with his seed.
he waits for you to finish sucking every little bit off his cock before moving you to the bed. "good little slut, you must like to be used." he mumbles, turning you over on your stomach and arching your back. "g'na treat you how you want, yeah? like the little whore you love to be."
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pizzaapeteer · 2 months
Text
Springtime fun
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Pairings: Enzo Berkshire x female reader Summary: 2.5 k. Enzo is infatuated by you in a sundress, so captative by you in it that he has to take you right now.
Warnings: nsfw, semi-public sex, female reader, swearing. Divider: Pretty divider found here!
a/n: I'm super glad to have finally finished this as it has been in my WIP since December 💀 Many of my friends will know about that so this one's for you. Ty for all the lovely encouragement for helping me finish it 💛 also heads up this is actually my first PIV smut.
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Enzo loved spring. He loved the flowers that bloomed in the gardens, which he often picked to give to you. He loved watching alongside you the animals awaken from hibernation, listening as you listed facts about them. He loved being able to lie outside in the grass with his friends after class, enjoying the warmth of the sun as they messed around. But most of all, he loved that spring meant sundresses. He had grown fond of them and loved seeing the different colours that paired well against your skin tone. The delicate shape of the dresses and how they hugged your body. He loved how versatile they were. Sometimes you'd wear a long flowy, one that would swirl in the wind or a short flare, one that fell just at the mid of your thighs. Some of them had lacy sleeves that covered your shoulders with elegant necklines. Others were backless, revealing to Enzo that you weren't wearing a bra. On the whole, when you wore a sundress, he was in heaven. 
He can still recall the first time he saw you in one, the weekend before Easter break. Sprawled out on a spot of grass near the black lake, Enzo lay with his friends. The hot sun warmed his neck, a constant breeze drifting by. He had been attempting to catch the little daisies Mattheo had plucked and rolled into balls to launch at him. Theo watched, amused, before turning his attention to snicker at Draco’s arrogant attempt to teach Astoria how to skip stones. Blaise rested nearby on a picnic mat, not wanting to get grass stains on his pants. The sound of your laughter caught Enzo’s ears, whipping his head up to see you and Pansy approaching, carrying a jug of lemonade. His eyes rose, breath hitching as he took you in. Dressed in a royal blue sundress, scattered with white daisies, the colour popping against your skin. He dragged his eyes up your exposed legs, practically salivating at the sight of your curves fitting snugly in the frock. There was something about the sundress that made you look elegant yet sensual. Though, clearly not just to him, as he caught sight of his friend’s stares.
He stood up, licking his lips, still holding the slightly crumpled daisies in his hands. Walking forward, he embraced you in a hug, a smile pulling at his face. His hands wrapped around you, feeling the soft skin of your back. “Hey gorgeous,” he whispered, his face pulling back to give you a passionate kiss. He felt your hands slide around his neck as you leaned up on your tippy toes to meet his kiss. “I like your dress,” a flirty smirk stretched across his face. The sound of your sweet giggle was music to his ears as you thanked him. Remembering the daisies, he unfolded his hands, chuckling, “for you.” You beamed at him, your eyes sparkling with amusement at his ‘gift’. “Not your usual flowers, Enz, but I accept.” He smiled, satisfied, taking your hand and leading you to join the others. Gracefully, you sat down on the rug beside Blaise, noticing Pansy had already settled herself down next to Mattheo. Enzo watched cautiously as Blaise gave you a once over, taking his own seat across from you. He immersed himself in conversation with you, admiring the way you rambled about your day. His fingers found comfort resting on your thighs, tracing circles. The warm sun shone, as breezes of wind blew your dress up slightly. As you talked, he found his mind wandering, unable to fully concentrate. Because of his height, he overlooked you even when sitting, allowing him to peer perfectly at the top of your breasts, sitting snugly against the dress’s neckline. His fingers twitched against your leg, pinching your skin softly as he thought about your nipples. 
At Pansy’s offer of lemonade, Enzo’s gaze turned momentarily to accept. He reached out to receive the two drinks, passing one to you. Cheering with you, his eyes observed the way you drank thirstily. Too fast though, as some of the liquid spilled from your cup down your mouth. It ran rapidly, dripping down your cleavage, causing you to squeal at the cold sensation. Your outburst grabbed the attention of your friends as you looked up, smiling sheepishly while muttering about being clumsy. Blaise shook his head, chuckling as he passed you a napkin, watching you wipe the liquid away.
As you cleaned yourself up, Enzo's brown eyes caught your attention, his honey orbs twinkling with mischief. “We’re going to take a walk,” Enzo announced, grabbing your hand and pulling you up, leaving no time for you to protest. You stood, almost stumbling, over Blaise as you found your footing, trailing behind in Enzo’s firm hold. “Enzo, slow down,” you exclaimed, practically tripping over your feet as you trailed behind Enzo, his long legs striding down past the trees. He flicked his head, giving you a cheeky grin over his shoulder before he slowed down under a large pine tree. 
You took in the pretty scenery as you furrowed your brows, wondering why he had just pulled you away from your friends. Enzo seized the moment of your distraction to push you gently against the tree, grinning as you gasped. His lips invaded your neck, peppering hungry kisses across your soft skin. One of his hands reached down to grasp your hip, lightly pushing you further against the tree. You moaned into the kiss, your hands finding their way around his waist, the bark scratching your back. Enzo’s touch wandered down your thigh with his other hand, sliding it up under your dress. “Do you know what this dress is doing to me?” he mumbled against your ear, nipping at it. You looked up into his sweet brown eyes, his pupils conveying his lust clearly. He flashed you an irresistible smile and, in a moment's time, his arms enveloped around your hips, effortlessly hoisting you up. His muscles flexed, the clear evidence of his quidditch training shown as he secured you against the tree with one arm, the other trailing up to pull needily at the neckline of your dress. Instinctively, you wrapped your legs around his waist, your hands sliding up to grip his broad shoulders. The movement of your dress spilling, revealing further the tops of your chest, had Enzo groaning against your ear. “Fuck, and you're not even wearing a bra. You're driving me mad, baby.”
You squirmed against his eagerly aggressive hold, never having seen Enzo this feral before. The feeling of his hands tending to your exposed breasts, kneading at the complimentary flesh, driving you crazy. His fingers pulled further at the fabric, wanting to see all of you. You gasped, leaning your head back against the tree, his head moving down to capture your perky nipples in his sweet mouth. The taste of lemonade filled his senses, mixed with the sweetness of your skin as his tongue lapped at it. His tongue swipes at the soft buds, the sounds of your mews making his cock twitch against his now constricting trousers. 
He’d never seen a piece of clothing accentuate your figure quite like this sundress had. The captivating blend of your alluring presence and almost bewitching sensualness drove him wild. He couldn’t believe what sorcery this was. He craved you in a way he never had before, his patience lost in the moment, unwilling to wait. His hands scrunched up the fabric, pushing your dress higher, his fingertips grazing against your lacy undies. He dragged a whimper from you, pleading for more, the eagerness of Enzo’s movements and his desire to make quick work created a pool of wetness between your thighs. He rested you down for an instant before his hands shifted, hiking one of your legs up and pressing your thigh firmly into place against the tree. The cool air blew between your spread legs, making you shiver, Enzo’s hunger making you whine. He shot you a teasing smile at your impatience. “Gonna fuck you hard in your pretty little sundress.” 
His free hand pulled at the restricting material, snapping your panties and extracting an agitated gasp from you. His grin widened smugly, stuffing your panties into his pocket. “Got your knickers in a twist, did I?” he chuckled at his own joke. You roll your eyes playfully at your boyfriend, watching in anticipation for his next move. Still with your leg clutched by one of his hands, he skillfully maneuvered his belt and pants down with the other. Your eyes drifted, your core throbbing seeing his hardened cock, the pink tip already dampened with pre-cum. You bit your lip, eyes blown with lust as you yearned for him to fill you up. He rubs his throbbing cock along your slit, coating it in your wetness teasingly, his eyes locked on your whiney face. He smirked, leaning in to capture your lips in a kiss, aggressively slipping his tongue into your mouth. He took advantage of you being distracted to plunge his hips forward, sinking his cock deep inside of you, revelling in the way he heard your whines turn into muffled moans. His lips moved against yours, not letting you escape his ferocious kiss, his hand moving to caress your face. His fingers clasping at the nape of your neck, tilting your head upward. 
Your head spins, overwhelmed by the feeling of him pounding into your cunt and your breath being stolen by his sweet, ravenous lips. Your hands find their way into his hair tugging at his brown locks, making him grunt as his head jerks back, allowing you to catch your breath. He presses you further into the tree, his pace increasing as you throw your head back, mouth agape as moans fall from your lips. His grip on your thigh tightens as he uses you as his stability, his fingers kneading into your soft skin, no doubt leaving marks. 
“Fuck me. Look how well you’re taking me. Such a pretty little slut letting me fuck you out in the open.” His words have your lips parting, sensual moans falling from them. Your head tilts back to lean on the tree, your eyes scrunching shut. Your mind rushes with a state of wooziness, cheeks burning as your body rises in heat. He loves the way you fall apart at his words as hips thrust roughly, groaning as he watches the way your pussy clenches around his cock. His hand reaches to rub your clit, erupting a string of incoherent whines out of you. The feel of your shallow breath against his skin makes him shiver. Your heart thumping while your body convulses with each thrust, the head of his cock slamming repeatedly inside, hitting that perfect spot. The noises of slapping echoes softly around the forest floor, though Enzo is so consumed with how his body is feeling to question if he took you further enough away from his friends.
“Such a good girl, that’s it clench around my cock, baby. God. Your pussy is so tight, you sound so fucking pretty.” Enzo’s words were spilling out of him in mumbles as his muscles tightened around his own pleasure building. He leans his head against your forehead as he rubs your clit faster, holding off barely on his own orgasm. He desperately wants to hear you fall apart before he does, his lips brushing yours as he whispers, “come on pretty girl, be a good girl and cum for me.” His words of encouragement send you over the edge as your body shakes, a rise of pleasure exploding through you. Your pussy pulses, squeezing him as your hands grasp at his shoulders, nails digging grasping at his shirt. A series of your own incoherent words fall from your lips in lustful moans. Groans fall from Enzo’s lips, his eyes shut as you come undone, her unravelling triggering his own climax. His hands clench your thighs, pressing his hips further, enjoying how your pussy shakes at the feeling of him filling you up. 
He listens to the combination of your breathless pants blending together with his as your foreheads stick together. You two stay close, his cock resting comfortably still in your warm pussy, not wanting to pull out yet. As his eyes open, he takes in the gorgeous appearance of your flushed cheeks, the heightened desire fading from your eyes. A smile spreads across his face, his hand releasing your thigh back down. Tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear, his hand cups your cheek. “God, you’re fucking beautiful.” His lips are on yours in a moment, taking you by surprise. 
The kiss is sweet and passionate. The feeling of warmth and love radiating off of him. Your lips moved in unison in a fervent dance, matching each other. With your arms wrapped around his neck, you moan, feeling him twitch, still being nestled inside you. Enzo pulls back with a cheeky grin, before he shifts his hips, removing himself from you.
He tucks himself back into his trousers, a sense of satisfaction flooding him, his eyes never leaving you. Amusement pools in them, watching how those once feral hands now delicately smooth out the fabric of your dress. Merlin, that dress, was going to be the death of him. Watching you fix yourself up just made him admire once again how it captured such an alluring feeling within him. 
Your movements are paused, your attention caught by the feeling of cum dripping slowly down your inner thigh. His brows raised, chuckling, taking in the nuance of her reaction as your cheeks blushed a deeper red. “Uh Enz, my panties please.” Your hand reached out, prompting him to hand the stuffed lace back to you. 
He chuckles, “No no, they’re staying with me, princess.” He notices your concerned look at heading back to your friend's pantie-less. “It’s alright. Everyone will just think it’s lemonade.” His face breaks into a cheeky grin at his assurance, sliding his tongue over his lips. The idea of you sitting soaked in his cum for the rest of the picnic in nothing but your dress is sending blood straight to his groin once again. 
You roll your eyes at his stupid statement, lunging at him to grab your underwear back. He’s quick and is already running past you and back towards the group, leaving you no choice but to follow. While your attempt to catch him is not apathetic, his legs are longer than yours and he reaches the clearing your friends are still sitting in first. At the sight of them you stall your running, catching your breath, shooting Enzo a glare. He chuckles, manoeuvring between Draco and Theo to sit himself down, patting the picnic blanket for you to join. The others turn their heads at your entrance, noticing your slightly flushed expression and Enzo’s extra cheeky nature. Theo speaks up, always nosey to find out information. “How was your walk?”
Enzo watches with mischievous eyes as you plant a seat down beside him, as he replies to Theo. “Scenic, lots of pretty things down there.” He grins at you, trying not to give away too much. You blush, meeting his gaze already thinking about the next time you can wear another sundress.
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