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aseaofyoongi · 1 year

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just desserts | jjk

jeon jungkook x reader (f)

genre: one night stand; neighbors; set in the summer cause i miss it dearly.

rating: mature audiences only (strictly 18+)

summary: jungkook is your next door neighbor who you have only crossed a few words with. however one hot summer day theres a city wide blackout and strangely enough, he shows up at your door w brownies. . and other delights.

warnings: crush culture; mentions of lack of confidence; masturbation (f.); foul language; naughty thoughts; penetrative sex; unprotected sex (wrap it up); dry humping; oral (m. receiving); praise; sub-ish jk!; jk has a huge dick;?brief mention of seokjin and joon; oc is very hørny for jk basically; those fucking gifs of jk w his long hair and glasses inspired this so thank you jeon jungkook; edited but excuse any mistakes please.

word count: 6,3 thousand words

posted: monday - january 30, 2023

A sixth floor walk up in the middle of the scorching month of July was certainly not fitting on your basis of an ideal home. But after your extensive apartment search always ended with high-priced, rodent infested corners New Yorkers often mistook for apartments, you were happy to shake on the deal for this studio apartment with Seokjin without having to break your piggy bank or burn a staggering hole in your pocket.

“When is the elevator going to be fixed, Seokjin,” you fanned yourself as beads of sweat adorned your white tank top.

“That’ll have to be when I finally win the lotto,” he guffawed from behind the plexiglass square standing between you and his office.

“Very funny,” you mumbled, beginning your journey up the stairs. He didn’t hear you though, instead his focus remained on whichever drama he played on the television.

Kim Seokjin, was the name of a superstar—or so he says. He claims to have attended the Juilliard School for about two years, with dreams of becoming the newest face of Hollywood and all of their high-priced productions. When Seokjin’s dad fell ill, he couldn’t keep up with the demands of keeping so many residence buildings open, he had to close more than half his buildings and just like that, financial strains created a hurdle the size of Mt. Everest in the life of Seokjin. He was left without his dreams, without his father and taking care of a building where the rent was too cheap to gain a profit, making just enough to cover the mortgage.

Normally, you weren’t so exposed to details of your landlord’s lives, but Seokjin was different. He was also your friend.

“I put water bottles around the halfway mark. The last thing I need is a lawsuit over a dead body,” he yelled up as you barely made it to floor two.

“How considerate. I’ll try not to die while you’re on the clock,” it was too hot to continue your journey up. . too hot to form coherent sentences. You just wanted to make it to your apartment and sit in front of the fan for the rest of the day.

“That’s all I’m saying,” you heard.

Once your foot met the landing on the third floor, your eyes desperately scanned for the promise of beverages Seokjin had informed you of, but the small table set-up on the other end of the hallway was completely empty. Leaving behind only the particles of dust and pure oxygen to inhale. Fuck—you actually felt like you were going to pass out. Just three more floors.

You wanted to yell down a snarky remark towards Seokjin but you figured that required too much energy you simply did not have.

Moving to New York was a decision you had made impulsively after feeling like you had overstayed your time in your parents house post-high school. You averted college at all costs because it just wasn’t for you. Lectures seemed like a bore and professors were individuals being paid to legally torture their students so you joyfully averted that nightmare all together. Your immediate option was to get a job, but after many places began getting closed down back home, you found yourself job hopping as a means for survival.

It was not convenient, so you boarded a train to the city that never sleeps in hopes of never looking back. . And you haven’t since setting foot here eleven months ago.

“Just one more floor,” you uttered to no one in particular but the patchy silver handrail and the chipped white walls.

Your apartment was now in your line of vision and the only thing standing between you and the black steel door were just ten sets of stairs. Walking into the building your body was glistening with a thin layer of sweat but now you were drenched, your top was sticking to your skin and the thick beads of dampness rolled down your body like the condensation on soft drinks from fast food places.

Heaving with exhaustion you took a seat on the very last step of the sixth floor, finally you made it but you just needed a minute, just a single minute to catch your breath. The fucking heat was unbearable; intolerable; irregular, you could have sworn the sun inched closer and closer to planet earth as the day progressed.

Initially, you hadn’t heard as much as the squeaky hinges on the door frame, you were too divulged in your suffering from the days heat. Not to mention, your eyes were closed and you were too focused in a state of cooling down before hiding behind the thin walls of your apartment.

“Are you ok?” His voice became trapped in the muggy air surrounding the two of you. The bass in his tone never ceased to make your knees turn to jello, to make your toes curl and to make the hairs on the back of your neck stand straight.

Was the heat not enough suffering for one day?

“Oh,” you cleared your throat, “I’m fine. It’s just the heat.”

“Yeah, it definitely feels like we were shipped straight to hell today.”

“I don’t know, I think hell might be cooler than this,” he chuckled lightly—you’re foolish stammer and poor excuse of words enlightened him. The sun was still beaming brightly but you swore you saw stars after he had serenaded you so sweetly with the sound of his infectious laugh.

“I think you might be right,” he locked his door and walked past you on the stairs, “have a good day neighbor.”

“You too, Jungkook,” you called after him as he began his way down the unfortunate set of stairs.

Sometimes, you felt as if you’d been blessed as the main lead in the plot of a cheesy rom com, but after today the idea was really cemented in your head. Ok, look. . Jungkook was your hot neighbor, like very hot, unearthly hot, like he was handcrafted by God himself, kind of hot. Furthermore, only you and him resided on the sixth floor, living in a pair of tiny apartments right beside one another. Although that was all you had gathered so far, besides his name, it was enough to fill your head with delusions and daydreams of the man your eyes loved to gawk at every chance you got.

You read him very well, like the everlasting pages of your favorite novel. His silky hair was long and inched over the nape of his neck, he wore specs that sat perfectly on the bridge of his nose accentuating his big doe eyes. Though his features seemed soft his aura was borderline the complete opposite—a silver hooped piercing sat in the right side of his rosette lips while tattoos peeked right out of the sleeves of the white button up he usually wore.

You closed the door to your apartment, removed your shoes and hung your keys on the flathead thumbtack pierced into the wall by the front door.

The apartment felt even more scorching than the bustling sidewalks. After opening all three of the windows you were bestowed to have between your room and the living room, you turned on your fan and walked into the bathroom to draw a much needed cool bath. Stripping off your sweaty clothes, you stepped into the tub. For a minute, you were immersed in the utter silence floating around you—all your ears detected was the distanced whirring fan all the way from your room.

Behind the back of your eyelids, the world was dark and your thoughts brought you back to your encounters with Jungkook on the stairs just moments ago. Your interactions with the boy were usually extended to a whispered, ‘hi’ or ‘hello,’ never as prolonged as it played out today.

In your thoughts, Jungkook strolled by day and night, as you embraced every look, every utterance, every single time he brushed his hair back using his slender fingers. He was the cultivation of your desires and the reason why your heart strummed against your chest a bit harder the days you saw him leaving around 12PM every afternoon.

It baffled you how he always managed to look fucking good every single day—even during the hottest days of the summer, while you looked like vile beast he managed to look so perfect.

. . So fucking perfect.

The faint tingles traveling through your body, caused your skin to form goosebumps. The pulsation of your clit is what really began driving you to clouded thoughts to imagine his hands against you. You imagined the pads of his fingers to be soft mimicking a delicate velvet fabric and while you crumbled under his touch, he would murmur the filthiest of words against your ear.

Those ministrations could be enough to have you coming hard—he wouldn’t even have to fuck you. Shit, even looking at him was enough.

Being away from all of the toys you safely stored in your nightstand, you grabbed the detachable shower head and adjusted the water pressure, prepped your feet up on the rim of the tub aiming it in between your legs in an inevitable attack against your clit.

Your head lulled back in sure bliss as you fed your carnal desires, the only thing missing was him.

“Fuck—” How you longed for him to have you in this position, so sensitive to his sinful doings; so aroused for him. It was like a hunger your fingers, toys and this stupid shower head could not satisfy.

The vibration of his name dripped from your lips like a chant and you felt that bubbling fervor form in the pit of your stomach. Spurts of pleasure rushed out of you so intensely you were overwhelmed by the explosions of fireworks as soon as your orgasm erupted.

When your breath had settled and you finally felt like you could stand, you opted for a quick shower, rushing to get into your pajamas and plopped down on your bed right in-front of the fan for a nap, having your dreams quickly invaded by him.

Work sucked on Monday afternoons.

All you ever did was stare out of the ticket booth at the movie theater as the few customers who despised the weekend rush came in. Besides, there was rarely anything to occupy your mind with on slow nights like this. You had already sweeped and your co-worker, Namjoon was surveying the screening rooms for any shenanigans the younger crowds could possibly be rattling up.

You always left that up to him—he was the more intimidating one between the two of you anyway.

“Room 5 is a wreck,” Namjoon announced his entrance into the lobby, “I’m gonna go clean up.”

“Walkie me if you need help,” you tapped the walkie clipped onto your belt buckle and he nodded, grabbing the broom and a few rags.

Your stomach grew irritated as you continued golfing down copious amounts of candies but the truth was you were starving and had no time to eat breakfast this morning; let alone make something to bring to work to eat for lunch.

Namjoon was a film major. He was the spitting image of a cliche by the way—his parents wanted him to become a doctor but that wasn’t his passion so he ran away to the city and began trotting up the golden stairs to his dream. You wished you had even an ounce of his determination, he knew exactly where he wanted to go and how to get there while you still stood at the base of the mountain of your life. . unbeknownst on how to tackle it or which way it was to begin your way up to the summit.

There was nothing you had a passion for and quite frankly sometimes you were utterly clueless as to what your purpose was in life.

Had no dreams and no goals to strive towards; nothing extraordinary you expected to blossom in your future. There was nothing, nothing and more nothingness occupying the hours of your days.

“My child,” Seokjin walked in through the glass door, he looked like he'd been chilling in an oven.

“Seokjin,” you narrowed your eyes in his direction, “what are you doing here? I thought you never left the air conditioner in your office plus don’t you hate the movie theater?”

“You’re absolutely correct. The dimmed lighting here is horrid and I deserve better than that. .”

“Of course, you do.”

“But,” he leaned over the counter, “I saw your little neighbor boyfriend leaving the building today and I was fucking gagged.”

“Trust me, Seokjin. I know how good he fucking looks in that white button up. I’ve lived it.”

“No,” he squealed, “He had a black short sleeve shirt today and—”

“Spit it out, bitch.”

“He has a full fucking sleeve,” he squealed.

“No. Fucking. Way.” The pauses in between your words were not placed for dramatic effect—you were in fact attempting to paint a detailed mental image of that sinful man.

How unfair is it that he gets to walk around us mortals with our average looks while he exudes such grand flawlessness.

“Looks like someone owes me fifty bucks.”

The bet. . you had completely forgotten about that.

“I'll pass it over on Friday once I get paid.”

“I told you,” he began, “once a man gets one tattoo they’re usually covered in them.”

“Yea, but he has this soft look to him, you know?” you shrugged, “I thought he might have had a few. But a whole sleeve?”

“Jungkook is a walking juxtaposition.”

“I suppose he is.”

Seokjin sat on the counter emptying a handful of sweets into his palm, “what are you doing eating all of this candy anyway?”

“Uh,” your thoughts were still filtered towards Jungkook. You wanted to see him so bad, “I’m starving and just waiting on Namjoon to finish cleaning room five so I can go on my lunch break.”

“Namjoon as in the buff hottie with the deep voice?”

“I guess.”

“Room five?” You nodded.

“I’ll take one ticket for whatever the fuck you guys are showing right now.”

“Didn’t you say you hated it here?” You printed a ticket to. . you looked down, to the latest minion movie and ripped off the top half, “you complained about the lights or something.”

“Can you just give me a ticket? I need it to execute my master plan,” he rushed your actions in cutting the ticket you had printed, “besides you owe me for coming all the way down here with vital intel about your secret crush.”

“I owe you nothing. I’ll be paying half a hundred for that by the end of the week, remember?”

“Consider this,” he snatched the ticket from your grasp, holding it beside his toothy grin, “your down payment.”

Before you could form a further argument, Seokjin vanished from in front of you and sprinted down the main hallway to screening room five.

The best thing about your job were the designated days off you had throughout the week. Tuesdays and Fridays were yours to enjoy and while today was Tuesday your schedule was still jam packed with an abundance of errands to complete come the early morning.

You had paid your utility bills, finished your laundry, cleaned your apartment and even set out poultry to defrost by the time you made it back home. It had been a very productive day.

Your last stop was the grocery store.

Oftentimes, you’d wander aimlessly, losing yourself in each aisle wondering about how the better half lives, how much better life would be if you didn’t have to keep incessant reminders of your weekly budgets stamped to the back of your head.

How much easier life would be if money wasn’t such a big determinant in the choices we were forced to make in our day to day lives.

Oh, how much easier life would be.

You only grabbed the essentials for the next couple of weeks including—rice, greens, fruits, water, milk, meat, and a variation of breakfast options.

Temptation roamed in the air as you headed out of the cereal aisle you were face to face with a bakery section where an unhealthy amount of baked goods were sprawled out—practically blaring out your name. All of the delicious delights made your mouth water and you couldn’t help but gravitate deeper and deeper, guided by the aroma of the sweet desserts.

“Neighbor?” It was his earthy voice, the same one you’d only heard vibrate among the walls of the tiny hallway of the sixth floor the two of you shared.

“Jungkook?” You looked up from the brownies and your eyes met his figure, in the same clothes you usually saw him leave his apartment. It was his work uniform, “You work here?”

“Is that judgment in your tone I hear?”

“N-no,” You stammered. Was he fucking with you? He had to be fucking with you. “Of course not. I would never judge—”

“I was just playing, neighbor.” Phew.

“I always come here. How come I haven’t seen you before?”

“I’m usually baking in the back. I was just coming out to set these down,” he held up the dozen cupcakes sitting inside the boxed packaging.

“You bake?” Hopefully, you sounded more stunned than judgemental because you were i. fact stunned.

“I’m an aspiring pastry chef. I go to culinary school,” Jungkook, your beautiful, doe eyed, tattooed, pierced neighbor was also a baker. Ok.

For some reason that made him so much more attractive.

“I would not have been able to guess that even if I tried,” You mentally kicked yourself at the lack of filter in your words. You weren’t trying to offend him and hopefully he does not take it as such.

He chuckled—that’s a good sign, “People tend to simulate that very reaction but you can certainly knock on my door if you’re ever craving something sweet. I promise they are amazing.”

Craving something sweet?

Your thoughts traveled back to the enticing thoughts you possessed a few days ago while you took a bath, the vivid image of the water pressure against your cunt and the pure desire to have him near made you dizzy. And now he was near, just a couple of feet away.

A wave of warmth traveled through your extremities, the pulse on your clit turned to an overbearing throb, you wanted to rub your thighs and alleviate the feeling. But you remembered where you were, in the middle of the grocery store and Jungkook still stood right before you. Nevertheless, you tried to ignore the wetness pooling between your legs; dampening your panties.

“I practically poured out all of the basic details of my boring life. I think you owe me at least something about you.”

“There’s not much to tell,” you shrugged, “but I work at the movie theater down the street if that piques your interest at all.”

“It does. I love movies.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you there before.”

“Well, if I’m honest I haven’t gone in a long time but that’s only because work and school keep me pretty busy.”

The lust streaming through your body doubled to make your heart beat with fondness and you grew endeared in the way Jungkook’s eyes lit up when he talked about his aspirations to become a baker.

“You’ll have a free ticket waiting for you whenever your schedule clears up.”

“Promise you’ll join me when I decide to go.” His words carved themselves into your brain like a permanent tattoo, just as those decorating his arm. The fluttering feeling in your abdomen heightened as a result of the dithers, without being aware of it, that is the effect Jungkook had on you.

“As long as it’s on a Tuesday or Friday.”

“Deal.”

“I’ll see you around, Jungkook.”

“See you, neighbor.”

Thursday was the worst day of the week so far.

Technically you were supposed to be at work, it was already 4:00PM, but instead you were still home. Even just sitting down in the muggy atmosphere of your in the miniscule space, you were doused, staining your clothes with sweat.

You were not willingly suffering at the lack of mercy the scorching weather subjected the city and everyone in it to, unfortunately the power had gone out. And while usually you had the luxury of a fan to cool down, today you had nothing.

Your windows and front door were left wide open in an attempt to cool down the place and still you felt as if you were sitting inside a fucking oven set to hightest temperature. There was no use.

“Neighbor.” Jungkook called out lightly knocking on the opened door.

Jungkook? Not Jungkook again when you looked like an absolute wreck.

“Hey Jungkook,” he stood at the door frame, a wide grin painted on his lips—he held a to-go box in his hands, “you can come in.”

“Do you want me to shut the door?”

“Sure,” you gave in, it’s not like it was actually doing anything. Besides, the last thing you needed was one of the crazy residents from the lower floors coming to bug you.

Jungkook took a seat next to you on the couch, he wore a sleeveless top exposing all of the ink embellishing his skin, every line, every curve, every word was so intricate and seemed so unique to him.

“I didn’t know you had these many tattoos,” a small fib was a price to pay to not seem like a weirdo, “did any of them hurt?”

“Some did,” he pointed at his tricep, “mainly these and a few others but I have a high pain tolerance.”

“Well, they’re beautiful,” you scanned his arm some more. It was truly like a mural embodying the beauty of art, “were you a singer?” you signaled at the microphone sitting on his forearm.

“I guess you could say that,” he adjusted himself on the couch, his nylon shorts rode up his thighs and you just hoped he wouldn’t notice the way your eyes glanced down constantly. Jungkook didn’t notice though, he was too busy averting eye contact and scratching the back of his head, “My highschool friends and I used to make music. We recorded a mixtape.”

“I need a link to this mixtape. . like now,” You laughed hysterically.

“Oh no, you don’t.”

“Ok, ok,” Again, another surprise from the man you thought you had all figured out—every single day he surprised you more and more, “were you like a vocalist or a rapper?”

“Vocals mostly. I did try rapping once though but I sucked so badly they scratched it off the track.”

“At least they were honest and didn't let you crash and burn in public.”

“You should’ve seen me though. I thought I was the shit.”

Jungkooks giggles were everlasting as he recounted the many times their parents grew exhausted of kicking them out of their garages for their disturbances in the making of their great musical legacy.. He filled the room with vibrance. The longer you sat in the presence of Jungkook the more you were exposed to the colors that made Jungkook, Jungkook. Of course, you were intrigued by the phosphorescent hues allowing them to inch you closer in his direction. Wanting him to spare no details in the adventure of his life.

“What’s that?” you pointed at the packaging box beside him on the arm rest.

“Brownies,” he handed you the box, “I saw you eyeing them when you were at the bakery but you didn’t buy any. So, I figured I would bring you some.”

In your mind, this was his way of saying he was thinking about you—that’s what you chose to believe anyway.

“You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to. Besides, I wanna see what you think of my baking.” Jungkook’s eyes were bigger than usual behind his specs, he fidgeted with the hem of his shorts.

If only he knew, the actual taste of the brownies would hold no significance in your criticism. You would love them anyway simply because they came from him.

“How about we have one together?”

“Yeah?”

You nodded, “let’s go to my room. There’s two windows in there and I’m literally about to pass out from heat stroke out here.”

The two of you sat by each one of the windows, the box of his remaining six hand crafted sweet delicacies sat between the two of you on the nightstand.

“You ready?”

“Yes.”

“1, 2,” the two of you held the chocolaty dessert up to your mouth, “3.”

Even after just one bite your taste buds were enamored.

“What do you think?”

“They’re amazing, Jungkook. You’re an amazing baker.”

“You can call me Kookie, you know.”

You nearly choked after taking another bite, hurdling into a coughing spiral, “that’s so fitting. Kookie the pastry chef.”

“Forget I said it,” he shook his head, laughing.

“Wait, no,” you loved the soft tint of pink dusting his cheeks, “that could be the name of your future shop.”

“Kookie’s Cookies.”

“Kookie’s Cookies,” you confirmed, “and I wanna be credited for the idea too.”

“Better yet, you’ll be my business partner.”

“That’s not a good idea. I’ll eat everything and you’ll just end up bankrupt,” your eyes were set on the congested sidewalks outside your window—everyone was out likely catching a break from their scorching apartments but here you were melting away all at the expense of being in Jungkook’s company just for a bit longer.

“I wouldn’t mind as long as you’re with me.”

Those eight words sent your mind into a spiral, head first into the rabbit hole of your fantasies. You couldn’t really make out if he truly meant what you thought he meant.

“Jungkook. .”

“I mean it.”

“Please don’t make me believe there could actually be something here,” Your voice was low and your thoughts were a scribbled mess. There was not a single coherency in your being at that point in time.

“I’m not lying,” your name tasted saccharine on his tinted lips—much like the brownie he had baked for you, “I like you.”

“Jungkook. .” was all you could muster.

“I’ve liked you from the moment you moved into the building.”

A single strike of thunder traveled down your spinal cord, you felt paralyzed in that moment and his sweet sweet words just continued looping inside the walls of your skull.

You were malfunctioning; shocked.

It’s astonishing how oblivious and just plain stupid human nature can make a person. For the past months, you had concealed the schoolgirl crush you developed on Jungkook and convinced yourself that there was absolutely no way in hell he could like you back.

Your insecurities had deceived you and now you sit here after so long with a thumping beat in your heart, giddy with excitement and lowkey wanting to slap yourself for not having noticed earlier.

“You like me?”

Obviously, he just fucking said that. He nodded.

“I like you, too.” You finally said out loud.

The temperature continued to rise in the small bedroom and between the two of you the heat became unbearable. With each passing second, you could feel the streamline trickles of your sweat cascading down your temples; your entire body matter of fact.

If eyes were the windows to the soul then Jungkook’s chocolate gaze was compelling.

And they were calling out for you so loudly.

“What happens now?” He pushed his glasses up to the bridge of his nose.

“Can I kiss you, Jungkook?”

You caught on to Jungkook’s mannerisms and body language rather quickly within the past hour. For example, he was pretty straight forward with his words yet whenever he spoke his fingers fidgeted with a random object as a distraction, this time it was the black beaded bracelet sitting on his wrist.

He nodded yet again.

Your heaven resided in the comfort of Jungkook’s thighs. You realized it the moment you straddled him. The rich smell of sandalwood was a scent unique to him, so earthy and rich. It was the only thing you ever wanted to smell for the remainder of your time on earth.

After raking your hands through his soft hair you tugged at it a bit, guiding his face up towards you.

“If you want anything from me. You’re gonna have to use your words, Jungkook.”

“You know what I want,” his eyes traced the corners of your lips down to the intricate details, “just kiss me, please.”

There are an abundance of perfect scenarios in life. For one there was the idyllic scene of snowfall on Christmas day; the legendary creamy combination of cookies and cream; then, there was the way your lips danced against Jungkooks, composing a choreography so intricate and beautiful only the two of you could execute it.

You were in a haze, entirely stupefied and addicted to his soft and warm lips. Then, his hands snaked around your waist as he guided you back and forth on his lap. His covered erection rubbed against your clothed slit in a pace so slow, it was agonizing yet delectable. Jungkook pulled away, continuing to lead your movements against him. Your mouth remained agape and you couldn’t help the sounds escaping your lips.

You wanted to pinch yourself, you’d only ever dreamt of this. Was this all a fabrication of your dreams? You hope it wasn’t, it felt so good.

“God, I’ve always wanted to have you like this.” His voice was husk and he spoke in between grunts.

If today was dictated as your last day on earth, you’d die being the happiest woman.

His warm breath fanned your sweaty neck. A tickle ran down your back but you focused on the knot forming at your abdomen.

“I’m so close.”

“Let go for me.”

His commands were sweet like candy and the utters of his guidance to have you crumble on his lap were all you needed to send you over the edge.

“You were so good for me, darling.”

“Call me that forever.” Your knees were sore, your voice was hoarse and you were sweltered from head to toe but you craved more, you grew wetter just imagining what else could arise from this encounter.

“Darling?” You nodded. “Jungkook?” He hummed lightly, opening his eyes and lifting his head from where it rested on the wall.

“Are you tired?”

“I just had a long day yesterday.”

“Can I help you unwind?” your lower lip now tucked under your teeth, “can I touch you?”

“Please.”

Your hands tucked under the hemline of his shorts and underwear. The way you illustrated Jungkook in your dreams was close to what you would imagine a modern Greek God to look like and you quickly realized that was the case when his shirt lifted revealing that he should be the one on display in museums instead of those silly little statues.

Your chin rested on his shoulder, while your hand moved up and down the length of his cock. You couldn’t see it, not yet. But he felt so big in your palm.

The hushed moans and curses leaving him fueled you to maintain at the same pace. Your lips found themselves leaving wet kisses on his already dampened neck.

“Please—please don’t stop,” He was a stuttering mess, his hand was gripping the window still so tightly his knuckles turned white. Hypnotized by arousal Jungkook began meeting your movements, enraptured by his desire for release.

“You’re not being a very good boy, Jungkook,” you whispered in his ear, “besides I thought you were tired.”

“I’ll—I’ll be so good I promise,” he continued fucking himself into your hand.

Jungkook whined as soon as you released his cock from your grip. Instead you tucked off the pesky fabrics covering his lower half, with his help of course, your theories were proven to be correct. Jungkook, your hot neighbor with piercings and tattoos also had a pussy destroyer in between his legs because of course he did.

“There’s only two rules baby.”

“What are the rules?”

“You have to keep your hands to yourself and no coming until I say so. You got it?”

“Yes, darling.”

Opening the last drawer on your night stand you pulled out one of your vibrators and held it up for him to see, “is it ok if we use this?”

“Mhm.”

You shoved it in your pocket for later.

Taking him into your mouth, you began swirling your tongue in circular motions around the head of his cock. His labored pants were hushed and almost inaudible, you would’ve missed them if the two of you weren’t in complete silence.

Licking up and down his shaft you focused on pressing your tongue on the tip, as your hands began working, pumping him where your mouth couldn’t reach. You bobbed your head up and down occasionally, allowing the head of his cock pop in and out of your mouth. Slurp noises began invading the atmosphere around the two of you along with his whimpers. Your pace was fast and there were traces of your saliva coating his length entirely.

“Fuck darling,” his hands were reaching to grasp anything in his path but instead he ended up knocking everything off your night stand. “Y-Your lips were made to be around my cock. You know that?”

Jungkook’s praises were treats for your ego and you made sure to devour them in their entirety. He was a pleasant mess; his hair stuck out in all directions while his lips were swollen and vibrant with a scarlet hue as he kept biting down on them harshly. His glasses were slightly fogged and there were traces of saliva sitting on the corner of his mouth. All you wanted was to continue seeing him lose himself at your mercy.

You reached into your pocket and turned on the palm sized stimulator—you placed it against his balls before hitting the on button, setting off its vibrations. His head fell back and his hips buckled forward, causing you to gag around the majority of cock.

“I’m gonna come,” he cried out.

If anyone would’ve told you having Jungkook’s dick in your mouth would be this heavenly, you would live on your knees in front of him forever. Pleasuring him at every hour of every day but today you had different plans and once again he let out frustrated whimpers as you removed your mouth from around him.

“No—no, darling you’re fucking killing me. I need to come now,” he sounded desperate, “It hurts so bad. I need to come.”

“Don’t worry baby. We’re getting right to that,” you placed a kiss on his forehead.

“Did you bring any condoms?”

He shook his head, “I wasn’t exactly expecting things to go down this route.”

“Are you. .?”

“I’m clean. Are you?”

“I am.”

There was a timid breeze coming in through the opened window, it was enough to cool you down just a bit, well as cool as you could be without a fan.

Bouncing on Jungkook’s dick was even better than having him in your mouth. Sure, you loved the way he became a stuttering mess with the teasing of your tongue but having him deep inside of you, you felt like you were in your own heaven. On a deserted island somewhere with nothing but the swift breeze coming from the palm trees and his touch on your skin.

“You take me so well,” he whispered in your ear but you were too busy consumed by your own pleasure. Hyper focused on the way his hands dug into your waist; the way he swiftly pushed his cock in and out of you.

The sounds of your skin slapping against his blared through the room, as well as your profanities and his words of praise just as before.

Your nails dug into his shoulder as you felt a build up of tension tightening in the pit of your stomach, causing you to arch your back. Seemingly, the way you clenched around Jungkook he seemed to have noticed you were extremely close.

“Come for me darling,” with each word he buried his dick deeper into you.

It was a blissful paradise painted on the back of your eyelids as Jungkook continued to mold your insides with his dick, he was careful but rammed into you with such force, your voice was strained and you couldn’t hold it any longer. You finally came as sights of the beeming sun behind your closed eyes blinded you entirely.

“Come inside of me,” you managed; even more sweaty than how you began, absolutely tired and completely out of breath.

He chanted strings of your name as finally filled you up.

“Please come over more often and bring all of your brownies with you,” you were pressed up against him as he hugged your waist, placing a soft kiss on your head.

“How about we begin by going to that movie tomorrow?” It was so funny to you how Jungkook had practically just split you in two and now he was back to being soft spoken.

“It’s a date.”

It was now Friday, the power was finally back on around the city and Jungkook followed through on his plans to take you to the movies. The only problem was when you approached the theater you spotted your nosey landlord standing in line right beside Namjoon. “Before you say anything, Seokjin. Please just shut the fuck up.”

“You always think the worse of me,” he placed his hand on his chest, “all I was going to say is my Cupid’s bow is to thank for the two of you finally getting together.”

“In that case, thank you Seokjin,” Jungkook said.

“Don’t thank him.”

“Actually, please do. But the next time yall fuck in my building please keep it down. Just like the walls, the floors are also thin and the fifth floor did not appreciate your day of passion.”

“Seokjin, please go back to your own date,” you hissed, hoping no one else in line heard his little rant, “pretend we’re not here.”

Jungkook’s shame sat in his now red tinted cheeks, you peppered kisses on them to ease him.

“See, they can’t even keep their hands to themselves in public,” you heard Seokjin whisper.

This is going to be an interesting date.

a/n: this was pretty fun to write but supposed to be out on my birthday a couple days ago but i couldn’t meet the deadline sadly but please enjoy and disregard the smut scene if it’s bad. I tried lol my brain just wasn’t working 100%.

thanks for reading. comments, likes, reblogs and messages are always appreciated. let me know what you think ;)

#bts #bts smut #bts imagines #bts reactions #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook drabble #very brief mention of seokjin x namjoon #bangtan sonyeondan #jungkook x you #bts jungkook smut

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bump1nthen1ght · 7 months

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A Very Monstrous Kinktober: Day 9 (Glory Hole)

Kink: Glory Hole

Pairing: M!Minotaur x GN!Reader

Other Kinks: Deepthroating, Cum Swallowing

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 1174 words

Kinktober Masterlist

Good thinking to bring a pillow.

It’s the first thought you have, stepping into the booth. The cheap shag carpet is deceptively uncomfortable, recently vacuumed and cleaned, but clearly haphazardly thrown over some concrete. You could only imagine the state of your knees if you hand’t brought something from home

You set up in front of the hole, marveling at the circumference of it. The company that set up these discreet meet ups had promised privacy, but you’re pretty sure even with a cock through it you would be able to peer through the other side. It’s as big as if you made a circle with your own two hands, surely that’s an oversight-

You hear the door open on the side of the hole, pulling your face back from the opening and adjusting yourself. There's the sounds of shuffling on the other side, including the undoing of a belt and the clopping of hooves.

All you know of your partner is that he’s a minotaur. You weren’t sure why they had disclosed it to you, but a secretary had implied it was so you sort of knew what to expect. Given that you had never slept with a minotaur before, it really didn’t tell you much.

“Um, is anyone there?” A sweet, country voice asks through the wall. The voice is deep but airy, surprisingly polite for the situation you are in.

“Yep, I’m here.” You wave to no one. “Nice to meet you.”

“Oh! Uh-h, nice to meet you too.” The twang in his voice is adorable and in your mind's eye you imagine a bashful man, with shaggy fur and big horns. “So, do we just get..started?”

“I think so.” You giggle. “I’m all ready if you are,” you drop your voice to a lulling purr, “-big boy.”

The shuddering breath behind the wall is, the sounds of jeans being hastily pushed off tells you that you succeeded in setting the mood. Good, you had been a little nervous yourself, but wanted to help the guy along. You wiggle your hips excitedly, nails digging into the palms of your hand. Drool has already begun collecting in your mouth, the thought of dick sending a tingle down your spine.

But even those horny imaginations couldn’t have prepared you for the enormous cock that comes through the hole.

You gape at it, noticing it was just thick enough to comfortably fit through. From an eyeball approximation it was about 9 inches long, a square-shaped head already beading with precum. It stops just before hitting your nose.

“Wow.” You involuntarily whisper, quickly squirting lube into your palms as you stare at the beast. “Your dick is huge.”

“R-really?” That shy voice perks up. “Thank you.”

Your fascination makes you bold, your lubed up hand quickly grabbing the base of his cock. A yelp can be heard from behind the while, his dick twitching in your grip. That bead of precum drips down, gliding back down his shaft.

You lick your lips, already feeling a pleasant burn stoke in the pit of your stomach.

One hand isn’t big enough to wrap around his shaft, but you grip your fingers tight and slowly stroke the first 2 inches out of the glory hole. You hear another shuddering sigh, blood pulsing under your palm.

Holy shit, he isn’t even fully hard yet.

You stare in awe as the cock stiffens in your grip. The sound of lube squelches as you slowly jerk his cock up and down, admiring the thick veins that run underneath. The heavy breaths of your minotaur partner are quick and full of whines. You can imagine him with his hips pressed up against the wall, maybe even resting his palms on it.

“Fuck.” That sweet voice moans. It makes you smile, your abdomen clenching as more precum gushes from his slit.

You wrap your other hand around the shaft, not only to help you stroke but to stabilize yourself as you press your lips against his shiny head. The cock twitches again, the flat of your tongue licking up the slit. You emphasize a moan, hoping he hears it through the wall, thinks of it like you do his.

I’m gonna make you feel good, big guy.

You open your mouth wide and begin slowly deepthroating him. The girth is already enough to fill your mouth, not leaving much room for you to lather your tongue across the skin as you go down. But you try anyway, encouraged by his sweet words and even sweeter cum.

“S-shit, that feels amazing.”

“F-fuck. Your mouth is..incredible.”

“How are you doing that?”

You pat yourself on the back, having gotten a full six inches into your mouth before reaching your limit. Tears bubble at the sides of your eyes, but the pulsing in your lower half makes it so worth it. You continue stroking his first couple of inches, speeding up as you let him just rest in your mouth. You can feel his cock throbbing inside, can imagine your cute minotaur biting his lip with every faltered groan.

It's then that you start licking your tongue up and down, bobbing your throat at a comfortable speed. The noises the minotaur makes are heavenly in response, a deep throated groan and a muttered “Holy shit.”

“I w-wish I could see you.” The minotaur stutters, southern twang now rough and raspy. “Bet you look so cute, mouth full of my-” He takes in another deep breath, “-cock.” He all but gasps. You had pulled back till only the first 2 inches remained and then shoved yourself down. A tease he clearly enjoyed.

You agree, you wish you could see what facial expressions he was making. You bet they were adorable.

“I’m close.” He whispers. You had ascertained, given the way he had begun matching your pace with tiny throst of his own, stll polite enough to not fully face fuck you. “C-can I come in your mouth?” You nod, hoping he can feel it through his cock. You think you can hear him mutter a “Thank you” almost to himself.

You help him chase his high, jerking him off with a fast pace and sloppily lapping your tongue around his shaft. His head pounds against the end of your throat, enough that full tears track down your face.

“Fuck!” The minotaur shouts, your last warning before he unloads into your mouth. Hot sprts shoot down your throat, enough to fill your mouth. Streams of it leak out between your lips, his cock pulsing for at least 15 seconds.

You pull off with a pop, emphasizing the swallowing sound of the near quart of cum he poured into your mouth.

The two of you pant, you're sure he rests his head against the wall.

That knot is still tied tight in your gut, when your phone dings.

It's the company you purchased through. Apparently, if both parties consented, they offer a discount for one of their shared rooms to meet up.

No hesitation, you press ‘yes’

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

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lokis-army-77 · 8 months

Text

Live from Hawkins: Round Two

Older!Eddie Munson x female reader x Older!Steve Harrington

Word Count: 3.6k

What was steve doing when you and his friend were acidently fimling yourselves and why does he want to join in?

Warning: 18+. Eddie and Steve are in their late 50s to early 60s, reader is 20s to early 30s. p in v, oral (f and m receiving), dirty talk, sir kink, pet names, fingering, double penatration, masturbation, exobitonism?, voryerism?.

Masterlist Part 1

It's almost ten p.m. when Steve's phone buzzes and a notification lights up the screen. He grabs it off the bedside table and places his book down on the bed beside him.

The small notification box read:

EDDIE MUNSON IS LIVE

Steve clicked on the screen puzzled. What the hell is he doing at this time of night? Steve asked himself as he typed in his phone's password. It only took a second for the live stream to load and what Steve saw had his face blooming with heat.

Eddie was lying across his king-size bed, head buried between the legs of some young, sweet-sounding thing. Steve stared she couldn't have been older than twenty-two.

He couldn't keep his eyes off them as they panted and groaned. The show they were unknowingly giving had Steve's cock straining in his pajama pants.

A small speck of guilt hit him when he cupped himself. He should call Eddie, tell him to turn the live off. It wasn’t just him watching this, the viewers piled in, hitting somewhere in the thousands.

Eddie wasn't just some unknown guy, he had once been part of a successful band in the 90s and now a producer in the rock scene. People knew him and this would be front-page news by the morning. Yet Steve pushed down that guilt and slipped his hand past the elastic waistband of his pants.

Your moans coming through the speaker of his phone egged him on as he fisted his cock. He let out a sputtered breath, slowly moving his thumb over the head, smearing the bead of pre cum around. Never had his best friend turned him on this much. Not even when they had their little experimental phase before Eddie had gotten married or those one-off nights several years after Eddie's wife had died.

No, never had Eddie gotten Steve all torn up. But add you to the mix and Steve was just about ready to cum and he had barely begun to touch himself.

Steve continued to watch, eyes half-lidded and full of lust. His fingers stroked up and down, up and down, pulling sinful sounds out of him. The way your body moved in response to Eddie had Steve fumbling.

"Fuck, baby, feels so good." He mumbled to himself, his hips kicking up in his grip. He was so close.

His vision became tunneled as he continued to fuck his hand. Hard and fast were his strokes. His focus was shot, he no longer watched his phone, and the obscene noises coming from it also faded into the background. Steve had a one-track mind now and it was all for his own pleasure.

His other hand dropped the phone and came to cup his balls. He let out a choked gasp at the feeling of both his hands.

"Fuck fuck fuck, I'm gonna... ahh fuck!" Steve was at his limit. Cock hard and balls straining he cried out into the open air of his home. His release sprung forth, coating his chest in sticky spend. It dribbled out of him and pooled on his abdomen.

Steve's breathing was staggered, shallow, and fast and he worked himself to overstimulation. He jerked against his sheets and then finally let go of his cock, heaving.

He made a face when he looked down to see the mess he had made of his stomach. Carefully he reached over to his bedside table and grabbed the box of Kleenex. Taking a handful he wiped himself down and threw the soiled squares to the side, a mess for him to clean up tomorrow.

With his eyes closed he listened to his heartbeat thumping in his ears. He was calming down. And in an instant the post-nut clarity rushed in and Steve scrambled for his phone. You were both finished, lying, spent, on Eddie's bed. So Steve exited the live and called his friend.

The first call was answered by voicemail but the second went through.

Eddie huffed into the receiver at the interruption and Steve informed him, not-so-nicely of what was happening.

…

Days passed and Steve couldn't get the thought of you or Eddie out of his head. He'd tried everything from cold showers when the thoughts hit, to thinking of the most non-boner inducing things he could conjure up in his head. But his mind was wicked and he needed the both of you.

He was so thankful when the next Friday rolled around and he met Eddie for lunch. Eddie couldn't stop gushing about you. How he was so glad you could find the humor in his accidental livestream, and thank God your face hadn't been shown clearly in the dim light of the room. He even expressed that you had agreed to see "an old man like himself" again that coming Saturday.

It was then that Steve knew he would do everything in his power to get in on a night with you and Eddie.

After your Saturday dinner with Eddie the next day Steve showed up at his house. Eddie recounted the hell of a time he had with you. How you'd beg for him and ask so politely for things he wasn't even sure his old bones could do anymore. How he loved the chance to be dominant in the bedroom again. You were a vixen, a succubus and he was completely enthralled.

Then, Steve asked, "Do you think she'd like a third?"

Eddie had stopped in his tracks, mouth open wide before a devious smile fixed itself onto his face.

"Oh, Stevie boy, are you asking what I think you are?"

Steve couldn't help the fierce blush that came to his cheeks. "I-I- uh…" He stuttered. Eddie just smiled and hit Steve's knee with the back of his hand.

"I'm teasing, you always get so flustered." He laughed. "But sure, I'll ask her."

…

When Eddie had broached the subject of inviting his friend Steve into the bedroom, you were hesitant, but then Eddie showed you pictures of the man. He was stunning, hair cut short and graying just like Eddie's. A short beard and tan freckled skin. He looked fit, his arms bulged under the sleeves of his button-up shirt, thighs much the same in those black slacks.

You licked your lips and pressed your legs together. Looking at Eddie wide-eyed you nodded.

“What’s that baby? Need you to say it,” He tutted, swiping a piece of hair behind your ear, fingers grazing your cheek.

“Want your friend to join us, please."

And just like that, Steve's fantasy was coming true.

…

Steve was freshly home from work, exhausted, and in need of a large black coffee even though it was closing in on 6:30 at night. He had just started to unbutton the light blue button-up when his phone rang. Taking it from his pocket, he answered with a swipe of his thumb.

“Yeah?” He asked.

“Steve, It’s me.” Eddie’s gruff voice filtered in through the speaker.

“Oh, hey man. What’s up?” Steve held the phone between his shoulder and ear, fingers starting on the buttons again.

“I know it’s short notice but do you want to come over?”

Steve sighed and looked at his alarm clock. “Uh, I don’t know Eds, it's almost seven.”

There was some shuffling on the other end and a muffled reply from Eddie, only it wasn’t to him, it was to you. “Well, did ya hear that, Sweetheart? Old man Steve can’t come tonight.”

Steve’s heart skipped. “Woah woah woah woah. Hold on a second… She’s there?”

“Yep, Stevie boy, she's here all right, watin’ on you. Isn’t that right, Sugar?”

He hears more shuffling and then a soft, sultry voice. “Yeah, Steve, need you here.” You giggled as Eddie pulled the phone away from you.

“Hurry up and get over here, front door’s unlocked.” And with that, Eddie hung up.

Steve cranked himself into high gear, unbuttoning his shirt and grabbing his keys from the dresser. No less than five traffic violations were committed as he sped to Eddie’s with one thing on his mind. You.

When Steve arrived at Eddie’s, you could hear him rushing into the house and quickly making his way to the bedroom where you were already undressed and lounging on the king-sized bed. As soon as the phone call had ended, Eddie had ordered you to rid yourself of his shirt and your underwear, saying he wanted you all nice and pretty for when Steve got there.

Steve entered the room with a grin on his face which slowly faded once he saw you laid out for him.

Goosebumps covered your flesh, the room was cold and the two pairs of eyes scouring your body didn’t help.

“Hi, Steve.” You lifted a hand and waved languidly at him. He gulped and looked over at Eddie.

“She said hi, don’t be rude, say hello back.”

Steve straightened, coming back to himself. “Hi, Babydoll.”

You smiled a toothy smile and squirmed on the bed, hair flaring out around your head. Steve took a step closer to you only to be stopped by Eddie clearing his throat. “Before we start… we talked it over, and Steve, we won’t do it if you aren’t okay with it.” Steve looked at his friend with a little bit of fear as to what he was going to suggest. “But, this one,” he pointed at you and shook his head. “This one said, after the fact, that she liked knowing people had watched us. So how about we film this? She said faces can be blurred, names can be cut out…” Eddie trails off.

Steve looks between the two of you and he can’t believe he says it but it comes out strong. “Okay.”

“Okay?” You and Eddie ask in surprise.

He shrugs, “I mean if they really won’t be able to see my face.”

Eddie stands and claps Steve on the back. “Glad to see you’re up for it, Stevie.” He grabs his phone and holds it out toward you. “Baby, do you mind figuring out the camera?”

You huff, grab the phone from his hand and expertly navigate to the camera. Setting the video to record after selecting a ten-second delay. You hand it back to Eddie, telling him to prop it up on the dresser, back camera facing the bed.

Once the recording starts you lay back on the bed and wait patiently for the two men. Eddie moves around to the side closest to your head and he leans down, lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“Wanna let Steve taste you, Sweetheart?” Eddie asks. You nod only for him to tsk, “Use your words, baby.”

“Yes, please I want him to.”

“Then ask him, baby.”

You look at Steve as he watches you with wide eyes, his tongue slowly swiping across his bottom lip. “Steve?”

“Yeah, Babydoll?” He answers.

“Will you please eat me out?”

Steve loses his breath at your question but beams all the same. “Sure I will, baby.” He begins his crawl up the bed to your legs. His hands are softer than Eddie’s as you feel them running over your skin. There are no callouses from years of playing guitar, just smooth palms and fingertips tickling you with how lightly they touch you. “Open wide for me, love.”

You do as he says, spreading your legs to accommodate his wide shoulders. You let your upper body relax into the mattress, soft sighs come from you as Steve's hands continue to rub at you. Your heart is beating in anticipation and as soon as you close your eyes you feel a short, wet lick going up your slit.

"Ah.. Steve," you gasp. Your hands immediately reach out to grip his hair to which he responds by pulling away.

"Eddie, why don't you keep her hands occupied and out of my hair." He pulls your hands away from him and waits for Eddie to grab hold of them before settling back between your thighs.

Eddie complies, taking your hands and raising them above your head and resting them on the tops of his thighs. "Keep your hands right here, baby, don't wanna see you move 'em," he instructs. "Now tell Steve you're sorry for messing up his hair."

You pout and dig your fingers into Eddie's jeans when Steve's tongue flicks at your clit. "I'm sorry for putting my hands in your hair, Stevie."

Steve's kitten links to your clit stop and he looks up through thick eyelashes. "Fuck… baby." He groans before diving back into you. This time his licks aren't slow. They're fast and strong and almost too much as he only shows attention to your clit.

Behind you, Eddie unzips his jeans and begins to pull himself from them. He taps your cheek with his hand and speaks your name. "Open that pretty mouth for me," he says.

You feel yourself getting impossibly wetter at the sight of his cock inches from you. Opening your mouth, you stick your tongue out for good measure.

Eddie groans as he pushes himself into you. "Such a good girl for me. My cock taste good, sugar?"

You hum around him, the tangy taste of his precum spreading throughout your mouth. He let you suck on him as best you could before he began thrusting in and out gently.

Meanwhile, Steve had begun fucking your entrance with two fingers. He had you squirming underneath him, hips bucking at the sensations.

It was hard to focus on any one feeling, on either of the two men. As Eddie fucked your mouth and Steve your pussy, your body filled with pleasure. Your legs widened for Steve, walls clenching down around his fingers as he pressed them up over and over again into a sensitive spot. Your throat relaxed and your head fell over the side of the bed letting Eddie's cock delve deeper and deeper into you.

With your mouth full you can’t tell them you’re close, but Steve can tell. You’ve got his fingers in a vice-like grip and he can see the cool sweat that's broken out all over you. He laps up your wetness and begins to suck on your clit.

You let out muffled moans and gagging breaths before pushing Eddie away. Your arms stung with the ache of holding onto his thighs for so long. “Fuck!” you cry out, gasping for air as your body begins to twitch, orgasm coming on fast.

Steve pulls away just far enough to speak. “Gonna cum, Babydoll? Gonna cum all for us?”

“Yeah, gonna cum,” you heave, chest rising and falling fast.

“Then ask.” Eddie’s voice is deep and booming behind you.

“Please Sir, Steve, can I cum?” you ask.

They both take the time to look at one another and Eddie shrugs, leaving Steve to decide.

“Go ahead, baby.” Steve smiles and kicks up the pace of his fingers while his other hand comes to massage your clit.

Eddie’s hands are also on you in a second, pulling and pinching at your nipples. The sensations are too much to handle, your back arches off the bed and your muscles go rigid as you cum hard. Wet sounds fill the room as Steve keeps plunging his fingers in and out.

“Cumming! I’m fucking cumming!” you cry, legs snapping shut around Steve as your body shook.

“Good girl,” they both praise.

Steve took his hand from between your legs and brought his soaked fingers up to his mouth, licking them. Before he could clean them completely, Eddie took Steve’s hand and brought it to his own mouth. He hummed at the taste of you.

“You always taste so sweet, sugar.” He hums.

You watch, eyes half-lidded, as Steve moves to sit in the middle of the bed, back pressed against the headboard. Eddie rakes his fingers in your hair then grabs your shoulders, helping to sit you up.

He gives you soft kisses over your face before asking, “Gonna let us fuck you now, baby?”

“Yes, sir. Wanna feel you both.”

“Is that right, Babydoll? Want us to stretch you open?” Steve reaches his hand out, catching your ankle and rubbing circles into the skin with his thumb.

“Please.” You pull your foot away from him only to then crawl his way. Steve guides your legs over his. He’s still in his slacks, cock aching to be released. The heat your body lets off above him only adds to his discomfort.

“God, need these fucking things off.” He growls hands coming down between the two of you only for you to push them away.

“I’ll get it.” You respond in a sultry tone. Nimble fingers flick the button of his pants open and with how much he’s tented against the zipper it almost flies down by itself.

Eddie moves up the bed behind you. Pants and boxers now discarded. His warm palms traverse the smooth expanse of your back and hips, his fingers grip at your ass. He looks over your shoulder and chuckles, "Still as big as ever aren't you, Stevie?"

Steve's cock is massive in your hands. Slowly you begin to move up and down his length, spreading the milky, translucent spend over his tip. He groans, hips bucking into your hands.

"Quit teasing baby. Need to be inside you." Steve tuts.

You wriggle in his lap before going up onto your knees. Steve scoots down a bit and his cock aligns with your entrance. You keep him straight as you slowly sink down on him. His girth stretches you further than you've ever experienced. Air is sucked in through your teeth as you whine, head falling forward to his shoulder.

"I know, baby, I know." He coos.

Behind you, Eddie still has his hands over you, helping you move steadily to the base of his friend.

If Steve was pushing you to your limit now, you couldn't begin to imagine what it would feel like to also have Eddie buried in your ass.

When the tip of Steve's cock met with the resistance of your cervix, you let out a long, low mewl. “Ah- Steve!”

“That’s right babydoll, say my name.” He grits out as Eddie helps you to up the pace of your hips.

“Steve!” You call out again, whimpering as you clench down around him.

His hand reaches for the back of your neck, pulling you in for a sloppy kiss. You slow your hips down to an almost halt and as you pull away from Steve you look back at Eddie. “Please,” you say to him. “Wanna feel you too.”

Eddie takes his time lining himself up with you, teasing your hole with the tip only to move away. He extends his hand between yours and Steve's faces. “Spit,” He commands and you both spit into his hand. He uses the saliva to wet himself and you before pressing in finally.

You gasp, chest falling into Steve as you are opened up. Eddie had only recently started fucking your ass, in preparation for this night, but him alone couldn’t amount to the feeling of both holes being filled by such massive cocks.

“Ah- fuck Sweetheart,” Eddie grunts. “Sucking me in aren't you?”

You nod erratically, “Yes, sir. Mmm, you both feel so good.”

Steve chuckles. “She says we feel good, Eds.”

“I know… She feels good too.” Eddie chokes out a moan, “I think I can feel you, Steve.”

“Fuck, me too.”

You think Steve is moving closer to you for a kiss but when you close your eyes and the kiss doesn't come, you open them again only to see him kissing Eddie. The sheer dominance Eddie was putting into the kiss had you clamping down around them, bringing forth long, deep groans from them both. You watched in awe as Eddie had his fingers twisted in the hair at Steve’s neck, pulling his head back. It opened him up for more teeth, more tongue, more everything. You would have thought it impossible to get even more wet, but this sight was what it took.

Eddie shoved Steve away gently and then connected his lips with your neck. Steve also began to pay attention to your body by latching onto one of your breasts. You begin to ride them both, hips rutting into each of them at a breakneck speed. It was almost too much.

With them both filling you up and their mouths sucking and licking over your skin, you cry out. You have no time to ask for permission to cum before you feel wetness erupting from between your legs.

Your head falls back onto Eddie’s shoulder, your chest heaves up and down as your breaths run ragged. The two men keep themselves buried deep within you, fucking you as you moan and cry with pleasure.

They’re both grunting as they push themselves into you, an animalistic sound that spurs the other on until you feel Steve let up. His rhythm becomes erratic and his grip on your skin like a vice. As he comes undone inside of you he lets out the most leg-clenching, giving you butterfly whimper you have ever heard.

Eddie is quick to follow, pumping you full and kissing you hard.

You all fall in a heap of sweaty, exhausted bodies. Someone’s lips find yours in the pile, even with your eyes closed you can tell it’s Steve, his facial hair being almost non-existent compared to Eddie’s beard. Your hand finds its way into his hair again and this time he lets you keep it there, tugging him in closer.

“Thank you for coming over.” You tell him between open-mouthed kisses.

Steve sighs. “No, thank you for letting me.”

“Right, well, I think I need a shower.” Eddie kissed down your shoulder before standing. “Who’s joining me?”

Excitedly, you scramble to your feet beside him and pull Steve to his.

This night was far from over if the two men had anything to do with it. Screw work and obligations. Screw going to bed at a decent time. You made them both feel young again and they were going to chase that until they physically couldn’t.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things smut #stranger things fic #female reader #older!eddie munson #steve harrington x reader #older!steve harrington #Steve harrington smut #steve harrington

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ridhearts · 1 year

Text

glittering like diamonds {misc.}

sometimes, the smallest acts of intimacy can get your heart racing (OR; they find your missing jewelry for you)

!! information !!

characters: riddle + jamil + rook + ruggie

reader: gn (”you” pronouns)

CW: none!

• • • • • • • Riddle Rosehearts

Dusk had fallen on the gardens of Heartslabyul, the only light coming from golden glows in lanterns with twisted poles and windows in frames of warped proportions. Riddle watched as the last of the hedgehogs scurried around and burned off their energy, darting through the single square of light sporadically like pink and blue missiles. The others were already tucked away in their cubbies, snoozing comfortably and ignorant to the ruckus of their rowdy friends. Watching the hedgehogs always calmed his nerves. Their cute faces, the sweet little noises they made, the ability to count and double count them to ensure those on hedgehog duty did their jobs correctly…it was all methodic and peaceful. A perfect way to end the day.

From inside the dorm, somebody must have moved from the window, allowing another stream of light to fall over the grass. Something glimmered and caught Riddle’s eye, the contrast between the mysterious object and the matte wire fencing surrounding the hedgehog pen quite noticeable in the light. Picking it up, he saw that a bracelet had been resting across the top of the wire fencing. Short three-link sections of gold chain connected many bright red rose beads about as large as the tip of his thumb. Upon further inspection, Riddle noticed that the claw end of the clasp was stuck. It took more than a few tries for him to finally push the latch and shut the clasp entirely. That must have been how it fell off.

Even if the hedgehog pens were a completely inappropriate place for jewelry, the fact that it matched the rose gardens did soothe his ire a small amount. Sighing, he stood and decided now was as good a time as any to head inside. The bracelet probably belonged to one of the members of his dorm. If he remembered correctly, you were also still in Heartslabyul, having been granted special permission to stay a while later than most guests in order to tutor your friends for an upcoming test. Perhaps, with your connections throughout the school, you would know the owner of the bracelet.

Just as Riddle walked through the main doors, he saw you walking down the stairs with your bag over your shoulder. Your hair was a bit messy and you were straightening out your uniform, which was a bit rumpled from a long day of studying (and undoubtedly other chaos that you managed to fall into). Riddle closed his hand around the bracelet, hoping to refrain from fussing with your uniform. As cute as you looked, it was unbecoming of you to walk all the way to Ramshackle looking so unkempt.

“Heading home, Prefect?” He asked. You looked up from your blazer and your eyes cleared, as if you had been in a haze.

“Yeah, we finally decided to call it a night,” You answered. Although he was unsure if he was deceiving himself, Riddle swore you descended the stairs a little bit faster as you walked towards him.

“Shall I expect stellar grades on this next alchemy exam?”

You grimaced. “You should expect Ace and Deuce to insist they tried their best.”

Riddle smiled at that. If only you could impart some of your pleasantness upon your friends. Still, you were clearly doing what you could. No matter what their grades came to be, the fault would only lie with them.

Noticing you were about to walk past him and leave, Riddle lifted a hand to stop you. “Ah, actually, before you go, do you happen to know to whom this belongs?”

The bracelet caught in the light as he held it up, appearing for a moment more yellow than rose gold. Instantly, your face lit up in recognition, and you held out your hand.

“Oh, that’s mine! I was wondering where it was,” you answered, shifting on your feet and smiling at him.

Riddle wasn’t sure what hit him. All he knew was that he was incredibly nervous when you were around, and his ability to remain calm in your vicinity the past few days was owed to his ability to rule on autopilot and sheer luck. That luck was running out, it seemed, because Riddle took a long look at your outstretched hand as if he didn’t know what to do with it. Then, carefully, he took the bracelet and looped it around your wrist.

His slim, gloved fingers brushed over the sensitive inside of your wrist as he slipped the clasp into one of the open links. You were suddenly thankful he wasn’t pressing down, certain that he’d be able to feel your heart racing through your pulse point. He must have forgotten about the broken clasp as he fiddled with it, eyebrows furrowing slightly. Sighing, he used one hand to keep the clasp in place and the other to grab your hand, gently pulling you closer so he could have a better angle. After a few more attempts, Riddle finally managed to shut the clasp with a faint click! Satisfied with his work, his expression softened and he grabbed your hand again, turning it over and admiring the bracelet.

“I’m sure Sam has clasps available at the Mystery Shop. You should be able to fix it with those and a pair of pliers,” he offered, looking up at you with a smile. All you could do was gape, watching him with wide eyes and a flushed face. “Is something wrong…?”

Your words got lost somewhere on the path from your brain to your mouth, so you let your gaze flicker down once. Riddle followed your instructions, looking down and realizing he was still holding your hand in his. Instantly, his face turned red enough to match his hair as his eyes darted from your joined hands to your face and back again. After a few moments, Riddle let go of your hand like it burned him, barely keeping himself from stammering.

“F-forgive me…” He started, taking one step back and then another. “Um. Make sure you get that fixed! In the hands of the wrong animal, it could spell serious trouble!”

Without offering you much of a chance to respond, Riddle hurried up the stairs beside you, mumbling something beneath his breath. However, halfway up the staircase he paused, turned, and looked at you still frozen in place. His face faded to a bright pink, even after he cleared his throat.

“And, of course…have a nice night, Prefect.”

• • • • • • • Ruggie Bucchi

Ruggie had an eye for valuable things. He knew to keep his eyes sharp for the glint of any lost or discarded objects that might prove to be of worth, even in the most unexpected places. People threw away lots of things when they could afford to follow trends, and they lost even more when they could afford to be careless. With the many rich boys he went to class with, he wasn’t surprised to see a shimmer kicked to the side of the hallways.

Scurrying in before some other vulture could stake a claim to his prize, Ruggie quickly bent down and swiped the thing that caught his eye. A few moments later, he grimaced. It clearly was some kind of cheaper metal and fake gems. Figures. Shrugging, he pocketed it and decided to run down a list of potential clients anyway. Surely there were a few suckers who didn’t know their fine jewelry from costume jewelry and would take the bait if he sold it hard enough…and went a little lower in price than what he was expecting.

After filtering back into the flow of students walking to their first class, Ruggie brushed at a faint tug on his uniform sleeve. Looking to the side, he grinned when he realized it was only you. Well, only wasn’t the right term - though he wouldn’t admit it, Ruggie considered himself quite fortunate to be on the receiving end of your highly-coveted attention.

“Morning,” You yawned. Drowsiness settled in on your features, and Ruggie felt his ears twitch in agitation.

“Woah, did Grim keep you up muttering about tuna again?” He asked. Even though your movements were just a bit slower than usual, your whole body tensed immediately at his words. Did you think you could hide from him? The thought would’ve been cute, if he wasn’t a little worried.

“No, nothing like that,” You admitted. “I lost something yesterday and I was out late looking for it. Then I was behind on my assignments…and that kept me up.” As if to accentuate your point, you yawned again.

“What did you lose? Maybe I could keep an eye out for it.”

“Would you?”

“Of course!” He protested, his offense only half a joke. It should be clear by now that he’d take care of you like he did himself…

Having reached the door to your morning class, you stopped. Ruggie did the same, ignoring how the people around him huffed and shot you both dirty looks for blocking the middle of the hallway. “So, it’s just a cheap little gold thing with brown gems in it. I wore it yesterday and noticed it missing after dinner, but it could’ve been gone for longer.”

Ruggie’s tail, which had been swishing happily behind him, suddenly stilled. You paid no attention to that and reached out to squeeze his arm before turning away. “It’s not a big deal if you can’t find it, but I appreciate the extra eyes.”

Before he could decide what to do, you slipped into your classroom.

The rest of the day, Ruggie spent his class time toying with the necklace that now seemed to be burning a hole in his pocket. It was just as you had described: inexpensive metal, the charm a bar lined with brown rhinestones. He wondered if you purchased the necklace because it reminded you of his dorm - that was the first thing that popped into his mind when he saw it. Or maybe you were just a fan of more earthy tones, or whatever Vil called them.

Part of him still wondered if he should try to sell it. Singling out a gullible guy looking for a quick gift for a sister or mother wouldn’t be too hard. You even said yourself that you wouldn’t mind if you couldn’t find it. Clearly, the necklace wasn’t anything too sentimental that you couldn’t bear to part with it. Surely you’d appreciate it if he found himself with a little extra pocket cash to take you on a date or something, right? But then again, you did spend a solid portion of your night trying to find it…

With a huff, Ruggie clutched his hand around the chain. He already knew his plans for profit were out the window when you mentioned what you were looking for. Even if it wasn’t something he was ready to admit, he was long beyond the point where he couldn’t imagine betraying you, even for an extra stash of cash.

As soon as his classes were over, Ruggie began the process of sniffing you out. He didn’t have to search for long - you were sitting on a bench in the courtyard, leaning one elbow on the armrest and supporting your drowsy head with it. Keeping his footfalls light, Ruggie snuck up behind you and didn’t make a noise until he was holding the necklace in front of your face.

You startled, but lifted your head so he could fasten the necklace around your neck anyway. The cool metal pressed against your neck, and before you could reach your hands up to help, Ruggie wordlessly brushed your hair away from the back of your neck. As he clasped the ends together, his fingers barely brushed against the back of your neck. Every little hair stood on end, and your whole body shivered. Part of you wondered if he was purposely teasing you, but it seemed unlikely, as he didn’t mention it.

Moving your hair back behind your shoulders, Ruggie finally said, “I found your necklace.”

“Thanks, Ruggie,” You answered, leaning your head back so you could see him. Maybe your upside-down perspective was making you see things, but you swore you could see his ears droop slightly as he got flustered. “I knew I could count on you.”

At that, Ruggie quickly averted his gaze. Oh, he was definitely flustered. “And I know I can count on you to compensate me for my services, yeah?”

…but he was still endearingly difficult, it seemed.

• • • • • • • Jamil Viper

For about the fiftieth time, Jamil wondered if he should say something.

You weren’t as slick as you thought you were. The entire time walking to the Mystery Shop, you kept reaching up and tugging at your earlobe, rubbing it and pressing against something like you were trying to alleviate some kind of pain. Perhaps others didn’t notice - not everyone in school was the observant type - but he was, and notice he did. It didn’t help that hanging from your ears was a shiny pair of earrings that caught the light every time you pushed them around.

It was a strange change that you decided to make, though Jamil had no doubt it was due to Vil’s newfound presence in your life after VDC. There had been many hours dedicated to the importance of appearance and accessorizing during their training camp, and you had the strange tendency to be everybody’s favorite pet project after they got to know you. The earrings had to be his idea, though it didn’t appear as if he actually supplied you with any to wear. Jamil found upon his first close inspection, earlier in the day, that the earrings were in fact clip-ons and barely more than costume jewelry that Vil wouldn’t be caught dead owning. Considering the open secret that was your financial situation, that made sense.

That didn’t mean that they weren’t eye-catching, however. The deep red stones, set loosely in a gold, drop-shaped frame, looked nice on you. Jamil couldn’t explain it, but he felt as if you deserved to be ornamented beautifully, if that’s what you wanted. Or maybe he just liked having an excuse to be caught looking.

He caught you raising your hand again and, before he could stop himself, reached out to block your hand from fiddling with the jewelry. When you glanced at him to ask what was wrong, he met your eyes with a scathing look that was practically a lecture in itself. “You don’t have to wear anything uncomfortable. Beauty isn’t really pain, no matter how convincing Vil may be.”

You laughed, letting him know he correctly guessed the heart of the situation. “I already bought them, though, so I should at least get my money’s worth.”

“Sunk cost fallacy,” Jamil responded in a deadpan manner. You matched his tone with your own flat expression, which he quickly relented to. “Alright, give them here. I might have a solution.”

Even though you looked at him dubiously, you reached up and removed the earrings, handing them off without question. Jamil looked at them carefully before nodding and patting his pockets. When he pulled out a small bag with tiny, pre-cut foam pads, you widened your eyes in a silent demand for answers.

“Some of Kalim’s earrings are clip-ons,” Jamil explained without looking up. Instead, he placed a foam pad on each side of the earring, so both sides of your ear would be cushioned. “He’s very sensitive to the pinching feel, so I keep these on me when he wears them.”

“Oh,” you muttered. “You really are prepared for anything.”

He shrugged. “There’s another trick that might help, too.”

Suddenly, Jamil took one step so that he was directly beside you. He brushed your hair behind your ear, his touch light enough on the sensitive skin that you had to fight back a shiver. It was hard to ignore that he was close enough that you could barely feel the ghost of his breath on your neck. For a moment, you worried about how your profile might look, but any fleeting thoughts of insecurity washed away when Jamil gently tugged on your earlobe and clipped the earring on. A few seconds later, he let go and waited for you to tell him if it felt uncomfortable. When you stayed silent, he moved to the other side and did the same thing, carefully pulling on your ear and slowly clipping the earring.

A second later he was in front of you, grabbing your chin and tilting your head from side to side, checking to see if his work was even and admiring the shine of the earrings in the sunlight. “There. Now they shouldn’t…”

Jamil trailed off, suddenly remembering himself. As he stepped back, further than he was before you even started talking, you thought that he left with enough grace it was almost as if he teleported away from you. You pressed your hand to your face, feeling the warmth and hoping your embarrassment didn’t show. Jamil coughed awkwardly into his shoulder.

“Excuse me. I’m just used to checking Kalim, to ensure he maintains a neat appearance.”

You didn’t call him on his bluff, but you could guess he didn’t hold Kalim’s face - or look at him, for that matter - so tenderly.

• • • • • • • Rook Hunt

The unusual object on the desk in front of his seat caught Rook's attention as soon as he walked into the room. As he tugged on his lab coat, he made a beeline for the small ring pushed to the edge of the desk. It was a dainty, intricate thing, a band of black tangling thorns dotted with small blue and red gemstones like winter berries all throughout. It would be hard for the owner of such a distinctive ring to remain anonymous, even if they weren't someone Rook purposely sought out more than others.

But he knew the hands this ring belonged to. They were lovely hands that he spent a long time admiring. They were hands that fought valiantly to protect the school and care for those burdened by blot. They were hands he wished to hold and kiss and press to his chest in demonstration of his ferociously beating heart!

What luck that, in a school full of potential thieves and ne'er-do-wells, it was he who found your precious ring! Rook tucked it safely in his pocket with a silent vow to return your belongings as soon as class was finished for the day.

By the time Rook had a moment to spare to search for you, the sky was cast in a golden-orange glow, not quite sunset but beautiful all the same. It was difficult to say where you might be - after all, he was normally back at his dorms helping Vil at this time, rather than with you - but he remembered all of the stories you told him. If you were following any kind of pattern, you should be joining your friends after their club meetings, walking them to the hall of mirrors or perhaps even your dorm. With that in mind, Rook started towards the practice field, hoping to intercept you along the way.

He found you in the shade of the tunneled entrance to the field, chatting with Ace with your back turned. Ace was slumped against the wall, sitting with his legs straight out and guzzling water from a bottle. Rook allowed his footsteps to echo in against the stone passage, drawing your attention over your shoulder. His eyes met yours, and his heart skipped a beat when you smiled at him. He returned the gesture in kind.

"Hey Rook! What brings you here?" You asked. At your feet, Ace merely looked at him with a combination of suspicion and anticipation, the usual response Rook received.

"Why, you do!" Rook responded. "Although I must admit, this time I do not arrive to fill my time idly with you. I come bearing a gift of sorts."

With a flourish, Rook reached into his pocket and showed you the ring he found, twisting it so even in the dim light beneath the stone you could still catch the light reflecting off the gems. You gasped, one hand reaching up to cover your delighted smile. It brought a proud smile to Rook's face. Ace swore he could see Rook puff out his chest, just a bit, in pride.

"You found it!" You exclaimed. "I've been wondering what happened to it. I thought I lost it forever.”

“Worry not, dear trickster!” Rook proclaimed, placing a hand to his chest in a dramatic pose. Then, he grabbed your hand still hanging by your side and brought it up, bending at the waist as if he were about to kiss the back of it. “Just as the sun returns to warm the earth each day, just as the stars return to support the splendor of the moon, as sure as the flowers will bloom in the spring, I will ensure that all which belongs to you will return to its rightful place by your side.”

With a small, secretive smile, Rook loosened his grip on your hand and brought the ring to your fingers. Slowly, slowly enough that you knew he was trying to elicit a response, he placed the ring on the finger you normally wore it on. The metal had been warmed by his hand, and he stopped pushing just before it got too tight on your hand. All the while, his striking green eyes kept you in a steady gaze, creating an air of intimacy around the two of you. Briefly, the image of a proposal flashed in your mind, and you felt the heat rush to your cheeks.

Deuce, who must have finished with his practice and joined Ace behind you, suddenly sputtered. “Woah! Is- What-? Are they-?!”

Rook grinned mischievously before running his thumb over your knuckles. “I hope this is enough, so you can understand my intentions, mon coeur.”

#twisted wonderland #twst #riddle rosehearts x reader #ruggie bucchi x reader #jamil viper x reader #rook hunt x reader #riddle rosehearts #ruggie bucchi #jamil viper #rook hunt #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst imagines #twisted wonderland imagines #i thought it would be cute if the jewelry vaguely matched the boys' dorms.......#so if any of them sound ugly just imagine whatever you want lol

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georgiapeach30513 · 8 months

Text

Down On Your Knees

Summary: Pete Brenner was a man you hated. But he still has this annoying power over you. But you're not powerless...

Pairings: Pete Brenner X Reader

Rating: explicit

Warnings: dark-ish, explicit language, explicit sexual content, boss/employee relationship, cheating, toy play, teasing, edging, degradation, objectification, "cockwaming", fingering, squirting, unprotected sex, PIV sex, creampie, cameras, cheating, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 1.8K

Pete Brenner Masterlist

“You can go now,” Mr. Brenner tells you flatly. You stand there unblinking. He promised. He made so many promises, and now you were standing in his office, quaking.

He sneers up at you over the file you handed to him, noting the closed door to his office. Not locked. It could never never be locked. That was the rule, and you followed it. “Mr. Brenner?”

“That will be all,” he haughtily spits out, as you wiggle around. “My wife is bringing some lunch by,” he gives you a domineering grin before returning to his paperwork, “You can go now.”

You hated him. Hated how you could hear a chuckle before that familiar click sounds behind you, and you tremble. He never made you wait this long. It was like he was asking his wife to bring him lunch just so he could torture you. He was the worst part of working here. And yet the one reason you wouldn’t find somewhere else to go.

Sitting down at your desk, you wipe the sweat that beads up around your hairline. Taking a deep breath as you try to center yourself. It was downright painful what he was doing to you. You couldn’t think of anything more torturous at this moment. Hell, you couldn't even think.

Mr. Brenner clears his throat, and you look back at his now opened door. Lifting up a square rectangle as he clicks it again, and your head crashes to the desk. “How about you call my wife, and tell her I’ll be ready in half an hour?” You mumble something, still unable to lift your head off the desk, “Excuse me?”

“Yes, Mr. Brenner. I’ll call her,” you get Rebecca on the phone, rolling your eyes at how cheerful she sounded. Telling her that her husband was nearly finished when that stupid clicking rings in your ears, and all you hear is a buzzing sound.

Squeezing your thighs together the best you knew how, your head crashes back down, “Are…are you okay?” She asks, and you gulp. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. You hated him. You loathed him.

“Y-y-yeah, just…just got hot. So so hot,” you pant out, when a final click has you turning back to glare at your boss. He knew how much you despised him. His mouth turns up in a wicked grin before he winks at you.

“Okay, tell him that I’ll be there,” rich people are something you didn’t understand. Too many of the wives were married only for the benefits. They knew that their husbands were despicable. But as long as it wasn’t them, they really didn’t care. They’d turn a blind eye to anything.

“Asshole,” you whisper under your breath, as he clicks that box again. “I hate you.”

——

“Let’s see here,” Mr. Brenner walks around you. Looking you up and down like you were his prey, and he was about to devour you. Leaning in he takes a long sniff up your neck, “Don’t you smell like you had a rough day today. Let me see,” you shake your head no, getting tired of this demeaning ritual. Everyday. You couldn’t leave without it.

“I said, to let me see, or I open this door, and I invite all of them in here to witness this. Assume the position, and let me fucking see your filthy little cunt,” you gulp as you walk over to his desk, starting to remove your panties before he tsks you, “Let’s see just how wet you got for me today.”

He holds up that rectangle as a warning, as you settle back onto his desk. Hiking up your pencil skirt before spreading your legs wide. “Aww, you poor thing. Your thighs are so sticky and slicked up. So wet, you’re dripping down. Been walking around with those soiled panties all day, huh?”

“You didn’t let me have a lunch break,” he walks closer to you, rubbing over the bulges in your underwear. He couldn’t know how uncomfortable it was to walk around like this. Not just wet, but with two toys on you at all times.

Grabbing up a pair of scissors, he cuts off your panties, dropping the soiled silk and lace into his desk. Sick bastard. Finally that vibrator drops onto the floor, and you sigh in relief. He pulls back your lips, giving your swollen clit a roll in between his finger and thumb, and your head tilts back to stare at the ceiling, whimpering.

“You’re so mean,” you whine. He doesn’t respond, just pulls out a hot pink dildo. Sucking your juices off it as he stares at your throbbing pussy. “I hate you.”

“She doesn’t,” he licks his lips, moaning at your tangy honey. “You’ve never been stuffed full all day. Look at her. She needs to be filled with a real cock. Needs to actually come. You filthy slut, your legs are soaked, and that whore hole is spread wide and pulsing, and all for a chance for me to fuck that slutty little hole. Is that why you flipped me off today?”

“You wouldn’t let me come,” you start whining as he inserts two fingers. Humming when squelching sounds become the loudest thing in the office. He was a mother fucker.

“But look at how needy you became for me. You hear that? It’s the most beautiful sound in the world. You desperate little slut. How bad do you want it?” Clenching your eyes closed, you shake your head no.

“You are such a liar. Tell Mr. Brenner how bad you want me to fuck you. How bad you want to come over my fat cock. How bad do you want me to use you? Tell me how you love being treated like a filthy slut with that door open. Anyone could walk in, and see you getting that tight little pussy filled with my cock. Tell me. Go on, tell me, sweetheart.”

It was demeaning how he never said your name. It was disgusting how he has you spread out, finger fucking you, and letting your arousal drip down to the floor below, while you tried to deny yourself an orgasm. It’s what he wanted. He wanted to break you down. It’s what you get for moaning on the phone to his boss. It was his sick twisted game.

His fingers curl as he drives his hand in you, and you lean back on your elbows. You wouldn’t say it. He didn’t let you a lunch break. Made you walk around soaked, and cockwarming silicone all day. Little fucker. He…he…fuuuck. It is too much. Your legs were already quivering as he hits your special spot over and over again.

“Mr. Brenner!”

“Shh,” he doesn’t slow. Doesn’t stop. Not even when your juices squirt all over his shirt. Soaking him, as he laughs. Evidence of how good he gave it to you. Trying to close your legs, but he pushes them further apart. “Tell me!”

“I need you to fuck me, Mr. Brenner!” Jerking his hand out of you, he undoes his slacks, and releases his thick member. He was THROBBING. Angry with beads of precum dripping down his veiny girth. He shoves himself into your used pussy, and fucks into you with a fervent need.

Ripping open your blouse, he tugs your breasts out of your bra, just so he can watch the swollen spheres bounce with every hard stab into you. Menace. Fucking asshole. But damn if he didn’t make you feel good. Giving your nipples a hard tweak, he then slaps your engorged tits. “My pretty little slut. I’m going to have you on your knees at the next meeting. Right under the table with your pretty little mouth keeping my cock warm. Letting you grind over my shoe, while I talk with the big boys. Use you like the wet flesh you are. You are my slut aren’t you? You like being used?”

“Yes!”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, sir,” you desperately cry as your belly starts to heat up. You had been denied all day, but you were feeding his ego of making you come fast. Could already feel him twitching inside of you. It wasn’t him that made you come so fast. It was his constant and unrelenting teasing. All. Fucking. Day.

“Yes, Mr. Brenner!”

“That’s right! You are mine to use! And I will use you however I want!”

“Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck,” you grit your teeth. You hated him.

“Yeah. Gonna fill you up. You think you’re going to be dripping me as you walk out of this office? They already know,” you open your eyes, pouting up at him, “Yeah. Say hey to the camera, you fucking slut,” he cackles, and you look behind him to see a camera pointed right at his desk. Capturing all your salacious sins on film.

“Let them see how pretty you are when you come,” he slaps your clit, making you start to scream out his name. Coming hard over his cock, and your walls clench down tight around him. Squeezing every inch of his fat cock, until his warm seeds fills you up. Your brows furrow, and you can’t help the satisfied smile that covers your face as your cunt milks him dry.

“Even my wife doesn’t get that part of me,” he pulls out of you, just as quickly as he pushed into you. Never giving you a second glance as he tucks himself back in.

“You can go home now,” he winks, walking out the office before you. Fucking. Asshole. Dipshit.

Straightening yourself up the best way you know how, despite missing some buttons on your blouse, you hobble out of his office. His cream starts to seep out as you walk past his colleagues. Whispers amongst them. They’re not stupid. They could see the evidence drip down your thighs. Could see the heat in your cheeks, and even your nipples pressing hard against your bra.

“Next time you should have someone to clean you up,” Nick Fowler, another sleazy businessman says as you push the button for the elevator.

“Shut up.”

“Oh, he doesn’t share? Your secret is safe with all of us,” he leans over, wiping Pete’s spend off your leg. Standing up tall, he pushes his finger past your lips. “How do the two of you taste? You know there’s only one reason he hired you, right? You let him fuck you like his sexdoll, and keep your mouth shut.”

“Yeah, and I lie about being on birth control,” you give him a wink, stepping into the elevator. “She may have the ring. But I’ll have the kid,” you hold up your middle finger as the doors close. They were all assholes. And Pete Brenner was going to give you and your child a beautiful life. Just to keep quiet. It would be worth it. Assholes. They’ll get what they deserve.

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @sstan-hoe @missusbarnes-rogers @peaches1958 @seitmai @smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @kmc1989 @donutloverxo @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @bambamwolf87 @harrysthiccthighss

#down on your knees #pain hustlers #pete brenner #pete brenner x reader #pete brenner x fem!reader #pete brenner x y/n #pete brenner x you #pete brenner smut #pete brenner fanfiction #pete brenner fics #pete brenner fanfic #chris evans #chris evans character

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astralisbelle · 1 year

Note

Din filthy prompt!

Good old shower sex on razor crest. Trying to keep quiet as much as possible because they don’t want to wake the little green baby up.

Hush, Hush -- Din Djarin x F!Reader

warnings: explicit smut, creampie, some very light d/s tones, staying quiet, and shower sex... ofc

What a day.

The hot water beading down her head and back washes away the fatigue, soothing her muscles. She hangs her head, hands pressed against the wall of the shower just to relax herself. It takes her a while before she actually takes the bar of soap in hand, works up a lather, and rubs it onto her shoulders. The sound of metal-on-metal perks her up, alerting her to a foreign presence.

“You’re going to waste all the hot water.” The Mandalorian’s modulated, curt tone cuts through the steam and hiss of the water.

“We had a long day,” she says, rinsing her arms of the soap. “I mean, if it bothers you that much, I’d say we could share it. But you’d never.” Glancing over her shoulder, she sticks her tongue out at him.

Din stands there with his arms crossed, squaring his shoulders and trying to look unimpressed. The black of his visor hides the fact that his eyes are following the contours of her body like the beads of water. Suddenly his tongue is dry and craves to quench itself with those droplets. Today was trying as it is, wearing his patience thin. After a long pause, he tugs on the leather of his gloves, pulling on each of the fingers before sliding them off. As soon as they hit the floor, he unties his cape.

Her eyes widen. “D-Din?”

“Turn around. Don’t look back.” It embarrasses her how easily she follows his commands. Though, it wouldn’t be the first time, would it? She faces the wall and listens to the pieces of beskar hit the floor, to his belt clanking against metal. Stars, Din always took forever to undress, leaving her to sit in her lust, recalling lewd memories of where his hands had been, where his lips had left marks.

Bend over. Touch me. Kiss me. Cum for me.

Those were all demands he growled in her ear before — she fulfilled every last one.

The soft patter of his footsteps approaching makes her chest feel tight, like the steam was making it harder to breathe. A shadow against the wall of his figure grows bigger and bigger until the overhead light fails to shine upon her. When Din wraps his arms around her, her body awakens, recognizing the skillful hands that brought her so much pleasure before. He rests his chin on her shoulder, relishing in the heat from her body and hot shower.

His hands swipe the soap from hers, pushing her hair over shoulder. After creating suds in his palm, he massages it onto her back. She sighs in satisfaction, leaning into the touch and willing herself to not look back. Her eyes flutter closed and she drifts away. Then, his hands slide over her hips and onto her stomach. Soap makes her skin slippery as he tickles around her navel, making her giggle.

She opens her eyes to watch his hands — his bare hands that she almost never gets to see. Streams of water trickle down the valleys made from veins and knuckles. Hard, calloused pads massage her skin as a firm, defined chest rests against her back. Din’s stubbled chin rests on her neck and shoulder. She licks her bottom lip as his hands inch further up. He breathes out, wide palms capturing the flesh of her breasts. That slippery feeling makes them ultra smooth, all the more fun to knead and squish. “Mmm…” A low, satisfactory hum comes from her lower throat as he kisses her shoulder and pinches her peaks.

On instinct, she inches apart her feet and presses her ass right against his half-hard cock. A shower isn’t a fantastic place for this, but neither of them care.

Din pushes her forward until her chest squishes against the wall, boxing her in with his body alone. He grinds his hips, getting himself hard enough until he can rub his tip against her slit. She lets out a louder moan that prompts him to clamp a hand over her mouth.

“Shh.” Wouldn’t want to wake the kid… Oh, but his darling does so love it when he’s a little mean. “Keep quiet or I stop.”

Fuck, she could listen to him give her commands all day. A quiet whimper of affirmation is all he needs. While the roar of the water covers up his softer, repressed groans, he angles himself against her entrance. Slowly, he pushes in, her thighs quaking as she moans against his palm. He draws back before he fills her up again, her fingers curling against the wall. Din has to control himself too, clenching each of his muscles and teeth to not let a single loud sound escape the bathroom, no matter how fucking delicious her tight walls hug his dick.

Din hides a groan against her skin, uttering a quick swear. The hand clamped over her mouth tightens, his fingers digging into her cheek. He can tell that she wants to moan so badly, to say his name in sinful prayer over and over, but she does everything in her power to stop it. She bites her lip, she claws her fingers, she squeezes around him.

“You’re doing so — ah — well,” he whispers. “So good…”

His hip bones meet her rear in wet slaps as he drives harder, chasing the rise of his pleasure. She is writhing, her whines and whimpers getting desperate behind his hand. “Shh, shh,” he whispers in her ear, slowing himself to tease her. “Stay. Quiet.” She groans in response. Din gives her a hard thrust. “Just like that… yes, just like that.”

Din kisses her shoulder and sucks the droplets off her skin, just like he wanted to. “Be a good girl and cum.” Her body shudders at his words, clenching and flushing hot. “Cum.” She mewls against his palm as her thighs quake, her walls tightening around him as her climax unravels. Din has to use himself entirely to keep her from falling, holding her against him as he delivers his final few thrusts.

With a groan buried deep in her shoulder, he drives his cock deep, pumping hot streams of seed that mix with her essence. Her eyes roll up as he stuffs her full, white streams trickling down her inner thighs.

He lets go of her mouth and lets her breathe, her hands resting on his. After a few heavy breaths, she shivers, but not because of their activity. Goosebumps run up and down her skin as she awakens to the fact that the water has cooled down and inches towards cold.

Din sighs loudly. “Told you you would waste it.”

She snorts. “Shut up, Din.”

#the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian smut #din djarin x reader #din djarin #belle fulfills requests #thank you so much for the prompt!

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eydi-andrius · 8 months

Text

His Point of View (Gojo Satoru x Reader)

A Sequel to Side Characters End Up Alone

a/n: I'm really sorry that it took a while but I feel much better now to write for angst. I hope this is worth the wait. Thank you lovelies! Again, I appreciate likes but comments and reblogs makes me feel well-loved.

cw/tw: pure angst, unrequited love, pov of the person who was confessed to, from love to despise, probably unexpected pov but I gotta write it, may upset some audience but I have been thinking of this as canon in this story

divider: @/cafekitsune

summary: Gojo knew how precious you are in his life. You are his greatest confidant, his other half and someone to whom he can never live without. However, no one ever told him how to handle a situation wherein his childhood best friend is truly madly deeply in love with him but he only sees her as his friend

The once cute white squared beads of letters that used to spell his name and yours, sewn together as proof of your long lasting friendship, was now across the floor of the dim parking lot.

He could barely see some of it. The place was illuminated by the yellow, almost dying light of the old light post. It buzzes and flickers as it does its best to give light. The dim colour makes his head hurt more. It was already throbbing when you went to pick him up, but after running after you, the feeling intensified, like splitting his head in half.

However, the blur in his eyes from the pain did not mask how worn out those beads were. He can see the first letter of your name, rolled near his shoe. He bent down to pick it up and raised it, to see clearly on the only source of light. It looks old, yes, but it is well-kept, polished even. As if someone had smoothened it for years…..because she cares and truly treasures this childish gift he gave to her once upon a time.

Gojo closed his eyes and breathed deeply.

Long ago, when you confessed to him, he didn't know what to do. There were only two of you behind the school, you were fidgeting, scared and a pale mess, as you shared your heart out to him. Confessing the supposed to be beautiful truth, but at that moment, can either create something new or break something perfect, that you both had established together for a long time.

Surprised, unprepared and confused, all he did was stare at you, mouth agape. His world stopped, not expecting that you feel that way towards him. How…No one ever told him what to do at this moment. He felt trapped and his mind was swirling, trying to think of the best words to reply, the best course of action to do when your childhood best friend confesses to you. He was overloading and for a long time was just wide-eyed staring at you.

Probably, when you realised he wasn't going to reply, you felt embarrassed and humiliated so you chose to run away from him. During that time, Gojo found that his voice was working as he called out to your small frame, slowly vanishing from view.

You two did not talk about it until after three days. After he had a conversation with Geto. He helped him realise his feelings, for he thinks Geto was really wise for his age. And he is wise and provided good advice. He made Gojo feel confident enough to share his true feelings to you and that was him loving you as his precious friend, nothing more, nothing less.

Gojo wished that at that time he realises that Geto was just the same age as him, and no amount of good advice will come from a person whose life experience were in equal to him. If he knew right there and then, he would have let the friendship go and freed you of the burden of loving him. In that way, you would have been happy. In that way, you probably would have found someone to whom you deserve. Someone who will love you, more than you loved him.

But he was young, foolish and scared about the what ifs. What if you were the best he could ever have in this lifetime. If he lets you go, what if he will never have you anymore? He was scared to be alone. A selfish brat.

And so like a fool, when you pleadingly asked to keep the friendship, he agreed and continued acting the same.

It worked out for a while, until he started having feelings for other girls. Your eyes. God! Your eyes cannot lie at all, it screams your feelings like an open book being read out loud. Doe-eyes stares at him, openly hurting and in pain. It made him go crazy, insane even, affecting his relationships and becoming a toxic partner to some.

Of course, those weren't your fault. It was his. That was his relationship, not yours. However, there was a slitter in his gut, he used to ignore it, until its ugly head showed its face and he openly hated you for destroying his connections.

He was resentful and he admits, he does things to see you suffer. You did that to him!

Of course he knew he was wrong and stupid but he cannot stop the feeling of pure hatred every time beautiful things were ruined in his life because you existed.

You were his blessing but he made you his curse.

Opening his eyes, he stared at the dark sky. The moon was nowhere to be seen but a lone star twinkles beautifully, claiming the sky for itself. His blue orbs twinkled as he stared at it.

He cannot help but smile. It was a true smile. A smile of someone who was relieved. Of someone with a thorn in his chest for years, finally plucked out, relieved of the pain. Finally, your curse was over. The curse he implanted by his side was over.

If someone hears his thoughts tonight, they will probably hate him. But he doesn't care about them.

He was just so happy that now ... .now it was finally over.

He loves you, he cares about you but he cannot deal with your hurt anymore. None of your hurt was his fault. He was torturing himself for years and now, it was truly done.

Feeling the hot tear running down his face, he laughed. It was full of mirth. He is thankful, grateful even.

He wishes you the best as he clutches the only bead he picked up, close to his chest.

He treasures you but he also treasures the distance you now gave him. He cannot wait to finally start his life over.

#gojou satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen gojo #gojo sensei #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru fic #gojo satoru angst #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen

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mysumeow · 1 year

Text

My ears! Why won't you pet them? 2/2❜

PREVIOUS PART

Summary: Tighnari is used to the attention his fox features bring to him. Your apparent indifference to them makes him wonder: why's that?

Warnings: Once again, Tighnari calls reader a lummox. That's like his catchphrase. Non-graphic descriptions of violence. Pretty sfw all-over, but gets mildly suggestive towards the end with nudity.

a/n: asks and requests are open ^^

Tighnari awoke with a severe headache that prevented him from even sitting up in bed. Next to him, you were sitting on a chair as you jotted down some notes. You noticed that, despite his eyes being open, he still had a dazed expression.

"How are you feeling? You received a strong hit to your head," you closed your report journal and left it on the desk. "If I hadn’t disobeyed your request, who knows if you would’ve made it out alive,"

"Ah, right. Now I remember," once again, he attempted to sit and rest his back against the headboard. "We were…cleansing a withering zone?"

"And then a pack of rifthounds attacked us."

His hand brushed against his bandaged abdomen, the memory of how it got there coming in as fresh as the wound.

"You’re not harmed, are you?" he took a quick look at your body in search of any telltale sign that you were also hurt.

"How would I be harmed if you told me to flee as soon as those rifthounds appeared," you crossed your arms. "I did come back not even a minute later and drag your body out of there,"

"I was too reckless," he recognized, ashamed. "I had already cleansed a withering zone earlier in the morning and didn’t regard proper rest before going to the next one,"

"Don’t overthink about it," you told him before he could apologize. "We made it out of there alive; that’s all that matters,"

Despite your assurance, the need to apologize gnawed at him in the back of his mind.

"Look at you. You’re always complaining about adventurers being reckless and having to nurse them back to health," you teased.

"Very funny," he rolled his eyes.

"I know," you said as you rose from your seat. "You look thirsty. I’ll go look for a glass of water. Don’t go anywhere,"

"Do I have a choice."

Tighnari, ever the stubborn one, managed to get out of bed and scan his own appearance, just to get a better idea of the injuries on his body. You weren’t trained on how to approach these types of damages, unlike all forest rangers, so he figured Collei gave you a hand on how to treat his wounds.

His eyes fixed on the square band-aid patch at the base of his left ear and what that meant.

"I’m back—And of course you wouldn’t stay in bed," you said, leaving the glass of water on his bedside table and gathering your belongings, such as the report journal. "Because you need to rest, let's put research on hold for today... or until you feel better."

"No need. We can continue right away."

"Don't be silly; go back to bed," you said gently. "Remember to update your own journal,"

Maybe you didn’t care about it or didn’t notice, but Tighnari was too aware of your proximity. His heartbeat spiked up and didn’t calm down, even after you left his room.

Late at night was when he decided it was a good time to finish documenting recent finds.

Tighnari yawned and opened the journal to the page he recalls being the latest he wrote on.

Not only was the pencil on a different page, but the texture of the notebook was also different. With a confused frown, he checked the front cover.

You took his journal by accident.

It wouldn’t be bad if it were the one dedicated to academic endeavors.

You took his personal one.

He shivered as a cold bead of sweat ran down his neck.

He almost had a heart attack when he opened his door to run to your temporary home, and he was met with your just as startled expression. Tighnari heeded the familiar cover of his personal journal clutched against your chest.

"You read it, didn't you?" he groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "…Listen, let’s pretend this didn’t happen—"

He recalled that the last paragraph he wrote was about how much he wanted you to touch his ears and how frustrated he was that you were being oblivious about his feelings for you ever since you both were students at the Akademiya.

He wasn’t going to be able to sleep tonight.

"Why didn’t you tell me sooner," you interrupted and stepped closer to him. "I always thought you were the one too entranced in your work to notice my feelings,"

He gawked at you. "You can’t be serious. Tell me you’re joking,"

"I’m not."

"Your visits are work-driven, and most of the letters we exchange are focused on that too! How would I guess you feel the same for me if the idea you give me is that we’re mere workmates,"

You sighed and averted your gaze from him.

"I’m sort of familiar with your kin. They tend to pursue knowledge and appreciate educational accomplishments over anything else. I didn’t want to feel like a burden?"

"…Wow, you really are a lummox in all senses of the word."

"Gee, thanks."

"Your information regarding my kin is not wrong. However, I must address the fact that you’re overlooking that not only are you not a burden to me, but I’m also capable of still pursuing knowledge and be with you,"

"So, in other words, you mean…"

Cautiously, he reached out to you and observed your reactions for any sign of rejection. With sheer tenderness, his hand grasped yours and pulled you inside his home.

The first graze of lips was sweet, his arms circled around your waist, and you pressed your bodies together. You pulled away to relish the feeling, which Tighnari granted you a second to do, and he was pulling you again for another kiss.

Tighnari jolted when you decided it was a good moment to rub his ear, and not being able to control it, he began to purr.

"You can do that?" it was a welcomed discovery.

"I—Yes—" his cheeks flared pink with embarrassment. "Don’t exploit it!"

"Hm. You're lucky I'm exhausted," you let go of his ear and preferred to nuzzle yourself onto his neck, the vibration from his purr all too soothing. "Let's just rest, yes?"

He didn't bother to move an inch, content with holding you closer and relaxing his cheek on your head.

The chirping from the birds outside awoke you from sleep, and the embrace you both dozed in was now pretty much over. Tighnari's leg is over yours, and your arm is tucked under his back.

Your arm was so numb that the pain shot right through it when you tugged it from under Tighnari, waking him up.

"Ah, my whole body hurts."

"I might as well lose an arm because of you," you groaned. "How about your wounds? Do you think you can continue today?"

He shook his head no, viridescent eyes staring back at you.

"If you want to carry on with your duties, don't let me hold you back. I can manage on my own."

"No need. I'll stay with you. And won't receive a no for an answer," you grasped his arms and led him to the bathroom.

"You're too kind. You could just scrub my back with a rag and I'll take care of the rest."

"You don't... want to take a bath together?"

"Oh," his eyes widened and processed the information. "...Oh. Uhm—if it's okay with you...?"

"I wouldn't have offered to in the first place," you laughed as you turned on the bathtub's faucet.

You were humming to yourself as you got the bath ready.

Self-conscious now, even though he wanted to go in with you, Tighnari began disrobing himself as slowly as possible.

By the time he was moving on to undo the sash around his hip, you had already removed most of your clothes. His eyes trailed from your face to your neck, and lower...

"Need help with that?" you volunteered to give him a hand, startling him and he forced himself to look away bashfully. "Your arms must hurt, after all,"

You directed him a teasing smile. If his ears could turn red, they would do so now.

Once bare, Tighnari followed behind you and sat on the corner opposite of you. He lowered himself enough so the bubbles would hide his face up to his mouth, not sure where to focus his eyes.

You weren't helping matters by sitting on his lap and running your shampoo-slathered hands through his hair, your chest right at his eye level. Perhaps you were having too much fun with the fact that he starts purring as soon as your hands touched his ears; you spent most of the time with your fingers there.

His delight was cut short when your fingers came across the deep cut those monsters released, and pain shot up at that instant.

"It stings," he hissed, scrunching his nose.

"If someone wasn’t reckless yesterday…"

"You’re not going to forget about it, will you?"

"Never.”

#tighnari #tighnari x reader #tighnari fluff #/ᐠ - ˕ -マ .. cute cute

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hangesdarling · 26 days

Note

thoughts on what hange would do when readers pregnant? i feel like seeing reader pregnant would make them so horny 🙈🤭

Hange getting horny when you're pregnant...

PAIRING. AMAB!Hange Zoë x pregnant!female reader CONTENT. 18+, MDNI, breeding kink, vaginal sex, mentions of doggy style sex position, masturbation, Hange cums on your belly (lmk what else) A/N. anon idk if this is what you're thinking but I couldn't help but imagine it like this hehe 🤭 just shoot me another ask if you want an afab!hange version ♡

hange would be horny, yes. but would they admit it to you that easily? probably not.

the moment you told them you were pregnant, they were over the roof and, crushing you so tightly in a hug, twirling you around in joy.

they'll tell all of their friends about it and you have to squeeze their hand sometimes and tell them to ease down.

next day, you see them carrying a stack of books filling their arm and before you even ask what those all are, they'll smile brightly at you and say, "wanna hear about babies?"

a quarter of the bed would be filled with open books as you lay down, listening to hange as they tell you about the things they've read as you stroke their hair.

but when they notice you getting sleepy, they just smile and kiss your forehead before cuddling you to sleep.

the first few weeks of having sex are gentle and romantic. hange would tell you all sorts of things. you're beautiful. they love you and the baby with all their heart.

there would be sweet kisses on your neck and cheek and long intimate ones on your lips

their intentions would be originally just purely fluffy and loving as expected from such a doting spouse.

but on some nights when sleep doesn't come easily, their mind would wander back to various things.

they would think of the exact day they might have gotten you pregnant, tracing an invisible calendar in their head and playing a recollection of memories.

but when they imagine your flushed blushing face all those nights ago, of how you clung to their shoulder when you were hitting orgasm, of how you became a whimpering mess telling them to come inside, hange would just find themself blushing, an inexplicable heat shooting through their body.

they would bury their face on your neck as you sleep, trying their best to keep their hardness in check.

but there were nights, they couldn't help it and you're willing to help them out.

sweat would bead on their temples, eyes closed as they thrust their hardened member in and out of you.

a gentle hand would trace over your belly, moving in soft caresses

hange curses under their breath, lips parting as soft grunts escape their mouth

they would whisper your name, their mind letting their mouth run for them as they told you about how pretty you looked on all those nights you're stuffed full of them or how their cum leaks out of you, dripping warm and thick against the sheets.

hange would hold your hand as they thrust, not pinning your wrist but keeping your fingers laced in a passionate lock.

your fingers in their hair and your legs mounted on their hips would be enough to rile them up further. each thrust was accompanied by a tug of their hair, or the moans escaping your lips as you both came into a shuddering release.

hange would keep that position for at least a few minutes, kissing you all over but most importantly, kissing your belly a good night before pulling you in their arms to sleep

the next day, they would be in high spirits, a huge smile plastered on their face as they woke you up with a warm breakfast

hange adored you, fascinated about you and the baby you're carrying

their idea of pillow talk would be telling you the best foods for pregnant women or the most suitable colors for a nursery room or maybe illustrating a punnett square of genetics they made for your baby ("your eyes and my nose. great combination right?" they'll beam at you)

no matter how sweet or caring they are, you still notice how much it turns them on to see that small bump forming in your belly

you'll see them stare, come over to you to just kiss your belly, and talk to their unborn baby

when you teased them about it, you half expected for you to be pinned down on the bed, legs spread open once more as they fuck you

and that's what happened

hange remained gentle but you could sense how hot and bothered they were just from the deep blush creeping on their face or how their half-lidded eyes stared at you

despite how much they love coming inside, they would pull out this time. seeing pleasure in seeing their cum paint the bump on your belly.

that's enough to rile them up for another round but they would stop themself, letting you rest on their arms for the whole night.

"rest for the baby too, alright sweetheart?" they'll mumble in your ear, pressing a kiss on your neck before they sleep.

hange may be busy, but they would find or steal away time just to spend long hours with you.

after work, their form of rest might just be lying on your belly, placing sleepy kisses on every surface

"the baby said you're invading privacy, you dork," you joked at them one time when they said they could nap all day on your belly "my, my. is my baby upset with me?" they'll chuckle, crawling towards you to catch your lips in theirs. "yes, very much," you would say, smiling against their lips. "uh-oh. big trouble for me, i guess," they'll say, feigning worry as they proceed to kiss you down. "but our baby needs to learn to share their mommy, right?"

their loving embrace or teases would sometimes turn into a scene where they would have you on all fours, their hips thrusting from behind you. they're moving slow and firm, only speeding up at that sweet peak

hange relishes how your enlarged breasts fit around their hands, giving wet kisses on your spine in pleasure.

but as the months passed and your bump grew larger, hange would just spend most of their time with you, cuddling and making sure you were not in discomfort.

they would leave the house for work, making sure you wouldn't have to worry a thing or move around much after they left.

they would kiss your sleeping figure goodbye, place another kiss on your belly, and say, "you take care in there, little one. tell mommy i love you both, alright"

it was their gesture of affection for the unborn child, talking and telling them various stories or even promises once they're born.

hange grew fond of giving you forehead kisses, especially after work

they'll ensure to bring the food you're craving, joining as you eat no matter how weird the food combination would be.

they wouldn't tell you much about how stressful work has been and would focus more on the good things that happen.

but you could see their stress just from the bags under their eyes, or their unkempt hair you always used to comb before they left for work.

when you offer to relieve them, hange would hesitate, telling you that they don't want you getting even more tired just for that.

you would take their hand and tell them that maybe they could relieve themself with some form of help from you.

a smile would creep on their face as you say that, asking for your permission to touch themself and come on your belly again as it leaves them riled up and satisfied

you would happily agree to it as hange locked your lips in a heated kiss as they touched themself.

after that heated-up session, hange would kiss your forehead once again, cleaning both of you up for bed.

they'll never miss a night telling you how beautiful you are, how much they love you, how grateful they are that you're carrying their child, that they are the happiest knowing you would be the mother of their children and will spend their years loving and growing with you

hange would doze off to the thought of you and the baby inside you, a tranquil scenery that keeps them alive, a memory in their head cherished forever even years after

likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated, sweethearts <3

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kastlequill · 6 months

Text

iii/v. ‘til my pulse loses time: pulsus paradoxus

pairing: kyle gaz garrick x f!reader word count: 1.7k synopsis: the third time you save gaz tags: whumptober, infection, wound tending, hurt/comfort, medic!reader, 4+1, no y/n warnings: none ao3: read here ← prev | next →

III.

You had lost count of how many times you’d warned him about the risk of infection, which was already quite high given the sheer frequency at which he acquired open wounds.

Best keep that thing covered, soldier, had been your soft-spoken command to close out his fourth visit in the span of a month and a half. That time, a stabbed forearm, and the time before that, a nasty gash down his spine, and so on. I don’t want to see you back in my infirmary for a long while, copy?

But it seemed your cautioning had gone in one ear and out the other. It wasn’t that Gaz didn’t know how to protect himself, nor was he incapable of mitigating the damage he sustained in combat; the sergeant was a competent man, something that you greatly appreciated when it came time to patch him up.

Rather, it was more so the case that he treated his life recklessly. Surviving was one thing, but exiting the fray unscathed? That was an altogether different and separate objective which, in his mind, warranted far less concern than completing the mission.

To him, the game plan was very simple: successfully execute orders, then get the hell out of there. Bonus points if he kept the majority of his body intact and functional.

For a soldier, this logic made total sense. Such a thought process was to be expected from someone who had spent over a decade honing his physical form into a weapon and had thus learned how to mentally detach himself from his personhood whenever necessary. During the firefight, his muscles and limbs moved in accordance with years of conditioning and training, acting on autopilot. Gaz, the man who brought you lunch on your busiest days and made damn certain none of your rowdier patients were giving you shit, faded into the background; what he did became exceedingly more important than the fact that it was he who did it.

For a medic, however? The stunning lack of self-preservation irritated you to no end.

And today, that irritation spiked to a record peak the instant he walked into the medbay with unfocused eyes and beads of sweat on his brow bone, jaw slightly loose, chest heaving for air.

“Hey, Doc,” Gaz said with a wince, the greeting sounding more like a croak than anything else. He pressed the palm of his hand to his forehead. “I’m not feeling too good. You mind if I. . ?”

Those were the last words to leave his lips before he all but collapsed into your waiting arms. Ignoring the worry that had begun to churn in your gut, you immediately helped him stumble to a nearby cot then gradually sat him down. Instinct took over, spurring you to quickly gather your medkit, don a pair of surgical gloves, gently open his mouth, and stick a thermometer under his tongue.

High body temperature, difficulty attending to external stimuli, fast pulse—textbook signs of an infection.

You were thankful that the nurse was too busy checking on another admit to notice how you cradled his face in your hands for a beat longer than was necessary after removing the thermometer. “Gaz, I need you to stay sharp, you got that? You have to show me where you’re injured so I can do my job.”

Blinking a little more awake, he gave a curt nod and lifted up the front end of his shirt to reveal what looked to be a knife wound slightly above his left hip. If the accumulation of dried pus was anything to go off of, it must have been at least a week old.

That’s definitely infected, alright.

“Why didn’t you call this in?” You lightly pressed into the inflamed flesh around the problem site, assessing its tenderness, but stopped when he let out a low, pained hiss. “We could’ve gotten it squared away in less than half an hour and saved ourselves the trouble.”

His half-lidded stare locked onto your alert, wide eyes. “Y’told me you’d rather I not come around for a bit, yeah? Can’t have you getting sick of me already, Doc. It’s bad form.”

It took everything in you not to flinch.

Of course a soldier would interpret an offhand joke in its most literal sense. Your playful tease had been intended to disguise genuine concern. Instead, the man had gotten the impression that you were annoyed by his insistence, which couldn’t be further from the truth.

In reality, you damn near prayed to any and all deities for them to shorten the time between his visits and lengthen his stays.

“That isn’t—” You swallowed an overwhelming wave of mixed emotions. “That isn’t what I meant, Kyle.”

He grinned, suddenly very coherent and present. “So it’s Kyle now, is it? Well, if I’d bloody known some measly infection is all it’d take for you to call me by my name, then I would’ve fuckin’ done this ages ago.”

Heat rushed towards your face, mostly pocketing itself in your cheeks. Some reassurance followed suit; Gaz couldn’t be too bent out of shape if he still had the energy and mental faculties to. . . to flirt with you.

As you cleaned the oozing gash, flushing it out with cool water and dabbing on a topical antibiotic with a Q-tip, the sergeant lowered his head to watch you work, eager to witness you in your element. Perhaps it should’ve annoyed you because of how frequently his forehead bumped into yours, but you understood his curiosity well. It was only fair, considering how often you wondered about him in the field; what he did, how and why he did it.

Who he became.

The occasional graze of your fingertips along his ribcage made the skin there to ripple, and he released a shaky exhale. “What’s the verdict, then?”

“Nothing that oral antibiotics and proper wound care won’t fix. But I want to keep you here overnight for observation and rehydration.” You stuck on a lopsided bandage and used your hand to smooth out any crinkles in the adhesive. When you lifted your face to address him more directly, the slight brush of his nose against yours caused a hitch in your breathing, and you jerked backward, startled by his closeness.

A pleased hum emanated from his throat. “Always lookin’ out for me. Soon as I get this blasted thing sorted, I’ll thank you properly.”

“There’s no need,” you assured him, stepping further out of reach. “Just focus on getting better, will you? This prescription is over the course of seven days. Don’t let me hear you’ve been skipping your meds.”

Needing to put several meters between the two of you, the shelves at the backend of the clinic were the perfect escape. There, no longer in view, you sifted through various supplies until you found an open box of penicillin, counted fourteen tablets in total, then funneled the antibiotic into a standard orange prescription bottle. By the time you returned to his cot with the medication, the sergeant was already munching on a couple of crackers, courtesy of the nurse.

He visibly straightened at your arrival and softly said, “Thank you. I mean it.”

Just doing my job, was what you should have replied. Nonchalant; not the slightest bit personally vested in your patient outside of the clinic.

“If you really want to thank me, you’ll stop getting hurt all the damn time,” were the words you muttered instead, sounding like a petulant child. Or perhaps you simply sounded like someone who gave a shit.

Because you did. You, a tested combat medic who should honestly know better by now, cared deeply about him, a special operator who risked his life daily so that the rest of the world remained relatively out of harm’s way. And given the horrors you’d seen both on the battlefield and in the infirmary, to care for someone like him was a terrifying notion.

What a nuisance, these matters of the heart.

His eyes dulled at your response, and you were consumed with the desire to bring back the light in those brown depths. “You know I can’t.”

The confirmation, though expected, still stung. Knowledge was such a curse, you decided. On some occasions, it benefited you to wield it, but on others, it only brought inescapable suffering. Regardless of the consequences, the possessor of said knowledge was forced to carry it within them always, robbed of a chance at blissful ignorance.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” you sighed, lips settling into a resigned smile. “It was worth a shot.”

From then on, the remainder of your tending to him was spent in silence. Not an awkward silence, nor an angry silence; just silence. A neutral, comfortable silence—your favorite.

All that was left to do could’ve been passed off to the technician or even skipped entirely, but you felt compelled to go the extra mile where he was involved. You wet a rag to rid his forehead of sweat and used a tissue to gently dust away the crystallized mucus in his tear ducts. Before you had the opportunity to assist him in laying flat on the cot, your pillow-fluffing was interrupted by the slight weight of cold metal meeting the warm skin of your neck.

A dog tag. His dog tag.

Your brain momentarily short-circuited. The gravity of the action was not lost on you, nor was its heavy implications. Not in the least.

“I’ll try. For you,” he clarified, resolutely holding your gaze, an oath on his lips, “I’ll try.”

Good enough, you thought. Because it had to be.

This would have to be enough, whatever this was. This, a fledgling, precursory thing. This, stealing moments with him during the brief lapses of warfare, hidden behind the plastic tarp covering the infirmary. This, assuaging your anxieties by catching sight of him from afar, the distance between your clinic and his barracks too vast. This, an invisible threshold, a nonexistent white line that warned do not cross. This, the space decreed by professionalism somehow both too much and too little.

This would have to be enough.

tbc.

#kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick #cod gaz #cod x reader #call of duty #cod #kyle garrick #kyle garrick x reader #gaz x reader #my fic #whumptober #fic: ‘til my pulse loses time

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l0rdgeosupport3rr · 10 months

Text

18+!!!

Tags: Zhongli x reader, non-con, dubious con, vaginal sex, anal sex

( 7/12/23 UPDATE: PART 2 )

Planet Befall

in the midst of all the carnage, there’s only one thing in your mind.

you failed. you failed to protect your country, your home. the fading screams from your fellow countrymen, the iron stench of blood—they’re not quite getting to you yet. all that’s running in your mind is that you failed, you failed, you failed.

you don’t know where your captain is, but with all the dead bodies surrounding you, none of them have a head of hair quite as light as dainsleif, which could mean he’s still out there. there’s a modicum of relief in your chest, but it’s not enough to drown everything else out.

your mind doesn’t quite clear, but finally, finally the smell of blood and rotting bodies is getting to you. if the guilt of your failure to protect khaenri’ah wasn’t enough to sicken you, surely the smell would finish the job.

‘i’m sorry to you guys…i failed as your second in command and the protector of khaenri’ah.” you faintly whisper, you notice that you’re kneeling on the ground. you look at your sword and wonder, ‘would it be worth it to keep going? do i still have a purpose if my country is no more?’

your grip tightens around your sword as you attempt to ground yourself—if you can’t at least do the job you and the rest of the knights were assigned to do, you can at least use whatever remaining strength you have to fight to the bitter end.

you don’t know what happened to the rest of your squad. worst comes to worst, they were annihilated like the rest. you and dainsleif, whose exact whereabouts are currently unknown, are the only ones remaining, and as much as you want to cry, you can’t.

you snap out of your thoughts and feelings, and you slowly get up from the ground. ‘why does my sword feel heavier than usual? am i having second thoughts?’ you notice you’re trembling. from fear? despair? it doesn’t matter. it doesn’t deter you from picking up your sword and pointing it at the figure in front of you.

morax. he was massive compared to you, clad in white with accents of gold and black. his exposed arms are the color of obsidian and fade into gold, geometric lines embellishing down the skin.

this… this is an archon. an archon—one of those who destroyed khaen’riah like it was nothing. you start to shake again, but this time it’s out of rage.

he lets out a dark chuckle as he looks down at you, and it only serves to fuel your anger. “this is getting interesting...” he muses, and his amber eyes glow with curiosity.

without thinking, you lunge at morax and ready your sword to strike, but he doesn’t even flinch when it hits him square in the chest. instead, the sword shatters, and your eyes go wide in shock. before you can even react, he reaches his arm out, grabbing your neck and lifting you up. you cough, kicking your feet as you struggle to get out of his grasp, that in return only made him grip harder.

“insolent brat. you dare disrespect the almighty geo archon?” he asks while squeezing your neck. your coughing grows erratic and when you see your hands are around his wrist, you notice the size difference. your smaller hands try to pry his larger hand off your neck, but he replies by squeezing even harder. he stares at you with a scowl.

he relinquishes his hand from your neck, leaving you to fall. you land on the floor with a loud thud, followed by your gasps for air, and you feel sweat bead at your forehead.

morax stares at your heaving form, laughing maniacally. “ah, you mortals are so interesting and so weak and so… inferior,” he states with an amused tone. you slowly get up from the ground, still heaving.

despite knowing your efforts will be futile, you take out your dagger and throw it at morax. the damn bastard dodges, but you consider it a minor victory when the dagger grazes his cheek. morax takes his hand to touch the fresh wound, then retracts it from the wound to bring it into his sight. his eyes go wide with anger as soon as he sees the golden blood on his fingers, and amber irises dart over to you.

“a mere mortal dares to do this to an archon?!” he extends his arm and backhands you, hard. his slap causes you to fly a few meters back, and to fall unceremoniously to the ground. a familiar copper taste floods your taste buds and you lightly rub your cheek before spitting out the blood.

“seems you’re not so mighty now, archon. it seems that you’re the inferior one,” you sneer. enraged, morax picks up the dagger next to him and stalks toward you, clutching it tightly in his fist. You frantically try to scope back when you notice the figure enclosing the distance. unfortunately, morax teleports next to you, causing you to scream. he stops your attempt to escape with a foot on your chest, pinning you harshly to the ground. you coughed again as a response, and morax only presses down on you harder. you closed your eyes and turned your head to the side, suppressing your screams so you don’t give him the satisfaction of knowing you’re in pain.

“that’s no fun,” he presses his foot harder into your chest again.

you gave in and you screamed.

“music to my ears,” he laughs while twisting his foot into your chest with a big maniacal grin. finally, he stops twisting his foot around and takes it off your chest, and drops down on his knees.

but then, he gets on top of you, and your blood runs cold, immediately fearing the worst. “get off me!” you yell in desperation.

morax ignores you, dragging the dagger down your shirt, from collar to hem. his large hand grabs your ruined shirt and rips it from your body, and tosses it aside. out of reflex, your arm moves to cover your chest, but morax is faster—he pins your arms with one huge hand above your head. you squirm around in his hold, and he brings the dagger towards your chest and cuts your bra, discarding it as quickly as he did your shirt.

he withdraws the dagger from your chest and places it on your cheek before leaving a cut, causing you to wince. his tongue peeks from his lips, and morax leans down to your face, his breath hot against your skin. you can feel him lick the blood slowly oozing from the wound, and your face contorts from disgust.

you spit at morax, “archon scum, you’ll never break me.”

“you little shit,” he snarls, “you need to be taught a lesson on respect.” morax moves away and tosses the dagger aside. with that same hand, he grips your scalp, nails digging into your skin. he forcefully lifts your head up as he rises to his feet so that you’re on your knees while he stands above you. you fight against morax’s strength, despite the futility.

“the more you fight against me, the more i’ll want to snap you in two,” he grins as he peers down at your struggling form. “your thrashing is useless, yet it’s amazingly entertaining.” morax pushes down his pants and pulls out his flaccid cock.

you desperately claw at morax’s wrist, trying to free yourself. this only serves to enrage him more as he forces your head up to face his cock. you grimace at the appendage and instinctively you move away from his cock, but he stops this by pushing you closer to it.

“you have one job, knight of khaenri’ah. suck my cock and make me hard so i can defile you.” he orders you, his grin from earlier replaced by an apathetic gaze.

“fuck you, i’ll never let that happen! i’ll kill you and all the other archons!” you spit.

“my, my, what a dirty mouth you have on you,” he sneers.

he takes his cock in his hand and drags it across your face, chuckling darkly all the while. you hold back your tears of frustration while being humiliated, keeping all the words you still want to hurl at him all to yourself—you know there’s no point in wasting your breath.

morax’s amber eyes fill with a mixture of lust and hatred while staring at your half-naked, smaller form. as he drags his cock against your face, you can feel it start to harden. you feel a wet sensation smeared across your lips, and you cringe at the newfound feeling on your face.

‘is that precum?! this depraved archon is getting off at this cruel behavior?!’ you internally scream. morax smacks his cock across your face, snapping you out of your thoughts. this… foreign feeling of his hardening dick plopping across your cheek makes you want to cry but you can’t give in. you can’t.

no matter how used you feel right now, no matter how filthy he’ll make you feel once he’s done with you, you can’t—you won’t give him that satisfaction.

‘i must do this for khaenri’ah. i must be strong for my country and my fellow knights. i can’t let this dishonor me,’ you think to yourself, and the thought alone brings you a sliver of comfort.

another slap pulls you to the present moment—this time, however, it’s harsher and you notice his cock is fully hard. morax lets go of your hair to push you to the ground, and he presses his large hand onto your chest. he materalizes a dagger out of thin air with pure geo energy.

“these have to go now,” he places the dagger tip on top of your pants, and slowly drags it down, just as he did with your shirt and bra. without thinking, you kick the dagger out of his hand in an attempt to preserve your dignity in the names of the royal knights and khaenri’ah.

in response, he angrily rips at your pants, then your panties. “the knights didn’t teach you manners, did they?” he asks rhetorically.

you try to close your legs, the last barrier between him and your virginity and dignity, but he pries them open with ease. he gives his cock a few pumps while lining up at the entrance of your slit. a stream of desperate, “no, no, no!” and pleas of begging falls from your mouth as you dig your nails deep into the ground to move yourself back. your fingertips are bleeding from the harsh friction.

morax steadies your hips with a grip harsh enough to leave bruises. “ah-ah-ah, no running away, little knight,” he taunts you with a sing-song voice. he moves you to the tip of his cock, before forcing himself into your entrance.

with a pained cry, you thrash underneath him and swat at his hands, but it does nothing to deter him as he continues to push into you.

you scream and thrash for your captain, hoping and wishing to see him magically appear to save you from morax. ‘captain… help me… please!’

“so tight,” he grunts through gritted teeth. you scream and yell as tears swell in your eyes, and you continue to scream until your voice becomes hoarse. you can feel it as blood trickles down your legs, and through your blurred vision, you can see the gold, white and black colors of the archon hovering above you.

you hate him. you hate him. you hate him.

morax groans with satisfaction as he finally bottoms out, and you feel so full.

so full, so wrong. so dirty. this can’t be happening.

without giving you time to adjust, he begins to move, and the cruel bastard starts slowly, like he’s stretching this out for as long as he can. you groan from the pain of the stretch.

“this is the tightest pussy i’ve ever had in all the women of this godforsaken nation.” he mutters against your neck before biting, eliciting another pained noise from you, and you note that his teeth are sharper than any normal man’s. he sucks and licks onto the area until he can see a hickey form; once he’s satisfied, he moves around your skin, leaving a trail of hickeys and bite marks in his wake.

‘did he do this to other women too…?! how despic- ‘ before you can even finish that thought, he delivers a hard thrust. you can’t stop yourself from squirming, trying to keep your mouth shut.

“oh? nothing to say, little knight?” he taunts. “when did you get so shy all of a sudden, darling?” his large hand captures your breast and gives it a firm squeeze, causing you to squeak. he continues to fondle with your breasts and plays with your nipple until it hardens, in which he hums in satisfaction. at some point, he leans down towards the nipple and sucks on it. another mewl escapes you, and he harshly bites the pebbling skin.

your cunt tightens around him, and morax groans, “such a little whore for khaenri’ah, despite being a virgin.” he lets out a haughty laugh as he places his hand on your neck and aggressively thrusts. you notice his pace is getting erratic.

“i’m so close, already, i’m gonna cum in you and dispose of you like the trash you are.” a pang of fear hits you square in the chest, but before you can cry out, his grip around your neck tightens. you start to cough, your lungs squeezing for air.

morax’s breathing starts to get heavy and you notice him heaving and slowing down. “take my seed you filth,” he snarls, loosening his grip on your neck, and you try to thrash, but to no avail. no, no, no, if he cums inside, you’ll—!

“not inside! stop!” you cry, shaking your head, but it’s too late; morax stills and you feel his cock twitch inside of you, flooding you with an unfamiliar warmth. you feel your tears swelling up before falling down your cheeks as he cums inside you.

no, no… you feel so full…morax lazily thrusts a few times to empty himself out into you. he pulls out, his cock still hard and covered in your blood and fluids and his semen. a mixture of blood and cum trickles out of you, pouring on the ground beneath you.

“i’m not confident that you learned your lesson in respect just yet” he spreads your pussy open to see his results, and you can hear him click his tongue, unsatisfied.

“brats like you must be taught respect,” he takes his cock and positions it against your asshole.

‘no! he’s not going to do what i think he’s going to do, right?! do archons just have a lot of energy…?!’

“morax, please have mercy—” you’re cut off by the feeling of his tip pushing into your ass. you sharply inhale and try to close your legs.

morax lets out an annoyed sigh. “did you not learn anything whatsoever from the last round?” irritated, he pries your legs apart and puts you in a mating press, your thighs flush against your chest.

“put me down!” but he cuts you off again, forcing himself inside your ass. you let out a scream and tears stream down your face. you sob as morax forcefully pushes inside to bottom out. morax bottoms out and groans. he starts moving immediately and you beg him to stop, but as always, your pleas fall on deaf ears.

he covers your mouth as he continues to thrust into your ass. “that’s better,” he muses, and his pace continues to speed up.

‘is he about to cum again?! that quickly?!

suddenly, he slows down to angle at a certain spot inside of your anal walls. your groans of discomfort are muffled by his hand.

“i think you’re getting better at showing me the respect i deserve, brat.” he says, and you profusely nod your head, not out of genuine respect but from wanting this to be over quickly. your eyes are red from crying, stains of dried tears and snot all over your face.

“say you like getting fucked in the ass by morax. say it! say it little khaenri’ahian,” he grits. out of defiance, you remain quiet underneath him, giving him a glare.

irritated, morax pushes your thighs against your chest even closer so he can go deeper inside of you, angling his cock in a way that makes you moan lowly, the glare disappearing. a small low chuckle reverberates from his throat.

“so it seems you do enjoy being used huh? you’ve served your purpose well.” you lay beneath him, looking fucked out because of him.

morax peers down at you, triumphant at his success at breaking you. “this is the result of godless arrogant nations who think they’re better than us.” he snarls in between thrusts. “the heavens will fall upon you and wreck havoc.” he continues to thrust at that particular angle, causing a string of mewls and moans to fall from your lips.

your voice is hoarse from moaning, screaming and yelling, and you don't have anything to lose at this point. you’ve accepted your fate, whatever that is, and you accepted khaenri’ah and its people, history, culture, and even you will be forgotten. that you failed your duty and your people and friends, and most importantly your captain.

‘dainsleif…’

these thoughts make your tired, irritated eyes produce more tears. you’re brought back to the painful reality by a familiar twitching feeling inside of you, followed by the feeling of fullness and warmth. morax, once again, lazily pumps himself a few times make sure to empty himself. he remains inside your ass, and you can feel his cock soften within your walls.

he pulls out, his cum spilling out of your holes. your pussy and ass twitch from the emptiness and the stretch of the geo archon’s cock. morax collects himself as you lay there, putting his flaccid cock inside of his pants without much ceremony. you close your eyes and mentally say your last goodbyes and apologies and you embrace death with one final sigh.

i’m sorry. live on, captain.

you feel him put his larger hand over your neck. he states “ mortals never fail to amuse me with how easily they can break. even the strongest ones like yourself.” he gives your neck a squeeze, and just like that, he snaps it like it’s nothing. that is the very last thing you feel.

humming satisfactorily, morax leaves a gold geo symbol on your mangled neck before getting back up and walking away from your corpse.

…

dainsleif is the one who finds your lifeless body. eyes wide in horror, he rushes over to your corpse and notices the dry snot and tears stained onto your face, your misshapen neck, the marks left on your soft delicate body, your torn and scattered clothes around the area. the smell of iron and copper, along with the smell of lingering sex, hits his nose, and he realizes.

you had faced off against an archon, and paid the price for it. dainsleif bites back his tears as he looks down and sees the mixture of drying blood and cum between and on your thighs. he was too late—if he had been minutes earlier, he could have saved you.

dainsleif starts to shake, feeling the tears rolling down his face. he bends down and leans in to whisper to your body, “i’m so sorry that i failed to protect you.” he places his forehead on yours and closes his eyes, and as caresses your cold hand, he notices the ring he gave you as a gift for your promotion into second-in-command was gone. you were so careful with your belongings, so that would mean…

‘which archon would do such a despicable thing to you?’ he ponders.

a short while later~

dainsleif’s face was pale, eyes red from crying, voice hoarse from screaming and yelling in anger from his failures. he hears footsteps approaching, but doesn’t react even when they increase in volume. the steps stop behind him.

“who’s there?” he asks in a hoarse quiet tone, and a short blonde boy walks over.

“is that…?!” he asked in shock, materializing a khaenri’ahian royal guard flag in his hand. he clutches his hand with the cloth in it and he bends down to dainsleif, clapping his hand on his shoulder. “i’ll take care of her. i’ll be gentle.” he says in a gentle manner. he gives his shoulder an empathetic rub. the boy seems apologetic for his loss.

“i’m sorry that this happened…” the boy starts, “but you have to be strong for yourself and khaenri’ah. [name] wouldn’t want to see you like this. we both know she didn’t deserve this, and i promise we’ll get revenge against the monster who did this to her.”

dain nods. “thank you, aether.” he reluctantly lets you go and aether gently guides him away from you. he materializes a flower out of thin air, using his abyssal power—an inteyvat.

dain places the flower down next to your cold body, and both bend to cover you with the cloth. while covering you up aether noticed a faint small glowing geo symbol on your mangled neck and his eyes widen with realization, then rage.

‘did the geo archon do this?!’ after an eternity of internal battle of debate, aether decides not to tell dain to save his feelings, and his and [name]’s dignity. to save whatever pride of khaenri’ah was left.

they both get back up after dainsleif places the flower on top of your covered body. “here, [name],” he says softly, “my one last gift to you, it’s your favorite flower.” he gives your covered face one last caress and gets back up.

aether bows his head as a sign of respect, and both remain silent for a moment, staring at your covered body with the flower on top. “we’re sorry for failing you and khaenri’ah. i swear i will one day bring this nation back to the glory it once was.”

both men walk away from you, letting you rest peacefully.

—

“…and that was apart of the reason why your sibling wanted to join the abyss order.”

“wow… we’re really sorry to hear that, dainsleif, we didn’t know that happened to you.”

the floating girl solemnly says, and the blonde female traveler next to her had a sympathetic look on her face after hearing the story.

“...it’s all in the past now,” dainsleif quietly says with a thin lined lipped expression, then falls silent and looks down at the sumeran soil. the blond traveler, lumine, realizes that dainsleif needs to be left alone right now.

“let’s give him some space, paimon. i’ll go buy you some snacks.” lumine says softly, beckoning to paimon with a hand before turning back to dainsleif.

“we’ll be back later! thanks for everything, dainsleif.” paimon waves at him. “[name] was so lucky to know a reliable guy like you, ad may she rest in peace. we’re here for you if you need anything.” she and lumine notice a small smile across dainsleif’s face.

while walking around for the snacks she’d promised her companion, lumine stops at a flower shop and looks at a particular bouquet of flowers. the flowers are white and have five petals, but in each flower, one of the petals is a pale blue.

‘those are the ones dainsleif described,’ she thinks, and she decides to purchase them. then, after some more walking, lumine pipes up.

“hey, paimon, you know the ring dainsleif described that he gave [name]?”

“yeah! wasn’t that the ring mr. zhongli was wearing? how did he even get that, and should we even tell dainsleif? doesn’t he deserve the closure of finding out who did that to her?”

“of course he does, but we have no proof besides knowing about the ring. if we do that we could be endangering him and ourselves. he needs to find that out on his own.”

“oh…” paimon frowns, crossing her arms.

“one thing that bothers paimon is that how could an archon do that stuff to a mortal? even though khaenri’ah was a godless nation… poor [name]... she didn’t deserve that.”

both lumine and paimon are sick to their stomachs just thinking about it. silence befalls them and leaves a lingering thought in their minds: ’what else has been erased or altered from history? and what else do we not know about teyvat?

paimon waves her tiny arm in the air. “dain, we’re back!”

dainsleif turns to them and nods, acknowledging their presence.

“we got you something,” lumine holds the flowers to him, and shock flashes across his face.

“are these…” he takes the flowers from her gratefully. “thank you traveler and paimon. would both of you like to come to the ruins of khaenri’ah with me and place these on [name]?”

“aww, of course, dain! we would love to!”

the three arrive and walk to the spot dainsleif described having found your body. the makeshift shroud is tinged from age and fairly dirty with some holes, but otherwise it seems to be in semi-good condition. lumine and paimon pay their respects from afar while dain puts the flowers on top of you.

“paimon wonders how your brother dealt with the fall of khaenri’ah…” paimon says sadly.

lumine is silent, looking over at dainsleif’s crouched form over you before glancing over at paimon, then back at the khaenri’ahn ruins. she recalls her time in sumeru, inazuma, liyue and mondstadt, then ponders over her future adventures. throughout this train of thought, one singular thing stands out in all the jumbled feelings and thoughts, echoing loudly.

‘who is the true enemy in tevyat? and the journey aether mentioned that he partook in… is this the journey he talked about? and am i on the right side of history? what is the truth of teyvat? and most importantly, will i ever see aether again?’

#genshin impact headcanons #genshin x reader smut #zhongli smut #zhongli #morax x y/n #genshin morax #dainslumi #dainsleif #aether #reader death #angsty #paimon #size difference

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springdandelixn · 1 year

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Summary: Sheriff Bodecker is always there to save you even when you think he isn't.

Warnings: non-consensual touching, allusions to noncon, gun violence, abuse of power & verbal abuse.

Characters: SoftDark!Lee Bodecker x F!Reader, Dark!Bucky Barnes

A/N: This is written for @the-slumberparty's Warm-Up: One Word Drabble and the word I got was 'Harass'. And of course, my mind immediately went to these two for some reason and I rode along with it. I hope I did it justice though but oh well.

As always, a drabble this may be, your feedback is highly encouraged, and reblogs would be appreciated. Enjoy! ❤️

It was only supposed to be a quick trip to Martha’s farm, picking up the strawberries she picked for your grandmother in hopes to turn them into one of her famous pies. You should have brought your bike, you thought as you made your way back, to make the journey back and forth quicker. It would have saved you some time, and most of all, it would have saved you from James who now has you pinned against the trunk of a tree at the side of the dirt road.

You clutch the basket of berries tight against your chest, staring down at the red skin and leafy tops of the fruits if only to avoid those oceanic eyes his. As handsome as they may seem, they hide something darker underneath, and just the thought of him showing you that side makes your body shiver in fear.

Beads of sweat form at the side of your neck and forehead as his hot breath fans against your skin along with the stolid summer air. He’s so closer, closer than he’s ever been for the months he’s been bothering and harassing you wherever you went, even to the point of bringing along his buddy, Steve, just to get a hold of you.

You do your best to fend him off, keeping to the square where anyone can be a witness to his misdeeds. But at times he’d catch you alone, you make it a point to run as fast as you can, shouting for help when you reach your street or making your way to the steps of the police station where Sheriff Bodecker readily threatens him away and being kind enough to give you a ride home just to keep you safe.

But now, there’s nowhere to run and no one to save you. And with the way James grins dangerously down at you, you know he’s got you right where he wanted.

“It’s just one kiss, doll.” James drawls as he keeps his eyes on you, visibly flinching when he places a hand on your hip. “That’s all I’m asking.”

“Please—” You whimper, hugging the basket tighter and pressing yourself further against the trunk when he leans closer. “Leave me alone.”

“How can I do that when you look so delicious?” There’s a smirk on his lips when he takes a berry from the container, wrapping his lips around the fruit before taking a bite and making lewd noises as he chews. “I wonder if you taste just as luscious as that berry.” He whispers, a tear escaping your eyes when he lowers his hand and slips it underneath the skirt of your dress, his fingers tickling your bare thigh. “Or maybe you taste sweet—”

The beep of a siren cuts him off and your body goes rigid when James growls from the interruption. He turns away from you, his hand slipping from your dress as he faces the unexpected visitor.

Dirt and rock crunch underneath the wheels of the patrol car and you release a huff of relief when you see Sheriff Bodecker step out of the vehicle as soon as it parks. You try to escape as James’ attention is taken away but a yelp of surprise leaves your lips when you feel a hand grab your wrist and tug you back against the tree, your basket of berries dropping to the ground and scattering on the dirt.

“What are you doing out here, Barnes?” Sheriff Bodecker calls as soon as he steps out of the vehicle, his arms resting against the open door and his head tilting to the side when his eyes land on you. “But most importantly, what are you doing out here with her?”

“None of your business, pig!” James spits.

“Is that how you speak to a law enforcer?” There’s amusement in the sheriff’s voice.

“It’s how I talk to assholes that put their noses where it doesn’t belong!”

“You okay there, sweetheart?” Sheriff Bodecker asks you, ignoring James who is fuming. “This boy bothering you?”

“Y-yes—”

“You shut your fucking mouth!” James snarls at you and you make yourself smaller as fear completely takes over your entire being.

“Now now. Let’s all calm down.” Sheriff Bodecker says as he steps away from the vehicle, his hand parting his jacket to reveal the pistol stowed into his holster. “You let the girl go and no one gets hurt.”

“Fuck off!” A yelp leaves your lips when James tugs you away from the tree, panic surging through your veins when he walks away and drags you with him.

You try to tug your hand away, digging your soles into the dirt to stop him. But he’s too strong, pulling you like you weigh nothing and you try to look back at the sheriff to beg him to help you. But before you can set your sights on him, a loud bang echoes through the barren fields and you fall on your ass when James suddenly releases you.

A groan of pain fills your ears as you cry and curl yourself small against the dirt, a measly attempt to protect yourself. You then startle and look up when you feel a hand rest against your shoulder, your eyes meeting the sapphires of Sheriff Bodecker when he crouches down, his hands moving against your arms as if checking you for any injuries.

“You alright, girl?” He asks and you nod silently, taking his offered hand as you try to pull yourself up. But your knees buckle, and your body shook with how things unfolded so quickly. And before you meet the ground once more, Sheriff Bodecker lifts you in his arms, grabbing onto his uniform to steady yourself.

“You fucking shot me!” James shouts on the ground as he clutches his thigh, blood staining his jeans and hands. “I’m going to tell—”

“Who? Your father?” The sheriff mocks. “The Rogers? They know better than to believe some stupid kid's lies and your buddy Steve won’t even be able to convince his old man to believe you.” Sheriff Bodecker nears him and you hide your face when you see the way James looks up at you, anger painted on his face. “You clean up your act boy or that won’t be the only thing you get from me.”

Before James could even retort, Sheriff Bodecker turns away and walks back to his cruiser. He settles you down gently on the passenger’s seat and buckles you in, his hand resting on your upper arm before giving it a squeeze.

“Let’s get you home. Your granny must be worried sick.”

James hasn’t shown his face ever since Sheriff Bodecker shot him. You know it was wrong for a law enforcer to harm a civilian but deep down, you’re thankful that he did. That he arrived just in time to save you from whatever misdeed James had in mind.

Sheriff Bodecker came by that next morning with a basket full of berries, your grandmother expressing her gratitude to the officer by letting him in and packing him a bag of her freshly baked cookies. You told him he didn’t need to replace what you lost but the smile on his face and the way he pats your cheek makes you retract your words, agreeing to him instead and promising him a strawberry pie when he visits next.

But one visit becomes two then three and you notice that the officer makes his presence known almost every single day; his cruiser rolling into the driveway and that distinguishable knock he does when he climbs the steps of your porch.

You ask him why he keeps coming over, not to be rude, but simply out of curiosity.

He looks up at you after taking a bite of the pie you made. “Well, I want to make sure you’re safe, sweetheart.” His grin widens, wiping his lips clean from the filling before he continues.

“With me around, no one will harm you again.”

#lee bodecker #bucky barnes #lee bodecker x reader #bucky barnes x reader #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #lee bodecker au #bucky barnes au #the guardian #coconut bun stories #the devil all the time #mcu #dark lee bodecker #dark!lee bodecker

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1-800-zombify · 7 months

Text

I’ve got my eye on you

Mullet!Padawan!Obi-Wan x Enby!Padawan!Reader

Warnings: Reader being a lil thirsty, Obi-Wan has a mullet 😩, reader’s 🤏 this close to ditching the Jedi Code

Summary: Y/N hasn’t seen Obi-Wan in a while, but when they finally catch a glimpse of him — they almost go feral.

SOMETHING HAD CHANGED IN Y/N, some could say something was unlocked. On the surface, the Jedi may assume Y/N’s discipline and loyalties were being tested, truly. To Y/N’s observant and keen master, it was hormones.

When the master-padawan duo walked the temple’s perimeter and ran into Obi-Wan, the conclusion was insanely evident. At the end of the hallway, he was just a beige blob with Jedi robes that fanned out with powerful strides.

“Who is that?” Y/N asked, faintly gesturing towards the approaching figure.

Their master tilted her head, squinting at the tall apprentice. She chuckled, “Obi-Wan Kenobi, Master Jinn’s padawan. Have you not met?”

Y/N’s brows shot up. Their fellow peer was meters away, but close enough for Y/N to make out the softness in Obi-Wan’s eyes, the metallic lightsaber handle attached to his belt, and his hair.

“Obi-Wan?” They whispered with mild surprise. As the said padawan passed by the pair, Y/N immediately craned their neck, following Obi-Wan’s unfamiliar silhouette.

The master laughed wholeheartedly, affirming their inquisitiveness, “Yes, that is in fact Obi-Wan.”

Y/N was shameless. They stopped dead in the hallway, turning to watch Obi-Wan practically strut until he disappeared down a corridor. The sounds of his heavy boots were long gone, but the ghost of him was still fresh in Y/N’s memory.

There was something so different about him, it was alluring and exciting. Last time Y/N took a good look at Obi-Wan, he was a significantly shorter teen with a scrappy buzz cut. Years ago, he was the annoying, reckless, immature boy that was shunned from being taken in by another Jedi Master.

But this Obi-Wan was refined. He easily towered over Y/N and their master. There was confidence, borderline arrogance, that Y/N could pick out in his relaxed posture. His hair had grown out into a shaggy mullet, his jaw squaring and freckled with moles.

Y/N was amazed. His existence only lived in idle gossip amongst other apprentices, but Y/N had never paid much mind to those. Seeing the change made Y/N believe that maybe… straying from the Jedi Code wasn’t too bad…

“Obi-Wan,” they repeated in an astonished mumble, earning a knowing but exasperated sigh from their master.

"Do not be enamored by his good looks, young one, for that is not the Jedi Way."

"Yeah, I know but..." Y/N bit their cheek, tilting their head as they tried to envision Obi-Wan strolling down the corridor again. "Damn," they uttered to themself.

"Y/N, Y/N, Y/N," their master tutted. She shook her head with mock disappointment, the decorative beads in her hair clinking from the subtle motion. "I taught you better than this," she sighed.

They blinked hard, turning to the Jedi Knight with a huff, "You did not."

Her thin dark brows arched. "Just as I were to suggest talking to Master Jinn..." she mused.

"He has nothing to do with this."

"Well, I was gonna ask him and his apprentice to join us on our next mission, but seeing how you —,”

"I am grateful," Y/N began suddenly. They took a dramatic inhale and continued, "I am grateful that the Council assigned me to you when I was a youngling. I thank Maker everyday for sending you to me."

She stared blankly at them, "Okay, Y/N."

"I would break the Jedi Code for you, Master,” Y/N whispered, pressing a tender hand over their heart and clutching the fabric of their robes. “Just say the word."

In one motion, she pushed past Y/N and slowly increased her stride, forcing her apprentice to follow in tandem. “Haha,” she mumbled. “I’ll see what I can do —,” she cleared her throat loudly, jabbing Y/N’s side harshly. “But no funny business, do you understand? You can admire him from afar, but do not fly too close to the sun."

"Of course, Master,” Y/N nodded, subconsciously rubbing the side of their stomach tartly. They shared a one-sided toothy grin. "Don't wanna melt from his hotness,” they added jokingly.

"May Maker have mercy on you.”

time skip

In his camel-colored uniform, Obi-Wan brushed past his peers congregating around the cafeteria entrance. He froze in thought and in step, scanning the lunch room that bubbled with chatter.

Y/N wanted to be subtle with their fixation. With their rowdy group of friends surrounding them, the location to which Y/N’s eyes fell was easily drowned out.

And then Obi-Wan looked directly at Y/N, and they had glanced away so quickly. Their neck almost snapped.

Kriff. Kriiiifff.

Y/N ducked their head slightly and slouched to an atrocious degree. They awkwardly scooted closer to Prie, who comfortingly patted their back unbeknownst to why they acted so sheepishly.

“Are you gonna eat that?” Ropal pointed his fork at the dried fish on Y/N’s tray, daring to just snatch it from them.

Y/N shook their head, inching the plate towards him. Ropal hummed a meek thanks, stabbing the silver prongs into the meat.

“Hey!” Jape pushed Ropal’s greedy hand away, as he seemed to scoop up half of Y/N’s lunch. “The fish — only the fish, Ropal,” he snapped. “Why’re you always stealing their food?”

“I’m not? Y/N said I could have it.”

“You’re taking all of the rice.”

Y/N was mentally groaning and kicking their feet in anger. Could they just shut up for a second? Y/N was trying to watch a certain apprentice across the lunch room. Jape and Ropal, Ropal especially, had the tendency to jump on the bandwagon regardless of what it was. If Y/N seemed to be spying on someone, then they’d start spying on that person, and it would all go downhill.

Y/N squinted. Obi-Wan was weaving through the crowded maze of tables, muttering apologies as he bumped into chairs and shoulders. Who did he usually sit with? Who was he looking for?

“Y/N?” Prie nudged them. “What’s gotten into you…?” Prie tilted her head, trying to follow Y/N’s precise gaze. She scoffed, “Oh, don’t tell me…”

“Shut up,” Y/N snapped, pushing the side of her face the other direction.

Prie pretended to smile, “You’re kidding.”

“It’s nothing,” Y/N groaned, turning to properly look at their friend. Prie mockingly nodded in agreement, tapping her calloused fingertips against the tabletop. “It’s nothing,” Y/N repeated affirmatively.

“It would be really bad if it wasn’t,” Prie commented. She propped her arm up, leaning her chin into her palm. “And I don’t really believe you,” Prie said in a singsong tone.

Y/N frowned, “Why not?”

“Hey, Y/N.”

Y/N whipped their head around, eyes blooming into large saucers, as their heart began to palpitate. They were face to face with Obi-Wan, a new reinvented Obi-Wan. He was gorgeous.

“Hello there,” Y/N squeaked.

Obi-Wan smiled, sliding into the seat across from them. He crossed his arms, leaning onto the table. “I was looking for you,” he stated.

“You were?” Y/N choked, sitting up straighter. They picked up a utensil, prodding at their food, trying to occupy their awkward hands.

“Of course,” Obi-Wan said, earning a skeptical look from the other members of the group. Prie coughed, waving Jape and Ropal’s attention away from the end of the table. “I overheard our masters talking about an upcoming joint-mission — to Vena, I believe. I just, uh, wanted to let you know.”

“Ah, well, thanks.” Maker, give me strength. Oh my god. Y/N pursed their lips, the best solution to containing the childish urge to giggle.

“Do you want to research together? I think it’d be very beneficial —,”

“Yes!”

Obi-Wan’s bushy brows raised a few centimeters. He chuckled at their enthusiasm, nodding. “Right. I’ll see you after training then,” Obi-Wan says.

“Yeah,” Y/N mumbles, watching him stand and walk away.

#star wars #obi wan kenobi #x y/n #padawan #padawan!obiwan #enby!reader #obi wan x reader #padawan!reader #obi wan fanfiction #star wars oneshot #obi wan my beloved #mullet!obiwan #star wars x reader #i deserve mullet obiwan #fanfic #qui gon and obi wan #obi wan star wars #obiwan kenobi #obiwan x y/n

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