#I HAVE NEVER THOUGHT SO MUCH ABOUT VOYEURISM IN MY LIFE OH MY GOD | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hoseoksluna · 6 months

Text

STEAM | myg ft. jjk

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

genre: smut

word count: 9.2k

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

playlist: steam / pinterest board: steam

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Showers with him are something else.

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

That has become your new version of hot long showers.

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

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

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

You feel him everywhere.

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

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

That’s a good girl. Messy for me.

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

It’s a part of the solo girl's night.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Naked.

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

And with that, he hangs up.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You made Yoongi drink a lot of water.

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

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

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

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

Your leg jitters harder.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your arousal returns at full speed.

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

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

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

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

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

Yoongi coos. “Good girl.”

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

“Can I feel how wet you are?”

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

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

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

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

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

You grin at him. “Sorry, Yoongi.”

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

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

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

The only answer you emit is an uncouth whine.

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

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

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

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

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

“Spank my pussy again, please.”

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

“Apologize first.”

“You didn’t tell me how.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Roses, opening. Roses, sighing.

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

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

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

Such a stark, sudden change.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Keep your legs where they belong.”

“No.”

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

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

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

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

“You want to get fucked by someone else?”

A question for a question.

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

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

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

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

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

Truthfulness, at last.

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

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

You fight against it.

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

And you decide to repeat history.

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

The breath Yoongi inhaled hitches in his throat.

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

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

And then, you collect your essence again.

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

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

Yoongi growls. Then, he surprises you.

He parts his lips for you.

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

You’re in charge. And it feels divine.

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

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

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

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

And then—then he manhandles you.

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

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

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

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

You gulp, frozen, eyes widening.

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

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

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

Yoongi pulls back, setting your hands free.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yoongi has had enough.

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

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

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

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

You moan his name, gone—entirely gone.

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

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

“You, Yoongi, you. Fuck, I—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

With that, he hangs up.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yoongi loses his mind.

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

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

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

But you don’t let him take charge.

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

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

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

You hold onto his neck with your dear life.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And it’s you who checks up on him.

“You sure you’re okay with this?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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sunnycanvas · 1 year

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Baldwin iv x Reader Smut

Throne Sex

Warning: Exhibition sex, slight lactation kink, breeding kink and voyeurism

Baldwin iv had felt like happiest man alive. He always wanted to marry someone and have children. He adored his nephew and wished he had his own but sadly Baldwin iv doubted if he is capable of having children. Also not to mention leprosy was thought to be sexually transmitted disease. A punishment from god but that was ridiculous! He never had sexual intercourse with women, he had also never fallen in love before! All his time he dedicated were to his studies, horse riding and swordmanship. How he wished to have a companion. Since he knew he couldn't have children he atleast wanted a wife. No noble man was willing to give their daughters and no woman wanted to marry him also his ministers warned him that it won't be socially acceptable for him to marry since leaporsy was thought to be sexually transmitted. He vowed to live in chastity. He didn't have much of choice anyways. Until he met you. You accepted him . You were aware that his condition won't make it possible to have children with him You were aware of it and accepted him as he is, how rare was it to find someone who genuinely loved him for who he is and didn't judge him as a person who had been cursed by God. Meanwhile you were a person who believed that God loved everyone no matter how they were, you never believed what others told you and made your own judgement, when you learned about leaper king. Your heart pained thinking about poor boy who had to suffer and was harshly being judged. You prayed for the holy land and you prayed for him. When you learned about how he won against saladin in a battle and how much despite his struggle was able to boost morale for his knights you grew to admire him but as you learned more about him you started to fall in love with him. Oh! How you wanted to be his bride and take care of him and be a nice a queen of Jerusalem. Someone who could stay with him and some one whom he could depend on, you requested your father that you wanted to marry the king of Jerusalem.

Your father was shocked "But don't you have ample suitors already some of them king themselves, why would you want to marry a leaper" "God has already shown his divine judgement on him" "He would die anyways within short period of time also you wouldn't have children with him what would be the point in marrying him" you didn't listen but kept pleading your father. Your father was stubborn in his decision so were your other family members. You tried getting help from close relatives but in vain. In desperation you tried contacting distant relatives but alas! The result was same. Except for one ambitious distant relative named Reynold de chatillon who wanted more power decided to use his political power and ended up convincing the king in marrying you. Baldwin iv was beyond enthralled to finally have a wife. To finally have some one whom he could spend his life with he quickly demanded your potrait and when he saw your potrait he was spellbounded . You were beyond beautiful. "A god's gift" he thought . That day he went to church and thanked the gods for giving him support and love. He ensured to get married to you as quickly as possible. He was caught often daydreaming of you. People close to him noticed and started to tease him but he didn't care. He was finally going to have some one as his wife. Before the wedding day he hardly slept. On the wedding day he was happy to finally to marry you. He was shy and you giggled at his shyness. He wanted to break the silence and asked"Where are your parents and siblings my love?" "Also I can't seem to find your relatives here" after hearing this you chocked back your tears and Baldwin iv immediately felt bad. "Nobody came since they don't support this marriage" "My only relative who supported this union couldn't show up". "He said he had his reasons." Baldwin iv internally chewed his cheeks since he suspected he knew what the reason was, Reynold de chatillon was probably at home drinking and celebrating his new found power. Baldwin iv decided not to think of it.

It's not like you are interested in power or throne you are only interested him. Someone who genuinely loves him. He was feeling shy under your gaze and excused himself for drink. He was happily drinking until he overheard his nobles gossiping "Isn't it obvious that this was a power grab move by Reynold de chatillon" "I am suprised that king couldn't realise it" another noble said that "leprosy is probably effecting him badly" "It must have reached his brain as well, he barely pays attention these days" third noble who joined their conversation added "Let's not forget that the king is so weak that he is going to be dominated by his wife" all three of them laughed at this and added how the king was unable to unite barons ever since his sister Sybilla married Guy of Lusignan. Also there were rumours how Raymond iii always secretly wanted the throne but the weak king who banished him knew he needed him so he welcomed him back to court. Baldwin iv was hurt after hearing this conversation. He also felt that about Raymond and banished him from court but remembered that he was only one capable to fend off guy until Baldwin v came of age so he made him regent for his nephew. He once again fell into his insecurity and thought "who would love him" internally. Perhaps you were forced to marry him by his ambitious relative.

He had few more drinks until his face flushed.He was walking staggeringly towards you. Before he reached you his tutor William of tyre stopped him. "You must remember to do your duties tonight" Baldwin iv after hearing this looked at him shocked and said "who would want to perform their duties with a decaying rotten body" his tutored looked at him furious and said "Your grace, you must try to understand that their are no suitable candidates for your crown" "Guy of Lusignan is can't help, your nephew is too young and also you don't have suitable relatives to take your crown as well as a result it is important to do your duty as quickly and effectively and possible or else we will loose this kingdom to your enemies as a result all of us present here will witness you consummate your marriage, by any miracle if your bride happens to be pregnant we will know for sure that it is yours" by now Baldwin iv had tears in his eyes being aware enough about the implication of those words. His tutor realising he made a mistake was about to apologise but he held up his hand to silence him. Immediately his shut his mouth and gave his king congratulations and left. Now Baldwin iv continued walking towards you staggeringly hoping no one would interrupt him this time. He still had hope that you would be different. He also wanted to do his duties as the rightful king of Jerusalem. He loved his country and wanted to retire early but alas! Nobody was capable enough to rule in his place which forced him to remain on throne. He desperately walked towards you seeking your warmth while reminding himself to fulfill his duties as king tonight and try to get you pregnant

You were happily chatting with some noble ladies until you realised that your husband was walking towards you with difficulty. He nearly fell before he reached towards you but quickly grabbed him before he hit the floor. You looked at him worried that made Baldwin iv happy to have some one care for him. Until he heard other nobles mocking and laughing at king for being weak and being dependent on his wife. Baldwin iv was furious. Meanwhile you having no idea what was going decided to check the temperature of king seeing how flushed he was, before you could touch his forehead the king grabbed your hand and stood up. You were confused by his behaviour, suddenly he pulled you closer by waist by another arm and the king started to kiss on front of everyone. Your heart thundered with joy and you forgot about everyone else in room. Baldwin iv noticed his tutor looking at him dissaprovingly but he said "I am the king" "I get to do what I want" "I will rail my bride in front of everyone and you will watch" Some nobles tried to flee the room but he ordered them in low voice"Stay" every one gulped and watched their king. Baldwin iv again started to kiss you but this time roughly and pushed you against the wall. He continued kissing you until he realised that you no longer can breath. Consumed in his drunk lust for you. His hands slowly went down and began playing with your breast you were both shocked and aroused to be fondled by your husband in front of everyone, for some reason you enjoyed it. While playing with your breast your husband whispered "Soon they will be filled with milk and you will be nurturing our babies" "I will watch you while you feed our baby knowing that I was the one who made you give birth to our children". He pulled your gown down enough for your nipples to exposed and started sucking on your nipples. "I wonder what it taste like" you chocked on your moan hearing this. You suddenly came out of your trance and noticed everyone staring at you

You were consumed with embarrassment and Baldwin iv noticed. Feeling jealous that others have you attention he stood up to gaze in your eyes grabbed your jaw. Making you look at him. "Don't you dare pay attention to other men while you are with your lord husband" . He said this time while playing with your pusssy over your clothes. You started moan his name out until you soon realised you were in public and started staring at other men. Baldwin iv hated when you looked at other men while he pleasured you. You were supposed to look at him! He hated loosing control of you in this situation. "Weak king" suddenly a voice echoed in his mind. He was no weak king, he thought. He grabbed you by arms and pulled you towards his throne. He threw you on his lap your ass on lap and making you lay like todder. You sqeaked and Baldwin iv said "this is your punishment for being disobedient to your lord husband" he continued spanking you while others watched astonished at their king. After he was soon done with your spanking he asked "Will you again be disobedient to your lord husband" after hearing this you replied both aroused and embarassed"No my lord". "If you disobey again you will regret it". You swallowed down your moan and replied "Yes my lord". Baldwin iv smilled at you and said "good girl". "Now strip facing me " you were embarrassed to do it in front of everyone but you had no choice and stripped. You were stripping slowly. "Faster we don't have all night" replied Baldwin iv. You quickly stripped in front of him now you were as naked as day you were born. Baldwin iv satisfied commanded "Come closer" you quickly walked towards him so that you don't anger the king. Baldwin iv was satisfied with your obedience. It has been so long he was finally feeling in power again. "Now strip me" your entire body felt heated up at suggestion but since you didn't want to anger the king you started stripping him with your trembling hands. You quickly removed his top.

You were at awe at his beautiful milky white skin. "He is well built man" you thought after seeing his muscles. You wanted to touch him but since you didn't want to anger the king so you decided to go against your wishes. You worked at his pants next and pulled his pants down. Now the king of Jerusalem sat in front of you nude in his throne. You were badly aroused at this point. Your legs trembled and you were leaking at the sight of the nude king sitting in front of you in his throne. Soon your legs gave out and you fell on ground on all fours. "Suck your king" he commanded. Without much hesitance you started you suck his cock. Baldwin iv was grateful that he could feel your mouth and started moaning. Meanwhile the nobles look at them with embarrassment while some women commented how their husband never make them moan like this. Some noble men were embarrassed at hearing their wife's comment. While some were green in envy knowing full were that their wives were lusting after king. Baldwin iv looked at scene in front of him with pride. He truly felt like a king at that moment. It truly felt good to be in control of the situation after so long. He soon moaned and came in your mouth. You happily drank his cum. Baldwin iv adorned how you drank all his cum without wasting a single drop. You truly wanted him. His heart filled with joy when he came to realisation. "Sit on my lap while facing me" he commanded. You quickly sat on his lap with his penis slowly gliding inside your vagina. Without a second warning he started thrusting inside you. He was going so rough! You loved every second of it. He kept on pounding inside your pusssy until he soon came. You moaned Baldwin iv named loudly for the whole whole to hear. You could feel is seeds getting inside your womb. Without giving you time to rest he turned you while sitting on his lap so that you were staring a nobles. He started thrusting you from behind. You moaned and arched your body.

Exposing your breast and vagina stuffed with Baldwin iv's cock. Baldwin iv enjoyed knowing he claimed you in front of everyone and continued thrusting inside of you in front of everyone. He penetrated you with his cock again. You slumped with your back forward and head down showcasing you were tired but Baldwin iv wasn't he soon started thrusting inside you with same position. You wanted to protest but couldn't dare to since you didn't want to disobey your king. After an hour of having sex on throne and cumming several times. You finally had courage to ask "My lord, please show me some mercy it has been an hour" Baldwin iv hearing this he replied "I am sorry love but I can't feel any sensation in penis" you both knew it was a lie. You also knew that Baldwin iv was getting hard again after cumming inside of you every time . "My married life is going to be so fun" Baldwin iv thought while thrusting inside you making you cum again and you begging him for mercy. "This is going to be long night" you all in hall thought as the night continued....

#Kingdom of heaven #baldwin iv x reader #king baldwin iv #kingdom of heaven 2005 #imagine Baldwin iv #Baldwin iv #kingdom of heaven fanfic

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binsito · 1 year

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I literally love your fics so much. They be having my toes curling n shit😫I was thinking about how skz would get caught having sex. I just think about getting fucked by one of the members and then somebody walking in 🤗 (I totally don’t have a kink for this) (I’m lying) (I totally don’t want you to write an ot8 thought about this) (I’m lying again)

oh god.. YUMMMMMMM (it's okay anon... me too) i took some creative liberty with these so not all of them are explicitly about getting caught in the act but playing with the idea of it possibly happening due to something risque hehe

warning: usage of pet names such as "baby", "good girl", "princess" as well as degradation such as "stupid slut," etc. han's story deals with stepcest but they are adults and their parents married each other, there is themes of exhibitionism and voyeurism in all of them for the most part, unprotected sex, dirty talk, oral (m and f receiving) in some, hyunjin's story deals with him being an ex and you encountering him again while on a double date, minho has very slight themes of dubcon, please let me know if i missed anything major.

again these themes are not for everyone so please skip if uncomfortable but remember to not kink shame and respect others, thank uuu!!!

bangchan: "shut up, stupid slut.. they're gonna hear me fucking you dumb if you keep making noise!" he grunts in your ear. he had you over his desk, hand around your throat as he took you from behind.

his pace going agonizingly slow whenever he thought you were being too loud just to punish you.

but the thing is..

channie wouldn't mind getting caught. the mere idea had arousal coursing through him. what if changbin popped in saying he forgot something only to see chan balls deep inside you?

or what if jisung needed to work on some lyrics?

maybe chan would ask him to stay until he finished so he could help him out, not minding the extra pair of eyes. maybe the pretty sight would inspire him to write the best lyrics of his fucking life.

if that's what it took to get over the occasional songwriting block, channie had no issue letting his boys catch him pumping you full of cock.

minho: leeknow doesnt care one bit if someone walks in

if anything it makes him fuck you harder.

“you swear they won’t be back till later, baby?” you ask him, of course he says yes, swears on his life even.

but you knew better than to believe him, he lied straight through his teeth.

when he has you on all fours, face buried in your cunt, he can’t help but grin against your pretty little pussy knowing his friends would be home soon.

sheathing his cock deep inside you because you kept whining for him to just put it in already.

“whatever you want, princess..”

and you should’ve known he was up to no good because more often than not, he would make you work for it. he liked to tease you, have you beg, cry until you couldn’t take it anymore.

but his cock was just too good for you to care, happy that he had a change of heart for once and was fucking you into his sheets so good.

you couldn’t hear the door creak open over your moans, couldn’t feel curious eyes peering on your puffy cunt and how it was sucking minho in so perfectly.

minho was putting on a show for his friends, pretending like he wasn’t aware they were watching, grabbing a fistful of your hair to pull you back slightly, your back arching for him. he couldn’t wait to fill your pussy for everyone to see. he hoped they saw how dumb you were on his cock, that they would think about you when they touch themselves later.

changbin: changbin never knew how turned on he would be after being caught until it happened. it never crossed his mind that the thrill would make his cock swell with excitement.

hyunjin thinking he was gone and going into his room only to see you riding him on his rolling chair.

changbin warned you!

told you hyune was probably home and painting one of his pretty flowers.

told you to shut up if you wanted to take his cock or he would pull out, but he got so lost in the feeling of your warm walls around him that he totally forgot about keeping quiet himself.

hyunjin simply wanted to put back something he borrowed but was met with the two of you, changbin's pace not relenting after being caught. hyunjin couldn't move from his spot by the door, watching as changbin whimpered that he was going to cum.

and hyunjin was mesmerized by the thick ropes of cum spurting and spilling out of your hole, how changbin desperately tried making you keep it all. maybe next time changbin would invite hyunjin to watch for longer, maybe even paint what he sees so he could add it to his figure drawing portfolio.

hyunjin: fuck, you wanted him.

wanted him so goddamn bad.

so bad that you were willing to put aside all your morals for this man.

you knew you shouldn't.

shouldn't let him whisper all those tempting promises of pure fucking pleasure, not while you sat across your date. hyunjin was an ex who was unfortunately best friends with the guy you had been seeing. it was nothing serious as of now, quite casual. you weren't even sure how far this relationship would go but as soon as hyunjin offered to skip dinner and go straight to dessert, you threw away any scrap of dignity you had left and excused yourself from the table.

hyunjin followed suit a while later, leaving behind the girl his friend had tried setting him up, way more interested in what you had to offer. things didn't end badly between the two of you per say, but you both had a lot of maturing to do. the relationship was fiery and you knew it was too much too handle so early on in your life.

now however, all you wanted was his lips to work on your clit while your date waited outside cluelessly.

"missed me?" he mumbled into your folds before nipping them teasingly.

"shit.. hyunjin w-what if he-"

but he just smiled, knowing you didn't want him to stop either way.

"don't worry princess, i'll make it quick if you behave.. just bear with me."

you knew better than to act like a brat right now, you didn't even know how much time you had before your date would start to suspect something was up.

hyunjin licking at your hole with the thought of being caught all added to your intense orgasm. creaming all over hyunjin's tongue as he lapped it eagerly. there was nothing he loved more than the taste of your sweet cum.

"everything alright in there?" your date knocked which made hyunjin quickly cover your mouth.

instead of stopping, he decided it would be the perfect moment to pull his slacks off and line himself up with your hole.

"y-yes! i-i.. fuck.. be out soon!"

han: if your mom knew what you were doing, she'd absolutely lose her shit.

the same would go for han jisung's father who now happened to be married to your mother.

this wasn't the kind of bonding they anticipated the two of you would have when they planned a weekend family trip once summer classes let out.

but to your defense, they never explicitly stated what kind of bonding was or wasn't allowed. you gave yourself the liberty to interpret it as you wished.

your wish being getting fucked stupid while your parents went out for a stroll on the beach early that morning. thank god they thought it would be a splendid idea to make you two share a room while on vacation.

jisung had woken up with morning wood and you wanted nothing more than to take it in your mouth. you wanted to feel how hard it was deep inside you. and han jisung would be silly to turn down the offer. ever since he laid eyes on you, he wanted to have you bent in every position he could imagine.

but you had to be quick.

god knows when your parents would be back.

you two didn't waste any time.

legs thrown over his shoulder so he could carve his cock deep inside your pussy, hands squeezing your tits together and watching as they spilled from between his fingers. they could be home any minute now but han jisung wouldn't stop until he came inside you and left you full.

and he was going to do it all over again once they'd go to bed. he might even prep you beforehand, fingering you under the dinner table without anyone having a clue.

felix: you were needy and felix had decided to be mean and go live on his instagram.

how could he?

all you wanted was to play with him a little before bed..

you were very explicit with your desires, letting him know beforehand that you wanted to have sex. you knew he was doing this on purpose to mess with you.

however, he had no idea that you would get on your knees in front of him, pulling his cock out from under his shorts to take him in your mouth.

he knew he couldn't react.

couldn't make a scene in the middle of his live and alarm anyone watching.

fuck, if only they knew how good you were working on his cock while he tried talking about what he had for lunch.

felix would never live it down if people found out what was going on (however, it was making his toes curl thinking about how clueless everyone was, how he could easily give himself away with a moan or if you decided to suck on him a little too loudly).

and when he cums, he tries so hard to play off his facial expressions as a yawn, but in reality he's creaming in your pretty little mouth, gripping your hair to hold you all the way down to his base

"g'night everyone.." hastily ending the live so he can teach you a lesson.

seungmin: it's not your fault your brother's best friend was so incredibly hot.

you were well aware how upset he would be if he caught you two, but he just doesn't understand!

he wouldn't understand how fucking amazing sex with seungmin was. how spontaneous and confident he was.

seungmin was bold.

seungmin was unafraid.

he'd ask you to sit besides him during movies so he could play with your pussy under the blanket, all while your brother sat mere feet away.

he'd ask you to give his cock a quick suck if he was in the kitchen grabbing a beer and you so happened to be there at the same time, your brother patiently waiting for him back upstairs.

but today he had gotten the idea to fuck you behind the baseball field's bleachers after he had finished practice.

your brother had gone to his truck to load the equipment back and seungmin just had to have you before he was back.

"come on.. trust me." he purred in your ear.

you knew your brother had his hands full at the moment, too busy making sure the pitching machine was strapped in properly to keep it from sliding in his trunk.

so you took seungmin's word and trusted him like you always did. his thick cock breaching your tight hole, no matter how many times he fucked you, the stretch always made your legs buckle.

his big hands gripped your hips as you clung to the bleacher for dear life. cock pumping mercilessly into you and leaving you stuffed.

his cum dripping down your legs just as he could make the faint figure of your brother approaching from parking lot.

you hoped he couldn't hear the both of you going at it from over there.

jeongin: he was bored out of his mind.

who's idea was it to take a school trip over the weekend? thank god it was his last semester and he would be done with all these class commitments for good.

the trip was long and exhausting but at least he had you.

there weren't that many students on this trip because this was a higher research class and most people would rather have a life outside of college. you being jeongin's girlfriend, pushed him to try a little harder before he graduated.

how could he say no when you motivated him with such a sweet smile? when he saw how interested you were in your major and how hard you worked? jeongin wished he could be a little like you sometimes, so disciplined and curious.

by now most people had dozed off, at least the bus was one of those nice coach ones.

jeongin just couldn't fall asleep no matter how hard he tried.

"baby?.. we still have three more hours until we get there.. why don't you just take a nap?"

"don't feel like it.. not tired.."

he could be such a kid sometimes, never wanting to take naps. it made you giggle as you shook your head

"stay up with me a bit, baby?.. everyone's asleep.."

god, you knew exactly by the tone in his voice what he was thinking of.

"jeongin-"

"just lay on my lap and pretend you're sleeping.. we're in the back, i'll keep an eye out. no one's gonna know.."

before you could even agree, he was already pulling his cock out just enough for you to be able to suck on him.

just like the good girl you always were to him, you laid down as comfortably as you could and took him in your mouth.

dropping him out of your mouth whenever you thought you heard any shuffling but jeongin would reassure you and guide his cock back through your pretty lips.

"relax baby.. just be good okay?.. that's right.. give me that mouth of yours.." he groaned quietly once you started to sloppily bob on him.

please refrain from reposting, modifying, translating, copying or stealing my work. - © binsito

#binsito #skz smut #stray kids smut #skz hard thoughts #💌 : binsito #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz x reader smut #stray kids x reader smut

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geralts-yenn · 2 months

Text

Fairy tale

Modern AU Melot (Tristan&Isolde) x OFC x Mike (Hellraiser)

summary: Mike, Mel and Nina celebrate their first anniversary

warnings: 18+, minors dni! polyamorous relationship; bisexual partners; vaginal sex; maybe voyeurism/exhibitionism, but I don't know if this is really a thing that needs a warning within a polyamorous relationship; masturbation, vaginal fingering; use of a butt plug, anal sex (m/m)

word count: 4,2k

A/N: I feel like those three have been living in my head for decades already but exactly one year ago, I published Hearts Too Big

So, happy anniversary!

There's a tiny quote from a story in there that isn't my own, but I think the original author doesn't mind ;)

Inspo board

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

My heart won’t stop racing in my chest, no matter how calming the surroundings should be that are flying past me. I steer my bike around the corners of that gorgeous mountain road, but neither the stunning views we get to see nor the clean air that smells like forest can distract me from my rambling thoughts.

My gaze falls onto the mirror, focusing on the bike behind me. I can’t see much of them. Their helmets hide their beautiful faces. But still my heart constricts as I realize once again that those wonderful two people are mine. Something I will never get my head around.

Exactly one year ago, they had put me through hell and then showed me heaven. I will never forget that first kiss I shared with Mel at that beach, and how Nina kissed me only seconds after. It changed my life in the best way possible. I never even dared to hope that I would get to be that happy in my life.

So that’s why it is so important to me that everything this weekend is going to be perfect. I still can’t believe they trusted me to organize our anniversary trip completely alone. They really must love me. Or they are insane. But the latter is probably mandatory for the first to happen.

As soon as I killed the engine and put the bike on its stand, I cross the few feet between me and Mel’s bike and when Mel pulls his helmet from his head, I press my mouth on his. I don’t care if he needs air because I need him so much more. My fingers lace through his curls, and I all but devour him. Mel answers my desperation with a strangled moan into my mouth. God, I love this man.

Finally, I pull away, searching for Nina to get a taste of her, too, but she is already gone. Mel and I both chuckle when we hear her excited screams.

“Oh my god, babe! There’s a hot tub. And a fire pit. And the view over the lake is so beautiful!”

Mel gets off his bike and walks up to Nina, pulling her to his chest. I follow him and hug both of them from behind, pressing my lips on their necks one after the other.

“You’ve outdone yourself, Mike! How did you find this?” Nina turns her head, her eyes full of love as they find mine.

I only grin and shrug. I don’t want to tell them right away. We have the whole weekend to talk. And do other things.

And that’s why I rather grab Nina’s jaw and kiss her hard, like I wanted to do in the first place.

After I have my fair share of kisses that I needed after hours of being alone on my bike, I finally go and grab our stuff and unlock the door of the cabin.

“Try not to get naked for another thirty minutes, peanuts! I’m still waiting for some groceries to be delivered.”

Mel presses a kiss on my cheek and pulls one of the bags from my shoulder.

“As if you’d care if anyone saw us naked,” he teases. And yeah, he is right. I don’t care at all. I know they are mine.

I lean against the wooden walls of the cabin, the guitar I found in the living room in my lap. It’s a beautiful instrument, and it is tuned perfectly. The whole cabin is like it was made for us. It is so cozy, but not in a tacky way. I have to admit, I am impressed with Mikey. He’s done a good job planning our weekend.

My fingers brush over the strings as I play some chords without even thinking about it. My whole focus is on my two lovers, who are giggling and kissing in the hot tub, a few feet from me. They asked me to join them, but right now, I am happy sitting here in the sun with the guitar and just watching them.

Maybe that’s a little creepy, but sometimes I like being an observer. I can’t get enough of seeing them so happy together. It makes my heart sing.

Mike pulls Nina on his lap, and now they are making out like there’s no tomorrow. I can see they are about to lose control any moment. Nina is moaning and Mike's hands are everywhere.

Like I predicted, Mike gets impatient and manhandles Nina to get on her knees. Leaning on her elbows on the deck, I have a perfect view of her tits. But what’s even better is the way her face changes when Mike presses into her. It’s a perfect mixture of desire and love, and I am totally aware that her eyes are fixed on me.

There’s no way I can focus on the guitar any longer while I watch Mikey thrusting into Nina with increasing intensity. He leans down over her, his hand on her throat. I wish I could hear the words he whispers into her ear through gritted teeth.

I put the guitar down and, instead, my hand slips beneath the waistband of my shorts. I free my cock and start to stroke myself. Adjusting my rhythm with Mike’s, I’m going slow at first, but then I increase my pace when he starts to pound into our girlfriend faster and harder.

They are both loud, and their moans and grunts only fuel my own lust. I can barely hold back my release, but I don’t want to come just yet. So I ease my grip a little and try to focus on Nina, her half-lidded eyes, her teeth digging into her plump lip. She’s so beautiful like this. Mike raises his head and flashes a big smile at me. The asshole winks and doesn’t turn his eyes away from me as he talks to Nina, this time loud enough for me to hear.

“Show him how you look when you come around my cock, baby!”

Mike slams into Nina’s pussy like a madman, his grip on her hips so tight, I know she’s going to show some marks later. Nina’s screaming, rolling her eyes, her whole body shaking. This is it. My own orgasm rushes through me so hard, my vision blurs as I shoot all over my hand and chest.

When my breathing is back to normal, and I open my eyes again, I see the two of them are back to kissing. I get up, letting my shorts and boxers fall to the floor. Looking down at my sweaty, sticky chest, I decide I need to cool down. So I walk down the stairs to the small wooden dock. After checking the waters, I jump into the lake. It’s cold, but not freezing. Nina is going to hate it, but that doesn’t stop me from calling her and Mike to join me.

I take the plate that Mel holds out to me and dry it, then put it back into the cabinet. Mel grabs my towel to dry his hands, so I guess we’re done with the dishes. Mel and I gladly offered to do them after Mikey had spoiled us with the most delicious dinner we had in a while.

I round the kitchen island and sit down on the floor, where Mike just finished preparing our board game on the small coffee table. I take my cards, but the moment I want to check them, Mel drops next to me and leans in for a kiss.

“Hey, no cheating!” I tell him as I push him away, and he has the audacity to look fucking cute as he pouts at me. I move a few feet away from him, hiding my cards, because I don’t intend to let him win tonight. Mel’s a sore looser and I enjoy kicking his ass very much. Mike grins at me as if he could read my thoughts. Which he probably can, he knows us both so well.

To prove my point, he asks: “Ready to make Mel cry, Nina?”

His signature smirk is plastered on his handsome face. I hold my hand up for a high five as an answer.

Mel shakes his head playfully. Then he gets up again and pulls his shirt over his head, suspiciously slowly. Mike and I both groan in unison.

“You are playing unfair here, Mel, and we haven’t even started yet.” Mike complains. But Mel tuts at him and points to the flames flickering in the fireplace.

“I wouldn’t have to strip down if someone…” he uses the strategic pause to turn his gaze to me, “...wouldn’t be that cold all the time. But as long as we have to put up a fire in the middle of July, you two have to endure the pain of seeing my naked chest. I’m deeply sorry.”

Two hours and three wins over a very grumpy Mel later, we move to the bedroom. The bed in here is nowhere as big as the custom-made bed in our apartment, but I don’t mind. I’m sleepy and don’t care if I have to sprawl over my two boyfriends in here. They’ll live.

Mike is already snuggled up inside the covers. He looks cute as a button as he tries to hide the yawn that slips him when I crawl into his arms.

I’m already half asleep when Mel joins us, but his efforts to fit into the bed wake me up again. He apologizes, even though it’s not his fault. Mike lets out some adorable sleepy noises and then tells his boyfriend that he should read fairy tales to us to make up for the disturbance. I’m pretty sure he’s just joking, but nevertheless, Mel picks up my book from the nightstand and opens it.

He scans over the lines and lets out a small chuckle. I remember where I stopped reading earlier and have to admit it puts a little heat on my cheeks. Mel clears his throat and starts to read in a voice, even deeper and more gravelly than usual:

“He drags your panties to the side and two fingers slip into your pussy with embarrassing ease. “God, kitten, you’re so wet already,” he groans. “You’re such a perfect little slut for Daddy.” All you can do is moan while he pulls his fingers out and moves them to your clit. The tight circles he draws around the swollen little pearl make you writhe your hips, leaning into his touch as he keeps rhythm and pressure steady at an intensity that’s just shy of enough to make you come.” *

Mike is groaning next to me and whispers into my ear: “That’s the fairy tales you read all day, baby? With a straight face? You’re killing me!”

And while Mel continues to read, I feel Mike’s cock growing harder against my ass. All of this has just as much effect on me, so I arch my back to press into him. Gladly, Mike takes the invitation. He turns me to lay on my back and presses my knees apart. The same way as Mel had read moments ago, he drags my panties to the side and brushes his fingers along my slit.

Soon, I'm a withering mess, Mikey’s finger pumping into me, his mouth hungry on mine. But then Mel’s voice stops abruptly, and the next moment Mikey is gone, and instead I have Mel’s tongue exploring my mouth. He bites into my lip, then pulls back so he can look both at Mikey and me.

“I thought you two were tired? I'm trying to make you fall asleep, but that doesn't look like you are about to doze off anytime soon!” Despite the scolding words, Mel's tone is amused.

Mike chuckles. “Babe, if you wanted us to fall asleep, you should have chosen a different book.”

Mel turns to Mike with a devious grin on his face.

“Well, so if you’re both awake again, you two could pay some attention to me now. I already let you have some time for yourself in the hot tub.”

The memory of what we did out on the deck earlier makes my pussy clench. Mike feels it around his fingers and moans in response. But his eyes are locked with Mel’s.

“I wouldn’t have minded if you had joined us,” he tells him, and Mel’s grin gets wider.

“Yeah? You need some dick?” he asks, his voice raspy.

I rather feel than hear Mikey’s breath hitch before he answers:

“I do!”

Mel gets up on his knees and pulls down his boxers. His erection slaps against his abs.

“Then help yourself!” he says, his smirk now going from ear to ear.

Mikey lets out a needy whine. He licks his lips as he moves his mouth to Mel’s middle. A gentle lick from the base to the tip lets Mel shiver.

“I think someone is done with the solo action for today,” I tease. My fingers circle my swollen bud as I watch them.

Mel’s look falls on me and he groans. I don't know if it's a reaction to what he sees or to Mike’s hollowed cheeks around his cock. I don't care. It's hot.

Mel lets us play for another few moments, but then he pulls Mikey up to him for a hot kiss. They whisper into each other's ears, and then they both turn to me. Oh, I think I’m up for a good time.

Mel crawls up to my side and pulls my top over my head. The moment the girls are free, his mouth is on one nipple, sucking hard. His fingers take care of the other one and I gasp when he pinches and rolls it.

To add to the sensations, at the same time, Mike drags my panties down my legs. In seconds, he's between my widespread legs and runs his length through my folds.

I whimper and moan. They are teasing me, Mel with his mouth and hands, Mike with his dick. He drags the tip slowly around my entrance, up to my clit and back again.

I lift my hips impatiently, but Mike doesn't give in. It takes Mel to interfere. He turns his head to watch for a moment, before ordering:

“Get into her already so I can give you what you wanted in the first place, Mike.”

That does the trick. Mike slams into me and I let out a cry of pleasure. While Mike starts to move inside me, Mel gets up to stand behind him.

“Wow, Mikey, you really planned every aspect of this trip,” he says, chuckling. I can imagine what he's talking about, and when a butt plug lands on the bed, I get my confirmation.

“Are you ready to take me?” I hear Mel and the answer is groaning from both of my boys.

Mike stills his hips and I hear the telltale sound of lube getting squished out of the bottle.

Then it's the increased tension in Mike’s body and the twitching dick inside me that let me know what's going on. All three of us moan in unison as Mel pushes inside.

Some rustling wakes me, and I blink a few times sleepily to adjust to the brightness. It must be early morning because the room is filled with golden light. When my sight gets more focused, I start to smile. I am greeted by the view of a very sexy tattooed chest, rippling muscles accentuated by beams of orange falling through the curtains. What a pleasant way to wake up. Almost as nice as the way I fell asleep last night.

For a moment, I think about greeting Mikey, but then I decide against it, watching silently as he pulls his shirt over his head. Yeah, creepy, I know. But I can’t help it. I don't want to ruin this peaceful scene.

Mike apparently hasn’t noticed I’m awake because he turns and tries to step down the stairs as noiselessly as possible. Which isn’t very noiseless - because it’s Mikey.

Yet, when I turn to the other side, I see that Nina is still fast asleep. I kiss her on her temple and then try to get up without making noise, myself, with more success than Mike. I wander into the bathroom, take a quick shower and brush my teeth.

When I go downstairs, I find Mikey leaning against the open patio door. I step behind him and wrap my arm around his waist, resting my hand on his chest. He feels warm and firm and my heart expands at the sensation of it. Mike nuzzles into me as my lips brush over the light stubble of his throat, while I breathe in his scent.

“Hey!” he greets, his voice still rough from sleep.

“Hey yourself!” I press another kiss on his neck. Then I raise my eyes to look over Mike's shoulder. The sun is rising over the lake, painting the surroundings in warm colors.

“It’s so beautiful. Perfect. I don’t know what you had to do to get this cabin, but thank you.”

Mike turns his head to me, one eyebrow raised.

“Do you imply I prostituted myself for this?”

I can’t tell if he’s amused or offended, probably a little bit of both, but anyway, I need to apologize because this wasn’t in any way what I meant to say.

“No! Never! Sorry! It’s just - this must have been expensive. You didn’t have to do this. You don’t have to spend your savings on us.”

Before Mike can answer me, we hear footsteps and then Nina is next to us. She wriggles in between us and brushes kisses over Mike’s and my chest.

“Hey, is there a possibility to get some coffee?”

Mike takes the invitation to run off without answering me and pours three cups of coffee. Running around the kitchen, adding sugar and cream for Nina and a disgusting amount of sugar for himself, he seems to be fidgety, noticeably so, even for Mikey.

I fear I actually hurt him with the stupid remark and open my mouth to apologize once more, but Mikey grabs the mug handles and steps out onto the deck with our coffee.

“Come on, peanuts, let’s get down to the shore.”

Nina and I exchange a look, but then we follow him down the stairs to the lake. There’s a wooden patio set and Mike drops the mugs on the table, only spilling a little bit of coffee. Nina and I sit down, waiting for Mike to join us, but he’s not interested. Instead, he walks up and down along the dock.

“Mike!” Nina calls. “For the love of god, would you sit?”

I don’t even know why I’m freaking out again. There’s nothing that should get me that nervous. Those two people who are watching me right now like I’m nuts, they love me. I don’t know why, but they do. I don’t have to worry about anything. If I learned anything in the last year, then it’s that I can open up to Mel and Nina. So I finally do what Nina ordered me to do and sit down next to them.

“Sorry!” I grab my coffee and drag out the moment a little longer by taking a huge sip. Of the coffee that is still fucking hot. They both watch me incredulously as I swear.

“I need to tell you something!”

Nina’s eyes go wide and Mel jerks back. Yeah, great start, dickhead! Now they think I cheated on them or some stupid shit.

“Don’t panic, it’s nothing bad - I think.” They both visibly relax, though they still look confused, so I go on.

“A few weeks ago, Tom called me.”

“Your brother?”

“Yeah. I didn’t take the call at first. But he didn’t stop calling and texting. So I thought it must be something important.”

Mel interrupts once more, more concern on his face than should be, ever. “Everything okay with your parents?”

I let out a sad laugh. “Like I would care?”

It’s harsh, but it’s the truth. And honestly, I’m glad I’m at a place now where I don’t care anymore.

I must have been quiet for too long because Nina flaps with her hands in the air, a quizzical look on her face.

“Sooo?”

“Yeah, uhm, he wanted to meet me. And I said okay.”

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Nina again, of course. She’s always mad that Mel and I don’t communicate enough, and she’s right about it.

“You were both working hard that day, and it wasn’t that big of a deal. I just thought I’d go meet him, listen to his bullshit, then go home to throw myself into your arms in the evening.”

”But?...”

I shouldn’t make pauses long enough for them to interrupt me.

“There was no bullshit coming from him,” I laugh. “He apologized, honestly. I mean, he was crying! For fucks sake! My super manly, super stoic, very hetero brother sat in a café with his very bi brother, showing emotions openly for everyone to see. It was wild!” I grin like an idiot, I know, but that experience was something I didn’t see coming, ever. In my family, we don't do feelings. Except for me, of course, I do plenty of feelings, all the time. But I don't count, my parents would agree.

Nina and Mike both don’t smile back, Nina even frowns.

“Still - why haven’t you told us, Mikey?” She sounds hurt. And Mel nods in agreement. Shit, I'm fucking this up again.

“Because, my brother brought me a gift. Well, not exactly a gift, but anyway. I decided to make it a surprise for you.”

I take another sip of coffee. Gladly, it isn’t hot like the seven hells anymore.

“Come on, Mike, get to the point!” Mel rolls his eyes at me.

“Sorry! So, my brother got into a fight with my parents because of me. He told them that they should support me, that I deserve to be part of the family. Shocking, I know, but apparently he must have found out he has a heart.

But of course, my parents wouldn’t listen. Then Tom said to them that they at least owe me my part of the family assets. They bought Tom a house when he got married and he also got some shares, I don’t know much about that stuff…

Anyway, Tom told them they should at least give me money to make my life easier. Which was just as successful as his first plea. My father only kicked him out and told him he wouldn’t want to hear about it anymore. But Tom felt bad for me, so he wrote them a letter threatening to take them to court on my behalf.”

Both Nina and Mel look shocked.

“You wouldn’t do this, and he can’t do it without your agreement, right?”

I nod. They know me way better than anyone in my family. I would never want that.

“Yeah, but just the threat was enough. My parents would never want to get anything about this shit go public, which would be the case if there was a lawsuit. That’s why they wrote a big check with my name on it, and they signed over one of their properties to me.”

I give them a big grin, but they still both look quite puzzled.

“My first instinct was to reject it. So I wouldn’t have to be thankful or some shit. But then I thought fuck it! Why should I punish myself by not taking what is mine? It’s not like they would care either way. And I kind of like this cabin…”

I look into their faces, and I’m glad I don’t find any negative emotions there. I was a little scared that they would judge me for taking the money. Exhibit A: my reaction to Mel’s comment earlier.

“Well, yeah, so, that cabin is mine! That's what I wanted to say. Surprise!” I shrug awkwardly.

When no one says a word, I go back to rambling.

“I spent the last few weeks remodeling it so it doesn’t look that much like ‘filthy rich assholes with a stick up their asses’ anymore and more like ‘us’.”

This finally gives me some laughs and I feel more comfortable immediately.

“Oh Mikey!” Nina jumps into my lap and presses a kiss onto the corner of my mouth.

“This means we can spend a lot more time fooling around here! Oh my god! This is going to be some fun.”

I laugh, that’s the perfect reaction.

“We can start right away, if you want,” I tell her.

Mel chuckles and gets up from his chair. He leans down to me and kisses me hungrily. Then he pulls away and cocks his head.

“One thing: can we please have a bigger bed? Nina kicked me in my ribs all night.“

I snicker.

“Yeah, I earned some nasty elbow checks, too. I thought maybe we could build a new bed like the one in our apartment together.“

“Then there's no more objections from my side,” Mel tells me before his lips are back on mine.

*) source: Under orders - part 4 by @raccoon-eyed-rebel

#mike (hellraiser)#mike (hellraiser) fanfiction #mike (hellraiser) x ofc x melot (Tristan& Isolde AU)#melot fanfic #melot fanfiction #polyamory #polycule #polyam relationship #hearts too big #bi biker boys #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill characters

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imabeautifulbutterfly · 23 days

Note

Congratulations Mimi on your 700 followers 🥳🥳🥳🥳!!! THAT IS AMAZING!

For your prompts, would either of these spark your fancy?

"I've always dreamed of watching a sunset like this." For Cody!

And/or

"Where will you go now that the war is over?" For Wolffe!

💙

Ahhh my lovely! Thank you so much @ulchabhangorm for submitting such awesome requests.

I apologize for the delay, my keyboard decided to die on me yesterday, so I had to wait for the delivery today. I hope you love these two stories for you. I'll be posting them separately.

I hope you love them.

Love oo,

Sunset

Warning: sand, annoyance, friendly banter, slight flirting, guilt, seeking forgiveness, rumours, slight touching, voyeur, I think that's all the warnings. If I miss any please let me know.

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Whether it was the heat, the sand, or maybe it was the aches from old wounds you suffered throughout your less than glorious career as a salvager, but everything in your body was screaming at you to stop and making walking that much harder. Your feet felt as though they were being dragged through sand. You stopped walking and looked down at the sand surrounding your feet. Right. You were walking through sand, it felt like you’d been walking through it for a millennia, and you’d be beyond happy if you never see another rock, bramble, or desert, beach, anything containing sand for a long long time.

God, how could there be so much sand, you shifted your clothes, feeling the little grains in between your clothes.

“Don’t fall behind.”

You glanced up to look at Cody, glaring at your relatively new companion, “Does it look like I’m falling behind?” You asked exhausted, annoyed, and at the end of your tether.

“Yes. Hence why I said, don’t fall behind.” He chuckled as he started walking again, shaking his head. When he went awol from the Empire, the last thing he ever expected was to be found floating adrift, in the ship he had absconded with; and regardless of how much effort he put into fixing the derelict spacecraft nothing helped. The hyperdrive was damaged beyond repair, and if it hadn’t been for you showing up, trying to salvage what you could, he would’ve been dead now. For that alone he would be eternally grateful.

A sigh escaped your lips as you kept trudging behind him, “You know the only reason I’m here is because you owe me for saving your life, and you said you needed to find your friend, and once you found your friend you’d be able to pay me back. However, in all that fancy talk, not once did you mention anything about trudging through this gods-forsaken wasteland of a planet. Which is not my idea of you paying me back.”

He let out a laugh, as he stopped and turned to look at you, “Cyar’ika, you know I’m good for it. I promise, I will pay you back, and I will even try and help you find your brother.”

You let out another sigh of resignation, “Fine, whatever. I’ll choose to believe in you.”

“There’s the spirit.”

“Who are you looking for anyway? I mean I know you said a friend, but if your friend is all the way out in the recesses of human cohabitation maybe they don’t want to be found. Ever thought of that?”

Cody just hummed. Truth was that ever since he heard the rumour that Obi-wan might be alive, all he wanted, no, all he needed was to find out if that was true. He needed to know he hadn’t killed his General, the man he looked up to, the man who … opened his eyes to a world he never expected.

“I have cyar’ika and honestly …” he stood on the ridge of the dune, the Jundland Wastes of Tatooine laying there before him, “it scares me to know that he might not want to see me. Things … didn’t end well between us, the last time we saw each other.”

You stood beside him as you looked out at the wasteland, “What happened?”

“I tried to kill him.”

Silence filled the air between the both of you, shock and surprise radiating off you, “Oh.”

“I wasn’t in my right mind … doesn’t excuse what I did, regardless.”

“So you’re … hoping for what? Forgiveness?”

“Maybe. Or maybe I’m just hoping that we can eventually make it back to just being friends. He was like a brother to me. Clones take brotherhood very seriously, and I betrayed his trust.”

“But you said you weren’t in your right mind.”

“Doesn’t change the fact I gave the order to fire.”

Your eyes took in Cody’s countenance, he looked apprehensive, his hands were balled into fists, his shoulder was squared off, everything about him screamed he was either getting ready to fight or he was scared. You slowly reached over and held his hand, moving his fingers away from the tightened fist.

He glanced down as he felt your fingers loosening his, he couldn’t help smile as his eyes slowly met yours. It was a simple gesture, and that meant more to him than anything he’d ever experienced before.

“If he is as good a friend as you say he was, and he viewed you as a brother too, it might take some time, but I’m sure he’ll forgive you eventually.”

“I hope you’re right, cyar’ika.”

You couldn’t help the smile that appeared on your lips, “You will have to tell me what that means eventually.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Mmm, yeah, you do. Especially if you want to keep flying in my ship,” you laughed, your smile slowly fading. “Is that why you didn’t want to fly the ship out here, afraid he’d hear the engines and go into hiding?”

“Yeah.”

You gave a slight nod in understanding, at least you were able to leave your ship with someone you trusted. If only your speeders actually lasted for the whole trip, your legs wouldn’t have been feeling like they were about to fall off.

“What do you think? Camp for the night here, and then make our way into the labyrinth of the Jundland Wastes? Or should we just try and see what we can find before night falls?”

“No, let’s camp …” he pulled out his binocs and searched the area, he pointed to an elevated rock face, the ridge line looked flat enough, “that should work, and provide us with an unobstructed view.”

“Alright,” you nodded, “lead on.” You adjusted your pack, pulling your hand away from his, following him to the campsite.

It wasn’t long before you both had set up your camp, you were finishing up the stew you were making for dinner, when your eyes fell on Cody, sitting on the edge of the cliff, his feet dangling over the edge. You passed him a bowl as you sat beside him, “What are you thinking?”

Cody smiled as he looked at you, he reached up and gently wiped away some dust and dirt from your hike, “I’ve always dreamed of watching a sunset like this, but I never thought it would’ve been possible.” He focused back on the twin setting suns, “It’s beautiful.”

Your eyes simply focused on his face, and the smile he had on his lips, your heart clenched in your chest, your breath quickened, as you watched him enjoy his freedom, feeling so much in that moment. “Yeah, it is.” You whispered, focusing back on your stew, as you both sat in silence eating your dinner, as your knees touched.

Obi-wan watched the two of you from a distance, his thumb and forefinger stroking his beard. A small smile on his lips as he saw his Commander, his friend, his brother-in-arms, happy and not alone.

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sitkowski · 2 months

Text

it's madness by design (justin morrow x ofc x ryan sitkowski for circle-with-me)

prompt request for the beloved @circle-with-me who chose violence with this one. comes from the threesome smut prompts, #1 "i see how you look at my girlfriend" and #6 "you think you could handle us at the same time?"

cw: 18+ MDNI ⚠️ threesomes, mentions of voyeurism, mentions of safewords, rough sex, oral sex (m and f receiving), orgasm delay, anal fingering (f receiving), unprotected double penetration, overstimulation, choking, spitting, aftercare.

title comes from "tailspin" by cipher sight. divider by @saradika-graphics

word count: 3.8k

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Beck arrives on a Thursday, one week before the tour is due to end, to finish out the shows with them. Justin might be a little slow on the uptake sometimes, but it doesn’t take him that long to catch on to what he sees around him. He wonders if anyone else notices, how Ryan’s eyes drift over Beck, the change in body language when they’re in the room together. Justin doesn’t think anything is going on between them, but the tension is noticeable and for some reason it doesn’t bother him. It makes him curious. Ryan’s always been objectively pretty to him, and he’d be lying to himself if he says he hasn’t thought about the idea once or twice. Ryan, Beck, the three of them.

Justin knows that he could just outright ask, but it could also just be in his head. So he decides to test a theory, while they’ve got a travel day to the next city. Everyone’s doing their own thing, the length of the tour just about wearing them all thin. When he asks Ryan if he wants to watch a movie in the back lounge with him and Beck, he sees that split second of hesitation before he agrees. If Beck senses that Justin might have ulterior motives, she doesn’t say anything about it.

She does sit next to Justin and then pat the cushion beside her for Ryan, who lingers in the doorway. “You can sit down, Ry. I don’t bite.”

“Unless you ask her to.” Justin says, almost automatically and only half joking.

Beck rolls her eyes and digs her elbow into his chest as Ryan comes and sits with them, leaving a healthy amount of space between them. Which is both adorable and unneeded, given how much this band tends to cuddle with each other on a regular basis. He looks almost panicked when Beck reaches around him to grab a blanket, tossing it over the three of them.

He lets Ryan pick the movie, and waits until everyone settles before he drapes his arm around Beck’s shoulders. His fingertips trace beneath the collar of her shirt, and out of the corner of his eye, he sees Ryan looking. Justin’s hand doesn’t move, as tempting as it is to see how far he could take this before one of them did something. Beside him, Beck turns a little, leaning into his chest while stretching one of her legs out across Ryan’s knee. Justin just barely contains the amused noise at the look on his face, as if he’s never seen a leg before in his life.

Eventually, Beck gets up to go to the bathroom. Ryan takes a grateful pull from his vape and Justin chooses that moment to say something.

“I see the way you look at my girlfriend.”

Predictably, Ryan chokes on the exhale. Justin doesn’t laugh, as much as he wants to. He knows it was a dick move. But, he’s kind of a dick. He reaches over and whacks Ryan on the back until he can breathe normally again.

“You’re a fucking asshole,” Ryan mutters. “And of course I’m looking at your girlfriend, you’ve seen her, right?”

He’s sure that Beck would like the compliment, but he’s only got a few more minutes before she gets back. “So, you wanna do something about that?”

“Oh my god, you are the fucking worst. You are not sitting here trying to set me up with your girlfriend right now.”

“No, I’m trying to invite you along to a threesome, dumbass.”

Ryan just stares at him, takes another hit off his vape, eyes narrowing. He’s obviously waiting for Justin to laugh or get up and leave, for him to do anything but to continue to stare at him impassively.

“I’m not blind, Ry. Also not deaf, by the way because I hear you in your bunk below mine when she’s in there with me. So, I’m extending the offer, if you want it. We have a hotel night tomorrow night.”

Before Ryan can answer him, the door is sliding open and Beck’s coming back in. She looks back and forth between the two of them, picking up on the fact that she’s missed something. “Everything okay?”

“Yep, c’mere.” Justin tugs on her wrist, pulling her down onto her lap and blowing a raspberry on her neck. Maybe it’s a little for Ryan’s benefit, especially when she tosses her head back and laughs, batting his hands away when they wander beneath the hem of her shirt. “We were just making plans for tomorrow night.”

“Oh yeah? What’s on the menu?”

“You, hopefully.”

“Fuck,” Ryan chokes again and this time Justin does laugh at him. “You dick.”

Beck doesn’t say anything at first, but she also doesn’t storm out of the room. He can tell she’s thinking about it. All she has to do is say no and they’ll pick out another movie, forget about the whole thing. Justin will let Ryan continue to jerk off in his bunk alone thinking about the two of them above him at night.

“You’re rooming with Rick tomorrow, right?” is what she says to Ryan, who just stares back at her and nods. Beck holds out her hand, wiggling her fingers so he’ll pass her his vape pen. He hands it to her, and she takes a hit, wrinkling her nose at whatever flavor it must be. “Okay, so just come over.”

Justin isn’t really surprised by her answer, but Ryan seems to be, judging by the look on his face. “Just like that? You’re okay with—”

“Why do you act like this is the first time we’ve done this with someone? God Ry, what is in this thing?” she asks, passing the pen back to him.

“Blueberry lemon…wait you guys have had a threesome before?”

Rolling her eyes, Beck slides out of Justin’s lap and moves over to Ryan. She leans in and kisses him and yeah, that’s exactly the visual that Justin thought it would be. It takes Ryan a few seconds to react, but then he’s kissing her back. His hand slides up the back of her neck, fisting in her hair and giving it a little pull.

“Hey Ryan, can I have your last pack of Pop Tarts?” Vinny yells from the hall.

From where Justin’s sitting watching, he can see when Ryan pulls back, dragging his thumb across Beck’s bottom lip before he goes to deal with whatever snacks Vinny’s trying to steal. He stops in the doorway, looking back and forth between the two of them.

“Tomorrow night then.”

Beck heads back to the hotel while the band is wrapping up at the venue. She showers, and just puts on one of Justin’s old Bills shirts instead of trying to make any kind of impression. It’s just Ryan, one of their best friends, who Justin intends to share her with. He didn’t have to convince her, not at this point in their relationship when nothing surprises her anymore and she knows that doing this with Ryan will be fun.

She skips her night time routine because she has a feeling she’s going to need another shower before the night is over. Before she knows it, the door is emitting the electronic beep for the key card being used, and Justin’s coming into the room, Ryan not far behind. They both obviously showered at the venue, but she can still see remnants of paint hiding parts of Justin’s tattoos on his arms, and bits of it along the sides of Ryan’s neck. Justin’s the one who throws himself down on the bed, leaning up to give her a kiss while Ryan leans against the table in the corner of the room, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

“I don’t know how this works, exactly,” he admits. “I’ve hooked up with two girls before, but never a girl and another guy. Someone’s gotta have a plan.”

Beck looks at Justin, “This was your bright idea, and while I’m all for it, he’s right. What’s the plan?”

Justin looks from her, to Ryan, and back again. “You think you can handle us at the same time?”

The visual the suggestion provokes leaves her mouth dry, and she can only nod.

“Do you guys have any rules I should know about?” Ryan asks.

It’s a fair question, at least. And Beck doesn’t think anyone they’ve invited into their bed before has been considerate enough to ask.

“You can’t spread this shit around the tour.” Beck says, even though she doubts he will. But when they both wince, she rolls her eyes. “Christ, do I even want to know?”

“Vin overheard us on the bus and he told Chris.” Justin says.

“Chris asked if he could come watch.” Ryan adds.

She can’t even be surprised by that, and gives in to the fact that everyone and the crew will probably know about this by morning. It’s not as if she’s ashamed of it or anything. Justin doesn’t let her dwell on the thought long enough.

“You got the medical clearance before the tour just like I did, so we can forgo condoms, but you can’t come inside of her.”

He says it so casually that Beck just stares at him for a minute, before she nods. Ryan nods too, agreeing.

“You guys got a safeword?”

Her eyebrows raise, and Justin smirks. “What do you think we get up to that requires a safeword?”

“I know you’re just fucking with me. I know you're into some freaky shit, your boyfriend’s got a big mouth.”

“Yeah but not on tour, it’s too complicated to try and plan shit out like that. We keep it pretty vanilla when she comes out on the road.”

“Are we gonna need a safeword?” Beck asks finally. “If so, I mean, the traffic system is always a solid choice.”

“Less for an actual something, more for in case things get overwhelming.” Ryan says and it’s explanation enough for both Justin and Beck.

Ryan crooks a finger at her. He doesn’t move away from the table, he expects her to get up and come to him. After a few seconds, she finally moves, getting up and walking over. It had taken her a while to get used to the height difference between her and Justin, so it’s almost a surprise when she’s standing in front of Ryan and actually staring at his face, not his chest. The kiss on the bus was nothing compared to when he kisses her now, tentative for a few seconds before growing into something heated and punishing that she has to try to keep up with. She doesn’t know when the switch was flipped, but she likes it. It doesn’t take her long to catch up; he pushes and she pulls, his tongue slides along hers and she meets it with her own. When his teeth bite into her lip, her back arches, a shiver crawling up her spine.

She feels Justin’s presence behind her and he presses himself into her back, effectively pinning her between himself and Ryan. He reaches down, catching the hem of the shirt she’s wearing and pulling it up over her head, leaving her bare. The cooler air in the room makes goosebumps break out all over her already overheated skin. One of Ryan’s hands wraps around her throat, just enough for her to feel the sensation of his rings pressing into her skin, and her eyes flutter closed.

“I might have told him a few things,” Justin confesses in her ear. “Why don’t you help him feel more comfortable?”

He steps back enough to give her room, and Beck sinks down to her knees. When she looks up at Ryan, he doesn’t look as unsure as he did in the back lounge the other night, not until she hooks her fingers in the waistband of his shorts and pulls them down.

“I know I’m not as big as—”

“Finish that thought,” Beck cuts off whatever self-deprecating comment he was going to make, wrapping her fingers around him. “I dare you.”

She leans in to drag her tongue up the underside of his cock, teasing over the head before pulling him halfway into her mouth. Above her, Justin leans against Ryan’s side so that they’re both watching her. Her head bobs a few times, and she lets her teeth scrape him, just a little.

“Is she always like this?” Ryan asks, voice hitching.

“Sometimes she’s mean.” Justin laughs.

Beck pulls off and bites Ryan’s thigh as if to prove a point. Before she can do anything else, Justin’s hand slides into her hair at the nape of her neck, preventing her from taking Ryan back into her mouth. She doesn’t need to tell Ryan that Justin can be a little mean too. She watches avidly as Justin leans in and whispers something in Ryan’s ear, trying not to squirm and ignoring the way that the hotel room carpet is digging into her knees. The look on Ryan’s face turns sly, and then they’re both looking at her.

“Oh yeah?” Ryan says to whatever Justin’s told him. Justin pulls a little and Beck gets up. Ryan grabs onto her jaw, and she can’t even feel embarrassed about the rush of wetness between her thighs. “Open up.”

She wasn’t sure if she was going to murder Justin for this idea or buy him a puppy, but her mouth falls open at the request. Ryan leans in, and he doesn’t kiss her, he spits in her mouth. Before she can even close her mouth, Justin is there, his tongue sliding along hers and she moans helplessly, grabbing onto both of their shirts.

“Both of you need to be wearing less, right now.”

Pulling out of their grasp, Beck moves back and sits on the bed, moving until she’s up against the headboard, waiting patiently. It doesn’t take them long to get out of their clothes. Ryan’s still got his fang necklace on and Justin hooks his finger beneath it, in between the teeth, pulling him in close. Beck’s seen him kiss Ryan’s muzzle on stage, a goofy little thing for the fans, but it’s something else entirely to watch them kiss for real now; the way they push and pull at each other. She’s pretty sure Justin gives in first, letting Ryan fist a hand in his hair and keep him in place while he licks into his mouth. Justin mumbles something to him that Beck doesn’t hear, and then they’re separating.

Ryan climbs onto the bed with her, while Justin turns towards where their bags are piled. Beck thinks that Ryan is going to come kiss her again, but he grabs her ankle and yanks, dragging her down the bed. The sudden move draws a surprised squeak from her, and she’s dimly aware of Justin’s laugh as Ryan’s shouldering himself between her thighs. She’s got no choice but to let him pull her legs over his shoulders, and she drags one of her feet up his back as he drags his mouth along her inner thigh. Beck gasps and squirms when he nuzzles against her skin, sinking his teeth into the exact same spot she did him. She starts to grab onto him, but then Justin is there, distracting her with his mouth.

He sucks marks into her shoulder, the curve of her breast. He digs his fingers into the swell of her hips, slides them down, spreads her open for Ryan’s tongue. Beck tries for a second time to touch him, but Justin gathers both of her wrists in one hand, holding them over her head effortlessly. She tries to use her legs to get Ryan closer, rocking her hips up, but he wraps both of his arms tightly around her thighs, pinning her down to the bed.

“Always so fucking bossy,” she mutters and Justin just smirks at her, keeping his eyes on her face.

He doesn’t do anything else. He just watches her, sees the way she reacts, how she’s fighting to keep her eyes from rolling back when Ryan finally slides two fingers inside of her, moving them fast enough that she can hear his bracelets rattling, feel the edges of his rings and the rough calluses on his fingers. Beck likes that he’s not trying to be gentle with her, he’s not afraid to use a little teeth. When Justin’s fingers edge in alongside Ryan’s, Beck sobs, tossing her head back into the pillows. She’s already so close, she can feel it. But apparently they’ve been having a secret conversation without her, because they both stop. She looks down in shock, sees Ryan pulling Justin’s fingers into his mouth, licking them clean.

“If I’m so bossy, you can wait a little while longer,” Justin murmurs against her temple. He passes Ryan the bottle of lube he’d brought to the bed with him. “Here. Be fucking nice.”

Beck wants to laugh at his audacity, but instead she just turns her head more so she can kiss him. She looks for a distraction, and Justin senses that. He lets go of her wrists, curling one of those big hands of his around her hip, pulling until she’s on her side pressed up against him. Ryan moves in behind her, easing her thigh up over Justin’s leg.

She jolts a little at the first feel of Ryan pressing two fingers into her ass, nudging them apart and twisting them slowly. He presses a kiss to her shoulder, gives her a minute to adjust to the feel. Justin reaches down between them, guiding his cock inside of her and she tears her mouth away from his, trying to remember how to breathe because she can feel them both inside of her. A high pitched whine crawls from her throat when she realizes that Justin isn’t going to move, he just sinks as far into her as he can and stays there, waiting while Ryan stretches her open.

“I’m ready, I promise, Ry, c’mon,” she pleads quietly. Justin kisses her again, soft and teasing and she moves restlessly, clenching down on his cock, trying to get someone to do something. “Please…”

“You sure?” Ryan asks, twisting his fingers a little more.

This time it’s Justin who curses, “If she’s not sure, I am. You’re practically giving me a handjob from inside of her. Let’s go already.”

Beck laughs, she can’t help it. But it doesn’t last long, when she feels the pressure of Ryan pushing inside her, the overwhelming fullness that robs her of the ability to think, much less speak. He doesn’t stop moving, not until he’s fully in. If she thought that what she felt before was something, it is beyond anything she’s ever had before. Dimly, she’s aware of Justin’s hand on her face, tipping her head back by her chin. Something must show in her eyes, because he frowns a little.

“Hey, what’s your color?” he asks.

“Green as your fucking hair,” she giggles, a little delirious about how she’s feeling right now. It doesn’t hurt, it’s just a lot. “Someone needs to move right now.”

Ryan is the one who takes Beck at her word, pulling almost all the way back out and thrusting back in. Both she and Justin moan at the feeling, and the next time, Justin follows and rocks into her when Ryan pulls back. It doesn’t take them long to find the right rhythm, or to stop being careful with her. Ryan’s hand comes back up to grasp the underside of her jaw and Justin’s big enough to be able to duck down and get his mouth around one of her nipples easily. She can’t move between them, can’t do anything but take what they’re giving her. And she loves it.

“You gonna come for us?” Ryan asks in her ear. He’s not choking her exactly, she can still pull in air. But then his fingers tighten, just a little. “C’mon Beck, you were so close earlier, it can’t be that far off.”

She doesn’t have a chance to give him a verbal answer, Justin’s mouth sliding over hers again. She reaches back, digging her nails into Ryan’s thigh, trying to get him closer even though it’s impossible. Her other hand fists in Justin’s hair, keeping him where he is. They move her back and forth between them, and she feels Justin’s hand slapping down over hers, simultaneously tangling his fingers with hers and grabbing onto Ryan for more leverage.

Beck can’t articulate it when she finally comes, too caught up in the overwhelming sensations. She’s aware of Justin saying something to Ryan that sounds suspiciously like “get out of her” and then Ryan’s pulling out and she feels him spilling against her ass. He moves out of the way, just barely, as Justin rolls Beck over onto her back without even pulling out of her, hips snapping into hers hard enough to move her up the bed a few inches. She shoves her hands above her against the headboard, feeling the tension in her arms.

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Ryan moving off the bed. He sits in one of the chairs, grabs his vape and takes a hit, watching the two of them. Justin grabs onto Beck’s jaw, pulling her attention back to him. He gets a little rougher, showing off, and she can’t help but smirk and turn her head a little, pulling his fingers into her mouth.

“You gonna come on my cock?” he asks, his voice a low growl. She knows Ryan still hears him anyway. “Let me come inside you?”

Beck nods, high pitched noises muffled by his fingers, and he reaches down, pulling her leg higher as he all but slams into her. She doesn’t have time to wonder what this might look like to Ryan, who’s still watching them through a cloud of smoke. Justin yanks her hips in tight, going still as he spills inside of her, and it’s enough to push her over the edge a second time. Finally, she spits out his fingers, pressing her lips to his forehead as he puts almost all of his weight on her, knowing she likes it.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Justin asks, and Beck’s brow furrows in confusion before she realizes he’s talking to Ryan. She glances over to see him grabbing his shorts to put back on. “You can’t leave.”

“I’m sure you guys are done with me by now and wanna clean up—”

“Get your ass back in this bed, Ry.” Beck says. Her voice hitches when Justin pulls out of her, only for him to spoon up behind her and wrap her in his arms, the mess between them ignored for now. “You’re staying the night.”

“But—”

“It’s another rule,” Justin informs him. “And you’re buying the coffee in the morning.”

Ryan stares at the two of them for a moment, before putting down his clothes and making his way back to the bed.

⇉ taglist: @rumoured-whispers @ladyveronikawrites @ao3userfeistycadavers @circle-with-me

@dominuslunae @deathblacksmoke @collapsedglasshouses @thatchickwiththecamera

#motionless in white fic #justin morrow fic #ryan sitkowski fic #justin morrow x ofc x ryan sitkowksi #.ficbysitkowski #tumblr prompt fills

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lucysarah-c · 10 months

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Ommgg did you see the stupid leaks about Kenny being levi real father???????

I thought that was the stupidest shitties thing I read .

It is really have no point, Kenny raped his own sister that's xjjdirjriirjrktkrikrjrkei

And the fact that they say levi talking about it to Gabi and falocko how the hell he even know to tell them

Hi! Yes, I actually watched it over a day ago, but I don't usually share "spoilers" here on Tumblr because I'm always scared of triggering someone, lol.

My best take on those leaks? Either they are fake as heck (probably) or someone needs to cancel Yam's HBO subscription… he's been watching House of the Dragon way too much, lol.

At first, I was a bit worried because the person who leaked them on Reddit used to leak manga stuff back in the day, and they were accurate from time to time. But apparently, that person hasn't been around Reddit in years, so there's a high chance it's someone pretending to be them.

Honestly, they make absolutely no sense, hahaha. They make so much NONSENSE that it's actually funny. The whole Kuchel wearing mascara? As if this is… fifty shades of grey, and they're meeting at a ball without knowing they are siblings? HAHA 🚬🚬CINE🚬🚬

I've seen fics on Wattpad with better and less creepy plots than this… and I've read VERY weird fics on Wattpad.

I love that people are defending that Levi doesn't have problems with endogamy because of "Ackerman's powers" as if they are… I don't know, some magical solution to everything or "CRISPR Cas9."

Not going to lie, usually, endogamy starts to create problems further down in the family legacy when it's done between, well… cousins, aunts, etc. Usually, people think "endogamy = immediate problems," but usually, it doesn't; it takes a few generations of it. But between siblings? lol, there's a high chance that the pregnancy won't even reach term! But this is me rambling as a biotechnologist at this point, lmao.

Another "option" I heard was that they were "re-drawing" the first panels, and it actually was EREN IN THE PATHS watching Levi's life…. my first thought? "Eren voyeur! Watch your own life, creep!" Hahah, can you imagine? Eren there like a stalker watching Levi's life? God… the imagination of this fandom.

Oh well… let's have fun about it while we can and then pretend it never happened, lmao.

Have a lovey day/night! Take care!

P.S: if they someone end up being true and Yams is obssesed with the targaryens... I DEMAND AN OFFICIAL ART OF LEVI WITH PLATINIUM SILVER HAIR.

#aot #attack on titan #levi #captain levi #snk levi #attack on titans #levi aot #snk #shingeki no kyojin #levi ackerman #snk spoiler #snk spoilers #aot spoilers #lucy answers #Levi Ackerman/targaryen

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horrorknife · 5 months

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hi ! sorry if this sounds weird but like

i stumbled upon one of your hoffheight posts and I'm so. genuinely fascinated ?? like, i THINK i understand it (I've certainly put them in a microwave and stared at them for the past few days) but i want to "get it right", if that makes ANY amount of sense. I want to interpret them correctly, I think is a better way to phrase it (it's 2am nothing I say will make more sense and I apologize for that.)

I think in a post you mentioned them being like, reflections of each other or something, which, I didn't realize but shit yeah?? they are aren't they. something about being on hair triggers or whatever. GOD they fascinate me so much I need you to understand how much this dynamic intrigues me. having them both be unstable in their own rights (esp with anger issues and all) it just. I love that ?? it's so fun!! I keep spinning them in my mind !!!

I think you also mentioned them being some flavor of qpr and as someone who's aromantic I. god qpr's my beloved. I really need them to be an evil qpr. that means a lot 2 me. ESPECIALLY if it's not even mentioned, but it definitely is a qpr. in my head Adam would have the potential (still not likely) to know what a qpr is, but he would never label it as that. at least not verbally. I love when there's a silent agreement that two people are definitely not romantic but labelling something as platonic is insincere. they're a secret third option don't worry about it !!!

sorry for dumping this into your inbox, I have a lot of thoughts and assumed it'd be mildly funny if I just left them with you. do with that what you will. I hope you have a nice day and thank you for the food for thought

[bonus ask that's ACTUALLY an ask and not just the ramblings of a mad man, do you have any fic recommendations of the two? for research, of course]

HI!!!! oh my fucking god anon you have no idea how excited and happy this makes me . *little cat running around in circles moment*

so like. i imagine there’s this cord between them and neither of them understand it. they can both just Smell the sameness on each other, the familiarity of deepset rage and suffering and loneliness. adam’s young and impressionable and hoffman would be able to use him to his advantage. hoffman would love this guy. my characterization of adam post bathroom is lonely, detached, and even angrier than before so he gets into fights for the self destructive nature of the thing and hoffman would LOVE how unhinged he is (we all saw how much hoffman seemed to admire/get obsessed w strahm and that guy is Nuts). they’re the same kind of prey animal! they have the same fear of abandonment!!

something something the way they both die in the same spot, attached to the same pipe, forced to watch as LAWRENCE (OF ALL PEOPLE!!!!) abandons them for dead. adam is desperate for life adam is in a game rigged against him. hoffman fights and fights and gnashes and thrashes against this the entire series and yet he ultimately has no choice but to succumb to it, he dies the same horrific way adam did, alone and abandoned and feeling that same primal prey animal fear. there's something to both of them being lawrence's only (CANONICAL) victims (brad, ryan, and dina are lawrence's vics to me. but that's a different post) there's something to the way that adam dies in the first film and haunts the narrative forever and the person who reprises that role is HOFFMAN of all people. the way that this comes full circle is really really delicious to me

adam's camera is his buffer from the real world, it's how he processes things, he's at his best when he's unnoticed and free to Watch. guys we're not doing enough with the voyeur thing. guys. adam catalogs information adam loves holding secret knowledge. in a similar way, hoffman is holding a knife between himself and the real world, he's processing everything through a layer of violence before all else because he can't risk human connection anymore. all of his relationships are made through violence and this is of course present here as well because you adam's deepest connections are also facilitated through violence. you can argue that this is true of all saw characters and you'd be right but there's something so specially flavored about it when you look at hoffman and adam next to each other.

hoffman needs Direction From Someone Else in order to be an effective cog in the jigsaw machine–after john dies he just falls apart immediately and gets clumsy and makes stupid mistakes bc at the end of it all hoffman has been robbed of a Normal existence and the thing he really wants most is companionship (again, seen in the way he interacts w rigg and strahm–he communicates his ‘affection’ in adversarial ways to keep them hooked + offers them genuine chances at survival but they’re both too clouded and Against Him for it to work. king of misjudging situations) and direction. i think if he even had a LITTLE help he’d be a lot better at being jigsaw

conversely, adam is this poor, broke 25 year old clinking pennies together in his shithole apartment. and he has the same stripping of purpose hoffman does. he doesn’t communicate with his family anymore (for undisclosed reasons but this is one of my personal pinpoints for bi/transmasc adam), effectively abandoned by them, and we know that his one namedropped friend (his “BEST” friend btw) is a piece of shit TO him and ABOUT him. adam gets walked all over and he lives at the universe’s disposal to kick the shit out of. he’s been abandoned or mistreated by everyone significant in his life. hoffman is a well off and well respected cop with a whole department of people who highly respect him but he’s empty inside bc he’s incapable of having any meaningful relationships the moment he gets involved with john. he has to fully wall himself off again because it’s too risky to get close to other people. imagine your only worldly thread of understanding from another person ends up being the serial killer you’re chasing/impersonating. and he hates you.

adam’s a genuinely understanding and kind person under his defensiveness, we all know this, we’ve all seen saw 2004. he’d be kind to hoffman and hoffman would see stars. he forgot people were capable of treating him like a normal person. having hoffman warm up to you is the equivalent of having a crochety old man who hates everyone share apple slices with you. you’re a little nervous about it, you’re a little on edge, but he’s just cutting out his apple slices and handing you one every so often. a test of trust. maybe you’re uncomfortable but you’ll take his offering to be polite. you’ll enjoy his company, you’ll share that apple with him, you’ll forge a new bond with that person. this is the type of companionship im kind of getting at.

um but yeah . rambling aside. back on track. unspoken/unaware qpr hoffheight is THE THING to me. yes we love each other yes we’d kill for each other no we’re not in love. we have a secret third thing and it’s called I Have To Keep This Guy Safe Right Fucking Now Because He Matters To Me More Than I Can Understand. OH mid paragraph im remembering something important. this absolutely all takes place within a sphere of hoffman and adam’s relationship starting with hoffman making adam his apprentice. i feel like that might have been obvious up there ^ but i want to be very clear w my intentions and my vision. KJDFSJKDF. ALSO oh my god . fuckkkkk fuck fuck fml i think hoffman thinks 2 himself that angelina would probably have liked adam and that definitely endears him to the guy.

like you said yeah i think adam has the Potential to know what a qpr is (but i dont think he does know)!! if anything he would ultimately just recognize it as an inherently special and inherently queer relationship…auuuu………i know i didnt get too into the evil parts of them too much here but thats cuz it would make me end up writing a 6k essay on them or something. just know that they do butt heads a lot because at the end of the day theyre from completely different universes and adam is an ODD/BPD king.

god . i could really just go on and on and on and on about them. i have so much more to say LOL but this is already a bit of a wordy response >__< i just have such a clear vision of their vibe and dynamic in my mind. it comes to me like sherlock visions. i’m being pelted with big times new roman font things that say shit like “HOFFHEIGHT GAY SEX” “They Are Everything To Each Other In A Codependent Ass Way”

THANK YOU FOR THIS ASK BY THE WAY I UM. GOT SO FUCKING EXCITEDD WHEN I READ IT AKJDNJAKLDNVSJKFNFDKGNVDFK. YOU DONT KNOW WHAT THESE TWO ARE TO ME . YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW SICK AND FUCKED UP I AM OVER THEM LOLLLLL. asks that made me get up out of bed at 6:30 in the morning because i was too excited and woke up fully

if u have more questions or u wanna rap abt this more PLEAAAAASE feel free 2 send more asks or reach out via messages i love discussing my evil plots with them. i am literally ALWAYS locked and loaded and ready to talk about hoffheight. anon i unfortunately do not have fic recs because i do not like reading fanfiction. im incredibly particular about characterization and i’m a little bit of a writing snob. i don’t trust them in anyone else’s hands for fic if i’m being honest. i don’t think anyone else’s vision will fully align with mine and i’m too autistic to risk seeing that be done wrong. i’ll get too emotional KJDNKJSNFJ

#hoffheight #tagging cuz why not. tag is dead as hell #anonymous #asks #thank you for giving me a chance to ramble i love getting to infodump

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fragileizy · 13 days

Text

idk it's like

i talked to my therapist today through mid bites of food during lunch

i talked to her about how i kinda feel like i'm slowly forming into a person that actually feels sexual kinda. dooes this make sense? sorry i'm going to treat this like a diary entry. i'll spare you the long post and shove this under a read more.

i write an absolute onslaught of porn but it's always felt kind of like something that's not for me; i'm not a participant, but rather an audience, and i'm totally disjointed from the actual experience. it doesn't pertain to me, almost as if i'm not allowed to. no one's ever said i'm not allowed to be. i guess i've just grown up this way? maybe it's the way that i was never picked by anyone growing up or considered attractive, nothing like that was ever taught to me at a young age that i'm something people look towards to. i've been told my whole life by older adults— aunts, uncles, family-friend members, general, random adults— that they find me pretty, but that's never really translated to much. at the very most, i get called a "doll". i'm not really considered attractive. or maybe i am and i just don't realize?? anyway, it's like, that's fine? or i thought it was fine. sex wasn't for me, and it never was, and i thought i was fine with that— but i'm not. i'm self conscious, i'm shy, i'm scared and timid; instead of feeling anything good whenever i've been in those situations, i feel scared. flighty. i feel like i'm doing something wrong.

lately i've been feeling really okay with myself? dare i say kind to myself? i have no idea what's changed. maybe it's the fact that i'm taking care of myself— oh, god, here we go, talking about "self-care" while actually meaning "grooming myself— hair, nails, makeup— in a way that is socially acceptable" but eh. maybe. sort of. the pink hair was almost a revolution of the self (god, poetic much?) where it really felt like i had agency for the first time in my entire life, and it felt great. it felt good.

the fact that i'm able to dress myself with the little money i have and put on clothes that i picked out for me and me alone for my work and my car actually makes me feel like i have agency. at most, i've always felt like a dog with a propeller hat at a party, and i mean this genuinely. i always feel like i'm severely in the wrong place at the wrong time at every circumstance in my life, and people find it comical and silly that i'm just walking around. maybe they find it endearing; maybe they actually look forward to seeing me because i brighten up their day— look at that, a dog with a propeller hat on, isn't that silly? how cute is this!!!— but that's still not ideal. it would be nice to feel like a person. it would be nice to feel like i'm a 26 year old adult. not a dog with a hat.

lately i've been feeling like a 26 year old adult. i've been talking and showing opinions and having crushes (even if they're fleeting, even if they're stupid, they're real, and i have them, and the impulse to want kisses and hugs and laughter and someone to cuddle next to at night makes me almost incomprehensibly impossible to deal with because i'm so annoying about it) still makes me feel so grateful. i feel like a participant in such a long time with even the idea of sex. god, what a thing to say. i'm not a voyeur in the idea of sexual attraction, i'm a— timid! cautious! scared! but willing!— participant in my own thoughts. i want to go to the beach and wear cute swimsuits. i want to be less shy about how i dress. i want to look in the mirror and continue looking at my butt and being like :O because i like the shape it makes when i move my legs a certain way. i want to be liked. i wanna find myself attractive.

idk. idk. idk. idk. idk. idk. anyway. talked to my therapist today.

#speakizys

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waitingforwinterwinds · 2 years

Text

A Clash of Kings - 30 ARYA VII (pages 413-425)

Arya adapts to life at Harrenhal, and learns she owes the Red God a debt. She makes the first payment of three.

There was always talk of Beric Dandarrion. A fat archer once said the Bloody Mummers had slain him, but the others only laughed. "Lorch killed the man at Rushing Falls, and the Mountain's slain him twice. Got me a silver stag says he don't stay dead this time neither."

For the foreseeable future, I will henceforth be picturing Beric as a man in purple with a black eye mask and striped underwear.

... now I want to rewatch the 1996 Billy Zane movie.

Beneath the standard of a black goat with bloody horns-

ngl my first thought was "The Bloody Mummers are Satanists?" (They certainly sound demonic of character)

After the hanged men had stopped kicking, Vargo Hoat and Ser Harys embraced and kissed and swore to love each other always as Lord Tywin looked on.

I'm choosing to imagine that they frenched, (I didn't actually choose it, it's just how I imagined the scene as I read it,) and that Tywin is a voyeur, and also that he is the worst relationship councilor in the history of ever.

(I think I might be a little mean today. We could cover it over and call it sassy or snarky or whatever men call it when ladies are mean but they like it, but we all know it's just mean.)

When she thought of seeing Robb's face again Arya had to bite her lip. And I want to see Jon too, and Bran and Rickon, and mother. Even Sansa... I'll kiss her and beg her pardons like a proper lady, she'll like that.

Awwww. I want to wrap her up safe, rescue her from this shit hole and take her home to be with her family.

I'm actually a little surprised that Arya hasn't had even a tiny meltdown now that she has some medium of safety, that's usually when the mental protection and disassociations begin breaking down, because mental resources start freeing up, but even though Arya has a steady food supply, hygiene and sleeping in easy reach, doesn't mean she's actually safe and she obviously knows that, she's still in as much danger as she was before, the danger just looks different now.

Oh no! Lord Cerwyn! That's Cley's dad! And Arya's down another ally that she never really had. LET ME HUG HER!!!

He'd bought a ton of silver to forge into magic swords that would slay the Stark wargs.

Well that's just the wrong show. Good to know conspiracy theorists will thrive in any world.

Arya's being really smart, keeping her ears open for gossip while she keeps her head down, alas, rumours make tabloids not news.

He laid a finger on her lips. "Three lives you shall have of me. No more, no less. Three and we are done. So a girl must ponder." He kissed her hair softly. "But not too long."

Uhhhh... bad touch? I... I feel very confused, on whether that was supposed to be familial comfort type or just creepy type? You didn't need to kiss her hair, what the hell man? (I might just be keyed to read that as creepy because GRRM does love writing shit like that which is creepy...)

...

... I need to be fucking sick, and I need so many of these men to be very fucking dead. Well, one out of many, I'll have to settle for it. For now.

"- Some are saying it was Harren's ghost, flung him down." He snorted to show what he thought of such notions. It wasn't Harren, Arya wanted to say, it was me. She had killed him with a whisper, and she would kill two more before she was through. I'm the ghost in Harrenhal, she thought. And that night, there was one less name to hate.

What I do like about this chapter is that it feels like Arya is getting her second wind, regaining her footing and sense of power. Not big power, but the power to do something, literally any thing, after so long being able to do nothing. And she's calling back her father's and Robb's words, being responsible for the lives taken, "If you would take a man's life, you owe it to him to look him in the face and hear his last words," but she also knows she doesn't have that kind of power and ability.

There's a blurred line here between justice and vengeance but Arya still holds the responsibility around killing another human (outside of desperate battle).

Chiswyck's last words probably would have been trash anyway.

oh gosh, draft autosave just rescued me again ^_^'

#a clash of kings #a song of ice and fire #arya stark #a chapter a day reading #acok #asoiaf

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amrv-5 · 1 year

Note

HI PARKER!!! trope meme ask:

time loops/time wonkiness, modern AU, noir AU (I know the answer but STILL), genderswap/genderfuckery, major character death, there was only one bed

LISAAAAAAAA these are all so GOOD????? THANK YOU!!!!!!!! This is JUST what I needed to focus on rn AHHHHHH. So good. So good. All answers are MASH btw of course. I got a one track brain rn:

Time loops/time wonkiness:

Yes. Yes. Love. Yes. Figurative time loops or time dilation or whatever? Where it just FEELS like things are taking forever but they aren’t? Love it. Literal time fuckery? Love it even more. I particularly love to think about the idea of a time loop in MASH as it relates to the sort of meta-angle of syndication. The idea that these characters are all, in some way, trapped reliving the same days of the war over and over for as long as we are watching them…that’s the stuff. Invokes something interesting to me about viewership / media voyeurism that I haven’t really pulled apart but. Fun. Makes me think. Love to play with. Ripe for tragic effect in-fic, fascinating at a meta-level. Fun fun fun fun fun.

Modern AU:

Hard no, I say, writing one.

To be fair I only started playing with the idea to see if I thought it could be done. Generally my opinion of a modern MASH AU is that it divorces the characters from the circumstances that shape them so entirely that it might as well be playing with OCs. They are so deeply the products of their time and place that I really hate to see them taken out of their context.

…That said, I’m finding that the modern AU I was chopping at started to work when I shoved them into a desperate modern situation. Instead of sticking them in the front lines of a land war, I shoved them into the front lines of modern American health care. Hawkeye and BJ as trauma/CT surgeons fighting a losing battle against the crushing bureaucracy of the American medical industry kind of…works? IMO? Not nearly as well as their original context, but it does allow Hawkeye to be desperate and angry and disgusted by the perversion of his profession for the profit of massive corporate interests, and it lets BJ be silently resigned to hell, and the both of them are trapped for a certain number of years in a way by medical debt and the fact that what the hell do you do if you quit being a surgeon, when so much of your life and identity revolves around your career? It works because it lets them field despair and lean on each other and shove against massive faceless machines of injustice that profit off exploitation of their skills. Tl,dr; I’m a hypocrite for disliking modern AUs, it’s true, I admit. I'll never say never, but it'd have to be done really intentionally to appeal to me, I think.

Noir AU:

LOVE!!!!!!!! LOVE!!!!!!!! I think it’s soooo sexy. I love noir, I’m a huge Raymond Chandler fan, and kind of subscribe to his writing approach in that frequently vibes and images are more the point of noir than watertight plot. There is very little I enjoy more than the type of stylized, image-focused writing that noir invites. I’ve been hacking away at a noir Beejhawk AU (AS YOU KNOW!!!!!!!! AH!!!!! I am working on. So many things. Help) and a consistent source of fun has been writing these smoky, dim, tense, sexy, ambient scenes where everybody’s circling each other and nobody is on quite the same page. Lots of Hawkeye standing around being lean and sharp and clever and melancholy, and lots of BJ being, and I’ve code-named him the Jackal in this fic where he’s a rouge and disillusioned beat cop with a gun to his head, sort of gleefully sadistic in moments. We know he’s got an in-canon capacity for violence that concerns and upsets him, and it’s been fun to let him take the limiters off and go a little wild with it. And of course how does guilt come back into play, because you KNOW it’s going to be there for him. Waiting. Always. Especially when he initially meets Hawk as a bit of an antagonist figure. God I gotta get back to writing this.

Genderswap/gender fuckery:

YES!!! No. Yes. [Parker is picky as usual alert] SOMETIMES I love it and sometimes it’s meh. I LOVE it when it seeks out to agitate borders of heteronormativity and make things queer. I think it’s soooo fun to get into characters’ psychology (obviously) and I love how many ways that gender swapping or gender fuckery can open itself up to questioning characters’ internal biases and assumptions. If it's just to make a gay ship straight w/no underlying interest in how that would change things, then nah.

That said I think BJ and Hawk are both sooooo fun to get genderfucky with. I think BJ is fun to use to see how he reacts to tearing down some of his intense 50s gender role feelings, and Hawkeye and his whole breeding kink (sorry) etc., so much fun. Drag is fun, gender fuckery is fun, crossing borders is fun, violating gender norms rules and is so cool and fun. I love queer people actually. Love to see it in fic. GET WEIRD W IT! I’ve decided this is actually a solid yes now that I’ve typed it out. GET WEIRD!!!!! I WANNA READ IT!!!!

Major character death:

NOOOOO AUUUUUGHHHHH. I will personally probably never write it (if it’s not temporary a la vampire!Hawk fic), but I think it CAN be done well but ouuuughhhhh. Hurts. Makes me soooo sad. I’m sure I’ve seen it done well but ohhhhhhhhhh.

There was only one bed:

Answered elsewhere but. I’ll say again that I FUCKING LOVE IT. Love pics that really delve into physical affection and one bed is soooo great for just. Everything about that. Accidental cuddling. Sharing space. Waking up wrapped in each other…..ooohhhhhhh I love. I love.

Thanks AGAIN for this ask it was soooooo fun to get to really sit down and think through these!!!!!!!!!!!

#this is so long I'm sorry #I GOTTA WRITE MORE NOIR!!!!!!#I gotta get through uhh. I have uhh #I have at last count 5 diff fics in progress right now I am so sorry #THANK YOU LISA!!!!!

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harryscherrypie · 2 years

Text

You pop, when we get intimate

husband!Harry Styles x fem!reader

summary - how your moans made their way into the background of cinema

warnings - smut, poorly written, slight voyeurism? Harry wants to put your moans in a song so yeah, fluff

wordcount - 2,8k

a/n - Oh god, this one physically drained me. I've been writing it since like august, but the smut never came out right, I hope you like this one, my second smut ever and I'm still a bit awkward writing it so patience, please.

If you have any feedback on my writing, please let me know, it would help tremendously,

Hope you enjoy it.

----

“You want to what?” You almost screeched as you looked at Harry with wide eyes.

“You heard me right,” he smirked.

You knew Harry could be unhinged when it came to his music. In his previous work, he wasn’t afraid to use intimate bits and pieces of your relationship, just to complete the storytelling. But this was too much, even for him.

“You are absolutely crazy,” you laughed and shook your head.

He had to be joking. Right?

This wasn’t what you were expecting today. You and Harry were both at home. You were working on a project for work and he was working on songs in his home studio. After being locked away in there for about 5 hours straight he came out into the kitchen and nonchalantly asked the craziest question you’ve ever heard.

“Will you let me put your moans into one of my songs?”

“Look, we don’t have to do it, I understand if you are uncomfortable, but I think it would go in the song perfectly,” he shrugged as he moved closer to the couch, where you were sitting. He crouched in front of you and you opened your legs to make space for him between your legs.

“I don’t know Har,” you mumbled as you leaned closer to him. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into him. It was an awkward position but you didn’t mind, you were glad to finally have him with you after he spent the few previous hours locked away in his studio.

“As I said, baby, if you are uncomfortable, it’s out of the window, you know I would never force you to do anything you don’t want to,” he kissed your cheek gently and placed his forehead against your temple.

“Let me think about it hm?” You asked and he nodded happily.

“Thank you,” he mumbled as he pressed his lips against yours softly.

----

That was 2 weeks ago, and to be honest, you thought about his question non-stop. You roughly knew what he wanted to do. He didn’t want to put your moans to the forefront of the song. He wanted them in the background, just loud enough to slightly hear over the music, he didn’t think anyone would catch onto them after the first listen, and that calmed your mind slightly.

Harry was spending the night at his studio in the city when you decided to agree to his proposition. It wasn’t unusual for him to spend nights at the studio. He always said that he felt the most inspired when he worked alone and during the night, and you could understand that.

You retyped the text a few times before you hit send. Just a couple of minutes later, a long voice message came from Harry.

“Oh my God, are you for real? Are you 100% sure? I don’t want you to do this just because I wanted it, please tell me you are sure,” even though he sounded concerned, you could hear a tinge of hope and happiness in his voice.

“Yes, I am sure, I know you would never do anything to hurt or embarrass me, I trust you with my life, Harry,” you sent back a voice message and quickly moved to gather your stuff and get to the studio.

It wasn’t far away, only about 15 minutes from your shared apartment. You listened to a podcast you started listening to while you were working earlier that day as you drove towards the studio.

You parked in the parking lot beside the studio and got out. The lights in the entire building were out, only reassuring you that Harry was in the building alone, maybe except for a couple of security guards, who were going to stay on the bottom floor, so it didn’t bother you.

You walked into the building and greeted the security guard who had a shift that night. You handed him your ID for him to check your name on the list of people who have access and wished you a good night.

You took the elevator to the rented studio, which was on the 8th floor. As the elevator slowed down, you called Harry to let you in.

“Hey, I’m here, can you let me in please?”

“Of course, love, I’m going to be right there,”

You only waited for about 2 minutes, before the door opened up and your husband appeared.

“Hey,” he smiled and pulled you towards him. He rested his chin against your shoulder as he gently swayed your bodies from side to side. You reveled in the feeling for a few moments before he slowly pulled away.

“Come on,” he tugged on your hand and pulled you into the studio with him.

He locked the door behind the two of you and led you towards a small couch in the back of the room. He sat down, pulled you right on top of him in one fluid motion, and rested his palms on your hips.

“I missed you,” he mumbled as he peppered small kisses around your face.

“I missed you too,” you smiled and rubbed his back gently.

“Baby, are you absolutely sure?” He asked concerned.

“Do you want me to change my mind? Because it sounds like you do,” you teased as you swiped your fingers around the surface of his cheeks.

“Let me get things ready, drink some of my tea if you want, it should be still hot,” he smiled and handed you the mug full of herbal tea.

You took the mug into your hands and blew on the tea gently. You watched Harry as he toyed with the soundboard and the computer from the couch. After a few minutes, you placed the mug on the table in front of you and stood up.

You moved towards him as quietly as you could, trying to scare him. He squealed lowly as you dug your fingers into his sides. You wrapped your hands around him while he quietly laughed at your antics. You raised to your tippy-toes and placed your chin on his shoulder.

“You little minx,” he smiled and opened up a program on his computer screen.

“Are you done?” You asked and pressed a kiss to the side of his neck.

“Almost, be patient,” he mumbled. Your eyes wandered from the screen to the profile of Harry’s face. You allowed yourself to admire him for a while before he spoke up.

“I can see you staring,” Harry said absentmindedly.

“I am getting bored and horny, so hurry up,” you whined jokingly.

“I am done, the mic is on, we can go in,” he turned around and pulled you into him. He kissed you gently, and unhurriedly. Even though the both of you knew what was going to happen in the next few minutes, the kiss didn’t get steamy. It stayed soft and gentle as if to bring each other comfort.

“You can still say no, you can always say no, I won’t get mad,” he reminded you as he placed his forehead against yours and closed his eyes in bliss.

“I know,” you rolled your eyes. “You told me like 5 times already,” you joked and he ‘tsked’ and raised your chin to keep you looking at him.

“I want you to be comfortable, and know that you can back out anytime you feel like it is becoming too much,” he stroked your cheek. You nodded in acknowledgment and tugged at his hand.

“C’mon, let’s get this over with,” you said.

“Eager, are we?” he teased but complied and let you lead him to the booth.

“You were hopeful, weren’t you?” You teased when you saw the inside of the booth. There were blankets and pillows strewn across the floor, with some towels and water bottles to the side. Your heart fluttered. You couldn’t have asked for more. The fact that he went out of his way to do this to try and make you feel more comfortable made your heart squeeze inside your chest.

“Guess you could say I had a hunch,” he winked jokingly and pulled you into the booth. He pulled you to sit down on the floor which was cushioned by the soft pillows.

“It’s so cozy, I love it,” you mumbled as you ran your hands over the soft fabric around you.

“Only the best for you, my love,” he smiled.

“C’mere baby, let me kiss you,” Harry pulled you onto his lap and quickly pressed his lips to yours. You stayed like that for a while. Pressed up against each other, lips moving against each other.

“Turn around baby, sit between my legs, it’s going to sound better that way,” he whispered into your ear and you complied. You shifted your weight and turned around, careful not to hurt him. You nested between his legs and pressed your back against his chest. You felt him lean against the wall behind him and get comfortable.

When the both of you got comfortable, you turned your head to the side, so you could face him.

“How are we going to do this?” You asked curiously.

“Well, I don’t think I’m going to be able to fuck you unless I want all of the moans in the background to be mine, so that’s out of the window,” he grinned and kissed your neck.

“Yeah, you tend to be just a tiny bit loud,” you smiled and raised your hand with a small space between your thumb and pointer finger.

“Get your shirt off, woman,” he jokingly ordered and you raised your hands above your head.

“Get it off yourself,” you smiled. The shirt landed somewhere to your right. You didn’t have time to look because Harry pulled you into a kiss immediately after the shirt stopped touching your skin. He didn’t waste any time and cupped your breasts in his hands. He kneaded the soft flesh roughly, making you moan into his mouth.

“So beautiful,” he mumbled against your lips as he ran the tips of his fingers over your stomach and hips. You moaned at his praise softly and raised your hips off of the ground slightly, trying to tell him you wanted him to slide your sweat pants off of your legs.

Harry knew you like the back of his hand, and immediately understood what you wanted from him.

“Raise your hips for me, love, just a bit,” he murmured against the side of your face and you complied, air leaving your lungs at his words, wrapping your arm around the back of his neck to get some stability. He swiped the fabric of both sweat pants and your underwear from underneath your butt, and down your legs.

“Straighten your legs,” he ordered and you did, just for him to hook his knees around your legs and pinning them to the ground, spread out. You let out a shaky breath, tensing up from the sudden cold feeling touching your hot core.

“Relax against me, and let me do the work,” you nodded your head desperately and you laid your head against his shoulder, burrowing your face in his neck.

At first, he didn’t do anything. His slight touches were teasing and almost non-existent, dancing over your heated naked skin.

As his hand traveled down, over your thigh, it nestled itself on your inner thigh, incredibly close to where you needed him, making goosebumps erupt all over your skin.

He was so, so close when he suddenly started to pull away. In the deep feeling of desperation, you forcefully closed your legs and pried them from underneath his, with a loud whine.

“Please, don’t do this to me,” you whined and Harry tsked disapprovingly.

“Be good for me, or you won’t get anything,” he threatened, and you nodded understandingly. You knew he wouldn’t do that to you, after all, he needed this but you knew the longer you would misbehave the longer it would take for him to properly start.

he pined your legs underneath his again, this time a lot firmer than before and his hand went back to the place it was before.

This time around, he didn’t waste any time and dived straight in. He pulled your hood apart with two fingers, leaving your pulsing clit uncovered in the slightly cold air of the recording booth. He smeared your wetness over his fingers and started rubbing soft circles on your clit, making you lean back into him a little more, feeling a jolt of electricity flash over your spine.

“Is that good lovie?” He asked, already knowing the answer. You nodded vigorously, letting a breathless moan tumble out of your mouth. He didn’t take his time easing you into the feeling, as he started rubbing your clit a bit more roughly.

You didn’t understand how he did it, but you already felt the familiar knot forming in your stomach. The feeling of the cold rings pressing against your heated skin only made the motions of his skilled fingers make you feel so much better.

You could feel his fingers starting to explore, the thumb circled your clit and the rest went downwards until you felt them prodding against your wet hole.

“Please, give me your fingers,” you moaned out and he kissed the side of your head.

“Be patient,” he murmured.

He teased you, only letting the tips of his finger dip into you before he pulled them away, only focusing on your clit.

You couldn’t wait anymore, you gripped his wrist and looked him in the eyes, with a pleading look on your face.

“Please,” you whispered and he rolled his eyes, nodding, as if annoyed. You let go of his wrist, settling back against him.

He dipped his fingers in you again, going deeper this time. You spread your legs slightly more, trying to take as much of his fingers as you can. You moaned loudly when his fingers prodded against the sensitive spot inside you. The motion made you grip the loose fabric of his grey sweat pants you could almost feel him smirk behind you.

“Oh, God,” you whispered out as you fought against the flutter of your lashes, struggling against the urge to close your eyes in absolute bliss.

He quickly moved his fingers in and out of you, thumb on your clit, trying to graze the sensitive spot as much and as best as you could. Soon, you were a moaning and whining mess, too close to your orgasm to let out anything except the gasps of his name.

You were so, so close. The feeling in your belly almost too much to bear.

“Let go for me my love, cum for me,” he whispered against your ear.

You tried to hold off for a while, wanting to enjoy his touch for a bit longer, but you couldn’t it wasn’t possible.

You let go with a loud moan as the hot blinding pleasure hit you, making you see galaxies for a few moments. You desperately tried to close your legs around his hand, but this time, he was ready and didn’t let your legs slip from his. Harry continued to rub your clit even after your orgasm, making you whine and try to get away from him.

You felt sleepy. Your eyes were too heavy to keep them open and your limbs felt too heavy to move on your own. You felt yourself being moved. From between Harry’s legs to laying on a fluffy pillow with a warm blanket draped over you. You felt Harry slip away from you, and you tried calling out for him.

“M’just going to turn the mic off, I will be back in a minute, I promise darling, then I’ll clean you up,” he promised lovingly and you nodded, snuggling into the soft fabric of the pillow underneath your head.

He was right, after about a minute you could feel his presence again as the pillows around you shifted underneath his weight.

“I need to pull the blanket off, prepare,” he warned and you braced yourself for the chilly feeling.

You were grateful he cleaned up very quickly. He quickly wiped you up, and slipped your underwear on, mumbling encouraging words when you flinched away from being too sensitive.

“Sit up for me,” he gently ordered and pulled you up to rest against him. He opened the water bottle only an arm's length away from him and placed it against your lips, urging you to drink just a little. You took a few sips, but soon grew tired of it, and tried to lay down again. This time, he laid down with you. He threw a blanket over your bodies, snuggling your almost bare form to his, gently brushing his hand over your hair in soothing motions.

“Did so good for me, my best girl,” he mumbled as he peppered kisses around the back of your neck.

“At least credit me for the song,” you joked weakly, making Harry’s laugh the last thing you heard before you slipped into a well-deserved slumber.

----

This is it folks, hope you liked it, please reblog and like to let me know, it makes me very happy to see.

Anyway, thank you for reading <3

#fanfiction #harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles one shot #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #my writing #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles writing #harry styles smut #harry styles fic

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darklydeliciousdesires · 2 years

Text

Envy - A Bishop Losa/Reader Smut Drabble.

Hot, nasty voyeurism with Bishop? You got it! ;)

Words - 820

Warnings - Absolute filth below the cut. Under 18? This isn’t for you!

He ruts up into you with strong, sharp snaps of his hips, but it’s slow, deliberate, his cock drawing back languidly only to fill you with a rapid surge once more. The pleasure is biting, both steeped in fire and frost, your nerves bouncing in symphony, your hair wound around his fist as he keeps your head pulled back, his other hand stroking a path of pure heat and sin over your body, clutching your breasts, short nails leaving crescents on your hip, your breaths soft and fluttery.

He groans in your ear, deep and dirty, his tongue skimming the edge, biting your lobe, his dark eyes watching the reflection in the mirror before you of how he’s fucking you from behind, his hand moving to your clit, fingers rubbing at the slick bud, your wail making him grin.

“Yeah, you look so hot, split around my cock, don’t you, sweetheart? Yeah, you do,” he grumbles, his rasp all smoke and salt, your neck bitten, his hand tugging harder at your hair. Oh god, what a man he is. Fuck. A man who fucks rough and dirty, chuckling in your ear as he sends tingles of utter rapture dancing through you, lightning flickering at the base of your spine, his cock punching into you deep, deep, deep. “Fuck, you’re so goddamned wet,” he continues, before looking over at the third pair of eyes in the room, the pair watching from the corner. “She get this wet for you, bro?”

There’s nothing magnanimous about his question. It’s taunting, because he knows, Bishop Losa knows well from the look on your boyfriend's face, that he doesn’t evoke the same sexual delirium within you. He doesn’t measure up to him, and that’s part of the reason he agreed to the request you broached him with, your guy wanting to watch his girl get fucked by an outlaw, because he knew, he just knew, he’d do it better.

He also wanted you to watch while he did it, hence the mirror, your eyes never leaving reflection of you getting railed so dirtily, not even to watch your boyfriend, who did think it would be arousing to witness, a dangerous criminal fucking his lady, who now just looks on in mild horror at how much more you’re enjoying being fucked by Bishop than you ever have him. You? You’re too lost in ecstasy, your cunt fluttering around his cock, spearing you with perfect finesse again and again, his groans making your heart thunder in your chest, your clit stroked so well, he has entire constellations of stars streaking through you.

“Okay, you can stop now,” your boyfriend suggests, Bishop rumbling with laughter.

“Nope, I ain’t done yet, homeboy. You said you wanted to watch me fuck your girl. What you did not say is that I couldn’t do it better than you do. Because look at her. We both know I do,” he pants, kissing your neck, tongue licking at your cheek.

He gets out of his chair, taking a step to approach. “No, really.”

Bishop’s hand leaves your clit, reaching to his kutte beside you, pulling his gun out. “You wanna get shot? Take one more step and I can make that happen for you. I’m not stopping until your girl cums all over my cock, so you can either stay and watch that happen, or you can fuck off. Choice is yours.”

Never in your life, have you ever, ever been so turned on. Truth is, you’re a bad girl and likely, you should have finished with your boyfriend a while ago. But you thought you’d give this suggestion a try, see if it could provoke a little more fire into your sex life with him. As it turns out, the fire that got ignited came from a completely different source, spelling one thing loud and clear.

He looks on at you, waiting for your input, Bishop very deliberately fucking up into you savagely, evoking a wail, biting the side of your neck. “Mmm, that’s a good girl. You get nice and loud for daddy.” Hearing those words, you feel as if you’re about to explode with the raw nastiness, the absolute filth of it, of him, your boyfriend, if he still even is that at all turning and leaving the bedroom, the sound of your front door closing behind him audible a few moments later.

Bishop puts down his gun, returning his dextrous fingertips to your clit, circling slow and hard. “This pussy ain’t his any longer, is it, baby?”

“Oh, fuck no!”

“Who does it belong to now, hmm?” Stopping his circling, he slaps you a few times, your body jolting, your mouth dropping open. Shit, he’s too good.

“It’s yours, I’m yours!”

His tongue glides the column of your neck, pleasure trickling down your spine and puddling at your cunt, his cock glistening with your wetness. “Damn right, it is.”

A/N - Now, here you are at the end. Did you enjoy it? If so, PLEASE remember to comment and reblog to help me reach a bigger audience! Thanking you in advance :)

#bishop losa #bishop losa smut #bishop losa fanfiction #bishop losa smut drabble #bishop losa x reader #bishop losa x you #bishop losa fanfic #bishop losa fic #mayans mc #mayans mc fanfiction #mayans mc smut #mayans mc fic #mayans mc imagine #bisop losa imagine #michael irby #michael irby smut #michael irby fanfiction #michael irby x reader #michael irby x you

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sukirichi · 4 years

Note

omg sorry im the anon who picked too many spices i’m so sorry 😭😭 so let me try again: wine for yuuta, ingredient 53, and spice 8 10 11?

good for you

People said all bad things about him, how he wasn’t good for you, he was going to toy with you, he was someone you needed to stay away from, but that wasn’t true.

meal order: wine + 53 (bad boy good girl au) + 8, 10 (dumbification, begging kink)

warnings: nsfw content, fingering, dumbification, begging kink, slight voyeurism, slight corruption kink, bad boy! yuuta, unedited fic

note: soooo anon...i hope you like this, this is my first yuta fic and i was really nervous i was gonna mess this up, sheesh, hope you like it and thank you for the request! have some wine~

masterlist !

You were so good for him – it made sense you were his favorite.

The moment you felt his cold fingers graze under your shirt, fingers lightly tugging at the clasps of your bra as a promise of what was to come next, you shuddered from his touch. You leaned back to his body, your hand clutching his that was gripping your thigh.

“Yuta,” you bit your lip to hold back a moan, his expert hands sliding down your inner thighs to brush over your clothed cunt, teasing you to no end. “We-we shouldn’t.”

“And why not?” his husky voice sent shivers down your spine, and you gasped as his fingers tugged your panties away. He’d barely even touched you, yet you were soaking wet for him already. Two of his fingers slipped past your folds easily and you clamped down as he scissored you, finally releasing your bra and easing it off your shoulders. “They won’t know. We’re just studying, remember?”

Your relationship with Yuta was complicated, to say the least. Last month, your homeroom teacher assigned you to tutor him, and your eyes widened because the last person you expected to see was the notorious Okkotsu Yuta who barely attended school, preferring to live life in his own way.

He looked scary then; dark circles hanging heavily under amused eyes, slicked back hair that shone under the sunlight, and a half-sneer as an excuse for a smile.

He terrified you, until he didn’t. Contrary to what people said about him, how he wasn’t good for you, he was going to toy with you, he was someone you needed to stay away from, you never thought that way about Yuta. And he knew this too; he took advantage of your unconditional kindness, basking in your shy, soft touches and stuttering during study sessions whenever he stared at you a little longer than you expected.

You were so fucking cute he just couldn’t keep his hands off of you. He blamed you for it, really. He wouldn’t have been this addicted to the quiet, timid girl who followed rules and apologized way too much than necessary if you weren’t such a good girl for him.

But you were so cute, so curious and innocent that Yuta, being the more responsible and experienced one between the both of you, just had to give in to your pleas. Soon, your shy touches became eager ones, grinding on his thigh with your hands tugging at his collar while you begged for a kiss. You were so pretty too, always so ready and wanting for him, but oh, everything was different when you begged.

If he thought you were pretty before, it was nothing compared to when you begged.

Innocent eyes gazing up at him under thick lashes, small hands wrapped around the thick base of his cock, your pretty red lips begging to taste him – you were at your prettiest when you were begging for him, and how could he deny you?

It was because you were so good for him that he Yuta wasn’t selfish when it came to pleasing you, his cock hardening when your head fell back on his shoulders, lips open as wantons flooded through your lips. “Shh,” he chuckled with a kiss to your lips, his fingers pumping in and out of you until you were dripping down on his palm, the sopping sounds of your pussy nearly embarrassing. “You don’t want to be loud, baby, your parents will hear you.”

At the possibility of getting caught, your eyes widened, and you slapped your palm over your mouth to hide your sinful moans. Yuta’s eyes darkened as you trembled in his arms, trying so hard to be a good girl and keep your reputation, but the way you grinded down onto his fingers told a different story.

“Y-Yuta,” you cried out, reaching up to capture his lips in a kiss. He swallowed your moans while his other hand gripped your thighs tighter, your ass barely grazing his painful erection. “I need more, please, will you-will you-?”

“What do you want, baby? I can’t give it to you if you don’t tell me.”

Yuta smirked when you whimpered in his hold, your hips pumping up and down as you rode his fingers. It felt good, but it wasn’t enough. You knew he could give you more, and Yuta would gladly do anything for you as long as you said it.

The sight of you cumming all over his fingers, tits perked from under your shirt yet still looking so innocent from your shirt skirt – he could cum in his pants just watching you. But he held it all in, fully aware that you wanted him inside you, though your shyness still remained. Ironic, really, since Yuta had already lost count of the times he had to stuff your panties down your mouth as he dragged you to the nearest empty classroom, making you cum either just on his tongue or cock alone.

He figured he’d have ruined you by now, but you were just so good, such an innocent, pretty little thing that the mere mention of his dick had you flustered.

“Yuta, I can’t – you-you know what I mean,” you palmed him through his pants. Yuta hissed at how you pulled his cock out free from his confines, the warmth of your hand wrapping around his cock, the tip already flushed and red.

He gripped your wrist and pulled you towards him, resting your ass just above his cock. A dark look crossed his face when he saw you inhale sharply as he rubbed his tip all over your lips, your pink panties tugged all the way to the side, the material loosely clinging onto the fat of your flesh.

“Is this what you want,” he teased, hands placed on a tight grip of your hips as he slowly sank you down his length. He reveled at how you slowly lost yourself, thighs quaking, and it was just only the tip. “Do you deserve it, baby? Have you been a good girl for me that you think you deserve to feel good?”

“Yes, yes, of course!”

Your eyes were focused on the remaining length of his cock that wasn’t buried in you, and you were so needy, so fucking wet and horny that you wiggled your hips, a slight whine echoing from the room when Yuta only tightened his hips on you as a warning. “Don’t move,” he growled lowly, and like the good girl you were, you complied, bottom lip jutted out. “You don’t get to sit on my lap when you don’t beg hard enough for it, baby.”

“But, oh,” you tried to say, your words cut off when Yuta suddenly gripped your ass down all the way down his length in one go, your ass flat on his thighs.

Both of you groaned at the feeling of him buried deep inside you; you could feel him pulsing inside your heat already. Unsatisfied with your silence, Yuta slapped your ass, forcing you to look at him.

He was perfectly content with you cockwarming him; he could jack himself off later, but he knew you couldn’t satisfy yourself – not when your needy little cunt always wanted to be stuffed full with his dick.

“My parents are downstairs,” you tried to reason, though your actions betrayed your words as you dug your nails on his shoulders, eyes closed from the pleasure. Yuta gave small, slow thrusts, the movement just enough to scrape at your walls, almost as if to mock you that you could’ve had an orgasm by now if you just complied. “I-if they hear, they’re going to get mad, and they’ll find out that—”

“They’re going to find out what?” he thrusted his hips into yours sharply until your skirt was bunched all over your ass, his hands rough and hungry while he kept you in place. Your moans filled the room, and Yuta gripped one of your legs to press on your sides, thigh-high socks teasing and plumping up the flesh of your legs. “That their sweet, innocent daughter isn’t such a good girl after all? Look at you, walking around in school wearing that. You’re always begging to be fucked, baby.”

You didn’t deny him because his words were true, and soon Yuta had you choking in your own breath. He wanted to make you beg, to go down on your knees just to show him you deserved it, but you clenched down on him so hard that he lost himself too.

Yuta pulled you in for a heated kiss, his strong hands wrapping your legs around his waist before dropping you both down on the bed.

He didn’t bother pulling his shirt off, only jumping out of his slacks before he found home in between your legs. Yuta chuckled at how fucked out you were before him, teeth deep into one of your stuffed toys while he kept fucking into you.

He fell forward, hands planted beside your head, his dick scraping against the warm walls of your pussy.

You were close; he could feel it. Yuta picked up his pace and started littering lovemarks on your neck, somewhere people could see his markings and to claim you as his good girl.

You were such a good girl for him, letting him pump himself into you in a rough pace until you could no longer hold back your moans. “Yuta, Yuta, god, you-you feel so good, right there, oh,” you were a mess on his cock, drool collecting from your pillow and tongue lolled out.

He found you so pretty, so gorgeous and so good; screaming his name like that even as your parents called out to ask if you were fine just because you knew he liked it when you said his name while you were stuffed with his cock.

“Come on, baby,” he gripped your waist this time, not slowing down for a moment as his thrusts grew sloppy. Yuta’s dick twitched and pulsed harder inside you when your walls hugged him tightly, sucking him in too deep that he was hitting your most sensitive spots. “You’re close, aren’t you? You want to cum on my cock? Beg for it, come on.”

“Yuta, Yuta, please please please, want to cum on your cock, want you to fill me up,” your back arched when he hit your g-spot, your vision turning white for a moment. “Fuck, fuck, Yuta, fuck me good – please, I want you, there, please!”

His dick only further hardened upon hearing such dirty words fall from your pretty lips. You were begging so good for him, following his orders and making him feel good with your pretty pussy – how could he deny you? People said all bad things about him, how he wasn’t good for you, he was going to toy with you, he was someone you needed to stay away from, but that wasn’t true.

He kept fucking into you until you were creaming onto his cock, his name falling like a prayer on your wet mouth, losing all your sanity and comprehension when he spills inside you, your cum dripping down your ass.

Yuta chuckled before leaning down to kiss his pretty girl, so good for him, but what they didn’t know was that the bad boy was just as good for you, and he never failed to make you feel good.

They called him a bad boy, labeled him all sorts of things, warned you so much of the dangers he brought.

Everyone was just simply unaware how he good he was for you.

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