#World Dense Breast Day

[nationaldaycalendar]

September 28, 2022 - WORLD DENSE BREAST DAY - NATIONAL GOOD NEIGHBOR DAY – NATIONAL DRINK BEER DAY – NATIONAL WOMEN’S HEALTH AND FITNESS DAY – NATIONAL STRAWBERRY CREAM PIE DAY – NATIONAL NORTH CAROLINA DAY

September 28, 2022 – WORLD DENSE BREAST DAY – NATIONAL GOOD NEIGHBOR DAY – NATIONAL DRINK BEER DAY – NATIONAL WOMEN’S HEALTH AND FITNESS DAY – NATIONAL STRAWBERRY CREAM PIE DAY – NATIONAL NORTH CAROLINA DAY

SEPTEMBER 28, 2022 | WORLD DENSE BREAST DAY | NATIONAL GOOD NEIGHBOR DAY | NATIONAL DRINK BEER DAY | NATIONAL WOMEN’S HEALTH AND FITNESS DAY | NATIONAL STRAWBERRY CREAM PIE DAY | NATIONAL NORTH CAROLINA DAY WORLD DENSE BREAST DAY | Last Wednesday in September We highlight World Dense Breast Day on the last Wednesday in September to raise awareness about the importance of breast screening, breast…

[philistiniphagottini]

Zenith

Jing Yuan suddenly got me in a choke hold and I just had to write something for him ahhhh, so have this while I work on other stuff :)

cw. penetrative sex, cuddle fuck, fingering (fem receiving) fem! reader, implied cubby reader, fluff, 3.9k words, MDNI

nsfw below the cut

Rain was rare on the Xianzhou Luofu. You could smell the fresh dewdrops of water when you were roused from your slumber in the early hours of the morning. Light struggled to creep through under your curtains and the soft pitter patter was tempting you to fall back to sleep and simply slumber the day away. But the warm press of your partner's body behind you coaxed you to stay in the waking world.

Large, warm, hands weathered by countless battles slipped under your night shirt, curious fingertips tracing over your soft and delicate features. A pleased hum stirred in the back of your throat as Jing Yuan’s hands squeezed your soft belly, fingers sinking into generous amounts of skin until the soft pudge spilled over. The feeling made you squirm in his grasp, your back hitting the solid wall of his muscular chest as you tried to retreat from his grabby hands. A warm chuckle breezed past his lips, his breath hot against the back of your neck when he spoke.

"Good morning, my little sparrow" Jing Yuan greeted, his voice thick and gruff against the shell of your ear.

You lay your small hands over his, rubbing your thumb across his knuckles as you tipped your head back.

"Good morning" you replied.

You stifled the loud yawn that tried to crawl out of your throat as you huddled yourself closer to Jing Yuan’s alluring warmth, your chest feeling light as he pawed at your stomach like a needy cat pining for your attention. He pressed his lips to your shoulder with a contented noise rumbling in his chest, the vibrations sending pleasant chills to creep down your spine and pool in the pit of your stomach. You rubbed your hand along his arm as he continued to knead and paw at your pliant body, another fleeting kiss pressed to your shoulder making you jolt in his grasp. His affections made the corners of your mouth twitch with a faint smile as his larger frame curled protectively around you, the heat of his skin licking at your body like the flames of an open furnace.

"You’re in a good mood this morning" you commented. "Did you have pleasant dreams?"

Jing Yuan hummed in response, rubbing himself further into your embrace as he dragged his lips across the sensitive skin on your back until every hair on the nape of your neck stood up in anticipation.

"I always have pleasant dreams with you by my side" Jing Yuan confessed, his fingers walking over your stomach as they slowly crept higher up your shirt.

A sharp gasp tumbled from your parted lips when you felt something hard press up against the fat of your ass. A lightbulb suddenly sparked in your head and everything was starting to make a lot more sense now. You shivered in delight when you felt his hands cup the swell of your breasts, squeezing the soft mounds together as his lips grazed the shell of your ear.

"Mmhmm, you’re so warm my little dove" he purred with a husky whisper of your name, cuddling further against you. “Do you mind sharing some of it with me in this cold weather?”

You leaned into his touch as he squeezed your breasts once more, expert fingers easily finding your pebbling nipples and teasing the pert tips with short tugs. You rubbed your thighs together as your core throbbed, pussy already dripping wet as your mind started to cloud with lustful thoughts. Each press of Jing Yuan’s lips against your heated skin only made the haze in your mind thicker and you struggled to think past the dense fog long enough to speak.

"Don’t you have work today?" you asked.

A salacious moan bubbled up your throat as Jing Yuan pinched the back of your neck with his teeth, playfully biting on your supple skin as his hands squeezed at your breasts. Your soft noises were almost drowned out by the rain that continued to pour outside, wet droplets spattering against the windows as the wind softly howled.

"This is more important" Jing Yuan decided.

You sighed wistfully. Damn, you couldn’t argue with that. Well, you tried. And with that, you decided to completely give in to Jing Yuan’s whims. A purr of delight rumbled in his throat when you shifted beneath him, rolling over to face him and eagerly plant your lips upon his. You placed your hands on his chest, feeling his thunderous heartbeat pulsing rhythmically against your palms as you kneaded at his pillowy chest. You weren’t the only one to be blessed with fat tits. Jing Yuan moaned as he tasted the shape of your mouth, golden eyes gleaming with elation as you kissed him slowly, savouring the taste of him melting on your tongue. His hands slipped down your waist as he intimately devoured your mouth, swallowing your soft mewls and eager moans as his hands discarded your nightwear. Even when your clothes were discarded it did little to relieve you of the stifling heat of your bodies tangling further under the sheets.

Your head felt dizzy when you parted from the kiss, a thin strand of saliva breaking when Jing Yuan swooped down and caught your lips in another passionate embrace. Your pulse pounded in your ears as you swiftly pushed down his pants, your heart racing wildly in your chest when you felt the fat head of his dripping cock slap against your stomach.

"When was the last time I indulged in you?" Jing Yuan mused as he nuzzled his nose into your soft cheek.

You hummed in thought as you drummed your fingers along his stomach, feeling the muscles flex under your touch as he pressed himself into the palm of your hand. You weren’t sure about the answer to his question. It could have been a few days ago? Perhaps a week or more? It was hard to keep track of with his hectic schedule. But there was one thing you were sure of.

"Too long" you replied.

A chuckle rumbled in his chest, eyes burning like pools of molten gold as he gave you a fond smile. "Allow me to rectify that."

You squeaked as he suddenly wedged his leg between your thighs and effortlessly hoisted you further up the mattress. You tangled your hands in his wild mane of hair to hold on, your face burning with a mix of shame and arousal when your slick pussy slid across his muscular thigh. A coy smile painted the general’s lips as his hands curled around your hips, holding you steady as he peered up at you beneath long, dark lashes. He didn’t have to say a single word. His smug face said it all.

"Ass" you gently scolded.

A feline grin tugged at his lips as he nudged his face between the scorching valley of your tits, peering up at you with an innocent look.

"What have I done to deserve your ire, wifey?"

You sighed. "Nothing dear. Just keep kissing me."

You leaned down and gently pecked his lips, trailing your kisses up between his relaxed brow before kissing his forehead. You tugged on his soft hair, earning you a throaty groan as Jing Yuan dragged his bruised lips over your soft breasts, enjoying how you leaned into each touch with a shuddering breath. One hand slipped between your thighs as his mouth toyed with your plush chest, his fingers skimming along the soft insides of your thighs. You whined into his hair when his fingers ghosted across your wet slit, your pussy throbbing in response to his addictive touch.

"My, my, so wet, already flowing like a river…"

There was a witty reply rattling around somewhere in your brain but you could hardly focus when Jing Yuan was busy emptying your pretty head of every single thought. You could only whimper in response as his thumb brushed against the pretty pearl of your clit, the nerves flushing to life as heat rapidly coiled in the pit of your stomach. Your eyelashes brushed against your burning cheeks, eyes threatening to slip close against the onslaught of bliss as Jing Yuan’s fingers parted your creamy folds like a delicate flower in bloom. He knew exactly which spot to touch to render you into a speechless puddle of goo in the palm of his hand. Jing Yuan hummed into your chest, sharp teeth latching onto a rosy tip and sucking the soft bud into his warm mouth. A wet sob tore from your throat when his tongue pressed against the sensitive tip, the white-hot nerve sending a jolt of electricity crackling down your spine and making your toes curl into the soles of your feet. You buried your burning face into his hair, the familiar scent of his shampoo comforting as a thick finger sank into your fluttering hole. Your grip in his silky locks tightened, threatening to rip his hair out at the roots as he buried his finger all the way up to the knuckle in you. Your plush walls clenched around him, your pussy drooling slick into the palm of his hand as he pumped the thick digit into you. Your hips shuddered as you grind down onto his finger, pussy trying to swallow him faster as the heat inside you coiled and twisted like an untamed inferno.

"Jing Yuan…fuck" you whispered breathlessly. "Fuck, baby it feels so good."

Jing Yuan purred in content in response, a second finger teasing your opening as his thumb continued to circle your clit, drawing out your pleasure with each flick of his wrist. You hissed softly as a second finger slipped inside of you, the stretch causing a light burning sensation at the apex of your thighs as he scissored you open. Jing Yuan let go of your breast with a wet pop, cooing your name softly as he nuzzled his face into your chest.

"Shh, love. It’s okay. You’re doing so well for me, my good girl."

His words made your walls flutter around his fingers, the digits curling as the tips brushed against the soft, gummy patch inside of you that made stars waver in your vision. You struggled to keep your eyes open as your breathing wavered. Your gaze lingered on the nightstand at the other end of the bed. You reached out with your hands and tried to crawl closer. You couldn’t get far as you pushed further against Jing Yuan’s body, a pleased moan stirring deep in the back of his throat as his face was squished between your fat tits. His cock jumped between your legs, the drooling tip slapping against the soft insides of your thighs as his head was trapped in such pillowy comfort.

"Where are you going, little love?" he asked with an amused lilt to his voice.

You strained to reach the other side of the bed and with a small huff you gave up.

"Lube" you said.

Jing Yuan sighed with amusement. He removed his fingers from your slick warmth, your pussy clenching around nothing and mourning the loss of feeling full as your husband reached for the bottle of lube in his nightstand. You gently pet his hair, teasing out the tangles you had caused as the drawer to his nightstand shut with a dull thud. Without tearing his gaze away from your sumptuous body, Jing Yuan popped the lid of the small bottle and let some of the contents pour onto his fingers. He made sure they were generously coated before his hand reached back between your sticky thighs. You tipped your head back with a sweet moan when two fingers pushed back into you with little resistance, the lube lathering your pussy until pearls of it were creating rivulets down the insides of your plush thighs. Jing Yuan placed a soft kiss on the swell of your breasts as he smiled lazily up at you.

"Does that feel good, pretty girl?"

You nodded, teeth nibbling at your lips as soft mewls clawed their way out of the back of your throat. You scratched your nails along the nape of his neck, the heat in your stomach burning brightly with a renewed fire as you rocked your hips along to the probe of his fingers. His free hand curled around your waist to rest on the beautiful dip of your back, pushing against it and urging you to press closer and be smothered by the heat of his scorching skin. You whined softly; lips pressed into his hair as your entire body trembled with longing.

"Jing Yuan, put it inside me" you softly begged.

"Now?" he teased.

You nodded, fingers curling around the baby hairs on the back of his neck and desperately tugging. "Yes now."

"And what was it that you needed?"

You sighed sharply. The fierce rain outside had nothing on the fierce storm that was currently brewing inside of you. Your hands slipped around Jing Yuan’s handsome face to cup his cheeks. You tilted his head back, your forehead pressed against his as you stared down at him. His cat like smirk was present as he stared back into your dazed eyes, patiently waiting for you to peel your tongue off the roof of your mouth to form a coherent response.

"Cock. In. Me. Now."

He grinned. "Anything for you, my sparrow."

His fingers slipped out of you once more and you didn’t mourn the loss this time, anticipating what was to come. Jing Yuan’s slicked hand dropped to his swollen length, fingers wrapping around hardened warmth. His jaw tensed as he hissed through clenched teeth, moaning softly as he roughly pumped his cock a few times to spread a combination of lube and your arousal along the length. Once he was adequately slicked up, he started to lower you, the head of his cock brushing against your silky lips. You both shared a moan, his grip on your body tightening as he guided the tip of his cock to catch on your sopping entrance. He nuzzled his cheek against yours, words so soft that you almost didn’t hear it over the drizzling rain.

"Take a deep breath for me, sweet girl."

You took a deep breath just as he started pushing forward, his cock piercing your centre. Your arms immediately coiled around his neck to hold yourself steady, stretching around his thick girth. He was stretching you with such dizzying ease your arms started to tremble, a constellation of tears clinging to the corners of your lashes as the feeling of him finally filling you made you ache. Your nails scratched along his back, his spine curving in delight as you left behind angry, red welts in his flesh, marks he would wear proudly and think fondly of. Your lungs pinched in your chest as Jing Yuan slung your leg over his hip, helping him to penetrate you deeper until you were completely stuffed full of him. His lips were a soothing balm against your skin as he kissed you, your face now tucked into the crook of his neck as he sheathed his cock into your pussy.

"Are you okay little dove?" Jing Yuan asked, voice laced with concern.

You nodded gently, arms squeezing around his thick neck as your tears of bliss wet his skin. Aeons, you didn’t realise how much you needed him until he was one with you like this. His cock completely crowded your poor pussy, every thick vein lining his girth steadily pulsing inside your soused walls and sending your mind reeling from the overwhelming pleasure. Your stomach bunched itself into tight knots as Jing Yuan placed his warm hands on your hips, his lips kissing the crown of your head as he buried his nose in your hair. He took a deep breath, your intoxicating scent curling deep in the pit of his lungs and making his blood simmer hotly in his veins. He nudged his hips forward, teasing his cock a little deeper into your plush walls until you cried out.

He started to move slowly, the pace of his hips moving with no sense of urgency as he repeatedly buried his cock into your pussy over and over again. Your arms tensed around his neck as you panted into the crook of his neck, his skin boiling against yours as he rocked his hips into you. A warm purr rumbled in his chest as your tongue tasted the perspiration clinging to his skin, lips sucking on his Adam’s apple as your senses started to spin out of control. You could feel his cock moving intimately beneath your skin, your eyes catching a glimpse of the cute bump forming in your soft belly every time you looked down to see where your bodies were joined in fervid rapture. Jing Yuan’s lips brushed against your forehead as he softly cooed, hands squeezing at the scruff of your ass as he yanked you closer, your soft cries muffled into his skin as he bounced you along his cock.

"You’re making such sweet noises for me" Jing Yuan praised. "Am I making you feel good?"

"So good" you moaned, softly slurring your words.

You could barely hold onto the fraying edges of your sanity. Every white-hot nerve in your body was shocking you like a live wire as the pressure in your stomach grew rapidly, your eyes rolling into the back of your head every time Jing Yuan massaged his cock against your soft walls. You could feel the drooling head of his cock fill your belly with sticky warmth, the fat head smothered against your cervix and aching to release. Your heart felt like it was stuck in your throat as your plush walls started to flutter, desperately trying to swallow Jing Yuan whole as your body teetered on the brink. Your toes curled as you dug your foot into his thigh, trying to drag him closer which was impossible with how tightly you were both already pressed to each other. He kissed your cheek sweetly, his golden gaze catching your teary eyes.

"Is my pretty little song bird going to cum now?"

A soft noise rumbled in your chest as you nodded along dumbly. You moaned harshly as Jing Yuan jammed his thumb against the hood of your clit, rubbing the nerve in tight circles as he pressed his lips to the shell of your ear, tongue tracing the curve of your lobe as his hot breath tickled your skin.

"Then make a mess for your general."

You screamed so loud you were sure that not even the crack of thunder was able to drown it out. The coil inside of you snapped as you screamed with rapture, your veins flooded with white hot relief as fireworks exploded in your stomach. Jing Yuan growled as your pussy squeezed him so tight he thought you were going to strangle him, his boiling cock twitching as your juices gushed around him. You stained his thighs and abdomen with thin threads of translucent fluid as you continued to whine with bliss. He worked you through your pleasure high, drawing out every single drop of your bliss before he allowed himself to finally give in and have the delight of filling your womb with his viscous seed. His hips shuddered as he grew still inside of you, his cock kicking as he painted your insides with thick ropes of white.

You whimpered softly as the heat blossomed across your abdomen, the feeling of his seed filling you to the brim causing the pleasure to mount rapidly in you once more. You twisted in his hold as he dragged his lips across your jaw, keeping you firmly planted on his cock as the pleasure threatened to take hold of you once more.

"Yuan, gonna cum again" you mewled softly.

Jing Yuan hummed in response, tongue briefly dipping past your bruised lips as he tasted the sweetness of your mouth. He smiled softly.

"It’s okay. I’m here. You’re safe. Let go."

Another searing burst of his thick seed pumping into your overly stuffed pussy made your eyes roll so hard into the back of your head you thought your skull was going to explode. Amidst the overwhelming heat you felt your body tip over the edge again into the gaping maw of oblivion, coil in your stomach unfurling as your pussy squeezed his cock snug. Jing Yuan purred like a contented cat on a lazy afternoon as you writhed so deliciously for him, your reactions so endearing to him that he only wished to keep indulging in everything you had to offer like the filthy beggar he was.

The sheets between your bodies were completely soaked by your own fluids, your second orgasm still running rampant through your system as your head refused to come down from the clouds just yet. Jing Yuan pressed his lips into your clammy skin over and over again, whispering praises and reassurances until his voice melted into your ears like warm honey. Your body felt incredibly warm and light as you cuddled into the general, your heart slowly settling back inside your chest as you tried to regain control of your frantic breaths. Jing Yuan massaged his hands along your sore hips, rubbing soothing circles into your soft skin as he pinched the fat of your thighs between the gaps of his fingers.

He gently coaxed you onto your back as he removed his softening cock with a loud and wet pop. His stare lingered on the apex of your thighs, watching his thick cum leaking from your overstimulated pussy and cascade down your legs like a flowing river. The sight of your round belly so full of him only stirred his appetite once more. He hadn’t indulged in you enough yet. He pressed his nose into the soft pudge of your stomach as he nestled himself comfortably between your parted thighs, readying himself to descend on his favourite place of worship. The smell of your arousal was making his mouth water.

"You look so beautiful, little dove" Jing Yuan cooed as he rubbed his hands along your thighs. "I could just eat you up."

You hummed in content as you stretched your arms high over your head, grabbing onto the fluffy pillow that supported your head as Jing Yuan’s mouth descended between your legs. You noticed that the rain outside had finally decided to taper off, rays of sunshine trying to pierce through the dark clouds. A thoughtful noise rumbled in your chest when you glanced at the time.

"What about breakfast?"

"My meal is right here" Jing Yuan replied, fingers pushing against your puffy folds until your sex opened up and prompted another thick trickle of his seed to gush out of the hole he had been so passionately fucking.

You snorted softly with laughter, your chuckles turning into soft moans as Jing Yuan dragged his tongue through your creamy folds and tasted your sweet nectar.

"Fu Xuan is gonna be cranky when she finds out you’re shirking your duties~"

You squealed when Jing Yuan sank his teeth into the fat of your thigh, growling playfully before letting go of your skin. A cheeky smile tugged at his shining lips before he blew cool air against your twitching clit, coaxing the small bud to flush back to life.

"Let her be. Spending time with you is much more important" Jing Yuan replied.

You sighed wistfully. "Okay. I’ll send her a text that you’re too busy knuckle deep in my pussy to come in to work today."

Jing Yuan scoffed. "How scandalous. Do it" he said before promptly stuffing his mouth with your gorgeous pussy.

[h0neylevi]

post-war, canonverse, semi-public sex, fingering, fem!reader, some light degradation, dry humping, MDNI

w/c: ~ 1630

Everything has been so new lately.

Moving to Marley after the war had been an easy decision, but that didn’t mean the physical act of settling into a new place wasn’t without its hurdles. Mostly, it was about adjusting—getting used to the advances in technology that wasn’t present on Paradis. Telephones, cars, radios, even electric stoves were commonplace things that Levi still marveled at.

And then, there was also you.

More specifically, the way you’d both found yourselves quite suddenly thrust into a life after war, a life without titans and the looming threat of death hanging over your heads like a dense fog. 

As former comrades, it only made sense once the smoke cleared to navigate this new world together. And Levi was more than happy to experience all manner of firsts at your side.

It’s through this different layer of companionship that Levi learns so many new things about you. How you like your eggs in the morning, how tired you get after having too much pasta, the way the hair at the back of your head always sticks up the next day if you go to sleep with it still wet. He learns how you organize your books on your shelves (by size) and how when you’re having a bad day and tell him to leave you alone, you don’t actually mean it.

He’s always known how to make you laugh, but after eight months of living together under the same roof, he learns how to make you moan. It’s a sound he’d like to bottle forever, the sight of your body arched beneath him a vision too precious to look away for even a second. Even with only one good eye, he soaks it in like you’re a dream that’ll fade if he blinks.

He learns that he likes kissing, and you do too. So, when you lean across the center console of his brand new car at Marley’s drive-in movie theater one summer night, he doesn’t think much of it. At least, not until your hands start wandering and he finds himself pulled into the backseat.

You give him very little time to recover from the surprise of being pulled from his seat before your lips are on his again. The leather of the upholstery groans as you straddle his narrow waist and on instinct, Levi reaches out, eyes still closed as he guides you onto his lap.

His palm splays over the skirt of your dress, hiking it up a little in his haste. When he feels the fabric, he pulls away slightly.

He gently squeezes your thigh, watching the cloth bunch a little in his grasp. The sound of your breath hitching in your throat makes him look up. “What’s got you so worked up, hm?”

Above him, forming words feels borderline impossible. Not while his thumb is drawing circles on the inside of your thigh and he’s looking up at you through those delightfully full lashes. It strikes you that this facet of your relationship is still relatively new, so the warmth on your cheeks doesn’t feel out of place when you swallow around your meekness and say, “You.”

“Me?” Levi’s brows raise, but he thinks he gets it. The moment you’d walked out of your room in this little number, his mind had gone straight to the gutter.

Like he’s revisiting the memory, his hands begin to slowly trail every part of you his eyes drift over—thumbs tracing the tantalizing curve of your breasts, down the silky material over your waist before resting his palms on your hips. When he gives you another subtle squeeze, you roll against him, feeling the hardening outline of his cock through his trousers against your core.

“Can’t help it,” you breathe out slowly, like you're making every effort to remain composed, but the strain in your voice betrays the neediness beneath. 

Your palms drift over the soft fabric of his shirt, moving over firm muscle. They’re not as defined as they once were, but you relish in his solid warmth all the same. Enamored by him, always.

He lets you explore unimpeded. You’ve always been handsy—checking him for signs of injury or illness when he inevitably pushed himself too far during expeditions. Now he’s grown used to the way that protective tendency has turned into an act of appreciation and fondness. It makes something light and airy form in his chest when you lean down again to kiss him.

“These windows aren’t tinted,” he says a moment later. The warning is half-hearted and murmured mostly against your lips, in conflict with the way his hands keep you anchored where you are.

His feeble hesitation makes you laugh.

You settle further into his lap, nearly chest to chest now. You can feel the way his breathing has grown labored against you. “No one’s looking at us, Levi.”

It is dark, at least. He has enough sense still to acknowledge that the large screen up front will be capturing most peoples’ attention, even though it’s currently in an intermission right now. There are only fifteen minutes between the double features tonight. A shame, he thinks. When it comes to you especially, he always likes to take his time.

You move your attention to the curve of his jaw, peppering hot, pillowy kisses down the expanse of his neck before suckling the sensitive flesh of his clavicle, and every thought not focused on the present stops. 

He closes his eyes, caught between the feeling of your lips on his neck and your warm cunt gliding over his cockhead. Even through several layers of clothes, pleasure rushes through him with each rut of your hips. You’re so warm and pretty that it’s dizzying.

In retaliation, a thumb swipes over your clothed clit, and Levi smirks when your movements almost completely stop. Behind you, the large screen lights up and Levi watches in the soft blue light as you lean back slightly, mouth slightly agape in a silent gasp.

“Never took you for an exhibitionist,” he says, the reflection of the movie behind you mirrored in his unclouded iris.

Before you can say anything, he hooks two fingers around your panties and pulls them to the side, sliding the digits through the arousal that’s already beginning to soak into the cotton.

“I-I’m not,” you attempt to defend, but the protest comes out weak and shaky with his movements.

“Is that right?” Levi asks, his tone mildly condescending. “Well, the fact that you’re grinding on top of me right now says otherwise.”

The pressure of his fingers on your cunt makes it difficult to think. If you were in your right mind, you might be embarrassed about the way the windows have started to fog, but you can only be grateful for the extra coverage.

The air is thick and your body feels like it’s on fire. Every brush of Levi’s fingers on your skin sends you aflame. His injured hand anchors you in place, thumb rubbing soothing circles into the flesh of your hip while his other hand continues to pick you apart, making your knees quiver.

Your voice is a strained gasp against the shell of his ear. “Like you’re not hard already just from kissing.”

“I never said I wasn’t.”

The hand on your hip lowers, and for a moment you think he’s gesturing for you to get up, but the new position allows his other hand to slide down. Two fingers quickly bottom out inside your cunt.

Your features pinch with the effort it takes to keep yourself quiet.

“There you go,” Levi coos, smug as your fingers struggle for purchase on his shoulders. “Is that what you wanted?”

His cock, his fingers, his mouth. All three. You want to tell him that you’d gladly take anything he’d give you, but all you can do is pant uselessly into his neck and try to hold on.

“Couldn’t wait until we got home, hm?” Levi continues, his fingers pumping and curling in such a way to make you see stars in your vision. “Needy thing.”

You clench around him, spurred on by his words. “Levi.”

He keeps talking, undeterred. A glow appears in his eyes as you rock into his palm, meeting his movements. “Dirty girl, fucking my fingers like this in the open.”

Pleasure coils in your belly. You grasp helplessly against his sturdy neck, cheeks burning and nails dragging over the soft fuzz of his undercut as it continues to build and build. The pressure of his thumb on your clit pulls all of your muscles taut.

When your moans become wispy and delicate gasps of air, he knows you’re right on the edge.

“Let go, sweetheart,” Levi murmurs. “You can come.”

Your orgasm hits you like a train. With a single gasp of his name, you come undone. Levi holds you through it as you shudder and spasm, his free arm now wrapped around your waist.

When you pull back, your eyes are bleary and content. Every muscle in your body seems to relax against him.

Levi pulls his hand from between your legs. “Satisfied?”

“Mmm,” is all you can manage. The aftershocks still continue to wash over you, making you feel boneless and tired.

When they subside, you give him a quick peck and slide off of his lap, climbing back into the front passenger seat.

Levi follows with a grunt. When he settles back into the driver’s seat, he buckles his seatbelt and starts the car.

You turn, confused. “What are you doing? The movie isn’t over.”

Slowly, he eases out of the parking spot toward the exit. Just before he turns onto the road, he gives you an incredulous look.

“You think I can focus on anything else after that?” From the streetlight above, you can finally see the deep shade of pink tinting his neck and face. “I’m taking you home so I can really make you scream.”

[ur-mousey]

Yandere Geto, who wants the fem reader he's been pursuing to just let him do everything for her. From little stuff like open jars, getting her snacks, and cleaning the table. To bigger stuff, like paying her bills, cooking for her every night, driving her everywhere, feeding her, bathing her.

But she constantly denies that she needs any help and has and will always be independent and she won't let him. Until one day, she "magically" gets fired from her job, and he is invited to her crying session of how she can't handle everything that's happening to her and she wishes she could get some help with everything (which is exactly what geto has been wishing for!)

Geto would obviously take it many steps too far and have her live with him and he would do everything for her, only letting her be his girl and shower him with love like she does in his dream world.

You Need Me ~

Yandere! Geto Suguru x F!Reader

Part Two

warning mature, smut, caregiver kink, manipulation, mastrubation, dependency, dub-con. 2.2k

..............................

You tried not to lose yourself to the temptations of your lover. He had once again cooked breakfast. He spoke gentle words of what today's outing would bring as he brought spoons of rice porridge, decorated atop with apples doused in honey, to your mouth and his. Your giddy squeal caused your boyfriend to chuckle. It was no use fighting Geto Suguru on the small stuff. He laid out a modest outfit of lilac wool to protect you against the forecasted winds without prompt. It was not something that you previously owned. You knew he had spent more money on it than you would've liked.

But, you'll find another time to knock sense into him. Suguru had you purring at the touch of his fingers. He combed through your hair that he tended to like a precious flower. And he rocked your body with his as he captured the final morning hours from your couch. You relaxed into his motion. Today marked four years together, and the last thing you wanted to ruin the mood was a simple present.

His lips fretted along your neck, dancing around bloomed hickeys. At each nip, your hand squeezed tighter at your breast. Suguru told you it's about time you relented to his demands. He wanted you to be his completely, and the implications didn't go over your head.

Becoming his would mean losing so much.

If he could, he would do everything for you. He already commanded a budding ache to pool in your stomach. And with your soiled undies, he had an excuse to bathe, dress, and take care of your laundry.

He loved doing it all for you despite your hesitation. And, you'll allow yourself to sink deeper into his command, only for today.

>>>

Geto thought of you as a little feather duckling. You waddled through life with your head held high. Constantly, your attention floated away from him, bouncing from shop to shop. He admired how enamored a single trinket locked behind storefronts could make you. If you would let him, he would buy it all for you, but you rejected it all with a smile. And you continued on, skipping as he gripped your hand in his. 

Now, your guidance led you two in the line of a famous bakery, where you proceeded to talk his ear off about the different cooking styles of bread. Why you would know that wasn't of that much concern. 

You tended to fill your head with meaningless factoids.

Geto had your M.O. figured. You were at surface level, either dense of the world around you or purposely stupid. You could find humanity in depraved places, including him. Six years ago was his undoing when you walked off that bus. Geto had sat out in the rice fields, a cigarette lit in the night air. His chest heaved. He understood Shoko's habits a little more. The burn distracted him. He wanted to go wild. It was his last-ditch effort to control the bloodlust. Earlier, he had disposed of his parents.

Their corpses were now lost. Remnants of them scattered across the small village which Geto had camped at. He could barely keep his lips from an upturned smirk. He was ever closer to his ideals. A world for the sorcerers.

Without a low-life monkey in sight, he hummed a faint tune. Tainted in smoke. Then, a city bus stopped ahead of him.

Only you had walked off. At that moment, Geto's leg twitched. Hair of yours smacked against the backdrop. A flush of warmth washed over your smiling face. You yapped goodwill onto the driver. He could hear the traces of your thankfulness in the breeze. Your mouth never once settled into quietness. You hopped in place, and both your feet never landed in tandem.

Geto regarded the interaction. Minutes dragged into each other. You wore a student uniform. Considering the time, he assumed you were back from cram school. You bowed, and with a wave, the driver set into motion. And you had made your way to him.

What a setting to a romance that you were naively unaware of.

He still remembered how you had fretted over his well-being. You had paced the dirt road, throwing rapid-fire questioning at him pertaining to his identity, afraid he contracted amnesia. You'd wondered aloud if you should personally walk him home or call the local police to escort him. You even called him a drunkard after he'd explicitly corrected the statement. He found you amusing. "Working yourself over nothin'," He had scoffed. You replied:

"It isn't just nothin'! You're on the side of the road. And I can't leave you here. Whatever got you hating the world is your problem. But, I can't have you throwin' yourself away in the fields."

At your core, below the surface, you were weaker than a monkey. You were a fragile duckling. You continued, "I don't help all drunkards. I'm here, helping you 'cause it looks like you wanna die." You had failed to see him as a threat or as a man. He couldn't get you out of his head.

Pure curiosity turned into an intangible obsession. Humanity could rot for all Geto cared. He would see to it. However, the thought of you, his precious duckling, smeared by the monkey's malice, set his cells on fire. You stood the fairest in a world riddled with cruelness. 

He had given you enough freedom. He needed to foster your warmth behind closed doors. Soon, he planned to rip everything from you out of love. This world, this city you loved dearly, is riddled with curses born from the inherent will of those monkeys. And Geto would be damned if his dreams weren't realized and he couldn't have you at his side. He'd force you to depend on him entirely. 

"Suguuu~ Are you paying attention? What do you want?" You pushed a finger against his chest. You motioned towards all the baked goods. You pouted and dawned a mocking tone, "I guess I'll have to buy you my favorite treat."

"Buy?" Geto gave a slight sneer. "You sure know how to piss me off. I got you, don't I?" He pulled your hips into him, resting his head atop yours. "Y'a know I pay." He had given you enough freedom. Truly.

>>>

You couldn't believe your luck today. You had slept past your alarm. Cuddled in the comfort of your boyfriend's arm. While in your rush to get ready, you felt unease. Your doting lover, Suguru, sat back in bed and observed. You fought the urge to cry and throw a fit.

You wanted him to carry you on his shoulder as he powered through your routine, not you. It might seem ridiculous to most, but you relied on Suguru's guidance. It was shocking enough that he didn't wake you for work. You'd awoken to his pointed stare, nonjudgmental as if he expected you to figure out your mistake.

Your nerves worsened as you went through your morning routine. The fact that he didn't pounce you for dressing yourself made you insecure. Was he mad at you? What did you do? Was he not in love with you anymore?

It was his digression, after all. He decided what you wore and what you ate for breakfast. While you playfully nagged and snatched at things to do it yourself. Yet, Suguru insisted until you relented.

That was the routine.

It's been a month since your anniversary. Suguru assured you at first that work kept him more days than not. He rarely had a night off like yesterday to cuddle in your bed. But, the signs of distance grew.

He was more in his head. Last night, when you initiated, hoping that he would coax an orgasm from you, he denied. Opting for a shower. Suguru never came back to relieve your hormones. He prepared the both of you for bed, halfheartedly so. It broke your heart.

"Sugu. Baby," You called over your shoulder. "I'm heading off to work. I should be home around five. I love you."

No response.

You gathered yourself, tripping over yourself. You crashed into the door, hissing as your finger flew back with the weight of your purse. A frustrated groan accompanied your head smacking the door. No signs of Suguru coming to your aid. Maybe you weren't made for it. Being an adult meant being able to ready oneself. And you were an utter failure with your boyfriend's aid.

You shook your head, gathering your last sliver of courage, and left your desolate apartment.

And, the series of misfortune continued. The trains were crowded that you had to missed two possible trips, you got harassed by some weirdo with blue pigtails, and lastly, you were at your latest to work. The worst hasn't come to pass. It was typical to feel berated over the phone due to the callers's unsatisfactory complaints. But, by lunch, you were over the mean-spirited words. You fiddled with pens and nicknacks coating your desk. You wanted to reconcile. You love him. You need him. You recognized your sense of loss without him. In four more hours, you'd make things right in your relationship.

How? You didn't quite know that. Maybe cook a romantic dinner? Before you could figure that all out, your superior collected you.

>>>

Geto tided your place. First, he organized your footwear into the shoe cupboard, which you would neglect to restock. He had done it all for you since you moved into this apartment separate from him. You had fallen here. He wondered which shoe you tripped over. That accident of yours wouldn't have happened under his care. It took all his energy to neglect your pleading gaze for help. His cock threatened to take over his head. He desperately wanted to fuck that look off of you.

You needed him. That fact was evident enough. You had even chosen a pair of flats, too tight on your heels. Geto meant to throw them out, however, this past month, he's disregarded his tasks. You had to learn that you needed him.

You made it seem like a bad thing to rely on him. You fussed when he took the initiative to open jars and heavy set doors. You fumed at the mention of living with him or him paying rent when you were low.

Was it all that bad to be reliant on him when that's all he wanted from you? He then set aside a pair of slides to alleviate your pain if needed. But, your heart wouldn't be in it. Geto knew that today would be filled with stress. Therefore, he will relieve your fears.

Your lover had the answer. You needed to trust that.

He prepped food for the impending dinner. He chopped veggies and set aside chicken to thaw in the sink. Geto kept glancing at the clock, knowing time was of the essence.

His phone buzzed. Geto fished it out from his pocket, and he was met by your teary, trembling voice. Your breathing ran cold along his back, and blood rushed to his erection. He softly grounded himself into the counter. "Duckling," He cooed. "I don't understand gibberish. Be clear. Take deep breaths." Geto demonstrated, and you followed.

"Su-uh," You whimpered.

He balanced his phone on his shoulder blade. He brought his trousers lower on his hips with one hand. Geto muffled his hum into the palm of his other hand. A few moments passed. His ear sought each sharp intake and languid exhale from your lips. "Sugu, please…" You whined, "Gu- get me. Please. I-I uh, I need you. Like I really need you." Geto bit down on his flesh. He salivated over your lovely words.

He swiped his thumb over the tip of his dick. "What's wrong? You're at work, aren't y'a?" Geto stroked his shaft. Massaging down to the base of his girth. He pinched around the flesh, and he imagined his precious girl begging him to help her forget.

"Ye, I got fired." You sobbed, "My boss… she said some hurtful things. Sugu~ please pick me up." He pumped his cock. His pre-cum bubbled to the surface, lubricating his hand further as he chased his pleasure.

"Why should I?" Geto teased, and the silence of yours permeated. A new wail pushed through the quietness. What's this? You questioned his love for you. What a stupid little brat. He spoiled you dearly. It was you who fought him. However, a month of minimal attention and an orchestrated bad day, had you pleading for his care. Your insecurities laid themselves down on a silver platter for his taste. Maybe he was too rude. You'd questioned his love for you. What a stupid little brat. "Duckling, I'll get y'a. Just joking. Say it. You need me."

You sniffled, "I need you."

.............................. Thank you for reading! And, thank you @appleblueberry-pie for the awesome request. I had so much fun with it!! Please read my other Geto fic, Yandere Landlord x F!Reader! Request rules are here! Feel free to leave comments down below.

>>>

NEXT JJK POST: Yandere! Husband! Nanami Kento x Curse! F!Reader

Since this was my first time doing a request, I put my all in it to make it. Low-key wanted to make this into a two-parter... so possible part 2. This just had my brain going. Also I've been playing an otome game so I made the first lines you said similar to what I see in those dating sims. LOL Anyone knows about Collar x Malice - love Shiraishi!!!

[kingofbodyrolls]

Friendcation (m) | myg | honeymoon special

You and Yoongi travel to Scandinavia for your honeymoon, well more like babymoon. You camp, fish, hike and enjoy nature as you always do, and you even go surfing! 

→ Pairing: mechanic!Yoongi x reader (female) → AUs: roadtrip!au, non idol!au, established relationship, mechanic!Yoongi. → Genres: slice of life, humor/crack, smut and fluff → Rating: mature/explicit/R18 (this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact.) → Word count: 8.8k → Warnings (explicit): semi-public sex (in a caravan on a campsite), exhibitionism, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, multiple sex scenes, nudity, oral (female and male receiving), breast play (sucking, slight biting), hickeys, squirting, deepthroating, creampie, impregnation kink, dirty talk, pleasing kink → Author’s note(1): another extra for friendcation is here! 🥳 I hope you enjoy this one too! 💜  → Read on AO3? [link] ✨

← previous | s.masterlist | m.masterlist | next (soon) →

When Yoongi revealed that he had already booked your honeymoon, you envisioned a sun-soaked paradise where you could bask in the golden warmth, bathe in crystal-clear waters, and revel in the essence of summer. But instead of tropical shores, you found yourself in the rugged mountains of Norway, on the cusp of autumn, where nature whispered secrets in the crisp, cool air. Yoongi had chosen this destination, a place forever etched in his heart from a trip with friends many years ago. He longed to share its raw, breathtaking beauty with you, and as you stood there, surrounded by towering peaks and pristine wilderness, you had to admit—the splendor was undeniable. Majestic mountains embraced the horizon, and the forest teemed with life—graceful deer gliding silently among the trees, playful squirrels darting about in a dance of their own.

For nearly a week, you nestled in a quaint cottage deep within the mountains, cocooned in the serene tranquility of nature. Each day, the world seemed to slow down, allowing you to savor every moment in this hidden paradise. But now, a new adventure beckons as your journey takes you onward to Denmark, with the enchanting landscapes of Sweden to explore first. The anticipation of Swedish forests, mirrored lakes, and ancient woodlands fills you with a quiet excitement, promising more adventures and moments of serene beauty.

The weather is a delicate dance between warm sunlight and the early September chill, hinting at the approach of autumn. Your journey from Norway to Sweden unfolds by bus, and upon arrival, a picturesque walk from the bus stop to your next secluded cottage awaits. The lightness of your luggage, carefully packed with warm clothes, turns the trek into an enjoyable prelude to the days ahead. You silently thank Yoongi for the foresight to pack hiking boots, as the rugged terrain tests your endurance. But the challenge is worth it, as each evening is rewarded with the simple pleasure of curling up in Yoongi’s arms, his hands soothing your tired feet as the day’s adventures fade into the warmth of the firelight.

In the Swedish cabin, time flows effortlessly, unburdened by the outside world. Yoongi, ever the thoughtful partner, prepares mouthwatering meals with ingredients fresh from the surrounding land, and with patient hands, he teaches you the art of fishing—a skill that had always eluded you on previous vacations. His steady guidance, coupled with whispered advice to remain silent, keeps the fish from fleeing, and you manage to catch a few, only to release them back into their watery home with a sense of reverence. Days are spent hiking the rolling hills and dense forests, each return to the cabin marked by the comforting embrace of each other’s arms, the crackle of the fire, and the soft murmur of the wilderness outside. Time slips away like water through your fingers, and before you know it, you’re packing for the next chapter of your journey.

The bus carries you southward, where a train awaits to whisk you to Denmark. There, just outside Copenhagen, you rent a car and a charming caravan trailer, your home on wheels for the next leg of your adventure. Denmark’s landscape, while familiar to Sweden’s, carries its own unique charm—its language more rough, its fields more open, a reminder that every place, like every person, has its own distinct personality.

Both you and Yoongi present your driver’s licenses, receive the keys, and locate your vehicles with the excitement of a new journey just beginning. Yoongi takes the wheel, his hands confidently guiding you northward to a place called Thy, a region he had spoken of with a quiet reverence. The local radio station fills the car with the lively tunes of Danish pop music, and as the road unfolds before you, a bridge rises to meet the horizon. You recline into your seat, lulled by the soothing rhythm of the road beneath you, when Yoongi mentions needing a break. He spots a rest stop, effortlessly maneuvering into a spacious parking area, and for a moment, the world outside pauses, allowing you both to take a breath and savor the journey that lies ahead.

Yoongi quickly exits, making a beeline for the restrooms, while you step out, stretching your limbs with a quiet sigh. The late hour casts a golden glow, the sun hanging low on the horizon, bathing the world in a warm, amber light that feels like a fleeting embrace. Around you, the scene is tranquil yet alive—lush green trees stand as silent sentinels, large trucks and trailers rest like sleeping giants, and an array of cars glimmer under the fading daylight. Your gaze drifts to a small store nearby, and you consider the idea of grabbing a meal, but something else catches your attention. A group of young men huddles around a car with its hood propped open, their faces etched with worry, a silent image of distress. Though the intricacies of engines elude you, Yoongi’s knack for mechanics brings a knowing smile to your lips. Almost as if sensing the moment, he appears beside you, his hand finding yours with effortless grace.

You gesture toward the troubled vehicle, your voice soft yet tinged with curiosity. “Do you think we should ask if they need help?”

Yoongi clears his throat, a quiet confidence in his nod, always eager to lend a hand when cars are involved. Together, you approach the trio and their ailing car, a shared purpose drawing you forward.

“Do you need help?” Yoongi asks in English, his voice carrying a note of calm assurance. Two of the young men exchange giggles, their reason a mystery, but the one peering under the hood turns to Yoongi with relief plain in his eyes. “Yeah. I don’t know what’s wrong with it.”

“I’m a mechanic. I don’t mind taking a look,” Yoongi replies, rolling up his sleeves to reveal his veined forearms, a sight that sends a flutter through your chest. “Babe, can you grab me a flashlight?” he asks, his voice gentle, and you’re quick to comply, retrieving it from the rental car. As the sun sinks lower, each sliver of light becomes precious, a fleeting gift for Yoongi’s hands to work by.

With the flashlight in hand, you stand close, watching Yoongi immerse himself in the task, his focus as sharp and radiant as the golden hour surrounding you both. His expertise becomes a quiet melody in the twilight, a dance of hands and metal that feels almost sacred in its simplicity.

“I’m Jonas, by the way. Thanks for looking at the car,” the young man says, stepping away to rejoin his laughing friends, a moment of lightness amidst their concern. You watch him playfully slap one of them on the arm, the sound of laughter briefly filling the air before your attention returns to Yoongi. You adjust the flashlight, its beam following the precise movements of his hands as he examines the engine. Yoongi lets out those soft, endearing noises he makes when deeply engrossed in a task, a habit he likely doesn’t even realize he has, but one that always stirs something deep within you. This moment is no different. Watching him work with such intensity sends warmth through you, a reminder of why you cherish these shared moments, even in the most unexpected places.

Grease begins to smudge his hands as he delves deeper under the hood, reattaching a loose valve and checking fluid levels with the practiced ease of someone who has spent years mastering his craft. Over time, you’ve absorbed a few of his car maintenance tips, knowledge passed on in quiet moments like these. Yoongi steps back from the car, a signal for you to turn off the flashlight, and you comply as Jonas, his brows knit with lingering concern, approaches to hear Yoongi’s verdict.

“I reattached a loose valve,” Yoongi explains, his tone measured and thoughtful, “and you’re low on radiator fluid. Be cautious when you drive; the car could overheat. You should refill it as soon as possible. Do you live nearby? It’s risky to drive far in this condition.”

The young man nods, gratitude and relief mingling in his expression. And as you stand there, bathed in the fading light, you can’t help but feel a quiet satisfaction in the simple act of helping, of being there in that moment with Yoongi, where the beauty of the setting sun is matched only by the warmth of his presence beside you.

Jonas nods, a wave of relief washing over his face. “We live close—we’re almost home. I’ll drive carefully and contact my mechanic tomorrow,” he says, offering a grateful smile. Yet, as his friends snicker behind him, their eyes linger on you with a gaze that feels like a brush of unwelcome heat, as if you’re some forbidden temptation. “Thank you so much for your help,” Jonas adds, shaking Yoongi’s hand with a vigor that speaks to his gratitude, pulling him into a spontaneous hug.

Yoongi returns the gesture with warmth, clearly pleased to have made a difference. As he walks back to you, you notice him wiping his greasy hands together in a futile attempt to clean them, a small smile playing on your lips at the sight.

You greet him with a smoldering gaze, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing a kiss to his lips, a kiss that holds both affection and a touch of mischief. Are you putting on a show for the boys who ogled you earlier? Absolutely. As you pull away, you lean into his ear, your voice a whisper in English, “You always look so damn hot when you’re working. I can’t wait for you to fuck me later.” Your words are barely audible, yet you catch the sound of one of the guys choking in surprise, a wicked smile curling your lips as you take Yoongi’s hand. With a playful wave to the three gaping men, you turn and saunter back to your rental car, feeling Yoongi’s hand squeeze your ass with a low chuckle.

“You’re such a good and dirty girl,” he murmurs, his words a spark that sends warmth pooling in your core. His praise, his touch, his very presence—everything about him ignites the fire within you.

Slipping back into the car, Yoongi starts the engine, the soft rumble beneath you a prelude to the journey ahead. The night deepens as you drive, the world outside dissolving into shadows and starlight, the road a ribbon of dark velvet stretching toward the unknown. Hours later, you arrive at a quiet camping ground nestled in the northern wilderness. Yoongi picks a spot at random, the exhaustion of the day evident in the slump of your bodies. He parks and turns off the car, the silence of the night settling around you like a blanket.

Yoongi sets to work preparing the caravan, a compact haven of white and beige. Inside, it holds a tiny kitchen with a sink, fridge, and portable stove, a dining area that converts into a bed, bunks that will remain untouched, and a small bathroom. As he transforms the dining space into a bed, you slip out of your clothes and into one of his shirts, the familiar scent of him comforting against your skin. Yoongi follows suit, and after brushing your teeth together, you both crawl into bed, the weight of the day melting away in the warmth of each other’s presence. 

He spoons you, his body pressing close, and you feel the unmistakable hardness against your ass, a thrill of desire sparking within you. Unable to resist, you grind back into him, eliciting quick, needy sounds that only fuel your own arousal. You turn to capture his lips in a kiss, your voice breathless as you whisper how much you need him.

Without a word, he turns you over, his hands deftly pulling down your panties and sliding his own underwear aside. The moment he enters you, a sigh escapes your lips, the smooth glide of him filling you completely, a perfect fit that sends waves of pleasure rippling through you. He moves with a rhythm that drives you wild, each thrust deeper, more urgent, as his hand finds your clit, pushing you ever closer to the edge. The pleasure builds, coiling tight within you until it snaps, your climax washing over you in a wave of pure ecstasy. He follows soon after, his warm release filling you as he grunts against your neck, pressing lazy kisses to your shoulder.

In the afterglow, he gently pulls your panties back up, his touch tender as you both settle into the bed, the night wrapping around you like a cocoon. Exhaustion pulls you under, and with the comforting weight of Yoongi beside you, you drift into a deep, contented sleep, the echoes of your shared passion lingering in the quiet night.

Morning breaks with the gentle chorus of birdsong and sunlight spilling into the caravan like liquid gold. You groan softly, stretching your limbs as Yoongi stirs beside you, his warmth anchoring you to the comfort of the moment. The new day whispers promises of fresh adventures, but for now, you linger in the serenity, savoring the feel of his body close to yours.

“Morning, babe,” he murmurs, his voice thick with the remnants of sleep, his hair tousled in a way that only adds to his effortless charm.

“Morning, Yoon,” you reply, your voice soft as you lean in to press a kiss to his lips, a gentle exchange of warmth before you rise to greet the day. The morning routine is simple and sweet—brushing teeth and hair, sharing a light breakfast—each small act grounding you in the shared rhythm of your lives.

Stepping outside, the landscape unfolds before you, vast and open, dotted with tufts of grass and stretches of sand. The air is brisk, carrying the salty tang of the sea and the constant, soothing lull of waves crashing against the distant shore. You inhale deeply, the cold, invigorating air filling your lungs as you take Yoongi’s hand, the two of you setting off to explore the campground, the natural beauty around you awakening with the first light of day. The world is still in its early stirrings, granting you a peaceful solitude, a shared quiet that feels almost sacred.

As you stroll, the calm is broken by the sight of an elderly couple walking past—naked. You exchange a startled glance with Yoongi, his expression mirroring your own surprise. The closer you draw to the beach, the more you realize that everyone around you is unabashedly bare, the air thick with a sense of freedom that feels, to you, both strange and out of place. Overdressed and bemused, you settle down on the sandy shore, leaning into Yoongi as you take in the unexpected scene.

“What is this place?” you murmur, half-amused, half-bewildered by the sight of naked bodies in every direction. Yoongi chuckles, pulling out his phone to solve the mystery. Moments later, his laughter bubbles up, contagious and bright.

“It’s a nudist campsite and beach,” he explains, his eyes sparkling with amusement as realization dawns on you. Laughter spills from your lips, a shared moment of levity in the midst of this peculiar discovery. There’s something admirable about the courage of those around you, their ease in embracing their natural state, even if it’s not a comfort you share. With a grin, you tell Yoongi that while you can appreciate their confidence, you’d much rather prefer a different campsite—one where the only naked body you see is his, perhaps later tonight.

The day unfolds in a series of light-hearted decisions and shared smiles. Later, you venture into the chilly embrace of the sea, donning your swimwear despite the nudist surroundings. The water is cold, biting against your skin, yet it awakens something within you—an invigorating contrast to the warmth of the morning, cleansing and bracing. Afterward, you drive into a nearby town for lunch, soaking in the lively atmosphere, the air filled with the hum of conversation and the sound of laughter. Hand in hand, you wander through quaint shops, not seeking anything in particular, but relishing the simple pleasure of being together.

The hours pass in a blend of humor and quiet adventure, each moment wrapped in the comfort of Yoongi’s presence. Together, you weave through the day, creating a tapestry of memories that feel destined to become cherished stories—reminders of the joy found in the unexpected, and the beauty of sharing life’s quirks with the one you love.

You return to the campsite, hitching the caravan back to the rental car, eager to find a new haven—a place where the landscape is as private as your desires. The drive is peaceful, the miles slipping away under a sky that deepens into twilight, leading you to a secluded campground far removed from the nudist site. As night falls, you settle into the quiet embrace of nature, the only witnesses to your evening the stars that begin to shimmer above.

Under a canopy of twinkling lights, you and Yoongi sit side by side on a pair of worn stools, warm cups of tea in hand. The night is cool, the air crisp, and the silence between you is companionable, filled with the unspoken understanding that comes from years of shared moments like this. The sky stretches out endlessly above, a vast canvas of dark velvet scattered with diamonds, and you both soak in its serene beauty, letting the tranquility of the moment wrap around you like a comforting blanket.

Later, you retreat to the warmth of your caravan, its small space transformed into a world of your own. Curled up in bed, you lean in for a kiss, the softness of his lips familiar yet always thrilling. Your fingers find the waistband of his boxers, and with a deliberate slowness, you peel them away, revealing his hard cock that you always crave. Your desire for him is insatiable, a fire that never dims, only burns hotter with each passing touch.

Wearing nothing beneath your nightshirt, your slick arousal greets him as you straddle his hips, a low moan escaping your lips as you grind down, the friction intoxicating. The rough texture of his pubic hair against your sensitive skin, the solid heat of his cock against your aching pussy—every sensation drives you wild, fueling the need that pulses through you.

Dripping with want, you wrap your hands around his thick dick, guiding him to your entrance, and with a slow, deliberate motion, you sink down onto him. The stretch is exquisite, your body accommodating him inch by inch until your ass meets his pelvis, the fullness making you gasp.

“Fuck, you’re always so big,” you pant, the words tumbling out as pleasure ripples through you, your head falling back in ecstasy.

His groan is guttural, raw, as his fingers dig into your hips, holding you in place. “You’re so fucking tight,” he growls, his breath hot against your skin, his need for you as urgent as yours for him. “Taking me so good, baby,” he rasps, already breathless, his voice a low rumble that sends shivers down your spine.

You hum in response, setting a steady rhythm as you begin to move, your hands splayed against his chest for balance. Leaning forward, you press kisses to his collarbones, his neck, your breath hitching as you whisper into his ear, “Get me pregnant, Yoon.”

You feel him twitch inside you, a reaction as instant as it is powerful, the mere idea pushing him closer to the edge. His grip tightens, possessive, and he begins to thrust up into you, his movements seeking control as he chases that intoxicating thought. His hips snap against yours with a newfound urgency, his pace relentless as he drives deeper, harder.

He holds you still as he pounds into your warm, wet heat, each thrust tearing a scream from your throat. You try to muffle your cries, aware of the thin caravan walls and the nearby campers, but the pleasure is overwhelming, consuming, and it’s impossible to stay quiet under his relentless onslaught.

Together, you find a rhythm, a perfect synchrony that sends you both hurtling toward the edge. He hits your g-spot with precision, over and over, until the coil in your stomach tightens to the point of breaking. With a choked cry, you unravel around him, your orgasm crashing over you in waves as your body releases a rush of liquid heat, soaking his cock as you convulse in his arms.

Panting, you cling to him, your body shuddering as he continues to move, his pace unyielding until you collapse against his chest, utterly spent. It’s more intimate like this, your bodies pressed close, and as you whisper filthy promises in his ear, nipping at his lobe, he comes inside you with a deep groan, filling you with his warmth as he grunts against your neck, his lips brushing your skin in lazy kisses.

You both gasp for breath, slick with sweat and the mingled scent of your lovemaking. He cleans you gently with a towel, his touch tender, before pulling you back into his arms. You drift off to sleep in his embrace, safe and sated, just as you love to.

The terrain here is gentler, the low elevations a welcome reprieve from the rugged mountains of Norway and Sweden. Your days have been spent in quiet contentment, the two of you fishing in the calm waters, the simplicity of the act bringing a sense of peace. Words aren’t needed in these moments, the silence speaking volumes as you sit side by side, casting lines and sharing smiles.

One day, you take a bus into Aarhus, the city buzzing with life on a cold Friday night. The decision to take public transport is an easy one—no need to worry about driving as you plan to indulge in the vibrant nightlife. The contrast between the quiet days spent in nature and the energy of the city is exhilarating, and you look forward to a night of laughter and exploration, knowing that whatever the evening holds, it will be another memory to cherish with Yoongi by your side.

You’re adorned in a flowing dress that sways with every step, its fabric catching the cool breeze of mid-September. Warm boots hug your feet, grounding you as you navigate the lively streets. Yoongi walks beside you, his own boots echoing softly against the cobblestones. He’s dressed in jeans, a fitted shirt, and a cozy jacket that accentuates his broad shoulders. You’re wrapped in a jacket too, its warmth a welcome shield against the evening chill that settles in like a whisper from autumn itself.

The streets pulse with life, alive with throngs of people—mostly the young and inebriated, their laughter loud and words slurred, their steps unsteady as they weave through the neon-lit night. You and Yoongi sip your drinks, savoring the night with a quiet restraint, the alcohol a gentle warmth rather than a dizzying rush. Neon signs bathe the street in a kaleidoscope of colors, each one calling out the names of bars and clubs, their music spilling into the air, a chaotic symphony of bass and beats.

You step into one of the clubs, but the moment you cross the threshold, the music hits you like a wave, overwhelming and disorienting. The crowd presses in, bodies moving in a fevered dance, leaving no room to breathe. You cringe as strangers brush against you, the invasion of your space unsettling. Yoongi’s discomfort mirrors your own, his eyes scanning the room with a protective edge.

Then, a rasping voice invades your ear, the breath hot and unwelcome. “Well, aren’t you a sweet thing,” the man sneers in English, his tone dripping with an arrogance that sends a shiver of unease down your spine. A hand suddenly grabs your ass, and you know instantly—it’s not Yoongi’s.

Anger flares in you, sharp and hot. With a swift, decisive motion, you swat the offending hand away, spinning to face the drunken stranger. His eyes are wide and unfocused, lost in a haze of alcohol. He leans in, but before he can get any closer, Yoongi steps between you, his presence a solid barrier, gently pushing the man back. The stranger grunts, his voice slurred and angry in a language you don’t understand.

Yoongi turns to you, concern etched in the lines of his face, his eyes searching yours for reassurance. You nod, signaling that you’re okay, but just as you turn to leave, a rough hand wraps around your wrist, pulling you back.

Yoongi’s reaction is immediate, but you step in front of him, a surge of determination coursing through you. The stranger’s grip tightens, but you seize his jaw with your free hand, your fingers digging in with a strength born of irritation. You stare into his startled eyes, your voice low and laced with venom. “I don’t appreciate that,” you hiss, each word deliberate. “I’m happily married, and I don’t want you touching me.”

The force in your grip makes him wince, and he releases your wrist, his bravado crumbling as regret flickers across his face. “Fuck. I’m sorry,” he mumbles, the fight leaving him.

You push him back, asserting your anger one final time before turning away, not wasting another second on him. Grabbing Yoongi’s hand, you pull him toward the exit, the need to escape the stifling club overwhelming. Outside, the cold night air fills your lungs, sharp and cleansing, each breath forming small clouds in the chilly atmosphere. The tension begins to melt away, and you savor the fresh, crisp night, grateful for the comforting presence of Yoongi at your side, his warmth a constant reassurance.

“That was kinda hot,” he murmurs, his voice low as he presses his body against yours, the heat of him seeping into your skin. “The way you handled yourself in there, babe.” His lips brush the sensitive skin of your neck, sending shivers down your spine that have nothing to do with the cold.

“Thanks,” you reply, your voice still carrying the edge of disgust from the stranger’s touch. “But it was disgusting. His hands on my ass.”

Yoongi hums in sympathy, his grip on your hand tightening as if to ground you both. “I don’t like other people touching you like that,” he says, his voice filled with a protective anger. “I’m sorry that happened,” he says in a much softer voice, making sure you’re okay.

You chuckle softly, the sound carrying a hint of relief. “Yeah. I know you’re possessive, Yoon.”

“If we’d stayed there a moment longer, I would’ve decked him,” he huffs, the street lamps casting a warm, golden glow on the sidewalk as you walk.

“Oh, I know. But I don’t want you getting arrested in another country—or back home, for that matter,” you laugh lightly, the tension easing from your shoulders. “I had it under control. But thank you for having my back.” You lean in to kiss his cheek, the gesture soft and intimate, and just then, you arrive at the bus station.

The cold air bites at your skin, making you shiver as you wait. Relief washes over you as the bus finally arrives, its doors opening to reveal a sanctuary of warmth. You step inside, the chill of the night giving way to the cozy embrace of heated air. Settling into a seat, you lean against Yoongi’s shoulder, the comfort of his presence grounding you.

“Maybe we’re too old to drink and party,” you muse, your voice a soft murmur that mingles with the hum of the bus.

Yoongi’s laugh is like a melody, soothing and familiar, a sound that feels like home. “Maybe,” he agrees, a teasing glint in his eyes.

“You’re an old man now,” you quip, playfully squeezing his thigh, feeling the solid muscle beneath.

“Hey,” he retorts, mock indignation coloring his tone, “you’re not much younger than me.”

Laughter bubbles up between you, the shared humor easing the tensions of the night. It’s a moment of pure, unfiltered joy, the kind that lingers long after the sound fades.

Back at the caravan, the atmosphere shifts, the night thick with anticipation. A surge of power and desire courses through you, igniting a fire that demands to be quenched. Seizing Yoongi’s jaw with the same assertiveness you’d shown the stranger earlier, you back him against the wall. Your gaze locks onto his, a silent command that he’s all too eager to obey.

With a teasing smile, you lick his chin, tasting the salt of his skin. “I want you, Yoon,” you whisper, your voice a sultry purr that sends shivers down his spine.

His breath hitches, the sound rough and needy. His eyes, darkened with lust, never leave yours as you tighten your grip on his jaw. “I want your tongue on my clit,” you command, the words slipping from your lips like a sinful prayer.

He gulps, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows hard. 

“Now,” you add, your voice brooking no argument.

Yoongi doesn’t need to be told twice. He drops to his knees with a reverence that makes your heart race, his hands sliding up your thighs to hike up your dress. The fabric pools around your waist as he tugs down your panties, his breath warm against your bare skin. You giggle in anticipation, the sound light and breathless.

He teases you first, a slow lick that sends sparks of pleasure through your body, followed by a gentle suck that makes you gasp. But then, with a playful glint in his eyes, he spins you around, your legs hitting the bed. You fall onto it with a soft thud, a surprised laugh escaping your lips. Yoongi chuckles darkly, crawling over you like a predator about to claim his prey.

He spreads your legs, the cool air brushing against your slick heat. And then he’s on you, his mouth finding your clit with a precision that makes your toes curl. His plush tongue licks and sucks, each movement sending you higher, closer to the edge. Your hands tangle in his hair, pulling him closer as you grind against his mouth, chasing the orgasm that looms just out of reach.

“Fuck, Yoongi,” you pant, your voice a breathless plea as pleasure builds within you, sharp and relentless.

He slurps, the sound obscene and utterly delicious. When you glance down, the sight of him between your legs—his face glistening with your arousal, his eyes alight with desire—undoes you completely. You come apart with a cry, your body trembling as the orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave. Your grip tightens in his hair, holding him to you as he licks you through the aftershocks, his tongue slow and sensual.

When you finally signal it’s enough, he pulls back, his face shining with your essence, drops of it splattered across his cheeks and lips. He looks so fucking hot, and he’s yours—your husband, your love, your everything. The thought swells in your chest, your heart beating a wild rhythm of adoration.

“You’re so hot when you squirt on my face,” he says, his voice husky with satisfaction as he sticks out his tongue to lick at the drops he can reach. The sight makes your pussy flutter with renewed arousal.

“Fuck,” you moan, the need rising in you again. “I want to suck your dick so bad,” you groan, your voice laced with a desperate, aching need.

Yoongi chuckles, a low, rich sound as he stands and begins to undress completely. You watch him, your eyes drinking in every inch of his body, from the strength in his shoulders to the ridges of muscle that ripple under his skin. He’s a vision, raw and powerful, and the sight of him makes your mouth water.

With a look of pure desire, you drop to your knees before him. His hand finds your jaw, his thumb brushing across your cheek with a tenderness that contrasts with the heat in his eyes. “You look so beautiful. Always,” he murmurs, his voice filled with reverence.

His praise sends a thrill through you, your body responding to the way he worships you with his words and his touch. Humming in appreciation, you reach out to grasp his cock, your hand soft as it glides along his length. Precum beads at the tip, slicking your palm as you stroke him.

You stick your tongue out, gathering saliva before you engulf him in the warmth of your mouth. You suck him like a piece of candy, savoring the taste of him, focusing on the sensitive frenulum and the head of his cock.

His hands land on your head, his fingers threading through your hair as he grunts in need. “Fuck,” he pants, his cock twitching in your mouth as you work him over with slow, deliberate movements.

You begin to hum, the vibrations sending shivers of pleasure down his length. You love watching him unravel before you, his control slipping as you bring him closer and closer to the edge. His breaths come faster, his grip tightening in your hair as you take him deeper, your mouth a hot, wet haven that he never wants to leave.

“Babe,” he warns, his voice taut with anticipation, a delicious strain that sends shivers down your spine. He’s closer than you anticipated, but you don’t relent. You want to push him over the edge, to taste his release. He tries to pull you off, his hands trembling, but you bat them away with a determined swat, drawing him closer, deeper. Without intending to, you deepthroat him, and his resistance melts into a soft moan, his legs buckling beneath the weight of his pleasure.

You steady your breath, fighting your gag reflex as you close your eyes and do it again, taking him in as deep as you can, your throat tightening around him. Your free hand moves to his balls, feeling the tension there, the tightness that signals just how close he is. A deep, primal groan escapes you as you pull off with a wet pop, only to engulf him again, your pace quickening with purpose.

You can hear it in his voice, the way he moans your name, each syllable a testament to how close he is to unraveling. His breath comes in ragged gasps, his body trembling with the effort to hold back, but you don’t give him that luxury. You push him closer, until, with a broken cry of your name, he spills into your mouth, the warm, salty liquid hitting your tongue in waves.

You watch his face contort in pure ecstasy, every line and shadow a portrait of his pleasure. When he’s spent, you swallow with a satisfied hum, pressing a teasing kiss to the sensitive tip of his cock, making him shudder with the aftershocks of bliss.

Panting, he runs a hand through his tousled hair, still trying to catch his breath. “You know,” he says, his voice still thick with pleasure, “you’re never gonna get pregnant if I come in your mouth.”

You giggle, a light, airy sound that cuts through the lingering heat between you. “Maybe not,” you concede, “but I love this too, you know. And we should have fun while we try.” You glance down, watching as he slowly softens, your heart swelling with affection for him. Leaning up, you capture his lips in a hungry kiss, pulling him down onto the bed where you eventually drift off to sleep, wrapped in the warmth of each other.

A few days later, a strange ache tugs at your stomach, a sensation that’s unfamiliar, different from the usual pangs of your period. You brush it aside, though, too excited about the day ahead. Today, you and Yoongi are going surfing in a place known as ‘Cold Hawaii’, a name that hints at both adventure and the chill that comes with it. Neither of you knows how to surf, but that’s part of the thrill. You’re determined to make the most of it.

You head to a surf shop called ‘West Wind’, the air bristling with the energy of the ocean and the people who live for it. The shop is alive with the scent of saltwater and waxed boards, the sound of wetsuits being zipped up, and the murmur of excited voices. You rent surfboards and wetsuits, changing in nearby stalls, and then you’re off to the sea, the brisk air nipping at your cheeks, but the excitement in your veins keeps you warm.

The beach is a hive of activity, surfers riding the waves with effortless grace, their movements fluid and synchronized with the rhythm of the sea. Your instructor, a local with a laid-back demeanor, walks you through the basics: how to balance, where to place your feet. He makes it seem so simple, so intuitive, but you know it’s anything but.

When the time comes, you lie chest-down on the board, the cold water lapping at your sides as you wait for the right wave. The instructor’s voice guides you, telling you when to paddle, when to pop up. But it’s harder than it looks. Your first few attempts are clumsy, your legs wobbling as you try to stand, only to topple back into the water with a splash. You can’t help but laugh, the sound bright and carefree, mingling with the roar of the waves.

Yoongi, with his natural grace, seems to get the hang of it quicker. You watch in admiration as he balances perfectly on the board, his posture steady, his movements controlled. But just as you think he’s got it, he loses his balance and tumbles into the water, disappearing beneath the surface for a moment before popping back up, his black hair plastered to his face, a sheepish grin tugging at his lips.

You burst out laughing at the sight, the sound of your mirth carrying over the waves. Even the instructor joins in, chuckling at Yoongi’s comical fall. “That was actually good,” he says encouragingly, his tone warm and supportive. “You should both try again.”

Yoongi moves with an effortless grace, a natural on the board, and you can’t help but scuff lightly, rolling your eyes as you watch him balance perfectly, riding the waves as if he were born to them. His ease draws the instructor’s attention more towards you, his voice a steady mantra in your ear, urging you to paddle, paddle, paddle as the wave swells behind you, to pop up and find your balance before the ocean has a chance to pull you under.

You give it your all, and for one brief, glorious moment, you actually manage to stand, your feet finding purchase on the slick surface of the board. But the victory is fleeting; your balance falters so quickly it feels like whiplash, and the next thing you know, you’re crashing into the water, its cold embrace hitting your face hard. Your palms scrape the sandy bottom, and you sputter, your mouth and nose filled with the sting of salty water. The instructor isn’t fazed in the least, his calm demeanor a testament to his experience, and you tell yourself it’s okay—this is so much harder than it looks.

But you’re determined, your resolve like the tide itself, unwavering and persistent. Again and again, you try, each fall more bruising than the last, the surfboard sometimes feeling like it has a vendetta against you. Yet every time you’re knocked down, you get back up, driven by the desire to conquer at least one wave. Yoongi’s big, beaming smile tells you he’s loving every minute of this, his joy infectious even as you struggle.

“Just try again,” the instructor encourages, his tone unwavering, and you do, despite the toll it’s taking on your body. Your muscles ache, sore from the relentless attempts, and a small part of you wonders how long you’ve been at this. Time feels fluid out here, with the waves as your only measure.

Thankfully, the leash tethering you to the board spares you the task of chasing it down after each tumble, a small mercy in the midst of the challenge. You huff out a breath, catching Yoongi’s comforting gaze, his look of support giving you the strength to try once more.

Lying chest down on the board, you let the water cradle you, feeling the swell of a wave approaching. You paddle with renewed determination, and as the wave lifts you, you pop up, finding your balance. This time, you manage to stand, your feet steady beneath you, and the sensation is nothing short of euphoric. A giddy laugh bubbles up from your chest as you ride the wave, a wide smile splitting your face. “Look! I’m doing it!”

And then, inevitably, you hit the water face-first. But when you surface, it’s with a laugh of pure, unbridled joy. You’ve done it. After countless attempts, after losing track of how many times you’ve tried, you finally rode the wave, if only for a moment. And when you see the pride shining in Yoongi’s eyes, your heart swells with a happiness that makes every fall worth it.

Later, after drying off, you treat yourselves to ice cream, savoring the sweet, cold treat as you sit on the beach, wrapped in your warm jackets. The air is crisp, but the warmth between you is enough to keep the chill at bay. You walk hand in hand back to the caravan, the soft crunch of sand beneath your boots, noticing how many other caravans dot the campground. It’s a bustling scene, alive with the laughter of children running and playing, their joy infectious.

As you watch them, your heart warms, and you can’t help but wonder what it will be like when you have kids of your own. The thought lingers, sweet and tender, like the promise of more beautiful moments to come.

“My feet are so sore, Yoon,” you lament, the weight of the day heavy in each step as you both drag your tired bodies back to the warmth of the caravan.

“Mine too,” he admits with a playful lilt in his voice. “How about we give each other a massage?” The suggestion, though innocent in words, carries a hint of something more, and you feel the familiar embers of desire flicker to life within you.

“Yes, please,” you breathe, your words a soft cloud in the crisp night air. The thought of your hands on him, of his hands on you, sends a thrill through your weary body. You can’t wait to get inside, to feel his touch, to see where this simple act of care will lead.

Once inside, you kick off your shoes with a sigh of relief, the warmth of the caravan wrapping around you like a comforting embrace. You share a quick bite, the soft glow of Yoongi’s phone casting shadows across your faces as something plays in the background, though neither of you pays much attention. It’s just a quiet moment, a pause before the real focus begins.

Settling onto the bed, you both sit up, peeling off your socks with a mix of anticipation and fatigue. The first touch of his hands on your feet makes you release a needy sound, the soreness easing under his skilled fingers. Yoongi lets out a similar groan as you knead the tension from his feet, and the shared intimacy sends a wave of warmth straight to your core.

“This has been a wonderful honeymoon, Yoon,” you murmur, your breath a little unsteady as your fingers dig into the arch of his foot.

He hums in response, pleased and content, his eyes closing briefly before he looks at you, love shining in his gaze. “I’m so happy to hear that. You thought we were going someplace exotic, didn’t you?” He chuckles, pulling his foot back for a moment, ticklish under your touch, but then quickly offers it again, craving the comfort of your hands.

“Yeah, I really did,” you admit, smiling at him. “But this has been so lovely. Thank you.” There’s a softness in your voice, a gratitude that comes from the heart.

“I love you,” you say, the words slipping out easily, a simple truth between you.

“I love you too,” he replies, his voice filled with warmth as he grabs your other foot. The touch of his calloused fingers on your tender skin draws a moan from your lips, your body responding instinctively to his care.

The atmosphere shifts, the once innocent massage now tinged with an undercurrent of desire. Your bodies are tired, but the need simmering between you is undeniable. His eyes darken with hunger as he watches you, and the heat in your core intensifies. Letting go of his foot, you crawl toward him, your lips seeking his in a deep, hungry kiss. Your tongues meet in a dance of passion, and your hands move with urgency, tugging at his clothes, helping him shed his shirt, his warmth pressing against you.

You make quick work of his pants, and he follows suit with yours, leaving you both in nothing but your underwear. The kiss deepens, your lips trailing down his body, tasting the salt of his skin. His hands move over you, and you tremble as he pulls your panties off, the cool air brushing against your wetness, sending shivers down your spine. 

Yoongi discards his boxers, his arousal evident, and your body quivers with the need to feel him inside you. He pulls you close, removing your bra with practiced ease, your breasts spilling free. His gaze lingers, filled with lust and love, before he leans down, his lips closing around a nipple. The warmth of his mouth, the swirl of his tongue, sends a jolt of pleasure through you, making your back arch off the bed.

“Yoongi,” you pant, your voice thick with desire as he tends to your other breast, his hand teasing and pulling at your nipple, sending sparks of heat to your pussy.

Your chest heaves with each breath, your body alive under his touch, every nerve ending ignited. His mouth moves from one nipple to the other, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin, and you tug at his hair, urging him closer, deeper.

“Fuck, Yoongi!” you cry out, the pleasure building to a fever pitch as he alternates between your breasts, his fingers and mouth working in tandem to push you over the edge. You could come just from this, and it wouldn’t be the first time. There’s no embarrassment, just raw desire.

“I’m—,” you moan as your orgasm hits you like a freight train, arching your back into his face as you come undone. Your back arches, your body trembling as you come undone beneath him, his name a breathless whisper on your lips as the world fades away, leaving only the two of you in the aftermath of bliss.

A sudden knock on the door steals the breath from your lungs, and you freeze, eyes wide with shock. The intimacy of the moment shatters like fragile glass, and Yoongi, just as startled, pulls away. Instinctively, you reach for him, not wanting the spell to break, your heart pounding like a wild drum in your chest.

But Yoongi, ever the calm in your storm, quickly grabs a towel and wraps it around his waist. The distance between you feels like a chasm as he opens the door, while you remain on the bed, flushed and breathless, your chest heaving, still glistening with the remnants of his kiss.

“Hi,” comes the low murmur of a man’s voice, intruding into your world as Yoongi runs a hand through his tousled hair, trying to steady his breath.

“I’m sorry to disturb you,” the man continues, his tone polite yet firm, “but could you keep it down? My kids are trying to sleep, and it’s getting a bit loud.”

Each word lands like a stone, sinking into the pit of your stomach as mortification blooms within you. The realization that your passion had spilled beyond the walls of your private sanctuary makes you wish the earth would swallow you whole.

“Shit. We’re so sorry,” Yoongi replies, his voice steady and apologetic as he bows slightly, the English words rolling off his tongue with ease. “We’ll be quieter. Sorry again.” With that, he closes the door, and the world narrows back down to just the two of you. For a moment, you just stare at each other, and the air feels thick with unspoken tension and embarrassment. Your breathing is still quick and you feel like you want to disappear, but Yoongi’s eyes ground you, and his soft smile lets you know it’s okay. The silence is stretching on, until Yoongi bursts out laughing, showing his perfect gums, which in turn makes you laugh too. Suddenly, you don’t feel so embarrassed, the laughter making way for the absurdity of the situation to dissipate a bit, and you just giggle, the atmosphere contagious.

He crosses the short distance to the bed, a smirk playing on his lips as he looks down at you, eyes glinting with mischief. “I’d suggest stuffing your mouth with my cock to keep you quiet,” he says, voice a low rumble that sends a shiver down your spine. You barely catch your breath as he adds, “But if you want to get pregnant this cycle, it needs to be in your vagina.”

His words set your heart racing anew, desire pooling hot and urgent within you. You stare at him, feeling the wetness between your thighs grow, your body responding to his every word.

“You’re ovulating, right?” he asks, his voice teasing, but there’s a serious edge to his gaze.

You blink, the realization dawning like a slow sunrise. The ache in your stomach—it all makes sense. “I think I am, yeah,” you murmur, your voice trembling with anticipation. 

A devilish smile spreads across his face. “Well,” he clicks his tongue, his eyes darkening with intent, “then I’m going to fuck you, but you’ll have to be silent. There are people sleeping.”

You nod, breath hitching as the room seems to shrink around the two of you. 

With a practiced ease, Yoongi discards the towel and returns to the bed, his presence overwhelming as he hovers over you, still hard and ready. He takes himself in hand, giving a few slow pumps before his fingers find your wetness. “You’re so wet,” he murmurs, his voice thick with approval. “Bet I’ll slide right in.”

You bite your lip, suppressing a moan, knowing he’s right.

He aligns himself with your entrance, and with a smooth, unhurried thrust, he’s inside you, filling you completely. The pleasure is instant and intense, but you remember the man’s words, biting into Yoongi’s discarded shirt to stifle your cries.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” Yoongi rasps, his voice strained with the effort of keeping quiet as he begins to move, his pace steady and deep. The sound of your bodies meeting, slick and needy, fills the small caravan, mingling with the quiet grunts and whispered breaths.

With strong hands, he grips your thighs, spreading them wide and lifting them onto his shoulders. His thrusts quicken, each one bringing you closer to the edge, his breath coming in harsh pants as he fights to keep his own volume down.

“This pussy,” he whispers, his voice reverent as he pulls one leg down to reach between your bodies. His fingers find your clit, already swollen and sensitive, and he circles it with expert precision. “It’s mine, and it’s so gorgeous.”

Your vision blurs, your body trembling as a new wave of pleasure builds deep inside. You mumble incoherently into the shirt, but it doesn’t matter—Yoongi knows you’re close, can feel it in the way your walls clench around him.

He keeps his rhythm steady, his fingers teasing your clit while his cock hits that perfect spot inside you. The tension coils tighter and tighter until, with a final, whispered plea of his name, you unravel completely, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave. Your body spasms, and you push the shirt out of your mouth, gasping for air as you whisper his name, the sound broken and desperate.

“Fuck, babe,” Yoongi groans, his pace faltering as he chases his own release. The way your body grips him, the way you moan his name—it’s too much. With a low growl, he thrusts deep one last time, his cock throbbing as he spills into you, warmth flooding your walls as he pants your name.

The world narrows to the feeling of him, the heat of his body pressed against yours as he collapses on top of you, both of you breathless and sated. You don’t mind the weight of him, your arms wrapping around his back as you press a tender kiss to his temple.

“I can’t wait to have a baby with you,” he whispers against your skin, his voice soft and filled with love.

“I can’t wait either,” you reply, your voice equally tender as you kiss him again, pouring all the love and gratitude you feel into that simple, sweet gesture.

Taglist: @idkjustlovingbts@constancelayon@wobblewobble822@ktownshizzle@moonchild1 @ultimatefangirl0 @baechugff @jimintaemin @parapiop7 @fckkntired @iluvfndms @citypop-princess @tarahardcore @bergandysam @massivelyfullenthusiast @tatyhend @gimeow @jeonsbabygirlsworld

*I don't know why the fuck the taglist doesn't want to work anymore T_T I hope you all find it anyway!

Author’s note(2): I really hope you liked it! I have two more extras planned for this series and they’re coming soon! Please let me know in a comment, reblog or ask what you liked 💜 And please, remember it’s just fiction.

[sonamytrash]

Temptress

An: As usual, I don't have anything to say for myself. I started this off quite enchanted and romantic, and it turned to filth pretty quickly.

Warnings: Pure smutty filth, public sex, outdoor sex, poor tree, fingering, dirty talk, multiple orgasm, squirting, creampie, unprotected sex, name calling, dom Levi, daddy is used, female anatomy described, porn with plot, but mostly porn. MDNI.

The air was thick with the musky scent of damp earth and the crisp tang of pine needles as Levi made his way through the dense woodland, the sunlight filtering through the canopy above, casting long, dappled shadows over the forest floor.

A light breeze rustled the leaves, carrying with it the sweet scent of newly bloomed flowers. In the distance, the gentle murmur of a nearby stream provided a soothing background score to this picturesque scene. It was in this serene setting that Levi Ackerman found himself, taking a shortcut through the woods as he made his way back from a nearby town where he'd been to buy tea. Suddenly, he heard a rustling in the bushes nearby. Curious, he carefully crept closer, peering through the foliage. There, hidden among the undergrowth, he spotted you, one of the scouts' medics. You were clad in a blush pink dress, your hair loose and flowing down your back, catching the golden rays of the sun. You seemed to be engrossed in your task, humming softly to yourself crouched down, carefully plucking plants from the ground.

You smiled to yourself, your hands expertly weaving through the dense undergrowth. The woods were your sanctuary. You knew every nook and cranny, every hidden path and secret grove. It was here that you found solace from the chaos of the world beyond the trees.

Having studied medicinal plants since you were young, and now, as a member of the scouts medical team, you were able to put your knowledge to good use.

The fabric of your dress was cool against your skin, a welcome relief from the muggy air. You bent down to pluck a particularly plump-looking leaf, your movements graceful and fluid.

You paused for a moment, listening intently to the sounds of the forest. The rustling of leaves, the chirping of birds, the gentle sigh of the breeze. It was a symphony that only nature could compose, and you found yourself lost in its beauty.

Levi cleared his throat, making his presence known. Startled, you looked up at him with wide, expressive eyes. "Ah, Levi," you said, her cheeks flushing slightly, "I didn't hear you." You glanced back at your collection, clearly torn between finishing what you were doing and attending to the stoic, dark-haired figure standing before you.

"What are you doing out here?" Levi asked, his voice low and curious. He leaned against a nearby tree, crossing his arms over his chest. You stood up, brushing the dirt from your knees, straightening out your dress as you smiled sheepishly. "Just collecting some medicinal plants," you replied, gesturing to your collection.

Levi arched an eyebrow, amused by your reaction. "I couldn't help but wonder what kind of strange animal might be lurking around in the bushes." he teased, stepping closer. A smirk crept across your lips. "Oh, you know, just the type of weird animal that spends their day's off in the dirt."

There was an awkward silence as you both took in each other's presence. You felt your cheeks flush again, remembering the flirtatious banter that you often shared. Always tethering on the edge of something more. But never had you been alone like this before, away from the eyes and ears of the scouting headquarters.

Levi, on the other hand, couldn't help but notice the way the sunlight danced across your shoulders, and your breasts filled the dress you had chosen to wear highlighting the soft curves of your body, a welcome change from the usual scouts uniform. He cleared his throat, breaking the silence. "So, did you find everything you needed?"

You nod, your eyes not leaving his. "Yes, I think so. Thanks for asking." You shifted your weight from one foot to the other as you tried to climb back up the rockery, not entirely sure how you managed to get down there in the first place. "You're not out here just to chat. Are you, Levi?" You gave him a playful smile, trying to break the tension.

Amused, Levi didn’t return your smile, but his expression softened. "No, I just wanted to make sure you were okay. You know, in case there were any other weird animals around." He teases, reaching his hand out to you for assistance.

You felt a thrill run through you at his touch as he effortlessly pulled you up. "Nope, just me," you teased, your voice a little breathless. Your final step closed the small distance between the two of you, as you laid a hand on his chest for support. The contact sent a wave of heat through your body, and you could feel the strong muscles and steady beat of his heart beneath your palm, "And I'm fine." You assured him.

Levi looked down at your hand on his chest, his own hand curling gently around your waist to support you. "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. You raise your eyes to meet his, your gazes locked, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. The air between them seemed to crackle with an almost palpable energy, and time seemed to stand still.

No, you were not okay. You were never okay around this man.

Levi's grip on your waist tightened ever so slightly, drawing you closer still. Your heart racing. You could feel the warmth of his body, the strength in his arms, and it made you want to be even closer.

"I'm sure," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the rustling leaves. You could see the desire flickering in Levi's eyes. It was a look you had seen many times before, and it sent a shiver down your spine. You knew what was coming, and you wanted it. You wanted him.

He took note of your features. Delicate and beautiful, but there was something wild about you, too. Something untamed. You seemed to be waiting for him, and he could feel his heart racing with anticipation.

"You've been waiting for this, haven't you?" he asked, his voice low and steady despite the pounding of his heart.

You smiled at him. The expression on your face was both mischievous and enchanting. "Maybe I have, haven't you too?" you replied, tilting your head to the side. His hand reached out, gently brushing against your cheek, and you instinctively leaned into his touch, closing your eyes for a moment. "Tch, don't get cocky, brat." his fingers further ghost along the side of your face as he tucks a stray lock of hair behind your ear. "I may be a man, but I still have control over my urges." his gaze smoulders with a hint of barely restrained desire. "Though I admit. You make it damn difficult sometimes."

With a gentle nudge, he guided you backwards until your back was pressed against the rough bark of a tree.

He leans in, your breaths mingling as his lips brush against your own.

You gasp, your hands finding their way to his shoulders. Your lips were soft and yielding beneath his, and he could feel you respond to his touch, your body moving in time with his. He deepened the kiss, his tongue darting out to explore the sweetness of your mouth, and you moaned in response, your fingers tangling in his hair.

He reached around, his hand finding the softness of your backside, and he squeezed, pulling you closer still. You arched your back, pressing yourself against him, your hips grinding together desperately.

You broke the kiss, gasping for air, and looked up at him with eyes that were now dark with need. Your hands moved over his chest, his shoulders tracing the lines of his muscles, feeling the tautness of his skin. "I want you," Levi rasps, his voice thick with desire. His hooded eyes roam hungrily over your form. "Right here, right now." His calloused hands slide down to caress your curves, igniting sparks of pleasure. "I can't wait any longer." He kisses your neck and nips his way lower until he reaches the valley between your breasts. With a growl, he pulls the fabric loose, freeing your flesh from the confines of your dress. He cups your breasts in his hands, feeling the weight of them, the warmth that emanated from your skin. He takes one nipple between his lips, sucking gently, teasing it with his tongue while rolling the other one between his fingers. You arch your back, hips grinding against him, your fingers tangled in his hair. "Levi," you moaned, your voice dripping with desire.

He watched as you lowered your eyes, taking in the hardness of him through his pants before meeting his gaze again. "Then take me, Captain." You reply, and with a slow, deliberate motion, reaching down to free him from his trousers. You let out a moan at the sight of him, his gorgeous cock, hot and twitching in your hand.

Levi's breath hitches as you free his throbbing erection as his grip on your waist tightens. "You're a fucking temptress, you know that?." he growls, pressing you harder against the tree. He reluctantly leaves your nipple and captures your lips in another hungry kiss, his hips instinctively bucking into your touch. One hand continues to caress your plump breast while the other slides beneath your dress, teasing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.

Pulling away briefly, he murmurs against your lips, "You're going to be the death of me," His voice is thick with want. "Humanities strongest soldier, reduced to this by a fucking siren. Tsk." With that, he spins you around, pinning you firmly against the tree, hiking up the skirt of your dress, his hard length presses insistently against your backside as his nimble fingers work to divest you of your undergarments, a satisfied smirk painted accross your lips the entire time. "But what a way to go." He relishes the feeling of the heat of your skin and the dampness between your legs. You gasped, your hips moving restlessly against his hand.

He bunches your dress up around your waist, revealing the curve of your rear. "And what a tempting sight," he murmurs, his hands caressing your supple flesh, parting your folds with his fingers, teasing you and circling your sensitive bud. You cry out, hips bucking against his hand. He presses one and then two fingers inside you, feeling your tight, wet cunt. You were so ready for him, so desperate for release. He slides his fingers in and out of you, in time with his thumb, circling your clit, as you moaned and writhed beneath him, your hands gripping the bark of the tree. Levi's fingers curl inside you, stroking all of the right spots. A guttural groan escapes his lips as he feels your silken walls clenching around his digits.

Your body arched, your back bowed as his name spilt from your mouth, and then you came, your voice shattering the tranquillity of the woods. Your muscles spasmed around his fingers, and your breath came in ragged gasps as the pleasure coursed through you. Levi's eyes flash with wicked delight at your wanton display.

"You have no idea what you're in for, pet." He growls, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin of your neck as you catch your breath. "I'm going to ruin you for anyone else."

Slowly, inch by agonizing inch, he sinks his cock into your slick heat, stretching and filling you deliciously. Your body still sensitive from your first orgasm. His hands grip your hips tightly, holding you in place as he hilts himself fully. "Levi!" You cry throwing your head back.

"Fuck, yes," he groans, pausing momentarily to allow you to adjust to his impressive girth. Then, with a sharp snap of his hips, he begins to pound into you relentlessly, "That's it, let me hear those delicious sounds."

A guttural moan escapes his lips at the sensation of your velvety walls enveloping him. He fills you completely, stretching and satisfying your aching need as you moan loudly for him.

Bracing his hands firmly around your hips, he begins to thrust into you with deep, powerful strokes, his hips snapping forward with a primal urgency. "You feel so fucking good," he growls through ragged breaths mingle with your desperate moans, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh filling the air around you. "So hot and tight around my cock."

He sets a hard, relentless pace, pounding into you against the tree. His mouth latches onto the delicate skin of your shoulder, sucking and nipping, determined to mark you as his. One hand snakes up to knead your heavy breast as they bounce and slap one another from his assault. His other hand clutches your backside, pulling you flush against him with every powerful thrust.

"Levi...it feels so good," you mewl, He leans forward, his chest pressing against your back as he grunts with each powerful thrust. "That's right, keep saying my name with that pretty little mouth." he commands, his voice rough with lust.

His hand snakes from your breast to your clit, stroking it in time with his ruthless thrusts.

"You feel so fucking good, taking my cock like this," his breath hot against the back of your neck. His teeth graze the sensitive skin there, no doubt leaving his mark. Levi's pace becomes increasingly frantic as he drives into you, his hips snapping sharply. Each powerful thrust elicits a wanton moan from your lips, driving his lust even higher.

He slams into you with bruising force, his hips snapping against your rear with each powerful thrust. The pressure and friction is delicious, and he can feel your walls fluttering around his throbbing shaft.

You arched your back, crying out his name as you came, your body shuddering with release. He continues to thrust into you relentlessly, feeling your body relax and then tense again with each thrust, your wet heat enveloping him as he continues to apply pressure to your clit expertly allowing you to ride out your orgasm. And then, just as you thought it couldn't possibly get any better, you felt it building again as you allowed the overstimulation to consume you, a second wave, and with it, the rush of hot liquid that trickled down your legs leaving you breathless and astonished as you moaned breathlessly beneath him, you inner walls desperate to milk his cock. Levi felt the fluid spill over his hand and smirked, bringing his fingers to his lips to taste your essence, "Dirty fucking girl," he says with a groan of pleasure, "I don't think you even knew you could do that." He comments seductively as he his thrusts grew more frenzied, his hips slapping against your ass with an urgency that left you both gasping for breath. "Give daddy one more." As he reaches down to rub your clit again, you mewl at the contact of his wet, slippery fingers returning to circle the already sensitive nub. He feels your body quickly contract around him, your muscles gripping him in a vice-like hold again. You felt yourself losing control, tears of pleasure streaming down your cheeks, "Don't stop, daddy please" you mewled, the words effortlessly rolling from your lips. With a loud cry, your body convulsed, your muscles tensing as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you. "Fuck, that's it. Milk my cock dry." His thumb circles your swollen clit as he chases his own release. Consumed with feral satisfaction at the sight of your debauched state. "You're such a good slut for daddy." With a final few deep thrusts, Levi buries himself to the hilt, spilling his seed deep inside, moaning your name as empties himself into you.He holds you flush against him, painting your walls with his hot, thick cum.

Levi's chest heaves as he catches his breath, his grip on your hips unwavering. "Tch, look at the mess we've made," He gazes down at you with a glint in his eyes. "But I have to admit, it's a sight I quite enjoy." 

You blush furiously at the events that have just unfolded. Your sweat-slicked bodies pressed together, hearts racing, and your breaths coming in ragged gasps. Your grip on the tree had turned your knuckles white as you turned to meet his gaze. "Guess I'm not the only animal around here."

[seongwars]

taste of heaven | one shot

Pairing: hunter!San x swan maiden!Reader Summary: All you wanted was to swim in the river. A certain hunter has other plans. Word Count: 2.5K Warnings: NSFW, not proofread, poorly written smut, dubcon-ish, female masturbation, voyeurism, cunnilingus, breeding kink

a/n: lmao I'm just gonna leave this here

In a land between misty lakes and heavenly skies, there lived a herd of swan maidens. Each evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, these maidens would shed their swan forms and swim in the river. 

As dusk fell, casting a warm, golden hue across the water’s surface, the forest surrounding the river began to darken, its dense canopy of trees merging into shadows. The sky above transformed into a canvas of deepening purples and blues, signaling the approach of night. At this serene hour, you prepared for their nightly ritual, unaware that tonight’s twilight would bring an unexpected turn to your timeless tradition.

You sighed with relief, easing yourself into the cool welcoming waters, your feathered robe slipping from your shoulders and settling gently on a nearby branch. As you dipped your toes into the water, its coolness was a refreshing contrast to the day’s heat, and a sigh of contentment escaped your lips. Leaning back, you let yourself float partially in the water, your hair fanning out like the delicate feathers of your swan form.

But as the last light of day faded, a subtle shift in the atmosphere disrupted your calm. A dark and alluring presence seemed to make itself known, casting a shadow over your moment of tranquility.

"Who's there?" you called out, your voice echoing softly through the trees. Your senses heightened, attuned to every rustle of leaves and every whisper of the wind. The forest seemed to hold its breath, and the weight of unseen eyes pressed upon you. 

Trying to shake off the uneasy feeling, you turned your focus back to the river. Unaware of the growing danger, you continued to relax in the calming waters, oblivious to the dark presence inching closer.

The river embraced you with its cool, soothing touch, refreshing and invigorating your skin. The rhythmic lapping of the water created a serene cadence that lulled you into blissful calm. You sighed deeply, letting the tranquility seep into your bones as you traced your fingers along your damp skin.

Your hands, cool against your skin, wandered across your body with each breath you take. One hand traces a path across your breasts, gently teasing your nipples with a light touch, the other hand dips lower, tracing the curve of your hips, the familiar shape feeling both comforting and strangely new. 

Your fingers found the sensitive nub between your legs, and the world narrows down to the delicate pressure of your own touch. Moving in slow, deliberate circles, each caress a wave of pleasure that crashes over you, building, intensifying, drawing you closer to the edge as you plunge your delicate fingers in and out of your wet heat. 

The air itself seems to vibrate with anticipation, and the heat blooming within you is a stark contrast to the frigid waters. As your climax approaches, your movements become more urgent and desperate, surrendering to the waves of sensation ripping through your body. 

Unbeknownst to you, a hunter had been tracking through the forest, his senses keenly attuned to the sounds of the wilderness. Drawn by the subtle shimmer of the fabric, he emerged from the underbrush and caught sight of your robe, partially concealed among the branches at the river’s edge.

San approached cautiously, his curiosity piqued by the strange, ethereal glow emanating from the robe. The delicate fabric seemed to pulse with a life of its own, its subtle glow illuminating the surrounding shadows. As he drew nearer, the intricate craftsmanship of the robe became more apparent: the feathers were exquisitely detailed, each one meticulously arranged to catch and reflect the light.

He reached out, rough fingers brushing against the soft, downy material as he carded the fabric, the weight of its enchantment lingering in his hands. A sudden splash from the river drew his attention, breaking the spell of the fabric. San’s gaze snapped towards the sound, and his eyes widened in awe.

There you were—a swan maiden, a being of myth and legend, floating along the currents, lost in your own personal pleasure. San watched, his breath catching in his throat, as the maiden’s movements grew more deliberate, more urgent. The water around her seemed to ripple with her increasing arousal. He couldn't tear his eyes away, his own body responding to the secret show.

San’s gaze lingered on you as if the robe’s enchantment had awakened a deeper hunger within him. He could see you were no mere creature; you were a part of the very magic he had sought, an embodiment of the allure and mystery he craved.

As you emerged from the river, the cool night air sent a shiver down your spine. You reached for your robe, but your fingers grasped only empty air. Panic surged through you as you looked around, desperately trying to locate the celestial garment. 

Your heart raced as you scanned the riverbank, but the robe was nowhere in sight. It should have been draped over the branches where you had carefully left it. 

“Where is it?” you whispered, a note of panic creeping into your voice.

You were acutely aware of the chill that clung to your damp skin and the eerie quiet of the forest around you. Your breath came in shallow gasps as you turned in circles, the rustling of leaves and distant calls of nocturnal creatures only heightening your sense of isolation. The reality of being without your robe struck you with a cold clarity: without it, you were vulnerable, cut off from the magical realm that allowed you to return to your swan form.

A soft rustling sound caught your attention. 

A hunter. 

He stood with a deliberate, almost casual stance, holding something in his hands—a piece of fabric fluttering gently in the night breeze. 

“My robe!” you exclaimed, your voice quivered with urgency. You rushed towards him, the cool night air clinging to your damp skin as you stretched out your hands. “Please, my robe, I need it back!”

San’s lips curled into a smirk, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of amusement and something darker. He stepped back, holding the robe just out of your reach. “Perhaps I will,” he said, his voice smooth and taunting, “but not without a trade.”

Panic surged through you, and you tried to close the distance between you. “What do you want?” you asked, desperation evident in every word.

"You," he said, holding it up, his voice dropping to a husky whisper as he took in your naked form. "Let me have a taste of you."

"W-What?" you stammered, trying to cover yourself with your hands, though the water provided little concealment. San stepped closer, "You were enjoying yourself, weren't you?"

Your cheeks flushed a deep crimson as the full realization that you had been caught in the act. You were exposed, vulnerable, and painfully aware of how you must appear in front of this human. You took a shaky breath, trying to collect your thoughts. 

“Please,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper, laden with resolve. “I need my robe to return home.”

"If you want your robe back, you'll have to give me what I want."

You hesitated, your fists clenched at your side. "And if I refuse?"

San shrugged nonchalantly, though his eyes never left yours. "Then I keep the robe, and you remain trapped here as a human."

Your breathing quickened, the struggle clear on your face. You glanced around, as if seeking an escape, but there was none. The forest encircled you, and San stood between you and your freedom.

“You wouldn’t,” you spat, trying to muster every ounce of defiance you had left. 

“Try me,” he challenged, his smirk widening into something predatory. The air between you thickened with tension, each heartbeat echoing loudly in your ears as the weight of your decision pressed down on you. Despite the fear tightening in your chest, a spark of defiance flared within you. 

You glanced over your shoulder toward the river–the prospect of plunging back in was tantalizing. With a desperate resolve, you took a few tentative steps toward the riverbank, preparing to dive in. But just as you were about to make your move, the hunter’s shadow fell over you, yanking you roughly down onto the riverbank. You landed hard, the rough ground scraping against your back as he caged you underneath him.

“Not so fast,” San growled. 

In one fell swoop he captured your lips in a searing kiss. Your eyes widened in shock, and for a moment, you were frozen, unsure of how to react. His hands trailed down your chest, cupping your breasts, and placing your sensitive nipple in his mouth. A moan escaped you, eliciting a dark chuckle, a velvety sound that vibrated through your very core. 

“Let me go,” you insisted. While your rationale was gripped by sheer terror at the thought of what was to come, a deeper, more twisted part of you found a perverse thrill in it.

You let out a shaky breath, as his hands ran along the smooth skin of your thighs, tracing the soft curves of your body as he bent your knees to your chest, giving himself a better view of your swollen pussy. Your breathing grew ragged as his fingers spread the lips of your cunt.

"You want me to let you go but your pussy says otherwise,” He looked at you with a wicked grin before diving headfirst into your cunt. You threw your head back as you felt his tongue against your clit, lapping at your essence like a man starved. 

You couldn't deny that it felt good, but the idea of this human being the one to give you pleasure, that you'd been so easily captured...it infuriated you. His tongue traced the outline of your sex, and your fingers gripped his hair tightly, grinding into his face, begging him to delve deeper into your hole.

His smirk deepened complied, inserting a finger into your tight opening, the slight burning stretch made you gasp and buck against him. "Gods," you whined, needing more friction from the way his tongue slurps up your folds and the way his head jerks along with your movements. You gasped and moaned, your body shuddering as he brought you to your climax. 

But San didn't relent—his tongue continued its gentle movement, prolonging the pleasure, keeping you tethered to the edge of desire.

He pulled away from you, his face glistening with your juices. He licked his lips, his eyes dark and full of desire. "So that’s what heaven tastes like," he murmured, his voice husky with need.

"M-More," you begged, your voice barely a whisper. “I need you.”

His dark eyes locked on your as he grasped your face possessively with his wet fingers. "Look at you," he purred mockingly, squeezing your cheeks until you had no choice but to meet his intense gaze. Hunger and dominance swirled in the depths of his dark eyes as he pressed your knees to your chest, your eyes crossed and delirious with euphoric bliss.

"Already fucked out and I haven’t even started," he whispered, his voice rough and desperate. 

With a grin, he took himself in his hand and rubbed his tip up and down your slit. His cock twitched at the sight of you–legs up in the air and body folded over against him just waiting to be bred, pink lips puffy from rough kisses, and a look of indignation, embarrassed that you, a celestial being, had been ensnared by a mere mortal. He slapped his cock against your sensitive folds a couple of times for good measure before plunging the tip in. 

"Fuuuck, you feel amazing." San buried himself in you, holding still, trembling. "So. Fucking. Tight."

With a growl, he quickened his pace. You let out a moan, wrapping your legs around him, running your nails into his back, scalp, shoulders–anywhere you could get your hands on as he slammed into you. 

You looked down, enraptured by the sight of the white ring of arousal forming at the base of his cock as your cunt squelched with every thrust. You sighed, meeting his eyes and watching him watch your pussy take his dick. He looked hungry, almost desperate, like he'd die if he couldn't keep fucking you. 

"You take me so well," He grunted, his thrusts becoming harder. "Fucking made for me."

Even in the midst of anger and embarrassment, your mercy shone through, a testament to the grace that defined your being. Sitting up on your forearms, you let him have full view of your cunt, let him see the way your pussy took him over and over and over. He let out a guttural moan, his fingers digging into your ass.

"This pussy is mine," he whispered darkly against your lips. His breath was hot, his gaze intense, sending a jolt of fear mixed with exhilaration through you. "Mine."

You nodded with a desperate urgency, tears welling in your eyes. "Yours," you whispered.

San hummed low in his throat and pushed his cock even deeper into you, the hand in your hair tightened painfully as he used his hold to tilt your head back. He ran his nose along your jawline, scenting you with his mortality. He wanted to ruin you, tarnish your celestial standing, to cast you out from the divine realms and strip you of your grace. 

"Mine," he repeated, his hand wrapping around your throat with a slight squeeze, a possessive gesture that sent a wave of heat through you. He smiled, his hips snapping roughly into yours with a primal need, a deep, satisfied groan erupting from his chest. 

"Cum in me," you pleaded, your voice a breathless whisper, unable to form any coherent thoughts as you’re fucked dumb. You were lost in the intoxicating rhythm of his movements, his presence was all-consuming, a potent blend of authority and allure that made it difficult to focus on anything but him. 

Your thoughts drifted to forbidden desires, thoughts that were both exhilarating and terrifying. What would it be like, you wondered, to bear a child for a human, to defy the very laws of heaven that had governed your existence for so long? The idea was enticing a forbidden fruit that had always been just out of reach.

A deep shudder rolled through you, the heat pooling between your legs, the friction of his movements bringing you to the edge. His hand dropped between your bodies, his thumb finding your clit, and you came undone. The release crashed through you, a scream ripping from your throat, leaving you gasping for air. 

San’s hips stuttered, his breath coming out in ragged gasps as your pussy clenched around him, milking him for all that he was. But as he stuffs you full of cum, you remain in a soft, dreamlike haze induced by his spell. 

“There’s no chance I’m letting you escape now,” he sneered, his eyes flashing with wicked delight. As you laid there, the realization settled deep within you: escape was no longer an option. The feathered robe, once a symbol of your freedom, now hung as a barrier between you and any hope of retreat.

[ramu-ego]

I hope the requests are open, if not ignore..

But hear me out!!

The boys as tiddie suckers ??? I just know some of them would non stop.😭

and have a wonderful day, sweetie. I love your work so much ! <3

(nsfw) TIDDY BOYS :: xfemdom!Reader

can confirm yes yes yes we have some tiddy obsessed men here ♡ -askbox open cw: fem!Reader, dom!Reader, aged up, nursging/nipple play/etc, sexual content, subbier content in Ego's, unedited word count: sloppy headcanons character(s): Isagi Yoichi, Itoshi Rin, Ego Jinpachi, Kenyu Yukimiya, Nagi Seishiro

DNI :: minors, blank blogs + m!Reader blogs

one word; OBSESSED

your tits are the reason for breathing as far as he's concerned and Isagi has no problem reminding you of that daily if not hourly - schedules permitting

size doesn't matter he's a nipple man anyways

hours can be lost to them which he happily relinquishes his free time to worship your chest

squeezing, groping and licking every inch of your tiddy while he lays on his tummy kicking his feet like a happy little school girl

adores your nipples

cannot stress this enough your nipples are where he'll wrap his lips around them for hours on end

nursing, licking and the occasional bite (nothing a thump to the head won't fix)

pretty sure his mother weened him too early with how hard he'll go with his nursing kink

swears nothing in the world turns him on like your tits and it's true

9times out of 10 he's rutting into the bed mindlessly while he's nursing only to end up in a gooey puddle of his own cum from simply nursing on your tits while you play with his hair

sucking on your tits while he's inside you expect Isagi to loose his mind like a good boy

shy tit sucker

not because he sees anything wrong with it, just, shy about how much he wants to do it

your tits are constantly on his mind which frankly is unacceptable but the only remedy for his plagued thoughts?

that's right, planting himself face first in your boobs!

100% stress reliever for him but he's too dense to connect the dots and often times thinks his obsession with your tits is a vice

a vice that he inevitably gives into almost daily but it's cute to watch his internal struggle the second you walk around barless/shirtless

stares all the time it's so obvious

will blatantly tell you he's not looking at them only to come over five minutes later and put his face in them

the fattiest part of your tit is his favorite

loves the mouth feel of it and sometimes you have to remind him to explore other parts of your tit instead of just sucking on the squishiest part like a dumb calf

pls why is he this smart yet so obtuse sometimes

once he finds your nipples it's game over his lips aren't going anywhere but your clothes sure are

they're there for him to look at and touch all he wants so why would he ever invest in something as dumb as stress balls

nothing compares to his fingers diligently dimpling the fat of your breast while he massages them mindlessly going about his work

extremely handsy and perhaps a little possessive

your tits are his favorite thing and Ego sees no qualms in making the most of his love for them of course

and with fingers like that who would complain

plucking at your nipples, rolling them between his fingers until your squirming and then just pulling you back into his lap to reaffirm you can get up when he's done

Ego wanted a bigger office chair so he could accommodate you sitting in his lap and damn well he's going to get that bigger office chair for exactly that

if it's been an extra stressful day full of idiots expect his mouth to be preoccupied by what he explains is the best stress relief right under fucking

sucking on your tits of course!

mouthful, face buried in your tit for as long as he wants with a tongue as dexterous and attentive as his fingers; Ego's going to be down here a while so might as well get comfortable

bonus his hair is super soft and pettable so don't forget to pet him like a good boy

another shy tiddy sucker

but he's not as forward with his vice as say some other strikers

he's thinking about your tits 24/7

but who can blame him when they just feel so good in his hands and Kenyu couldn't live another day without the thought of getting his mouth on you

it's cute though, when he tries to control his little impulses

tries so hard but mommy knows best for a reason

the second you brush up against him Kenyu is struggling to keep his composure without making a fool of himself

but his foolish side is so cute!

take it upon yourself to force his face into your tits and watch him give into his greedy little needs like a true egoist

loves loves loves to feel them against his face

laying on your chest, nuzzling and the occasional motorboat when he gets a little excited, he just can't help it they're so warm and soft!

different levels of neediness with this one

sometimes rubbing his cheek against you while you pet his hair and hold him is more than enough

other times Kenyu won't be interrupted by even the end of the world if his lips finally find their home around your nipple

he's not very shy after you extend the invitation to let him play with your tits and good luck getting him off before he's had his fill

default nursing kink

default mommy kink

these are his factory standard settings and there is no getting rid of them

Nagi sees no issue with using your tits as his gaming pillow or even a reason why it might be inconvenient to have him sucking on them while also trying to play videogames

spoiler he drools at this angle....a lot

an obscene amount of nonsexual touching is just a given with him

hand down the shirt groping to find your tit until he's got his hands on it

then it's like an almost full body sigh like he's got his security blanket

yes you should just buy that extra large shirt bc all 6'2" of him is going to attempt to crawl into it to be closer

has a favorite boob, it's your left one, because it's closest to your heart

and yes he thinks this is just top tier romantic to love the boob above your heart

expect him to fall asleep with boob in his mouth, to sleep with boob in his hand and as just a general rule have some form of contact with your boobs whenever possible

and yes...Reo knows how obsessed with your boobs Nagi is

no thanks to Nagi

[xerotiny99]

The Lewd Rituals of a Typical Day // Our Precious #6

The Lewd Rituals of a Typical Day. (Our precious #6)

M.list | Previous | Next

Pairing: main - Park Seonghwa x Reader. Side - Reader x Jeong Yunho, Reader x Kang Yeosang

Warning (for all parts): smut, hardcore smut, soft dom!seonghwa, dom!yunho, dom master!yeosang, sub!reader/slave!reader, breast stimulation, teasing, biting and marking, DD/LG, seonghwa has a feeding kink (does not overlap with fat fetish), praise kink, food play, unprotected sex, fingering, cock warming, thigh riding, nipple play, bits of master-slave dynamic, rough sex, manhandling, cum play/cum shot, dirty talk/degradation (just know yunho has a filthy mouth), size training (vaginal), etc.

Note: do not proceed if you're uncomfortable or triggered by any aforementioned tags. Not proofread.

Gist: it's the weekend and you finally get the time to spend it with your so called "boyfriends".

Total Word Count: n/a

Taglist: @t3kandson @therealcuppicake @sebastianswhore13 @solisyeah

[a/n:] thank you so much for 190+ followers. really appreciate it.

Part Two [6.2]: Down on My Knees - Kang Yeosang x Reader

Warning: master/slave dynamic, slave!reader, master!yeosang, wax play, use of Ben wa balls/kegel balls, use of ropes, rope bondage (hojojutsu tie), deep-throat/throat fucking/blowjob, cunnilingus, etc.

Song rec: Drip by Black Atlass

Gist: Yeosang gives you a glimpse of his eccentric kink. Let’s say, he’s one intimidating man behind all the innocent facade he puts on.

Word Count: 11,122

           How did you end up in this position? Kneeling in front of him, arms bound with a thick rope and held behind your back, and the seemingly innocent ruse he paints on; in his make-believe world, you're supposed to be looked down upon, and he's supposed to have the higher ground to assert his dominance. He wasn't fooling anyone with his charming demeanor, and you indeed hadn't been fooled by his undisturbed personification. Who knew, Yeosang would be one of the wild ones, the kind who are quiet and gentle, who speak less and listen to others talk, the ones who make their opponent believe they know everything about them when in reality they know nothing about them.

The two of you were trapped in a trance of silence, both taking up the empty space adjacent to the bed. A little further into his room, you and Yeosang were both busy with your own things; he eyed you like a predator would eye his prey, and somehow, it seemed to arouse your worst tendencies. A strain in your forearm aches against your posture, making you curl your back into your stomach, and the hemp rope bites into your skin, creating irritated scratches; Yeosang's tongue clicks against the roof of his mouth the moment he hears you whimper. You hold onto a breath of yours, until it's forcing its way out to blend in with the dense air of this room. The dread follows you, lurking in your mind; you could sketch out a rough outline of Yeosang's mind, of his needs. He needs control. He likes it a little too much. Which would explain why you were kneeling in front of him, with your arms shackled in some rope to restrict any movement of your body.

"Did I tell you to stop?" he growls, sighing a minute later, "from the top, again."

You groan, voicing your frustration, "I promise, I'll be good next time. Just let me continue. We've been over this for the longest time, I'm tired."

"Rules are rules, kitten." He rasps, lowering his voice down a baritone, "now, from the start. As I said before."

Exasperated, you straighten up and stare up at him. There he sat on a metal chair, hungry eyes trained on every movement of your body. He sits poised and stoic, putting most of his weight to the side as his elbow which rests on knee. His legs are crossed over one another, and he subtly keeps brushing his fingers under his chin as if he were to be in some deep ponder about life. For a man to be this ethereal, was a crime. And you wouldn't base your judgment on the fact that he was a man, but rather on how meagre his efforts were to delineate his grace. How can a man wearing a simple tank top and jogger shorts, appear this elegant?

Yeosang's lips curve into a silken smirk, almost like a trace of smugness caressing his face before stranding his mien with an unbearable hint of thirst. His soft brown eyes yearn for a taste, for a quick nibble of your bare chest which was on a hankering display. When his silence murmurs louder in your ear, you take a deep breath and scatter your attention across the floor; there laid sheets of black print, words etched in a continuum. Back to the first page, to the very beginning. You had read through the first page ten minutes before. There goes your ten minutes of hard work and patience.

This was a tortuous nightmare which seems to be never ending, a situation having you kept astray in a void of fear and anticipation, tickling every being of your flesh and bones. It doesn't matter how dedicated you are to him, he will find a way for you to lose, for you to give in to your ailing state of mind. So far, he had succeeded in making you feel small, belittled your presence.

Time stands still in this room; all air is knocked from your lungs when proceed to enunciate the first few words on the first page.

"We the undersigned parties, recognise and accept the submission of Moon Angel, hereafter called the 'slave' to Kang Yeosang, hereafter referred to as the 'Master', in a relationship of," you trail away, almost losing your voice, "relationship of voluntary servitude hereafter called 'slavery'."

In this blighted state of affairs, you're in a constant dilemma, whether you should've read and signed the contract beforehand, or not. To your better understanding, it would have been hundred times better if you had just taken out the time to read and sign the contract before. All this humiliation would've been avoided.

"Go on," Yeosang nudges you with a husky undertone laced to his words, "we've got a lot to deal with here, kitten."

Shaking your head, you swallow thickly to wet your sore throat before continuing, "by this instrument, Master agrees to direct, train and dominate, the Slave for Master's pleasure and benefit." 

Why were you aroused by this? You'd hate to admit it, but you were soaking wet from reading this so-called contract, by picturing the words jumble up on a pretty risqué imagery in your mind. In an attempt to alleviate the strain in between your thighs, you squeeze them, quite tightly for your cunt to rub against your flesh. Yeosang doesn't let your venture go unnoticed by him; rather, his lips lilt into a haughty smirk, playing the descant game of tease in his head.

Regardless, you press your lips together and mumble, "the slave's tenure will begin on the day of signing this agreement and end on the last day of the twelfth month after the day of signing. A review will take place every three months."

"Do you have any doubts till now? Perhaps, some questions which have been troubling your mind?" he asks, relaxing back into the chair and spreading his legs wide.

"Not really." You respond; however you couldn't resist peeking at his cock when he spread out his legs like that.

You catch the glimpse of his erection protruding through the flimsy material of his shorts; gauging by the outline, you could tell he had an impressive size.  Which doesn't really seem to be one of your biggest concerns at the moment. You should be instead, worried about what the future holds for you. It was easy to shrug off every possible leeriness you faced, up until he had asked you to fetch the contract from your room and meet him in his own.

Things went south. Quite quickly. Everything was a blur of moment, seconds dragging to something lesser than them, seizing to nothingness as time paralleled to nix. You entered his room, the dimly lit abyss of ambiguity and confusion; a queen-sized bed in the centre, draped in red silk sheets, and the curtains to the window stayed drawn together to filter out any natural light seeping in. His room was dark, and devoid of any unnecessary things. Even more peculiar, his room did not allow any sounds from the outside to saunter in and vice versa.

The entire aesthetic of his room was an enigma, an elaborate conundrum which would put anyone in a bewildering position. A desk remained shrouded in the dark by a corner, and two separate closets were bound to a side of the wall; one of them was locked with a silver padlock, and it also harboured quite a few intricate pieces of cravings in the wood. The other closet was basic, laminated with a much basic plywood. There was a door situated to the left side of the bed, presumably the bathroom, and to the right of the bed, was where the closets, and desk were located.

After spending the first few hours of the morning with Seonghwa, you were dragged by Yeosang to his room; on the way to his room, by the stairs, you came across Wooyoung who had then groggily greeted you before turning a side eye toward Yeosang. That, somehow, itched Yeosang in a wrong way and awoken something feral in him. He wrapped his hand around your waist and pulled you with him, not caring if you fumbled in your steps or were even capable of keeping up with his pace. First, he pushed you in your room, asked you (in a growl) to get the contract he had given to you and then he dragged you into his room. When the locks behind you clicked, your heart dropped to your gut.

Yeosang's sheer strength was enough to turn you on, enough for your cunt to start dripping at the thought of the other things he was capable of doing to you. He could easily manhandle you, throw you around like a puppet and bend you to his words. Inspecting your body then, he walked around you in circles, until he got too riled up to contain himself. He had ripped your shirt off your body, technically speaking, Jongho's shirt, and now it laid strewn on the floor in tattered pieces.

Many more things unfolded after that, he asked you sink down on your knees, he got himself a red-coloured hemp rope to tie your arms behind your back, and then he dragged a spare chair over in front of you and slid himself onto it. He sprawled the contract papers on the floor, for you to read through them, loud and clear.

And so here you are. In a probable dehumanising position.

"Your restraints aren't too tight, are they?"

"No..." your lips quiver, arms struggling in the hold.

They weren't tight or as uncomfortable as you thought they'd be; though, the rope was biting into your skin and chafing it every time you moved only as to little. You were quite astounded by Yeosang's preferences, and how he dabbled in the art of Japanese bondage called shibari. There's something about him you couldn't place your finger on yet. Regardless, the moment he started looping the rope around your arms and your back, you were crumpled down to pieces.

To Yeosang's eyes, you were a treat. He pities you for not being able to see how luscious you looked with the red ties scattered on your back, and around your chest; the rope did in fact loop around your forearms and crossed at the back, it formed an intricate pattern of a star with how it was tied. And in the front, it ran parallel to your chest, the rope running under and over your tits. Nothing could've stopped him from drooling at the sight of you; you on your knees, half naked and body shuddering ever so lightly every time he glared at you.

"The slave must reveal all appropriate thoughts, feelings and desires relating to servitude without hesitation or embarrassment," he states, clear and firm, "I'm going to ask you again. Are your restraints uncomfortable?"

"No," you reply, confidently.

"As a slave, what must you refer to me as?" he poses another question, still sounding resolute somehow.

"Master."

"That's my girl," he praises you, a smile breaking out on his face before he leans over to whisper, "I did not tell you to stop reading. Please, carry on. My patience is running out."

You take a breath of relief, knowing he hadn't tormented half of your being by forcing you to read everything from the start. But you were also transfixed by his words, by his presence. Gulping down the lump in your throat, you clear your head and proceed to read further on.

"This voluntary servitude may be renewed at the Master's discretion with the slave's consent." you take another breath in, and continue, "It is agreed that this period of slavery will be under the Master's direction and control and will be subject to the following conditions."

Yeosang hums along with you, "let us keep those conditions to ourselves. Why don't you read them in your mind and let me know if you have any concerns regarding them."

You take his suggestion well, spanning your eyes across the printed letters and comprehending them in your mind. As the time passes, the restraints start tugging you down; it was overbearing to hold the straight posture for all this time. Your arms had started to ache as well, going sore from having no freedom to move them around. However, you still held it in, held on the very little of your patience and dedication to get through this.

Reading the conditions, you could tell he curated his preferences perfectly on the paper. The conditions stated were beneficial to both parties; most importantly, they took the slave's gratification into consideration.

"Is everything understood so far?" he murmurs, peeking at you.

You raise your head and nod, "yeah. I think I got the gist of it."

Yeosang hums again, but his jaw clenches slightly and your gut knots itself, "I meant, yes master."

He smirks, "good. You're getting the hang of it." Tracing his thumb under his lower lip, he pulls himself off the chair and takes a few steps closer to you. He crouches down, his aura buzzing around with a certain heaviness, "I want to punish you for not obeying me. I had asked you way well in advance to read through this contract, hadn't I?"

"I'm—I'm sorry, I know should've done it—"

"—don't waste your energy on apologies, kitten. The time's gone."

His fingers pinch your chin and tilt your head further up, forcing you to meet his eyes; the dark, sullen, dour eyes of his show no emotions, not until a spark of lust and carnality breaks out. You gulp, audibly, squirming your thighs together to ease the tension between them. Beyond hope, you knew you had soaked through your shorts, you were sure Seonghwa's cum had slicked out all the way through along with your own arousal.

Dense air in the room leaves you to suffocate on your spit, while his lips caress the tip of your nose and drag along your cupid's bow. He presses a soft kiss against your lips, mumbling them in a haze of sheer want and need. When he pulls back, he adorns a scornful smile on his face, tugging his cheeks softly into his eyes.

"Get on your feet for me." He drags his words to a whisper, "now."

The authoritative tone flips a switch in you, turning your rationality off and switching on your submissive mind. He straightens up and takes a step back, watching your helpless-self struggle to get on your feet. You stumble while trying to bring yourself up from your knees, and the way your arms were shackled behind you, it seemed almost impossible.

Yeosang extended no hand for help, he quite enjoyed the show you had put on for him; a belittling chuckle is trapped in his chest, while his arms are folded over. He waits a beat, for a second to cross the threshold of your clumsiness before he leaps in and helps you up; there it was, his warm hands bracing against your waist, pulling you up on your feet and stabling your wobbly stature.

"Come here," he holds one of your arms and guides you to the chair; the contract sheets lay untouched on the floor, starting to flutter to the winds brought in by the ceiling fan. "Stay still, hmm?" he murmurs from behind you, his warmth painting an untamed desire on your back.

You nod, whispering, "okay."

Before you could voice your other concerns, his presence dithers away. Listening to some shuffles around in the room, you turn your head to find him unlocking the closet which had intrigued you before, the same closet with a silver padlock and intricate carvings on its wooden panels. The doors creak softly at the hinges when he opens them. Amid the pointless dark and silence, you observe him, noticing a soft glint of something metallic in his hands. You were unaware of what he had retrieved from the closet; bewildered, you continue to stare at him as he grabs a couple more pieces from the closet. Stricken by a haze of wonder and despair, you whimper under your breath. Tremors brush your skin, trickling your flesh with an ecstatic desire.

You press your lips together, preventing your needy groans from slipping past your lips; his footsteps ascend to you, while an object rattling in his hand. He stands in front of you now, fixing himself behind the chair to dump the things he was holding in his hands. As he is steadying himself back, you catch a glimpse of his smirk fleeting on his plump lips. When he straightens himself, you notice the objects spread on the chair.

A candle. A pair of what seems like, silver balls, alongside a small capsule-shaped button or something. And a silver plated lighter having a butterfly engraved on it.

A quick flick of lighter turns the flame on, he proceeds to light the candle; the wick burns with vigour, providing to the subtle morning light which had already begun to fade in from the window regardless of the curtains being drawn together. He sets the lit candle on the small desk, located next to his bed, right behind him. You must've failed to notice this one before, not that it matters now because you're too fixated on him, on his actions and what he tends to do with you.

"Ever seen this?" he muses, picking up the silver balls in his fingers.

Letting them dangle from his forefinger, he shows it off to you. It was your first time coming across them. The two marble sized balls were a half an inch apart from each other connected with a fine chain link; they appeared small and delicate.

"No," you mumble, "what are those?"

"Rin-no-tama," he pronounces it in a perfect harmony, and shrugs, staring down at the shimmering spheres hanging from his finger, "or orgasm balls." His eyes meet yours, "don't worry, they only create subtle stimulation. It's more of a teasing device than anything intense."

He strings out his words so casually, lips quivering with a vague smile. Taking a long stride around the chair, he comes to stand behind you; the balls clatter gently against his hand when he holds them by the long tail of chain adhered to the one of them. Your mind is a complete mush at this point, overridden with enthusiasm and anticipation. One of Yeosang's arms comes to tangle around your waist, while the other sneaks up your back and comes into your view. Right in front of your face, he holds the two orbs, their chrome shade alluring and intriguing.

"Open up," he whispers, nudging the balls closer to your lips, and pushing them till you're willingly opening your mouth. "Good kitten."

You moan at the praise; however, it's muffled by the tiny little spheres in your mouth; he continues to push them, trying to settle them deeper, and as he does, the tip of his fingers too sink in your hot and wet mouth.

"Cover them up nice and warm," he suggests, "they'll be going inside you."

Another desperate groan tempts to slip past your lips, but you bite down on it and continue to suck on the balls in your mouth. Yeosang's fingers plunged a little deeper than before, forcing the orbs further down your throat; he hums in satisfaction once he thinks it's enough. Offering a subtle tug on the chain he held onto, he pulls the orbs out and lets them dangle in front of you. They're slick with your spit; a thin layer coats their surface and translucent saliva strings adhere to them in a perfect curve. You squeeze your thighs together, melting at the thought of him stuffing those balls inside you.

"You get really eager, don't you?" Yeosang teases, slipping his hand from your waist to in between your legs; he slaps your thighs apart, and then proceeds to tug on your shorts. "Since it's our first time, I will keep it...easy for you."

As the last bits of his words dither in your mind, you had failed to notice how in one swift motion he had torn your shorts off of your waist. First the shirt, and now your shorts. Both laid littered in pieces on the floor.

"What do you mean—nghhhh!" your voice clamours to a moan, a sudden gelid sensation urging you to close your eyes and revel in it.

"Oh, you know," Yeosang grins, "take things slow with you." He bites down on his lower lip, addressing to you in a mumble, "relax for me, will you. Deep breaths."

Listening to him, you take a deep breath in, your anticipation pulsating past its limit. A second ticks, and he nudges one of the spheres against your folds, eventually dragging them along your slit to slip it in your cum-filled hole; the first orb stretches only so much, burning the pit of your stomach in a momentary heat. He tugs further on the dainty chain holding both of the spheres to have them fit snug in you. The warmth of his fingertips disrupts the peace in your heart; nifty tremors spread across your spine when he pushes two of his fingers in, delving them deep and gently pressing the balls further inside. If you could be honest, the cold sensation of the balls and the drifting warmth of his finger was wrecking your mind, giving you the sensory stimulus you needed so bad.

"Fuck—it's cold," you moan, rolling your hips down on his hand to let his fingers plunge further.

He clicks his tongue, immediately pulling his fingers out and offering one of your asscheeks a light squeeze.  "You're not supposed to enjoy your punishment, kitten."

"I'm—I'm not," you stutter, knowing well you were lying to him.

"Really?" he emphasises, groping both of your asscheeks and spreading them apart, "the way you were grinding down on my fingers, it said otherwise."

"I just—I need something more to—need something more to feel..." you trail off, going speechless for the moment when the heaviness of the balls settles in your cunt.

"No, kitten," he slurs, "you don't need anything more."

Yeosang glances at his fingers, coated with your juices and Seonghwa's cum from before; he honestly has no problem with it, and speaking in all fairness, he's used to this kind of plight. Watching the translucent fluid coat his fingers, he lets his lips curve to a conceited smile before bringing his hand in front of your face. His other hand stays tangled with your waist.

He clicks his tongue and prompts you, "lick these off. It's yours and Seonghwa's...afters."

Eager, you open your mouth and let him stick his fingers in; a familiar salty and bitter taste coats your tongue, with tender underlying tones of sweet. Enjoying the warmth and the sloppy confines of your mouth, he thrusts his fingers in till he's knuckles deep. You lap your tongue along his fingers, nonetheless, sucking them clean. Offering a few kitten licks to you his rough fingers, you muffle a whine when he pulls them out with a vile 'pop' sound reverberating around you two.

"Such a good kitten," he muses, "cleaned my fingers with her tongue. She deserves a treat, she really does."

His absence leaves your back, which alerts you and prompts you to straighten up slightly. And with that subtle movement of your waist and your back, your walls to clench around the metal orbs. A curt whiplash of arousal crawls up your spine, making you hiss at the furor which spreads across your body, rather quite instantly. Yeosang's face comes into your view; a face worth admiring, a face you could never get tired off. His eyes nurture a sense of slumber, and his plump lips are seemingly too kissable to deny the urge. The gorgeous man in front of you, standing right behind the chair, which was stuck between you two, had dubious intentions inscribed in the brown specks of his eyes.

Leaning in close to you, he cups your face with both his hands and nudges the tip of his nose along yours; he traces it down to your lips, only for a hot second before ghosting his own on yours. In the next minute, his tongue darts out and swipes under your lower lip. A smile fleets on his face, his eyes glimmering with an untamed desire. The grasp of his hands surrounding your face tightens, holding your face in one place as he abates the distance between your lips. A brush. A delicate brush of his lips wanes you to a complete silence, and it soon blooms in your chest, slipping out of in you in the form on a whimper. Yeosang's lips start lapping up with yours, dwelling into a heated kiss which starts mellowing out every sane thought in your mind.

For the time being, struck with his lips and his hands, you forgot your hands were tied behind your back, you forgot about the rope nicking your skin and leaving red marks behind; you were immersed in the way his lips moved with yours, how he softly grumbled when you tilted your head and deepened the kiss. Breathless, you kept it going, you kept your lips on his while his tongue prodded past them. Yeosang pushes his thumb pads into your cheeks, forcing you to heave a gasp and allowing him to push his tongue in. The slickness of his tongue wraps around yours, tackling it in the further warmth of your mouth.

He moans, sounding it from his chest when you start sucking on his tongue. You push his sloppy muscle out of the way and shove yours down his throat. In the despair of your body, you're slithering beyond to caress the tip of your tongue against his uvula. When his gag reflex kicks in, he groans and pulls your face away from his.

Out of breath and panting softly, he smirks, "my kitten is so desperate." He pushes himself back, continuing in a mere whisper, "come on, we've still got five pages to read over."

Tugging you to the place where you were kneeling before, he forces you to get down; without much hesitation, you oblige to his demand and sink on your knees, the stray sheets of paper kissing your bare skin. The metallic spheres which were sheathed deep in your cunt, fidget with your walls and stroke your arousal. You gasp when the balls plunge in the steepest part, only for the time you were adjusting yourself on your knees.

Yeosang grins to himself, watching you squirm and struggle to keep your spine upright. Hunching over, you fail to notice him extending his hand to wind it around your throat; with a simple and steady jerk, he forces you to meet his eye, his lips encasing one of the most impish smirks ever. His fingers dig deep into your skin, denting it with his mere strength and painting it with little crescents of his nails. The more you stare at him, the tighter his grip becomes around your throat. You choke on your spit, mouth falling agape to the torrid desire of breathing. In all seriousness, his fingers and thumb were pressing against the right places on your throat.

"Eyes on me," he growls, "when you're with me, I want your eyes on me. At all times. Exceptions would be—" he trails off, "—when you're blindfolded, or in any position which makes it uncomfortable for you to look at me." Letting silence speak louder, he bites his lower lip and waits for you to answer. And upon getting none, he snickers, "what do we say, kitten?"

You couldn't really get your words out, not when his hand continued to clasp around your throat, tightening every second and causing your walls to convulse into each other. The worst part, however, was when you writhed to the enthusiasm of getting choked; every time your body shuddered against the floor, the balls inside you built your arousal to its brim.

Regardless of your throat turning dry, you croak, "yes master."

"That's what I like to hear," a smirk splays on his lips, while he loosens his grip on your throat. A sudden wave of concern washes over his tone, "you should let me know if I'm crossing any limits, Angel."

You shake your head, coughing, "it's—I'm fine—I'm fine, really."

"Are you sure?" he asks, a smile wavering on his face before it is replaced with a straight line, "next time we meet, we'll be setting our boundaries. You need to tell me what you're uncomfortable with and what you're okay with. Got it?"

Nodding your head, you weakly string out, "yes, master."

Yeosang seems satisfied with your answer and pulls himself back on his feet, letting go of your throat; he towers over your slouched shoulders, arms folded over his chest as he coaxes you with an encouraging jab of his head.

"Continue. From where we left off."

His footsteps descend down the meagre dark beside his bed; he grabs the candle from the desk adjoining it and carries himself back to you. For a minute, in your state of bemusement, you gawk at his veiny hand which wraps so delicately around the candle. And later when the minute of confusion passes you like a dream, you come to terms with what he has planned for you. Yeosang's lips curve slightly with every step he takes toward you, his eyes glinting with mischief and lust.

"I can't hear you, kitten." He teases, "I'm assuming you've had hefty breakfast in the morning. Gonna need you speak a little louder, kitten."

You shift on your legs, sitting with a comfortable posture, distributing your weight equally on your calves before his words lash on you and make you squirm, causing the balls to twist and turn around in your cunt. The budding tension in the pit of your stomach is too much to contain; if only there was something more to unravel you. Biting on a moan, you nod your head vigorously and swallow some of your spit down to wet your dry throat.

"The slave hands her," you read the next page in line, eyes tearing up gradually from the pleasurable ache pounding at the walls of your cunt, "the slave hands her training over to her Master."

"Hmm," Yeosang hums and displaces himself behind you, "go on."

You're too focused on the reading to notice anything out of order. "The Master may give his slave 'free periods', be it in the Master's presence, where the slave—the slave may express herself openly and freely."

"That's right," he hums, his presence warming up to your back when he leans over slightly, "hmm, carry on."

Heaving in a deep breath, till it convulses your lungs into each other, you proceed, "there will be no punishments applied during these free periods. However, it is understood that the slave will continue to address her master with respect—ah fuck you."

A hot sizzle crawls down your back, trickling further and farther on your skin; the hot sensation traces a mere inch, and it dissipates to a steady streak of coldness. Muffling a whimper, you give yourself a little time to comprehend what had happened.

Candle. Wax. Hot wax. Hot wax on your skin.

You draw your shoulders in, and then roll them out, focusing on reading. As if you could really concentrate on the task at hand, when he is fixated on pouring the melted wax on your flesh. The burn of the candle grows intense on the crook of your neck, while his other hand lingers up and down your spine, dipping down the curve and then pulling back up.

Yeosang clicks his tongue, "you know the rules, kitten. From the top. Again."

You despised hearing those words, those exact words which caused you so much torment and frustration; if you could, you would pick yourself up the floor and leave, but sadly the contract states the otherwise. The contract states a lot of things, all of the phrases are now ingrained in your brain. Of course they would be, you've read them countless times. Even so, with all that you've read and spent your time reading, you hadn't gotten to the end of it yet.

"Please," you whine, "you caught me off guard." Squirming on your feet, your knees itch with an urge to unfold yourself from your position. Though even when the thought of you doing that crosses your mind, the balls in your cunt move, and wreck your body with the soaring pleasure. "Let me read, let me continue. I can't go back and read it all over again. I'm tired."

Yeosang sucks on his teeth, "fine. Let's put a stop to this. Don't worry about the reading for now, just relax yourself and take deep breaths whenever I tell you to."

From the back, he pushes the contract papers aside and they scatter further away on the floor. You're steep in anticipation, partaking in the little games he was playing with you. And to your surprise, he loops one of his arms around your waist and pushes his chest into your back. His other hand, holding onto the candle, comes in your view for a meagre second before it drifts down your chest. Peeking over your shoulder, he directs the candle towards your collarbones, right by the centre. As the wax on it melts, a few drops trickle and trail between your tits; you hiss at the burn, throwing your head back onto his shoulder and closing your eyes shut.

"Does it hurt that bad?" he chuckles, "you're such a pathetic liar, kitten. I know my way around this, the wax isn't even that hot, is it...?"

You press your lips together and nod, whimpering, "but it—but it scares me to not know where and when you'd..."

As you trail off, he chimes in, "when I would drip hot wax onto your skin, hmm?" he stifles another chortle and presses his lips against the crook of your neck, "well kitten, that's the whole point of it, isn't it? You anticipate, live in the thrill—doesn't that get you all hot and bothered?"

His hand which had been around your waist, slides down your lower abdomen and belly to trace circles on your mound; you bite back another whimper because his cold fingertips urged to graze further down to rub your clit. Pressing in circles, his middle finger dips along your slit, the sensation making you mewl. When he presses a little harder, the walls of your cunt tighten around the ovoid device fit snug in the deepest part of you. Yeosang groans the moment he feels your juices and Seonghwa's cum coat his sleek- long finger. He rests his forehead against your shoulder, containing his very urge to shove two fingers into your puffy cunt and saw you out as you deserved to be.

"Yes—yes, it does." You squeak, catching up on your slipping tongue and the hitching breath.

Speaking of truth, you were certainly beyond bothered. This session was dragging on in a painfully slow pace, and you wondered if this is how it's going to be with him at all times. Though, you couldn't completely deny that you were enjoying yourself, just as much as he was by toying with you. Yeosang doesn't utter another word and his warmth strays off your back; the intensity of the candle grows stronger on one of your tits, and before you could react to it in anyway, a good and hot wad of wax trickles down your fleshy tit and taut nipple. Pressing your lips together, you prevent yourself from whimpering to the searing heat, but it soon cools off and hardens around your skin, moulding perfectly. 

"Yeo—" at the verge of spilling his name out, you catch your tongue but it's too late, the sweltering wax is already leaking down on your chest.

"I do not recall giving you the audacity to call me by my name." His chuckle is long lost in your ear, "you need to learn, kitten, that, bound in these four walls, I'm your master. Do you understand that, or I do need to fuck it in your brain?"

You swallow the prickly lumps forming in your throat, and nod with an eager look, "yeah, yeah—I understand, master."

"Such a good kitty, she deserves to be treated, doesn't she?"

The nods of your head grew softer but still remained eager; as your foreboding anticipation would crash over you, Yeosang trawls the candle across your chest and continues to do so until he's painted perfect rivulets of crimson wax on your skin. Alluring shade, intricate patterns branching outward on your skin, it was a piece of art how the melted wax framed your chest. You tilt your head to catch a glimpse of the red streaks, captivated by his work. Yeosang grumbles a string of incoherent words, sounding a little off in his satisfaction; you keep yourself from whimpering his name, and shift about on your folded legs. There it was a blinding spark of tightness roiling in the pit of your stomach.

"Please, please, please..." you chanted in your haze of desperation, wanting to be relieved of your misery.

The man leaning against your back, clicks his tongue; his presence starts to dither, the warmth cascading down to a cold breeze of nothingness. He's off and up, the candle disappears from your line of sight, and it fills up with tears. You may not like to admit it, but you were really close to letting go of all the tension in the pit of your stomach. A simple nudge would be enough for you to come undone. Though, in the darker side of your mind, you couldn't foretell any of Yeosang's further moves. Sullen in the state of stillness, you take a deep breath and let the nifty moments roll out. And to your surprise, you find Yeosang placing the candle back to its rightful place; he turns on his heels, the meagre light illuminating a haughty curve of his lips.

"If my memory serves me right," he drags his words into a whisper, "I remember Seonghwa boasting about the head you gave him."

"Is it true, Angel?" your brows scrunch together in bemusement. "I would need to know it for myself, how well your mouth takes me in."

You gulp. Audibly enough for his smirk to lilt on his lips, stretching into his cheeks. "Say ah, kitten."

He prompts you with a mocking tone, having stood in front of you now. You tilt your head up, raising it high to meet his ambiguous eyes, drifting further apart into the dark intentions of his words. Without hesitation, you slack your jaw and open your mouth; all sounds are stuffed back into your throat when two of his fingers push inside your mouth. Pressing the pads of his fingers against your tongue, he pushes them further into your throat. The calloused yet soft skin of his fingers leaves an eerie sensation on your tongue, but you gulp it down and begin sucking on them.

"So warm and soft. Can't wait to have this mouth around my cock," he grumbles, throwing his head back slightly, "you know what, kitten? Why don't you show me what you can do with your mouth. Fuck my fingers first and then I'll decide whether this mouth deserves to have my cock in it or not."

A part of you was extremely pushed into this corner of desires and arousals; it wasn't just a dream for you, and even if it was, you were living it. Did it happen every day that you'd stumble upon an innocent man, seemingly unbothered and unfazed by mere interactions around him, only to find out he's much filthy in his mind than he shows himself to be? No.

Yeosang's way of teasing and slurring his words was turning you on more than you had ever expected. You squeeze your thighs tightly for your cunt to detangle the tension it was sparked with it. Though, it only made matters much worse because your feeble actions had made the balls inside you to create tremors in the pit of your stomach. Contemplating his words, you start sucking harder on his fingers and hollow your cheeks to constrain them in your warmth.

"Fuck," yeosang grunts, peeking at you through his half-lidded eyes, "wonder why I made you—fuck, kitty—" you lap up your tongue around both his fingers, pushing the tip over and under, "—should've ruined this mouth instead of making you read a pathetic little contract."

You hum in response, the gentle vibrations stifling around his fingers. Noticing, he coos, "aww, you agree too, kitten?" his lips curl, menacing a thrill in your stomach, "hmm, I need to know if you deserve my cock, or not."

Taking that as a challenge, you become determined and suckle his fingers deep in your throat; he doesn't resist and pushes into you. There's spit leaking out of your mouth, trickling down your lips and staining your chins with perfect opulent rivulets. He's caught admiring how you had started to choke on his fingers, screwing your eyes shut to help you alleviate the discomfort. You weren't exactly put in a state of unease, but you knew you'd take some time to get used to it. Yeosang's fingers weren't as sleek or long as Yunho's. They were rather girthy and veiny, taking up the entirety of your wet mouth. He keeps scuffing them on your tongue, fingernails digging in your fleshy muscle as he drags his fingers out of your mouth. The moment he's gotten them out, you cough, urging it all from your lungs before lurching forward.

"I'm convinced," he states, licking the fingers which were just shoving down your throat a second ago, "your mouth was made to please a cock."

As the wispy tones of his words dissipate in the air, you hear the soft scuffling of his shorts being pulled down; you peek back up, ravenous gaze creeping up his feet, thighs and then to his exposed pelvis. His shorts and briefs pool around his ankles, and he takes only a meagre second to step out of them. The next thing you know, his silly little tank top is discarded next to the pile of his bottom wear. Honestly, you wondered why he even wore that nifty tank top when it covered almost nothing of his chest.

"Master..." you spluttered through your chest, scoffing up the bits of spit and drool strings coating your chin and lips. "...be a good kitten—suck you off."

At this point, your brain was a mush. A complete mess of carnality, oozing past every limit. You felt lightheaded, and it wasn't because you had been staring, or slobbering at the sight of his cock resting against his lower belly, but because of the two very prominent and pronounced balls moving on about in your cunt. Realisation hits you harder than you thought it would; the balls kept rolling and screwing you over inside, painfully edging you to your orgasm. But they never pushed you to the very end of it.

"Yes, kitty. Patience," Yeosang lulls his words, "I'm just as eager as you to ruin this pretty little thing."

You watch him, helplessly, as he uses one of his hands to wrap it around the base of his cock. He gives it a few pumps, dragging his palm along the shaft to the reddened tip. While his other hand eases up to cup your jaw and his thumb hooks into your lower lip. His fingers rest under your chin, and his thumb prods at your lower jaw; you willingly let your mouth widen.

"Be a good kitty, hmm?"

You nod, shifting yourself on your knees to crawl closer to him. The stinging ache of your bounded arms was starting to turn forgettable. It was all too sudden, easy even, to forget about the pain when you were focused on something else. Here, getting your throat wrecked by him and his cock. Yeosang's size was impressive, really impressive; you don't find any joy in comparing lengths, but he'd easily be two inches above average.

"And I heard from Jongho that you..." he trails off, tugging up at your jaw to force your eyes on him instead of his cock. "...you like staring at—is that true?"

You want to shake your head and deny his petty allegations, but his thumb hooked in your mouth keeps you from moving even an inch. He pumps his cock a few more times before aligning the tip against your mouth. Having propped it opened with his thumb, Yeosang slips into your sloppy warmth without any effort, sinking down on his hips and pulling his hand away from your mouth. You feel the stretch on your lips, not much, but it's still there to remind you how well he had stretched your mouth open with his cock.

A lowly growl peeps from his chest, and he bottoms out in your mouth; soaked in your wet and warm spit, he closes his eyes shut and bites down on his lower lip. "Let me—fuck, so—kitten's mouth is so fucking warm—fuck, kitten, let me know if I can move or not."

You don't really have any mode to indicate him you were ready; so, you push your tongue to the top of your mouth and lick up a stripe under his shaft.

"That's a good kitten," Yeosang smirks, tangling the fingers of his both hands into your hair and pulls you away. "Gonna take my cock deep in her throat, isn't she...?"

With only his tip in your mouth, you rub your tongue around it and he growls which rings out to a chuckle, "fucking hell. Seonghwa was right, this tight little thing can really take a cock in."

He starts pushing on his hips, and you willingly swallow his cock. Reaching deep enough, the tip of his cock brushes over the roof of your throat, triggering your reflex gag in an instant. You choke on your spit but continue to slug his cock further down in your throat. A moan strangles itself in his chest, his mind going numb to the tightness and the warmth of your throat. Yeosang hurls his head further back, his neck arching to a perfect curve while his eyes stay shut tight; you peek up at him, your own gaze shining with tears and innocence. A tiny fracture in time coaxes him to compose and turn his attention on you. You're stalked by his predator-like eyes, every movement, every blink of your eyes, every breath you hitched out of your nose; at a point, you were starting to suffocate on his cock.

"Good kitty," he praises, his voice startling you a bit as it turns softer and melodious. "Sucking my cock so well."

He lets his cock stay buried in your throat for a minute more before pulling back, not completely out, however. You moan in response and flatten your tongue under his shaft, keeping it unmoving for a while. Yeosang fists his hands in your hair, guiding your head down on his cock to let it plunge deep again. The pace of him toying with your head is, steady and slow, easing out every time you gagged or choked on his cock the moment it reached your throat. One of his hands disentangles from your hair and traces around your throat; his thumb pushes right under your jaw, feeling a faint bump of his cock through your skin.

"Can you feel it, kitten..." he growls under his breath, "can you feel my cock—ah fuck—can you feel my cock bulging around your tight little throat?"

You groan, hollowing your cheeks and sucking him in deeper. He gets the answer he was hoping to get; his other hand still twined in your hair, lowers your head on his cock till your nose is scrunched up against his pubic bone, his soft and tender skin tickling your lips and nose. He was well groomed.

"That's more like it," he whimpers, tightening his grip around your throat to exert an additional pressure; it constrained the walls of your throat around his cock, tensing up your muscles. "A pretty mouth for my use."

You really wished you could voice out your pleasure as well. Though, that becomes a lost possibility when he starts thrusting himself back and forth in your mouth. You keep your cheeks squeezed around his cock as the pace of his thrusts picks up. Yeosang's lips part when a hoarse moan slips past them and his eyes screw shut at the feeling. One of his thrusts falls out of rhythm and he slips out of your mouth; glancing down at you, he clicks his tongue, and you eagerly wrap your lips around the tip of his cock. You lower yourself, without needing to be pushed by him. Struck with passion, he rolls his hips into your face and his cock is back in your throat, snug and warm.

When the tip of his cock brushes on your tongue, you taste a slight hint of bitterness from his precum and swallow it down. Spit dribbles out of your lips when he pulls his cock back, slithering onto your chin and further below; he clenches his jaw, the pace of his thrusts surging and continuing to be more spontaneous. He kept plunging his cock deep into your throat, kept your head steady by intertwining both of his hands in your hair. Tears well up in the corner of your eyes; his ruthlessness and roughness were too much for you to handle. You push your conscience through it, squirming in your place when you are struck by the heaviness in your cunt; the balls, they shuffled along your puffy cunt and teased a knot in your gut. Yeosang's hips rattle against your face, every time he pushed you down, your nose would get rumpled by his pubic bone and that would leave you no chance to breathe. Your lungs burned with the need in your chest, your body slowly starting to convulse to his animalistic lechery. With his every thrust, your chest would heft out, and the puddling streaks of wax would fall off your skin and onto the floor. He would go harder, he can, and he was about to; you knew it well, tears stain your cheeks and drool drips down your chin, drop by drop, eventually falling onto the floor. Clinging onto the last breath you scoured to take, you shift on your knees and the orbs fitted snug in your cunt, give your gut a little nudge to make you cum.

You were close. So damn close. It was starting to turn into a painful endeavour than pleasurable; you were gagging on his cock, strangled by his relentless and aggressive thrusts, and forced to choke on your spit because he won't pull out. Your mouth was a paradise for him, the tightness, the warmth, the way your tongue slopped under and over his shaft, it was all driving him wild. Amid his thrusts, you feel his cock twitch, indicating you he was close to his edge too.

Puffing out a guttural moan, Yeosang heaves a sigh and pulls himself out of your mouth. Sweat covers his body in a thin coat, glimmering against his skin; his hair sticks to his forehead and face, cupping around his cheeks as he pants and becomes too breathless to form words. Aching suffocation makes you cough out the spit which had been trapped at the back of your throat; your body wants to collapse; you want to lay down on the floor and roll into a ball to compose yourself. Regardless of the lethargy and stinging strain on your lungs, you look at him with teary doe eyes, opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out for him.

"Such a dirty little kitty, wants to make me cum, does she?" he mumbles, a smug smile curving his lips and his hands slipping off from your hair. "Then she better fucking swallow what I give her." A mild throb nicks at your neck from being angled in an uncomfortable position, though you could care less about it; slotting yourself in the similar position as before, you shudder when he rubs the tip of his cock along your lips, and cheeks. You were lost in the ecstasy of your lewd mind, your arousal only minutes away from coming undone; the connection between your rationality and tongue had been severed, you knew you were about to spew nonsense for him.

"Want to make my master cum—make him feel good," you voicelessly utter, your breath fanning over his cock, "kitty will...kitty will swallow what her master gives her." 

"Hmm, that's a good kitty," he grunts, nudging his thumb on your chin, "open wide now, kitten."

You do as he says, loosening your jaw and opening your mouth wide for his cock to slip right in. This time, he wastes no time in plunging his cock directly in your throat; his thrusts pick up the instant you start gagging on his cock, the tip submerging deep in your warmth. With his concise and sharp thrusts, your body rattles to his force and the rope shackled around your arms bites down into your skin. One of Yeosang's hands is back into your hair, though this time he collects every strand in a makeshift ponytail and guides your head on his cock by holding onto it. His other hand grabs your jaw, his fingers slamming tight across your cheeks; he presses them hard, compressing the space in your mouth to his cock.

"Ah, yes—fuck, kitten—a really good—ah, fuck, such a good fucking pocket pussy for my cock."

A few more rough and aggressive thrusts send you into a sensory overdrive, a nightmare breaking past the bounds of your mind and coming alive; you were aching with an intense urge to let go of the knot tautening in your stomach. You were on the verge of breaking down into tears and sobbing—hell, you had already started crying. Hot tears exude from your eyes, trailing perfectly down your cheeks and ending up on his fingers; your cheeks were still squished by the way. Yeosang was using your mouth quite adeptly, rutting his hips like an animal and pushing your head against his pelvis. You were so done, so tormented by the spheres clinking around in your tight cunt that you couldn't contain it anymore. You're the first one to fall apart, your body trembling to shambles and your mind fogging up with the aftermath. Your juices pool down on the floor, creating a splash with its sound resonating in the room filled with Yeosang's grunts and moans. Panting to the terrible weakness taking over you, your chest heaves up and down, erratically, your lungs screaming in need for air.

"My kitten made a mess on the floor," he grumbles, peering at the floor where your arousal, mixed in with Seonghwa's cum pooled, "such a bad kitty—fuck, such a bad kitty to relieve herself on the floor." biting back on his moans, he shudders as he continues in his raspy tone, "but my kitty did so good—pleased her master—fuck, so good—pleased her master so fucking well. She–she fucking deserves a treat."

Yeosang's cock twitches in your mouth; his eye had been fixed on your body all this while, learning every detail and habit about it. He admired your ability to gag on his cock, he liked the way your body convulsed in itself when you came, and he loves the fucked up look on your face. Sweat, tears, spit, covering every inch bit of your skin and giving it a shine; besides, your eyes, shrouded by darkness, a tinge of lust which shows how drunk you are on his cock.

"This face—ah, this fucking gorgeous face—next time, I'm taking a picture—fucking keeping it to myself to jerk off to." he's so breathless as he blabbers out.

That was the breaking point for him, your face, the stretch of your lips around his cock as he plunged in and out, and the eerie pleading in your eyes. As a sadist, he doesn't need anything else to feel him lose himself; he just needs your tears, your vulnerable moans and your tormented eyes. One more time his cock twitches in the deepest part of your throat, and suddenly warmth starts trickling down; his load floods your mouth in waves, spurting and gushing all over in your mouth.

He lets go of your cheeks and pinches your nose instead; his other hand still held you back in a ponytail, slowly and gently tugging on it to push you away so he can slip out from your mouth. When he pulls out, a few strings of spit and cum stay linked with your lips and the tip of his cock.

"Swallow." he sternly utters.

The clasp of his forefinger and thumb on your nose tightens, leaving you no choice but to breathe in through your mouth; eventually, you swallow down the entirety of his load. Bitterness of his cum makes you gag, but you still push through and once done, open your mouth wide to show him you had guzzled every last drop of him.

"Such a good little kitty," he whispers and let's go off your nose; he takes a step back and watches your body lurch into itself. You tired, catching up on every lost breath and it amused him how helpless you seemed, coughing, panting, face covered in bits of his cum and spit.

"This isn't over yet, kitten. Get on your feet." He commands in a stern voice, shaking up your body and getting you on your feet. "Sit here."

You find him standing behind the chair, his lips slightly curved. Finding his intense eyes swelter on yours, you somehow manage to stand on your wobbly legs and stumble to the chair. Instead of sitting like a normal person, your knees give in and slump down on the chair, earning an amused yet belittling chuckle from Yeosang.

"Seems like my kitty is tired." he muses with a pout on his lips, stepping around to kneel in front of you. "Don't worry, I'll take care of her."

Muttering almost incoherently, he lets a smile hook onto his face, his cheek fluffing up slightly at one side. Yeosang's eyes hold yours, keeping you arrested in the motion while you try to sit properly on the chair; the light caresses of his fingertips follow up your knees and eventually graze past your inner thighs. He spreads your legs apart, humming in satisfaction at the sight in front of him. You bloomed like a flower, your folds wet and slick; remnants of Seonghwa's cum still showed slight traces around your mound and slit. Yeosang drools, a wad of spit rolling out the corner of his lips.

"Such a pretty little cunt," he rasps, pushing himself closer to you, "a pretty pussy to devour."

The sheer waves of his warm breath ebb over your mound, shuddering your body and making you lose your mind. You throw your head back, arching your neck and lurching behind into the support of the chair. Yeosang whistles lowly, palming his hands further up your thighs and letting them rest too close to your cunt. He uses his thumbs to spread your folds apart, admiring the pretty pink flesh obscured by the limpid texture of Seonghwa's cum. Without any warning, Yeosang dips his head down, fluttering kisses on your abdomen and going lower to your belly. His lips graze your mound, and his tongue slides out, the tip pushing along your slit.

"Fuck—master, please—ah, Yeosang, feels good," you let his name slip past your lips, mentally cursing yourself at the fuck up.

Yeosang acknowledges your little mistake, by nibbling down on your clit with his teeth; it's a gentle nibble, but his teeth sink quite nicely to give you a whiplash. "Strike one, kitty."

"M'sorry," you mumble your head and close your eyes shut, focusing on the way your body had started melting under his breath and tongue.

Flattening his tongue, he laps up your slit and folds, his thumbs stretching you out and propping you open; he gives you soft licks, lapping up Seonghwa's cum. He swallows it down, whatever that he could scour from your pussy. And in a sudden rush, his tongue slithers to your hole, prodding and pushing inside. You tried to hold onto your own hands, your nails digging into the flesh of your forearms; the rope was nowhere near loosening, and that was awful already — but the urge to just tangle your hands in his hair and push his head down, was almost getting the worst of you.

"You'll have to get used to it, kitten," Yeosang huffs out, pulling away slightly only to bury his face back into your cunt; his tongue continues with the abuse, protruding into your hole and lapping up on your walls.

"I know," you breathe out, drawling on your spit and peeling your eyes open to peep down at him. "Oh, fuck," keeping your words to yourself, you stare at the man, absolutely turned on.

His head was between your thighs, his fingers pushing and stretching you out, while he devoured you like you were his last meal. You really did wish to push his head down against your cunt, help him reach to the deeper depths of your warmth. Yeosang's tongue thrusts in and out, toying with the metallic chain of the orbs which were fit inside you. The latter half of the chain dangled out; one of his hands disappears from your inner thigh and holds onto the little dangling chain, while his other hand rakes to your cunt. Giving you no time to comprehend, he slips two of his fingers inside, pushing and curling them to his pleasure and unravelling you.

The placid yet unruly thrusts of his tongue nudged the balls every time, and his fingers did too. You were already lightheaded from your prior release, but as he continued to plunge and shove, the tension for second release started building up in the pit of your stomach. To add to your arousal, Yeosang pokes the tip of his nose along your slit, pressing hard.

"Feels so good, Yeo—master," you quickly correct yourself, a heavy moan gliding across your tongue and making you bite down on your lips. "Hmmm—so fucking good." Your words are left to muffle by your clasped lips.

Yeosang takes it as a nod at encouragement and picks up the pace of his fingers, shoving them in deep and pulling them out painfully slow. His tongue curls inwards, pulsating against your g-spot.

You mewl, "yeah, fuck—right there."

Mumbling against your skin, Yeosang doesn't spare you any mercy. Finding a rhythm, he sticks to it, ruthlessly sawing his fingers through your cunt and his tongue surging deep to tighten the knot in your gut. Only a minute passes, and you clench around him; the metallic balls in you stimulate your release, alongside his fingers and tongue. This was too much, too much to bear; your body spasms one more time before relaxing and untying the knot. Easing out on the tension, your second release floods over you and forces a loud moan from you. All air is knocked out of your chest, sending pleasurable tremors down your spine and readying you for the aftermath.

You peek at Yeosang, who continued to lick and nibble on your cunt before pushing himself back; his skin shines under the limited light of the room, his nose, lips and chin are coated with a thin sheet of your juices.

"You taste phenomenal, kitten." He says, gathering himself together and composing himself on his feet. "Although next time, I'll be wrecking this sweet cunt with my cock."

Shuffling around, he drapes his tank top over his chest and pulls his briefs up; he looks around and clicks his tongue. "Ah, the part I despise the most. Cleaning."

"I don't think I'm in any shape to help you."

"Don't worry, I'll do it later. Let's get you a warm soak first."

"Seems bout right."

You're too fucked out of your mind to comprehend his words, but regardless, you heave a chuckle and close your eyes to let the silence and darkness flow through your mind. As time passes, Yeosang helps you with the aftercare; he prepares you a tub of warm water and pulls you in with him. Your back rests against his chest, while he rubs soothing circles on your thighs, lower belly and arms. Towards the end of the soak, he suggests brewing you a cup of hot tea, to relieve the soreness of your throat.

Once you were out of the tub, he pulls one of his sweatshirts over your head and offers to cuddle you. So, you spend most of your morning in the bed with him, his warm embrace sticking to you like a comforting blanket, while the two of you talk about useless things.

"So..." you trail off.

"So?" he squeaks, confused.

"Doesn't a master need to exaggerate his ownership over his slave?" you ask, biting your lip as you rest your head on his chest.

He snickers, his arms tightening around you and pulling you close, "he does. But what are you insinuating?"

"I've read it in books before, you know. How—how a master—"

"Do you mean collars and all that bullshit?" he instigates, gazing down at you. "Angel, I am not fond of the idea of showing off my possession over you. Besides, all of us here are sharing you with each other. I've always thought of it as unnecessary."

"Oh," you drawl on a breath, "I understand. It makes sense."

Reading the sulky pout on your face, Yeosang chuckles and shakes his head, "but if you want to wear my mark on your body, perhaps exhibit yourself as my slave with pride, then I can get you something."

"Really?" you peer at him, your eyes sparkling at the suggestion.

"Why not?" he muses.

"What are your thoughts on piercings?"

M.list | Previous | Next

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Cross to Bear

Summary: A certain monk catches the attention of a woman that Uhtred and his men are gracious enough to rescue. Based on this request. Warnings: Brief mentions of cancer, illness, death, abuse and alcoholism. Slight angst. Eventual smut. Word count: ~3.4k

She is sixteen when her mother passes away from the lump in her breast. She cannot grieve. There is no one left to shield her or her younger sister from the beatings that their father is eager to dish out each evening when he stumbles home from the tavern, drunk and stinking of ale. They make the decision to leave, taking their chances out in the world.

The life of a vagrant is hard, but the exhilaration that is found in freedom is simply unmatched. On bad days, she is forced to share her body with strange men in exchange for coin to ensure her and her sister have enough to eat. On good days, they pick wildflowers in the warmth of the sunshine, and at night tell stories as they cuddle up together beneath the stars. They never remain in a single place for long, always moving, always searching for somewhere to call home.

She is eighteen when her sister develops a fever. She soaks rags in a stream to cool the scorching heat of her skin, allows her to drain their waterskin dry without complaint, and rubs her back as the persistent coughing denies her sleep. Within three days her sister is too weak to travel any further. They have been sheltering in dense woodland and are at least a day’s walk from the nearest town, so she cannot go to get help, she cannot risk leaving her alone in the open for so long. She has no choice but to sit and watch her deteriorate, providing what little comfort she can. By the next morning she is gone.

Upon waking to the feel of her sister cold beside her, she finally allows herself to weep. The ache in her chest that she has held at bay for the last two years finally breaches forth, blooming painfully through the expanse of her heart. She cries for the loss of her mother, for the loss of the only friend she had in her sibling and for how utterly lost she feels. Long after her tears have subsided she remains hunched over the body, consumed by her grief.

“If it is fever you must burn the body.”

She has no idea how much time has passed as she has laid there mourning, but the voice startles her out of her stupor and she looks up to see four men on horseback looming over her. She hadn’t even heard them approach.

They look to be mercenaries, all of them wear light armor and carry swords. The man that has addressed her has long dark hair and is brutish looking. One of his travel companions is bearded and surly, while another has a half shaved head; the Mjölnir around his neck indicates he is a Pagan. Ordinarily, she would be fearful in the face of such intimidating looking men, and assume they mean her harm, however, there is something about the fourth man that eases her mind and assures her she is in no danger. He has soft blue eyes and a kind face that wears an expression that suggests he is more afraid of her than she is of him.

“I-I cannot. I am alone.” She confesses, her voice hoarse from her earlier sobs.

“Then you will allow us to help you.” The long haired man insists, climbing down from his horse.

She learns their names are Uhtred, Finan, Sihtric and Osferth. They carry her sister’s body to a clearing and she stands solemnly, numbness settling over her, as she watches it burn.

“Who was she to you?” Finan enquires gently.

“My sister, my only friend, all that I had left.” She doesn’t attempt to hide her despair, she does not have the strength.

“We should say a prayer.” Osferth offers, his voice soft and full of sympathy.

She has never been particularly religious. What kind of a God would allow her to endure all she has been through and think it just? But she finds comfort in his orison, joining in with the “amen” that he finishes with.

“What will you do now?” Finan asks her.

“Truly, I do not know. I have nowhere to go and no one to go with.”

“You can join us.” Uhtred steps forward, eyeing the rest of the group as they all nod their affirmation.

“I have nothing to offer you.” She says, her cheeks flush with shame.

“Neither do we.” Quips Sihtric with a wry smile.

“Then it’s settled.” Finan decides, clapping Osferth on the back. “Baby Monk, she rides with you, you’re scrawny enough that your horse can carry both of you without any trouble.”

When Osferth discovers that she has never ridden on horseback before, he suggests that she rides up front with him behind her, so he can ensure she doesn’t slip off.

He helps her into the saddle and then climbs on after her. Her heart hammers in her chest as he puts his arms around her waist to take hold of the reins. She can feel his leather breastplate pressed against her back. Being in such close proximity to him causes her breathing to quicken and she stays rigid as they set off at a leisurely trot, afraid that he may feel the reaction she is having to him.

“My lady, please relax, or this will be an uncomfortable journey for you.” He tells her, though his voice is hesitant with shyness.

She blushes scarlet with embarrassment, mortified that he has noticed her unease. She does as he says though, settling back against him. His presence is calming, the warmth of him against her coupled with the gentle undulation from the horse soothes her.

A few moments pass in silence before Osferth speaks. “What happened to you?”

“It is a long story.” She sighs.

“It is a long journey.” He counters. She can hear the faintest of smiles in his voice.

She tells him of her mother, her father, of her and her sister leaving home and all they had endured on their travels. She recounts her sister’s fever, of watching her fade, everything up to the point that she had met him.

He listens, allowing her to speak without interruption. When she finishes he is quiet for a moment longer.

“I am sorry for your loss, my lady. I pray better days may find you.” He says eventually.

She sighs, eager to focus the attention on anything other than herself. “And what of you? Do you have a family?”

“There is not much to tell.” He admits. “I was a monk. Now I serve Lord Uhtred.”

She detects a sadness in his tone, there is definitely more to his story, but she dares not press him further as he is clearly uncomfortable speaking of it. She feels foolish for allowing herself to entertain her attraction to him; of course he is a man of God, he’d never be interested in her.

They ride on wordlessly, eventually coming to a stop once the sun begins to set. They set up camp and she is touched by the effort that the four men go to to ensure she has the shelter of a tent and a bedroll to sleep on.

However, she feels too confined as she lays under the canopy, so used to being able to stare up at the night sky, pointing out each of the stars with her sister. She misses her.

Dragging her bedroll out into the open, she places it close to the dying embers of their fire and lays down.

“My lady, what are you doing?” She hears Osferth whisper in the darkness.

“I am not used to not being able to see the sky.” She responds.

When he says nothing, she allows herself to drift off to sleep, feeling the safest she ever has.

Her eyes flutter open as dawn breaks and she is immediately met by the sight of Osferth seated by the burned out fire pit, looking exhausted.

She pulls herself up slightly, rubbing her eyes. “Osferth? You are an early riser.”

He smiles uncomfortably. “Truthfully, my lady, I have not been to bed.”

“Why not?”

“I did not wish to leave you out here by yourself, it’s not safe. I watched over you while you slept.”

Her heart flutters at his admission, an involuntary smile spreading its way across her features, which he returns with a genuine one of his own.

As the weeks pass, she and Osferth become comfortable travel companions. She spends her days leaning into his chest as they travel by horse. They share a waterskin, their fingers brushing ever so lightly as they pass it back and forth. She is unable to help the tingles that dance across her skin at each of his touches. 

Their evenings are spent sitting around a fire, their knees grazing as they sit side by side, exchanging shy smiles and stories. He gives up the use of his tent, laying his bedroll out in the open too - a means for him to rest, but also ensure she is kept safe.

The first time that the group shares ale together, dread gnaws at her stomach. She has witnessed the effects that it had on her father, and does not know how she will cope with that when up against four men instead of just one. To her surprise and delight the mood becomes lighter and jovial as the amber liquid is passed around. She happily accepts and drinks her fill when Osferth passes it to her. He laughs when she grimaces at the taste.

She knows she is falling for him and there is nothing she can do to stop it. She is certain he feels the same way though, there can be no other explanation for how he looks at her, how he treats her.

That is until they stop for a few days in a town. She hurriedly follows Uhtred, Finan and Sihtric, as Osferth rushes over to them, pleading for help.

“He’s mine!”

“No, he’s mine, you bitch!”

“Filthy whore!”

She watches in shock as the two women exchange insults, slapping at each other, until Finan and Uhtred eventually pry them apart.

He has fucked both of these women. Both of them.

“Why do they fight over you?” Uhtred asks Osferth, holding back a red haired woman, who struggles wildly against him.

“I-I’ve no idea, Lord!” He stammers, before swiftly walking away.

But she knows why, and her heart sinks. She turns away, blinking back tears as she chastises herself for being so foolish. She had misinterpreted his friendliness for romantic interest and is now left feeling hurt as a result of her own delusions.

She swipes angrily at her eyes, swearing to herself that she will pull away from him after this, no longer allowing herself to entertain the girlish fantasy that they could ever be more than friends.

His behavior towards her goes unchanged though. He still holds her close as they share a saddle, still allows his fingers to linger against her own whenever they share water or ale, he sleeps outside each night with her, though always on separate bed rolls kept a respectable distance apart. It eats away at her, makes her ache, to endure such closeness and know it will never be anything more. Yet she endures it, knowing the only alternative is to return to a life alone.

It is a warm afternoon as she stands knee deep in the river, bathing. The water is refreshing against her bare skin and, for a moment, her troubles seem far away, running off of her in much the same way that the rivulets of moisture slide down her body.

She turns and catches sight of Osferth on the edge of the treeline, watching her. She has no idea how long he has been standing there for, but he freezes when he sees he has been caught.

While she is a novice when it comes to matters of the heart, she is certain the look in his eye is one of desire. Deciding to be bold, she steps out of the water and back onto the bank, not bothering to retrieve her discarded clothing. If her feelings truly were requited then this was the best way to find out.

She walks towards him, closing the gap between them. She can see his breathing is unsteady as he takes in the sight of her, he is trembling slightly. Leaning up on tiptoes, she presses the lightest of kisses to his lips, and her heart swells as, for the briefest of moments, he reciprocates.

As quickly as his lips meet hers, he is jerking away. “No, my Lady!”

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

Backing quickly away from him, the familiar sting of rejection piercing her heart once more, she grabs her clothes and runs from him, before he has the chance to say anything else. Tears stream freely down her cheeks, this time she does not try to wipe them away. This is the second time she has allowed herself to be drawn in by Osferth, only to endure heartache.

He has now made it perfectly clear that he’s not interested in her and she decides it is in her best interests to pull away from him entirely.

She forces herself to sleep inside her tent, becoming used to textile above her head, instead of the glittering stars. She sits as far from him as possible at every opportunity. There are no more shared waterskins, their knees no longer touch. If the rest of the group notice the shift in dynamic then they choose not to say anything. She rides with Sihtric, sitting snugly behind him in his saddle, ignoring the pleading looks of sadness from Osferth each day when she climbs onto another man’s horse and not his.

He is just missing her companionship, she decides, he will get over it when they arrive at the next town and he finds another woman to warm his bed. She hardens her heart, allows her sadness to devolve into anger and continues to keep him at arm’s length.

The day they arrive in Coccham, they spend the day at an alehouse. Uhtred has managed to acquire the only two available rooms upstairs for the evening, so they will have the luxury of sleeping in an actual bed for tonight. She is almost giddy with excitement at the prospect.

When they have drunk their fill, they head up the rickety wooden staircase. Sihtric and Finan file into one room, with Uhtred following close behind. He stops in the doorway, turning to her and Osferth.

“Looks like this room is full now. The pair of you can share that one.” He nods towards the door opposite, before closing his own.

Her face blanches. Bastard. He has done this on purpose.

She sighs, pushing past Osferth and stalking into the room. A small double bed takes up most of the space in the narrow confines.

“Oh, fucking perfect.” She spits, rolling her eyes.

Osferth offers an apologetic smile. “I can sleep on the floor, my Lady, I don’t mind.”

She rounds on him, her anger flaring. “I’m surprised you haven’t found another whore’s bed to share for the evening!”

His eyes widen in shock. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“You fucked those other women, Osferth!” She shouts, and before she can stop it, her voice is cracking as the dam bursts and she starts to cry. “You’ll put your cock into anyone but me it seems…”

His face softens and he moves to comfort her, but she is quick to push him away. “What’s so wrong with me?!”

He looks guiltily at her. “There is nothing wrong with you, my Lady, I think you’re beautiful. The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen actually…”

“But you rejected me! When I tried to kiss you, you rejected me.”

He shakes his head, closing the gap between them and gently grabbing her by the shoulders. This time she doesn’t push him away. “You didn’t give me time to speak.” He explains, looking into her eyes with sincerity. “I wasn’t rejecting you. You deserve better than to be humped against a tree. If you’re to be my woman then I want our first time together to be special.”

She sniffles, her tears subsiding, replaced by confusion. “Your woman? If that is what you wanted then why did you lay with those other women in the last town?”

He sighs, averting his gaze, shame etched across his angular features. “That is not something I’m proud of, my lady. I have wanted you for so long, and been so pent up, I needed a release. I never told you of my feelings because I didn’t think I stood a chance. You are so wonderful and I-I am Osferth. I am simply Osferth.”

Her heart beats wildly against her ribs as she listens to him, staring up at him doe-eyed, unable to resist the grin that tugs at the corners of her mouth. 

“Yes, you are Osferth.” She whispers, leaning up towards him.

When their lips meet he does not pull away. He wraps his arms around her, his mouth moves hungrily against hers in a kiss that is full of need and desperation. They pull at each other’s clothing, months’ worth of built up longing propelling their movements.

When they are both finally naked, Osferth guides her to lay back on the bend and she drinks in the sight of him appreciatively. While he is tall and slender, he is not as skinny as she’d expected him to be, well developed muscles add a broadness to his chest and shoulders. His erection sits hard, thick and heavy at the apex of his slim thighs and she bites back a moan at the sight of it, arousal pooling hot between her legs.

“You really are beautiful.” He murmurs, his gaze flickering over her form as she lays beneath him. “Will you let me show you just how much I desire you, my Lady? I wish for there to be no doubt in your mind.”

She nods, biting her lip in anticipation, waiting to see what he will do.

His hands trace over every curve of her as moves slowly backwards down the bed, stopping once his face is level with her cunt. Spreading her thighs he inhales sharply at the sight of just how wet she is for him.

There is no preamble, and she gasps, arching her back when she feels the flat of his tongue move through her folds.

He whimpers softly at the taste of her, the sound vibrating through her core, his grip on her thighs tightening as laps greedily at her, occasionally dragging the tip to her pearl, causing her legs to tremble.

She cants her hips against his face, noticing how he ruts against the bed as he devours her, his moans of pleasure intermingle with hers and the sloppy sounds of his lips and tongue moving in earnest against her centre. 

As he sucks harshly against the apex of her sex she begins to feel the pressure of her climax building deep within her, her breaths becoming short and shallow. Osferth’s grip on her is almost bruising as the movement of his thrusts against the bed speed up.

With a final swirl against her bud, she falls apart against his mouth, clenching and writhing as he keeps his mouth firmly against her as she cries out in ecstasy, white hot sparks of pleasure rendering her boneless and light headed.

She closes her thighs around his head as he emits a guttural groan against her oversensitive cunny, his own pelvis stuttering against the mattress. 

He appears dazed as he finally looks up at her, eyes hazy and chin shiny with her slick. She is certain she must look similarly bedraggled with how hard he has caused her to peak.

“We may have to wait a moment before we do anything else.” He confesses sheepishly, sitting up and looking down at the blankets where he’d been laying. 

Her gaze follows his line of sight and she sees the mess he has made, a large patch of the bed now sticky with his release.

“You’re lucky we have the whole night then.” She giggles.

He moves to lay beside her, pulling her against him. “Yes, very lucky.”

[crippledwithrage]

I'm somewhere between a B and A cup, so I'm on the smaller side of chests. I've tried different methods of taping and all it did was make them not jiggle when I walked- like a tape bra.

This method, however focuses on the pec shape rather than flattening perfectly.

I came up with it after wasting half a roll of trans tape on other methods, but this one really helped me!

All bodies are different so don't be afraid to experiment with different styles!

Make sure ur musty ass is clean when you put the tape on or you'll be taping over dirt and sweat which is going to give yourself an infection.

Here's a tutorial I found on larger chests and bodies!>>> https://youtu.be/USNvHelRBoU

When making the anchor (the part that sticks to your skin before you pull the rest of it) make sure it's flat and attached well using heat and friction.

(Round the fucking corners of the tape! It gives more traction! )

The first strip is 3 segments and starts near the bottom of the breast where the skin folds over, and pulls up towards the armpit diagonally.

Be sure to pull up first. If you pull down, it may damage the tissue and make top surgery impossible.

The second piece pulls downwards diagonally from the top towards the bottom of the ribs at the back (near your floating ribs). Make sure it doesn't wrap all the way to your shoulder blades.

(That way you can reach It to take it off properly)

It's important not to do this backwards because you shouldn't pull down! It should look like pecs, but remember, cutting board flat is unrealistic and dangerous!

The skin will itch in the middle so feel free to use anti itch cream to alleviate.

Remember > the tissue may be more dense like mine which makes this using transtape frustrating.

Again, feel free to alter it if it doesn't work.

If you have sensory issues, be aware of your boundaries! You can feel the tape on you but don't be afraid to say that it doesn't feel right.

Adjust it or try a different binder. Fytist is the best for sensory friendly binding.

With tape, you'll be able to feel your shirt on your chest and back when using transtape too, so that's something to get used to.

Wear a heavy jacket or sit against something to make that odd sensation go away.

I'm disabled, and I have issues with my oxygen levels so breathing properly is a must. Binders can make it hard to breathe and cause joint pain which is a bitch of a time for me. In the summer, especially, since they get hot.

Binders work for me, luckily, but this method of tape allows for clear breathing.

No squeezing sensation and free range of movement.

It minimizes pain, and allows me to breathe freely as I would with nothing on. If you have breathing problems and can use tape, I highly suggest this.

You can sleep in this stuff and use it for 4 ish days. If it hurts or pulls, or even blisters, take it off! It's better to have a bad day than to live with a mistake forever. Bind safely!

This is for those of you who feel like they're not "flat enough ". Markipier is a cis man and I personally love that he never hides that his chest is somewhat fuller. He has pecs and wears tighter shirts, and this is literally the norm for men. This is the shape you should be going for, not cutting board flat. Most men aren't flat anyways.

When in dysphoria, remember markipier!

Lastly, if you can get cutting board flat, be sure to check if your method is safe and that you're not pulling down. If it's safe, congrats! But I will find you and I will delete your minecraft worlds if you bully others about their chest.

Stay safe out there, queers!

[nationaldaycalendar]

MEDIA ALERT | NEW DAY PROCLAMATION | WORLD DENSE BREAST DAY | Last Wednesday in September

MEDIA ALERT | NEW DAY PROCLAMATION | WORLD DENSE BREAST DAY | Last Wednesday in September

MEDIA ALERT | NEW DAY PROCLAMATION | WORLD DENSE BREAST DAY | Last Wednesday in September We highlight World Dense Breast Day on the last Wednesday in September to raise awareness about the importance of breast screening, breast density, and other screening tests women should consider after their mammogram. #WorldDenseBreastDay Dense breasts can both hide cancers on a mammogram and also increase…

[voidsentprinces]

Shadowbringers took Emet-Selch from ARR Lahabrea levels of mustache twirling, Saturday Morning Cartoon villain. All monologue and evil laughter while his evil boobs malevolently boobed down the Post-Stormblood's darker breast boobily and changed him into an actual character. And the first Ascian who actually spent time with us in a more meaningful way. Flipping them from one note, evil that must be defeated. To one we came to understand and a group that connected to our character's literal past reincarnation that we do not recall.

Additionally, atmospherically, Shadowbringers brought us to Post-Apocalypse that wasn't 28 Days Later, Mad Max or Rapture-esque. While pulling from all those series. Its a world 100 years after the Apocalypse was averted but still causes the world to live in its shadow.

This expansion seems to be the beloved darling of the community. Even topping Heavensward in most regards. But, also, personally, I feel like Shadowbringers is only good Shadowbringers for the last three levels of it. And rest is just so much set dressing and putting together the A-Team. For lack of a better comparison, 70 - 79 is our Avengers Infinity War. We get the band back together, fight off the big bad and actually almost win. But then we lose and we lose HARD and we spend a handful of quests somewhat wandering aimlessly until we resolve to go after the one who took victory away from us. That lead up, to me, is alright but the story didn't really HIT, outside of my long winded story analysis reasons, until we reach Amaurot.

Even its Post-Patches seemed to struggle to figure out what to do. Having Elidibus bounce hither and thither without the Scions really trying to stop him because, "We don't know what he is up to." which was counterproductively frustrating to me. You are literally not stopping and banishing the villain so the plot can happen. Alisaie literally kept tabs on the Warriors of Darkness because we were focusing on dealing with Nidhogg. Why the hell couldn't they have kept tracked and harassed Elidibus at least? But no, the sky starts to shower stars and then it is go time. And while To the Edge and the Seat of Sacrifice are awesome. My suspense of disbelief that our Scions would just shrug and only off screen keep tags on lesser Ascians and then just be like, "I dunno fellas, this here Elidibus is tricky." strikes me as dense. Like, this is denser than a dead star. They let things happen for the sake of it happening.

Bottomline, there is some wiggle room here. Shadowbringers may be the community's darling. But I wonder if, its just because we remember the super highs of Amaurot to Seat of Sacrifice. And kind of brush things like; the Ran'jit fights, the Supernatural problem of Lucifer's Cousin's Roommate being the big bad in Lunar Primals, Thancred's treatment of Ryne and Speedrunning him some redemption in the Amh Araeng second half.

I'm rambling now, as a whole. Did you enjoy Shadowbringers? If not why? Vote your answer and leave your opinion in the tags if you'd like.

Note: I am aware that the Post-Patch production was stunted by the COVID Pandemic. Still, I'd like your opinion about anything you felt lacking. Even with that dead whale hanging over the entire thing.

[loominggaia]

ETIOSI CUISINE

OVERVIEW

Etios Nation is a Great Kingdom founded by gaians, for gaians. Only minotaurs, centaurs, satyrs, fauns, and gorgons are permitted to own land here, and so these species make up the vast majority of its population. Etios’ territory encompasses hot, dry plains and cold mountains, supporting a wide variety of crops to farm and animals to hunt. The Etiosi people live a stone age lifestyle out of respect for the environment, which keeps their food pure and free of toxic chemicals.

NUT BREAD

This simple but delicious bread recipe originated with an ancient tribe of fauns called the Alses-Kwaa. This native tribe shared the recipe with Matuzan colonists who founded Etios Nation, and today it has spread far and wide into foreign lands. This dense, filling bread is overloaded with nuts and seeds, primarily pine nuts, chestnuts, and almonds. Chunks of dried fruit, such as figs, are also a common ingredient. It takes a long time for nut bread to spoil, so it’s an essential snack for travelers in Etios Nation. Just one small piece provides a lot of fat, carbs, and calories.

YIYAGURT

This controversial yogurt is made from the breast milk of minotaurs. While most foreigners turn their nose up at such a dish, it is considered a normal staple for the Etiosi, especially in minotaur communities. Yiyagurt is higher in calories than other yogurt and is traditionally eaten with flax seeds. It is loaded with beneficial bacteria that is said to heal conditions of the bowel. In Etiosi culture, it’s considered taboo for males to make this yogurt. Etiosi women will not even teach their sons how to make it, only their daughters and female relatives. Eating yiyagurt made by a male is said to bring illness upon the consumer.

GRILLED HOGAWK

Pig-hawks (colloquially known as “hogawks” to the Etiosi) are one of the most common ranch animals in Etios Nation. They are large, flightless birds with sharp talons and teeth, and while they can be quite dangerous, they also produce large yields of meat and eggs. They are usually ranched by heavyweight peoples like minotaurs and centaurs, who can shrug off their attacks. This bird’s meat is prepared in numerous ways, but the traditional Etiosi way is grilled and sprinkled with seasonings, particularly tomato flakes.

GRASS

Minotaurs are the only gaians that can digest grass properly, thanks to their multi-chambered stomachs. Grass is a popular staple food for minotaurs worldwide, but in Etios Nation, it’s more than a food: it’s a whole culture. There is a world of snobbery that revolves around grass here, as Etiosi minotaurs argue about what kind of grass is best, what stage it should be harvested, and whether it should be eaten raw or cooked. Some grass-snobs will even argue about the composition of the soil it is grown in and how much it should be watered to produce the best taste. Most non-minotaurs just can’t understand all this fuss around a plant they only walk on.

SATYR WINE

Etios Nation is home to unique nature preserves, where satyrs are free to live their traditional, nomadic lifestyles in the wilderness. These satyrs produce a traditional type of wine simply known as “satyr wine”, and its recipe varies depending on the individual satyr who makes it. Most commonly, it is made from berries that were foraged from the wild. Female satyrs rarely make this wine themselves, but instead receive it as a gift from males who are trying to seduce them. A lot of this wine is exchanged at satyr revels; big parties where satyrs and nymphs congregate for days on end. Oftentimes satyrs will produce too much wine and sell the excess to Etiosi colonists. A steady flow of satyr wine pours from Etios’s nature preserves on a daily basis, so it can be found at most markets throughout the nation.

LAMSAKA

This dish is made by layering a sheet of scrambled hogawk eggs and cheese over minced mutton and tomatoes. This is a favorite dinnertime dish of all Etiosi peoples, but especially centaurs and minotaurs. It is fatty and filling, with a taste so good it’s hard not to overindulge. When foreigners think of Etiosi cuisine, the first thing that usually comes to mind is Lamsaka. It’s actually an ancient Matuzan dish from the Olive Plains region, but when this region was colonized by Etios Nation, lamsaka saw a boost in popularity and became associated with the colonizers.

BEAN SOUP

A dish most popular with Etiosi fauns. It is a creamy soup served in a gourdskin bowl, loaded with beans, tomatoes, corn, and chunks of squash. Etiosi bean soup sends most consumers running to the bathroom due to its very high fiber content, but faun bellies are well-suited to handle it. In fact, fauns can become fatally ill if they don’t consume enough fiber, so many fauns eat this soup as an everyday staple to keep themselves healthy. When eaten in small portions, it is a healthy choice for other peoples too. Traditional bean soup is vegetarian, as fauns don’t digest meat very well. But when prepared by other peoples, it usually contains mutton or poultry.

YIYATSI

Yiyatsi translates to “breast drink” in Kwaanese, the ancient language of the Alses-Kwaa tribe. A fitting name, for this drink quite literally comes from the breasts of female minotaurs. Yiyatsi is consumed worldwide, but is most common in Etios Nation simply due to the sheer concentration of minotaurs living there. Female minotaurs are well known for over-producing milk. They lactate for years after giving birth, produce more than a single child could ever drink, and this milk is well-tolerated by all other peoples. Because of this, it is often bottled and sold to hospitals, orphanages, and even grocers. Most peoples wouldn’t dream of consuming such a thing, but Etiosi culture embraces yiyatsi as a traditional beverage for all. It is dense in fat, nutrients, and calories, so it’s a popular drink for soldiers, athletes, and anyone looking to bulk up their muscles.

HONEY POCKET

These delicious cookies originated from the Pronga faun tribes of the Midland Jungle. However, many Pronga migrated south during the Gaian Exodus, an event which formed Etios Nation. Their ancient honey pocket recipe survived the migration and became a popular dessert for all Etiosi peoples. Honey pockets are soft, sugary cookies filled with honey and sometimes also fruit. They are traditionally served warm. This big shot of sugar is best enjoyed in moderation, as eating too many can lead to tooth decay and diabetes. Since casting spells burns calories, mages are especially fond of them. They are also a good travel snack that won’t spoil for a long time.

FISH WRAP

Raw fish is eaten mostly by Etiosi’s Aquarian population, but sometimes Terrian peoples eat it too. Terrians are at greater risk of foodborne illness from uncooked seafood, while Aquarians have the guts to resist these illnesses. The fish wrap is a dish that originated with sirenes living along Etios Nation’s coastlines. It is raw fish strapped to a piece of tofu with seaweed. Alternatively, the fish may be strapped to a pickle spear or some other vegetable. While the raw version remains most popular with Aquarians, Terrians tend to prefer this dish cooked.

*

Questions/Comments?

Lore Masterpost

Read the Series

[h0neyfreak]

I’m gonna share another very useful approach to life as an adult with ADHD: cooking and nutrition edition.

The American idea that dinner is “meat/protein with a veggie and a side” and that this is somehow an easy thing to prepare is a lie. That’s so much work. Sometimes I like making a meal that requires a lot of effort but that’s not sustainable for my average weeknight dinner.

I would like to instead introduce you to my world of Sauce Based Cooking. It is predicated on the idea that the “one pan meal” is not a category of recipe but rather a decision made by the chef. There are some deviations (some meals require a pasta pot and/or sheet pan) but that’s still way less than a lot of recipes call for. If it requires a blender, simply close the link and step away.

Rules for Sauce Based Cooking Freedom:

Have more spices/flavorful pastes than you know what to do with. Better than Bouillon and miso paste and curry paste and spice mixes etc etc. You are not running an authentic Tex-Mex restaurant from your kitchen just get the taco seasoning packets.

If you eat meat, you should be buying bone-in skin-on chicken thighs. Not chicken breasts. You can braise a chicken thigh for two hours and it will only get tastier and better. Cooking a chicken breast is stressful and requires a level of precision im not prepared to give to a chicken.

Focus on learning to make tasty BASES. You have learned if you make it and it tastes good to you. Nail down a good cream sauce, perfect your 20 minute marinara, learn a coconut curry, figure out the basic components of a marinade. Add some ground ginger to your chicken soup and thank me later. Then cooking is just beating protein and veggies into submission under your sauces and above your grains.

Don’t try and make ~dishes~. I call this “Zelda cooking.” You need something that you enjoy eating and gives you the nutrients you need to function. Prep vegetables and proteins you like and dump them into a sauce you also like. Add some polenta or bread or rice or couscous or any other grain to soak up the sauce and make it filling and satisfying. 9 times out of 10 it’s gonna work. The only decision you need to make is the flavor profile of the sauce.

Buy the precut vegetables. I know. It feels wasteful. So much plastic. But I promise you it’s way more wasteful to throw out half your groceries and order Uber eats 5 days in a row because you never managed to chop an onion. It’s okay. Precut/frozen vegetables and canned ingredients and prepared food items are going to be your lifeline. I can turn a rotisserie chicken and plastic tub of mirepoix (pre chopped onions, celery and carrots) into a delectable soup with just things in my pantry at this very moment.

Same as above but line the pan with foil. Save yourself a dish.

Add at least one vegetable to everything you cook. This might be controversial but you need fiber. And all sorts of other vitamins and minerals that things like kale and carrots and sweet potatoes have. My go to is canned chickpeas. A jar of marinara plus some canned chickpeas and kale is suddenly a hearty and filling topping for pasta that’s gonna satisfy me way more than just the pasta and sauce. And all I had to do was dump a can and a bag into the pot. That’s not a dish that really exists or has a recipe but it’s Sauce Based and I eat it a lot.

Keep some fortified cereal (most cereal is fortified by default) and trail mix on hand. Sometimes I get in a funk and order a lot of takeout or just eat a lot of carbs and not much else and then get woozy because I’m a little dumb and don’t eat a lot of animal products so all my Nutrients are low and that makes cooking harder. Fortified cereal and trail mix together will have most of the stuff you need to get rid of the lightheaded wooziness (iron and b12 and fats and sugar) in a dense little package that’s easy to munch on while cooking.

Finally, I know online recipes and Pinterest are great and wonderful but get proper cookbooks whenever you can. The first reason is that even with AdBlocker online recipes are a minefield and can be distracting and frustrating and overwhelming which are all things you don’t want when knives and hot pans are around. The second is that you will learn so much about cooking from a proper cookbook and the better you are at cooking the easier and faster it goes. ThriftBooks has plenty as will your local library or even older relatives. Ones like “Cook What You Have” by Christopher Kimball and “The New York Times Cooking No-Recipe Recipes” book and the classic “The Art of Simple Food” by Alice Waters are great.

[imgabysama]

Brazilian ghouls✨ Part 1

(This is more like history and miscegenation lesson)

And this is a very, very long post

I'm really bad at this kind of thing (I'm actually not smart), but I really like my country and ghouls, soo, here we go

• Ok, Let's start with vital points, Brazil was a major distributor of coffee throughout the world for a long time and thanks to colonization our culture is extremely mixed, as most families have several descendants from different nationalities such as: Portugal, Africa, Japan, Italy, Germany, Dutch, Lebanon, between others, and of course a very rich and explored culture and diverse villages of original peoples that to this day are treated as if they did not exist

• Anyway, my main point is that here, it is extremely common to have multiple ethnicities and nationalities mixed in the blood. And this would be no different with ghouls

• I'm almost certain that the population of mixed-race ghouls in Brazil would be higher than anywhere else on the planet.

• First, following @tg-headcanons 's headcanons, before colonization, some indigenous villages which were found far from the coast and more in the center of Brazil (Jes) were able to coexist peacefully with ghouls, and since that time, there were already mixed relationships

• The villages were independent of each other, so there were also ghoul-only villages

• As Brazil greatly developed planting and agriculture, that the original people were capable of making recipes, using feasts from bodies collected in battles with rival villages, and specific recipes that used methods to make tubers edible for ghouls, such as cooking in blood, they also used breast milk, bones, and locks of hair in recipes or in consumption

• Brazil had a subspecies of ghoul "Suú-suúTa-ta" (from Brazilian Tupi, something like "fire chewer", capable of throwing the kagune on fire, which generated countless legends such as "boi tata" (a giant fire snake) and the curupira (the protector of the forest, a boy whose hair catches fire and his feet are inverted, he runs through the woods) These ghouls did not live in communities, but roamed the forests and lived in solitude, which ended up making them extinct.

• The native ghouls' hunting method was very native, hunting ghouls could spend hours or days on top of trees, waiting for prey, they imitated Brazilian animals, such as the jaguar (onça pintada), Attacking with a single bite to the base of the skull and crushing, or like anacondas (sucuri) or boa constrictors (jibóia), wrapping the prey with the help of the kagune and crushing the bones

• I think the bikaku would be the most common kagune in Brazil, the Ukakus in second place, would use the crystals as arrows

• Some ghouls could ingest sugar cane instead coffee

• Ghouls had a less developed language, mostly just sounds and limited words, without advanced grammatical training, the hunting ghouls were even quieter

• The ghouls attacked people from rival tribes, and the mixing of species began with marriages and unions between villages, to establish peace.

• These unions were usually with a female farmer or healer, and a hunting ghoul that was normally integrated into the village

• When a pregnancy occurred in these unions, there were rituals and great expectations, women began to consume meat that previously was only served to their husband and therefore, many of them discovered how to integrate the human and ghoul diet together.

• Crossbreeds between ghouls and humans were usually very strong and respected and were also influenced to procreate, which led to the beginning of miscegenation between humans and ghouls.

• Then, we have colonization, many African ghouls were brought along with others on slave ships, and many European ghouls took the opportunity to escape hunting and burning in the Europe and they came in caravels

• As colonization progressed, native ghouls were burned or drowned, those who did not have ties and families with humans hid in the dense forests of the Amazon

• European ghouls usually looked for ghoul slaves as well, (but they bought human slaves to eat) and were also surprised by the presence of half-ghouls

• African ghouls and native Brazilian ghouls used to always find each other strange, but when they were subjugated together, the ghouls began to learn about each other and the different cultures

• Miscegenation advances with ghouls, mixing not only nationalities, culture, but also subspecies, hunting methods

• Cuisine also advances, European ghouls were able to ingest only coffee, native Brazilian ghouls were able to ingest sugar cane and tubers prepared specifically for ghoul consumption and African ghouls could ingest some types of peppers or beans

• Natural mestizos had even fewer dietary restrictions, however, their kagunes developed less

• When people began to mix, European, native or African ghouls, the characteristics of African mimics became increasingly common, many European ghouls wanted their heirs to inherit the strong jaw and Brazilian bikaku

• However, the European elite stopped, or at least tried, with the mixture, when their heirs did not inherit Brazilian characteristics, at least not the ones they wanted, it just created good old eugenics and didn't stop other ghouls from banding together despite ethnic and genetic differences

• Little by little the ghoul community in the country increased, as the centuries passed, Brazilian culture shaped itself and became increasingly welcoming, ghouls were not just monsters, but part of the community and society

• European ghouls stopped living in the shadows, assuming themselves as ghouls when they achieved great purchasing power, this occurs in the 19th century during Brazilian independence

• Mestizo, African and native ghouls formed a strong alliance and built a culture, along with the enslaved humans at the time

• Many enslaved humans saw ghouls (except European ghouls) as heroes, since many ghouls rebelled and killed the plantation owners

• Ghouls were not excluded from Brazilian culture, but included in its daily life, culture, history, religion, folklore

• As more people immigrated to Brazil and ghouls from all over the world began to learn about the country of coffee and the strong, mixed-race ghouls, many ghouls from different countries started moving to Brazil

• This happened in the 19th century, when Brazil achieved "independence" from Portugal and became a monarchy (with the fucking Portuguese family in charge), It was an important century, Brazil experienced the success of coffee farming, abolished slave labor and received several immigrations

• With all these changes, the ghoul community grew even more and the mestizos had the chance to explore their kagunes, managing to develop them

• Almost every Brazilian has a relative who is a mestizo or ghoul

• Ghouls are common in Brazil, they are part of Brazilian blood, however, like any minority, many of them still suffer from prejudice and stigma

Well, that's the general picture of how ghouls developed in Brazil, there are probably errors and inconsistencies, but I'm refraining

I'm going to do more parts, because I had more fun with it than I imagined, so here are some themes that were still covered in Brazilian ghouls ✨

Creation of preventive vaccine for ROS

Mestizos, kagunes and Brazilian categorization

Regional ghouls

Ghoul Inclusion Programs and Laws

+ Violent and marginalized ghouls, illegal meat consumption, Brazilian ghoul elite

Probably some shit, because we Brazilians are very good at doing funny things