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#dick:… it’s.. a… temporary set-back!
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The ring was small and silver with a single emerald embedded in the metal.
It wasn’t something flashy, it probably cost less than the smallest gem from his vault all together.
But it was perfect.
Which made it so heartbreaking to turn it down.
“Dick.. you know me so well.. I wish I could take this ring, i really do.”
Dick was still on one knee in the little apartment, but he put the small box down on the floor as he asked.
“Then what’s stopping you?”
Danny let out a bitter chuckle,
“The US government.”
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roobylavender · 9 months
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(Really long ask ahead i’m sorry!) I think your thoughts on dick and his similarities vs differences to bruce are so interesting! Personally i’m wondering how much of NTT played an influence on this kind of characterization bc i’ve never fully finished ntt but i read like nearly all the pre-80s batman 1940 issues lol and dick very much was portrayed as more idealistic than bruce in some ways while more no-nonsense (? For lack of better word) in other ways, like when it comes to batman easing up a little on selina for romance reasons LOL. Though ofc dick totally turns into - well, a dick - in team books, as i grow older i find myself far more compelled by a potential story of an 18 yr old who seemed to have the whole weight of the world on his shoulders (by his own perception) and breaking under his own impractically strong sense of duty and sky-high expectations for others, then realizing as he grows older that it doesn’t have to be that way esp after seeing the perspectives of characters like kory, wally, joey, roy, etc. Like personally as someone who never really had a huge interest in NTT anyway, i’m surprised at how desperately people want to hold on to the characterization of dick when he was 18-19 and never letting him grow past that, like it’s so difficult for me to believe that at age 25 he would be the same uptight controlling kid that he was at 19. Maybe i’m biased though bc i was like one of those insufferable INTJ internet stereotypes as a teenager, and while that worldview did bring me achievements i’m proud of like the fact that i’m in med school rn studying what i love, i still know that at age 22 i have changed SO much from when i was 18 and i can’t imagine any reasonably mature or normally-functioning person (let alone someone high-functioning like dick) not doing the same lol. Especially since dick is the kind of person who would literally die if he’s not constantly growing and evolving past his faults bc of his insufferable perfectionism, idk how he’d be willfully blind to the negative effects of his worldview in early NTT and refuse to grow from there. He even has a quote that’s like “i’ve spent years as a student of my own behavior” which i always found highly encouraging bc i know he really does want to improve himself even at his worst. It reminds me of that Marcus Aurelius quote: “if someone can prove me wrong and show me my mistake in any thought or action, i shall gladly change. I seek the truth, which never harmed anyone; the harm is to persist in one’s own self-deception and ignorance.” But what are your thoughts? (Thank you for reading all this 🥹)
oh i absolutely agree! i cannot tell you how many times i think about the person i was a couple years ago and who i am now like i cringe so much omg.. maturity is an ever persistent process even if we don't recognize its effects immediately and it absolutely is crazy to think that anyone would remain in such a static state of mind for several years on end. esp when like you said dick is someone who wants to be better! so despite his several hypocrisies it is nonetheless in his best interests to look internally and analyze and evolve. and i feel like that very much could have happened had there been any actual segue between dick's breakup with kory and his re-entry into the batfam. i don't think there was much of a connection between these two sets of writers at all and so what you got is what felt like two very distinct parts of dick's life that didn't necessarily reveal a bridge point. so it's not entirely unrealistic that dick may grow to be the person (at least to some extent) that bat canon portrayed him to be in the years that followed but i certainly think as it stands it felt unearned and like all of his issues explored in ntt were conveniently swept to the side without any semblance of closure (albeit i do think some of these issues are addressed in outsiders '03 but in that dickheaded way that winick explores things generally. so i'm not sure it's the kind of closure people actually want). it's very sad and ig that's what people cling to more than anything. it's not that they're opposed to him growing to be a better person but that they're opposed to a version of dick who feels like he sprung out of nothing
#ironically enough i Do think dick going back to gotham after the kory breakup made sense#like when something that big happens in your life what are you going to do. seek the advice of the one person you look up to more than anyt#ing right. but marv wolfman complicated things by writing bruce the way he did so rather than bruce playing an active part#in guiding dick through some of his issues and mistakes he instead became dick's burden to bear through extensive post knightfall trauma#and i mean you all know i Love knightfall. i really do it gives me brainworms upon brainworms#but i wish there had been just one moment. like after it was all over. that bruce and dick actually got to talk and like#discuss dick's problems yknow#i get the feeling they didn't delve much when writing prodigal bc they had to set up the next arcs and stuff but it's like#come on. come on. they could've afforded it. if dick really had to come back to gotham for a temporary stint where he tried to find himself#than a proper conversation with bruce about what he was going through should have been a part of that#bc i do think working with bruce's new cavalry of three teen heroes (tim / steph / cass) would have borne wonderful opportunities#for dick to grow as a leader and peer considering his ridiculous expectations of others and how this would measure up against teenagers#but the problem is that bat canon decided he was going to magically gel with everyone bc he was emotionally more well adjusted than bruce#was. like ok. ok. whateverrrrrrrr#like idk it's so funny they were given a dick with a plethora of issues and instead of using any of that ammo they were like nah#we're going to make our lives harder and give him new problems manifested out of thin air. totally makes sense. bullseye#outbox
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nerdpoe · 5 months
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Dick swore he'd never go undercover again, but Bruce actually does have a concerning thing that requires a trained spy to look into.
There's a shadow agency of the government that goes by the Ghost Investigation Ward, and they need info.
These guys have deleted practically all traces of themselves, and cannot be found unless they wish to be.
Or unless a group of stubborn teenagers armed with TikTok manage to leave the media blackout zone and post some truly concerning cries for help.
So Dick goes in, takes down a low rank agent, takes his place, and manages to infiltrate their temporary HQ set up in Amity Park.
He finds two majorly concerning things.
One, this is backed by Lex Luthor, and two, there's a teenager locked away in the basement of the base, chained to the walls and drugged up to his eyeballs.
He knows he's just supposed to be there for info.
He leaves with the info and also a groggy, injured teen.
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whowantshota · 3 months
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DADDY'S HOME —— kim mingyu
in which your husband comes home late on valentines. but it's okay, he has his ways of making it up to you.
warnings ☆ MATURE CONTENT AHEAD. smut, husband!mingyu, somno, gyu is pussy whipped, kim mingyu x afab!reader
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i get off work late today :/ 
c u ltr, ok?
You frown at the texts, irritability rubbing your thumb against your temples. 
This is not the first time your husband has texted you that he’d be late from work, oh of course not. You understand—-sometimes, his schedule is tight and that makes work the temporary number one priority. You obviously mean more to Mingyu than his paycheck.
Or so you thought. You groan, flopping back onto the couch miserably. Mingyu has come late at night at least twice a week for the past month now, so it should be a normal occurrence. At least, if tonight wasn’t Valentine's.
Yes, today was the commercial holiday that pisses about off half the world. And funnily enough, Mingyu had only sworn to you three major things in his life. One, good dick. Two loving you. And three, that he’d never miss Valentine's day. 
While the last one was mostly a long inside joke from before you got married, you’re still glancing worriedly at the clock. 9:30 and you’re still holed up alone in your apartment, a box of chocolates with his name on it set on top of the kitchen table. 
Mingyu hadn’t promised you a dinner date at a restaurant tonight —you both knew that wouldn't fit with his schedule. But he had promised to cook you something romantic, pour you a glass of wine, and then fuck you till you see stars. 
And being very honest, you think you would’ve loved that much more than a night out. Loved it so much, by the way you’re sneaking your hand into your panties. Pushing one, two fingers in; but it's never good enough—it'll never be Mingyu. 
So you quit early, stand up because you're tired of waiting around. He’ll be home tomorrow. You can wash up now, clean up and see him later. It’ll be fine. You can celebrate then, right?
★ . *- .
Mingyu didn’t think he’d be making up Valentines like this. When he thought about it on the way home, he had pictured at dinner out at your favorite restaurant, or flowers and an even bigger gift basket than the ones he had already bought for you. 
But, you didn’t hear the crack of the door, or the creek of the apartment floors when he walked in. You didn’t even hear when the loud thunk! when his work bag hit the floor. Or when he sets down the heart shaped pendant Joshua had picked out on top of a pink gift basket he had planned to give you much earlier.
He realized then, that you would not be waking up for a while. You were tired, basically passed out. He does feel bad for making you wait so long, but shit, he swears his cock never throbbed as hard as it did when he caught the sight of your sleeping figure curled up in bed. Only in a small tee and new pair of panties he got you a couple of weeks ago. Fuck, you look perfect.
So he went, took a shower and got dressed before laying next to you in bed. You murmur something when his arm wraps around you, snuggling into him. But you don’t wake up.
“Pretty,” he mumbles, slowly running his thumb over the skin of your cheek. He pokes you a couple of times with a finger. You look so cute—eyes shut with your mouth partially open. You might’ve been drooling even. 
His hand dips down to your torso, rests on your hip. He was nearly starting to fall asleep too, blinking in a poor attempt to keep himself up too. And right then, you just had to shuffle, pushing back against him. A small noise slips past his lips when the curve of your ass pressed against his clothed, semi-hard cock.
Poor Gyu, stuck in bed while you’re sound asleep. How’s he supposed to take care of that? He feels his cock twitch again, grip on your hip tightening just barely.
It wouldn’t be a problem if he just helped himself, right? Inhaling, his hand moves a bit further, hooking around the bottom of your panties. He prods against the warmth of your entrance pushing a finger in.
Fuck, you’re so wet. He can hear the sound of your slick when he presses another finger inside. It’s almost as if your cunt is begging for him to fuck you. And it’s only right that what his lovely wife and her pretty cunt wants, they get. 
Mingyu pulls his fingers out, sucks on it. Moving slowly, he climbs until he’s hovering over your still figure. There’s a tight feeling in his core, dick hard as pulls the crotch of your panties to the side. He pulls the waistband of his sweats down, groaning when cold air hits his cock. He spreads your legs a little wider, teases himself against your pussy.
Mingyu sees Heaven when the tip slips past your entrance. Swears he could cum on the spot. You’re so warm, so soft. It’s not his fault, you’re the one who lured him into this trap.
He can do a little more than the tip. You haven’t moved yet, still partially twisted one way with your legs spread wide for him. You were just made to take his cock, weren’t you?
He should have been making up Valentines with a picnic date in the park. Should have been thinking about what he’ll cook you for breakfast tomorrow morning, if he’ll deliver it to you with a card and a rose.
Instead, he’s got you trapped under him on the mattress, seemingly so passive and docile as you sleep, not conscious of the fact that he’s got you stuffed with his fat cock. He wonders if you’re dreaming about it now. You’re not necessarily a deep sleeper, so he’s surprised you don’t wake up when he bottoms out.
He doesn’t know what to say, can’t even speak. You feel so good, too good. Cunt wrapped around him, clenching. He’d kiss you if you were awake right now, but you’re not so he’ll settle with what he has. He fucks a soft thrust into you, watching for your reaction. Your breath catches, but you don’t do more than that.
“Perfect. You’re just perfect, baby.” He groans, pulling out until the tip before he forces himself back in. You let out a moan, arching so slightly. Mingyu thumbs your nipple through your shirt, speeding up the pace of his strokes.
He dips his head to press a kiss to your sternum, lips skimming and peppering kisses along your collarbone next. 
You twist just barely under his hold, eyes fluttering open. You’re still coming to, blurry eyes barely making out the sight of Mingyu’s body caging over you. Whining, you bite your down on your lip when you feel the stupidly fat cock slowly fucking into your cunt.
“Hey baby,” Mingyu murmurs, now kissing the side of your neck. Your whimpers get louder, and you move one arm and snake your it over his shoulder. He groans when you clench on him, sucking harder on your skin. “Don’t worry baby, daddy’s home.”
Tiredly, you rub your eyes with your free hand. There’s pleasure building in your stomach rapidly, and you start to force yourself to sink deeper onto his cock. “Gyu– daddy, please.” You cry, fucking back on him. 
You hear him hum in response, but you can’t answer. Not when he’s picking up the pace of his strokes, pushing hard, deep thrusts into your tight cunt. “Yeah baby? Come on, tell daddy what you need.” He teases, pushing your legs back before moving to grope your ass cheeks with his big hands.
Now that you’re awake, Mingyu tightens his grip, fucking into you harder. “Need Daddy to help you cum, hm?” He says, voice playful. As if he wasn’t the one whimpering and fucking himself into your pussy moments ago. 
“Couldn’t help it, you looked so good.” He murmurs. His hips are starting to buck into your sloppily, You mewl, nodding. Pretty sure you might even be drooling but you couldn’t give a fuck. Everything feels too good, and you’ve got no idea what’s going on. Mingyu says something you can’t hear, kisses along your jawline before he presses his lips to yours.
You can barely make out the “Happy Valentines.” he whispers, cumming too hard. Your cunt clenching around his dick, mouth falling open. He wants to spit in it, call you a slut, but he can’t when he feels you pulse around his cock. 
Gyu’s eyes roll back, and he lets out a low hiss, warm cum filling up your cunt. His body flops over yours, sweaty chest pressing to the front of your shirt. You run a hand through his hair, kiss his nape softly. “Someones late,” you joke, voice breathy.
“I know. ‘M sorry.” he says, moving down so that his head lies on your chest. He loves the feeling of you tugging on his hair slightly, ruffling his hair.
He looks up suddenly, disheveled but handsome as ever. “I’ll make it up. Wine and spa?” 
You laugh, seeing the way he pouts. He looks like a giant puppy, cuddled up into you. You love it, love it so much you’re not even remotely bothered by the mess on cum or the fact that he still hasn’t pulled out. Pushing his hair back with a hand, you kiss him on the forehead once more. “Sure. Happy Valentines.”
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didn't realize that even tho it's still valentines in my country, it's late in other places :( happy valentines! not beta read
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knightonio · 8 months
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SIMON RILEY ── YOU GET ME SO HIGH
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🕸️·˚ ༘ warnings. top male reader. bottom simon. high typa shit. flashbacks. smoking. mentioned drinking. public sex. cockwarming. breathplay.
ִ ࣪𖤐 ࣪ by the end of it all, the smoke you exhale transforms into a kiss. ◞
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the exact date when it began is something you’re unsure of.
he, lieutenant simon riley, simply walked into your room without a knock. no words were exchanged, not that they were really needed. your mouth opened, agape. a “what?” is what you want to utter, but his lips catches your own.
simon riley groans when he feels you return the kiss. the faint taste of malt liquor on your tongue has him pushing you back, onto your bed, as he straddles your lap. you remember that he asks,
“do you want this?”
his voice was breathless. heavy pants meeting your neck.
and you do. you agree, the next moments a blur. he lowers himself on your cock when he’s ready. he already was before he barged in.
strangely, something blooms. a progression you won’t know where it’ll lead. nothing worrying, nothing out-of-place. at least on the outside, it won’t attract that much attention. yours was focused on the feeling of simon’s hole stretching to accommodate to your size. it was stupid.
no, really. it was late at night, but that didn’t mean no one would wander around these hours. you were in the hallway, supposedly on the way to your room when simon couldn’t take the wait anymore. there’s not much plot to this story. fuck then leave. that was it. you hated that, and you were projecting your one-sided feelings onto his prostate.
“ah, ah, ah. fu—fuuck. shit- ggah! mhng... wait—”
your hand clasped his neck and he gasps. alarms blared in your head, you shouldn’t do this. this was territory you haven’t spoken or even thought of.
guilty, you wanted to whisper an apology. thrusts shifting into slow grinds, handing him a way out. but he only leaned into your palm, the coldness, near emptiness, emanating from your glove contrasting to the warmth of his shrouded flesh. “don’t... don’t stop.” he breathes, like there’s no more oxygen in his lungs.
exhale.
that’s what you did.
you puff out the smoke you inhaled from the cigarette that was in between your index and middle fingers. the dirty air landed on his half-masked face. his cheek went to rest on your shoulder, hips lazily lifting themselves up and back down. you lead the cigar to his mouth. sharing something like this, in this situation, with this person, was beyond unbelievable.
fuck, what even happened?
the events that were replaying in your head moments ago were quickly fading. you’re too tired. too unfocused. you hear him call your name. then another time. then another. he gently pats your face. “look at me,” your eyes dart downwards to him. “what’s going on in that head of yours?” he says as he brings himself back down on your cock.
“nothin’... s’ just—” he clenches around you when he feels the tip of your dick graze his sweet spot.
simon hums like he’s done an achievement. maybe he did, earning a whine from you. in some way, the weight of both of your chests were lighter. passing on the cigarette to one another, it was a repeating process. taking turns and the pace he set doesn’t change.
you think you’re losing the logical part of your brain. your thoughts are jumbled and gibberish. the temporary pleasure couldn’t outweigh the actual one you were experiencing now. your fingers find themselves attached to his neck, flexing as they try not to tighten their hold too much.
the last puff was yours. without thinking, you press the butt of the cigarette on his thigh to put it out.
he hisses, but the dizziness in you can’t find the moment to care. matter of fact, he enjoys it.
you don’t miss the way his thighs trembled, not missing the way he rocked against you hard. his cock throbbed and you show mercy. your free hand finds his length, causing him to see stars. he curses, lowly. “oh, shit, ‘m c-close.”
the lieutenant finds himself stuttering, losing his voice. how couldn’t he? you were hitting all of the right spots inside of him. both of your hands were on him, one working him up further to his release while the other bruised his neck. it was like you were claiming him but no one would know. they can’t find out unless you tell them or they’d catch a glimpse of his skin.
the combination of pain and pleasure was too good. his head was clouded, and so was yours. maybe he was at peace for once, all warm and tight around you. maybe, by the end of it all, the smoke you exhale transforms into a kiss from him.
and maybe, just maybe, you’re right.
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𓍢‧₊🕷️ ࣪˖ knight’s phoning. wanna be apart of my taglist? fill out this form so you can be immediately notified for future fics. masterlist
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improbable-outset · 4 months
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📄 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐂𝐨𝐝𝐞:
𝐒𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎’𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐇𝐂…
Hey it’s 1am here in the UK and I don’t have a valentine themed fic. So have this set of HC of my AU series that I’ve been working on instead. There is a mix of wholesome and spicy HC. I’m too lazy to put it in an undercut so minors DNI 🔞
𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 || 𝐒𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
Scientist Husband!Miguel that will rant about his day in the lab to you. You love hearing him vent to you if he had a terrible day or ramble about an exciting discovery he had made.
Scientist Husband!Miguel that will come home to you from a hard works day in the lab. He likes to rest his head between your thighs while his wife massages his scalp. He melts completely under your tender touch. Your fingers are very soft and soothing.
Scientist Husband!Miguel that will receive small love notes or doodles that are packed with his lunch from his wife. Sometimes even spicy messages if you’re feeling risky. They tend to end with him coming back home and fucking you on the nearest surface. Most likely the couch or kitchen counter top.
Scientist Husband!Miguel that will receive a personalised lab coat with his name on it from you, either as a birthday gift or an anniversary present. He now wears it in the lab everyday since.
Scientist Husband!Miguel that will involve you when he’s designing gadgets and weapons to be used by the Spider Society. He values your input when brainstorming the prototypes.
Scientist Husband!Miguel that will have a personal gym right next to his lab where he would work out and train to maintain his strength and combat skills. This includes a high-tech simulation drill that replicate various combat scenarios to aid and enhance his quick thinking and problem solving abilities.
Scientist Husband!Miguel that will have his wife watch him work out from the sidelines. You would admire the determination etched on his face. Maybe even steal a quick kiss in between sets. Sometimes you would sit on the rooftops while Miguel would do his usual web slinging endurance, navigating the city skyline from building to building as part of his training.
Scientist Husband!Miguel that will fuck you good when he knows he won’t be home for a few days because of a mission in another dimension. He’ll make sure he reaches every crevice deep inside you. You’ll feel a dull ache from the way he stretched out your walls— a reminder of that passionate night and of your husband’s temporary absence. He doesn’t like using toys, he’d rather use his hands and dick do all the work.
Scientist Husband!Miguel that loves to kiss you all over and talk about the function of each part of your body while praising you and telling you how perfect your are. He loves teasing your erogenous areas to increase your serotonin levels and see how much you would fall apart under his touch.
Scientist Husband!Miguel that will receive a blow job from you as he tries to explain the make reproductive system OR while he talks about his day at work to you. He’s lucky to have you help him with his pent up stress.
Scientist Husband!Miguel that probably keeps a track of your period. For research, of course. After you got off your birth control pills, it’s his responsibility to track when your fertility window takes place so he can breed you at the right time.
Scientist Husband!Miguel that is over the moon when you both find out that you are finally pregnant. Of course he would admire the changes of your body while you’re growing his child. He will eagerly share insight about the embryonic development and the hormonal changes, deepening the intimate connection you both already share.
Scientist Husband!Miguel that will admire the changes of your body and will develop a serious lactation kink. He’ll feed from your breast from time to time…for science obviously. He’s just increasing your oxytocin levels so you can produce more milk for your baby daughter. Duh.
Scientist Husband!Miguel that will help his daughter with her schoolwork. I know he will probably put extra effort when it comes to her school science project and will probably be more committed to it than her. He just wants what’s best for her.
Mood board
𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: @thealleydog @ultravioletrayz @club-danger-zone @lazyjellyfish300 @miguelbaby @miguels-aranita (lmk if you want to be tagged for this au idea)
- Ayrus <3
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charmercharm3r · 10 months
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Make Love, Not Porn
Play Time!
HHJ
Masterlist, Series Masterlist
18+ content — minors, do not interact.
wc: 3.8k
Synopsis: You crave a life of normalcy, he craves you. And he'd do anything to keep you, even if you're for the world to see.
warnings: barista!hyunjin x cam girl!reader, smut, explicit sexual content, masturbation (m, f), he's a little obsessed, easing into the smuttier smut if that's even a thing.
Live : Play Time!
Next Scheduled Broadcast : Heat Signature
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☆゚
Rule number one; everybody is temporary.
There is no love in this industry, no trust, no friends, only coworkers that all want the same thing. Sometimes you work with them more than once, other times– most times, it’s a one-and-done deal.
They never want to stay anyways, you learned that lesson the hard way. It’s why you set up such a tough wall to break through, there’s no point in befriending anyone on your side of the pond.
It’s scary, really, how quickly you can be moaning someone’s name, kissing them like you need them to breathe, touching and feeling them as intimately as someone who truly was in love. Then as soon as the livestream ends, you can’t remember what their lips feel like and everything smells like latex and sweat. You offer them some water, snacks, a shower. They usually decline. Minutes later, your front door is shutting and you’re alone once again.
No one ever intends on getting into porn, you don’t even remember the details on how you ended up here. Your follower count had risen overnight and before you knew it, that one video had gotten you more money in a week than a month’s worth of minimum wage ever did. The humiliation was nonexistent considering you hadn’t even posted yourself naked that first time, if anything you were excited to post again. Who knew a video of you just sitting in a chair, playing with yourself under your skirt with your knees pressed closed would take off so rapidly. That thirty second video changed your life.
– fuck, who is this?? are they new??
– thats so hot. face reveal?
– show us your tits
– god i wanna fuck u so bad
– suck my dick pls
Those comments didn’t bother you, it was a little flattering if you were being honest with yourself. People wanted you, they don’t even know your real name, have never seen your face or what you look like in the sunlight. They don’t know you and yet, you’re everything to them, so much so that they pay you for your time, and body. They fill your wallet just for you to read their comment out loud, attention whores for you. And you love it. For some reason, their praise is much more fulfilling than anyone you've guested on your livestreams.
Recently, though, you’ve stopped bringing people on, not much to your viewer’s disapproval. There was more interaction and less vulgarity, like they wanted you to actually speak to them rather than just stuff your pussy with whatever new dildo you’d been gifted in your PO box.
You hadn’t planned on having such a personal stream today, you honestly just wanted the relief and thought your viewers would have a good time. But for some reason, the comments were less about getting you to take your clothes off and more about why your voice was shaking.
“It’s okay, I’m okay. Really!” Even you could hear the subtle octave change. “If you wanted me to cry, you could’ve just said please. You know I’ll do anything for you.” 
Perhaps the forced sultriness of your voice worked its charm, the comments quickly switched back to their normal obscenities once you started to unbutton your top. Truthfully, you preferred when they asked you to get naked, it was a lot easier to do than to admit what it was you were really lacking. Honest companionship is the rarest thing.
Rule number two: no identifying features.
Even if you weren’t ashamed, your job is still taboo. No one and everyone knew what it was you did. Your best friend helped you pick lingerie and background mood lighting, your parents thought you were an office worker. Strangers have seen your most private parts, you only allow your grandma to give you a kiss on the cheek during Christmas. Safe to say your occupation was strictly need-to-know.
You’re glad you started live streaming before deciding to get any tattoos, running the risk of someone stopping you in the middle of the street was the most terrifying thing you could imagine happening. Naturally, you avoided getting anything at all once your streams started to really take off.
There was nothing you wore to accessorize unless a patron paid for it in advance, that was always done a week before streams and the contact with the patron was never more than a simple google form and an email from your business account to confirm. Other than that, you were a blank canvas, just a body with a voice that left more to the imagination than you would think. If your viewers were happy, you were happy.
“What do you think of my new nail color? A special someone picked it out for me,” you held out your hands to display the pretty shine, twiddling your fingers. The comments went crazy, “no, no, not anyone like that, c’mon! You know you’re my number one. But I think you should all give lovely user callingherdaddy a thank you for picking it out. Thank you, sir.”
You took the polish off the next morning.
Rule number three: be consistent.
Nothing kills a steady income more than ghosting the ones that put the money in your pocket. You stuck to a strict schedule of three streams every week and frequent posts on your socials. The stuff you posted on your social media wasn’t even related to your work on camming, but it doesn’t hurt when they leave a couple nice comments. 
With a schedule and job like yours, you need a little bit of normalcy. Self employed, you don’t have a real routine when you aren’t streaming. It was starting to make you feel lazy, a bit lethargic, and overall unmotivated.
It wasn’t until recently did you decide to start doing normal people things, like waking up at 7 a.m., doing a mini work out, grocery shopping in the morning, even getting yourself a coffee from the shop near your house as a treat. Doing this was nice, you felt good, your head was clearer. Hell, you even got excited when it came time to do your cams because you felt so full of energy.
You had only been to the coffee shop once or twice before, but to get yourself to keep the routine, you told yourself you’d go every day for the next two weeks. Afterall, it only takes 21 days to form a habit.
It was packed, as usual for a morning weekday. There were only about six baristas working, all scurrying about the bar to get through the morning rush. You liked watching them, mindlessly completing drinks in such a way that made you a little jealous. Most of them seemed your age, obviously you knew that they couldn’t have all had perfect lives, but at least this part of their day was something they could openly complain about.
Were you really jealous? Of normal people? You had to be insane.
Shaking your head, you walked further into the shop and waited in line. You thought nothing of it, placing your order, “iced chai with three blonde shots, please,” and handed the barista the card, “thank you.”
You barely looked up at him, only when he held onto your card a little longer as you tried to take it back did you make eye contact. A little awkward, the barista was staring at you with wide eyes. He was handsome, too handsome to be working behind the counter. Long black hair framed his face nicely, pretty plump lips, and an endearing little mole under his eye that made his siren stare only slightly less intimidating. Yeah, handsome.
He didn’t look away even after he let you take your card back.
“S– sorry. You look like–”
“It’s okay. Thanks again.” You hurried away as fast as you could. He couldn’t have known who you were, right? Not a chance, you have never shown your face. You were wearing too many clothes for any particular body part to be recognizable. It’s just a coincidence.
Either way, the minor interaction with the barista scared you into hiding again, forgetting going out for anything else you had planned and deciding to hole away at home.
You had a livestream to do later anyways, focus on that. There were a few hours left for you to kill before turning on the camera, now would be as good a time as any to set up.
It wasn’t much that you did, mostly just thinking of what it was you thought viewers would like to see for the day. An hour before the scheduled stream, you set up a waiting room on the website that hinted at what the day’s theme would be. Today you thought you’d go a little easy on the eyes; “live soon, hardcandysweetheart: play time! <3”
A typical stream would start off soft, greeting viewers like any other meeting. You’d ask how their day was, if there was anything in particular they wanted to do or talk about, some answered genuinely while others urged you to strip. You liked the ones that asked you how your day was, too, and enjoyed sharing your thoughts with them. Though, it was no secret what everyone was here for, even if sometimes– just sometimes, you liked what came before taking off your clothes more than anything.
“I have a few things in mind for play time today, I’d like to hear what you guys think. Would you prefer this,” in your hand, you held up your favorite vibrator, big and baby pink. “Or this?” in the other, a new grinder that resembled the shape of a tentacle with the sucker-side up.
Comment section didn’t slow down as soon as you showed the second toy. “I thought you might like this one. I got it just for you! I’m excited to try it out with you.”
– im so fucking hard
– i wanna see ur pussy
– thats so nice, ur sweet
“Slow down! Haha, we’re gonna take our time,” you laughed away the weird feeling in your chest as you read the fleeing comments. “You’re so impatient today, lovely. Did you have a hard day? I know I did,” you slowly peeled down the blouse you wore, letting it hang off your shoulders to expose your bare shoulders. It seemed redundant to wear a bra, but you kept the shirt covering your breasts for dramatic effect, hard nipples peaking through.
“I just wanna take it a little more… gentler, if that’s alright.” The camera was angled to cut off at your neck to avoid showing your face, but you bit your lip anyways as you held up the grinder. “It’s a little out of my comfort zone, honestly. I’ve never told you about this fantasy before.” You ran your finger down the rubber center, feeling the many little suction cups bend.
You giggled as you came to the swirled tip of the tentacle, playing with the way it curled and how pliable it was. “When I ordered this, they let me choose the color. I think pink suits me, don’t you? But I also thought, maybe blue? Or black… but then it would be too hard for you to see, right?”
As you spoke, you laid the grinder between your legs but not quite touching it. With two fingers, you stroked it the same way you would your own pussy. Your other free hand was doing just that right behind the toy and beneath the length of your shirt, feeling your wetness building up with your hand down your panties. “Oh my, just talking to you– my underwear is soaked!” The giggle that left your lips was genuine, you didn’t expect to work yourself up so quickly.
You stole your fingers from your cunt and showed it to the camera, spreading them to let your viewers see the slick coating shine in the soft lighting. “Heh, told ya I was excited. You make me like this.”
When you started to really get going it was hard to pay attention to the comments, you tended to get a little lost until you finally came. Like now, you brought the toy closer to your core, lightly lifting yourself to sit on it. As soon as you did, you let out a whimper.
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Hyunjin had never felt so embarrassed in his life. He doesn’t even know why, he couldn’t have been sure of anything.
Except he was. He was 100% sure, plus another 10% for good measure. He hadn’t even known about the site for long, you were just his favorite. He’d found hardcandysweetheart and never bothered to look anywhere else.
You were just another customer at first, a pretty one that caught his attention. He noticed you in line and had every intention of flirting and possibly asking for you to sign up for the rewards program with them just so he could use that as an excuse to get your number. Then you spoke.
All you fucking did was speak. “Please,” and “thank you,” and Hyunjin fucking crumbled.
Jesus, he must have looked like an idiot. He knows he did, but he was star struck. Fanboying, red in the face with embarrassment, about to fold at the knees, and hard as a fucking rock all at the same time. He had to excuse himself to the restroom as soon as you left just to get his boner to go away.
If it really was you– and he hoped to god it wasn’t– he’ll never forget such a pretty face.
Which is why he turned on notifications for your stream. He knew your schedule by heart but he needed to be sure that it was your voice he heard. As soon as he got home from his shift, clothes came off and he was sat in bed with his laptop nearby, just waiting for the ping notification from you.
God, it was you. As soon as he heard you through his headphones, it confirmed what he already knew.
What a kind voice, supple, soft, he could listen to you for hours– he has listened to you for hours. Sometimes he wished you could do live streams of just you talking, you never even had to take your clothes off. Now that he knew what you looked like, Hyunjin’s heartbeat faster than it ever did when you made conversation.
It was the way you did, as though you were speaking to him and only him. The image he created of you in his head looked like it was thought up by a child in comparison to seeing you in real life. He could put a face to the voice now, he wasn’t even thinking about your body. Just your voice.
“You make me like this,” you said in almost a whisper, tone cracking just a little the more you sat on the toy.
Hyunjin couldn’t help but palm at himself, not entirely stroking but moving at the same pace. This was a team effort, in his mind. You made him crazy, as he did to you. That was his fantasy. You always spoke with so much love in your voice, as though you truly cared for him and it got him harder than any other kind of porn ever could.
Was that really all it took? Was he that pathetic? Someone who didn’t even know who he was, talking to an ocean of people that all saw the same thing he did, and suddenly it’s the only thing that can make him cum.
He can’t even complain now, he’s seen you. That’s enough spank bank to last him a lifetime if you ever suddenly decided to stop camming. Shit– he hopes he didn’t just manifest that into existence.
The white button up top draped in front of your cunt to hide away from view. That’s alright, you said you were taking it slow today. Your hips slowly pushed forward and back, hands gripping tightly at the armrests of your uncomfortable looking desk chair. Hyunjin thought it was kind of cute how you would still cam in the same seat as you did when he found your first video. 
His laptop on his abdomen concealed the view of his cock leaking, but the way you were sat on screen, he could envision it was him you were sitting on instead. That’s exactly what he imagined as you rocked faster into the toy, lifting your shirt and balling it in your fist to show that your wetness had spread to the front of your panties. Hyunjin didn’t even mind that the bold pink tentacle blocking a bit of the view, you were getting so into it that he hardly noticed anymore.
Hyunjin fumbled to find his dick, slowly beginning to squeeze the head as you turned to shorter and quicker ruts towards the front of the toy where the tentacle curled up. You moaned loudly, making him do so as well in return. “Fuck, I ruined this pair, didn’t I?”
Your cute laugh had Hyunjin breaking out into a smirk, “that’s okay,” he whispered to no one but himself.
“I should take it off but,” you rolled your hips again with a whine, “I kinda want you to work for it.”
The tips in the corner of the page were pinging like crazy as soon as you said that. He himself tapped the button rapidly and paid no mind to how his account balance shot down.
“C’mon now, don’t be shy. It’s just one little word that I wanna hear. I’ll say it first, if that makes you feel better.” The speed of your hips picked up a little, in turn Hyunjin let his fist slowly work up and down, no faster than you, of course.
“Please. Please, is the word I’m looking for, lovely. Say it, just once.”
Fuck, he couldn’t help speeding up just a little. He loved the way you said it, even more the way you commanded him to say it as well. “Please,” the whimper came out breathy and uneven as the precum lubricated his cock more.
“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Hyunjin shook his head, no. 
“No, it wasn’t. Look what happens when you ask nicely,” you stood from your seat just to pull off the flimsy fabric, sitting fully back down on the toy and holding up the soaked pair with another chuckle. “You get nice things.”
Hyunjin could hear how wet you really were now, every lewd sound that came from you rubbing yourself back and forth on the grinder. You still didn’t let him– them– see you fully. He wasn’t even sure if you’d expose yourself at all this stream. Still, his fist picked up speed as you did, taking in every grunt you let out when you’d hit a particularly good spot. Hyunjin kept his eyes on you the whole time, memorizing the way you moved, what angle made you tick.
“C’mon lovely, I know you can do better than that.”
You were referring to the tip counter, but Hyunjin took it as he can do better than that. His other hand reached around the laptop, down to cup his balls as he worked his cock faster, occasionally running his fingers over the head for a break in stimulation. Somehow he managed to stop touching himself for a split second to rapid fire extra tips when they slowed down.
“Oh, someone wants a little extra attention today. What do I call you, lovely?” Hyunjin wasn’t sure if you were speaking to him, though he hoped and typed a nickname anyways. “Baby? That’s cute. Thank you, baby, you’re so sweet.”
His hand instantly returned to his dick, not caring about the speed anymore, instead wanting to cum to the sound of your voice. He quickly tapped the tip button a few more times and you giggled, “baby, you’re spoiling me. Here, since you’re being so nice,” you lifted the hem of your shirt to put your bare cunt on display, seemingly tucking the end of it into your mouth.
Hyunjin could see it so clearly, your pretty lips drooling onto the fabric, biting it to contain the moans that wanted to slip past. Fuck, he was going insane, wet, slick noises from his animalistic fisting on his cock almost surpassing the volume of your voice in his headphones. 
He just watched now, listened intently to how good you were making yourself feel and it made his body light a fire. You were clearly getting closer as well, forgetting the dirty talk and humping away at the toy with little to no regard for who was watching. Hyunjin loved this side of you the most, when you couldn’t think of anything other than the impending pleasure. He could imagine your eyes rolling back, the furrow in your brow and beads of sweat dripping down your temples as you came nearer to falling over the edge. Your hands moved to grip the edge of the seat, aiding in pushing your body forward and back harder against the grinder and Hyunjin was jerking himself with a hotter fervor. Your muffled cries echoed in his head– he was making you feel like this, he was the one you were using to please yourself, he was the one you thought of as you came all over his cock.
Hyunjin suddenly held his breath and let his release take over his body, squeezing and pumping the tip of his cock as he spurt his seed all over his stomach and back of his computer. By the time he’d come to, opened his eyes, and regained his breath, you were slumped back in your chair and panting heavily. He missed your grand finale, but that was okay with him, you came at the same time. Even in post nut clarity, he wanted to hear your voice. More than that, he wanted to hold you, run his fingers through your hair, kiss you until you were breathless all over again.
Hyunjin’s shaky hand found the tip button again and tapped.
“Thank you, baby.” He smiled.
You groaned and found the strength to steal the toy from your aching cunt, holding it up for the camera to see it glistening with your essence. Laughing, “this was fun, wasn’t it? I enjoyed myself, I might have to buy more of these.” You tossed it onto the desk and suddenly seemed shy, tugging your shirt as far down as you could without exposing more skin. “Until next time, lovely. I’ll miss you.” You waved your dainty fingers at the camera, doing your signature sign off, and the screen went black.
Hyunjin’s head fell back into his pillows, staring at the ceiling trying to understand all the emotions he just rushed through. 
He couldn’t compute them even if he tried. All he knew was that he was excited to go to work tomorrow morning, hoping that whatever god heard his plea, begging that you’ll come in.
When he went to shut his laptop, his fingers smeared the warm mess that was slowly dripping. “Fuck— ew,” and he hurried to clean up, alone once again.
☆゚
tags: @sensitiveandhungry @babebatter @changbinluvr @epiphanynaffit @fawnpeaks @linovely @dumplinbokkieracha @finnydraws @naturules @djeniryuu @hamburgers101 @skzhomiehopper @yesv01 @hyunjinsamdl @dazzlingligth @alexis-reads-fics @linaliskz @0002linoskitten @chillichillicrabcrab23 @zerefdragn33l @straycrescent @binnies-donuts @soldierstangirl-blog @bakedlilgoonie @levanterlily @shelbyyy44 @yeetmehome @in2heartz @astroodledream @the-sweetest-rose @goblinracha @lilbugs-things @viviennenstan @staurdvst @alex--awesome--22 @imzenning @jeyelleohe @iadorethemskz @skyvastbunny @mamabymychem @katsukis1wife @woozarts @noellllslut
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oh-koenig-my-koenig · 3 months
Text
(cw: age gap 25/41, nsfw, mdni 18+, sloppy blow/handjob, one (or two) d-slaps, praise, könig is big (i think, that is canon by now), swallowing)
part before: breaking the bed
I ring the doorbell. My cat’s carrier in the one hand, Mimi meowing softly. A backpack in the other.
König opens the door and I look up at him and…
He’s wearing glasses.
Right there on his nose. Black framed glasses. My jaw drops as he smiles down at me, completely unaware.
“Hey.”, he greets me, leaning down and pressing a kiss to my cheek, while his hand shoots out to take the pet carrier from me.
“You have glasses?”, I ask incredulously, letting go of the handle.
The smile falls off his face. “Ah scheiße, I forgot to take them off.”, he mutters, turning away.
“Did you fucking hide them from me?”, I say, still trying to wrap my head around it.
"No, I just need them to read.”, he grumbles as I close the door behind me and follow him into the living room.
He sets Mimi's carrier down and opens the door to let her out, the little kitty traipsing out carefully, getting to explore the new surroundings while we get the rest of the stuff from my car. I didn’t pack that much because it’s only temporary, staying with him until we get the bed situation fixed. There's actually more for the little minx than for me. Her toilet, her cat food, the basket. And then the second box with my stuff that König carries up to the bedroom while I set her basket down next to the couch, and then go to sit down and watch her zoomies.
I laugh, when I see him coming down the stairs again, the glasses still on his nose. The giant with the tattooed arms, all dressed in black, a Death shirt on, the five o’clock shadow, the long hair that he pushed out of his face… and then those black rimmed square glasses. I laugh even more as he shoots me a glare, a deathly one.
He drops onto the couch right beside me, pulling me into him as he grumbles something grumpily in German. I kiss him, telling him that he looks even more attractive with the glasses on. "They are totally fine. So fine even.", I say, pressing another kiss to his cheek, his stubble scratching against the sensitive skin of my lips.
"Really?" He looks at me skeptically. With the glasses that just makes me want to give him another kiss. It's criminal how good he looks with them on.
"Yeah.", I answer truthfully, and I can’t help the little smile coming through. Has he really hidden them from me? Is that… a little hint of insecurity I am seeing behind the serious expression, the cocked eyebrow arching over the glasses?
"No ‘old man’-talk then, huh?", he comments, pointedly.
I laugh. "Maybe a little bit... They are giving you major dilf-vibes.", I say, biting back a giggle.
He furrows his brows, looking at me with a confused stare. "Dilf-vibes?", he echoes, and I explain it to him, of course, a bright mischievous grin plastered onto my face. The only part of the acronym that sticks is that I'd like to fuck him.
"Hm, really? Like right now?", he smirks at me, mischief sparking in his eyes, his large hand stroking up my back. The cocky expression on his face dissipates as I drop onto my knees on the floor, right in front of him, my hands quickly reaching for the waistband of his jeans.
I look up at him, a sultry smile stalking onto my lips, when I pop the button of his pants and lower the zipper. He groans when I take out his dick, his length hardening quickly, as my fingers wrap around him. He slides forward, shimmying his jeans down a bit and spreading his thighs, making room for me between them. I scoot closer, leaning over, and take his tip into my mouth. Sucking on it. Feeling him grow, while my eyes search his.
His head falls back, as I work him, breaking the eye contact, soft moans dropping from his lips. His hand moves up to take his glasses off, but I stop him.
I release him with a pop. “No, leave them on.”, I ask. “Please.”
“You really like them that much, hm?”, he asks, pulling up one eyebrow, but a smirky grin stalks onto his lips, and his hands drop down again, the right one digging into the cushions of the armrest.
“I do.”, I say, my expression mirroring his, as I move my hand up and down his length lazily, which makes him groan again, his hips rutting forward.
I’m getting cocky (no pun intended), just grab him at the base and slap his hard dick against my cheek. It even makes a little noise, so I do it again, this time a bit harder. His jaw drops a little, his eyes widening in surprise, before mischief sparks in them.
“I wanted to do that for quite some while.”, I whisper, still grinning up at him.
He laughs a little bit, the smile on his face smirky and lustful, while his gaze gets heated. “You're not even half as innocent as you look."
"What's that supposed to mean?", I ask him, gripping him tighter, moving my hand quicker now as I jerk him off.
"Oh, you know, Fräulein.", he just says, the last word turning into a moan when I squeeze the tip with my fingers.
Instead of an answer I lean forward again, my eyes not leaving his while I teasingly lick it before I close my lips around him. Slowly moving down his length. His breath hitches, a quiet treacherous sound, his eyes intently watching what I’m doing.
I try to take him deeper, letting the tip hit the back of my throat, and I can feel tears well in the corner of my eyes. I'm not stopping until they're running down my face, the wet drops slowly rolling down my cheeks. His hips jerk up, pushing his dick a little further still as I bop my head up and down his length, at least as far as I can take him. Not even fitting half of him, but that doesn’t deter him.
"Mmh, look at you, swallowing me down like a good girl.", he drawls, his words breathy, his gaze fixed on my lips that are fitted around his girth. The praise washes over me, and I can feel a tingle down my spine.
It spurs me on, I can feel how wetness seeps into my panties, kneeling before him like this. Taking him deeper until I gag around him, strings of my spit covering him, some of it dropping down further.
But there is no use trying to make him fit down my throat, he is just too thick. I pull back, letting myself breathe again, licking the underside of his shaft which makes him shiver. I move to the top, not stopping the nibbles and sloppy kisses, until my tongue is dragging over the sensitive spot, his foreskin sliding back and forth while I jerk him off at the same time. I can taste the salty hints of precum and feel the metal of his piercing as I toy with the tip.
The sounds that drop from his lips are divine. Soft grunts, deep and gravelly, low breaths. Gripping the cushions with his hand, his fingers of the other one running through his hair. His head is tilting back, every so often, but his eyes don't want to leave me. Seeing how I play with his pierced tip. How my hands run up and down his dick. I spit, letting a dollop of saliva drip down onto him before I spread it down his length to lube him up even more.
"Ah, scheiße.", he grumbles, rolling his eyes back.
I work him with both my hands, my fingers sliding over his soft hot skin easily, his dick slick with my spit. They still barely fit around his girth as I move them a bit faster, finding a steady rhythm, until he's moving restlessly, fucking up into my hands.
I bend forward, taking the tip in my mouth. I fit my lips around him, my cheeks hollow. My eyes are meeting his while I look up at him, and his hips buck up, pushing him a bit deeper which has me gag around him.
"Fuck, just like that." The low gravelly whisper is the only thing he says before I feel him pulsing in my mouth, warm sticky cum shooting down my throat. I hum around him, licking everything up as he comes, and I keep sucking him until I can feel him softening in my mouth.
I pull back, letting him slip out, and drop my jaw to show him his cum in my mouth, the white liquid sitting on my tongue. The sight lets him groan again and I swallow it down, the taste lingering.
I get up from the floor and crawl onto the couch again, wiping over my chin in a quick motion. His dick is still out, resting against his stomach, and he pulls the pants up, to let me take a seat on his thighs.
“Do you believe me now, that I really like your glasses?”, I ask him, pressing my lips to his in a quick kiss, then I steal them from his nose to set it onto mine.
He laughs. “I do.” His hand shoots up, his thumb softly grazing over my cheek, his fingers pushing some of my hair back, his eyes trailing my face, every single bit of it.
“How do I look?”, I ask him, trying to pull a serious grimace, like he always does when he tries to mask his jokes.
“Looking good.” He grins at me while I drop the expression and pose, placing my chin on the back of my hands, batting my eyelashes at him. “And way cuter than me.”, he adds, giving my nose a little peck.
“Well, that’s not difficult.”, I shoot back, sticking my tongue out at him.
We laugh a little, and I cannot fight the smile that adorns my face. It’s so simple and casual, the way we’re sitting here, me on his lap after just blowing him. His arm wrapped around me, his other hand softly stroking over my thigh. The warmth of his body against mine, his scent in my nose, my hands tangled in his hair. His presence alone is stirring something in me, the feelings still new and yet familiar at the same time.
Today at work, my thoughts came back to his offer of staying at his place and I had some doubts. Feeling like I was intruding again, even though he was adamant about not letting me sleep on just a mattress in my own apartment, after he broke my bed, and inviting me to stay with him. At least until we got it fixed. And sitting here with him like this, I don’t know anymore why I even thought twice about it.
There’s just something that has been roaming my mind all day. And now I'm thinking about it again, I can't push it away, though it might be a bit of a weird timing. I just...
I hand him back the glasses, he takes them and I sigh. "I wanted to talk to you about something.", I start then.
He puts the glasses on the end table next to the couch, but his head whips in my direction when I speak. "What is it, Kleine?", he wants to know, his arm around my waist pulling me closer.
"Uh, sorry, I'm bad at this but – and we don't have to put any labels on it or anything – but now that I'm also staying at your place and everything..." I pause and he just looks at me, his brows pulled up. Patiently waiting for me to finish my sentence. "We're dating, right? Like, exclusively?"
He nods slowly, his mouth tilting up into a little lop-sided smile, while he's still looking at me all serious. "I don't plan on seeing anyone else, so yeah, I think, you can call it dating or being exclusive, how the youngsters call it.", he says which pulls a little chuckle from me. "Whatever you wanna call it.", he concludes, squeezing my thigh once, a quick reassuring gesture.
"Okay.", I say, snuggling into him, my head resting on his shoulder, content with that answer.
"If you want to see other people though, that's fine too.", he adds after a second of hesitation, and I’m unsure how to interpret the tone in his voice.
The expression on my face drops when I realise what he means. I break away to look at him. "No! No, I mean, I wasn't asking for that reason. I just wanted to make sure, we were on the same page.", I explain. "I don't want to see anybody else either."
I don't have the nerves to tell him, that this had nothing – well, almost nothing – to do with him, but certain people in my past where expectations were built and not met. I just wanted to know to spare myself any unforeseen surprises in that department.
"Don't worry, Liebes.", he says, pulling me into him again. "As long as I'm on leave, you got me all to yourself." Pressing a kiss to my forehead.
"How long will that be?", I ask, ignoring the little flutter in my stomach. Excitement and dread mixing, hearing him say that I got him all to myself, while at the same time knowing that he will need to go back to his job sometime soon.
"Gonna know next week, when they send the details.", he answers, simply.
“Okay.”, I nod, not knowing what else to say to that, instead stretching up to kiss him again. Starting off slow, my lips pressing softly against his. My hand strokes over his face, feeling the scruff on his jaw beneath my fingertips, as we deepen the kiss.
His tongue strokes against mine, a touch that sends a pang of need between my legs and makes me squirm. I snuggle into his broad chest, and with how I’m draped over his lap, that makes his big burly thigh press against my clothed pussy, and I can’t hold back the moan that escapes my lips. A treacherous, obscene sound that he swallows up.
“What was that?”, he asks, mumbling against my lips, before he pulls back.
“Nothing.”, I say, feigning ignorance. Desperately trying not to subconsciously roll my hips over his muscly thighs, searching for more friction.
He just pulls an eyebrow up, not taking my shit.
“Well, you know. Somebody broke my bed instead of making me come this morning.”, I quip, a challenge in my voice and eyes, which has him look at me from under his eyebrows. The gaze alone is sending a shiver down my spine as it’s boring into me, heated and heavy.
“Oh really.”, he states, his voice deepening.
“Yes really.”, I say. “And…” I halt, trying to find the words. “Sucking your dick didn't help either.”
“Look at you, talking all dirty now, huh?”, he drawls, a mischievous grin cutting through his stern expression, seeming satisfied with my little comment.
“Well, you know, we’re getting there.”, I say, grinning at him. “Getting there, even if I’m not getting off.”, I poke at him again, teasingly rubbing myself over his thigh.
"And we can’t have that.", he states darkly, scooping me up in a quick motion.
He throws me over his shoulder which has me yelp: “König!” before he hurries up the stairs to the bedroom.
Continue right on in the next part: breaking me (not literally) or check out the full story in the Masterlist ~
a/n: this is cut short, cause the part right after is not finished yet, and although my wrist (got tendonitis :c) is already feeling a little better, i still need to rest it and this scene i only needed to proofread, i hope you understand &lt;3 also check out @idontknowreallyidontcare who also has a very nice post about König wearing glasses!
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silvergyus · 4 months
Note
can't stop thinking about a 69 with soobin pleaseee
mirrored ceiling
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pairing: soobin x fem!reader
summary: your boyfriend gets a reflective film put up over the skylight in his room. a handful of flirty texts later, and you're riding his face
warnings: oral (y/n & sb receiving), 69, reader sits on soobin's face, reader gags on soobin's dick once, a little bit of cum eating, hickeys (y/n receiving), flirty texts in the workplace, use of “baby” for soobin, use of "baby/ good girl" for y/n
word count: 3,400+
author's note: thank you so much ☁️ anon for the request!! this was the most difficult fic I've ever written lol. huge thank u to @nightlyawnzz and @https-yeonjun for being beta readers &lt;3
**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙**
The reflective film was new.
Soobin said the company had put it up to help keep the heating bill down since it had been abnormally cold this winter. You had no doubt it also acted as a temporary security bonus, keeping any potential peeping toms from seeing down the skylight. Either way, the silvery film was thin enough to let light in during the day, and, as you'd come to find out, shiny enough to reflect as a near-perfect mirror when the bedroom lights were on at night.
This was going to be fun.
You couldn't spend every night with Soobin, unfortunately. Work had asked you to come in early to set up before a big client came in, so you were forced to sleep in your own bed for once. You sighed, missing your space heater of a boyfriend. Normally you'd be resting your head on his chest so his warmth and the rhythm of his heartbeat could lull you to sleep.
You rolled over again and again, trying to get comfortable without the familiar shape of Soobin laying beside you. Defeated, you stared up at the ceiling through the darkness. From the bedside table, you heard the staccato buzzing of your phone.
Thankful for a distraction, you eagerly grabbed the glowing screen.
New message: 🩷 Soobie 🩷
You tapped the notification, opening your messaging app to two messages.
Miss you
[picture]
A strangled noise escaped your phone as you stared at the flirty image your boyfriend had sent. The photo was him, reflected in the new silver coating, arm out to your side of the bed.
Not fair, you texted back, wanna be snuggled right there 😓 You were tired and you missed sleeping beside him.
Come over
You know I can't tonight baby :(, you typed back. I'll see you tomorrow
:(
I can't wait
goodnite baby
sleep good
You smiled at his messages. I will🩷
can't wait to see u
You fell asleep, tiredness finally overtaking you, putting a pause on your thoughts of Soobin's new mirrored ceiling.
----
All through the next day at work you were a wreck. Halfway through your morning your phone buzzed with Soobin’s reply to your goodmorning! text. He sent back a simple good morning and another picture of him reflected in the silvery cover.
His hair was messy from sleep, sleep shirt pulled in the night to expose his collarbone, the faded purple mark you left there just barely visible. There was a lazy grin on his face as he reached up as if to wave.
Your eyes were wide as you scanned the image, taking everything in. Oh, he was teasing you now. And to think you thought his picture last night was innocent, just showing off the new feature of his room, as if "miss you" wasn't his go-to message when he wanted you in his bed for more than just cuddles.
Your tired brain must've skipped over any flirty undertones and your sweet boyfriend let it go, knowing you were sleepy. But he knew you were up now, and coming over in ten hours. You thanked the universe you had put on cute panties this morning.
The rest of the work day was you managing to get everything right despite the burning need that had settled over your skin once the puzzle pieces clicked into place. Soobin's messages had only gotten bolder as he sent you pictures of him sweaty in the dance room mirrors. You didn't dare sneak away for a photo to send back, only replying quickly before you were running off to the next task of the day.
----
Finally, your long day ended and you were on your way to Soobin's dorm. You sent him a quick text to let him know your eta.
He had food from your favorite takeout place waiting for you when you walked in, all but collapsing in his warm embrace as he greeted you at the door. "Missed you," he whispered into your hair.
You playfully slapped his arm, releasing yourself from the hug. "It was like a day and a half you goofball."
----
A few hours later, after eating and playing video games together, the two of you were curled up in Soobin's bed. The dim glow of the bedside lamp and the screen of Soobin's phone were the only sources of light. Your head rested on his shoulder, left leg resting on top of his right thigh, your arm crossing his chest so you could gently play with the hem of his sleeve as the video played.
You shifted your position slightly and felt the thick muscle in Soobin's thigh against your clothed core as you moved. A nearly inaudible whimper escaped your lips as you felt him against you, the want from the morning never fully dissipating.
Soobin stilled beneath you at your noise. The video continued to play, his eyes still focused on the screen. You held your breath, waiting to see how he would react. He had been the one to get you in this mood, but nothing had been brought up since the afternoon and you weren't sure if he was still feeling it.
Until you felt him flex the muscle in his thigh so that he brushed against you there again, your sharp intake of breath telling him that his texts had worked on you.
He paused the video, setting his phone down on the nightstand. "You know I really missed you last night."
"Mmmhmm," you hummed, face heating up. "You texted me, remember?"
"I remember," he whispered. "Look up there." He gestured to the ceiling.
You looked up to face your reflection, you and Soobin curled up together on his big white bed. "Keep your eyes up there and let me make you feel good."
He kissed you, breaking your view, a long, languid kiss. His tongue teased at the seam of your lips before exploring your mouth. The heat between your legs grew as he repositioned himself so that he hovered over you, cradling you tenderly beneath him. Your hands found their way to his head, tangling in his hair, the image reflected back to you in the reflection above.
The kiss broke with you whining for more as he trailed hot kisses down your throat. His fingers found their way to the buttons on your sleep shirt, undoing each one as his mouth continued against your throat. Once the final button had been undone, Soobin’s warm hands slipped underneath the fabric, slipping around to hold you, pushing the fabric aside as he did. Now bare, your nipples stiffened against the cool air. Soobin pulled away to admire your bare chest, groaning lightly as he did. “So pretty,” he whispered, sucking your nipple into his mouth and releasing with a wet pop. “Missed these.” You smiled to yourself; oh your silly boy, couldn’t go forty-eight hours without your boobs in his mouth.
He continued worshiping your breast, slowly kneading the other in his big hand, pinching and pulling at the nipple his mouth wasn’t attached to before pulling off and switching so that each side had the same attention. Your quiet moans filled the space; your fingers lightly scratching his scalp and pulling his hair the way you know he liked it.
“Must’ve missed me a lot, huh, baby?”
Soobin pulled off your chest, leaving your tits wet and open to the cool air. He nuzzled his reply into the skin of your belly as he pressed kisses down your body. “You don’t even know.” He kissed below your right breast. “Kept looking up and seeing everything reflected back.” A kiss just above your navel. “Thought about how good it would look seeing you cumming for me like that.” His lips hovered above the waistband of your panties. “Got so hard thinking about it.” He pressed a hot kiss to the lacy edge of your panties, grinding his hips against the bed as he did.
“Soobin,” you whispered, your voice whiny and full of breathless need. “Need you.”
He grinned up at you from where he was positioned- his face hovering over your pussy. “Need you to keep your eyes up there for me, okay baby? Need you to watch yourself cum for me.” You groaned at his words, complying with his request as you watched in the mirrored film. You watched him as he tugged off your panties, discarding them onto the floor. You watched him as he parted your thighs, giving him access to your needy core. You watched him as his dark head dipped down, licking a hot stripe through your folds.
After that, it became hard to keep watching.
----
Soobin’s plush lips wrapped around your clit, sucking gently. His tongue peaked forward as he did, running against the bundle of nerves. He had barely started and already you were arching your back, eyes closing as the sensations built.
His tongue worked against you, swirling against your clit, dipping down to run through your folds, teasing at your entrance. His mouth a wet, hot heat against your wet, hot core. His hands splayed out across your hips, holding you down when you instinctively bucked your hips, chasing the feeling of his plush lips against you.
He pulled off of you. “Are you keeping your eyes on the mirror?” His words caused a heat to creep over your skin. He registered your bashful response for what it is. “Need you to keep your eyes open baby, want you to see how good I can make you feel. Can you do that for me?”
You nodded. “I can do it.”
“That’s a good girl.” He returned his attention to eating you out, tongue giving flat, broad strokes to your core, swirling around your aching clit. You moaned his name, fighting to keep your gaze trained on the image above you. You on your back, nearly completely nude, your boyfriend between your thighs, the marks he sucked onto your chest blooming purple and blue. A particularly strong suck to your clit made you buck your hips, the image of yourself so desperate drawing another moan from your lips. 
You were already close, watching as you came undone causing you to unravel even faster. You clenched around nothing, craving that one final push to send you over the edge. As if he could read your mind, Soobin’s tongue nudged your entrance, slipping just barely inside. The feeling of his muscle there caused you to cry out, your thighs clamping together. Soobin hummed against you, grinding against the mattress as your enthusiastic response spurred him on further. The vibrations against your core, along with the bump of his nose against your clit sent you careening, your orgasm falling on you like a ton of bricks.
You followed Soobin’s instructions, watching as you writhed against the sheets. Watching as you bucked your hips. Watching as your hands dug into Soobin’s hair, pushing his face against you, desperate for more.
You watched as you rode out your orgasm on your boyfriend’s face, listened as he moaned against your pussy, lapping up the flood of wetness that you produced.
You tugged at his hair gently, pulling him off as you shied away from oversensitivity. He grinned up at you lazily, a dopey smile plastered to his face as your juices coated his skin. “Did you watch?”
Your chest heaved as you came down from your high. “Yes baby, watched the whole thing.”
He crawled up the bed to kiss you, the taste of yourself heavy on his tongue as it danced with yours. “Was it hot?”
“This’ll be hotter,” you replied, pushing Soobin against the bed.
His eyes were wide, unsure of what you were about to do. You kissed him, hands finding the hem of his shirt. You tugged it up over his head before slipping the rest of your open shirt off your shoulders and pressing your bare chest to his. He shivered when your skin touched, growing increasingly aware of how angry his erection was in his boxers.
You palmed him through the thin material, continuing to kiss him, humming against his lips when he whined. “Hmm, lay down flat for me baby. Gonna make you feel good now.”
He complied, shuffling down the bed so he was flat on his back. Slowly, you pulled off his boxers, a wet stain of precum showing just how ready he was for you.
His free cock slapped against his tummy, beads of silver dripping onto his skin. You grabbed it at the base, locking eyes as you asked “Do you want to try something? Could be fun for you with the mirrored ceiling and all.”
He agreed, not quite sure what you had in mind as you climbed up so that you were sat on his chest. You quickly explained your plan, growing warm as Soobin held onto each word, growing more visibly excited as you spoke.
“Can you keep your eyes up there for me?”
Soobin shook his head, laughing at you making him play his own game. “I'll try my best, baby. Anything for you.”
You giggled, moving so that your hips were over his head, your face hovering over his flushed cock. “Let me know if it’s too much, okay?”
“I will. But it won’t be.”
You kept your hips hovering over his face for a few moments, despite his hands gripping into your thighs. You loved to hear the sounds he makes when you first take him into your mouth.
“Fuuuck,” he cursed out slowly as you licked at his leaky tip, “so good.”
Your tongue teased at his slit before you dragged it down, tracing the vein that ran across the underside. You placed slow kisses along his length, hand massaging his balls as you did. His heavy breaths were loud in the quiet of the room as he fought to keep his voice down, always a bit louder when he was in your mouth. 
Wanting to put on a show for him before you truly sat on his face, you angled his cock towards his hip so you could take him at an angle that would reflect more than just the back of your head. Your lips wrapped around his tip, suckling him into your mouth. His sharp intake of breath made you smile around him, just the corners of your mouth turning up. You slowly dragged your lips down his length, causing him to whine.
Before you could do anything more, he pulled your ass down so that his lips could attach themselves to your clit once again. The motion caused you to pull off Soobin’s cock, your balance wobbling. You tipped forward, moaning with your face pressed against his balls. His hips chased the vibrations and you felt him groan against your core.
Your thighs were still wet and sticky from Soobin’s earlier endeavors as they closed around his head, your hips rutting forward, needing more of him. You tried your best to focus on Soobin, on making him feel good. This was your idea but already you were lightheaded and distracted with your own pleasure.
You took him into your mouth again, feeling his weight heavy on your tongue. Relaxing your throat, you took him as far as you could go. He was big- fat tip nudging at your soft palate as you tried to focus on breathing through your nose. Meanwhile, Soobin’s tongue teased at your entrance, darting inside as your nose brushed against his pelvis. His teasing caused you to twitch forward, gagging yourself slightly on his cock. You pulled off, gasping, air flooding into your lungs as a thick mix of drool and precum fell from your lips.
Without your lips wrapped around him, Soobin was more precise in his actions, driving you closer to your second high. His hands squeezed your thighs as he licked broad stripes up the length of your folds, rough, desperate squeezes that would leave marks in the morning. His lips and tongue were wet and hot against your clit, the slippery friction making you release a string of needy whines.
You gripped onto Soobin’s cock, hand slowly pumping him as you tried not to get lost in your own pleasure. You brought your face down to lick across his length, your spit adding to the mess pooling at the base. You gathered it in your hand, coating his length with the wetness while licking the head. His hips stuttered in response. You took him into your throat again, bobbing your head on what you could comfortably take.
The room was filled with the slick sounds of your shared pleasure. Soobin groaned softly beneath you as he ate you out, taking pleasure in the taste of you and what small glimpses he could get of the two of you in his new reflective ceiling.
You continued to bob on his cock, alternating with slick jerks of your wrist when he became too much.
The pressure building in your core was becoming overwhelming. You rocked back, putting your weight onto your hands as you ground your hips down onto Soobin’s face. Your boyfriend grunted underneath you, his tongue moving faster against you, reading the cues of your body, wanting you to cum on his face. His hands moved up from where they were holding your thighs to squeeze hard on your ass. Broken whimpers fell from your lips as Soobin’s swollen lips slipped against your clit, the slick friction of his lips and tongue sucking and licking was about to send you over the edge.
“There, there, right there,” you moaned into the skin at his hip. Your hips were moving on their own as you chased your high, cumming hard on Soobin’s tongue. You cried out, hips stuttering away as you bucked overstimulation, but his big hands held you back, keeping you on his tongue as he led you through your second orgasm.
Head heavy with your high, you reached for Soobin’s cock again, not wanting to leave him without your touch. Catching your breath, you adjusted yourself so that you weren’t sitting directly on Soobin’s face anymore. He groaned at the sight of your swollen pussy dripping down onto him, wet with your combined fluids and flushed from his attention.
You hummed as you pulled him back into your mouth, sucking at the head of his cock, flushed red with want. Your hand jerked the base, your quick movements bringing him closer to his own orgasm. He moaned beneath you, his breath hot against your sensitive pussy. Your motions sped up as your tongue flicked at his slit, your hand jerking him in quick motions. His hips stuttered beneath you, bucking up into your grip, chasing his high. “That’s it baby, cum for me. Make a mess.” You said, pulling off him as your hand moved the slick of your spit and his precum down the length of his cock, movements getting even more slippery. “Look up in the mirror,” you commanded, craning your neck as you moved your hips so you could make eye contact with him in the silvery film above.
The moan he let out when your eyes met in the reflection was loud, drowning out the wet sounds beneath your face. “Gonna cum, gonna cum baby.”
You smiled, turning your face back to his cock. “Let go baby- cum for me.” He choked out a strangled whine as he came, spurting ropes of cum across his tummy and thighs. Your open mouth caught some too, the taste of salt bursting on your tongue as you caught what you could, knowing Soobin liked it when you tasted like him. Your hand slowed as you continued pumping him, milking his cock until he tapped your thighs, signaling you to climb off.
----
He pulled you to his chest, cuddling you in his arms as you both caught your breath. Soobin’s face was a mess of slick and spit, his hair mussed up, standing on all ends. He looked sleepy and content, fully sated. You kissed him, tasting each other in the kiss. “Was that everything you were thinking of when you texted me yesterday?”
He smiled, dopey grin lighting up his face, “maybe not everything.” He kissed your nose. “Honestly, I couldn’t see that good with you in the way,” he teased, placing a light slap to your ass. You smacked him playfully on the chest. His hand found yours, lacing your fingers together. “But we can try the rest later. The film’s gonna be up for a while.”
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author’s note: this is a work of fiction not meant to accurately represent the idol. please do not repost.
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theemporium · 1 year
Note
hey bestie, smut prompt 22 for stiles? 🙂
22. “can you feel what your doing to me”
.
It was an incredibly stupid plan—but then again, when wasn’t it when it came to the pack of Beacon Hills?
You couldn’t exactly remember what had led you into this situation, or how you and Stiles got the short-end of the stick to be volunteered into it. But what you did remember was Derek rambling about hunters having a sixth sense for supernatural beings in close vicinity so—as the only two humans in the pack—you and Stiles were thrown in the deep end. 
And now the deep end meant hiding in a really small closet whilst some of the deadliest hunters stood in the room just before you. 
“Can you stop moving? They will hear you rustling.” 
“I can’t!” 
“Oh my god.” 
You were pressed against the door, using a small crack to watch the hunters in the room. You couldn’t really hear what they were saying, but the tables of weapons spread out in front of them was intimidating enough. 
“I’m serious, stop wiggling,” Stiles hissed from behind you, letting out a heavy sigh. 
“Stiles, I can’t,” you hissed back at him. “If you move the hanger that is poking me, maybe I’ll fucking stop.” 
There was a pause before the boy spoke. 
“That’s not a hanger.” 
Your body tensed for a few moments as the boy’s words ran through your head, taking you a few moments to really process his words before you felt your cheeks heating up. 
“Stiles—” 
“I can’t control it,” he grumbled from behind you, letting out a small groan when you tried to move away again, only to push your ass further against him. “Fuck, don’t do that. Can you feel what you're doing to me?” 
“I’m trying to help!” you whisper-yelled under your breath.
“That’s the opposite of helping,” Stiles groaned into your ear, biting down on his lip. His hands found your waist, gripping it tightly in hopes of making you stay still. “Just…stop.���
Your heart was thundering in your chest, your lungs feeling like they were on fire and the last thing you should be focusing on was Stiles’ dick pressing into your ass when your lives were quite literally in danger. 
And yet, it was your only focus. 
Maybe you could blame it on the adrenaline pumping through your body at the risk of getting caught. Maybe you could blame it on a temporary lapse of judgement. Maybe you could even blame it on the crush you had been harbouring for the boy for ages.
Or maybe, you wouldn’t really need a reason as you pushed your ass back into him, rolling your hips against the bulge in his jeans. 
“Shit,” Stiles hissed through clenched teeth and gripped your waist harder. “What are you doing?” 
“Shhh, I’m just trying to help,” you murmured as your arms wound behind your, fingers tangled in his hair as he leaned against your shoulder. “Just keep quiet, Stiles.” 
“Fuck,” he moaned against your shoulder as he began to grind his hip against your ass, something about the action so needy and desperate, and yet it set your whole body on fire. 
Your hands dropped to cover his, slowly guiding them up until they were cupping your tits over your shirts, a pathetic whine leaving the boy’s lips as he continued to rut against your ass. It didn’t take long for muffled curses to leave his lips as he finally came. 
“Shit, shit, shit,” he breathlessly chanted as you continued to circle your ass against him, even when he let out a small whine. “I-I can’t, it’s too much.” 
“Such a good boy, Stiles,” you whispered in the closet knowing you still had to find a way out before your luck ran out. “Such a good boy for me.” 
“Just for you,” he whispered, face nuzzled against the crook of your neck as he squeezed your tits, listening to the soft mewls you let out as you both desperately tried to keep your cover from being blown.
.
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fluffylino · 6 months
Text
boypussy!hyunjin pt 2
eating your pretty boyfriend out while he's asleep~
-contains mature themes.
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the boy looked so surreal. his chest rising and falling so naturally. hyunjin was so deep in sleep, he had not even woken up at the sound of the bathroom door creaking open as you came out.
it was still dark. you looked outside. it was raining heavily. lightning and thunder lighting up the sky every few minutes. rain in november? well that was new. maybe winter was finally setting in.
you squinted, trying to read the time on the clock.
6.45 am
no wonder it was still dark. the temperature had dropped. you were feeling colder than usual.
you leaned against the windowsill, enjoying the fresh smell of mud and the sound of rain.
hyunjin was so out. he had a tough day before. dancing and reviewing his steps till he finally couldn't. you pitied him. he was all bundled up in the sheets, his white tshirt crinkled up.
just as you were about to lie back down beside him, you froze. was he whimpering?
"oh my poor hyunjinnie" you whispered to yourself. you brushed his messy hair out of his face, a smile blossoming on your face.
"should i give you a nice reward?" you said, pressing a soft kiss on his cheek.
he didn't move, clearly still asleep.
you pulled his pants down slowly, noticing the wet patch on his underwear.
"oh so you're wearing the new panties i bought you" your heart swelled. the pretty little yellow bow, matched him so well. you remembered how he kept saying he wouldn't wear it and would prefer wearing his boxers.
you couldn't help it as you pressed your nose against his heat, inhaling deeply, at his scent.
you slid the piece of clothing off, just enough. his cunt exposed. puffy. leaking. begging to be played with.
"you have such a pretty pussy, hyunjinnie" you mumbled. deep down wishing yours looked as beautiful. everything about him was perfect. from his personality to here. your sleepiness temporary leaving you.
poking and prodding at his swollen lips. you could make out the way his muscles clenched and spasmed.
waiting. waiting to be touched.
you ran your tongue against him, all the way up to his clit. his wetness coating your tastebuds.
fuck he was delicious. you sucked on his clit, getting surprised when he began to stir in his sleep.
a whine leaving him. had he woken up? for a second you looked up, realising he was still fast asleep. mouth slightly parted.
you blew on his pussy, loving the way the boy let out another sound. you slipped your tongue into him, moaning at how hot he was. essence leaking out of him in copious amounts. shit you had never seen him so wet. he was dripping down onto the sheets. you slurped it up. not caring at how loud you were being.
"m-mommy ahh-" his morning voice startled you. his voice starting out deep until it turned whiny and breathy as you moved your tongue inside of him. fucking him good. you lifted your head.
"mommy?" you repeated after him in surprise.
"what happened to you wanting to be dominant?" hyunjin hid his face in the blanket covering him. eyes barely open.
"that was when you had a dick hm? when you have a pussy then its mommy who has to take care of you" you teased.
however he was too precious. you couldn't tease him anymore. he was your precious baby. all he wanted was you filling him up. letting you use his cunt for whatever you wanted.
"uhhgh mm-mh" strangled pleas leaving him. it made your stomach do summersalts.
hyunjin was so sensitive in this state. even more so, since he was asleep not even a few minutes ago. a high pitched moan echoed throughout the room when you shoved his legs apart, a cold breeze happening to blow in at the right moment.
he shivered. voice getting stuck in his throat.
"mommy's gonna eat you out. go back to sleep honey"
you waited for him to respond. yet he didn't. you slapped his cunt. hyunjin wailed, trying to move away from you and your dangerous touch.
"hng-nngh a-aah" he moaned out, trying to close his legs around your head when you began to rub his clit in circular motions, all while you shoved your tongue up his pussy.
he was panting, mouth parted and eyes shut.
for some reason your mind went back to when he had made you get on your knees for him. fucking your mouth like you were his toy. it was a stark contrast to what was happening now. you whined. you wanted him in you. you wanted him to fuck you and fill you to the brim. it had been 4 days.
4 whole days since he had magically got a pussy.
you'd never forget this. you could feel him everywhere. you could smell him over the rain. you could taste him.
"i promise ill g-give it all back to you, my love" he let out, quietly
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reiderwriter · 8 months
Text
Baby, If You Only Knew
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x female Reader
Part Two of this fic, inspired by Taylor Swift's I Can See You
Summary: On the edge of a break, you and Spencer find ways to claim each other that get everyone's attention.
Warnings: Day 17 of Kinktober - make-up sex, possessive Spencer, marking, biting, love bites/ hickeys, penetrative sex, creampie, breeding kink.
A/N: Day 17 is finally here! I once again wrote this on my phone, but at least it was my nice, new, functioning phone. I hope you like it!
Sneaking back out of the closet wasn't easy when you were so pissed at Spencer. He wasn't able to control his impulses, and now it was your problem. So yes, it was hard to storm out of a closet in the middle of an argument without drawing the attention of all your team members. 
They each sent you strange looks as you walked back to your temporary desk and finished up your work, not talking to anyone until the days work had ended and you could escape back to your motel room for some much needed peace. 
Spencer didn't feel so strongly about your need to be alone. Catching a hand around the door before you shut it, he let himself in and closed it behind himself as you hugged and threw your bags down. 
"I don't want to fight again, Spencer, I'm tired."
"Then don't fight, but you need to listen." 
"Oh, do I? Couldn't imagine what else I'll be able to do in my room when you pushed your way in here." 
"Don't be unreasonable." He said wrapping a hand around your waist and pulling you up into him once again.
"You know, for someone whose such a stickler for our no public dating rule, you sure have been risky today. Pushing me into that closet, following me into my private room." Your words were angry, but they were softened by the feeling of him against you. 
"I told you, if they were good at their jobs they'd have realised how I feel about you by now." 
"Sometimes people need words, Spencer to make things very clear," his head fell to your neck then, inhaling your scent before pressing his lips lightly against your skin. 
"What people would that be? You? Detective Dreamy?" He pressed another kiss to your skin, distracting you momentarily. Your next words came out in a stutter, and you almost cursed how weak you were being now. 
"That's not fair and you know it." 
"Let's test that theory, shall we?" He bit down on your neck then, lifting your legs and wrapping them around his centre as he began rubbing up against your core, head not lifting from the spot on your neck he'd evidently taken a liking to. 
"Spencer, fuck.." Your moans were breathy, held back by your anger and the knowledge that you were surrounded on both sides by FBI agents trying to get some sleep. 
"So pretty for me, just a little longer, I swear." You had no clue what he was talking about, and you weren't sure you cared, letting him suck and kiss and lick in anyway he wanted, just as long as he didn't stop. You could feel his dick in his pants, could feel it poking up against you as his hips shifted up and down, trying to give the both of you some release. 
He pulled away sharply after a few minutes, grinning boastfully at the blooming mark on your neck. 
"There," he said, wiping his lips carefully, setting you back down. "Is that enough of a public announcement for you?" You clapped a hand over your neck and ran to the bathroom to check your suspicions. 
Sure enough, there was a ferocious red mark that you were sure would swiftly discolour to purple. 
"Get out. Now, Spencer." He didn't stick around for long after that, evidently just as angry as you, but wearing that stupid smug look on his face still. He left you alone in your room and you wanted to scream and cry and make him come back and finish. 
You climbed into bed and let sleep take you. 
The next morning, you searched long and hard for an item of clothing that would cover his territorial marking. But your go bag had limited items in it, a fact that he'd known and exploited, placing the mark just high enough to poke over all the tops you out on. 
If he was going to play petty, you would, too. Pulling out your lowest cut top, you wrapped your hair up into a bun and decided to forego makeup entirely. He wanted the world to see what he'd done, and you were going to let them. 
Just as you'd suspected, Spencer's plan didn't work as he'd hoped. Instead of the team settling quietly and connecting the dots between the two of you quietly, they were almost more curious about what had happened. 
"Wooo, mama, getting up too close and personal with the locals are we? Good for you." Morgan had cheered at you S soon as you'd walked into the precinct that morning. 
You had similar, careful questions from JJ and Hotchner as well, and Emily had slapped you on the back and laughed maniacally as she asked you if you'd had a good lay. The best part was Spencer got to watch all of it happen, he got to watch himself get proved wrong right in front of his eyes and his stupid ego wouldn't let him say a word either way. 
You gave him a wink as you sat next to him, ready to continue reading up on files that'd help you nail the criminal. You had a suspect, now you just needed irrefutable evidence and possibly a confession to be able to return home. 
Your local admirer had followed you into the room, however, and you weren't expecting to have such a direct confrontation with the man who'd until this point had been nothing but polite. 
"You know, if you weren't interested, you could've said so in a less slutty way. Now you're parading around this precinct like a cheap whore. Not a good look." He said it so nonchalantly, you didn't even realise he was talking to you at first, only really tuning in when Spencer stiffened up beside you. 
"Excuse me?" You blinked at him again, wondering if you'd truly misheard him. 
"You heard what I said, you look like a who-" 
"Finish your sentence and I promise you, I'll have your badge, gun and pension by the end of the day." Spencer growled the words from your side, forcing the man to meet his eyes. 
"Come on, you're a smart man, Doctor Reid, surely you know what a little slut she's being, trying to play hard to get." You have to grab Spencer by the arm to stop him from reaching over the table and hitting the man. He responds by pulling you into his chest, effectively lifting you from your chair into his lap. 
"My girlfriend is not a whore just because she doesn't want your tiny dick. I'd say that actually makes her quite sensible." Your heart thumps at the confrontation, but choking on the tense atmosphere in the room, you're unable to say anything until Emily bursts into the room, breaking whatever spell had trapped you there in that pissing match. 
"Y/N– oh. We, uh, we need you in interrogation." Spencer grabbed your hips and stood you up, but he didn't let his hands leave you as he held his angry gaze with the detective. Spinning you around he bought your lips down to his, smothering you for a good minute before releasing you to Emily. You stumbled slightly, but made your way over, silently reeling at your boyfriends actions.
It was possessive, and shitty, and territorial, and so goddammit funking arousing. The growl in his voice had sent a spark through you that made you want to press your legs together until it stopped. So when the time comes for you to clock off that night, suspect safely behind bars, you practically skip all the way to your motel room. 
Once again, you found yourself with an alien object in the door, blocking you from closing it completely. This time, it was Spencer's satchel. 
"You trying to shut me out again?" He asks, a small smile grazing his lips.
"That depends, are you going to make me mount you in the office again tomorrow?"
"I was thinking the jet, actually. Join the club, you know?" He dropped his bags by the door and pulled you in for a kiss, letting you moan softly against his skin.
"I'm sorry," he said, pulling away and walking you back to the bed until it hit the backs of your legs and you let them buckle beneath you. "He wouldn't have talked to you like that if I hadn't marker you up like that." 
His words were an apology, but the fire in his eyes said he didn't really regret a thing. In fact, you were sure that'd he'd do it all again in an instant, but this time he wouldn't stop short on the violence.
"No, you're not." 
"No, I'm not. He shouldn't have talked to you, but I did enjoy watching him realise whose good little whore you are." You gasp at the words as he pushes you down fully on the bed, lips meeting yours again in a furious clash. 
"Fuck, Spencer," You gasped, as he ripped apart the tights you were wearing, desperate for access to your body. 
"I enjoyed it so much, I think I'm going to do it again. That's what you want, right baby?" He kissed his way down your neck while spreading your neck. It was more gentle than the previous night, more tender, but you knew you'd be waking up just as sore, so what did that matter now. 
Nails digging into your skin as he pushed the tights away from your core, you gasped at the contact, opening your chest and neck up further for him as you reacted to the sensations plaguing your body. 
You moved your hands up to unbutton his shirt, certain that anything he was going to do  you were going to repay tenfold. Undressing became a war between the two of you as you rolled around, mouths still connected, desperate to see each other completely undone first. 
Spencer had the advantage of not caring about how much of a wreck your clothes were, and in almost an instant, you were bare to him.
He kissed up and down your neck, over your breasts and down your stomach, leaving a trail of happy red marks to match his previous artwork. Installing each one took time, but you willingly gave him the freedom to bite, suck and sooth your skin, knowing you'd be on display for him for the rest of your life. He was still trapped inside his boxers, cock sufficiently hard and distracting against your core. When he finally pulled away to admire his work, you took the opportunity to push up, rolling the two of you over so you could grind into his large member as you gave reciprocated his kisses. 
He stoked a soothing hand down your back as you writhed on top of him, leaving a trail of small love bites from collar bone to collar bone, pressing a few higher just so you knew they'd be seen in the morning.
"That's it baby, you belong to me. Let's show everyone." When he decided you'd done enough, he flipped your position again, finally letting his cock free and shoving it into you with little warning, leaving you crying out his name as you finally received what you'd been begging for.
"Yes, Spencer, right there, right fucking there." Your voice was loud, desperate and raspy, like you wanted to hear what a desperate slut you were. He reciprocated in kind, playing into the pleasure of the moment.
"Oh you like that? You like my cock inside of you? Tell me who that pussy belongs to." 
"Spencer! It belongs to you, it belongs to Spencer." His fingers fell to his clit as he pulled his dick out of you for a second. Flipping you over onto all fours, he thrust in again, picking up a rougher pace as you listened to the creak of the bed, the wet slap of his balls against your ass. 
"That's right, my little slut, Y/N. My little slutty girlfriend." His arms wrapped around your torso as he began thrusting like a dog in heat, using your warm wet holes to get off, as a place to dump his load. 
"Gonna fill your fucking pushy so everyone knows who you belong to. Gonna knock you up and keep you filled so you remember, too." He pulled your head up by your hair as he said the words, and in an instant you were Cummings on his cock, screaming his name as he somehow found the energy to increase his speed.
The hand in your hair was the only thing keeping you from collapsing into the bed, your face covered in the tangle of hair and the drool dropping from your open mouth. 
"Did you hear me, Y/N? I'm gonna breed you. You want that?" You loudly moaned another barely coherent 'yes' and then you were away in the clouds, letting your eyes roll back in your head as the first rope of cum shot into you. 
He kept his hips flush with yours as he released into you, loving the feeling of your walls milking him for all he's got. He didn't pull out until he was certain that not a drop would fall out. 
He make a start to move towards the bathroom when the room phone rang, practically jumping off it's receiver. Picking yp the phone, Spencer greeted the reception clerk, knowing you were still such a panting mess, you'd never be able to carry out such a mundane conversation.
But mundane it was not as you watched your boyfriend flush in front of your eyes. 
"We got a noise complaint." He told you shyly, and you greeted him with a fit of giggles, breaking into crying laughter after about 10 seconds of looking at his bewildered face. 
"Where from?" 
"Room 127. It's the one on this side." He said gesturing to the left. That only set you off into more laughter, frustrating him ever so slightly. 
"What? What's so funny?"
"Spencer, that's Morgan's room. I guess if he didn't know from his brilliant profiling skills before he will now."
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abyssal808 · 9 months
Text
S1 Soulmate Au prompt inspired by @subbaculture 's prompt wherein "Eddie learns Tengwar just to be special and so Steve's been kicking around with "What's Kickin', Sexy?" on his body
What Tommy Hagan hadn’t been blessed with in terms of intelligence. God - in his allegedly infinite wisdom - had seen fit to redistribute into shoulder width.
Tommy, in turn, swanned around Hawkin’s High shoulder-checking every freak, geek and nerd into nearby lockers; with the kind of wingspan better suited to weirdly proportioned monkeys.
Hellfire members were no stranger to it. Two weeks ago Hagan had run into Gareth hard enough to leave a bruise. A “bump” with enough force behind it that he’d bounced off the lockers and landed on the floor.
Which, fine, two could play at that game. Even if Hagan could barely get his hand off Carol’s tits to realize there were counter-moves to be made at all.
A grade A dick move, even if it was also incredibly boring and pedestrian. The kind of thing jocks who barely had two braincells to rub together saw as peak comedy. Giggling like a cross between a group of cavemen and a flock of pre-school girls whenever their ring-leader du jour started herding freaks like a neurotic border collie.
“Watch it, freak.” Hagan hissed, skirting around Eddie without bothering to shove him at all. Giving a wide berth to whatever zone of contagious freak cooties being Eddie Munson brought to the table.
Behind him, Gareth - blocked from the rest of the hall by Eddie’s leather jacket, in a way only freshies were short enough to pull off - buried a laugh in a cough, muffled into the heel of his hand. Not missing the way that even Hagan - the most infamous asshole of them all - looked ready to bolt as soon as Eddie waved him off in a jaunty salute.
Victory tasted sweet and electric. Fizzing under his skin the way Wayne’s Miller Lites would bubble in the back of his throat, whenever Eddie stole a sip from the half open cans in the back of their fridge. It made him stupid in a way those brief tastes of beer hadn’t managed to yet.
Being The Freak came with perks. An untouchable radius that left Eddie drunk with power. Riding the high of knowing that maybe Highschool didn’t have to suck all the time. That he could play at being a rabid guard dog for the lost little sheep of the world, rail against dickheads like Hagan and win.
Maybe he could use it to plead temporary insanity for what he did next. Riding the high into a really, spectacularly stupid idea.
Everyone had their words.
Eddie’s were tucked away, hidden along the curve of his rib. A curly chicken scratch that mixed print and cursive into a barely legible mess.
‘Is that like, yiddish?’
A weird-ass question, until Eddie had pulled an all nighter on a now infamous school night, falling in love with Middle earth. Head filled with nothing but the dark halls of Khazad-dûm, the sweeping boughs of Lothlórien.
Speak friend and enter.
Pedo mellon a minno.
He’d traced the words over and over. Thrilled by the lilt, the cadence, the beautiful rise and fall of consonants no one else would understand.
Setting his heart there and then on the dorkiest greeting anyone could have come up with. But hey, it was original, which was half the battle people went through when picking soulmate greetings.
He’d gone through several variations. Always in Sindarin, because why the hell not.
People usually saved them, tucked them far away from casual conversation. Bizarre phrases, always non-sequitour, brought out only for special occasions. That lightning strike of instant attraction. People you could see yourself connecting with. Hoping they would be a part of you as much as you were theirs.
He couldn’t see himself connecting with Tommy Hagan in a million years. Not even if they waited in that hallway until the heat death of the universe.
But that didn’t mean he couldn’t terrorize him with the possibility.
“What’s Kickin’ Sexy?”
He yelled after Hagan’s retreating back, with its fuck-off wide shoulders; elvish mangled, but passable. Enjoying the rictus of horror on his face, going from anger to fear and back again.
He shifted on his heel, pushing Gareth further behind him in case things got ugly. Herding him back towards Jeff with little bumps, as both of them tried to muscle down their cackling. Nerdy enough to piece together the gist of what Eddie had been hollering about. Even if Jeff was better at Quenya, because he was a weirdo and a purist about that kind of shit.
All in all, a job well done, assuming Hagan didn’t flip his shit and start throwing punches to assert dominance.
Or at least, it felt like it, until Harrington - trailing behind Hagan - sucked all the air out of the room. Hands on his hips, a furrow on his brow, blurting it out without even thinking about it.
“Is that like, Yiddish?”
You could have heard a pin drop.
Panic clamped around Eddie’s throat like a vice. The same way Gareth’s hand, tiny and tense - he had yet to hit his growth spurt - wrapped around the edge of Eddie’s leather jacket. Pushing past the waistband of his jeans to claw at skin.
The side that mattered, one they both knew had those words that wrapped around Eddie’s chest. Curving towards the sternum.
Whatever face he was making gave it away instantly.
Harrington’s face shuttered and fell. A whole host of micro expressions that passed through in a second before he scrubbed them away. A pair of shaking hands that rubbed at his eyes and dragged down his face. Peeking at Eddie through a gap in his fingers.
“Jesus Christ it’s you; isn’t it?”
Behind Eddie, Gareth tugged him half a step back, nails digging into his hip. Little half-moon crescents he barely felt now, but would find later.
“Steve?” The waver in Hagan’s voice would have been funny if it wasn’t nauseating.
Terrifying, when Steve waved him off and stepped towards Eddie. Jerky and halting, like a puppet with half it’s strings cut.
“I can’t fucking believe this Munson. You gotta tell me if it is.” Steve bit out, with a wobble that sounded too trembling and confused to be anger. Even if it would come later.
It was probably coming later.
Anger always got there in the end, with boys like Harrington. Sharp comebacks and sharper right hook always winning out, spurred on by that bone-deep, animal fear of losing your place in the social food chain.
King Steve didn’t seem worried it yet though. Adding to the bizarre hilarity of the situation as he undid his belt and untucked his shirt to the concerned shouts of everyone left in the hall, witnesses to this trainwreck.
If Eddie hadn’t been convinced he’d died and gone to purgatory a minute earlier. He would have been convinced there and then.
As Steve Harrington turned around, bunched his striped polo up high and his khaki’s down low. Stripping down to show the athletic curve of a hip. The dip of a waist that looked small next to his swimmer’s shoulders - almost wide enough to rival Hagan’s - a scattering of moles that dusted across his lower back, framing his mark.
There, on King Steve’s back, bracketed by dimples, low enough to count as a truly slutty tramp stamp sat Eddie’s words. The swooping curves of Tengwar branded into his skin.
“What’s kickin’, Sexy?”
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neopuppy · 8 months
Note
Jaemin would love a good gloryhole, he gives me crazy psychotic vibes
warning. ntm yet.. a smidge of fondling
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“You’re going to work? This late?” Jaemin mumbles, pinching between his eyebrows where he’s sat with his face buried in a pile of books. “Who clocks in at midnight?”
“It’s an overnight job..” you shrug, tightening your coat. “That job fair I went to last week.. it was the only position that wouldn’t interfere with my class schedule.”
Jaemin sighs, leaning back against his computer chair until it creaks beneath his weight. “How are you going to keep up with your assignments?”
“That’s the thing,” clearing your throat nervously, you reply quickly, eager to end this conversation as you appear distracted patting your pockets for the house keys. “Factory prefers college students, don’t want to provide benefits or full-time positions, so the shifts are short, no more than 4 or 6 hours.”
“Oh..” Jaemin stands, stretching out his arms above his head as he approaches you. “I could drive you.”
“No!” You say abruptly, breaking into a smile at the sight of his face falling. “You already do enough for me, and I know you’re cramming for that big test.”
Jaemin waves it off, leaning near the door frame. “It’s not a big deal, I know the couch isn’t comfortable.”
On command at the mere mention of your makeshift bed your back aches, stretching to the side to relieve the pain and releasing a loud crack as you sport half a smile. “It’s not exactly a cloud but..”
“Better than the backseat of your best friend's car.” Jaemin adds, scratching his nape. “I hope at least..”
“Definitely,” you chime, setting your hand on the door handle. “Besides, this is only temporary.”
That’s what you have to remind yourself of daily, that this is just for now. A transition time you’ll forget about as soon as you’ve collected a month's pay. A draining and exhausting effort on your part, but the money..
“Seriously though, if you’re too tired for the walk back, I’ll leave my ringer on.” Jaemin’s hand lays over yours, gently squeezing. “Don’t hesitate to call me.”
“Of course, thanks Jaem.”
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“Let’s not sit where she sleeps.”
“I mean..” Jeno scoffs, folding his knees to sit on the floor with his back against the couch. “It is a place to sit, you know.”
“Don’t be a dick.”
“I’m not.” Unlocking his phone, Jeno settles comfortably, head resting against the couch cushion you rest your head on every night. “You say that like I don’t offer her my bed all the time.”
“Which I’m sure she’d take you up on if you know—“ plopping down by his friend's side shoulder to shoulder, he raises an eyebrow. “You were not also in said bed naked from the waist down.”
Jeno shrugs, passing his phone to Jaemin. “Still beats a couch.”
“What’s this?”
“Something new and exciting that we should try.” Jeno explains, leaning in to scroll down the message board. “Know anything about gloryholes?”
Jaemin nearly chokes on his spit, eyes widening as he reads through the various comments describing the experience. “The fuck are you talking about..”
“You know what I’m talking about.” Jeno grins, reaching to jingle the keys in his pocket. “You down or what?”
“I dunno man..”
“I won’t tell anyone.” Sharing a curious look, Jeno raises his eyebrows up and down, pushing up from the floor to stand and extend his hand. “Just between us.”
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“I don’t understand the point in paying for a quick fuck..” Jaemin says, disgruntled by the lists of prices before him. The trek to find this place was bad enough to begin with, and on tip of that $500 to get his dick wet? By a stranger no less?
“Two for one deal though.” Jeno notes, tapping the larger font with the price of $800 blown out beneath. “Hear me out, send me $250 and I’ll cover the rest.”
“W-what?” Jaemin stutters, surprised at how nonchalant his friend is about this whole situation. “Are you seriously down this bad?”
Jeno scoffs, rolling his eyes. “It’s not like that.” Counting out a wad of bills, he slides them beneath the black tinted window, specifying the two for one deal for them. “Don’t knock it until you try it alright?”
Bending lower near the opening he slid the money through, Jeno whispers. “Number 7 available?”
“You’ve..” Jaemin follows after him, pieces falling together as his friends leads the way through a long hall without question. “You do this a lot or something?”
“Define a lot.” He says, peering over his shoulder with a sleek smirk. “A couple of times.. nothing crazy yet. At least you have me here to make sure your first time is memorable.”
Jeno comes to a stop, dangling a key that’d been tucked between his palm. “Lucky number 7.” He nods to the rooms door, an ominous carved out text painted black glares back at him.
The door lock clicks, pushed open slowly as his friend steps aside for him to head in first. It’s empty for the most part. A few items stacked along a shelf, condoms, lube, sex toys. “Behind that.”
Jeno locks the door shut behind them, motioning toward a hung up drape obscuring the rest of the room. “Would you prefer to go alone? I’ll even let you have dibs since it’s your first visit.”
Jaemin dry swallows, swiping his tongue across his suddenly dry lips. “And do what?”
Jeno’s lips draw back in a cocky smile, shushing his friend as he nudges him forward. “One way to find out.”
Jaemin’s chest thumps, gulping down the invisible weight pressed against the back of his tongue. Slowly he steps forward, barely grazing the drape with his fingertips, the sight of his trembling hand solidifies the nerves shooting throughout his chest, nudged forward softly again as he steps a foot inside past the drape.
“Shit..” he mutters, biting down on his lip to hold back a groan. Three different holes line up the walls leaving his mind to race with nothing but depraved thoughts.
“Pick one.” You say quietly, barely echoed from behind the wall that hides you.
Jaemin’s neck stiffens, toeing his way closer past the smallest of the holes that meets him at hip level. The arrows above directing him where to insert himself.
“Seven.” Jeno speaks up from the drapes opening, closing it shut to lean against the wall. “This is my best friend, he’s a first timer.”
Jaemin’s eyes enlarge, tracing around the top of the largest entrance that can only be for one thing..
“Let him get a taste of what we paid for.”
Jeno moves to stand behind him, chest pressed to his friend's back. “Jesus man, don’t be nervous.” He grins, cupping under Jaemin’s elbow to direct his hand inside past the opening.
“Nothing to be scared of, especially not you.” He whispers, chin hooked on the largers shoulder, breathily laughing when his friend lets out a shocked gasp.
“Fuck.” Jaemin sucks in a breath, digits sliding between a soft warmth. The heat building in his chest erupts upon contact, lodging himself forward with his chest pressed to the wall as his fingers spread and he glides deeper between the familiar wrap of velvety inner thighs around his wrist. “Holy shit.”
“You wanna fuck that slut, right?” Jeno eggs on, patting his hip. “Get her nice and wet for us.”
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thek1ngtalks · 2 years
Text
Prompt: Touching your soulmate leaves a temporary mark that fades after a few hours.
Dream, Tommy, Niki, Wilbur, Eret, Quackity, Ranboo, Fundy
Dream loves leaving thumb stokes, swirling over your cheekbones and brushing down your arms. His hand leaves neon green stains and sometimes he traces obscenes pictures onto your palms just to make you laugh when you notice a few minutes later.
Tommy leaves pastel red smears. Across your back and neck, where he had pulled you closer with his arm. Handprints against your palms, because he really likes holding your hand. He'll draw hearts on your arms and dicks on your face if you fall asleep near him.
Niki draws flowers on your crown. A gentle watercolor pink. Hand prints on your face from where she cupped it, just to admire at you. Your hands are entirely pink because she loves fiddling with them.
Wilbur's handprints are on your shoulders, because he sometimes just claspes them to lead you around in public. They are a soft and dewy blue, a little bit of sunshine. There are spots of blue peaking through your hair because he also likes setting his chin on your head, patting you, pressing his thumb to your crown in a mock simba moment.
Eret is a bright pink mixed with soft hues of purple. They swirl together around your waist. When his hands trail mindlessly over your arms, they're stained magenta for hours. He drops soft kisses on your nose and leaves a bright pink lip stain on your eyelids.
Quackity presses his arms against yours, leaving dewy yellows and deep blues marks that layers over themselves. There are soft brushes across your forehead and over your ears after he tries to push away every strand of baby hair's blocking your face. There are imprints of his head from when he slept across your lap.
Ranboo leaves red and green fingerprints on the back of your hands and arms. Brushes across your back, a few odd spots on your legs when he pokes you with his feet. He likes leaving two stains under your eyes, like eyebags but distinctly unnatural.
Fundy has handprints on your back and knees, because he likes slapping them just to mess with you. Soft rising sun orange lines tracing over your knuckles, wrapping around your palms. A blob with a tail rest on your collarbone, you think he mightve been trying to draw a fox.
{《☆》}
[I really quickly wrote this during passing periods and I will admit, I am starved for affection. This is definitely a cry for help. Please feed me internet likes to curb this horrible medical condition plaguing me.]
[Anyways I have a whole hunking load of soulmate prompts that I apparently wrote down months ago for 500 followers special that I never ended up doing and is now dying in my main acc's drafts. I might go through a few more for fun like I did this one, with short answer prompts for a handful of cc's. Or maybe I'll write official ones longer than 1k, only God knows (and me ig).
[L0v3, k1ng]
Masterlist
Main Acc: @k1ng0fn0b0dy
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ifonlyyuweremine · 5 months
Text
Tough Love
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Smut with a plot nobody asked for.
Overview || Older man König being a dick but we’re trynna get that dick.
(Warnings) Smut, Age gap, soft sex, degradation?, poorly written, praise, size diff, bad grammar, daddy issues if you squint, crying, p in v, power imbalance, mirrors, desperation, covenant plot, semi-public sex, fingering, oral.
I don't know how many words it's just long. 18+
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Being in the military wasn’t easy; nobody had ever said it was. Long, grueling work hours, fixing trucks and tanks you didn’t even know how to operate.
Sleepless nights that left you catching sleep anywhere you could. Training that left your body sore and numb. Yet one man made your life in the force more complicated than necessary. Your Colonel was a man who haunted both your dreams and your hours in the daylight. Putting you through training that exceeded your limits.
He was pushing you to the brim of what you could achieve as a human. He was like a moth drawn to a flame, eyes trained on you. Always you. His rank kept an iron grip on your tongue; never had you wanted to curse out an officer like you did him. He was constantly muttering something in German around you, his voice a low-pitched grunt.
Not only was his training enough to make anyone shiver, but his size alone provoked a kind of unease. The closest thing to a superhuman that you’d ever seen; the fear of him keeping your lips sealed, making you swallow your words and follow his orders like a dog. After all, what was a couple more laps, sets, or chores compared to the punishments he could put you through?
Yet at the same time he ignited a fire inside you, one that bellowed deep within your stomach. Twisting and turning your organs with each step he took. As much as you despised him your subconscious mind had other ideas, ideas buried inside dreams, haunting your nights with his touch.
Rough calloused hands grazing on your skin, wedging between your legs. Breathy groans of relief flooding the shell of your ear. And god, his eyes. His eyes; oh how they would look at you, clouded over like perspiration on a window. Eyebrows knit together in pleasure, your hands cupping his face; tactile touch along his stubble and jaw.
You couldn’t stand it, waking up from those fantasia. Legs tangled inside the sheets of your bed, your chest heaving, and a burning feeling spread across your cheeks and down to your thighs.
Only for you to be torn apart from those fantasies of your Colonel into the harsh realities of daylight. However like all things, this was temporary was it not? A silly little fantasy blooming from your own masochism. It was bound to end.
Right?
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The gym was a good place to blow off steam, and so was the punching bag. A large sack of metal wrapped up in fabric just for your temper. Or lack thereof, holding everything in until it bubbles to the surface only to be released in quick bursts of energy.
Even if it was public and people could see you in all your glory, sweaty, gassed, and irritable. It didn't hinder your fists, rhythmically contacting with the rough, bright red fabric of the bag. Today was a better day; hardly anyone was there. They were keeping to themselves and then wandering back to their barrack. You stayed put. Immersing yourself in the numbness of your spent body.
It had been a collective of instances that had put you here. Firstly a rough start to th morning when you had split the mediocre breakfast onto yourself. Secondly after you had cleaned up there wasn’t much time left before drill runs so you opted out of eating. Big mistake.
People always say breakfast is the most important meal of the day; however, they say it because they mean it. You were irritable and tired, an incessant growling and podding of your stomach for everyone to hear. Your dill instructor also just so happened to be Colonel König. It was almost comical like the universe played an elaborate joke on you. And König being well, König made sure not to go easy on the drills. For being in the military and a colonel at that, he never yelled. He didn't need to, though; his normal voice was enough to command and make your blood run cold.
He eyed you down every step of the way through your drills. His cold blue eyes drilled into your own, and when that was all you could see of his face, make no mistake that those eyes didn't leave you even when he looked away.
You saw those eyes everywhere. His gaze clung to your psyche like sap from a tree. However, they were never as soft in the waking world. You preferred looking at him in your dreams; a spark of life that you couldn't see now when you looked at him.
After exhausting yourself with drills he pulled you aside, crossing his arms and looking down at you. His presence no less menacing than the day before.
“You are cutting back on training.”
It was direct, and straight to the point. Not like you expected anything else. You bit your tongue, “I've been present for each drill Colonel.” You replied plainly, keeping your voice flat.
“Then why are you struggling? Kleines mädchen (little girl), if you are keeping up with your other drill sergeants, you should be able to keep up with me, no?”
His accent rang in your ears, thick inflections rolling off his raspy voice. You swallowed, looking up at him, craning your neck to meet his icy gaze. “I don't know, Colonel, I'm trying, Sir. Believe me, I am.” You breathe, holding back a slew of profanities and excuses you knew he wouldn't accept behind your tongue.
He chuckled, cold and dry like his words. Eyes narrowing in on you, “You don't know?” he clicked his tongue, each one echoing through your eardrum.
“Das ist nicht gut (that is no good), [name] I train soldiers. Not fragile little mice. I know you are a capable young woman. So next time you come here, you train like a soldier. Is that acceptable, maus (mouse)?”
His words made your blood boil, and pursing your lips together you nodded. You nodded like a good soldier, “Yes Colonel.”
His eyes crinkled a little, not as if he was smiling but as if he was smirking. “Good. You're dismissed.” He murmured. You couldn't help how your eye twitched and your jaw clenched. Something that the giant man didn't miss.
You winced, repeatedly striking a metal bag for hours did end up coming back to bite you in the ass. Stepping back for a breath, the sound of your heavy breathing was the only sound you could hear besides the incessant ringing in your head. Running a hand through your hair, your scalp sweaty. Your whole body felt like it was on fire, you never understood how easily König got under your skin. His words cut deep, and it ignited something. A need to please.
You wanted him to like you, you wanted his snide comments and belittling remarks to stop. You wanted his praise, his pride, his approval. And you hated that you wanted it.
Everyone else seemed to like you, so why couldn't he? Why couldn't he see you were trying? How hard you had worked?
You punched the bag again and again. You grunted each time your fist hit the fabric. Wishing it was him, his body, his face, his eyes. You couldn't hear and couldn't think, wanting to dull your senses until you were dumbed down enough that you forgot what you were angry about.
“Enjoying yourself?”
You jumped a little, stumbling forward and looking over your shoulder. The hairs on the back of your stood up. You knew the voice, the rasp, the accent. Königs large figure met your eye, looming behind you like a statue. You panted.
“What?” You looked at him quizically, your body frozen like a deer in headlights.
He chuckled, walking closer to you. “You can punch that bag with such rigor yet you fall short during my drills.”
You breathed, an airy silence filled the open room. You could feel your heart beating, a soft thumping that filled the silence of the now empty gym. König didn’t wait for you to respond.
“Your stance is off; you’ll hurt your back and hands if you punch like that dummes mädchen (silly girl).” He hummed casually.
You blinked; it was this again. Your eyes narrowed up at him, your posture straightening. “Thanks, Colonel, but I don't want your input.” You breathe, feeling a sudden tension strike between you and the large man in front of you.
König shrugged, his gaze never leaving your eye. His stare was almost cockly, arrogant. Like he knew he made your skin crawl. If only he knew how much he made your skin crawl. “I was not inputting on your stance, I'm telling you that it's bad. And that you're going to fix it.” He said calmly.
You tensed a little. Was this man serious? You didn't know if one man could have a more significant power trip than he did. You bit your tongue, something you felt you did frequently when he was around you.
“Turn around.”
You obeyed. The quicker you get this over with, the better. Or maybe someone would walk into the gym to take König away. You could only hope as you turned around to face the punching bag, raising your arms to a stance.
The hairs on your neck stood as you felt a warm body press against your back. You felt it, his warmth, his breathing, his gear; it ignited something. That familiar low buzz from your lower body. Like vibrating a strange frequency between comfortability and unease. A large hand rested on the small of your back, pushing lightly, making your stomach turn.
“You're hunched over too much. No wonder you struggle with posture.” He chuckled, low and throaty. You felt the vibrations of his voice against the shell of your ear.
You swallowed, suddenly feeling your throat get dry. The jab at you didn't mean anything anymore with how you felt his large fingertips pressing against your spine. You involuntary arched your back a little, something that he didn't miss.
“Sensibles kleines ding, nicht wahr (sensitive little thing, aren't we)?”
König murmured; it was in German. You only ever caught bits and pieces of his speech. His other hand ghosted over your elbow, raising it. “You also need to raise your arms; it's no good fighting if someone can strike your head.”
You were slowly becoming hyperaware of everything around you. The sound of Königs breathing, his gear pressed against your neck, his hand on the small of your back. You memorized every detail of his touch; for such a large and dickish brute that he was, his touch was gentle.
“I know you despise me maus (mouse), but I am only ever looking out for your best interest.”
You faulted. He knew? You figured that lying wasn't going to do you good because you did despise him. You hated him. And yet you responded to his touch, even more so you leaned into it. You craved it so much that you dreamed of it. “What gave me away huh?” You breathed.
A low rumble came from his throat again. Raising your other arm, “You are… not very good at hiding emotions, ja (yes)? You tense your jaw and fists when you speak to me; I have noticed you bite your tongue a fair bit around me as well.”
Well, he got you there, but König continued. “Out of everyone here, though, you are the hardest to figure out. Even as you wear your emotions on your sleeve.”
You narrowed your eyes in confusion, letting his large hand guide your movements like a doll. “I don't know what you mean,” you asked.
His hand started to ghost down your arm and over to your jaw. König grabbed your face between his thumb and fingers, his large hand gripping your cheek effectively shutting you up. And you let him.
“You seem to hate me more than anyone, yet I can always feel your eyes on me. And the fact is if you hated me as you do, you wouldn't try so hard to improve; you wouldn't seek my approval.” He murmured.
Your stomach twisted into knots, and he held you like putty. Melting in his hands, “So tell me [name], do you want my approval?”
The buzzing continued; it rang in your ears, and it sent waves through your core. Your eyes were wide, and you could feel your heart pumping in your chest. You were like a deer in headlights; Königs grip on your jaw loosened to help you speak. Everything was quiet. The only sound was your heart racking through your ribs.
König was getting impatient with the silence, his other hand grabbing your hip and squeezing.
“Tell me the truth mädchen (girl).”
You nodded slowly. It was as if you were processing your answer as you nodded. Inhaling shakily, “I do.” you murmured.
“You do what [name]?” He corrected, forcing your head up.
“I want your approval.”
There it was, that obedience that he loved oh so much. If you were good at anything, it was following orders. His upper lip curved up. He laughed softly, squeezing your face In his hands. “See? Was that so hard, maus (mouse)?”
You didn't respond, feeling a twinge of shame. Your body was recoiling in on itself. Your lips formed a soft frown, and your eyes faltered as they were forced to meet him.
He caught this and shook his head, clicking his tongue, “No, no, none of that Schatz (Darling), you said you wanted my approval no?”
You nodded, swallowing your pride. “Gut (good), you listen, and you get my praise. So, can you listen liebling (love)?”
You nodded again, feeling a warmth pooling in your stomach, your cheeks reddening. König tightened his grip on your cheek, “Say it.”
“I'll listen, promise.” You manage out.
He smirked, Königs large hand trailing to the front of your abdomen. “Braves mädchen (good girl), I have no doubt you'll be a good listener. You're already an exceptional soldier, aren't you? While stubborn, yes, but you're an obedient little thing.”
Your stomach tightened, his words filling your ear like music. His hand felt warm as it ran along your shirt. He gripped your body and forcefully moved you to the side so the both of you faced the large mirror wall. Your cheeks flushed at seeing yourself in such a state, as well as seeing Konig's large form pressed against your back, staring at you through the mirror.
“Do you know why I am hard on you [name]?”
You thought for a moment, coming up empty-handed with an answer. “No, I don't know.” You breathe. His hand snaking to your belt.
König leaned down a little, his mouth beside the shell of your ear. You could feel his breath against you, and it drove you mad. “I want what's best for you, maus (mouse), but you rely on others too much. So, someone needed to toughen you up, no? It's just tough love engel (angle).”
Your breath hitched as his hand undid your belt. Königs other hand was still holding your face; it was as if time was moving slower. You watched his movements from the mirror's reflection, the way his eyes stared directly at you through the glass. His eyes weren't like in your dreams, but they didn't look like how they usually did either.
They were darker and more concentrated. Königs pupils dilated, and his irises a greyer hue.
“König, there could be someone around Sir-” You were hushed by the feeling of his fingers sliding over your pelvis, trailing against the fabric of your underwear.
He hummed and looked at you through the mirror, “There is no one. Trust me, engel (angel), just stay put and look pretty for me.” König murmured, his lips against your temple covered by his sniper hood. His middle and ring fingers start to move in slow, sultry circles around your covered bud.
You inhaled; it was shaky. Your stomach jumped as his fingers sent feverish currents of electricity through your body. Your thighs tense, and you blushed, trying to look anywhere but in front of you, knowing you would be greeted by the lewd sight of Königs fingers dancing around your panties. Your hand grabbed his arm for support, and he chuckled grabbing your face harder and forcing your jaw and eyes back to the mirror.
“Don't look away. You look away, and I stop,” He rasped. You looked at yourself, practically put on display for your higher officer. Hips jittering forward as the pad of his fingers brushed and circled over your clit.
König smiled and let go of your face, the same hand trailing down to your chest. He grasped your breast, his larger hand squeezing and prodding at it like a stress ball.
“So verdammt hübsch (so fucking pretty),” König put more pressure on his fingers, digging into your bud. Smiling as you whined quietly, “Look at you, so eager. You hate me, but you can't resist letting me play with this perfect cunt of yours.”
You hated that it was true; you hated him, but God did his fingers feel good. A slick spot started to develop around your panties, accompanied by your red face and heavy breathing. You were getting worked up by barely anything, yet it was better than anything you'd ever experienced. And König seemed to pick up on this rather quickly.
He raised an eyebrow and smirked, “Tell me, engel (Angel), tell me, have you ever let a man do this to you?”
You swallowed, watching through the mirror as his fingers slid up and down the fabric of your soaked panties. You shook your head, “No… I've fooled around with other guys, but nobody has ever done…” You trailed off, breath hitching again as his other hand pinches your nipple through the fabric of your clothes.
König hummed, “I figured so; you fool around with little boys liebste (sweetheart), not men. None of them know their way around. They don't know how to please you, do they?”
You whimper as he slips a finger down your panties, the pad of his middle finger coming in contact with your needy clit. Circling it, gathering your arousal with his strokes. You shake your head, looking at yourself. “No- they don't,” you choke out.
You looked like a skank in your mind, submitting so quickly to him—his hand down your underwear and one on your breast.
He smiled, “Good thing I'm not a little boy.”
Suddenly, he slipped one of his fingers into your eager little cunt. You choke out a surprised moan, your voice echoing off the walls of the empty gym. His finger was enormous; it almost hurt. And you shivered at the thought that just one of his fingers stretched you out.
“Scheiße (fuck), such a tight pussy.” He laughed lowly as he lazily drew his finger out and pushed it back in. He drank in how your gummy walls clenched and twitched around him. “M’gonna have to stretch you out.” He chuckled.
You grappled at his arm as he pumped his finger in and out. You squeezed your eyes shut and let out sweet whines and moans. König promptly withdrew his finger and flicked at your bud, causing a sharp pang of both pain and pleasure that shot your eyes open.
“Hey, what did I say? Eyes open while I work this pretty cunt open.” He ordered, and you whined. Your eyes pool with soft tears from the shock.
You nodded, and he slipped his finger back in, gently working in his ring finger. You squeaked, panting as you watched his fingers through the fabric of your panties. “König, s’too big-” you whined.
He shushed you and pressed a masked kiss to your temple, letting his second finger slide entirely in, scissoring you open. “Shh, it's not too big; trust me, engel (Angel), you're just not used to it yet.” He hushed, pumping his two fingers in at a steady pace.
You felt your thighs shaking a little, watching your reflection as he worked you open. König murmured words of praise into your ear as he did so.
“That's it [name], braves mädchen (good girl). Take it; take my fingers. Let me stretch this perfect cunt out.”
You let out a moan, feeling a burning pleasure building in your core. Your hips began to stutter, bucking into his hands. You covered your mouth with your hand, trying to muffle your moans and cries of pleasure.
König quickly took your hand away from your mouth, “No, no, don't you dare do that. Let me hear you, engel (Angel), let me hear those pretty fucking moans.”
You felt yourself coming undone, your thighs clamping down. A tightness was blooming in your stomach; you could barely hold yourself up as it was. Almost impaling yourself on Königs fingers.
“König, fuck- I can't, m’gonna cum.” You whimpered, your body tensing up.
At that, he forced his fingers deeper, finding that pillowy spot inside you as he curled his fingers, finding your g-spot. “Go ahead, schatz (darling), come for me. Look at me in that mirror; look at who's making you cum.”
You felt light for a moment, and König watched in satisfaction as your mouth formed that ‘o shape he loved so much.
Your legs quivered as it hit you, crashing down on you like a wave. It was too much, the pads of his fingers digging into your G-spot, his large fingers stretching your cunt out oh so nicely. You screamed, the noise bouncing off the walls. Your head thrown back into Königs chest.
That was the first time a man had made you come on his fingers alone.
You came back down into reality after a couple of long seconds. Almost falling due to your limp legs, luckily König held you up. Withdrawing his fingers from your spent cunt and holding your hips. He chuckled and pressed a kiss through his hood to your ear, neck, and temple.
“So good, took it so well, didn't you?” He whispered you looked messy. Your clothes are messy, and your eyes are glazed with the remanence of that hazy pleasure. Your own slick was dripping down your thighs. 
You teetered in his hands like jello. König looked down at you, “You're almost ready, I would say.”
Looking up at him confused, your eyes furrowed and eyebrows knit together. “Almost?” You repeated. Almost slurring your words.
He nodded, grabbing you by your hips and hoisting you up. Turning you around and walking towards the mirrored wall. “Yes, did you think you'd be ready after just my fingers?” He mused, lifting you so your legs were wrapped around his torso.
You blushed, feeling a little dense. “Well… yes?” You said feeling your back hit the wall.
König let out a throaty laugh, “Engel (Angel), I appreciate your eagerness, but I'm a large man, no? And your cunt could barely take my fingers; what makes you think you could take my cock?”
You looked away sheepishly, “Don't worry, this will feel good too. I'm not withholding anything from you that you need.” König hummed.
He slid off your pants and your dirty underwear, leaving your bottom half barren. Holding you by your thighs and your back pressed against the mirror, he looked at you. “Take off the top, and the bra too.”
You obeyed, sliding off your remaining clothing. After you were barren of your garments, he took you in. “Gott schau dich an (God look at you), the prettiest body I've ever seen” König breathed.
You felt your cheeks burning at his praise, this was wrong. You would be in deep if the both of you got caught, yet that look in his eyes made you crave more of him. Something real, he was real and he was in front of you.
“Promise to hold on ja (yes)? I won’t drop you.” He breathed, you looked at him in confusion.
“Hold on?”
Before you could do anything he hoisted you up again, throwing your thighs over his shoulder. The mirror behind you pressed against your back. You yelped, caught off guard.
You were high up, almost like a game of chicken. Your face burned as you saw your core inches away from his hood. König held you behind and your thighs, keeping you in place. “König, what are you doing?” you squeaked.
He looked up at you, his eyes crinkling. “I thought it was pretty obvious, no? I want my fill, too. Why not make this a pleasurable experience for the both of us?” He hummed, reaching up to his hood and lifting it past his nose.
His lips curved into a smile, a small scar carved into his upper lip. Königs jaw was sharp, peeks of stubble over his chin and jaw, some of it greying at the edges.
The stubble on his face pressed into your thighs, making it tickle. Your breath hitched, and you felt your stomach do a small flip; you could feel his breath on your core, and it made you shiver.
“Scheiße (fuck), can't wait to taste this perfect cunt.”
Before you could protest, he buried his face into your core. König licked a strip down your slit. Making you mewl, your thighs clenching around his head.
Due to your previous activity, you were already soaked. Königs mouth was covered in your arousal; he hummed as he pushed his tongue inside your swollen folds. The vibrations of his voice sent shockwaves through your spine.
You moaned, and your hands shot to his hood, grasping at the material on the top of his head. “Oh, oh fuck,” you whined, throwing your head back into the wall.
It felt too good. The feel of Königs mouth was like heaven; he moaned into your pussy while his fingers dug into the meat of your thighs and behind. He drew up for air before focusing his attention on your needy clit.
Your back arched in surprise, and you gasped out a lewd moan. Your fingers dug into the fabric of his hood as he sucked and pressed open-mouth kisses to your bud of nerves. It was a lot.
Hot tears pooled into the corners of your eyes from overstimulation. Your thighs clasping as his head, you tried to push his head away from your clit, but he was relentless.
König looked at you the entire time, watching eagerly to see each twitch, moan, and tear.
After another minute, he detached from your cunt. His breathing labored, and his chin covered in your slick. He groaned and pressed a kiss to your spent clit. “You taste so good, engel (angel), sweetest pussy I've had.”
You caught your breath, letting out a soft whimper, “don't stop, please.” you whine.
König raised an eyebrow and laughed, “So bedürftig (so needy).” He readjusted himself, making you bounce on his shoulder. He spit on your cunt and plunged his lips back into you. Moaning as his tongue slipped in and out of your clenching hole.
You yelped and whimpered, rolling your hips into his face. As you did, he tightened his hold on your thighs, “Mhfp- yes, just like that liebe (love), roll those pretty hips.” He groaned against your soaked folds.
You could feel that familiar coil tighten in your stomach. Staring to blabber and whine, your thighs fighting around his head.
As soon as König felt that you were on the brink of cumming he pulled his mouth away. You whimpered at the loss, bucking your hips needily at the loss of his touch. Looking down at him with a fucked out expression, eyebrows knit together in confusion. “Why’d you stop?” you whine.
König licked his lips, looking up at you. “Es tut mir leid Liebe (I’m sorry, love), but I can't wait.” He breathed with a grin.
Quickly, he grabbed your thighs and hoisted you down until you were even with him. He was holding your butt with one hand and unbuckling his belt with the other.
You didn't have the heart to complain at the loss of his mouth when you knew his cock was waiting.
König managed to unzip his pants and then pull down his boxers, taking his length into his hand. You swallowed.
It was big; he wasn't kidding when he said you needed that prep. Your eyes were locked on his hard cock pulsing in his hand. It had to be at least seven inches, maybe eight. The reddened mushroom tip was sticky with his precum. Your eyes trailed down, watching the vein that ran down to the base of his pelvis and his heavy balls.
König chuckled as he watched your eyes, completely enamored with his dick. König stroked himself a few times so he could fully harden, making you blush just watching it.
He smiled and kissed your temple softly, “Don't get shy on me now, engel (angel).” He rasped.
“That thing will not fit; it will split me open.” You breathed, and he laughed at that. “I'll make it fit.”
You looked at him, your eyes a mix of unease and need—a paradoxical combination that left even you confused about what you wanted. But the way he left your cunt wanting, you didn't think you could leave without it.
“Promise to go slow, okay?” you asked him. König nodded. “Promise hübsches mädchen (pretty girl).” He whispered back to you; he then slowly dragged his hard cock along your puffy cunt. Making you squirm as the tip collected your slick.
König then pushed the fat tip into you; immediately, you whined, and your hands dug into his shoulder. Your back pressed against the mirror, and your thighs tightened around his abdomen.
He slowly pushed his hips into you inch by inch. It was a mix between pain and pleasure, feeling a tightness in your cunt as König stretched out your gummy walls.
He looked up at you once you were halfway, “Gut fühlen (feeling good)? Can I keep going?”
You nodded and breathed out, “Yeah, keep going.” You whimpered.
Fuck, it all felt so good, his hands slotted at your back and thighs. His cock pushing into you at an agonizing pace. König hisses as he plunges himself fully into you, his hips pressed against yours. “Mein Gott (my god), that's it.” He groaned.
“Oh mein Gott, verdammt (oh my god, fuck), tightest pussy I've had.” König breathes, his hands squeezing the flesh of your hip and thigh. You felt full; his fleshy tip prodded against your sweet spot. This was different than his fingers or his mouth. This felt addictive, the way your cunt pulled him in, the way you melded into him like you were made for his cock.
You felt your head fall back against the mirror, sucking in breaths and moans each time he pulsed inside your cunt. “König, need you to move.” you gasped.
He nodded, lifting your hips and then dropping them down while bucking up into you at the same time, using you like a human fleshlight. You screamed.
He immediately set a pace, not slow, but not fast either. It was like he was testing the waters on how much you could take. And god, did you want everything. You wanted it more than air.
His cock slipped in and out of your pulsating cunt, a squelching noise sucking him back in every time he forced himself back in. The both of you were a mess, grunting and gasping for air. König slotted his face inside the crook of your neck so he could whisper his profanities into your ear while he speared you with his cock.
“Dir gefällt das, nicht wahr (you like this, don't you)? Come on, hübsches Mädchen (pretty girl). Tell me how much you love this dick.”
His hips rammed up into you, the tip of him pushing up into your cunt, making you yelp. You were barely processing what he said, “Feels so good, fuck you feel so good König.” You cry out.
This spurred him on further, his hands forcing you down at a much more brutal pace. König was splitting you open, and you couldn't be more willing to take it. You took it so well, wet cunt fluttering around him.
The sounds the both of you made echoed across the gym's walls. The grunts and moans, the wet slapping of his balls against your body, and the lewd noises of you soaking his dick in your own arousal.
The mirror that you were pressed up against was fogged in the shape of your ass and back. Yet you didn't care; all you could think about was the giant of a man desperately plunging his needy cock into your swollen pussy.
“God, do you know how long I've wanted to do this? Huh? To fuck you on my cock? Every damn time I looked at you, I wanted you.” He hissed, bucking his hips up into you.
You felt dizzy; you couldn't process his words. You were too fucked out. He noticed this and chucked, followed by a moan—his breath melding against the curve of your neck. “Dummes Mädchen (dumb girl), can't even think now, can you? Too drunk off this dick.” He grunted.
Your hands held his shoulders, nails digging into his clothes. “Making a mess of my fucking pants.” he breathed.
There it was again. You felt the familiar coil within your body. You were close, “König- gonna cum. Can't hold it,” you cried out. Your thighs were clenching around his abdomen. He nodded, “I know, scheiße (fuck), I know. Come on, do it for me; come on this cock.”
You screamed his name, a tidal wave of electricity running through your body. Your cunt fluttered around him, gushing perfectly around his cock. It was like you saw white, your eyes rolling back as he pounded through your orgasm. Your toes curling and your legs straightening out.
König moaned as you creamed around his dick. He felt it, too. His digits dug into your skin, “Engel (Angel), tell me where. Fuck tell me where you want it.” he gasped.
You almost didn't respond, almost in another world entirely, as his hips pounded into your spent cunt. You felt a thousand things at once, “I-Inside, I'm clean.” you choked out.
At that, he came, his hips stuttering, letting out a long breathy moan. He coated your pussy white, a warmth spreading through your hole. He lazily thrust a few more times before just staying put. Gasping for air as he twitched and slowly softened in your cunt.
The two of you stayed there for a few minutes, basking in the afterglow. Then König raised his head from your neck to look at you; his eyes were clouded through his hood. “Hey süßes mädchen (sweet girl), you with me?” he murmured. Holding your hips while he stayed inside, enjoying the warmth of your pussy.
You nodded lazily, your breathing still heavy. “Mhm, I'm with you.”
He nodded and looked at you, “Atta girl, took me so well, engel (angel).” you smiled at the praise feeling a low buzzing in your body that spread over you like a blanket. You let your head fall into his collarbone. “I can't feel my legs,” you giggled softly.
König held you a little tighter, “Like a good ‘I can't feel my legs’? Or a bad one?” He asked you and you hummed in response.
“Good, I think. But I'm not going to be able to walk.”
He grinned, “Well, that was kinda the idea, süßes mädchen (sweet girl).” You could only smile softly; you knew this was probably a wrong decision to do this again, but you couldn't care less at that moment. “I still hate you, by the way,” you murmured playfully into his collar. He chuckled, his fingers rubbing soothing circles around your hips.
“Look who's giving tough love now?” He mused.
Maybe that was all it was between you, tough love. Some unresolved tension that ate away at the both of you until it boiled over. But at that moment, you didn't mind. It was better not to think about that. For now, you just wanted to be.
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Hi, this is my first work. I'm not sure if I like it; it's rather bad. I haven't been on Tumblr that long, so I'm still getting everything sorted out. I'm not much of a writer, and I've never posted any works. If people like it, I'll probably write more, but otherwise, I don't see much of a point. This was kind of a one-off thing. But if you found it mildly entertaining, then I'm happy. And if you did make it this far, then thank you: much love, and happy holidays.
<3
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