#i think there are other versions of them with a more switch/dom reader that changes the dynamic does that make sense | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tavyliasin · 1 year ago

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Urges Bared Before The Dawn - Abdirak x Gortash x gn!Durge One Shot

Enver Gortash has recently been meeting with Durge after many years apart, but they are struggling to find peace in their mind, to find any of the memories they shared beneath that. They're clearly still interested in him, but this isn't a problem that can be solved alone.

Durge recalls a priest of Loviatar, Abdirak, and how he helped them before - pain and punishment had brought about a sense of peace that they longed for, one that Enver knew in his heart should be possible by his hand alone. He agrees to pay the dark cleric for his services, and so the three find themselves in Gortash's chambers with an array of tools and a whole night to find a way through the shroud over Durge's memory. 6,341 Words

Click Here for AO3 Version Pairing: Gortash x Durge x Abdirak SPICE Rating: 5/5 Content Warnings and Tags: Power play, BDSM, Power Exchage, Blood, Wound Detail, Whipping, Chains, Bondage, Predicament Bondage, Sounding, Temperature Play (hot water, ice), Sensation Play, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Cockwarming (mild), Dom/sub, switching, biting

Spoilers Not a lot. Some reference to shared pasts and Gortash/Durge relationship dynamics Canon Compliance Loose at best. This is more interesting. Other Notes ...I made it sound nice in the summary, this is pure BDSM smut, mind those tags and don't be too surprised by the aftertaste of emotion~ And my Beta reader's assessment of that note there is that it's an accurate representation (though I may be downplaying the emotion a little)

(Youtube link click here) Song Pairing Killer Inside Of Me by Willyecho "Think you're a God Yeah but tonight Let's see if you bleed like one You call the shots, but that's all you got I'm gonna call your bluff 'Cause something happens when you fan the flames I'm like an animal inside a cage, but I'm gonna break out these chains You're gonna wish you never held me down I feel it rush through my veins Yeah, this adrenaline has kicked in now There's a killer inside of me"

Full One Shot below the cut! --- ---

Urges Bared Before The Dawn

Abdirak looked on with approval at the chains holding the pale Dragonborn. They were facing the wall, arms held above them, ankles spread apart, even their tail bound off to the side. To his side, Gortash huffed impatiently.

“Why are we hesitating? This is exactly what they requested. I am well aware of what they desire, isn’t that right my dear?” The self-proclaimed Archduke stepped forwards, running the sharp edge of a golden claw down Durge’s spine, smiling at the growl that rumbled forth through their throat.

“Yes,” they agreed, “yet also no .”

“What do you mean no ? We have danced to this tune a hundred times or more by my memory, even if yours has decided to vacate that pretty little head - why change the steps now?” The metal bit deeper, staining pale scales red.

Abdirak pulled the man back, a low warning. “You would do well to listen, should you care for the mind within that body. Pain without purpose…” He shook his head. “The agreement was for you to learn, and if you cannot do that you will bear your own penance tenfold.”

“Fine, Priest. What would you have me do?” Gortash snarled, yet still stepping aside.

“First, you watch.” He moved closer to the Dragonborn again, pressing a single pale finger against the cut that the gauntlet had left.

Durge moaned, pressing their body against the cold stone of the wall.

“What is it you wish for, dear one? The whip? The cane? Perhaps the flat of a heated blade?” He added more pressure, deepening the cut and adding a bruise beneath.

“I trust your judgement.” Their reply was coloured by another pleased sound echoing deep in their throat, savouring the pain until it was withdrawn.

“Very well.” Abdirak turned away picking over a table of tools to select what was best. “These should do nicely.” He handed one of the identical flails to Gortash, observing how the man took a moment to inspect the barbed tips of each strand.

“Is this not a predictable tool? I had heard your methods were more… imaginative .” Golden gauntlets raked through the flail as if caressing the hair of a lover, reverent of the potential despite his attitude. “An experienced hand can turn even the most basic of implements into an instrument of the finest art.” The whip flicked with a smooth and swift motion of his wrist, the ends of the tails snapping against the upper thigh of the bound participant, a slight whine escaping their lips. “Do not hold back, dear one, let the Maiden hear you sing to her with your pain.”

“Let me hear you.” Gortash interjected, impatience clear in his voice.

“You think yourself above a goddess?” He frowned, turning to observe the dark haired man whose eyes were fixed on the quivering knees of his lover.

“And you think yourself an expert on the whims of deities?” The reply came with an indignant scoff, followed by three swift whips of the flog.

The first drew a breathy gasp from Durge, but the other two wrought only silence from their lungs. Abdirak stayed the lord’s hand before a fourth strike could follow.

“Patience, Enver.” He warned, his grip tightening on the metal clad wrist enough for both to feel the edge of pain. “Perhaps you do have knowledge of the divine that I have yet to discover, but pain is clearly not your greatest skill. You must use finesse, draw it out properly. It is no race to be won, no prize to conquer in your haste.”

—

The casual use of given names did not escape Gortash, nor did it fail to raise his ire, but even he could see how Durge was no longer trembling in anticipation. Instead, they had twisted their head to show him their frown, their displeasure - there were few insults that could’ve been greater. “As you wish.” He tore his hand from Abdirak’s grasp and folded his arms, glaring between the two.

The priest did not lash out with the flail again. Instead, he draped the strands over the base of Durge’s tail, drawing it slowly back so the length dragged across their scales. Their back arched, such as it could from how they were bound, body pressing against the wall with a hiss as the barbed ends caught on their pale flesh.

Just when he was certain they would be bored by the lack of pain, he noticed Abdirak’s expression change. The flail connected with a deeper impact this time, striking the same spot that had felt a far gentler caress mere moments ago. Durge keened, their hips pressing against the wall, and when their lungs had filled once more the priest struck again on their upper back this time.

Pricks of blood coloured white scales with the stain of violence, the thought alone leaving Enver grateful that his jacket left his chest exposed to the cool air of the room. The scant outfit that Abdirak wore was also making more sense as the heat within him rose.

“Excellent, dear one! That’s it, let the pain flow through you!” Another pause and the whip bit into the back of Durge’s leg, a howl following it that drew a loud laugh from the wielder.

“I see.” He mused, one hand rising to caress his chin in idle thought. “It is not simply the impact but the anticipation that is required.”

“So you can learn, despite the pride.” Abdirak doled out another two strikes, the rattle of the chains mixing with a longer moan from the one writhing within their bonds. “Then I may allow you to try again, see if you can bring forth their pain properly this time.”

Enver paused, battling the urge to tell the priest where to take that impudent attitude. That particular fight was easily won by the need to hear that voice again, their voice. Did it matter who heard their pleasured pain? No. Not if he could be its cause.

—

The cold of the wall and the stone floor beneath their bare feet was grounding. The intermittent screaming in their mind, a blend of the unwelcome voice and memories of torture seared into their very bones, was growing quieter. The way Gortash… Enver looked upon their naked body, bound like an animal, with that hunger glowering in his dark eyes… Durge felt his gaze like hot fire licking across their skin, searing lust held tight behind well practised poise.

Abdirak, too, was eyeing them with some interest. His ice cold gaze was different, though. Like the first time they had met, he saw a different purpose to their game. His own pleasure was not coming from the arousal that stirred deep in the pit of their belly, but in the connection to Loviatar, and the comfort in knowing that pain had its purpose in soothing their deeper agonies.

The breath was once again pulled from their lungs as Enver’s arm arced, unseen, to bring the barbed flail to bear on their flank. Hot and bright sensation burned into the spreading warmth of pleasure, adrenaline smothering the creeping doubts in the back of their mind. This was safe. The two behind them were both safe so long as they were bound, the voice driven back by the exquisite-

The next blow to their rear felt far more targeted as their moan almost carried the syllables of his name on their tongue. “Env- aaaah!”

He was at their side in an instant, claws at their chin, his lips stealing a kiss hotter than the pain that lanced through them as Abdirak’s flail struck their exposed arms. “I am right here. Say it. Say it again.”

He must have been signalling to the priest this time, as the strike hit a full second after he had prevented their reply with his lips on theirs. “Enver-” They moaned through the pain and into his kiss, tongue hot with the hint of smoke, the taste bitter and earthy like liquor and spice. It was…familiar. Intoxicating. Their tongue fought his, while his claws dug into their ribs and the whip came down on their lower back.

—

Abdirak admired his own handiwork. The crimson blemishes were a perfect partner to the pale scales of the Dragonborn’s body. They were clearly aroused, their hips pressing towards the wall to seek even the slightest bit of friction for their satisfaction. Of course, the ambitious man by their side was obviously hoping for this result with how eagerly he devoured their tongue in a show of pure passion. No matter, Loviatar’s embrace had more strength in her grip than lust’s hedonism alone. Not that he was immune to that particular vice, either, the lower half of his robes barely hiding anything. Not that anyone’s eyes were on him, nor would he be bothered if they were. Pain and pleasure… The two were as inseparable as the Archduke and his Assassin.

The flail was losing its effectiveness now, so it was time to change the game; it could not become stale after all. Loviatar demanded her offering as much as his own desire demanded satisfaction. Abdirak threw the key to Gortash’s feet, the slight scowl at the veiled insult pleasing him almost as much as the growing anticipation.

“Turn them around. They must face us for what is to follow.” He turned away, sorting through his bag for the tools he wanted. “Ah, but this time leave their tail free.”

He could hear the indignant huff from the human before the clink of chains marked that his orders were indeed being followed carefully. When he returned to the pair he carried three flasks and a narrow, hollow rod.

Two bottles clinked on the stone as he set them down on the floor, keeping only the smaller of them in his hand with the rod. The latter he held before the Dragonborn, watching their eyes light with recognition. “Tell me, dear one, are you resistant to the cold?”

“I am.” They nodded quietly. “And…I agree.”

“Excellent.” Abdirak smiled approvingly, the cantrip forming easily in his mind.

“What is it, exactly, that you are planning to do with that?” Gortash was challenging him again, though this time with more curiosity than annoyance.

Threads of the Weave answered the simple call of the spell, crystals of frost spreading up the length of the metal rod. “This will add to their pleasure.” He stated simply, glancing down to where the Dragonborn was fully erect and twitching with anticipation. “And, most likely, to your own.”

The cork of the bottle was easily unstoppered by his teeth, the oil trickling down the iced surface that was already burning his own fingers with the cold. He knelt, almost reverently, in front of his willing prisoner, pouring a little more oil where it would soon be needed.

“Enver. Kneel.” He indicated the space next to him, looking up at the scowl on the man’s features as he silently refused. “Or would you rather I be more intimate with your lover before you?”

“Insolent-” Gortash began, quickly changing his mind before Abdirak’s fingers could touch a single inch of the Dragonborn’s skin. There was a slight groan as the proud Archduke sank to his knees. “They are mine . You are a guest , here by their whims alone.”

“So you say.” Abdirak held the metal rod out, almost loath to have the aching cold leave his fingertips. He indicated the rigid and quivering tip of the Dragonborn, whose tail was tapping at the ground with nervous anticipation. “Slowly. A little at a time, but when you are done it must only leave this much exposed. Use more oil should you need it.”

—

Gortash was not fond of taking orders, nor was he pleased with the growing ache in his knee. An old injury, one that did not trouble him much, but the stone floor was not a place of comfort. He considered if the smirking priest knew, and intended this discomfort as another offering to his vile goddess, but it mattered little. Durge wanted this, wanted him . That was not something to be ignored. He hesitated at first. One hand braced on their hip, claws barely digging into their skin, the initial inch barely slipping in as he felt their body quiver. It was their tail on his back, however, that encouraged him to push further despite the hiss of pain from above.

Enver worked carefully, pressing in further before drawing back, adding a little more oil, soothing them with small circles drawn on their hip with his thumb. All the while the priest remained at his side, watching, muttering his approval, and denying any further touch until the hollow rod was fully placed as instructed.

Abdirak looked up towards their captive, a slight smile once again playing at the corners of thin lips. “There. Do you feel it, dear one? The cold battling the heat of your body, the pressure within, the edge of pain tugging at your senses?”

Above them, Durge audibly swallowed, throat dry and slightly hoarse. They nodded, and Enver felt their tail curl around his leg like an embrace, holding the area where the pain was worse… He wondered if they knew, if they remembered… Impossible. Probably.

“Excellent.” The priest continued, without awaiting further response from either of them. “Tap it, if you so please - they will feel it.”

Enver complied experimentally, not bothering with how easily Abdirak was ordering him around. All that mattered was how sweet the moan was as he tapped sharply on the end of the hollow rod.

Abdirak finally stood, taking the two bottles he had set down earlier with him. To Gortash’s surprise, the priest offered a hand to help him up. “This one,” he took the bottle held out to him, its contents glowing slightly, glass cool to the touch. “This one they must drink, all of it, if you would be so kind.”

“You heard him, my dear. It is quite safe.” Enver knew a potion of fire resistance when he held one, though its purpose was the part that he found more intriguing. He ran a clawed thumb along the edge of his lover’s lips, willing them to part as he unstoppered the bottle with his teeth. “Perhaps you would trust it more from a more fitting chalice for your station.”

—

Durge would’ve drained the bottle without a second thought. They both knew that, but this… They did not wish to argue as Enver kissed the potion into their mouth bit by bit, moaning against his tongue as he tapped the rod that pressed deep inside against nerves that were screaming for stimulation.

The cold would’ve burned to someone without their natural resistance, but instead, the icy magic in the metal provided a difference of sensation, the freezing fighting the searing heat of their lust and holding it back. Though not entirely…

The potion spread through their body, flooding their veins with distilled magic that mingled with the heady arousal that pulsed through every muscle, seeping into their bones, pushing aside any thought besides a need for more .

By the time the last of the potion trickled down their throat, they were breathless, twitching, pulling at the chains to reach his lips once more. But they were denied. He pulled away, his expression unreadable, his eyes drifting down to where they were left now untouched and harder than the wall behind them.

The last of Abdirak’s flasks had steam drifting from the now open top, the priest holding a small flame beneath the bottom of the glass that charred with black soot from the fire licking around it. When the bottle tilted, the liquid that trickled across their chest was near boiling, and even through the resistance the potion provided they could still feel the burning sting.

“More.” They breathed, feeling only the edge of pain, the keening need for greater sensation. “Please, Enver-”

“Dear one, I shall pretend I did not hear you call another’s name again while I am the only one delivering your penance.” Abdirak’s hand tapped sharply on the tip of the rod, driving it in a short hard burst of sensation that was enhanced by the iced magic still woven through the metal. “But if you desire your lover’s attention, that can be arranged. Is that what you wish for, dear one? Do you want to see him bared before you, sharing your pain?”

The thought of the tyrant bent and bowed flashed through Durge’s mind. A memory? A daydream? A fleeting imagination of desire? They neither knew nor cared, beyond what it might take to see him in such a position. “Yes, Abdirak. If…if that is what he also wants.”

—

Abdirak turned towards Gortash, carefully concealing the hint of uncertainty clouding the back of his mind. Lords like him were often willing to debase themselves, but there was no guarantee his pride would allow his libido the satisfaction. He decided it would be safer to goad the man’s ego first, which would make bringing him to his knees far more satisfying. “Well, my Lord? What is your choice? You both know your signals, how to stop at any time.”

He frowned as the man stepped towards his lover instead, golden claws caressing bare white scales. “You wish…to share the penance that you requested?” Dark eyes beneath a furrowed brow searched the Dragonborn for an answer.

“I need the pain,” they stated plainly. Abdirak smiled. “And I need you .” They continued, his smile growing. “If we can share it, if you can feel what I feel…”

“So be it.” Gortash conceded easily, sealing the agreement with a brief kiss, one that the Dragonborn chased with their teeth nipping at his lip, drawing blood.

Abdirak watched silently as the man caught the trickle of crimson on his finger, pressing it into their mouth, almost goading them to bite his entire hand right off there and then…but they didn’t. The dark fire behind their eyes flickered and was silenced in the same heartbeat, violence subsiding in the simple touch of golden claws.

“Undress yourself, Enver.” He left no room for argument in his tone, cold with an edge of intrigue as he set the steaming bottle aside, stalking across the room to his bags once more. The little lord had clearly experienced some issue in his knee - that could serve the Maiden well. Leather straps, a metal bar, a sharp edged golden collar that was an unintentionally perfect match for the man’s gauntlets. A point to consider… “Your gloves. Leave them on.”

—

Following orders was not particularly in Gortash’s interests, but he would make an exception. The flicker of recognition in their eyes, the cracks in the glass of shattered memories coming together in new patterns… A little more and perhaps a stained glass window might show them a version of what was. What could be. They were watching him intently as he removed his clothes, folding each piece neatly and placing it aside. The moment he finished, he felt Abdirak’s finger tracing the light silver line of a long healed scar on his shoulder. What followed was a quiet voice in his ear, whispering instructions that sent a shiver down his spine. The harness slipped around his chest easily, cool leather straps pulling taught firmly. It forced his shoulders back, just a slight edge of an ache digging at the inside of his joints. He reasoned that his bound lover likely felt a similar discomfort, their arms still chained high above them, legs still spread where their ankles were hitched to the wall. It was the cold of metal against his neck that stopped the breath in Enver’s throat for a moment. It was not constricting, but he could tell that moving too much would press the sharp little spikes into his chin and collarbone.

As he had been instructed, he walked to the wall, standing so close he could feel the heat radiating from Durge’s body, smell the scent of sweat and the sweet tang of old blood that seemed to follow them everywhere. Abdirak tapped the back of his knees with a simple riding crop, bidding him to kneel before the assassin. His assassin.

The leather cuffs around his ankles were attached to a sturdy metal bar, keeping his legs spread apart as he knelt painfully on the hard stone of the floor. The angle was no help to the angry pulsing ache deep in his joint… He would be needing his cane tomorrow, but that mattered little. His face was so close to the twitching and rigid Dragonborn that he could hardly take his eyes off the end of the chilled metal tube protruding from their tip.

“Pay attention, Enver.” The priest hooked a chain to the metal ring of the harness that sat between his taught shoulder blades, hoisting it to attach to the same point Durge’s wrists were secured to the wall. His chest now bore some of his bodyweight - easier on his knees, but not enough to eliminate the discomfort. To his surprise, Enver’s hands remained unbound. “You surprise me, Priest. I had expected to be left with no such freedom.”

“Freedom,” Abdirak leaned down, growling darkly in his ear, “is all a matter of perspective.”

—

Durge could hear their pulse drumming through their head, adrenaline and painful arousal at the sight of the proud Archduke held beneath them with his legs spread. The harness enhanced the shape of his chest, dark curls of hair covering his body in stark contrast to their pearly scales. Perhaps that’s why they were drawn together, they reasoned. The differences.

Their own body was all ridges and scales, hard edges and bright colours, not a single hair upon them.

Enver’s body was made of soft curves, rich toned skin, the shock of dark hair crowning the man who dreamed of grandeur-

His dreams… He talked about those, sometimes.

Their attention snapped back at the feeling of the Archduke’s golden claws seeking their hips, the tip of the metal pricking into their skin with a familiar sting. Dark eyes gazed up into theirs as they felt the gauntlets raking down the sides of their thighs. “Look at me. You asked for this, my dear, do not waste it.”

“Now,” Abdirak’s voice cut between them, cool and clear. “Shall we continue?” They could see the heated bottle in his hand, once again steaming from the flame held beneath.

The temperature would’ve been close to scalding had it hit Enver directly, even on their own flesh with the effects of the potion still resisting the damage it could do, it felt damn near blistering. The path the liquid coursed cooled as it trickled lower, flowing off the hard edges of their body to splash onto the bare chest of the man below. He drew in a sharp breath as they watched his eyes momentarily widen with the burn.

“Do not hold back.” The priest scolded the pair, moments before a longer pour of heated water flowed across their bodies drawing out a low moan in chorus. “Good, dear one, good - show him how beautifully your pain can sing out together, be sure that Loviatar can hear your devotion!” Over the course of countless long minutes, the searing burns grew hotter, drawing the volume of their voices louder as Abdirak’s joyful laughter echoed from the stone walls. Durge’s mind grew ragged at the edges, a soft and peaceful haze settling into the intensity of the pain and the pleasure of seeing the Archduke suffering in tandem with them. Below, they were almost shivering, the hollow tube within less empty than it had been despite the bitter cold of the metal.

—

Abdirak leaned down again to address the kneeling lord, orchestrating the crescendo of the symphony he was conducting in Loviatar’s honour. “You see how they are desperate for you? Taste them, Enver. Do not let one drop spill to the floor.” He removed the collar, freeing the man to move. Next, he pressed the tip of the riding crop against the slight swelling forming at the man’s knee, relishing the pained howl it drew from his lips as he gripped Gortash’s hair and pressed his head forward to the leaking Dragonborn.

They were gazing down, eyes almost clouding over, he could sense the soft layer of bliss wrapping around them with the lingering edge of pain. The priest stood up straight once more calling forth the Weave under the watchful eye of his goddess to shroud Durge’s vision with darkness. His crop struck true on Gortash’s bare calf, the swift rising of a reddened welt further proof to the offering of pain as he moaned around his lover, the ice cold of the rod no doubt burning his tongue as he lost his careful composure to the impact. Durge also cried out, exactly as planned. Enver’s metal claws had dug deeply into their side. The rich crimson trickle coursing down their shaking thigh was alluring, a paint upon the canvas. Each fresh mark of the crop focused the shared pain. Gortash feeling the direct impact, still trying to please his lover even as time and time again his gauntlets pierced their flesh, transferring the pain. And of course, his tongue burning on the icy metal would be pressing it deeper into Durge, teasing forth the deeper ecstasy of stimulation.

He envied them, now. Bound together, kept purposefully on the brink of satisfying their lust but never tipping over the edge, the sweet caress of agony wrapping around them with Loviatar’s loving embrace. The push and pull of the strikes, the beautiful colour of bruising rising below dark skin, the strain and rattle of chains and bindings…

—

Gortash was quickly reaching his limit. The taste of his lover’s lust finally upon his tongue, scalded as it was by the cold of the metal, was raising his desire to a fever pitch. He wanted them. Needed them. Durge’s pulse was thrumming on his lips every time he pressed heated kisses along their length - they were about ready to tear the chains from the walls. It wouldn’t be the first time, either.

He felt their tail wrap around his back, his arms embracing their hips as Abdirak’s crop was stayed from further impact. Their voice broke the silence, gasping and thick with lust.

“Enough, priest. I cannot… Pain’s purpose is served, but I must have him. Return my sight, release my chains, and leave me with him.” Their tail was gradually tightening its grip, protective perhaps…or was it becoming possessive? His heart pounded at the possibility.

“As you wish, dear one. Your penance was…exquisite. The Maiden is very satisfied by your offering, as am I.” The spell around the Dragonborn’s vision was broken, and their chains released with ease. “I shall return for my belongings tomorrow.”

“Your payment will be sent in due course.” Gortash added, reclaiming a little of his power in the situation. Although that prospect seemed absurd as he remained naked on his knees, the harness holding half of his weight.

The footsteps receded, followed by the click of the door opening and closing. He looked up, now, seeing Durge rubbing the feeling back into their wrists. Their body was marked with red streaks. The marks of his golden gauntlets had pierced the marble of their flesh, chiselling it back into the sculpture of magnificent violence that he longed to bow before…exactly like he was doing right now.

Thin draconic lips pulled into a smirk, the fire in their eyes proving their devotion, their desire. And all of it aimed at him at last. Aimed like the weapon they truly were.

Durge reached up and pulled hard on the chain connected to Enver’s harness, hauling him off the ground. His ankles were still bound to the spreader bar, but his hands were free, and that was the only thing that gave him even a second of stability against their body as he was pulled until he was on tiptoes.

“There you are.” Enver muttered, almost reverently, still below the level of their eyes.

“Here I am, Tyrant.” They ran their hands from his shoulders to his wrists, his skin prickling beneath their touch before they brought his hands up to their throat, placing his gauntlets like a gilded collar. “You thought you could hold me, chain me, tame me while I was weakened by my need?”

“The only chains that could ever hold you , my dear, were the ones that you asked for.” Recognition flickered and left. It wasn’t all there, that was too much to hope…but their body remembered. He didn’t need to look down to know that the hollow rod was not empty, that they were twitching as their pulse increased under his fingertips, that they were not going to stop until they were satisfied.

—

The sharp metal edges and calloused fingertips stayed right where Durge held them, Enver’s chest almost touching theirs where the harness was holding him up from behind his shoulders. Dark eyes never lost their pride, even as he allowed them to fix the chains that had bound them to his wrists this time.

Durge didn’t remember everything he wanted them to, they knew that much, but the Dragonborn could feel a peace and clarity persisting through the ritual of exchanging power with him. The storm that raged within them quietened to a few dark clouds and a cold wind whispering between them, and whispers were far easier to ignore.

They followed where his eyes drifted, to the rod still pressed deep within them, the magic barely fading away to finally allow the metal to heat. They carefully took hold of the end, allowing themselves a few moments more pleasure and deep stimulation before withdrawing it at an achingly slow pace. The end dripped slightly, a mixture of oil and denied orgasm. Perfect.

They brought it up to Enver’s lips, holding it level until they parted, his tongue obediently coming forth from between them to catch his prize as they trickled it into his mouth. They leaned forward over his shoulder, their lips grazing the edge of his ear as they purred their approval. “Good. Very good… That’s what you want to hear from me, isn’t it, Enver? How good you are?”

The only response was a quiet swallow, indicating the rod was now empty. They tossed it aside.

“You were insolent with the priest.” Their teeth grazed his neck as they whispered dark and low against his heated skin. One clawed hand drifted down, pleased - and not at all surprised - to find him fully erect and leaking beneath the first hint of their touch. They tightened their grip with a growl. “But you will not be insolent with me, will you.”

Not a question, a statement. One that Enver did not dispute.

“Good boy.” Another twitch. They smirked, letting go of him once more and trailing their hands around his body, following them with their tail, leaving the whisper of an embrace around him. He looked so inviting, held against the wall, spread and tense as every muscle worked overtime to keep him where they had put him.

He remained silent, as Durge padded across the room to fetch some more oil. It was easy work to pour it across their fingers, teasing Enver open as his breathing became more ragged, preparing him for all they wanted to give him. All they wanted to take .

—

The strain was almost too much for Gortash to bear, but bear it he did. Pride might come before the fall but he had no intention of doing either. The heat of the hands prying him open with fervent desire held a slight warmth of care to them too - claws meant for rending flesh apart moved with care, pulling forth not blood but deep and intoxicating pleasure.

Their voice whispered praise close to his ear once more, breath hot, tongue following the words to taste the sweat trickling down his neck. A shiver crept down his spine as their hands withdrew, leaving him empty…but not for long.

Durge teased him with every moment, pressing their tip to his quivering hole but refusing to enter, instead sliding their still-oiled hands around to his hips. They paused for a moment, squeezing hard enough to leave small bruises beneath their fingertips, then moving down the side of his thighs. In the next moment, Enver Gortash moaned loud enough for the city to hear. But he did not care. Durge had hooked their foot beneath the bar holding his ankles, simultaneously lifting his thighs and dropping him back in one swift motion that filled him instantly. “That sound,” they growled as they held him flush against their body. “It is…pleasing.”

—

The echo from the walls was familiar and had stirred a different voice within their restless mind. One that further stoked their pleasure to feel themselves deep within his body, savouring how his muscles added pressure even as they kept him still. They brought their tail around to caress his chest, relishing how his heartbeat thrummed through his back and against their ribs. “I missed you, my dear.” Enver managed to murmur through ragged-edged breaths, words holding poise his voice no longer possessed. The contradiction was pleasing to their ears.

“I would miss this too, had I known what there was to miss.” They began to move him, relishing the feel of each moment of friction, building the sensation with a slow but gradually building rhythm. “You…were made for me, Enver.”

“I was not.” He breathed his reply between low moans speaking plainly, literally, lending further weight to the words that followed. “But I am yours.” “Do you want more, Tyrant? If you belong to me, should I use you how I see fit?” Durge didn’t need to hear his answer. They felt it, his body quivering as they sank inside him with a harsher thrust, testing if he was truly ready. “Good. Boy.”

They braced one hand against the wall, their tail wrapping around his waist to hold him firmly, their other hand snaking around to grip him with a matching rhythm as they began to slam hard into his warm and inviting body.

The Dragonborn’s own breaths began to quicken to gasps, overwhelmed by the pure sensation. He was tight around them, clenching down on every inch and adding further friction. He was soft against them, their sharp edges leaving bruises on the curves of his tender flesh. He was hard in their grip, throbbing and pulsing under their fingertips. He was pliant beneath their lips, his head moving to the side as their kiss tasted his vulnerable neck. He was proud, strong, willing, undignified, moaning, melting into them…

He was Lord Enver Gortash, Archduke of Baldur’s Gate, self proclaimed saviour of the city, chosen of a God…and he was theirs.

—

The Dragonborn’s growl was possessive, just short of feral, a bare hint of a warning before their teeth bit down hard on his shoulder. The pain blossomed through Enver, body and mind heating like the blood that trickled forth, lapped up by Durge’s hungry and fervent tongue. Moments later the orgasm he had been desperate for ripped through him like a hurricane, spilling over onto the floor, some even reaching the wall with the sheer force of the climax. Nothing compared to this, to his Assassin burying his favourite weapon deep inside him, growling against his bleeding skin again as their own end approached. There was no slowing, no mercy. Their grip was brutal, their rhythm punishing, and the overstimulation of feeling them expand within him as they toppled over the edge of bliss nearly brought him to a second peak himself. They continued, filling him, drawing out every last pulsing moment that left him quivering in their embrace and straining against the chains that still held his arms firmly above. By the time they were done, Enver could barely feel his own body. His heart beat so hard against his chest he was almost certain it would burst, spilling his blood across their pure white scales…what bliss that might be, to find an end in their arms, knowing the only person worthy of taking his life could hold his heart in their hands in more ways than one. But for now, their hands were not stained with his blood, not holding his life as it ebbed away, but instead caressing him. Long fingers curled into thick dark hair, the tips of their claws caressing his scalp. A quick cast of mage hand released the chains binding him with a few deft motions, leaving him held only in his lover’s arms.

—

“Enver.” They murmured, hearing nothing but their voice in their mind, soft with the afterglow of bliss.

“My dear.” He replied, leaning his head back on their shoulder and bringing his hand to their cheek with a tender caress.

They hesitated, unsure if they should ask the question playing on the tip of their tongue… They swallowed their uncertainty, along with the faint taste of his blood that lingered on their lips. The absurdity of being so shy now whilst still buried deep in his body was not lost on them. “May I stay? Until morning. That’s all.”

“As you wish. We both have work to do, after all.” Enver paused, kissing their bloodstained lips, a small shudder of pleasure palpable in his otherwise limp body. “But that can wait. Until the sun rises, you may have whatever you desire.”

A grin crept across their face, mind filling not with murderous urges but entirely more pleasurable ones. “I was going to suggest that we sleep, but hearing those words…” They suddenly pushed forwards, trapping his body against the wall, the hand that was caressing his hair took a firm grip at his roots before roughly shoving his cheek hard against cold stone. “Brace yourself, Enver. There’s a long time between now and dawn.”

--- ---

ENDING NOTES So fun fact I still haven't played as Durge, I'm still absorbing lore and vibes through fandom and fan works~ I haven't even read much fic beyond those by a couple of friends, but I'm having a lot of fun writing with them anyway. Their dynamic is fascinating, so much to play with, so many little headcanons you can weave in to the story~ Anyway, I hope you enjoyed my first full length Durgetash piece with added Abdirak~ I was going to keep our dear priest around to fuck too, but the vibe leaned heavily into just having the two of them for that. We can assume Abdirak went to have a delightful evening with a certain Shadar-Kai instead, they deserve more time together anyway.

#baldurs gate 3 #durgetash #dark urge x gortash #abdirak #dark urge x abdirak #dark urge x gortash x abdirak #fanfic #bg3 #bg3 fanfiction #ao3fic #ao3 fanfic #enver gortash #bg3 gortash #Spotify

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ashthemadwriter-archived · 3 years ago

Text

How their female version would be like Ft. Karasuno

Fandom: Haikyuu

Pairings: Karasuno boys X Gn!reader

Genre: Crack,Fluff,kinda Smut

Format: Headcanons

Warnings: Nsfw content,mentions of BDSM,slight spoiler from the manga on Daichi's part

Word Count: 2.1 K

A/n: Used she/her pronouns for the characters.not proofread.doing this just with the Karasuno boys,so if you want me to do other teams as well,hit me :D

I would love to do it for Inarizaki and/or Nekoma as well…

image source here Part two with Fukurodani,Seijoh,Nekoma

↬Tobio Kageyama

-holy fucking shit,dude.shes hot as fuck and she doesn't even tries to

-I think she'll be the kind of girl who's quiet and doesn't really interact with anybody (except for you ofc)

-The heart breaker.thousands of boys have a thing for her,but none of them have the gutts to tell her because of the amount of guys she'd rejected before

-she has like, the biggest boobs ever.the sight of them bouncing up and down as he does a service ace is the hottest view you've ever seen in your whole fucking life,which is why it leads to a quicky into the locker room,and him trying to remain quiet as you suck on her nipples.

-shes not really into PDA (girl is shy T^T) , but loves it when she has all your attention.feeling your eyes on her in the court just makes her even more motivated to give it her best and win the match so she'll be able to hear your praises and feel your tight hugs.

-dunno why but she gives me a long haired girl kinda vibe.just imagine her and her straight,shiny black hair that is shaped into a long ponytail whenever she goes to play volleyball <3

-she tries to remain quiet in bed,but sometimes fails T^T you fingering her and eating her out at the same time literally drives her crazy.cannot control her loud moans,and you don't want her to either :D

-shes shy omg omg so shy when it comes to sex or confessing her feeling toward you T^T she'll blush everytime youre making her feel good and also,everytime she tells you how much you mean to her.ITS ADORABLE

-doesn't how a particular style and doesn't really care about her appearance. the only things you've seen her wearing is her jersey,her school uniform and the black & dark blue jacket she wears whenever she goes for jogging.

-her body…her fucking,goddamn,hot,toned body

-just Hallelujah

-just imagine her white,flawless body naked with her hair down,her tits bouncing up and down as your fucking eath other

-you get a heart attack everytime she wears a dress,because its rare she looks so fucking stunning

-god just help me-

↬Shoyo Hinata

-shes more like the adorable type (I mean,he already is,and hes into her sister's cute girly stuff so yeah)

-shes shy at first but when she gets used to you…omg

-clingiest baby ever

-loves it when you tie her hair into pigtails T^T appreciates any form of affection,honestly

-owns multiple types of cute hairclips and wears at least two of them to school

-her hair is not long,but not short either.medium sized :D but her height is definitely short lmao,like around 156 cm…

-but hey! its fine! I mean short girls are cute! and theres really no pressure on her,though its harder to reach the net :D

-now im giggling lol

-she wears long cute leggings which are kinda hot,but mostly cute

-big fan of phisycal touch.loves cuddles,high fives,kisses (she'll blush,but it doesn't mean that shes not into them)

-I think that she would be a switch in bed.like,you do something for her? shes gonna return the favor and even more wildly so <3 -her kisses are filled with emotions.her feelings immediately grow stronger for you as time passes by and will definitely get attached to you :>

-if you break her heart im gonna kick your ass

↬Kei Tsukishima

-HOLY FUCK

-im outta breath

-I mean goddd! hes already such a mean daddy/dom, and you think that will change if he turns into a woman? nopppppe!

-shes even meaner than usual !

-this mf is so damn fucking hot,i mean it!

-shes tall ok? so she has long,slim,hairless legs (thanks to laser lol)

-her thighs…

-Ash.exe has stopped working

-always wears long black/red leggings which makes her legs even more hotter

-people are always wondering about how she would taste :D and Yamaguchi notices this too

-"wow Tsuki! your legs are so hot!" "shut up,Yamaguchi"

-she has short,messy hair :> SHORT,BLONDE,MESSY HAIR

-longest fucking eyelashes ive ever seen,which makes her even more breath taking

-her hair reaches a bit under her shoulders

-just imagine her wearing bdsm clothes (wtf are they called? those black leather clothings? dunno lmfao) she'll block your eyesight bye covering them with a red ribbon, and will give you the best sex you've ever had

-shes so fucking mean! wont let you cum unless youre practically begging her to make you cum,and she has no mercy!

-youre obsessed with her.her salty attitude,her long fingers that makes you scream in bed,her hot fucking thighs which youre dying to lick one day…

-and she wonts disappoint you :D

-"you've been such a good girl/boy ,wanna make mommy feel good?"

-and that's how you end up lying on the bed,your tongue on her clit while she rides your face, and she wont take her leggings/long boots off :D

-just come fuck me Tsukishima lmao im desperate

↬Tadashi Yamaguchi

-awwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

-no seriously, awwwwwwwwwwww

-shes so nice and cuuuuuuuuute!

-so cute! so cute I just wanna eat her up!

-which is weird how shes friends with a meannie like Tsuki, but we all know that Tsukishima is good deep down too :)

-blushing most of the time,especially when boys try to talk to her or ask her out

-"ah… blushing furiously* t-thank you but I already have y/n…"

-im gonna die I cant take it anymore theres butterflies flying out of me

-this princess is the definition of the word "Adorable"

-she has long hair :> not as long as Kageyamas, but long

-ok ok imagine this

-youre sitting on her bed and shes sitting on the ground.you braid her long hair for her and then gently pull her hair so she would look up to you,and you place a small kiss on her forehead telling her how beautiful she looks and then shower her with kisses while she blushes hard

-shes into skincare :> you spend your Friday nights trying the new masks and skincare products shes bought and she'll whine a bit when you eat all the cucumbers to tease her lol

-loud in bed lmao.moans your name and pushes your head to her pussy so youll give her all the pleasure he deserves

-god I wanna marry her

-please please please treat this her like a princess,she deserves it

↬Yuu Nishinoya

-well well well

-look what do we have here

-ok first of all,shes short lol

-so short

-really short

-barely reaches 153

-but does that effect her self steam? nooooope

-I mean were talking about Nishinoya Senpai :>

-hm…her hair is something between long and medium :>

-not to mention that now that shes a girl her hair is always down so…

-damn!

-see the lighter colored part of his hair on top? its longer now,and its down

-talkative as ever lmao

-even more so

-always encouraging her friends,no matter what is it about

-long,black eyelashes

-her eyes are stunning

-SHES NOT A VIRGIN

-IM TELLING YOU

-most experienced girl ever,honestly

-I mean shes short but shes also hot

-her wearing a black tight dress that makes her slim body even more noticeable and the light makeup she has on? people do not mistake her for a elementary school kid anymore

-remember what I told you about her eyes? add black eyeliner

-oh god

-she even playes hard to get sometimes lmao

-she will no sleep with anyone.this lady is a fan of long term relationships and prefers true love instead of messing around/one night stands

-so if you wanna get into her pants? gotta be loyal

-yeah yeah. no objections allowed

↬Ryuunosuke Tanaka

-<3

-<33

-shes got short hair

-as short as Kageyamas (the male version of course), but messy

-and blonde

-remember Kristen Stewart's hair style in the movie "Charleys Angles" ? That

-ok I dunno why but she looks like a lesbian lmao (not because of her hair bitches)

-shes a fucking fighter. shes into boxing and definitely a member of a fight club

-am I allowed to say that she still has a crush on Kyoko?…

-boys like to be friends with her.i mean shes a tough girl.tough girls are popular,right?

-shes tall.not too much,but tall.like… 170 maybe?

-super protective of her friends.shit,did some guy make you cry? you better not let her find out about it

-"who the fuck dared to upset you? im gonna kick that stupid ass of his! just give me his damn name and ill bring his dead body to ya"

-super reliable.ask her to do something and she'll do it in the perfect way

-is a fan of piercings,and has unbelievably huge breasts <3

-has black eyeliner and red lipstick on :D

-she knows how to make you feel good in bed

-just omg…

↬Koushi Sugawara

-finally! its my sugar mommy's turn now :D

-ok

-shes just like Tsukishima,only more mischievous

-like,she seems so nice,so innocent,so sweet

-until she has you on her bed

-you find your self in handcuffs,eyes coverd,ass in the air with her slapping you and youre like "dude what just happened"

-lmao

-but shes a nice girl,tbh

-shes just a bit naughty under her good girl mask lol

-shes so damn hot

-like literally the perfect appeariance

-her height is around 165,her hair reaches her hips and its unique color…

-very very popular among boys. theyre like "Damn! here comes the hot girl from class B! ive been dying to ask her out!" and youre like "back off mfuckers shes taken"

-shes super professional in bed.makes you go wild.

-always has lip gloss on.her shining lips are the most eyecatching thing ever, and that is the reason why you always end up in the locker room,half-naked, having one of your intense makeout sessions.

-likes to put mascara on <3

-ok idk why but I think she would be into bananas lmao.no perverted thought honestly

-definitely sits on your face.if you ever upset her? get ready to be punished lmao

↬Asahi Azumane

-again,awwwwwwww

-lmao I feel bad for him XD I mean hes such a softie when hes a man,let alone being a woman

-so soft.sooooo soft T^T

-you mean the world to her and she will not hesitate to show it to you

-I think she'll be a good cook,but sucks at making desserts

-like,she wants to make you some cookies for your date night,and the next thing you know is firefighters in front of your house pouring water into the kitchen lmao

-she apologizes so much! I mean,literally for everything.things are not going according to the plan? shes bending over and crying "im sooooorryyyyyy waaaaaaaaa" "w-what are you saying sorry about? freaking out* "

-long hair lmao.reaches under her waist.and her height is around 172 ig

-shy in bed.whatever you do,shes gonna BLUSH,and will definitely praise you afterwards

-"I love how you make me feel so good…blushes* "

-Daichi still messes with her sometimes lol

↬Daichi Sawamura

-ok im getting writers block,so lets wrap this up quickly

-this bitch

-lmao

-short messy hair,always shaped into a ponytail

-dude its hot

-shes a cop,but one of those sexy cops

-your trying to clean the bed and next thing you know shes behind you, putting handcuffs on you and whispering to your ear "sir/ma'am, youre under arrast" "oh yeah? for what?" "stealing my heart.you have the right to remain silence until we get to the court"

-and by court,she means the bed :D

-likes to eat you as a dessert,or may I say,with the dessert.she'll put some Nutella on your sex,licking it while giving you shivers

-so naughty,so responsible,so nice

-will never offend you,but gets serious when youre doing something that may be harmful to yourself.will immediately stop you and doesn't care if you get upset.she'll eventually convince you that its for your own good tho,so no worries.

-the kind of girlfriend who would definitely be labled as "your wife" in the future :>

damn! this is long for me lmfao reblogs,comments or any kind of interactions are super duper appreciated! :D

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jungshook69 · 4 years ago

Text

.:☆.°☾.Jealous.☾°.☆.:

DISCLAIMER: This doesn’t represent the members’ actions or the army’s actions in any manner it’s pure fiction. This is an original work, do not copy. The taglist is open if you want. Taglist is now closed.

WORD COUNT: 1358 words

PAIRING/S: Jungkook X female reader

GENRE: Established relationship au ; Oneshot/Imagine

WARNINGS: None

ABOUT: This oneshot is part of a 7 part BTS imagine called “Jealous”. This oneshot is a reaction imagine of how each member would get jealous of their s/o in a given situation.

7 PARTS: Namjoon || Seokjin || Yoongi || Hoseok || Jimin || Taehyung || Jungkook

STATUS: Complete

☆.。.:*・°☾.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☾☆.。.:*・°☾.。.:*・

You felt a bead of sweat travel down your forehead as your legs moved at an incredulous rate on the treadmill beneath you. Your chest was heaving and completely drenched in sweat as you tried to keep your staggered breath steady. You shut your eyes close, as you tried to engross yourself in the music blasting through your air pods.

Two minutes later you heard the familiar beeping of the machine underneath you, indicating that your hour on the treadmill was over. You hopped off and turned your attention to the rest of the folks in the gym, disconnecting your air pods simultaneously.

You watch Taehyung, Yoongi and Namjoon lifting kettle bells in the corner, Jimin and Hoseok were still running on the treadmills and lastly Jin was situated on a pec-deck machine, and your boyfriend Jungkook was seated beside the older, lifting dumbbells.

You were their personal fitness trainer and took exercise very seriously. You liked to maintain a healthy lifestyle and were incredibly proud of your toned abs that were sprawled across your abdomen, as you took a quick take of your figure in the gym mirror.

You made your way over to Jin and Jungkook and observed Jin’s figure. Now this may sound a little weird, but you never ogled anyone in the gym. You didn’t look at them with lust. When you were observing someone’s figure, who in this case was Jin in a black tank top, you always kept it professional. Your mind immediately kicked into auto drive as you begin thinking about what machine you would recommend them to work at next.

“You know Jin oppa, you don’t need the pec-deck machine.” You spoke up after a minute of thinking.

You caught Jungkook’s attention too. “What?” Jin spoke up.

“See, you already have pretty broad shoulders like Taehyung, but your shoulders are already pretty uplifted naturally. So this makes it appear as though you’re naturally toned at the chest. And trust me when I say you have a great upper toned figure already. I think you should work on your quads. So I think you should ditch the 25 minutes over here every week and swap it out for 40 minutes on the seated leg press machine.” You state your analysis.

“Okay” Jin said without a complaint, moving to switch spots for the rest of the session. This is what you loved about working with them. They always respected your decision and knew that whatever was being suggested was only to make them a better version of themselves.

You were about to move on to the trio lifting the kettle bells, when Jungkook’s feeble voice stopped you, “Noona, what about me? Do I need to change anything?” he said his eyes sparkling.

That was something you found astonishing about him. How his face represented that of a young teenage boy, his doe eyes sparkling, while his body was that of a muscle man. But recently after you had complimented him on his cute face, he had taken it the wrong way, and had decided to grow his hair out, indulging into man buns, in an attempt to make his face look more manly. You absolutely loved his long black hair, but you had kindly explained to him that he needn’t look all macho all the time to impress you. After understanding the situation he had decided to keep his long hair, as he’d fallen in love his new look.

“Noona?” Jungkook’s soft voice disrupted the array of your thoughts.

“Yeah… no… you don’t need to change anything babe, I think your routine is fine, at least for another month.” You said turning on your heels to move towards the trio in the other corner of the gym.

Before you knew it, you were assessing the three and assigning them their respective machines. You were right in the middle of checking Yoongi’s weight plates so it wouldn’t be too strenuous on his fragile shoulders, when a loud yelp echoed off the walls of the gym followed by a loud thump. You motioned the others to wait as you ran towards the source of the familiar voice.

Your eyes met with the sight of Jungkook’s left hand gripping his right shoulder, his eyebrows furrowed, his mouth partially open, gasping for air, a pained expression written all over his sweaty face. Your eyes shifted to multiple giant weight plates all on a pile on the floor, having slid of the dumbbell bar.

“What do you think you’re doing?” your voice half-laced with annoyance, half with concern.

“I was just… lifting weights” he said breathlessly.

“Yeah I can see that. But why are they out of your weight class? Why did you add on an extra 10 pounds to the barbell?” you ask.

“I just wanted to try something…”

“Well you can’t just impulsively change your weight class Jungkook. It’s gonna strain your arm muscles. No wonder you got hurt.” You said crouching down to your knees as you tried to move his arm back and forth, checking on his muscle strain.

“I just wanted to improve my frame…”

“Well you can’t do that Jungkook. We follow a level of professionalism here. There’s a reason I’m your personal trainer.” You said sternly. Nothing came in between you and strict professionalism, and Jungkook knew that. It was part of the reason as to why he found you so enticing.

“I- I’m sorry” he said chest heaving.

“You gonna tell me why you really did that babe?” you say in a softer tone. You could tell Jungkook had a hidden intention behind his impulsive action.

“No reason.”

“Don’t give me that bullshit Jeon, tell me…”

“Fine! I got a bit insecure when you were complimenting Jin hyung’s figure, so I wanted to change things up a bit…” he said sighing.

“Gguk, hey look at me…” he immediately looked up to the voice of you calling him by his nickname.

“Listen… please don’t feel insecure… it’s my job to observe and analyze your guys’ figures and ensure you guys remain healthy and fit. And the comments I throw around about your bodies during our sessions are merely to decide what’s the next step to keep you guys in shape. It’s my job Gguk, you need to understand. I am in no way comparing you guys to each other okay?” you said calmly explaining to him.

“Okay…” he said a small smile forming on his lips.

“Promise me you won’t go ahead and do anything impulsive like that again… because if you hurt yourself, your fans are gonna be really upset and worried about you.”

“Yeah…”

“Mr. Jeon Jungkook, I never thought of you as the jealous type.” You said giggling after a short pause, trying to lift the tension in the room.

“Noona… hush” he says his cheeks turning red, as he refused to meet your eyes.

You drank in his flustered and disheveled state as you bent down to his level and thread your fingers through his long black hair. His eyes visibly widened as you closed the proximity between the two of you.

“You have some guts, telling me what to do Gguk…” you said dominating the chiseled man in front of you. You watched as his Adams apple bobbed up and down nervously.

“N-Noona… someone might see us…” he gulps, his breath uneven.

“Let them” you say connecting your lips in a steamy kiss, the fear of being caught, leaving a feeling of excitement shiver through your body. You let your tongue dart out, tracing a warm trail along his soft lips. Just as he opened his mouth to give you the entrance you ever so subtly asked for, you pulled your tongue away, completely disconnecting your lips from his.

You watched his hooded eyes, blown out with lust, flutter open, as he looks at you with his mouth agape.

“Sorry baby, duty calls.” You say standing up, smirking.

“B-But…” you watched his adorable red cheeks as he struggled to form words.

“I promise I’ll make it up to you tonight.” You say winking and walking away to resume your job, leaving Jungkook’s mess of state behind.

☆.。.:*・°☾.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☾☆.。.:*・°☾.。.:*

A/N: I wanted to try something different and write Y/N as a dom character and the male lead as a sub character. Also I wanted to show that Jungkook is a perfectionist. He wants to be good at everything, and he is, owing to his competitive nature. But I just wanted to make a point that he doesn’t have to be good at everything for us to love him. We all love him no matter what, and that he doesn’t have to strain himself, just to feel loved by us.

Don’t forget to follow @jungshook69 for more content:) You can check out more works of mine here. Have a great day:)

TAGLIST: @yzkyzkuniverse

ENDING NOTE: Hey guys! I just wanted to say I was pleasantly surprised by the amount of love my series got. I never expected more than 3 people or so to read my story. But you guys surprised me with the amount of people who liked my series. I just wanted to say a big thank you for the support as it motivates me to work harder and give you guys better works in the future. Sending you all a big virtual hug, stay safe, and I look forward to sharing more of my writing with y’all :)

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gohyuck · 4 years ago

Text

hometown (lee jeno) teaser

pairing: jeno lee x reader

genre: smut, angst

teaser word count: 1.5k

fic word count: 7k+ (it looks like it may end up being, like, 11-12k? i’m unsure)

teaser warnings: wet dream, one-sided emotional affair, jerking off into a shared bathroom sink, some discussion of math, general hatred of “the System”, mentions of depression

general plot warnings for the fic: infidelity: reader cheats on yuta and jeno cheats on his original character gf and neither of their partners find out so there isn’t even a nice little revenge scene at the end... it’s literally just them getting away with cheating, leftist thought points/philosophies discussed even if they aren’t outright stated as leftist, both implicit and explicit discussion of mental illnesses (mostly depression and suicidal ideation but like it isn’t explicit ideation and they don’t actually want to die they kind of just don’t want to exist), general disillusionment with the system, jeno and the reader are not very happy people and are actually full of a lot of hopelessness about society and the future of the planet as a whole, explicit mentions of American politics/legislation/etc. and implicit criticization of them, mentions of drugs (weed), the characters are so self-aware that it hurts me to write them because i feel bad for them and feel even worse for their significant others

A brief taste of hair in his mouth - he doesn’t like it, he decides then and there - before you pull yourself away from him, laughing softly at the way you’d accidentally shifted just as he’d leaned in to press a kiss against your forehead. You reach up to smooth the wrinkle between his eyebrows, a gesture more symbolic than anything, and he straightens his face out himself, trading the hair-in-mouth disgust in for the gentle smile he’d had just before being so rudely assaulted. It’s as you start to move your hand away from his face that the two of you meet eyes, and a corner of Jeno’s mouth turns up as he circles his hand around your wrist to stop it mid-air.

“Kiss?” He asks, one of his brows arched now. You can’t look at it too long, knowing that the urge to pluck away at his stray hairs will overcome you. Instead, you train your gaze on his cupid’s bow, thinner upper lip giving way to the kind of full lower lip you love to sink your teeth into. Jeno makes the prettiest noise when you do so.

“Mhm,” You respond, sounding noncommittal to the world but absolutely sure to the boy you’re straddling. He grins fully now, right before leaning up to capture your lips in his. The first touch is just a little clumsy, just slightly awkward, but after the initial meeting it’s only up from there. It’s easy, natural, the way you dissolve into each other, a mess of tongue and teeth as his hands grip the cloth across your back that much harder, as you grind the apex of your thighs down into his with that much more force. Time progresses at the speed of light. Time doesn’t progress at all.

It’s only a matter of seconds before Jeno cums in his pants, but it’s only a matter of seconds before you do, too. He knows it. It’s what happened when he’d actually lived through this, and it’s what happens now, over and over again, a moment preserved in time with a delicacy only minds can make. The stuff of dreams, literally.

Jeno wakes up right before it happens. It isn’t jarring only because he’s used to it. His fourth alarm of the morning is blaring, and he uses one hand to haphazardly wipe the sleep out of his eyes while extracting his other arm out from underneath his girlfriend in order to reach his phone. She’s sound asleep - she always is - and he envies her for a moment before turning the alarm off and, for good measure, turning his goddamn phone off too.

It’s a bit fucked, he realizes once he’s properly come to, for him to have a wet dream about you when Minhee is right there, still sleeping off the way he’d fucked her into the bed last night. He’s had this revelation twelve nights and days in a row now. For a split second he feels bad, feels as if he’s the worst person on Earth, but it’s easily overshadowed by the way his cock is straining in his boxers. This has happened for the past 12 days too.

Jeno’s always wanted to have a daily routine.

He slides out of bed, careful not to wake Minhee, before slipping the nearest shoes on - gold Nike slides, a birthday gift from Jaemin who’d insisted that Jeno wear colorful things even if it’s just in their dorm room - and making his way to the bathroom him and Jaemin share with Renjun and Donghyuck. They’re the best suitemates he could possibly have, but he’s even more glad in this moment: none of them will be awake ‘til noon. It’s a Saturday.

He can jerk off in peace.

Just in case, Jeno locks both the bathroom doors and double checks to make sure that they’re locked before he finally, finally slips a thumb under his waistband, forcing it down with almost gratuitous speed. He can’t help the soft grunt that bubbles up from the back of his throat as he wraps one hand around his dick. He braces the other against the mirror for balance, just in case.

Jeno swipes across the base of his tip with his thumb, his eyes sliding shut at the feeling. He moves his wrist up once, lets precum drool over his own fingers for a second before sliding his hand back down with purpose, slicking himself up to make the slide between his cock and his calloused palm easier. It isn’t Minhee’s face or body that sear themselves into the inside of his eyelids as he strokes himself, bottom lip folded in between his teeth. You’d love to bite it, tug on it. He imagines your face as you’d cum from grinding against him that one time.

He tightens his grip.

He’d never actually fucked you: you hadn’t wanted to lose your virginity to someone who was so starry-eyed, so untarnished by the ways of the world. You didn’t want to take the virginity of someone like that either. It felt wrong on every level somehow. You’d made sure to tell him so, never one to mince words, not even as a 16 year old. The breakup hadn’t come long after the singular time he had (in his pants, he remembers with a wince… always with a wince when he isn’t dreaming of it) and although it didn’t work out romantically between the two of you, you’d stayed friends for the rest of your high school careers. Even now, both in different parts of the country for college, the two of you keep up, more or less, with each other. It’s friendly in a way it wasn’t before.

You’d been having your manic pixie dream girl arc the year you’d dated him, Jeno supposes now. Cynical, hopeless, bitter at the world and hating everything and everyone. The world was and is awful, and you were too aware of it, or so you said. Jeno wants to laugh so badly at that old version of you, the one that had broken his heart, but he finds that he can’t anymore. A too-big part of him thinks you might’ve been right about everything.

You’d slept with YangYang Liu in senior year, had called Jeno afterwards to see if he’d go with you to get Plan B at 3 a.m. on a Friday. It’d been hardly a week after he’d cum embarrassingly early while sleeping with someone - a girl from his third period class - for the first time. He’d swallowed his suddenly resurfacing heartbreak to pick you up and drive you to the nearest CVS in the same car you’d made out with him so many times before. He’d swallowed his moans later that night as he lay in bed, fisting his cock tightly at the thought of gripping your thighs so hard they bruised, at sinking into you, at how warm, how wet, how tight - fuck!, he’d hissed to himself then, having bitten so hard into the hand he’d used to quiet himself that blood bloomed from broken skin.

Jeno had cum hard then, and he cums just as hard now, canine splitting the flesh of his lip as he muffles his long, drawn out groans. The metallic taste of blood is enough to push him further over the edge, and he practically hunches in on himself as spurts of opaque white liquid land in the bathroom sink. He’s satiated for now. He remembers all the work he has to do - midterms are upcoming - and his post-orgasm glory fades as soon as it’d come.

After an earth-shattering orgasm to properly wake him up, everything else feels twice as mundane as usual. Jeno’s quick to run hot water in the sink, making sure all evidence of his one-sided emotional affair is gone, before brushing his teeth and pissing. He’d shower, but for some reason he can’t bring himself to. Sometimes, he can’t bring himself to for two days, or three. Deodorant and Minhee’s perfume are his best friends now. Donghyuck, psych major that he is, calls it depression. Jeno, hellbent on never letting Hyuck be correct, calls it ‘finally experiencing ego death’.

He thinks Hyuck is right, though. He won’t say so.

Jeno’d come in as a mechanical engineering major, though he thinks he might switch to computer science. If he’s going to be a corporate shill - he’s realized, quite quickly, that there’s not much else to be - he may as well do it as efficiently as possible. He’d started college with the firm belief that the world is easy to change, and that he can help to do so. He’d dispelled this concept less than three weeks in.

He has midterms to study for, and corporate shill-dom to look forward to for it. Jeno should open the blinds - Jaemin isn’t here right now anyways, and Minhee’ll sleep through that, too - and sit down at his messy desk and get to work. He should study up on eigenvectors and eigenvalues - they’re easy, but they’re comfortable, and Jeno has started to like comfortable - or work through his solids textbook. He should, he should, he should.

Jeno doesn’t even pause between leaving the bathroom and climbing back into bed. Minhee shifts, and he presses a gentle kiss to her forehead before settling in beside her.

He has this moment, so he takes it. He doesn’t feel like he has many moments to himself anymore.

let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!

#first #five #tags #dont #work #jeno #jeno smut #jeno angst #nct dream #nct dream smut #nct dream angst

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hansolmates · 4 years ago

Text

(secret) lovers | m

summary; the (not) best friends 2 lovers spin-off where jungkook and you are trying to hide your relationship from his old best friend pairing; jungkook x reader (f) genre/warnings; established relationship, jiyu is now an old friend and mc went to high school w them, weeb!koo, jk n mc be kinda stanky bc they’re only going to this party for the free booze, soft dom!mc, switch!koo, whiny koo, mc calls jk a slut, cockwarming, gets really soft n’loving at the end, heavy use of the pet name [redacted] i really think this couple is meant to be diabolically dumb together w/c; 2.7k a/n; this couple is really out here living rent free in my mind. jk, mc and jiyu really just are that thruple that i love to hate and hate to love. hope u enjoy this lil spin off!

[series masterlist]

“You made it!”

Jiyu flings her hands out, knocking both your heads with hers in the middle in a surprisingly strong hug. It’s a complete episode of déjà vu, from the way her body smells like the peach lotion she used after gym class to the shade of coral lipgloss. From the corner of your eye, you can see the caramel brunette’s tiny face is inching closer towards your ride, her head tucking in the crook of his neck.

“Jiyu,” you beam. You’re the first to speak, the first to dip their toe in the water. “You look great!”

“Thank you!” she pulls away, popping her hip against the doorway. The silky material of her coverup gleams in the sunlight, the silvery material showing off the silhouette of her bikini-clad body. Despite the fact that you’re the one who compliments Jiyu, her gaze floats over to the person next to you, “what a coincidence you two came at the same time and—oh my, and where are my manners! Come in, come in!”

She moves away from the door, revealing an ornate lobby and two twin stairwells. You can’t help but light up at the beautiful crystal chandelier, flecks of pink and blue flickering in your eyes. Further down the hallway you spot open glass doors that lead to a large backyard that overlooks the lake. Some people are already sitting by the dock, lounging about with drinks and happy smiles on their faces.

“Actually,” Oh, he speaks. You think with a small smile on your face, side eyeing the man of the minute, “I forgot the rest of my luggage. We’ll meet you inside.”

“Okay!” Jiyu smiles, “I’ll make you guys some drinks.”

As soon as the door shuts, Jeon Jungkook, your boyfriend for three years blurts out, “She still has a crush on me.”

You snort, taking off the duffle bag that’s hiding behind your back. Continuing to stand awkwardly at the front door, you prepare yourself to console your boyfriend’s worries. “She still has heart-eyes for you, Koo,” you tease, pinching his side.

His eyes are big and swimming with guilt, “We should tell her.”

“Oh, baby. We can’t break her heart this weekend.”

“But love, it’s her birthday.”

“Exactly,” you chirp, bumping your head against his arm, “can’t break her heart on her birthday.”

Jiyu is an old high school friend. Class president, straight As, and even vied for prom queen. The only thing she wasn’t able to obtain throughout her high school years was Jeon Jungkook, the object of her affections. They were best friends in elementary school, eventually turning into distant friends as their interests changed and they got older. Yet, Jiyu still tried to insert herself into Jungkook’s life. Back in high school it was surely cute, the way she’d pine from the back of the room and place anonymous love letters in his locker, but Jungkook wasn’t interested and avoided any of her advances. Fast forward ten years later and it seems like old flames never die out.

The meetups with Jiyu have been scarce since college and only in large groups. As former class president, she decided to hold a little reunion for her old friends, taking advantage of her stellar job benefits. A weekend in the woods, perfectly balmy and far away from the city.

“I don’t wanna lie,” Jungkook nearly whines, pink lips warbling at your inability to budge.

“Mm,” you hum, tracing the fingers across the seam of his back pocket. His boardshorts hide nothing, and you curl your fingers around the swell of his plump bum, “be good for me and tell a little white lie, will you?”

Jeon Jungkook, former President of the Anime Club, prom king candidate and your favorite nerd in the entire world.

A teeny tiny lie won’t hurt anyone. After all, you haven’t seen your high school buddies in literal years, and they wouldn’t dare bother to make a fuss about your relationship. In fact, they don’t know of your relationship with Jungkook. The two of you reconnected randomly, some spontaneous holiday party Kim Seokjin is always inclined to throw. You barely made eye contact the first two hours into it, not really wanting to go back to the hellhole that was your late teenage years. Nevertheless, by the end of the night the two of you couldn’t help yourself.

As you look around the room with utmost confidence, the two of you have made the finest glow up by far. At first you wanted to keep the white lie to save face, you don’t owe anyone an explanation as to how you and the President of the Anime Club hooked up. However, you’re starting to enjoy the ruse.

Jungkook’s sitting on the other side of the backyard, looking absolutely delicious as he sips on whatever fruity cocktail he created. Judging from yours, you have a feeling his drink probably consists of 95% orange juice and 5% alcohol.

Jiyu and him are sitting in the large netted hammock, swinging lightly. Gravity is doing its thing, and Jiyu is practically laying on top of Jungkook’s lap, her body pooling to where his meets in the middle. As soon as his thigh touches hers, his eyes flicker to you in panic. He’s shirtless, only with a pair of mid-cut shorts to protect him. The skin that touches him probably burns.

You wink and wave him away, assuring him it’s fine. Pretending to flip your hair, you turn back to the conversation you’ve been ignoring for the past five minutes. “Man, Jungkook’s so sexy,” Im Nayeon cooes, looking longingly at Jungkook’s form.

“Jiyu’s so lucky,” Rina eggs on, taking another shot from the tray (a tray for herself, you might add.)

“Do you think Jiyu’s gonna get some birthday sex tonight?”

Nayeon snorts, covering her flared nostrils with her hand. That hand eventually loops around your thigh, eagerly pushing you two together by pressing on the meat of your bare skin. “If she’s lucky! Besides, we all know Jungkook had that big crush on you junior year!”

Her pretty bunny teeth tease you, and you can’t help but smile back in return. “What do you mean, he really liked me?” you ask innocently.

“Oh yeah! Drew so many little pictures of you in the margins. Little anime versions of you in his favorite outfits.” Of course, you know about Jungkook’s old crush on you. He’s mentioned it in passing, paired with an adorable blush on his cheeks. Hearing it from Nayeon, the shameless grin on her lips and the ease of champagne on her breath is much more entertaining. “Rina, do you remember when Jungkook set up her desk with rose petals and chocolate in a little heart? And then in the morning the janitor sweeped it up? He was so sad!”

“Yes! I really felt for him,” Rina pouted.

“Oh, poor baby,” you didn’t know that bit of information. You put a hand over your heart, watching as Jungkook shares a drink with his old friend Kim Mingyu. He looks so different, yet all the same since you’ve been acquaintances in high school. He carries his own weight now, an air of confidence that he’s finally reached over time.

“Definitely not a baby anymore,” Rina scoffs. She clicks her tongue back to where Jungkook is seated.

The sun is doing wonders for him, highlighting every crevice of where his biceps curl and twist as he lifts his hand in another drink. Their side of the lawn is doing a toast. For what, you don’t know. You do know however, that Jiyu is trying very hard to cheer right over Jungkook’s thighs, spilling some liquid over his knees. You smirk when Jiyu sends him an apologetic grin, dabbing a napkin up and across his thighs, far away from the wet spot.

Jungkook, the poor guy, discreetly shoves her off. He brushes his hands and gets up, letting Jiyu fall back in the hammock all by herself. Avoiding the teasing gazes of his friends, he looks into the lake, hiding his blush.

Still a baby, you think. Your baby.

“Jiyu was practically sitting in your lap, baby boy,” you card your hand through his dark locks, fresh and shiny from the shower. The feeling is soothing to Jungkook’s scalp until you tug, arching his neck towards your lips and twisting, “did you like that,” you mumble into his Adam’s apple, “my little slut?”

“N-no! Never, ohgodnever—” Jungkook is sweating, fat beads rolling down his hairline and glistening across his face. His fingers are practically phasing through your skin, the crescents of his fingernails sinking into the swell of your bottom.

You clench around his dick, your soft folds urging Jungkook closer to his release. But he knows better not to move, and instead shudders from the ministrations, breaking apart from you to dip his head into your chest. His nose pokes at the bouncy flesh, nuzzling into your breast like the softest pillow.

“Sh-shit, love,” he cries into your skin, “you feel so warm n’soft.”

“You need to be quiet, baby,” you murmur, playing with the curls that hang around the nape of his neck, “unless—you want someone to hear? My little slut wants everyone to hear that I’m fucking you?”

“Mm, no,” you grin at his honest reaction, and you can feel his neck heating up at the thought. Your fingers make their way, finally ending towards the apples of his cheeks. You squish lightly, loving the way his tanned skin puffs under your fingers. “I’m—ah—not a slut. I just really love you, only you. Really wanted to hold you in my lap today and show you off,” he whimpers at the unconscious clench of your folds, “just uh—slut for you, love.”

You giggle, tightening your thighs around your boyfriend’s tiny waist. Your other hands trail down to the ridges of his abdomen, where you two are connected. You absolutely love the way your thighs wrap around his lean waist.

Jiyu split the floors by girls and boys, as if you’re still in high school. It took forever for everyone to fall asleep, but you managed to sneak away with your bare feet slapping against the hardwood floor. Call yourself needy, but you couldn’t imagine yourself falling asleep with at least one good night kiss. Jungkook was ten steps ahead of you. Your boyfriend was already naked when you arrived, pumping his cock across the bed and getting himself ready for you. His eyes instantly zeroed in on you in his shirt, the black material hanging off your shoulder and begging to be pulled away by his teeth.

“If I crawled in your lap today,” you murmur into his shoulder, “our whole secret would’ve been thrown out the window.”

“I wouldn’t have minded, even if Jiyu got hurt,” Jungkook admits, running his hands up and down your back, “I wanna marry you, y’know.”

You freeze in your ministrations, suddenly feeling the room go cold. Not in an unpleasant way, but the room freezes, the blue-white light of the moon igniting the seriousness in Jungkook’s gaze. You force yourself to stay on his lap, let his cock settle between your folds. The juices of your coupling are dripping down each other’s legs, cooling at your thighs and onto the white blankets.

“You wanna marry me?” you echo, running your thumbs across his shiny lips.

Of course, you’re at that age. Everyone around you is getting married, heck many people your age are already in the middle of creating a family, going on vacations to Disney and picnics in the playground. And yes, you also have thought about marrying Jungkook, he’s the only man you can picture marrying. Yet, hearing it out loud and from him only further fuels your desire to make these thoughts a reality.

He kisses your thumbs, lips smushing against the pads. “Of course I do, love. You’re it for me.”

You relinquish, slowly pulling yourself off of him. He’s still hard as you untack yourself, his member slapping against his belly button as he watches you in confusion. You make a show of fluffing up the pillows, arching your back and wiggling your ass as you make yourself comfortable to lay on your back.

“Show me, baby,” you spread your legs for him, gesturing for him to come closer with a curl of your finger, “show me how much you want to marry me.”

Jungkook smirks, hands immediately pumping with a squelching sound resulting from yours and his combined arousal. You love it when Jungkook takes the lead, just as much as you do. It makes you feel like a pillow princess, especially when you feel lovey sex is on the way. “Will you be quiet? Just like you tried to make me quiet?” he rasps, wrapping a hand around your waist to arch you up.

“Depends on how good you are.”

The head of his dick rubs against your clit, slapping lightly at the shiny skin. You both moan when he finally gives you what you both need. As soon as the tip of his dick sinks down, you feel like you’ve both hit home. It doesn’t take long for him to find his pace, naturally throwing your leg over his shoulder for added leverage.

“Oh—fuck, baby,” you tug at his hair, pulling him in for a wet kiss. You don’t care that you’re slobbering all over him, the bed creaking and squeaking against his minstraitions. “I—uh, you feel so deep—yes!”

“When we’re married I’ll fuck you every day like this, love,” he whispers between your lips, thrusting in a particularly sensitive spot that has you arching your back and pulling your chest to his, “I—ugh, I love you so much.”

“Love you. Love youlovelove—ah! Kook, I’m—”

The two of you don’t spare any time, the sun will eventually rise and you’ll be back to playing strangers. Jungkook pounds you into the mattress, nails you with enough cum for you to last the next day without having to sneak into each other’s room like horny teenagers. The roughness is smoothed out by love and bliss, eager at the thought of going home and anticipating a permanent life together.

Five minutes later, you’re starting to feel a little too sticky. “Ohmygod—I need to fucking pee,” you pull yourself away from Jungkook’s sweaty body, palming around for your t-shirt.

“Just pee on the bed,” Jungkook grins.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you,” you make a face, “nasty.”

“You like that I’m nasty.”

“Yeah yeah.”

With one last kiss, you skip away from his bedroom and close the door behind you. Unfortunately, as soon as you take five steps in the direction of the bathroom, somebody emerges from the shadows.

“Holy shit, Jiyu,” you put a hand on your heart, eyes widening at her peeking in from the hallway. “You scared me.”

“I’m so sorry,” she frowns, squinting her eyes to make you out in the dark. It’s easier to see her in her white slip, a thin chiffon material that barely covers her thighs.

You don’t question why she’s out in the hallway in really pretty lingerie, or why she’s on the boy’s side of the house. So much for being discreet. Then again, there must be an ulterior motive for her if she’s already here, five feet away from Jungkook’s room. You wouldn’t have been caught if she hadn’t been so sneaky. (Well, not so sneaky. You got to him first.) You smell like sweat, arousal, and Jungkook. The shirt you’re wearing feels far too short and the cum in your panties feels tacky and gooey. You feel like a teenager being caught smoking.

“Why?” Jiyu’s voice suddenly sounds as dark as the early morning, no sign of the sun.

“Why what?” you answer, furrowing your brows at the sudden change in demeanor.

“Why?” she hisses, eyes wide with pain and confusion, “why Jungkook?”

You frown, not liking her attitude. Did she think it was a contest to who would fuck Jungkook first? Did she think she was being slick, sneaking away into a bedroom she has no business being in, even if he was single? You could laugh. So despite your height you steel yourself, looking at Jiyu straight in the eye.

“Because Jungkook’s mine, and I’m marrying him.”

As you pad down the hallway as fast as you can, you send Jungkook a quick text.

[5:44AM] love: pack it up. Plan b go fake a fever we gotta go lol

#jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #btsghostie #kwritersworldnet #btswritingcafe #btsguild #jungkook fic #jungkook fluff #bts fic #bts smut

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myonepiece · 4 years ago

Note

hi i was wondering if you could do some headcannons asl + law (separately) with a male s/o whos maybe more about open their relationship and basically a non shy!male. sfw & nsfw would be appreciated but its up to you !! enjoy your day/night and just know i love ur account :)

Ace, Sabo, Luffy, Law with an extroverted S/O (open about their relationship)

SFW + NSFW

Ace x non shy!male, Sabo x non shy!male, Luffy x non shy!male,

Law x non shy!male

Description: HCs of Ace, Sabo, Luffy, & Law (seperate) with an extroverted male s/o who is open about theur relationship

Warnings: partially NSFW

A/N: I need more male reader content I think I literally only have 2 posts 😅 I’m not 100% confident in my writing for male readers, I’m still learning and I apologize if there’s anything wrong with this & pls tell me if there is 💕

Ace NSFW, Luffy, Sabo, Law under the cut

SFW

Ace really wants someone who is open about their relationship with him, who’s proud to be dating him and shows him off. Ace wants to be able to show him off to everyone without making him uncomfortable, he loves that not only can he hug him and kiss him and smother him in affection publicly, but that he’ll initiate it himself aswell

he likes picking him up and throwing him over his shoulder in front of the crew, hearing their saracastic remarks to quit it, of course none of them would really have a problem with it in the first place, they loved seeing their brother so happy and in love- because it’s obvious Ace is in love. one of his favorite things to do is to find his boyfriend on deck and run over to scoop him into his arms and plop him on his lap for sleepy time

the fact that he gets to hold his hand without worrying about his embarrassment or discomfort, mostly because his boyfriend is the one who grabs his hand first, makes him all giddy and bubbly. it gives him a sense of perotection, that his boyfriend is by his side and Ace by his, it’s an easy way to let everyone else know that Ace is with him and they shouldn’t try anything

telling stories about him and their relationship, the special moments and the funny moments, telling them to the crew and laughing and listening to them “oooo” and “awhh” is another one of Ace’s favorite things. not only Ace loves how comfortable and open he is, but the Whitebeard crew does too- hearing embarrassing stories about their brother or seeing how whipped he is and teasing him for it. Whitebeard loves knowing that Ace has someone to look after him when he’s gone, and to give him the love that he deserves- Whitebeard is like Ace’s boyfriend’s #1 fan, huge supporter of their relationship and anyone who isn’t is gonna deal with him & the rest of the crew

he’s a sucker for his lover’s mushy love confessions and compliments, saying them so boldly and shamelessly in front of people gives him butterflies in his stomach and makes him blush, yes Ace can get flustered

NSFW

the public dirty talk is just- he’ll go up and put his hands around his boyfriend’s torso and whisper the perviest things in his ear “your ass looks nice today”, “I can see the hickies I left last night” “no ones at the back of the boat, how bout I go bend you over the railing hm?”

and if he do the same to Ace? whoo boy, he goes weak in the knees and I’m not kidding, whimpers right there, or if he’s more fiery that night, he growls

Ace has no problem kissing his s/o in public, and if it turns into a makeout session, so be it. however he tries to keep those public makeouts short so none of the crew get uncomfortable. Ace will keep him on his lap until the two can go somewhere more private

as much as Ace loves how open his boyfriend is with their relationship, he doesn’t want him to tell any of the crew what goes on in the bedroom when Ace is the sub, that does happen- Ace is a switch with more dom tendencies, but still a switch

Ace will literally go up to his boyfriend on deck and grope his ass from behind, using his own body to shield his actions from anyone else’s eyes. and he sometimes will just boldly grab his boyfriend’s dick/groin, as long as Whitebeard doesn’t see

SFW

Sabo can be confident or flustered, no in between. he’s so happy that his boyfriend is completely okay with their relationship and letting everyone know about it. he feels like that means he’s not ashamed to be with Sabo, it also means that if Sabo is ever feeling down it won’t be weird for him to find his boyfriend, and Sabo wants to be tehre for him as much as he can and he wouldn’t be able to do that as well if they had to hide their relationship

he likes that everyone at in the R.A. knows his lover and say hi when passing, Koala and him are like best friends- that’s probably the only part of his boyfriend’s open-nesss that he doesn’t like, Koala and him always share humiliating stories and tease Sabo about everything

Sabo is touch starved, thank god his boyfriend is 100% okay with pda, seriously Sabo has to/wants to hold his hand every second. public hugs, hand holding, and nose kisses are a must. Sabo adores kissing him on his nose or cheek. Koala always fake gags when Sabo is the one to initiate any affection, but when his boyfriend does it Koala always “awhh”s

just being able to sit with his boyfriend on his lap, or sitting on his boyfriend’s lap is amazing, providing a sense of peace in the hectic life of his

Sabo gives little gifts and trinkets to him, and always shows off the ones he gets from him. Sabo is constantly talking or bragging about him, and always blushes whenever it’s reversed

NSFW

Sabo is pretty shy when it comes to sex/sex related things, he likes it to be private

however, he’s a sucker for his boyfriend, so if he wants to get touchy in public, Sabo won’t exactly stop him- neck kisses and groping are things Sabo loves, giving and recieving

at least with pda being a normal with the two of them, when Sabo is needy and wraps his arms around his boyfriend’s waitst to pull him against him specifically holding his ass against his front, it’s not deemed suspicious by anyone

as for hikeys, he doesn’t really like to be seen with them, but he loves seeing his boyfriend adorning them and he loves seeing him wear them proudly

Sabo likes keeping his hand on his lover’s thigh, sliding it closer and closer to a certain part and feeling his boyfriend shiver and harden under his touch

he makes subtle suggestive comments, flying under the radar so that only him and his boyfriend understand, though sometimes his boyfriend gives it away on accident, or not, and Sabo turns red

SFW

Luffy is not shy whatsoever, constantly clinging to his boyfriend and with his grin growing even wider when he hugs Luffy tighter against him

numerous kisses and hugs and touches throughout the day, not a second he’s not holding on to his lover. piggy back rides and shoulder rides are a given, and having his partner cling onto him like a koala leaves Luffy grinning for the rest of the day

Luffy is overall jsut himself, not really changing anything except he’s a bit more lovey-dovey and sentimental, he puts his hat on him a lot and is often in extremely close proximity, never once leaving his side- and Luffy feels secure and safe when his boyfriend returns the action

during fights Luffy loves to tell everyone who he’s dating, yelling things like “I’m dating him!” “Go ______! I love you!!”

ah that’s another thing, constantly saying “I love you”, every greeting and goodbye and moments in between is littered with the words, always accompanied by a rather sloppy kiss

Luffy doesn’t care who’s watching, he’s just as open as his boyfriend- 10x more actually

one thing he does like though, that not many people would think about, is purely having someone waiting for him, staying at his side and embracing him anytime. Luffy has had his fair share of losses, he doesn’t show it but deep down he’s riddled with guilt and pain and sadness and fear, he doesn’t want to lose another person. holding his lover after a battle, after a nightmare, makes him feel better because he knows he’s still there with Luffy. being able to run to him and let down his captain facade and just cry into his partner is something that Luffy desperately needs and loves

NSFW

Luffy is shameless, the most shameless op character, there is nothing he won’t do in front of the crew, yeah I’m implying public sex- deal with it

Luffy will walk right up to him and start a heated makeout session, ignoring any protests from the crew- he will fuck him right then and there, annd also wouldn’t mind being taken right then and there- or probably at least moving to a different part of the deck because he knows that his crew would be very uncomfrtable at that, it’s not embarrassing to do it he just cares about his crew’s feelings too

but on the back deck, against the walls, in the crowsnest, all free territory- Luffys even done it with him on the ladder up to the crows nest, those rubber arms are very useful

speaking of rubber arms, he has like his own version of bondage, purely cosisting of his arms and legs and hands, wrapping his arms around his boyfriends arms so he can hold them behind his while Luffy fucks him doggy style

Luffy is also definitely a switch, down for any position too, serioulsy those rubber powers are no joke, he can do any position, though he does prefer close contact ones where the two of them can hold each other

Luffy is KINKY- yes I said he is kinky! he doesn’t know what a kink is nor that he one (many) he just thinks it’s something he likes. but, no talks of another person, no pain to either unless it’s spanking, no blood, no degradation unless his boyfriend asks for it (he’s not very good at it though)

Luffy is loud, he loves that his lover is loud too, and is fine wwith him leaving hickeys or scratch marks- because Luffy is totally fine adorning those himself

SFW

Law is not very open about his relationship, I mean he’s completely fine telling his crew and the strawhats and the kid pirates, the crews he knows, but telling anyone else wworries him because he doesn’t really want him to be a known associate because people would come after him to get to Law

he would prefer if his boyfriend kept their reltionship details private, he doesn’t want to be embarrassed by any stories he has of him, and he likes to be very private man overall, he would actually get quite irritated f his lover is very open about what happens in their reltionshp- again Law has no problem about allies or somewhat allies knowing, everyone could know iabout the relationship to be honest, if they wouldn’t all go after his boyfriend because of the connection

Law does secretly love how “okay” he is being in a reltionship with him, dating such a broken and “evil” man. Law is actually very insecure, hiding it well though, and he loves that he has someone to show him the love he rarely ever felt when he was younger, having someone tell him he’s sweet and charming and kind and loveable hit Law right in his heart

that last paragraph of Luffy’s sfw kind of sums up Law’s take on his boyfriend’s open-ness

Law is touch starved, on the ship or in private on an island, with no or barely any people around, he’ll hold his hand and/or have an arm around his wait or shoulder, and he doesn’t mind if his lover does the same. in public if his boyfriend were to initiate any physical affection, Law would try to get him to tone it down, keep it minimal, but he doesn’t want to be rude either so he would go along with it to some extent

in private though he’s touchy and he really wwants to be praised, he also praises his boyfriend a lot because he is just so whipped for him, often thanking him for loving someone like Law, being there for him and offering a safe haven that he rarely has the chance to have- if ever

NSFW

again, Law is a private man, he doesn’t want to make his crew. too uncomfortable, but if his boyfriend were to start something or Law is feeling especially needy, he wouldn’t hesitate to tell the crew to leave the room or simply gare at them

he likes flustering his boyfriend, seeing someone who is usually so shameless, blush and stutter and get shy, is one of Law’s favorite things

he’s a major tease, similar to Ace with his dirty talk, except the deepness of his voice makes it sound 100x dirtier. one can’t fluster him by whispering dirty talk, his lover just can’t, he can make him hard but flustered is a no go. however, saying something dirty/suggestive out loud infront of people, that would do something- most likely resulting in either a scolding, punishment sex, or both

grind on him and he’ll growl, on certain occasions he has no problem throwig you over his shoulder and. taking you away from the public eye, but don’t try to do the same to him- Law is the dominant one in public and 8/10 of the time during sex

he’s not opposed to being the bottom, but he prefers to top

he lovex that his boyfriend is completely fine with him leaving hickeys and scratches and. just marks in general, it shows he’s taken and makes Law feel proud- Law however likes his marks to be hidden

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tatertotthethot · 5 years ago

Text

The Doms Next Door 2.0

THIS IS A TEMPORARY REUPLOAD FOR THIS CHAPTER CUZ TUMBLR IS RAN BY A BUNCH OF BOTS. 2.1 HERE

Warnings/AN: frequent, casually cursing; comical, gay Jimin; insecure reader; steamy flirting; tattoo/sexualized Tae 🙃. Enjoy~ (TAEKOOK EDIT ABOVE IS ARTKOOK DONE BY NONCONMAN ON INSTAGRAM)

_________________________________

Your tires came to a stop outside of the tattoo shop you've seen online— a brick building, covered in spray paint and street-style art. A sign buzzed over the awning of the entrance doors, with the built-in UV lights and graffiti-styled font displaying the name of the place in neon-red letters. Kink For Ink! The name alone was what first caught your attention last week, when you Googled "Tattoo shops near me" and it pulled up a list, with "Kink For Ink" being the first option. It just seemed so uncanny and fitting at the time, considering the previous run-in you just had with the sex-crazed neighbors a couple nights before. You couldn't help but to click the link to their Instagram.

A profile came up with 53.4k followers, which immediately blew your mind... but you quickly saw why. Every tattoo and piercing, no matter the body-placement, skin-type, or quirky design, was vividly appealing— certainly done by the articulate hands of certified experts. Even in the comments of the piercings that were posted, people were praising them for the "minimal" amount of pain they experienced, despite the fact that some of piercings were done in places you couldn't even fathom the thought of having a needle jammed through.

It said in the bio that the shop is owned by the two artists that work there— Kim Taehyung and Jeon Jungkook. You couldn't find out much about them, all their pictures showed was their work. You even went back to search for a personal account of their own, but nothing came up. You then went back to the bio and clicked a link to the official website, hoping to find out something, but you were met with a disclaimer rule at the top that automatically deemed your chances of even getting your piece done by them, slim-to-none.

• No walk-ins allowed.

• Every request/idea must be sent in through the DMs of our Instagram page. You will only be accepted only if it spikes our personal interests.

Yikes; You were instantly discouraged by this. The piece you wanted was something so common and cliché, that you actually got the image out of a child's coloring book.... It was the cartoon layout of the glass vase and enchanted rose, from the Beauty and the Beast movie. Cheesy, yes. But it was something of personal, nostalgic value. You remember when you were little— roughly around 3 or 4 years of age— when your parents started fighting and would spend all day screaming and throwing things at each other, putting you in a constant state of anxiety. But then you'd go to bed at night and pop the VHS tape, and the movie never failed to put you in a peaceful state of mind— a hopeful one. It's remained as your all-time favorite love story throughout the years. Which, is ironic, considering that the relationship itself was different, but almost as dysfunctional as your parent's. However, the fact that even the Beast was capable of change, and everything wound up so perfect and happy in the end, makes your heart happy. And even now, at age 19, it still puts you in your feelings. The previous remake of a movie is what actually inspired you to get the enchanted rose as a tattoo, after seeing it in 3D not too long ago. But you're only willing to shell out up to $200 for it, at most. You've just started college, and even though Jimin's parents own the house and let the two of you live there, rent free, you're still responsible for half the utility bills from month to month. Blowing every bit of money you have saved up, right at the start of the semester, would just be irresponsible. But $200 was manageable, and you're looking for anything that'll give you a little extra "oomph" to break you out of this introverted shell you've always known. Pushing it off would just delay it, and you were ready for change. The nose piercing you want is just a small little thing that'll hopefully add a bit of flare to the features of your face. These two guys could probably do the piercing/tattoo with a blindfold on and a hand tied behind their back. So, if it meant that you'd be able to get these things done in confidence, without having to worry about the outcome, you figured it wouldn't hurt for you to at least ask, even if they straight-up ignore you. So, after spending an unnecessary amount of time overthinking the wording of your text, you finally constructed a message in your notes and DM'd it to business page, after sending them a small, simple outline of the cartoony rose, and pressed send.

• You: Hello! I've been wanting to get this tattoo done for a very while now, and was hoping one of you will be willing to do it for me... along with piercing my nose? I know it's a very mediocre and cliché piece, and a nose piercing can be done anywhere. But I'm new to the area and I've never gotten a tattoo/piercing done before and I haven't really checked out any other places either because I found this page first. And from what I can see, you guys are pretty efficient and CRAZY talented. So, I trust it'll get done right.... only if you want to! I'm willing to pay $200 for this, but if it costs that much for just the outline I've sent then that's fine as well. But I understand if neither of you want to do it cuz that is really cheap compared to the ones I've seen lol. But either way, thx for ur time 😁

A few minutes went by and you had just unlocked your phone to check the message again, when the word "seen" popped below the message. You held your breath for a second— but seconds turned to minutes, and time went by with no reply, what-so-ever. You figured maybe you sounded a little too immature to take seriously; kind of like a prepubescent 12-year-old asking someone out for a dance... and you blew it. Which was disappointing, but predictable. So fuck it. Maybe it's a sign; you shouldn't get it after all.

11pm rolled around, many hours later. You were now hiding beneath your covers, beginning your "amateur threesome" exploration on PornHub. You were ready to see what this whole "2 guys, 1 girl" thing was all about. But just when you were about to type it into the search bar, you were interrupted by an Instagram notification dropping down from the top of your screen.

"KinkForInk sent you a message."

You audibly gasped, eyes turning to saucers as you clicked on the notif and switched over to the Instagram app.

• KinkForInk: Hi (Y/N). This is Tae, one of the artists of the shop. The tattoo you sent in is worth roughly $100... but I want to run an offer by you in hopes that you'll be interested.

— Your brows scrunched in oddity, stomach fluttering. An offer? For you?

• You: Okay, sure. What's that?

• KinkForInk: I've been looking for someone willing to showcase the custom design I've come up with, specifically for a much more... exclusive version of the Beauty and the Beast tattoo you sent. And if you'd be down for letting me and my partner put it on you, it'll be free. No charge. BUT you'll also have to sign a contract saying that you'll do a little bit of modeling for us once it's done. You think you'd be in to doing something like that, even if you get it?

— Your head spun for a second, reading the message over and over again until you could fully wrap your mind around what he was saying.

• You: Hold on... YOU wanna put a tattoo on ME so that I model for you? And it's FREE? Are you sure about this? I'm not even model material lol.

• KinkForInk: Yes, yes, and yes, you are. You'd be perfect for this.

• You: How do know that? Is it a face tattoo? Cuz I only have 6 selfies on here and you can't see anything past my shoulders.

—"Seen" came up as soon as you hit send, but a couple of minutes rolled by with no reply to the message, nor was he even typing. Maybe you came off a little rude. But it was already sketchy and it was a logical question.

— An image suddenly popped up: a screenshot of your Facebook profile. Then another— and much to your horror, it was the photo Jimin tagged you in last week, when the two of you were swimming at a local community pool. You were wearing a simple two piece, sitting at the foot of the lawn chair Jimin was also sitting in, as his legs were visible on either side of you and his lap was practically framing your ass. The photo was at an upward angle and looked so scandalous— but really, you had just asked Jimin to put sun screen on your back and he didn't want to stand up because the pavement was too hot against his bare feet. But you actually liked the picture at the time; it was just a silly joke and your ass actually looked quite nice from that angle. Plus, everyone knows nothing sexual actually goes on between the two of you, for obvious reasons. But Taehyung doesn't, so you couldn't help but dreadfully cringe when you saw the caption of the screen shot.

"Babymama 💦🍆"

• KinkForInk: Is this you??

• You: Yes, that's me. The caption is a joke tho... pay no mind to that. But this is like, really happening? You really think it'd look good on me?

— Why that picture though? You couldn't help but wonder.

• KinkForInk: Yes. Like I said, you're perfect for this piece. Are you down to at least see what the tattoo will look like? We don't expect you to be experienced with modeling or anything, but if you listen to us and cooperate, you'll do just fine.

• You: Yes I wanna see, and I'll do the best I can if I decide to get it... I'm just a bit shy, is all.

• KinkForInk: You'll be in good hands. I promise.

• You: Okay... are you going to show me??

• KinkForInk: Can't send it over a message, I don't want it plagiarized or the concept stolen. But the piece itself isn't necessarily crazy or anything, just more creative. I'd be more than happy to show you at my shop some day this week, if you'd be willing to swing by.

• You: Yeah, I can do that. When should I come?

• KinkForInk: Are you available after 5 tomorrow?

• You: I am, I get off at 4:30.

• KinkForInk: Great. Be here by 5:30, and make sure you've eaten in case you like the piece and wanna get started. It's pretty big for a first timer and gonna take a lot of time and patience. It'll have to be done in sessions but I hope you have a fair enough pain tolerance to at least get the outline of it done first.

— It can't be any worse than a bikini wax, you thought, shivering at the memory. That a story for another time. You decided on an alternative scenario.

• You: I give blood from time to time... but that's easy and doesn't really hurt that much. I think I can handle it though... maybe. I honestly don't know lol, I'm sorry 😣. But I can try my best. Can I ask where it's supposed to go?

• KinkForInk: That's okay, I'll work with you. It's supposed to go down the middle of your back. Starts between the center of your shoulder blades, and trails down the length of your spine to your lower lumbar. You'll see how it looks once we transfer a template on your back. But if you don't like it, there will be no hard feelings from my end. I can still do the tattoo you want if that's the case, free of charge just for your time.

• You: Oh no, you don't have to do that! I'd still pay!

• KinkForInk: Not if I don't accept your money. Trust me, I'm not worried about it. The nose piercing is gonna be $30 regardless, though. JK isn't so lenient.

• You: Of course. Will I have to take my shirt and bra off for the tattoo?

• KinkForInk: Yes, and for the pictures once it's done.

— Your mind blanked at that; thumbs froze over the keypad. He was typing again.

• KinkForInk: Don't let that discourage you. Again, you're in good hands. You can bring something to cover your chest. And the pics will be if your back as well.

• You: Okay, I can handle that. So 5:30 tomorrow?

• KinkForInk: Yes, please don't flake on us!

• You: Lol, I won't. I'll be there.

"They're gonna knock us the fuck out and sell our organs to the black market," Jimin declared. He had parked next to you outside of the shop, and was now sitting in the driver seat of his car with his door locked and windows all the way up, refusing to get out. You were standing right outside his door, still having to talk on the phone. "And is this Tae-guy an AllState representative or something?"

Jimin is petty. You wanted him here for moral support— which he's usually reliable for— but this time, he's just plain salty right and doing everything he can to remind you of that. Reason is, he's been begging you to get a matching tattoo with him ever since your 18th birthday, and you've always refused because of what he wanted to get.

Cupcakes. Jimin wanted to get matching cupcake tattoos... in honor of Cupcakke the legend. Sorry, but H E L L no.

You rolled your eyes, growing frustrated. He only has enough time to pop in and confirm that these two aren't gonna kill you, and then he's gotta head home to get ready for work. You were already supposed to be in there. It was 5:33pm, 3 minutes past the time.

"Jimin, you're the one that insisted on coming along! And now you're making me late!" you ranted. "I'm going in without you."

"Hold your horses, hoe! I'm finishing my blueberry slushie," He retorted, sassily bringing the straw to his mouth and loudly slurping it into the phone. He then abruptly flinched away from the straw with a disgusted expression, nostrils flared, body locking up; lips drawing into an air-tight knot that was so extreme and unnatural, it caused an ugly snort to break out of your nose.

He smacked his lips in exaggeration to the taste, face falling back into stone as an eyebrow arched over the top of his aviators; unamused and saltier than before... Like you were at fault for that, too.

"Or... Blueberry-ass, I should say."

That forced another giggle out of you as Jimin stiffly rolled his window down, phone still pressed to his ear and eyes still scowling at you behind the inspector shades. He bit down on the straw and withdrew it with his teeth before dumping the dark-blue contents of the drink out of the window, making it a point to shake the styrofoam cup empty of every drop before tossing it over his shoulder and into back seat. He then spat the straw out of his mouth with an audible "PLUUUUH!" of a French accent, and waited until the window rolled all the way up again, just so he could hang up the phone. You scoffed at this as you shoved your phone back into your pocket, scornfully watching Jimin exit the car and slam the door behind him. He snatched his glasses off his face as his cotton-candy hair swayed in the breeze, revealing his scornful eyes right back at you as he gestured for you to lead the way in exasperated manner— as if you were the one wasting his time now.

"Go on, lead us to the grave," He shooed, a snippy little shit. You sauntered away, walking up the side of the shop, then paused just before reaching the glass entrance door, when you remembered how much of a coward you are. You've never even stepped into a parlor before, and supposedly, this was a famous one. Which makes it more and more surreal when you think about it.

"Are we doing the mannequin challenge now? Is that what we're doing?" Jimin sardonically inquired.

"You go first, I'm nervous!" You whisper-hissed.

"You don't want me to go in there first— I'll show out," he reasoned, simply stating a fact.

"Please don't," you whined.

"Then, again, I'll show out?" He reiterated, as if to say duh. "How else am I supposed to break the ice? I look like Timmy Turner's Fairy-Gay- Parent."

You gave him a wary look... he's right. You sighed, slightly kicking your foot in distracted defeat. Fuck, you hated making an entrance to new places—

"Hold up— is that Drake?" Jimin suddenly blurted, holding his hand up to silence you. You honed in on the muffled track playing from behind the glass door, and Jimin's face soon light up like a Christmas tree before he spun around you, unstoppable.

"Jimin, NO—!"

"KIKI, DO YOU LOVE ME—?!"

It was already too late. The door was flying back behind him as he Milly-Rocked his way into the shop, leaving you no choice but the chase in behind him.

"—ARE YOU RIDING? SAY YOU'LL NEVA-EVA LEAVE FROM BESIDE ME— hello there."

You were panting, coming to a stop right behind Jimin, where you instantly latched on to the back of his shirt as you met the face of the man behind the studio counter. And, as corny as this is gonna sound: the world actually stilled for a solid beat... or maybe you were in the verge of cardiac arrest.

A pair of glossy-Black eyes looked up at the two of you; A series of silver-studded earrings trailed along the outer cartilages, peaking out beneath a head of soft, layer-swept hair. It was a Carmel-tinted blonde in color— thick and shaggy, and neatly spilling in waves around a headband that proudly sported a high-dollar brand-name you've never seen anyone wear in person before. G U C C I, it read— Meaning that the headband alone was probably worth more than some of your college text books, put together. It sat just a few inches above a pair of dark brows, that oddly brought out the shape of his cat-like eyes— irises like polished marbles. His ample lips had a sharp, well-defined Cupid's-bow, and a natural shade of pink that fit the porcelain appearance of his melanin-kissed complexion, to the finest degree.

And here you are, looking like an actual bum. You had just enough time to clock out of work and head straight over here to make it in time. You didn't even have any makeup on, and the only thing hiding your raggedy hair from those captivating eyes is your old baseball cap from high school. It took a second for him to take the bold presence that was Park Jimin— who was also frozen to the spot as he openly checked the guy out. He was hunched over the counter, a v-neck hoodie covering the rest of him with a thin, loose-fitting material. It was Black and allowed a full visual of his tan neck, and prominent collar bones. And it certainly didn't hide the fact that he had a pair of wide-set shoulders, either. A pencil sat in his hand— one that was laced with masculine veins, and lot of decorative ink. There was a silver ring on his thumb.. and a very heavy-looking Rolex watch.

The man cracked a grin at Jimin— a boxy one that dimpled in at the corners.

"Love the hair," he humorously began, twisting a quirky eyebrow at Jimin. You subconsciously snagged the bill of your hat as your eyes went a little wide at how mature the man's voice was.

"Love the watch," Jimin retorted, then reached around and gripped you by the wrist before pulling you into full view beside him. "You wouldn't happen to be Taehyung...?"

"Mhm," the man hummed, absentmindedly moving his wrist at the mention of his watch. His eyes cut over to you, and you swore you could see a minuscule reflection of yourself in his eyes, before they flashed back at Jimin and blinked. "You must be the babydaddy?"

Blood rushes to your ears. It's really him... a guy who looks like a high-dollar model himself, asking you to be his canvas model. Your own conscious didn't even know what to say right now. So you stayed quiet and still as Jimin took charge... which was a mistake.

"She wishes, but no. I'm the best-friend— and a gay one, at that," Jimin replied, and you knew he did that for his benefit. Thot. "I'm just here to make sure you're not gonna sacrifice her to Satan, or anything of that nature. I need her around in case I ever forget the Netflix password."

Taehyung chuckled at that, mouth opening to reveal a row of teeth shinier than Chip Skylark's. But then, you caught something behind his teeth that caused your gut to leap. A silver ball... a tongue ring. Your thoughts clouded over for a second.

"Well, I can assure you, she's safe with me," he said, looking over at you again. You blinked, nothing more. His brow arched at your lack of response, but this time, it was done more handsomely as he was still smirking at you. "Still, you don't look too thrilled to be here... You sure you wanna do this?"

"She's just nervous because you're really fucking hot," Jimin announced, unyielding. "You should feel how sweaty her hand is."

"Don't listen to him— I'm gay too," You lied in panic, trying to defend yourself from the absolute truth Jimin spoke just then. You snatched your hand away from him and jutted a finger at the door, eyes beading and lid twitching as your nerves ran amuck. "Goodbye, Jimin."

"She's a lonesome hetero," Jimin told Taehyung, assuring him with a face that showed no bluff. "One look at her camera roll, and you'd see for yourself—" You were yanking him away by the arm now, in a tug-of-war game that Jimin obviously could've won if he really wanted to. But he figured you suffered enough and eventually let you drag him out of the shop, waving bye to Taehyung before turning to look at you with beading eyes.

"I think he wants to fuck you— text me as soon as you can," Jimin uttered with unmoving lips as before he walked to his car. You stopped for a second, noticing he was actually being serious. How could he possibly think that he wants to fuck you, just from that small encounter? And what is the odd sensation currently coiling in your stomach? Things grew awkward again when you re-entered the shop, coming to a stand at the same spot... only alone now. He was still amused, it seemed. And so calm and cool despite this odd, intense look in his eyes. It gave him a Casanova effect, where all he had to do was give you that look and it'd instantly make you blush.

"He seems like a fun person to be around," he noted, somewhat honestly, but more so making fun of the red-hot appearance of your face.

"He's a pain in the ass," you muttered, trying to conjure up a smirk but hardly even able to speak properly from how dry your mouth was. It felt like there was a white-hot iron expanding in your throat. "I'm really sorry about him."

"Don't be. I'm just glad you're here— thought you'd chicken out." You nervously wiped your clammy palms over the back pockets of your jeans as Taehyung got up from the barstool behind the counter and approached you on the other side of it, a whole head-and-a-half taller than you. He was wearing black cardigan jeans and matching combat boots.. his headband and jewelry the only thing not black on him. And oddly enough, he made it look fucking fantastic.

"Mh-mm," You hummed, not trusting your voice. You've never needed a sip of water so bad in your life— he even smelled expensive.

"Well, It's very nice to meet you," he formerly began, and you mustered up the normality of placing your (dried) hand into his much larger one, as he held his out to you in greeting. And boy, was he close. So close that the heels of your spine itches to lean back from the proximity.

"It's nice to meet you, too. I'm really sorry if I'm acting weird. I'm just nervous." — Your mind struggled to stay focused on your words, arm tensing at the skin-to-skin contact. You were extra-effected by the firmness in his grip. You really wanted to look down at all the bold ink you saw dashing across the veiny surface of his tanned hand, or see if those were images or scripted letters on the knuckles of lengthy fingers... But you were held captive by those God-blessed eyes... And that fucking tongue ring. It was infecting your head in ways that weren't necessarily healthy for your current state of mind, as you saw it peering in and out at certain words.

"And physically shaking," Taehyung pointed out, brows twitching down at your trembling hand in his as if he was concerned for it. But his smirk gave off an odd sense of fascination to the involuntary symptom, like it was cute or something? Hm. He glanced back up at you, causing your dehydrated throat to bob as his other hand came to clasp over the rest of yours, swallowing it completely from the wrist down. "Intimidated?"

"V-Very," you spluttered, a small slither of saliva copulating down your throat as you looked back up at him. He absentmindedly rolled his tongue ring over the button row of his teeth as he watched you with tainted eyes— undoubtably getting cocky with that damn grin of his and proudly teasing you about your reaction to him. It gratified the effortless sex-appeal he had. You were even beginning to imagine that tongue ring elsewhere, and you literally just met him. Then, as you felt the band of a ring move along with the pad of his thumb as gently ran it across your trembly knuckles, chills shot up all the way to your shoulder. Oh... oh wow. You glanced down at his knuckles on reflex this time, and saw a four-letter word scripted in black ink across the bottom row of his knuckles, and another word scripted on the middle section of his fingers. A silver band on his naked thumb. STAY TRUE, it said.

"And why's that?"

"I.. feel like you're a celebrity," you sheepishly admitted, your other hand wedging into your back pocket as you had to stop yourself from reaching for the bill of your hat again. Is he flirting? The words seem too innocent for the way he was making you feel. It was getting so hot in the oven of his massive palms, and he wasn't even squeezing you hard enough to cut off any circulation, but yet your fingers were beginning to tingle.

"Mm, no. Just a little popular, really," he granted, teetering his head a little as he pondered the thought. You could see his vocal chords contract in his sleek neck as they project his smooth, pungent voice. "You still trust me?"

"Mhm," was all you could muster. He'd gotten even closer, to where his hand had gone into a prayer stance around yours. You were aware of how wide your eyes had gone from the awe you... you knew this was just the beginning. He was going to be very handsy throughout this whole process. But in a very twisted way, you were more than okay with that. Even if it meant you were at risk of fainting from actual dehydration. Maybe you were in over your head. But you couldn't will yourself away from this now. And then, just as a wide, heart-stopping smile edged out on that mind-numbingly handsome face, the door at that back of the room swung open, and heavy-metal rock blasted through the quiet vibe of the scenery and caused you to jump a little at the disturbance. Taehyung shot a wicked smile over his shoulder, and his next words nearly knocked you out right then and there as you beheld yet another, breathtaking sight.

"Oh, there you are," Tae eagerly acknowledged, one hand still holding yours as he walked around to grab your with the other, presenting you to the.. hulking presence in the room. "This is (Y/N), our next little experiment."

936 notes · View notes

songsoomin · 5 years ago

Text

Confidence (S)

Word count: 4,728

Mingi x female reader; you’re in a bar, Mingi hits on you, you’re unsure at first because your self-confidence is really low but you go back to your hotel and good things happen.

This is the first story I’ve ever written so I don’t know if it’s any good. Let me know.

Warnings: Smut, slight Dom!Mingi, slightly degrading names but not said in a nasty way. You are cheating on your husband but he’s an arsehole who treats you badly and you live separate lives.

Posted: 8th June 2020

You were sitting on a stool at one end of the bar, quietly sipping your drink and thinking about how you ended up here alone. It wasn't too noisy, just the hum of groups enjoying drinks on a Friday night but you enjoyed the lighting that was a lower than the obnoxiously bright spotlights of the loud clubs that all the kids went to, as well as the more laid-back atmosphere.

You were just over thirty now and had always thought that your life would be settled and happy by now...but here you were - holidaying alone, your husband back home probably not even giving you a second thought. He didn't care that you wanted to go away alone but then he hadn't cared much about anything you did for some time now. It wasn't always like this, you'd never had much self-confidence, always doubting if people really liked you - you always felt like the outsider even in your friend group - but when you met him he made you feel beautiful and special and your confidence soared but he'd spent the last 8 years slowly stripping away every last shred of it.

You had met as teenagers, fell in love, got married and for a while it was great...but then things went downhill; there was always something wrong with you and he didn't hesitate to let you know that. You didn't wear make up often enough; you didn't wear nice enough clothes; your weight had gone up slightly - everyday there was something he found to put you down about. Affection was only given by him if he thought you'd made enough effort to look nice and if he didn't like what you wore, he would virtually ignore you. It had been going on for years and by now you'd realised it was a type of emotional abuse and you felt utterly worthless. Friends asked why you didn't leave him but you made excuses for him and told them that you loved him but part of you suspected that you were just scared of being alone after all these years - after all, who would want you now? Maybe being with him was better than being all alone.

You'd ended up here because you had just wanted to get away from your life for just a bit, take some time just for you. You'd always wanted to visit Korea and now you could do whatever you wanted and not have to think about anyone else. Your mind, however, was drifting back to your problems now that you were at the bar watching couples and groups of friends having fun. You'd never been a social butterfly but it did feel a little awkward sitting alone and you wondered what people might think of you. Clearly a couple of men had thought you were looking to be picked up because they'd approached you offering a drink but you politely declined - that wasn't what you were after, although they may have thought otherwise as you'd made the effort to look good.

You had on a black dress which wasn't too short but showed off a nice amount of cleavage, high heels, pretty make up - you'd always loved getting dressed up because even if you never truly thought of yourself as good-looking, you knew you looked nice when dressed-up and it gave you back a little bit of the confidence you'd lost. Unfortunately it was usually just the older, slightly creepy guys that came on to you now and that didn't do anything to make you feel any more special. In your experience men always liked women younger than them which was why you thought nothing of it at first when a younger man approached the bar and sat on the stool next to you.

"Can I buy you a drink?"

You looked to where the deep voice came from and saw, possibly, the most beautiful man you'd ever seen. It seemed more appropriate to call a man 'handsome' but this man was something else entirely. 'Handsome' just didn't do him justice. He must've been about 6ft tall, his skin was smooth with dark eyes and plump lips that looked so soft you wanted to touch them. His hair was a deep red colour and was parted to the side, beautifully framing his perfect features. You realised you'd been staring and that he was waiting for an answer.

"Oh...um, no I'm fine, thank you." You smiled politely, trying not to stare too much.

"Are you waiting for someone?"

"No. I'm here alone, actually." You mentally cursed yourself for telling him this, you didn't want to look like a loser.

"Oh, me too. I'm Mingi, by the way." He flashed such a warm smile at you that you immediately felt more comfortable.

"Y/N." You said, relaxing a little more.

The two of you continued drinking and talking for a while, nothing too deep, just about life and things in general. He asked how you were liking Korea and you let on that you weren't just alone in the bar but alone on holiday, as well. He was surprised, after all, it's not that usual for people to holiday alone and he asked you why it was. You really didn't want to give him your life story and seem as pathetic as you felt but he made you feel so comfortable you settled on a shortened version.

"Aahh, well, it's a long story. My husband and I pretty much live separate lives now."

A sympathetic look crossed his face, "Is it okay if I ask why?" He was quick to add "I understand if you don't want to talk about it." after he saw the uncertain look you had.

"It's okay, I guess. Hmmm, well I suppose it's really because we met too young, we turned into different people over time. I'm just not what he wants now. He hasn't wanted me for years to be honest, I'm not attractive enough anymore." you laughed sadly, looking at your hands out of embarrassment.

"That's ridiculous - you're beautiful!"

You looked up at him surprised and quickly looked away, his intense look making you a little self-conscious. "Thanks.." you mumbled "That's kind of you to say."

"I mean it. You are." Mingi gently touched your hand and you felt your heartbeat quicken at the contact. That didn't mean you believed him, though, people tend to say nice things to try and make others feel better if they're sad. The silence that followed felt a little uncomfortable and you were grateful when he changed the conversation to lighten the mood again.

You were talking about foods you both liked and, as he was laughing and asking how on earth you were managing to eat here when you had such a low tolerance for spicy food, you realised you were staring again. He had such a bright smile, it lit up his whole face and you wondered at the duality he had - he seemed to be able to switch from intense and slightly intimidating to looking like a cute, loveable boy within seconds. He was so charming and you were sure he knew that - or, at least, he must've known you thought that by the way you couldn't stop staring like some kind of silly, lovesick teenager. It must've given him the confidence to move further as he carefully moved his hand to rest on your outer thigh and stroked his thumb over the soft skin there. You felt a thrill go through you but tried to tell yourself it was nothing but the fact you'd had no physical attention for so long and you should get a hold of yourself...after all, he was so friendly he was probably touchy with everyone. Your self-confidence was so low after years of being told you weren't good enough that your brain automatically looked for reasons why this touch meant anything other than he liked you.

Mingi's dark eyes looked deep into yours as he slowly trailed his hand a little further up, watching for your reaction, whether it was okay for him to continue. His intense gaze seemed to hold you in place and honestly you really weren't sure how to react to this; it felt so good but your mind was still having trouble grasping the situation. You didn't stop him so he moved further up and under the hem of your dress.

"What are you doing?" You asked, wide-eyed. His dark eyes held yours and he had a small smile on his face. "Don't you like it?"

"I...I do...but...why are you doing it to me?" He seemed somewhat confused at your question so you elaborated, "You can't be interested in me. There are tons of younger, prettier girls around and you're stunning...you could probably have your pick."

"You really don't see yourself clearly, do you? You're beautiful. Your husband really is a piece of crap to have made you feel anything less." His apparent sincerity was making you blush and also feel a strange warmth in your chest that you hadn't felt in a long time. There were other issues though, he was clearly in his early twenties - about 21 you thought - and maybe he didn't realise how much of an age difference there was.

"I've got to be around 10 years older than you!"

"And?"

"Well....I...we can't...", you really didn't know how to finish that sentence while he was looking at you so intensely. You couldn't remember why it was you thought it was a problem.

Mingi leaned in close to your ear and the proximity made you hold your breath; you could feel his warm breath on your ear as he whispered, "I like older women better. They have more experience."

You blinked in surprise - men usually liked younger women.

"How do you know I do? I've only ever been with my husband and it's been so long I can't even remember when the last time was." For the second time you mentally cursed yourself; you couldn't believe you'd just come out with something so private.

"Well, even if you don't, I'll still count myself lucky to be with someone as beautiful as you." You blushed at the slightly corny line.

"It seems like you're the one who knows what he's doing with pick-up lines like that." Mingi smiled cutely, "Is it working then?"

You were wavering, you really wanted this but weren't sure if it was okay. You'd never found yourself in this kind of situation before. When it occasionally happened you'd politely decline men's advances but you'd never had this kind of attention from a man this hot before and, if you were honest, you really did want to say yes.

Mingi could see you wavering and saw his opportunity, he leant in and softly placed his lips on yours. It was just for a second but you could feel his lips were as soft as you had imagined and just before he pulled away you felt Mingi's tongue lightly swipe over your bottom lip.

He knew he had you then seeing as you'd virtually melted into his arms, "What hotel are you staying at?" He had you a bit flustered and you'd forgotten the name so you simply said, "It's just a couple of streets from here." Mingi smiled and took your hand, "Let's go then."

It didn't take long to get to your hotel but instead of going in straight away you paused, "Mingi...maybe you should come up a few minutes after me. The staff might not like me taking a random guy up to my room", you laughed, although a little awkwardly. "Okay," he said in his deep voice that was giving you butterflies "...what's your room number?" You gave him the number and quickly made your way to your room. You were grateful you'd have a few minutes to brush your teeth again and make sure you looked alright - you were feeling nervous and thought some ordinary tasks like that might calm you a little. Once you were done you waited on the edge of the king-sized bed; you hadn't really needed one that big as it was just you but you wanted a little luxury.

The minutes felt like ages and you started to worry he had changed his mind - despite the signals he'd been giving you all night, you just couldn't get the self-doubt out of your mind... Why would he want you? A knock on the door took you from those thought and replaced them with another wave of butterflies in your stomach - you'd never slept with anyone just after meeting them and you really didn't know how to act.

"Hi-" Your words were stopped by him pushing you back in to the room and immediately kissing you. It wasn't as soft as at the bar but full of desire as he took your bottom lip between his and sucked it. A small moan escaped you at the sensation and you felt him smile. He swiped his tongue over your bottom lip and you opened your mouth for him to enter but just as your tongues met he suddenly pulled back. In an instant you were wondering what you had done wrong but he didn't look unhappy, "You have your tongue pierced?" he asked and you realised he must not have noticed it as you were talking earlier. "Oh, um, yeah. You don't mind it do you?" He suddenly smiled, looking very excited "Mind it? I can't wait to see how that feels on my dick. I've never been with anyone with a tongue piercing before." You smiled teasingly, having become a little more confident, "Well, if you're lucky I might let you."

Mingi growled lowly and pulled your head back in towards him, connecting your lips in a more urgent manner. Although he was younger he was dominating the kiss and you were happy to let him, you'd always been the submissive type and the feeling of him dominating you had you heating up. One of his hands was on your back and the other on the back of your head, his fingers in your hair and you wished you could feel them holding you down on the bed instead. He moved his lips down to your neck, leaving wet kisses as he went and when he started licking and sucking on the skin there you melted in to him. Mingi started biting then and it turned you on to feel like he was marking you as his for the night.

The hand on your back moved up and started to pull down the zip of your dress but he paused when he felt you tense. "What's wrong? You do want this, right?" He may have been dominating but he still wanted that reassurance.

"Yeah, so so much but...I'm just a little self-conscious."

Mingi smiled gently, "Y/N, you really are beautiful. Please....let me see you."

He seemed so sincere you felt a bit stupid to let your doubts get in the way of enjoying this moment so you relaxed and nodded to let him know he could go ahead. He pulled your zip down slowly, trying to make you feel more comfortable as he started to expose your body. Once your dress was pooled at your feet Mingi stepped back a little taking in the sight of you with a look of appreciation on his face and you were glad you had worn your lacy black underwear as you always felt it looked the best on you. His warm hands moved up over your soft skin and stopped on your breasts; they'd always been on the generous side and he hummed appreciatively as they were the perfect size for his large hands. Mingi leaned his head down and kissed one of your breast before gently sucking on the skin there. Your nipples were getting hard already and his thumbs stroked them through the thin lace. Another moan escaped you as the sensation went straight down to your core.

Mingi laughed lightly, "I'm going to have fun tonight if you react this well to my touch."

You flushed a little but he was making you feel so good you didn't mind. "I told you, it's been a long time." you giggled and decided to even things up as you moved your hand down and palmed his erection which was now very evident. A thrill of excitement shot through you as you felt his size through his jeans and heard the low, deep groan come from his throat.

Mingi slid one of your bra straps off and kissed your shoulder before moving his hands round the back and unclasping your bra entirely. It seemed he enjoyed taking his time undressing you and the anticipation only added to the excitement for you, although by now you had become so worked up you just wanted him to fuck you already. Once he'd exposed your breasts completely he trailed wet kisses down your chest so agonisingly slowly that you whispered "Please, Mingi". You saw him smile slightly, obviously enjoying how much of a whimpering mess you'd already become for him - he didn't give you what you wanted straight away, though. He pressed his lips to your ear and said in a low voice, "I like hearing you beg for my touch." He licked your earlobe and bit it lightly, making you moan again and start begging more. "Please, Mingi...touch me. I need you."

"Good girl." His voice seemed to get deeper as he was enjoying your begging and just hearing it was making you wetter.

Mingi gently pushed you towards the bed and laid you down. He took off his shirt and you could see the toned muscles of his upper body. He moved to hover over you with his strong arms caging you in and you stroked over the smooth skin of his chest and abs. His body was like a work of art - even his scent was amazing - and you couldn't believe this man was yours tonight. As you kissed his chest your hands found their way to the waistband of his jeans and undid the button. You slid your hand inside and stroked his erection through the thin fabric of his boxers, Mingi groaned and took one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking hard.

"Oh God! Harder.." you pleaded and let out a small yelp as he took your nipple between his teeth and bit. You felt the sensation in your core and jerked involuntarily. Mingi chuckled and pinched the other nipple between his thumb and forefinger just as hard, loving the reactions he was getting out of you.

"You like it rough, do you?" His deep voice, almost whispered in your ear almost made you think you could come with just the sound of it. He almost growled as he moved back up to force his tongue back in to your mouth. You gave in to the kiss and he took that as a green light to be a little more rough with you.

Without warning Mingi's strong hands pushed your thighs apart and palmed your pussy, feeling the wetness that had soaked through your lace underwear. "Mmmmm, so wet for me already, dirty girl." He slipped your panties to the side and slid two fingers into your hole.

"Aaahhhh." You moaned at the feeling of his long fingers thrusting in to you over and over but you wanted more.. you wanted him to wreck you to make up for what you'd been missing for so long. You were like a starved woman, "More. Please, Mingi, I need more." Mingi groaned and entered a third, pumping them and pressing on your g-spot until you were close to coming undone but he stopped before letting you get that release and attacked your clit with his mouth instead.

"Oh my god, please don't stop. It feels so - aaaahh!" You screamed as Mingi took your clit between his teeth and bit down. Alternating between biting and sucking it didn't take long before you were at the edge again but this time he didn't stop, slipping one of his long fingers in to your back entrance he threw you straight over the edge. As you came hard he withdrew his finger giving you more pleasure than you'd ever felt before. Your legs were trembling as you came down from your high and he kissed your clit again, causing you to jerk. "I knew my dirty girl would like that." Mingi smiled and kissed you, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. "You taste amazing, by the way."

"Maybe I can get a taste of you now," you said, feeling more confident now. Looking up at him through your lashes you started to remove his pants. Once free you could see how impressive he was as his hard cock stood against his lower stomach, "Wow..." you breathed, "...you're so...big." Mingi smirked at you, "Are you gonna take it all like a good girl?" You got down on your knees in response, loving the way he was talking down to you, dominating you.

You felt like teasing him a little so you took his thick cock into your hand and licked at the precum dripping from the tip. It was salty but tasted amazing and you closed your eyes, enjoying it. Mingi groaned as you looked lost in pleasure while licking the precum off his dick. You looked straight into his dark eyes as you put your mouth around his tip and you could see how lust-filled they were, wanting more than just teasing so you pulled back and licked all the way up the underside, flicking your tongue when you reached the sensitive spot just under the rim. "Fuuuck," he growled in his deep voice "that tongue piercing feels so fucking good." You smiled and went back to sucking the tip then slowly going down further until he was filling you, his tip against the back of your throat - you had a pretty good gag reflex but that wasn't the problem - he was just too big so you used your hand to pump what wouldn't fit in. You carried on sucking his dick, letting him hit the back of your throat and his moans just kept coming. His hand was in your hair and as his pleasure intensified he got rougher, pulling your hair tighter. Needing to catch your breath back from having your mouth stuffed so full, you pulled back and alternated between running the ball of your tongue piercing up the shaft and flicking your tongue over the most sensitive spot, making his hand tremble slightly as it pulled your hair.

Without warning Mingi took your head in both hands and pushed you down on to his dick again "Fuck, Y/N, you're so fucking good at sucking cock. I bet my dirty girl loves having my cock rammed down her throat." You moaned at his degrading words and Mingi hips stuttered as he felt the vibration around him. The degradation and cock-sucking had you so wet now you could feel your juices dripping onto your thighs. Mingi started getting rougher with you as he basically fucked your mouth, groaning each time you had to pull back slightly and gasp for air. "I'm so close... I bet you'd take all my cum in that pretty mouth of yours but I wanna save that for your pussy." Mingi pulled out and you were finally able to breathe easily.

With a dark look on his face he pushed you on to the king-sized bed and leant over you, kissing you hungrily. He trailed sloppy kisses down your neck to your chest as he lined his huge cock up with your soaking wet hole. You felt Mingi's tip lightly stroke against your wet entrance and he seemed to want to tease you because instead of entering he moved up and stroked it against your now-oversensitive clit instead. You shuddered at the intense feeling jolt through you, "Mingi, please...I need you in me so bad."

"Mmm, I love you whining desperately for my cock like a little slut." Mingi said in such a deep voice as he smirked down at you - the combination made you think you could just explode, you'd never wanted anything more than to have him ram his dick right into you.

Mingi made you wait a little longer as he stroked himself slowly against your wet hole again, while you got more whiney and desperate. Suddenly he thrust in to you hard, bottoming out straight away and you cried out, in an equal amount of pleasure and pain as he stretched your walls further than they ever had been. "I'm sorry," he said, looking slightly worried, "Fuck, I didn't expect you to be so tight."

You smiled at him, trying to get used to his size, "I told you it's been a long time." You giggled and he kissed you as he started thrusting a little more gently. The feeling was so intense it replaced the discomfort you had felt being stretched so much and soon his slow thrusts just weren't enough. "Mingi, I need more....fuck me harder...please." Mingi groaned at your pleading and it sounded so dirty you clenched around his dick, making him moan even louder, "Oh fuck, you feel amazing."

Unexpectedly he pulled out leaving you feeling empty but he flipped you over and putting his mouth to your ear he ordered you in a low voice, "Get on your hands and knees, dirty girl." The order sent a thrill of arousal straight through you and you did as you were told, lifting your arse up to allow him better access - you were aching to have him back inside you.

"Fuck, Y/N, your tight cunt feels so good around my dick." Mingi said as he pushed his big cock back inside you. He was hitting all the right places inside you as he thrust deep and hard and his hands were gripping your hips so tightly you were sure his fingers would leave bruises. Being fucked by Mingi was better than anything you'd ever felt and your walls were clenching around him, the sensation so intense you couldn't feel anything other than him. You were close to cumming again but you needed more so you moved one of your hands to your clit and started rubbing, wanting your high to come faster. "God, that's so hot...touching yourself while I wreck your pussy. I'm gonna stuff you so full with my cum it's going to be pouring out of you." Those words in his low, deep voice were all you needed for the intensity of your second release to come crashing down on you, causing your legs to tremble. Mingi held you in place while he continued to pound into you, pulling almost all the way out and forcing his dick back in roughly. He didn't need long, though, the feeling of your walls clenching so tight around him was enough to have his hips stuttering and his creamy, white cum filling you up while he let out a loud, deep moan. After a moment of you both trying to catch your breath he pulled out and you laid half-reclined on the bed underneath him; you could feel his thick cum dripping down on to your inner thighs. You looked straight into Mingi's beautiful, dark eyes as you slid your fingers between your folds and scooped up some of his cum then slowly licked it off, making a mess and leaving some glistening on your lips. Mingi's eyes widened and he had a huge smile on his face, "Oh my fucking god... you are so dirty!"

For a few minutes you both laid down getting your breath back; you weren't quite sure what to expect now - it was just a one-night thing, after all (was he just going to clean up and leave?) but he shifted a bit closer to you and held you, rubbing your soft skin with his fingertips.

"How many more days are you here for?" he asked suddenly.

"Umm...I have 4 days left before I have to leave." you answered, not sure why he was asking.

"Same time tomorrow night? You looked so beautiful with my cum on your lips just now...I want it all over your face next time."

#mingi smut #song mingi smut #ateez smut #song mingi #ateez mingi #mingi #ateez x reader #mingi x reader #ateez mingi smut

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babes-and-baddies · 6 years ago

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How to Tame your Tomura (aka local evil asshole gets pegged)(reader/shigaraki smut)

(3.3k) (f!reader) (dom/sub dynamics) (AO3) (NSFW) i’m making a male!reader version of this on AO3 sometime over the next few days that i’ll make a post about when i’m finished, too!

You loved Tomura, you really did. For all his flaws, he was still the clever, cruel, talented, powerful man you fell for. It was a shame he could be such a petty, possessive asshole. Sure, Tomura was amazing, but there was still times when he became too much and you couldn’t ignore what a fuckin brat he can be. And unfortunately for you, that was exactly what was happening right now.

He was probably doing it on purpose, just to be an obnoxious little shit. You knew he was perfectly capable of acting maturely despite his emotional hangups when it came to you and your relationship, even with his obsessive tendencies and constant need for reassurance to both himself and others that you were his and no one else's.

So really, there was no reason for him to be acting like this, glaring at you across the room as he angrily chugged down a drink with hands clawed around the glass and blood-tinged eyes burning holes into the back of Jin’s head as the two of you engaged in a friendly, fun, platonic, in-no-way-romantic conversation.

Sighing, you raised an eyebrow in your boyfriend’s direction; Tomura knew you were more than willing to work with him when his doubts and jealousy got the best of him, but apparently asking for reassurance was too much to expect of him at times like these. Glare still burning bright, he stormed over towards you. Smile strained, bone-pale hands hooked onto Twice’s shoulder. Tomura opened his mouth to speak, hostility flying and acid on the tip of his tongue as Twice yelped in surprise to turn in his direction. Before Tomura had the chance to speak and say something he would clearly regret, you grabbed his hand and roughly pulled him out the door towards your quarters. Clearly Tomura had forgotten what kind of consideration and respect you’d demanded of your relationship, too caught up in his own need to keep you his; it now fell on you to remind him. Taking in Tomura’s manic anger, a grin spread across your face. God, you were going to have a lot of fun reminding him.

Knowing how he acts when caught up in his thoughts like this, you let his grip bruise yours as he practically dragged you towards your room in his excitement; he was probably planning to claim you, to prove your devotion to him and quiet all the static in his mind. You gave him a chance to have you alone, and he would take advantage of it to take you apart. But this time you wouldn’t let him.

Perhaps he knew that, perhaps that was why he was so open as he shoved you onto your bed, accepting your gentle touches as you pushed away his clothing beside yours on the floor and let your skin press against his. Perhaps that was why he didn’t fight back as you flipped him onto his back, straddling his waist and kissing along his neck to distract from the way you reached to your bedside drawer and grabbed a string of rope.

Sitting atop his trembling thighs, you gripped his wrists above him and held them down with one hand as you tied them up with the other, leaving him vulnerably unable to reach anything to use his quirk. Scowling, he tried to shove you off of him; you only pressed yourself closer in response.

“Now now, Tomura, let’s not make this harder than it has to be,” shivers filled the space between you, slowly shrinking in size as you brought your lips close enough to leave his own ghosted by your breath; tense silence was quickly replaced by a grunt as you let your tongue trace along his scars, “you’ve been enough of a brat already. Do you really want to give me more reason to punish you?”

Tomura let out a strangled growl, continuing to try in vain to push you away and take back control of the situation. Humming in amusement, you continued to kiss at his lips in the hopes of coaxing them open.

“You think this is fuckin funny, huh? We’ll see who’s laughing when I show you whose bitch you are.” Tomura’s voice was rough and angry, but even the harsh weight of it couldn’t hide the way it wavered in need. “When I get out, I’ll have you broken in and begging for forgiveness, begging for me like a little slut.”

“Is that so, Tomura? Are you really going to ruin me?” Light with amused anticipation, your voice caressed him as your hands admiringly trailed down his exposed chest. He was such a pretty sight like this, trembling from anger-tinged arousal but left at your mercy as you softly took in the way he’d react to your patronizingly loving touch.

“Seems to me, sweetheart, that I’m going to be the one ruining you. And you deserve it, don’t you, Tomura? You deserve to be punished for being such a petty little brat.” Your words were punctuated by the way you moved a hand down to palm at the growing bulge in his boxers. He moaned his response, involuntarily bucking up into your touch despite his indignant fury.

Tomura was a smart guy, he knew you didn’t take well to disrespect, he knew you would do something to have him make up for it; you knew he wanted you to take care of him before turning things around and paying you back tenfold until there was no denying he was in change. But no matter what he wanted, you had to give him what he needed, what he deserved, whether it was what he thought he wanted or not. Smiling, you pulled back.

Reaching once again to the bedside drawer, you pulled out a few more tools and took the time to thank yourself for being so prepared. Placing the vibrating cock ring around his hardening member, you cooed in amusement as he fumed, his cruel words of spite and retribution spilling out into the air. A finger was placed over his lips, doing nothing to muffle the noise yet still giving Tomura pause as he blinked in disgruntled surprise.

“Shhhh, shhhh….. naughty boys like you don’t get to speak until they earn it, sweetheart. I don’t want to hear you unless you’re begging; you don’t wanna give me more reason to punish you, do you?” Your voice was light with patronizing fondness, desire shining through as you imagined all the things you were going to do to him. Tomura thought he could push you around and act like a jealous brat? He’d figure out his mistake soon enough, begging for forgiveness as you utterly ruined him, turned him into a pathetic mess until he couldn’t even think about anything but how badly he needed to cum. Of course you wouldn’t let him until he deserved it, and it would take a lot to have him earn that right.

And waiting for him to give in would be no hardship. You had Tomura right where you wanted him, tied up too tightly to fight back and the blush spreading across his trembling chest and stomach deepening as you rolled a nipple between your fingers, teasing it into a hardening peak and leaving him desperately trying to stifle a moan between bitten lips.

It was perfect, having him helpless beneath you; a wicked grin crossed you face as his face contorted in lust-tainted panic when you turned on the vibrator snugly fit around the base of his cock. When you reached over to grab some lube and a harness, his voice grew more frantic, yet even more laced with arousal he was too stubborn to speak aloud.

The threats and empty complaints were almost sweet, endearing in the fact that he thought he had any room to speak. When his yelling quieted into a symphony of broken-off moans as you continued to toy with him with clever fingers, flipping on the switch so that delicious vibrations started to weaken his resolve, you knew he was ready for more.

You quickly stepped into the harness, adjusting your strap-on as you lubed yourself up to prepare for what was about to come next. When Tomura’s eyes widened as he looked down between your legs - why plan to fuck him if you weren’t gonna fill him to the limit, after all? - a grin stretched across your face.

Palming his aching dick as a distraction, you moved a lubed-up finger down to rub at his entrance. Tomura looked up at you with haze-filled red eyes, dick hard and leaking as the vibe assaulted him with pleasure; leaning down, you met his slackened lips in a possessive kiss, swallowing his moans when you carefully breached your fingers inside.

Tomura let out a keening whine, pushing his hips back against your fingers despite the way he tried to fight off the feelings of need and desire washing over him. Encouraged, you started to explore in earnest, adding a second lube-slicked finger and chuckling as he jerked at the cold feeling in such a sensitive place. Soon enough, you found a bundle of nerves which left Tomura’s eyes rolling back as you massaged it despite the vibe still assaulting his dick and your other hand teasing his sensitive skin.

Tomura looked so beautiful like this, naked and trembling underneath the ropes as he stared up at you with pleasure-glazed eyes, taking what you had to give in the form of fingers working him open, his dick painfully hard as the vibe gave no reprieve from pleasure. Did he know how good he looked like this, all sweaty and spread out below you like a desperate slut?

It certainly wouldn’t hurt to remind him; drawing your free hand away from where it teased along his skin, you quickly reached over to pull out your phone and silently snap a photo or two for safe keeping, letting him see what a sight he made with his face all scrunched up in pleasure, drooling from the onslaught of need and desire washing over him. Lips quirking, you put the phone away before he noticed. Perhaps if you surprised him with them next time, he wouldn’t be such a bitch? Either way, you could already imagine his embarrassment as he’d try to deny just how much he loved this.

There was still so much to explore, and you had all the time to explore it; the longer things dragged on the more painful the building pleasure became, but Tomura still couldn’t cum, and you made sure he knew it. Cruel words fell past your lips, telling him that he was getting this because he deserved it, that he was a brat and a little slut who'd earned everything he was feeling; that he couldn’t cum until he'd proven himself that he'd learned his lesson, and learned to beg for forgiveness like the desperate whore he was. Telling him that maybe, just maybe, you could give him the release he needed if he decided to be good. But if he didn't? You could keep him tied up all night, keep him full and needy until he was unable to even think anymore, and even then you wouldn't have to let him cum.

He was such a beautiful mess like this, stubbornly refusing to give in even as his dick flushed an angry red and tears ran down his face, that keeping him like this would be a pleasure.

Entranced by the whines and whimpers leaving bite-split lips you added a final finger, rubbing against Tomura’s prostate as you stretched him out for you. Each choked-back moan, every aborted beg showed how ready he was for more. Leaning back, you removed your fingers and sat up, leaving Tomura to whine at the loss.

“Awww sweetheart, are you having fun? Do you enjoy getting played with like this?” Smile bright and cruel, you leaned forward to grasp his chin and ghost your lips over his, “you better be a good boy and answer or I could just leave you like this tied up and crying like a slut where anyone could find you.”

Silvery hair splayed out as Tomura tossed his head back, dick twitching at your threats. He knew you were being serious, loving how he fell apart during punishment and crawled back to your arms like a needy whore when he couldn’t take any more. You’d do it, but fuck, it wasn’t fair. You couldn’t do this to him, he wouldn’t allow it, you belonged to him, he was supposed to be in charge and take care of things, and yet-

“Please…”

It was barely a whisper, soft exhale leaving trembling lips in an act of reluctant submission. To Tomura, he may as well have yelled it from the rooftops. And to you, it was like music. Perfect. But he could do better.

“Please what? You’re a big boy, I’m sure you know how to use your words. How else am I supposed to know what you’re asking for?” You punctuated your words by patting his cheek with condescending kindness, drinking in the way the action showed off the bright blush alight beneath pale skin.

Tomura let out a gasp as he felt something brush against his entrance, leaving him desperately wishing he was untied and able to flip you over and take what he needed. But he couldn’t; all he had was you, and what you were willing to give him.

“Please don’t leave! I -fuck- I like it, I like it when you use me, just, please, please fuck me!” Face painted red, eyes looking away with shame, his voice shone through with desperate honesty. Smiling, you pressed in the tip and watched as he tried to push himself down onto it.

“Good boy! I’m proud of you,” You continued to inch yourself deeper into his heat until you were halfway inside, rubbing small circles into his hipbone as you waited for him to adjust, “but you’ve still been a brat, I really do need to punish you. Be thankful I’m willing to fuck you, and if you keep up your good behaviour I might go easy on you.”

Hand tangling with thick curls you yanked back his head, leaning down to wet his neck with your tongue as it arched beneath the pressure of the position you forced him in.

“Now, what do good boys say when someone takes care of them?” Playfully cruel teeth sunk into the flesh of his neck when he refused to answer with anything but a whine. “Thank… Thank you?” Tomura’s voice was shaky and unsure, just above a gasp but reflecting the all-encompassing needy mindlessness into which he was sinking.

“Good! Thank you for…?” Your voice was soft and gentle as it ghosted across his neck, bloodstained tongue dragging from bitemark to bruise as you kept your hips still in waiting for what you wanted to hear.

“Thank you for taking care of me! I love you, I need you, please fuck me? I’m sorry for being mean, just, please!” Pulling back from his neck to place your lips against his rough pleasure-slackened own, Tomura felt a smile ghost across your face. The next thing he knew was a harsh snap of your hips, overwhelming fullness, and white hot pleasure as you finally gave him what he deserved.

He was so desperate, so full, so overwhelmed; it only took a few thrusts against his prostate until his eyes rolled back into his skull, tears streaming down scarred cheeks as he was pushed over the edge.

Fucking him through it, you continued to kiss across his face as everything became too much and he weakly tried to pull away from the overstimulation. He really was so perfect like this, unable to do anything but take all that you had to give him while pounding against his prostate with no relief, knowing each thrust brought him closer to breaking as he shook and whined at each thrust of your hips, the vibration against his softening dick became painful in the afterglow. So sensitive but so beautiful as drool ran down his chin, tears streaking his face from the mix of torture and tenderness. It was almost cruel, but he’d been such as asshole; why should you show mercy?

Gathering the cum splattered across his chest, you took his dick in hand and slowly began to drag your hand up and down the sensitive flesh. Tomura jerked and cried as you stroked in tandem with your thrusts, soft stomach heaving as he gasped and begged for you to stop, for more, for forgiveness. And forgiveness you gave, littering gentle kisses and words of bitter praise while spelling out his forced repentance in the form of promises of devotion, admission of guilt, cries of your name.

Soon enough Tomura began to grow hard in your grip, overstimulation still washing through him as pleasure mounted. Oh how you wanted to keep him begging, to say so many desperate and shameful things. But you knew he could only handle so much; the way he slowly devolved into rambled nonsense and voiceless cries was just as good.

“Mmmm, you’re so good for me Tomura, so perfect. What a pretty little thing you are, taking my dick like you’re made for it,” Your lips brushed against his ear, words filling his mind as the praise went straight to his dick, “I just need you to cum for me again, alright? Can you do that for me?”

A pained whine left his lips, but Tomura still nodded. Fuck, he was being so good for you. Maybe he really had learned his lesson, if only temporarily? But then again, probably not. He was nothing but a little slut for you, after all. Wicked grin across your face, you upped the pace as he writhed beneath you.

It didn’t take long until he was heaving beneath you, eyes squeezed shut as breath came out in ragged pants and thighs shook in overwhelming pleasure. He was so close, this was, you were- fuck-

“I love you-”

Tomura came with a cry, thick cum splattered across the softness of his stomach even when he felt he had nothing left to give. Everything was a daze, pleasure still seeping through as you pulled out, removing the vibrating ring from around his twitching cock. He could hardly pay attention to that, though. All Tomura could think, could feel, was you. Did he please you? Was he good enough? Did you forgive him? He felt so good now, part of him finally complete as he melted into the mattress.

The ropes still violently caressed his skin, you still moved above him, but to Tomura there was nothing but the fog of pleasure surrounding him, the pleasure and love you’d so graciously gifted him. All he wanted now was for you to hold him, to love him, to sink down beside him so he could be whatever you needed.

Tomura didn’t even notice you’d crawled over him until you sat on his chest, tilting his dazed face up to look into your own. You looked happy- that was good. He wanted you to be happy, to feel as amazing as you made him feel and more. He just wished he knew how, too overcome by his orgasms to think about anything above the beat of his heart as you softly spoke his name.

“Chin up sweetheart, your punishment isn’t over yet. Do you really think I’m done with you?” You tutted disappointedly, swinging your thighs above his shoulders to hover over his flushed face. He looked exhausted, but you knew Tomura. He could handle a little more.

“Now be a good little slut and open your mouth.”

#tomura shigaraki #shigaraki tomura #shigaraki x reader #bnha x reader #shigaraki tomura x reader #tomura #smut #I FINALLY FINISHED PEGGING FIC #THSI HAS BEEN IN MY DRAFTS SINCE LIKE NOVEMBER HOLY SHIT

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sugaxjpg · 6 years ago

Text

paradise 17; m

⤷ “Welcome to Paradise 17, the immersive virtual reality of your most private fantasies. Please, to begin your pleasurable experience, click ‘proceed’ and pick your partner.”

✓ Couple: Taehyung x Reader | VirtualReality!AU

✓ Filed under: smut

✓ Look out for: dom!tae; overstimulation; praising; voyeurism; cock worship; spanking; vibrators... there’s also a mirror on the ceiling because science

✓ Words: 15,217

Author’s Note: Do you ever feel a feeling that doesn’t exist? That was my entire experience writing this fic. Hope you guys like it, because I even made a gif-cover for it.

The first time you heard about Immersive Virtual Reality, you thought that it could be the biggest breakthrough of the century. It was something straight out of a futuristic movie; an invention that even the most intelligent of programers could only aspire to achieve; or perhaps a trope that had been worn-out by repetitive anime remakes and hollywood producers. It was too good — too complex — to be true, and that was precisely why it worked so well.

There had been a huge fuss amongst online communities much longer before the devices hit the common sphere of customers. Forums whispered of a secret project of a big gaming company, supposedly a helmet that could induce a dream-like state, in which the individual was completely absorbed in an artificial, parallel world. Lo and behold: one of the most predominant tech names in the world — Idol — came out with their almighty IMVIT helmet soon after, and the promise of an “overwhelming new experience” for gamers worldwide.

Of course, it didn’t take long for humans do what they do best: turn something innocent into porn. In less than a year after Idol’s IMVIT helmet had hit the markets, the so-called Paradise 17 — with its embarassing slogan: the future has come — was already one of the top five most sold platforms, rapidly climbing up towards the first position. From what you had gathered, it worked as a hotel-like interface, in which you could mold an insubstantial partner into your perfect sexual fantasy, and then be taken into a personalized room, where the magic would take place. There were supposedly a lot of steps involved, for the system wished to reach as close as possible to perfection, while making sure that the entire experience was both pleasurable and safe — words from its website, not your own.

You told yourself that you wouldn’t succumb into the temptation that the program offered, but, of course, those had been mere superficial rationalizations. You lasted precisely three months — quite a long time, if you were to be completely honest — before you purchased the simulation. To your defense, it was one hell of a deal: since they had been getting ready to launch a new version of it, you managed to get it for 75% off in a stock clearing. Besides, it was only a five minute wait for the download.

The future had, indeed, come.

“Simulation fully downloaded. Connect your IMVIT helmet to your computer.”

Obediently, you did as the program requested, and watched as your system gradually recognized the device. From an outsider’s perspective, you probably looked like a lunatic — completely wrapped up by the adumbration of your bedroom, with only the phantasmagoric light of your computer to illuminate your expectant features; the rapid movement of your fingers against the keyboard, and your eyes over the lines on the screen. To be fair, you didn’t feel much different, and your position only worsened as the connection was concluded.

Next to you, your helmet — you always thought it looked like a motorcyclist's apparatus — lit up in pallid shades of emerald and yellow. Your computer, asymmetrically, turned off for an instant, and the sound of the fans started vibrating within its structure. Once it illuminated again, you were greeted with the logo of Paradise 17 in beautiful, golden cursive letters.

“Welcome to Paradise 17, the immersive virtual reality of your most private fantasies.” Could be read underneath it — bright pink characters against an alabastrine background. Through your speakers, came a robotic female voice, which you quickly turned off. Even her automatic timbre sounded a bit judgemental, but perhaps you were just paranoid. “Please, to begin your pleasurable experience, click ‘proceed’ and pick your partner.”

You did as it said, and watched as the screen morphed into a completely different image. Unanticipatedly hesitant, you swallowed dry, feeling as expectancy started to burn like wildfire at the bottom of your stomach.

With cautious movements, you leaned in and started to read. A second later, your eyes were growing wide as you saw the endless selection of categories. The “partners”, as they were called, were separated in criteria that went from race and gender, and all the way to a five-page quiz about your kinks and sexual preferences, rating them from “not hot” to “super hot” in a very cringe-worthy scale.

The answering section of Paradise 17 had been overlooked by other users, and the internet forums had forgotten to comment on how long and obnoxiously detailed the inquiries could be. You scrolled through those quizzes and randomized sections for what appeared to be hours — when, it reality, it was probably around fifteen minutes — until, at last, you found yourself facing the final page. On the screen, it could be read: these are your three finalists, sorted by your answers and preferences. Please, think about your choice, for there will be no possibility to switch during the simulation.

That page was much cleaner than the previous ones, and presented exactly what it had promised: on it, three pastel-colored pictures and, underneath each one, the specifics about the guy, and how he would behave in the simulation — from a quick look, you could see that they had all been classified under “strictly dominant” in bold crimson letters, which had been one of the first choices you had to make. With a subdued hum of interest, you stared at the options, and started to read what they had to offer.

Firstly, Seokjin. The primordial thought that crossed your mind once you met his picture was that they must have based it off a real life model, because there was no way that a computer program could come up with that level of handsomeness by its own devices. Just like the other two photographies, the image was quite simple — against a anemic blue background, he stood, disheveled black hair and semi-parted lips, his mouth vaguely stained by a shade of pink. Under his picture, it claimed that he was especially fond of voyeurism and bondage. Interesting — but the second wasn’t really your cup of tea.

Then, Taehyung. One thing that made him stand out had been the shirt he was wearing — black as midnight, while the others used white ones. The choice of wardrobe contrasted against the clear strands of his blonde hair, which fell down his face like golden cascades; mingling harmoniously with the lackluster blush that dwelled upon his cheeks. Under, his interests listed spanking and overstimulation. That was something you could deal with. Gladly.

At last, Jimin. His features were somewhat softer than the other options, but his gaze was even more piercing, sending electrical charges through your veins the second that you met the profoundness of his irises. You could not tell how a computer-generated man could look so good, but, then again, that was the kind of awe-inspiring perfection you would face in that simulation, so you should probably prepare yourself for it. It said that he was a fan of praising and cock worship. Which was nice… very nice.

Still, there was a decision to be made, and three fantastic options standing right before you — so, you did what you had to do, and went straight for the superficial desires of the flesh prison that you called a body. You would never admit that to anyone else, but the only element that pushed you towards a choice had been the... size difference. If your simulated body was going to have some fun, you might as well go out out.

With another deep, tremulous breath, you selected your partner.

How should TAEHYUNG call you? We advise not to use real names, or share any sort of personal information.

Several fake names crossed your mind, but none of them seemed to be a good pick for the circumstances presented to you. Your eyes trailed off onto the details of your room, attempting to find some sort of inspiration amongst scattered books and random objects, but all that came to you were overly-complex character names, or simply ones that you didn’t feel like would be suited for that pornographic scenario — Cordelia, Constance, Galadriel, Ophelia�� Elizabeth Bennet? You didn’t even like Pride and Prejudice. You should pick some new books for a change, that was getting ridiculous.

At last, your gaze paused on a vase at the corner of your cubicle. Many weeks prior to your impulsive decision to purchase Paradise 17, one of your friends had gifted you with a rose for your birthday — before such a burning shade of scarlet, now a despondent tinge of purple, withered and dried up, barely standing in a vase of yellowed water. Gross. It was not in the best condition but, hey, your mental state wasn’t much better. It would have to serve.

Eager to get those steps done with, your fingers quickly typed “Rose”, and clicked to the next page before you could second guess your resolution. It wasn’t as if it was a life or death situation — you were about to have simulated sex, for fuck’s sake, not receive a nobel prize. Your name didn’t really matter.

Finally, pick your context. Paradise 17 is a sexual roleplaying simulator, please play your part accordingly. The storylines compatible with TAEHYUNG ar—

Now, that was a decision you did not expect to face. In an instant of startlement, you ran through your thoughts in a failed attempt to recall anything about that part of the program, but you could not remember anyone in the forums mentioning that Paradise 17 was about roleplaying — but, then again, you did select that kink before, so maybe that was it.

You ended up going for a simple one: you had just come back from a long time away, and Taehyung had booked a hotel room for the two of you. You didn’t believe you’d be capable of roleplaying anything much more complex than that — like the sugar daddy or teacher/student dynamics that the platform had suggested — especially when you were already so nervous about it. It was your first time trying it out, after all, you might want to ease your way in. Kind of.

Anticipation controlled your movements as you clicked for the next step, only to be met with a warning. The letters were white against a black background, quite a striking view when compared to the page’s clear and minimalistic style, and also with everything you had been presented so far.

Curious, you started reading: “Warning: Your session in Paradise 17 will go on for as long as you, the user, decides. Please be aware that prolonged exposure to Immersive Virtual Reality is not advised, and should not exceed five hours at a time. Do you wish to set a time limit, or decide later when to cease the simulation? The program will warn you half an hour before you reach the advised period of immersion.”

You hummed in an instant of thought, then clicked your preference. Decide later.

“Please enter your safe word. When spoken, the simulation will cease, and your progress will be saved. We advise you to use a word that would not come up normally during this context.”

Cinnamon. You had no idea why it had been the first one to reach your senses, but it would have to do the job for now — hell, you were winging it so far, there was not much that you had to lose.

“Your safe word is: CINNAMON. Confirm?”

Yes.

“Please, ROSE, review your data before we begin. Thank you for choosing Paradise 17, and we hope you enjoy your experience.”

With a tranquil suspire, you did as the program requested, and looked the list of your preferences. Besides your name, your safe word, and your partner’s data, you received the kinks that had resulted from your long session of quiz-answering — besides a dominating companion, you apparently enjoyed overstimulation, praising, voyeurism, cock worship, spanking and, as the cherry on top, vibrators. That was quite something, and you could tell you were in for a treat.

You chuckled, impressed at the agglomeration of kinks; some of which you had never even considered in depth before. “Seems about right,” you mumbled to yourself, then clicked the next page. Suddenly, you were looking forward to that “overwhelming new experience” a lot more.

“Check-in successfully finished. You may now place your IMVIT helmet.”

Oh. It was done.

Anxiety hit you like a punch in the gut, but you forced yourself to keep your movements under a clear veil of control. Like you did for other simulations, you picked up your IMVIT device, making sure that the long cable that connected it to the computer would not get stuck anywhere, and walked towards your bed. You made yourself comfortable, placing your back against the headboard, and took a look around to see if there were any objects to take care of — it wasn’t common, but sometimes users would report some muscular action in real life, and the last thing you needed was to slap a lamp mid virtual intercourse. When every particularity was revised, you moved your hair behind your ears, and placed the helmet on your head. Your vision went immediately dark, and your fingers promptly started searching for the button on the right side of the large equipment. Once you found it, you pressed it, and the small screen before your eyes turned on. The brightness induced you to blink a few times, making the clear cyan letters almost impossible to read at first.

Initiating program. You will feel a numbness in your limbs as you get into the simulation. Do not turn off your IMVIT helmet during the immersion phasis.

You inhaled profoundly, trying to calm down your nerves. Progressively, you started to be deprived of sensation through your body, almost as if you were starting to fall asleep — starting from your toes, and then working its way up.

The pixelated screen withered into obscurity, and the sound was activated. First, there was only static, then the auditory commands begun to resound inside your head.

“Welcome to Paradise 17,” the previous robotic voice echoed all around you, sending waves of excitability through your figure — or, at least, what hadn’t been numbed by the system. You knew these steps were necessary to fully submerge you in the simulation, but you couldn’t help but feel as if they were a bit more creepy then they should be. Morbid, almost. “You will be taken to your room shortly. Please, enjoy your stay.”

Your eyelids were heavy and, even against your best attempts, they closed. Sensation only lingered in the line above your neck, and it was rapidly diminishing, morphing into a vague trembling against your skin before, at last, disappearing completely. You always compared that part of the process to a bathtub full of anesthesia, in which you gradually slipped down into — submerging your abdomen, shoulders, jaw; and then all the way to the top of your head.

For the last time, you heard the rhythm of your breathing, and then there was only silence. The next inhale you took was already inside the program.

Abruptly, your eyes opened, and you found yourself inside the wonders of Paradise 17. The brusque change of atmosphere was always the most intimidating part of the process — in the breviloquent space between two heartbeats, you went from feeling nothing to absolutely everything. The sensation of your body was as realistic as ever and, if it wasn’t for the change of wardrobe, you could have claimed that you were still out of the virtual world.

Looking down, you noticed you had been wearing a silk robe — nothing beyond a thin, translucent veil of crimson — and, underneath it, a pair of lingerie that probably would’ve coasted your entire salary to acquire in real life. With a quick running of your hands through your hair, you noticed that the makeover had been complete, and you could only guess that your simulated self was also wearing a full-face of makeup. You knew that the system would go the extra mile to make you feel sexier than usual, but that just felt a bit weird to experience, if you were going to be frank.

Then again, it was probably your anxiety speaking.

You had been transported to a long, dimly-lit hallway. The forums were right about something: it felt like every hotel you had ever been to, and that only made the experience much more engaging. From the ugly carpet beneath your feet to the way that the corridor seemed to go on forever, bleeding into the darkness of the night; to the numerous doors that stood shut on either side of the walls — all of them the same: painted in an ivory shade, with beautifully-crafted golden handles — you found yourself in a flawless replication of reality.

The only passage that was accessible to you had been the one in front of your flabbergasted silhouette. From the parted door came a blast of the most profound tinge of magenta you had ever seen, casting its hypnotic, triangle-shaped glow all over the floor; and bathing your flesh with its phosphorescence. You could hear vague shuffles beyond it, and the distant sound of music and cars, many meters beyond your floor. Other than that, absolute silence.

From the other end of the hall, came the exclamation of a bell, signaling that the elevator — that you had barely noticed before — had arrived at your floor. Its golden lambency sliced through the thickness of the stygian atmosphere, and a person entered the hallway with hurried footsteps. Instead of what you expected, the stranger that came from it wasn’t your partner, but a short, middle-aged woman.

In the midst of the corredor’s shadows, you could see that she was wearing a maid’s outfit, and didn’t seem very thrilled about it. She walked hastily towards you, expression neutral — which, for her, made her seem as if she was pissed off at something. Not that you could judge: you, too, suffered from Resting Bitchface Syndrome.

Her voice was high-pitched as slightly nasaled as she spoke out. “Rose?” she asked as she stopped a few meters away from where you stood, placing her hands behind her back. Thin, rectangular-shaped glasses slid from the bridge of her nose, and her image seemed to be the most off-putting fragment of that world.

You didn’t know if she was part of the simulation, or if she was an administrator logged in the system. Either there was a woman like that laying in a dark room and guiding people through their off-putting sexual fantasies, or the programmers had willingly coded that character into a bitter person. Frankly, both options were equally bizarre, and you chose not to dive deeper into that inner debate.

Also, the fact that you were in full-lingerie in the middle of a dark hallway didn’t make you feel any more at ease. “Yes, that’s— That’s me,” you responded, a bit startled. The fake name sounded so off-putting coming from her lips, and you hoped that it would not be constantly used during the simulation.

“At your service.” She nodded. Her movements seemed a bit too unnatural for your taste, so perhaps she wasn’t a real person. You didn’t really want to find out. “Welcome to Paradise 17. Is this your first time using the server?”

“Yes,” you replied, expectant.

Once again, she agreed with a movement of her head. “Understood.” She signaled towards the half-open door. “This is your room, as you might have guessed. Remember: this is a roleplaying simulator, so play your part accordingly. Do you have your safe word in mind?”

Her speech caught you a bit off guard, but you managed to answer rather expeditiously. “Yes, I remember it.”

“Understood,” she repeated, then took a step behind. The purple light did her no good: it only made her eyes seem even more sulken, thin lips being pierced together in an instant of thought. “Your chosen partner, Taehyung, is ready and waiting for you,” she continued, “and you may start whenever you deem comfortable, simply open the door and the simulation will resume. Enjoy your stay.”

“Thank you,” you spoke, those two words feeling heavy against your tongue. Not that you had the time to add anything else.

As quickly as the mysterious maid appeared, she vanished into the twilight of the corridor, walking rapidly toward the elevator’s open doors. You stood there, somewhat stupefied at the odd interaction, and watched as the metallic cubicle closed with a low purring of its motor, then moved up to the following floor.

Well, that was... unexpected. Surely not something you wished to think about for any longer than necessary.

You shook your head, trying to ignore the confused thoughts that surrounded your mind, and reached out for the golden handle. The metal was cool beneath your touch, and you had to recognize the perfection that the simulation provided — according to some programmers, the physical sensation of objects was the harder one to evoke, but Paradise 17 seemed to have no issue in regards to that. Which was good, because, honestly, the experiences of the flesh were the majority of its offers.

In a brusque decision, you made the call that you would not allow for your performance anxiety to get the best of your actions — it was just a simulation, and you had nothing to worry about. Paradise 17 was just another parallel universe, and Taehyung was just another pre-programmed character. You were there to have fun, and not have an existential crisis. You’d be okay. You’d live.

You hoped.

So, with that in mind, you opened the door.

Your room was both what you had expected — based on the few preview pictures on the Paradise 17 website — and a bit more. It was by no means ostentatious, but it had enough details that it would feel much fancier than it was; certainly something you would not be able to afford in real life.

In the very centre of it, stood a large, round, king-sized bed and; by each side, white nightstands held the weight of frail lights. Crepuscular silk sheets enveloped the mattress, bathed by the vague lambency of neon; and you could sense the vague aroma of something sweet dancing in the atmosphere.

Nevertheless, those were not the important aspects of that space. You did not care for the deep purple curtains that ornamented the walls, nor for the mirror by your side that made you catch a glimpse of your own barely-covered figure. Your attention had been funneled to the large window that practically covered the wall opposite from where you stood — and the man that looked at the city below.

Behind his figure, the prismatic city lights scintillated like a million constellations. There was a thin line of turquoise phosphorescence that delineated his body, but, other than that, he was pure shadow — a black hole amidst a vivacious galaxy. Many meters beneath your secluded room, the muffled symphony of cars and effervescent conversations attempted to reach for your senses, but barely made through the silence that bloomed within that structure. It was far too perfect to be real and, yet, it immersed you so fully that you forgot, even for an instant, that you were inside an manmade world.

With the pushing of your fingertips, the door closed behind you. The man — Taehyung — appeared to get startled at the clicking noise, for his head quickly snapped away from the image of the kaleidoscopic city, and towards you. Taehyung had his hands deep in the pockets of his cream-colored suit once he turned around, his eyebrows slightly elevated in a muted inquisition, barely visible past the cascades of his soft hair strands. Once you saw his face, you could swear your heart forgot how to beat for an instant — he was absolutely handsome, ethereal almost, and his picture did him no justice.

Nervousness forgotten, you allowed for a dim smile to germinate upon your lips. “Hey,” you almost whispered, voice a lot softer than your usual timbre. You felt a bit stupid saying that, but it wasn’t as if you had a long line of groundbreaking introductions to choose from.

Taehyung’s eyes were wide in a mixture of surprise and nostalgia. “Rose,” he called your fake name with so much fluidity that you wished you could change it to your real one. The system had forgotten to notify you that the man had just enchantingly deep timbre, and that could be a problem — you would not respond for your own actions. “You showed up.”

You nodded, pushing your legs to move in his direction. The atmosphere felt thick, your lungs were barely able to suck the dense air in. “I did, Taehyung.”

The man suspired. “You look beautiful, my love,” he spoke underneath his breath, eyes glued to the movements of your figure. Against the blazing, yet scarce, lights of your room, his blonde strands of hair had decayed into a shade of pallid pink, and you loved it even more. Taehyung looked angelic, in the most demonic of ways. “I didn’t think you’d find me here.” He paused. “I didn’t think you wanted to.”

Dry — your throat felt so damn dry. If you could, you would skip that roleplaying part and jump straight to the action; especially now that you had seen him in “flesh”, and all the eroticism that encompassed his figure had completely asphyxiated you. Next time, you made a mental note to not go for any sort of roleplaying. “I did. I wanted — I want — it,” you responded slowly, walking in his direction. Your thoughts were disorganized, anarchic. “I... want you.”

Talk about being direct. Well, you had never been the most subtle person ever, anyways. It’s not as if you should get self-conscious about a simulation judging your eagerness to get inside his pants.

Taehyung smirked, pleased by your reaction. There was no way that man had been generated by a computer: he was so alluring that you could swear you had seen him somewhere before — perhaps in a renaissance painting, where diaphanous brushstrokes could ever so precisely construct the symmetry of features and actions. “I know that,” he verbalized — and of course he would be cocky too, because that was the essential ingredient when it came to cooking the Ruin-You recipe. “This is all for me, isn’t it?”

And of course, he was talking about your clothing — or lack thereof. “Yes,” you agreed. With a final step, you found yourself standing right before him — so close that, at every new inhale, you thought your chest would hit his. You placed your hands on his broad shoulders, and felt as he placed his own on your hips. His skin was warm and, against yours, it felt like it was burning, setting your soul aflame. “All for you, Taehyung,” you repeated.

Taehyung seemed to take a moment to dwell in your words, caliginous eyes continuously flickering downwards, attempting to catch glimpses of your body; explore the valley between your breasts. “Well, as much as you know I adore to see you like this...” he started, voice barely above a suspire. Beneath the fabric of his suit, you could feel his defined muscles moving as he massaged your body; squeezing your ass lightly. “I prefer when you’re wearing nothing.”

You looked up, meeting his tenebrous irises — vortexes of greed and lust, sucking you into a world you could not comprehend. As the words left you mouth, they did not feel like your own. “We can change that,” you proposed.

He hesitated. Just as you thought that Taehyung would respond, with his reddish lips opening to form a silent syllable, the darkness of his gaze deepened into a level that you could not fully grasp. The man’s eyelashes quivered lightly as his eyes met the delineation of your lips, and there they stayed. He leaned in.

Taehyung’s answer, instead, came in the form of a passionate kiss, and a subdued groan against your mouth.

His large hands departed from your lower body and, subsequently, cupped your cheeks as his lips parted in a warm welcome, a soft sigh coming from his throat once he felt your immediate reciprocation. Air was stuck inside your lungs as Taehyung kissed you with all he had, tasting the nectar of your lips, succumbing into you. His kiss passed a clear, palpable message: I want to have you all for myself. And I don’t want excuses.

And, fuck, you wanted him too.

That was why you didn’t stop him when his hands started trailing towards your clavicles, just to hook around the hem of your robe and pull it down your shoulders — a second later, it was merely a pool of translucent silk around your ankles. The fresh air embraced your figure then, and you could fully feel the asperous sensation of the man’s suit against your body.

Annoyed at the abundance of fabric in between you, you were quick to move your fingers to take off his own clothing. In due time, his suit jacket was already accompanying your robe on the hardwood floor, and your hands were using his blood-red tie to pull him closer to you, silently begging for more.

You knew that the hotel room was fake, but your experiences were very, very real. There was no way to mask the excitement that had taken over your limbs, nor the lewd expectation that had started to accumulate at the bottom of your abdomen. Taehyung knew exactly how to kiss you — he knew which pacing to follow, when to caress your tongue with his own; when to depart from your lips so he could meet the luscious skin of your exposed neck. He had been, quite literally, handmade for you, and you adored every second of it.

The man departed from your mouth, and navigated his lips towards your cheek, kissing the spot with unbearable softness. Taehyung suspired frequently, drowning in his own reverence at your form, as he trailed a path down your neck; biting as sucking your flesh in-between the wet touches of his mouth. “Love,” he called, his hoarse voice sending vibrations through your body, “Let’s be patient, we have the entire night for ourselves.”

Your only response had been a sigh, for you were aware that you could not speak anything else, even less play your part well. Many years before, you had been removed from the theater club for a reason — you could not act to save your life. And, frankly, you were in no position to do so.

As you would soon understand, though, Taehyung was everything but patient.

Sooner than you would admit, his dahlia-colored tie was on the ground, and your hands were fumbling to open the buttons of his white cotton shirt. Taehyung wasted no time either — his slender fingers were quick to undo the clasp of your bra, and throw it somewhere else as they moved to cup your breasts, to press them together. You whined at the contact, feeling as your arousal begun to present itself between your thighs.

In an unexpected action, Taehyung wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled your body closer to his, grunting in delight as soon as your nude chest met his own, and the hardness of his cock was felt at the bottom of your abdomen; poking against the light fabric of your underwear. The mere sensation was enough to make you sigh, your hands trailing downwards to meet the hem of his trousers in a blind search for his member.

The tingle of his kiss still lingered on your lips when his mouth, once again, came crashing down against yours; taking your breath away and making your legs weaken at the brusque, hunger-filled contact. That kiss was dramatically different, for his movements had turned much harsher, filled with impatience and lasciviousness. You couldn’t say that you disliked it — in fact, you probably liked it a bit more than you should.

The separation of your mouths pushed a frustrated exclamation out of your throat. With firm hands, Taehyung guided you downwards, sitting you on the edge of the spacious bed — your hips bounced as you met the velvety mattress; your eyes darting up to look at him once again.

Whatever complaint that you had started to construct within your mind came crumbling down once you met his expression. The picture the program had presented could never do any justice to the ethereal beauty that stood before you; the redness of his tongue as it came out to wet his plump lips, the thickness of his eyelashes as he lethargically blinked, taking in the desire of your form. His white shirt had been opened halfway through, and you instantly met the outline of his muscles through the thin fabric; his golden-kissed skin shining alongside the colorful phosphorescence of the room.

Taehyung could have been just a product of your digitally-enhanced imagination for all you cared, but, then and there, he was made of flesh and blood; wrapped around the purest curtain of ravenousness. Furthermore, with the new angle, so came the image of his own throbbing member, now much closer to you.

Your eyes fell to his erection, mouth watering— he was already hard, as you had felt aforetime, and the outline of his cock pressed strongly against his pants. As ephemeral as that instant of amazement was, it showed you just how wise you had been to base your decision on the size difference.

Ephemeral because, as you soon noticed, Taehyung seemed to have the same focus as you did, and was quick to cover your view. Before you could even construct a basic thought about what was given to you, the man cupped himself over his clear pants, groaning once he experienced the sensation his hand provided. “You’re making me so horny, baby,” he moaned out, biting down on his lower lip. “I can barely hold myself back.”

With exhausted limbs and parted eyes, you stared up as he started to stroke himself over his cream-colored trousers, hissing at his own neediness. The image was so erotic that you swore you could faint at the spot — luckily, though, your simulated version had a bit more endurance than that. “Then don’t,” you vocalized, your own tone muffled by your concupiscence.

Your actions — from the movement of your fingers to the words that left you — felt alien to you. Not because the simulation was bad, god knows it was amazing, but because you felt as if you had reached for a level of freedom that real life could never give you. Perhaps that was why Paradise 17 was so popular: besides your fantasies, it was also permeated with the possibility of acting out without fear of social consequences. You had full control of the scene, and it molded itself to fit your wishes. It was far too tempting for you to overlook it.

Regardless, those philosophical meditations could wait. There were far more important elements taking shape before you.

Taehyung’s nostrils flared up as his digits started to tease his crown through the fabric, permitting a ponderous exhale to depart from his chest — the sensation was numbed and, yet, it made his eyelids grow heavy as he stared down at your form. “I don’t plan to,” he spoke in a hushed tone, appearing as if he had utilized every ounce of his self-control to do so. “Want to feel it? How hard I am for you?”

The aching between your legs was getting intolerable, at it filled your mind with hazy clouds of craving. As your stare oscillated down to his pants — where you could notice a small wet spot of pre-cum starting to accumulate amongst the material — you swore all the remnants of your apprehension had left you behind. “Yes.” You swallowed dry, sitting up straight. You were out of your senses, but not enough to disregard such tempting proposal, especially when his velvety tone felt so deliciously inviting.

You had to battle against a moan that started to form at the tip of your tongue when your fingers met the textile of his pants — and, right underneath it, the hardness of his cock. Delicately, you started to stroke its sides, feeling as his member twitched in your hands; then the wetness of his pre-cum when you dared to tease his slit. From miles underneath the sea, you heard Taehyung’s breath being caught in his throat, his abs clenching as he drowned in your feather-like movements. “Can I cum in your pretty mouth, baby?” he asked, rather suddenly. You heart almost jumped out of your chest. “Do you want to suck me off?”

“Yes,” you responded just as rapidly. Once again, the proposal was too good to be neglected. “I do.”

Above you, the sound of Taehyung’s chuckle reverberated throughout the consolidated air. He seemed to find some sort of diversion amongst your dissimulated distress, the eagerness you tried to mask as you fumbled to open his buttons. “You love my cock, don’t you?” his voice was dangerously deeper as he asked, clearly amused. And there it was: your first of many kink choices for the night. Cock worship. You could do that. “You can tell me, love, you know how much I like to hear it.”

However, your response did not come so fast. With measured movements, you slided his trousers — and boxers — down his legs, your arousal only increasing as his erection was freed from its confinements. Slightly flabbergasted at the perfection of his form, you observed attentively every particularity that surrounded Taehyung: the shaky breath that left him as his member touched the cool air of the room, already soaked by its own nectar; the flinching of his limbs as you dared to move closer to him, magnetized by the frail neon aura that bathed his flesh. It was a heavenly picture, to say the least, and it was yours to have a taste of.

Still, you reminded yourself that he needed an answer, and your inner conflicts would have to be put on hold, at least for the time being. “Yes, I do…” You trailed off, placing one of your hands around his base. It felt so heavy against your palm, so thick. You bit back a moan once you thought about how good his cock would feel inside you, how amazingly it could fill you up. God bless impromptu decisions, and god bless the cravings of the flesh. “I love it so much.”

Nonchalantly, you tilted your head closer to his center, and your tongue met his crown, flat, then started to draw circular movements against his reddened skin; teasing his opening just enough to earn a muffled cry for more. As you would soon learn, Taehyung was sensitive to even the most timid of caresses, and even his dominating aura could not disguise the need that overruled his mind.

You felt as his fingers intertwined with the strands of your hair, pushing at the top of your head, wordlessly imploring for more. Above you, the boy grunted and cursed, closing his eyes to savor that moment the best he could. “That’s it, baby,” Taehyung eagerly praised, almost as if talking to himself. “Just take it all.”

He didn’t have to ask twice, for every other option was outrageous to even consider.

With a sigh, you placed your lips, rather tenderly, around the head of his cock, and suckled lightly, barely teasing him. You leaned back enough so you could speak, your breath hitting his member in thin clouds of heat. “You’re so hard,” you spoke, angling your head slightly to the right. You licked your path from his base to his top, and heard as a dragged-out grunt broke just behind his clenched teeth. Even the salty taste of his precum felt awfully realistic, you though in a moment of surprise; the texture of his swollen skin was perfect. “So big, Taehyung.”

“All yours, love.” He exhaled. As much as his timbre was somewhat controlled, his actions were not, and the roughness of which he held to your hair only presented his hunger further. “I’m so close already, just looking you is enough to make me cum.”

Now, there were some things that you didn’t precisely think about, but that would appear in the midst of your thoughts regardless. At that instant, the mental depiction of Taehyung coming all over your lips, untouched and trembling at his own release, hit you like a tidal wave, washing away all traces of logic that still lingered inside you. You could see it, in a way, hanging like a sword over his head, reflecting at the bottom of his parted eyes — the man was reaching closer to the edges of his self-control and, between your fingers, his member was painfully enlarged, begging to be caressed.

And that was all you needed to stop teasing him. Go figure, you weren’t that patient either.

Taehyung’s body jolted forward when your mouth wrapped around his cock, and you pushed yourself closer to it, sinking it inside your mouth. He, too, lost the ability to hold back his actions, for the hand that held to your hair closed around your strands with even more force, marking the rhythm of your movements, fighting to pull your head closer to his hips. You hummed at how good it felt, regardless of the sudden rush of pain. You loved it rough, and that had been precisely what you had went for.

“Oh, that’s it. You feel so fucking good,” he cried out in an astounding instant of adoration, every small movement of your tongue against his member made him buckle his lower body towards you; a groan bubbling on his throat. “Take me deeper, baby,” he pleaded.

Obedient, you leaned your body forwards, causing for his cock to hit even deeper inside your mouth. Progressively, you relaxed your throat so you could take even more of his large member in, and grew surprised at how easy it was — apparently your simulated self had no notion of a gag reflex, and that could be used in your favor. All hail the horny programmers that had made that moment possible.

You hummed around his member, taking him whole — or, as much as you could, while your other hand worked massaging his base. Even if it was slightly bothersome the way it ached the back of your throat, you could ignore it; instead focusing on the way his voice resounded around the room; moans and cries echoing around you as he thrusted inside your mouth, delighting in the amazing way you felt around him; chest rising and falling in heavy pants. “Fuck yeah,” Taehyung sobbed, thrusting his hips against your mouth in pure jubilation. “Just like th— shit, your mouth feels so fucking amazing—”

There had been failed attempts to find some sort of relief by slightly thrusting your center against the silky bed sheets, but that was clearly not even close to being sufficient, and it only served to make you even hornier, teasing your clit lightly. You had guessed that such part of the simulation wouldn’t last for long, since your pleasure was the main one to be taken into consideration by the program, and you had completely soaked your underwear by the point that Taehyung’s words were completely lost amongst a tide of broken moans.

Much to your delight, you were correct.

“I'm gonna cum, baby,” Taehyung warned, his member throbbing and twitching between your lips. His every action was a silent bargain for more of your mouth — to take him deeper, faster, to allow him to fuck himself against your soft tongue as you sucked him. Since you weren’t a fan of prolonging his — and by consequence, your — suffering, you did as he expected, and the reaction was instantaneous. “Oh, fuck—”

With a last, breathless whimper, he released inside your mouth; fingers grasping to your hair as you moaned around him, allowing for him to fill you with his cum. Only then, when his amazingly deep voice cried out the shattered syllables of your (fake) name and his thighs begun to tremble underneath the weight of his satisfaction, did you fully notice that you could move away from his cock, for he was already flinching with overstimulation.

After you had swallowed his release, you looked up at him. A dim, fucked-out smirk decorated his lips as his eyes found your own, presenting you with the felicity that had took over him.

Taehyung was still inhaling heavily as he took his thumb to clean one of the corners of your mouth, unhurriedly guiding it to part your red-bitten lips. “You look so pretty like this…” he praised, watching as you sucked on his thumb, swallowing the remnants of his cum. He sighed. “Love, you’re driving me crazy. Lay down for me, let me take care of you.”

You swore you almost cried out in relief as he said so, mind completely focused on the wetness that had pooled in-between your legs. Regardless, your only form of agreement was a long, drawn-out sigh as you moved away from his figure and did as he ever so pleasantly requested.

With fluid movements that did not show your overwhelming craving for his touches, you leaned your torso back, and threw yourself on the mattress, amongst the mountains of the silk sheets, and slightly pushed your body towards the center of the circular bed. As you did so, however, your eyes promptly met… you own.

God have mercy, of course there would be a mirror on the ceiling.

There was a short-lived moment of surprise as you followed the cascade of your hair on the mirror, irradiating around your head; the iridescent lights that contoured your exposed breasts; and the red marks that delineated your mouth. The person on the mirror looked both like yourself and a different version of if, barely a lost phantasm living amongst the shadows of that hotel. It was a paradoxical position: it felt like an hallucination, and yet a vivid part of reality.

Before you could ruminate on that piece of information any further, though, another figure came into focus on the reflection. Taehyung had taken off his last piece of clothing — his shirt — and had kneeled before you, fingertips landing on your thighs and pushing your legs apart. “Keep’em open for me, baby,” he whispered, overtaken by devotion. His voice was husky, enthralling. “Let me see what you’re giving me tonight.”

Your eyes darted away from the mirror, and towards him. “Taehyung,” you called out, shame long forgotten. The flame of carnality that burned at the bottom of your abdomen was overbearing, scorching your skin and turning your contemplations into ashes. There was nothing else that you needed but to feel him. “Please, just hurry.”

He placed his hands on either side of your head, finding support on the malleable fabric, and placing himself between your legs. Taehyung’s figure blocked out the obfuscus luminescence that came from the outside world, and the heat of his skin managed to be overwhelming, as bright as the lambency that shone within his gaze.

Against your expectations, though, the man didn’t laugh at the vocalization of your painful needs. Instead, Taehyung steadily lowered his body to your level, placed a prolonged kiss on your lips, and then moved down to your collarbones, his tongue writing poetry against your skin. He maintained his sluggish path as his large hands caressed your tits, pressing them together and grunting as he felt your nipples hardening underneath his touch.

“Taehyung,” you called out his name like it was a prayer — it was no time to tease you like that. “I want more.”

He hummed and departed from your bosom, kissing and licking down your stomach, your waist, your hips. Pushing your legs apart — which had once again closed in a natural defense against his erotic touches — Taehyung trailed up the invisible course on the inner part of your thigh, moving nearer to where you needed him the most. His lips were soft as feathers, warm as the flames of hell, and his tongue marked ancient spells on your skin.

God, you were doomed.

“Ah, love, you're dripping for me,” the boy complimented in awe, moving his palms towards your oversensitive center. With lustful appetite scintillating behind his eyes, Taehyung took two of his fingers back to your folds; but, instead of entering you, they simply dwelled at your wetness, earning a low groan from him as he pushed them apart.

The heath of his mouth met the cotton of your underwear, his lips circling your covered clit just right. He wanted to tease you further, but he knew you were in no position to endure it. “I just want to have a taste of you, love…” Taehyung trailed off, two of his slender fingers curling around the hem of your panties, pulling them down with umberable patience. The brush of his skin against yours was gentle, but enough to have a sigh leave your mouth — his voice was something you just fucking loved to hear, sweet as honey and deep as the libido the bloomed within your chest. “Fuck, look at you…”

Licking his plump lips in expectation, the boy stared in hidden fascination as he uncovered your soaked center, presenting him with a luscious view of your dripping sex. With a reverberating, satisfied groan, Taehyung placed one of his fingers on your entrance, playing with your wetness, barely teasing his way in. “You're all ready for me, babe,” he praised in a suspire, lowering his head to take a closer look at you. When he spoke, his hot breath hit the skin of your inner thighs. “God, you'll make me go crazy. I can't wait to make you cum around my cock.”

Your pulse quickened at the idea, causing for you to raise your hips against the motions of his expert digits. Through your parted lids, your gaze met his cock — already hard and throbbing against his abdomen, ready for another round. In real life, that would have taken a bit longer than a couple minutes, but, then again, Paradise 17 knew what it was doing.

Taehyung hummed once again, content with your physical response — the whines that broke upon your tongue, and the trembling breaths that got trapped in your fast-beating chest. His nose brushed its path along your thigh, moving dangerously close to your heat, while his fingers moved to rub your clit at a slow pace, coating it with your own moisture. “Will you be a good girl for me?” Taehyung questioned in a mumble — God, that voice was going to be the end of you. “Will you do what I ask you to?”

“Yeah…” you agreed in a whimper, respiration getting heavier by each torturous second. It was awfully annoying the way he grew confident at your distress — Taehyung’s gaze was one of pure cockiness, making you clench your teeth as you attempted to get more friction from his touches; the ghost of his plump lips against your sensitive skin. “Yes, just let me…oh fuck—”

Before you could even prepare yourself for it, Taehyung had moved his hand down, and entered one finger inside you, delighting in the way you clenched around him. “Just let you what?” the boy provoked, raising his head away from your heat, watching as your fingers dug to the sheets by your side. It was no fantastic discovery the fact that Taehyung had deliciously long fingers, but, once he added the second one, you were already starting to lose the terminal remnants of your self-control. “I couldn’t hear you, baby.”

Outside the concupiscent walls of Paradise 17, you would have never seen yourself as much of a submissive person, but Taehyung managed to turn that around rather quickly. And, as his movements grew more frantic, you lost yourself. “Taehyung, please,” you cried out, closing your eyes in absolute bliss. You could feel yourself getting lighter as your orgasm approached, chest rising and falling as you seeked your release. “Please, let me cum.”

Taehyung inhaled sharply at the inflections of your needy speech, groaning once he felt the throbbing of his own hard member against the bed. Around his fingers, you clenched and released, signaling that you weren’t far from your high. “Good girl,” he praised, repositioning himself to get closer to you.

In an action that was a bit too mercurial for your foggy mind to follow, his mouth was working on your clit with an unprecedented hunger, fingers completely sinking inside you. Taehyung grunted as he sucked on your sensitive spot, feeling as your walls tightened around his fingers, your juices soaking the path down his digits, and onto his hand. Hard and heavy, his cock twitched and rubbed against the bed every time you whined out his name, at every new, needy moan that dares to reverberate past your tongue.

When moved back, you could sense his shallow breaths reaching for your clit in small puffs of air. “Will you cum on my tongue? You know I love how you taste.” His charges got a bit faster, reaching deep inside you. Every once in a while, he would part his fingers ever so slightly, which you were sure it was a way to prepare you for his big member.

You could not be in the best state of mind then, but you could remember perfectly how thick he was as he was pressed against you, or as he filled your mouth, and the recalling was more than sufficient to push an answer out of your arid throat.

“Yes, yes, please,” you struggled to speak out, the right words flying away from your grasp. Your mind was already getting overwhelmed by the constant stimulation, the eminent arrival of your release turning your thoughts into absolute pandemonium — something that only worsened once you felt his tongue flat against your clit, losing no time in massaging it in gradual, deliciously circular motions. “Oh my god,” you gasped, hands flying to grip his soft strands of hair.

His digits curved upwards, hitting your sweet spot with no effort. You threw your head back, feeling as your pleasure expanded by the second, “Taehyung,” you called out in a whimper, rolling your hips against his hand. Weak, your knees felt like they were made of jello as he continued his movements, using his fingers to open your entrance wider, hitting you deeper. You were hanging just over the edge, and one last push was all you needed. “Right there, fuck. I’m going to—”

And the last push arrived in the form of a low, guttural moan against your heat. Just like Taehyung had requested, you came on his tongue, and gladly so. As your legs trembled under the hit of your first orgasm, your fingers held tightly to the roots of his hair, riding out your high against the intoxicating movements of his tongue against your clitoris. You cried out what resembled the pieces of his name in an exasperated exhale, drowning in the intercalated waves of heat and iceness that ran up and down your spine.

When Taehyung departed from in-between your legs and sat back on the bed, his roseate tongue came out, licking the remnants of your liquids on his plump lips, and taking his fingers to his mouth to do the same. “You taste so good…” the boy trailed off, the mere image turning into the hottest thing you had ever seen. As he looked at you, however, you observed that his eyes were a bit emptier than before. “Do you want to continue?” he inquired.

As soon as those words left his swollen, wet lips, you noticed that his timbre had decayed into a neutral one, and instantly noticed that it was the simulation asking for your consent. Better safe than sorry, you guessed.

Then again, if you were there, you might as well go all out.

You licked your lips, looking down at his own — his mouth was completely covered by your juices, shining against the dim magenta lights like small diamonds. “Yes,” you responded. That simple sentence took all of your spiritual strength; even the steadiness of your voice was hanging by a thread. “I want more.”

Much to your delight, that appeared to be all that he necessitated to keep your night moving along, for his gaze drew back to the same fathomless expansion that had been ruling over your thoughts. If there were any fragments of his robotic, pre-programming self still living within that hotel room, they soon vanished as he began to speak again.

“Ah, love, you're still dripping for me,” the boy complimented in awe. With lustful appetite scintillating behind his eyes, Taehyung took two of his fingers back to your folds; but, instead of entering you, they simply dwelled at your wetness, earning a low groan from him as he pushed them apart, then trailed softly towards your clit. The contact made you shake, air stuck in your lungs. “Fuck, you're soaking the bed, baby. Is that how much you want me to fuck you?”

“Yes, Taehyung, please,” you whined out, trying to move your core against him. However, to your frustration, his other hand moved quicker than your intentions, and it held your hips in place. Such an annoying little tease you had gotten for yourself. “Stop with this and just fuck me.”

Again, so much for being subtle. Then again, as much as Taehyung was playing the dominating part in that piece of virtual heaven, your wishes were the ones to be taken into consideration, especially when they were worded in such urgent manner. Quite literally, it bottomed down to the fact that you wished for him to fuck you, and so he would.

Without warning, as he often liked to act, the boy positioned himself between your legs. Taehyung took his hand away from your core and wrapped it around his member, using it to guide himself past your folds. He started by teasing his head in, making you get used to his size, before, at last, sinking the rest of his length inside; the delicious way of your walls stretched open to accommodate his cock making you to fall back against the mattress in a silent plea.

Taehyung was a quivering mess as he breathed out, fighting back a groan of satisfaction. His hands returned to rest on each side of your head, and his chest lowered, getting closer to your own. “Shit, I could just slip right in,” he told you, slowly pulling his hips back, leaving only the tip of his member in, just to shove himself back inside you. Once again, he repeated the action, starting with a slower rhythm, filling you to the brim. “You feel so fucking good, babe, fuck…”

Your only reply had been a restrained moan, and the wrapping of your legs around his waist. Taehyung was thick, reaching every possible spot inside you and leaving you in a storm of moans and torn supplications; fingers holding to the bed sheets in a shallow, frustrated attempt to hold yourself back to rationality.

With furrowed brows, Taehyung closed his eyes in concentration. Gradually, his hips started to lose precision in their pushes, and his rhythm was a scattered combination of movements; following the symphony of his constant groans and moans, fucking you much faster — rougher — than before. “You like this?” he panted.

“Yeah,” you said. He rolled his hips against you, fucking you so well that you saw stars forming constellations before your eyes. “Go deeper, ple—”

But he had already understood your request, and loud exclamation of delight dropped from your bruised lips, interrupting your sentence. You felt as his member, thick and throbbing, entered you deeper, stretching you wide and hitting all the lovely spots. “Like this?” he whispered in a hoarse voice, unable to hold back his own cries of delectation. His pouty lips wrote your fate on the surface of your soft cheeks, moving towards your neck once again. “Is this okay?”

“Oh fuck, yeah, just like this,” you cried out, closing your eyes in utter ecstasy as he did what you requested. Taehyung made sure to bring his hips back — his tip almost leaving your heat — before slamming himself back in, rolling his hips slightly so he could reach the all the places you loved so much with each feral thrust. The heat of his breaths against your skin was constant, but it could never win against the sensations that spreaded throughout your body. “Don’t stop, oh my god.”

Sooner than you would like, your second orgasm of the night hit you like a tidal wave, making you cry out his name again and again; your previous line of thought forgotten. You closed your eyes in endless, euphoric bliss, dwelling in the way he continued to fuck you through your high; knees shaking and arms far too weak to hold down to the bed.

Still, he fulfilled your request, and didn’t stop even after you had come undone.

“Taehyung,” you called, voice no more than a frail exclamation floating around the air. Your body was thrown up and down as he fucked you hard, the sound of sheets beneath of skin combining perfectly with the deep moans that left the boy. Taehyung was so strong in his thrusts that even the sensation of your boobs bouncing turned into a ocean of jubilation. “I already c-came.”

He inhaled sharply, hands meeting the curvature of your waist. The heat of his palms sent shivers down your spine; the frown of pleasure that overtook his features was enough to erase all your flabbergasted contemplations. “But you feel so perfect,” the boy praised, his storm-like advances becoming more and more inconsistent by the second; fingers holding to your flesh almost possessively. “Do one more for me, baby, come on. Cum for me.”

If it had been in real life, you were sure you wouldn’t be able to pull that off, but, since the context was different, the task did not feel as impossible as it seemed. “O-Okay,” you agreed in a stutter, reality seeming to be eons away. You were too weak to even protest, not that you really wanted to. “For you.”

And bless Paradise 17 for making your simulated body recover faster than your real one ever could, because it didn’t take much longer until your oversensibility gave way to a new wave of euphoria.

You bit your lip then, hard, trapping a whimper behind your teeth as you felt Taehyung maintain his strong actions, his eyes glued to the soft bouncing of your boobs; lips vaguely parted to form a silent syllable. Everything was becoming too much: his moans were too constant, yet so muffled; the pigmentation of the room contrasted with the bright lights from outside. The world was coming to a sudden halt, and your focus could barely hold itself to one single fragment of that room — the buildings that tried to reach the skyline beyond the window glass; then back to the sweat that accumulated between your bodies; then flickering to the clenching of Taehyung’s jaw as he felt your walls tightening around him.

But then, when you started to believe you were going to cum for another time, the man ceased his movements, and drew away from your body.

The absence of his touch — and subsequently, of his member inside you — was like a shock that ran through your limbs, making your eyes immediately dart open. You found your own discombobulated gaze on the mirror above and, besides that, the retrieving of his figure as he moved away from your own.

You pushed yourself to seat up. “Taehyung, what—”

“Hold on, baby, it won’t take long,” he requested, interrupting your ‘what the fuck are you doing?’, and leaning over the bed’s edge, reaching for the crepuscular nightstand. Taehyung opened the drawer in a swift movement and you heard something roll inside it, meeting the wood. “I want you to feel even better. You can lay down.”

Fighting back against your true desires, you did as he requested. Above you, your reflected body was covered in cherry-covered marks — all the way to the deep colors on your neck, to the ghostly pressing of his hands on your breasts and hips. The realization of Taehyung’s true roughness only made your craving reach further, rupturing upon your tongue in the form of a breathless suspire. “Tae, please.”

Taehyung lived up to his promise and, within a second, he was already crawling back towards you. “I’m here, love.” He smirked rather amicably — though, in his eyes, shone the flame of his prolonged self-indulgence. “I have something for you.”

You were about to ask what he was talking about when you saw the small, pink-colored object in his hands, and you understood where he was getting at. Of course: you did select vibrators after all. Cheers for stupid decisions.

And cheers for Taehyung for acting before you could even construct a response.

The contact of the vibrator against your clit made you cry out instantly — your body was unaware of the small period that it had been privated from his touches, for you were right back where you stopped, and lust, once again, ran through your veins.

You clenched around nothing and, in an automatic movement, you looked down at his throbbing member. Promptly, you observed how his cock was swollen, ready to cum once again, begging to be touched, to fill you up just the way you loved it. The mere sight of him made you whimper in expectation, your abdomen flinching as the vibrations continued to spread. “Taehyung, p-please,” you begged again. The pressure inside your core was too intense, you just needed to release it. You couldn’t hold back for much longer. “I’m gonna cum like t-this if you don’t hurry.”

Luckily, Taehyung, as you had noted, wasn’t the biggest fan of holding back either. With the fluid movements of a running river, he moved back in between your legs, and placed them over his thighs, angling you perfectly to receive him once again.

One second later, he had already slipped back inside you, and his rough advances resumed.

Sweat had accumulated at the bottom of your spine, and the world just felt too dense to even breathe properly; even less to construct abstract sentences. You begged for your body to just made you cum at once, because you didn’t know how long you could endure that torture for.

Yet, Taehyung wasn’t completely satisfied with your position. With a strong motion, he took one of your hands and placed it over the vibrator, making you hold it firmly against your sensitive spot. The pressure became more intense, and you felt as if your lungs were on fire. “Keep it there, baby,” Taehyung instructed with a hoarse voice, his hips beginning to take a more violent pace. The vibrations against your clit were becoming too much, and you felt as if you could reach your high again at any time now. “Yeah, that’s right. Feels good?”

You bit down on your lower lip, fingertips trembling against the vibrator. “T-Taehyung,” you called in a whimper, looking up to meet the mirror on the ceiling. You could see the motions of his back muscles with perfection, his hips advancing against yours repetitively; your own, needy eyes staring back at you in an unspoken bargain. God, the man fucked you like a machine and, in a way, he was one. “Taehyung, it’s too much…”

Like a whisper inside your mind, your safe word came in a silent proposal — but you quickly overlooked it. You didn’t want it to stop. Not yet.

“Yes, baby, fuck,” he groaned, making sure to add more and more force to his eager thrusts. Shit, you could feel him throbbing inside you, fucking you raw. You moaned and cried, knees shaking as you pressed down the pink vibratior to your clit, the contact adding to the hypnotic, harsh thrusts of his cock in and out of you. The scorching, frenzied waves in your lower body were becoming unbearable, ready to come crumbling down at any given instant. “Cum on my cock, please, baby…”

And that was the final drop. You didn’t know if it was his stupidly corny pet names or the overwhelming movement of his large member inside you, but, honestly, you didn’t care. It could have been a combination of those factors, or perhaps something entirely different. The point was that you had reached your breaking point, and your body could not take it any longer.

You wanted to beg for him to go on, to fuck you harder, deeper, faster; but you couldn’t find the words to do so. You reached for the stars, and there you stayed. As your lips opened, only a choked moan came out, eyes closing as your climax washed like currents throughout your body — making your knees tremble and your stomach clench up. Your nails dug to the skin of his back as you called out his name, your weak voice coming in fragments because of the force of his thrusts.

He, too, could not take much longer. “I’m gonna cum,” Taehyung said in a groan, hitting impossibly deep inside you. Though your climax, you really felt how big he was, keeping you in your place as you tightened around him. “Fuck, baby, you’re so perfect, so tight, I’m— oh, shit.“

You felt as his cock throbbed inside you as he came undone, his thrusts getting more erratic as his voice was sliced by moans and grunts, your name being thrown in the form of disconnected sounds. He fucked you through his high like he had promised: roughly, giving you no space to recover, and only stopped when you complained at the oversensibility.

Taehyung, at last, let out a final, exhausted curse before he moved away from your body, rolling next to you on that king-sized bed. For an instant, silence filled the space between the two of you. Then, the forsaken inquiry resounded once again. “Do you want to continue?” he asked, his throaty voice navigating the air like disembodied sin.

The vibrator was turned off, and you placed it in between the two of you — quivering fingers and sliced breaths echoing in between your sweaty bodies. You swallowed dry, taking an instant to fully organize your thoughts. The sensation of your orgasm still lingered within your bones, and you could swear your centre still felt the vibrations of the object.

“Yes,” you said in a blunt, reckless decision. “Yes please, I want more. Just one more.”

“Are you sure? There’s no need to be greedy.” Taehyung smirked at the eagerness that lingered behind your lips, barely vocalized within your fragmented syllables. As the man lethargically turned his chest towards you, your gaze followed the movement of his cock — still so deliciously swollen, vaguely coated by the whiteness of his release — as thumped against the softness of the mattress, begging to be caressed once again. “I’ll understand if you want to stop for today, love.”

You licked your lips, attention oscillating between his dark charcoal eyes and the throbbing of his member. There was something terribly hot about the way that Taehyung was still hard, and traces of hornyness could still be found lingering just at the back of his smile.

The man, just like every other computer-generated personality in that simulation, had been perfectly coded to be the best partner you would ever have, and he certainly lived up — and surpassed — your expectations. And, to top all of that, the atmosphere of Paradise 17 was, on itself, aphrodisiac. It consumed you from the inside out, making you base your decisions on the desires of the flesh, and not your rational impulses. Outside the simulation, you would have never agreed to another round of that cardio exercise, but, then and there, any other option seemed far too preposterous to even consider.

So, when your answer left your lips, you were not precisely left surprised.

“I can do one more.”

A deep chuckle reverberated within his chest, and he moved slowly to sit up on the bed, back pressed against the headboard. Manners forgotten, one of his hands curled around his aching cock, fingers teasing his slit as he took in your fucked-out image. Taehyung hissed at the sensitivity of his member, twitching painfully at the absence of your heat; a long, guttural moan breaking upon his lips as he spoke again. “Look what you do to me,” his chest quivered as his spoke, panting breaking his words into breathless pleas. “I’m still so horny.”

The image of him jerking off was just too hot to handle, and certainly not something you had been psychologically ready to endure. Taehyung moaned, his own eyes falling to the rapid movements of his fingers against his pulsating length; droplets of sweat glistening on his forehead, shining over the roseate hue of his cheeks. From the clenching of his abs and the rise and fall of his hips, you could tell that he was working his way past the painful sensitivity of his last two orgasms. You desperately wanted to watch him cum like that, but you knew that he was just teasing you further.

Which, by the way, really fucking worked.

Taehyung grunted as his hand continued its movements, eyes falling shut as the delightful sensation of his actions started to work its way around his body. “I can’t hold myself back when I’m around you, baby, you make me so hard.” He threw his head back against the soft headboard, his adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed hard, attempting to hold back a whine. You didn’t even care that you were in a simulation then, you just wanted to have him again. “Will you take me well, babe?”

“So well.” You breathed out, biting your lower lip as his actions increased in speed. Taehyung was starting to lose himself in his own bliss, enchanted by the sinful images you presented him. The view he gifted you — sweaty hair and closed eyes; parted lips coated by your nectar; and constant, needy moans — was driving you insane, eagerness taking over you once again. “Taehyung, please, I need to feel you… I’ll take you well, please…”

“Ah, babe.” Taehyung sighed, opening his eyes just enough so you could notice the way his irises shone in absolute lust — he looked like a piece of inferno wrapped in the ethereality of paradise, from the way his hair was gleaming in droplets sweat to the clenching of his abs. “You’re such a good girl for me, fuck… Get up.”

And that request was all you necessitated. With expeditious movements, you stood up besides the bed and, instantaneously, felt as his cum began to drip in between your legs, running down your thighs. What a fucking mess, you thought. If it hadn't been a simulation, you would have definitely cleaned yourself up before anything else — not that you thought your real body could have endured all of that, plus what was coming, but still.

“Move closer to the window, let me see you.” Taehyung delicately requested, as he leisurely let go of his member and watched it bounce against his abdomen, aching for you. As you did as you were told, you felt the weakness of your legs beneath you, and the unspoken promise that they would give out at any instant.

You didn’t know what it was, but you just loved the way that Taehyung seemed so horny to have you again and again, unable to keep his hands off himself as he watched you — from the movement of your wet thighs to the suave bouncing of your breasts — as you moved towards the kaleidoscopic glass, momentaneously hesitant, waiting for more of his orders.

Soon enough, they came.

Taehyung got up, and ran one hand through his sweaty strands of hair, pushing it back and showing you his furrowed brows. He looked like lucifer then, owner of such enveloping aura that you could lose yourself in the labyrinth of his fathomless gaze. “Love,” he began, “Tell me what you want.”

As he took one step toward you, you took one behind, and your back me the gelid window. Air was trapped within the walls of your throat, both from the contact of the surface and the tension that lingered between the two of you. “I just want to have you,” you spoke out. And that was the pure truth. “I don’t care how.”

He smiled. “Whatever my girl wants, she gets,” Taehyung told you with uncharacteristic kindness, gaze falling to the alluring forms of your body, the vague trembling of your knees. Two of his fingers traced down the path between your breasts, his voice coming out lower as an order came out of his lips. “Turn your back to me.”

Eager, you followed Taehyung’s command immediately. Before you, in his phantasm-like reflection, you saw the way he bit down on his lower lip, groaning as he noticed your growing wetness.

“Ass up for me, love,” Taehyung murmured from behind you, his hoarse timbre sending shivers down your spine. Once again, you did as he said, perking up your hips and finding support with your palms against the window. “That's it, baby.” Lackadaisically, his digits contoured the curvature of your ass, groping at your flesh tightly. He knew about your desire, and took his time to tease you — next time, you would make sure to get the most impatient partner you could find. “Just look at you, all ready for me.”

You whined at the sensation of his big cock bumping against your heat as he stepped even closer, your core clenching around nothing. “Taehyung, please—” Heavy breaths painted pictures of diaphanous clouds against the window, and the polychromatic city lights became foggy underneath it. Outside, you could see the outline of other people passing in front of windows, and something fell at the pit of your stomach — were you on online mode? Were those real people using the system?

Did you even care?

Not really.

Behind you, Taehyung chuckled at your distress, and the sound reverberated through your breastbone. “Look at that,” he provoked. Against your clit, you felt the tip of his cock, and the mere contact made you gasp in anticipation — you felt so empty, you needed him again, just one last time. “All those people are watching you get fucked. Isn’t that lovely?”

Lost amongst your blurred thought, you closed your eyes as you felt the sensation of his member rubbing itself in-between your folds. Taehyung was still vaguely covered by his own pre-cum, and your wetness lubed his way perfectly. If you angled your lower body just enough, you’d be able to feel the slow, dragged-out grinding of his throbbing ache against your entrance and convince yourself, even if for an instant, that his grinding would cease, and he would end your torture by spreading you open.

Nevertheless, that illusion of pleasure was short-lived.

A sharp, burning pain spread across your asscheek as it came in contact with his palm, making you jolt your body forward in a mixture of surprise and delectation. And there it was: spanking. You knew there was something still missing from your checklist of kinks.

“Answer me, love,” Taehyung almost hissed against the skin of your neck. “I asked you a question.”

You took a second to even remember what question he was referring to, and three more to conjure an answer — or something even remotely close to that. “Yes, yes it is,” you said. You had no idea what he wanted you to respond, and the grinding of his cock against your folds didn’t make your mind any less fogged.

Once again, he laughed at your distressed words. This time however, the softness of his deep chuckles was accompanied by the tenderness of his palm against the same area he had hit. “Well.” Taehyung breathed out, pushing your hair away from your neck. He planted a kiss on your skin, and his hands found the curvature of your waist. “We should put on a show, then. Don’t you think so?”

As much as you would adore the idea of him forcing another answer out of you, you pushed your tired vocal chords to formulate the words of your agreement. “I do, yeah.”

He hummed, and took one of his hands to guide himself to your entrance. “Let’s start, then,” Taehyung mumbled. With the heavy breaths that departed from his lips, and the hunger that was reflecting in his eyes, you could tell that he did not want to prolong that instant for longer than necessary.

Taehyung entered you with one long, swift motion, allowing for you to get, once again, used to his size. In the phantasmagorical reflection of the foggy window, you catched glimpses of his own face, contorted by fervorous hunger, as he felt the way you opened himself to him.

You pressed your forehead against the glass as he held tighter to your flesh, gasping at the feeling. This time, he wasn’t really focusing on thrusting inside you, but on pushing and pulling your body against his cock, making you do most of the job. “Taehyung, you’re so big,” you choked out without much thought, back arching as his hips begun to move, sliding in and out of you, then starting to take on a more violent, rapid rhythm. “It feels so good, fuck.”

Mindlessly, your hips perked up, seeking for a new angle. It was probably the amount of times you had come already — two? three? You couldn’t even remember — but you could tell that your body was not going to be able to endure that sensation for much longer. That certainty, however, presented itself once Taehyung moved to pull your ass up, while fucking you deeper, and happened to hit your sweet spot.

“Oh my god, Taehyung, right there. Don’t stop,” you begged. Against the glass, your fingers slid down, leaving behind the marks of your hand. The world outside was nothing but a blur, and you did not care for anyone else that could catch a glimpse of your decay into perdition. “I’m so close already.”

“Me too,” Taehyung responded in a whisper. Inside you, his member throbbed and twisted in need, signaling that the man wouldn’t be able to take it for much longer either. “Fuck, baby, just take me, I know you can do it.”

The tingling in your lower belly was spreading throughout your hips and stomach, traveling to infest your entire body. It felt dangerously good, and you were sure you were about to reach your breaking point — a part of you wished for him to go slower just so you could prolong that sensation, but that was just too much for you to ask. You loved the way he filled you up, his thick cock twitching inside you as he fucked you into oblivion, too harsh, too rough for you to follow.

So, you found your relief for the final time that night, crying out his name as he continued to drill into you, pushing your breasts against the glass, holding to your hips with the same force he has smacked you aforetime. In a way, you didn’t expect to end it any other way. It was almost poetic, if you thought about it.

“That’s right, love,” Taehyung murmured against the skin of your back, closing his eyes. You could tell he was close too, for the his abdomen had started clenching. He was a greek god then, making you his in every right way, his muscles outlined by the neon illumination that came from outside. “You’re such a good girl, aren't you? You just love it when I have you like this, you take my cock so well.”

You felt as if you were about to explode, pleasure overtaking every cell of your body. Trembling, your knees fought to keep you steady as Taehyung used your body to get himself off.

His teeth found the skin of your neck, biting down lightly. Taehyung seemed as if he wanted to claw his way into your body, for even his thrusts got impossibly harder, raising your hips with the impact. “You’re so tight, love, so fucking perfect,” he spoke against your skin, one of his arms wrapping around your waist, and the other seeking support on the window. “I’m… I’m going to cum, baby.”

And, of course, he was a man of his word. Taehyung came inside you with a profound groan against your wet skin, and you could feel as he filled you up with his cum; still thrusting in and out of you as it began to drip in between your legs. You whimpered at the sensitivity, and your legs almost gave out beneath you as he continued to fuck himself through his relief.

Alright, truth be told. You may have exaggerated a bit, but, god, it was worth every second.

He ceased his movements and, for an instant, there was only serenity. Then, for the final time that night, the same question resounded throughout the consolidated room. “Do you want to continue?” Taehyung inquired, his lips mere centimeters away from your ear, and his cock still buried deep inside you.

You sighed at the contact of his warm breath, attempting to organize your ponderations. “No, not anymore,” you answered, a bit sad. “I should go now.”

Frankly, you didn’t want to leave: the sex was too good and, from your glimpse at the clock at the wall, you could tell that you still had two hours before the constant virtual immersion reached the margins of dangerousness. Still, you were fucking exhausted. There was no way that you could endure another round, even if your simulated self already had much more stamina then you would ever achieve in real life. Paradise 17 was, after all, also reaching for the realistic side, and the tragic truth was that you were never the most athletic person around.

On the reflection, you saw that Taehyung pouted at your answer. “I will miss you, love,” he whispered against your neck, his fingertips caressing the curvature of your waist. Oh, you would really fucking miss him, and would make sure to come back as soon as you had your energy back on track. “I’ll be here for you, alright?”

That was a low hit, you thought, but you forced yourself to maintain your call. “Alright,” you mumbled back, closing your eyes in a moment of concentration. That was going to hurt — spiritually, psychologically, perhaps even physically, but it had to be done. “Cinnamon.”

Upon the soft-spoken verbalization of your safe word, the universe came to a sudden halt, and the simulation was paused. On the window before you, a diminutive, square-shaped screen appeared, shining in bright niveous colors. Do you wish to cease the simulation? It inquired.

“Yes.” You breathed out. The most difficult of decisions require the hardest of wills, after all — or at least that was how you thought the saying went.

Before you, the screen flickered into a brand new message. Please hold. You will be unplugged from the online interface, and your progress will be saved.

Increasingly, the hotel morphed into a darker shade of itself, like the flower that withered at the corner of your bedroom. The lights were turned off, and the world succumbed into penumbra. The fabric of the artificial reality shivered then, similar to how a small rock induces waves in a puddle, preparing itself to send you back to the world of the living — away from Paradise 17, and from the hellish magnificence that was Taehyung.

The steps were the same as when you entered the simulation: all physical sensation ceased for a prolonged instant, only to come crashing back as you were transported to a completely different position. Abruptly, you could feel the weight of your IMVIT helmet all around you, and the softness of your mattress was, once again, beneath your thighs — the touch so paradisiacal when compared to the roughness you had just endured.

You blinked a few times, trying to grow used to your body, and the tenebrosity that expanded all around you; your features barely illuminated by the small visor inside the object. On the screen before you, blue, pixelated letters read: Thank you for using Paradise 17. We hope you had a pleasurable experience. Come back soon.

And oh, damn right you would.

You can now remove your IMVIT helmet. Idol thanks you for your preference.

Supiring, you did as it requested.

The muffled atmosphere of your room hit you all at once, in clear dissonance with the sweet, cool air of Paradise 17. You waited a few seconds before your eyesight had adapted to the dim illumination and, with a heavy heart, you placed your helmet by your side, and threw your legs over the bed’s edge. Between your thighs, you could feel the effect of the simulation, for you had completely soaked your underwear.

Within a minute, you had already sat down in front of your computer and closed all open programs, feeling the ponderousness of sleep hanging over your shoulders. Still, there was something you needed to check before you allowed for your slumber to overtake you. For science, of course, just a bit of research.

Without much thought, you opened one of your go-to forums, and typed “Paradise 17” on the search bar. After a few seconds of scrolling through high star reviews and awfully personal descriptions of the user’s experiences, you found the piece of information you were searching for.

“The developers of the infamously popular simulation, Paradise 17, came out this last Sunday with great news for its devoted users. Its newest version, which is expected to hit the markets next month, will have, amongst other updates, the possibility of multiple partners. Oh Sehun, the spokesperson for Idol, told us in an exclusive interview that, so far, the number of participants is limited, ranging from the usual two, all the way up to five. Other than that, Idol promised to add new scenarios to the simulation, while still following the hotel theme — such as a hot tub and a public pool, for the ones who enjoy the thrill of being seen in public (...)”

You elevated one of your eyebrows in clear interest — a threesome? Now, that was something you could look forward to. The new update couldn’t come soon enough.

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avengerscompound · 6 years ago

Text

Making Sense - 3. Taste

Making Sense: A Hulkeye Fanfic

Series Masterlist Previous //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing: Bruce Banner x Clint Barton x F!Reader

Word Count: 1923

Rating: E

Warnings: Angst, Smut (Bi MMF threesome, oral sex, handjobs, anal sex, vaginal sex, Dom/Sub, switching, bondage, praise kink, rough sex, gentle sex, anal play, kinbaku, come play, ice play, erotic massage, sensory deprivation, mutual masturbation).

Synopsis: When Hulk starts making it difficult for Bruce to live his day to day life, Bruce starts pulling away from everyone. You and Clint take it upon yourselves to help the two of them to work more together better and Bruce to become more comfortable in his own skin.

3. Taste

You sat out on the grass with your eyes closed. It was another warm day and you’d opted for shorts and a singlet top. The sun felt warm on your skin and every so often the sounds of Clint releasing an arrow and the dull thud it made when it hit the target he’d set up would mix with the sound of birds and Hulk’s breathing. The day had started as normal. Waking up Bruce and Clint curled in against you. You’d had breakfast together and then Hulk and Clint had gone off to play their version of hide-and-seek in the forest. They’d returned in the afternoon and the three of you had been just lazing around ever since.

Hulk sat in front of you now. He was applying makeup to your face. He was being surprisingly gentle considering how large his hands were and how small the tools he was using were. Not that he had a feather touch. You had been poked in the eye a few times now and the first attempt at lipstick had broken the end off against your teeth. You were enjoying it though. It was like playing dress up with a little kid and doing it in the sun like this was peaceful.

“Hulk finished.” He rumbled putting down the contouring brush. You opened your eyes and looked up into the iridescent green eyes of the Hulk.

“How’s it look?” You asked.

He grinned at you. His lips parting so you could see his large teeth. “Hulk, like. Bossy girl, look good.”

Clint looked over and burst out laughing. “Oh, you look ready to go out on the town.”

“Thank you, honey.” You said in a sing-song voice. “How about you come over here and I’ll do you and you can do Hulk.”

Clint shrugged and came over putting his bow and quiver beside him as he sat down in front of you. “You want to choose the colors, Big Guy?”

Hulk’s eyes flicked over the palates he’d laid out around him and he pushed one over with the back of his knuckles. “Little bird, like purple.”

“Thanks, man,” Clint said with a smile.

You started working on Clint’s makeup, going completely overboard and putting on anything that Hulk pointed out to you. Clint just sat grinning like the dork he was as you applied eyeliner and eyeshadow and added glitter to everything.

When you were done you sat back and looked up at Hulk. “Looks good I think.”

Hulk grunted and nodded his head.

“So now it must be your turn, Big Guy,” Clint said, getting to his feet.

The smile that broke out on Hulk’s face was one of pure joy. He clapped his hands and shifted so he was sitting cross-legged and leaning forward a little so Clint could reach him better.

“What colors do you want?” Clint asked.

“Purple. Darker than, little bird.” Hulk replied.

“You got it,” Clint said. He glanced over the makeup you hand and picked up an eyeliner pen and got to work.

He artfully applied the makeup to Hulk’s face. Obviously, you didn’t have any concealer or foundation that would match his skin tone, but using a mixture of your bushes and eyeshadows, Clint managed to do some contouring.

“How are you so good at this?” You asked as he applied lip liner to Hulk’s lips.

“I grew up in the circus. You think I didn’t have to wear makeup?” He answered.

“Why haven’t you ever offered to do mine.” You asked him.

He smirked at you and poked you in the side. “I gotta keep some of my secrets.” He teased. “But if you like I’ll do it for you sometimes. Not now though.”

“No, not now. Hulk already did it.” You agreed. “We all look pretty amazing. Maybe we should have our dinner outside with candles.”

Hulk shifted uneasily. “Want Banner back?”

“Not if you want to stay a bit longer. You can have dinner with us today if you want to.” You said, running your hand up and down his forearm. He smiled again and nodded his head.

“Alright. I have got just the thing.” You said getting up going into the house

The thing with the Hulk was he could eat a lot. Unfortunately, that didn’t usually end up so well for Bruce if he changed back too soon. There was a balance you had to hit where Hulk felt like he had had enough but he hadn’t eaten to the point where Bruce would feel sick. The best way to do that was using protein.

You cooked two large rolled beef roasts, filled with different kinds of nuts and served it with a salad that had both eggs and avocado and more nuts. While you cooked Hulk and Clint set up a place to eat outside. Hulk spreading out a blanket and Clint putting tea lights around.

You brought the food out just before dusk and the three of you ate together you and Clint leaning up against Hulk. Some squirrels came down out of the trees and Clint started tossing some of the nuts from his salad to them. Hulk laughed, a huge rumbling laugh full of pure joy. It sent the squirrels scurrying. Hulk frowned and scuffed the grass with his fist.

“They’re skittish. If you can be quiet they’ll come back down.” Clint said, patting Hulk’s leg.

Hulk huffed and sat quietly waiting for them to return. When they did he started throwing his own nuts out to them until they had come over and started climbing up into his giant palms to get them. The look of delight never left his face.

As the sun set deer stepped out of the treeline. The three of you watched them and Hulk put his hand on your lap and let out a sigh, before shifting back into Bruce. Clint stumbled forward, nearly falling on his face and Bruce looked around confused. “What just happened?” He asked.

“I think he was just super peaceful.” You said with a shrug as Clint picked himself back up.

Bruce blinked at you. “I don’t - that hasn’t… what?”

You rubbed his back. “This is working, B. We’re working it out. We’re safe with him. Now you just have to feel safe with him too.”

That night after you’d all cleaned up and head to bed, Bruce sat at the edge of the bed in his boxers watching you and Clint getting undressed. “I want to do more this time, but I’m still not sure. He always feels right there.”

“Well, what do you want to try?” You asked coming to sit down beside him.

He leaned against you and put your head on his shoulder. His hand went to your leg and he kissed your throat as he reached out to Clint. Clint moved closer to the two of you and ran his fingers through Bruce’s hair.

When Bruce broke the kiss with you Clint leaned in taking your place. The two men kissed slowly and deeply, their lips moving together, Clint’s tongue flicking over the corner of Bruce’s mouth.

Bruce tugged Clint’s boxers down and you started kissing along his Adonis’ belt, his cock twitching, and hardening as you did. Bruce’s hand moved to Clint’s ass and gripped it digging his fingers in causing Clint to moan loudly.

You licked along the side of Clint’s cock and flicked your tongue over the slit. Bruce broke the kiss with Clint and leaned down. His tongue flicked with yours over Clint’s length before he pulled the man’s cock into his mouth. Clint groaned and leaned down and kissed you. You kissed each other hungrily, Clint’s hand in your hair. Bruce’s hand slipped into your panties and ran up and down your pussy, circling your clit for a moment before running back down again and teasing your entrance. There were hands everywhere. One of yours ran up Clint’s chest and rested on his throat. The other ran over Bruce’s back. Clint palmed your breast and tugged on Clint’s hair.

While a warm, pleasant tingle crept through your body making you hum and roll your hips against Bruce’s hand Clint completely came apart. He groaned and broke the kiss his head falling back. His knees seemed to give out and he pushed them against the edge of the bed to keep himself steady. “Fuck… please… oh…” he babbled breathlessly.

The sounds he made alone were enough to make you wet. With Bruce’s fingers as well, your panties were soaking.

Bruce worked Clint’s cock expertly. You both knew exactly the things to do to get the archer off. He sucked and licked up his shaft, pulling off occasionally to move to his balls. He teased his asshole as he deepthroated him. Never making himself gag. While Clint enjoyed being treated a little roughly he hated to think he was hurting anyone. Soon Clint’s babble was constant. He pleaded for released. His hands opened and closed helplessly.

“That’s it, Clint.” You hummed. “Come in his mouth.”

Clint whimpered and looked down at Bruce who as if in answer opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue. Clint groaned and bucked his hips a few times forcing his cock down Bruce’s throat. His hips snapped forward suddenly and he released, coating Bruce’s tongue in thick come.

Bruce swallowed it all and turned to you kissing you hungrily and guiding you back up the bed. You could taste the bitter salty taste of Clint’s come on Bruce’s lips. You let him guide you back and lay down, spreading your legs for him. His lips traveled down your body, kissing a trail to your pussy. He pulled your panties down and off and his lips were immediately on your cunt, his tongue swirling over your labia as he sucked on your folds.

Clint moved behind Bruce, pulling his boxed down and lay on his back under Bruce and between your legs so he could take Bruce’s cock in his mouth.

As Clint let Bruce fuck his mouth Bruce worked his over your pussy. He sucked and nipped at your clit and ran his tongue over it in random patterns. His fingers teased over your entrance and down between your legs. Your moans mixed with his as Clint brought him closer and closer to the edge. You skin buzzed and you clutched at his hair, holding him against your pussy as you rocked against his face. Your own orgasm got closer and closer and as you thought it was just there waiting to happen, Bruce thrust two fingers inside you and pressed hard on your g-spot. You cried out and arched up violently as you came hard. Bruce moaned as he kept lapping at your cunt.

His hips moved a little faster against Clint and just as the last waves of your own orgasm passed through you he came, spilling into Clint’s mouth.

The three of you crawled up on the bed together, both men curling in around you. Clint nuzzling into your neck and resting a hand on Bruce’s hip, while Bruce put his head on your chest and kept his hand on Clint’s knee.

“That was all you this time, right?” You asked Bruce.

He hummed. “Felt him a little, like he was watching, but yeah. All me.” He agreed.

“So we’re getting there again. We’ll get it back. I promise.” You said.

He hummed and for the first time in a month, he looked like he might actually be completely happy.

// NEXT

#bruce banner #clint barton #bruce banner x reader #clint barton x reader #hawkeye #hulk #hawkeye fanfic #hulk fanfic #bruce banner x clint barton #bruce banner x clint barton x reader #hulkeye #hulkeye x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #smut #making sense #taste

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thecleverdame · 6 years ago

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Part Two

Read part one here

Alpha!Werewolf!Sam x Omega!Werewolf!Reader

Summary: You and Sam are a bonded pair with four children. You’re both interrogated by the police who are convinced that Sam and Dean are running a criminal enterprise.

Warnings: Language, violence, murder, dom/sub overtones. mentions of: knotting, breeding, claiming, giving birth

This falls into the same AU as The Brown Bottle, Moonlight and The Derby.

Interrogation: Sam

Sam sits on a tiny chair in a small room, wrists in handcuffs resting on the table in front of him. He’s been waiting for the better part of three hours without so much as a hello from anyone. He’s got a pretty good idea of what’s happening, at least the basics. He can’t say he wasn’t expecting to be brought in for questioning, he was, however, unprepared for the SWAT team knocking down the door to the mobile office at their construction site.

He takes a deep breath, running his hands through his hair. While he’s not new to being on this side of the law, he’s never been left to sweat in the box for this long.

He gets it, they’re proving a point.

–

Detective Joe Burgess stands on the opposite side of a panel of oone-wayglass watching. His eyes narrow as he sips reheated, lukewarm coffee from a styrofoam cup. This moment’s been a long time coming, there’s a lot riding on this. If they can’t make charges stick this time there’s little hope of the investigation dragging onward.

The brass says there’s been way too much time and money spent on this investigation. A thousand lines of inquiry that lead to nowhere. If they can’t break one of them today, there’s a good chance they’ll all walk for good. Everything the department has is circumstantial, and the district attorney won’t move forward without hard proof.

Joe’s a veteran, twenty years with his shield, before that a beat cop in some of the worst neighborhoods in Lincoln. He seen enough bad guys to know that there’s something off about the Winchesters. He has his own suspicions, but he’s got to leave them at the door because this is about what they can prove, which, at the moment, isn’t much.

He believes in justice, but he’s not naive enough to have faith in the system. It’s finally time to bring out the big guns, so to speak, let the Winchester’s know they’re really in it deep, and people are paying attention.

You can only live outside the law for so long.

Joe’s partner, Keith Jablonski, opens the door to the viewing area between the two interrogation rooms, carefully shutting it behind him. Keith’s overweight, red faced and not the sharpest knife in the drawer, but they’ve been a team for the better part of two decades so it’s about family at this point.

“How they doin’?” Keith asks eyeing Sam, then his brother sitting in the adjacent room.

“They’re both just sitting there.” Joe cocks his head as Sam shifts in his chair, palming himself through his jean and adjusting his balls. He’s been doing this long enough to know that most people panic. Guilty or not, the anticipation of the interview drives most people mad, pacing the room, crying or any number of nervous ticks…but these guys are just waiting patiently like a grandmother at a bus stop.

“You sure you wanna split up? We could tag team em’, go in together.” Keith suggest, pulling up his pants by the loops.

“We’ve got less chance of getting them to talk if we overwhelm them. We just want to get the dialogue going and hope something comes out. These guys have been involved in too much for something not to slip, that’s all we need. Once we have that we can pry the rest out.” Joe’s sure of one thing, Sam and Dean are as smart as they are criminal.

–

The door opens and Sam sits up a little, watching a cop in his fifties enter with a somber smile. He walks right over to the table and and pulls the only other chair sitting across from him and switching on the audio recorder.

“I’m detective Joe Burgess and I’ll be conducting this interview.” Joe reaches into his pocket and pulls the key the to handcuffs. “You’d probably like to get those off huh?”

“Yes, thank you,” Sam nods and holds his hands out as the detective unlocks them.

“So I’m not going to beat around the bush. I think we both know why you’re here.” Joe nods, looking Sam right in the eyes.

“Well, that makes one of us.” Sam smirks, leaning forward with both forearms on the table. “Are you going to tell me or make me guess.”

“You and Dean have been very busy the last eight years.” Joe taps the folder in front of him, leaving it closed. “I have to hand it to you, you’re two of the most enterprising young men I’ve ever seen. The construction company is impressive but all the little side projects you two have going on? It’s amazing you have time.”

“It’s just the family business,” Sam shrugs. Joe expected this reaction.

“Do a lot of guys who own a construction company also carry a loaded Glock?”

“I couldn’t tell you. But my handgun is registered, everything’s in order.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that.” Joe chuckles, “Hey, tell me why you weren’t home today? I thought Sunday was always a family day...”

Sam’s jaw ticks at the mention of his family and it’s all Joe needs to know where to start applying pressure.

“See, we thought you’d be at home, so we went there first before we found you down at the job site.” There’s a physical response in Sam to what he’s saying, heat rising in his cheeks and the veins of his neck flexing. “It’s a shame we didn’t know, we could have avoided that whole mess.”

Sam takes the bait. “You raided my house?”

“About an hour before we picked you up,” Joe confirms, watching the cool and collected guy across the table attempt to control the rage that’s clearly building. This is the Sam he’s been waiting eight years for, the guy might just slip up. “Don’t worry, your kids are fine, a little traumatized but I’m sure that’s nothing new.”

“And Y/N?” Sam uncurls his fist, then tightens it again, short nails digging into his skin. Joe knows he’s found the sweet spot.

“Oh, she’s alright too. She’s been across the hall talking with my colleague Detective Barden. She’s a little shook up but I hear they’re getting along just fine.” Sam seems to relax a little, it’s the last thing Joe wants so he strokes the fire. “I gotta say buddy your wife - shit, I’d give my right nut to be married to something like that.”

“I bet you would,” Sam snuffs.

“I’ve been part of the team that’s been keeping tabs on you and Dean from day one. I just have to say that Y/N has really been a real highlight. I mean with an ass like that I see why you keep her knocked up. I don’t think any of us blame you.”

“I’m a lucky man.” Sam bites his tongue, maintaining his composure. A younger version of himself would have reached across the table and ripped Joe’s throat out.

“See me and the guys have a bet. Don’t get me wrong, she’s still a knockout, but after four kids, that close together you gotta tell me… her pussy still tight?”

There’s flash over Sam’s eyes and a twitch of his shoulders. Joe sees it, the rage threatening to break the dam, but again, Sam remains calm. After a moment he smiles wide at Joe, leaning across the table like he’s going to tell him a secret like he’s shooting the shit with a friend at the bar.

“Better than you can imagine.”

Joe tips his head back and laughs because fuck all if Sam isn’t a sly bastard. He throws up his hands. “Well, good for you man. I’ve got two kids and a wife who hasn’t touched my dick in a year so you’ll have to forgive the interest.”

“Can we stop talking about my wife’s pussy now and you just ask me whatever it is you want the answer to?”

“Becoming a father is a life-changing thing,” Joe presses forward ignoring Sam’s request. “And you’ve got four? That’s a full house.”

“You have a point?”

“Just never expected you to be a family man, that’s all.”

“I’m full of surprises.”

“See, we got a theory about that too.” Joe smiles at Sam, “Y/N really got you with the first one right? What, did she say she was on the pill and beg you to fuck her without a rubber?”

“You’re venturing into dangerous territory,” Sam replies calmly.

“You and Dean had a pretty sweet setup. The girls were top shelf, I’ll give you that. I’ve got a hard time believing that Sam Winchester, the same guy who beat Kevin Morgan within an inch of his life, the same Sam who was getting blows jobs from bar skanks in the back of Dean’s car, just magically fell in love with a bartender and decided to start a family.”

Sam remembers the night Liam was born.

He was still trying to figure out how to be a mate, the idea of becoming father didn’t seem real until you went into labor. He paced across your living room, bare feet padding on the carpet, back and forth, back and forth, while Dean tried his best to distract him with a football game.

He’ll never forget the sounds you made, the scream and cries of desperation coming from the bedroom made him feel sick to his stomach… and it went on for two days. It sounded like you were being tortured and he was helpless to do anything but listen and wait. Sitting idle was a foreign concept to him.

Dean had finally got him to sit down with a beer when the midwife popped out of the bedroom, looking to Sam, “she needs her Alpha now.”

“Is she okay?” He asked, springing to his feet.

“She’s strong, but she needs your strength too. The first is always the hardest. Don’t worry, it’s what Omegas are built for.”

Sam could feel as he walked down the hallway, but nothing prepared him for the sight of you naked on your back, belly up and looking utterly broken. “Sam,” you cried, reaching for him. The bags under your eyes made them looks like sunken sockets, surrounded by pale, sweating flesh. You reached out to him and he took your shaking hand, more terrified than he’d ever been in his life.

“Hey baby,” Sam forced a smile, kneeling down and taking your hand into his.

“I’m so tired,” you gulped with chapped lips. “It hurts.”

“I know, but you’re doing really well.” Pushing wet hair away from your forehead he looked to the midwife for confirmation. From between your legs she nodded and somehow he just knew what he needed to do. “I’m right here, I’ll be with you.”

When it was over he watched awestruck as his newborn son suckled at your nipple. You were so exhausted you could hardly keep your eyes open, so he sat beside you, mother and child propped up on his chest for the first time.

He’d never been more grateful and all he knew was he wanted more.

“You with me?” Joe snaps his fingers in front of Sam’s face, bringing him back to reality.

“What was your question? ” Sam blinks.

“Let’s start simple, can you tell me what you were doing last Wednesday night between eight and midnight?”

“Last Wednesday,” Sam thinks, “I went to the bar with Dean, I was home by eleven.”

“Anyone else at home with you?”

“My wife.”

“She’ll confirm that I assume?”

“Yes.”

“And you stayed home the whole the night?”

“I just told you I did,” Sam confirms again.

“Well, you could have slipped out. Waited until the Missus falls asleep and…” Joe probes.

Sam scoffs impatiently. “I got home, watched the news, answered a couple emails, fucked my wife, then my two year old threw up all over his bed, when I say he threw up I mean an ungodly amount of vomit. You wouldn’t think someone so small is capable of spewing that much. I spent an hour dealing with that aftermath. By the time we went to bed, it was pushing four, maybe five.”

“I almost believe you.”

“I don’t care.” Sam snips.

“I believe that too.” Joe chuckles and flips through a folder. He pulls out a photo of a woman’s mangled body lying on the ground. Her flesh is bloated, a sickening blue.“You know her?”

Sam picks the photo, looking from the grotesque image to Joe, “I’ve seen her before, Shelly or Cheryl something.”

“Charlene. She was twenty-four when she died. Her parents reported her missing two years ago and she ends up dead a couple miles from your job site.”

“You think I killed her?”

“Well I know you knew her, you and Dean both did. I don’t know who did it. I find it interesting that that picture doesn’t bother you, just another body huh?”

“How am I supposed to react? Did you want me to cry? I’ll try to act more shocked next time.”

“There’s the Sam I’m looking for,” Joe cracks a smile leaning forward. “The blood doesn’t bother you, huh?”

“Not really, no.” Sam tightens his jaw.

“I tell you what, if I needed someone disappeared, I’d come to you. You guys are good. There’s no denying that.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Sam responds deadpan.

“Let’s take a look at these young women, you just speak up if anything rings a bell,” Joe lays out a series of pictures, some of them are old class photos, other personal family pictures. Sam recognizes most of them.

A few years back one of their own went rogue. Jesse Verik had a specific taste in women, he liked them young and innocent. He bit two dozen women before Sam was able to find him and put him down, leaving he and Dean to deal with the aftermath. For six months the two of them shuffled newborn wolves from house to house while they suffered through the change, then learned how to control what they were. Not one of them had wanted to go home, all fearing the inevitable repercussions. It took time but Sam and his brother placed them all, one by one, around the country with packs that were looking to grow.

He’s now staring at a collection of assumed missing persons that aren’t really missing at all. If it comes down to it, Sam will get in touch in their Alphas and have the girls turn up alive, but he’d like to avoid it. They wanted to fall off the grid and start a new life, he can’t begrudge them that, not after what they’d been through. Being turned is traumatic enough when you know what to expect, but they were forced into this life. He won’t out them unless it’s a last resort.

“Yeah, I recognize some of them, but you already knew that right?” Sam asks and Joe nods in confirmation. He points to each one as he corroborates the facts. “She worked for my brother for a while, cleaned his house I think. The redhead up there worked for my mother-in-law, bartended for a while. The blonde with the short hair, she worked for me at Reliant. Filing and answering phones.”

“You fuck any of ‘em?” Joe thinks he already knows the answer to this but he’s pushing buttons.

“No,” Sam scoffs, “never.”

“All twenty of these women went missing within two months. All with a connection to you or your brother or one of your lackeys. Is that just a coincidence?”

“I don’t know what to tell you,” Sam shrugs, “people come and go around here.”

“Well, they seem to come and go a lot faster around you.” Joe flips his legal pad to a blank page and looks at Sam. “Let’s just go date by date, and you can tell me what you remember.”

—–

You wait the better part of an hour before the door opens to the small room and a short woman in her late fifties ambles it. She smiles tightly, giving you a nod of her head and sets down her papers on the table in front of you.

“I’m Diane, I’ll be your caseworker.” Diane shifts in her seat, looking at the pane of one-way glass. She flips the switch on the table and the red recording light on the camera in the corner of the room switches off. “They’re watching but they can’t hear, there’s no sound.”

“I can’t believe this is happening, look you have to understand that my children-”

“Everything’s gonna be alright sweetheart,” she reaches across the table and pats your hand. It’s the kind of touch that sends a tingle up your arm. She’s a wolf, but she doesn’t smell like any werewolf you’ve never encountered before, it’s just a faint scent that you never would have noticed without physical contact.

“What are you?” you tip your head, eyes narrowing.

“I’m a Beta, not many of us left.” She looks up maintaining her grim expression. “We have to go through the motions, so try not to look too comfortable, I’ll walk you through the process.”

Thank God, you sent up a silent prayer.

—–

Detective Linda Barden, Joe Burgess, and Keith Jablonski are gathered in a small windowless room between two interrogation suites. There are a handful of other cops in the room frantically pouring through files and evidence.

“There’s gotta be something we’re missing.” Keith offers with a shrug, “We just need one thing to tie them to one of the murders. Just one witness.”

“What about Dean?” Linda asks Keith.

“He’s not saying shit, just a bunch of fuck you’s.” Keith offers.

“Do you think the wife will break?” Joe turns to Linda.

“Yeah, but I need time. I called in child protective service, we’ll put the fear of God in her.”

“You think that’ll be enough to break her?” Joe persists.

“Like I said, it takes time. Sam’s got a hold on her, but if I can get her to realize all the shit he’s been doing right under her nose, that, combined with her kids hanging in the balance…I think she’ll flip. What about the guys? Neither of them has said anything we can use?”

“No,” Joe laughs, utterly exasperated. “It would be a fucking miracle. I think our best bet is to go after the wife. Sam’s a fucking psycho but he’s cool as a cucumber until you mention her or the kids. That’s where we gotta apply the pressure. We threaten her, we get the whole thing.”

“Time’s up.” Chief Calvin Wells doesn’t bother with a greeting, just throws the door open and stands wide with his hands on his hips. “What you got?”

“We’ve got a plan, sir,” Joe starts, “We need more time with wife, we can use her to-”

“I don’t wanna hear it,” Wells holds up his hand. “You’ve had the three of them here all day, not to mention the countless man-hours we’ve spent on this case. Almost a decade, the last chief let this go on and I’m putting stop to it once and for all. It’s a black hole. Now I’ve got a social worker comforting a distraught mother of four because she’s been cleared to take her kids home after she’s dealt with what social services described as ‘baseless accusations from an overzealous police department.’ And, you wanna know the kicker, the idiot cop you’ve got watching the kids doesn’t even know how to change a fucking diaper, the baby’s been sitting in shit for hours before my secretary took care of it. It’ll be a miracle if we get out of this without being sued.”

“They said the kids could go? Jesus fucking Christ, did the caseworker even look at pictures?” Linda balks, unable to believe what she’s hearing.

“It’s not enough. It was a long shot and you failed. Now get these guys out of my station house and do it now.”

“Chief, you gotta,” Joe protests, but Chief Wells is hearing none of it.

“This is not up for debate. You’ve got years worth of surveillance, potential witnesses, hell I got all the warrants you wanted and the most you could come up with is domestic violence? Get them the fuck out of my building. I swear to God if I hear another word about the Winchesters I’ll fire everyone in this damn room.”

The room clears out, people collecting boxes and the detectives disperse to spread the word that it’s finally over. Keith Jablonski hangs back until it’s only he and the chief before he closes the door.

“You ah… you think this going to come back to bite us in the ass?” Keith asks tiredly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Maybe, but it’s better than the alternative.” Chief Wells adjusts his belt, looking around as if some invisible presence might be listening. “I gotta explain to the Alpha why I allowed a swat team to raid his home when his kids were there. Barden jumped the gun and fucked us both.”

“He’ll understand, Sam’s fair.” Keith offers. They both know their pack leader is level headed about most things, especially in recent years, but his family is a whole other story.

“I hope so.”

—-

You sit in a chair in the lobby surrounded by a crowd of detectives and beat cops in uniform milling around, having uttered conversations with their breath. The tension is palpable. No one’s satisfied with the outcome of today’s events, including yourself. It’s unclear why there are so many people. Maybe they’re just curious, eager to lay eyes on the Winchesters in person, or maybe they think there’s going to be some kind of scuffle. All you’re focused on is the sound of Sam’s muffled voice behind the door before it open and he steps out into the lobby.

His eyes sweep over the line of people until he spots you getting up from your chair. You walk to him, ignoring the snort from Linda, and let him pull you in.

“You okay baby?” he asks, wrapping his arms around you until you’re completely engulfed. He might be the pack leader, but right now he’s your Alpha and no one else’s.

“Yeah, I just want to get out of here.” You pull away from him.

“Where the fuck are my kids?” Sam turns to Chief Wells, who looks to be in complete distress. He motions to the cop in uniform beside him tells him to go see what’s taking so long.

Dean’s the next to wander out, throwing Sam a knowing look and winking at you.

Linda takes this as her last opportunity and steps toward you, “Y/N, you can still choose to do the right thing for-”

“Just stop talking,” Sam interjects before you have the chance, stepping between the two of you. “You’re done.”

Liam is the first through the door, having obviously just woke from a deep sleep as he rubs his eyes. He smiles when he sees his parents, ignoring you in favor of his father. You don’t mind. “Daddy…” he mumbles.

Sam scoops him up, cupping the back of his head with a hand. “You ready to go home, buddy?”

Liam nods, nuzzling his face into Sam’s shoulder. The other three children are brought out. Colin’s sleeping and you take him from the officer, as Owen wraps himself around your leg. Sam hands off Liam to Dean without protest, taking Killian as he cradles the baby in his arms.

For a moment all is forgotten; the fact that you’re in a police station, or the hours of non-stop questions. Now all seems right with the world as you watch your Alpha hold his infant son in his arms.

–

Sam pulls the car away from the curb, two of your children already sleeping in the back, the other two with Dean. He glances in the rearview before reaching over to take your hand. “I’m so sorry.”

“They came into our house, Sam. With guns.”

“I know, I-” Sam closes his eyes trying to swallow the anger because there’s nothing he can do about it at the moment.

“They could have killed the boys.” You take a deep breath pressing your free palm into your thighs. “You told me you had this taken care of.”

“I do,” Sam squeezes your hand his, the other gripping the steering wheel, “It’s over now. They’re not going to come after us again. Wells wants to meet tomorrow, I’ll make sure everything is squared right away.”

“He wants to cover his own ass I’m sure.” You grunt. “He told you he’d make sure we had a warning before they brought us in, what the hell happened to that.”

“He said the detective that questioned you is the one who gave the order. He didn’t know until it was too late.”

“This can’t ever happen again.”

“It won’t.” He confirms with all the confidence in the world. “I’ll always take care of you and our family, you’re the most important thing to me.”

“I know,” you give in a little. “You really think they’re going to let this go.”

“Any detective that wants to keep their job is going to listen to what the chief tells them. We’re gonna be fine sweetheart. I promise.”

Three Months Later

Detective Linda Barden gulps down the final vestiges of her cheap wine and says goodbye to her sister. She’s visiting Lincoln for the weekend, just a quick trip to see her family and catch up on the life she left behind.

Wrapping her jacket around her body she starts the half mile walk back to her hotel. It’s just after midnight and, despite it being a Saturday, there aren’t many people out and about. Five minutes into her journey she hears it, the sound that a crying baby coming from somewhere in the distance. It isn’t until she passes the alley at the corner of Shaffer and Rollins that she hears it again, coming from somewhere down the dark back street.

The cop in her knows something isn’t right, but she can’t put her finger on it. Maybe it’s the cries of the child or the uneasiness that settles into her bones? Reaching for her gun she curses when she realizes she’s not carrying a firearm, why would she be? She’s on vacation.

Linda makes her way as quietly as possible down the alley, just one foot in front of the other, step by step on high alert.

“Hello,” she calls out in a whisper, “anyone there?”

She has no time to react as a body hits her at full speed, knocking the wind out of her as a hand closes around her throat. She’s pushed face first into a filthy brick wall, gasping for air. She tries desperately to fight back, she’s pretty damn strong but her resistance is futile against her attacker who seems to have inhuman strength.

There’s the sound of tearing clothes as her jacket is ripped from her body, then her shirt. For a minute she thinks she’s going to be raped, but then comes the bite. Teeth sinking into the flesh of her shoulder, sinking into her skin as she screams in terror.

Then, without warning, she’s released, falling to the ground listening to the footfall of her attacker. She sobs, clamping a hand over the wound, blood gushing out in a hot stream over her fingers. All she can think is: he didn’t kill you, you’re alive. You’re alive.

What she doesn’t know is what will happen when the full moon rises, but that’s a story for another time.

#Alpha!Sam x Omega!Reader #alpha!sam winchester #supernatural a/b/o

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loverontheleft · 6 years ago

Text

Angel

So apparently with the new update, I can’t fucking edit text posts?? (It would let me click edit but I couldn’t actually make any changes - wtf @staff??? That’s insane)

Anyway. I deleted the original and fixed a punctuation error and here’s the new, complete version.

By request kinda: Uhhhh I have a request based off of the most recent picture you reposted by @panicattheforeheadsblog.. I get such dom energy from that picture and I can't handle it. I'm just thinking so he's live on twitch talking to his fans about tour and stuff, and the reader wants his attention really bad so she creates a Twitch account with a username that makes him know that it's her, but not any of the fans. Then the reader starts teasing him, begging for him. When he sees it he tries to ignore it but she knows he knows and starts messing with him more. Until he finally says he needs to sign off for the night. He comes into the room and punishes her for acting out and gets all dom 👌. Lots of spanking 👀☕ Sorry if that's too specific I'm in a place and I got carried away 😂😂

Brendon x reader

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: Thigh-riding, oral (both), sex, spanking, language.

For @panicsinning and @theuriearchives because I owe them and they’re both wonderful creatures whom I and Brendon adore.

-||-

“Y/n.” His eyes flash behind his glasses as he pauses the stream. “I know that’s you. Stop it.” His composure breaks and he grins. “You’re being so bad, baby.” His voice is a low purr and it takes all of your self-control to not whimper.

“You love when I’m bad,” you tease when you’re sure your voice won’t shake with want, not looking up from your phone where you’re messing with the Twitch app you’ve just installed, purely to fuck with him because he isn’t fucking you. “Besides, I’m not doing anything.”

Brendon scoffs playfully and you smirk. “Okay. So the username that is a combination of my anniversary with my still-not-public girlfriend and her dog’s name is...who then?” You shrug, still not making eye contact, murmuring something about strange coincidences. “I swear to god Y/n,” Brendon laughs, shaking his head. “If you send one more message into the stream that’s just our joke-safe word,” and now you look at him, grinning. Everyone else in the stream has been ignoring your single-word messages of “cloth,” but you knew he was seeing them and you just knew it was getting to him. “You’re gonna need it,” he finishes, the longing and underlying tension clear in his voice.

You hesitate, unsure. “Is...is that supposed to make me not send it again? Because honestly, that’s not very convincing. You should try harder, B.” You stretch a little in the armchair opposite him on the couch, moaning at the pleasant burn through your legs. “You know I love it when you get a little rough. You feel guilty, but you shouldn’t; you know I love when I’ve got bruises on my thighs shaped like your fingers. Hold me tight, fuck me hard, make me tear our pillows apart with my teeth because you’re driving me wild with your tongue and fingers and cock.” You’re bouncing one leg crossed over the other, tone sugary sweet despite your words, and eyes still on your phone.

“Y/n, please,” Brendon groans with a smile, closing his eyes. He takes off his glasses and rubs the bridge of his nose. “You’re killing me. You’re so...god, baby, you know I want you.” You drop your phone and raise your eyebrows teasingly. “You’re killing me. Come over here.” He slips his glasses back on and pats his lap, rubbing his thigh. “Come sit, baby.”

“Someone is still supposed to be streaming…” you point out, giving him a suggestive smile, stretching again. “But that same someone,” you murmur, “is baiting me. Wearing his glasses, calling me baby, asking me to sit on his lap...someone knows I can’t resist any of those things.” He grins and closes his laptop, setting it to one side. You groan when he pulls his glasses down seductively. “Fuck, Brendon...you know I can’t resist that.”

“So stop resisting,” he tells you with a smile. “Come here, honey. You wanted my attention so badly; I’m going to give it to you.” You grin and roll off of the chair, landing on your hands and knees so you can crawl over to him, hips swaying. “You’re killing me. You’re fucking killing me,” Brendon groans as you move slowly across your living room and bite your lip, eyes on his. “No- fuck, Y/n, don’t fucking slow down- no!” He fists his hair in frustration when you teasingly move even slower, mimicking a sloth to perfection as you crawl in slow-motion. “Better,” he nods approvingly when you switch back to your original seductive speed. “Get over here.” When you come to a stop at his feet, he beckons you closer, so you rise up enough for him to bend forward and snake an arm around your waist and haul you into his lap. “There’s my girl,” he murmurs, nudging your ear with his nose. “There’s my girl who needs some attention, hm?” You nod sweetly and he grins, pulling back to kiss you softly. “You’ve got my attention. Why don’t you settle on my thigh here and let me give you my full attention?” You shift a little so you’re straddling his thigh. “Hi Angel,” he whispers, tugging a lock of your hair affectionately. “Ride my thigh, baby. Make yourself feel good, let me see you come like this.” You rise up to shove your leggings down and he stops you. ”Nope. Fully clothed. Want my angel to come for me fully clothed. Once she’s done that, she can strip for me and we’ll go from there.”

“You’re bad, baby,” you scold him teasingly. “Making me come in my panties and leggings.” He smirks and tells you it’s payback for your being bad earlier. “Fair enough,” you acquiesce with a shrug and rest your hands on his shoulders lightly as you start to move on his thigh. Brendon grins and points out that you’ve admitted you were being bad. “Shhhh baby. That was then. This is now. Fuck,” you mumble, closing your eyes. “Fuck, this feels so good. Your thighs Bren...they’re always talking about your thighs and wanting to ride them and come on them and Jesus if they only knew how good - oh, fuck!” Your voice jumps an octave when he starts kissing your neck. “Brendon, fuck! Don’t stop!” His hands wrap around your hips and he pulls you higher up his thigh so the top of yours is pressed to his erection. “Yes baby, fuck yes yes yes!” You’re squealing when you come, the seam of your leggings pressing against your clit and driving you over the edge, babbling your incoherent gratitude for his making you come as he rubs back against your thigh while making small sounds of pleasure. “Oh fuck oh god Brend-what are you doing?” You’re disoriented and panting when he turns and pushes you onto your back so you’re stretched out on the couch. “Oh fuck, baby, what are you doing?” You’re breathless now as he tugs your leggings and panties down in one swift movement and wiggles so he’s kneeling between your thighs.

“Speaking of amazing thighs,” he mumbles, pressing warm kisses up toward your pelvis, starting at your knees and alternating between legs. “My baby has the best thighs. And the best pussy. And the best clit. And now that she’s been good for me and come on my thigh, I’m gonna lick this perfect pussy until she comes again.” You’re squirming like crazy by the time his mouth closes over you and his tongue rolls out to taste you; you both let out broken moans of pleasure as his tongue moves deeper. “Baby,” he gasps against you. “Angel, my perfect girl, oh fuck.” His arms curl under your thighs and he spreads you wider for his mouth so he can really torture you with his licking and gentle sucking and moaning and kissing.

“Oh shit Brendon, baby, yes!” Your head is pressed back against the couch armrest and your hands are in his hair as his mouth moves faster and sloppier, refined technique abandoned as both of you know exactly what you need to get off and how much he loves making you come like this. “Don’t stop,” you moan as his mouth moves over you, tongue licking in broad, wet, warm strokes, teasing your clit with the tip of his tongue using delicate little licks. “Oh fuck Brendon don’t stop.” His lips are sliding over you; it actually feels like he’s making out with your pussy and, given the way he’s moaning, clutching your thighs, and rubbing against the couch, he’s loving it as much as you are. “Gonna make me come,” you manage, voice high and tight. “Gonna come, oh Jesus fucking Christ fuck me, Brendon, yes!” Your squeal of pleasure is ripped from you and you’re breathing hard, pulling at his hair, gasping and grinding and praising him. “So fucking good, oh Jesus Christ oh fuck Brendon making me come oh fuck baby the best you’re the best oh god yes yes yes!”

“Holy fuck,” Brendon groans, licking at you eagerly. “Goddamn, you’re so sweet, Angel. Oh Jesus, come for me one more time, my love. Need more.” His fingers slide into you and curl insistently. “Once more, baby.” You moan as he rubs against your g-spot and your body convulses. “That’s my girl,” Brendon murmurs against you, tongue already moving and swiping over you tenderly. “My baby comes when she’s told. Oh Jesus, such a good girl for me.” He scoots up and rests his head on your stomach, trying to catch his breath. “Sweet girl. Love you so much.”

“Oh god,” you whimper, reaching down and bending to the side to grope for his erection. “Oh Brendon, baby, need you. Oh fuck, please, please!” He nods and props himself up on one arm to move over you. You tangle a hand in his hair and pull his mouth, still slick with you, down to yours. “Cloth, baby, oh fuck, cloth.” Brendon pulls back and looks at you, obviously confused at your serious-sounding use of what has always been a joke safe word between the two of you. “If you don’t fuck me soon, I’m going to die. Save me.” You grin at him and he groans, crushing his mouth to yours and sliding into you; you scratch and claw at his back as he goes deep.

“Fuck, Angel. I’ll always save you.” You both gasp as you clench around him; his eyes roll back at the feeling and you’ve tangled your legs around him, lips parted in silent ecstasy as you both move together. “God fucking damn,” Brendon manages, trying to focus on your face. You whimper and nod, rocking upward to meet his hips. The movement makes the crown of his cock brush over your clit and you’re dizzy with lust; you can already feel your impending orgasm and he’s close too if the breathless praise he’s murmuring is any indication.

“Ow!” Your yelp of pain is sudden and you both start laughing after the shock passes. “Your glasses, baby.” You both stop moving and you reach to one side to grab the frames that have fallen off his face from his frenetic movement. “Here you go.”

“Should I go put my contacts in?” Brendon is laughing too as he places his glasses back on his face. You scoff and wiggle backward so his erection slips from you and you roll onto your stomach before arching up onto your hands and knees. “Baby?”

“No. Keep them on. They make me so hot. You’ll just have to fuck me from behind so they don’t fall off.” You’re grinning at him over your shoulder and he laughs, shifting too and gripping both of your hips. Abruptly, he comments how you won’t be able to see them on him though. “So? I’ll know they’re there,” you murmur, winking at him. “Fuck me, Urie.”

“Oh god,” Brendon groans as he thrusts forward. “Fuck, baby, you feel so- love fucking you like this - miss your pretty face but love holding you and going hard like you love- oh shit, Angel, yes, so goo-fuck!” His voice breaks off in a strangled moan as you tighten around him again, face buried in your arms as you work hard to meet him thrust for thrust. “Gonna come,” he warns you.

“Come, baby,” you pant, lifting your head and turning to meet his eyes as best you can. “Come in me. Come in your Angel.” He groans again, lurching forward to kiss over your neck. The edge of his glasses presses against your skin and you can’t control the whimper that comes out of you. “Fuck, Brendon!” He nods, tongue teasing behind your ear as he presses himself flush against you, his chest to your back. “Baby, I’m gonna-“

“Come,” Brendon gasps, biting down lightly. Your shriek fills the room and he bites harder, making your hips spasm as your orgasm rips through you. “Oh fucking hell, Angel, coming in you,” he grunts, lips grazing your neck. “Oh fuck! Yes, come on me, yes!” His fingers dig into your hips and his once smooth rhythm is gone as he convulses, gasping your name and filling you. The heat makes you quiver and you tighten around him instinctively, wanting more. One hand leaves your hip and snakes down between your legs to tease your clit; it’s an instant reaction.

“Yes yes yes yes yes!” Your entire body is shaking with exertion as you chant and fall apart under his touch. “Oh fuck, Brendon, yes, there, now, fuck!” Your voice is tight and your eyes are clenched shut; you can feel his breath on your neck and his middle finger is still moving over your clit in gentle circles. “Brendon, fuck!”

“Yeah Angel, say my name,” Brendon groans, resting his head on your shoulder blade. “That’s a good girl.” You’re both breathing hard; you can feel his chest heaving against your back before he scoots back and out of you. You whine at the loss, turning to give him a pleading look as he collapses in a seated position on the couch. “Come here, my love,” he murmurs, patting his lap. You turn and curl into yourself, head resting in his lap. Lazily, you run a finger up and down his still half-hard cock; he shivers and you grin up at him. “Angelbaby,” he says softly, stroking your hair. “Someone still has to be punished for misbehaving while I was streaming.” He takes a lock of your hair and twists it around his index finger, tugging affectionately. You smile up at him, wriggling closer to his erection and, eyes locked on his, you lick at the base of his cock, grinning when you feel him twitch at your touch. “Don’t think you can blow your way out of this,” Brendon says with a laugh, tugging at your hair again.

“Oh I know I can’t. I’m just offering.” You grin and wrap a hand around him, pumping slowly. “Think you can spank me while I blow you? I promise not to bite your dick.” You smirk up at him, squeezing the head of his cock and licking eagerly at the rest of his shaft. “I promise,” you repeat, eyes closed as you taste yourself on his cock.

“Fuck, Y/n,” Brendon says helplessly, raking his hand through your hair, eyes wide. “You’re so…”

“Sexy? Dirty? Good? Amazing? I’ll take any of those,” you tell him with a smirk. He laughs and massages your scalp as he tells you E, all of the above. “Good answer,” you murmur, shifting onto your hands and knees and swallowing him down for a brief instant before pulling back with an audible pop as you let his cock slip out of your lips. “How many spankings did I earn, sir?” You’re rocking back and forth, wiggling your hips in anticipation. “Angel was such a bad girl,” you purr, licking at the tip of his cock where a bead of pre-cum has appeared.

“She was,” Brendon agrees in a low voice, still stroking your hair lovingly. “How many does my girl think she’s earned?”

You pause to mull this over, stroking his cock idly as you think. “Well,” you muse. “Let’s consider what exactly I did. I teased you, certainly.”

“You did.”

“And it was public since you were streaming.”

“It was.”

“And I made you cut your stream short so I could get off on your thigh,” you point out. “Three things.”

Brendon nods, considering. His hand leaves your hair and starts rubbing gentle circles over your ass and the backs of your thighs. “I think twenty for the teasing,” he decides and you nod, telling him that sounds fair. He grins down at you. “And another ten for the public factor.” He pauses for another moment. “And another ten for ending the stream.”

“Forty?” Your voice is small and he nods. Using his free hand, he cups your face and raises it gently so you meet his eyes. He searches your face, concern evident.

“Angel, we don’t have to- you don’t have to- we can-“

“No,” you cut him off. “Forty is good. I’m okay.” He nods slowly, fingers stroking your face now tenderly. He’s your first boyfriend you’ve trusted enough to confess your interest in spanking and forty is certainly the most you’ve ever earned, but he’s been so good and compassionate as you both explore this. He was quick to tell you he’s never spanked anyone before, but if it’s what you wanted...the first night you tried was one that solidified your faith in and love for him - both of you giggling and moaning and touching and teasing throughout, both of you surprised at how much you both enjoyed it. Because of that, you have full faith he’ll take care of you, and you both know he’ll stop if there’s even a hint of you being uncomfortable. “Just…” you falter, trying to find the words. “Pace yourself,” you finally say, arching your back into his touch. “Maybe only do the last...ten at full force.”

“Of course, Angel. Whatever you want,” Brendon soothes, kissing you softly. “Don’t bite my dick.” You giggle and kiss him back, shaking your head.

“I promise. Will you be counting since my mouth will be full?”

“Yeah honey,” Brendon murmurs. “I’ll count. You just focus on my cock.” He shifts slightly and pats you gently, almost as a gentle warning. “You ready?” You nod and suck the head of his cock in between your lips. “Fuck,” he grunts, letting his hand make contact. “Sucks my cock so good. That’s one.” His hand pulls back and lands again. “Two.” You suck him down deeper, relishing how his cock twitches in your mouth when he spanks you. “Oh Angel, yes!”

-||-

You’re squealing around his cock, mouth tight and body rocking back and forth gently as Brendon reaches the final five. As promised, he’s at full force now and you’re so wet that it’s spread down your thighs. “Thirty-six,” Brendon groans, and you lurch forward under his hand. Your mouth tightens even more as your head moves down to take him deeper. “Fuck, Angel, just the tip,” Brendon tells you in a tense voice. “Just the tip. That’s a good girl. Thirty-sev-oh fuck yes, such a good girl for me, sucking on my cock so nicely, shit baby, oh god, thirty-eight, yes Y/n, yes yes yes love, thirty-nine oh Jeeeeeesus fucking Chr- shit!” Brendon is gasping as you suck hard, your hand clenching around the base of his cock and stroking upward urgently. You’ve been moaning and whining at each bit of contact, each time pushing you closer to the edge. “Gonna come with me?” Brendon groans, shifting slightly so the hand he’s been using to spank you is now between your legs and his other hand is angled, a bit awkwardly, to deliver the last swat. You nod as best you can with his cock in between your lips and he groans again, breath hitching. “Fuck, Angel. Jesus, okay, forty- holy sweet god in heaven yes!” Your own orgasm sends you reeling and you’re shrieking around his cock for the split second that he isn’t filling your mouth. His fingers slide into you and he curls them, doubling the intensity of your orgasm. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” Brendon’s helpless chant fills your ears and you swallow eagerly before letting him slip from your mouth when he’s spent so you can let out your own squeals of pleasure.

“Brendon, baby, yes!” Your voice is hoarse and he immediately wraps an arm around you and flips you onto your back before settling between your legs, laying flat over you so your chests are together. “Holy shit,” you murmur after a moment, brushing your fingers over his face tenderly, lingering on the frame of his glasses almost in awe. “You’re...you’re incredible.” You bite your lip before you kiss him gently and he meets your embrace, lips moving over yours.

“No, you are, my love,” he counters when you part. “You're something else entirely. I love you so much.” You repeat it back to him, letting your head rest on the throw pillows. He slumps over you, face in the crook of your neck. “Is it nap time, my love?”

“Hell yes,” you say with a laugh, running both of your hands through his hair as he nuzzles your shoulder. “I don’t think I could move an inch.” He smiles against your skin and makes a soft sound, agreeing with you. “Rest, baby,” you whisper to him, closing your eyes.

“You too, Angel,” he murmurs affectionately, turning his head to kiss your neck gently. “My good girl worked hard, taking those spankings and sucking my cock; deserves a good nap.” You yawn, already half-asleep as he continues to praise you sleepily, so you’re not positive, but you think the last coherent thing he murmurs is, “god bless these glasses.”

#brendon urie #my work #brendon urie imagine #brendon urie smut #brendon x reader #fanfic #imagine #brendon urie oral sex

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