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bonny-kookoo · 9 months

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Jungkook

X♡X♡ [SEVEN DAYS] Day 1

You're struggling a bit to comprehend the fact that you really did agree to this whole week-long thing with him. Luckily for you, Jungkook knows exactly how to ease you into things. But wait- why is he naked?!

Tags/Warnings: Porn with a lot of plot basically, inexperienced!reader, Dom!Jungkook, BDSM themes and elements, non-sexual nudity, safeword discussion, Corruption kink, some backstory on JK, Shibari, wax play, Dom/Sub dynamics (beginner/introductory), minor sub-drop, slight angst, dry humping, cumming inside underwear, massages, mentions of primal play, mentions of pet play, very light orgasm control, hinted praise kink, JK in nothing but dark grey Calvin's for like... 90% of this, hinted big dick!JK, they both in love it's kinda cute,

Shibari: a form of artistic bondage using rope to create visually appealing patterns on the skin.

Wax play: the use of body-safe candles to drop wax onto someone's skin.

Corruption kink: gaining pleasure from corrupting a seemingly innocent person.

Length: 6k words

-> Masterlist

A/N: I'll include a short definition of the kinks in every chapter because I just know someone's gonna ask/complain that I don't explain things enough in my works haha. Also my smut writing is kinda rusty I've noticed, so I apologize for that as well...

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"So.." You say through your food, chopsticks seemingly aiming for any piece of meat that could be done next on the barbecue in front of you on the table. "..do we like, need some fifty-shades-of-grey-type contract?" You ask Jungkook, who rolls his eyes.

"Absolutely not." He shakes his head, drinking some water. "Don't tell me you saw that movie too." He asks, and you shrug.

"Saw it with Jimin and Yoongi back when it was in the theaters." You say. "Yoongi said there was a lady who literally masturbated in the front rows, but I don't believe that. Who would do that in public?" You cringe to yourself, and Jungkook watches you for a second.

He's gonna put a no on voyeurism for you then, judging from that reaction.

"I'm surprised Yoongi went." Jungkook chuckles.

"Me too. Wasn't really sure why he did." You tell Jungkook, snatching a piece of meat for yourself. "He just complained over it the entire time anyways."

"Yeah, well-" Jungkook says, reaching for the scissors to cut up some meat. "-he's in the same scene as I am, so I'm not surprised he thought the movie was dogshit too." He explains, and your eyes widen.

"Wait, Yoongi ties people up too?!" You hiss, and Jungkook can't help but shake his head, laughing to himself.

"That's the tamest thing he does." He laughs. "Yoongi actually.. showed me most of the things I know." Jungkook offers, putting the scissors back to the side to instead pick up his chopsticks again. You wonder what he means by that.

"Like.. what?" You ask him, unsure- but you can't deny the curiosity inside of you. You had a hunch about Yoongi for a while now- and in a way, you can see him being in the whole scene a lot more than Jungkook. Jungkook is your fluffy buff but cute best friend- Yoongi has this odd aura to him that feels almost like a warning that he's hiding more of himself than he shows.

"I'm a Dominant person, right?" He asks you, and you shrug. "I like to be in charge, command and take the lead during.. scenes."

"Yeah, that part-" You say, stuffing a steaming piece of meat into your mouth, almost burning your tongue, "-I know about that stuff. Like, dom and sub, top and bottom all that." You nod, and he acknowledges it too.

"Good. Then you probably also have read that the best Dom's have been sub's in the past." He simply tells you.

"… so Yoongi tied you up before?" You ask, and Jungkook lets his head fall for a second.

"You're so cute sometimes, you know that?" He shakes his head, before he continues. "No, he actually didn't. I learned that part all by myself." He explains gently. "But before I could take charge, I had to learn. Someone had to get me into this stuff somehow, right?" He shrugs.

"So you and Yoongi were a couple at some point?" You ask, but he shakes his head.

"Yoongi and I had something similar to.. us, one could say." He explains across from you. "Simple exploration, nothing more than that." He tells you, before his chopsticks reach out to steal a piece of food right from between yours- and when you look up, he's staring right at you. "So now that I think of it, Yoongi and I had nothing like we do." He says.

"H..how so?" You ask, slightly intimidated.

"Because I don't just want to explore and leave you be after this week." Jungkook says. "I hope you know that I'm aiming for something entirely different here."

"For what?" You wonder, and he leans back, crossing his arms, grill in between you both sizzling loudly.

"Your trust." He shrugs. "Your love." He offers.

"What if I can't love the same as you do?" You say, a little defeated. You know Jungkook likes you- it's no secret. And you know he knows that you like him too- because it's no secret either.

"Then we'll search until we find what works." He responds.

"But-" You start, but he reaches out instead, a warm hand over yours cutting you off in midst of your sentence as he speaks to you, voice just as warm as his skin.

"I won't give up without trying first." He tells you. "And neither should you."

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"Why here?" You ask, as he adjusts the couch into a makeshift bed for the time being. You'll be staying the entire week with him, and you'd agreed to that, because you've stayed over a lot of times before. Jungkook's apartment is nothing new- it's familiar, like a second home, warm and comforting.

"Because my bedroom is too intimidating-" He starts, tucking in a bedsheet in the corners of the couch. "-and I don't want to ruin your own with memories that might be unpleasant." Jungkook offers.

"Oh." you simply say, unsure. You've not yet thought about the possibility of him doing something you.. don't like. What happens then? Will you have to leave, or will the week end before it's even begun? Will it make things awkward, and weird?

"Hey." Jungkook calls out softly, holding out a hand. You look at him confused. "The blanket?" He asks, and you remember now that you're holding one for yourself to sleep under tonight, giving it to him. He puts it in a corner for now, same with the pillows, before he pats the couch for you to join him on. "Are you scared?" He asks, and you shake your head- albeit a little unsure.

"Just.. nervous." You say. "It'll be weird."

"Maybe." He admits. "A lot of things are weird first time. Nothing wrong about that." He shrugs.

You sit down on the makeshift bed next to him, when he chuckles, and brushes your hair over your shoulder. "I'll go shower real quick, alright? You just get yourself comfortable." He tells you, and you nod, watching him as he leaves to walk into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

It's clear that he's taking his time in there, because even after an hour, he's not yet returned. Or maybe longer? You're not sure, because you know you've somewhat dozed off on the bed when you feel his hand on your shoulder, simple strap top giving him access to a lot of bare skin there. He smells nice, and when you reach out, his skin is warm.

Wait- skin?

The moment you open your eyes you're greeted with his bare legs- he's only really dressed in some… dark grey, very form-fitting Calvin Klein's that pretty much hide almost nothing, really. It makes you sit up suddenly, body having to take a moment for a second after the rather sudden movement, a chuckle heard from Jungkook who seems entirely unbothered by his almost-nudity. "Sorry I took a bit longer. I had to get some stuff." He explains, sitting up properly himself.

"Why- why are you naked?" You ask, unsure where to look. In his opinion, you're so.. adorably shy just from the mere sight of his bare skin that it makes his inner desire stir a little. The fact that he's gonna be the one to really help you discover some of your hidden fantasies gives him chills- the good kind, of course.

He can't wait for what you might be hiding.

"I'm technically not." He raises his brows playfully, before crossing his arms- noticing the way your eyes focus on them for a good moment. "And considering why you're here, you'll soon have to get undressed too." He shrugs.

"Oh.." You hum yet again today, looking down on your body. You didn't really think about that. Compared to his toned body, you're.. an embarrassment.

"A body is just a body." He tells you. "I know you don't like yours, but I promise you it doesn't look the same to me as it does to you." He reassures you.

"Do I have to.. like.." You mumble, and he understands.

"You don't have to do anything." He promises. "We can just forget about this whole thing-"

"No!" You deny, shaking your head immediately. You do want this. You do want him to.. love you the way he does love others. Or maybe you want to somehow make him love you in a more.. special way. You're not sure- you don't really know what exactly you want right now, but you do know that you trust him.

You trust him.

"I trust you." You say out loud, grabbing the hem of your shirt- when he reaches out.

"..can I?" He wonders, and you nod, raising your arms without thinking so he can easily pull the item of clothing over your head. It's cute, the way you already feed into his own interests and kinks, without even knowing- and is that a piercing decorating your belly button? "Good girl." He purrs, lifting your shirt over your head, before slip out of your leggings, sitting back down. His hands move around your back slowly, fingers easily finding the clasp of your bra to undo it, letting the piece of underwear fall down easily from your shoulders and into your lap. "Hey-" Jungkook says, and you look up at him. "-you're fine." He smiles, and you nod.

You're fine.

"You can keep on the rest." He says, referring to your panties. At least you chose some cute ones, you think to yourself a bit relieved, as you nod. "I know you said you can't imagine it-" He starts, grabbing some pale pink and rather… delicate looking rope from the side. "But I'd like to try it, still." He asks, and you nod. "I won't restrain you this time. I'll only show you what it feels like, so you can decide for yourself if you enjoy the sensation or not." He says, and again, you only quietly nod. "But before that.. we have to address this first." He chuckles, looking at you. "I need.. verbal responses from you. Not just somewhat of an answer."

"Like.. do I need to call you sir, or something?" You ask, and he smirks.

"If you want to, you can." He smiles. "But you don't have to. A simple yes or no works just fine for me. And-" He adds on, undoing the neatly folded nylon rope in his hands as he speaks. "-We need a safeword."

"A safeword?" You repeat, and he nods.

"Something other than stop or no that you say to end a scene and get you out of whatever position you might be in." He explains. "Preferably something odd, that you wouldn't normally say during sex, so it won't be used by accident."

"So like.. Tiger?" You ask, not really thinking about it, and he nods.

"Tiger it is." He agrees, tapping your folded knees. "Turn around for me, yeah?"

"Yes." You say, moving to sit in front of him, making him chuckle.

"Cute." He comments under his breath, before he positions the rope right under your chest. "Tell me.. what do you usually do?" He wonders, and you don't answer for a moment.

"Like.. when I do it myself?" You ask, and he hums an agreeing reply.

"Yes. I'd like to know." He tells you. "So I'll have somewhat of an.. idea what is safe and comfortable for you." He explains his reasons, while he moves and adjusts the pale pink rope around your torso. You've almost instinctively moves your hands to hold onto your neck so your arms are out of the way, and he can't help but grin about that.

So much to 'I can't see myself enjoying that'.

"Uhm.. I don't know-" You begin, unsure how to really talk about that. "I have like.. toys, n' stuff, and I usually do it in the bathroom cause I get the bed dirty otherwise.." You explain.

"Toys?" He asks, pulling the rope snug in some places- and while it's tight, it doesn't bother you at all, surprisingly. You understand when he said that some people feel some sense of security from it- it feels actually quite nice, even the knots you can feel dig a bit harsher into your skin.

"Yeah like.." You take a deep breath, somewhat to test if that's still a possibility- and you can, while his fingers seem to adjust some knots in the back. "..a normal… dildo." You cringe at saying it out loud, moving on quickly. "And a vibrating.. thing. I don't use anything else." You admit, and he chuckles, as he taps your butt.

"Sit up for a second." He commands, and you do so, letting him guide the two ends of the rope in between your legs before he helps you sit down again. "So other than that, I guess you just use your hand, am I right?" He assumes, and you nod.

"Yes." You add on quickly, squirming a bit at the sensation of the rope between your legs. You have to control yourself. It's clear that he said he doesn't want sex- yet.

"You're free to get.. turned on, by the way." He tells you, teasingly pulling on the ends that run through your legs as if to underline his statement. "After all, this is about you."

"But-" You complain weakly, trying not to move to much. "-What about you?" You ask, and he shrugs, something you cannot see.

"I'm getting my satisfaction, don't worry." He explains. You're not sure how that would work- but you don't question it either. Say.." He starts, tapping your elbows. "How do you feel, right now?"

"Good." You nod to yourself. "It's.. surprisingly comfortable. It feels nice." You say.

"It looks nice, too." he offers, hands moving over your skin, causing goosebumps to erupt on your skin. "Very pretty." He praises, and you decide you don't care if he's just speaking about his work- you take this praise for yourself, using it to fuel your own emotional state in this moment. He runs his hands over your arms that are now comfortably down, hands holding yours for a second. "Let yourself go." He chuckles. "You're still tense."

"I can't help it.." You complain weakly, unsure what to do. It does feel nice, you want to move- but in a way, it's not quite right yet.

"Then maybe I can help.." He offers, hands testing the waters it seems like as they run over your thighs, just touching, nothing else. "Would you want that?" He asks, and you nod, eyes closed. "Words, darling." He demands, face close to yours while his fingers suddenly dig into your skin, gentle punishment for not following what he'd told you to do at the beginning.

"Yes.!" You almost gasp out, when one of his hands moves to grab onto the back of the artistically tied harness, pulling you, arching your back for you as he forces you to rest your upper body against his arm. You can practically feel the way your underwear soaks up your arousal, rope suddenly moving a lot more easily with the help of it between your legs.

"Show me how your hips can move." He hums into your ear, and what should feel weird comes naturally. Like in a trance you follow his words, let yourself fall because he's basically seeing all of you right now anyways- and he's seen much more before, so how bad can it really be? You trust him.

You trust him.

You can hear his breathing right next to your ear, and your hand starts to wander- before it stops. "Can-" You begin, swallowing down before you can continue. "can I touch you?" You ask, unsure if the same rules that apply to you apply to him as well. It's only fair if they do, right? It's only fair to ask him for permission, right?

"Yes." He answers, and with that, your hand blindly searches- finds his knee, moves up his thigh, warm skin underneath your rather cold fingertips earning a change in the pace at which he's breathing in. You hold onto his leg for a moment, feel the muscles move underneath the skin for a good while, as you become more and more desperate for a release of any sorts. You want to touch him too, but you don't know how- so you just leave your hand where it is, not moving any further.

His head, meanwhile, leans down into the crook of your neck, placing soft kisses there, while the hand that's not holding onto your harness moves over your chest, grabs onto the soft flesh with almost rough motions. You can only imagine the sight of his inked hand holding strongly onto your skin, thumb running over your nipple as your breathing hitches, legs moving in any way you can imagine to adjust your position.

But it's not enough.

Only when his hand sneaks between your underwear, the rope and your skin do you finally make any progress, breathing heavier as his fingers seem to play around with you just the way you like it. And it doesn't take long for you to come undone, back arching more, eyes clenching shut as he helps you ride it out for as long as you can.

You notice after a moment or two how he has already begun to untie you- and in a way, you're confused.

"What're you doing?" You slur a bit exhausted, surprised yourself how much energy this seemed to have taken out of you.

"Untying you." He chuckles, continuing to undo all the knots while he holds you close to him.

"Yeah but.." You mumble, moving a bit so he can reach your back better. "What about you?" You ask, and he shakes his head.

"This isn't about me." He declines. "And I've had my fun, don't worry about me." He reassures, gently pulling out the rope from between your legs, making you cringe as you feel how wet you are down there. "There we go." He softly hums, running his palms over the red skin where the rope has left it's mark here and there. It doesn't hurt- though you do have to admit that your back and neck are kind of sore now. "How do you feel?" He asks, and you shrug- hissing when it stings.

"I think I pulled something, dunno.." You say, sitting up as he rolls up the rope again, setting it aside, before he helps you sit properly for a moment. "I'll go wash up.. sorry for the uhm.. sheets.." You mumble as you see the damp spot where you've sat on.

"No problem." He shakes his head, getting up as well to help you up. It's only when you enter the bathroom and Jungkook is still behind you that you suddenly question what's going to happen next. "What?" He chuckles, amused.

"Uh.. I need to.." You struggle, unsure how to tell him what you want to say. "I wanna shower?" You question almost, and he laughs.

"I know." He confirms. "And I wanna make sure you're fine." He tells you, and you look at him confused. "You might feel fine right now- but once that adrenaline goes down-" He tells you, a finger gently tapping your collarbone. "-you might not be."

But you cross your arms, stubborn as you are. "I'm fine." You tell him, and he smirks suspiciously, looking at you with his arms now crossed as well. "You said a no means no and I'm saying no right now." You huff, and he reacts at that-

though not in the way you thought he would.

Because he simply nods, uncrosses his arms, and sets some towels out for you to use. "Don't worry about running around naked, I'm not bothered." He simply snickers, before he leaves you alone, a moment of silence soon interrupted by him moving around in the living room, presumably changing the sheet over the couch. You slowly take off your pretty soiled panties, putting them in the hamper to wash before you get into the shower to clean up.

And much to your own dismay, Jungkook seems to be right, because suddenly, as the water runs over your skin and you're almost done cleaning up, you're not fine anymore.

Dark, rather upsetting thoughts suddenly grow inside your head, making you feel not shame- but something almost like regret. You should have insisted to do something for him, right? Maybe he wanted to shower with you because he felt like you were abandoning him.. just because he is a guy, doesn't mean that he's without any feelings. Did you upset him? He probably won't tell you even if he did.

A knock on the bathroom door is heard, and you're busy trying to pull yourself together, when Jungkook's still bare arm reaches out to turn off the shower, before he wraps a towel around you. Quietly he dries your hair with a towel before he leads you to your makeshift bed, now with new sheets, where you sit in silence until he returns with brush and hairdryer. Everything goes by in a blur, until you feel Jungkook's hands on your shoulders, his legs next to yours as he holds you close to himself.

You're waiting for the 'I told you so'.

But he doesn't say it.

Instead, he simply silently sleeps on the couch with you, letting you cling onto him throughout the small nap you take in the middle of the day as much as you want.

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A few hours later, when you wake up, things are.. weird. Just like you feared.

Jungkook is still sleeping heavily, right behind you with you laying on one of his outstretched arms, biceps serving as a surprisingly comfortable headrest. He smells nice, his body is warm, and he looks relaxed as he still slumbers away.

And yet, you feel odd.

He just quietly took care of you after.. what you did a few hours ago, but you don't understand why you actually felt that way. You know that it was irrational of you- nothing had happened, everything was fine, you made a decision that you felt most comfortable in. So why were you so distraught over it later?

Well, he told you that you might end up like that. You just didn't listen.

He slowly stirs behind you, waking up as he watches you already sitting on the couch, wide awake. He's careful but not overly cautious as he slowly gets up as well, simply observing for a minute or two before he decides to speak up.

"How are you feeling?" He asks, and you shrug. You're not sure. You don't know it yourself.

"I don't know." You answer because of that, because you can't give him anything than that.

"Hm, I can imagine." He hums simply, running a hand through his chaotic bedhair. "I knew you'd drop, but I also knew.. you had to experience it yourself." He shrugs, watching you with still sleepy eyes.

"Drop?" You wonder, and he nods leaning back on his hands.

"Think of it as.." he thinks for a good example, "when people go to concerts. And they end up crying afterwards. It's the same principle, at its core." He says, and only now, as you turn to face him, do you realize you're only wearing panties- just like he's only wearing his boxers, making you snatch up the blanket to cover yourself. You earn nothing but a chuckle from him. "What we did together gave you a rush. And without any aftercare, people crash down from it." He explains softly.

"So that's why.. you wanted to shower with me?" You ask. "Aftercare?" You wonder, and he nods.

"Its important. For everyone involved, not just the.. one receiving it." He offers.

"Were you.. upset?" You ask, and he shrugs his shoulders.

"A little." He honestly replies, and you're thankful for that. It only adds to your reasons to trust him.

"I'm sorry." You say, pulling the blanket a bit closer. "I didn't know."

"Now you do." He simply chuckles, a hand on your back as he gets up, and walks into the bathroom, getting some things you assume before he emerges again. He's still almost naked as he walks back to you, smiling in a friendly manner as he sets down a towel, and tells you to lay down on your stomach on it. You do as told- determined not to push him away this time.

He notices that change in your behavior almost immediately- and he can't help but feel excited about it.

You're swaying your legs a little as you watch him light a candle close by, setting it on a table for now before he leans back and watches you it seems like. You realize it's one of those he'd received in that package earlier today- and you're curious. "What're you doing with that?" You ask, chin on your arms.

"I'll.. let some of the wax drop onto your skin." He says, chuckles when you tense up. "Dont worry. They're body safe, very low melting point. I'm only using things I believe you can handle." He offers, when you feel something drop onto your back- right between your shoulder blades.

True. It's hot- but not unpleasantly so. Maybe like the warmth of a cup of tea maybe.

"After all…" he hums, one more drop under the last falling down. "…You're not only getting to know me.." he continues, voice almost.. sensual as he speaks, another two drops falling in quick sucession of one another onto your skin, straight on your spine. "…but I'm getting to know you, too." He tells you with amusement, free hand softly running over your back. "Your body is talking to me a lot more openly than you do, darling.." he purrs teasingly, and only now do you notice how dark it is in his apartment. How long did you two sleep? It must be almost nighttime by now- led lights and flame from the candle illuminating the room enough to see comfortably, while he runs his fingers over your skin, another set of drops falling down the length of your spine.

It's almost agonizing how slow this all is. Frustrating, even. But you try and stay composed, maybe that'll earn you praise?

It's only when he sets the candle aside, and starts to dig the heels of his palms into your muscles that you sigh out in pleasure, feeling how your sore neck and back relax. Of course he'd know everything about massages. Sometimes, you're convinced he knows everything.

It feels childish to think like that, but sometimes, you've caught yourself looking at Jungkook as if he's the answer to all your problems. As if he can just pick you up and whisk you off your feet, hold you close and fight all monsters like a knight in shining armor ripped straight out of cheesy romance novels. He makes you feel like that, at least. And maybe it's time to let him prove if he can be prince charming.

"There we go." He praises suddenly, hands still moving as he sits behind you, legs pulled over his thighs while he continues to push out the knots in your neck and shoulders. "Let yourself go." He mumbles to you, as if he's hypnotizing you. If he does, it's working, weirdly enough. "I'll take over from here, hm?" He asks, no, states, and you simply sigh, closing your eyes.

"Yes." Is your answer, and you can't see the way his lips twitch.

His arms push your legs closer to him, manhandles you gently to have your core right over what you assume must be his own length, barely contained in his underwear. You wonder what he looks like. You've been told you can't take much- how will he make it work? He feels strong, big- maybe too much to handle. But you want to learn, maybe there's a way. You want to take him, even if it hurts. You've never felt like that before- it had never been something.. attractive to you. But you want him to make you take it. You trust that he will, now that you think about it.

You don't even question if he will. You know he will- the anticipation lays in how.

Are you already realizing it? What you could have with him? Probably- maybe. Or maybe it's just the way his bulge feels pressed against your core that's making you dizzy in the head. Yeah. That could be it, too. The way it's hot and hard, giving you nothing but a teaser of what he's got hidden away from you. How cruel he is. You want to see him.

"So needy.." he hums, chuckles, as his hands move with the help of the oil from the candle, fingers sliding easily down your back, to find their way around your waist to hold you. "Poor thing.." he mumbles towards you, grabs a bit more harshly at your flesh as if to test, and you want to whine-

But you swallow it down, making Jungkook tilt his head a bit with a smirk.

Not quite there yet, he thinks to himself. But I've got six more days to go to make you mine.

"Tell me what you're thinking." He asks- demands, because there's no question about this sentence you notice. It makes your spine tingle, a sudden urge to please and voice out your thoughts boiling up in your throat, as you let out a breath first and foremost, and he can't help but be affected by it, length in his underwear twitching impatiently at the sight of you so lost in pleasure. Oh the things he'd love to do to you make him greedy almost, mind coming up with scenario after scenario he'd love to see you in.

How long could he edge you until you'd cry and beg for him to let you have your release? Or how often could he make you cum until your body would give up?

How far would you go to please him?

Would you let him hunt you down like nothing but prey, just to feast on you, sex all bite and scratch and nothing but primal urges needing to be satiated? Or maybe you'd rather play his pretty little pet, loyal at his feet, patiently awaiting his command?

There's so many ways he can think of to corrupt you.

And he wants to try them all.

"You-" you answer his earlier question, hiding your face in your arms as you move your hips, grinding over his crotch on the hunt for your release. He'll be easy on you today, won't tell you no, will let you have it if you so desire. "I'm.. thinking-" you stutter a bit muffled into your arms, "-of you..!" you press out, and he can't help his smile from forming as he leans back his body, pulls you a little more roughly over his groin, unable to hide his growl as you become more and more shameless, moving erratically to gain any form of friction from him.

"Good." he sighs out as an answer to you, hands grabbing at your bottom, the urge to hit the soft flesh at least once agonizing- but he controls himself, holds back, just as to not overwhelm you too much at once. Instead, he presses you down, helps the movements of your lower body, earns a whimper as payment for it, and he can't help but be affected by it as well. "The only thing you're allowed to think of is me, understood?" he tests out, and much to his delight, you nod.

"yes-!" it feels like you almost want to say something else- and he wonders what your choice would've been, but he doesn't pry. He's got enough time to find out about it soon, after all- and he can be surprisingly patient, especially when it comes to things he's passionate about.

And god, is he passionate about you.

Suddenly, he wants to know. Wants to test you, despite his earlier choice of wanting to take is soft and slow- as his hands reach out, arms hooking underneath your thighs, suddenly lifting you up, leaving you with nothing before he turns you around onto your back, hands on your hips pressing down, preventing any movement. "Please-!" you beg, and he watches in interest how you struggle against him.

"Please, what?" he asks, acting nonchalant. "What do you want?" he wonders as if he doesn't know, and you look at him like you're searching for something, or maybe you're just collecting courage. For what, he doesn't know- yet.

"Please- let me.. cum.." you try, but it's not quite right for him. You also don't seem uncomfortable with the situation- you seem more like you're holding back, like you're unsure, hesitant.

"Hm, that won't do."he shakes his head, leaning further away, though his hold on you still keeps you still. "Try again." he tells you, and you close your eyes, like you're bracing yourself.

"Please let me cum!" You repeat, though this time with a lot more confidence, and he grins at that, one of his hands taking the front of your panties into it, before he pulls it up, fabric slipping between your lower lips, already drenched in your arousal.

"Go ahead then." he tells you. "Give me a good show, yeah?" he almost sings, and you immediately move, frantically so, hips rolling in desperation as he watches, muscles in your thighs stuttering especially when he helps you assist, pushing you towards your orgasm a lot faster than you anticipated.

It leaves you gasping for air, hips stuttering as you try and catch your breath, core clenching around nothing for a good while. The moment you open your eyes you're greeted with the sight of someone more akin to a demon, a predator, Eden's sin recreated as a human person- the sweat on his skin making him look as if he's glowing, eyes sharp and pupils blown wide, one hand carefully running over your thigh while he other is on his-

oh.

Oh..

There's a clear and surprisingly big stain on his dark grey Calvin Klein's, and you turn red as you realize what that must be. It gives you an odd boost of confidence, knowing that the sigh of you had done that to him- had helped him get to this point, even if just a little. It still counts, you still take it- as he smiles, and leans down to gently kiss your cheek.

"Good girl." he praises quietly, and this time you don't mask your whimper of pleasure, this one of different nature as you bathe in the praise clearly directed at you, you, and only you.

You feel drunk.

But this time, you happily let him move you around, pick you up and carry you into the bathroom, where he helps you step out of your underwear, your state leaving no room to feel shy about your nudity in front of him it seems like. He's used to it- it's nothing new to witness, but considering it's you in this state, he's even more gentle than he would usually be in a situation like this. how can he be with anyone else after you?

He doesn't know. And for now, he won't think of that.

All he knows is that underneath the shower, and later on on the couch where you'll sleep for the entirety of the week, he's got you.

And he'll do his best to keep you at his side forever.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #bts smut #jeon jungkook x reader #bts jungkook imagine #bts jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #dom jungkook #dom!jungkook #bts jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #bts jeon jungkook imagine #bts jungkook fanfic

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softlyspector · 10 months

Text

Picture

Summary: You really want to take Joel's picture. He can't really figure out why.

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!Reader

Word count: ~2.1k

Warnings: nudity, taking nude pictures, smuttish themes and allusions but no actual smut, Joel being kinda dense/insecure about his looks, mostly unedited

A/N: Happy Sunday! Brought to you by more brain worms that caused this when I was supposed to be working on other things. Something tells me that Joel doesn't exactly know how pretty he is, so this is a result of that thought.

“Just one picture,” you plead.

You're smiling, holding the polaroid camera in your hands at an angle, naked as the day you were born where you straddle his hips.

Your thighs are wet, your release and his smeared between your thighs and his and over his hip and waist. His cock is already half hard again, and the movement of you wriggling back as you aim down at him doesn’t help.

He grunts and digs his fingers into the meat of your thighs. You just laugh at him, readjusting your grip on the camera.

Joel's eyes slide over you, the curve of your waist, the plush fold of your thigh and hip, the dip of your breasts and peaks of your nipples. He wants to reach for you, pull you down into him, but settles for rubbing his palms over your thighs instead, tracing circles there.

You’re still dewy with exertion; your skin glows in the low lamplight of his bedroom. Joel isn’t really sure how he got so lucky, lucky enough to have someone like you focusing all their attention on him.

“And what, darlin’, do you plan on doin’ with such a picture?”

He ain’t big on pictures. He poses for them with Sarah sometimes, just because he wants her to be able to look at them when she's older, mostly for the memories and so she has something of her old man when she’s grown.

Joel figures he isn’t really much to look at, so the why of the picture is miffing him just a little. Why would you want a picture of him? Especially one like the one you're attempting to get him to take now?

He’s fairly sure you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever laid eyes on.

He’s also fairly sure you’re out of his league by miles and miles. So if anyone should have their picture taken, it's you.

You hold the camera up to your eye and aim it at him, but your finger remains decidedly still against the button. “It’d be just for me. You're too handsome to share with anyone else.”

He rolls his eyes and anchors his hands on your hips. “Right.”

“You are,” you reaffirm, lowering the camera. “So pretty." You pause and tilt your head. "I won't take it if you don't want me to. But maybe I could sweeten the deal a little?”

“How's that, honey?” He traces one hand over the curve of your waist, runs the knuckles of his opposite hand delicately up your side, until he can swipe his thumb against the underside of your breast.

You shiver and lean into his grip, your eyes a shade darker than before.

“I’ll let you take one of me. A really scandalous, salacious one,” you promise, carefully setting the camera on the messy bed before you lean over him. You cup his face in your hands, eyes flicking over him like there’s something to see.

Like he's a vault you can't quite figure how to unlock.

He raises a brow. “And mine won’t be?”

“Not as scandalous, not if you don't want it to be. I’m not angling to push my luck with you, Joel Miller.”

He snorts again, sliding one hand against the back of your neck to keep you pressed close to him. You close your eyes and breath out, a delicate little sigh that puffs over his lips.

The room is warm, too warm. The fan running in the corner does little to stir the heat in the room and nothing to dispel the heat between your bodies. He won’t say he minds though. He was plenty hot before, but if it kept you pliant and naked in his bed, he won’t complain about it.

His eyes flick down, over your bare body. Something beautiful and soft. Something really worth taking a picture of.

“Just can’t see why you’d want somethin’ like that.”

“Well,” you murmur, rubbing the tip of your nose against the side of his. “You don’t have to see why. Just know I do.” You blink your eyes open and tilt your head against his.

Joel wants to hear it though, something in him really wants to know. So, against his better judgment, he asks again, “Why?”

You pull back a fraction, even though he keeps a steady pressure on the back of your neck, trying to keep you near. Your eyes are clear and curious, maybe a little confused. “Joel,” you laugh, leaning down to kiss him, thumbs running over his cheeks. You taste sweet, a little like yourself, and bitter, a little like him. “I mean…” you trail off against his mouth. “Do you want one of me?”

“Yeah, ‘course I do.”

He’d keep that picture somewhere safe, somewhere that only his eyes were ever in danger of seeing it. If you trusted him to keep it safe for you.

Joel would look at it, on the nights you couldn’t come over. Fist his hand around himself and daydream of you, think about how nothing and no one else would ever be as good as you, as your pussy wrapped snugly around his cock.

You arch an eyebrow at him, like you can see all the thoughts running through his head. “Right, so why wouldn’t I want one of you?”

He squeezes the back of your neck gently and then releases you, tracing a finger over the shell of your ear and cupping your cheek. “Well, we ain’t exactly twins.”

Joel means it as a joke but you suddenly jerk back, your eyes darting over him. “You don’t know, do you?”

“Know what?”

You don’t answer, rolling your eyes at him instead. He lets you pull back from him reluctantly, the warmth of your palms on his face disappearing. You shift back until you’re sitting mostly on his thighs, the warmth of your pussy leaking right over his cock. You rock your hips against him just once, smiling and grabbing the camera when he hisses and hooks his hands against you, to still the movement of you over him.

“You’ll be the death of me,” he says, leaving little crescents in your thighs and then divots by your hip bones.

“No I will not,” you disagree. “Now, look here, Miller. One picture. Then we look at it together and if you absolutely hate it and still don’t get it—well, you can watch me rip it up.”

There’s nothing he’d really say no to you about. And this is harmless, with a built in out. “Fine,” he grumbles.

“Fine,” you repeat, pitching your voice to match his, accent and all. “Jesus, you’d think I asked for the moon!”

“The moon would be more understandable, darlin’.”

“Yeah alright, okay, hush.” You lift the camera to your eye and then lower it immediately, frowning at him.

“What? Comin’ to some kid of realization—”

You aren’t, evidently, just rearranging his limbs—tucking one arm above his hand, running a hand through his already messy hair, angling his jaw slightly up. You unfurl his other clenched fist and splay his fingers over the middle of his belly.

“There,” you say with a nod, seeming satisfied with your work.

A long moment passes where you just look at him, tracing your fingers over the vein on the inside of his bicep and over the curve of his shoulder.

Something like embarrassment claws up the inside of his chest. He should be looking at you like that, not the other way around.

“What?” His voice is gritted and sharp.

You just smile at those jagged edges. “Nothing. Just committing this to memory in case you make me tear up my picture.”

“See,” he grouses. “It’s like you don’t need a picture at all.”

You just roll your eyes and lean back. Joel has to resist the urge to move, to reach out and cup his hand against your lower back to steady you. “Stop making that face,” you say, camera pressed to your eye.

He frowns, and you giggle and snap the picture without warning.

The camera whirs and spits out a picture, which you pluck up and unceremoniously roll off of him and into the empty space next to him on the bed, shaking the picture by its edge as you go. A cloud of your scent puffs up around him, like sex and the taste of your skin, that dark perfume you always wear like the black of forests long forgotten. “It’s gonna be a good one,” you say, pillowing your head on his shoulder and tangling one leg over his.

“Am I allowed to move now?” He grumbles.

The acid sarcasm on his tongue makes you laugh. “Sure, baby,” you coo, “whatever you want.” Joel rests his chin on the top of your head, and you keep shaking the photo until it's developed enough that he can see the outlines of his figure.

It’s then that you turn it away so he can’t see it.

He watches your face instead, but you don’t give anything away. You stay silent and still, your eyes flicking over the image curiously. He can’t read the cut of your gaze. “C’mon, honey,” he pleads. “Put me outta my misery and lemme see it.”

“Okay,” you agree softly after another long minute of silent staring.

And then you tilt the picture towards him so he can see it.

Joel gets the sense he’s looking at another person, someone other than him. The man in the photo looks—well, not worn, not tired. He's...well, if he had to say, he'd say he's handsome. Pretty, as you said.

He’s frowning, but it reads as a…maybe a brooding kind of sexy. There are things he doesn’t like—the crinkled lines by his eyes, the softness of his belly, the lock of hair that sticks straight up off his forehead.

But, the rest of it. Golden skin, taut muscle in his arms and chest, dark hair on his belly that leads lower. His jaw is sharp, his eyes dark. Your soft thighs bracket his hips, just barely in frame. He likes that he can see part of you in the picture too. He likes that he can see traces of you on his skin—purpled bruises on his collarbone that the neck of his t-shirt would hide from everyone else's gaze, the sheen of something damp on his stomach just below his veined hand.

Now, maybe he understands a little more. Maybe he can at least understand why you’d want the picture.

“So,” you start after a few minutes of relative silence in the muted hum of the fan working overtime in the corner of the room, the sound of your breathing mixing with his. “Do you see now? Or do I have to rip it up?”

Joel turns his head to meet your bright gaze, the answer already known to you. Instead of answering you, he asks, “When do I get to take your picture, sweetheart?”

You ignore him. “It’s because you’re so handsome.” You trace the picture with your thumb, your eyes locked back on his image. “How is it that you don’t know?” Joel isn’t sure you’re talking to him anymore. “You don't know you're so...pretty,” you say again. “And just how I like you. With those big, dark eyes and—”

“Alright,” he cuts you off, his voice caught in the back of his throat. “That’s enough a’ that. You don’t have to rip it up.”

“Good, I wouldn’t have anyway.”

You would have, if he’d asked you. “My question stands—when do I get to take yours?”

You roll away from him and carefully set the picture on the bedside table. “After you fuck me again.” Something in your gaze darkens, desire pooling in the depths of your eyes.

Joel chuckles, warmth burrowing down in his chest. “Why not now?”

“Well, won’t I be all glowy and loose then? Y’know, like blissed out.”

“Tall order,” he comments as you press yourself into his arm, the weight of you pleasant, your eyes dark and waiting, wanting.

“Not for you.”

Maybe you’re just trying to stroke his ego, but he doesn’t care because it's working and it's probably true. He's good to you, for you.

Your legs lock around his hips when he slots himself over you, pressing his hips to yours and to the needy warmth between your legs. When your eyes flutter back, he thinks that’s something he’d like to have a picture of.

That, and everything else, every other part of you.

“What if I want more than one picture?”

“Picture for a picture,” you sigh as he drags his mouth down the side of your throat, the taste of your skin like the salted sea. “That’s the only way it’s gonna work.”

Maybe he can learn to live with that, if he gets to see you look at him the way you looked at that picture.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction

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genshindsau · 2 months

Text

Summary: Scaramouche struggles to accommodate to his place in the harem. It isn't easier when some of the other members of the harem constantly try to talk to him or make him spend time with you. He tells himself he doesn't want to, that he is fine blending into the background and being easily forgotten (is he truly?). Concubine!Scaramouche. Empress!reader

CW: Reverse Harem, cursing, sexual implications, nsfw mentioned but not actually described, mentions of Scaramouche's past (as well as other characters), Scaramouche is rather rude in this and can be degrading to the other members, sexualization, literally just Scaramouche struggling with his feelings, non-sexual nudity.

AN: This wasn't exactly what I originally planned, I ended up including a lot about other characters rather than focusing just on Scaramouche and the readers... oh well. There are also a bit of time skips. Dialogue may be choppy as well, especially towards the end. If its to hard to follow please feel free to let me know.

"I'm just saying, when she does the thing with her fingers…" Childe, as he likes to be called, curled two of his fingers in front of Scaramouche's face. He was wearing a cheeky smile, his eyes glittering as he stared at Scaramouche.

Scaramouche clenched his jaw, grinding his teeth together as his eyes narrowed at Childe.

Go away. Please. Go away. He kept repeating these words in his head.

"Oh," Childe leaned forward, his chin resting on his palm. "I suppose you wouldn't know."

His words held no malicious intent. There wasn't any pity either. Scaramouche knew that but he still wanted to scream. He also wanted to punch Childe right in his bright, smiling face. He was getting too much enjoyment out of bothering and annoying Scaramouche.

"There is nothing wrong with not defiling myself."

Childe snorted. "Is it really defiling? I mean," Childe shrugged his shoulders. "She is our wife."

"No, she isn't. Neither of us are legally married to her."

"Exactly," Childe snapped his fingers. "We're concubines; Her concubines. We get all the fun."

Fun? What part about being a concubine is fun? Childe is a mindless puppy who will go wherever you ask, do whatever you ask. Even kill whoever you want. He has had the unfortunate experience of seeing Childe covered in blood and a body at his feet. When you appeared, he expected the worse. Expected Childe to be whipped or scarred. Instead, you ruffled his blood-coated hair and said you deal with the clean up.

Why is he even listening to him?

"Look if you really don't want to spread your legs for her," Scaramouche cringed at Childe's words. He had a feeling Childe was making his words as crude as possible to get a reaction from Scaramouche.

He was succeeding.

"Then that’s fine. But you do a really shitty job at hiding the way your eyes linger on her."

"I - I do not!" Scaramouche balked at him, his cheeks heating up.

"Really?" Childe deadpanned.

"I would not consider it! She already has more than enough people who would let her use them. I will not be one of them."

Scaramouche felt like he needed to defend himself. Needed to make himself stand above the others and not be one of the men who succumbs to his position as a glorified body to use. He lasted this long - lasted through multiple masters without ever having to give them his body. He can't allow that to change.

You've never even touched him, his mind whispered to him. Aside from the time you disintegrated his previous collar, you've never laid a hand on him.

Childe quieted for a moment. It unnerved Scaramouche as Childe stared at him. He felt like he was looking into his soul and he almost wanted Childe to keep teasing him. He'd prefer that to how he was now looking at him.

"She's not like that." Childe voiced out. His voice almost stern.

"If you're really not interested, then whatever. That's fine. But don't assume things about her when you haven't even try to understand her. She may be cruel to her enemies but they deserve it. She would never force anyone - never force her concubines or consorts to do anything they didn't want. Whether that is in her bed or in their personal life."

Scaramouche's eyes wavered at the shift in Childe's tone. Childe sounded dangerous right now.

"Why," Scaramouche's voice cracked. "Why would I even want to know her - or understand her?"

"Our lives are dedicated to her. They belong to her, wouldn't you - "

Scaramouche cut him off " - And you're okay with that? Belonging to someone like her. Someone who is part of the Imperial Family?"

Childe cannot be that daft. Everyone knows about the Imperial Family. Knows that no one should trust them. Knows that they are cruel, tyrannical, and would do anything to be the empress. He doubts that you are any different. No, he knows that you are no different.

"Sure." Childe leaned back against his chair, his tone softening now. "She gives me whatever I want. Lets me have some control over my life. Lets me fight. But she also protects those who belong to her. She's stern and callous and can be this terrifying larger than life figure but that does not mean she is going to go down the same path as her family."

"… you can't be so sure of that."

"Just like you can't be so sure that she will turn out like her family. I believe in what I see. Maybe she puts on a certain façade in front of us but so what if she does? She still treats us better than anyone else would."

Scaramouche cant find it in himself to refute anything Childe says. He pointedly ignores the underlying truth in Childe's words. It doesn't matter if you've never laid a finger on him or even so much as spend time alone with him. You're royalty. You're part of the imperial family. That automatically makes you a terrible person in scaramouche's eyes.

Scaramouche was dragged out of his thoughts by the scraping of a chair against the floor as Childe stood up. He stretched his arm above his head before resting a palm on Scaramouche's shoulder, ignoring the flinch that came from Scaramouche.

"If you want to ask anything? Or If you want to try something? Anything? I'm sure she will listen if you ask. You just got to be brave enough to do it." Childe winked at him as walked out of the room, humming happily.

Scaramouche ignored the subtle blow to his character from Childe. He was fine the way he was now. He was fine staying in his room and being an easily forgettable presence (no, he wasn't). He was fine not getting close to you or the others in the harem. Keeping to himself is how he has survived everything he has been through, so he will do what he has always done.

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Scaramouche kept his eye trained on the plate, ignoring the simmering of anger and something else in his gut that he can't name. It was dinner. He dreaded dinner because he was forced to sit with everyone - with you, even though he is about seven seats away. You barely said a word. If it wasn't for the heaviness in the air he might have been able to ignore you and pretend but your presence always left an uncomfortable weight settling around his body - like your engulfing him; all around him no matter how far away he stands.

He wonders if the others feel it. If they do they don't care; or rather revel in the feeling. It just makes him overly conscious.

His hand clenches around the fork in his one hand, turning pale due to the strength as he has to listen to the incessant chattering of the others. It grates on his nerve, rubbing him raw as he has to listen to the happiness that flits from every voice he hears - yet he doesn't hear yours.

He startles as a hand clasps on his shoulders, a good portion of eyes also landing on him. He blinks a few times barely realize someone was calling him. His eyes land on Childe first because of course it does. He then looks to see Venti (fuck), Heizou (double fuck), and finally Itto (well now the world is just being cruel) sitting across from him.

Childe is leaning back in his chair, two of the legs lifting off the ground. "You really have no filter."

It took Scaramouche a moment to realize Childe wasn't talking to him but rather Itto who had an annoying innocent smile on his face. Venti looked somewhere between interested but closed off. His body curls into itself, his shoulders hunching in such a small move that Scaramouche is sure he is the only one who noticed. In the back of his mind, he wonders if these kind of talks drag up old memories for the other concubine - not that he cared enough to learn anything about the others, he just happened to hear about it in passing. Heizou on the other hand has a shit-eating grin on his lips, teeth bared in laughter.

"I - " Itto gawked for a moment. "It's a perfectly normal question."

Scaramouche tried to refocus, to remember what was said but he couldn't.

"Maybe so but asking at dinner, really?"

"Where else am I going to ask? He scurries off like a little mouse whenever he's spots anyone. It's natural to want to know more about each other." Itto is wonderfully dense at times it seems like both a blessing and curse. Scaramouche wants to curse him out but there is no malice in Itto's tone, just genuine curiosity and his words curl uncomfortably in his throat.

"And asking about the time he spent with y/n? That's getting to know him?" Though it may sound like Childe is admonishing Itto, the smile on his lips says the exact opposite. Childe could careless, he was just enjoying the way this would egg on Itto and annoy Scaramouche.

"Besides everyone know he hasn't spent the night with her - or even an evening with her." Heizou was the one who spoke this time.

"That is none of your business!" Scaramouche sputtered out, his ears turning red.

"Seriously?" Itto turned to Scaramouche with wide-eyes. "Why not?" It was an innocent enough question but Scaramouche wouldn't answer - much less at the dinner table where everyone is basically in love with you and not to mention the fact that you are only seven or so seats separated from him.

"It's no use," Childe shrugged. "I've already asked him about it."

"You didn't ask, you interrogated me." Scaramouche gritted back.

Childe just waved a dismissive hand.

"Why complain. As far as I see it, that means more time for us." Heizou spoke up.

"Well yeah," Itto agreed. "But still… you should be able to experience things with her. I mean, you haven't even spent any time with her? At all?" Itto seemed genuinely curious but all Scaramouche could do was grind his teeth as his eyes narrowed at the plate in front of him. He focus on ignoring the embarrassment that caused him to want to curl up in his seat and well just die. He thinks that would be preferable over what he is currently going through.

He's thankful that he is sat at the other end of the table. Maybe, just maybe there is a chance you didn't hear any of the conversations, the teasing aimed towards him. Yet he knows you did - that is if you decided it was important enough to listen to, you would.

Without meaning to his eyes flickered down to your end of the table. Your head was angled and he followed where he thinks your eyeline would be and landed on Aether and Tigh-nari who appear to be laughing together about something. You're face doesn't even twitch, your lips don't curve upwards but they don't frown either. It's completely neutral, just like it was when he first met you - when he still belonged to Ei - but it didn't feel nearly as oppressive.

He didn't understand why. Nothing's changed. Not for him.

"I don't want to." He kept his voice low. "And I do not see how it is any of your business or why you keep bringing it up," He glared specifically at Childe who stared back at him.

Itto gaped at him for a second before he shook his head. "We're not trying to make you uncomfortable or anything. I didn't mean to imply anything lewd. But… you don’t want to be involved in anything - whether it is with the harem or y/n. You're going to spend the rest of your life here, with her, with us - with all of us, even the people who seem to be the hardest to get to know want you to be comfortable and happy here. Closing yourself off, distancing yourself… maybe you had to do it in the past but the people here,” Itto shook his head and let out a heavy sigh. “What I am trying to say is that no one here wants to hurt you or see you suffer."

The last thing Scaramouche needed is to be told this by Itto of all people. He wanted to scream. Wanted to rip his hair out. Most of all he wanted to rip out the longing that wracked through him at Itto's word. It felt like he was peering down into Scaramouche's soul and voicing out everything Scaramouche had pushed down. Tucked so deep inside of him that even he forgot.

When he was younger, that was all he wanted to hear. After he was taken the first time, he imagined faceless people who accepted him and loved him but as months passed, then years and then he was sold to Ei, he forced himself to get rid of that pathetic yearning. People just weren't like that. People were selfish and cruel.

Yet, he saw it around the harem building and in the palace countless times. Thoma baking treats for the rest of the harem members just because. Venti who stayed up playing the flute for the others who couldn't sleep. Even Ayato - who Scaramouche deemed the most selfish - would cover the other harem members up in a blanket if they feel asleep anywhere. Aether, who knitted blankets in the winter, not only for the harem members but also for servants and staff.

You… you who never raised your voice at your harem members. You who took in a unconventional men - Itto, Venti - and never made them feel less than because of their background. You who carried them to their beds when they fell asleep. You who…

It doesn't matter. None of it matters.

"You're sheltered. Naïve." Scaramouche forced out between his teeth. "We're not family. We're not brothers. We're all stuck under the whims of a women who could kill us with a thought." His voice increased in tone as he spoke. He wasn't shouting, but he was loud enough to draw attention to himself. "I will never think of myself as lowly as the rest of you do." He squeezed his eyes shut.

He was telling himself to shut up. Screaming at himself inside of his mind but he couldn't stop.

"I won't settle for debasing myself like the rest of you do. Especially for someone who doesn't even love you back."

There was a small cough and Scaramouche froze. It was silent - no one else at the table spoke and he could feel numerous eyes on him. The color drained from his skin as he hastily stood up, throwing the napkin on the table before quickly leaving the table. He didn't even care for protocol or for your dismissal.

As he fled down the halls, tears of anger and embarrassment burned behind his eyes but he didn't let them fall, even as they blurred his vision. The door slammed shut behind him and he collapsed against it, his head thumping against it as he cursed at himself. Cursed at the others for being so kind to him. Cursed at you for not being as horrible towards your harem as he wanted to believe you were.

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No one spoke to him the next day. Not that he made it easy. He hid in his room, ate his breakfast in his room, stared at the window in his room. He only ever saw the two servants assigned specifically for him. They even brought up dinner for him - telling him that you told them to do that. You probably didn't even want to see his face. He lashed out at the others concubines; concubines you cared about much more than you did him.

It still left an uncomfortable burning in his chest. He made himself vulnerable. He showed too much emotion, not just in front of one or two people but everyone in the harem and yourself. He might as well as starting weeping in front of all them as well.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

He blinked, lifting his head from the pillow. He wondered who it was. Servants only knock out of politeness once before entering the room, other harem members just barge in at times. For a minutes he felt a tinge of fear thinking that it was you, but you wouldn't knock either - you had no reason to.

Scaramouche moved to open the door so only a sliver of light creeped through. The first thing he saw was the long red hair, pinned back and the red robe - It was Diluc.

"Can I come in?" He asked softly - like he was coaxing a wild animal. Scaramouche nodded and opened the door further to let him in.

Scaramouche bowed his head, his eyes lingering on the embroidered robe Diluc was wearing. His eyes trailed over the golden patchwork. There wasn't a single stand of hair out of place, everything was perfect. He was perfect.

Diluc's eyes glanced around the room but he said nothing. Scaramouche was expecting an admonishment, something about his bed being dirty or the left over plates on the bed but Diluc's eye's just skimmed right over them.

"I wasn't expecting company." It came out harsher than Scaramouche intended. He had never been alone with Diluc before; barely said a few words to him besides the first few days he was introduced into the harem. Diluc was either busy, bustling about the harem building or he was by your side.

"I suppose I should have sent a servant or someone to tell you beforehand. I'm sorry if this seems abrupt, I just wanted to… see how you are doing."

"You mean after my outburst." Scaramouche forced out, his voice tight.

Diluc let out a soft, sympathetic sigh. "Yes, I suppose so. Though, I wasn't thinking about it as an outburst."

Scaramouche didn't care. If Diluc was here - all he could assume was one thing.

"So you're here to deal a punishment?"

"A punishment?" Diluc tilted his head, confusion in his voice.

"I insulted the other concubines. I left before I was dismissed. It's your job isn't it? As the head consort - you deal out the punishments."

"You misunderstand." Diluc shook his head. "Can I sit?" He motioned towards a small couch that was placed in the room. Scaramouche nodded and Diluc sat down, his hands smoothing down his clothes.

"I am not here to give out a punishment. You are not the first to resort to insults or get angry at the others. It is natural that it happens when there are so many of us, and with such different personalities." Even as Diluc spoke, there was a small smile forming on his lips. He almost seems like he is reminiscing as he speaks of the harem members.

Scaramouche takes small steps until he is able to sit across from Diluc, keeping a good amount of distance between the two of them.

"So you decided to what? Come here out of the goodness of your heart." There was distain in his voice as he tried to figure out Diluc's true intentions. "Or are you here to defend the others? Defend y/n? If you are, you can leave. I don't want to hear it."

Diluc just gazed at him, no malice or annoyance in his eyes.

"I am not here to defend anyone. I am here because I wanted to check up on you. I know we haven't had a lot of chances to talk or even get to know each other - that's no ones fault - but, I would still like for you to be comfortable in the harem. Find some sort of enjoyment in the life you are now living."

Scaramouche stared at Diluc, scrutinizing him.

"Why are you all saying that?" He shook his head. "You, Itto, even Childe for fucks sake. All of you go around, stating that I should be happy and appreciate the life I am given." Scaramouche raised from his seat as he spoke. "But all of you - you guys have no idea about how awful this world truly is. How awful it can be. How things can change in a split second. How can you come in here and - and lecture me about life when you and all of the others are sheltered behind the whims of a cruel woman."

There was silence. Scaramouche words continued to float through both of their minds. If he wasn't getting punished, he definitely would now.

"You don't think we're not aware?" Diluc question is so simple and it sends a shiver down Scaramouche's body. There's no heat to his tone and Diluc doesn't appear to be angry. But the way he says it, the small almost pained smile that graces his face, it leaves Scaramouche stumbling over his words.

"I - I didn't mean - I mean…"

"It's okay." Diluc lifted a hand as if to placate him. Diluc's eyes shifted away, as if in thought, before looking back at Scaramouche. "I grew up in a family with three sisters. They were…. terrible. Terrible people. Terrible wives. I would see my brother in laws hiding bruising, hiding their pain. I would hear the comments my sisters directed towards their own husband - comments so degrading and humiliating that even as a young boy, I wanted to curl up and cry just from hearing their words. They would even let others say whatever they wanted. They never defended them. Never did nothing. In fact, sometimes my sisters would egg others on to say even worse."

Diluc remained poised as he talked but there was a shakiness in his tone that betrayed his feelings. Scaramouche's heart clenched in his chest - though, he is not sure why.

"For the first 18 years of my life I grew up around them. Grew up in a family that basically trained me to be a perfect husband, seeing me more as an investment to getting rich than an actual person." A sigh slipped past Diluc's lips. "What I am trying to say is: I know we have different experiences. Everyone in this harem has different experiences when it comes to our time before we entered the harem but try not to let it define how you are going to live the rest of your life. I can't tell you to trust me, or trust the others, or even trust Y/n, that’s a choice you have to decide whether you want to make or not."

Diluc stood up, his movements effortlessly beautiful. He stepped closer to Scaramouche but didn't touch him. "If you do decide to try, you can start with something small. I promise you that, as long it doesn't pose a threat to you or anyone in this palace, it will be fulfilled."

With a small bow of his head, Diluc moved passed him and towards the door. "I hope to see you at dinner tomorrow."

--------------------------------------------------------------

Start small. Start small. Scaramouche repeated those words inside of his head before letting out an annoyed, disgruntled sound.

His hands gripped at the strands of his hair, longer than he has ever been allowed to grow it out, as he paced around the room. The only light shining through is the moon and the stars - they are the only one's baring witness to his meltdown.

He doesn't want to. Actually, he does. He just doesn't want to admit it. Admitting it would mean allowing everything he pushed down into the small crevices inside of him would come spilling out. One at a time, slowly, over time until he can't stop it and he is overflowing with all the pain and loneliness that he thought he had moved on from.

He wants friends. He wants to be loved. He wants to be cared for. He wants to do things; explore, paint, learn to ride a horse. He wants it so bad that it makes him sick. He wants to be involved. He wants to believe that he is worth more than the shiny collar that used to be fastened around his neck - signifying that he is nothing more than a prize without a voice, without a say.

Not is, he tells himself. Was. He was nothing more than a prize. But, he doesn't have to be. Not if he decides to at least try what everyone else has been telling him.

But what if it goes wrong?

He can handle being dismissed and looked down on right now. He just stuffs the anger and despair down alongside everything else. But if he opens himself up; allows himself to possibly believe that maybe he can fit in and be accepted for himself, and it all turns to nothing… he isn't sure if he will be able to pick himself up again.

It is either do this one thing or don't do it. It's simple. The choice is simple. Pick one, ignore the other, that is all he has to do. It doesn't even have to be a lot of words, just go up, say what he needed to say then leave. If worse comes to worse, he could say the others encouraged him - that Diluc encouraged him. That would at least get you to think before you decided to lash out and punish him for interrupting you with nonsense.

"fuck, fuck, fuck," Scaramouche groaned as if he was in a lot of pain, a string of profanities leaving him, something he would never do in the presence of others.

--------------------------------------------------------------

He stared at the bronze door in front of him, his eyes narrowed. He pointedly ignored the guards who stood at each end of the halls. He also ignored the looks sent his way when he entered the hall that led to your room. He wonders what is going through their mind when they look at him.

That he is desperate. Pitiful.

Maybe that he finally degraded himself enough to be used.

He raised a hand, his hands forming a fist as he prepared to knock on the door. He stilled right before he brought his fist down. What is he doing? What if you're not even in there? What if you just send him away without allowing him to say anything?

Nope. He's not going to allow that. He is not going to allow you to not listen to him when he had worked up the courage to come all the way up to your room - a place he spend his entire time in the harem ignoring.

Instead of rapping his knuckles against the door, his hand grabbed the two handles and pushed the door open.

It wasn't what he was expecting.

Well, he wasn't sure what he was expecting but not this.

You're room looked every part like it belonged to royalty but there was something else that left it looking almost cozy. In between all the furnished gold, there was tea placed on the table (two cups) and a half-eaten cake. There was a pale-blue silk robe thrown over the couch which he knew belonged to Ayato. There was cushions thrown on the floor along with a blanket. Leaning on the floor against one of the walls he saw numerous painting - some finished, some not - but none of them look like the ones seen hanging up in the halls of the palace.

He couldn't continue to look around the room before one of your personal servant's drew his attention. The servant startled at Scaramouche's unplanned and borderline inappropriate entrance into the room - a resort building on their lips but they quickly clamp their mouth shut as a voice - your voice - echoes from another room.

"Its fine. Leave us."

For a moment he thought you were talking to him but just as quickly the servant bowed to him, though their face screwed up. Their lips pursed like they were looking at some annoying pest. Since you were still in the adjacent room, Scaramouche felt brave enough to send a glare at the servant.

Concubine beats servant - even servants who work directly under you.

He can't lie, it felt nice to do that.

He was left alone in the room now. His feet were frozen to the floor as his eyes lingered on the open doorway, fluorescent light spilling out and into your bedroom. You were in there. You knew he had entered your room and you haven't told him to get out. Not yet at least.

"Are you just going to stand there? Or did you barge into my room without a reason? Unless you finally decided to give up the whole 'Don't talk to me. Don't touch me.' facade. I thought you'd hold out longer."

He flushed as you spoke. Both from anger and embarrassment at being called out. His feet carried him towards the entrance of the doorway, a resort building on his lips.

"I have in no way come here to spend time with you or be... touched."

"But you do want to talk." It wasn't a question. You seemed to already know why he had stormed into your room and now...

His eyes widened.

He had walked right into your bathroom and there you were. You were in a huge tub, naked but the water and suds covered you from the neck down. You still had your eye's covered as well.

His brain failed him. He couldn't form any words and a redness blossomed on the tip of his ears.

"You're leering."

"I am - I am not." He sputtered.

"Wanna join me?"

"Absolutely not."

You shrugged. "Then you're going to just stand there?"

"I - no I am not. I just came to -"

"To what?"

Scaramouche pursed his lips. His eyes flicker around the room, looking everywhere but at you.

"Diluc," he figured this would be the safest way to start. "Diluc said I should come and talk to you. The others did as well."

He trailed off awkwardly, expecting you to say something to him but you didn't. Instead you just leaned back against the tub.

"I wasn't going to."

You just hum.

"I thought it was a ridiculous idea but I just want to make things clear. I - I am not here to be one of your bodies to use. Or for you to assume that I am going to do whatever you ask me just because you're... you. I've spent enough of my life being surrounded by women who try to dictate everything about my life from what I eat to what I wear.

"I have no desire to understand you or get close to you. But I will apologize for the way I acted towards the others - your concubines and consorts, I mean. They - they are not you and just because I don't like you doesn't mean I should have been so... callous with the others and lashed out during dinner."

He let out a shuddering breath, a weight lifting from his chest as he said everything he wanted to say. He didn't realize just how nervous he actually was before coming into your room. His body feels limp.

You, however, didn't say anything for a short while.

In the back of his mind, he bet you enjoyed seeing him shift uncomfortably, a small sheen of sweat forming on his skin.

"Very well then."

He blinked at you.

"So that's it then." He stared at you, his eyebrows furrowing.

"That's it. Why? Where you expecting something else."

"Well no. I just - you're not angry. I mean at me insulting you earlier and then coming in here and basically saying I'll never," He trailed off, not sure why he was trying to explain anything to you - not when you don't seem to care.

You laugh softly. The sound ringing in his ears. "I was angry but not at what you said about me. You think you're words were insulting? They were the truth. Besides I've been called much worse." You shrug. "What I was angry at was your blatant disregard and disrespect for the others. But it appears that you've changed your mind and realize that you shouldn't blame them just because of your hate for me so no reason to linger in the past."

"You almost sound like you actually care about them." This slipped out before he even realized what he said. Perhaps after what he said earlier, after confronting you, he finds it harder to hold his tongue.

Your lips tighten but other than that you don't say anything. You don't agree or disagree with his statement.

"So you don't love them? Even though all of them seem like they are deeply in love with you."

You don't answer and Scaramouche thinks he screwed up.

"Does love have to be the only reason I take care of those under me? Can't there be any other reason?"

"Selfishness? Control? Pride?" Scaramouche spoke without thinking.

"Maybe. Maybe not." Scaramouche swears he see's your lips twitch. "I may not love them but they're mine. I protect what's mine."

So, he was right about some things.

"So it is pride and ego."

"…"

You shift in the tub, your head falling back against the marble. His eyes flicker down to your throat, watching as a bead of water travels down your skin before snapping his eyes back to your face.

"Most of them are innocent to the truth of the world." You broke the silence after a minute.

"They know men are deemed lesser in this society but they haven't experiences the harshness that the world can offer. Not like you have or Venti or Diluc."

He doesn't see how this answers his previous questions.

"Do I love them? No. I don't believe I am capable of loving anything. But, I care about them. About what they can do - both for me and for themselves. I don't want them to whither away in a society that takes everything from them and become a shell of who they are and what they want to be in the future."

Your fingers drum against the marble of the tub, a small sound echoing in the bathroom.

"You see me as a horrible, cruel person and in some ways, I would say its true. I don't care about the lives of people outside of this palace - not even the people I am meant to. I don't feel anything when I take the lives of others - whether they are enemies or just people fighting because they have to. Sometimes, I even enjoy it. That alone would have everyone labeling me as cruel and even sadistic and I would agree. However, I protect them, ensure they have a good life because I need to. I need their support. But… the people in this palace - they are my people. I want to keep them happy, keep them sheltered, keep them protected; and I'll do whatever that takes in order to guarantee that."

Your head lifts from where it was resting against the tub. He can't see your eyes, the cloth still covering them, but he can feel your gaze penetrating him. The sudden pressure around him is becoming a constant whenever you decide to gaze at him.

"Now, that includes you too. You were a war prize originally, that much is true. You were a means to insult Ei but now you are one of my people. You may just be a concubine but I don't want you clinging to your old life and your old ways of thinking that you need to isolate yourself to survive."

He hated the way you see through him. This is the most you've talked to him - ever; and yet you read him without a problem. It leaves him feeling naked and bared in front of you, even with all of his clothes still on.

"Think what you want about me. I don't care. But the others, they are good and pure and kind. At least open yourself up to them. Each of them will take you in with open arms and love and care about you in ways you may have forgotten."

Scaramouche wasn't sure how to reply to all that. You weren't being vulnerable or even truly opening up to him but there was something in your words that left him shifting on his feet.

"And if I don't want to?" His voice came out shakier than he wanted. His eyes glued to his feet rather than looking at you.

"Then don't. Spend the rest of your time in the harem alone and miserable." You waved a hand like it meant nothing to you.

"I can make sure your fed and healthy but other than that everything else is you're choice."

#genshin au #consort au #empress au #genshin impact #genshin x reader #c:empress #genshin impact x reader #c:scaramouche #scaramouche x reader

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undiscovered-horizon · 5 months

Text

(tw for mentions of nudity)

Enjoying my work? You can leave me a tip on Ko-Fi | Have a request?

[After days of travelling, fighting and sleeping on rocks, a rest at a tavern is well-earned. Not feeling up to taste the nightlife with your friends, Halsin and you retire early. The evening turns into something heartfelt and domestic as you wash his hair and hum a song he's grown all too familiar with.]

The hot water against your skin is pleasant enough to elicit a chuckle of euphoria from you. It seems like a lifetime ago that you last had a warm bath. In some way, it was.

People downstairs are making good use of their money, time and energy - that you're sure of. Their music and laughter resound brightly but it's muffled by the walls and floors of the tavern, making it sound like the party is not mere meters below you but entire worlds away; almost like a memory of a banquet you're desperately trying to recall.

Despite not being used to the comforts of the city, Halsin was quick to accept your offer of shared bath. Perhaps it was the sharing part, more than the bath, that had convinced him. In any event, his broad back is resting against your chest, although judging by the minimal weight put on your body, you know he's holding back in fear of hurting you. Maybe one day you'll manage to get your point across that you would love to be smothered by the weight of his body.

As your thoughts wander further and further, you don't notice the soft melody escaping your lips. But Halsin does and the enigma of the tune he's grown to associate with you only makes him crack under the burning curiosity:

"You often hum this song to yourself. What is it?"

Only then do you finally hear your own voice. Have you really made a habit out of this? Suddenly flustered, your cheeks begin to burn. You've done nothing wrong and yet you feel embarrassed like a juvenile petty thief.

"It's something the washwomen back home used to sing while working," you explain awkwardly. In an attempt to steer away from the conversation, you reach for the cup next to the washtub. You did, after all, promise to wash his hair. "The river carried their voices, making the song audible pretty much everywhere."

"Would you mind singing it for me?" he asks, hesitance vibrant in his voice. Halsin must have noticed your sudden timidness and didn't want to push on but some part of him longed to hear the song so deeply ingrained in your mind.

You clear your throat. The lyrics first leave your mouth in a shaky voice, unsure whether your singing is pleasant enough for Halsin to want to actually hear it, but soon you let the comfort of the well-known melody take over your hesitant mind.

In my garden grows a rose Little Mania, go water my horse I can’t, I won’t, I’m afraid of the horse I fear the horse because I’m young

Halsin lets out a quiet sigh of relief as you pour the warm water over his hair. He smells of pine needles, sweat and mud but it's a good smell - it's the smell of someone who survived. And considering the strange course your life has taken these past few months, staying alive is the best thing that can happen.

In my garden grows rosemary Tell me, Mania, who’s the one that charmed you? Johnny’s eyes, Johnny’s eyes For they fell in love with my heart so much

The druid feels... odd. Not in the bad sense, of course. Perhaps "unfamiliar" would be a better descriptor. He's not used to having someone care for him in such an intimate, selfless way. After suffering so many losses in his life, Halsin doesn't quite know how to comfortably enjoy a triumph of sorts. Underneath the superficial pleasure and indulgement, lies a bottomless ocean of anxiety. Part of him expects this love to be short-lived like most affections in his long life.

His senses are overtaken by the dizzying aroma of lavender and rosemary as you carefully brush the oils through his hair.

In my garden grows a berry Tell me, little Mania, were you young? I was as young as a berry in the woods Like a berry in the woods, my love

Halsin doesn't often let himself dream and fantasise. It's better to expect nothing than to allow unrealistic scenarios to break his heart. However tonight, in the twilight of the chamber and with your soft breaths brushing against his neck, he lets his thoughts explore:

Years from now, if both of you manage to survive the upcoming series of misadventures, would this bathing be part of a routine? Dare he picture - after having put your children to sleep, would you regularly brush your fingers through his hair? Would you allow him to do the same for you? Just when he thought his heart could not swell more, the fantasy of a domestic life by your side made him ache. Something so sweet, something he's inhumanly desperate for, appears both out of reach and as the cure for his soul.

A thrilling shiver overtakes his body as he feels your nails gently scratch his scalp.

In my garden grows a lilly Tell me, little Mania, will you be mine? How do I know and tell you? How do I know if my mother will give me away?

Hot water is poured over his hair again. It feels just as good as it did before, if not better. The tension in his muscles dissipates, along with the soreness of day-long hikes over mountains and fields.

Then, Halsin feels your arms wrap around his midsection, your bare chest flush against his back. The hug is tight enough for him to be overly aware of the way your torso moves as you breathe calmly. Soft exhales brush against the warm skin of his shoulder. Perhaps it sounds a little cheesy, but to the druid, your smaller frame fits his bigger one perfectly.

Is this what being loved feels like?

"I know you're a man of virtue and honesty, my love," you murmur against his shoulder, "but can we lie a little and pretend we're still soiled and stay in here for a moment longer?"

His body shakes slightly as a chuckle rumbles in his chest. It still feels hardly believable that someone of your sort to seek his companionship. If he ever rejects your affections, he will have to be under a powerful curse.

"It brings my heart much joy to know you hold me in such high regard," he answers. One of his hands reaches for your palm, cradling it with almost fearful carefulness. Then, in an equally tender manner, Halsin places a chaste peck on the inside of your wrist. "Albeit, I am also faithful to nature."

You giggle when Halsin captures your lips in a passionate kiss. He's quick to turn around, water spilling out of the washtub, and trap you underneath him.

Gale's version right here!!

#halsin x reader #gn reader #halsin x you #halsin x tav #bg3 halsin #halsin bg3 #baldurs gate halsin #bg3 companions #halsin #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fanfic

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parvulous-writings · 2 months

Note

Could I request headcanons for Astarion, Gale, and Halsin react to his short gn s/o asking him to sit down after asking for his permission to kiss him on the lips?

Summary: As requested, Anon!

Warnings: Nothing - vague alusions to Astarion's initial aversion to intimacy, mention of nudity, but nothing huge.

Notes: These ones are a tad short again, but I didn't really want to oversaturate them! My requests are currently open! My pinned post (found here) contains both a list of characters I write for, and a masterlist! Original character list - please request for these too!

Astarion

"Sit down? Why? are you going to tease me, my sweet?"

He'll do it, if only to amuse you and play along with your little 'game' for the moment - especially in the presence of other people. Be prepared, though - you will hear no end of teasing lines whilst he's sitting himself down. You'd think that he'd actually be quiet, but... No. Of course he won't.

As you start to settle yourself onto his lap, his hands move to your hips, gently cradling them and keeping you steady. His thumbs massage gentle circles over your clothes - though he's not typically seen as a gentle man (or a gentleman), he likes to be that way with you when you're both in private. It's like a little game for him - he can play with you a little bit, flitting between this more gentle side of him and the usual, flirtatious side that he shows everyone else.

He absolutely relishes having you on his lap this way- it's a way that the pair of you can be more intimate with one another without having the 'requirement' to strip down to the nude. It makes him feel safe - though he's unlikely to ever actually tell you that out loud.

Gale

"Hm? Oh, of course!" He's more than happy to take a seat for you. In his mind, it's an opportunity to be closer to you, to be able to hold you properly. Touch is definitely one of his love languages - though one that he hasn't really been able to explore before this point, purely because of his own actions.

He likes to cradle your face with both of his hands when you lean in to kiss him. Rubbing his thumbs over your cheeks brings a calmness to him that he can only really find in books if he were to really seek it - a deep sense of satisfaction that settles in his chest, a warmth that only a close bond can make.

If you're somewhere where there isn't a chair for him to sit on, he's going to conjure one. As much as he loves you, he's not usually in the mood to mess up his knees every so often. They are quite delicate, despite his prowess in other areas.

Halsin

"Of course, my heart... Whatever you need." Halsin almost always leans, kneels or sits down for you - his height makes it pretty much a must in all situations. Being over 6 feet tall makes it very difficult for either of you to kiss one another without some sort of compromise, so it's an automatic thing for him. He does find it very sweet that you ask though - it reminds him that you think of him, as much as he thinks of you, when it comes to giving affection.

Halsin LOVES physical touch - like Gale, it's one of his love languages (though, with Halsin, almost EVERYTHING is a love language). A hand will be on your arm, and another on your waist when you kiss - and if he has the urge to pull you even closer to him, his hands automatically settle at the small of your back.

Another thing he loves to do is carry you - one of his favourite kinds of kisses to share with you (because there are many) is one where you're leaning over his shoulder as he carries you on his back - though a close second to that is you leaning down over him as he carries you on his shoulders. He also likes to press kisses to your fingers when he carries you like this - anything to get his lips on you.

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feirceangel · 4 months

Text

Imagine | Slice of Life (Luffy)

Imagine getting into a food fight and then cleaning up :)

Warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, bathing, non-sexual nudity, general good vibes.

Word Count: 1,056

(Not my gif)

"What's going on?" You ask with arms crossed.

"Nuf'n," comes the mumbled reply from Luffy. His face is stuffed full of the cake you had just finished icing, frosting plastered all over his face.

"Sure," you drawl, shaking your head.

Honestly, you excepted nothing less from Luffy. You know him better than anyone else. That's why you actually made two cakes and hid the other one where he can't get his grubby hands on it.

"You weren't supposed to eat that."

"But it was right here," he whines.

"No excuse."

He slowly pushes a piece of the cake across the table towards you.

"I saved you a piece."

You can't help but smile at that display of affection. Luffy is notorious for not sharing his food, but he always shares with you.

"Thanks, Luff," you grab a fork and sit down. "I'll forgive you this time."

He laughs, "You always forgive me, Y/n!"

You flick some cake from your fork and hit him directly on the forehead, "Only cause you're a dumbass."

He laughs harder at that, sending a splat of cake onto your cheek as he does.

Your laughter joins his as you stand and smush a larger piece of the frosted goodness into his face. He sits still for a minute before bolting to his feet and smashing his lips against yours.

Taken by surprise, you are quick to return the favour. The taste of cake on your tongue coupled with Luffy's lips is a heavenly sensation.

He breaks away with a huge grin, “I’m your dumbass, dumbass.”

You wipe some of the cake from his cheek, “We should go get washed up. You’re a mess.”

“So are you, shishishi,” he giggles.

“You two are making me sick!” Nami exclaims, having been silently judging you two for having a food fight as she sat in the corner and flipped through her ledger.

You and Luffy simultaneously stick out your tongues in her direction.

She rolls her eyes and goes back to ignoring you both. You know it’s all in good fun, Nami is your best friend after all. She just likes to tease you.

The weather has been excellent today, not a cloud in the sky. But you told Sanji you’d make dessert today, so that’s why you were in the kitchen. Luffy had snuck in after you went to tell Sanji that the cakes were done.

Now, you grab Luffy’s warm hand and drag him into the bathroom, serious about getting clean.

“Y/n, I don’t wanna,” he grumbles.

“But we’re filthy,” you reason. “Besides, I thought you didn’t mind bathing with me? Do you want me to go?”

You turn to leave, embarrassed at assuming he wanted to share a bath with you. Before you can walk out the door, hands grab your shoulders and spin you around.

Luffy pouts at you, having stretched his arms to stop you.

“Don’t leave! I didn’t mean that,” he pulls you close and you let him. “I like spending alone time with you.”

“Same here, Luff.”

You smile at him and he returns the grin. Turning the tap on, you fill the tub with hot water, adding sweet smelling suds.

Meanwhile, Luffy’s taken off his hat and shirt, tossing them on the floor. You grab a soft washcloth, getting the worst of the cake off of Luffy before focusing on yourself.

Stripping down, you and Luffy quickly step into the shower to rinse off before sinking down into the soapy water of the bath.

The tub has more than enough room for you both, but Luffy wraps his arms around you and draws you close to him. You lean back against him, smiling in his embrace.

It’s the tender moments like these that bring a swell of warmth to your heart.

Sure, you always know how much love you have for each other, but there’s something special in these quiet moments.

Normally, you’re both boisterous and loud. Making jokes and going on adventures. The last battle you went through had seriously drained your energy though. Luffy seems to realize that you need this downtime.

He slowly rubs circles into your arm with the washcloth, lazily washing you.

You let him, relaxing as he gentle cleanses you.

“Luffy, thank you.”

“What for?” He genuinely sounds confused. “I didn’t do anything?”

“Just, for being here and being you.”

“I’m always here for you, silly,” he pats your head.

“I know, I just want you to know I appreciate you.”

You take the cloth from his hand as you give him a small kiss.

“My turn,” you guide him in front of you, wanting to have a turn as the big spoon.

He obliged without question, resting his head on your bosom and gazing up into your eyes.

“I love you.”

“I love you too,” you kiss his forehead as you tenderly wash his chest.

Your hands cover each of his scars, replacing the traumatic memories of how he acquired them with your loving touch instead.

Water hot around you, you secure your arms around him, sighing contentedly into the crook of his neck.

He giggles and twists to kiss your lips again, “That tickles.”

“Whoops,” you chuckle back, chasing his lips when he moves away. “Get back here.”

He splashes you with water, effectively leaving you sputtering. You grin with fire in your eyes and return the onslaught of water tenfold.

The laughter must be extremely loud, cause a bang of the door interrupts your water fight.

“Don’t make a mess in there!”

You exchange a look with Luffy before guffawing loudly, “Too late, Nami!!”

She cusses you both out loudly as you laugh hysterically and continue your fight.

“We really should get out now though,” you say after it’s calmed down a bit.

He pouts and scrunches his face.

“Guess what?” You say as you start drawing the tub and grab a fluffy towel to dry off.

“What?”

You grin mischievously, “I made two cakes.”

His eyes light up brightly, “Really?!!”

By now, you’re already clothed and have your hand on the door handle.

“Yup, and it’s all mine!” You laugh as you race from the room, leaving Luffy behind as his legs get tangled in his shorts.

“Wait, Y/n-“ he yells after you.

Laughing, you race to the kitchen, Luffy close behind you.

#female reader #imagine #reader insert #one piece #one piece x reader #monkey d luffy x reader #luffy x reader #luffy op #one piece oneshots #mugiwara no luffy #straw hat luffy #xreader #op #op x reader #monkey d Luffy #fanfic

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din-miller · 10 months

Text

Yaihadla

Pairing: Din Djarin x F!Reader

Word count: 800+

Summary: Pregnancy is a wonderful, beautiful thing. Breast tenderness, not so much. It's a good thing you have a caring husband to take care of you

Warnings: fluff, pregnant reader, female reader, married couple, implications to sexy times, nonsexual nudity, title means pregnant in mando'a

You thought the worst part of being pregnant was the insecurity that came with the weight gain of growing another life inside you. It's not. Though you'd rather take that over this any day of the week. Din can chase away any insecurities you have but he can't chase away the tenderness of your breasts.

Though Din is nothing but persistent and would gladly try to kiss away the pain.

Normally you'd indulge him in his 'you can make anything better with a few kisses' method of fixing every problem, but right now the brushing of your nightshirt against your hardened nipples is making you want to scream bloody murder. You shift in the co-pilot's seat, leaning forward a tad so your shirt falls from your skin without causing a scene.

"Is something wrong?"

You glance up at your husband, meeting the back of his helmet. You blush at being caught. While you might be a good bounty hunter you can never sneak things past Din. You straighten up, toying with the hem of your shirt as you ask, "Would you mind if I take my shirt off?"

Your husband's grip on the Razor Crest's throttle slips at your words, making the ship jerk to the side. His head snaps your way and he chokes out; "I'm sorry?"

"My breasts are sore," You explain and slowly lift up the bottom of your shirt, giving him a clear view of your panties and a sliver of your rounded stomach. When all he does is stare in your direction, you repeat yourself, "Would you mind if I take my shirt off?"

"Would I mind…" Din trails off in disbelief, words stumbling over each other as he continues, "No, I-I have no, um, no complaints here. Whatever makes you feel comfortable, mesh'la."

You can't see his expression but you know his eyes are blown wide – half from shock, half from rapidly growing lust – and his mouth parted, tongue unconsciously wetting his lips.

"I think I'll forgo wearing a shirt to bed tonight too. The material is irritating my breasts." You sigh, shifting in discomfort again. You know your husband wouldn't mind in the slightest if you fully strip naked and strut around the ship.

If you weren't so sore you might have actually done so. Unfortunately all you can manage is the lamest strip tease in history as you awkwardly tug your shirt over your head, wincing when the fabric brushes over your nipples.

Din's chair is spinning towards you before you can even blink, his arms resting on his knees as he leans forward. You let a cocky grin slip across your features, throwing your shirt at his gawking helmet. He catches it and tosses it aside without any remorse. His helmet follows, then his shirt is next to add to the growing pile.

"Ner cyar’ika, your beauty is beyond words," He pushes himself from his chair, kneeling between your parted legs. One hand freely dances along the stretched skin of your belly, and the other paws at the side of your thigh, "The shape of you with my ad’ika brings me to my knees time and time again."

You have to clench your jaw because now is not the time for hormones to trigger tears. If you start crying now, having said to Din that you're sore, he'll start fretting over you.

His eyes drift from your face to lazily trace the curves of your swollen breasts. Transparent lust swallows his pupils and threatens to ignite a fire inside you.

You know this isn't going to go anywhere tonight. Even if your hormones change and you want to jump his bones until you're boneless and satisfied; you've already expressed your discomfort and Din's too much of a good man to give in to his own burning desires knowing it would end up with you in more pain.

Din's hand comes to lightly trail a path following his greedy eyes, avoiding touching your sensitive nipples as they drag across the skin of your breasts, "They've gotten bigger, ner kar'ta."

You glance down at them too, "Have they?"

He hums and gently cups both of them, "Mmm, heavier too. When you're not feeling sore I'm going to kiss the pain away. For now how about we turn in for the night? I'll even sleep up here if it's more comfortable for you."

"You know the baby doesn't like when you're not in bed with us," You gesture for him to help you up, "We don't sleep well unless you're holding us. Protecting us."

Din pulls you up and spins you around so your back is pressed against his chest. His left hand finds yours and brings them both to lay over your bump. His other hand trails up your thigh until it finds his favourite prize. He gives the elastic band of your panties a snap, mouth hot against the skin of your neck as he smirks, "These coming off too?"

#din djarin x reader #the mandalorian #din djarin #married couple | the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x female reader #mandalorian fic #justice joy writes #pregnant reader #tw: implications to sexy times

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girls-alias · 4 months

Text

Tattoo - Dean Winchester

Title: Tattoo - Dean Winchester Words: 2,305 Relations: Dean Winchester X reader. TW: Strong language, slight nudity, sexual hinting.

[Why does the right gif look like it's reacting to the first 😂]

I sighed slamming the anti-possession tattoo design on the artist's table. "This is what I want," I explained simply. The artist looked it over once, a quick glance before scoffing and shaking his head. I sucked my teeth, annoyed instantly by his reaction.

"I'm not doing that, it's demon shit," He slid the design off the table, it falling slowly onto the floor. I glared at him knowing for a fact I would not be the one to pick that up.

"It's actually the opposite it's to protect me from demon shit. So, either pick up the design and get started or pick up the design and wish me a great day," I instructed, my tone forceful as I rested my hands on the table between us. He gave me his full attention. "Either way, you're picking it up," I added. He scoffed looking at me like I was stupid.

"Bitch, if you-" He didn't have time to finish his sentence as I slammed his head into the table. He jumped backwards, holding his busted nose. Looking at me terrified. I was angry beyond reproach.

"Call me a bitch again and I'll pull your teeth out so the next time you say it, it's sounds like your saying bench," I threatened. "Get up. Walk around this table. Pick it up." I said simply, emphasising my anger as I maintained eye contact. He hesitated to get up, cowering as he got closer to me. I stared him down even though he was taller than me, he bent down, using one knee to get low as he grabbed the design. He went to stand but I grabbed the shoulder of his shirt, stopping him from standing but looking up at me scared. I smirked. "Wasn't so hard, was it?" I asked menacingly with a smirk. He shook his head slowly like he was afraid to upset me. I smirked wider. "Now wish me a great day," I instructed, looking at him expectantly.

"I hope you have a really great day, sorry I couldn't help," He quickly spoke. I smiled politely, innocently.

"Thanks, you too," I added cheerfully before grabbing my design and walking out.

I had gone to 5 different tattoo studios, all getting denied and I was growing impatient and reckless. My anger rose before a plan formed in my mind. I smirked knowing it was genius.

Dean's POV:

Y/N had been gone all day. I know she was getting her tattoo but it shouldn't be this long. She's been gone since I woke up till now, I rechecked my watch growing anxious. I should have gone with her. I know she didn't want me to because 'she's an independent woman who doesn't need a man to hold her hand' or at least that's what she tells me every time I suggest protection on a hunt or company for certain things. She is the most stubborn woman I know, and I've met plenty of stubborn women. She only decided to stay at the bunker with us for a few weeks because she wanted a break from motels.

"Will you stop tapping your foot?" Sam asked annoyed as he looked up from his book.

"Where is she? She should have been back hours ago," I rambled, anxiously checking my watch again. 9PM. Where is she? I wonder if she was snatched? Is she okay?

"Dean, will you calm down? She's probably just gotten distracted." He tried but I scoffed.

"What if she's been abducted and we're just sat here?" I asked but Sam laughed, holding his finger in the book to keep his place as he lowered it to give me his full attention.

"We are talking about the same Y/N, right? She's been abducted, starved for months, tortured and still escaped. We did nothing to help, she just called us for a ride like nothing happened," He explained but I rolled my eyes.

"Yeah, but that was before she moved in," I tried but Sam looked at me confused.

"She hasn't moved it, she wanted a break and came here. You must be head over heels in love if you think she's staying," He chuckled, going back to his book but noticing my silence. I wanted to deny it but my mouth didn't work. He looked up from the book, studying me a second before slamming the book down not caring about keeping the page anymore. "You're in love with Y/N?!" He practically shouted but I rolled my eyes, getting up to leave. He didn't take the hint that I was leaving because of him so followed me. "I knew you wanted to fuck her but I didn't realise you were in love," He continued. I groaned, walking down the hall aimlessly.

"I'm not in love with her," I tried but even I could tell my tone showed how bad I was lying.

"You are, oh my God. You have to tell her before she leaves." He cheered but I rolled my eyes. I stopped in my tracks, facing him looking annoyed.

"She tells us every day that she doesn't need a man to hold her hand, she'd laugh in my face if I told her," I sighed, finally giving in because this topic has been clouding my judgment for months. Ever since she wore a dress to a hunt and still looked badass I knew I wanted more than sex, when Lucifer himself threatened her and she practically scared him off I knew it was love. Ever since I have grown to love her more, even small things I wouldn't normally notice became my fixation. Like how she mouths the words when she reads slightly or bites down on her nail when she's thinking. All of it made me fall deeper in love with her. Yet she shows no interest in me.

"She doesn't need a man to hold her hand but she might want one," Sam tried but I scoffed.

"We've known her for over a year, I've never once seen her hint at even sex never mind a relationship," I explained. Sam went to dismiss my comment but stopped to look at me confused. He heard it too. I turned around, there's something here. It sounded like something metal clinking against marble. Confused I walked down the hall. Maybe she's back, hopefully, she didn't hear our conversation.

I approached Y/N's door as Sam stood close behind me, I pushed the door open. I froze as I noticed Y/N on her knees in front of the fire shirtless. She had a maroon bra on and hadn't noticed us. I watched mesmerised and perplexed by what she was doing. My jaw dropped as she pulled an iron stake from the fire and pressed it to her chest over her heart. I wanted to rush in and stop her but I was stunned as rather than scream she dropped her head back and groaned. It was borderline pornographic and would definitely infect my mind many times in the future. Sam grabbed my shoulder but didn't move, it pulled me back to reality, I glanced at him seeing his jaw drop open and concern written all over his face. I looked back at her, eyes wide as she moaned again, pushing the stake a little harder before pulling it away. My mouth dried as I watched the scene.

"I love you," She looked up at us, completely unfazed. You wouldn't think she branded herself just seconds before. She looked at me confused and it hit me that I said it out loud. She put the stake down with a smile, chuckling softly before she stood up, not bothered by her shirtless figure as she faced me. I knew Sam would be looking away but my eyes wouldn't let me. My God!

"Good to know," She said slightly confused. I sighed realising she probably thinks I'm a creep. I mean, I am. She's standing shirtless, in a maroon bra but brand new burn above her heart I should be concerned about but I can't take my eyes off her chest. My God. I've never been a tits man but for her, I'm an everything man.

"What did you do?" Sam asked. I finally pulled my eyes away as I glanced at him, he turned away to look up the hall. He has more willpower than I do.

"No one would give me the tattoo so I branded myself," She explained as if it was no big deal. I looked at her concerned, slightly worried and turned on. I fall deeper in love.

"Why wouldn't you just go somewhere else?" Sam asked but she rolled her eyes and walked away to grab a cardigan, tying it around herself loosely so the fabric didn't touch her burn but covered herself. I frowned slightly. I finally looked at the burn. I rushed forward moving the cardigan slowly to see it fully.

"What the fuck, you actually did it," I exclaimed as I looked at the red skin surrounding the black burn. A perfect print of the anti-possession tattoo that matched Sam and I's.

"Well, yeah," She chuckled as if it were obvious. We saw her do it, I wouldn't doubt she would have if she'd told me beforehand but anyone else would be too scared. Not Y/N, not perfect Y/N. Sam followed me in, looking at it closely. We shared a look before I stepped back. She laughed as she shrugged. "It's not a big deal," She shrugged moving away to grab her glass from the top of the drawers. I narrowed my eyes at her.

"Did it not hurt?" I asked, my concern showing in my tone. She chuckled.

"I've felt worse," She shrugged taking a sip of her drink. God, I really do love her.

"I'm going to get the first aid kit. No more branding while I'm gone," Sam warned but she chuckled as he walked out.

"Aw, but I had a tramp stamp made too," She joked but looked at me with an innocent smile. "I actually have another one if you want to do it for me?" She asked but I looked at her like she was crazy. She rolled her eyes, moving to kneel in front of the fire again.

"What? No!" I exclaimed, grabbing her shoulder to try and move her away.

"Ow," She exclaimed, I quickly pulled my hands away, thinking I pressed on her burn. I knew I fell for her trick when she quickly grabbed another stake that was heating in the fire, pulled the tie on her cardigan and pushed it into her skin above her right hip. I gasped, readying for her to scream but she groaned again. Standing above her and looking down on the scene only made it hotter. My God. I turned away knowing I would soon be erect if I didn't try to clear my mind.

"What are you doing?" Sam exclaimed from the door, quickly rushing in, he grabbed the stake, burning his hand slightly as he dropped it to the floor. She rolled her eyes with a theatrical groan.

"You're so boring, Dean didn't mind," She played but I quickly protested.

"I tried to stop her," I held my hands up in defence as Sam looked at me shocked. Sam shook his head, turning his eyes to the first aid kit he brought in with him. Y/N seemed to smirk.

"I can patch myself up," She groaned but Sam shook his head, avoiding looking at her.

"No, I'm putting my foot down." He insisted. I watched, amazed he stood up to her. I wouldn't even do that even if I had a death wish.

"You can't even look at me," She chuckled. Sam looked her in the eyes for a second before looking away not wanting to gawk at her. She laughed, sitting back so she could move her legs from under her.

"I'll do it," I chimed in. I regret it instantly. She looked at me, her eyebrows showing she was shocked but her clenched jaw and eyes told me she wasn't happy. I shouldn't have said anything, she'll kill me and I'd thank her while she did it. She dominates me with just eye contact how am I going to put my foot down to her?

I took Sam's place in front of her, I avoided her eyes as I knew if I looked into them I would lose the nerve. Sam walked out as she took the cardigan off. I used all my focus to look at the branding and not her boobs. I saw her smirking in my peripheral vision.

"So, you love me?" She asked, teasing in her tone. I gulped. I need to grow a backbone, she has too much control over me. Now that I'm putting my foot down to her, it's the perfect time.

"So what if I do?" I asked, focusing on her anti-possession brand as I began cleaning it. She didn't even flinch when the alcohol touched her burns, she just moaned. I felt my blood rushing to where I didn't want it. I focused on my actions hoping I had enough control to get through this.

"I just think that's a weird thing to say after watching someone brand themself," She commented with a slight shrug. I glanced at her lips as she bit down. My breath hitched, and I fixed my eyes on the brand.

"Maybe that's my kink," I tempted but she smirked.

"It is now," She smirked. I gulped, finally looking at her face to see she was looking flirtatious. A look I had never seen her make before. I smirked.

"To rights," I confirmed. She smiled as she rested back on her hands letting me clean her without argument. This was the best thing that could have happened!!!!

Masterlist

#fanfiction #fanfic #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester #dean winchester fanfiction #dean x reader #dean winchester smut #dean #dean winchester x reader

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serosblunt · 8 months

Text

BakuSquad Boys: Showering with Them (Pt. 1)

BakuSquad x (Gender-neutral) reader

Characters: Sero & Denki

Warnings: None really; mentions of shaving, nudity, hints at spicier things.

Description: What I imagine showering with these two would be like, from how often they shower to skincare routines and fun little quirks they have. Kirishima and Bakugo coming soon in part 2 :)

—————

He loves to bathe with you, no matter how it’s done. Bath vs. shower, quick or not, he doesn’t care. Sero’s convinced it’s one of the most intimate things in the world. Especially when he shaves your legs for you.

He gets it, sometimes the feeling of hair is overwhelming, but you’re too tired to be able to shave yourself, and honestly, you can’t help but fall in love with the way he plants kisses up your calves as he goes.

Trust me when I tell you ladies, gents and everyone in between, this man is the KING of shaving for you. Body part is irrelevant, he’s got it. Just put your leg up on his, babe, and you’re good to go. And if waxing is more your style, you’re in luck! Your charming boyfriend comes with a handsome smile and an unlimited supply of tape- a handy substitute for wax strips.

Hanta spent hours practicing on patches of his own hair so as to perfect his technique before he dared risk damaging your beautiful skin.

You’re usually both nightly shower-ers, unless Hanta’s weekly night shift interferes, which he hates more than anything. Showering alone in those boxy agency stalls could go suck ass as far as he was concerned. He lives for quiet nights with you. This is where the routine usually begins.

An intimate dinner, low music playing in the background to fill the silence, or burning conversation that just couldn’t wait to be heard. But normally this is saved for the bathroom, this is where you both really begin to wind down for the night.

Celebrating your vulnerability by talking about your days, and gently massaging the stress out of aching muscles; kissing away annoyances to replace them with a new, more comfortable warmth.

The tape-hero’s arms wrap around you from behind as you do your skincare in the mirror. He places gentle kisses to your neck as he patiently waits his turn. There’s never a burden behind these touches, nothing that says you have to go further. Nevertheless, you appreciate the love he puts into each caress of your skin, despite already knowing the outcome of the night will be an early bed time to combat Hanta’s outrageous patrol schedule, and you happily curled up in your hero’s chest. Once Sero does get his turn in front of the mirror, his routine is quite simple.

Having already brushed his teeth to keep that signature smile shining, he uses a basic facial cleanser - one you got him onto. After that, there’s another mystery product that he can never pronounce, but the serum has helped his childhood acne scars to no end. Slap on a bit of moisturiser and he’s done. Simple as that.

He never had a skincare routine before he met you, so these steps feel like quite a milestone achievement to him. Needless to say, he ALWAYS sticks to his routine, and he’s quick to pull you up and help you with yours if you happen to be slacking a little that day.

Never in the history of the world, has a man gone more feral for someone’s body than Denki does for yours. You like to joke that he was actually born with some sort of bloodhound quirk crossed with his electricity. Only your loving boyfriend doesn’t smell blood, oh no. He has a wicked sixth sense about when you are actually, or are planning to get naked; and he refuses to be absent for that particular event.

He normally showers every second day, most of the time that happens to be at the agency, out of convenience. It serves as a good visual reminder to him. He’s not a barbarian though, if he needs a shower, he’ll take one. Besides, it’s not like his routine is exactly consistent. If you’re naked too…well, who could resist?

However, on the odd occasion when you are showering and he doesn’t feel like joining you, he’s not just going to leave the bathroom. No, no, that little sneak will be watching the entire time.

The two of you can still carry on with a conversation for the most part, but the second you stretch your arms up to wash your hair, he’s a goner.

Droolin’ fool type goner.

Kaminari considers it his duty to moisturise your body. He especially admires how smooth your skin is after you’ve exfoliated, but he thinks you’re smokin’ either way. He’s just honoured that you even let him touch you like that. It’s arguably his favourite part of the day, feeling your velvety skin gliding beneath his palms. And it’s not like you dont get anything out of the experience either ;)

Hear me out, Denki LOVES doing skincare with you. Any excuse he has to get close to you is a win in his mind.

To the blond, the feeling of your hands on his face are equally as soothing as the water itself. Your apartment doesn’t have any of those fancy water filters on the faucets, thus, Denki finds showers particularly calming after a long day. Tap water is a good conductor of electricity, and is often useful in helping your sparking boyfriend come back to himself after he’s overused his quirk, or just had a bit of a rough mission.

Sometimes, he can quite literally feel his quirk humming through his skin as it recharges itself, occasionally leaving tiny Lichtenberg figures down his arms.

If you ever do a facemask on yourself without telling your boyfriend, he actually considers it a personal offence. His motto when it comes to skincare is, whatever goes on your skin, goes on his.

Cleansers, serums, balms, creams, masks, the whole nine yards. Denki has never complained once because he truly loves every minute of it. To him, it feels like you guys are secretly matching in an odd way. As he inhales the lingering scent of the new moisturiser you had wanted to try the night before, he’s reminded of all the laughs you’ve had in your tiny apartment ensuite.

Like when he tried to kiss you through the ill-fitting lip sections of a sheet mask, before you had pulled away, lightly swatting his shoulder and warning him about ingesting the serum. The subtle feeling of being close to you provides memories he carries with him everywhere throughout his day, like a badge of honour.

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writing-for-life · 9 days

Text

Right, okay, I’ve thought long and hard whether to write this:

A squick (even a strong one) is not the same as a trigger.

Emotional discomfort, even emotional discomfort that leads to low-level physical symptoms like e.g. mild nausea, is not trauma. Unfortunately, TikTok pop psych has done nothing to help people understand the difference, because the trend to perceive (even strong) emotional discomfort as equivalent to a trauma response is worrying and neither helps people with nor without PTSD. I don’t wish it on anyone to actually find out the difference if they haven’t yet (disclaimer, since this is unfortunately necessary these days because everything gets misconstrued: I am not talking about individual experiences, because only you can know about those. I’m talking about wider trends in an often young audience with not enough background info to be able to tell apart sound medical/psychological info and viral BS created by “influencers” for some kind of personal gain).

What people in the current fandom spat want to have tagged as “triggers” are overwhelmingly squicks. And we’re probably all guilty of quickly saying “that triggered me”, myself included (and I’m a licensed psychotherapist, shame on me). It has become somewhat of a shorthand for “extremely annoyed or grossed out”. But when it gets used in the context of tagging, it’s good to remember that no one owes us a tag list the length of our arm just because we don’t like certain things. Even if we strongly dislike them.

And even on the occasion someone else’s yuck or yum is an actual trigger for us, it is impossible to cover for every possible trigger, because in theory, EVERYTHING has the possibility to trigger someone somewhere.

E.g., a certain smell in a supermarket holds the rare possibility of triggering someone, but do you see disclaimers at the supermarket door that say, “May smell of 484 different things, which are in detail [list of 484 things] and might be different tomorrow. Plus, we might have a customer today who smells of that perfume that brings up your triggering childhood memories. Or maybe we won’t, but just on the odd chance we do, we thought we’d rather cover it”.

There might be one person with a very specific trigger that does literally nothing to the vast majority of people. Do we expect everyone on Tumblr to tag for “eyebrows” or “white T-Shirt” because of that? How about that person just puts “eyebrows” or “white T-Shirt” in their content filter instead?

Do we really suggest to put that type of responsibility on creators? More importantly: Who are we protecting that way? All we do is put people into bubble wrap and shift responsibility for our mental wellbeing away from ourselves to others.

We are trying to tell other people what to do for our own comfort. That’s controlling.

If we’re squicked out by something, there is a simple solution: we can stop looking or reading. We can use content (not tag) filters. In the worst case, we can block. We don’t have to put that type of responsibility for our personal sensitivities on creators (or people who reblog, for that matter).

We can tag for certain things as a courtesy, I’m all for it. I love being able to filter out stuff I’m not into, and I sometimes wish people would tag better or not tag a certain way (getting ship tags for a ship you’re not into slapped on your character-metas is annoying 🤣). But I don’t die, neither does it cause me unbearable distress, if I see cows where I don’t expect them. Scroll past or block. And if I’m worried about mature topics like nudity or violence: Tumblr has a community label for mature themes you can (and in my view should) use if in doubt. Funnily enough, many people don’t do that though—maybe because they worry about reach?

Of course we should include content warnings where they are due, no one says we shouldn’t. It’s also fair if a creator doesn’t wish to do that beyond general warnings (no specifics) though because they might give away, say, major plot points that way. In that case, general disclaimers like “contains depictions of violence”, or whatever it might be individually, are a good idea. And if that’s not specific enough for us despite knowing that “violence” in general might also contain our personal trigger, we might need to make the decision not to read it to stay safe, but we shouldn’t have a go at the writer for not tagging very specific things that might be considered spoilers.

Long story short: If we assume people are “triggered” by werewolves with vulvas or non-human characters, it might be worth thinking about whether we’re just talking about squicks that very much fall into the category of “personal responsibility”. And there are plenty solutions to that at our end—we don’t need to put that on creators…

#fandom problems #fandom entitlement #fandom stuff #squicks #vs #triggers #tagging #being grossed out or strongly disliking is uncomfortable #but it’s not the same as being triggered

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azaleaniath · 1 year

Note

lo’ak x reader request!

do you think you can do a lo’ak x reader smut like the “little secret” one you did with aonung?

reader liking to teasingly insult/hit lo’ak but then noticing he got a little.. excited yk? 😭, maybe with a bit of hair pulling too🫢🤭 (lo’aks hair)

anyways i hope all is well! love your work <3

~ LOAK X FEM! OMATICAYA! READER ~

Our game

includes: nudity, sex, kinda roleplay?, spicy content, degradation, hair pulling, explicit smut, punching, orgasm, teasing, kinks, friends with benefits ig, dominance play, aged up for legal reasons

NSFW, MINORS DNI, 18+ | 1.6k words

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Come on, skxawng~" you laughed, pinching his upper arm, "Or are you scared you might lose?"

Lo'ak simply grunted, trying to ignore you as you circled him, pushing both your hands against his chest. He noticed the glimmer in your eyes as you tried to tease him. That wide grin on your face did not lessen as he slapped your hands away and turned his back to you.

"I'm just not in the mood, y/n."

"You're scared aren't you? Now that we're older, you can't beat me that easily anymore and you know it~"

It had started out as a game. Nothing more than innocent childs play where you chased each other. It turned into a personal contest about strength when you were teenagers and ended up being all about dominance. This game had always been great for just letting out anger too. Fists were flying while you insulted each other, relieving stress consentually. But lately, Lo'ak did not want to play with you anymore.

"Can't you piss off?" he growled as his eyes rolled back, still tense from your actions.

"Having a bad day? What happened this time, your father called you a disappointment again?" you smirked, flashing your teeth. Once more you re-engaged and pulled his queue. With wide eyes Lo'ak turned back to you and tried to grab your wrists, but you quickly pulled back.

"Seriously, what's your problem?!" His voice was louder this time. It didn't keep you from bothering him some more, punching against his chest.

"Damn, you fell out of your hammock this morning? Come on, try to hit me! You're getting so slow, no wonder your the family's disappointment~"

The anger boiled up deep inside of him, but so did something else. This had to stop now, he decided, before it would escalate.

"Fuck off, bitch!" he spat, trying to push you away but in response you only balled your fists, punching them into his stomach, trying to force him onto the ground.

"That means I win? Lo'ak the loser, the family's disappointment, sound fitting for a pussy like you~"

That was the last bit that was needed to make him explode. In no time the man forcefully packed your wrists until you squealed and pushed you onto the ground, kneeling over you. He held your hands next to your head, teeth clenched as you tried to free yourself.

"Is that what you wanted?! Will you leave me alone now you little attention whore?!"

You bucked underneath him and mewled in frustration as his grip only tightened. Something hard pressed against your abdomen so you looked down on yourself. As your eyes found the source of the pressure they widened in surprise. "I'm not the one having a boner right now!"

Lo'ak couldn't help but blush as you mentioned his bulge beneath the bit of fabric that covered him. He pursed his lips, tail whipping loudly through the air.

"Wait, does that actually turn you on when I pick on you?" Somehow, it felt like an even greater victory than usual. Loak only growled as your surprised face turned back into a smirk. His blush intensified as you spoke.

"It does turn you on. You little slut..." you snickered, finding yourself growing more curious about his erection. His deadly gaze was still locked with your eyes. He couldn't look away now. It would definitely only underline your statements of him being a loser.

"Shut up bitch! I told you to leave me alone but you really just can't listen can you?!" he hissed, baring his fangs.

Seeing him so turned on was... fun. Exciting almost.

You felt your own core pulsing and throbbing the more you stared at his cock which only seemed to grow.

"You think you won, pussy?" you mumbled, ripping yourself from his grip, tossing him over and switching places with the male so you sat on top of him as he wasn't paying full attention.

Lo'aks breath hitched as you started out grinding your hips against his.

"Say that you're a fucking disappointment, loser."

"Never." he growled in embarrassment, but his face got only hotter as your hands traveled down his body. As much as he wanted to leave, he couldn't. There was no way he would let you win, no matter how much he had to suffer. His cock only stiffened even more as his nose filled with the scent of your arousal as you kept grinding on his shaft through your clothes.

"Hmm, we'll see about that, halfblood. On another thought, maybe you're more human than na'vi... they break so easily."

Lo'aks nails dug into your thighs while you moved up and down on him, not responding. Yet he couldn't suppress a few low whimpers which he tried to cover with some coughs.

"Got something stuck in your big mouth?" you teased, yanking at his hair to which he only mewled some more. His cock twitched as you pulled his braids harshly, not breaking the intense eye contact.

"Ooh, you like that too? You just really have to get used like the needy slut you are, huh?"

He couldn't help but whine at your words, catching himself humping against your clothed core. "Fuck you..."

"Want me to touch your needy cock? Make you cum like a little whore?" You snickered playfully.

"As if a bitch like you could make me cum!"

His reversed psychology made you narrow your eyes. He did not want to beg you, but he needed you to make him cum. He needed your touch, so he tried to challenge you.

The challenge was accepted.

As soon as you eagerly tore both of your loincloths off, you seated yourself on his curved cock and coated him with your own juices. The drops of precum at his tip also made it easier to slide his length back and forth between your sticky folds. Both of you tried to be as unimpressed as possible by each other, even more when his head threatened to enter you.

"I'll make you cum so hard you'll be begging for more." you grinned, so he simply pushed into your wet pussy with one swift motion, trying not to moan. "Try it, slut."

You clenched your jaw as he stretched you open, still giving your best not to let him win.

"I thought you'd be bigger."

"I thought you'd be tighter."

You dropped yourself onto his cock entirely, causing him to gasp in surprise.

"Go ask your brother why~"

His eyes widened in shock, just like his lips. Even if he knew you were lying, or at least he was hoping, it made him mad and somewhat jealous. You belonged him.

"He fucks me so much better than you, he stretches me so damn wide. Your brother is a fucking dream, you're just a disappointment."

Lo'ak furrowed his brows and bucked his hips up harshly to put you in your place and you couldn't help but moan. "You're bluffing."

Of course this was only to tease him. He filled your wet cunt pretty well, his thick shaft stimulated every inch of your clenching walls just perfectly.

"Are you sure?"

You rolled your hips against his pelvis every time you lowered yourself on his cock until he unconsciously kept on moaning and panting but so did you. The slapping noises filled the forest around you. Knowing that at any moment someone could walk up on you bounching up and down his hard cock only made this new part of your game more exciting.

Lo'ak kept on hitting your cervix just right as he pounded into you, hoping to win the game by making you cum first. In order to do the same you got yourself a good grip on his braids, tearing them down backwards to his shoulders. He couldn't help but continue to moan as your soaked pussy squeezed his thick shaft, leaving you both shaking ever so slightly.

You scratched over the back of his neck as you felt your orgasm nearing so you quickly rose off of him and got your hands onto his pulsing cock instead.

"Who's afraid to lose now, huh?!" he panted before biting down on his lip. He quickly pushed you onto your back, kneeling between your shaky legs. You couldn't help but yelp as he did so, quickly reaching out to his manhood before he was able to enter you again, pumping up and down his hard, twitching cock.

He tried to protest but he couldn't hold back much longer. His plump balls tightened as you worked your hand up and down and before he could even get his hands on you he threw his head back and spilled his semen onto your entire body, moaning your name out like a prayer even if he thought it to be unfair.

A victorious smirk appeared on your lewd face before he collapsed on top of you in defeat.

"That was not fair! You wanted to-"

"I got what I wanted. I won, skxawng. You're a loser."

You quickly gathered yourself and your clothes, leaving him behind panting.

"Wait, y/n! You little shit, come back!" He yelled after you as you stumbled out of his sight on unstable legs giggling before he could come after you for revenge.

And he swore by eywa, he was going to do that.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: alright here goes my first Lo'ak work! I hope it turned out nicely, I'm way too tired rn to actually think ngl but yeah, lemme know what you think! Thanks for the request 💙

🏷️-list: @luvlykrispy @zatarias-pandora @vviolaswrld @yeosxxx @lilgurlbeoncrack @philiasoul @itszzmoon @simp4ff @itsnotme02 @et-j-art @lovekeeho @mayhemories @cavvedinn

#loak smut #lo'ak smut #lo'ak x reader #lo'ak #loak x reader #lo'ak x y/n #avatar loak #loak imagine #lo'ak imagine #avatar x reader #avatar smut #lo'ak te suli tsyeyk'itan #Lo'ak te suli x reader #Lo'ak x Na'vi reader

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cannedpickledpeaches · 5 days

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Insert Your Name (9)

Mafia!Jade Leech x Mafia!Reader

Link to part one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, ten!

Notes and TW: I apologize if this chapter is a bit messy, but answers are coming soon! This series will have mentions of blood, violence, crime (kidnapping, attempted assassination, extortion), and harassment, as one might expect from a mafia AU. Please enjoy!

Tags: @guava-writes @itszzmoon @twstsandturns @myteacupisempty @rou-luxe @chikitasmol @night-shadowblood-writes2 @haveneulalie

Your phone rings in your pocket. A little flustered, you pat your pockets for your phone with your free hand. Annoyance flashes in Jade’s eyes as he prepares to let go of your hand, but you curl your fingers in his grasp and hold onto him while you fish up your phone. His body stiffens.

“Oh, it’s Floyd.” The call cuts off just as you’re about to answer it. He’s so impatient. A string of texts pop up on your screen. “He needs me right now for . . . something? He’s being super vague.”

Jade doesn’t respond. You snap your fingers in front of his wide eyes.

“Jade? Hello?”

He blinks once, twice. “Oh. Yes. Floyd.”

“Yes, Floyd. He wants me to go back for something. Are you okay?”

“Yes. Yes, of course.” He intertwines his fingers with yours and holds them gently by your sides. His skin feels as soothingly cool as ever. “Shall we go?”

“Actually, Floyd wants me to go alone this time.” The texts he sent are rather adamant about it. You aren’t sure what requires this degree of secrecy. “It might be important?”

“If it’s important, I don’t see why I should be kept in the dark.” His grip tightens on your hand, just enough to be firm, not overbearing. “I’m sure he can be convinced.”

“I guess you’re right. I can’t really think of why he doesn’t want you to know.”

“Whatever it is, I know of it now, so I may as well tag along.”

He’s so stubborn. Just as you concede, you get a call from Azul. You pick up with growing curiosity. Azul right after Floyd?

“What’s the matter?”

Azul’s voice sounds strained. “Can you go back to the twins’ residence? There’s a problem.”

“What’s the problem?”

A pause. “Is Jade with you?”

Mutual understanding fills the space between you as you make eye contact with Jade.

“No, he isn’t. Why?”

“Floyd just—wait—”

The sound of shattering glass. The line goes dead.

You grip Jade’s hand. “Let’s go. Should I call a taxi?”

“No.” He presses a kiss to your fingers again. Before you can even process that, he lets go. His cool touch lingers on your skin. “The sea is faster.”

He shrugs off his blazer, then unbuttons his waistcoat. The expensive clothes drop onto the sand in his haste. His fingers make quick work of the buttons on his shirt. They open in succession in a way that mimics drawing back silk curtains on a canopy bed, revealing his collarbones, bare chest, solid abs, all awash in red and gold tones of the setting sun—

You look away. There’s no need to watch the process of his transformation into his mer-form. Of course not. Certainly not when it’s causing sweat to gather under your collar. Focus. You need to clear your mind and prepare yourself for what might have happened at the mansion. That’s right, focus—

“You may look if you’d like.” His shadow overlaps yours. Cold fingers tangle around your own, capturing you like tendrils of seaweed snagging a hapless diver. His voice coos in your ear and seeps into your mind. “I would not mind it. Merfolk are not squeamish about nudity the way land-dwellers are.”

You swallow hard, but it does nothing to help the heat starting to emanate from your cheeks. It’s strange. You’ve seen the twins shirtless before, many times. Neither of them are shy about it—in some ways, they actually prefer it. You just haven’t ever seen them in the process of taking off clothes. The way fabric slides away to reveal skin, the way his nimble fingers slip the buttons out of place . . . .

“Too bad I’m a squeamish land-dweller. Hurry up! We need to get there quickly.”

“As you wish.”

He squeezes your hand lightly. Before he can let go, however, a shriek pierces the air.

You whirl around. Standing in the middle of the deserted beach, the dying sun lighting her hair up in fiery shades, is (Y/N).

Panic is the first thing that shoots through your heart. She wasn’t supposed to see you for the duration of the story. But maybe this is just a minor scene that won’t affect the major plot? It can’t be. Her features twist into an ugly glare you have never seen on her before, a nasty expression you weren’t even aware she was capable of making. It tamps down whatever relief or hope you might’ve had from seeing her again after several weeks.

“(Y/N)?” Something ice cold grips your heart. You step towards her. Why did she scream? Is she alright? Is she hurt? Did something scare her? You scan your surroundings. The three of you are alone on the beach. No external threats. You need to make sure she’s alright. You need to find out why she’s glaring at you like she wants to rip out your heart. You need to go back to the mansion. You need to help Floyd and Azul. There are too many things pulling you in different directions. Your thoughts go haywire. Who do you go to? Who do you prioritize? What’s most important here?

Who do you care about more?

A tug on your hand snaps you back to reality.

“Go,” he says, placing himself in front of you. You stare at the hills and valleys of the muscles on his back. “Call a taxi. I’ll take care of this situation.”

You don’t even know what “this situation” is. (Y/N) is livid, and her glare is aimed at you. She points at you, storming over with a wild look in her eyes. You flinch. It is the first time you have ever seen her like this. She is sweet and mellow, kind and caring, never one to radiate hatred. This is not her nature. This is not the (Y/N) she is supposed to be—no, this is not the (Y/N) you have come to know.

“You!” Poison drips from her voice and sears your eardrums. “So you’re the one who’s been fucking everything up! It’s all ruined because of you! Everything. Everything. It’s all because of you!”

“Go,” Jade urges, releasing your hand. You stay rooted to the spot.

What is she saying? What did you ruin? Guilt tears at your chest. Why is she so angry at you? She’s your best friend. Your best friend can’t hate you.

“You’re the bitch who’s been fucking up the plot. I did so much to get here, and you’re making it all useless! Get out! Just disappear! This was supposed to be perfect. It’s supposed to be exactly as I wanted. This time, everything is supposed to go my way!”

The plot? She knows about that? But how? Does she also have a copy of the manuscript? You’ve been doing everything you can to make sure things follow the plot. Is she talking about something completely different? Things are moving too fast for you to think everything through. There’s an alien glint in her eyes. Something more than anger. Something murderous. She lunges for you, only to be stopped by Jade as he steps between you two.

“Don’t touch her.” His firm voice chills the air. She freezes on the spot, looking like she was slapped across the face.

“What? No. No, no, no. You’re supposed to be on my side. You’re supposed to say I’m right, no matter what. Why are you defending her?” She pulls at her hair and hunches over. “He was right. You aren’t following the story at all. You’re supposed to love me. You’re supposed to be madly in love with me! Why? What’s wrong with you? What’s wrong with all of you?”

You step forward, half of you wanting to do anything at all to comfort her. The other half screams at you to hurry back to the mansion. You’re still torn. The scene is a sand castle, and it’s crumbling in your hands faster than you can put it back together.

She throws her head back, staring at the sky, before pinning her gaze on you. “It’s all your fault. Who the fuck are you to come here and seduce my Jade? You’re just an extra. You don’t even have a name. You’re just Friend A! You’re a useless side character who doesn’t even matter after a couple pages. Who do you think you are?”

Jade’s fingers curl into fists. His voice thins with his patience. “That is enough. Shut your mouth before I carve it off of you.”

Tears fill her bloodshot eyes. “What are you saying? You’re in love with me. That’s no way to talk to me, and you know it. You love me. You’d do anything for me. Right? Say I’m right. Say I’m right, Jade!”

You can’t see his face. You’re honestly glad for it. (Y/N) reacts to his expression with a recoil of genuine fear.

“You must be mistaken. I don’t love you. I never have, and I never will.”

Tears stream down her face. She tries to grasp his arms, only for him to smack her hands away. She cradles her hand against her chest and bites her lip so hard it starts to bleed.

“You don’t love me? You’re lying. The story says you should love me. Why don’t you love me? You’re being cruel, Jade. You’re supposed to be sweet to me. I’m the only one you’re supposed to care about! Love me. Love me, love me, love me, love me!”

She screeches, a bone-chilling cry that slices the evening air. You step towards her, brushing past Jade’s protective arm. Her gaze focuses on you. Just as you get close enough, she lunges for your throat. Her nails touch your skin. And your surroundings burst into brilliant white light.

White.

There’s nothing here.

Just white space.

And suddenly, there’s something.

You blink rapidly as you find yourself in a small, cozy room. A warm, crackling fireplace casts warm light over soft fabrics and old furniture, contrasted against silvery moonlight spilling in from a large window. Bookshelves stretch from floor to ceiling. Knit blankets drape over throw pillows and two armchairs, one of them occupied. You shift into a defensive stance and your Signature Spell envelops your body on instinct.

A middle-aged man raises his head. There’s something odd about him. His clothes are outdated, his demeanour too calm. His thin frame and mild-mannered smile makes him seem like less of a threat, but you know better than to underestimate anyone.

“Good evening,” he says, folding his hands in his lap. “I apologize for the abrupt intervention, and I hope you are not too confused from your trip here.”

“Who are you? Where am I?” It seems like he’s the one who brought you here. What was that bright light earlier? A teleportation spell? What about Jade, (Y/N), Azul, and Floyd? “Actually, don’t answer that. Send me back. Right now.”

“I understand your distress, but I think we are due for a conversation. Why don’t you join me for a cup of tea? As one close to you might note, a soothing cup of tea will help you relax.”

There’s already tea on the table. Only now do you realize it smells of lavender. Was it always there?

“I’m not drinking or eating anything you give me. Send me back.”

“Goodness, young people are so hasty. There is much to the world that you may only learn of when you slow down. I’d expect you, out of all the characters, to agree with me.”

“Characters?” Your shoulders tense. He also knows about the story. “Tell me what you know.”

He gestures to the armchair across from him. “Please take a seat. This may take quite some time, and as it is rather far outside what you may consider to be your realm of possibility, please suspend your disbelief. You may believe what you choose to. I, for one, promise to you that everything I say is the truth.”

You curl up into the armchair, eyes never leaving him. He promised you answers, and you’re willing to hear him out. No matter what manner of strange things he says, you’ll parse the truth of the matter out of it.

“Well, now, how shall I begin?” He takes a sip of tea, the scent of lavender mixing with the smoky scent of the fireplace. “Let me first explain to you the setting, as any good story may start. This world that you live in, your existence, as well as the existence of everyone else in your life—all of this is part of a story. And I am a . . . hm, how exactly shall I phrase it? I suppose to characters like you, my existence is somewhat similar to a god.”

#twisted wonderland #disney twst #jade leech #twst jade #twst fanfic #twst x reader #jade leech x reader #mafia au #multi chap fic #slow burn #truly sorry to that one commenter who said they hope nothing happens to y/n and reader #things will make sense soon I promise

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alessiamalfoyzabini · 1 month

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Dark Moon | Chapter Eight

Pairing | yandere!Jimin x Reader

Word Count | 3k

Warnings | +18, yandere themes, smut noncon, teasing, forced nudity, humiliation, glove returns, insults, slapping, fingering, tears, forced pleasure, finger licking, rough penetration, vaginal sex, orgasm denial, contraceptive use, Jimin becomes a lust demon, MC loses patience and explodes, triggering content, this is not for minors

This fanfiction is yandere, if you don't like the genre, don't read and if you are not of age, don't read.

I don't want to hear any complaints in the comments, thank you.

This does not reflect my way of thinking or living at all, it is just a work of fiction, it is like watching a horror movie, many of us love horror movies, but we would never dream of what we see in those movies happening in reality as well.

Simply put, this story was written for entertainment purposes, it should not be seen as a reflection of my values, opinions or morals. I absolutely do not condone such acts.

⤷ Summary | She just wanted to escape her past, take charge of her life and break out of her steel cage, praying in God for a miracle that could change her life for good.

And her prayers were heard, but it was not the Divine that answered her.

That was certainly the devil in the guise of an angel, she thought as those corrupted and empty eyes searched her soul with extreme voracity.

He turned a sweet, false smile on her, before pushing her into the abyss.

➢ Author's Note | Here is the new chapter of Dark Moon ❤️ Let me know what you think, it is always a joy for me to know if you like the story 🥰

Taglist: @katherine-kookie, @dragons-flare, @m00njinnie, @seokjins-luigi, @pjmsneverland, @jimincrystal, @ajkwww, @ungodlyjoon, @hecateslittlewitchling, @namjoonsbuspass, @darkuni63, @xicanacorpse

Taglist is open!

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He passed the hallway that divided them with a light step, darkness engulfing the house in deadly silence, he kept thinking of her as a chill slid down his spine, he thought of her small, soft body, his to break in any way.

When he reached the bedroom, the doorknob lowered under the pressure of his fingers, opened without making a squeak. Nothing in that house seemed willing to help the young woman.

He inhaled into the air the sweet scent of woman there, it was floral and honeyed, something that made a low, deep growl vibrate in his chest.

Like a predator he reached for his prey as silently as possible, moving through the darkness, his friend, this reminded him of the night of the abduction, just as then he watched her sleeping blissfully in a bed that did not belong to her, illuminated by the dim light of the street lamps filtering through the ajar window, her face softly stretched in an angelic expression angered the man, who contrary to his emotional state felt his cock harden.

He bit his lower lip as he climbed onto the bed he had personally chosen for her; he had taken care of every little detail and she should have simply thanked him.

When Y/N lifted his heavy eyelids in the darkness of the room he knew immediately that something was wrong. She felt foreign moisture on her neck, but it took her a few seconds longer to connect well and understand the actual situation.

Jimin broke away from the delicate line of her neck to imprison her in his lust and resentment-laden eyes, with a small, shrill cry she tried to evade the man, who in response imprisoned her in his strong arms.

"Be quiet," he hissed harshly, watching the young woman's chest heave at a terrified, dizzying pace, reminded him of a pawing mare, and with a grin unfastened the first button of her pajamas from one of the buttonholes.

"What are you going to do?" she swallowed breathlessly, feeling the chill night air at every flap of skin let loose from the constriction of the warm fabric.

"I'm going to take what's mine," he murmured, grasping between his teeth a pinkish, delicate pearl that soon turned scarlet following a bite that made her scream in pain; she wriggled in his arms, trying to escape, and Jimin buried, if possible, even more his head between the woman's breasts, letting his warm, delicate tongue soothe those suffocating sensations, repeatedly striking the offended, stiff tip, he sucked the rest of the soft skin insistently, causing small, stinging bruises to surface, the young woman looked up at the ceiling of her room in shock, everything was happening so quickly that the anxiety in her chest erupted into yet another panic attack.

Y/N grabbed him by the shoulders, putting force to push him away, and her nails penetrated the man's beautiful skin, which far from contentedly pulled away from the girl's now battered breasts.

His black eyes were dipped in fire and soon Y/N realized his fury, at first she hadn't noticed anything, too caught up in her own personal despondency, but now she could clearly see the torment encased in the irises of the man who towered over her like a statue of pure marble, a slap torn the skin of her lower lip, leaving her breathless.

With his jaw tensed Jimin nailed his hips to the girl's, making her aware of his complete nakedness, the woman lost a beat, at which point she burst into tears, remembering when the man had forced her to take him in her mouth, she didn't think it would happen again so soon, God ... she had even gotten used to the idea of being out of the Dark Moon's business.

As if Jimin had read her mind, a lazy smile stretched across his angelic features.

"I took you away from that place because I didn't want other men to dump their cum into you," he said grabbing her by the chin in a grip that had nothing gentle about it at all, "You should thank me, I saved you from a life as a whore that would have made you satisfy the cravings and perversions of all those pigs you would meet."

Y/N would have liked to reply that he was the one who had brought her there, that she had absolutely nothing to thank him for, but Jimin's lips pounced on hers, plugging her mouth before she could say anything that would surely only bring more trouble for her.

The kiss was violent and full of possession, Jimin's tongue entwined with hers in a voracious struggle, heedless of the blood staining her broken lower lip, he took care to taste her sweet flavor as he slowly slid the covers off her body.

Then an idea tickled his mind, releasing the young woman from his ravenous mouth, causing her to momentarily regain air.

"Get undressed," he ordered peremptorily, moving away to make himself comfortable between the blankets.

Y/N watched frozen as the male's actions shamelessly displayed the stiffened length of his cock; it was colored a vivid shade of pink, the turgid tip wet with clear liquid was screaming with need, but Jimin did not even try to touch himself, his dark, wicked irises were on her, waiting.

"Did you hear me?"

Y/N pondered the situation well, and no matter how hard she looked for a way out, it simply did not exist.

If she had tried to escape, he would have caught her and beaten her.

If she had hit him, it probably still would have ended with her getting beaten.

With her heart in her throat she unbuttoned what was left of the buttons of her pajamas, she felt dirty, she was not even fighting for her dignity.

She ended up lowering her shorts as well, remaining only in her clear briefs, and Jimin drank in with his eyes every drop of the image that came before him. He knew she was beautiful, even if annoying, there was a goddess in front of him and a more intense vibration of his cock made him nod in agreement in his mind, now she was simply perfect, because now she belonged to him.

The thought of sharing her had dampened his enthusiasm somewhat, but now he would no longer have to worry about it.

That slut would only welcome his cum where, when, and as much as he wanted it.

"Now turn around and make like the bitches in heat," he said softly, humiliating the woman even more, who clamped her mouth in a hard line, making her tear-filled eyes sparkle, "I won't repeat myself, Y/N. Do what I just told you," he used her name to emphasize the threat in his voice. Jimin was a man of his word, she knew it well.

Swallowing the knot of tears, the woman did as she was told, showing the man the full view of her buttocks still covered by her panties, Jimin hummed contentedly following the line of her pussy that seemed to seduce and call to him, he noticed only then a slight wet spot at the height of her slit, an increasingly sadistic and amused grin spread across his face.

"Wait for me here without moving, understand? I'll be back soon," he intimated to her, leaving the room heedless of his cock screaming at him to take her right away.

Y/N stared at the headboard of the bed with a look lost in nothingness, feeling ashamed of the immoral position she had been forced to, it made her feel if possible even more naked, and she was also getting tired, her wrists and knees that supported her weight were going numb, she was on the verge of collapsing when Jimin returned, she felt his presence not because he announced it, but because by now her body shivered whenever he was around.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, sweetheart," he chuckled, placing himself behind her intentionally, "I just want to make sure I won't hurt a virgin pussy," he whispered in her ear, Y/N had only time to frown, because next Jimin slipped her panties off just enough to slip two fingers directly through the girl's tight, moist slit, who let out a cry at the painful intrusion, only then did she notice something strange, something that made her chest flare with humiliation.

Jimin's hand was wrapped in a leather glove, that leather glove.

The boy caressed her innermost walls, not bothering to be gentle, Y/N squeezed her eyes shut at the cruel invasion, moaning breathlessly at the glove rubbing into her in a rough and crude way, Jimin pushed his fingers deeper, against a spot that made her jerk in surprise, the man at that point added a third finger, delighted by the half moans that the woman could not block between her teeth, devastated by her body feeling pleasure against her will.

Y/N feared this might happen, but she did not imagine it would happen so soon, somehow he had won, again.

The man's hand increased the pace, touching more and more sensitive and hot spots, the girl's hips began to come to him trembling and shy, at which point he stopped, pulling out his three fingers completely drenched in her pearly essence. He watched in satisfaction as that result, pride filled his chest, and a low laugh vibrated through the room.

"You're not a virgin, that certainly hasn't changed," he began, kneeling down to get a better look at her trembling state of shock and stolen pleasure, "But honey, you're so wet now, the first time wasn't like this," he mortified her, leaving a thick lick along her soaked slit, reaching the swollen clitoris that until then had remained untouched and throbbing, Y/N squeezed her eyes shut despondently in the throes of an enjoyment she should not have experienced, Jimin pulled away only to bring proof of his words to her eyes, the glove glistening with her stringy essence.

"Lick," the man ordered, surprising her once again, "Good bitches lick everything until they clean up their mess," he said cruelly, and Y/N did so.

She brought his fingers to her mouth and licked her own essence under Jimin's order, who touched her soft tongue pushing up to her throat. The woman choked for air until the boy released her to put himself back behind her.

He didn't even give her time to get used to the idea, he slid the tip of his cock against her perky, receptive clitoris: once, twice, three times, Jimin lost count of how many times he unnerved the girl before positioning himself at her entrance and sliding inside her.

The pleasure for the man was immediate, he clawed her hard by the hips before thrusting fiercely inside her, Y/N screamed in vain, despite the soggy, throbbing walls the size and thrusts of Jimin's cock were simply too much to bear, she had never had to deal with anything like this, the sensitive tip met the entrance of her cervix and the girl stiffened at the foreign sensation, contracting the walls and squeezing Jimin's cock in such a way that soon had the room filled with the boy's moans and grunts.

"Holy-! You squeeze me so good!" he gasped without realizing it, now lost and intoxicated, peering his length in and out drenched with both of their arousal, his balls slapped the woman's clitoris, she collapsed with her face on the pillows, which muffled her desperate moans, she felt pain, but also a strange pleasure in her belly, which along with the shiny, stimulated pearl between her legs tried to make her reach for something, something that never came.

Jimin got off her just in time, continuing to masturbate with his gloved hand, squeezing the red tip until he discharged his cum between the girl's quivering buttocks.

Y/N finally fell onto the bed, exhausted and unsatisfied.

She had never been able to feel pleasure, she thought with a knot in her throat, she also knew why, and she still could not believe that Jimin had been able to make her go that far, even if in the end that thing had not exploded the way her body had desired.

For his part, Jimin was aware that between the two of them only he had orgasmed.

He had left earlier on purpose.

It was still early for her to experience that kind of pleasure with him; she had to earn it.

That did not, however, prohibit him from opening the lips that protected her now scarlet and abused slit, noticing that the semen poured onto her buttocks was dripping onto her pussy, the erotic sight made him sigh, before he left a kiss on her contracted clitoris that caused her to shudder.

"I've told you before, I could lick your pussy if you behave, Y/N..." he murmured an inch from her, "I could make you scream with pleasure, not pain, if only you'd let me," he sighed pulling away from her, the now-quiet demons were asking for rest, Jimin looked at the girl's still inert body, then left her there alone, returning to his bedroom.

The next morning Y/N found a white box on her bedside table with a note next to it and a glass of water.

'Take it before breakfast, prevention is better than cure.'

The woman frowned, reading the brand name on the box and soon realized what it was. It was a morning-after pill.

She moved to get up from the bed, but a tremendous twinge of pain between her legs made her breath catch, the memory of Jimin's wild thrusts was still vivid and painful in her, pulling up with her nose she strained to take the water and the pill, she would not allow such an accident with that monster, at least he had been quite prescient in that case.

Y/N's routine changed drastically for the worse from then on, if during the day she had a semblance of peace, at night when Jimin came home it was hell, he always waited for her to finish dinner and go to sleep to attack.

He lived in anxiety every night, he didn't know it, but she had become the young man's new addiction, drowning in her body helped him escape from his disgusting memories, helped him not to think, and more than once she had been on the verge of fainting under his desperate thrusts, she ached all over and the man didn't seem to care at all.

He fed lustfully on her.

"I hate you! I hate you!" she shrieked one evening with contempt-infused eyes in his direction, it had been yet another stressful day at work for Jimin, the only thing he wanted was to find himself in bed with her, his new cure and damnation.

He had found her standing there cooking for herself, Jimin never ate at home and even if he had, he would never have eaten anything prepared by her, he could not have known what might be in that food and he wanted to avoid possible poisoning from his recalcitrant bedmate.

He had not held back, he had reached behind her heedless of her terrified gasp, attaching himself to her neck like a suction cup as he reached down with his hands to her hot intimacy, for Y/N was too much.

She could take it no more, she was in pain, and the only thing she was getting from all that fucking was just a strange state of upset and dissatisfaction, as well as now devastating physical pain.

She threw everything she was using up in the air only to turn to the boy and slap him full in the face, the small fingers matched perfectly with the soft skin that turned scarlet in seconds, she continued to hit him on the chest with fists and more slaps.

"You're fucking killing me!" she cried hysterically, Jimin cashed in each blow with icy, marble eyes, let her vent without a word, "I'm going crazy! Why are you doing this to me!"

The girl collapsed to the ground, exhausted, the adrenaline that had pervaded her body leading her to such an outburst now gone, now she was alone, tremendously alone with her tormentor.

She lifted her weary eyes to Jimin, who touched his injured cheek to his face slowly, licking the split and bleeding corner of his mouth.

Y/N marveled at her own strength, her hands burning and throbbing feverishly, she closed them into fists, ready to suffer the fury of man.

The latter knelt in front of her, grabbed her chin firmly and forced her to look at him. Y/N already imagined what would happen.

"What's the matter?" he asked, leaving her stunned, "Is it because I won't let you cum or because your pussy is a little sore?"

"A little?" shocked the woman, "You don't care about me, you just want to use me as a sack for your cum and then throw me away!"

Jimin nodded unable to do anything else, strangely even seemed sympathetic, then said something out of the blue that shocked both of them.

"I'm sorry."

With a strange expression on his face, he got up and disappeared into his bedroom before those words could penetrate deeper into both of them, Y/N observed the place left empty by the boy with a vacant look. Those simple apologies could not belong to Park Jimin. He never apologized; in fact, it was as if he was allowed to do whatever he most craved, so why apologize?

For this very reason she remained vigilant all night, staying awake until the first light of dawn. But Jimin did not show up.

He had not looked for her, neither the next day nor the next.

It was as if Jimin had forgotten about her, but Y/N could not know how wrong she was.

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