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#but the fantasy has me in it's jaws
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Please let Astarion meet Tav's family and have a younger sibling like 6 be like im gonna marry the prince points at Astarion.
Tav : Sorry, im married to the prince
NO IM GONNA MARRY THE PRINCE
That's so fucking cute kill me. But I just realized AFTER I finished it I read this wrong 😭😭 I read it as "marry" instead of "married" so whoops now it's an asking for your hand in marriage fic.
Also, I'm going to make this a weird little, unofficial, alternate reality, off shoot of this fic to explain away why Astarion can be in the sun without ascending because I am ~lazy~
Quick summary if you didn't read it, Tav serves Selune, gets a blessing for all the good work, and uses it to cure the anti-light issue of the vampirism (but not all of it). It's not a literal extension of that fic but I'm stealing my own plot explanations. That's it! Now here we go:
~
Astarion wasn't nervous per se. He was just... on edge. And the two-week journey it took to get here wasn't helping things, not when it gave him so much time to ruminate in his thoughts. He never expected to be in the position of "meeting the family," let alone in anticipation for asking for someone's hand in marriage.
Astarion wasn't even quite sure how his life got here. He had always fantasized that a life without Cazador would be one of selfish hedonism, not one where he would be legitimately concerned about a damn six year old sibling's first impression of him.
But then you came along, effortlessly shattering all of his grandiose plans with a batt of your eyelashes. Perhaps the entire journey of falling in love was more complicated, but it felt like it was that simple. In hindsight, he never stood a chance against you, but it was hilarious that there was a time he ever thought he did.
All of his prior dreams and fantasies felt like nothing in comparison to just being with you. It had been a year since you both saved the Sword Coast, a beautiful, fantastic year. That had ended with him somehow more in love with you now than when he first confessed. Selune's blessing had certainly helped with that he was sure. He still couldn't quite believe that you would use a god's blessing on him of all people, but gods, was he appreciative. Because being able to walk in the sun again meant that he could live the life he wanted, with no restrictions. He could be the partner you deserved, the kind that a father would happily say yes to when asking for your hand.
Which brought him back to his current dilemma. Perhaps he hadn't seen any of your family members in the time you'd been together, but he had heard plenty. You loved them all to death, especially your little sister. You wrote to them constantly, the mere sight of a letter from your parents enough to put you in a great mood for the rest of the day. He was aware that your mother was supposedly a saint, a fact that your own father had instilled in you often. He knew that they had a wonderful, loving marriage and were both higher ups in the Church of Selune. A fact that Astarion didn't particularly enjoy.
As grateful to the moon goddess as he was, he was aware that you were an expectation to the very normal belief that vampires were bad. And that marrying one was one of the stupidest things you could ever do from an average person's perspective, let alone a Selunite.
Why you hadn't done the smart thing and lied about what he was, Astarion would never know. But he did know that the thought of their rejection over his admittedly sordid history was putting him in a tailspin.
"They're going to love you," You said for the hundredth time, giving his hand a squeeze as you led him up the steps to your childhood home, "You have nothing to worry about sweetheart. I promise."
Astarion highly doubted that, but you were already knocking on the front door before he had a chance to argue. The door instantly slammed open, a beaming child already launching themselves at you before Astarion could process what was happening.
But you were more prepared them he was. You effortlessly caught them in your arms, laughing at their excited shouting, "Titi! You're late!"
So this was the famous Arabeth.
"No, I'm not!" You laughed as you settled her on your hip, "And what happened to my little girl's manners huh? You haven't even introduced yourself yet."
The child glanced over at him, like she was just realizing for the first time that someone else was standing over there. She looked a little shocked at the sight of him, staring at him with wide eyes. Wide enough for Astarion to start to wonder if something was on his face.
He gave her a little wave only for her to bury her face into your shoulder, peeking out at him with her lips pursed. Which was not the best start to the whole making his darling's family actually like him plan.
"Well, as you've probably guessed this is Arabeth. She's just a little shy," You reassured as you stepped inside, muttering a quick invitation inside under your breath. He appreciated that, he didn't need the whole house to be reminded of his... limitations.
"But she'll get over it soon enough," You continued as you called into the house, "Mom? Dad? We're here!"
And just like that they were rushing into the room, acting just as excited as your sister had been. Your mother wasted no time in smothering your face with kisses while your father swept you up into a hug. It was a rather impressive display of coordination, considering how they hadn't managed to knock you and your sister to the floor in the process. Astarion was pretty sure they were both saying something along the lines of We missed you! But it was hard to tell with all of you so tangled up in each other.
It was heartwarming to see, in all honestly. Of course such a loving person would come from an equally loving family, what else would he expect?
Though he certainly hadn't been expecting for your mother to throw her arms around him next. She brought him into a tight hug before looking him up and down, "So you're Astarion huh?"
She turned back to you, grinning ear to ear with her hands set on Astarion's shoulders, "He's so handsome! Selune help us, do you remember the last boy you brought home? He had a nose the length of my arm-"
"And that's enough of that," You said with a strained laugh, pulling your eccentric mother back a few inches, "And we've talked about the impromptu hugs. What happened to asking for permission?"
"Sorry, sorry!" She said with a wave of her hand, "Let me try again. I'm Seliras, and this is my husband-"
"Marcoul," Your father interrupted, putting his hand out for Astarion to shake, "It's been awhile since we've met a boyfriend."
"He's a little more than that," You said with a sigh as everyone exchanged pleasantries.
"We'll be the judge of that," Marcoul said with a sharp but friendly grin, the grip he had on Astarion's hand briefly tightening before he let go, "From what we've heard, you're quite the character aren't you?"
Ah, so the interrogating was starting early then. It was nothing that Astarion hadn't expected. Besides, turning up the charm was his strong suit, even when he was uncharacteristically nervous.
Astarion smiled back at him, "You've heard right. And I'm more than happy to answer any questions you might have."
"Oh gods please don't say that," You groaned, but it was too late. Your parents were already leading him to sit, rapid-fire questions coming out of their mouth.
Where are you from? How did you meet? Are you serious about our Tav? What's your religion? Where's your family? What are your plans?
But Astarion answered them all, with only mild censorship for the child's sake. The child who suddenly couldn't stop staring at him. It wasn't exactly easy to sell himself as a future husband when he was a vampiric ex-slave, but he made do.
It was an overwhelming experience to say the least, but not necessarily an unpleasant one. That was one good thing about trying to marry into a family of zealots, it was a lot easier to convince them of your virtue when you received a personal blessing from their goddess.
By the end of the night, they were all throughly appeased, enough so to get off the topic of him for a moment.
"You look a little young to have a thirty-year old child," Astarion said to your mother. He was actively trying to compliment her for obvious reasons, but he was also genuinely curious. She barely looked a day over 40.
"Oh we breed young," She said with a laugh, "We had Tav in our teenage years. Arabeth came much, much later. Our favorite little surprise. Gods, I can't think of a single person in our family who didn't have kids young. Our little Tav is the only exception to the rule."
"But maybe not for much longer, huh?" Marcoul added with a grin, yelping when you lightly smacked him over the head for the comment.
"Do not start the kid talk again!" You hissed out, cheeks red, "We've talked about this!"
Astarion couldn't help but grin at your reaction, charmed by your embarrassment. Though... the idea of the two of you having children together sure was an interesting thought.
Astarion felt a tug on his sleeve while you were distracted arguing with your parents. He turned, smiling when he saw your little sister standing there, still staring at him with wide-eyes.
She took a deep breath before blurting out, "You look like a prince. Are you?"
"Not exactly," Astarion said with a small laugh. That couldn't be further from the truth, "There's no blue blood in my veins."
She frowned, cocking her head at him like he wasn't making any sense. But then an idea obviously struck her as she excitedly asked, "But if you married a princess, then you'd become a prince too. Right?"
"I suppose?" Astarion answered with a shrug.
"So if I become a princess, and I marry you, then you'll be a prince?"
This conversation was quickly becoming out of his depth. But luckily enough for him you were swooping in to save him.
You laughed at her question, turning your attention back to the two of them, "No offense Bethy, but I'm going to be the one marrying this particular prince."
But Arabeth wasn't having it. She crossed her arms, looking at you like she was the one talking to a child, "You can't. Because if I don't marry him, he won't be a prince. So there. I have to do it."
She looked so serious, her facial expressions incredibly similar to your own. Astarion was holding back a loud laugh as you tried and failed to reason with her, "I can marry him without the royal status-"
"No! I'm marrying the prince!"
Your parents were doing a much worse job at hiding their reactions, both of them opening giggling behind their hands as you came up with a compromise.
"Okay, okay," You said with a sigh, kneeling down to look the small girl in the eye, "How about this? I marry him first. But only until you become a princess. Then he's all yours. Sound fair?"
She thought about it for a moment before nodding to herself, "Sounds fair."
Well Astarion wasn't going to get a better set-up then that. He turned to your father, his nerves coming back for a brief appearance, "I'm assuming now might be a good time to ask what I came here to ask. Though I do promise I only intending on asking for one of your children's hand in marriage."
Marcoul nodded slowly, his face unreadable as he spoke, "I mean no offense when I say this Astarion, but you aren't exactly who I imagined for my daughter."
"Dad don't-"
"Darling, let him finish," Astarion gently interrupted, his eyes still locked with your father's.
He took a deep breathe before continuing, "That said, I've never seen her so... herself with someone else before. So yes. The two of you can marry. On one condition."
"Anything," Astarion said instantly, nearly giddy at the fact that he was so close to the official yes, "Just name it."
"You have to have the wedding here," Seliras answered for him, a massive smile on her face, "No ifs, ands, or buts."
"And I get to be flower girl!" Arabeth chimed in, her past indignation completely forgotten as she climbed all over you, "And there has to be chocolate cake!"
"Oh gods, help us," You groaned, but Astarion was already nodding along. He couldn't give less than two shits where it happened or who was involved. He could scarcely believe that it was happening at all. But that was the last thing he had needed.
He already had the ring, the most amazing person he could ever fathom being with. Who actually wanted him back.
Now all he had to do was ask.
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buckyalpine · 7 months
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Bucky knows you’re faking
Bucky knows you’re faking. He has no idea where you met this guy or why you’re still with him, in fact Bucky almost feels sorry for him. Because this guy thinks he’s doing a good job. He thinks he’s making you cry from pleasure, he thinks he’s pulling orgasms from you left right and center but Bucky knows.
Becuase he’s heard you. Fucking smelled you.
In your room, all by yourself.
He hears every moan and whimper, all those noises you can’t hold back. The filthy squelching of your pussy making a mess on the sheets is a sound unmatched. You always smell so good after and he can’t get over how soft and sweet you are, all fucked out with a quiver in your voice, not realizing he knows exactly what you’ve been up to with those pretty fingers between your legs.
He’s seen the way you practically glow afterwards, a shy smile on your face, acting like you weren’t moaning like a bitch in heat minutes ago. Always when it’s well past midnight, coming down for a snack, a thin sheen of sweat still covering your skin. He’s usually in the kitchen, having to pretend his cock isn’t aching after hearing how pretty you sound, how desperate and loud you get when you think no one can hear you.
But he can.
Bucky grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, smirking when he heard your less than enthusiastic sounds and silence a few minutes later. He watched carefully as you made your way into the kitchen with nothing but a flimsy robe covering you, eyes growing wide when you realized you weren’t alone.
“Have a fun night?” Bucky cocked an eyebrow, struggling to keep his eyes on your face and not the loose knot, so close to letting your robe fall open, giving him access to that pretty body-
“Oh-yes” you shrugged, suddenly feeling hot all over realizing Bucky had probably heard you, “I-um-I don’t think I’ll see him again”
“Why not” Bucky prodded, his curiosity piqued, self-restraint faltering, he couldn't hold back, not when that poor excuse of a robe was begging to be ripped off. “He can’t make you cum, can he princess”
“What?” You stared at Bucky like a deer caught in headlights, frozen on the spot, mouth gaping while he chuckled.
“I said-” he got up from his place at the kitchen island, biting his lip while backing you against the counter, your eyes growing wide feeling his hard, poorly contained bulge press onto you. "He can't make you cum? Can he?"
“I-" You stammered, gripping onto the edge of the counter, surely you were dreaming, there's no way this was really happening, all the fantasies you've thought of coming to life-
“Oh baby” Bucky cooed at your flustered state, tilting your face up to meet his eyes, “Don’t get all shy on me now bunny. Was that it? Did he make you cum?”
You shook your head, still nearly frozen like a baby deer, whimpering when Bucky groaned, his lips brushing against your ear.
"Knew you were faking it princess, I've heard you, y'know" Bucky smirked at your gasp, clearly mortified that he'd heard you during your most intimate moments. "Y'sound so pretty when you touch yourself baby"
"Bucky" You whined, not sure what you were begging for, arousal pooling between your legs, spreading your knees slightly to press yourself against his thigh.
"Tell me to stop" his jaw was clenched, gripping onto the single strange of restraint he had, his fingers toying with the knot of your robe.
"D-don't stop" You let out a shuddered breath, shivering when your robe was thrown off before you could blink, Bucky's lips smashing onto yours. His hand gripped the back of your neck, his tongue claiming your mouth as his, teeth nipping and sucking your lip. He lifted you onto the cool marble counter with ease, metal fingers swiping through your folds, gathering your slick before shoving them in his mouth, groaning at the taste.
"You're fuckin' sweet bunny" He didn't give you a chance to respond, prying your thighs apart and dipping down to lick a fat stripe through your soaked cunt before latching onto your clit. You cried out in pleasure, his wide shoulders keeping your legs spared apart.
"B-Bucky!!" Your head was thrown back when he shoved two fingers into you, curling and fucking them into you, moaning when you grabbed onto the roots of his hair, tugging harder the closer you got.
"Already sound so pretty baby" He let out a dark chuckle, kissing your pouty face when he pulled away just before you reached your high, tugging down his sweats to pull his cock out, "Bet you'd sound even better when you're stuffed, hm?"
"Please" You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, practically humping yourself on him, desperate to be filled. His cock was curved towards his tummy, the swollen head dripping with precum. There was something about him still being fully dressed while you were stark naked in the middle of the kitchen that aroused you more, knowing damn well anyone could walk by at any given moment.
"You need a fat cock to cum around, don't you bunny? My bunny's such a little slut, she can't cum unless she has a fat cock fucking her brains out?" He taunted, loving the way you were nothing more than a babbling mess already, moaning when you felt his tip catch against your fluttering entrance.
"Please Bucky, need it"
"I know baby, I know, my poor baby needs cock, doesn't she" His eyes locked with yours as he started to breech your tight hole, your breath catching in your throat at the stretch.
"Breathe, s'just me baby, swear you got my cock so hard-shit" He hissed as he pushed himself to the hilt, pulling out at an agonizing slow pace, amusement twinkling in his eyes.
"Faster Bucky, please-please need you" You tried to get him to move but he shook his head, feeling you flutter around him.
"First tell me what you call be princess, what do you call me when you're all alone with these sweet fingers"
Had Bucky not been holding onto you, you would have fainted; you had no idea he'd also heard the nights where you desperately moaned and came over and over again thinking of him. Bucky smirked against your skin, slowing down the drag of his cock again, snapping his hips suddenly making you squeal.
“C’mon darling, what was that you called me”
“DADDYY” you wailed, wrapping your thighs around his waist when he stated to pound you with a bruising grip around your waist, the clinks of glasses in the cupboards growing louder the harder he fucked you on the counter. "OH-GOD-D-DADDY"
"That's right, daddy's fuckin' you baby, makes me so hard when you call me that" Bucky groaned, thrusting faster, already on the brink of an orgasm. He could feel his cock swell each time you moaned or whimpered, his hand sneaking down to rub your clit.
"N'look at this precious clit, s'this what you're always playing with baby? Always rubbing this needy little button, thinking on one can hear you?"
"F-fuck Buckyyyy" Your eyes rolled back, tears streaming down your cheeks when he rubbed you faster, your first orgasm choking his cock without warning. You couldn't formulate words, letting out silent screams, blinking pleasure consuming you.
"That's it baby, moan for me, cum for me, cum for your daddy baby, know you've never cum for anyone else, go on n'cum for daddy, make daddy proud" Bucky looked feral, grunting with each thrust, desperately holding off his own orgasm, needing to feel you cum around him over and over again.
"OH-DADDY-D-DON'T ST-STOPP"
"Look at you baby, such a good girl for daddy, giving daddy all of her cum" Bucky's eyes were wild, staring at where he cock split you open, his length and trimmed hair covered in your creamy mess. "Daddy wants all of his baby's cream sweets"
"OH FUCCCKK" You wailed, your juices squirting all over his crotch, making it impossible for Bucky to hold off any more as you clung into him.
"So fuckin' proud of you baby, made daddy's cock feel so good, y'know that? Y'make daddy so hard, so horny, you're gonna make daddy cum so hard angel, m'gonna cum so hard for you, Fuck-gonna fill you up bunny-take it-take my cum-fuck-FUCCKK" Bucky roared against your neck as streams of cum started to fill you, his cock throbbing and twitching inside you. You were limp in his hold, passed out from pleasure, your combined mess dripping down your thighs and onto the floor.
You didn't even realize you were tucked under the warmed blankets, wrapped up in a pair of thick, muscular arms, Bucky's large chest acting as a pillow. You nuzzled into him while he softly petted you hair, blissfully unaware it was just the start of a very long night.
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peachesofteal · 25 days
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ghoap x reader / 18+ mdni / dark themes
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It’s the sundress. 
The way it flows off your hips, your body moving beneath it, skin glowing just under the hem. You're lucent in it, radiant in a way he's never seen, brilliance so stunning it catches his breath. You’re a perfect peach, juicy and ripe, plump and sumptuous, skin so soft he’d only need a nip to tear into it, the barest bruise of pressure allowing him to drink his fill of precious honeyed nectar. 
There are dozens of people in the café, but he only sees you, can’t tear his gaze away, sick with the heavy tug in his heart, drawing him closer and closer, fingers tense around the flimsy paper cup. He stares, openly, even after Simon clears his throat, scuffs his foot against the sidewalk, says his name. 
Johnny has no patience for a kill, or a meal. He likes to rip into fresh things, soak his maw and stretch his jaw around them, swallow them whole if he can.
Swallow you whole, if he can.
A bead of sweat collects at the back of your neck, and he traces its path between your shoulder blades and below, mouth watering at the singular thought of a taste. 
His tongue licking down your spine to the cleft of your arse, soft, sweet skin parted for him, face crammed between your legs, panting, pushing, desperate for more, and more, and- 
“Johnny.”  
“Pretty thing.” He barely looks at his partner, the heat simmering in his stomach curling into a snare. “Little pocket a’ sunshine.” 
“Johnny.” 
“Ye see ‘er?” Simon’s eyes dig into him, and then you, following the seam of your dress from thigh to shoulder. There’s insatiable insanity in his face, and Johnny knows- 
He sees it too. 
“I do.” 
“Ye dinnae want a taste?” 
“Not enough time.” He nods next door, where the darkness looms, waits for them expectantly. A meeting, a negotiation, a riotous push and pull. The things he’s good at, the part of his job that doesn’t include intimidating or killing or orchestrating a disturbance. 
His hands sow choreographed chaos, but in this moment, he’d rather they do something else instead. 
Pin you down. Pry your thighs wide. Bury his face in your cunt. Would you struggle? Would you cry? Would you take it like a good girl, breathy and sweet, lips shocked into a perfect O for his thumb, pad of it pressed down on your tongue, taste- 
“Better think fast.” Simon warns, jolting him from the fantasy that has his cock swelling, and when he sees you heading for the door, dreamy smile on your face, iced latte precarious in your grip, a plan roars to life. 
It’s easy, to pretend it’s an accident. Easy to act shocked and embarrassed. Easy, to feel terrible about ruining your dress. 
Your gasp is music to his ears. 
“Oh my god-“ it’s almost too much, watching the crushing realization sink in across your features, the dismay at the sight of your newly acquired caffeine fix rushing down the front of your sunflower dotted dress. 
They’ll buy you a new one. They’ll buy you hundreds. 
“’m so sorry.” He croons, reaching to steady you, carefully gripping your elbow under the guise of balance. “Ah, bonnie. ‘m so sorry, I didnae see ye and I was rushin’.” 
“It’s… it’s okay.” You’re blinking too fast, trying to hold back tears, trying to keep yourself together. The patchwork, the glue and tape, parts and pieces easily crumble, even as you try to take a deep breath. “I’m… it’s fine.” 
“Yer dress is ruined.” Obviously. “Let me pay to get it cleaned, at least.” 
“No, no… that’s… it’s okay. I’ll… I’ll just run home, no big deal.” He beats back the burn, the wildfire scorching away the last of his sanity. 
“Please.” Simon chimes in over his shoulder. “It’s the least we can do.” You look between them, confused, eyes wide like a little doe, lost all alone in the deep, dark forest.
Flanked by wolves.
“Or let us give ye a ride to yer place, so ye can change.” He jerks his head to the sleek black sedan, idling at the corner, driver still behind the wheel. The meeting can wait, they've got more pressing issues to attend, now. 
“Oh… uh-“ He can smell the rot of your hesitance. That’s the thing about a doe, they’re naturally skittish, trembling legs uneasy from the day they were born, nervous about their own shadow. “It’s fine, I can walk. It’s not far.” 
“I feel terrible, let me pay for it.” He pours it thick, and as expected, the guilt about making him feel worse locks into place. “I dinnae what I’ll do if we cannae help. If ye give me yer number, we can arrange to cover the cleaners?” Simon looms closer, fingers folding over Johnny's shoulder in an affectionate gesture.
You almost look relieved at the sight.
Poor little doe. 
In the end, you agree. When you give them your name, he traces over each syllable tenderly, memorizing the way it sounds on your lips, as Simon taps a phone number into your contacts.
"Ye go straight home an' change." Johnny murmurs, holding onto your hand a shade too long after you pass him back his phone. "Dinnae want ye walkin' around in a dirty dress all afternoon." You fidget, waxing crescent on your lips, and nod.
"I'll uh... I'll let you know how much it is." There's a hint of a tremble in the back of your throat, off key and off kilter, and he smiles to reassure you, before the two of them turn to take their leave.
"We'll talk to ye soon."
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m-ayo-o · 3 months
Text
 ✦ ˚ pink skirt . no underwear ★⋆. ࿐࿔
𐙚 afab reader x shy alt bf Choso Kamo
* ✦ .  nsfw cw: fingering  ˚ .   * ✦ ˚ .   
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Choso is starting to think you're doing it on purpose.
He's losing his mind.
If he sees you bend over like that one more time, he swears he's gonna have to--
"Fuck-"
He mutters and looks away.
His fantasies of pushing the skimpy material up to feel your creamy pussy in his hand riddles his mind until he goes pink in the cheeks. He has to play with the ring hooked through his bottom lip to distract himself. But he knows that you'll find out what he's thinking eventually. You always do.
He sighs and feels his boner strapped tight in his jeans that's rubbing with every movement of his body. If he so much as breathes he can feel the heavy pulse of his cock. It's beating hard for you and he can't stop it.
"Baby, you okay?"
He tries to adjust himself under your gaze and he props himself up, attempting to hide the massive bulge.
"Mm," he nods stiffly, but you can see he's suffering.
Your eyes drift over his body in those black jeans, his black tank, admiring the tattoos adorned on his rippling muscles. His silvery studded necklace gets your attention, then his lip and ear piercings and the faded, violet shadows around his deep eyes.
He stares back at you; your tits nearly spilling from your tiny white vest, the pleated pastel mini skirt that just hides your ass, and the way you look at him with such wide eyed adoration.
Fuck, how did a guy like him end up with someone like you.
"Come here, please."
Choso has got a bit better about telling you when he needs you.
"Here, yeah," he nods and watches you mount his lap. Your skirt fans over his thighs and he can't stop imagining your pussy underneath.
"What is it, baby?" You coo and twist his spiky locks in your fingers, that are flicking down over his neck.
You never thought someone who looked like him could be so... clueless.
He seemed quite inexperienced when you met him, yet he insisted he'd had a few sexual partners before. It's not as if he's innocent. Oh no, far from it. You know, with the way he stares at you, there are all sorts of perverted thoughts in his head. He's just a little shy.
"I, uh..." the way he stumbles over his words makes your heart race. He's so endearing.
You lower yourself onto him, sitting on his lap and feeling the bulge of his cock through his hard jeans.
"Baby, tell me," your delicate fingers trace the ink up his neck to where it stops at his jaw, "tell me what you need."
"W-want-" he stutters and sighs.
You smile sweetly, encouraging him.
"I- I want to touch you."
"Oh, baby, good boy," you place a chaste kiss on his cheekbone.
"Where, hm?" You press, stroking his swollen chest.
"I..." he finds the courage to snake a hand up the curve of your back. The rings on his fingers feel cool where he settles around your neck, stroking you softly.
He pulls you close and gives you a nervous look before quietly admitting-
"I want to finger you."
You smile and giggle, knowing that this big, scary looking man could barely tell you that.
You give his lips a peck, then take his breath away when your tongue slides over his. He's so stunned he almost forgets to kiss you back, until he regains an inch of composure and starts licking and sucking at you.
"You're so sweet, Choso~" you smile over his lips before pulling away and dragging his hand down south. Your tiny hand encircles his inked wrist, barely fitting around the muscle of his forearm, and his fingers start twitching when you guide him under your skirt.
"Mm- warm-" he groans and slides his fingers over your bare pussy, parting you slowly, rubbing up and down. Despite his shy nature, he has got very good at touching you.
His hand parts your legs wider and his eyes dip up and down your clothed body. You look so pretty like this. His dark eyes focus on your face and you feel his fingertips edge into your entrance. Your expression starts to contort and your mouth hangs open. His breathing gets a bit shaky now, his eyes trained on your parted lips.
He sinks inside. Two fingers; ringed, thick and deep.
You shudder and his free hand caresses your back, steadying you on his lap as he presses his palm all the way to your pelvis.
"B-big-"
There's a pleased spark in his dull eyes and he bites his lip, feeling your silky, wet walls around him. He spreads his digits, opening you gently with your mouth gaping wider in tandem.
"Oh-"
You let out a little noise that encourages him to dip and curl his fingers. He finds his favourite spot inside you that makes his angelic girlfriend look like some kind of pornstar.
He massages you there with his fingertips, barely moving, feeling you grinding down on his knuckles.
"M-more-"
"Baby- I, I-"
"More, please-"
You should know better.
"I can't take it when you beg for me like that."
He holds your thigh gently and drags his fingers out, pulling them from under your skirt and oggling the slick juice all over his hand. Just from a few gentle movements you get like this. For him.
You watch lust completely take over and he sinks his fingers into his mouth, sucking every last drop of you off and leaving his digits coated in saliva.
He brings them back under your skirt and plunges inside you, hard rings nudging your entrance with every rough pump.
And he watches you scream.
Every time he slams his fingers into you his palm slaps your clit and you get sweet, jolting pleasure through your abdomen. You feel tense and hot and his thumb suddenly slips over your bundle of nerves, circling you quickly and making you cum hard and fast.
"Ch-cho - Choso-"
You pant for breath but his fingers are unrelenting.
"Again."
His voice sounds rough, deep and full of confidence.
It makes you quiver and shake and he grabs you more firmly, seeing your eyes go wide with shock when he picks you up.
He plants you on the fluffy carpet and kneels between your legs, pushing up your skirt to reveal his wet dream.
His fantasy.
"I love you"
You don't know if he's talking to you or your pussy but you really don't care.
He stares at all the gushing, clear liquid that's leaked all over your folds, over your thighs, dripping from one hole down to the other.
He sinks down and has a smile on his face, shoving his fingers back inside and toying with your clit with his spare hand.
He loves playing with you like this, adoring the look on your face every time you cum. He wants you to do it again and again, making you call his name, spilling more of your essence, all for him. He licks it off his fingers and hand like some thirsty beast and doesn't show any signs of slowing down.
But you knew what you agreed to. When Choso asks to touch you it usually is for a very long time.
He has to take you over the edge numerous times, obsessing over the feeling of you cumming and the way your face looks. And when your orgasms start to fade and you're just a wet, leaking mess with a hole spread wide from his greedy fingers, you have to take a few deep breaths and tell him to calm down.
He gets the message and slowly draws his fingers out one final time, tugging your hole with his thumbs and seeing you gape open. He bows his head down, sinking into your stomach where he presses soft kisses.
You play with his hair gently and he coos into your soft skin, telling you how much he loves you and needs you till you feel his hot tears running over your tummy.
You comfort him and tell him he did so well, until he dries his eyes and gives you a smile, bringing you up for a hug.
"W-won't get so carried away- next time- promise."
You hope he does. In fact, you're counting on it.
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choso | m.list
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astaroth1357 · 3 months
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I have long wanted to write a headcanon where high demons have lesser forms, so take a walk with me on this:
Imagine that the brothers are fighting with each other and one of them takes a serious hit, like, somebody's left hook got them right in the jaw and it was brutal. They fall to the ground, stone cold, and... just. Poof into a tiny little critter. Like a verison of their familiar. And they can't retake human form until they've rested and healed their wounds.
I'm doing that.
Lucifer becomes this fat-ass, little peacock. He's like one of those rotund Chocobo from the Final Fantasy universe, you just want to pick him up and squeeze him but he's slightly too heavy for that. His feathers are black, save for the tail which have black, red, blue, and green markings. If something makes him "Poof!" then he'll hide away in the Castle because he refuses to let his brothers ever see him in that state. MC can visit him, though, and he'll coo and get all fluffy whenever they pet his tummy.
Mammon turns into a three-eyed raven, but not fat like Luci. He basically becomes a bigger verison of one of his familiars, he's about the size of an eagle. For being the second strongest he gets "Poof!-ed" rather often because he gets caught up in so many fights. Most of the time, he's just a bystander then some stray shot hits him and suddenly he's squawking everybody's ear off! Hilariously, he's arguably smarter in this form so when he's stuck as a bird, his grades actually improve (if anyone can read his actual chicken scratch penmanship).
Levi becomes a snake. Duh. He has similar markings along his back to the colorful scales on his neck in his demon form. He isn't even the length of your average scarf, so MC can drape him behind their neck easily and he doesn't get in the way. He's absolutely MISERABLE like this, though, because he has no hands to play games with. He can get extra clingy to people if he's feeling cold, but MC has to invite him to share their body heat because he's too shy to signal what he wants.
As much as Satan would love to be a cat, he becomes a little unicorn (Sorry, I didn't make the lore). He's about the size of one of those miniature horses, but don't be fooled. He will snap your kneecaps and he's at perfect height to rear-kick his brothers right in the crotch. His coat is black but his tail, mane, and the underside of his horn are all his signature green. If he every gets "Poof!-ed!" he's big mad, so he'll spend the entire time trying to kick and spear his brothers so they have to suffer along with him. He's the cause of a lot of chain "Poof!-ings."
Asmo becomes the smallest, cutest scorpion you ever did see. Well, as cute as scorpions can be. His whole body becomes hot pink and he has the biggest widdle eyes (think those jumping spiders who wear raindrops on their heads type energy). He's also venomous as all hell, so his brothers HAVE to make sure that they continously call him "small, cute, and adorable" lest they suffer a week's worth of paralytic toxin. He can fit the palm of a hand and makes MC tie a little bow around his tail so he doesn't feel too bad about being under-dressed.
Beel, unfortunately, becomes a fly. A big fly (by fly standards), but a fly nonetheless. You wouldn't even know that it's him if he weren't traffic cone orange. Literally everyone panics when he gets "Poof!-ed" because it would only take some bozo with a swatter to put an end to the sweetest brother... Belphie never lets Beel out of his sight and even has a tiny leash so he can keep track of him if they have to go out. He's a lot easier to feed like this, but everyone has to resist that automatic urge to smack him away from their dinner plates.
Belphie ironically has the largest lesser form out of his brothers. He's a cow, more specifically a bull, but there's nothing special about him aside from the navy fur. He is a full grown bull and he loves to lord it over the others if they all get "Poof-ed!" at once. Also, good luck getting him to do ANYTHING in this form. He is a bull. If he does not want to move, he will not be moving. Not even Beel can carry him like this. He's the only brother who doesn't mind getting "Poof-ed!" all that much because of it.
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blackwaxidol · 1 year
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the scar Valin has on his jaw from when Drone had a muscle tremour shaving his face... the jagged black line along Drone's left palm where her blade cut into her silicone flesh so deeply it bounced off her titanium metacarpus.
#oc: valin#oc: drone#if she holds his jaw just the same way she did then she can see how the scars fit together.#after the Traveler was restored she allowed her Ghost to heal the flesh.#but only enough to restore severed neural and connective tissue to allow full movement of the digits once more.#the scar itself... she asked that she keep it.#i have this concept that a Ghost would not be able to use its Light to heal when the Traveler was caged.#it is a gameplay component obviously but i think it has no place in lore things. raises the stakes in a logical manner.#and i think it would make a tragedy out of Guardians so reliant on their Ghosts that they have no innate pain tolerance#bar the few moments in which they grapple with being bisected or gutted.#a very long time ago there was a post on here discussing a similar fantasy concept. an overreliance on healing magic or potions.#effectively exploring a more unpleasantly addictive element to it. i found it interesting.#this is not what i am getting at here but i am just pointing out what it reminded me of.#i think a Ghost feeling well and truly helpless if they cannot even heal...#it is what brought Eos—quiet and reserved soft-spoken unseen Eos—to flit about in such terror that had she a heart it would surely fail.#transmatting a few meters at a time as much as her power would allow#letting out a near incomprehensible short-range hastily-encrypted transmission asking of her fellow Ghosts#that one might have a strong and able Guardian to help bring 200lbs of dying weight to a medic.#her chassis is stuck in place by blood dried so thickly it is like tar.#Eos has always been a very tactile companion to Valin.#there is no hesitancy to her actions. when she expands her shell momentarily#and closes so that she catches his skin between the pieces of her hull like two magnets pinching your fingertip.#in that moment she remembers the Dorylus.#strange medicine—to coax an ant into biting around a wound. sealing it shut with their mandibles. decapitating the ant. jaws unrelenting.#she wishes she had better perfected her movements. she has never held Valin in such a way.#she gets a true sense for the fragility of organic matter. from where she is clamped on his wrist she swivels her electric eye to witness#the half of the wound she cannot close with her body.#found this in my drafts...#ask to tag.#injury
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matryosika · 5 months
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Untitled #9
Wordcount — 1,618 words
Includes — Fem!reader, mentions of contraceptives, unprotected vaginal sex. Dubcon elements (but it is all explained in detail), mentions/fantasies of creampies, use of petnames (baby).
Author's note — Just a little something! I've had this thought for a while now, and I wanted to put it out there. Despite the dubcon elements of it, I really picture both parties being super into it with full consent —for this, the male character just puts up a fight because he considers things risky, but deep down he wants it just as bad. With that in mind, read this if you have no problem whatsoever with some dubcon. If it's not your cup of tea, just scroll!
Just thinking about a forced creampie with Chan.
He had been pretty vocal about how badly he wants to fuck you raw and come inside you, but the overly-reasonable, almost persecutory part of him doesn't let him get loose. Whenever he thinks about coming inside of you, he can't help but also overthink everything that could go wrong.
“Maybe I just need a little push, you know?” He told you right after you asked him what was stopping him from fulfilling his fantasies. “I tend to get too into my head, maybe I should just- I don't know, go for it in the heat of the moment”.
But even in the heat of the moment, Chan holds back. The amount of self-control he has is crazy, so as much as he wishes to get loose, he never manages to do so on his own.
You come up with a plan, but you first make sure that he is on the same page as you —that he wants this just as much as you. So you ask him just that, and the response you get is enough for you to proceed.
“I think about it at least twice a day,” Chan confessed. “I mean, not a day goes by without me thinking about how pretty your pussy would look leaking with my cum”.
So you start off slow —first, you convince him to fuck you without a condom, fully raw. He pulls out every fucking time, much against his lust's will, but you don't mind. At least not when you can now feel every inch of him, every thickness of his veins and the warmth of his bulge. And now, he gets to feel you too —like fully feel you. From your soft walls squeezing his dick, to the sticky arousal that drips out of you.
It doesn't take long for him to get addicted to that feeling, though —despite him “wanting to take things slow”, he soon becomes obsessed and the idea of using a condom ever again is discarded by Chan himself.
So it all starts off with fucking you raw, and it eventually ends up one night with you offering that much needed push to finally allow himself go.
You're on top of him, straddling his lap while his cock reaches the deepest spots inside your pussy. You can feel him twitching inside of you, and if that isn't enough confirmation that he is seconds away from coming, the grimaces of pain and pleasure along with the veins popping on his temple and neck definitely are.
His hands are bruising your hips pretty bad while he guides your movements on top of him —roughly grinding yourself against him, squeezing your walls to provide him with the stimulation he needs to come.
“Just like that,” he groans biting down his lower lip with furrowed eyebrows and eyes closed shut, “come on, fuck yourself on my cock just like that. Make me come”.
Coincidentally, you're trying to do just that. So when he bents his legs against the mattress, and his hands try to push your body away from his, you don't stop.
“Baby,” he groans out your name, whincing in pain the longer he tries to hold his orgasm back, “'m gonna- fuck, I'm close”.
You lean down over his body, placing chaste kisses along his jaw and neck, “give it to me, Chan”.
He squeezes his eyes shut, just as his body stiffens underneath yours, “move, baby”.
“Inside,” you whimper, shaking your head into the crook of his neck. “Come inside”.
Chan's back arches a little, just as he struggles to maneuver your body, but it's all useless —he doesn't have the strength to push you away, and he doesn't want to.
“No, baby,” Chan hisses, gripping your hips as rough as he can. “I can't- please, let me pull out”.
“Come on, Chan,” you plead into his ear, biting his earlobe while your walls clench around his girth, “I know you want to”.
He lets out a painful, exasperated groan in an attempt to hold back the pent up tension between his legs —you can see he is really trying his best not to come.
“Please,” you leave one last wet kiss on his neck before straightening up your body, going from grinding against his cock to fully bouncing on it, “please, come inside me. I need it”.
Chan swears he is going to lose his mind. Between the feeling of your cunt clenching around him, the sight of your pretty body bouncing on top of his, and the lewd words and moans that are leaving your lips, Chan is sure he isn't going to last any longer.
“Let me pull out,” he tells you once again, with no intention of ever wanting you to stop. At this point, Chan still puts up a fight because he doesn't want to give in too easily. But honestly, he is not interested in winning that fight whatsoever, “'m gonna come, baby”.
You press your hands against his chest and increase the pace of your movements, forcing his body underneath yours while caging it with your legs on each side of his body.
His face is flushed, and the painful grimaces and groans he lets out can only warn you that he might not resist any longer.
“Come for me,” you insist, digging your nails on the flesh of his chest, “please, fill me up”.
At one point, he just gives in to his dirtiest fantasies and carnal pleasures. Who is he to deny himself? You're begging for something that only he can give you, and he fucking will.
So the painful moans turn into primal ones, instictual and animalistic. He opens his eyes and stare at you, his hands going from your hips to your neck, choking you ever so slightly as you ride him to his high.
Not only that, but his hips start fucking into yours from underneath —if he is going to come inside you, he is going to have it his way. Meaning he is going to be the one in control, not you.
Your whole body trembles at the unexpected thrusts, and it doesn't take you long to feel a warm, almost hot sensation filling you up.
“You wanted me to come inside you?” He asks through gritted teeth, snapping his hips against yours while your whole body goes limp. Chan hugs you tightly in place, preventing his dick from sliding out of you, “you better not fucking waste it, then”.
He milks himself inside you with each thrust, letting out deep grunts of pleasure in between.
“Chan,” you gasp when you feel his cum oozing out of your pussy and around his cock, all while he is inside you, “fuck”.
Even after a few seconds, he feels he isn't done yet —he is still throbbing and pulsating inside your walls, and he just can't stop shooting his cum into you. This is the first time he comes like this, and it is as painful as it is pleasurable.
“It's dripping out of me,” you murmur when he finally slows down, looking down to where your bodies connect —it's messy, but neither of you can begin to care. At least not when it feels this good to be filled.
Chan lets out a deep exhale, his chest moving frantically as he tries to catch his breath. He feels defeated, and weak, but at the same time he can't wrap his head about how good it fucking felt to finally let go, to be able to fuck you full of his cum until it dripped out of your tight hole.
So much so, that the idea of pulling out and coming anywhere else it's just not an option any more.
And just like he got addicted to fucking you raw, he might be addicted to stuff you full of his cum now too.
He just needed a little push.
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anantaru · 3 months
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thoughts on cockwarming and who loves it the most ?
including. neuvillette, diluc
cw. cockwarming, lots of teasing especially in diluc's part, petnames: love & baby, fem! reader
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— ꒰ NEUVILLETTE ꒱
a soft, enervated smile goes across neuvillette's tender lips as he sinks you down on him— and the way it happened all at once, how your walls latched on his shaft oh so strongly, oh so familiar that he found himself already lost in deep puzzlement.
for now, neuvillette doesn't move his cock in you, not an inch, nor does he necessarily want to either. ultimately, the man decides against showering you with his sloppy thrusts as he leans his face against yours gently to capture your lips.
tranquility shapes your mind that of joy as it manifested with the feeling of his body resting his weight on yours. your legs automatically wrap around his hips to keep him there as your cunt squeezes him ever tight, lures him in for more of that sweetness, the crushing compression of your sore walls gripping him so tight that he could barely keep up with his breathing.
oh yeah, neuvillette was losing his mind.
nails carving into the fat of your thighs, watching how you're turning delirious due to just how impossibly well he felt inside of you.
he groans out through a tensed jaw, knitted brows accentuating his pleasured face as he attempts to part his lips to voice something, a tender coo or loving praise on how nice you felt— yet unsurprisingly, all that really escaped in the end was a soft hum, a pleased one, one that turned your physical state into a myriad of emotions passing between you two.
"baby— i am," you babble out, definitely not expecting neuvillette to move anytime soon, "i'm gonna— s-soon," as you let go of a shaken whine that reverberated across the entire room.
your aching thighs were restless, hugging around his hips steadier as you exchange moans between each other, the rather lewd although sensual noises bouncing from mouth to mouth.
"does this feel good? please tell me, love," neuvillette mutters and he was so close to you that you felt his bottom lip scratch yours, "i need you to tell me," you shudder at his heavily raspy voice as he nibbles on your bottom lip.
for the better part of about five minutes, the iudex has got you wrapped around his finger, has conquered your mind effortlessly as the wet sounds between your legs only added to this, every wet squelch and throb having you whine uncontrollably.
but do not forget, because you know you're save surrounded by strong arms.
you can barely breathe with how thick and bulky his erection would throb in you, but you're utterly pleased by it, not wanting it any other way.
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— ꒰ DILUC ꒱
diluc wasn't even aware that he liked to be cockwarmed by you— although this much wasn't the end, because once he's actually experienced it for the first time, he'll drag it out one by one, keeping his cock buried without moving until you're practically unable to speak.
and while you might assume that he found himself fantasizing about you in his office. a lewd, little fantasy about his darling settling on his lap and cockwarming him during work— there was just something so, lets call it, special, about resting next to each other late at night, together exhausted from the passing day— his cock softly stored within your walls as you're exchanging serenity through kisses and fondles.
greatly stammering over his words, diluc presses your body against his frame as your sore nipples repeatedly scratch against his chest, resulting in you letting go of a soft, surprised squeal, "how does it feel, hm?" he slowly runs his digits over your thigh, leisurely, leading you on to do what he really wishes for, most likely to hear you whine out his name, sob and cry it for more.
without mincing words, diluc was a little nasty for that— but it was also so sweet when he smiled into your lips as you whisper out his name.
what else was important to note is that despite the fact that the two of you had been dating for a good while already, diluc simply cannot help himself but get slightly shy when making love to you, most definitely due to the fact that it was deeply saturated in passion, paving the way for something stronger.
you can feel the hearts in his unspoken language— in his kisses, his traces, the feeling of him throbbing inside to the squeezes of you.
see it this way— when diluc touches you, it's like something in the pit of your stomach turns wide awake and gets set aflame, in an instant, roaring flames of love conquering your body and mind.
the flames continuously grow and are persistent in your soul— and when diluc notices your yearning for him, the man could never hide his ultimate desire for you, he needs to catch it.
that truly was the pleasure of feeling the rush of loving you.
you hold on to his sweat-laced back, barring your fingernails into the damp skin before beginning to smear wet kisses all along his sharp jawline, a few of them smothering over his cheeks, and at last, finding his pretty lips again.
you're so wet, sore and thirsty for him to move already, but he doesn't, diluc needs to savor you more. his eyes never leave yours, only when he wanted to admire the mess he made of your warm cunt slicking him up all the way to the base.
you sniffle into his shoulder as diluc chuckles breathlessly, "a little more, my love—just a little longer," he promises before giving your breasts a good squeeze, full on knowing just how sensitive they had been getting.
even with diluc showing you more of his dominant side, he never fails to smile ever so gently, smiling wider and letting you see the light of his eyes.
perhaps it's actually his smile that awoke that unique feeling in you— for one, it was tender, glazed in molasses and popsicle sweet, with just a hint of mischief.
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©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify, claim as your own
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psychedelic-ink · 4 months
Text
ㅤㅤㅤ✦ 𝐇𝐄 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖𝐒
ㅤㅤjoel miller x f!reader x tommy miller
genre: smut, minors dni, no outbreak
word count: 2.7k
summary: joel knows you have a little thing for his younger brother so decides to indulge you for your birthday.
warnings: gonna state this very clearly: joel gets cucked by tommy and watches, everyone is consenting and it's discussed beforehand, piv, dirty talk, possessive!joel, daddy kink, size kink, established relationship between joel and reader, jealousy, some brotherly rivalry, facial, mild degradation kink, creampie
a/n: this work was commissioned through kofi by the lovely @losergurlsstuff, thank you so much for your support and thank you so much for this delicious idea, I had a blast! ❤️‍🔥
**gif made by the amazing @pedgito thank you so much dear!! dividers made my the talented @saradika-graphics 💜💜💜
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Everything has been amazing since you and Joel started dating. To you, he was perfect. The perfect man. The perfect partner. The perfect person. You are forever grateful to whatever god made your roads cross. You have no idea what you’d be doing without him. You’ve never felt so cared for in your entire life. What he doesn’t say with words he shows with what he does and today is no exception. 
“What do you want for your birthday?” 
You smile and shake your head, his head is laying right above your stomach, his one hand under your shirt, caressing the warm skin. “I have everything I need.” 
“Just tell me.” 
“I really don’t want anything, Joel. Especially not from you.” 
His hand on your skin stills, looking up, you giggle at the way he’s frowning. Shocked. 
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” 
“It means, you dork,” you lean and brush your lips against his forehead. “That you already give me everything. Being with you is enough.” 
Joel’s eyes narrow. A pleasurable shudder rolls through your spine, you adore it when he looks at you like that. It reminds you of all the times you pushed his buttons, resulting in a delightful time. 
“I have an idea what you might want.” 
“And what’s that mister know-it-all?” 
“Tommy.” 
“W—What?” Your heart sinks to your stomach, your palms suddenly cold and sweaty. His younger brother’s name was the last thing you expected to hear. Joel spreads his fingers across your waist, gently, he squeezes. 
“It’s a’right, sweetheart. I’ve been thinkin’ about it a lot and well, I think it might be a good gift for your birthday.” 
“I don’t understand.” 
You genuinely don’t. Also, he’s been thinking about it? The inside of your stomach feels like lead. It’s true that once upon a time you thought how it would be with Tommy—but that was before Joel. And after you two started dating well. . . sure maybe your eyes did linger a bit, maybe you leaned a little too close when he whispered something in your ear during a party. . . You genuinely thought Joel wouldn’t notice. 
“I haven’t asked him yet,” he says, thoughtful. “But I was thinkin’ of indulgin’ your curiosities.” 
You‘re still not quite sure what he means by that. Your guilt gnaws at the walls of your stomach. Joel gives you everything, yet you make him feel like he doesn’t. Your eyes move away, falling to the corner of the wall. You can’t bear to look at him. He deserves better. 
“Hey,” he says, hand cupping your jaw and pulling you back. “Don’t cry.” 
“I’m not crying.” 
“You look like you’re about to,” he cracks a small smile. “I don’t mind, darlin’. It’s just a fantasy ain’t it? I know that you’re mine.” 
“I am,” you say tearfully. “I am and always will be.” 
“And I’m yours. I just want to spoil you as best as I can, sweetheart. And this seemed doable.” 
“Why do you even think Tommy would agree to this?” 
“Oh he will,” he says with a grin that makes your cheeks grow warm. “Don’t you worry that pretty head of yours.” 
You nod but doubt still taints your expression. You don’t doubt Joel’s words, but no one can deny that this might be a bit odd. You’re not entirely sure Tommy will be on board. But you trust Joel, so you don’t question it. 
Despite all the doubt, and tension in your muscles, excitement slowly brews deep within you. 
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“Joel, I’m not so sure about this.” 
His head turns harshly to face his brother. There’s no way he’s backing out now, not when they were only inches away from the fucking bedroom door. 
Then again, he does understand. He’s ain’t stupid. But Joel had seen the way Tommy looked at you, the way his eyes would do a subtle sweep and linger on your ass whenever you walked out of a room. “I ain’t gonna suddenly choke you out if that’s what got your feathers ruffled.” 
Tommy shifts from one foot to the other. Joel’s not used to seeing his brother so deep in though. He fears that if he thinks a little harder he might break his brain. With a huff of breath escaping his lips, Joel throws a hand over Tommy’s shoulder and squeezes, drawing his attention. 
“Look, I’m gonna tell you the same thing I told her, if at any point you decide you don’t wanna do this, just say so and we’ll stop. No one is gonna get offended.” 
Tommy visibly relaxes at Joel’s words. He nods, lips a tight line. It reminds Joel when he taught him how to ride a bike when they were kids. He had the same expression.
“A’right then, now that that’s settled, let’s not keep her waitin’ anymore.” 
Without warning he opens the door and pushes Tommy in. If it was any other situation Joel would’ve laughed at the way Tommy tripped over his own feet. But his attention is immediately dragged to the bed you’re perched on. His mouth waters. He knew you were going to get dressed, well undressed in this situation, but he hadn’t thought about what you would put on. Joel’s eyes briefly flicker to Tommy, he seems just as in shock. It’s hard not to be with what you’re wearing. 
The fabric is a luxurious, deep blue, reminiscent of the darkest hours when the stars come out to play. The material is silky and smooth against the skin, offering a touch of elegance and comfort. And he would know. It’s his favorite damn set. Shimmering sparkles that adorn the fabric, mimic the stars scattered across the night sky. These sparkles catch the light of the scented candle you’ve lit, creating a subtle and enchanting glow.
Joel gradually meets your gaze. As soon as he does he knows you’ve done it on purpose. His lips quirk up, amusement growing in his eyes, you’d pay for this little stunt. 
“Wow,” Tommy exhales and takes a step forward. “You look amazin’ sweetheart.” 
You seem a little out of breath already, it’s going to be fun to watch you crumble. Though Joel isn’t quite sure how he feels about his brother being the one doing it. 
“Thanks,” you answer, unsure. 
There’s a lingering tension in the air and Joel almost rolls his eyes at them both. Almost. 
“A’right then,” he pushes Tommy until he’s at the edge of the bed and takes a seat on the chair he brought in this morning. “Stop bein’ shy now. Tommy, you’re her gift, are you sure you want to be the person responsible for her havin’ a shit birthday?” 
Tommy’s chest raises, “N-No.” 
“Then what are you waitin’ for?” 
“Jesus Joel, it’s not like I'm bringin’ her a new plant, give us a second.” 
Joel grins at the way he snaps and Tommy only shakes his head, turning to you and finally focusing on the right thing. You. 
Tommy tenderly presses both palms on each side of your face, thumbs moving in circles. Your nipples are already hard, he can see them like little diamonds showing up through the fabric. His fingers twitch. Patience isn’t something that he has, but he’ll try. For you. 
Your lips part with a soft gasp as Tommy finally brings you in, their lips brushing before full-on pressing against one another. Joel doesn’t miss the way your chest heaves. Your hands fist his shirt and Tommy tilts his head in response, Joel hears your little moans, his own cock gradually hardening under his jeans. 
Fuck, you look too good in that lingerie set. It’s hard just to sit and watch. 
“Take off his shirt,” Joel grunts, sounding more cross than he intended. You nod, but not without giving him a wary look first. When Tommy’s shirt hits the floor, the younger Miller roughly grabs your chin and turns your head so you’re facing Joel. His spine straightens. 
“You ain’t the one given’ orders,” Tommy says. “If you want me to make her feel good, you’re goin’ to shut up and watch, understood?” 
Joel’s mouth goes dry but he nods anyway. His eyes narrow as Tommy’s smile grows, his hand slips between your legs and begins to stroke you through your panties. Joel’s breath hitches, his gaze landing where you grow wetter and wetter. 
“Who’s in charge baby, tell him.” 
Your hips grind down to his hand, “You are.” 
“Well that wasn’t much of a challenge,” he chuckles, eyes finding Joel’s again. “Don’t you think you’re bad girl sayin’ that in front of your daddy?” 
Heat rushes to Joel’s cheeks, crimson spreading from his chest to his face. He wasn’t expecting Tommy to know that. A tingle he hasn’t felt before spreads from the base of his spine. His jealousy is starting to brew, but at the same time, it feels oddly nice to be helpless, even though he knows he isn’t. 
“Answer my question,” Tommy commands, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “Are you a bad girl?” 
“Y–Yes.” 
Your eyes roll when Tommy presses your clit, drawing rough circles, he smiles. “Tell your boyfriend who’s your daddy now?” 
Joel holds his breath. Beads of sweat coating his back. “You are,” he hears you say to Tommy. There’s a slight quiver to your bottom lip and every part of him wants to soothe you. 
But instead, his brother does. 
Tommy sucks your bottom lip into his mouth and kisses your deeply, his hands caressing the contour of your body. 
“Don’t worry,” Tommy says. “Daddy is goin’ to take care of you.” 
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You’re about to lose your mind. Your body is a flame and with each devastating snap of Tommy’s hips, your mouth drops open with a guttural moan. You’ve always assumed he’d be a gentle lover. Though you have a sneaking suspicion that Joel’s presence might be a solid reason why he’s tearing you and building you up over and over again. 
He positioned you so you’re staring at nothing else but Joel, you see how hard he is under his pants, the outline of his cock visible and making you gush all over Tommy’s cock. You want him in your mouth so bad but you know this isn’t that kind of game. Joel’s eyes follow the sway of your breasts, your bra ripped from you a while ago. You were completely naked except for your panties—Joel’s favorite and now Tommy is fucking you in it. 
Tommy reaches forward and grabs your throat, pulling you up so more of your chest is exposed. His cock is bigger than you imagined, nearly big as Joel. He pounds into you mercilessly, his length stretching you every day, reminding you whose cock is tearing you apart. 
“Does it turn you on that he’s watchin’ how wet you’re gettin’ my dick sweetheart?” With his question another fresh wave of slick drips out of you, tears build in your eyes, your insides left throbbing. His hips stutter, going balls deep, breath catching in his throat. “Fuck. Joel, she’s soaked— does she ever get this wet for you?” 
“‘Course she does,” he grunts, crossing his arms. You can’t tell if he’s upset or not, but the fact that Tommy doesn't have a broken nose already must be a good sign. 
Tommy leans into your ear, loud enough for Joel to hear. “Bet the old man can’t fuck you as well as I do.” 
You don’t answer. You can’t. Both of them are so good at this, and your head is in shambles. 
Tommy suddenly stops, and you’re a brink away from breaking down. A whine tears away from your lips. He releases your neck, you fall forward, only upright thanks to his hands holding your arms. “Answer me.” 
“You’re making me feel so good,” you say instead and thankfully, he doesn’t try to gauge a different response. His cock pulses, making you believe that was all he wanted to hear. Joel observes the two of you carefully. 
“Say it again baby, tell him how well daddy’s taking care of you.” 
“Daddy’s taking care of me,” you slur as his pace begins to pick up again. Each thrust makes you squeeze his cock like a vice. Liquid heat drops down your spine, your stomach clenching as he edges you closer and closer to your downfall. “J–Joel,” you call out without much thought and his dark gaze meets your own. “He feels so good.” 
“Oh fuck—” Tommy chokes and swiftly pulls out, prompting you to let out a disappointed whine. “Shit, baby, I’m gonna— fuck— bring your face here—” 
The back of Tommy’s head falls against the headboard and you quickly hurry towards him, your glistening cunt now in perfect view. You hear Joel taking in a sharp exhale. You part your lips, dipping down to take Tommy into your mouth but he stops it, holding you by the nape. “I’m gonna ruin that pretty face of yours,” he groans, forcing you down so your cheek would be pressed right below his pelvis. He starts stroking himself, fucking into his fist, and the sight is so beautiful that you lick one of his balls into your mouth, his back arches. 
Suddenly, he grips you even tighter and starts moaning loudly in harsh gasps, his hips thrusting uncontrollably against your face. He closes his eyes, losing himself in the sensation of you. You can feel him pulsing against your skin. You moan in response, feeling the rush of excitement as you open your mouth wider to take it all in.
“Tommy, please,” you breathe out, your eyes locked with his as he releases a stream on your face, covering your cheeks and lips with his release. You can feel yourself growing even more aroused as he continues to stroke himself, coating your face with his warm come. You whimper, the vibrations sending shivers down his spine as he lets out a final raspy breath.
“Fuck, baby,” he breathes out, his chest rising and falling heavily as he stares at you, your face damp and covered in his release. “You look so beautiful like this.”
You can feel your cheeks heating up, the intimate moment causing your heart to race in your chest. Tommy reaches out, gently wiping some of the come off of your face with his thumb before bringing it to your lips, letting you taste yourself.
“Fuck,” Tommy murmurs, his breaths coming out in short pants. He pulls you up to him, his lips crashing onto yours in a fierce kiss. However, while you’re lost in his mouth, you don’t realize the bed dipping with an added weight. You hear a clink of a belt and suddenly Joel is buried deep between your legs, his fingers rubbing tight circles around your clit. You gasp against Tommy’s mouth, the sensations becoming almost too much to handle.
“You didn’t make her come, idiot,” he groans, fucking himself into your deeper and deeper. Your eyes roll, your lips parting an inch away from Tommy’s face. Joel sinks his teeth into your neck, hips rutting into you without leaving you. His other hand playing with the elastic of your panties, you break down around him, your orgasm hitting you like a truck. “Mine,” he growls, acting as if the two of you are alone. “Mine, mine, mine—” 
Joel spills into you with a deep and visceral groan. There’s so much, his cock twitching and pulsing as he forces himself even deeper, claiming you as his. Doing something Tommy isn’t allowed to do. You shiver all over, your body weak with pleasure. 
He trickles down the inside of your thighs as he pulls out, falling back to his knees. You collapse onto Tommy’s chest and you’re surprised when you feel his hand on your neck, rubbing soothingly over your warm skin. 
Joel leaves a trail of kisses down your spine, “You were amazin’, honey.” 
“Such a good girl,” Tommy murmurs, though both of their voices feel as if it’s coming from a distance. Your eyes flutter closed, exhaustion taking hold of you. “Let’s get her cleaned up and tuck her in.” 
Joel presses his mouth against you one last time before heading to the bathroom. 
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jungkookstatts · 4 months
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Cherry Flavored
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[Summary]: Your biker boyfriend takes you on a joyride.
[Theme]: Established realtionship!AU, Biker!JK
[Rating]: 18+, explicit content, oral (f receiving), spitting, dom!JK, riding, creampie, spanking
[Word Count]: 5,498
[A/N]: The biker verse has come to me in the new year. So has covid. But biker fantasies heal me. Enjoy! (P.s. thinking of doing a Tae fic soon??)
“Just, hold onto me,” Jungkook smiles. It’s a toothy grin, one that would usually send butterflies of affection straight to your tummy. His lip piercings shine like the metal around his fingers and ears, catching the midnight glow of the street lamps against them.
“There’s no seat belt,” you exhale.
“Of course,” he laughs a little. Brown hairs fall over his forehead with the soft force of his voice. You’re too nervous to move them out of the way like you usually would right now. “It’s a motorcycle, baby. I’m your seat belt.”
You laugh in disbelief.
“Kook, I’m not sure—” you begin, but he stops you. Cold hands cup your cheeks, his nose inches from yours. You can smell cherries on his breath, left over from the cherry flavored lollipop he bought from one of the gum ball machines at the entrance of the diner you just ate at.
“Baby,” he kisses your lips once. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you, you know that.”
You exhale against his lips, knowing his words are true. But still, your mind can’t help but evaluate all the “what ifs”.
“I’ll go slow,” he smiles softly. “No games.”
“Promise?” You search his eyes. You know he isn’t lying. He’d never play with your safety like that. He loves you too much. Such an over protective boyfriend. A big teddy bear at heart despite the piercings, tattoos, and loud motorcycle he has to his name. He’d never do anything to harm you.
“I promise,” he kisses you again. “Do you trust me?”
“Yes,” you exhale. The boy smiles again. It shoves your nervous butterflies away and briefly replaces them with those affectionate butterflies you missed dearly.
“Good,” he kisses you deeper this time. You feel his pillowy lips against yours, sliding between your lips like they were made to be there. You almost grab his jaw to keep him against you. But he cuts the kiss short. The taste of cherries is left on your lips when he pulls away and grabs the spare helmet off the back of his bike.
“Put this on,” he hands it to you. It’s black and glossy and twice the size of your head. But you slide it on anyways, looking at your boyfriend through the tinted glasses of the helmet.
“How do I look?” You ask him.
Jungkook’s heart nearly flips. Who would have thought you’d be so cute with a helmet on? He did. You just confirmed it.
“Cold,” he settles with. Pulling of his biker jacket, he puts it over your shoulders. It’s night, and the air will only get colder once he starts riding. The jacket will provide extra protection if you fall, too. It’s thick exterior and interior act as a buffer against any surface. He doesn’t have a spare, but he’d risk himself for you on any occasion.
You slide the bulky sleeves up your arms, feeling slightly uncomfortable by the unfamiliar garment. It doesn’t really feel like a proper jacket, too stiff and thick to have on unless you were riding. 
“Now, the key is to just lean,” he puts his own helmet over his head, trying to refocus. You watch his tattooed fingers grasp the handle of the left side of his bike after he walks over to it. “And hold onto me. Tight.”
He swings a leg over his bike, situating himself. Cocking his head to the side, he signals to you to come over. You do as you’re told. 
With timid hands, you tightly hold onto his shoulder and hike yourself over his bike. It wobbles, and your heart skips a couple beats at the thought of falling. But Jungkook is calm, and you feel slightly reassured knowing he trusts the bike won’t do as you thought it would.
“H-How tight?” You ask, wrapping your arms around his waist. The softness of his t-shirt makes you feel better. Rather, the feeling of his body underneath your fingertips does. It’s soft and warm, but you feel the ridges of his abs as you test the tightness of your grip.
“Tighter,” he asks. You do.
He shakes his head. You see a wrinkle in his eye, knowing he’s smiling behind his helmet. With his rough hands, he grabs your own, tightening them himself around his waist.
“For dear life, Y/n,” he rubs your hands soothingly afterward. 
You nod, doing as he says. A raspy chuckle leaves his lips at the tightness of your grip. He pulls his biker gloves and his keys out of his pocket before putting them on. With a twist of his key, the bike comes to life with a loud roar, and you somehow grip him tighter. He wishes you could see the blush he has going on right now. It’s worthy of a few lines of humiliation you like to throw at him whenever he’s feeling flustered by you. 
“You ready?” He double checks.
You take a deep breath, telling him yes, which prompts him to lean the bike to the side and kick up the kickstand. He leans forward a little, and you move with him. With a flick of his wrist, you’re moving with him on his bike.
You feel the adrenaline pumping through your veins. The bike is moving! You’re gripping his t-shirt, probably some of his skin underneath, too, holding on for dear life like he instructed. 
“Kook!” You inhale, weary of the already fast approaching speed. Little do you know he’s barely made it to the local street speed limit.
“Trust me,” he tells you surely.
Looking at the sureness of his hands on the steering, the steadiness of his pace, you decide it’s time you really do. This is Jungkook. He wouldn’t let you backpack unless he knew he was sure enough to handle you as one, unless he knew you’d be safe with him as a rider. He’s been training for this moment. Never proposing the idea until recently, and you knew it was because he finally felt ready to be trusted with your safety.
You’re still a little nervous, but you’ve transferred most of that into your arms and hands. You hold onto him, wrapping your arms fully around his waist, leaning into his back as you let him guide you through the night. He’s guided you through many things in life. Your first tattoo, your first New Years kiss. Your first true love. You trust him with your soul. You love him with all of it, too.
Under his helmet, Jungkook smiles with content when you wrap your hands around him. You’re trusting him. He feels the weight of responsibility. But moreover, the excitement of showing you something he loves. Of showing someone he loves something he loves to do. Riding through the night with wind going against him. The motor of his bike propelling him forward as he rides under the stars. How he’s dreamed of taking you on one of his joyrides. Something in him knew you would like it. 
He goes faster, not daring to enter the highway on your first ride without your permission. But he goes through the local roads, hitting the exact speed of the speed limit given to him. Not going a unit over the number on the signs. You giggle when you realize, knowing the boy you hold onto usually does go a little over, even in the car. But the fact fills you with warmth that he wouldn’t dare play games with speed right now. Not with you on his back. 
After a certain point, you reach a red light, and he puts a foot on the ground to stabilize the bike at the stop.
“How do you like it?” He turns his head slightly to check in with you.
“I love it,” you smile. “I love you.”
His big heart skips, and he looks back at the time on the cross walk to see if he has enough time to kiss you silly from your confession. But you give him no time.
“You can go faster,” you scooch closer to him.
“You sure?” He looks back at you again. The red reflection of the light still beams on his helmet.
You nod. “Take me on the highway, Kook.”
Suddenly, the light turns green.
“Okay,” he shakes his head in disbelief. A small laugh erupts through his chest. When did you get so dauntless? “Better hold on, then.”
You squeal, doing as he says when he accelerates forward. He’s faster this time, still stable and not at all reckless. But the wind catches your clothes enough to know he’s going to do as promised.
The laughs that erupt from your body when he hits the highway is enough to solidify that he’s so totally going to kiss you so silly tonight. Maybe all night, if you’ll let him. 
He stays in the slow lane, going the minimum speed the highway gives, and yet you’re screaming joy and laughing relief out of your lungs as he guides you through the night. Just you and your biker boyfriend.
You trust him enough to take one hand away, letting your fingertips feel the wind of this summer night. But it’s interrupted after a while when Jungkook’s hand returns your own his waist. He pats the top of your palm a few times, telling you to behave, and you do. You hold him tighter, if that’s possible. Scooching closer to him as he finishes the ride off the highway.
The streets start to look familiar, the houses and street names ringing bells in your head. You’re sad to end the ride, honestly. Especially when he pulls up to his townhome, sliding into the parking spot right in front of it all a little too soon.
With steady hands, you sit up from your leaned position, still holding his waist, as he turns off the bike. Jungkook pulls off his helmet, brown messy hair falling around his ears from the release of the protective gear. There’s a bit of sweat forming at the base of his hairline, and you almost went to kiss it if it weren’t for your helmet. Before you can take it off, the man is already standing up, positioning himself in front of you to pull it off himself. You swing your leg around the bike, leaning your feet against the pavement as you stay seated. He stares down at you, tall and handsome as he awaits your approval.
“Well?” He tugs his lips upward. The piercings on his eyebrow dance as he raises it.
“I loved it,” you candor. “I kind of want to suck your cock right now.”
He laughs, crinkled nose and all. That nose nudges with yours when he kisses you. It’s slower than the pecks from before, when he was coaxing you into the joyride with him.
“That much?” He laughs. Those rough hands of his help you stand, the reminder of chest against yours only makes your heart flutter more. “Should have taken you sooner, then.”
“It was perfect, Kook,” you hold his jaw. “I really loved it.”
He looks at the stars in your eyes. The overwhelming presence of you in his biker jacket, holding his spare helmet in one hand and his jaw in the other. God, could you be any more perfect? He doesn’t know what to do with himself.
So he leans into you, holding the back of your neck as he sears his lips onto yours. He’s still cherry flavored, and you can taste it surely when he dips his tongue into your mouth. You envelope it warmly, kissing him with all the love you have. Except you wish you could feel more of him, have his skin against yours. You want the hand that holds his helmet to hold your waist. For your own hand that holds his spare to run through his hair. You want to be on his lap, to look at him from above, sweaty hair and brown eyes. 
He seems to read your mind, detaching your lips only slightly when he whispers against them, “Do you want to go in?”
You nod, watching him smile knowingly. It’s one of those smiles he gives when he’s shy, when he feels bashful and is receiving more attention than he’s used to. It’s one of his cutest smiles to-date. The desire to jump his bones is stronger than it’s been all night.
You follow him as he walks up to the door. He takes your helmet from his hand and balances it on his finger like he does with his own. The key turns, and the smell of his apartment fills your lungs. It smells like him. Like man, but better. A strange thing to think about, as you never associated “man” with smelling good. But he does, somehow. He smells like home. 
You follow in suit, taking your shoes off as he does the same when hooking your helmets on his biking rack next to his door. You lock it for him, and he smiles back at you in a quick thanks.
Quickly, you tread in front of him, becoming taller as you leave him in the shoe divot in front of the door.
“So does this mean you’ll let me take you on a few of my joyrides, then?” he asks you.
“You can take me on all of them if you want to,” you promise.
He comes up to you, destroying the height confidence you had from before when he steps up from the shoe divot.
“I love you,” he cups your jaw with both of his hands this time. Puffy lips connect with yours, they’re hot and slightly damp, firmly kissing you. Passion presses your back against the wall, his frame engulfing your body in love and lust as he kisses you. You can only return the favor, sliding your hands up his clothed chest. He breaks his grasp on your jaw when your hands slide around his neck, prompting him to replace his hands underneath your thighs instead. With no effort at all, as if you weigh a feather in his strong arms, he lifts you around his waist.
The new angle allows you to kiss him deeper, your hand securing around his neck and shoulder. Big hands hold your waist and back. He walks with you, messing around through his apartment, taking you to his bedroom by pure muscle memory as he’s too distracted by the smell your clothes against his skin to focus on anything else. 
For a second, his hand leaves your back to push open his door. The lamp on his bedside table is still on, something he forgot to turn off when he left to meet you at the diner with your friend and her date earlier.
Gently, almost as if you were made of glass, he lays you on his sheets. You still have his biker jacket on, and he swears it’s never looked better on anyone else.
“Biker looks good on you,” he says, admiring you from above.
“Want me to leave it on?” You suggest, an eyebrow raise up at him.
You visibly see his cheeks turn red, and you have your answer before he can even say it. 
“You don’t have to,” he denies. But you’re already sliding it off, taking your shirt and bra underneath before bringing the jacket over your shoulder again and zipping it up halfway.
He looks at you, bewildered and so terribly infatuated before he hides his face in his palm and groans. He’s so unbelievably flustered and he doesn’t know what to do with himself.
“You’re going to kill me, Y/n,” he muffles in his hand. 
You almost say something, but he’s already trapping your frame underneath his, searing his lips onto the skin of your neck. He bites and sucks at your skin, marking you in his purple and blue love bites. You can’t get enough, tilting your head for more, which he gladly gives you.
You pant lustfully in response when he hits your sweet spot. His lips are delicate at first when he comes across the territory he’s memorized so well. But you know better than to think that he’d stay that way. Not when he knows how it causes you to slide your hands in his hair and pull at his scalp in the way he likes best. Not when he knows you’ll react with the breathy moans he loves so much that flow from your lips at the slightest kiss. So he does just that, feeling your back arch into his chest and your fingers tangle in his hair when he plays with your pleasure. 
“Jungkook,” you flutter. His lips feel so good, like they were made to make you feel like this. 
He kisses down your neck, coming to the base of the zipper you left done halfway up the jacket. Slowly, he unzips it, watching the fabric part ways as gravity takes it to the sides of the bed. The jacket doesn’t completely reveal your breasts though, so he takes matters into his own hands and cups them from underneath.
His stare makes you feel shy, and you inhale sharply when his thumbs brush over your nipples slightly. The reaction makes you even more shy, and you cover your mouth with the back of your hand to hide the small moans that leave your mouth.
“So pretty,” he looks up at you. 
You tug at the rim of his t-shirt, begging him to take it off as you lay open chested below him. He only chuckles at the realization, seeing that he’s still fully clothed, way too preoccupied with you to take care of himself.
He does as you ask and more, tugging off his t-shirt and his jeans, leaving him in only his boxers. You feel a wave of slick come through your panties at the sight. Tattoos and muscles stare back at you. You try to ignore the halfy he’s sporting in his boxers, a pure reminder of the activities you wanted to give to him as a thank you for taking you for a ride on his bike.
But he’s quick to turn you down when you sit up to do just that, hiking his fingers under your pants and sliding them down along with your underwear. He throws them somewhere on his floor, falling to his knees to admire you.
“Oh honey,” he marvels at the sight, sliding a slender finger gently up your folds. “You’re soaked.”
You whimper against the back of your hand.
“I-I wanted to suck you off,” you protest, placing a hand on his wrist. Not because you necessarily want him to stop, but because you were scared about how good his touch feels already. “As a thank you.”
“What for, baby?” He stops playing with you, his spare hand cups your thigh. Soothingly, his thumb rubs against your skin, waiting for your answer. 
“For letting me ride with you,” you respond.
“You don’t need me to thank me for that, sweetheart,” he smiles gently. “I’d allow you to ride with me any time you want. I need to thank you for trusting me enough to want to,” he takes your hand in his. Those big doe eyes capture yours, asking for permission with stars in his eyes. “Will you let me?”
Fuck, will this man be the end of you. Of course you will, you’re basically leaking infront of his face.
You nod, and he shyly smiles again. The hand that had previously slipped up your folds springs to life again. This time, it circles your entrance gently, causing you to whimper into your skin. Hot lips envelope your clit, his tongue playing with you softly.
“K-Kook,” you gasp at the feeling. He only hums, his eyes closing when he applies more pressure into your leaking heat. The vibrations from his moans against your clit cause you to arch your back, your head falling back against the sheets when his fingers play in tandem with his tongue. They tempt over your cunt, circling your hole and gathering your juices just enough to make you go crazy.
He detaches his mouth for a brief moment, his lips covered in your heat, red with lust, as he watches you squirm when he replaces his thumb with his tongue over your clit. His mouth always does wonders, but something about his thumb against that ball of nerves makes you clutch onto your orgasm for dear life. It’s firm against you, not too harsh, but just enough to make you feel all of it when he circles it slowly underneath his thumb. Jungkook pulls your hips closer to the edge of the bed, completely in control as you let him thank you. He watches you carefully as he inserts a finger into your aching pussy, seeing how you gasp and grab onto his wrist. But he’s stronger than you, and you’re fully aware of that. You also don’t want him to stop—your grasping onto him a mere reaction for support.
“Does that feel good, baby?” He asks you. He’s so gentle, always so cautious at first. You know at one point he’ll become a sex demon and ram you into the sheets. But he’s being a sweetheart right now, wanting to coax an orgasm or two out of you first. He does it right.
“Mhm,” you solidify. Your answer is weak, too taken over by the sliding of his finger against your walls. 
“Do you want my mouth?” He asks. You know he’s asking permission, well too aware that the combo is a recipe for an orgasm.
“Y-yes, please,” you give it to him.
He chuckles at your polite response, although it takes over his desire in ways that he’s struggling to control. You’re just so sweet to him, always so perfect in every way. He couldn’t ask for anything more. You’re perfect. And you’re his. 
He replaces his thumb with his mouth again, this time moving faster than before. His pace quickens, and he adds another finger to your dripping cunt. The feeling makes you dig your fingers into his hair, pressing him against your pussy. It gets him high, moaning against your cunt shyly as he curls his fingers against your g-spot.
“Jungkook, m’ gonna cum,” you whine into air. Both your hands secure his head on your mound, as if he’d leave before you finish.
He feels you clench around his fingers, so damn tight his cock twitches in his boxers embarrassingly. But he ignores it, taking his mouth off your cunt to give you his thumb again. The change makes you arch your back, the coil in your tummy slowly unraveling beneath him.
“There you go,” he coaxes you. “Good girl.” 
You gush at the nickname. White heat flows around his fingers, and he replaces them with his tongue as you finish against his lips. The sensation is almost too much, your over sensitivity making you whimper and close your thighs around his head to stop him.
“K-Koo,” you whine. “Sensitive.”
He finishes up at your request, swallowing your release sweetly. He leaves you gently to stand up, tossing his boxers somewhere on the floor. You’re left to catch your breath, an arm over your eyes as you gasp into the air of his bedroom. Only when you feel his familiar frame tower over you again do you look up. You’re met with a sweaty man with wet lips and a lovestuck smile plastered on his features.
“You okay?” He kisses your forehead.
“Mm,” is all you have the strength to say.
You feel his thumb pry your mouth open.
“Open for me,” he asks you anyways. You mewl when you see him gathering spit in his mouth. He transfers it to you rudely, and you feel you might just cum again from the sheer force of it. He’s so hot, you feel overwhelmed.
You feel it enough to gain the strength to flip him over when he’s off guard, straddling his hips with his biker jacket on your shoulders.
“What’s this?” He grabs your waist. God, you look so good in his clothes.
“Let me give you a ride this time, Kookie,” you suggest.
He swears he’s never heard anything hotter in his life. It makes his dick leak with precum, your suggestion paired with his favorite girl in his favorite jacket ontop of him.
Your soft hands lay on his chest for support as you lift up your hips. He helps you, grabbing your waist with his big hands. You grab his cock, so big and just for you, lining it up with your wet cunt. You slide it in with a small gasp of your lips, and you swear you see his eyes roll back slightly at the feeling.
“Oh,” you softly gasp as he fills you up. The stretch is so good from this angle, filling every inch of your walls up to the brim. You feel all of him, and he can feel all of you, too. You know it with the way he grips your hips, telling you to give him a minute when you reach the base.
You give him just that, before you test the waters again and start a pace. 
“Fuck,” he tilts his head back. You riding him is an entirely different sensation, his thighs slack and your ass bouncing on his cock as you use him for pleasure. You feel so good, you always feel so good. So perfect for him. 
“Koo,” you mewl as your hands plant for support just below his rib cage. Your hips move perfectly, bouncing on his cock like it’s your day job. It’s exhausting, but it feels too good to stop. You won’t until it’s too much, until you can’t do it anymore.
You see why Jungkook likes to be on top most the time. The view from this angle is sickening. You see the sweat coming down from his scalp and neck. It begs to make entry into his forehead, and you hope at one point it does. Brown hair flops and lays over his skin and the sheets blow him. His Adams apple bobs every time he moans and swallows. You see every scar, mole, and blush this man presents to you. You feel entirely privileged that he is all yours.
He catches you staring, his big hands that you love so much cup your thighs on either side of his hips.
You feel sweaty in his jacket, already knowing it probably smells like sex and sweat already. You feel flush from the heat, and he seems to take note, coming up to hug around your waist with one arm and push off the jacket with the other. His legs dangle over the edge of the bed, supporting you on his lap as the jacket falls to the floor.
“So pretty,” he hums against your lips. His cock throbs inside of you, and you beg for friction, pushing your knees against the mattress and sliding up and down ontop of him again. “You like this, huh? You like fucking my cock?”
“Yes,” you whine against his neck. You feel like a horny teenager, unable to get enough of the man beneath you.
“So needy, baby,” he helps your pace with his hands on your hips. It’s quicker, making you dig your fingers into his scalp as you moan against his neck. “You like riding me? Tell me which one you like to ride more, my bike or my cock. Hm?”
“Y-You,” you respond almost immediately. But he doesn’t seem to like your answer, his hand landing a harsh slap against your ass that causes you to dig your nails into his shoulder.
“I can’t hear you, baby,” he kisses your neck.
You somehow muster the strength to face him again, your hips changing direction slightly to rock back and forth against him. It makes your cheeks feel numb and your fingers tingly, his dick pressing against your g-spot so delicately.
You nudge your nose against his, his cherry flavored lips ever so slightly touching yours.
“You,” you repeat. “I like to ride you more than anything.”
That seems to do it for him, your short ride of dominance ended as his lips take you over. He kisses you until he’s got you in your back again, his body obsessed with your own.
“So perfect for me,” he kisses you. “Let me fuck you good, yeah? My perfect baby.”
You can only nod, ready to come back to your throne as pillow princess. Your boyfriend takes your thighs, hiking them up around his back before he rams into you.
He fucks you like he’s in heat, needy and overwhelmed. His tip hits you in all the right places, causing you to arch your back into his chest. You scratch at his tattoos, chanting his name against his neck as he makes you feel good over and over again.
“J-Jungkook,” you gasp. You try to say your words, but you’re hit with euphoria with every thrust he delivers into your body. “Koo, I-“
“I know, baby,” he shushes you, a kiss to your cheek. “Just cum for me, hm?” He suggests.
“C-Close,” you tell him. The man seems to know your body more than you know it yourself, his lips reattaching to your sweet spot so delicately, it doesn’t match up at all with the way his hips piston into you. “Jungkook,” you gasp when he sucks there. The familiar feeling in the pit of your stomach returns, and you feel warm throughout your entire body.
With his hair in your face, lips on your neck, and hands caging your body beneath his, you tighten around his cock, unraveling for the second time underneath the man above you.
You feel him twitch, knowing he’s not that far behind you. He moans so sweetly against your neck when you tighten around him, his hips losing rhythm as you cum on his dick.
“Sso tight,” he groans against your neck. “I-Is inside okay?”
“Y-Yes,” you sigh against his ear. You’re so fucked out, so obsessed with him. You really don’t know if there’s a request out of his cherry lips you can deny.
“Oh, ah—“ he grips the sheets, balling them up in his fists. “M’ gonna cum.”
You simply run your hand through his hair, gripping it strongly as he thrusts harshly inside you. It overstimulates you, and you pant his name against his scalp as his seed spills out of you in hot, thick ropes. His moans are like music to your ears. So breathy and sweet. You swear you’ve never heard anything more lovely in your life.
The two of you calm down, your sweaty bodies absolutely filthy with summer night air, the smell of motorcycle exhaust, sex, sweat, and cum. It starts to make you cringe after a while. Ever the attentive one, your boyfriend notices and comes up from his place by your neck.
He gives you a soft smile before pecking your lips gently.
“I’ll start the shower,” he offers, pecking your lips again.
You let him leave you for a few seconds. Feeling cold and bare, you get up and search for your clothes. But you’re unable to find them, probably kicked somewhere underneath the bed. You only see Jungkook’s t-shirt and his jacket from before. So you slide the t-shirt over your head, feeling giddy again with the smell of him engulfing your senses.
With sore legs and an aching core, you walk over to the bathroom, hugging your man from behind like you did on his bike just an hour ago.
“This is my favorite part,” you start, holding him tighter.
“Hugging me?” He asks.
“Mhm,” you confirm.
You feel him laugh a bit in your arms, turning around in them only to poke at your frown.
“I like to hold you close. Especially when you go fast suddenly and I get a little scared,” you look up at him.
The shower mist fills up the mirror, and the heat lulls you into the feeling of sleepiness his aftercare always gives you.
“I never want to scare you,” he kisses your forehead. “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” you lean into his palm, his hand holding your face close as he kisses your swollen lips softly.
“Now, let’s get you cleaned up,” he cups your hips.
You open your eyes, watching him eye the shirt you’re wearing.
“Seriously, baby, you gotta stop wearing my clothes,” he slides his t-shirt over your head. “It’s doing things to me.”
“Maybe tomorrow I’ll wear your biker suit then,” you wiggle your eyebrows.
“Now that would murder me.”
***
[End. Do not copy. Original work of @jungkookstatts , 2024]
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silkscream · 4 months
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blessing
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ੈ✩ yuuta okkotsu x reader
ੈ✩ cw: smut (minors dni, ageless + blank blogs will be blocked), unprotected sex, soft dom!yuuta, dacryphilia, oral sex, overstimulation, delayed orgasms, he's a little mean, slight yandere vibes because. it's yuuta.
ੈ✩ wc: 1.1k
ੈ✩ a/n: i'm on my soft dom!yuuta agenda. i also can't write him without feeling fucking insane
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yuuta okkotsu is a gentleman. he holds the door open for you, gives you his jacket when you’re cold, has your ramen order memorized. everything about him is gossamer-soft, too. the cadence of his speech, the lithe way he moves, even though his lankiness has been replaced with lean muscle since you first met him.
yuuta okkotsu is gentle. just not when he fucks you.
it’s ironic, though, because his tone is still gentle. the rasp of his voice is low, quietly masculine, haunting, but still full of adoration. it’s alluring more than anything. he reminds you of the vampires you used to lust over from your childhood fantasy books. dark hair, dark eyes.
the essence of him is unfathomable to you — you can’t find the word for it, but it’s something akin to eve’s apple. how tempting he is, how much you’d let him ruin you, bruise the fruit of your flesh with his teeth.
he tells you to open your mouth. at the moment, he’s in between your legs, mouth slick with your cum, and he reaches to set his fingers onto your tongue. a small push and you choke on the taste of yourself.
it’s dirty. but when it’s yuuta, it purifies you. makes you his angel. you believe him like a god when he tells you as such.
“so sweet, don’t you think?” he murmurs. “my sweet girl. the best girl, yeah?”
“yes,” you cry.
he’s coaxed at least three orgasms from you in the past hour with his mouth and fingers alone. with bliss also comes pain, and the way he coos your name and calls you his good fucking girl feels like a divine reward in itself. he licks your tears, pride swelling in his chest.
“how about another for me, huh, baby?” he bites into the meat of your thigh as he circles your clit with his fingertip again, chuckling at the way you shake.
“i—i can’t."
“can’t?” yuuta raises a brow. he looks beautiful in between your legs. there’s something oddly terrifying about it despite how beautiful. “i know you can. i know you will.”
“yuuta, please—”
“you’ve done it before, haven’t you? usually take whatever i give you, every fucking time, right?”
“s’too much,” you sob.
he tuts. rounds his full lips into a taunting pout.
“want my cock, then, don’t you? poor girl, you should’ve just asked.”
(you couldn’t have. you know better.)
“please, please—”
you don’t even get to finish begging before he’s buried inside you. pushed to the hilt, his tip kissing your cervix with bruising force. he wipes away your tears as if he isn’t the cause of them.
“too rough?”
“n-no.”
but it hurts. it hurts in the way it feels too good, too sensitive after the amount he’s made you cum. he hasn’t even been inside you for a full minute and you already feel the ache in your abdomen ready to burst into flames.
the sweet nothings he whispers into your temple are loving and affectionate, but the way he rolls his hips into you is mean. he has his hand snake up to squeeze your breast, nicking your nipple with the grit of his teeth just so he can hear you mewl like a wounded kitten. it’s one of his favorite sounds.
his palm settles on your neck after, gentle still despite his other hand nearly bruising the fat above your hip.
he knows you’re close from the way your eyes blank out, glazed over in bliss as he tightens his hand around your throat.
“close, baby, i’m—”
and then the bastard stops. chuckles against your jaw at the way you cry as he thrusts into you so agonizingly slow. unsteady. taunting.
“yuuta!”
“’m sorry baby, did you wanna cum? i just thought you wanted me to hold out for longer. it’s nice like this, see?”
“fuck, yuu—”
“that’s not very nice,” he grins. he ruts into you extra hard, just once.
“that’s not what i meant,” you whine.
“wanna cum? just ask.”
you know you can’t just ask. you know he means he wants you to beg.
“pleasemakemecum, please, please!”
“yeah, why should i?”
“’cause ‘m your girl,” you slur. he loves you like this. wet mouth all slack, cheeks flushed like a nymph in a baroque painting.
he pulls out, then, drawing out another moan from you, just to flip you over onto your stomach. your hair is bunched up into his fist while his teeth are on your shoulder. when you feel him again, your walls full of him, you feel even dizzier than before.
“yeah, my good fucking girl,” he groans against your skin. “so good. so sweet to me.”
yuuta has never been an apostle of hedonism. he’s always reserved himself, the parts of him that wanted, thinking that his love and devotion would only curse other people.
when you came along and loved him so irrevocably, he felt reborn. drunk on pleasure. being with you makes him realize that it’s okay to take. he deserves it, doesn’t he, after everything?
you have him on a leash and you don’t even know. it’s why he likes to play with you so cruelly like this — to have his cake and eat it, too. because the way he controls you in the oasis of your bedroom, the way he marks you up and swallows you down like honey — it’s what you want as much as him. and he’d rather die than not give you everything you want. even if he’s a little mean.
if he was a curse of a boy, you were his blessing.
“yuuta, i’m gonna cum,” you gasp. as you clutch the bedsheets, he covers your hand with his, engulfing it, entangling your fingers together. “cum with me, please—”
he wants to open his mouth to speak, anything to push you over the edge, but he’s as breathless as you are. consumed in your skin, in your cunt. he pulls your face toward his, instead, swallowing down your moans as he spills inside of you. you convulse, your orgasm like a lightning strike.
yuuta laughs softly against your mouth and soothes the bruised parts of you with his palms gently.
“you were so mean today,” you sigh.
“i’m sorry, baby,” he says, nuzzling your neck. “had a bad day, but i feel much better now. let me run you a bath, okay?”
you hum dreamily as your lover leaves you. the fuzz in your head satiates you. empty-minded except for him. and when he has you in warm water, hands washing your wet hair, yuuta feels blessed. baptized in tenderness.
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stararch4ngelqueen · 5 months
Note
I just realized that we've never talked about anything like "morning wood" scene where reader wakes up first and sees her man's cock rising. (i can't choose between jason or simon)
Why not both 🧍🏽‍♀️
I only have strength to do character inclusive before hat man takes me. Please enjoy ❤️✨
🎩 🤺
Time Written - 9:07 p.m
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The hour was early, the sun non existent in the skies just yet, but it’s presence would soon accompany the beautiful violet-tangerine clouds merging into dark, dull gray.
Your beloved still has his arm snugly wrapped around your waist, his thumb nudged just underneath the hem of your large shirt, mindlessly rubbing along soft skin. The best parts of waking up in the mornings weren’t just waking up alongside your personal body heater known as your muscly teddy bear, clutching you close like said plush toy.
Half of the time, it’s the not so subtle surprise pressed up against your lower back and rear when your mind pokes out of sleep, making it even more difficult for you to get comfortable again after being painfully aware of it.
Most of the time when it occurs, as does the ache in your lower tummy bloom; a need for him, an eager response of your body towards his.
He’s blissfully unaware of how hard his cock had gotten, too lost in the throws of sleep while clutching you close like a doll. It’s the rare occasion he slept with you a full night instead of coming home in the early hours of the morning or the middle of the night. The rare occasion where civil duties weren’t needed or expected from him, having him all to yourself.
While he appreciates coming home to a hot meal and a warm bed after a long patrol, it wasn’t enjoyable without you in the sheets with him. His body surely expressed just how much he had missed you.
You wondered what he might’ve dreamed of right this very moment. Was it an innocent, mindless walk in the park or the beach with you during a warm sunset? Or, was he living through a fantasy of burying his thick cock in between your plush thighs? Holding your head down against his own pillow while breeding your needy little cunt?
Whatever the cause, it left you quivering with a growing need to find out.
Your natural curiosity had you reach your hand behind you, brushing along bare skin of his lower torso where his tank top had ridden up, resting your fingers along his outer hip. Trailing along his lower waist, you shuffled your hips just a bit until you prod along your desired goal.
He emits a content little groan after a faint hitch in his breath, a soft sound that only lasts for a few moments. Satisfied with the result, your hand gives a soft squeeze along the pleasantly warm length, comfortably hidden from you under thick, navy fabric.
His breathing starts to slow down as soon as you start to move your fingers. Slow, teasing little squeezes just along the blunt tip, massaging down the length of his cock. How it irked you to brush your thumb along his sensitive underside, making your mouth water and your thighs slightly clench.
“Morning, hun.” His voice is hoarse, letting out a short yawn. He still keeps his arm around your middle, burying his face into your sweet hair after you settle with the startle of him waking up without your knowledge.
You turn, your loose shirt slightly twisted by your movements as you face your sweetheart, taking in his adorably tussled hair and sleepy eyes boring into yours.
His smug, little semi smirk lets you know that he might not be entirely surprised by this circumstance. He doesn’t seem embarrassed or ashamed by this either. He seems more amused than anything, especially since his favorite girl could do something about it.
You press a soft kiss against his lips, one that left him confused when he attempted to lean for more before you abruptly pull away. He whispers your name in question, lightly surprised when you kiss the corner of his mouth, down his chin, underneath his sharp, lightly stubbled jaw.
“So it’s that kind of morning, huh?” He questions, his Adam’s apple bobbing after you kiss it, his voice still raspy from sleep.
“Mhm,” you hum, your fingers eagerly slipping just underneath the hem of his sweatpants. He contentedly sighs, letting you have your fun now that he knows you’re in one of your playful little moods.
Kissing down along his chest, following the roadmap of his main scar down towards the rich, dark happy trail that peaked out of his sweatpants.
His breath hitches at the touch of your hands squeezing him through the damn fabric barrier, and he finds it’s a little bit harder to keep his cool at this stage. You can really do that to him, and it’s like nothing can ever compare.
“What’s gotten into you, sweetheart?” He amusingly murmurs, his voice still soft and husky.
Should be you, soon enough. You wanted to say back, but pursed your lips to prevent saying it. He knew; he beat you to it merely two damn seconds after he asked it.
It would be a shame to make a mess on such cool toned, dark gray silk sheets. Freshly washed, too.
He’s trying to resist as much as he can, but you’re just excitingly relentless when it comes to getting what you want. This morning, it just happens to be him.
“You tryin’ to ruin me already, aren’t you?” He chuckles, a handsome, rugged sound that shoots arousal down your spine.
“Mhmm,” You hum, starting to pull down the waistband just enough. His swollen, eager cock quickly greets you, hot and heavy in your hand, the tip practically weeping for more of your touch. A heavy, glistening bead trickles down the blunt head, perfectly caught along the tip of your tongue to taste him.
Settling perfectly snug against his legs, curled perfectly per comfort, you trail your tongue under the head, lapping along that particular spot that garnered a beautiful reaction outta him. His head tilted back against his pillow, brows scrunched from light ripples of euphoria, fists lightly clenching along blankets tossed aside.
“Shiiit… really ruinin’ me, sweetheart.”
You stop for a second, smiling a bit while rolling your thumb close to the base. “Should’ve specified.”
He lets out a soft snort, expressing his affection through amused chuckles and heart eyes through a heavy lidded gaze.
This morning is already off to a great start. He’s trying to think of a way to one-up you, but he honestly is just too tired for all of that.
You barely had just a bit of him in your mouth, providing such simple kitten licks, and he displayed such heavenly responses that bloomed your ego to wonderfully high levels.
Then again, you seem to be up and about already, so maybe he’ll have to put in some effort after you pamper him. You’ll quickly enact upon what he so eagerly desired to reenact from his dream; properly face fucking his sweetheart. Glossy lips pressed against his pelvis while bullying himself deep down your throat, further fueled by those obscenely filthy chokes he adored so much.
A well deserved throatfuck for such an adorably sassy mouth.
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honeybleed · 3 months
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— ★ TRYNA THREEWAY WITH HIS ROOMIE // JEAN KIRSTEIN & CONNIE SPRINGER
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content & warnings: fem!reader, reader is kinda ditzy bimbo x sunshine, modern au, reader, jean and connie are all in their mid twenties, jean and connie are roommates, reader is in an established relationship with jean but connie has a crush on her, porn no plot, smut mdni (breastplay, groping, oral. f & m receiving, piv protected sex — backshots from connie lawl, cum swallowing, degradation — connie n jean both kinda mean calling reader a whore n slut but not overboard, they both compete during it) look at them 😵‍💫
author’s note: fine, i’ll do it myself cos some of yall forgot jean and connie are best friends! also this is just kinda smutty so not my best work 🚶🏽‍♂️ also dis was inspired by a tiktok edit of connie n jean to paper soldier by brent faiyaz but i lost it 😔😔
word count: 2.4k
“Oi, oi, where are you going?” Jean asked, lips swollen and smeared in lipgloss as Connie got up from the couch.
“I’m tapping out for the night bro. I promise you I got better things to do than watch you eat your girl’s face off.” Connie replied in a wry tone.
Saturday nights were always movie nights for Jean and Connie. Well, it was originally Jean, Connie and Sasha but Sasha moved in with her boyfriend.
Ever since you and Jean began to date, they were always cut short since Jean just could not for the life of him keep his hands to himself if you were in the same vicinity as him.
Connie thought you were a good match for Jean.
Jean had a stick up his ass the majority of the time, but when you swooped in the perpetual scowl etched into his features gradually faded away.
And there was no denying you were sexy.
He had pangs of guilt when he bumped into you in the kitchen Sunday mornings, Jean fast asleep and you were at the coffee machine.
It was out of his control, the way his mouth went dry and his cock twitched at your ass and hard nipples peeking through one of Jean’s baggy shirts that draped to your knees, but managed to settle just above the curve of your backside.
It was just difficult not to stare. He settled on trying to be cold and distant but when you said as a passing comment to Jean you thought Connie didn’t like you, he nearly kicked his ass.
“You make my girl upset and I’ll break your jaw.” Jean hissed.
“Jeez, I got it!” Connie grumbled, rolling his eyes as his thumbs whirled over the joysticks of the controller. He knew Jean could do that but he never took him seriously.
“I’m being serious, Con. She was real torn up about it.” Jean said sternly.
Connie was getting sick of Jean. He let out a sigh as he paused the game to turn to face his best friend.
“Hypothetically speaking, why is it such a big deal if I didn’t like her? Huh?”
Jean groaned.
“She’s a little sensitive. But that’s just how I like her alright? How’d you feel if I was being a dick to your girl?” Jean responded, scowling.
Connie pursed his lips together. Jean did have a point.
Back to current events, he eyed you as you were perched on Jean’s thigh.
“You jealous, Connie?~” You teased in a sing-song as you ruffled Jean’s sandy brown tresses.
“He got a pretty girl and don’t know how to act no more.” He chuckled to himself. “Try n keep the noise down.”
“I’d let her fuck you, y’know.” Jean said with a smirk.
Connie’s jaw went slack, disbelieving what he had just heard right now.
“…Huh?”
“Well, yeah.” Jean shrugged. “My baby thinks you’re cute, and I’d let her do anything she wants. Right, honey?” Jean said airily, as he leaned in to bite your neck, causing you to jolt and giggle in his lap.
“Jean..!” You whined, sensitive to the graze of his sharp teeth.
“You’ve gotta be messing with me right now.” Connie said, struggling to keep composure as all his prior fantasies of you hit him like a truck.
“No, Con..”
Why do you say his name like that? Connie internally cried to himself. It wasn’t helping douse the flame of his attraction to you whatsoever.
“I think you’re a cutie pie. I wanna have some fun too, I think you’d both do a good job of spoiling me, huh?” You beamed, your hand on the nape of Jean’s neck as you raked your fingers through the ends of his mullet.
Jean dug the heel of his palm into your clothed core, eliciting a moan from you.
“See how sexy she sounds, Con?” Jean grinned wolfishly as he continued to apply pressure, making you squirm and involuntarily buck your hips into his hand, seeking more. “You wanna make her moan too?”
Connie was in a state of complete and utter disbelief. Regardless, his eyes glazed over as he nodded.
“That’s my guy.” Jean said triumphantly, within an instant, he threw you into the air and caught you bridal style, laughter overtaking your body as you draped your arms around Jean’s neck.
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The dim light of the bedside table in Jean’s bedroom illuminated both of the men’s eyes.
You were just so damn gorgeous, they stood side by side as you looked at them coquettishly through your lashes.
You began to pull down the straps of your romper, sliding it off until it was around your waist.
Connie felt as if he died and gone to heaven when he gaped at your bare chest.
“Which one of you wanna start..?” You questioned, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips, thrilled at the idea of both of them about to treat you.
Jean patted Connie’s back.
“Go on. Make my princess moan, hm?” He chuckled, as he began to tug his navy blue shirt over his head and tossed it across the room, revealing his lithe and toned figure.
Connie’s tongue dragged over his lips as he fully took in your appearance.
It wasn’t as if Connie was some inexperienced virgin with no play. It was just an uncanny situation.
Jean and you were so eager to do this, he felt as if there had to be some sort of catch.
“Hi handsome…” You cooed as Connie got on his knees on the carpet of the bedroom, between your legs, you gently smoothed his head and rested your hand on the nape of his neck. “Strip for me?”
He nodded, instantly discarding his shirt and shrugging out of his shorts until he was in his boxers.
“Ah, so there is a bit of muscle here?” You smiled as your palm slid down Connie’s broad chest. You raked your nails across his skin, earning a soft grunt from him.
“Not as good as mine though, huh babe?” Jean chuckled.
“Shut. Up.” Connie said through gritted teeth, then turned his attention back to you.
Testing the waters, Connie settled his hands on the bare skin of your hips, it wasn’t some sort of wet dream. This was reality, so he gripped your flesh, as his brown eyes took you in.
You were gazing at him so fondly, his heart was racing and the tips of his ears went red.
“Just do what comes naturally, okay?” You reassured him as you stroked the back of his neck again.
“…Okay, Y/N.”
Connie fluttered his eyes shut as he began to gently peck upwards along your soft stomach.
You let out a content sigh.
“Con…” You breathed out, revelling in his soft touch. It spurred him on, and Connie felt accomplished that something small already made you so reactive.
Jean grinned as he leaned in, standing next to the bed to press his lips against your neck, his hand wandering down your body to cup your breast, rolling your nipples between his fingers.
“Keep goin’ Con, she’s liking it.” Jean chuckled as you mewled and scrunched your eyes shut.
Connie nodded and latched his mouth onto the other breast, flicking your nipple with the tip of his tongue as his hands still gripped your hips.
He felt more bold now, and he yanked the romper off completely.
“No panties?” Connie chuckled darkly, as he licked his lips at the sight of your pussy, slightly slimy from your arousal from both of their ministrations. “Who knew your girl was so dirty?”
“Why do you think I’m all over her?” Jean responded as he wrapped his large hand around your throat, his thumb and forefinger gripping your jaw. “You’re such a little slut, aren’t you honey?”
You nodded, mind dazed from the pleasure and dirty words.
“Mhm, yes…I’m a slut.” You mustered out.
Connie felt a bit more eased in, his apprehension and frigidness fading away.
He looked up at you with a grin, big brown eyes sparkling with excitement as he spread your legs apart, giving your inner thighs a gentle lick and kissing them.
“Please…” You whimpered.
Jean grinned against your neck.
“Please, what, baby? You want us to keep going?" He took one of your earlobes between his teeth and tugged gently. “Tell us what you want."
“Want you both…make me feel good.” You breathed out shakily.
“You heard her, Jean.” Connie grinned.
Connie was in his element. He loved going down on a girl. He was smiling from ear to ear as he was given a front view of your slick folds.
His breath fanned over your wet heat, and your eyebrows furrowed together in impatience.
“Stop teasin’!” You whined.
“Jean, is she always this impatient?” Connie snorted, amused by how desperate you were.
“It’s cute..” Jean shook his head laughing. “But yeah, my princess is pretty spoilt.”
Connie delved in between your legs, his tongue flicking over your clit eagerly, weaving expertly within the crevices of your wet flesh.
Your moans only spurred him on even more, he latched on and sucked harshly. Connie grinned deviously at the sound of your desperate pleas.
He teased you more before leaning down to lavishly kiss and lick between your thighs.
Jean still palming and kneading your breasts, sliding his large hands along your sides pinching your nipples as he worked to fulfil you.
Connie’s tongue played along your folds, circling your clit a few times, he was overjoyed with the way your body reacted to his every touch and tease.
“Don’t forget about me, baby.” Jean murmured as he tilted your head up to meet your lips hungrily, moving against you as he sucked your lower lip.
Pleasure circulated through your veins as the two men were consumed with satisfying you.
“Con…” You groaned as you felt your high approach you. “S’close.”
Connie grinned and quickened his movements, licking and sucking on your clit, sending waves of ecstasy throughout your body.
"Just let go, princess," He whispered against you, his tongue and lips still working away. "We've got you."
Your voice was hoarse as you sobbed, and your hips bucked violently. Body shuddering as a stream of clear liquid gushed into Connie’s mouth.
“That’s it, there we go…” Jean grinned triumphantly as he felt your body go limp in his arms.
He continued to lick and suck at your sensitive spots, drawing out every last drop of your orgasm.
“Let it all out for me." Connie murmured encouragingly.
“Alright, alright. Get to the back.” Jean chuckled. “How sweet does she taste?”
Connie stood up from his knees, savoring your essence.
“Nothing like it.” He chuckled as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
You and Jean shared a look, and you immediately despite being shaky from the intense orgasm, got on all fours on the mattress.
Jean crouched to cup the side of your face as he pecked your lips.
“Eyes on me, baby. Remember who you belong to.”
“I know, Jean…” You mumbled.
“Good girl..” He smiled as he kissed you once more. “You’re doin’ so well. Isn’t she, Con?”
Connie nodded, as he fumbled for a condom and rolled it over his length throbbing.
“The best.”
Connie trailed kisses down your back, stopping at the small of your back causing you to shiver.
Pulling down his boxers, his hardening cock springing free Jean stroked himself a few times.
“You ready for us, angel?” Jean whispered huskily.
“Yes, I want you both.”
“Course you do, you little whore.” Connie cackled as he smacked your ass, biting his lip at the recoil.
Your eyes met Jean’s as you fisted his girthy cock, your thumb rubbing and giving kitten licks to the sensitive skin earning a guttural groan right from his chest.
You almost paused as from behind, you felt Connie teasingly rub his latex-covered length along your slit.
“F-fuck! CONNIE!” You gasped out, pussy still sensitive from his mouth earlier.
“Shit, Con..” Jean chuckled, voice strained as he felt your breath on his slit. “You’re behind and she’s still calling your name.”
“Guess I’m her fave.” Connie smirked as he finally slid into your warm, wet walls.
“Y-you wish.” You mustered out, but you couldn’t deny Connie had surprised you.
You took Jean into your mouth and his fingers tangled in your hair.
“Shit, princess…” Jean heaved out as your tongue swirled around, making his cock slick with your saliva.
Connie began to move, his hips thrusting hard and fast, you were reduced to incoherent babbling.
“You like that, baby?" Connie growled hotly against your ear, wanting to one-up Jean. "You want more?"
“S’much more..!”
“You're so fucking sexy." He panted out between thrusts.
Jean moaned softly as you sucked him off, his fingers tangling violently in your hair.
Connie grunted as he continued to thrust into you, his hands leaving bruises on your hips.
"Fuck, angel," Jean growled through gritted teeth. "You're so damn good at this. That mouth of yours."
Jean’s fingers gripped with each bob of your head. His eyes were dark with desire and he watched you hungrily as Connie fucked you relentlessly.
“Let me finish in that mouth, honey.” Jean stuttered, feeling his high approach him.
"I'm gonna cum. Swallow it, baby. Take it all." Jean’s teeth sinking into his lower lip as he reached his climax, his warm seed spilling into your waiting mouth.
He panted and stroked your cheek gently as he came down from his orgasm, his softening length sliding out of your mouth with a wet pop.
Without hesitation, you swallowed his cum. Jean gave a greasy smile as his thumb slipped past your lips, prying your jaw open.
“All gone, huh?” Jean grinned, admiring your tongue. “Such a dirty girl.”
You screwed your eyes shut as Connie drove deeper inside of you, your walls pulsating around him.
Your fists bunched up the sheets as Connie groaned.
The both of your moans blending simultaneously reached the peak of their pleasure, Connie spilling into the latex.
He gasped as Jean pulled you towards him, the loss of warmth making you whimper as Jean pulled you close onto him.
Your arms draped over Jean’s shoulders as you felt overwhelmed in a good way.
Jean began to kiss your temple and rubbed small circles into your back.
“Feel good, princess…?” Jean smiled as he stroked your cheek. “Did you enjoy yourself?”
You nodded, then turned to Connie with a lazy grin.
“But he was my fave.” You giggled, Jean pinching your hip.
“Hey!”
author’s note: showed connie a bit more love in this since i barely write for his ass & we have enough horse cock in this blog. if u reached this far tysm for reading, reblogs & interactions r always appreciated
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rainbowhao · 14 days
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pervert p2 ♡ haechan
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genre: smut ⭒ word count: 1.0k ⭒ link to p1
donghyuck has a filthy mouth and even filthier mind.
but somehow you can’t stay away from him; it’s nearly impossible when he makes himself present at every friend gathering, never missing the opportunity to give his daily dose of teasing—which had gotten progressively worse over the last few months.
like when you spent one afternoon at the beach; he’d looked at you from across the sand, biting his lip at the sight of you in swimwear. the sun warmed his bare arms, casting a honey-like glow onto his tanned skin. 
he walked over to you, currently sat on a beach towel chatting with an enthusiastic jisung about the bowl of ramen he’d made the previous night. hyuck peered down at your unaware frame. “don’t you want to play with me?” he asked.
the boy sounded innocent enough, though you knew there was a double meaning to his words. he tilted his head while awaiting your answer, long fingers tapping against the soccer ball in his hold. you try not to stare.
“i’m busy.” you huffed and pointedly averted your gaze.
hyuck pouted. “why you won’t look at me?” 
“it’s too bright.” you lied. “and i’m having a conversation.” you didn’t see the way jisung covered a growing smirk with his hand. 
or when it was a particularly windy afternoon and hyuck didn’t hesitate to get his hands on you, toying with the fabric of your shirt after he claimed he was fixing it. he’d nearly gotten slapped in the process, though ran off to jaemin’s side with a satisfied smile.
then there was the time he’d caught you checking him out (in your defense, you were drunk and he was wearing eyeliner) and he pulled you out of the crowd, leaning forward to whisper in your ear. “pretend all you want, baby.” he chuckled lowly. “i know you want me just as bad as i want you.” you were too dazed to conjure a response. “keep looking at me like that and you’ll really be in trouble.”
the encounter affected hyuck more than he’d let on—didn’t stop thinking about you the rest of the night as he played the scene on repeat. as much as he loved to run his mouth, he was all talk, nothing more than the annoying boy that followed you around and cracked sex jokes. he knew his fantasies would never turn into reality and that the only action he’d ever get was from his own hand (and your stolen underwear). 
until the pool. 
you are currently trying to drown donghyuck though failing. he’s just laughing, sputtering water and avoiding your splashes. “you think mark’s cute, huh?” his voice raises in pitch as he calls out. “hey, mark? come here!” he shrieks when you grab his shoulders and try to push him beneath the surface. 
“shut up!” you can’t help the giggles that escape your mouth, brain loopy from the hours of swimming. the boy barely budges, strong legs keeping him upright. “why do you like to make up shit?” you say. you roll your eyes and give up, though not before giving him a little shove—which only has him grinning.
 “the others aren’t out here to save you. wanna do that again?” he raises an eyebrow.
“please—even renjun can take you out.” 
“really? care to try then?” hyuck gestures. he’s got a taunting look that has your blood boiling. you’re not sure you can overpower him—not without doing something to take him by surprise. what was the best way to distract lee donghyuck? as you silently weigh your options, you realize he’s now staring at your torso. 
oh.
“what do i get if i win?” you carefully ask, already starting to slowly creep closer.
he gulps. “what do you want?”
“how about you start by returning the underwear you stole?” 
all the air leaves hyuck's lungs. fuck—he’d been caught. there was no point in pretending. “it was just once,” he swears. “okay, three times. shit—are you mad?”
you ignore him. “are you enjoying this?” even underwater you can see his growing bulge. “you like the idea of getting caught?” his jaw slackens at your words.
“are we—are we still playing?” hyuck eyes dart to the back door. he can see movement in the kitchen; anyone could come back out and see what was going down—see how pathetically turned on he was. 
the last thing hyuck ever expects is for you to tug him by his swim shirt and kiss him. you taste even sweeter than he’d imagined (probably from the watermelon you’d inhaled earlier). his hands find the back of your thighs in an instant, wrapping your legs around his waist. he groans into your mouth at the feeling of you pressing against him.
hyuck kisses you back with such intensity that you forget entirely about your plan. you’re now trapped in his hold, any hope of trying to dunk him washed away as he lewdly sucks on your lips. somehow you’re the one caught off guard here—not the other way around. instead of underwater he was boldly moving his hips in a way that had your head spinning, forgetting all about the the game and your two-year rivalry. 
“want to touch you.” he pulls away long enough to whine. “please. i’m going insane.” 
you’re breathing heavy. “what makes you think i’d let you after the shit you’ve pulled?”
hyuck’s burying his face in the crook of your neck, kissing and sucking at the skin. “sorry. i’m sorry,” he mutters apologies. “i’ll be good from now on. promise.”
your core is clenching onto nothing, fingers digging into shoulders. maybe you didn’t dislike the though of him getting off to you. maybe when you’d discovered what his sticky hands had been up to, you’d purposefully invited him over to see what he’d do.
“what about the others?”
donghyuck smirks, tongue poking the inside of his cheek; he knows he’s got you now. 
“is it bad if I say they can watch?"
a/n: I was going to wait a sane amount of time to post this but somehow it left my drafts so guess it's going up now
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sserasin · 28 days
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girlfriend stealer
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cw nsfw under cut, female reader, sunghoon watches, tribbing, voyeurism, exhibitonism, sunghoon is r’s bf, implied infidelity/previous wony x y/n relationship, degradation (wony to hoon), mommy kink, squirting
this is a fantasy ive been having for the last couple of weeks so i needed to write it
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“right there,” wonyoung breathes out as she starts grinding her pussy down on yours. your hand clamps over your mouth to prevent them from hearing you whimper at the slick drag of your clits rubbing together. “a-ah, y— you learning, h—hoonie?” somehow, her voice is still condescending even as she’s clearly struggling to control her own moans.
the squelching sound fills the room, echoing in sunghoon’s ears as his eyes are switching back and forth from your face to your pussy being rubbed against wonyoung’s. he honestly has no clue how the two of you got here with wonyoung. all he knows is you were trying to stop wonyoung from talking to sunghoon before she dragged both of you in your room, and here he was. watching his girlfriend cum because of his mc partner.
his members have joked multiple times before that wonyoung would steal you from him, the two of you spending more time together than you with him. sometimes, he even regretted introducing you two to each other— before you two started dating so you would be able to meet her and not feel threatened by her like most would.
you, obviously, weren’t most. in fact, you liked wonyoung a little too much. and he knew he wasn’t imagining things when he caught her hand on your thigh. the times you two went to the restroom together under the guise of it being safer… how could he not know?
“you don’t want your boyfriend to hear you?” wonyoung stares down at you, noticing how you avoid her gaze. she’s quick to grab your jaw in her hand, forcing you to look at her. “hear how you sound when you’re actually being pleasured?” lowering her face down to be near yours, she turns your head along with hers to look at sunghoon, who is stuck on his computer chair with his hand awkwardly positioned on top of his crotch. which makes no difference, both of you can tell he has a boner. “go ahead and tell him. how he may have a pretty face and a big dick, but none of it’s any use if he doesn’t know how to use it.”
she reaches back and spreads open your folds a little before lowering herself back down, the new closeness making you moan loudly, forgetting about hiding it. her hips start to relentlessly rut against yours, a switch between grinding and quick circles on your clit. sunghoon’s mouth falls open, blinking rapidly at the switch of events as he feels his cock throb in his pants at wonyoung’s words.
your jaw slackens at how quickly you felt a tightening in your stomach as your legs began to tremble, high pitched ‘ah’ leaving your lips, “w—won—”
“that’s not what you call me,” wonyoung huffs out quickly. “say it.”
you don’t even bother arguing, “mommy, mommy please please let me cum—”
sunghoon doesn’t realize when he put his hand down his pants, stroking himself at the same pace as your pussies rubbing together. his mouth forms a small ‘o’ as he distantly realizes in the back of his head that you call her mommy— insinuating this has happened before— before dismissing it as he realizes you’re getting closer to coming. quicker than he’s ever made you cum.
one of wonyoung’s hands reach to pull your thigh up for your knees to touch your chest, holding your legs apart for a new angle. the pose leaves you feeling exposed, blinking back tears of pleasure. your hands grip for something to hold, falling to her thighs as you wildly buck your hips.
“you’re— still— holding— back,” wonyoung says through her moans, pressing harder on your leg and making your muscles burn. “don’t you wanna be a good girl for mommy?” her lips curve into a pretty smile as pants left her mouth, staring at you from under her eyelashes. “then come.”
a high pitched scream leaves your lips as yours walls clench around nothing. your skin was covered in a mixture of yours and wonyoung’s juices as yours squirt out of you. a half choked moan leaves sunghoon’s mouth as he comes with a weak thrust up into his hand, soiling the front of his pants.
your legs are painfully twitching as she slowly holds herself up off you, eyes flickering to sunghoon, “don’t you want to learn? come here.”
and he listens.
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tuhtofu · 10 months
Text
photograph
cw: dom reader, sub childe, masturbation, face slapping, nipple play, degradation, masochism, dacryphilia, coming in pants, coming untouched, gn reader, childe is a pervert
wc: 1.2k
Summary: Your virgin, touch starved comrade finally gets some action.
The rivalry between you and Childe has somewhat turned into companionship. Everywhere you go, you’ll find him lurking in the shadows, waiting for an opportunity to cause a little trouble.
It’s not like you mind. In fact, it brings a tinge of thrill to your travels. You always end up sparring, pushing each other to the limit as you explore Childe’s tactics and weak spots. Once in a while, you like to explore one another’s weak spots a bit further.
At first, Childe thought you hated him. It didn’t do much to hinder his advances, because your passion for fighting was delightful. Holding back was never an option for you, and he loved it… A lot.
Enough to find himself in front of the mirror after every fight of yours, admiring the cuts and bruises formed by your hands. That was more than enough for him to fall to his knees, pressing on those spots and hissing in pain, thinking about the way you looked when you placed them on him until small beads of precum would make their appearance on his underwear.
He’s lost count of the amount of times he’s found himself in front of his laptop, biting his shirt and drooling on it while fisting his aching cock to whatever porn video he could find where the actor’s looks resembled yours even slightly.
Sometimes, he’d fall into a rabbit hole of S&M videos, unable to stop touching himself until he was hyperventilating from overstimulation, his whole room reeking of his smell, body covered in sticky cum and sweat. He wanted you to use him so badly.
Childe would become increasingly more obvious with his attraction towards you, towards your strength and the pain you inflicted on him. Grunts became louder, his legs would become shaky, and he’d even slip in quiet whimpers when you taunted him. 
His swings would become clumsy for only a moment while his eyes zeroed in on your body, cheeks ruddy as he observed the way your muscles flexed and the teasing look in your eye, so determined to take him down. Fuck, when will you just force him to his knees and have your way with him?!
That instant of gawking was more than enough for you to trip him to the ground, the feeling of your sharp blade pricking the underside of his jaw just enough to draw a drop of blood, snapping him out of his trance.
“You’re pretty sloppy today, Childe. I’m disappointed.”
“You can’t expect me to always be in top condition. I have yet to recover from how rough you went on me last time,” he chuckled, chest heaving as he panted loudly.
“Right. I’ll believe that when you start wearing a pair of pants that’ll actually cover your erection.”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself, it’s not because of you.”
You inched closer, before stomping on his wrist with your foot, and Childe cried out at the sheer force of it.
“Don’t lie. The last thing a masochistic slut like you should pretend to have is pride,” you scoffed.
Oh, he knows. He just wants to savor the sight of you, looking down at him from above like this and mocking him.
“H-help me then. Hurt me, please–” Childe replied shakily in an attempt to entice you.
You’d be lying if you said that taking the chance to play with your sparring buddy like this was something you hadn’t imagined before.
That sitting on his stomach, ripping his shirt apart and toying with his body wasn’t in your list of fantasies. He was already arching up into you, trying to feel more of your weight on top of him.
Your hands cupped his cheek, almost surprising him with your gentle touch, before it left him abruptly, returning as a harsh smack to his face. A grin formed on your face, and you didn’t stop, alternating between his cheeks until they turned red, marked with your handprints. 
He could probably escape if he tried, but why would he? You were touching him, and after all the nights he spent thinking about you, desperate to feel you in any sort of way, what you do to him doesn’t matter.
The only sounds Childe was able to let out were wails of pleasure, as his body squirmed and arched further into you. He finally spoke after you slowed down, allowing him to catch his breath. His eyes were teary, looking up into your own with nothing but lust.
“S-shit! That’s so good!”
You smiled mischievously, letting your fingertips dance across his neck and grazing it with your nails. That gentle touch of yours, paired with the stinging on his face, was like heaven to Childe. His cock was already throbbing within its confines, just as needy as him… just as pathetic as him.
“I can feel you poking me from behind. I hope you don’t think I’d ever touch that disgusting thing.”
A retort was sitting right at the tip of his tongue, trying so hard to save a fragment of his dignity, but there was no way he could oppose you. Especially not when he felt his tip drool because of those very insults.
Naturally, your next stop would be his chest, cupping and fondling it the way one would a woman. He could’ve sworn that you had at some point even teased him about it, referring to them as tits. Or maybe he had just imagined it when he was–
“Fuck! Why!” he yelped, yet his hips betrayed his words, bucking into thin air at the feeling of your fingers pinching his nipples, before gently circling his areolas.
You ignored him, continuing your attacks on his chest by flicking and pulling on each nipple while your other hand moved to his neck, ripping a shaky sigh out of Childe as you squeezed it.
“What’s the point of all our training, if you’re gonna turn into a drooling, good for nothing mess the moment someone touches you like this? What if a group of samurai attacked you? Would you squirm like a little girl and let them use you too?”
Your ridiculing wouldn’t cease, but Childe could only moan in bliss, the image you inserted into his head making his eyes roll back. The grip around his neck was tight enough to leave bruises, and he was sweating profusely, hands trying, albeit in vain, to claw themselves into the floor for any sort of support.
“M-more! Please, it’s too much!”
He couldn’t think anymore. There was no point. His cheeks were already stained with tears, his hips jumping uncontrollably as he cried out in pleasure, ropey streaks of cum spilling into his pants.
Even after you let go of him, his body wouldn’t stop twitching. He was in a haze, only snapping out of it when he felt your nails digging into his cheeks as you grabbed his jaw forcefully.
“We didn’t agree on letting you cum, did we? Yet you came in your pants like a teenage boy,” you spat.
“It wasn’t on purpose, I swear!”
“Looks like you’ll have to make it up to me, then.”
Why was this motherfucker grinning?!
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