#i just love their dynamic from the very beginning | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hoseoksluna · 3 months

Text

LIQUID STARS | jjk

pairing: fuck buddy!jungkook x f. reader (feat. bam)

genre: angst, smut

word count: 11.8k

summary: to seal the deal, you give jungkook what he wants—your kiss, your cunt and your virginity.

playlist: liquid stars / pinterest board: wine

warnings: size kink, heavy dd/lg themes, provocation, dry humping, dirty talk, mentions of porn, oral sex (f. + m. receiving), multiple orgasms & countdown, dom/sub dynamics, reader has daddy issues (like the writer), first time, jealousy, inner child healing, plushie used during intercourse, jungkook fucks her numb & dumb, praise kink, cum eating, pet names and the establishment of a title, bondage, raw sex, tummy bulge, desperation, pain felt during intercourse, squirting

note: as difficult as it was to write this, i'm immensely thankful. this changed my life; it healed me and i'll dream about it for a long, long time. i was as exhausted as oc once i finished this, because i truly did give my all. everyone, this is part four to my series 'wine' and therefore the very end. this is the very beginning of jungkook's and oc's relationship. can be read as a standalone as there aren't any quirks from the other parts (except for bunny), though if you wish to read them now, now is the perfect time. now you can see the beautiful gradual development of their relationship. please, enjoy as you read and let me know your favorite parts bc i need to talk about this. heed the warnings as there are dd/lg themes that can be uncomfortable for some. thank you! and thank you for all the love on this series. i'll never forget it. i love you, guys. ʚɞ

side note: give some round of applause for 3D daddy provider jungkook everyone!! he deserves it!!!

Silky lilac bows adorn the tops of your pigtails that cascade down in loose braids, sprawled on the cotton of his pillow and on the soft belly of a bunny plushie. There are still traces of sunlight left on the bedding, which dissolve, little by little, into nothingness as the large star goes down, saying goodbye. It’s lightweight, the atmosphere—homely almost. And much to your surprise, you feel relatively at ease, despite the fact a man lies on top of you—a man you have a certain liking for.

It was natural for you to end up here and you, yourself, wished for it, even. Deemed it was only right after the man took you around for a walk while his silly Doberman guarded each and every step both of you had taken in sync, especially so when he persisted in buying you a small plastic ring of the same bunny you’re lying against. He didn’t even forget about his own canine friend waiting outside patiently like the obedient dog he is, and fed him the snackies he got for him as soon as he returned from the shop. You swore Bam was as giddy as you when he received his gift.

Now the ring glints in the last rays of the sun. His, too.

While yours is as white as the cloudy morning sky, Jungkook’s is as black as the drowsily dozing night sky. You think it’s the perfect contrast between the pair of you. Not that you should be noting these things, considering you’re just friends. But his skin is satiny soft, painted in impressionist tattoos, while his muscles, that his well-fitted T-shirt graciously allows you to see, are strong. You’re sure he could just lift you and throw you around without much of a strain. And it certainly doesn’t help that he’s such a striking image of pure beauty. How could you not notice these intertwinings when they’re this lovely?

You like him—without a shadow of doubt. Can feel the call of an emotional attachment forming the more he studies your skin with the tip of his index finger, embellished with the Miffy ring, and it’s owed to the fact you’ve never been touched this way before. No one has ever come this close, no one has ever been interested in the moles scattered upon your shoulders, in the veins that make the pathway to the column of your neck. No one has ever gazed twice at them—but Jungkook?

He hasn’t stopped looking at them ever since he laid you down in the middle of his bed.

How could you stop such a call? Such a lull, such a magnetic pull. You know you should, but for the meantime, you simply don’t want to. Can’t lose this moment, can’t lose this once in a lifetime opportunity—

Jungkook presses his lips against the prominent mole in the center of your left shoulder. Those pretty, puffy lips, closing against your skin, the smallest dart of tongue swiping past. It shocks you for a moment before the feeling dissolves beneath, adjusting within the freshness of your system. How could you refuse such dynamic poetry, expressed against your own forlorn body? When it’s so blatant that it’s natural, that your body willingly accepts it without a fight.

You couldn’t.

Stretching your fingers between the thick strands of his hair, you close your eyes to savor the feeling of being wanted. The movement of his mouth, going even as far as to the first vein rooted in your arm—following it with those half-closed pillows. Up, up until he finds the line of your collarbone. Jungkook pauses there, simply breathes against you before he interperses little pecks there, nibbles and gentle swipes of tongue. The lining of your top won’t let him go further down, so he changes direction—relies on the pathway of your veins to guide him to your neck. And there… at the first contact, you grip the roots of his hair.

His kisses and nibbles are much harder here. And what’s worse, he takes the sensitive skin into his mouth and sucks. You fail at containing the whimpers that break out of your mouth and Jungkook reacts to them. Hums ever so deeply, rocks his hips against the mattress. You wish you were a bit bigger so you could feel the collision, but you’re just so small compared to his large form. You imagine he’s writing down the poems collecting inside of him with each cursive roll of his tongue. Wonder if there’s enough paper on your skin for all his words.

“You sweet little thing,” Jungkook coos onto the crook of your neck, dragging his lips up and down before he stops at your jaw. You feel the warmth of his breath and his body heat seeps into yours, creating unity, blackening the ink. It feels strange, it feels so new. Brisk and springlike, like fresh air in a stuffed room. You want to stay here for a long time, tasting the wholeness of spring captured in him. You want his words to flush you red with the tinge of the entire sunlight that opens the buds of flowers during all seasons in a loop. “Can I kiss you?”

You haven’t gone beyond the innocent touching of hands with him. You brim with a tight feeling of thankfulness that he asked you such a graceful question, although something else steals your attention entirely.

“Little?” you say, the smile on your lips pulled so taut that it quivers ever so slightly. It makes you crazy that he calls you that, but you play the game. Revel in it. “What do you mean little? I’m bigger than you.”

Jungkook cocks his brow at you, mouth falling into a lopsided grin. He sits back and you feel a whiff of coldness pass by the perimeter of your body, as if someone opened the window and let the winter air in, when it’s just his brief distance that caused it. The forming attachment in you tenses and before you can think about your actions, your hand finds his knee, his thigh and traces slow patterns there. Jungkook suddenly squeezes your waist, surprising you, and the ecstatic fluttering of butterfly wings break havoc all over your body. The solidness of his hands, their weight, their firmness, giving life to your body, meaning. You note how his fingers touch when he has his hands enveloped around you like that. And the inkling that your body matters in his hands like that slips into your mind, spreading through its axis.

You bite your lower lip. A small ache begins to grow in your intimate parts. It’s so nice to be wanted, to be considered good enough to be touched, to be kissed.

“You? Bigger than me?” Jungkook squeezes your waist again. Sucks in a breath through his teeth. Smiles softly; in a way that you find unbearably endearing. “No, you’re just little. Just a tiny, little bug. So tiny in my hands.”

For the breath he inhaled, you exhale it.

He leaves his hands there when he bends over you, hovering his lips over yours. His weight, his heat. You sigh against him in relief, in a newly blossoming excitement that he’s back again. You spread your legs wider, feet grazing his calves—

“Let me kiss you, please.”

You’d give in, but the game is just so pleasurable.

Your laugh is but a breath. “You wanna kiss me?”

You exhaled, he inhaled.

“Don’t ask stupid questions.”

“Since when do friends kiss?” You cock your eyebrow at him just like he did, prodding your tongue on the inside of your cheek.

He hovers a little bit higher above you, hanging his head in defeat, sighing. Places his hands in fists on either side of you, caging you in.

“Premium friends do,” he mutters, lifting his head, face all serious. You dig your toe into the toned muscle of his thigh, twirling sweet little circles, gliding up and down. Watch as his eyes lid and he tries to control it. “Don’t do that or I’ll fuck you.”

Your body panics, but you will it to relax.

“Does that come with the premium subscription?”

Jungkook purses his lips, supports his weight on one hand as the other, the tattooed one, grips your jaw. He squishes your cheeks, bites his lip once—seemingly ponders whether he should play your game or not before he lets go of your pout, but still keeps his hand there. He traces the shape of your lips with this thumb, feeding his desire to kiss you with scraps.

“Yes,” he utters. “Kisses, orgasms, my dog. It’s all—”

Orgasms, not just sex. Orgasms.

“I get to take Bam?”

Jungkook tuts at you. “You get to take me,” he corrects you. “Though, can even such a little thing like you take me?”

Probably not. Definitely not.

“But what about Bam?”

He looks at you as if he couldn’t believe the words you’re saying, turning his head slightly to hear you better. Then, he scoffs, running his tongue across his lips swiftly, letting them express the enjoyment of your provocation by stretching into a smirk. He places his hand back on the right side of you, thinking over his words.

“Bam is mine, but you can pet him. You can kiss him.” You can hear the feigned venom in that word as he spits it and you grin, pleased with yourself. You enjoy doing this to him. “And if you’re good, I’ll let you take him out for his walkies.”

You gasp slowly, fingers absentmindedly gripping his thigh. Butterflies buzz you with a mere hint of arousal and to convey it, you wet your top lip with the tip of your tongue. The dominance, the principle of proving to him whether you’re deserving of something. Your heartbeat quickens, reaching for him with each swell.

Oh, you’ll be good. You’ll be good until he’s sick of it.

It seems he’s as pleased with himself as you were with yourself, reading your body language as he beams down at you, dimples poking holes in his cheeks. You want to stick your fingers there, pinch the skin at the corners of his mouth. Feel them, kiss them—

“Deal.”

Jungkook blinks at you. He most likely expected you to be difficult. You like the look of surprise on him. A sweet kind of glint perches itself upon his irises. You’re at awe of how he manages to be so adorable and alluring at the same time. You could never understand it. You deem he must be otherworldly.

“A kiss to seal the deal?” he tries, raising his brows, lowering himself to his elbows.

He skims his lips across your cheek, descending to your neck. Places one, singular kiss there. Lifts his head to hear your answer, a soft curtain of hair falling across his forehead.

You make a face as if you’re thinking about it.

Jungkook groans.

It’s cold, the way he turns away from you and it startles you—but then he slides his hands under your back and lifts you with ease, sitting you down on his lap. He moves you from the muscles on his thighs to the hardness of his intimate parts and you groan at the feeling of it. You’re wearing an airy short skirt with tights and knee socks underneath, the barrier so thin that you feel the solid, thick shape of him right under your femininity.

You rock against him once. Jungkook lets out a sound akin to yours, fingers flexing—hands almost reaching for your behind before he decides against it and keeps them planted against your back.

He desires your consent. And that makes you feel light-headed. Tipsy on the wholeness of him, on the pleasure coursing through your body.

You rock your hips again—and this time, Jungkook whimpers.

You take your hands and, slowly, you make a pathway down his chiseled chest. He twitches against you when your fingers pass by his nipples, his body following and squirming along. And once you reach the definition of his abdomen, your hands rise and fall against its quickening movement as his lungs heave. You’re mesmerized by his reaction to your touch. It’s as if it was his first time as well and something about that makes you woozy, savage and absolutely feline.

And something about the way you’re allowed to do as you please, whereas he’s not, strengthens that state of mind, enriches it, thoroughly worsens it.

You want him.

It began with a ring and ended right here.

And the process of your decision starts at his hips, finalizes at the pebbles of his nipples and finishes completely at the sides of his neck. He gives you the same, if not better, reaction, his manhood moving against you, and it’s settled.

The giving of virginity to seal the deal, not just a kiss.

Hovering your lips against his, you slip your hand to the place where you’re connected to feel up the shape of him. You moan onto him, vigorous power seizing you, propelling you to wrap your fingers around him. The breaths Jungkook emits are desperate, tortured, wafting over you, intoxicating you. It fills you with confidence unlike any other that you’re able to coax such a thing of beauty out of him—that you, the artist, have the upper hand momentarily while he doesn’t.

And he waits, depends on you. You want to cry due to how happy it makes you, due to the way it suffuses an empty part of you, left abandoned by someone who should’ve taken care of it a long, long time ago.

Because of that—if it’s kisses that he wants, you’ll give him as many as his body desires as a thank you.

“You’re so hard against me,” you whisper.

Jungkook grips your waist hard.

“If you want it, you have to seal the deal,” he mimics your intonation, voice deep, tingling your tummy.

“I want it.” You clutch both of your hands on his jawline, thumbs finding the invisible dimples.

“Kiss me, then.”

You whimper at the longing to do so. Your tummy clenches, butterflies inside swarm around and—

When you close your lips against his top lip, they burst into smithereens. Jungkook sighs in relief, enveloping you in his warmth.

The kiss is hungry. You expected his first taste of you to be careful, contemplative, but he goes all in. Takes charge of the lip lock, swallowing you whole, moving against you, uttering low sounds that make your head spin and you just comply. Accept that you’re the one who submits to his craving and you find yourself liking it; find yourself wanting to deepen your submission.

You wrap your legs around his waist, your head tilted as you reciprocate all of those hard kisses. When he comes up for air, he just gazes down at you, out of breath. One hand still on your back, the other cradles your cheek. There’s something puzzling in his eyes, as if he was fighting something within. You’re radiated by that energy, heavied down by it, letting him pet you like a puppy while you wait for the next step.

“You’re so good that I’m considering letting you take Bam out,” he breathes, curling a wisp of your hair behind your ear. “Sweet little thing.”

He pecks you once. You grind against his manhood and as he shortly groans onto your mouth, you splutter into giggles. Behind you, as if he heard him, the dog peeks his head out of the door, giving his Daddy a questioning look. Jungkook chuckles.

“Bam, house.”

The dog leaves and Jungkook sinks his fingers into your hair, sighing. Kisses you, again without tongue—only does what you’ve allowed him, but you overflow with the desire for more. He’s so considerate, so respectful and while you’re grateful for it, you want to break it. Your trust in him, made whole by all that he’s done for you, settled within you, made a bed in the sensitive parts of you that now shine. He doesn’t need to remain there—you want to go beyond that.

“Touch me, please.” You look up into his eyes as you say it, willing them to see with all your energy how much you want him.

He rubs soothing circles on your back. “If I touch you, I’ll fuck you, sweetheart.”

You lift your butt ever so slightly and bounce down on him, your skirt furling. Jungkook moans, pleasing you to the core. It’s bratty of you, but it serves him right for being so stubborn, so firm in his control. You want to break him.

“Can’t you see how much I want that?” you purr, bunching the cotton of his T-shirt in your fists.

He merely shakes his head, licking his lower lip, fucking with you. He tugs on one of your braided pigtail, the other hand gliding to your hipbone. “This little girl is horny? I couldn’t tell.”

A yellow light, sleepy in nature, spills through the blinds, latching onto the side of your neck. His eyes flick to it and his teeth sink into the wetness of his lip. He looks back at you when he says, “what was it that made you horny? The neck kisses?”

He straps both of his hands to your hipbones now, adjusting you so your sweetest spot rests against his cock, rocking your hips like he wants them to. He swallows down his noises, makes room for yours. You figure he wants to hear them.

You think about what made you horny. His respectful behavior. An electric spark spasms in your core at the memory and you roll your body against his at the impact—nipples pebbled, grazing below the hardness of his pecks. You moan loudly. He breathes heavily, can’t for the life of him contain that, gripping you with strength that will surely leave bruises. You add it to the list.

His control—the momentary, delicious lack of it, too. The dominance that follows it. His noises and how unrestrained he is when it comes to them. The allure and the attractive charm of his looks, blended with that insufferable cutesiness. His hard cock. The neck kisses, too, of course.

You summarize your answer and you tell him, “you.”

A hitch in his throat. “Fuck.”

Fuck, indeed. Fuck the steady rhythm—Jungkook speeds up your movement, the pace so fast your pigtails and your ribbons bounce, tits following suit. Your breath falls in step, moans echo within the walls of his room. He kisses you harshly, but that doesn’t silence you. He swallows your noises down, grunting.

“You wanna know what made me hard for you?”

You nod your head, lips forming a natural pout at the loss of contact.

“Those fucking pigtails of yours. The knee socks. How tiny you are in my hands. Seeing you lose your fucking mind when I kissed your neck. Those marks I left behind, hm, fuck yes. Those marks made me crazy,” he mutters, staring you down. “And you know what else?”

You wait for his answer as white flashes blind you, your roaring orgasm beckoning you close. He doesn’t stop rocking you against him, not once. Fills your brain with emptiness with his words coated wet by his dominant energy. You feel your own wetness soaking the fabric of your panties.

“Your brattiness,” he says. “I want to fuck it out of you and make a good girl out of you that won’t misbehave again with her smart words.”

A faint part of you, half affected by the pleasure he gives you, arises to stand up for you. “But I was good and you said so.”

He clicks his tongue, disapprovingly shaking his head. Slows down the pace so you’re able to hear him loud and clear, your orgasm backing away. “You see the thing is with little bratty girls like you, even when they act good for me, there’s still that dark little side of them that hides. Unless I fuck it out of them, they play with me. And trust me, I like the game until I don’t.”

You frown at him, but a moan betrays you. A fight throngs inside of you, his dominance yet again permeating you, causing you to flourish, but on the other hand, you don’t like being added to the mix. You want to be the only one—and it makes you angry that he had someone like you before you, that he even said it altogether. Though unfortunately, that’s something you can only keep to yourself.

The forming attachment breaks, splitting into two, with the knowledge that your wish is futile. You understand he said it for the sake of the role-play that you both naturally, wordlessly established through sexual attraction, but you still have a lot of getting used to within the dynamic. He’s experienced, you’re not. Though, when you think about it, he doesn’t know a thing about your purity. You never told him.

You blame yourself for your own pain. It’s your fault—you should’ve had a conversation with him about it before you let him do anything to you, instead of playing flirty games with him. You wouldn’t have gotten hurt, if he knew you were a virgin. The thought of what you’ve done stains you, makes you feel filthy, but you will it to kneel inside of you like a wounded animal. You need to be strong if you don’t want to storm out of his room in tears.

No attachment, no liking.

Just sex.

There’s still a frown to your face, despite the fact you set yourself free with your decision. Jungkook chuckles at it, oblivious to your internal storm.

“You didn’t like that, did you?” You didn’t like being compared to other girls he’d been with; there’s nothing to be said of the like about the role-play aspect. Being called bratty did rouse a moan out of you. “You prove my words right.”

You roll your eyes. Jungkook grips your ass hard and spanks you. As the sting reverberates, along with it comes the realization you got what you wanted.

You broke him.

And now you have to face the repercussions.

Good thing you’ve sobered up from the stupefaction of your arousal.

You cradle his face and kiss him deeply in effort to change the narrative. No feeling of affection from earlier hangs upon your heart and you find that it’s easier like this. No strings, no pain. It relieves you—so much that you sense a layer of lightness to your body and tiny, manageable tears well in your eyes. You get to enjoy this after all.

There’s radiance to your eyes, rooted in hope, and true softness to your words when you say, “I want you to fuck it out of me. I want you to be my first.”

You want to be different—your pride is uninfluenced by your decision. If he fucks it out of you, the new narrative you’re longing for will fully take place and make living through this bearable. You know you can’t have him the way you’d like, but if fate wrote that you’re to have him this way—you don’t mind altering it to the little desires you’re allowing yourself to have.

Once in a lifetime opportunity. You can’t lose it.

Jungkook is left astounded by your words, eyes widening, shock evident on his features. Like your words, he softens, unclenching his fingers from your suppleness, the darkness in his irises making a way for gentleness to come through. He rubs the small of your back, hands ascending to your spine, feeling the clip of your bra, until he finds the nape of your neck. He holds you there, tenderly, as if you were a porcelain doll he now was careful not to break.

The change in his demeanor is stark. It surprises you as well—and like everything that has happened within the hour, it isn’t something you expected from him. The emotion that emerges from the roundness of his eyes touches the hardness of your decision, tries to get through, pokes a gap inside, letting the light in.

He tucks his darkness back inside. Strokes the back of your head, the silky ends of your ribbons sifting through his slender fingers. You relax against him and your body does it for you. It welcomes his tenderness, glad for the truth to be out. You fight against it—against yourself, willing your decision not to break but remain firm.

No strings, no pain.

But to no avail. The light spreads. His light. Celestial twinkles of stars, small parts of him that make him who he is.

“You’ve never had anyone before me?” he husks, regret glossing over his eyes, holding your head firmly as he awaits your answer. More stars spill like liquid.

You shake your head ‘no’, your chest tightening.

He kisses you and there’s something different about the way he does it. Now you can sense the carefulness you searched for earlier and you taste the primal core of loving care in the movement of his lips. The kisses are long, deep. As if you’re a different person now, a girl unlike any of the ones he mentioned. Someone who matters, someone who’s solid. You’re back at the beginning.

A lump forms in your throat.

“You sure about this?” he asks.

One part of you, greater and illuminated by his stars, wants it gently like this, with flowers of innocence and purity besprinkled across his features, never leaving you out of his sight, taking care of you. But you fear that if you allow him to be tender, your heart will choose him again and cling to his side. The other, more faint part of you, affected by your decision, thinks it’s better to stick to the role-play, for there’s the aspect of illusoriness that will not bruise anyone’s hearts, especially not yours. It will make you horny, Jungkook will get you off and, glowing, you’ll go home.

You can’t decide. It’s too much of a heavy weight to bear on your shoulders. You can’t do it.

You need him to say the word. You need him to decide what will be the face of the trajectory of your premium friendship.

Flowery or deceitful?

A small candlelight in you hopes for gentleness and purity before your fear unfairly puffs it out.

“Yes, I’m sure. I want you.”

Jungkook lays you down and, at last, you feel his manhood against you. He bends to pepper apologetic kisses along the column of your neck and you feel the authenticity of his regret, thrumming against you warmly. Your breath hitches in your throat, the principle of the candlelight in you not being a high hope after all—

“I’m sorry. I should’ve gone about this better.” A kiss to your cheek; you stifle your sobs. “I should’ve checked in with you, but I jumped straight in. This was a mistake on my part. I’m sorry.”

He blames himself, not you.

You want to remain stoic, but his authenticity beckons yours to come out and envelop him whole, gives access to your emotions and you can’t stop the miniature teardrop from flowing down the side of your nose. Neither can you stop the words that follow its footsteps.

“I should’ve told you first,” you whisper, sniffling. Jungkook furrows his brows at the expression of your pain in tender emotion, wiping it away. “But I was bad—reckless.”

He chuckles softly, caressing your hair. “You’re an angel. Sent to my side for me. You weren’t bad. I didn’t mean what I'd said.”

His words, his touch, the kiss he adds to your cheek to punctuate his sentence—Jungkook erases everything that has just happened.

Newness rushes in your chest, the pouring of spring into summer permeates your whole being. You hear the birds sing, the rustle of flimsy flower petals on tree branches as the warm wind grazes it with its touch. Jungkook seals this feeling by pressing a kiss to your sternum.

He said it, so it must be so. You trust him.

The firmness of the cage around your decision unlatches. Doesn’t fly away like the birds. Is a little bit afraid of peeking out. The candlelight returns to light up the room around that cage, blossoming into the sun.

“We don’t have to do anything, if you don’t want to,” he says, looking up at you from the place where he dragged your top down to kiss your skin.

The sun rays in you absorb all of the darkness. The firmness extends one wing.

You run your fingers through his hair. Figure the only thing the summer in you is missing is the heat. You want him, you want sex and you don’t want to think about feelings or consequences. You don’t want to choose between anything anymore. You just want to enjoy yourself.

“I meant it when I said that I want you to be my first,” you say, fingers curling around his ear. Jungkook leans into your touch and it’s as if he’s massaging the wing to alleviate it from a cramp due to being tucked in for so long.

“Okay,” he sighs, taking your hands and pinning them on the pillow and bunny above your head. He sits up, examines you and you wonder if he can see how truly fragile you feel. “Do you trust me?”

He’s had half a year of going out with you, mingling his life with yours, spending money on you and treating you like an absolute treasure to build your overall trust. And what he did just now? How he erased your pain? Your nod is immediate; you don’t need to think twice.

“Of course I trust you.”

“Good.” A soft smile. “I’ll make sure your first time will be beautiful for you.”

Your heart thuds. His words steal all the breath in your lungs, smoothing out the surface of your body for his stars to fill. Tears prick at your waterline.

“Are you scared?”

You’re an empty canvas.

“Not anymore.”

Jungkook nods, gladness pulsating off of him. “I’ll be here the whole time. I won’t leave you, not even once, okay?”

“Okay.”

He finds the zipper on the side of your skirt and yanks it down. “How many times do you wanna come?”

The ridiculousness of the question makes you laugh and you hide your face beneath your palms. “To be honest, I don’t expect to come at all. It is my first time after all.”

You marvel at the honesty seeping out of you. His work, no doubt.

Jungkook frowns, ridding you of the skirt, fingers hooking under the hem of your top. At the reveal of your pink, flowery, see-through bra, he stops altogether, stunned. He fondles the material, grazing over your soft nipples, at last reaching the embroidery of the small petals. He gasps in wonder, eyes flicking to your intimate parts to see if you’re wearing a matching set.

The same flowers adorn the suppleness of your tummy.

Jungkook smiles at his discovery. Is hasty as he drags the nylon of your tights down your legs, along with your knee socks.

“I’ll decide how many times you come for me, then.”

Heat pools in your femininity. There it is, the dominance that you love. Yet this time, it’s laced with his gentleness. Heaven on earth—a meadow full of flowers in the middle of summer. Like the ones on your lingerie.

Joy grasps your heart. “Do I get to know before you start?”

Jungkook chuckles, pressing a kiss on your tummy. “What, you wanna count them down for me?”

You asked just because, but the idea excites you. You nod.

Your response prolongs the rumble of his laughter and you feel its vibration as he kisses his way up to your clothed breasts. You’d think he’d focus his attention on them, but he straightens—reaches for something behind him and retrieves your white knee socks. He bunches them in his hands and puts them on you as if he were dressing a child.

Paradoxically, goosebumps spread all over your thighs.

Smoothing the material over your thighs, he lies back down against you, lips latching on the spillage of your breasts that your bra gives him. While it feels dizzying, you still want to know the number. You poke him in the bulging muscle of his arm and in the process, you flush his cheeks red.

Jungkook pushes your tits together and licks over the line in the middle. The sight of the shine of his wet tongue against it drenches your pussy, ruining your pretty underwear, and you want him there, on your sweetest spot. Your nipples stand to attention and Jungkook listens to their call, thumbs brushing across them.

You mewl, grinding your hips against his stomach.

“Two times when I eat you out; two times around my cock,” he answers finally, awakening your butterflies. “How many times is that, then?”

Amidst the pleasure, you do the math. “Four.”

“That’s right. You think you can do that for me?”

You’re not sure. In fact, you’re not sure of anything—lost in his touch, in his energy.

“I don’t know,” you say, truthfully, skimming his face for a sliver of disappointment in his features.

You find none. Only tenderness—round, soft eyes, brown in the light he radiates, nose and mouth buried in your tits, sucking on the skin, making you feel good.

“That’s okay. We’ll try together. Nothing bad is gonna happen to you if you don’t come as many times. Or at all. I promise.”

Your chest clenches. You grab his face and kiss him, licking over his bottom lip before you slip your tongue inside. Jungkook grunts, rolls his own muscle over yours, tasting you, feeling you. He inhales sharply against you, once again taking charge of the kiss, taking each and every thought and negative feeling you had and crushing it to smithereens.

He lifts you and switches places with you, sitting you down on his lap with your back supported by his chest. He roams his hands all over you—tits, tummy, hips, sides and thighs while he busies his mouth on your shoulder. As your eyes follow each movement, you notice the marks he embellished your breasts with and your arousal grows—so much that you take his wandering hands and hook them under the waistband of your underwear, guiding them down your thighs.

There’s a change to his breath when his index and middle finger feels up the fleshiness of your cunt for the first time. Hard, raggedy and absolutely tormented. He glides those digits up and down your dewiness, listening for the squelching sound that makes his cock twitch beneath you.

He moans onto your neck, nose tracing the column on its way to your ear. “How do you touch yourself?”

A sudden shyness overtakes you and you turn your head, needing to hide in his neck this time. You remain silent, the words lodged in your throat.

Jungkook sees you.

“Do you rub your little clit from side to side or in circles?” he questions, helping you answer.

“I—I like both,” you whisper onto his skin, moving your hips so his fingers slip to your clit, the sweet spot where you need him the most. He grabs the back of your thigh and lifts it, spreading you open, meanwhile you chase the firmness of his fingers.

“Just like that, ride them,” he husks, eyes dazed, fixed on the roll of your pelvis. “Feels good, doesn’t it?”

Head on top of yours, you nod, never ceasing your movement, transfixed, just like him, by the constant way the pads of his fingers fondle your clit before dipping between your lips. The heat of the summer tightens in your lower belly and it’s a desperate litany of begging what your mouth utters, despite the fact you’re not really sure what you’re asking for, but you let him hear it. You’re close, so unbelievably close, yet still have a road to walk on before you, and you close your eyes to feel the delight of his touch more deeply, only to find that you manage to do nothing of the kind.

When you sense his eyes on you and by instinct you reciprocate his stare, that’s when you feel the depth you sought after. Mouth parted, pupils dilated, eyelashes a drowsy catastrophe, messy hair casting a soft shadow over the planes of his blissed-out face. You want to kiss him. You want to make him feel as good as he’s making you feel—

“Let me do it now,” Jungkook says hurriedly, sensing the nearness of your climax.

“Yes,” you croak out, halting the movement of your hips—and ‘yes’ is the word that ripples out of your mouth a hundred, a thousand more times when he spreads you wider and rubs his fingers on your clit from side to side.

He feels the pleasure in sync with you, accepting all of your yes’, twisting his face the moment yours does, quickening the rapidness of his hand once he switches to circles to carry you to your summer-breathed paradise.

And when you come all over his hand, he slips two fingers inside your hole.

He stills the buck of your hips.

You widen your eyes at the new feeling of fullness and, panicking and constricting around him, you look at Jungkook, who merely strengthens his hold around you.

“Trust me,” he says, breathing heavily. He doesn’t move his fingers past his first knuckles; he lets you adjust to the size. Gives you a kiss full of tongue to distract you. “Does it burn?”

You begin to pant against his mouth, the high of your orgasm long gone. You’re uncertain to count it as one when it was so short lived, ruined by the sudden plunge of his digits. But much to your surprise, you don’t detect any burn in your walls that he speaks of, which you realize was his intention.

“No, it just feels a bit uncomfortable.”

He kisses you again. You feel your lips go numb, eyes lidding at the pressure you feel as he sinks his fingers a little bit deeper and begins to move them sluggishly, your slick creating another ring for him around his fingers. You try to meet his thrusts as the visceral sensation of being filled by longer, thicker fingers settles within you and takes roots. You discover that movement is the key to parting the uncomfortable feeling and it steps to the side to let the pleasure walk forward.

Jungkook presses his palm flat against your clit, guides the pleasure to envelop your body when he plunges his fingers deeper, past the second knuckles and fucks you in swift jerks. Your mouth falls open in a silent moan and he fills in the sound, expressing his fiery delight for you at the clench of your walls against him, accommodating for him, for his desire to stretch you out, so when he finally enters you, no pain comes to greet you.

Deeper and harder—yes, that’s what feels good. You roll your body, becoming waves of the sea as wetness and the build up of pleasure—seafoam—is all your senses wrap around.

“Feels good, baby?”

His need to check in with you speeds up the nearing expansion of your orgasm. Pointer and pinky finger digging into the skin of your backside, you watch the in and out motion, the digits coming out wetter and wetter each time.

“Feels so fucking good. I’m gonna come. I’m so close.”

It’s quicker. Way quicker than your first tiny orgasm. He slips in and out of you so smoothly—you’re obsessed with the sight, ravaged by it entirely. You grind your hips and fuck yourself back, picking up the pace but slowing down instantly when you feel yourself at the peak of your climax.

You want to prolong it. You love the feeling too much to end it too soon.

Jungkook stops your movements fully.

“I want to be the one who makes you come,” he murmurs. “I want to be the one who fucks your brain out. I want to feel you squeeze around my fingers. Fuck, I want it so bad.”

His hand drifts to your neck just to hold you there, the other, the busy one, fingers you harder, your fast approaching orgasm blinding your senses. Your drenched cunt squelches around him, the sound so lewd it causes you to seek comfort—your hand flies to his on your throat, fingers wrapping around his wrist, the tip of your pointer reaching the fat bulb of bunny’s head on his ring.

Harder and faster. A scalding fire burns you and you just take it. Loll your head back against his shoulder, giving him the space to grip your jawline. Flames grow closer and closer, leaving a layer of sheen on your body in its wake. You feel the sudden need to pee.

“Oh my god, Gguk—” Your muscles tense. Close, so close. “Gguk, Gguk—”

“What, baby? What’s the matter?” he husks, squeezing your neck once. “You’re gonna come for me? Gonna come on my fingers?”

You nod quickly, too quickly. Flames of the sun, licking you. Flames of the summer heat. Just what you wanted.

Jungkook opens your jaw, swirling his tongue around yours. “Let go. Come for me. You can do it, I got you—I got you. Come for me, baby, please.”

Obeying his desperate order, you do.

A small stream of your pleasure, a faint fountain, trickles out of you and into his hand. He gasps, in unison with your whimpers, and you’re transmitted elsewhere. The wildly colorful, blooming meadow on a hill, overlooking the languorous sea and he’s there. Reaches behind himself. Offers you his hand. The wind ruffles his black hair, sweeps it back and you’re giddy—as giddy as Bam, as giddy as you were in the moment the slid the white bunny ring on your finger—to take the last two of his slender fingers, the pinky and the ring, and sit with him by the edge of the cliff.

“Did so well for me.”

The whisper takes you back and you awake.

You’re different. Incandescent. Of life, of stars and its light, of growing fondness for the man you sit perched on the lap of, whose fingers still remain sheathed inside of you. He changed you. Perpetually, absolutely. He changed you and made you into something new. Something that is softer, more elegant—smaller but assertive. Alluring and kind. Indisputably good.

He fucked everything negative out of you with his fingers. Left the vast canvas of stars inside of you.

You’re no longer a plain spread of cotton, but a living, breathing artwork. His artwork.

Once he fucks you with his cock, you wonder what further internal changes are going to occur within you.

You feel a great deal of gratitude for him—and you want to reciprocate all that he’s done for you. You want to work hard at it. Spoil him. Make him whimper. You believe he deserves it.

“You finger yourself often? How come you took my fingers so well, hm?”

You’re panting, unable to speak. Absorbing the sharpness of the stars, acclimatizing to the change.

“I guess you do, huh?” he deduces. “Good little girl, preparing herself for me.”

For the life of you, you can’t catch your breath.

Jungkook kisses your cheek deeply. Pecks you on the same spot a hundred times, slowly taking out his fingers. Lets you see your slick coating his fingers and, softly, you gasp at the little ripples of wrinkles upon the tips of his fingers, mouth parting.

And then he sinks them into your mouth.

His hardness twitches behind you and you moan, your daintily bittersweet taste making your head spin. And when you look at him, you’re met with the utmost pink-dusted adoration painted on his face. You kiss it, inhaling it, letting it flow into your system so it suffuses your bloodstream, letting him taste you. You may not feel your lips, but the sentient poetry of the stars begins to sing in you. His stars. You feel like a flushed floweret visited by a bee. Spent, but happy.

Happy to be wanted.

Good, because he said you were.

As if internally intertwined with him, you feel the identical heat tinge your cheeks.

He says nothing as he lays you down and spreads your legs back to the way they were. Though when he’s graced with the sight of your bare cunt in all her glory, his face says everything that his mouth isn’t capable of. Hunger and torture—lips agape, corners of the mouth shiny with the rush of drool and Jungkook wipes it away, then lowers his fingers to your clit, to your lips, becoming more acquainted with this intimate part of you that no one had seen before him. He traces your small hole, even going as far as to your other, tinier hole and you yelp, stopping his exploration.

Jungkook merely chuckles, eyes darting to yours. “You’re so pretty.” You grow so hot that you think you must be on fire. “Especially there.”

You mewl, shrinking, hands looking for anything to hold and finding his bunny plushie. You take her into your arms, inhaling a scent that could never be hers. You recognize immediately whose it is.

Musk, vanilla, wood.

The thought of Jungkook cradling her while he sleeps moves you and you pout.

“How we feeling?” he asks, still caressing your fleshy cunt, dripping with dew.

Overjoyed. Overstimulated.

Heavenly.

“Good.”

A foxy smile. “How many orgasms was that, hm?”

You don’t know where your shyness comes from and why it chokes all of the words you want to say. You bury your face in bunny for a moment, taking a breath to fight against it, so you can please him because that’s all you yearn to do.

You open your mouth, but no words come out.

Jungkook stifles a laugh and it makes you feel terrible. And it’s worse when he leans over to kiss you, turns his head at the last moment and faces bunny.

“Bunny, how many times did she come?” he asks her, offering her his ear to hear her answer. Looks at you. Widens his eyes. Gasps. “Two,” he mouths. Listens some more. Nods. “I know she thought she wouldn’t come at all. Crazy, right?” Then he lets out an endearing sound. “She said she’d believed you could do it the moment you said it. She’s so happy for you. How cute,” he coos.

You giggle, the bridge in your throat loosening, light flooding you, over and over, until you think you can’t take any more of it. You feel so full, so happy and the sensation threatens to pour out of your tear ducts.

It heals something within you—that he treats you like this at your most vulnerable state. Your inner child flares, the stars the strength that fixes her stoop, helping her arise, stand straight, stand powerfully.

He smiles down fondly at you. “So what number are we at?”

You hide your face behind your hands. “Two.”

“What did you say? I didn’t catch that.”

You drop your hands and with as much energy as you can muster, you repeat the number.

He purrs, caressing your cheek. “Good girl.” As a reward, as if the praise wasn’t enough, he kisses you deeply. “Will you let me taste you?”

You swallow his desire, but speak up your own, “I want to taste you first, please.”

Jungkook hums, curses under his breath. He straightens and kneels before your form, fingers pinching the back of his T-shirt and pulling it over his body. You catch the sight of his broad shoulders, of each dip and muscle, and your irises grown in width. Him ridding himself of his clothes dishevels his hair and as he untangles his arms from the material, he smiles down at you, noticing your stare.

He caresses the back of your thigh before his hand flies to his hard length. He palms himself once, then continues to undress—tugs his sweatpants down to his knees, though he doesn’t bother himself to fully take them off. The shape of him is more prominent through the fabric of his white Calvins, the bulge of his mushroom wet and pellucid, and you sit up, hand itching to touch him, to join his in making him feel good, but he cups your chin—forcing you to look up at him.

He swipes his thumb over your lips. “You want it?”

You nod. “So bad.”

Jungkook curses again, the sound low and rough.

“Touch it,” he orders and both of your hands listen, wrapping around his girth, squeezing beneath the head of his cock. The thickness of him makes you see the light of the stars that you sense fluttering feverishly inside of you. Your mind is too empty, too washed out by your orgasm, by the change that you don’t even think about how you’re going to take him. Jungkook hisses, tilting his head back before he looks down at you intently. “You did this before?”

You’ve never seen one in real life before, let alone touched one.

“I’ve never let anyone get this close.”

Jungkook strokes your pigtails. “How come you know what to do then?”

Instinct or memory from porn you watched—you don’t know, it all blends together within the fuzziness of your mind. And you tell him.

“I watch a lot of porn.”

Jungkook smiles coyly and it strikes you. You’ve never seen him smile this way before or, even, feel this way before. All you know from him is dominance, dominance and dominance.

You release him from the confines of his boxers and repress your gasp. His ever glistening tip reaches just below his navel and the thickness of his girth obscures most of his pubic hair. Along with the sound of your surprise, you also have a hard time swallowing the saliva collecting in your mouth.

“I want you so bad,” you whisper, needy eyes looking up at him. Shy, too shy to let your gaze linger at the most intimate part of him.

He sucks in a breath at your words, hissing. And you need him inside of you all over again.

Fuck fuzzines in your mind. You’re fuzzy all over. Wrecked with nerves, suddenly. Your hands tremble, hovering in front of his manhood. Jungkook covers them with his, soothing you, and guides you to his shaft. Wraps your fingers around him. Doesn’t let go.

The feel of him under his supervision is slow. He allows you to take in every ridge of him, every vein—the softness of his skin, the warmth and the weight. Round after round, up and down, until you get familiarized with him. A trickle of his male essence drips down the side of him and your tongue instinctively darts out. Like your hands, Jungkook’s breath shakes and he anticipates your next move, despite the fact he’s in charge.

He’s been patient all this time, giving you the time you needed. But that hardly applies when you have him in your hands, when you own his neediness. His whimpers while he waits coax your slick out of you, soaking the bedding beneath you and you can’t take it anymore.

Neither, evidently, can he.

“Baby, please,” Jungkook croaks out. Tortured, so terribly tortured. Grip tight and clammy around your hands.

So vulnerable.

You ache.

You lick up a stripe of his essence on the side of his cock and Jungkook shudders. Shifting onto your knees, you show him the milkie on the tip of your tongue and Jungkook pulls your hair, tilting your head back. Kisses you nastily, licking into your mouth. Moans, lowly. Then, he holds his girth at the base and pushes your head.

When you take him, a mewl ripples around the thickness of him. His eyes roll back and his grasp of your hair tightens, burning your scalp, adding to the fire. He lets you feel it out; lets you figure out what to do, testing your knowledge from the porn you’ve watched. And the tensing of his stomach divulges his strained effort not to fuck your mouth.

You go slow about it. Swirling your tongue around that rosy head of his, along that delicious ridge, licking a flat stripe across that line of his slit. Getting to know him in all those intimate places, relying on your senses—on them to tell you what he likes. Your hand begins to move on its own, gliding back and forth in tandem with your tongue stimulating his sensitivity. You try not to think about how you can barely fit him in your mouth, because if you do—you’ll ruin his bedsheets.

But then Jungkook hums in approval, sending a gush of wetness out of you and you whimper—you whimper at the worsening ache you feel, at the helplessness that pools in your system by being just so filthily wet and horny.

He moves your hand faster. Breath jagged, bedroom eyes zeroing down on you. And then—

Jungkook moans your name. Over and over, clenching and unclenching his hand on the back of your head.

“Don’t have to teach you shit,” he spits. “You just watch porn all day, don’t you? Naughty girl.”

Losing control for a split second, he rams his cock into your throat—and you don’t panic, you don’t yelp. Instead, you groan.

He pulls you away from him with a sharp tug. Kisses you harshly. Shoves you down into the pillows with one push on your sternum.

Bending you in half, he drinks your cunt. Lips immediately suck on your needy bundle of nerves and it’s so fast you don’t even know which part of you he’s focusing on because he’s everywhere. Clit, hole, clit, hole—sucking, licking. Alternating, alternating so swiftly and deliciously that you completely lose your mind.

And then he lifts your hips and holds them in the air, wanting you to see what he’s doing to you. Like you, he darts out his tongue and teases you, hovering the muscle above your clit. Shiny, nimble, capable of doing unspeakable things to you. He watches as your pussy drools for him and he chuckles darkly. Tongue lowering to collect it, but unlike you he never does it. He lets the dew trickle down your skin.

“Cute little pussy. So wet. Wetter than when I fucked it. You liked playing with me on your knees, didn’t you?”

With your fucked out brain, you don’t think it’s taunting what he’s doing. You deem it’s just him reveling in what he’s able to do to your body—in the fact that he owns it, that he teaches it new things. The glint in his dusky, lustful eyes proves it.

Jungkook drags a long stripe on your clit, making your eyes flutter closed and your teeth to sink into your bottom lip to cage in your moans.

“Talk to me.”

You can’t. You don’t know how to talk.

He stares you down.

No answer from you. Just hard pants. Pussy drooling.

“I won’t play with you, then.”

Panic. “No.”

He cocks a brow at you. “No?”

Silence.

He begins to lower you down but you grip his forearm.

“Jungkook.”

Bent over above you, head low, he merely flicks his eyes to yours. Duskiness, such blackening duskiness in those orbs.

“Beg.”

All your muscles tense. Wetness gushes out of you.

Lucky for you, that word he wants is the one you haven’t forgotten.

“Please.”

“Please what?”

You groan in frustration.

“Be nice or—”

“Please, lick me.”

That dark chuckle. You feel yourself becoming obsessed with it.

“Where?”

A challenge. Your throat dries up.

“There.”

He shakes his head disapprovingly, making a sound that expresses just how much he didn’t like that.

“Try again. Last chance, little girl.”

The loving smile on his face says everything about how that threat is feigned. You hear it tell you—you have as many chances as you need. He’s merely encouraging you to step out of your comfort zone.

And something about that mellow, hidden kindness gently ushers you to do just that.

“Lick my clit, please.”

A hum. A long stripe on that sensitive, thumping spot. A roll of his tongue forward and backward.

“Like this?”

You choke out a moan.

“Yes, please.”

“Or—” He blows on you, causing you to tremble. “Like this?”

He shakes his head against you briskly, not yet at a full tilt. Just like his, your body shudders in his hands and he tightens his grip on your supple hips. You can’t take it, the pleasure is overwhelming and—

“Look at me,” he orders and you open your eyes, immediately. “Like this?”

Jungkook adds more pressure and rapidness to the movement, leaving you glazed sweetly in the sheen of his saliva. He moves your hips up and down on the firmness of his tongue and you scream, taking a strong hold of his hair.

“Oh my god, yes, fuck, Daddy—”

Shocked, Jungkook groans against your pussy, slowing down to ingest what your mouth has just uttered. It’s more than natural to call him by a title like this, instinctual, innate. It fits him so well and it drenches your pussy, your slick amalgamating with his liquid love. You’re certain he feels the rush.

Your Daddy.

You roll your hips against his tongue. Dark and more dark, those eyes of his. Bottomless pit.

“Fuck yes, call me Daddy again.”

The whimpers you let out are pathetic and Jungkook shudders at them, groaning. You whine the title over and over again, a verdant, dreamlike litany of your feminine sexuality pampered, cared for, supervised. Jungkook accepts the gravity of it all, each declaration propelling him to suck your clit harder, bruises forming on your hips from his deathly grip, black eyes never leaving yours, hypnotizing you.

And when you come like this, it’s unification what happens.

You’re bound to him and he’s bound to you.

Daddy and little girl.

Throughout your sexual experience today, you had a hard time accepting things but this—this is something that slept inside of you all your life and just now has been awoken to a flickering canvas of bright stars. You feel it blink, adjust to the piercing light, before it smiles dolefully—happy to be conscious, happy to be caressed.

Jungkook kisses you and takes his time. The taste of your femininity, the fresh coldness of your change, the strong wine of his desire. You’re drunk. You’re slurring your mewls.

And one thing about unification, it’s a mirror.

You swallow down the same mewls, uttered by his throat.

“Daddy’s gonna give it to you,” he whispers, adjusting between your legs. “Will be gentle. You’re safe with me.”

He rakes the tip of his length along the entirety of your little sea-kissed seashell.

“You want it? You want Daddy’s cock inside of you?”

Jungkook looks into your eyes deeply as he asks you that question, the tip ready at your significantly smaller hole. He peppers kisses along your jawline and chin.

“I’m scared it’ll hurt,” you murmur, brows furrowed.

He kisses your cheek, the corner of your mouth.

“We’ll chase the pain away,” he promises.

Your frown deepens.

“But what if it doesn’t fit?”

You expect him to chuckle, but he does no such thing. He absorbs your worry by kissing you tenderly. Then he glances at your body. Remembers he never took off your bra and fixes his mistake.

“You may be small, but you were made to take me,” he says and your heart skips a beat; you wonder if he understands the gravity of his words as they take roots within you, rising to bloom into splendid flowers. “Besides, my dick is tiny. You won’t even feel it.”

It is so far from the truth that you burst into giggles. He laughs along with you—a mirror reflected.

Stars and flowers. Sea and freshness. You were made to take him. You trust him.

He kisses your breasts, licking over your nipple—but briefly. Holding his shaft, he asks if you’re ready. You nod, your fingers desperately searching for his and Jungkook notices. Sinking slowly inside of you, he grabs his bunny plushie and tucks her into the crook of your elbow.

There’s a pinch of pain, blended with the feeling of discomfort as your walls stretch around his head.

Seeing it painted on your face, Jungkook draws close, enveloping you and bunny in his heat. Pushes a little more in. You wail softly, the pain intensifying. Fear intermingles with your features and Jungkook—the worry in his countenance makes you almost weep.

“Hold onto me,” he says, brows scrunched, so—so serious. “Relax, baby. I got you.”

You hook your arms around his neck, bunny sandwiched between your chest and his. Jungkook saves this time to let you adjust around him.

“I know it hurts,” he whispers onto your mouth, index finger, the ringed one, stretching to graze your cheek. “Just relax your muscles for me. It’ll feel good soon.”

You nod, trusting him.

He pecks you. Smiles.

“How many orgasms are we at?”

You roll your eyes, your own smile threatening your lips. “Three.”

Jungkook hums. Pecks you again. You feel your walls loosening, little by little.

A smug smirk. “You didn’t expect that, did you?”

“You obliterated my expectations.”

“Just wait until I fuck you properly.”

You blush, eyes twinkling.

“Pretty girl.” He kisses you and you feel your attachment forming again, though this time—newly. As light, as free as an entanglement of seaweed upon seashore, you and him. Connected. Bound. No fear, not even a hint of it. “I heard you watch porn.”

Your flush deepens. Jungkook sinks a little deeper. A faint pain—nothing bad.

“Who told you?” You laugh, the sound ridding you of your shyness.

But Jungkook grows solemn.

“Tell me what kind you watch,” he whispers, angling his head to give you a tiny kiss.

Your cheeks hurt from the smiling, from the onrush of emotions within you, sloshing to and fro. You feel hot all over.

“The one where all the focus is on the girl,” you whisper back. “The guy uses all kinds of toys on her and she just takes it. Comes so many times and there’s a countdown for it.”

Humming, he begins to nibble on the skin beneath your jaw, making your breath shallow. He pushes in another inch—and the pain is worse. You tighten your grip around him.

“And how many times do you come when you watch it?” Deep, deep is his voice, the calmness to your nerves due to the pricking you feel.

“I don’t stop coming.”

Jungkook swears under his breath and clenches his digits into a fist beside your head.

“And you finger yourself?”

You nod, confidently. Another inch. He smiles at your confirmation of his deduction.

“How many fingers?”

You scoff. “Just one.”

“Well done,” he praises, kissing you once, keeping his mouth on you even as he asks, “ready?”

You nod, again, even though there’s fright to your eyes. He sees it and he brushes his eyelashes against your eyelids while he kisses you, taking it all away. And he doesn’t stop, even as he pulls out and thrusts back into your heat. Gently, so awfully gently.

He didn’t break his promise.

Jungkook rocks his hips in slow, sensual, prolonged staccatos, moaning into your parted mouth. You’re so focused on him—on the bulging of his muscles on the either side of your head, the broadness of his shoulders, the slick sweat dripping down his neck, right from the top of his tattoo; on the sheerness of his pleasure as he moves in and out, carefully so as to not frighten you, that the pain quickly subsides.

And there you feel it.

The sensation unlike any other.

He rams into you, seeing the wrinkle between your brows smoothing, the lust clouding your eyes as the delight spreads all over your body, bringing along little dots of goosebumps. The night sea, windless, still hot from the afternoon’s goodbye kiss. You feel it—and you feel it deeply, sinking inside of you with every inch of his manhood. So much that you meet his thrusts.

“That’s it, baby. Fuck yes,” Jungkook murmurs, enraging the waves within. “Feels good, doesn’t it? Being fucked?”

Stars and its light. He picks up the pace, hooking your leg over his shoulder, entering you deeper and deeper, giving you more than half. The thrill of feeling so full—you curse, you moan, you can’t hold it in, even if you tried. And Jungkook coos at your conveyance of the pleasure he’s giving you, never lifting his eyes off of yours, off of your features, your emotions. Surveying you, controlling you, making sure you’re okay—more than okay.

You sense the pressure coil deep within your core, the sense of your climax approaching and you’re astonished at how quick it is. You halt your own movements, needing—wanting him to be the one to get you there, the one who owns your orgasms.

“Gguk, Gguk, fuck—”

“I know,” he breathes. “I’m gonna make you come all over my cock.”

He fucks you harder, making you cry out. Deep, deep staccatos, so different from the slow, languid ones. You can’t catch your breath, the sea within you sloshes violently and then—

Softly, you sprinkle him with your fountain of pleasure. Not enough to drive him out, but sweetly enough to force him to groan against you and pound you harder into the mattress. Continuing as if you hadn’t come.

You don’t have the time or the space to think about what just happened—he fucks each and every thought of you.

“My little squirter,” Jungkook mutters, kissing you. “One more, baby. One more for me and I’ll paint you with my cummie. Hm, you want that?” You’re gone, flung out of this world into a tranquil island. The palm trees, the sea and his cock. Your emotions are numb, body limp. All you feel is his cock, ramming and ramming into you. “Or you wanna swallow it for me like a good girl?”

��Swallow, please,” you croak out and Jungkook makes a sound of approval. Rewards you by giving you the full thing, filling you balls-deep.

“You feel me?” He kisses you, tugging your bottom lip with his teeth.

Glorious, glorious delight. You can’t breathe. Too much.

“I feel you—” You lift your head to look down where you’re connected. “I—I feel you in my stomach.”

Sitting back, he lifts your hips and palms the bulge just a little bit above your mound. Feels it move under him once he resumes fucking you. He replaces his hand with yours, keeping you distracted as he undoes the ribbon in your hair and ties your wrists with it. Right there above the bulge, where he fucks you. Then he latches onto your hips and jackhammers his cock into you, watching as your tits along with bunny bounce with each slam.

“You look so pretty like this, tied up for me, taking all that I’m giving you,” he says, thumbing your clit, making you cry out. “Such a good fucking girl for me. I’m bringing you up so well.”

“Daddy,” you call out and Jungkook nods.

“Yes, that’s right. Daddy is fucking you so good.”

White flashes. Seafoam. The pressure in your tummy deepening and deepening. The roar of the night sea and your body following—you come all over him, painting him iridescent with your dewiness. His joggers, dragged halfway down his thighs, his boxers are all ruined—pelvis, thighs and cock glistening. It’s such a beautiful image to you that it suffuses you with energy and you begin to speak.

“Please, come for me.”

Surprised, Jungkook chuckles. “Don’t you have orgasms to count down?”

The ever persistent need for control. You kiss him, slip your tongue into his mouth to shut him up and you struggle against your ribbon, for the feeling of kissing him without your hands makes you feel iffy.

“Five. I came five times for you just like you wanted,” you whisper. “You fucked me so good. I’ll never forget it.”

And it’s the truth.

Jungkook pecks you once deeply, humming into the kiss. He pulls out of you and whilst he strokes his cock, his fingers tug down the ribbon around your wrists. You take your place on your knees, gazing with awe and hunger at his shiny length. And as if he needed it, he plunges his fingers into your mouth for more lubrication. Then, grabbing your jawline gently, he pulls you in towards his cock, letting your lips play with his tip the way you like it as he jerks himself off. You flick your tongue under the ridge of his head and his length twitches, stunning you. You do it again, more rapidly, and you don’t stop until Jungkook begins to tremble. Pulling him inside your mouth, then out, flicking faster and faster. Repeat.

Jungkook grunts.

“Yes, like that, princess. Fuck, I’m gonna come for you.”

He announces it, but it still comes as a surprise when the first rope of hot cum spills onto your flushed cheek. You suck him harder for a moment before you stick out your tongue, eyes flick up, as he empties his balls for you, his hand never ceasing the swift tug on his length.

And he just keeps coming. Rope after rope. Liquid star after star.

And you swallow it all.

Spent, sweaty and breathless, he helps you swallow it. Dragging his fingers to the places your tongue can’t reach, he feeds you his cum and you suck on his digits. Your heart thuds in your ribcage, especially when he begins to play with your tongue, smiling down at you in that dopey way.

He pats you on the cheek once you show him you’ve swallowed it all.

“Good girl. Good little princess.”

That you are. A changed person for all eternity.

“Is your tummy full?”

You nod, beaming vehemently up at him, the aftertaste of the bitterness of his liquid stars still wafting through your senses.

The three forbidden words rise in your tongue, even though you don’t believe them—you think it’s just the opulence of new emotions and experience that forces those words on your tongue. But they remain adamant when he bathes you clean, when he brushes your hair and gives you his clothes to wear to bed. They provoke you right there on the tip of your tongue when he gives you his zipper hoodie to wear on his balcony once you tell him you need a smoke and he joins you, giving you his pack of cigarettes.

And they come off the edge, in a different form, when you tell him of how he changed you while you hold his hand and he caresses your damp strands with a cigarette propped between his index and middle fingers, kissing your cheek. The smoke fixes a makeshift halo around both of your heads. One body, one halo. Bound.

“You’re such a lovable person, Gguk.”

What you don’t know is that those mere words changed the entire trajectory of his life. Yours, too.

BACK to masterlist / read part one, read part two, part three

#jungkook x oc #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook smut #bts smut #bts imagine #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fluff #btscreatorscorner #kpop smut #jungkook one shot

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pathologicalreid · 21 days

Text

bringing your work home with you | S.R.

spencer shares details of a case with you - with a hands-on learning approach

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: smut (18+ mdni) content warnings: case information from 10x17 "breath play", erotic asphyxiation, choking, fingering, praise kink, aftercare, explicit consent, softdom!spencer, sub!reader, dacryphilia (ish), established relationship dl;dr. word count: 1.74k a/n: im no longer afraid of being perceived on the internet (lie) and will begin writing whatever i want (truth). including this.

“How was work?” You asked hesitantly, looking across the couch to where Spencer was sitting. He was lost in thought, although, you supposed if you had just returned from Wisconsin, you’d feel relatively similar.

Spencer hummed absentmindedly in response while flipping through the pages of the file he brought home with him. “The UnSub certainly had a unique signature,” he answered, dragging his thumb across his lower lip in thought.

You tilted your head to the side in curiosity, “Oh, yeah?” It wasn’t often that Spencer shared details of cases with you, usually because the information he’d be divulging was privileged, but you shuffled over a cushion in hopes that he’d share with you. “What was it?”

He reached over and ruffled your hair affectionately, “He had a particular affinity for erotic asphyxiation. Each of his victims had read this book, Bare Reflections, and that’s how he found them – through sexual fantasies.”

Furrowing your brows, you rested your face in your hand, “So like… sex choking?”

“Yes, love. Like sex choking,” Spencer said, not without humor, before getting up and going to the kitchen, asking you if you needed anything as he did.

When he returned, sitting down on the couch and flipping the file back open, you leaned to the side and said, “I never got the whole choking thing. Not being able to breathe never seemed very sexy to me.”

At that, Spencer closed the file he was scribbling in and set it on the coffee table, “It’s not meant to fully restrict your breathing. At least, not if you’re doing it properly.”

“And you know how to do it properly?” You challenged, raising a single brow at your boyfriend.

He laughed breathily at your test, “I know human anatomy well enough to know not to press on your trachea.”

You fail to hide the way your eyes widen when he speaks to you, his use of the words ‘your trachea’ implying that he is now thinking about choking you. “Cool,” you responded, your brain spinning as you began to think about Spencer’s hand on your throat.

“Come here,” Spencer spoke up, already grabbing your waist and sliding you across the worn leather of the couch. He carefully guided your body over his own until you’re straddling him – one knee on either side of his hips. “You’re a kinesthetic learner, you’ll do better with a hands-on approach.”

Letting a shuddered breath loose, you met Spencer’s eyes, “Hi,” you whispered, keeping your voice low as if you were sharing a secret in a crowded room. Without waiting for him to move, you ducked your head and pressed your lips to his. Quickly, Spencer’s lips coaxed yours open, allowing for his tongue to slip into your mouth.

Spencer’s arms wrapped tightly around you, pressing your chest to his so that you could feel the buttons of his work shirt through the thin cotton of your t-shirt. You were severely underdressed compared to him, lounging in just a t-shirt and underwear while he was wearing his work attire – it just added to the power dynamic you were navigating.

Gently, Spencer tugged at your lower lip, taking the flesh between his teeth before pulling away from the kiss. “Do you trust me?” He asked, loosening his hold on you, and instead running his hands down your arms in a soothing manner.

Straightening up, you nodded, “Yes,” you responded, reaching a hand up and grabbing a fistful of his shirt.

Lifting his dominant hand to your neck, your breathing faltered as he put his hand at the front of your neck, the thumb on one side and the remainder of his fingers on the opposite. “Is this alright?” He murmured, using his free hand to trace small circles on your inner thigh, leaving you wishing you could press your legs together in a desperate attempt for friction.

“Yes,” you repeated yourself, taking the inside of your cheek between your molars and sighing when he moved his hand from your leg.

Nodding assuredly, Spencer brushed your hair from your face, his dominant hand never straying from its newfound home on your throat. “Good, I’m going to keep asking because we’ve never talked about this before,” he informed you. “I won’t fully restrict your airway. If you need me to stop at any point, just tap my arm three times.”

His words led you to relax. The two of you left almost everything on the table, and you were usually good about discussing things ahead of time. You were sure he’d start doing things he knows you like in order to put you at ease. “Thank you,” you whispered, studying his golden irises.

“Such good manners for me, angel,” he praised you, noting the way your back straightens up when he does so. “When I squeeze the sides of your throat like this,” he said, keeping his voice gentle as his hand tightened around your neck, “I’m stopping some of the air from getting to your brain, which makes you feel lightheaded, and when I let go,” he released his firm hold, “You feel a release of dopamine, serotonin, and endorphins that make your head spin.”

As Spencer guided you through the process, you felt yourself getting needier. Humming lowly as you came down from the high, you noticed Spencer’s hand back between your thighs – you couldn’t tell when he had moved his hand, you were too preoccupied.

You held your breath as his hand slipped into your panties, “Hey,” he chided, snapping you out of your anticipation. “Don’t hold your breath,” he says sternly, “I won’t touch you if you hold your breath.”

Pointedly taking a deep breath, it took all of your focus to maintain your breathing as he gently slid a finger between your folds, the wet noise only muffled by the fabric of your underwear. Tentatively, Spencer slipped his finger inside you, swirling it around your inner walls before pulling it out and pushing it back in, squeezing the sides of your throat as he started fingering you at a steady pace.

“Do you feel that?” He asked, continuing the pace he had set, keeping his voice low as he spoke to you. “How when I squeeze your throat your cunt tightens around my finger?”

Reaching a hand up, you gripped his forearm and placed your other hand on his shoulder, trying to steady yourself and desperately needing something to do with your hands. You let out a soft moan as he easily added another finger to his ministrations, your volume growing louder as he released your throat. Your skin flushed as you bit your bottom lip and looked up to the ceiling.

Quickly squeezing your neck, Spencer brought your attention back down to him, “Keep your eyes on me, love.”

You nodded almost imperceptibly in response, blinking rapidly, but leaving your head where Spencer held it – gently forcing you to maintain eye contact with him as he started curling his fingers inside of you, pushing his fingertips against your inner walls. “Spence,” you whispered, letting out a low whine as you feel your orgasm beginning to build in your lower belly.

“Did you wanna cum? Make a mess all over my hand?” Spencer asked tantalizingly, resuming pressure on your throat before you even had a chance to respond to him. He was enjoying this just as much as you were.

As you maintained eye contact with Spencer, he began to press the heel of his palm against your clit, the pressure only adding to your lightheadedness. With his hand on your neck, your moans come out garbled, forcing their way through your body. “Fuck,” the word came out as a hiss as tears gathered in your lower lash line. Between the pressure on your clit and throat and the continuing ministrations of his digits, your orgasm built up quickly.

In-kind with the pressure on your throat, you squeezed firmly at Spencer’s forearm, and he watched carefully to make sure that you weren’t trying to tap on his arm.

Your tears flooded over the edge, slowly streaming down your cheeks. You blinked to clear your eyes, but you didn’t let your eye contact with Spencer waver.

A small whimper escaped your throat, and Spencer hummed, “There you go, angel.” He said, nodding as his fingers continued working you to your peak, “I know,” he cajoled when you whined again. “I know. Let it go for me,” he murmured, watching as your body shuddered.

Once your orgasm hits its zenith, Spencer released his hold on your neck, moving his hand to your shoulder to keep you upright while your pussy spasmed around his still-thrusting fingers. Endorphins flooded your mind, prolonging your orgasm for god knows how long until he finally withdrew his fingers from your underwear.

While you remembered how to breathe, Spencer moved his hand from your shoulder to your back, gently pressing on your spine and letting your body fall forward. “I knew you’d like that,” he whispered mischievously, and if you had the energy, you would have rolled your eyes. “How are you feeling?”

Groaning, you buried your face in the crook of Spencer’s neck, “Jell-O,” you responded simply.

Your eyes were barely open as Spencer reached over for a tissue box, wiping your slick off of his hand before slipping his hand beneath the waistband of your panties. You whined and tried to push his hand away, “I know, baby. I just want to wipe you up a bit.” He told you before gathering your wetness on the tissue, wrapping it up and placing it on the end table.

“Toss it,” you mumbled sleepily, ignorant of the fact that you’re still in his lap.

Wrapping an arm around you tightly, Spencer pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of your head, “When you feel like moving, I’ll clean up.” He reached over for a glass of water from the end table, grabbing it from its coaster and trying to hand it to you, “Come on, you need water.”

Sighing, you forced your eyes open, “’m tired,” you told him, reaching a shaky hand up for the glass.

Spencer kept a hand on the glass as you drank from it, setting it back down when you were done and smiling softly at your sleepy nature. “Rehydrating is a nonnegotiable,” he whispered gently, but you were already asleep - or close enough to it that you didn’t respond.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #criminal minds smut #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #dr spencer reid #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds oneshot #written by margot #mdni #margot after hours #softdom!spencer

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mitsies · 10 months

Note

I know this is like so random but do you have any geto, gojo, nanami, or megumi ao3 recs because the only good fics I’ve read of jjk are ones you’ve written 😭

you have come to the right place :,) i post more recs than fics at this point haha most of these are copy pasted off previous rec lists but have been added onto! the ones with green + marks are NEW RECS

here's a post on how to use ao3 to find fics by yourself for those who dont know <3

gojo + ao3:

+ intrinsic warmth: my favourite fic of all time. like genuinely. insane writing, fucking amazing in every sense of the term. 2nd time recommending this! reader's character is so sick BUT updates real slow (which isnt a bad thing!! good things take time!!) so i wouldn't read if you aren't patient // 122k words, 15 chapters, incomplete

+ ripverse: not really a series, more like a compilation of fics! it's got a lot of angst and the one titled 'interlude' contains smut i think so beware, and it's also a lovetriangle/poly-but-geto-goes-crazy-so-not-poly moment // 55k words, 8 pieces

+ the witches' brew: super cute fluff! reader owns a cafe, gojo is a regular, it's all around adorable // 2 chapters, 11k words, completed

+ all that is solid melts into air: arranged marriage trope! i haven't read but @/aanobrain loves this one // 7k words, 1 chapter, complete

+ cake batter: established relationship w/ dad!gojo & megumi <33 not much to say, just short n sweet, i am such a sucker for dad gojo so its no surprise there's one of these on the list.. // 2k words, 1 chapter, complete

+ best of luck: initial concept is really unique!! confessions, slight angst, takes place at the beginning/middle-ish of s1 i think? so cute loved this <;3 // 5k words, 1 chapter, complete

+ afternoon tea(se): gojo torturing megumi. classic !! so so cute love the banter // 1.7k words, 1 chapter, complete

+ my apologies, gordon ramsay: god i hate this man. jk. reader is a teacher and a functional human being; gojo is not. loved! // 8k words, 1 chapter, complete

+ a name known only to paper: platonic, angst- beautifully written, such a unique idea. reader is gojo's older sibling. // 3k words, 1 chapter, complete

+ heart beats: another collection! i looove gojo in this so so cute i also adore bff nanami in the last one haha // 11k words, 3 pieces

+ exposure therapy: this is 1/2 of a 2 piece collection. when i read this for the first time i was floored- i love the creative take, and the reader's character (it was a 'she's so me' moment). this author writes with such a subtle but unadulterated take on love and i adore it // 5k words

+ how to be a human being: 2/2 of the previous rec and the perfect continuation in every sense of the term. oh my gosh, is this masterful- from the relationships & writing of megumi and tsumiki to gojo (i almost forgot this was a rec for him) it's all around amazing // 20k words

+ the sanctity of a name: SO SENTIMENTAL !! what an adorable work that rly goes into the psychology and significance of his technique + upbringing. so real and raw and very him // 2k words, complete, 1 chapter

+ assumptions: omf jealous gojo...... he's so cute in this!! you guys are married and it's almost his birthday, but while you're planning his surprise party he suspects something else.. // 6k words, 1 chapter, complete

+ even with the lights off: RAHHHH another fic that has me floored and pushing the #saveijichi agenda at the same time // 8k words, 2 chapters, complete

nanami + ao3:

+ math help: dad!nanami w son!yuuji.... yeah that's all i really need to say i think! // 1 chapter, 2k words, complete

+ photo albums: nanami shares abt his childhood! // 1k wc, 1 chapter, complete

+ i don't really read for nanami but i would check out @aanobrain and maybe shoot them an ask bc she's a big fan :)

geto + ao3:

+ lessons in love: DAD!GETO.................. im such a sucker for a good family dynamic in fics and this is adorable !! no curse au if i remember right! // 4k words, 1 chapter, complete

+ forever is in your eyes: angsty but ends in fluff :,) touches on his mental state, riko's death, all that! so sweet, i adore how this author writes him <;3 // 2k words, 1 chapter, complete

+ ripverse: not really a series, more like a compilation of fics! it's got a lot of angst and the one titled 'interlude' contains smut i think so beware, and it's also a lovetriangle/poly w gojo-but-geto-goes-crazy-so-not-poly moment // 55k words, 8 pieces

+ dog days are over: a series!! by the same author who wrote ripverse which is how you know it's going to be brilliant !! marriage, parenthood, some nsfw moments // 30k words, 5 chapters, incomplete

+ curious cat: cat gojo and neighbor geto.. i love this one! it's so so cute and sweet, if you're looking for some light fluff this is definetely for you // 8k words, 5 chapters, complete

megumi + ao3:

+ complicit: college!au !! i remember reading this and loving it omg, the unique concept kept me hooked and interested, especially paired w the lovely writing! one of my fav series ive read. be warned, last chapter is nsfw // 18k words, 5 chapters, complete

+ a very special december 22nd: cute bday fic :,) forgive me for reccing all this author's megumi fics... theyre just too good !! i love the dynamics, all of it! // 5k words, 1 chapter, complete

+ kisses and cough syrup: THE BANTER!! THE FLUFF!!!!! i love this fic sm, so cute! // 1k words, 1 chapter, complete

+ nocturnal: establishING relationship fics are one of my fav genres and this hits the nail on the head.. he's so stupid silly in this and i know you'll love it like i do // 2k words, 1 chapter, complete

+ lover boy: 2nd year reader, annoying meddling gojo, placed at the beginning-ish where megumi gets beat tf up- what more could you ask for! // 2k words, 1 chapter, complete

+ difficult to not overthink: todo strikes again! you ponder megumi's type // 1k words, 1 chapter, complete

+ ten confessions: megumi: ten dif confessions in dif tropes each time, so they can all be read as stand-alone pieces! so so cute and beautifully written.. we all know i love a good confession // 19k words, 7 chapters, incomplete

+ therefore, i am: reader gets mixed up in the world of sorcery.. megumi's there, too! // 3k words, 1 chapter, complete

+ takes one to know one: flowershop au..... convulsing on the ground. my fav trope, ever, and so so cute oh my GOSH // 2k words, 1 chapter, complete

+ i really (x6) like you: fluff!! this is the one i linked in my og ask but it deserves a place here too <3 // 4k words, 1 chapter, complete

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #nanami kento x reader #geto suguru x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #getou suguru x reader #gojo x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #nanami x reader #this is the most i've written in ages LMFAO and i didnt even do anything.. but look at me!! replying to an ask on time!! unheard of honestl #mitz recs

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2-dsimp · 2 months

Note

I feel like Danny would be conflicted on if he would want to screw his darling when they're in a really well done sexy cosplay because of how hot y/n looks in it or not because he doesn't want their outfit ruined since cosplay outfits take a long time to do (makeup alone takes a while and if the outfit is handmade it is even longer).

Like, he's so horny seeing his darling dressed in such a hot and lewd outfit, saving many pictures for his "private" files, and dreaming of so many scenarios he could go at it like a rabbit with y/n, at the same time he would sob if even a small tear were to damage the outfit.

He's probably likely to keep the stockings/thigh highs on his y/n at the very least if he does take off the rest of their outfit while he's desperately going at it.

-a rambling anon

I do agree with that dearest rambling anon ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) NSFW,MDNI🔞 fem! Reader

Generally speaking being the lazybones he is Danny doesn’t necessarily have a high sex drive to begin with, as it’s mainly nonexistent.

Before meeting his darling he’d be too busy fanboying over his favorite anime creators and merch that he hoards like a dragon to even have the effort to jerk off. If it did go hard he’d just think about old grannies or cute animals so it’d soften leaving him with no distractions on his binging.

Overall he’s a lowkey kind of guy when it comes to his energy output emission. But once he meet his cosplayer darling, who had the uncanny ability to turn his off switch on in an instance. Before he knew it, Danny’s whole entire nonexistent sex life dynamic had shifted.

And being the weeb virgin he is, the first time around when yall decided to make love. The Boss would be overly nervous and excited making pathetic humps against your mound. Jaw slacked from just rubbing his leaking dick against your soft skin. Lacking any thoughts whatsoever inside his head. As he soon became a love sex zombie from the way your pussy put him in a trance.

He’d continuously praise and thank his goddess for letting him cream your insides with his filthy otaku cum. Since you’d pop his cherry and take his nut simultaneously in one sitting. The moment his mushroom tip got suckled inside your tight twat.

Btw Danny’s got an uncanny fixation with thick thighs he’s wanna get crushed in between them and suffocate just so he knows what heaven feels like★彡

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soaps-mohawk · 4 months

Text

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 9: Save Me

Summary: You find yourself confronting feelings as you move past the events that caused your distress, and as your heat begins looming closer and closer.

Pairings: Poly 141 x reader

Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, military inaccuracies, language, angst, panic, PTSD, mention of weapons, slight suggestive content

A/N: I feel like a broken record but I really don't like this one either, but I'm so ready to just get to this point in the story lol. I feel like I've dragged it on long enough. We're definitely reaching a point where things are shifting and changing and things might seem like they're moving kind of fast. Sorry for all the choppy time jumps too, I just wanted to get to this point in the fic 😭

MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->

A knock on the door pulls you from sleep. You groan quietly, wrapping your arms tighter around the pillow you're cuddling.

That pillow lets out its own groan, moving slightly.

“Gotta get up, love. Answer the door.” Your pillow grumbles, shifting in your hold.

You're wrapped around Gaz still, clinging to him tightly. You vaguely remember an alarm going off and Gaz rolling over to turn it off before you slipped back into sleep. Gaz had apparently fallen back asleep as well, or at least had stayed with you after both of your alarms going off.

Gaz carefully untangles your limbs from around him, slipping a pillow into your arms before rising from the bed. He stretches his arms over his head, a sliver of skin visible as he does so. You stare at it until he lowers his arms, your eyes already slipping closed again as he opens the door.

You hear quiet voices, the words lost on you as you slip further and further into a daze of sleep.

Until the smell of food hits your nose. Your stomach growls loudly, and you lift your head, squinting sleepily as you search for the source of the delicious smell.

“Morning, sweetheart.” Price's voice rumbles through your ears, his hand warm as it brushes over your head. “How do you feel?”

You let out another groan, leaning into his touch as his hand strokes your hair. You’re still sore, muscles aching like you had spent the entire day yesterday training. You feel less emotionally drained, not quite so overwhelmed to the point of near numbness now.

“Dr. Keller wants to see you after you’ve eaten.” Price says, pulling his hand back.

You let out a quiet whine, trying to chase his hand. He chuckles, gently nudging you back so you don’t topple off your bed. He slips his hands under your arms, moving you so you’re sitting on the bed. Your cheeks warm at how easily he does it, that warmth heating to an inferno as he sits on the edge of your bed with the bowl of porridge in his hand. You’re suddenly very awake as he holds out a spoonful to you, and you feel as if your face might burst into flames. His eyes are focused, lips turning up in a small smile as you let him feed you. You know it’s appeasing his alpha, just based on the pride practically beaming from him.

You hold his gaze as he feeds you the porridge, skin prickling from the attention as you cling to the stuffed strawberry in your lap. You can imagine him in your nest, holding you against his chest, feeding you in your heat-induced daze, making sure you eat and get plenty of fluids.

“You alright in there?” He asks, scanning your face.

You nod, trying to calm the inferno under your skin. “Yeah. Just thinking.”

The content smile on his face shifts, morphing into a smirk. “Must be some good thoughts, then.”

You nod, taking the glass of water he offers you and downing it.

“Get yourself dressed, then we’ll go see Dr. Keller.” He says, pushing himself up to stand.

“Yes, sir.” You nod again, letting out a yawn.

“If you’re not up in ten minutes, I’ll be forced to make you get up.” He says, giving you a playful smirk before leaving and closing the door behind him.

Your face warms again at his words. You’re half tempted to burrow back under the covers, if only to see if he’d follow through with that threat.

Dr. Keller said it would be a good idea.

You tell yourself that as you stand in Price’s office. The door is closed behind you, sealing you both inside together. His scent is heavy in the air, making your head spin. You wonder how long he’s been sitting at his desk, how long he’s been shut inside today.

“Grab a pillow.” He says, his voice thick and heavy. He sounds tired, and you wonder how much he slept last night. If he slept at all.

Your slippers make a scuffing sound as you shuffle over to the couch, grabbing the pillow you had used last time. You move over to him as he leans back in the chair, taking your spot next to him. You sit back on your heels, letting out a breath as you try and relax. His hand strokes the back of your head, giving you a moment to adjust to his touch before he slides it down to the back of your neck.

You fight the instinctual urge to protect yourself, stopping your shoulders from lifting to try and force his hand away. You’re still not quite used to it, the vulnerability making your omega squirm, especially after the events that took place yesterday.

You know you can trust Price, but your omega wants to bristle at everything right now. Perhaps you’re picking up on Price’s own exhaustion, his own stress bleeding into you.

His fingers press into your neck and your body relaxes almost immediately. Your mind begins to clear, and you feel as if you’re floating away from your body. All the emotions and the stress and the soreness in your body fades as you relax into Price’s hold. Warmth begins to flood your body as your omega finally settles, nearly preening as your alpha takes control, taking the weight of the world off your shoulders.

You can’t see Price’s gaze on you as he watches you kneel for him, lost in his own thoughts. How easily you relax for him, how trusting you are of him in this moment. You’re putting your entire being in his hands and trusting him with it, even though you’re practically still strangers. It hasn’t even been three full weeks since your arrival in their lives and already so much has happened. It feels like things are moving so quickly, but he knows they could move faster.

If he were a worse man, a worse alpha, he would have claimed you already. Taken what was his to take and cared little for you and your needs.

He’s not going to be that kind of alpha. He decided that a long time ago, long before you came into the picture.

You fall into him limply as he eases his hand from your neck, letting you rest against him and breathe in his scent. Your nose presses into his neck, your warm little breaths causing goosebumps to form on his skin. A quiet sound rumbles in your chest as you press closer to him, getting louder as you breathe him in.

You’re...purring.

Pride wells within him again. You’re comfortable enough to purr around him. He did that. He made you feel safe and comfortable enough to open up that much.

He slips his arms around you, rising from the floor to move to the couch. You continue to purr, the sound vibrating through you and straight to his inner alpha. The sound begins before he can stop it, his own chest vibrating as he answers your purr with one of his own.

He holds you close to his chest, purring contently as you slowly drift off in your relaxed state. Eventually your purrs die off as sleep takes you, but he continues to sit there, his own purrs vibrating in his chest as if they can reach through and soothe you even in your sleep.

“Too tight?”

You move your wrists, pulling slightly at the restraints. “No.” You shake your head.

“Good.” He runs a hand over your head, tugging at the vest, making sure it’s secured before he steps back. “Alright?”

You nod, shifting slightly in the wooden chair. “Yes, sir.”

“Remember, it’ll be fast and intense, but they’ll take good care of you. Don’t forget to play it up a bit. It’s good to know if they can focus in this situation.” Price says, running his hand over your head again. “And I’ll be watching the entire time.”

He leans down, pressing a kiss on your forehead before he leaves the room, the beta outside the door pulling it closed behind him. You tug at the restraints habitually, even though you could get out of them easily. Just like you could get out of the vest strapped to your chest and the chair you’re sitting in easily.

Hostage rescue training was not how you expected to spend your Thursday morning, but you suppose there are worse things you could be doing besides being restrained in a chair with a fake bomb strapped to your chest.

Price had told you about their training yesterday. You hadn’t expected to hear about how you were going to play hostage when he summoned you to his office, but it had been far too formal a request to be something simple. You had been hesitant when he explained, but the risk was small. They weren’t using live bullets, and the bomb strapped to your chest was hardly more than a bunch of wires and a timer counting down. Price had even ensured the restraints weren’t too tight, and had shown you how to slip out of them easily.

The worst part had been your mind running rampant while he secured the rope around your wrists.

You hear the distant sound of the helicopter dropping them off, the entire mood in the house shifting. The betas outside have a role to play, and so do you.

The sound of the door outside getting kicked in makes you jump, your heart rate kicking up. You know it’s them, you know it’s fake, yet you can’t help but let the emotions in the moment get to you.

They don’t know it’s you they’re rescuing.

Price hadn’t told them you were involved. He wanted to see if they could keep their heads in a situation like this. It’s important to know. Gives them something to work on if they can’t.

You hear the pop of the fake guns outside the door before two solid thuds shake the door in front of you. You hold your breath, your fingers shaking in the excitement and adrenaline as the door flies open. You flinch out of instinct, blinking at them as the three enter the room. It suddenly seems smaller with them in it, their surprise not lost to you, even in the tenseness of the situation. You know you’re scent is thick in the room, cutting through the trained laser focus in their minds as they run through a drill they’ve probably done countless times.

Something they’ve probably done in real life situations as well.

“Easy, sunshine.” Soap says, kneeling down in front of you. “Gonna get ye out of here.”

“You can defuse that, right?” Gaz asks, standing behind him. You know they’re both trained in demolitions. You remember that from their files.

“Course I can.” Soap says, looking at the wires.

The timer starts beeping in warning, your heart rate picking up instinctively. There wasn’t anything that would actually explode if he failed, but you can’t help the chill of fear settling in as he messes with the wires.

“Come on, Johnny.” Ghost says from behind you.

“I got it.” Soap growls out, sweat beading on his forehead.

You stare at him, your heart pounding in your chest. Time seems to slow as he studies the wires, the timer continuing to beep as it counts down. Even though you’re not in any danger, you still feel the fear welling inside you. He does know what he’s doing, he wouldn’t be in this position in the first place if he didn’t. Yet you can see the struggle, the hesitation, the uncertainty in his gaze.

He wouldn’t let you die, right?

“Ten seconds.” Gaz warns.

“Johnny?” You breathe, voice cracking as you meet his bright blue eyes.

He mutters a curse before cutting one of the wires. The tenseness in the room is palpable for a moment as all four of you hold your breath. The silence is loud, the timer on the fake bomb sitting still at six seconds. Soap’s head falls forward to rest against your chest as he breathes a sigh of relief. You’re shaking, fingers trembling as Ghost cuts the rope around your wrists.

“Hostage secure.” Gaz says into their comms.

“I wasnae gonna let ye die, sunshine.” Soap says, removing the vest from your body.

“Kinda felt like it.” You murmur as he helps you out of the chair, your legs shaking a bit from the adrenaline.

“Come on.” Ghost says as soon as Soap has you on your feet. “Captain’s waiting.”

Your legs still feel unsteady as you follow them out of the building and across the grass, hand clutched tightly in Soap’s. The fabric of his glove is rough against your skin, but you can still feel the warmth of his hand in yours. You lean against his side as you reach Price across the field, not missing the way his gaze scans you head to toe quickly before he addresses the others.

“Not bad,” Price says. “And the hostage is in one piece.”

You’re still shaking a little, but you can’t stop the smile that tugs at your lips. “Was kind of fun, actually, getting tied up and stuff.”

Soap and Gaz both let out groans at your words, Ghost rolling his eyes at your cheeky smile. The corner of Price’s lips twitch, and you can’t help but beam with pride at eliciting such a reaction.

“Let’s get back to base, and we’ll go over the specifics.” Price says.

You wind up in the back seat of one of the cars with Soap, his arm draped across the back of the seat. You’re leaning into his side, his fingers brushing your arm every so often as the car drives down the bumpy road.

“Ye called me Johnny.” He says quietly, leaning in closer to you.

You stare up at him. “You were going to let me explode.”

“I was not.” He says, looking offended. “I knew wha’ I was doin’” His brows pinch together, his hand cupping the back of your head. “I would never let anythin’ happen to you.”

“I know.” You say, leaning your head on his shoulder. “At least I hope so. Blowing up is kind of a shitty way to die.”

He huffs out a laugh. “Well, if it happened that way, ye wouldn’t be goin’ out alone.” He presses a kiss to your forehead. “Ye can call me Johnny anytime you want.”

You smile, snuggling deeper into his side. “Okay, Johnny.”

Your smile only widens as you pick up the subtle rumbling purr sounding from his chest.

“How are things?”

“Fine.” You shrug, sinking back in the chair.

“I heard you took part in the hostage training. How did that go?” Dr. Keller asks.

“It was fine, kind of intense but also kind of fun.” You shrug again, a smile tugs at your lips. “They didn’t know I was the hostage, so that was fun to see their reactions.”

“Was that reassuring to see them in action and have them pretend to rescue you? I know we’ve talked about that fear briefly.” Dr. Keller says.

“In a way, I guess.” You say. “At least, I know they could do it if they had to. I mean, not that I don’t trust that they couldn’t, but...it’s different.”

“It’s different when it’s someone you care about.” Dr. Keller says. “How are you feeling? I know we talked earlier this week, but distressing is a serious thing to go through.”

“I’m alright.” You say, picking at your jeans. “Not sore anymore. Price called off training for a while to let us both kind of figure things out.”

“Have you spoken to Lieutenant Riley since Monday?” She asks.

You nod. “Yeah. A couple times. I didn’t accept his apology, not that he really said sorry directly, but he at least...explained some things.”

“And it is totally within your right to not forgive him.” Dr. Keller says. “I applaud you for putting up that boundary. I know it’s not easy, but sometimes people need to work to prove themselves again.” She makes herself comfortable on the couch, staring at you. “How have you been aside from all the excitement? Have you started nesting yet?”

You shake your head, biting your lip. “No. I-I feel more comfortable now that I have things for my room, but...I still don’t feel like nesting.”

Dr. Keller hums, staring at you for a moment before she writes something down. “What do you think is causing this hesitance in your instincts?”

Your mouth opens in surprise at her question, not quite expecting it. You had spoken last week about things you might be able to do to help if you weren’t nesting by now. You had expected to start throwing out ideas in that regard, not that you would be digging into why.

“I’d like you to be honest with me. Remember this conversation will only ever be between us. No one else is going to hear this, no one else will ever see my notes. It’s just you and me.” She leans forward, putting her elbows on her knees as she stares at you. “Would you have chosen to be in a place like this, if it were up to you?”

“It wasn’t up to me. It never was.” You say, starting to sweat nervously a bit. It’s getting warm in the office.

“I know, but hypothetically speaking. If you had the option to choose, would you have chosen a place like this? A military pack?”

You stare at your hands, fighting the emotions welling up inside you. You wouldn’t have. You know that, you’ve thought about it over and over. You wouldn’t have put yourself in this position. You would have gone as far from the military and politics as you could have, had it been up to you. You want something quiet and easy with an alpha that loves you and takes care of you. Not...not this.

You’re crying. You can’t stop the tears that are trailing down your cheeks. You feel guilty for thinking that way. It’s not your choice, it would have never been your choice. You’re supposed to be a good omega and be okay going wherever you’re told to, with whatever pack picks you.

They hadn’t chosen you.

They hadn’t wanted you here. Price had fought against your addition to their pack up until you arrived. You know Ghost has his own opinions about your presence here. They had been told they were getting an omega and you had been told you were going to be that omega.

Would they have chosen you?

You wouldn’t have wanted them to.

Dr. Keller says your name quietly, her tone sympathetic as you sit there and cry. You’re crying for the life you were supposed to have, the life you could have had, the many things that would have been different had you just been a good pup and presented like you were supposed to.

“I don’t want to be here.” You sob, burying your face into your hands.

You feel guilty, admitting it, even if it is the truth. Your pack has been nothing but kind and supportive, aside from the incident earlier this week. You like them, all things considered. You can imagine yourself being happy with them. Was it what you wanted, though? Was this where you would have elected to spend the rest of your life?

No.

“Can you tell me why?” Dr. Keller asks softly.

Her question only makes you cry harder. You could. You could tell her exactly why. You don’t want to bring up those feelings, those memories, those emotions. You want to leave them behind in the past, buried under everything you learned that made you such a good omega. It would ruin everything, if that got out, if those feelings came to light again.

Your breaths are coming in gasps as you sob, Dr. Keller rising from the couch. She grabs a stuffed animal from her closet, walking back over to you. She eases it into your arms, pressing it against your chest.

“Squeeze. It will help.” She directs you, dropping to a knee beside you. “This has something to do with the military, doesn't it?” She says softly, putting a hand on your back. “I know your father served and you spent most of your childhood on bases. Was there something that happened?”

You take deep breaths, squeezing the bear against your chest as tight as you can. “I can’t.” You sob, shaking your head. “I can’t.”

“Okay.” She says, gently rubbing your back. “That’s okay. Deep breaths.”

You continue to breathe, trying to calm the tears. Dr. Keller continues to rub your back, trying to ensure you don't slip into distress again. The calming beta scent floods your nose, reaching back into your brain to calm the turmoil.

Slowly your breaths begin to even out, and the tears slow to a stop. You’re still clutching the stuffed bear to your chest, arms wrapped around it tight.

“You’re doing a good job.” Dr. Keller says, grabbing a box of tissues for you. “You’re handling this whole situation better than I think a lot of omegas would. But, that doesn’t mean you have to be okay with it. I’d be more concerned if you weren’t struggling a bit. You don’t have to tell me everything, you don’t have to tell me anything. It’s all up to you. I just want you to know that I’m not going to judge you for anything, and I’m not going to tell anyone anything. I’m here for you, and you alone.”

You slowly release your grip on the bear, your hands still shaking a bit. Dr. Keller moves back to the couch as you stare down at the plastic eyes, running your fingers over its soft fur.

“I do think it would be a good idea to address the nesting issue sooner rather than later.” Dr. Keller says, still speaking softly. “We don’t have to get into the why until you feel comfortable enough to, but you need a nest before your heat starts. I have a couple exercises in mind to help maybe jumpstart those instincts, but we’ll need Captain Price in on this issue as well for them to work. I can speak for him on your behalf, if you’d like. I won’t tell him any details.” She says as your eyes dart up to look at her. “Only that there’s a nesting issue and there’s some exercises I’d like the two of you to try.”

You let your gaze drop back to the bear. You know you need to start nesting, and with your heat rapidly approaching, you’re beginning to be pressed for time. Your heat could start as soon as next week and if you don’t have a nest...

“I guess that’s fine.” You say, staring back down at the bear in your hands. “If you think he can help.”

Dr. Keller nods, a small smile tugging at her lips. “I think he can.”

“Thank you for meeting with me, Captain Price.” Dr. Keller says as they take a seat in her office. “I just wanted to preface this conversation by saying I was given permission to discuss this with you, because we both agree you should be made aware of what’s going on.” Dr. Keller shuffles her notes as Price sits there, back straight in the chair. “Frankly, if I’m being honest, I’m starting to get a little concerned about my patient.”

“Concerned about what?” Price asks, brows pinching.

“She’s not having nesting instincts.” Dr. Keller watches Price’s face as she speaks. “Even with what you did for her, buying her things to make her more comfortable, she’s not getting that urge to make a nest. I know you’re aware that’s a crucial piece of a successful heat, and with that looming ever closer, I’m worried about her.”

“What do you think is causing it?” Price asks, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

“I’m not sure, yet. I did promise I wouldn’t reveal any details about anything, but I do feel comfortable saying, as I’m sure you have figured out, there’s a lot of trauma behind that institute taught, if I may be so frank, bullshit.”

The corner of Price’s mouth twitches. “Not a fan of institutes?”

Dr. Keller shakes her head. “No. I’m not. There’s many professionals that share the same sentiment. They’re hardly the nurturing and cultivating places they present themselves to be, though I’m sure you’re figuring that out yourself. It’s always been about control and profit. The current model most of them use is outdated and has been proven in study to be highly ineffective. There are some places here in Europe that are beginning to reform institutes and what they teach, taking a more omega-centric approach, instead of just priming them for future alphas and packs.”

“Can it be undone, the things she was taught?” He asks, purely out of curiosity. “The way she thinks about herself?”

“I think so, to a degree.” Dr. Keller answers. “You’re already seeing it a bit. She’s already having her beliefs and understanding challenged. Supporting her through that will be an important step in your bonding. The best thing you can do is support her and prove her institute taught beliefs wrong. I think you’re doing a fantastic job already, as is she.”

“What can we do about the nesting?” He asks.

“I have a couple exercises in mind I’d like to try. I’ve used one in practice before in a different situation. It was at one of the institutes I worked at after I was certified as an omega specialist. Two omegas were brought in off the streets. I can’t give too many details but they’d been through something very traumatic and had bonded intensely with each other. They couldn’t be separated at all without slipping into near distress. Of course, institutes don’t allow those kinds of bonds as it’s hard on the omegas when they reach selection age. So, we did an exercise where I had both scent a stuffed animal and then gave them each other’s so they’d have something tangible to focus on. Then we started slowly working on separation, using those stuffed animals so they could keep the scent of the other close. It worked, eventually they were able to be apart. I’d like to try the same thing, but to the opposite effect. I’d like you to scent a stuffed animal so it can be used as a sort of symbol, something tangible she can use to represent you.”

“A way to introduce me into her nest without having me there invading her space.” Price says.

“Exactly.” Dr. Keller smiles. “Having an alpha’s scent around her might help induce not only that feeling of comfort she needs, but may also help induce those instincts to nest. Doing it this way prevents the risk of discomfort by having an alpha invading her space directly, while still allowing for the introduction of an alpha’s scent.”

“Alright. What else do you think might help?” Price asks, running his hand over his beard.

“Another exercise, this one more tactile in nature. This particular one she can do herself, though she may choose to involve you later as she gets more comfortable doing it. I know she’s kneeling for you already, which is fantastic. Some omegas don’t kneel until after being claimed. That she feels comfortable enough to do it already is a good sign. She’s already had these exercises explained to her, but I would like to meet with you both to walk through them again, and in the end, it’s her decision what happens.” Dr. Keller gives him a small smile. “Do you have any questions?”

“What can be done if these exercises don’t work?” Price asks.

“There are a couple other things that can be done, though they’re far more invasive. I wouldn’t even suggest them unless she’s showing clear signs of pre-heat symptoms and still hasn’t nested yet. They have their risks, and that’s not something I’m willing to gamble on unless it’s absolutely necessary.”

Price hums quietly. “Is there anything I could be doing differently to help?”

“I think you’re both doing fantastic jobs with the hand you’ve been dealt. It’s not an easy situation and the fact she’s made as much progress as she has is remarkable, honestly. My job’s been fairly easy so far. I was expecting a lot worse when Laswell briefed me. That being said, there’s still a long way to go.”

“Thank you, Doctor.” Price says, shaking her hand. “You’ve been a big help.”

“It is my job.” Dr. Keller shrugs. “Remember, I’m always here if you have any questions or concerns. I may be an Omega Specialist, but that also includes the omega’s pack as well.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Price says, giving her a smile. “And I’ll be sure to tell your brother you said hello.”

Dr. Keller smirks, huffing out a laugh. “Yeah, remind him to call his sister every once in a while, while you’re at it.”

You run your fingers over the soft fur of the teddy bear. Your eyes flutter closed as you let Price’s scent wash over you. You clutch the bear to your chest, wrapping your arms around it tightly as you lounge on your bed. You bury your nose in its fur, breathing in Price’s earthy scent from it.

A quiet sound begins to rumble in your chest as you hug the bear tightly. A small, content smile pulls at your lips as you curl up in a ball around the bear, purring quietly.

It’s been so long since you purred.

You haven’t since you were a pup, still young enough to find safety in your home, before you really understood much of anything that was going on. You only ever purred with your mother, snuggled up in the nest with your siblings, warm and content and safe.

Your dad never purred. Or, you never heard him do it. You remember the deep growls that rumbled through his chest, the scent of ozone. The warning that made you bristle, even as a pup, that tickling feeling at the back of your neck almost like your brain knew years before you even presented.

You wrap your arms tighter around the bear, letting Price’s scent flood your mind and wipe away the fear, the feelings, the emotions mixing together. Price isn’t like that. He was so willing to help you, to jump in and do what it took to make the best of a situation that neither of you had a say in. Just an alpha and an omega bound to duty, forced to follow what someone else says. How very much alike your lives are, and yet, so vastly different.

That’s why you’ve found comfort in him so quickly, you think. You understand him. He may be a captain, he may be pack alpha, he may be a leader, but he’s not in control. Not completely. There’s still someone behind the scenes, pulling the strings, telling him where to go, what to do. Someone’s pointing him in a direction and it’s his duty to follow.

You were never going to be in control. You were born a subordinate, and you had been cursed to always be one by your presentation. Your entire life would be dictated for you, by someone telling you what to be, how to act, where to go, what to do. There would always be expectations for you, someone behind the scenes pulling the strings.

Your presence here is full of expectation. You weren’t just bonding with a pack as your duty, there was expectation for it. You had been sent here with a purpose, leading an initiative that could shape the future of many omegas to come. You’re not just an omega chosen by a pack that wants one.

You’re part of a government initiative. Your whole purpose is to see if adding an omega to a pack of highly trained soldiers really will improve their effectiveness and proficiency.

Falling in love with them is just a side effect of your own mission.

Love might be a strong word for it. It wouldn’t matter to those watching your progress if you hated them. You’re supposed to bond with them, be their omega. Prove that it’s worth it, that the strengths weigh out the potential vulnerabilities. Then hundreds of omegas stuck in institutes will be trained to follow in your footsteps.

You wouldn’t wish this on anyone.

You’re lucky they’ve been so good to you. You’re lucky you’re beginning to feel it, those spaces in the back of your mind that have been empty for years beginning to fill as your omega comes to accept her pack. The betas anchoring your omega, the alphas surrounding and protecting.

You'll do your duty. You'll bond with them. You'll mate with Price. You'll allow him to claim you. You'll be their good little omega.

It won't be the worst life.

They at least care about you. Gaz and Soap have shown interest in you and mating with you themselves. Ghost...you've got a long way to go with him still, but you're beginning to make some headway into earning his acceptance.

Price...Price has begun to show some interest as well. You've knelt for him, kissed him, allowed him into your space. He calmed your distress, bought you items to help make your space more comfortable. He scented a stuffed bear to help you nest.

He'll treat you nicely, or at least you hope he will. He'll lose himself to his rut when you go into heat, and you've heard plenty of horror stories. You know what to expect, from the best to the worst. You could come out the other side mated and content, or you could come out half mauled to death. There's no way of knowing. Price will be a slave to his instincts just as much as you will be.

You don't want it to be like that.

You don't want your first encounter with the opposite sex to be lost to the haze of your heat, something that could potentially put your life at risk. How long has it been since Price has had an omega? You know he has. He's too calm, too collected around you to never have had experience with one before.

Will he treat you well? How will he touch you? You can't imagine him as being a selfish lover, but you won't know. You won't know until you're dazed with lust as your body yearns for release, for an alpha's knot.

You could find out beforehand.

The thought has you sitting up in your bed. You could pursue that with Price before your heat starts. There's no rule that says you can't before your heat. You know there's omegas that don't wait. There's alphas that don't wait when omegas join their packs. Price could have taken you that first day if he really wanted to.

Would he have bent you over his desk? Done it in his room or yours? Would he have done it in the meeting room in front of the rest of the pack? Staked his claim like some primal alpha?

The thought has warmth pooling in your stomach. The mental image of Price taking you in front of the others, sinking his teeth into your neck as he stakes his claim, marking you as his.

“Fuck.” You breathe, clenching your thighs together.

You could ask. What's the worst he's going to say? No? You'll just retreat in shame and hide out until your heat begins in embarrassment. He was so willing to do what you wanted, what you asked of him. Would he say yes if you asked him? If that's really what you wanted? Does he want it? Does he want you?

All you have to do is ask. You're allowed to want things, to desire things. Everything you've asked for so far, you've gotten.

The heat between your legs only confirms it. You want this.

You want Price.

Your hands are shaking as you reach for the door handle. He had given you permission to enter already, but your nerves make it feel like you’re moving in slow motion as you wrap your fingers around the nob, turning and pushing inwards. His eyes are on you as you slip in, closing the door behind you. You can’t read his face as he sits there, staring at you in your baggy shirt and leggings.

“What’s eating you, pup?” He asks as he stares at you, watching you fidget nervously.

“I wanted to ask you something.” You say, shifting your weight between your feet.

He reaches out a hand, motioning you closer. You approach his desk slowly, taking his outstretched hand. He guides you in front of him, lifting you to sit on the desk. He leans back in his seat, staring up at you. “You can ask me anything.”

You bite your lip, staring down at him. His hands come to rest on the edge of the desk on either side of you. It’s comforting, supportive, instead of constricting as it might have felt just two weeks ago. It only furthers your belief that you’re making the right choice, that this is what you want.

You stare down into his eyes, your hands coming to rest just beside his on the desk. “I want my first time with you to be before my heat.” The words come spilling out quickly, almost so quickly you’re not sure he caught them.

He stares at you, surprise flickering across his face for a moment before he’s back to the straight-faced captain again. “You’re sure?”

You nod. “I want to remember the first time. It’ll make me feel better after we...have to do it. I think...it’ll help me feel less like...I had to.”

Price moves just slightly closer to you, understanding shining in his eyes. “If that's what you really want.”

You nod, sliding your hands until they're resting on top of his. “It is.”

He turns his hands so can hold yours. “Saturday, then. Let me make you dinner and then we'll go from there.”

Your stomach flutters at his words, skin tingling as his thumbs rub the backs of your hands. “You want to wine and dine me first?” You ask playfully.

“Call me old fashioned.” He smirks.

“Maybe just old.” You mutter, shrieking out a laugh as he wraps his arms around your waist, tugging you into his lap. The chair creaks precariously but you know he'd break your fall.

“You want to take that back?” He murmurs, your face inches from his.

“Depends on what my punishment will be.” You say, your nose almost brushing his.

He chuckles deep in his chest, lips brushing yours as he speaks. “You'll have to wait for Saturday to find out.”

Taglist:

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#call of duty #call of duty fic #cod fic #poly tf 141 #omegaverse #alpha/beta/omega dynamics #a/b/o #captain price x reader #john price x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #gaz x reader #soap mactavish x reader #john mactavish x reader #soap x reader #x reader #tf 141 x reader

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honey-doc · 2 months

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Why I appreciate Kabru and Mithrun's relationship in the story (with pictures!)

I just want to express how much I loved reading through the chapter with the 6 days they spent together and how I think their relationship developed in a pretty sweet way.

I feel like a lot of people reduce their dynamic to "nurse and patient" and that makes me sad because I personally got a lot more from it than that.

I do wanna start off by saying I'm here appreciating their dynamic as it is in the text.

Read more (spoilers ofc):

The beginnings

When they first met, there was an air of intimidation surrounding Mithrun as the captain of the ominous Canaries. He demonstrates his proficiency as a fighter and leader which worried Kabru because he knew it would lead to the dungeon falling into elven hands once again. But this threatening aura begins to dim in Kabru's mind as they get to know each other.

Even before they fell down the hole, the both of them ended up relying on each other's abilities a number of times (when the underground governor turned out to be corrupted Mithrun defeated him and Mithrun needed Kabru's deduction skills during the battle on the first floor) which is already the beginning of a great dynamic

(Kabwu is scared but Mithrun just asks for his help)

After Cithis tasked him with "taking care of Mithrun's needs" for the time being, Kabru treated Mithrun with proper respect and doesn't take advantage of his disability, even using his title “Captain” when he knew Mithrun wouldn’t have cared either way after learning about how he lost his desires. This is in contrast to Cithis who immediately took advantage of her position to mess around with Mithrun when she was taking care of him.

(When Cithis was put in charge of taking care of Mithrun)

The whole time Kabru is with Mithrun, he treats him like a person and more than just someone to be taken care of, as also he relies on Mithrun's fighting skills, knowledge of the dungeon, and teleportation magic.

When you reduce their dynamic to just "caretaker and patient", you're ignoring Mithrun's own capabilities and making him seem totally helpless. It actually feels rather ableist. They have a more balanced relationship with what Mithrun brings to the table than you may think. Mithrun couldn't have survived down there on his own, but it's the same for Kabru (who famously dies every time he fights)!

Kabru doesn’t show signs of trying to manipulate Mithrun either, and he's no longer intimidated by him in the slightest once he learns he’s not a threat or after his life. Though he does instinctively revert to his "sparkly" persona to get Mithrun to eat the disgusting mushroom, it doesn’t work so Kabru just has him eat it normally and never tries it again. This is the beginning of Mithrun unintentionally encouraging Kabru to be more honest with others.

(Kabru realizing he can chill out)

(Kabru being unreserved and Mithrun being silly)

bonus funny moment:

Bonding

Throughout the journey they talked to each other, shared things with each other, and ate with each other. And Kabru expresses genuine concern about whether Mithrun is comfortable (which is something he could live without and wasn't something the Canaries told him to do).

(Kabru showing he wants to make him comfortable by making food for him which is a very important part of the narrative)

(Kabru sharing intimate memories with Mithrun)

(Kabru initiating conversation without hesitation or worry. This part also is referencing how Mithrun shared very important details of his life with Kabru. Kabru also ends up trusting Mithrun with information about Laios despite knowing he could possibly tell the other Canaries about him and impede his plans..which he does lol they do end up knowing about Laios before meeting him.)

For a bonus Lycion implies Kabru was taking better care of Mithrun than they had been which is interesting to me.

Mithrun also shows that he has come to trust Kabru's decisions over the Canaries' when he says he wants to stay in the dungeon after fulfilling the caretaker requirement. They did talk to each other a lot, during that time. I wonder what Mithrun's Shapeshifter double of Kabru would look like now?

Here, Kabru goes out of his way to make sure Mithrun doesn’t overexert himself by knocking him out after the demon leaves with Marcille (again, when his time taking care of him is already over), and I think that demonstrates an extra level of concern he holds for Mithrun.

(Kabru holding back a hellbent Mithrun)

(KNOCKOUT!)

He even managed to make Mithrun mad. It's probably because he "let the demon get away" but I think it's cute and funny because would he huff like that at anyone else? Lol

When the demon breaks through the surface

Kabru begins panicking after Laios turns into the giant monster because he's wondering if he made the right decisions etc. If Mithrun didn’t care about Kabru at least a little bit, he would’ve just left him alone when he started losing it (right after Marcille did the same thing and she is technically more to blame for empowering the demon than Kabru was for not allowing Mithrun to go after it), but he went out of his way to snap him out of it.

It also means a lot to me that Mithrun even says Kabru's name, because in Japanese you can go your entire life without referring to someone by name and it wouldn't sound wrong (just rude) and it's the first time Mithrun says Kabru's name on screen (I checked).

Though it was with a slap, I think it says a lot, because if Mithrun didn’t care at all he wouldn’t have done anything and left him alone. It's not like Kabru could've done anything to stop the demon. He didn't even to tell him to do anything even though Kabru looked ready for an order.

(To be honest I don't know exactly why Mithrun starts beating him up here but you can say it's another rare demonstration of emotion Kabru was able to evoke in him lol. Maybe it's payment for Kabru stopping him the first time. That can be interpreted as paying it back and/or paying it forward I think.)

The last few chapters

And in the end when Kabru’s motivating Mithrun to continue living his life, he speaks to him like they’re friends/have no rank between them despite using the Captain title for him the whole time. Even Lycion initially gets upset that he’s acting “too familiar” with Mithrun.

It feels like Mithrun changed so much in the short time he spent together with Kabru and before the final battle, and it’s thanks to Kabru that Mithrun finally starts to be able to move past his lingering obsession with the demon and begin to really heal.

This is despite the fact that he spent so much time with Milsril and the other elves who never managed to break through to him like that.

(Before Kabru) (After Kabru)

And even after his role as Mithrun's caretaker was loong complete, he still shows concern for Mithrun and tells him to take a break when he's using up all his magic to slice the Falin meat (lmao).

He didn't need to do that! But it shows how he at least slightly considers Mithrun some kind of friend.

It all culminates with Kabru helping Mithrun regain his wil to live and Mithrun confiding in Kabru. Their relationship is important. Kabru continuing to do things for Mithrun to me is more of a sign that he just plain cares about him. Isn't it normal when a friend needs medication for you to remind them to take it? I think it's like that.

Kabru is there with Mithrun when he comes out about his feelings of uselessness AND when Senshi helps him put a spin on the 'vegetable scraps' metaphor and he find meaning in his life again. He's the first one to see him cry :')

Along with the fact that it feels like Mithrun is the first person we see Kabru doesn't feel the need to change his personality with or put on airs for since Mithrun doesn't need buttering up and he won't get offended if someone were to say something socially awkward, I think they made a pretty good team!

BUT ALSO the REAL reason I became endeared to them is cute shit like this:

GOD I love them!!!!! There are so many funny sides to Mithrun Kabru was able to bring out, and really show his charm as a character. Mithrun also brings out the best in Kabru while Kabru’s the most genuine he’s been since his debut with Mithrun. We are able to see that he’s just a kind and caring person, rather than the shady obsessed guy most fans have come to believe him to be.

The true depths of their dynamic also grew on me over time :)

TLDR

All in all it’s so nice seeing how even though Mithrun is a really deadpan person, and Kabru is a really secretive and withheld person, they clearly seem to have developed some kind of bond while they traveled together and even changed each other to an extent.

Doesn't Kabru feel more honest near the end? Maybe it's because of how much he talked to and shared with Mithrun during those 6 days so candidly...because they taaaalked a looooot like wow.

They mean so goddamn much to me. I don’t need them to be in a romantic relationship but I do want them to be together forever :'))) or like at least hang out when they have off time since they're still in the same country lol. Praying for Kui to make another side comic of them some time (crying).

Thanks for reading if you made it this far, I mostly arranged this because it makes me sad to see people reduce their dynamic to only one singular aspect.

Anyways ya...love 'em (heart hands)

#dungeon meshi #dunmeshi #mithrun #kabru #kabumisu #MITHRUN DESERVES MEANINGFUL RELATIONSHIPS TOO DAMMIT!!!!!#i wasn't gonna ship tag it buuut w/e #omg i just came up w something #you can reduce their dynamic...but all you'd end up with...is a nice sauce #for like..steak..get it? reduction..cooking..no ok #also for an extra i think it's highly unlikely kabru met mithrun as a kid because he showed NO signs of recognizing him when they met #like KABRU of all people would remember lol

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crashandlivewrites · 5 months

Text

Hear the Dogs Howling

Dedicated to the lovely @soapsgf for allowing me to ramble and bounce ideas off as I wrote this, along with being so sweet and helping me grow my confidence. This is for you.

Pairing: Dom!Ghost x fem!switch!reader x switch!Soap

Summary: Soap doesn't know how to stay quiet during sex. Tonight is no different. When you finally knock on his door to get him to tone it down, you walk in on a scene you weren't entirely expecting to see.

CW: MDNI 18+ content, NSFW, MMF threesome, oral (m receiving), fingering (f receiving vaginal; m receiving anal), anal sex (m receiving), mild dubcon as Soap is initially choking on cock but he's into it, minor pet play (Soap is referred to as pup)

Read on Ao3

Soap was a noisy neighbour. There was no other way to put it. You’d been rooming next to him for a good while now ever since you were placed on the task force, and he always found a way to disturb your peace. Whether it was the sound of his music, or telly being up too loud, or his booming laughter as he chatted on the phone, or his or his partner’s noises of pleasure as he fucked them into the squeaky bed the base provided.

Sure, you might have been jealous, picturing him above you, behind you, beneath you instead of them. Yes, you may have also touched yourself listening to his moans, wishing he was making those sounds for you, but you thought better of actually doing something about it. Pushed those feelings deep, deep down. Ruining the team dynamic, especially when you were the newest member put you more at risk than the others of transfer, or worse, discharge.

Shaking your head, you broke out of your chain of thoughts, biting your lip as you tried to focus on the report before you. Price wanted it by tomorrow. Demanded it by tomorrow. Cursing, you rested your forehead on your palms, trying to keep yourself awake as the half-empty cup of coffee remained stagnant next to you. Two pages left. That’s all you had to get through.

And then you heard it. A muffled moan from next door. Fucking Soap and his inability to keep it in his pants for more than a few days.

Clenching your teeth, you snapped your head over your shoulder, glaring at the wall as if you could curse him into silence. But, knowing Soap, this was only the beginning. The man knew how to fuck, and had the stamina to keep on going, meaning if you didn’t put a pin in this now, you were going to be listening to the sounds of your teammate fucking for the next few hours.

Sitting in your chair, you debated for a few minutes, wondering if it really was something you wanted to walk in on, or interrupt at the very least. Tapping your foot and the pen in your hand in a steady rhythm, you tried to focus on the report before you, but after another five minutes of staring into empty space and the sounds from next door filling your head, you caved. Pushing the chair back, you marched over to your adjoining wall, banging on it harshly.

“Keep it down, Soap! I have shit to do for Price.”

You thought that would be the end of it. But it wasn’t. As though he was intentionally trying to spite you, the noises got progressively louder, more frequent. You’d slammed on the wall more times than you’d care to admit before you finally snapped.

Slamming your door open, you march over to Soap’s room and bang your fist against his. But instead of it being solid, the door gave way, swinging open to reveal a scene you’d never thought you’d walk in on. Instead of Soap being on top of a pretty girl, he was on his knees, stark naked with his lips stretched wide around a thick cock that was being shoved down his throat. And not just any cock. Ghost’s cock. Your mouth sagged open slightly as your eyes flicked over the pair of them, taking in Soap’s bare form and comparing it to Ghost’s fully clothed one.

Making a small noise of protest, Soap shuffled his weight on his knees and went to pull back, but Ghost was quicker, gloved hand reaching down to grip Soap’s mohawk firmly, keeping him pressed into his crotch.

“Ah! Did I say you could move, pup?” Ghost’s voice was stern and deep, stirring something deep inside you. In reply, Soap whined, blinking up at the larger man. It was only then that you noticed tears streaming down his face. Your breath hitched as you finally turned your gaze towards Ghost who was staring directly at you.

His dark eyes were sharp and calculated, locking you in place as you stood stock still in the doorway. It was like your shoes were rooted to the spot and you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the erotic scene even if you tried.

“You just gonna stand there and gape at the slut?” Ghost cocked his head to the side, his eyes squinting in amusement. “Or are you gonna make yourself useful, Sergeant?”

The resolve in you crumbled. If Ghost and Soap could fuck with seemingly little consequence, surely you were fine to join as well. Feeling the heat bubble inside you, and your heart thump in your chest, you knew there was only one correct answer moving forward.

Swallowing thickly, you shut the door behind you.

Despite the balaclava covering his face, you could see the interest spark in Ghost’s eyes at your actions. His eyes crinkled as he looked down at Soap, who whined pitifully, drool leaking out the sides of his mouth as he held position.

“Seems like you’ve got another playmate, pup.” Ghost rumbled, carding his fingers through Soap’s hair gently as you walked forward, steps muffled by your socks on the wood floor. “You gonna put on a show for our guest?”

Soap moaned, wet lashes fluttering as glanced between you and Ghost before beginning to bob his head in a slow rhythm along Ghost’s cock. The masked man let out a sharp hiss, fingers gripping Soap’s hair roughly as he grunted in pleasure. You stood there, less than a metre away from the pair, watching, feeling the heat of arousal spread through your body, accumulating between your thighs. Your mind raced, wondering how exactly you were going to fit into this scenario, but that question was answered when Soap reached a hand up towards you, stretching out his fingers.

You kneel down next to him, lacing your fingers through his as his mouth continues to work. Soap’s own cock was rock hard, twitching slightly between his parted legs as the tip drooled pre-cum, pooling on the floor beneath him. He squeezes your hand in thanks and moans prettily, glancing towards you through the corners of his eyes and you grin, leaning in to purr into his ear.

“You’re doing such a good job, pup. Putting on such a good show for me, aren’t you?” Despite the Ghost bullying his heavy cock down Soap’s throat, he whined at your words, opening his mouth even wider to accomodate the thickness. You cooed at him encouragingly, your other hand tracing circles on his back as Ghost groaned.

Thrusting his hips forwards, he bumped his dick into the back of Soap’s throat causing him to gag. You could see the bulge of his cock every time he bucked his hips forwards, yet Soap swallowed eagerly, one hand laced in yours and the other resting on his thigh, twitching with every bounce of his cock.

It was now your turn to stare up at Ghost from your position on the floor and you almost wished you hadn’t. He was a sight. Large and imposing as he stood over the pair of you, eyes darkened with lust as he stared. Your mouth went dry as his mere gaze sent another rush of desire through you, shivers running up your spine as you squeezed your legs together, trying to stave off the lust. He reaches a gloved hand down to cup your cheek, then your neck, tipping your chin up to hold your attention.

“Can I touch him?” You breathed, voice barely audible over the excited yet muffled noises Soap was making at your words.

“Good pups don’t touch themselves.” Ghost answered, brow raising. “He can cum from just sucking me. Sure you don’t wanna see that?”

You had to admit, watching Soap cum without any direct stimulation would be enticing, but you couldn’t wait. You needed to touch him. After months of hearing him fuck, and presumably be fucked, you were finally getting to live out your deepest desire. You shake your head, keeping your eyes fixed on Ghost.

“Not right now. Wanna stroke his cock and watch him lose his mind as he gets you off.” Ghost simply cocked his head to the side before turning his attention back to Soap, but it was Soap who reacted viscerally. His hips stuttered; cock bobbed between his legs as he began to tremble. You felt a sly grin flash over your face.

“Look at you… so excited to be touched? Is that it?” Releasing his hand, you move your own to stroke his thigh, running your hand along the inside, feeling his muscles twitch beneath his skin. “Such a good pup, aren’t you.” He nodded as best he could with a cock down his throat.

Reaching down between his legs, you swipe a finger through the small pool of pre-cum on the floor and move to circle the head of his cock with your fingertip. He whined, hips canting forward to seek more stimulation, which you granted. Wrapping your hand around his cock, you began to stroke him with a light grip, in time with the bobbing of his head. Soap shivered, his eyes fluttering closed at the feeling of your hand touch, and he built up a steady rhythm, causing your hand to move quicker. He moaned, eagerly swallowing down Ghost’s dick to the base, causing him to hiss, gloved fingers tugging at Soap’s mohawk.

“Good fucking pup. Look at you. Swallowing me so well. Makin’ a fuckin’ mess as you do.” Ghost’s dark eyes flicked over to you, before reaching over and cupping your cheek. Breath hitching, you raised your head up to look as him as your hand continued to work over Soap’s slick cock.

“You’re bein’ such a good girl too. Takin’ care of my pup. Makin’ sure he doesn’t get too antsy. Can be a right pain in my ass sometimes.” You could hear the smirk in his voice as you ducked your head, glancing away from him and back to Soap who was pumping his hips forward, desperate for the pace to increase. His eyes flick to yours pleadingly and his hips moved, brows pinched together as he made a muffled noise of impatience.

“Stop touching him.” Ghost growled his command as he yanked Soap’s head back as you pulled your hand back quickly. Letting out a multitude of protests, Soap’s brows furrowed as he glared up at Ghost.

“The fuck did ah dae?” His tone was petulant, accent thick as he coughed, heaving air into his lungs.

“Bein’ fuckin’ impatient, pup.” Ghost leaned down, leering at Soap who squirmed under the stern gaze. “We have someone nice enough to come in and touch that needy cock of yours, and you’re actin’ like a brat. Rein it in, or I’m gonna fuck your face like a slag I’m payin’ and leave you hard and leaking.”

Soap kept his head low, but you could see the pout evident on his face. His eyes remained cast down as he nodded in response to Ghost’s words before reaching back up to fill his mouth. A strong hand pressed to his shoulder, stopping him going any further.

“Open your mouth and use it for fuckin’ words like your s’posed to.” Soap glowered, huffing before he turned his head towards you.

“Sorry fer bein’ impatient. Ye can touch me how ye want.” You smiled at him for a moment, before Ghost’s fingers tapped on your cheek, turning your attention to him.

“Keep him in line, or after I’m through with him, I’ll show you how to properly keep a pup in line.” His soft, yet deep voice sent shivers down your spine, and you felt wetness pool in your panties, sticking to you.

“Yes sir.” Ghost let out a barely audible breath at your submission as his thumb stroked along your cheek bone.

“Keep that up and maybe I’ll fuck you too sweet thing.” Your mouth parted as your head tilted back, angling slightly as Ghost stooped lower, as though he was about to kiss you through the mask before he pulled back. Wrapping a hand around the base of his thick cock, he fed it into Soap’s open and willing mouth, cupping the back of his head before thrusting deep. Soap gagged at the sudden intrusion but kept the dick deep in his throat as he swallowed around it.

Spitting on your hand, you wrapped it back around Soap’s cock, mixing between long, languid strokes down his full length and quick, sharp ones over his dripping head. Soap trembled at the changes, body shaking slightly as he remained still for you. Cooing into his ear, the pace of your hand increased slightly.

“Look at you, pup. Sitting so pretty for me now, aren’t you. Bet you look real sweet when you cum too.” Soap moaned out an affirmative, one of his hands cupping the back of Ghost’s muscled thigh as his other reached for your leg, resting high up near the apex of your thighs, but refusing to lift any higher until he was told so. You grinned at his good behaviour.

“Yeah? You wanna cum for me? Wanna be a good boy and spill all over my hand?” Soap moaned again, eyes rolling into the back of his head as he continued to suck off his teammate, messy and sloppy as drool dripped down his chin.

“Oh, fuck yeah, love. Make him moan like that again.” Ghost grunted; eyes closed as he continued to shallowly thrust. Not wanting to displease either man, you tightened your grip and swept your thumb along the ridges of Soap’s cock head, teasing his frenulum as you went. Letting out a keening sound, Soap’s dick twitched in your grip as his hips bucked into your hand, the grip on your thigh tightening.

“You’re so close, aren’t you?” Leaning forward, you whispered into Soap’s ear, before mouthing kisses down the line of his neck to his back as your other hand cupped his ass. “Come on, pup. Do it. Do it for me.”

The cock in his throat meant the moan came out garbled, but his hips jerked forward erratically as he reached his climax. With every heavy twitch of his cock in your hand, a thick pulse of cum shot out, adding to the mess already on the floor.

“Fuckin’ hell pup.” Ghost growled, both hands now gripping at Soap’s hair as the pace of his hips picked up, shallowly thrusting into Soap’s mouth as he moaned, eyes still rolling from his climax as Ghost used his teeth to take his right glove off before pulling out and stroking his cock roughly, releasing his load over Soap’s face, grunting as his whole body shivered, breath coming out in short pants.

Once he’d finished, Ghost tucked his cock back into his pants, before pulling the chair up from Soap’s desk and sitting down. Unsure of what to do next, you glanced over at him, brows furrowed slightly as you waited for direction. Noticing, Ghost cocked his head to the side, before his eyes squinted appraisingly.

“Soap could learn a thing or two from you, love. So well behaved, you are.” You went to face him, but he held up a hand, stopping you from moving any further. “The pup’s quite messy there. Why don’t you give him a hand cleaning all that up?”

Eyes widening, to glanced over to Soap, who was dragging a finger through the mess of cum on his face and holding it out to you.

“C’mon, bonnie thing. Show how good ye can be fer him. Fer us.” Soap’s eyes darkened as he stared at you expectantly and suddenly, you realised precisely how fucked you were.

Your eyes followed his hand as he held it out towards you, Ghost’s cum dripping down his finger enticingly. Without further thought, you leaned forward on your knees, lips closing around the outstretched digit. Soap’s eyes widened slightly as he glanced over at Ghost, his mouth dropping open slightly as you licked and sucked his finger clean of cum. Pulling back, you swiped your thumb over his cheekbone, and then, keeping your eyes fixed to Soap’s, you sucked your own thumb clean as well.

“Fucking Christ, hen.” His tone was breathy, his hands reaching out to push you down onto your ass on the cold floor. Your hands flew out behind you to break your fall as he nudged his way between your legs, pressing into your space with an intense need. “S’fuckin bonnie fer me. Been listening to me fer months, haven’t ye?” He whispered into your ear as his hands groped greedily at your body.

“Gonna make ye feel s’good, I promise.” You were barely able to process his words as he tugged at your shirt, shucking it up and tugging your bra down to expose your breasts so he could latch onto one with his teeth, moaning as he did so. Letting out a sharp gasp of pain, you smacked his shoulder, eyes staring down at him accusingly. Soap released your breast and pouted.

“Ye’ve got such bonnie tits, hen. Couldnae help maself.” His mouth spread wide in a toothy grin as he reached out to cup the breast he bit, squeezing it apologetically as his eyes traced over the marks his teeth left. “Wanted ye fer months. Thought ye wouldnae have me.”

“I wanted you.” You breathed; eyes wide with surprise at his confession. “Always did. Thought it ruin things. Thought that it wouldn’t be professional.” Even in your ears, the words were a weak excuse. Soap’s grin spread even wider.

“Touch yerself at the sound of me, aye?” His hands roamed your body, roughly groping at every piece of bare skin he could access. He lowered his mouth to your tits once more, sucking the nipple tenderly this time, tongue laving over the swell of your breast as he moaned. “Was extra loud fer ye too. Hopin’ ye’d break that door down sooner. Didnae take ye as the patient type.”

“Shut up.” You hissed, arching your back as his hand reached for your other nipple, tweaking it between his fingers. Lifting a hand up, you carded it through his hair, tugging at the strands lightly, his mouth still firmly attached to your breast, sucking dark, claiming marks into your skin.

“Tug it harder, love.” Came a rumbling voice from behind you. Breath hitching in surprise, you glanced up, remembering Ghost was still in the room watching the two of you intently. One hand sat at the seat of his pants, rubbing softly and you couldn’t help but moan at the sight. Blinking once more, you turned your attention back to Soap and, heeding Ghost’s instructions, tugged at the mohawk a little firmer. Soap let out a soft sigh, his eyes fluttering slightly, but it wasn’t enough to break his attack your chest.

Closing your hand over his hair tighter, you pulled roughly, harder than you’d meant to, but you were rewarded with a strangled moan as you wrenched Soap back from your chest. His eyes were glassy as his hips canted forwards. Ghost mumbled his praise at the action, and you felt a stir in your chest.

“That’s nae fair, bonnie.” Soap growled. “Ye’ve had ye fun teasin’ me.” His brows furrowed as he pulled back, making you lose your grip on his hair. Moving quickly, he pinned your wrists above your head with one hand as the other reached for the buttons of your pants.

“Gonna show ye what I dae tae wee sluts who play dirty.” His eyes were wild as bore down on you, nose brushing against yours. You could feel the heat of his breath fanning across your cheeks. “Gonna tease ye till yer gaggin fer ma cock.”

Before he could make another move though, a sharp whistle sounded, and you both snapped your heads up in Ghost’s direction. He was lounging back on the chair, head tilted and resting on one first as the other cupped his bulge. His eyes narrowed towards Soap.

“Thought I trained you better than that, pup. Manners.” The tone was stern, unwavering and was met with a soft whine from Soap. “Take her pants off and finger her pussy. If you make her come, you’ll get a reward.”

As though the instructions sparked something in Soap, his rough hands turned soft as he began to caress your body, slowly sliding up your sides to remove your shirt and bra properly. He cooed; eyes soft as they roamed appreciatively over your body. He dragged his hands down your torso, trailing down to the waistband of your pants. His breath was coming out in heaving pants as his fingers made quick work of the buttons, pulling both your pants and underwear down in one go.

“Steamin’ Jesus hen.” Soap groaned, throwing the clothes to the side so he could return his hands to your body, sliding over your ass and up your legs before spreading them apart, eyes focused on your soaked cunt. The heat and desire in his eyes alone made your cunt pulse. “Jus’ wanna sink ma teeth into ye.”

“Play nice, pup. Don’t wanna break your chew toy too early.” Ghost muses from his spot. Your eyes meet his and suddenly, you realise just how exposed you were. Soap may have also been naked, but the way Ghost’s eyes were roaming over your bare body and grinding against his palm made your face heat.

“Cannae help maself, Lt.” Soap leaned down, mouth trailing kisses along your thigh, working his way down towards the apex of them. His teeth dragged over the sensitive skin, leaving red marks, but not hard enough to break skin. You felt your body jerk as his warmth breath fanned over your leaking cunt and you whine pitifully.

“Please… Soap. Need it. Need you.” Your hands pushed through his hair, gripping tightly as you tried to angle his face towards your wetness. Groaning at your impatience, he lowered his mouth, flat tongue dragging a line from your hole to clit. Letting out a shuddering gasp, you arched your back, fingers tugging at his mohawk to hold him close. But that didn’t last long.

The chair creaked as Ghost pushed himself up, boots heavy as he marched over and wrenched Soap’s head up unkindly, causing him to cry out. “I said, finger her pussy, not eat it, impatient slag.” He spat in Soap’s ear, voice low and harsh. You whined at the loss, bucking your hips up to chase his mouth, but Ghost’s hand pushed you back down. “Look at you both. Such greedy fucking whores. You take what I tell you to.”

Your brows pinched as you stared up at Ghost.

“Please Ghost… please I need it. Need his mouth on me.” Reaching out, you clasped your hand over one of his thick forearms, squeezing as your eyes pleaded up to him. Ghost sighs, bringing one hand up to sweep the hair from your face as he leans in to whisper into your ear, other hand still firmly gripping Soap’s hair, causing him to huff petulantly as he was dragged away.

“The pup’s gotta learn to listen, love. I’m not punishing you, yet anyway. If you’re good, and you cum on Johnny’s fingers, he can eat you out. Got it?” He leaned back slightly, eyes soft as he waited expectantly for your reply. Nodding in response, you went to look down at Soap again, but Ghost’s rough hand in your hair stopped you. “No. Words, love. If I ask you a question, you answer it with words.”

“Yes, I got it.” You breathed; eyes glassy as you stared up at him. “I’ve got it sir. I’m sorry.” Ghost let out a gentle sigh, hand releasing your hair as he stroked your chin tenderly.

“There’s a good girl f’me.” His gaze then hardens as he turns to face Soap. “Remember the rules, pup. You listen to me. Now finger her wet cunt until she cums or you won’t be getting your dick wet.” Soap’s nose crinkled slightly; brows furrowed as he stared at Ghost.

“That’s nae fair, Lt. The lass was leakin’. Pure gaggin’ fer it.” His hands run gentle lines on your inner thighs as he spoke, and you felt the anticipation rising.

“Then make sure to use those fingers to make it good for her and she’ll get it. You always yabber on about how good you are at pleasing pussy. Show me, then.” Ghost cocks his head expectantly and you felt like nothing but a toy for Soap to play with in that instant, and boy if that didn’t send a fresh wave of arousal down your spine.

“I’m better with ma mouth than ma fingers.” He sulked, pouting up at his superior.

“Then you’d better learn quick, Johnny.” Despite the mask, you could hear the grin, see his eyes crinkling as he waved his hand towards your cunt. “Go on, pup. She got you off with her hand. Return the favour.”

Mumbling incoherently, Soap trailed his fingers towards your wet cunt, eyes flicking up to meet yours and smirking slightly. Dragging the tips of his fingers through, he gathered your wetness and began to circle your clit slowly. Shuffling forward slightly, he leaned over you before hesitating and turning back to Ghost.

“Can ah suck her tits?” His question was measured, as if he hated asking permission, but thought better of it. Ghost chuckled behind the mask.

“Good pup for askin’. Does she want you to suck her tits?” Soap snapped his head down to you, eyes wide as pleading. Grinning, you nodded encouragingly.

“Please, Soap.” Grabbing at your breasts, you shoved them together enticingly, causing Soap to moan and lean forward, burying his face between them, tongue dragging over the warm flesh before his mouth closes over one nipple, sucking intently as his fingers flick over your clit.

Moaning softly, you spread your legs wider, encouraging him to keep going. And he did. His fingers were on the rough side as he continued to roam, trying to find what you liked. Reaching down, you moved his hand slightly, positioning it exactly how you liked it, and he took it on board, working his fingers in this new spot as his teeth closed over your nipple, making you cry out.

“Pathetic. Needing to be shown where she likes it pup. Can’t find it on ya own?” Ghost rumbled, shaking his head as he continued to brush a hand through your hair tenderly. “Look at her cunt, weeping and clenching round nothing. Come on, pup. You’re not even trying to make her cum.”

Soap whined at the words and, desperate to prove himself, his fingers moved to circle your hole before pushing two in. You hissed slightly at the sudden stretch of his thick fingers but moaned as his thumb continued to flick over your clit and clenched down on his fingers.

“Curl them upwards.” Ghost whispered, his other hand trailing down to where Soap’s was between your legs. You twitched as you felt the rough material of his gloves against your sensitive pussy. “Get that spot right in here.” You couldn’t stop the loud moan that broke through your lips as Soap followed the instructions, hand reaching down to grip at his wrist as your hips ground against his fingers, building up a steady rhythm.

Grinning darkly against your chest, Soap continued to suck at your breasts, squeezing and nipping at the sensitive skin as your pussy squeezed around him, slick dripping down onto the hard floor beneath you.

“That’s it, bonnie. Fuck yerself on ma fingers. Can feel ye clenchin’. Dinnae ye wanna cum fer me? Ye can dae it.” He rambled; voice muffled against your chest as he quickened his pace at your clenching.

“Don’t speed up.” Ghost admonished him, smacking his hand down where Soap’s was inside you, causing you to jolt. “If she likes it, keep steady. She’ll let you know if she wants the pace changed.” You moaned in response to Ghost’s words, one hand clutching at Soap’s wrist, the other reaching for Ghost to squeeze him in thanks.

“Just like that, Johnny. Keep it like that!” Panting, you continued to grind down on his fingers. He pulled off your tits, leaning down to spit on your clit before bringing his other hand over to rub over it like you showed him before. Gasping, you squeezed around his fingers tighter, feeling your impending climax build. His hungry eyes bored into yours, his face twisting into a leering sneer.

“Feels good aye? Gonna cum, bonnie? Make a mess all over ma fingers?” Unable to form a coherent sentence, you whined, hand squeezing his wrist to hold him inside you, pleading silently for him not to pull out. “Nae goin’ anywhere. Stayin’ right here til ye cum.”

Your eyes rolled as you moaned, head falling back, only for a rough hand to grasp your hair and pull you back up.

“You keep lookin’ at him, love and you don’t look away. Show him how fucked out you look when you cum.” Ghost’s words were harsh as he positioned himself behind you but sent a sharp bolt of heat through you and Soap moaned as he felt your cunt clench and pulse. “Yeah, that’s it, love. Be a good girl now. Show him how good he’s makin’ you feel.”

“So fu- ah! So fucking good, sir.” You blinked up at Ghost, whose eyes were wide and feral. Adjusting you slightly, he pressed his hips into your back, and you felt his stiff erection pressing against your shoulder.

“Feel what you’re doin’ to me? Feel how hard you’ve made me? Been such a good girl yeah? Lookin’ so fuckin’ pretty with your fucked out face when you ain’t even had a cock in you yet.” Panting at Ghost’s harsh words, you glanced back down at Soap, eyes wide and desperate.

“I’m gonna cum. Soap please! I can’t...” He shook his head, body trembling.

“Give it tae me, hen. Please. Been such a good fuckin’ lass fer us. Show me how bonnie ye look when ye cum, aye?” Your brain was going into overdrive, stimulated by not only Soap fingers, but his and Ghost’s desperate words, the intensity of their eyes on you… you felt yourself crumbling, careening towards the edge as one more flick of Soap’s fingers sent you over.

Jerking your hips, you cried out, body shaking as Ghost wrapped his arms around you, cooing in your ear and talking you through your orgasm, but you couldn’t make sense of the words. Soap’s fingers softly worked you through your release, slowly pumping in and out of you until he felt your body sag. Withdrawing his digits, he held them out to Ghost, a sly grin on his face.

“Wanna taste, Lt?” Looking up lazily at the two of them, you noted Ghost’s narrowed eyes. But they weren’t focused on Soap due to his coy request, but rather his glistening fingers soaked with your climax. Pulling the balaclava up to expose his mouth, Ghost leaned forward, sucking Soap’s thick fingers into his mouth, moaning at your taste. Whining softly at the erotic sight, you reached back behind you, trying to wrap your hand around his clothed cock, but his gloved hand stopped you.

“Not right now, love. Need to see Johnny fuck you.” He whispered, squeezing your wrist tenderly before lifting himself up a little straighter. “C’mon pup. I can see you leaking from here.”

“Och, I thought I was eatin’ her out next!” He grumbled, body already halfway shifted to put his head between your legs.

“Plans changed. You can eat your cum out of her. Need to see her crying on a cock, now.” His voice was urgent, as he pressed his palm into his aching erection. “Don’t keep me waiting.”

At the warning, Soap scrambled back up your body, lowering his head to capture your lips in a kiss for the first time. His tongue pressed into your mouth, sweeping over yours as he shuffled his legs up until you felt the heat of his hard dick against your sensitive pussy. Everything about him was demanding and insistent, impatient as one hand clawed at your breast. The other was wrapped around his cock, sliding it up and down the length of your wet slit, catching your clit with his head and causing you to jerk. Breaking away from the kiss, you surged up, eyes transfixed on the glistening head of his cock, covered in your slick.

Grinning savagely, he pressed inside, both hands gripping at your hips as he let out a throaty groan as your own breath stuttered, reaching out to grasp at his arm for stability.

“Steamin’ hell she’s tight, Lt. Like she’s nae been fucked in a wee bit.” His nails dug into the skin of your waist, surely leaving marks that would remain for days after. Ghost grunted and you heard him unzipping his pants. Glancing over, you watched as he pulled out his heavy cock, thick and hard with his tip flushed and leaking. Tugging his glove off, he held out his hand to Soap, who spat on it without a second thought. Then, he held his hand out to you with an expectant look. Without hesitation, you spat in his palm as well and he moaned, closing his hand around his cock and pumping it steadily.

Before you’d even gotten accustomed to his size, Soap began to thrust, hard and fast from the get-go. He buried his face into your neck, whining and rambling nonsense about how good it was, but most of it was incoherent, his accent thickening as he continued to erratically slam his hips into your cunt. You hissed, the pace bordering on being not pleasurable as he grasped your hips tighter.

“Soap…” you whined, pressing against his shoulders, but the man was unmovable, lost in his own head. Your eyes flicked up desperately to Ghost, who huffed, shuffling down Soap’s body to place a resounding smack on his ass. Yelping, Soap sprung up, cock pulling out of you entirely as he spun around to glare reproachfully at Ghost.

“That hurt, Simon.” He pouted, brows furrowed. Ghost snorted, clearly not feeling sorry.

“You’re pathetic, pup. Losing your head the moment you get your dick in something warm, and you wonder why I don’t let you fuck me.” Soap ducked his head, face flushing as he let out a whine of protest.

“Felt so good, Lt. Couldnae help maself. Her bonnie pussy was grippin’ me like a vice.” He glanced over at you, eyes apologetic, but with a spark of lust, as if he enjoyed Ghost telling him off.

“Not just about you, pup. Do I need to show you how to fuck a pussy?” Soap shook his head indignantly, turning his back on Ghost to bring his attention towards you. Running his calloused hands down your legs, he wrapped them around his waist as the head of his cock caught against your wet hole. Moaning, he slides back inside with ease, hands reaching for your tits once more as he set a better pace, rolling his hips and catching your clit with his pubic hair every pass.

“Fuckin’ hell.” He growled, mouth lowering to latch onto your nipples, tonguing over them as he continued his slow, grinding pace. “Such bonnie tits. Such a bonnie cunt too. Fuck lass, ye been holdin’ out on me. Could have fucked ye sooner if ye weren’t so stubborn.”

Between Soap’s praise, his rocking hips, and the insistent press of his cock inside your cunt, you felt like you were melting into the floor below you.

“Just like that, Soap. God, your cock feels so good in me.” Your hands dragged red lines down his back, causing his pace to stutter and pick up again. Moaning, you felt your second orgasm edging closer as he continued, bucking his hips up to grind against the spongy spot his fingers had fun into before. Ghost kneeled just off to the side, stroking his dick in time with Soap’s thrusts, grunting every time he swiped his thumb over the head.

“That’s it, Johnny. Keep fucking her like that. Doing a good job for once, pup. Touch her clit like she showed ya too.” Soap’s face was flushed as he nodded along with Ghost’s words, reaching down between you. His hips stuttered as you clenched around him at the contact, moaning as his pace fumbled again, legs shaking as his thrusts sped up, breath coming out in short pants. You whined softly, feeling your orgasm fade with the change in pace. Scoffing, Ghost moved behind him, gripping Soap’s hips to halt him once more.

“Losing your head again, pup?” He titters, shaking his head as he mouthed along Soap’s neck. “I’ll show you how to really fuck her, since you clearly can’t without blowing your load early.”

Soap smacked one of the large hands off his hips, glaring over his shoulder.

“Fuck off. I can fuck her just fine. You can wait ye fuckin’ turn, ye bastard.”

Instead of being offended, Ghost chuckled darkly.

“You’re losing her when it starts feelin’ too good for you. But don’t worry pup. I won’t be fucking her.” His arms reach down, tracing over Soap’s to place his hands on your hips as well, holding you steady. At the look in Ghost’s eye, you whimpered softly, cunt squeezing around Soap, causing him to twitch. “I’m going to fuck you into her. Still got that plug in ya, right slag?”

Your eyes widened, realising what was about to happen. Soap was practically vibrating between your legs, breath stuttering as his eyes became unfocused.

“Wouldnae be able to hold it if ye fucked me too.” His voice cracked as he stared over at Ghost.

“Too bad, pup. Already showed me you can’t fuck a pussy properly. Need me to show you how. You alright with that, sweetheart?” He glanced over Soap’s shoulder as his hands reached down to toy with the plug in Soap’s hole that you hadn’t noticed before. Your eyes were wide as you nodded fiercely before remembering Ghost’s earlier request.

“Yes sir… want you to fuck him into me please.” With the mask still lifted up above his mouth, you could see his appreciative grin.

“Good fucking girl. Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you what you need.” He reaches his hand down to your mouth, holding out his fingers. “Get them wet f’me, yeah?” Nodding, you lean your head up, sucking his fingers into your mouth, letting saliva pool on your tongue before swiping between the thick digits, tasting the lingering muskiness of his cock on them. Ghost let out a deep rumbling sound in his throat as he began to shove his fingers deeper, pressing down into your throat, gagging you slightly. Cooing softly, Ghost stroked the pads of his fingers along your tongue. “That’s it, love. Just like that.”

Between you both, Soap whined, tipping his head back to rest on Ghost’s shoulder.

“Please, Simon. Please.”

Withdrawing his fingers, Ghost pressed his thick digits into Soap, causing him to fall forward, hands either side of your head as his cock twitched inside you. Breathing softly, you watched his face crease, his brows pinching as his mouth hung open.

“Fuck Si… right there!” He gasped, breath hitching as he rocks his hips back onto Ghost’s fingers, and forwards into your wet cunt. His hands clenched into fists as he opened his eyes to stare into yours before leaning down and sealing his lips over yours once more, hips beginning that same slow, filthy grind. Wrapping your arms around his neck and holding him close, you pressed your tongue into his mouth in a messy kiss, swirling it around his.

Your head grew hazy as time passed and you felt your orgasm returning as Soap picked up the pace of his grinding, stimulating your clit as his hands tweaked at your nipples.

“Fuckin’ hell. Still so fuckin’ wet from earlier, pup.” Ghost withdrew his fingers before pressing the blunt head of his cock, catching it against the rim of Soap’s hole, causing him to jerk, fingers digging into your hips. “That’s it, pup. Open up f’me. Let me in ya.” One of Ghost’s large hands wrapped around Soap’s neck, pulling him up and breaking your kiss with him. The other gripped Soap’s hip, pressing in slowly with a loud groan until his hips sat flush against Soap’s. Releasing his neck, Ghost placed his other hand on your hip, squeezing you softly. He set a slow, but harsh pace, hips smacking into Soap’s, causing his cock to punch deep into you as he did so.

Letting out a choked gasp, Soap fell forward again, burying his face into your neck and peppering the sweaty skin with nipping kisses as his hips were pushed forwards into you. Rocking back against him, your hands clutched at his hair desperately, cupping the back of his head as your other hand reach out to Ghost’s thick forearm. Your head was spinning, a strangled noise leaving your mouth as Soap’s tongue dragged its way up your neck.

“Tastes so good, hen. Feel so fuckin’ good too. Wanna feel ye cum ‘round me, please.” One hand tangled in your hair as the other reached down to your clit once more, sending shivers down your spine.

Ghost continued his pace, the loud slapping of skin filling the room as his breathing grew heavier. Soap was also growing desperate, driving his hips forwards and backwards, stimulating himself over and over as his thumb continued to flick over your clit.

“That’s it pup. Doin’ s’fuckin’ well.” Reaching down, Ghost added his own thumb to the mix, flicking over your clit to make sure Soap didn’t lose his rhythm, his eyes catching yours. “Fuckin’ hell look at you, love. So bloody pretty. Can barely look at me, can ya? Cock feels that good, yeah?” He chucked, whispering something inaudible into Soap’s ear as you arched your back, feeling that brink edge closer.

“Ghost… Soap.” You weren’t sure which name to call as you felt your body twitch, pussy clenching around Soap’s cock as he continued to buck his hips into your wetness. You could feel yourself beginning to spiral, eyes locking onto Soap’s face as he panted heavily, a soft whine leaving his lips after every one of Ghost’s heavy thrusts.

“Bonnie… tell me yer close… I’m so fuckin’ close. Need tae feel ye cum first. Please… fuck, oh fuck please. Need it real bad.” Soap practically whispers, one hand clutching at your breasts, your hips, your legs as his other still pressed between you both, covered by Ghost’s larger one.

“Good fuckin’ pup, Johnny. Beggin’ for her to cum ‘n all.” Ghost’s voice was rougher, sweat beaded on his brow as he quickened his pace, fucking into Soap with angled thrusts that made him shiver and whine. “Come on love, you can do it. You can cum for him. Make the pup feel real good, yeah?”

All you could do was nod and moan, fingers digging into weathered skin as your cunt began to pulse rhythmically. One final hard thrust from Ghost pushed Soap up deeper into you as their combined thumbs over your clit sent you hurtling off the edge. As your toes curled with the sensation, your back lifted off the hard floor, hands clutching at the two men desperately as your head spun.

Soap followed soon behind, thrusting quick and sharp up into your clenching cunt before releasing inside, cock twitching and releasing his load deep inside you as he shook with pleasure.

As he shivered through his orgasm, Soap leaned forward, collapsing on your chest as your arms wrapped instinctually around him, both panting in tandem. Not wanting to be left high and dry, Ghost pulled his hips back and set a merciless pace, pounding into Soap’s hole until he began stuttering.

“So fuckin’ tight, pup. Both of you… so fuckin’ pretty. Good fucking sluts. So good f’me. Gonna fuck both of ya next time. Wanna see how good you sit for me, love.” He rambled, eyes half closed as his pace turned erratic until he slammed his hips forward with a low grunt, stomach clenching from the effort as he emptied his load deep into Soap.

Moaning softly at the feeling, Soap stirred, looking over his shoulder accusingly.

“Ye ken I hate shittin’ out cum, ye eejit.” He grumbled, nestling his face into your chest, his soft cock slipping out and resting wetly against your thigh. Grimacing slightly, you glanced up at Ghost, who had a dazed smile on his face. He looked at you, as though assessing the situation before he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.

“Get over it, Johnny. You beg me to cum in ya more often than not.” He shook his head before returning his attention to you, cupping your cheek softly. “Did so well for me, for us. You up for doing this again?”

Without hesitation, you nodded, eyes wide and hopeful as Ghost grinned, pushing back from the bed and standing up.

“I’ll get cloths from the bathroom. You take care of our girl, right Johnny?” Soap simply hummed, burying his face further between your tits as Ghost scowled, but smiled and walked away.

“I’ll eat ye out in the mornin’ hen. Good wake-up call fer ye.” He rumbled against your chest.

Grinning to yourself, you threaded your hand through Soap’s hair, holding him close as you felt yourself settle, being lulled to sleep by the warm body that was sprawled on yours. Price’s reports could wait.

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kitsuneoftheorganization · 1 year

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i would like to hear all your thoughts about ai hrgfkfjdk he is such the character ever. his whole character arc and that last duel with yusaku absolutely devastated me :')

HHHHJAKSKSJSK okay number one I absolutely love characters who at first seem not so bright, but are way smarter than they appear, yet at the same time are still dorks. and he is the embodiment of that. I love his goofiness. The fact that he annoys the hell out of Yusaku and tries to get reactions out of him is hilarious.

overall he doesn't feel, imo, like a character, his personality and their interactions feel very real, and this is actually something in general I like about vrains and the characters and their interactions

what really hit me hard though was him trying to play the part of a villain at the end and trying to hide his real reasons, even though you could see the fact that he really does care a lot for everyone. Man has the villain fashion down tho 👏

as for his human form, paired with his personality he had me like WOOF WOOF 🐕

it was on a more serious note so interesting to see how he pictures himself as a human, his body language, etc, and the fact that he's still just as much of a dork (excluding, y'know, the trauma of losing his family he's dealing with, poor guy :[ ) but just imagining being there as a human and seeing this ai have feelings and free will and depth and be so human would be crazy to witness much less befriend him and have a bond with him like Yusaku, it reminds me of DBH where Hank sees the development of Connor and they become so attached to each other

but then the final duel absolutely destroyed me, him getting nostalgic but still trying to be jokey about it and pretend he doesn't care, then finally giving up the act and telling Yusaku that in every simulation he sacrificed himself to keep Ai alive, and seeing how devastated Ai was, was devastating. him asking if he was a good partner had me CRYING

i'd love to see just everything turning out great, yusaku finding him, him getting a body back, just living domestically with yusaku and all his friends and seeing how he would navigate the world. I want to think the other ignis are somewhere out there as well and that somehow possibly they could be brought back and coexist :) yes I'm being hopeful but poor Ai being the last ignis, realizing that other AI programs just weren't able to be the same as the ignis are, the weight of being literally the last thing like yourself and knowing a good amount of humans are distrustful of you is a lot to shoulder

I could go on and on but in general he's just the most lil creacher ever and I wanna squeeze his cheeks. im so happy he survived but he rlly needs a hug

#the fact that in the beginning #he's the more humanlike character and Yusaku seems more reserved and cold #i love that dynamic #and how in the beginning it's easy to see him as a machine feigning emotions and reactions that he has #but we see that he really does feel and is genuine #im so sad about what happened to roboppi #but we see even in that arc he shed a tear over him. he's a good person deep down #just like yusaku said #his @ignister deck was cool to see too #the fact he made himself taller than yusaku was hilarious #like he just HAD to get that one over him lol #but like i said from the perspective of someone in the anime that knows him i think it would be really interesting to see this ai #with free will and a whole personality and mysterious origins #and befriend them and find out wow okay he really is very human #and to see that he really does care deeply #and see how he views himself as a human is the really interesting thing and his body language like i said #as someone who's a huge fan of detroit become human and loves analyzing stuff like that and the storylines around it #also his eyes i love his eyes #that is all i will conclude my rant #i love that handsome smart idiot glorified roomba <3 #okay im rlly done now im just repeating myself i just could go on abt vrains i was so surprised by how much i love it #ive spoiled half of it for myself i need to watch the chink in the middle i didnt spoil LMAO #this is very unorganized but yes many thoughts abt ai #not genshin #yugioh vrains #vrains spoilers

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whore-ibly-hot · 5 months

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"A Servant and His King."

Yandere!Fae-King x Fae!servant x. Fem! Reader

18+ Minors DNI

Warnings: Dub-con, perverted thoughts, obsession, coercion, fae related hijinks, basically monster fucking, oral (fem receiving), loss of virginity, clit play, p-in-v sex, power dynamics.

(A/N): Part two to a non-smutnfic about Puck, based off of puck from 'Midsummer Nights Dream'. Can be read with or standalone.

Part one (not required to understand)

A brief gust of wind and leaves rattles the shutters of your small cottages window, not sounding out of place when mixed with the usual sounds of the forest. However, the gust turns softer as it gently brushes against the shutters, causing them to open slowly with a creak.

A pair of feet land nimbly upon the wooden dresser across the room from your bed, a shadowy figure squatting down with a grin. The figure hops down, making its way to your bed, where you sleeping form lies blissfully unaware of the intruder.

Groaning, you are soon roused from your slumber by a light pressure on your wrist, and your eyes flutter open. You gasp, seeing the being before you and trying to pull away. "

"W-who are you! Stay awa-" a finger is pressed softly to your lips, the figures face coming into view as the lean forward. Forest green eyes and a set of familiar pearly whites greet you.

"Shh! No need to fear, only Puck is here." He coos, kissing your wrist once more, pressing the soft flesh to his lips. "Sorry to frighten you, little mortal. I would never mean to upset you, but I couldn't very waltz in through the entrance to your humble abode, especially given your mother's feelings about my kind." He lays his lithe body across yours, head on your chest as he looks at you with glee.

"Why are you here, Puck? It's late, I must rest." You say, though you don't resist the fae boys touching. "Sleep is important for humans."

He scoffs. "I know, but I have something more important than your human need for sleep. My king, Oberon, leader of the seelie court wishes to meet you." He pulls you up by your shoulders, a hand fixing your nightgown which begins to slip from your shoulder.

"T-the king?" You're just a human woman, a peasant. You've never even met a human noble, much less a faery king. "Why? Puck, I'm not, I can't! Now? I'm not dressed properly, I'm a human, I-"

Once again, a finger is placed against your lips. Invading your space as per usual, Pucks forehead is pressed against your forehead, nose to nose. "Shush, little mortal. Please, the king loves me. I am his jester-servant, his beloved Puck! We've shared many a-" he chuckles. "Amourous night together. He knows if your good enough for me, then your good enough to meet him. Don't discredit yourself, you are so much more than some mortal maid I take in the woods for a night of passion." He makes her sit up, and tries to slip her out of the bed. "He'll love you, my sweet. It's only proper I introduce my new beloved friend to my closest companion, ruler, and my king." You allow him to pull you out of your bed, and into his lanky form.

"Mmph, Puck. I can walk." You groan, trying to wriggle from his grasp. He tsks with his tongue, and shakes his head.

"No, no, no. Don't whine, don't go away. Be good. It's a long stroll all the way to the spring we're going to, just relax." He cackles. "You humans are so indecisive. Just a moment ago you were whining, 'Puck, no. It's too late, I'm a human, I need my sleep.', now you won't let me carry your frail, tired self to see the king. Make up your mind."

You roll your eyes, but suppose he has a point, and allow yourself to melt into his warm embrace, shoulders flush against his pecs.

As he slips back through the window and dances through the glen, weaving through trees and brush like a gust of cool night air, he soon arrives upon a clearing. Smooth rock reflect moonlight, as the water resting atop them comes from the babbling freshwater spring that rests at the edge of the rocks. A figure, imposing and much more muscular than Puck's is sat on one of the rocks, admiring the water.

Puck gently sets you down with nimble hands, kissing your ear lightly. This causes you to squeak and push him off.

"Stop it, Puck! I-im about to meet a king and your acting like we're lovers! Like your an enamored schoolboy!" You exclaim, and his hands only wrap around your waist from behind, playing with the cloth there.

"And here I thought we were lovers..." He feigns a sad face and a pout, before jolting forward and taking you with him by the waist. "My king!" He yells.

The imposing figure looks over, causing you to freeze, mind not really in synch with body as Puck drags you forward. The king is truly a thing of beauty, rugged and piercing as if he were carved, not from stone, but from the wood that made up the forest which he called his domain. He wears a fur pelt around his waist, covering his only upper thigh and not leaving much to the imagination. His is decidedly hairy, and though beautiful is as rugged as a human man of the woods is expected to be. He has dark curls of hair not unsimilar to Puck's, but not as long. His eyes are a deep brown.

"Ah, Puck, my fair servant friend. I was almost afraid you had planned to trick me, having not shown yet." The king muses, legs spread casually and a hand resting against his chin.

Puck gasps, hand to his chest as if hurt. "Never, my liege. Well, at least not to you." Puck coos, sitting on the rock and curling up to the man's calve. The king runs his hands through the curls of the fae man, and you are taken aback by the sensuality of their interaction.

The king looks up. "And you, little mortal, must be my Pucks new favorite thing, hmm?" He asks, head tilted. You nod nervously as the man waves you closer. You bow, and he grins. "Good, good. I assume she knows who I am then? I am King Oberon, of this enchanted woods and over all of the seelie court. Though, my servant here told me you knew little to nothing of our people when asked you about us, so I doubt you'd know what the seelie court is."

You shake your head. "No, sir. All I know-" you glance at Puck, who is practically purring at his kings touch. "All I know is what Puck has told me. That you are powerful, and to be respected."

Oberon grins at this. "That is all you need know. Come here, allow a king to gaze upon you." His hands begin to wander, cupping your face. His large fingers prod your plump lips, your cheeks, and tilts your chin downwards to look at him from where he is sat. Then, the hand is on your shoulder, playing with the straps of your upper garment, then at your chest. This sudden touch in such an intimate place causes you to jolt back. Oberon raises a brow.

"I'm sorry, sir. That is, that is just a very intimate place for humans. It's for sensual matters, when between two adults." You try to explain. Puck sighs, leaning his head on Oberons knee while the king chuckles.

"I am aware. It is intimate and sensual for fae too. That is why you were being touched there." He says, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. Now, you are only more confused.

"Well, intimacy of those matters between humans happens between a-a married couple, and even then, it should not be openly discussed. A woman like myself couldn't, shouldn't ever bee with a stranger like that, not even a suitor before marriage!"

"I have heard humans are... less indulgent in the passions of life than fae. All those awful, boring rules. And yet you kill your leaders and revolt because your miserable? Perhaps. Eing unable to express those urges is why." He laughs, and Puck joins in. He sense your confusion and continues. "Fae do not believing in brief enjoyment and indulgence. We live life to the fullest. Our liquor is stronger yet we drink more, our food is richer, yet we all eat like kings. And most of all, we indulge in the passions of the flesh with each other more than your little mind could take. I think if you had the opportunity, you'd see it was the best way to live." He muses.

To your suprise, he suddenly moves Puck up from his calve to his lap, holding the thin man by the waist as Puck grins wickedly. "You see, me and my servant here are close, emotionally and physically. We have enjoyed many a night of passion, without the watchful eye of my queen, of course." There is some bitterness in Oberon's tone at the mention of his queen.

"You... you indulge in passion with those, of the same gender as you, o-often?" You ask. It is not wrong, you are just so suprised and curious. You are not even supposed to think about a man pleasing a woman, let alone a man and another man. It is such a foreign idea.

"Mhmm. Being a king is hard for his majesty, and Puck... I, am happy to help him with his desires. My king cares for me, and I care for him." Puck says, before gasping and cutting off. You blush, seeing Oberons hand has slipped below Pucks leafy loincloth, hand stroking Puck manhood. He focuses only on the tip for now.

"I am suprised seeing as you are so shocked by how touchy and sensual fae are, seeing as you bedded my dear servant." Oberon says, and you immediately shake your head.

"No! I've never, me and Puck did nothing together. We drank a little, but he took me home." You exclaim, and look st Ouck for answers. He's too busy letting out soft whimpers and moans as Oberon moves his hand the full length of Pucks cock, paying attention to his bulbous tip.

"Is this true, Puck? I find it hard to believe, my servant can't keep his hands to himself. I suppose this makes you seem even more special to me, that my Puck would wish to see you again so desperately, and rave about you to me even if he had not bedded you yet. That begs the question though..." He leans in to Puck's ear. "Why did you lie to your king?"

Puck groans, brows furrowing. "M' sorry, your majesty! I knew you were so busy, and if I told you I had found a mortal capable of giving such incredible pleasure, you'd be more likely to come and see what a treasure I had found." He stammers. The king shakes his head, slowing his movements on Puck's cock.

"You know better than to lie to a king with a temper, Puck."

Puck cries out, bucking his hips and trying to chase that friction against his kings rough hands. "N-no sir! Trust me, I know if she'd just indulge, the mortal would be wonderful! She... she could be our mortal, not just mine! Please sir, I'll be good, she'll be good, don't stop." He begs.

Oberon sighs, still frowning in Pucks direction but intrigued nonetheless. "Alright, mortal girl. I yell you, if you would only let go, indulge just a bit in the pleasures of the fae, you would live a better life overall. And, should you please a king of the woods, perhaps your... what is it your mother does? Herbs? Perhaps they would see a better yield. An enchantment perhaps?" He offers.

You gulp, body hot with both arousal at the sight before you and anxiety. "I couldn't. What would the people in town think, I-I would be outcast!"

"Who would know? Even if someone were to find out, no one would believe a quiet gardeners daughter slept with a wicked spirit." The king teases, tongue poking out from between his lips slightly. He pulls you to him, and you offer no resistance. "For an untouched maiden, I assure you there is no one better to introduce you to a world of pleasure than the king, and his most loyal servant."

As he says this, the moaning Puck latches his lips onto your neck, continuing to moan as he sucks the soft flesh. You gasp.

"Oh, oh, gods." You squeak, the sensitive skin of your nape never having been touched, much less kissed in such a way.

"No gods, here, mortal. No angels or demons, only fae. Only the spirits of nature." He leans into your ear, kissing the shell. "Only your king."

Soon, a rough hand gets your skirt pooled around your knees, kneading the fat of your thigh and preparing to spread your legs and allow the fae king and his srmervant a view of the untouched treasure that lies there. You shiver as the cold air brushes across your stomach, you've never felt so exposed.

"See, highness? I told you, she's the perfect, pretty little mortal. Tease her, please? For me? I want to see her face as she experiences pleasure for the first time." Puck begs.

Oberon raises a brow and the request. "Such demands from a liar who has already been granted mercy, and is still being pleasure bu the hands of a king." He pulls his hand from Ouck's cock, causing tears to well in the edged faes eyes, having been denied his release.

"Majesty-"

"Enough. I will allow you to tease and prep the maiden, so she may except you king. Before you say anything, be grateful I don't only allow you to watch, or send you home." Puck whines, but grins a little inside. He knows the king enjoys his presence to much to remove him from this sensual scene.

Oberons large hands keep your shoulders flat against the warm stones of the spring, while Puck, still hard beneath his tented loincloth, crawls unceremoniously up between your thighs.

"What are you doing, Puck?" You whisper out softly, looking into his dazzling green eyes. He smiles warmly, pressing his cheek to one of your thighs.

"I assure you, maiden, my wicked tongue is not only good for japes and jabs." He coos. You are still confused at what he could mean, until the two thin fingers parting your folds are replaced with a hot, wet muscle. Puck licks a stripe teasingly up your center, savoring the flavour but eyes never leaving your face.

Oberon smiles down as he watches your face contort and wrinkle at the new sensation.

"Puck, y-your majesty, what is- oh, what is he doing?" You ask, trying to form a coherent sentence at the odd feeling of pressure and friction against both your clit and your entrance as Puck explores your folds.

"It's called cunnilingus, maiden. Fae have many ways to pleasure each other, but many enjoys the feel of one's mouth on their most intimate areas." He chuckles as he watches Puck tasting you curiously. "Sometimes, I find filling his mouth is the only way to quiet him." Puck giggles, and the vibrations make your legs quake.

Soon, the muscle invades your entrance, as Puck is now groaning almost as much as you. It's a gentle stretch, but both Ouck and Oberon know it will be necessary for what the king is to do later. Your aroused and needy clit is not forgotten by the fae pleasuring you, as a free hand comes to tweak it gently. The feeling is overwhelming, and soon, that knot inside you snaps, and you feel a high you've never known. It feels as though currents, waves run through your body as your maidenhood spasms around Pucks tongue.

He removes it, but continues to lap at your spent clit, tasting the juices of your climax. Oberon smiles.

"Was he good, maiden? Did you first touch by a man satisfy?" He asks. You can only weakly nod. "Ah, answer, maiden. Your being addressed by a royal."

"It was... it was very good, m-majesty." You gasp out. You look away at the sheer lewdness of the sight and Oberon crashes his lips to Pucks so that he may taste you on his servants lips.

"She was a divine nectar, my liege." Puck groans, pulling away from the kiss and now trading spots with his king. Now Puck lays by your shoulders, playing with your locks and kissing your neck and jawline while Oberon moves into place.

His chisled body places itself atop you, his sheer size dwarfing you and removing the moonlight from your body, casting a large shadow. You gulp.

"I... I've never done-" he chuckles, cutting you off.

"I'm aware, mortal. All that talk of purity led me to that conclusion. But, you won't be that innocent for long. I will be gentle, but it will hurt at first when you accept me into your sweet cunt. It's all part of the process."

You tense a little at the feeling of something hard, much more rigid than Pucks limp tongue, prodding at your entrance and folds.

"M' scared." You admit. This seems to soften the sensual yet cold king, and he sighs. Even Puck gives him a sad, wide eyes look. He leans down.

"Don't worry, mortal. I will be as gentle as any man has been with a woman. My Puck was never one to be nervous, but I have had lovers in the past who were. I will take care of you." He says.

Puck holds your hand and nuzzles his cheek to yours to provide a semblance of comfort. "It's true. The king is a fair and gentle lover when he wants to be. Don't worry, my friend." He assures.

Oberon strokes your thighs to relax soon, and soon the tip enters your weeping slit. You whine, the intrusion burns a little, especially as he adds a few inches every so often. But, he is slow, and talks you through it.

"Shh, it's alright. Your taking me so well, especially since I am endowed with more than some. Such a good mortal girl, it will feel good once you've stretched to accommodate a fae's cock." He coos.

As he begins to gently thrust, the slightly pain gives way to a burning pleasure. You whimper, his thrusts rocking your ads back against the stone of the spring. His large, curved tip is hitting the right spots, cervix getting pounded by the large man of the forest.

"O-oh, shit! Oberon, please- please, m-more! I need all, all of you in me!" You cry, and he chuckles.

"That's your womb speaking. This is your first time, you couldn't possibly accommodate all of me. But I will give you what I think, ugh, what I think you can take." He thursts become rhythmic, rolling in and out of your stretched tunnel, as Puck holds you steady and plays gently with your chest.

Oberon humps against you a few more times, moaning at Pucks encouragement. "She is so close, sire. I can tell, she's all tense and red, come on! Give it to her, let her take you. Please." It's clear Puck is still needy from not having gotten his release earlier. Still, he seems satisfied watching the king fuck his newest treasure.

"Mortal, mortal. You squeeze like a vice, such a warm, needy cunt. You needed this, to feel such pleasure, didn't you? Needed a cock to fill this cunt?" He moans. "It was fate, wasn't it, Puck? Finding this maiden, all alone. It was fate for you to be brought to us." Puck nods as his master continues.

"Your majesty, I'm gonna- its happening again." You cry, and his pace doesn't slow.

"I know, I know. I'm, fuck-" one last thrust sends the king over the edge. He groans, feeling your tunnel convulse around him as his thick white cum fills you. Puck plants quick, overwhelming kisses across your face as you climax, secretly wondering what you would look like if you bore the king's child.

Soon, Oberon pulls out, and you lay there, trembling and on the verge of sleep. Puck leans down and plants a final kiss upon your lips. He smiles.

"Sleep, little mortal. It's okay, you are safe with me and my king. I'll return you to your bed, pretty one." He strokes your hair softly, until your tired eyes close and stay closes. He sighs, and looks at the king. It's clear he could go for a fee more rounds.

"Majesty, our poor mortal needed this so badly, her body was on fire for it. We can't... we can't well let her go back to her little cottage, all alone in the dangerous wood with no one to please her. She's trusting, and she broke all the rules of interacting with fae so quickly, what if a worse one came along and-"

"Puck!" Oberon exclaims, making the imp jolt and go silent. Oberon sighs. "I am not a fool. I know how much this unique mortal has captivated the two of us. You need not convince me to take her back to my palace. As fair as Titania will be concerned, she is a plaything for you, correct? I will not have her cursing this treasure." Oberons muscular arms cradle your slumbering form.

"Majesty, I know of your endurance. Perhaps when we get back to the palace, while our maiden rests, I may please you." Puck asks, eyes wide and innocent.

Oberon scoffs. "All this acting because I didn't allow you to finish, Puck?" Oberon says, seeing through Pucks facade of goodwill and selflessness. Puck pouts.

"Isn't it tempting, though?"

"Perhaps."

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