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nsharks · 4 months

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bleeding blue | apocalypse au

part sixteen —other parts

pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader words: 3.2k tags: death. blood. cannibalism mention. zombies of course. AFAB reader. single dad ghost. there will be sex but it isn't here yet. slow burn!!! enemies to lovers. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival.

"I can't believe I woke up early for this."

You loosen your muscles, turning to dead weight in Ghost's arms, before using the awkward position to slip away.

"No one said you had to be here," Ghost throws over his shoulder before his gaze fleets back to yours. "Good. Again."

Blue groans as you reposition yourself for the basic defense maneuver. You can see why she'd find this boring— Ghost started you off with a move so basic it was almost insulting when he explained it. But you quickly realized his reasoning. Each time you do it, your pulse tampers down less and less while in his arms. He's had to remind you a few times to "Breathe, Twix"— the order so quietly uttered into the shell of your ear that Blue likely didn't even notice. Perhaps you have grown used to taking orders from him, or maybe having Blue close by is helping, because you've been able to ward off the threat of panic so far.

"Fine, I'm out of here," Blue rolls her eyes the second you've finished the move again. "Let me know when you—" she jabs a finger at Ghost, "—decide to make things more interesting." As she leaps off the log she'd been perched upon, she adds: "Oh, and don't get too close, Ghost. She might bite."

"So I've heard."

Heat rises to your cheeks. And then— you're alone with him. You take a swig of water from the canister Blue lent you to ignore the awkward feeling in your chest. "Again?" You wipe your mouth. "Or have I passed your test?"

"Test?" he repeats, the gravel in his voice rolling over the word as his brow lifts in question.

"Well, I haven't... had a repeat of last time, and it's been an hour. I think I've proved that I'm ready for something a little more..."

"More what?"

More interesting.

"Hand-to-hand, I guess. Something harder."

He rubs his jaw, as if to feign consideration. "Right, then. Let's try another one."

The next one he shows you is still simple, except you fail every other time. Basically, he gets behind you and you have to sidestep to avoid the trap of his arms. Somehow, Ghost's movements are light as a feather even though he's built like a rock.

But then you get better at it. The next two days pass in much the same manner until you start to react a bit faster. He teaches you a few more basic tactics. How to wriggle your wrist out of someone's hold. How to avoid being grabbed from the front by rolling to the ground. All defense. After hours spent with him, he doesn't even have to remind you to breathe anymore. Chopping wood in the evenings helps, too. You go to bed exhausted and wake up ready to practice before Ghost even touches your shoulder.

On the third day, he gets you up even earlier. You cram your wool-covered toes into boots, confine your hair in a hasty bun, and follow him to the clearing that has become your makeshift training ground. It takes you a moment to register that some things are different: his boots have been replaced by sneakers, and his jeans by loose, black gym shorts. The exposed skin is strange, making your eyes widen. If Blue were awake, she'd certainly comment.

His calves mirror the strength of the rest of him, and on the left leg, swirling ink catches your eye, reminiscent of the tattoos you discovered when tending to his wound. Skulls and a dagger; perhaps corny, but fitting for him.

"Have you tried it?" His voice cuts through your thoughts.

"Tried what?"

"The bow."

A white cloud forms around your mouth as you nod. "Needed some getting used to, like you said."

Yesterday you had a hard time shooting a chipmunk you wanted for lunch, so you spent the early afternoon firing arrows at oaks until the new bow started to feel like an extension of your limbs again.

"Let me know if I need to adjust the string."

"Will do," you say, almost mumbling.

When you reach the familiar circle of trees, you bounce once on your toes and crack your knuckles. Ghost retrieves something from his pocket. A roll of gauze. It is tossed at you without warning, and your hands fumble to grab it.

"Wrap up," he commands. "Your hands will thank you for it."

You look up at him, brows raised, but begin covering your palms and knuckles. When you're done, you throw the roll back to him. Ghost stretches his arms above his head and splays his feet into a firm stance, jerking his chin at you in a go-ahead motion. Your brows furrow as you try to understand what the fuck he's doing.

"Go on. Get ready."

"Um. Ready for what?"

"A little hand-to-hand."

Your mouth falls open. "What?"

He shrugs. "That's what you wanted, right? I think you're ready for it."

"That's not what I meant," you almost laugh, shaking your head. "I didn't mean I want to— to fight you. I just meant we don't have to stick to the basics."

"We won't." There is the slightest trace of amusement in his voice, so faint you wonder if it's even there. "You have ten seconds to get ready, Twix."

"I don't even—" you sputter, eyes flying open. If you weren't awake before, you are now. He seems completely serious, his hands in fists and his shoulders squared.

"Five."

"Oh, fuck me," you exhale, balling up your bandaged hands. Did he get you up at this hour so there was no chance of Blue joining? He didn't want her to watch him finally annihilate you? You don't think he would seriously hurt you, not after everything, but that doesn't mean your heart doesn't begin to thump wildly when the seconds are up. Neither of you makes the first move; you are focused on keeping yourself distant, and he is circling you like a predator, flicking his eyes along the length of you.

"What the fuck is that stance? I could just tap you and you'd fall over." His amusement has faded. "Is that how I showed you to stand when chopping wood?"

You shake your head, teeth gritted, and fix it, spreading your boots against the soil.

"Better."

Then, he's lunging. You forget everything about your stance and prance to the side like a skittish deer. There is a moment of relief when you successfully dodge him, only for it to abruptly end when he darts around your back and hooks an arm around your neck. Your heart skips over a beat. Holy shit is he fast.

"Be aware of your surroundings at all times," he chastises against the top of your hair. His hold is not aiming to fully restrain you, so when you claw your nails into his arm, it loosens and you slip away, staggering three strides before facing him with your fists up.

"What's the point of raising your fists if you're not going to hit me?" Ghost circles you again, and you have to shift your feet to keep up with him. "Come on, nurse. Where should you aim?"

"You're too tall." Your chest heaves. "I... I can't reach your face or neck without you blocking."

"Use the height difference to your advantage. Reach places that I can't."

You pause to think about it, studying him.

Ghost almost growls. "Stop hesitating. I could have killed you by now."

A mix of annoyance and determination makes you leap forward, jabbing your knuckles at the part of him where you know his liver would be. He captures you by the elbow before the blow can land, and sends you stumbling to the side, a few wisps of hair cascading over your face.

"Liver. Not bad. I might've let you have it if you moved quicker."

A hiss leaves your lips as you whirl around and punch directly into his core this time. He allows the hit, but your knuckles ram into solid muscle instead of the vulnerable stomach you hoped for, and you recoil with a wave of your hand, cussing under your breath.

"You hurt yourself more than you hurt me."

"Well, should I just kick you in the dick then?" you retort without thinking, flexing your fingers. Luckily, the gauze absorbed most of the damage.

"That's always an option."

His tone is serious, to the point that you almost give it a try, but then he's closing in on you again, sending you back to the defensive. He doesn't hold back. You run in circles and duck frantically, earning a few hits to your ribs. He doesn't use enough force to send you down to the ground, but enough to knock the wind out of you. Rapid breaths fire through your lungs and beads of sweat percolate your hairline. Ghost, on the other hand, appears unaffected.

"Fight back," he says in a mild voice; almost bored.

You nearly throw your arms up. "I would if you'd give me a fucking chance."

"You said not to coddle you."

"I'm aware. That doesn't mean you have to—"

Your spine suddenly meets something hard. A tree. He's backed you into it without you even realizing. When Ghost takes another swipe, you dip your head down and then use his recovery time to grab onto a branch and hoist yourself up.

You're barely perched upon it when a hand grips your ankle and drags you back down, an audible gasp reverberating in your chest as you land flat on your back with Ghost on top. His hand quickly cradles the back of your skull before it can crack on a hard tree root, while his other hand captures both of your wrists.

"You good?" Although he is the one who has you effectively pinned, his tone seems sincere. He scans your face from your forehead to your parted lips.

"Just... peachy."

His brows furrow. "What was your plan once you got up there?"

Labored breathing splinters your voice. "I didn't have much of a plan, really."

He speaks flatly. "I can tell."

"You had me cornered," you point out.

"You should have been—"

"Aware of my surroundings," you finish for him, exhaling deep through your nose. "I know."

Your eyes shift around, from his covered face to where his chest just barely presses into yours. It's all so close. Uncomfortably close. You can feel the steady pace of his heart against your sternum, and make out the faintest flecks of green in his eyes.

An ounce of fear and something else you can't quite discern balls up in your stomach, making you swallow. You've been pinned like this before and nearly had your face eaten. Ghost simply stares at you, as if waiting for you to make a move, but when you tug on your wrists, his grip doesn't relent.

"Could you... could you maybe get off of me?"

He shifts some weight off you, if only by a little. "Relax and think," he murmurs. "What are your options here?" The curve of his lips tightens before he adds, "Besides biting my nose off. I'd like to keep that for now."

With a sigh, your eyes slide up to the awakening sky. Hues of violet and orange stare down at you. "Do I... do I even have any options? You must weigh like a ton." The words are past your lips before you can shut your mouth.

"You always have options."

"Doesn't mean any of them will be effective," you say.

His eyes darken, and the green disappears. "Why do you do that?"

"Um... do what?"

"Doubt yourself. After all that you have survived." He sounds irritated.

"As if you haven't doubted me?" You can't help it; you scoff. "You told her I wouldn't come back that time I went on my own. I mean, I'm still weak, remember? No amount of chopping wood will make me as strong as you or those men who almost killed us."

"It's not about strength," he replies.

"That's easy for you to say," you wiggle your wrists for emphasis. "You have nothing to be afraid of. You were cut out for this shit from the start."

"I have everything to be afraid of." His eyes narrow, but his voice softens. "And so were you."

"Me?" Your voice slightly elevates, and a lick of anger curls within you. "I should be in grad school right now, or maybe I would've quit nursing and gone into something useless and hate my life, but I was never meant to kill anyone, let alone fight them. I was meant to be young and stupid and make mistakes. Now, if I make a fucking mistake, it will cost me my life." Your nostrils flare as you huff, sending a piece of hair flying up into his face, and you writhe beneath him. "Get off of me, Ghost."

But he doesn't.

Beats of silence linger in the small gap between your bodies.

You should feel embarrassed for saying all those things, but instead, you think about what he said:

Don't hesitate.

The ball inside you is a fiery mix of emotions that you usually try your damn hardest to ignore and break and shove away.

But now you let it spread through your body like a sizzling tide, from the tips of your fingers down to your toes and... to your knee. Before you can change your mind, you slam it upward as hard as you can into the apex of his groin.

"Fuck," Ghost mutters, the only sign of any pain aside from the brief moment that he closes his eyes.

His hold loosens only by a little, but it's enough for you to slip out from under him and find your way back to your feet, your chest rising and falling.

He clears his throat after a moment and rises.

"Good." The two of you share a stare-off for a few seconds before he shakes his head, saying again: "Good, Twix. More of that."

You rip your gaze away from him, cheeks hot, and say nothing as you snatch the canister and bring it to your lips, but the water does little to cool you down.

You shiver in the bitterness of twilight, your fingers red and numb, wishing for a pair of gloves. The fireflies are coming out, dots of luminescence darting around you. You swing the axe down again, throat raw as you grunt, and then you add the broken logs to the growing stack. Sudden light footsteps announce the end of your alone time.

"It's me," Blue greets kindly.

You drop the axe, hands feeling stiff, and turn to face her with a breathless smile. "Hey. What are you doing out here?"

"Checking on you. Ghost went hard on you this morning, huh?" she says with a sigh. "I could hear you guys. You were a bit... loud. Made it hard to sleep."

"Not too hard. I'm… I'm good."

If she is unconvinced, she doesn't comment on it. Rather, she hugs you. A warm one. You return the embrace before she pulls away.

"I also came because I wanted to invite you to a bonfire."

"Bonfire?"

"Well, with all your..." her eyes flicker to the pile of logs you've conjured over the past hour. "...special workouts, we have a lot of wood now. I told Ghost to make a big fire outside and we can cook dinner over it. It'll be fun, come on. Ghost is making tea, too."

Soon enough, your sore fingers are tingling, holding a warm, ceramic mug of tea. Ghost chucks another bundle of wood into the fire, spitting out smoke and embers, and sits on a tree stump while Blue takes the folding chair. Your hair is down, tucked behind your ears, and a patchwork quilt Blue grabbed from her room lays across your lap. The mug burns pleasantly against your lips when you take a sip, the herbal taste sliding down your throat. Whatever plants he used to make it work together perfectly. It reminds you of the tea your mom used to make when you were sick.

"Do you like it more well-done or is this okay?" Blue asks, meticulously spinning the skewered squirrel meat over the fire.

"That's good, thank you."

Ghost cooks their dinner, and the three of you eat and sip in a comforting silence. You avoid looking at him, opting for the starry sky above your head, where bold stars beam even brighter than the fireflies. It's quite nice. When you're done, you toss the bones into the fire and listen to them splinter.

Blue breaks the silence. "Would you rather be burned alive or be attacked by a bunch of squirrels with rabies?"

You take another sip of tea. "How many squirrels, exactly?"

She taps her chin. "One hundred."

"I think if it were fifty, I could handle them. One hundred, probably not. I'll choose being burned."

She makes a face. "That is a terrible death."

"Most deaths are terrible."

"Fair enough. Ghost?"

For the first time since this morning, you steal a glance. His elbows rest upon his splayed knees, and the orange flames reflect in his eyes as if they were twin black, mirrors. "I could handle the squirrels."

She snorts a laugh. "Even you can't survive rabies, though."

He shrugs. "Takes some time to kill you."

"Let's play a different game," you interject. "Maybe something a little less... morbid tonight."

"Like what?" Blue chimes.

You shrug indifferently. "What other ones do you know?"

"Not that many. You tell us one, Twix."

"Well, I know one good one. You have to act something out and then we'll guess what it is. But you can't talk."

"Oh, that's easy."

"Try it, then," you nod at her.

She leaps up from the chair, nearly spilling her tea in the process. Without hesitation, she puts on a stoic expression and begins shooting finger guns. Quiet laughter shakes your shoulders.

"Are you, um... Ghost?" you guess, making her throw her arms up.

"How did you guess so quickly?"

"It was a bit obvious."

"Not to me," Ghost murmurs. "Terrible impression, kid."

Across the fire, you glance at him again, and his eyes meet yours, reminding you of the events that took place and the words that you spat. Emotions pulse against your ribs, like a swarm of flickering fireflies, but you fail to catch and examine any of them.

A tug on your arm ends the shared look. Tea splatters around the rim of your mug as Blue ushers you up. "Your turn now."

"Alright, alright."

You decide not to feel humiliated with both pairs of eyes on you. They've both seen much stranger things than you act out a squirrel, which must be a good impression because Ghost guesses it right away.

A sudden crack of lightning in the distance puts an end to the game before Ghost can have a turn, which you suspect he is pleased about. He puts out the fire just before clouds roll in, blocking out the stars, and a drizzle of rain begins. Back inside, you kick off your boots and sink to the sofa as Blue says goodnight. Once she’s in her room, Ghost pauses in the threshold of the hall and speaks over his shoulder.

"Get some sleep. You'll need it for tomorrow, even if it's raining.”

#simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x reader #ghost #simon ghost riley x reader #fanfiction #cod #zombie apocolypse au

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ghosts-bandwagon · 1 year

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Hi, could you write headcanons about 141 + könig with a femreader who has a lichtenberg scar? 🫶🏻

That’s metal af I love it! For those who are unfamiliar this is what they look like (from what I could read online, they go away after 24-48 hours but tend to leave some tenderness behind so for the sake of the prompt, we’ll ignore that!❤️)

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley:

Goddess? Goddess. He’s got some crazy scars but they pale in comparison to the pattern on your back

Sweet lord the first time he saw it, he was in shock, mind racing a million miles a minute, his first thought being that someone did this to you and he was ready to turn the world into ashes just to find them

As soon as you explain to him that it was in fact lightning that created the scars, for the first time in his life his jaw goes slack and he is at a loss for words

His fingers run over the patterns with a feather light gentleness that no one (but you) could ever attribute to him, his cold fingers soothe the warm skin and you can’t help but close your eyes and enjoy the sensation

John ‘Soap’ MacTavish:

He already thinks you’re otherworldly, but after seeing your scars, you’re downright ethereal

At first he thought the fern-like patterns on your arm were a tattoo, it wasn’t until he ran his fingers over it that he realized it was a scar

Like Ghost, his knee jerk reaction is to jump to the conclusion that someone hurt you and he feels awful for thinking it was a tattoo, but when you explain that it was from a lightning strike, he doesn’t believe you

“Bonnie, do you know how astronomically unlucky you have to be to get struck by lightning?” (Just show him the pictures you first took after it happened and the discharges from the ER and he’ll shut up)

His favorite thing to do is run his fingers over the patterns, especially when you’re lounging together, whether it’s on the couch or in bed, he is mesmerized

John Price:

He’s heard of them but he’s never seen them in person, at least until he met you and he saw the pattern peeking out from under your shirt

Since he’s heard of them, he’s not as surprised that it’s from lightning, he’s more shocked that it happened to you of all people

He understands that it can get sore so he’ll offer to help rub a soothing cream into the raised skin on your chest

He warms his hands before applying the lotion and he gently glides his fingers up and down the weaving patterns, his palm soothing the aching skin, his eyes unable to leave the intricate patterns on your chest, he’s in awe of you

Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick:

Holy shit, love, he thinks you’re positively glowing, a literal goddess among men, you are an anomaly, a one in a million chance personified

Body worship? Body worship.

He is watching you as you explain it with stars in his eyes, his fingers are tracing the patterns on your leg, he is hypnotized

He’s kissing every inch, and massaging the areas his lips can’t reach, and when your scars to ache he’s right there, ready to soothe the skin with some lotion and light touches

König:

He’s heard of them but he’s never seen them in person, honestly he wrote them off as being something that happens in movies, if that

Even when he sees the pattern on your arm, he thinks it’s a tattoo and very confidently compliments it

However, when you gently tell him it’s actually a scar you got from a lightning strike, he’s back peddling like his life depends on it

Please stop him before he talks himself to death, he will not take a single breath in between his apologies what was supposed to be an innocent compliment has definitely become a core memory poor guy

His heart is pounding when you take his massive hand in your smaller one and have him run his finger over the raised skin, he’s holding his breath, he’s in complete awe of you, liebling

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shadowdaddies · 6 months

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Yes yes it’s me again 🤭 this one is much more simple than my other ones lol. I am really in the mood for just some sweet smut with Azriel. Maybe the reader is super sweet and quiet. And when they do it her touches are so gentle and soft and it drives azriel crazy because he’s so used to the torture and violence. Just some sweet fluffy smut of reader being super gentle with him.

hey bestie, I'm always down to write some love for Az. He deserves all the love imo💜

A Gentle Touch

Azriel x Reader

Warnings: super fluffy smut below the cut, oral m!receiving, p in sex, minors dni, not proofread

Padding out of your closet where you had changed into your nightgown, you walked over to where Azriel stood in front of the fireplace. He stared at his hands with disdain as he roughly massaged them - a telltale sign of a difficult day of work. Azriel was the kindest mate, one of the things you loved most about him was his grace and understanding that he showed towards others. He just never seemed to extend that grace to himself.

Wrapping your arms around Azriel, you took his hands in your own, the soft graze of your thumbs against his scarred hands giving him instant relief as he sighed, relaxing in your hold. You gently guided him to sit in one of the comfortable lounge chairs, wordlessly helping him remove his leathers. You untied his top, setting the buckles and weapons to the side, and held his face in your hands. You looked at him with nothing but soft adoration as you rubbed gentle circles on his cheeks before pressing a feather-light kiss to each one.

Azriel brought his hands to your bare thighs - callouses providing pleasant friction against your soft skin - as you brought your hands up to his hair, running your fingers through his soft, onyx locks, gently massaging as his head fell back against the seat of the chair, eyes drifting closed. He looked so beautiful and peaceful like this, you wished that you could stay in this moment with him forever.

You trailed the pads of your fingertips down his neck, tracing the swirls of the tattoos across his chest as you marveled at the male before you. You leaned in to press a gentle kiss over his heart, Azriel shuddering under your touch as he brought his hands up to wrap around you. He pulled your body flush against his, resting his head in the crook of your neck as he took a deep, shaky breath. “Thank you,” he breathed, barely above a whisper.

You pulled back to look at him once more, silver lining his beautiful hazel eyes. “Thank you for what, my love?” you questioned as you again brought a hand up to tuck loose hair behind his ear. He leaned into your touch, sighing again as he smiled softly. “The world is such a harsh place,” Azriel whispered, swallowing before he continued. “I am so thankful to be blessed by a mate who reminds me how soft it can be as well.”

Your heart softened at Azriel’s words, pulling him in for another hug as you kissed below his ear, holding him close to your warmth as you continued a path downward - kissing down his neck, licking along his collarbone to his chest, where you kissed him again. Looking up to see Azriel’s flushed state as he began breathing heavily, you kept eye contact, kissing your way all the way down to the ties of his leathers.

Your nimble fingers untied his pants, soft hands running along the band as Azriel shifted his hips to help you pull them down. He was now bare before you, gloriously shining in the balance of the cool moonlight and warm fire, and you stopped for a moment to admire him, sending love down the bond as you ran your hands up his thighs, a faint smile playing at your lips as he sucked in a breath when you came close to his evident arousal.

Placing soft kisses on the insides of his thighs, you worked your way up towards Azriel’s cock, lolling your tongue out as you looked up at him with innocent doe eyes and flicked your tongue over the tip. He hissed, knuckles turning white as he gripped the armrests in an effort of restraint. Using one hand to guide him in your mouth, you swirled your tongue around the tip before sinking down, taking as much of Azriel as you could.

He groaned leaning his head back as one hand threaded in your hair. Flattening your tongue against his shaft, you slowly drew back up, only to begin bobbing your head quickly as you brought your free hand to gently graze a prominent vein in his wing. Azriel groaned out your name, involuntarily thrusting up into you as you gagged on his length. He looked at you with concern, but you nodded in signal that you were okay, mumbling around his dick that you could take it.

The vibrations set him off, Azriel pulling your mouth off of him, panting, “I need you, angel,” as he pulled you into his lap. You kissed him, letting Azriel taste himself on your tongue as you guided his cock to your entrance. You sank down on him, both of you releasing lewd moans at the feeling before Azriel held your hips, helping you bounce up and down on him.

As both of you drew closer to your highs, Azriel’s thrusts became more frantic, you slumping against him for support as he hit so deep inside of you that you struggled to think. When Azriel licked his thumb, bringing it down to rub circles against your clit, you came undone around him, crying out his name as you buried your face in his neck. You left gentle kisses, rolling your hips as you knew Azriel liked, sending him over the edge shortly after you.

Pulling back, you looked into Azriel’s eyes again and smiled brightly. “I love you,” you said, overwhelmed by the emotions you felt for Azriel as you kissed him again before climbing off his lap. “Follow me,” you whispered, leading him to the bathroom where you removed your nightgown and guided him to the bathtub, where you washed Azriel - your mate finding peace in your gentle touch, as you did in his.

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bonny-kookoo · 7 months

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Jungkook

TERRITORIAL. | Softcore

"Don't worry- I'll take it real slow with you so you know I mean it."

Tags/Warnings: Punk!Jungkook, Wolf!Jungkook, Good girl!Reader, Dom!Jungkook, Sub!Reader, Corruption kink, strangers to crushes to lovers, Fluff, Adult themes

+ Additional Tags/Warnings: none, some flirting?

Length: who's counting anyways

There is no taglist for this fic.

-> Masterlist

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"Damn, who's pissed in your breakfast this morning?" Jimin laughs, trying to joke- but it's clear that Jungkook is genuinely angry with his packmate, heated glare sent his way.

"I told you, you were being too mean yesterday!" Hoseok scolds, smacking the younger wolf on the back of his head. "Now you ruined jungkookie's fun last night." He mumbles, looking at the youngest apologetically-

Though the wolf sits up almost proudly, a sly smile growing on his lips as he chews his food.

"Looks like he still got his dick wet." Jimin laughs, making Jungkook growl.

"I wasn't out to get my dick wet you dog!" He argues, before crossing his arms. "Was just.. driving around." He shrugs.

"You." Taehyung raises a brown before he sits down at the table as well. "Just driving around." He continues, making the youngest roll his eyes.

"You act like I'm always up to something." He accuses, before his phone buzzes on the table, quickly snatched away by Jimin who grins brightly while fighting against Jungkook's reaching hands.

"Movie sounds great, do you have one in mind?" He reads the message out loud. "Oooh, Jungkookie has an actual date?!" He exclaims, before the youngest wolf can snatch his phone back.

"Shut up." He growls, before he gets up to put on his jacket and boots, turning around once more. "Don't fuck this up for me. Next time you see us, just shut your mouth." He requests awfully.. nervously almost, before he leaves, door closing behind him.

"You think he's found someone he likes?" Taehyung wonders, pulling Jungkook's leftovers toward him.

"Looks like it." Hoseok shrugs.

"Huh." Jimin huffs, leaning bag with an almost proud smile. "Would you look at that."

⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──💗── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅

Your apartment is cozy, small but very inviting, and most of all- it smells like you and you only, something that Jungkook enjoys a lot.

"Do you want me to dry your jacket?" You wonder, looking at him carefully taking off his wet jacket, since it's been pouring outside. Only now do you notice that, once he pulls off his beanie, it's the first time you see him like that.

Damn. Those tattoos really paint a full sleeve and some.

Not to mention the fact that his black sleeveless top hugs his body so tightly that it leaves almost nothing to the imagination- and in a way, that makes you a bit self-conscious. He seems like someone who works out a lot and often- would he think of you as less attractive once he notices you hide no defined physique underneath your clothes, but small rolls and chubby thighs?

Maybe. Maybe this is a bad idea.

Interestingly enough, it seems like Jungkook notices your change in mood- posture changing to appear less threatening to you, tail waving a little behind him to add to the appearance. It helps- if just a little.

"I mean- sure? If it's not a bother.." He answers your question, making you nod before you take the heavy jacket from him, glad to have something to distract yourself with.

"You can.. sit down? Or, I don't know- raid my fridge." You joke a bit stiff, before you flee the scene, hanging his jacket up in your little laundry room where your dryer has already warmed up the air, everything smelling of your favorite fabric softener. You actually sometimes take a nap in here, especially during winter- you're not sure why, but the smells and warmth offers you the bestest naps, especially when you sleep on your thick feather filled quilt.

It's an odd habit. Will he think you're weird if he finds out about that?

Once you return to your living room and kitchen space, you find Jungkook already looking inside the fridge, scanning the different snacks and drinks in there, visibly curious as his tail stands high. You can't help it, in that moment-

sneakily tugging just a little on the very tip, causing him to snap around, startled.

"Sorry!" You apologize immediately, shrinking back a little. "I- that was rude-" You start, when he wags his tail so much it smacks against the open fridge door, his laughter ringing through the small space of the apartment.

"No worries, was just caught off guard-" He reassures with a grin. "-you're really quiet. And those ears work really well!" He jokes, pointing to his pierced ear.

"Should I be louder then?" You wonder, reaching past him for a bottle of water. "So you can hear me?" You ask, and he looks at you for a second, before he chuckles, throwing his head back.

"You're so cute!" He barks out, before he closes your fridge, following you back towards your couch. And there, you sit as if you're being scolded almost- hugging your legs in the very corner, too shy to really be comfortable around him, and of course- he notices.

"What's making you uncomfortable right now?" He wonders, zapping through the recommended shows on your TV.

"Huh?" You ask, looking at him. "Nothing. I'm fine!" You laugh, though even that sounds more like you're just trying to pacify him, and it reminds him of one of his packmates' mates, back when she first met the whole group.

You're acting very similar. Intimidated, unsure where your place is. Trying not to step out of line.

"Hm, you're not." He chuckles, sitting back a little more relaxed. "Is it the tattoos? They're off-putting to some, my mom doesn't like them either." He chuckles, trying to ease the tension- something he craves out of pure instinct, because, considering his interest in you, he can't have his possible future mate be this uneasy around him.

He's supposed to be your person of safety and protection, someone you can and want to rely on- not someone you're scared of, in any way.

"No- not really." You shake your head, looking at them from the distance, noticing the colors and intricate details in some parts. "Just.. I don't know." You mumble.

"Is it the muscle?" He wonders, head tilting to the side a bit, and when you look away and adjust your position a little, he clicks his tongue. "Ah, please don't worry. I know how to control my strength!" He jokes playfully, but you shake your head. "No?"

"It's not.. that, at least not really?" You wonder, deciding that you better rip off the bandaid right now so it'll hurt less later. "You're just.. you look really fit, and I'm not. I'm lazy." You explain, without any demeaning tone thrown at yourself. "I don't really do any.. working out." You say, and he shrugs.

"Fine by me. It's your body, not mine." He offers, and you're unsure what to think about that statement.

Growing up, you learned from both your family and past friendships and relationships even, that every sentence uttered by mankind has some sort of second meaning. It created some sort of imposter syndrome for you in a way, as if every praise and compliment had some sort of background to it. Like you didn't deserve it- and people were simply too nice to tell you that blunt and openly.

So maybe it's not him saying that it's your choice and he doesn't mind it- but him saying that he's simply aware of the fact that he can't force you to do anything, but that he's glad he's not in your place. It's a far reach, and you know this- but the petty demon inside your head just won't shut up, ever.

Luckily however, the wolf next to you on the couch seems to have telepathic powers or something- or maybe he can smell your feelings? Because he immediately adds something to his words to soften up his statement. "The most important thing for me is that you're healthy and happy. I don't need anything else, really." He smiles encouragingly, and you shrug, before nodding.

"I guess." You just mumble, letting the awkward silence wash over you both while Jungkook chooses a movie, logging into his own account on your streaming service- something you notice. "You can just buy it-" You say, but he chuckles.

"Nop. Let me do that- I'd feel bad otherwise." He explains, buying the movie with his own money. So his last name is Jeon? You really didn't mean to look at it, but it's hard not to. It's when the movie starts that he leans a bit more onto your little sofa, opening his arms. "Can we cuddle?" He wonders, and you look at him a bit like a deer in the headlights. "I promise my friend down there will behave. I just wanna have you close- is that okay?" He wonders, and you shrug, unsure how to approach it.

Considering how long you've been living by yourself, you feel like you forgot how to properly.. cuddle at all. And it's like you just realize that right now- when was the last time you hugged someone? Held someone's hand? Or just sat close to someone else?

"You don't have to. I just.. wanna make you feel more at ease." He softly says, pausing the movie on the TV. "If you're not ready to be this close to me yet that's fine, and understandable. We can try another time-" He starts, but you shake your head.

"I just.. I've been living alone for a while now." You say, opening up at least a little bit. "I'm.. I don't know, it feels awkward now." You admit, and he nods, soaking up the info you give him.

"Alright, I can work with that." He smiles. "We can take it slow and easy, no issues." He shrugs, setting down his hands again.

And that's where they stay, as you both simply watch the movie-

Jungkook quietly leaving after you fall asleep, but not before putting a blanket from the couch over your body.

⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──💗── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅

"I can't promise you they won't be weird-" Jungkook chuckles through the speaker in your helmet- a new one now, that you suspect he might've bought just for you, because it's a lot smaller and fits way better than the other one you've been given before. "-but I'll keep them in check." he reassures you.

"Are you like, the leader?" You wonder, unsure, and he chuckles again, stopping at a red light.

"No, I'll tell you who's who when we're there- I'm just a regular member, nothing more nothing less." He shrugs, one of his hands leaving the handle of his bike to rest on your thigh next to his leg, running up and down absentmindedly. "Is that okay? Or too much?" He asks, looking back for a second, though you can't see his face with the helmet covering his head entirely.

"That's fine." You say, genuinely meaning it- and you can't see it, but he's grinning brightly at this small step forwards, tail wagging. He's noticed you leaning against his back a lot more this time, slowly seeming to grow more comfortable on his bike, even so much so that you've begun to instinctively sit in the proper way to make driving easy for him.

And he also really enjoys you clinging onto him not in fear but comfort- but that's besides the main point.

The moment you arrive, everyone already standing around with their own bikes or by themselves, it's very clear that Jungkook's whole.. adventures with you has made the round. People are whistling and laughing, but it's also clear that it's just to tease him, and not in bad nature. You can even hear someone cooing when Jungkook reaches out to help you take your helmet off, bike standing secure on the kickstand, his own helmet already having been taken off. "Don't mind them. I'm the youngest of the pack." He admits, and you nod, smiling.

"You'll handle it, I'm sure." You agree, and he grins proudly, before he helps you get off the bike.

"Oh look at them, this is so cute!" Someone laughs, commenting probably on the fact that Jungkook had taken your hand in his to maybe offer you some extra security- something you appreciate.

"Please stop, you're scaring her off." He whines, as someone walks up beside you.

"Jungkook's right. Leave him be." A tall guy says, before he looks at you kindly. "I'm namjoon- not sure if he's told you already, but I'm the pack leader here " he offers, and you nod in greeting, smiling back. "I hope he treats you well- if not I'm gonna have to have a word with him." He jokingly threatens, making Jungkook roll his eyes.

"I'm treating her very well, thanks for asking." He snaps back, and you can't help but giggle a little at the banter they're both participating in.

Up close and personal like this, the whole pack of wolves doesn't actually feel all that threatening.

They're clearly playing around with him, teasing whenever he does anything considered affectionate towards you, and it's almost cute to see him glare at his friends for it. What makes you even happier is the fact that he doesn't mind being seen- he still makes sure you're always comfortable, checks in if you want to leave or if you're cold or if you're tired.

Right now, he's got you sat on his thigh, as he's sitting on the sidewalk- when there seems to be some tension rising, multiple wolves now moving to stand almost protectively in front of the rest. "Hey- stay here for a second yeah? I'll just check what's up." He says, helping you stand near his bike, before he leaves to do just what he said.

The way his tail suddenly rises, standing straight back, shows you that he's in an aggressive-defensive stance.

Somethings going on.

But it's resolved with simple glares from the pack, as Jungkook returns later to offer you your helmet. "Let's get you home, okay?" He says, and you nod, letting him help you with the helmet itself. "Don't worry, by the way. There's just some tension- and I'd like to.. not have you in the crossfire." He chuckles.

That's a nice thing to do, actually. He seems very much interested in your well-being, and that's new to you. But it's nice. Feeling like you're special.

Back at your home, he's helping you off his bike, taking the helmet from you- and you can't help yourself, as you unhook his own helmet with a click, before you slip it off his head, and lean in to kiss him.

It's a quick one, his helmet pushed into his hands as you run off into your home-

One look back making you laugh, as you see him frozen it appears like, tail wildly wagging behind him.

⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──💗── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅

He's awfully cocky next time he visits you, instantly leaning down as you open the door to let him in. "What? Do I only get goodbye-kisses?" He complains, and you giggle, leaning in to kiss his cheek.

And he growls at that, though his wagging tail reassures you there's no anger behind it.

"You have to earn it." You say, and he glares at you.

"Isn't my giant crush on you enough?" He wonders, and you laugh.

"Maybe?" You shrug, putting on your jacket. "Well.. I'll think about it after the date." You tease and he grins.

"Well in that case, I'll be getting a ton of kisses after tonight." He beams at you, proudly so.

And you're sure of it.

He already earned himself quite a few.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #hybrid imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #bts jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader #bts jungkook fanfic #bts jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook imagines

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heartsforvin · 8 months

Text

TATTOOS

pairing; vinnie hacker x fem!gf!reader

warnings; mention of anxiety, a bunch of fluff <3

summary; it’s a lazy day for you & vin, laying in bed watching movies together, you get lost in a daze as you trace his tattoos

lazy days for you and vinnie were rare. either he had an event to go to, or you had a modeling gig lined up. so when you both had a free day, you took that to your advantage.

you excitedly ran down the stairs of vinnie’s shared home with his roommates, meeting one of the guys once you reached the kitchen.

“hey, y/n!” jack exclaimed with a smile, happy to see you around the house again.

you reciprocated the gesture, the corner of your lips tugging up into a smile. “hi, jack.”

you quickly pass the blonde, grabbing some sodas and a bag of popcorn, putting the bag into the microwave.

sitting up on the counter as you waited for the popcorn to finish, you swung your legs back and forth.

“what are your plans for the day?” you heard jack speak up, turning your attention to him.

you smile at the thought. “vin and i are just gonna stay in today and watch some movies!” you exclaim.

jack smiled, picking up his things, signaling he was going to leave the room. “awe that’s fun! i gotta go, but i’ll see ya later?” he questioned, making you nod.

“see you later!” you told, hopping off the counter and walking to the microwave.

as you opened it up, you felt a strong pair of arms wrap around your waist, hugging you from behind. you looked down and saw the tattooed hands that rested on your stomach.

vinnie’s face was in your neck, planting small kisses against it, making you giggle. “you couldn’t wait five minutes?” you questioned.

vinnie mumbled into your skin. “couldn’t wait another five seconds” he replied, unwrapping himself from you.

you smiled, finishing up making the popcorn, pouring it into a bowl and soaking it with butter.

“here, grab this for me, will you?” you asked your boyfriend, he happily grabbed the bowl of popcorn.

you grabbed two sodas and the two of you made it back upstairs into vinnie’s room. once the door was shut the two of you got situated on his bed.

the popcorn bowl sat in between the two of you, while you snuggled into your boyfriend.

your head was laid on vinnie’s chest, his arms wrapped around you and resting on your waist, gripping slightly.

“what movie did you pick?” you looked up to see the blonde above you smiling.

“vin, no!” you exclaimed, sitting up to swat at his chest. “you promised me you wouldn’t pick a scary one.”

he smirked, he didn’t actually pick a horror film, he just loved to tease you and see what you’d do.

vinnie rubbed your shoulder. “i didn’t pick a scary one, baby.” he replied, smiling.

you smiled, switching the way you laid on your boyfriend. you decided to lay against him with your back on his chest, his arms resting on your thighs.

✧∘* ೃ ⋆｡˚.

about thirty minutes into the movie (which was an action film), you got distracted. vinnie was very intently focused on the movie, but you were focused on something else.

you held one of vinnie’s hands in yours, the back of his hand facing you as you traced the bird feathers all the way to the snake on his index finger.

his tattoos were one of your favorite features of him, it was the first thing you noticed when you first met him.

you loved all his tattoos so much.

your favorite however, was a tie between the spider tattoo on his sternum, or snake tattoo that wrapped around his neck.

too caught up in the movie, the boy above you still didn’t notice what you were doing. that was until you started tracing a little higher up on his left arm.

“what’re you doin’, baby?” the softness of his voice almost unclear.

your cheeks heated at the realization that he caught you, it wasn’t something embarrassing, you often traced the inked skin to relive your anxiety at times.

“got distracted.” is all you said. vinnie smiled down at you.

he watched as you continued to trace his inked skin in deep thought, smiling as you did so.

“have you watched any of the movie?” he asked you, a blush creeping up on your cheeks.

he got his answer just by that, smirking and kissing your head.

after a moment of silence you felt movement on the bed, looking over to the side, you saw hera making her way towards you two.

“hera, my baby!” you exclaimed, earning a pout from the blonde haired boy beside you.

you smiled at him before kissing his cheek. "you're my baby too." you told him, earning a smile.

the three of you laid back down, you cuddled back into vinnie while hera laid in between you both. continuing to trace the boy's tattoos, you sighed contentedly, looking up at vinnie.

"which is your favorite?" he asked, already knowing your answer, he just loved hearing your voice.

you sat up a bit to reach the tattoo around his neck, gliding your fingers around it.

"this for sure," you said, almost in a whisper. "although, your spider one is up there too."

vinnie smiled, lifting up your chin to meet his gaze. he smiled at you before letting the distance between you close in a kiss.

you both smiled once you pulled apart, vinnie stroked your cheek with his thumb which made you blush.

"wanna get matching tattoos one day?" the boy asked, making you look at him with pure shock.

"are you sure?" you asked, making sure he was one hundred percent certain.

you had in fact thought about the idea, but wasn't sure you should do it just in case you guys didn't last.

there was always that possibility to look out for.

vinnie smiled widely and nodded his head. "i have never been so sure about something in my life," he told. "besides me wanting you to be my future wife."

that sentence mad your stomach fill with butterflies, you smiled up at him, making him smile back.

you nodded your head, letting him know that you in fact would like to get a matching tattoo with him one day.

falling back onto his chest, you wrapped your arms around his waist, while his rested along your back.

hera found a more comfortable spot in between you two as well. you ran your fingers along her fur, loving the moment you were in.

"oh and to be clear," you started after moments of silence. you tried your best to look at vinnie. "i would love to be your wife."

he kissed your head, rubbing your back with a smile on his face. he knew for sure, no matter how long it takes, he was going to make you his wife.

#vhackerr #vinnie hacker blurb #vinnie hacker fluff #vinnie hacker imagines #vinnie hacker smut #vinniehackerfanfic #vinniehacker #vincent hacker

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nebulousbrainsoup · 10 months

Note

I’ve had this thought in my mind for a while and even at work I just couldn’t get it out of my head so I was wondering if you can write a Hongjoong smut and include the reader leaving kisses (maybe some hickeys) on Hongjoong’s “NO1LIKEME” tattoo, and that just making joong go ballistic and messing up the reader (in a good way ofc)☺️🫶

ohhhhh nonnie. yes, yes, 1000x yes you absolutely can. as someone who loves having their tattoos traced and such, you have my heart for this request. i'm smooching you on the forehead (with ur consent). i'm so very sorry this took so long my dear, but i hope you enjoy!

Mine

PAIRING: boyfriend!hongjoong x fem bodied!reader (no pronouns used) GENRE: smut, fluff TAGS/WARNINGS: established relationship, hongjoong's tattoo, no use of y/n, quick edit, the rest are under the cut~ WORD COUNT: 2.5k of mostly filth!

nsfw tags under the cut ; masterlist | join my taglist | buy me a coffee?

this work is 18+. this is a friendly reminder that if i catch a minor interacting with this work, they will be blocked. so don't :)

divs from @cafekitsune

NSFW TAGS/WARNINGS: pwp, pet names (love, dollface, little dove, angel), hickeys, thigh riding, edging, oral (fem receiving), unprotected sex (boo 👎), possessive!joong strikes again, creampie; lmk if i missed any

It had begun innocently enough. You were laid out across the couch with your head in Hongjoong’s lap, the most recent episode of what you two had deemed your show playing on the TV. He was enthralled, eyes glued to the screen, stomach twitching with his gasps and fist clenching the cushions every time something big happened. Your gaze, however, had been locked onto the black calligraphy etched into his skin, “NO1LIKEME” on display for anyone who dared think otherwise. The seasons were changing, the weather just this past month turning warm enough to force your boyfriend out of his sweaters and hoodies and, just as you had every year since he got it, you found yourself obsessing over his tattoo.

Thoughtlessly, you reached up, your fingers barely coming in contact with the ink before he jumped slightly, and you jerked your hand back. “S-Sorry.” You huffed a laugh, turning back to the TV to hide your visible embarrassment.

To your surprise, he let out a quiet giggle, and you glanced back up to find a curious half-smile on his face. “It’s okay," he reassured, “I just wasn’t expecting it.” You nodded slightly dismissively, lost in your own little world of mortification. Of all the things for him to catch you ogling, it was his tattoo. How weird did he think you were, now?

Before you could delve too far down that particular shame-filled rabbit hole, a weight settled on your stomach, yanking you out of your spiral. Hongjoong’s hand had dropped from the couch, and when you tossed a confused look in his direction, you were met with a warm, reassuring smile. “Now you don’t have to reach up as far,” he muttered, giving your hip a squeeze before turning back to your show. The heat that had risen to your cheeks amplified as you blinked up at him in mild shock.

When you reached up again, you caught his eyes flickering your way, and you could have sworn his arm shifted toward you, but he didn’t pull away this time. Gingerly, your fingers brushed over the line of text, one after the other, up and back down his inner arm. You felt his muscles twitch under the attention, his fingers tapping out the energy you were filling him with as you set his nerves alight. You smiled softly, sneaking one more glance to his face before all your focus shifted entirely back to the characters curling up over his bicep, touch remaining feather-light as you resolved to trace each one. The little jolts that shook his arm only grew in intensity as you continued your ministrations, entranced by every curve and line, lips parted in awe.

The first quiet, nearly imperceptible change in his breathing was the little gasp left him when you were halfway through, your fingertip dancing over the loops dotting the ‘I.’ He shifted under you and you snuck a glance up to his face again and, finding his eyes still glued to the TV screen, you let your fingers continue their journey. The second came shortly thereafter, a ragged sigh leaving him when your touch left his skin just long enough to shift from the first ‘E’ to the ‘M,’ and this time he shifted with it, sitting up straighter and forcing your head closer to his knees. When you glanced up, you caught his gaze flickering away, eyelids hooded and plush lips parted as he turned back to the screen.

You bit back the sly grin that threatened to break over your face, taking your time drawing over the last two letters before letting your hand fall back to your side. He let out another shaky breath, glancing down to flash you a slight smile. “Have fun?” You nodded, and his warm smile spread. “Good. It’s there any time you want it.”

His hand left your hip to reach for the couch cushions again, but before he could stray too far, you caught his wrist and flashed him a playful glare.

“I wasn’t done,” you huffed, earning a quiet giggle from him.

“Okay, okay, go ahead.”

You grinned, shifting to sit up and watching with glee as his face shifted to confusion. You’d settled cross-legged, your back turned to the TV as you draped his arm over the back of the couch, returning it to its original position. Hongjoong had turned his attention from the show to you, following your movements with a confused, crooked smile. You flashed him an impish grin, trailing your fingers up and down his skin once more, delighting in the way his gaze darkened and he sighed. Barely managing to tear your eyes away from his face, you zeroed in on your next point of focus while your thumb swirled around it—the face doodled into the ‘O.’

Before he could protest, your head darted down, lips pressing against it. You felt him jerk underneath you, the couch cushions shifting beside you as he moved closer. Grinning against his skin, you let yourself wander, pressing increasingly open-mouthed kisses over the tattoo. You could feel him inching closer, each one making his arm twitch underneath you and pulling a quiet noise from him. Your eyes slipped shut as you drank them in, as you drank him in, your kisses lingering and your teeth beginning to graze his skin lightly. He hissed quietly with the first pinch, and you giggled to yourself, soothing the pain with your tongue.

The feeling of his free arm wrapping around your waist made you jump, turning to find his face mere centimeters from your own with a dangerous fire sparking to life in his eyes.

“What do you think you’re doing, love?”

You met him with that same impish grin he always wanted to wipe off of your face. “Having fun.”

He scoffed, rolling his eyes with an amused smile, and if you hadn’t already decided on your next course of action, you would have right then and there. Flashing him a glare and a disgruntled frown, you leaned back down to his arm, sinking your teeth into the bare skin below the crossbar of the ‘K.’ Hongjoong jolted under you, his muscles tensing and a choked off groan falling from his lips as you sucked and bit at it, your tongue following closely behind to lessen the sting. When you sat back on your heels again, the pretty pink spot left behind had you beaming with pride, and you darted down to press another kiss over it.

Before you could give anywhere else the same treatment, his grip on the cushions released and his hand snapped up, quickly fisting into the hair at your nape to pull you into a bruising kiss. Your noise of surprise was muffled by his lips and you melted into him, hands planting themselves firmly on his shoulders. His free arm wrapped its way around your waist and he tugged at you, guiding you to straddle his thigh. You were both breathless when he pulledyou back, lips red and swollen and eyes already glazing over.

“You really like my tattoo, huh?” he breathed, letting his right arm fall back against the couch. Immediately, your eyes zeroed back in on the ink, and you nodded. “Give it some more attention, then, dollface. Show me how much you love it.”

The grin fixed on his face made your stomach flip, a pleasant mixture of anticipation and arousal lighting through you. Biting your lip, you nodded, attention turning back to the text curling up his bicep. After pressing a kiss to the mark you had already left, you quickly shifted to dot the ‘I’ with a mark of your own making, sucking and lapping at Hongjoong’s skin. The quiet sighs he let out were music to your ears, and you spared a glance toward him, catching his gaze as you found it fixed solidly on you. The corner of his mouth ticked back into that signature smirk of his and you felt his thigh twitch under you, your breath catching in your throat. You paused your work, pulling back with a satisfying pop to face him better.

His smirk dropped, one eyebrow raising, and he relaxed again. “Done already?”

Heat and nerves coiled in your gut as he stared you down and you floundered for a response, shaking your head silently. Hongjoong always had a way of making you feel small with only a single look, like a mouse caught between a cat’s claws. Slowly, he let his eyes trail back to his tattoo, then back to your face. With a shaky sigh as your mind went a little hazy and lust-clouded, you returned your lips to his skin, resolving to trace every inch of the ink with your tongue. It only took seconds this time for his thigh to flex under you again, and you whined, grinding down against him. His quiet little giggle graced your ears and his free hand settled on your hip, encouraging you to continue your movements. With a soft whine, you complied, hips rolling against him.

It was only a few short minutes before your arousal had you abandoning your work halfway through, moving instead to press open-mouthed kisses over his skin, nipping at it every so often. You could hear his breathing becoming increasingly ragged as you too became more desperate, the soft whimpers and sighs you let out becoming more frequent as he toyed with you. They were music to his ears and, when coupled with the feeling of your lips worshiping his skin and the sight of you rutting against him, he could feel his own arousal quickly becoming unbearable. A particularly hard bite had him groaning openly and his thigh pressing harder against your aching cunt as his hips sought friction. You released him, throwing your head back with a moan, and he took the opportunity to grab a fistful of your hair again.

In a matter of seconds, Hongjoong had you face down against the couch, his fingers curling under the waistband of both your lounge shorts and your underwear. With one swift tug, you were left exposed to both the cold air and his hungry gaze. He let out a pleased sigh, one finger coming up to trace lightly between your folds, and a quiet giggle left him as he pulled it back, taking in the slick already coating it.

“Needy for me already,” he purred, and you nodded into the cushions, letting one of your legs fall from the side of the couch to spread yourself further for him.

Leaning down, he lapped a fat stripe over you, earning a choked, breathy moan. Humming happily, he quickly dropped back down to your clit, lips quickly closing around the sensitive bud. You cried out as he sucked harshly on it, hands stretching out in front of you in search of anything more substantial to grab onto. He quickly shifted up, and you sighed in relief, eyes slipping shut as he began to work you open on his tongue—not that you needed the prep. You would never complain about the magic your boyfriend worked with his tongue, though, your hips rocking back eagerly against his face as you let out little whimpers and sighs.

When he pulled away with one last lingering suck to your clit, you let out a keen he wanted on a recording, playing on loop in his ears. Sighing contentedly, he pressed one last kiss to the sensitive bundle of nerves and sat back on his heels, promptly shoving his sweats down his thighs. You had barely recovered from the second high he’d dangled just out of your reach when you felt the tip of his cock prodding at your entrance, and your whines pitched up again, hips nudging back toward him. He pressed into you in one fluid motion, both of you letting out heady moans—you at the fullness of him, and Hongjoong at the way your walls hugged him.

Once you had both had a moment to adjust, he pulled his hips back and snapped into you, the suddenness pulling a shout from your throat. He chuckled as he leaned over you and grabbed another handful of your hair, bracing himself on his right arm and forcing your gaze onto the marks you had left. He held his hips still as he pressed his back against yours, lips finding the skin just below your ear.

“I’m yours,” he muttered against your skin, tugging at your hair lightly.

A lazy smile spread across your lips and you nodded, committing the sight of his tattoo, painted with your marks, to memory. He laughed quietly at your already fucked out state, the noise sending electricity lighting down your spine. Without warning, he sank his teeth into your skin, pulling it between his teeth, sucking and laving at it enough that you were sure the mark he’d left would be a deep purple in the morning.

“And you’re mine, my little dove. Now sing for me.”

Pressing one last kiss to the mark he’d left, Hongjoong straightened back up, quickly setting into a brutal pace. Your quiet sighs and breathy whines were traded for full-throated moans and needy keens as he railed into you, one hand still in your hair while the other rested firmly on your hip. Each snap of his hips against yours punched another unfiltered sound or curse from you and you melted under him, back arching further into the couch below you. The shift had his cock dragging across your sweet spot with every stroke and you cried out his name, the high you’d lost building rapidly.

“Cum for me, angel,” he managed, pace picking up that much more as he began to use you to chase his own high.

Only seconds more passed before you were unraveling around him, walls spasming and pulling him in tighter. A drawn-out groan was forced out of him as he fucked you through it, hips stuttering as his own climax washed over him like a wave. He bottomed out within you and you sighed happily, your own orgasm prolonged as thick ropes of his release painted your insides white. You were sated, full of him, surrounded by Hongjoong, a blissful smile gracing your features as you let yourself bask in the afterglow, floating somewhere between consciousness and unconsciousness.

You were vaguely aware of movement in your peripheral when you came to again, and a shiver lit down your spine. You were cold, lonely and empty; but in a moment warmth and a familiar scent of home surrounded you, and your sleepy smile returned. Your eyes blinked open to find Hongjoong’s arms wrapped firmly around you. A few of the marks you’d left were visible from this angle, and you let out a pleased hum, leaning forward to press a kiss to one of them.

“Mine,” you sighed, and felt the little giggle that shook his chest.

He leaned down, pressing his lips to the space below your ear, echoing quietly, “Mine.”

TAGLISTS [all open]: permanent: @justhere4kpop @tastymintchocolate @soul-jae ateez: @pyeonghongrie-main @thatonenoona

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yourmomxx · 1 year

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summary: sleepless nights admiring jason

(also yes, I gave him tattoos in this, don’t blame me I’m a whore)

Gotham City Nights were always busy. Always. It was like an unspoken rule, floating heavily above the residents of the city, reminding them that this was, indeed, the place of all worst crime - and that it lived well up to its name.

Nothing easy to digest for someone who had - for whatever idiotic and suicidal reason - decided to move here from somewhere else, somewhere more quiet, or just spend a few days. In the beginning, the never ending howls of dogs and clattering of garbage bins brought anxiety and stole sleep.

It was like the city was doing its own form of natural selection - only the ones with the strongest will and mind would be allowed to stay.

You were one of the people that had not always lived in Gotham, but over time you had gotten used to the city’s cries and tantrums. Similar to right now.

The muffled noise of the Gotham night was heard outside the window.

Busy noises of driving cars, honking, and the one or other siren howling in the distance, all shielded off by solid walls of stone and thick glass.

Not much light usually managed its way up to the apartment and through the curtains, but today it was a full moon and the low white flooded half the room.

You were laying in bed with your boyfriend, Jason Todd. The one and only Red Hood.

He was dressed only in his boxers, considering he was short on his sleeping shirt that you were wearing right now - and had stolen from him.

There was a blanket tangled somewhere between the two of you, but it didn’t really matter. The heat was up, and the landlord never really knew how to manage the right temperature.

You put your chin on his chest and observed the man in front of you. The moonlight made its way through the window and caught on Jason’s face, making the one half light up in cold white and dipping the other in almost utter darkness.

His eyes were closed, pretending to be asleep when he really wasn’t. He knew you knew. But you assumed it was more comfortable for him to rest his eyelids than to force them apart.

You didn’t have a problem with that. You greeted it with happiness, even.

Your body completely draped over his, one leg on each side of his hip, you were absentmindedly tracing the lines that the black ink had left on his arm. Warmth radiated off Jason’s body and into your stomach, where your skin was connected with his, and the broad, marked-up chest lifted and fell in composed breaths.

The lines were thin, then thick, some entangled and the older ones even sometimes blurry.

You traced them feather-lightly with your fingertips, from his lower arm up to his biceps and to his shoulder. The higher you got, the less skin and more ink was visible.

When your finger reached his collarbone, the tattoos began to stray apart again, and you felt his skin make a slight bump under your fingertip. The beginning of the giant y-shaped scar on Jason’s chest. The autopsy scar.

Slowly, carefully, your ran your finger down the healed skin, already turned white after all those years.

There was a time where Jason had been so self-conscious about his wounds, his scars. He rarely took his shirts off whenever he was around you, not even when the two of you had sex. But now, after years of living, and being together, Jason had slowly but surely revealed himself to you. You knew him inside and out, and yet, everytime he let you see him like this, so openly vulnerable, you couldn’t help but feel absolutely fascinated by this man.

Your man.

“What are you doing?” The low rumble of Jason’s sudden voice almost made you jump.

You lifted up your gaze, your finger staying resting where it was on the scar, and came to meet Jason’s, who had apparently opened his eyes and looked at you with an attentive stare.

The moonlight refracting off the edges of his pupils gave his eyes a glimmer of dark sapphires. It fell through his lashes and drew long, slender shadows down his cheek.

As if in trance, your hand reached up to him, pushing back a few strands of loose hair out of his forehead, and caressing his cheek, resting there. The entire time, his eyes didn’t leave you.

“You are so beautiful,” you muttered to him. Jason just kept staring at you, lips slightly parted, eyes stuck with that adoring look of love, and his eyebrows ever so slightly scrunched up as if he was confused.

Jason had very long lashes. You had often been jealous of him because of it. Long, many and thick, shielding his eyes if he wanted them to. But never from you. His eyes could tell you so many stories if you looked into them, stories and thoughts and feelings without ever speaking as much as one word.

You didn’t verbally elaborate to the silent question he was asking, just slowly lowered your head again and placed featherlight, but genuine kisses on the Y-shaped scar on his broad chest.

And when you looked back up, the full moon was still shining through the curtains, still spending his light to kiss Jason’s beautiful face, getting caught in the lashes, dripping from his hair, swirling into his eyes.

‘Beautiful,’ you thought. ‘So, so beautiful.’ No other word came to mind to describe what you were seeing, and yet it was not enough to properly describe the feeling that spread its way through your chest.

The ache and the longing you felt for him, even though he was right there in front of you.

Promptly, you pushed yourself forward and laid your lips onto his. Whatever you felt and couldn’t put into words, you managed to say it through the kiss that you shared with him. How you loved him, and how perfect he was, and how much you wanted him every time of every day, and how you managed to miss him even when he was just. right. there.

Beautiful, beautiful Jason Todd.

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ghouljams · 9 months

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We haven’t touched on Cowboy!Ghost’s, well, ghosts before, and I literally couldn’t get this out of my head last night. I’m going to treat this like actual fic, I feel so fancy...

Warnings:

Hurt/Comfort, Graphic depictions of animal death, PTSD, Ghost going through it

Pairing:

Ghost x OC (Goose) [can be read as x reader]

Summary:

Early days of Ghost and Goose’s relationship. Ghost has always prided himself on his ability to handle any situation, no matter how bleak. So why does he find himself so ill equipped to handle something as small as a couple chickens death?

A coyote got into the henhouse last night.

You can hear its yips and snarls, the aggressive barks of your cattle dog as it darts at the chicken wire, the starling lack of clucking. You whistle for the dog, and it races to go check on the other animals. The last thing you need is for the coyote to get into it with Mav when you pull its sorry ass from the chicken pen. You yawn, trying to hold onto the hope that at least some of your ladies got somewhere safe before the carnage started. You’ll stop by the tractor supply later and grab some chicks to bolster your flock again.

You stop. Watching Ghost stand frozen in front of the pen, shoulders tight, barely breathing. His eyes a million miles away.

The pen is littered with half shredded chickens. Feather and muscle strewn about. The wild frenzy of a half starved predator laid out in front of you. The loose organs and scent of death turns your stomach, you can’t imagine what it does to a fresh soldier. Ghost’s finger twitches, beating a rapid tattoo against his thigh, his gun is still neatly holstered. You suppose that’s for the best, or maybe a signal of the worst.

You think about your first fourth of July after your Daddy’s second tour. The way he’d disappeared into the house like a ghost. The way your momma handed you off to your granny and followed after him. How your granny had told you: sometimes you see something so bad it never leaves you.

"Go wait in the house," you tell him as soft as you can, pulling at his arm to try and pull his attention. Ghost nods mutely, eyes still glued to the blood soaked earth and torn limp bodies. "Go on," you press a little more firmly, you lead him away from the henhouse, out of sight of it, "I'll be in shortly."

Ghost follows your direction, ears ringing, head stuffed with cotton. Everything feels far away and yet so brightly present. He can smell gunpowder and burnt flesh, can feel the wet warmth of blood on his clothes where he knows there isn't any. Can hear the shouting. He pushes the front door to the house open and holds the brass handle tight in his fingers for a long moment, just standing, waiting. As if he'll hear the pang of gunfire over the infinitely patient silence.

He goes to the kitchen and puts the kettle on. Stares at the black iron as it sits on the burner and waits for the yip of the coyote, the last gunshot. It doesn’t come. You take his hand in the silence and turn the burner off. Lead him to the table and sit him heavily in one of the wooden chairs. Ghost keeps his eyes forward, his shoulders rigid. He waits. He doesn't know what he's waiting for. For the memories to stop.

His hat is removed, set carefully on the table. A warm cloth touches his face, wiping gently at the crease in his forehead, at the stern set of his brow. Your fingers reach for the edge of his mask and he grabs your wrist, eyes finally darting to yours in a panic. He can't. It's too much, too hard. He can't.

Somehow you seem to understand, fingers sliding instead to cup his jaw, to rub your thumb against his cheek over the soft cotton. The washcloth wipes his brow again, still warm and soothing.

"You're safe," you murmur, "Safe and sound right here with me. And Daddy.” You tack Price on, as if you might not be enough to convince him. As if it isn’t your touch that’s bringing him back, your eyes that hold his with such kind patience it makes his heart hurt. “We won't let anything hurt you."

Ghost doesn’t say anything, can’t make his lips move or conjure a thought as to what he might say. If there is anything to say. Is there anything to say?

You tip his head forward, press the lightly damp cloth against the back of his neck. He lets his hand drop from your wrist as you move your hand from his cheek to scratch your fingers through his hair. Gentle, calming touches. Never asking more from him than his comfort.

He settles his hands on your hips, and for a moment he can pretend you’re his.

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happilyhertale · 1 year

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Destiny is all - Osferth x female!reader, Part 5

Summary: You are Finan's sister. You live in a village in Scotland, near the border with Northumbria. You lead a quiet life until your brother decides to visit you with his boys and your life changes completely.

Pairing: Osferth x fem!reader

Author’s note: Hey you (:

Now I am finally sharing my little Osferth story with you. The events are a little different from the story in the series. (No, Osferth will not die either). I hope you will enjoy it! English is my second language, please forgive me if I made any mistakes (:

Word count: 2.4 k

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 6, Part 7

Other stories of mine

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

As you follow the Dane towards the camp, you steal a glance over your shoulder to see Sihtric and Uhtred disappear into the distance. Turning your gaze back ahead, you can't help but notice the Dane walking beside you. Though he stands tall, he seems almost unimpressive, his thin frame catching your eye. As your gaze falls back down, you see the sticks in your hand. You feel a little out of place. But as you step further into the camp, a stunning woman approaches you. Her beauty takes your breath away as you gaze upon her long brown locks, which are adorned with feathers, just like yours. She smiles at you, "Ah, great. We need wood," and takes the wood from you. You nod at her with a smile.

As the woman walks away from you again, you see that the Dane who "found" you is already gone. You just walk further into the camp and try not to let on. You have never seen so many Danes in one place. You can't help but let your eyes wander curiously.

Uhtred has told you before that Ubba is tall. He is probably taller than most Danes. And that he has blond hair and also a tattoo on his face. Your eyes continue to wander.

But after a while it turns out that it is not so easy to find Ubba.

As the sun begins to set, the surroundings are plunged into darkness and the presence of the blond Danes seems to fill every corner of the field of vision. It is difficult to spot a taller-than-average Dane when everyone is huddled around a fire and their figures are bathed in flickering light.

With a hopeful stride, you walk on in search of a quiet place to sit and contemplate your surroundings. You pass numerous Danes and are surprised at how many of them have gathered in this area. However, a feeling of unease creeps over you as you think about the reason for their gathering.

They are eating and drinking. Loud conversations and laughter can be heard everywhere. Some Danes are having fun with women in front of the others. But you don't let yourself be distracted, you keep walking to find a quiet spot.

As you stride through the camp, the sound of some men calling out to you fades into the background. Your determination drives you forward, unimpressed by their futile attempts to attract your attention. Only when you reach the edge of the camp do you come to a halt. In the distance, the glittering waters of the sea spread out before you. You see some of the dark silhouettes of the Danes' boats anchored on the shore.

A heavy sigh escapes your lips as you turn back to camp and a wave of uncertainty washes over you. Where will you spend the night? How will you get in touch with the others here? And above all: where on earth is Ubba? These questions buzz around in your head and tug at your emotions with a sense of unease.

But then a dark voice pulls you out of your thoughts, "Who are you?"

You turn around and there is a tall Dane standing in front of you. You can't tell if he's taller than the other Danes, but he's very broad, tall and blond. And he has a face tattoo. That must be Ubba.

When you remember he asked you a question.

"Alva," you say, "I am Alva"

Ubba tilts his head, "Have I seen you before, Alva?" he asks hesitantly.

You get slightly nervous, but you don't want to let it show.

"Seen, maybe... but nothing more," you try to say cheekily.

A broad grin spreads across Ubba's face, "Then.. I want you"

He takes a step towards you, but you take a step back.

"Nah," you lift your finger and grin slightly, "To keep the tension up... A woman shouldn't give in so quickly," you tell him.

He looks at you confused at first, but then he grins again, "You want tension? You can have it..." he says. You are startled for a moment as Ubba approaches you.

"Ubba... we need you," suddenly sounds from behind Ubba.

Ubba turns his head around, "Now?" he asks.

You look a little behind Ubba and see another Dane there. It could be the Dane who "found" you outside the camp. He is tall, but thin. But you are not sure. The Danes all look very similar.

Ubba just grunts, "All right..."

He turns to you again, "We'll have dinner together tonight," he says with a grin.

You just nod at him with a smile. Ubba turns and leaves.

At first you stand around a little lost. But then you notice a campfire with a few women sitting around. You sit down with the women and act as if you had never done anything else.

When Ubba suddenly reappears, you look up at him.

"You. Come with me," he says simply.

The other women look at you, but you get up with a smile and follow Ubba.

You pass some people until Ubba leads you into a tent. When you enter, you see a table with food and drinks. Some Danes are already sitting around the table and drinking. You sit down with them, but Ubba makes sure that you sit close to him. He doesn't eat much, but drinks all the more. His hand keeps trying to wander along your body. You keep biting your tongue. But fortunately Ubba keeps getting distracted by conversation. That always lets you breathe a sigh of relief.

You abstain from too many drinks because you want to keep a clear mind. You try to follow the ongoing conversations but find them rather uninteresting. The topics are mainly about past "exploits" and trivial things, with no mention of current activities. It occurs to you that maybe they don't talk about such things in the presence of women?

The evening drags on and on. And at some point Ubba is drunk as a skunk. When the other Danes have also consumed enough alcohol, they try to carry Ubba to bed. Ubba doesn't notice much anymore, but he can still call for you.

"Alva!" he calls simply and you swallow.

The Danes just leave the tent and you lie down with Ubba. You don't really dare to breathe or move. But when he just starts snoring, you feel relief spreading through you.

You are now alone in the tent and only Ubba's snoring can be heard. You turn on your side and let your gaze wander around the tent a little.

Oh, how you long for Osferth. His absence leaves a cold and lonely emptiness. The thought of a chunky, snoring Dane lying next to you is anything but comforting, for it is Osferth's warm body that you long for. The gentle rhythm of his breath on your neck and the way he wraps you in his arms in the night are but distant memories. As you contemplate the possibility of never seeing him again, tears well up in your eyes. The fear of a tragic fate that could befall you here sends panic coursing through your veins, but you try to suppress these thoughts and push them away. With a deep exhale and wiping away your tears, you try to regain your composure. Your moment of comfort is abruptly interrupted, however, when you feel Ubba's arm clasp you tightly. The suddenness of his touch startles you, but your apprehension is soon soothed by the sound of his snoring, allowing you to calm down again.

You mustn't let yourself be distracted, you think to yourself. You are here to do a job and then the boys will get you out of here.

As the night progresses, you don't exactly fall into a deep sleep. Instead, you find yourself in a slumbering state that pulls you out of consciousness again and again. As the first rays of sunlight filter through the tent, you rise quietly, careful not to wake Ubba, who is still snoring loudly.

You step outside and enjoy the peaceful surroundings as you let your eyes wander over the quiet camp. It is still early, but you can already see a couple of women sitting around a nearby campfire, and you walk over to them with a smile. As you sit down with them, you notice that they are not discussing anything particularly important, but the simple conversation is enough to fill the morning with warmth and companionship.

Nothing particularly noteworthy happens during the day, and you are content to bask in the company of the women. At one point, you watch Ubba stumble out of his tent, showing off his well-built body as he washes himself at a nearby water source. Despite his scars, you can't help but admire the strength and resilience he embodies.

But ultimately it is the company of women that catches your attention again. Even if your conversations are not particularly deep, you appreciate the sense of community and connection they convey.

As the sun sets, Ubba accompanies you back to his tent. You and Ubba were alone in the tent and you tried to keep a safe distance between you and him. But he persistently pulls you closer to him and tries to take you in his arms. Eventually you find yourself on his bed, although you try hard to keep your distance.

Desperate, you try to divert his attention by surreptitiously pouring more ale into his cup. This also seems to work at first, but only seems to increase his lust for your body in the end. His fingers run over your skin, but you playfully push them away, laughing coyly. Undeterred, you fill his cup with more ale.

"Do you know that you are one of the most seductive women who have ever lain in my bed?" he whispers in your ear.

You chuckle, "And how many women have ya told that to?"

He has to grin, "You have a naughty tongue"

He leans forward and begins to lick your neck gently. You chuckle again, but take his face in your hands. You can tell by the look in his eyes that he must have drunk enough ale already. He looks at you with a grin. You get a little nervous and don't quite know what to do. You just kiss him. You are surprised when you realise how good a kisser he is. But immediately Osferth and his soft lips come to your mind and you pull your head away. Ubba begins to let his hands wander over your body again.

Ubba grins at you, but you see that his eyes keep falling shut. You hand Ubba another mug of ale and he drinks it down almost in one go. You look at him a little surprised, but he just burps.

"I need to rest for a moment," he murmurs suddenly and leans his head back. His hands continue to wander gently over your thigh. But they become slower in their movements as Ubba slowly closes his eyes. You lie down beside him and watch him. You relax a little as you become aware of his snoring again. Then you sigh.

If this goes on, you won't learn anything really valuable. Despite the copious consumption of alcohol, Ubba is not talkative. Instead, it only makes him sleepy, which you find somewhat relieving. However, the need for information remains.

As the night drags on, you do not sleep, and your thoughts constantly wander to Osferth. You long for his company and wish you were in bed beside him rather than with Ubba. You close your eyes and try to recall an image of Osferth lying beside you to calm your mind...

Dawn brings only a minimal sense of relief from the sleepless night, but you manage to free yourself from Ubba's grip and slip quietly out of bed. This day also passes uneventfully. You also find it difficult to stay close to Ubba as he is constantly talking to other people in different places.

But towards evening, most of the group comes together. You drink extensively and eat. You kind of like that about the Danes.

Ubba approaches you again. He embraces you from behind and pulls you towards him. His arms are around your waist and he presses his face into the crook of your neck. You feel him inhale your scent.

"Tonight I will make you a very happy woman," he whispers softly in your ear.

You close your eyes, but not because it arouses you, "Yes... finally," you whisper.

Hopefully the boys will get you out before then, you think to yourself.

Ubba pulls you along and sits down with you in a group. But instead of you sitting next to him, he pulls you onto his lap. You gasp at first as you land on his lap. But he holds you tightly in his arms. His fingers caress your thighs incessantly. Indeed, the mood around you is very exuberant. There is much laughter and much drinking. You are also drinking now, but you continue to hold back.

As a voice rings out and a Dane asks, "When do we get to Winchester?"

You listen as you are about to take a sip of your ale.

For a short time no one says anything, but finally Ubba answers.

"The plan is that we will be there in a fortnight. The men from Skorpa will join us shortly before that," Ubba says dryly.

As your ears pick up the words, your breath catches in your throat in anticipation of the information to come. Feigning indifference, you nestle closer to Ubba and trace delicate patterns on his firm chest with your fingers. A mischievous grin plays around Ubba's lips as he returns your gaze, but his attention is soon diverted by the other Dane's voice.

"And how much should I pay the contact in Winchester? So that there will be fewer guards there when we arrive?" he asks.

You try to listen attentively. You drink from your ale again. Ubba begins to run his fingers over your body again. They travel up your thigh.

"Ubba?" you hear again from the Dane.

Ubba looks at him again, thinking for a moment.

"As much as necessary... as little as possible," he answers briefly and succinctly before looking at you again.

Without waiting for an answer, he looks at you. He smiles slightly, "Shall we retire?" he asks you gently. You swallow a little. But just as you are about to say something, you hear shouting.

"Fire! Fire!!! The boats!"

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Tag list

@aemonds-wifey @hoshi-miharu-blog @arryn-nyx @aemond-targaryenx @praline357 @chainsawsangel @assortedseaglass @darkenchantress @aemondmama @melsunshine @sahvlren @tinykryptonitewerewolf @tssf-imagines @tosiaf @greenowlfactif @slytherinambitious @svtansdaddyx @sarahkimtae @sarahssm121 @drgonstone @fan-goddess @parabatei-winchester @yentroucnagol @heavenly1927 @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @it-is-getting-better @mirandastuckinthe80s @lauftivy @bcon24 @writingaboutlove1998 @helena0011

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the-travelling-witch · 2 months

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𝐏𝐈𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐈𝐎 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐌‘𝐒 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐂 𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄

summary: what kind of music the piercers/tattoo artists of my modern au would listen to

characters: piercer!/tattoo artist! xiao :: scara :: kazuha :: venti :: aether :: heizou

my modern au || genshin masterlist || the playlist

𝐗𝐈𝐀𝐎

melancholic and wistful/dreamy

black over-ears

When he felt like nobody around him understood him, Xiao fell into the comforting embrace of music, listening to artists who sang about the sentiments he kept to himself. It has always helped him express himself with pencil and pen though, letting the graphite tip dance over the paper more smoothly and less hesitantly. To this day, Xiao uses music to block out the world when it all gets too much and familiar tunes help him calm down.

死ぬのがいいわ- fuji kaze, exile- taylor swift/ bon iver, young and beautiful- lana del rey, gales of song- belle, the moon will sing- the crane wives

𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐀

indie rock

grey over-ears

Scara has been heavily influenced by Venti whose music could always be heard throughout their shared flat. While it vexed him at first, soon he found himself nodding along to the melodies, something his roommate noticed and then offered to share a Spotify account until Scara decided to make his own. And, although he’d rather die than admit it, despite how much he loathes his upbringing, he can’t deny that some classic pieces sneaked in between his usual rotation.

shake it out- florence + the machine, allies or enemies- the crane wives, too close- sir chloe , bohemian rhapsody- queen, winter- vivaldi

𝐊𝐀𝐙𝐔𝐇𝐀

indie, folklore

old school white wired earphones

Kazuha loves to let his spirit rest as he absorbs the feelings artists pour into their music. For him, it’s important that he can connect to the story that’s being told, either through the lyrics or the sentiment the music conveys. He opts for rather calm songs that invite you to relax even if there’s a deeper meaning to the lyrics. Music is a way for him to create his peace of mind when he can’t be out and surrounded by the sound of nature.

feather- sabrina carpenter, cardigan- taylor swift, saw you in a dream- the japanese house, to the mountains- lizzy mcalpine, let’s fall in love for the night- finneas

𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈

the definition of “listens to every genre” but has a soft spot for deep and tragic lyrics paired with a funky and upbeat sound

both over-ears and earbuds; also has a collection of old wired earphones tangled together (half of them are broken too)

Venti’s Spotify account is working overtime, that app is never closed. As a former band member, he knows how to play a variety of instruments and has tried a lot of styles himself, so he’s very open minded when it comes to new genres. He also absolutely kills it at karaoke nights, even if he’s already a few drinks in. Something might actually be wrong when he’s not nodding or singing along to the music playing in his head or tapping out the beat on whatever surface is closest. In general, handing Venti the aux is a fantastic idea because he can somehow always accurately gauge what music is the right mood for the given situation. He also judges films based on the soundtrack.

夜に駆ける- yoasobi, people watching- conan gray, kingdom dance- alan menken, u- belle/millennium parade, icarus- bastille

𝐀𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑

(80s) rock and metal or pop

rose-gold or white earbuds

For Aether, listening to music is the time he can let his (gorgeous) hair down. While he’s normally busy making sure everyone else is okay and is doing fine, he seldom takes the time to take care of himself. So when he can lean back and turn up the volume, it’s a very welcome breath of fresh air. The deep base and powerful voices help catalyse any feelings that might have built up over time, and, just maybe, the songs and lyrics are familiar from the time he was lost and confused about what his place in the world was. Yet, he can also appreciate the catchy tunes of popular pop songs that get stuck in his head.

killer queen- queen, master of puppets- metallica, one step closer- linkin park, valentine- måneskin, paradise- sophie and the giants/ purple disco machine

𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐙𝐎𝐔

your local girl group stan

branded earbuds (ahem ahem airpods)

Heizou is a very energetic person and it shows in his music taste. Not only are his playlists full of upbeat kpop girl group bangers, he also knows just about all of the corresponding dances. More often than not, you can hear him humming and whistling along even when he doesn’t have his earbuds in. It’s also a great gateway to interacting with customers; you better believe Heizou is already halfway into a conversation when he catches a glimpse of a photocard.

fancy- twice, eta- newjeans, unforgiven- le sserrafim, queencard- (g)-idle, zimzalabim- red velvet

if you like my content, reblogs, comments and asks are always much appreciated ♡

➺ send in an ask to be added to or removed from my tag list

Genshin Impact: @mccnstruck @teyvattales @silentmoths @ainescribe @meimeimeirin @dustofthedailylife @nsojbbkkm @kazuuhhaaaa @inufinuf @ynverse @nico707 @boba-is-a-soup @hellithides @ryuryuryuyurboat @the-guardian-kitsune

Modern Au: @r0ttenhearts @bananasquash @hoshiwitch @franaby

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kaihuntrr · 11 months

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The Sea Prince: The Watcher, ‘Civilians’, and Hunters.

To celebrate this au being one of my most favorite things to work on, I’ve made designs for the Solidarity brothers, Big B, and redesigned the trio!

Closeups and introductions under the cut :> here they are!

Now that’s character design! I’m super proud of how they turned out, and they form a rainbow by pure coincidence. Let’s talk about them!

Starting off with the duos!

‘Nosy Neighbors’ & ‘Mean Gills’

Big B is a new one so I’ll talk about him first. I’ll talk about the other three as characters :)

‘Big B.’

Big B is a Watcher; an organization that studies and hunts sea monsters. He used to be a famous vagabond hunter, but due to some mysterious circumstances, he retired early. You’ll meet him much later on in the story, but he’s quite an interesting character! He keeps his secrets. He knows yours. Who knows if he's trustworthy or not.

He seems to have a connection to Grian.

‘Pearl Moone.’

She’s a cocky, energetic person to be around. She doesn’t seem too trusting with strangers, especially hunters. Her accessories are golden, and she has a scar over her left eye so she definitely stands out.

She has a red shell bracelet similar to Scott’s necklace. Are they friends?

‘Scott Major.’

A pleasant, sassy, and entertaining server in the port town the Red Canaries visit. He often flirts with Martyn, leaving the hunter speechless with promises of something more. He’s hiding something. Maybe he’ll tell Martyn his secrets one day?

He swears a couple of necklaces, but one is hidden under his shirt.

‘Martyn Woods.’

The second mate to the Red Canaries. Loyal to a fault, he prioritizes everyone before himself, even neglecting his needs. He believes that his isolated life is worth it, but his feelings change the more Scott talks his way into his life. Is he ready to love again, even after what happened to Ren?

He has a couple of scars, some big ones on his chest. He has a locket and tattoo of a crown and a necklace trinket of the first monster he killed as a boy.

‘Bad Boys’, the Solidarity brothers.

A bunch of new designs here! I referenced their bad boy skins so they have similar ‘leather jackets’. I’m excited for you all to learn about them and their history.

‘Grian Solidarity.’

The youngest adopted brother of the trio. He’s chaotic, but he’s shifty. His birth parents were from the Watchers, but after their death, he was entrusted to the Solidarity family to care for him. They died when he was young, so he doesn’t remember them. He loves his brothers to death and does what he can to protect them and his crew.

He, like his other brothers, keeps a locket with their family photo. He wears a yellow bandana with his name crudely stitched on it. Strangely, he has some similarities to Pearl…

‘Joel Solidarity.’

The awkward, funny middle child. He has the most muscle out of the brothers but he masks it with his pleasant behavior. He quickly accepted Grian into the family and shared his interest in starting the hunter crew. When they were younger, the two would sneak away from their older brother to meet Martyn and Impulse by the docks. Currently, he’s engaged to Lizzie Shadow and is waiting for winter so they can finally tie the knot.

He keeps a falcon feather in his hat as his parents were falconers. He wears his red bandana, also with crude stitches of his name, on his head.

‘Jimmy Solidarity.’

The oldest and most emotional of the brothers. He wasn’t particularly interested in becoming a hunter, preferring to spend time with the birds and become a falconer, but he loved his brothers so he went with it. He’s impulsive, stubborn, but a wonderful and simple person all around.

He keeps his red bandana on his belt, with neat stitches of his name. He has a braided bracelet and a tattoo on his neck.

...and he’s dead.

...or is he?

There’s a LOT going on with these designs, a lot of spoilers in them so what I’ve said could or could not be hints to what’s to come! Not sure when the next design dump would be, but I think my upcoming post would be fun, particularly for those who want to read the story ;) all in due time.

oh, also new life Scott is partially ginger. I predicted that HA- /j I’ll probably whip up art of those two bc. That’s incredibly funny-

Which one of these characters/ designs is your favorite? Let me know! :D

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runninriot · 9 days

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written for @subeddieweek

complete fic posted on ao3

Sweet Thing

rated: E | tags: Client Eddie Munson, Pro Dom Steve Harrington, restraints, sensation play (nipple clamps, pinwheel), 18+ content | snippet, complete fic and tag list on ao3

He shouldn’t have favourites. Shouldn’t feel drawn more to one than to others. They’re all equal, all deserve the best (worst) treatment. It’s a job, a very unusual one but a job nonetheless. He’s here to serve, to execute what he’s being paid for – to make secret fantasies come true and not to succumb to his own.

But ever since the curly haired angel stepped foot into his dungeon some months ago, Steve found it hard to keep it strictly professional.

There is something about that man, Eddie, that messes with Steve’s head in a way he can’t really explain.

He’s good-looking, with dark ink scattered all over his pale skin. Slender but with defined muscles in his shoulders and arms. Has strong thighs, an ass that looks much too biteable, and he has these big, round puppy dog eyes that are especially pretty when they’re red-rimmed and teary.

Eddie is really something to look at and maybe that is why Steve is so hung up on him.

Thankfully, he’s good at pretending.

Can hide the fact that – although not in a physical sense – each session with him is as fulfilling for Steve as it is for the beautiful man currently splayed out on top of the latex sheets.

It’s a real treat to watch him writhe and shiver, his muscles tense from the enormous effort it takes for Eddie to try to hold still.

He fails miserably, can’t keep his arms and legs from instinctively tugging at the restraints keeping him bound to the bed.

Steve leans in close to Eddie’s ear, lips purposely grazing the shell to let the vibration of his voice tickle his skin.

“Didn’t I tell you not to move?”

“Y-yes. ‘M sorry.”

Eddie strains his neck, obviously trying to bring some distance between himself and Steve’s mouth but he can’t get far.

“Y-yes,” Steve mocks him as he repeats Eddie’s stuttering response. “Yes what? Think you forgot something there, sweet thing. Do I have to remind you of the rules?”

Steve grabs him by his throat, the press of his fingers tight enough to force a desperate gasp out of him.

With his other hand, he tightens the clamp on Eddie’s left nipple, turns the screw once, twice until a pathetic little whimper leaves Eddie’s shiny, parted lips.

“Yes, Sir! I’m sorry, Sir. I- please, it hurts.”

Good, Steve laughs to himself, satisfied with the way Eddie already has this trembling in his voice like he’s close to crying. And isn’t that a beautiful thought. Eddie is always so pretty when he cries.

“You gonna behave now and stay still?”

Steve takes a moment to marvel at the view he’s presented with.

Eddie’s eyes are wet, a sheer layer of unshed tears glistening in the dim light of the candles shining down on them from the sideboard to their left.

He is tied down, arms and legs forming an x-shape where he’s spread out like a human sacrifice at the altar. His whole body is a gorgeous work of art. Not only because of the tattoos adorning his skin that is beautifully flushed from his face down to his chest.

His pinched nipples are bright pink from the clamps biting harshly into the sensitive buds.

The picture is perfected by the sight of Eddie’s hard cock straining against his stomach, so desperate to be touched.

Not yet, though. Eddie is Steve’s to play with for a little while longer, is his to be used. And he will drag this out for as long as he can, won’t give Eddie the satisfaction of relief until he is satisfied with his own work.

Steve reaches over to the sideboard, grabs the Wartenberg wheel that’s been waiting there patiently to come into action.

Eddie is a sucker for sensation play. He is so sensitive, reacts so wonderfully to any prickling, stinging, thudding feeling afflicted on his body. Whether it’s with the light, tickling touch of a feather or the quick, sharp burn of hot wax drizzling over his body; he’s so easy to please.

Steve starts on his left, presses the pinwheel against his skin, and lets it roll from his shackled ankle up over his calf. Eddie squirms and whines furiously when the prickling sensation reaches the back of his knee and not for the first time, Steve is glad not to be on the receiving end of things. Eddie’s trembling and twisting gets worse, the further Steve rolls the wheel up the inside of his thigh, playing with the degree of pressure he uses to prick Eddie’s sensitive skin.

He repeats the procedure on Eddie’s right, watches his skin break out in goose bumps while his cock twitches hard at the overwhelming sensation that’s crossing the line between slight discomfort and actual pain - just what Eddie wants.

Eddie gives up on trying to get away, finally accepting that he’s going nowhere. He’s entirely at Steve’s mercy, who keeps going, ruthlessly dragging the pinwheel across the underside of his arms and down his sides, spurred on by Eddie’s pathetic moans.

“Please, Sir! ‘S too much!” He begs as if that could convince Steve to end his teasing torture.

Eddie knows what to do if he wants him to stop. And Steve knows what Eddie can take.

He always gets so whiny when Steve treats him right. He’s a dream to play with. So easily breakable, so willing to give up control and let Steve take him apart in whichever way he pleases.

So beautiful when he slowly loses his mind, pushed closer and closer to the edge until he’s free falling.

The only problem is that Steve has a hard time not to lose himself.

#sub eddie week #eddie munson #sub eddie munson #steve harrington #pro dom steve harrington #steddie fic #ao3

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sparkbeast20 · 1 year

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Tattoo for me

MC: I want to get a tattoo. And I want some design idea with all seven with you in mind.

Asmo: AAAAHHH!!! I would love to help you~

Levi: *Quickly pulls his graphic tablet* I'm ready!

MC: Okay, I need it right here- *You turn around and lift your shirt and point your lower back right above your ass* a tramp stamp.

The brothers: !?!?

MC: What?

Mammon: What the fuck is this! *Poke the part of your back between your shoulder blade* When did you get this!

MC: What-

Beel: MC. You have a tattoo on your back already.

MC: Oh! I was drunk-

Lucifer: I can see an open book on a patch of grass with a white feather quill in the book, next to a teacup which has a design of a black and red dragon... Wait a minute!

MC: ...

MC: Man I was drunk that day.

Satan: Was- Did they help you design it?

MC: Don't remember. All I recall on Diavolo and Simeon arguing about something while Barbatos was readying the table and Solomon making a needle gun.

Belphie: So... Solomon gave you the tattoo?

MC: I think it was Barbatos because Solomon was trying to make his book bigger. I pass out since I was scared shitless when I saw the needle gun

#obey me #omswd #obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me mc #obey me minific

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streamingcolors-gvf · 1 year

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Skin Deep - Part 2

Moodboard created by @jakekiszkasleftnutsack

Shout out to @kiszkasun for providing tattoo edits of the boys 🖤

@pennylanefics for the beautiful tatt!jake moodboard that sparked the idea.

Pairing: Josh Kiszka x f!reader x Jake Kiszka

Warnings: cursing, sexually explicit content - MINORS DNI!! (Oral m!receiving, fingering, hand stuff - m!recieving, dirty talk, praise kink, spit kink, super light choking if you squint, biting)

A/N: This has become a twin series (smut with both of them for those unaware, so if this isn’t your thing, keep scrolling) , and I found that I had to break up some of the chapters due to the size of the fic. So I don’t want Jake girlies coming after me. There will be plenty of Jake interactions coming up. I PROMISE. Feedback and your support is always appreciated. Hope y’all enjoy this installment 🖤

Thank you @asparrowofthedawn for all the Pinterest diving, daily support and inspo for this fic. It doesn’t go unappreciated. Also a thank you to @capturethechaos for letting me bug them with my rambling thoughts and updates on this story.

Masterpost, Part 1

The first thing you realize when you pry your eyelids apart, is that you’re not in your bedroom. The luxury cotton blend of high-thread count sheets brushing up against your cheek aren’t the ones fitted across your mattress. The mustard-yellow painted wall isn’t one you recognize, and the soft light filtering in through the windows doesn’t happen at home. You blink away your blurred vision until it comes into focus, finally seeing the vintage movie posters decorating the room.

As you’re slowly dragged into consciousness, you hear the faint sounds of snoring beside you. It startles you at first, making you turn abruptly to prop yourself up on your elbow. You realize it’s Josh facing away from you, laying across his stomach. He’s still sleeping soundly, face hidden and tucked away into the crook of his elbow.

The memories of the night prior flood your mind, and the shock of what transpired runs through your body, making you huff out a breath of disbelief. Reeling from it, you take the moment of peace to look around his room, something that felt rather intimate despite everything that has already happened between you.

A wooden artist desk sits in the corner, locked in an upright position with sheets of toned paper taped to its surface. On the shelves above it, metal tins sit filled with a collection of pens, paintbrushes and markers. A large tapestry is tacked to the wall on the far side. Exotic potted plants are scattered around the room, resting on shelves, onto the floor and even hanging from the ceiling — giving the space a sense of life.

Soon, your eyes find Josh again. The blanket is draped across his waist, giving you the view of his bare back for the first time. Most of Josh’s body is touched by ink, but the expansive piece captures your attention as he takes in the steady breaths of slumber. Starting in the center of his spine, the floral mandala spreads out into two massive lotus flowers on each shoulder blade. You reach out, tracing his warm skin with a feather-light touch of your fingers along the bold linework of each petal. It’s ambitious, still unfinished with only a fraction of the design filled with the rich, vibrant colors.

Pitched hums vibrate in his chest as he starts to stir when your fingertips travel between his shoulders and up to where the tattoo ends at the nape of his neck. You quickly retreat your hand to your chest when he stretches and rotates onto his back. A heavy sigh leaves him, and for a second you think he might be awake, but the way his mouth parts with a hushed snore tells you otherwise.

His tousled curls have lost their shape, falling over his brow with his head buried into the pillow. Long lashes kiss the high point of his cheeks that have been painted pink with the spring sun.

You have never been in denial about how attractive you found him. Now, as you look upon him in his purest and most vulnerable form, you can truly appreciate his beauty. Even to the tiny scar beside his mouth or the one nicked below his left brow — tiny imperfections that tell a story for a moment in time.

Maybe you’re still riding on the wave of impulsivity that led you to this predicament in the first place when you lean into him. The kiss you place below his ear is what makes his arm slip around your back to pull you in tighter. The tip of your nose brushes against the crushed-velvet of his buzzed hair, ticking you in the process. A sleep laden groan rumbles in his throat, vibrating against your lips while you explore the sharp line of his jaw. The late morning light peeking through the blinds catches the wet marks you’re leaving across the tattoos covering his neck. You let the tip of your tongue follow the lines of the petals, breathing him in as if you could smell the sweet scent of the inked peonies. The feeling of your mouth brings him a step closer to consciousness, eliciting a heavy sigh from his chest.

Nuzzling into the crook of his neck, you trail your hand down his bare, tattooed chest, passing over your fingers over the sparrows and bed of poppies. The muscles of his stomach quiver from your sensual touch, making his hips shift against the mattress. You’re expecting the waistband of at least a pair of underwear, but instead, you feel the trimmed patch of hair when you slip your fingers beneath the blanket.

He’s warm and soft cupped in your hand. You’re gentle with your touch, keeping him safe as you guide him into a state of wakefulness. A shudder rolls through him with a moan that cracks through the thick air settling in his bedroom. His fingertips press into your side, and you feel him harden in your palm with every steady beat of his heart.

You notice the lustful scent of sex still lingering on him as you place another heady kiss to his collarbone, quickly giving into the urge to bite along the thin, delicate skin. His hand slides up your back and through your hair, wrapping around the nape of your neck, and gives it a firm squeeze with his fingers as your teeth graze across him.

His back arches up from the bed once your tongue creates a path down to his nipple, following it with a louder groan when you flick across it.

“Morning.” The dreamy crackle of this voice delivered to you in a heavy sigh makes your elbows weak as you crawl down his body. Your eyes flick up to see him squinting through barely-open lids right before he rubs the sleep from his lashes with the heel of his palm.

You blow a stream of cool air through pursed lips, watching it harden instantly. A breathy whine falls from his open mouth as he writhes beneath you, bucking his hips to drive himself through your hand in an act of impatience. He’s no longer dormant, twitching in the loose grasp of your fingers as he stiffens with each passing second.

“Good morning,” you hum through your open-kisses down his sternum. You nip at the soft flesh of his belly below his navel with a deliberate pump of your fist over his length.

Within the short amount of time spent with him, you are starting to think nothing about this man could surprise you. However, you’re proven wrong when you pull the duvet away from his stomach and discover something peculiar that catches your eye, making you pause the movement of your hand. The permanent illustration you find yourself studying for longer than you’d admit, is a pair of cherries placed a few inches from the base of him — a hidden treasure below his waist, tucked between the divot of his hip and where you were about to place your lips. Two green leaves sprout from the stem, and its vivid shade of red shines in the illustrator’s choice to dip them in a glaze of sticky syrup that runs down the round edge of the fruit in three seductive drips. A banner ribbon wraps around the middle of them, taunting you with the words ‘Bite Me’ in bold font.

You huff a laugh of shock as your fingers feel over the smooth skin. “This has got to be the sluttiest thing about you.”

He’s peering down at you through drowsy lids, his arm now bent behind his head with a smug grin plastered across his stupidly handsome face. He draws in his bottom lip between his teeth before he asks in a raspy tone that makes your chest tighten, “You like it?”

My god, you do.

You’re not willing to reveal your hand to him just yet, so you deflect with a question of your own. “Who gave you this?”

Laughter suddenly breaks free into the quiet room, the sound throaty and heavy when it hits your ears. “I don’t kiss and tell, baby.”

You allow your mind to wander with the thoughts of him getting it, picturing how he might’ve been in a similar position to the one you were in last night. You imagine how he looked with the band of his pants pulled down just enough as the strokes of the needle made contact with the sensitive skin. Something about this tattoo in particular has a feminine touch, and you can’t help the pang of slight jealousy hitting your chest and curiosity from entering your mind.

Even though your weak attempt at a bluff is starting to crumble, you stay vigilant with a purposeful click of your tongue. “Pity.”

Before he’s able to respond with a witty remark, you roll your tongue across the tattoo as if there really was sweet juice from the cherries that could wet your taste buds. An almost feline-like purr rumbles in his throat as you lick your way to the other side. His fingers brush your hand that you’ve draped across his stomach before reaching up to touch your hair.

You suck at the tender skin while slowly stroking him. The lapping of your tongue and nipping of your teeth, paired with the deliciously slow flick of your wrist, causes his fingers to leave you.

A whispered curse flutters from his lips, but your eyes remain closed while you keep your mouth sealed around him. A sharp hiss through his teeth transforms into a moan of pleasure as the familiar blushed splotches of your own cherry-sized love-mark form on the surface.

“Something to remember me by,” you whisper in admiration as you catch your breath and wipe the string of saliva from your lip.

A sighed hum breaks into giggles. “I don’t think I’m ever forgetting you.”

The thought makes you blush and a wave of heat rises from your belly to your chest, but you decide that exploring the new influx of feelings he has created for you would have to wait another time.

“So, being the better-looking twin, I have the nicer dick, ri- oh…” He trails off, falling into a sort-of trance from your casting spell, staring at the bead of spit dribble from your bottom lip. It falls onto the pretty pink head – a lovely shade that matches the one of his lips —and starts to drip down before you swipe it across with your thumb.

Now slick from your mouth, you slide your hand around his length with a rolling twist of your wrist. A violent shudder rolls through him as the mumbled praise leaves his mouth, “Fuck…that’s so good. Just like that.”

You tease him like this through a few deliberate strokes until you decide to bring your lips to him. A devilish grin curls at the upturned corners of his lips with brazen confidence brimming through each word. “You gonna suck my cock, baby?”

You flash him a coy smile, but otherwise stay silent to let your actions do the talking for you. He watches your every move, but can barely contain the broken whimper within his clamped mouth when you finally lick that blissful spot beneath the tip. You’re making sure to keep your eyes locked on him as you push him inch-by-inch along your flattened tongue. It’s obvious he’s fighting the temptation to close them, but the way his dark brows pull together and how his mouth parts through panting breaths tells you everything you need to know.

Just when he expects you to stop, you don’t. Instead, you keep nudging him farther and farther until he hits the back of your throat and the tip of your nose brushes ever-so-slightly against the trimmed hair.

You have to suppress the gag threatening to creep up with deep breaths while allowing your eyes to finally close. He’s pressing himself past the point of your limit, throbbing desperately in the wet warmth of your mouth. You pause for a few moments, letting him soak in the consuming feeling of his cock nestled as deep as it can go. Lifting your head from him, you lick up the streams of drool that have leaked past your lips, cleaning him in a less-than-subtle act of depravity. He takes in the sight of your little show, groaning through clenched teeth, “Holy shit. That feels fucking amazing.”

Your thighs clench in an aching need from the sound of his deeper voice. You swirl your tongue around the head in a changing pattern of circles, tasting him as if he’s a lollipop that shares the same sugary-sweet flavor of those cherries. He sucks in a sharp breath, and a praise hits your ears through a strangled moan, “Yes…yes, baby, oh my god!”

A glance up through your lashes gives you the chance to see him throwing his hands back into the flattened mess of curls buried into the pillow. You stare, fixating on the way the muscles in his arms flex and how his chest rises and falls rapidly from ragged breaths. Something catches your eye, and you realize it’s the light reflecting off the tiny metal ball of his tongue ring swiping across his lip. His eyelids are clamping hard enough to form a small crease between his brows as his open mouth creates a perfect “O” shape. “Oh god…”

The rhythmic bobbing of your head is sloppy, and the borderline-pornographic sounds echoing around the walls of his room would have been more-than shameful to anyone else but the two of you. You find that you have to wrap your hand around what your mouth can’t quite reach, just like you had done with Jake the night before. A ragged cry catches in the back of his throat, but he quickly clears the noise with a forceful grunt, “Fucking…Christ!”

You know he’s teetering on the very edge by the way his stomach muscles are flexing from the rapid build of his orgasm. The slippery pop! of him from your lips yanks his focus back to you in a heartbeat, and the lust-drunken daze swirling in his blown-out pupils makes you giggle for a moment. Although, his eyes don’t stay locked on you for more than a few seconds as they flit behind heavy lids while you continue to pump a tight fist around him.

The delightful squeeze of your fingers around the swollen tip with each upward stroke of your wrist is dancing the line of pleasure and torture for him. He doesn’t dare complain, but the agonizing pace you're choosing causes a sheen of sweat to form on his bare chest that’s now heaving up and down like broken bellows.

He taps your arm in a panic to signal defeat, accepting the complete loss of control. His strained voice is breathless, cracking through tightened vocal cords across a dry tongue, “I can’t…I-I’m gonna cum, baby.”

Not wanting to waste another second, you take him back into the silken feeling of your mouth, enveloping him in its addicting warmth. The way his cock twitches, hardening past the point you thought was physically possible, reveals that his words are nothing but the truth. You’re determined to drive him as deep as he can go with a purposeful flick of your tongue along the base. It doesn’t take longer than a few seconds for his shaky fingers to wrap around your wrist as he succumbs to the tidal wave of his release. If there was any doubt whether his brother could hear you both before, it’s gone now with Josh crying out his mantra of profanities. With a faltering lift of his hips, the heat of his come hits the back of your throat with a force you don’t expect, making it spasm through every swallow. You drink every last drop of him down without question until he’s on the brink of overstimulation.

You pepper kisses the raised point of his hip as he comes down from his euphoric high. The whimpered exhales bubble into giggles as he wipes the hair back from his sweaty brow. He props himself up on an elbow, and looks down at you with that grin plastered across his flushed face.

He huffs an exaggerated breath, “Okay, I’m a little upset Jake experienced that first.”

You roll your eyes in feigned disapproval, “You can’t be serious.”

“C’mere.” He reaches forward to grab your wrist, guiding you onto his lap as he starts to sit up on the bed. You’re both careful in your movements with the fresh tattoo on your leg.

Despite the soreness of your thigh, you settle into the position with a natural ease, taking his face into your cupped palms. The apples of his cheeks are blushing a rosy hue, radiating with a unique glow that could only come from a post-sex haze. Something else grabs your attention when he yawns, and for a second you doubt yourself. You know it's not your mind playing tricks when he wipes his fingers across his mouth, and you’re able to see it for the second time. Acting out of pure impulse, you grasp his bottom lip between your thumb and finger to get a better look.

There it is.

A badly faded tattoo inked into the pink flesh of his inner lip. You think you’re mistaken at first, so you blink a few times and squint to make sure you’re reading the letters correctly. Despite the arguably poor line work, you can still make out the bold lettering ‘PU$$Y”.

“You’ve got to be fucking joking,” you scoff in disbelief, but before you can release his lip, he pretends to bite at your fingers until you swat him away.

His hands are roaming freely over your ass and up your back when pouts out the lip in question. “What? You don’t like that one?”

“I think I stand corrected. That is probably the sluttiest thing about you.” Snorting a laugh, you rub the muscles of his shoulders until your arms cross behind his neck.

He sighs at the satisfying feeling of your nails lightly scratching his scalp. “I was actually looking to get it removed here soon.” His eyes flutter closed as he cranes his neck back, similar to a cat leaning into a hand to be petted. “I can’t say it's my proudest moment.”

Withdrawing your hands from his hair, you ask out of curiosity, “So what’s the story behind this one?”

You swear you see embarrassment flash across his features from how he chews at his lip. “Ah well, besides being nineteen, alone with a bottle of tequila and access to a tattoo machine? I’m afraid there’s not much more to the tale than that.”

You would’ve laughed if it wasn’t for the barely-detectable shift in his mood, and guilt starts to stir in your gut from fear that you’ve struck a nerve with the topic. You brush your fingertips across his slightly-downturned mouth, asking in a hushed voice, “You did it yourself?”

He hums his answer, smiling from your affectionate touch, but his eyes remain focused on his hands that are busy caressing up your sides. Maybe he’s distracting himself, or even you, when he cups your breasts, giving them a playful squeeze in the palms.

You whine at the feeling, and squirm in his lap as you stroke the trimmed hair of his mustache with your index finger, humming in thought. “Ya’know, I think you should shave this.”

He chuckles, sending the warm, airy laughter across your chest. “Why? Don’t like that either?”

“No! No, I do,” you insist in a too-loud voice, and the kiss placed on your collarbone nearly made the next thought disintegrate on your tongue. “But I also think it’s a shame to cover up your beautiful lips. A clean-shaven look would suit you.”

“Hmmm. I might have to consider that.” He draws the tip of his nose up the column of your extended throat, breathing you in through a deep inhale. “Might make up for the shitty lip tattoo.”

You’re putty in his hands, forgetting where you are, or even what day it is when he kisses up your neck as he roams across the contour of your ass and between your legs. You groan in response, “Maybe there’s nothing wrong with stating your favorite meal.”

His response to your sentiment is a heavy breath that verges on the edge of a growl hitting your throat. His hands quickly find their place around your waist to rock you forward enough to feel his cock twitch and harden beneath you, making you giggle in shock, “Already?”

He scoffs, pulling away just far enough to give you a view of his face, “I'm sorry. I wasn’t aware that your expectations of me included not getting hard when you sit naked on my dick.”

That look he’s giving you. The same one you saw the first day you met him. It’s the one that could sell you on anything he desired.

You only roll your eyes in response before glancing at the nightstand in search of your phone. “What time is it?”

“Hmm… I dunno. But for some reason I don’t care,” he sighs with an unbothered lilt in his voice, and tries to bring you in for a kiss, but you pull away before his lips touch yours.

He rips his head away, brows raised at you in disbelief, huffing a sharp puff of air through his nose. “I’m offended.”

“Well, I’m sorry to offend, but I really have to brush my teeth, and I’m in desperate need of a shower.”

“Alright, alright. I’ll let it slip just this once because that’s not a bad idea. I’m sure there’s a pack of toothbrushes in the bathroom somewhere.” A mischievous grin forms on his face.“ And I’m never one to turn down a shower with a beautiful woman.”

You slide off his lap and off the edge of the bed, and throw a quip over your shoulder, “Who says you’re joining?”

The sharp smack of his hand to your ass elicits a high-pitched squeak from your throat while sending you forward in the direction of his door. You pad across the wooden floor — barefoot and naked — to exit his bedroom and walk into the hall. Not remembering much from the night before, the layout of their house is foreign to you. There is a closed door across from Josh’s, which you’re quick to remember is Jake’s, but as you turn left to wander in search for the bathroom, you see an open door.

You flip on the switch, and take in the sight when your eyes adjust to the new lighting. You were in here at one point in the night, but the little details of the space were the last thing on your mind given the circumstances. Now, in the light of day and a clearer conscience, you’re able to absorb everything more clearly.

To your left is a modern style black vanity with two white, porcelain basins resting on its surface. Across from you is a massive walk-in shower encased in glass walls. Golden bathroom fixtures contrast the almost-black, gray hexagonal tile work that lines the inside of the shower.

You slowly venture in, feeling the cool tile beneath your bare feet as you make your way to the large mirror. You’re startled by your reflection, scanning over the vast collection of hickies and love marks that are scattered across your skin in an array of shapes, sizes and colors. Spreading the bruised flesh with your fingertips to gauge the damage, you can’t even begin to map out which ones are left by Josh and where Jake’s begin.

Josh enters the bathroom a few seconds later, and your eyes are instantly drawn to his image in the mirror. He’s clearly comfortable with his own nakedness, shuffling behind you, still-half hard as he rummages around the drawer in search of the spare toothbrush. You turn away, blushing awkwardly at the sight, even though you just had him in your mouth minutes ago. Something about the action felt rather domestic for only knowing him for such a short amount of time.

He offers a basic, standard-issue toothbrush he pulled from the torn plastic packaging. Plucking it from his fingers, you let the sarcastic comment slip, “A stash of toothbrushes for all your guests?”

Your criticism comes out harsher than you intend, causing him to take a step back in order to look you over. He tilts his head, showing the genuine confusion pulling his brows together. He takes a few seconds to process your words until a special glint shines in his amber-colored eyes. “Am I hearing a hint of jealousy on your tongue?”

Was it?

Your mouth falls open to reply, but before you can utter a single word, he takes a step forward with open arms, interrupting your thoughts. “Here, let me take care of that for you.”

He takes your face, holding it between his hands to plant a kiss directly on your mouth, but you fight back by wriggling away, working to dodge the attempts to lock lips. You throw your head back, squealing in protest, “Josh!”

Giggles burst through his chest as he tries shushing you, “Shhh…I think a kiss will make it all better.” His lips connect with your cheek, causing his words to mumble into the flesh, “I’ve been so so good. I think I deserve it, baby.”

With his hands weaving into your hair at the nape of your neck, you groan from the temptation, but stay steadfast in your choice to wait, huffing through a dry laugh, “I literally just had your cum in my mouth. Let me brush first.”

He nips at the apple of your cheek, savoring its sweetness with a teasing lick. “I love when you talk dirty to me.” Pulling away a few inches, he gives himself enough space for his eyes to drift down to your lips. With his naked body wrapping around yours, you’re able to feel the warmth of him pressing into your hip. “Also bold of you to assume I don’t enjoy that sort of thing.”

You hide the blush creeping up to your face with a playful shove to his chest and laughter loud enough to wake up Jake, “Oh my god! You’re fucking gross.”

Josh flashes a cheeky grin as he releases you. “Yeah, well, I think you secretly like that about me.”

“Bold of you to assume that I like you at all. I could be in it just for the perks.” He gives you the side eye as takes an electric toothbrush from its charging dock on the counter — one that's white and sleek in design. Although, the only response he gives you is a bout of throaty laughter while he swipes a line of toothpaste across the bristles before handing the tube over.

He pops it into his mouth, mumbling around the brush stuck in the side of his cheek, “You have a funny way of showing your indifference.” The comment is sealed with a wink, and he turns away from you toward the shower.

You copy his actions, brushing your teeth while watching him pull a stack of bath towels out from the cabinet. He breaks away to spit into the other basin before turning on the water inside the shower. It takes incredible effort for you not to giggle at the lovely view of his little butt jiggling as he moves around the bathroom.

After placing the toothbrush back into its designated spot, he hops into the shower while you’re preoccupied with rinsing. You finish up, pull open the door to see his back facing you as he stands under the far-side showerhead. “Without me? Now I’m offended.”

His laughter bounces around the slate-toned tile, “I was getting cold, and things shrivel, okay?” He looks over his shoulder, squinting from the water rolling over his face. “Can't let you see me in such a vulnerable state.”

You walk into the soothing heat of the water, making your way over to him. Slipping your arms around his waist, and using a particularly flirty voice, you tease into his exposed ear, “Oh no. We can’t dent that giant ego of yours, can we?”

He hums, sending the thrumming sound into your chest, and takes your hand in his. He pulls it across his cock, making you feel the weight and size of him stiffening along your fingers. “You think my ego is dented, baby?”

He turns within your embrace to face you, and without another second of hesitation, crashes his lips into yours. He’s quick to lick into your mouth, making you realize that waiting the few extra minutes to kiss you has created an insatiable hunger within him. You find yourself chasing the cool metal of his jewelry as his tongue dances across yours — its existence acting as an ill-kept secret he chooses to reveal in the most opportune moments.

You could kiss him for hours, exploring each other under the falling water and rising steam of the shower. You’re not even sure how much time has passed when the sound of knuckles rapping against the glass startles you from the daydream, making both of you turn your heads to find the source.

The fogged door to the shower opens, and he instantly grumbles in frustration, “Are you fucking kidding me? We’re having a moment here, dude.”

You peer over your shoulder to see Jake stepping in completely nude. Unbothered by Josh’s annoyance, he chuckles, “And let you two hog all the hot water? I don’t think so.”

Josh releases his arms around you, albeit reluctantly, so you can turn around to face his brother. You watch as he stands under the opposite shower-head, tipping his head back to let the spray wet his long hair. The water running over their tattooed skin resembles an artist’s coating of glossy varnish brushed across an oil painting. Whereas the vibrant colors on Josh’s body are deeply saturated, popping in vibrancy against the golden-tone of his skin, Jake’s black and gray work has the appearance as though the art has been dipped in fresh ink.

You’re staring.

You know you are, but you can’t stop your wandering eyes from exploring the details of his naked body in front of you if your life depended on it. You can see the silver hoops of his ears now that his soaked hair clings to his neck and shoulders. Rivers of hot water have been created, flowing down the contours of his chest, pouring down his torso like a waterfall. It carries your eyes down past his navel and between his legs, causing the bubbling feeling to rise inside you.

Aside from the obvious distraction that’s leaving you bashful, you’re able to admire the unveiled tattoos on his thighs now that they are bare and in your view. His right showcases the portrait of a beautiful mermaid, graced with cascading waves of floating hair, supple, perked breasts that are wrapped in a blanket of fanned fins. The left reveals a more violent scene, depicting a massive, brooding pirate ship that’s split in two by the Kraken, pulled into the depths of the ocean. The sea creature’s long tentacles swirl around in different directions, wrapping around the lean muscles of his upper leg.

Jake rolls his head forward, causing the water to run down the sharp planes of his face, coaxing you with an open hand. You take his fingers without question, letting him tug you forward in such a swift movement that your chest collides with his. He chuckles, then speaks in his lowest voice against your cheek, one that’s still loud enough for you to hear over the running water, “I was a little sad to see that my little dove had flown to another bed this morning.”

Josh’s hand, now slick with soap, slips down the center of your spine when he throws a prodding remark over your shoulder to his twin, “I think it’s quite obvious that I’m clearly her favorite.”

Jake hums in disappointment, and pulls away to look at you with a raised brow., “Is that true?”

Not only are you put on the spot with the question, but Josh is making it nearly impossible for you to concentrate with his hands lathering soap across your back in massaging circles.

Jake clicks his tongue as he watches his own hand snake up your throat, making you suck in a sharp breath as his fingers press into the pulse point. Beads of water ricochet off his face and onto yours when he breathes across your parted mouth, “I’m curious as to why I didn’t hear you this morning.”

His wet lips ghost across your jaw until they eventually touch your ear, taunting you with a satisfying purr, “Because if you were my bed, I would have fucked you until you were screaming my name for him to hear.”

Confident in how he’s left you speechless, he suddenly breaks his hold on you to reach for the bottle of shampoo sitting on the shower ledge, gifting you with a knowing smirk as he does so. As you stand here in shock, he’s more than aware that he’s teasing you with the mundane action, making sure to take his time squirting the soap into the palm of his hand and massaging it into his scalp as if you aren’t standing right in front of him.

You extend your open hand until it touches his silken chest, feeling his relaxed breathing beneath your palm. Jake’s eyes remain closed as his head stays tipped back, but you still catch the harsh swallow in his throat in response. Your fingertips follow the flow of the water until his stomach shudders from you tickling across his navel. While his expressionless face keeps up the act of nonchalance, the twitch and bounce of his hardening cock gives him away.

Meanwhile, Josh’s hands have slipped around your hips and up the front of your body. Fingers splay out, gliding across the soap foam to feel across the delicate softness of your belly. He eliminates the inches of distance, hooking his chin over your shoulder to bring you together so his chest connects with your back. His left hand floats across the rich lather he’s created, cupping your breast with a firm squeeze, while the right slides its way up your sternum to wrap around your throat.

The gasp you release evolves into a deep moan from the feeling of his fingers pressing into you just as Jake had done moments before — yet it’s seemingly different. There’s a certain neediness to Josh’s touch around the vulnerable spot, as if worshiping you every moment he was given, forgoing any sense of possessiveness his brother might have.

The high-pressure of the running water massages across your back from his side’s shower head, bouncing off naked skin to cover the shower door like a wall of rain. You watch the heavy droplets trickle down, merging together along the pane of glass until the sharp sensation of Josh’s teeth dragging across your shoulder yanks your focus away.

Your hips roll against him, grinding against his erection that’s been pressing into your ass for the last few minutes. He hums in approval, tightening his hold around your body that much more. You melt into the embrace, as if the hot steam billowing up from the floor has fused you to him. The diluted suds of Jake’s shampoo are starting to run down in waves over his body as he rinses his hair. You trace a solitary index finger from the base, along his growing length, and to the tip of his cock, causing a smirk to break through his stoic face.

You jump on the chance to tease him in this fleeting lapse of his control by loosely wrapping your fingers around him. The temperature of the water doesn’t mask your ability to feel his warmth as he hardens in your grasp. You study the way he slowly licks across his lips, how his breathing begins to deepen when you start to stroke him — mesmerized watching the artwork decorating his chest as it shifts with the ever-moving canvas of his skin.

A low groan rumbles within him, loud enough that the sound echoes within the shower walls, and his head falls forward suddenly like a loosened hinge. He has to brace himself by placing an open hand to the shower wall, but hasn’t opened his eyes to look at you just yet. The washed hair that he has slicked to the back of his head has fallen free in long tendrils, framing his face. With the water no longer flowing down his back, it pours from those ends of his hair, the very tip of his nose, the pouted edge of his parted bottom lip and his chin.

You watch as his dark, defined brows shift as the speed and technique of your hand changes, going from a raised to furrowed state, and back again. Slick with leftover soap, you slip your other hand between his legs to cup the rest of him in the safety of your palm. The careful rub of gentle fingers along the hot skin as you continue stroking him causes a stifled moan to escape his open mouth.

He huffs a breathy laugh, shining a devilishly handsome smile while looking up through soaked lashes. “You’re fucking trouble.”

The combination of Jake’s wet cock pulsing wildly in your hand while Josh’s ruts into the small of your back sends a primal need straight to your core. You clench around nothing — only the memory of them between your legs hours ago. As if Josh can feel the impatience coursing through you, his hand leaves its place around your throat, and trails back down through the valley of your breasts, roaming over your curves until he dips between your shaking legs.

His slender, tattooed fingers part you while sighing into your ear, sending the hummed sound over the folds of your brain, “Fuck, baby. She’s already so swollen and hard for me.” He pauses to bite at your earlobe, rolling his tongue ring over as he sucks it into his mouth before praising, “Pretty little thing.” Another heavy breath rolls into a purr against you, “A greedy one, isn’t she?”

He graces you with an artist’s touch, drawing the pad of his middle finger across your clit in a changing pattern of shapes. You don’t even fight when he attaches his lips to the side of your neck, allowing him to add to the collection of marks he and his brother have left on you.

Your vision is blurred by steam, hot water, and the blooming cloud of lust circling in your head, but you’re able to see Jake reaching out with his free hand to grasp your chin between his thumb and fingers, guiding himself to you. He kisses you, capturing your wet lips with his own. The heat of his mouth is addicting, a stark contrast from the water that’s already started to chill on your skin. Yet, despite the soothing heat of his tongue, you can taste the mint flavor from his toothpaste lingering in his mouth.

He sends a moan over your tongue, rolling his hips to chase the friction of your hand pumping around his cock. You do the same, as you’re becoming increasingly more distracted by Josh playing with your clit.

The sensation of his hot tongue running across your cool, wet skin along your shoulder makes your knees buckle beneath your weight, but thankfully Josh’s hand wrapped underneath your breast keeps you upright. With your head resting on his shoulder, he speaks softly with a crooning voice against your cheek, “Is it getting difficult, baby?” You would respond with something witty, but the thought disappears somewhere in the fog swirling your mind. “Hard for you to think while I’m fucking you with my fingers, huh?

The digits curl with precision, pressing against the special spot hidden inside you, working you while the heel of his palm rubs against your clit. Your eyes clamp shut, and the movements of your hand on Jake begin to stagger in rhythm. An internal battle is waging within your body, fighting the decision whether to stiffen or relax in Josh’s arms. His voice is so low and deep it almost dissipates into beading water hitting the tile. “They feel good?”

You can only nod your pitiful answer with your face pressing up against his cheek. With a broad lick of his tongue across it, he teases with confidence dripping in his voice. “Sure seems like it with how your pussy’s swallowing them up.” He presses his fingers against the spot with more force, pairing the action with a nip to your ear. “Almost more than you gagging on my cock this morning.”

A groan tears through your chest and you tighten your fist around Jake, making him stumble forward when your fingertips squeeze around the head. He takes a second to compose himself before giving away that he’s heard his brother by asking him, “Felt fucking amazing, right?”

You might die in embarrassment at the idea of them bonding over your oral skills as if it isn’t for the fact that you’re stuck between them. It should be shameful with how greedy you are, wanting both of them to fill you up for the third time in twenty-four hours. You’re feeling the repercussions, the soreness of your muscles, the lack of proper sleep throughout the night, and most importantly — the dull aching between your thighs. You can’t force yourself to care in the slightest.

You feel the teeth of Josh’s grin drag across the nape of your neck as he grinds himself against your ass. “I’d say the best I’ve ever had.”

You’re getting closer to your peak, climbing faster than you could have anticipated. The blanketing heat of your impending orgasm floods between your legs, making the movement of your hand on Jake slow to a stop. You’re lost in the high of lust flowing in your veins, practically riding on Josh’s hand as his fingers pump inside you. You release your hand from Jake to reach back for Josh, making him withdraw his fingers and smack your swollen cunt with an open hand.

You cry out from the sting and empty feeling you’re suddenly left with, “What the fuck?!”

He hisses in your ear while his fingertip tickles across your clit, making you squirm in his hold. “You thought I was gonna reward you for that?” Jake giggles at your flustered state as he��s busy brushing his thumb across your nipple, but Josh continues, “Don’t be selfish, baby. Be a good girl and don’t take your hand off him again.”

Jake grabs your wrist in a gentle hold, guiding it to his cock — the inked skull on the back of his hand staring back at you once again. He strokes himself with your hand beneath his, showing you the exact pace and pressure he wants. “Just like that, dove.”

His fingers run along your arm, holding it loosely to brace himself as you work your hand around him once again. He’s watching with every ounce of focus he possesses, and his brows are sewn so tightly together it almost looks as if he’s in pain, grimacing through the ragged panting from his lungs. “Fuck, that’s feels good.”

Josh’s fingers find their place buried deep inside you, picking up exactly where he left off. The soap he used is acting like a lube against your backside, allowing him to glide himself in eager thrusts against your ass.

Jake tightens his grasp around your arm, stammering out through a pitchy moan thats unfamiliar to you, “I’m..I’m gonna-“

Even through the mess of wet, soap-slicked bodies, all three of you work in unison to find a collective release. Josh is determined to make you finish first, throwing you off the edge into the unforgiving sea of your orgasm. You drench his fingers in your arousal, riding through each undulating wave on his hand. Through the height of your ecstacy, you’ve been pumping your hand faster on Jake, feeling his cock harden and pulse in preparation. Josh retreats his hand from between your legs to grab your hip, pressing the tiny indents into the flesh. Jake loses control and unravels before you, grunting through a final squeeze of your fingers across the head of his cock. He drives himself back into your hand, shooting his cum into your stomach, rewarding you with its heat before it washes away down your body.

Josh is only seconds behind, jerking himself with frenzied pumps as his other hand digs into your side. His knuckles hit your skin with each pass, giving away just how desperate he is at this moment. A string of hushed curses through strained panting flutters across your back as he paints you. You arch into the feeling, connecting the back of your head to his brow. No one dares to move for a minute, locked in a trance as the streams of water fall around you. Josh swipes his fingers through the cum he’s left across your asscheek, admiring his work before it's lost forever.

Jake is the one to break the silence once he finds a clearer state of consciousness, “Josh?”

Straightening himself from his crouched position against you, he responds with a cracked voice, “Yeah?”

Jake shifts his weight on his legs, and reaches for the bottle of conditioner on the ledge. “Weren’t you supposed to open the shop this morning?”

“Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck. Fuck!” Josh curses loudly and stumbles away from you in a panic, nearly slipping on the tile before grabbing the shower door handle. He whips his head back to look at you, revealing the new guilt and stress masking over his features. He leans in and places a chaste kiss to your lips before apologizing, “I’m so fucking sorry I gotta run, baby. Talk later?”

“S-sure,” you mumble against his lips, clearly still trapped in this daze. He kisses you again, giving into the urge to lick across your bottom lip.

Before you can convince him to forget all his responsibilities again, Jake scolds him with a forceful shove to his chest to break the two of you apart, “Go, you fucking idiot!”

Josh doesn’t even argue, and stumbles out of the shower, causing a rush of cold air to sting your bare flesh. Jake rushes to close it and take you into his arms without his brother’s presence stopping him. The view through the glass is obstructed with steam, but you can hear Josh fumbling in the bathroom for a minute, then the sounds of his feet hitting the wood floor when he runs into his bedroom.

Jake kisses you gently, peppering your jawline with the touch of his lips until they brush the shell of your ear. The sound of his voice is affectionate, even with the lingering notes of his desire, “Now let’s take care of that tattoo before I can enjoy you all to myself.”

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