#//rolls to hell he is one jerk face muse but i love him

[nebulaafterdark]

Hii can you please write something where the reader (could be Rhaenyra daughter) walks in on Aegon and something like this happens

https://www.tumblr.com/barbieaemond/746483713191362560/tom-glynn-carney-as-gaius-julius-caesar-octavianus

Love your work❤️

Thank you! Ok this is just a quick one, but here we go 🩷

A Reward

18+ ONLY MDNI (Targcest, smut, open marriage)

Y/N sets off in search of her husband after finding her apartments empty and the children well tended by their maids. She happens upon her husband in his bedchamber, sprawled across the mattress.

Aegon’s eyes snap up to meet hers, cock twitching as he does, fingers still lost in Chérie’s hair. He grins at his wife, dangerously close to spilling down the other woman’s throat. “Hello, my dearest love.”

Y/N smiles, “hello, husband.” She moves closer to the bed, smoothing a hand over Chérie’s dark waves and leaning forward to whisper, “do not stop.”

Chérie hums in acknowledgment, pulling away from Aegon’s weeping cock for only a moment to greet the princess with a gentle kiss. “Anything for you, Princess.”

Y/N sighs against her mouth. “Thank you, darling girl.”

Aegon lets out a groan as Chérie resumes. “What is it you’re doing down there? Plotting?”

Y/N makes her way up to him, cupping his face in her hands, “you will know soon enough, my love.”

Aegon’s chest rises and falls in quick succession, pulling her down to meet his kiss as he nears his peak, shooting his seed over Chérie’s tongue.

She swallows all he gives her, sucking him dry with cruel pulls of her mouth.

Aegon begins to protest.

“Shh,” Y/N coos, taking his restless hands in hers, pinning them to the pillow on either side of his head.

“I cannot again,” Aegon whimpers, “not so quickly.”

Chérie runs her tongue along the sensitive tip of his cock.

“Fuck!” He squeezes his wife’s fingers, helplessly as Chérie cups his stones, rolling them in her practiced hand.

Y/N presses a kiss to his furrowed brow, tears welling at the corner of his eyes.

“My love,” Aegon jerks in her hold.

Y/N breathes, “I want her to bring you pleasure as I watch.”

“Mayhaps in a moment,” he feels his softened cock begin to rise again.

The princess shakes her head, “now.”

“Seven hells,” he releases a panic laugh.

“I see the appeal of this now,” Y/N runs her nose along the length of his. “You are very pretty when you cry.”

“I wish you could see yourself, teary eyed on my cock. Absolutely sinful, you are. A wonder to behold.” Aegon winces as Chérie fists the base of his cock.

Y/N shifts, holding both his hands in one of hers to run greedy fingers over the expanse of his chest. Her nails graze his nipple, causing Aegon to buck against Chérie’s mouth. “I love you.”

“I love you more. I love you most, I love you always.” He babbles, chasing her lips, each time she dares pull away.

Chérie has been a guest in their bed too many a time to think herself an intruder, but in moments such as these, she is grateful for the reassuring pass of the Princess’s hand over her hair.

“Once you come undone, I will grant you reprieve as I reward our girl for indulging us.” Y/N promises her husband.

Aegon nods, blinking up at her. “You will be with child before this night ends.” A threat and a promise.

“Not much of a punishment for torturing you as I have.” Y/N muses.

“Not a punishment,” Aegon bites out, nearing the edge of bliss. “A reward.”

[dollwrites]

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!reader ( service top ), power bottom!dio, pegging, restraints, degradation, masturbation ( him ), all characters featured are aged 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading < 3

𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗸𝘁𝗼𝗯𝗲𝗿 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟯 ∣ day eighteen [ dio brando + pegging ]

you could beg him all you wished.

you could scream and cry your please, masters until your throat was raw, and you choked on the dryness of your own mouth, but he still wouldn’t give you any pleasure. he was determined to make you suffer, and suffer you were doing, exactly.

Dio elicits a soft, throaty chuckle at your pitiful whimper, and he tilts his head to one side, peering down at you. “My, my, is my little possession feeling entitled, today?”

the visage of him hunkered down over you, knees spread wide and balancing on the balls of his feet, was driving you insane. your blurry eyeline trails along the slick, rubber cock that disappears as he descends upon it with a symphony of breathy grunting accompanying the action, and you’re so envious. he takes the fake phallus akin to the way that you usually take his cock, and even from your position, flat on the bed with your arms bound to together at the wrists above your head, you could see the way the pinkish ring clenched around the toy as he fucked it.

“I love that look on your face.” Dio swoons, wrapping one mighty fist around his cock and pumping in merciless, rapid-fire strokes, while his other palm rests on one knee, and he bounces up and down on the toy strapped to your groin. “That envious look. You hate to watch me have all the fun, don’t you?” your master muses, a devious grin etching his lips over sharp, pearly fangs. “What’s the matter? Do you hate me for not letting you feel good, too? Do you want to curse your master for it?”

“N-no, master…” you whine, laying your head to the side, watching him use you, before you added in a soft, pathetic tone, “I just… am begging for you to touch me, too. Or, a-at the very least, let me touch y-you—“ your eyes glue themselves to the way he jerked himself off; you could offer a much softer, warmer grasp. hell, you would even let him spit on your hands until they were dripping, that way your grasp felt more like your drooling cunt.

Dio’s brows screwed into a distasteful scowl as he huffs, and reaches out to plant his free hand on your chest, instead. the power and weight behind the movement is enough to knock the breath from your lungs, and you croak in response, eyelids fluttering. “Do you think me so weak, little fuck slave, that you could bat your eyelashes and pout, and I would give you exactly what you wanted?” he didn’t wait for an answer, sneering, he leans closer, his hips rocking back and forth as he takes to toy to its hilt, and moans in satisfaction. “You want so badly to feel pleasure, too, but your master has no use for your sloppy hole today. I want to get fucked,” his harsh words and the disregard he holds for your own ecstasy adds fuel to the wicked eroticism of this moment— of your master using you for his own gratification. “And, if I have to tie you to the bed and strap a fake cock on you in order to get what I want, I will do so. And you will thank me, once again, for the opportunity to please me; it is a privilege not many are gifted.” his abysmal, razor like fingernails scrape at your chest, dragging along one, hardened nipple, threatening to break your skin, and you shudder. “Because you, my little piece of meat, are little more than furniture to me.”

your eyes roll back at that.

why did your pussy clench when he compared you to furniture?

had Dio Brando truly broken you to the point of getting off for him, even as he demeaned you, and reduced you to nothing of worth?

you gargle a moan, your back arching as if in hopes to drive the dildo deeper into him, but his weight crashes down on you, pinning you in place. “Master!” you cry out, tears in your eyes, as your core weeps for his attention. a flick of his finger, at the very least, underneath the leather harness. “Please! I am going mad!”

“Fuckable furniture.” the rough pad of his thumb scrapes against the slit on his broad, pink tip, before he thrusts himself into his hand, gripping and moaning, swirling his hips to feel every inch of the cock jammed inside of him. Dio throws his head back with a happy grunt. “And furniture doesn’t fucking move. Furniture doesn’t beg for attention when it is owed none. Furniture is silent and subservient, dearest fucktoy.”

[theemporium]

Sirius Black was the bane of your existence.

In this world, it was a hunt or be hunted kind of world. Humans always assumed they were at the top of the food chain. They were ignorant and self-assured and always seemed to assume they were the predators everyone else should fear. They were stupidly arrogant with their own worth, and it was what made them the perfect prey for the true monsters at the top of the food chain—the vampires.

But that was where your kind came in, the true predators at the top of the food chain. 

You were the hunters. You were the ones who got rid of the fanged pests that roamed the Earth. You were the ones to protect the humans, to rid the world of the monsters that were nothing but parasites. 

And you were a good hunter. 

You were trained from a young age to be a killer of the killers. You were trained to be ruthless, merciless, unforgiving when it came to vampires. You were trained to evade their manipulations, to outsmart them, to beat them even if they are stronger and faster and older. You were trained to spot these monsters before you could even write your own name. 

It was your destiny, your fate, your legacy.

“Gonna poke me with your wee stick, love?” 

But for a reason that was beyond your understanding, the one vampire that always seemed to slip away was Sirius Black.

“Shut up,” you grumbled, panting softly as you straddled the boy with your knees pinning his arms to his sides and the stake in your hand just hovering over his chest. 

“What if I like the sound of my own voice?” He retorted, a teasing grin on his face as he looked far too relaxed for someone who was potentially seconds away from dying. 

It had been like a sick cat-and-mouse game. You would find him and trap him and have him in your grasp, and then he would slip away. He loved it. You hated it. But now you got him when he least expected it. The woods were currently swarming with other hunters that were looking for him, but now you had him. 

“I would say sorry to your ears,” you replied bluntly, pushing the tip of the stake deeper into his chest—just enough to make him a little hiss.

“Fucking hell, love,” he breathed out with a laugh. “You really don’t play about it.”

You ignored him, eyes narrowing in focus. “Any last words, Black?” 

“I have many words I would like to say to you,” Sirius confessed, the smirk still plastered on his face. “But I have a feeling they will just make you kill me faster.”

“You don’t seem scared,” you noted in annoyance.

“Why would I be scared when you’re on top of me, love?” Sirius remarked, watching in amusement at the way your face faltered a little with his words. “I happen to like attractive women sitting on me.” He paused as his grin widened. “Or on my face.”

“You’re gross,” you commented with a frown.

“But you’re not that disgusted, are you, love?” Sirius snapped back, raising his brows in a teasing manner when you fell quiet. “I can smell you, love. I know exactly how my words make you feel. I can hear how fast your heart is beating.”

“That’s just adrenaline,” you argued weakly.

“You want something that really gets your heart racing?” Sirius questioned, flashing you a glimpse of the sharp teeth poking his bottom lip. 

You barely had a chance to react before he had flipped you both over. Your body was pinned to the ground, the stake long gone and Sirius now covering your body with his own. He had your wrists pinned above your head, his other hand slowly tracing down your face despite you trying to jerk away from his touch.

“I could rip your throat out,” he mused as his fingers gently traced over your pulse point. “One move and you could be dead before you could even think about screaming for help.”

You squirmed beneath him. “Then do it.”

He just laughed, shaking his head. “But that’s not fun, sweetheart.” 

“Wanker,” you spat out, ready to say so much more until he rolled his hips against yours. An embarrassing noise left your lips, your cheeks burning when Sirius only grinned in response.

“Oh, you like that,” he hummed as he began to rock back and forth, letting out a low groan of pleasure. “Fuck, you don’t know how badly I wanted to fuck that attitude out of you.” 

You tried to pull on your wrists, tried to pull away from him but your attempts were weak, and you both knew that. You closed your eyes, trying to convince yourself that you didn’t enjoy it or that this was a part of Sirius’ sick game before he killed you. 

But then his head dipped down to your neck, his fangs scraping over a sensitive spot below your ear and you were arching into him. 

In another flash, you were pressed against a tree. Your hands were still pinned above your head, not that you were really fighting his hold now. His dark eyes found yours, something heated and primal shining that had you clenching your thighs together.

“I would have done this ages ago if I knew it shut you up so easily,” he commented jokingly, but your witty retort was lost on your lips when he was slipping his hand beneath the waistband of your training leathers. 

It was embarrassing just how quickly he had you crumbling, how quickly you gave into his touch despite the years of training to evade and avoid vampires’ tricks—including seduction. But he knew just where to touch you, knew just what spots tipped you over the edge, knew just how to make you whimper in that pretty, high-pitched way that he always dreamed of.

And before you knew it, both of your clothes were long gone, ripped and abandoned somewhere on the woodland floor as he fucked you against the tree. 

“What would your lil’ hunter friends say now?” Sirius teased as he gripped your thighs and guided your legs around his waist. “What would they say if they saw what a slut you were for some vampire cock?”

“Fuck you,” you muttered out between breathless moans as he thrusted into you, your tits bouncing with each move.

“I already am, sweetheart,” Sirius retorted, looking far too smug for your liking but you couldn’t even bring yourself to say anything. “And don’t you look fucking gorgeous when you’re all fucked out. My new lil’ toy, aren’t you, love?”

You whined, shaking your head but your walls clenching around his cock said another story.

“Gonna keep you around, sweetheart,” Sirius groaned, his teeth nipping your skin enough to make you choke on a gasped moan. “My pretty, cock-hungry hunter, hm? Think all my buddies are gonna be jealous.”

“Sirius,” you whimpered, feeling the coil in your stomach tighten at his filthy words. 

“Gonna fuck that stupid hunter training out of your head, love. You’re gonna be my cock-drunk whore, hm? My pretty slut.” 

And he could only take your response as a solid yes as you came on his cock, completely under his seduction and control.

.

[juuuulez]

🎧 | lip gallagher, cyber sex.

when he off work, he calling me on skype (yeah!) / trust me when i meet him, i’m fucking him on sight (yeah) / lemme see you can beat it, i’m feelin' just like mike (okay, okay).

NSFW, sex over skype, masterbation (female and male), short and sweet.

request a playlist roulette here!

The skype notification overtook your screen, disrupting the peaceful ambience of the show you were watching. It was some comedy, one you’d watched before, used purely as background noise to help shut off your mind.

You groaned as you accepted the call, brightness flooding the screen as Lip came into your view. “I’m tryn’a sleep.” You’ll mumble, face pressed into the flesh of your arms as you lie on your stomach.

Little sleep shorts hug your ass and it has Lip itching to touch you, even if he can’t. But he’s been horny all day, unable to focus on his lectures, and wants nothing more than to indulge in that.

“I know, baby,” He hums, voice low and rough as the friction of fabric on fabric meets your ears. “Just a couple minutes for me, yeah? Been thinkin’ bout you all fuckin’ day.”

Earphone wires are tangled at Lip’s chest as he shoves down his jeans, just enough so they sit low on his hips. It has you blinking blearily at the screen, still tired, but definitely more engaged at the idea of Lip calling you to jerk off. You’d missed him while he was at college, so you’d take what you could get.

“Don’t you have a roommate?” You muse, watching as he finally tugs his cock out, clearly so incredibly eager to get some relief.

The change in expression is instant, the way his brows furrow in focus, tongue caught between his teeth to suppress any sort of verbal reaction. “Fuck him.” He’ll grunt out.

So you watch him dutifully, admiring the sight of his strained cock fisted in his tight palm. Lip has the laptop balancing on his thighs, the room dark but screen bright enough that it illuminates his length just right, and it’s like your own private show.

“Gonna give me somethin’, baby?” He’s rasping out, a desperate twinge to his voice. Class was hell, work-study was hell, everything was hell. All he wanted was to see you.

So you hum in agreement, lazily rolling onto your back. You prop yourself up on the pillows, wiggling the shorts off your hips to expose your cunt, already slick just from watching Lip get off. The motions of your hand are slow, rolling your clit between your fingers, a gentle rub that makes your belly all warm.

And you can hear all the little noises Lip makes, despite trying his hardest to stay silent. You let yourself be vocal, knowing he’s wearing earphones, and Lip soaks it in. His fist works over his cock, red and throbbing in his hand, and he knows it won’t take him long to cum.

“Y’Gotta come over,” He mumbled, voice tight with tension. “Need’a fuck you. Can’t wait any longer.”

It brings a smile to your lips, loving the way his eyes are trained on you, watching the way your fingers massage your slick pussy. You could get off just like this, a delicious pressure on your clit, with the sight of him on your laptop screen. A high-pitched noise leaves your throat, somewhere between a whine and a confirmation.

“Mhm,” You hum. “Tomorrow. But y’need’a cum for me now, yeah? Please, Lip.”

It’s fucking irresistible. The computer gives your voice a tinny quality, but Lip doesn’t care, he loves that you want this. His fist tightens around his cock, twisting on the upstroke, eyes glued to the delicious sight of your sopping pussy, knowing tomorrow it’ll be all his.

He’s quick to shove his shirt further up his chest, shucking it out of the way, and you drink in the way his abdomen clenches. The muscles in his arm tighten as Lip groans into the air, neck craned back on the pillow and exposed to you. Sticky strings of cum land on his stomach and chest, dripping down his fist and running down his length. His hips twitch up into the movement, fucking himself empty.

The sight is downright sinful, the coil in your belly unravelling and warmth spreading through your body. It’s a gentle heat, one that makes your toes curl and a satisfied sigh drift through the speakers. The noise spurs Lip to squeeze himself once more, milking the last few seconds of his orgasm.

You’re even more sleepy now, and your shorts are somewhere on the floor, where you don’t intend on picking them up. Silence fills the space for a short moment, both of you catching your breath.

“Fuck.” Lip grumbles as he assesses the mess on his torso, hands finding an old shirt to clean it up with. It makes your nose scrunch up, mildly amused at the sight, whilst knowing you’ll have to scold him for it later.

“Can I go to sleep now?” You ask him with a pleased smile.

It makes Lip grin, lopsided and satisfied. “Yeah,” He tells you, “Gotta rest up, gonna fuck ya tomorrow.”

[inkyquince]

So you know when you have dogpeople activated, it's a huge taboo to be caught fuckin em and such

So they have the usual dog roles don't they?

So just... Having thoughts...

characters. Whitney. Mention of Landry and Niki.

cw. Whitney times ahead. Dog-person reader. Mention of animal cruelty but nothing graphic, just a joke. Breeding, pet play to the extreme, taboo behaviors, for fucking DoL at least. Whitney watching you piss, make of that what you will. 2.6k words.

Whitney never really liked dogs. Everyone thought he should, a boy treasuring a loyal companion who wouldn’t mind sticking by him, even joining in on his shenanigans. They were wrong. Whitney was never a fan of dogs. Cats. Anything. 

Worse? Hybrids. Fucking useless. Not a full dog, not a full person. 

So, when his aunt surprised him with a dopey fucking dog, he was less than pleased. What the shit was he going to do with this thing? None of the pros of having a dog, all the cons of having a dog AND a fucking roommate. Even if the stupid thing didn’t even realize it. 

“Can just tie them up outside. It’ll walk itself, shit in the corner of the garden, piss. Just throw some chow out there and it’ll snarf that up.” One of his friends leaned over to light his cigarette, fingers curved against the wind blowing through the park. 

“Pretty sure that’s animal cruelty.” Someone piqued up, coughing after dragging on a shoddily rolled joint. 

“You’d only get half the sentence, though.” 

Whitney huffed to himself and took a drag on his cigarette, letting the heat fill his lungs, tickling his throat pleasantly before exhaling raggedly. 

“Should just sell the thing.” He mused, flicking the ash into the wet grass. “Get some fucking use out of it.” 

“Give it to Landry, he and that photographer use ‘em for those videos.” That piqued his interest. 

“What videos? The usual sick shit?” Whitney glanced over, aware of some of the shit the criminal helped produce. Fuck, that was the first time he ever jerked it to fucking internet porn. Some nasty fucking shit, not entirely… Legal, but fucking normal in this town. 

“Oh, better. Landry’s a sick fucking puppy, bro.” His lackey grinned up at him, so proud of catching Whitney’s interest at long last. “Yknow, those pups are horny, but you gotta just shake them off and then they just lick their own crotch for a while. But, y’know, some people? Some people… Fuck em.” “Yeah, no shit, cuntface.” Whitney wasn’t a fucking idiot. Hell, he loved sending stupid sluts to go grab something for him, only for them to get trapped with a dog person. Fucking rubbing their stupid cunts on their face, or getting mounted by a fat dick, and the stupid slut crying for someone to help them. No one wants to be seen getting rutted into or against by one of those stupid things. It’s fucking humiliating. The entire town labels you a pervert. “I know people fuck the-” “Landry films it. Films it and uploads it. Then give the dog-person over to the pound or something.” She relaxed against the grass, leaning back so glibly that she didn’t realize that she was lying in his cigarette ash. Idiot.  The others pulled faces at each other, grossed out at the thought  of anyone getting off on watching someone fucking or getting fucked by a dog-person. Whitney, however, squinted at her. 

“Any good?” “Whitney, gross-”

“Yeah, yeah, fuck off, are they any good?” 

“I mean… From the views alone, I’m saying Landry is making a neat little sum on the side.” She shrugged before pulling her phone out and typing on it, her long fake nails making the most annoying clicking noises. Whitney’s annoyance grew until she finally showed him a website she pulled up. All he got was a glimpse of a page packed with thumbnails of cocks and tits and dogtails before she took her phone back again. “I say, sell the thing to him, and if they’re good enough, you’ll get a nice bit of pocket money on the side.” “Hey, that’s not a bad idea, is it, Whit?” One of the other blockheads piqued up. “Grab random dog people and sell them?” “Landry’s not going to take any random mutt, shitlips.” “It’s Lipschitz! And fuck off, it was a good idea-”

“Yeah, for a dipshit-” 

Whitney rolled his eyes and leaned back on the swing again, exhaling the smoke from his nose as he ignored the bickering between his lackeys again. Yeah. Get rid of you, and get a nice payday. He could work with that. 

Except as he walked, he couldn’t help but mull it over. The site. The amount of videos. Curiosity nagged at him with each step, bringing him closer to his evening plans. 

His parents were never in anymore, especially in the evenings. Off, on a date night, wrapped up in each other, or at work, or at what the fuck ever. It’s always been up to him to make his own food, wash up, clean, except now he was doing it for two. Heated up something in the oven for himself and poured some food for you into your bowl, dragging on his cigarette as he watched you chew loudly, snarfing it down gratefully. Refilling your water as he washed his plate, jabbing at the chunks of food before giving up and leaving it to soak, so his mother would eventually take care of it. Pulling a face as you whined to be let out and nudging the backdoor open so you could trot out and make yourself comfy, stubbing out his cigarette as he watched you piss into the grass, feeling something warm in the curve of his belly. Eventually tugging you back inside and locking the door before heading upstairs, ignoring your excited little steps after him. Continued to ignore you as he flung himself into bed, as you nosed among his things, before tucking yourself under his cluttered desk with a little yawn. Whitney’s kicks off his pre-ripped jeans, underwear and shirt before giving his balls a rub, stretching out on his duvet. He slipped on some sweats, before dragging a blanket over his midriff, more focused on his phone, pulling up the website whats-her-fuck showed him earlier. 

It was obvious that most videos came from one person, with only a few being some real amateur shit, with shaky camera and an overexcited camera person. No, Landry’s shit was obviously good. Niki as the camera guy, appreciative angles, but also… 

It fucking looked good. 

The dog boy sitting all cute, blinking like a stupid bitch at the camera as it zoomed in on his big eyes before zooming out. Late at night, at the beach, his tail wagging, before the camera pans over to some guy, naked from the waist down. Cock bobbing as this dude massages his own balls. 

“This your dog?” A voice from behind the camera asks and the guy nods. “You fuck the pooch a lot?” 

“Oh yeah.” The guy’s obviously mic'd up, with the seashore wind picking up. “I got him from the pound and he just had such a cute ass. They’re so easy to train. Watch.” 

The guy whistles and the puppy boy trots over excitedly, his bubble butt raised high and proud, almost inviting a pervert in. Whitney’s cock began to rise, tenting his sweats. He huffed to himself, laying his hand over his bulge and giving it a squeeze. The dog-person leans up to sniff a bit at the guy’s cock but doesn't seem that interested, more into sweetly nuzzling at his balls. There were a few chuckles from the men standing around and the pup looked around, tongue lolling out, tail wagging so hard at being the object of such enjoyment. 

“He’s cute.” The guy behind the camera said, to some murmurs of agreement. 

“You ain’t seen nothing yet.” The guy chuckled before snapping his fingers at the dog-boy. “Present.” 

The change was instantaneous. His ears perked up and his tail started going a mile miles per hour. Fuck, even his knotted cock sprang up so quickly that it earned an appreciative whistle. Within moments, he had fallen onto his back and rolled over onto his soft tummy, raising his ass, even humping the air a bit, as if trying to entice. 

“Yeah, puppy. You want a nice breeding, don’t you?” The guy dropped to his knees and Whitney had to slip his hand into his sweats at long lost, massaging at his shaft eagerly. 

The puppy-boy whined and raised his ass further, spreading his legs. 

“Breed! Please breed!” He whined, shaking his ass like he was about to pounce. 

Whitney groaned, his stomach tightening, slipping his cock free fully and jerking it with desperation. His thumb dragging against his slit, teasing out precum as he desperately played with himself. Fuck, he didn’t really get it before, but this was fucking doing it for him. Stupid sluts he enjoyed, but fuck. Trained stupid sluts, rolling over at the snap of his fingers? No wonder Landry was having success with this shit, way more appealing than anything he’s watched before- 

The feeling of something wet brushing the back of his hand made him cuss and nearly throw his phone. Blinking against the dark after staring at his phone screen for so long, it took him a moment to realise what the fuck that feeling even was. 

Your big stupid eyes were staring up at him, nudging your nose against the back of his hand with a look of blind adoration. 

“What ya watching?” Your tail was wagging, probably having heard the sound of an excited puppy-boy from across the room. 

Whitney glanced from your big, excited eyes, your tail wagging wildly, back to the his video, titled “Puppy-boy bred full at the beach”, with the camera in the perfect POV shot, showing a fat cock drilling the poor dog-person’s asshole, before looking back at you. You didn’t seem perturbed by his staring, stupid bitch you were, in fact, your smile at him just broadened, happy at the attention. Your happy little face so close to his fat cock, throbbing still in his hand. 

He slowly sat up, chucking his phone to the side, slipping into a cross legged position, cock pressing against his stomach. Whitney took hold of the base of his cock, a smirk slowly growing on his face as you remained close, tail wagging. Squeezing the base of his cock, he watched as your eyes went from looking at his face, to his erection with an innocent curiosity. He grinned and lightly tapped the head against your lips, smearing precum, and your tongue flicked out to taste it, before scrunching your cute little face up. 

“Salty.” You stuck out your tongue, as if airing it out would help. 

Whitney took the moment to drag his cock over it again, your rough tongue brushing over the slit in a way that almost had him grab you by your floppy ears and fuck your mouth… Well…

“Open.” Whitney demanded, and you whined, tail stilling for a moment before you opened your maw. 

Perfect. A sloppy, pink hole for him to fuck until you learn to love the taste of cock. Maybe that will up your value. 

In the dark of the room, with the only light being from his phone, the loudest noise was the wet slap of his cock rubbing against your drooling tongue, hitting the back of your throat, saliva swishing loudly as Whitney groaned. It wasn’t like the sluts at school. You couldn’t stop salivating, spit running down your chin as your tail continued to wag wildly. He could fucking condition you. Just the whiff of cock and you’d be a drooly, wet mess. 

“Fuck. Fuck. Who's my good puppy?” He groaned, letting his mouth run without meaning to. 

You whined with excitement, ears perking up at the first bit of positive reinforcement you had ever gotten from Whitney. 

“Yeah, you are. My cute, stupid, cockwhore puppy.” His tone was soft and your brain registered as good, as your brain clouded and you couldn’t stop drooling. “Gonna fuck you, huh? Gonna breed your stupid puppy hole, huh?” 

Your tail stopped all together, your eyes growing large and dark. Ah. Liked that word huh? Whitney yanked his cock out of your throat, drool spilling all over his floor, dripping from his erection and your tongue. 

“Alright. Roll over, or something. C’mon.” 

You whined and spread your legs from your seated position, sitting back on your haunches, showing off how excited you were, making a mess all over his floor. Squirming a bit, you fell onto your back, tail peeking out and wagging as you stared up at your master with unblemished love. Whitney smirked and kneeled down in front of you, leaning over for a moment to spit into your mouth before papping his slicked up cock against your hole, puffy and ready to be bred. 

The sound of the front door opening had him stilling for just a moment, and his cock softened a bit. If his parents found him with his stupid dog-person like this? What-

Your hole snagged against the tip of his cock, jerking his attention back to you as you whined and desperately humped at him. Alright. Fuck. Yeah. His pooch needed seeing to. As his parents moved around downstairs, his mother bemoaning the fact he left his dishes in the sink, he put a sweating palm over your mouth, letting you lick the salt from his palm as he rubbed the tip of his cock against your hole. Whitney groaned as he slowly sunk into you, your excited huffing slipping into a pleasured whine. 

“Good puppy.” Whitney hissed out between his teeth, his hips moving involuntarily as he fucked into your tight, sloppy heat. The squelching sound of his curved cock hitting deep into your hole was the hottest fucking thing he’d ever fucking heard. He’s heard sluts whining for cock, he’s fucked his fair share of whores, but jesus christ, this puppy-bitch was the best of both worlds. Loyal, dumb, like a dog, with the hole of the nastiest whore in town. Thoughts of selling you onto Landry, only seeing you fucked open on videos, slipped away, more focused on simultaneously trying to fuck deeper and deeper into you, but also keeping quiet as his parents ascended the staircase. 

“I should check on Whitney.” His mother whispered to his father, who just grunted. 

His panic flipped, both from his balls tightening as your heat clamped down around him, but also shock. Whitney was not going to get caught fucking his stupid fucking dog-person. With a low hiss, he hooked his arms around your thighs and picked you up, you nuzzling into his neck with a happy huff, stupid bitch. He almost had to wrestle you into bed, with you excitedly still trying to back up against his cock trapped in your hole. His mother’s voice came closer and he just barely yanked his covers up over him and you, with you still snuffling at his cheek. 

The door opened and a line of light cut across his room and there was a beat of silence, with you still lovingly nuzzling into him. 

“Awh. He finally let the pooch sleep on his bed.” His mother cooed. There was another beat, of her watching him, and you slowly humping at his cock, balls about to fucking burst inside his puppy-person with his mother fucking watching. 

After a beat, the door closed again, and Whitney let out a guttural moan into your shoulder, a few more humps from you more than enough to send him over the edge, cum flooding your hole as his mother’s footsteps retreated to the master bedroom. 

“Fucking… Hell…” Whitney raggedly breathed out as you shivered against him, beginning to lick affectionately at his chin. You were more of a person than a dog, he guessed. 

A few days later, he was back at the park, with you dozing against his knee as he sat at the fountain.  Whitney had struggled with selling you to Landry, with his friends around him remarking their surprise the mutt was still around and still as adoring of him as ever. With only the one who recommended  him the site giving him a knowing leer and petting your ears. 

[razzmatash]

Not Yet Day 10 - Surprise Visit Love and Deepspace Sylus x f!OC 1431 Words Read on Ao3 banner by firefly-graphics

“Calli, you never mentioned that your boyfriend was loaded!”

Pulling her head out of her scrubs, Calli blinked at the woman that had swung around the lockers to face her. “Huh?”

She rolled her eyes before shaking a finger at her. “Your man. Not only is he good looking but he’s loaded as well?”

“Probably loaded in other ways too,” another voice chirped from the other side of the lockers, causing laughter through the room.

“Where is this coming from?” Calli asked warily, tugging her t-shirt down over her belly.

The other nurse’s eyes widened suddenly. “Oh, you didn’t know?”

“That he’s loaded? I already knew that.”

“Well, you’ll see soon enough!”

“Wait!” she said sharply as the other turned sharply to run away. “What the fuck are you talking about?!”

No answer came and she had the distinct impression that everyone was getting out of the locker room as quickly as they could.

Calli huffed to herself. What the hell was going on? Why would she suddenly mention Sylus like that? She’d never really hid the fact that she had a boyfriend. It would have been idiotic given how Sylus liked showing up to pick her up whenever he could and showing that they were very much together. But she didn’t talk much about what he did or where he came from. It was hard to keep the others at bay but most of them had picked up on the fact that she didn’t want to talk much about it.

Of course, that meant they started making things up. Government secret agent, mafia boss, playboy billionaire. Those were only the latest guesses she’d heard thrown around and she refused to acknowledge that she had heard them. They were having fun and Sylus always thought it was amusing when she told him.

But why would she say that?

Rolling up her scrubs, she tucked them into her bag and hefted it up. She needed to get home quickly so she could start prepping for tomorrow. While she was excited about having everyone over for holiday dinner, she wasn’t sure how it was going to go. So she wanted to get as much done tonight as she could and try to have a good night’s sleep. Then she could be ready for whatever chaos came from dinner.

She pulled on her jacket and started for the door. With any luck, transit wouldn’t be too bad and there wouldn’t be any hassles getting-

“Where are you taking her?”

“It better be somewhere nice!”

“Or maybe you should get her a ring!”

Calli paused at the chorus of voices that sounded suspiciously like the girls she worked with. Peeking around a corner, something odd happened. Her heart somehow sank and leapt at the same time. Sylus was standing near the nurses station, completely surrounded by the rest of her shift. It was them peppering him with questions! What were they doing? And what was he doing here? He’d told her he’d be busy until dinner tomorrow, wrapping up everything he could before they went on their holiday. Had he lied or had he actually wrapped up early?

“She’s deciding where we’re going.” Sylus’ smooth voice reached her, amusement laced through it. “Only she knows if it’s nice or not.”

“But you’re paying for it?”

“I am.”

“You also didn’t answer about the ring,” someone said slyly.

Her heart leapt into her throat and she hurried around the corner. They’d only been together a few months! What were they doing?! She didn’t want them to ask and she absolutely did not want him to answer!

She didn’t know if he heard her or if he somehow felt her approaching but Sylus looked up suddenly. She saw the smile spread across his face before his gaze dropped back down to the other nurses. “A ring?” he mused. “I wouldn’t be opposed but-”

“What are you doing here?” Calli interrupted, jerking to a halt on the other side of the small crowd.

The nurses all spun to face her before they all hurriedly left, saying their goodbyes and holiday wishes. Sylus continued to watch her with a smile, one eyebrow raised at her outburst. “Hello, sweetie,” he murmured, leaning down to meet her.

She reached up and covered his mouth with both of her hands. “Why would you answer that?” she whispered. “They’re just trying to get a rise out of you.”

He caught her wrists and pulled them away from his mouth. “I don’t think I’m the one they were trying to get a rise out of.”

Calli huffed, shaking her head. “But what are you doing here? Did you wrap up everything early?”

Sylus hummed, letting go of her wrists. One hand stroked over her hair while the other threaded their fingers together. “I did so I thought I would come help you tonight.”

And spend more time with you. The sentiment was unspoken but she heard it loud and clear. “I’d like that.”

Another smile before he was leading her away from the station where the girls were still watching them like hawks, waiting for more information. His almost comment on the ring was going to make the rounds but hopefully that would die down by the time she got back. Hopefully.

She gave a little wave as people chirped their goodbyes as they walked past but Sylus didn’t stop to let her talk to them. She didn’t mind. Her thoughts were starting to pile up with all the things they needed to do to prep for tomorrow. It would be a little easier with him there but maybe she could fit in a few more things so they could relax more tomorrow. Maybe-

A small noise left her when Sylus tugged gently on her hand before wrapping an arm around her waist.

“You’re overthinking it,” he said without looking, leading her out the door. “We’ll do what we can and finish the rest tomorrow.”

“But-”

“Kitten, we have time.”

She puffed out her cheeks before sighing. He was right. She’d had enough time when it was just her. With him there, they could finish early, maybe enjoy dinner together before tucking in for the rest of the night. She didn’t say anything as he took her to his car and helped her into the passenger seat. Instead, she just snuggled into it.

His laughter roused her a little bit as he pulled away from the hospital. “Comfortable?”

“It’s better than the bus,” she teased, making him chuckle.

“I should hope so.”

Calli smiled and almost purred as a large hand came to rest on her thigh. “Definitely don’t have that on the bus,” she murmured.

His fingers tightened for a moment. “I should hope not.”

It was her turn to laugh before they fell into a comfortable silence. But he didn’t let it last for long.

“Black diamonds,” he said quietly. “Platinum.”

She frowned, turning to him. “What?”

“I said I wasn’t opposed to it, kitten. Do you really think I haven’t thought about it?”

Her frown deepened. What was he talking about? Opposed to what? What would he be using diamonds and platinum-Calli froze in her seat, staring at him. “Sylus....”

“Maybe I should,” he mused. “It’s just a ring.”

Her heart thumped in her chest, her pulse ringing in her ears. “You....”

He caught her hand and brought it to his lips. She didn’t miss which finger he kissed. “But you don’t let me buy you jewellery,” he continued. “You don’t take it when I try to give it to you. Would you turn me down if I gave you a ring?”

She didn’t know what to say, her thoughts whirling again but going in a completely different direction.

Scarlet eyes slid to her and his lips quirked up. “What are you thinking about to look like that, sweetie? Can’t a man give his lover a gift?”

“But a ring?” she squeaked.

“What’s wrong with that?” he asked smoothly. “It’s just a ring. What do you think it is?”

She didn’t know what to think! Was he serious that it was just a ring because the girls were absolutely not asking about just a ring earlier? Or was he teasing her and actually being serious?

Another look and a soothing squeeze of her hand. “But I didn’t get to finish,” Sylus said quietly. “While I’m not opposed, I know it’s not time.”

Her heart was back to pounding wildly at the mere thought that he wanted that with her. Because she heard the unspoken yet at the end of his sentence.

[iamthecomet]

Kinktober Day 17 - Nipple Play

Guys, it's just 900 (ish) words of Swiss playing with Dew's nipples and ruining his life. A little lactation kink thrown in because that's what happens when you leave me unsupervised.

“Bet you can cum like this.” 

Dew shakes his head. Vehement. Sweaty golden hair cascading into his face as he does.  He leans back, body arching head dipping away from Swiss even as Swiss holds him firmly on his lap with an arm around his waist. Fingers digging into his hip to keep Dew exactly where he wants them. 

It’s early morning. The sun just starting to peek over the horizon. Dew is undercaffinated and still sleep warm in Swiss’ arms. And that means that Dew is basically defenseless. Dew’s still shaking his head like he’s trying to chase the thought away entirely. 

“No.” 

Swiss doesn’t respond to that. Doesn need to. Instead, he seals his lips around one of Dew’s swollen nipples. He sucks hard, tugs on the ring through it with his teeth. Dew’s back arches deeper as he presses his body closer to the heat of Swiss’s mouth. 

He uses his fingers on the other one. Plucking, twisting. None too kind. But Dew loves it if the way his cock spits between their bellies is any way to judge. Swiss could help him out. Hitch Dew a little closer on his hips, rub their dicks together. Tips sticky and wet. Could have Dew cumming all over him in a matter of seconds like that. But this is better. The aborted little rolls of Dew’s hips. Stutterin when he realizes there is nothing to grind against. The broken noise he makes when Swiss really digs his teeth in. 

Swiss pulls back. A string of spit connecting his lips to Dew’s nipple as he tips his head up. Leans back against the mahogany headboard and looks at Dew. Really takes him in. Dew’s red down to his throat. His hair damp with sweat. Fingers clenching and releasing against Swiss’ back. Jaw slack, mouth glazed. 

“They always get so puffy for me,” Swiss muses, and Dew whimpers at the words. Swiss gives his nipple a cruel twist and Dew jolts. Somewhere between trying to pull away and push closer. Hips jerking forward. 

“Swiss–fuck–please.” 

“Please what? Firefly?” 

“Touch me.” 

“I am.” Swiss drives the point home with another sharp twist. The press of the flat of his tongue over the other sensitive bud. Dew growls. Frustrated, desperate, needy in a way he only gets when Swiss does this to him. Torture that Dew has learned to beg for. “How much longer until they let down, huh?” 

“Fuck–don’t say shit like that.” 

Swiss ignores him. “Get them all swollen, nice and full for me? Huh? You’d like it.” 

Dew shakes his head again, but Swiss can feel the way his cock kick between them. He hears the whine Dew tries to hide with clenched teeth. . “Bet it’s real sweet.” 

“Satanas, Swiss. What the fuck?” 

“You’d look so pretty like that too,” Swiss cups his hand around the non-existent swell of Dew’s pec. “Puffed up, aching. Cute little tits. Bet if I work at them enough it’ll happen. Does it hurt?” 

Dew nods without any hesitation. Blush deepening. Spreading down his chest now. . "Y-yeah, please. Come on. Just touch me already. Make me cum." 

"I'm trying." Swiss grazes his teeth over Dew's nipple and Dew thrashes. 

"Can't cum like this, Swiss. Can't. Fucking hells, need you to touch it. Need–" 

"No you don't," Swiss kisses him over his heart. Sweet. A bitter contrast to the tone of his voice. Dew is falling apart in his arms and Swiss is insane with it. Stomach clenching. Cock kicking. He'll bury himself in Dew's body soon. Fuck him until his eyes get misty. But first–

"You can do it, Dewy. For me. I know you can." 

Dew's near panic is so sweet. The way he whines. How he tries to scoot his hips closer so he can rut against Swiss' belly. Anything to make it happen, anything to please Swiss. To give him this. It’s an impossible task. But Swiss isn’t about to let up. Not until Dew’s nipples are red and raw. Not until he’s had his fill of sweat slicked skin. 

He rolls a nipple beneath his thumb and basks in the way it makes Dew gasp. Barely a touch. Swiss looks down and finds the tip of Dew’s dick flushed so dark it’s nearing purple. Sticking straight out from his body. Kicking wildly as Swiss toys with him. 

“Swiss–please,” Dew voice is a pathetic whine. Another few minutes and Swiss knows Dew will promise him anything for a chance to cum. 

“Not yet.” Swiss mumbles, sucking hard on the pebbled bud. Rock hard and swollen beneath his tongue. Dew bows in on himself. Hiccups on a moan. Body shuddering beautifully in Swiss’ grip. He wonders what they have to do today. Rehearsal probably. Mass later. He can’t wait to see Dew wince when his guitar strap shifts the wrong way. Can’t wait to scurry across the stage and touch him through his uniform. Drag his fingers over those bruised nipples while Dew fumbles through a solo. 

Maybe Dew will fuck him about it later. 

“Come on, Swiss.” Dew begs so beautifully. Swiss could listen to it forever. 

“Not until they let down. Not until you give me a taste.” Swiss’ mouth descends again, worrying abused flesh with his teeth. Dew sobs, Swiss has never heard a sweeter sound. 

[dewracle]

☽・・𝙿𝚊𝚝𝚑 𝚘𝚏 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚘𝚗・・☾

❥ Chapter 2 ➛ Word Count - 3,218 ᶠᶦᶜ ᵐᵉⁿᵘ ⁻ ᶜʰᵃᵖᵗᵉʳ ᵒⁿ ᵃᵒ³

Have you ever been in a state of awake yet asleep? Where your body and mind work on their own, leaving you sitting to watch through your own eyes? Have you ever sworn you were awake just for a moment later a voice from beyond echoes in your mind, calling your name… Elliot has.

A soft muse of a voice called for him, nudging his subconscious to wake up. He groaned softly as the voice filled out, becoming louder and more clear.

“Elliot~ Elliot~ It’s time to wake up~” The man’s voice called softly, chuckling as Elliot brought his hands to rub the sleep out of his eyes.

The blonde tried to roll over, tried to silence the voice but the man persisted. He muttered weakly, “Let me sleep...”

The man’s voice cooed at him as though he was a small child. Elliot wanted to be angry, to be mad but the way the man ran his fingers through his hair so tenderly, he couldn’t help but sigh.

Slowly he opened his blurry eyes just to blink away the fog. Elliot was met with a man, tall and attractive. He smiled down at him, soft fangs poking at his plush lips. It sent a shiver down Elliot’s spine, a mix of fear and arousal stirring in his stomach.

“There you are… How was your nap on my beach?” The mysterious man asked, still tenderly touching Elliot.

The blonde paused for a moment, briefly glancing around him before quickly scooting away from the man. “Who-who the hell are you?!”

His heartbeat quickened as he felt his chest, his arms. He was supposed to be dead yet here he sat on a beach of red sand and even redder water. At that moment he noticed the trees had swallowed the opening, leaving it so he could not escape.

Elliot’s breathing quickened as he hugged himself tight, frantically looking around at the many red flowers decorating the beach.

The man before him sighed and stood to his full height, perfectly towering over Elliot. Even in the moment, he understood if he tried to fight back, nothing good would come out of it. He feared the nearly 7-foot-tall man would crush him under his gaze.

“My name… is Svefn but you will forget that name shortly and only refer to me as Sleep.”

Sleep. The name took the breath out of Elliot’s lungs as he scrambled through the beautiful red flowers. A wash of panic flooded him as Sleep stepped closer, closely watching his pathetic attempts to escape.

Elliot whined high in his throat, soft tears pricking in his eyes. “Please... Please I’m sorry I didn’t mean to intrude..!”

His pleas fell on deaf ears as he backed into someone. He blinked and Sleep was gone, now standing idly behind him. The man, creature even, bent down and lifted Elliot as though he weighed nothing to him.

“Don’t fear little one… I invited you here.” Sleep mused while placing Elliot on his feet, “I wish to offer you salvation, partnership, and eternal love.”

“W-what..?” Elliot stared bewildered while Sleep brushed the sand off his shirt, righting the small wrinkles. Once he deemed Elliot’s clothes fit, he grasped his chin, tilting his head upwards to stare into his eyes.

“Elliot my dear, I saved you.” Sleep expressed with deep concern, “I fixed your wounds, I breathed life into you…”

Face twisting in confusion, Elliot forced his chin from the man’s grasp and glanced at his arm. Shock rushed over him, forcing him to quickly look at Sleep in awe. “How did you…”

His question prompted a laugh from Sleep, a deep chuckle that coated Elliot’s nerves in sickly sweet calm. How had Sleep healed him? Healed his gaping wounds to nothing but simple scars? The skin itself wasn’t even raised, acting as though the wound had healed years ago. But Elliot’s mind didn’t allow him to care, forcing him into a deep state of happiness.

The ginger leaned down, nosing gently at Elliot’s nose, forcing him to jerk slightly but stay still. “I am no man, little one… Welcome to my home, Eden.”

“Eden…” Elliot muttered, eyes closing as he basked in the gentle words, “What are you, Sleep..?”

Sleep grasped at Elliot’s hips, pulling him closer to press against one another. Instinctively Elliot brought his hands to Sleep’s chest, bracing himself as he hummed pleased.

“I am a god my darling, a god offering you your greatest desires.” Sleep mused while gently rubbing his thumb into Elliot’s hip, “Offering you love and eternal partnership, do you accept? Wish to become my vessel for my love?”

The offer seemed odd, maybe even strange coming from a man who deemed himself a god. Elliot wanted to speak out, to question him, but the touch was intoxicating. It lured him into trusting Sleep, to believe that he would always be there...

Elliot found his mouth opening to speak on its own, the words “I accept…” spilling from him with a soft needy whine. Sleep’s smile turned seductive, pleased with himself as he leaned down to press a rough kiss against Elliot’s lips. It drew a shocked gasp from the blonde’s lips as he relaxed into the forceful movement.

The Rest On AO3

[strawbbfluff]

Hi there! I just found your blog and it's so cute!! Your writing is so teasy and good ahhh

If your requests are open, could I request for cheer up tickles with ler!Wanderer and lee!reader?

I hope you're having an amazing day lovely!!

smile, you’re annoying

a/n: of course you can! i haven’t gotten to write for wanderer yet so this was super fun! ^_^

————————————————————————

“stop making that face. it’s ugly.”

“…what the hell, dude?” you huffed, scooching yourself farther away from the bratty boy with the obnoxiously large hat.

you were having an awful day. everything that could’ve gone wrong at the akademiya today did go wrong, and it didn’t help that you were partnered up with hat guy to write a thesis for homework. this man had a serious attitude problem.

“i’m just telling it like it is. we’re not going to get anything done if you keep scowling and feeling sorry for yourself like that,” wanderer stated, rolling his eyes when you moved even further away from him. “it’s not like i’m crazy about you, either.”

“archons, do you have to be such a jerk all the time? would it kill you to be nice for just a minute?” you snapped, turning your head to look at him with teary eyes.

oh. you were crying. not good.

“…sorry. is there… anything i can do?” he muttered, averting his gaze. he wasn’t sure why apologies were so hard for him.

“j-just… leave me alone or something. it’s clear you don’t even wanna work with me anyways- ah?!” you spluttered, surprised by the two arms gently embracing you.

“are you actually hugging me right n—“

“shut up. i’m just trying to make you feel better,” wanderer mumbled, his ears quickly turning bright red when he saw you smile softly. “s-so we can do the thesis, of course!! don’t get any ideas.”

and so you let yourself be hugged for a while, actually enjoying the silence and the shockingly warm feeling of his arms around you. you started to realize that maybe everything would be okay, after all.

you started feeling a lot better, and your slightly mischievous personality was starting to come back in full swing. you grinned before pinching his arm as hard as you could.

your smile dropped when he didn’t even react. however, after looking up at him, your stomach dropped, too.

he was smirking.

“apologies, i have a high pain tolerance,” he mused, before pinching your side just as hard as you had pinched him. what he didn’t expect was for you to practically jump 10 feet in the air and giggle.

“…oh?”

“don’t even think about it.”

“too late,” wanderer chuckled, before quickly tightening his embrace. you whined.

“this is really unnecessary plehehehease!! lehehehet’s wohohohork on the theheheheheis ehehehe!!” you cried out, wriggling around helplessly as a barrage of pinches made their way all over your sides. you could practically sense that arrogant smirk on his face!

“hm… depends. are you gonna stop having that annoying look on your face? you gonna stop crying?” he whispered in your ear, grinning when you whined and brought your shoulder up to it. “heh. keep begging.”

“p-plehehehehease! stuhuhuhuhupid hahahahahat guhuhuhuhuy!” you squealed, shrieking when one of wanderer’s hands skittered over to your tummy. two spots at once?? so unfair!!

“louder. tickle tickle, loser,” he teased, digging both hands’ fingertips into your stomach now with vigor. you were practically up the wall at this point.

“PLEHEHEHEASE STOHOHOP! I’M FEHEHEHEELING BEHEHEHETTER!” you blurted out amidst your laughter, your hands desperately clawing at his. he finally relented.

you fell back, letting out a sigh of relief as you caught your breath on the floor. wanderer scoffed.

“it’s wanderer.”

“h-huh…?”

“you can call me wanderer. hat guy is just a stupid name my superior made up for me.”

“that’s all you have to say after all this?!” you exclaimed incredulously, propping yourself up on your elbows to look at him with disdain. he shrugged.

“that annoying look is off your face. i got you to smile. what’s the problem?” wanderer asked.

“you-! cmere! let’s see how you like it!” you shouted, quickly pouncing on the anemo user to turn the tables on him.

“ack-! get offa’ me, worm!”

looks like this thesis won’t be getting done for a while.

[lookingupatthesamemoon]

F/Obruary Day 2 - Plushies

pairing: Summer + Ricky LaFleur

summary: Ricky introduces Summer to the small, plush version of him being mass-produced for the public.

word count: 519

note: inspired by these little guys. of course.

divider by @/thecutestgrotto :3

“What the hell is that?” Summer asked, stifling a laugh as she pointed at her boyfriend’s kitchen counter. It was a question she was often asking when she found herself in his trailer instead of her own, surrounded by the mounds of clutter that were somehow always everywhere throughout the place. This was something different, though. There, right next to the microwave, sat what appeared to be a plush version of… Him? Signature shirt, signature chains, a cigarette hanging from his lips… It was all there.

“It’s me,” Ricky replied, turning around to face her. “Doesn’t he look just like me?”

“I guess he does,” Summer said, still struggling not to laugh about it, especially looking at him and his plush counterpart right next to each other. “But… Why? Where’d he come from?”

“I dunno, some stupid deal Julian made or somethin’... Or maybe it was Bubbles, I can’t remember. But, I dunno, they wanted to get those little guys made to promote fuckin’... Actually, I don’t even know what the fuck they’re promotin’. I mean, it’s not like those camera fucks are followin’ us around all the time anymore.”

“So, basically, Julian just wanted to make more money off you guys?”

“Basinkly, yes.”

Summer rolled her eyes. Julian was a good friend, sure, to both her and Ricky, but she would be lying if she said he didn’t have a habit of pissing her off. He meant well, and she knew that, but sometimes it really did feel like he was taking advantage of his closest friends for the sake of making a quick buck.

She took a few steps forward, picking the plush up in her hands. She gave it a good squeeze, looking into its eyes. She couldn’t tell if she liked them or not. “He is cute… Not as cute as the real you, but cute.”

“Yeah?” Ricky asked, sauntering closer to Summer, watching as she eyed the toy in her hands. “You should see the ones they made of Julian and Bubbles, they’re fuckin’ adornable.”

Summer raised an eyebrow as she looked up to meet Ricky’s eyes, shaking her head slightly. She really admired the love he had for his friends, especially considering just how many times they’d jerked each other around over the years. What the three of them had was special, there was no denying that. 

“Well, come on, give ‘im a hug and tell ‘im you love ‘im or somethin’,” Ricky suggested, playfully nudging Summer’s arm. “C’mon, it’ll be just like huggin’ me.”

Summer giggled, bringing the plush up her chest, pressing it between her breasts.

“My turn next,” Ricky joked.

Summer laughed, smacking him with the plush. “Perv!”

“Guilty as charged,” Ricky chuckled. “So, cute and cuddly?”

“Well, not as good of a cuddle as you but… You know, this little guy might be nice to have when you’re away from home with the guys,” Summer mused. “Do I get to keep him or what?”

“I mean, I kinda wanted to keep ‘im, but, I mean, sure, you can have ‘im.”

“Rick, we live together. We can both keep him.”

[obxone]

Marmoris (Chapter Seventeen)

Edited-ish. ~1.6k words

Taglist: @gillybear17

Masterpage

The Island Club is full of all the kooks today, and now that includes you as you make your way to the hostess station to look for Sarah. A lunch date with your twin sister to catch up without any of your new friends around. You knew JJ was off today because he had begged you to join the pogues on a fishing expedition. “Hi!” You smile at the pretty hostess. “I am meeting my sister here… Sarah Cameron.”

“Right this way." She smiles before leading you past the stand and into the restaurant. “Ready to pay me back on that favor you owe me?”

You laugh and look at her again. “Hannah, right?”

“Correct,” she confirms with a bright smile. 

“Sure, what are you thinking?” You ask as you shoulder your purse. You spot Sarah at a two-top table not far away. You pause and wait for her response.

“Your brother-”

“Rafe?” Your face morphs into one of disgust, and she nods. “You want my brother?”

“Doesn’t everyone?”

“Oh, gross,” you mutter, and she giggles. “I’m assuming he is here somewhere?”

She smiles brighter. “Golf course.”

“Great, let me drop this off,” you lift your purse. “And I’ll meet you on the golf course to do an introduction.”

“Of course,” she beams, bouncing on the balls of her feet in excitement before going. You watch her go with a laugh before turning to meet Sarah. Rafe would eat her alive, but she wanted the introduction, so you would do it. 

“Be back in a second. I have to find Rafe,” you tell Sarah as you drop your purse off. “You okay for a second?”

“Sure,” she nods, sipping her water. “I would offer to come, but it is Rafe. And we both know I am not the favorite sister.”

You laugh before making your way down the steps and onto the green. Hannah steps out of the shade and follows you to the eighth hole smiling ear to ear. “My brother can be a dick to pogues, so don’t be surprised if he is a jerk.” You warn her, running your hand through your hair. 

She laughs before shaking her head. “I’ve seen him in action.”

You laugh and shake your head. Of course, she does not care. Once you are close enough, you tell her to stay before you near him, and you shield your eyes as you call for him. He watches his golf ball go into the hole but frowns after he notices that you are not alone in wanting his attention. 

“What now?”

You smirk at him, tipping your head at his attitude. He huffs before lifting his hand to tell his friends to give him a moment. Rafe walks closer to you. His eyes scrunching against the sun. 

“You know, they make that ballcap you are wearing to protect your face from the sun if you turn it around,” you tease, tapping your finger against his ballcap. He rolls his eyes and swats your hand away. “You know you love me,” you taunt before patting his upper arm. “I need a favor.”

“No.”

You smirk at him, scrunching your nose. “You think you have a choice?”

He frowns at you. 

“Anyways, you owe me more than you’ll ever be able to repay, big brother. So… come meet Hannah?”

“Hannah?” His face screws up in confusion, and you gesture to her. She offers a half awkward wave from the distance. “The hostess?”

“Yeah,” you muse. “She’s pretty, right?”

“What are you doing, hmm?” You grin up at him, batting your eyelashes until he groans. "All right."

“Thank you!” You lean up and peck his cheek. “At least you know that you’ll get some, right?”

“Go away,” he mutters, shoving you, and you give him the finger before you run away.

“Have fun!” You sing to Hannah as you pass her. She laughs and watches you go. You glance back once you are back at the covered patio to see them talking. She touches him, dragging her hand down his arm, and you laugh as you hurry back to Sarah. 

“You think you just break up with a guy like me?!”

You are skidding to a halt, lips parting in shock at the sight of Topper yelling at your sister. Her gaze catches on you, and you notice the tears collecting in her eyes. 

“Topper, not here, please.”

“Why the hell not, Sarah?!” He asks, his hands balling into fists at his sides. “Why not?” He steps closer to her, and you cross the distance in a few short steps. “Is this about that pogue, huh?”

“Topper!” You snap at him, and he spins to look at you. 

“This is all your fault!” He yells, and you recoil back from him. “You just had to go and be friends with those pogues! And now you are bringing your sister with you! You both are better than this!”

“Topper!” You snap at him again, aware of all the eyes as Sarah gets upset, and your face burns in embarrassment. “Have you lost your mind?”

“Everything okay over here?” Kelce asks, nearing the table with a fruity drink in his hand. “Top?”

“Stay out of it, Kelc!”

His usual sunny smile fades before he turns to you, and you shake your head. You do not want his help right now. You do not want anything from him. Kelce would probably add more fuel to the fire than not. You glance around, looking for a different kind of help, when you spot a few pogues you know are friends with John B and JJ watching. 

“Top, come on, man.” Kelce tries to reason with him, but Topper shoves him harshly into a nearby table. Kelce stumbles, and you gasp, moving as the chairs crash to the floor and the table overturns. Dishes and glassware shattering turn even more heads. 

“Okay, that’s enough, Topper!” You yell, and he glares at you before shaking his head. 

“No, not until she admits that she cheated on me with that pogue!”

“What pogue?” You question as you try to get between them. You raise your hand to hopefully keep him at a distance. 

Topper glares at you harshly. “You know what pogue I am talking about!” His hand snatches out to grab your wrist. “I’m not stupid, I know this is your fault!”

He squeezes, and you wince, trying to yank your wrist free, but he does not let go.

“Topper!” Sarah stands, her chair clattering as it flies backward. “Let her go!”

“Not until you answer me!” He spits out. 

Before you can think of what to do next, a fist collides with Topper’s face, and he stumbles backward, releasing you. Rafe glares at him. "Don't you ever touch her again!" 

"Rafe," you whisper, hands pressing to his chest. The fire in his eyes could rival anyone right now and you know you had to shut it down quickly. "I'm fine."

Sarah rushes around the table to get between both you and Rafe and then Topper. He looks at you and Sarah as she checks over your injured wrist when Topper does not lunge forward. 

“Did he hurt you?”

“Not really.” You wince as Sarah bends your wrist. “Probably need some ice.”

Rafe glares at Topper. "You know how my dad feels about us keeping her safe!" Topper groans before his gaze flickers over you and to your wrist. "Don't touch her again!" He turns his attention to Kelce as the staff moves in to straighten the tables and chairs back up. “Take him home, Kelce.”

“You got it,” Kelce nods before clasping Topper on the shoulder and leading him out. He goes, pressing his hand to what you are sure will be a black eye now. You turn to Rafe, and he still looks pissed. 

“Were you going to tell me?” He asks, looking at both of you. “Either of you?”

“Tell you what?” Sarah snaps, looking at your wrist still. She stops a staff member passing by and requests ice for your wrist. They hurry off before she turns to Rafe, an eyebrow arching. 

“That you broke up with Topper,” he states before turning to you. “And you are dating a pogue.”

You try to lie with as much bravery as you can. “I don’t know what you are talking about.”

He scoffs. “Hannah told me why you owed her the favor. If Dad finds out, he will put you in lockdown again.”

You groan, you should have known to tell Hannah not to share. “Are you going to tell him?”

Rafe stares at you and you know he is being true to the kook personality as he works to figure out if he should use it as leverage against you.

"You know," you sass at him, "you would think that as my brother you would be happy for me to be getting a bit of freedom, instead of always having to be my protector. It gives you a chance to live your life again too."

Rafe shakes his head. “I won't tell, but I should.”

You exhale and glance as the server returns with an ice pack. You take it with a grateful smile before gently resting it on your wrist. “Will you be joining us for lunch?” You ask Rafe. 

“No, Hannah and I are going for a drive.”

“Ah,” you smile teasingly, glancing over your shoulder as you see the hostess waiting for him. “I can't believe you punched Topper."

"He was hurting my sister."

"Favorite sister," Sarah coughs under her breath and you laugh which makes Rafe smile a little.

"Have fun with a pogue of your very own, Rafe.”

(Chapter Eighteen)

[ducknotinarow]

2k3 Raph Don - 🤪

| Send 🤪to get a drunk text from my muse

The docks of New York were known to harbor many shipping stations, warehouses and much more but as time went on a lot of the area had gone abandoned and untouched. Which worked to the benefit of those of the city that were deemed not suitable for the rest of society. Homeless human sometimes took shelter in the long forgotten buildings but not many stuck around due to the chill in the air the ocean would carry. not to mention risk of weather. The building might fall if you sneezed wrong at them after all. W wave built up due to a hurricane? Yeah may not be the safest or smartest place to hide out at. Sometime drug dealing and other backdoor alley low rate crime actions happened as well but out side all that? They could be pretty empty and quite. Part of why Raphael loved coming here so much. Though in the moment a glass bottle shattered and the laughing that roared out after? Quite was not the word to call it in that moment. Not when two mutants were out and about, alcohol in their blood streams causing nothing but fits of laughter between the pair of them.

Raphael stumbled a bit finding his way back beside Yvonne, "See told ya I could make ya laugh." Raph remarks as he tried to aim a finger at her face but seems to have lost control of his arm in that very moment. Arm swaying a tad and steering away from her.

Taking a few step back till he found the railing beside himself, grabbing on to keep himself from falling over again. Maybe not the person one would right away think right away as a drinking buddy for Raph, but in their odd friendship Raph had found that getting drunk with Yvoone was a hell of a time. Partly it was just fun to watch her usual expressions change and loosen up somewhat when she had some alcohol in her system. Raph turned around as he chuckled more handing over the non-broken bottle he kindly opened up for Von as she stood beside him. Before the turtle looked out to ocean waves. Watching how they the deep blue water wade in towards the beach. Heavy sigh left his beak as he laid his head down to the rails happily watching the water.

"Makes me 'hink of his eyes" he mumbles out a bit, who? Casey who else. Raph loved those ocean deep blues of Casey's after all. Never cared so much for an eye color till he met the guy. How soft they could get or how fierce they pierced someone when mad. Sometimes Raph but it was a tad different when aimed his way. Soon hanging over the railing, he just groans out suddenly, feeling just as dejected as he maybe looked. “ ‘m miss ‘im. Dumb jerk though”

Raphael complains a little a little lovers spat between them being why he was hanging around Yvonne instead. But a drunken mind dose not care for logic nor did one care when it was full of nothing but love. Rolling his head to the side to look at Yvonne who seemed lost in her own thoughts. Quirking his beak a little, Casey and Raph did fight often but mostly that was just how they spoke. This? Nah was an actual fight nothing serious happened just the outcome of two people who are quick to anger bickering till Raph decides fine I'm outta here. Ignore Casey as he stormed away, not like he liked fighting with Casey or anything nor that there was anything necessarily wrong with when they fought. He just had them on ignore right now once he sobered up chances were he'd go and make up with Casey, or if he got more drunk he'd call them drunk and stupid.

“Ya ever ‘ight with Donnie?” He asks. There was an honest curiosity to his question. Sure he and his brother fought with Don. But Donatello was a bit different, him and Leo? Oh, everyone was used to Leo and Raph fights to point it was seen as annoying at best. Him and Mikey? Nah normal as well Raph getting a tad too worked up by Mikey who loved to annoy him. Don and him sort of fought but Don could just be sparky back at times so it was a bit different.

Throw Von in there and how closed off the two could appear to be? Guess it just had him a tad curious to know.

"Case an'I do, not bad ones or serious mostly dumb shit. 'specially when I jus' pissin' 'em off." He smirks a bit "kind 'ike when he all heated up and mad, to a pout he pouts. Kinda wanna kiss 'em when they get 'ike that."

He smirks a little to himself grabbing for his phone now as he moves to attempt and throw an arm around her and take a photo them together. Said image was mostly a blur but you could at least tell who was in the photo.

“ ‘hink Don will ‘Ike this?” He states before he send the photo to his brother.

[text] hey DON stoll ya girl >:) (hey DON stole ya girl >:) l

[text] winded and dinner (wined and dined )

He says chuckling as he let's Von see his Text messages. Of course, Donatello would see his brother was lokely drunk and pranking him again. As always happened when these two hung out together and got drunk. One would think Von would carry the brain cell between but guess being around Raphael make it go away if anything.

[Text] snzze ya ooz (snooze ya lose)

For someone reason this seemed far more funny then it likely was as Raph chuckled a bit more to himself.

[Text] gotta rake rite care if ya girl Don, (gotta take better care of ya girl Don)

[Text] or she gonna get snatched

[Text] don't worry i a good bro and watch her for ya (don't worry ill be a good bro and watch her for you.

"Don' worry babe i got ya see." He chuckles a bit again, at the stupidly used nickname they had for each other. "Ya look 'ike shit though jeez think ya be able to keep up wit' me betta by now toots." Somewhere in his drunk state he knew it might be good to get a call to Don to come at least Yvoone.

"hey its Donnie! Von...oh Donnie Vonnie!" He snort a bit ignore the sound of his brothers voice once they had answered. "Yeah, we at the docks, an' nah we are not drunk. We're fuckin' trashed different things bro." He hums a bit pretending to listen handing the phone to von as he grew bored soon after "here tell gimme ya blow him or somethin' so he chills out." Raph asks Don clearly able to hear since quite wasn't the volume Raphael was currently sent on. Letting his head rest back to the railing well, they dealt with his twin. Only lifting it back up when he hears a mention of Casey's name.

"Sorry ya ca flirt later with 'em." Raph states as he takes the phone back "tell thst booze I aint talkin' ta him till he says sorry got it brainaic!" And of course as reasonable as it seemed Raphael raised his arm and swung it forward letting his phone fly threw the air and promptly land into the ocean. "Yeah 'are there Don! Pft dick. Tryna ruin the fun." As if he hadn't been the one who called his brother. Moving to stand up "come on we gotta motor or they gonna ruin our fun Von."

[sentofighta]

/ / because i found the site that you can build your character in feh style so i gave it a try for sohrab

i tried to base it on lvl 40 robin/reflet. 

his hp not that high nor that low because someone who poison himself on daily basis kind of...survive a little bit more than normal people.

attack could be a bit lower but idk he still has strength my dudes

speed ...he is hella fast because his motto is to never fight if he can escape. useless battles are useless

defense...not that great because he does not bother to train so yeah.

resistance again high because he is an alchemist who dabbles in shit man. 

weapon is Materialization because he mainly uses swords but can create other weapons if he wills it. 

the assist skill is synthesis; he creates a salve, potion whatever to cure who is next to him. not that high ....like 10~15 points.

his special is summoning blades where he summons all weapons he can for a final strike. i say weapons but mainly dozens of poisoned daggers in your face.

Now to the actual background and stuff.

             A wandering alchemist who strives for knowledge.

Basic:

Name: Sohrab

Age: 19

Class: Alchemist

Weapon: Materialized sword

Poison

Effective against low resistance units

World: Awakening

Type: Infantry unit

A half Ylissean, half Plegian young man. Sohrab embarked on his own journey to travel the world and learn what he could find about Alchemy--the ancient dark magic.

Sohrab is Avatar (Robin/Reflet)’s disciple. However, his own world is parallel to the ‘canon’ world of awakening; making Avatar of Heroes world a different Avatar of his own world. 

(For Sohrab, Avatar of his world should be over 20 years old.)

Being summoned by Summoner, Sohrab protested at first, saying he is not meant to join fights and wars but later on reluctantly accept to help as much as he can because there is no other way to return back to his world. Plus, Askr proved to be an interesting place to study, so why not.

verse tag: ⌈⌈verse[heroes]. (sohrab)

Lines

Summoning:

Sohrab…..Let’s make it clear, I’ll help in exchange for information. 

Castle

Where can i nap....?

Please stop screaming every time you see me summoning my sword, [Summoner]. 

....Avatar....but they are not my master....H-huh? Uh, no. It’s me talking to myself.

I hope my parents are fine...

[Summoner], do you know about alchemy? 

Friend Greeting

I can’t believe I was-- *sigh* You are [Summoner]? Great, I’ll help--well, have to help now. I don’t do it for free though. Give and take, i’ll help, you provide me with information. Understood?

Leveling up

[4,5]

...great..

[2,3]

This should be enough..more and it’ll be...

[0,1]

I’m doing my best here. give me a break.

Ally Growth

A bribe? sure. but that won’t make it up for the information I want. 

5★ LV. 40 conversation

...[Summoner], a moment. ...tsk, opening up is not my thing but I have to at least..thank you for everything so far. i know i’m not easy to handle but i never saw our relationships should be developed past mere servant and contractor. I was wrong. Coming here was not a mistake...i have learned a lot by being with you. [Summoner], please continue to teach me more. 

[ddejavvu]

Can we please have a rooster with a cranky pregnant wife

"Bradley," You murmur, voice low so that you can still hear the drone of the television in front of you, "Your foot is touching my foot."

He glances over at you from where he's draped over the couch, leaning back into the corner of the couch. It's true, his socked foot is grazing the pinky toe of one of yours, but he can't see why you're bothered by it.

"Uh-huh," He hums thoughtfully, misinterpreting your annoyance. He prods it forwards, covering your foot with his own where your blanket didn't reach, "You cold?"

"No!" You jerk your foot away from him, shifting positions on the couch so that they're slung the other way, "Don't touch my feet!"

"I'm sorry," He straightens from where he's reclining, brows furrowed as he tries reconciling with you, "I'm sorry, honey. What's wrong with me touching your feet? I've done it before."

"They're sore now." You grumble, tentatively rolling them at the ankle and scrunching your eyes in pain, "My ankles hurt."

"I'm sorry," Bradley repeats, sympathy dripping from his voice. He knows you love him, and that you always will, but when pregnancy pains start aching he's the culprit.

"Y'know if you just kept it in your pants," You gripe, but there's no real disdain in your voice. Hell, he'd had you screaming his name that night, he knows you don't regret it.

"I know, honey." He croons, reaching out cautiously for your hand, "How about I give you a massage? 'Think that'll help?"

You eye him carefully, still half-engrossed in the movie. Your ankles feel dull and spread fire up your legs when you put weight on them, and the notion of even just miniscule relief almost brings tears to your eyes.

"Here," He stands, arms out to invite you into his prior seat, "You watch the movie, and I'll sit over here and give you a massage."

The way he's sitting, facing you in your old spot, means that his back is to the television. He doesn't seem to mind, though, as you stretch out, head lolling lazily against the cushions and feet propped up in his lap.

He gets to work on your ankles, prodding at them tentatively. You wince, and he knows where the problem is, bracing it with one hand beneath your ankle and the other gently digging into the tight muscle there. His thumbs work wonders for your aches and pains, and every once in a while he turns to watch a few seconds of the movie. He hears a familiar joke, then you shake slightly in his hold as you laugh at it. It's a movie you've seen a thousand times, but he looks forward to your giggle at the joke every single time.

His fingers dig at a particularly sensitive spot, and you wince. Your ankle rolls in his hand and out of instinct you pull it away, so he stills.

"Sorry," You breathe, easing your foot back into his lap, "That spot really hurts."

"I'm sorry," He dismisses, fingers ghosting over the tender spot, "This okay?"

"Yeah." You nod, back arching as you shift on the cushions, "Thanks, Bradley."

"Anytime, honey." He promises, a grin on his face that lingers below his mustache, "I'd better get good at this now, huh?"

"Now?"

"Well last I heard from you, you wanted four kids..." He reminds you, eyebrows raised, "Did that happen to change, or-?"

"Yes," You seethe, arching your foot to jab him in the stomach. He lets out an incredulous laugh that borders on terror, but grabs your foot to stabilize it, holding it captive.

"I'm never doing this again," You huff, crossing your arms as he resumes your impromptu massage, "in fact, we're going out and getting more condoms tomorrow."

"I've still got a few," Bradley muses, thinking of the two foil packets in his wallet. There's a couple left over in his nightstand as well, but you hadn't been using them in hopes of pregnancy.

"I want a thousand," You grouch, brows dipping over your eyes as you stare moodily at the television, "Not taking any chances."

[dollwritesarchive]

orgasm denial/overstimulation with bunny & matt? 🥺 i feel like either would fit their dynamic so well!! <33

𝓅𝑜𝑜𝓁 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓈 ⎹ 𝓜.𝓜.

fandom marvel / the defenders masterlist / violent delights au

featuring dark!matt murdock x bunny!reader

rating none of my work is meant to be viewed by minors (anyone under the age of eighteen), and i will happily block any that interact with my posts or my blog.

content warning this is a darkish fic. forced stimulation. suggested kidnapping, manipulation, etc. Matt is a meanie. humiliation and a dash of degradation and dumbification. use of a vibrating wand, a gag and some good old fashioned duct tape, daddy kink, dacryphilia, somnophilia mention.

summary you’ve begged him to let you go one too many times.

word count 1.5k / mini musings

attention do not repost or translate, even with ‘credit’. just don’t do it. reblog instead of like. leave feedback if you enjoyed.

bunny in wonderland writing event!!

you could hear his footsteps approaching, even though they were faint, and you force your eyes to try and focus on the door to the bedroom. you couldn’t do much for the drool oozing from either side of your lips, rubbed raw by the gag fastened tight around your face. a wide, metal ring kept your mouth from closing, your lips aching to seal themselves. you couldn’t stand the way your moans sounded with your mouth wide open like this, like you were actually enjoying Matt’s idea of a game.

you weren’t… were you?

if you could speak, you would scream no. however, your body was telling a completely different story. your thighs quivered, silk panties soaked through, and your eyes kept rolling back in your head whenever you tried to escape the deep, rumbling vibrations of the wand secured to your core. it was futile to squirm, because you only ended up grinding into it, forcing more and more stimulation until you were crying out and drooling on to the sheets underneath you, begging incoherently for mercy.

you wanted to show Matt that he wouldn’t break you, and yet, you already seemed broken. when he waltzes into the room, grinning ear to ear, you imagine he’s been listening to your pitiful moaning for a while now. your teeth clink against the metal forcing your mouth open, and you attempt to angle yourself to look at his figure from your personal hell on his formerly soft, welcoming bed. oh, god, how you used to love when he pushed you on your back and you could sink into these heavenly pillows; you’d feel as though you were floating when he fucked you. but now? now, the silk sheets were soaked beneath you, and you writhed against the duct tape that cinched your thighs together, jerked at the rope on your wrists until the burn brought tears to your eyes.

you try to speak, but it’s breathy and garbled, your tongue flapping helplessly in the gap from the ring, and Matt chuckles. “I didn’t catch a word of that, Bun.” then, take the damn gag off. swaggering closer to the bed, his fingertips dance over your ankle, and you wished you had the autonomy to kick them away. you shudder at his touch, when you used to swoon. “I’ve been listening to you moan like a little whore in here. Did you forget our deal?” Matt clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, hand careening up to slip between your sticky thighs and feel the mess you’ve made of your panties. “Or are you starting to like it too much to remember what I promised?” you shake your head at that, trying to speak again. this time, he quirks a brow. “All right, all right. Let’s get that thing off of your face.” he croons, both hands fleeing to the straps of leather securing the metal to you, and in a moment’s time, he’s prying it from your mouth.

you whimper, feeling your forcibly stretched couplet able to finally relax again, your jaw aching. “H—how long… have I been in here…?” you ask, looking him up and down. he wasn’t dressed for work, but that wasn’t unusual. he had been taking more and more days off since abducting you. the room around you had been darkened, probably so you couldn’t tell what time of day or night it was.

Matt chortles as he sits on the side of the bed, causing you to recoil and attempt to slither away, but the restraints made it impossible. “Feeling dramatic already, are we, baby bun?” he teases, one palm falling to your neck. he hardly squeezes, but pulls you back to your original position, posing you like a doll. “It’s hardly been an hour.”

what? no. that couldn’t possibly be right. you felt like your mind was melting, your entire body thrumming to the vibrations of the wand between your legs, and it’s only been an hour?

he simpers; most likely feeling the way your heart beat faster under his fingers. “What were you expecting, sweetheart? That I’d left you here all day and you’d managed to hold it all in, and now I’ve come to make good on my word?”

“You—you promised…” you whimper, meek. “If I didn’t cum, I could go home.” the words burned humiliation on to your face. there was no one here to see you like this, but you still felt pathetic.

“I did, and I’m a man of my word.” Matt replies, simper barely faltering, he turns, hand running down over your breast. he could never pass up a chance to feel them, so he gave it a squeeze before traveling lower, to the buzzing demon against your throbbing sex. “But, this little thing’s only been on low the whole time. A preliminary to your real test, if you will.” your toes curl, eyes widening.

low?

“P—please, Matt…”

he hesitates, and you can see his finger hovering over the switch. your heart pounds against your rib cage so violently it hurts, and the churning in your stomach is almost too much to take. you had been on the cusp of an orgasm, and somehow managed to fight it back for so long, you feared any more and you would crumble.

“I did— what you said—“ you were panting, now, whether from nervousness or the vibrator getting to you again- you supposed it didn’t really matter to him.

he nods, thoughtful, his free hand caressing your sweat-sheen cheek. “You sure did, bunny. That’s what makes you such a good girl. But, if you really wanted to leave, would you be laying here, moaning like daddy’s good slut, enjoying your little test?” you open your mouth to speak, but only a faint whine escapes it before he hooks his thumb into the inside of your cheek. “Shh, shh. It’s listening time, bun. You’ve been having too much fun edging yourself when you’re supposed to be fighting for your freedom. If you really want to prove to me that you want me to let you go, surely you can handle a few more minutes.”

there’s a click as his fingertip connects with the switch, and the dull whirring gets louder as the rumbling becomes all but unbearable. the weak defense you’ve kept up against your creeping climax shatters like glass, and your back arches. you wanted, no, you needed to get away from the vigorous stimulation. even if you had to inch away like a worm, but in doing so, you only grind your abused sex over the throbbing head of the wand. you cry out, squinting against the power of the toy as it rips the orgasm from your body whether you want it to or not, a pathetic, “No! Please!” before you’re convulsing on the bed, and Matt’s laughing. his hand roaming every inch of you. pinching your nipple, grabbing your throat, anything he can to stimulate you more.

tears leak from the corners of your eyes shut tight, and you imagine that your peculiar captor can smell the salt in the air, because he hovers over you to kiss them away. “Don’t cry, bunny, this is just your body’s way of telling you not to resist me anymore. It needs me, and it won’t let you leave me.”

you try to look away, breathing ragged and wriggling. holding it in for so long, you felt like the failure of the century. you’d cum, whether you wanted to or not had been irrelevant, and now you were so sensitive that your sex felt like it was bruised. it throbbed and screamed for a break. “P—please—“ you sound even more pathetic, and you weren’t sure if that was possible until now. “Just— turn it off!”

but, to your dismay, he doesn’t. a powerful hand grips your face and snatches it back to face him. Matt has since lain on his side, and his lips are inches from yours. “I don’t think so, bun. We’re just now getting to the best part.”

you suck in a hiss of a breath, staring up at him. part of you is relieved he can’t see the helplessness on your face, but you know that he knows it’s there. knowing him, he could probably sense it in the way you breathe. “What?” you ask, dumbfounded. “N—no, please, I can’t take anymore. It’s— it’s too much!”

but Matt’s grin remains, even as he presses a sloppy kiss to your open mouth. “That’s the point, baby girl. I’m going to leave you like this, let the vibrator break you for me, until you’ve cum so many times you don’t even remember your own name, when you’re so braindead and silly that you just lay there and take it. And then,” his thick foredigit pets your cheekbone as he speaks, as if promising you something delightful. “Then, daddy is going to pound your tender, aching cunt until you finally black out.” he croons, pleased with himself and the prospect of torturing you, while you stare at him in disbelief. “And if you ever even think to beg me to let you go again, I’ll do it all over again.”

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

shiver, m | myg

pairing(s): yoongi x reader mentions of jimin x reader, namjoon x reader

summary: Kim Namjoon and Park Jimin set you up after vain attempts to cure your, what they call, chronic high-strung workaholic tendencies. Bleh. As if a date with Min Yoongi is going to help the situation. You aren't going on this date and, even if you did, you wouldn't take him home and fuck him all night. Or admit he was giving you that shiver.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language, slight crack (you tweezed a hair off Jimin's dick); mentions of previous partners and implied smut; smut (fem reader, mild bondage, f-receiving oral, lil bit of a praise kink, doggy); non-idol!AU - music producer!Yoongi x pansexual, softdom!reader, ft best friend and ex-bf!Namjoon, (maybe too) close friend!Jimin, friend!Taehyung

--

“Look, I like dick, okay? The gender attached to it doesn’t bother me. A dick’s a dick and if you want to put it in me, I’m down, and if you don’t and wanna do other stuff, that’s cool too, I’m just letting you know I like dick–”

“Who are you talking to?”

You exploded, rocketing your desk chair backwards, nearly dropping your phone, gawking at the tall, dark, handsome man with the baritone voice standing in your bedroom door, blinking at you slowly with his brown doe eyes and long lashes, black-brown curls framing his tanned cheekbones and strong brows.

“T-Taehyung?!”

Kim Taehyung raised a sculpted eyebrow. “Why were you practicing a speech about dick?”

You clutched your phone, flapping your jaw loosely, pointing to it, to him, to yourself, rambling nonsense.

“There’s this app and I was writing a message to someone and they were worried about – but I wasn’t sure if it sounded right – and what, why are you here…?”

He raised the other eyebrow. “I want to talk to Jimin about something. He said he was going to stop by later so he gave me your key.” He raised his hand and, there it was, your house key. “Said it was fine if I just walked in.”

Park Jimin… said it was fine… to walk into your apartment? Without asking you first.

Who raised this child?!

To be fair, it was fine. You weren’t upset at Taehyung specifically. You didn’t know him as well as Jimin, who was one of your closest friends, but he was Jimin’s best friend. You trusted Jimin’s choice in friends, but, jeez, he really was lackadaisical when it came down to your personal space. He acted like it didn’t exist.

“Ah… okay,” you said, clearing your throat and placing your phone, screen down, on your desk.

“Why is Jimin hanging out here? You guys dating?” Taehyung asked off-handedly.

You nearly choked on air.

“No, we are not,” you snorted, walking up to him. He looked nice. Taehyung always did. He was casually sexy in his green sweater and dark gray pants. He was the kind of guy who could wear anything and look great simply because he walked around with such calm confidence. “I don’t know exactly; he said we should hang out and watch movies because I’m, how did he put it, a chronic high-strung workaholic who needs divine intervention.”

Taehyung nodded, pursing his lips. “True.”

“Excuse me?” you snapped.

He ignored your outburst. “I suppose he considers himself the divine intervention?”

“Uh, well, yeah, I guess, I didn’t think of it like that–”

“You’ve never thought about his dick?”

You blinked rapidly. “What.”

Taehyung shrugged. “I mean, you guys hang out a lot. And you like dick,” he added, gesturing to your phone, to which you abruptly jerked to stand in front of it so it was no longer in his vision. “You might want to consider seeing his dick.”

“I’ve seen his dick.”

Now it was Taehyung’s turn to blink rapidly. “What.”

You raised your hands in innocence. “He had a hair on his dick.”

“… What.”

You scratched the back of your head. “Well, he had a hair growing on the underside of his dick and he couldn’t get to it so he asked me to help, but you can’t exactly pluck a hair when the dick is limp so I helped him get hard and then I tweezed it off and he was very upset, even though he was the one who asked me to do it so I don’t know why he was so sobby about it, but I ended up putting it in my–”

Taehyung was staring at you, slack-jawed.

You stopped speaking, realizing what you were saying.

Your front door opened.

“Hey, Taehyung! Thanks for leaving the door open for me. Where are you guys? Oh, there you are. What are you guys doing?”

You both turned to look at the cheerful, oblivious face of Park Jimin, his previously blond hair freshly dyed black. He must have been at a hair appointment running late. He sent you both a big, beaming smile.

“Eh?”

-

"I need you to do something."

"What?"

Once again, someone needing you to do something. Who would have guessed? Just an endless cycle of people asking you to do things. When is someone ever going to ask you what you want to do? Hm?

Hmph.

He shoved another spoonful of red bean ice cream in your mouth and you continued listening because of it.

"I need you to sleep with Min Yoongi."

You choked and had a mild brainfreeze.

"Just kidding, I only need you to go on a date with him."

Not much better.

You gawked at Park Jimin, who continued calmly scooping out another spoonful of ice cream to feed you. As if this was normal behavior. You missed the blond hair on him. Blond-haired Jimin didn't suggest this kind of random bullshit. Black-haired Jimin was evil. His hair was full of secrets.

You know, that kind of person.

Jimin lifted the spoon and opened his plump lips as if he was instructing a child how to eat. You gave him an indignant scowl and he shoved the spoon in the crack of your open lips. That got him a disgruntled tut.

"Jimin, I'm not library book, you can’t let your friends borrow me when they need to look taken."

He rolled his eyes, all the sass and lacking in class. "That was one time, and you know Taehyungie's ex was a persistent bitch."

"Yeah, I had to slap her, remember?"

Jimin's hair has been black then too, when he asked you to help him. Mmmhmm. Help.

"She deserved that slap!"

"But why did I have to do it?" you grumbled. "You can slap a ho. You don't need me."

"I shouldn't hit a girl no matter how much of a lying, cheating scumbag she is," Jimin puffed, angrily jabbing at the ice cream and shoving it into your mouth. You glared at him. Why was he taking it out on you? He was lucky you loved this brand, otherwise he'd be getting slapped right now.

"Oh, but I should, okay, cool."

"You'd slap anything and call it your bitch."

You were about to retort but then you lowered your hand, frowning. "Okay, true, but that doesn't explain why you're pawning me off to Yoongi now."

"Because you need it."

And you snapped your head around to see Kim Namjoon, your ex-boyfriend, now best friend, waltz into your bedroom like he owned the damn place. You did, in fact, give him your key and you were expecting him, so it wasn’t exactly a surprise, but you complained anyway, because that’s what humans do. Complain.

"Is nothing sacred in my home?" you muttered as Namjoon grabbed your desk chair and rolled it over to the bed, sitting down in front of you and Jimin. You were wearing black pajamas with little cats on them and Jimin was wearing the yellow ones with little dogs on them. Button-up shirt and long pants. Same brand and style, different print. Namjoon, however, was wearing a white graphic t-shirt and loose brown trousers with thin tortoise-shell and gold framed glasses that didn't have any lenses in them.

You were very tempted to poke him in the eye but, alas, you had some self-restraint.

"I thought you were going to talk about this last night," Namjoon mused, raising an eyebrow at Jimin.

Jimin suddenly seemed incredibly interested in getting the perfect spoonful of ice cream. "I got distracted."

"Horny. He means he got horny."

A violently large chunk of red bean ice cream was shoved in your mouth.

Namjoon laughed at your near-death expression.

"Don't tell him," Jimin hissed. "That's fucking weird. He's your ex."

"Then why would you do it?" Namjoon chuckled. "For the record, the relationship is no longer romantic, so I would no longer have a say even if it did bother me."

"I... well..." The younger man sputtered awkwardly.

You coughed and beat your sternum, glaring at Jimin. "The hell was that for? I rode your dick!"

Namjoon seemed highly amused and suddenly invested. "Ah, yes, and then?"

"Well, maybe it would have helped the situation..." Jimin said shiftily, eyes darting about as he turned bright red.

"Helped what?" you grunted, rubbing your throat at the uncomfortable sensation of a half-frozen esophagus.

"Doesn't seem like it helped," Namjoon remarked, placing a hand on his chin, still smiling.

You narrowed your eyes. "What are you talking about? All Jimin was going on about last night was how he hadn't had a good fuck in years–"

Namjoon snorted. "Years? Huh, that's odd, I seem to recall you getting laid four months ago at that party."

"That was four months ago and it was terrible!" Jimin whined, shaking the spoon. "And why are you talking about this with her, ahhhh!"

You and Namjoon shared a confused look as Jimin freaked out and snarfed down the rest of the ice cream, completely forgetting that he was using it as leverage to convince you of his grand master plan.

"Was it nice?" Namjoon inquired, diverting his attention from Jimin’s panic.

"Yeah, it was nice to have a partner who wasn't a complete idiot for once."

"That's good. I'm surprised you didn't ask before, honestly. You two are always hanging out."

"Never thought about it. What about you?"

"Ah, I fucked that girl who works at that coffee shop."

"Oh, yeah, the one with the nice tits?"

"Mmm, unfortunately that's about as much good as you can say about that one."

"That's sad. I'm sorry."

"Heh, no big deal, it'll happen when it happens. Plenty of fish in the sea and all that."

"Can you guys stop doing that thing?" Jimin grumbled from his spot on the bed, clutching the ice cream container and surrounding himself with your copious amount of cat plushies, including your one-meter-long giant calico cat. His ears were still red.

"What thing?" Namjoon asked, tilting his head.

"Yeah, what thing?" you echoed, raising your brows.

Jimin rolled his eyes. "I don't get why you guys broke up."

"Pretty simple reason, really."

"I think it's obvious," you agreed.

Jimin looked from you to Namjoon, frowning.

"Well?' he demanded.

You looked at Namjoon and he caught your eye, trying not to smile. "Oh, he wants us to tell him."

"Huh, kinda seems like it, yeah. A little invasive, don't you think?" Namjoon pretended to think, rubbing his chin.

"He is a little bit of a, how to say this, nosy little brat."

"Hello, I am right here?!"

"That's a little harsh. Perhaps more akin to the local neighborhood bird that's always flying around, intruding on conversations with their loud chirping."

"You are very kind."

Jimin looked livid. He chucked one of your cat plushies at your head and you cracked up, falling to the bed laughing. Namjoon shook his head, laughing with you in that rich, full tone with low depth, a little goofy and with a lot of dimple.

"It's a dumb reason, but basically we weren’t feeling that spark," you explained, sitting up and pushing your hair out of your face. "Sure, we could fuck just fine, but it was too obvious that something was missing. We're better as friends."

"You wanna get married if we're both eighty and single?" Namjoon joked.

"Yikes, if I'm eighty and single, fuck, might as well."

"Perfect, always wanted to know how much libido I would have at that age."

"Anyway," Jimin scowled. "Back to the matter at hand."

"Oh, right, what do you think about Yoongi-hyung? He's single and he’s nice."

You rubbed your nose. “Ah, I don’t know him very well. He’s quiet, isn’t he? I get the impression that he’s a chill and lazy guy. Doesn’t talk much.”

Namjoon nodded. “Maybe you need that.”

You made a face. “Why?”

“You are kind of a chronic high-strung workaholic,” Jimin cut in.

You twitched. “No, I’m not.”

Namjoon nodded sagely. “You kind of are. I would know.”

“Ah, don’t do me like that,” you sighed, admitting defeat.

“Did sleeping with Jimin help?” he prompted.

“Why would that help?”

“Wow, that’s really rude,” Jimin snapped.

“But why would that help me be less of a workaholic?” you retorted, frowning. “I’m not following your logic.”

Namjoon rubbed his chin. “Maybe just a date then. With a calm guy. It will be a change of pace and you can get to know Yoongi-hyung better at the same time.”

You twisted your lips. “Why?”

He shrugged. “I think you’ll like him if you knew him better.”

You frowned.

“I don’t want to be passed around your entire friend group like a hot potato, Namjoon. I’m not going on a date with him.”

-

“Wow, Namjoon, you look a lot like your ex-girlfriend. Is it that new diet?”

Why are you standing here? Why did you agree to this? Why is did people ask you to do things and you do them? Because you were nice, that’s why. Deep, deep down in that frozen glacier canyon you called a heart. Shit. Why couldn’t you just be a bitch? That would make life a whole that easier.

“New diet and a lot of plastic surgery, modelled after the hottest woman I know,” you said sarcastically, turning around to face the deep voice.

“Mmm, I agree.”

You froze a little, seeing Min Yoongi standing there nonchalantly. Black hat with two silver rings punched into it, black leather jacket over a white t-shirt, black jeans with rips at the knees. Nice black boots. Silver hoop earrings and an assortment of silver rings. Yoongi had always dressed well, but it felt strange knowing he still dressed like this even though it was to meet you.

Well, maybe it was just because he was out being seen by people and not you specifically.

“I didn’t know you liked rap,” Yoongi commented, holding up his ticket.

You held up yours. “I like all music. And who doesn’t like Epik High?” You laughed a little. “Funny that you also printed out the ticket. Does that make us old?”

Yoongi shrugged. “I like having a physical copy. For memories.”

“Mmm. Sentimental.”

He looked to the direction of the venue. Then he looked back to you. There was something different in his expression now. You tilted your head. Then you saw his dark brown orbs slide up and down. A strange shiver went up your spine.

Yoongi was checking you out.

And he wasn’t hiding it.

“You look nice.”

You didn’t miss the way the side of his lips curved upwards, giving his words little bit of a dangerous edge.

You looked down at yourself, at the black denim jacket layered over a long black-and-white striped shirtdress. Thick-soled knee-high black boots, because you were going to a concert and wanted to be comfortable. Your mesh silver choker cut into your neck a little from looking downwards. You wore a single ring on your left hand, middle finger.

A silver raven’s skull.

“Ah… should have put forth more effort. You look neater than I do,” you mused, starting to walk.

“Hm.”

You almost didn’t hear his next words.

“If you had put forth more effort, it might have been too risky for me.”

You ticked you head back and found Yoongi smirking at you under his hat, flashing a bit of his white teeth.

“You gonna drink?”

-

“I told you, I gotta drive.”

“I’m not pressuring you. I’m just confused why you would buy overpriced water.”

You clicked you tongue. “Well, they don’t exactly let you bring your own.”

Yoongi chuckled, taking a sip of his beer.

“And besides, you’re buying even more overpriced alcohol, so you’re worse.”

His eyes slid to yours. “I need it.”

You unscrewed the cap and drank the cold water, feeling it ice your veins. “And I need hydration.”

“You don’t drink because you lose control, huh? Control of what, exactly?”

You shifted on your heels. “I get too oppressive. It’s no good for anybody.”

You usually arrived early to these things, so there was time to kill. There were lots of people around, but for some reason it felt like the only person you could hear was Yoongi standing right next to you. The other people around you were only white noise.

“Namjoon and Jimin say you work too much.”

You clicked your tongue. “Namjoon and Jimin need to mind their own business.”

Yoongi chuckled. There was a dry rasp to it, low and sexy. “You still work at that hospital?”

“Yeah. I work on their software. There’s always something wrong with that outdated piece of shit,” you muttered. “Should really just tear it up and overhaul it, but the superiors won’t do it because it’s expensive. Like it isn’t expensive fixing it every five seconds, but okay.”

“Heh, that’s how that generation is. Outdated.”

You huffed. “Mmm, you can say that again.” You cocked your water bottle to him. “You work at the same music company as Namjoon, right? Producer?”

Yoongi nodded. “Mhm.”

You sensed a little bit of embarrassment for some reason. Then you noticed he was looking at your ring.

“You wondering about this?” You turned your wrist and held it up, water swishing behind it.

“You always wear it. Namjoon give it to you?” he asked, taking another sip of his beer.

You shook your head, laughing a little. “Nah. Different ex.” You looked down at it. “And they didn’t give it to me. They said something to me and it stuck with me. When I saw this ring, I decided to buy it.”

You recalled the quote like it was yesterday.

“Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door.”

Yoongi blinked at you.

You translated the English from Korean and he raised his eyebrows.

“Edgar Allan Poe?”

You dropped your hand, clicking your tongue. “Basically saying I was a lingering poison of a human being and they wanted to break up with me.”

Yoongi tutted. “Interesting. How creative.”

You rolled your eyes. “What I get for fucking literature majors during university, I guess.”

“But you brought the ring anyway.”

You paused, looking down at the silver raven skull.

“To remind myself to stop fucking literature majors.”

You looked up at Yoongi and his eyes searching your expression. It was suddenly a weird moment, his eyes so solidly on you, as if he could see everything, but that was impossible. Your skin tingled all over, even under your clothes.

“They were insecure, huh?” he murmured.

You shrugged. “Made me question every fucking interaction I've ever had, wondering if I left the wrong impression or could be misinterpreted or some shit. Everything was so messed up.” You frowned, adjusting your shoulder slightly, sighing out the thoughts of the past. “Ah, it was a long time ago anyway. I’ve already erased them.”

“Is that why you broke up with Namjoon?”

You rolled your eyes. “Why does everybody think there’s some big drama between Namjoon and I? Would we still be friends if there was something that serious?”

Yoongi took another sip. “I think I speak for everyone when I say it seemed like you suited each other.”

“Hah, it’s not that we don’t have similarities. Kind of the opposite, really.” You waved a hand. “You know, two people have certain preferences and one of us was always on the bottom and neither of us liked that. Maybe it was him or me, and I love the guy, but not like that. We could fuck and it would be great, but we both agreed there wasn’t that… feeling. That shiver you get with that person. Sometimes I think we only got together because everyone kept pressuring us, saying we should, and not because we actually wanted to.”

“Hmm.”

The lights dimmed and you turned to face the stage.

“What about Jimin?”

“What about him?”

“Heard you plucked a hair off his dick.”

You twitched. “Let me guess, Taehyung told you.”

“Taehyung told everyone. He was a bit drunk.”

You scoffed, shaking your head. “Jimin’s a great friend, but he’s a bit clingy with me. Always wants to be near someone. It can be good for some people, but I don’t think I could take it twenty-four-seven if we were actually dating. Not my type.”

“Do you have a type?”

You shot Yoongi a look as the crowd began to hum with excitement. “Do you?”

Those cat-like eyes gleamed in the impeding darkness, a flash of white from his open-mouthed smirk.

“I wouldn’t have agreed to this date if I didn’t.”

-

“Did you enjoy the show?”

“Yeah, it was great. Never seen you excited like that, eh, Yoongi?” You smacked him lightly in the arm, smirking. “That’s the most energy I’ve ever seen you have.”

He stuck his tongue in his cheek. His cheeks were lightly pink, although he didn’t seem drunk. “I have energy. I’m just not wasting it.”

“Hmm.”

A short silence as the crowd filtered out around you, but again, even though you were surrounded by people, the only one that seemed to be heard was the man in front of you, peering down at you from underneath his black cap, a small smirk on his lips, tiny flash of pink tongue as he moved it inside his mouth.

“You driving home, yes?”

“Yeah.” You stared into his brown eyes. “Want a ride?”

An eyebrow lifted. “Inviting me to fuck?”

Blunt.

You scoffed. “Nah. I already told Namjoon and Jimin I’m not gonna be passed around their friend group like a hot potato. This was nice though. I enjoyed it.”

He looked you up and down again. That strange shiver went up and down your spine again. He stared you down. You stared back, unrelenting. The world was loud, but this moment was your eyes and his eyes, electricity between them.

Yoongi’s smirk widened.

-

"I always wanted a beautiful woman to tie me up."

Men. Women. Nonbinary. Agender. Gender neutral. Gender fluid. Didn't fucking matter, people were people, and they always wanted shit from you. Always. It was always about what they could get from you and how they could pretend to be what you wanted to get what they wanted. Everyone always looking out for themselves.

You could respect that.

Just, for once, it would be nice if someone wanted to give you what you wanted.

You cracked your neck and looked down at his dark eyes covered in messy black hair, his pale cheeks less pink now, his head on your pillows and sandwiched in between your plethora of cat plushies, pink lower lip in his teeth.

Smirking.

Wasn't hiding a damn thing.

"Who knew you could be a bad boy, Min Yoongi?"

His smirk widened, tongue between his teeth.

"I'm good when I'm good. When I'm bad, I'm better."

His black cap with the two silver rings was somewhere on your bedroom floor and so was his leather jacket, his shirt, his jeans, and his socks. His pale wrists were tied together with red bondage rope. Yours. You were straddling his chest, missing only one article of clothing.

Alright, you were missing socks too.

No one fucked with socks on. If you did, maybe it was time to reevaluate your life.

“You don’t mind being tied up, hm?” you taunted, sliding out of your jacket, tossing it aside.

Everyone wanted something.

What did Min Yoongi want?

Yoongi let his tongue slide out, dancing in the air. Taunting you back before replying.

“Just because you’re tied up doesn’t mean you’re not in control.”

Your hand paused in front of the button placket of your shirtdress. You traced a button with your thumb, slowly, watching his face. Spread your legs more, lowering yourself, hovering over him. You could feel him breathe under you, patient, humming with energy. He flitted the wet pink muscle, skimming his lower lip, waiting. Dark brown orbs hazed with lust under strands of black.

“You wanna stop after sitting on my face, that’s fine, but you have to at least sit on my face.”

You chuckled. “Yeah?”

You sat down on his torso and he sucked in a breath, eyes flicking down to the darkness still covered by your shirt, then back up to your face. You shifted your hips slowly, smearing the hot, dripping softness on his skin.

“Could just… stop here.”

You scooted upward, drawing a fat line of your juices up his chest and to his neck. You knew how much pressure to apply. Didn’t seem to matter though, because Yoongi didn’t seem to give a fuck. He tipped his head back, pressing his Adam’s apple into your throbbing heat and shuddering in pleasure. His gaze found yours and you stopped, suddenly trapped, a moment of his eyes and your eyes, electricity flaring between them.

“I’m glad Namjoon asked me to take you on a date,” Yoongi drawled, deep voice vibrating your heated, wet core from his throat. “Made me feel less guilty about wanting to fuck you.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Got some weird bro code rules or something?”

He smirked. “Oh, I respect him.” He swallowed and you felt a shiver slide up your spine, feeling the action from your throbbing pussy faster than you heard it. “I just want you more.” Exhale, and you felt the warmth against your shirt, making it flutter. You unbuttoned it slowly, one by one. “Want to see the satisfaction on your face when I make you cum.” Slowly, not parting the shirt yet, letting him see the line of exposed skin. His eyes travelled up and down shamelessly, not hiding anything. He noticed you observing him and grinned.

That open-mouthed smirk, teeth and hint of tongue.

“Come on. Give it to me.”

Voice so deep it seemed to be shimmering through you, dark eyes flashing in the darkness.

Teasing you.

“Gonna make you cum so hard, you’ll untie me and beg me to fuck you.”

You cocked a brow.

“Let’s see.”

You sat on his face.

You felt Yoongi’s smirk against your soaked folds for a second before his tongue slid in, instantly making your thighs tense at the sensation. Hot to hot, wet to wet, no, wetter, your hands on your headboard as his tongue curled inside you, thrusting upwards, drinking the wetness from you, low moan vibrating through your torso and you felt his eyes on you, on your shirt slowly opening, one shoulder gliding down, and you shrugged out of it, suddenly boiling, skin pricking from the heat of his gaze, tossing it aside, leaving you in your black bra.

He tipped his chin up and you gasped, feeling his tongue swipe upward, fuck, a smooth, deft motion, circling your clit. You clicked your tongue and rolled your hips into his face. Yoongi chuckled before latching onto it and sending a burning wave of pleasure through you.

Your nails dug into the headboard, making a loud scrape.

He purred your name against your packed nerves and you drenched his chin, glaring down at him.

Yoongi had the audacity to bounce his eyebrow in response.

Alright, you could admit it.

Going on a date with Min Yoongi was not a waste of time.

You grinded against his face and he sucked and licked your clit at the same time, fuck, moans in his throat, not unaffected by you humping his face, but resolute, focused on his task of pleasuring you, shivering as your hand fitted around his head, fingers tangling in his already messy black hair, roughly fucking his face as his tongue assaulted you, somehow the perfect mix of demanding and servitude, hot exhale on your skin, your juices covering his chin and cheeks, your soft thighs pressed against his face, teetering between suffocating and barely enough breath, closer, closer, the tightness rising within you, looking down as you felt your opening flexing against his chin and his eyes flickered up to you instantly, imprinting the memory of his dark brown orbs overtaken by black pupils staring into yours, lips wrapped around your clit, in the midst of pushing you to the edge.

“Fucking shit,” you hissed. “You’re so fucking sexy.”

Something flitted in his eyes and he looked back down immediately, increasing his pace and you moaned, closed fist against the headboard, but not missing his reaction. A slow smile grew on your lips, hand in his hair relaxing, massaging his scalp.

“You like being praised?” you purred, sweet octave to your voice.

The quickest flick of his gaze before licking your clit furiously as a reply.

Hot sparks igniting your veins, drawing in a tight breath, staring down, putting a little more weight on him, but Yoongi didn’t say anything, not even looking at you anymore, so close. You knew it would only take a little more. You could tell from the viscous slickness that was coating his skin that you had maybe seconds left.

“A handsome face and talented tongue,” you breathed. “No wonder I couldn’t resist you, Yoongi.”

His whimper made you tremble in delight, eyes to eyes, addicted to it, him to you and you to him, and you gasped his name, biting your lip and throwing your head back as your hips rocked into his mouth and spilled onto his face with a wet squelch, fuck, so much even you could smell it, hearing Yoongi groan as it filled his mouth, his tongue shoving into your folds and lapping up the rapid pulses, your throbbing clit on the back of his tongue, pressing into you, his nose in your crotch, one of your hands in his hair and one on the headboard, muscles flexing and quivering with the ecstasy, eyelids closing, immersed in it. Savoring the feeling coursing through your body, from your core to your limbs to your head, filling you with shivers that were unlike anything you had ever felt before.

You removed some pressure from his face, letting go of his head, but Yoongi followed, hungrily licking you all over, nipping at your inner thighs, flinches of pleasure extending your high before going back to your pussy, up, down, side to side, drenching you in his saliva and drinking your cum like it was his fucking life force.

Well, shit.

You opened your eyes, panting.

Damn.

You had a whole speech prepared for Namjoon and Jimin about how setting you up with their friends was a bad idea and how they should mind their own fucking business and now you had to prepare a speech about how you needed your house keys back because you were going to fuck Min Yoongi every second of every day and you hadn’t even had his dick yet.

You looked down at him.

Yoongi’s eyes were slightly unfocused, exhaling heavily against your crotch, staring at it.

“Fuck me, you have a pretty pussy,” he muttered under his breath. “Fuck.”

Half of your cat plushies were on the bed and the other half were on the floor.

“You have an excellent tongue,” you chuckled. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

He blinked once and his gaze was on you, half-shyness, half-cockiness, wholly sexy as fuck.

“Didn’t want to make Namjoon feel bad,” he snickered, pink lips shiny with your juices. “You would have left him a lot sooner if you knew.”

You raised an eyebrow.

Something about his tone make you think Yoongi meant it on some level.

You wouldn’t have tried to find out, but now that you experienced it…

Maybe.

“Hey.”

“Hm?”

Yoongi gave you that smirk you were beginning to become addicted to seeing. “That all you want from me?”

You laughed, sly and full.

“No, Yoongi, I’m gonna need your dick.”

-

“I don’t beg, so I’m not untying you.”

“Damn, what a terrible result.”

Yoongi didn’t seem the least bit worried about it.

He sank his nails into your ass and pushed himself in, your hand snaked below to guide him. You weren’t unreasonable, after all. You helped him put on the condom and shoved your tits in his face, rubbing your nipples all over his cheeks, his pink tongue stretching from side to side, eyes on you the entire time, getting harder and harder with the way you manhandled him, moaning into your skin.

Not hiding anything.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he hissed, gritting his teeth, gripping your ass, wrists still bound. He violently smacked his hips into your ass and you grinned, hands now on the bed.

“Mmm, what a nice…” You pulsed, making Yoongi groan. “Hard.” Again, hearing his ecstasy. “Cock.” He scraped your ass and up your back, gasping for breath, desperation in his touch. You turned your head, giving him the reflection of his own smirk. He gazed back, eyes glazed over, torso shuddering from the repeated massaging of his length buried in you, all from your muscle control.

“Hold on, Yoongi.”

Something between teasing and adoration, and you visibly saw Yoongi tremble in excitement.

“You got it.”

You turned back and sank your hands into your pillows, sliding on his stiffness and ramming yourself back onto it, making both him and you groan in unison, rough, deep strokes of visceral fucking, you commanding the pace. Didn’t matter if you were the one on your hands and knees, you used him and he wanted to be used, barely able to grip your waist, moaning your name and fucking you back, loud, sloppy smacks of ass to crotch, flexing your shoulder blades akin to a lioness on the prowl chasing their prey, and you heard Yoongi chuckle, breathing swallow and euphoric.

“Look at this back view, fuck, you are the sexiest woman alive.”

Breathless with desire, smug at having you, in awe of your prowess, all at once, clutching the small of your waist as you clenched around him, the shudders of your walls closing in, painting his crotch and balls with you, his quivering moan trapped in his chest because he could barely get it out. You caught your lower lip between your teeth, feeling him fill you as you pushed back, the rush immeasurable, unfathomable, anchoring your palms into your mattress and growling his name, the smacking of hips to hips, desperation to desperation, a brief reprieve as you snatched a cat plush and jammed it under your chest before you reached back and felt for the end of the rope, unlacing the knot with ease, and Yoongi yanked his wrists free with a swift hiss of satisfaction, grabbing your ass and fiercely fucking you, harder, rougher, just as much for him as it was for you, your name falling from his lips, unable to hide his lust, chasing it, chasing you, and you didn’t let up.

“Yoongi, fuck, yes, your cock feels so fucking good, fuck!”

Deep, intense, powerful, everything you were and everything he was, and it all crashed down, stealing your breath, pleasure clawing up your spine and taking over, lungs suddenly emptied with the force of each hard pulse of pleasure snaking upwards to fill the void, squeezing him so hard that you weren’t sure if that was voluntary or not, your joined inner thighs trembling and dripping, sweet slickness sliding down, drenching you and Yoongi, his groan piercing the air and cutting through your thoughts. His cock twitched and jerked, pumping thick gushes of cum and swelling the condom inside you.

Fucking shit, did you hold your breath? Everything lightheaded and hazy, reaching up and slapping your hand against the headboard, sucking in a lungful of air and rocking your hips back, riding the wave. Your felt Yoongi’s grip on your waist tighten, his pants so heavy you could feel the weight of his exhale on your back, heating your skin.

Snarl in your throat, definitive.

“I need this cock, Yoongi, need you and this perfect cock and I’m going to use it until I’m done.”

Rolling your hips, listening to his wanton moan at your words and the sensation, the messy squish of your movement, clenching around the sensitive head, slow, tight, your fingers curling to a fist, his name on your lips, low and seductive, and he responded in kind, your name in the same tone, drunk on the moment, the feeling, the power you had over him.

His nails in your back, creating long lines down your spine, and the shiver you got with that person, dancing up and down your vertebrate, unmistakable.

Yoongi gave it to you.

-

“Hey, so how’d it go–whoa!”

You popped your head out of your mountain of cat plushies and glared at the offender who burst into your bedroom. Who the fuck was that?

Guess.

“Jimin, do you know what personal space is?” Yoongi muttered from beside you, lifting himself on his elbows to peer disapprovingly over your naked shoulder.

“He doesn’t,” you mumbled, flopping back down.

“So… went well?” came Jimin’s cheerful and teasing voice from the doorframe.

You heard a cat plush get thrown like a cannonball.

“Ow, fuck, okay, I get it, hyung!” Jimin cackled, stumbling down your hallway. “I’ll come back later!”

“Don’t,” Yoongi snapped back, grumbling as he slid back down on the bed.

“You better pick him back up later,” you warned, referring to the plush.

“You dumped half of them on the ground so we could sleep.”

“No, they fell because we were fucking.”

You opened your eyes to see Yoongi smirking at you. There was a cat plush next to his head. One of your favorites. You picked it up and bonked him in the head with it. He made a disgruntled grunt and flinched away from it, ending up closer to your face. Eyes to eyes, electricity between them. You smirked, matching him, leaning in, arm curving around his head.

Tapping the tuxedo cat plush on his shoulder.

His breath against your lips, lust and fondness, not hiding anything.

“Hey, Yoongi.”

“Hm?”

Playing along, a willing participant in your games, one eye open, as if he was winking at you.

“I like you. You’re mine.”

He chuckled, a little raspy, a little embarrassed, and a lot amused.

“Sit on my shoulder, my raven. I’ll never ask you to leave.”

--

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