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shehungers · 18 days ago

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PESTIS

plague doctor monster x reader | 18+ | 3.7k

after the doctors in your town burn the bodies of plague victims, a mysterious cortège of black wagons begins visiting once a month. the one who leads them, great death, asks you what your deceased husband's soul is worth to you, and the result of it begins a convoluted spiral.

story warnings; dead dove do not eat, sexual content, major dubcon, kinda implied size kink?, size difference, his ejaculate is not sexily described lmao, extreme body horror + grotesque details, graphic depiction of gore (at the end), kinda-sorta cannibalism?, mc is pretty shitty in this, murder, disturbing details all around, bodies are burned, frightening imagery, prose + detail heavy, this is a bit of an exploration of greed + touches on some relevant events if you can figure out the parallels, plays with the idea of humans having actual souls, roughly proofread, don't look too much into inconsistencies lmao just have fun.

muted divider by @/anlian-aishang

a/n; originally, this was supposed to be >1k as part of a personal challenge where ppl could vote on a poll for what genre i'd write a piece for. horror won.

thanks to @shouyuus for shoving this prompt from @/deepwaterwritingprompts in my face. this piece followed the prompt very loosely, but still!!

pls share your thoughts + reblog this! it really means a lot to support writers, guys 💙

All anyone knew was that he was called Great Death, and he led a cortège of black wagons with black lace across the windows into town square for one night, once a month.

The procession’s arrival was announced by clopping hooves from skinless, skeletal steeds and enormous wheels jolting across the cobblestone terrain, of which the very foundation of the town had been built on top of. Even though they moved slowly, precisely, in a single line of synchrony, their sound was one of continuous rolling thunder; the roaring fireplaces where all of the bodies were incinerated.

Your husband had been reduced to human soot in one of them, but you weren't allowed to know which one.

No one was.

The doctors had argued it was to prevent grieving families and grave robbers from clawing through the ash in search of bones, scraps of clothing, or valuables discarded with the bodies of nobles. But, none of that made any difference as there was greed and loss, far too much of it to keep people out of the fireplaces and from digging and stealing and reclaiming.

You hadn't been so driven to search for your husband’s things because you still possessed more wealth than he had been burned with. He had been blistered with black and purple pustules of infection and plague before he died, so you feared that breathing him in (breathing anyone in) would fill your lungs with them (with him) and kill you, too.

My love, this is your color!

But, that did not mean that you did not grieve, because you missed the beauty that he brought to your life. You missed his gentle wit and loving mind, how he always sent you exquisite clothing from wherever in the world he had gotten to now.

Every color was your color, in his eyes. And, every piece he had delivered to you became a part of your collection of things. An opulent display of his devotion and good status to show to your friends, anyone sitting with you for quaint tea and distantly sourced food untouched by the town.

- Samuel

Meeting Great Death had come long after the burning of plague bodies, now hushedly called The Incineration, and months since the cortège had first appeared during each waning crescent.

The wagons had filed into town with their thunder, pulled by dead horses that made the ground shiver under your feet. Many townsfolk, including yourself, had been roused by the commotion and hurriedly made themselves decent to check outside. It became a spectacle of groaning complaints, white nightdresses, and bright orange lantern light floating midair in bloodless fists.

All light was to the wagons, which had formed a tight, silent ring around the poisoned fountain spouting brown plague water, and the disoriented chatter had ebbed into anticipatory shushing.

Then, the townsfolk jumped, as the windows with their blackout lace fell forward as though forced from the other side, landing flat like a countertop. The darkness beyond the windows was as dark and dense as it was infinite, smothering pulsing glows from the lanterns as some fearless men awkwardly inched closer to the wagons.

“O’ woe! Tragedy! Tragedy has befallen your home! It has taken your friends and family. It has crushed your souls and stolen theirs. But, have no fear, for we have come to return what once was yours!” said Great Death from somewhere within the throng of wagons and wet skeleton horses.

“What are they worth to you? The souls of your dearly departed. What are they worth to you? To be reunited with those that you loved so dearly and so terribly lost. Wouldn't you do everything you could to have them back? Pay any price? Come! Come! Come all! Let us speak!”

And then, bone-white beaks and hollow eyes emerged from the darkness within the wagons. Each window filled with these spectre merchants; frightening monstrosities in black cloaks and wide-brimmed hats and long fingers pushed into leather gloves.

One townsfolk had communicated what you, what everyone else had thought seeing them, “What are the doctors doing? Haven't we suffered enough because of them? They've burned everyone we loved, and now they're trying to sell them back to us as souls? This is madness!”

“They are not our doctors! Look! Look!” wailed another; a paranoid man, “those are not masks. Those beaks are bone and skin. They are demons coming for the rest of us! Run! Run for your lives! Seal your doors! Hide!”

You were pulled along with the scattering crowd, the dispersing lantern light and slamming doors, but you did not flee inside as everyone else had. Instead, you were coaxed back towards the wagons by a leathery hand and nodding beak gesturing for you to come close.

The wagon was larger than the rest, as was the creature leaning out of the window. There was fleshiness to his long beak, waxen with green veins that throbbed in the swaying light.

Great Death looked at you with nothing eyes, and nearly bent his head sideways onto his shoulder as if his true stature were cramped inside of the wagon. When he spoke, he did so clearly, even without his beak splitting into halves like separate jaws.

“How joyous! You didn't run away. Your grief must be immeasurable. Please, come even closer to me. Come here. Yes, yes, what a lovely thing you are.” Great Death giggled in delight of your obedience, or your foolishness. “You do not wear rags. You are well groomed. You possess no healthy amount of suspicion, yet I suspect you are still mourning someone. Who might it be? You can tell me. Who? Who?”

You sensed he was mocking you with that jaunty voice of his. He asked you like someone who already knew a secret, but who'd wanted to hear the great revelation straight from the source.

“My husband.” You told him. “He was a wealthy merchant who owned many ships. He sailed for more months out of the year than he was home. He could've found someone else far more beautiful, more handsome than I, but he kept me. He always came home.”

Great Death stayed at his sickly angle with his head as he leaned out the window further, both hands grasping the edge of the window-countertop. “Ah, I see. And I assume that this wonderful, merchant husband of yours succumbed to the plague? Yes. Yes, he burned with the rest, didn't he?”

“He burned with the rest,” you said.

“A hideous shame! You do have my condolences. I must ask, have there been any other cases of plague since The Incineration?” His gloves scuffed as he fluttered his fingers outward, away from you and towards the lightless houses and barricaded doors. “I won't hear an answer from anyone else, as you know.”

You couldn't hold his empty gaze, those sockets of penetrating black and looked over his shoulder, hoping to see inside at something.

Somewhere far, somewhere deep, you noticed a faint glow. Tiny hums of light blinking in and out of existence like fireflies. Little sentient creatures with will and action of their own. But, these were colors: mostly bright white, some were yellow and orange, and a few were searing white-blue.

“No,” you said, at last, remembering the question, “there haven't been any more cases since the burnings. Since—”

“The ships stopped sailing.”

“Yes.” you said.

Great Death then withdrew into the darkness of the wagon with his crooked neck and leathery hands. You considered leaving for your home, padlocking the doors and pushing furniture up against them because it was clear that this creature—all of these creatures—harbored no good intentions.

They were not your doctors who had incinerated hundreds of bodies, claiming it as necessity; saying that there was no other way to protect the rest of the town. At the time, houses quarantining the sick had been forcibly broken into by the doctors and other men in masks and gowns. They offered no apologies, no desire for absolution, no mercy.

The plagued were dragged from their deathbeds, their salt baths, their favorite chairs and out onto the streets with no dignity, in whatever way they'd been found. They were taken to the fireplaces, thrown inside those great, lashing lion flames and died screaming as they became smoke and ash. Outrage only came after as it had all happened so quickly, no one had expected it.

The doctors had said nothing. Offered few sympathies, yet promised that this sacrifice, this purge, had saved the rest of the town. That there would be no more plague.

Sometimes, the fireplaces still wailed, but not how they'd had then.

“What is your husband's soul worth to you?” asked Great Death, now back in his window with his sideways head and hands clasped on the countertop.

He'd been there for a while, it seemed. And you were still standing in front of his wagon, instead of being tucked away behind the safety of locks and walls.

“You—do you have him in there with you?”

“Oh, possibly,” he said, calm and unrevealing. His hands lightly thudded on the window-countertop, rattling the glass that it was made from. “I have a little bit of everyone in here, I suppose you could say. What is your husband's soul worth to you?”

You said nothing because how could you measure the worth of a soul? Did a soul cost as much as your vast wardrobe? Did it cost as much as your house? Was it worth the same one of your legs, or a cluster of pubic hairs cut with a razor?

“Do you think his soul is worth your fortune?” Great Death saw your stricken expression just then and let out a breathy laugh. A satisfied laugh. “Is he worth you giving up your clothes? Your house? Your comfortability? Do you love your husband enough to live in rags for the rest of your life?”

You rushed up to his countertop and grabbed his hands with yours. For once, your heart was beating something awful, foul with hot-cold dread that felt wet under your skin. “I—what else is there? What else would you be willing to take? Anything else?”

Great Death was terrible up close, freezing to the touch. Pale. Dead. Not of this realm. The air around him was dense, stagnant, like it had a breath to hold. It simply did not move in his presence. The feeling of his fingers wrapping yours then, pinning them to the countertop, suffusing you with his cold and his darkness made your neck hairs stand upright.

He was enjoying this.

“I will consider it a fair exchange. Everything material that you hold precious in exchange for the man you love. Wouldn't you say that sacrificing your wealth would be worth it if it meant reuniting with him?”

“I've earned everything that I have after a lifetime of scraping around the slums. I will not return to that,” you said, low in your throat, borderline vicious. “Anything else?”

He let out a windy sound, perhaps a breath, or hum that meant he knew too much. His thumbs, much larger than your own, caressed the peaks of your knuckles, stroked the backs of your hands and pressed down on your veins while he contemplated.

“Come inside, then. Just around the corner.” Great Death moved his slanted head slightly right, indicating a black door at the rear of the wagon, which had been camouflaged by the inky dark. “I'll open it for you. Come along. Come. Come.”

The interior became familiar to you each month thereafter. But, you would always remember how disoriented you'd been first stepping inside of the commodious space filled with all manner of things vile, fascinating, and mystifying.

Great Death was able to fix his neck when he wasn't hunkered by the window that reached only waist-height on him. He and the rest of the soul vendors were like afterimages of each other, seemingly indistinct, grayer, when you stared at one long enough and then looked to another. Great Death, however, came with a heavier beak that curved more sharply; a carrion face capable of tearing through your viscera.

He was one with the semi-darkness, his shapeless silhouette a seamless mesh with air and shadows, of which the yellow tallow candlelight did not fully reach. When he moved, it was swift, inescapable; he glided rather than walked, and you could only follow his pallid features appearing to float midair.

“Forgive me for the mess, it is so rare that I have guests come inside to visit me. Transactions are better done outside, after all,” explained Great Death, already unfastening, untying, disrobing you, and laying you out on a wooden slab of a table. “My, you are lovely, aren't you? I wonder if what I see is what your husband saw in you as well? Ah, that is unlikely.”

You bled on his cock that night as he savagely fucked you into the table. His nothingness had been moved away, parted in halves to reveal gray and blackened purple hardness. An emaciated belly of similar tones was eye-catching and harsh and familiar, but a view which became unimportant as he impaled you, yanked your head back by hair closest to your scalp, and forced your gaze to the ceiling.

There, you watched the serpentine emptiness coil across the ceiling of the wagon, watched the formations in the wood grain come alive with writhing, yawning faces that never lasted long enough to know if they were speaking to you, because Great Death thrusted too hard, made you cry, bleed more, but you didn't tell him to stop.

This was the price you were willing to pay. So, you laid beneath him motionless, sore, regretting your own stubbornness for just a moment until he let out a shuddering breath of release, rutting you with his cock still twisted with your insides. He flooded your walls with cum that felt wrong, gluey, membranous. It oozed out slowly once he removed himself, the pain of him having been there was worse now that there was nothing left.

“Even I experience lust and crave a human’s touch, their soft flesh. Humans are an indulgence we are rarely afforded. Souls, well, as you can imagine, cannot do much,” said Great Death once cloaked in his darkness again. He redressed you, starting with the sleeves, and helped you off of the table with encouraging pats to your lower back. “I greatly enjoyed myself. Thank you for this exchange.”

“My husband's soul, I want it.” Now, as he ushered you towards the end of the wagon, towards the black door concealed in staticy shadows, you ached in countable pulses. “Give it to me.”

Great Death giggled, pressed his hands down onto your shoulders, and nuzzled his lethal beak against your neck.

“Come back to me next month.”

And, that's how it went on from there on out. Each month during the waning crescent, a persistent bright and sharp sickle in the sky, he led the cortège into town square and allowed you through the threshold into his sacred place. He serviced no others in town, but had expressed certain morbid appreciation to you, saying that because of your brazenness, more of the vendors were being skittishly approached by those deluged in grief and delusion.

“Oh, oh, oh, how joyous, my lovely.” He fucked you on the floor as he spoke, ramming you cruelly, until you whimpered and moaned. You wondered if he was trying to make you scream. “What a boon you've become to us all. They're all so happy. Your people. Mine. The souls. None are so happy as me, though.”

Before he'd penetrated you again, before he'd let you through the door, he met you at his window-countertop and asked, “What is your husband's soul worth to you? Have you considered letting go of your fortune? My lovely, you know that you cannot possibly take it with you once you perish and rot, yes?”

Always frightened by the thought and obstinate, you let him have you in whatever way he pleased. The pain eventually washed over with numbness. At times, his long strokes against your walls felt good, and occasionally you would come on his gray and purple cock. Focusing on how thick he felt inside of you, and the white streaks of lightning crackling behind your eyes.

Without fail, he flooded you and made it stay for a short while as if relishing your prolonged discomfort and disgust that he was still there. It would leak slowly, abnormally, as he redraped himself. Concealed his sallow body with protruding ribs, jagged angles, and dark slits spread throughout.

He was corpselike; he looked like rot. His rot inched out you for days after he was long gone, and then the sickness would set in. Red hot fevers and bone cold shivers kept you bedridden for weeks, tended to by cautious maids unsure what to make of your recurrent episodes.

Nothing showed, but you felt festering beneath your skin. Unexplainable in that you saw no such lesions, no lumps lurking in the layers of your anatomy. But, you soothed and scratched yourself like something was there. The maids were worried that your grief had made you spiral into hysterics, and they considered calling one of the doctors to your bedside.

“I will ruin all of you if you bring one of those—those murderers into my house!”

At these times, you could not be reasoned with. There was too much itch, too much sensation, too much boiling under flesh and bone, too much crawling, too much pain, too much hunger, too much vomiting, too much too much too much too much too much…

“What is your husband's soul worth to you?” Great Death had returned during the waning crescent, said you looked unwell. “Will we continue our exchange as we usually do? I am not opposed, you know that. I am very fond of you, my lovely. Come inside.”

You were fragile and fatigued from fighting illness, so it didn't much matter how hard he fucked you into the floor. Skin slapped and moistened with fluids and sweat, and Great Death’s moans broke the stillness in the air.

“Oh, my lovely, I look forward to coming to this town because I know that you're waiting for me.” He said it dreamily, like in reminiscence of a bleary, beautiful memory. A faded photograph lost between pages of a book of someone once loved. “Perhaps I see a little of what your husband saw in you. No. No, I see deeper than he ever could. I see through you into your core. I see your soul. Oh, how hideous it is.”

His body was revealed to you. The dark slits which covered him twitched and opened wide into tens of dozens of pupiless black eyes, and lipless mouths with needle teeth. Purple-red tongues lashed out of the mouths at you, making you scream and struggle beneath his weight.

“This wasn't part of the exchange! I just want my husband’s soul!” you pleaded, searing with panic through every ounce of your being. “I'll give you it. I'll give you everything. My clothes. My house. My fortune! It's all yours!”

His fucking had slowed, stopped entirely as a bullous, flickering light had drifted out from some hidden places in the depths of the wagon. It was gently orange at its center, emanating a pale aura outward, which pulsed like a heartbeat and buzzed with familiar warmth.

You thought to reach for the doomed little thing destined to be smothered by the dark. All light eventually was.

“He's waited for you all along, my lovely,” said Great Death softly. He followed the floating marvel with his nothing eyes as it circled your joined bodies. Eventually, it came close enough to snatch out of the air and snuff out in his leathery fist. “Yes, such a beautiful soul he was. I no longer want it.”

Your breath snatched in your throat, mouth agape. Shock had invited in a swell of watery cold that made you unable to truly acknowledge what had just happened. That you'd lost your husband for a second time; this time forever.

There was no telling smear of blood or glittering orange residue in his open palm when he showed it to you. It was as if it had been a brilliant trick of extinguishing candlelight without a trace.

“Your soul is most foul, but it will be my prize. My lovely, for as long as I find you beautiful and repulsive, you will live on. Yes. Yes, I'll keep you here with me so that I may always be able to admire you.”

Before you could've launched yet another scream into the immense void of the wagon, he thrust his carrion beak into your chest. He wedged it deep through your muscle and blood, piercing cartilage and bone to reach your heart.

Great Death used his hand to rip out the throbbing, glistening organ from the rest of you. He observed blood filling the cavernous well he'd left inside you, saying nothing as it backed up your throat and spilled profusely from your mouth. Once you died, the bright red that had stained your teeth darkened to exquisite purplish-red.

He tore your heart apart into consumable pieces and fed them to his mouths. The piranha teeth and long, licking tongues chewed eagerly; meanwhile, the eyelids on his body closed knowing that the mouths would soon be sated by the decadent meal.

Thereafter, he waited.

He waited for a long time, because souls were oftentimes more timid than their human husks. There was nothing left to protect them from vendors on the prowl, vendors who had built collections across millennia.

But, eventually, your soul did appear before him in stuttering pink light. He caught you easily, let you rest in his hand while he decided on which jar he owned could possibly be enough to house your beauty.

You would turn sinfully red as you matured, became strong, forgot who you used to be.

All you would know is the Great Death and the inside of his vast wagon littered with strange things. He would be kind to you by letting you out of your jar sometimes, but for now, he'd keep you on the middle shelf where he could best see you.

a/n: I have this habit of killing husbands or doing awful things to them and I am very unapologetic about it.

anyway. this wasn't executed quite as well as I'd hoped. but, I wasn't writing to perfection, it was just a little personal challenge for myself. overall, I'm not unhappy with it.

I'd like to bring great death back again in another piece sometime, if y'all are interested.

this was also the first time where I think I've actually, deadass killed my reader-character and it felt so good lmao. I've implied in several of my stories without making it explicitly so.

anyway!!! I'd still love to hear your feedback and would absolutely adore you if you reblogged!!

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revelboo · 2 months ago

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REEVVEEELLLL

That Rumble fic DESTROYED ME. If you can or want to I NEED a part 2.

Bringing that sucker home and trying to sexily help take off his 'costume' but we find out 'HOLY MOTHER OF FUCK THATS A REAL ROBOT'

Thank you dear author xoxo

Hi! Rumble’s fic is an ongoing storyline. I’m just trying to go back and create proper first chapters for some of my fics

Alcohol Eyes Pt 10

Rumble x Reader, Frenzy x Reader

• Loading up plastic totes with clothes, food, anything you might even possibly need and a lot of crap you probably don’t, because what do you even pack to move in with your two alien boyfriends who as far as you can tell are hiding from the government? And they’re both adding stuff to the totes every time you’re not watching them. You’ve already had to remove the manual for your fridge, a TV remote, and a stuffed tiger that had somehow escaped the purge of anything your ex had given you. That had been a fun little bonfire. “What do we say again?” Frenzy asks as he lifts one tote and Rumble grabs the other.

• “We’re filming a TikTok video and you’re cosplayers. Not aliens,” you say with a little frown as you look around your home. And Rumble really hopes you’re not having second thoughts about agreeing to go with them. “I think that’s it.” Turning, you flash him that same mischievous little smile you’d given him in the club right before you’d pulled him down for a kiss. The one that goes straight to his spike. How far out is Thundercracker? They might have time for a quickie. But you’re opening the door and he groans and dutifully follows you outside instead of bending you over the kitchen counter. Figures the Seeker probably wouldn’t appreciate them fragging in his interior, either. “Your guy is meeting us in the park?”

• Their guy had been annoyed that they’d commed him, words clipped and angry. Trying to blow them off with an ‘I’m busy,’ before finally relenting. Shifting the box in his hands, Frenzy follows you in Rumble. They’re going to owe the Seeker for this, but it’s at least delaying the inevitable. Explaining to the boss that they’re keeping you. And that they need their own habsuite now. “Said he would. He’s usually good for his word,” he says. Grinning widely at an elderly human walking a tiny little dog that yaps at them as disapproving as its owner. Primus, that human must be thousands of years old, skin sagging and bunching, hair gray and fluffy. Hears your cheerful excuse the old lady didn’t even ask for as the woman hurries her little dog away.

• Cutting across the street and through the woods to get to the park and avoid running into anyone else, you tug your coat closer around yourself. You’d dressed a bit nicer than normal since you’re kind of like a human-alien dignitary. Though, dignitaries probably aren’t supposed to be fucking the other diplomats. Or maybe that’s normal. Furthering human-alien relations one orgy at a time. You’re like an explorer discovering uncharted territory. And you stop short. “Is that a fucking jet?” Just in the middle of the woods?

• “Meet Thundercracker,” Rumble mutters as the Seeker transforms and kneels to stare at them in dismay. Aware of how much sleeker and powerful the Seeker looks compared to them. ‘You didn’t say anything about a human. Why is there a human?’ The Seeker growls and Rumble shifts the box to one hand and hooks an arm around you. “This is our mate.” And the Seeker vents, servos lifting to press to his helm when you wiggle your fingers at him before curling into Rumble’s side, attention firmly on him instead of Thundercracker and that little flicker of jealousy fades. ‘Why not,’ Thundercracker groans, reaching for the totes to subspace them. ‘Soundwave has no idea, does he?’

#transformers x reader #rumble x reader #frenzy x reader #idw frenzy #idw rumble

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pyreo · 1 year ago

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handful more dunmeshi thoughts:

I like how their ability to cook is cumulative. they still have stock or leftovers from previous episodes making each meal more varied or better balanced, it honestly feels super enriching having solid evidence that their situation improves the more they experiment.

I like that the main party are immedaitely shown to be veterans of exploring this dungeon, and were fully expecting to comfortably handle the final boss. They're familiar with the layout and overall logic of the place, and how to co-exist as a diverse group.

I like that it's not horny. I mean yeah there's the dwarven upskirts but that just feels like realism. I know there's some kind of yuri bathroom thing but we've been told since episode one that is based on deep-seated emotions. what I mean is nobody is drawn sexily, nobody is getting gratuitous fanservice for no reason, nobody is lusting over other characters. there were even sirens and the opportunity was not taken to draw them like sexy temptresses. All things considered, they are in a work environment. I enjoy this, everybody has more important things to do.

It's based on dungeons and dragons/roguelikes/RPGs obviously, but in a loose method that doesn't get hung up on itself. Also the problems they solve are always realistic/a matter of pragmatism or efficiency rather than having to be more powerful than something else. solutions are based on critical thinking (good example - making a flail out of a vial of holy water because ghosts pass through the glass and get smacked by the water)

An extention of that, it's fun how much logistics and realism form the basis of their problems. Nothing is handwaved. The central dilemma is staying fed and that is a challenge. They can't cross a hall of water in a boat, because two of them wear heavy armour, and would sink. They do not even leave sightlines of each other without informing someone else where they're going, so the alarm will be raised if they don't come back. They're all capable in their own ways and this directly leads to solutions requiring group effort.

also look at these marcilles

#dungeon meshi

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slutofpsh · 11 months ago

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moth to a flame | psh.

pairings: park sunghoon x reader

synopsis: like a moth to a flame, you kept coming back to park sunghoon even though his flames can burn you.

wc: 3k

warnings: smut, mention of cheating. dni.

the continuous slapping of your skins are making a sound so erotic adding to the heat you are feeling with your bodies linked together. the bed squeaked while your hand gripped hardly over the sheets. your eyes shutting tightly because of too much pleasure that sunghoon is making you feel at the moment.

“stay fucking still, pretty.” sunghoon grunts.

"oh my-" you couldn't even finish your sentence as your body starts convulsing after reaching your second orgasm. your mouth slightly hanging open, doesn’t even give a fuck if there's drool coming out. mind too clouded over pleasure as he hit it from the back deliciously.

sunghoon groaned rutting his cock even deeper to your hole as he try to catch up on you. he smirks then bit his lower lip, canine showing then slap your butt once. the view of it jiggling as he hardly thrust turns him even more. he leaned down placing a wet kiss at your shoulder before turning you around, making you lay on your back this time.

your eyes met while you're both catching breaths and the view of him staring down at you, eyes filled with so much lust, just makes your hole twitch in anticipation.

you shake your head when he shamelessly licked his hand before starting to give slow strokes to his dick, aligning it to your entrance once again. hole so wet with your cum mixed together. it felt so dirty, but for some reasons, you like it. you like it so much.

"i c-can't anymore." you whined and hand stretches in attempt to push his hand away. it was no use because he easily shoved it away, eyeing you fiercely for trying to stop him from having his sweet pleasure.

“one more, baby." he says using his husky voice and easily slides in you again, hands gripping your hips so hard that his big veiny hands will surely leave prints.

the sensation of being filled by his thick cock makes your cunt excited, squeezing and suffocating it.

"just one more..." he mumbled, like as if trying to remind himself that you two needs a break too. he follows it with a low grunt as he started to thrust harder and faster again.

you moaned, starting to feel all your energy draining out of you. feeling too much from being overstimulated and exhaustion already kicking in. you two had been at it for hours already and sunghoon's stamina is just crazy. you could never get into his level, but there’s no way to tell him off because damn, does it feels so damn good. so damn good. nothing can ever beat this feeling.

his lips searches for yours and started kissing you messily. his hand gripping tightly over your jaw making you stay still as he devoured your lips. not giving you any chance to pull away, if you even plan on doing so. he bit your lower lip, making a moan errupt softly from it.

“ugh..” lips falls open giving him a clear entrance for his tongue. he didn’t waste any time and let his explores yours, tongues dancing with each other.

sunghoon's a good kisser, very good even. with the lips so perfect it would be such a waste not to put it in good use. your makeout sessions is always great.

but whenever he's so drunk with lust his kisses became so wet and dirty, just how you both love it.

"hmmp-" moan came out muffled because of his lips still attached to yours. a knott started to form in your stomach when he kept hitting the right spots, a sign for yet another delicious orgasm.

“r-right there, hoon! ughn,” you whimpers at the feeling of exploding inside you. “so deep, so deep. fuck.”

he slightly pulls away from your face to chuckle sexily near your ears, nibbling it. "i know baby. hold on," he whispers, and gave your cheek a sweet peck.

his thick brows draws near to each other as he focused to a stable pace that made it even more hard for you to contain your moans. you are starting to see stars from weariness and too much pleasure.

sunghoon just can't stop himself. if you look this hot under him how can he ever refrain himself from burying his cock to your cunt every damn time. you are just so perfect for him, just for him.

"f-fuck, you feel so tight around me... so fucking tight." he growled lowly, one of his hand reaches over your breast fondling it before giving it a suck.

"i'm so c-close, hoon." your grip to his arm tightens.

he gave your sensitive bud one more kiss before he raises his head to look at your face. seeing your face so aroused and so close from passing out just makes him lose his mind. you look so pretty.

"cum with me, baby." and with his command you released. he didn't stopped just yet and leans down to connect his lips with yours.

this time his kisses are slow and more affectionate as he continues to slide his cock in and out of you, painting your insides with his hot cum.

he fell beside you and you're both a panting mess after that. the room fell silent and eye lids are starting to feel heavy, but you are fighting it. this isn’t the right time to pass out here, inside his room. regardless of that thought, none of you said a thing or moved. just trying to go back to your senses after a very intimate and hard fuck.

a phone ringing brought you into your right head space. hearing that it was your ringtone, you pushed yourself up from his bed and searched for your phone in an instant. the space between your thighs hurts a little, but you give it no mind and focused on finding your damn phone.

"jay!" you cleared your throat as you try to sound normal. it felt strained from all the screaming and because of being choked in bed multiple times by sunghoon.

sunghoon sat up from laying down and you can see from your peripheral that he's watching you closely. it made you feel conscious and intimidated, specially now that you aren't fucking him and yet still fully naked. he was always the type of person who makes people feel conscious of themselves. maybe because of his godly visuals or basically everything about him.

you used your shoulder to hold your phone by your ears while gathering your scattered clothes, dressing up in a hurry.

"i just finished my shift, love. where are you? let's meet up and have late dinner." your boyfriend sounded so excited from the other line.

yes, it sounded that fucked up. jay is your boyfriend and you are in bed with someone else. you’re a terrible person.

a string of guilt came into you after hearing his sweet voice. "o-okay, sure! just pick me up at the store near my apartment."

sunghoon stood up and grabbed his sweatpants to wear it. his eyes never left you, he was just silently watching. fighting the urge to talk and ruin something precious for you. he stared with dead eyes, a bitter feeling poisining his whole system.

"alright, i love you too." and ended the call before starting to get your stuff.

he scoffed and put his hand inside his pocket.

"what do you think will my brother feel if he knew you were screaming my name moments before he called you?" he asks taunting.

your jaw clenched and hand hang from getting your coat. it was knife straight towards your chest. and just by thinking about that thought already makes you tremble in fear. you are very much guilty and you know what you've been doing is unforgivable. having him say that was like a slap on your face.

it was wrong to sleep with another men other than your boyfriend, and its even worst that he was his brother. you know this is bad. like fucked up very bad, and yet you just can’t stop yourself from going to sunghoon. you can’t stop falling for those stares and his hot touch. no matter how hard you try to stay away from him, you always go back.

like a moth to a flame, he was forbidden for you. because he’s trouble and he’s bad for you. but just like a moth, you didn’t care. you wanted his fire and so you are both burning, sinfully letting yourselves enjoy the flame you’re never should have shared.

slowly, you faced him and his placid expression was so far from how he looks at you in bed. there was no emotion or anything. just blank.

"hoon, please..." he clicked his tongue at the side of his cheeks before smirking. hearing you beg in bed is one thing, hearing you beg outside of it is another. both have clear effects on him, tho. its driving him out of his mind.

"we already talked about this. we agreed on just casual fucks—" your words hang when he took a step closer to you, making your bodies almost touch. the way your heart reacted with his action like he’s the ownder of it is just crazy.

“you know that's not the case anymore. we both know something else is going on here.”

you teared your gaze away from him, couldn't stand staring at his eyes. it always has its way on you. the way it stares at you just pushed into some kind of trance, like as if you are under his spell.

"i'm leaving." you mumbled and grabbed your bag, but was abruptly stopped when he took a hold of you.

"don't go." his tone almost made you give in, but you know it will just bury you two into the sin that already eating you both alive.

you licked your lips and slowly looked at him. sunghoon clenches his jaw as he stares at your teary eyes. its odd. he never felt this way before. countless girls cried in front of him, but not once did he felt like he wanted to protect them. like he wanted be submit and just lets them have what they want. just you. only you can make him feel like this.

“i l-love your brother...”

stabbed. you are stabbing him straight to his heart, but why are you the one hurting? why does your heart ache for sunghoon? it was illegal enough to sleep with him and it will be even horrible to have feelings for him.

“you do now, huh?” he taunts and tilts his head to the side. the corner of his lips lifts up, eyes not breaking eye contact.

“so what’s this?” he asks, “if you love him why do you keep coming back to me? craving more of me? is that what you call love?” a tear left your eyes when he said those words.

“ahh,” he sighs and acts as if he just put every pieces together. “you love him but the sex is just so boring that’s why you go to me everytime he cannot satisfy you.”

you shoved his hold off of you and shoot him glares. guilty. but you will never let him win like this. jay’s the perfect boyfriend. sweet, thoughtful, loving. everything you wish for a guy to be in a relationship with, he have it. but he seems so sweet and soft towards you that sex is not that thrilling. sunghoon was right. its a little boring. or maybe because you’re just into something else and so afraid to open it with him.

sunghoon’s the complete opposite of his brother. he’s arrogant, a notorious playboy, he’s the type of guy who just a go with the flow, mischievous and always full of himself. he fucks really hard and good too. it slowly became your addiction. the one time mistake was followed by another. and then another. and another. until you had lost count of them.

“what y/n? my sweet brother can’t satisfy you so you come running to me like a slut for my dick—”

“park sunghoon!” the fact that he’s saying all these things just makes you feel even bad. you know he’s a jerk, but it seems like his attitude became worst.

he scoffed with an unamused grin. “what? i’m just telling the truth.” he tilts his head over to the side, smirk growing wider to mask his real emotions.

“he’s so pathetic and boring to the point that he cannot even satisfy his own girlfriend.”

“enough!” you yelled at him.

“you can’t keep this forever.”

“that’s why i’m ending whatever this is right now.” you looked straight to his eyes.

“no you’re not.” his gaze burned at you, jaw clenches as he grabs your arm firmly.

sunghoon wanted to stop himself from saying or doing anything stupid. he isn’t someone who let his emotions control him. when it comes to this game, he’s an expert. he’s never the one to beg or stop someone from cutting whatever this is. he usually just shrugs it off then move to another one.

so why the fuck is he holding you so tight? why does his heart aches so much just by hearing those words from you?

he wanted to convince himself that its his pride and ego that you’re stepping into. that he just really hates losing to his brother. but he knew pretty well its his goddamn heart you are crushing and he’s letting you. sunghoon gave you his heart and doesn’t even care if you stab it until you are satisfied.

you can ruin him. you can ruin everything in him, if that’s how he gets to keep you.

“s-sunghoon,” you resist from his hold which is useless as he was like a stone. its funny how you think you can even break free from him.

he shook his head firmly, “you are not leaving me. no.”

your heart aches and it took everything in you to pull your walls up. the wall you built to barricade your heart to keep it from beating for him.

“i’m so sorry.” you whispered, lips shaking. the words processed inside your mind, but it was too hard for you to say it out loud.

you know it will hurt him and that will probably end whatever this is. it will hurt you as much as it will hurt sunghoon. but you know this is what’s right and you should’ve done that long time ago. before you two gets too attached.

“i love him.”

your words cracks his heart. no, he was already broken. and now that you made that choice, shatters it. his hold from you loosen and it took everything in you to leave him. this is your chance to make things right.

you’re not really yourself while you went back to your apartment to shower and freshen up a bit. sunghoon’s scent are stuck on you, like an alpha male claiming his omega. you shoved him away from your thoughts and just focused on getting ready.

“hi,” you greeted jay with a kiss on his lips after you arrive the restaurant.

he agreed on just waiting for you here since you informed him that you’ll take a while to get ready. this is one of your favorite place to eat and jay always gets you two a reservation whenever you plan to have a date.

“you look tired, love. everything okay?” his worried eyes carefully scan you and strings of guilt once again starts to suffocate you.

a small smile is all you can give him, “just tired from work.” you lied and eyes dropped at the menu placed in front of you.

“did you order already?” you ask trying to switch the topic.

he gently reach for your hand and placed a soft kiss on it, “not yet.” then smiles warmly. his eyes still look worried for you so you tried to assure him that you’re fine.

“let’s order then?” and was about to raise your hand, but he stopped you.

“let’s wait for a few minutes.” then he glanced at his phone.

your brows furrowed, “why?”

he lifts his head and innocent eyes stares right at you, “oh, sunghoon’s around town so he told me he wants to dine with us.”

you can feel your heart thumping hard and ears slowly muffling. shivers and cold sweats runs through your spine.

“w-what?”

he ignored the look on your face and doesn’t take it as a big deal. his eyes shifted towards the entrance and his eyes brightens at the sight of his own brother, walking inside.

“hoon!” he even raised his hand to catch his attention.

sunghoon smirks as he nods his head before starting walking towards your table. you didn’t move and just sat there, uncomfortably. he grins inwardly, watching how nervous you are.

“hi y/n.” he greets meaningfully before sitting at the chair across of you.

you cleared your throat and tries to smile at the man in front of you. just by the look on his face, it was visible that he’s enjoying this very much. he enjoys seeing you so tense.

“hi.” you shortly respond.

sunghoon chuckles before he looks at his brother to greet him with a wide grin.

“it’s good to see you man.” your boyfriend says, very delighted to have a meal with his brother after a long time.

“yeah. same here.”

“you said you want to tell me something?” jay brings up that got you stoned at your position. you hitch your breath as you glance at sunghoon.

jay’s arm rested at the back of your chair and his hand casually caress your arm. it caught sunghoon’s attention and his grin fell for a short period of time. he managed to pull it back and with a clenched teeth he tries to smile.

“later. first, let’s share a meal, shall we?” and he arches his brow sexily before glancing back at you, his words giving a double meaning.

tag-list:

@jeoncarla008 @hongshuaknow

#enhypen #slutofpsh #enhypen smut #enhypen hard hours #enhypen x reader #enhypen park sunghoon #enhypen sunghoon #enhypen sunghoon smut #enhypen sunghoon hard hours

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missqhughes · 6 months ago

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could you do number 12 from the kiss prompt list w/ Luke pls and thank you 🫶🏻🤞🏻

little first time with luke moment that i hope you love <3 lowkey got so carried away but i really enjoy this one

it all was happening almost too fast.

you were lazily making out with luke on the couch, your legs straddled over him as his hands explored your body. you don’t know where things picked up, but luke stood the two of you up, legs wrapping around his waist and lips not daring to unhook as he took you to the bedroom.

now, your shirt was off, luke’s warm lips kissing over your body as you instinctively arched into his touch. his hands toyed with the waistband of your sweats, fingertips hooking on the edge of the soft material when you became hyper aware of what was about to happen.

you inhale deeply, luke continuing the trail of his lips up your body, his mouth claiming the spot uncovered by your bra, nipping at the skin lightly.

your heart feels like it’s going to beat out of your chest, the feeling of him dangerously close to feeling your naked chest making nerves shoot through your entire body. you place a hand through his soft curls, him still lost in your chest,

“luke,” you breathe out, and immediately stops, raising his head and shifting his eyes to meet yours, concern written on his face,

“what? what’s wrong? did i go to far? i’m so sorry i-”

“-no. you did nothing wrong, lu. it’s just…” you trail off, bottom lip caught between your teeth as you contemplate your next words. he knows you haven’t had sex before, that wasn’t a surprise to him, but he always chalked it up to you just wanting to wait for someone, not just the utter spiral it sent you into just thinking about it.

“it’s just what baby?” he cooed,

“i’m just so nervous. what if you don’t like what you see? what if i’m bad at it? what if i-” luke cuts you off with a snort, sending a wave of worry through your veins, but his laughs are only accompanied with a loving touch on your face,

“well first of all, i already love what i see, can’t imagine you’d be bad at it, and you’re with me so there’s nothing to worry about,” he says gently, dipping down to replace his caressing thumb with a kiss on your cheek.

“but if you don’t want to, we won’t. you just gotta tell me baby, okay?”

he was right, luke himself didn’t make you worry, and he definitely wasn’t going to judge you. he was so patient, and him letting you decide made you all the more ready, even if you were nervous.

“i want to, lu. i want you.”

he smiles, raising his body off of you to take his own shirt from his body, leaning back down, the feeling of his warm body radiating onto your own,

“then just keep laying down love, and let me do you how you deserve it."

his words made you shudder, the rasp of his voice bringing little knots in your stomach. you nod, luke’s hands on either side of you as he claims your lips once more. he presses his body into you, reassurance seeping from his lips to yours.

he ends the contact, and you frown as he pulls away, his sly hands making up for it by lightly holding the top of your sweatpants, peeling them down your legs.

as soon as they hit the floor, his eyes were glued to your body; underwear and bra so sexily but innocently matching, a blush tinted on your cheeks, desire welling up between your legs.

luke’s lips part slightly, his lips dancing across your partially open legs. he finds the edge of your panties, and you both glance to one another at the same time,

“can i?”

“yes,” you breathe out, your heartbeat so elevated it almost rings in your ears as luke removes your underwear, tongue swiping across his bottom lip as he’s met with your wet folds.

“i’ll be gentle, i promise.”

you pull your legs further apart for him, his large hands latching on to the bottom of your thighs, lips delivering a sweet kiss to your clit that makes you cry out.

“too much?”

“n-no, it’s perfect, keep going,”

his kisses turn more sloppy, mouth moving down to collect your slick on his tongue, groaning as he makes out with your pussy. your hand goes down to grip his curls, the pull causing his groans to deepen, the vibrations making your eyes roll.

luke is instantly addicted to the taste of you on his lips, savoring every bit of wetness that collects on his tongue, eyes closed as he continued to devour you in his almost drunken state. he sucks the top of your sensitive nub, your hips bucking into his face with a guttural moan.

his tongue is soft against your folds, the gentle sucking of your clit to not be too rough with you is somehow just the thing that brings you closer to the edge.

“luke,” you breathe out, a fistful of his soft brown curls hooked between your fingers, but when he can feel you pushing your hips closer into his face, he stops, making you whine from the loss of his mouth.

the heat between your legs stays as you look at him, pupils enlarged, his lips and chin coated in your slick. “why… why did you stop?” you pant,

“as good as you taste, i really want to make you cum when i fuck you,”

you give him a nod of approval, and he’s standing himself up, peeling off his shirt and shorts, his eyes glancing down at your bra then back at your eyes signaling you to do the same. you get his message loud and clear, swiftly unhooking your bra, your chest bare and luke’s eyes drowning in desire.

his lips go back to claim your skin, his mouth moving to your bud, moaning as his tongue swirls and he releases it with a light tug of his teeth.

“you’re perfect,” luke rasps, precum creating a small wet spot in his boxers. he lowers them, revealing his aching cock as he aligns himself with your core.

“ready?”

“i’m ready,”

he pushes in slow, hissing as tip explores you, gently pushing in back and forth until he’s completely inside of you. luke groans, fighting against is urges and keeping his pace slow, the burn inside you gradually morphing into pleasure, whimpering at just how much you love the feeling of being filled by his dick.

it doesn’t take long for you to get needy for more, not quite content with his slow and soft pace,

“faster, luke,”

he listens, his thrusts picking up, earning moans from the both of you,

“fuck, harder.” luke’s jaw clenches, grabbing your legs to wrap around his waist as he pounds into you roughly, per your request.

you cry out, arms holding on to his shoulder’s for support, tits bouncing with each powerful thrust he pulls into you. he hasn’t been fucking you for long, but feeling how tight your pussy wraps around him makes it hard to last long, the feeling that he’s about to make a mess inside you closer than he’s anticipated.

“you feel so good, not gonna last,” luke is breathless, lost in his rhythm and twitching inside of you, his dick hitting every spot it needs to, matching you to the rise of your own orgasm.

you feel tight at your stomach, the pleasure building deeper and deeper, “i’m close, i’m close!”

he definitely wants to make sure you cum first, moving his thumb up to draw circles on your clit, echoing moans vibrating through you, feeling yourself release warmth all over him.

you look down, his dick still going whilst coated in your creamy juices, sloppy and sure of his own high. just as he releases, brings your lips to his, mouth moving gently against yours, groaning into you as he paints your walls with his cum.

he pulls himself out, both of you covered in your messes. he breaks away, but close enough for his breath to still intertwine with yours. your breathing relaxes, luke moving the messy hairs away from your face.

“how was that for your first time?” he says, crooked smile and loving eyes admiring you,

“really, really good,” you smile “thank you, luke.”

“no, thank you pretty girl, anytime. seriously, anytime,” he winks. you giggle, pulling him flush against your body, his arms swiftly picking you up to bring you into the bathroom for some much needed aftercare.

#luke hughes #luke hughes x reader #kaianswers 🎀

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breezybangtanbebe · 10 months ago

Text

Rain Rain Rain..You cant fake it : JJK 💋

Tags: JungkookXFemaleReader, raw car sex in the rain, bossy handsy Jungkook, freaky eager reader🥴😌

(Photo is totally AI, I take no credit for it.)

1.7k words

His sweat tasted like honey on your tongue and it mixed with the flavor of the rain that scored his skin on your mad dash across the empty parking lot.

It came out of nowhere.

Well, thats what you would say considering you rarely checked the weather app. Your skimpy outfit being a clear indicator.

Jungkook gave up on warning you ages ago because you never listened. The only times when you did were at times like now, when he demanded that you straddled him the back seat of his Benz.

Your little skirt rides up your thighs and exposed the roundness of your cheeks to everyone if they could be seen through the misty windshield. Luckily for you, no one would be stopping to check in on a parked car at the vacant rest stop off the highway. Not on a dark rainy night like this.

Jungkook groans as your lips latch just under his jaw, suckling one of his many weak spots. He squirmed beneath you, panting in need when your teeth grazed his skin. As you worked on branding him, his hands spread over the expanses of your plump ass cheeks. He squeezes them greedily and grinds you over his lap.

The friction is delicious against your paper thin panties, and you moan against his throat when your clit swelled. You pull away from Jungkook’s throat with wet lips, only from him to yank you back into him by the back of your neck.

"Take them off.." his lips command over yours, his tongue slipping into your mouth seamlessly. You sighed contently at the taste of him as you lifted your ass to peal your panties from your wet pussy.

Your skin was slick from the rain but deeper between your thighs, theres a moisture there that couldnt be blamed on the weather alone. Jungkook explored it with his fingers, his large hand curling under your ass to stroke your entrance. All the while he drowns out your breathy whines with his tongue, kissing you drunkenly as he played with your pussy.

You could feel just how ready he was beneath you, the curve of his erection bumping against your heat as you ground against him.

“Pull it out..Fuck me baby.." he says into your mouth and waste no time in reaching under his waistband.

His dick springs from his sweats and its as if he'd been allowed to breathe after holding it the way he exhales in relief. His swollen tip shined in the muted light that cut through the rain speckled glass, pre-cum leaking shamelessly from the hole.

You stared at it with lustful eyes and Jungkook smiled sexily with pride before pulling you in for another open mouth kiss.

He held you at your hips to lift you and your fingers dug into the leather upholstery for support as you lowered herself onto his length, both of you moaning in harmony as you sink onto him.

Jungkook's teeth dig into his lip as he buried himself as deep as your body would allow, spearing you hard against your sensitive cervix.

"Fuck.." you cried out, placing a hand on the roof of the car as your eyes drop to watch your pussy spread around Jungkook's girth.

Your clit bulged and begged to be touched as you rode him and Jungkook reads your body like a book. One of the hands that held your waist rushes to his mouth where his wet tongue waited for his thumb to press against it.

He uses it to rub messy circles over your sensitive button, causing a shock wave of sensation to shake your body.

“Oh fuck yesss…” you whimper, bouncing more frantically on Jungkook’s hardening dick.

You bears down on him hard and Jungkook takes advantage by rutting his hips upward, pinning you to the seat behind you with his other hand secured at your throat.

“Right fucking there..” he grits, tightening his grip on your airway as he fucked into you faster.

The messy wetness crescendos as Jungkook hit your spot over and over, your release drenching his lap and everything below him. Your voice breaks the moment your reach your peak, tapering off to a mumble of praises and his name.

“There you go..thats it..” Jungkook bites his lip as he guided your hips over his length, coaxing out every last bit of your high and allowing you to ride it out.

"Yes..There you go..thats it baby....shit.." he repeats, shuddering as his dick thumped inside of you. He hadn’t cum just yet, but he was close. It wouldnt take much either and he knew it.

Pulling out, Jungkook taps the side of your face gently to get your attention.

"C'mere...turn around."

Following his lead, you dazedly move your body to slot it between the front two seats. Your tummy rests on the middle console and Jungkook scoots over to the center backseat, his hands on your hips.

Before either of you could get cold from being apart, Jungkook re-enters you from behind.

He immediately begins to snap into you fast and hard with zero regard for how sensitive you were. Not that you cared since you met him thrust for thrust, bouncing back against him with a chorus of unbridled moans.

“Oh God…yes yes yes…Jungkook!” You sobbed, already feeling as if you were about to explode all over him again.

This position was always the killer.

Jungkook’s damp fringe swayed in spikes as he watched his dick disappear and reappear inside you, complimented by the way the your ass bounced and jiggled with every blow.

This was it. Thats all it would take for him to lose himself.

"Gonna cum..fuck Im gonna..." Jungkook rasps, his brows crinkling the closer he hurdled himself over the edge.

A second later, Jungkook pulls you back and buries his dick deep inside of your pussy before pulling out at the last possible second. Ropes of hot cum splattered all over your weeping hole and ass cheeks, his veiny tattooed hand jerking it fast to ensure he didnt waste a drop.

With something similar in mind, your thoughtlessly reach under your belly to catch his dripping nut that mixed woth your cum as it ran down your thighs, scooping a generous amount from your skin to taste.

Jungkook watched you with parted lips, his pulsing and sensitive dick still in hand as you used your fingers to clean yourself up. You toss him a naughty look over your shoulder, smiling evilly as you ran your tongue between your wet fingers.

"Youre fucking filthy..." he chuckles and you giggle around your cum coated digits.

"You love it." You exhale before sucking your fingers clean. Jungkook shakes his head, still in awe of you as he moved.

"Mmmh.." he hums as he sat back to pull his shirt over his head, most likely to use as a cum rag to finish cleaning you both up.

#jungkook fanfic #jungkook ambw #jungkook fanart #jungkook smut #jungkook bts #bts ambw #bts smut #bts #bts kpop #ambw kpop #kpop smut #kpop imagines #kpop fanfic #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you

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sashi-ya · 1 month ago

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ohhhh, all my favourite men are here - in your post about “emo boys”, how I can choose just one 🥲

can i ask you about the totally needy and weak soshiro? 🥹 i love your piece of art about him so much but i would love to see the complete opposite of that image

I'm so looking forward to all your work!

𝗸𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗻. submissive! soshiro hoshina x mommy! reader. nsfw

a/n: hi sweetheart! I immediatly loved the request when I saw it!! and I hope you do as well 🤗 sorry for taking a long time, I haven't been feeling well but I'm all good now! thank u for your support!! ❤ tw: +18 mdni. desperate sub! soshi. oral. jerking off. overstimulation. breast sucking. "mommy/kitten/good boy" terms used. wc: 1.7k masterlist

Everybody has their weaknesses, the not that strong and the strongest fighters too... For the third squad vice-captain, his kryptonite was nobody but you…

“You tell me, what’s that little waist of yours for? Mh?” you whisper into his ear, coming from behind, passing your hand from the side to his belly and a little down.

His back and neck stiffens, all his muscles do as well. Muscles and sex. His stomach pressed against the back of his chair.

“Hi…” he murmurs, with his eyes still fixed on the paperwork over his desk.

It’s late; everybody at the base should be asleep. Barely any light remains turned on; the one from the library, and the other one from the office you are in.

Soshiro, a sharp knifed monster, lays now immobile… a prey of your dominant, lewd, deadly hands.

“Have you bathed yet?” you ask, burying your nose into the crook of his neck. With wet lips, you leave a delicate trace of pecks as you do.

“N-no. Not yet…” he answers back; nobody will believe that’s the same Hoshina Soshiro they know if they see him acting this way.

Inhaling the scent of his skin, with still hints of sweat from training, you press your whole body against his back. And the more you do, the more his sex gets squashed against the back of his chair.

A little whimper escapes his lips, as maybe the pressure on his hardness is too much to handle.

You scoff; sexily and wickedly. “Already moaning, little kitten?”

The squint-eyed man nods, earning himself a bite on his nape from your hungry mouth. Desperate, weak, submissive… all yours.

“Turn around, come on…” you command, using your hands around his waist to help him with the order.

When he does, you can’t wait to attack his lips; biting them, you pull just a little to make the last traces of autonomy leave his body.

With sweaty palms, he lets his mouth go wild as much as yours, in a kiss so sinful, so lustful.

While your tongues explore, desperately, each other’s mouths, you down the zipper of his uniform jacket.

Just as you previously requested, you find the compression shirt you love the most, hugging his abs and such tiny frame.

Opened palm, your hand travels from his pecks down his sex. It would be impossible to resist yourself not to grab and delicately squeeze it. Soshiro squirms and does a little jump when you do. And he gets hard, harder than before, kissing you with even more passion and longing.

You let him enjoy a couple more squeezes and massages, only to travel back up through the extents of his abs; this time, underneath his tight shirt.

His pecs run the same faith as his sex; clutching them in between your hands, you crush, and pinch and knead to your own desires. His nipples turning erect, enjoying the stimulation as well.

You push him towards his desk, as his free hand moves the chair away in a blind swing. He ends up sitting right by the edge, with his hands landing on paperwork he might have to redo once you are finished with him.

“Take this off” you order, divesting him from every fabric in between you and his flesh except, yet, his pants. The pale skin of his chest, hairless, with some old battle scars here and there, chiselled to extreme perfection turns your mouth, once again, watery.

You purr; and like a cat you rub yourself against the bulge still trapped underneath his cargo pants.

“I need… I want…” Soshiro pleads, like a thirsty man abandoned in the middle of the desert.

“What do you want, Soshiro? Mmh? Tell me, kitten” you moan, closer to his ear, while you keep on rubbing your sex against his. Including a skirt uniform was such a good idea Mina had…

“You… mommy” he whispers, using his strong hands to squeeze your ass cheeks.

You smirk, almost maliciously.

“Then, on your knees…” you order, accompanying his motion with your hand on his head. You brush his hair back when he finally kneels down and grab a fistful of his hair.

Taking his face towards your core, you force him to bury his nose into your wet panties.

Far from being some kind of torture, Soshiro feels like he is ascending towards heaven; his tongue gets to taste the salty flavour of your arousal. His sharp teeth from time to time, bury on your inner thighs, and his skilful hands on your ass cheeks.

Soon, he is able to move your panties away, this time enjoying, straight from the source, all the ambrosial elixir of your sexuality.

And is nothing out of the normal, since Soshiro’s tongue does wonders every time it gets to curl in, out and around your pudic lands. Yet, even if common, his technique is anything but ordinary; your head thrown back and your eyes crossed from the pleasure only shows the level of his expertise.

Pushing his head even further into your core, you can hear his muffled moans; it makes you shiver… how can someone turn so desperate, like an addict, when he is crushed by your raging, sexual, dripping heat?

Everybody has a weakness…

You allow your leg to become his humping place; from a kitten to a doggy, grazing, giving himself pleasure with the instep of your foot, with the nylon feeling of your thigh highs of your uniform… w

“Good boy~” you pat his head, once you stop pulling from his dark purple hair.

Soshiro, whose lips and chin ended up shiny and wet, opens his eyes in a pleading look that rarely anyone but you could see.

“Those good boy eyes; what do you want, sweetheart?” you ask, helping him stand up. His pants have become a mess of precum and sweat; his sex is aching for relief… weak, he is weak for you.

He can’t speak. You won’t let him either way; part of this pleasant torture is that exactly, to play wit his needs and desires… to make him… desperate.

You push him back to the desk, allowing him to sit on it. And when he is finally all set, you give him a little sensual dance while you unbutton the upper part of your uniform; the black jacket opened, flashes your chest right before his now sloppy eyes.

Those eyes, red and imbued in lust, devour the perfect imagery of your anatomy; to him it might be enough to make him cum… oh, but you have a better plan for that.

“Come here…” you command, passing your hand through his nape to pull him closer to your breasts; those sharp fangs are perfect for this.

And while he attaches to your nipples like a vampire sucking blood, you lower the zipper of his jeans; crotch wet, sticky, hot, hard.

You let him nibble, suck and bite while you finally surround his shaft and go up and down. Stroking his throbbing sex, with his gland against your belly, feeling how the precum keeps oozing and making a huge mess on each other’s bodies, you carry him in your arms towards climax.

Explosive orgasmic expression; breasts covered in teeth marks, warm seed overflowing, and your also overstimulating jerking off motions…

“I don’t care if you’ve just finished, I will keep on going until I’m satisfied with you… my sweet kitten Soshi ~”

“Ye-yes, mommy ~”

#kaiju no 8 #kaiju no. 8 #kaiju no 8 x reader #kaiju no. 8 fluff #kaiju no. 8 smut #soshiro hoshina #soshiro hoshina x reader #hoshina soushirou #hoshina soshirou x reader

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anthurak · 1 month ago

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So I recently saw a demo video for an upcoming mech-action game ‘Mecha Break’, which if you haven’t heard of it, looks like basically ‘Armored Core, now with hilariously blatant and obvious waifu bait’ in the form of sexy bombshell pilot player-characters that you can customize and have strut sexily around a hub-world between missions.

The thing is though, I can’t help but think there is something very interesting and honestly FUN about the idea of a mech game with a customizable Pilot-PC and a hub-world that you can explore ‘on-foot’ between missions. That just feels like something that would add so much fun immersion into a game like this.

Like the general rule of mech-games is that you are always essentially playing as the mech, and nothing else. With everything else like mech-customization and mission selection being done purely through menu-interfaces.

But with an actual Pilot-PC and an explorable hub-level, I feel like things get a lot more INTERESTING. Like now you can have fun with incorporating all those menus diagetically into the hub-world. Like actually going to the hanger to build and customize your mech, going to a shop to purchase new equipment, and of course the opportunity for plenty of RPG elements like chatting with other characters, finding items, reading documents and just simple exploration. And even some especially fun and egregious stuff like actually going through the full process of prepping and boarding your mech and going through the entire launch sequence before a mission.

And I can’t help but feel like that makes things at least a bit more fun and engaging overall? Sure it’s all so much ‘fluff’ and the dreaded word ‘filler’, but you know what? I think having some fluff and filler is a GOOD THING.

Honestly I feel like this is probably the one thing I really wish we’d gotten in Armored Core 6. Like yes, I know there is a Watsonian excuse for why you can’t have a Pilot-PC, but that game was made in the same engine as Elden Ring, Sekiro, Dark Souls and basically all of FromSofts other games. Would it really have been so hard to port over the PC assets from Elden Ring to make Pilot-PCs and a Firelink/Roundtable Hold-esque hub-world to hang out in and explore between missions?

Now sure, I realize that this level of immersion in a mech game wouldn’t be for everyone. Some people prefer the streamlined, simplified ‘go through some menus then play missions’ framework. But I also feel like this would be easy enough to accommodate for by having an option to easily access all of the between-mission menus and interfaces without running around the hubworld? Like say your PCs quarters in/aboard the homebase/spaceship/carrier/etc has an interface that lets them/you ‘remotely’ access all the mech-customization, parts-purchasing, mission-selection, etc. and skip the immersive fluff if you wish.

(Though perhaps with the caveat that if you do this too much, your character develops a reputation for being reclusive, anti-social shut-in which has potential consequences for the story XD)

I even think there’s a lot potential in the concept of a customizable Pilot-PC alone, aside from just being a sexy waifu. Like one game that actually did some REALLY interesting stuff with this concept was DAEMON X MACHINA from a few years back. That game not only gave you a customizable Pilot Player Character, it actually gave the customizations tangible effects on gameplay in the form of your character being able to get various cybernetic augmentations through a skill tree that gave different bonus’s to your piloting ability as you gradually turn your character into a full cyborg over the course of a playthrough.

I think we all understand value of a good hub-level in video games, particularly games that are very mission-based (shoutout to Hitman WoA’s Freelancer-mode Safehouse), and I think there’s a lot of there for the mecha-action genre.

#rambling #rambling about games #video game mechanics #mech games #armored core 6 #daemon x machina #would definitely like to hear if anyone else knows of other mech games that have pilot-pcs XD #btw gratuitous waifus aside mecha break might be best avoided #as it sounds like the publishers are trying to push some pretty skeevy micotransaction bullshit in it

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tremendouscreationperson · 6 months ago

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I've been thinking about this for a solid year now.

"Bucky," you giggled as he tossed you onto the bed. "I'll never be able to face Sam again!"

Bucky and Natasha had come home days late from a mission. It had taken a lot out of him but the information he smuggled back was excellent. You were trying to a) paint a larger picture and b) devise a new plan of attack when he burst through the doors.

You smiled widely, scribbling down the end of your sentence. "Hiya, Buck!"

"You alright Barnes?" Sam didn't need to raise his head to know who it was stalking over. Accustomed to the footsteps.

"I forgot something." He told Sam, one hand meeting the back of your chair and the other the base of the seat between your legs. In one swift motion he lifted the chair and turned.

"You need that specific chair, huh?" Sam met your wide gaze and ajar mouth over Bucky's shoulder.

"My favourite chair in this whole place." Was spoken as he exited the room.

"Who cares?" He chuckled, crawling over you. His eyes were warm and playful. "I missed you."

"Well, we now have an extra chair." Your laugh was cut off with his lips, Bucky bent his head to taste you. It had been far too long, he was never going on a mission again.

Bucky's hands trailed up and down your body, causing you to twitch and shiver but you never once broke the kiss. You wouldn't dare, you'd missed him far too much to.

"Mm." Bucky moaned as he parted from you. "I'm going to need you to say it."

You groaned - non sexily, very non sexily - and frowned. He didn't need you to say this. You loved him and trusted him. You would do anything for this man. "I don't think it's still a necessity, baby."

He didn't let up, of course he didn't. He couldn't. Not even if you ran your hands through his hair and peppered his cheeks with kisses, which you did. Not even if you told him a thousand times, which you had, he would still need it again. He needed you to be sure. To know you could say no. "Y/N."

You let out a breath that definitely wasn't a sigh before reciting, "I, Y/N L/N, do very much want to sleep with you and will tell you, Bucky Barnes, if I want you to stop. I would also like to reiterate that I will never ask you to stop and that you could ask anything of me and I'd happily give it."

Bucky's features relaxed, the lines against his eyes ceased and his lips eased into a gentle smile. "I love you."

"I love you and please, please, I don't think there's a possibility where I'd tell you no. I want you to know that. If you want to explore anything new that's completely fine. I'll never ask you to stop."

"Bucky?" You whispered into the darkness.

This was all wrong.

You weren't even meant to be here. You weren't a field agent!

How had you got caught up in this?!

You tiptoed through the pitch black, trying to not make a sound when the lights suddenly flickered on and you were met with the harsh white corridor. The tiles were so white seemed to glow, forcing your eyes shut.

Blearily blinking against the assault your eyes were fighting, you saw a silhouette. You forced your eyes to observe it and relief flooded through your being. It was your love.

"Bucky!" You grinned, jogging over to him, only to falter when he didn't react in kind.

He stayed statue still, his dark eyes piercing into your soul. There was no grin, no relief, no relaxing of his shoulders, no putting his weapon down; he was cold. He was dark.

His clothes were torn. He had been in a fight.

Of course he had, idiot. That's why you're here!

"Buc-" His fingers tightened their hold of the gun they held.

You were still.

Watching him watch you.

He raised his weapon, face blank.

"Hey!" Tumbled from your lips. "I-it's me."

His brows frowned, finally! An emotion!

"Where are we?"

Now it was your turn to frown. "Uh, this is a Hydra facility."

He took one stomp forward. You didn't back down, staying put, mostly to show him you weren't scared but partly because you were.

A hand found your chest and you informed him, "I'm Y/N."

"Who are you?" His eyes raked up and down your figure.

Shit.

His eyes flashed and he flung the gun to the side, launching himself at you.

It would've been a happy reunion.

But it wasn't.

He landed on top of you, straddling you, his vibranium fingers cutting off your air supply.

You spluttered and gasped against him, trying in vain to pry them from your throat.

"b-cky...s-st-p...pl-se." You coughed at him. One hand holding his and the other clutched against his shirt. "Stop."

But he wasn't there.

You weren't looking at your love.

You were looking at someone foreign. A mystery. He wasn't Bucky.

#bucky buchanan #bucky #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #james buchanan barnes #james barnes #bucky x reader #winter soldier #marvel

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geekundercover · 1 year ago

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X-Men ‘97 episode 1x3 thoughts! Just wanted to elaborate a bit on some of the stuff we saw in Madelyne’s hellscape, namely the nightmare visions for Gambit and Morph, since it feels like there’s some room to interpret with those two as compared to the other members that have had their inner conflicts explored a bit already or are pretty straightforward.

With Gambit, the vision of Rogue and Magneto does seem to go beyond ‘the woman I love is hooking up with another man’ and hits at some deeper insecurity about himself and his character. The vision of Rogue is calling him out as not a good person, not a worthy person, at least not compared to Magneto. It seems like deep down, Gambit does feel an admiration for Magneto despite their previous status as enemies; he’s convicted, he’s a leader, he’s a savior of mutants, and some part of Gambit ranks himself as lesser by comparison, just a ‘nasty, thieving critter’. Magneto is a hero, and by implication, Gambit is not. That’s kinda sad to think about, since Gambit has helped save the world multiple times at this point and has made plenty of selfless actions in the process, but he has always held himself at a bit of a remove from the team and the cause they’re fighting for. Maybe that’s finally starting to get to him, or maybe has always bugged him on some level but his difficulties with trust have never let him overcome that self-enforced distance. If this is laying the groundwork for some sort of character arc, one where Gambit does seek to become more of what he sees as a worthy man, more of a hero, and whether or not that takes a positive or negative trajectory for him, I’m super interested to see it.

As for Morph... Listen, I've been making Morph x Wolverine jokes just like everyone else, they've been Like That since the OG series, but at this point I'm genuinely and seriously sure that Morph is in love with Logan and that's the core of their nightmare vision. Sure, the obvious terror fuel is their Sinister-based trauma, but listen to what Sinister said to them and the context in which he said it: They just left a conversation where they, Logan, and Gambit were discussing relationship woes, and after Logan ditched them to go check on Jean, they looked bummed and said "and then there was Morph." Left alone. Then the visions start, and Morph gets a very naked Logan posing sexily in the shower. Sure they try to make a very "boys in the locker room" sort of joke out of it, but come on Morph, there is no heterosexual explanation (and I do not say that lightly) for going to bug your buddy in the shower by offering to help him with "hard to reach spaces." Then the Sinister quote: "Always with the jokes, eh, Morph? As if I don't know. As if we ALL don't know." I genuinely think Morph is mega gay for Wolverine and is trying to hide it from everyone badly. They may all be mutants, but it is still the 90s, and just because they all have being a mutant in common with each other doesn't mean they're all on the same page in terms of queerness. Again, if this is the case, it's sad to think about. At this point in the animated canon, Morph and Wolverine make FAR more sense as a pairing than Logan and Jean ever did. Logan never gave up on Morph after they were brainwashed in the OG series, went to the literal ends of the earth to bring them back home, so it's no wonder if Morph caught Big Feelings about it but is scared to actually be honest about them.

#x-men 97

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amanitaphalloides · 1 year ago

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what is the jopkey manifesto. if you can share it for those of us not in the gc 🥺

anon thank you for asking this question i have been trying and trying to bait someone into asking. here is it copy and pasted

Jopkey: A Manifesto

Jopkey in Brief

Jopkey refers to the romantic/erotic pairing of Thomas Jopson and Cornelius Hickey, a couple of guys who actually existed in real life and have been twisted into something beyond recognition by Dan Simmons, AMC, and now random people online such as us. Jopkey is commonly referred to as “the thinking person’s Terror ship” due to it kinda making you think.

Arguments For Jopkey

Let us review the nuanced and delicate appeal of Jopkey.

Potential Dynamics

Two tops fight to the death. In this formulation, Jopson and Hickey fight (mentally or physically) for dominance until one of them is (mentally or physically) dead. And they’re both tops. Credit Hannah @groundwater for being insistent about this final point.

Daddy’s candy babies. A popular (loose definition of the word) dynamic in which Jopson and Hickey are equally devoted to pursuing Francis Crozier’s attentions. But in doing so they find themselves irrevocably drawn to their freakass competitor…

Realizing potential. Jopson and Hickey recognize, in each other, great untapped potential—perhaps to be annoying and evil, but perhaps also to be intriguing, exciting, and to live life to the fullest. Whether intentionally or otherwise, they spur each other to explore all life has to offer them. Which given the circumstances isn’t that much.

Situations in Which Jopkey Could Happen

Hatefucking at any time.

Everyone else dies and they have to repopulate the ships.

Angry grief sex after Crozier dies. Perhaps over his casket?

Hickey happens upon Jopson’s half-dead form and attempts to eat him. Jopson simply responds, eat this.

Pertinent Jopkey Moments

“I’ll be there in a minute, Jopson.” Hickey refuses to call him lieutenant. Hot!

Jopson’s mouth twitches while watching Hickey be punished as a boy. Glee, eroticism, or simply an expression of sympathetic pain? Perhaps all three.

When Hickey picks up Neptune's turd he says "Sorry sir the dog relieved himself before I could call Mr Jopson." This implies he has watched Jopson pick up dog shit before and would feel comfortable calling Jopson for help. Hickey doing a task that he thinks should be Jopson's = they have so much in common.

This is also an early indication of their dynamic wherein they see their respective relationships to Crozier overlap. See "Daddy's candy babies" under Potential Dynamics above.

Jopson guards Hickey while he’s on tent arrest. Hickey teases Jopson about his shooting abilities with his hand down his pants, Jopson brags about all the critters he used to kill and eat and says “My aim’s just fine Mr. Hickey” sexily. Implies Hickey is also a critter to be skinned and devoured! Okay!

During this scene Hickey is touching his own penis and Jopson puts his hand in his own mouth. Through the transference property this means that they have had oral sex.

They appear next to one another in the list of Terror crew members in a published book in the gift shop of the National Maritime Museum as pictured here (ie they are cuddling):

Arguments Against Jopkey

Despite the cold hard facts/group delusion depending on your perspective, some people are anti-Jopkey. Let’s take a look at the common reasons behind this unfortunate sentiment and resolve them one by one.

Anti-Jopkey Arguments and Resolutions

"Jopson simply does not think of Hickey."

Fortunately this is easily disputed. Jopson is constantly looking at Hickey like ARGH. Also we use our little imaginations. Sooooo.

The anti-Jopkey contingency argues "that’s just Liam Garrigan’s face" (re. point 2 in the above).

A typical argument and quite a simple one to dispel! We only need apply the “say yes to the text” ethos—by which we understand that everything present in the text is there to be explored and enjoyed, quite separate from the circumstances of its creation. Jopkey is not so weak as to be dependent upon the actors’ intentions. Regardless of whether or not AMC’s The Terror was filmed with the specific and singular intention of breathing life into Jopkey (which it was), all that truly matters is the effect. And ultimately the effect of Liam Garrigan’s face is eroticism, glee, intrigue, sympathy, and perhaps even romance.

The truth is there will never be consensus in the group chat or in the world, and Jopkey will never be true or untrue. It will remain Schrodinger’s Jopkey, and by offering insight into our psyches and groupthink dynamics, it is actually a vital and beautiful step towards world peace.

Jopkey Bangers

I Fucking Hate You - Godsmack

Since You’ve Been Gone - Kelly Clarkson

I Knew You Were Trouble - Taylor Swift

Jopkey Mood Board

Affirmations for Jopkeyers

I am so smart for shipping Jopkey.

My phone knows the word Jopkey. It knows that I am not typing about Jockey.

I understand British accents perfectly. Every word Jopkey says is comprehensible to me.

My words and actions honor Jopkey and my Jopkeyer compatriots.

I can think completely secret erotic Jopkey thoughts on this bus; my brain is closed to psychic attacks from the bus driver and other passengers.

I know who these characters are; I can tell them apart from other light-haired and dark-haired men who appear onscreen together. I can recognize their interactions as unequivocally Jopkey.

The Jopkey Anthem

O Jopkey Jopkey! Of thee I sing!

With Jopkey I can do anything!

Jopkey helps me laugh and play

So I ship Jopkey every day!

Thomas Jopson — You always wow!

I know who you are by now

When first I watched I couldn't see

But you're not just Muttonchops #3

And Hickey lad with your sly grin

Reminiscent of delicious sin

Could you really be so wrong?

Not according to my Jopkey song!

[alternate hickey apologist verse] And Hickey — the perfect man!

Through thick and thin we’ll always stan

You’ve never done nothin’ wrong

And so to you we sing this song !

I pray this ship will never sink

Lest we approach the mental brink

May Jopkey sail forevermore

And far outlive Lieutenant Gore.

#the terror #this was a full gc collaboration in case that’s not clear by the fact that it contains arguments and multiple verses when we were trying #to write the same song simultaneously #jopkey

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