#half in tears but completely in denial

[rowanhoney]

.

[tsukimefuku]

You and Nanami decide to edge Hiromi to the verge of tears. content warning: smut, porn without plot, fem!reader, nanami x higuruma x reader, the roaring bisexuality agenda, piv, anal sex (m receiving), a few tears of frustration, overstimulation, teasing, soft dom!nanami. Roughly proofread. 2k.

"Stop teasing me and just do it!" Hiromi complained with a strained voice, words tumbling out of his lips in between whimpers. His arms were tensed, his hands bound behind his back by Nanami's signature yellow and black splattered tie, and small droplets of sweat smeared his temples as the back of his head rested on Nanami's shoulder. Hiromi's toes and feet curled nearly strongly enough to cramp, and his entire body shuddered violently.

You and Nanami shared a playful look, as you kept sliding your pussy over Hiromi's cock without ever letting it go past your entrance, and Nanami pressed just the tip of his length over Hiromi's hole, before retreating and repeating the same movement, again and again. The lawyer was at the mercy of you both, and got driven to the edge of overstimulation with all the teasing and denial.

Hiromi was sure he'd die out of sheer frustration as discreet tears pooled on his black eyelashes.

"Already? But we've been here for only a few minutes..." Nanami remarked with a hint of irony in his voice, his hand sliding up Hiromi's torso to hold the man's jaw.

"H-half an hour-" Hiromi replied breathless, before whining and scrunching his eyes shut when his tip's edge got caught under your folds. "P-please, I'm begging you both, I c-can't-"

You let out a soft chuckle in between your own pants and huffs, leaning forward to capture Nanami's mouth in a sloppy kiss that wasn't much more than tongue and saliva while you both sandwiched Hiromi in between your sweaty bodies. Your perked nipples brushed over Hiromi’s chest, and it was your turn to whimper into Nanami's mouth, robbing him of a leisurely grunt before you parted lips. As you did, you noticed his half lidded eyes simmering on some kind of need you were sure to be reflected in your own gaze.

You and Nanami were both already pretty wound up, too.

"Ask nicely and we'll do it," Nanami whispered against Hiromi's ear, before turning the man's face towards his own and thrusting his tongue inside Hiromi's mouth, earning him a sequence of delightful little whines and whimpers. A single tear of frustration rolled down Hiromi's cheek, while Nanami mindlessly pressed the tip of his cock once more against the lawyer's entrance. By this point, after so much grinding and lube, both condoms and a good portion of Hiromi's ass were all covered in slick.

The wet smacks of their lips combined with the scene of the two kissing sent a feverish throb directly to your core, and you mindlessly sunk the tip of his shaft past your ring. Hiromi immediately let out a loud moan into Nanami's mouth, and separated from the kiss in a sudden motion. His gaze went directly towards you, and his eyes begged for more.

"Love, my love, p-please-" His pleas came strained, almost in a high pitch, as his hips began thrusting softly in an effort to push his cock deeper into you. After so much teasing, you could feel every ridge of it trying to bully inside your dripping pussy, and with a loud moan, you finally caved, sinking completely on Hiromi's cock, his tip brushing against your cervix the moment he bottomed out.

His head dangled back, mouth falling open to let out the strangled voice of a man who had just received deliverance. In response, you cried out his name, entwining your fingers over the nape of his neck.

Nanami scoffed, a discreet smile pulling on his cheek, his voice filled with a half-hearted chide.

"You both crumble so easily..." he teased, his own pants in between his words betraying just how close he was to crumble down just as easy. With his hands, Nanami swiftly pulled on one end of the tie, freeing one of Hiromi's hands. In sequence, he commanded, "lay down, you two."

Hiromi didn't need to be told twice, and pushed you down beneath him on the bedsheets, plunging his cock as far as it would go into your walls while clashing his lips to yours. You moaned and mewled into his mouth, feeling the delicious stretch from having him inside you, and drew your nails down his back, marking him with pretty red lines all over his skin.

From his privileged viewpoint, Nanami watched as you both fucked, and pondered if he'd prefer to just sit back and watch. Hiromi was clearly pussy drunk, and you weren't fending off any better, not knowing if you should press your body against his or sink into the mattress as he dicked you down into it.

However, Nanami's twitching cock begged to differ, and he plastered his hands on Hiromi's waist, halting the other man's movements.

"Stay still," he ordered, much to your complaint. Hearing your frustrated whine, Nanami chided, "You two are incorrigible."

Not wasting any time, Nanami leaned forward, teasing the tip of two fingers on Hiromi’s entrance. With a whimper against your cheek, Hiromi involuntarily bucked his hips, dragging his cock inside your cunt. You whined, turning your face to press your lips against his once again. To hold him in place, Nanami reached out his other hand to hold the man’s waist.

“I said still.”

Collecting some lubrication left on the area from earlier, Nanami slowly inserted one finger, stretching Hiromi’s walls. The burning sensation prickled Hiromi’s eyes with tears, and you brought your hands up, thumbing the tiny droplets away from his eyelashes.

“Oh, Kento… go easy on him”, you cooed, peppering kisses all over Hiromi’s face. His brows furrowed, his cheeks flustered, his mouth agape letting out tiny sounds, and his eyes sealed shut morphed into one of the most beautiful things you had ever seen.

“I am going easy, I’m even warming him up,” Nanami replied, a minute smile flashing through his lips as he carefully inserted the second finger. His touch was tentative and deliberate, massaging Hiromi from within, each second of it driving the man a little more wild. 

“You know, I only told him to be still.” Nanami’s voice sounded curiously playful, as you looked up and saw his eyes burning into you. “You can move.”

You immediately understood what he was suggesting, and Hiromi had just about enough time to crack his eyes slightly open before you started to roll your hips against his. He moaned and instantly approached to kiss you, but you covered his mouth with one of your hands, smiling coyly at him.

With his body all hot and warm and cold and quivery everywhere, Hiromi was absolutely sure at that moment that you and Nanami were trying to kill him, and he was sure he’d die.

Well… There were worse ways to go.

“Fuck me, please, I c-can’t stand this any longer. I’ll- aaah, ah- God…” Hiromi’s voice came muffled through your fingers, his hot breath moistening your skin. He blabbered away in despair, while Nanami’s grip tightly against his waist kept him from burying himself into you or humping back on Nanami’s fingers.

It was torture all over again.

With an amused huff, Nanami finally pulled his fingers out of Hiromi. He quickly propped himself up and leaned himself over, having his cock sliding over where he had his fingers pumping in seconds before.

With a firm movement, he pressed his tip right through the initial resistance, easing himself inside Hiromi. In small pumps, Nanami made sure to slide himself inside as gently as possible, even though the prior relentless teasing would suggest otherwise. On your end, filled up to the brim and face to face with the brunette you and Nanami had tortured for the past God knows how many minutes, you saw Hiromi's eyes roll back into his skull as he let out the most intense, gut-wrenching, lewd moan you had ever heard falling out of his lips. 

If there had been any thoughts in his mind, they were sure as hell all gone by now. 

You uncovered his mouth while all the three of you began rocking each other's bodies, trying to find a rhythm, and shoved your tongue inside Hiromi's mouth without much other than hunger and desperation. His moans and whines reverberated inside your own, all over your tongue and sending a second heart beat directly into your pussy. Oh, God.

Nanami descended over Hiromi's body, and began nibbling, biting, kissing and sucking the skin in between his shoulder blades, all the way up to his neck. Nanami had his eyes screwed shut in the most blissful stupor you had ever seen on his face, his mouth agape, letting out a few gasps and low groans, few and not-so-far in between. He had one of his hands holding onto the bed headboard, and was absolutely sure he would end up tearing it off solely on brute force if he wasn't careful enough.

The entire room filled with the lewd sounds of your sweat glistened bodies slapping and sliding against each other, your and Hiromi's moans and whimpers mingling into one single symphony, and Nanami – arguably the only one who still held onto any sliver of sanity – only barely registered the sound of dragging wood. Perhaps the bed rocking on the floor, who the hell knew at this point.

Hiromi's cock was plunged inside you, and he moved his hips in between thrusting himself deeper into you and having Nanami filling him on pure instinct. If someone had asked him his name at that moment, he wouldn't know what words were. The way he pressed against your pubic mound and clit were dragging you towards your orgasm pretty fast, especially considering you were buried under the two hottest men you knew, but the way his length throbbed and pulsed inside – as well as his completely fucked out and messy face – made it evident you would not beat him to it.

In a few moments, his entire body jolted and shuddered in convulsive movements that had Nanami coming back to Earth just to slowly still his movements as Hiromi reached his peak. Brain fog wasn't a strong enough expression to convey Hiromi's state of mind – it was as if his brain had melted and dripped out of his ears with each spurt of white, hot, thick cum that filled the condom as he sloppily still tried to keep pumping himself into you. His face was buried in the crook of your neck, and he bit you down as if to hold you in place like prey, robbing you of a whimper.

"I… I need…" was all that Hiromi managed to whisper, his voice gruff and low, completely spent. His hand made its way behind towards Nanami, who gently slid himself out of Hiromi, having the man quiver as soon as he was done, falling to your side. 

Pent-up. Even though Hiromi had seen the face of God and came with all the might a human body was able to withstand without perishing, Nanami was still very much in need, like a stranded traveler in sandy deserts craving a glass of water. He pulled his condom out and collapsed in between you and Hiromi,  sighing deeply while he covered his eyes with his forearm, the angst of a stilted orgasm still lingering in his pained expression.

He dove one of his hands towards his cock, but you promptly held it, biting his jaw with a mischievous smile. Much to Nanami's surprise – who expected Hiromi to have fainted – the other man rolled towards him, encircling his own fingers around Nanami's length, planting a few kisses down his neck.

"Your turn."

-

End notes: Shoutout to whoever wrote this KusaHiguNana masterpiece that inspired my unholy thoughts (link here).

written by tsukimefuku ㋡ comments and reblogs are appreciated. do not copy, translate or repost. copycatting is for losers.

[eumivrse]

FUCK ME LIKE YOU MAD AT ME BABY (I NEED A FREAK TO DRIVE ME CRAZY!)

rough/angry sex ft. gojo, geto, nanami, toji, choso

warning(s) drunk sex + spanking (gojo), orgasm denial (geto), jealous sex + light bondage (nanami), car sex (toji), spitting + choking (choso), lowkey toxic, lots of degrading words, overstim, mention of safe word, breeding, creampie, squirting, cervix kissing, reader calls nanami ‘sir’ once, JUST A LOT OF SMUT IDK

note i’ve been equally horny for all of them lately ngl. also the title is so long but the song is stuck in my head ;0

tags @kurosaaki

GOJO

it takes a lot to piss satoru off. he lets things slide half due to his lack of ability to tell that people are mocking him and the other half because of his huge ego.

but there’s always that once in a blue moon moment when he comes home from work, mind already filled with irrational anger. and it just happens to be the same day you have your weekly night out with your girlfriends and are out until the ungodly hours of the night.

and of course that’s fine and all, but when he saw you stumbling into your doorstep tipsy at 3 in the morning, the word rational has been far blotted out of his dictionary. he’d already drank half a bottle of wine by himself at this point from drowning in his sorrows and satoru is the mere personification of a lightweight.

it wasn’t long until your face is buried against your leather couch, ass up as he pounded into you.

drool seeped out the corner of your mouth, babbling, “satoru-“ your moans were muffled, your head forced down on the couch by his huge hand while he slams his pelvis against your ass, cock sliding in with ease. he didn’t even talk to you— as soon as you were ready to give him a hug, he flipped you over the couch and pulled up the cute little skirt you decided to wear today, pulling your panties over one ass cheek to not bother himself with taking all your clothes off.

he struck your ass with his palm, then kneaded the plump to ail the pain. “gonna cum for me, princess? hm?” you nearly shrieked when he slapped you again, this time with more force inflicted. but you weren’t going to lie— having him treat you like this is more like a gift than it is a punishment.

“yes…” your voice shrunk, heavy breaths in sync with his thrusts. clawing onto nothing, you bit the inside of your cheek, suppressing your loud moans, still sober enough to realize that it’s late and your neighbors are fast asleep.

he pulled out almost completely, leaving you hollow until he pistoned into you by pulling your waist against him, the head of his cock nearly prodding onto your cervix. “fuck… i love your slutty pussy, milking so— fuck— so well...” satoru’s inability to shut the fuck up even when he’s this close to cumming is something that continues to amaze you.

starting painfully slow, his impatience eventually took over him and continued to fuck into you with deep, yet quick thrusts that happened to hit your spot, fluid spurting out of your hole and onto his abdomen. you gasp, legs trembling while satoru’s hips stuttered, cock twitching inside of you.

“yeah, yeah, yeah— ah god…” warm cum filled you full, some leaking out and dribbling down on the couch. he gave your ass one more struck, and you yelp from the prickling pain.

“satoru?” you mumble, turning your head slightly until he started moving his hips again, leaving you speechless.

he yanks you by the elbow, pinning your back against his chest, whispering against the shell of your ear, “not done yet, doll.”

GETO

“suguru, please…” you plead, eyes glossed with tears. you’re sitting on top of his lap, cock stretching your walls as his thumb brushed over your clit with lazy circles.

he just hummed, ignoring your pleas as he grabs the pudge of your hips, lifting them up and thrusting up into you, his balls slapping in between your ass cheeks.

you’ve been giving him the cold shoulder all week, all because of you started a petty argument about schedule differences. you knew he was busy, but his lack of communication was what pissed you off. on the other hand, he thought you were being unfair— he never complained when you had to work more hours than normal.

so if his words weren’t enough to get that in your head, then maybe he’ll just fuck it into you.

you rest your chin on his shoulder, hands draped around him as he kept a tight grip on your waist, switching between forcing you down on his cock and ramming into you himself by dragging his hips up and down. he gnaws on your shoulder, engraving your skin with his teeth marks.

“i wonder where you learned how to speak to me like that, love…” he breathes softly. his voice still has that tinge of tenderness in it, but you knew he was at his limit from the way he has that bruising grasp on you.

referring to the demeaning words you called him during your little quarrel the other day, he continues, “would you like it too if i talked to you like that?” when you didn’t respond, he wrapped his hand around the back of your neck, pulling you into making eye contact with him.

“answer.” his firm remark only turned you on, whining with a frail, “yes please.” at this point you weren’t even angry anymore— you were so needy and frustrated from the denial of release.

he chuckles, a smug smirk plastered across his face, single strands of his raven hair stuck on his forehead. “you really wanna know what i think about you?” he shifts his hips ever so slightly, knowing damn well it pushes you further into orgasm.

sighing, he cupped your cheek with his palm. “whore.” he tapped your cheek with force, not enough that it was painful, but it was degrading with no question. “slut.” he slaps your face again and grabs your cheeks, your lips puckering from the pressure.

he jerks up again, feeling him stretch you so deliciously that you couldn’t bare to hold it anymore, and suguru can tell. he clicks his tongue on the roof of his mouth, “cock hungry filthy girl,” he forces your face down to see with your own two eyes how fucking wet your pussy is for him despite swearing you hated him just hours ago.

letting go of your flustered face, you slurred, “please let me cum, suguru…” asking him in the first place was your first mistake, he only pressed his thumb onto your clit once more, taunting you.

he smiles, feigning innocence. “no.”

NANAMI

kento is a patient man. he considers himself grounded with his emotions, but something in the air today made him act more crass than he usually would in this situation.

long story short, you were being a little too friendly with gojo during the work dinner where everyone else could see, and it didn’t help that you were defending yourself instead of owning up to it when he brought it up on the way home.

it was embarassing for him— made him seem like a little bitch that some other man had his arm around you, whispering jokes against your ear while you giggled foolishly as if your husband wasn’t sitting across from you.

so you should’ve seen it coming that he wouldn’t just leave you off the hook when you got home.

it wasn’t long until your clothes are scattered all over the master’s bedroom, legs pinned against your chest as he pummeled into you, wet cunt clenching around him like you wanted this to happen.

the sheets were stained with puddles and splatters of your sweet release, his thighs and your pussy coated with a mix of his cum and your slick.

one, two, three, four orgasms? you couldn’t even count anymore. your cunt was drooling, stuffed full with his cum, it was impressive how he’s still drilling into you with such ease.

kento is pushing on the back of your thighs to keep your pussy wide open, your wrists bounded with his leopard tie that coiled around the headboard railing. “hah-“ he grunts, “dirty girl. you have no idea how much i wanted to fucking kill that idiot for even touching you.” he grits his teeth when he felt your walls squeeze onto him, his sweat dripping from his forehead down to your tummy.

your mind was so blank, every degrading word he’s saying seemed stifled, apparent by your eyes knocking to the back of your head and the drool trickling down the corner of your lip. the only thing leaving your mouth were moans of his name and curses, you were starting to see stars as the pit of your abdomen tightened, a sign that you’re close.

“kento— i- hahhh—” your attempt on a warning had no purpose as clear liquid gushed out of you, and the shock of your release rippled throughout your body, leaving you numb. kento only fucked into you deeper and rougher, his fat veiny cock pressing against your cervix.

“squirted again?” he’s laughing, followed by a groan when he felt that familiar twitch on his cock. “do you think gojo can make you squirt for him like this, hm?” that question was just plain vulgar, but he’s expecting an answer nonetheless.

you hold onto the silk restraining you, sniffling, “no… only you, sir.” your loving, tired tone only put him in the state of euphoria, closing his eyes shut as cum coated your cervix, keeping himself plugged into you.

as he pulled out, thick ropes of white, viscous fluid leaked out your hole and down your ass, taking a dollop to shove it in your mouth. you willingly take his fingers in between your lips, licking him clean.

you thought he was done this time— until he brought the fingers that were in your mouth down to your lower extremities, caressing your clit as he slid himself inside you once more. you sigh, “kento— i don’t think i can anymore…” every muscle in your body felt sore, but you still couldn’t bring yourself to say that word to indicate you want this done and over.

he pretended he didn’t hear your pleas, rasping as he pried your legs further apart, resisting your reflex to close them, “remember this when you decide to fucking flirt with another man again, slut.”

TOJI

this has to have been the third or fourth breakup in a span of 2 years dating this man. it just proved that you weren’t compatible for each other and the differing types of communication you two were comfortable with were clashing in the worst ways possible.

you were over it and decided to end it officially— for good.

however, toji wasn’t ready to let you go that easily.

his familiar black sedan was parked on the curb in front of your house when your first date after being finally single dropped you off. and of course, trying to stand your ground, you tried to tell him that you were done. to leave you alone or you’ll call the authorities.

but as they say, old habits die hard.

somehow you both ended up in his back seat, bouncing on his cock like you weren’t just trying to kick him out your driveway.

how else would have this toxic relationship lasted this long anyways if it wasn’t for the sex?

he chuckles, your nipple squeezed in between his lips, “what were you trying to say again? you’ll get a restraining order?” you were holding onto the handle of the car door for leverage as he groped your tit and smacked it, fascinated at the way it jiggled.

you hiss at the sting, “stop talking.” your collarbones were still littered with his love marks from previous nights and he notices them, “did your date even get a kiss tonight?” he teases as he took a chunk of your ass, manipulating your hips to move swifter in speed.

it was difficult to talk when he keeps slamming you down to the base of his cock, the sound of your slick smacking on his pelvis. “god— what is it— to you?” the incoherence with your words only provoked a laugh out of your ex, he thought it was funny how desperate you were trying to move on when it’s obvious you’d always go back to him at the end of the day.

you bite your lower lip, worried that someone outside could hear, but would that really help when the way his car is shaking gives it away?

he sneers, pulling your shoulder to draw you against his chest, face so close to his that you can feel his breath. with one last thrust, you yelped, keeping the head of his cock nestled deep in your cunt. “it’s just sad, babe.” he pouts, “you didn’t even bother to invite that bastard inside your house and instead would rather fuck your ex? was the date that bad?”

your mind was hazed, nodding before reaching in for a longing kiss, toji smirking against your lips. the date wasn’t bad at all but it was kind of a dud too— it just didn’t hit the same. nothing can compare to this.

he struck your ass once before gripping onto it again, moving your hips in accordance to his thrusts, tears welling up in your eyes as his cock jabbed against your sweet spot over and over. pulling away from the kiss, you chant his name like a mantra, “toji, fuck, mm- m’ gonna cum”

toji grunts, “okay, love. make a mess on my cock.” the familiar rasp in his voice was what set you off, and he was waiting for you to recuperate a bit from your orgasm before pulling your hips down once more, cock balls deep as he emptied himself inside of you.

toji curses and moans your name as you lean down for another wet kiss, feeling his cum pool in the pit of your stomach.

parting, he breathes, “still thinking of getting that restraining order?”

CHOSO

choso already wasn’t having a good day for some odd reason. maybe the weather? didn’t matter either way. and of course, being the sweet girlfriend that you are, you tried your best to distract him from whatever was bothering him.

when warm food didn’t work, you tried turning on the tv, seeking for some sort of entertainment. well— you could say it worked in his favor, not because of what was on the screen, but because the boring ass movie was what brought you to the present.

your panties were peeled to the side as choso freely slid his long cock in and out of your hole with ease, his sweats just hanging below his waist, moaning at how warm you are around him. “oh yeah- mm- feels good,” he reveres, whimpering as he hovered over your face.

choso almost never initiates sex— you usually do, but oh does it feel ten times better when he’s pent up and uses you as an outlet to take his stress out on.

your facial expression was scrunched, pursing your lips from how deliciously you were being split in half. choso had one of your legs over his shoulder and him leaning down, which pushed your leg closer to your chest— allowed his cock to plunge into you in angles unimaginable, leaving your jaw hung open.

choso’s mauve eyes were piercing onto yours as he collects saliva in his mouth, then sticks his tongue out, the globe of his spit making it straight down your mouth. he forces your mouth close, “swallow, pretty.” watching you as his saliva made its way down your throat.

you caress his cheek, “use me, choso.” if this is what gets him out of whatever negativity he’s feeling then you’re willing to let him take it out on you.

pecking him on the small of his cheek, he sits up, finding leverage by grabbing onto your tits, groping on them while he thrusts into you with more impact, apparent by the sinful slapping noises that followed. you tuck your chin in to get a closer look of how he’s stretching you, watching as his spit lands on your clit, using two of his fingers to rub it in, reveling at the way its so puffy and just… so wet.

his other hand skimmed from your tit to around your neck, the pads of his fingers pressing on the side, making sure he doesn’t restrict your airways completely. he’s so fucking turned on by the way your face looks, eyes half lidded, lips swole and tinted from biting onto them so much.

you whine, voice faint from the hand around your throat. “so deep…” your leg was still over his shoulder, his cock hammering into you and right up against your g-spot.

“fuck, that’s it— take me in just like that, fuck—“ he was nearing his release, holding it in so you could go first, rushing through your orgasm by swiping your clit as he slacked his hips to give himself time. always so sweet even when handling you like this.

you were so cock drunk that your vision went stark, a huge weight lifting off your body when you let it all out, your slippery cunt making it easier for choso to go ahead and lodge his cock deep enough to jam his cum in, with the intent of not leaving a drop wasted.

he keeps himself wedged inside you, letting go of your leg and neck, tapping at your clit with his fingers for one last tease. you stuck your tongue out, choso grabbing your tear stained face.

“did that feel good, baby?” he asks and you nod sheepishly, unable to speak from his hold and your aching throat.

another ball of spit landed on your tongue and you swallow with that vulnerable look on your face. he chuckles, “what a nasty girl.”

[007reid]

187. spencer reid (18+)

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader

summary: you're dealing with a dumb, whiny boy and you are wondering where your boy genius went.

warnings: 18+, sub!spencer & dom!reader, dumbification, whining, whimpering, overstimulation, handjob, orgasm denial, begging..you know the rest ;)

a/n: this is a result of too much ai spencer tiktok edits....wrote in a rush on my phone late at night but that's how fanfiction are meant to be written. enjoy angels <3 requests are open if anyone want to drop by!

“okay spencer, this is an easy one. can you answer it for me baby?" you pause expectantly, and it takes him a while, but spencer only mewls in response, frustrated. "what states are next to louisiana?”

you see spencer’s eyebrows slowly pent up in thought but then he immediately gives up in lieu of letting out another pathetic moan, bucking up uselessly to your fingers. “answer the question baby," you prod sweetly, kissing your words into his cheek.

“i-hnfgg…” he pants breathlessly, eyes shut tight and when they flutter open, they are round with plead. “please, it hurts so bad, please let me cum i—“

you let go of his cock entirely and he whines, trying to shuffle closer so that you would touch him. in response you move away further, smirk at your lips. “be a good boy for me and i will.”

“i am being a good boy for you!” spencer whines, his eyes blown with need and watering, body writhing pathetically against the sheets. his dick is flushed an angry red and you know he’s only several strokes away from coming undone, being so closely attuned to your boy. “i’m being good i—“ his words hitched in his throat as you gently caress only the tip of his cock, teasing.

“the good boy i remember is super smart,” you slide up to him, pressing a leering kiss on his jaw. “the guy has an iq of 187. can you believe that? how rare is that?”

spencer doesn’t answer, his pleas and whines soft and stuck in his throat as he keeps trying to buck up his hips to get more of your touch, but with no avail. “hm? how rare is it spence?”

“i don’t know!” he cries, tears leaking and wetting his pretty lashes. “i—please it hurts so bad, just please let me cum i’ll do anything, please!”

“answer me and i’ll let you cum baby boy,” you say smoothly, removing your hand from him (which elicited a very impatient groan) to spit on your palm before going back again, moving your hand up and down his shaft deliberately slow. you know it drives him crazy, even crazier than he is right now and you soak in the satisfaction of it. “how many people has your kind of genius spence? hm?" you add encouragingly. "get this one right for me and i’ll let you cum baby.”

“i…uhh….” he's slow, and even slower with your hand working and overstimulating his already-sensitive cock. “one out of every hundred million people. 1000 who ever lived,” he finally decides to peel open his eyes again, searching your face for any hint of approval. as a response you flick up your wrist quickly and he nods his head back, an obscene and needy moan coming out of his mouth.

“and the states surrounding louisiana?”

his head snaps back immediately and stares at you in betrayal, like a kid being scammed out of his cookie, completely flustered and debauched. “you said one question!”

“i changed my mind baby,” you soothe, pressing an apology kiss in the corner of his mouth. “the faster you are the faster you get to cum. do you want to cum honey?”

“yes! yes i wanna cum so bad,” he cries, hands coming up to rest lightly at your waist and you can feel the tremble in them. the heavy feeling at the pit of his stomach has been there for at least half an hour now and you’ve just been toying with it, reliving it then bringing the pressure back. now he’s an absolute mess, curly hair sprayed on the pillow and stuck to his forehead, his pretty, delicate face ruined with tear stains, but it just makes him prettier. he’s completely at your mercy, writhing and whimpering and begging you to do something about his looming orgasm and you denying him of it.

“then answer the question baby boy,” you murmur encouragingly in his ear, fingers still teasing him. he’s so sensitive and overstimulated to the point that a single touch can make his entire body jump, so you are careful. too much and he might actually loose it, and you both know this. “you remember it, right spence?” you press, "the question?"

“hnngg,” he whimpers when you start biting on the lobe of his ear, grabbing and squeezing onto the sheets for dear life. “umm…arkansas and… i-i don’t know,” he admits shamefully, then desperately tries to make up for it. “but i got the first one! you said if i get it i could cum. i’ve been such a good boy for you, just this one time, please!” he begs, not in control of what he says anymore and it shows. he’s completely delirious and fucked stupid, and you take pity on him.

“aww, my sweet boy,” you coo sweetly, running your fingers through his messy mop of hair and pulling it away from his face for him. “i’m sorry angel, but if you can’t get it right, you don’t get to cum,” you whisper faux apologetically in his ear. you see when spencer’s eyes widen with horror, and the tears begins to fall freely.

“please,” he begs, his fingers pleadingly reaching out to try to touch you, convince you to change your mind. it’s a foolish and naive attempt, and he knows it too but can’t help taking his chances. he’s desperate for anything. “please, i’ll be so good for you. i’ll be your best boy. i promise. i swear. it hurts so bad y/n please, i cant take it—“

“fine,” you give in, only because you know for a fact that he can't last any longer. really, you're surprised he's managed to make it this long so far; you had already planned his punishment in your mind. your boy deserves his reward.

you speed up your movements and the sounds coming out of his mouth becomes wanton, sobs becomes louder and his whines a pitch higher and he’s strung high like a violin string, ready to snap. “cum for me, pretty boy.”

at your command his body gives out obediently, thick strings of cum spitting out of his cock, painting your hand and his hips, coating at his thighs. he twitches and his thighs tremble weakly as small blurts of cum starts to collect at the tip of his cock and you kiss him during all of it as he cries against your lips. he pants hard, and when you accidentally swipe a finger over him, he whines painfully and inches out the way, sore. when it’s over, he collapses into you, spent.

“thank you,” he says, sounding genuinely grateful, his voice muffled and his face buried in your shoulder. you laugh, fingers smoothing out the mess of his hair, pulling his head back and pressing kisses all over his face. spencer needs the aftercare, especially after being edged on for so long, needs the love and the assurance and the cuddles afterwards. "i love you."

"and i you," you say, smiling when he whines predictably, unsatisfied.

"you gotta say the whole thing," he says, looking mildly upset, lips jutting out and giving you the fattest, most foul and adorable pout, eyes big and searching.

"'m sorry," you weave your fingers with his, and he presses a kiss against your knuckles. "i love you."

[cupidkyu]

can you repost the top Kinich hcs PLEASE

DOM TOP KINICH HCS

— gn!reader, brat taming implied,mean kinich,org4sm denial(?), degradation, overstim.

ts took so long 2 answer but yes,idk why it keeps taking down my posts but here ya go!!!

kinich definitely degrades you in an indifferent tone, making you feel inferior compared to him, looking down at you with a boring gaze as he fucked into you m1ssionary.

and enjoys tying your hands together! he likes watching you squirm and struggle against the rope bounding both your wrists together while he acts all gentle with you,yet his tip presses so firmly against that spot,youre whimpering and wailing for him to go faster,he'll give it to you, don't worry. but just stay as a good little toy for him, okay?

“you're so annoying.” he'd sigh, thrusting so deliberately slowly,his eyes never laying off of you,his nails digging into your neck as your hips buck up against him so desperately,your mewls only turning him more each time,“please- I-.. ngh~ kinich- I'm sorry-” you'd apologize pathetically,so pathetically. “for what? for acting like a lil' bitch? or sorry for not being able to satisfy me?” he spat coldly, punctuating his words with a harsh slam this time, letting out a quiet groan as a squeal escaped from you. of course,he didn't mean what he said. he just loves watching you protest,he just loves your little 'i can,i promise!'s. can you blame him?

kinich loves watching you beg for release,you wanna squirt,you wanna spill,just for him. but he never lets you,at least not so fast. he likes watching tears drip down your eyes,your bottom lip shaky as you try your best to speak and plead for him to allow you to come. he'll fuck into you so roughly,but warning you that if you ej4culate without his permission, he'll punish you!

sure,he's a little mean when hes wrecking you senseless,but he still tries his best to show you he doesn't mean to harm you in any way! you are his darling lover after all. however,it doesn't mean he'll pass up on the offer of watching his pet crying and sobbing to release!!!

you were throbbing from both pain and pleasure,your eyes rolling back as you moan repeatedly. “c-..come- please- I wanna- hnf~..! wanna come-! please- I-” you'd stumble between your words as he kept pushing himself inside you, cocking his head to the side as he speaks,“no, I've already told you. you're not going to, unless I'm close.” you nod weakly,not wanting to upset your lover. he rubbed your waist softly to remind you that he loves you a lot,hiccups escaping your throat as you took his cock<3 but you couldn't help but immediately fold when he pushes a little bit to deep and rough inside you, causing you to shiver and cream, earning a disapproving look from him.

kinich bends you over the bed, changing the position a little. his finger twirls a strand of your hair as you cry from the harsh,messy treatment you're receiving from him. your eyes twitching uncontrollably when he keeps rubbing that one spot. your thighs covered in light red from how harsh he was spanking them.

he keeps your head down with one of his hands as he wrecks your hole, squeezing and clenching around him as your legs tremble from the nth or4gsm. globs of tears staining the bedsheets as he keeps you pinned down.

oh how pretty you looked when hes fucking you like there's no tomorrow, finally letting you come but with a catch,he makes you spill over and over! your hair is tugged,yanked,used as a handle for him to use,your neck covered in bruises and bites. you were filled,so full, completely full. you could feel his cock over and over again while you're full of his sem4n. “does it feel good,hm?” he'd ask, already knowing the answer,his free hand tracing your back,“y-..yesh! feels so- goood~..! s-soo good~” you'd blabber. you could suddenly feel his palm against your reddened thigh,you shrieked so adorably, earning a chuckle from him as he practically splits you in half. he shoved your face down against the bedsheets,your now whines muffled as he continues to ram himself inside you,how long will this last? who knows! but you just feel so much at once while hes tearing you apart,maybe he should focus on making his beloved come over and over again!>_<

@cupidkyu

[grimdarling69]

Another de aged Dan and Ellie story or otherwise known as Crack

Pt 1 Pt2

If only Clark hadn't been busy tracking Luthor, he would have been able to save his nephew, his sons best friend.

Once again, Lex Luthor has sabotaged him. He didn't even need kryptonite to do it this time. After Lexs mental breakdown, he had apparently gone off the grid, and unsurprisingly, he wasn't able to hear anything from him. According to the snippets from Lexs staff he had apparently refused to answer to his name, started to hate it, and called his board a " bunch of idiotic bimbos who only appear to work so they could buy expensive cars and whores".

It's definitely a mental breakdown or a possession. Lex doing something to damage his image? Unheard of. Possession didn't seem likely. What kind of person posseses a ceo just to insult his board and completely change their personality? They'd be immediately noticed.

He had been investigating Lex's disappearance for the past month and a half and had only succeeded in not being around to stop his nephew from committing suicide.

Bruce had called out for him, but being halfway across the world he couldn't make it in time, and consequently Damian made it over the bridge and he had been searching for his body for the past 3 hours and he still couldn't find him.

He had never seen Dick so shaken before. Jason had barely been able to stop him from following his brother over the bridge. After he arrived on the scene, Jason started to take his brother home.

"Find his body." He had told him before turning and wrangling Dick onto his own bike

"Stop, Jay. I have to find him. Please... Uncle Clark, please. You have to bring him home. I have to... " He could hear Dick plead with them the whole way back to the cave.

He could only bring their bikes home.

They had now all retired to the cave. He was ignoring Alfred calling Steph and Cass in the other room. Ignoring their desperate denials and begging to be told it was just a cruel prank. Ignoring Dick's full body sobs into Jason's arms, shaking them both. Ignoring Bruce's absent look and ignoring how similar Bruce and Jason's grief was.

Tim, luckily, hadn't broken his leg like what they originally had thought, only popped his knee out at such an angle it looked like it. Alfred had already reset it and listed his usual recovery despite Tim not even pretending to listen to it this time. Duke had already helped him upstairs, eyes red and swollen.

Finally the the tense silence came to an end.

"Did you find anything?" Bruce, one of his oldest and closest friends, asked, his voice calm and steady, his heart unwavering as ever but he knew better.

"I'm sorry."

"Search again."

Just as he was about to fly out again, the elevator opened.

"I found this in Damian's room." Tim hurriedly spoke he was already rushing past him on his crutches to the evidence processing, not even explaining what "this" even is.

"Tim. Explain." Bruce rushing and limped past him following quickly.

Like father, like son.

"What is it?" He turned to look at Dick, he had tear stains but his eyes were dryer his mouth was set in a firm line but he was leaning heavily on his younger brother.

"Tim found something." He responded quietly, and he continued on following his friend.

They sat silently together while Tim and Bruce worked together without speaking like a well-oiled machine firm in it's objective.

He'd say Jason was as still as a corpse with his eyes glazed over unseeing, but that observation was far from appropriate,considering everything.

99% Match found. Partial fingerprints detected unknown. The computer had finally accounted after 15 minutes of silence.

He and Jason waited for Bruce and Tim to tell them instead of jumping like Dick did to get the first look. He doubted Jason could get up, Jason was strong so strong, but he was still so young.

They all were.

Especially Damian, despite all his headstrong confidence and borderline arrogance, he will still only fourteen.

Only fourteen years old and dead by suicide.

He still needed to tell Jon he was buying time by the well-timed expedition of him and Kon already off planet and galaxy on whatever Kon called "brotherly bonding with a little bit of interplanetary fighting and toppling monarchies splashed in and maybe we'll catch a movie on the way home" they had joined some green lanterns to help rescue some new green lanterns who got in between a revolution on accident. He remembers researching for days before letting Jon go, but even just the name of the planet now escapes him.

It all seemed so trivial now.

He had seen what became of Dick and Bruce when Jason had died when Dick had been off-planet, and Bruce hadn't reached out to tell him. He just hoped Jon could forgive him.

"Clark. Where is Lex Luthor." Bruce demanded turning to finally look him in the eyes.

"I'm not sure. Lex went underground a month and half ago. Why? What does he have to do with this?" Clark asked carefully. He had to be careful not to set Bruce off.

" AND YOU DIDN'T EVEN BOTHER TELLING ME? Bruce's voice rose exponentially.

Too late, he couldn't help but think.

"His fingerprints are all over this goddamn envelope. Whatever was inside made Damian kill himself, and you're asking what does it matter!"

"How do we know?" Dick spoke softly, his eyes still glued to the results.

Everybody turned at the same time. Jason's head snapping so fast he winced.

"Know... Know what?" Tim asks him just as softly.

" How do we know Damian is.. is dead?" He spoke again, looking up to glance at them all.

" I know Damian. He's my.. my...He wouldn't just kill himself. He couldn't have. He showed no signs of ever even contemplating it. Not even... Damian would have told me.. Would have trusted me to help him. Lex must have taken him or.. or somehow lured him away." Dick spoke hurriedly or desperate but still completely convinced.

"Chum.."

"FUCK!" Jason exclaimed standing up and kicking his chair sending into the wall hard enough to crack the plastic. His hands shook like they were itching to wrap around someone's throat. They twitched and he ran his hands through his hair, his eyes were greener than ever and glowed so strong there seemed to be a small headlight in front of him almost.

"He could be out there being tortured or worse! And we are just sitting here twiddling our thumbs like FUCKING BABIES!" His voice grew louder and louder until he was screaming into their faces.

"Jaylad-" Bruce started just by hearing that name he knew whatever Bruce was going to say was going to be the complete wrong thing.

"We are going to find him. No matter what it takes. I never gave up on Bruce, and i can't give up in my baby brother either." Tim spoke up, his voice unwavering his heartbeat never stuttering, not even once.

He risked a glance at Bruce. His old friends face was softer, looking at his sons, but his frown was determined, and he tilted his head in the way he always did when he wasn't going to give up.

They were going to bring him home. They just had too.

---------

Crack

Boy, was Damian glad about this storm. He quickly realized that he couldn't use more than one of his powers at one time. He was able to make it to the coordinates of the apparent luxurious island Vlad was hiding out on.

He was expecting actual underground, not just some shell company bought island decked in lead and man-made waterfall galore.

He was absolutely soaking wet and shivering by the time he crashed onto the island. The storm just kept on thundering down on him, plastering his clothes and hair to his face in clumps. He better not get sick from this.

Cold fog escaped his throat, and he shivered even more.

"Daniel! Is that really you?" Lex fucking Luthor called out after he'd been laying exhausted and chilled to the bone in the grimy muddy sand for a few minutes.

"Hey, fruitloop." Was the first and last thing that he said before promptly passing out.

[thebigbadbatswife]

OCT 5th - Orgasm Denial

Pairing - Jason Todd x F!Reader

Title - In For A Long Night

Summary - Another heist, another run in with the big, bad Red Hood. Only tonight he seems to want to drive you mad.

Warnings - Orgasm Denial, Enemies with Benefits, Jason is very mean <3, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Large Cock. Shameless Smut, Rough Sex.

Word Count - 860

“Hood, please,” you whine. Your legs are shaking, your body begging for release as tears slide the sides of your face. Red Hood’s gloved thumb is pressed against your engorged and overly sensitive clit, rubbing it in slow, tight circles that makes you feel like you’re on fire. 

All night he’s been teasing you. Those thick fingers of his toying with your clit over and over again. Bringing you straight toward the edge of your climax before pulling away and making sure that you don’t reach it. It’s completely maddening. All you want is to orgasm and he refuses to let you.

You hadn’t even meant to get caught by him tonight. Red Hood hadn’t even been on your mind. Your focus had been on making enough money tonight in order to pay your rent. You hadn’t even stopped to think that you might run into him.

But here you are. Lying on the cold marble floor of the penthouse you were in the middle of robbing. Your suit has been stripped from you. Lying in a heap along with your bag of stolen goods. 

“Something wrong, baby?” he asks. He sounds so condescending and it lowkey makes you hate him. 

You groan in frustration. Is this his plan to turn you away from a life of crime? You don’t get to come until you denounce your criminal ways? You have half a mind to shove him away and tell him to go fuck himself. Who’s he to think that he could change you considering what he did shortly after showing up in Gotham?

At the same time though, no one makes you feel nearly as good as he does. Even now, through your frustration, his thumb against your clit feels great. Better than great. Amazing. There really is no one else in this city, or world, that you can say that has ever made you feel quite like he has. 

You can feel yourself getting closer again. Your breath is coming out harder and faster and your moans growing louder as the muscles in the lower half of your body starts to tense. Fuck, you’re so close. So, so close. If he just keeps touching you…

As soon as the pressure against your clit disappears, you’re whining as you feel your impending climax quickly fizzle away. You hate him, you decide as you glare at him. You can’t see his face thanks to that stupid helmet of his, but you’re sure he’s smirking away underneath it.

You don’t even get a chance to voice your anger, when he’s suddenly flipping you onto your front. You hear the unmistakable sound of his combat pants being unbuttoned and unzipped. His hands grip your hips and force you up on to your knees, so your ass is sticking up into the air. It’s not a very flattering position, but you’re beyond caring if this means he’s finally going to let you come. 

Before you know it, the fat head of his cock is pressing up against the entrance of your pussy. Your walls squeeze around nothing, your body already anticipating what’s about to happen. It’s the only warning you get before he’s entering you with a single thrust, the slick dripping from you making it extremely easy for him to do so.

There’s no chance for you to adjust to the size of him before he’s dragging his cock back out of you and slamming straight back in. His pace is harsh and punishing and all you can really do is lay there and take it. You think it’s safe for you to consider your stolen goods forfeit. There’s no way, after he’s done fucking you, that you’re going to be able to get away in a timely fashion.

You’re getting close again, the pleasure building up faster than before. You hope that he doesn’t notice, even though you’re sure he already has. It’s hard for him not to with how your body is hugging his cock, clenching around him, as your moans become less and less coherent as your mind turns to mush. All of your focus going to your impending orgasm that you’re sure he’s going to take from you once more.

It’s like he hears your thoughts because the next thing you know is that you’re overcome with the feeling of being completely empty once more, your cunt squeezing around nothing. A quiet growl leaves you as you feel your orgasm fade away again. You look over your shoulder at him, your eyes narrowed.

“What the hell did I ever do to you?” you hiss. 

He nonchalant shrugs at you, like his cock isn’t rock hard, the head red and swollen and leaking precum and dripping with your arousal. “Shouldn’t have tried to steal from me.”

Now you are confused. What is he talking about? When have you ever tried to steal from him? You look around the room and as soon as you notice the wall of guns, that you had somehow previously missed, it hits you. Fuck. This is his place because of course it’s his place. You sigh.

“I’m in for a long night, huh?”

“Definitely.”

[humiliatingsluts2]

Daily Denial

I wake up early because the first thing I have to do is edge for fifteen minutes. While I’m still half asleep I slip my hand between my legs and find my cunt already dripping. I know my body is conditioned to expect my morning edge, and I’ve noticed every morning now I wake up needier and wetter.

I glance at the clock and confirm how long I’ll be edging: from now until 8:10am. I can’t avoid a small whimper escaping my lips as I rub. I let my hips gently move to grind against my fingers and I already feel myself reaching the edge. The pressure and sensation builds with each touch and I start panting softly. I start rubbing and humping harder. I can feel my wetness dripping down onto my thighs. I need to cum so badly, but I know I can’t.

In desperation for more relief, I finger my cunt instead of rubbing my clit. I need to feel full and I start fucking myself with my fingers. Instead of the immediate desperation to tip over into orgasm from rubbing my clit, I start to feel the familiar ache of denial building. I glance over at the clock. It’s already 8:08am. I shut my eyes and focus entirely on my cunt. I keep fingering and humping my hand until I’m almost certain two minutes are complete and check again: 8:11am.

Despite how hard edging is, I don’t want to stop. But I know my duties. I take my hand from between my legs. I’m embarrassed to see it covered in my wetness; my fingers are soaked. I suck them clean. Ever since my owner started forcing me to clean up after myself, this is the first thing I taste each morning.

I get out of bed and go make my breakfast. I flip open my laptop and bring up porn. I don’t get to choose the porn, I watch what my owner has sent me while I eat. Today he picked a video of a girl tied to a park bench and being fucked by several men. I feel my cunt throbbing while I finish my breakfast. The sounds of the pornstar gagging on cock fills my kitchen and I already know I’m going to need to edge again this morning. I message my owner, “Morning Sir. Please may I edge some more? This porn is so hot.” He replies a few moments later,

“Good morning slut. You may edge, but you’re going to be your own porn. Edge in front of your mirror and film it all. Watch how desperate you are.” I’m grateful for permission to edge, even though I desperately want to watch this pornstar get gangbanged for longer.

“What should I wear Sir?”

“Only heels.”

“Yes Sir. Thank you Sir.”

The moment I finish breakfast, I go back to the bedroom, strip, and kneel in front of my full length mirror. I realise in shame that I wasn’t even told to kneel, I just knew I belonged there. I take my heels from under my bed, and feel even more shame at realising these pink heels had only ever been worn for edging. I put them on and prop my phone up on the floor. I angle the camera to picture my entire body and face. I know what Sir will want. Even seeing myself in the camera viewfinder is making my cunt wet again. My naked body and throbbing cunt look like porn already.

I take my vibrator from beside the bed and press record. I start watching myself in the mirror instead. I can already see how horny I am: my face is flushed and as I turn the vibrator on I open my mouth and start to moan. Immediately I’m on the edge. I press the vibrator on my cunt and watch my body respond. I feel the need to cum already. My body shakes as I reach the edge. I lock eyes with myself in the mirror and turn the vibrator up. The desperation to edge is overwhelming, and I feel tears pricking my eyes. I know I need to edge hard. I know I need to cum. I know I need to do as I’m told. Every muscle in my body is tensed as I see how far I can push myself. I hear myself moan. I feel my cunt contract and tense as I get closer. I tear the vibrator away and fall forward onto my hands and knees. I won’t cum.

My breathing is heavy while I recover. I gently stroke my cunt to feel how sensitive I’ve become already. I take the vibrator and lick it. I’m becoming addicted to the taste of my own edging. I glance at the camera and think about my owner watching. I smile and start licking the vibrator enthusiastically. I picture sucking my owner’s cock while I edge and before I know it I’ve started edging harder again. I put the tip of the vibrator in my mouth and start sucking it slowly while I edge. I always think I look my best with something in my mouth.

I decide to edge hard one more time and then send the video to Sir. I start slowly trying to deepthroat the toy, I want to get some drool on my tits too. I keep watching myself. I focus on my cunt and how wet it is. I can see it dripping from my fingers, and I rub my clit harder. I need to cum. I need it so badly. For a second, I almost consider doing it, without permission. I don’t know how I’d be punished, but it feels worth it. The relief would be so much. I feel myself get closer and closer. I picture cumming, I picture how it will feel. And I stop. I won’t cum without permission. I can’t.

I lick my fingers clean and stop recording on my phone. I immediately send the video to my owner. It’s over half an hour long. I finish cleaning up and wait on the floor naked for him to respond. The feeling of being such a good edgeslut is so comforting and my body is glowing with pleasure.

—

Follow me for new writing every Friday.

[m00nl1ghts1vt]

Positive - Chris Sturniolo

Part two - Mama Pairings - bf!Chris x fem!reader Summary - When the whole house comes down with the flu, you have a hard time recovering which makes Nick jokingly plant the idea of two pink lines in your head. Warnings - established relationship, mentions of abortion, angst, mentions of pregnancy, fluff, crying 🥲 W/c - 1591 A/n - Hey!! Sorry I haven't posted all week 😭 Still working on getting into my inbox, it won't let me see anything on my phone or computer☹️ Also I just want to say thank you sooo much to everyone who has been interacting, I'm almost at 200 followers!!🫣 Masterlist Current Series - City of Love Top Liked - Pierced

Tears prick at your eyes as you look at the pregnancy test in your hands, the word 'pregnant' etched across the little screen. Your chest heaves up and down, and your heart thumps so fast you feel like it could shoot right out of your body. It was nearly two in the morning, your boyfriend was still awake playing a game on his PC, so you knew you had to keep your panic at a minimum.

The last few weeks, the whole house had been fighting off the flu - first Matt, then Nick, finally hitting you and Chris at the same time. Luckily, it cleared up quickly for the boys but not so much for you. Your sore throat and stuffy nose were gone but you could shake the constant state of nausea you were in ever since the seasonal stomach flu took over. Earlier in the day you were telling Nick about how you still felt sick to your stomach, but your other symptoms were gone, and he wittily came back with, “imagine if you’re pregnant.” Nick’s half sarcastic joke made your mind wonder. It wasn’t like you to not keep track of your period, but with the last couple months being jam packed that it slipped your mind. Pulling up your Flo app and noticing you were five days late; you made sure to add a pregnancy test to the weekly grocery order that the boys put you in charge of earlier in the day.

Somewhat in denial, you pushed off the idea of taking the pregnancy test all day, not telling a soul because you were sure it’d come out negative. That’s until the possibility of the test being positive ate away at your brain. 1:48AM and here you were - on the bathroom floor with your knees pulled to your chest, wide eyes, and trembling hands. Squeezing your eyes so tight that you feel a slight burning sensation when you open them. You hold your breath, hoping and praying the test you pinched between your fingers somehow magically changed from positive to negative, but you were wrong. It was positive.

Hot tears stream down your face, a small sob escapes your lips, and you quickly slap a hand over your mouth. You were in the hallway bathroom which was probably the worst place to have a private moment, it was the bathroom all the boys shared. Mentally scolding yourself for not using the half bathroom in the front of the house, you pull yourself to your feet and turn on the sink to splash water in your face. The raw reality smacking you, knowing only you and your baby knew of its existence made your head spin to the point you were dizzy. Despite rarely using protection, pregnancy wasn’t something you and Chris had talked about. He never talked about the future. If you were being completely honest, the dynamic your relationship with Chris had been more of a ‘go with the flow’ type of vibe. The idea of walking in Chris’s bedroom and telling him that you were pregnant with his child made your gut churn. You grip the countertop tight, taking a few more deep breaths in an attempt to fight off the nausea and lightheadedness taking over your body. When the feeling weighs down on you, becoming too much for you to handle, you drop to your knees, flipping the toilet lid up, and emptying your guts once again. You had been puking off sporadically all day long, and you lost count of how many times you had thrown up hours ago.

Continuing to heave violently, you drown out the sounds of Chris calling your name through the bathroom door, “babe? You okay?” And when you don’t answer him, only responding with hurling sounds, he decides to enter the bathroom anyways. Chris’s flu, along with both of his brothers, had been long gone, so it worried him that you weren’t recovering like normal. You look up at him, not fully processing the moment, the positive pregnancy test was sitting on the counter in plain view for him to see. He keeps his eyes locked on you, shutting the door behind him, “we got to take you to the emergency room in the morning, baby.” He shoots you a sympathetic look before hooking his arms around yours and helping you to your feet.

You suck in a breath as he engulfs you in a gentle hug. “Chris,” your voice barely above a whisper, still breathing heavily while your heart thumps violently in your chest. Chris rubs his hand up and down your back, soothing you more than he knew. He plants a kiss on the top of your head, “you need me to get you anything?”

Letting your eyes fall to the test, you let out another soft sob. It makes Chris pull away, confusion etched across his face, “what's wrong?” He asks you, placing each of his hands on your shoulders, concern laced through his voice. You stare into his blue eyes, letting them seize your momentary sadness. You let your eyes fall to the counter, not being able to tear them away from the pregnancy test. Once Chris notices, you can feel his body tense up and his eyes widen like a deer in headlights, “what the fuck is that?”

The harsh reality of his words hit you like a freight train, making you wish he didn't know. You step away, crossing your arms over your chest, and not daring to say a word. “Fuck man,” you watch as he tugs a hand through his hair, picking the test up and squinting in disbelief. “No fucking way!” he spits out in shock, his voice louder than before. Chris tosses the pregnancy test in the sink, placing both hands on the countertop as he leans over. He looked like he just got the worst news of his life.

To you, his actions were confirmation he wanted nothing to do with you or this baby. You panic, pushing past him, slinging open the door, and footing it back to his bedroom. Chris’s feet are quickly in tow behind you once he hears the soft sobs and sniffles you let out while trying to escape his pent-up rage. Finally in his bedroom, you attempt to swing the door shut behind you, but Chris intervenes, pushing it open with his hand. “Y/n,” he sounds quietly, the angry Chris was no longer present, but you didn’t care. His initial reaction had you shook to your core. It’s not like you expected him to be jumping for joy, but you wanted him to be supportive and not flip out like he did.

Now in Chris’s closet, you shove clothes into one of your spare duffle bags, not letting your eyes meet him. He has his body pressed against the door frame, blocking your only exit, “you’re not leaving.” You wipe your tear-stained cheeks and look up at him, “you don’t want me here.”

Chris’s face contorts with a mixture of frustration and empathy, he takes a deep breath before sitting on the floor with you, “I want you here, baby, I do. I'm just- I don't know.” Your face was swollen, and your vision was blurred from crying, but you could make out the pained expression etched across his face. A few tears slip from his eyes, and he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you closer and planting another kiss on your forehead as he rubs your back in a soothing manner. Anywhere with Chris was your safe place, knowing your boyfriend brought you so much comfort, you didn’t care about breaking down in his arms. You let the sobs erupt from your chest as he hugs you tight, “shhh, we're gonna be okay.”

“I-I’m so sorry Chris,” you choke out through your tears. Chris pressed his cheek to the top of your head, running his fingers through the ends of your hair, “none of this is your fault.” His soft tone relaxes you, helping you push your worries to the back of your head. Chris guides you through deep breaths, wiping the leftover tears from your cheeks once you’re calm enough. Letting his hands drop to your lap, “whatever you want to do, I’m here,” he reassures you. You suck in another scattered breath, nodding a few times before pulling the words from your throat, “I can’t get an abortion, Chris.”

“Then you don’t have to, Y/n,” he eases while rubbing a hand up your thigh, “it doesn’t matter what option you choose, I’m not going anywhere.” Throughout your relationship with Chris, you had never seen him with this much emotion. A few tears slip down his cheeks and his lip bottom quivers before he pulls you into another hug, this time tighter than before. Tangling his hand in your hair, “I love you.” You strangle out a laugh, “I love you," knowing how vulnerable the two of you looked on the floor of his closet, bawling your eyes out at 2AM.

In a way, the revelation broke through a comfort barrier the two of you always held onto so tightly. Chris being scared to commit and you having a hard time with expressing what you actually wanted from him. The thought of starting a family together freaked you and Chris out to no end, but both of you were ready for the blessing placed upon you.

He pulls back abruptly before pressing a kiss to your lips, “we’re gonna be great fucking parents.”

🏷️ - @lvrsturniolo @thepubeburgler @unknvhx @m11rx @ribread03 @emely9274 (if anyone else wants on my tag list just let me know!!)

[folkookie97]

❝ birthday gift ❞ — jjk

— SUMMARY: ❝ An argument with Jungkook on his 26th birthday has rough sexual consequences. Now you need to give him the best birthday gift ever. ❞

— PAIRING: boyfriend!jungkook x female!reader

— TYPE: smut | slight dark

— WORD COUNT: 718

— WARNINGS: rough sex, thigh riding, degradation, choking, punishment, use of pet name, curses, argument, slight dumbification, slight orgasm denial, mention of squirting, established relationship, Jungkook is a mean boyfriend, dom!Jungkook x sub!reader, Jungkook is wearing Calvin Klein

— NOTES: In the Korean time zone it's already Jungkook's birthday, so happy birthday to our bunny!

— RELEASE DATE: August 31, 2023

— CROSSPOSTING: ao3

"You're really a pathetic little slut."

How'd you end up in that situation? When the roles reverse and an intense argument like the one you two were having half an hour ago turned into that kind of humiliation?

How'd you find yourself on top of Jungkook, with your legs painfully spread apart and your pussy rubbing against the soft skin of his thighs?

"Just look at you..." He laughed but not with the sweet and gentle laughter that used to brighten up your days. It was a laughter filled with sarcasm, a pure reaction to how dirty you must appear in his eyes. "You called me vulgar and a people pleaser 'cause you were jealous not long ago. And now you're rubbing your filthy pussy against me like a dumb bitch."

When he chuckled for the second time, a whimper escaped from your throat and you strived to move your hips more forcefully. The slightest motion turned Jungkook's thick thighs into a pool of your cum.

The liquid's sheen could be seen from a distance. You noticed it as you quickly glanced at Jungkook delighted in the sight, biting his own lips and holding back the moans he wished to release. He was too haughty to admit you were hot as fuck.

"Dumb bitch." Jungkook mocked after the silence settled in the living room, replacing the faint wet sounds of your pussy and your moans with three consecutive slaps on your right buttock. "It's the best you can? You can't even pleasure yourself properly and yet you think you're worthy of wanting my cock?"

Tears welled up in the corner of your eyes with every word uttered by Jungkook as you increased the speed of your grinding.

Your crying could have several reasons: the pleasant but bitter friction that Jungkook's thigh hairs caused on your painful clit, the extreme degradations that was uttered by him at all times, the argument that continued Jungkook's birthday party and preceded the present situation.

You never imagined that you'd be spending your boyfriend's 26th birthday in such a sinful and humiliating way. Will Jungkook have imagined that the celebration at the beginning of the evening would leave him like this: shirtless, his torso covered only by a denim jacket, wearing white Calvin Klein underwear and watching you riding his leg?

Maybe Jungkook never considered this experience before, but he'd to admit; it was a glimpse of paradise. No matter how hard he tried to mask it, the touch of your swollen button against his bare skin turned him into a complete mess. He needed to cum just as much as he needed to see you cum too.

Before you could protest, a hand gripped your neck while his other one grabbed your waist and switched positions. As your back hit the sofa seat without any caution, you opened your eyes in pure shock to see Jungkook on top of your body.

"You're nothing but a needy slut. You couldn't cum even while rubbing against me like a bitch in heat."

You opened your mouth to defend your honor, shift the blame to the previous argument and express how unpredictable was his suggested resolution for the conflict. Did Jungkook really believe that watching you rubbing in search of pleasure would soothe the tensions between the two of you?

Or maybe not. Maybe Jungkook knew you'd be nervous and unable to cum. Maybe he simply wanted to humiliate you and reminds that you looked much more hot while being fucked than when you were shouting offensive words.

With his right hand still squeezing your throat and making it difficult for you to breathe, Jungkook used his fingers without tattoos to reach the waistband of his underwear and lowered it a few inches, freeing his cock that was dripping pre-cum and stubbornly stained the white cloth.

Unexpectedly Jungkook's left palm hit on your cheek in a stinging slap. The shock was prolonged as your boyfriend collected enough spittle on his lips to spit roughly in your face.

"I'm gonna fuck you until you squirt around my cock and fainting like a dumb little doll." He growled, five fingers grabbing around your neck and another five grabbing the flesh of one of your breasts. "Be the best birthday gift I could ever get."

[sanguineterrain]

Hi again 😊 You suggested i could send another prompt, sooo… maybe you & Jason have been together awhile, and you’re kidnapped by (choose your villain) and Jason is worried and frantic but trying to not show it of course, and negotiating for your safety? Ends up rescuing you of course, in whichever way you prefer, and then they find comfort in each-other 💗

I haven’t had time or energy to work on my WIP lately so this is very lovely and gratifying 😂👌🏻💗

aghh that's the worst! wishing you luck on your wip!! i'm glad you like these <3 requests are open for jason, dick, and MAWS!clark kent btw!

this one is very batfam focused hehehe. ft dramatic ass jason and his surprise kidnapped fiancé lol.

jason todd x gn!reader. tw: violence, kidnapped reader, reader is pushed off a building for a moment but they're okay dw <3, batfam feels, jason being a protective bf, bruce being a GOOD DAD! c:

****

"Actually, if we're being honest, if anyone has the most trauma in this family, it's—"

Batman grunts. "Really, Spoiler, not now."

The comm line crackles as Stephanie sniffs. "Fine. Stay in denial."

"Bats."

Every bat and bird in Gotham goes still.

"Hood?" Barbara asks carefully, already tracking his comm link.

"Oracle," he says, clipped. "I'm gonna get right to it: I need a favor. Can you help? Yes or no."

"Little Wing, where have you been?" Dick asks. "We've all—"

"Shut up, Nightwing," Jason growls. "Either you help me or not. Which is it?"

"We'll help you, Hood," Bruce says, voice washing over Jason like a balm.

Jason takes a deep breath. It's okay. He'll find you. Batman always beats the bad guys.

He fiddles with his jacket zipper. Moments tick by. Dick remains crouched on a rooftop. Damian is similarly poised.

"My..." Jason swallows. "My... fiancé's been taken."

The comm explodes with noise. Jason winces and digs the bud out of his ear for several seconds.

"Fiancé?!"

"You're getting married—"

"When was this—"

"Who are—"

"Enough," Jason growls, finally shoving the bud back into his ear. "I don't have fucking time for this. Yes, I am engaged, and they've been taken. No more questions."

"Tt. You are engaged? Impossible. Batman, clearly someone has hacked the line pretending to be Hood," Damian says, folding his arms.

Jason rolls his eyes. "Believe it or not, demon bird, I found someone crazy enough to marry me."

"Little Wing, I—I'm really proud of—"

"Shut up!" Jason pinches the bridge of his nose. This was a bad idea. You're in trouble, and Jason intends to tear Gotham apart to find you, but involving his family? Has he really stooped so low...

Deep breath. His focus is you. You're the only person that matters.

"Look, I'm telling you because Oracle's tracking me anyway, and B would snoop until he figured out who I'm really looking for, so it's easier to just tell you. But make no mistake: you aren't my family, and you won't see us again after tonight."

Bruce's throat tightens. His cape flutters in the wind.

"Very well," he says after a couple beats. "Last known location?"

"I'm sending you the address now. I've retraced my steps a hundred times though, and I can't—" Jason grits his teeth. He can't tear up or break things, not again. "Fuck. I can't fucking find them, B. I... I don't know if-if maybe I'm too late—"

"You're not," Dick says automatically. "We'll find them, Little Wing. We'll bring them home."

****

Your head is on fire.

It feels like there's a thousand needles pelting your skull. Whatever you were drugged with, it's hard stuff, and it hasn't worn away yet.

You look up; you're gagged and tied to some kind of support beam. As your vision clears, you see that you're in one of the new high rise-in-progress. Only the skeleton of the building has been completed because if Bruce Wayne isn't involved, construction takes forever to complete.

Faintly, you recall Jason mentioning something about a construction company leaving half finished projects across the country and using them as havens for criminal activities.

Yeah. This is not good.

"Where the fuck is he?" The voice echoes across the concrete floor foundation.

"Mike, we sent—"

"I don't give a fuck what you did; obviously, you screwed up! He's not coming!"

You close your eyes, trying not to throw up on your gag. Your head spins when you open your eyes again.

Who's not coming? Your rescuer? Or somebody worse than your kidnappers?

You try to take a deep breath, but your chest tightens instead.

"Fine," Mike barks in the adjacent room. "If that hooded psychopath doesn't show up, we'll just dump this one. That'll send a message. Prepare the explosives."

A door swings open, and you flinch. You cower, shrinking from the figure.

"You better hope he shows," the guy growls, and cocks his gun. "Your boyfriend is the only reason you're still alive. It'll be such fun to watch him fall to his death, don't you think?"

You try not to show your swelling panic. How does he know about you and Jason? And you have to warn him. Explosives. Jason's walking straight into a trap, without backup, because you know he'll be alone. He always works alone.

Mike sneers and waves the gun around.

"Oh, yeah. I know your secrets. In bed with Gotham's biggest crime lord. You must be his favorite. I can see why."

"Mike!" someone shouts. "We got company!"

Mike's eyes blaze cruelly. "Showtime. You're coming with me."

You thrash as hard as you can because if there's one thing Jason taught you, it's to always fight back.

Mike backhands you hard enough to send you sprawling. Your hands are bound, so you can't catch yourself, and you hit your head on the concrete. Blood pools in your gums.

"Try that shit again, bitch," he snarls, and hefts you up.

He drags you up a flight of stairs. Your head throbs, and now your jaw aches. You're too dizzy to try to fight back again.

You end up on the roof, which is a miasma of beams and wooden lattices. Wind cuts through your face, and you close your eyes so they don't water.

"Hood!" Mike crows. "Wonderful of you to join us!"

"Wish I could say the same," Jason says, and your heart leaps at the sound of his voice.

You start to shout through your gag because you have to warn him. It's a trap, he'll kill you both—

Mike wraps his arm around your throat and squeezes. Air stops, and you choke on your cries.

"I'll kill you," Jason snarls, and you know he wants to say more, but he's trying to protect you. "Let them go and maybe I won't break every bone in your body."

"Oh, don't worry. You two will be reunited soon. What is it they say? Love blinds you?"

"Michael Cassidy," a new voice says, deep and deadly. "Let go of the hostage. We can talk this out."

You crack open your eyes. Is that... Batman? And Robin? And... Nightwing? What—

The arm around your throat tightens and you gasp for air as you start to choke for real. Oh God. Batman's going to die because of you.

"You involved Batman?" Mike snarls, now truly irate. You feel yourself being dragged backward, toward the edge. Your stomach rolls in warning.

"Take it easy," Batman says, palms up. "We can work this out."

"You can't play fair?" Mike shouts. "Then neither will I!"

The wood beneath your feet is gone. You're falling.

"No!"

But no sooner than you fall are you caught. Warm arms encircle your waist, and you're jerked to a stop before you can fall more than a few feet.

"I got you, baby, I got you."

Jason is connected to a grapple. At the roof edge is Batman, Nightwing, and Spoiler, all holding the grapple.

You shake your head, screaming against your gag. Bomb. Bomb!

"'S alright, 's alright, sweetheart, I won't drop you."

You scream urgently through your gag, butting your head against his helmet. Jason pulls your gag half free and you choke out the warning.

"B-bomb!"

His grip tightens. "Shit. B, get out of here! Place is rigged to blow!"

The first explosion goes off. Jason meets your gaze. He's terrified, you can tell, but he tries to mask it.

"Let go," he says.

"Wh—"

"He'll catch you," Jason promises. "I trust him."

And then he lets go.

Several more explosions go off. The building begins to crumble. Dust and heat sweep across your face and lodge in your already sore throat. You scream, in the air for a few more seconds.

Then you crash into gray body armor. A cowl, a cape.

"It's alright," Batman gruffly says. "Hold on tight."

Batman swings you both to safety on an adjacent rooftop. You watch him dive back into the flames. It isn't long before Jason swings out of the smoke, then the others. He pulls off his helmet and tosses it to the side, arms open.

You run and bury your face in Jason's neck, clinging to him. He hugs your tightly and rubs your back, saying over and over, I got you.

You sigh and slacken out of exhaustion.

"I've got you, baby," he says, though his voice is wet this time. "You're safe."

Jason checks over your wounds. You see the rage cross his face several times at every bruise and cut on you. He doesn't let go of you even after he's done. He's shaking too, perhaps more than you, as he cuts your binds and completely removes your gag.

The Bats land gracefully behind you. Jason stiffens as they do.

You kiss his jaw. His gaze returns to you.

"You saved me," you say.

"I always will," he says. "Always."

"Are either of you injured?"

Batman suddenly swishes to your side. You blink, startled.

"Nothing serious," you say. Jason grunts unhappily at that. You manage a smile. "Thank you. All of you. Thank you so much."

Jason nods stiffly. "Thanks, Bats."

Nightwing smiles, face soft with affection. "'Course, Hood. And, uh, Hood's fiancé. We're there any time you need us."

"That's right, chum," Batman says. The obvious care in his voice makes you ache.

Jason had called his family. His family with whom he has a plethora of problems. He'd called them for you.

"Jay," you say, voice thick with emotion. He seems to understand instantly.

"I'll always bring you home," he vows, cupping your face. "Whatever it takes."

He pulls you to him like he can't bear to be away from you any longer.

You squeeze his wrists. "I know. It's okay, Jay. I'm okay."

Out of the corner of your eye, you see that the Bats still have not dispersed. Spoiler looks like she's about to melt into a puddle. Nightwing is the same. Even Batman looks a little sentimental.

Robin is the only one scowling, tapping his foot impatiently.

"Hood, are you not going to introduce your fiance-we-just-learned-existed-tonight?" Robin asks, arms folded.

Jason huffs. "Not with those manners, demon brat."

You roll your eyes and extend your hand to Batman. You say your name, smiling.

"It's an honor to meet you, sir," you say.

Batman laughs, and it sounds a little fond. It's also kind of weird to hear Batman laugh. "No sir necessary. It's equally an honor to meet the person my son is marrying."

Jason makes a choked little noise. You beam.

"Well," Batman murmurs. "We'll let you two get home. We'll track down the rest of Michael's thugs—"

"Come to the wedding," Jason blurts.

Batman stills. "Me?" he asks carefully.

"Everybody," Jason says, tugging you into his side. "Uncle Clark, Aunt Diana, Selina, your ten thousand kids, everyone."

He turns to you. "I-I mean, as long as that's okay with you, baby."

"Oh, Jay. It's your family. Of course I want them to come." You lean in to whisper in his ear. "I'm proud of you."

"Little Wing, c'mere!"

Nightwing tackles Jason in a hug, then drags Robin, who protests loudly, in by his cape. Spoiler snaps a picture from the sideline.

"Now that's adorable," she says.

Batman looks at you. He removes his cowl, and you gasp quietly. He smiles, and it makes him look decades younger. You guess he hasn't smiled much since he lost Jason.

"Thank you," he says.

You tilt your head. "For what?"

"For bringing him back to us."

You duck your head. "Oh, Mr. Wayne, that wasn't me—"

"Bruce," he corrects gently. "And it was. You played a bigger part than you know. You saved him. Thank you."

[kkayyerr]

Collar me.

Summary: You had always struggled with trying to find out where you actually belong, because Pogues never felt like an actual family to you. Until one day Rafe Cameron decided to show you just how exactly it feels to be someone’s belonging.

Pairing: Dark!Rafe Cameron x Pogue!puppy!reader.

Warnings: NSFW, Kidnapping, dub-con, weapons, swearing, degradation, humiliation, pet-play, orgasm denial, fingering, Dom!Rafe, Sub!Reader, slight dacryphillia, ownership.

Words count: 2,2 k

You knew that the Pogue’s lifestyle wasn’t for you since the first day you had joined them. Of course there was something exciting about all those trips and adventures, but somehow you felt lonely even in the large group of people. They had given you love and support and tried to make you get used to their lifestyle, but it still wasn’t enough for you. 

You still had a feeling that you didn’t belong with them.

That you don’t belong anywhere at all. 

You wanted something else; you wanted a quiet life under someone’s protection. Sometimes you just wanted to give control into someone else’s hands. 

Sometimes you just wanted to be controlled.

Of course you could never admit that, though. For Pogues, it sounded like hell, like something they would never expect to hear from you or each other. So you kept your mask on, trying to forget about those peaceful life dreams. How could your life even become peaceful when even a night at the open-air cinema had turned into pure chaos?

You were standing by, looking at how Kooks suddenly started to outnumber your friends. It started with only Rafe and Topper, but the others showed up also. You knew that you shouldn’t have dived into their conflict, but you just couldn’t stay there and watch your friends getting severely beat up by a group of assholes.

You approached them and stood right between your friends and Kooks. All of them were breathing hard, preparing for another round. You quickly jumped right onto Rafe, kicking him in the chest, not harming but definitely getting his attention and winning some time for the Pogues.

 

„So you’re not going to hit me? What a gentleman.”

 

You knew that your behavior was going to ruffle his feathers, and you were doing that on purpose. The idea of pushing his buttons was somehow exiting to you, even though you couldn’t explain why. In the pale moonlight, you saw his face. You noticed that his expression wasn’t angry nor annoyed, no. 

He was smiling. 

That smirk sent chills down your spine; something about him was off. 

 

„I have a lot of better ideas.”

 

Right after he said that, you heard a couple of gunshots right behind you. You quickly turned around, trying to find out who had the gun in their hands, but the last thing that you saw was Pogues running away for their lives, clearly leaving you behind. At that point, you didn’t even care who had the gun; you just wanted to burst in tears there and then. 

Just a second later, you felt hit on the head from behind. Not hard enough to traumatize you, but clearly hard enough to knock you out.

The whole world turned black as your body felt down to the ground. 

…

„Where am I?”

 

It was the first thought that popped up in your head as you woke up in the strange place that obviously wasn’t your bed. You were completely naked, your whole body was sore, and you felt a little dizziness when you tried to stand up, so you just laid back. You also felt something on your face, but you couldn’t tell what exactly that was until you touched it with your hands. You quickly stood up, as the loud gasp of shook almost escaped from your mouth when you realized what exactly that was.

It was a muzzle.

Muzzle was covering half of your face, so you could've spoken but still would feel yourself uncomfortable enough. The one who did this to you didn’t want to gag you; they wanted to torment you using some twisted methods. You start exploring your body, looking for at least something, like bruises, cuts, or the least hand marks. But there was nothing. Your body was clear, and for some reasons it made you even more anxious. Because if nobody had touched or hurt you before, they most definitely were waiting for you to wake up. They might want you to actually feel the pain.

You started to spin your head around, trying to find something that would give you answers to all the questions in your mind. The room was empty; there was nothing. Only one window. You felt almost sick in your stomach as the view started to look very familiar.

You were in Tannyhill.

Your knees got weak, and you fell to the floor, covering your mouth with your hand. Slowly, memories started to kick in. Fight, gunshots, pogues leaving you behind—you're getting knocked out.

The puzzle was finally pieced together.

 

„You look way better without those Pogue clothes, you know?”

 

You almost jumped as you heard those voices behind you. Of course, you knew who was standing there. You slowly turned around; your face expressed pure hatred and anger towards the person who did this to you. Rafe Cameron was standing a few steps away from you; his face relaxed at first, but then his lips tugged into a small smile as he saw your face in the muzzle. He definitely was proud of what he had done.

 

„I decided to keep you around instead of killing you. I figured I could use you. At least for my entertainment.”

 

He stated, completely ignoring your warning gaze, filled with rage. You twisted your knuckles, trying to manage your emotions, but you failed, as you saw that little grin on his face that almost made your blood boil. The next moment you quickly approached him, wanted to attack him, and protected yourself at least somehow. Prove him that he was wrong.

Suddenly, you froze.

 

„Try something stupid again, and I will show you just exactly what happens to wild animals.”

 

He pressed the gun upon your head, just a moment before you could’ve actually done something to him. The hatred in your eyes now had turned into the fear. You didn’t expect that he would still have a gun with him, but you were so obviously wrong. He had the gun, and he definitely had you in his hands. He had you under control. 

 

„Don’t make me put a shock collar on you, puppy.”

 

Your lips twitched in disgust when the word „puppy” came out of his mouth. Sadly, there was nothing you could’ve done about the way he was treating you right now, and you fully acknowledged that. You slowly looked up, your gaze met his, and your skin was covered in shivers once again when you realized that there was no guilt in his eyes.

He most definitely was a psychopath.

And you most definitely were turned on. 

 

„I am not an animal, Rafe. You can’t do this!”

 

Your words only made him smirk. Of course he understood that you were a human being, even if you were a Pogue, but who said that human beings can’t become good pets? Rafe never liked animals, but he had certainly liked control and would definitely like taming a pogue. After all, you didn’t seem like a typical Pogue to him; something in you was different. 

 

„Well, your friends dumped you, so now it seems like you’re going to be my lapdog.”

 

He finally took the gun away from your head, but he was still holding it, just in case you’ll think about doing something stupid once again. He was really regretting not tying you up in the first place.

 

„And if you’re lucky, I’ll throw you a bone and give you a little pet on the head.”

 

You hated yourself so much for the fact that you were getting wet from his dirty words. Part of you, the one that had some self-respect, wanted to slap him across the face and watch how his smug expression would slowly disappear. But the other part didn’t want him to stop at all. 

 

„I will never be your little puppy, Rafe.”

 

You said, trying to keep your voice stern, even though your body had already weakened just from all the nasty thoughts that had filled up your little head. Fuck, isn’t that exactly what you wanted? He sighed, not impressed by your little attitude. After all, you were a pogue. A stubborn little girl without manners.

 

„It’s sad, you know? I thought that we were about to have our first playtime.”

 

You raised your eyebrows, obviously intrigued by his words. Mostly, you wanted to find out what he had meant by the word „playtime," even though you already had a lot of ideas in your head. While you were thinking, Rafe slowly put the gun on the nightstand and carefully inserted his hand into the pocket of his black trousers, searching for something. You were also invested in what he was doing. It was very interesting for you to find out what he was looking for. And when he finally found it, your eyes widened. He was holding a pink, beautiful collar in his hand that said „R.C.”.

 

„I won’t be wearing that.”

 

Rafe approached you, still holding the collar in front of your face, teasing you. He saw that glimpse in your eyes. You wanted to wear that little thing; you wanted to wear that so badly, but you were way too embarrassed to even think about admitting that and way too shy to say it out loud.

 

„Oh no, you’ll have to beg me to let you wear that. Being Cameron’s property is a big responsibility.”

 

You shook your head in disbelief. He was an idiot if he thought that you would actually ask, nor beg for something as humiliating as that. Of course, you wouldn’t, at least not right now. Even if you wanted too. Deep down, you also wanted to see how far he could’ve pushed you before your mask would��finally slip off. 

 

„I think my friends will come for me anytime soon, so if I were you, I would quit those games.”

 

His eyes darkened for a quick moment, which surprised you because you didn’t know that he would take that childish threat seriously.

Your own face expression changed from slightly smug to confused when you felt his hands around your waist, tugging you closer to him. The next second he turned you around and roughly pushed you towards the wall, practicality pinning you against it. 

His hand quickly spread your legs without any pressure. To your own surprise, you didn’t even try to stop him; you didn’t even want him either. He leaned closer to your ear; his fingers now were teasing your outer lips, while your cunt was practically begging for his attention. 

 

„I bet you’ll come faster than your friends would, puppy.”

 

You were almost dripping wet. When his fingers finally dive in and almost immediately hit a spot, you let out a whimper, which then became a whole symphony of your moans as you arched your back from the torturous pleasure. It felt too good to be something bad or shameful. Rafe started to circle your clit, still not giving it enough attention for you to cum, but just enough for you to be on the edge, scratching the wall with your nails.

 

„Please”

 

Rafe chuckled at your plea, giving your clitter a little pitch and watching you squirm and muffle something; that would’ve most definitely come out as the loud scream. He just kept on teasing you, knowing that you would’ve cum in two seconds if he only touched your clitoral area properly. 

 

„I’m going to...”

 

Rafe suddenly stopped, not pulling out his fingers but also not making any moves. He grabbed a fistful of your hair, making you tilt back your head. He wasn’t done with you yet, and he wanted to teach you some manners. Rafe wanted to make sure that his pet would be on her best behavior.

 

„I’ll let you cum if you say something for me, deal?”

 

You automatically nodded, feeling how his fingers begin to play with your clitter again, this time softer, which somehow was even worse than his previous rough actions.

 

„You have to ask me to collar you, puppy.”

 

Your eyes widened at his words, even though you weren’t that surprised. You knew that he would pull something like that, because he always fucking did. Your knees got weaker, and your whole body started to shake as you felt that you were actually so close to finally cupping.

 

„C’mon”

 

Rafe taunt, his fingers getting rougher, teasing your clit and your inner walls, dangerously close to making it impossible for you to hold it in. Tears of overstimulation flashed down your cheeks as you finally felt ready to say those words out loud. 

 

„Collar me, Rafe.”

 

Just a small touch on your clit was more than enough for you to finally reach your breaking point. Moans of pleasure mixed with sobbings of embarrassment came out of your mouth right after you got your relief. 

Before you could’ve even thought about saying anything, you felt how something had been wrapped tightly around your neck. You knew exactly what that was, and for some reason that knowledge calmed you down. 

Now you were wearing something symbolizing your loyalty and, most importantly, your belongings. 

The pink collar with gold initials on it wasn’t looking that bad on you. 

„R.C”

Maybe the life of a property will suit you better?

[asterdisaster06]

Rottweiler's Callsign Story

platonic 141 x reader

summary > The mission was supposed to be an easy in and out stealth operation; however, you getting cornered by enemy guards that weren't drawn out by the team's distraction left you to desperation. Such circumstances resulting in unsavory acts needed to get out alive and back to your team. Half the blood on you might not even be yours, but you're out alive and safe.

word count > 5.6k

warnings > graphic description of blood and violence, like i'm not kidding. medical terms used to describe some of the gore. reader is described like a feral dog.

ao3

You had always been quite animalistic in your ways, vocal on the battlefield with snarls and hisses escaping your lips through the sheer effort of your tyranny. Grunts and growls being a point made to enemies you faced before absolutely thrashing them to death. Your skills with a gun whether a handgun or an assault rifle were top tier, your training made sure of it, but your real talent laid in hand to hand combat. Specializing in utilizing your own body and surroundings to tear your enemy down. It was something that had confused and yet impressed your teammates on the taskforce. They stared at you with something akin to visceral horror and pure adoration when you save their asses more than they can count. 

Whether that comes from tackling the one on top and pinning them by their throat or managing to spot an enemy that they had missed on their six. Either way, any way, they were significantly impressed by you and your prowess. Your expertise offered something new to the group. Your bones held your pride that was either to be completely snapped or remain unwounded. Your muscles flexed to show the pride that was your mortal self. Your teeth were bared to the world like a stray dog. And in a sense, that was what you were.

You were found by Laswell and Price with your fur matted and your teeth too sharp from eating trash-thrown bones. Metaphorically of course. Literally though, they were your saviors. She took you off the previous military base you would’ve died on and Price raised you like his own flesh and blood. He took the limping, ugly mutt and showed a kindness you had always heard directed at others but never you. You learned to not bite at the hand that feeds you. 

The others came later once you were settled in - learning very little of your past; only knowing what you had seethed through tight lipped smiles. At that point you were known simply as ‘hound’ to them. You’re not entirely sure how or when it came about, but it seemed to fit you for the moment. 

You weren’t exactly talkative, similar to Ghost in that aspect. That’s not to say that you didn’t learn to open up and trust, especially when you were on a mission that required trust and teamwork. Collaboration and communication were the foundation for the taskforce, and it wasn’t something you could opt out of. You mostly sat back and smiled at a few of the jokes shared, but the one time you spoke to add onto the dark humor from Simon scared the shit out of them. Even Simon was a little caught off guard despite his vehement denial. It was the start of the blossoming friendship between you and the team. 

This particular mission was no different than the others. Or at least, it shouldn’t have been. Unfortunately, the world had different plans in mind for you and the boys. 

Soap had been talking your ear off and you listened in with a small smile on your face at his antics. It was amusing to you that he wasn’t put off by your scars, both physical and mental. He looked past them, not quite ignoring them but not pushing for you to spill the story behind them all if you weren’t ready. You were forever grateful for that. Gaz was in a similar vein, learning to eventually see you for who you were. Sometimes he poked and prodded you, but only in the intentions of helping you. Especially when you refused to see a therapist. Not after the last incident.

Ghost respected you at face value. The mask was who you were to him, and it didn’t make a difference in the slightest for your identity. It was a refreshing contrast to the other two who were not exactly openly prying, but their curiosity emitted from them like radiation. And you didn’t need a geiger counter to see that being near them would eventually unravel your DNA containing your secrets. Ghost simply left your skeletons in the closet lie. A needed deviation in your life. 

This mission required you to sneak into the compound in order to collect intel about nuclear weapons that a recent terrorist group had gotten their hands on. Obviously, that was a paramount issue that Shepherd had wanted the taskforce to take care of. Your boys would be creating a distraction away from your position, eventually creating a path to your location for a safe exfil after they had planted bombs around the compound. This establishment wasn’t going to be left standing after you guys were done with it if you could help it. 

“Is everyone clear on their positions?” Price’s voice breaks through the disassociation your mind had thrust you into. 

The ringing in your ears faded as the chatter began to quiet down and focus was injected into your veins. There was a small nagging feeling in the back of your mind, but you brushed it off as simple leftovers of anxiety growing mold in the fridge of your consciousness. You responded with a simple affirm alongside the rest of the team, eyes beginning to lose the dazed look within the cornea. You blink once and then twice as you take in your surroundings and run your tongue over your sharpened canines. 

Your muscles tense with anticipation, letting your legs carry you out of the truck that was about one klick from the objective. You were to be going on foot from here to avoid raising suspicion. The treeline would offer some cover for the infiltration attempt, the leaves in full swing. Unfortunately that also meant so were the bugs and thorns. You would just have to deal with it, although Soap wasn’t so easily placated.

“Fucking hell,” Soap exclaims, swatting at a very vague buzz that was swarming him.

“Here,” Gaz says, throwing Soap a can of bug spray. 

The droning and whirl of wings belonging to insects that lived long before humanity came about offers you a weird amount of comfort. It’s almost a commiseration of sorts between the creatures that nobody wanted around. You and the acarids. Nonetheless, you cover yourself in a self assumed shield of the spray that sticks to your skin in a way that makes you almost uncomfortable. The thorns and sticks pricking you through your tactical gear brings you relief. The opposite from what you presumed the others were experiencing.

It’s not like you were a masochist, peace and comfort have just never quite been something you’ve gotten used to. It’s what you’ve known most of your life and it’s what you’ll continuously go through. Much to the chagrin of your boys.

Speaking of, they appeared to be having varying levels of reaction to the harsh woodland environment. Soap has been openly complaining, although you knew it was mostly to break up the monotony of the trip alongside easing the anxiety of the others. He knew just how to utilize his personality like that and he wasn’t scared to come off as brash or even semi-annoying. You try to humor him enough to keep that spark going in his soul. That’s honestly a thought that keeps you up at night; Soap becoming like you or Ghost.

Gaz was experiencing his classic bad luck; truly trying to avoid any muddy spots or tripping on an exposed root, but it appears that it wasn’t working out for him. He had tripped over his own feet two times, an exposed root five, and almost twisted his ankle thrice. It was almost as if the woods had it out for him. You wince and make that last thing four times now as Gaz tripped over a small pebble and had to execute an almost ballerina-esque move to avoid falling face first into a puddle. It made you huff out a laugh, earning you a middle finger in your direction. Gaz truly does try his hardest in everything he does, placing expectations upon himself that nobody else even thinks of. Pressure mounting upon him that moves you to make sure he takes care of himself. You’ll be damned if you let him drown himself in the same way you do. 

Ghost was similar to your apathy, although you could tell from his body language that he was in as much discomfort as Soap was expressing. He refused to let even a slip of a grunt or groan escape from his sealed lips. His combat boots were sinking into the mud as much as Gaz, but he had significantly more coordination and confidence in his steps than Kyle did. You observed him quietly, seeing thorns stick into his skin - likely releasing the red ichor of his mortal body. Nonetheless, he braved on with only a slight wince betraying his emotions. It reminded you of how he faces his own torment and demons with nothing showing to anyone around. Not unless they’re particularly attuned to him and his distinctive micro-expressions. You know this as well as anyone, so you make a conscious effort to try and get Simon to open up to you. Not a lot, and sometimes not at all, but enough to sand down the roughness around his edges. Enough to heal him one scar at a time. 

Price was admonishing Soap for being so loud and semi-obnoxious. All in good fun, at least, at the distance you were away from the location. Given that Price was back at the car, you couldn’t exactly see what he was doing or his own personal quirks. However, you had known him long enough to know his personality and behavior. You had spent a good chunk of time analyzing the man that had offered you not only a position on this team, but a hand to help you up from your back-alley way of living. He was a tired man that needed some positive affirmation in his life if you were being honest. He had this entire team on his back alongside his position that designated him to a life chained to his work. His title delegated him to the duress that came with everyone expecting victory from you. It’s probability is down right improbable for him to always come out on top. Although, you doubt that he’s come to terms with that idea. You try your best to offer support in your own way, realizing that words alone aren’t going to cut it. You try to guide him to sleep if he’s too caught up in paperwork or offer him a cup of coffee just the way he likes it if an all-nighter is inevitable. You want to be there for him like he is for you. 

Laswell’s voice cuts through the comms and snaps you from your stupor. Kate Laswell. She offered you kindness while others offered you chains. She let you into her life instead of caging you like a feral animal. She took the muzzle off of your maw and let you speak. She presented you with a purpose outside of being a killing machine for your previous team sent in with no regard for your health or happiness. She gave you a life. One of your own. A team that you could rely on with a street of protection that goes both ways. Possibilities were opened up that you had never dared to dream of beforehand. You owed her your life, and that’s what you fought with on every mission. 

“You’re closing in on the base. Can we get a general overview of how it’s going?”

You smiled and shook your head before the Scot even opened his mouth.

“How’s it going? Oh wonderful, absolutely joyous,” Soap spoke with mock annoyance, good-natured humor shining through despite his tone.

“All is well, the intel we were given appears to be good. There should be no difficulties from our view over here,” Ghost answers, genuinely. 

“Affirm, I’m all set and ready here, Kate,” Price speaks, his commanding timbre sending rumbles down your spine and through your nervous system. 

“Remember, get in and get out, don’t get caught up in the blast,” Kate reminds you all, as if you could forget. 

A chorus of proclaimed agreements echoes throughout the trees of the forest. The silence that falls over the group afterwards makes you tense up and get into the mindset of the feral mutt that has kept you alive for this long. Your breath ends up heavy, saliva coating the inside of your jaws as you harshly swallow it down - almost choking every time you do. Your shoulders rise and fall in time with your respiration. Ghost checks in with the group one last time before you’re sent off first into the craw of the compound. Being a sacrifice is nothing new to you, but it still causes you to shudder in anticipation. Goosebumps rise all across your skin despite the temperature dictating otherwise. 

You wander forward, joints creaking in protest as you sneak around the side of the building. It’s inevitable that you have to utilize your knife, but you use it sparingly - not wanting the alarms to ring because some unfortunate soul stumbles upon the body of their fallen comrade. It’s almost second nature to you at this point and you would’ve zoned off if it wasn’t for the pure adrenaline rushing through your system.  You finally reach point A in which you reaffirm with the rest of the boys that the plan is a go and no complications have arised. 

You hear a plethora of acknowledgements before you begin to move forward with the permission of Ghost and Price. You snake cam the door before lock picking it after deeming it safe. There didn’t appear to be any enemies nearby much to your satisfaction. The less possibilities for this plan to go wrong, the better. It’s a waiting game as you come upon the stairwell door leading up to the room you were meant to infiltrate. The clock ticks down, the beats of your heart sounding out in your ears as a unit of measurement. 

Boom.

It’s the signal for you to proceed as all of the cameras are abandoned with the clicking of the gun trigger replacing the clack of keys in the office. You were all set up and ready to acquire the real reason your mission was handed out. Pushing past into the stairwell, you’re met with the surprise of an elbow to the face, effectively causing a gush of blood to start trickling down your face. Despite the advantage the enemy had from his effort of concealment working to catch you off guard, you gained your balance back quickly, and the pounding of your head did nothing to quell the vexation that led you to putting a knife in the guy’s eye. You shoot a bullet straight into his cranium with a glare, just to cover your tracks. 

You lick your chapped lips, tasting the metallic mouthful you had gotten from your little scuffle. You didn’t hear a crack, but it was definitely going to be a pain in the ass the next day. Nonetheless, you pushed on, aiming to be more aware of your surroundings. There was an odd lack of guards around the area for what seemed like the main structure. It set off warning bells in your head, but there was no turning back now. From the gunfire sounding out from below it seemed that the others would be too caught up to engage in a verbal conversation regarding your worries. Not like you weren’t confident in your own abilities, quite the opposite, but Price had managed to drill into your head that not everything had to be faced alone. Jokes on him, this situation had the appearance of it being a one man operation. 

You and your blood soaked sleeves made your way to the computer where you gathered yourself into a semi-coherent being in order to upload data from their system. The hard part was already done for you; all you had to do was plug a hard drive into a computer and wait. And that you did. You almost felt sorry for getting their keyboard all slick with your carnage escaping from your sinuses. It also felt as if you had bitten your tongue during the altercation, your mouth being yet another outlet for the liquid escaping you. You spat on the floor, maroon saliva staining it. 

Running down your neck, the blood seemed to stop at that point, trickling off into a simple seeping of gore. You consider yourself lucky, just in time for the information to be uploaded onto the hard drive you were given. You report over to Price and Laswell, a slight lisp imbued into your words due to the tip of your tongue suffering from puncture wounds your teeth had embedded into the soft muscle. They understood you perfectly fine however, and you were instructed to continue with the orders you were given. At that moment however, the lack of communication on your part about your suspicions of an ambush was coming back to bite you in the ass. Almost literally. 

A gloved hand smothers your mouth, effectively suffocating you. If the arm around your throat and its connected hand stifling your ability to productively breath wasn’t enough, there was now a knife lodged in your side. Your attacker drove the knife you suspected he took from your gear even further into your abdomen, twisting it like he was wringing out the last of his laundry. Except you were the clothes and your blood was escaping you, much to your chagrin. Fortunately for you, this particular guard was practically brain dead when it came to medical knowledge, so you were pretty confident that you were going to live. That is, if you could escape without being asphyxiated to death. 

You maneuver your maw into an opportune striking position, opening your jaws like a dog being thrown a bone. The coincidental nature of that thought would’ve made you laugh if you weren’t currently on the verge of being slaughtered and gutted like a pig. You chomp down and dig your teeth into the metacarpals of his skeleton, relishing in his grunt of pain and attempt to recoil. You were like a dog with a bone though, and you’d be damned if anyone tried to take it from you. His attempt to pry your jaws open with the hand that soon abandoned the knife in your side after the puncturing of his palm. You ground your teeth into the fat of his hand before realizing the glove was going to be an issue. You turn your teeths’ attention to his exposed wrist, aiming for his radial artery. Unfortunately for him, your fangs found their intended target and perforated his skin. You threw your head back, grasping his arm with your other hands - clawing at it like a feral beast. 

You effectively were one, your mouth full of flesh and muscle that didn’t belong to you. Although, you suppose that one could argue it didn’t belong to him either. Not anymore. You spat out the pulp of tissue, realizing that he had let you go. You put a bullet right through his eyes, spraying blood and brain matter across the room. Well deserved for someone like him. You drive your boot into his lifeless corpse, really kicking the man while he was down. Your joke, although knowing nobody alive was around to hear it, made a hysterical laugh claw its way out of your throat. Your larynx had really betrayed your deranged and volatile behavior. Your manic nature had kept you alive so far, so you supposed you had only yourself to thank. 

You shoved your bloodied tongue around your mouth, hoping to wash out the taste of human flesh. It wasn’t the worst thing you’ve tasted - that goes to Ghost’s attempts at cooking - but it certainly wasn’t pleasant. You wiped your mouth against the back of your hand, quickly realizing that it too was bloody. Red wasn’t really your color right now, otherwise you would have appreciated the look. You quickly checked over your supplies, knowing that you could make due with anything around the room or at the very least your hands, but feeling comfort in the weight of the metal contraption that delivered death at a much quicker rate. Hemorrhaging from either a knife or a gun was much more effective than your bare hands. Or teeth. 

It appears that your enemies didn’t appreciate your sentiment though, ambushing you only to take away such things from your grasp. There were two this time. They almost reminded you of Soap and Ghost, if those two were actively trying to kill you. Your boys only sometimes did that, and most of the time it was pitiful attempts. You were actually the one that got quite a few new rules implemented during training - but seriously, who stops in the middle of a fight to ask if something is legal? No-one, which is exactly why you simply did what was necessary to survive, to quote verbatim what you had said to Price as your excuse when Soap had ended up in the med bay. 

Be that as it may, these guards weren’t who you thought them akin to. Therefore, everything was on the table. Especially since they had made the grave error of giving your standard weapons a place on the backburner. Now, the only thought in your mind was kill. At all costs necessary. Your sharpened canines glinted in the dim lighting with a scarlet staining the pearly white as your mouth opened. It’s unfortunate for them that they didn’t have a muzzle on hand. 

Before the one in front of you had an opportunity to shoot you through any vital organ, you used your body weight to shove the one holding you to the ground - the bullet whizzing above you. A guttural growl escaped your throat as you turned your attention to escaping the grasp of the poor soul restraining your body. You grasp his upper arm, twisting yourself to use his body as a human shield. It would’ve made you gag if this was the first time you’ve done this. Regrettably, you have quite a bit of experience in this particular experience. 

The bullets pierced the soon to be corpse of his comrade, narrowly avoiding you except for one that grazed your side. You really were losing a lot of blood today. Making your way to safety was your biggest priority; however, that was proving difficult with leftover guards that were actually doing their job semi-well. You untucked yourself from under the weight of the stiff remains and threw yourself at the unlucky fellow who had just run out of ammo in his weapon. A simple click is all you heard as the gun escaped his grasp in favor of his bare hands. You were thrown into a chokehold yet again. These guys really did like their chokeholds. His hand gripped the knife slick with your own blood from your hands and ripped it out, leaving you to bleed to death. His mistake though was only using one hand to contain your rage filled body made of torn flesh and bones. 

You tore yourself from his grasp, with the worst luck in all of history happening with the knife getting knocked down the stairwell - sounding like a fork being dropped in the sink on its way down. You were in no condition to run or even jump after it, and the only other weapon was out of ammo, so it seemed you were yet again stuck using your bare hands. They trembled as you gathered yourself, preparing yourself for what you were being forced to do in order to escape this ordeal alive. You settled your weight into your haunches and launched yourself at the enemy, vision bloodshot and tinted red. An animalistic growl escaped yourself, sounding almost like a hyena’s maniacal laugh. Your lunge proved fruitful as your claws came into contact with his facial features, digging into his eyes to blind him. The texture of the soft tissue under your sharpened nails flexed and then ruptured. The front layers of his cornea gave way to the gooey gel similar to egg whites that filled the orbs. 

A visceral scream escaped the man below you, causing Price to finally check in over comms. At least, you think so, it was getting hard to hear with the ringing in your ears. You didn’t respond either way.

You knew that even blind, the man was still a liability. Or maybe he wasn’t, but to your addled brain firing neuron after neuron that drove you with the only thoughts occupying you being: survive and kill; well, the feral nature of yourself pushed you to make sure he was dead. You had your training to thank for that. You knew that the rest of his body was protected by the structure of his epidermis, much to your dissatisfaction. Your thoughts wandered back to the first enemy you encountered as you loomed over the blinded man. Your mind was made up.

In a split second decision, you descended your fangs into his throat, sinking your teeth into his trachea and hearing a sickening squelch of his bare flesh. The muscles gave way as you shook your head like a rabid dog, separating his tissue from their home within his body. You didn’t stop until you felt his carotid artery begin to hemorrhage. You shakily stand up, staring at the massacre you had left behind. Your jaw would definitely be sore the next day. There wasn’t a surface of you that wasn’t absolutely drenched in blood, and you couldn’t tell where yours began and theirs ended. The corpse beneath you had stopped screaming after the first puncture of your teeth - at least, you’re pretty sure. The haze surrounding your mind made thinking about it too hard. It almost fills you with a sense of regret at letting the monster you once were out of their muzzle yet again. The halfway decapitated body was left as you limped down the stairs and out a back door. 

You shambled out into the woods, faltering only twice to prevent yourself from tripping since you’re pretty sure you wouldn’t be able to get up again after that. The rush of blood in your head faded as the sounds around you finally cascaded back into reality. You swore you could feel the dripping of blood spurting out of all open wounds in time with your heart. The chaos finally sunk in, the screaming over comms for your response demanding your attention.

“I’m,” You break up your sentence with a cough. “I’m fine,” Your voice sounds crackly and hoarse. Not that you’re surprised.

“Where the fuck are you, you were supposed to be out of there five minutes ago,” Price yells out over the radio. 

“I don’t exactly know. Somewhere out in the woods?” You respond, your head pounding.

“Ghost, find them!” Price had apparently discerned that you were in no condition to be taking in your surroundings accurately enough to ascertain an accurate location. 

“Fuck, I think I see them. Hound!”

You think you hear a faint yelling of your name, although it doesn’t quite register to your unhinged and disoriented brain. All you could tell through the muddy fog of your mind was a person. Enemy. Kill. Survive. Escape. You felt their hands on you, your throat closing up in response as you preemptively expected to be strangled half to death. You let out a snarl, baring your teeth and coming into contact with what you think is a hand. Either way, it doesn’t matter to you and you bite down with the force of a wild animal. A yelp is heard, only cementing your actions in your mind. 

“Calm the fuck down Sergeant.”

A voice cuts through the haze like a hot knife through butter. You fall limp in the grasp; whether it’s because you recognize the voice or you simply are accepting your fate is up in the air. Nonetheless, your surroundings begin to load in, your eyes stopping their constant darting around and focusing on a singular face. Or, faces. Ghost, Soap, and Gaz. They had found you. You were safe. You notice Soap has a bleeding hand - your own handiwork without a doubt. Guilt floods you, your behavior similar to a puppy hearing the words ‘bad dog’ for the first time in their life. 

“Hey, hey, you’re okay. You did great, Hound,” Soap begins to say. 

“Come back to us, Love,” Gaz whispers, rubbing your cheek with his thumb. 

“Shit, fuck, I’m sorry,” You cry out, finally feeling the effects of your pure exhaustion. 

“I don’t blame you, Jesus, you’re gonna have a hell of a story to tell us when you get all patched up again, Hound,” Soap exclaims.

“How much of this blood is yours?” Ghost finally cuts in.

“Not a lot, just where the knife was and I might’ve gotten shot.”

“Might’ve?” Soap laughs.

“Mission, guys,” Price finally interrupts. “I’m glad you’re safe, Hound.”

The mission continues, you leaning on Soap since you’re pretty sure stumbling down the stairs strained one of your ankles. You spewed out numerous apologies for his hand, but he didn’t want to hear any of it. The go ahead for the air team with Laswell to level the building was given, and the exfil point was finally reached by your ground group. At that point, you were barely conscious, hearing echoes of pet names assuring you only a little longer and to stay with them. They plagued the darkness that overtook you and greeted you as you woke up to the blinding light of the medical room. 

“Welcome back to the world of living,” Soap says. “The doctors hadn’t seen anything like you before,” He laughs. 

“Do you want to explain why they found human tissue in your mouth?” Ghost asks, his tone inquisitive.

“Shit man, let them have a bit of a break before we interrogate them,” Gaz chuckles, offering you some water, much to your appreciation. 

You gulp down the water like it was the last time you would ever get the precious liquid, your body thanking you. You sheepishly hand the empty cup back to an amused Gaz. You clear your throat, not quite ready to delve into the specifics of what you had to do to survive, but knowing you had to. Being open in communication was a non-arguable point to being a part of the taskforce. 

“Most of the blood on me when you found me was probably belonging to the man I might’ve,” You pause, “ripped the throat out of?” You rush that last part out as quickly as you could, knowing that despite your efforts, they’re going to question you.

Both Soap and Gaz’s eyes widened almost comically, both quickly exclaiming different curse words. One being Scottish curses that you could barely make out from his accent. The other being aggressively British expletives spilling out of Gaz’s mouth. Ghost simply looked upon you with what seemed to be both admiration and affirmation. You had known he would be the most likely to not be surprised at your actions. He knew what it was like to have an untamed beast within you. 

“What in the bloody hell did you say?” Price was apparently looming in the doorway, keeping himself hidden until this moment.

You cough, and ask “Is now a good time to mention I also might’ve done the same to a man’s hand?”

Soap had a horrified look upon his face. “You’re saying I could’ve lost my precious hand?”

You had almost forgotten about Soap’s injury, and stared at him with a semblance of guilt flashing across your face. 

“Yeah, sorry about that,” You say quietly. 

“What happened to the good ole knife or bullet?” Soap asked, offering you his bandaged hand to hold in an offer of forgiveness and trust.

“They stole my shit, and my knife ended up kicked down a staircase after it was ripped out of me,” You pouted, the drug concoction of morphine and other such things loosening you up to talk. 

“You’re quite a rabid beast, ain’t you?” Price said, his tone betraying the fact that he was in fact quite proud of you. It wasn’t meant in a derogatory way and you knew that. You smiled in his direction, jokingly baring your teeth at your Captain. 

“Aye, I think you’re more than a baying hound at this point. Maybe Rottweiler would serve you better. That mouthful of teeth sure does remind me of my childhood,” Soap says, shivering at the thought of being the victim of your maw. 

“I hate to think of the final view those soldiers saw of you,” Gaz laughs. 

“I think Rottweiler suits you,” Ghost says. “Fearless yet loyal.”

The rest of the team nods in agreement, surrounding you with support and love. Something that still unsettles you to this day, but not in the same way facing down the barrel of a gun would. It’s a warm embrace in front of a fireplace that sends a jolt of something new down your spine. A fondness spreading like wildfire, adoration deep seated in your bones to those around you. Just like a dog, you were a fierce protector of your family, but with them? You were a tender beast that rolled over at their feet. 

You couldn’t think of anything better than that thought which warmed your heart. 

[shalomniscient]

ON TOP (part 2) | multifandom [NSFT][MDNI]

Topping my other fave fictional women but meanly…

cw. riding, orgasm denial, overstimulation, choking, cockring, spanking, ropes, degradation, strap-ons, edging, pet names (puppy), semi-public, sex-toys under clothing, clothed sex, squirting, shibari

notes. yeah uh there's no explanation for this one besides horknee

wc. will update later, checking wc on mobile is ass lmao

rahu

cw. rahu has a dick, riding, edging, choking, cockring, begging

"Look at you, poor puppy. Where did all your bravado go, hm?"

You coo down at Rahu as you sit on her lap, her cock buried to the hilt in your dripping cunt. A silicone band fits snugly at the base of her dick, the unassuming device now an implement of torture for the poor Sinner. She's painfully, achingly hard inside you but no matter how many times you've fucked yourself to completion on her, she hasn't been able to reach that high herself and she can feel her mind slipping at the denial.

"P-please," she whines out, the grip she has on your hips hard enough to leave imprints on your skin. "Please, 'm sorry, I need it so bad--"

You click your tongue, fingers wrapping around the pale column of Rahu's throat. Her eyes roll back into her head at the pressure and her hips buck, her cock pushing ever so slightly deeper into you. Your eyelids flutter at the sensation, but you draw yourself back from that knife's edge of pleasure. Not yet.

"Are you?" you ask, your tone almost bored. "You really made a mess out of me, you know. In the Archives, no less. Don't you think you deserve this punishment?"

"Please," Rahu wheezes out, her voice deliciously desperate. Tears prick at the edge of her silver eyes, glossy as they meet yours. Your resolve falters ever so slightly, your other hand rising to wipe the corner of her eyes.

"Poor thing," you murmur, "tell me what you want, puppy. Use your words, hm?"

"Need to cum," she gasps, head bowing and hair falling like a curtain around her eyes. "F-fuck, need to cum so badly, please, I'll be good, I'll do anything--"

Your eyes glint dangerously. "Anything?"

"Anything," Rahu confirms, the muscles in her neck straining as she holds herself back from thrusting up into you. You hum, as if in thought, then slip off her cock with a squelch. Rahu nearly sobs as you withdraw, but then you're gently tugging the cock ring off, and she nearly sobs again; though this time in relief. Immediately, globs of pre-cum rush out of her tip, thick pearls of white dripping down her shaft and making your mouth water.

"You wanna cum, puppy?" you ask, crawling back onto her lap and positioning her cock at your entrance. Rahu's pulse in her throat jumps under your hand as you slowly sink back down, taking all of her back into your warmth with a moan of pleasure. You meet her eyes as your hand squeezes ever so slightly, the lack of air making Rahu's pupils blow wide with desire.

Slowly, you start to bounce up and down her cock again, making sure to grind down every time you come down, pulling Rahu into the deepest parts of you. She groans and grunts with each sinful roll of your hips, deep and throaty, her eyes half-lidded but drawn to the way your pussy swallows her length over and over again. Soon enough, you hasten your movements, the sound of slapping skin echoing throughout the room as you ride her to completion. You feel her cock twitch inside you and you grin, tightening your grip on her throat.

“Then cum,” you order, and Rahu does, beautifully. Her silver eyes disappear into her skull, and her back arches, her hips jerking beneath you. She squirms and writhes as she cums deep inside you, painting your insides wight and warm. You don’t let up the movement of your hips, grinding down on her lap and smearing your mixed fluids on her thighs. You keep going even as Rahu gasps and whines, her body jerking fitfully from overstimulation.

“W-wait, ‘s too much—“

You pout at her, almost condescendingly patting her cheek. “Didn’t you say you wanted to cum, puppy?” Your pout morphs into a wicked grin, and you lean forward to whisper in her ear.

"Then you won't stop until I say so."

serval

cw. sex toys under clothing, vibrators, semi-public, squirting, clothed sex

“Miss Serval… are you alright?”

Serval coughs at Molly’s question, the already red flush up her neck turning redder. From a corner of the workshop, your lips curve upwards knowingly, as you look up from tuning your violin. Serval meets your eyes but then her gaze darts away, as she braces herself against the workshop counter.

“Y-yeah, I’m fine, Molly,” the guitarist assures, attempting a weak smile. “Just, uh— a little warm is all.”

“Ah, right… with the Eternal Frost receding, the temperature is picking up a little.”

Serval nods, and presumably tries to keep the conversation going—but doubles over all of a sudden, fingers scraping against the hardwood counter. You’ve never been more grateful for the constant whirr of machinery in the workshop; if only for muffling the sound of the vibrator you stuffed deep in Serval’s pretty cunt running at maximum right now.

“Miss Serval! Are you really feeling alright? Should I call Pela? Or your brother?” Molly asks, panic clear in her tone.

“No!” Serval chokes out, “no, absolutely not!”

Molly bites her lip in worry. “But—“

You decide to have mercy on the poor mechanic, and lower the vibrator’s speed. Serval visibly slumps in relief, and takes a moment to collect herself, before turning to her employee.

“I think I’m going to, uh.. rest up for the rest of the day. You can head home early—don’t worry, I’ll close up.”

Molly looks unconvinced, so you chime in as well. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure she gets a good rest and behaves.”

Serval shoots you a look for the double entendre, which you return with a smirk. Your fingers creep towards your pocket where the controller lies, and her expression immediately shifts into one of both hunger and anticipation. You let the promise of it hang in the air until Molly leaves the workshop, and flips the closed sign on the door.

“Babe—“ Serval begins, but you don’t let her finish. Instead, you set your violin down and crank the vibrator to max once more. Serval moans openly now, and your mouth waters at the sight of her thighs squeezing together as you walk around the back of the counter, and press your front against her back.

You slip a hand down her shorts and into her panties, grinning as the tips of your fingers graze the drenched fabric. It’s a wonder she hasn’t leaked into her shorts yet. The vibrator buzzes away in her cunt, and you press on the base, pushing it deeper. Serval whimpers, a beautiful, melodic sound, as the toy presses against that spongy spot inside her and her knees tremble.

“F-fuck, babe, I’m gonna—“

“Go on,” you encourage, scraping your teeth against the shell of her ear. “Cum.”

Serval practically wails, and a surge of wetness drips into her already ruined panties. Your eyes widen by a fraction when you realise she’s squirting, and the hunger in you roars to life like a raging crescendo. You sink your teeth into her shoulder as she rides out her orgasm, your fingers working on her neglected clit, the bundle of nerves stiff and engorged.

It takes her about a minute or three to come down, at which point you’ve already shut the vibrator off and withdrew your fingers from her underwear. Serval pants, bracing her complete weight against the counter as she catches her breath, but you’re far from done. Instead, you grip her hip and spin her around, so you’re both front to front, and sink to your knees.

“Babe, what..?” Serval asks, trailing off as she looks down at you, her breath hitching when you start tugging her shorts down.

“Wanna see you squirt again, baby,” you mutter, entranced by the mess between her legs as you peel her panties off her dripping pussy. Serval groans as you withdraw the vibrator, letting it clatter onto the floor. It’s followed by a squeak when you lean in close, and let your breath fan over her exposed sex.

You place your hands on her thighs and look up at her from between her legs, smirking.

“You can give me one more, can’t you?”

yelan

cw. spanking, ropes, degradation, strap-ons

"You're enjoying this, aren't you? Dirty little thing."

The words leave your lips in a disdainful sneer, as your hand comes down and collides with Yelan's plush ass for the fifth time in a row. Her body jerks forward at the impact, the pale skin turning a pretty shade of red under your treatment. Yelan only groans at it, fingers digging into the ropes binding her wrists together before she replies.

"Y-Yeah, but so are you," she bites back, painted lips curling into a smirk as she looks at you over her shoulder. "So a little pot and kettle, don't you think?"

You scowl at her, and answer her with another smack to her ass. "Still so fucking mouthy, hm?"

"Mhm, but you like me like this," she says breathily, and you can't help but allow yourself a smile at that. She isn't wrong at all; you do enjoy her like this. Very much so. But right now, she doesn't need to concern herself with that. Instead, you reach behind you on the bed and produce a blue strap-on, and you relish in the way her eyes widen by a fraction and her pretty lips part in anticipation.

"Don't worry," you hum as you fix the strap to your hips, aware of Yelan's eyes hyperfocused on the toy. Once it's secure, you grab her hips and pull them upwards, letting her brace her weight on her knees so she's ass up face down for you. She yelps at your manhandling, but you don't miss the way her cunt drips down her thighs. Her breath hitches as you position yourself over her, your front to her smooth, muscled back, the tip of your strap nudging at her slick entrance. "I'll fuck you until there's not a thought in that pretty little head of yours."

Yelan scoffs, rolling her eyes. “Right, how about you actually get on with it instead of—“

You interrupt her by surging forward and stuffing her full of your cock. Yelan’s snark turns into a scream of pleasure as your strap bullies its way into her tight cunt, and you bite your lip as you see the way her pussy spreads to accomodate the sheer girth of it. You don’t give her a moment to catch her breath, and immediately start railing her into the mattress. Nothing but garbled and slurred moans and cries of your name leave her lips and you grin.

The next day, none of the staff at the teahouse can look you or Yelan in the eye. And if they notice Yelan walking a little oddly or avoiding sitting down for the time being—well, they know better than to ask.

raven

cw. edging, degradation, shibari, strap-ons, cockwarming

“M-my love, please—“

Raven’s begging immediately devolves into simpering whines as you cease the pounding of your strap into her puffy, drooling cunt. Red, corded rope criss-crosses her lean frame, encircling her breasts and down her torso, where knots secure her calves and thighs together. Her arms are bound behind her back as she sits on your lap, thighs on either side of your own. She strains against the ropes along her body, chasing the stimulation, but with the way she’s bound, it’s pointless. Her head drops onto your shoulder as she sucks in a breath, pussy quivering around your cock as she creeps down from her almost-high.

Meanwhile, you nonchalantly continue your work, signing papers over her shoulder. The sound of her heavy breathing and the scratching of your pen are the only noises in the room, until Raven starts trying to sweet-talk you again.

“Darling,” she begins, pulling back to look in your eyes, “sweetheart, dearest, love of my life—move, please?”

You hum, as if considering. “My work isn’t finished yet.”

“It will still be there later,” Raven wheedles, leaning in to kiss at your neck. You run your hand up and down her back as she gently works her lips along your skin, pressing kisses against your pulse.

“Mm, aren’t you forgetting this is supposed to be your punishment?” you drawl, suddenly tugging at the ropes on her back and pulling her away from your neck. Raven lets out a breathy whine at the movement as it rubs the strap against the walls of her cunt.

“Aha… ah, s-surely an hour is enough?” she continues, this time more strained.

You click your tongue. “I don’t know if it is. Barging in and distracting me from my work is a heavy offense, you know.”

Raven’s face falls, her usual easy, picture-perfect smile wobbling. She looks about ready to cry, and you coo at her, the hand at her back coming up to pat her cheek and brush the ridge of her cheekbones.

“One more hour, little bird,” you say, “you can manage that, can’t you?”

You make good on your words exactly an hour later, of course—although you’re quite certain Raven will never be able to look at your desk in the same way ever again.

[frostdayz]

First meetings

Loki x reader (f! reader)

genre: Fluff

summary: Loki turns smitten when he first lays his eyes on you.

AN: it took me not kidding like 25 minutes to post this short thing. I had to edit and post a paragraph each minute. Anyway, I got frustrated and deleted the actual summary so enjoy that mess. BTWWWW if anyone has good Logan (Wolverine) fics/ one-shots send them my way, thanks

my stories never really describe the readers gender so unless stated otherwise all my stories are gn!!

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The grand hall of Asgard was a sight to behold—glittering gold, towering columns, and a ceiling so high it felt like the sky itself. I had only heard stories about this place, about the grandeur, the power, the gods who roamed these halls. But none of it compared to standing here, in the heart of it all, among legends.

Thor led me through the grand entrance, his booming laughter echoing in the vast space as he recounted tales of his many adventures. "And then," he chuckled, "I turned to Loki and said, 'You, brother, are as slippery as a snake!'—and he didn’t even deny it!"

I smiled politely, though my attention was elsewhere. There was a figure at the far end of the hall, standing alone by a window, his dark silhouette contrasting against the golden light streaming in. He had an air of mystery about him, his raven hair falling in soft waves to his shoulders, his sharp features etched with an intensity that made my breath catch. It was as if the world had paused momentarily, the air around him thrumming with an energy I couldn’t quite place.

"Ah, and here he is!" Thor called out, nudging me forward with a playful grin. "Loki, brother, come meet our guest!"

The figure turned slowly, and my heart skipped a beat as our eyes met. His gaze was piercing, emerald green, and filled with something unreadable. I could see the flicker of surprise in his expression, though he masked it quickly with a cool, collected demeanor. He stepped closer, his movements graceful and deliberate, and I found myself rooted to the spot, unable to tear my gaze away. "Lady Y/N," Thor continued, clearly enjoying himself, "this is my brother, Loki. Loki, this is Lady Y/N. She has come to Asgard as a guest of our realm."

Loki stopped in front of me, his eyes never leaving mine. There was a subtle shift in his expression—something softened, something curious. "Lady Y/N," he said, his voice smooth as silk. "It is… a pleasure."

I managed to nod, feeling the weight of his attention on me like a physical presence. "The pleasure is mine, Prince Loki." Thor, ever the observant one, let out a hearty laugh. "Well, well, would you look at that! I’ve never seen you so taken aback, brother. Normally, you’d have some witty remark ready, but it seems Lady Y/N has rendered you speechless!"

Loki shot his brother a look—half annoyance, half amusement—but I caught the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. "Do you always announce my thoughts so loudly, Thor?" he asked his tone light but laced with a subtle challenge. Thor clapped Loki on the shoulder with a grin. "Only when it’s so obvious! You should see the look on your face."

I felt a blush creeping up my neck, and I tried to focus on anything other than the fact that Loki’s gaze hadn’t wavered from me. It was as though he was studying me, trying to unravel some puzzle he couldn’t quite figure out. It was both unnerving and… thrilling. Loki tilted his head slightly as if considering something. "And what is it, Thor, that you think you see?" Thor chuckled, leaning in closer as if sharing a secret. "I see a brother who is completely smitten."

Loki raised an eyebrow, but there was no denial in his expression. Instead, he simply looked back at me, a slow, almost imperceptible smile curving his lips.

"Perhaps," he mused, "there are things even gods cannot anticipate."

My heart fluttered at his words, and for a moment, it felt like we were the only two people in the room. The world faded into the background, and all I could focus on was the way Loki’s eyes seemed to see right through me as if he knew me—understood me—on a level I hadn’t even realized was possible.

Thor’s laughter broke the spell, and I blinked, the world snapping back into focus. "Come now, Lady Y/N," Thor said, still grinning, "let us continue our tour. I’m sure Loki will join us once he’s done… collecting himself."

Loki’s gaze lingered on me for a moment longer before he stepped back with a slight nod. "Enjoy your tour, Lady Y/N. I’m sure we’ll meet again soon." As I followed Thor through the hall, I couldn’t help but glance back over my shoulder. Loki was still standing there, watching me with that same intense gaze. And in that moment, I knew—whatever this was, whatever had just passed between us—it wasn't the last time I'd see it.

[wildernessuntothemselves]

Jealousy, Jealousy... | Part 3

A/N: don't even have a summary for this. oc is in love with gyu and gyu is in love with another girl but both are virgin losers and gyu is a horndog who would let oc do what she wants to him just as long as he gets to cum.

Word count: 3.3k

Genre: Smut, angst

Warnings: fem!reader, semi-public sex, handjob, orgasm denial, cunnilingus, sub!beomgyu, dom!reader, sub!reader, dom!yeonjun.

A/N: so I have split the chapter into two to get it out faster and to give good time for events to sink in. sorry guys but also not very sorry because i like to torture you lol

"The girl you've been obsessed with for years has invited you to her party but instead of trying to talk to her, you’re hiding in the closet getting jerked off with her right outside. This is why she never gave you the time of day. You’re such a pervert, Beommie." 

"Yes, baby. Whatever you say." Beomgyu breathes heavily, leaning into your touch. He always becomes so pliant once you have his dick in your hand.

"You've got nothing in your brain but sex, huh?" You ask, jerking him off and true to your words, he already looks so dumbed out.

“No.” He answers your rhetorical question, legs buckling when you drag your palm repeatedly over the head of his cock, precum sticking to your skin.  

“Careful, Beommie. Don’t fall.” You laugh, your breath causing goosebumps to erupt along his neck, and he lays his head back to give you more space, silently asking you to kiss his neck, and you do, hearing him let out the prettiest half-moans half-pants. 

“Can I cum?” 

“Hmm.” You pretend to think about it for a few tortuous seconds, letting one of your hands trail under his shirt to play with his nipples. 

“Baby!” He sputters, his nipples are just so sensitive. 

“You can’t. You’ll make a mess and everyone will know what you did. They’ll all know you came all over yourself like a big pervert.” You choose your words specifically to rile him up, feeling his cock twitch in your hand. 

“I don’t care. Just wanna cum.” 

“But she’ll see, baby. She’s going to be disgusted.” 

“I don’t care. I don’t c-care. Just need it.” He’s delirious, too gone to even think about her. Just the way you like him. You know he’s hanging by a thread and any second now he’s actually going to cum, and so regrettably, you let go of him, causing him to yell out. 

“No!” He cries and you immediately cover his mouth with your hand to quiet him. “Hush, Beomgyu! Someone will hear you.” 

“Why?” He cries out when you remove your hand. 

“I told you. I don’t want you to make a mess. You can cum when we get home.” 

It’s a lie, of course. Truthfully, you just wanted to punish him for once again openly salivating over her in front of you. 

“Then let's go home.” 

“Not yet. I wanna get a few drinks first. I’ll get out of the closet first. You wait a bit and come after me. You should probably wait a bit anyway for that to go down.” You grin, glancing at his poor red cock. 

“You’re evil.” 

“I know.” You put his dick back in his pants and zip them up. “Don’t touch yourself.”

You get out of the closet with a huge smile on your face. This evening started horribly with you having to sit beside Beomgyu and watch him tear through Haeun’s clothes with his gaze, openly lusting after her as if he doesn’t care who sees. But once you had enough alcohol in you, you decided to do something about it and whisper in Beomgyu’s ear to follow you to one of the closets. Being the horndog he is, he followed right after, finally interrupting his leering session. 

Okay, maybe getting him to pay attention to you by giving him a handjob at a party wasn’t your proudest moment but you did get him to stop caring about her. Maybe in time you’ll get him to forget about her completely. Maybe he’ll even start looking at you differently, and he’ll realize you’re the one who truly loves him…Oh, who are you kidding? He has been obsessed with her for–

Lost in your thoughts, you smack right into someone, the drinks they were holding spilling all over the both of you. 

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry, I'm such a drunk idiot." You immediately go into apologizing, not wanting to antagonize the person further, but when you look up, instead of an angry frown greeting you, you see him with his head cocked to the side and a grin on his face. "That’s okay, doll."

“Yeonjun!” You gasp, slightly relieved knowing the person isn’t going to fight you, but still horrified at the damage you’ve done to his white shirt.  “Your shirt is all ruined!"

"It's alright. It’s your dress I’m worried about."

You look down at your dress which was equally soaked and now clinging to your body uncomfortably. “Ah, shit. Let's go wash off before the stains will set." 

You drunkenly drag him to the nearest bathroom. Once you’re inside, you turn to him. "Take off your shirt."

“Oh, is this finally happening?” He wiggles his eyebrows at you and you roll your eyes. “Off.”

"Bossy. I like it." He takes his shirt off and hands it to you, and you bashfully look away from his half-naked body, taking the shirt and running it under water while he grabs a towel and wets it, washing off his stomach, or more accurately–his abs.

Still, you can’t help but to sneak not so subtle glances at him, drawn to the sight, before blushing and looking away when he catches you.

“Like what you see, doll?” He teases, winking at you. 

“Shut up.” You rub his shirt with some soap to get the last of the stain out. 

“I can guarantee you, he doesn’t look like that.” His voice is suddenly so close to you, and you look up to see him right next to you, cornering you between his body and the sink. 

“Stop it.” You put a hand to his chest, which you immediately come to regret as the skin on skin contact makes your treacherous heart flutter. 

“Why? Why are you so hung up on him? The idiot doesn’t even realize how much you love him. He’s too preoccupied with her.” You try to look away at the painful mention of Haeun but Yeonjun gently turns your face back towards him. “Give me a chance to make you forget him.”

“Yeonjun…” 

“Can I?” He leans forward, his face inches from yours. 

Should you really be doing this? Beomgyu had told you to stay away from Yeonjun specifically. He would be very pissed off if he found out that you let him kiss you… but then again, why? Why can’t you kiss Yeonjun? It’s not like you and Beomgyu are together. You’re free to kiss whoever you want, dammit!

‘To hell with it.’ You think, surging forward to close the distance between you and Yeonjun. 

His lips are the softest lips you’ve ever felt. Granted, you only kissed two other boys before, Beomgyu being one of them, but still. He was so confident with it too, guiding you and coaxing you to open up to him, letting him taste you and you him. It was slow, purposeful–so different from Beomgyu’s kisses. 

No. You need to stop thinking about Beomgyu. That was the whole point. Forget Beomgyu. 

“Get off her.” Beomgyu shouts. 

Beomgyu? 

Yeonjun moves away from you, or more accurately is pushed off you. 

“Beomgyu, what are you doing here?” You gasp, horrified at having been caught by him as if you were cheating on him or something. It didn’t help that his reaction made it seem like you are. 

“I was looking for you. I thought I told you to stay away from him.” He hisses, clearly angry which just pisses you off. Whatever fleeting sense of guilt you felt for kissing Yeonjun quickly dissipates in the face of his inexplicable wrath.  

“You don’t get to tell me what to do.” You snap back. “And if I want to kiss Yeonjun, I will.” 

“He’s my friend!” He shrieks, as if that means something.

“So? That doesn’t mean I can’t like him.” 

Beomgyu reels at that. “You like him?” 

Both boys stare at you expectantly, waiting for your answer, and you stammer under their gaze. “M-maybe I do.” 

Beomgyu’s face hardens and he turns his back on you and walks out the door without another word. 

What? What did you say? 

“Oh no, did I just fuck up?” You fret, moving to run after him, but Yeonjun grabs your hand, stopping you. “No. You stood up for yourself. If he doesn’t want to be with you then he doesn’t get to tell you who you can be with.” 

“You’re right. He’s not my boyfriend.” You try to assert, but quickly lose your confidence. “And now he will never be. He just saw me kissing his friend! That’s like incest!”

Yeonjun bursts out laughing at that. “What? That’s ridiculous. Do you even hear yourself?” 

You want to be mad at him for trivializing how you feel. This is serious! You may have just lost your chance with Beomgyu! This is no laughing matter!

So then why are you laughing like he’s just cracked the funniest joke you’ve ever heard? “Oh my god, you’re right. What am I even thinking? This is stupid.” You huff out between cackles, “I’m so stupid.” 

Yeonjun stops laughing first, gathering you in his arms and waiting for you to calm down. “You’re not stupid. You’re in love.” 

“Yeah.” You confirm, bitterly. 

“And he’s an ungrateful idiot.” 

“Maybe.” You fiddle with your fingers. “But if there is a one percent chance I can be with him, I don’t want to ruin it by having him think I’m fucking his best friend.” 

Yeonjun sighs, stepping back. “Fine, go to him. Explain what happened to him. But for the record, I think you’re making a huge mistake.” 

“I know.” 

______________________________

You scour the party looking for Beomgyu, but you can’t find him anywhere. Did he leave already? Is he that mad? 

You lament your poor choices as you open up another door, stumbling across yet another couple engaged in less than savory activities with the woman spread out on the edge of the bed and the man with his face buried between her legs. 

“Whoops, sorry!” You yelp, knee-jerk reaction to slam the door shut suddenly halted when the man kneeling on the floor turns towards you and you see an all too familiar face. 

Beomgyu?! 

They both stare at you, Haeun with her dress pushed up and Beomgyu with his lips glistening with something you don’t want to think about. He makes eye contact with you before he turns around and presses his face back between her legs. 

That fucking slut. 

You slam the door shut and storm off with another target in mind. When you spot the colorful haired man, you drag him behind you to one of the empty bedrooms you saw earlier. 

"Hey, what’s going on--" You cut Yeonjun off with a kiss which he doesn’t resist much, making use of the unexpected opportunity. But when you separate, he takes the chance to ask, "What happened to Beomgyu?"

"Fuck him. I want you.” You kiss him again, suddenly nervous about what you’re going to ask now that you’re right in front of him. Still, you push through, murmuring against his lips, eyes sealed shut, "Want you to eat me out."

Unfortunately, Yeonjun doesn’t immediately give in as you had been praying he would, and he pulls back to ask you, "Are you sure?"

"Yes." You answer, still refusing to open your eyes. But the asshole won’t accept that. 

“Look at me, doll.” He demands, cupping your face in his hands. You take a deep breath before opening them, looking him dead in the eyes. “I want it.” 

"It just seems–"

"Do it, Yeonjun!" You snap then immediately regret it, feeling mortified at the possible rejection. God, you didn’t think this through, did you? Just because he wanted to kiss you, doesn’t mean he wants to eat you out in the middle of a party. He’s not Beomgyu. "Unless you don't want to."

Yeonjun lifts you up and drops you on the bed, the breath whooshing out of you as you make impact with the mattress. You don’t even get the chance to ask him what the hell he’s doing before he spreads your legs and gets between them. "It's my pleasure, doll."

He starts by licking over your panties, and you’re so glad he is easing you through it because even that makes you tingle. His tongue moves up and down your slit in slow, deliberate strokes, turning you on until you’re not sure if your panties are soaked because of your arousal or his saliva. And once it’s completely see-through, he hooks his finger under it, pulling it to the side. 

The first direct touch of his hot tongue against your sensitive pussy has you jolting, your hands shooting out to grab at the sheets. But Yeonjun pulls away for a second, grabbing your hands and putting them on his head.

"You can hold onto my hair, doll." He grins, looking devastatingly handsome, “Pull on it when I do something you like.” 

That’s a dangerous ask because you’re pulling his hair as soon as he puts his mouth on you again. Not that he minds, you can see his smirk as he stares up at you, tongue teasingly swirling around your swollen clit. 

“Don’t tease.” You whimper, holding onto his hair tightly. 

“Why not? You’ve teased me long enough, pretty girl.” He purrs, pressing soft kisses against your pussy while his thumb rubs maddeningly around your entrance. 

“Yeonjun…” You whine, taking your hands away and trying to close your legs, but he pins your legs back down before returning your hands to his hair. “Keep your hands on me. I like it.” 

“Pull my hair harder. I like it when you’re rough with me."

Beomgyu’s words ricochet inside your skull, tearing up your brain. No. Don’t think about him. He’s in another room with another woman, probably fucking her by now. Focus on the man who actually wants you. 

“Did I lose you?” Yeonjun’s voice cuts through your tortured monologue. 

You look at him, embarrassed at having been caught. 

“Then let me make you forget about him.” He vows, wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking on it, making your brain short-circuit. 

“That’s it, doll. Just focus on me.” He flicks his tongue from side to side, causing electricity to shoot up to your belly. 

“Oh god, Yeonjun!” You gasp, pulling at his hair, which just makes him do it with more fervor, alternating between rapid flicks and long languid licks up the entire length of your pussy. You’d be embarrassed by how quickly he builds up your high, if he didn’t look like he was enjoying it so much, moaning into your pussy and staring up at you as if he wants to eat you whole. 

“Feels good?” He smirks, fingers finally breaching your empty pussy. 

“Yes, yes!” You groan, head thrown back as he pumps his fingers inside you, his full lips latching onto your clit once more. 

The feeling of his fingers filling you up, fucking you open, and the unrelenting attack on your clit from his mouth has you teetering on the edge in no time. But then an unwelcome image pops into your brain–Beomgyu with his messy hair and his lips swollen and glistening with arousal–and suddenly it wasn’t Yeonjun between your legs and it wasn’t Haeun Beomgyu was eating out…

No, it was you on the bed and Beomgyu between your legs, looking up at you with his big, brown eyes that seemed to beg you to cum, and you do. You have to bite down on your tongue to stop from screaming his name as you shudder and whine, thighs clamping around Yeonjun’s head. 

Yeonjun. 

You jerk up, orgasm still not quite passed, and blink the haziness away. God, you’re disgusting. 

But Yeonjun has no idea what is going through your head. He has a big smile on his face, proud of himself for making you lose it so easily. 

“You liked that, doll?” He climbs up your body to kiss you, and you hesitantly reciprocate, not wanting him to sense that anything is wrong. But when he starts getting handsy again and you feel his hard cock pressing against you, you quickly push him away. 

"Wait. I can't–I'm sorry.” You stammer nervously. 

“Oh. Are you okay?” 

“Yeah, I just…” Whatever lie you were thinking of dies on your tongue when you make eye contact with him. You can’t lie to him. “I just need to go home."

“Of course.” He backs away, but you can see the disappointment on his face. “Is it… because of Beomgyu?” 

You don’t reply, but that is all the answer he needed.

___________________________________

Still, he is gentleman enough to take you home. 

“You didn’t have to do this, you know.” You tell him for the tenth time, feeling guilty after basically rejecting him. 

“I know. I wanted to.” He reassures you once again, no hint of annoyance in his voice. “I know Beomgyu usually takes you home, but since he’s… occupied, I didn’t want you to walk home alone.”

“Right.” You mumble, staring at the ground as that painful image of Beomgyu between Haeun’s legs flashes in your mind. “Well, thank you… and I’m sorry. I just don’t think I’m ready yet.” 

“Hey,” He walks towards you, propping your chin up with his finger. “You don’t have to apologize. You don’t owe me anything.” 

“I know. I just wish things were different. I wish I wasn’t so pathetically in love with him that it feels wrong to even be with someone else. Which is stupid, I know. Beomgyu and I aren’t–” Your phone rings for the 10th time since you left the party, cutting you off, and you glare at the name flashing on the screen. 

“Beomgyu again?” 

“Yes.” You roll your eyes, silencing it. 

“Answer it.”

You stare at him as if he grew a second head, and he rolls his eyes. “He’s probably worried about you. We left without saying a word to him.” 

Damn it. You guess he’s right. You didn’t even think of that. 

"Hello?" You press the phone to your ear but quickly move it away slightly at the immediate shouting coming from it. 

"Where the fuck are you?" 

"Home." You answer unenthusiastically, which just pisses Beomgyu off more. "You went home by yourself?"

"No, Yeonjun took me home." You elaborate nervously, scared of how he’s going to react, and boy, does he not disappoint. "Well this is just fucking great. I've been looking all over for you, freaked out of my mind that something happened to you and you're back home fucking my friend."

His words reignite your anger all over again. “I didn’t think you’d come up from between her legs long enough to notice.” 

“So you’re getting back at me by fucking him?”

“I didn’t–you know what, Beomgyu. I can't deal with this right now. I'm going to bed."

"I’m not done–" You hang up on him, too exhausted to think about what any of this means. 

"He's not happy, huh?"

"Nope." You sigh. What a fucking terrible night. 

"I don't get him. If he's jealous, why doesn't he just ask you out?"

"He's not jealous. He's just–” Just what? Why is he even acting that way? What is he so angry about? Because you’re ‘fucking’ his friend? So what? “I don't know. It's complicated. We've been messing around and I guess he got annoyed when he saw us kissing."

“Well, are you guys dating?” Yeonjun asks and you almost laugh. “No. Nothing like that. Just… just messing around.”

"Then he has no right to be annoyed." He states simply, and he’s right. He doesn’t, and you can’t make sense of why he is so all you manage is to lamely mumble, "Well, he's protective of me."

To which Yeonjun snorts, "You mean possessive."

Is he? Why would he be? Is it because he is not used to you having a boyfriend before? Not that Yeonjun is your boyfriend.   

"My brain hurts. I need to sleep." You groan, pulling at your hair in frustration before your hands fall to your sides with a slap. “I’m sorry, Yeonjun.” 

“Don’t be.” He reassures you, “I’ll be here when that idiot inevitably does something to completely push you away.”

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A/N: as always I always love to hear feedback even if it's just how much you'd like to punch gyu lmao. currently i don't know how many parts the remaining plot will be divided into so it could be 2 or 3 more similar sized chapters to this.

just for fun, i'll do a poll every chapter to see if people change their minds on who they want oc to end up with. but i've already decided on what to do so the votes are just for fun

Taglist: @wonwooz1@yaorzu-blog@allylikesdabee@rkivezzs@malieno @leviathanlee26 @yomomas-stuff @kurisaiyunobara @girlwholovekpop @zuzuhasablog @viaaasdiary @ho3forkpop @skzvcr