#swarm's nonsense
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crustaceousfaggot · 2 years ago
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Tragic news: MatPat video about your special interest
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milfygerard · 17 days ago
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my advice to ppl who feel angry or doomer-y when frank iero opens his big fat mouth without thinking to think back and consider: do you trust gerard ways artistic integrity and instincts for mcr? Bc thats why i pretty much never react to the band being quiet or weird announcements or whatever. Gerard takes the integrity of the art and performance of mcr very seriously, if they were in it for the money they never would have broken up mcr at all, they wouldn't've bothered with the swarm tour, and they wouldnt have made the TBP tour as unmarketable and confusing to the general public as they could get away with. To be blunt, if this was some artless sellout we would have had an album by now and it would have been good if not disappointing and derivative. Gerard is very obsessive over the integrity and honesty of the art they create sometimes to a detrimental and obsessive degree, and does not take something like My Chemical Romance lightly or cynically.
ALSO we wouldnt have gotten two high quality high concept clearly expensive highly enigmatic promotional videos with bizarre extremely hostile fascist imagery along with promotional imagery and posters that don't even have the bands acronym on them in a readable text. TBP tour is clearly going to not just be Something but is going to be Something Very Big.
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atypical-transfem · 7 months ago
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Kind of a rhetorical question
Can someone (preferably other intersex peeps) please explain how dyadics/perisex/endosex are so hellbent on not being reminded of the fact that they're dyadic/perisex/endosex?
Like this doesn't even bringing up the fact they're so ignorant about their privilege and how their community, at large, is so inaccessible for the intersex (and questioning) community.
Why do they have such a knee-jerk reaction when we remind them that they, by large, (supposedly) benefits from intersex suffering?
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unexpectedbrickattack · 2 years ago
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Pepstavo but its this
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thedeafprophet · 1 year ago
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the red honey is a very unfortunate area of the lore for me to be interested in because like. that kind of stuff with bees and swarms and whathave you is literaly my biggest phobia so im walking on a tightrope here lmfao
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I just caught up on Hobi's live. Interesting to know Hobi and JK don't seem to be in touch as much now. I really thought 3J were pretty close. Didn't you? Solo era is interesting so far. Looks like slowly we'll know who are close and aren't that close, based on who is keeping in touch with who.
I'm only going to say this once because I'm going to start deleting asks like this one. This is for you and all the countless anons who think the same way about various friendships in BTS. Stop using this as some gotcha moments. They are not. First of all, it's an incredibly boring topic for me to discuss and second of all, it's down right pathetic. "Solo era is interesting, it shows the real friendship". Try and have adult friendships that last more than a decade and perhaps you'll get wiser. It's like there's this pleasure in looking for clues and almost wanting to hear that they are not close anymore. I understand that everything is so boring right now and there's barely anything of substance to talk about, but maybe do something else?
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fallow-grove · 1 year ago
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🦇🦇🦇🦇🏏🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇
british
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former-leftist-jew · 7 days ago
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Yup. It really goes to show how Hamas' goal was never really about "helping Palestians," but hurting, degrading, and "humiliating" Jews/Isarelis.
b) For some reason, this whole situation reminds me of the scene where Scar summons Sarabi in the most publicly degrading way possible, forcing to walk through a crowd of snapping, snarling hyenas.
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And I always admired her ability to stay calm, composed, and dignified in a sea of hostility and disrespect. She doesn't give them the satisfaction of seeing her flinch, cower, or draw away as the cowards swarm her in a way they'd never do if it was one-on-one.
4 Israeli women after 477 days beeing hostages in hell, inches away from armed terrorists: on their feet, heads held high, holding hands, smiling, waving.
average internet hamasnik: this is humiliating for you. you are humiliated by this. somehow. please.
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dead-road-to-nowhere · 8 months ago
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My main blog keeps getting followed by a bunch of bots HELP
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bogleech · 1 month ago
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Facebook is of course positively swarming with AI bot accounts that exist just to generate engagement from people who don't know or care that it's AI nonsense, and I have to say the funniest thing they've done recently is figure out that fucked up food recipes generate even more response than politics.
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Why the reoccurring "bird shapes" in the ingredients, where was that even lifted from?
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a-la-campanella · 1 year ago
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Spent the week so far grinding away at Swarm Disaster, trying to complete Trailblaze Secrets and wrap up the Trail of Pathstrider. I should've tried to think smarter about it instead of running headfirst into stages I'm not stat ready for yet, so this one is all me. Best case scenario, I'll be done within a few more hours of AFK farming and ready to shelf this part of SU for Gold and Gears. Worst case, I'll be grinding between both after the new version update and losing my mind.
I should get around to finishing the backlog of companion missions too, but I'm taking my time with those. It's the whole "as long as I enjoy the journey, who cares how long it takes to get to the destination" thing. Bless Star Rail for not being annoying about quests like Genshin is, this is saving my life out here.
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crustaceousfaggot · 2 years ago
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poisonf0rest · 9 months ago
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Kiss Shot
♱⋅── zayne x fem!reader
♱⋅── about: Zayne has curated a perfectly polished reputation. He’s a renowned surgeon, the youngest of his graduating class, has a plethora of research papers in his name, and is well-liked and respected amongst his peers. And he would throw it all away to have you like this again, whining and desperate as he fucks you over a billiard table. It’s not fair, really, how easily you manage to get Zayne riled up. Especially when you call him sir.
♱⋅── word count: 8.2K
♱⋅── warnings: mdni, smut, light bondage, teasing, semi-public sex, praise kink, pwp, dom!zayne, sir kink, pool & billiards, oh he has pretty hands, exclusive tutorial card
♱⋅── original ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55931518
Your negroni is fifty percent water by now.
The flock of past classmates, professors, and adorning fans has been relentless, swarming the bar where you and Zayne currently sit— or perhaps more accurately, swarming where the distinguished Dr. Zayne sits. 
You sigh under your breath, fussing with the cocktail dress slit against your thigh before taking another sip of your drink, the melted ice dulling the burn of the gin. It has only been an hour since you arrived, and yet you can already feel your social battery reach its limits, tired of going through the same motions for every other person who bothers to acknowledge your presence: a smile, what’s your name, are you a surgeon as well, what’s your connection to Zayne, no we’re not together.
It’s not that you haven’t met fascinating individuals— your first round of drinks was shared with two sisters, old classmates of Zayne’s who were now Linkon’s top OB/GYN doctors and genuinely the sweetest women you’ve talked to today. 
But everyone has limits. And with the relentless swarm sucking up to Zayne, it hardly gives you a moment of peace, let alone an opportunity to talk with your date for the evening.
Thinking about the stipulations of your relationship and what this night even means for the two of you sends your mind reeling further, and you finish the rest of your negroni in a shot, wincing. 
As if sensing your frustration, the doctor in question looks up from his conversation with a classmate. Zayne gives a knowing, apologetic smile before returning to his conversation, the gesture leaving you with a fluttering in your chest.
Calling the bartender over, you place another drink on the tab before tuning in to the conversation next to you as you hear the echo of laughter. 
“No, no, I’ve been lucky enough to have seen it myself!” An older man laughs again, his drink nearly sloshing over the rim as he smacks Zayne’s shoulder. You snort at the way he stiffens. “Our Dr. Zayne isn’t just a professional at work, you should see him play billiards. Let me tell you, he’s amazing at both the operating table and the pool table”
A deep sigh. “You drank too much…” 
“Nonsense!” The man pats Zayne again before recounting a story from their residency days to the crowd of onlookers.
You yourself are rather engrossed too, more than happy to learn more about your elusive doctor, especially these hidden talents he seems set on keeping from you. Zayne, on the other hand, is far from impressed. Brows furrowed, he turns from where he sits against the bar counter to scan your face. 
Leaning in closer, you inhale sharply at the feel of his cool breath against your ear. “Do you want to go somewhere else?” 
His thoughtfulness would be sweet if it weren’t for the way Zayne had whispered it, lips brushing against your sensitive skin as you shudder at the slow, deep cadence of his voice. 
Noticing your hesitation, Zayne’s hand comes up to rest on your knee, thumb slipping under your dress’ slit. He cocks his head, waiting for your response, drawing soothing circles against your bare skin, which is having quite the opposite effect. 
Panicking, you shake your head. “I’m alright. Plus, I’d feel bad stealing you away from all your adoring fans so soon, Dr. Zayne.”
He scoffs under his breath, but you see the slight curl in the corner of his lips. Still, he has yet to let go of your thigh, and you decide to shift closer, turning in your seat so your knees brush against Zayne’s, his hand involuntarily sliding higher. 
His fingers are calloused and worn, a testament to his many years spent in the medical field, and his grip is firm against your thigh. It feels familiar, and the memories of his hands on you in many different places sends heat rushing to your cheeks.
The thought doesn't seem to have left his mind either, judging by the way his eyes dart down to your parted lips.
Clearing his throat, Zayne looks away. He is about to say something when you decide to interrupt instead.
“Besides,” you hum, taking a sip of wine. “If the rumors are to be believed, then I’m missing quite a show. Is our Dr. Zayne really that skilled at pool?”
“Ah.” Zayne retracts his hand, clearing his throat as he straightens up in his seat. ”You’re trying to gang up on me.”
You know him well enough to recognize the hint of embarrassment in the way he avoids your gaze. But before you can tease him further, another cheery voice interrupts.
“We meet again, sir!” A young man practically bounces over to the bar, caught between a bow and a handshake as he stumbles into both, flashing a gummy smile at Zayne. 
You raise a brow at his overwhelming enthusiasm, glancing at Zayne as you watch recognition flash across his face.
“Good evening. It’s Steven, yes? You don’t need to address me as “sir”.” Zayne nearly grimaces as he says the word, and you take a sip from your drink to hide your growing smile. 
“Yes! I’m honored you remembered.” Steven nods vigorously. “But anything less would be inappropriate. After all, you taught me so much with your hands-on instruction, I owe my knowledge and successful residency so far to you, sir.”
Still, Zayne shuts him down. “I was only doing what I should have done. Any credit beyond that is your own.” 
It’s almost like he’s allergic to praise. 
“Humble and smart,” Steven laughs, winking all-too-obviously at you. “Regardless, I just wanted to thank you for everything formally, sir. You two have a wonderful rest of your night!”
“Yes.” Zayne frowns, leaning ever so slightly closer to you. ”To you as well.”
Quickly feigning ignorance, you pretend to be absorbed in the powerpoint some professor is giving on the opposite side of the venue, immediately lost in a diagram of a heart valve. You’re about to take another sip of your drink when something pinches your ear. Yelping at the sting, you jump in your seat, whirling around to face the culprit.
Zayne scoffs. “I could see you eavesdropping a mile away. Did you find anything interesting?”
“Oh, aside from learning that you are extremely humble, smart, handsome, and rather adept at hands-on instruction, nothing much,” you lean against the counter, blinking up at Zayne through your lashes as you sing the last word, “Sir.”
You watch his jaw clench, a rigid movement that makes your heart skip. Zayne laughs, a harsh, sharp sound. He shakes his head before his hand grips your jaw, tugging you gently but firmly towards him. His eyes narrow, and your heart stutters.
“Clever girl. What is it you want this time?”
This time. As if Zayne could refuse you anything, as if the mere sight of you isn't enough to make him go mad.
But you're not the only one who knows how to play. And he rather likes watching just how far you’ll go.
Smiling innocently, you rest a hand on Zayne’s shoulder. The warmth of his skin seeps through the silky material of his suit. You can't help but slide your hand further up, tracing the curve of his neck with your thumb. “Well…” You lick your lips, tasting the waxy remnants of your lipstick as you fight to keep your voice even under Zayne’s piercing gaze. ”You never did any hands-on training with me, and everyone says what an honor it’s been to be taught by you, sir. I wonder what I’ll have to do to experience it finally.”
Zayne sighs, and for a moment, he appears disappointed.
“It seems like you truly want to learn about surgeries.” A scoff, and Zayne’s face seems to fall back to its stoic facade. But he pulls you closer, tilting your head so his lips graze your earlobe once more. “Who knew my little hunter was so skilled at acting?”
You gasp, placing a hand on your chest in faux surprise. “What accusations, doctor. Besides, I was thinking about something with a… less steep learning curve.”
Zayne hums thoughtfully, thumb venturing from your jaw as it brushes across your lips. Once. Twice. Three times before he stands up, hand finally dropping from your face as he grabs your wrist instead. 
“Then allow me to take our first lesson elsewhere.”
You don’t offer any sort of resistance as Zayne leads you through the crowd, opting to let go of your wrist and guide you away from prying eyes, hand instead lingering against the small of your back as he walks beside you. He opens the door for you, directing the two of you down one of the main venue halls, echoes of conversation muffled by the soft ding of an elevator. Zayne flashes his medical ID before clicking the top floor, the sensor buzzing green as it carries you up with the smooth flow of elevator jazz. 
Zayne’s hand has yet to leave your waist. His thumb goes back to tracing soft circles against the divots in your back as though from habit, nearly touching bare skin due to the sweeping backless design of your dress. You fight the urge to lean further into him, already fidgeting in your heels at the thought of his touch, slow and careful and calculated, elsewhere.
Your thoughts are interrupted by the chime of the elevator. 
Oh, god, snap out of it. You rush out of the elevator, hoping Zayne didn’t notice the furious heat you can feel rising from your cheeks to the tips of your ears.
Smoothing some loose hair back behind your ear, you close your eyes and focus on taking deep breaths, as if it’ll push all these obscene scenarios of Zayne’s large, perfect hands doing unspeakable things out of your mind. 
It works for a moment, expelling all these potential scenarios and instead reminding you of every time Zayne has taken action. Memories of him after hours at the clinic, during movie nights when neither of you paid attention to the TV, and even the drive here where he decided to—
“Does the sight of a billiard table scare you that much?”
The heat from earlier is back in full force. Your eyes snap open, and you are greeted with Zayne’s signature eyebrow raise, feigning concern despite his amused smile that only grows more prominent when he notices the flush creeping across your skin.
“Hardly.” You force a smile, turning your head as you refuse to let him gloat. “I’m just so ecstatic that I’ll finally receive hands-on training from the Dr. Zayne.”
A low hum, “Yes, at least until you feel well enough to go back and socialize.” 
He says this, yet you know Zayne is just as happy as you are to finally escape from the crowds below.
“Well,” you purr, “take care of me until then, sir.”
You giggle as he frowns at the title, waltzing past him to a corner pool table in the billiard hall. The floor is dedicated to different tabletop games, all lined up against numerous floor-to-ceiling windows aglow with a gorgeous view of Linkon City. The city lights bleed in since the entire room was rather dim, no doubt an artistic choice, adorned sensually with faux candlelight chandeliers and the low timber of jazz.
“Have you played before?”
“Once or twice– some call me a natural genius.” You brush imaginary hair from your shoulders as Zayne scoffs before handing you a cue stick. Lacing his hand into your own, you pull the stick and thus him closer. “Why? Are you going to be strict with me, sir?”
Seeing through your jab, Zayne responds without hesitation. “Strict teachers make outstanding students. Let’s start.”
You pout, about to walk to the other side of the pool table to observe his shot, when Zayne’s arm laces around your waist, holding you against him for a second longer. 
“And no more distractions.”
Not trusting your voice, you nod, watching as he bends to aim the cue, muscles beneath his sleeves flexing with each calculated movement. You hear the sound of a cue stick colliding with its target, but your attention is too focused on his fingers to process any of the actual movements.
Another sharp click breaks the silence. You watch as the cue ball collides with a red striped one, sending the former skittering off the sides while the other sinks into the pocket with a dull thud.
“You’re unfairly good at this.”
Zayne raises a brow, “Maybe it’s because a surgeon requires steady hands.” 
And the moment you glance down, any chance of salvation is lost.
You’re not a fool. You’ve noticed Zayne’s hands before, on more occasions than you’d care to admit. But it’s as he says and more. 
Lining up for another shot, you watch him stretch forward, forearms exposed from his deliciously rolled-up sleeves and discarded blazer, your eyes tracing every prominent vein down to his hands, spread wide against the table, tense as the stick rests against his pointer finger and thumb. Even in the dim lighting you can see pale silver scars littering his forearms, and you swear you’ve never seen something so beautiful, like traces of frost against marble. 
Again, it shouldn’t be a surprise that a surgeon must take good care of their hands, but it’s nearly unfair how gorgeous Zayne’s are. Not only that, but you remember how comforting his hands feel against your own, how they caressed your thigh earlier tonight, and just how attentive and precise they can be. 
“You’re not focusing on my lesson.”
Shit.
With a single strike, Zayne tries to sink another ball, but the angle is just off, and the striped ball hits the corner of the pocket, ricocheting against the wood with a dull thud. 
Zayne leans against the pool table, cue stick resting against his shoulder.
"Your turn."
Copying Zayne’s movements as best you can, you clumsily position your cue stick between your knuckles, aiming for what seemed to be a fairly easy shot. Only for the ball to ricochet far left as the white ball knocks into it. Even your cue stick wobbles after, as if shaking in laughter at your poor shot. 
Frowning, you look up to see Zayne’s disapproving gaze locked onto the pool table. 
“Is there not an easier way to do this? One more suitable for beginners?”
“There is.” Zayne leans in, his expression betraying nothing. “First, try adjusting your posture. You’ll see better results.”
Another sigh, and you halfheartedly drape yourself over the table again. “Like this? I’m not sure I fully understand, I think I need your help identifying my weak spots via more hands-on learning, sir.”
“Allow me to guide you, then.”
For a moment you think you’ll have to bait Zayne more, yet before you can figure out how to push the stubborn doctor any further, you feel the weight of his hands, heavy against your shoulder and hip. 
Zayne shifts forward, and you can feel the fabric of his suit vest graze the bare skin of your back, his hands unnaturally cool against the dips in your waist as he nudges your back into an arch. You comply, Zayne’s body nearly folding atop yours as his chest brushes your back. 
He takes the cue stick from your hand.
“You’re too tense,” Zayne pats your back two times. Your waist immediately bends, and you hear him laugh under his breath. “And now you’re too relaxed.”
With his hands still pressed against your waist, Zayne repositions himself and thus you as well, and you can feel the chill of each exhale against the crook of your neck.
He guides your aim, lining it up to the cue ball. The tip brushes ever so gently against the felt surface as it pushes, slowly and deliberately, practicing the gentle back-and-forth motion as you struggle to keep pace. 
“Drop your left arm. Allow it to bend naturally.” He taps your elbow and waist. “Your head, dominant arm, and the cue stick should all form a straight line.”
You begin to shuffle according to Zayne’s instructions, hinging your hips backward before you realize what a wonderfully compromising position he’s placed you in. As discreetly as possible, you allow your right leg to step backward, movement forcing you further against Zayne as you press the curve of your ass into his hips. Immediately, you’re rewarded with a sharp inhale next to your ear. 
But instead of pulling away or reprimanding you Zayne merely continues with the lesson, almost frustratingly unaffected if it wasn’t for the fact that you could feel his reaction grow between your thighs. 
Still, he is nothing if not a professional as he whispers against your jaw, "Behave.”
"I am," you reply, and one of Zayne’s hands comes up to guide your cue stick. “...It just hurts a little.”
You don’t have to see his face to know that Zayne is giving you a smug smile. 
“That means it’s correct.”
You take a deep breath. You practice the same back-and-forth motions, thrusting the stick forward on the third, watching as your cue stick strikes the white ball, sending a solid orange one rolling.
Another click and a thud, and you successfully land a pocket.
Just when you feel like you’re finally getting the hang of it, you make the fatal mistake of looking down to where Zayne's fingers guide yours against the cue stick, and your brain turns to scramble once more. His thumb brushes over your knuckles, a soft, fleeting sensation.
And you miss.
Zayne is quiet for a long moment, tilting his head, letting the warmth of his cheek press against your neck. “Snap out of it. Are you even paying attention?”
Bastard. He knows exactly what he’s doing. 
“Of course,” you retort, skin feeling uncomfortably hot even when Zayne finally steps back from you, your body searing the memory of his touch into every nerve. “I’ll score the next one myself.”
He hums and cocks an eyebrow as if telling you to go on, prove him wrong. 
“Remember, move the cue stick to gauge the shot two or three times, then stop at the position closest to the ball.”
You do, gauging the weight of the cue stick, bending down over the table so your chest nearly brushes with the felt, narrowing in on the solid green ball. 
“Stop and pull back the cue stick in three, two, one.” 
On Zayne’s command, you strike, a satisfying click followed by the thump of the ball falling into the corner pocket. You scored. All on your own.
“It went in!” You jolt up, spinning as you laugh. 
“So it did. Seems like your pool skills are less about precision and more… passion.” Zayne’s lips twitch into a smile, and you’re not foolish enough to ignore his double meaning. “Granted, you might need a little more than passion to come back and win this round.”
You scoff, attempting to change the subject without drawing attention to how red your face has gotten. “Well then, perhaps if you’re not too committed to this doctor thing there’s still a chance for you in the professional billiard space.”
“No, thank you. Now, think you can make another shot by yourself?”
“Wait a moment. When a student does well, shouldn’t they get a reward?”
“Very well,” Zayne relents, tone even despite the searing gaze he practically strips down your body. “What do you want?”
“There are a few balls blocking my next shot. Help me?”
A beat, and he blinks at you incredulously. “That is all?”
“What’s wrong, Dr. Zayne? Scared that if you give me too much help, I’ll steal this victory from you?”
“Provocation doesn’t work on me.”
“Then come here.”
God, you don’t think you’ll ever get used to how pliant he is for you, obeying your command without so much as a moment of hesitation. His larger frame now towers above you, close enough that you have to crane your neck to maintain eye contact. And you can’t help but tease him a bit more. It’s not your fault his obedience gives you a rush.
“Closer,” you whisper, teasing your fingers against his vest buttons. “Or else I can’t reach it.” 
Still, Zayne complies. Although this time his brows furrow, shuffling closer so his knee slips between yours and your chest presses against his. “What exactly are you…”
You yank his tie, pushing him down atop the felt tabletop before he can finish his sentence. 
There’s a dull thud, Zayne’s vest ruffled as you pin him to the table. He still looks frustratingly composed, not a hair out of place, but you feel his chest rise and fall uncharacteristically fast under your palm.
Smiling in victory, your other hand brings up your cue stick, making a show of tapping it on his broad shoulders. “Ah, look, the ball is so far away. I think I’ll need a cue rest.”
“Using cue rests would be overkill,” Zayne retorts, propping himself onto his elbows as you pout. You’ve been teasing him all night; surely just one more push, and he’ll finally give in? 
Before he can escape from your hold, you lift the cue stick off his shoulder, letting the tip slip under his tie. Zayne watches with a tight frown as you tug his tie loose. “And this is inappropriate.”
“But are you not enjoying it too?” Your leg slides out from the slit in your dress, allowing you to straddle Zayne’s thigh as your arms cage him further against the pool table. “Sir?”
His brows furrow, almost surprised at your brazenness before he looks down with a huff, and you see the smirk he’s fighting to keep at bay. “I shouldn’t have taught you so much.”
Getting revenge for before, it’s your turn to grip his jaw, brushing kisses against his beautifully hooked nose and down his jaw, leaving smears of cherry red in your wake as you purposefully neglect his waiting lips. “What can I say? I have a very attentive teacher.” 
Zayne is about to say something sarcastic back, no doubt, so you roll your hips forward, cutting off his words as you’re rewarded with a groan instead. The angle allows you to grind atop the rough seams in his trousers, nearly catching against his zipper and the heavy bulge you can already feel straining underneath. 
His hand shoots out, gripping your thigh as you gasp. There’s a warning look in his eyes, but he makes no move to stop you.
Encouraged, you repeat the motion, rocking forward against him as you give an exaggerated moan. Zayne quickly cuts it off with his other hand, thumb pressing against your bottom lip as he muffles your noises. You open your lips further, allowing the digit to slide against your lipstick and push against your tongue. 
Zayne tsks, shaking his head.
You gently nip at his finger before beginning to suck the offending digit, flicking your tongue against the rough pad of his thumb. You watch his eyes narrow, the grip on your waist tightening. Zayne is holding himself back. Again. 
You release his thumb with a pop. "Don't worry, sir, no one will hear." As if to prove your point, you stop grinding, instead bringing your hand up to cup at the bulge straining against his pants. “Besides, you’re too pretty like this. I'm the only one who gets to hear all the sounds you make.”
You smile so sweetly despite the way you torture him with every rough drag of your palm against his clothed cock. But it’s only when your smile breaks into something more genuine that Zayne feels himself flush, gazing up at you adoringly before he tries to play it off with a chuckle and a pinch at your hips.
"The things you say..." His expression changes to something unreadable, stone-cold and conflicted. The chances of losing you again are greater than he once thought. He doesn't deserve this, and he doesn't deserve you. Zayne is reminded of that every time he dares get too close.
But he can't help it. He’d eternally become a fool, a martyr, just for you.
Zayne’s jaw clenches, and a stuttered moan slips through his teeth as your hand squeezes his clothed cock. "Do you think I'm that weak to flattery?"
"No. I just think you deserve it sometimes." You smirk. "Plus, I'm not flattering you, I'm complimenting."
"And what's the difference?"
"The intent," you whisper, grinding your hips forward again.
This time, you catch him by surprise, and Zayne moans, the sound low and rough and so fucking addicting. Zayne grunts, head tilting back as he shuts his eyes, lips parting ever so slightly as more soft sighs and moans slip out, spurring you on.
You lean in, breath warm against his ear as you whisper, "What's wrong, sir? I thought you had a lesson to teach me."
Zayne’s grip tightens, and he yanks you down so your palms skid across the smooth felt of the pool table you’ve pinned him against, pulling your hips flush against his as his palm cups your ass.
“If you actually want to learn, there's another way I can teach you…” Zayne leans up on his forearms until his lips brush with yours, and right as his eyes begin to flutter closed, you shove him backward. Denying his kiss. Again.
“Sir, this seems to be highly unprofessional.”
And Zayne finally snaps. 
“First you use your teacher as a cue rest, then you try to talk about professionalism?” He lets out a curt laugh, and you can practically feel his patience wearing thin. It’s terrifying, and your stomach flutters in anticipation.
“ Unprofessional ,” he spits, and your thighs clench at the growl undercutting his words. “Unprofessional, like that time you were screaming my name in the back of my car while we were still at the hospital parking lot? Or unprofessional, like that time you interrupted me during work hours, begging me to eat your cunt out in my office? Or perhaps it’s like when you decided to turn this lesson into an opportunity to tease me since you’re clearly so desperate?”
You can practically feel yourself drip at Zayne’s blunt words, each one harsh and true— your relationship with him had passed morally ethical the moment you pulled him in to kiss you instead of pushing him away months ago.
Using this moment of weakness, Zayne lifts you up, flipping the two of you around so you’re the one pinned against the pool table as he reaches for his abandoned cue stick. And he finally- finally - claims your lips with his. 
Zayne always kisses like he operates, slow and methodical, as if he could spend hours learning every inch of your body, and it never fails to leave you breathless. But today, the urgency in the way he licks into your mouth is palpable, and it has you whining and clutching his suit, legs wrapping around his waist as you try to bring him closer, the oak rim of the table forcing your back into a deeper arch as you whine. 
A firm hand against your hip stops your movement, pinning you down. You feel so small, caged in between his much longer legs, his superior height much too obvious. The difference in size is almost laughable as he bends down to lick deeper into your mouth. You gasp against Zayne’s lips as his other hand slides to the back of your neck, thumb rubbing circles against the column of your throat and your fluttering heartbeat underneath.
You whimper into his mouth, futilely attempting to push him away even though your hips grind insistently against his thigh. “Zayne,” his name tapers off into a moan as he kisses you again, addicted. “We can’t–” another kiss. “Anyone could walk in.” Another.
When he does give you space to breathe, a thin string of saliva connects his bottom lip to yours. He pants heavily, lips shaded a hue of cherry red from your lipstick and teeth as the corner of his mouth tugs into a frown. “Hm, I suppose that’s true. But that didn’t stop you before, did it? So I see no reason why it should stop me now.”
And you realize your fate has long since been sealed.  
Zayne returns to peppering your neck with kisses, teeth nipping the soft skin at your collarbone, and you yelp as he leaves a particularly harsh bite. Your hands come up to fist into his hair, and Zayne groans against your chest.
"Do not think I have forgotten our lesson," He whispers.
"Who, me?" You bat your eyelashes. "I would never. Sir."
His gaze darkens. "Then watch closely, I’m only doing this once.” 
Leaning over you, Zayne positions the cue stick against your shoulder, not unlike you did to him before. But unlike you, he forces your hips up against his thigh, watching your eyes roll back from the delicious friction of his expensive trousers. “There are two striped balls left. As punishment for your attitude during my lesson, I want you to come on my thigh before I pocket both of them.”
Dumbstruck, you can only stare up at him, stammering at his demand as you feel your pussy flutter. “I- I don’t think…”
Zayne scoffs, silencing you by roughly thumbing at your lips again. “Don’t act so shocked. You’ve been humping me like a desperate brat all evening, so go on and come like one. Come for me.”
His words are demeaning, each one cold and seemingly emotionless as he stares down at you. But you can see the truth in his eyes as he watches your every reaction, their gentle green filled with an adoration so tender it terrifies you. You feel the truth in his touch, only moving with your consent, already having memorized your body to learn the way you tick and acting upon your every whim, only pushing you just as far as you wish to be. 
Zayne has never told you he loves you, but he has shown you that he does in a thousand countless ways. 
And he’ll prove it to you in a thousand more. 
”Unless, you want more punishment?” Zayne twists his head towards you with his next statement, and he feels the way it makes you flinch— it makes him throb at the same time. You shake your head. 
You can barely form sentences when he’s deliberately tensing the muscles in his thigh, each movement in time with every needy twitch of your hips like it’s a means to emphasize his point. 
“Use. Your. Words.”
“No.”
His grip tightens, fingers tensing against your neck, and you stammer back out the correction. “No, sir.”
“Good girl.”
Your heart flutters at the praise, a quiet whimper escaping you as you buck against him. Your lips are pouty from being bitten between your teeth, and you still hear muffled sobs and moans slip past your lips as you begin chasing the friction against his thigh, the upward angle punishing your clit. 
Despite how much Zayne likes to front that he’s in complete control, something tells you he’s having a harder time holding back than he’ll ever admit. You think maybe the bulge in his slacks and his low moans against your ear is proof enough of that.
Zayne’s not sure which is more distracting, the sight of your pretty pussy grinding against him, only just covered by the thin silk of your dress, or the sounds falling from your mouth. The room is filled with the wet sounds of your cunt, your whimpers, and Zayne's own groans.
Pressing his forehead against yours, Zayne leans in for another kiss, the tips of your noses barely touching. But the proximity makes you slow, and he clicks his tongue, reaching above you to line up his cue stick for the next shot. But he pauses, instead fully tugging off the tie you had loosed.
"Since you were so insistent on taking my tie off earlier, here. Keep it for me." Zayne grabs both your wrists with one hand, looping his tie tightly against your skin, skillfully making a knot without ever releasing your wrists. 
“Maybe this will help you behave properly,” Zayne whispers, voice low as he mouths your pulse point, a fresh surge of arousal rushing to your core as you feel his length pressing further into you. 
With a broken whimper, you hook an ankle around Zayne’s back as you begin to grind harder against his thigh, moaning at the new angle. It hardly compared to the feeling of his fingers or cock fucking into you, but you barely cared, arousal and lust spurred on by Zayne’s voice. 
You soon fall into a rhythm, painfully slow, the mere friction sending jolts of heat through you until you’re certain Zayne’s trousers must be stained. You nearly beg for something to hold onto, hands writhing helplessly against his tie as your sobs are muffled into your red-bitten lips.
But just as soon as the pleasure builds, you feel it plateau, hips beginning to stutter as the dull friction becomes too little, the coiling heat inside you desperate to be properly filled up by something, anything. 
Zayne, on the other hand, is faring no better. 
He’s thoroughly distracted with the pretty little thing desperately fucking herself against his thigh, caging you down to the table as his hands clench against the cue stick, nearly enough to make it snap. 
You continue to push yourself in desperation to fulfill Zayne’s order for you to come, his continuous praises mingling with the lewd squelch of your cunt, and your eyes roll back with a cry. Zayne’s voice is intoxicating, his steady tone rough with lust sending tremors down your spine, infecting you like an aphrodisiac. You were building further and further, mounting pressure in your core dizzying, desperation for release seeping through you, mind lust-drunk as you willed yourself to fall off the peak.
But the familiar sound of the billiard balls clicks somewhere above you, followed by two distinct thuds. 
A hum, and Zayne pries himself away as you whine at the loss, cold air rushing in. 
You failed. 
“How disappointing.” Zayne scolds as if he wasn’t the one who nearly came from your grinding instead. ”But you know what happens to students who fail to follow clear instructions, don’t you?”
Standing back, Zayne discards the cue stick entirely as one hand readjusts his trousers, and you whimper at the sight of him cupping his bulge, stroking and coaxing it against his thigh just so he can stand straight. 
“Turn around and lift your dress.”
You obey, propping yourself up on shaking arms before you flip around so the rough edge of the billiard table now presses against your stomach, the felt hot beneath your bound wrists. 
Zayne hums in approval, almost apathetically observing the way you squirm before he nods at you to continue. Lowering your eyes from his, you allow your leg to slip out from the slit in your dress, spreading your legs back and to the side as the silk falls off the curve of your ass, Zayne’s piercing gaze following every movement. 
“Didn’t think a game of pool would turn you on this much,” he muses, leaning against the rim of the table as he crosses his arms.
Unable to meet his stare any longer, your head falls between your still tied-up hands, every inch of your body burning in shame and lust as Zayne continues to wordlessly observe you. You swear you’ll burn up with the way he fucks you with his eyes.
 Still, Zayne doesn’t move. 
You nearly scream against the table, eyes scrunched as you snap. “Fuck! Zayne, I swear to god, if you don’t finally fuck me I’ll do it myself or find someone else who will.”
The words barely leave your mouth when a hand fists into your hair, pulling you backward until you arch back, and you gasp, mouth falling open at the sensation. Zayne's breath is cold against the shell of your ear, the growl undercutting his words sending tremors down your spine.
"Needy little brat," his fingers curl into your hair, pulling until your jaw goes slack. Zayne's other hand finds its way back to your underwear, the material so damp that it almost feels sticky beneath his touch, and you moan at the sensation, unable to formulate a retort as your eyes flutter closed. “I think you’re forgetting this is meant to be your punishment.”
He snaps the band of your panties, and you choke, knees wobbling.
"Remember to count, or we start over.”
Placing the flat of his palm in the space between your shoulder blades, Zayne pushes you down against the billiard table, the side of your face pressed against the felt.
You hear the sharp crack of his hand meeting your ass before you feel it, the burn returning with a vengeance as you scream into the table. The sting of his palm leaves a searing heat across the curve of your ass, and you bite down on the tie binding your hands to muffle the cries that escape you.
Then you remember his order, lips quivering as you say, "One."
Another smack. This time harder. The strike is so precise it nearly sends you toppling over, the sting and ache following pushing you further against the wood. You let out a sob, eyes beginning to water as you clench around nothing, the throbbing of your cunt only worsened by Zayne's firm grip on the base of your neck.
"Two."
The third strike comes down even harder than the last, the resounding echo of his slap followed by a strangled scream from you, the heat and pain making your knees give out, forcing you to rest fully atop the pool table. “Three.”
You feel tears running down your face, undoubtedly ruining your makeup. But before you can process the fourth smack, you feel the familiar sting against your ass and the paradoxically gentle rub of Zayne's hand against the aching spot, soothing the pain as you count.
 "F-Four." You shutter as you feel sheer cold bloom against your skin, his Evol numbing your ass as you whimper from the pleasure-pain.
Zayne’s thumb dips past the seam of your panties, gathering the slick that has been dripping out of you for the entire night. You feel the heat of his stare on you and the weight of his hand heavy on the small of your back, his other hand still gripping your neck with his thumb tracing soft circles against your pulse.
"So wet. Is this what you were hoping for, hm? Testing me until I finally snapped and ruined you?”
You don't dare look him in the eye. "Please, sir. I can't—"
"Can't what? Take anymore? Can't take any more punishment like the disobedient brat you are?" Zayne's voice is low, and you shiver at his words, unable to respond as the tears continue to flow, the mixture of pain and arousal leaving your vision blurred and cloudy. He spanks you again, this time hard enough to leave a mark, and you keen, legs spreading even wider in desperation.
"I can't— ah shit — please. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, sir, please, just fuck me already.” you plead, voice trembling as you beg, desperate to be filled by anything other than the emptiness. 
“Language.” Zayne reprimands, and the sting of his strike follows shortly after. “And you forgot to count.”
“Five! It’s f-five.” Your knees buckle with a sob, and Zayne has to hold your waist so you don't slide onto the floor, his touch paradoxically gentle compared to everything else he’s done.
“Shh, you’re far too noisy. It’s almost as though you want someone walking in to find us like this.”
Your dress is only noticeably bunched up from the back and Zayne is still fully clothed. Anyone walking by the billiard hall would just see a couple talking by the tables, but if they were to enter the room it would hardly take a brain surgeon to figure out what was happening. The realization has your walls clench around nothing.
Zayne hoists your wrists up, forcing you into a deeper arch before untying your restraints. You then watch him fist the purple silk into a ball before pushing it into your mouth, gagging you with it. “Don’t worry, this will help.”
It doesn't.
You moan against his tie, saliva pooling against the silky fabric as Zayne pushes the soaked garment deeper into your throat, his chest pressed against your bare back. You look up at him through watery eyes, sniffling, the tingling sensation of being punished in such a way overwhelming you completely. Zayne uses this opportunity to soothe you like he always does— never failing to find the perfect balance between rough and gentle.
"It's alright, I know, my little darling can’t make up her mind. I’ll help you, I’ll show you what you want." Zayne soothes, stroking your cheek with his thumb, his gaze gentle despite his steady and strict voice. Then, he leans down, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he whispers, “If anything hurts or becomes too much, tap the table twice." 
You wouldn’t dare, not after finally getting what you wanted.
Zayne slips his hands under the backs of your thighs, easily lifting your weight against his chest as you whimper, the toes of your heels just barely grazing the tiled floor. The position is beyond embarrassing, ass up, face down, completely exposed and at his mercy.
He withdraws one hand, and you cry out, a garbled mess of pleas. The absence of his touch is torturous, the throbbing of your pussy and the soreness of your ass a painful reminder of the punishment you received.
The tent in his pants was tantalizingly obvious, even more pronounced once he pushed his pants down, taking out his length. He spits on his fingers, the slick sounds of him stroking himself making you whine in anticipation. It was oozing with precum, head red and flushed as he jerks himself off with sharp movements between your thighs. You grind your hips back, trying to tempt him, but all Zayne does is coo at your pitiful attempts.
"Look at you, so desperate. All that childish stubbornness just because you want my cock." He lines himself up, the head of his cock catching against your entrance as you shiver. The stretch burns, and you groan, eyes screwing shut at the feeling. "My beautiful, filthy girl."
Zayne whispers, curling an arm between your sweat-slickened bodies. You think he means to finally alleviate the needy throbbing against your clit, but instead his hand presses firmly against your lower stomach as he continues to fuck into you, torturously slow, allowing the blunt head of his cock to bully its way deeper and deeper still. 
The sensation is overwhelming, the stretch of Zayne's cock combined with the sting of his earlier punishment leaves you a mess, fluttering around him as he finally bottoms out.
He lets out a long moan, a low rumble that makes the hair on the back of your neck stand on end. You're so full, the head of his cock pressing insistently against the bundle of nerves inside you.
Some distant part of you is mortified of every lewd squelch and moan that echos over the jazz in the public hall, but feeling Zayne gently cup your ass while the other brutally pins you down, hearing him come apart against the back of your neck, knowing that your stoic lover was pushed to such extremes has you keening.
You want to feel every inch of him, so you clench down, and Zayne bites the back of your neck in retaliation, his hips stuttering.
"You’re perfect." Zayne praises, and his breathless voice sends shivers down your spine. "So good for me, taking me so well."
Zayne finally starts moving, letting the tip of his cock pull back until the head catches on the rim of your cunt, trying desperately to keep him inside, until he thrusts back into you in a single harsh motion, watching you fall apart just as he knew you would. 
Your scream muffles into the gag, and Zayne reaches down to push the tie deeper into your mouth, the knot catching on the back of your tongue as he sets a steady pace. 
The hand against your lower stomach shifts, still pressing hard enough so Zayne can feel his cock throb through you, and yet now positioned perfectly to thumb against your clit too. He needs to make you come, to feel it around him. 
Zayne knows your body better than his own, knows exactly what angle he needs to hit, knows exactly where to touch to send your hips jerking back, and knows exactly where to tease to have you clenching down and sobbing into his tie.
It doesn't take long until you're coming, his fingers circling the bundle of nerves until you're screaming, thighs shaking, and he has to hold them open as you fall apart around him, cunt gushing as you squirt over his suit and trousers.
Your orgasm has your walls fluttering, clenching around his cock as it nearly begs for him to be buried deeper inside, and Zayne grunts, a broken moan ripped from his throat as his grip on your thigh tightens.
The pace of his thrusts grows sloppier, and you can tell he's close, the wet squelch of his cock inside your cunt driving you mad as his rhythm becomes inconsistent. You can feel his breath fan against your neck, labored and shaky, with the way he chases his high.
Your cunt aches with how full you feel, overstimulated and sensitive, but you push your hips back anyway, meeting Zayne halfway as you both chase the release that's been building up all night.
With one final thrust, Zayne finally comes inside you, a choked gasp followed by a low moan as his hips stutter, almost fucking his cum back into you as a sloppy mixture of your release drip down his cock and your thighs. 
Your eyes roll back into your skull, and your second orgasm takes you by surprise, your body convulsing at the overstimulation and the warm soothing sensation of being filled to the brim. 
"Fuck." Zayne whispers, his hands holding your hips as his thumbs trace circles against the dimples at the small of your back. The chill and comfort of his hands is almost enough to distract you from the ache, and you groan, legs finally giving out beneath you as you fall forward onto the pool table, the hard surface unforgiving as the wood rubs against your bruised knees.
Ever so gently, Zayne removes his tie from your mouth, turning you around so you’re pressed tight against his chest, burying his face into the crook of your shoulder. You can feel his rapid heartbeat and the way his hands tremble, and you smile, the familiar tenderness of his touch calming the both of you.
He slowly runs a hand down the curve of your back and you hum against the top of his head, your own hand coming up to gently stroke his hair. “I think I love you, Zayne.”
He doesn’t say a word, instead, you feel his other arm wrap around your waist, tucking you further into his embrace.
The two of you remain like this, tangled in each other until your breathing finally evens out and the fever that inflected you begins to cool. When Zayne finally speaks, his voice is muffled against your skin, and you shiver at the mere brush of his lips. “You’re not hurt, are you?”
“Hmm, not any more than I’d want to be.” 
You mean it as a joke, but Zayne immediately stiffens in your hold, pulling back just enough to inspect your neck, then your wrists and hips as he kisses each bruise and remaining mark with hushed apologies. 
"Did you mean it?"
You look down at him, his brows furrowed as you thumb at the stubborn crease that appears between them. You’re not sure why, but something in the way he stares up at you, waiting, longing, makes tears prick in the back of your eyes. 
"Zayne," your voice is gentle, and you cup his cheek. "I do. I love you."
The tension in his jaw melts, his expression softening into something unnameable. His hand comes up to cup yours, scarred thumb tracing circles against your palm. " Say it again."
"I love you," you repeat, the corners of your mouth tugging upwards. "I love you. I love you."
"Again."
"I love you, Zayne–"
The last syllable of his name is cut off by his lips against yours, and you smile into the kiss, pulling him up until his forehead finally rests on your again. 
"As do I," Zayne whispers, voice thick as he hold you close.
And you believe him.
3K notes · View notes
babystarbun · 2 months ago
Text
fucking you right— j.jk
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pairing— alpha!jungkook x omega!reader
genre— abo, dubcon, smut, stepcest, MDNI!
word count— 6400
warnings— fondling/body inspection, slut shaming, mentions of being drugged(not by jungkook), somnophilia, size difference, big dick jungkook, degradation, unprotected sex, rough sex, squirting, breeding
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‘Watch over your sister for me, yeah? I really didn’t want you brats to come along on my honeymoon but her mom insisted.’
‘Step-sister.’
Jungkook curses under his breath, lathering his chest with sun protection from the pool chair he’s been glued to while silently watching you prance around flirting with every damn Alpha in sight.
This is fucking ridiculous. 
He tried to argue with his father, exclaiming loudly that he’s no one’s babysitter. He’s too old for this shit, you are too old for this shit. Only to get shut down immediately and reprimanded for being so insolent. 
It’s only been 3 months since your parents mated and decided to take the traditional human route. An absurdly overpriced wedding ceremony and luxury cruise honeymoon, one that he had zero interest in being a part of, and yet here he is. Against his will.
‘Not everyone can be lucky enough to bring their kids along on a once in a lifetime vacation like this.’ Your mom had said with a huge smile, squeezing you against her side while Jungkook’s father grimaced and forced a pleased grin onto his unenthused face. 
Kids? He’s a fucking grown ass man. Not his fault that piled up student loans have screwed him out of the opportunity to move out sooner. He’s not the one that insisted on becoming a doctor. 
‘No son of mine will embarrass my name with some bullshit nonsensical career. Medical school is the only option unless you plan to find your ass on the street in a few weeks.’ 
God, his dad can be such a fucking dickhead.
The last thing Jungkook wanted was to spend a week stuck on a cruise ship with you of all people. Even worse when he found out you’d be sharing a room together. At least he got to claim the bed closest to the window, not that looking out of a cruise ship did much other than make his stomach turn upside down. 
This is seriously miserable. And of course you managed to pack nothing but the skimpiest summer outfits. If your parents weren’t so busy holed up together likely fucking like rabid newlyweds(disgusting), he’s sure that your mother would have some choice words for your attire.
“Should you really be wearing that?” He snickered at you this morning. Still laying in bed when you exited the bathroom with your hair and face all dolled up. Nothing but a string bikini and sheer sarong hung on your hips. “It’s 9 in the morning.”
“We’re on a cruise and it’s mid-August. Just because you like to create a sauna for your balls in those baggy sweats doesn’t mean the rest of us can’t enjoy summer.” You shot him a glare before sliding on a pair of sunglasses. Flicking your hair over your shoulder and exiting your shared room without another glance. “Later loser.”
Really, he should slap you. Right on the ass. It’s not as if you have any problem showing it off. Especially not around the hungry unmated Alphas that have started to swarm around you at the pool currently. His father would probably pat him on the back for putting you in your place, someone has to. Who knows when the last time was that you had a real Alpha in your life that corrected this foul behavior for you. Heaven knows your mother is much too clueless to bother punishing you for acting like such a..
“Slut.” He scoffs quietly, rolling his eyes. Another young, unmated, handsome Alpha approaches you, easily gliding an arm around your waist with a huge grin on his face that you reciprocate. This has to be the seventh guy that’s approached you in only the last 2 hours now. It can’t seriously be this easy..
It’s annoying more than anything to listen to you squeak out little playful screams, soft breathy giggles, utilizing your loose hands to grab onto the many different bulging biceps attempting to latch around you. Jungkook can’t help but to feel more and more enraged the longer he sits here watching. God, you haven’t even noticed him. 
He can’t stand to watch this bullshit for much longer. His dad had bribed him with limitless spa visits and bar access anyway for agreeing to come.
He sighs and hesitantly gets up, sauntering his way over to you. Taking a hold of your elbow from behind, he pulls you against his chest. “Hey you.” He says flatly, tone low and serious.
“Huh? Ew, get off of me!”
Jungkook’s ready to tell you off, only to be stopped by 2 large Alphas that shove him back. “Hey man! You heard her!”
“Stop stop!” You intervene before they can pummel him into smithereens. “He’s my step-brother.”
A silent ominous dread passes between the two of you, catching each other's gaze for only a few fleeting seconds before looking away. “Whatever.” He mutters, carelessly waving you off. “Hope they do something unforgivable to you.”
He’ll regret whispering that if any of these brutes touch you without your consent. They shouldn’t. They don’t even know or care about you. Not that he does either.. but he knows you well enough to know that these aren’t the Alphas you should be wasting your time with.
The bar calls to him, charging his way towards the one far away from the pool area. His march slows down, coming to a halt mid-hallway to shove his head inside of a dark room full of neon lights and rapid clicking sounds.
“Gaming room?!” Leave it to his father to fail to mention this ship has a huge fucking arcade. He’s always hated Jungkook’s lifelong gaming addiction. Knowing his son, he’d predict for him to be holed up in here the entire trip instead of enjoying his vacation.
Hours and hours fly by as he competes with the other losers holed up in the ships arcade. Young men with no interest in burning off their first layer of skin out on deck. He plays well into the evening until his hand starts to cramp up and he envisions a clear future of himself 50 years down the line with a permanently claw shaped grip.
“I should head out.” He announces. Bowing before parting ways with the new group of shipmates he befriended while playing, mentioning to catch up with them tomorrow. He walks out toward the room he’s sharing while rubbing at his stomach. Definitely missed dinner while lost in an intense brawl in Street Fighter, room service would have to do.
He’s starving actually, the more he thinks about it. You had a lot of snacks when you unpacked, maybe he could sneak something for himself. By now you’re probably locked up in some Alphas room doing what he refuses to let his mind imagine.
The last thing he’d expect to see when unlocking the door is you laid out in bed, flat on your stomach and fast asleep. Still in your tiny bathing suit, curled up like a kitten breathing softly. It takes him aback for a few seconds, gripping onto the door frame as he takes in your manicured toenails, smooth waxed limbs, and the pert round of your ass jutted out so nicely. Locking the door behind him, he recalls his father’s words to watch out for you, make sure you stay out of trouble.
Something about how a pretty little Omega like you is susceptible to dangerous Alphas wanting nothing more than to bite into your supple flesh. To mark you as theirs.
Jungkook should check, make sure his dads worries have not come true. That’s the only reason he gingerly lifts your ankle up and smooths his palm up your calf. Slowly tracing up the muscle in search of any markings that could indicate an Alpha attempted to claim you as theirs.
It’s amazing how silky soft your skin feels, not a single bump or even a slight hint of stubble. You really must have gotten waxed before venturing out on this trip, which only makes him wonder if you opted for a full body service. That would only make sense, what with the 10 different stringy bikini sets he watched you pull out of your luggage. 
“Hmm,” pushing your thighs apart, he climbs onto the bed. Knees sinking into the mattress between your spread open legs. 
Inner-thigh would be a prime area for any Alpha to leave a mark. Something not too obvious that reeks of ownership. “Nothing.”
Not a single mark on your smooth skin, so easily rippling under his touch. Sinking and kneading his fingertips into the meaty flesh lining your upper thigh, he can’t stop the sigh that exits his mouth. Leaning down closer to untie your sarong.
You must have come back from the pool all heat exhausted and knocked out. Good thing, because any Alpha would be too tempted around an Omega so innocently vulnerable like this. Not Jungkook though, he’d never do anything to hurt you. That’s why he has taken it upon himself to watch after you, his precious baby step-sister. Because who better than him to make sure a bratty Omega like you knows her place? 
Oh what’s that? Is that..
“Bite marks.” He sneers, pushing your buttcheeks open to get a full look at what looks like indentations left behind on the top of your left ass cheek. Who the fuck have you been allowing to mark up your otherwise flawless complexion?
Right on your ass? You fucking slut. 
He licks at his teeth out of hunger, sitting back on his haunches and bending in even closer for a real magnified look. Cupping your ass and pushing your butt apart, he buries his fingers into your buttcheeks. The tip of his round nose brushes along the backs of your thighs. Squinting at your rim covered only by a small teenie lycra material that flexes with each rough massage from his hands.
They could be teeth marks, maybe a light scratch. Maybe his heated up brain is playing tricks on him. Either way, one thing is for certain, no one should be leaving a mark on you. No one except him.
“Jungkook?” Your groggy confused voice opens his eyes wide and full. Looking up over the roundness of your bottom, he catches your gaze momentarily. “What are you doing?”
“What I should have done weeks ago.”
Jungkook gulps, shaking his head rapidly with his back pressed to the door. He hasn’t moved an inch since entering your room. Swallowed up by the scent of you spread between these four walls. He has to work to control his breathing, reaching up to physically cover his eyes and push away the thoughts filling up his head. 
He shouldn’t be imagining such things. Thinking up the different ways he could touch you so inappropriately..
No. He shouldn’t be salivating over his step-sister passed out in bed half nude. Vulnerable for any deplorable Alpha to take advantage of. It’s his job to protect you, to make sure your precious womb remains untouched from any unworthy Alpha scumbag.
“Jungkook?” You ask out sleepily, voice all tired from screaming and laughing with random Alphas. 
“Yeah.” He says through gritted teeth, forcing himself away from the door.
“Smelled you.”
“Oh yeah.” Stiffly sitting down on his bed, he squeezes at the tops of his thighs. Pushing his legs together tightly to quell the warmth building up in his ballsack. “Tired?”
“Mmmph..” mumbling something incoherent, you roll over until you reach the edge of the bed. Pushing yourself off to stand clumsily and furiously blink sleep away from your eyes. “I d-don’t even know why.” You slur, swaying from foot to foot.
Jungkook frowns, observing your lazy hunched forward posture. How you can’t stabilize yourself, how your hands flail in search of something to grab onto. “Hey, what’s going on?” He says, mildly concerned. Standing back up to rush over and grab a hold of you before you collapse back onto the bed. 
Lazy eyes struggle to blink up at him, spending extra time attempting to fully open them and get a look at his face. You almost look..
“Are you drunk? Did you take something??”
“N-no..” you gargle, easing into his hold more comfortably. “Feel dizzy..”
Fuck. He knew it. Those fucking untrustworthy Alphas must have slipped you something. “What did you take?”
“W-water..” clutching your hands onto his biceps, you squeeze down to keep yourself standing. Scuttering on the balls of your feet and toes trying to stay steady.
“Water?!” He practically shouts, moving around to set you down on your bed. He sits you up right, grabbing a hold of your face to get a better look at your eyes. “Fuck, don’t you know better than to accept drinks from strangers?!?”
“Stop yelling at me!” You whine, scrabbling at his abdomen. “I f-feel.. nothing. Can’t feel anything at all.”
“God, just—hold on.” Letting go of his grip on you, he spins around quickly to the bathroom. Searching for a small cloth towel to immerse in cold water while slamming open a cabinet that had complimentary water bottles stowed away inside when you arrived. 
Fuck, this wouldn’t even be happening right now if you’d just listened to him in the first place. If you’d just let him stick around to watch those assholes you were hanging out with. How could you let this happen?!? He’s going to have to keep you under a tight watch for the rest of this stupid cruise.
“Alright, you need to drink this.” He instructs walking back into the room. Halting dead in his tracks when he sees you knocked out once again. 
Only on your back this time, legs slightly spread open. Leaving him no choice but to gawk at how smooth your inner thighs are. How your tiny little bikini clings to your pussy. He stumbles back against the door frame and forces his eyes shut to catch his breath, has to pinch himself to make sure he’s not hallucinating again. 
At least you’re safe with him now, here in this room you’re sharing. Safe with the pounding heat between his legs growing larger by the second. Every ounce of worry he had dissipates quickly in favor of once again taking in your legs hanging off the bed. The way your chest slowly rises and falls back down with each easy breath you inhale and exhale. 
“You’re impossible.” He says to himself, pushing off from the door. Dragging his feet across the floor, he plops down next to you, reaching to move the strands of hair away from your face that cover your cheek. You’re really out of it, eyes open enough to see some of the whites, breathing so softly and calmly. Completely unaware of your step-brother’s internal struggle. So innocently naive to his gaze burning down your body.
He shudders a little bit, bouncing around the cooled down wash cloth in his other hand. He should place it on your head.. should try to wake you back up. Yes, because he knows that’s the right thing to do.
“You need to wake up.” He struggles to say through wads of saliva collecting in his mouth. Laying the towel against your forehead gently, he traces down your cheek to your parted lips. Lightly tapping the middle of your plump bottom lip. “And drink water.” Letting out a sigh, he continues to brush tendrils of hair away from your neck. Smoothing them back past your shoulders and chest.
That’s when he sees it, a jagged little mark on the side of your neck. It’s light, as if a set of teeth tried to dig in and failed. A smidge of blood, barely a hint of it, dried up along the peeled skin. 
Anger rushes through him rapidly, clutching his hand into a tightly balled up fist. He sits up fast and hooks onto your shoulders. Hoisting you off the bed to press his nose in close to the barely-there wound. The scent of Alpha hits him first before your savory sweetness can. Instantly causing his blood to boil. He snarls at the hint of another Alpha trying to claim you against your will.
Trembling hands pull you up the bed, shaking as he moves to stand and looks over you. If those brutes could get this close to your scent gland, who knows where else they could have left a mark. He can’t calm down enough to rationalize whether or not this is a bad idea. Every inch of him screams to lick you clean. Clean off the unwanted and unpermitted scent of trash lingering to your skin.
It’s what your parents would want.. your mother would lose her mind if she knew you’d let any old Alpha touch you improperly. 
This is his duty as your older brother. 
Step-brother.
He sinks back onto your bed, knees digging into the mattress by your side. Licking over his lips as he hunches over your limp body, drained of energy by whatever was slipped into your drink. He has to get closer, get a good look at every inch of your precious skin. 
Starting at your neck, he checks behind your ears. Along your nape, down to your collarbone, lift your arms up to drag his nose along the inside of your forearm down to the crook of your elbow.
Unknown scents of Alpha continue to swarm around him, furiously moving faster to find something he may have missed. It’s nothing like his fantasy this time, he can’t control himself anymore the stronger your delectable sugary sweetness infiltrates his senses. Throwing a leg over your hips, he mounts your lower half and proceeds to reach for the triangles covering your breasts. Groaning as he pulls them down and your fat tits bounce out so freely. “Fuck.” He salivates, licking at his sharp canines.
No marks, nothing to ruin your perfect breasts. Your nipples pointed up taut and hard from the cool air filling up your room. The wrinkled skin of your aureoles a few shades darker, tempting his hungry mouth the longer he examines the skin between your chest. “They could have gotten you here, huh?” Sucking at his teeth, he smooths up your stomach and cups under your natural heavy tits. Pushing them up with a groan. His hips roll down against yours instinctively without a second thought. The marks of your bikini top indentations line up above your rib cage, pushing more saliva to swallow up his tongue. 
“Fuck, see, this is where I would have marked you.” He mutters raspily, hips jerking again. The tent in his pants poking at your mound. “Mom and dad would never be able to notice, not with these big pretty titties. They’d sit just right on any mark, cover them up perfectly.”
He hisses, lapping at the drool leaking from the corners of his lips. Who is he kidding? He’d have to leave bite marks all over you. Needs to make it clear that you belong to him only. Your flesh, your sex, every centimeter of your body is his. It’d be for the best, such a stupid Omega like you, so easily impressed by Alphas far beneath you. Jungkook would make sure you’d act proper, that your eyes would never roam away from him.
As tempted as he is to do just that right now, he has to keep looking. Desperate to ensure that the rest of your flawless skin hasn’t been fucked with, he scours lower. Dragging the tips of his fingers down to your waist, digging into the dips there. “You’re so pretty, it’s no wonder they were all over you out there. Should have let me put them in their place and set the rules down.” Gruffly speaking, he continues to venture lower, reaching the strings of your bikini.
“You didn’t..” raising an eyebrow, he pulls at the bows tied up on your hips. Gingerly lifting the straps up to unveil your mound. Hairless, absolutely hairless, and so God damn smooth. It’s unbelievable that you could be even prettier between your thighs, your most hidden area. “None of them would deserve it, you know that right?” He goes on conversing with himself like a man gone mad, scooting back to barely place his weight on your knees. 
“I would keep my Omega satisfied.” He nods to himself, revealing the rest of your cunt with a deep inhale. “Fuck.”
You’re perfect, absolutely perfect in every way. Twitching his cock to full size against his pelvis, he can’t stop his hips from jumping forward. Dropping the strings of your bathing suit just to sit back for a moment to drag his eyes all over your body. From your supple rounded breasts lifting up on top of the rise from your lungs expanding, to the dip in your waist trailing down to your curved hips encasing the cutest little pussy he’s ever seen. 
It wouldn’t be right for any other Alpha to have you over him. He’s the only one who would treat you right.. keep you safe and give you a good life. You’d never have to work, only worry would be to keep your Alpha pleased. Wouldn’t be hard at all judging by the way his cock can’t stop throbbing, pushing against his bottoms to be let out. 
Looks like those creeps weren’t around your thighs, that’s good.. maybe one of them got too bold while sniffing around your throat. Unless..
Sinking down lower with his stomach pressed to the bed, he nudges your knees apart more. Slipping in closer until his face is right in front of your core. “Did you let any of them touch you here?” He asks almost mindlessly. Tongue heavy and mind blanketed with a thick haze.
The Jungkook you’ve come to know as your step-brother is long gone by now, fully taken over by his Alpha instincts that crave to feel you from the inside. To stuff himself so deep inside of you so that you only taste him for weeks to come. “Let me get a look at you baby.” Sucking at the saliva pooled in his mouth, he parts your thighs open even more with a muffled groan. 
He’s not one to use terms of endearment with you ever, overcome by his desire to leave his own marks behind, he can’t stop the words from coming out of his mouth. “Just like that.” Huffing through his nose, he grabs onto your knees to press the sides of your thighs against the bed. Spreading you completely open for his curious and hungry gaze. 
Fuck. You’re already wet, so wet. There’s no way you didn’t let one of those pigs touch you here. That simply won’t do, Jungkook can’t let their scent stain your gorgeous Omegan aroma. Can’t let remnants of those Alphas remain inside of you. 
You’d let them fill you full of his seed, wouldn’t you? So desperate to be loved by anyone. You’d let them use you like nothing but a cheap Omega whore.
A twitch up your thigh under his caressing palm snaps him out of his mental despair. Shaking off his anger to squint and get a good look at your parted open labia folds. They glisten so fucking pretty. 
Looks normal, tight little hole pulsing lightly. Continuously streaming a line of slick down to the crevice between your squished buttcheeks. But maybe he needs to do a more thorough check. Really get in there.. who knows. Asshole Alphas are capable of anything.
Shifting himself into a better position for his face to hover near your cunt, he swipes a thumbs gently between your puffy outer folds. “Fucking hell..” he whispers, sucking drool once more before leaning his face in even closer. Getting his nose close enough to suck up a deep greedy inhale of your sweet slick without actually touching you, yet. 
Slick won’t stop trickling out even now, raising one of Jungkook’s eyebrows with interest as he purses his lips and blows at your exposed clit. That earns tremor through your limbs, bouncing under his hand that’s still laid on top of one of your thighs. Each small touch from his thumb moving your folds from side to side to get a look at every inch of you seems to ignite another shiver. Clenching your tight entrance each time trembles work through your body. He curses under his breath with fixated large eyes stuck on your hole, grinding his teeth together to not let out another obscene compliment about how pretty your pussy is.
It’s too much for him, already dizzied by only looking at your wet cunt. He almost caves when your thighs begin to snap around him, forcing his hand to slide off as your stomach folds in and you let out one of the sweetest pitchiest moans he’s ever heard. 
There’s no way.. no way all it took was some barely there touching to make you cum. “Did you really just—“
In full awe, he grabs onto your trembling thighs once again to set them against the bed. Returning his hand back to your pussy to stroke between your sensitive lips. “That really all it takes to get you off baby? Cause I have so much more for you.” 
Jungkook contemplates how much longer he can continue to inspect you before his dick suffocates and dies inside of his pants. Using two of his digits to hold you open, his other hand smooths up your thigh. Flicking his thumb out teasingly at the small hood hiding your clit. 
“How many Alphas have had their way with you baby?” He asks desperately. Fearing that you haven’t had many, if any at all. No slutty Omega could ever cum this easily, only one so touch deprived and needy.. “My baby sister..” he hisses, licking at his teeth. “You’re really too sweet and innocent, aren’t you?”
Stretching your slicked up folds apart again, he slowly blinks and sighs. Tapping your fluttering hole. “I’m way too big. I’ll break you.”
And that’s exactly what you need, to be broken. No other Alpha should have this chance with you. Jungkook’s doing you a favor, really. He’s doing this as a man with your best interest who cares about you and loves you.
“You’ll thank me later.” 
Settling between your thighs, he strips the strings of your swimsuit away. Sliding the material out from beneath you to leave you completely nude for his lust filled eyes. His hands itch again, slowly dragging from your ankles, up your smooth calves, to your knees and thighs. Pinching and kneading the skin lining your inner thighs as he swallows down another breathy groan and reaches for his pants. 
It’s hot as fuck inside of his boxers, sticky with precum and the heat radiating off of his skin from keeping his cock trapped for so long. He deserves an award for taking this much time to appreciate and admire you like the piece of art you are before hanging you up on his walls for no one other than himself to enjoy.
He’d bury his face between your thighs if not for the way his dick smacks against his abdomen, leaving a stream of wet above his navel. He’s shocked he didn’t cum from that alone. Softly grunting as he peels off the rest of his clothing and works simultaneously to kick and toss aside the damp materials coated with his sweat.
“That’s better.” He whispers, pulling the backs of your thighs onto his bare ones. It’s only right with the way your pussy hasn’t stopped dripping down onto the bedding that he assists your needs. Even if you were to wake up now, you wouldn’t stop him. You’d moan and beg for more. For Alpha to somehow get deeper inside of you than he already plans to.
You really are too small now that he slaps his cock down onto your mound. Rubbing his lips together as he drags the tip past your bellybutton and stays still to take in how fucking big he looks against your stomach. With his dick fully sheathed inside of you, he’ll practically be fucking between your lungs.
How is he supposed to even get his cockhead inside of your tiny little pussy? Let alone far enough inside of you to paint your cervix white with his hot cum. 
Reaching under the weight of his heavy length, he spreads your cunt open again with his digits. Struggling to hold you wide open with the amount of slick that’s gathered between your pussy folds. He shifts back letting out a wet gasp as he slides the head of his cock down to your hole. 
It’ll hurt if he fucks you already, you might even wake up. Might thrash around and shout that it’s too much, it’s too damn much for your sweet tight cunt to take. A few more thrusts and he’d have you singing a different tune. It’s just too tempting to not try, to stop himself from pushing in a mere inch of his thick girth. To watch your hole expand past the slit of his tip, fight against the wide stretch that splits you open.
Supple soft thighs twitch around him as he does just that and teases at your entrance. Biting down on his lips with wrinkled eyebrows, he can’t stop the pleasured moan that escapes. He knew you’d love it, the small bit of contact from his cock already jolting your hips up for more.
Popping the little bit of tip out that he got inside, he lets out a winded gasp. Clutching onto the base of his cock before dragging it through your folds, prodding the chubbed up flesh from side to side. “Fuck, you’re so wet. Probably thinking about me. All the ways you want Alpha to ruin your pretty fucking cunt.”
He’s delirious now, muttering nonsense the more he fights against himself to not glide his cock inside of you. A moment of silence washes over him as he takes you in one more time. How God damn pretty you look, all peaceful with shiny drool on your lips, parted open quietly panting but still loud enough for his ears to pick up on. Nipples erect, hard and pointed at him begging to be nibbled on.  
So perfect in every way. His little step-sister, his Omega. 
A quiet breathy moan draws him back, shaking his head rapidly before staring down at you with huge wide eyes. He scoops around your thighs, tugging you over his hips completely. “I know baby, I know.”
Swiping his cock between your folds again, he gets himself nice and wet. Slick dripping down to his balls before placing his cockhead against your hole again. Slowly inching closer, he stuffs the tip against your resisting hole, groaning deep as he pushes in more than just that half inch he teased you with. Getting the fat tip of his size further in until your cunt hole snaps around him and your breath catches. Chest rising faster from the intrusion of a thick size you’ve never taken before.
Wedging himself even deeper between your legs, he finds the perfect angle to start rolling his hips forward. The first thrust of his cock inside of you still struggles against how tight you are even with the amount of slick pouring out of your hole around his size. It takes a few more attempts before he finally feels himself sinking inside of your wet heat. Jaw dropping at the suck around his cock, how your walls throb against his penetrating girth and try to push him out and pull him in at the same time. It’s fucking mind numbing, rolling his eyes back as he gets the rest of his dick slotted inside of you until he’s filled you to the brim.
“Fuck baby.” A loud deep groan bursts out of him, unbothered by how loud he’s being anymore. If you wake up, then fucking wake up. He’d love to see you try to deny how good this feels, how right this is. “So warm, wet..” he rambles, going on to himself about how tight you are. How good you suck him in, clenching even tighter around him on his next thrust inside. He can’t stop groaning now, shaking sweaty strands of hair away from his face as he reaches for your waist for better leverage. Using his rough grip on you to build up speed and pin you to the bed.
“Fuckfuck!” Jungkook gets too rough too fast, stealing broken sobs out of you. Bouncing your body higher up the bed with each violent thrust until the top of your head meets the wall and he has to grab onto your shoulders to keep you in place for his cock to take and take.
“Yeah, that’s it sweetheart.” He says breathily, eyes wrinkling shut when you tighten up around him so much that he’s forced to slow down. Using extra strength to fuck in past how tight you’ve gotten, how much your pussy sucks around him indicating how close you are to release. He can’t hold back the string of curses that scream out between his grinding teeth. Pounding his cock in harder as your hips rise up from the bed like you’re offering yourself to him. Even asleep you’re such a fucking slut.
“T-too good, feel too good for me.” He nearly whimpers. Hips stilling when your thighs quiver on his and a hot stream of clear liquid shoots out around his hidden cock. Powerful enough to make him stop, out of breath and slumped over in awe watching as slick fountains out around him.
“God sweetheart, no way you seriously j-just fucking squirted.” Gasping for air, he has to tear his gaze away from where his dick begins to slide halfway out of you. Gritting his teeth to tone down the dragged out moan that slips out. Slick completely covers his groin, filthy and clumped up in his pubic hair. Wetting his cock enough for his next thrust to cram the entirety of his size inside of you seamlessly. “You’re taking me so good now. My pretty fucking Omega learns so fast.”
Jungkook hooks around your thighs, fully slotted inside of your tight delicious cunt as he props his feet hard against the mattress for better force. Throwing the fronts of your thighs to your chest, he draws out to the tip only to slam his lower half back down and pretzel you into a brutal mating press position. Determined to stuff your pussy to the brim with his seed, he pummels down harder. Building up a fast and steady rhythm from the start despite the sweat that drips down into his eyes. 
“That’s it, take it.” Curling in his upper lip, he sucks at the sweat trickling down. Dropping his body against your limp one. He sinks you deeper into the cruise ship bed that will never be the same again once he’s done with you. “Take it so fucking good, gonna fuck you full of my pups. Make you my breeding bitch.”
Lost to his Alphas desires, he continues to plow into you. Eyes heavy with sweltering body heat and sweat, failing to notice your own fluttering open. You under him, finally awoken by the overstimulating sensitivity shooting from your core.
“J-Jungkook..” you whisper helplessly. Blearily staring up at the beast on top of you having every bit of his way with you.
“Fu-fuck!” He cries out, digging into the backs of your knees. Pushing at them until they meet your shoulders and he can push his cock inside of you balls deep. The deep growling call of Alpha rips out of him, face scrunched up as hot semen ripples its way out of his heavy balls pressed to your ass. Shooting out violent streams of hot cum to coat your cervix with as he promised himself. 
Slowly heaving for breath and blinking, you meet his ravenous gaze. Opening and shutting your mouth to get some saliva on your dried tongue. Pathetically squeezing around his cock for the last bits of cum.
“Y-you came inside of me..” you say confused, sounding drowsy. Straining your neck to watch as he pulls out, releasing a loud wet pop as his softening length slaps against his upper thigh. Gleaming in remnants of your slick mixed with his seed. The feeling of emptiness between your thighs immediately sinks down your chest. Letting out a soft complaining whine, having to calm your Omega from embarrassing you and begging to be stuffed full of cock again.
Jungkook grabs onto your thighs, cupping the backs of them and hauling them up to expose your gaped cunt. The size of his thick cock leaving you stretched open, angling your hips up to watch his cum glide deeper inside of you. “I did.”
“I’m not on the pill.” You say quietly and ashamed. Turning your face to the side to bury into a pillow. 
A groan rumbles up his chest, licking at his bottom lip with a pleased hum. The visual of your pussy swallowing down his future pups and your confession shoots through his cock. “Your mom would be so proud, getting pupped by your step-brother. You could only ever pray to every deity to be so lucky.”
“You can’t..” you sigh. More exhausted now after climaxing over and over again. “They’d disown us.”
Jungkook throws your thighs down onto the bed, stroking his cock back to its fully hardened size. “Let them then.” Grabbing onto your hip, he pushes you onto your stomach. Wrapping one of his hands along the back of your neck before you can break out of the position he’s got you into. “You’re mine now Omega. Won’t stop fucking you until you’re bred full of my pups. Gonna keep you stuck on my knot from now on.”
“Jungkook..” mild fear sounds in your voice, shifting your face to plant your cheek to the bed. Peering back at him from the corner of your eye. 
“Beg for it.” He says dangerously. Slapping his full hard size against your ass. Hissing from the way your skin ripples upon contact. Soft and supple under the weight of his heavy cock.
A silent moment of curiosity and anticipation passes between you. Blinking long and slow at him before pouting. “Alpha..”
“Say it.”
“Alpha, please,” shoving your stomach against the bed, you arch out. Presenting your bottom to him. “Knot me.”
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pandoraspurgatory · 4 months ago
Text
What Friends are for
Bakugo Katsuki x Fem!Reader. Katsuki cant masturbate, and it’s up you to help him out<3
I’ve been utterly obsessed with this headcanon since I saw it on AO3, I hope you enjoy it as much as I do
Cw: Masturbation, FWB, BJ, Ball play, Slightly Submissive Katsuki, only slightly MINORS DNI
Being insatiably horny with no release, was a frustrating situation for anybody, though for Katsuki it was worse, bordering on making him insane. He heard it all the time, his friends constantly spouting “just jerk off, it’ll calm you down!” And similiar nonsense that made his blood boil. As if jerking off could change the course of the planet like his classmates chalked it up to be.
It was hard to ignore though, the United Alliance dorms had been a cesspit of horny young adults since the 1st year. Though now the class were in their 3rd year of Class 1A and were all 18; Sex was the hot topic of the year.
He didn’t understand the logic behind it, but somehow once everyone became legal adults, the taboo flew out the window and immersed itself as casual conversation.
It was only last month that Denki and Kirishima made an attempt at the infamous ‘No Nut November”. Katsuki never bothered to ask how long they lasted, though was tempted to join the class betting pool on who would loose first.
Though in hindsight the NNN betting pool was a horrific idea, with half the class trying to set up Kirishima, and half the class trying to set up Denki. Katsuki is confident he never wants to see Mina dressed up as Midnight again after that ordeal, or Mineta in a maid costume.
He wouldn’t admit it within an inch of his life, but Katsuki had never successfully touched himself. There were multiple attempts of humping into his mattress, grinding himself against his pillow and even a weird porn meditation thing he found that was supposed to make him ‘cum with his mind’. It failed miserably, he doesn’t like to think about it.
The issue is his quirk, he can only stroke and pump himself for about 30 seconds until his palms start to spark and he ends up with burns all over his shaft. There are the options of hand free masturbating tools made for people with the same predicaments, though he couldn’t bare the humiliation if his classmates ever found out about it.
It wasn’t until he bit the bullet and tried to do it again. It happened like clockwork every few months, and it always ended the same unsatisfying and painful way.
It was 1am in the morning. Katsuki was rarely up this time of the night, but this particular morning he woke up with a painfully hard erection and his dick dripping precum from a rather erotic dream he had.
A wall away, you slept soundly in your bed, covers snug up to your chin as your heated mattress protecter added extra comfort to your needed slumber. Though that peacefulness was soon interrupted by the sound of small explosions and a frustrated groan coming from the wall opposite your bed.
Having Bakugo Katsuki as a dorm room neighbour was usually pleasant. Though despite his crude personality and edgy nature; he was a clean, quiet and reserved person. Respecting the quiet curfew of the dorms.
Hence why hearing him in distress was out of the ordinary, you shot up in bed, listening for more noises as you quickly emerged from your warm sheets.
Thoughts swarmed through your mind, was Bakugo sick? Having a nightmare? Lost control of his quirk?Did a villain get him?? You two were particularly close, and you came to the conclusion he couldn’t be too mad if you barged into his room at this hour. For all you knew, he could have lost control of his quirk and charred half the room by now.
Throwing on your warm oodie and a pair of slippers, you exited your dorm and walked the few metres to Bakugos door. Hesitating for moment on whether to knock or not, eventually deciding it was futile, how could he open the door and greet you if he was being attacked by a villain?
Despite expecting the dorm room to be locked shut, the door swung open after you gripped and turned the handle. Katsukis room was pitch black, only slightly lightened by the sparks emerging from his palms every few seconds.
The sound of fabric rustling and panted breaths filled your ears as you felt for the light switch, ready to activate your quirk any second incase there was actually a villain hiding somewhere around you. You finally found the switch and hit it, bright light encased the small room, revealing Katsuki sitting up on his bed.
Before you could properly stare at his horrified and bewildered face and red cheeks, your eyes caught on to the sight of his hard cock. Leaking precum into his sheets and bouncing back against his abdomen as he tried to shove it down.
He felt his aching dick twitch, he only felt himself grow harder as he looked at your face. It was grossly perverted and Katsuki damn well knew it. However it couldn’t be controlled after his vivid dream of pounding you into the mattress, the dream which brought him to his exact situation. The meek sound of your voice tore him from his racing thoughts.
“Bakugo… I’m so sorry… I thought you were in danger”
He swallowed, if he wasn’t in danger before then he definitely was now. Only god knows who you could message and call about this later, for all he knew he could go downstairs tomorrow only to be relentlessly teased for gawking at you as he sat there stark naked. He had to say something, before you-
Fuck… what? Why were you? He couldn’t believe his eyes as you walked up to where he was and sat beside him. You placed your hand over his with a small smile creeping onto the corners of your mouth. His throat felt painfully dry like it was filled with cotton.
“Kats… spill it”
“Spill what idiot? That you’re creeping into my room like a crazy woman, how dare-“
“Seriously, people don’t get hard and decide to explode their room at 1 in the morning.”
This was it, the moment of truth he had spent his teenage years dreading. To top this shitshow off, he would have to tell the truth to the person who got him all hot and bothered like this in the first place. Fuck, he couldn’t say it, he couldn’t admit that-
You interrupted once again.
“I’ve heard of this before, that some people get too… excited and set off their quirks when trying to pleasure themselves… is this the first time it’s happened?”
He swallowed his pride, there was no getting out of this one no matter how hard he tried.
“Try every time, I’ve never been able to fucking do it”. He growled, looking to the opposite side of the room to avoid meeting your gaze.
He began to mentally prepare himself to get the ridicule of a lifetime. Katsuki was what everyone wanted to be - strong, resilient, determined, and yet he couldn’t even jerk himself off.
“Can I help? If that’s okay…?”
The word please escaped his mouth before he could even think of a reply. He groaned as he realised how desperate he sounded for you to touch him.
Only moments later you pushed him down onto his plush mattress, wrapping your hand around his achingly hard length as it throbbed under your touch. His quiet groans quickly turning into a desperate moans as you started to stroke him at a slow pace.
The dream that awoke him only minutes earlier played back in his mind, his dick pulsated as he relished in the vision of you fucked out of your mind while his fat cock was stuffed into your soaked tight pussy.
He met your gaze through half lidded eyes, you smiled at him, signalling that it was okay. He finally felt himself relax into your warm and comforting touch, low moans escaping from his lips as you focused on rubbing his tip.
He would’ve thought by now he would’ve blown up his whole room, he wasn’t sure why his palms weren’t sparking and igniting. Though he chose not to dwell on it. Out of sight, out of mind he figured.
You stroked him slowly, trying to execute a confident demeanour despite the fact your mind was racing in a thousand different directions. You had your hands around the fat cock of Bakugo Katsuki, your only weakness and crush… no obsession of three long years. You had yet to be pushed away or blown to bits, so that had to be good news of some sort to indicate he was entranced as you were.
Your panties grew increasingly damp as you listened to his strained gasps, as much as you wanted to hop up and eagerly jump on his dick and have him make you his bitch until morning, this was about him and making him feel good.
Though it was now or never if you were going to tame the beast, slowly but surely you opened your mouth and wrapped your lips around his shaft. Without any warning, he bucked his hips into your face, his eyes rolled back into his head, your touch earning a whine from the back of his throat.
It took all his restraint not to fuck your throat until you were slobbering all over him like the slut he was going to make you. But his quirk hasn’t activated yet, and he wasn’t going to risk it happening in a moment like this.
You bobbed up and down, savouring his musky scent as you began to bring your focus to his throbbing tip yet again. Hollowing your cheeks as you sucked and swirled your tongue over him, tasting his slick precum.
An unexpected, high pitched whine filled your ears as you began to fondle his balls slowly, squeezing every now and then to truely give him the height of pleasure. Feeling increasingly proud of yourself as each ragged gasp emerged from him.
Katsuki couldn’t focus, completely blissed out at the exhilarating feeling of you pleasuring him with your lewd mouth. He always anticipated himself to be rough and dominant in the bedroom, though you had him trembling under your touch.
“Hnngg… feels so fucking good… keep- mhhmmm… going pretty girl”.
His husky voice was all you needed, sucking in a breath as you deepthroated his cock as you cupped and grabbed at his balls. You tried not to gag, his length was average but his girth was intense for a beginner like you. The corners of your lips aching as you struggled to envelop all of him into your mouth.
Katsuki suddenly grabbed a fistful of your hair as to try and suppress the urge to immediately spill himself down your tight throat. Where the fuck you leant this, he didn’t know. His face was flushed and his hair disheveled as you continued to suck him dry.
He hoped he’d have more warning to his impending orgasm, though as he felt his legs tremble and cock pulsate in your mouth. He could only manage to mutter a heads up.
“Fu… fuck.. nhgg… cumming”
You didn’t need to think twice, you wanted to feel his thick cum in your mouth as soon as the universe would will it, but it was no fun not seeing the action. Parting your lips from his dick, you gave him a few quick pumps as he quivered, spilling over the edge.
With a final grunt and a slight convulsion, he began to shoot his cum onto your face. The feeling of how his cock pulsated with each load made you weak. He knew there was nothing more fucking beautiful than the erotic look on your face as he ejaculated onto your lips.
His climax hit him like a freight train, shockwaves calming down in his body as his cock finally finished spilling itself. He looked at you, a dorky smile on your face as you gripped his hand.
He understood it all now, and there was no fucking way in hell he would ever participate in No Nut November with you around.
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thedeafprophet · 1 year ago
Text
Me: *writing on my tumblr blog and having a grand a ol time discussing the fucked up red honey stuff *
Youtube: * has a video of plain old regular bees *
Me: *immediatly has to change the tab out of fear *
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