I'm Sweating - Tumblr Posts
im pouring sweat and had to take a break in some grass but look at my super cool long board!!
groovy pt. 2 || (M)
↳ PART OF MY REWIND SERIES
Even in the 70s, it goes without saying that you shouldn’t have feelings for your best friend’s little sister.
pairing: tae x childhood friend!reader
word count: 10k
genre: 1970s au, fluff, ANGST, eventual smut, f2l
warnings: tae & OC do the NASTY (smut is being edited), Jimin is an endearing pothead, themes of death, unhealthy coping mechanisms such as alcohol and sex
A/N: This fic was entirely inspired by the song If I Could Tell her by from the musical Dear Evan Hansen. Go give it a listen ;)
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PART TWO **UNEDITED**
Hoseok crossed his arms over his chest, “Jimin, you gotta be higher than a kite to stand here and tell me that Jaws is scarier than The Exorcist.”
“Objection, your honor! How is that relevant to the argument?” Jimin turned towards Taehyung, his bottom lip jutting out ever so slightly.
“Overruled. I’ll allow it just this once.” Taehyung stated decidedly, rubbing at his chin dramatically.
“Fine.” Jimin squinted, turning back towards Hoseok, looking coy. “I will neither confirm or deny that accusation but I still vote Jaws.”
Continuar lendo
NAUUURRRRR guys cus Zerobaseone
I'm feeling things
mmkay so the episodes keep getting better and better and I’m honestly scared for my sanity and blood pressure atp HOW TF AM I SUPPOSED TO MAKE IT TO 2x08?
THERE IS KO FUXKXINF WAYAISHSKSUG DOSPSOWPQLALSKSND ???-$1@2”/&:!&::$
Louis’ eye; digital painting by me.
No shave November is here and i came here to present you my favorite edit(s) that i think about every minute of the day 👉🏽👈🏽 (and btw idk if these accounts are private sooo yeah lol)
This. That is all i have to say lol
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BLONDE PERFECTION
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Okay so i don’t save a lot of ethan edits but THIS. This is the oneeee
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THIS OMGGGG
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A BEAUTYYY
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Hawaii e 🥺🥺🥺
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I MISS HIS HAIR MAN WHY TF DID HE CUT IT THAT SHORT GODDAMMIT
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I.... is there anything that i have to say...
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.....what the fuck man
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Life was simpler when he dyed his hair lmao
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THEY FUCKING SNAPPED WITH THIS ONE
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This fucking event and this fucking legend that edited him ;&;$!($;&;8
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Lemme tie my hair real quick
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“When you leave I’m begging you not to go”
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Lol what’s oxygen??????
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Listen- okay I’m getting through a hard time rn so please no judgment here bc I REALLY FUCKING MISS IT gawd.... WHY WHY WHYYYY
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🥺🥺🥺🥺
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Okay let’s just ignore the username... and appreciate this masterpiece lmaoo
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THIS IS IT MY GUY. THIS. IS. IT.
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THIS IS SICK AS FUCK
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HAIR HAIR HAIR HAIRRRR
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BDDYHDHDUDHDJSUDHNWIX
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Saved this before the song blew up on yik yak lmao
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Still not over it lmaoooo
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THIS SONG WITH HIM DHDJFHJX 
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YUP YUP YUP YUP
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THIS ONE TOO OH MY GOOD GAWD
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THAT FUCKINGGG HAND GIRL
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Back to being a ~softie~ lol
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His cute
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OOP- NVM HIS HOT TOO HDHFJ
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He is a pretty boy
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THE TALENTTTT
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DHHDBFJF
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Oh my GODD... THE MEMORIES (if you remember her... then you’re on OG cuz yoo she is a g.o.a.t)
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“This is cute... i want this inside of me”
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Come here rude boy, boy, is you big enough?
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Again... The FUCKIN handssss
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I’m not the same person i was a minute ago
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Nvm I’m back
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I LOVED THE LOOP THAT SHE DID UGHH
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EVEYTHING ABOUT THIS EDIT BDHDHDJ
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IM GOING TO FUCKING SOB
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HATE HIM HATE HIM HATE HIM
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Back to my bby e
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Certified freak
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THIS SONG OH MY GODDD
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Error: Nikesbailey.exe not responding
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OOH YOU TEASIN ME YOU naughty naughty
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Ethan’s brother is hottt
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haha rail me
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Big dick b
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it’s his fault there a lot of edits lmaoo
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i love seeing him do shit like this
What's on my mind? Oh nothing... just me fucking you from behind. Your lips wrapped around my fingers, sucking on them to stifle your moans. Just thinking of the pretty noises you make. How you clench around my strap. Your back hot against my chest... yeah... nothing much really
my drawings of john don't even look remotely like him usudneidhekdhjd
Oh..Oh my goodness..I-
when you split the heart open
pairing: heeseung x reader, jake x reader (kind of)
genre: smut, angst (?)
summary: heeseung is dating the girl of his dreams. the only problem? he has to have sex with her.
warnings: unprotected sex, swearing, voyeurism, name-calling, manipulation, exhibitionism, dubcon, public sex, humiliation (?), heeseung is a cuck
word count: 5.1k
---
Heeseung had a girlfriend, and she was amazing. She was pretty, smart, funny, and her body was out of this world. She had a particular vibrancy and joie de vivre that made spending time with her invigorating. She was the opposite of a dead fish in the bedroom- she was vocal, enthusiastic, and loved to please him.
He disliked having sex with her.
Sometimes he almost pitied her; she would seduce him in any way she could, winding her hips seductively, crawling towards him on the bed wearing nothing but thigh-high socks, rubbing his crotch under the table when they ate out, anything to catch his attention. Of course, he didn’t pass up a good fuck – he wasn’t insane – but it did nothing for him but provide a quick release.
It wasn’t like he didn’t love her, he did. He was convinced that someday, he could even marry her. It’s just that he found that he loved her best when she was farther away from him, someone he could admire rather than keep. Heeseung found her beautiful at 11 pm, when she would dance alone in her bedroom wearing a baggy T-shirt. Or when she would shove her face into her pillow and thrust the end of a hairbrush into her pussy. It was an amazing night when he had caught that- he had been parked outside of her apartment complex, so he got a side-view, and the camera he had set up in her closet gave him a perfect shot of her smooth legs and raised ass. The day after that, when they had had sex in his van, the memory of her chasing her orgasm got him to finish.
Heeseung was a voyeur, and he was starting to think that it was becoming a problem. And it wasn’t even a problem he could complain about; in a moment of weakness, he had told his best friend Jay that he didn’t like how frequently his girlfriend wanted sex, and Jay had heavily implied that Heeseung was gay.
He was getting really sick and tired of having to fuck his girlfriend all the time. Heeseung had suggested mutual masturbation, which backfired. It ended up being too intimate for him and it just got her hot. She had pounced on him and ridden him as if her life depended on it.
At times, he missed how things were before they started dating. He had met her at her job, and had never revisited. Instead, he had waited for her shift to finish, followed her home, and tugged himself dry while he watched her undress in her room. The curtains were too sheer, and sometimes she wouldn’t even draw them. It made him think she wanted him to see her, and the thought of that always made him harder.
She had approached him at the local grocery store, as he was buying ramen noodles. She had said that she had wanted to see him again, Heeseung had made up some excuse, and through a series of events that Heeseung hadn’t lived through so much as passively observed, they had ended up dating.
It had been eight months of dating, cuddling, and sex, and he felt exhausted. He wanted things to go back to normal, but he also loved spending time with her. So he started making up excuses to not sleep with her. Headaches, shifts at work, weird erections from his medication.
One day, a few days after their eight month anniversary where Heeseung had reluctantly eaten her out, she confronted him. They were sitting on his couch, playing Mario Kart, when she turned to him.
“Do you still like me?” she asked, voice shaky.
Heeseung shut the TV off immediately. “Huh? Of course I like you- baby, I love you.” He rested his hands on hers as they clutched the controller.
“Then why don’t you like sleeping with me?”
“No, no, I…” Heeseung hesitated. This was the perfect time to come clean. They could work things out, maybe. It would be good to get it off his chest. “Okay. Okay, I’ve been having a…problem. It has nothing to do with you, I promise.”
Her eyes were wide and glassy. She was wearing his large hoodie and a pair of dolphin shorts. She looked perfect. “A problem?”
“Yes, a problem. I…I…look. I like you. I love you. You’re my girl.” Heeseung reached out and stroked her cheek gently. “The problem is that you’re just…like an angel to me. It feels wrong when I…when I fuck you.”
“What?” It came out as a squeak, and she recoiled from his touch. “Feels wrong?”
“No, no, not that you’re wrong, it’s me, it’s that…” Heeseung sighed. “I like to look at you I like seeing you move, it’s like art come to life. It feels like when I touch you, I’m sullying something beautiful, something that needs to be kept clean.” Heeseung thought that if he made it sound more romantic and less like a paraphilia, she would be more inclined to hear him out. And to his glee, she slowly leaned into his touch again, her cheek rubbing against his hand.
“You find me beautiful?”
“You are the most gorgeous woman I have ever met,” he said, staring her in her luminous eyes. “Too gorgeous for me.”
“You aren’t,” she said imploringly, holding his wrist with her two hands. “Heeseung, I love you. And I really like having sex with you. Why did you sleep with me all those times if you didn’t enjoy it?”
“I did enjoy it, I did. I just…I wanted to make you happy, baby.” Heeseung kissed her forehead. “Your happiness matters the most to me. I’d do anything for you.”
“And I’d do anything for you,” she said, leaning in to kiss him on the lips. He kissed her vack, cupping her face in his hands.
“Anything for me?”
“Anything, Heeseung.”
“I have an idea.”
He clambered into his room and pulled out his hairbrush. “Just…just use this to get off, okay?” He handed it to her, and she accepted it slowly, turning it over like it was a foreign object.
His girlfriend looked up at him. “Right now?”
Heeseung shook his head. “Not yet. Hold on.” He ran to his room again and found an old handheld camcorder.
She squinted at it. “You’re going to film me?”
“No, it’s dead,” he lied. “See?” He showed her the black screen. “I’m just going to use this to mimic the feeling of….uh, awayness. Like an extra screen between you and I.”
She fiddled with the hairbrush, feeling its smooth wooden end with her thumb. “Well…I mean, I’m not really in the mood right now….”
“You’re always in the mood,” he replied, frustration slowly building in him. “I swear you’re like a dog in heat sometimes.”
His girlfriend’s eyes widened again. “What?”
“You’re always asking to get fucked. You’re like a nymphomaniac, I swear. I bet you go home and hump your pillows right after I turn you out because you just can’t get enough.” Heeseung had seen exactly that from one of his midnight excursions to her place.
“I’m not a nympho-,”
“Oh, yes you are. Whores like to get fucked less than you do. I can only imagine how much you got around before I cuffed you.” He saw her shove one hand down her dolphin shorts. He raised the camera with a smile.
“I’m a whore?” Her face was flushed, and her eyes were squeezed shut.
“You’re a whore who gets off to being called a whore. Good fucking thing you’re with me, or else you would have been taken advantage of already, especially with that slutty body of yours.”
To his growing delight, she had tugged her shorts off and slipped her dainty little panties off. The end of his hairbrush slipped deftly in and out of her glistening folds.
Heeseung stopped talking, as so not too ruin the footage with his voice. He just watched her circle her clit with her manicured fingers, watched her pussy swallow the hairbrush.
“Heeseung,” she moaned, and he scowled, cutting the video short.
“Don’t say my name,” he said. “And keep your eyes shut.” When her eyes fluttered shut, he turned the camera on. He stroked himself in time with the insertion of the hairbrush. Seeing her splayed out on his couch, her head tossed back, his hoodie riding up to expose her soft tummy…it was amazing. And the fact that she didn’t know he was filming her made it all the better. It was forbidden, it was wrong, it was perfect. When she came, she nearly said his name again, but she cut herself off instead. He didn’t let himself cum, but he moaned and pretended like he did too.
Heeseung kissed his girlfriend, licked the sweat off of her face. “Perfect,” he murmured. “So perfect for me.”
“Thank you,” she whispered.
The second she left his house, he sniffed the couch, the exact place where she had sat as they had played video games. Her scent was so strong; he buried his face into the faux leather and inhaled deeply. Heeseung closed his eyes, imagined her masturbating herself all alone in room, and finished all over the couch.
He was going to have so much fun.
The platonic aspects of their relationship stayed the same. They would have simple at-home dates, occasionally going out to restaurants or the movies or anywhere she liked. Heeseung didn’t really care what they did as a couple. He just liked to be around her.
They still had sex, but it had gone from several times a week to once every two weeks. It was still a dreaded task for Heeseung, but it balanced out now that they had incorporated his voyeuristic tendencies into their relationship.
On movie dates, he made sure to get tickets in a theatre with a sparse audience. Then, he would leave his seat, sitting a few rows back, and watch his girlfriend play with herself, fondling her tits and slipping a hand into her jeans. If they went to the beach, Heeseung would take her to a secluded spot, tell her to lie down on a towel, and to strip. She would sunbathe completely nude, rubbing lotion all over herself.
When she would go out with her friends, Heeseung would periodically text her, asking her to unbutton a few of her buttons, or to send him a picture of her panties. He asked her to fuck herself in public bathrooms and to send videos for proof. He would lazily stroke his cock to the grainy footage of her sliding her fingers in and out of her tight pussy. When she told him that men were hitting on her, he would text, “Good job.” Then he would tell her to unbutton another few buttons, or to part her legs as she rode the subway. What he would really like would be for her to walk around dressed in a tiny little crop top that showed the underside of her breasts and shorts that displayed her bare ass, but Heeseung knew he was already asking for a lot.
A few times, he had strapped her to his bed with rope, so that her arms and legs were bound. He had affixed a phone-controlled vibrator between her thighs, and he watched her writhe on his bed with glee. Heeseung watched her have orgasm after orgasm, and if she begged him to stop he would get angry. He would complain that she had ruined it. He would pry her mouth open with his fingers, and she would suck him off to completion. Then he would start the process over again, until her face was flushed, her legs would shake, and he could even glimpse her pussy clenching around nothing. It was fun for him, but eventually he grew tired of watching it. He had tried making it more interesting by binding her fingers in front of her hole so she could tremblingly fuck herself, but the rush of that wore off too. Heeseung needed something more, something that could sate his urges.
So he had asked for something else.
---
“You want me to do what?” They were at a café, and she put down the croissant she had been nibbling.
Heeseung raised his hands. “You don’t have to do it. It was just a suggestion.”
“Heeseung, I know you’re struggling, but…nude karaoke?”
He sighed and looked away from her. “I know, I’m sorry. It’s just…it’s getting hard, you know. I love you, and I feel like I’m not good enough for you. It’s really messing with me, up here…” Heeseung tapped the side of his head. “I feel like a freak.”
Her face softened, and she reached out to hold his hand. “You’re not a freak, my love. You’re just…”
“A perv who wants his girlfriend to get nude in front of strangers.” Heeseung laughed humorlessly. “Yeah, I’m really normal.”
“You’re not a perv, either.” She swallowed. “I mean…this could actually be good for me. It could help me explore my sexuality more.” She squeezed his hand and mustered up a smile. “I think we should try it?”
Heeseung didn’t allow himself to smile. “Yeah? I mean, are you sure?”
“I’m sure,” she said firmly. “I want to do this.”
He leaned across the table and kissed her all over her face. “Thank you, thank you, thank you. You’re the nicest girl ever.”
That night was nude karaoke night at a local var. When they arrived, there were only a five dozen or so attendees, mainly men. They were sitting around a makeshift stage in wooden chairs that had been dragged from the surrounding tables. A woman was there, warbling a song as she swayed her hips. The men seemed bored, and Heeseung started to feel prideful. His girl, who was wearing a loose white dress and had folded her arms tightly around her chest, was so much prettier than that other woman. These men were going to shit themselves when she started to sing.
The woman finished her song, and the applause was scattered. Then his girlfriend slowly walked onto the stage, her heels clacking against the floor. Her hands were scrunched into fists. As she adjusted the mic, one man yelled, “Take your tits out, now!”
Another said, “Don’t look so shy, sweetheart.”
Heeseung was elated.
She introduced the song she was going to sing – Fade Into You by Mazzy Star. Heeseung had heard her sing that one; her voice had always sounded so melancholic, fragile, and sweet. He smiled at her encouragingly.
The intro to the song played, and she pulled her dress off, revealing her stunning body. The men whooped and cheered, hurling vulgarities at her. She tried to sing, clutching the microphone tightly, but the jeering was loud. As Heeseung scanned the small space, he saw that the men around him were either stroking their bulges covertly or outright jerking themselves off.
His girlfriend kept singing with her eyes closed. Heeseung wanted her to open them, so she could see the effect he was having on all of those men. They were all drooling after her, calling her a slut, saying that she must be tight, that they would fuck up whoever got to tap that pussy. Heeseung jerked himself off right there, joining in the orgiastic atmosphere of the cramped little bar. He watched her sing, his heart full.
When she finished, the patrons begged her to keep singing. They tossed money at her, wadded bills. She glanced at Heeseung, who nodded, and so she continued to sing, this time quietly crooning In The Mood For Love.
A man told her to play with her tits while she sang, and she did, running her thumb along her nipples. It was more than Heeseung could handle, and he came halfway through the song.
After her second performance, she hurried off of the stage, collecting some of the money before pulling her dress on. She ran out, which was smart, because the men were starting to clamor for her to do worse acts. Heeseung followed after her, and before he opened his car, he kissed her in the parking lot.
“That was amazing,” he whispered, kissing her again. “So amazing. Your voice is beautiful.”
She scoffed. “My voice?”
Heeseung shrugged playfully. “And, you know, your body. You looked sexy up there. Everyone thought so.”
His girlfriend rested her hands against his chest. “Did you think so?”
“Of course I did,” he said in a placating tone, stroking her hair. “Of course, baby.”
“You’re the only person I care about,” she said quietly.
“Me too.”
She hesitated. “Did you…like what I did? How did that make you feel, me going up there, naked, and…”
Heeseung tilted her chin up with his finger. “I loved it. I fucking loved it. I came in mere minutes. You’re amazing, baby.”
She reached out to hug him, and he wrapped his arms around her. Heeseung held her like she would slip away from him.
--
After that, she became different. Without even asking, she had started to wear tighter, shorter clothes. She used to go out in dresses, worn jeans, or she’d just wear his hoodies. Now, she wore bodycon dresses, miniskirts that practically gave you peeks of her ass, and she had cut her shirts up so that they displayed her midriff. It was amazing.
He liked to parade her around the mall now. The sight of men and women alike ogling his girlfriend made his cock so hard, he would walk with a limp. When he couldn’t handle it anymore, he would take her into the family bathroom, or slip into a change room and fuck her in there. Public sex was marginally better than regular sex with her, because he liked to imagine that men were fantasizing about her. He would close his eyes and imagine her naked, standing like a mannequin in a store, and all of the men who had lasciviously eyed her in the mall being forced to see her but unable to touch. It was a glorious time.
The novelty wore off after a few months, and he lost interest in having sex with her again. She could tell, and he knew that she was getting nervous. She performed at nude karaoke again, but even that did nothing for him.
He knew what he wanted from her.
On their first anniversary as a couple, Heeseung had taken her to brunch at a restaurant she had been eyeing. She wore this little black crop top with a tiny skirt, and her makeup was perfect.
Towards the end of their meal, Heeseung dabbed his mouth with a napkin. “Baby,” he began, staring her in the eyes, “you are my better half. I can’t believe I’ve been able to spend a full year with you. You’re so kind, so sweet, so understanding, and so gorgeous.” He reached out and kissed her hand, and she giggled. “You’re the light of my life. You’re my reason to go on, and you deserve the moon. Unfortunately, all I can offer you is this.” Heeseung pulled a small black box out of his jacket pocket.
With a smile so bright Heeseung swore it could cause flowers to bloom, she opened the box. She gasped when she saw the charm bracelet he had bought her. “Oh, Heeseung,” she said, covering her mouth with her hand. “This is so expensive.”
“You deserve it,” he said softly, taking the bracelet and slipping it onto her wrist. “You deserve the world, baby.”
“I have it right here,” she replied.
They shared a kiss, then Heeseung leaned into her ear. “I was thinking…we could make this anniversary even more special.”
Her lips curled into a mischievous little smile. “How?”
“You said you’d do anything for me, right?”
She pulled away from him slightly, her lips setting into a thin line.
“Right?” he asked firmly, taking hold of her hand.
“Of course,” she said frantically, “anything for you, my love.”
---
The motel that Heeseung had driven them to was shoddy and sleazy. There were people outside smoking on lawn chairs, and dilapidated cars filled the parking lot. The neon sign affixed to the window flashed its name: Ethan’s Motel. Heeseung ushered his girlfriend inside, and he took note of the people populating the motel. Tweakers, men in sweaty wife-beaters.
He wondered which one would give his girlfriend the best fuck.
In the end, he told her to find someone while he set up the rooms. She asked how, and he told her to just be upfront with them. Heeseung had bought two rooms, which stunk of dust and reeked of bodily fluids. He hid a small camera in a flower pot- his girlfriend didn’t know about that – and shoved a nail through the wall to make a small hole, just to cover his ass.
Then he went to the other room to set up his laptop, which showed the feed from the camera. He set that on the small desk directly in front of his bed.
Within ten minutes, his girlfriend was leading a man into the motel room. He looked around their age and had a shaggy mop of hair. He was shorter than Heeseung, so Heeseung figured that his dick was probably smaller, too. But his girlfriend wouldn’t mind that, he was sure- who knows how much random dick she’d bounced on before they dated? Anyways, her hookup looked nice enough, but then again, he was hanging around a place like this.
“What did you say your name was?” she asked, still holding his hand. She sat down on the bed, and the guy followed.
“Jake,” he said. “And yours?”
She told him her name, and he nodded.
“Well, you’re…you’re hot as hell,” Jake said, laughing awkwardly. He scratched the back of his neck. Heeseung was getting really pissed off, but he told himself to be patient.
“You’re not too bad yourself,” she said lowly, tracing a finger down Jake’s chest. Heeseung shivered. “I think you know how to please a woman, right?”
Jake smirked and slowly pushed Heeseung’s girlfriend down until he was hovering above her. “Come find out.”
Heeseung watched Jake make out with his girlfriend. He watched his girlfriend lie, refusing to even touch Jake. It made him frown. She was supposed to be enjoying this. He wanted to see her in the throes of ecstasy, wanted to see her in all of her hedonistic glory.
Finally, she kissed Jake back, and he started taking his clothes off. He seemed as frantic as Heeseung was. She undressed, casting her clothes aside, and Jake was on top of her again.
Jake shifted around so that her ass was above his face as she lied on top of him. He started to lick her pussy, firmly gripping her ass with both of her hands. She started to suck him off, only licking the tip at first before throating Jake’s cock.
Heeseung whimpered, unzipping his jeans and only allowing himself minimal pressure as he palmed himself over his boxers. If he didn’t pace himself, he was going to cum before the fun truly began.
Jake continued to eat Heeseung’s girlfriend out, and Heeseung could hear his moans through the door. His girlfriend was being incredibly quiet, however, which was annoying. She pulled herself off of Jake and sat at the head of the bed. She spread her legs and looked up at Jake with empty eyes. Jake crawled towards her, and from that angle Heeseung could only see his hips moving rapidly and his girlfriend’s legs quivering. Her hands feebly wrapped around Jake and hugged him tightly as she pounded her.
Then Jake laid flat on his back and she got on top of him. The way she arched her back, practically dancing on Jake’s dick, made Heeseung moan. She gripped Jake’s shoulders and took him to the hilt, her eyes closed. Jake was holding her hips and whispering, “Fuck, fuck that’s nice, fuck.” It was annoying that this shmuck didn’t have anything better to say, but Heeseung didn’t really care. He was forcing himself to stroke himself at a snail’s pace, when all he wanted to do was rub his dick raw.
His girlfriend got off of Jake’s cock and went on all fours, so that she was facing the TV of the motel room. In other words, she was facing Heeseung’s camera. It felt like magic, like she knew or something. He couldn’t take it anymore, and Heeseung spit in his hand and started stroking himself directly. Jake kneeled behind Heeseung’s girlfriend and started ramming into her, one hand slapping her ass and the other pulling her hair back.
Heeseung took in the details of her body; the shuddering of her torso, the trembling of her arms as she steadied herself on the bed, the way that her ass pressed against Jake’s groin as he pounded into her, the way her breasts freely shook, the conflicted expression on her perfect little face, the sheen of sweat covering her from her head to her toes. Heeseung had always known that she was beautiful, but now he swore that she was an angel.
Jake panted, “I’m close, fuck, fuck!” so Heeseung rubbed his cock even faster, his other hand squeezing his balls. It was an Olympic feat to suppress his growing orgasm, but he didn’t want to mess this up. Not when his girlfriend was whimpering so prettily, when she was so consumed by her own pleasure, guilt, and embarrassment that she had probably forgotten all about the camera filming it all. Heeseung thought he might die.
With a guttural moan, Jake came in her, weakly thrusting a few more times to drain the last of his cum. Then he let her drop onto the bed, and she collapsed like a rag doll. Heeseung came as well, biting his lip harshly so he wouldn’t moan. He milked his cock with a white-hot fervor, riding out his high for as long as he could. When the aftershock hit him, all he could do was take quick gasps of air. Heeseung licked his lips and tasted blood.
Jake stroked his girlfriend’s hair, kissed her forehead, then whispered something in her ear. The sight of her limp and pliant, barely lifting her head to talk to Jake, was so arousing that Heeseung wished he had it in him to jack off again. This footage would last him for months.
As Heeseung closes his eyes to relive the memory, Jake put his clothes on. He dug around in his jacket, pulled out a few bills, and left them on her back. He left, closing the door with a soft click. Heeseung’s girlfriend remained where she was, as stiff as a corpse. Heeseung didn’t leave his motel room right away, the images in his head too vivid, too lush.
Heeseung walked inside of the motel room, and the smell of sex was intoxicating. “Baby, that was amazing- you, you were amazing.” His grin is stretched maniacally wide, and his steps towards the hidden camera were buoyant. “I came so hard, baby. It was perfect, just perfect.” He removed the camera from the potted plant and tucked it carefully into its bag.
She hadn’t said a word, just resting on her stomach. Her eyes were closed, and her breathing was shaky. Poor thing, Heeseung thought, she hadn’t had a fucking like that since we got together. Poor little angel. He walked over to her and lay next to her on the bed. He kissed her over and over, holding her slick cheeks in her hands. “You’re so perfect,” Heeseung whispered. “Thank you so much, thank you, thank you. You’re amazing, thank you, thank you.”
She opened her eyes, and her apprehensive gaze made Heeseung’s cock stir. “I feel dirty,” she said, voice choked with emotion.
“No, baby,” he said, kissing her nose again. He gently crawls on top of her, circling his arms around her waist. “You’re not dirty. You’re good, so good. You’re the best. There’s nothing wrong with…with exploring. Didn’t it feel good? Didn’t you enjoy it?” His girlfriend hesitated, so he firmly said, “You enjoyed it. Right? I could tell you did.”
She nodded, bucking her head against his chin affectionately. “I did.”
“You did,” Heeseung breathed out. “I knew you would, my sweet girl.” His hand trailed down to his pants zipper, and he pulled his cock out. He gave it a few strokes, but the sight of another man’s cum coating her thighs was all the motivation he needed. “You’re the best,” he cooed, slipping inside of his girlfriend. It was so easy because she had been fucked open by Jake, and she took him so well. The only sound she made when he entered her was a soft little sigh.
Heeseung closed his eyes and thought of her face again, the contortion of her features into that portrait of debauchery. His arms remained tight around her in a stiff embrace, his cheek resting on her head. He thought about how amazing it would be to see another man fuck her again. Maybe two, three, a train of strangers having their turns with his girlfriend, his beautiful, kind girlfriend. Heeseung couldn’t have pulled out of her if he had tried as the fantasies overtake him. He finished inside of her, hot jizz clamoring out of him in spurts, and wiped his tip on one of the bills Jake left on her back. The room felt like it was spinning, and every nerve ending in his body felt alight with fire. “Thank you,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to her neck, “I love you so much.”
Heeseung pushes the money off of her back and carries his girlfriend into the small bathroom. He placed her inside of the cracked bathtub and filled it with warm water. He left her there to get her toiletry bag, and when he came back she was staring at the ceiling. As he scrubbed her body, he pressed kisses to her skin. He washed her like a piece of alabaster pottery, washing her thoroughly. When he dried her off, he noticed that she hadn’t said a single word. “Baby?”
She doesn’t respond.
“Baby?”
“Yeah?”
“I love you.”
“I love you too, Heeseung.”
He carried her to bed and dressed her in her grey robe. He stripped to his boxers and kissed her cheeks before he pulled the covers over them both. He pulled her head onto his chest and stroked her soft, downy hair.
He had never felt so in love.
My man is hot as hell
JOHN PRICE call of duty: modern warfare
MR KOSTOV? HELLO??? I WANT THOSE DOGTAGS!!
Poetry for my eyes.
things simon ‘ghost’ riley would say in bed
⊹ simon 'ghost' riley x afab!reader
[ warnings ] NSFW. MDNI.
cod masterlist
♡ that’s my good fuckin’ girl.
♡ you look s’pretty on your knees.
♡ shh, baby, i know you can take it.
♡ want me to fill you up, yeah?
♡ you’re so fuckin’ tight, princess.
♡ ah, ah, just lay back. i got you.
♡ this what you wanted? wanted my cock buried—fuck—deep inside you?
♡ hey, open your fuckin' eyes. look. at. me.
♡ fuck, baby, grab the headboard. shit—that's right, princess. hold on.
♡ i’m gonna fuck that sweet cunt of yours 'till you're beggin' me t'stop.
♡ been thinkin’ bout this all day, pet. fuckk—you are a goddamn dream.
♡ gonna fill you up good n’ proper.
♡ legs on my shoulders, pet.
♡ i want you to come. right now. i’m not gonna tell you again.
♡ on your fuckin’ knees, princess.
♡ i don't care if your legs are shaking. i'm not done.
♡ you belong to me. say it. tell me you're mine.
♡ is my pretty girl struggling to take my cock? hm? you can take it, baby.
♡ gonna milk me for every fuckin' drop, my greedy fuckin’ girl.
♡ fuckkk, these tits.
♡ you're gonna be the goddamn death o’me.
♡ open your mouth good n’ wide.
♡ is my sweet girl gonna come? gonna come on my cock, yeah?
♡ com’on baby, come on my tongue. i wanna taste ya.
♡ you’re gonna have t’beg for it.
♡ mmm, you can do better than that.
♡ want my fingers inside you? gotta use your words, princess.
♡ already fuckin’ soaked, pet. all f’me?
♡ buck your hips up into me. oh fuck—yeah, jus' like that.
♡ god, you taste so fuckin’ good, baby.
♡ you look so good taking my cock like this.
♡ you can take me deeper than that. i know you can.
♡ this what you wanted, hm? me bendin’ you over and havin’ my way with you?
♡ oh, my greedy girl. cant wait any longer, hm? gonna cry if i don't give it to ya?
♡ that’s right, princess. keep sucking on my—oh fuck—cock. keep goin’. fuck, you feel s’good.
♡ gonna spread those pretty thighs for me?
♡ fuck yeah, dig your nails into my back. harder. fuckkkin' hell.
♡ promise to be quiet?
♡ you like being fucked like this? like a fuckin' whore? hm? but only for me.
♡ swallow. now.
♡ com’ere, baby. come sit on my lap. wanna rub yourself against me?
♡ been waitin’ all day to bury my cock inside you.
♡ play with your clit f’me, princess. i wanna watch you come around your fingers.
♡ i want you t'look at me while i'm deep inside you. i want t'watch your eyes water while i fuck you senseless, yeah?
♡ you’re squeezin’ me so goddamn tight.
♡ this cunt is all fuckin' mine. you hear me, pet? all. mine.
♡ you look so pretty with tears all down your cheeks. that good, hm?
♡ fuckk, princess. bite harder. i can take it.
♡ ah, don't you dare hide from me, pet. open those fuckin' legs. com'on... that's a good girl.
♡ this pussy was fuckin' made f'me. fuckin' hell. you are so goddamn tight.
♡ com'on, princess. i wanna hear ya. don't go shy on me now.
♡ i want you t'come with me. hey, look at me. that's right, love. now—oh shit—come with me. fuckkk—come now.
♡ these sounds all for me, yeah? holy shittt—that's right. you're takin' my cock so well—jesus christ.
m going batshitinsane rn
Good Pup
human!minho x puppy!reader x puppy!seungmin
synopsis: Minho is certain that no matter how much you disagree, your new weredog friend, Kim Seungmin, is not someone he can get along with. However, they have no choice but to team up when your first heat makes its way into the night. Maybe you were right, they do get along, even if it's just a little bit.
7.3k words (damn)
warnings! MDNI 18+, fem!reader, 3some, PIV, no protection, knotting, biting (slight blood), jealousy, bff!minho, coworker!seungmin, double penetration, heat, sex pill, pussy eating, humping (brief), super light mxm themes, minho and seungmin don't like each other
In this world, Minho thinks there are two types of people. And no, it doesn’t have anything to do with what kind of job you work or what your passion is. It doesn’t even matter if you’re a hybrid; the ones mixed with all sorts of animals with human DNA. No, none of those matter to him. People, fully human or not, all boil down to one thing.
Cats or dogs.
See, Minho likes to think of himself as a cat person. Someone who prefers to have leisure in their own time. Someone who doesn’t need constant stimulation from people or conversations. He’s content with being alone, satisfied even. Maybe Minho doesn’t have a furry tail or pointed ears that flick at the slightest sound unlike the werecats he sees daily, but his human identity doesn't stop him from thinking of himself - or anyone for that fact - as either cat or dog.
Despite living a rather secluded life, Minho doesn’t mind the few friends he keeps close, both human and feline. He does, however, mind dogs like any cat would. They’re too noisy, too needy, and too happy for no god-damn reason. Being surrounded by so much energy drains him quickly, and although Minho likes to think of himself as a lover of all animals, dogs are just… difficult. So you being one of his closest friends is such a mystery to him.
It doesn't matter how many times you’ve seen Minho. Your tail always swishes when you see him approaching, even now through the crowd of people. It wacks the nearby pedestrians walking and you embarrassingly apologize, grabbing your shaggy tail to try and prevent it from moving. And no matter how many times Minho sees you get so giddy just by looking at him, he smiles.
Just a little bit.
“You’re gonna kill someone with that thing,” he says once he’s close enough. You roll your eyes at him, the complete opposite of the thumping of your tail in your grasp. “Oh shut up. You made me wait in this heat. I should kill you for that.”
“In front of all these witnesses? You’d make a terrible hitman.” Minho can tell you’re irritated even with your happy tail. Your floppy ears are down, sweat beads on your forehead, and trickles down the sides of your face. The nails on your fingers are darker and sharper than usual. He recalls you complaining about the heat, but the forecast showed cloudy skies. Minho would hardly call it a hot day, not even a warm one.
Something’s up.
But like any cat person, he doesn’t say anything about his observations. “I say we get out of the sun and into the convenience store before you start plotting my murder. I’ll pay.” It’s his way of trying to make you feel better with whatever you’re stressed about. It seems to work by your nodding. Your tail is relaxed enough for you to set it down, using the back of your hand to wipe the perspiration that drips down to your neck. “That sounds good. And you don’t have to worry about tonight. The company’s paying for the dinner and drinks.” That familiar wolfish smile finds your lips, pulling back enough to show pointy canines.
Minho is always captivated by your mouth. The way it can twist so inhumanely from the plumpness of your lips to the sharpness of your teeth. His eyes lower just for a split second before he says, “Even for me? A plus one?”
“I’ll make sure,” you say with certainty. “They’ve been working me like a dog, no pun intended, and this is their way of making up to everyone busting their ass to make deadlines. If I don’t get my Scooby-snack, I will actually kill someone.”
That sputters a laugh from him. Minho takes his place beside you to begin your journey to the market while giggles keep spilling. “If you’re Scooby, does that make me Shaggy?” There’s still a smile on his face even when you shake your head, following his steps. “Nah. You’re more like Scrappy-Doo.”
-
Okay, there is something definitely wrong with you. Minho is well aware that weredogs enjoy being in close proximity. There have been multiple occasions of your tail tickling his arm, of your skin brushing against his while you walk. Hell, he’s even indulged in kinship by patting your head and letting his fingers caress your ears. It usually doesn’t take much for you to be satisfied with those simple touches, but today you seem…needy.
And it’s not just Minho who notices. Customers, humans and were-creatures alike, see how much you cling to him. The tail that was happily dancing half an hour ago now wraps around his torso. He can feel it against his back and he finds himself enjoying this strange hug.
Minho would usually say something. Maybe tease you and tell you to keep your tail to yourself, but something tells him that isn't the best idea right now.
You’re hardly talking. The yapping puppy he’s so familiar with is nowhere to be seen even though you're right next to him. Standing so close that he can feel your body heat that he swears is hotter than usual.
Maybe he should enjoy the peace and quiet that he rarely gets with you, but Minho is itching for his pup.
“You okay?”
There, he said it. Minho is so used to you talking without being asked to the point that he covers his ears just to drown out your words. You would whine, ears pulling down while tugging at his arms. “Listen to meee!”
But instead he has to coax it out of you this time. You pull your attention away from the snacks to look at him. “Huh? Yeah no, I’m good. I have been feeling out of it recently but I think it’s just my job. Sorry, am I being boring?”
Reassurance. One of the most common needs for a weredog. To hear that they’re needed with some praise. To put it in simple terms, you want to hear that you’re being a good girl. At this point, Minho is willing to do and say anything to get you back to normal.
“Boring? I never said that. Hanging out with you is the highlight of my week…even if your furry friend keeps smacking my back.” And just like that, your eyes shine with both happiness and embarrassment. You take back control of your tail and scold it, “Stop annoying my friend.” You swat at it gently and push it back down behind you.
Minho doesn’t even notice his hand reaching out to pet you before he can stop it. His soft palm makes contact with your hair, ruffling it before moving to your ears.
People nearby stare but Minho hardly cares. There’s something about bystanders knowing the reason for your soft rumbling and gleeful expression is because of him. Weird want, but Minho’s heard that weredogs just have that type of effect on people. Plus, Minho’s your friend. Friends are always there to help each other out and Minho just happens to be your best.
It doesn’t take much after that to get you back to your talkative self.
“Like, I just feel bad, ya know?” You say, reaching for a meaty sandwich in the deli section of the convenience store. “No one talks to him at work and he’s always alone at lunch. Like, yeah he has a scary face and doesn’t talk to anyone, but that doesn’t mean he’s a bad person.” A triple meat sandwich catches your attention and Minho watches your curved nails reach for the packaging.
Minho inspects the drinks. “Maybe he has that scary face and doesn’t talk to anybody because he doesn’t want to talk to anybody.”
You roll your eyes, adding your find to the small basket looped around Minho’s arm. “Yeah, and I could say the same thing about you.” You poke his broad chest with a nail. The pain is hardly there, but Minho fakes a wounded expression and grabs his pec dramatically. “I'm bleeding!”
“Oh shut up. You’re just trying to change the subject because you know I’m right.”
“Right about what?” Minho ditches his act. “About the fact that I don’t like talking to anybody? Good job, Sherlock.” The good job makes your tail sway just slightly and Minho smiles when he sees it.
“Oh? Then what are you doing right now with me?” You cross your arms and stare at him.
“Replying.”
“Which is…”
“Communicating.”
“And another word for that is…”
“...Moving my mouth.”
“You’re impossible.” you laugh. “Anywho, he just reminds me of how it was when we first met. You being brooding, quiet and me being awesome, of course.” The two of you venture further down the aisle. “What is it that you once told me? Something about people being dogs and cats?”
“Dogs or cats,” he corrects. “What about it?” Minho abruptly stops his steps when he sees jelly. Despite being human, you can practically see his pupils grow wide at the sight of them.
“So based on the description I gave you, which do you think he is?”
Minho doesn’t answer immediately, can’t when his favorite dessert is quite literally on display. So many choices, so many flavors. He should buy one of each for taste testing. A couple of seconds go by before he registers your question. “Oh. Um, you said he’s like me?”
You nod, “Mhm.”
“Then cat, obviously.” Minho chooses a coffee and vanilla flavor. He imagines you’ll prefer the coffee one. When he turns to face you, he’s surprised to see that you’re smiling, as if already knowing he was going to say that.
“But get this,” you hop on one leg to the other in weredog behavior. “He’s a were-dog! Like me! I don’t know what breed but I’ve never met a fellow pup so…cat. You might like him.”
Minho scoffs at your playful wink, “Don’t try setting me up on playdates. I’m fine with the friends I have now.”
You whine, a high-pitched noise coming from the back of your throat. It used to startle Minho, but now he’s grown accustomed to ignoring your complaints until you’re both at the counter emptying the basket.
The cashier is a young werefox. He has slender eyes that stick out, enhancing his hard jaw and smooth skin. As if tired of the day, the said fox scans the items lazily, saying a standard, "Is that gonna be all?” before shoving the goodies in a black bag.
“Well, whatever,” you smooth your puppy ears. “He’s gonna be at the dinner tonight, so you’re meeting him regardless.”
For some reason, the fox suddenly looks interested. He picks his head up and looks between Minho and you. He sniffs and jolts. Minho narrows his eyes, subtly tucking his head to his armpit and smelling. Does he stink? Minho’s thinking about changing his body wash when the cashier sniffs again, but his eyes lock on you instead.
In all werefox manner, the cashier shifts his gaze to Minho and gives a sly smile. “These are on the house.” He snatches a package so quickly off the counter that Minho can’t tell what it is as the cashier shoves it inside the bag. The fox slides the purchases to Minho, looking at you once more before winking, “Have fun tonight.”
Minho is quick to get you both out of there. Your ears are up straight, tail hanging loose between your legs while looking back. Since your tail isn’t tucked between your legs or abnormally stiff, Minho thinks he shouldn’t be too worried. But the encounter was strange, no matter how brief.
“Did you know that guy?” You say once you’re waiting for Minho to unlock his car.
He shakes his head, “Nah. Let’s just go.”
You don’t argue with that. Your ears flick at the sound of the door unlocking and you quickly find your seat inside the warm car. The image of the cashier crosses your mind and you look at Minho. “What’d he put in the bag?”
But Minho had already tossed the said bag in the backseat. He shrugs, “Don’t know. I’ll check it out when I get home.”
Short sentences, indirect messages to tell you to drop it. Minho is in his cat mood as he ignites the car to life and puts it in reserve. Normally, you’d crack a joke. Saying something to lighten the mood or change the subject, but you’re starting to feel hot all over again. Minho had just put the A/C on, but the warmth of the car has you heating up even more. You feel nauseous and Minho’s human scent plays no aid. Sometimes you get car sick and you’re assuming it’s one of those times. You close your eyes and breathe, telling yourself that you’ll feel better once you get home and take some medication.
It doesn’t matter how sick you are, you have a company dinner tonight that your best friend is attending and you’ll be damned if you missed just because of a little bug.
-
Minho is absolutely not taking his eyes off you tonight and no it’s not because of how good you look. Sure, maybe your button-up shirt stretches at the top because of how tight it is against your chest and yeah, maybe the black pencil skirt does wonders for your ass but those are not any of the reasons why Minho is watching you like a hawk. No, he’s stuck watching how you’re trying your best to pretend like you aren’t on the verge of turning into a puddle of sweat.
Even the other were-dog you mentioned earlier, Kim Seungmin, notices your strange behavior. Minho sees that his ears are up and that his tail swishes unsure. Still, none of that matters from how giddily you seem chatting it up with him. Something about managing to meet deadlines and confusion about the new code in the system, but it’s all white noise to Minho.
You’re close to Seungmin - a little too close. Minho tells himself over and over that weredogs have an instinct to want to be close, but that doesn’t mean he has to be happy with it.
It looks like your tails are dancing together as they swish, though yours is more erratic. Seungmin’s eyes travel everywhere and Minho is so close to leaning over you just to push him away.
“And the new code we have to use?” You groan. “I absolutely hate it.”
“You?” Seungmin challenges. “Hating something? I don’t believe it.”
Minho watches you scoff, watches the color of your face flush. It’s from your fever, he thinks. He hopes.
Why on Earth would you think he would be able to get along with someone like Seungmin? He was far too quiet when you happily introduced Minho - you’re best friend may he remind you - and didn’t so much as ask what type of job he works. Seungmin may be a cat, but Minho is starting to think he’s beginning to prefer dogs.
The male weredog leans closer to you and Minho straightens. He can hear how deep he inhales before Seungmin turns his head to the side, one ear flopping over. “Are you wearing a new perfume? It smells nice.”
“Oh, thank you.” You turn to your side, finally looking at Minho and smiling at him. His heart squeezes at the sight, how your eyes shine just looking at him. “Minho got it for me a while ago, but I only wear it on special occasions.”
The smirk on Seungmin’s face vanishes once he makes eye contact with Minho. And just like that, the moody expression Minho once wore turns smug. There’s a brief moment between the two men that you don’t see. A dirty look, a sneer, a smirk. It’s such a short interaction that speaks volumes.
Seungmin may be a dog on the outside, but that deadly look screams cat.
“God, why is it so hot in here?” You fan yourself with a hand, looking between your two friends. “I feel like I’m turning into a swamp.”
Minho glances at other people nearby. Your co-workers are drinking, eating, and talking about anything but how hot it is. Your fever must be getting out of hand and Minho is planning on asking you if you two should leave before Seungmin says, “When did your fever start?”
“Um,” you rub your hands together in an attempt to get yourself to stop feeling so antsy. Minho places a friendly hand on your knee. Nothing he’s never done before to soothe you, but you react as if he’s burned you. It feels like his hand sends shivers throughout your body and you can’t help but jolt. A soft whine leaves your lips, and poor Minho who can’t seem to notice that your distress is from his touch, decides to rub his thumb onto your skin.
What feels like buckets of arousal seep your underwear. You get the sudden urge to hump, a stupid weredog antic that you can never seem to get rid of. Your legs tense and you almost close them in an attempt to get some friction with Minho’s hand before you remember that Seungmin asked you a question.
“M-maybe a week ago or something? I think I just ate something bad.” But when you look at Seungmin for his response, he isn’t even facing you. His focus is on your lower half, watching with a predatory look in his eyes as Minho gently strokes his thumb on your thigh. Maybe you should feel weird that your co-worker is looking at you in such a way, but it strangely adds to the sensation Minho’s providing.
Seungmin inhales and groans, too quiet for the chatter of your company to notice but enough for you to accidentally snap your legs closed with Minho’s hand captive.
Then finally, Seungmin looks up between you and Minho and nods to the front door.
“Meet me outside.”
He doesn’t wait for a response before he grabs his jacket and leaves. A few coworkers complain and question him, but he silences them with a mere glare and a respectful, apologetic bow to his boss.
You and Minho look amongst each other and he carefully slides his hand out from the crease of your thighs. The two of you miss the warmth from the touch, but Minho is a little more concerned with how you’ve started to paw and grasp at his hand to get it back on you.
There was such a sense of urgency in Seungmin’s voice. As much as Minho was irritated with how he was looking at you, there was genuine worry there. It would be easy for you two to ditch Seungmin and leave on your own, but something tells him there’s more than just a stomach bug going on.
Minho takes his hand in yours, interlocking your fingers. He nearly hisses at how hot your skin is, but you only howl with satisfaction.
He stands, taking you with him, but your boss is quick to stop you from leaving. “Hey! Now where are you two going?” Shit, of course it wouldn’t be as easy to leave.
“I think she’s had too much to drink, sir.” A lie. You haven’t touched a single drink, but no one here is sober enough to know that. “It would be better to have her sleep it off so she can make it to work tomorrow.”
Minho hopes his excuse is enough and from the belly laugh that your boss gives, he thinks it is.
“I like the way you think! Make sure you take care of her. We’ve got a big project coming up and I need my best workers.”
A thank you, a quick bow, and Minho is quick to grab your things and lead you outside. To his luck, you play the drunk girl perfectly. Your full weight is on his shoulder that you’re leaning on, breathing into his neck and trying to nip his skin.Your tail is so out of control that you whack him and you as Minho walks to Seungmin.
No, this isn’t a fever.
And Seungmin is quick to confirm that the moment he sees how much you’re clinging onto Minho. He covers his mouth and nose with his hand. “Fuck. Your heat's getting bad. Why the fuck did you come in the condition?”
“I-I…no! Seung, I’m not. I can’t.” That seems to snap you out of your trance enough to answer him, but not enough to separate yourself from Minho.
“Heat?” Minho looks at you questioningly. Didn’t you tell me the doctors said you that your animal DNA is too small for heat periods?” Which he believed without question. Minho has known you for years and you’ve never had a heat in that time. Not so much as a story to tell or any suppressors he’s seen.
You look like you’re about to cry even with the hazy look in your eye. “They did! It’s way too late for me to experience my first heat. I’m just sick.”
Seungmin scoffs. “Sick? I don’t think so. Listen, the point is, you need to leave. I don’t mean to sound like a dick, but you’re going to attract were-males with your pheromones.” He looks around protectively and then back at you, putting his hand down. “Okay, I don’t mean to come off weird, but do you think you can…handle it on your own?”
There’s a silence between the three of you. Minho blinks rapidly. Did he hear that right? Is Seungmin, this man he just met tonight, really asking to hook up with you? In front of him? Your best friend?
He must have a death wish. “What the fuck are you saying, man?”
Seungmin averts his gaze to the other male. “Was I talking to you?”
“Seungmin!” You scold.
“Nah, you don’t get it, human. She’s in heat. You’re not going to be able to properly calm her down, or worse, she’s gonna go into a frenzy because you can’t.”
This is exactly why Minho can’t stand weredogs. They’re too obsessed with something that’s not even theirs. “And you think just ‘cuz you’re a dog you can? You don’t know me and you don’t know her. Get your snout out of our business.” Minho pulls you closer. “We’re leaving, let’s go.”
He only manages to get a few steps away before Seungmin spins him around. Being so close to him, Minho realizes he’s taller, but not by much. The ears add the illusion of extra height. It’s the piercing gaze, however, that makes Minho feel small. “Tell me, Minho, have you ever been with a were-female?”
“That’s none of your business. Fuck off.”
“I’ll go ahead and give you the benefit of the doubt and say sure, maybe you have once or twice. But have you ever been with one during their heat? During their first heat? Do you know what a weredog even does in heat? What they need? For fuck's sake, your stupid nose can’t even tell the difference from last week to this week.”
Seungmin takes a step closer until his chest is almost touching Minho’s. So close that you can smell how your heat is affecting him.
“I’m not doing this for a quick fuck and I’m sure as hell not doing it for you. Despite what your little human brain might think, I care. I care enough to make sure that she’ll go home safely and get properly taken care of. I’m not thinking of myself, unlike someone.”
It feels like a slap on the cheek. Minho’s jaw is so clenched that his teeth begin to ache. He wants to tell Seungmin that he doesn’t know what he’s talking about, that he’s wrong - but shit, is he really? Minho isn’t well-versed in weredogs outside of friendships and the hookups he had were all feline or human. It hurts to admit, but he doesn’t know. Minho doesn’t even know what to do with you still clinging onto him and dipping your hands up his shirt to feel his skin.
Fuuuck this.
Minho lets out a deep sigh, almost as if it hurts him to say, “You're not getting in my car. Just follow behind.”
And follow Seungmin does. On the road driving far too fast the speed limit, on the sidewalk leading up to Minho’s house, to the front door that you wobble to, up the stairs that inevitably lead to Minho’s room that you barge into.
The bed is the first thing you go to. Neither of the men have a chance to lay down any ground rules before you bury yourself between the sheets. Minho stares as you inhale his blanket, grabbing his pillow and biting down on it with your canines. It only takes a second before you roll onto your stomach and grind on it, effectively humping his favorite pillow.
No, he isn’t staring anymore, he’s gawking. Minho nearly flinches at the amount of drool his poor pillow has to endure.
“Are you just gonna stand there or what?” Seungmin rasps out. The voice breaks Minho’s attention, and although he knows the weredog beside him is male, he still jumps at the sight.
Seungmin is full of want. His ears are up straight, his tail swishes as if he’s watching a prey, his teeth are bared with a hint of saliva pooling at the corners of his mouth, and if Minho looks down, he could see the outline of a bulging-
“Mmm sorry,” you whine. “Smells so good. Min’ smells so good.” Your hips press up and down deeply, getting that nice friction on your clothed cunt. It looks cute, strangely, to see how desperate you are for a release. Minho would have liked to enjoy the scene longer if it wasn’t for Seungmin losing his patience. It takes a mere three strides for Seungmin’s long legs to reach you, his eyes pupils blown wide.
Within a second, Minho is beside him.
“Don’t get any-”
“Praise her,” Seungmin chokes out. “Pet her, touch her, fuck! Just do something. I’m going crazy.” He forces himself to back away from you, opting to pace around Minho’s room, trying to look for anything to distract himself from the rut he’s about to go in. Seungmin reaches for the bottom of his shirt and begins to hastily undress. He doesn’t even spare a glance at the human when he says, “Get her undressed. Weredogs need skin contact during their heat.”
Easier said than done. You’re clawing Minho’s skin affectionately and reaching for his belt. He feels like he’s wrestling you if he ignores his boner. He manages to unbutton your top, shaky hands reaching back to unclasp your bra but you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him close. Your legs wrap around his torso and bring him in, his cock to your cunt through the many layers of clothes.
“No, takes too long. Just put it in me. I’m so wet already.”
Your voice is a whisper in his ear. Minho realizes it’s because you don’t want Seungmin to hear. To sweeten the deal, you grind on his crotch. Minho’s knees are fully on the bed, giving you a much better angle to hump him instead.
You let out the smallest whine. The tiniest sound of pleasure from something other than masturbating, but Seungmin hears it. He whips his head quickly and rushes to you two with a small package in his hand.
Minho’s able to make it out when he gets closer. It’s from when you and him went to the convenience store earlier. When the fox cashier shot his sly smile and said, These are on the house. Have fun tonight.
“I don’t even want to know where you got these pills,” Seungmin tosses the package to Minho. “Take it now. It should have an effect within 5 minutes.”
Knot Cock! The package reads. INSTRUCTIONS: take 5-10 minutes prior to intercourse with weredog. Do not mix with other genitalia-morphing pills. drowsiness and mild pain are-
“Jesus fuck,” Seungmin moans. “Your pussy smells so good.”
Minho rips the package open and discards the warnings. He can read it later. Right now, he’s focused on dry swallowing the pill, finally removing his clothes, and helping Seungmin take off your skirt.
Strings of arousal stick to your underwear as the material goes down your legs. You whine at the cold air, but Seungmin is quick to reassure you. “Good. Good. You’re doing such a good job. I’m almost done, baby.”
A scowl appears on Minho’s expression when he glances at Seungmin. It’s hard to just look at his face when the two men are naked. It’s far too easy to notice the flush in Seungmin’s chest and cock. How different, yet similar, it looks to his own.
They’re doing this together, why is he taking all the credit? He’s not even supposed to be here, he’s just helping. “I got you,” Minho emphasizes. He places his hand on your bare thighs and gently spreads them apart.
In all its glory, your cunt shines with arousal. For a brief moment, the men stare. There’s no arguing with your pussy doing all the talking, wetness seeping through your folds as if it’s crying. It’s only seconds they take time drooling over you, but too many seconds too long. You impatiently reach your hand down and spread your lower lips, using your other hand to rub your fluttering hole.
“Please, pleaseplease-”
Seungmin moves first, much to Minho’s displeasure. A growl emits from his chest as Seungmin peels your hands away from your cunt. Saliva drips down his chin - down his neck. Minho thinks he might eat you, but Seungmin opts to devour your cunt.
The sound that leaves you is more of a howl than a moan. A noise of appreciation and pleasure at every swipe of his tongue. Seungmin’s throat vibrates with his grunts, it bobs with every gulp. You thread one hand into his hair and the other entwines with Minho’s fingers. Minho can’t tell if he’s squeezing your hand or if you're squeezing his, but it doesn’t matter. Not when a foreign haze begins to take hold of his senses, a pressure in his cock he’s never felt before.
Minho tears his gaze from Seungmin eating you out to see his cock enlarged. He’s never seen it so big and red. He’s especially never had a ring at the base, a near-identical state of Seungmin’s. The shock almost distracts him from the urge he’s getting - the urge to push Seungmin aside, to have you close to him in every and any way possible.
Crap, the pill is working a lot better than Minho would have guessed.
To try and fight the effects, Minho leans down to get a taste of your cunt. The scent of you grows stronger, but Minho isn’t able to get his lick in when Seungmin pulls away to growl at him. Much to Minho’s horror, he growls back. The men bare their teeth, a clear sign of intimidation and Minho doesn’t back away from even with Seungmin’s sharp canines.
You, however, notice the clash of pheromones. You hear the snarls loud enough to pick your head up and focus your dilated pupils. Roughly, you move your hands to grip the back of their heads and force them into your cunt. They bonk their foreheads slightly, a soft whine coming from Seungmin and a final snarl from Minho before they succumb to your taste.
They can’t notice how their tongues mix and clash, or maybe they do, but sucking on your clit outweighs the fact. You can’t find yourself to care when their tongues move as if they’re fighting. One muscle pushes the other out of the way just for it to do it back. It’s almost cute if it was in any other situation, but you still smile and moan when one tongue flicks your clit.
Without needing to speak to each other, the men silently agree to move together to hear you again. Starting towards the bottom of your clit, Minho and Seungmin glide up. You tremble and squeal when the tips of their tongue continuously flick at your bud, but they graciously dip back down. Looking at how they suck your clit only amplifies the feeling of pleasure, but you can’t look away. It’s a hypnotic sight, watching their tongues lap up and down, watching the saliva spread to your thighs and pelvis from how much they lick.
You could cum just like this, looking into their eyes with your cunt in their mouth, but you don’t want to finish like that. Your heat makes it so that it feels painful to be empty no matter how their tongues tease your entrance. The only thing you need to be satisfied is to be full. So full of cum that it leaks for weeks after. To be stuffed and properly bred into with any male. They may have fought in the beginning, but you’re beyond elated for your first heat to be with them.
It’s far too hard to use words, not when you're panting and moaning with every lick, but you manage to get out small, nonono’s that make Seungmin’s ears perk up. Minho takes the opportunity to fully be on your cunt, sucking and dragging his tongue while Seungmin paws up to you.
He doesn’t have to ask, his eyes say it all with the worry and arousal in them.
“Fuck me.” Gosh, you’ve never been so direct before. “No more licking just please. It hurts.” You place a hand on your stomach, emphasizing the emptiness. “Wanna be full.”
Minho swears when Seungmin rips his head from your cunt. He;’s forced off with Seungmin’s fingers in his hair. Minho might have snarled again, but he heard your begging. Heard how the two of them eating you out did little to help your heat. It was only a matter of time before either of them was inside you, but the real question is who. Maybe Minho would have been more open, thinking more logically, about letting Seungmin go first, but the drug in his system makes it so the most important thing is having you to himself.
The look Minho gives Seungmin is deadly. “I’m going first.”
Seungmin doesn’t so much as acknowledge his words - can’t when he’s already stroking his cock and balancing himself on his knees. Minho hates how he succumbs to the drug, shoving Seungmin so hard that he nearly falls off the bed. “I said -” But Seungmin doesn’t let Minho finish, interrupting the older male with a just-as-hard push.
“Stop,” you all but whisper. They look at you and the expression on your face makes them obey, save for the teeth. “I…I want both. Can’t I have both?”
Is that even possible? Minho can only imagine how difficult it would be to take two cocks, let alone knots that will surely have your pussy expanding. It seems like Seungmin is thinking the same thing based on his confused expression, but his rut makes him just as clueless as Minho.
The men look at each other, eyes clear for the first time in a while. No words are needed to come to a silent agreement. Minho tucks himself between you and the bed, flipping you the other way until you’re chest-to-chest with your best friend. Seungmin stays on his knees on the bed, his cock pointed at your entrance. It takes a bit more adjusting before you’re nicely sandwiched between the two and you wouldn’t have it any other way. Their scent covers you perfectly with their skin on every inch of yours.
You’ve never gotten the experience to nest, but you assume it feels something like this.
Minho’s erection sits between your thighs, hot and heavy. You should feel weird, gross even, having your closest friend getting ready to fuck you. That feeling never happens. Not even as you lift your hips for Minho to grab his cock and angle it towards your cunt.
“Tell me-” He moans when you slide your cunt against his tip. “T-tell me if it hurts.”
You would have laughed if you could. Feeling genuine pain seems impossible in your state, but you nod anyway.
Minho doesn’t waste time rubbing his dick on your cunt. His cock is throbbing so painfully that the only relief is sinking into you.
Inch by inch, he enters. The tip flares more than it normally would, not that you would know, and the stretch has you whining into his chest. His scent calms you and you suck on his skin to further soothe yourself. Minho isn’t going as slow as he wants to. He’s trying to open you up gently, but your cunt is so warm, so soft, that he can’t help himself from fucking into you until his artificial knot prevents him from going deeper.
Veins bulge from Minho’s neck. He’s never had sex like this - he’s never had such an urge to claim, to breed. His cock is unbelievably sensitive and your pussy feels like heaven. He groans, hands going to your ass to squeeze the pulp flesh.
It’s then that he feels a different set of hands that he’s reminded of the actual male were-dog. “I’m in. You can-”
Seungmin, who’s been patiently sitting, pushes into you without any further instruction. The intrusion makes you yip from surprise. Minho’s ears pick up on the sound and a sense of inhumane protection overcomes him. He thinks you’re in pain from the small howl, but you moan almost immediately after. Seungmin thrusts into you much quicker, much faster than Minho had initially.
“Finally.” It sounds guttural from Seungmin’s throat. “Been waiting forever.”
Unlike Minho, who at least tries to savor the feeling of your walls wrapped around his cock, Seungmin ruts into you. The force of his thrusts makes you rock against Minho’s length. You let out little squeals and whimpers with every move right into Minho’s ear. If he wanted, Minho could finish just like this. With Seungmin’s cock rubbing against his own and your pussy moving just enough for some friction.
But Minho doesn’t want to just cum.
He wants to carve himself in you. To make his mark in the deepest part of you. Minho places his feet flat on the bed to properly thrust. It only takes one time to have you biting down his chest, your sharp teeth digging painfully into his skin.
“Fuck!” Minho’s flesh tastes of salt and desire. “Fuuuuck…”
Seungmin puts his hands on your lower back, causing you to arch at just the right angle for their tips to kiss your cervix. They buck up into you with different tempos, one going in while the other goes out. It’s an endless feeling of being filled. You swear you can feel them touching the back of your throat with how deep they are.
Distantly, you can feel the wetness of Seungmin’s drool dripping onto your ass. Pulling your teeth from Minho’s chest, you turn back to see just as you thought. Seungmin’s eyes are blown wide, tail stiff and pointed upwards with his flat tongue hanging out. He probably doesn’t even notice the mess he’s making on your back with his eyes locked where you three connect.
Minho groans at the welt from the wound you’ve left, but the pain is quickly forgotten at your tightening walls. He's astonished, truthfully, at how much your cunt can open. How eager it is to be pumped and used until it’s satisfied. Words can’t seem to leave him though, he can’t tell you how much he loves feeling your cunt and Seungmin’s cock working together.
No, instead, the noises he’s making are eerily similar to Seungmin. To try and quiet himself, Minho buries his face into your neck. He licks and sucks the skin there, gripping your ass harder as he manages to finally match his pace with the were-dog.
With your scent (and with the help of the pill) he understands why you bit him. What better way to claim you than both on the inside and outside? His teeth graze the sensitive part of your neck. You whine, lifting your neck higher to allow Minho better access. It’s not as easy to do with your body jolting from their thrusts, but Seungmin is quick to help.
He uses a hand to grip your hair, lifting you so high that your chest completely lifts from Minho’s. You whimper at the sudden movement, but the men are quick to kiss each side of your throat in apology. The new angle has you gushing overwhelmingly. Minho might have to buy a new mattress entirely.
“Feel that?” Seungmin glances at Minho. “Feel that pussy clenching?”
Minho can’t find the will to pull his lips away from you, so he looks back at Seungmin in acknowledgment.
“That’s her telling us to cum in it. Ready to be bred like a good pup, huh?” He shakes his fist with your hair in his hand.
You let him wiggle your head, nodding along with the movements. Seungmin grunts with approval and keeps your neck bare to them. Their movements grow sloppy, suddenly unable to keep a solid rhythm with their cocks pushing deeper and deeper until you know it’s only a matter of time before their knots fill you. You feel your saliva drip down your chin and Minho is gracious enough to kiss the drool away.
Seungmin’s claws dig into your back and scalp and Minho’s blunt nails squeeze the flesh of your ass. They snarl, though this time, it’s far from how it was before.
“Shit. How are you still so tight with two cocks in you?” Minho grunts out. His teeth nip your throat and Seungmin mimics on the other side. “So close, pup.” Seungmin sucks harshly on your bruising flesh. “Gonna take our knots so good.”
“So good,” you confirm. “Give it to me. Min’... Seung’. I need it.”
It’s in unison that they bite you. Minho’s dull teeth hurt compared to Seungmin’s pointed canines, but the stinging on your neck is nothing compared to the stretch between your legs when they force their knots in. You nearly scream from the intrusion, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you finally, finally cum with every cell in your body.
Your cunt expands with the spurts of cum from their cocks. It’s impossible for anything to drip out of your cunt, their dicks are perfectly made to ensure your pussy swallows everything. Their growls are loud in your ears, possessive and satisfied with their knot being buried in you. Minho is first to pull his teeth away from you, licking the mark better until he moves to a different spot to suck. Seungmin, on the other hand, opts to bite harder, ensuring his teeth will leave marks you’ll have to cover up. It’s not until he tastes the familiar metallic tang that he pulls away and pacifies the sting with his lips.
Seungmin releases his grip and you collapse on Minho’s chest. The men give shallow thrusts to further guarantee that you’re stuffed before you whine and twitch. Their hands soothe your body to coax you further into relaxation.
Minutes pass by before Minho thinks he’s ready to move. He tries to pull his cock out, but he’s met with resistance as if his dick and your pussy are actually molded together…with Seungmin’s, unfortunately.
You bark out a cry from pain - not the good kind - and Seungmin growls with annoyance.
“What the fuck?” Minho looks bewildered. His confused eyes find Seungmin’s. “Why can’t I move?” You’d laugh if you weren’t so fucked out, or if the throbbing between your legs was bearable. Seungmin clicks his tongue and laughs colorlessly. “Cuz we’re knotted, pretty boy. You’re gonna be stuck with me for a while. Literally.”
I love you. It's ruining my life. (Part II)
pairing: Benjicot Blackwood x Bracken!fem!reader (no descriptions of reader except that she wears dresses and has long hair)
warnings: 18+, smut, cannon typical violence, cursing
summary: You and Benjicot Blackwood return to the woods where your story began. Things get heated.
word count: 3.6k
author note: Thanks so much to everyone for your kind words about this little story. This is my first time posting fanfiction, and I am overwhelmed by the response. And in case anyone is curious, I pretty much listened exclusively to Taylor Swift’s “Guilty as Sin?” while writing this. Love you babes. Happy reading!
part I can be found here
A madness plagued you, of that there could be no doubt.
Days had passed since the boundary stone incident. But you could barely bring yourself to leave the confines of your chambers. You did not want to see anyone. Not your father. Not your fellow ladies or maids. And certainly not Aeron.
You only wanted to see Benjicot. Lay eyes on him and hold him and confirm that you were not alone with these feelings.
In your heart, you knew that he must feel something. No Blackwood would withdraw from a challenge with a Bracken as quickly as he did after your plea without feeling anything. But your mind played tricks on you, turning over every interaction, every look, every word between the two of you.No promises had been made. No tender feelings shared.
What if you had imagined it all? That thought alone kept you awake at night, tossing and turning with no relief.
And gods, did you crave relief from this sweet torture.
You felt trapped beneath your own skin, aching and longing for something that you could not fully name. But even though you did not know the full language of lovers, did not know exactly what happened between a couple when they lied together, you knew enough. Knew that pleasure could be found between your thighs with a twirl of your fingers. Knew it was a sin, but could not bring yourself to care.
You could not get the look of Benjicot’s enraged face out of your mind. Flushed cheeks, wide eyes, snarling mouth. Even the cuts, bruises, and blood on his hands called to some primal part of you. The way he defended you, fought for you. He was a force, and the thought of having all that frenzied energy focused on you was enough to send you over the edge.
You touched yourself to images of Benjicot that flashed through your mind. His face hovering over you. His arms encircling your body. His hands touching you. Unlacing your dress and removing your small clothes. Warm, strong, calloused hands traveling across your breasts, hips, and thighs. Moving higher and higher until he reached the core of you.
And when you reached that pentacle of release, it was his name you sighed allowed.
This madness had to end.
So, in the early morning hours before Stone Hedge woke, you made your way back to the woods where it all began.
You did not know how long you walked but you suspected hours. The sun was steadily rising in the sky, warming the air and casting shadows through the trees. You only vaguely knew the right direction to Raventree Hall and prayed to both the old gods and the new that you were on the right path.
Not that you really had a plan once you reached Raventree Hall. It was not as if you could march up to the front door, knock, and demand to see the heir. The fact that you were a Bracken almost guaranteed that at best, such a request would be refused, or at worst, end with your head on a spike.
But even when your legs began to tire and sweat dripped down your brow, you pushed forward—determined that today would be the day you received answers.
That is until you tripped over a tree root, stumbling to the ground. You landed awkwardly on your front, both hands throbbing from cuts and scrapes you gained while trying to break your fall. But at least you had not rolled your ankle this time.
Just as you began to pick yourself up, you felt a presence behind you. You were not sure if your imagination was playing tricks on you, but the forest itself seemed to quiet. You could no longer hear the wind rustling the leaves, nor birds chirping or insects humming.
All your attention focused on one thing. Him. Benjicot. Every part of your being knew he was the one behind you.
You felt the ghost of his touch before he surrounded you. His front to your back, both kneeling on the ground. His hand brushed against your hip before he leaned in and whispered, “Didn’t I tell you that these lands were not for Brackens, my lady?”
You tried to turn to face him, but Benjicot stopped the motion by bringing his arm across your stomach, caging you against him. “How typical,” he scolded. “A Bracken who can’t do what they are told.”
Your senses were overloaded. You could practically hear your heart pounding against your chest. Everything about Benjicot pulled you further and further into his snare—his touch, his scent, his voice. You had never felt so helpless. And you liked it.
But as quickly as Benjicot had trapped you, he let you go. One moment, he was supporting your weight against him, and the next, you were unmoored and alone. Leaping to your feet, you turned to finally face the man who had singlehandedly ruined your sanity and good sense.
Benjicot had put distance between the two of you. At least two strides away, he was no longer within your reach. A part of you rebelled at the distance. For six years you had longed to be in his presence and have his attention focused on you. And now that you were here, in this place where your fates first intertwined, you could not bear the space.
But something held you back. The look on Benjicot’s face. He’s angry.
You had witnessed his legendary temper in action, had seen the bloody results. But Benjicot’s anger had never been directed toward you. Even when you first encountered him in these woods all those years ago, he had not been angry. Exasperated and intrigued, sure. But never angry.
Yet there was no mistaking the look on his face now. His eyes were cold and distant, his lips turned down. He looked at you as if you were a stranger. And you did not care for that at all.
Breaking the silence, Benjicot asked, “What are you doing here?”
His gruff voice sent a thrill down your spine. For a fleeting moment, you tried to keep your composure, tried to mold your face into a mask of indifference as he had done. But you had neither the patience nor skill to do so. Your emotions always stayed close to the surface, threatening to unleash and break free at any moment.
“What am I doing here?” you repeated back to him. “I’m here to see you. I thought that was rather obvious.”
Benjicot’s eyes narrowed at your tone. A break in the unfeeling facade he had erected. “I told you that these woods were not safe. I told you to not come back here. I told you—”
“I know what you told me!” Your own anger rising to meet his. “I have thought about what you said to me in these woods every godsdamn day for the last six years,” you seethed.
Benjicot rolled his eyes at your tantrum. “And yet, here you are.”
Unbelievable. You threw your hands into the air in frustration, eyes seeking the sky for patience. “Well maybe I would not have had to go traipsing through the woods if you had bothered to do something about our situation!”
A beat passed before Benjicot responded. “Our situation?” he asked, amusement echoing in this tone. “And what situation might that be, my lady?
You, once again trespassing on Blackwood land in violation of the assize? You, who apparently has no care for your own wellbeing, wandering into these woods alone and defenseless? As helpless as a newborn fawn, completely at the mercy of those who would strike first and ask questions later? That situation?”
You wanted to tear the smug look off his face. Maybe you really were a Bracken through and through. Because at the moment, you understood with perfect clarity why your ancestors had feuded since time in memoriam.
You did not know why he was acting this way. Why he was trying to push you away. Why he refused to acknowledge the meaning behind your words. Except—
What if he did not share your feelings? What if you had really imagined it all?
Your anger fled as quickly as it had appeared; replaced instead by a wave of nausea at your own foolishness. Of course, he did not feel the same way. You were a Bracken. Maybe he thought you were a pretty face to look at, maybe he would have had you warm his bed, but he could never love you.
You felt the color drain from your face. Trembling, you turned away from him. You could no longer bear to look at him. You needed to get away. Needed to leave this place while you still had the strength to stand.
You fled. Running as fast your legs could carry you, you weaved through the trees with no thought for direction or destination other than away, away, away.
The moment you turned away, Benjicot realized his mistake, letting his anger over your lack of self preservation win out over the joy he felt when he found you again in these woods.
And perhaps his anger was a result of the shame he felt. Shame for waiting so long to go to you that you had felt the need to put yourself at risk to seek him out.
Benjicot had faced countless opponents and impossible odds, and never once had he wavered. Never once had he questioned his skill or fortitude. But the thought of you being in danger, or gods, someone hurting you, was enough to send him into a panic.
He chased after you.
You might have gotten a head start, but Benjicot was faster. He knew these woods like the back of his hand, and there was no place you could go, no place you could hide, where he would not find you.
Spotting you up ahead, Benjicot surged forward, grasping your arm and pulling you into him. You collided into his chest, nearly sending you both to the forest floor. But Benjicot caught you, both of his hands now resting on your arms to steady you.
You were both breathing heavily. No space existed between you now. You did not understand him. Did not understand why he did not let you escape in peace. You were close to tears but refused to allow Benjicot Blackwood to steal anymore of your dignity.
“Let me go, Blackwood,” you demanded, trying to pull away from his grasp. But Benjicot held firm, tightening his bruising grip on you.
Shaking his head, Benjicot pulled you further into arms, until you stood chest to chest, with your arms caged in between. He was a good head taller than you, forcing you to tilt your head up to meet his eyes.
Your breaths mixed together as the silence dragged out between you. Only when you tried to pull away again did Benjicot finally say, “I have watched you from afar.”
You finally stilled. Eyes widening, you waited for him to continue. “And I know you have watched me, too.”
Color returned to your face, as you tore your eyes away from his searching gaze. “Do not hide from me now, Bracken.” When you failed to respond, Benjicot scoffed, “I never took you for a craven.”
You felt your blood begin to boil. How dare he call you craven. Shoving at his chest with all your strength, you shouted, “The only one craven here is you, Blackwood!”
“Oh, please enlighten me, how am I craven?”
You stopped shoving at his chest, letting all of your frustration and ire rise until all you could see was red. “You dare admit to watching me, yet you refuse to acknowledge my feelings!”
Benjicot flinched at your accusation. Now it was he who refused to look you in the eye.
But you pressed on, “Because if you have been watching me for as long as I have watched you, then there can be no doubt as to my feelings. No doubt as to where my heart lies. But you ignored me for years. And now you have the audacity to mock me when I seek you out?”
Benjicot’s eyes were back on your face, his gaze soft and pleading. A complete departure from the anger and fury he had shown you earlier. This man looked like your Benjicot. The boy who had rescued you. The man who had defended you. The one you loved with all your heart.
His voice was quiet but his words strong, “I am a simple man, my lady. A simple man who needs plain words. What are these feelings of which you speak?”
Closing your eyes for a brief moment, you sucked in a breath. You swore that he would have no more pieces of you. Swore that would you put an end to this madness. But your heart would always rule over your head.
Finding your courage, you opened your eyes, and reached for his hand. Bringing his hand to your lips, you pressed a kiss to the cracked knuckles and whispered, “I have loved you ever since we met in these woods all those years ago.”
Benjicot stilled. You were not sure if he was even breathing, but you pushed on, “You occupy all my thoughts and haunt my dreams. You consume me, and I—” You cut yourself off before you could continue.
You tried to remain unaffected, but the longer Benjicot held you, the more your body betrayed you. You felt your blood racing through your veins, felt the heat rising to your cheeks, felt a slickness begin to gather between your legs. You tried to pull away again to give yourself a moment of respite from this torture.
But Benjicot was having none of it.
He watched the way you squirmed under his gaze. Watched the way your chest heaved from the force of your confession. Watched your cheeks grow flush and warm. And when he caught your eyes again and saw your gaze drift to his lips before licking your own, he knew he was a goner.
“My lady,” Benjicot’s voice was like gravel, “had I known you were so afflicted, I never would have left you alone for so long.”
Hauling you closer, Benjicot traced his fingers from your collarbone up your neck, watching as your pulse jumped. Cupping your cheek, he brought his face close to yours, mere inches separating the two of you, and confessed, “From the moment you cut yourself on my dagger, I have loved you.”
Now it was your turn to still. For so long you had waited to hear these words, waited to be in his arms.
Benjicot kissed your forehead, mumbling against your skin, “No one else could ever compare to you, my lady.” He moved to kiss your jaw. “You are the bravest”—a kiss to your cheek—“strongest”—a kiss to your temple—“most beautiful woman I ever met.”
Kissing the corner of your mouth, Benjicot pulled back momentarily to stare into your eyes. “From that day until the end of my days, there will only ever be you.”
You were at your breaking point. You could not hold yourself back any longer. Flinging your arms around his neck, you pulled Benjicot toward you and kissed him.
And oh, what a kiss.
Your advance might have thrown Benjicot initially off guard, but he recovered quickly, remedying the situation and taking control. One hand in your hair and the other at your waist, he moved your head to the position he wanted, slanting his lips over yours and feasting.
His kisses left your breathless. Your head held no thoughts other than more, more, more. Benjicot’s teeth nipped at your lips, forcing your mouth to open and surrender. He wasted no time in stroking his tongue against yours, exploring and claiming. And when his hand moved from your waist to knead your breasts, you moaned into his mouth and pulled him closer.
Your taste, your sounds, your very being—Benjicot wanted it all for himself. You owned him, body and soul. And he was greedy to own you in return.
In the haze of his kisses, you did not realize that your feet no longer touched the ground. Benjicot had lifted you in the air. You wrapped your legs and arms around him, bringing the hardness of him against the softness of you.
Your back was against a tree, but you did not feel the rough bark. You only felt Benjicot’s lips and hands, moving across your flesh, mapping and exploring. But when Benjicot made his way to the bottom of your dress, running his hand over your delicate ankle, he paused and pulled back. There was a question in his eyes—did you wish to continue?
You nodded eagerly. No doubt or hesitation with your choice.
And Benjicot smiled. That wicked, feral smile he donned just before a fight. Another searing kiss to your lips before his hand began to move up your calf to your thigh. He was so close to where wanted him. Where you ached for him.
But Benjicot paused just short of your cunt. And when you whined at his delay, he laughed and asked, “Tell me, my lady. Have you ever touched yourself before?”
Words were beyond you. You felt dizzied and dazed, but you managed a nod.
Benjicot moved his hand another inch higher. Lips grazing your ear and hot breath on your neck. “And tell me, what did you think of when you touched yourself? What did you imagine when you brought your fingers to your warm, wet cunt?”
You wanted to die. This surely must be hell. You shook your heard, too embarrassed and flustered to answer.
Benjicot started to move his hand back down your leg, but you clenched your thighs, trapping his hand between them. Raising your head, you glared at him, but all he did was smile. “I know what you want, my lady. And I am eager to please. All I ask is that you answer the question.”
Wicked, cruel, insufferable man.
But you were desperate. An impossible ache had built inside you, and you knew that Benjicot was the only one who would relieve you.
So you put aside your pride. Clearing your throat, you whispered, “You. I thought of you, Benjicot Blackwood.”
And that was all he needed. Pushing aside your small clothes, he exposed your cunt to the air. You cried out at the feeling, arching against him as he finally slid his hand between your folds.
The first brush of him against you dragged a groan from deep in your throat. Benjicot groaned in reply, delighted at the wetness he found waiting for him. His thumb circled your clit, pressing and dragging and teasing. His other hand worked your breast while his lips pressed into your neck.
It was an assault on all fronts. Your body had never felt so hot. And when he plunged one finger into your core, you bucked your hips in response.
“I thought of you, too.” How he managed to talk, you had no idea. But even through the haze of lust, you heard him. “Thought of you spread naked on my bed when I took myself in hand. Thought of your tight, wet heat on my cock. Thought of how soft you would feel, how perfect you would be for me.”
“Benji—” You whined as he added a second finger. You had never felt so full in your life.
“That’s it,” he murmured, lips against your ears.
You pulled Benjicot’s face away from your neck and captured his lips with your own, biting his lower lip hard enough to draw blood.
Benjicot groaned, plunging his fingers in and out, hard and fast. Your existence narrowed to the feeling. You were so close, the tightness becoming nearly unbearable. You just needed one final—
The sound of your name on his lips was your undoing. Release barreled down upon you, so much so that you felt like you could break in half. You cried out Benjicot’s name, as his lips covered yours once again. The kiss was all teeth and tongue. You felt as though you were being devoured.
You clenched around his fingers again, and Benjicot let out a curse. He stroked you through your release until you were limp in his arms, kissing you all the while.
You could barely catch you breath. And when Benjicot finally pulled away and withdrew his hand, you met his stare and lost your breath all over again. Because the smile he gave you now was one you had never seen before. It was soft and tender and just for you. His lady.
You wanted to stay in these woods forever. Your own sanctuary that could not be touched by outside forces. Just when you were about to express that desire, you felt Benjicot tense against you.
And that’s when you heard. Voices. Loud and angry and coming closer by the second.
You shot Benjicot a panicked look and watched as he transformed in front of your eyes. Gone was any trace of softness or warmth, replaced instead by a hard and vicious look that had you trembling.
Bloody Ben now stood before you.
Lowering you to the ground, Benjicot tucked you between his body and the tree. He looked around, trying to decide the best course of action. You could practically see his mind at work, thinking through the various scenarios to get you to safety.
You saw the moment he reached a decision. Leaning down, he pressed one final kiss to your lips and asked, “Do you trust me?”
You did not hesitate. “Of course, I trust—” But before you could finish, your world went dark. Benjicot Blackwood had once again knocked you unconscious.
He only hoped that you would forgive him for what he was about to do.
-- Let me know what you think! And don't worry lovelies--I'm already working on part 3.
taglist: @painted-flag @majoso12 @strollthroughstars29 @a-whiterose
