#🧎🏼‍♀️ sir

[ssamorganhotchner]

I’m at WORK y’all. If I see that photo of TG in his slutty ass suit one more time I might combust 😩 HAKFHSOFJWKD

[zhenne]

i was trying to tap on his necklace thing bc i think it looks cool n wanted to see if the devs added any fun interactives with it—but my jaw dropped when he said this😭💀

[idbe-theman]

Help, the way I actually can’t stop thinking about this moment 😩 I need him so bad

SO HOT 🤤

[coryosbaby]

The power you’d have over me if u wrote for anakin<3

𝒮𝓅𝒶𝓃𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝑀𝑜𝒹𝑒𝓇𝓃! 𝒜𝓃𝒶𝓀𝒾𝓃 𝒮𝓀𝓎𝓌𝒶𝓁𝓀𝑒𝓇 ♡

Cw: mentions of blood, fem! Reader, nsfw . light dubcon, spanking, praise, anal and vaginal fingering, p n v, riding, spit kink, creampie, breeding

A/N: confession: I don’t watch Star Wars. pls don’t come for me. but Hayden Christensen is so FINE omfg bro and the modern punk version of anakin got me on my knees 🧎🏼‍♀️

It’s not hard for you to become pliant underneath your boyfriend— his nurturing demeanor and soft gaze even as he demands you to bend over his knee has your panties soaking and your brain becoming fuzzy, that familiar headspace sinking in and making you want to please him as much as you can.

It had started with your minor attitude problems throughout the day, but when you had begun to pout, and then secretly stole away Anakin’s credit card to buy a new (expensive) dress, it was the last straw. And now, as his ring clad fingers grip your hips and bend you over his knee, you’re practically quivering under his authority.

“What did I tell you, you fucking brat?” Anakin growls, as he lifts up your pretty pink skirt. He pays no mind to your panties as his hand lands down on your cheek, hard. You squeal, beginning to try and crawl off his lap— an attempt at running away, to the best of your ability. But the boy just throws you back in place and slaps you even harder.

“Don’t you run away from me. This is your punishment.”

“But I jus’..” you hiccup, wriggling against his thighs and hardened cock below you. Oh, to have the thick length in your mouth, to have a bulge forming in your throat from how tightly he fucks against you. “I jus’ wanted you to pay attention to me. You haven’t paid attention to me all day!”

“And that gives you the excuse to act like a brat?” He tsks, grabbing the fabric of your thong and pulling it taut in between your asscheeks. It hurts, but the pressure forming on your little clit from the fabric bunching up makes you let out a tiny mewl. “No, no, baby. That’s not the deal we’ve made here. If you’re good, you get rewarded. But you haven’t been good, have you?”

You want so badly to convince him: yes. yes, I’ve been a good girl, but you still didn’t give me your cock inside me. It isn’t fair!

But alas, you shake your head, decided that agreeing with the boy is your best option. Anakin grabs the sides of your thong and slides it down your thighs. More access, more skin to redden. His palm comes down on you again. It’s light, but that only means that the next one is going to be even harder than the last one he had given you.

And you were right. With almost all the strength he can muster (though not too much; he doesn’t want to hurt you incredibly), his hand comes down on your backside with a mighty force. You lurch forward, a pained moan ripping through your throat. He does it again, hard. Again, hard. Again— and again. Your cunt aches and throbs.

“Ani,” you sob. “Please— please, Ani, ‘m so sorry, sir! No more, please ..”

Anakin hesitates. But only for a moment; if this were to become too much he knows that a safe word would be spewing from your lip gloss coated lips. He exhales sharply.

“Three more.” He states gruffly.

You almost begin to cry even harder at those words. Anakin raises his hand, and slaps both cheeks. That must count as one strike instead of two. You writhe, and tears coat your cheeks and mascara runs down your face as he leaves welts on your skin. The next one is almost harder than the last, if possible, and a yell pierced through your throat at the sting. He may have drawn blood— you don’t really know, but it wouldn’t be the first time. But it’s okay. It’s okay because it’s your Ani, and Ani only does what’s best for you, and Ani gives you your punishments and no one else does. It’s so insanely bittersweet.

Anakin rubs your cheeks and soothes them with his palms. He softly whispers, “this okay, angel? Too much?” Because he’s just caring like that, and of course you shake your head and beg him to hit you again. It’s the last hit, and he takes his time and builds suspension before hitting your bruised skin one last time. Mewling, you let out a small, “Ani.. hurts.”

His fingers trace your cheeks, admiring the hand marks left there.

“You did good, sweet girl,” he coos. “So, so good. I think you deserve to cum now.”

You keen, nodding your head aggressively at his suggestion. You move your leg off in an attempt to open them wider. Anakin leans down and kisses both cheeks.

And then, with gentle hands, he pulls them apart, exposing your pussy and asshole to him. Oh, his two most favorite places in the world to rest in. He circles his thumb around your puckered asshole, and then spits down into the crack of your ass. You whimper and clench around nothing at this feeling, and Anakin slides his thumb into you. He thrusts it in, out, in, out. It burns, makes you tighten and heave. Then with his other hand he goes down to pat your swollen pussy lightly. He slides a finger against your folds.

“Wet little thing,” he murmurs. “All for me?”

You nod, pushing yourself up against his touch as he continuously pummels your asshole with his thumb .

“All f’ you, sir.” You reply.

“Good.”

He rubs your swollen little nub between two of his fingers. You cry out at the stimulation on your bundle of nerves. He slides a finger against your slit and back up again.

“Such a cute little hole.” he grunts. You don’t know if he’s referring to your pussy or the way your asshole has his thumb in a tight grip. He slides it out and then uses your mouth to wet his middle and ring finger. He slips his middle finger back into your soft ring of muscle and begins to thrust it harder. His ring finger on his other hand slips into your throbbing entrance. Wet sloshing sounds echo from your warm snatch as Anakin speeds up the pace of both of his fingers. Your eyes are practically rolling back in your head, and you bring your hands back to grab his wrist connecting to the fingers in your back entrance. It’s not in a way to slow him down, but more to speed him up; you help him move his fingers at an even faster pace.

“Yeah, you like that?” Anakin spits, watching your desperation. “My fingers feel good in your tight little ass, baby?”

“Yes, nghhh—“ his thigh rocks underneath you, as a way to relieve some of the tension in his aching cock. Remembering that this isn’t even the best part— that Anakin’s cock is still something he has to give to you, it makes your stomach flutter with butterflies. “I love your fingers inside me, daddy!”

“Yeah, you little whore. Little holes are clenching so tight baby, fuck—“ he groans, beginning to fuck up from underneath you. His jeans pressing against his cock makes him ache even more. “— shit, need to fuck this little pussy so bad..”

He doesn’t have to tell you twice. In an effort to get up, you grab his wrist from behind once again and slowly pull them out of you. Understanding what you’re trying to do, Anakin is quick to slip his fingers out of your pussy, too. You stand up on wobbly feet and slip your panties completely off of yourself. Anakin watches as your hands nimbly begin to unbuckle his belt. He bites his lower lip at the sight of your nipples that have become stiff with all of his attention. You pull his cock out, a small sigh escaping you as you see the pre cum leaking from the head. You straddle his thighs; his mouth drops open at the feeling of your bare pussy lips brushing against his girthy length. And with his glazed over eyes never leaving yours, you sink down onto him.

Your thighs practically shake as he fills you, your mouth dropping open just as his has. He stretches you out roughly, a burn starting in your core, but you don’t care. You begin to slam yourself up and down on his cock. Anakin is practically hypnotized by the way your tits bounce up and down in front of him.

“Good girl, baby.” He praises. You moan when his hands grip your sore cheeks. “Yeah, ride that fuckin’ cock. That’s it, honey..”

Skin on skin is the only thing heard in the room, the wet slapping sounds making your pussy gush on him. He thrusts up from underneath you, making you gasp. He does it again, and this time your face falls into his neck. He grips your cheeks tightly, spreads them apart, and slips his finger back inside.

“Oh—“

Your pussy clenches, and Anakin begins to pummel your pussy with desperation. His balls slap against your thighs.

“Such a tight little pussy.. always so creamy and wet for daddy, arent you? Fuck yeah, you are. Ride my fuckin’ cock, bitch, yeah.”

It’s all that can spew from Anakin’s lips as your cunt envelopes him. He can’t take it anymore, and with his strong arms he lifts your body up and wraps your arms around his waist. Squealing, you wrap your arms around his neck in an effort to hold yourself up. He goes over to the desk beside his bed, making room by swiping useless objects off with one hand. He places you on top of the table, beginning to fuck you again. Your cheeks sting from the feeling of the wood underneath you. Anakin grips one of your tits and grabs your throat as he rams into your raw, abused hole.

“Open your mouth,” he growls. “Open your fuckin’ mouth, bitch.”

You obey, head fuzzy as you open your mouth for him. He gathers saliva in his mouth and spits down onto your tongue. You swallow it for him, sticking your tongue out again.

“More, daddy, more!” You mewl. Of course, he gives you what you want— another load of his saliva is sliding down your throat in no time.

You can sense that he’s close. His hips keep sputtering, his head thrown back in ecstasy. Looking down, you watch the bulge poking in and out of your stomach as Anakin fills you. It’s so perfect, your hand goes down to press against the mound of skin there.

“It’s so deep,” you whine out. “Ani, please— need your cum, baby..”

“Oh my god…” he moans. “Gonna give it to you. Gonna fill this fuckin’ hole up. Gonna put a baby in my baby…”

That makes you practically scream, and with one last thrust Anakin’s cum is spilling deep in your womb. You shake, watching as he rides out his high. You can feel how full of cum he’s made you, how completely used you are. He sighs, heavy. He rests his head in the crook of your neck. After a moment he pulls away, and you watch as his cock slips out of your gaping hole. His cum seeps out of you in thick, creamy streams. Anikan doesn’t hesitate to get down on his knees in front of you. His tongue moves to your hole as he begins to fuck his cum back into you, and you can feel the labret on his bottom lip scraping against your cunt. He slides his fingers inside of you and moves his tongue to your clit. You cry out as he suckles the swollen button into your mouth. Your orgasm is only a few moments away. A flick, and another. Your thighs squeeze his head, and then you’re finally cumming— body freezing up, a loud moan spilling from you. Anakin finger fucks you through your orgasm. Pulling away, he brings his cum soaked fingers up to your mouth. As he watches your tongue wrap around the digits, he smiles.

“Did so good,” he mutters. “Love you.”

Your hands go up to card through his dyed black and blue hair.

“Love you, Ani.”

© 2023 bratty-lxndry444 🤏🏻 all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, modify, repost, or claim as yours !!!

[buckybarnesinabox]

got me acting like a feral cat. this ain’t FAIR.

i could take him (not in a fight)

[euno11a]

I’m BEGGING for a mafiaboss!Yoongi with an enemies to lovers vibe 🧎🏼‍♀️🧎🏼‍♀️

Hell yes!!! Nah, because I feel like even in a relationship with him, he’d still be stubborn but in a cute way ya know?

Warnings: mentions of blood, yoongi being a stubborn man, arguing (him telling you to take care of yourself 👀), mentions of not taking care of self properly (eating, sleeping)

You had been working for Min Yoongi for quite a while now being his secretary in a sense. He had horrible working hours, meaning that you had horrible working hours. You were the one that took care of all his meetings, research on targets and just regular chore things he apparently couldn’t do himself (🙄). Sure, he payed well and was nice to look at, but he was a pain in your ass. Almost every day he would have some sort of obscene job for you to complete by the end of the day, and you were 99.9% sure he hated you. You definitely hated him! Who makes a person work on their birthday?! Min Yoongi does, that’s who! You’d missed countless family gatherings, birthdays and random celebrations, just because he gave you a new job. You definitely hated him.

“Where are my files, ___? I need them by 2pm. Get it done.” Speak of the devil and he shall appear! A new job, files that he should be doing, but is instead giving to you because he’s probably too lazy to do it. You scoffed quietly and took the stack of files to your smaller desk that was located outside of his meeting room.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, jackass…” you whispered under your breath. But almost immediately regretted it when you heard his footsteps stop.

“Excuse me?” He said in a dark and threatening tone.

You froze, turning to look at him. “Of course, sir. I’ll have those done.” Giving a small bow, you tried to grab the files and make an escape.

“No, what did you say? Because I know for a fact that you did not just say that. Tell me right now.” His voice was only getting deeper, walking closer towards you.

Your eyes widened, backing up a little. Yes he was a total asshat, but something inside you turned…you felt oddly attracted to him. Wait…WHAT?! No, no, no! Stop thinking like that! “Forgive me, s-sir, I misspoke. It will not happen again.”

“It better not.” He spat, walking past you. “Have those files done by the time I get back.”

You didn’t have time to respond before he walked away and out of sight. Damn…you fucked up, but maybe it was worth it…

~~~ Hours later, you were still working on the files. It was a bunch of bullshit about this upcoming event that he planned on attending so that he could assassinate some rich guy. What a load of bull. You felt like crap, you hadn’t eaten and barely got sleep the night before. It was an awful habit of yours, working so much that you forgot to take basic care of yourself. You had planned on fixing that, you really had, but after working for Yoongi, that plan seemed to crumple up and get thrown into the sewer. You heard steps, heavy ones, ones that sounded fuzzy. Looking up, you saw Yoongi, covered in someone else’s blood. The sight made you nauseous.

“Are the files complete?” He asked in a cold and distant tone.

“Yes, they are, sir…” you slurred out, resting your head in your hand. Composing yourself, you stood up and grabbed the files, handing them to him. The drowsiness got to you and you stumbled, dropping the files, papers scattered everywhere. He caught you in his strong arms, holding your weight.

“The hell…? What’s wrong? ___? ___?!” That was the last thing you heard before passing out.

~~~ You woke up…some time later, but not where you thought you’d be. You were in some dark room, under a blanket. You sat up, trying to make out anything in the dark room, when the door opened. A warm hand touched your forehead, your eyes trying to adjust to the darkness to see who it is.

“You know, you should be taking care of yourself.” A deep voice spoke, ah shit, Yoongi. “When was the last time you ate? Or slept?”

“Uhm, I ate today. And slept last night.” You spoke in a quiet voice. Trying to look away.

“Be honest.” He spoke sternly.

“A banana…and only about an hour…”

You could hear the disappointment in his singular sigh. He stood up and turned on a lamp, oh…you were in his office. It was pretty nice…has a couch and everything.

“I’ll be back with food.” He began making his way to the door again.

“You really don’t need to-!”

“But I will. Because I care about you, kitten. Now take a nap. You need it.” He said softly, walking out of the room, closing the door for you to rest.

[blossomwritesthings]

HOLY FUCK HOW DOES THIS NOT HAVE MORE NOTES ON IT?!!?!? THIS WAS HOT AS HELL 🥵🥵😫😫😩🤲🏼

Can I make a request? Lee Know being a soft dom and possessive with a brat gf. They had an argument, but later meet up at an event. She wore a shoooort dress that barely covers her butt just to get to him and she gets punished when the get home. The brain rot is real >.<

I'm so sorry this took almost a month...it's been a loooong December. hopefully this is worth the wait!

Angels in Bodycons

LMH

Masterlist

wc: 5.2k

warnings: smut, sexual explicit content, dom!minho, angry sex?, orgasm denial, use of toys, handcuffs, masturbation (m), cumshots, reader is a brat, mean nicknames (slut), jealousy?, also fluff sprinkled in there

-

“No.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I said so.” Minho wasn’t budging. It was the same argument about the same dress every time. He loved it and despised it, the glossy black satin was perfectly shaped to your body and bunched slightly at the hips, accentuating your curves. The sweetheart neckline was lined with lace, he couldn’t pry his eyes away. The only other place he ventured to stare at was the decreasing length, your legs completely exposed and your ass just barely covered. Which was the exact reason Minho refused to let you leave the house wearing it.

“You’re sounding a bit possessive there, babe. It’s my body.” You weren’t supposed to be getting ready for another few hours, hair messy and face bare as you reached into your top to adjust your breasts so they filled the cups nicer.

Minho was supposed to be attending another red carpet event and he was allowed a plus one— not that anyone knew. Dating in his profession is, after all, forbidden. No one needed to know anyways, but having to keep you a secret made him all the more anxious to bring you with him. He couldn’t hold your hand or sling an arm around your waist when someone was getting just a bit too close. Being dressed moderately was the one thing he asked of you during times like these.

“No, it’s our body. Because you’re mine,” he stood from his spot on the bed, coming up behind you and kissing your cheek. Just as he did, he slyly unzipped the back of your dress.

The sweet gesture was just a diversion from his words that you processed a second too late. He was already making his way into the bathroom when you spoke again. “My body is my body, Min.” Bathroom door just slightly ajar, you knew he could hear you.

You stepped out of the dress and hung it, displaying it on the bedroom door. “Sure, of course it’s your body, baby,” he called back. “But this is a big event. I don’t want you to embarrass me by wearing something that looks like you just walked out of a love motel.”

Goosebumps raised against your bare skin, temperature suddenly running hot even though you were just in panties and a bra. You felt uncomfortable in your own skin by his words. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Your voice raised.

Minho kicked the bathroom door open a bit wider, barely peeking at you from over his shoulder as he picked up his shaving cream and razor. “Don’t make that face. You know what I mean.”

“No, I really don’t,” you crossed your arms over your chest, annoyed now. “Explain it to me in a way my tiny hooker mind can understand.”

“I never said you were—“

“You didn’t have to.”

“Babe, c’mon. I don’t have time for this now. You know how I feel about the dress. End of story.”

He continued on with his routine, mumbling something about having to get to the company for hair and makeup before going to the event. You sat in your shared bed with the covers up to your neck, almost stewing in petty anger. The conversation about the dress ended the same way every time, there was no winning when Minho was this stubborn.

The goosebumps didn’t fade as you watched him scurry around grabbing what he needed. His words replayed in your mind and only added to your growing temperament. It made you feel small, humiliated, and self conscious. Is that really what he thought of you? Was that the real reason he didn’t want to be seen in public with you?

“Are you sure you don’t wanna come with me now? If we get there early, they might have time to do your makeup, too.” Minho offered as he slipped on his shoes.

You hadn’t moved an inch since covering up in bed. “No. Don’t want your hooker girlfriend to embarrass you.” He stopped dead in his movements, pinching the bridge of his nose and sighing.

“Please, Y/N. You’re not a hooker and you‘re not an embarrassment.”

He was about ready to leave when you muttered to yourself in anger, “not an embarrassment ‘cus I technically don’t exist.”

“I heard that.” Entirely fed up, Minho almost walked out the door right then. But even through his negative emotions, he made his way to the bedroom to see you off. Coming up to your side of the bed, he leaned in to kiss you. When you didn’t kiss him back, Minho clicked his tongue and grumbled, “fine. Don’t bother coming if you’re going to be like that. See if I care.” And he left.

It had been hours since you last spoke to your boyfriend. Fighting with him was the one thing you hated most, it was tiring and unnecessary. But this was an ongoing issue. If he hated the dress that much, he would’ve thrown it away and not told you. Instead, he ogles you in it and promises to rip it off your body while simultaneously threatening to burn it if you dared to wear it outside the confines of your house. His last parting words sparked what would be the beginning of your worst idea yet.

Pretty, coquette-esque makeup, hair neatly styled, the only thing missing was your dress. The one Minho specifically wanted shredded called out to you. It was screaming for you to put it on and see if he cares. That’s exactly what you did.

You showed up to the event in the dress, adding some sheer tights for the littlest bit of decency possible. You disregarded all the looks you got from strangers as you entered the building and did as told so that you could get in as an artist plus one. Contrary to Minho’s thoughts on the dress, his stylists had another opinion. Befriending them back when you first started dating had since boosted your ego exponentially, they were always kind and supportive. Especially now as you spotted them along the side of the large ceremonial room. You stuck with them, talking about anything and everything as you scanned the crowd. “He’s over there,” one of them mentioned, motioning with her eyes towards your boyfriend and his group members.

They were huddled around their table like a pack of high school boys, laughing amongst themselves when one of them tossed a half empty water bottle into the air and landed straight up. On the far side of the table that faced you, you made eye contact with Chan, who discreetly nudged your boyfriend next to him. Minho shot his head in the direction of his friend's eyes and landed on you. For a moment, he smiled brightly. Then his gaze tracked down and the smile faded. Slumping back in his chair you could see him purse his lips and tongue at his cheek in annoyance.

The displeased expression on his face made you feel vulnerable, heart shaking in your chest a little as you nervously tug the end of the dress down. Perhaps the sudden change in your attitude drew too much attention, the same stylist put her hand on your shoulder and said sweetly, “you look good. Don’t worry about him.” You gave her an apologetic smile.

It was a few more hours of mingling with the hair and makeup group, whom you’d grown accustomed to hanging out with at these events. The few of you found an open table and were chit chatting when someone came up behind you, leaning over your shoulder and saying, “hi, are you new? I’ve never seen you around before.”

The voice was one you didn’t recognize, turning to find a man. He didn’t seem to be dressed as the other idols in flashy clothes but rather a simple dark blue suit. He introduced himself and took the empty seat next to you. Over the course of a few minutes of talking to him, you found out he was a stylist for another group, to which your friends welcomed him happily.

What you didn’t see was your boyfriend boring holes into the back of your head from across the room. If anyone outside of your group had any idea of your relationship, they’d see the steam coming out of his ears.

By the time the end of the night rolled around, you’d only glanced at Minho a handful, each time he was already looking at you with clear anger. The male stylist next to you leaned over to you once more and whispered, “you look amazing.”

Your eyes went wide for a moment, caught off guard. An unknown blush creeped upon your cheeks, “thank you,” was all you’d said in response.

But Minho could see everything. He could see the stranger lingering a little too closely for a little too long, he could see your lips smiling and moving overly enthusiastically, he could see you getting flustered at whatever it was the man was telling you. He watched your little group stand and start to leave for the night. The man put his hand on the small of your back and stayed by your side until it was time for you to part ways. In the minute it took to say goodbye, you never once adjusted the length of your dress, ass practically on display for the entirety of the industry to see. 

All the while, Minho did his best to keep a cool demeanor. But his friends were walking too slow for his liking, ultimately taking the lead and striding perhaps a bit too fast for any normal idol to be taking when parting the spotlight.

You were still conversing with some of the other staff when the group walked into the lounge room. Already stripping off his costume blazer, Minho silently made his way over to you and handed the coat to the stylist, shooing her away as politely as he possibly could in the heat of his anger. “Hey baby,” you whispered, smiling sweetly.

“What do you think you’re doing?” He backed you against the wall, keeping his voice low.

“Supporting you? Talking with my friends?” You tilted your head up, “you look great, so cute in white.” The tips of your fingers played with the hem of his button up.

Minho grabbed your hand to stop your fidgeting, gaze hard on your face and dead serious. It was hard to keep up the playful attitude when you could feel the heat of his feverish skin. Your smile faded, meeting his stare. Subconsciously you pulled down the hem of your dress, arms coming up to cover your chest. The way he was looking at you now wasn’t your boyfriend, it wasn’t loving or sweet— instead replaced with exasperation and a bone chilling void that took over his usual warm eyes. He didn’t need to say anything else, only barely furrowing his eyebrows and letting the grip on your hand loosen slightly.

He didn’t need to say anything else when you moved towards his spare change of clothes and took his hoodie and draped it over yourself. He didn’t need to say anything as you pulled your dress down as far as it would go. He didn’t need to say anything as you waited for him to be allowed to leave and ordered a cab as soon as possible. Even as the two of you made your way home in silence, his hands in his lap but knees laid against yours, Minho didn’t say anything. 

The walk from the outside of your building up to your front door felt both too slow and not slow enough, the bubbling nervousness in your gut as your boyfriend threw his keys onto the coffee table and ran a hand through his neatly styled hair finally burst. Word vomit.

“I— I know you’re mad and I’m sorry for not doing as you wanted but I don’t regret wearing the dress. You might not like me in it but I felt pretty for once! In a room full of beautiful people, I felt pretty and I felt confident, then you look at me like you’re disgusted by me and it makes me feel like shit. But damn it, I felt pretty. So I’m sorry for embarrassing you but I’m not sorry for feeling pretty.” No, not word vomit. Completely and utter annihilation of any waning conviction you might’ve had.

By the time you’d caught your breath, Minho was standing with his hands crossed over his chest and eyes blinking blankly at you. He didn’t even so much as breathe loud enough for you to hear. Silence. Deafening silence.

“Say something,” you pleaded, voice cracking as your throat burned and eyes stung with pressing tears.

But Minho didn’t. Instead, he dropped his eyes down from your face towards your chest that was covered by his hoodie. In a blink, he was standing before you in the middle of your living room and was stripping the garment away. Hardly touching you, his hands spun you by the waist to turn around, gently peeling the straps off your shoulders and unzipping the dress. When it fell to the floor, he moved onto the stockings, taking hold of the waistband and ripping the flimsy material in half so it joined the pile at your feet.

You stood there quiet and self conscious. You knew he was looking at you, up and down, arms coming to cover your bare chest once again. The lacy black panties did extremely little to hide the remaining parts of you, your legs pressing together.

“You think,” Minho’s gentle voice whispered in your ear, “I'm disgusted by you?” You didn’t trust yourself to speak, only nodding and shutting your eyes tightly.

“Stupid baby,” tone of voice mockingly sweet, your skin raising goosebumps as he reached around to caress your forearms. The feeling of his shirt against your naked back made you tense up, but also fold at the heat of his body behind yours. “You were the most beautiful one in the room.”

He interlaced his fingers with yours, slowly pulling your hands away from your chest to leave you entirely exposed. Your breathing became more labored as he let you go only to trail his fingers back up your arm towards your neck, tangling his fingers into your hair. You almost let your guard down at how kind he was being, shuddering when you felt his lips pressing at the junction of your shoulder. And in a split second, Minho tugged your head back by the roots of your hair and latched onto your neck with his teeth. It made you gasp and emit a broken groan.

You could do nothing but ball up your fists and arch your back into him, do nothing but take the harshness of his bruising teeth. The few seconds he’d take to lap his tongue over the raw skin would transmit into his grip in your hair by pulling tighter. His free hand came back between your legs, hooking his fingers under the thin strap covering your cunt and pulling hard. The arousal-soaked fabric rubbed at your clit, not nearly enough for pleasure but just enough for minor relief. There were so many things happening at once, your brain felt hazy and it was only getting cloudier. You didn’t realize you were rutting your hips into nothing but the tightened panties until he let go, moving to tug you by the hip flush against his. Ass slamming into his clothed erection, your brain screamed at you to stay still, stay still and maybe he’ll be nice.

No, you couldn’t. Adrenaline was coursing through your body and it took over your foggy, horny brain. You rubbed against his crotch, hoping to entice him into taking them off. But he didn’t, all Minho did was let you writhe in his grasp and tease yourself over his clothes. Then, raising his hand from your hip, it came back down and collided with your skin. Your back bent at an almost bone breaking angle. He did it again, and once more, slapping the same reaction out of you until you were gasping for air.

“Give me one good reason I shouldn’t tie you up and punish you until you're begging me to stop.”

His breath was hot against your cheek, if you were just a bit more in your head you wouldn’t have caught that his chest was heaving as heavily as yours.

“I’m sorry,” was all you could say.

Minho clicked his tongue, “not good enough, princess.”

Like on a leash he tugged you in the direction of your bedroom behind him, being thrown into the center of the bed and taking off your panties. Instantly, he stole the garment from you and dangled it from the tip of his finger. Minho loomed over you from the edge of the bed, tall and daunting. In a whisper, “are you sure you want this?” Following his eyes to the panties, you nodded shyly. “I need you to use your words, baby. I’m angry but I don’t want to hurt you… too much. So speak while I’m still letting you.”

Sitting up on your elbows and legs spreading, “I want this.” An unreadable smirk disguised as deviance and mischief crept upon his face.

“I won’t stop. You know the word.”

The word in question; catnip– because why else would you be thinking about catnip while he was torturing you unless it became too much? Or three taps onto him or any hard surface that could get his attention. Minho didn’t need to repeat the safeword aloud for you to know what he meant.

When you nodded, he walked around the side of the bed purposefully. He still towered over you as he reached down to caress your cheek, the only moment of saccharine he’d shown you since that morning before he left. And in a split second, the same hand wrapped around the back of your neck and your panties were being shoved into your mouth. The taste of your arousal was more of a turn on than you’d ever care to admit, but Minho knew you liked it. He knew your limits and had every intention of pushing you to the very brink.

Cunt still exposed, mouth full, you watched and waited as your boyfriend reached under the bed for his black box of goodies. He shook it in his hands, the rattling of toys only making your pussy clench in anticipation. Warmth shot through you as he dug around in it, eventually finding what he was looking for and tilting his head in your direction. “You’ve pushed it too far tonight, princess. Don’t these look too appealing?” The clinging of his favorite gadget made your eyes grow wide. Shiny silver handcuffs, not even lined because he enjoyed being able to reminisce.

Minho dangled them the same way he did your panties then unlocked them, setting the key onto the bedside table. Still fully clothed, he manhandled you onto your stomach and hiked your ass into the air. He was rough in the way he forced your head into the mattress and locked your arms behind your back. There was hardly any room for your wrists to move without the cuffs digging into your skin, only enough to not cut the circulation. Even though he explicitly said he wouldn’t go easy, it wasn’t until you tried to tug on the bondage did it really sink in how badly you’d fucked up tonight.

He’d left you in this compromising position for a split second and left the room, coming back with your dress in hand. You could see him over your shoulder toss it onto the lounge chair in the corner of the room that was perfectly placed in your line of vision. Wordlessly, Minho reached into the black box again, not allowing you to see what he pulled out. But you couldn’t take the silence anymore, attempting to speak but muffled by the panties in your mouth. With a sigh, he pulled the gag from your mouth for just a moment.

“Say what you wanna say. Last chance.” He peered at you with shadowed eyes, not entirely the same way he did in the dressing room but nowhere near your boyfriend’s usual kind demeanor. Stoic, stern, horny beyond belief but the need to prove a point much greater than the straining in his pants.

“Talk to me.” Your voice cracked, weary but prepared for whatever he had in store. Minho’s eyes softened for just a second. “Please. Talk to me.” He nodded just once before gently pushing the panties back into your mouth.

The buzzing sound of a vibration filled the tense room, your ass swaying in the air in response. It was completely involuntary, you were no stranger to those sounds. It made you clench around nothing again, cunt puffy and untouched and so desperate.

Without warning, Minho shoved the vibrator into your clit, dull thrum just enough to make your body jolt forward and push your face further into the sheets. Your fingernails dug into the skin of your palms, the stimulation already proving to be more than you anticipated. In fact, it was hardly anything, Minho was hardly giving you anything and yet you were mewling like a cat in heat.

He stood on his knees behind you, caging your legs between his as he held the toy. “Close your legs, slut.” His voice was rough, condescending as he forced your legs shut with his own and entrapping the toy between them. The nickname made you shiver along with the added vibrations throughout your lower half. “If you let go, you won’t be cumming tonight.”

He wanted you to hold the vibrator between your legs, but it was already becoming more difficult to do, especially when he raised the speed by two. It was slightly more than a thrum now, making your muscles clench and body twitch. 

You moaned into the fabric, blinking away the painful and pleasurable tears. Minho moved towards the seat with your dress, turning his back to you and picking it up. “Why can’t you just listen to me? Why do you make me punish you?” The sound of his zipper opening and fumbling fabric stood out between your own lewd moans.

Neck and shoulders already aching, you tried to get a better look at him but as you moved the vibrator shifted. It pressed into your clit at a different angle, a better angle that had your body going stiff at the coil tightening in your gut.

“Don’t you dare. Don’t you fucking dare,” Minho ordered, slumping onto the chair. His cock was out, pants down his thighs and your dress in hand. “Keep looking at me, princess.” The vibrations started to feel stronger and not enough at the same thing, the constant stimulation leading you down a dangerous path.

“You’re always pretty– always so damn pretty it hurts.” You did your best to breathe and force your orgasm back, but your request for him to keep speaking made it hard. Slowly, his free hand came down to his dick, just holding it straight up and tightening his grip around the base. “Do you know how hard it is,” Minho reached down to his balls, “to watch you be so pretty and I can’t do a damn thing about it?”

Bringing your dress to his nose, he inhaled deeply, then exhaled and his eyes rolled closed. “And you smell so good. I bet that guy could smell you, too. I almost yelled across the room to get him to back up.” You watched as he stroked his cock slowly, up and down while your body spasmed in restrained pleasure. “I saw the way you blushed, princess. Did he compliment you? Is that where all that fake courage to talk back to me came from?”

The sudden surge of your high nearing made you whine louder, but fell upon deaf ears as Minho continued. “Yeah, that’s what it was. You’re a little praise slut. My praise slut. Do I not make you feel pretty, angel?” Fending off your orgasm and answering him was the hardest thing you’d faced so far, shaking your head and your muffled words turning into a whimper. “No, I treat you so well. The one time I ask you not to do something, you do it anyway. This fucking dress. You looked so gorgeous tonight.” You moaned louder, unable to stop the tears from seeping into the mattress as he started to twist his wrist faster.

If you weren’t gagged, Minho would’ve heard you begging like your life depended on it. With how intent he was at keeping eye contact, it very well could’ve. You struggled to keep your body up and the cuffs jingled every time you attempted to pull your wrist apart. Every time your orgasm passed, it rose quicker the next time around. You were stuck in a torturous state of give, give, give, deny. Repeat.

A grin washed across your boyfriend’s face as he watched your muscles tighten to fight the high. He was proud that you even lasted this long, and usually he would never tell you that, opting to show you. But he learned something new when your toes curled as he called you beautiful again. “Never gonna let you wear this fucking dress again,” his hand around his cock sped up, heaving in your lingering scent on the fabric.

Through gritted teeth and the taste of your arousal licked gone, you managed to coherently whimper, “please.”

A loud chuckle rumbled in Minho’s chest as he stood, taking the dress with him to stand at the side of the bed just out of reach– not that you could’ve touched him anyways.

“Asking so nicely after being a brat all fucking night.” The pace of his hand moved subconsciously at the same as your body writhed. “Will you be good? If I let you cum, will you be my good princess again?” You nodded furiously. He laughed, “yeah, you will. Because you’re mine. Your pretty little cunt is mine.”

You tugged at the cuffs harder, using all your strength to keep you from falling over while Minho thrusted into his hand, keeping your dress pressed to his nose. Another repressed orgasm faded and you had lost count of how many passed. You were humiliated, overstimulated, exhausted, sweaty, and touch deprived. To top it all off, your boyfriend was still making fun of you. And you couldn’t even hate it. You couldn’t be mad because it was exactly what you wanted despite feeling all those things.

His cock twitched in his hand, so close to release. Minho reached over and pulled the panties from your mouth, a string of spit following as he tossed it to the floor. Even with the new freedom, you didn’t speak, not wanting to disobey again.

Teeth biting into his bottom lip, Minho moaned, “tell me you love me.”

“I love you. L– love you more than anything.” It was as true as true can be, but it didn’t ease the now painful knot in your stomach tightening, already knowing you won’t be able to cut it loose.

“Tell me you’re mine.”

“I’m yours, only yours. I belong to you,” your voice was as shaky as the vibrator pressed to your raw bundle of nerves.

He seemed to like that answer, his hand tightening and focusing on the tip, swiping the precum with his thumb and spreading it around. “You belong to me,” Minho mimicked, “I own this dress. I own you. Only I get to ruin you like I’m going to ruin your slutty little dress.”

“Please, ruin me.”

The tears and drool made your face glossy, enough to push him over the edge, muttering the permission for you to cum just as he did. Minho took one step closer to you, holding the dress beneath his cock as his warm release shot onto your back. The raw crashing orgasm made your body burn white hot, vision go blank, and all your muscles lock. The vibrator dropped from between your legs, unable to take anymore. The second you relaxed, Minho used the key to free you from the cuffs. Every inch of your body was sensitive to the touch, even more when Minho used the dress to clean his cum off your skin. It made you shiver.

Minho fell to his knees as you toppled to the side, finally face to face. His cheeks were decorated with blush, eyes warm brown that were swimming with adoration. “Did so good, princess,” he whispered, kissing your cheek and brushing your sweaty hair from your face.

He knew not to touch you just yet, still too sensitive for anything other than a few kisses. While your body recovered, Minho stripped his clothes and left them in a pile on the floor, tossing the soiled dress along with it. He gathered wet wipes, water, and icy-hot balm for your muscles. By the time he returned, you wanted nothing more than to hold him, eyes closed and still reaching out blindly for him.

“Min,” you dreamily called out, feeling his presence enter the bedroom again.

“I’m here,” he came over to your side again, placing everything on the nightstand and putting the toys to the side for cleaning later. You only groaned and reached out for him again, feeling his hand in your palm and attempted to pull him closer. “Hold on, baby. Let me wipe you down. It’s gonna be cold.” You didn’t even bother bracing yourself, knowing how warm your body ran that after the initial shock, it’d feel good. And you were right. The coolness of the wet wipe was soothing against your raw pussy, almost moaning again at the sensation. Minho laughed, finishing his duties and moving on to making you hydrate after a few minutes of you fighting him on just letting you sleep.

“One more thing. C’mon, you can do it.” His words of encouragement made you fold and let him maneuver you onto your back. You heard the icy-hot bottle open and close, then the bed dipping between your legs and his big hands gently taking hold of your thighs. The slick of the gel made his gliding palms smooth and the tingling feeling easing your tight muscles.

“You really make me feel like a princess,” you mumbled, half way towards sleep. Minho chuckled at your tired expression, bending over and pressing kisses to your stomach. As he finished his routine and climbed into bed next to you, you found the energy to speak again. “I’ll never wear the dress again. And I’m sorry.”

Arm curling over your torso, Minho pulled you closer, back against his chest. He hummed and peppered kisses over your shoulder and neck, “yeah, it’s kinda wrecked now anyways. I’m sorry, too.”

Sleepily giggling, you rolled over and nuzzled into his chest. The sound of his heartbeat was comforting. Minho held you as gently as possible, but the lingering worry that he was still upset kept you awake. Through the haze, you prodded the subject.

“We’re good?”

“Oh angel,” he responded immediately, arm coming up to hold your head against his chest and pressing a kiss into your hair, “we’re always good.”

[stabby-apologist]

I saw this picture on Pinterest and said “Whoa” out loud 🥵🥵 Sir, respectfully—🧎🏼‍♀️

[holdmytesseract]

I umm yes I will go with you sir...credits to @lokischambermaid

Me, too, Sir. 🫡🧎🏼‍♀️

@lokischambermaid - can we pls talk about this for a sec??? 🫠

[syncoflove]

CHOI SAN

Hell yeah.. Choi san.. forgive me Sir.. 🧎🏼‍♀️🧎🏼‍♀️🛐

[animeaestheticsthings]

Anything you want sir!!!I am at your service!!!🤍🤍🤍🧎🏼‍♀️🧎🏼‍♀️🛐🛐🛐🛐🫶🏻🫶🏻💫💫

[inthemiddle0feverywhere]

Bad Batch Season 3 Episode 5 (scattered) thoughts and first impressions (ramblings)

Major spoilers under the cut

This one is also very long because mannnnnnn did I love this episode and omg do I have big feelings about it

Also yes I do love each member of tbb but in case it’s not obvious I’m a crosshair girlie. Have been since I first heard his voice in season 7 of tcw so this is gonna be very crosshair centric (because he finally has screen time and more than like 2 speaking lines this season!!)

Lula! 🥰🥰

Is Omega in a supply closet? Whatever better than her barren room at the lab

Ah nope her old “room” the gun turret 🥰🥰

A glimpse of mornings on board the marauder: peaceful boys and caf 🥹 probably only peaceful again now that omega is home

This is Omega’s best look omg the the crocheted vest??? I wanna cosplay her now or actually just wear this outfit fr

At first I was so annoyed they kept crosshair in this ugly ass outfit but I honestly think it’s because even though it’s warm on Pabu he’s always cold because he’s so skinny now (well he always was lean but this is a testament to how much weight he lost as a prisoner) They keep trying to feed him fruit and my man keeps using it as target practice 🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️

I honestly love when they show scenes through like either a scope or helmet visor. Like I really love seeing what they’re seeing. In this case AZI (so happy they took him from Cids bar- sorry “parlor”….it was a dive bar)

He’s so mad at his hand 😭 my poor baby he really should let AZI look at it. What do we think it is? Nerve damage? I imagine it feels tingly like when your foot falls asleep.

I love that Batcher loves him!! Animals know good people. He’s a good man Savannah! 😭😭😭 and he likes Batcher too and anyone that’s kind to animals is ok by me.

Ugh Crosshair teaching Omega about being a sniper 🥰🥰😭🥰😭🥰 one day she’s just gonna pop out with a sick trick shot lmao

Shouldn’t have given him his rifle??? Sir it’s an extension of him, it’s like you gave him back one of his body parts

“Omega trusts him and that’s good enough for me” Wrecker!!! My sweet boy!! Big man and even bigger heart. He’s now kinda caught in the middle he wants to be cool with Crosshair again but doesn’t want to betray Hunter they’ve been through a lot just the 2 of them these past several months. Crosshair and Hunter are like parents in the middle of a divorce 😭

53%???? Fuckkkkkkk way worse than we thought

Echo!!!!! Yay mom came home!

“No hug for me” screaming crying throwing up! 😭😭😭😭😭😭 💔💔💔💔he’s disguising it as sarcasm but he wants it, he wants a hug! SOMEBODY HUG HIM DAMMIT! I volunteer!!! Please

Omega between her 2 dads 🥰 (Though is Crosshair more wine aunt vibes sometimes?) And batcher by Crosshair’s feet of course

Yummmmm I bet Pabu has banging sushi 🍣 Love Wrecker being an unbothered king enjoying his sush🥰

😭😭😭😭😭 Crosshair’s face when Echo mentioned Tech. He knows. He knows he fell or perished (shh no 🤡) trying to save him. They’re twins and he lost his other half and I’m devastated!! 😭

Haaaaa welcome to parenting a teenager Hunter!!!

Are Hunter’s eyes green all of a sudden?

Crosshair being the voice of reason?? I love seeing this side of him. I HC that since he is silent and highly observant he was a voice reason often for the batch. (Can we please get a series of TBB during the clone wars?? Or like when they were cadets or something. We only see them in 4 episodes in tcw and they were just an insane suicide squad who hated regs and didn’t follow orders or have anyone in charge of them like I wanna see their adventures and their dynamic and how they are when they have downtime! Please lucasfilmmmmmm 🙇‍♀️🧎🏼‍♀️)

“I’m older than you are, little brother” 😂😂😂 and she got crosshair to chuckle lol ugh I love their dynamic so much. They are really feeding us rn (please don’t take it away)

Omg he’s so brave bringing them back there! To that freaking ice planet where nothing but trauma happened for Crosshair. I know he probably wished he would never have to go back there again but he knows this will help so he goes anyway

The old armor!!!! Helllllll frickinnnn yeaaaaaa (he’s so hot in armor omg I have a headache)

“Take a guesssssss” 🥵

“He started it” 😂😂 major youngest sibling energy

Mayday’s helmet! 💔💔💔💔 somebody sedate me!! 😭

Why can’t Hunter sense the Wyrm?

TOOTHPICK!!! Wrecker defo kept his toothpicks in the armor case 🥰

Frickin ice vulture always an omen. (Animals seem to really like Crosshair though even the scary ones)

“I know you” 😭 I know Hunter meant it in a “I know you’re sneaky and closed off and I’m expecting the worst from you right now ” but it just hit me harder than that. “I know you”- you’re my brother, the youngest I’ve known you since the day you were born. “I know you- I know there’s more to your silence I know your still waters run way deeper than you let on.” “I’m your brother- I know you talk to me I know you”❤️‍🩹

Oh shitttttt thems are fightin words yes let it out everyone

“I’ll do it! 😁” Wreckerrrr I love you

Hunter’s fast af boi!

Batcher is actually ripped af 💪

Ok petition that Cross doesn’t yell anymore it doesn’t suit him at all lmaoooo

Poor Wrecker yes it’s always ALWAYS a huge monster 😭

“Fantastic” 😂😂😂

Omg this is a roller coaster of emotions! Crosshair being soft with Batcher, the nodding! Ugh nothing like fending off a giant ice wyrm to bring bros back together

He’s so pretty shut up I know his head is shaped like a lightbulb

AAHH THERES THE HUG 🥰

progress 😌

“I thought I was being a good soldier 😔” * *pterodactyl screeching *

Welp Im deceased, fed and nurtured but dead at the same time.

Thank you thank you thank you for these past few episodes. Us Crosshair girlies were really in pain seasons 1 and 2

[ssahotchnerr]

to answer the question you asked yesterday… season 11 😵‍💫🦋🦋🦋 lord have mercy. the tight suits?? the way they fit his stomach, arms, and thighs just so snug & ✨perfect✨??? 😀😀

sir… sir i’m begging 🧎🏼‍♀️🧎🏼‍♀️🧎🏼‍♀️

just let me suck you dry 🤤

😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 s11 deserves WAY more recognition oh my god oh my god oh my gOD

him in internal affairs 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫🦋🦋🦋 it’s giving dilf and sugar daddy and GOD i need to write a s11 x reader fic where he comes home and reader sees him looking like that and UGSJSHSJSJS

OR IN entropy when he’s leaning over penelope’s shoulder UGHHHHHH AARON TOP ME ASAP PLEASEEEEEEEE

[my-papa-emeritus-iv]

Have my soul sir! 🤰🏼🧎🏼‍♀️

[tendercherie]

this one security guard at work has such dad vibes…. When I was leaving he told me to look both ways before I cross the street 🧎🏼‍♀️🧎🏼‍♀️ yes sir!