#I have to learn a few more before my dom session

[minibunz]

today’s practice was pretty fun! 🖤❤️

[redr0sewrites]

"if you have wings she def returns the favor (very much willing to elaborate on a reader w sensitive wings 😇)"

BY ALL MEANS PLEASE ELABORATE 🙏

GLADLY NONNIE!!!! for anyone who doesn't know this is ab my main girl lute btw 😇

🥀Cw: fluff, smut, overstim, wing kink?, dom lute, sub reader, the wings are an erogenous zone ig

🥀minors dni with the nsfw portion

Sfw:

as i've said before, Lute doesn't spend much time preening herself or taking a lot of care of her wings

that compleEEEETELYYY changes when it comes to u tho

she will absolutely offer to clean your wings for you, and is definitely at least a little touchy with them

when your wings get itchy and irritated from molting she'll sit you down and start working on cleaning them and pruning them. she definitely takes her time and by the end your wings look (and feel) lovely

lute is the type of person to have freezing cold hands all the time and will come up behind you and place them on your wings to scare you

yk when people come up behind you to trail their finger down your spine to make you jolt? yea, lute does that but with your wings

its one of the few times she'll ever truly tease you, but she adores how flustered you get

she'll always subconsciously have her wings touching yours, or be wrapping her wings around you in general

lute would really appreciate it if you gifted her one of your feathers, she'd never say it aloud but she likes having a piece of you with her

when going to an extermination she'll keep the feather on a little charm attached to her belt or something, and will look at it as a reminder of what she's fighting for (sobbing crying screaming)

while she isn't huge on pda, lute will occasionally just brush her wings against yours in public or reach out to smooth any of your ruffled feathers

lute just loves your wings, and she loves that you trust her enough to let her touch them

Nsfw:

this is the part yall have been waiting for ik it ANYWAYS

the first time you mention that you want her to touch YOUR wings lute is genuinely touched that you trust her sm and also hella turned on ab the thought of dominating you like that

the first time you try it out, she's tentative with her touches, gently stroking your feathers and slowly learning which spots felt best for you

emotions are definitely high, shes so tender and slow about coaxing each noise out of you

lute runs her hands over the most sensitive parts of your wings to watch you shiver and squirm beneath her, only to lean down and press airy kisses over those sensitive areas to make you whine

she cherishes each noise you make, and memorizes everything about your wings that makes you tick

sometimes when initiating softer sex, she just comes up behind you and starts rubbing soft circles onto the most intimate parts of your soft wings

lute may even tickle them a little while your having these softer sessions, just the sound of your soft giggles and moans melting together only makes her want to worship you more

she isn't always so nice when it comes to your wings tho

if you ask her to be rougher she'll gladly oblige, in fact she almost wants you to ask just so that she can overstimulate you until your sobbing

LUTE LOVES TYING YOUR WINGS UP, the way you twist and turn against the restraints, whimpering as the ropes grind so sweetly against the erogenous zones on your wings- ugh it makes her feral

i also think she'd make you cum using only your wings in a punishment sort of way. you've been acting like a total brat? fine, she's going to make you cum only by stroking you wings, not touching a single part of the rest of your body, no matter how much you plead and whimper

lute will also very, very occasionally tease your wings in public. like you could be talking to adam and just casually chilling when all of a sudden her hand will slowly wrap around your waist and start caressing your wings- she has all of your sensitive spots memorized so it doesn't take long until you're squirming, praying nobody notices the way your clenching your thighs and slowly rolling your hips under the table in search of friction

this might sound insane but lute would totally use a vibrator on your wings too. she'll pull you onto her lap as if to spank you, but instead she'll spread your wings, running a small vibrator over each exposed erogenous zone and watching you mewl and buck at the vibrations

she'd def degrade you about it too, calling you a slut for getting off just by some friction on your wings

tiny side note, lute loves seeing you in the laciest lingerie with your wings out too. just coming home from a stressful day to see her pretty doll all dressed up in a frilly red getup, your back is fully exposed as your wings drape over the shared bed as you turn your head back to look at her with innocent eyes... theres just something about you (and your wings) all dolled up and pretty that makes her want to ravish you

please lute one chance please please (i could fix her guys!!!)

[r0-boat]

Proxy Phaethon Nsfw headcannons

Belle x reader x Wise

Only got a little bit for you here :) if you would like more let me know!!

Wise

One of the only people in the world that would take 'Netflix and chill' seriously. Every time and I mean every time he asks you to binge watch something on Netflix, it never ends in just binge-watching...

Wants to ask you to watch porn with him But it's too afraid. So instead he will watch a movie but then pretends that he accidentally picked the movie with the sex scene in it oopsie...

Wise wants you, and oh my god, he does. Just thinking about your body gets him hard every night. He just doesn't know how to explain in words how much he carnally aches for you to be on his dick. Closet pervert Wise. But once you get him into your bed suddenly he's not so shy anymore and he's fucking you like you awaken some kind of beast inside of him.

Wise only knows the basics of how to pleasure you, But he's a quick learner and after a few sessions he'll have you screaming. He wants to learn what you like and he's very perceptive of your body.

Wise gets really handy during sex, like... Difference is night and day In public he barely holds your hand(shy boi) but when he wants to initiate he's all over you. Whispering about how he wants you.

Wise value is your and his pleasure and intimacy above all else, Sex whether it be kinky or not he sees as an intimate act. And he wants to make love to you at least for a little bit every time he has you with him.

Belle

Wise thanks that because he's a man he should dom all the time (Even though he has thoughts about getting pegged He hasn't gotten the courage to ask)

... Oh yeah this one reads fanfiction.

On a more serious note Belle is more openly sexual, I'm in front of her brother but he has had unfortunately heard of the certain kinds of fictional crushes she's into.

Virgin but... Belle seems very confident and cocky, she'll be saying how much she'll make you scream but She is all talk; once you're in bed, she kind of starts to get nervous. For that reason, it is very easy to top her, but once she gets used to actually having sex, She will get her payback.

Belle is extremely touchy sometimes it's not because she wants to have sex. The two of you will just be chilling and she's on her phone where her hand will just touch your chest squeeze it like a stress ball.

Once she gets over her nervousness, Belle despite never having sex before somehow more experienced. You swear to God you will never know where she learns these things. And she will never tell you.

Belle is a conniving teasing little son of a bitch, She will leave you wanting and she will. Tell you to beg before she gives you what you want. She is switch, but she still wants you to know your place. Belle is not a monster; she sees sex as intimate, whether it be kinky or not. She wants to make love to you at least once.

Belle would have definitely pegged you in her butler uniform. Nothing like dressing like a guy to fuck your significant other.

[doudouneverte]

Love your fics also would you write a fic on ewa pajor

a/n: okay I got this

Ray of sunshine

Pairing: Ewa Pajor x Léon!Reader; Mapi Léon x sister!Reader; VfL Wolfsburg women (frauen) x reader

Summary: you're her golden retriever wife

Type: Fluff

Warning: use of google translate for some polish sentence and petnames

word count: 2418

---------

Smitten. That's exactly what could have described Ewa the first time she saw you when she transferred to her new club. She loved you, and it would be an understatement to say you just loved her. You were fully in love with her. And everybody knew that.

Despite that, Ewa was not the one who showed PDA, at least not in front of everyone. But when you were just the two of you, she transformed into a concentration of cuteness and affection, like this morning. You were slowly waking up when you felt eyes on you.

"Will you kiss me, or will you just keep staring at me like a creep?" You asked. The striker didn't wait much longer before pressing her lips against yours. "Good morning, mi amor (my love)." You mumbled after you crashed your head against the pillow.

"Morning. Now come on, wake up; we have training today and we can't be late." She said pulling off the blanket of your body.

"Okay, but before I go, I want another kiss." You pleaded, and she groaned before completing your request, but the kisses started to be more intense, and now your lips were traveling on her collarbone until she stopped you.

"Uh-huh no. The last time we did that, you left a hickey, and we were late for training." This memory made you laugh.

You remembered when you rushed into the locker room to change and Dom noticed your little 'gift' on your wife's body. The Dutch defender asked what that was, and Ewa noticed what she was talking about: everyone was staring at her, and some started to cheer, which made her very embarrassed.

"Okay," you said reluctantly, "but you own me a thirty-minute hug session after training."

"Of course I will." She said before leaving the room.

Later in the training, you were shooting penalties. You waited your turn and decided to find your girlfriend. The Polish was talking with Alex and Sveindis about what seemed to be a strategy for the next match. You approached her from the back and wrapped your arms around your wife's torso before letting your head rest on her shoulder.

Even if she was focused on the conversation, you knew that she was totally aware of your presence, and she confirmed it when she gently brushed your hands with her finger. Something subtle but enough for you to show her love.

A few seconds later, you were called for shooting, and you pressed a quick kiss on her neck with the promise to be back soon. When you left, the striker almost instantly wrapped her arms around her like she searched for a trace of your warmth; this little action wasn't unnoticed by your teammates, who just smirked and exchanged a satisfied look.

After a few moments, it was the strikers' turn to shoot, and of course you were ready to cheer Ewa when she prepared to shoot. She took a deep breath, focused on Merle and the goal, and started a little run to the ball. Her foot was about to touch the ball when she heard you say, "Let's go kochanie (honey)." She totally missed her shot and turned to look at you, more surprised than angry.

The team laughed, but she didn't care at this moment; the only thing that mattered to her was what you said. When she finally shot a good pen, she came to you and your bright smile, and she only wanted to pull you close to her and kiss you, but you were not alone.

"What did you call me?" The striker asked, but she didn't seem angry, so you just pulled her closer to your body.

"Kochanie" You repeated with a really bad accent, but she didn't care.

"Where did you learn that?"

"On the internet. But I'm not sure about the pronunciation."

She swore if she could melt under your cuteness right now, she would. "Oh, you don't know how much I love you, mi amor."

"I love when you talk Spanish." You grinned.

"And I found it very attractive when you try to talk Polish."

"I don't want to ruin anything, but it's the end of the training." Lena announced, instantly breaking the mood and making you roll your eyes.

"You always ruin everything, Oberdorf."

"And you're always a horny stuff, Léon." Your best friend countered what your wife agreed with.

"Oh, come on, it's not true." You argued.

"It's totally true." Jill said.

~~~~

A few days later, you were in the Netherlands to play the final of the Champions League against Barcelona. It was always special to play against them because that meant you would not only play against your national teammates but also against your sister.

You left Spain for Germany really young, at first for boarding school, but you signed a contract with Wolfsburg, and that's when you met Ewa. Being too good for your age, you were allowed to play for the first team, and when a certain Polish made her apparition, it didn't take you more than three months to flirt with her.

Back to your sister: since you moved to Germany, you have seen her only when you were called for national camps or when you were back in Spain for holidays. So seeing her during the season, even if that meant you would play against each other, was always one of the best things for you. Everyone knows how important family was to you. So when Mapi approved your relationship with your teammate, you were more than happy that you could ever be.

In the tunnel, everyone was tensed—well,  not everyone. You had your body wrapped around Ewa's, trying to calm your nerves, and in this situation, she was the best for that.

"Nervous?" Mapi asked when she spotted you.

"Always." You admitted. Your big sister opened her arms, and you left your wife for your sister's warmth.

"It's okay; you will go on this pitch and play the best football you can because you only play the best football on the pitch." Your sister said, trying to calm you.

"After mine, of course." Alexia said, gaining a confused look from Ewa, Mapi, and you. "Oh, sorry, I didn't want to break the mood."

"But she's not totally wrong." Mapi added, making you pull away from her with a shocked expression. "I'm joking, Y/n/n." You slammed her shoulder, and she laughed. "But we both know it's true." She whispered to Alexia.

"I heard you." You said while you walked to join your teammates.

"I love you, pequeña Léon." Your sister said.

"Me too." Her best friend added, gaining another confused look from the Spanish defender. "In a big sister way, of course." She corrected.

"You already have a sister." You heard Mapi say.

~~~~

At the end of the game, Barça won. You were a mess, crying in Ewa's arms, making your sister feel a little bad for you. Of course you knew that one of your teams would lose, but you were leading until halftime, so you had hopes.

"Hey, it's okay; we will try it next year." Your lover said, but you knew she was as frustrated and sad as you.

You took a moment to thank the fans who came; some journalists for both German and Spanish media wanted you to say a few words about the game, and after that, you were back in the hotel.

~~~~

A few days later, you were packing to go to Spain for holidays. Making yourself unavailable for the World Cup meant that you could spend more time with your sister, and this time you convinced your wife to come with you.

And here you were at the airport, trying to calm your girl while she was making sure you didn't forget anything. Thankfully for you, once on the plane, it was too late for any comeback, and she has to stop overthinking.

"Welcome back home." You said when you came out of the airport in Barcelona. The heat wave, the loud people, and your sister waiting for you missed you.

The Polish striker found it difficult to match your enjoyment. Of course, she was happy to be there with you, but she had other plans for this summer. On the ride to your sister's house, your wife stayed silent; she just looked through the window, hearing you talking in Spanish about what you wanted to do. She didn't understand everything, but she got the necessary

When you were at your destination, she felt more comfortable than before, and she spent the rest of the day stuck on the couch with Ingrid while you and your sister insisted on making dinner.

The next morning, like usual, she woke up before you. You being the first thing she saw every morning was the best thing she could dream of. She admired you, memorizing every detail of your face like the first time, even if you had been together for nearly seven years and married for half of them.

"You really need to stop staring at me when I sleep." You remarked when you woke up. "Or at least give me a kiss before."

"Always pleading for attention."

"Uh-huh, always pleading for your attention. It's different."

"You just woke up, and you already want to start an argument." She playfully rolled her eyes before giving you your morning kiss.

"I love you." You said after a few seconds of staring at each other.

"I know. And I love you too." She replied, pecking your nose before leaving the bed.

"Oh, come on, come back. It's still early." You whined. Ewa threw you your phone before heading to the bathroom.

"It's 9 a.m., my love. And I'm pretty sure I heard Alexia and some other players come a few minutes ago." She spoke in the other room.

"Oh, come one, just five minutes." You pleaded.

"We both know you can't finish in just five minutes." She said making you laugh. "Now come on, before they decide to blow up this door and see you half naked."

"Hey, I have a bra; it's just..."

"Next to the bed." She completed for you. You looked at where she indicated and quickly dressed yourself. Thankfully, just when you finished, someone knocked on the door.

"Can I come in or you are naked?" Ingrid asked on the other side of the door.

"No, Ewa is naked." you replied. The Polish rolled her eyes and slapped the back of your head before she opened the door to a very embarrassed Norwegian.

"Sorry, don't pay attention to her. But anyway, you wanted something?"

"Uh, yeah, Mapi and the girls want to have a last lunch with all the girls before we start to train for the World Cup, and she wants to know if you two want to come."

"Of course we're in." You said finally leaving the bed.

~~~~

Two hours later, you were with all the Barcelona players—what should've been a little lunch between teammates and plus two became a real party. Your wife found herself sitting between your sister and her best friend while you were giving your attention to the young players. Everything was okay until a woman came to see you, and Ewa saw you talking with her.

The Wolfsburg players tried not to feel jealous, even if she knew you would never even think about cheating on her. You were both too in love with each other for that. So after a few glances at you, she finally focused on what the Spanish around her were talking about.

After a moment, Alexia got her attention while she frenetically tapped her shoulder and pointed at you. You were showing something on your phone. Getting a little curious, Ewa excused herself, came to you, and managed to catch the end of your conversation.

"...and that's her goal against Bauern Munich. She just came back, so it was important to her to show everyone she still could..." You stopped yourself when you felt a hand on your lower back. "Hey hermosa, are you okay?" You asked when you noticed your wife's expression.

"Yeah, I was just looking for you, but it looks like you're already occupied." She replied, gesturing to the woman next to you.

"Oh right, Ewa, this is Selina; she's a reporter. And Selina, this is Ewa, my wife, the best striker in the world, but you already know that."

"Nice to meet you; Y/n talked a lot about you." Selina held her hand out to Ewa, who shook it with a fake smile.

"The pleasure is mine." She replied before quickly turning her focus to you. "Alexia wanted to talk to you. I think you should go to see her." You thanked her and left a quick peck on her cheek before heading to your national captain.

You were talking with Alexia when the striker came back. She sat next to you and gently grabbed your hand and intertwined your fingers.

"When will you go back to Germany?" Patri asked you.

"At the end of the week. We still got to see Ewa's family and also spent some time with our teammates before their camps. But don't worry, we will be back a few weeks after." You replied.

~~~~

At the end of the week, your sister drove you and your wife to the airport. You said your goodbyes and headed to the plane. Back in Germany, you were waiting for a cab when Ewa called you.

"Yes?" you asked after facing her.

"You have something on your face." She said. You tried to whip whatever that was until she cupped your face and gently kissed you. When she pulled away, she didn't miss your blushing face and your weak legs.

"What was that for?" You were very surprised.

"I just wanted to."

"Please, I need you to want more." You said, and she laughed.

"I will try." You wrapped your arms around her waist and lost yourself for a moment in her gaze. "What?" she asked when she saw you smirk.

"Kocham cię (I love you)"

"Did you train your pronunciation with Duolingo?" She joked, making you roll your eyes.

"Can you please not break the mood?" You replied with a pooty face.

"Okay, I stop. Te quiero también (I love you too)."

"Please don't stop speaking Spanish; it's really hot in your mouth."

"Okay, calm down, horny stuff; the cab is here." She gave you a last kiss before pulling away from your grip.

[yelenasdiary]

Okay... I just hope that your requests are still open but I checked and they're still open so yeah. Maybe I could request a litol something...👉👈

Look what Oppenheimer did to me...so maybe just that scene where Flo's character grabbed that book and have Cillian read it in front of her while doing the first deed—welp I think that's the second, nAur why am I counting😭

So, so, so maybe reader coming over at College Jock!Yelena's apartment to tutor her for their examinations but Yelena is being stubborn and would just lay in bed all day. Reader was all calm and Yelena was all whiny about studying and suddenly reader has a way how to make Yelena study and yep thAt deed enters...G!P Yelena uhuh yes HAHAHAHAHA! Yelena lost all her cool when reader just started straddling her lap with the book in front of her, she was shocked and just following what reader says. Top reader, YES!

Yeah maybe you could write this one🙈🙈🙈🙈🙈🙈

-👸

Tutoring Sessions

Pairing: College Jock! Yelena x Tutor! Reader 

Summary: Yelena doesn’t care much for her end of year exams until you found a new way for her to learn.

18+ ONLY! Minors & Men DNI! | Smut | Yelena as a Penis | Top & Dom! Reader | Bottom & Sub! Yelena | Language Warning | P in V Sex | Unprotected Sex | Oral (Yelena receiving) | Orgasm Control (Yelena receiving) |Mentions of Masturbation | Mentions of Drinking | All legal, Reader is also a College Student | 1.1K | 

Translations: Detka (baby)

AC: I’m so mad I have to wait until November for a HQ of THAT scene omg! Anyways, I hope you enjoy this! x 

You sighed when you entered Yelena's apartment, she told you where the spare key was as she trusted you. She knew you were coming but once again, didn't bother to be ready and prepared for your session. The kitchen table was clear, not a textbook or pen in sight. 

"Yelena!" You called out as you placed your things on the wooden table, rolling your eyes when you saw the empty pizza box on the coffee table with an empty bottle of vodka next to it. "Lena!" You called out again, but not a sound rushed through the jocks apartment. 

You walked down the short hall to her room, knocking before you entered. "Hey!!" The Russian looked flustered as she quickly grabbed a pillow to place over her lap. You ignored the activity you'd just walked in on as you raised a brow at her. "You said you've be ready for todays session" you reminded her. 

"Yeah, I kind of forgot, I had Kate over last night and we had a few to drink" 

"Yelena, you're going to fail your exams! You have to take this seriously" you snapped slightly. Yelena wasn't stupid, just lazy and she cared more about football than she did anything else when it came to her education. Exams were a few weeks away and Yelena asked you to tutor her when the coach of the football team told her she needed to get her grades up or she'd be benched until they were up. You snapped slightly. Yelena wasn't stupid, just lazy. 

"Okay, so I forgot one time, I'm sorry. Just give me a 5 minutes and I'll be ready to study" she replied in a huff. You raised a brow at her once again, "you forget every single time! Maybe you weren't in here jerking off to whatever degrading porno you were watching you would've seen the text message I sent telling you that I was on my way" 

"I wasn't, what?" Yelena sat up a little more, her cheeks all flustered. Your eyes shifted to the pile of books on the dresser that instantly gave you an idea. It wasn't a secret that Yelena was popular and very much a player and as much as you tried to ignore your growing crush on the football player, seeing her so flustered and embarrassed only made you want her more.

"Well, maybe since you" you started as you took the very small steps towards the pile of books, picking up the first one on the pile, "rather spend your time focusing on football, partying and jerking off, maybe this might help you be a little more interest in studying" you added as you reached for the zipper of your dress on your back, letting it fall to the floor, pooling at your feet. 

Yelena's eyes widened at the beauty in front of her, her cock throbbed under the pillow that was now stained with her pre-cum, she watched as you walked a straight line towards her. "What's wrong baby?" you smirked as you removed the pillow from her lap, "well, I can see why you're very popular" you added, your eyes traveled from her hard cock to her eyes. She was speechless which only confirmed to you that the blonde would be your little pet. 

"Read the first page" you instructed as you opened the first page and waited for Yelena to take the book from your hands. She gasps when she felt your now free hands wrap around her length, taking a look at you before her eyes would rest on the printed text in front of her. "Go on, read it and don't you dare think about cumming" you looked at her before taking her in your mouth. 

"F-fuck!" the jock groaned as your tongue swirled around her tip, her eyes closed for a moment as she embraced the warmth of your mouth around her cock. One hand slowly pumping her thick member as she began to read from the textbook. You took her inch-by-inch sucking and gagging around her as you listened to her struggle to finish sentence by sentence being interrupted by her moans and trying not to blow her load too soon. 

As much as Yelena was enjoying the blow job you were giving her, you couldn't help but notice the throbbing your pussy was giving. With one hand wrapped around the base of Yelena's cock and your mouth full of her, you used your other hand to reach inside your panties and began to rub your clit in tight circles. 

"Don't s-stop!" Yelena moaned, throwing her head back as you gagged around her once more, hoping she had done enough reading to be allowed to cum. "F-fuck detka, I'm g-going cum!" she added. Slapping her tip against your tongue, you looked up at her. 

"That's a shame baby, you can't even last until the second page, can you?" you raised a brow at her while your hand still pumped her cock. Of course, she was a show off and was now determined to prove you wrong, she continued reading from the textbook while you gave her a few last pumps before you got up and removed your panties. 

Smirk tugged at your lips when Yelena didn't even look up from the textbook to question why you stopped your actions. You straddled her waist and lined her cock up with your entrance. Slowly, you sunk yourself down on her, your eyes rolling back at the way she was stretching you out, a gasp and groan came from Yelena as she stuttered on her words. 

"Keep reading baby, I didn't say stop" you said before you began to ride her. You were impressed with how determined she was to prove you wrong, with every page she finished, the faster you sped up your actions. Your beasts bouncing in front of her, the view being covered by the book in front of her. 

"If you go any f-faster, I'm g'nna fu-fucking cum!" Yelena threw her head back once more. 

"Yeah? The popular football player can't hold out for me? That's such a shame" you replied, only caring for your own release at this point. "You're clenching me so f-fucking h-hard!" Yelena groaned, only making you roll your hips harder, your hands resting on her abs as you felt your orgasm close by. 

"Finish the paragraph!" you moaned, your nails digging into her skin. Yelena couldn't help but moan at the feeling of you clenching around her cock as she struggled to finish the paragraph on the page, once finished she threw the book to the side and grabbed your hips in her grip.

"P-please! I can't hold it any l-longer!" She begged just intime for you to finally let her release her load inside of you. 

"Cum with me!" you moaned in reply, throwing your head back with another moan as you felt her warm spurts of cum cover your walls. You stayed on top of her until you felt her soften before you laid beside her to catch your breath. "I think I found out how to get you to study" you smirked.

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[derythcorvinus]

🧠🪱Wiggly Wednesday 🧠🪱

Thank you for the tag @wheneverfeasible 💚

Alright so last week's was about Steve, but today we got an Eddie brain worm wriggling around. Or two, really.

I actually head cannon that Eddie is versatile. He can and will bottom, but he prefers to top. He can and will sub, but he prefers to dom. The reason being is simply because he enjoys having people put that trust and control in his hands. And it's so much harder for him to give all that up to others. There's also just something about watching someone slip and settle into subspace.

But that's so thing he craves sometimes. He wants to be put down like that, he wants to feel fuzzy and floaty. He's just terrified that he'd be treated wrong so he doesn't let that side of him show.

With all that said, he's learned how to be a damn good dom. Aftercare is his favorite thing. He gets to watch his partner just revel in the afterglow, satisfied whether they have a tear stained face or not.

Now let's go back a few years when Eddie had his first hangover. He was miserable and bitchy, snapping at Wayne while he tried to curl up underneath blankets. Wayne leaves for a while and Eddie starts to wonder if he really messed up this time, but then his uncle comes back, spends some time in the kitchen making (in Eddie's opinion) too much noise.

Then the blankets and sheets are being ripped off of the unsuspecting Eddie, and a glass of what looks like water is being held out towards him. There's also a sandwich, but Eddie forgoes that and takes a sip of the drink. His face scrunches up and he stares at the glass in his hand, asking Wayne if he just made him drink salt water. Wayne laughs and tells him that it's unflavored Pedialyte. Eddie feels better than he thought he would after a few glasses of the Pedialyte.

Now Eddie's go to drink of choice for his subs after intense sessions? Pedialyte. It's got less sugars than most other electrolytes replenishing drinks. He sticks with the unflavored Pedialyte, just to be safe, and explains what it is before the sub drinks it.

Then he and Steve start a Dom/Sub relationship. Steve kind of laughs at the Pedialyte thing at first, not in a mean way though, it's just surprising and thoughtful. He gets used to the unflavored one. But in passing, he mentions he likes strawberry flavored drinks, and after their next session, his drink is pink and has a hint of sweetness from the strawberry flavoring; opposed to the normal clear and flavorless liquid.

And, just like every other time they've done this, Eddie makes sure Steve drinks the entire glass before he's allowed to do anything else.

And some time later, when their relationship develops into something with more feelings, Eddie learns to trust Steve with a role swap. Eddie experiences subspace for the first time, finds out just how well his aftercare tactics are when Steve does everything Eddie had done for others. And yeah, it's probably changed up a little bit to be authentic to Steve, or maybe he develops his own aftercare routine over time.

But he always makes sure that Eddie has a glass of apple flavored Pedialyte after. And he always makes sure Eddie drinks the entire glass.

I don't care if the apple flavor Pedialyte didn't exist in the 80's, it exists for Eddie in my mind. The whole Pedialyte brain worm happened because I was drinking Pedialyte last night. I did do some research on it to see when it was invented, I ended up finding out that people use it for hangovers and that's why they started marketing it towards adults. Don't know if it's true or not, but I think that's neat.

[hiddengiggles]

After-Play Clothing

I’ve talked before about ways to prepare to play and aftercare discussions HERE, HERE, and HERE but this is a little more geared toward a way you can care for yourself after any play sessions!

On the list of things you will learn about yourself as you explore kink, how you need to treat your body after playing. There are a few things that are universal, and others that are unique to your particular needs.

We’ll start with best practices that apply to everyone:

Textures should be soft all over. Anything you decide to wear after giving your nerve endings intense attention needs to be gentle on you. I suggest avoiding irritating textures like lace, some mesh, and some linens, and be cautious with tags stitched into your clothes. Pure cotton is usually your best bet.

You should choose pieces that make you feel confident everyday, not just when you’re at your best. For as much of a working over as your body is getting, you’re going to want to relax completely. Your mind may get a hint of drop (of the Dom or sub variety) and try to convince you there’s something wrong or undesirable about your (wonderful) body. Don’t add fuel to an unhelpful fire. Choose clothes that fit comfortably, and thank your body for such an awesome experience if you can.

Try not to choose anything too loose or with dangling parts. Your nerves are going to be on high alert for the next sensation. Something unexpected brushing or bumping you may cause distress or discomfort for reasons you can’t even express. Untied strings or tassels, for example, are not advised.

If you’ll be away from your wardrobe, pack a couple options. What feels right normally may not this time, and you don’t want to be stuck with your choice. I usually bring a couple pairs of panties, shorts and sweatpants, a t-shirt and a tank top. All are interchangeable for what I need in the moment.

Now we’ll talk about some more subjective criteria! This isn’t every option, or every question to ask, but I hope this guides you to comfort!

What kind of neckline is comfortable to you? If you find comfort in something around your neck like a play collar, you may have an easier time winding down with a higher neckline. After play, I need a little more room around my neck, so I prefer lower necklines like a V-neck

What temperature do you need to reach? I run a little cold in general, but tend to get particularly cold and shiver after an intense play session. Others run hot and need to be able to cool down. I generally suggest having light layers to shift as needed, but make sure you’ll have what you need. For people running hot, shorts, a hairtie (as applicable), and a shirt without sleeves are good. For those who run cold, long sweatpants/joggers, socks or slippers to maintain heat in extremities, a t-shirt or thin long sleeve shirt, and a sweater to layer as needed.

Do you need a particular undergarment style? Depending on the kind of play you do, there may be soreness or discomfort around the parts of you with the most nerves. For example, impact play may leave you extra tender and/or need a balm to soothe, which could lead to clothing sticking. If you’re a person with breasts, do they need air or additional support? Consider what is going to be comfortable for you and avoid unnecessary topical irritation.

As most aftercare things are, it’s going to be a little bit of trial and error until you find your unique formula for post-play comfort. Remember to communicate with your play partner if you have one, and if you’re playing alone to check in with yourself mentally and emotionally too!

[nerdieforpedro]

Sard’ika Sessions

Session Two

Fanfiction 18+

Masterlist | Sard’ika Sessions Masterlist I Din Djarin/ The Mandalorian Masterlist

Summary: You still vividly recall your first session with your Mandalorian. His hands exploring your body and his beskar pleasuring you. New risks are taken before and during your session. Things are left unsaid.

Warnings: masturbation (female and male), sex toy use, semi-public sexual activity, HANDS, fingering, praise kink, Din being a soft dom menace at this point, money for sexual favors, sense deprivation (sight), scent kink, body worship, anal play, oral sex (male and female receiving), cum kink, angst (a little bit because I’m mean)

Notes: So basically, I turned the smut dial way up in this session. I actually planned to space it out, but decided not to because I too am a menace to my readers and myself. I hope everyone who reads enjoys and if not, eh…I dunno what to tell you because we’re only at session two. We’re going to further space buddies. 😎

Word Count: 3.8k (approx)

Space beta buddies special thanks: @i-own-loki , @megamindsecretlair and @theywhowriteandknowthings ❤️❤️❤️

The day after the bounty hunter left, you received a black box delivered via courier. There was no name but instinct told you who it was from - The Mandalorian or Din as he told you to call him from now on. Making sure to drink water before opening it, good that you did, for it contained a card and tools that he wanted you to practice with. 

Sard’ika 

I’d like for you to resolve to use these items and learn more about your body. We will utilize them to assess your progress. 

Make sure to wear the emerald for me Mesh’la.

Din

Inside the box was a glass bottle of viscous liquid, upon further inspection, it was lubricant. Next to the lube, a velvet purple bag contained three plugs - anal plugs, the small insert card explained with increasing sizes to prepare one’s ass for insertion of larger objects. You licked your lips at the thought of Din’s length inside of you, but any previous entry attempts to your back door had been met with minimal prep and pain. A small smile spread on your face at the thought Din displayed in his actions. There were some small metal items that looked like they had small metal balls attached to a paperclip except it looked closer to tweezers maybe? There was another card, explaining that they indeed were closer to tweezers and that they attached to your nipples. You figured out the items, it would be easier to start with the clamps first.

You stood naked in the refresher to get a better look at what you were doing with the things and at a few different angles. Your hunch was correct and getting them to stay on was a challenge in itself as they had a tendency to roll your nipple and pop off. Once sufficiently clamped, you found that the crisp metal reminded you of the Mandalorian’s beskar, Din’s beskar that you had rode to your climax the last time you saw him. The memory soon had you bent over the sink, hearing the small metal ball weights attached to the clamps clack against the sink as you stretched your hand to your wet lips. Calling his name, you wondered if this is what he saw when his visor was trained on you less than 24 hours ago. Your fingers were much too thin and short in comparison to his, not stretching you enough and too soft to have the same effect his did. You opted to pull on one of the nipple clamps, teasing your own breast and giving focus to your clit, making you crumple over your sink as your forehead touched the mirror, it felt similar to his helmet so you stayed in the position for a bit, letting the decreasing waves of pleasure run their course. 

The next day, after your shift at the bounty hunter’s guild, you decide to try out the anal plugs - starting with the smallest one, you weren’t completely insane. You showered and got in your bed after placing two towels on the bed just in case. Of what you weren’t sure, but you figured it was better safe than sorry. A small amount of the cold jelly was placed on the small plug as you bent forward and brought it behind you, slowly inserting it past your buttocks and into your anus. Despite the lube, there was still a burn from the stretch in muscle, but not as bad as you had imagined. You managed to keep it in for ten minutes before removing it, cleaning it and dressing to make yourself dinner. The subsequent days were spent getting more familiar with the equipment Din had sent. The day before he was due to return, you received a hologram from him, it instructed you to wear your clamps and whichever anal plug you were up to to work for him. It made you nervous, that somehow, someone would notice that you seemed a little excitable the following day, but for him you would. He did pay quite a handsome sum of credits and you wondered if the tools would come out of what he would pay this upcoming session.

The day was proceeding smoothly. Processing bounties and doling out credits as well as new jobs with pucks that came in from requestors. It was toward the end of your shift, things had slowed down and there had been no sign of his shining armor though the doors of the Guild. It was when you took a swing of your water, that you spotted him come through the double doors, his broad frame strode in slow motion toward you. Your back straightened, your bra rubbed against the clamps under your blouse and vest, the added pressure from your corrected posture made the second butt plug press a bit deeper into you, making a silent whimper as the Mandalorian sat across from you. 

“Afternoon. It’s good to see you.” You nodded and returned his greeting, barely able to keep your composure. His low register, even distorted by his helmet, was palpable and had your core aching. Standing to get his payment of credits and one small slab of beskar shifted the plug and had you take a deep breath as you gushed in your panties, wetting them.

“I'm glad to see you too. Here's your payment, I’ll be right back, Mando.” It pained you to call him by his title rather than his name, but you were aware his name should not be spoken outside of the two of you. Quickly you gave him his payment and returned to the back, where there was a spare office, you needed to take the pressure off your ass. It was too intense and his mere presence was overwhelming. Din found your behavior curious and wanted to know if his hunch was right, following you to the spare room. He closed the door and locked it. He could tell. You must have followed his instructions and not only used the items but were wearing them, had them inside of you. The bounty hunter licked his lips inside of his helmet, hungry for the results of your bodily studies. “Mando, you can’t be in here. I need a few minutes, please.” Your voice is small, another oddity. Din closed the gap, 

“Turn around Sard’ika. Show me your face.” You turned slowly and held onto the small desk that was in the room, otherwise you may fall. “Lovely girl, open your legs for me. I’ll ease your tension.” He watched as your eyes went wide, his bare hands were before you and reached down, gently raising your skirt and parting your thighs, he didn’t feel you try and close them and pressed forward, running a finger along your soaked panties before moving them to the side. “I’ve waited to touch you and feel your warm skin again. Especially here, it’s so hot. Will you continue to melt for me?” His visor met her eyes, you nodded and placed your hands on his shoulder pauldrons. Din’s middle finger slipped inside of your folds and held one of your knees up to spread your further, your soft whimpers slowly became moans as his speed increased. Fellow employees were shuffling up and down the hallway just beyond the door which pressed a sense of urgency into your hips. 

However, when you grind them onto Din’s finger, you found that he added another one, taking a yelp from you. Unable to keep yourself quiet, the warrior releases your knee and places his thumb in your mouth. “Use me Sard’ika. You want release don’t you?” His voice gives an air of amusement as your lips wrap around his thumb and roll your tongue around it, tasting salt and something you can’t place. With a few more pumps, your walls cave around his fingers, teeth dig into his knuckle before he’s able to pull it out. You hear him hiss, but he doesn’t say anything, letting you recover as he puts his gloves back on and hides the skin of his large hands from you again. 

“I’ll leave first and meet you at your place Sard’ika. Don’t take too long. We have much to do.” A soft open and close of the door makes you reconsider what this arrangement may be doing to your mental health, but the money and orgasms outweigh your concerns. Taking a little over five minutes to make sure you don’t look too dishshelved or blissed out, you exit the small back room and go to lock up your desk and complete the handoff to the on coming shift. Despite the anal plug, you hurry home to where the Mandalorian waits for you.

The bounty hunter realized that his actions could have had grave consequences today. He had sought you out because if activities were kept to your home it would be discrete. Your appearance today wasn’t much different from the many other times he had seen you, but those were before he had seen you in your bare form, writing from his touch and looking directly into your eyes. While he was away tracking his bounty, he had spent extra time on his cot and in the refresher recalling your first session together. When he saw you stand a wince, he knew then that you had done as he’d asked. Despite relieving himself of his baser thoughts about you twice before landing the RazorCrest, the area where his codpiece was, grew too small quickly. Din couldn’t just let you walk away in that state, he contemplated asking you to use your hand at the same time he would use his, but he enjoyed being in control and he wouldn’t be able to observe you if he was being pleasured as well. 

Once inside your home, you mention wanting to shower. Din rejects the idea. Assuming you are receptive, today’s plan will allow him to partake of your scent more than the faint fragrance left on this thigh guard that faded a few days after his session with you. He asks you to put on one of the green slips he requested and wait for him in your bedroom. He’ll be along in a few. To your surprise, you’d seen the beskar clad hunter carrying two black bags, he never mentioned what may be in them but you did as asked and went to just change into your slip, sitting on your bed. One of the bags Din set on your counter, the same place as he had placed the last bag of credits, this one was a bit heavier. The other bag he brought in with him and removed a blindfold he had tested on himself in the razor crest, making sure that no light would penetrate it. 

You didn’t know much about Mandalorian culture, but figured whatever was about to happen, he might be removing more of his armor and didn’t want you to see. Given they had a creed to uphold, it didn’t bother you much. You were to get on your knees on the bed and face toward your headboard. 

Din wrapped the blindfold around your eyes three times then tied it. “Sard’ika. Spread your legs but don’t get on your elbows yet.” You nodded as you felt the bed shift, his weight dipping the mattress behind you. His bare hands were present again, slipping the thin straps of your gown down, uncovering your breasts but not removing it fully. Calloused hands cupped the bottom of your breasts, supporting their weight. A small hum released from you followed by a hiss as his frigid beskar chestplate skims against your exposed back. His helmet pressed against your cheek, looking over your shoulder, admiring your pinched nipples. “Have you worn them all day mesh’la?” His deep voice resonates between your thighs, nodding, you place your hands over his ungloved ones, grateful to be touching any part of this man’s skin.

“I have Din. I was looking forward to seeing you today. I’m glad you weren’t delayed.” Your voice is coated with lust as he kneads your breasts, pressing the pads of his fingers into them. You almost missed it, but he called your name before pulling back to ask you to lean forward on your elbows. Once in position, his weight on the bed changes again and you feel the cool beskar slide between you. It feels like it may be his legs and feet, his forearms were large as well, but not as thick as his thighs. Some shuffling of fabric was heard and your hands around their way to his knees, but then slid up Din’s thighs as he pulled your hips toward him. “Din, what do you want me to do next?” You asked, the armor on his thighs was still present so he hadn’t removed it, what did he take off?

The Mandalorian had planned on doing this much later down the line. However, he still recalled the fragrance on his beskar from last week, though it had faded, he wanted to become reacquainted with it. He blindfolded you and his head was behind you, maybe he should have bound your hands too, but he was too impatient. A trait he was noticing applied to you more and more. The pressure of his helmet exhaled as did he when he removed it, it was a large risk he was taking and in some circles a violation of The Creed, but his nostrils were met with the same tangy scent he had pleasured himself to before he slept. Din placed his helmet above his head on the bed, he wouldn’t be needing it for now.

“Nothing for right now. Just let me look at your weeping cunt again. You’ll feel when you should start. You’re a smart woman Sard’ika.” His hands took hold of your ass and squeezed, happy to see his fingers disappear into your ample flesh. Din licked his lips before pushing your ass forward a bit and had an idea. He reached toward your small ring of muscle and removed your anal plug, making a small pop. 

Inspecting your asshole, he was reasonably certain that you could try out the third plug size. He reached for it out of the bag and ran it along your wet slit, making you shiver. “I believe you’re ready for this. Let me know if you feel any pain though Mesh’la.” Pressing it in slowly, he was satisfied to see just the small loop sticking out as your ring of muscle spread. You groaned heavily and were surprised to find yourself pushing back toward the plug as he inserted it. His heavy hand slapped your ass while you wiggled it. A low rumble came from his chest in the form of laughter, you leaned forward to raise your ass into their air more, searching for more pressure, you found a velvet, throbbing length press against your chest and narrowly missed your nose. 

“I don’t feel any pain. I want to have you inside of me Din.” You sung, pressing your breasts together to capture his long member between your breasts, the cold metal of the nipple clamps you still had on jingled with your movements. Your hands were able to envelope the circumference of his member, the steel of the clamps grazed his hot skin and with the voice he released you realized he sounded different. Louder, closer and without the slight electronic click you’d hear sometime in between his words. Did he remove his helmet? Is that the reason you’re wearing the blindfold? His cock dripped precum onto your breasts making it easier for you to grind them against his length. 

“Dank farrik Sard’ika, excellent, keep going mesh’la.” Din clicked his tongue prior to his hawkish nose pressing against your clit, his plush lips touched your folds, drinking your nectar in. Tawdry damp noises were heard from you both, his tongue soon slipped inside of your core, exploring the tight cavern of muscle that longed to clench around anything. On the same token, you opened your mouth and let saliva drop onto your breasts and the thick length you were stimulating yourself with. With that complete, you lowered your head to flick your tongue along the bulbous head, breathing in his musk and sweat, your hips shifted forward a bit to allow you to reach him while still massaging his cock. 

Din moved his hands down to your thighs and forced your cunt into his face, he had no more need for air. He just needed to keep lapping your fluids, swallowing them to make himself full of you. If he was lucky, his beard that scratched your slick inner thighs would still be coated with you when he put his helmet back on and he would have your scent for much longer this time. Only the sounds of the two of you gorging yourselves on each other’s heat and muffled moans were heard for a period of time that neither of you were sure of.

Surprisingly, Din climaxed first, thick ropes coating the roof of your mouth and the back of your throat, his hips buckled and his cock slowly became soft between your breasts as you drank his cum, followed by laying your head on the chilled beskar of this thigh. Your hips were rolling onto his face as he continued to sip from your pussy, with a loud cry, you spilled over his mouth, face, chin and neck. Utterly exhausted, you focus on breathing and staying awake. You didn’t want to fall asleep before he left, you wanted to say goodbye, but your body resisted your intentions. 

The bounty hunter rolled you on your back and removed the nipple clamps and the anal plug, setting them on the towel on the floor. He sat up and cleaned himself up some, leaving most of the evidence of your climax on his face before putting his helmet back on. The Mandalorian then fixed  himself back into his flight suit before replacing his codpiece. He left his gloves for last, his fingers glided up your calves, thighs, doughy belly, breasts and rested on the sides of your cheeks. Removing the blindfold, he was craving the eye contact that you’d give him. Fluttering open, you did just that, reaching for his hands with your delicate fingers tracing the rough skin over his knuckles. “Is there any more you require of me Din?” your raspy voice questioned. Din heard himself hum as it echoed in his helmet, drunk on your scent. 

“No Sard’ika. You’ve given me much this session.” His hands briefly left your face to pull your slip back up and feed your arms through the straps, cupping your cum streaked breasts. You saw him hesitate. 

“It’s fine Din. Leave them, I can wash the slip later. I’d like to leave a piece of you for a little while after you leave. Ah…unless that’s not okay with you.” It hadn’t dawned on you to ask if he was alright with seeing evidence of his work on you. He shook his head and finished pulling the emerald slip over your breasts. “Um, is there anything you want to try or do for next time?” Clearing your throat, you weren’t sure if it was the last of his cum or your own spit that you needed to move. His thumb traced your bottom lip, pressing it. One of your hands touched his forearm guard, but he interlaced his fingers with yours.

“A piece is me is fine if that’s what you desire, mesh’la. I did bring two different dildos and more lube to use but you can use them for preparation.” Her hands are warm and he doesn’t want to leave. For the first time in a long time, since he had rescued his son, he wanted to leave his helmet off. Unsure if she would approve of his face, Din could fall back on the increased amount of credits he had brought with him this time, but it would lead him to despair if you didn’t like his features. His primary reason he’d like to leave his helmet off would be to have your soft hands touch his face and map it the same way he does yours. From your lips, his digits ran over your wide nose and full eyebrows. You had long coily hair that expanded with exertion and moisture, he would need to commit it all to memory. “I will be gone for a longer period of time - about two weeks. I plan to visit the little one and take care of a few jobs.”

The prospect of Din’s absence weighed heavily on your shoulders, before this started, these sessions. You’d only wonder if you’d be able to talk to him for the few minutes you could, giving him a bounty or paying him out after confirming the client’s stipulations were met. And sure, you’d wonder what he was up to but now things were much more murky between the two of you. “I understand. Stay safe Din.” You wanted to tell him to come back but he already said he was, your eyes closed embarrassed at your thought. Din pulls away from you and picked up the toys he had set on the towel, taking them into the refresher and cleaning them, putting them into the bag he had delivered previously. He then added the two dilios and the additional lube as well. With his gloves back on, he turned to face you, sitting up at the edge of the bed, you winced and leaned to the side, taking pressure off your ass. He had given it a new stretch today. “Din. I think - think we-” 

The cool beskar of his helmet touched your forehead and stopped you from speaking. His gloved hands held your face and trailed down to your shoulders. “Sard’ika please leave it for the next session. I understand.” The Mandalorian pulled away from you for the last time before he left. The bag on the counter was heavier than the last time. You stood up to follow his cape, his heavy steps leading to your front door. Din turned and took your hand in his once more before exiting into the dry night air. “There’s much to discuss and I would like to do so when I am able to think clearly.” Unsure of what he meant you nodded.

“You’re right. That would be best. Take care.” You squeezed his hand before letting go, softly ushering him out the doorway. His back was to you he started his long walk to his ship to leave again, closing your door you sat on your couch and wondered what you’d say the next time you see him.

Previous: Session One

Next: Session Three

Space buddy tag list: @rhoorl @for-a-longlongtime @trulybetty @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @maggiemayhemnj @missladym1981 @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @morallyinept @sherala007 @yorksgirl @beabliss @daddy-dins-girl @mandoisapunk @saturn-rings-writes @magpiepills @mrsmando @djarins-cyare @goodwithcheese @fhatbhabie @beefrobeefcal @sp00kymulderr @laurfilijames @legendary-pink-dot @undercoverpena @secretelephanttattoo @megamindsecretlair @alltheglitterandtheroar @gwendibleywrites @iamasaddie @perotovar @soapjay @joels-shitty-puns @linzels-blog @i-own-loki @dindjarindiaries @sin-djarin @djarinsimp @iamafadedmoon @drawingdroid

[peachyteabuck]

cross the line (peggy carter x reader)

summary: after you’re officially coronated, your already-atypical relationship with your personal knight becomes something even more scandalous

commissioned by someone who wishes to remain anonymous 

pairing: peggy carter x reader

words: 7649

content warnings: the world’s most historically inaccurate royal au!, knight/personal guard!peggy, queen!reader, murder of a minor character, attempted murder of a main character, violence done onto the main character, virginity taking, strap on use, dubious consent, praise, i made steven grant rogers a misogynist for shits + gigs, protective!peggy, dom!peggy, sub!reader, blowjobs on strapons, manipulation

divider by @firefly-graphics​

This is your dream. This has been your dream since you knew what dreams were. Every moment of your life since the minute you unleashed your first scream was dedicated to primping and priming you until you were molded into the perfect queen.

This is your dream. As a baby, you were sequestered from everyone but the doctor, your parents, your nanny, and the wet nurse to ensure your health. You met the first person outside of that tight circle was introduced to you when you could walk. Even then, they were quarantined before and after.

As a child, you spent hours being quizzed on complex philosophy and mathematics by candlelight until your nanny begged for the tutor to stop. Being up until well before sunrise wasn’t enough: any moment you could be awake should be dedicated to meeting the same standards would-by kings were held to.

As a teenager, the focus turned to your appearance. Reading and writing were joined by a hair and make-up session. You recited factoids and roleplayed conversations with other rulers and aristocrats and constituents while you were shoved into corsets and fitted for dresses.

Your entire life has led up to this day, to this moment.

So why are you here, picking at your cuticles, as you hear your family and allies of the crown celebrating joyously? A new queen was not a frequent occurrence, especially one who reigned without a sudden, unexpected death or drought. None of that had occurred—your mother, aging and desperate for a life of her own, had informed you of her plan to abdicate the throne on the eve of your 16th birthday. It would give you two years until they’d announce, and a few more for everyone in every kingdom to adjust to the news.

You can hear your personal guard come in, the formal armor clinking as she steps. She prefers to go without (something about stealth being the best protection), but given the occasion, tradition requires her to be in full regalia.

“Are you all right, your majesty?”

You bite at your nail, pulling at the dead skin as you attempt to ground yourself. Staring off into the distance, you say nothing.

“That’s what I thought.”

Peggy had been your main guard since you were preteens. You, trying to learn politics and languages and negotiation tactics. Her, learning the ins and outs of palace protection from her mother. She was much scrawnier back then, limbs resembling the branches of a freshly planted oak tree. Peggy had bloomed since then, all muscle and confidence. She had also, over the years, become your closest confidant.

“Princess,” she says, her tone knowing. You can’t see her smirk, but it rests atop her words like moss in a pond. “Didn’t expect to find you here.”

A crash, quickly followed by bellows from amused, drunken palace goers, stops you from responding immediately.

“Don’t call me that,” you finally say with a sigh. Might as well start getting used to correcting people now, you think. Though, your tone does not have the kind of royal tone you’d often heard from your mother. “I am now your queen and you will address me as such.”

She smiles softly, nodding just a little. “My apologies, your majesty, you were a princess for a very long time, and so it will take effort to get used to.”

You don’t disagree—it’s still hard to remind yourself to respond to the title when it’s called. You start to speak, wringing your hands every so slightly. “Margaret-“

“Please, your majesty,” she interrupts you, raising one hand to her chest. “You mustn’t. Now that you are queen, I think it’s best to refer to me as Peggy. It’s what my mother called me.”

As you roll the name over your tongue, the sounds feel like a tough cut of meat between your teeth. Still, it seems important to her, and given all she’s done for you over the years, you feel as though you owe her. It’s then, as you run through what it would be like to call for her in front of the rest of the court, that you let yourself smile just a little.

“It’s very improper,” you say quietly, as though someone could hear you admit to entertaining such a thought.

Peggy just grins—big and toothy. You ignore the way your heart swells at the sight. “That it is.”

“And what would the queen mother think?”

“What the old crone doesn’t know won’t hurt her.”

It’s hard to suppress a laugh in your state, the giggles overwhelming your defenses within seconds. It sometimes feels as though your mother is a lighthouse at the center of the sea, locating ships with horrifying precision. Queen or not, the thought of her knowing you’re deviating from her desires spikes fear in your gut. A terrifying woman, it’s easy to treat her the same way one treats a prison guard.

But then you think of your mother—not the queen, but the little bit of her that exists outside of the demands of royal life. She’d been queen for years when she was your age, your grandmother succumbing during the birth of her youngest brother. Within hours after he entered the world, your uncle became an orphan and your mother became a queen. Their roles overtook them, both of them mourning as they grew into their roles. It was your mother’s job to rule. It was his job to remain as far from the public eye as possible.

“Are you okay, your majesty?”

Peggy places her hand on your shoulder. You can feel her thumb rubbing into the sore muscles there, and you wish she could apply that pressure to every inch of your skin. She allows you to sit with your non-reply, the nice quiet a welcome change from the cacophony of noise. She looks you up and down a few times, noticing the way you wring your hands and how you bite at your bottom lip.

You don’t know it, but she watches you in the same way she did when you were teenagers. She couldn’t stop, watching as you both grew to fit the titles you were expected to live up to as adults.

But she can’t do anything about it—not now. Not until the time is right.

“May I?”

You nod.

She takes the crown from your head, holding it gingerly as she inspects it. You were able to design your own crown given the circumstances. It all had to be kept under a veil of secrecy, of course—the jewelers and blacksmiths were sequestered until everything had finished, and even then were sworn to secrecy for fear of beheading.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” You sound more mournful than you intended. It really is beautiful, is the worst part. A half-circle peaking in the middle, pearls topping each peak. At the center, swinging as your knight holds it in her calloused hands, rests a dangling cameo made of ivory and obsidian.

“An orchid?” Peggy asks, that same smirk as before teasing at her lips.

You nod. “It represents love and thoughtfulness. My mother’s favorite.”

Peggy hmms, turning it in her hands again. The gold shimmers in the low candlelight, catching as the fat flames flicker. “It looks like a cunt.”

You just shrug, unable to comment on the likeness. Many of the knights were crude, almost alarmingly so, but the only experience you had with your center had been your monthly bleeding and the occasional anatomy lesson from an exasperated nanny.

“Yours looks prettier, though.”

You blink once, twice; bewildered by her comment. Any witty retort you might have made drowns in the confusion, your brow furrowing and heart racing.

“Wh…what did you just say?”

“I said,” she moves to where you are, her nose brushing against yours from how close you are. “Your pussy is much prettier than any gem you could put in front of me.”

You’re not sure what to say—mouth agape as you attempt to process what she’s said. Though neither of you had addressed whatever it was that crackled between you, neither of you had done much to dampen it, either.

“What would your royal friends think, hm?” Peggy moans, a slight laugh coating her teasing. “I wonder how the rest of the court would react to you defiling the good name of your foremothers.”

She knows what she’s doing—poking and prodding at the sense of duty you’ve shared since you were old enough to understand the importance of longevity to the royal lineage. You’ve spent your entire life dedicated to the well-being of the crown, allowing your family and their most trusted allies to contort you into the perfect royal to lead your kingdom. It’s your purpose, it’s your only skill, it’s your only option.

If your mother had remained queen, she would have picked out some nice man for you to marry. A younger brother perhaps, whose power wouldn’t rival your own but still allowed your kingdom to gain some sort of leverage or asset. Normally these are done in childhood, sometimes they’re signed as soon as the sex is confirmed in the birthing room. You had escaped such a fate, in contrast to your sisters. Escaped only to find yourself in another possible trap.

“Retiring for the night?” Your head shoots up to see your mother’s lady-in-waiting, a much older woman who’d been in the castle since your mother’s teenage years, standing in the doorway. It’s then that you realize that you are tired, and move to rub at the dark circles under your eyes, not unlike the children of various royals whose bedtimes were hours ago. The rush of emotions, the pounding heartbeat, the awareness of your entire body…it feels as though you had been running through a field with reckless abandon and very suddenly met the kingdom’s sturdiest oak tree.

“Yes, I believe so.”

Her face softens, memories of your mother’s coronation rising. The woman has always said you look just like your mother did at your age, something you’ve never been able to fully process. “I understand. The queen requests-“she pauses for just a second before correcting herself. “The queen mother requests to see you before you disappear.”

You smile, nodding in affirmation. Before you can dust off your dress and stand, Peggy offers you her hand for stability. Your refusal dies into a hesitation when you realize a witness remains.

As you stand, she pulls you to her quick enough to make it look as if you had fallen. “I’ll meet you in your room, your majesty,” she whispers lowly into your ear. Before you can react, she straightens you into a standing position. Louder, she speaks again. “Now come along so we can find your darling mother.”

Lucky for you, no one has become caught in one of her famous conversations that can last for an hour or more.

“He and his guard will be staying for the next week or so,” she grins. It’s that real kind of smile, one that hasn’t graced your mother’s face in a long, long time. It stings, just a little.

You attempt to mirror her face, but you can feel how vacant your eyes look. “That’s wonderful, Mother. I’m glad such a close ally of the family will be our first guests after our coronation.”

The older woman pointedly ignores the flatness of your tone. “He’s wished to speak with you before he leaves.”

Great, you think. Lord Rogers is…an interesting man, certainly. Famously easy to anger and hard-headed, he only seems to care about women and ale. More accurately, he cares about women who are willing to put up with him while he drinks ale. Neither are hobbies of yours and so he has decided you are not worth respecting.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

Your hands shake ever slightly as you find your way back to your quarters, the ringing in your ears drowning out the harshness of your steps. You nod to the two guards—Natasha and Valkyrie—who open the hefty door for you. There, sitting in your vanity chair, lies your loyal knight.

You’re unsure of what you should say, and so you say nothing.

“I’ve wanted you for as long as I’ve known what it is to want,” Peggy says, still seated.

“My reputation would never recover if anyone found out,” is all you can reply. Maybe the thought of your legacy crumbling would knock some sense into her.

The woman across from you just smiles. “That was when you were simply a princess. But you are queen now, so we’re free to do as we wish.”

You step back, watching with wide eyes as she moves to undo her ceremonial armor. Each time the metal pieces hit each other, you flinch at the small clang. The sound of metal reminds you far too much of violence, and you’ve never been one for that.

“Queens still have reputations, Peggy,” your protest is weak…but is a protest, nonetheless. Affairs like this could ruin a royal, send them tumbling into a well of scandal that would threaten the power your family had held for generations. If anyone learned of what was happening, you could be dethroned, excommunicated, possibly even executed. “Big, consequential ones.”

You can feel your mouth dry when she removes her undershirt, revealing her bare chest. Bruises, scars, and scrapes litter the skin, but it only adds to her natural allure.

When all you do is stare, she smiles ever-so-slightly. “Has no one educated you on matters of the flesh, your majesty?”

Part of you wants to deny you understand what she asks—but the rest of you is just confused. Most of the eligible bachelors in your court steered clear of your bath, too terrified of your mother to make any sort of romantic gesture. The allure of bedding a royal was far outweighed by your mother’s ruthless reputation. When a man was found kissing up the neck of your younger sister, one of his hands at the small of her back, he was sent to work at a proxy farm hundreds of miles away, rumored to be herding sheep with just one hand.

No one ever seemed worth the risk of losing them.

She speaks as she removes the cloth pants, your eyes drawn to the slight bulge at the apex of her thighs that the harder armor covered. “It’s an honor to be your first, your majesty.”

As her pants hit the floor, you can feel the air being knocked from your lungs. There, between her legs, rests a sort of…toy. Long, thick, tapering a little before flaring out again.  It looks like what the other ladies of the court had described after their nights of passion with visitors from other kingdoms.

“You’ll take me in your mouth soon, my queen,” she reaches into the bag at her side, producing a small, unlabeled jar that reminds you of the potions witches sometimes sell at the markets held near the castle. She pops the cork, spreading the thick, clear substance over the bulbous head between her legs. You’re not sure what she means, but the heat in your belly spreads along your spine, nonetheless. When her length is fully covered in it, she takes your hand, the scented oils from the morning having soaked beneath the surface, leaving only supple, perfumed skin in its wake.

“Here,” she practically whispers, her voice quiet but filled with what sounds like excitement. “Wrap your hands like this…”

Your knight guides you, her hand over yours as you wrap your fingers around it. It’s a strange feeling, but certainly not unwelcome. You follow her motions, moving up and down and twisting your wrist right before you reach the top. Peggy watches enraptured, her eyes locked on where your hands meet. It’s easy for you to presume she can’t feel what you’re doing, certainly not even witches could combine this material with the flesh of a human. But, with the way your knight’s lips part, the way her breathy moans fill the room…you’re not sure.

Her other hand, once curled into a fist at her side, now cups the back of your head firmly. “Lick the tip, your majesty,” she instructs. At any other time, you’d hesitate, but the lightheadedness that’s come over you silences your protests. Ever so lightly, you lick over where your hand had avoided. Your open mouth gives Peggy the opportunity to buck her hips, pushing the object past your lips. She takes care not to push it too far, merely pressing it onto your tongue so you would become used to the weight.

She’s been waiting for this day since she first saw you, since her mother told her of the duties that were passed down their family line for generations; since she had seen you studying French in the garden in your pink spring dress. She’d loved you for years—decades, even. Though she’d never wish it, if the Goddess took her tomorrow, she’d die a woman fulfilled.  

Peggy grabs at your hair, pulling you until you stand. She takes the position you just had, falling to her knees before burrowing herself under the hem of your skirt. Before you can ask what she’s doing, she unbuckles your shoes and pulls down your chemise. Too stunned to do anything else, you step out of them on instinct.

“Good girl,” Peggy purrs, leaving kisses along your thighs before standing back up. “My perfect girl.”

You lock eyes for a moment, expecting the other to say something, anything. When nothing comes, Peggy locks her lips with yours, leading you backwards until you’re pushed onto the bed. She’s practiced this many times, an old pillow covered in one of your nightgowns folded in half so she could smell your signature perfume as words of praise and promise tumbled from behind her lips. Just as she imagined, she parts your legs to find the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen.

I was right, she thinks. Much prettier than any crown.

“Oh Godess,” Peggy groans as she finally pushes inside of you. “You cannot imagine how long I’ve waited to do this-“

You moan as she enters you slowly, purposefully. Blood drains from your fingers as you grip the sheets with all you have, Peggy holding your legs open as you adjust to the feeling of her inside of you. She gives you a moment, tracing the calloused pads of her around your nipples, down your quivering stomach, and back up again.

“I-“ you’re not sure what you’re supposed to say, or if you’re supposed to say anything at all. “I-“

“Shhh, your majesty, Shh,” she reaches around to cup one hand over your mouth, the rough palm pressed against your lips. “Not all the servants are asleep. I don’t want anyone else to hear you sing for me. Not just yet.”

Your eyes widen as you realize what she’s saying. Each frenzied thought is broken as she pulls back before entering once more. Every time she retreats and leaves you empty and wanting, her pace quickening steadily.

“Wh-what do you-“

Peggy just smiles, watching as your eyes roll to the back of your head. It’s as though she’s watching your thoughts leak from your ears, your head falling onto the covers as pleasure overtakes you. She thought about flipping you over, about grabbing you by your hair and fucking you until you couldn’t walk. But she knew she had to start you off slowly, carefully as to not scare you off. Soon enough, though, she’d be able to fuck you in all the ways she’d fantasized; with her fingers inside you right next to her cock, with her hand around your neck, with her telling you the ways she’d fill you and how beautiful you’d look round with her kin. You were both young, and with your newfound power, had plenty of time to learn what you both liked best.

“Don’t worry, my beautiful queen,” she murmured into your neck. She had also imagined fucking you front of all the other knights in her tight circle of guards, showing the rest of them what they could have if they continued to pledge their loyalty. They’re all just as protective of you as she is already, but with queenhood comes increased threats that require increased vigilance. “I’ll explain in due time.”

It's then that she reaches down, moving to rub small, staccato circles at the most sensitive part of you. It’s a part you’ve explored before, under the thick covers and once everyone had presumed you asleep. That, though, was nothing like this—none of the fireworks, none of the way she grips your thighs to pull you back after each thrust.

This is what you imagine being struck by lightning feels like, the way your skin crackles every time she touches you. The difference, though, is that you’ve never heard of survivors wanting more. You’d never imagined anything feeling as good as this, as though those late-night explorations and giggles shared between princesses could feel so magnificent. Had everyone else felt like this, when they had indulged in matters of the flesh? Why had everyone kept such a thing from you?

“I’m, I’m-“ You’re not sure what’s happening, coil inside of you tightening with every passing second. Every muscle in your body tenses as you silently plea for Peggy for…well, truthfully, you don’t know what you’re pegging for. All you know is that you want it.

“Oh, your majesty,” Peggy smirks as she continues to pound into you, continuing to rub at the apex of your pussy. “Do it, baby, let go for me. Allow me the gratification of seeing you let go.”

You’re not sure what’s supposed to happen until it does, and a white-hot pleasure explodes inside of you. It reminds you of rolling down a hill, or being on horseback while it gallops. This is different, though, a nearly indescribable feeling lighting your skin ablaze. The feeling inches away little by little, your legs beginning to twitch. Peggy slows before pulling away completely, collapsing next to you as the toy prods at your leg.

“I’ll always watch over my queen,” she says as you pant, looking up at the ceiling of your room you had looked as a thousand times before. The mural your mother had painted for you hadn’t changed at all, but you…you were transformed. “No matter what.”

A week or so passes without incident. A week of your entire body on edge, of watching your personal knight as she stood in corners and examines perimeters. It’s a small part of you, but nevertheless, a quiet voice in the back of your brain shamed you in the way you’d imagine your mother would if she found out.

How did it end up like this? You, the most powerful person in your kingdom, bending at the will of your closest guard as though she had the magic to move mountains. A shudder ripples its way through your muscles as you imagine a world where she was blessed with the connection to the Mother Goddess.  She was the only one who could grant the special few the ability to harness the magic found in the soil of your land, and it was a gift to you that she hadn’t given Peggy that power.

“Your majesty,” Peggy says from across the room, her affect flat in the proper way staff are meant to address members of your family. “Lord Steven Rogers is here to see you.”

She steps into the room and to the side, making room for the man and his personal guard. James, if your memory is correct, watches over the interaction with the same stoic silence as Peggy. He’s large, much different than the leaner bodies of the women who make up the castle’s defenses. James fills the doorway, nearly having to duck just a tad. What really scares you is the way he stares, his jaw set and his eyes bearing into you. You make every effort to avoid his gaze as Steve sits down.

“I have something to share with you,” he says with a boyish smile. He slides a small, wooden box across the desk that you make no move to open. “But I’d like for us to be alone. No guards.”

As if he can sense your trepidation, he adds, “Just to put us on even footing.”

“If my security cannot be in the room while this information is shared,” you tremble, ever so slightly, as you push the box back towards him. You hope he doesn’t notice, but something in his keen eyes says there’s very little he doesn’t see. “Then I don’t want to hear it at all. And I certainly wouldn’t want your security here as well.”

“Oh, princess,” his words are tinged with a low, condescending chuckle. It reminds you of your father when he knows he’s bested you at chess—the same stupid, smug look painted across his face; the same infuriating smile playing at the very corners of his lips. As a child, you thought he was at least trying to hide the fact he had such a large competitive advantage, saving your young ego from being crushed too early.

As you stand here, though, a single eyebrow raised and the inside of your cheek between your teeth to keep you from lashing out…you understand it is merely a poor attempt to hide the glee of besting a person one views as deeply and utterly inferior.

You grit your teeth, clenching your fists as your side as you resist the urge to slap him with the back of your hand. As a royal, your mother had never expressed herself in such a rash manner. You hadn’t even held the crown for a week and were on the brink of putting the entire royal reputation in jeopardy.

What a failure.

“I am queen now and you know it,” you eventually bite out, face red hot with the knowledge you’d taken much too long to respond.

Lord Rogers smiles in the same way you imagine snakes or wolves do when they’ve spotted injured prey. “Let’s have this conversation again when you’ve calmed down. Tomorrow, perhaps?”

You paint a tense smile over your face, attempting to hide your distaste. “Tomorrow it is. I look forward to seeing you then.”

Peggy watches as your lady-in-waiting undoes your corset, her nimble fingers freeing you from its confines. Normally you liked your corsets—they improve your posture so much even your mother doesn’t comment on it—but that and the coronation dress weighed on you in an unfortunately literal way.

“My queen,” she nearly whispers. You expect her tone to be light and airy, and are startled by the more somber tone. “I need to speak with you.”

You blink once, twice. Why not here? Your face says, gesturing towards the lady-in-waiting as subtly as you can. Peggy’s stoicism remains unchanged.

“Give us a moment, Katherine, please,” you tell her, keeping your eye contact.

The dark-haired girl nods once, bidding you goodnight and curtsying before dashing away. She’s odd, that one, but so charming you choose not to comment when she’s around.

When the door shuts behind her, you turn to your knight, nodding just a little to prompt her.

Instead of speaking, though, she remains quiet, an obvious discontent washing over her face. A nagging feeling at the back of your heart wants to go to her, comfort her, bring out all the bad feelings so you can tame them. But you’re a queen, and she’s not a child, so you stay where you are—silent, stoic, painfully waiting for her to open her mouth and tell you what’s wrong.

When she does, though, you wish she hadn’t.

“I don’t like Lord Rogers very much,” is all Peggy says. She looks you dead in the eyes, jaw set. You wait for her to continue—to rant and scream and scowl.

You allow yourself a moment to sigh, the exhale ending in a dry laugh. Peggy narrows her eyes as you do so, tilting her head ever so slightly. “I’m not joking.”

It certainly sounds like it, though. She knows just as well as you how court politics works, how every single person in this castle has every single one of their decisions shrouded in a cloak of constrictive diplomacy. In a country situated at the center of the continent, a smile and a few lines of small talk are sometimes all there is between economic prosperity and absolute devastation.  

Speaking ill of Lord Rogers would effectively be the same as threatening to banish Lord Rogers from your castle. And banishing Lord Rogers would be the same as slitting the throat of his wife in their marriage bed. War? Guaranteed. Your chances of winning? Slim.

“Well, you certainly can’t be serious.” You’re outwardly scoffing now, rolling your eyes, and turning away from her without so much as a half-hearted excuse. There’s nothing in you that wants to fight; who wants to risk it all, fight the status quo, and make a new world from the ashes of the old one. You have never been very rebellious, and that instinct for conflict avoidance will serve you well if you want yourself, and your kingdom, to survive.

You expect your beloved knight to deflect. You expect her to do as you would’ve done: assume someone with loose lips was listening and you’d need to immediately play it off as some kind of nightmare and distance yourself from any ounce of culpability.

She doesn’t, though. She doesn’t move an inch.

“I’m serious, your majesty.” Peggy continues to meet your tense gaze, her own eyes free from any regret, or fear, or anything. Strong as a stone, and just as agreeable. Her face remains stoic, her sharp jaw set. “I would never lie to you.”

Red bleeds into the edges of your vision, the vision of your delicate legacy crashing to the floor like an antique teapot, crashing into a million, unfixable pieces and cutting into the bottoms of your soft feet. “Absolutely not,” you growl, your fists clenching in the light fabric of your underdress. “You know why that’s impossible, so certainly you wouldn’t be foolish enough to entertain the idea of saying it out loud.”

She still doesn’t budge. “I can’t lie to you, your majesty.” She repeats. “I have a duty to protect you-“

Now you bark out a laugh, the sharp descending into something darker quickly as you continue. “Protect!?” You reach across your abdomen to hold your sore stomach, glad you were able to get out of your corset before she opened her mouth. It feels like ages later when you’re able to catch your breath, the words still breathy as tears fall down your cheeks. “If anyone heard you, they’d have my head under a blade fast than you can cut the limbs off of any one person. You believing this is some roundabout way to fulfill the oath you took when you were given your sword is such horseshit you should be back shoveling it in stalls.”

You’re ready to continue—to bare your teeth and tear at her skin until she heeds your warning. Fangs—you wish you had fangs—so she’d know how ready you are to tear flesh from bone just to keep her from continuing. So that she’d know you’re also dangerous, and willing to fight if it meant you remained in power.

“Get out of here,” you snarl. “Tell Katherine to come back in. I don’t want to see you until I need escorting to the chancery tomorrow. Do you understand?”

Peggy’s face doesn’t change as she responds before turning and leaving. “Yes, your majesty. I will see you in the morning.”

Neither of you speak, you following just behind her in silence. The blanket of quiet remains as you enter, a servant having already lit the candles that illuminate the room. As you requested, Peggy remains just outside the thick door, only entering when Lord Rogers does.

He seems pleased you’d followed his directions, and it makes your skin crawl. If you had your way, you’d never deal with him at all—outsourcing all communication through a third party. Unfortunately, the Rogers name is powerful in this region, and a queen is nothing without her allies.

“So,” he sits across from you, separated only by your desk. You move to stand near him, eyeing the same box he had yesterday. “I’ve come to talk about the land deeds your mother signed over to me at the very end of her reign.”

Your brow furrows as you reach forward to grab at what he brought with him. Inside are…bones? They’re small but thick, with etchings in an alphabet you do not understand. “What are these?”

He scoffs, as though you should understand what riddle he’s piecing together. You resist the urge to remind him you can speak five languages, and read even more. If there was a language you didn’t recognize, you’d be going to the royal translators…not a man who’s been trying to de-throne your family since the day he could ride a horse. “They’re proof my family has had ownership over the lands I’m asking about since before your family name ever existed. You simply raise both your brows, still looking through the box.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

But you don’t, you really don’t. There’s nothing anyone’s ever told you about Lord Roger’s land deeds besides the fact he has a lot of them.  His family’s been around for as long as yours has and has amassed a similar amount of wealth and power. He controls several important ports, his castle is nearly as large as yours.

It hits you then, what he’s doing.

Originally both lineages were at war for the last few thousand years, moving borders and people and livestock as their whims changed. They’d both fought to control the kingdom that’s encompassed the land it had for centuries, the deciding factor being one last territory that a woman four or so generations ago had seized during a tense buyout the Rogers lineage had always claimed was faked. That’s the only territory his family had ever asked for, something your mother had spent many nights telling you about. They’d tried everything to get it back, from raids to paying witnesses to give false accounts of the treaty signing. This was another, even cheaper shot at their goal—to overtake what your family had held so dear.

It’s easy to see now that the markings on the bones show tallies of cattle losses in a shorthand developed by farmers, indicating his family would’ve been working the land after the year the agreement had gone into place. This, of course, means absolutely nothing.

You chew your lip as you examine them, building up the courage to speak. “Lord Rogers, I am not sure this indicates anything meaningful. Many families work on land they do not own. This isn’t proof at all your family has any right over the land, or over the kingdom”

As you look closely at the engravings once more, “You stupid little bitch!”

You don’t have time to turn around; to slap him across the face, or find a letter opener to remind him of your years of self-defense training. All you have time to do is cry out as his palm meets your cheek, your screams becoming muffled as he grabs the back of your neck and turns you around so he can pin you against the desk.

“Peggy!” you try to yell, but all that comes out is a choked sound.

“You will give my family what we are owed. I will kill you if I have to.” His words are practically growls, holding you with one hand as he reaches into his coat. As you struggle, he flashes a thin, sharp knife in front of your eyes.

“Please-“ you kick at him, figurines your mother had collected (and you hadn’t yet had the heart to have a servant collect and placed in her quarters) fall to the hard ground. Some shatter immediately, others skidding across the floor. “Please don’t kill me I-“

“Shut the fuck up.” He flips the weapon in his hands, as if he was showing it off. “Now hold still, this doesn’t need to hurt. There are a few spots I can hit that’ll have you bleeding out in seconds. But if you want it to hurt, I can-“

He doesn’t have time to finish his sentence before he’s thrown off of you, slammed into the nearest wall. You’re partially thrown with him, but Peggy’s arms keep you from traveling the same distance. One of the other guards, Valkyrie, holds him against the wall as Peggy drops to the floor to hold you. Other guards you can’t remember the names for flood in behind her, holding his arms behind his back and dragging him away.

“You’re okay, my queen,” Peggy whispers. “You’re going to be okay.”

She scans you for harm, eyes wide as she checks for broken bones or open wounds. A few spots are tender. One, most notably, at the place the table made contact with your abdomen. Still, nothing that can’t be healed with a few days of rest and (most important) nothing that will leave horrific and long-lasting scars. Katherine comes in soon after, taking you from Peggy and ushering you across the castle and to your bed. She fetches you something to drink and a cool cloth, fluffing your pillows once your heart has slowed enough that exhaustion replaces adrenaline.

It all happens so fast, you don’t have time to question why all of those women were close enough to help in the first place.

Peggy stands behind Katherine, watching as she comforts you.

As your eyelids grow heavy, she moves to pet your hair, leaning down to murmur into your temple. “I’ll be back, my queen.” You don’t hear it, sleep long since having pulled you into its arms. “I promise I’ll be back soon.”

She slips out of the room, silently exiting out of your area of the castle before finding a door hidden behind a tapestry depicting a field of poppies, your grandmother’s favorite flowers. The secret paths had been built the same time the castle was, meant to be a way for those that served in the castle to enter the servant’s quarters without disturbing the royals. Fifty or so years ago, though, too many servants were living there, and in an effort to stave rebellion, an addendum to the castle was built. Now, where some had lived, slept, and ate, lay abandoned rooms far from the eyes of royalty.

The staircase is narrow, so narrow she has to hold her sword in front of her. She’s silent as she navigates the maze-like corridor, the path to her destination an easy show of muscle memory. The door, unassuming and identical to the rest of them, opens to a scene she’s been wishing for since she first saw Lord Rogers look you up and down all those years ago.

Five women, two on each side and one immediately behind, flank the man that sits tied to an old chair from the servants’ quarters. It’s been used for these sorts of nights before, as evidenced by the scuffed wood that marks where pieces of leather kept one’s limbs in place. They fight, they always do. For Peggy, it’s part of the fun. No sense in killing something without a desire to live.

She stands as the man sits, his face already bruised and bloody. Split lip, a cut through his right brow. Every time he spits it’s tinged pink. Even though she wishes they had held off until she arrived, Peggy wishes it was redder. Nothing matters more to her than the fact he remains in pain.

“Do you know what the punishment is for laying a hand on Her Majesty?” she asks.

He looks pathetic in the low candlelight, she thinks. He’s over six feet, covered in lean muscle and scars. She can see every pitiful inch of him—she instructed the other royal guards to strip him down when they grabbed him from his plush bed once all the royals had retired for the night. He was surprisingly easy to overpower, according to the message she received from the guards, delivered via a squire who had an affinity for staying up much too late. He was fast and, more importantly, quiet on his feet. Both necessary to avoid being caught. While many of the knights in this kingdom were women, it’s easy to see how his skills would do him well in the profession.

“You’ll never get away with this,” he spits out.

Peggy smirks, small laughs escaping from behind the others’ hands. She takes a moment to allow the others to collect themselves (and to give herself some time to savor the rage that washes over his face as he realizes they’re all laughing at him.

“Well,” she says eventually. “One of us tied to a chair right now, and it isn’t any of us, so…”

He snarls, reminding Peggy of one of the guard dogs that roam the farms around the castle. They look very similar, in a way—strong jaw, barred teeth, a little grimy from their misadventures. Lord Rogers lacks something that would shrink the gap between them. Those dogs, as innocent as they sometimes look, would defend their flock with their lives; she’s seen them ward off mountain lions to protect the sheep they’d grown up with.

Peggy doesn’t think he’d defend anyone other than himself.

Lord Rogers doesn’t know it (and, given his condition, he may never found out), but his personal knight was given an option: either leave, change his name, and abandon the Rogers lineage…or die trying to defend the bloodline he swore to secure.

Needless to say, he chose the latter, and his various body parts are being fed to pigs at the far end of the castle’s main farm. Kamala offered to do that, the young girl eager to be involved but not old enough to secure herself to the heart of the action. Truthfully, Peggy found the entire endeavor useless given they sent his head to Lord Rogers’ wife in an unlabeled box. It should arrive by the end of the month, giving them enough time to do what needs to be done.

“Do you confess?” Natasha asks, her sword secured in her belt. Peggy only enlisted the guards she believed were level-headed enough to follow her lead. Normally, she’s all right with those she relies on going rogue—she trusts them for a reason—but tonight requires a very specific form of precision.

Steven just scoffs. “Confess to what, exactly?”

“We know what happened with the Queen,” Jane says, her tone flat. “We know what you did to her.”

The man laughs the kind of fake, sarcastic laugh Peggy had come to loathe from him. “That bitch had it coming. She’s hiding something from me, just like her cunt m-”

He is interrupted quickly by the back of Peggy’s hand. It throws him off, stunning him

“Confess.” One of them say, calmly.

“Fuck you!” Lord Rogers will scream back. Unfortunately, it seems to have only quieted him for just a moment.

Each denial is met with a similar reaction.

This time, it’s Carol punching him so hard that he starts to spit out blood afterward. The time after that, it’s Monica carving out leg muscles with a farrier’s knife. After that, it’s Wanda flattening his fingers with a hammer. His body, morphing into some monstrous, destroyed thing, is tormented with every broken breath he takes. A slight wheeze tinges each exhale.

Peggy watches him, watches as the women she trusts with your life take him apart piece by piece. At the end of the night, long before the morning rises, he will be mangled to the point of no return before one of them gives him the undue mercy of ending his life. This was the plan, even if she had no desire to watch him receive such an undeserved gift. Originally, she’d wanted to keep him alive for days and show you her handiwork…but a stern conversation with Gamora had ended that conversation. Her magic gave her the kind of sense a brutish knight lacked, Peggy thought.

She steps back, tossing the hefty stick to Carol, who catches it. “Do what you need to do,” she says to no one in particular. “I’ve got what I need.”

Steven tugs at his restraints, the panic in his eyes palpable despite being nearly swollen shut. “You bitch! Let me out of here!”

Peggy just laughs, not bothering to face him as she walks away. The Lord’s pleas silence as she shuts the door behind her, deep screams becoming fainter and fainter as she sneaks down the corridor once more. She retraces her path, fire in her veins making the trip much shorter this time around. Before she knows it, she’s back in bed with you, tracing the indents your pillow’s creases have made on your cheeks.

“Peggy?” you murmur, your tired brow furrowing. Sleep rests heavy on your slurred speech, exhaustion still wracking your bones.

She shushes you, tucking herself under the covers. When you move over to give her unnecessary room, she merely grabs your hips to pull you back. When you return to your original spot still deep in the throws of sleep, Peggy lets a small smile escape from behind her teeth.

“Got a surprise for you when you wake up, baby,” she whispers. “Just go to sleep for now. Everything will be okay when you wake up.”

[sensitiveandhungry]

Shelter

changbin x afab reader

2.7k words

fluff, smut, established relationship

content warnings: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. past traumas (unspecified), self confidence issues & trust issues if you squint, lots and lots of pet names (jagiya, baby, dove, angel, love), mutual masturbation, no real sub/dom dynamic, protected sex, oral (f receiving), lingerie, slight nipple/breast play?, so very vanilla and soft and fluffy, one usage of y/n (yes that is a warning and yes i will die on that hill)

a/n: hihi, this is my first attempt at both smut and a full length fic. please enjoy!

This fic was influenced by the songs "Yeoreum's heart" by Chung Seung Hyun & the song "Shelter" by Heejin

Changbin was unlike any other man you had had any sort of relationship with. He was gentle. He asked for consent. He didn’t need to know your past traumas to know he needed to be slow. He took no as an answer without batting an eye. He was so respectful. When you met and and as you were getting to know each other, you waited for weeks for the other shoe to drop. For him to make an unwanted move on you, lose his temper, hurt you, ghost you. But every single day, Changbin surprised you over and over again with just how good he was.

Months passed, and you officially became a couple. A year passed and you moved in with him. Every day you would go to classes and he would go to work, and in the evenings you would have dinner together and cuddle watching movies. You had begun to learn in this past year to love and be loved. Oftentimes you needed reassurance of Changbin’s love, and every time he comforted you without hesitation. He had managed to understand you in a way no one else could. But at least you had stopped waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

Months passed, and you officially became a couple. A year passed and you moved in with him. Every day you would go to classes and he would go to work, and in the evenings you would have dinner together and cuddle watching movies. You had begun to learn in this past year to love and be loved. Oftentimes you needed reassurance of Changbin’s love, and every time he comforted you without hesitation. He had managed to understand you in a way no one else could. But at least you had stopped waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

Changbin had the patience of a saint. Despite living together you had actually never gone beyond soft makeout sessions and sleeping in the same bed, due to past traumas you hadn’t been able to move beyond, and Changbin assured you every time you brought it up that it was more than okay. That he would wait lifetimes to be with you in the most intimate ways. After being together for so long, you felt ready to take the next step.

All of this brought you to today. It was a Friday night, and you had gotten off of work early to prepare a simple but nice date at your shared townhome. You showered, shaved, and styled your hair. After putting on some light makeup, you made your way to the small box you had shoved in the back corner of your closet. It contained a white lacy lingerie set that hugged your curves and fit your body perfectly. You took your time putting it on and admiring yourself in the mirror. You were nervous from excitement, but there was an undercurrent of determination. You were ready. You threw a smoky blue slip dress on top of the set and went into the kitchen to prepare dinner. Right after you had finished setting the table and lighting a few candles, you heard the jingling of keys at your front door. A strum of excitement went through you and landed straight in your core.

Changbin opened the door and kicked off his shoes before calling out, “Jagiya! I’m home!” Looking up from his feet, he saw you standing right in front of him. “Oh hi baby, I didn’t see you.” He gave you a kiss and then spun you around, giving him the full effect of the dress you wore. “All of this for me?”

“Yes baby but there’s more! Come,” you pulled him by the hand into the kitchen, spinning around with your arms wide once Changbin followed you in. “Tada!!” You gave a massive grin. 

“Love, what is this for? Did I forget our anniversary? Is it someone's birthday? … Is it my birthday?” Changbin stood looking at the entire setup, candles adorning shelves and the table, a vase of daisies in the center. 

“No Binnie.” You giggled. “I just wanted to do something nice, have a little date together at home.” Changbin was still staring at you in awe with lovestruck eyes. You shuffled around nervously before gesturing towards the table. “Should we sit?”

Changbin seemed to escape whatever mind hole he had dug himself into enough to respond, “Oh yes! Yes, of course. It looks delicious, dove. Thank you so much for doing this.” 

He hurriedly pulled out your chair and situated you before sitting down himself. You both silently dug into the food you had cooked. Changbin was obviously distracted by something, and you were constantly fidgeting out of anticipation. “Is it good, Bin? I tried a new recipe, I wasn’t sure if I seasoned it enough-”

“Yes baby it’s perfect. I’m enjoying it, I really am.” He finally made eye contact with you, grinning, knowing you deserved his full attention and he was failing at giving it. You just looked perfect. Truly stunning. Of course he had seen you dressed up before, but there was something different, a new air about you. Confidence? Mixed with nerves or excitement? Changbin wasn’t entirely sure what was going on but he was certain of the snugness he was starting to feel in his pants after seeing you in that dress; your hair and your makeup, skin glowing softly in the light of the candles. You smiled back at him, love in your eyes. You finished your meal in companionable silence, stolen glances happening more than either of you would ever admit. 

After the dishes had been cleared and washed, Changbin gestured to your shared bedroom. “I’m going to have a quick shower and then we can cuddle. Pick out a movie while I’m gone, yeah?” He asked. You could only give a nod before he quickly pecked your forehead and disappeared into the bathroom, leaving you standing in the middle of the kitchen. 

You decided now was the time to act. You quickly walked to your room as soon as you heard the ensuite bathroom door shut, slipping out of your dress and throwing it on a chair. You only gave yourself a few seconds to look in the mirror before climbing on the bed, unsure of how you should wait for Changbin to come out of the shower. You finally settled on kneeling in the middle of the bed, legs slightly spread and hands in your lap. 

Changbin on the other hand, was borderline panicking. He braced himself against the icy stream of water pelting against his skin in a futile attempt to calm his raging boner. He kept telling himself it was just a dress. That he needed to get himself together enough to act normal during your movie nights. But it wasn’t just a dress. It was you. And he loved you. Despite your constant worrying, you kept Changbin more than satisfied in your relationship. He had caught you once or twice humping a pillow, whimpering and sobbing as you tried desperately to reach your high when you thought he wasn't home. And Changbin had jerked off to the sound of you in his head more times than he’d like to count. What he would do to be able to have his way with you, draw those noises and more from your mouth, make you cum on his tongue, his fingers, his cock. But he knew he needed to be patient, slow. He was willing to die waiting for you to let him have you in the way he desperately craved. So he’d lived off of taking cold showers almost daily. Morning or night, jacking off when he could. 

When the acceptable amount of time for taking a shower had come and gone, Changbin gave up and shut off the water, choosing to simply ignore his throbbing erection. He quickly toweled off and put on loose gray sweatpants, opting to go shirtless. When he exited your ensuite bathroom, scrubbing the back of his head with a towel, you sat up straight, shuffling in your position. When Changbin looked up he did a double take before freezing in place, accidentally dropping the towel to the floor. His eyes raked over your figure, stopping on your breasts and core clothed in the lacy lingerie. His mouth had gone dry and he licked his lips absentmindedly. You fidgeted under his gaze, suddenly feeling incredibly insecure as he stared at you like a starved man.

“B-Bin?” You stuttered. As if Changbin suddenly remembered you were there, his eyes snapped to your face.

In the softest voice he could possibly muster, “Angel? What’s going on here?” He took a couple steps toward the bed, hesitating. He was afraid one wrong move and you would disappear, entirely a figment of his imagination. 

You shivered at the new pet name. Shuffling on your knees a little bit closer to the edge of the bed where Changbin stood, you looked up at him. “I- what do you think is going on? I want- want to make love to you, Bin.”

“Are you sure Angel? You’re absolutely positive you want to?”  Changbin took your hand from your lap, cradling it in his own. You nodded, not being able to form a sentence. “I need words, bun. Do you want to have sex with me?”

“Y-yes Binnie. I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life. I want you. However you’ll have me. Do- do you want to? Be with me?”

 Changbin was speechless. You were asking him if he wanted to be with you?? “My sweet angel, I have wanted to be with you since the day we became a couple. Let me take care of you, hm? I want to take my time with you tonight. Show you how good I can make you feel.”

Changbin helped you get settled at the head of the bed against the cushions and settled between your legs above you, slowly leaving open mouthed pecks against your lips, cheeks, and forehead. When his lips finally met yours fully, you eagerly whimpered, pulling him closer by his shoulders. Changbin tried to be gentle at first but as he sensed your neediness his hunger took over as he slipped his tongue out to intertwine with yours. When you broke away for breath, he started kissing and sucking down the length of your jaw to your neck and shoulder, leaving occasional hickeys until he reached the tops of your breasts. 

“You’re so beautiful, angel. Dressed up all pretty, for me,” Changbin muttered, more to himself than anything, though you heard him and whimpered. He eased the straps of your bra off your shoulders, and you arched your back so his deft fingers could unhook it. Before the white lace could even hit the floor, Changbin latched onto your left nipple, swirling his tongue around it and feeling it harden between his teeth. 

“Binnie… I need you, please,” You whined, underwear becoming increasingly wet and uncomfortable against your folds. 

“Patience my love, you’ll get everything you want, just let me have this moment a little while longer.” Changbin trailed to your right nipple, giving it the same attention as the other before kissing his way down to your core. He wished he could tease you just a little more but he had been waiting for this moment for so long he was growing just as desperate as you were. In an instant he had ripped your panties from your legs and thrown them over his shoulders, now face to face with your core. You whimpered in anticipation, lightly tangling your fingers in Changbin’s curls. He wasted no time in licking up the entire length of your slit,  dipping down to collect some of your essence before bringing it back up to your clit, lightly sucking. Your hands tightened slightly on Changbin’s scalp. 

“It feels so good, Bin, thank you…” you were clearly slipping away, letting go and relaxing. 

“So sweet… so polite… my angel.” Changbin murmured against your clit as he ate you out. You sighed at his words, beyond audible responses. He could feel you clenching around nothing and slowly eased a finger inside, pumping in and out slowly a couple times before adding a second. This drew a moan from you, and you could feel yourself approaching your release. Changbin began scissoring his fingers, trying to prepare you as best he could for his cock. He wrapped his lips gently around your clit, distracting you from the slight burn of his fingers moving in your hole. 

“B-Bin, I’m close…” You were slightly moving your hips up and down, feeling the knot tightening in your lower stomach. Changbin’s ministrations on your heat remained constant, working you through your high. A high pitched whine left your mouth as the pleasure crested and you came, Changbin slowing his motions down until your breathing regulated. 

Changbin brought his fingers to his mouth and licked himself clean, watching you closely. “How are you doing my love? Are you ready to stop for today?”

“No! Bin I want you, inside… please don’t stop now.” You whimpered, feeling empty.

“Whatever the princess wants, she’ll get,” Changbin crawled away from you just long enough to pull down his sweatpants and free his aching cock. You gaped, the only way to describe it as being pretty. And sizable. Changbin chuckled at your reaction, quickly rolling on a condom and getting back in between your legs. He looked at you one more time, looking for confirmation. After giving him a nod, he grabbed his length and began to run it through your folds, coating himself in your slick and nudging at your clit. When he was satisfied, he positioned himself at your entrance and slowly pushed the tip in, watching your face carefully for any grimace of pain. When he didn’t detect any, he pushed in slowly the rest of the day until he had bottomed out. “Are you alright my love? Does it hurt at all?”

“N-no, it feels really good… please move now,” You relaxed back against the pillows as Changbin started moving. He started slow, pulling out fully to the tip before pushing back in. You felt so good around Changbin, snug and warm. He felt like he was going to lose his sanity. “You can go faster, Binnie, please-” that was all the confirmation he needed to start rocking into you faster, grabbing your legs and wrapping them around your waist. The head of his cock started brushing against that sweet spot inside you, causing you to moan with every thrust.

“Is it good, Angel? You’re doing so well for me. So warm…” Changbin was losing his grip just as you were, relaxing into the rhythm as he felt his high start to form. He knew he wouldn’t be able to last long his first time with you, but if your moans were any indication, you wouldn’t last much longer either. Changbin leaned down to meet his lips with yours, one hand supporting him above you, and the other hand sneaking down to your clit. He started rubbing small circles on your nub, swallowing your sounds in his kisses. 

“It’s so good Bin, I’m-m close again,” You could feel yourself clenching hard around Changbin’s cock. He grunted and continued his movement against your clit.

“Please, come around my cock, I want to feel you, please…” Changbin started begging for you to come again with him as he felt his orgasm fast approaching, rocking in and out of you faster. As soon as he felt your release wash over you, clenching around his cock, he came as well, shaking as he tried to hold himself above you to not crush you. 

As you both came down from your highs, you sought out Changbin’s eyes. He could see the love reflecting out of them. “Thank you Binnie, it was… amazing. I love you.”

“I love you too, y/n. So much.” Changbin gave you some slow kisses before carefully pulling out of you, wincing from loss of contact. “I’ll be right back baby, stay right there.” He disappeared into the bathroom and you lay there, blissed out and happy.

Changbin returned a few minutes later with a warm, wet towel and some water. “Drink this baby, please,” You slowly sipped it as he cleaned any fluid and sweat off of your body, being gentle and soft. Once you were all done and redressed, Changbin rejoined you in bed, cradling you to his chest.

“Thank you for choosing to share yourself with me, angel. I know that was a big deal for you. It was for me too.” He pressed a soft kiss to your head, holding you until you both fell asleep, a soft smile on both your faces.

if you enjoyed this please consider reblogging and leaving comments! it makes my entire day

[quinloki]

Hi!! First I just want to say as someone who is in the kink community your kink series is so good and I love it!!!! Can you please do Zoro,Law,and Shanks on collaring, after care, voyeurism .

\o/ THANK YOU ♥ That means a lot to me, I have a lot of connections to the kink community, but I'm not nearly as active as I'd like (some of it is residual pandemic stuff, yada yada, but still). I appreciate your appreciation. ^_^

Aahhhh and you're asking for After Care specifically <3 I love it \o/

I've made mention of fantasy vs reality in this series a few times, and I'll say it again - your fantasy can be rotten - revel in it if you want - but your reality has to be not-rotten. Consent is sexy, and after care is NOT optional.

Okay, personal/educational stuff aside lemme get into this because YES. Zoro, Law, Shanks, this could only be more perfect if it was Zoro, Law and Kid, but I will embrace this with my soul, don't worry ♥

(Also to be fair I've done Kid and collaring and I have talked about his aftercare game at length xD )

Roronoa Zoro:

Collaring - Sure/Yes - If it's important to you, then it's a yes. He'll learn the finer points, and do everything he can to make the entire process exactly what you could ever want. Without any input from you though, he's fairly neutral. He can certainly be possessive, but collaring in a consensual way is a little awkward to him. It's not something he's thought about on his own, and there wasn't any kind of similar ritual from his home island.

And, in his defense, he wasn't really paying attention to much that didn't have to do with swords until he came across you in the first place. If it is a ritual that's important to you though, Zoro the ever adept pupil will, eventually, if all things line up for it, eventually propose with a collar. White, maybe opal, with golden accents that will look suspiciously like his most treasured sword.

Aftercare - Yes - Zoro is functionally good at after care. He's not going to be over the top, but he is going to do it every time. How much he does will vary depending on your state - and if he has to give full service, he totally will. He's not usually big on talking, but you'll be surprised to find him carrying, and controlling, conversation afterward. Most of his reassurance will be in his actions, and most of his learning will be in his words.

Neither will go to waste.

Voyeurism - FUCK Yes - he doesn't want anyone watching you but him, and he didn't know how good watching you could be. It seemed almost absurd at first, to just look, but the two of you have worked out a few sessions and scenarios - times when he may or may not be watching you - and he can hide his presence well.

Just watching you do things was oddly invigorating for him, but watching you in the bath once, when you weren't aware he was there, and you started playing with yourself. He nearly came in his pants, and that first time ended up "breaking the spell" because he was so caught off guard by how it effected him that he made a noise. It led to some very hands on fun that time. >.>

Trafalgar Law:

Collaring - Yes - Law is more about control than possession. That said, if you are the de facto sub in the relationship he'll lean hard into his dom tendencies (he is, to me, 80-85% dom, 15%-ish brat). He'll get more possessive, though never outside of sessions. You'll talk about collaring long before it happens, and it's almost a ritual of him setting aside that 15% consciously.

In the end, he'll provide you with everything that will ever go around your neck again, whether it's his hand, a choker, a custom collar, or a heavy metal collar for more intense role-plays and sessions.

Aftercare - Oh god you don't even know - As I've said plenty of times before, Law is all about control. Aftercare provides an ultimate kind of control. He's not just controlling you or the session itself, he's controlling your recovery - mental, physical, it doesn't matter what kind. The conversation grounds both of you, and he'll never admit to you that he thrives of pampering you. He keeps insisting it's his job as the dom to care for you after a session, but he loves having a valid reason to just lavish you with care.

On dates and such he tends to get nervous, despite his best efforts, but in aftercare he shines. He may not always know the best gift to give, or the perfect words to say to you in the morning, but he knows how to make you feel valued and loved as he tends to the rope burns on your skin after a session.

Voyeurism - FUCK Yes - Law doesn't care much if someone else sees you, he just doesn't want anyone else to hear the sounds you make. He enjoys watching you, especially if you want to put on a show just for him. He'll purr into your ear about how other people could be watching - everything from teasing you in public places, to musing if there's any video camera/snails around watching you.

There's almost never anyone else around, but he'll have you convinced, and if you're absolutely against the public component he'll respect that. There's other ways to admire you, after all.

Shanks:

Collaring - I guess - He knows how to go about the process, all the little nuances and rituals and what have you, but it's not his vibe. He's not terribly possessive in the first place. Having kind of done it all, and also being open to doing it all, it's just not his vibe.

He won't be entirely against it, and he'll fill that void for you if you want it, but it's not really his thing. He is, to me, more dom than sub, but he's more in it for mutual pleasure, than any of the role dynamics of some kinks. (He'll role play like fiend, and tease you whenever he can, but that's as close as he gets.)

Aftercare - FUCK Yes - Shanks' Aftercare game is on point. He's had plenty of practice and a lot of it is almost second nature. He might not consciously fill the role of dom, but it doesn't stop him from taking care of his partner. I feel like he's almost always going to be the more experienced person in the relationship no matter what - he's just so much of a free spirit looking for a good time that I don't think anyone else could hope to keep up.

And he's not reckless or cruel, so he's good at the whole thing, from the chase, to the foreplay, to mutual pleasure, to the aftercare.

Voyeurism - Yes - watch him, let him watch you, let the crew watch, let them watch you, watch without knowing. I mean, if you're for it, he'll make it happen. Everyone will be a willing participant. He even has a version for you where you'll be blindfolded and unsure of who is or isn't watching. (And who is or isn't interacting with you if you've given consent for that).

Pleaser and teaser that he is, he has all sorts of ways he can make Voyeurism work. (He's also at least a little bit of an attention whore, and he won't argue it. If it makes you feel good, why fight it?)

Kinky one piece head canons

[judgementdaysunshine]

You aren't well, but you don't want to skip training and make them worry, so you continue on as usual, thinking it's not that serious. But that's proven wrong when you faint right in front of them mid-fight

With Damian and reader like friends to lovers

Oooh yes!

One way to get to the point

Pairing: Damian Priest x Fem reader

Description: While stressed out pushing yourself past your limits a training session with Damian proves how you aren't okay

You felt excited to train with Damian for the day despite the chronic stomach pain, the throbbing pain in your head, and anxiety in your chest. You had a very packed and busy month from your big win at smackdown and your thrilling tag team match with Rhea to your upcoming match against Becky Lynch, interviews, and meetings about storylines which was okay for the first three weeks but it became a hectic, then stressful, chaotic, and now it was truly unbearable leaving you a nervous wreck all the time from the moment you wake up til you try to sleep being lucky to get an hour or two where you weren't in pain or sick. You smile seeing damian feeling your heart flutter and grow hugging him tightly as you walk inside the gym together already knowing you were going to be in a lot more pain and exhausted when you're done, taking a sip of water before you stretch joking with damian and Dom who happened to be in the gym training for his match against Shelton Benjamin. You learn a few tricks in between practicing new moves and feeling cold chills go throughout your body as time goes on not noticing dom asking damian if you were sick from how pale and exhausted you looked but you were determined to finish training even if you had to take a few breaks. You feel pure adrenaline as you spar with damian while dom stands ring side until you stop taking a breath looking at the ceiling "You need a minute?", "I'm alri-" the last thing you remember was feeling lightheaded seeing both their faces full of concern and fear before everything went black, "Woah hey hey!" damian catches you as you fall laying you down as dom touched your forehead feeling the coldness and clammy feeling along with the warmth and sweat taking you to the ER. The doctor determined that you passed out from stress, dehydration, and chronic pain from an ulcer that was in your stomach, thankfully you would only need to have antibiotics for the ulcer and just properly take care of yourself to get better, waking up feeling very heavy and drained "God you scared the shit out of us" you hug dom as you slowly lean up taking a drink of cold water feeling much better when you and damian go to your home. "You can go home" he shakes his head stopping you before you can say anything else "I will be losing my mind if I don't know you're okay...I care about you too much for that to happen.." you turn and look at him feeling your heart stop "Too much? What do you mean?" he sighs as he grabs your shoulders "I...I've always meant it when I say this but I mean it much more when I tell you" you raise a brow as you realize what he means, going for it and closing the space between the two of you pulling him to you in a kiss pulling away and laughing as you see the look on his face "Well that's one way to get to the point mi vida" you both laugh sharing a second and quicker kiss going upstairs to your bedroom falling asleep with a smile and plans of a date the next morning.

[jaehyunsbreadbasket]

Kinktober '22 Day 14- Terry Silver

Prompt: Uniform sex, Authority kink

Word Count: 745

Synopsis: Terry takes a special liking to a student in his adult class.

Consists of: Dom!Silver, Fem Sub!Reader, No actual sex, but suggestive, Mentions of karate, Sensei kink, Mentions of Terry's gi, Authority kink, Mentions of Terry punching a student, Terry using his power to his advantage

The moment he walks in, the air in the room changes. It thickens like honey; his presence filling it entirely. The moment his eyes fall on me, my legs feel like jelly. I have no idea how I'm still standing up right.

It was a night class scheduled after the normal ones for kids. Looking at the time on the clock, I wonder how long their lessons are. The sun went down hours ago, yet kids were still trickling out as we were coming in.

I had heard things about Terry Silver, not all of it great. But enough to make me curious, and so I decided to take a lesson. The man who wants to take over the Valley with karate. The man that wins by using questionable methods. It's interesting to see him in the flesh after all the talk. In front of me is just a man, not some big villain.

"Hello, students," Silver gives us a suave smile and adjusts his gi. The class is small: just me and two other men, but he talks as if there's a full room of eyes on him. He steps on the mat and begins circling around each of the men, sizing them up, before coming to me. I straighten my posture as I feel his eyes burning into me, avoiding his look as he stares as me from every angle.

"Hello, students..." he says again, as if he's expecting a specific answer. He waits before scuffing at us, "Do any of you know anything about karate? Didn't even do any research?" he moves back to the front of the room, "You're supposed to say "Hello, Sensei", he informs us.

"Hello, Sensei," we repeat.

He nods, seeming only half satisfied, before he begins speaking again, "This class isn't for the weak. If you're not prepared to put you're blood, sweat, and tears into this, I suggest you leave now. Karate is not a hobby. It is not a sport. It's survival. If you won't dedicate your whole life to this, then there's no point in being here. So get out!" One of the men in the room slowly leaves out, in hopes of making a subtle exit, "Any other cowards?" his eyes flicker to me and stay there. I stare back at him, my face stiffening, "Let's begin then."

In just one session, we don't learn much. He teaches us one thing and force us to do it again and again until we've perfected it, yelling whenever we made a mistake. I've been doing the same punch for an hour now. He was meticulous in a way that was both respectable and frustrating. At times when the other student in the room does something wrong, he'll get a threatening stare from Sensei or a sudden hit he's expected to dodge; he doesn't lay a finger on me.

When he finally tells us the lesson is over, I feel like I've massively wasted my time. My heart rate has been raised but ultimately, I feel unfulfilled. The other man wastes no time packing his things and rushing out the door into the night; his quickness most likely a result of the bullying he faced this evening. I begin to put my things in my bag but I'm stopped when Sensei calls out to me, "You're not done yet."

"What?" I question. Looking up at him from where I squat by my bag.

"You need extra lessons. You're technique requires...extra care," he gives me a smirk and moves closer to me. I stand up to meet his eyes. He stares at me for a moment before reaching his hand out to me and moving my hair off of my shoulder. He leans in, putting his mouth against my ear before whispering, "I have a few more things to teach you."

I finally get the hint, "What do you want to teach me...Sensei?"

I feel his breath against me, his hands fall to my hips, "I think you need a lesson on flexibility," he flips both of us onto the mat. He hovers over me, caging me in his arms, "You'll let Sensei teach you right?" I nod and he tsks, "I need you to say it, Sweetie."

My tummy flutters at the pet name, "Please teach me, Sensei," I put on my best wide-eyed, innocent look.

"Good girl," Terry smiles at me wickedly before beginning to undo his gi.

This night just got a lot longer.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• A/N: I'm not sure if a gi qualifies as a uniform but I'm just gonna go with it

Prompts from: @buckyownsmylife

My Kinktober 2022 Masterlist ��

[synthient]

Okay, okay, but. What is the place of human pet erotica and leashes in the transmasc terf manifesto. Is kink bourgeoisie? Is lesbianism? Is manhood? Pls share more about the book, there's no way I have the time to read it right now, so the only way I can get all the weird psychosexual nonsense is your posts.

Well, the terf reveal leads me to read it as much more straightforwardly anti-kink than I originally did. I could be overcorrecting there, though

But basic summary: a semi-famous lesbian author is bored, disaffected, trying to cheat on the life partner who co-owns her lavish apartment, but not having much luck at lesbian bars (mostly because her self-absorbtion pushes people away). She's deeply jealous of gay men and their cruising culture (which she attributes to innate biological differences), and she's fixated on and revolted/compelled by gay male AIDS-risk and the concept of sex-as-death

She puts out a personal ad on the early 2000s internet. It gets answered by a dom, whose face she never sees and whose name she never learns. They have a couple sessions (kind of basic aside from One Big Red Flag involving a pet dog), and the dom offers her a full-time d/s contract for the few weeks before her partner gets back from overseas.

Our protagonist (who we only ever know as "Chris," the fake name she gives to the dom) spends days spiraling about this offer in a series of unsent letters/diary entries. She psychoanalyzes herself at length via Freud/Lacan. She wonders if this is about her death drive. She basically assumes/fears/hopes that accepting the contract will lead to her either getting murdered, or getting brainwashed into wanting to be chained in a basement forever. There's no real evidence for this at this point - the dom has shown little interest in pressuring her or disrespecting her safewords - but once she accepts, the relationship enters a 0-to-60, increasingly surreal and disturbing spiral, leading to the cronenbergian ending that's made the book infamous.

(Think the original post that made cybersmith known as "the human pet guy")

On my original read, I thought, okay. The first part of the book sets Chris up as kind of a narcissist/unreliable narrator. The second part takes a huge shift in tone and internal logic, and maps almost impossibly perfectly onto Chris's hyperspecific neuroses (racial, gendered, anxiety about aging, her Lacanian death drive stuff, etc). Maybe this is all in her head. The Yellow Wallpaper for the rich white lesbian of 2001.

But much like Charlotte Perkins Gilman, the bigotry of the author's feminism, uh. reframes some things

[wellbehavedonmain]

Well, Merry Christmas and happy holigays….! 🎄

I’ve been so fucking horny lately. Mostly because of your blog, and the wine hasn’t hurt, either. I think it’s funny because we seem to have very similar turn ons, so I’m trying to lean a bit more into a mindset of telling you what to do / being in control in charge, as I think about all of this.

Not gonna lie, I’ve definitely touched myself several times while thinking about this fun little scenario we’ve dreamed up…

Let me continue—- So, your “reward” for being a very good boy could be eating out my partner while I lick you until you come for me. I wonder how long you could go before struggling to finish off my partner. Are you able to handle multitasking during your orgasm? If so, that’s genuinely very impressive.

I think I told you, but I’ve never tasted another pussy other than my partner. I imagine you taste great. Listening to you fuck them while I fuck you … would be really, really attractive. I think we’d all be enjoying ourselves. I’m imagining you on your knees and then I’m on my back— you could ride my face…

After, would you want one of us to fuck you with a strap, baby? We have … several to choose from. What positions do you like? Seems like you don’t mind cumming more than once in a session. And who could blame you, when it feels so good… Maybe one of us will hold your wrists above your head while the other fucks you. One of us can admire you up close, gently caress your face … Leave some hickeys on your pretty neck. Lightly bite your neck and ear lobe. That sounds nice— Doesn’t it? Oh and I’ve learned that you like sucking on fingers, so we can arrange that during this too. And when you get close I can rub your clit in a circular motion to help you get that double-stimulation orgasm going.

I’m curious, if you can remember the most satisfying sexual experience you’ve had? I know I ask a lot of questions, but I hope you don’t mind.

Mine would be once when I was finger fucked from behind and I came so hard I had to scream into the pillow, so we wouldn’t bother our neighbors. 😇

A very happy holigays to you too 😉 You ask a lot of questions, but I have fun answering them, so…

I’m generally pretty good about multitasking during the buildup to an orgasm… tends to make them last longer, you know? But in the moment… yeah, I’d be pretty useless for at least a few minutes. I tend to turn into a sensitive baby afterwards, so you or your partner could have a lot of fun playing with me, testing and teasing me with the strap while I’m so reactive to the stimulation. I’m such an oral fixation type of sub, so just about anything you want to put in my mouth is good with me.

The best sexual experience I’ve ever had… that’s a hard one. Honestly all of the threesome-type experiences I’ve had rank pretty high on that list. The best one was probably the one I had with my friend and *** ********* in *********, just because of her specific brand of… I guess you could call it soft-domming? and how long I had wanted her. I could write up a mini-story time about it if you wanted to hear more?

[heart-binding]

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: 　hi, im mel　 :･ﾟ✧ : ･ﾟ✧

Hi there, I am Melody, but you can call me Mel if you’d like. I am 29, age verified on a number of sites, including Fetlife (mel0dic).

This is a place for me to express my sexuality. I am active in my local BDSM and DDlg communities, and always looking to make new online friends and meet new people. I am a very kinky and promiscuous gal and I absolutely love being a slut.

Please read this post before interacting with my blog <3

»——————-——————–ABOUT ME—————————–———-✄ I love fetish and kink! It has become my happy place. I haven’t had the opportunity to explore everything that I’m interested in - and oh boy, it’s a lot! You name it, I am probably curious about it. Tumblr is sensitive, so I won’t list anything specific, but I am sure you can surmise what I’m into by the content I post here on this blog.

Please feel free to reach out and make conversation if you’re further curious about my fancies, but please understand ** the only messenger app that I am comfortable using is Wire messenger app. ** Do not ask me to add you on any other sites, please!

I’m a switch. I have two very distinct personas that I play in.

Mistress Mel is my Domme persona. Being a Dom is fairly new to me, but I love it! I am currently building my fetish apparel wardrobe and having so much fun leaning into this power hungry femme fatale character. I am on the journey to find a Pro Domme to train with so that I can learn everything that I need to make little sissy sluts submit to my every whim. I will soon open sub applications and sometimes I take calls on Niteflirt. If you’re interested in booking a session, please reach out and keep an eye out for more information.

And then there’s my naturally submissive side. I first found BDSM and DDlg through a Craigslist personal ad. You can read more about that here: My Entrance into DDlg. 

I’ve been a sugar baby, and I’ve been a cam girl. And while that’s all fun and well, DDlg is inside me. I must feed this part of myself in order to be a full and healthy woman. DDlg allows me to lean into my people pleasing and attention seeking tendencies without harming myself or anyone else. Being completely and wholeheartedly submissive allows me the space to be decisive and purposeful in my daily life.

I absolutely live to be adored and desired, and part of what I enjoy most about BDSM is the opportunity to please my partner and fulfill their desires. I love bringing a story to life, i love rough play, i love being at the mercy of a strong man who truly cares about me. I love the feeling of sparking or igniting a passion so great it could burn our hearts up in smoke. That look in their eyes, seeing the inhibitions release in their eyes and watching them give into their primal needs. It’s simply heaven.

»———————-——-—PLAY WITH ME—–—-——————–———-✄

I will always blog and interact on my NSFW and personal blogs:

@mellygrl - current NSFW sex blog, doomed to implode any day now. But come follow me and tell me all the beautifully depraved things you'd like to do to/with me! Pretty please, Daddies and Doms!

@mel0dicerotic - primary blog that I follow and reply from. This is my personal aesthetics and life blog. Lets be friends!

@mellygrrl - backup NSFW sex blog, please follow if you care about me and don't wanna go a single day without me <3

@quotationadmiration - personal quotes blog

I share some photos of myself, my fetish apparel, my experiences, my DDlg dates, my Domme training, and more about my life in the BDSM World with the tags #me, #hi im mel, #mels media.

#daddy goals - for all deliciously deviant text posts by Doms. #1cky goals for my deeper perversions.

#princess whore - media dedicated to my playful submissive side

#mistress mel - media and information dedicated to my fetish apparel modeling and Pro Domme services.

»——————--——-—–—DEAR DIARY————-————-–———-✄

This is a master archive for my diary entries. These are 100% real experiences lived by me. This blog remains text only, very few photos, in order to keep it alive and well.

Asks are open for business inquiries only. Photography, Pro Domme, and other serious projects are welcome. Any other inquiries (PPM, custom paid content, etc) please seek one of the other avenues laid out above, or below.

»—————-——–———OTHER LINKS————-———————-—-✄

Yes, I am training as a Pro Domme in my community and yes, I will begin to take bookings soon! So, keep an eye out for the inquiry form here, or on my personal blogs. Bookings will begin at a lower cost while I am still training, and will increase in due time.

Follow @yesmistressmel on twitter (x? lol whatever its called) for more dedicated announcements, and if you are considering applying to be my sub please tribute on cash app $yesmistressmel.

I was previously a cam girl. I do not currently cam, due to my current living situation, but I always keep a free OF page for archived posts, and for anyone who wants to follow in case they would like to know if/when I begin to stream again.

You can find all outside links here: https://allmylinks.com/mel0dic-erotic

Kisses, Mel