#and the coils can be pretty hard to get in and around at certain angles :p

[baalzebufo]

ooohhg I want to post my Epitome progress... im so happy with it! the two main stars are maaaybe a little wobbly but if you're looking at them from a normal distance away they look fine, haha. I wanted the mirrors surface to have a starry background with the implication of eyes in there *_*

I've still gotta highlight, give the gems more depth, and of course handle my two daemonette attendants (i normally dont do subassembly stuff but... no way was I painting all those coils with the girls glued down. so they're on temp bases right now)

all in all coming out really good! im coming up on finishing my slaanesh warband which is exciting :]

[cheriecoke]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ SINK YOUR TEETH INTO ME — nanami kento

kento gets all worked up when you suck his blood

contents. vampire!reader, bloodsucking, fingering, nsfw,

a breathy groan rips its way up your throat as you withdraw from kento’s neck, scarlet blood dripping down your fangs. the two puncture marks are so small compared to the mass of muscle, the deep color a contrast against his skin.

for a moment, you can only stare.

there is evidence of your own need in that bite, and your cunt clenches hard around his fingers. the feeling of his blood in your stomach is too much, it’s so warm, settling under your skin.

kento’s fingertips curl against your walls, a ring of cream around his knuckle as he slows the movements of his hand, bringing it nearly to a stop. the taste of his blood is heavy on your tongue, and you grab his shoulder roughly, digging your nails into the delicate skin. 

“why’d you stop?” kento asks, breathless, his other hand curling into your hair as you pant heavily into his collarbone. he’s hard; the tip of his cock is flushed, coated with pre-cum, even though you haven’t even touched him.

the minute he sees your fangs, kento gets worked up far too easily. he’s always so eager to get your teeth in his skin. 

you whine against his neck, rolling your hips along his fingers, encouraging him to keep moving. “gonna cum too fast, kento—” you say, but it comes out with a cry as he brushes all your sensitive spots. your nails break the skin of his shoulder as he continues the pace, thrusting his thick finger deep inside you. “your blood tastes too good.” 

kento brushes his other hand into your hair, forces your lips back down to his neck. his breathing has already become uneven, and the sound makes you ache. “i don’t fucking care.” your fangs graze the broken skin once more, and kento lets out a low groan, eyes squeezing shut. his cock twitches against his stomach, desperate to be touched. “feels so good when you—”

you lick his vein, and he shudders, throat bobbing visibly as the words fall flat on his lips. 

“kento, i don’t want to hurt you,” you start, but his fingers sink back into your soaked pussy, stretching your walls before playing with your clit. your argument is dead as he rubs slow circles on the sensitive bud. “o-oh. fuck, right there.” you whimper, drenching his fingers. 

“i don’t care. i’d let you drain all my blood sweetheart, that’s how good it feels.” there’s sweat on kento’s hairline, even though you’ve done nothing to him. his eyes are hazy, half-open as he regards you with adoration, his devotion endless. “you get so drenched when you taste my blood. can’t help it.” your sharp fangs break the skin once more, and he grins. “i’ll give you my blood all the time if it means you’ll stay this fucking wet for me.”

you don’t mean to—but kento curls his fingers just the right way and you squeeze around him, so close to your orgasm. and you bite down on the vein, blood spilling into your already stained lips. 

a loud moan leaves both of you, and kento speeds his fingers, panting heavily as you grab at his scalp, roughly angling his neck so that you can take even more of the nectar from his willing vein. “ken–”

“that’s it, pretty,” he says, but his words are nothing more than whispers, stuttered syllables. “god, you’re perfect.”

you suck and suck, moaning around the wound as you think of the last time you’d tasted something this sweet. 

never. you’re certain of that, and the thought alone rears you closer to your orgasm, coiling your throbbing core tighter and tighter. you shift your hips down hard, nearly riding his fingers as you drain his life source, trying to remind yourself to stop. 

and though kento is breathless, so desperate for you that he aches, there is a hardness, a seriousness to his words when he says, “don’t ever drink from anyone but me again. no one but me. i’d rather fucking die than see you with someone else’s blood on your lips.” 

the sensuality of that alone is what sends you over the edge. even if you needed to, you’d never want anyone but kento’s blood, not when it tastes like the sweetest ambrosia. 

you cry out his name, squeeze hard around his fingers as you cum far too quickly, shuddering down your stomach. finally, you release his vein and reach for him, his hardened, desperate cock. but you’re hardly able to get your hand on it before kento cums, hot white ropes running down the length of him as he releases a pretty groan, burying his face in your hair. 

he caresses the top of your head, encouraging, but you can only stare, for a moment, before pumping your hand down his cock. the rest of his thick cum empties into your hand. “k-kento—”

his smile is sweet, eyelashes fluttering above his pink cheeks. “see what you do to me, sweetheart?” 

[prettyboykatsuki]

»» — { ♡ } —— { ♡ } —— { ♡ } — ««

what i want | s. todoroki 

➳ tags ;; face-sitting, afab!reader, overstimulation, scent kink (?), smut, mdni 18+

➳ wc ;; 1.5k

➳ a/n ;; saw a tiktok + and read this shiggy drabble by @/saintdabi ‘s  and now this concept wont leave me alone in anyway.  literally wrote this like i was posessed... 

➳ plot ;; midoriya sends a certain link in the groupchat. todorki gets curious and clicks. suddenly he wants to try seomthing. 

»» — { ♡ } —— { ♡ } —— { ♡ } — ««

“Can we try something?” 

The question catches you off-guard. Not because it’s a weird and kind of vague question (which it is) but because of who’s asking. Todoroki rarely ever brings things up out of the blue. You’re trying to make dinner so you don’t really have a lot of time to think about why. You dry your wet-hands on the front of your apron, stirring the pot. 

You don’t bother to think twice when you reply to him. 

“What do you wanna try?” 

A silence falls. It’s just a beat too long, which isn’t uncommon for him but isn’t what you expect. You glance over your shoulder after salting the water, squinting. Todoroki almost mirrors you, reading something off his phone. He looks up at you after taking one last glance, as if to make sure he got it right. 

“Face-sitting,” 

You almost fall over. 

He says it so nonchalantly, you’re almost sure you’re hearing things. You brace yourself on the counter and turn down the heat almost entirely, trying to ensure your house doesn’t go down in flames. You blink at him owlishly. 

“Sorry.. can you repeat that?” 

He looks confused. He was sure he said it correctly. He blinks a few times, glances at his phone again as he tilts his head to one side. 

“..face-sitting?”  

You think you’ve gone mad but he looks at you like you’re the one who’s lost it. Your skin grows beyond hot underneath your clothes - a vague emotion of arousal rolling through you. With your mouth agape, you decide that there’s no way you could continue with dinner so you turn it off and stare at him. Nervously, you cross your arms over your chest. 

“.. Where did you..?” 

Todoroki, stoic as ever, shrugs. He looks down at his phone and this time, you can hear the constant buzzing. 

“Midoriya sent a link into the chat on accident. I clicked it,” ― he says, and then seemingly decides this needs absolutely no more explaining than that ― “It looked interesting,” 

You stare at him. 

“Were you... watching porn while I made dinner?” 

He nods. You think you might lose your mind at this rate but you press forward anyways, eyes looking down at his pants. He’s as soft as can be, you’d know. 

“You’re not hard..?” 

He nods, again. Looks at you confused like he has some reason to be. 

“I only get hard with you,” 

You inhale a sharp breath. You think this man might kill you some day, but you’d probably let it happen. Shaking your head, you lean against the counter. With a smile of sympathy, you decide to be straightforward with it. 

“..I’m pretty sure I’d crush you baby,” 

Without missing a single beat, he shakes his head. This time, there’s a faint hint of a blush on his face. 

“I don’t care. I.. really want to,” ― he looks up at you with the most curious eyes you’ve ever seen ― “Please?” 

You’re not sure how to feel. The possibility of mishap is enough to make you want to reject him again but he looks so hopeful. The idea of your beloved boyfriend walking around sulking is guilt-inducing enough to make you sigh and give in. He smiles when you nod. 

You walk over towards him, only really planning on giving him a kiss. You’d been out most of the day and were planning on taking a night-shower after dinner. 

“Okay, well - let me shower first and -” 

He shakes his head, almost petulant. Strong arms wrap around your waist as he drags you down to his lap with an urgency he can’t seem to contain. You yelp audibly, hearing soft breaths in your ear. Something twitches to life underneath you as soon as you sit, making your eyes grow wide. 

“Can’t wait that long and..I like it better like this,” 

Your eyes grow wide. The “this” remains vague but you’ve caught onto how Todoroki seems to like you more before you’ve showered than after. Still, it makes your skin hot. You want to argue with him - about to protest and struggle out of his grip but all of a sudden his voice goes raspy. Soft and low against the nape of your neck. 

“Please, my love. I really want to,” 

You swallow the saliva in your mouth, mind blanking at the sound of his voice. It goes right to your core, a pleasant throb in your shorts. You’re still wearing your apron and PJ’s. You agree maybe too easily, weak to him and his desires. 

“Fine but how do you want to...? On the couch..?” Your words come out unusually meek. You’re never such a nervous person there’s something thick in the air. Palpable desire that makes you weak. 

A warmth settles in your skin as he wastes no time, undoing your apron and letting it fall to the floor. Slender, pretty fingers go into the waist band of your shorts and without a second thought, he helps you slide them off your legs. 

It’s almost like an inspection, how you’re sprawled over his thigh. It’s all happening so fast - your mind moves too slow to keep up. His pointer finger drags across your clothed cunt, chin resting over your shoulders. His brow furrows at the wet-spot on them. A whine leaves you in embarrassment that he ignores. 

“You’re wet already.. sorry to make you impatient,” 

The apology is so genuine you’re not sure how to reply. 

“Here.. I’ll lay like this and you can rest your knees on the cushion,” 

You move off of him and stand to see what he means. He gets himself comfortable, head resting on the armrest of the couch. You blink as he gestures to where you should place yourself. When he says sit on his face, he means sit . He means lean forward so your ass is facing him. The realization hits you like a truck. 

Out of obligation, all the furniture in your house is lavish and this couch is no exception. All white and big enough that you could spread out on it without much effort. You know you’ll fit but you hesitate. Todoroki looks at you patiently but you can practically feel how much he wants it. 

With a little help, you manage to get into position. It’s a little humiliating - the feeling of his warm breath fanning your cunt. You’re still just hovering above him, and you squirm around as best you can. So nervous you think you’ll pass out. 

“Are you sure you want to ― aah!,” 

Without a word of warning, Todoroki pulls you down until the full weight of you ends up on his face. Your panties are still on but he doesn’t seem to pay any attention, his tongue lapping at your clit with such fervor you can’t help but moan. The angle from which he eats you hits the spot so perfectly, works you up until your pussy is practically drooling on his face. 

You let out a feverish squeal at the pleasure, still light but overwhelming enough that you’re wiggling away. Every now again between licks, he lets out a deep groan that vibrates against your sex so sweetly. Your stomach churns as your hands splay on his abdomen. 

“Sh-shouto my, fuck - my panties, you’re gonna get them, hmph” 

He lets you up, ever so briefly, just to whisper a hoarse “sorry,” move your panties just to the side before making you plunge right back down onto his tongue. You taste sweet and slight - but it’s better after a long day. So much stronger in his mouth, he can’t enough of it. 

Saliva and slick drip down his chin and cheeks, further fueled by the way you whimper above him. He eats you out very often but it’s different like this - you can’t go anywhere because his arms are secure around your thighs and his tongue keeps slurping so greedily at your swollen clit. He’ll stop just to feel it pulsate before carrying on with incredible enthusiasm. 

And he moans through it like it turns him on more than him fucking you. You’re honestly inclined to believe it might. His hands that rest on your ass, spreading you apart so he can go just that much deeper. Your nerves are being worked, the sheer stimulation is too much for you. He’s overzealous and shameless about it too. 

“You taste so good my love, fuck” 

Hearing him speak to you makes tears well at your eyes. He slides his tongue over your puffy clit over and over until he hits a rhythm. The constant feeling of pleasure sparks again and again and again until an orgasm so steadily builds in you. 

“Shouto, shouto - baby, please! Slow down or I’ll c-cum,” 

He heard you, he must have because if anything he goes that much faster. So fast that you’re practically sobbing his name, drooling and blindsided as the coil in your belly snaps. You cum so hard and so fast, you think you’re going to see your maker. Your toes curl and your walls flutter. A high whine leaves your mouth. 

“Baby, no more - can’t anymore,” 

He stops but only to speak with an almost delirious voice. Deep and possessive as his hands bury into your hips. 

“I’m not done yet” 

You realize a second too late what you’ve just gotten yourself into. 

»» — { ♡ } —— { ♡ } —— { ♡ } — ««

[oblxvion]

little secret | jean kirschstein

-> pairing: ceo!jean kirschstein x f!reader

-> wc: 1.6k

-> warnings: NSFR, smut/nsfw, praise, vaginal sex, oral sex (m receiving), unprotected sex, creampie

-> notes: for u my love @miyanom​ <333 LOL let me know if there's any mistakes that i missed while editing!

you had no idea how you ended up in this situation, bare chest pressed up against his desk as he pushed your head down with one hand, holding your right hip with the other. it was all too much, and with your boss, jean kirschstein. of course you found him attractive, who wouldn’t? but to think that he was infatuated with you, his secretary, made your brain feel funny.

it was just a normal day at work, you had worn suitable and appropriate attire, but for some reason, he couldn’t take his eyes off of you.

jean was mesmerized, there was something different about you from the rest off the women that he had worked with. he felt weird having these feelings for you as your superior, but for some reason, it aroused him more. the way you acted around everyone, you seemed so innocent, and he wanted to know what you felt like, how you’d moan under him, get all worked up from him barely touching you. you hadn’t been able to leave his thoughts for the past couple weeks and when he saw you come into his office to deliver some papers, he knew he had to have his way with you.

one thing led to another, and here you were now. 

“fuck, baby, you feel so good,” he seethed, pulling you up towards him so your back flush against his chest. this angle hitting that spongey spot perfectly, he could tell by the way you squeezed around him at this action. just by this simple change, you could feel the coil beginning to tighten, threatening to snap.

“jean, shit, ‘m gonna cum—” 

just as you were about to have the release of a lifetime, the both of you froze at the sound of someone knocking on the door do jean’s office. horror struck your face as you looked over to him, quickly pulling out as you winced at the loss of the feeling of being full, and your ruined orgasm before jean motioned for you to get underneath his desk while he sat down in his chair.

“jean, may i come in?” you recognized that voice, connie springer. one of the members of his board. you’d heard jean talk about him when you’d dropped off some work for him in the past. 

“oh, uh, yeah,” he coughed, trying to not sound as suspicious as he wiped down the sweat on his forehead with his sleeve. of all the times when connie needed to talk to him, why did it have to be now?

“so, i have some papers for you that i need you to look at, they look pretty important.” connie explains, walking closer over to the desk. you stayed quiet as you looked up to jean, visibly tense at the fact that connie was coming closer. if connie found out what the two of you were doing, you were almost certain that you’d lose your job.

“okay, yeah, i can get them to you later this afternoon, just leave them on the table.” he sounded agitated, to anyone except connie, it was clear that jean wanted him to leave and continue his fun that he was having with you moments prior. 

what he didn’t expect was to feel you sliding your hands up his thighs, palming his dick through his poorly zipped pants. you heard his breath hitch as you continued your ministrations, slowly pulling his still hard cock out from under his garments.

you lazily stroked his length, bringing your mouth over to tease his tip with your tongue as you tasted the remnants of yourself and his precum. ever so quietly, you continued to bring more of him into your cavern, bobbing your head and up and down, making sure to not make a sound. 

jean, on the other hand, was having trouble keeping his composure. there’s no way that he would say or do something that’d risk your cover, and more importantly, he thought this was insanely attractive that you were giving him, your superior, head under his desk. 

he peered down to look at you, catching a moan in his throat before playing it off as a cough. you looked so pretty like this, with his cock down your throat, your spit coating his length and your hand as you proceeded to slide your hand up and down his shaft. this image alone was going to be burned into his memory forever, he was going to have to see this again. 

“hey, is everything okay?” connie could tell that there was something wrong, and jean did not want him to come any closer, he did not want connie to see you like this, it was meant for him only. 

“yeah, everything’s fine, i just am a bit stressed out that’s all,” jean responded in a monotone voice as his hands gripped the sides of his chair, he wasn’t going to last long. 

“well, do you wanna talk about—” 

“no, fuck, sorry. can i just have some space, please?” with that, connie gave a small nod, obviously worried for his boss but wanting to give him some space as he left the room. 

once the door closed behind connie, jean eased into his chair, chuckling in the process. he looked down at you once again, seeing as you hadn’t slowed your movements, he brought his hand down to your head and intertwined his fingers with your hair, aiding your head up an down.

“that was, fuck, quite the stunt you pulled,” he smirked down at you as you pulled off of him, giving him a cheeky smile as you continued to lazily jerk him off. it was so sloppy, but the two of you loved it. “c’mere.” 

jean grabbed your free wrist to pull you up towards him, his lips meeting yours in a heated kiss. the kiss was full of need, full of need, and full of lust. your hand lazily moving up and down his length before crawling up into his lap. 

you melted into the kiss as you swiveled your hips on his dick, teasing him by sliding his tip between your folds but not quite bringing him inside just yet. as much as you wanted to tease him, make him crumble even more than he was already, you were aching for him.

"fuck — baby, put it in, oh my god," jean groaned as he threw his head back, squeezing his eyes shut before bringing his hands to your waist. in this moment, you felt so powerful by doing this action but it was quickly forgotten. his hands gripped you tightly and moved your hips in a way that his tip slid over your clit perfectly. the way he made you feel, the pleasure he gave you, it was too overwhelming.

the moment he slipped his cock inside your cunt, you immediately felt yourself get closer to your climax. your previous orgasm ruined, you were desperate to get it back.

your arm wrapped around his neck while his hands were on your waist as you sunk down, taking him to the hilt. the slick from your arousal made it easier for jean to thrust inside you, alternating between that and you riding him.

his hands remained at your waist, grinding you down onto him as your foreheads touched and lips ghosting each other's, but not once making contact. jean wanted to hear your pretty little noises while you wanted to hear his.

“jean,” you whimpered, melting into his touch.

“so — fucking pretty, you’re so pretty, my pretty girl.” jean babbled as your cunt continued to suck him back in, it was so addictive. he loved it, he wanted more, he needed more, he needed to feel you cum.

you both were clearly close with how erratic jeans's thrusts were and how desperately you ground your hips down onto him.

"fuck fuck fuck, jean, please," you whined, bringing your head to rest on his shoulder as he fucked into you at a a steady pace. the way you squeezed down on him, drove him insane. he could feel his orgasm approaching as he brought his hands down to the fat of your ass, gripping hard as he bounced you on his cock. 

the way he kept hitting that special spot over and over again, and you could feel your legs begin to tremble as your orgasm washed over you. with a yell of his name, your body trembled as the wall broke down, your release coating his cock.

“’m cumming, fuck, oh fuck,” jean groaned, the feeling of your arousal and previous orgasm drove him over the edge as hot spurts of cum flooded your insides. his thrusts slowed to a halt as he rested his head on your shoulder as an attempt to catch his breath.

you both sat there in a comfortable silence for a few moments before you felt the feeling of his cum seeping out of your swollen cunt. you stood up and began to look for your panties, not knowing where to they were. 

“looking for these?” jean smirks while reaching into his back pocket to pull out your black lace thong.

“yeah, thanks,” you turn your back towards him, clearly embarrassed that he had your panties in his pocket. you could feel your face hot as you felt his chest press against the small of your back before giving you a light kiss on the exposed skin of your shoulder. 

“lemme help you,” he whispers before kneeling down so you can step into your undergarments as he slides them up your thighs and under your skirt before standing tall again. his hand reached under the fabric to bring his fore finger and middle finger just over the crotch to feel the mix of his cum along with yours. “keep it in for me when i check later, yeah?”

your face hot as you gave him a small nod before flattening your skirt, fixing your skirt and hair. just as you had reached for the handle of his door, you heard his voice once more. 

“it can be our little secret.”

© all content belongs to oblxvion 2021, do not repost or change.

[smoochkooks]

—golden boy (m.)

⟶ pairing: jeon jungkook/reader

⟶ genre: smut, fluff, disney hercules au, meg!oc, hercules!jk

⟶ summary: jungkook finally has you all to himself. and oh, is he going to cherish the moment wholeheartedly.

⟶  word count: 2.7k

⟶ warnings: virgin!jk, switch!jk if you squint, exhibitionism (they do it outdoors but it’s ancient greece so it’s not even surprising), soft to kinda rough sex, heavy petting, oral (f receiving), slight dirty talk, hair pulling, unprotected sex, creampie, jk in a man bun, pegasus cockblocking his partner in crime

a/n: i got cherry vodka drunk and wrote this in two hours. it’s jorny hours so please forgive me for the sins you’re about to read with your very own eyes. hercules is one of my favorite childhood disney movies and watching it today i just couldn’t stop imagining jk as the greek god. if you see any mistakes - please ignore them. it’s almost 2am. enjoy!! xx ps. I had some major difficulties with posting this one so if you were one of the first people to read it and sth was off: read it again now thank u

Jungkook thinks you're the most beautiful person in the whole world. 

He hasn't seen many goddesses in his life (hell, he's sure of it, judging by the short period of time he spent on Olympus as a newborn baby-god) but he's positive you would make his aunt Aphrodite jealous. You’re the epitome of his perfection, a walking daydream, his muse and an object of desire.

He could die happily staring at you, though it's impossible due to the fact he's very much immortal. He could travel back to Hades and fight every titan that rots in the pits of Tartarus, just to see you batting your long eyelashes at him or hear you call him ‘golden boy’ again. You quite literally have him wrapped around your finger, not even his father Zeus, the most powerful god in the entire universe managed to convince him to stay on Olympus and bask in the glory with the rest of his family.  

Jungkook chose to live his life with you, on Earth, and there's not a single smudge of doubt or regret clouding his brain. Not when he can finally hold you in his arms and kiss stupidi just like right now when it’s dark out and you’re sitting comfortably on the ground near a small pond.  

“You saved me once again, golden boy,” you murmur, fingers lazily threading through the dark locks on his neck. It almost makes him purr into your mouth.

“You weren't really in trouble the first time.” He bites your lip in return, eliciting a giggle from you.

“But am I not your favorite damsel in distress, Jungkookie?” You place your palm on his rock-hard chest and push, until he's laying flat on the grass, the starry sky above reflecting in his black orbs. “You're my hero, you know that, right?” you whisper, straddling his lap.  

Jungkook's been to Olympus and knows what heaven looks like but this: you above him, your hair cascading down your shoulders, dress bunching up around your waist and revealing smooth expanses of honey skin– is incomparable. It's sweet ambrosia on his tongue, the finest of all tastes, the greatest feeling in the world.  

“Am I?” he asks just to hear you say it once again. Instead of responding verbally you lean down to kiss him, your lips molding perfectly together. He groans into your mouth, two calloused palms itching to touch the bare skin of your thighs. Growing bolder, his hands reach further, cupping your asscheeks and pulling you even closer to him. 

You smirk into his mouth. “Someone's eager,” you tease but give in anyway, brushing your core over the hard length beneath his tunic.  

Jungkook all but moans at that and you relish in the sounds he makes, repeating the movement and slowly grinding yourself on his cock. His face twitches in pure ecstasy and you swear you've never seen anything more beautiful in your entire life– the son of Zeus being at your mercy, helpless to the pleasure you're giving him. “You're going to be the death of me,” he sighs, angling your head to kiss you again. You don't hesitate to oblige, accepting the tongue he slithers inside with a whimper of your own. 

“Thank gods you're immortal.” you say in between kisses.

He chuckles lowly, sending shivers down your spine. He bunches the material of your dress in his hands and lifts it off you in one, swift movement. Your nipples harden feeling the soft breeze fanning over your flesh. Looking down, you're met with Jungkook's blown out pupils. He looks so dreamy like this, the most perfect golden boy you’ve ever seen. His lips are swollen from your kisses, hair a little tussled and falling from his bun. A sight for sore eyes, truly.  

“You're so beautiful, love,” he murmurs, his palms engulfing your breasts. You moan when he sucks one of the nipples into his hot mouth, fingers threading through his hair and ready to pull. “My goddess,” he chants, switching to the other breast. He flicks the pebbled bud with his tongue and then bites lightly, making you cry out in pleasure. “I love the sounds you make. Want to hear you moaning for me. Give me more, love, please.”

He places his hands underneath your thighs and lifts you off him, laying you on your back. You don't complain about the change, not when he trails kisses down your chest and stomach, not when you feel his hot breath on your womanhood. He's determined to please you, it seems, so he mouths over your undergarments, alternating between kissing and licking you softly through the material.  

“Take them off,” you mutter, growing impatient. Jungkook looks up, a devilish smirk on his lips. Oh, how many sleepless nights you spent dreaming of him staring at you like that and practically devouring you with his eyes.  

“Won't you beg for me a little, love?” He's too cocky for his own good but you decide to let it slide for now, your urges getting better of you.  

“Please, Jungkookie, make me feel good.” you keen in saccharine sweet voice. He doesn't need to be told twice, ripping the undergarments off your body. “Oh, yes!” you moan when he gives you first, experimental lick up your slick folds. He swirls his tongue over your clit, making you choke out a, “Right there, darling, right there.”  

Jungkook's certain his newfound favourite place in the world is going to be between your thighs. He's already addicted to your taste, to your smell. He lavishes your cunt with passion, devouring you like the finest meal. He loves the sounds you make, love the little whimpers and breathy moans. He wants to listen to them forever. 

He groans into your heat when you pull his hair, pulling away from your pussy with a wet pop. “Do it again,” he rasps against your core and that's probably the hottest thing you've ever heard. You grant his wish, repeating it every time he delivers a toe-curling suck to your sensitive bud. “You're dripping, my love. Is this all for me?” Jungkook asks, lifting his head up enough so you could see his lips and chin glistening in your arousal. He’s getting bolder again but you’re too consumed with your own pleasure to pay mind to it.

“All for you,” you murmur, the pads of your fingers trailing through his locks lightly. He closes his eyes, lets you massage his scalp for a brief moment. “You're doing so good, darling. You're going to make me come.” 

He takes it as a sign to continue, diving right into your cunt. He shows no mercy, bringing you to the edge of release. You wonder how could he possibly be so good at this already but then you remember who exactly your lover is– a son of Zeus can only be either a fast learner or natural.  

With one, final flick of his tongue on your clit the coil in your stomach tightens and you're coming, more slick gushing out of your and coating Jungkook's face in translucent release. He doesn't seem to be bothered though, licking his lips and chin obscenesly and moaning at the taste. Your hole clenches, needing to be filled.

Jungkook discards his tunic and now you have a perfect view of his sturdy muscles, the byproduct of his training with Phil. You almost drool at the sight, running your palms greedily over the wide expanses of his chest. When your finger ever-so-slightly brushes his nipple, you feel him chocking out a tiny moan. Smirking, you repeat the motion.  

“Y/N, love, please don't tease me. I need to be inside you so bad.” he husks when your other hand travels down his abdomen and trails over his aching cock. 

“As you wish, darling.” With shaky limbs you manage to turn him on his backside again. Right when you're about to pulls his undergarments down, you hear something rustling between the trees. You stop abruptly. 

“Did you hear that?” you whisper, squinting your eyes to see better although there's no use for that during the night.  

Jungkook furrows his brows. “Hear what?” he mumbles and props himself on his elbows to look, but then you see it yourself. A glimpse of white fur that can only belong to– 

“That stupid horse!” you shriek, covering your bare breats with your hands.

“What?!” Jungkook yells, equally as shocked as you. He scrambles for his tunic to cover your modest figure. “Pegasus! Get out of here!” The magical creature neighs in response and peeks from between the bushes, looking at you pitifully. 

“Oh gods, he saw me naked!” you wail, mortified, as Jungkook gets up to scold Pegasus. “I'm gonna die from embarrassment!”  

Jungkook angrily gestures to the horse to leave you two alone, standing only in his undergarments. You want to laugh at how absurd this whole situation is. Pegasus nods with his head bowed down. Fulfilling the order, he spreads his wings and flies away somewhere. You hope far, far away from here.

“Hey,” You hear Jungkook's soft voice. He takes your hands in his and uncovers your red face. “We're alone.” he says, smiling apologetically at you.  

“I can't believe your stupid, magical horse almost watched us fuck."

“Keyword: almost.”

You cry out, burying your face in his neck.  “It's not funny!” you huff, punching him in the chest however you know he probably hasn't even felt it. But you did feel pretty much though; it hurts like you've hit a stone.  

Jungkook chuckles, placing a kiss on the crown of your head. “Do you want to continue?” he asks, rubbing your back soothingly.  

You look up to meet his eyes. “Do you?” you repeat with raised eyebrows.  

There it goes again, the damned sly smirk. “I'm still very much hard, love, and I'm afraid it won't go away that easily.”

“Yeah?” you murmur, thoughts about Pegasus and his prying horse eyes showed to the back of your head. “And what are you gonna do about it?” You push him onto his back, fingers grasping the material of his undergarments.  

Jungkook swallows before saying, “I'm gonna fuck you so hard you will never even think of leaving me.”

Biting your lip, you slide his undergarments down his toned legs. His cock is just as perfect as the rest of him–long, curved at the top and flaming red, craving to be touched. Using the precum that has gattered at the tip you smear it along his shaft, watching in awe as his face confronts in pleasure. He lets you play with him for a while like that, drive him to the insanity with your teasing.  

Just when you're about to position yourself over his cock, he stops you. “Have you ever done this before?” he asks, although he already knows the answer.  

“I did. Once,” you answer honestly. “But it didn't mean anything to me.” You slowly sink down on him, welcoming the slightly burning stretch with a satisfied moan.  

Jungkook hisses, digs his fingers into your waist and you're sure he'll leave bruising marks. “And what does this mean?” he asks, almost chokes out feeling your hot canal enveloping his length.  

“Everything,” you breathe out, lifting yourself off him just to slam down hard afterwards. “You mean the world to me.” you say; it’s priactially a whisper. As you're staring into his wide eyes, you can see your love for him reflected in them. It all feels like a dream you don't wanna wake up from.  

“I love you, Y/N,” he confesses and you know he means it. “From the moment I saw you for the first time I knew you would be the one for me.”  

A lonely tear slides down your cheeks and he catches it with his thumb. “I love you too, Jungkook.” you murmur.  

He smiles like a fool, opens his mouth to say more but you shut him up with a kiss and your hips establishing a steady rhythm on his cock. You pull away from his lips, saliva dribbling down both of your chins but you don't care, bouncing on him like your life depends on it. Maybe it does a little.  

“So good,” you whimper, the tip of his cock almost hitting your cervix with every stroke.  

Underneath you Jungkook looks like he might die right here and there, his chest sweaty and heaving with every breath he takes. He has a vice grip on your waist, guiding you up and down his cock. To your surprise you find yourself liking that side of him, the rough touch of his hands on your skin. You wonder what he's capable of if you push him a little further.  

“Oh, gods!” you keen when his cock brushes past the spot that makes you see stars. He fucks into you just in time for you to add, “Just like that.”  

As much as Jungkook enjoys seeing you bouncing on top of him, he grows tired of just laying still and taking it. In one, swift motion, he flips you onto your back. You squel after the sudden change of positions but that quickly morphs into a loud moan as he rams his cock inside your cunt.

He picks up the pace, making you feel every inch of him. He stares down where your body ends and his begins, watching his cock disappearing in your hole. You urge him to look at you instead, pull him down to leave a messy kiss on his lips. “Shit, you're so perfect,” he marvels, palms squeezing every part of your body he could reach. “Look at you, taking my cock like a good girl,” he spits, leaning to suck a mark on your neck. “Tell me how much you like it.”

“I love it. Love your cock,” you say over the slapping sounds of your skin meeting his. “You're so good to me Jungkookie, so good.” As you feel another, powerful orgasm approaching, you slip your fingers down your body to toy with your clit.  

Jungkook catches it and snatches your hand away, replacing with his own. He rubs your sensitive bud fast and hard, making you cry out his name in a broken moan. “Are you gonna come for me, love? I want you to cream my cock like a good girl.” he rasps, slithering himself inside you with enough force to knock the breath out of your lungs. 

“Yes, yes!” you chant, feeling your cunt spasming around his length. He curses, fucking you through your high. “Kiss me, Jungkookie–please,” you nearly sob and he obliges right away, plunging his tongue inside your mouth to dance with yours. It's messy and wet but you're relishing in it.  

He pants against your mouth, his pace getting sloppy. “I'm not gonna last longer,” he stammers out. “Your pussy feels too good, I'm–”

“Shh,” you whisper, cupping his cheeks in your palms. “It's okay. You did so good, darling.” He moans at the praise, leans down to bury his face in your neck. 

“Oh gods, I'm gonna–ah, shit,” he groans, thrusts into your cunt a few more times and then he comes, spilling himself inside. “I love you, I love you.” he repeats, breathing heavily down your neck.

You wrap your arms around him, smiling to yourself. “And I love you.” you respond. “But please, for the love of Zeus, get off me or you'll suffocate me.”

Jungkook chuckles, lifting himself off your body. He props himself on his hand and stares down at you. You’ve never felt so happy. It’s right here, with him, that you feel the most acomplished. You wish to make it last forever. He places a kiss on your mouth, a sweet, quick peck before he crashes his body next to yours.

He pulls you to his side and you could feel his heart beating underneath the palm you placed on his chest. It beats with the love he has for you. 

“When do you think you will be able to go again?” you ask.

Jungkook cocks his head. “What? Are you proposing a round two?”

“Not exactly,” you quip, your nail ever so slightly brushing over his nipple. “Want you in my mouth this time.”

“You little minx.”

You smirk. If his already semi-hard cock is anything to go by, you have a long night ahead of yourself.

[lavenderbexlatte]

sitting pretty

stray kids  2.4k words female reader insert Dom!Reader x Sub!Bang Chan EXPLICIT/NSFW

🖤 warnings: dom/sub dynamics, hard dom antics, degradation, dom title “miss” sub title “puppy,” kink negotiation, collar and leash play, nipple piercings 🖤

🚨🚨 always communicate clearly and thoroughly with your partner before you add new kinks/kinds of play to the bedroom!

connect with me! / masterlist

Everyone who thinks Bang Chan likes to be in charge everywhere, including in bed, should see him now.

You know how he comes across: controlled, silly but largely responsible, self-sacrificial and humble, the oldest and most experienced in his group of shiny-eyed not-so-new industry blood. And he is all of those things. To his own detriment, you think. He thinks too much, worries too much about what he’s doing and saying and how he looks from the outside.

Here, he doesn’t have to worry at all.

Chan had arrived at your place half an hour before, in the dead of the night after a long day of schedules, exhausted to the bone but eager for some positive attention. Well. You have plenty of attention and affection to give, even if it comes out in…interesting ways.

The two of you found your way into the bedroom quickly enough. Clothes were shed, terms of the scene laid out, the traffic-light safeword system instilled like usual. And now, you’re slowing it all down, just enjoying the delicious view of your boyfriend as he blushes and fidgets his way through your latest innovation.

“Is that too tight?” you ask.

“No.”

You reach down to slip a finger under the sturdy black collar that circles Chan’s neck, making sure that there’s enough give. The digit fits easily, so you’re not worried that he’s lying and risking harm just to get more stimulation.

“I said it was okay,” he says good-naturedly, eyes still on the floor.

“Are you talking back?” you tease.

You nudge his head upward with your hand as you draw it back, and he meets your gaze. The two of you cut quite the figure in the dim light of your bedroom. He’s flushed all the way down to his toes. You know that for certain; he’s nude except for the collar, knelt on the floor at your feet as you lounge on the edge of your bed, shirt long gone and breasts bare to the room.

His hands are clasped neatly behind his back, and his cock is already standing out proudly, so hard even though you’ve barely started.

“No, miss,” he says.

“You’re gonna be my good boy, aren’t you?” you coo.

He looks mortified, self-conscious but also so, so intrigued. You raise your other hand and it amuses you how he follows it with his eyes.

His collar isn’t just an accessory tonight. Clutched in your hand, you have the end of a thin leather leash, brand-new and still creased from the way it was coiled in your toybox until Chan could come break it in with you. The other end is clipped to the thick O-ring on his collar, and as you give an experimental tug, the collar bends toward you easily, making Chan gasp as it digs into his skin.

“I’ll be good,” he agrees.

“You’d better be.”

Your hand dips down, further this time, and tweaks one of the black barbells that are pierced through each of Chan’s nipples. He jumps at your touch, and you huff out a laugh. Though the piercings have gotten much less sensitive over time, he still acts like they’re fresh during playtimes. Maybe the arousal makes the sensation more pronounced. You’re not sure. You just know how much you love it when he’s whining and squirming for you.

“Sitting pretty for me,” you say, “Listening and keeping that mouth shut, like a good boy.”

He just regards you, his ears flaming red. You’ve said much more to him in the bedroom before, you know his limits and his tells well enough. He’s not truly uncomfortable, just embarrassed at the mingling praise and backhanded compliments. You keep going.

“On a leash like a dog.”

A whine slips out of Chan’s mouth before he can stop it, his gaze back on the floor. Jackpot.

“Oh, you like that?” you ask, “You like being my dumb little puppy? Only good for listening and doing as you’re told?”

“I don’t mind it, miss,” he says, voice barely loud enough to hear.

You slide forward more on the bed, bringing Chan into easier reach. He’s so pretty like this, just waiting for you to say something, to do something, to touch him more. 

His hair is blonde now, recently bleached, all wild natural curls in a vivid near-platinum color. You tangle your fingers in his hair indulgently, right at his hairline, and tug sharply so that he has no choice but to look up at you again.

“Are you shy, puppy?” you say condescendingly.

“A little bit, miss,” he admits.

“At least you’re honest.”

You fall back onto the bed, laying down more fully and propping yourself up on your elbows so that you can still see him. At this angle, your pussy is level with his face, and you spread your legs apart as if to give him a better look. He can’t see anything, since you’re still clothed on your lower half, but you watch Chan’s throat and the collar move as he swallows.

“Eager,” you tease.

He’s blunt, “Yes.”

“Can’t do anything unless you undress me, puppy,” you encourage.

Slowly, Chan unfolds his hands from behind his back, and he comes forward to slide his hands under the waistband of your lounge pants. You lift your hips so that he can pull them over your ass and ease them down your legs. He discards the pants, taking his sweet-ass time on it, and then moves to pull your panties down, too.

When you’re bare to him, he sits back on his heels to wait for your next instructions. It makes you nearly purr with satisfaction. Such an obedient boy. He’s always pliant and eager to please, but there’s something heavier and more desperate to it tonight, with the new power dynamic that you’re exploring together.  

You tug on the leash, urging him forward. He follows, leaning into the gentle pull on his neck, until you’ve guided him between your thighs. He’s essentially crawling to you on hand and knees, and you can tell that he’s aware of exactly how he looks doing it.

“Do you want to taste?” you ask.

“Yes,” he says, immediately.

“Go ahead.”

Chan reaches out, as if to grab hold of your thighs before he begins, but you stop him.

“No hands,” you instruct.

“But…but…”

“Can puppies use their hands?” you ask.

“…No,” he says, grudging.

You can tell that the puppy play is embarrassing him as much as it’s arousing him. It interests you. Some people are really into pet play for its own sake. They like the pet names and the mindless role of it all, just happy to explore in a new way. 

But for Chan, it seems perversely satisfying in the same way that degradation can be. It’s not that he loves being your puppy, but he loves you flexing your power over him. He loves trying out anything for you, just once, with permission and tender attentive care.

Truly your best boy. Best boy in the world.

“You can always safeword,” you remind him gently.

But he shakes his head. “Green.”

“Make me cum then,” you say, “But no hands.”

You give another tug on the leash as if to motivate him, but Chan doesn’t need any more encouragement.

He dives in fully, locating your clit with practiced precision and tracing circles around it, then over it, with an experienced tongue. Still propped up on your elbows, you can see his eyes flutter shut, long lashes falling against his cheek. He really is so beautiful, still knelt there on the floor between your legs, licking and sucking and kissing at your pussy like he’s got no more important task in the world.

The embarrassed burn is starting to fade from his ears, leaving him just his usual arousal-flushed pink that you love so much. He’s relaxing as he pleasures you, quietly taking his cues from your small sounds and hips grinding into his face.

“I missed you with blonde hair,” you say, through the arousal that’s steadily building and clouding your mind.

He laughs, the sound stifled as he continues to eat you out with abandon. His arms are still neatly by his sides, from what you can see, and really, he doesn’t need them. Circling your clit, sucking the bud between his lips, fucking his tongue into you gently…he’s plenty good with just his mouth.

You decide he needs a bit more of a challenge, and you tug on his leash so that it digs into the smooth sinewy column of his pretty neck.

A strangled word that almost sounds like begging catches your attention.

Chan is, first and foremost, eager to please. If a scene is focused on you, he doesn’t beg or even ask for very much. He’s not a brat, that’s for certain. The perfect service top, giving to a fault, much the same way that he likes to be in the other areas of his life. It’s part of the reason you feel the need to take full control and spoil him so much.

But now, here, as you wrap the end of the leash around your wrist and increase the pressure on his throat, he breaks.

“More.”

It’s just a rasp, a gentle whining request that has you breathing out a laugh through your own pleasure.

“What was that?” you ask, “You want me to pull harder, hm?”

He just looks up at you, eyes shiny and slightly glazed. His tongue is still moving against you in perfect time, and you give him a dark smile.

“My poor dumb puppy, so pussy-drunk he can’t even string two words together,” you say.

You give another tug on the leash, harder than all the previous times. It’s not enough force to pull him away from your core, but it’s plenty to cut off his breathing for a split second. When you let the line go slack in your hand, Chan gasps in a breath that turns almost immediately into a helpless moan.

Satisfied with his reaction, you give him a moment to recover. But as you tune into him for any sounds or signs of discomfort, you notice a very distinct sound of skin on skin.

He’s not touching you. But if you’re not mistaken, he IS touching…

“What are you doing?” you ask sharply.

Chan freezes. His mouth stops moving, that skin-on-skin sound stops, and you can feel him huff out an anxious breath against your inner thigh.

“What are you doing?” you repeat.

“I…” he hesitates.

You sit up more fully, and Chan’s eyes are trained on your face as you look down to see him with his cock in hand, slick with precome.

“Y-you…you didn’t say I couldn’t…” he mumbles, letting go of his cock reluctantly.

“I didn’t say you could, either,” you counter sharply.

“I’m sorry, I just-”

You tut. “Does eating pussy just make you that fucking horny, puppy? So horny that you have to jerk yourself off without asking first?”

Almost imperceptibly, Chan nods.

“Use your words,” you say.

“I do love making you feel good, miss,” he says.

“That’s not what I asked.”

He hesitates. “Y-yes, eating pussy makes me that horny, miss. I couldn’t help it.”

“See, not that hard, is it, puppy? Using your words?”

Chan nods again.

You give him a soft smile, a genuine one. As much as you love pushing his buttons and making him squirm with the obscene things you can coax out of his mouth, you love him most of all. He returns it in kind, a shy little smile.

“You’re not gonna touch yourself without permission, are you?” you ask.

“No, miss.”

“Good boy.”

Another tug on the leash is all it takes to get his mouth back on you, the hot wet slide against your clit after a period of rest hitting just right, your nerves prickling with the sharp stimulation. You’re suddenly much closer than before, and you let your hips roll into the pressure shamelessly.

“Make me cum, and then we’ll see about you,” you say.

Chan mumbles a reply that you can’t quite hear, but you’re not about to make him repeat himself and risk breaking his stride. You’ve let your eyes slide closed, dedicated only to enjoying.

The response from practically choking him with the collar was absolutely delicious, so you wrap the leash another loop around your fist and tug. Chan moans, cut off into a gasp in the middle by the lack of air, and he leans his head against your thigh as he catches his breath.

“Miss, if you keep doing that…” Chan breathes.

“What, you’ll cum all over yourself like a filthy little pup?” you chide.

He just whines, and continues his careful assault on your folds, determined to make you cum before he loses his mind entirely.

Fortunately, the constant and steady feeling of his mouth on you, the obscene sounds of your wetness on his tongue, the little noises he’s making under his breath as he’s savoring you, all combine to drive you closer and closer to your high.

You peel open your eyes, and the sight of him is the final thing you need to push yourself over the edge.

Kneeling on the hardwood, blonde hair mussed and curly and wild, eyes shut, dick leaking precome against his thigh, hands once again clasped behind his back as if to fully resist the temptation to touch after he’s been told not to.

Gorgeous.

Your back bows as you cum, and you have one hand tugging at the leash and the other hand fisted in Chan’s hair, holding his mouth against you as you gasp out his name. He dutifully licks you through the tremors of it, not stopping until you’ve begun to nearly writhe away from him from the overstimulation.

“See, what did I say?” you tell him, as you catch your breath, falling fully onto your back to stretch out, “Gotta keep that mouth busy.”

“Is it my turn, miss?” he asks.

He sounds impatient, a little bit of bite leaking into his words, and you grin to yourself. You turn your torso until your spine pops, releasing some of the tension in your bones, and you swing back up into a sitting position. Chan has relaxed to sit fully on his heels, just watching you with big puppy eyes.

“You’re lucky I’m so nice,” you tease, ruffling his hair affectionately, “If you pull another stunt like that, I’ll have to put you in cuffs.”

[necros-writing-stuff]

Fucked up love interests you say? Can I request Eden getting sick of Avery keeping his kid from the woods, so Eden breaks into Avery's place, ties to to a chair and makes him watch as Eden ruin's his kid. He wanted to rail them in his cabin, but fucking them stupid in front of their dad works too. Better if it starts as noncon, but the PC is addicted to Eden's cock by the end.

Would Avery get off on watching this, even with how much he hates Eden?

Got a little carried away here, so under the cut for length

Eden comes into town looking for supplies, same old, same old, only this time his eyes end up falling on non other than stuck-up Avery coming out of an expensive looking jewelers with the prettiest little thing Eden has ever seen following soon after.

He's overjoyed when you call out "Father!" to get the businessman's attention. He's your dad, not your daddy. That's good, Eden doesn't like the thought of that fucker having touched you.

Immediately, fantasies about bringing you home and having you sit in his lap so you can cockwarm him while he reads rush through his mind, and the hunter finds himself trailing the two of you to Avery's car. And memorising the make, model, and licence plate.

It takes so long to find out where you live. Big, fancy house with a pristine garden - no suprise there. Then he has to watch and find out when you'll be home alone. Easier to get you that way. Then he had to call in favours from Bailey to get some stuff to disable the over the top security system.

One day, when he's walking past, he bumps into Avery by accident. The rich prick had the audacity to sneer at him and tell him to get out of the neighbourhood, that his mere presence is bringing down the property value, before shoving past and entering his gated community. Looks like someone hasn't grown since school. If he'd stayed a moment longer, Eden would have started throwing punches.

Instead, Eden's plans to get you alone and take you away secretly morph into something else. Something more vengeful.

When the time comes, he slips in through a window and silently makes his way up to the master bedroom. Avery sleeps peacefully, in silk pyjamas of all things, and the hunter gags him before he begins binding the man. He wakes up half way through, but its too late at that point.

Avery struggles against the rope and tries to scream, skin going red at how angry he is. Its funny to see, actually. Such a high and mighty man reduced to this. The hunter drags his catch out of his room, across the hall, and into the room of his sleeping prey.

You wake up, hearing the racket, and freeze in shock at what you see before you yell out for your father. Still, you hide beneath your blanket - as if it'll protect you from anything. You don't need to be scared anyways, you're about to have the ride of your life.

Eden drops Avery on the floor, maybe purposely letting his head bounce against the wood for his own entertainment, before marching over to you and ripping away the covers.

Kick and scream all you like, the hunter finds it easy to tear your clothes off and wrestle you into submission. You're so small and delicate, you need to be protected and cared for properly - and considering what happening now, clearly the businessman isn't capable of doing that.

Just like your father, Eden ties you up. Unlike him, you're not gagged. He wants to hear you beg for him at some point tonight. Wants to hear you moan out when you cum on his prick.

"You did a good job making this one," he praises as his hands trail all over your bare skin. Avery still flails on the floor, voice going hoarse from all that screaming he's been doing. Tough luck, he's stuck until Eden decides otherwise.

You're crying and shaking, begging to be let go as the hunter flips you onto your back and spreads your legs to get a good look at that pretty little hole. His mouth waters, and he can't help himself from having a taste.

He's never gone down on someone before. He hopes you enjoy the way his tongue teases, the way he fucks you open with it.

"Please, mister, please stop!" your voice quivers as you say it, obviously affected by the stimulation he's giving you. Maybe you're just trying to put up a front for dear old dad, so he doesn't think you're a whore. It's okay, Eden will still give you what you need.

Your taste is amazing, he thinks. You're amazing, body so perfect, voice so sweet. He could tongue-fuck you all day, but tonight he has other things in mind.

The hunter is breathing heavily by the time he comes up for air, desperately hard in his pants. He nearly tears them when he shoves the fabric down his thighs, letting his massive cock out and laying over you so you can see exactly how deep it will go. The thing reaches your belly-button.

Eyes wide, you try to wiggle away. "No, it's too big! Please, it'll hurt, mister, please-"

Not listening, Eden presses the thick head to your spit-slickened hole and starts pushing in, savouring how you gasp out and go stiff. A loud bump from the floor let's him know Avery is still trying to get loose. Frustrated screams tell him it's not coming along great.

Bottoming out, Eden leans over your body and starts fucking into you like an animal, squeezing out every whimper and whine that he can from between your lips.

Full, is how you feel. So incredibly full and it's hard to breathe from how this stranger batters your poor hole. Each drag of his dick against your gummy walls send a million jolts of pleasure through your body, and you want to cry harder from the guilt that it makes you feel.

Your father is there! Bound, being forced to watch as you're raped - as you enjoy being raped - in your own bed! Who was this man, anyways? A competitor? No, he's not dressed like a man your father would bother with. He looks wild and uncaring. Rugged. And unfortunately, handsome.

"Such a delicate thing, aren't you? You'll make a wonderful spouse when I get you home," he says as he pounds away, before turning once again to Avery. "You're not going to see them again after tonight. You don't deserve to have such a sweet thing as yours. Can't even protect them in your own home."

It makes you nauseous to hear the plans he has for you. That you're about to be abducted and kept god-knows where by this mad-man with a grudge. Will he hurt you? Will you be forever kept captive?

You can't look at your father. You can't see the heartbreak, anger, maybe even disgust that could be on his face. That would be a sight that would haunt you in your dreams, and you want your memories of him to be good ones. Like the times he takes you for icecream after you do well on tests, or takes you to wonderful parties where you can wear your best clothes. Instead, you study the wild man above you. Focus on the stranger's long hair and muscled body. Try to steady your breathing and hold in moans as a coil forms in your stomach.

One last time, you attempt to get away, only to be pulled right back onto his length. The change in angle makes it hit something inside of you just right, and you keen in a high pitched tone. So good, it feels so good, and you hate this man for it.

Eden loves the dazed look in your eyes as he hammers at that special spot. How he can see all logic leave, replaced by lust and a need to get off. So he stays consistent in his movements, giving you exactly what you need, so he can feel you tighten around him, ready to milk his cock like a good little pet.

Back arching, your whole body shakes as you reach your peak, incoherent babbling falling from your mouth. Its all so hot, so addicting to see, and the hunter joins you in your bliss soon after.

Dick still twitching, Eden stays buried inside of you. He'll be starting up another round in a minute or two, but he wants to treasure this moment. Treasure how you've become putty in his hands, not even whining when he leans over and kisses you. You have such soft lips.

"Good pet. There's plenty more where that came from, I promise. You just have to keep being so well behaved, just for me," he whispers into your ear, placing butterfly kisses along your neck as he does so.

Reluctantly, he pulls back. A certain someone had gone quiet, and the last thing he needs is the bastard getting free and starting a fight.

Luckily, Avery is still where he left him. Must have gave up fighting, instead laying there with his cheek smushed against the polished floorboards, breathing hard through his nose.

"Tired already? Come on, you've barely moved. Fucking pathetic, really. What, don't love your kid enough to make a real effort to save them?" there's no reaction from the businessman, so Eden pushes further. "Nah, you're all performative. Only pretending to care so they'll be obedient and keep your reputation up, right?"

That gets his attention. Earns Eden a seething glare that only makes him laugh. Then it's back to you. To caressing your cheek as he starts pumping his hips again.

"I'll care for you, genuinely. I promise. You'll never have to doubt me," he coos, a hand coming between your legs to play with your sensitive sex. You arch up into his touch with a moan, too tired to deny your body the things it seeks.

Preserve your energy, you tell yourself. Be pliant and good so you can fight back later. Don't think about how right it feels to be impaled on this man's prick, how mind-blowing your orgasm was.

Limp, covered in his own sweat, and full of solemn defeat, Avery watches from across the room. Sorrow is what he feels, along with rope burn across his skin perfect, cared for skin. Sorrow that, yet again, Eden has won. That he can't break free of these ropes despite working so hard to keep in shape. That his only child is being defiled by such a brute.

Avery can't do anything as his baby is fucked into oblivion over and over again. Can't tune out the moment you stop begging for it to end and instead ask for more. You're only trying to please the hunter, he reasons. Only being submissive so you aren't hurt, you're smart like that.

At least, that's what he hopes.

[chiwhorei]

ctrl

paring: h. shinsou x fem!reader

genre: smut, dark content, 18+ minors dni

word count: 1.4k

warnings: noncon, coercion, mind control, inappropriate use of a quirk, choking, a smidge of dacryphilia, a little degradation, mentions of a strip club, reader is an exotic dancer

a/n: so this is only day four five of kinktober and i’m already late. truly, not surprised but still sorry. i would rather finish pieces that i am proud of than just posting something within the barriers of a 24 hour period that i don’t like.

hymn: irl (ft. prelow ) by dsny

kinktober 2020 - noncon

It’s no secret that Shinsou Hitoshi is an exceptional hero. Passing him on his patrol, you’ll be met with a sweet smile and wave. He keeps Toyko safe and secure with a certain Kennedy-like charm. But Shinsou has a secret predilection he would rather keep from the general public. A vice he likes to let out at a dusty, rundown strip club on the unsavory side of town. A vice he likes to unleash onto you.

“Come on now kitten, I know you want to make me happy.” His voice rings from behind you, that familiar, rough tone makes every hair stand on end like exposed wires. The club is empty and sad for a Friday night, exactly the atmosphere that attracts the presence of a certain pro-hero. You want to tell the violet haired casanova to fuck off, but you know much better than that.

“What’s the matter, princess? Cat gotcha tongue?” He tuts, wrapping deft fingers around your arm. You’ve heard this song before, and you don’t want to dance. His grip is bruising, turning you around to face him.

“There’s my sweet girl. See, how hard was that?” His questions are always specifically grating, and you know it’s purposeful. You glare at Shinsou as best you can through the dimmed lights, pulling your arms from his hold. He laughs at the show, amused at the fight you always put up.

Shinsou pulls you forward by your hips and you stumble into his chest. He reaches behind you to grope your ass roughly. You’re smart enough not to let the sounds bubbling up in the back of your throat actually escape.

“You always wear the cutest little outfits when I come around. Did you pick out these panties just for me?” He asks, skimming his fingers across the purple lace on your hip, snapping it against your skin. Trying to walk away is pointless, and Shinsou revels at the knowledge that you aren’t going to get a chance to escape. All he has to do now, is get you to answer him.

“I don’t know why we play this little game of petulance every time. You know how tonight is going to end.” Shinsou’s head dips right by your ear, brushing his lips against the shell. The fingers skimming your ass move to flit against your pussy, making your head fall onto his chest, you fist the fabric of his crisp dress shirt. It’s pathetic how easily he can get you. Every fucking time. The few patrons of the club around you are either ignoring the two of you, or enjoying the show. No one is going to stop Shinsou, no one ever does.

“You always cream so pretty for me when you let me take control. Just say the word darling, and I’ll take care of you. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” His words drip onto you like syrup, sounding sweet in a way that makes teeth rot. As Shinsou’s digits press against your core, an unfortunate, pitchy moan rips from within you.

Damnit.

You can hear Shinsou’s laugh like he’s submerged you in water. The world around is both the most silent and the most loud in these moments. This feeling, his quirk wrapped around you, a blanket of stiff wool. It’s familiar, it’s terrifying and comforting. You can feel everything acutely, the stroke of his hand on your cheek, brushing away the tears that have started to escape.

“No need to cry, kitten. We’re gonna have some fun. Follow me.” His command has your feet moving, you can see your hand in his in front of you, but everything is detached and foggy.

Shinsou likes the private room at the very end of the hallway, second to last door on the left. Every time. He directs you inside and sits on the plush couch. You stand in front of him with glassy eyes. So beautiful, so tame.

“You know what comes next, kitten. Take off the bra and panties. Slowly.” He says, unbuttoning his pants to release his already throbbing cock. As you drop the offending lace garments, lavendar in color and frilly, in your cloudy vision you see Shinsou stroking himself. He’s not one to waste time.

“Come here, princess. Take a seat.” Shisou pats his leg, reaching out to grab your hand, steadying you as you climb on top of his thighs clumsily. He places your palms against his chest to keep your rigid form balanced. His cock is upright against his abdomen, centimeters from your cunt. He likes you best this way, completely naked and drooling on his pant leg.

“You always put up the cutest little fight, but here you are making a mess that I’m going to have to clean up.” One hand holds your hip, thumbing circles into the soft flesh while the other moves towards your pussy. Your violet-haired captor crooks his middle finger in between your folds, teasing your lips before moving up to your clit, pinching harshly. The feeling would make your hips buck if you had any autonomy. Shinsou rubs melodic circles into the bundle of nerves, igniting your body in frozen fire. There’s no way to shy away from his touch, he is holding your hand over an open flame with no ability to jolt away from the burn.

Two of his long, thin fingers push into your tight, uninviting walls with an ease that makes your blood boil. It’s infuriating how good he is at this, and it’s even more infuriating how your body reacts. Because it feels so good.

Shinsou pulls his fingers out to examine, strings of your slick covering his digits and reflecting off of the reddened lights of the private room.

“Such a sloppy little cunny you have.” He says, rubbing his fingers together, “Here, have a taste baby. Open your mouth.” You head his command, opening wide so he can shove your own arousal past your lips.

“Go on kitten, suck.” As you swallow around the obstruction, Shinsou pulls you up by the ass to angle himself at your puffy entrance. He pulls your hips to crash downwards, fully burying his impressive length inside. Your pussy tightens at the intrusion, and you would scream if you had ownership of your voice. It hurts, it always does. But the lines of pain and pleasure are just as foggy as your mind.

Always the generous lover, Shinsou gives you a moment to adjust before he begins rutting into you. His fingers still find a home in your mouth, pressing down on your tongue so that spit pools and escapes onto your chin. You gag around him, the feeling of being so full makes you clench around his shaft. His pace becomes relentless, putting both hands to your hips to bounce your body against him harshly. His head rolls back in pleasure, twitching at the feeling of your helpless, conquered body snug around his cock. You can feel that familiar tension in your belly. Another stolen orgasm crawling up your throat and coating your tongue.

Just as the first wave of pleasure is creeping around you, your head comes up from underwater. You can move again, you feel the fog evaporate around you only to be replaced with the feeling of Shinsou’s hand wrapped around your neck. He administers pressure to your throat and you can’t help your eyes rolling into the back of your head. You’re no longer at the behest of the pro-hero’s quirk, but there’s still no sovereignty. Not with the chasing feeling of release on your doorstep.

“Be a good girl for me and cum, I know you want to.” Before you realize it, your hips are grinding down desperately. The coil wrapping tightly through every muscle-fibre snaps, propelling your body into a type of bliss that feels like drug-use. You pulsate around Shinsou, milking his own orgasm to follow closely with a resounding wail of your name. He releases into your swollen cunt in thick spurts as you ride out your own, sick high.

Exhausted, your body falls slack in Shinsou’s arms, body slick with sweat and tears, wetting Shinsou’s shirt under you. He holds your shaking body tightly to his own, breathing slowly returning to normal.

“See? I told you I would take care of you, kitten.”

You want to bang your weak fits against him, you want to protest, argue, scream. But you can’t, because he’s right.

Shinsou is always right.

all writing is dymphnasprose’s original content, please do not repost or modify. do no read my content as asmr.©️

[hongism]

tangled - k. yeosang 18+

day 2 of kinktober: blindfolds - kang yeosang warnings: blindfolds, sensory deprivation, sensation play, temperature play, wax play, brief mentions of yeosang being a vampire, biting, explicit smut, unprotected sex, vampire!yeosang wc: 1.8k genre/rating: pwp, smut, 18+ 

​​​​

Deft fingers fasten a tight knot in the silk band behind your head before trailing down the back of your neck and massaging the skin there. You’re expecting the touch, but nonetheless, you shiver at the sensation. The dark veil over your eyes prevents you from seeing anything beyond its silk confines.

“Is it too tight, precious?” Yeosang says, his cool tone breaching the silence and hitting your ears in a pleasant way. You merely shake your head in denial, which brings a chuckle from Yeosang before he trails his cold fingers down the slopes of your sides. You hear him shift behind you and wait with bated breath for whatever his next movements are going to be. They don’t happen right away; in fact, you count to twenty-three before he touches you again, then you’re being backed up until your knees hit the edge of the bed. You wait for impact, for him to push you back and lay you out over the mattress, but that impact doesn’t come. Instead, his lips brush over yours. It’s the softest touch possible from lips that hold no warmth, yet your gut twists and churns with the coils of arousal.

You let him control the kiss, hands wandering to wrap around his neck, and he drags his tongue over your lower lip. He pushes the wet muscle into your mouth when your lips drop open for him, a hum of approval vibrating against your teeth. You relax your jaw and let him explore your mouth without resistance. The way he kisses you is almost addicting, as addicting as the chills that run down your spine when his fangs graze your neck or when he fucks you hard and fast.

Tonight though, his pace is languid and smooth. Part of it is due to the fact that he only just woke up not too long ago. On the other hand, he is taking full advantage of you being blindfolded right now, letting you feel every flexing muscle and ghosting breath. He must delight in the goosebumps that dance over your skin because he chuckles when he pulls away from your mouth. All you can do is wait for his next touch. It comes soon enough, thank goodness, but it catches you off-guard because the movement is much quicker and intense than the last. Yeosang slides his hands over your ass and hoists you up onto his waist. There’s a brief moment where it feels like you’ve entered a free fall, then the mattress cushions your fall. The air in your lungs escapes you with a whooshing oof, fanning over Yeosang’s face, no doubt, and he doesn’t even give you time to recover before his hands and lips are on you again.

This time, he lets his lips travel lower. He traces the edge of your jaw, tongue poking out to caress the skin, then he scoots down to the column of your neck. He always says that it’s his favorite part of you, and you always assumed that it was because he liked to feed from your neck rather than anywhere else. That is until one night he revealed that it was merely because you always put your neck on display, and the temptation to lay marks all over your skin never leaves his mind. Thus you aren’t all too surprised when he spends extra night lavishing the skin there. Thanks to the blindfold, your senses are heightened to a new extreme, and every little touch causes new shock waves of arousal to blossom in your gut.

It’s like nothing you’ve ever experienced before. You’ve only been deprived of one sense, yet it feels like your body is on fire. Yeosang continues to nip and tug at the skin of your neck. He slides lower to find the junction of your neck and shoulder, fangs slipping out only to tease not to make you bleed. When he pulls back, a small whine escapes you against your will. Yeosang huffs out a laugh and brings his hands up to cradle your face. You subconsciously nuzzle into the touch, pressing a kiss to the side of his palm.

Yeosang drags the flat of his hands down to your shoulder and continues onwards until he finds your wrists. He tugs them upwards one at a time, and even though you’re expecting the brush of silk, it still elicits a gasp from your lips. Yeosang continues to move at the same slow pace even as he ties your wrists to the bed frame with that soft silk. He leaves enough room for you to slip out of them, but you just twist the material around your palm and secure yourself to the bed frame. Yeosang chuckles at your eager movements and presses a kiss to the inside of your wrist once he finishes tying the silk.

“You’re so so beautiful, my love,” Yeosang exhales after a moment of silence. His touch disappears before you have a chance to respond. You release a whine of complaint, tightening your grip on Yeosang’s neck to keep him from leaving you. “Shh, be patient, darling. Let me get the candle, okay?”

“Okay,” you mutter back as you wiggling a bit under Yeosang’s weight.

“Are you still certain about this?” Yeosang asks all of a sudden. You can’t see his gaze but you do feel it, sharp eyes trailing over your features and searching for an answer. You nod a few times. It must not be enough for Yeosang because he clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth and speaks again less than a second later. “I need you to use your words, precious.”

“Yes, I’m certain.”

Yeosang hums in approval, hands dropping to your thighs and pushing them apart in one swift movement. The pretty jeweled plug he put in you earlier still sits between your legs, and you push your hips up a little to show it off. Yeosang slaps his hand against the inside of your thigh, reveling in the soft gasp it pulls from your lips, then he closes his lithe fingers around the head of the plug. His movements are slow and deliberate as he tugs it out of your clenching walls. The sensation of being empty after so long brings a frown to your lips, but Yeosang doesn’t let you stay empty for long. He presses the head of his cock to your entrance, teasing you slightly with small thrusts, then he buries himself fully in your wet heat. A broken groan escapes him. Air hisses through gritted teeth as you clench hard around his member.

You expect him to start fucking you right away, but he doesn’t do anything. It takes a moment for you to catch onto what he’s doing. The only reason you catch on at all is because warm oil drips over your bare torso. You flinch at the unexpected impact, and Yeosang’s hands brush over your skin in an act of reassurance. He massages the oil into your body, rubbing in slow methodical circles until he’s pleased with the sight under him.

“Are you ready?” He asks again, still a breath of hesitation in his tone.

“Yes, baby, I’m ready,” you respond less than a second later. “Please.”

The plea is small yet impactful. Yeosang exhales a sharp hiss through his teeth, and you hear him shuffle around above you, cock twitching inside your tight walls. Finally, wax hits your skin. You release a drawn-out moan immediately upon contact, squeezing the silk around your palms tighter. Yeosang pulls his hips back. His cock drags against your velvet walls, and he revels in the way you tighten around him when he next pours wax across your body.

“Fuck, you feel so good around me, precious,” he groans. The bed dips on your right, and the angle of Yeosang’s hips against yours suddenly changes. His other hand doesn’t come down though; he must be keeping it up because wax dribbles closer to your collarbones. It hardens there almost immediately. You can feel the way it cakes on your skin, leaving a soothing burn atop the oil Yeosang rubbed over you earlier. Yeosang begins to build up a steady pace with his thrusts. His member hits the edge of your cervix with each swing of his hips, and the pleasant drag against your sweet spot causes moans to topple from your mouth without reservation. Your pleasured sounds only spur him on and cause him to move his hips faster.

It doesn’t take long for him to forget all about the candle and wax in favor of focusing on fucking you. His cock glides in and out of you, assisted by the abundance of arousal pooling between your legs. Yeosang hooks an arm under your leg and hoists it up over his shoulder, deepening the hit of his cock in you. The moans that tear through your chest are loud against the shell of Yeosang’s ear. He seems to enjoy them though, teeth grazing your neck without breaking the skin.

“Are you gonna cum for me, lovely?” He purrs, voice vibrating through your body.

“Y-Yes, yes, yes. Yeosang, I–”

“Shh, baby, cum for me, yeah?” His soft-spoken command is all you need to reach your climax. You cum hard, walls tightening hard around his cock, and a cry of pleasure falls from your lips. Yeosang leans in and presses a hot kiss to your mouth, eating up the moan in an instant. You fall still under his touch. Waves of pleasure ripple through you without cease. You don’t even realize when Yeosang reaches behind your head and unties the blindfold, eyes still squeezed shut and toes curled. Once it finally passes though, you open your eyes to find Yeosang’s sharp eyes blinking back at you with nothing but fondness. “Ready for a bath, my love?”

You almost nod right away before you notice that something is a bit different than usual. Then it hits you. Yeosang didn’t come.

“W-What about you?” You stammer out, motioning to where he’s still buried deep inside you. Yeosang teases his lower lip with his teeth then tucks your legs around his waist.

“That’s why I’m joining you in the bath, love.”

...

a/n: i tried something new with this one??? vampire yeosang is a sexc thought tho i couldn’t resist doing that, but i tried my best with the temperature play and did my research 👁👅👁

link to kinktober masterlist

taglist: @noonawriter​ @daniblogs164​ @felixity​ @okokokok123-45​ @jeonartemis​ @crescent-hwa​ @jertazz​ @wheresmymoniat​ @nlost21​ @lonely10vely​ @monbecaratstayarmy​ @hello-its-ya-boi​ @onyxblade01​​ @kimnamshiks​​ @poutychangbinnie​​ @toothlessshiber​​ @xxbluestrifexx​​ @lokihoeforhyunjin​​ @ice-cold-taeyong​​ @essantial​​ @blueish-sun​​ @etaerealboy​​ @notbeforelong​​ @wideawakeficrecs​​ @adestinyuwu​​ @simpforhyunjin​​ @naajix​​ @seoha​

unable to be tagged: @sailing-goddess-of-ateez @gingerale-addict 

[shiversdownyerspine]

10. Douse

Still alive and kickin, I can’t be stopped!

18+

Expected to be set back on your feet as Axel reaches your screen door, you feel your face flush when you realize he fully intends to carry you out like this in front of his brothers.

At the sound of the handle turning with a creak, you promptly start flailing.

"Axel I can walk, you know I can walk! Let me down!"

Your cries falls on deaf ears. The relentless man releases the door handle to adjust his grip; the hand on your thigh slides higher, taking your dress with it, while his other grabs the back of your knee. Thrashing reduced to a much more controllable wiggling, he kicks the door open and steps into the sunlight.

Squirming and praying your rear is still covered, you try a different angle, "I will answer any questions you have about my Phase, I promise!"

That brings him to a stop. You brace your hands as close to his shoulders as you can and push off, shoving yourself backwards to his front.

With a gasp you slide down his chest as his hand cups your side to steady your quick descent. Your bare feet lightly pat atop the stone of the patio. The oh so cold wet stone.

Jolting at the chill, you look around the watery murder scene before turning your attention to the two culprits standing face to face like they're in some sort of showdown; Otto and Oscar, to their credit, have pristine feet. But at the cost of becoming drowned rats. 

You hold back laughter, but allow a wide smile. Their hair is an utter mess.

Otto and Oscar are ripped from their stalemate at the sound of your voice, "I'm sorry to say, but you're going to have to put your water war on pause. We should get this started before the weather takes a turn." 

Your next sentence you mutter just loud enough, "That and before a certain somebody gets impatient. And tries to carry people again."

The hand still at your side gives a soft warning squeeze that has you quickly scurrying over in the direction of your patio furniture before he can grab you up. You're not going to take any chances, you'd like to keep your feet on the ground thank you very much.

The younger brothers glance up at the sky to see rain clouds on the horizon. They wander closer to the cottage as you check and make sure the flower bushes close to ground zero haven't been completely flooded. Otto rewraps the hose as Oscar tries to squeeze out as much water as he can from his sweater. After securing the coils back on the hook, Otto slumps down in one of your wooden chairs. Sliding the messy locks of his hair out of his face, he gives Oscar the stink eye as his brother flops even more gracelessly down in the matching chair next to him.

Oscar pauses, taking a closer look at what you're wearing, and smacks Otto's elbow with the back of his hand. Otto glares at his sibling before his attention is directed to you. Admiration lightly flushes the large man's cheeks as Oscar grins at his reaction. Your usual wear is adorable, but they would kill to see you in something light and flowy like this again...and judging from the possessive hand Axel has rested at your back after he makes his way to you, he approves as well.

Trying not to focus entirely on the warmth of the eldest brother's hand, you step carefully to the wooden bench sitting adjacent to the chairs. Taking a seat, your feet lift quickly from the chilly shallow lake below as Axel follows close behind you. 

Sitting beside you, the man pulls your knife from his pocket, and begins with a simple, "Explain this."

Your eyes flash stubbornly. Did he really think you were going to make this easy for him? After his earlier stunt? Right.

As innocently as you can, you reply, "Axel that's a paring knife. You cook, you should really know this."

Oscar chokes his laugh down as Otto clears his throat. Unbeknownst to the two of you, the younger brothers had actually been locked in water combat for only a short time; earlier on Otto had gotten distracted by you and Axel, and Oscar had noticed where his tallest brother's attention had been directed. You both have had a captive audience pretty much the entire time.

At least until Axel had made his way over to the screen door with you tossed over his shoulder. Oscar had immediately grabbed the hose and did what he had to do to hide any sign of their guilty observation and eavesdropping. Otto hadn't been amused, but he begrudgingly understood that they may have needed some sort of alibi.

Axel's nostrils flare, his eyes narrowing as he thumbs along the blade.

He drawls, "What do you do with it."

Keeping a straight face is becoming a bit difficult. He is making this too much fun for you.

With slight confusion you reply, "...It's...it's in the name."

The silence from Axel nearly breaks Oscar. Otto has his poker face on and appears unaffected by your antics, but the mirth in his eyes tells a different story.

As for Axel? He betrays almost nothing, maybe a mild frustration at best. But his brothers would bet money that their older sibling is resisting some rather...lustful urges right now. Your teasing bothers the eldest in the worst way...or maybe the best.

Your eyes fall to the knife in Axel's hand. Might as well get this show on the road.

"...But yes, I do use it differently. I use it as an aid for my ability. When I want to change into my Phase, that knife provides me with a method that gives me the most control. If I vary the depth of the cut, I can adjust the time I spend in my Phase."

Oscar glances at the little unassuming tool before asking, "Change for what?"

You shift on the bench, getting a little more comfortable.

"Well. When I first started living here, my forest and lake were in pretty poor condition. Garbage and filth had been left sitting for years, which meant the soil was being smothered by water that couldn't drain the way it needed to. Because of the waterlogging, many of the trees developed root rot."

Cocking your head to the side, you recall the information provided by your environment books. You had spent countless hours reading and notetaking, determined to restore your childhood home.

"Root rot isn't the most dangerous thing, but it can be tricky to identify in its early stages. A little less than half of the pines were infected, a good amount too far gone. Their root systems had basically been turned to mush."

You worried for a moment you were boring the three who may have been expecting something more thrilling, but they appeared to be listening quite intently. They had mentioned hunting and fishing in their lives, so you'd have to remember these three weren't just assassins, they were woodsmen. Maybe this was right up their alley?

"So! The biggest problem I had at the end of the day, was identifying pines in early stages of rot. Not to mention a lack of tools to do so. But I knew that my ability affected my senses, and thought maybe I could use that."

Otto murmurs, "Better senses?"

You pause, "...Yes and no. Um...take my eyesight for example, my night vision. My eyes are better at night but are more sensitive to light, kind of like..an owl's. So in that aspect, it's situational. Better at night, weaker in the day. If there is anything I can call 'better' outright, it'd be my hearing and balance. But not by much."

Fidgeting with the hem of your dress, you fight back bashfulness at talking about a part of your ability that is particularly...bestial.

"When I was in my forest in my Phase, I..was using smell. Normally you smell root rot from the soil, it'll be bad...swampy. But with time and practice, I could smell the rot itself. I can't really describe it other than it's very...heavy."

Decay in particular stood out to you; a combination of sharp and dark, old and new and lost. You count yourself very lucky that you had no urges to consume those types of things, given the peculiar animalness of your ability.

"So, that's what I use my knife for."

You lean against the side of the bench, folding your arms over your belly as you think. There was something else...

"Oh right! You wanted to know um...why I didn't attack you three the first time? To put it simply, instinct plays a part in what I choose to perceive as a threat when I'm in my Phase. It's...decently reliable."

Otto shifts, grimacing at the wet feel of his long johns sticking to his skin, before asking, "To you, not a threat?"

A soft sigh leaves your lips, "I haven't really been in many dangerous situations in my life. But uh...when you three caught me...there was no sinking, overpowering, awful sensation. It was quiet. I was really nervous, definitely, but it felt like...I could wait? So I did."

You smile a little, "Besides, my healing gives me a little more wiggle room in terms of patience."

Oscar shuffling in his seat draws your attention; he does not appear to be happily enduring the texture of his soaked turtleneck, and his frustration is mounting. Refusing to be trapped and uncomfortable any longer, he slips his suspenders off his shoulders and drags the article of clothing up and off his body.

With flushed cheeks, you watch him drop the sweater onto the arm of his chair and relax half-naked in his seat. You try to distract yourself from the handsome man, to rip your eyes away before you're caught.

You succeed, much to your relief. Only that relief is temporary as your eyes land on Otto, whose clinging long johns have been rendered nearly see-through and what were you talking about again?

When Oscar returns his attention to you to see you tense and cheeks practically glowing with your gaze riveted to your knees, he smirks. Oh sweetheart, you can look if you want, they won't bite.

Well. Not too hard at least.

Besides, they've all been looking at you for quite some time. Not to mention having some not very polite daydreams involving you. Do you think of them too? Of their hands and mouths on you, fingers and tongues inside of you, bodies pressed tight against yours?

Curiously, he looks to Axel, whose interest is still on the knife...except its not, not at all. He's watching you, eyes half-lidded with a wicked spark glimmering in their depths. He'd seen your reactions, and if Oscar had to guess, was having some more indecent thoughts of you right now.

You're trying to convince yourself that the burning gazes you feel are simply the brothers thinking of questions...but if that's all it is, why do you feel so naked?

You squirm; it's probably just in your head, but you can't bring yourself to look up and meet their eyes just yet. You need something to keep the ball rolling, before this silence stretches on for too long.

Well...there is something that's been on your mind lately...

"...If..If you don't mind me asking you all a question?"

That seems to break the trance they were in, curiosity pushing through.

Axel encourages, "Go on."

You approach the question gingerly, "Alright..so doing the work that you do...I'd imagine one of your stronger instincts would be protecting yourselves and each other. Avoid hesitation...shoot first ask questions later? And...well?.....you all saw some..weird...woman?..animal?!?..looking thing! With glowing eyes, like something out of a nightmare. Why did you let me live?"

The silence and quiet shifting of their bodies that follows your question is enough to draw your eyes up from your knees.

The brothers had their gazes fixed on you, but after they have processed your inquiry, they falter. Oscar and Otto look to Axel, to you, and to each other. You watch them under your lashes the entire time, a little surprised to see them so...unsure. Axel had settled against the back of the seat, thinking. He seemed far away, lost in old memory. 

Otto keeps his eyes trained on his hands where they rest...were his ears a bit red? 

He mutters something and his brothers look to him in mild surprise.

He clears his throat and tries again, carefully, "Not..night hag...dream? You are...story?"

Scowling with frustration, Otto sighs, "Jävla engelska."

Oscar elaborates, "From fairytale."

Their admission brings back bittersweet memories.

Content to reminisce, yet a little forlorn, your eyes fall to the water that has submerged the stone floor of your patio.

"You know. When I first discovered what I was..or..what I wasn't?..the very first thing I did was grab any fairytale books I could find. Folklore, myths and legends, anything. We didn't have a very good collection though, and many were basically the same stories, but I had to be sure. In the end, there wasn't anything really like me in them. Of course."

It had been disheartening. You had been so naive; you had thought that maybe you could have found some kind of answer or reason for being the way you were, some kind of history or even family. Myths and tales had to come from somewhere, right? Hold some speck of truth.

Wanting to do something about the soft, sad expression on your face, Oscar lightheartedly teases, "Werewolf?"

It works.

Biting your lip, a grin slips through with a giggle, "I considered maybe something like that, but since there was no..changing under a full moon, I crossed it off the list."

You fidget, a little sheepish as you admit, "I still read any new fairytale books I can find in town. I'm not exactly looking for anything anymore, but...well, habit is habit I suppose."

Every once in a while you'd pull a book from the small collection locked away in your bedroom to read as you were winding down for the night. That or to pass the time as your condition played Keep Away with your sleep.

Axel finally drifts out of the past to join in, "We were told stories in childhood. Women with tails, or hooves. Forest spirits."

Otto hums, "Skogsrå or Huldran."

Oscar grins, "Forest maiden."

When all three had laid eyes on you, they had to fight back the initial knee-jerk reaction that they had encountered a real mythical creature. After the three had retired to their guest room to regroup, a dazed Otto just sat on the bed and stared into nothing while Oscar had jokingly asked if they could keep you. 

Half-jokingly.

Their curiosity about you had been...exceptional, but they still had manners they needed to mind. Drowning you in personal questions for hours and hours on end was too boorish, their mother had taught them better. They wouldn't subject their polite little hostess to such disrespect.

With a smile you say, "No tails or hooves here, just feathers and scales. And claws."

A ripple breaking the calm surface of water surrounding the bench has you peering up to an overcast sky. Maybe it would have been better to stay inside after all, but a light drizzle never hurt anyone. You can count yourself lucky that cold water doesn't bother your condition all that much...unless it's a cold season downpour.

The brothers look to your hands, recalling the new information you had revealed to Otto about your victim. 

Axel leans in, "Tell us about claws."

You hesitate, considering your response, "Well...they're...basically made of keratin. I think. Like fingernails but stronger. They're not that long, so they can't really be called talons, but they help me grip and climb."

Otto questions, "Not fight?"

Flexing your fingers against the material of your dress, you speculate, "That's...I mean, if I took a swipe at someone I would probably leave a bit of a cut. Although if I went for the eyes that'd be a different story..."

Confusion crosses the brothers' faces. How exactly did you kill the man, then? Was it the adrenaline?

Axel asks what's on their minds, "Can't kill?"

You figured after everything you said to Otto that this would be coming.

"...I know what you're getting at. You want to know how I did..what I did."

You lock eyes with the eldest, bold as you simply state, "I won't be answering questions about that today."

Determination sets the oldest Swede's jaw, "You made a promise to tell everything. Was this a lie?"

Unsettled, you speak before you can think, "Everything about my First Phase, yes! I haven't lied!"

You clap your hands over your traitorous mouth.

Axel blinks, and then slowly, surely, his expression slides into something sly and victorious; you've revealed something quite interesting. Only for a moment do you bear witness to the brothers' growing intrigue before you cover your eyes, head bowing to hide your face in your hands in pure frustration.

Oscar's voice drifts into your ears, "First Phase? More than one?"

You groan, "See, this is my problem. I like you three too much and it makes me slip up in such stupid ways. Fudge muffins."

The three assassins perk up at the additional reveal of your fondness for them, carefully storing that particular little nugget of information away to be closely inspected at a later time. For now, their focus is elsewhere.

Before they can push for a little more clarification from you, a flash of lightning interrupts the conversation. Worried, you turn to the men with a frown.

"We should move this inside, Pumpkin really doesn't like thunderstorms. Not to mention the kittens will probably be scared too."

Oscar is the first to react to the information; leaning far to the side in his chair to peer at the screen door, he can make out a little ball of orange fluff curled tight against the door in misery. You stand, the brothers quick to follow in your lead.

As you head towards the door peering this way and that at your arms and legs, you mention, "Don't forget to check for spiders before heading in. It's been a while."

Otto grunts and the trio do a quick once-over as you pause by the hose to rinse your feet, watching Axel out of the corner of your eye.

Hm. He really didn't check all that carefully...you eye the hose, weighing the risk. Really though, don't you deserve a little revenge?

Yes, yes you do.

Instrument of justice in hand, you take aim and blast him with what water was left in the hose before you have the chance to talk some sense into yourself.

Surprisingly, all the man does is tense up, still like a statue. There's no grunt or bark of surprise, though maybe you heard a sharp intake of breath from him?

Hair disheveled and wide-eyed as water drips from his skin and clothes, he stares at you. His younger brothers mirror his disbelieving expression and you can't help but take pride in the thought that you've successfully surprised all three of them.

You offer him a simple explanation for the impromptu shower, backing slowly away from the hose towards the door to the cottage all the while.

"...You missed a spot."

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Jävla engelska-   Fucking English

[angst-fairygodmother]

On His Knees (Charles Vane x fem!Reader)

Your new captaincy comes with self-doubt, and Charles Vane proves to you just how well you can take command.

A/N: Oops, I tripped and this got waaaay kinky. Like, definitely rivals and probably beats my Kinktober stuff. But let’s be real, Charles Vane deserves the good shit.

Word Count: 2617

Rating: E(xplicit), very

Content Warnings: dirty talk, praise kink, begging, oral (fem receiving), hair pulling, biting/marking, beard burn, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, reference to bondage

Cross-posted to AO3

Taglist: @vice-versa-vane

The door closed heavily, and though you didn’t move to face him yet, you knew it was Charles entering your cabin. No one else would be so boldly presumptuous. The bolt clicked home, ensuring it would remain just the two of you.

“It’s Captain now, then?” he asked, though he already knew the answer. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think his gravelly tone was impressed.

Turning slowly, you leaned against the edge of your desk and folded your arms over your chest. The motion drew his eyes down before they flicked back to your face.

“Temporarily at least,” you acknowledged.

He scowled. “Mutiny’s rumbling?”

Your laugh was sharp, short, and bitter. “No. But I’m a woman in a man’s role. More than half of them think it, not to mention certain powers in Nassau. It’s only a matter of time before one of them decides to put me in my place, that I don’t have the…” you waved a hand vaguely, at a loss for the word you wanted.

“The balls?” A faint smirk of amusement followed the offering.

You rolled your eyes. “Physically or metaphorically. But I wasn’t going to put it that bluntly. Being in charge requires a...dominating personality. Doesn’t it?”

He had a way of putting you at ease, of making you want to drop the wall of spikes you constantly surrounded yourself with and admit your doubts, want to be vulnerable. Perhaps it came from the fact that he was one of the few in Nassau to treat you with respect as an equal, despite your gender, accepted your ability to hold your own. Or the way those ice chip eyes seemed to see right through you, leaving you bare and without secrets.

He stepped closer, invading your space and towering over you. There was a question in his look and your body answered it without prompting, leaning into him like a magnetic pull. One of his large, calloused hands cupped the side of your head gently. 

“A spirit you have,” he rumbled, still smirking, breath tickling your face, “if I recall.”

You flushed hotly, remembering the last time you and he had the opportunity to be this close, the way he had writhed and pleaded beneath your fingers, bound to your will and your headboard. 

“That’s not the same,” you snapped, averting your gaze, “at all.”

He laughed, and you felt warmth pooling in your stomach, knowing that you were one of the only people to ever hear him do that.

“You are one of the fiercest fucking pirates to sail these waters,” he said firmly, drawing your eyes back to meet his. “And any man stupid enough to cross you deserves whatever shallow grave he gets.”

“Charles...don’t do that. Don’t pick fights for me, or suggest fights for me.”

“I wasn’t. I don’t need to.”

His lips finally found yours, before you could say anything else, pressing harder and deeper with every second that passed. Your arms unfolded, clutching at his shoulders as he leaned you back, the sharp edge of the wood digging into your backside. 

“Charles,” you whined softly as he broke from the kiss to roam across your skin, stubble scratching as he mouthed at your jaw and the sensitive pulsepoint of your neck. “Please.”

You hated how needy you sounded, hated that any man, even him, could make you beg. But you wanted him, badly, and knew that it was only a matter of time before something would demand the attention of one or both of you on deck once more.

He hummed, all too pleased with himself, and hushed you, hot breath sending shivers down your spine before he sucked the spot between his teeth. Your knees buckled as the action brought blood rushing to the surface, just beneath the thin layer of skin, and pleasure shot through you. He was quick to catch you, hands dropping to your hips to hold you up as he journeyed lower across your body. Teeth skimmed deliciously across your collarbone where it peaked from beneath your shirt.

Then suddenly the contact was gone and the cotton material was being yanked over your head.

“Fuck, you are beautiful,” he growled, palming one of your now-exposed breasts and fixing his lips harshly to your other nipple.

You arched against him, every touch making you crave more. 

“Yes,” you moaned breathlessly as he rolled his tongue around the erect peak, laving and sucking at it. “Oh, yes, please…”

“Tell me what you want,” he murmured against your chest. “I’m yours to command, Captain.” 

Something in the way he said your new title, the promise of whatever you wanted that he could give, sent another wave of pleasure through you, dampening your undergarments and making you shudder. You could feel his smirk, and you hated it. He was giving you control for the moment, but he knew that really you belonged to him. 

“Anything. Everything. You,” you panted hazily, unsure what you were even asking for. “You make me feel so good, Charles, please.”

Your words drew a groan from his throat and now it was your turn to smirk. Slowly he continued his journey down your body, every inch of your skin mapped by tongue and teeth, alternating kisses and bites which made you hiss and stoked the flames of your desire. Your fingers tangled into his long locks, tugging at them as he drew nearer and nearer the waist of your trousers. The noises he made which mingled with your moans and whines were nothing short of sinful.

He stilled as he reached your hips, rocking back on his heels and looking up at you with hooded eyes.

“Well that’s a sight I never thought I’d see,” you purred. “Charles Vane on his knees. But what a pretty picture it paints.”

His Adam's apple bobbed noticeably as he swallowed, your words tightening the tent of his trousers. 

“Oh you like that? When I tell you how good you look, how good you make me feel?” you grinned teasingly at him, tongue poking out between your teeth. “Shall I say it again? My pretty pirate.”

The possessive made him whine your name, the unexpected sound needy and desperate, sending a spark of shock and delight through you.

“Tell me what you want from me,” he begged, head still tilted back by your hand in his hair. 

You withdrew your hand, far from gentle, enjoying the way his breath hitched with the tug. 

“Strip for me, Charles,” it was a question, more than order, but still he jumped to do as he was told.

You watched him hungrily as his shirt was tossed aside, revealing the hard, solid planes and rippling muscles that made him one of the most fearsome sights on the ocean. And yet here he was, scrambling to undo the button of his pants, leaping to follow your every instruction. It was a special kind of power and made your head spin drunkenly. Not wanting to waste any time, you shimmied off the rest of your own clothes and boosted yourself up, sitting on your desk, legs spread invitingly.

“I want your mouth, Charles,” you purred. 

It seemed no more than a blink before he was knelt between your knees. But Charles was still Charles, and for all he was under your sway, he still maintained some combative nature. He kissed and nipped at the inside of your thighs, beard rubbing deliciously against the tender flesh and sure to leave reddened marks, mouth everywhere but where you needed it most. 

“Stop teasing me,” you demanded, yanking harder on his hair, guiding his face to where it belonged.

“Yes, Captain.” He smirked at the way you shuddered, hot breath a rush of sensation against your damp core and the title another heady rush of power.

His hands circled your thighs, reverent in their touch as he pushed them further apart so he could dive in. At first it was a gentle, teasing brush of his tongue through your folds, circling your clit delicately, just enough pressure to make you need more. His grip slid higher, holding your hips and restricting your ability to buck up into his mouth like you wanted to do. You could feel the coil of pleasure gathering in your stomach, just waiting for the final push over the edge.

Without warning, his lips wrapped around your sensitive nub, sucking it and pressing with his tongue. The opposing push and pull sent shockwaves through you and you couldn’t help the scream that escaped your parted lips as your orgasm erupted through you. Wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you as Vane licked and sucked you through it, never truly letting you come down from the high before working you back toward the edge. 

Your fingers dug in, nails scraping his scalp as you clung to him, your only anchor as you gasped for air and your muscles clenched and released in spasms. 

“Fuck, Charles, yes. You make me feel so good,” you panted, keening as he continued to tease at you. “Just like that...fuck...yes…”

Hiking one of your legs over his shoulder to adjust your angle, he dove his tongue into you. His tongue thrust and curled within you, the sensation threatening to drive you mad as your every nerve ending hummed with pleasure and need.

“Oh fuck!” you cried out, grinding down against his mouth. 

He hummed with his own pleasure at the way you writhed beneath him, the vibrations only adding to your desperation.

“Charles, if you keep doing that, I’m not going to last much longer,” you gasped and begged. “I need more, I need you. Fuck me, make me feel good like only you can. Please, Charles.”

His mouth withdrew and he let your leg fall as he got to his feet. His pupils were blown wide and his face was shiny with your slick and you were almost certain you had never seen a more perfect, pretty sight, and told him so, watching with devilish glee as his cock, already weeping pre-cum, twitched with the words.

He gave you only seconds to catch your breath before he kissed you harshly, tongue exploring your mouth greedily. You moaned at the taste of yourself on his lips. 

“That was incredible, Charles,” you breathed, “You’re incredible. Fucking perfect really.”

“Don’t,” he growled. “Keep running that pretty mouth of yours and I won’t last long enough to stuff your cunt like I know you want me to.”

You whimpered, walls fluttering at the promise.

“Keep talking to me like that and I’ll be finished before you can,” you countered, trying to get the challenge back into your voice.

“We both know you’re tougher than that,” he smirked. “Now, Captain. Turn around and bend over the goddamn desk.”

You bit your lip, resisting just for show.

“Now!” his barked command fanned flames even higher.

Slowly, making sure that he was watching your every move, you rolled your hips, spinning so that your back was to him and lowered yourself to your elbows, top half stretched across the cool, solid wood. You couldn’t resist giving your ass a teasing shimmy as you cast a glance over your shoulder at him. He was staring, face slack with aw and eyes burning with desire.

“Well, Charles,” you drawled. “Are you going to keep a lady waiting, or are you going to give me what I want?”

This seemed to snap him out of his trance as he stepped closer. You felt his thighs against yours, his hard cock rubbing against your ass. One of his hands tangled in your hair, pulling you into an arch that bordered just the right side of pain. The other gripped the base of his penis and lined it up with your entrance. Slowly, both of you groaning in ecstasy, he sank into your waiting hole, bottoming out, filling and stretching you deliciously.

“Fuck, Charles, you feel so good,” you whined, rocking your hips back against his pelvis as if there was any deeper he could go. 

Taking that as sign you were adjusted, he pulled nearly all of the way out before driving back into you with a sharp snap. Your body responded instantly, and the two of you set a punishing pace, his cock pistoning in and out of you with enough force to bounce you across the wood, every rock of his hips striking true on the spot within you that made you see stars. Your hands reached past your head, clawing at the opposite edge of the desk for purchase.

You could hardly breathe for the pleasure coursing through you, your moans and pleading a garble of unintelligible noises in harmony with his baritone grunts and groans. Releasing your hair, he took hold of your chin instead, his grip tight, just barely escaping bruising. He leaned closer over you, pinning you beneath his weight and kissing you hungrily. Your tongues battled for dominance, you at the distinct disadvantage, as you fucked, each desperately racing to bring the other to pleasure first.

“Fuck Charles...so good...I’m so close…” you whimpered against his lips. “Make me cum, please Charles. Please...feels so good.”

Your words seemed to stir him further and his thrusts became sloppy, faltering and stuttering in their rhythm. 

Your name fell from his lips in a groan as he thrust once, twice more and his orgasm exploded, hot spurts of cum painting your insides. The sensation stole one last orgasm from you as he rode out his own high with shallow movements and you screamed for him. 

The two of you laid there in silence, stretched across your desk, your body pressed beneath him and his softening cock inside you, for several minutes, head spinning and lungs burning for air as you recovered.

“Fuck, Charles,” you muttered. “Nobody can make me feel half as good as you do.”

“Good,” he growled. “I don’t want them even trying.”

“Didn’t take you for the jealous type,” you teased, shoving lightly to roll him off you and moving about the cabin to find something to clean yourselves off with.

“Why else would I have left that pretty mark on your neck, too high to hide,” he countered with a smirk. “I want everyone to know you’re mine.”

“I don’t know, Charles. You were such a good boy and did as you were told. I’d wager it’s you that belongs to me.”

“Looks like we’ll have to battle it out and see who comes out on top.”

You raised your eyebrows at his obvious innuendo. “And when do you propose to do that?”

“How about now,” he offered. “Jack and Mr. Maines can handle any disasters on deck while we have it out.”

“I’d much rather have it in,” you reclined on the narrow mattress in one corner, body open in an invite. Your limbs felt like jelly and you wanted nothing more really than to sleep, but he had made you feel so incredible, so blissed out, and you wanted more.

Sauntering over, his eyes travelled your prone form on the bed. Then he nudged you with one hand, effortlessly shifting your body against the wall. 

“A nap first,” he said as he flopped down beside you.

You tried to think of something clever to say, squeaking in surprise as he reached out to draw you against him once he’d settled. Instead of maintaining the banter, you relented to his suggestion, relaxing and snuggling down, laying your head on his chest. 

“Congratulations on the captaincy, if I haven’t said it already,” he stifled a yawn to speak. “I look forward to watching you give them hell.”

[starman-john-tracy]

for @asteria-star for her birthdayyyyyyyyyyy <3 <3 <3

“Piss off Scott.” And he would, he really would under the force of that glare, only Star’s teeth are gritted hard enough that it looks like she might crack something, and she’s bent double with her fingers pressed hard against the gross, squelchy patch of red that’s spreading alarmingly quickly over the side of her t-shirt.

So instead of pissing off Scott approaches - looking like he’s trying to keep a snake from biting him; palms up and outward in a show of being unarmed, defenseless.

It doesn't work on her. She could throw Scott Tracy further than she trusts him.

“Keep away from me.” Star warns, low and dangerous, her expression cold. "I’m dealing with it, Tracy, it's none of your concern.” The last thing any of them expected from their trip to NYC was for Star to come back from a groceries errand with what looks like a horrible stab wound instead of the tea, Crocky Crunch cereal and fresh fruit she'd gone for.

She’s pretty sure that she hasn't been followed back here, though. She’d been careful - done several loops around the block, trying to blend into the shadows, to be certain that nothing could be traced back to the Tracy's - because while turning up at the hotel bruised, battered and bleeding wasn't exactly ideal, Star hadn’t really had much of a choice in the matter. She has nowhere else to go, after all. She’d hoped to sneak past both of the Tracy's rooms to her own without alerting them to the situation, but Scott, having chosen exactly the wrong moment to head for the bar downstairs, had scuppered that.

Stupid Scott, she thinks, scowling even as blood continues to seep steadily into the fibres of her shirt. Stupid Scott and his terrible timing.

John's been giving lectures here in NYC and Scott had kindly offered to be their pilot - as, outside of an emergency, neither spacefarer can be cleared to be in control of any vehicle, let alone a plane like the Tracy Two, for 48 hours after touchdown.

“But-” Scott opens his mouth to start to protest, but Star is already strategically shuffling away from him, toward the safety of her hotel room - paid for with Tracy money, she notes, as a sign of trust that she'll keep herself out of trouble or else the GDF will want her back in a cell. 

The only problem with that is that trouble tends to find her.

With blood-slippery fingers, Star swipes the room card shakily through the scanner on her door and shoves her way through it, kicking it shut behind her before Scott can catch up and get his foot in. There’s a hammering of fists on wood on the other side but Star resolutely ignores it, stumbling instead into the small, adjoining bathroom only for her knees to give out and she’s pitched, face first, onto the floor.

Star opens her eyes, hazy and unamused, to find her cheek pressed against cold tile, her fingers curled and bloodied in front of her face. Star bites back a groan, slapping both palms down and heaving herself to more of a sitting position; slouched and awful, before curling around the ragged, awful slash across her waist.

Oh fuck does it hurt.

She’s just peeling up the bloodied mess of her t-shirt when, of course, there’s a soft, quiet rap of knuckles against the bathroom door, and Star almost rolls her eyes because she knows exactly who Scott’s sicced on her.

“You can come in, John.” There’s an edge of what almost might be misery to her tone. This is what she gets for the GDF insisting that if she’s going to be on Earth, their hotel rooms have to be conjoined by the bathroom. So John can keep an eye on her, or the other way round, Star’s not sure at this point.

“What happened?” Tall, ginger and worried asks, ever so gently, already crouching at her side, and Star’s torn between the temptation to burst into tears, or to hit him for making her feel that way. There’s a chunky, green first aid kit in his hand (definitely IR standard, not the hotel’s), so he must have been warned. She watches him languidly, as he sets it down and clicks it open.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” She insists, fully aware that it’s not going to be long before she does anyway. John just hums, non-committal and light, pulling a pair of blue plastic gloves on over his fingers with a snap, snap.

“Star.” John’s watching her, quiet and earnest. 

She does her best to crack a weak smile in his direction, but it must fall flat because he looks nothing but soft and serious in return. There’s a creeping fire spreading from her side and wrapping around her ribs, pooling in her lungs and she’s torn between reaching for him, clinging tight and crying and the way her skin itches with the ingrained need to run away.

She stays where she is, frozen and trembling on the cold tiles of a bathroom that's not her own. It’s probably lucky that tile is one of the easier things to clean blood up from.

She would know.

“Hey.” John’s crouching to match her hazy eyeline, fingers hovering close, but not touching. “Think it’d be ok for me to have a look?” He treats her as far more startled bunny in headlights than snake coiled to strike and Star wants to cry; ‘don't you know what I’m capable of! Don’t you know that I could hurt you! Put you and all of your precious brothers in danger just by being near you!’ But she doesn’t, because John’s smart. John already knows all that and he’s here for her anyway.

Her face is an uncomfortably ashy grey and John would rather deal with the horrific amount of blood smeared on her side and fingers and floor before they need to look into transfusion options.

She just nods, stiff and uncomfortable and in pain. Her teeth ache.

“Take your shirt off,” he instructs. If it was anyone else, she’d have made some kind of joke about them having to buy her a drink first, but this is John and he’s about as into that sort of thing as one of the plant’s he’s cultivating up in space would be, so she just sighs and lets him help her peel the sticky, clinging fabric from the wound and up over her head.

Her waist is a weeping wash of red and John pulls a face to show that he’s less than impressed. The long knife wound is clean across and doesn’t look too deep, but it’s raw and juicy with new blood and the skin around it already has a dark wash of purple bruising. John goes a little bit grey-pale at the sight of it - a fresh reminder that they’ve both been on the planet less than 24 hours.

“You ok?” She brings a wobbly hand up to catch on his elbow, just below where he’s rolled his sweater up to his elbows so that she doesn’t get bloody fingerprints on Grandma Tracy’s rough cableknit.

“I’m not the one with the nasty, jagged slice across my stomach.” John points out, dryly, and it’s not like she can deny that. He slides a steadying hand around her back and Star has to resist the urge to hold her breath as he inspects the injury.

She just wants to curl up in bed with a blanket over her head and not exist for a few hours. She wants to go home and that’s an odd feeling to clash with the presence of the careful ginger man who’s rapidly become the definition of the word.

“You didn’t get me strawberries then,” John comments, lightly, as he works. The spaceman’s sweet tooth is practically non-existent until it comes to fruit. She knows his weakness. “This might sting a bit.” He says, though both of them are well aware it’s an understatement.

“Next t-time.” There’s a bit of a wheeze as John swipes a sterile wipe over her stomach, busy cleaning up the wound. She’s got one hand clamped tightly onto his shoulder now, white-knuckled, not quite sure how it had ended up there when she’d been so careful about not getting his sweater bloodied. She hopes he’s not going to have bruises on that pale skin of his in the morning.

She closes her eyes and tips her head back, trying to get better control over her shaky breathing. 

“I’m going to start closing this.” He advises, carefully judging her grimace as he presses the wound closed with his fingers, squelchy and horrible, but ready for him to begin applying steri strips from the first aid kit. It’s a tricky job with her curled over like she is, and when every breath she takes pulls at the skin, so John places a firm but careful hand on her shoulder and pushes her back flat against the tile wall so that he can see what he’s doing.

To his credit, he is, at least, quick about it.

"If I suggest that you should probably get this checked by a hospital,” John adds, gently probing at his fix-up-job of the angry, swollen wound, before he puts a triage bandage over it. “are you gonna try to run for it?"

He'd rather have a second opinion on if this needs more than steri strips to hold it closed, and though he could holo-call Virgil, he'd rather not risk her wrath. She doesn’t dignify the idea with an answer though, instead, angling her cheek away from him and breathing hard through her nose to try and get a handle on the pain.

"I'll compromise," He says, with the tone of a man who knows he'll get what he wants either way, "take some morphine and a full spectrum antibiotic and… uh-ha-ha," he holds up a hand to keep her from interrupting him with protests, "There could have been anything on that, uh… knife?” It looks like a knife wound. “Take both of these and I'll not drag you to A&E by your floppy bangs."

Like he could. Star would almost be amused by the attempted bribery if not for the agony her side is in. Each breath tastes like fire now, and the round circles John presses into her palm are a couple of miniature blessings.

"And I don't have to explain myself to Scott." She's not going to anyway, but it feels like an important thing to add to the bargain before she knocks the drugs back.

"No ones gonna make you talk to Scott." John reaffirms, "but you know he's just worried. He's a big brother, it's what he does best. I imagine he'll have called Virgil to freak out about it though.”

Great. Another worrywart with questions. Just what she needs.

Virgil isn’t so bad though, there’s something calming about the family’s gentle giant, and she’s watched him patch John up more than enough times to trust he knows what he’s doing. Unlike Scott, Virgil’s knows when not to stick his nose into something.

“John…” There’s something else worrying her, nagging at her, something far worse than a stab wound because it could cost her her place aboard Thunderbird Five. “You’re not going to... report this to the GDF, uh, are you?” She’s not supposed to go off on her own, for one, and scrapping with some old familiar faces isn’t going to earn her any gold stars on the behave and we’ll let you stay with John chart.

It was a weird mix of punishment and witness protection and a favor from John’s Aunt Val that put her up there in the first place, and while at first, she’d have done almost anything to be anywhere but, Thunderbird Five… well, John’s grown on her.

“I think the bigger problem will be convincing Scott that it’s none of his business.” John points out lightly, “Dare I ask what happened?” Her face is losing color by the second. It seems important to keep her talking. Can’t be unconscious if you’re talking.

“People don’t like to go down without a fight.’ Star offers him the widest grin she can manage, revealing that one of her front teeth is a little chipped. “Gangs with long-standing grudges especially.”

John shakes his head, slow and disparaging.

“Right. Of course. Think you can stand?” When she nods slowly in confirmation, John gently leavers her upright, waiting patiently the few seconds it takes for her to blink the phosphenes from her vision as the blood drains away from her head. Both her hands find his shoulders again, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

“It’s lucky it wasn’t too deep.” John sighs, probably more to himself than anyone. She tilts her head back down to find him looking at the covered patch on her side. “Those bruises do look bad though, it really would be better if someone could check you for internal injury.” He glances at her face from beneath a sweep of golden-ginger lashes, waiting for an answer. When she doesn’t offer him one, he sighs. “I could call Virgil and make him run a scan and-”

“Tomorrow, John.” Her head falls, heavy, onto his shoulder with a bit of a thunk. “I just wanna go to bed.” The last bit comes out as not much more than a whisper.

“Right then, come on.” John slides a supportive arm around her back, careful not to let his fingers brush skin. “Bed it is.”

Star swivels around so she can wrap her arms around his waist and press her face into his shoulder, trying to get as close to the warmth as possible. With John here, she doesn't really want to go back to where she's sleeping. Alone everything seems so… dangerous. The hotel filters in the sounds of the streets, people she doesn’t know in the corridors, threats from every angle. It creeps her out a little, and so she clings to John a little tighter. She starts mumbling again, trying to tell him she'll happily sleep on the floor if it means she doesn't have to be alone.

“Star…? Star.” He sighs, supporting more of her slight weight, shaking his head fondly. “Fine, ok, I’ll stay with you. You’re as bad as Alan, wanting to sleep on the floor. What am I going to do with you?” He laughs, and she feels it verberate through his chest. “Come on, you’re not alone.”

He pulls at her shoulder, half spinning her in an almost dance-like move as he lets her knees crumple and Star finds herself sitting on the plush hotel bed. Very gently, John tugs up the comforter and drapes it over her shoulders, like a blanket-cape.

He vanishes, briefly, to go find her a new, clean t-shirt and a pair of sleep sweats and looks entirely unsurprised when he comes back with one of his own, faded t-shirts in hand, pilfered by her long ago.

"I did wonder where this had gone." He points out, softly amused, as he helps manoeuvre it over her head. "You could at least leave me an IOU so I know what you've… borrowed." It's a kinder word than stolen but John's well aware of the chances of him getting things back once they've made their way into Star’s wardrobe.

Just as well his Father was a billionaire, really. John hardly minds a few things going missing here and there when they're going to a girl who has so very little in the way of her own possessions and no money to her name. He's caught her liberating his bank cards more than once, and it had only prompted a conversation about asking first before he sighs and hands the plastic over.

Privately, John thinks that had she not have wanted to be caught, she wouldn't have been. 

“Sleep.” He advises softly, well away of just how heavy her lids look as he helps her onto her back and makes sure the covers are tucked securely around her. “I’ll be right here, ok?” John waves a book at her, though she has no memory of him picking it up, and the last thing she sees before sleep takes her, is him smiling softly, reaching out to move a lock of stray hair from off her cheek. 

[houseofslash]

Hope your smut was so good! Would you write AFAB reader being railed by Thomas Hewitt??? I'd love to read that in your style 💦💦

sure thing, anon! forgive me if this is ooc, i haven’t seen any TCM films yet

🔞 afab reader with thomas hewitt 🔞

The heat made everything easier. Laundry dried faster, meat cured quicker. The Texan sun was good at that, helping get the essentials taken care of, while slowing your thoughts until they were slow as old molasses so that you didn’t have to think too hard about much of anything. 

Today was a real hot one, but luckily it was a sleepy Sunday afternoon and nobody was really moving that much. You were sprawled in just a T-shirt and underwear on the bed, Thomas dozing  next to you, mask-free for once. As you turned onto your side, tucking yourself against his chest, he made a low noise in his throat and lifted his arm to pull you closer.

You blinked as the new perspective of the far wall made you realize you’d forgotten a window that you could open. As much as you hated to disturb him, he was so rarely this relaxed, you still couldn’t resist the possibility of a breeze. “Hang on one sec, baby,” you murmured, pressing a kiss to his forehead before pulling away. He grumbled about it but let you go.

Moving around the room over to crank the window open, you smiled as your venture proved worth it. A relatively cool breeze wandered amiably into the room, making both you and Thomas sigh happily. Just like that, the room was that much better to lay around in. You smiled as you stretched, your body now only pleasantly warm. That warmth deepened as you turned back to the bed and watched Thomas push his heavy frame upright, that easy strength impressive even on idle display as he moved. 

You licked your lips as heat coiled like a satisfied cat in your core. Noticing your stare, Thomas’s dark brows pulled together slightly in confusion. Christ, it was incredible he still didn’t quite realize how attractive you found him. Returning to the bed, you walked slowly, with a swaying saunter to your hips that you knew he liked. He watched you watch him, a faint smile pulling at his mouth. Instead of getting back onto your side of the bed, you opted instead to sling one leg over his, settling in his lap. He watched you with gentle amusement now, his hands coming up automatically to your hips to steady you. 

You leaned up to kiss him, sighing into his mouth as you wound his arms around his neck. He grunted, returning the kiss easily, as eager for your touch as ever. Within a minute, his hands were roaming, which made you proud; it’d taken forever for him to get comfortable doing so without asking permission. You loved it when he took the initiative. As he groped at your ass, rubbing almost shyly at your cunt through your panties. He made another low noise and you nearly grinned as you realized he could feel how wet you were already. “Can you feel how bad I want you, Tommy?” you breathed into his mouth, making him groan. He pulled his hand away, making you pout. 

“Tommy…” you sighed, letting your lower lip push out just a bit. His eyes caught on it, but he glanced around the room, and then down, towards downstairs. His meaning was clear. You kissed him again; you’d long since stopped caring what anyone but Tommy and Luda Made thought of you. “C’mon, Tommy, we can be quiet,” you murmured between kisses, moving over his jaw to his ear, tugging at the lobe lightly with your teeth as you rocked down against him, grinding against his already pronounced bulge. “Want you to fuck me, Tommy,” you whined softly. 

He grunted, shuddering, and then his hands on your hips were holding you down, grinding you harder against his cock. “Yes,” you gasped, “yes, just like that-- Tommy--” Just a little better an angle and then you could dry-hump your clit against him--

There was a flash of movement, and then you were flat on your back, Thomas kneeling upright between your parted legs. Your heart was already racing as he shrugged out of his shirt and pants, still staring at you, eyes dragging over your skin. You shimmied your panties down and off, exposing your wet cunt to him. “C’mere, baby,” you breathed, slipping two fingers inside yourself. 

Thomas made a noise you could only describe as feral, and then he was on top of you again, and you were sinking into the bed under his weight as he lined up his cock with your hole and pushed inside. He knew you liked feeling the stretching burn a bit, liked seeing stars at the corners of your vision as you were for a moment certain certain this time would break you. Your eyes rolled back in your head a little bit as your hands scrabbled for purchase on his shoulder blades. As he seated himself inside you, you couldn’t help it, a high-pitched whine tried to burst from your chest. Heat singed down your spine as he clapped a hand over your mouth, giving you a dark look. You started this, you finish it. 

You clung a little tighter to him, indicating your approval, and then he began to fuck you.

It was somehow that much hotter fucking like this, when all you could hear was Thomas’s panting and the deliciously wet punishing slap of his hips against your ass and cunt. You locked your ankles in the small of his back and let him take you, enjoying the ride. 

After a minute or two of this, Thomas reared back upright, and you opened your eyes blearily, having been halfway to orgasm. He grunted as he pulled you close again, upright into his lap as he leaned back against the headboard. You were glad, immensely glad, that his hand was still over your mouth, silencing you, as the new angle allowed you to slide down onto his cock that much more, splitting you open and making your eyes water. Thomas pulled you close as he began bouncing you on his cock. Your eyes watered and you nearly wept from the overstimulation as your clit began grinding against his pelvic bone with every thrust. All you could do was hold on, panting through your nose as Thomas used and fucked you. The same wet slapping sounds of sex filled the room, but you were pretty sure this angle and his hand over your mouth negated much noise that could filter beyond the room. 

Eager to feel him cum and to orgasm yourself, you began clenching and rocking to meet his thrusts as much as you could. Thomas bit back a growling cry of his own, his hand abandoning your mouth to return to your hip, gripping you tightly enough to bruise as he worked you up and down his cock, panting through gritted teeth. Sensing you were both close, you collapsed against him, shuddering, and muffled yourself against his neck as you felt your orgasm surge. All it took was one particularly rough thrust into your abused cunt to send you nearly sobbing with pleasure as the wave crashed. You clenched, nearly crying out, as his pelvis ground into your clit and then he was gasping too. He pulled out of you, making you moan, and you panted as you looked down, bracing yourself on his shoulders to watch his cock spurt, twitching, all over your mound and belly. Yum.

He took the back of your head in his hand and pulled you closer with that grip, so you were sprawled over his belly. Neither of you cared about the mess as he kissed you idly, his other hand wrapping around you to hold you in place. As Thomas nuzzled his forehead against yours and sighed with contentment, you really couldn’t bring yourself to care whether anyone heard. This was all you needed. 

[sailtoafarawayland]

Delirious (Entwined Series)

Summary: The show hadn't stayed on their radar for very long, eventually drifting to the nether reaches of their watch list, but parts of it lingered in the back of her mind – and from the looks both Killian and Hook sometimes gave her, the way they had started testing her boundaries when they made love, she knew her reaction to what they'd seen wasn't far from their minds either...

Series Information: A series of connected one-shots following the polyamorous relationship of Emma, Killian, and Hook. Each piece can be read standalone and is non-linear, but together will reveal some backstory. Tags/warnings that are specific to each piece will be posted at their heading.

Rated: Explicit

Relationships/Alternate Tags: Emma/Killian/Hook, light dom/sub, light bondage, come sharing, come swallowing    

Many thanks to @hollyethecurious for the lovely cover art!

AO3 - FF

Delirious

Emma's body was not her own, floating somewhere, each touch against her skin was a ripple of cold electricity, the rise and swell of each part of her an instrument being played by someone else – her soft moans the background to the blood roaring through her like a tidal wave. She shifted as much as she could, tugging helplessly at her restraints as she was rocked into the mattress over and over, just enough play in the silky cloth that she could bend and stretch her joints, but not enough that she could escape from her position, her arms and legs drawn toward each corner of the four post bed.

Like something unstoppable, she could feel it building again as Hook rolled his body into her, the pleasure coiling and writhing and snapping deep inside, barreling through her and flying from her mouth on a silent cry, her voice nearly gone altogether as what may have been her fourth – she couldn't keep track anymore – orgasm tore through her.  

It had started innocently enough, as these things often did for them, a lazy night flipping through Netflix in search of the perfect distraction – and then she'd paused just a little too long on one of the shows.

Bonding.

“What's that, love?” Killian had asked, taking her inaction for interest, and perhaps it was.

“Oh, I'm not sure, I just – ” She could tell them anything, she reminded herself “ – it looks interesting, don't you think?”

And though her two pirates had shared a mutual look that crossed her field of view, the darkened living room stayed silent as the three of them watched the scenes play out – the hot pink dungeon room and red X-frame dominating the center, crops and dildos decorating the wall, the client stretched on a table with a riding crop tickling his cheek, fingers knotted in the black restraints holding him down.  

She didn't have to hide the flush in her cheeks from them, or the way she wriggled on the couch trying to sat the wet desire throbbing in her core – but it wasn't the scenes from the show playing out that were making her hot – it was the thought of being tied up and helpless between the both of them, unable to move as they took what they needed and brought her to the edge of oblivion over and over.

The show hadn't stayed on their radar for very long, eventually drifting to the nether reaches of their watch list, but parts of it lingered in the back of her mind – and from the looks both Killian and Hook sometimes gave her, the way they had started testing her boundaries when they made love, she knew her reaction to what they'd seen wasn't far from their minds either...

“Come back to me, Emma,” Hook growled, moving wetly within her, the familiar rumble of his voice against her ear pulling her back to the present, to the stretch of his cock and the cooling stickiness of Killian's release smeared along her thighs, leaking from her with every pump of Hook's body. “Don't you leave me now, darling. Can you give me another?”

Emma whimpered as Hook pulled out of her entirely, slapping his rigid, heated shaft against her sopping folds, giving her a brief glimpse of his length coated with both her own arousal and the seed Killian had left inside of her. She felt delirious at the thought of it, her body nothing more than a object to be used for their pleasure until they were done – every part of her something hot and wet and needing to be filled. Fingers dragged along her breast like knives sparking pleasure, cold shivers rising to meet the throbbing, constant ache between her legs.  

“I think our princess has forgotten why she's here,” Hook intoned darkly, dragging the ridge of his cock through her slick folds once more before slapping it directly against her clit, drawing a yelp of pleasure from her. “Why don't you remind her, mate.”

“Aye, we can't have that, now can we?”

The pull of Killian's nails along her rosy, peaked nipple stopped as he moved closer, the heat of his body replacing the cool sting they'd left behind as he straddled her chest, her breasts pressed firmly beneath his weight.

“Wake up, love,” Killian purred just as Hook slid himself back into her center, her hips bouncing against the mattress as he resumed fucking into her with abandon. “Open that pretty little mouth of yours and clean up this mess you've made.”

Emma's eyes flickered open, her breath a sharp inhale as she took in the sight of Killian's cock flexing in front of her face, half hard and swelling quickly at the mere thought of having it between her lips. His length was painted white with not only her own arousal, but the traces of his release that he'd pounded into her, filling her to the brim and then reveling in how it dripped from her folds and smeared her thighs as he continued to thrust – making certain she felt as used and wanton as she looked, whispering how beautiful her body was covered in his seed.

He looked positively sinful, his length stiff and bobbing in a matter of seconds, coated with the evidence of their debauchery while their other lover was still sinking himself vigorously into her dripping sex. She lunged forward against her restraints, the cloth pulling achingly as she latched her lips around the head of his cock and rolled her lips over him, moaning with relief  when he dropped forward, his hand and forearm thumping into the headboard as he leaned over her and let his length slip slowly into her mouth, her tongue firm and insistent against the ridged underside as she sucked him down.

Her body freed from his weight on her chest, Hook's thrusts began pushing her backwards against the pillows she was resting on once more, Killian angled over her and fucking her mouth leisurely as she fought to keep his girth between her lips, tongue and mouth cleaning their joint essences from him.

“Is this what you wanted, Swan?” Killian moaned above her, his features shadowed and framed by the tousled, dark locks hanging down as he watched her, “to be tied up and used, filled with our seed until it runs down your legs – your tight little throat and mouth cleaning us off when we're finished?”

Emma keened, every ridge and vein of Killian's hardness running across her lips as she did her best to lave every drop from his skin, his words another burning addition the the feelings she could no longer control. Her body slipped further up the bed as Hook pounded viciously into her, his grunts of pleasure wavering as he drew near his own release, her restraints digging into her ankles as her body was forced away from Killian. She stretched as far forward as she possibly could, mouth open and waiting for the swollen head of Killian's cock that was now just out of reach, desperation rolling from her tongue on a cry until she was suddenly filled, Hook grabbing her hips and yanking her back down the bed – his fingers digging pleasantly into her flesh as he pistoned into her, her legs forced wider as he buried himself as deeply as possible.

Killian's cock was lying thick and heavy against her tongue once more as Hook finally came, his shaft swelling within her tight channel and filling her with warmth, pulsing ropes of his cum bathing her walls and running out of her as he pulled free with a groan.

“So bloody beautiful, darling,” he breathed. “Killian, get down here and look at our Swan.”

Emma whimpered as the comforting stretch of Killian's cock withdrew from her mouth, leaving her entirely empty as she watched him move around the bed to join Hook, his lips turning up in a wicked smirk as Hook spread her thighs open, further revealing her drenched slit, his release sliding from within her and running down the seam of her cheeks – her thighs and pink folds defiled with every bit of come and arousal that had been dragged out of her.

“Bloody hell, Emma,” Killian growled, his fist moving to his rigid shaft and pumping it lightly, “you look positively sinful so full of our seed, but I think you can do better. What do you say love?”

Hook ducked between her legs as Killian watched, his tongue running up her slit and lapping, lips sealing around her abused flesh and massaging as he sucked, her hips bucking toward him as she released a lengthy cry, nodding furiously at Killian as he ran his palm down his length and cupped his balls, weighing them as if to see how much more he could leave inside of her.

“Yes...fuck...yes, more, Killian,” she gasped, her legs jerking at the restraints as Hook's tongue swirled inside of her wet sheath before pulling away, his lips and scruff glistening as he smirked from between her legs and crawled up her body.

“Open your mouth then, love,” Killian warned, taking the place Hook had vacated and stroking the velvety head of his cock over her folds. “If you want me to take you once more like the filthy, come-filled wench you are, then you'll open your mouth and swallow down every drop you're given.”  

Emma's body shook at his commands, anticipation scorching along her skin as she snapped her mouth open and Hook leaned over her, his supple lips opening as he met the bitten flesh of her own, the combination of their warm releases sliding from his mouth into hers, slipping down her tongue and into her throat as he pushed for entry, his tongue curling over hers and sharing every sinful taste of himself – of her, of Killian.

Hook groaned, his fingers knotting in her golden locks as his chest scraped across her breasts, the scratch of his thick chest hair against her nipples making her moan, every inch of her body tingling and edging closer to a pulsing, consuming chaos – and Killian hadn't even entered her yet.

“That's a good girl,” Killian purred from between her legs, and without any further warning, he sheathed his entire length inside of her, meeting no resistance as what was left of Hook's lingering release was pushed from inside of her, coating them both once more in slick arousal, “our good, good girl...”

It was almost immediate, her body to sensitive to resist, another orgasm ripping through her with no control as she arched against the bed before falling heavily back down. Killian fucked her through it, broken words falling from his lips as she felt his thrusts falter for a moment, his cock slipping almost entirely out of her as something pulled at her ankles – and then they were freed, her thighs burning as Killian lifted both her legs and tossed them over his shoulders, rising up on his haunches and pushing back in to fill her, his thick cock nudging the very entrance to her womb.

“Over here, Emma – we can't have you leaving a mess,” Hook teased, his words floating to her through a fog, the sudden weight of his palm turning her face to the side where his cock was waiting for her, softening and glistening with their juices.

She opened her mouth and stretched to take him in, the carnal knowledge that right now she was nothing more than a warm body for her two lovers to take their pleasure in, servicing them clean, enough to wash any discomfort from her limbs as Killian rammed himself into her, his balls slapping against her ass, each impact of his hips driving her farther into a swirl of ecstasy that seemed unending.  

“No, I don't think so,” Hook chided, pulling his cock just out of reach of her questing mouth. “Just your tongue, darling.”

Emma couldn't help the needy groan that fell from her lips, the filthy things they were doing to her, asking of her – giving her the things she'd asked for, things she'd only dreamt about, had never voiced aloud before...

Hook shivered as she stuck out her tongue, dragging it slowly along his shaft as he moved closer, lapping at the release clinging to him and swallowing it down as she worked her way around him. Killian's pace was unrelenting as he pounded into her, her body rocking solidly into the bed, each thrust he made echoed by the delicious sounds of their lovemaking, his cock dragging from her wet, swollen depths before plunging back in. Hook moaned as Emma laved the tip of his member, her lips rolling and pushing back skin as she sucked every bit of herself from his hardening flesh – good god, she didn't think she could go again.

She drew in a sharp breath at the feel of Killian's teeth marking her leg, his hips stilling for a moment at the end of each thrust as he savored being surrounded by her depths, her walls clutching at his girth. She felt delirious with the sensations they were both pulling from her, her awareness of everything beyond the way they felt inside of her gone – every inch of her skin aflame and the core of her being as thick and fluid as molten lava.

She moved with purpose down the underside of Hook's cock as he angled nearer, his hand lifting its weight when she nosed against the damp skin of his sack, caressing each heavy globe with the flat of her tongue before trying to roll its fullness into her mouth – but with her hands still tied, she couldn't get what she wanted, and a whimper of desperation fell from her as she tried to wriggle closer.

“Does my filthy princess need her mouth filled?” Hook crooned, Emma nodding insistently against his pebbled flesh, her nose nudging the delicate globe inside, “and how do you ask nicely, love?”

“Please,” she groaned, mouthing at what she could reach, wanting to feel the weight of each delicious sphere sliding into her mouth. “Please, I need it...need you...”

“Give our dirty minx what she needs,” Killian growled from between her legs, his thrusts becoming erratic as sweat dripped along his neck to settle at the edge of his collarbone, “keep that mouth of hers sated while I fill up the rest of her, Jones.”

A wave of satisfaction roared through her, tingling along her legs and pooling at her fingertips as Hook pressed forward and gave her what she was craving, his cock resting heavily against her face as he used his fingers to cup his balls and hold them steady while she sucked one in, earning a groan from both of her pirates at the sight. Humming around the deep, satisfying taste of him, Emma rolled her tongue beneath the heavy weight, wishing she could hold them both in the warmth of her mouth. She felt the slow bump of his fingers moving along his shaft, his skin slick with her saliva as he lazily stroked himself above her, and she carefully dragged her teeth over the taut skin of his sack, letting him drop free as he moaned, drinking in her swollen lips and body flushed to perfection as she rocked beneath Killian's exertions.    

With almost no warning, the tension in Emma's body flooded free, the spiral of bliss that had felt never ending becoming a perfect ache that rolled over her once more, her pleasure drawn out of her on a wordless cry as her senses trembled between feeling too much and nothing at all, her walls contracting tightly as Killian continued to slide in and out of their grasp, his cock swelling as he prepared to fill her once more.  

“Gods, you're a bloody vision,” Hook breathed, dropping to seize her lips with his own, her body twisting as she tried desperately to find equal ground with him, but it was impossible until he relented, hastily untying one of her restraints so that she could meet him in turn. Her muscles burned as she grabbed his hair and tugged him against her, her moans swallowed by the heat of his mouth as Killian cried out with his release, the thick length of his cock throbbing hotly within her as he mouthed the bruised flesh of her leg and held his shaking hips firmly against her body.

He thrust into her twice more, a shiver racing along his spine as her soft whimpers and the slowly ebbing pull of her flesh drained every last drop of his essence, his body falling heavily forward as he let her legs drop back to the bed. His forehead was resting hot and sweaty below her breasts as she shuddered the last of her orgasm from her body, her fingers combing through both of her lovers' tousled locks contentedly.

“That was...”

“Something we'll have to repeat,” Emma murmured, feeling the fresh slip of Killian's release smearing between them as he shifted, every inch of her body feeling deliciously used in a way she knew she would feel for days to come.

END

Tagging: @justanother-unluckysoul @kmom0f4 @the-darkdragonfly @teamhook @zaharadessert @xarandomdreamx @jrob64 @wefoundloveunderthelight @tiganasummertree @pirateprincessofpizza @lfh1226-linda @alexa-fangirl-forever @alifeofdreams @superchocovian @donteattheappleshook @hollyethecurious @caught-in-the-filter @snowbellewells @itsfabianadocarmo @stahlop @karlyfr13s  

[rezdogsyonder]

Similar Circumstances (2)

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Summary: Loki and reader have to tell Fury about what happened and deal with the consequences.

Warnings: smut like right off the bat, over simulation, choking, cockwarming, hair pulling, magic against the reader,

A/N: this is unfinished and will remain unfinished because I am leaving tumblr and will not be coming back. If someone were to want to continue this they are allowed to do so.

**********

You woke up feeling more exhausted than anything, you wanted to slip back into unconsciousness, but are unable to due to a growing headache. You groan in response to it getting worse before you feel something cold pressed to your forehead and you feel a bit at ease. A haze falling over you, that you can’t quite comprehend.

You are so glad for having days off after parties, it sorta became a customary rule made by Tony since him and most of the team were getting trashed at pretty much every gathering.

A dull throbbing between your legs becomes more apparent and you are forced into forming a coherent thought. The first thing to your mind is your actions from last night, the drinking, the library, and oh god... Loki. The reason for the throbbing between your legs, the reason you are a little sore. You’re glad for your enhanced healing, and hope the rest of this uncomfortable feeling goes away within the next few hours. But you have higher priorities right now.

Loki. Who is still nestled deeply inside of you. Who you seemed to have stirred awake with your moans and groans of waking up. Your wiggling probably didn’t help the situation either.

“Mmm... my love, how did you sleep?” He asked in a low morning voice. How can he sound so sexy at a time like this? He removed his had from your forehead and you whimper lightly at the loss of relief.

“Oh?” You yawned, “really good, and it might be thanks to a certain god.” You smiled into his neck. You’re still straddling him, and he seems to be waking up, from what you feel down there, you’re waking up too.

“It seems like you slept good. No?” You lean up to look at him, he kneeds your ass cheeks before stealing a kiss.

“Indeed.” As quick as his sentence was over, he had you flipped onto your back. He was most definitely hard again, there is no doubt about it. You’re already turned on already which doesn’t seem possible. The shift causing him to slip deeper inside of you. You cuss, and bite your lip.

“You like that love?” His hand reaching up lazily to rest upon your throat, light squeezes coming from his fingers. “You like having my cock in your sweet cunt all night? Hmm?”

He slowly pulls out till he has just the tip in your entrance, and he pushes back in excruciatingly slow. You feel every. Single. Vein.

You nod while moaning, grabbing the back of his neck to bring him down and kiss you. Tongues battling for dominance. You then rake your nails down his back. You realize that he must like this, because he arches his back and groans into your mouth when you do this.

It is the hottest thing when you are able to see when you do something that brings him pleasure. His low growl, the way he breaks the kiss to look at you with hooded eyes. All while he’s still torturing you with his cock.

“Loki... please.” You pant. “I need you to go faster. Please. I need you.” You plead with him,

“As you wish,” and his pace began to pick up, the sound of skin on skin ringing throughout the room. His hands reaches down and is fondling your breasts, mouth on your nipple expertly drawing moans out of you.

Your hands are everywhere, just trying to pull him closer than he already is. Which isn’t really possible. Pulling at his waist, before tracing up to his shoulders, then to his neck. One hand reaching up and into his hair, pulling lightly but just enough to get him to look at you. He growled at the sensation, and he sped up again.

“Oh you really do have a way of testing me, my love.” He claimed your lips with his own while his hands bring your knees to rest over his shoulders. The new angle makes him rub against that spot that has you incoherent and seeing stars. Your eyes roll back and Loki begins kissing up your neck.

“Do you belong to me?” He whispered in your ear before sucking onto your sweet spot.

“Yes.” Drawing out the word with a long moan.

“Who do you belong to? Tell me.”

“You... Loki. I belong t-to you.”

“That’s right. You’re mine.” He’s reaches down and begins rubbing circles into your clit. Pleasure building, you arch your back, that coil in your belly winding tight but you’re not quite there yet. You grind into him, chasing that peak.

“Cum for me darling.” That was it. All you needed was his voice to push you over the edge. You clench around him, and the moan you draw out of him is the most beautiful thing you can hear at that moment.

He fucked you through your orgasm keeping the steady rhythm, and you’re not coming back down. He’s still rubbing tight circles on your clit. At first it was feeling like heaven, but now it has tears running down your face. Your fingernails going down his back. Your moans enough to rival a porn star.

“Gods, you look beautiful right now,” he slowed, just enough for you to calm down. “Come on love, I know you have another in you.” He flipped you onto your belly and quickly thrusted back into you. He held your hips forcing your ass to stick in the air while your face is in the sheets. He is already beginning a punishing pace.

“Oh god, Loki... I can’t.” Your voice is slightly muffled, his fingers encircling your throat, pulling you back flush against him. He is rutting into you in a steady, unforgiving, rhythm.

“Yes, you can and you will.”

You turn your head to kiss him, a hand coming up to hold his head. This orgasm sneaking on you, you were brought to the edge immediately. You moan against his mouth and he gladly swallows it up.

He works you through this one as well, and it isn’t as intense but it is no shorter than the last one, but he doesn’t seem to be slowing down. Only speeding up. You feel him twitch within you, he’s close, chasing his own relief.

“Beg for me, beg for my seed. Tell me what you want.”

“Please Loki. Please cum in me. I need you.” Three more thrusts and a warmth fills you and you are able yo come down from the ridiculous high Loki brought you into. He peppers your neck with kisses and you hum with delight. The haze had left, but with every kiss that makes contact with your skin, it is slowly coming back.

“Well, good morning.” You smiled, and brought him in for a kiss. His tongue swiped over your bottom lip, asking for entrance once again, slowly mapping out your mouth before pulling away slightly. Dragging your bottom lip out with his teeth.

“Hmm, that it is.” Fingers lightly grazing over your skin before he firmly grabs your hips, he slowly pulls himself out of you while he sucks another mark into your shoulder. You let out a low whine, not liking the emptiness.

He steps off the bed tenderly holding your hand, “Come love, let us bathe together.” You smiled again, eager to continue in the shower.

**********

The shower was spent exactly as you would expect it would. But you are clean nonetheless. Dressed professionally to go admit the most unprofessional thing you could do. Fury is going to be livid. Or he’ll make fun of you two in front of the whole building. The former is actually preferable.

Loki, the lucky bastard, used magic to get himself ready. One snap and he was dressed and ready for what came next, and he just sat back and watched you do everything you needed. A comfortable silence over the two of you. You finish up your face with a nice red lipstick before you look down and see hickeys all over your neck.

You grab some foundation to attempt to hide the bruises all around your neck and using color corrector over each one. Why they are still not healed you have no idea. Though they will be gone by dinner, so you can’t really complain. You remember a time when you had to cover them for days.

“Why do you hide them?” He walked to wear you were sitting, putting his hands on your shoulders.

“I don’t want to give Fury another thing to scold us over.” You feel his hand on your neck, the gesture becoming natural feeling, and he tilts your chin back and kisses your forehead. The kiss sends tingles down to your neck, a cool buzz resting there.

“There, now only my eyes can see them.” You look down to see that he’s right, you can see in the mirror that there is nothing marring your skin.

“Whoa, okay.” You shove your brush into your makeup bag, feeling a little sick to your stomach. Taking one last look in the mirror, you’re wearing a black blazer with a white tank underneath and black fitted slacks and black stilettos. Not there same ones as last night though, you can’t seem to find them and you can only hope that they weren’t left anywhere obvious.

You two go to leave your room but you stop him. “Wait,” you hold his arm before he is able to turn the doorknob. “What if we can’t be together? It’s not going to be the same when we leave this room.”

“We’ll find a way darling.” He interlaced his fingers with yours and he placed a kiss on your cheek. Turning the knob you two begin to make your way to the main floor of the Avengers workplace.

**********

You got to his office when he was out, it was a bit of a relief and somehow made it a little worse. His assistant telling you to just wait in his office, and you’re practically jumping out of your skin. It’s even worse since you can’t even sit next to Loki.

It seems Fury knew somehow and put the seats just barely out of reach of each other. Meanwhile Loki was trying to get you to calm down, telling you a story of him and Thor when they were younger.

“—I do not know how he is able to sense me, even when I am a snake, but it ruined the trick I had for him. Since I haven’t done anything to him in the past 80 years I shall—“ he couldn’t finish his story when the door is swung open in a harsh manner.

“Son of a bitch.” Fury chuckled. “Son of a bitch!” He crossed the room to sit at his desk. An uncomfortable tension falling over the room when he just sits there staring at the two of you.

“You could not keep it in your pants for one day? I expected more from you L/N, maybe not from him, but you?” You look down, feeling as though you’ve gotten in trouble and sent to the principles office.

“With all due respect sir,” you gulped, trying to look him in the eye, “it wasn’t planned. At all.”

“I know it wasn’t planned smart ass, but there are rules. Regulations you have to abide by. You can’t just think that you’re exempt just because you’re a fan favorite,” he gestured to you. “Or a newbie, and by the way, great first day.” Fury smiled sarcastically.

“Why thank you sir,” Loki said in a slightly monotone voice, clearly not bothered at all, “the reason Y/N and I came here today was to tell you of our flout of the afformentioned policy, we realized our mistake, and came straight to you, and I don’t know why you would make such a rule but it is quite ignorant. If you are going to get mad at anyone it should be me, I am the one who pursued Y/N. Not the other way around. I would like to also tell you that I am going to continue pursuing Miss L/N, whether you give me permission or not.”

You had no idea what to say, Loki had said it all, and a little extra. You would never have spoken to Fury that way. You look from Loki back to him and he looks pleasantly surprised.

“Okay.” Fury touched his fingers together and leans back in his chair, a faint smirk resting on his face.

“Okay?” Now you were the one who is surprised. You look to Loki who is also looking slightly confused.

“Okay,” he confirmed, “anybody who is willing to talk to me like that has some balls, and with that you have gained some of my respect. Now leave before I change my mind.”

“Thank you sir.” You quickly made your way out the door, dragging Loki behind you. You’re relieved he isn’t mad, and that there isn’t really any punishment, but the uneasy feeling in your stomach is still there.

Upon arriving in the elevator you press the floor for the tower common area, which had all the rooms on it. As soon as the doors closed Loki was wrapping his arms around you and picked you up twirling you. A small gasp and a squeak escaping your lips.

“See my dear? There was no reason to fret over Fury.” He’s smiling up at you before slowly letting you slide down to let your feet touch the ground. “So now that we have the blessing of Fury, will you be mine?”

The unease is washed away, and another haze comes over you, like a veil. “...Y-yes, of course.”

He grabs your face and brings your lips together in a loving, sweet kiss. Not as intense as his earlier kisses, but you still feel that electricity. Your hands move from his shoulders the left one coming down to rest on his chest, the right going up to the nape of his neck. The kiss slowly becoming more heated, and you want to keep pulling him closer. Too preoccupied with each other you two don’t notice when the elevator door opens and—

“Whoa, what the Fuck?” Sam averted his eyes dramatically, causing you to roll yours.

“Shut it Wilson.” You separates yourself from Loki and walk past him. Loki following close behind.

“Whoa-ho-ho! Y/N and Loki sittin’ in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G.” Sam laughs as the doors close slowly. Too slow for your taste.

“I imagine the rest of the reactions will be of the same nature.” Loki smirked behind you.

“Ugh, god I hope not, but probably.” You keep walking till you get to the kitchen area. “You want breakfast?” You turn to look at him as you put an apron on.

“Yes that would be wonderful. I haven’t had a Midgardian breakfast.”

“Oh really, what did you guys have on Asgard?” You pull out your ingredients and start the stove.

“Dagveror the day meal, and Nattveror the night meal. Both were filled with copious amounts of meat, wine, and fruits.” As he’s talking you mix everything to make the batter.

“Oh well, we have pancakes!” Holding up your bowl. You bring it to the now heated stove, expertly pouring a perfect circle, and heading to the fridge for the many fruits that are always there. Turning around you bump into Loki’s chest.

“That sounds delightful, but I can think of something else I would rather ravish.” His eyes roaming all over you. You can’t do anything now that you’re in his hold, he places his forehead on yours and you close your eyes.

Your lips finally touch, slowly moving together, his tongue moving over your bottom lip. You allow him entrance, the kiss is slow but no less passionate than your other kisses.

A throat clearing interrupts you two and you pull away to look at who it is. Tony is standing there, hands on his hips in a robe looking disheveled.

“Gross.” The single word statement said a lot more than what was heard. His disgust clearly displayed on his face and in his tone. He went around the two of you quickly to the fridge to grab the carton of orange juice. Leaving the room without another word.

“Hopefully the others take the news a lot better than them.”

**********

[there-must-be-a-lock]

Prey (Part 2/2)

Soulless!Sam x Reader

Word Count: ~2160

Warnings: Smut. Hooooo boy. He sticks his fingers in her mouth and makes her gag, briefly, and she likes it but you as a reader might not. Beyond that, I have no idea what to put here. The warning from the previous part, “can’t tell if he’s going to fuck her or kill her,” still very much applies, but he doesn’t kill her. There is enthusiastic consent, there’s nothing painful or kinky happening, no toys, no restraints, just... it’s dark.

A/N: Previous part is HERE.

He gets up and gets a glass of water, chugging it down before refilling it for her. She looks more composed when he comes back. She’s flushed, sweaty, still breathing heavy, but she shoots him a satisfied smile as she takes the glass. Sam pastes on a bland smile of his own as he takes off his boxer-briefs and slides back into bed next to her.

When she passes the glass back, Sam twists around to put it on the nightstand, and then she’s swinging a leg over his lap to straddle him. He rests his hands gently on her thighs and takes a second to appreciate all the bare skin on display. She curls warm fingers around the base of his cock, positioning herself over him, and then she pauses for a moment, raising an eyebrow at him silently.

“Consider this your formal invitation,” Sam smirks, and her breathy laugh turns into a groan as she sinks down with one smooth movement.

Sam grits his teeth and grabs her hips, squeezing harder than he probably should, adjusting to the way she feels: slick velvet heat, so fucking good he can barely see straight. It takes every bit of his self-control to fight that animalistic urge to fuck, to just piston his hips up and drive in deep.

Instead he lets her set the pace, and she doesn’t seem to be in any rush. She moves slowly, adjusting, shifting forward and back, and Sam watches the way her eyes flutter closed, the way she bites her lip. She’s sitting up, and Sam has a stellar view of the little twitches of muscles working in her abs, the tremors that are still running through her thighs, as she rocks her hips. She’s putting on a show for him, running her hands up her own torso; she palms her breasts and pinches her nipples, and Sam lets out a low noise of encouragement.

When she leans back, resting her weight behind herself, it changes the angle; Sam can hear her soft moan at the same moment he feels the rippling squeeze of her pussy around him as he presses into some new spot deep inside her. She lets out a sigh and rolls her hips. Sam stares hungrily at the place where their bodies come together, her cunt stretched tight around the flushed-dark, glistening-wet base of his cock. He rocks up into her slightly and she gasps, letting her head fall back on her shoulders, arching her back.

“Fuck yeah,” she groans. He adjusts his grip on her waist and rocks up again, harder, with a sharp jerk of his hips. The impact makes her breasts bounce and jiggle. He imagines what she’ll look like later, all that smooth pretty skin marked up by his teeth and fingernails.

She’s panting, now, bucking her hips up, matching the rhythm of his quick, shallow thrusts. He can feel her cunt pulsing and clenching around him, hot and slick and throbbing.

“Look at you,” he says approvingly. “Didn’t think you could get any wetter, the mess you made all over my face, but I can feel you dripping down my cock right now… you’re gonna come again, aren’t you?”

“Don’t stop,” she chokes out, screwing herself down on him with frantic, jerky movements.

“Nowhere near done with you yet,” Sam promises, and he can hear the way she whimpers at that, the way she clenches down hard and fast, and she throws her head back with a broken shout and a long, filthy moan as she comes. Sam fucks her through it, closing his eyes against the obscene sight of her heaving chest and belly: nipples tight and hard, sweat streaking down the swells of her breasts, hips twitching, his fingers digging into her flesh so hard he knows he’ll leave bruises.

He gives her a minute, waiting for the shudders to stop. She lets out a satisfied little sigh, hips still working in languid circles, and he tugs her forward for a kiss.

He flips them without pulling out, just rolling her easily onto her back and grinding in deep, and she lets out a surprised yelp that turns into a long, drawn-out whimper.

She’s loose-limbed and pliant, still riding the high of the last orgasm; he knows it’ll take some time before she’s begging for another. She’ll get there, though. She’s slick and relaxed and ready for him, taking every slow thrust with a little hum of pleasure. She runs her hands up and down Sam’s back, his arms, his shoulders, gently urging him deeper, touching him like she’s just reveling in the sensation.

Sam marvels at how trusting she looks. Her lips are curved up in a sweet smile, blissed-out and peaceful. Her body welcomes him in with every roll of his hips. He’s got her pinned, helpless, so soft and unsuspecting and eager. He could do anything to her right now.

He hitches her leg up higher around his waist and pulls almost all the way out before he pauses, just the head of his cock inside her. She whines, eyes fluttering open to give him a look that’s almost petulant in her surprise. Sam grins.

“Don’t tease,” she says, all breathy and delicate.

“It’s only teasing if you don’t follow through,” Sam smirks. He sinks in slow, inch by inch, perfectly controlled, feeling the way she arches her back and tilts her hips and stretches around him, until he’s buried as deep as he can be and she’s practically purring with satisfaction. He shifts and tries it again, experimenting, gauging her reactions.

So maybe he is teasing, but it’s fun.

She bites her lip when he twists his hips a certain way, whimpers when he grinds against her swollen clit, digs her fingernails into his back when he slides out torturously slow… Sam feels like he’s playing an instrument as he watches her respond to each tiny change in the friction between their bodies.

She’s starting to cross the line between pleasure and need, clenching down around him and panting as she tries to pull him in closer.

He shifts his weight and finds that angle again, the one that made her gasp and squirm, and when he drives in deep he can feel what it does to her. She practically chokes on her sharp inhale, eyes rolling back, and her silky cunt is flooded with this rush of wet heat, so goddamn good that it takes every bit of Sam’s willpower to hold back.

He sets a steady pace, not quite enough to tip her over the edge, just fast enough to push her to the edge and keep her there.

Sam’s muscles start to protest the even, unchanging rhythm, but it’s worth it to see that expression on her face, the way her pretty features start to contort into a grimace. It doesn’t take long before she’s cursing and clawing at his shoulders, nails biting into the skin and leaving fiery trails as they drag down his back.

“Oh, come on,” she groans. Sam grins to himself.

“Something wrong?”

“Come on, fucking fuck me,” she snaps. “I’m not gonna break.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Sam growls.

Her voice is ragged, but there’s a challenge in it as she hisses, defiant: “C’mon, is that the best you’ve got?”

Sam slams into her and stops, abrupt and immediate, tension coiling in his muscles as he forces himself to freeze. He can feel her twitching and writhing, squeezing around the length of his cock where he’s splitting her open, trying to force him to move. He’s shoving her down into the mattress and holding her, pinning her with his weight. She’s helpless.

He can hear the moment she realizes it; her voice catches on a curse and trails off as she realizes, belatedly, how badly this could go. Sam smiles and wonders how long it’s been since someone heard that challenge in her voice for what it was.

“On your knees,” he snaps, and he pulls out, sitting back on his heels and waiting. He watches her impassively as she stares, wide-eyed, making a decision. He can see the frantic cornered animal in her battling with the pure desperate lust, and lust wins, like he thought it would; this is exactly what she wanted, whether she’s willing to admit it or not.

She scrambles onto her hands and knees, arching her back like a cat in heat and spreading her legs, putting her glistening-wet cunt on display for him. She’s offering herself up to him, utterly shameless, and he takes a moment to appreciate the filthy pornographic sight.

Then he sidles up behind her, shoving her knees farther apart so that he can kneel between them. He bends forward slowly, deliberately, draping himself over her, curling one arm around her ribs, gentle like a caress. He tangles the other hand in her hair. Then he yanks, forcefully hauling her upright, making her cry out and almost lose her balance. He holds her in place with a palm flat against her breastbone, her back to his chest, and she clutches at his forearm, whimpering.

When he releases his grip on her hair and slides his hand down to her lower belly instead, she lets her head loll back against his shoulder, baring her throat for him. His cock is still wet from her, still rock-hard and aching, and when he presses his hips forward, she sucks in a labored breath and grinds back against him.

“Now,” Sam whispers, deathly calm, against her ear. “Was there something you wanted to say?”

She bites out each syllable, enunciating with exaggerated care: “Is that. The best. You’ve got?”

Sam clenches his jaw, tamping down the white-hot flare of anger. He’s not going to be the one to lose control here.

He inches his hand down to her slick, swollen entrance, sliding two fingers in, up to the second knuckle. She groans low in her throat. He can feel her knees shaking, threatening to buckle.

He raises his hand to eye level so that they can both see the wet shine on his fingertips. He holds them to her mouth and waits. Slowly, obediently, she licks them clean.

Then he pushes deeper, rough and careless, shoving them between her parted lips until she starts to gag.

He doesn’t have to say a word; Sam’s pretty sure she gets the message.

He eases up, letting her draw a strangled breath, but he keeps his fingers pressed down on her tongue as a reminder. Her body is stiff and tense against his, trembling slightly, and he can feel her heartbeat pounding under his palm.

“Let’s try that again,” he whispers. “Was there something you wanted to say?”

He smiles smugly as she tries to answer. With her tongue trapped under his fingers, the words come out as choked, garbled noise. He pulls them away, just rests them on her bottom lip, and lets her try again.

“Please,” she croaks. Her cheeks are flushed deep red; it might be shame, or arousal, or a combination of both.

“Please what?”

“Please fuck me. Hard.”

“That’s better,” he snarls, and he shoves her down on all fours.

She’s trying to brace herself, pushing up onto her forearms, but Sam’s done waiting. He grabs her hips and shoves in all at once, hard and fast, groaning as he’s enveloped by feverish drenching heat.

He runs his hand down her spine, from the nape of her neck down the sweeping curve of her back, all the way down to palm the plush swell of her ass. It’s unreal how tight she feels in this position; he’s got her stuffed full, her cunt clamping down in pulses of slippery pressure as she tries to adjust to the stretch, and she’s rocking back like she wants more even as she lets out a broken, helpless sob. It feels like he could rip her apart with one rough thrust.

Then again, that’s sort of the point, isn’t it?

He gets this hunger, this urge to destroy, to take something beautiful and tear it to shreds, and maybe he could go find a fight or he could take what he wants by force, but where’s the fun in that? He’s the apex predator; nobody else would stand a chance if it was a matter of pure strength.

But here she is, face-down and squirming, not only letting him break her but desperate for it. That takes skill.

“Sure you don’t want me to go easy on you?” he asks softly. “You might thank me for it, later.”

She lets out a shaky moan. “Anything. I can take it, just - whatever you want. Anything you want. Please.”

There’s a dark thrill of need at the base of Sam’s spine, a red haze at the edges of his vision, wildfire surging under his skin.

Any animal can hunt, trap, kill… how many can make their prey enjoy it?

.

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