#and the suspender straps too!! pointing!!

[tojisun]

Thoughts on pegging? If you’re into it thoughts on pegging soap???

i have thoughts. many of them, in fact.

additional cw: breeding kink & unrealistic sex

it started off as a drunken joke between me and my friends but i kept tumbling the idea in my head and realized that i like it a little too much. that it wasn’t a haha moment for me—it’s a visceral turn-on.

just. the idea of climbing atop a man as i fist my strap-on, so grounded in how i must look (beautiful, maybe, with my matching colours of bra and strap).. the idea of folding his legs to his stomach, my stomach slotting perfectly on the underside of his thighs.. the idea of crooning reassurances as i guide the bulbed head to his puckering hole, watching the dildo glisten with the excess lube lathered on his skin.. the idea of watching him gasp out in pleasure, his face creased with his peaking euphoria—

oh.

oh i need it.

johnny would be so beautiful—all flushed and sweaty, his overgrown mohawk a mess with how much his hair’s been ruffled against the pillows. he’s blinking his wet eyes up at you, kiss-swollen lips gnawed on by his own teeth as he shakes in his anticipation.

“y’ready for me, baby?” you ask, breathless yourself because this is new. this is different.

all it was before was a maybe. a next time, if you want?

it never reached this point. never been a possibility. but here johnny is, laid before you, all giddy and excited, his blood thrumming with his own need.

“yeah,” he finally replies, a croak with how his voice sticks to his throat. “wan’ ye now.”

“okay,” you whisper, rubbing your hand softly on the dip of his hip, your thumb dimpling his skin. okay.

it’s all so careful, tender, but so, so messy. so wet and slippery. you totally missed your mark, and the silicone ended up rutting against johnny’s balls, making him hiss at the muted pleasure.

the two of you freeze, all noise snuffed out at your blunder. it takes johnny snorting out a half-smothered chortle for you to move again.

“shit, m’bad,” you grunt out, ignoring the way your cheeks begin to flood with warmth, burning you up from the base of your neck to the crown of your head, but johnny continues to sputter out his laughter, bulkier body shaking at his ecstatic giggles, and you pinch him in retaliation.

it only makes him bite back a smile, his cheeks round and red, and his eyes narrowed in contained-desire. and he looks so, so beautiful before you like this.

all loose and relaxed, trust handed over to you. he is so confident in himself; so sure of your ability to fuck him good even with your little nervous mistake.

he laughs because the unsureness is part of the thrill—watching you navigate through the flow of taking him, stumbling but resolute. just as desperate.

you huff, pitching forward just enough to nuzzle your nose on his jaw. “shut.”

johnny nips your cheek in reply.

the second time you line up your strap to his puckering hole, the two of you are wide-eyed, trembling, breaths coming out in ragged rasps.

you couldn’t tear your eyes off his hole when you push in—not even the sound of johnny’s quiet moan could make you falter—watching the tight ring expand, pink and glistening as more lube trickles down the shaft of your strap at every inch he takes. it’s all so sinful. debauched. sloppy.

“jesussss,” johnny rasps out, dizzy and aching, and he sounds so wrecked you that couldn’t help but drag your eyes away from his pretty hole to watch him.

you expected the fevered blush, the spit-slicked lips, the blown-wide pupils. but you didn’t expect how catastrophic it looks on johnny, so raw with his pleasure, so wild with his hunger.

he looks lost in the feeling, suspended within the moment, like all that exists is the euphoria razing through him.

you know that feeling. johnny has always filled you up to the point that your toes tingle and your cunt flutters and your mind is static like it is packed with cotton so you know where he is at right now. you just didn’t know how addicting it is to be the one to be giving out that feeling. to be the cause.

your core throbs, slick gathering between your thighs, and you whimper, unable to stop yourself, before you’re digging your feet into the mattress and fucking all of the remaining inches in.

johnny’s eyes bulge out, awareness snapping back into him. his jaw drops, his tongue lolling out uselessly, before a choked keen rumbles from the base of his throat—

your pelvis is pressed flush to his when he gargles out, “fu-huuuu!”

his cock is leaking, beads of pre- dribbling from his slit to stain his abdomen, dragging some patches of his hair into pearly-sheened clumps. you rut close, hips rolling softly, trying to nudge your strap into the sensitive part of his walls, and johnny huffs, breathing through his mouth as he tries to get used to the feeling of being filled. stuffed.

your need grows, mouth salivating.

you grin, so mean it passes off as a snarl, before you pull out, murmuring shushing noises at johnny’s hiccup, until all that’s left is the curved head of your dildo.

you don’t even know why you looked, what could it have been that compelled you, but you flit your eyes to your strap only to pause with a sharp intake of air.

the shaft of the silicone is shiny. drenched.

fuck—

you snap your hips forward, bullying all of your cock back into johnny’s walls. he screams, blunt nails clawing the sheets at the razing pleasure. your mind is screaming with only one thought—i know.

you know how it feels; how maddening it can be. how dizzying it will be.

how each thrust is too much and not enough, at the same time. how the feeling of getting fucked is like being set ablaze; like feeling euphoria lapping from the base of your feet and into the plane of your spine. and seeing johnny squirm, and hearing johnny sob—it makes you fuck him harder, faster, wanting to make him cum.

his cock bobs between you two angrily, flushed so prettily and leaking so, so much.

you almost giggle at how wet he is until johnny’s words pierces through you.

“deeper, bon,” he mewls, voice sticky with his tears. “wan’ you deeper.”

you tremble at the sight he makes, all so beautiful under you like this. begging so prettily like if he doesn’t, you wouldn’t give it to him. like you would hold his bliss above him and make him cry for it.

and you don’t know what is it that overtook you—you lean forward, brushing your nose with his—what it is that filled you up as you tremble, your skin dotted with goosebumps—but all you tell your boy, with your voice rasping out of you like a croon, is—

“y’sure, johnny? might make y’pregnant if i fuck any deeper.”

johnny’s breath stutters, his eyes going impossibly wider—

“fuck,” he hisses out. “fuckfuckfuck—”

sincere apologies but ive been. pondering

[bellaveux]

hi, are you still taking requests? if yes then i would like to request top! wanda x sub!reader where r was caught touching herself with their recent purchase wand vibrator and wanda decided to let r cums but r has to count 50 to 0. and after every time r cums the count will shorten by 10 but the wand will be increasing up a notch. and at the end wanda decided to finish it by fucking r senseless. please and thank you. 🥺

count for me | w. maximoff

pairing: wanda maximoff x fem!reader

summary: wanda comes home and finds her favorite girl playing with that new vibrator she had recently purchased.

content warnings: minors dni. smut; dom!wanda maximoff x sub!reader, pwp, use of toys (vibrator), overstimulation, strap-on sex (r receiving), kinda pervy wanda, rough sex, multiple orgasms, dumbification kinda, praising

wc: 1.9k

She could hear you. The moment she walked through the front door of your shared home. She could hear the way you whimper, whine, and try to muffle your moans—a soft buzzing sound breaking the silence that filled the entire house. The air seemed to be holding its breath as she walked slowly down the hall. The sounds of your pleasure had already started making her dizzy, almost as if she were getting drunk off of it. It had been too quiet when she first arrived home, and you were unusually nowhere to be seen, but the hushed silence faded away when she got closer to her bedroom door. With each step she took, the prettiest moans that fell from your lips got louder and louder, bouncing against the walls and into her ears. When she got close enough, Wanda's measured steps ceased, and a subtle tension filled the air.

The door stood just a crack open, revealing a slender slit of the space inside the room. A soft beam of light filtered through, casting a delicate glow that painted the room in muted hues. Wanda's gaze lingered on the partially open door, and in that suspended moment, curiosity mingled with a gentle sense of trepidation. She took a peak. She couldn’t help it.

The lamp was on. You were there. Laying on the bed you shared with her, writhing, trembling, and quivering with your hand holding that new vibrator Wanda had recently bought for you underneath your panties as you whimpered into the pillow. You looked so pretty. Her sweet girl, moaning her name quietly as you tried so desperately to chase the high of pleasure you were struggling to get. The sight of you made Wanda weak in her knees to the point where she almost just gave out and kneeled down. She composed herself remarkably, and took a deep breath before pushing the door open even more and stepping inside.

You couldn’t see her; your eyes closed shut as you continued to pleasure yourself. And before you could react, you felt a pair of lips press against your neck. You jumped slightly in surprise as Wanda held you down against the mattress.

“Started without me, sweetheart?” She whispered into your neck. You moved slightly, pressing your lips together as you tried to pull the vibrator away from your clit, but Wanda grabbed your wrist and pushed it even harder against your bundle of nerves. “Oh, don’t let me interrupt, baby. Keep going for me.”

“W-Wanda—”

“Tell me, baby. How many times did you come before I came in?” She asked as she left wet, open-mouthed kisses along the line of your neck all the way up to your jaw.

You shuddered at the feeling, your blush only darkening on your cheeks, “O-Once.”

“Is that the truth?”

You nod your head rapidly, eagerly trying to convince her that it is with just your face and doe eyes looking up at her.

“Hmm…” Wanda hummed into your ear. “How about you start counting for me, detka? Fifty to zero. You can do it.”

So you started. Fifty to zero, like she said. You could feel the way Wanda smirked against your chest, nuzzling her face against your breasts, immediately noticing the way your hardened nipples pushed themselves against the fabric of your thin shirt. A hand wraps itself around the wand vibrator, her hand tracing over the buttons softly. You were on forty-five, continuing to count as best as you could as Wanda guided the vibrator against your clit.

“Come for me, baby?” She said as you whimpered into her hair.

And you couldn’t help but obey, the sound of her voice ringing in your ears. You shuddered as you came, letting go of the wand to wrap your arms loosely around Wanda’s frame as she hovered over you.

“Again. Start on thirty five, sweetheart.”

And you tried, “T-Thirty—Ah!”

With a click of a button, Wanda turned the vibrator’s intensity up and pressed it even harder against you. You shook underneath her with your mouth open, unable to say anything. She smiled against your cheek before moving to press her lips against yours, shoving her tongue into your mouth as you moaned against her.

She pulled away after a moment of kissing you and smirked, “Count, baby.”

You counted. And counted and counted. All while it kept buzzing. It was faster now. Much, much faster. The wand, your pleasure on the rise, Wanda hovering over you as she watched you. Starting from thirty-five, you made it all the way to twenty-one before you fell apart and came underneath her all over again. Wanda groaned when you cried her name out, coming for the third time tonight. Eventually, your eyes teared up as she continued to hold the vibrator against your cunt without giving you a chance to catch your breath.

Then, she turned it up all the way to its maximum speed.

You squealed and desperately tried to push her hand away as you cried her name out like a prayer. “W-Wanda! Wanda, I-I can’t–”

“Yes, you can. You’re my big girl, aren’t you?” She said, holding you still as you quivered and tried to close your legs shut, practically trapping her hand in between your legs. “Count again, baby. From ten.”

You sobbed against her shoulder. It was too much pleasure. You couldn’t think. You almost couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t stop shaking. And Wanda just smiled at you, kept telling you how good you were doing. So, you kept counting. For her. You tried, at least. With your best effort, you made it to zero, but you came all over again, your slick gushing on the vibrator and Wanda’s hand. She pulled the wand away from your puffy pussy, turning it off, then throwing it to the other side of the bed, and you sighed in relief. A smirk graced her lips as you looked up at her, green eyes staring down at you with pride. God, you were perfect. Her pretty baby. You tried to catch your breath in the meantime before Wanda leaned down to capture your lips with hers, her hands softly smoothing over your legs.

Wanda pulled away to catch her breath. She looked at you with hungry eyes, carefully inspecting all of your features. Stray pieces of hair matted to your forehead as sweat dribbled down your temples. The way your chest rose and fell quickly. The way your hands gripped onto her own shirt. Your legs still quivering. A tiny smile lingering on your lips as you looked at her. Fuck, was all she could think.

Before you could say anything, Wanda pulled back and stepped away.

“Wanda?” You breathed, too tired to move from your spot on the bed.

Under the dim lighting of the lamp on your side table, Wanda suddenly came into your view after hiding in the shadows but immediately leaned down to kiss you once more. She swallowed your whimpers and your quiet moans before flipping you onto your stomach in a swift movement. The kisses she littered against your neck and back were soft as she held you down with her hands pushing you slightly against the mattress.

“Stay still for me, detka.” She whispered from behind you, her whole front pressing against your back.

The first thing you felt were her fingers playing with the hem of your panties, moving them to the side, exposing your already glistening pussy to her. She is too impatient to undress you properly. For a moment, you thought you heard her chuckle, but you could barely think already. She palms your ass a few times before you feel the tip of something hard and big against your cunt. Wanda didn’t give you a second to even ask, slipping her strap into you with ease. Your moan fills the room, louder than all of the whimpers you were letting out just a moment before.

“W-Wanda–”

“Can’t get enough of you, (Y/n),” she groaned, as she slowly thrust her strap into you.

And with the sound of your muffled moans against the pillow and the sight of your hands gripping the sheets, Wanda’s pace didn’t remain gentle for too long. She quickly sped up her thrusts, using your hips to balance herself. Nothing but sweet words of praise left her mouth as she fucked her strap in and out of you.

“Taking me so fucking well, baby. God, look at you. So pretty getting all fucked out by me, huh?”

Among all the mindless praise Wanda whispered into your ear, she straightened her back to admire you beneath her, getting high off of the way you cried her name out as she continued to fuck you. Her hand pulls the flesh of your ass cheek slightly over, watching the way her strap sank into your gushing hole, her length glistening each time she pulled out. Wanda can’t help but roll her eyes to the back of her head as she listens to the way your pussy squelches each time she bottoms out. You always looked so pretty to her, even more so when you’re taking her cock like the good girl you are. And with her name rolling off your tongue like you couldn’t even think about anything else, fuck, you were perfect.

When Wanda thrusts into you one last time, you clench hard, gushing all over her strap. She can feel the way your cum coats her lower half, and she stops for a moment, just to feel the warm, clear liquid running down her tummy and her thighs, feeling as the cold air hits them, leaving her wet and sticky. It wasn’t the first time she made you squirt, but each time she does, she always takes a second. To admire you. Her dumb baby trembling underneath her. How proud of you she was.

“Fucking hell, (Y/n)…”

Wanda leans over, pressing her front against your back as you feel the way her breasts squished against you. You can feel her hair brushing up against your neck and shoulders as she left gentle and soothing kisses against your skin and shoulders. Her hands palmed your hips softly, almost as if she was trying to calm your trembling legs.

Honestly, you didn’t really have the energy to say anything else but her name, “Wanda…”

“I’m here, baby,” you heard her say. “Did so good for me, you know?”

Wanda listened to you hum in satisfaction. She pulls out of you very slowly and carefully before flipping you onto your back. You felt her kiss your lips briefly before she disappeared again to discard her strap and grab a rag to clean you up.

This part was one of Wanda’s favorites. The gradual descent from the high she had you chase over and over and over. The warmth of her palm adorns the side of your face, her thumb smoothing over your cheekbone as your eyelids began to feel heavier with each second that passed. You try to keep your eyes open, just to see your lover staring down at you, still with those dark and lustful eyes. But they were also warm. And sincere.

Wanda rolls her lips onto themselves as if she were trying to bite back a smile. She tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear before leaning down to place the most gentle kiss she could ever give you, muttering those three little words softly against your lips.

— navigation!

[rainrot4me]

Rain’s Kinktober 2024 - 08

Laughing Jack x Male Reader - Wet Dream/Somnophilia

SMUT WARNING MINORS DNI

TW: Somnophilia, gentle non-con, anal, creampie, wet dreams, dream manipulation, forced sleep, praise, size difference, analingus, rimming, felching

Tag: #rainykinktober2024

Words: 2.6k

It’s not your fault that you’re always coming home from work to the point of exhaustion, being overworked every shift.

And it’s also not Jack’s fault you’re just so pliable in that state…

He can’t help himself, can’t bring himself to do the morally right thing and leave you to get a good night's rest- not when you’re only wearing an extra baggy shirt with nothing but boxers underneath.

You’re just too handsome. Your skin is so soft, your hair smells so good, your ass is the perfect shape, your moans are so lovely, and your cum is just so sweet- the list could go on forever.

Everything about you is perfect- especially the way you never know he’s there. Completely oblivious, completely at his mercy.

“Hello, my love…” The clown purrs, perching his long limbs on your dresser and watching silently as you settle and turn in your sleep. Your soft snores are so cute, eyelashes lay so elegantly on your freckled skin. He could just sit here forever watching you like this. But his cock twitching painfully in his slacks urges him forward, his breathing growing uneven.

In the silence of your dark bedroom, the only light is the humming static of the television nestled in the corner, the white light illuminating your sleepy features and flushed skin. Jack wants to take his time, wants to ease you in- you just make it so hard when you’re practically beckoning him in every night.

Adjusting in your sleep, you round onto your side, curling tight as you hold your pillow. Jack presses in, the bed dipping under his weight as he slides beside you.

The clown can feel you stir when he presses against your back, wrapping his long arms around your torso and pressing your back against his large chest. He swallows you whole, intertwining his legs with yours and holding you tight.

It doesn’t help that you lean in, arching your back into his and pressing your plump ass against his crotch. Jack has visited you enough, spent his nights in this bed enough that your body comes to expect him- craves him. He can see it, can sense it in the way you breathe just a little slower when you feel his weight.

The clown knows you need him, maybe even more than he needs you- but he wants to make it a little easier, a little more enjoyable.

It’s always the same dream, always the same release he wants to give you. Your head feels so heavy, unconsciousness lingering deep in your brain as foggy images circle. The clown manipulates your dream, phantom feelings of warmth around your limp cock or a warm tongue running up your skin. He’d show you anything you wanted, anything that made your hips jerk and press back against him.

“Wanna make you feel so good, love…” He hums, the feathers from his collar tickling your skin as Jack buries his face into your neck. Pressing open-mouth kisses against your neck, he slides a claw up your shirt, palming at your warm skin underneath.

Pinching his claws against your skin, you huff, gasping at the sensitivity. Jack groans, breathing in your sweet scent as he rides your shirt up, pinching at your nipples. You’re so much smaller than him, fitting so perfectly.

Rutting his hips gently, Jack reaches to undo his suspenders, sliding the straps off of his shoulders. He’s so enveloped in your taste, your sweet skin warm under his eager tongue as he nips and bites at your neck. You’re gasping, the clown tugging your shirt up and over your head to get better access to your shoulder.

“So lovely… so warm…” Burying his face between your shoulder and the extensive amount of pillows you have swallowing you both, Jack can feel you stir, shifting against him. He flexes your dream, pressing more lovely feelings into the haziness of your mind and leaving you a softly moaning mess. Pressing his claw against your stomach, you settle back, pressing the roundness of your ass perfectly on his clothed cock. The clown huffs, minding his nose as he licks a stripe behind your ear, goosebumps freckling across your legs. It doesn’t go unnoticed the way your cock twitches instinctively beneath the thin fabric of your boxers, the clown smiling.

“Hard already? It’s alright… I know what you need…” He grins, the deep sigh you let out when his claw slips beneath the band of your boxers egging him on. Your thighs instinctively part, his large hand swallowing your wilting cock, pumping it so gently- just enough to make your hips jerk with the motion. He’s meticulous, dragging each pull with gentle, thorough movements. You grind back against him, completely oblivious but absolutely thriving in the stimulation he’s providing you.

“Good… Just like that…”

Jack wants to wake up you, needs to see your face as he provides you with every amazing feeling- but he knows it’s not time yet. The clown is keenly aware of how you never look for a relationship, never finding the need for a hookup, or any sexual release because he provides it for you every night. Your body doesn’t want for anything because everything is already given so graciously by him. Your body needs him, your mind needs him… So, he’s willing to stay under the cover of nightfall to happily provide.

Pushing your boxers past your plump ass, Jack is repositioning, tugging the covers further down as he slinks between your thighs. Rolling you onto your stomach, the clown helps you relax into the pillows, hugging one close to your chest as the glow from the television kisses your features. He smiles, pulling your boxers off of your ankles and tossing them to the side.

Cupping his arms under your hips, the clown lays on his stomach, his large figure nearly too big to fit on the bed, but he makes it work. You’re so encapsulating, back arching just enough to display your puckered hole, so pretty and mouthwatering. Jack brings himself close, his claws digging into the mounds of your ass and tugging them apart to give him better access. He’ll try to be gentle, adding a little more pressure to the dream he’s concocted in your head- just to make sure you don’t wake up.

Slipping his tongue from between his spiked teeth, the long muscle takes a long lap against your warmth. You gasp, exhaustion heavy on your body as you press back, knees digging into the soft covers. Your shirt is riding up your back, little marks and half-faded bruises from previous encounters placed meticulously so you wouldn’t be able to see them; they’re only for Jack to admire, in this position specifically.

Digging his nails into your flesh, he goes in again, his tongue forcefully bullying against the tight hole. You’re huffing into the pillow, rutting your hips back lazily the more he has to work. No matter how many times Jack works you open- fucks you open- you’re always so tight and he loves it. It takes some force, but finally the warm muscle slips in and he smiles at the long groan you let out. You taste so good, so warm, and tight around his tongue. Clasping his lips down, he presses in further, letting his eyes flutter shut as the clown gently eats you out.

He takes his time, soaking up every writhing and jerk of your hips, capturing you with every slide of his warm tongue against your insides. The muscle is long, reaching deeper and pushing pressure against your walls- you feel so full, unable to really press back far enough to reach that lovely spot inside. 

Jack can read your impatience, massaging your ass while his saliva builds against the tight ring, preparing you for him. Your wonton cries muffle into the pillow you’ve cradled against your chest, cheeks dark and puffy as you begin to pant. Jack follows, slowly fucking his tongue and stretching you open, spit dribbling down his chin. Jack knows you feel good, knows his tongue could never do the job his cock could- but he needs to make sure you feel your best. Always do your best.

“You’ve go’ it, ma’ love,” He grovels against your hot skin, letting his tongue slide out to lap against your puckered hole, flinching and ready. “Jus’ a lil’ more…”

Your tired whines grow, mumbling incoherently as Jack plunges back in, bullying his tongue back in. He should take more time, he should really make sure your plush walls can handle him- but you’re both ready. He can feel it, see it in the way your twitching cock dribbles pre onto your sheets messily. Jack isn’t much better, his cock nearly hurts under the constraints of his pants, length whining to be inside of you already.

He forces his tongue out, your hips following back at the loss of stimulation as you huff. Normally, you would’ve woken up, realizing the feelings weren’t just that of a hyper-realistic dream. But the clown is careful and precise with how he sways your consciousness, forcing you into a deeper slumber the more stirred you get. To you, it’s just a glorious wet dream. To him, it’s everything.

Pushing up onto his knees, Jack barely has time to unbutton his pants and drag his heavy cock out before you’re rutting your hips into the mattress, chasing an absent feeling. The clown smiles, running a hand through his tangled hair and pushing it out of his face before he slides back to your side.

Instinctively, you lean into him, back pressed against that familiar weight. Jack chokes out a gasp when your soaked ass glides back against his cock, hole fluttering against the warmth. Even in sleep, you beckon for him. 

“God. I’m going to make you feel so good.” With tender touches, Jack wraps himself back around you, wrapping his arm around the small of your waist to hold you closer. Reaching down, he grips his cock firmly, sliding the girth between your ass to collect his spit and stroke himself slowly.

Your jaw hangs, tiny gasps when his bulbous head presses against the tight ring of your hole and begins to press in. You’re tight, incredibly so, that Jack has to nudge his hips a little each time to finally pop his cockhead inside of your warmth. You’ll have to forgive just how much larger he is than you, his cock no exception.

“Mhnn… So tight, so warm… Does this feel good, my love?” You unknowingly answer with jagged breaths and loud gasps that have Jack smiling against your skin. He praises you with sweet kisses up your nape, whispering praises into your hair until you’re nearly shaking against his hot breath.

His cock ruts against your tightness, bullying its way further and further inside, the sloppiness echoing in the quietness of your dark room. The taste of your skin, the swell of his cock, every noise you let you- it just elevates every overwhelming feeling.

“It feels so good right…? I make you feel so, so good…” Jack moans into your ear, cupping a claw under your thigh to separate your legs and fuck himself deeper. He’s going as gently as he can, as easily as his hips will allow as you arch your back, beckoning to him. The clown latches his lips onto your shoulder, suckling obscene hickies that only he’ll get the pleasure of seeing, just out of your sight in the mirror. 

You’re gripping him so tight, gasping and moaning every time his cock brushes that sweet spot deep inside, your fingers digging into the pillow. When Jack attempts to speed up, to spill himself, you begin to squirm- you’re just so full, the pressure building. Pre dribbles from your heavy cock onto your sheets, your flushed face hot and sweaty as he sensually fucks you with deep, thorough thrusts, making sure he’s buried at the hilt. Jack wants you to feel all of him, no matter how much your body writhes and tries to get away- he knows you want it.

Unconsciously, you reach a hand back, clawing through Jack’s shaggy black strands. He nearly cums, heart swelling with pride as you purposefully accept him, call to him. His cock swells, ravaging your walls and forcing its way to the hilt, the clown straining not to take a welting bite out of your shoulder and wake you up. “God, so good… You’re doin’ so good, love.”

Your jaw hangs, lips parted to sweetly when Jack heartily fucks against your prostate, ramming his wilting cockhead against that nerve. Moans and shrilled gasps hang on every thrust, the clown clawing against your skin, pulling your knee back further so you feel every inch of him. Through heavy eyes, he watches your cock spill, each thrust pushing a stripe of cum onto your stomach as your body twitches and jerks from the overstimulation. “There you go… Finish for me… I know you needed it…”

He becomes dizzy, so cockdrunk on you that every inch he tugged out was a race to get it all back inside, back into your warmth, back to making you feel good. You just fit around him so perfectly, made for him. One day you would see him- he was becoming too restless just to have you at night…

“Give it to me just like that… Gonna give you what you want…” Jack swore, wrapping a claw around your chin and pulling your face back to his, forcing you into a kiss. You panted into his mouth, Jack forcing his tongue between your lips and tasting every inch of you. The clown let his eyes close, his thick cock heavy and begging to spill as he groaned and bit against your plump lips. Another accidental tug of his messy hair as the last of your orgasm washed over you and Jack was cumming, heaving as he thrusts his hips up once, twice-

Popping off of your mouth, the clown grits his teeth, a shrill groan as he comes deep into your warmth, filling you slowly. He claws into your skin, tugging at your thigh as he buries himself, riding out every wave that hits him, the pit in his stomach so heavy.

Afterward, Jack will take his time, breathing slowly as he pulls himself out and watches his cum dribble down the side of your leg. He cleans you, lapping his tongue across your stomach and into the glorious swell of your ass to taste himself mixed with you. Each kiss on your skin is followed by a whisper, a small compliment to leave you with. He takes his time, the gentle line of the morning sun just barely pressing into the sky. He knows you’ll be up soon, wondering why you feel so light and sore, your body riddled with relief you didn’t know you needed.

Jack will be there to watch you stir awake, face flushed with the thought of the crazy dream you had the night before, arms reaching behind to search for a body that isn’t there. He’ll admire you as you get ready for work again with a little more spring in your step than the day before, and wait patiently for you to return.

The clown prays for the day he can watch your handsome face smiling at him, truly call to him- but until then, he’ll wait.

He can’t have you during the day, but he’ll gladly take you every night.

Thanks for reading!

Comments and reblogs are appreciated! 𐚁₊⊹

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[mrsbuckybarnes1917]

Sass & Suspenders

Legal AU: Prosecutor!Bucky x Female!Doctor!Reader

You and Bucky are both professionals in a long term relationship, but you like to mix things up once in a while despite the humdrum of life.

Warnings: smut, 18+ only, minors please leave

Word Count: 2,953

A/N: Because I have a thing for men in suspenders and I've thought about this for far too long.

Bucky groaned. But not one iota of the deep articulation of the sound that escaped his lips was rooted in any form of pleasure. You shared the sentiment. Taxes - who ever enjoyed doing those?

"Do we have to?" he whined.

"You promised!" you admonished, knowing full well that if he persisted in his protests, you would succumb to his point of view. 

The pout you received in response was almost as good as his closing arguments. It was 9pm and you had both left your busy jobs to spend an evening together completing your tax returns. Your relationship had most certainly reached the pinnacle of excitement. 

Heaving a sigh of resignation, you nudged your boyfriend towards the study you shared. The two of you had been putting off the chore for several weeks and you had finally laid down the law to your handsome attorney.

"I'm tired."

"So am I, but it has to be done. Come on."

Despite the fact that your crazy careers that kept you busy until ridiculous hours, the two of you found a way to do something together, even if it was only sleeping. Early in your relationship, there had been a number of rescheduled or incomplete dates, but the offending party would make it up to the other with their favorite cupcake the following day. In all honesty you were surprised that you hadn't gained a tonne of weight because of the quantity of cake you had consumed.

It wasn't long before you knew that Bucky was the one for you and you apprehensively admitted your feelings to him. To your immense relief, he reciprocated those feelings and in no time at all you'd moved in together and were filling out tax returns like an old married couple. It was incredible how well you synced with each other, in spite of your differences. A difference that was evident on this auspicious evening.

When carrying out a task that needed concentration and an arduous undertaking, you liked to be comfortable, meaning you immediately changed into one of your chemise nightgowns. Bucky on the other hand felt the only way to concentrate was to roll up his shirt sleeves and dig in in full professional garb. He often said that staying in ‘character’ helped him focus.

Neither of you objected particularly to the other's choices, particularly when Bucky was wearing suspenders with his suits. You would never dare admit it, but you had developed an overwhelming fondness for seeing your sweetheart in suspenders. One might even describe it as a kink.

Before meeting Bucky, you had never met anyone under the age of 70 wearing suspenders. You considered it to be a quirk of many of your elderly patients. But for some reason, Bucky made it look like the height of fashion. Many a time you found yourself wondering what it would be like to grab a hold of the elasticated straps and pull him into your arms. Today happened to be one of those many distracting occasions that left you dazed and very much aroused. It was several moments before you acknowledged the fact that Bucky was leaning across the table in an attempt to meet your gaze.

"Hey there, doll," he gave you that lopsided grin that drove you nuts. "What happened to 'we must focus' and 'get this done tonight'?"

The flush on your face deepened. 

"What's going on in that brain of yours? You're kinda quiet."

You bit your lip, treating him to a coy smile. "I just have other things on my mind."

"Care to elaborate?"

"Just admiring how handsome my boyfriend looks."

"You looked like you were looking straight through me, not at me."

"Bucky, let's get back to this paperwork."

"No."

"No?"

"I want you to tell me what you were thinking about." His tone was low and commanding. Almost as though he already knew the dirty thoughts that had crossed your mind. 

You felt your pulse quicken. "May I plead the fifth, counselor?"

"No, doll. You're under my jurisdiction now. You're under oath to speak the truth."

"The whole truth?"

"Nothing but the truth."

"So help me God?"

"I'll be the only one here that can help you. Now tell me what you were thinking."

"How about I show you?" Rising from your chair, you sauntered over to Bucky's side of the large oak desk.

Sliding into his lap, you ran your fingers along the elastic straps of his suspenders, tracing the small grooves and indentations of the springy material.

"See something you like, doll?"

The groan that escaped your lips was nothing short of sinful. You wrapped one strap in each of your empty fists and tugged at them forcefully, pulling Bucky towards you until his mouth was barely an inch from yours. All words were forgotten on your part.

"Tell me what you want," he demanded, his voice so low you could barely make out his words through the carnal desire in his voice.

His lips were so close, you could practically taste a whiff of that last cup of coffee he had swallowed before leaving work. You watched the steely blue of his eyes shrink as his pupils expanded with arousal. Bucky's hands settled on either side of your face, his skin was on fire, or maybe it was yours, it was impossible to tell.

His lips brushed against yours lightly, so soft and it sent shivers through your nerves, shivers that made your whole body tremble. “If you want me to stop, tell me now,” he whispered. When you said nothing, he pressed his lips on yours a little harder, leaving a slightly sloppy kiss on your mouth. “How about now?” he asked. He traced a solitary finger along the line of your cheekbone. “Or now-”

The rest of his words were lost against your mouth. He kissed you gently, carefully, but it wasn’t gentleness you wanted, not now, not when it had been so long, and you knotted your fists tighter around his suspenders, pulling him harder against you. He groaned softly, low in his throat, and his arms circled you, gathering you against him.

All you wanted was Bucky, you wanted to feel him, all of him, pressing into you. You inhaled, breathing in his shaving cream, his cologne, that extra scent that was just...Bucky. The aroma was intoxicating and you were dizzy with desire to take him in. Parting your lips, you invited him. His tongue deftly entered your mouth, forcefully searching every possible crevice, teasing, tantalizing, tasting your unique flavor.

His hands slipped under the hem of your chemise, gently gliding his long digits across your sensitive abdomen, before moving them to your bountiful breasts, enjoying the way you whimpered and writhed every time he flicked one of your perky nipples. The electrifying sensations traveled through your body culminating in your arousal pooling in the meager piece of material covering your leaking lips. Before you had time to object, Bucky’s hands were splayed across the inside of your thigh, fingers creeping ever closer to your clothed clit.

"Mmm, objection," you hummed into his mouth.

Bucky unlocked his lips from yours, surprise and disappointment evident on his face. "Ok, I know, we have to get this done," he took his hand off your thigh and waved at the paperwork on the desk.

"Eager much?" your smirk insinuating at your meaning. You laughed and snapped one of his suspenders lightly. With the other hand, you swept your fingers over the bulge in his pants. "I have a counter argument."

"Oh?"

"Let me show you." Seductively, you slipped off his lap and knelt down between his legs. Looking up at his face, you watched the look of comprehension spread across his handsome features.

"Are you sure?" he asked, somewhat apprehensively. 

"Certain." The bulge seemed to be growing before your very eyes, straining at the seams of his pricey pants. "I've missed how you taste."

Bucky sucked in a breath in anticipation of your actions, eyes wide as you unzipped his pants and freed his hardening cock. Gently, you trailed your fingers up and down his shaft. "It's your turn to tell me what you want me to do to you."

"You know what I like, doll."

That you did. "I want to run my tongue over every inch of you." Lowering your head, you took him into your mouth, warm and soft, you took a moment to savor his taste. You hummed with appreciation, your tongue flickered and danced around the tip and instantly you felt him swelling and growing hard for you, his cock filling your mouth with every lick. 

You pulled back slightly as the head of his cock started to push against the back of your throat. "Tell me how good it feels. I want to hear you say it."

He groaned. The sound excited you, his body was coming alive for your mouth. You reached up to his chest, slipping your hand under the suspender strap and pushed down on his nipple.

"Oh doll, nobody has ever fucked me like you do," he cried as you worked your tongue over his frenulum. Bucky responded just as you wanted, the taste of pre-cum seeped into your mouth. He arched his back, eyes rolling backwards with pleasure.

Your free hand curled around his now rock hard member, with a loose grip, you gently moved your hand up and down encouraging the flow of more pre-cum from his tip to lubricate your actions and elicit the most ungodly moans from your boyfriend.

Hearing Bucky groaning so obscenely sent a tingle through your clit. After a pause, you tilted your head to take him further into your mouth, bobbing up and down with ease. His fingers mingled with your luscious locks as he guided your head gently as he tried not to trust too deeply into your throat. Bucky knew you often struggled to take him in completely and that he had to take care to not get too carried away in his bliss. 

It wasn't until he started cursing quietly under his breath in a way that made you come undone. You removed your mouth from his cock, "Buck, I can’t wait any longer… please I need you to fuck me."

"Doll, I'm going to fuck you so hard you won't be able to walk tomorrow." He stood suddenly and pulled you to your feet effortlessly.

"Buck-" you whined. "Please, I need you. Touch me."

"Turn around."

You obeyed. His erection pressed against you was more than you could bear.

"Buck, fuck me like you mean it."

"I always mean it," he growled into your ear. He pushed you forward onto the desk, forcing you onto your elbows. Your chemise rose up as you bent over the thick table, exposing your ass. His cock rested comfortably between your thighs, eagerly twitching, ready for action. Your dripping wet pussy literally begged for it.

Bucky tugged at the strip of material that was the only thing keeping him from entering you. "Is this ok?"

"Oh God, yes," you exclaimed. At any other time, you may have been ashamed of your wanton cries, but right now you couldn't care less. All you wanted was to feel Bucky pushing into you, filling you up, making you pulse with pleasure around him in that way that no one else could compare.

"Not God, just me," he smirked.

At what felt like an excruciating slow pace, Bucky stroked your slit with his tip, collecting the succulent elixir that you had made, just for him. As he touched your clit, you shuddered deeply and gasped. You closed your eyes and focused on the ecstatic sensations that shot through your body as your opening stretched in receipt of his cock.

It was a good thing you were half sprawled across the sturdy table because your legs felt like jelly and would give way at any moment. As if Bucky could hear your thoughts, he curled his fingers around your hips, the tips pressed into your flesh salaciously.

"Oh Buck! I want you all the way inside me, give me all of you."

"Is that what you like, doll?"

"Yes, you know that’s what I like."

"I hope you're ready for this, because I know I am," Bucky purred.

He certainly was. He didn't hesitate in plunging himself further into you like sheathing a sword to its hilt. The force made you gasp with pain and surprise and the grimace on your face didn't go unnoticed. Bucky bent forwards, his abdomen pressed against your back and asked, "too much?"

"Tad too fast," you answered. "I may have been a little too hasty about what I asked for."

His new position had relieved some of the pressure and you felt a lot more comfortable and ready for him to try again. Bucky's breath was hot on your back and the wave of pain was now ebbing away, replaced by your impatient longing.

"Let's try something different, shall we?"

His fingers crept around you until he found your clit. Bucky encouraged you to spread your legs by nudging your knees apart. Slowly, his digits struck up a steady pace rhythm of slow movements, starting below and dragging up again and again, until your the bundle of nerves was flushed and firm under his fingers and your juices started leaking out around him. Not until your hips start undulating did Bucky try pushing back inside you. You had to admire his self control as he made you unravel with the smallest flick of his finger.

"Buck-"

"Doll?"

"If you keep fingering me like that, this is going to be over before you get the chance to have any fun."

"Watching you cum is extremely fun for me."

"You feel so delicious inside me, but I need you to fuck me with your cock."

Bucky was only too happy to oblige. Proceeding with caution, he pushed slowly until he was fully inside you. A burning sensation radiated through you as you stretched to let him in.

"How does that feel?" he asked slightly apprehensively.

"Exquisite!" you sighed. 

You shifted to make yourself comfortable before Bucky pulled out slowly, leaving you feeling empty inside. But you didn't have to wait long before he was thrusting back half inside you, making you gasp and moan. It was almost too much for Bucky, he was already struggling to control himself but he held back, wanting to give you as much pleasure as possible for as long as possible. In and out, he moved further with each thrust until he was sliding all the way into you, hands roaming over your exposed back.

“Bucky. Buck...” you murmured.

“Doll, a little louder for those of us in the back.”

“Does it turn you on?” you smiled.

“You’ll be screaming my name by the end of the night.” He rutted against you sharply in an unexpected rhythm. 

“Haha, you’re going to have to do better than tha-ahh,” you struggled to complete your answer as he slipped one hand between your 

thighs.

"Come on," he coaxed you by edging his fingers up your leg.

"Make me cum, counselor."

"On one condition."

"Name. It."

"You know what I want doll. Let me give you a taste of what you want." Devilishly, your boyfriend slipped his hand between your folds and gave your throbbing clit a few small flicks.

"Buck-uhhhh."

"That's right doll, just a little more," he grunted, starting to come undone himself. "Oh fuck, just a little more."

"Just a little more, Bucky!"

You pushed down against the hand he had clamped over your clit as he pounded against you mercilessly, all speech forgotten. Both of you panted and pumped away each chasing your release. There is was, that all too familiar knot at the bottom of your stomach. It spread through you like lightening, permeating every fiber of your being. "Bucky, oh Bucky, I'm-" you cried out.

Your walls fluttered around him pushing him to the brink of ecstasy. His thrusts became more and more erratic as you tightened around him.  Your whole body shook with pleasure. "Bucky!"

The sound of you screaming his name in euphoria was what made him pulse inside you. Arching his back, Bucky spilled his hot milky load while chanting your name under his breath. 

Neither of you moved for the longest time, you sprawled across the table with Bucky bent over your limp form.

"Buck," you finally worked up the energy to speak. 

"Mmmm?"

"I wish you could be inside me forever."

"Wouldn't that be nice," he smirked at the very thought.

For a few more moments, neither of you moved. 

"Buck?"

"Mmmm?"

"I think my arm fell asleep."

You could feel the rumble of his laughter flow into you. He slowly extricated himself from you, now you were only connected by the thin trail of his creamy elixir.

Bucky gripped your waist as you clumsily lowered yourself off the desk. "Looks like we made a mess of this." He waved his hand at the scattered receipts that were now strewn all over the table top.

"Next time don't wear suspenders if you want to avoid interruptions," you admonished him playfully while pulling your chemise back down to a comfortable position.

"Seriously, that's what turns you on?" Bucky wiped himself off and tucked himself back into his pants.

"They make you look distinguished!" You sighed and wrapped your hands around the offending article of clothing.

"So how would you feel if I put on some plaid pajamas?" Bucky raised an eyebrow.

"I don't think you should hold me responsible for what happens to you." Smiling, you pulled at the straps and led your bemused boyfriend to bed.

[all-gummed-up-inside]

i just saw u updated ur fandom list!!

could i plz request hc's for Jax from TADC? i think he would look so pretty while forced into submission and begging to be dicked down 😋

(Curse all of you! All of those who write DOM!TADC characters only!) <more of me just rambling my smut HCs about this prick then anything coherent <\3 sorry if it’s not super long/anything of substance>

Bastard definitely, 1 doesn’t have a gag reflex, and 2 would be the biggest tease the -digital- world has ever seen. From letting his suspender straps fall down his shoulders just a little bit too far, to pulling ANY Jessica rabbit esq pose he can think of, absolutely NOTHING is off the table for Mr Jaxington (-or maybe it’s Jaxwell-)

In full support of Jax (or any of them) being able to do certain things with their bodies if it falls under the rule of funny, case in point, Jax being able to open his mouth fully with no teeth. The piece of shit would totally make you work for it, but it’s completely worth it with how eagerly he’s willing to take dick. Willing -wanting- to spend hours sucking you off or cock warming you until you finally start face fucking him

Jax wants you to work for it at first, constantly putting up a fight just to see how far you’re willing to go with it, pull his ears! Slap and hit him! He wants it all as long as you dick him down and breed him by the end of it!

I HCs that he normally has very, VERY sensitive ears, especially the higher up you go on them and it’s one of the quickest ways to get him worked up and start doing little rabbit licks <3 (but only in private!)

[therhythmafterthesummer]

Wereroomies werewolf!chan reaction to his girl in a rabbit costume? I know that man will go insane

this ask wormed its way into my brain and made me write a drabble in record time. sorry if anything's worded weirdly, i was literally possessed while i wrote this whole thing.

Pairing: Werewolf!Chan x Human!F.Reader (one of the main pairings of my WereRoomies series). | Word Count: ~1k. | Warnings: Chris’ POV · curvy/chubby reader · primal play (can it be considered primal play when one of the parties involved is an animal already?) · breeding · unprotected penetration [piv. no barrier method, but the reader is presumed to be on birth control].

minors do not interact.

It was rare for Chris to take you to his house in the woods on your own. Typically, the entire pack would come for their monthly run, but every once in a while he needed to come check on the place to make sure everything was in order–the amount of times he’d woken up in a cold sweat in the middle of the night with the sudden thought that he didn’t turn off the lights before leaving during their last trip were too many to count at this point.

This weekend, Chris decided to take you out on a little escapade, just the two of you in his big house. You both had been working nonstop the last couple of weeks, between that and pack duties you’d hardly had any time for yourselves as a couple, so he was more than needing his alone time with you, to disconnect from everything and everyone else.

So here he was, doing the final checks on the house to make sure everything was fine before he could finally join you wherever you were in the house to lounge around and snuggle and hopefully have some delightful sex later in the evening.

“Baby, have you seen the–the…”

Walking into the living room, and seeing you all of a sudden like that, sitting on the dining table of all places, was something Chris did not expect. His mind short-circuited immediately, and the fact that you had the nerve to gasp and act surprised as soon as you spotted him wasn’t making it any better.

“Oh, my… Seems like I’ve found myself in the wolf’s lair. What am I gonna do now…” You brought your hands to your cheeks, which only squished your breasts further together, all garnished with the fakest look of concern he’d ever seen on your face.

That bra was barely even a bra, it was just a couple of pieces of fabric tied around your neck by thin straps, it did absolutely nothing to keep your breasts contained. It was white, too, practically transparent. The bottoms weren’t much better, also a barely even there piece of fabric that did incredibly poorly at covering your plump centre. But the worst pieces of all were the white and pink suspender belt, with the matching stockings over your mouth-watering thighs, and the goddamned bunny ears on your head.

Something stirred deep inside of Chris, something just so incredibly dangerous, something he just knew was exactly what you wanted to awake with this entire set-up of yours.

Prey, prey, prey, prey, prey…

What kind of boyfriend would he be if he denied you of your fun? So of course he played along. 

“Aww, poor little bunny got lost?” Chris cooed, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning on the door frame, staring you up and down.

You bit your lip, nodding. “You’re not gonna do anything bad to me, right?”

Chris took a deep breath, and he got almost winded by the scent of your arousal lingering in the air. “Well… That depends, pretty bunny…”

“On?”

A smirk made its way onto his face, and Chris could already feel himself straining in his briefs. “On how fast you can run away from me”.

You bit your lip and whimpered, looking almost scared. 

There was a moment of you staring at him, and Chris staring at you… A moment of silence that fed the tension in the air. In an instant, you were getting off of that table and bolting out of the room, letting him see the fluffy tail attached to your bottoms, and he could feel the fine hairs on his nape stand on end.

Chase, chase, chase, chase, chase…

Chris immediately ripped his t-shirt off of his body and chased after you. He was suddenly feeling incredibly warm, and he could feel his instincts further clouding his reason as he looked at your form trying to get out of his reach.

He let you off easy for a few minutes, revelling in the deep breaths you took, in the way your heart was racing inside your chest, and in the smell of your scent taking a hold of every single one of his nerve-endings. Until he just couldn’t take it anymore, he needed to catch you, to show you your place and make you submit.

After a while of running and hiding around the house, Chris finally caught up to you on the upper floor, right after climbing the stairs–his shorts had been discarded at some point during the chase, he didn’t even notice when he’d removed them, and he, honestly, also didn’t care.

With a tight hold on your waist he pushed you against the nearest wall. He would’ve felt bad by hearing the whimper that came out of your mouth as soon as your back hit the wall, but, at this point, he knew your limits, he knew how to read your body language, he knew the exact word you would use if it all became too much for you, and, especially, he knew when you were putting on an act. 

With a hand cradling the back of your head, he tilted it to the side, making himself more room to shove his face in the crook of your neck, to prod at your pulse point with the tip of his nose and get a proper whiff of that scent of yours that made him delirious, especially now with how horny you smelt, with his senses enhanced by the chase.

“What now, bunny?” Chris mumbled. He licked a stripe up the expanse of your neck, relishing the taste of your skin under his tongue, and he felt you shiver with the motion.

You swallowed, taking a deep breath. “What are you gonna do to me? I’m just a poor, innocent bunny that got lost…”

“Are you, now?” Chris brought his free hand to the ears on your head, feeling the soft fur between his fingers for a moment, only to finally move that hand to your side so he could drag it all the way from your ribs down to your hips, relishing the goosebumps that rose under his touch. “And what was a pretty bunny like you looking for so insistently you ended up lost in my lair?”

“A partner”, you replied simply, although your voice got a bit shaky when he started to toy with the string that tied your underwear in place. “I just…need to be bred so badly”.

Chris could’ve fainted with how fast blood rushed from his head to his crotch.

“Oh, sweet, sweet, bunny”, he dragged his teeth down the length of your neck, until he finally found a spot to suck the first of many love bites he was ready to leave on your skin. “I can give you exactly what you want… I’ll pump you so full, pretty. Just how you need”.

“You will?” You reached for his hips, and the warmth of your hands on his bare skin was further feeding that pool of desire in the pit of his stomach. “Is the big, alpha wolf going to put his pups inside me?”

God, he might’ve been the predator, but you certainly always had the upper hand, and Chris knew you were aware of it. You always knew what to say to get him to react, to get exactly what you wanted, and he was ready to fall for it every single time.

Chris leaned in closer, close enough he could feel your lips brush against his own when he spoke. “Only if you ask nicely”.

You moved your hands from his hips to his ass, squeezing generously. “Please… Please, I need your pups so bad. Please, breed me, alph–”

A squeal left your lips when Chris took a hold of your hips and turned you around all of a sudden. He just couldn’t take it anymore, not after all that had transpired since he spotted you on that table downstairs.

With a hand on your upper back, he pressed your chest further into the wall as you pushed your hips back towards him, giving him the delicious sight of your round bottom in that barely there piece of underwear with the fluffy tail, and the way your soft flesh dipped under the taut straps of your suspender belt that held the stockings on your legs almost made him dizzy.

Chris spat on his free hand and smeared the saliva all over his length. Pulling your underwear to the side, he got a perfect view of your soaked folds. Clearly, all the running around had been a good warm up for you, too, and he was almost trembling in anticipation.

In normal circumstances, he would’ve probably stretched you out first, even loosen you up with his mouth and his tongue. But these were no normal circumstances. He could barely think straight at this point, all he knew for sure was that he needed to be inside of you and give you the pounding of your life.

Breed, breed, breed, breed, breed…

You whined once he started to push his cock inside you. The feeling of your warm, wet, tight walls stretching over his length had him rolling his eyes to the back of his head. He might’ve worried he was hurting you, but he knew by now that when you reached back for his hip like you were doing now, almost like you were urging him to ram himself into you already, it meant you were doing just fine, so there wasn’t a single spark of worry in his hazy mind just yet.

As soon as he was fully sheathed within your warmth, he nuzzled your neck, holding the soft skin of your hips tightly in his hands. “Don’t worry, pretty bunny. I’ll give you what you need. All of it”.

© therhythmafterthesummer 2023. all rights reserved. do not repost or translate my stories.

figured i’d tag anyone that wants to be tagged in my wereroomies instalments. if you don’t want to be tagged in little ask responses like these let me know !

@raspbinniecreme · @staaa96 · @oiminho · @straylightdream · @starshine-moon · @biribarabiribbaem · @100layersofdaddyissues · @dearalice · @alexis-reads-fics · @xcookiemonsteer · @knowleeknow · @chanlovesme · @liminaldaydream · @sstarryreads · @svngiem · @notastraykid · @princelingperfect · @violetpenguinkris · @leedunno · @peepeepoopooharrie · @aestheticsluut · @skzhomiehopper · @cessixja · @mimzibee · @hipsdofangirl · @djeniryuu · @floatingcoffecup · @minnysproutgriffinteddy · @moonmooncr · @phobia0325 · @leebitsimpracha

[vminizzle]

Office break

pairing : husband ceo!jungkook x f.reader

genre : smut, fluff

warnings : making out, marking, praising, slight dry humping, manhandling?, teasing, lingerie kink, pet names, penetration, unprotected sex, creampie

words count : 3.1k

A/N : hey hey, finally, I’m done with this. I took so much time on writing sorry, I’ve been tired these days. I don’t know why it took me so much time, I mean I was struggling a bit. But anyways, it’s finished. I want to precise that, this fic, is part of the series "hope" so yup. REMINDER : POOR ENGLISH. Thank you guys for reading. Love y’all, take care of yourself. - sunny :)

HEAVILY UNEDITED ( I was exhausted sorry )

FEEDBACKS ARE WELCOMED 🕷️

M RATED

You entered the company with a little box in your hands as you walked to the elevator.

"good morning Mrs. Jeon." you heard someone said.

"oh good morning Mr. Choi." you greeted with a little smile.

"Mr. Jeon is in his office, if you’re searching for him. The meeting just ended, so good timing." Soobinsmiled politely making you nod.

"Thank you for telling me."

"You’re welcome, Mrs. Jeon. Have a nice day."

"Have a nice day Mr. Choi."

You knocked on the office’s door, hearing the deep "come in."

You pushed the door open, entering the office before closing it again, the sound of your heels echoing through the room.

"You can leave the files and usb key on the little table there." Jungkook pointed to the small table near the little couch, without caring to look who it was.

"Sorry Mr. Jeon, I don’t have the files nor the usb key." you said playfully, making your husband look up instantly from the computer’s screen.

"Mrs. Jeon?" he smirked getting up from his desk chair, approaching you.

"what are you doing here, pretty woman?" he asked, pecking your lips happily.

"Just wanted to deliver this, for my favorite ceo."

You handed him the little box with the name of the company’s cafeteria where Jimin works.

"You bought banana cake?" his eyes sparkled as you nodded.

"aw thank you my love!" he hugged you.

"did you eat lunch?" you asked eyeing him attentively.

"yes, don’t worry. I ate noodles."

"How was your lunch with Jimin?" he asked putting the little box on his desk, guiding you  at the other side of it.

"Good! Like usual." he smiled acknowledging your words.

"I’m happy you came." he said, sitting down on his desk chair pulling you down with him as he made you sit on his lap, your back against his chest.

"Is that so?"

"Of course! I love it when you come see me at the company."

"I missed you." a little pout decorated your lips.

"I told you to work with me! If you worked here, you wouldn’t miss me." he said playfully.

"ah shut up." you laughed.

"But, I missed you too." he hummed, leaving a soft kiss on your shoulder.

You caressed his cheek gently as you turn on your side, making him close his eyes, enjoying the feeling of your warm hand against his skin calming him down.

His large hand went down to rest on your thigh, caressing the covered skin slowly.

"it’s been awhile since you wore stockings."

he looked down at your legs, hand sliding higher under your skirt, fingers reaching the suspenders.

"Still like them?" you raised an eyebrow teasingly.

"love them." he whispered, breath fanning over your neck making goosebumps raised on the smooth skin.

"I remember asking you to wear them whenever you sneaked over at my dorm, when we were in college." he let a breathy laugh escaped from his mouth, making you laugh too.

"oh yea I remember too. You’ve always been horny for a little nothing." you joked playing with the collar of his shirt.

"nope! only for you." he snickered, his fingers playing with the elastic strap holding the stocking in place.

A confortable silence took place, as you watched his hand playing under your skirt.

"what were you working on?" you asked eyes travelling to his messy desk.

"ah i was finishing these papers. It’s for next week’s meeting for the deal we’ve been working on for a whole month." he groaned tiredly.

"oh did I disturbed you? I just meant to give you the cake and go home, you know. I’m s-"

"hey, what are you talking about? no baby. You didn’t disturb me at all. I needed a break anyway hm. I was getting way too frustrated, thank you for coming. You calmed me down." he smiled softly, hand resting on your waist as you smiled too.

"can I read them?" you asked curiously.

Jungkook always loved the way you were always interested in his work. You were so supportive, it made him feel touched. He always enjoyed working with you, he’s still disappointed that you don’t work at his company with him.

"go ahead."

Your hands went to grab on the dossier, your eyes wandering over the many papers he already worked on.

Jungkook was way too distracted to notice the way you nodded, agreeing with his notes, praising his work.

His eyes stayed on your covered legs, the fine silk complimenting your body so well.

And the way your skirt kept on raising up your thighs as you sat yourself more confortable on his lap.

He could only cursed internally, when he accidentally peeked inside your white buttoned shirt.

The beautiful black lacy bra cupping your chest so nicely, made him bite on his bottom lip, gulping hard as he wondered if you were wearing a lingerie set.

"I think you should switch these two paragraphs." you suggested still reading the document.

"and-" you continued blabbing, Jungkook was too lost to care about what you were talking about.

"but overall, you did amazing like always!" you smiled proudly as you turned on the side to face him again.

"babe, are you okay?" you tilted your head to the side, looking at your frozen husband.

"oh yes, sorry. I’m fine." he forced a smile as you shifted on his lap making him hiss.

"oh my- did I hurt you?" you moved again making Jungkook still your hips.

"stop moving.. please." he said lowly, perhaps slightly in pain? 

You looked at him confused, as he lowered his head…

Until you felt it.

"ah.."

"yea, sorry I didn’t mean to get.. you know. to get hard."

"no no it’s ok. I’m sorry, It’s probably my fault."

"no no darling, don’t apologize." he said, still holding you in place.

"I couldn’t control it." he sighed heavily.

"Well, you know what? Yes! Yes it’s your fault!" he suddenly said loudly after a few seconds, making you turn around offended.

"what?!" you stared at him in disbelief.

"you came here to seduce me, didn’t you?" he bit on his bottom lip trying not to laugh.

"Jungkook, stop!" you slapped his chest laughing.

"no because you’re really sexy today." he let his head drop on your shoulder feeling defeated.

"you’re really making it hard for me princess." he whined.

"Why are you so attractive? I don’t want my employees seeing me walking around with a boner."

"a big raging one." you added making Jungkook shook his head in disbelief at how you’re not taking the situation seriously.

He stared at you for awhile, pursing his lips while thinking.

"Jeon, what are you on now?" you put your arms around his neck pulling him close, a smirk plastered on your lips.

"solve the problem you’ve created, Mrs. Jeon." he stared at you with dark eyes.

Your breath hitched, his hands on your hips pushing you down on him, the feeling of his confined erection pressing down there made you feel dizzy already.

You stood up, kicking your shoes off, before straddling his muscular thighs, your legs dangling at each of his sides.

"how do you want me to solve it?" you asked, eyes staring deeply into his as you tugged on his tie.

"find a solution now baby. you’re smart, aren’t you?"

Jungkook looked at you with hooded eyes, his hands resting on your thighs.

Your eyes fell on his parted lips. He looked so good right now.

You cupped his cheek, bending down to capture his lips in a slow kiss. Your fingers sliding down his neck to his shirt, as you started playing with the buttons, unbuttoning one by one slowly.

Jungkook let a breathy moan out when your lips travelled down to his neck, sucking on the smooth skin, tongue grazing over the little reddish mark you’ve left.

You hips moving slowly, as you grind on him, pressing yourself more on his boner.

"I love when you wear ties." you whispered against his throat, as you slightly pull on the black tie.

"you’re such a tease, you know that?" he sighed, when your fingers went to ghost over this belt.

Jungkook’s started unbuttoning your blouse when the door suddenly swam open.

"Mr. Jeon, I can’t find the keys of the meeting room. I forgot my new purple pen in there-"

You turned on your side quickly, hiding your half-opened shirt, Jungkook holding you against his chest to cover you more as he glared at the young boy angrily.

"what the hell is wrong with you?! Didn’t I already told you to knock on the door before coming in!?" Jungkook said loudly irritated.

"I’m so sorry, Sir. I didn’t know you, hm, you were.. I mean.. good afternoon Mrs. Jeon." the panicked boy bowed quickly.

"Good afternoon, Yeonjun." you greeted back, not looking at him.

"Sorry for disturbing, I’ll leave now!" he bowed down again, rushing out the office making Jungkook groaned loudly, closing his eyes in frustration.

"god this boy!"

"It’s not the first time?" you asked curiously.

"Unfortunately, no. I mean, if the reason was important, I wouldn’t mind but he comes for every little random things. Last time he came just to tell me that someone stole his lunch.. I’m not even concerned! why did he tell me?! Soobin needs to educate his friend." Jungkook spilled out exasperate.

"It’s fine. he’ll learn." you pecked his lips quickly making him sigh.

Jungkook stood up, making you wrapped your legs around his thin waist, his hand placed under your thigh as he sat you on the edge of his desk.

"wait." he walked away making you looked at him confused as he went to the door, locking it.

"now, no one’s gonna disturb us." he smirked coming back to you making you shook your head, a shy smile decorating your lips.

Jungkook spread your legs more, making room for him to stand between them.

"did I already tell you that you’re really pretty today?" he bit his lip making you roll your eyes.

"shut up idiot."

Jungkook chuckled, putting his finger under your chin, lifting your face to look at him.

He kissed you, the kiss slow and sensual just enough to make your core tingle as his hands came back on the buttons of your blouse, unbuttoning it rapidly as he slid the sleeves down your arms.

"Jungkook." you moaned as you felt his fingers caressing their ways between your legs.

His fingertips grazed over your lightly covered clit, the lacy material of your panties made your husband cursed lowly.

"fuck, you sure you didn’t come here to seduce me?" he whined, resting his forehead on yours.

Your hands flew to his belt unbuckling it eagerly as he unbuttoned the last buttons left of his shirt.

"no." you grabbed his wrists as he started loosening his tie.

"keep it please."

"as you wish, princess." 

Jungkook pulled on the hem of your skirt, making you raised your hips a bit so he could slid it down your legs.

"damn." he dropped on his knees feeling weak, eyes wandering on your lingerie clamped body.

"you’re so ethereal." his hand went on your calve.

"Koo stop." you complained shyly.

"no because I could look at you all day." he said lust lacing in his voice.

You looked down at him, taking a hold on his tie as you pull him up with it.

"I need you Jungkook." you whispered desperate.

He didn’t say anything as he pushed his pants and boxer down at once hurriedly.

"I want you to keep your lingerie on, darling please."

His fingertips danced over the lacy material of your bra, watching as your chest moved up and down in excitation.

He bent forward, sucking on your skin slowly. His tongue caressing your breast, the wet muscle coming in contact with your skin made you moan softly. 

Two of his fingers pulling your panties at the side, sliding the long digits between your glistening lips making you whimper.

One of your leg snaked behind his lower back pulling him closer.

Your husband got the hint as he grabbed on his hard cock, teasing your entrance the tip as he slid it between your folds.

Soft moans escaped from both your lips when you felt his cock eased inside you, filling you right to the hilt.

"you good my love?"

"so good." you breathed out as he started thrusting in and out painfully slow.

His hips moving sensually, gentle yet steady. 

He peppered kisses on your neck making your fingers tug on his long black hair tightly. The well-styled hair now a mess.

He grabbed one of your thigh positioning it higher on his waist to get better access, making you arch your back. The sensation of him getting deeper made you let a sob as he hit on that spot that could make you see stars.

"Jungkook fuck faster." you moaned, furrowing your eyebrows, your hands holding on his shoulders.

A loud purely lustful groan emitted from Jungkook as he felt you tighten around him.

"ah fuck!" he let his head dropped on your shoulder.

He started picking up the pace making you cried out, closing your eyes tightly, your nails buried deep into the flesh of his back forming little crescents.

"you feel so fucking good!" he moaned against your neck, one hand travelling up to cup your breast, his thumb running over the lacy material.

"am I making you feel good, princess?" he asked between breath, lust fogging his mind as he looked at your ruined state.

"so fucking good! yes!" you sobbed when he bite on your earlobe gently.

His pretty lips melded against yours, you scratched his back making him moan into the kiss.

"shit!" he cursed the burning feeling of your nails marking down his back made him feel dizzy.

You lifted your other leg on his side, the silk fabric of your stockings grazing his bare skin.

The sensation made him twitch inside you.

"you love them that much, huh?" you teased breathlessly making him nod, earning a low whine from his mouth.

His eyes wandered down your beautiful body, when you grabbed on his tie pulling him on you again to capture his lips in a heated kiss.

His mouth cascaded down your neck, leaving wet little kisses on his path.

"I’m so close." you bit on your bottom lip when you felt his teeth sink into the flesh of your neck, nipping on it before licking the marked skin. 

"me too." you groaned, feeling your walls convulsed around him tightly.

Your legs started trembling around his waist, tears forming in your eyes.

Your fingers flew to his hair, entangling the black locks to pull on them making your husband moaned.

You gasped quietly surprised when you heard a knock on the door, Jungkook let his head fall on your shoulder.

"Mr. Jeon, it’s me Soobin. I came to tell you about next week’s meeting. I finished working on the files Mr. Hwang sent to us-"

Jungkook groaned annoyed as he kept on trusting his hips into yours harder, your hand coming to your mouth to block any sound daring to pass by your lips.

"Koo." you whimpered softly looking deep into his eyes, heart beating fast as you felt your climax getting really close.

"cum princess." he whispered, grabbing you by the back of you neck as he pulled you to his chest.

You bit on his shoulder blade, stars formed in your blurry vision, body on fire as you let your orgasm washed over you, your moans muffled.

"where do you want me to come my love?" he groaned lowly, his surroundings inexistant as he concentrated on you.

The sensation of your lacy panties rubbing on the side of his cock everytime he thrust in and out made him lose his mind.

"inside please. come inside me baby." you said pleading.

Jungkook bit on his bottom lip, the flesh turning white as his hips went faster and harder making you cry out.

"Sir, are you in here?" Soobin asked sounding confused.

"ah yes!" he groaned out loudly. 

Jungkook threw his head back, squeezing his eyes shut tightly, hands gripping on your sides, fingernails deep into your flesh as he came hard inside you after a few strong thrusts, his warm cum feeling you up to the brim.

He rode your orgasm, moving slowly making you breath slower.

"Mr. Jeon, I’ll come back. I have to take that call." Soobin walked away with his phone ringing. 

"damn." he sighed pleasantly as he rest his sweaty forehead on yours.

"I love you Mr.Jeon." you smiled softly before pecking his abused lips.

"I love you Mrs. Jeon." He grinned, nudging his nose with yours.

You caressed Jungkook’s cheek softly, brushing the long dark strands of hair stuck on his face.

You stayed into each others embrace for a few minutes before he cleaned you up and helped put your clothes on. You did the same, taking your time appreciating the moment.

Still sitting on the edge of his desk, you buttoned his shirt up, arranging his black tie.

"now, you good." you smiled proudly, pushing his hair back, putting some long stands behind his ears.

"handsome!" you poked his nose playfully making him shook his head with a wide smile.

"thanks darling." he kissed your cheek lovingly before sitting on his chair.

He grabbed his sheets again, taking a pen before looking up at you.

"tell me the two paragraphs you talked about earlier." he tilted his head cutely as he handed you the pen.

You’ve been staring at your husband working for a solid ten minutes. His eyes glued on his computer’s screen, his hand resting on your thigh as you were still sat on the piece of furniture. 

"Koo." you poked his cheek making him turned his head to the side as you held the little box you came with earlier.

"don’t you wanna eat it?"

"ah, yes!" he approached his chair closer to you.

"feed me?" he asked expectantly making you chuckle.

"Of course." you opened the little box, holding the cake for him as he bit on it.

"thank you. that cake was so good." Jungkook hummed as he held your hand before going back to work again.

—

You jumped off the desk, putting your shoes on making Jungkook look at you curiously.

"well, I’ll let you work now." you patted his head before walking away making him grab you wrist stopping you.

"where are you going?"

"home?"

"stay a little more." he pouted making your heart melt.

"It’s late already. I expected you to come with me instead." you pursed your lips.

Jungkook looked at his watch, looking outside.

"fine." he stretch his sore muscles before standing up.

"let me get my things quickly and we can get out of here." he informed making you nod.

"let’s go home." he smiled tiredly.

—

A/N : i know, I know … it’s def a weird way to end this lmao sorry. I hope you guys liked it :)

[batsythoughts]

I know nobody probably wants this, but I had this spiral of thoughts while at work today and had to share. What if the Joker had a child that no one had known about?

Not like a teenager that had been under his care for years and mentally crazy like the Joker, but like a knee-high, wide eyed, 'have uppies?' toddler.

Like, imagine that Batman had busted a part of Joker's operations and was talking with the officers

He realized it was only a couple hours until sunrise and had to go and get some rest for a big meeting he had with his lawyers

The last thing he said was to round up every person in the building and put them all in a secure cell in the Asylum

Immediately after Batman leaves, one of the officers finds this small child in a room with multiple screens playing different escapades that the Joker had performed over the years

Poor kid was strapped to a chair and sobbing when the officer frantically undid the ropes and got the kid out of that room

Everyone was confused about what they should potentially do with this kid who looked like a miniature clown

Without many options, the kid gets sent to the Asylum with all the Joker's henchmen who are equally as confused about who the hell this kid was

The Warden is fucking livid because what the FUCK is a kid doing here, but it was the safest place to be while everyone tried to figure out if the child was stable to be around the nonvillainous population

Most of the detainees are confused, but none of them speak out of turn to them

In fact, the kid becomes the reason most of them behave to a degree

It is still a prison after all with rules and there were no exceptions even with a child

Some of the inmates would get into small altercations during meal times to keep the guards distracted while the cooks would sneak small bits of food to other inmates so they could give the kid a snack later in the day

Sure it could cost them their job, but what kind of person would let a child go hungry throughout the day?

Anyways, a couple weeks go by and most crime had gone down during the night. No attempted escapes or extravagant overtakings of any kind from almost any villain

Bruce and the boys are very confused by the sudden change, but silently welcome the relaxed pace that is happening

Alfred was taking the day to get groceries for the Manor with Jason being dragged along for some 'social interaction'

Mostly so Alfred had someone else to push the shopping cart and Tim and Damian refused to go to the store, but that's besides the point

Alfred was looking between two different brownie mixes when two women walk by

They talked about how the guards are bordering on taking their job too serious with the one inmate they had

Alfred began to tune them out as he began to put one of the mixes in the cart when he suddenly froze in place

"I mean, the kid's been through enough already. How many 4-year-olds do you know that have semipermanent white paint on their whole body with dyed purple hair?"

Alfred's hand remained suspended in air as the women slowly walked past them. His mind flashed back to a few years ago when he remembered Bruce telling him about Harley suddenly stopped coming to any scheme the Joker had for over half a year. And then she came back slightly more manic than she was previously for a few month after

Jason, who had been spaced out, glanced at Alfred and thought the older man was having a stroke. He had never seen the butler so still in all the time that they had known one another. Jason swears he can't even see him breath for a good 12 seconds

Alfred quickly puts the baking mix on the shelf, not even looking to make sure it was in the right spot. Jason felt his blood run cold at that sight alone as the bulter walked off and grabbed Jason's collar

The cart partially full of groceries was forgotten as Alfred went to the children's section and picked up a box with a toddler's car seat in it. Went to the register and paying before going to the car and expertly putting car seat in the middle backseat

Jason felt extremely confused as he watched the whole scene before he hesitantly decided to ask, "What do we need a carseat for? We don't have a kid that needs one."

Alfred broke down the empty box and put it in the trunk before going to open the passenger door for Jason. Walking over to the driver's side and calmly getting in. "Not yet."

Cue Jason terrified for his life as Alfred speeds through the streets because DEAR GOD THE SPEED LIMIT IS 55 NOT 82!

Jason pulls out his phone to record the whole thing before it was over because no one would believe this if he didn'thave proof. Barely registering that he had accidentally started a live stream on one of the Wayne Enterprise's accounts Tim had connected him to at some point

Alfred only slams on the breaks when he gets to the gates of Arkham Asylum. Glaring down the guard who tries to yell at him before coldly stating, "I'm here for the child."

The guard begins protesting that it's a restricted area, but Alfred stared him down with a glare that Jason had only seen a handful of times in his life when one of the boys had fucked up bad

The guard keeps telling them to turn around and Alfred reached under the dash and when the FUCK did he hide a GUN under there?!

"The child. Now." The guard opened the gate and Alfred pulled in before putting the gun away and shutting the car off

Jason considers staying in the car as Alfred gets out and begins marching to the door. But God, he didn't want to explain to Bruce that he didn't even fully know why Alfred conned his way into a high security prison

The two of them walk through the corridors to an unknown destination. Jason looking both confused and terrified while flipping the camera between him and Alfred until they make it to the cafeteria

All the inmates look over at the two of them as they walk in, Alfred looking over the crowd before spotting the spot of purple in the sea of orange jumpsuits

He walks with over to Poison Ivy who was carrying the little one around before holding out his hands. Ivy looks at him for a moment before giving a small nod in understanding and letting him take the child

"Take good care of them or I will come for you, old man." Ivy warns him before giving a small wave to the child. "Have a good time sweetie."

"Bye bye, Aunt Ivy." Alfred began to walk back to Jason. Glaring softly as the guards try to block his path

Half of them are on the ground in just a few seconds as most of the inmates start a fight with the guards. Each of them waving bye as Alfred walks back to Jason and to the car

By looks alone, Jason could tell exactly who's kid this was. Who wouldn't be able to when they looked just like a fucking child circus star

Jason stares in confusion as Alred gently puts the child in the car seat and buckles them in. Patting their head before telling Jason to get in the back

He's too scared to argue so he gets in behind the passenger seat as Alfred opens the door to get in but stops when the Warden comes marching over

Leaving the door open, Alfred calmly walks over the the man while getting yelled at that he can't just take a prisoner simply because he wants to

Jason flips the camera to show Alfred calmly taking in the yells of the Warden

The moment he tried to walk past the butler to get to the car, Alfred backhanded him so hard the Warden fell to the ground

Jason stared in shock as Alfred got in the car and began driving back towards the City

Jason looks at the child who stares back at him with the same intensity until they looked out the window and pointing. "Where going?"

"To get you some food and new clothes." Alfred speaks plainly as he got to a drive thru. Quickly ordering a kids meal and handing it back the moment it was ready.

Jason watched as the child began eating the moment the food was in their lap. Occasionally offering him a piece which he always denied so the kid ate the much needed nutrients

Alfred drove into the parking lot of a children's clothing store before getting out and carrying the child in with Jason following close behind

Alfred takes the kid through the aisles to pick out some clothes that they would want to wear

Jason chuckling at the sight of Alfred holding different shirts up to see if they would fit because they look so happy to get to pick out one with a derpy looking cat on it

After getting some outfits, they all walk to the checkout. Waiting in line for a moment before Alfred feels a small tug on his arm

Looking down, he sees the child pointing at something. Moving his gaze, he takes notice of a small stand with small Batman plushies on it

Jason holds back a laugh as he points the camera over the stand before looking at the child again. "You like Batman, huh?"

The both got an eager nod as curious eyes look back at Alfred, waiting for an answer. With a small smile, he grabbed one and put it on the counter to be paid for first. The moment it was scanned, it was handed down to the excited hands of its new owner

The kid gives an excited giggle as they held the toy over their head that the cashier couldn't help but smile as well

After everything was paid for, Alfred makes sure the child gets changed out of the prison uniform. He made a mental note to have Bruce investigate on why they even were given one in the first place

Getting back in the car, Alfred drives them back to the grocery store to restart the whole shopping trip with the intention for getting extra snacks for the family's new guest

With the child buckled into the child carrier in the cart, Jason began pushing the cart while following Alfred around the store once again

He tried holding the phone in his own hand, but gave up as little hands keep curiously grabbing at it to see the screen with wide eyes

He smiles as he watches the child make multiple different faces to the camera, a small fit of laughter sounding each time they look back up at Jason

He can help but wonder how such a calm and happy child (calm and happy compared to the teens Bruce took in) could be the offspring of the very man who made his life a living hell

They make it halfway through the store a confused voice called out to the men

Dick had just been grabbing a few snack items for himself to have for his weekend off

The last thing he expected to see was Jason hauling around a child while Alfred finished putting multiple different juice boxes from the shelf into the cart

He walked over with a bag of chips and frozen mini pizzas as he wore a confused frown while looking between the three of them

Jason wore a smirk as he leaned on the handle. Alfred gave him a small nod before he pulled out the shopping list to see what else was needed

The child look at him with a small head tilt. Blinking up at him before holding up the plush toy with a cheerful "Batsy!"

Dick has to bite his lip to hold back is laughter from the single action alone, because how ironic is it that this kid adores Batman specifically

Alfred begins to walk towards the pharmacy area, intending to get some hygiene supplies for the child

Dick begin following behind Jason as they follow behind. Dick leaning over to Jason and asking what the hell is going and why is there now a toddler

Before Jason can say anything, an excited fit of laughter sounds as a small hand points to something once again

It's the electronic area in the store, so maybe it's a movie that's caught the attention of the child

Jason and Dick look over and both of them stare in shock as they see a wall of TVs playing a live feed from a local news station. A group of news anchors smiling as they stare at a screen that was also playing onscreen

What makes the two of them most nervous is the half of the screen that was currently showing a smiling face with purple hair staring down at the camera once again

Jason frantically grabs his phone as he begins to try and figure out how to turn the video off as Dick frantically raises his voice because how did you not realize you were live filming and WHY IS THERE 3.2 BILLION PEOPLE WATCHING THIS!?

Jason finally turns the video off and the TV cuts the video almost immediately which causes half the reporters to boo

Let both let out a breath of relief as the feed cuts out, watching the screen to see how bad the damage was

To their surprise, the headline on screen read 'Happy Little Addition to Wayne Family?'

They both look confused as they hear one reporter talks about how the internet is enamored by this unexpected new appearance in the Wayne family. Grinning as they mention the people who watched the video decided to nickname the kid 'Giggles' because of how happy they were during the whole thing

Jason cursed under his breath as he realized he might have screwed up big time with Bruce because of the whole thing. He didn't get much time to think about it before Alfred came back and pulled the cart along with him

Dick shook his head with a stupid grin on his face as he looked at Jason "Bruce is going to have stroke when he finds out about this."

Which Bruce practically did. He was in a budgeted meeting for the new quarter for the company, so he didn't even have a clue about the whole livestream

He had just got out of the meeting when his assistant came up with a concerned expression. Hastily trying to tell him some news that he really needs to hear

Bruce rubs his temples as he calmly asks if he could get five minutes of quiet in his office before hearing any form of news

His assistant followed after him while trying to explain that it was really important that he sees this now

With a deep sigh, Bruce reluctantly took the tablet into his hand to stare at whatever statistic was on the screen

What he wasn't expecting to see was small clips of video with Alfred holding up different clothes and Jason sitting in the backseat as a kid offers him a french fry

The only reaction from Bruce was a deep sighas he handed the tablet back before saying he was leaving for the day

He was thankful that no paparazzi had come around to get any pictures as he was getting to his car

Damian and Tim had been in the living room when they had gotten back to the manor. Neither of them knowing about the livestream because why would they watch it if Bruce would just sum it up to the others later that night

Alfred came in with the sleeping child in his arms and walked over to the couch Tim was on. Placing them down on his lap before walking away to get the groceries put away

Both of the younger boys are confused as they watch this little clown lean further into Tim while holding a small toy in a death cuddle

After a few minutes, Dick and Jason both come walking in as Jason takes the remote from beside Damian and flips through the channels

Dick sits near Tim as he opens the bag of chips he got as he stares at the child with a confused expression

Everyone looks at Jason for a moment before Tim asks, "Where did you get the kid from?"

Jason settles on a small comedy movie as he gives a small shrug "Alfred picked the kid up from the Asylum. He pulled a gun he keeps under the dash on one of the guards."

Tim and Dick let out small noises of disbelief at the explanation while Damian wondered which gun Jason was meaning. Alfred had both a pistol and revolver in the car that he was aware of

The child slowly began to stir with a small whine as they opened their eyes. Glancing around to see the new environment they had found themselves in

Moving to their own spot on the couch while looking at the movie with confused and sleepy eyes

Damian stared down the child for a while before actually making eye contact

The both stared at one another for a moment before Damian finally spoke up "So the clown had an accident that he didn't want."

"Damian!" Dick begins to scold the boy as he sat up straight. His voice falling short when a little head rests on his chest as frantic cries fill the room

It's hard for them to understand the what was being said between the sobs, but Dick was able to get out was 'don't wanna go back'

Dick holds the child close while trying his hardest to make the crying stop

Everyone feels uncomfortable as the child holds the Batman toy tighter while hiccuping out something along the lines of 'no fight Batsy'

Dear lord, did they underestimate how traumatized this toddler was compared to the rest of them at such a young age

Tim picks up his phone to try and find a video or something that might try and calm down the whole situation

That's when he gets a notification about some video about someone named Giggles?

He clicks on it, thinking it would be able to a couple laughs

The moment it loads, he looks between Jason and the kid because why are they in a video on his phone right now

Apparently, people had made highlight reels of the live stream and were sharing them online. The one Tim had clicked on was designed like one of those joke style ones with the funny little background music

He was about to change it when he saw the kid lift their head up with a confused look as they stare at the phone in his hand

Tim quickly connects his phone to the TV so the video was now on screen

Tears were quickly gone as small laughs soon began to fill the living room

All the boys felt relieved as they watched along with the video. Laughing softly at a few parts that showed up in the video

All of them let out shocked noises when they all watched Alfred bitch slap the Warden like he was a fly

None of them noticed when the door opened when Bruce got home. He immediately went to the kitchen where Alfred was making a few sandwiches

Walking up to the counter, Bruce looked at Alfred while asking him why the internet is showing he basically broke a convict out of prison

Cutting the crust off the sandwiches, Alfred countered that without an actual crime being committed by the person, it wasn't breaking a convict out

Bruce was utterly unimpressed as he crossed his arms saying they had to go back to the asylum where they were placed by the police

Alfred puts the last sandwich on the plate before looking directly into Bruce's eyes

"Alright."

Bruce furrowed his brow in confusion. There was no way it was going to be that easy for Alfred to agree

"You have to break the news of taking the child back though."

There it was

Bruce held his gaze as he raised a brow. He could easily find a way to explain the whole situation and why it would be best-

The tugging on his suit jacket pulled Bruce out of his thoughts. Looking down, he saw a curious face looking back at him

"I have juice, please?"

Bruce had not expected someone who barely even reached his knee to be the child in question. He was thinking maybe it was a teenager who was on the younger looking side of the spectrum

He really needed to talk to his assistant about showing him more detailed photos next time

Bruce looked back at Alfred, who simply raised a brow in response

Cue the whole Batfam on or around the couch while watching a movie. Bruce sending messages to his assistant to remind him to schedule different doctors appointments with little Giggles cuddled up on his lap

No one knew the kids actual name so they were just going with it because it made the kid happy to be called that

Dick was on the end as he quickly took a selfie with Bruce patting Giggles' head as they showed him the stuffed Batman while drinking from a juice box. The others in various lounging positions close by while eating the sandwiches Alfred provided

He put it on his story with the caption 'Bruce is putting this kid in his will right now, I swear'

The peaceful atmosphere was broken when Alfred came walking in with Commissioner Gordon walking in with a deep frown

He looked at Bruce as he explained that Giggles had to go back to the asylum due to the safety of the city

All the boys stared at him with looks of disinterest as they silently dared him to try

Gordon let out a sigh as he explained that Giggles was placed in the care of the city after the bust had happened, so technically the Wayne's would potentially face kidnapping charges if they didn't give the kid to him

Alfred cleared his throat as he pulled out a piece of paper and handed it to Gordan

He looked it over for a moment before taking in a deep breath while rubbing his temple

He handed the paper back as he mumbles that he doesn't get paid enough. He begins walking away with a small wave goodbye as he quickly leaves the manor

Bruce looks at Alfred as he asks what the paper was. It gets handed to him as a confused look crosses Bruce's face because when the hell did he sign adoption papers

Alfred explains he had messaged Bruce's lawyer earlier hand had it drawn up that afternoon. The signature was easy to get because he had a stamp for emergency reasons

Dick can't help himself as he takes another picture for the scene and posts it on the Bruce's personal account with the caption 'He adopted the kid and didn't even know it'

Dick and Jason laugh to one another as they whisper to themselves about how Giggles is going to loose it when they find out who Batman really was

[sleepingdeath-light]

minthara smut hcs ; 18+

requested by ; disney anon (02/12/23)

fandom(s) ; baldur’s gate 3

fandom masterlist(s) ; here

character(s) ; minthara

outline ; “I've been summoned by your BG3 request call 🫡 Can you please do some Minthara x reader relationship and smut headcanons?”

warning(s) ; sexually explicit content, strict dominant!minthara, sadist!minthara, submissive!reader, masochist!reader, bondage, marking kink, pet name kink (mistress), edging, orgasm denial, ruined orgasms, use of sex toys (strap on)

note ; as i’ve never written for minthara until now, her characterisation may be a tad shaky here/worth a future rework lol ^^

minors and ageless blogs will be blocked

first things first, but minthara is a strictly dominant person so there’s less than zero chance of you ever getting her to hand over control to you (not even as a type of roleplay) — and not only is she strictly dominant, she’s also a very strict dominant who isn’t afraid to punish you for acting out of line and/or being a brat

though there are occasions where she can appreciate the opportunity to fight you for the right to dominate you — she fell for your strength and capability in battle, after all, so the occasional chance to experience that side of you again is certainly welcome (… so long as you clear it with her first, otherwise she may just see it as you actually being a brat and will punish you accordingly)

she has very specific expectations of you once you two start incorporating a formal dynamic into your bedroom, which includes everything from establishing a thorough and methodical aftercare routine to discussing how she ought to punish you for breaking the rules — each rule has its own sort of punishment, of course, and she’s very particular about having each punishment be suited to the offence committed (e.g. minor infractions and slip ups are met with softer punishments whereas majorly bratting out will have you bent over her knee and punished immediately), and she always makes a point to have you state your ‘crime’ and it’s set punishment in full before moving on to actually punishing you (this is partially to humiliate you and remind you of your place, but it’s also her own way of making sure you understand what’s being done and don’t think you’re being hurt without reason — she may be a sadist, but she’s not that cruel… not with you, anyway)

due to the above mentioned discussions, minthara absolutely excels when it comes to aftercare — loving you and being gentle with you may not come easily to her given her background, but she nevertheless does whatever she can to ensure you’re well taken care of to the best of her abilities: washing you by hand, bringing you filling foods to eat, fetching water, and talking through what happened to ensure she didn’t go too far and that you did actually enjoy yourself no matter how taxing the session was on you

of course she makes a habit of altering/adjusting her punishments based on your limits and boundaries, but if you have no objections to them then her default punishment for severe infractions is as follows: minthara restraining you so professionally and tightly that you can barely move at all, her using her hands and/or strap-on to bring you to the brink of climax and either pulling away entirely to edge you or giving you a completely ruined orgasm, her not stopping until you’re weeping through your words as you beg her to please let you cum/finish properly and promise her to be good, and her finally giving in to your pleas once she’s decided you’ve earned it (or not giving in at all if you were especially bad or bratty beforehand)

as mentioned above, minthara is extremely proficient when it comes to bondage and is more than happy to show off her talents whenever the occasion arises — whether you want something minimal but practical, something to suspend you, or something with a little more flare to keep you in place as she ruins you, she’s more than capable of adapting her style to suit each of your needs and wants in the bedroom

because of how intense sex and foreplay with her can get, she makes sure that you remember every established safe word and action before you two actually do anything — actions in case you’re gagged or too overwhelmed to speak, milder safe words in case you need a break but don’t actually want to stop, fake safe words if you’re participating in a sort of primal play, and an actual safe word if you want her to stop

once you two are in an intimate situation you’re expected to address her as ‘mistress’ lest she have to punish you for your defiance — she may be swayed to let you call her something like ‘mommy’ (or ‘mummy’ depending on your preference) if it’s something that you’re really into and if you’ve been good enough to earn a reward, but her preference will always be towards ‘mistress’

she has a big thing for marking you as hers and will do so however you allow her — whether that means going out of her way to buy you a formal collar once you’re committed to each other, or settling for something a little more primal (welts on your ass/thighs/chest from impact play, bite marks on your neck/chest/stomach, bruises on your hips/thighs/wrists [if bruises show up on you], having you wear something of hers that will fit you, etc.)

(in other words; minthara doesn’t like sharing and makes it clear as soon as possible that you’re hers to use and that others ought to steer clear if they know what’s good for them)

she loves it when you’re vocal and will (lightly) punish you for trying to stay quiet without her explicit permission to do so — whether you lean towards being more quiet (whimpers, panting, whispers), or are much louder in bed (moaning, groaning, crying out), minthara loves it all the same because it lets her know that she’s the only one that is making you be that vocal and she isn’t shy about how much that fact inflates her ego

for her own part minthara is never particularly loud but she is very vocal, making sure to narrate everything she’s doing as she does it (or even just before if you’re blindfolded) and that you’re aware of exactly what she thinks of your current state — sometimes that means straight-faced comments about how obviously aroused you are and how it’s clear you’re enjoying yourself, other times her commentary leans towards being more humiliating/degrading/derogatory, occasionally she’ll slip into her native elvish dialect and you won’t be able to tell what’s actually being said beyond general assumptions based on her actions and her tone, and other times it’s a mixture of the two

very rarely will she outright praise you — only when you’re being exceptionally well behaved/good for her or when it’s clear you’re in dire need of encouragement because of something like sub-drop (it’s just… not in her nature to praise you needlessly, so give her some leniency here)

is definitely appreciative of you making an effort to dress up for her, but she has a strong preference for seeing you in leathers over some impractical frilly number — she can appreciate the intricacy of certain lingerie designs, she’s not oblivious after all, but that doesn’t change her thoughts on the matter

[say-al0e]

Starlight

Rating: PG

Summary: As your back seater, you trusted Bob with your life. He was the one person you could tell anything. He cared enough to listen and did what he could to ease your anxiety. He knows something's wrong but he couldn't imagine the birdstrike made you consider feelings you thought were better left buried. [Ft. "It's you, it's always been you, it always will be you." + "I'm so in love with you and you don't even notice." "...you're in love with me?" Requested by Anon ages ago - sorry!] Warnings: Anxiety, mentions of work related injury (birdstrike), brief mention of sexism in the workplace. Pairing: Robert 'Bob' Floyd x fem!Reader (Pilot!Reader) Word Count: 3.8k  Top Gun Taglist | Top Gun Masterlist

Robert Floyd knew what it was like to be anxious. He spent his fair share of days in a suspended state of fight or flight, really only relaxed when he was in the air - a contradiction, he knew, but being strapped into his seat with nothing but the blue expanse of sky stretching before him was comforting in a way he couldn’t quite understand.

Anxiety was something he knew all too well but he knew you, too. Over the years, Bob had learned to read you better than the most well-loved book on his shelf. The little tells that everyone else missed - the downward curve of your mouth, the slump of your shoulders, the uneven measure of your breathing - never escaped his notice.

It was easy to guess that the measure of comfort, the ease with which he read you, came from your proximity. As your back seater, Bob spent more time with you than anyone else. He was trained to notice things, to anticipate the next move, to read a few lines ahead, and you - your moods, your tells, your general being - were at the top of the list of things he noticed.

For better or for worse, good day or bad, Bob could tell with a single look.

There was no hiding from Bob, not that you even tried anymore, and there was never any surprise that he saw the signs of your anxiety immediately.

The moment you stepped into his room - fingers trembling, lashes fluttering as you blinked just a little too quick, breath coming in a little too shallow - he knew. There was no point in trying to hide it, no use in pretending that it was anything other than anxiety. Bob could see right through you by now.

Way back when, when he first realized that you were just as anxious as him and lived in that same state of suspended fight or flight, he’d asked what helped.

For Bob, it was music. Very few people knew he enjoyed playing guitar - even fewer had ever heard him play to know that he was good at it - but when he found himself lost in thought, crippled by an anxiety that left him nauseous, he took a few moments to sit and strum away. His vinyl collection remained back home, waiting for the day he moved into a place that he could really make his own, but when playing guitar didn’t work, he still turned on the playlist he made specifically for moments of anxiety and let himself get lost in the music.

Bob remembered the look on your face when you admitted that you had no idea. That frown - a little confused, curious as to why he even asked; a lot upset, crushed that you had no idea how to help yourself after spending your life almost hyper independent - and the way you nearly refused to meet his eyes, intently staring at the stained carpet of his bedroom floor, remained seared into his memory.

Before him, there’d been no one to acknowledge your feelings. Growing up, you were always the tough one. In the Naval Academy, and at Top Gun, you pushed yourself to be the best - eager to be taken seriously in a world dominated by men. Outwardly, everyone saw you as the strong one; the one that was capable of pushing through, no matter the circumstances. 

Before him, no one cared enough to truly look and see beyond the facade. If they noticed, no one ever really cared enough to try and help. Before him, each time you felt anxious - chest aching, lungs tight, heart racing, skin prickling - you isolated yourself.

Dealing with the problem on your own was easier when there was no additional disappointment caused by another’s apathy.

Bob, however, cared.

If you told him that isolation really helped - truly meant it, really needed time alone to gather yourself, to pick apart the pieces of your panic and put yourself back together again - he would’ve gladly given you space. But that wasn’t the case and Bob knew that.

At first, he had no idea how to help, but he knew that leaving you alone wasn’t the way too go about things. No matter how hard you tried to push him away - something he was thankful you no longer tried to do.

And after a great deal of trial and error, he helped you figure out what worked best.

Instead of allowing you to step further inside, Bob was on his feet and reaching for his keys and jacket the second he caught sight of your face. He could see the glass of your eyes, the far-off stare as you willed yourself not to fall apart. And despite the blistering heat outside, he could see the way shivers racked your body.

Without a second thought, he draped the soft fabric over your shoulders. It was light but it served as a weight against your skin, a sort of tether to reality, as he guided you out of his room.

Warmth bled from his palms, seeped through the fabric and into your skin as he placed a hand at the middle of your back, and his mouth curved into a soft frown as you leaned into the touch. It wasn’t as exceedingly rare as it seemed that first time - way back when, before Bob knew whether your partnership would work, before he was comfortable enough with you as a friend to really allow himself to fall for you - but you really only leaned in like that when you were so far in your head that he wondered just what sent you spiraling.

Bob wasted no time wondering, however. “C’mon,” he urged gently, voice quiet and soft in a way it always seemed to go in moments like this. “Let’s go for a drive.”

As he guided you out of the building, he kept closer than he usually stood - only a fraction of an inch between you, close enough to feel the warmth radiating off his body and the shivers racking yours - and squeezed your shoulder gently as he opened the passenger door. Soft brown eyes, wide and searching, met yours as you climbed in.

When you offered him the ghost of a smile, watery and in no way reaching your eyes, he returned it as best as he could - encouraging, soft, easy - and mumbled a quiet, “It’s okay,” before rounding the vehicle.

There was no need to ask where he was taking you. This had become an increasingly regular occurrence - a byproduct of the stress of work and life, family and all their endless frustration, all settling heavy on your chest - so you wrapped the soft fabric of his sweatshirt tighter around your body. The warmth mattered little, even as Bob turned on the heat despite his own discomfort, as you inhaled deeply.

The jacket smelled of him - the soft, clean scent of his shampoo; the woody, citrus scent of his cologne; acrid jet fuel, achingly familiar, that managed to permeate every item either of you owned - and it calmed your heart, if only slightly. Though it was light, the added weight helped, pressed on your shoulders and eased the tremors in your limbs, as Bob slowly maneuvered the streets.

Doe eyes flickered between you and the road occasionally, soft brown reflecting orange streetlights and glittering with a concern you only really saw directed at you. Bob cared about a lot of things - his friends, his family, his job - and was anxious about even more. But he really only worried about you these days.

Bob never voiced it aloud, never said it in so many words, but you knew. Everyone knew. There was very little fragile about you - he knew that, had seen you take charge on more than one occasion; regularly watched you hold your own with men like Hangman, men who somehow managed to be worse than Hangman ever thought about being - but he still worried.

Outwardly, the pair of you could’t seem anymore different. Bob relegated himself to the shadows, allowed the world to spin without throwing himself right into the center of it all. You never sought attention but, somehow, always seemed to garner it without so much as the blink of an eye. Not that he blamed anyone for focusing on you, he was guilty of it, too, most days.

But he knew that you shared more similarities than differences.

Long years, left out and forgotten, invisible to nearly everyone else; less than stellar childhoods, spent building fantasies that had yet to come to pass as a means of protecting yourselves; years of service, marked by exemplary records and commendations, even through relative silence.

If anyone could really understand what you felt, the anxiety that all too often plagued you, the root of what really kept you up at night, it was Bob.

As buildings rushed by, passed in a blur of shadows and orange streetlights, you busied yourself with a fraying thread at the cuff of his jacket. Though silence was not unusual, this was heavier than normal - nearly suffocating, without the usual comfort, lacking the distinct feeling of home that so often came with spending time together - but breaking it was the last thing on either of your minds.

Bob would never push, would never make you speak before you were ready, and knew that you were one of the few who truly appreciated his ability to remain a quiet, steady force as he navigated the familiar course through town.

The beach wasn’t a place either of you frequented - sun and sand and a preening Hangman didn’t top either of your lists of favorite things - and before being stationed in California, he could count on one hand the number of times he’d stepped foot on one. There wasn’t really much there for either of you but Bob had discovered one thing about the beach that managed to help your anxiety.

Sitting in the sand, cloaked in the soft light of the moon, as you listened to the crashing of waves made it easier for you to catch your breath. Watching the twinkling lights of distant stars, planets, passing planes - sometimes pointing them out, others just watching in silence - brought your heart rate down and stopped the tingling in the tips of your fingers.

Neither of you expected the beach to be the place you found solace but Bob had no intention of questioning something that helped you return to yourself.

Arriving at the beach meant following a familiar routine. Bob parked, grabbed an oversized towel from the backseat floorboard, and spared you a final cursory glance before climbing out to open your door for you.  He guided you, with a hand at the middle of your back - always so respectful, always careful not to dip too low - along the wooden path down to the sand before stopping and helping you remove your shoes.

When you settled in the sand, close enough to the water to feel the occasional spray of sea air but far enough ashore to remain out of reach, he always returned his full attention to you.

Sometimes, Bob asked if you wanted to talk. He never pushed, was never one to swear getting whatever it was off your chest would make you feel better - he knew from experience that it wouldn’t, not always -, but he always offered to listen. However, more often than not, you refused his request with one of your own.

“Can you talk? Doesn’t really matter what you say.”

The words were always spoken softly, nearly lost in the crashing of waves, but this was routine now. It didn’t really matter if he heard the words or not, he could see the request in the curve of your mouth - in the way your eyes glittered with unshed tears as you glanced at him from beneath your lashes.

That request was always followed by an even quieter, “Your voice helps.” While Bob wasn’t known for being the most talkative, he swore he’d spend the rest of his life speaking, just for you.

When you first made that request, he nearly asked you why. His voice wasn’t one people sought out, wasn’t one people cared to pay much attention to. But for some reason, you seemed to find comfort in it - in him - and the thought warmed his heart more than he cared to admit.

Bob never really let himself think too much about any of it, though, not where you were concerned. If he allowed himself that indulgence, he knew it would be glaringly obvious how he felt. There would be no denying just how deep his feelings for you ran, no denying that he’d known about those feelings since that first night at the beach. But most of all, there would be no denying that he was desperate to do anything and everything to make you happy.

There wasn’t a world in which Bob could see you returning his feelings - not just because of your jobs, not just because your lives were so thoroughly intertwined at this point that your inevitable rejection would destroy the effortless working relationship you’d built - so he kept them buried down deep.

It didn’t help to know that he wasn’t the only one who’d found you immediately alluring. Still, he’d witnessed you turn down Fanboy, Rooster, and Hangman in rapid succession - something that dashed any remaining sliver of hope that you could ever want him.

Regardless, the more time he spent with you, the better he got to know you, the deeper his feelings ran. You allowed him to catch glimpses that no one else ever got the privilege of seeing, allowed him a look at the inner workings of your mind. You let your guard down around him, gave him an intimate look at the person behind the bravado you felt necessary to survive in this world, and he was grateful for every glimpse.

As desperate as he sometimes felt to put a little distance between you outside of the cockpit, Bob knew that he couldn’t stand it. Not when he was the one you turned to, not when you seemed to find such comfort in him. So, he did as you asked.

“My grandma called this morning,” he began, voice quiet so as to avoid shattering the peace that surrounded you both. “She said it snowed yesterday and threatened to hang up on me when I told her it’s been seventy-five and sunny here every day.”

From the corner of his eye, Bob could see the ghost of a smile lift the corner of your mouth. A soft exhale, something that resembled quiet laughter, escaped and he began to smile a little himself. You’d had the joy of meeting his grandmother on her last visit - asked about her just as often as she asked about you - and loved to hear stories of her more than anything.

“The neighbor’s cows got into her yard again, trampled what was left of her flowers. Mr. Abbott, down the road, said he’d come fix her fence when the snow clears so it won’t happen again and his wife promised to help replant her flowers so she’s not too upset, I guess.”

Bob held his breath as you shifted closer, rested your head on his shoulder and hummed thoughtfully, but willed his heartbeat to remain steady as he swallowed. “Lizzy’s supposed to have her baby in a few weeks. She told me to tell you thanks for the gift.”

Another soft hum, this one a little more lively than the last, reverberated through his skin as you acknowledged his sister’s gratitude. “Glad she liked it.”

“Think she’s got pretty much everything she could need now. Can barely get in the baby’s room,” he confided, laughing lightly as he glanced out at the still ocean. “Grandma said they’re gonna have to store some stuff at her house, until they need it.”

A brief quiet fell over the pair of you then as you attempted to focus on your breathing while Bob made a conscious effort to keep his hands from shaking as he dusted sand from his palms. This was in no way new. In fact, he should’ve expected it - the quiet, the close proximity, the scent of your shampoo filling his nose as you attempted to gather yourself - but it managed to shock him to his core every single time it happened.

Though a small part of him wanted to linger, to allow you the time to speak when you were ready, he couldn’t help himself as he asked, “What’s on your mind?”

Bob waited patiently as you considered your answer, waited with few expectations as you weighed the words carefully in an attempt to decide just how honest you wanted to be. He expected many things - a lament of how hard you’d all been training, a huff at how difficult Hangman had been, a roll of your eyes as you mentioned your mother’s latest tirade - but he felt a sort of mild surprise when you answered.

“The birdstrike.” He was the person you let in the most, the person you allowed a glimpse beyond your tough facade, but the birdstrike was something neither of you spoke of.

Nearly two weeks had passed since the incident, one that saw you both ejecting in the middle of training - one that left you with a concussion and Bob with a bruised rib - and he’d assumed you were planning to avoid speaking about it. There’d been a tense moment in the hospital, one in which you’d shared a wordless conversation, and that was that.

Really, though, he should’ve known better.

“What about it?” He wasn’t one to press, not really, but he felt the need to ask as you began drawing nonsensical patterns in the sand at your side.

“I… I know it was just a freak accident. It happens. But I was just… I was afraid,” you admitted, voice quiet over the rush of the ocean. “I was afraid of what would happen to us, to you. I didn’t,” you paused then, taking a moment to inhale a shaking breath as you gathered your thoughts. “I didn’t want that to be the end. And I know I should’ve been thinking about something more important in that moment, like my family or the future or something, but the only thing I could think about was the fact that I’m so in love with you and you don’t even notice.”

For a moment, Bob feared the exhaustion he was beginning to feel had caught up with him. There was no way he heard what he thought he did. There was no planet on which you returned his feelings, no timeline in which it made sense for you to love him, too, but the words echoed loud and clear in his ears.

To know that you’d spent that moment thinking of him, wondering if he reciprocated your feelings, simultaneously eased the ache in his chest and sent his heart rate soaring. It was difficult to do much more than blink, to flounder as he searched for something comforting to say, and he ultimately landed on the obvious.

“…you’re in love with me?” The question was high-pitched, edging on hysterical, but Bob couldn’t bring himself to care very much as he tipped his head to glance at you.

There was a faraway look in your eyes as you glanced out at the ocean, a deliberate attempt to keep from meeting his eyes, as you hummed. “Yeah.” It was defeated, quiet, almost resigned as you made a thoughtful noise. “You make it so hard to be anything but in love with you.”

Robert Floyd had been called many things in his lifetime; quiet, odd, difficult. Lovable was never a word he’d encountered. His mouth opened and closed several times in search of the right words to say, something that would adequately portray his own feelings, but all he seemed to be capable of was a disbelieving, “I… no one’s ever said anything like that to me.”

“That’s always so surprising to me,” you revealed, still refusing to glance in his direction, though he was certain you could feel the rapid beat of his heart. “It’s you. It’s been you from the moment we met and I’m starting to think it will always be you. I realized it before then and I know that this is probably a terrible thing, being in love with you when our lives are so intertwined. If you don’t…” You trailed off, pausing for a moment to gather yourself, before you cleared your throat. “If you don’t feel the same, work might be weird. Or if you do and something happens later on, it might ruin what we have. I’ve thought about it for a while, whether I should say something, and after that I just… Maybe I shouldn’t have but I figured you deserved to know.”

Those were fears Bob had, too, reasons he’d kept his own feelings to himself as he realized you’d likely be assigned a new back seater and your time together would be cut in half, but knowing that you felt the same made it difficult for him to continue upholding that line of logic.

There was always a chance that you’d be separated - that you’d be sent in different directions, across the world from one another. To refuse to act on feelings that he now knew you shared out of fear for the unknown no longer seemed like the best course of action.

A thousand thoughts raced through his mind, poetic words that he could share to assure you he felt the same way, but nothing felt right. The only action he felt capable of in that moment was reaching out to cup your cheek. With your head tipped in his direction, eyes half-lidded in exhaustion, he leaned in to press his lips to yours in a soft kiss.

“I’m in love with you, too,” he confessed, voice soft as he pressed his forehead to yours. “I have been for a while. There are a thousand ways this can go wrong,” he acknowledged, “but that doesn’t feel like it matters when you love me, too.”

“Can we worry about the future tomorrow? Right now, I just want to be in love.”

Bob knew that the conversation was one you’d have to have sooner rather than later but he was glad to grant your request. The future was uncertain but one thing he knew now, clear as day, was that his love was not unrequited and that was enough to get through the night.

________________________________________________________

Author's Note: I started this ages ago but I finally finished it. Slowly but surely. Maybe I'll finish a few more requests before the end of the year!

Taglist: @lulu-noodles, @holachicos, @getmyprettynameoutofyourmouth, @withakindheartx, @ssprayberrythings, @verin93, @totalwitch2, @malindacath, @alexparkxr, @hangmandruigandmav, @alexxavicry, @calicokel, @jaymum, @dracosluvbot, @little-wiseone, @specialk6802, @mandylove1000, @julesclues, @archetypesoflife, @oliviah-25, @benhardysdrumstick, @caatheeriinee07, @yvespoems, @chloereidwayne, @flower-name​, @callsignharper​, @peoniarose​, @hangmanscoming​, @rh3tt​, @dakotakazansky​, @silversprings-mp3​

[eroset]

hello!! hole ur doing well, can i request top!m reader w beel from OM? smth involving lingeries n feminization maybe? tyyy<3

TYYYY FOR REQUESTING THIS I GOT CARRIED AWAY CZ I LUUUUUUV BEEL + LINGERIE + FEMINIZATION IT MAKES ME CRAZY KISSES KISSES u accidentally hit one of my favvvv things so idc that its outrageously long <33333 the typo is so funny i would be doing better with a hole. anyway i am doing well here is a gift just 4 u my love hee hee i hope u like itttt🙈

cw: chest/nipple play (c. receiving), chestjob (r. receiving), oral (r. receiving), feminization, praise. ended up making reader more of a soft dom than just a top so 4give me if you did not want that <33

minors dni!

"what is this?"

on his knees in front of your closet in the aftermath of a failed stashed snack raid, beelzebub holds up a fine strip of fabric; a shimmering piece from a lingerie set that costed more than your life, probably.

"oh, that's from asmo. he said i could break it in."

beel gives you a blank look as you speak. "break it in?" and you see his hands tense toward the literal, flexing in a manner as if he intends to shred the fabric. your hand shoots out to grab his wrist, though you know your own strength won't stop him.

"as in use!" you breathe out a sigh of relief when he stops.

"why couldn't asmo use it? isn't it his?" he holds it up to inspect it properly. it's a white, lacy thing with a delicate trim that catches in the light. it's transparent and gauzy in places, with silk ribbons to hold it all together. it's pretty.

not functional, though. asmo had been given a boxed promotional set in an array of sizes, many of which were much too big for him, and much too expensive to just brazenly throw out. he'd opted instead to pawn gift them to you.

beel frowns when you explain this. runs a thumb over the fabric, thoughtful. "it doesn't look too big."

you grin. "he said the top half was way too big for him. he doesn't like women's lingerie, says it fits weird on him. it'd probably fit you, though." you stand from your crouched position beside him, ruffling his hair. "your chest is like a girl's, anyway. guess you're luckier than he is."

and something clicks.

...

it takes months from then for him to work up to this.

for someone like beelzebub, who is simple in his pleasures, who doesn't bother thinking over what he would and wouldn't theoretically like (what's the point?), who is instead content in sticking to what he knows feels good and basks in it, this is a step in a direction he doesn't know what to make of.

but he doesn't see the point thinking too much about it, because if it feels good, then what does it matter?

and it does feel good. it felt good when you said it so easily with him on his knees: your chest is like a girl's, anyway. and when you joked during levi's boring tabletop roleplaying game on your character's twist royal lineage, when asked who your princess would be, your hand flirtily on his knee under the table: beel, i guess. and after one of his work out sessions, when his shirt rode up and you zeroed in on it like a moth to a flame, smoothed a hand thoughtfully over his waist: like one of those bikini models in mammon's fashion magazines.

and it feels good now, when you have him seated on your lap on your couch like something precious, dressed up for you in white lace and silk.

beel doesn't feel self-conscious, even when he's wearing so little. the lingerie fits him well, as you'd predicted. the bralette of the dress clings to his chest, stretched tight over his pecs and fanning out in a pretty skirt that he can't help but fidget with. the suspender belt and stockings were a fight to get on, but they make his legs feel smooth, and he likes the way your eyes darken when you gaze over his skin pudging out of the tight straps crossing up his thighs.

"no," he says with a shake of his head, and he leans forward a little, into you, still towering over you. it's a wonder how you can make him feel small and cherished when he's so much bigger than you are. his thick thighs splay across your hips, and they tense when you run your hands over them.

"you look like a doll," you say with a smile, and that look is in your eye again. it makes his stomach hot. your finger hooks under one of the straps on his thigh and pull it taut. it pops back against his skin with a snap!, and he jumps. you smile at that, too. it makes his stomach hotter.

he sits still while your hands work over him, smoothing and cupping over his body. sometimes over the lingerie and sometimes under, and the touches are long and hot enough for him to end up with him starting to get hard, tense in the way he always gets when he wants friction but wants even more to behave for you. it feels weird to be stroked like this, like you really are admiring the craftmanship of a doll, or maybe just groping him like a pervert, but it's not unpleasant.

"it fits you so well." you pinch and stoke up his waist, just under the hem of the bralette, and he finally realizes your intent when he sees your eyes fix on his chest. "especially here." oh, but he's always too quick to get worked up when you play around with him like this.

"um, wait," he says, hands flying to circle your arms, but your palms are already cupping the meat of his pecs firmly, and he jerks forward without meaning to. instead of pulling them away, all he can do is cling to your forearms when you make a massaging motion. heat coils in him and he releases a heavy sigh. "i..."

you look back up at him, feigning innocence. "is something wrong?"

"no, i just- ah," he mumbles, suddenly embarrassed. his knees try to knock together but only end up squeezing your hips. "my chest..." his tongue sticks to the roof of his mouth.

beelzebub doesn't continue. your hands continue their motions, kneading his pecs with the firm intent of making him blush and shudder in your lap, and of course it works - his chest has always been sensitive. his arms shake when they circle your head to rest his forearms along the back of the couch, leaning into your touch.

he chokes out a sound when your thumbs finally press over his nipples, and his hips stutter into yours. you rub them in short, firm circles that make him purr, boneless against you, feeling much too hot to really lament getting hard so quickly. you've always liked to exploit this weakness of his.

your hips cant up into his hips and he whines against your neck open-mouthed as you roll them between your thumbs. "that was fast."

"uh-huh," he pants. he rolls his hips firmly and without rhythm, just seeking friction - you haven't reprimanded him for it, so he's not doing anything wrong, right? he continues rocking eagerly.

"i was right about what i said before," you coo into his ear, a distraction from your nips and squeezes at his nipples between your fingers. "your chest is like a girl's." and you press down on them again, hard, and buck your hips up just right, and he melts against you with a sweet moan.

it's a short-lived pleasure. he grumbles a confused sound when you push him back, leaning him back in your lap. his cock is hard and heavy, straining up against his white panties, but they must be enchanted to stay in place. he jerks forward without meaning to when you give his chest one final squeeze, a glint in your eyes.

"i wanna see what else i can do with them."

...

beelzebub sits dutifully between your spread thighs, ignoring the fire in his gut in favor of staring in anticipation at your cock tenting against the zipper of your jeans.

"it tastes weird," he complains as you swipe your thumb under his lower lip, wiping away any wayward pink. but his eyes remain glued to your cock, and he swallows reflexively.

"not about how it tastes. it's supposed to make you look pretty." you cap the lipstick and set it aside. (or was it lip gloss? he doesn't know the difference.)

beel squirms a little and finally tears his gaze from your bulge, hands tentatively squeezing your knees. "do i?" he asks quietly. he looks away when you meet his gaze, bashful. "do i look pretty like a..." you've called him pretty in the past, but this time...

your hand catches on his jaw and force his head back to look at you. "like a girl?" you clarify, and your grip softens with a fond smile when he slowly and bashfully nods. your thumb presses against his lips, despite being so careful in your application of color, and he opens it pliantly. "you look like a very pretty girl, beel."

"oh," he breathes, your thumb pressed firmly on his tongue while your knuckles hold under his chin, keeping his mouth open. he squeezes your knees again and clenches his own together and his eyes once more fall down when your other hand drifts to your zipper.

he should be embarrassed about the way he salivates when your cock springs free, especially since you can feel it when you hold his mouth open. you fist your cock and stroke it slowly, watching as he swallows reflexively around nothing, and his spine tingles when you chuckle lowly.

"sit still, beel." you warn, and pull him toward your cock and angle it properly for him, just enough to almost graze the hot head of it against his tongue. you say something else but just the smell of you so close to him has his brain sparking. all he can do is nod to whatever you said, sharp and jerky, eyes wide and begging.

but you still don't release him. you keep your grip on his chin, holding him in place as you slowly and firmly stroke yourself, head angled toward his tongue, so close, as if you were just going to cum over his tongue and he whines low, now confused. you knew how much he loved you in his mouth- what were you doing?

you smile as beel squirms, this time shifting to angle your hips up a little. but when you pull him forward, you pull him up- away from your cock, and the momentum pulls his chest forward, cushioning it against your stomach. you sigh at the feeling and release his mouth, which is drooling freely.

"like this," you murmur, your hands guiding his to the sides of his chest. he pushes his pecs together as you direct him to, wobbling a little on his knees before he steadies himself.

his eye snap from your cock sandwiched between his pecs to your face a little frantically once he realizes that you aren't, in fact, going to throatfuck him. "but-"

"not yet, baby," you croon, like he's so silly for wanting your cock in his mouth instead of between his tits. "said i wanted to play with your chest more, didn't i? you're doing so good."

one of your hands grips his hair at the back of his head, not enough to hurt, just to steady him. the other wiggles between where you're connected; you fiddle with the ribboned straps of his bralette, feeding your cock underneath it to hug it firmly between his pecs, and he shudders when you rub one of his nipples with a thumb for good measure before you lean back.

like this, you direct, and beel can't help but obey you when you manhandle him in in how to move. it's a much tighter fit than he thought it'd be- the meat of his chest already pops a bit between the ribbons, made all the tighter with the heat of your thick cock pulsing between them. he's clumsy at first, not sure how tight to squeeze or how fast to move, but he gains a slow and steady rhythm after a while, one that makes you coo in approval.

the sight of it is mesmerizing, your fat cockhead thrusting in and out of his pecs with a slick pop every time it reappears. it's hot and sticky from his drool, which makes for an easier glide, and soon he's getting into it too, panting a little every time he goes down.

and with you groaning above him, his own arousal is long forgotten in favor of chasing yours.

you thrust your hips up once when he strokes down and your cock hits his chin, smearing against his lips; he gasps and heat floods him at the taste, the way it always does. his tongue sticks out reflexively, swirling around the head of your cock, and when you don't scold him he moans around it, head bobbing down.

from this position he can't take much, but even just the inch he gets in his mouth is amazing. he sucks it dutifully, reverently, and massages his chest around you, coaxing your cock to spit more delicious precum against his tongue.

"fuck," you wheeze, and beelzebub gargles a moan when you thrust up higher. "your mouth's so fucking hot." your tone makes his hole clench, but before he can really get into it, the grip you have on his hair pulls his head off. he suckles at your head as you pull out, a strand of saliva connecting your pulsing head to his mouth.

he licks his lips greedily, savoring the flavor, and pants open-mouthed when you thrust between his chest. "more," he whines, tongue hanging out to catch your cockhead every time you thrust up. he squeezes his pecs together and bounces them on your cock, eager for your cum, and moans when you hiss in pleasure.

"jus' like that," you slur, rocking your hips with him. "so good, you're doing so good."

he sucks at your head greedily whenever it reaches his mouth, tonguing your slit and laving it with care, all the while pinching and rolling you in his chest. his hips buck against one of your calves clumsily, more of an afterthought to the pleasure of his mouth, and he chokes on his spit when you abruptly shove his head down, feeding your cock in deeper.

"take it," you grunt, and he sucks you into his mouth as deep as he can with his chest in the way. it's wet and sticky from drool and precum, and your balls slap noisily against the underside of his pecs every time he bounces them down. it's lewd but he doesn't care, too caught up in the wet heat of everything to focus on anything else but your voice and your cock throbbing against his chest and the way your free hand thumbs at one of his nipples. "that's it, take it, swallow it all like a good girl."

he does so obediently, moaning all the while, swallowing down the thick load you give him, hot and sticky in his mouth, like a good girl. he can feel everything, every throb of your lipstick-peppered cock between his chest as you thrust into him, every pulse of your heavy balls against the satin ropes crossing his chest as your cock spits rope after rope of sticky cum over his tongue and the back of his throat. he doesn't stop, milking you for as much cum as he can get; swirls his tongue against your head as he sucks, head bobbing, massaging his tits around you. the extra attention makes it last longer than most of your orgasms, and you grunt and roll your hips with him, prolonging it for as much as you can. his eyes roll. he's in heaven.

finally, you eventually pull beel off, this time with more effort- he suckles you all the while, greedy to keep you in, and finally separates with a final yank and a satisfying pop. “tastes so good.” he drools, still panting, rubbing his cheek against your thigh, a slow, satisfied look creeping into his dewy eyes.

he rubs his cheek against your palm happily when you settle it down on him, like a cat, not caring about the smearing of drool or lipstick or cum. the heat in him hasn't quelled, but he's more sated now with a bellyful of your hot cum. his favorite snack. your other hand fidgets with his chest and he squeaks when you tweak his nipples, pulling your cock free from under his lingerie with a lewd, sticky sound.

he almost thinks you're done until you knock your calf up, right against his cock- he moans suddenly and jerks his hips down to meet you, gripping your spit-stained jeans.

"we're not done yet, don't worry." your fist returns to his hair and pulls him up higher and higher, knee firm between his legs, until you can pepper his jaw with kisses. "don't you want me to fuck you like a good girl, too, beel?"

[spiralinghours]

“Personal Assistant” Pt 5

Fandom: Saw franchise

Characters/Pairings: Mark Hoffman x fem/afab reader

Rating: R

Tags/Warnings: cunnilingus! face riding/nose riding! mild daddy kink, switchy dynamics, bratty behavior, general snarky banter, boss x assistant relations, mild size difference kink, Hoffman being characterized as a slutty bisexual New Jersey dilf

Summary: Picks up immediately after part 4 where Hoffman is at your home and you “get comfortable” with him.

Author’s Notes: This is a recent birthday gift to myself but you all may enjoy too lol

“You’re so demanding, you know?” you grumbled, though mostly in jest, as you watched Hoffman flop onto his back on your bed. The impact of his mass made the frame creak ever so slightly and the silky beddings flutter.

He looked too comfortable—you had to roll your eyes at how smugly content he made himself—suit jacket long since peeled off with care. He left the suspenders, belt, and tie mostly intact, knowing you had a weakness for such accoutrements (and plucking them off). You could even picture the little sock garters tucked up under his pants.

“Demanding? I need somewhere to lay back if you’re, uh… hoppin’ on.”

“I have a perfectly good couch.”

“Baby, you know I’m too big to lay back comfortably on the couch.” He knew what he was doing in saying that. He was getting under your skin, burrowing deep into you.

“You’re spoiled,” you tutted harshly with the tiniest of grins.

“You’re so mean, sweetheart. You gonna be mean to your boss?” That dumb amusement dimpled up the sides of Hoffman’s face.

“Yes, because you wouldn’t fire me. You would never. Besides, you love me being mean to you, you pervert.” You hiked up your fitted skirt (too familiar a motion with him) as you began to crawl atop him.

“Oh do I?” He plucked at the exposed garter straps hooked into your stockings.

“Yeah, you pig. Surprised you never thought to just hire a dominatrix.”

“Such a tongue on you. You’re a little extra this evening, huh? Be nice to Daddy. Anyways, you know how expensive dommes are? And they don’t even do paperwork!”

“Ah, so what I’m understanding is I deserve a raise.”

“I’ll make a case to the captain,” Hoffman huffed, sneering lips teasing with attitude. His wide palms spread, smoothing up from your thighs to your backside. “Now, why don’t you get comfortable?”

You inched your way up, trying to gently settle your thighs over his shoulders, on either side of his head (though it wouldn’t matter how gentle you were in a minute).

Hoffman fidgeted his thick fingers into the hem of your underwear, lowering them down for just enough access before you took your seat. “Go ahead, baby. All the way. Fuckin’ smother me.”

You rolled your eyes at his excitement, endearing as it actually was.

You were immediately met with that stupid, pointed nose pushing right into your clit, and those fat, whore lips sucking and kissing into your folds, prying at the entrance. You also realized you were somewhat vocalizing these observations, as you felt Hoffman groan into your pussy at “fat, whore lips”.

He detached momentarily to speak, twisting his face for just enough room to breathe. “You got a way with words, darlin’. Jesus. You make me sound like a slut.”

“You are. Keep eating.”

You felt the muffled “Yes, Ma’am” vibrate through as you pressed yourself harder against your boss’s face. His voice had enough of a soft but harsh rumble that you wished he was able to say more… But his tongue was becoming too engaged for that.

The position was just right—pristine, even. Hoffman curled his tongue deep into you, lips still sucking, as if he was ardently trying to swallow down a thick milkshake. You ground down so roughly on his nose in an up-and-down manner that gave you that sweet, intense build up. The friction, the heat… So delicious.

Part of what drove you further was the idea of him lapping you up like a begging dog, despite his upper hand with authority and size. No, you were taking the reins here.

His large hands fluttered all around, but often revisiting your ass for a secure squeeze and the extra bit of encouragement to press more weight upon his face.

Hungry, frantic, so eager to come, you rutted fervidly against his nose until you felt like you were going to see stars. The warmth and the wetness came as you let out a satisfied groan. You couldn’t help but twitch at the remaining waves of your orgasm, only spurred on by the sensation of Hoffman lapping up your release. You slid off his face, settling back down on his chest.

Saliva slicked and gleamed down his chin, across his smirking mouth. He licked his tongue around the mess left on his face as if it was frosting off a cupcake.

“Is this the part where you kick me out?” he joked, face still flushed in a haze.

“Hmm, maybe. I can’t let you getting too comfortable.”

Hoffman slid his hands up over his mostly exposed chest, tracing the scar over his left pec. “I suppose I can’t convince you otherwise?”

He did look good, all dark, solemn features wrapped in formal wear spread out on your pastel sheets… His scent of cigarettes, Drakkar Noir, and a hint of garage grease intermingling with your own… But you had to keep him on his toes.

And at any rate, whatever it was going on wasn’t serious enough to imply he should stay. But… it wasn’t entirely out of the question. Just not tonight.

“Next time we have dinner, I’ll consider it,” you informed him.

“Oh, we’re doing dinner again?”

“Don’t act like you hate the idea.”

“Whatever you say, babydoll.”

[quinloki]

Kinktober 2023 - Day 17

Whether you like it or not, this will leave you in... In knots.

Character: Eustass Kid Reader: cis!fem Warnings: Begging, degradation, calling Kid Master, being called good girl, spanking, suspension bondage, rough sex, knotting, use of toys, nipple clamps, over-stimulation - it's a finale - 18+

Summary: The conclusion of Naughty Mouse and Knotted Mouse - Kid's made a toy that's going to satisfy you in a monstrous way. -:- 2166 words

part 1 -:- part 2 -:-part 3

Knotted Mouse

After checking that nothing was going numb, Kid set a bench underneath you, giving you a break from being suspended. He’d stepped away, just for a moment, he promised, and you were heating up with anticipation.

He’d called you a good girl, and after everything else you knew it meant whatever he was getting it was going to be something fun.

“Still doing good, Mouse?” He questions as he comes back into the room.

“Yeah,” you say it breathier than you mean to, and there’s an interesting silence that follows for a moment before you twitch and moan as Kid slips a finger inside your soaking pussy without warning.

“That anticipation’s killin’ ya’, isn’t it Mouse?” He teases, working a second finger inside of you, putting his metal hand on the bench and leaning over you as he finger fucks you. “Listen to how noisy you are.”

“I’m ha-hardly,” squish, sclurp, squelch. The wet messy sounds of his fingers inside you gets louder as Kid proves his point. You feel heat rush through your body and turn your head enough to look at him, even if it’s a little shyly. “Don’t tease me please, I can’t take anymore.”

Kid’s brows raise and he grins. “That’s right,” he says, dragging out the word as though something is just now dawning on him. “You haven’t cum since you started teasing me.”

Oh shit.

“You must be desperate.” He pulls his fingers out of your cunt and grabs your ass, kneading his fingers into your skin.

You press your lips together, trying desperately not to whimper at his words. There were times when you fed the beast, and there were times when you needed a little self-preservation for your own sanity.

“Don’t get quiet on me now,” he practically grumbles. “I’m edging the fuck out of you either way.”

“Ah, no, no, wait – Kid, PLEASE!” You twist in the ropes trying to turn toward him better. It took an hour for him to get you tied up and suspended, and you two had been teasing and pleasing one another for a while before that even started.

You spent most of the game night wet too, but you weren’t going to bring that up, that was – admittedly – your own fault.

“Please, please don’t edge me, I’ll lose my min-aahhh-umph!” Kid moved the bench out of the way quickly and you had a split second of weightlessness before the ropes snapped tight again.

“Who won the bet, Mouse?” He questions, running his hand along your leg.

“You did, you won the bet, Kid. Master!” You correct as his fingers get a little too close to the soles of your feet.

“Cavin’ pretty easily there, Mouse.” He muses. You can hear the triumph in his voice, the way he’s using your nickname almost like a whip, snapping it against your brain and making your whole being shiver.

“It’s… It’s true though,” you pant, shivering as his hand wanders over your body. “I’m buh-begging, Kid, please… please just fucking ruin me. I can’t take it anymore, I need you.”

“That’s quite the declaration,” Kid muses, smacking your ass before you can say anything. “Well, it’s a good thing you’re begging for me to fuck you up. I was going to use this anyway.”

He stands in front of you so you can see the “toy” he’s wearing. It’s like a cock-ring, except it looks more like a bulb than the usual style of ring. It’s held in place like a strap-on, with a stretchy harness taut against Kid’s hips and thighs.

“What’s… what’s that supposed to be?” You question, looking up to see a devious smile on his face.

“I’ve been thinking about how to make some of your monster fucker fantasies come true.” He explains evenly.

It takes a moment for you to put two and two together.

“It’s… it’s a knot?” Kid hums affirmatively as the question leaves your lips, and you feel your stomach knot and your pussy drool.

��It’s also going to be a good test.” He admits, walking away from your view and spreading your legs wide as he takes up position between your thighs.

“A good, good test for what?” You stammer, the head of his cock sliding along the slick of your pussy lips.

“Two cocks in yer sweet lil’ cunt, Mouse.” He answers thrusting his cock into you. He buries himself deep inside you, stopping short of what you’re used to.

Even with how wet you are, he’s so thick you’re crying out in surprise, pleasure and a dull ache from the stretch. The toy he’s wearing presses against you, but doesn’t enter you. Kid grinds against you a little and you can feel the toy give, it’s not completely solid, there’s some squish to it.

“Fuck, you always feel so good,” he nearly growls, hands flexing against your thighs. “But I need to make sure you’re blissed out and sopping fucking wet for this.”

Kid pulls out and you can’t help the whimper that escapes you.

“Aww, poor thing.” He grunts, and you feel him push something against your clit. “Shit I’m going to have to use a lot of tape to keep this in place, you’re so soaked.” He grumbles a little, taping the rotor to your clit with medical tape.

“Don’t worry, once I clip these into place, I’ll get back to railing the sense out of you.” He promises, hand rubbing your tummy a little before he shifts.

“Clip?” You question looking down to see him with nipple clamps that had small vibrators attached. Your squirm and twist in the ropes. “That’s – that’s going to be too much, Kid! Kid, kuh-come on, have some mercy!”

He gives you a look, clamp open and near one of your nipples. “Aren’t you curious, Mouse?”

Your body flexes and rolls in the room and you make a conflicted sound, looking away for a minute. There’s no sound from Kid, no movement while you take your moment. He doesn’t clear his throat or say anything, but you know he’s watching you.

“I am.” You finally admit, in a very small, nervous voice.

“That’s my girl.” He praises you. “I’ll take good care of you Mouse, don’t worry.” He twists and moves so he’s under you, licking and teasing your nipples with his mouth, sucking and nipping until he’s satisfied.

Then he adds the clips, putting them on a little more gently than usual, flicking at the small vibrators and listening to you hiss and moan at the strange mix of stimulation and pain. He kisses a line up the middle of your chest, nipping at your neck and finally kissing you deeply. Kid was big, in every sense of the word, but he was powerful and flexible too – probably thanks to Killer’s workouts more than anything he’d done on his own, but it made it easier for him to twist and brace the both of you in all manner of otherwise awkward positions with ease.

But maybe it was wrong to give Killer too much credit, when it came to kink, Kid was king.

Moving out from under you he moves back behind you, settling between your thighs again. He teases you this time, having thrust in so fast the first time, now he’s moving the head of his cock against your slit slowly. You know what he’s prompting you to do, and you’re not going to deny him right now.

“Kiiiid, please.” You whine, shifting just a little. “Please don’t tease me, just… just fuck me please!”

“Fuck it’s always better when you beg for it.” He growls and you hear a click before all three vibrators roar into life and Kid fills you up, slapping the knotty cock ring against you. You vaguely feel him set the remote on the small of your back before he grips the ropes and your hips and starts to thrust into you roughly.

The rotor taped to your clit made every twitch and thrust of his cock deep in your pussy feel like it was sending lightning through your body. The clips on your nipples jerked and swayed from the thrusts, tugging at your pinched and throbbing nipples and sending jolts straight into your chest.

Kid seemed to be intent on pumping that knot-styled cock ring into you like a piston. It’s no more painful than the usual rough sex shared between you from time to time, but part of you wanted it inside you already. You wanted to know what it felt like.

You’d imagined the idea before plenty of times. Read plenty of stories with it as part of the action, and even read a few comics. You never expected to be on the receiving end, and you had certainly never had any intention of asking Kid to make something for you. That he’d made it for you, completely unprompted, was hot.

“Fuck – haaa – fuck!” You gasp as the pleasure starts to build. The tingle in your body as the orgasm built was making the sting and ache of the nipple clamps stronger. The pleasure would build, then abate a little at the fresh sting, only to build again, and abate again. It was making your climb toward orgasm longer than usual.

“You’re… dripping onto the floor… Mouse.” Kid says between grit teeth. “Squeezing me too, damn.” He leans forward, gripping his hands around your breasts, taking care not to accidentally pull the clips off, and pulls you up. The ropes are holding your limbs in place, but you’re no longer suspended, Kid has you completely.

The vibrator against your clit, the rough thrusts from Kid as he slams you onto the knot that isn’t going in yet, and the tingle of the vibrations against your stinging nipples. It’s all so much all you can really do is focus on trying to breathe through it. The sloppy wet sound of every slap, your thighs are coated in your pleasure as they slap against his.

“It’s! It’s gonna!” You gasp, feeling the knot starting to push in. “I’m gonna cum!” You’re caught between curiosity and concern, but the pleasure from everything else is too much for concern to keep you taut.

You lost what little control you had of your limbs as pleasure flooded through you. The cold metal of Kid’s hand, the hot grip of his flesh hand, the vibrations, and the rough thrusts. Your toes curled and your body shuddered in his grasp, your arms flexed against the ropes and silent ecstasy dripped from your tongue as you came.

Kid didn’t stop, and panting gasps were pushed from your lungs as he continued to rail you. Your orgasm turned from a sharp, mind-hazing pleasure, into something that relaxed you, even with the continued stimulation, and that was all the new toy needed.

One well-angled thrust shoved the knot into your sopping cunt with a strange wet sound. The stretch was intense. The only reason you didn’t scream was because you were sucking in a breath in surprise. Your body arched back and you clamped down on the knot and Kid as your body went taut again. You nearly came a second time, swears falling from your mouth in delicious turmoil as Kid fucked you and the toy at the same time.

“Fuckin’ hells, look at it, stayin’ in place.” You can hear amusement in his voice, and effort. “Cum again, Mouse. Cum with me this time.” He commands, pulling the nipple clamps off your chest.

The blood rushes back into your nipples, sending pins and needles all through your chest as Kid fucks you with a faster, but shorter pace. His tip is hitting you deep, and the knot’s barely shifting around inside you.

Kid’s right arm braces across your chest and you hear his metal arm shearing through the ropes. They go slack around you and he pulls your back against his chest, his metal hand on your lower abs, one idle metal pinky pushing the rotor into your clit firmly.

The warmth, the contact, the pleasure, the feeling of his hot skin against yours, sweat soaking into the ropes as rough, almost growling breaths crash against your neck. Kid clutches you to his body desperately, thrusts becoming shaky and erratic.

Soft, whining gasps are pushed from your lungs, dribbles of your impending orgasm falling from your lips that you can only hope he hears. Sharp pain in the side of your neck as Kid bites you, pleasure flooding your body as his cock floods your cunt.

There’s nothing else but his growl, and your cry of euphoria.

As the tension gives way to warm, soothing pleasure, Kid sinks to his knees, holding you against his chest still. You can feel his heart thundering in his chest, both of you breathing heavy. Both of you spent. A hot tongue slips over the bite marks, soft kisses following along it as you both wordlessly catch your breath.

You’d never been happier to lose a bet.

[ranger-tater]

Quivers! (but jumbled because I’m writing this at work before the thought leaves)

Probably one of my favourite things to talk about next to the bows and arrows themselves. It’s a topic that’s been beaten to death by just about every archer on the internet and I’m no exception. Just instead how it relates to my beloved silly guys instead of historical accuracy or trying to gatekeep ‘real archery’ (cough Lars Anderson cough. He’s problematic as it is anyways.)

All quivers have issues, there’s pros and cons to all of them, and just plain personal preference. As well as what the task at hand is. (Shooting from a relatively fixed position, horseback archery, hunting, skirmishing, etc.) Also the quality of the quiver, but that isn’t as much as a point at the moment. We’ll assume that our beloved fantasy archers are capable of making a quiver properly. (Not too stiff, holds the arrows nicely - like collapsing in on itself, having clips/slits for the shafts - Being made to fit the body, and can move with it - especially important for back quivers)

Also extra points for pouches! Love me a quiver with a nice pouch on it. Even more points for a lil knife on the quiver strap!

I believe back quivers are more or less perfect for rangers. Regardless of if it’s Flanagan or Tolkien’s. I’m sure there’s other media that has a bit of emphasis on rangers, but I am yet to digest it in any meaningful capacity, and I can purple prose the hell out of my archery in DnD. (Also there’s not enough I can judge in most top down crpgs that I’ve played.)

By side quiver I am referring to quivers attached at the belt or close to the waist, suspended vertically and . Quivers slung over the shoulder that sit more or less horizontally by the waist are a separate matter, but similar criticisms can be applied.

I might be slightly biased, or at least come off as biased. I almost solely use a back quiver when I’m going out. If I’m just target shooting then I usually have my arrows in a tube on the ground, in my bow hand, or laying on the ground. Sometimes in my belt. The woods that I frequent are extremely thick, and I imagine thicker than the average wood that we find in Flanagan or Tolkien’s worlds. Especially the former. I have had issues of my arrows snagging on branches and such, but that’s more a problem of being 6ft and not bending down low enough when I passed them, rather than entirely the quiver’s fault. But with a side quiver, I’d likely be getting more snagged on things, as there’s plenty of saplings, plants, and bushes, as well as deadfalls to try and avoid. Especially if the quiver, and thus arrows, are held at more of an angle. If the quiver is straight up and down then there is less issue in that regard, but there’s still some problems.

Ultimately Using a quiver, regardless of style, in any thick, overgrown area is going to be a pain in the ass. (We’re excluding bow quivers here, because they’re relatively modern and also wouldn’t be ideal for any fighting.) Just going through it with anything but the bare minimum of attire would be a problem, add a strung or even unstrung bow, quiver, sword belt, and a cloak, and you’re in a world of hurt. In Halt’s Peril this is a rather important part of the story, where a cloak and all of the gear with it causes trouble in an egregiously dead and thick forest.

I personally enjoy how free my hands are when using a back quiver, I might have to tuck it under my armpit when crouching through brush, and pay extra mind when I’m passing lower hanging branches (which I have to do anyways) but I think it’s worth it. Also I can comfortably run without having to worry about being tripped by my quiver, and I don’t have to hold it to my side in case arrows want to try and spill, or back in this case. I usually do hold the strap when running, but that’s a matter of personal comfort. I also think that back quivers are simply much more comfortable for travelling, and period photos/artwork of native Americans seem to have the same conclusion.. and most people. Bags are usually worn on the back or at least slung over a shoulder. We generally seem to agree that weight is best supported on the shoulders and out of the way. Even at a walk, having a quiver at my side is extremely uncomfortable past a few yards/a short walk, and I’m constantly fussing about it.

Though most of my own issues are personal preference, and things I’ve noticed that can be problematic in my time in the woods. This is only about my take on rangers/general hunters and woodsmen. There’s a lot of things that side quivers are perfect for! There’s nothing wrong with liking them or other styles of carrying arrows as long as they aren’t dangerous to you, your bow, or others.

Finally, onto the rangers, Ashitaka, Ötzi (guh he’s so sexy), and some miscellaneous things.

Flanagan’s rangers mostly use back quivers throughout Ranger’s Apprentice, in connection with a cloak. Which wear their quivers beneath cloaks, and probably have a flap on the cloak that opens to reveal the arrows or a slit (or both.) I am not entirely certain, as I haven’t read the books in a bit. Just going off of my own personal preferences, and usage. It seems pretty functional for them, but tbh I don’t think it really matters much about their quiver orientation, they’re written to be overpowered and close to superhuman lmfao. I think it’s safe to say though, that their quivers are probably in a Howard Hill or Bryon Ferguson style, if not as wide and a bit more compact, just going off of the capacity and such since we know they don’t use arrow bags. In The Royal Ranger it seems everyone’s pulled a Will Treaty and transitioned.. just to side quivers instead of something hot. Bleh. Of course for shooting off horseback it would make sense, but alternatively. Put arrows in the bow hand, or put the quiver on your saddle (I think that happens in TEY 1? But I might be misremembering. I for some reason remember Halt placing his quiver on the saddle pommel when driving off that Scotti raid.)

Aragorn! I’ll be going off of the movies here. Since Viggo is handsome. From my understanding, rangers like Aragorn are more or less wandering law bringers? They defend/patrol a significant portion of the lands, travelling light and on foot, and mostly providing their own food in place of rations. Aragorn himself wears a back quiver, which also stores his bow, he might have a separate sleeve for it but I don’t think so. It makes sense, travelling light, and as a swordsman mostly, he doesn’t need either getting in his way. Though his quiver is definitely a bit low, and he’d probably have to pull on the strap to get it all the way to comfortably draw an arrow, but that makes sense! There’s some longsword guards that you wouldn’t be able to perform with arrows in the way.

Ötzi the Iceman! My beloved discovery. His quiver was likely worn on the back, with an interesting design of a flap that covers the upper portion of the shafts, and can be easily enough flipped away to access them. Aside from looking so hot, the arrows are protected entirely, rain, mud, snow, and other muck can’t get in there and cause problems, or dampen feathers until the time to shoot. Ever a good feature to have. Imo a design that would be perfect for rangers/hunters/woodsmen/ or men herding sheep/goats like Ötzi might have done. (The man in the Ice, by Konrad Spindler mentions this as a possible occupation for the iceman.)

Ashitaka is a ranger and I won’t hear otherwise. He is practically perfect for it. His quiver design is much like Ötzi’s but without the flap or extra bits of storage. I also think the strap is much longer and of varying lengths he can tie. Seeing as he wears it slung across his shoulder in a sort of side quiver configuration when he’s mounted during the first fight with the samurai. All the same it’s functional and I love it and Ashitaka.

Indigenous cultures have a good amount of diversity in quivers. There’s everything! Back, side, over the shoulder, in a sort of belt across the waist in all manner of ways, Bow cases and bow sleeves in the quiver itself! There’s a lot of amazing stuff there. There’s a good few different styles of asiatic quivers as well, but I’m not so well versed in those! They’re just as cool and I would again recommend looking into them! Please ask me questions. Please.

Edit!!! I forgot to mention noise! If your quiver is made well, and holds arrows correctly, and you’re not running at a full sprint or jumping around. Then the fletchings aren’t likely to rub together too much, and even when they do, it won’t be terrible. There’s enough noise out there it might not be heard as long as the fletchings aren’t constantly brushing one another.

[i-arch-my-backula]

The monsters gone: Bo Sinclair x gn reader

I wanted to write something where I can comfort my sweet baby girls and I wanted to write for Vincent too. Sorry for not posting as much lately, I've been busy with school, work, and just daily life. Anyway I hope y'all like this, it's pretty short but oh well.

Warnings: Hurt/comfort, mentions of past trauma, Bo needs comfort in this but he doesn't want to ask, Trudy verbally and physically abuses Bo in this

"You are such a disappointment Bo," Trudy Sinclair says to her son. She's pacing around the kitchen while he sits at the table, fighting back tears. He knows crying will only make this worse, "You can't do anything right can you? I mean I should have known better than to get my hopes up on you! You're a failure and I shouldn't be surprised about it!" Trudy has been laying into Bo for ten minutes at this point. All because he got suspended for getting into another fight.

"Mama you don't understand. They were saying all these things to me and I just-" Bo stands up to explain himself and Trudy smacks him across the face. Although he doesn't feel the pain, he still sat back down and rubbed his cheek.

"Don't you ever talk back to me! You understand Bo?" He nods and she crosses her arms, "I swear I don't know what to do with you sometimes! When your father gets home you're in for it you little shit! All I did was love and care for you growing up but you never appreciated that! You're ungrateful and spoiled!" Bo has to look away from his mother for a moment. Unable to look her in the eye any longer.

"You look at me when I'm talking to you young man!" Trudy yells at him. He looks back up only to find his mothers face made of wax, slowly melting off her face and exposing red oozing muscles and blood underneath. Bo tries to scream but nothing comes out. He tries to pull away but his wrists and ankles are bound to the chair again. The leather straps sealed with duck tape. Blood pours from his wrists and he looks back in horror at his mother's slowly melting off wax face.

Bo shoots up in bed, his hair, face, and chest plastered with sweat. It takes him a few moments to really look around the room and understand he was just having a nightmare. He finally calms down when he sees your sleeping figure laying on the other side of the bed. He takes a deep breath and gets out of the bed, walking over to the bathroom. He takes a wash cloth and wipes off all of the sweat on his face and some of his hair. He looks in the mirror and tries to ground himself in the moment.

Eventually he comes back to the bedroom and gets back into bed. He looks over at you laying on your side, your back to him and he pulls you closer to his chest. You make a small noise and stir a bit. Bo only holds on tighter.

"What's wrong honey?" You ask quietly, barely even above a whisper. Bo presses a feather light kiss to your shoulder and shuts his eyes.

"Just had a bad dream is all. Go back to sleep, nothing is wrong." You shift again and roll over onto your other side. You wrap your arms around Bo. Either not noticing or not caring about the sweat that's on his chest. You rest your chin on his shoulder and begin to rub his back.

"You know I love you right?" You're met with a small nod, "I know you don't like talking about whatever bad dreams you have and I don't want to force you into telling me about them. But just know that I love you and I'm here if you ever need to talk." Bo nods again, letting a few tears fall from his eyes.

"I love you too honey."

[littlemourningstarr]

Magnificent

Gale had been clouded with lust, unable to even think, when he'd first strung Vette up in their bed. He hadn't expected the little experience to take an emotional turn.

Kinktober 2024, Day 17: "Restraints / Shibari / Suspension"

Read below or on AO3!

Pairing: Gale x Original Male Character

Part of the Eternally Yours series!

Tags: restraints, shibari, dom/sub, handjobs, self praise, kinktober, kinktober 2024

Gale had to step back, take a moment to enjoy his handiwork. Knelt on their bed, Vette was stark naked, a silken braided deep green rope intricately knotted around his body. It twisted from his wrists, which were held up high above his head, suspended by a single mage hand Gale had conjured, allowing him to give Vette some slack from the ropes if his shoulders began to ache.

The rope laced his arms together, knotted across his chest, emphasizing the muscle under his pecs, then down his belly, framing his cock, before it had his legs tied together. Vette’s ass was nestled directly to the bed, legs spread wide, his calves strapped to his firm thighs. He was breathtaking.

Gale had tied each knot himself, laid the rope across bare skin without a touch of magic. It was an art, to restrain someone like this- and oh, he truly thought the green was a nice touch. It complimented his tan skin, the silken red and gold scales along his body. 

And made those green eyes that were staring at Gale seem otherworldly.

“Is it too tight?” Gale asked, trying to keep his voice even. But gods, his heart was pounding against his ribs, his mind feeling foggy in a way it never did- so lust clouded he could barely think. The first whisper of rope dragging against Vette’s skin had had the wizard’s cocking stirring, and it was achingly hard now, straining in his pants. He was quite sure Vette could see its outline.

The sorcerer shook his head. He looked shockingly calm, for being restrained. But Vette had proven that he rather liked it when Gale took some form of control, from him. Trusted Gale enough that he could finally calm his racing mind.

The bloom of affection Gale felt in his chest over that was enough to supersede even his lust.

The wizard stepped closer to the bed, reached out and splayed his hand on Vette’s skin, enjoyed the heat radiating off him. He’d run hotter than any lover Gale had ever had, and the wizard couldn’t fathom how he’d survive, now, were he ever to try and sleep without the half-drow tucked against his chest, spreading the heat and making him drowsy. He had so quickly become everything that it should have been terrifying.

Instead, Gale was simply elated.

He dragged his hand down Vette’s chest, across his belly, felt the muscles there, before he followed the trail of blond hair to his groin. Vette was half hard- his thick cock swollen but still resting against one thigh. Gale made a point not to touch him there, but instead to hook his fingers along the rope as he leaned in, kissed Vette’s temple.

“Can I touch you?” he asked, and Vette tried to laugh, but it came out as a breathy gasp.

“You already are.”

Gale moved to kiss his jaw, crawling onto the bed himself, fingers ghosting along one thigh. “You know that’s not what I meant.” Vette worried at his lip, a delightful little habit he couldn’t break. It always sent a squirming tendril of lust to Gale’s belly. “Tell where to touch and I will. Tell me where not to touch, and I won’t.”

Vette shook his head, breathed everywhere. Gale curled an arm around his waist then, pressed himself to his sorcerer, sought out his mouth for the sort of kiss that left Gale’s mind like pure, molten weave. Vette was intoxicating, kissed with a feverish need that had Gale thinking he was just a desperate youth, all over again.

Vette made him feel incredibly young and yet full of years, and he was sure he would never understand how.

He moved his hands to his lover’s back, tracing down muscle and rope, pausing at the small of it. He stroked the dimples at the small of his back, before his hand slid further, cupped the man’s ass. Vette exhaled against Gale’s mouth, twisting slightly against the ropes- but not pulling away.

No, if anything, he was trying to get closer. He was trusting Gale. And Gale wanted nothing more than to make him feel good. He couldn’t use his tongue, at this angle, like he had before- he had quickly learned that Vette liked that, after the first night Vette had allowed him to use it on his hole. That night would forever be burned in Gale’s memory.

He couldn’t understand how anyone had ever treated Vette as anything other than sheer gold, a ray of fire and light directly from the heavens.

He released Vette’s ass, chose to pull his hands back, cradle his lover’s face as he kissed him again, sweetly. Vette sighed into it, and Gale couldn’t help himself, whispered you’re beautiful against his lips. He could feel the flush creeping along Vette’s cheeks, knew if he pulled back from his lips long enough to study his face it would be melding with the brilliant ruby of his scales.

“You want to deny it,” Gale offered, forcing himself back, so he could look Vette in his eyes. Vette managed a single nod, and Gale stroked his thumbs along his cheeks. “One of these nights, I’ll convince you to believe it.”

Instead of shrinking back as he might have once, Vette actually smiled, the kind that reached his eyes. “I’ll enjoy the process,” he admitted, and Gale chuckled.

“Cheeky little thing.” He moved his hands down Vette’s neck, over his chest again, pausing for a moment to roll his thumbs over his nipples. Vette squirmed a little, and Gale enjoyed the way the man’s shoulders and arms strained against the ropes. He let a hand slide lower, until he was grasping Vette’s semi-hard cock. The sorcerer groaned, head tipping back slightly, looking relieved as Gale touched him.

Gods, the wizard loved the feeling of his sorcerer growing hard in his hand. More often than not Vette was already hard by the time Gale got to touching him- such an eager little thing- that the few times Gale got to feel his cock actually swell against his palm, his fingers- it was a delight.

Vette tried to rock his hips, but couldn’t move with how his legs were bound. He was forced to be still as Gale stroked him slowly, precum quickly sliding along the wizard’s hand, making the movements quite easy.

Gale slowed, just as Vette began to pant, an idea sparking in him. He smiled, an almost smirk, and leaned in, pressed a kiss to Vette’s cheeks. “Tell me something good about yourself.”

“Wh-what?” Vette managed, voice husky. Gale’s hand stilled completely, and Vette again tried to squirm, but was unable to. “Gale, why did you stop?”

“Say something good about yourself, or I won’t start again.” To prove his point, Gale moved his hand completely from Vette’s cock, gripped his hip instead, thumb pressing against the crease that led from his pelvis to hip bone. Vette whined, but Gale only squeezed.

“I’m… I’m…” Vette hesitated, and Gale hated that this was hard for him. The man acted arrogant- he had the moment Gale first met him, but it was all false bravado.

“You’re a skilled weave user,” Gale filled in, leaning back to study him. “Try that.”

Vette swallowed thickly. “I’m a skilled weave user.” Gale watched some of that arrogance creep into his face. “Blessed, really.”

He didn’t believe that last bit, it was evident in the half-drow’s eyes.

Still, Gale reached back for his cock, gave him three slow strokes as a reward for trying. When he pulled away again, Vette gave a frustrated little cry. “Keep going,” Gale said, “if you want me to keep touching you.”

Vette huffed. “I… have nice handwriting.” Gale barked a laugh, but kept his word, sliding his fist along Vette’s cock very slowly. His sorcerer’s eyelids fluttered, a whispered oh when Gale rubbed his thumb over his cockhead, spreading his mess of precum.

“What else?”

Vette worried his lip again- and Gale lost control for a moment. He leaned in, kissed him breathless, taking that lip between his teeth and biting, getting Vette to shiver under his hold. Without meaning to he began to stroke faster, only caught himself when Vette began whining and whimpering into his mouth, desperate little sounds that always warned he was close.

Gale pulled his hand away completely, and Vette grunted. “Gale- this isn’t- it’s not fair.” Vette tried to kiss him again, but Gale stayed just out of reach. For a moment, the sorcerer looked almost angry- but it never reached his forest eyes. “Gods, fine, I throw a very good punch.”

The wizard nearly laughed, barely stifling a snort. Yes, he knew Vette did- he’d seen him in action.

He let his hand grasp Vette’s cock again, forced himself to stroke slowly, not to get too eager himself. Vette sighed, head hanging forward slightly. When Gale began to slow further Vette added quickly, “I have nice eyes.”

That had Gale smiling. With his free hand he brushed some of Vette’s hair back, having freed it from the sorcerer’s typical ponytail when he had first tied him up. “That you do, my dear.” He cupped the back of his head, stroking faster again.

Vette’s breathing grew faster, an almost-pant, as he added, “I am really good at sucking cock.”

Gale would have laughed if, perhaps, he didn’t have the man naked and tied up in his bed, and had the memory of Vette’s mouth taking his cock so eagerly from only the night before. He was more skilled with his mouth and tongue than any lover Gale had ever taken to bed.

Any lover.

Gale rolled his thumb along Vette’s head again, pushed at his slit slightly, watched him shiver. “Close,” the sorcerer barely whispered, eyelids fluttering, cheeks so flushed. He was beautiful, earth shatteringly so, and Gale wished he could just get him to believe it.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, again, and Vette gave an almost dreamy smile.

“You think I’m beautiful,” he countered, adding without a hint of fight, “and you’re the one who matters. I-” Vette broke off, moaning, trembling, and Gale noticed there were tears of need growing in the corners of his eyes. “I’m good enough for you to adore.”

Gale was struck with a mix of so many emotions- a trembling adoration for this man and such an immense sadness that Vette was still equating his worth to someone else’s feelings on him. But gods, if it had to be anyone, Gale would allow it to be him. Because he’d adore him until they were nothing but names on forgotten stones.

He kissed Vette for the countless time, as the tears brimmed over his lashes, traveled down his cheeks. Gale stroked him faster, swallowed down the sob Vette let out when he came finally- touched and held the man until Vette was slumping, pulling harder on his suspended arms, his shoulders straining.

Gale forced himself to pull his hand from Vette’s cock, grasping at his hip to steady him, not even thinking about the pearly cum he was smudging into his skin. Vette was gasping for breath, cheeks wet, as Gale stroked his hair back with his other hand.

“Let me get you down,” he whispered, but Vette shook his head.

“No… don’t.” It was soft, quiet. The sorcerer tried to take a steadying breath. “I… I’m okay. It doesn’t hurt yet.” he shifted his shoulders slightly, as if to indicate that he wasn’t in pain. “Can you just…” he trailed off, eyes darting to look away, tongue flicking at his lips, whatever ask was on his tongue stuck there.

Gale leaned his forehead against Vette’s. “I can do anything you need.”

Vette closed his eyes, and so softly, barely a whisper, a breath, asked, “Can you just tell me I’m good enough?”

Gale’s chest cramped up. “You’re more than good enough. You, my dear, my darling, my…” a word caught in Gale’s throat, one he wanted to suddenly scream at the man, but he kept it down. He didn’t want to overwhelm Vette, as he was. He needed some care, now. Gale hadn’t meant this little play session to affect Vette so deeply- gods, he had simply gone in blind with lust, wanting to see him strung up for his eyes to feast on. “You are magnificent.”

Vette closed his eyes, gave a little sigh, an almost laugh. “I almost believe you,” he whispered, “in fact… I think I believe you really believe that. That has to be enough, right?”

No, Gale didn’t think it was enough. Not forever. But for the moment, it could be. It had to be.