#baby's first fic!!!

[andwegogreen]

924 words, entirely inspired by this painting. historical/early 1900s, industrial town. daniel works at the factory and is heavily involved with the union/workers' rights. max is the eldest daughter of factory owner jos. thank you to @lilyrizzy and @thewindowatkirkland for cheerleading this <3

“Daniel, you need to leave. Go down to the pub, and we’ll come get you when it’s all done,” Michelle’s voice was loud, seemed too loud for Max, even as she couldn’t stop groaning in pain as another wave of it came over her. 

She had of course known that having a baby was not going to be easy, but it was never something she could’ve imagined. Victoria had told her as much as she could, having already had two babies of her own, but Max realised there was a big difference between hearing it and experiencing it, of truly understanding the pain. 

When Michelle’s words registered, she immediately grabbed onto Daniel’s wrist harder. 

“Don’t leave me, please, Daniel, you can’t leave-” 

“Maxy, I’m not gonna leave you I promise-” 

“-Daniel, you have to go, you can’t be here-” 

“‘Chelle, I swear to God, I am not leaving her. I am NOT!” Daniel never yelled, and maybe that was why Michelle gave up on arguing with him, instead leaving the room for a moment. 

Daniel crouched down next to Max, stroking her sweaty hair off her forehead and kissing her cheek gently. 

“I’m not leaving you, Maxy. I’ll be right here, yeah? Gotta be here to see you have our baby, don’t I?” 

Max could only nod helplessly as another wave of pain rushed over her, making her grab Daniel’s hand even harder. He kept stroking over her hair, whispering little things she could only half-make out: how much he loved her, how proud of her he was for this, how much he couldn’t wait to meet their baby, how he was never going to leave either one of them. 

The rest of it went by in a blur, but the only constant was Daniel. Holding her hand, stroking her hair, letting her lean back against him between pushes. And then she was there. Their daughter. Their perfect baby daughter, with ten little fingers and ten little toes. 

When the midwife placed her on Max’s chest, she could feel the heaving sobs from Daniel where he was pressed up against her. His big hands coming up to cover Max’s where they held their daughter so gently, his fingers stroking over her perfect little face. Neither of them could take their eyes off her, but Max leaned back ever so slightly, tilting her head to lean against Daniel’s as she whispered “she looks just like you”. 

It felt silly to speak louder than that, in the little bubble where only the three of them existed. Daniel’s chuckle shook through her body, the same way his crying did just moments before. 

“With a head like that, Maxy? She’s all you, through and through.” He whispered too, like he also couldn’t believe that this was happening, that this was real life. 

Max had to trace over her features, their perfect daughter’s perfect nose, the same way she always did with Daniel’s. 

“Not my nose though. This is of course yours.” 

“Your head and my nose, huh? Sounds like she’s ours then.” Max could hear the smile in Daniel’s voice, and she knew she had to see it. See his smile for the first time as a dad, in this new life for them. It was bigger and brighter than she could’ve ever imagined, even bigger than the first time he said he loved her, even bigger than on their wedding day. 

Easy as anything, Max reached out to place their daughter into Daniel’s arms for the first time. The same strong arms that had worked so hard for so many years, to provide for his parents and his sister and her children, and now for their little family, for their child. 

Daniel managed to tear his eyes away from the baby and meet Max’s properly for the first time. Seeing his smile widen, seemingly an impossible feat at that point, was enough to make her laugh, almost in disbelief. This was real. They were here. They had a daughter now. 

“So we’ve got our little Sophie, huh Maxy?” 

Even hearing the name out loud, the name that had been her mother’s, that would now be her daughter’s, was enough to bring fresh tears to her eyes. 

It had been so many years now since her mother had passed, but Max still missed her every day. She couldn’t help but wonder how she would feel about the woman Max had grown into, if she’d be proud. Max would like to think her mother would be. 

In the years they’d gotten with her, Sophie had always been loving and attentive, stepping in when their father thought she should leave it to the nannies. Max remembered curling up into her mother’s side as Sophie read her and little Victoria bedtime story after bedtime story, always agreeing to their pleas of “just one more story, mummy, please”, and how safe she’d felt there, hidden away from the coldness of her father. 

Max already knew that her daughter wouldn’t have those same experiences. She was so lucky to have Daniel as her father, would never know anything but love and support and warmth from him. 

Max could already picture him practicing his reading in preparation for her stories at bedtime, fighting the jumbled up letters for her. Max could also already picture how she’d join in, laying in the middle with Daniel’s head on one shoulder and little Sophie’s on the other, soothing them both to sleep with the same stories her mother once read her. 

[keferon]

Guys they’re. They’re speaking doorwings

Tf one gave me Jazz with wings so now I’m giving you more of Jazz with wings~

[moshaeu]

from a breath before the fall

[a-most-beloved-fool]

tos jim kirk is very funny to me because he is so bad with children. you'd think he'd be good with them, but he isn't. i think he probably likes them well enough, he just. doesn't know how to talk to them. not one bit. has no idea how to interact. kids can tell he's trying, but he's bad enough at it that they don't really like him more for it. type of guy who you'd hand a baby to, and he'd hold it out in front of him with stiff arms. like, um. what do i do with this. he could be coached on proper holding technique, but he'd still look visibly uncomfortable the whole time.

tos spock is Not Much Better. i think that he feels more clueless around kids than kirk does, but kids also like him more. he doesn't have it in him to be mean to a child ever, so all the awkward kids adore him, and he spends the whole time with them sending desperate looks to other crew members, being like, 'help, i am ill equipped for childcare' and everyone around him is like, 'nooo, you're doing great!!!' while the child has a blast and he is wishing desperately to be Anywhere Else. however, he does refuse care of babies. somehow, he is even worse with babies than jim is.

bones, though - he's a kid guy. he loves kids and babies. he adores them, they adore him, it's a win win. and he looks over at kirk and spock Struggling and he laughs and laughs and laughs. (the kids, of course, think this is hilarious, and they join in on making fun of kirk and spock, even if they don't really know what they're making fun of them for.)

[motherismotheringggg]

SLOW BURN

okay wow my first public fic — i’m terrified so pls be kind but feedback is OF COURSE welcome!!

type: female reader x nicholas chaves x cooper koch

(^this is the greed they talked about in the bible 🤭)

tags/warnings: 18+; nsfw; smut lite; kissing; fingering; groping (i think that’s it!!)

word count: 7317 (i was gonna post it in parts but i changed my mind)

*used AI to help organize structure

pt.2 out now!!!!

pt.3 out now!!!!

⛺️⛺️⛺️⛺️⛺️⛺️⛺️⛺️⛺️⛺️⛺️⛺️⛺️⛺️⛺️⛺️⛺️⛺️⛺️⛺️

You and your friend Vanessa laughed as you walked into the cafeteria of Camp White Water from a joke that had you both laughing since you both got ready and started heading toward the first day of camp counselor training.

This was your second summer of being a camp counselor at this month-and-a-half long sleep away camp. And you always looked forward to it, the leadership staff was always kind, the campers were actually not too bad and the other counselors were your favorite. All of the returners had become super close and it was super exciting to be reconnected with them when summer rolled around.

This year there were a few new counselors because of the amount of campers that were coming in this summer, particularly in your group. That being said, you were given two new co-counselors.

You and Vanessa were still in stitches about whatever joke had been continuing when you got closer to your assigned table, you noticed your name card with your name between two other name cards, one read “Nicholas Chaves” and the other “Cooper Koch”.

“Whoa..two news guys?” You were surprised, you expected to at least have another returner on your side, “Do they think I’m responsible enough to train two newbies?” you chuckled as you sat on the cafeteria bench.

“Well if they’re dumb and hot, send them over to the young eagles team, I’d love to have fresh meat”, Vanessa gestured to her table with Gene who was the oldest camp counselor and a bit of a gangly man who meant well but wasn’t exactly summer camp eye candy.

You both looked in his direction and giggled, “Hey Gene! You look ripped this summer. I’ll send her over to you in a second” you called out, causing Vanessa to laugh even harder.

As you both continued cackling in a room full of lively conversation, the group of new counselors walked in, it was tradition that the current counselors applaud them as a bit of a harmless hazing ritual.

You clapped and laughed with your friend as the newbies looked around excited but nervously for their name tags. In the middle of your giggling, you noticed two men stopped at your table and started settling in, “this must be them” you thought.

Copper was tall and broad. He had hazel brown eyes and deep brown curly hair. He was wearing a gray zip-up hoodie and tennis shorts and you could tell from his leg muscles that he was in good shape. He had soft features that made you feel immediately calm and at ease - safe almost.

Nicholas was the opposite, he had straight hair and darker eyes. His face was very chiseled, his jawline was impeccable. He had a defined and muscular physique, which stood out even when he’s dressed casually in his shorts and long sleeve college shirt.

He was also tall with broad shoulders but his muscles were more pronounced - a strong chest, and visible arm muscles that give him a commanding presence.

“Hey guys, I’m Y/N”! Cooper went for a handshake, which was too formal for you, without thinking you went in for a hug. You figured you’d get close through the summer like the rest of the counselors.

Cooper was caught off guard but quickly adjusted to the hug, Nicholas was a little reserved but even with just a side hug you felt his biceps take you in completely. They sat on either side of you and you started talking about your experience at the camp the group you’ll have this year.

The camp director gave some opening remarks and then the assistant director had you all start with those cringey ice breakers. He went around and gave out a stack of cards to each group that had random questions on it.

When he got your table, he said “Ah Y/N, happy to see you back again! Boys you’re in good hands, she’s a pro.” You playfully shooed him away to be humble. “I mean it, but you also have some star athletes next to you. Cooper and Nicholas were both finalists in the west end tennis conference and since you’re working on rec fit this year, it should be perfect!”

“Tennis boys huh?” you gestured to your co- counselors, “I knew those builds weren't for nothing” you jokingly nudged both of them in the side. Cooper giggled and you finally got Nick to crack a smile and loosen up.

The ice breakers were stupid but kind of fun and they opened up more conversation; “if you were a fruit, what fruit would you be?” turned into you three talking about your families, “what three things would you need on a deserted island” turned into talking about your favorite vacation spot and “what;s your morning routine” let the guys start to talk about their training which you found…hot. The way they describe conditioning and training completely hypnotized you, like you could understand it but just barely. And watching them interact was a real treat, Cooper was very funny and lighthearted but still very direct and expressive in his words. Nicholas was very sincere in everything and said it with such conviction, even if he was joking it came out so earnestly you thought he was being serious.

Later, for training you all got to wander the camp site as groups. The three of you found yourselves sitting on one of the picnic benches along the trail route, the ice was finally broken so the conversation flowed very casually.

It started to get a little warmer out, too warm for a hoodie so both you and Cooper took yours off. Cooper was wearing a tank top that revealed even more of his physique and you were wearing a stretchy tank top body suit. Realizing this was the first time they've seen your arms, they noticed you had a few tattoos and were both instantly intrigued. "You have tattoos?" Cooper asked, his voice more excited than you expected.

"Yeah, just a few!” You started pointing them out to Cooper while he walked around your body to get a closer look at each one. “I got this one with one of my friends, they are not quite matching but they’re similar” you went on.

Nicholas was also listening to you talk about your tattoos but he wasn’t as outwardly interested as Cooper was. He mostly just nodded in approval after you explained each tattoo. It wasn’t until you bent a certain way to show Cooper a different tattoo that your tennis skirt raised a little, revealing the very bottom of a tattoo on your thigh. "Is that… another one?" Nicholas asked, gesturing to your thigh, catching you off guard.

You blinked. "Oh, yeah," you replied, laughing lightly. "Good eye." You hadn’t expected him to notice that one—it was usually pretty hidden. But it wasn’t awkward and you were happy he actually spoke. “Yeah it’s just my zodiac constellation, I just thought it was cute, maybe a little stupid to get that tatted but I like it”

“I don’t think it’s stupid,” Nicholas replied, more confidently this time. Cooper nodded in agreement.

“In fact,” Nicholas stood up and took off his bookbag “As long as we’re showing off our sick ink…”. You and Cooper’s eyes widened, you had no idea what this man, who had been fairly silent this whole time, was about to show. He took off his shirt and revealed his perfect abs. They looked like they were chiseled from marble but also soft like flesh. You cleared your throat and gathered yourself. You glanced over at Cooper who was equally entranced by Nicholas’ body.

“What do you think?” Nicholas posed in front of you two and you both looked confused, “I thought we were just showing off tattoos, not seeing who’s built like an adonis” Cooper joked.

You laughed, “yeah, this is a summer camp so the chance to take off your shirt was coming soon enough” you added.

Nicholas laughed back, “no get closer, it’s there!” You and Cooper looked at each other and then got closer to his man’s perfect body and there it was, two small tattoos under both pecs, a smiley face and a frowny face.

‘Totally sick ink right?” Nicholas joked in a surfer voice, you and Cooper threw your heads back in laughter as you jokingly agreed. “It certainly is … ink on your skin,” Cooper added.

“They were stick-and-pokes I did in college just for fun, you can even feel the weird texture of them,” Nicholas said. Without missing a beat, he grabbed Cooper's hand and placed it on the small tattoo. You had to find a way to act normal about this but this was incredibly hot. Two gorgeous men essentially groping each other in the woods felt like something out of a fan fic.

Nicholas looked at you and said, “Don’t be shy, I don’t bite”, in a quiet gravely voice. You felt your shoulders drop and your eyes widened, internally you thought “what is happening right now??”

You used your finger tips to feel the tattoo but followed Cooper’s lead and also felt his chest too. Nicholas would glance down at you two feeling him with his breath hitching just a little. Cooper was into the moment, you were still taken aback. Before this moment could progress, the camp alarm blared calling us all back in for dinner.

For dinner, groups got to mix and mingle so you and Vanessa decided your groups should eat together. Dinner was fine, you were fine. It seemed odd that these two boys who were basically mute at the beginning of the day had this moment earlier with you and were now just so chill about it. But you were going to match their vibe and keep it lowkey.

After dinner, you were all texting and realized you wanted a sweet treat so you went off-site and ended up at this diner a few miles from the camp. You three sat in this round corner booth and just talked about each other.

It was getting progressively later and later in the night and you felt yourself getting tired. Cooper went to the bathroom before you all headed out and you instinctively rested your head on Nicholas’s shoulder. Completely forgetting what happened earlier and just needing a place to rest for a minute.

It took him no time to accommodate your needs and lift his arm up so you could properly get close. He pulled you close to his chest and rubbed your arm as you slightly drifted in his arms.

You all drove in your car there but Nicholas saw how tired you both were so he offered to drive. “Give daddy the keys” he gestured to you to throw them in his direction, “I’ll get us back safe”. You mentally noted that he called himself daddy and tossed him your keys. “You both should ride in the back seat because if you're up here yawning by me that could be dangerous”.

You and Cooper hopped in the back seat and again, you just wanted to lay down, so Cooper sat upright and you laid down with your head in his lap. He also wanted to make you feel comfortable so he started stroking your cheek and did that for the entire ride back to camp.

---

The next morning was Special Classes day, all the counselors would be in various groups to get trained on the specialized activities for the camp this summer. Swimming, archery, arts and crafts, home ec, etc., you were partnered with Nicholas in the swim group while Cooper took the archery class.

The sun beat down on the lake, making the water glisten. You all had been in and out of the water several times for various tests. Every time you glanced at Nick and noticed the way the water drops would sit in between the ridges of his abs you felt something electric in you.

“You all have done a fantastic job today,” the instructor addressed the group, “and we wrapped up earlier than I thought so that’s good. Feel free to go for a free swim or head out until your next activity.”

You and Nicholas non-verbally agreed to head out but not before the instructor asked you both to take some supplies to the first aid shed before you left out. You wrapped a towel around your body and Nicholas wheeled the cart of medical supplies.

When you got the shed, which was more of a small cottage, you held open the door while Nicholas wheeled the items in. He started putting them away while you just stood and watched. Watching the way his back muscles moved with every action, the way he towered next to the shelves and how broad he looked from the back.

He turned to see you checking him out and chuckled to himself, “do you mind helping me out a little?” a smirk brandishing on his face.

You didn’t hear what he asked you when you were in your trance so he chuckled again, a little louder this time, “they’re getting lower in the wagon, could you hand them to me?” he asked again.

“Oh my bad – yeah of course! Sorry, I was just thinking about dinner or something” you tried to cover your tracks in the worst way possible, “or ‘something’ is right” he retorted back, you felt your face get hot.

When you were finished putting the boxes away, you wheeled the cart to where the other storage containers were and joined him back in the main room. The shed was so warm so neither one of you wanted to leave. Nick went to sit down in a chair by the desk in the room. There were papers on top of the chair he went to move but when he picked them up he got a paper cut.

“Shit,” he hissed “oh my god” your eyes widened. It wasn’t a lot of blood but you could yell it hurt because he kept hissing in pain. At one point he even hissed your name asking you to grab him a paper towel and you felt your heart skip a little.

He sat on the chair while you cleaned him up and gave him a bandaid. Once you got him squared away and you put the kit back on the shelf, you just kind of stood in front of him. There was nowhere else to go and not much to say.

He grabbed your hand, closing the distance between you two, pulling you toward him “the old ‘nurse me back to health’ trope huh? What a classic” he joked in a low gravely voice

“You’re so annoying”, you whined jokingly pushing away, as his one hand placed your arm on his shoulder and the other wrapped around your waist.

You caressed the side of his face with one hand, contemplating if this was really about to happen. You just met this guy yesterday - but you have already felt his pecs, cuddled with him in public and let him call himself daddy.

You leaned down and hovered in front of his mouth, “don’t make me beg” he whispered as he moved closer to plant his lips on yours. It started slow but very deliberate, he was soft but sturdy, your knees felt weak and you could feel him holding you up with the strength of his arm alone.

He took more initiative in the kiss and started taking control, his tongue now fighting for dominance in your mouth and he pulled you down into a straddling position on to his lap, never breaking apart. The more intense he got the more inhaled and exhaled sharply, the breathing made it all so much hotter. He started kissing down your neck, using his hands to guide which way you leaned your head to receive him.

He got to your ear and whispered , “I wanted you the second I saw you”, and started kissing and licking your collarbone, “you’re so perfect” he said into your neck before biting and sucking at various spots. While he worked on a particular part of your neck – biting and sucking, making you moan his name. He started to lower your bathing suit strap to reveal your soft wet breasts.

He looked at you as he kissed down your chest and gently placed it in his mouth, sucking and licking at the nipple making you thrash in excitement. You moaned his name out loud again, he switched to the other breast with the same licking and sucking motion while using his hand to play with the nipple of the other. You felt a rush when he moaned, it sent a vibration through your body that you felt it below.

He was so attuned with your body, he knew you could feel the excitement pooling down there and went to feel you over the bathing suit down there. Your back arched the second he touched you, your breath shaky. You locked lips again as he continued to graze it.

Just as you went to reach down to feel him hard through his trunks, the camp alarm sounded, calling everyone back to the main area. The rudeness of the alarm made you two separate and understand what you were really doing.

When you both come down from the euphoric feeling of being wrapped up in another stranger, you pulled your straps back up to cover yourself and he helped you off him. He pushed the chair back, you grabbed the towels both of you came in with and left, not saying a word.

When you joined the group again, you had to sit with your team. You and Nicholas found Cooper and sat on either side of him, typically you had been in the middle of them two but you needed a little distance from Nicholas at the moment.

“You guys are still in your swim stuff? I saw you guys wrapped up earlier than us” Cooper genuinely asked

There was a pause that needed to be filled, you went to speak but Nicholas also started, you both stopped and almost started again and then stopped fully and there was another long pause

“Oh no that's fine, that’s totally how normal people answer a question” Cooper said sarcastically.

---

The next day of training, returners and new counselors had separate schedules. This was perfect because after yesterday, it’s not that you were avoiding Nicholas but you certainly needed a break and time to process how this all progressed so quickly.

That night, in the cafeteria certain counselors signed up for different kitchen shifts, you and Cooper got put on clean up duty. When dinner was wrapping up Nicholas hung around for as long as possible. It wasn’t weird, there was an energy between you two but mostly he just hung around to talk to Cooper. You kept a distance and participated in the conversation from afar.

Cooper went to the back to handle the trashtrash and you were clearing off tables. Nicholas stood up to leave and called you over. You didn't know what he was going to say, was he going to ask you why haven't we talked? Does he want to have sex? Does he have a girlfriend? Every thought ran through your mind as you walked over to him from a few tables over.

You got to him and asked “what’s up?” he paused, stood up and looked down at you. He used his fingers to lift your face in his direction and planted another kiss on you right then and there, without a care in the world. His lips were soft and plush, you felt yourself melt into him from how smooth it was.

“Let me know if we’re doing another sweet treat run tonight” he said just a few inches from your mouth and walked out.

You were floored, who is this man? That kiss was so comfortable, as if you were his and he was yours. It felt natural and right to him.

You wiped down the counters while Cooper stocked and organized supplies for the next day’s meals, the silence between them was oddly comfortable. From the second you met them both Nicholas was a little harder to read and you felt like you had to do a little more to get his attention. Not that you necessarily wanted his attention but with Cooper, he immediately opened up. He was warm, comforting and quiet. He just felt safe.

When everything was done, you and Cooper sat on top of a table while the floors dried and ate ice cream. You couldn’t help but smile at him as he sat across from you criss-cross apple sauce style, him being easily over 6 ft and sitting to make himself look small was so endearing.

The more you talked the smaller the distance grew between you two. Your knees were touching and he was stroking your leg as you both continued talking, doting into each other’s eyes.

He glanced at you, a small smile playing at his lips. “You know, you’re probably the most beautiful person I’ve met.”

You raised an eyebrow, laughing softly. “Where’s this coming from?”

He finished his cone just in time to place both hands on your legs while he answered. His hands were large and strong, with veins subtly tracing the surface, hinting at a quiet power beneath his skin. The rough texture of his palms contrasted with the smoothness of his long fingers, which moved with a practiced, almost careful grace. There was something magnetic about the way they flexed, confident and capable, as if they knew exactly how to hold the world—firm, yet gentle.

“Just being honest. You’ve been, like… really good to me since day one. Everyone here is nice but you and Nick have made me feel comfortable here”, he said through a smile.

His words made your heart skip, but you tried to play it cool. “I mean, I hope you gave Nicholas thanks like this too, don’t want him feeling left out.” you let out a laugh and so did he.

“No, but it’s different with you,” he said, and this time, he didn’t look away. “I was nervous as hell coming here, and I wasn’t expecting anyone to make it easier, but you did. I didn’t feel out of place with you around. You’re, like, ridiculously sweet and also…” He trailed off, eyes scanning your face like he was debating how much to say. “You’re also, like, the most attractive person here.”

Suddenly you were in the same position you were in with Nicohlas in the shed, a moment of silence where nothing needed to be said, only action needed to be taken.

Copper leaned forward and quietly said, “I’m gonna kiss you now”

He leaned in slowly, his breath warm against your lips as he hesitated for a moment, savoring the closeness. His kiss started soft, tentative, like he was afraid to rush it, each movement deliberate and tender. His lips were gentle against yours, almost shy, and you could feel the slightest tremble in his touch. But as you pressed closer, he exhaled, letting go of his nerves, and the kiss deepened naturally. He found his rhythm, and what began as slow and cautious soon turned into something warmer, more fluid, their lips moving together with a sweet, unhurried certainty.

You felt his one hand on your thigh and the other slipped under your shirt, warm and steady against your skin. His fingers curled against your side, massaging gently as he explored the curve of your waist. Slowly, he moved his hand upward, caressing your breasts with a careful touch, his thumb tracing soft, deliberate circles until your body relaxed into his hands.

'Is this okay?' Cooper pulled away from the kiss, his forehead resting lightly against yours as he searched your eyes, his voice soft and filled with concern. The tenderness in his question only made you want him more."

You nodded, your breath hitching as his lips found yours again, this time with more confidence. His hand slipped back under your shirt, his movements unhurried but more intentional now, as though he wanted to savor every second of the moment. His thumb brushed across your skin, sending little sparks through your body, and you leaned into his touch, your hands finding their way to his hair. You tugged gently, and he let out a low, quiet groan that only made you pull him closer.

Cooper’s kisses grew deeper, more fluid as he relaxed into it, his earlier nervousness melting away. His hand continued to explore, fingertips dancing across your body as if he was learning every inch of you. There was something almost reverent in the way he touched you—gentle but filled with intent, as though he couldn’t believe this moment was real. He pulled you closer, his lips moving from your mouth to your jaw, then to your neck, his breath warm and steady against your skin as he took his time, each kiss slower than the last.

'You’re incredible,' he whispered against your neck, his voice rough with affection. The way he said it, so soft and unassuming, made your heart swell, and in that moment, you knew that every touch, every kiss, was laced with more than just desire.

You felt wrap his hands around you and he shifted his position to lay you down gently on the table. He continued kissing you on your neck, whispering praises softly in your ear while his hands smoothly roamed your body, “you’re so perfect”, “I need you”, “you’re a goddess”.

You felt his hand go lower and lower on your body until he got to your waistband. He pulled from the passionate kiss to look at you, he thought you were so beautiful in this moment. Frazzled from his passion, your eyes begging him to keep going. His fingers slipped into your shorts, but stopped, “are you sure?” Cooper asked you again, wanting to make sure you felt safe.

You pulled him down on top of you to kiss again and pushed his hand down so his fingers just grazed over the clit. His fingers continued to massage your area, with each pass you moaned into his mouth. Your kisses became deeper and frantic as you struggled to keep from completely unraveling from him.

“Let go for me baby”, he said with his forehead resting on yours. Before you could catch your breath his hand went lower and he angled his fingers at your entrance, your back arched in anticipation.

He pulled back completely so he could see your reaction to his fingers slipping inside if you. He traced around your entrance a little before slipping in his middle finger. You gasped and shuttered as his finger moved in and out, your moans turned to whimpers as he slipped in another finger.

You moaned out his name as his fingers curled inside of you hitting your spot. You had no control of your body, your body spasming from his touch which was getting deeper and faster by the minute, you were moaning so loud you didn’t care who heard you and your hands searched for some part of him to touch to return the favor. You reached out for his waistband, his hard member was pressed against his pants. You wanted to make him feel as good as he made you.

Just as you were about to return the favor, the camp alarm went off for a final roll call for bed. You and Cooper froze, reality settling back in as you both quickly gathered yourselves, adjusting clothes and catching your breath.

Cooper sat back with a sheepish grin, running a hand through his hair. 'I guess I got a little carried away,' he admitted, a soft laugh escaping his lips as he glanced at you, clearly still processing everything.

You smiled back, your heart still racing but now more from the situation than the moment before. 'It’s fine,' you said with a light shrug, your voice playful. 'It was fun... and now I think the favor's officially been returned for being so sweet.'

He let out a low chuckle, his eyes soft and warm as he looked at you.

---

A few days had passed, and while you hadn't been actively avoiding Cooper or Nicholas, you also hadn’t been seeking them out either. You needed a moment to clear your head after everything, to let the tension simmer down before the campers arrived. Still, you didn’t want things to feel awkward, so you invited them over to your cabin to help put together goodie bags for the kids. Your cabin mate was out for the night, so you even suggested they sleep over since their cabins were farther away. It was a subtle effort to show them you were cool, if they were cool. Even though every time one of them shifted closer, the heat between your legs was impossible to ignore.

You all worked in a comfortable rhythm, talking and laughing as you assembled the bags, until a song came on that sent Nicholas into nostalgic mode. His eyes lit up, and with a grin, he said, "This song always reminds me of my first kiss." You laughed.

Nicholas leaned back, his eyes dreamy with the memory. "Middle school. At a dance. I was so nervous I almost missed her lips entirely."

The three of you burst into laughter, and soon the conversation flowed into everyone sharing their stories, one kiss memory after another. Cooper shared about his first kiss behind the bleachers at a football game, and you talked about a spontaneous kiss under the basement steps of your friends’ house with her hot older brother. The mood was light and fun, each of you enjoying the trip down memory lane.

But then Cooper, ever the curious one, leaned forward, his tone more playful than usual. "So... has anyone here fooled around at camp before?" The question hung in the air for a moment, and you could feel the tension shift. You knew exactly why you were feeling awkward, but you noticed Nicholas’s smirk almost instantly. His eyes flicked between you and Cooper, as though daring one of you to speak first.

You opened your mouth, not entirely sure what you were going to say, when Nicholas took the chance. "Actually," he began, leaning forward with a glint of mischief in his eyes. "I’ve done it twice already. And both of them are in this room."

Your eyes shot open, heart hammering in your chest as you whipped your gaze to Nicholas. Cooper let out a surprised laugh, and for a moment, you were too stunned to speak. Wait—Cooper already knew? Your mind raced to piece it all together, the realization dawning on you like a light bulb flicking on. You’d hooked up with Nicholas. Cooper knew. And they had hooked up too?

"Hold up," you finally managed to say, your voice a mix of shock and curiosity. "You two—?"

Nicholas nodded, leaning back with an easy confidence, clearly enjoying your reaction. "After arts and crafts clean-up a few days ago," he said, glancing at Cooper with a smirk. "We were the only ones left in the room, and we ended up in that tiny back closet putting away supplies…”

Cooper chimed in, chuckling. "It was kind of inevitable. I mean, we were basically on top of each other. And then... one thing led to another. I pulled his shirt off and started kissing chest. He kissed down my neck. Mouths went places, hands went places and rest is a fogged up window.”

Your mind spun, trying to wrap around the image of Nicholas and Cooper together. You could practically picture it—the tension, the closeness, the heat of the moment in the small, confined space.

You swallowed, feeling the heat rise between the three of you again, but this time it was different. This wasn’t about embarrassment anymore—it was curiosity, excitement, a shared secret now out in the open.

Cooper and Nicholas exchanged a glance before bursting out into laughter. Cooper was the first to speak. "Oh, it was obvious," he said, still chuckling. "When you came to the camp meeting that day after special classes, the hickies already started forming on your neck. You weren’t exactly subtle."

Nicholas leaned forward with a mischievous grin. "And I tried to come back to the dining hall after I left that night you two had clean up duty and I heard you two making out in the distance, so I turned right back around."

The three of you erupted into laughter, the kind that shakes your whole body and makes your cheeks hurt. It was funny now, how you’d all tiptoed around it, trying to keep it secret when in reality, none of you had been fooling anyone.

When the laughter finally died down, Nicholas’s curiosity took over. "Okay, so... real talk. Who do you prefer more?" His eyes sparkled with playful competitiveness, and he leaned back with a smirk, clearly ready for whatever answer you had.

Cooper grinned, nudging your shoulder. "Yeah, no pressure, but... we’re all dying to know."

You couldn’t help but laugh at how ridiculous it was—being asked to choose between them like it was some kind of game. You paused for a moment, then gave a mock-serious look as you made a reference only you could deliver. "You know, it feels like Tyra Banks standing here with two contestants in front of her, and only one can stay."

Cooper burst out laughing, recognizing the reference immediately. "No way, you’re not about to do an America’s Next Top Model elimination on us right now!"

You grinned, savoring the dramatic moment. "But if I had to choose..." you began, your eyes darting between them, building suspense. Finally, you pointed to Cooper. "It’s you."

Cooper jumped up from the floor, arms raised in victory. "Yes! I knew it!" he shouted, dancing around the room like he’d just won a championship. Nicholas, meanwhile, was in mock shock, his mouth hanging open as he smiled at the absurdity of it all.

"You’ve got to be kidding me!" Nicholas exclaimed, shaking his head with a grin. "I thought I had this in the bag!"

You laughed, trying to calm the chaos around you. "Hooking up with you, Nick, was fun and spontaneous. But Cooper..." you turned to Cooper, who was still grinning like an idiot, "...was gentle, tender, and made me feel really special."

Cooper shrugged nonchalantly, though the satisfaction was clear on his face. "What can I say? I just know how to make a woman feel special."

Nicholas rolled his eyes but smiled anyway, leaning closer to you. "Okay, fine. But..." he gave you that familiar smirk, "...if you let me have another shot, I can be gentle too."

You raised an eyebrow, curious. "Oh, yeah? You think so?"

He nodded, the playful tone in his voice now edged with something more serious. "Absolutely. If you’ll let me."

You smiled and nodded, your body buzzing with excitement. "Okay, I’m down."

With that, Nicholas took your hand and guided you to the bed. He sat down next to you and this time, there was no rush, no quick or hurried movements. He was slow, deliberate, his hands softer as they found your waist and pulled you gently toward him. He kissed you with a tenderness you hadn’t felt from him before, each movement careful, as though he was savoring the moment.

The heat between you built gradually, the tension thick in the air but controlled. Nicholas was taking his time, just like he promised. His lips moved against yours with a softness that surprised you, his hand sliding up your side in a slow caress that made your breath hitch. Compared to your first time hooking up, this was different—more intentional, more intimate.

You felt Cooper watching from the other side of the room, clearly entertained but also intrigued. Nicholas’s kiss deepened, but the pace stayed slow, methodical, as he explored every part of you with a newfound gentleness.

"Not bad," Cooper teased from the sidelines, his voice light but clearly enjoying the view. Nicholas smirked against your lips, but didn’t break the kiss, his focus entirely on you. He put his hand on his thigh and started messaging, working his way further and further up.

Nicholas parted from your lips to make his way down your neck. When you first hooked up, he would’ve started biting and sucking but this time he placed soft kisses on your neck, while lightly squeezing your thighs. He whispered in your ear “see, I can be anything you want me to be baby” he nearly whimpered in your ear.

His words sent a shiver down your spine, and your body quivered in response. You were melting into the moment, eyes closed, savoring the feeling, when suddenly, Nicholas pulled away. Your eyes shot open in confusion, the warmth of his body leaving yours too soon.

“Why’d you stop?” you asked, breathless, your lips tingling from his touch.

Nicholas smirked, a teasing glint in his eyes. “Just wanted to show you I could be gentle,” he said with a wink, clearly enjoying how worked up he’d gotten you.

You let out a soft laugh, though you couldn’t help but still want more. “Well, you’ve definitely proven that,” you teased back, a smile tugging at your lips.

Cooper stepped in, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "Well, if we’re all trying new things, maybe it’s time I take a shot at being more... aggressive."

You smiled wide as you agreed, Cooper crossed the room in a few long strides and came to sit next to you on the bed. He gently but firmly grabbed your face, pulling you to his direction. His lips met yours with a fiery intensity, pulling you on top of him and kissing you harder, deeper than before. His hands gripped your hips with a sense of urgency, and he moved faster, more aggressively, his kisses more forceful as he claimed your mouth. The energy was completely different from the gentle, careful approach Nicholas had just taken, but it was equally intoxicating.

You gasped against Cooper’s mouth as he pressed into you, his lips trailing down your neck with no hesitation this time. He kissed you with raw hunger, teeth grazing your skin, his hands roaming your body with confident, demanding touches that sent heat pooling low in your belly. Every move he made was firm, and you could feel the shift in energy—this was Cooper letting go, leaning into the moment with full force.

But out of the corner of your eye, you caught sight of Nicholas watching from where he stood, his eyes dark with anticipation. His gaze was hungry, eager, as if he didn’t care who he joined in on, just that he wanted to be wrapped between you and Cooper.

Cooper noticed it too, pausing briefly to glance over at Nicholas. He didn’t say a word, but his eyes flashed with a knowing look, as if he was silently inviting Nicholas to join. Then, in one smooth motion, Cooper gently but firmly placed you back on the bed, your body sinking into the softness of the blankets beneath you.

Nicholas didn’t need any further invitation.

He crossed the room and joined you both, sliding onto the bed with that same eager smirk he always wore. Without missing a beat, he moved in close, taking his place on one side of you while Cooper positioned himself on the other. You could feel Nicholas’s breath warm against your skin before his lips pressed to the side of your neck, the same spot Cooper had just claimed moments ago.

The sensation of both of them on either side of you was overwhelming, in the best way possible. Nicholas’s kisses were slow but deliberate, each one more lingering than the last, while Cooper’s lips moved more urgently, as though he couldn’t get enough. You were surrounded by them, their hands tracing up and down your body as their mouths explored your neck, your collarbone, the sensitive spots just below your ear.

Nicholas’s fingers skimmed across your waist, his touch light but teasing, while Cooper’s hand slid down your thigh, squeezing gently. The contrast between the two of them made your heart race, and you couldn’t help but let out a soft, involuntary moan as you sank deeper into the sensation.

“This is what you wanted, right?” Nicholas murmured against your neck, his voice low and smooth, sending a shiver down your spine. “Both of us... all over you?”

Before you could answer, Cooper’s lips moved to your ear, his breath hot as he whispered, “Tell us what you like.”

You felt completely overwhelmed, your senses flooded by the way both Cooper and Nicholas were hitting every spot that made your body hum with pleasure. Nicholas's lips left soft, teasing kisses along your collarbone while Cooper’s hands roamed your body, his grip firm and sure. The contrast between their touches, one gentle, one rough, had your heart racing, and you were utterly lost in the sensation.

Needing more, you reached up, grabbing Cooper’s face and pulling him into a heated kiss. You matched his intensity, your lips moving hungrily against his, both of you completely giving in to the moment. His hands gripped your hips harder, pulling you closer, as if he wanted to devour you whole.

Meanwhile, Nicholas’s kisses continued to trail down your shoulder, slow and deliberate, each one sending shivers down your spine. His hands were patient, exploring every inch of your body with a calm but insistent touch, as if he wanted to memorize the way you felt beneath his fingers.

Cooper pulled away just long enough to tug your shirt over your head, and before you could even process it, Nicholas unhooked your bra with expert precision, leaving you bare in front of them. For a second, the weight of their gaze made you feel vulnerable—but the way they looked at you, eyes full of hunger and admiration, made the tension crackle in the air.

Without missing a beat, Nicholas’s lips found their way to your breast, his tongue tracing soft circles before he took your nipple into his mouth. The sensation sent a wave of heat through your body, and you gasped, arching into his touch. His mouth was gentle, but the pressure was enough to make your body ache for more.

At the same time, Cooper’s teeth grazed the sensitive skin of your neck, biting down just enough to leave a lingering sting that made you squirm in his grasp. His hands explored your back, pulling you flush against him, and every bite, every nip, felt like it was setting your skin on fire.

The combination of Nicholas’s slow, teasing kisses and Cooper’s rough, hungry bites made your mind spin. You could barely keep up with the sensations washing over you, your body reacting to every touch, every kiss, every movement. It was almost too much, but you couldn’t get enough.

“You’re perfect,” Nicholas whispered against your skin, his lips still trailing over your chest. “I could keep doing this all night.”

Cooper smirked against your neck, his hand sliding down your waist. “We might just have to.”.

[thegnomelord]

Good Dog

CW: NSFW, DARK-FIC, murder, gore, power imbalance, size difference(reader's bigger), description of torture and brainwashing, oral, anal, blood as lube, plot and exposition with porn, pet play(collars and leashes), toxic relationship, dub-con, very very self indulgent.

Моя гончая- my hound, Хороший солдат - good soldier, Расслабьтесь, братья мои - relax, my brothers, приносить - fetch, есть - eat

The thick door and walls of the private room do nothing to damped the bass of the club pounding in his ears, the annoying music made bearable by the high of a recent victory. Puffs of cigarette smoke lazily curl in the air as Makarov leans further back into the couch, the buzzing sting of a fresh tattoo helping him relax. The scent of expensive liquor only adds to the heady atmosphere, crystal clear vodka swirling in his glass before Makarov takes a sip. His dark eyes peer over the rim of his glass, like doorways to a dark abyss, his gaze dancing across the faces of his most trusted men before settling on the lieutenant's as the man tries to prove his worth with pointless words.

Above all else, Makarov values loyalty.

It doesn't matter how strong a man is if he can't follow orders. The number of soldiers he can lead is pointless when he can't keep his men alive. How well he can shoot is meaningless when he can't devote himself to a cause. A man who is disloyal is a man of single use.

Makarov doesn't even try to listen to whatever drivel the lieutenant's spouting, he doesn't see a reason to sour his mood when he already knows everything: the embezzling, the lying, the adorable double agent act. He has you to thank for that, you'd sniffed the lieutenant out the second you met him, diligently uncovering every speck of dirt the lieutenant had attempted to hide from Makarov.

And you? You are very loyal. His loyal hound.

His fingers curl around the leash, the smooth black leather sliding against his calloused palms. A barely there tug is all it takes for you to lean down over the back of the couch, bracing one large hand near his head for support as the other remains over the grip of your sidearm. You loom over him, and while Makarov may be a fearsome man, he can't deny the type of foreboding fear a goliath like you inspires — a towering figure always a step behind him, broad body big enough to easily cover him fully if you need to take a bullet for him, arms strong and palms wide to easily crack a man's skull.

Settling the glass down he takes another drag of his cigarette, "Hound," Another tug — sharper, harsher; such a small correction yet the fact you needed it at all has acrid disappointment burning on your tongue — makes you bend down more, your face now next to his. He doesn't draw attention to the reprimand, breathing out a puff of smoke near your face. "Were you listening, моя гончая?"

It's a pointless question, he knows you were listening, he trained you to. But he asks because he loves to see the way your eyes darken, jaw tight. The cigarette smoke dances in the air, making the club's low lights reflect off the sharp spikes adorning the thick collar snuggly wrapped around your throat. Your day collar suits you well, no different than the spiked collars put on hunting hounds.

"Yes sir." You answer, your attention now solely on the lieutenant.

Makarov hums, eyes flickering from the lieutenant to you. "And?" He chuckles and lets the leash go, his word keeping you in place as he casually pats your neck. "What did you hear?"

"Lies. . ." The slow slide of his fingers across the uncovered parts of your throat makes your breath stutter, static crackling beneath your skin. "I heard lies, sir." Your answer causes the lieutenant to try and sputter excuses and denials, all cut short by the harsh look you give him.

Makarov chuckles, hooking a finger over the silver loop at the front of your collar, pulling on it and tilting his head so his lips can ghost across your jaw. "Хороший солдат." Makarov murmurs. His stubble scratches your skin as his lips brush a path to your ear, so very close to a lover's kiss.

But a brush of skin is all it is. Nothing more. Your body earns for more, to turn your head and experience the bruising possessiveness of his kiss once again, to feel his teeth bite down on your lip until blood floods both of your mouths. But you don't move; A spoiled dog isn't loyal and Makarov won't lavish you with attention for nothing. no — you must earn it.

"Stay." The soft 'click' of the leash unclipping sounds the same as a sentencing gavel, the strip of leather falling away until only his word keeps you from tearing the lieutenant's throat out with your teeth. Makarov smirks against your skin, his words honey sweet to your ears as he whispers: "Sick him."

That seals the ex-lieutenant's fate.

You're on the lieutenant in an instant, crashing into him like a truck. Makarov leans back and lights up another cigarette as you stomp down on the man's leg, all the weight you carry around bearing down on his bones until they break, erasing any foolish thoughts of escape when you snap the bones of his other ankle; Makarov has truly taught you well.

The screams of a traitor are much better than the atrocious club music, letting him enjoy the smooth burn of the vodka as another stomp breaks a couple of ribs. Some of his men are still nervous around you, trying not to shuffle in their seats lest they grab your attention and become the new outlet of your violence.

"Расслабьтесь, братья мои." Makarov gives a charming smile, resting his ankle on his knee as he takes another drag. "Hound is well trained, you have nothing to fear." He chuckles, lazily watching you as he holds conversation with his lieutenants. Honestly, you're like a dog with a new toy, tossing the man around and pinning him down under your heavy body, each swing of your fists steadily turning the ex-lieutenant's face into pulp.

It's as entertaining for him as it is therapeutic for you.

And to think Price had tried to suppress all that beautiful savageness you possessed.

Makarov remembers how you'd been nothing but a snarling and cursing ball of anger when his men had captured you after a botched mission. He had been both annoyed and amused by how loyal you were to Price, weathering every beating and starving and humiliation with the same 'fuck you' response, baring your teeth like the cornered dog you were. With days turning to months and your resolve refusing to waver under their 'care' Makarov had considered just putting you down, sending a nice video of blowing your skull open to Price but oh — is he glad he decided to indulge in the game your stubbornness presented.

He set out to train you like he would any mongrel mutt, clear expectations making it easy to tell whether your actions would get you a reward or an even worse punishment, giving small rewards for the behavior he wanted; not snarling at him might earn you a better meal. Biting your lip and taking your beating without back talk could get you a couple of minutes outside the claustrophobic walls of your cell. Letting him touch and inspect your body without complaint might reward you with a book or some other little creature comfort he could, and did, easily take away the moment you stepped out of line.

Of course you were weary, perceptive enough to know when he was scheming. But every man has his limits, yours were simply reached when he handed you official C.I.A documents proclaiming you as K.I.A, the mission itself creatively rewritten to sound like you had gone and deserted to the enemy — no one was looking for you, no one was coming to save you, your captain, Price, wasn't coming to save you.

He had taken great enjoyment in running his fingers across your scalp as you clutched the documents in a white knuckled grip, your mind far too worn down to question or guard against the soft touches. His lips had brushed against your ear, soothingly raspy voice comforting you — you're a good soldier, strong, reliable, everything a commander could dream of. It wasn't your fault you trusted the wrong man, truly, what a shame to have your loyalty repaid with betrayed like that.

After that, it became laughably easy to train you. He stuck with simple commands, spoken only in Russian so he could amuse himself with the way your head would tilt before you'd perk up, recognition making your dull eyes brighten before you did what he wanted in exchange for a small scrap of his affection, learning to seek his praise and appreciate his touch even when your body still prickled with disgust. So when he handed you the knife, standing so close you could have easily slit his throat, and ordered you to kill another member of your previous taskforce, you hadn't hesitated for a second. "Good boy." He had purred, caressing your jaw as he used his thumb to wipe away the blood staining your cheek.

"Hound." His voice is as effective as any physical tug on your leash, making you stop mid punch with your fist inches away from the ex-lieutenant's caved in face. You're covered in blood, the rich crimson bringing out the violence swirling in your eyes.

Yet you look at him with utter adoration he wants to shove his cock deep down your throat just so he can see your tears smudge the blood on your cheeks. "Приносить." He taps his thigh.

You nod your head, grabbing the knife strapped to your thigh. There's no hesitation in your movements as you shove the knife into the ex-lieutenant's throat. An arc of blood spurts across your front when you yank it out just to stab another spot, the man coughing and choking as you cut through cartilage and muscle until with a good yank and a sickening 'crack!' you separate the head from the body.

Makarov had never seen the appeal of large hulking brutes until you — your body had filled back out with muscle and fat nicely after you became his, towering body demanding attention simply by existing as you stand up. The loud stomp of your feet and the blood staining your body making you look like a barbarian, casting a shadow over him before you kneel at his feet, offering the decapitated head as a knight does to his king.

Oh yes, he definitely sees the appeal now.

"Good dog." He purrs, reaching out to stroke your jaw, smearing some of the blood with his thumb. Fingers sliding down to hook on the silver ring on your collar he pulls your head closer. "Do you think you earned a reward?"

It's a test. One you're intimately familiar with. The judgmental stares of Makarov's trusted men are the last thing in your mind when the closeness of his body and the sharp crisp scent of his cologne threatens to shatter your resolve. "Only if you permit it, sir." Your throat feels dry, trying not to show how eager you are for his attention as you place the head on the floor so you don't get a drop of blood on him.

Makarov smirks, "Smart dog," His hands move to the back of your neck, unbuckling the collar. You're no longer ashamed to admit you feel naked as the thick piece of leather is pulled away; the time when you didn't have a collar wrapped around your neck feel like a distant memory and now the sensation of breathing without it pressing against your skin is disturbing. You have to bite your lip to keep the low whine from escaping your chest.

His hand wraps securely around your throat, bringing your breath back to you. Your Adam's apple bobs beneath his fingers as he traces the 'V.M' shallowly carved across your throat. "It's already starting to fade." He tuts, squeezing his fingers to restrict your breathing just the slightest bit more. "We'll need to have it tattooed. That would be nice, yes?"

You suck in a sharp breath, "Yes sir."

"Хороший солдат." He purrs. He pulls out another collar from his pocket and you feel yourself chub up in your pants just at the sight of it. It's the chained pronged one he uses exclusively when he wants you to pleasure him, particularly because it leaves such pretty bruises along your skin when he tugs on the leash.

You eagerly tilt your head back to bare your throat, a shudder rushing down your spine as soon as you feel the cold metal against your skin. You stay perfectly still as he secures around your neck, the sharp pull of the leash making the prongs dig into your skin, prickles of pain making you even harder. "Go on," Makarov hums, spreading his legs wider so your attention falls to the hard bulge in his slacks, his belt undone but the rest left to you. "есть."

You don't think you could enjoy servicing him as much as you did if he didn't let you work for it, the reward made sweeter because you earned it. Truly, he's so good to you, you'd thank him profusely but he hasn't given you permission to speak freely. So you lean in, careful not to get blood on his pants as you take the metal zipper between your teeth and pull it down. You've done this enough not to have any problems undoing the button, your hands obediently planted on your thighs and your gaze firmly on him so you can see the pleased smirk that spreads across his features when you bite the band of his boxers and pull them down until his cock springs out, already hard.

A pleased sigh escapes him when your warm lips wrap around the head of his cock, the leash wrapped firmly around his hand and the slightest tug on it has pain prickling down your spine. "Моя гончая, don't waste my time." You can't help but whine lowly at the admonishment, quickly trying to make up to him by sucking on the tip and licking the slit in just the way he likes it.

His leg shifts, hard boot coming up to grind the sole against your clothed cock. "That's better." The praise makes you moan deep from your chest and try to take more of his cock into your mouth, your boxers wet and sticky against your own cock as you give an experimental hump of your hips against his boot. You scrape your teeth along the vein on the underside of his cock and it earns you a rough grind of his boot. His hand tangles in your bloodied hair and pulls you down until his cock bumps the back of your throat.

You nearly choke from the sudden pressure, trying to fight off the reflex to pull back and gag. "Look at me." His order rings clear in your head, your eyes meeting his as he grinds your nose into his pubic hair, tears prickling the corners of your eyes as your lungs start to burn. You fight through it, the fluttering of your throat making him five a small, rough, moan and fuck — you're hard as a rock.

Just as you feel like you'll pass out on his cock he lets you off, yanking your head back. You're only given a few seconds to take a sharp breath of fresh air before he pushes your head back down. You're prepared this time, hollowing your cheeks and relaxing your throat, swallowing around his hard cock. The way you suck Makarov off is wet and sloppy, stealing ragged breaths when you can as you trace the veins of his cock with your tongue and gently nibble on the base when his cock's fully sheathed in your throat, knowing exactly how to please him. Your efforts are rewarded with the salty taste of precum on your tongue, hearing him occasionally mutter his praises in Russian, none of his words snagging on your mind like sharp orders so you let yourself drift in the pleasure of servicing him, subconsciously grinding your cock into his foot.

But you're not mentally gone enough not to notice the squeaking of chairs, your body tensing as you pull up enough so only his head remains in your mouth, your head turned just enough to throw a sharp glare at the other men in the room. Makarov having his guard down like this makes you tense, violence buzzing beneath your skin from the ingrained need to protect him.

"Hound." Makarov's growl is followed by another sharp tug of the leash, the dull ache of the metal prongs digging into your skin dissipating some of your aggression. "Did I tell you to stop?"

You shake your head as best you can, a pathetic whine escaping your chest from the way the pain makes your cock even harder. Satisfied, he eases the leash, letting you return to your work. His head lolls back, lazily looking at his men. He couldn't care less who sees you like this, but now he wants your full attention on him. "Leave." He gives the simple command.

You track the sound of shuffling feet as you take him fully into your mouth, making him hiss a curse under his breath. Nuzzling your nose into his curly pubic hair you breathe in his musk, his heel grinding firmly and consistently against your hard cock, pleasure pulsing through your veins with such intensity you're worried you'll cum without permission, low whines escaping your throat.

He pulls you off him suddenly, your lungs burning as you gasp for air. You expect him to paint your face with his cum, stake an obvious ownership over you. But he doesn't, pulling you by the leash and leaning down to mash your lips together, teeth biting down on your lip until it bleeds.

Makarov's kisses are rough and demanding, the sweet drug your body's been craving, teeth clicking together and tongues swirling in each other's mouths. The firm grind of his boot against your crotch makes you moan lowly, a sound he happily swallows down and nearly shoves his tongue down your throat. You part far too soon, your body craving much much more, but he doesn't let you stew in the disappointment of a short kiss — it's an owner's responsibility to spoil his pet — mumbling against your lips. "Prepare me."

A full shudder runs down your spine and you surge to follow his order. Makarov loves the determined look you get in your eye just as much as he loves the rough way you grip his hips and hike them up so you can pull his pants and boxers down his legs. Your bloodied fingers grip his hips and pull them down until his ass hangs off the edge of the couch, throwing his legs over your shoulders and he can feel the muscles deep in his back strain as you nearly bend him in half, his hard cock and hole bared for you.

It's a vulnerable position, trapped between your bulky frame and the couch he has no way to escape. And if anyone else were to attempt this he would feed every inch of their flesh to themselves. But Makarov relishes the knowledge that he's in control, a single word from him would make you stop regardless of how hard and wanting you were, your loyalty to him as real as the dead man's blood you dip your fingers in to lube them.

Your fingers circle his hole before you press the pad of your finger against it. Without the heat of battle the cold viscousness of the blood feels disgusting, making him shiver and his rim flutter against your digit. But the discomfort is easily forgotten when you apply pressure, the steady and persistent way you push your finger in forcing his muscles to yield. "Shit-" Makarov clenches his teeth; your fingers are so large just one feels like two of his own, the gnawing pain of your finger pushing deeper just amplifying the pleasure of being stretched open and your other hand loosely stroking his wet cock.

You don't go slower than you need to, perfectly trained to know how to move your fingers to keep him teetering on the edge between pleasure and pain, each shift and slow drag of your finger pulling deep grunt and soft breaths from between his clenched teeth. "Yes, there you go." His praise makes your heart melt and cock throb in your pants, the pull of the leash bringing your lips together in another harsh kiss. You swallow his moans greedily, pushing a second finger in and curling them in search of his prostate, your thumb incessantly rubbing the space between his balls and ass to trap the spongy flesh between your fingers.

He nearly chokes you with how hard he yanks on the leash, hips pushing back into your hand and walls clenching down on your fingers. The stinging ache of being stretched open mixes with the building pleasure, leaving his skin feeling like a live wire. His teeth dig into your lip until it bleeds again, heels digging into your back. He grinds his hips down on your fingers, muttering praises against your lips as you push a third finger in and force him to take it.

He can't wait any more, gripping your hair and roughly yanking your head back. "Fuck me already." He growls, licking the blood staining your cheek.

You scramble to do as you're told, continuing to stretch him open as you undo your belt and pants with one hand, your hard cock bobbing against your abdomen. Pulling your fingers out you scoop up more blood, the cold helping reign in your lust as you lube up.

Before you can do anything he reaches out to grip the base of your cock, his hold firm and just at the cusp of pain. "You'll be good, yes?" He growls against your lips. "Fuck me good and hard?" His hand moves, stroking you slowly, evenly coating the blood along your cock. "I don't need to show you how to use this thing again, do I?" There's a dangerous edge in his voice.

Fear shoots down your spine, mouth going dry. You'd been too eager for human touch when he first let you mount him, and when you came seconds after getting inside him he'd been less than pleased by your abilities. You couldn't feel your cock for a full week after he'd tied you down and used your cock until you couldn't cum, using a cock ring to keep you hard and using you until he was satisfied.

You quickly shake your head. "No sir," You choke out and bare your throat. "I can do it, I'll be good." You promise.

His hold loosens, tugging you by the hair so he can peck your lips, his tongue licking over the small wound he'd made. "Don't fail me now."

You steel yourself like you're going to war, pressing your cockhead to his hole. Your nails dig into his hip, your grip ironclad to keep him still as you pull him down more and simultaneously push in. There's a second of resistance before your head pops in, the pleasure of entering his velvet soft insides being met with sharp pain as his teeth chomp down on your shoulder through your shirt. It all mixes in your brain into pure bliss, your hips bucking up into him automatically until you're bottomed out. You hold him close to you and leisurely grind your hips, letting him get used to the mind numbing stretch.

Fuck— Makarov may see the appeal of brutes but impaled on your cock he feels like he's being split in two, lungs burning and he can almost swear your tip's poking his diaphragm. He chases the pain more than the pleasure, heels digging into your back to give him some leverage so he can push his hips into yours. "Yes," His head lolls back when you slowly withdraw, only to suddenly snap your hips and hilt yourself inside him again. "-fuck, yes!"

The blood keeps you from tearing him apart but there's too little of it to keep him from feeling the painful stretch, the slow movement of your hips making his thighs shake. "Harder," He demands, yanking on your leash and biting your shoulder again. "Make me feel it." His voice is rough with a demand, because men like him never beg.

"Yes sir," You manage, bracing your feet and setting a rough pace, rutting into him like an animal. He muffles his sounds into your shoulder as your cock saws into him, his walls fluttering and clenching around you so tightly it feels like he'll snap your cock off. You do your best to focus on him and his pleasure, but the tight heat of his hole is rapidly melting any control you have, your cock throbbing and leaking precum inside him.

"Sir, please-" You whine, your muscles tight and your balls feeling so full you feel like you'll burst, your voice full of need. "I'm so close."

“Not yet.” He growls, pushing his hips down to meet your thrusts, your hand stroking his cock. “Make me cum first.” He growls.

You hold back a pathetic whine and redouble your efforts, your rough thrusts bruising his ass as you fuck into him, aiming to nail his prostate every time you bottom out. He wails, whole body shaking, his cock throbbing in your hand and leaking a puddle of precum on his stomach.

Makarov cums without any warning, going rigid and biting your shoulder even harder as pearly cum shoots from his tip, his walls clamping down on your cock. "C- cum!" He snarls, voice muffled, and it's all you need. Bottoming out fully you moan as you shoot his insides full of your cum, rocking your hips and grinding your cock against his prostate to prolong both of our highs.

You hold him close as you come down to reality but the way his walls clench around your cock makes you feel like heaven. His hands grip your jaw, bringing you down into a disorganized sloppy kiss. He's boneless in your arms, his walls continuing to flutter around you. "That was good." He slurs, chest rising and falling as he tries to catch his breath. "Good dog."

The tug of the leash is expected and Makarov kisses the corner of your lips, tongue swiping across your skin to lick up more of the blood staining your lips. "Clean me up." He orders, "Lick up your mess." He growls, and there's not a single part of you that would refuse him.

Tag list: @lieutnt, @pastelclovds @thee-great-enigma @vladimirking24

[rhiangalaxy]

Shen Jiu and his plant son Shen Yuan <3 (ft. a bonus of YGY and LGG's very different methods of babysitting)

[ID: A Scum Villain Drawing. Shen Jiu holds Shen Yuan is his arms, staring towards the audience with a slightly scary, unamused expression. In his arms, Shen Yuan, dressed in Qing Jing teals and greens, appearing to be around the ages of four-six with a darker skin tone, a mole on his forehead and a green sprout popping out of his head, is gazing and reaching out amazedly at a demonic butterfly. End ID]

[ID: A Scum Villain Drawing. The top half depicts Yue Qingyuan, cradling a Shen Yuan that is wrapped in blankets and smiling. Then leaning in to give him a forehead kiss. The bottom half depicts Liu Qingge lifting SY by the ankle, much to SY's delight, and then moving him around to the back of himself with a faintly amused expression. End ID]

[alien-bluez]

Lark can't handle nice things, and as he says "always fucks it up."

Drew a scene from this fic here, please please go read it right now!

[here-comes-the-moose]

Crosshair, bitter youngest child: Are we seriously going to let Hunter keep Omega?

Tech, not looking up from his work: We let you keep Echo.

[mireyarowan]

Can’t quite figure out how to make the situation totally plausible - but was just imaging Ghost captured by the enemy and they’re torturing him for info. His shirt has been torn off and they spot an elegant script tattoo reading ‘MacTavish’. The enemy assumes he’s a proud Scotsman, since they know Ghost is SAS just not who exactly he is until they think the tattoo gives them that answer. Ghost hasn’t said a word yet, but would rather die than give any info on Johnny up, so when he does talk he perfectly fakes a Scottish accent.

Bonus - Ghost’s mic is picking all this up from where it was sloppily left on with his gear that’s piled in the corner and the 141 listening in to try and figure out a rescue mission with Soap losing his mind over listening to Ghost speaking in a Scottish accent and trying so hard to protect his Johnny.

[brainmuncher]

Many years ago, in a different country, a set of twins were born. In another room, a runaway league of assassin also gave birth to a baby boy.

To punish the runaway, a hit was put on their newborn son. The assassin silently traversed the hospital and grabbed the baby from off the cart as the nurse was distracted.

After successfully securing the child the assassin ran off into the woods behind the hospital. They grinned to themselves as this was their first mission and glad to have made such a great success. Preparing a dagger in one hand they raise it above the child to strike when...

The wristband on the baby twisted to look at them, and with horror, they read the last name 'Grayson'.

They kidnapped one of the Grayson twins...

In a panic, they threw the baby into the woods and fled back to the hospital. But by the time they got there to kill the real baby they were sent for it was too late. The runaway assassin and the child were gone.

Meanwhile, two ectobiologists scour the woods behind a hospital on their honeymoon. What better way to celebrate marriage than with ghost hunting in a new country!

Then they hear the sounds of crying... suffering spooks! Is that a baby? Well we already have our daughter... why not give her a new baby brother :)

Dick notices that Talia gives him a weird look whenever she sees him. It's one that he has never seen her wear towards any of the other bats, so it bothers him.

Then one day after Damian and him defeat an assassin sent to kill Damian Talia shows up and says something that makes Dicks blood run cold.

“I'm so glad that you're the Grayson twin that hadn't been killed.”

[faeriekit]

The Foster Mother

Now on ao3 and VHS release

There was, supposedly, someone waiting for him in the green sitting room.

“…Why?” Tim asked. Most of the usual suspects had already come by to give their “condolences”—former Drakes Industries investors, curious about the newly orphaned heir; fellow socialites, once again flocking in to give and receive sympathies for their “close friends, the Drakes”; gawkers come to see what they could scavenge off of a dead family’s home, never mind that their child was alive.

“She claims to know you, Master Tim,” Alfred offered, kettle in his hand. He spent a moment deciding between different two canisters of tea; a sign of possibly difficult future conversation. “Her interest in your father's estate seemed quite…minimal.”

…Alright.

Tim was still in his formalwear. Dissolving Drake Industries would take at least another year, and plenty of future hours cementing the future home of certain resources in their dissolution, but the outfit probably was more appropriate for whatever oncoming conversation that was about to ensue than his planned change into Dick’s old hoodie and board shorts.

Okay. Tim steeled himself. The self-determination…mostly worked. Whatever. He trudged up into the green sitting room from the kitchen with his usual introduction ready on his tongue.

And then Tim walked into the room.

And then Jazzy was there.

*

Tim had been three, and Miss Jasmine had been his had been his third nanny. He’d outgrown the wetnurse early on, and his second nanny had been dismissed, so although Miss Jasmine was the third nanny, she was first nanny Tim could consciously remember.

She’d had red hair. She’d been very gentle with him.

She got him up in the morning and put him to bed at night; for the first time, there had been someone who sat with him until he was asleep, reading all sorts of books his parents had left to engage him with as an early genius. Then, when those were over and done as promised to his parents, they got unauthorized books from the library: silly books with made-up words, dinosaur books, books about teddy bears and adventures around the world.

Tim hadn’t been allowed to travel the world. Tim hadn’t been allowed a teddy bear. His parents had thought it would encourage undue attachment.

(It had been the same reason he’d never been given a pacifier.)

Miss Jazz had given him a knitted bunny. She’d said her dad had made it especially for him.

The toy’s name was Bunny and Tim remembered him being very soft.

She didn’t smile all the time, but smiles were rewards that were easy to earn. He finished his meal and she smiled. He finished an educational puzzle and she smiled. He was quiet all through her phone call and she smiled, and answered all his questions once she was done.

Jazzy had been the first person in his life who was there all the time. She’d kissed his forehead after the bath and kissed his scraped knees; she’d carried him in his arms when he was tired and sometimes even when he wasn’t. His parents had wanted him to be independent, proactive, and not clingy, but Jazzy had been someone who he could run to from his bed when he’d had nightmares and someone he could cuddle on her lap with when he’d cried.

She was gone when he was seven. He didn’t remember why. His parents had probably never told him, but still; he'd assumed he'd have found out why eventually.

Jazzy looked the same right now as she looked in Tim’s memories, although she was likely no longer a college student at a nannying gig. Her red hair was pulled into a high bun, her dress modest and conservative from her neck to her ankles. There was a backpack beside her foot. She was sitting, one leg crossed over the other, on the high-backed loveseat in the green sitting room.

She looked up when he came in.

Tim. Stopped in his tracks.

It didn’t matter. Jazzy—Miss Jasmine stood up as soon as she saw him, eyes alight with worry. Foggy memories were swimming to the forefront of Tim’s brain. He couldn’t move.

“Tim?” Ja—Miss Jasmine asked, teal eyes raking over his frame. Tim froze where he was. He didn’t move, wide-eyed and terrified for no reason at all when Miss Jasmine got closer to him, at a distance that was more appropriate for a conversation.

She stood there. Watching him. It felt like his mother had just come home from her trips with Dad, and a ghost of old terror wafted through him as he waited for her to decide he’d done something wrong. Her voice got softer. Her eyes got softer. Why was Tim feeling so wrong-footed?? It was only a former staff person!

“Tim?” her voice was so gentle. “I don’t know if you remember me. I’m—“

“M’s Jazz,” Tim croaked. Which. Wasn’t the level of formality he’d been going for, but better than Jazzy. He wasn’t a toddler anymore.

Miss Jasmine was so tall—honestly, was she taller than Bruce? She’d seemed insurmountable as a child; he hadn’t expected her height to truly be so statuesque as an adult.

(Or. Well. Almost an adult.)

She didn’t quite kneel down, but she did stoop lower, as if Tim was small and he needed to be on equal footing in order to have a serious conversation.

He could see all her freckles. Tim swallowed. It was too familiar. Everything about her was too familiar.

“You’re so big now,” Jazzy whispered, looking at his hair, his suit, his polished shoes. He didn’t feel it. “Oh, you’ve grown up so well.”

Thanks, Tim almost said. Something stopped him—something thick in his throat, to impassable to break through.

“I—“ he tried. He coughed. “Why…you… You’re here?”

Jazzy threw him an incredulous look, and then an incredibly wry one. “Well,” she drawled a little too primly, in the way that Alfred occasionally made obvious statements, “I’d think it obvious that when one’s parents have passed away, that those who care about you might come to check and see if you’re alright.”

Which. That didn’t make sense. Jazzy hadn’t come back for any other reason; she hadn’t come back for his mother’s funeral, nor when his father was injured publicly by a villain. Why start now?

“And,” Jazz added, seeing his visual confusion and distrust, “Your parents can’t exactly threaten me with a kidnapping charge for visiting you when they’re dead.” Pause. “Which I am sorry about. My condolences.”

Which. Whiplash. What a statement.

“Uh,” said Tim, who was rapidly losing control over the situation.

Jazzy stood again, and went back to her seat; she didn’t set herself down, though, as she only stooped to grab her backpack. “I am sorry for being unable to visit, although I really wanted to; you were at a very vulnerable age and had already moved into a class a year above you, and your parents should have been less hasty about replacing your main caretaker. The assassination attempts were unwarranted, but they did drive the point home that attempting contact was perhaps discouraged.”

“What,” said Tim. “Assassin what.”

“They were ninjas,” Jazzy offered, as if that was an answer. “Except the last one, which was a former marine. The point is that I do care about you, and wanted to ask if you had any idea where you’re going now that your parents are no longer…available guardians.”

Tim’s mouth opened. It closed.

Jazzy waited patiently.

“…How have you been?” Tim tried, resorting to a part of the script they hadn’t gone through yet.

Jazzy’s laugh was tired, but no less real. It was nothing like listening to his parents titter politely; he didn’t think Jazzy would even know how to fake a laugh. “Well, my brother told me that my former bosses had died, which was somewhat stressful. Otherwise, I’m pretty happy: I live with my brother and worked with him for the last few years. I was going to pursue medicine, but…well. The assassination attempts made it hard to interview for scholarships. I suppose that I could return to that now,” Jazzy mused, attention now elsewhere. She pulled the backpack off the floor and up into her grip. She opened it, and flipped through its contents. “How are you doing? I know that Wayne Manor fosters, but your parents were always rather…hands off. I thought the difference in levels of attention might be overwhelming.”

It was. Tim should be surprised how clearly she sees through him—

—But Jazzy used to watch him stim for almost a full hour after school, twisting Bunny’s arms back and forth until he could calm down. Seeing other people all day had been too much for him. Coming home from his parents’ parties had been similarly stressful.

She’d never been mad at him for it. She held him while he talked and stimmed and talked and talked and talked, and brushed his hair sometimes, or if it was very late and he was very young, helped him brush his teeth through all the medieval execution facts he could name.

“It is a lot to get used to,” Tim agreed quietly. He didn’t want to be ungrateful. He didn’t want to let on anyone about his plan to leave.

He had an out. The papers had already been filed; there was an actor waiting to play his uncle for a custody battle, ready for the fight.

Tim was ready to up and go. It was no hardship to leave all the good things here; anything beat making Bruce stick his fingers into Tim any deeper than they already were, compromising the dynamic they’d already established.

It was for the best.

“I can imagine,” Jazzy sympathized easily. “And I wanted to offer—well. I know there’s probably a lot of choices available to you, but my brother and I recently moved back to Gotham proper for the time being. He’s teaching astronomy courses at the university and I’m filing paperwork for Arkham patients. It’s not so privileged a home, but it’s quieter, and more central in town.”

…Tim’s heart skipped.

He. He couldn’t stop staring. Jazzy stared back at him, quiet and sure. Sure of what, Tim had no idea, but…

Why? Why would she want Tim? There was no way she would be able to get to his trust fund without his help, and he for sure knew better than to enable her ability to leech from him. The last time she’d known him, Tim had been a snot-nosed kid who cried all the time and couldn’t be normal for twenty consecutive minutes. His parents couldn’t even stand to be on the same hemisphere as him as a child. What appeal did this have for her?? What could having a teenager with severe baggage living in her house do for her?

And it’s not like there was any chance she knew he was Robin!

“Oh,” Jazzy suddenly interrupted. “I brought these for you, by the way. Your parents had tossed them out at various points; I’ve washed them since, of course.”

She handed him the backpack by the handle.

…Tim peeked inside.

On top was Bunny, still a washed-out faded sort of pink. He looked as fresh as he had the day when Tim’s parents had ”cleaned out” Tim’s nursery—in other words, a faded, a little gray, and slightly discolored from an old spaghetti stain. His button eyes were big and blue.

And beneath him were books that hadn’t passed his father’s muster as appropriately masculine reading material: The Velveteen Rabbit, with the cover a little scarred from a fierce attack of wet wipes. There’s A Monster at the End of This Book, with a goofy-looking Muppet on the cover, gold spine beat up beyond belief. Art Tim’s teacher at the time must have laminated and sent home; Tim’s dorky, crayon cat proved he would never make it as an artist, but attached to it was a photograph of a grinning boy with a bowl cut and a missing tooth.

Tim stared. There’d been purple marker on his hands and face. His grin looked…really bad, actually, like as if he was baring his teeth because he didn’t know how to smile. There was no formal grace there. Nothing to show the neighbors, nothing worth framing to put into the line of sight of the investors in the office.

Jazzy had kept it and brought it home with her. Jazzy had fished it out of the trash, and brought it with her to give back to him in Gotham.

It was crinkled like it’d been folded, over and over again. Further down in the bag was a crumpled certificate dedicated to “Timmy Drake, for: knowing a lot about octopi”, and a baby blanket Tim didn’t even remember. It had rocket ships on it. It looked as if someone had cut into it with scissors, although it had been obviously and brightly mended with red embroidery floss later on.

Jazzy had only been his nanny until Tim was seven. She had simply been gone one night, and Mom and Dad had been home for ten nights after without help before giving in and hiring Mrs. McIlvane and Mrs. Edith. Ms. Edith had never been so…permissive…with Tim as Jazzy had been.

Tim swallowed. He carefully put everything back into the backpack, unsure if he even wanted to keep it or not. It wasn’t like he could leave it here; he’d be gone, ideally, before the week was out. There was no point in taking it with him if he only planned to live with a stranger until he was eighteen.

“J…” Tim tried. He cut himself off before he could get too informal without prompting. “Miss Jasmine—“

“Just Jazz,” Jazzy corrected politely.

“—Why are you here?” Tim asked, ignoring how she’d technically already answered. He didn’t believe her. “What made my parents fire you?”

Jazzy’s expression turned…soft. Tim couldn’t look at her. Something horrible was welling with it, and he didn’t know how to cope.

“I’m here because I care about you,” Jazz repeated, and knelt beside him. She looked up into his face, and took his hand. Tim didn’t know why. He was practically an adult—he didn’t need this!

“And I was fired because your Mother overheard you calling me ‘Mommy’ on accident when you were tired. I suppose she was insulted, although I’d never know why; it’s not like she was ever home to bond with you in the first place.”

Tim’s throat closed. He missed his mom. He missed waiting up for his parents’ flight home, seeing their headlights outside the window, and knowing they’d bring home gifts from overseas. He missed using Mom’s perfume, and knowing he’d used more of the bottle sitting on her dressed than she ever had, but that it still smelled like her. He missed hearing his Dad telling all sorts of adventure stories and promises through the phone to be home for the holidays, even if Tim knew there was every chance he’d find some other way to spend the time back in Gotham.

And there was some small child in him who missed Jazzy, who hugged him and walked him to the library and made him soup from a can instead of fancy dinners and, who’d never needed to be waited for in the first place.

Tim looked at Jazzy’s round, freckled face.

He swallowed.

Tim moved out before the end of the week, as expected.

[angelhisu]

Lets Play [Sevika x Fem!Reader](NSFW)

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── notes: this is my first post and attempt at an x reader and a smut, so i hope you enjoy!! follows and interactions appreciated, mdni! my requests are open! wc: 7k+ cw: humiliation, sevika puts a cigarette out on the readers thigh, but thats it really. ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Sevika sat perfectly still, her hand resting on your leg and her arm wrapped securely around your waist as she studied her cards with laser focus. Her poker face remained flawless despite the way you were perched on her lap so pretty. After a moment of deliberation, she laid her cards down with confidence, eliciting groans of frustration from the men across the table.

A cigarillo dangled from her lips, one that was in your mouth just moments ago, spinning lazily as she worked it with her tongue. When her opponents slammed their cards onto the table in defeat, acknowledging her victory, a triumphant grin spread across her face.

As Sevika gathered her winnings, she grinned around the cigarillo clamped between her teeth, unfazed by the grumbling men at the table. One of which shot her a sour look, muttering something too low to catch. His composure shattered when Sevika slapped her good hand firmly on the table, the sound sharp enough to silence the room.

"What was that?" she demanded, her tone slicing through the tense air.

The man paled, his confidence crumbling under her glare. "Nothin'," he muttered, eyes darting away as though looking anywhere else would save him.

Sevika's gaze hardened, her teeth clenched as she leaned forward. "I said… what were you saying?" Her voice carried an edge that made the man flinch further.

He shrank back into his chair, swallowing hard before mumbling, "You just got lucky, that's all." The words sounded weak, even to him.

A sly smile tugged at Sevika's lips as she leaned back, drawing you closer to her. Taking the cigarillo between her fingers, she exhaled a plume of smoke before speaking. "Luck? Nah, you're just a sore loser." The man opened his mouth to retort, but his friend quickly cut in. "She's right, man. Let it go. You lost." His words, though whispered, carried a finality that made further protests seem pointless. The man grumbled under his breath but fell silent, his frustration evident yet subdued.

With a laugh, Sevika tightened her arm around you and drew you in. As you sat on her lap, the men at the table looked at you, sweeping their gazes over your body. Taking note, Sevika narrowed her eyes and gave them a threatening look.

"Stop looking at her.." Her voice was deep and rumbling as she hissed. The men at the table realized their error and hurriedly averted their gaze. Sevika's fingers tightened their hold on your thigh, which made you let out a little squeak but you only smiled. The display always made you feel better, especially looking at all the other pretty girls in this place. As Sevika glanced down at you, her sharp gaze softened momentarily, only to harden again as she turned her attention back to the table. She exhaled a lazy stream of smoke from her cigarillo, the faint scent of tobacco curling in the air. Her thumb traced slow, deliberate circles over your hipbone, her hand sliding from your thigh to settle possessively on your waist.

The men at the table shifted awkwardly in their seats, eyes flickering everywhere but toward the intimate way Sevika touched you. Their flushed faces betrayed their discomfort, though none dared to comment.

Catching their reaction, Sevika’s lips curved into a sly grin. She leaned in closer, her breath warm against your ear as she murmured, “They just can’t stop staring, can they?” Her voice was a low, gravelly purr. “Lucky for them, I’m feeling generous tonight. Otherwise, I’d be breaking their noses.” She took another slow drag, blowing a stream of smoke toward the table, deliberately casual in her threat. Her smirk deepened as she wrapped her arm around you more tightly, a protective gesture that left no room for misinterpretation. After another pull from her cigarillo, she leaned down, her voice dropping lower so only you could hear. “They’re jealous. Not just of you, but of the fact they’ll never have anyone half as pretty in their lap.”

You tilted your head with a playful smile. “I think they’re more jealous of your winning streak,” you quipped, glancing at her cards. “I mean, you haven’t lost a single hand tonight. What’s your secret?” Sevika chuckled, her grip tightening as she pulled you closer, her amused gaze meeting yours. “Skill, baby,” she replied, her voice dripping with confidence. The men at the table exchanged sour glances, their grumbling unmistakable as they tried and failed to mask their irritation. Sevika noticed, of course, her smirk widening as her hand gripped your hip firmly, her fingers likely leaving faint imprints.

“What’s wrong, boys?” she mocked, her tone dripping with derision as she took another drag of her cigarillo. “Don’t like it when someone else has what you want?” Her grin was a wicked slash of teeth, daring anyone to challenge her. "Sev.." You giggle, leaning into her touch slightly. Her fingers may be gripping you tightly but it didn't really hurt, if anything it just left an ache waiting to be cured. It was entertaining watching her taunt these guys, but sometimes you couldn’t help but feel a little bad for them.

Sevika chuckled softly at your little act, her smirk softening into a rare smile as she pulled you even closer. Her fingers flexed against your hip, giving it another firm squeeze. “Yeah, baby?” she murmured, tilting her head to look down at you. The men at the table muttered under their breath, shooting envious glances at Sevika’s possessive hand resting on you.

"How much longer are we going to stay here?" you whined, tilting your head and fluttering your lashes for effect. It wasn’t like you needed to, though—Sevika only ever gave one of two answers: either she’d get annoyed and remind you that she called the shots, or you’d manage to sway her in your favour. Her hand slid from your hip to your chin, gently but firmly tilting your face up to meet her gaze. Her eyes narrowed slightly, and a cocky grin tugged at her lips. She took a slow drag from her cigarillo, exhaling the smoke deliberately, making the men at the table shift in discomfort.

“We’ll leave when I say we’re leaving,” she said, her tone calm but commanding. Her grip on your chin held you in place, her thumb brushing lightly over your jawline. The men grumbled among themselves again, their annoyance palpable as they cast sidelong glances at you both.

You rolled your eyes, trying to hide your irritation as you leaned back slightly. “And how long will that be?” you asked, feigning nonchalance but knowing exactly how far to push her. Sevika’s smile faltered for a split second, replaced by a dark glint in her eyes. Her grip on your chin tightened, not painfully but with enough firmness to demand your attention. “Don’t start with me, sweetheart,” she warned in a gravelly voice, her tone dripping with authority. The table fell silent, the tension thick in the air as Sevika held your gaze, daring you to challenge her again.

The men at the table smirked and chuckled, their eyes darting between you and Sevika, clearly entertained by the dynamic playing out before them. One leaned back in his chair, arms crossed and a smug grin on his face. “Looks like the little lady’s getting tired of you,” he quipped, his tone dripping with mockery. Sevika’s jaw tightened, her eyes narrowing dangerously as she turned her gaze toward him. “Watch yourself,” she growled, her voice low and laced with warning. The sharp edge in her tone made it clear this wasn’t an idle threat.

You couldn’t resist adding fuel to the fire. “Maybe he’s got a point, Sev,” you teased, your voice light and playful as you deliberately poked at her temper. Part of you wanted to see just how far you could push her, a dangerous game fueled equally by boredom and the thrill of what might come next. Sevika’s jaw clenched tighter, her irritation simmering just below the surface. She took a measured breath, trying to rein in her temper, but your deliberate defiance was testing her patience.

The men at the table snickered, clearly enjoying the show. Their laughter was a low hum in the background, adding to Sevika’s mounting frustration. “Careful, sweetheart,” she warned, her voice dropping to a gravelly growl. “You’re treading on thin ice.”

You only smirked, savouring the way her control was starting to crack. Tilting your head, you batted your lashes, the picture of sweet, false innocence. “But I’m not doing anything wrong, Sevvie,” you cooed, your tone sugary and insincere, knowing full well you were stoking the fire on purpose. The men’s laughter grew louder as Sevika’s eye twitched, the muscle in her jaw ticking with restrained anger. Her fingers flexed, her frustration palpable, and you couldn’t help but enjoy the way she struggled to keep her composure. For now.

Sevika’s jaw tightened as she gritted her teeth, her patience hanging by a thread. Your continued teasing, especially in front of an audience, was pushing her dangerously close to the edge. Her grip on your chin grew firmer, her darkened gaze locking onto yours.“You’re playing a very dangerous game, baby,” she growled, her voice low and laced with warning. The sharp edge in her tone made it clear she wasn’t bluffing. The men at the table chuckled, enjoying the spectacle, though neither of you seemed to care about their presence anymore.

You giggled softly, loving the way Sevika’s frustration simmered just beneath the surface. Tilting your head, you looked at her with wide, feigned innocent eyes, knowing exactly how much she hated this little act. “Oh, am I?” you replied, your voice dripping with mock innocence. “I’m just sitting here, being a good girl, Sevvie.” The nickname rolled off your tongue without thinking, it came rather naturally really, but god did it affect the woman. Her eyes darkened further, the muscle in her jaw twitching as her restraint wore thinner with every word. You bit your lip to stifle the grin threatening to break out, knowing it was only a matter of time before she snapped. And then it happened.

Sevika stood abruptly, releasing your chin as she slammed her fist onto the table. The loud thud reverberated through the room, making the men at the table jump in their seats. Her growl was low and dangerous as she spat, “That’s it.” The men froze, staring at Sevika in a mix of shock and fear as her icy glare swept over them.

“Get out,” she barked, her voice menacing and final. “All of you.”

They didn’t need to be told twice. Chairs scraped against the floor as they scrambled to leave, avoiding her glare as though it might physically burn them. Within moments, the table was empty except for the two of you. Sevika’s shoulders relaxed slightly as she turned back to you, her glare softening into something more playful, though no less intense. Her eyes roved over you, taking in the mischievous smirk on your lips and the gleam of mischief in your eyes. Slowly, her lips curled into a predatory smirk as she stepped forward.

Her strong hands found your hips, pulling you up from the chair with ease. The air between you crackled with tension as she leaned in close, her voice low and dripping with mockery. You played your cards well, but Sevika would always win.

“You think you’re so clever, don’t you?” she murmured, her grip on your hips tightening possessively. “Did you have fun with your little show, darling? Pushing me like that in front of them?” The teasing edge in her voice sent a shiver down your spine, but you didn’t back down, knowing Sevika loved it when you played with fire.

The dimly lit room was heavy with the scent of tobacco and leather, the tension between you and Sevika almost tangible. She lounged back in her chair, a cigarillo dangling lazily from her lips, the faint red glow reflecting in her sharp, dark eyes. “You think I didn’t notice?” she asked, her voice low and gravelly, the dangerous kind of calm that made your heart race.

You swallowed hard, trying to hold her gaze, but the weight of her authority pressed down on you like a vice. Her smirk grew as she watched you shift in place, knowing she had you exactly where she wanted. “Come here,” she commanded, her tone leaving no room for argument.

You shuffled closer to the edge of the table, your breath hitching as she reached out, her calloused fingers trailing over your wrist before pulling you firmly into her. Her other hand plucked the cigarillo from her lips, the ember glowing brighter as she took one last drag, exhaling smoke in a slow, deliberate plume. “You’ve been testing me tonight,” she said, her voice dangerously soft, her eyes boring into yours. “You want to play games? Fine by me. Let’s play.”

Before you could react, Sevika gripped your chin, tilting your head up to meet her gaze. Her smirk widened as she leaned in, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispered, “But you’re going to feel what happens when you lose.” She reached down, her hand sliding up your thigh with an agonizing slowness that left you breathless. Her fingers gripped the soft flesh of your inner thigh, her strength both commanding and intoxicating.

Then, without warning, she pressed the still-burning end of her cigarillo against your skin. A sharp hiss escaped your lips as the heat seared into you, pain blooming and then fading into a throbbing sting. You gasped, your nails digging into Sevika’s broad shoulders as your body jolted in her grip.

“Shh,” she cooed mockingly, her voice rich with satisfaction as she watched your reaction. “You can take it. You wanted my attention, didn’t you?” Her hand remained firm on your thigh, grounding you as her thumb brushed over the freshly marked spot. The pain mingled with something deeper- an electrifying intensity that left you trembling under her gaze. “There,” she murmured, tossing the extinguished cigarillo aside as she leaned back to admire her work. “Now you’ll remember who you’re playing with and whose bed you keep crawling into.”

Her hand slid up to your jaw, gripping it just firmly enough to make your breath hitch again. “Next time you want to act out, think twice. Or don’t,” she added with a wicked smirk, leaning in to brush her lips over yours. “I’d love an excuse to remind you all again.” With a final, teasing sneer, Sevika let go of your jaw and took a step back, watching you sit there, flushed and agitated on the table. She giggled in a low, delighted tone that sent shivers down your spine.

"C'mon, sweetheart." She spoke with a tone of authority. "Let's go home."

You felt a wave of humiliation at Sevika's demand, unwilling to admit that she had won this game. You crossed your arms across your chest, frowned at her, and pouted slightly. "I'm not done here." You huffed, your voice tinged with petulance.

Sevika's eyes furrowed as she gazed down at you, and her grin faded as she took in your stubborn demeanour. She approached you, her hand still resting possessively on your thigh just above where she had burned and caused an uncomfortable aching pain there. "Oh, yeah, you are. We are leaving, princess." She spoke strongly, leaving no space for debate. "You were complaining earlier about wanting to go home, so you interrupted my game and cut my winnings short. And now you want to stay?”

Sevika tightened her grasp on your leg and gave you a stern, disapproving gaze. Her tone made it obvious that there was no room for disagreement. "You're coming with me," she announced strongly. "And you will behave yourself while we're leaving, understood?"

You narrowed your eyes at her assertive tone, and your stubborn, brattiness took over for a moment, making you want to test her patience even further. “What if I refuse?” You challenged, tilting your chin up defiantly.

Sevika's eyes darkened with your repeated disobedience, and her grasp on your thigh became bruising. She leaned in, her voice low and threatening. "Then I'll have to make you" She grasped your hips and hauled you off the table in one forceful motion, putting you on your feet. Her grasp on you remained tight, she had no intention of letting you go.

"I thought the burn would be enough to shock your ass into shape." Sevika cooed down at her, "But you obviously need more. You needed more pain; you could have just asked, but instead, you pissed me off." Sevika didn’t loosen her grip for a second as she practically dragged you out of the bar. Her hand stayed firm on your arm, her fingers digging into your skin just enough to remind you of her strength without crossing the line into true pain - yet.

The cool night air hit your skin as the door swung shut behind you, but it did nothing to quell the heat rising between you and Sevika. “Keep up,” she growled, her tone dripping with frustration. “I’m not in the mood to deal with your attitude tonight.”

You yanked against her grip, planting your feet for just a moment to try and slow her down. “Maybe if you weren’t so bossy, I wouldn’t have one,” you snapped back, your voice laced with defiance.

Sevika stopped dead in her tracks, turning to face you with a glare so sharp it made your stomach flip. Her free hand shot out, gripping your jaw firmly and tilting your face up to meet her gaze. “You want to keep running that mouth?” she asked, her voice low and dangerous. “Because I can promise you, sweetheart, the more you push me, the worse this walk is going to get for you.”

You huffed, trying to pull away, but her grip on your arm tightened, her fingers pressing into your flesh with a bruising intensity. “Let go of me,” you spat, glaring back at her with all the defiance you could muster.

Sevika’s lips curled into a dark smirk, though her eyes remained cold and unamused. “Cute,” she muttered, “but you’re not going anywhere.” Without another word, she turned and hoisted you up like you weighed nothing, throwing you over her shoulder in one swift motion.

“Sevika!” you shrieked, kicking your legs in protest as her arm locked firmly around your thighs to keep you in place. “Keep screaming,” she said flatly, her tone almost bored as she resumed walking. “It’s not like anyone’s going to help you. They all know better.”

Your fists pounded against her back, but she didn’t so much as flinch. Her boots thudded against the cobblestones with an unrelenting rhythm, her grip unyielding as she carried you toward her apartment. “I can walk!” you snapped, trying to wriggle out of her hold. Sevika snorted, her laugh dark and humourless. “Not with the way you’re acting, you can’t. You won't.”

She adjusted her hold on you slightly, her fingers brushing against the tender spot on your inner thigh where the burn still tingled. You gasped at the contact, and she chuckled lowly, clearly pleased by your reaction. “Hurts, doesn’t it?” she said, her voice mocking. “Maybe you’ll finally get it through that thick skull of yours who’s in charge.”

By the time you reached her apartment, your protests had grown quieter, though the fire in your gaze hadn’t dimmed. Sevika set you down on your feet, her hands gripping your shoulders firmly as she stared down at you, her expression hard. “Inside,” she ordered, nodding toward the door.You hesitated for a split second, debating whether to push her just a little further. But the bruising grip of her hands and the icy steel in her gaze warned you that you’d already walked a fine line tonight.

“Now,” she snapped, her voice cracking through the silence like a whip. With a begrudging sigh, you stepped inside, your stubbornness giving way to the quiet thrill of knowing exactly how much you’d tested her—and the promise of what might come next.

As soon as you stepped through the door, Sevika was behind you, kicking it shut with a loud thud. Her hand gripped your wrist tightly, spinning you around to face her. The intensity in her eyes pinned you in place, leaving you breathless and suddenly very aware of just how small you felt in her presence. “You’ve got some nerve,” she growled, her voice low and gravelly, vibrating through you. She backed you against the wall, her body towering over yours, her broad frame blocking any escape.

Your bratty defiance faltered as you pressed yourself against the cold surface, your heart pounding in your chest. Sevika’s hand came up, grabbing your jaw firmly and forcing you to look up at her. “Where’s all that fire now, huh?” she taunted, her smirk dark and teasing. “You had so much to say out there.” You tried to glare, but the heat in her gaze melted away your resistance. Your lips parted to respond, but the words died in your throat as her hand slid down from your jaw to your throat, her grip just firm enough to make your knees weak.

“Thought so,” she murmured, leaning in close, her breath hot against your ear. “You’re not as tough as you pretend to be, are you? This is what you wanted all along, sweet hopeless thing…” Your head tilted back slightly, your body betraying you as you leaned into her touch. Her free hand grabbed your waist, pulling you flush against her, the strength in her hold making it clear she was fully in control.

“Say it,” she commanded, her tone brooking no argument. Her thumb brushed over your pulse, and you shivered under her touch.

“Say what?” you whispered, your voice barely audible, your defiance crumbling under her dominance. “Say you’ll behave,” she demanded, her lips brushing against your ear. “Say you’re done being a little brat.” Your breath hitched, and for a moment, you hesitated, still clinging to the last remnants of your stubbornness. But Sevika’s grip on your throat tightened slightly—not enough to hurt, just enough to remind you who was in charge.

“I’ll behave,” you finally whispered, your voice trembling with submission.

“Good girl,” Sevika murmured, her tone softening ever so slightly as her lips ghosted over the corner of your mouth. “See how easy that was?” Her hand left your throat, sliding down to rest on your waist. You let out a shaky breath, your body relaxing under her touch as the tension between you shifted. Her smirk returned, this time more teasing than dangerous. “Now, let’s see if you can keep that promise,” she said, her voice dripping with challenge as her hands gripped your hips possessively.

Sevika’s hands on your hips tightened her strength both grounding and utterly overwhelming. She pulled you closer, her smirk growing as she felt the slight tremble in your legs. Her dominance was suffocating in the most intoxicating way, and she knew it.

“Look at you,” she murmured, her tone low and laced with condescension. “All that attitude, and now you’re shaking like a leaf. Where’d all that fight go, huh?” Her hands trailed down to your thighs, effortlessly lifting you off the ground and pressing you firmly against the wall. Your arms instinctively wrapped around her neck, and her smirk turned into a wicked grin. “That’s more like it,” she purred, her voice dripping with satisfaction as she leaned in, her lips ghosting over your neck. “See how much easier this is when you just do as you’re told?”

You shivered as her teeth grazed your skin, her breath hot against your throat. Your nails dug into her shoulders as her grip on your thighs became almost bruising, holding you in place as if daring you to try and wriggle free.

“Sevika,” you breathed, her name slipping past your lips before you could stop it. Her head tilted, her dark eyes locking onto yours with a look that made your stomach flip. “That’s what I thought,” she murmured, her tone smug and possessive. She leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was all teeth and dominance, claiming you in a way that left no room for doubt. Your defiance was gone, melted away under the sheer intensity of her control, leaving you pliant in her arms.

Her lips trailed from your mouth to your jaw, then down to the curve of your neck, her teeth grazing your skin just enough to make you gasp. “You’re a little bitch sometimes,” she growled against your throat, her voice rough and filled with dark promise. “But that's okay, I like you that way.”

You whimpered softly in response, your fingers tangling in her hair as she pressed her body against yours, her strength overwhelming and utterly addictive. “Good,” she whispered, her tone dripping with satisfaction. “Now, let’s see how well you can follow orders when it really counts.” She put her down, gripping a handful of hair and yanking her towards the floor.

“You remember where the bedroom is, right sweetheart?” Sevika smirked down at her, using the grip on her hair to pull your ear close to her lips giving it a small bite. “Now crawl.”

You froze for a moment, your brain trying to catch up to speed did she just ask you to crawl? You didn’t have much time to question it before you were forced down only catching yourself upon instinct. “Sevika-”

Before you could finish saying her name, Sevika’s grip on your hair tightened, tugging your head back just enough to make your spine arch. Her smirk deepened, her sharp gaze cutting through the defiance lingering in your eyes. “Don’t make me repeat myself,” she growled, her voice low and commanding. Her free hand slid down to the back of your neck, pressing just enough to keep you in place on your hands and knees. “You wanted to push my buttons all night, baby. Now you’ll see what happens when you do.”

Your breath hitched as the heat of her dominance washed over you. The humiliation of being on all fours was almost too much, but Sevika’s control was intoxicating, leaving you both humiliated and aroused.

“Move,” she ordered, her grip on your hair loosening just slightly as she gave you a nudge forward with her boot. With a shaky breath, you began crawling, your cheeks burning as you felt her intense gaze on you. Her boots thudded softly against the floor as she followed behind you, her steps deliberate and slow, reminding you of each one who was in charge.

“That’s it,” she murmured, her voice laced with mock approval. “Good girl. I knew you’d learn eventually.”

Your fingers dug into the floor as you crawled toward the bedroom, every nerve in your body alight under Sevika’s watchful eyes. You could feel her presence like a storm brewing behind you, the tension building with every step. When you reached the doorway, you paused, glancing over your shoulder at her. The smirk on her face was darker now, her eyes glinting with satisfaction.

“Did I say stop?” she asked, tilting her head as she crossed her arms, her broad shoulders looking even more imposing under the dim light. You swallowed hard and shook your head, quickly resuming your crawl into the bedroom. Once inside, Sevika followed, her boots clicking ominously against the wooden floor.

“On the bed,” she commanded, her tone brooking no argument.

You hesitated for only a second before climbing onto the bed, your movements slow and tentative. The air felt heavy with anticipation as you knelt on the mattress, waiting for her next move. Sevika approached, her towering form casting a shadow over you. She reached out, her calloused hand brushing over your cheek before tilting your chin up to meet her eyes. “That’s better,” she murmured, her voice softening slightly but still laced with authority. “Maybe you’re finally ready to start behaving.”

Her smirk returned as she leaned down, her lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was possessive and all-consuming. Her grip on your chin tightened as she pulled away, her dark eyes scanning your face with a mix of amusement and satisfaction. “You’re mine tonight,” she whispered, her tone promising that the night was far from over. “I’m going to break you and build you back up, over… and over…” she purred. Sevika stared at you silently for a moment before taking a step back.

“First rule, don't talk. I’ve had enough of your mouth this evening, if I hear even one word that I don’t ask for leave your pretty lips I will stuff them with your ripped dirty panties. Understood?” Sevika's words were such a deep contrast from the gentle hand that was now caressing your cheek.

You leaned into the touch, enjoying the gentleness amongst all of this very much-deserved roughness. However the touch didn’t last long, the older woman's touch was taken away as soon as you began to enjoy the feeling.

“Second rule, you’ve been so very greedy tonight sweetheart, so now you will take what I give you and only what I give you. No whining, no squirming, nothing.” The woman kicked off her boots, a condescending smile on her face the entire time. “Now, strip down to your underwear.”

The pair began to undress, you two kept eye contact the entire time the tension so thick it was suffocating. Sevika was stripped down completely and you remained in your cute set, matching as you always do, she looked over at you pleased with your instruction following.

Sevika’s gaze raked over you, dark and heavy, taking in every detail of your trembling form. The satisfied smirk on her face sent a fresh wave of heat through you, leaving you feeling both exposed and exhilarated. She stalked closer, her every step measured and deliberate, like a predator toying with its prey. “Good, good girl” she murmured, her voice rough with approval as her eyes lingered on your matching set. “At least you can follow some instructions.”

Her large hand reached out, tracing the curve of your waist with a touch that was both gentle and possessive. The contrast between her tenderness and the commanding tone of her words left you dizzy, caught in the intoxicating push and pull.

“But let’s see how well you can keep that obedience up,” she continued, her smirk widening as she hooked a finger under the strap of your bra, letting it snap against your skin. “Hands behind your back. Now.” Your body obeyed instinctively, your hands moving to clasp behind you, leaving yourself entirely at her mercy. Sevika’s smirk darkened as she stepped even closer, her chest brushing against yours, the heat of her body overwhelming.

“You’re so pretty like this,” she murmured, her tone dripping with condescension as she tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet her intense gaze. “Quiet. Submissive. Exactly how I like you.”

Her hand trailed down, brushing over your collarbone, then your chest, her fingers ghosting over the lace of your bra before stopping just short of touching you fully. Her other hand gripped your hip firmly, keeping you in place as her dark eyes bore into yours. “You want me to touch you, don’t you?” she asked, her voice a low, teasing purr.

You nodded quickly, your breath catching in your throat as her fingers teased the edge of your bra. A small whimper left your mouth, who could blame you? “What did I say about talking?” she growled, her grip on your hip tightening enough to make you gasp. “That includes stupid little noises, sweetheart.”

Your body stilled instantly, and her smirk returned, full of dark amusement. “That’s better,” she murmured, her fingers finally sliding under the lace, brushing against your skin in a way that made you shiver. “But remember the second rule,” she said, her tone suddenly cold and sharp. Her hand retreated just as quickly as it had come, leaving you desperate for more. “You’ll only get what I decide to give you. And right now?”

She leaned in, her lips brushing against your ear as her voice dropped to a whisper. “You don’t deserve it.”

Her words sent a jolt of frustration and need through you, but you held still, biting your lip to stop the whine that threatened to escape. Sevika chuckled darkly, clearly pleased by your restraint. “That’s my good girl,” she murmured, stepping back just enough to make you miss her warmth. “Now, on your knees.”

You hesitated for only a second before sinking to the floor, your eyes wide and locked on hers as you obeyed. Your arms still behind your back like she asked. Sevika towered over you, her presence overwhelming as she crossed her arms, looking down at you with a mix of satisfaction and expectation.

“Perfect,” she said, her voice dripping with approval. “Are you hungry, sweetheart? Because I think I have something for you to eat.”

The thought of what those words implied felt like some sort of god came down to grant you the world's greatest meal. You were ready, but you got a little ahead of yourself and moved your hands reaching out to hold onto the meat of her thighs. God how you loved them, how you could worship them.

Sevika growled, her gaze turning so cold it gave you chills and froze you in place. You were so distracted by your eagerness to eat her out that you forgot one simple instruction you were given. Her large hand shot out, grabbing both of your wrists and yanking them away from her thighs with a force that left you breathless.

“What did I just say about following instructions?” she hissed, her tone sharp and dripping with disappointment. Her grip on your wrists was firm, holding them in place as she loomed over you, her imposing figure making you feel small and utterly at her mercy.

“I-” you began to stammer, but Sevika’s glare silenced you immediately.

“Don’t,” she interrupted, her voice low and dangerous. “I told you, no talking. And now you can’t even keep your hands to yourself?” She released your wrists suddenly, and you let them fall back to your sides, trembling under her intense gaze. She stepped closer, her thighs brushing against your face in a way that made your mouth water, but you didn’t dare move again. “I was going to reward you,” she said, her tone cold as she looked down at you with a mix of annoyance and amusement. “But now you’ve gone and ruined it. You just can’t help yourself, can you, sweetheart?”

Her fingers tangled in your hair, tugging your head back to force you to look up at her. The smirk that spread across her lips was cruel and full of intent. “Fine. If you want it so bad, you’ll work for it. But don’t think for a second I’m going to make it easy for you.” She pushed you back slightly, just enough to create space before taking her place on the edge of the bed. Her legs spread, the sight alone making your knees weak. She leaned back slightly, her eyes locked on yours, daring you to disobey her again.

“Crawl,” she commanded, her voice firm.

Your body obeyed instantly, your movements slow and deliberate as you made your way toward her. The tension in the room was suffocating, every nerve in your body alight with anticipation and a desperate need to please her. When you reached her, you paused, waiting for her next instruction. Her fingers tightened in your hair, guiding your head to rest against her thigh. “Good,” she murmured, her tone softening just slightly as she looked down at you. “Now show me how much you’ve learned.”

Your breath hitched, and you leaned in, placing a soft, reverent kiss against her skin. Her smirk deepened, her fingers loosening their grip on your hair just enough to allow you to move freely. “That’s it,” she purred, her voice low and filled with approval. “Let’s see if you can earn back my favour.”

Your lips pressed against Sevika’s thigh, soft and deliberate, each kiss a silent plea for forgiveness. Her skin was warm beneath your touch, the tension in her muscles betraying just how tightly she was holding herself together. You worked your way higher, your kisses slow and reverent, taking your time to worship her, just as she deserved. Sevika’s fingers tangled in your hair again, her grip tightening as she guided your movements. “That’s better,” she murmured, her tone rich with approval. “Maybe you’re finally starting to understand your place.”

Her words sent a shiver through you, a mixture of arousal and submission flooding your senses. You kissed higher, your lips brushing over the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, and you could feel the subtle twitch of her muscles beneath you.

“Keep going,” she commanded, her voice a low growl. You didn’t hesitate, trailing kisses up her thigh, your hands now clasped tightly behind your back, just as she had instructed earlier. The air around you was thick with anticipation, the scent of her driving you wild as you got closer to where you so desperately wanted to be. When your lips finally reached the top of her thighs, you paused, looking up at her for permission. Sevika smirked down at you, her dark eyes filled with a dangerous mix of amusement and desire.

“Now you remember to ask?” she teased, her tone dripping with condescension. Her fingers tightened in your hair, tilting your head back slightly. “Go ahead, sweetheart. Show me you can behave.” The tension in your body snapped, and you leaned in, pressing your lips against her with a hunger you could no longer contain. Sevika let out a low, satisfied groan, her hand in your hair guiding you as you worked. “That’s it,” she murmured, her voice rough with pleasure. “Take your time. Make it good.”

You obeyed, your movements deliberate and precise, savouring every second as you focused on giving her exactly what she deserved. Her grip on your hair tightened with each sound of approval she made, her thighs twitching slightly around you as she began to lose herself in the pleasure. You swirled your tongue, motions starting to become instinctive rather than anything else. You need to prove yourself to Sevika, you want to make her feel so so good.

“Good girl,” she praised, her voice breathless and filled with satisfaction. “Maybe you’re not so hopeless after all.” Her words only spurred you on, your movements growing more fervent as you chased her approval. The heat of her body, the sound of her voice, the way her fingers gripped you like you were hers… it was all-consuming, and you couldn’t get enough.

“Don’t stop,” she commanded, her voice sharper now, her breathing uneven as she pushed you further. “I’m not done with you yet.” Sevika’s fingers tugged harder at your hair, her hips subtly rolling against your movements. Each pull sent a sharp sting through your scalp, grounding you further in your submission to her. You pressed in deeper, working with unrelenting dedication as her low, throaty groans echoed in the room. Your tongue worked at an unrelenting pace, not being able to use your hands was difficult but you were doing enough with your mouth.

“That’s it,” she growled, her voice rough with pleasure. “Just like that. Don’t you dare slow down.” Her thighs flexed around your face, caging you in as her control began to waver. You could feel the heat radiating off her body, her grip on your hair tightening almost painfully as her breathing grew ragged. She was close, and you could tell she was holding herself back, refusing to let go too quickly. “Greedy little thing,” she muttered through gritted teeth, her head falling back for a moment as she fought to maintain her dominance. “Look at you, so desperate to please me. So eager to be good for me.”

Her words sent a rush of heat through you, your own body responding to her praise and rough treatment with a neediness you couldn’t suppress. You moaned softly against her, the vibration drawing a sharp hiss from her lips.

“Did I say you could make noise?” she snapped, pulling your head back sharply and forcing you to look up at her. Her dark eyes bore into yours, her smirk returning as she took in your flushed, needy expression. “I think you need another reminder of who’s in charge here.”

Before you could process her words, Sevika yanked you up onto the bed, her strength overwhelming as she manhandled you effortlessly. She leaned in close, her breath hot against your ear as her hand wrapped around your throat, not enough to hurt but enough to assert her control.

“You’re mine,” she growled, her voice low and possessive. “And you’ll do exactly what I say, exactly how I say it. Do you understand?”

You nodded quickly, the pressure of her hand on your throat stealing your voice. Sevika’s smirk widened, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction at your compliance. “Good,” she purred, releasing your throat and shoving you back onto the bed. She climbed over you, her imposing frame pinning you down as her hands roamed your body, rough and claiming. “Now, let’s see if you can keep being a good little thing for me, or if I need to teach you another lesson.”

Her lips crashed against yours, fierce and demanding, as she claimed you completely, leaving no doubt in your mind about who was in control.”This time, sweetheart, I’m going to sit on your pretty face. I’m going to use that delicate tongue how I want, now lay back.”

Sevika’s words sent a jolt through your body, her commanding tone leaving no room for hesitation. Your heart pounded in your chest as you obeyed, leaning back against the bed, your breath catching at the sheer intensity of her gaze. She smirked at your compliance, her calloused hands running possessively down your body as she adjusted herself, her knees bracketing your head. The weight of her dominance was palpable, her presence overwhelming as she positioned herself above you.

“Look at you,” she purred, her voice a low, sultry growl. “So obedient now. Maybe you’re learning after all.” Her hand slid into your hair, gripping tightly to keep you in place as she lowered herself, her thighs brushing against your cheeks. “You better make this good, sweetheart,” she warned, her tone dripping with authority. “Or you’ll regret it.”

Her body pressed against your lips, her heat and scent intoxicating as she claimed your mouth for her pleasure. Your hands instinctively moved to her thighs, desperate to steady yourself, but her grip on your hair tightened, pulling your head back just slightly. “Ah, ah,” she chided, her smirk wicked. “Hands stay off unless I tell you otherwise.”

You quickly dropped your hands to your sides, letting out a muffled moan as you began to obey her unspoken command. Your tongue moved in perfect rhythm, tasting her, worshipping her, and drawing a low groan from her lips that sent shivers through your entire body. “Just like that,” Sevika growled, her hips rolling against you, using you exactly as she pleased. “That’s a good girl.”

Her thighs flexed around your head, holding you in place as she lost herself in the pleasure you were giving her. The roughness of her movements, the way she dominated you so completely, left you breathless and utterly at her mercy. The noises were wet and sloppy, the room was filled with the most pleasing sounds.

“Don’t you dare stop,” she hissed, her voice strained as her pace quickened. “You’ll keep going until I’m satisfied. Understood? I don’t care if you suffocate- Y-You keep fucking going-” You nodded as best as you could, your tongue working tirelessly to please her, every sound of approval from her lips driving you to give her more. Her moans grew louder, her grip on your hair almost painful as she rode the edge of release.

“Perfect,” she muttered through clenched teeth, her voice raw with pleasure. “You’re mine. All mine. Good fucking girl, there we go- t-there-” Her body tensed, her hips stilling as she finally let go, her cries filling the room as she found her release. She held you there, letting the waves of pleasure wash over her before finally releasing her grip on your hair and pulling back slightly. Sevika looked down at you, her chest heaving, a satisfied smirk spreading across her lips.

“Good girl,” she said softly, her tone full of approval. “Maybe I won’t need to punish you after all… but don’t think you’re off the hook just yet.”

[porcelian]

OFFERED TENDERNESS

Summary: In which you and Jason appreciate eachothers trust in different little ways.

Warnings: fluff, because of course its fluff, idiots in love, nothing worth mentioning as a real warning.

Notes: if you know where the songs are from i love you ^⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠^ i should watch bride and prejudice again lol. My favourite pride and prejudice movie (probably because i haven't watched the other ones yet.. :⁠,⁠-⁠))

Word count: 1k.

Masterlist. Navigation.

The soft rays of the sun felt light on his skin, waking Jason from his slumber. His eyes blearily opened and tried to adjust to the light streaming into the room from the parted curtains. He yawned before turning to your side of the bed.

You always took the side closer to the window, enjoying the view before drifting off to sleep. Jason, on the other hand, slept closer to the door. He insisted it was more practical in a dangerous situation. He also preferred fewer blankets, claiming it was easier to pull off of himself.

Jason expected this to be like any other lazy morning. He usually woke up earlier than you. He would turn to your side, wrap his arms around you, and pull you closer. You'd be cocooned in warm blankets, running hot.

Jason sought you out for warmth whenever he got cold. You’d open your arms, and both of you would curl up together. You’d spend a moment in each other’s embrace, talking, making lame jokes, and then start the day.

He thought this day would be the same, accustomed to the routine. So, when his arm reached over to your side and found it empty, he panicked. He shuffled out of bed, looking around the room. You weren’t in the bedroom. You weren’t in the bathroom, brushing your teeth (with kids’ toothpaste, as he noted you liked the watermelon-scented one).

It was when he entered the hallway outside of your shared bedroom that he heard you. It was like sweet music to his ears. You were singing along to some song (horribly, yes, but still).

He peeked his head in and saw you organizing groceries in the kitchen. Almost on instinct, he moved forward and wordlessly wrapped his arms around you.

“Where were you?” He tried to mask the concern lacing his words.

You didn’t lose a second before soothing him, “Oh, I’m so sorry, honeybee. We needed groceries, and I thought I would drop by the market quickly.”

“No, no. Don’t apologize. It’s okay.” He reassured you. You were alright, and that’s all that mattered to him.

“Ya’ know, I’m pretty tired today. Wanna get take-out?” You turned to face him, running your hands through his hair, slowly caressing and massaging.

He didn’t answer your question. Instead, he nuzzled into the crook of your neck and mumbled, “You smell really good, baby.”

You started to laugh because it tickled. Jason didn’t relent, almost as if he was burning the sight of you into his mind. The smile in your eyes, the sound of your laughter.

If he could capture the sound of your laughs, the look you get when you're relaxed and comfortable, and keep it in a bottle forever, he would.

Jason couldn’t exactly do that, so he made do with his many attempts to make you smile.

“Answer my question, sunshine.”

He couldn’t help but smile at your nicknames. Never did he ever think he’d be called something sweet by someone. In your eyes, he’s sweet like honey and warm like sunshine.

Jason had never said it, but your affections made him feel like a boy again. He didn’t need to say it. You knew it, though. You cherished every moment you saw his eyes light up just a little bit when you did so.

You thanked him every time in your mind for trusting you with this piece of him.

*****

It was your and Jason’s weekly movie night, one of the rare nights you had him to yourself. Of course, you put all of your effort into making the experience comfortable and enjoyable for Jason.

The smell and sound of popcorn and soda bottles opening filled the kitchen and the living room. Hearing the opening intro of the movie, you yelled out for Jason.

“Wait! Pause it!” You sped through the apartment, almost running into the couch on which Jason was currently curled up. “Don’t start without me.” You gave him a fake pout.

He dramatically rolled his eyes. “I would never, baby.” He placed his hand on his heart, offended you would even suggest he would do this.

“Okay, okay. Start it.” You smiled. “Do not skip the songs! ‘No Life Without Wife’ and ‘Take Me To Love’ are masterpieces we cannot skip.” You emphasized the last few words.

Your dedication to the night made Jason feel something warm inside his heart, spreading through his entire body. He stared at you, taking in every detail. Not like he hadn’t already, but at this point, it had become something he did without even noticing.

You did notice, though. You could feel his blue-green eyes on you. The feeling made you feel fuzzy all over. You turned and stared back at him, the movie all but forgotten at the moment.

“Take a picture, Jay. It will last longer.” He chuckled at the smug grin on your face, finally looking back at the movie.

“We better start watching it, or we’ll end up like last time.”

“Uh-huh, I’m not falling asleep again! Don’t know about you, mister.”

“If anyone’s going to fall asleep, it’s you.”

Both of you continued this little game for a few moments before you moved closer to him.

“Is this okay?” You asked.

“Yes, it’s okay. Thank you.” He muttered the last words quietly.

You cuddled closer to him, slowly grabbing one of his arms and intertwining your fingers. It was a habit of yours, he thought. You always did it without fail. Jason was thankful for it. He thought it grounded him. A warm, peaceful feeling spread through his body as your hand touched his.

He thanked you every time in his mind for trusting him with this piece of you.

(Unfortunately, neither of you finished the movie that day. Both of you had fallen asleep. But in your mind, that wasn’t a loss at all. You were together, and that’s all that mattered to you.)

© ROBINSFILM ﹕ I do not give consent for my writing to be posted or used on any other platforms without my permission and proper credit.

[courfee]

“Regulus would be proud of us,” James whispered quietly to no one in particular, still gripping onto the painting like a life raft. 

— Tender Curiosities, Baby!  @otrtbs

[lemonlimestar]

the witching hour by @mamawasatesttube propaganda 😤😤😤 i’m a few days late but it’s always halloween in my heart okay…

kinda based on this bit :)