#d/s dynamic fanfic

[yamysunmoon]

Princess's reward

Summary: You've been Jenna's lover for a few months now. You meet in hotel rooms whenever you can. Jenna is promoting her latest projects in Venice when you decide to pay her a visit.

Words count: 5-6k

Warnings: MDNI +18, d/s dynamic, sub! Jenna, stone top Y/N, choking, clothed sex, dirty talk, crying during sex (a little tear), praise kink, kinda bratty.

n/a: Verbal consent. First one shot in tumblr and english is not my first language :) hope you enjoy!

You were scrolling distractedly through social media when a notification popped on your screen. Jenna had posted photos.

More than Jenna herself, her team, you thought. Even so, you clicked immediately with a slight tension of anticipation growing in the lower part of your belly.

You watched each photograph closely. Jenna posing on that red carpet in that red dress. Her lips, also bright red, the wavy lines that traced her hair, her bangs forming a beautiful arc over her forehead. Her smooth and delicate skin, her mouth displaying that perfect and relaxed smile, those adorable dimples. You kept zooming in on each photograph when a new notification arrived. She had posted another update.

A smile was now forming on your lips. Jenna drinking coffee with those sunglasses and that t-shirt and that pose and those jeans. You remembered those photos perfectly. She had sent them to you the day before.

You sighed, looking out the airplane window. Glacing at your vintage silver wristwatch you noticed there were only 20 minutes left to reach Venice. Unable to resist the temptation, you opened your messaging app.

Hey my dear, barely 20 minutes to get to the airport.

Saw the instagram pictures btw. That dress suits you perfectly, you look beautiful.

She should still be at the interview she had told you about hours earlier, you guessed. She had sent you her full schedule as soon as she got to Venice, days ago. You loved it when she gave you all the information you needed to know where she was, and when, without even have to ask for it. Her complience made you go nuts sometimes.

You could imagine how tired she must already be, with it barely being 10 in the morning. She had been going back and forth for days promoting her new projects, attending interviews and public events of various kinds. You recalled in your mind her voice over the phone the night before, the way her raspy voice spoke to you, whispering how much she missed you and how little she could bear it. You had been waiting for this moment for weeks.

You were surprised when a vibration on your cell phone snapped you out of your thoughts.

Jenna: hey my love. Charlize will pick you up as we agreed. I think I'll be able to make it to the hotel on time. I can't wait to see you.

A sly smile graced your face. The first few times you two started texting, you were insecure about Jenna's style of writing. No emoticons, dry expressions and full stops. You soon learned a lot of things about her tho.

When she's at work and finds a few minutes to be able to text you -she makes that time to text you-, she doesn't even realize she sounds so "serious".

But then, when the nighttime comes and after taking a long bath, with her bathrobe still covering her body, she calls you, asks you animatedly how your day has been and reminds you how much she wants you, all doubts dissipate.

You decided not to reply to that message to heighten the anticipation. However, even though you were able to control yourself in action, your mind could not do the same and began to recall your previous encounters. The first time you met in that private area of one of the most exclusive clubs in L. A., when Charlize, her most trusted bodyguard, picked you up a few streets over and took you to her. How she waited for you with her legs crossed and those black stilettos, and one of her irresistible black suits.

Memories of that first night began to play out in your head without any censorship. Her sideways smiles as she teased you, the way her cheeks took on a light pale pink with the hints you murmured near her ear so she could hear you over the music. The way her nails grazed your arm for the first time, to, hours later, scratch you all over.

Her eyes, oh, her coffee brown eyes. Steaming, hot brown coffee. Chocolate eyes melting, dripping all over your body, ogling every nook and cranny and every detail they could absorb. She was looking at you in a way that you had never been looked at before.

"I'm starting to want you more than I can handle" she had whispered to you, after a couple of cocktails and too many leers. She had moved dangerously close to your ear to utter those words, then pulled away just enough to look deep into your eyes, raising her eyebrows slightly, looking down at you. A gaze that suggested some desperation and a lot of willingness to be blown away.

You then realized she was handing the power over to you. She was letting you decide if you were ready to commit to this madness with her. Things had changed since that night, but back then she was proposing that night. That's all you had: one night.

You plopped down on the headrest of your comfortable seat in the VIP area of the plane in the same way you had settled that night, months ago, on the pillows of her bed. The sensation of her warm body on yours invaded all your senses. Her legs around your torso, her hands on the back of your neck. Your hands caressing her tummy, then going from her upper back to her shoulder blades. One hand going up to her nape, pushing her to your lips. The other groping the elastic of her suit pants, asking for permission. You remembered perfectly her whisper, barely a strand of voice leaving her red, maroon lips.

"You can do whatever you want to me".

You smiled mischievously and opened your eyes, shaking your head. It wasn't really "whatever you wanted," but rather what the two of you had agreed upon in endless conversations before you started seeing eachother.

Meeting people backstage in the celebrity world had never suited you as well as when you got to meet her. A few minutes backstage at a random event, which led to following each other on Instagram, which led to getting her number, which led to intimate messages late at night.

Conversations about power, control, and seduction. You told her about submission. She started by joking about it, saying that she could never let anyone have that kind of dominance over her. She went on to say that maybe you could. She ended by asking you to accept hers.

You continued to learn about the d/s dynamic together, and agreed on initial boundaries and desires. Promises of what you could do to her, and be for her. Of the way you could put her mind and body at ease. Of the way you could set her free. And that night, in that LA hotel, you put them into practice. And boy, did you both like it.

Now you looked out the window and noticed that the hard concrete of the landing zone was getting closer and closer. You couldn't suppress a shiver that ran through your whole body, you didn't know if it was caused by the imminent landing or the imminent encounter with your precious submissive. Deep down you knew.

You walked through the front door of the hotel without any problem. The few people who should know you could pass knew that. Everything was handled as subtly as possible, protecting the privacy of the person they worked for, following her orders.

You were presented with stairs covered with a beautifully red carpeted floor. You climbed them on your way to the elevators that could be seen at the back of the entrance. One of them opened and Winona Ryder stepped out. You crossed paths but only dared to give her a brief smile, without looking directly at her. Had Jenna told her about you? You weren't used to running into celebrities from time to time. Charlize stood next to you.

“Surprised, huh?”

“She's a legend,” you said in a whisper of restrained excitement. She chuckled under her breath. She walked you to the open elevator and pressed buttons 4 and 5.

“You get off at 5. Room 513. She arrived about 15 minutes ago” she reported looking at her wristwatch. You nodded. There wasn't much more to say.

You could have engaged her in friendly conversation, but you could only watch the elevator screen indicating how you were getting on. Silently. This always happened to you; you were in that moment before you saw her in which your thoughts, actions and behavior were all directed towards her.

The doors opened on the fourth floor and Charlize said goodbye to you with a brief bow, you nodded in farewell. The doors closed and you felt yourself ascending a few more feet. Ascending towards your personal Heaven.

You stepped out of the elevator at a steady pace. You felt the weight of your whole body on your black military boots, you felt the skin rubbing against each garment you were wearing. You readjusted your watch, the one she had given you, and repositioned the necklace you were wearing, also a gift from her. Maybe she was your submissive, but you were her property.

“513” the plaque read. You gulped and touched up your hair, which you wore loose. One more shaky breath before you knocked softly on the door. Two sure knocks, as always.

“Come in” you heard from inside. Oh, that voice. You turned the doorknob without any hesitation.

You found yourself in a spacious room. The floor was covered with the same red carpet that protected the entire floor of the hotel. To your right, large windows lit up the room, but someone had already covered them with thick, translucent white curtains. In front was the king sized bed with an ornate wooden headboard. The room was chaste and classically decorated, in the most typical Viennese style.

It didn't take you long to notice that just before the bed someone had placed a low table that probably wasn't meant to be there. On it various plates with fresh fruit, freshly baked croissants and macarons in various pastel shades.

From your left you heard the sound of water running. You approached. To the right was a dressing room, and to the left was the door leading to the bathroom. A half-open door separated you from your girl.

“Babe, can i come in?”

“No!” she reacted instantly. “Give me a few minutes” the sound water running ceased. ”Go eat something, I got it for you.”

“Okay milady” you replied teasingly, earning a short sardonic laugh from her. She would always need to be fully prepared before seeing you, everytime to met. You found it really cute, yet kinda incomprehensible.

You would remind her that you had already seen her without all of that, without being THE Jenna Ortega, but simply Jenna, she would just smile shyly and confess that she wanted to be perfect for you. “At least before you ruin me completely” she used to add.

You went back to the master bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed. You smiled as you realized that Jenna had wanted to place the table as close to the bed as possible. You both knew brunch wouldn't last long.

You had caught quite a few planes for her lately, and she always greeted you with a big feast of her own preparation. You decided to grab a fresh strawberry from the fruit platter, feeling its juices expand in your mouth. You wanted to have the perfect taste when Jenna came out of that bathroom.

Strolling your gaze around the suite, you noticed a scarlet red suit folded on a chair, along with underwear and black platform heels resting next to it. You didn't have time to discover much more before you heard the door open. A broad smile appeared on your lips as soon as you saw her.

She was wearing a black and red plaid corset and matching skirt. Her hair fell straight and shiny over her shoulders, and a deep red lipstick highlighted her lips. She looked at you with those dark eyes, adorned with a subtle touch of eyeliner and mascara.

“Sorry babe, you know i don't usually keep you waiting”. Finally, her voice came directly to your ears, without having to go miles from cell phone to cell phone.

Your eyes sparkled. "This time I'll give it to you," you conceded, assuming that slightly permissive role she liked so much on occasions like that. Your rules were strict but you both got a kick out of cheating from time to time.

You remained motionless as he approached you. Only a small twinkle in her eyes gave her away. She came closer until she was standing in front of you and your hands were resting on the bed. You looked down at her. She looked back at you and smiled showing those beautiful teeth.

An almost imperceptible nod from her gave you permission to wrap your arms around her waist in a needy embrace. You rested your head on her abdomen and it wasn't long before you noticed her hands stroking your silky hair.

“Ugh... how I've missed you” you confessed against the fabric. Your choked voice rumbling against her gut. She breathed in deeply in a way you interpreted as relief. You heard the air rush into her body.

“You're finally here” she sounded calm, peaceful. At ease.

You lifted your head and rested your chin on her belly. With your hands you caressed her lower back. She looked down at you from above and smiled. “You look incredible” you spoke softly, as if you wanted to prevent anyone from overhearing you.

Everyone, literally the whole universe knows that Jenna Ortega is gorgeous and looks amazing, but no one was lucky enough to contemplate her as you were at that moment.

“That's why I like to get ready before seeing you,” she said insightfully. You smiled slightly and your hands descended to her ass, which you squeezed gently. She gasped and closed her eyes. Involuntarily she moved her hips towards you. You rested your forehead on her skirt and breathed in her scent. That expensive and elegant perfume mixed with her own scent emanating from her skin....

“Let's eat something” she proposed pulling away from you abruptly and sitting down next to you. You blinked several times and looked at her. She was smiling flirtatiously. She loved to keep you waiting.

She decided on one of the freshly made croissants and that's when she saw the bitten strawberry on the table. She rose her gaze back at you. “Are they yummy?” she then noticed your lips, reddened by the juice of the fruit.

“Try it yourself” you challenged her. She raised her eyebrows. She seemed to hesitate for a few seconds during which she alternated looking into your eyes and at your lips. She half-opened her own, surely imagining your taste in those moments. Finally, she took a bite of her croissant and chewed slowly. Then she offered you a piece. “Try this and I'll try the strawberries” she resolved. Captivated by her charm, you laughed at her joke and agreed.

You switched the sour taste of the red fruit and the enveloping sweetness of the croissants with a relaxed conversation. She asked how your flight went and wanted to know more about everything that had happened to you in the previous days. Every evening you talked on the phone but she was usually too tired to pick up specifics. Then you asked her about the interview, which had been with Winona and you also talked a bit about her.

You loved the way her eyes sparkled in admiration of her partner. She kept yapping about her co-workers and the movies they both liked, smiling sideways when she remembered funny anecdotes on set, frowned adorably when reminiscing about confusing and amusing moments and she giggled softly when you blurted out wry and witty remarks.

You were drawn towards her. Everything she did seemed appealing to you. Every move, every gaze, every smile. The way she gestured with her hands, how she crossed and uncrossed her legs, how she tilted her head, and how she scrunched her nose. The freckles that dotted her cheekbones and the bridge of her nose called to you, it was urgent to kiss them. She kept talking but your attention had reached its limit.

Suddenly she stopped and looked at you. A teasing smile decorated her appetizing lips. “What are you doing so close?” she inquired curiously, looking you up and down. You then realized how close you have got without even thinking it through. It was quite literally that you were drawn towards her. Like the Earth is drawn towards the Sun.

You let out an airy laugh. “I didn't even realized” you confessed amused, running your gaze over her torso. That damn corset was distracting you. She smiled sideways, revealing a lovely dimple. God, Jenna and her dimples.

You watched every detail of her face closely before finally looking into her eyes. You were getting closer and closer. Yet she wasn't moving an inch. There was nothing she liked more than to tease you until you took the initiative. There was nothing she liked more than to show herself completely ready for you. Waiting for you.

After a few torturous seconds that felt like forever, Jenna looked at your lips. She licked her lower lip lightly, and the warm pink of her tongue contrasted with the maroon of her lips. Her gaze returned to yours, locked together.

And finally, a slight, very slight nod subtly ruffled the strands of her bangs. You gasped. You had permission. You couldn't wait any longer.

You ended the distance between the both of you and drew her closer by resting your hand on the back of her neck and pulling her in a demanding gesture until your lips met at last. You made a superhuman effort to stifle a moan of satisfaction. She, however, did not hold back and let it out, free, from between her teeth, as her lips parted allowing your tongue to conquer her mouth.

You engaged in a wet, perfectly pulsating kiss. Your kiss swayed between a sweet, rhythmic softness and an anxious, slightly desperate depth. Jenna pulled her body closer to yours and placed her hands on your abdomen, pulling your shirt towards her. She needed you, she needed you badly, but you wouldn't touch her until she begged.

You kept kissing her, wanting to express the latter with your lips, and she was quick to get the message. You could feel the trembling in her hands gripping your shirt, and your bodies were so close that you could feel her thighs coming together and parting just enough, in an urgent gesture.

Your breaths were quickening, so you slowed down the kiss. Your tongues caressed each other and she relaxed her whole body, welcoming you into her mouth, letting you take control. Your hand was still on the back of her neck, guiding her and turning her head slightly at your whim. She kept tugging at your shirt, tugging at you. She wanted you all over her.

Her breathing kept quickening even though your gestures were slow. You kept each other at bay. She would decide the starting gun, but nothing else would happen unless you dictated it. You were kissing her lips carefully when she parted only a few millimeters.

The look she gave you seemed even sad. “Y/N. Please. I beg of you. I want you so much i'm about to cry.”

Her eyebrows rose through the thickest area in an almost pathetic gesture of desperation. Her eyes were watery, dulling her already smoldering brown gaze. The brown of her iris was actually darker at that moment, like a beautiful pyrope stone.

You were lost in her gaze as she alternated looking at you in one eye and the other, in silent questioning. Her lower lip trembled with frustration. You almost felt sorry for her, how much she wanted you.

“Can I take you, then?” you asked at last, controlling the tremor in your voice admirably. You were dying for her too, but you had to show temperance for both your sakes. You were the one who held you both as you fell into the void. You had to be. She had to be able to fall into you. And there was nothing you longed for more.

She nodded fervently. You raised an eyebrow and lowered your head slightly in a serious gesture. “Are you capable of handling me?” you inquired insistently. Her hands, which had remained loyally attached to your shirt, ascended to your shoulders. You glanced sideways at them before looking at her again.

“I am ready to have you” she assured in a sentencing tone.

You looked into each other's eyes and found it. That look in her iris. That way in which, paradoxical as it seemed, she was able to demand that you possess her. Her way of offering you her submission, in the most dominant way.

It was as if time stopped for a few seconds before you pounced on her like a predator on its prey. Your hands traveled to her waist lifting her up and carrying her to the bed as your tongues met again.

You held her firmly and carefully, but dropped her onto the mattress allowing her body to crash against it. Her eyes widened in a gesture somewhere between surprise and excitement. In the process of the fall she was forced to release her grip on your shoulders, and now her hands held her on her palms. You watched her as you kneeled on the bed. She placed her legs on the sides of your body, tilted her head and raised an eyebrow delightfully. She smiled showing her teeth a little.

There was something so romantic about her submission to you. The way she surrendered not just her body but her whole being to you. The way her eyes looked at you, through you, not just with lust but with complete trust.

You would do anything for her.

You crawled up to her and kissed her again, slowly. She lifted her hips toward your body. You put a hand on her waist and pushed her back on the mattress, firmly. She stifled a moan into your mouth. She finally agreed to lie down and you directed both hands to the belt of her skirt. She put a hand on your chest, you stopped instantly in anticipation of some boundary. Instead, she parted just enough to look at you. “Maybe that's not necessary” she suggested in a seductive smile.

You scrutinized explanation in her gaze with a frown, confused. She lowered her gaze to her skirt in response. Could it be...?

With your hands you descended to her thighs, which you squeezed, and went upwards. She raised her knees, bent her legs, and spread them. You looked at her as your hands slipped under her skirt. You stifled a deep sigh as you found her luscious wetness already bathing her labia majora and even a bit of her groin. No panties. You pulled one hand out to grab her neck in a passionate kiss, while the other yielded to her charms and began to give her exactly what she needed.

“Baby, how wet you are...” you praised between kisses. You kept holding her neck in a solid gesture and she placed her hand over yours. You squeezed lightly, fulfilling her silent wish. The cold metal of your watch contrasted with her warm skin.

“All because of you. Its-for y-you. My beloved” she admitted worshipping you with that hard, wet look. Your massage on her cunt deepened.

“Do you respect me so much? Are you so obedient?"

She nodded and pressed your hand. You squeezed a little tighter, testing her limits. You weren't kissing her now, she needed to breathe. You both knew that if you kissed her the air could barely cross her throat, and yet she raised her head, longing for your lips on her.

You kept looking at her, waiting for something more. Your hand was still working under her skirt and her hips followed your rhythm with gusto. Was there anything she wouldn't do for you?

“I want...” you began, and your thumb ran along her cheekbone, her smooth skin. She watched your lips listening to every word you uttered. “I want you to touch yourself. I want to see how much you want me in you. You have to earn it.”

Her lips opened slightly, letting in air. She was breathing through her mouth, and as you loosened your grip thinking maybe it was too much, her hand squeezed yours again.

“I can do it” she assured referring to both your command and your grip. She then released your hand and began to roam her own body with it, descending to under her skirt. Her gaze descended with it and you could appreciate the length of her thick eyelashes. She began to stroke her clit while you focused on massaging her entrance in circles. “I can do this and much more, as long as I have you...” she breathed ‘in me" she looked up into your eyes.

You finally broke the distance that separated the both of you so you could kiss her face. She closed her eyes tightly trying to manage your caresses, your kisses and your strong grip on her neck. She closed them so tightly that a furtive tear escaped from her tear duct. You kissed her, her salty desire made liquid reaching your lips.

“Precious princess...” you whispered, and kissed her chin. She lifted it a little so you could continue touching it with your lips, and in those she slightly moved her whole body as well. She unintentionally brushed a knee against your crotch. You jumped with a start and opened your eyes instantly.

“S-sorry, didn't mean to-”

“It's okay. You may touch me” your voice was hoarse and your eyes had probably darkened, the way she was looking at you. Her free hand ascended to the nape of your neck and caressed under your jaw. You nodded to underline your conviction, so she moved her leg again without taking her eyes off you. You adjusted yourself against her knee until the friction was perfect. You raised your eyebrows in surprise.

Jenna knew she couldn't stimulate your cunt directly. You had always been very clear about this, and she had always respected it. On occasions like that, however, even a girl like you would welcome a touch like that, over your clothes.

You needed no more to feel yourself melting over her. You released your hand from her neck, much to her disgrace, and kissed her deeply. You lowered your kisses to her neck and noticed that there was a shallow reddish imprint of your fingers. You stopped your kisses. “It can be hidden with makeup, Y/N” she resolved, reading your thoughts. “Please don't stop” she whispered. You smiled and drew a line of saliva down her neck, the muscles of which ticked as she lifted her head to receive you.

Underneath her skirt, your fingers were still massaging her without entering her yet.

She was rubbing urgently. “Slow down” you commanded. “You are not coming till I say so” you reminded her.

She gave you an annoyed, almost hateful look, drawing a sly laugh from you. “Damn you...” she muttered coming closer to your mouth. You pulled away a little preventing her from kissing you.

“Uh?” you stopped your touch on her cunt and with your fingertips you traced her labia minora at a torturous slowness. “What did you say?” you lifted your hips pulling your own crotch away from her knee.

You could see how much of an effort she had to make in order to stay still . She gulped, alarmed.

“I apologize,” she said instantly. “Damn me. Ruin me, Y/N.”

“Are you going to behave?” you asked somewhat angrily. A mixture of indignation and disapproval permeated your words.

“Yes” she granted instantly. “I can prove it to you” she added, willingly. She was trying to convince you. "Please, forgive me".

You moved closer to her and she looked at your lips. You rested your crotch on her knee again and she let out a sigh of relief over you.

“I know you can do it. But are you going to?” you inquired feigning skepticism. Now that you were close, you noticed she had stopped masturbating. You knew then that she wouldn't continue until you told her to.

“Yes, my beloved. I am going to do whatever it takes to fulfill your desires” she pledged complacently.

You granted her a laddish smile at last and resumed your massage on her body. “That's how I like it, my princess... You look so gorgeous when you are this obedient” you reaffirmed satisfied, indeed.

You continued your touch whispering praises, massaging her tits with your free hand, over the corset. She removed her hand from your neck and grabbed the fabric of her corset. She looked up at you, “Pull it a little down for me” you whispered. She managed to pull it back just enough for her dark areolas and erect nipples to show themselves to you.

You contemplated her for a few seconds, she moved her fingers over her chest in a distracted gesture. She adored being admired by you.

“Beautiful creature... Show yourself to me” you demanded in a hoot. She lifted her head almost instinctively, as if it were possible to expose herself further.

You attacked her skin with restrained excitement, it was hard to hold back when she got like this. Her collarbone ready to be bitten by you, her breasts exposed and her clothes still covering her body, but with nothing to hide. You ran all over her chest drawing incomprehensible strokes with your lips to anyone but the two of you. You whispered praises incessantly, and she answered with moans of pleasure and choked moans.

“Don't hold it back. Don't hold yourself back, princess. Give it all to me” you encouraged her. “Gorgeous girl...” you continued, and this was the only time she allowed herself to interrupt you.

“Your gorgeous girl” she shamelesly corrected you in a desperate whine. “Your gorgeous girl. As you are my beloved, i'm yours. Im enterely yours.”

She dared to look at you shyly suddenly, for she knew she was bordering on the limits of your agreement. “My beloved lover” she said anyway. She was submitting to you in the most vulnerable way. And oh, she was getting rewarded.

You smiled softly and entered her in response. She closed her eyes and threw her head back moaning your name. She kept whispering that she was yours as you kissed her and she rode you, wiggling her hips deliciously against your fingers.

As she wiggled she massaged your cunt with her knee. You also moved against her, slowly feeling the consciousness leave your body. You attacked her tits, her chest and her neck in equal parts. You caressed her whole body and the cold metal of your watch caressed her curves. Your silver pendant brushed against her skin. She trembled beneath you, closer and closer to the precipice.

Your hand ascended to her collarbone and she caressed your palm, closing her eyes and sighing completely transfixed.

She opened her eyes slightly and looked at you. She was watching you in a way that only she could see you.

“Time stops when we are together” she confided to you in a tone of secrecy. At that moment she was caressing your watch. “I bought you this watch so you could count minutes while we are appart. But it all dissapear when we meet”.

Your fingers were deep in her, you moved in and out slowly and carefully, just as her words were coming out of her mouth. She let out a moan from the effort, she was having a hard time holding on, she wouldn't last much longer.

She looked at you again and it was all it took for her to take the watch from you in a single gesture. In a mocking fit, she held it between her teeth smiling at you. She raised an eyebrow. Irresistible.

“My gorgeous girl. Mine” you dared to say. She half opened her mouth in wonder, and the watch fell to her neck. You brushed your nose against hers in a barely perceptible caress. A delicate display of affection as, under her skirt, your fingers moved in and out of her inner lips at their whim, at just the right speed and pressure. You swayed against her knee and her hand rubbed her clitoris eagerly.

“Am i touching myself how you want me to?” she asked as she realized you noticed her speed.

You nodded and penetrated her as deep as you could. “Yes, princess. You're behaving so well for me. You're making me feel so good... Are you gonna cum?"

“I'm so close” she assured closing her eyes. You took her chin and she opened her eyes. “I'm gonna stop if you quit looking at me. Don't stop looking at me.” She bit her lower lip, looked at your lips and stifled a moan of frustration.

“I don't want to lose detail of your expression when you cum” you admitted in a whisper. She agreed with a look.

“Please, please Y/N... Kiss me afterwards” was all she asked.

“Of course, my dear” you granted instantly. She was your spoiled princess.

Her body trembled barely a minute later and she let herself be carried away by you as she drenched your fingers in a glorious orgasm. You rubbed against her until you released yourself, and continued to wiggle against her as you kissed her, as she requested. You slowly pulled out of her and interrupted your kiss to take your fingers into your mouth. You sucked them down their full length under her watchful and satisfied gaze.

“Hm... So Delicious” you praised, once again.

She gave you one of her irrisistible smiles.

"Just for you".

[starry-eyes-love]

Let's Make a Memory

Main Masterlist

Pairing | Joel Miller x F!Reader, AU, One Shot

Summary | Joel takes you out to dinner for the first time and you wind up having sex in their bathroom.

18+, Minors DNI

Warnings: smut, vibrator use, sex in a public bathroom, unprotected sex (wrap it up folks), language, cute and fluffy moments, a touch of d/s lifestyle.

Word Count: 1.7K

A/N:  I don't know where the heck this one came from, but I’m back out of my fanfic writing funk of no inspiration. Sorry guys, I got so burnt out with writing that I needed to take a huge break and was doing some other things for a while. This story is a little different from my other stories that I’ve written, but let’s just say I (being the writer/artist) had a muse that inspired me so we ran with it. I will slowly release other fanfic writings over time. I have no timetable for when fanfic stuff will be out.  I just want to enjoy writing again and not feel pressured. As always…enjoy :)

His hand immediately went around her neck as he pulled her back into him. His other hand went under her dress and touched her where she needed him the most. He growled in her ear, "You're mine; now come for me." She exploded for him when he said those words, which she always craved to hear.

Joel sat and ate slowly at dinner, laughing and discussing life with the beautiful woman before him. She was divine, a gorgeous woman, not just on the outside but what was found on the inside.  In the middle of all their laughter, she felt the buzz and the vibration's hum deep inside her. He never once flinched or gave anything away. He controlled the remote, the ability to start it and stop it, her pleasure he owned.

"You were saying?" He said, looking at her straight in her eyes. The challenge for her was to keep talking like nothing was happening. A test of strength, at the ability to follow the command he gave her. "Control your mind, and you'll receive my pleasure."

So she calmed her mind as she squeezed her thighs together, fighting the orgasm that she knew was coming. And as she fought it back, she burned with a fire deeper than anything, trying to remain composed through it all. She wanted him to stop this torture and to give her what she wanted: him.

For 45 minutes, this continued, and she didn't remember anything he had said. "Please," she whispered, almost begging him. To continue, to stop, to let her come, to fuck her hard. She wanted all of it and none of it at the same time. The sweet torture of the tease and the hold off of the release. A game she came to love and hate all together with him.

"Please, what?" He whispered, turning up the intensity again, knowing she was seconds away from release.

"Please, I, I—" she begged, and the vibration stopped before she tipped over.

"Shit," she growled, low and only for her ears. But he heard, and now the wolf was smiling, knowing he would soon devour his prey.

"What was that?" He asked, "Do you have something you wish to say? Something you wish to ask me?" It was a reminder of who played the game better.

"No, Sir. I- may I please excuse myself to the bathroom for a moment? I have to pee."

As he sat back in his chair, he looked at her intently. He knew it was a lie; he knew she was wet for him and wanted him.

Finally, after a moment, he motioned to the bathrooms, saying low, "You may, but don't you dare touch."

A silent nod she gave and whispered "thank you" as she stood.

She was almost to the bathroom door when she felt the vibration rise. She quickly gripped the door, opened the bathroom, walked in, and put her hands on the side of the counter. She was breathing hard and fighting the orgasm that was coming. She completely forgot to lock the door in her fight for composure; she didn't hear Joel Miller, the man who was giving her this sweet torture, enter.

His hand immediately went around her neck as he pulled her back into him. His other hand went under her dress and touched her where she needed him the most. He growled in her ear, "You're mine; now come for me." She exploded for him when he said those words, which she always craved to hear. 

He quickly turned her around and slammed his lips onto her mouth, drinking up all her cries of pleasure as he lifted her on the counter and shoved himself in.

"Fuck me," she moaned, trying to grind up against him, seeking the friction that she desperately needed.

"Patience, my love," he said, voice low and with his own primal need.

He was struggling to keep his head about him, not wanting to give over to the pleasure he was feeling. After all, he was still a man, and the harder she clenched down around his cock, the harder it was not to give in to his sexual urges and empty himself into her right then and there.  But Joel prided himself of being a man that never lost his control. 

“Fuck me,” he commanded, urging her forward with his words.  When she didn’t respond, he got right in her face and whispered in a commanding voice, “I said, fuck me.”

And she did; she found herself giving herself over to him completely.  Meeting him thrust for thrust while sitting on the bathroom countertop, one leg pinned up and away from her body by him and the other around his waist.  They were like two dogs in heat, rutting hard into each other and trying to sate the urge of being separated for as long as they have been: a lifetime, her lifetime.

“Baby, harder, please,” she begged. Those statements were like the liquid gasoline to their already raging inferno.  Every moment from the time she first talked with him, she had envisioned their first moment together.  She never imagined it to be here, in a restaurant full of people, but she didn’t care.  She was finally answering the hunger deep inside her, which had driven her mad for a long time, and he knew it.  That was the problem in their relationship; he knew every hidden desire she had without her ever opening her mouth.  Some say it is pure luck; others find it a curse.  But to her, it was like the most beautiful symphony ever played; he was her muse for once.  

In the creative artist’s world, a muse is a source that inspires an artist.  Though he never showed it, except for glimpses of it occasionally.  She thought he stopped seeing and loving her at one point, but that was just the mask.  The mask so she couldn’t see what she was doing to him inside, how much she was changing his soul as he changed her for the better.  Artist and muse.  It happens only once in a blue moon, something as fierce as this. For an older man named Joel Miller, this was the perfect recipe he needed—someone younger than him yet could still breathe life back into his soul.

A long time ago, Joel thought the world had turned its back on him.  Tommy had found happiness, his brother, after Joel had lost his child and wife, two people he had forever cherished.  Sarah, his daughter, died far too soon in life, and his wife left him because of many reasons.  She never said, but he knew.  Joel’s most significant problem in life was communication sometimes. He struggled to tell the person he was with how much he appreciated them and how much they mattered.  He said it through other means, telling them to drive safely, eat, and be careful.  Those phrases mean nothing to most people, but to Joel, they meant “I love you.”  You see, sometimes Life happens, and people struggle to express how much they care about someone.  How deeply they do.  And that was Joel’s problem before he met her.  Even now, as he takes what is his, what she has given up to him, he still struggles to communicate how much he cares and wants her forever in his life. But she knows.

You see, this woman he has pinned to the countertop and is thrusting hard inside of sees his soul for what it is.  Someone who felt like most of his life he didn’t deserve love, so she decided to give him the one thing that she knew he’d never ask for: love.  Yes, they sometimes disagree and have had moments where she hurt him with words.  But he meant more to her than what she’d ever say.  So maybe they both had a problem communicating that to the other. Or maybe right here in this moment of Joel pining her up against the counter, she could show him, just like she did every second of every day, with comments of “Hello cutie” and “You know you’re cute, just a little bit.” Her favorite was asking him how his day was. All those sayings said the same thing: she cared about him and his happiness.  All she ever wanted was for him to find peace and joy in life, no matter what.  That’s why this was different; they both felt that way but never said it out loud. 

“Joel, shit, I’m gonna-”

“Come for me, baby, show me.”

As she finally tipped over the edge for the first time with him like this, she felt the Earth shift on its axis, and her soul left her body and attached itself to another human in outer space. Joel soon followed behind her. When it was all over, and they were both spent, panting into each other’s ears as he held her, she understood that Joel knew what he was doing. He knew exactly what she would experience.  He made her wait to ensure she was ready for this experience.  The orgasm comes from the soul, not the body, and that’s what he wanted her to feel, their souls merging as one. 

Joel didn’t want meaningless sex; he’d had a lifetime of that when he was married.  He wanted a genuine connection, one out of this world, one where two people felt it together. There was no going back from this moment, and Joel knew it.  So, with a slight smile, he cleaned her up and helped her down.  Standing up on wobbly legs, she said in a sassy tone, “Wipe that smirk off your face, old man; my legs are wobbly because I was sitting on the counter, not because of what you did.”

With a deep laugh, Joel shook his head and said, “Okay, whatever ya gotta tell yourself, sweetheart.”  But he knew, just like she did too.  

With a tender kiss to her lips, she smiled and said as she opened the door, “I’m still ordering dessert with a ton of sprinkles on it.”  Joel gave a huge belly laugh as he exited the bathroom with her and took her hand into his.  

Sprinkles—the sweet treat on top of the best dessert—was a private joke they had together. Sex was the sprinkles on top of the dessert, the dessert being Life's journey together. You still had to create the dessert together, which he has always focused on—making the best foundation to enjoy those sprinkles. 

As they sat back down and ordered dessert, both had something with sprinkles on it.  As they ate, they silently chuckled and smiled at each other, at the memory they just created together.  Getting to this moment felt like a lifetime, but it was the best wait possible, and they both wouldn’t have had it any other way. 

[georgiapeach30513]

With Your Touch, Part 8

Summary: There's some things that need to be discussed

Pairings: Lloyd Hansen x Reader

Rating: explicit

Warnings:  explicit language, explicit sexual content, D/s dynamics, teasing, fingering, degradation, praise kink, humiliation kink, toy play, slight voyeurism, unprotected sex, creampie, mentions of cum play, bit of breeding kink, mentions of spanking, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 6.1K

Previous

Series Masterlist

Lloyd leans into Lyla’s bedroom, smiling at you unable to leave her. You don’t say anything, or even move, you just stare at the precious Lyla Bee. A soft smile turns your mouth up. So often you show your love for her. It isn’t something you have to do, it’s something you choose to do daily. It’s the sexiest thing you can do. You love an extension to him.

He’d have to make it official. Eventually give Lyla a sibling. He’s enjoying playing with your body, but he seriously can’t wait to see you swollen with him. To see you around your father and he understands the love that the two of you have. And he knows what a good girl that you are.

Lloyd fully intends on exploring your sweet obedient ways. He wants to push you to your limits, with your complete consent as well. “She’s so beautiful,” you coo down at your daughter. You don’t want anything in this world to ever harm her. If you could keep her this little you would. Freeze time so everything stays this sweet always.

It’s an odd thing to accept that she wants you to be her mom, but also Lloyd. There’s no way that you could love her any more than you do, even if you birthed her. You could spend hours just looking at her. Watching how her lips pucker up, and she even makes smacking noises with her mouth when she’s extra tired. She learns something new everyday, and you don’t want to miss a second of her life.

Lloyd walks up behind you, wrapping both arms around your front. He settles his chin on your shoulder to stare at this beautiful angel with you. “She really is. She’s spectacular.”

“I don’t think her wants her daddy to go back to work,” Lloyd knows exactly what you’re trying to pull. You’ve been laying it on thick all week about his returning to work.

“I think her mama is trying to guilt trip her daddy into not leaving.”

“But it’ll be lonely out here,” he doesn’t have to look at you to know that you're pouting. He doesn’t want to ignore your fears, but also doesn’t want to let you know that this is fully working on him. He’d almost choose to never go back. But you need boundaries. And he has no problem giving them to you, and also enforcing them.

He inhales swiftly, turning his head to kiss on your neck, “I’m going to make it a point to come home every night. Sometimes maybe every other night,” you groan, pushing your ass into his back, and your eyes go wide. His soft kiss turns to a nibble on your neck as he walks you out of her bedroom.

“Why are you hard?”

Groaning, he cups your covered mound, and you whimper. His hands are so large. You’ve had them in you. You still haven’t gotten used to that. Lloyd Hansen has been inside of you. Swimming inside of you. “Lloyd?” You whimper, and he drops his arms from around you, sitting on the couch with a plop, and you see his tightened jeans. “Lloyd!”

“Oh, shut up,” it’s playful, he grins at you. He rubs his hand over his bulge, smiling, “You know, when she goes to sleep, it’s time for mama and daddy to have fun,” the sinful bastard, “But first, we need to establish some boundaries.”

Your brow raises, while you look at him inquisitively, “Dolly, it’s just to make sure that I never take advantage of your trust. You have no idea the ways I want to play and use your body, but you have to give me permission.”

“You have it,” you earnestly answer. Your feet swish back and forth, eyes going glassy as you stare at him. Naturally going into a submissive state, Lloyd has a deep urge to destroy you like this. Just so he can lift you back up. He can’t take advantage of something your body naturally craves.

“You truly don’t understand. Sit,” listening immediately, Lloyd grins, “Good girl. You listen well,” you preen, leaning towards him. “You do well with praise. Noted,” he hums, staring over your body a moment. You’re so reactive to him. Sitting up straighter, and shoulders shimmying. That slight smile tickling the edges of your plump mouth.

“I have very distinct — needs,” that didn’t sound bad. “I haven’t done relationships, and I fear that I could be too much,” that could be putting it lightly. He’s extremely needy, and is prone to stress. He needs you to unwind.

“Why’s that?”

“There’s this bit of a humiliation mixed in with degradation that I enjoy,” inhaling sharply, you find yourself staring at the fabric of the couch. You didn’t know how to press him for more information. “Do you want to be my slut?” You tremble, but nod your head. “Why?”

“I’m just yours?”

“Just mine.”

“That’s why,” Lloyd smirks, “If I asked you to stop, would you?” He makes a weird noise with his mouth, looking up at you, “What does that mean?”

“Sometimes in intense sessions, you say stop because you feel it’s what you should say, but you desperately don’t want me to stop. Hence, the need for a safe word, and the need for me to read your body language. Safe word?”

You think long and hard. You know it needs to be something you wouldn’t normally say out loud. Something easy to remember, easy to say, easy for him to understand even if you whisper it. “Nightingale,” Lloyds eyes blink rapidly, and you’re afraid you said something wrong.

“It’s beautiful,” the smile that lights up your face has him feeling all fuzzy in his stomach. The way your body reacts to him is too addictive. You’re more dangerous than he ever thought about being, “The nightingale is often associated with Venus. I think that’s perfect for you.”

“What do you mean by humiliation?”

Lloyd hisses between his teeth. His hands drag up his thighs, that one is a bit more complicated, “When my fingers are buried so deep into your cunt, do you want me to tell you that you’re taking my fingers like my sloppy little slut?” You look just like a puppy. Nodding your head, and scooting closer to Lloyd. “Do you want me to make you clean up your mess with your tongue for my own enjoyment before I let you fuck yourself with my cock?”

Gulping you nod, “Yes.”

“What about what I mentioned last night? Put the toy version of my cock inside of you, pulling your panties up, and asking you to pour me some bourbon. Maybe ask you to get on your knees to wipe something out of the floor, and I can stare at that toy puckering out your lingerie while you crawl around?”

“My god, yes,” you’re such a slut. Maybe it’s a slut for him. Possibly a slut for the praise, but regardless, a slut. “Yes. I want to play with the little Lloyd toys.”

He chuckles. Reaching over to a drawer, and retrieves out the little toy. He’s bright pink. “Ooh! I want to call him LJ,” it didn’t take a genius to know why you wanted to call the toy that. “What do you want me to do?”

“I want you to behave, and listen. Stop pouting,” his voice is still soft, but the command is obvious. “I want you free use,” you furrow your brows, staring into his eyes. “Anytime I want you, I can use you. With discretion of course. I will never fully share you. I will never let another man look upon your body if you don’t want it. I-I,” he stutters, “I want you to explore your sexuality. If you want someone to join us, I would consider it, but everything is with your say so.”

“Wait another man in the bed with us?” he watches your face intently. Making note of how you’re not disgusted, you’re curious.

“Or woman,” you scrunch your nose up, shaking your head no, “It’s not that bad.”

“I just don’t want to share you.”

“I know you don’t, sweetheart. But sometimes we just have to get it in when we can, and if you’re dripping with my seed, you’ll just have to suck it up, even if people are around,” you are a peculiar and funny little thing. Trying to work out different scenarios. “Let’s say that there is a visitor here, and we’re in the middle of something. We finish up as much as we can. But maybe I can’t fully clean you up. I get off on knowing that you're soaked in my cum, while we have company.”

“Yes,” one simple word is all that he needs to hear. You are truly a slut for him. For wearing him. He reaches over towards you, tugging at the hem of your shirt, and you pull it off with so much enthusiasm. Lloyd leans over just a bit for an open mouth kiss on each nipple. Kissing and sucking on the tender flesh until they’re peaked and pebbled up.

“Take off your bottoms,” you listen. “Such an obedient little one. Now, turn around. I want you laying back on my thigh,” this time you don’t move as quickly. Stubbing up and pouting at him. Refusing to listen to his command, and he slaps at the side of your rear. “Behave, and do as I said, so I can play with you and LJ.”

You may huff, but you listen. Laying back on him, and he taps on your thighs to spread your legs wide open. “What other colors of the little Lloyds are there?”

He leans over your body, gazing intently at your split before he barely flicks your sensitive pearl, “One is blue, and the other is purple,” he is too enthralled in your clit, and you’re becoming too aroused to pay attention. “What are their names?”

“Umm…”

Waiting too long, he squeezes your bundle of nerves between his thumb and forefinger, causing you to arch your back in surprise, “What are their names?”

“L-L-Leonard,” that isn’t what he was expecting. “The blue one, he’s Leonard. The purple is — he’s,” you look down your body, watching as Lloyd plays with you. Comparing the thickness of his fingers to your body. But it’s not overtly sexual. He’s having fun exploring your folds. “His name is — Lennon.”

All L names. You would do that. “You do realize I could have you airtight without me ever being inside of you? I could have LJ in your tight little pussy, Leonard in your ass, and Lennon in your mouth. Watching you go dumb on three cocks that might be shaped like me, but they’re not. And then if you get extra desperate, I could push myself in your cunt. Right beside LJ. Do you think you can handle four of my cocks?”

“No,” he plunges a finger into your warmth, and you try To capture his eyes. He didn’t look disappointed, but he does seem less animated. You don’t like seeing him like that. You want him to look proud, “But I would try.”

“Such an eager little whore. That’s why I like you, you know. You would do anything to please me, wouldn’t you?” Breathlessly you answer him. Nodding your head as he dips another finger into your body. Having you spread out, naked, and vulnerable is his favorite. He’s fully clothed, but he gets to look at the work of art that is you.

Venturing deeper into your cunt, he watches your face with every small movement he makes. Learning what makes you tick, and what you enjoy. Listening to the change of your breathing, and the slight differences in your sounds. And then pulls out of you too soon. He caresses your lips with his fingers, making the pillows look glossy with your essence. And then his meaty fingers go into his mouth where he sucks off the rest of your honey, “Hmm, you taste so sweet.”

He licks his lips, reaching over to grab LJ, and brings it to your mouth, and you suck on him enthusiastically. Trying to show him how much of the toy you can take, but he pulls it out of your mouth, and lowers it to your entrance. Lloyd teases the toy around your hole, and without commandment, you spread out further. Angling your body for easier entrance. He slowly breeches through your walls.

His mouth falls open right along with yours as he studies your body opening up, and accommodating him, LJ. The sounds that your body makes is a symphony, ringing in your home. He becomes obsessed with you. Pushing and pulling out the hot pink toy. Your slick coats the fake version of him. Each push into you, he goes deeper.

Deeper.

Deeper still.

Until he can push it in balls deep, and he holds it there. You took every inch. Every thick veiny inch of the fake him. His free hand cups your breast, and he pinches on your swollen nipple. Perfect. You take him so well. While you may have your toys, he has you as his toy. The things he could do to you. It’s not even innately about sex with you as much as giving you pleasure. He finds pleasure in that.

You’re so reactionary to being filled with him that it nearly makes him weak thinking about you waddling around the house with this stupid dick inside of you. Have you get on all fours while you simulate backing up on him. God, your body is immaculate.

“Lloyd,” you pant out, looking between him, and the immobile toy. You need something else, and he’s not giving it to you. It’s both frustrating, and hot as fuck, and it confuses your brain, “Lloyd? Daddy?”

“Yes, baby?”

“I want to come.”

“You’re such a sweet girl. Can I just play with you?” Your body needs some release. It needs anything besides this torturous nothingness. “Why don’t you play with your clit, and let me just watch you get yourself off.”

His eyes look over to the clock, and he smiles. Still holding that stupid toy fully in you. The depth of it gives your belly a funny feeling. An ache you can’t explain. It doesn’t hurt, it’s not fully uncomfortable, but it is different. “Use both hands. Spread those lips far apart, and let me see that cute little swollen clit of yours.”

You follow his instructions. Letting him see the button before creating tight circles on your body. Your hips start to buck up as you imitate sex. Rocking on the couch just to make your tits bounce. Putting on a show for him so he will want to fuck you. Will want to at least let you come.

Your body climbs with pleasure, and you close your eyes. Envisioning that he is hovering over you. Pushing his length as deep as he can, and a lewd moan escapes your puckered lips. He feels so good deep in your body. He feels good with his weight over you. Filling you up with every inch of him, and with his load right in your belly. “Daddy, I’m so close.”

“There you go, princess. You’re right there aren’t you?” Giving him a head nod, he takes his hand off the toy. Bringing both of them to your tits, and he tweaks, and pinches them. Watching as your swaying body creates the friction with the toy you needed. Sucking the hot pink rod into your body, and lifting up so it pulls out. Little desperate slut, “Such a needy little slut. You’re taking every inch of that pretty little cock. But…”

Lloyd doesn’t get to finish his sentence. His fingers let go of your tits, and he pulls your hands off your body. Keeping them spread so you can’t touch yourself, but your body still searches for movement. “Shh,” he says, but you’re too busy trying to jump over the edge of euphoria. “Dolly, don’t you hear the doorbell ringing?”

“What?” You halt. Listening with haggard breaths, and the doorbell rings again. “Lloyd, no!”

“Don’t pout. Just get dressed. Leave the dick inside of you,” you gawk at him. “I said what I said, Dolly. Dressed, with the dick still inside your body. “It’s just Ari. He arrives almost directly on the dot when I ask him.”

You sit up, starting to pull the wretched pink toy out of your body, and Lloyd tsks you. “I don’t want this in me when Ari is here.”

“Do you remember what we said just moments before?”

“Yeah, but you tricked me. You knew he was coming tonight.”

He actually rolls his eyes at you before grabbing your chin, “What’s your safe word?” You shake your head no, “Either say it, or put your fucking clothes on,” you stare at him a moment, unmoving. “Each second I count is how many spankings you’re getting. One,” you don’t dare move. You can be just as stubborn as him. “Two. Three. Four. Five.”

You cross your arms over your chest. Trying to ignore him. “Six. Seven.”

“Fine!” Your voice is a bit raised as you reach for your shorts. Leaving the panties in the floor, and hope they embarrass him. And you grab your shirt. Asshole. He sits there with his legs crossed looking awfully proud of himself. “Aren’t you going to open the door?” You ask him. He got too comfortable, and now you’re dressed, and still aching to find some release that is just right out of your grasp.

“Nope. You are,” your mouth falls open. “Go on, princess. Let daddy’s friend in. He’s been waiting on you to act like the good girl I know you are,” fucking tease. Standing up. You wince. Not in pain but because the movement sends an odd sense of pleasure through your body. “Ari’s waiting. Go on, waddle for me, baby.”

You aren’t going to waddle. You won’t give him the satisfaction. You’re going to walk very oddly, sure. But you hold your chin up high. Refusing to let him know you see his cocky little smile as you make your way to the front door. Smiling up at Ari as you open the door.

His eyes drift down your front with a smirk before he walks past you and into the living room. And you stand at the front door, trying to regulate your breathing. You aren’t going to let him see you struggle. “Sweetheart, Ari and I would like something to drink.”

The fucking asshole. This is so wrong, and still there’s that part of you that enjoys it way too much. A sexual secret that you and Lloyd share, while you have company. Knowing that Lloyd knows what is inside of you. Wonder how he’d feel if Ari knew. If Ari saw. You get the most devilish grin on your face. You didn’t care if people knew that Lloyd could destroy you with his dick. And Ari is bound to know all the sick twisted ways Lloyd gets off.

“Did you mean for her to answer the door with her nipples hard as a rock?” Ari motions his head toward the discarded panties on the floor. Lloyd would get you all worked up right before Ari came here. Edging is his favorite hobby.

“You should see my dick,” Ari rolls his eyes as he settles back into the couch, and then he makes a face of disgust before moving to the chair. “Why did you do that?”

“You’re on a couch with a hard on. Your girlfriend is walking around in short shorts, bra less, and nipples protruding. And that spot was warm,” chuckling, Lloyd pops his fingers into his mouth, moaning, “You’re truly sick. You know that?”

“Have you seen her?”

“I think you’ve seen enough of her,” Lloyd scoffs. His crystal eyes roam down the hall, trying to listen to hear what you’re doing. He hopes you’re fucking yourself. Knowing how frustrated you are, he hopes you’re doing something to get yourself off. He’ll watch the footage when Ari leaves.

“Lloyd, everyone is getting restless. You either need to take an extended break, and let me resume power, or come back. But the mercenaries need to know what’s going on. You can’t hole up here with your slut forever.”

“You’re not saying that in a derogatory way are you?” Ari shakes his head no. “I mean, she is my slut. She’s my girlfriend, Lyla’s mom, my future baby mama, future wife,” Ari clears his throat, “What?”

“That’s another thing. Someone got wind of Candy sniffing around. Me thinks she knows how much you’re worth, and either she’ll hold Lyla over yours and her head, or you’ll have to pay her off.”

“Write her a check,” Lloyd grunts suddenly. The idea of that woman coming and taking Lyla from you is sick. She didn’t even give her daughter a name!

“See the problem with women like her, she’ll always come back for more. You need it legally settled that you and Dolly are her parents. The lawyers are drawing up a petition for adoption. You know, it’ll need to be legal. She will come back.”

“Then I’ll put a bullet through her head,” he’s so annoying and ridiculous that Ari can’t even comprehend his little tyraid. “She won’t have our daughter. Lyla doesn’t even know her. Do you know who puts her to bed every night? Who bathes her every day? Pushes her in that stupid expensive pram? Goes to mommy and me classes for singing and yoga? Who is teaching her to walk? And who has been planning a first birthday party for her? Not some fucking whore who wasn’t worth the money I paid, and who poked fucking holes in the goddamn condoms.”

You flinch walking back into the living room. Getting an apology from both men. You take a deep breath, handing Ari’s bourbon on the rocks to him, and definitely not waddling to Lloyd to give him his. He pulls you nearly into his lap. Leaning you so far onto him, your ass is pointing towards Ari, and you playfully look towards him. He sees it. See the outline of Lloyd’s little dick inside of you.

His lips curve up into a devilish smile, and he raises his brows. Holding his cup up as if to cheers you, and you wiggle your as a bit. Smiling right back before Lloyd smacks over the protruding toy, and you lift up, moaning so loud that Ari chokes on his bourbon. Your face heats up with the most delightful embarrassment and you hide it in Lloyd’s chest.

“Stop looking,” he warns Ari, who still refuses to look away.

“Stop putting it out on a platter for me to stare at,” Lloyd is too fast. Reaching into your shorts, he tugs out the toy, and drops it onto the coffee table. Leaving Ari to stare at something besides yourself. Now it’s a hot pink replica of Lloyd’s cock, shining in the light, and soaked with your honey, and…

“I knew it,” he whispers more to you, even if Ari hears it. “Now that everyone can get their mind out of the fucking gutter. Dolly, Ari tells me we may have some issues with Lyla Bee’s birth mother. It seems she is pushing for leverage, and she’s using our daughter.”

You sit up immediately. Going into mama bear protective mode, despite the soaked dildo on the table. “She won’t take my daughter.”

“Ari doesn’t seem to think paying her off is enough.”

“It won’t be,” Ari raises his cup towards you. “No, it won’t. Women like her know that you would pay anything to keep our daughter with us. She’ll know your weak spot, our weak spot.”

“So she needs a bullet in her head,” that isn’t at all what you meant.

“No!” Ari bursts out laughing, but you’re serious. “I know what you do. But maybe — I think we need, I mean if you’re okay with it, but maybe we should do something legal. I mean what if I adopted her. If she’s legally mine there’s nothing that woman can do, right?”

“Thank you!” Ari raises his hands up, and looks at Lloyd, “She gets it. So, I’ll talk to the lawyers and get the ball rolling. We’ll tell them the address of Dolly and Lyla are to be held off as long as possible. You know you’ll have to go through a background check, and,” he grimaces, looking at the stupid forgotten toy again, “It’ll probably be easier if you’re married.”

���Oh,” you answer in surprise, looking up at Lloyd who remains emotionless. his control on his emotions can be frustrating, “That will be something we’ll have to discuss. But — whatever it takes. I need my daughter,” it’s amazing how quickly you accepted her as yours. With as much time as you spent with her, it just made sense. And now you also get to share her dad. “Is that why you came by?”

“Yeah. And Lloyd promised me a show of you fucking yourself with the dildo,” you’re stunned. Unable to look at either one of them, and Lloyd is no help. He’s completely frozen in place.

“Maybe next time.”

“I was only kidding. I know he has a weird little obsession with his dick, and his toys,” the toys of his dick, or you as the toy? You aren’t sure how Ari means, or if he means both. Doesn’t matter. “I’m sure I’m going to leave, and he will make you perform for him though, and I suppose he’ll want to look and see how wide your cunt is spread,” Lloyd clears his throat.

“Have the two of you watched a girl do that together?” Ari answers yes quickly, while Lloyd groans. “Oh. So you’re really close?” The two seem close. Possibly more than colleagues because who watches a girl masturbate with their best friend with them?

“We didn’t have sex with her at the same time. It was more or less entertainment, and you’re not a paid for show. Anyways,” leaning forward, he places the cup on the table before lifting himself up. “You two have fun with that conversation,” and he leaves.

You swallow deeply, keeping your eyes on LJ. Contemplating how you want to start this conversation. “Do you want to share me?”

“I want you to be happy, and I’ll do whatever experiences you want to keep you that way. If you don’t want Ari to see you riding the toy, or just playing with yourself, you don’t have to. It is not a requirement, and I’m perfectly satisfied with that. Your pleasure is my pleasure. I do enjoy watching you pleasure yourself. I enjoy staving off my own arousal to watch you get off. I like that desperate feeling when I finally sink into you.”

Inhaling deeply, you take off your shirt, and step out of your shorts. Grabbing up the dildo of Lloyd, you suction it to the floor, and stand over it. Keeping your eyes on Lloyd, and he scoots the table to the side, and leans back on the couch. Your knees slowly bend as you sink to the floor. You’re not performing. You’re just watching him. Seeing what it is he truly likes.

Getting to your knees, you hover over the nine inches that make up Lloyd before sinking over him. He stares so hard at the toy splitting you open. He doesn’t even touch himself. He just watches as you slowly bounce over it. “Would you want Ari to see me like this?”

“Would you want him to?” He answers a question with a question, so you pinch your nipples. Trying to make him squirm, but it does nothing.

“Possibly.”

“Then maybe,” infuriating. He can’t even fully answer.

“Would you would want Ari to fuck me?” Straight forward is the best way.

Lloyd sucks in a beat of air, “I’d prefer he didn’t.”

“Would you want Ari to watch you fuck me?”

“I wouldn’t mind it, but only if you wanted it, and were comfortable,” at least he’s being honest. Lloyd’s kink isn’t about sharing you. It’s about showing off what he has.

“Would you let Ari touch me, while you’re fucking me?”

“You know Ari is a bit of a cuck, right?” Your brow raises as you look at him. “Ari enjoys watching people have sex. He enjoys fingering a woman when she’s filled with cum so he can make a mess of her used hole. He enjoys writing on her body how much of a slut she is before he watches a man fucks a load into her. Or him. He doesn’t care who is getting fucked. He likes watching. He enjoys cleaning cum out of her pussy. He enjoys fucking women, and men fucking him. Ari enjoys the art of voyeurism that turns into participation. He enjoys the art and beauty of sex and pleasure. It’s not about love as much as it is about enjoyment. So tell me Dolly, do you want Ari to finger you while eating my cum out of your swollen pussy?”

You don’t know how to answer that. It’s so much information all at once. It’s raw and vulgar. It’s hot as fuck. But to have someone do that to you, you just don’t even know. It’s too much happening at once. Way too much. “You don’t have to answer now. But now that you understand Ari’s odd little choices in sex…”

“Have you ever fucked Ari?”

There’s a bit of a hesitation before Lloyd shakes his head, “No. It’s not like that. He participates, yes. But…”

“Your love has remained platonic?”

“I think you think he’s a third. Ari has no problems finding partners. But he enjoys the ways that I can degrade, humiliate, and praise a sub all at once. You couldn’t handle him,” you didn’t know what that meant, and you no longer have a desire to discuss Ari. You want Lloyd inside of you immediately.

“Fuck me,” he cocks up an eyebrow, smiling. “Fuck me like you love me,” he stands. Removing his shirt, and pulling down his pants and underwear at the same time. The pretty cock springs free as he walks out of his pants and towards you, and lifts you right off the toy, and onto his own cock. Wrapping your legs around his waist as he carries you into the bedroom.

He crawls the two of you onto the mattress, and lays you down gently. His body weight lowering on top of yours. Lloyd uses his nose to pet around your face. Smoothing his skin across the perimeter of your jaw, inhaling your scent as he lifts your arms above your head. Weaving his fingers in yours before he rolls himself in and out of you.

A steady rhythm of thrusting. He’s so soft and deliberate with his movements. Continuing to trace your face with his nose. Whispering your name, “I love you. We don’t have to invite anybody into our sex life. You’re more than enough. And I need you to understand that. If you don’t want Ari to ever see you in the position he did tonight, I need you to vocalize that, okay?”

“Okay,” you pant out. Arching your back to take more of him. You want him all over you.

“You can take all the time in the world to decide that. You can change your mind at any time,” the idea of Ari is exciting to him, but not necessary. Especially if it meant losing you. That is what mattered; you and Lyla. Not some kinky sex and cum play.

“I know,” he knows this is the worst time to try and get you to comprehend what could be a difficult sex life. But he isn’t lying. It isn’t a performance. You’re his obsession. Just you. You are more than enough for him. “What did you know earlier?” your chest heaves as you try and get the question out. “When you took LJ out of me.”

“You left your cream on the toy,” he laughs up against your neck. His mouth and hips are both a work of art, and the most sinful parts of him. “You got yourself off before you came back into the living room didn’t you?”

“Maybe,” he bites your neck, starting to suck on the skin hard. “You’re going to leave a mark!”

“Tell the truth,” he demands before sucking even harder. Sending every synapse in your brain into overdrive.

“Yes! Yes, I was leaning over the counter, and — and I was — I was — Lloyd!” He stops his movements, and you squeal. “Stop!”

“Then answer me.”

He starts a steady pace again, and then pounds into you so hard you see stars. His pace changes to slow, but rough jabbing movements, “I was just playing with my clit, and — and humping air. I was pretending it was you. Daddy!”

You’re wrecked. His movements are so slow, but they hit every right spot. Maybe it’s the blinding stabs into you that has every muscle in your body tightening up. He fucks into you so hard that the hairs on your body stands up, your toes curl, and your fingernails dig into his hands. You wish you could touch some other part of his body. You’re a goner.

Each thrust becomes harder. Deeper. Just. Right. There.

In. The. Perfect. Spot.

“Daddy!” Everything blurs. Lines disappear, and your body is numb with pleasure. Breathing so erratically as stars light up your vision. “Daddy!”

Jolting your body up the bed higher. Until your hands hit the head board, and he drops them. Slamming his hands above you, and he rockets himself into you. Pounding you so hard that your body lurches higher on the bed. Your head starts to knock against the padded board, and you start speaking in tongue to the heavens above as pleasure so deep in your body locks your bones into place.

Lloyd grunts, gritting his teeth as he remains pistoning into your clenching cunt. Your body is locked down, and this high lasts so long that you forget how to breathe. How to even be a human. Bright light floods into your mind, and then a loud, “Fuuuck,” before warmth spews inside of you, and your walls pulse around his cock. Milking him dry.

“My god, if you want me to marry you, I’d do it tomorrow,” you hum as he settles over you. He kisses around your neck. Using his fingers to trace the delicate lines on your neck and collarbone. Something is missing, and now he knows, “We’re going to have to fix this before I go back to work,” he still has to deal with The Verb, and your disgusting father. But he’s going to make sure everyone knows that you belong to someone. Even if you didn’t understand the significance, others would. He’s sure the neighbor down the street that stared at you when you dropped the keys to your car too long would understand exactly what it meant.

He had to make it be known that you were claimed, and unavailable. In every way possible. “Yeah, you’ve got a nasty little hickey on your neck.”

“What?” Your hand feels around your neck where he bit you. Thinking you could see with your eyes before you roll over on top of him. He sighs when he feels himself drip out of you. He doesn’t even care that you’re giving your own mark on him because you’re also grinding your greedy little twat on his stomach. You’re just as insatiable as him.

You nip on his creamy skin. Sucking and kissing over him. You want this ugly thing to last. Moving lower to give him another hickey. And another. If he’s going to leave you, you’re going to make sure everyone knows that he comes home to you. Home to fuck you. And home to his family.

You sit up on him, smiling at your handy work. “There. Now you can go back to work, and show everyone how you have a slut living with you.”

“Yeah yeah. Just keep grinding, and get yourself off on my stomach. I’ll walk around with this stupid thing if that makes you feel better. And I’ll worry about those seven spankings another day,” you forgot about that threat. But he didn’t.

In some weird way, you like knowing that he’ll walk around with red bruises all over his neck. Not that you didn’t trust him. It’s just fun to think that everyone knows he’s getting laid on a regular basis. That he can come home to his Dolly. Home to you. Home to your daughter. And his family.

And you have every intention of letting him use you.

Next

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[sarahowritesostucky]

📖"Temporary Custody"

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Steve x ofc x Bucky; Steve x Bucky

Word Count: 3720

Tags: Dom/sub, bdsm au, dom Bucky, sub reader, hurt/comfort, enemies to lovers, gay sex'n'stuff, straight sex'n'stuff, Steve being a literal Golden Retriever, mental health issues, dub-con, forced submission, referenced childhood abuse and resultant mental health issues, bakery au, m/f/m, gentle domination, total power exchange

Summary: The stigma and shame of being a submissive has kept Mary unfulfilled and in the closet her whole life, until an inciting incident leads to Bucky and Steve taking her in and giving her everything she was always too afraid to ask for.

Trigger warnings: This story contains themes of eating disordered behavior, body image issues, childhood abuse, self-harm, and alcohol abuse.

Wait! I haven't read an earlier chapter of this fic! Story Masterpost

4. Cake Doughnuts (shitty non-doughnuts)

This is not the way Mary expected her life to go. Divorced at 29, probably unemployed, and now declared mentally incompetent and legally attached to some stranger? Ew.

At least when the cops had dragged her into the ER, she’d been drunk still. But she’s sobered up a lot since then, and ever more so during the drive from the hospital to back to Brooklyn. It’s the most awkward car ride of her life. Steve’s the one who drives. Mary doesn’t know why that surprises her, but it does. And he’s the one who leads the way into their building and up the stairs. It’s an older building with character but no elevator, so they make the three story climb on foot. Another resounding Ew.

Mary walks silently around Bucky’s (and Steve’s—because of course he’s gay and married) apartment, feeling shy and hesitant and all the things she just really doesn’t want to be feeling right now. She stops when she gets to the second bedroom, stares at its pristinely tucked-in sheets and neutral tableau.

“You can bring over any stuff you need from your place,” Steve is saying gently from behind her, where he and Bucky are lingering in the hallway. “It’ll be your room. We won’t bother you in there.”

She whips around. “How long do I have to stay here?” Better to figure it out now. Make a plan. She glares at Bucky, since he’s the one in charge of this disaster. “I’m not staying here forever.” Steve looks even sadder at her words than Bucky does, kind of like a kicked puppy. It’s disconcerting, so Mary keeps her attention on Bucky instead, forcing herself to make eye contact. “Well?”

“Until I feel like it’s safe and healthy for you to be on your own,” he says, not a hint of sympathy in his tone. That’s disappointing, and it pisses Mary the hell off.

“Screw you,” she says, not particularly loudly, but definitely full of all the contempt she feels for this guy. “You think you can just—”

He’s got her pushed up against the wall faster than she can track with her eyes. One second she’s standing feet away from him, and the next she just … isn’t. He’s in her space and against her body, one hand at the base of her throat and a thigh pressing forward, holding her to the wall. It’s terrifying and shocking and …

“Oh I know ‘I can just’,” he says darkly.

… She’d rather eat glass than tell him what else it is. “Let go of me,” she grits out.

Disappointingly, he does. Steve is just standing there like a big idiot, blinking wide eyes at the scene. Bucky takes a full step back from her and says, “Don’t curse at me, Mary. It’s disrespectful.”

She wants to ask him exactly what he’s done to earn any respect from her. She grinds the words into her teeth instead while Bucky watches her knowingly. She hates that look almost as much as she hates the way he says her name, as if he’s known her for years rather than a millisecond.

“House rules,” he says calmly. “The practicalities of what’s going to happen. We should discuss that, don’t you think?”

Steve places a hand on Bucky’s shoulder, comes up beside him and wraps an arm around his waist in a way that reminds Mary that the two are a couple. “Hey,” he says softly, speaking in Bucky’s ear. “Why don’t we let her get some rest before you go asserting your dominance, huh?” Mary wrinkles her nose at the word, and Steve regards her kindly. “You’ve gotta be tired,” he says. “You want to sleep?”

Bucky looks like he’ll protest, so Mary nods quickly. “Yeah. Yeah I’m tired.”

She watches as Steve squeezes his husband’s shoulder. “Come on, Babe. Let’s leave her to get some rest. She’s been up all night.”

Suddenly, Mary realizes that she has been up all night, and it’s almost comical, how fast the exhaustion hits her. Her throat starts to ache with a yawn that she fights not to let out in front of them. “Yeah,” she says again, this time thinking less about Bucky and what he wants or doesn’t want, and more about the bed that Steve said was reserved for her. She remembers that she feels like absolute shit, and probably looks it, too. “M’gonna sleep,” she says, turning away from both of them and heading for the bed.

The door ‘snicks’ shut softly behind her, and she assumes it was Steve who closed it. The two men's muffled voices fade off down the hallway, and even though it’s probably naïve to trust them so easily, Mary believes what Steve said about them not bothering her in this room.

She collapses on the bed that is exactly as soft as it looks. The sheets are tucked with military precision and smell like no one’s ever used them before. Mary grinds her face into the cool pillows and briefly wonders if Steve and Bucky have never had any company over to use this bed, before falling into one of the deadest sleeps of her life.

She wakes up feeling much, much better. Steve and Bucky’s guest bedroom has an en-suite, so she goes in and does her best to freshen up with the toiletries she finds stocked there.

There are three Advil Liqui-gel capsules sitting on the bedside table when she comes out. Mary regards them sharply and glances back to the door, but it’s still closed, no sign of life heard from outside in the hallway. Either the pills were there earlier and she just didn’t notice them, or else Steve is a lot stealthier than he looks. Twisting her lips, she scoops the pills up and tosses them back to fend off the headache she can already feel brewing behind her temples. 

A quick search of the room’s dresser drawers yields nothing, and she’s forced to face the fact that she’s going to have to do this confrontation dressed in only her huge tee shirt from the night before. No matter, she thinks, squaring her shoulders and reaching for the doorknob. She’s got a new strategy in mind.

“I’m sorry,” she says, when she ventures out to find Bucky and Steve sitting in the living room.

Steve reaches for the remote to mute the tv, and Bucky sits back with a doughnut that he’s just plucked from a box on the coffee table. He bites into it, looking only vaguely interested "Want one?"

She spares a glance at the box. "Are they yeasted?"

"What's that mean?" Steve asks.

Another glance reveals that they're not, and Mary turns her nose up at them. "It means you're eating shitty, overbaked cake, not a doughnut," she says snottily.

Steve just blinks and looks back at the box with a little frown. Bucky takes another huge bite of his doughnut and chews it, maintaining eye contact with her and speaking around his mouthful, "Weren't you sorry for something?"

Mary purses her lips and starts over with her contrition act. “Yes. Look, I know you guys are just trying to help me. And I know I probably seem like such a hot mess to you right now.”

“Cause you are,” Bucky drawls.

Mary quells the urge to go over there and slap the doughnut straight out of his hands. That won’t help her with this new strategy she’s decided on. ‘Honey versus vinegar’, and all that. “Yeah,” she says instead. “So I’ll admit, my life hasn’t been going very well lately. And I really did need some help.” She forces herself to give Bucky a friendly smile. “So I’m glad you were willing to step in and help me. Thank you.” Bucky is looking at her way, way too unimpressed, and Mary squirms in place, thinking that he should be looking happier at what she’s just said. “Well?” she says.

He chews another bite of doughnut for a solid five seconds, swallows, then says, “How much did it hurt you to spit that out?”

She scowls. “I was trying to be nice.”

“Mm hm.” He pats the couch beside himself in a clear invitation. “Come sit down. Have a doughnut.”

She’s obeying before she even thinks about it, though at least she has the sense to take a seat on Steve’s side of the L-shaped sectional, and not Bucky’s. “I’m not hungry,” she says, just as her stomach gives a small growl.

“Well clearly that’s a lie,” Steve chuckles. 

Mary glances over at him, peeved, but decidedly less so than she is at Bucky. Steve just seems less … threatening, maybe. Whatever it is, Mary pushes it from her mind.

“Look, I’ll stick around for a few hours or something if you really want to make sure I’m okay,” she says, attention back on Bucky, because she can already tell that he’s the one she’s got to convince. “But then I have to get back to my apartment.” She sees Bucky’s expression shutter at this and quickly adds, “I understand that you’re responsible for me, temporarily, technically. And I appreciate what you’ve done. I don’t want to cause you guys any more trouble than I already have. I’m going to take steps to take better care of myself now. And we can … we can keep in touch if you want. Just so you don’t ... you know … worry.” By the end of her speech she’s lost confidence, as she can see from Bucky’s expression that this is not being received well.

"Is that all?" he asks, eyebrow arched.

“Bucky,” she complains, floundering. “Come on. This isn’t … I mean you can’t just, adopt me, or whatever. I’m not some stray dog. You don’t even know me!"

He nods. “Yeah, you’re right. I don’t.”

For one brief, overly-optimistic moment, she thinks that she’s actually going to get out of it that easy.

“But I’ll get to know you. Because you’re not leaving here anytime soon, Honey.”

All of that optimism tanks straight into a sour pit of disappointment. Mary shoots up to standing, startling Steve a bit where he's reaching for the doughnut box. “Don’t call me that,” she snaps.

Bucky takes another smug fucking bite out of his doughnut. “What?” he asks. “‘Honey’?”

“Yes! I’m not your ‘Honey’. I’m not your anything.”

He licks the sugar off his lips and stares her down. “You like it when I call you that.”

“No, I hate it,” she sneers. “Just like I hate your smug, self-satisfied face. I hate men like you.”

Bucky relaxes further back into the sofa, gesturing at her with the last of the doughnut before he stuffs it in his mouth and eats it. “Men like me, huh?” he asks once he’s swallowed, infuriating in his nonchalance. 

“Yes.”

He chuckles and starts sucking his fingers clean one by one. “And what would that be?” he drawls, letting his legs splay wide on the couch cushions, thigh muscles straining against the denim of his jeans. He sees her getting distracted and hums. “Hm? Pray tell, Little girl. Do enlighten me. What are 'men like me' like?” 

For one, airless second, all Mary wants in the world is to drop to her knees right between his legs, put her face at the seam of his jeans and rub her cheek against his thigh, against his … 

Her thoughts go unfocused, fuzzy at the edges, static in her brain. She licks her lips absentmindedly, unable to tear her eyes away from the sight of how he’s positioned himself …

“Mary.”

The sound of her own name draws her out of it, like a slap. She meets his eyes and juts her chin out, half dizzy from the effort. “Men like you think they know everything,” she grits. “Think that they’re the end-all-be-all. Men like you don’t feel any compunction about stepping on everyone around them. Men like you think you’re so fucking smart, that you can’t even fathom the likely alternative.”

“And what would that be?”

“That you’re actually just a cocksure moron,” she hisses.

Bucky tips his head at Steve. “Stevie tells me I’m a moron every other Tuesday, don’t you Babe?”

Steve shrugs a little from where he's leaning forward, holding the lid of the doughnut box open while he tries to choose a flavor. “Well, yeah.”

Bucky smirks, so unaffected that Mary just wants to scream. “So," he says. "You ‘hate men like me’, huh?”

“Yes. I do."

“That’s why you’ve spent your whole life around them, then?”

“I …" She falters. "What?”

Bucky glances over to Steve, and the two of them have some sort of silent exchange overtop the lid of the doughnut box, wordlessly communicating in a way that evidences a years’ long relationship. When they both look back to her, it’s Steve who speaks first.

“We got to read up on you a little, while you were asleep,” he says. He nods to the laptop and packet of papers on the coffee table. “Did some research. Learned about what led up to this.”

“'This'? What are you talking about?”

“You’ve been under the control of domineering men your entire life,” Bucky says, interjecting more forcefully over Steve’s gentler tone—Mary feels like she’s getting whiplash between the two of them. “First it was your father, out in Bumfuck, Nowhereville,”

“Indiana,” Steve mutters.

“Whatever,” Bucky snaps, zeroing back in on Mary with glinting eyes. “And he was ‘that sort of man’, wasn’t he?”

Mary feels a little like she’s been punched in the gut. “So what?” she says. “So you looked me up? Hospital gave you info on me and now you think you know me? You don’t know shit.”

“Your whole life, he said jump and you said how high, right?” Bucky asks, clearly not wanting or needing an answer to the question. Maybe Mary’s expression is answer enough. She’s not quite sure what she must look like right now. Horrified maybe. Or furious. “And then you latched onto the first jerk who’d give you a ride out of town.”

“Shut up.”

“Married him, too. And that worked for you alright ... Until it didn’t.���’

The backs of her eyes are starting to feel hot. “I said: shut up,” she whispers.

Bucky nods and leans forward on the couch, as if her anger and humiliation mean nothing to him. And damn him, maybe they don’t. Maybe he likes this, the sick bastard. “If he hadn’t hit you so bad, you would’ve stayed. Right? He met your needs in every other way.”

Mary shudders. “What are you talking about?”

"I'm talking about self-medicating, Honey. It's what you've been doing. Probably since you were a little girl."

She's disgusted with herself for the tears that break through, unmoored by how Bucky knows all of these things about her, and that he's able to fill in the gaps so easily. “What the hell is your problem, huh?” She swipes angrily at her eyes. “What does any of that have to do with anything? Except for that it’s none of your goddamn business?!”

Bucky softens a little. He glances at Steve, who gives him a warning look. “Sweetheart,” he says, looking back at Mary plaintively. “The drinking and the cutting, the feeling miserable and being sad all the time; that all started after your divorce, yeah?”

That … is not what Mary expected him to say. She’d been expecting more insults, more heartless jabs at her past. “I … What?”

“Answer the question,” Steve urges gently. He looks like he’s in on some secret with Bucky, something only Mary doesn’t know. 

“Yeah,” she admits warily. “I mean, divorce is … well it’s divorce. It sucks. Of course I wasn’t happy about it.” She scowls and crosses her arms. “What’s your point?”

“My point is that, dysfunctional as they were, you had very specific relationships with very specific types of men, until what, like a year ago?”

“... Year and a half,” she mutters, unease creeping up her spine at where she thinks this is going.

“Right. And that’s when all your troubles started. Because let's be real: you weren't hurting yourself before then." He tilts his head, feigning curiosity. "Why do you think that is, Mary? Why weren't you falling apart before? When you had a father touching you wrong, or a husband putting holes in your drywall?"

"Stop," she breathes.

He nods sadly. "It was was after, when you didn’t have those people in your life anymore, structuring it, telling you what to do. Once you were alone, that’s when you started to fall apart.” He levels her with a pitying gaze. "Now why do you think that is?"

Oh, hell no. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Mary says. She actually takes a physical step back from where she’s standing. “You think what? I was using my douche ex-husband as some sort of a … a dom? My freaking father?!”

“Mary, calm down.”

“Don’t tell me to calm down!” She jabs her finger at Steve, who’s spoken. If she thought she’d been angry at these two before, well now she’s just … she’s just … “You’re fucked up,” she tells them, voice full of quiet fury. “And you,” she points at Bucky. “You might be diagnosed with some freaking mental disorder or whatever, but that doesn’t give you the right to put that fucked up psychology onto everyone else!” She jabs her thumb at her own chest. “I’m normal! I’m not like you. I don't–I don’t have …”

“Mary,”

“No! I don’t. I–I didn’t …” Vaguely, she starts to recognize that her pulse is pounding in her ears, that it’s getting harder to draw breaths. “My f-fa, my, my f-father…”

Bucky stands up and comes towards her. “Mary,”

“No!” She makes to push away, to leave the room, but he closes in too fast and before she knows it, he has one hand on her throat and one at the base of her skull, gripping her hair. And it’s not mean, the way he’s holding her, but when she jerks away it tugs her hair unpleasantly and she whines and stills. “Let go,” she gasps, terrified by the way his hands make her feel.

“Steve, a little help?”

Her heart lurches as she hears Steve move, sees him getting up off the couch and coming over. “Wait,” she whispers, afraid and not understanding why. Not understanding why she’s even whispering in the first place, instead of screaming like she should be. “No, wait, wait—”

Steve is behind her, and even though he’s hardly even doing anything, just has his hands resting on her lightly, Mary still feels a tremor run through her whole body. She feels so trapped. Fixed in place and terrified, but not because she thinks they’ll hurt her.

Because suddenly she can draw a deep breath again.

And she can see the look in Bucky’s eyes, can see how he knows that. “Please,” she whispers, closing her eyes when tears well to the surface. “Please, just, I just need to …”

“You’re okay,” Bucky soothes. “You’re okay, Mary. Just breathe against my hand. Breath against me, against Steve.”

She shakes her head, even though she knows what he means. With her eyes squeezed shut like this, she can feel both him and Steve so solidly, can feel the points where their bodies connect with hers. When she inhales, she feels them there. “What the hell?” she winds up whispering, more to herself than to them.

“You were starting to have a panic attack,” Steve murmurs. He hugs her from behind, and Mary shivers but doesn’t try to shrug him off.

“I don’t have those,” she says. Even to her own ears, it sounds weak. “I don’t,” she insists.

“First time for everything,” Bucky says.

They stand there for a long minute or two. Hell, maybe it’s more. As long as Mary keeps her eyes shut, she can at least pretend that it’s only a minute. It’s only once she opens her eyes that she has to face reality. When she does, she sees that Bucky’s watching her keenly. He looks … sad.

The thought that the man with one hand fisted in her hair and another wrapped around her throat is concerned for her strikes Mary as almost comical. She doesn’t laugh, but she also doesn’t feel close to crying anymore. “I’m okay,” she rasps, swallowing thickly. “I’m okay now.” Shaky maybe, but better. She can breathe again. “Really, I–I am.”

“Yeah?”

She nods, and the motion makes her all the more aware of his hand on her throat. She has to fight back a pleasured sigh at the feeling of it, fight to keep her eyes from fluttering closed. 

Bucky shifts in, sandwiching her even closer between their bodies. “So what?” he murmurs. “You want me to let go of you now?”

“Yeah,” she says, not feeling like she wants that at all. “Please.”

He hums. “You’re very good at saying ‘please’,” he observes. “And at telling me you’re not submissive.”

“M’not,” she insists, trying harder to make her voice firm, or at least more than a pathetic, breathy whimper. She looks him in the eyes again.

When had she stopped looking him in the eyes? She can’t remember. She feels like she’s watching this all happen through the lightest sort of fog, or maybe in slow motion, like a videotape playing at only 70% speed. Something like that, she thinks dazedly. She doesn’t feel like she has to worry about it, though. It's warm and heavy and nice here; like being under bathwater.

Bucky’s not looking at her in concern anymore. He looks more relaxed now, nicer, his eyes softer around the edges. And he hasn't let go of her, either. 

“She down?” 

That’s Steve’s voice, coming from right behind. Mary likes the way she can feel the quiet rumble of it where he’s pressed to her back.

“Mmhm. Waay down.” 

“Is it normally that easy?”

Bucky chuckles, it's a nice sound that Mary likes, the richness of it making her want more, like how chocolate makes you want more.

“No, it’s not. This is deprivation, right here. Poor thing.” 

“Is she gonna be okay?”

“Oh, sure. We’ll just stay like this for a minute. She needs the contact."

Something about the two of them talking about her like she’s not there is … well it multiplies the bathwater feeling. She hears Steve asking a question, and Bucky making an unhappy noise and answering,

“It should never be this easy. Right now she’d go down for anyone, for even the smallest thing.”

“And she was working in the service industry?” A huff of breath hits Mary’s ear. “Jesus.”

“... Hey,” Mary says, sure that she should protest somehow.

But Bucky’s hand tightens just the barest bit on her throat, and he shushes her sweetly, tells her she’s a “good girl,” and kisses the top of her head.

And Mary pretty much forgets what she was going to say, after that.

Series Masterlist

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card: sarah-writes-stucky / sarahyellow

Square N5: childhood trauma

[dropofbittersea]

Stiles runs away during his first heat, right into the waiting and ambiguously scary arms of the Alpha's nephew, Derek Hale. He doesn't have any choice except to submit, but along the way, he digs up a mystery that threatens his family and even the town's safety.

[corrodedbisexual]

Work your magic, part 2

Steddie | E | 14.5k total | Chapter 2/2 | AO3 link

So, uh... it's been 8 months, but chapter 2 is here with Eddie's POV and the whole thing suddenly grew feelings and is now complete with more smut and a happy ending. 💁 Enjoy.

Chapter 2 featuring: Light Dom/sub, Soft Dom/Top Eddie Munson, Sub/Bottom Steve Harrington, Explicit & Enthusiastic Consent, Boys Kissing, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Spit Kink, Praise Kink, Sex Toys, Cock Rings, Vibrators, Gentle Sex, Teasing, Orgasm Control, Coming Untouched, Fluff, Banter, Crush at First Sight, Getting Together, POV Eddie Munson

(A very filthy snippet under readmore)

Eddie places the toy in Steve’s palm and leans against his side as he talks.

“So here’s the plan, gorgeous. I’m gonna take your clothes off. I’ll take my time with my fingers, getting you ready, and then I’m gonna put this inside you and turn it on.” Steve jerks a little when Eddie presses a button, making the toy vibrate in the man’s hand as Eddie leans closer to his ear and keeps talking. “See, this part here will be right against your sweet spot,” he trails his fingers along the short shaft, the buzz tickling his skin. Steve’s breaths grow heavy beside him. “And this,” he shifts his fingers down to the base, “fits nicely against your balls. Imagine how it’s gonna feel, sweetheart?”

Steve swallows audibly, his own fingers following Eddie’s. Eddie grins to himself. Steve’s shorts aren’t exactly hiding the effect that fantasy alone has on him; he presses on, voice a sultry whisper, lips almost touching Steve’s ear.

“Imagine what a delicious tease that will be for you. Make you squirm and your pretty cock leak while I enjoy kissing every inch of your body. Until you can’t take it anymore, and you start begging me to fuck you.” He bites on Steve’s earlobe playfully, hears him exhale sharply.

“Holy fucking shit.”

Eddie pulls back to meet Steve’s wide eyes, not bothering to hide the smug grin on his face.

“And then, if you like… I’ll do just that. Sounds good?”

[xoxiu]

late bloomer | namjin x oc

chapter one

ao3: here

summary: at Amelie's age, a submissive should have been tagged years ago during puberty. nevertheless, Seokjin and Namjoon were beyond happy to be paired with her, even if the circumstances were a bit unconventional.

the department of behavioral health is in charge of ensuring that doms and subs are guaranteed equality and that all relationships are safe, sane, and consensual. they strive to provide proper health, education, and community services to help those with secondary sexual hormones.

warnings/tags: smut, BDSM, dom/sub, polyamory, fmm, dubcon, tpe, domestic discipline, kink exploration, STRICTLY non-sexual age play/age regression

a/n: it’s been one hell of a year let’s just leave it at that. lemme know how you vibe with this 🫶

Amelie felt the heavy bass deep within her chest- the club’s music was loud enough to drown out her self-deprecating thoughts. Finally, she thought, she could just let loose and vibe. Maybe hook up with a stranger, smoke some weed, and let herself live a little. Considering the past two weeks of hell and torture she had endured, Amelie felt she deserved a good weekend bender.

The young girl smirked as the tall, handsome man in front of her slid another shot of whatever in her direction. She gratefully downed it in one go, keeping the heavy eye contact with the stranger. No one counted just how many drinks Amelie had consumed by this point. The sleaziest club in the city wasn’t exactly known for following alcohol laws down to the letter. All she knew was that she had yet to pay a penny for her drinks, and she considered that a success.

Everything around her began to fade into that delightful haze Amelie constantly chased. The man’s words sounded as if they all were underwater, even Amelie’s giggles felt like they weren’t her own. They were millions of miles away in some bathtub; even the lights and music that once harrowed her senses seemed to blur in that blissful haze in the distance. She didn’t control her body at this point as she wrapped herself around the man’s arm, following him out to the street.

“Woah,” she swayed into the man as he led her to a motorcycle parked out back. “This is- this’s yours?” Amelie didn’t even bother to listen for a response before toddling over to the bike. From behind her, the stranger grabbed the helmet and placed it on Amelie’s head. The fit reminded her of when she would ride a snowmobile with her father back in the day and how the helmet was just a bit too big. Surely, it was fine- the bike didn’t even have a scratch, so this guy must be a safe driver.

Amelie hopped onto the motorbike behind the hot stranger, wrapping her arms around his waist. The two of them sped off down the street, Amelie’s giggles turning into joyous, careful laughter and cheers. This felt so right, unlike how prudishly she was living before. No person should be subjected to twelve years of monotomous schooling, only to then immediately follow it up with four more years of stupid shit. She felt relieved the prestigious university had kicked her out. Amelie was proud to be a college dropout, finally allowed to live life for the first time.

In a matter of seconds, Amelie felt herself fly forward, continuing the forward momentum of the motorcycle while the bike stayed in its place. Without a clue as to what was happening, Amelie turned her head to see the bike caught up under the grill of a sportscar with the hot stranger halfway through the windshield. The last thing Amelie felt was the metal on top of her legs before everything snapped to black.

———

The sun started to illuminate the living room as Seokjin sipped his morning coffee. His eyes shifted from the beautiful sunrise back to the television, nonchalantly catching up with world news. The man prided himself on being a well-informed citizen but could only stand news stations in the morning. They were much more chipper than the afternoon and night runs. And much less fearmongering.

The previous night leading into this morning felt more relaxing and quiet than what Seokjin was used to. As a nurse, he practically lived his life on call, always waking up at ungodly hours to take up a shift at the emergency department. The days when he could lazily lounge into his primary practice and dick around with his coworkers were great. This was turning out to be one of those days.

Just as he rose from the couch to fetch his work bag, his cell phone began to ring. He quickly looked at the number, hoping it was a coworker telling him not to bother coming in today and to just have a nice day off. Alas, it was not. Instead, it was the Behavioral Health Center he frequently volunteered at. Jin stared at the caller ID, dumbfounded and confused as to why they would be reaching out to him. He managed to answer the call right before it went to voicemail.

“Hello?” Jin asked, putting his work bag back onto the kitchen table. This call might take a while.

“Yes, is this Seokjin Kim?” A female voice replied, her voice monotone and void of any indication of why she would be calling at 6 in the morning.

“Yes, it is-“

“I’m aware that you and your husband are on the Submissive Waiting List?”

Seokjin choked on air at her words. At one point in time, he and Namjoon yearned for a submissive, seeing as both of them were dominant. After taking the necessary classes to get on the coveted waitlist, they just kind of forgot about it. Their own dynamic grew, and the need for a submissive wasn’t as needed as before.

“Oh, yeah. Uh, I meant to take us off that list ages ago…”

“We have a submissive that aligns with your subtypes and biomarkers.”

Well, shit, Seokjin thought. He never thought he would see the day. As if the woman on the phone hadn’t heard his previous statement, she rattled off an appointment time and location. Not sure what to do and always struggling to tell others ‘no,’ Seokjin only confirmed that he would be there and hung up.

All the man could do was stand in the kitchen and let out a sigh. He sent the work group chat a quick text alerting them to a sudden family emergency before heading over to the master bedroom where Namjoon still slept. Seokjin had two hours to talk this over with his husband before their household went from two to three.

[anamelessfool]

VIII Strength (AO3 Link)

Papa IV x Dom GN Reader (E, MDNI) 3,856 words

VIII STRENGTH Strength (Physical and Will), courage, persuasion, influence, compassion

Copia is a pent up sort of man, he always has been. He enjoys being Papa but on his worst days the title has a near physical weight pressed across his shoulders. He comes home to you, and you can tell when it's been one of those days. Luckily, he has you to guide him.

Tags: Power Play, Mind Games, Sub Copia, Body Worship, Servant Roleplay, Bubble Baths, Chastity Device, Trust and Respect, Light Bondage, Oral (Give Receive GN), Size Difference (sorta), Literally What I Want For My Birthday, Ohhhh So This Is Why I Like Monsters

Dedicated with love to @thew0man for all her support and how much she GETS IT OK SHE GETS IT

Also thanks to @prophetofthesufferpuppets @fishwithtitz and @ghostchems for beta reading it

Taglist and Spicy @resin-popia portrait below the cut!

Taglist: @historian-crown @monkberryghouldelight @ghuleh-recs @fishwithtitz @can-of-pringles @in-cardi-c-we-thrust @riptide-kid

@thew0man @kabukiaku @ghostchems

[spiceofvy]

Sub bottom!Felix x dom top!Partner

Just sub Felix brainrot

cws: d/s, edging, overstimulation, nipple play, mild petplay, dacryphilia, the mildest pain play

Felix is such a good boy for his partner. Always listening so well making sure to pleasure them. Everything to make his partner feel good. And they better tell him he's doing good. That little angel preens so beautifully for praise. Eating it up and always craving more. He loves being called pretty and being told how good he does. He gets immense pleasure from making his partner feel good so them telling him that they feel good, that he makes them feel good is the best thing that could happen to him. His favorite things to be called include baby, angel or the classic good boy. And he would do anything to be called that. Sometimes he also enjoys some petplay, looking so good with the cat ears and the collar. Being called kitten while a plug with a cat tail on it presses against his prostate with every move. His mind turning into mush in no time. Meowing for his partner without any sign of embarrassment.

He gets overstimulated quickly after one orgasm so his partner enjoys edging him to make sure that their fun isn't over in a minute. Because once Felix lets go he cums really fast. Blushing when his partner teases him for it.

Sometimes he struggles a bit with doing everything his partner wants from him. When he tightens his fist and bites his lip to keep himself grounded. To not get lost in the intense pleasure he is put through. He tries so hard. He just really wants to be good. He wants his partner to be proud of him.

But sometimes he just can't be good. When he can't stop himself from cumming no matter how hard he tries he just can't hold it back.

And when he gets punished for not listening he turns into such a crybaby.

His hands tied up making it impossible to touch his partner. As they make him cum again and again. Jerking his dick. Milking his prostate. After his second or third orgasm he is so sensitive that he cums from just having his nipples played with. Writhing as his partner twists and tugs at the sensitive buds to get the cutest whines out of him. Tortured by the pained pleasure.

He tries to take his punishment well but he just can't stop the tears from flowing. Sobbing, begging to his partner that he will be better. Hoping for just one more chance to be a good little boy for them.

His partner enjoy his state just a little too much. His usually deep voice being all whiny and his pretty eyes filling with tears. His poor sensitive body blushing. His cute dick dark red and sensitive from being teased into one orgasm after another. His nipples swollen from all the stimulation. Hearing his pleading, his partner is so close to just give in and give their sweet angel exactly what he wants. But on the other hand he did misbehave and now he has to live with the consequences.

And so they carry out his punishment watching him drool all over himself as he whines little pleas and "I promise I will be good now" again and again. But to no avail.

After the scene the aftercare is filled with sweet words of affirmation and cuddles. His partner is well aware that that's what he needs after being taken apart like this. After they gently wiped him off, they dress him in his favorite pajamas. Feeding him chocolate and making sure he drinks lots of water.

All while whispering the sweetest compliments to him. How good he did for them. How well he took his punishment. How much they love him. How lucky they are to be with him.

They shower him in soft kisses and touches as he slowly falls asleep.

[oceansssblue]

I have a crackship that can be fun to play with…

Baylan Skoll x Hunter 👉👈

Can be like. They meet at the clone wars in a mission. Lots of freedom to play with~ and smutty. Younger man and older man is so good

I see whatcha mean... naive young hunter x daddy skoll coming right up! I think you're gonna adore this!

Xx, Blue.

"OPEN FOR YOU" – HUNTER / BAYLAN SKOLL 🔥

WARNINGS: Hunter's first time with a man, sort of discovering his bisexuality. Fleeting mentions of blood and war related stuff but nothing overly graphic. Explicit sex scene; hand in neck, hair pulling, bitting, thigh fuck, anal, sort of dom/sub implied energy, breeding and humiliation kink.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Hunter's drenched in sweat and blood. It's like a second layer on his body; slipping through the small cracks of his armour and dripping down his skin. Some of it has already dried; making him feel dirty and sticky. He holds himself firm through the after-battle debriefing, though, no matter how exhausted he is and how much his muscles ache; other commanders and captains from the one-eighty-fourth around him. Jedi Masters Jor Aerith and Baylan Skoll are updating Admiral Rassa on their newest victory. They'll probably come to pick them up in the early hours of the morning; letting them a night to rest.

The briefing ends; and Hunter patiently waits for the rest of the clones to scatter around the camp. General Aerith leaves chatting with his commander as well; and Hunter aproaches the other Jedi to find out the motive of his request for him to stay behind.

"General" he salutes, as formal as always, ignoring the fluttering in his chest of being this close to him.

Something in Hunter had shifted upon seing him for the first time. He had never thought of men like that; already used –and satisfied– to his fleeting romances with corusscanti girls to think on anything else. He had always been attracted to females; to the way that a pair of breasts felt in his hands, their curves, a shy but flirty smile, and the way they sweetly moaned against his ear when Hunter pounded into them. Women were beautiful things, and he hadn't spared men a single glance of interest before last week.

General Skoll, though... Something in Hunter had shivered when his chocolate eyes had first landed on the man. Kaminoans had undeniable done a fairly good job on making fine male human specimens; an optimal physique for a soldier's life. Clones were tall, strong, loyal and dextreous; but Baylan Skoll was something else. He was huge. Hunter doesn't remember ever seeing a human that tall before; robust, too. When they had been introduced upon the batch's arrival, Hunter had felt small besides him. And well, the sergeant of CF99 may be just a tiny few inches shorter than the rest of his brothers; but he had never really felt small before.

He had unconciously payed attention to him for the rest of the battle; and not only because his team had been assigned to him. Between one blaster shot and another, he had watched as the Jedi brought and end to hundreds of separatist droids with a flicker of his saber; a blue that rivaled with the colour of his eyes. Hunter noticed how different his fighting style was as opposed to other Jedis he had seen before. General Skoll's moves held a sort of unusual anger in them; a quiet and deadly one.

"Your team did an excellent job out there" the man offers, interrupting Hunter's line of thoughts and bringing him back to the present. "I must admit I was curious to see this elite team of troopers I had heard so much about".

Hunter doesn't like to feel like this; like a giggling teenage girl who had just discovered her first boy crush. He feels nervous, flushed. He has to make an effort to hold the Jedi's stare.

"Thank you, Sir" he politely replies, swallowing the rest of his emotions down. "I'm glad to know we lived up to the task".

The man smiles. It's such an inusual thing to see in war Hunter's heart skips a beat in his chest. His brown eyes flicker over the General's facial features; from his short graying beard to his lips and travelling up to his nose and cheekbones.

"You did. You looked almost feral in the battlefield; all instincts" he points out, and Hunter is suddenly stunned by the realisation that the Jedi had also been playing attention to him.

A tiny blush settles on top of his cheeks.

"Speaking of which" the man continues, taking an object from under his robes and handing it to him. "I believe this is yours".

Hunter reaches a hand towards his vibroblade; he had lost it in the caos of the battle, lost in who knew which droid. Knowing the General had bothered to retrieve it for him...

"T-thank you, Sir" he can't control the tiny stutter in his voice, and he busies himself placing the blade in it's pocket in his thigh again, avoding the heavy weight of Baylan's stare.

The man takes a few steps forward until there are nothing but inches in between their bodies; surprising the clone by placing a calloused hand under his chin and gently pushing it upwards. Hunter gasps; having no other option left than to look into those blue eyes.

"I'm... Curious about you, Hunter" the Jedi confesses, making the clone's eyes widen in surprise. "My tent is open for you, if you'd like to visit after you clean up".

He doesn't seem to expect an answer from him now; and Hunter rushes to wash the war off of him with a deep blush crawling down his neck onto his chest.

Jedi General Baylan Skoll wanted to have sex with him. Jedi General Baylan Skoll wanted to... Fuck him.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Not that he could take a proper shower –hell, not even a sonic–, but at least Hunter feels more like a regular person when all the gore from the week-long battle is washed off of his body. Some may think dipping his blacks into a bucket of used water to scrape it through his body unhigienic and disgusting; but honestly, it feels like glory. The water is cold, the blood and grime dissapears from his skin; and not even the uncomfortable feeling of those same wet blacks sticking onto his body afterwards is enough to take such a simple pleasure from it. There's no space for comodities in the battlefield.

Hunter makes an excuse to his brothers –though they can probably tell there's something else going on, Tech frowning and Crosshair's eyes following him out of their tent–, and the sergeant walks almost in a trance in the direction of Baylan's. He clears his throat nervously right outside of it; and then makes his presence known without yet stepping inside. Some part of him still thinks he has to have malinterpreted this. Or that he may have changed of opinion.

"General?"

Hunter is glad the Jedi's have camped a bit further away than the rest of the clone tents; it gives him an illusion of privacy.

The curtain of cloth that makes the door for the tent is pushed away; and the Jedi Master scans him with interest, in silence. Hunter tries not to fidget. He's a soldier; he has faced more life-threatening and dangerous situations than this.

"Come on in" the man gestures inside.

Hunter complies, and shivers when the General follows him until his chest is almost pressed to the clone's back; his towering figure making Hunter feel small once again. It's an... Exciting feeling. Hunter involuntarily holds his breath.

"I'm glad you decided to take the chance" the man almost rumbles, his warm breath hitting one side of Hunter's neck. "I had my doubts".

Hunter gulps and does his best at staying in place. Now that he comes to think of it, he's almost standing at attention. He can't help but to feel tense; it's a new experience for him. Is it for Baylan too, or is he used to this kind of things?

Hunter stays in silence. He honestly has no idea what to say.

One of the Jedi's hand crawl up to brush through his long, wet hair, and another shiver spreads through Hunter's spine. If the man notices it, he doesn't point it out.

"Have you been with another male before, Hunter?" He gently asks, perhaps reading into his nervousness.

Hunter tries not to keen into the way the man plays with his hair. He's never been more gratefull for its length.

"N-no, Sir. I... Didn't even think I was into that" he admits.

Baylan hums, interested, and carefully tugs Hunter's hair down, forcing his chin up. He's so tall that Hunter is able to meet his eyes with the help of his curved spine.

A rush of pleasure travels through his veins, sending warmth towards his cock. It's hot, the way the older man is making him bend, how heavy and focused his stare is. A tiny sound escapes the clone's lips. The Jedi smirks almost imperceptibly.

"What is it about me that makes me special, then?" He asks, daring Hunter to confess his thoughts and admiration.

One hand starts a slow pace from his lower stomach up towards his neck, a teasing caress that brings goosebumps on Hunter's skin. The soldier has to make an effort to not close his eyes; to keep his mind clear enough to answer.

"You're..." shyness atempts to take hold of him, but Hunter pushes himself to say it. "Handsome. Big. Powerfull".

It's a good sum up, he thinks.

The last word seems to catch Baylan's attention.

"Mm. Powerfull" the hand in his hair tugs with a little more force, and Hunter feels his spine complaining, but he doesn't ask to be released from his firm hold. "A curious observation. I wonder if you find that attractive because you'd like to feel the exact opposite?"

The hand teasing his body climb up to his neck; and the General's fingers firmly close around it.

Hunter whines.

It's not impeeding his breathing; but it's strong enough that he feels threathened by it.

His cock throbs. A sort of dizzying cloud envelops the soldier's mind. Hunter's body curves further; pushing his own neck against the Jedi's strong grip and sticking his ass backwards, an unconcious plead to feel the older man's body on his.

Baylan chuckles, and conceeds Hunter's silent request. He closes the few inches between them with a single small step forward; and presses the whole length of his bigger body against the sergeant. Hunter feels simultaneously relieved and nervous; the General's own erection trapped between them, and very noticably pressed against his lower back.

"I'll take that as a yes" Baylan murmurs, amused, blue eyes roaming over Hunter's beautiful shape. "You don't have to feel ashamed. It works perfectly fine for me. I'm aware you're more than capable in the battlefield; the thought of being able to break that perfect little soldier disposition sends a rush of desire through me".

The Jedi finally releases his hold on both his hair and neck –Hunter slumping a bit forward inevitably, but inmediatly caught by the man's strong hands on his hips–; and Baylan brushes his lips over the spot behind his right ear.

"You want that, don't you? Want to please your General?" He taunts him, and Hunter whimpers in a mix of desire and humiliation.

"Answer me" the Jedi snaps, pushing his own hips against Hunter's backside.

He gasps.

"Y-yeah" he breathes out, red tinting his cheeks and neck. "Yes, Sir".

The man smiles, though Hunter is unable to see it. He caresses his hands up and down his sides; finally coming around to take two full hands of the clone's ass. Hunter sighs.

"Let me see you" the Jedi asks, voice low and raspy.

Hunter nods, and he stays put while the older man tugs his blacks down, moving down the zipper from neck to the base of his spine and then pushing it down further until he feels warm air in his thighs and ass. The fabric pooling right over his knees keeps him firm in place; he'd fall otherwise.

"Fuck" the General groans, rough fingertips caressing over Hunter's plump ass. "I can't wrap my head around how such a trained soldier can have such a pretty bubbly ass and thighs".

Hunter blushes and tries to hide under the courtain of his own hair; shivering upon the Jedi's caresses on his heated skin. He hears him untying his own pants; hears him divest his robes and his pants dropping onto the floor. He feels cold for a second before a new warmth presses back against his body; naked skin on naked skin feeling impossible delicious and exciting.

"You've got such soft thighs... It would be a mistake not to dedicate them some proper attention first, you know" he tells him, dick twitching where it's resting on the very top of Hunter's butt, and the smaller man shivers in his hands.

"W-what do you want me to do?" He asks, voice surprisingly meek for a firm confident person as him.

The Jedi answers with a pleasant sigh.

"Hold on" the man adjusts him and grabs himself with one hand, pushing his erection between Hunter's legs, hands then taking hold of the clone's surprisingly narrow waist. "There, now press your legs close together as tight as you can. I'm going to fuck your thighs".

Hunter moans and complies; a drop of precum on his own cock at the rush of desire and excitement of having the man between his legs, the General's dick big and hard pressing against the underside of his. God, this is...

"Good boy" he whispers over Hunter's ear. "Now stay right like that, and let me find pleasure in your body, little clone".

Hunter feels the last rational part of his mind vanishing. He whines loudly, arching like a slut, legs pressed together, letting the older man use his thighs like a warm sleeve toy for his cock. It brushes against his own, insistantly, one time after the other; and when Baylan bites a harsh nip on the side of his neck and orders him to stay quiet, Hunter trembles. And he finds himself starting to beg.

"Please" he whimpers, squirming involuntarily in the man's strong grip. "Please, Sir..."

Baylan groans. It's torture, the way the younger man looks so debauched in his arms; beautiful soft thighs trapping his erection and long hair moving with each thrust. Hunter is the prettiest man he's ever seen. He's strong and sexy; but simply pretty, too. His sweet chocolate eyes, the needy pout in his lips, the way his spine curves for him. So young, so inexperienced, so naive. Baylan aches to be inside of him as well.

"Sh, okay, soldier. Go lay down on the rucksack" he orders, taking a step back to watch him, and smirks in delight when the clone doesn't wait a single second to offer himself up to him.

Baylan strokes his cock while he watches him laying down; hunger spreading like a fire inside of him at Hunter's little trembles of excitement and uncertainty. Oh, Baylan's going to break him.

"Put something under your hips. I want to be able to fuck myself as deep as I can into you".

Hunter whimpers and nods; eyes scanning around before he grabs a backpack and pushes it under him. It's not the most comfortable; but they're not in a motel. This would do.

The Jedi finally kneels down; knees at both sides of Hunter's legs. He squeezes the soldier's ass in his hands twice; then plays along his crack. Hunter shivers; opening his legs wider.

"L-lube?" He has the mind to ask.

The Jedi holds up a hand; and a small bottle of bacta flies towards him. Hunter relaxes on top of the rucksack. Bacta is a common practice in the GAR.

"This will probably feel uncomfortable at first" the Jedi warns him, deciding to be particularly patient for the young one's first experience, at least for now. "Try to relax. I'm sure you'll grow to like it".

Hunter nods, and mentally braces himself for what's about to come. It is uncomfortable, as the Jedi said; but he had been so desperate to have more, to have something inside of him, it's almost a relief. He shushes his own sounds against his folded arm, closing his eyes and focusing in the small bliss.

Bayland doesn't even try to hit Hunter's prostate with his fingertips. He can feel the clone's emotions in the Force; desire and excitement swirling in a beautiful mix. He'd probably cum right on his fingers if he'd attempted it. Instead, the older man focuses on opening him up. He'd cum hugging his cock. He just needs to be a little patient.

Hunter whimpers when the General works him up to three fingers. He feels so full; and yet he still wants more. His hips are making tiny movements backwards; a silent request that the Jedi is quick to interpret.

"What is it, sergeant? Is this not enough for you?" He asks, voice rumbling behind him.

Hunter gives him a small moan and pushes his hips back. The Jedi hums.

"If you want my dick, you're going to have to ask for it".

His voice is firm, almost unbothered; it's so fucking sexy Hunter whines and arches his back in response, voicing his petition inmediately.

"Please General" he begs, breathless, fucking himself into his fingers. "I want your cock now".

The Jedi groans; directing Hunter's chin to the side so that he can kiss him deeply, swallowing the surprised sound that escapes the clone. Hunter sighs and melts into it. Baylan positions the tip of his dick against his entrance and takes the chance to slowly push it in.

Hunter whines and inmediately clenches at the intrusion; breaking the kiss apart and panting heavily.

"I know it's difficult to take" the older man whispers, nipping at his ear. "Breathe, Hunter, let yourself ease into it".

It's harder to do than to say; but the Jedi waits for him, and Hunter slowly relaxes around him. The General groans, and mumbles a few words of praise; hips moving in tiny tiny thrusts in and out. Hunter moans, eyes squeezed shut, trying to get used to all of this new sensations. He's so big... Hunter knows his ass is gonna' hurt tomorrow; and yet he's aching to experience more of it.

"I-I'm okay" he whispers, skin flushed, voice raspy.

Baylan smiles.

"I'll take your word for it" he answers, and the he all but pounds into him.

His long thick cock hits something deep inside of him –must be his prostate, he vaguely has the mind to process– and Hunter screams. It's muffled, his teeth biting into his own wrist; but still audible enough for people to probably hear it.

The Jedi chuckles and digs his fingertips in the younger man's hips; taking advantage of the heightened level given by the backpack under his hips to force himself deeper into him. Hunter pants like a bitch in heat. O-oh, fuck. This is wonderfull. This is so good, so good...

"So good..." he continues to voice out loud, not even aware of himself at the moment.

Baylan groans and changes positions after a few minutes; laying on top of him like a warm, heavy blanket and snapping his hips powerfully into him. The young clone moans; tears dripping down his cheeks at the mix of wonderfull emotions brought by this novelty.

"Such a tight hole" The Jedi grunts, his cock impossibly big inside Hunter's ass. "So beautifully submissive..."

Hunter whimpers.

The General moves back to stand on his knees again; dragging his body upwards as well. Suddenly, Hunter finds himself on hands and knees; the man's cock never leaving his insides for a single second. Although it's impossible, Hunter feels like he's gonna carve his insides with it's shape.

"That's it" the man groans, hands flying up to tangle with the clone's hair once more. "Take it, good boy".

Baylan is now fucking him with both hands taking a firm hold of his hair; drilling his cock against Hunter's prostate without a care in the world, as if the smaller man were his personal sex doll. As if he were nothing but a mindless animal; and he's so fucking turned on by all of it.

"Yes, yes, yes, yes!" He cries, a tiny, sweet voice he had never heard himself use before. "Sir, please!"

The Jedi groans and forces Hunter's neck down; pushing his upper body against the rucksack while his ass is still stuck up for him to play with.

"Mm. Want my cum, soldier?" He asks, railing Hunter's ass. "I'm a bit undecissive as where to release it. Should I paint your skin with it? Or do you want to feel my warm seed dripping inside of you?"

Hunter understands know why exactly some woman he'd fucked had begged him to cum as deep as he could in their pussy. He wants to be marked by him. Want to be filled to the brim. He's aware he's still a man, but for some reason... He's desperate to be bred by him.

"Inside" he begs, he's so close himself, he can tell. "I-inside, G-general, please..."

Baylan has never quite fucked someone so beautiful.

"You're not going to waist any drop? If I push my cum into you, I don't want it to go to waste".

Hunter cries.

"Please" his voice breaks. He's gonna' cum. He's gonna' cum, he's gonna' cum, he's gonna' cum... "Please, Sir!"

The Jedi groans and fucks himself deep into the clone's tight ass once, twice, before he's exploding and marking his insides with his seed.

"Take it" he grunts, mercilessly railing Hunter's prostate as his cock throbs inside his tight chanel. "Every. Last. Drop. That's it. Good boy".

Hunter whines and cums. A rush of electric pleasure zaps inside of him; spreading from his prostate all the way down to the very tip of his toes. He cries, moans and whimpers; body trembling and asshole clenching on Baylan's spent cock, his warm seed pooling inside of him.

It's so good. So much pleasure. Such a relief...

Hunter sighs, slumps, and just a quiet minute later, falls asleep.

The older man chuckles, eyes flickering over the young clone's exhausted but pleased face; finally pulling out of him. He watches his cum attempting to drip out of him; and unable to help himself, pushes it back inside with his fingers. Hunter whimpers and squirms; but his eyes remained close, exhaustion too prevalent. They had been fighting a battle for a week, after all, and clones can't draw energy from the Force.

The Jedi caresses his hair fondly in a moment of weakness and moves to rest next to him.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The next morning, when the Batch is ready to make their way back to Corusscant in the Marauder to be redirected for another dangerous mission, Baylan offers his hand to the clone courteously.

"May the Force be with you, sargeant Hunter" and with a teasing smirk that brings a blush on the man's bronze skin adds. "It was a pleasure to have you".

THE END.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

PS. Can you tell I really ended up liking this pair? xD

[onlyactivewhenexhausted]

I want a 500 000 word longfic about DeadClaws. Trans ftm sub Logan with a daddy kink. Enemies to lovers. Bratty dom Wade. Lots of hate sex. All the hurt comfort. Found family.

Will I write this? Absolutely fucking not

[yamysunmoon]

The Anticipation

Pairing: agatha harkness x rio vidal

Summary: Rio crosses boundaries challenging Agatha's orders, and faces the consequences submitting to a punishment session.

Words count: 3-4k

Warnings: bdsm, specifically d/s dynamic, bondage and mouth mask. Mistress!Agatha, Sub!Rio, Brat!Rio. Oral sex, masturbation.

A/N: I was really looking forward to write agathario fanfics, this is the first but won't be the last. English is not my first language, sorry if there's any mistake.

Requests are open! if you have any suggestions feel free to share

creds to the best editor one could have, @milfsdoll (check out her work she's amazing)

Enjoy!

"Alright, so... We have to do the groceries, purchase clothes because I really need a new coat... Was there something else? There's something I'm missing... That's right, Jen! She texted me, the candle you were waiting for is done" Agatha took a glaze at her right. "Hun? Have you heard me?"

Rio was staring at her with a lost look and a sly smile. She bliked twice as she heard the nickname. "Yeah, okay", she babbled. "Can we stop at the mall the latest? If you don't mind" she suggested in a soft voice Agatha loved. The blue-eyed woman nodded in response and took a short glanze at her, again.

Rio loved mornings like this. At the car with Agatha, watching her drive with her right hand, her head resting on her left hand carefree. She looked so relaxed and had an unbelievable profile side. Rio was admiring her pretty big nose, her long lashes guarding those beautiful breathtaking blue eyes; and her full, soft lips; as the woman was mindlessly listing what they had to do.

"Yeah okay, I don't mind" Agatha said, totally overlooking Rio's intentions. The green witch had something in mind. She couldn't bare having her wife looking that good and not doing something about it.

Over the next half hour they had already done the groceries, put them in the car and were now on their way to Jen's. Rio said she wanted to walk, which surprised Agatha yet she agreed.

They were walking when they brushed hands. They both felt the familiar warmth in their chests, Rio grabbed Agatha's hand making her stop. They shared a gaze, it was clear what Rio wanted. Agatha looked both ways of the street before staring at her again. "Not here".

Rio was smiling softly. "Why not? Who cares, we are free now!"

Agatha smirked, she loved it when Rio celebrated they had overcome their first years of relationship, when they were forced to hide their love and Agatha would always be paranoid about her mother finding out.

Rio took a step closer to her. "We're free now" she repeated and squeezed her hand once. Agatha broke the distance between them giving her a soft kiss.

Rio attempted to deepen the kiss, but Agatha quickly pulled away, a cocky smile gracing her lips. "I said 'not here', doll" she warned her. Rio smiled back and nodded, obedient.

Later at Jen's store, Jen and Agatha were chatting and Rio was supposed to contribute to the conversation too, but she couldn't listen to a single word the women were saying. She just couldn't take her eyes off her wife.

The wide, tucked-in, slightly unbuttoned shirt that she was wearing was driving her insane, and her confident elegant presence and figure had Rio blown away.

"Rio, you haven't said a single word. Is the candle to your liking?" Jen tried to chat. She hummed in response and didn't even looked at her. Jen turned to Agatha. "Is she okay?"

Agatha gave Rio a quick glance. This time, she saw something in her eyes. "Yeah, she's fine". She was lying.

As they left, Rio seemed distracted and Agatha was already suspecting of her. "What was that?" she inquired.

Rio shrugged, pretending innocence. "It was nothing" she lied too. Agatha knew, so she let her be and the seed of expectation was planted.

Already in the mall, Rio started with her plan. She started giving Agatha careless caresses here and there, back and forth, each time she would pass by her looking for the perfect coat. She was subtle at first but Agatha soon discovered her intentions and deliberately ignored her.

Rio gradually lost delicacy and went from carelessly brushing to grabbing her arms as she passed behind her, squeezing twice, talking to her in a soft whisper, "is this what you want?" casually referring to a coat, apparently.

Agatha knew how to control her temper, but Rio was getting to her nerves. At some point, they were at a side of the store where no one was watching them and Rio hugged her from behind and rested her body on Agatha's, going full contact.

Agatha groaned. "Do you really want me to stop, sweetheart?" The green witch asked in a sweet, enchanting tone.

Agatha remained still. Rio lightened her grip and her wife walked away taking Rio's hand, driving her to the fitting rooms without saying a word.

She pushed Rio up against the wall as soon as the cortains were drawn. She grabbed her by her clothes and shortly lifted her off the ground. Agatha's pupils had dilated and were staring deep at Rio's eyes.

Rio was feeling her fists against her skin thriugh her clothes and sly smiled. She had won. She had her full attention now, and had defenitely turned her on.

Agatha slowly approached leaning for a kiss when Rio tilted her head to a side. She looked at Agatha sideways, who was giving her a gaze of disbelief.

They shared a glance, challenging eachother. Agatha lowered a hand to Rio's crotch, but she then pulled her legs together.

Agatha raised both eyebrows, her eyes widened. She took a step back and got her hands off her wife. She was offended. "Are you seriously turning me down right now? After provoking me the whole morning?"

Rio couldn't help but smile mischievously, crossing her arms and leaning against the wall in a cocky gesture. Agatha snorted, outraged.

"Oh, you're in trouble, bratty girl. You. Are. In trouble. We'll talk about this at home" she took a step to whisper, "upstairs".

She walked away before seeing Rio's expression, which was of pure excitement. This is exactly what she wanted from the start.

"Look what you've done. Now you're getting punished" she quietly whispered to herself.

"Can't wait".

Rio was surrounded by almost complete darkness. The only thing that enlightened the room was a squared shaped skylight.

She was in the playroom they had at the attic.

The skylight was pointing to the black king sized bed they had in the middle of the room. It poorly lit up some handcuffs hanging on the headbord and an eye mask. Surrounding the bed there were big closets that kept all kind of sex toys and sex torturing tools.

Rio didn't know what Agatha had planned for her, but she was dying to find out. She had dressed up for the occasion, she was wearing a vaporous green top tied to her back and back of her neck, and a simple yet effective black thong. She was barefoot, feeling the cold floor below her feet. Less means more when it comes to seduce Agatha, it's what she thought.

Rio took a step closer. She ran her fingertips through the satin sheets and closed her eyes as she felt the smooth fabric. She breathed in, the leather smell of the room filled her nostrils. Her whole body shivered with anticipation.

And she stood there, her back to the entrance door, her hands relaxed still in touch with the sheets, her head tilted up, to the skylight, her eyes closed. Breath in, breath out. She was waiting.

Agatha made her entrance a few minutes later. Rio felt the nervousness growing in her stomach. The sound of Agatha's heels was getting closer and closer. She finally closed the gap between them until she found herself right behind Rio. She ran her fingers along her spine.

"Do you know why you're here, brat?"

Agatha's voice was deep, serious and slightly raspy. Rio smiled and tilted her head towards her.

"Have I been bad, perhaps?"

Agatha's right hand was now running along her neck. She grabbed tight and Rio could feel her inditex and thumb on the sides of her neck. Her bodies were brushing.

"You haven't behaved like I needed you to. It's unacceptable".

She was looking at Rio's eyes with irritation and disapproval apparently, but deep down she enjoyed punishment sessions just as much as her brat did.

"I'm willing to pay for my actions, M'lady" she was using her brat voice again, she was mocking Agatha giving her a smirk.

Agatha squeezed harder. "Don't call me that now. I'm your Mistress". Rio gasped and her smile widened, looking psychotic.

"Whatever you say, Mistress".

Agatha nodded now satisfied. Rio looked down to her lips and was about to approach when Agatha stopped eye contact.

It was then when she showed what she was carring with her left hand. She positioned it in front of Rio's eyes, who looked ahead. Her eyes widened as she inmediately recognized the toy. She held her breath for a second feeling her core shrink.

"You were really disobedient before. It really annoyed me". Agatha's voice behind Rio was mesmerizing, and her right hand was now carrissing her chin. "Are you willing to put your voice and complete being at my service?"

Rio was staring at the mouth mask with determination. "I am, Mistress". Her voice shoke with pure excitment.

"Do you know what to do if you can't take it?"

Agatha needed to be sure about Rio's commitment and consent at all times. She wouldn't be able to speak up, so they had non verbal ways of communicating through the session. Rio sure remembered what she had to do, but she couldn't help but giggle, her brat nature overcoming her once again.

"You think I can't take a little ball in my mouth?"

Agatha looked at her from her left and made her tilt her head. "No more games, bratty. Stop it now". Oh, she was pissed.

Rio said no more. Her brat mode was on, she couldn't stop herself. She wanted to take her wife and Mistress to her fucking limit, so that she would take her to the limit. So she just stared at her and raised an eyebrow. She looked at her lips again, so soft and seductive.

Agatha then raised an eyebrow too and gave her a little smirk. Her eyes lit up with a sort of macabre vibe in them, and she stepped back leaving Rio eager.

She stood behind her again. She was running her fingertips all over her nude arms, shoulders and back, giving her goosebumps. Finally she tucked Rio's hair behind her shoulder so her face would be exposed. She took a glanze at her once again, "Open your mouth", she said, before placing the toy.

Rio instantly opened her mouth just wide enough so that the ball could be placed. She couldn't help to close her eyes in pure pleasure as she felt the object, its smoothness and slightly cold sensation.

Agatha took the belts and adjusted them on the back of her head. Rio felt them tighten around her head. The leather fabric was soft to the touch.

"Is it too tight?" The Mistress joyfully asked. Rio nodded, also playing. Agatha knew she was kidding, so she tied it tighter with a determined pull. Rio mouned in response.

Agatha stood again behind her and started running her fingertips, touching her arms, shoulders and hips. She removed the threads that kept Rio's top hanging and unraveled two more on her waist. The piece fell on the black sheets. Agatha heard Rio's gasp.

She countinued touching her very superficially, barely meeting her skin and defenitely not satisfying Rio's desperate need of contact. She was teasing Rio's body with her hands, challenging her, torturing her.

Rio knew she wasn't allowed to move. She was at Agatha's will now. She had to be patience and good so she would eventually give her what she wanted. That was what the whole show back in Jen's shop was about. She teased her earlier because she couldn't bare how much she needed her. So she claimed her attention until it was too much, until she was too bad and had to be punished. Now she'd have to be obedient and compliant. Agatha would reward her later.

At least that's what she was telling herself as Agatha's hands kept touching her in that breathtaking way. She thanked Gaia the ball of the mask had holes, and her heavy breathing invaded the whole room.

Agatha wanted to tease Rio as much as she could but her discipline was starting to fall apart. Rio was trying her best not to move but the goosebumps she was giving her were obvious.

She slowly approached until her lips met the back of Rio's neck. She kissed her skin chastely. Rio almost shook her head, but managed to stay still and instead just hummed.

"Very well" Agatha kissed her again in sign of approbal. "This is exactly how I want you, bratty. Just like this. So good" she kept talking in a calm voice as her kisses went down her spine.

She got on her knees meeting the last piece of fabric that kept Rio for being completely naked. She breathed in, breathing in her scent. She smiled again, she was crazy for that smell.

"Looks like you're ready for me, aren't you?", she looked up. Rio nodded fervently. The brunette was dying to touch Agatha, she sure was. Agatha knew that. That's why she loved how Rio's whole body trembled as she took the black thong' strings and pulled it down.

"Up" she whispered grabbing Rio's right leg. Rio raised it so Agatha could take the string. Did the same thing with the other side. Rio stood up firm again and Agatha took a minute to admire her.

"Oh, how good you look from down here" her voice was still whispers, she was amazed. Rio raised an eyebrow, pleased.

"Spread a little, my bratty" her tone became hardened but still in a whisper as she stood up to take something from a closet Rio couldn't see.

She obeyed, positioning herself as she knew Agatha wanted her to. When Agatha turned around and saw her, her jaw dropped for a moment. She stared at her from where she was, where Rio couldn't reach her, as she played with the toy between her hands.

"Lean on the bed" She bit her lip as Rio did exactly what she said. She could watch her like this all day, spread for her, resting her hands on the mastress, still stood up. Agatha was still playing with the toy, she turned it on. The sound of vibration instantly filled their ears.

Rio recognized that sound at once. She sighed and let out a desperate groan. Agatha's deep laugh was what she recieved for response at first. Then, she reached Rio and stood behind her again and made her wait a little longer before the clit-sucker entered in contact with her body. She first positioned it at her left thigh, so close to her vulva. She moved it around that zone, same thing on her right thigh.

Rio was doing an incredible job holding back. She craved that vibrations just some inches further up, and a little move would place the toy just where she needed it, but she knew that would be silly. She had to wait. Just a little longer...

Agatha knew her lover's body as if it was hers -though it kinda was hers-, she felt her desperation, but she wanted to test her. How much could she take?

This is what she was referring to when she asked earlier. It wasn't physical resistance what intrigued her. She wanted to make Rio go insane, because that's what she deserved for being such a fucking brat.

"This is what you've earned", she kept moving the object impossibly near to where it was needed, yet not reaching that point. "This is what you gain when you disobey my orders, bratty".

Rio would've talked if she could. She knew how to win her with words, she always managed to find a way out. She knew how to seduced her.

But Agatha sure knew how to play that game to.

The Mistress kept teasing her for fifteen torturing minutes. She was dragging the toy from her pubis to her groins, never sucking what it should.

It was in such an intense mood that was actually stimulating Rio's clitoris down her lips, but it still wasn't enough for her. Both could feel Rio's wetness making the toy slip more than once, touching her folds for a second, causing her to tremble and groan.

Agatha could feel Rio's wetness all over the place, soaking her fingers when she slightly touched the zone everytime she moved the toy back and forth. When the toy slipped, she showed no mercy and pushed it away each and every time.

Although it was incredibly difficult to hold on, Rio had enough control on herself to stay still. She had to grab the sheets, groan and heavily breath the whole time - teasing Agatha without realizing-, but managed to keep still.

At some point she started feeling numb, losing her senses. She needed to be released so bad her arms ached and trembled, she was so needy and desperate she started to moan in a different way. Agatha recognized that specific moan. Rio was begging.

Heavily breathing, Rio tried to vocalize her need eventhough she knew she probably wasn't allowed to. She didn't care at this point, she needed to be fucked.

Indeed, Agatha could not understand her but she had a vague idea. She let out a maquiavelic, light cackle.

"Alright beauty, are you gonna behave now?" she finally asked.

Rio nodded eagerly and hummed, and tried to look at her, but couldn't tilt her head just enough. That made her feel even more needy.

"Aw, breaks my heart to see you like this" she mocked her with a touch of pitty in her tone. "You really can't take this any longer, can you?" She turned the clit-sucker off.

Rio furrowed her eyebrows and felt angry and arrogant for a moment, but horniness quickly won the war. Agatha had got closer now so Rio could communicate with her. Still with her eyebrows frown, Rio reached Agatha's arm and squeezed twice.

Agatha smirked and returned the squeeze. "I love it when you give in like this, beauty". Rio snorted in response, making Agatha laugh as she positioned behind her again turning the toy on. "Come on, you love it", she paused, "the anticipation".

Rio heavily breathed in. She was feeling numb again, it was as if Agatha had put a spell on her. It wouldn't be a surprise, tho. She nodded gently, docile.

Agatha was finally pleased. She was very excited too at that point, and couldn't extend this very longer eather. She explored Rio's mound one more time before finally introducing it between her folds.

Rio let out a loud groan as she finally felt the damned toy sucking what it should. "Ough, it was fucking time already" is what she was trying to say with that mask on her mouth preventing her from doing so.

Agatha was holding her by the right hip. She gave her a warning grab. She moved the clit sucker a few milimeters away as Rio whined again. "Don't be a whiny and get on the bed".

Rio crawled to the middle of the bed and stayed in that position, her legs spread and her back curved. Agatha stood on her knees right behind her and started properly masturbating her at last.

Rio groaned, head back and eyes closed. Agatha's right hand positioned on Rio's right hip moved in a way that Rio knew very well. She was letting her swing.

Rio grabbed the sheets and started bouncing her hips against the clit sucker in a profound, firm way. She rested her forehead on the mastress and made her ass go up as her back bend.

Agatha gasped, she started breathing heavinily and she pleased her wife, her bratty beautiful woman, as she watched her get absolutely lost on her pleasure.

The bratty woman started fucking the toy in such a violent, thirsty way. Agatha was playing with the sensations moving it at her will, making it stimulate this or that zone of Rio's vulva, going from her major labia to her clit, to her entrance, spreading her wetness everwhere, enjoying Rio's gasps with every move.

Rio followed Agatha's hand at all times and her hips followed her Mistress rythm. She felt sweat trickling down her thighs, she felt Agatha licking her back. She felt her hands stiffened from gripping the sheets so tightly. And she obviously felt the tension building in her lower stomach and in her cunt. She tried to pull it back again and again, and Agatha smirked at the vision of Rio's way of torturing herself, without her intromision.

She squeezed her hips lovingly, ready to be there for her. "You can cum now, bratty", she said.

Rio didn't thought it twice, she actually wasn't thinking at all. She crumbled down on Agatha's hand, sinking so deep in her yearned enjoyment, feeling those vibrations deep inside her, making her tremble and shake and shudder so hard she couldn't hold her orgasm anymore.

She released a loud, high-pitched moan as she held it, Agatha moving the toy up and down just the right way to extend it as long as possible.

Agatha knew exactly when to put it away, just when Rio was feeling overstimulated. When Rio was finally free, she let herself fall on the mastress, face down, gasping.

Agatha laid next to her and held her whispering praises. She untied the mask and stroke her hair lovingly. She started breathing deep and camly so Rio would copy her, which she did eventually.

Rio moved away a few minutes later, lying face up. Agatha was watching her every moves, resting her elbow on the pillow. Their gazes met, they laughed for a moment. Their laughter faded, Agatha was about to kiss her but Rio talked, with determination.

"I'm ready".

Agatha rewarded her with the sexiest smile before pulling her closer into a deep meaningful kiss. Rio was cought by surprise but instinctively gave in. Agatha grabbed her by the armpits and lifted her up, leaving her leaning against the headboard of the bed. Rio let out a gasp as her head hit the wood.

"What are you going to do to me?" She asked joyfully.

"Nothing you don't desire", was all she said before kissing her passionately.

Rio was barely putting her hands on her when Agatha stopped the kiss to grab the handcuffs hanging above them.

"Ough, Mistress,..." She was about to complain but Agatha glared at her with a warning expression in her eyes. Rio gulped and said no more.

Agatha cuffed her to the bed within seconds. She took advantage of the positions they were in to look at her clothes for the first time. Agatha was wearing a tight deep purple and black corset that lifted her chest and lace black panties. Her High heeled boots went almost to her knees, and these were also black, made of latex.

Rio started feeling distressed as she found herself deprived of moving again. Agatha was on her knees in front of Rio, cupping her beautiful face with one hand. Rio looked at her eagerly.

"I beg of you, Agatha. Mistress... My mistress, please, let me touch you" her glanze went down to her body. She was starving.

As Agatha's panties were black, Rio couldn't tell but she was soaked wet. She knew exactly what she was gonna do to her. She got up on the bed and, leaning against the headboard of the bed with one hand, she lifted one leg and slowly stuck the needle of her boot between Rio's boobs.

"Oh, and i'm letting you, my dear. I'm gonna let you touch me, for sure. Don't you think it's time for you to please your Mistress?"

Rio felt the needle pressuring against her skin. That kind of pain was tickling. Her jaw dropped. "Fuck yeah" she concured, her eyes wide open. Agatha chuckle, arrongantly. She pulled away the boot and started taking off her clothes.

She got undressed with Rio's gaze all over her, greedy. She had the idea of doing it slowly, but after watching Rio cum the way she did, and look at her like that now, she was done playing games. So she took it all off and sat on Rio's lap.

Rio went for her tits without hesitation and let out a moan as soon as the pink hard left nipple brushed her lips. Agatha grabbed Rio's hair and moved it at her will, making her kiss, lick and suck wherever she wanted her to.

She bounced towards her bratty letting her instincts take control. Rio also moved her body towards Agatha, groaning as her hands couldn't reach her beloved.

Agatha kept Rio stimulating her for some minutes, and she would've loved to stay like that for a while, but her body had other plans. The pressure building in her lower stomach was persistent.

"Fuck, I need to sit on your face" she said standing up.

"Do so, then" it's all Rio could say before reciving Agatha's cunt right on her mouth.

She started sucking and licking as if her life depended on it and Agatha rode her without an ounce of mercy. She was bouncing so hard she had to hold on to the headboard of the bed. Taking advantage of her position, she uncaffed Rio with a simple gesture of her hands. Rio was quick to react and grabbed Agatha's ass, pulling her even closer.

Agatha fucked Rio's face for a delightful time. Everytime she was feeling the orgasm reaching her, she slowed her movements. Rio also licked lightly everytime that happened. Then, as she felt more in control, Agatha would speed up again, making herself and Rio go crazy.

They both had a great time playing with Agatha's body that way, to a point in which she wasn't able to contain the pleasure any longer.

She let out a freed loud moan as her cum soaked Rio's lips and chin. Rio still sucked for a little while, while Agatha rode her gently a little longer.

"Fuck, sometimes I don't know when to stop" she admitted in a sigh, getting off her, she sat on Rio's lap. They looked at eachother's eyes.

"I can't get enough of you, M'Lady" Rio said, fearless. Agatha was already gasping and her beloved still wanted to leave her speechless.

"I love you", those were three words she always managed to say, tho. They relied on eachother's foreheads and their noses brushed.

"I fucking love you too, Agatha".

[fic--writer]

Lollipop

Rolan is too addicted on his magic lollipops. Tav decides to take a risk and exploit this.

Warnings: NSFW! Addicted, Dominance and Submission, Smut.

Additional: a must read if you like tormenting the Archmage as much as I do. Generally the D/S genre isn't my thing, but I had a f*cking dream about this idea. I woke up laughing and couldn't help but write this. Enjoy.

Part 1/3 Part 2/3 Part 3/3 soon

Rolan took the opaque jar. When he didn't hear the familiar rustle of sweets inside, he didn't immediately believe what was happening. He shook the jar properly, then harder, but only a deafening silence echoed back, increasing his alarm.

In his haste he tore off the lid with his claws and tossed it aside. Yes, he was right - the jar was empty. Although he definitely remembered that there was still one more lollipop left there. His favourite, the magic lolly. The one he always enjoyed when work got hard.

Everyone in the tower knew very well that taking the Archmage's sweets, especially without permission, was not only dangerous to one's health, but also to one's life. Everyone in the tower remembered what had happened to the unfortunate elf who had made that mistake.

Everyone knew about it. And yet someone had the nerve to steal his lolly. The last one! Well, who would dare to do such audacity?! Only one creature in the whole damn tower could have the audacity to do such a thing. Only one:

“Taaaaaav!!!”

Rolan screamed at the top of his lungs. His howl shook every wall in the building. He knew that there was no need for an investigation or a detective here. He knew that for sure. Only she was the one who kept looking at his satisfied face when he hid a lolly bar behind his cheek. Besides, Tav was a real rogue - mischievous and unceremonious. She had no sense of propriety or manners. Why would a thief need them? And why had he invited her to work with him...

The Archmage's blood boiled and he sprinted. He ran like a young trotter, sweeping everything in his path with his tail. He looked into every room in search of Tav, and woe betide anyone who got in his way. Rolan pushed, shoved and knocked down every unfortunate creature.

He found her in a small pantry. Tav was standing with his back to him, rearrange, or rather pretending to rearrange, at a supply of parchment on one of the shelves.

"Tav! Look at me" - the Archmage shouted, unable to contain his anger.

She turned slowly, and Rolan's world shrank to a single point. His suspicions were justified. Tav looked him straight in the eye and he heard a crackling sound from her mouth. It was the sound of the lollipop rolling from side to side as it hit her teeth. The lollipop was missing the wand that had penetrated it, Tav had probably just disposed of it ruthlessly.

But what happened next didn't just send Rolan into a violent insanity; this caused a storm of rage in him, comparable, perhaps, to the most destructive power of a volcano.

Tav stuck out her tongue, a red lolly glittering at the tip:

"Have you lost this?" - she said with the intonation of a daring little devil.

"Lost it? You stole it from me! You sneaky bitch, I gave you shelter, I gave you a job..." - Rolan spat out each word as he approached her and rolled up his sleeves.

"Wow, and I saved your red arse from impending doom, or have you forgotten? Choose your expressions."

"You know you're being extremely unwise, don't you? Oh, you probably know that."

He moved close to Tav and grabbed her cheeks, squeezing them with his claws:

"Spit it out now. Be an obedient dog. Return the stolen and maybe you'll stay in one piece."

Why, you may ask, was the Archimage so concerned about a some lollipops? Because they were not ordinary sweets, but magical ones. And only one merchant, almost from the Far Far Away Realm, agreed to supply them to Baldur's Gate from time to time.

Rolan first discovered them in one of the Tower's warehouses, and immediately tried them. The magic of these lollipops was that they could adapt to the needs and moods of the consumer. Perhaps it was a trait of the Tieflings or something else, but Rolan was instantly addicted to them. And now he was paying the price of sixteen rare old folios for one of these little jars. But that did not bother him. The effect they had on him - the ultimate pleasure and explosion of endorphins - was worth every gold, he thought.

"No, that won't do" - Tav muttered, her lips pressed together, "let's play a game and then we'll see."

"Excuse me? How about I hit you with a thunderwave, right here, and just take what's mine?" - Rolan shook her harder and harder, - "Hey! Don't you dare swallow that!"

"Oh no, the The Archmage will not do that. You'd kill or maim me for some stupid candy? Me, the saviour of Baldur's Gate and legend of the Sword Coast? Ha-ha! No, you would never do that, Rolan. Would you? You care so much about your... reputation." - She laughed gruntingly and slapped his hands, struggling.

"I don't care about reputation when it comes to..."

"It comes to what? To your little secret? To your addiction? You know nothing escapes my hawkish gaze."

"Zurgan! When it comes to property rights and basic rules of decency. Civility! Have you heard of it?" - The Archmage's nostrils flared as he jabbed at her with the index finger of his right hand, the other still shake her.

"So remind me, what was it about the rule that made you master of this Ramazite tower?"

Rolan released her abruptly and tapped his horns with claws, a thud sounded. It was the same sound of fingers tapping on a table as they pondered. Sometimes she was unbearable.

He was certain that she had Trickster blood in her veins. One of her distant ancestors had undoubtedly been something more than a mediocre rogue. How else to explain her complete disregard for any rules of conduct in the pursuit of mischief? She manipulated him, she blackmailed him, she used every means of influence at her disposal. Not for nothing had she reminded him that she had saved him and that he had the Tower because of her. Of course, he still had respect for Tav, despite her obnoxious behaviour and endless pressure.

No wonder she had become so close to Astarion in her time. With that amoral vampire with no vector of direction...

"What do you want from me, Tav? What is it this time?" - Rolan pulled himself together as best he could and tried to concentrate, suppressing the urges of his nature. As much as he wanted to outwit she, he knew he would lose this battle. And then he would have nothing to gain.

"Good decision, you see, sometimes you are capable of constructive dialogue after all. Like I said, I want to play a game with you," - Tav straightened and shook himself off.

"Pfft, childish. What shall i do, solve riddles?"

"No, that would be too easy for a prodigy like you. I will ask you to perform actions of a ... various nature. And you'll be an obedient boy. If I see you trying, I'll reward you. And if not, you know, it's not infinite..." - Tav began to suck the lollipop more intensely, clearly demonstrating what would happen.

"Of various nature?" - the Archmage's face crumpled as he imagined the shameful scenes, and the lines on the bridge of his nose became clearly visible. - "Tav, are you sure the worm hasn't damaged your brain? Because..."

"Hey. Hush you, we're playing this game by my rules. Risk insulting me again and you'll end up with a nothing. And if you want the prize, you pay."

"Okay! Come on, speak up faster!" - It was becoming unbearable for him to be around the 'treat' that was so close, but not his. It was like an itch, painfully tickling his insides.

"Good boy! But why aren't you talking to me on your knees? Correct yourself and apologize for all the nasty things you said to me." - the smirk never left Tav's face as she gave the first command.

What an impertinent creature, Rolan thought, but reluctantly knelt before her:

"I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry? Wow, look at that, the proud mage apologising for the first time. It's not bad. But I respect the spectacularity. Is that any way to apologise to a lady?" - She held out her hand and brought it to his lips.

"Forgive me, Tav, for all I have said to you today." - The Archmage took her hand and kissed it.

"You apologise, but only for today? What happened to the prodigy's memory? And speak to me with respect! I'm your Mistress, not Tav!" - she was definitely getting turned on by this game, she was getting into character and had no intention of stopping.

Rolan glared at her angrily, but obeyed:

"Will my Mistress be so kind as to forgive me for all the unjust words I have spoken to her?" - he kissed her palm once more and gently tapped it against his forehead.

"That's better. Now it's time to show you what happens to obedient toys," - Tav licked her finger sensuously and leisurely and brought it up to the Archmage's face.

Rolan smelled the saliva soaked in the flavour of the magic lolly and was immediately disturbed. He shoved all his ego up his red arse and grabbed her finger in a frenzy, shoving it all the way into his mouth and sucking and swallowing it deliciously, trying not to hurt it with his tiefling fangs.

"Um, I didn't know how much you needed that. Hey, hey, take it easy! If you bite my finger off, the deal's off. Don't be so greedy, remember!"

Rolan licked and smacked for another half minute, forgetting any squeamishness as she tore her finger from him.

"Aren't you forgetting something, kitten? Courtesy? Civility?" - Tav clarified ironically.

"Thank you, my generous Mistress" - he murmured.

Rolan appreciated the treat he was being offered, he saw that cooperation paid off and he was not so intransigent anymore. Of course, Tav took this into account immediately. She realised that she could now manipulate him like her obedient puppet.

^Pardon my punctuation skills. I still suck at it.

[georgiapeach30513]

Your Mark On Me, Part 3

Summary: you keep pushing his buttons...

Pairings: Steve Rogers X Reader

Rating: explicit

Warnings:  explicit language, explicit sexual content, degradation, dirty talk, non con/dub con, spanking, inspecting, spitting, fingering, squirting, oral sex (F receiving), skinny dipping, pussy job, just the tip, a bit of cream pie, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 7.1K

Previous

Series Masterlist

*Tattooed Steve edit by @randomagnes0210

*Dividers created by @firefly-graphics

You take a long look out the window, your eyes casting around in every direction until you see him. Bucky gives you a cheeky grin, holding up his hand, and you back away from the window, hiding yourself. Annoyed at not even being able to walk around in your panties in your apartment if you wanted to. He was always going to tell Steve. You couldn’t escape him. And staying cooped up in your apartment was thoroughly starting to piss you off.

It was supposed to be your break in between semesters, and you should be having fun. But no. Instead your every move is followed. You have a feeling Bucky even writes down what you do with time stamps just to let Steve know. He was there when you wake up, there when you leave your apartment, and even there when you go to sleep.

Did he sleep? Was he going to go crazy with a lack of sleep? You pace around the apartment, tempted to open your curtain, and put on a show for Bucky, just to piss Steve off. It’s what he deserved after he did what he did.

When he did what he did…

You hadn’t stopped thinking about that night. The moment when you had forgotten about everything around you, and just let him take you to a different world. A world of blinding pleasure. You had forgotten your name. There has been a numbness in you since that night. And you wanted him to help you live again, and also feared the things he was making you feel.

You ignored the frequent text messages from Steve. At night the messages got filthier, and you wanted to scream in your pillow. While his face was buried between your thighs, and he was doing whatever he did with his tongue, and even his teeth.

“No!” You scream out loud as your hands start to shake. What was wrong with you? Why was you letting this man lead you to temptation and right to a shortcut to hell?

You wanted him. You feared him. You hated him. You need him to…to do something. You didn’t want to say it, and couldn’t say it. This was new. All of it was new, and you didn’t understand Steve’s strong obsession with you. You! You? What was so special about you? Why did he want you? What was his end goal? Was it only to fuck you and then leave?

Taking another look out the window just to find Bucky in the same spot, sucking on a cigarette. He would know, Bucky knew everything. Putting on some coffee you leave your apartment, and walk out to Bucky, who stands up straight immediately. Hand at the phone in his pocket while he looks at you questioningly.

“Don’t call him,” Bucky struggles with your request. You were not where you were supposed to be. You hadn’t even left this town, and ventured back home. “Have some coffee with me. I feel bad that you’re out here all alone, all day and all night. It isn’t fair.”

“I have my orders,” his hand still taps along his pocket, and the last thing you want is for him to call Steve. You couldn’t handle Steve being in your home, and your place of peace.

“Some coffee would be good for you, come on,” you go to reach for his hand, but he stands up completely straight, and his eyes fix behind you. “I’m sorry.”

“Dove, you should know by now not to touch me; ever. Especially without him present. I’m running out of lives, and I don’t want to die today,” you give a little bite to your lip, your feet shuffling around nervously, wondering if you had pushed too far. You weren’t an idiot, even if you wanted to play as such.

Bucky wants to roll his eyes at just how perfect you are for Steve. How you had enough fight in you to keep things interesting, but also his undying love for innocence. For the chase, and you were running; sprinting away from him even if your body was yelling for him to come back. You just weren't so fast enough that Steve couldn’t catch you. “Fine. Coffee, but you deal with the consequences.”

“Consequences? For having coffee?” Oh you did love to play this silly little girl game. Judging by the swishing around of your thighs, you knew exactly what the consequences would be.

He leans close enough into you, whispering just slightly off from your ear, “Don’t play dumb, little bird,” before heading straight towards your building. “So?” He pauses, turning to look at you when you don’t move. “Are we having coffee?”

“Yes,” you answer with such certainty that it scares you.

“I see why he likes her,” Bucky mumbles, waiting for you to take the lead. He didn’t have to contact Steve. Steve would look down at his phone, and see that Bucky was in your apartment. Would see Bucky in your space, but with you. Alone. He could already feel Steve’s anger prickling on his skin once he realized where he was, and just who he was with. You were just dangerous enough to yourself, but also for Steve.

“So…what’s yours and Steve’s story?” You pour him his coffee, sitting at the bar, and push out a chair for him. He doesn’t take the chair, but instead lifts himself up on the counter. “You and him seem to go back further than him and Sam.”

“Steve trusts very few people. Sam and I are two of them. But you are correct in thinking that Steve and I have known each other longer. Sam has been more than loyal to the both of us,” your head tilts to the side, listening to Bucky. It was almost normal. Steve was anything but safe though. However, he had people that believed in something. Believed in him and whatever empire he was building.

“Why drugs?”

“Don’t worry about it,” he gives you a wink. Lifting his arm up to look at his watch with a smirk. “Why were you buying?”

“You know why. I needed to stay up to cram for finals. Math isn’t exactly my strong suit,” he cocks a brow up, while he drinks his coffee, and you almost feel guilty for staring at him. It was silly because you weren’t with Steve. You could look at whoever you pleased.

“Have you ever tried any other drugs?” Shaking your head rapidly, you cast your eyes to anything in the kitchen. Making silly notes about what you needed to do to keep it clean. Wondering where the cameras were in here. “Was that your first time?”

“Yes. I’ve always just taken my medication as it’s prescribed.”

“Ever been drunk?” You had piqued his interest. Bucky was just wasting time because Steve was already enroute, and he was about to be yelled at, but you were getting far more than screams. “Hmm?”

“No,” your voice whispers, and you dare to look back up at him. “I just recently became of age.”

“Wait…you’ve never had anything to drink?” You shake your head no. There couldn't’ be that much that you had missed from getting drunk. Alcohol stunk, and it was illegal for you to have consumed before now. “Wow, you really are…”

You jump off the stool, your mug shattering on the tile as Steve bursts through the door. His nostrils flaring, and his skin looked like it was on fire with the way his muscles are tensing up. Backing up from him with every step he takes closer to you.

Taking his eyes off you only to glare at Bucky, “I’ll deal with you later. Dovey,” he tsks, turning to look at you. He is too calm with his words, but the way he slung that door open, he was anything but calm. He was pissed off at you.

“You’ve been a bad bad girl,” you can only squeak, as you look around the apartment. “We both know there's no hiding places in here. I’ve looked at the blueprints, little bird. Where are you gonna run to?”

“Steve, don’t,” you gulp, flinching away as he tries to grab you.

“Do you remember what I told you about your tears?” You shake your head no. You couldn’t think. There is a searing light in your eyes and loud ringing in your ears that was keeping you from thinking straight. He had mentioned something about tears, but exactly what you can’t recall.

“When you cry all I can think about is splitting you open for the first time. It will hurt, Dovey. You will cry, and I will lick the tears off your cheeks, as I wait for that tight little cunt to stop screaming from the stretch.’

“Steve, please,” you tremble, but he moans in return. He mistook your pleads as begging. “I’m not begging!”

“And I’m not asking,” you scream as you dart past him, but his inky hand grabs onto your wrist, pulling you into his hard chest, and nearly knocking the breath out of you. Covering your wails with his hand as he hauls you over to the couch.

Letting himself sit down before he lays your belly over his lap. “I am thankful that you wear skirts,” hearing the malice in his voice only makes your entire body shiver with anticipation of what is coming next. “Bucky, close the door, while I have a chat with my little bird.”

“Steve, I’m sorry,” you hiccup. Wiggling around, you try to get off his lap, but it wasn’t helping. “I don’t know what I did…Bucky?”

“Don’t call for him. He protects you when I’m not around, he doesn’t protect you from me. Did he or did he not say you would have consequences for being alone with him?” You whimper as you nod your head, and you get a swift smack on your ass. “Words, Dove.”

“Yes, sir,” tears start flowing down your face, and it just angers you. This stupid man that rushed into your life has you draped over his lap like a toddler, and was intent in spanking you.

“And not only did you bring him in here with you alone, you then had the audacity to talk about me, hmm?” You don’t answer fast enough, and he smacks you again, but this time on the other cheek. Flattening his hand out, he rubs over the stinging skin.

“I didn’t…I-I-I didn’t know.”

“If you want to know anything about me, then you better fucking ask me. That sneaky bullshit will not fly with me. Do you understand?” Another smack on your ass with an even more soothing rub this time. “Can you fucking hear?” One more slap.

“Yes, sir. I under…understand. No!” He places his elbow on your back as he lifts up your skirt. Chuckling when each hand pulls apart your cheeks. “Steve, stop! Don’t look! Don’t!”

“Why not, Dovey?” He moans, leaning down closer he inhales deeply. What you assume was a pinky finger flicks up and down your cotton covered slit. “Your cunt is crying for me. Just as hard as those pathetic tears rolling down your cheeks. You know why we work, Dovey? I enjoy this just as much as you do.”

“I don’t,” he has your panties pulled down in one second. Each hand stretching your cheeks wide as he gazes at your virgin hole. Everything is too quiet as he stares at you in the most vulnerable state you have ever been in. Sure that Bucky was watching your core as hard as Steve.

Seconds go by that feels like hours. And then a drip of Steve’s saliva flows through your lips. “You’re a fucking liar,” his voice cutting deep inside of you. “Why are you lying? That tight light hole is clenching, Dove. She wants a big cock to fuck her so hard and deep, huh? Hehe,” he looks up at Bucky, pulling you even further apart.

“See, Buck. She’s throbbing just thinking about me fucking her. Look,” Bucky has been a target of Steve’s anger many times. And there was no right answer here. Steve would be offended if he didn’t look. “Dove, I’m going to fuck you so deep you feel me in your belly.”

“Oh,” Bucky tries to sound interested as your walls flutter around nothing. Searching for something to squeeze tightly. Pulsing in vain. But something more catches his eyes, “How are you going to fit in there?”

“Oh, I’ll make it fit,” he spits down to your center again as two fingers roam through your slick. Coating themselves in your juices, and you clench your eyes close. Biting on your lip as he plunges two thick fingers into your warmth, and you lift your head up sobbing his name.

“That’s just two fingers, pretty girl,” pumping his fingers in and out of you he moans at the sound of your wetness. Lewd squelching sounds scream into the quiet apartment. “See how easy I fit in there when you have a sloppy cunt like this? It’s because I am made for you, and this is my pussy. I wish you could see your pussy cling onto my fingers. She doesn't’ want to let me go. She is weeping out onto your legs just thinking about me, Dovey.”

He speeds up his motions, curling his fingers and he hits a spot inside of you that makes orbs of fuzzy light pop up in your vision. Sounds you have never heard before leak out of your mouth, and your body chases his fingers. Reacting and needing him to stay deep inside of you. And you seek out him to constantly fill you whole.

Hugging his digits so tightly that you can’t help but to pant out his name, “I know, baby. It’s what you’ve needed. You needed to be punished for acting like a sneaky bitch. But it gets you so worked up. Your body craves this attention. Has been begging for this, huh? You like this, Dovey?”

My god, you loved it. Thoughts just didn’t even register because of the paralyzing pleasure. You just take it. Take every bit of his fingers. Eyes rolling in the back of your head as he scissors himself deep inside of you. Pressing a thumb on your clit, and you speak in tongue.

Euphoria you have never felt. Your cum coats his fingers, but it only eggs him on. Going harder into you. The only thing for you to hold is his leg, and you dig your fingers into him. He hisses as he pounds into you. Not stopping until you're screaming his name, and you squirt out your release. And Steve moans, delighted at how messy you are.

“Good fucking girl!” Jerking his fingers out, he grabs you at the hips. Lifting your bottom up to him, and he buries himself between your thighs. Laving and slurping up every bit of your release. Moaning at your tastes as he sucks every bit of it up.

Your eyes roll into the back of your head, but as soon as it starts, he stops. Steve pulls apart your body, and stares at the tiny gape of your hole. You could take so much more, and he was tempted to add a third finger next time. But he wanted more than anything for you to cry when he bottoms out into you. Addicted to something he hadn’t properly got to experience. And that was all of you.

His sight never leaves your cunt as he tells Bucky to pack you a bag because the two of you were going on a short little trip. Bucky nods, knowing exactly where Steve was going to take you. He whispers a prayer for you. If Steve had it his way he was going to fuck this ‘brat’ right out of you.

Bucky wouldn’t call you a brat, but you knew what you were doing. Driving Steve crazy enough to both pleasure and humiliate you. One day you would learn, you didn’t have to push his buttons to get him to play with you. You had this power over Steve that neither of you understood. And Bucky had never witnessed anything quite like this.

“Dovey, if I hear you talk back to me once on this drive, you’re going to ride the rest of the way with two of my fingers in your cunt, and both your titties hanging out of your shirt. Please tell me that you understand.”

His hold loosens on you, and he gives you a moment to sit up. Waiting on you to roll your drenched panties back up your body, and you nod. You couldn’t look at him because he had seen such a private part of you, and showed Bucky, “Yes, sir.”

“Good, girl. You’re learning. Seems like you’re starting to break. Buck, you make sure Sam understands that the two of you are in charge,” Steve holds out his hand as he stands up. Waiting on you to take hold before he leads the two of you to the door.

“Steve, take it easy on her. She’s not ready,” he whispers to his friend, but Steve returns his warning with a smile. He was going to do whatever the fuck he wanted with you. You wanted to know about him, so he was going to give you the opportunity to ask. If you could focus. He’d tell you everything you need to know. He just hopes it’s the right questions.

“Steve, I don’t want to be here,” your lip trembles as he steps out of the car. Stalking over to your side while you stare at only one thing. One cabin. In the middle of fucking nowhere. It had been miles since you even saw the las

“Steve, no!” Screaming as he opens your door. There isn’t any flight left in you. It is just complete shutting down. He holds out his hand for you to take, but you violently shake. He was going to murder you here. “Steve, don’t. Don’t!”

He gives a growl as his hands try to wrangle you out of the vehicle, and you thrash around. If you were going to die, at least you’d die trying. “Please, just…”

“You wanted to ask questions, now get out of the fucking car!” Pulling you a bit harder, you let your body turn to dead weight, and you drop to the ground with a hard thud. Blinking your eyes and coughing as you try to catch your breath.

“Would you shut up?” His voice rattles, hauling you up over his shoulder. “What exactly do you think I’m going to do to you? We’re going in the fucking cabin, and you’re going to ask your stupid damn questions.”

“B-b-b-but we’re alone! You’re going to…” dropping you onto the couch, his body hovers over you. Those blackened with ink arms caging you. He rolls his hips, and his hardening cock skims over your core, and you squeal.

“You like that, huh? You like feeling me on you?” His breath is hot on your skin as he does it again. “We’re all alone, Dovey, and no one can hear your screams when you take every inch of me.”

“I’m not b-b-begging.”

“Aw, but aren’t you?” Readjusting himself, his hand cups your covered core. The face of pure sadistic torture grins down at you. “You’re so hot and wound up you’re going to burn the cabin down, Dovey. You’ve ruined these panties, you're so wet. Quit letting your mind take control, and trust me.”

“I’ll never trust you,” it is something you felt deep within your soul. How could you trust someone that was like him? Someone that got off on your embarrassment, and enjoyed showing it to everyone. “You just want to use me.”

A flash of tattoos comes at your face, and his fingers dig into your cheeks as he grabs you tight. Forcing you to quit looking around, and look straight at him. “Dovey, if I wanted to use you, I would have had you that first night. I did you a kindness in marking you up. People know not to fuck with Steve Rogers. You’re just the stupid girl who came into my lair thinking you would outsmart me. Do you realize how many times I could have fucked you by now? I could have put the cameras on us, and let the club watch as I took the gift that could never be returned. And you’re the brat that wants to keep pushing my fucking buttons.”

You whimper as his weight starts to settle on your body. His monstrosity of a cock pressing into your center, and a flash of blinding light covers your vision, and all you can do is feel. Feel his pulse through his cock as it pounds right at your entrance, and the way his breath blows out over your face as he chuckles. You hate him.

“Sweetheart, it would loosen you up in more ways than one. You need this as much as I do. You’re denying us the ultimate pleasure when all you have to do is let me squeeze through your walls, break them down, too.”

Gulping, you keep perfect eye contact as your head twists back and forth, whispering out, “No.”

A rumble climbs up his chest, and the vibrations go right to your weeping cunt as he sits up. Putting his weight on his heels, and kneeling before you. His body keeps your legs wide, and he pulls up your skirt, watching your covered pussy as he pulls his shirt off.

He is a god amongst men. Rippling cords of muscle stretch over his chest, and it was accentuated perfectly with the most beautiful and intricate designs. The man clearly enjoyed art, but also pain. No inch of his chest wasn’t touched with a needle.

While you’re in a trance with his tattoos, Steve undoes his pants, and gives them a little tug down. “Oh my god!” You screech as his monster dick flops out of his pants. The only thing not covered in tattoos, and right at the tip. “You’re pierced?”

“If it scares you that much, our first time, I’ll take it out. It’s quite pleasurable for you,” Steve wraps his fist around the base, and gives the growing member a few pumps, “You can’t take your eyes off it. Have you ever seen a dick before?”

“Yeah. Plenty of times.”

“Tell me whose dick you’ve seen, little bird.”

“Why?” You look up at him, unblinking. There is a fire that is burning all the way from the pit of his stomach to his eyes. Looking almost demonic as his pupils spread out so wide.

“So I can kill them. No dick that has touched your body is going to stay alive,” he tilts his head to the side, smiling when you finally look up at his face. “I am very serious, sweetheart. Tell me. Their names.”

“I don’t know — I don't know their names,” he tenses in front of you, and you cover your eyes. “They were on the internet,” the walls of the cabin rattle with his booming laughter. While you’re trying to melt away, he runs the tip of his length over your panties, and you flinch. Trying to sit yourself up, but he pushes you back down.

“You mean to tell me I wasted showing you my cock, and it’s the first in life one you’ve ever seen? Dove, no wonder you’re on edge. You just about came undone from my tip at your panties, or maybe it was the piercing. You like the way this feels, my sweet little angel. Come on,” standing up, he fully gets undressed, proving that yes, he was pretty much covered in tattoos. His face and his dick are the exception. “They’re too pretty, darling. Let’s go.”

“Where?” It’s a struggle to sit up with the high emotions you have been feeling. Wobbly legs keep you from standing too quickly. There’s a dizziness that you feel in every part of your body.

“Bucky packed you a bathing suit, put it on, or join me in the hot tub naked. You need to relax,” there was a shift in his voice. Typically there is some grit to it. As if it was constantly filled with anger. Now it sounds — normal. He stands watching you as you try to process what it is you wanted to do. “Do I need to turn around for you to change? I wouldn’t advise running. There’s nobody here for miles. And if you run again, my patience and kindness will be gone, and I can’t promise what I will do.”

“Can I go get my bag?” He nods his head, gesturing for you to go out to the car, and you take careful steps. Counting each inhale and exhale as you walk to the car. Looking back at Steve who remains calm. He dares you to run just so he can capture you in his snares, but you won’t.

This time, you want to listen. Especially if he was going to grant you with asking questions. Bucky sucked at packing your bag. A shirt, panties, and the skimpiest bathing suit you owned. At least he remembered a toothbrush. Feeling a bit more irritated now, you walk back into the cabin, and gawk at Steve.

“Can you turn around?”

“Good girls say please.”

“And I didn’t,” giving you a crooked smile, he turns around. Giving you the smallest privacy to undress.

“I bet it feels nice to get out of those wet panties,” you ignore him. It did feel nice. Everything had started to stick to you, and it was like peeling wet clothes off. “That skin would look really pretty with a needle in it.”

“Why are you like this?” Looking up, you notice a mirror pointed right at you. Steve saw everything. Saw you undress, and didn’t look away.

“Tell me I didn’t make you so wet that you had to use your clothes to wipe your honey off your legs. We’re getting in a hot tub, Dove, it’ll wash right off.”

“Do you ever give privacy?”

“No. But you do have some nice tits. Let’s go,” Steve reaches back to give you a little tug, but you shake your head no, pointing at his dick. “Oh, I don’t get in the hot tub with clothes on. The anaconda will be underwater, you won’t be able to see him.”

“Clarence,” he scrunches his face up as you walk past him, and out on the back porch, assuming that’s where this hot tub was. You just need to not have that thing staring at you right now. “That’s what I’m going to call your penis; Clarence.”

“Clarence? Why not something like The Hammer or…”

“Clarence,” it’s what it was going to be. If he wanted you to look at it, you were going to give it a name that wasn’t so imposing. Steve walks past you, and settles himself into the pool. Giving a soft moan at how the heat was working out his own tension.

“Is it hot?”

“It is, but it’s not as hot as your tight little cunt. How’s she feeling?” Don’t answer him. Allow him his cocky little comments, and do what is asked. Make this easy and unpainful, and you’d feel better for it.

You wait on Steve to settle back into the water, and his eyes roam over your body hungrily. Watching as each inch of it gets swallowed by the heat, and he chuckles when you sit on the opposite side of him. Looking at anything that wasn’t Steve. He cracks his neck, and uses his thick fingers to trace around his lip, and he just smirks at you.

“I don’t like people who go behind my back.”

“I didn’t,” you finally meet his gaze, and it’s hard to look away. He is even sexier with water lapping up against his skin. The same skin that was setting your body ablaze. He had seared into every part of you, and your body craved him. Needed him to touch you.

“Didn’t Bucky tell you that there would be consequences?”

“Yeah, but…”

“I’m talking,” he interrupts, wading over closer to you. Both hands plant themselves on either side of you, and he stands up out of the water. His giant cock wet and bouncing right at your face. “You continue to talk over me, and I’ll slip something in your mouth to keep you quiet. Bucky warned you about the consequences of taking him into your apartment without me. You disobeyed. You chose to ignore him. Playing your stupid fucking childish game of being too naive to realize what you acting up does to me.”

He removes one hand from the back of the hot tub, and grips his cock. Rocking it right at your lips, but never touching you. “I can see it in your eyes how curious you are to know what a real cock feels like. I can show you.”

“I’m not begging,” you cross your legs, clenching them tight together. Refusing to let your pussy get you in any more trouble.

“Yet. Your body is, but your mouth is stubborn. Maybe I should give her a little taste. Come on, suck my dick and join me in the underworld.”

“Continue your threats.”

You whimper when his low growling laugh vibrates at your core. Wondering how he was able to make you feel him in a place he had hardly touched. “What do you want to know about me? I’ll give you five questions to ask, so you better make them count. That is going behind my back, little bird. You want to act all innocent, but you want to know what makes me tick. Why did I become who I am? So ask.”

“Why? Why do you do this?”

“I’m going to count that as two. Be careful next time,” sitting beside you, his hand runs up and down your thigh, and without realizing it, your legs start pulling apart. Giving him ample space to get to your cunt.

“I do this because I can control what’s out there. These streets ran rampant with cheap drugs cut with who the fuck knows. I sell pure. It costs more, but you won’t die from a damn accidental overdose because your drug of choice was laced with something. Three more.”

Your mouth drops open when his hand settles as high up on your thigh as possible sliding down, and rubs over the apex of your thigh, but never where your body truly wants it. You even lean back further, granting him more access, but his fingers don’t drift around. “How…why the playground?”

“You really fucking suck at this. There’s two more. You’re down to one question after this.”

“You’re fucking distracting me!” He grabs you up, placing you in his lap. Your body facing the same way as you. Using his legs to lock your own in place. Moving your bottoms to the side before pressing his dick right in between your pussy lips. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry!”

“You want to say fuck, you better make sure my dick is so deep inside you that you feel me in your filthy little mouth. I will not give you another chance, Dove. I mean it. I won’t wait for you to be blubbering, and crawling on your knees as you beg for me to be inside. I will take it. Is this your tactic, Dove? I don’t want to take. I want you to fully give that to me. You are so hot and slippery, you’re ready, but are you ready for me to have you down on your knees?”

“Please…” what were you asking him for? Why was he able to make you melt and repulse you simultaneously?

“Please just put it in there?” You shake your head no, and his mouth attacks your neck. Kissing and sucking at the sensitive column, while your hips buck up and down. Allowing his sinful dick to roam through your folds. His tip knocks against your clit, and you lean your head back against Steve.

“Easy, baby. You’re going to make yourself pass out before we get to the good part. That’s my playground. I have fond memories of bullies throwing me around the yard. If it wasn’t for Bucky, I would have died there. I promised myself that not only would I survive, but I was going to be bigger and meaner than any of those pieces of shit, and they would all cower just hearing my name.”

“Steve. Steve!” He is only holding his dick up against your body, it is you that is moving, grinding on him and searching for more, and terrified to have it. But he feels like heaven. He hadn’t even entered inside of you, and you are a mess.

“One more question, Dove. Be a good girl, and ask your pathetic little question since you need to know about the big bad drug lord that is following you around, and becoming more and more obsessed with you. Go on.”

“Why me?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” He is marking every inch of your neck with his filthy mouth. Yet again making sure that everyone knew that you were taken. And he would kill someone that would just look at you. Willing to murder anyone who’s cock you had seen. Even online porn couldn’t prepare you for this.

“I love challenges. I have this pretty little bird that is dying to be fucked deep and hard, but because of her upbringing or some shit, is denying herself pleasure. You need someone like me,” his voice starts going up an octave, and you grind on him faster. Harder. Both of you are needy and searching for something.

“That’s it, Dovey. I’m…I’m,” he holds your lips apart with two fingers, and presses his spongy tip in your entrance, and as soon as you are screaming at the intrusion, his cum spurts through you. Most of it spilling out, and mixing with the water, but some of it is a glorious warmth that you loathe.

He holds you in place, keeping you from squirming around as he looks down into the water, “I could do it you know. You’re breathing heavily, and this isn’t even the painful part. I’m getting tired of you acting like a little bitch. Do you see how easily I can take, Dove? Do you see that I have you right where I want you, but I’m giving you enough grace and power to tell me when our first time is?”

“But…you’re inside me…Steve, I wasn’t begging.”

“And I’m not fucking. I’m not even an inch inside. Enjoy my seed in you, Dove. Pretty soon it’ll be second nature to take my cock, and be filled with me. You wanted the consequences, this is it. But next time, it’ll be so much worse.”

“Just fuck me then,” you spit out, but he lifts you off him, and stands up. This time rubbing his tip over your pouty lips. You notice the bit of change in him, but keep your mouth shut. Letting him paint you with the remnants of the two of you.

“I’m no longer hard, and you’re not begging. But soon, Dove, soon you’ll wake up to me thrusting into you. You’ll sit on my lap, warming my cock while I distribute the drugs. You will be on all fours at the table, letting me inspect that greedy cunt before I plunge into her, and Bucky gets to see me fill your belly with my child. Get out of this tub, and let's go to bed.”

“Why are you so mean?”

“Why are you?” The audacity! You aren’t mean. “You’re mean to yourself, and I never said I was nice. Get out of this fucking tub, and let’s get in the bed.”

He doesn’t even turn around to look at you as he walks back into the cabin. There was no escape, and you are coming to realize that everyday that you are with him. Were you the problem here? Would it be so bad to let him inside of you?

Questions abound quickly in your mind, and you couldn’t process them long enough to answer. Allowing your body to go on autopilot just for tonight. Even if you are angry at what he just did. But are you? Are you really denying something that was living in between heaven and hell?

“Get in the bed,” Steve growls, pulling back the covers. “I have on underwear,” you gulp as you look around the room. Bucky hadn’t given you much thought to pack your clothes. Barely anything was in your bag.

“Here,” Steve says, tossing you a shirt. And you’re just stubborn enough, and still pissed at him from earlier. Undoing your bathing suit top you let it fall to the floor. Letting Steve angrily stare at your curves, and peaked nipples before letting the bottoms fall.

“You’re pushing me, Dovey,” he growls out. Stunned, and refusing to move. Your skin still damp from the tub. Water drips creating a trail right between your legs. “Dove!”

“Now, you know how it feels,” you’re sure you will pay for that later, but at this moment, it feels like you are taking the power back. You’re choosing to show him your body. Letitng him see how hard your nipples are with desire.

Pulling only his shirt on, you crawl onto the bed, tapping the other side, “Aren’t you going to get in?”

“You didn’t put panties on.”

“But you have on underwear. Seems a fair trade,” he grouses something under his breath, but crawls in behind you, pulling you completely flush with his body. Easing a thigh in between your leg, and pressing it firmly against your core. “Steve?”

“It’s my turn to ask questions,” he ignores your hands that try to push his hard leg away from you. Tense in his embrace, but he starts melting into you. Snuggling his face right behind your ear, and you hate the hold he has over you. “Why are you a virgin?”

“Because I haven’t had sex.”

He growls right up next to your ear, and you bite your lip. Hoping that he couldn’t feel how amazing that sound felt. “Why haven’t you had sex?”

The real question. You didn’t have a smart remark to get you out of it. He wanted the truth, and you weren’t ready to give it to him. “Because…”

“Because why?”

“That’s three questions, Steve.”

“I don’t care about the others. Just answer that one,” you wiggle around, wanting to actually give him the attention he wanted, but his hold is too great. “What are you doing?”

“I want to look at you while I answer,” immediately he lets you go. Waiting on you to flop to the other side, but he still pulls you in tight to him. Lifting your leg to throw over his hip. “I’ve never had this.”

“Yeah, I know. You’re a virgin. I’m sure if you laid like this with a — boyfriend,” the taste of that word is rotten in his mouth. No one deserved you. He didn’t deserve you, he was just desperate enough to capture you and make you his.

“No…not even that,” he cocks up an eyebrow as his features soften. He was beautiful. You had a crazy feeling no one ever saw this soft side of him. He had spent years creating his drug lord persona, that he forgot what being a lowly human was like.

“Boys aren’t interested in me. All my friends had them, and I…I was the third wheel. Or the fifth. But you get the point. No one has ever told me that I was — that I’m beautiful.”

He lets out an exasperated breath, and drifts closer to you. So close his lips brush against yours when he whispers your name, “You’re beautiful. And I’m no boy. I am a man, and you are mine. You don’t have to worry about all the boys that didn’t see you. The boys that didn’t realize what diamond that they had in front of them. And I won't have to worry about murdering them.”

“I’m thankful for that.”

“Look at me, and tell me that you’re beautiful,” it’s a strange request to make, but when you open your mouth nothing comes out. You were taught not to lie, and you didn’t fully believe it yourself. You had spent most of your life invisible, and no one ever noticed you, until this man came out of the shadows, and was trying to bring you into his own world of darkness.

“Say it. Tell me that you’re beautiful. Dovey, please,” you can’t. You shake your head no, letting your eyes start to close as you try and fight away the tears. He wasn’t going to see you cry. “You’re beautiful. And if I have to be the one to tell you that everyday for you to realize that you are, I will. Maybe that’s my purpose. You’re beautiful. You’re gorgeous. And sexy. And kind. And I want to corrupt you and bring you over into my darkness. Make you my whore, so you realize how irresistible that I find you.”

“Stop. Please, don’t…” he hears the crack in your voice. He would kill everyone that dared to make you feel unworthy. You were worthy. You were everything.

“You’re beautiful, darling. I have perfect vision, and I have seen a lot of women. None are as spectacular as you. Close your eyes, relax in my embrace because I’m never letting you go ever again. You’re stuck with me. I don’t want you to lose your fight, but just for tonight. Let’s call a truce.”

“Fine,” you mumble, finally letting his warmth envelop you as you relax in his embrace. It is an oddly satisfying and safe feeling. You were close enough to smell his musky cologne that lingered on his skin. His heartbeat creating a perfect rhythm to lull you to sleep, “Just for tonight.”

“Yes, yes, of course. Next time I’ll make sure we fall asleep with your cunt squeezing my cock,” insufferable asshole. You started to feel something. Not your body, but you. And then he opened his mouth. But at least it meant you weren’t falling. And you wouldn’t. Not with him.

Next

Masterlist

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[sarahowritesostucky]

📖"Temporary Custody"

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Steve x ofc x Bucky; Steve x Bucky

Word Count: 4042

Tags: Dom/sub, bdsm au, dom Bucky, sub reader, hurt/comfort, enemies to lovers, gay sex'n'stuff, straight sex'n'stuff, Steve being a literal Golden Retriever, mental health issues, dub-con, forced submission, referenced childhood abuse and resultant mental health issues, bakery au, m/f/m, gentle domination, total power exchange

Summary: The stigma and shame of being a submissive has kept Mary unfulfilled and in the closet her whole life, until an inciting incident leads to Bucky and Steve taking her in and giving her everything she was always too afraid to ask for.

Trigger warnings: This story contains themes of eating disordered behavior, body image issues, childhood abuse, self-harm, and alcohol abuse.

Wait! I haven't read an earlier chapter of this fic! Story Masterpost

5. Jiggly Soufflé Cake

Steve

“I should be in there,” Bucky says again, making Steve roll his eyes.

They’re sitting next to each other, out in the waiting room at the Center. It’s been over an hour, but Steve remembers how the intake worker had told them that Mary’s evaluation wouldn’t be short. Already, he’s read through half the crappy magazine selection. He lets the edge of an outdated issue of Dominant Monthly flop down to his lap. “Babe …”

“It’s taking too long. What if they’re harassing her or—”

“You know that’s not true. The people here are good. You’re just trying to control everything,” he reminds Bucky.

“If I was in there I could—”

“Get in the way. She needs to feel like she can express herself.”

“What if she’s not honest? What if Linda’s not asking her the right—”

“Buck, stop,” Steve says, injecting some command into his voice. Bucky might be the Dom, but Steve can put his foot down with his husband when needed. “The therapist knows what she’s doing. All the people here do. This is what they do.”

They’re at the Center for Designated Peoples, the place where people like Bucky go for … well, anything related to their dominance or submission needs. That’s all Steve really knows. He knows that Bucky has been in and out of CDPs since he was a kid. “It took almost a week to get her this appointment, alright? You want to mess that up?”

Bucky grumbles. “No.”

“Good. Cause they don’t need you in there, interfering in her assessment. So sit tight.”

Bucky shuts up after that, satisfying Steve that he’s made his point.

“Well, what do you think?” Bucky eventually says, when another ten minutes have passed and the door to the therapist’s office is still closed. “Of her?”

Steve glances over. “You mean in general?”

“Sure. Whatever.”

Steve can tell when Bucky’s being defensive. “You like her,” he says. “And not just cause of her lemon tarts.” He’d seen him looking at weighted blankets on Amazon, yesterday. “Admit it,” he prods, nudging Bucky’s shoe with his. “You can tell me how you feel. Why d’you need me to qualify it for you, first?

“Because I’m married to you, not her,” Bucky snaps. “Jesus, Rogers. Never met a man with less self-preservation instincts than you.”

“Mmhm. Aand?”

“... Okay I’m drawn to her,” Bucky says. “But I can’t tell how much of that is instinct and how much is normal people stuff.”

“‘Normal people stuff’,” Steve echoes, amused.

“I want to know what you think of her.” Bucky kicks his shoe back. “Tell me.”

“I like her too,” Steve concedes. “It’s not just you.” He can see as Bucky’s shoulders relaxing a little bit, knows that his opinion matters to his husband. “She’s different. Plain, but …” Steve searches for the right word. ‘Cute’ doesn’t seem right. She’s too prickly for that and too old besides. She’s a woman, not a girl, and he’s not just trying to describe her physical appearance. “I don’t know,” he says. “Editorial?”

“Editorial?” Bucky scowls. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“I dunno, just, not off the rack. Different.” Bucky snatches the magazine out of his lap and chucks it back to the coffee table. Steve rolls his eyes. “Wish she wasn’t so defensive, though. And I wish we could’ve met her … you know, like on a date or at the gym or something.”

Bucky snorts. “Yeah.”

“She grows on you,” Steve decides. Like an angry, stray cat. That’s dirty and scraggy a little.

“She’s pretty,” Bucky offers, but the words fall flat. They can both see that she’s attractive, that isn’t news. Bucky and Steve are attractive people themselves. They aren’t hurting for opportunities to be with attractive women (or men), if they want to. And it’s been a while since they invited another person into their bed. But …

“I haven’t been with a woman since my twenties,” Steve mumbles, thinking about it. He glances at Bucky. “You have.”

They both know Bucky was dating women casually when he met Steve, years ago. “Yeah,” he says simply.

“You ever miss ‘em? Women?” Steve kind of does sometimes. He likes how soft they are; the contrast. It had taken him a couple of dates and a few glasses of wine, back when they’d first gotten together, to admit to Bucky that he was bi. Steve had told him that, and then Bucky had disclosed his designation status. “We used to talk about the whole poly thing a lot more.”

“Hm, yeah I guess.” Bucky shrugs and reaches to take his hand. Steve gives it a squeeze. “I dunno babe. Kind of hard to think about anybody else when I’ve got you around.” He gives him a lecherous look that makes Steve glad they’re the only ones in the waiting room. “Your hot body’s been enough to keep my attention.” His eyes drag up and down Steve, mentally undressing him.

Steve feels heat creep up his neck and he chuckles, pushing Bucky’s hand away. “Stoppit. Jerk. I’m a person.”

“Punk,” Buck smirks. “You like it.”

“Shuddup. Not here. God, you’re such a creep.” They’re both grinning—probably like complete, horny letches—when the door to the therapist’s office opens.

The professionally dressed woman offers them a friendly smile. “Bucky, Steve.”

“Hey Linda,” Bucky greets.

“How’d it go, Doctor?” Steve asks, not on as informal terms with the CDP staff as his husband is. “Is she …”

“Mary is fine. Would you like to come in and talk with us?”

Bucky is immediately standing from his chair. “Yep.”

Steve has to refrain from rolling his eyes. He grabs Bucky’s wrist. “Hang on now, Buck. Maybe she doesn’t want us in there. We should try and give her choices where we can.”

Doctor Linda surprises him by saying, “Actually, Mary says she’s fine with discussing this all together.”

Bucky shoots him a smug look and tugs his wrist back. “See?”

This time Steve does roll his eyes, but he nods at Linda and gets up to follow her back into the office.

Bucky

Bucky can recall very clearly the first time he’d been told he had a mental illness. He’d been ten, had been sent to the school shrink for misbehavior. He remembers how his mom had come in, harried about being called off from work when her kid wasn’t even sick. Bucky had felt bad about that, had felt like he’d done something wrong (well, he had scrubbed Trixie Wallace’s face into a mud puddle at recess).

But still, even at ten years old he’d been smart enough to know that this meeting with his mom and the counselor was more serious than another simple admonition or in-school suspension.

Long story short, His mom wound up reacting with something like embarrassment, and Bucky had wound up internalizing that for a long time, feeling like his “condition” was something to be kept private and not discussed.

Now, he sits in Linda’s office and makes sure to exude an air of calm and acceptance. He doesn’t want Mary to be embarrassed about this like he was. It helps that times have changed a bit since Bucky was a kid, and he knows this particular Center very well. They do good work with the designated community. Bucky knows that no one here is going to announce to Mary that she’s a deviant.

Mary’s sitting in her own chair, separate from where Bucky and Steve share the couch. Even though Bucky’s instinct is to tell her to come sit with them, he holds back. He knows that the seating arrangement is likely purposeful on Linda’s part. He tries to remember Steve’s words about giving Mary choices where they can. Domination may be what she needs, but too much of a good thing, administered too fast, can still be harmful.

“High needs,” Steve is saying, echoing what Linda’s just told them. “... So, she’s like Bucky, but submissive?”

“Yes,” Linda confirms. “We did the assessment twice, and both times Mary tested at the far end of the spectrum.”

“Fantastic,” Mary mutters.

“We’ve been discussing what this might mean for her care plan, going forward. Mary has several other issues that I believe tie into her unfulfilled needs as a submissive.”

“I don’t understand how it went undiagnosed for so long,” Bucky says, feeling vaguely upset about it. “Doc?”

She shrugs. “Mary’s from a part of the country where mental health awareness isn’t so advanced. They didn’t test in the public school system where she grew up.” Mary makes a quiet noise of discontent and Linda adds, “So we’ve been talking about the physiology of it, the role of neurotransmitters and how important it is for her to be dropped regularly. And we’ve discussed what that might look like, different options she has.”

“Options?”

Here, Linda hesitates. “Well … Mary has expressed an interest in taking advantage of the Center’s social programs.”

“No,” Bucky says right away. “Absolutely not.”

“She said you do it,” Mary counters, and when Bucky looks over he finds her glaring at him. “Apparently, I don’t need you after all. I can just come here and hook up with any old body.”

“I’m your legal guardian right now,” Bucky reminds her. “And the clubs are for people who know what they’re doing. It’s too unstructured for you. You need more stability than that.”

Mary scoffs and crosses her arms, but Dr. Linda is already nodding in agreement. “I think Bucky’s right, Mary,” she says gently. “A reliable, dominant partner and regular drops in a safe space are what you need right now.”

“Why can’t you just write me a prescription or something?” Mary complains. “You said it was a brain chemistry thing, so why not?”

Linda looks uncomfortable as she explains, “Medication is usually only considered as a last ditch treatment option … and with your substance use disorder and other issues I'd rather not —”

“I am not an alcoholic!”

“No meds,” Bucky says, hating that idea. “Come on, Mary. You don’t want to be drugged up, do you?”

She glares at him. “You just want to control me.”

He fights very, very hard not to roll his eyes. “Yeah,” he quips. “That’s kind of the whole point.”

Mary groans and slumps back into the cushions of her chair, looking put out. “This sucks.”

“It’s manageable,” Linda reminds gently.

"I don't want to be this way," she mumbles. "'High needs'. It's embarrassing."

“It's no different than needing air, or food or sleep,” Steve supplies. “You guys just have this extra thing.”

Mary makes a face, probably at being lumped into the ‘you guys’ category with Bucky. “So, what’s the plan then?” she asks mulishly, crossing her arms. “We go back to your place and you break out the whips and chains?”

Bucky barks out a laugh before he can stop himself. “Oh, honey. I promise there aren’t any chains.” He winks at her. “I prefer leather.”

Mary

After the therapist, it gets a little easier to be around Steve and Bucky. Mary’s still quick to anger, thinking about the situation that she's managed to get herself into, but there are some ameliorating factors to the situation.

Having an official diagnosis—no matter how much she doesn’t want this diagnosis—is at least a starting point. Mary doesn’t have to keep exhausting herself, arguing with Bucky that she’s not a sub. She is. That’s that.

And when he takes it upon himself to speak with Mary’s boss about her situation (effectively getting him to unfire her for the multiple days of work she’s missed) some more of Mary’s contempt for Bucky slips away.

“Thank you,” she says quietly once they leave the café, her next shift already scheduled for that upcoming Monday. “ I … this job, it means a lot to me.”

“I know.” Bucky says simply, though Mary can see the self-satisfaction in his posture. He takes her hand as they walk together down the sidewalk, and to Mary it feels like some sort of test, like he’s waiting for her to pull away.

So she forces herself to curl her fingers around his and keep holding his hand.

Again, she can practically feel the reaction coming off of him. He’s pleased with her. Mary’s cheeks flush from the domineering squeeze he gives her hand from time to time as they walk, and she’s grateful that she can blame it on the day’s chilly air.

Doctor Linda had explained everything, of course, when Mary went in for the assessment. The testing hadn’t been what she was expecting, hadn’t been embarrassing or invasive. And, perhaps most disappointing of all, it hadn’t been predictable. Mary hadn’t felt like she knew which way to fake her responses, to get the test to declare her mentally fit. So she’d answered honestly. 

And where had that gotten her? Lumped into the same group of deviants as James Bucky Barnes. “High needs”—God it sounds awful.

“It’s not necessarily sexual,” Linda tells her at her second appointment. “Or, well … it doesn’t have to be, at least. There are ways around it, if you really need an asexual dynamic.”

Mary nods along, but inside she thinks about the last time Bucky scolded her or praised her or held her hand on the sidewalk. She thinks about when he’d put his hand on her throat and applied pressure. Thinking about those things doesn’t make her feel asexual at all.

The first time Bucky doms her in a coordinated manner, she’s actually unaware of what he’s doing at first. It’s one of Mary’s  three days off and she’s terribly bored, researching how to make grapefruit soda caviar and wondering if there’s a gym nearby that she could join. She hasn’t exercised in weeks, and honestly, if there’s even the slightest chance that she’s going to wind up being naked in front of Bucky or Steve (or, oh god, both of them), then she really feels like she needs to work out.

Scratching fingernails over the skin of her lower stomach, she googles nearby gyms, finds one that looks decent, and tells Steve that she’s headed out to go join. She’s tying one sneaker when Steve objects.

“Oh but wait,” he says. “Um, Bucky’s going to be home soon. And I think he uh, I think he had plans. … For us.”

Mary raises an eyebrow. She likes Steve—thinks he’s kind of a big, beefy sweetheart, actually—but sometimes his devotion to Bucky and what Bucky wants is annoying. “Fine, you stay here and tell him where I went. I’ve got to get out of this apartment.” And out from under you and your bossy husband’s constant supervision. “Got to … I dunno, burn off some steam.”

Bucky’s timing is impeccable. He comes through the door just as she’s bending over to lace up her other sneaker. His arms are full of plastic grocery bags, which he dumps onto the kitchen counter with fanfare. "Honey, I'm home."

“What happened to using the reusable bags?” Steve drawls, earning an eye roll from Bucky.

“Forgot 'em.”

“Mmhm.”

“Shut up.” Bucky’s grinning at his husband, until he catches sight of Mary crouched in her gym clothes. “Where do you think you’re going?” he asks her.

“None of your business,” she snips, standing back up and heading for the front door.

“Stop right there, Princess.”

Oh. Well that’s a new one. Mary turns back around with what she’s sure is an incredulous look. “‘Princess’?”

Bucky smiles warmly and drags her over to inspect the groceries that are in the bags. She’s quick to catalog: eggs, butter, flour, sugar, milk. “What?” she asks, looking up at him. “You think I’m going to cook for you?”

“Oh I know you’re going to cook for me,” he says calmly, taking dry goods out of one of the bags and arranging them in the pantry. “Bake, in fact.”

Mary might stare a little, maybe with her lips parted. She feels equal parts annoyed and intrigued by his audacity. Something vaguely squirmy and warm stirs in her. She's planning on throwing some haughty quip back at him, maybe casually threatening poisoning, but somehow what comes out of her mouth is a subservient, “Well … what do you want me to make?”

He turns back around with bright eyes. “Oh, I’m sure you can come up with something,” he practically purrs. He gets right up in her space and says, “Something … delectable.”

Mary has to avert her gaze and turn away. She says a quick prayer that he hadn’t been close enough to hear the little hitch in her breath, then tries to focus her attention on cataloging the ingredients the jerk has brought her. Eggs, butter, flour, sugar, milk …

Hadn’t she … hadn’t she been going out somewhere? Oh yeah, right. The gym.

She squeaks when Bucky claps a cheerful hand on her shoulder and gives her a squeeze. “Good girl,” he simpers, then walks over to the couch and flops down next to Steve, giving him a kiss hello. They proceed to chat with each other and chat about their days like Mary isn’t standing less than twenty feet away in the kitchen.

She suddenly feels like some 1950’s housewife. … One with damp panties, now that Bucky’s called her that right in her ear. Christ. Had Steve heard? She glances back over to them, but they’re not looking her way. Mary flushes and looks back down at the countertop. Eggs, butter, flour, sugar, milk. She tries to think if she has everything she might need for soufflé cakes.

“How can something so plain be so good?” Steve wonders at the dinner table, where he’s squinting closely at his third helping of dessert like he can glean answers from it. “And what is it?”

“Satisfying,” Bucky says sagely. “That’s the secret.”

“The secret is buttermilk. And it’s cake, Steve. Just eat it.”

“How’re those dishes coming, Doll?” Bucky calls back, shooting her a sly look from over his shoulder. Mary resists the urge to stick her tongue out at him and dunks her hands back into the soapy sink water. 

Steve pokes the jiggly cake with his fork. “What are yooou?” 

By the time they’re finished with dinner and dessert (and dishes), she’s figured it out. All the pet names, the casual touches and the confident demands? Bucky’s trying to dominate her. She thinks about calling him out on it, but promptly forgets to do that when they go into the living room to watch a movie and Bucky firmly suggests that she make herself comfortable on the floor instead of the couch. At his and Steve’s feet.

Forget about damp panties, she just hopes it doesn’t start to show through her leggings.

Asexual dynamic her ass.

Mary had only held onto the illusion that the guys were gay gay for about two whole days, before it became very apparent that they actually like women, too. Steve’s comments alone about Daenerys while watching Game of Thrones are enough to broadcast that he swings both ways.

So that takes it from regrettable to just plain insulting when, as time goes by, Bucky doesn’t initiate anything sexual with her. He keeps doing his whole Dom thing, aided and abetted by Steve, and almost always in ways that take Mary off guard. He’s never mean, never does any of the intimidating things she’d imagined a dom would do to a submissive. 

And Mary won’t admit it, but she’s starting to look forward to when Bucky gets home from work at the end of the day. She spends more time than she’ll ever admit planning out something new to make for dessert, all the while anticipating the beginning of Bucky’s early evening commands and how they elicit those first tendrils of effervescent, pink fizz giddiness. 

It’s the later commands—the ones that come after dinner and during tv time, that tend to bring on the warm, sunken bathwater feelings. Marys pretty sure that Steve is a bit of a voyeur, because he seems fascinated by it all, watching every night as Bucky bosses her around, sometimes even joining in his own small ways, by petting her hair or telling her she’s sweet, or something like that.

Every evening, they play this strange game. And every evening Bucky and Steve each give her a kiss on the cheek and send her dazed little self off to bed, the two of them retiring to their own room. In the beginning, being left alone to go to bed is nice. She ignores the arousal between her legs in favor of floating in her syrupy sea of sweet feelings. Going to bed in subspace gives her the most solid sleep she’s ever had in her life. But after another week of it, and then another, the arousal starts to linger a little more at bedtime. She starts to fantasize about what it would be like to keep things going, to take Steve’s hand at the end of the night and let him guide her into his and Bucky’s bedroom, rather than her own; be held between their two big bodies while they whisper more sweet things to her and touch her in new places …

Maybe Steve and Bucky really do just want this to be platonic, she thinks, as another week of the same goes by and her dreams are getting dirtier by the minute. She’d surreptitiously stuffed her vibrator into a bag when they’d gone back to her apartment to retrieve her belongings, but she’s been too afraid to use it when Steve and Bucky are right across the hallway in their room, mortified to think that they might hear the buzzing and know what she’s doing.

Best not to add fuel to the fire, she thinks, when she ignores how increasingly horny she’s becoming and forces herself to lie still and count sheep and not fantasize about the two insanely hot, not-gay-gay men in the next room. They’re still a happily married couple, she tells herself. They’ve got no interest in her as of yet, and she’ll just be making herself into a homewrecker if she pushes for more.

… Or maybe they’re just not attracted to her that way, she eventually starts to think. Steve and Bucky are both in amazing shape, and they’re very good looking. They probably see her as like … maybe a solid five—with makeup and a blowout. 

She gets a little down in the dumps about it, realizing that all the heavy drinking and crap diet of this past year and a half has taken its toll on her, and she’s just not physically their type. She convinces Bucky to start adding salmon to the grocery list, she researches the pros and cons of lip filler, and starts whitening her teeth with one of those nasty little gel kits.

She stands in front of her bathroom mirror each night and scrutinizes her naked body, dragging her nails absentmindedly against the skin of her lower stomach and cataloging everything that’s not as good as it could be. She considers the scars on her hip that have no new slices added to the roster, wonders if Bucky ever wound up telling Steve about how … how awful they are …

“Night, Mary!” Steve chirps from across the hall, making her inhale and flinch in surprise.

“N-night!” she calls back through the wall, feeling the pleasant effects of that night’s drop fading away faster than she’d like.

Maybe she should just be happy that she’s getting at least this much attention from them, that things have improved a little and she at least isn’t drinking herself into a stupor each night anymore. That’s a positive, even if she is still left pining after them like a fool every night. Steve and Bucky are okay guys, but they probably just don’t want anything more than this from her. They’re helping her because she shares this mental illness with Bucky, and that’s super nice of them, but it doesn’t mean they have to be attracted to her, too. Mary’s not entitled to anything.

She joins a 24 hour gym and takes to binge exercising in the middle of the night to push away the uncertainty.

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Control, Chapters 3+4 (finale!)

Halsin/Tav (Named Original Male Character)

Dayan | Seldarine drow Ranger

Rating: Explicit 18+

PWP, D/s, Sub Halsin, Bottom Halsin

CW: Rough Oral (hair pulling, deep throat, gagging), Light Bondage, Some mild blood

Kinks: Scent kink, face-sitting, face-fucking, biting, scratching, knotting, inappropriate use of Polymorph

Read Chapters 1+2 on Tumblr Read all on Ao3 Approx. 9k words

Dayan (Tav) needs some time to himself after the victory against Ketheric Thorm, the win a bittersweet one. Halsin finds him however, reluctant to leave the troubled drow alone. They decide to relax together and share a pipe --though due to Dayan's special blend, relaxing soon becomes the last thing on their minds. Dayan decides he wants to give a bit more than receive this time around, and Halsin obliges, Dayan indulging in his lover's body in way he hasn't gotten to experience for a very, very long time.

Light D/s fic where Halsin gets to experience submissiveness in safety and love and Dayan gets some catharsis for the very, very difficult month he's had.

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Dayan's teeth closed over his bottom lip in concentration, hiding his excited grin as he slid back down straddling Halsin's ribcage again. The vines held, Halsin's wrists bound above his head. They’d moved further up the islet, to a small copse of trees in the center, surrounded by wildflowers, where Dayan told Halsin to lie down with his arms crossed over his head. He concentrated hard, said a few words and glimmering green vines sprouted from the ground, ready to do his bidding. 

“It seems I do remember that little spell you taught me, after all,” Dayan said with delight and ran his hand over Halsin’s arms and shoulders, massaging the muscles carefully. “Still comfy?" he asked, and Halsin nodded, breathing hard through his nose.

"I miss your scent," he rasped, in a voice that made the hairs on Dayan's arms rise and a delicious shiver thrum through him. Gods, he loved that voice. When the druid sounded like that, Dayan knew he was doing very good things to him.

“Then I won’t keep you from it any longer,” he purred, slowly crawling up the druid’s body. He shifted his legs to kneel over Halsin’s head, his thighs spreading right over his face and grinned down at him. “Snap your fingers twice for me, love?” Halsin obeyed and Dayan nodded, satisfied at hearing their agreed signal to stop if needed. He gripped his length in a hand, stroking it from base to tip a few times and then lowered himself, his scrotum squishing pleasantly over Halsin’s nose. He felt the full-body shudder of his lover as Halsin inhaled deeply, mouth already working to suck the supple skin and soft round orbs. “Gods…just like that…” Dayan groaned, his head falling back as he rolled his hips, grinding himself against Halsin’s face. Beads of sweat slid down his thighs and the druid huffed, straining his neck to lap eagerly at the soft skin and clean him of every drop. 

Dayan ground down harder, stuffing Halsin’s mouth and nose with his heavy sack. “Open up more, wider,” he ordered breathlessly, huffing harder in pleasure when Halsin obeyed. 

His lover sucked Dayan’s balls dutifully, his tongue working over them without cease, licking and tasting, saliva starting to drool from the corner of his mouth. The scent and taste of Dayan’s sweat and musk was making Halsin shudder and twitch with need, his thick cock bouncing slightly as his hips ground up into empty air. “Not – hhh – done with you yet,” Dayan gasped, fist working his curved shaft faster. He slid back just enough to be able to watch Halsin’s face as he moaned and mouthed over Dayan’s saliva-slick ballsack, his eyes hazy with lust. 

“Fuck, that’s pretty,” the ranger gasped, lids heavy as he watched Halsin worship beneath him.

Precum beaded at the tip of that plush head and dripped, plinking onto the bridge of Halsin’s nose and sliding down over his cheek. Those glittering eyes stared up at Dayan under furrowed, needy brows and he actually whined, muffled around a mouthful of scrotum. Dayan grinned and gently slid back, freeing himself. Halsin sucked in a sharp breath and panted, his cheeks flushed darkly and his mouth wet. “Open up, beloved,” Dayan whispered, and smiled as that pink tongue slid out for him eagerly, ready to catch the drops of precum Dayan milked from his cock. His hand moved to slide two fingers into Halsin’s mouth, pulling it open more as he fed him, the druid swallowing every drop of syrup that drooled from the drow’s cockhead. 

Watching Halsin moan for his taste made Dayan’s prick swell even harder; Dayan ground it against that scarred face, smearing precum and drool all over Halsin’s lips and cheeks, his lengthy shaft pressed into Halsin’s nose as Dayan rolled his hips. His lover shuddered and jerked his own hips more. “M-My heart, you tease me–” Halsin gasped, his voice husky and strained, muffled against Dayan’s length. His mouth opened more, tongue desperately lapping against Dayan’s cock to taste every inch he could reach. The ranger chuckled softly and gripped himself, rubbing his plush tip against Halsin’s lips. 

“Do I?” he breathed as the druid groaned and tried to suckle, his prize pulled away too soon. Dayan felt Halsin arch below him, a flustered, frustrated growl rumbling. He petted through those loose brown locks soothingly. “Mmh patience, sunstone,” he admonished and then shifted completely off Halsin’s face, the druid lifting his head to try to chase after him with a hungry tongue. 

He was rewarded for his eagerness moments later, however, as Dayan simply turned around and sat back down. He felt the tremble of Halsin’s moan, that huge body shuddering as the heat and pheromone-laden scent of Dayan’s hole filled his senses. Dayan sucked in a sharp breath, as that thick, hot tongue wasted no time; his back arched deep to shove himself further into Halsin’s face, even as he reached for the poor druid’s neglected cock. 

His fingers wrapped around it as best they could and stroked, earning a muffled, muted huff of pleasure from the writhing wood elf below him. He got an extra hard grind for that. Dayan stroked more, his thumb rolling around that fat, plush cockhead, teasingly circling the rim of foreskin. Halsin bucked with a breathless growl, and Dayan laughed softly. “Keep going down there,” he called, slowing the pace of his hand. “Don’t get distracted, my sweet bear.”

As if to prove a point, that hot thick tongue expertly breached Dayan’s tight ring, lapping over the taut muscles with a hunger that made the drow bite back a cry of pleasure as his cock twitched, hard. He grunted and moved his hips, practically riding Halsin’s tongue as the druid rolled it into him, deeper and deeper.

Halsin’s cock was drooling almost as much as he was, Dayan noted with a grin; he strained forward to taste, tongue darting into the slit, causing a small earthquake of writhing below him. 

He groaned in delight as he licked up every tasty drop, Halsin twitching both in his hand and between his thighs. He heard the telltale creaking of wrists twisting in vine-wrought binds, subconsciously seeking escape. 

Dayan stroked a hand over the druid’s hip, caressing it. “Still good?” he murmured. There was a pause, then a finger snap. Dayan grinned and really started to grind against that beautiful face below him, Halsin’s surprised gasps and shuddering moans practically muffled to silence. Finally, he eased off, caressing Halsin’s shoulder as the druid’s hoarse pants for air warmed his thighs. “Easy, sunstone, breathe deep and slow,” he murmured, stroking back stray strands of hair from his face. Halsin’s mouth was gently swollen and flushed red, lips and cheeks slick with precum and drool. His pupils were blown out, the rim of green around them interspersed with flashes of gold. Even in his submission, the bear hungered. 

Dayan loved it. He shifted backward and bent to kiss the wood elf, upside down and messily, tongue claiming the heat of his mouth. He pulled back to let Halsin breathe, the druid no doubt light-headed from having his nostrils plugged with Dayan’s balls. He stroked through his hair, cradling his face. “More?” he asked, lips curling slowly at the sheer need that twisted on Halsin’s face. The druid sucked in a breath and begged, voice raw and crackling. “More – more , my wolf, I need you – fuck me, please ! Silvanus give me strength, I cannot wait another moment–” 

"You can and you will,” Dayan interrupted firmly, his hands gentle in Halsin’s hair. “There's plenty more to come.” Halsin growled in frustration and received a hard, biting kiss, Dayan shushing him lovingly. He licked softly over those bruised, swollen lips, then rose in one graceful motion and moved to straddle Halsin’s torso again, settling down across his chest. He gestured, squinting with concentration, as the Entangle spell shifted, sprouted more writhing vines that snaked up the tree behind them, wrapping around a branch and then downward towards Halsin. They curled around him, lifting the druid’s arms and upper shoulders from the ground. Head raising, Halsin blinked at him and shifted himself to get more comfortable. He nodded to Dayan, letting him know all was well in the new position. Dayan smirked as he carefully slid his shaft between the impressive rise of Halsin's pecs and gripped them tight, squeezing them together and starting to grind his hips. He glanced up to the elf's face and his lips curled wider to see the open-mouthed flush that stained his cheeks, much different than the instinct-driven arousal from before. Halsin's eyes darted off to the side, his expression no less than flustered, embarrassed enjoyment. 

"Ohh, what's that look, my love?" Dayan purred, precum pooling over his lover's neck. He bent down and whispered low in a pink-tipped pointed ear, hips still sliding himself between his love's plush cleavage. "I think you must like it when I rut myself against you, eager for whatever friction I find to sate me, mmh?" 

"Hhhh..." Halsin shuddered, arching up against the drow, his wrists twisting in the magicked binds. "I-I do. No one..offers such a thing..."

Dayan pressed a kiss to Halsin’s ear, his husky whisper warm with adoration and love. “I’ll use you any time you wish, my sun. You only need ask.” He moved to plant a warm, loving kiss on those panting lips, Halsin moaning into his mouth, spurring Dayan on; his hips snapped, grinding his cock into Halsin’s makeshift cleavage, seeking the warmth of his body. He could tell it was making the elf squirm with embarrassment in the most arousing way and he kissed him again deeply. 

"Being so good for me," he murred against those kiss-swollen lips, tasting himself on them. “So good ~ gets you a reward.” He rose back up, planting his legs firmly. 

"Lift your head more," he instructed, his hand moving to grip a fist in those sweat-dripped locks. "And open your mouth. Mmh, yes, just like that. Tongue out…” Dayan’s other hand moved to grip Halsin’s chin, thumb pushing into his maw and pulling it open more, stretching his lips wider. He smiled adoringly at the pretty sight of his love, flushed and needy. So undone, such a mess. 

“That’s my sweet bear, so patient~." 

And then he thrust.

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"Mmmh, tongue out more, my love. Drink down the taste you missed so much~"

Halsin gasped and groaned as Dayan's cockhead plunged past his open lips, raking across his tongue and spilling precum into his mouth, plunging into that warm heat and back out again, over and over. Halsin's tongue worked to lick up every drop frantically, rolling over Dayan's slit and plush tip every time it kissed his lips, again and again.

Dayan kept thrusting – deeper, past Halsin’s tongue now, and deeper, hitting the back of his throat. He heard the gagging and almost came, but managed to hold on until he could– “Nngh!! Fuck! So tight–” Dayan’s words cut off as his cock popped down Halsin’s throat, the druid jerking in his bonds as he fought his gag reflex. He choked around Dayan’s cock, gagged prettily, saliva drooling from his open mouth. 

Dayan soothed fingers through those brown locks, even as he kept thrusting; Halsin held his breath and then sucked in air through his nose, sitting up more. He opened up his throat for the drow, who praised his lovely bear and curled a hand tighter in his hair. Dayan thrust, fucking Halsin’s throat now, loving the filthy noises it made, the loud suck echoing in the air. His hand instinctively went to cup the druid’s thick neck and feel his driving length shift beneath skin. 

It didn’t take long. Halsin’s tongue working his hole deeply had done half the job and feeling his cock slide back and forth, bulging Halsin’s neck finished him. Dayan felt his balls tighten as he fucked into Halsin’s panting mouth and groaned low, guttural. Head dropping forward, eyes locked on the image in front of him, he gripped Halsin’s hair tighter, the druid’s tongue lolling out as he moaned huskily, his face flushed red. Dayan pulled out of Halsin’s throat and clutched his cock, pumping it with a low breathy moan until he felt that taut line snap – his hips jerked forward, cock twitching in his hand as thick cream spurted over Halsin’s waiting tongue. It coated his face, spattering in lines over his cheeks and nose and pooling into his mouth. 

He swallowed and swallowed with shaking, pleased noises. Just before Dayan finished, he grabbed Halsin’s hair with both hands and yanked his mouth down on the drow’s pulsing shaft. He shoved himself deep down that narrow throat and finished there, Halsin’s swallows squeezing the last few spurts from him, filling the druid’s nose with the thick, heady musk of his scent. 

With a low quaking groan, Dayan finally pulled out and sat back as Halsin sagged, panting softly. It took a moment for the drow to come back to himself, the fog of pleasure dissipating slowly; he found himself sitting back on Halsin’s chest, panting and shivering lightly, his cock still slightly twitching as it softened. 

Halsin was breathing hard, swallowing spit and semen and trembling in his bonds, body drenched in sweat. His eyes had a haze over them and Dayan glanced behind him to see the druid’s cock still full and stiff, soaked shiny with pre and throbbing. He smiled softly and quickly climbed off the massive elf. Lying next to him, Dayan carefully directed the vines to drop Halsin’s arms slowly, his shoulders no doubt sore from the stretch of being held aloft by his wrists; they fell heavily over Dayan’s neck and he allowed the bindings to loosen and slither away. Halsin didn’t move his arms though, leaving them wrapped around the smaller elf as he sank down against him. His head tucked up against the hollow between Dayan’s neck and collarbone. 

The drow wrapped his arm around those broad shoulders and Halsin instinctively curled up into him, despite the size difference; Dayan reached down for that throbbing, aching cock and started to stroke. Halsin began to protest, bleary eyes opening as he claimed Dayan didn’t need to finish him, the pleasure in serving was enough – but Dayan shushed him and just held him close. 

He watched his love’s face as he deftly stroked him closer and closer to his own climax, Halsin gripping his arm as his silver wolf pulled him over the edge. It didn’t take long until Halsin clutched at him hard enough to bruise, shaking violently in Dayan’s arms as he shouted his name and painted them both with copious amounts of sticky seed. Dayan kept stroking through the orgasm, slowing with Halsin’s heartbeats until he stopped, the druid giving one final full body shudder before stilling. Dayan lifted his hand to his mouth and licked it clean, groaning at the taste of his lover, and then wrapped both his arms around the druid and just held him for a long while, gently combing fingers through his hair over and over. He cast what little healing magic he had, just to make any soreness fade; Halsin sighed and nuzzled his neck in thanks, kissing it gently before getting comfortable again for a little while longer. Finally, calmed and comforted, Halsin sat up slowly with a soft little groan, rubbing at his still-slick mouth. He came back with a handful of sticky drool and made a face as he laughed quietly. His voice was still slightly hoarse. “You did make a mess out of me, didn’t you?” “I keep my promises,” Dayan smirked, plucking a fat leaf off one of the nearby plants. He folded it into a large makeshift cup and offered it to Halsin. The druid accepted it gratefully, conjuring it full of water and drank his fill, then another full cup after that. He did the same for Dayan, who then sated his own thirst. “I admit, I thought you’d planned to…well, do something slightly different,” Halsin said and Dayan laughed softly, cupping the druid’s still slightly-flushed cheek. “Oh, I still plan to, no need to call it a night yet. If you’re desiring more, that is.” 

Halsin chuckled low and nodded, his hand raising to press against Dayan’s. “Always, my heart. I can never have enough of your touch.” 

Dayan smiled, relieved to hear it. “Might need your help.” He looked at Halsin with a teasing little smile. “If you can spare a restoration spell…or two~” Halsin blinked and then laughed, having to take a moment before he collected himself. “Ah, of course, my proud wolf. Of course. Can’t have you ravish me with a flagging spirit, can we?” He cast the spell, both of them bathed in a calming green light briefly. Dayan sighed, feeling awake and ready for a second or third round. “I don’t want anything flagging, thank you,” Dayan grinned and shifted to his knees. “But I do have a surprise for you.” “Oh…?” Halsin asked with a teasing smile playing around his lips and settled back in a small sloped patch of grass, watching Dayan with interest. “Yes. I don’t know if this is going to work exactly like I want, but I’ve been practicing and – well, let’s just see,” he muttered mysteriously and shifted to sit on his heels. He lifted his hands, gesturing a little while mumbling words under his breath, as his hands started to glow. Whatever he was casting surged up his arms and over his body, making it shine faintly, then more and more strongly, until Halsin’s eyes widened as he realized what Dayan was trying to cast. “My heart, is that – are you casting polym–” But before Dayan could answer, his body jerked back violently as his whole form alighted, the shape of him flickering strangely; Halsin sucked in a breath, brows furrowed in slight worry as the spell seemed to struggle somewhat. But then with a slight flare of light, it stilled and Dayan fell forward onto his hands and knees, breathing harshly.

“Hhhh…” The drow’s head was down, hair falling over his face as his splayed fingers curled and dragged through the grass. Each finger was tipped with a dark claw, almost like a tiefling’s, but black and slightly more curved and narrow. There was shaggy silvery-gray fur now over his shoulders, elbows and knees, and fluffed on his chest between his pecs. 

He lifted his head and Halsin felt a thrill surge through him to see those gentle violet eyes had turned as yellow as a harvest moon, bright and gleaming. Dayan smiled and his teeth were sharp. And – likely not intended but still, striking – the drow had traded his elf ears for two tall proud wolf ears, tipped with black, and a thick tail that whipped almost challengingly. Halsin stared for a shocked, silent beat and then took a shuddering breath. Dayan stalked towards his lover on hands and knees, his smile curling wide to show those sharp, long wolf fangs. 

As he crawled onto Halsin’s lap, straddling him, the druid’s eyes widened as he felt something hard press against his stomach – thicker and longer than it had been before, with a very tell-tale bulge at the base. Halsin’s eyes flashed gold and he groaned a low, rumbling sound, his hands grabbing onto Dayan’s hips as the drow started bathing his neck with a long, flat tongue. “Ooohhh fuck , Oakfather preserve me…”  

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"Soo...you haven't...mmmhh said what you think."

There was a smile, a flash of fangs in the moonlight, and dark claws dragged slowly across a muscular back.

"Hhhaah..."

"Ah, good things, then."

"Hhhnn....g-good things, yes. Very good things, my hh--hah--!"

Dayan gave a low throaty chuckle and leaned back on Halsin's lap, withdrawing his clawed nails from the druid's back. He lifted a hand to his mouth and dragged his tongue over the edge of one, tasting copper. Halsin stared, lost in the sight of it.

"You should keep the marks," the drow continued. "I want to be reminded of tonight for awhile yet, when we're in our bedroll." His voice was huskier than usual and it was doing things to the poor wood elf. Even with the restoration spell he was surprised at how quickly heat pooled in his groin and his flaccid length stirred just from Dayan talking to him.

Though, of course, the tongue on his neck, and the teeth and claws in his skin helped.

"Con...Consider it done..." It was hard for Halsin to answer, Dayan's hips hadn't stopped their slow, torturous roll since he straddled his thighs; his rock-hard prick was grinding distractingly into the druid's soft stomach, smearing stickiness across his skin. The stammer earned another low laugh and Dayan leaned into Halsin, to run his tongue languidly over the slowly-seeping bite marks he'd already left in the crook where neck meets shoulder.

After he'd left the druid thoroughly shivering, skin prickled with goosebumps, he pressed lips to his neck, murmuring.

"It's not silly...? I didn't mean to include...these particular additions," he sat up, gesturing to indicate the ears perched atop his head and the tail, with a crinkled-nose frown.

Halsin bit his bottom lip, considering his words.

"Not silly," he emphasized and then chuckled softly. "But...I can't deny, my heart. It is cute." At Dayan's look he held up his hands in surrender.

"Cute and...! Well. Rather arousing. Or is this not evidence enough?" He slid his hands back down to Dayan's hips and pulled him closer, so he could feel his length press against the druid's nearly-full erection. Dayan groaned low and rolled his hips again, earning a huff from his love. He leaned in flush against the bigger elf, his lips brushing the other's.

"You just like the fangs," he rasped with a grin, and kissed Halsin hard, that tongue licking between the druid's lips and over his teeth before pushing into his mouth.

The claws lightly traced down the back of his neck, down his spine, and then dug into his lower back and raked their way back up. Halsin arched, hissing as the pain shot pleasure through his limbs and groin. The burning chased after, endorphins making him almost woozy as he clung to Dayan, moans edged with the softest whine.

Dayan pulled back and slid his tongue down Halsin's jaw to the other side of his neck to lavish it with attention now. "Such pretty noises and I've barely started, besides..."

"So cruel to tease an old elf," Halsin groaned and Dayan actually sat up and laughed, showing off all his sharp teeth and making Halsin's cock twitch at the sight.

"Hahah! Who do you think you're talking to?" He grinned, cupping Halsin's face and planting a kiss on his nose. "Shall I call you Elder now, oh venerated one? What are these fine lines at the corners of my eyes and mouth, I wonder~"

"Beautiful. Perfect." Halsin said simply, his eyes soft as he gazed at Dayan. "Nothing more and nothing less."

Dayan blinked, at a loss for words; lips parted and cheeks warming. He puffed out a breath and in a sudden lurch buried his face in the right crook of Halsin's neck, tongue hot against the skin. A hand gripped in his ruddy brown locks and pulled as wolf teeth sank deep.

Halsin gasped and dug his nails into Dayan's hips, his mouth dropping open with a cry as his silver wolf marked and claimed him fiercely, sealing it with a bloody kiss.

◈━◈━◈━◈━◈

"Gods, my love -- you taste so much better. You smell so much better..." Dayan's voice was nearly a growl now, his lips pressed to Halsin's ear as he actively ground himself against the druid's thick full cock, a hand spanning them both to hold them together, slickened with his own spit and the shared mix of their precum.

Halsin was lying back against the gentle grassy slope, writhing beneath the polymorphed drow. His skin was criss-crossed with claw marks, some only red scratches and others harsh lines of torn skin, seeping lazily. The rest of his body held sharp bites, circles of stinging red dotted from Halsin's neck to his hips.

The druid's eyes were practically rolled back in his skull with such a heady mix of pain and pleasure constantly surging through him.

Dayan moved his head down to place another, biting a ring around Halsin's left nipple that made the druid jolt, quivering as Dayan's tongue flicked the pert bud trapped between his teeth.

"D-Dayan...by all the Gods, please, I-I...I am going to go mad without you inside me--"

"Is this what it feels like for you?" the drow groaned, ignoring the sweet plea while he suckled that nipple until it tingled. He felt a gush of liquid pour over his fingertips from Halsin's throbbing cock and smirked, nipping his skin once before sitting up.

He eyed Halsin's face, noting his eyes were almost entirely glimmering gold now. He saw his teeth seemed sharper; he glanced down and exhaled a hard breath to see the pulsing cock had a little extra addition at its base, swollen and tender. A shiver of arousal went through the drow and he hummed, leaning to kiss him deeply.

"Hold back the bear, beloved...but I can take the claws and teeth. Do you like how I feel against you, like this?" He thrust into Halsin more, that round knot at the base of his thicker cock grinding against the druid’s own.

"Ye-e-e-eesss..." Halsin answered, a guttural growl of a sound, his eyes flashing. Dayan returned the growl as he sat up, the timbre different; they complimented each other, he thought. He gripped their cocks with both hands and stroked them together, frotting almost viciously.

Halsin bucked up into his hands, heaving short sharp breaths; his knees lifted, toes digging into the grass. “Silvanus preserve me,” he panted, glitters of gold light sparking down his body like a cresting wave. “My wolf, I’m not – I-I can’t–”

“Shhhh, shh shh shh…” Dayan’s ears flicked forward as his right hand cupped Halsin’s jaw, the left squeezing his cock at the base, above the new knot. He leaned in close, murmuring against those parted, wet lips. “Breathe, beloved…” He felt Halsin’s now-sharp nails dig into the soft meat of his ass, and traced a thumb over a bottom lip, then dipped inside and touched a fanged tooth, bringing forth the lightest pinprick. Halsin groaned at the sudden scent of blood.

With a gentle grin, Dayan slid his fingers to the back of the druid’s head and gripped his hair, pushing his head into the crook of his neck.

“Bite. Soothe the beast with heat and blood,” he murred and tensed in anticipation. He could feel Halsin fight against it and tightened his fingers, tugging sharply on his hair. His voice was a growling rasp, an order.

”Bite.”

And Halsin did.

The pain was intense, but Dayan had felt much worse, and hardly with the heat of his lover’s body against him and his throbbing cock in hand. He gritted his teeth, sucking in a painful quivering breath, Halsin’s nails cutting into his skin as the druid gripped his hips tight.

The growl that escaped Halsin’s throat made Dayan’s eyelids flutter and he shook with a husky groan more animal than man, lost in blissful agony. Halsin’s cock leaked down his shaft, coating Dayan’s fingers and he lifted them to his mouth, sucking each clean in turn, lost in the scent of him, his sweat and musk, in the scent of blood.

“D-Don’t…bite off a chunk,” he laughed breathlessly and Halsin moaned, seeming to shake himself and eased off. His tongue lapped at Dayan’s bloody shoulder and his strong arms slid around the ranger, fingers curling in the fur that now lined them.

“I’m sorry my heart,” he breathed, touching Dayan’s shoulder with a glowing hand. The drow felt healing magic start to knit him together. “Thank you, thank you…”

“Not too much,” Dayan panted, letting go of Halsin’s hair to touch his hand with fingertips. “Leave enough to scar.” He laughed again, giddy and lightheaded and pulled back, cradling Halsin’s crimson-streaked jaw between hands. His lips and entire chin were coated in Dayan’s blood and he thought it was the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen. He kissed him, deeply, tasting his own copper and wondered if this is how Astarion felt when Dayan shared himself.

He pulled back, still looking into those lustful eyes, the gold sparks calmed now. "May I bind you again?" he asked reverently and rewarded Halsin with hungry kisses when he nodded his assent. Halsin returned them with a desperation Dayan wasn't sure he'd ever felt from the druid. Open mouthed and panting, tongue lolling, begging softly between for his love to use him, break him, make him his.

Those familiar ropes of green slithered up and over Halsin's strong powerful limbs, wrapping around them in a way that was both practical and lovely to look at, as Dayan backed away. The vines -- strong and strewn with leaves and flowering honeysuckle -- tied themselves across his body, knotting at certain points, criss-crossing at others.

They wrapped around his throat, his chest, binding his wrists and arms together, wound over his cock, between his legs and around them, tying thigh and calf. Halsin moaned at every motion, the tendrils not soft enough to avoid scraping the claw and bite marks and making them burn deliciously.

The final flourish covered his eyes like a pretty blindfold and he writhed, turning his head with a shuddering breath.

"Still good?" Dayan whispered in his ear and Halsin nodded, pressing his face to nuzzle into Dayan's hair needily.

The drow backed up to look his fairly mentally-taxing handiwork over, Halsin panting softly, turning his head to follow his sounds. The sight was exquisite; all that power and strength given over to vulnerability and trust. Dayan slid his hands over the druid's thighs.

"Dark Dancer save me, you're so godsdamned beautiful Halsin," he whispered and bent to kiss a trail down his inner thighs, between each binding tendril, his hand lightly stroking the poor elf's trapped cock. His love only moaned, bending upward into his touch, gasping and shuddering with each sharp bite and suckle over his inner thighs.

Dayan huffed a hard breath as he pressed his face between the elf's legs, his scent making a hungry growl rumble in the back of the drow's throat. Halsin's cock pulsed under his hand, only held back from release by the vines holding him in pleasure. Dayan shifted some of them to free his heavy balls, burying his face in them and breathing that intoxicating scent, musk and woodsmoke and sweat; he suckled on them and tasted salt and river water.

Halsin groaned somewhere far above and Dayan felt like he might not be able to wait much longer himself, his cock aching and twitching between his thighs as he rolled his tongue down to press against that tight ring of muscle. He delved into it, the heat inside so much hotter it almost burned.

Saliva dribbled down the druid's ass, the drow's tongue breaching his hole and pushing inside, rolling and tasting and making that channel slick. His claws scraped lightly at sensitive skin, making Halsin jerk with a gasp and shiver, tense up just enough to squeeze.

Dayan panted as he spread thumbs on either side of that trembling ring and stretched it wide, pressing his face into it and started tongue-fucking the druid. Deeper and deeper -- much more than he could get with his usual appendage. What a thrill it was, too.

Halsin writhed even more wildly, making Dayan have to hold him down to properly reach deep, until he felt a familiar nub with the tip of his tongue. He pressed it, rubbed firmly back and forth and got the reaction he desired. Halsin wailed, bucking so hard he nearly pushed Dayan off him as he cursed -- Dayan assumed -- in a druidic language the ranger didn't know. His cock jerked, flushed dark red and trembling, weeping clear syrup over his bound stomach, aching to come but unable.

He reached up to feel that thick meat twitching beneath the vines and moved them aside to free it and stroke, managing to angle himself so he could keep grinding that hot wet muscle into Halsin's prostate.

But before Halsin could climax a second time, Dayan pulled back and rose over him, gesturing the vines away from his eyes. Halsin looked up, cheeks and ears flushed pink, the color crawling down his neck. Once more fully blown out, those pretty eyes stared up at the drow, brow crinkled in lust and desire and need.

"...Please..." Halsin said, his voice breaking in a near-sob and something in Dayan sparked, lit aflame -- he hefted those tree-trunk thighs up, vines tying them neatly to the rest of the bindings so his love could relax, let himself lie there and take what he was given. Halsin's head lolled to the side, his loosened hair falling prettily across his face as he watched his silver wolf finally press up against his plump round ass, cock in hand.

Dayan glanced down only once, to aim the tip at Halsin's spit-soaked entrance and push it in slowly with a thumb; his eyes lifted to remain locked on his sweet bear's wanton, needy expression. That alone was nearly enough to make him falter and thrust too deep too soon, but he managed to hold it together. Dayan was much bigger than usual, almost Halsin’s size and he wanted to be careful; the druid’s innards squeezed him tight enough as they parted to take it all, slow but firm.

His fangs closed over his bottom lip, lower eyelids twitching at the sensation of sinking into that searing heat, Halsin's eager hole practically sucking him in. Lips parted as he watched Halsin's face contorted in pleasure; watched his mouth drop open slowly, brows furrowing over eyes squeezed shut. His back arched fully off the ground, the druid crying out a long shaking sound of ecstacy.

Dayan felt like the wolf more than ever; he pressed closer, leaning over Halsin, his ears back and teeth bared – finally, finally, burying himself in his love to the hilt – or, almost to the hilt, his knot nudging into that stretched rim like a promise. He pressed harder, seeking more of that warmth, toes scraping the grass, until Halsin’s head fell back and he whimpered, eyes wet with intensity. Only then did Dayan pull back, til only the tip remained. He exhaled a growl and with a gesture – Halsin’s cock was freed from the binding and Dayan thrust.

◈━◈━◈━◈━◈

The cry that his lover gave echoed across the river, Halsin climaxing immediately at the first powerful slam inside him. Dayan snapped his hips hard against the druid’s body, fucking him through his intense orgasm, the vines creaking as Halsin tested the bonds with his violent contortions, his cock pulsing again and again as he painted his chest and stomach with thick jets of seed. Whatever control Halsin had clung to during Dayan’s unending teasing snapped and he sobbed his pleasure to the stars, voice crying the drow’s name with abandon.

Dayan’s grin was feral as he grabbed the vines and pulled Halsin to him for a heavy kiss, his love’s moan swallowed by mouth and tongue as he finished. The druid’s body collapsed against him, quaking at the sensation of being taken so deeply, sensitive and tender from such an intense orgasm.

Dayan grabbed Halsin’s hips and held him steady, the druid’s head leaning on his shoulder, while he thrust harder and deeper, making the massive elf jolt with each pound of his narrow pelvis. He kissed Halsin’s jaw and neck and bit him gently, earning a hoarse, crackling groan.

“You still have a request, my love,” he growled in his ear, sucking the lobe and earning a shaking noise of pleasure. “Anything you want – anything. I’ll even switch places, or stop if you’re sated–”

“No – don’t stop! Don’t stop,” Halsin moaned quickly, his face burying into Dayan’s neck. “J-Just – let me hold you, please, please, my heart, my wolf, I need to hold you–”

No other words were needed – the vines came undone in a heartbeat, Halsin nearly falling atop Dayan as he was suddenly released, his limbs trembling from the strain they’d been under. But true to his word, as soon as he was freed his legs hooked around those pumping hips and his arms wrapped tight around the drow’s shoulders. His face was still crushed against the spot he’d bit, his panting breaths muffled into the drow’s shoulder.

Dayan balanced himself on his hands, his movements smoother and less jolting, breath coming in grunts and ragged gasps. After a minute he slid his arms around the larger elf and held him just as tight, kissing wherever his lips could reach.

He felt something poking into his abdomen and realized Halsin was getting hard again; he grinned and angled his hips so he could rub his body against it, pleased when a shudder made the druid twitch underneath him, his clawed fingernails dragging over Dayan’s shoulders and making him hiss in pleasure. His head bowed, lips pressing a kiss to Halsin’s chest, his nipples, his neck.

“Gods, you’re like an aphrodisiac,” he mumbled into Halsin’s collarbone. “I can’t get enough~”

With a grunt he suddenly rolled over, pulling Halsin so the druid was atop him, his legs straddling his hips now. Halsin gasped and then cried out as his weight brought him back down on Dayan’s thick shaft heavily, the drow catching him before he took more than he wanted. He kissed him again and again in apology, shifting his shoulders so Halsin could wrap him back up in those thick arms.

Lifting his knees and bracing his heels in the dirt, Dayan pumped a little faster, his brows furrowed as he felt himself getting closer and closer to that plateau. Halsin pushed himself up on his palms to hover over Dayan, look down at him, their eyes lost in one another a moment. Dayan lifted a hand, cupped Halsin’s cheek, the druid tilting into it and drawing his thumb into his mouth.

“Do you want to…” Dayan paused, hesitating, and then grinned, cheeks flushing a little darker. “Do you want to take it…?” he asked quietly, biting his bottom lip, a fang poking over. Halsin melted at the sight and nodded, eyes closing as he sucked on Dayan’s thumb and bit it gently.

”Please,” he rumbled, looking down…and Dayan was struck mute by the sight.

Halsin’s hair hung wild, falling over half his face, strands stuck to his forehead and cheeks with the sweat that dripped down his temple and dotted his forehead. His cheeks were flushed beautifully, reddened to the tips of his ears and down his neck, lips bite-bruised and swollen, parted and soft.

And those eyes…shining wet, red-rimmed and hazy, pupils big enough they looked dark in the moonlight; he looked at Dayan with such naked, tender vulnerability the drow’s chest tightened and he suddenly felt incredibly protective.

“Come here,” he said suddenly, reaching for Halsin’s shoulders and drawing him back down, wrapping one arm tight around him and the other slipping between their bodies to grip his hard cock and stroke it in time with the deep rocking pace of his hips. Halsin moved as well, rolling back on Dayan’s cock to meet his thrusts, rim pressing more and more onto that thick knot with every motion. Dayan could feel himself cresting, stroking faster as Halsin clung tightly to him, eyes widening with surprise at how quickly the drow’s touch was bringing him to his pleasure.

Dayan shifted his hand to Halsin’s jaw, thumb pressing lightly on his lip, groaning as that pretty mouth fell open, fangs glinting. He wondered if his own were as attractive; his fist pumped faster and Halsin suddenly gripped his shoulders painfully tight.

“Dayan! I’m–!!”

Whatever words he meant to say were swallowed by the shout that exploded from his open mouth, the druid’s body jerking as his cock pulsed in Dayan’s hand, spurting another heavy load; his ass tightened hard and Dayan’s breath caught in his throat, his back arching as he struggled to thrust through the rhythmic squeezing of Halsin’s intense orgasm. His fingers slipped from Halsin’s cheek and he slapped his hand on his ass, grabbing it and squeezing tight; he jerked his hips hard, arched deep and held himself inside with trembling thighs, cresting his climax right alongside his lover’s.

Pleasure-filled cries spilled from Dayan’s lips as his aching cock pumped jet after jet of hot seed deep in the druid’s guts; his eyes squeezed open, meeting Halsin’s own and he lifted his head and bit his neck again, marking him a third time. Halsin moaned happily, spreading his legs wider, eagerly. Dayan growled more, dug his nails into the larger male’s ass – and thrust.

Halsin cried out til his voice broke, as his silver wolf knotted him, the sudden stretch and fullness making him orgasm a second time, dry but shaking; electricity shooting through him from groin to toes and fingertips. He sucked in a shuddering breath and collapsed, his body trembling with aftershocks for several minutes afterwards.

“...I love you,” Dayan rasped as he held the druid tightly, taking deep slow breaths to quell his pounding chest. . “And I, you; my heart, my brave silver wolf.” Halsin smiled in bliss. He was so full. He could feel his channel gently swollen with Dayan’s seed and knot both, making him shiver every time he shifted gently. He decided not to move, content to lie there and feel his wolf inside him as long as he could. Arms the color of the sky before a storm wound around him and his chest rumbled like a happy bear in the sun.

Limbs relaxed as Halsin sank into his love’s embrace, both of them resting into the grass, eyes closed and foreheads pressed together. Dayan’s fingers eventually found his hair, twining in it to stroke gently. The only sound accompanying their reverie was the gentle breeze through the trees, a harmony to their gently panting, satisfied breaths.

◈━◈━◈━◈━◈

“Halsin…sweet lover mine~”

“Mmmhhhh…?”

“I think I can pull out now…want me to try?”

“Hrrrfh.”

Dayan could feel Halsin’s huff against his chest, his face nested in the new soft fur that tufted over it, eyes closed with contentment. He chuckled quietly and gently poked the elf’s pointed ear.

“Hey lazy bear, I’m thirsty, geddoff me.”

“Comfy,” came the answering grumble, Halsin’s face pointedly turning into Dayan’s chest more.

The drow stared up at the stars, his arms splayed beside him in the grass. “So this is how it ends for me, trapped beneath a druid I fucked into hibernation.” He sighed dramatically. “I accept my fate with open arms. May Lady Silverhair sing my lifesong~”

Halsin opened one sulky eye and sighed heavily at the melodramatic speech, pushing himself up to sit on Dayan’s hips. “Who’s learning bad habits from our little star, now?” he grumbled to himself, rubbing his eyes and stretching. The drow watched, endeared by how much Halsin really acted like a grumpy bear when he was forced to move from a favorite spot.

Pushing himself up to a sitting position, he shifted a little and felt his length slide free, fully flaccid now, though he – a little worryingly – hadn’t yet changed back to a plain drow. He mused on that as Halsin exhaled, a shiver running through him at the sensation, and moved to plop beside Dayan in the grass.

“Did you get the catharsis you hoped for tonight?” Halsin asked softly as he lounged back and basked in the soreness given to him by his lover.

“I think so. I certainly feel more relaxed,” Dayan laughed. “And it was nice to…know what to do, for once. Know what worked. I think I worry too much whether I can make the right decisions. Deciding whether a grove should be ransacked by goblins is easy,” he murmured, eyes cast down. “But we’re going into the lion’s den and I don’t know what to do. Everyone’s counting on me and I’m lost.”

“My heart,” Halsin leaned in, took one of Dayan’s hands and brought it to his lips. “You’re not alone in this, I promise you. We are all of us all counting on each other.” His voice lowered and he leaned in. “For as long as I’ve known you – you’ve only ever tried to do what you thought was right. Often at some great cost to yourself.” He paused and smiled, bittersweet. “I know that firsthand.”

Dayan’s brows crinkled. “Halsin…”

A finger to his lips. “Shush. Water under the bridge, as you say. But listen now. I speak only the truth.” He tapped Dayan’s chest. “Your heart is the strongest lodestone I know. Follow it, beloved. And I’ll follow you. I will be by your side, always.”

Dayan didn’t trust himself to speak. He just nodded and leaned up to kiss his honey-sweet bear so he wouldn’t see wetness at the corner of his eyes.

His head lowered, pressing against Halsin’s shoulder a moment; his eyes fell on the druid’s chest and he blinked, lifting his head with a wince. Reaching out, the ranger ran fingertips over all the bite and claw marks that covered the elf, all the wounds he left on Halsin’s skin.

“Too tired to heal these away?” he asked, a little worriedly. “Are you all right? I hope I wasn’t too rough…”

“Not at all, my heart. It was perfect, every moment,” Halsin reassured him, then paused and laughed a bit sheepishly, touching the bite marks around his left nipple with gentle fingertips. “I did just a cursory healing for us both, to avoid infection, but I, ah…I want them to stay for a bit. Like you wanted yours…I want to be reminded of tonight when we’re together in our bedroll,” he grinned at Dayan, echoing his earlier words.

He noticed Halsin’s teeth seemed to be back to normal and ran his tongue over his own, frowning a bit.

“Halsin! Your jerkin won’t cover half of those, everyone’s going to think I mauled you,” Dayan fretted, though his cheeks warmed at the thought of walking in there with the druid, proudly showing off his handiwork. Halsin smirked, leaning on his hand to whisper in Dayan’s ear, his voice a husky purr.

“Let them.”

“You are incorrigible. Thank the gods,” Dayan smiled and tilted his head to catch the elf’s mouth in a kiss, soft and tender, lasting until they both had to pull away for air, chuckling together at still being so hungry for each other’s lips. He leaned back in the grass as Halsin searched for the abandoned leaf cup, filling it up to slake his thirst after all their very energetic activity, and basked in the glow of the stars.

“I notice the polymorph hasn’t worn off. Not that I mind you still being my handsome silver wolf,” Halsin mused, filling the cup again and offering it to Dayan. The drow accepted it gratefully and sat up to drain the cup, wiping his mouth after and holding it back out for a refill. Halsin obliged with a smile and then started to work a little more healing magic into his sore body.

Just a little. The aches and tenderness were part of the experience, after all.

“It has not,” Dayan agreed and grimaced, staring down at the water. “In truth, um…Gale made this spell for me, it’s something he created himself. I asked him for his help…” Dayan coughed. “I may have neglected to also ask how long it’s supposed to work.” He took a sip of water and sighed, his ears flattening with his realization.

Halsin had to suppress the urge to reach out and scratch one of them. Dayan probably didn’t even realize he’s doing that, he thought. Nor how adorable it looks.

“Knowing him…everyone’s going to wake up to a sight tomorrow much more surprising than a few bite marks.” He groaned and flopped back in the grass. “Astarion is going to have a fit, I will never live this down.”

“You asked for Gale’s help?” Halsin repeated in surprise, looking down at the other with raised brows. “I – this was rather spontaneous tonight, was it not? I hadn’t even planned to follow you until I saw you take your weapons, surely you didn’t intend–”

“Oh no, no this wasn’t planned,” Dayan said quickly, holding up his hands. “I mean – this wasn’t,” he touched a row of claw marks on Halsin’s hip, unable to keep from grinning a little at the sight. He was rather proud of them, he couldn’t deny it. Maybe that was more of the wolf. “My desire tonight was all your fault, sunstone.” He smiled at that but Halsin pressed.

“But this spell was something planned…? I’m sorry to keep on it, I’m just curious. You’ve said before that you don’t enjoy shapechanging.”

“I don’t enjoy having to disguise myself with magic just to safely exist topside,” Dayan clarified softly. “I didn’t go into it. But that’s what I really meant.”

Halsin’s brow furrowed and he scooted over to Dayan, lying down on his side next to him so they faced one another. He lifted a hand to the drow’s cheek, and Dayan smiled, his own hand cupping Halsin’s, an instinctive motion.

“My apologies, my heart. I didn’t intend to make you think of such things. Nor that you felt you couldn’t tell me the specifics. I know why, and while we’ve already had that discussion – I’m sorry, still.”

Dayan squeezed his hand, but didn’t speak on it; like Halsin said, they’d already talked about that, and a great many other things besides on the particular topic of Dayan’s heritage. Water under the bridge. “It’s all right,” he said softly. “But as to this spell…I asked Gale to help me do something like it because I…well, I wanted to know what it was like, for you,” he murmured softly, feeling a little embarrassed about it.

“For me?” Halsin blinked.

Dayan slid closer to the druid, his hand moving to Halsin’s chest, over his heart. “Your bear is a part of you, in every way it can be. That feeling of connection to it, that wild free thing that comes out in you. I just. I wanted to know what it was like,” his eyes, still as golden yellow as the sun, flicked up to meet Halsin’s.

“It’s such an important part of who you are, I wanted to share in it with you.”

The druid exhaled a breath and pulled Dayan to him, lips pressed to the drow’s forehead. He pulled back and chuckled low, his voice slightly thick with emotion. “You do not have to go to such lengths to share the wild freedom of nature with me, beloved. You already have, every moment we’re together. I feel it in you. When we run through the forest on a hunt together or share a night under the stars, or when I watch you chat with Scratch. And every other creature you come across,” he teased. “You would welcome an entire pack of four-legged friends if you could.” He paused and then hummed, considering. “Or include them in the pack you already have, perhaps.”

“Pfft!” Dayan scoffed, his cheeks warm, about to deny such a thing. Then paused himself, thinking, and gave a small soft laugh. “Aye, I suppose that’s true enough.” He grinned a little. “Still, not quite the same as knowing what it’s like.”

“And now that you do?” Halsin asked, his finger tracing Dayan’s bottom lip and then over his fangs..

Dayan tilted his head. “It’s – an experience.” He paused and then grinned, dipping his head. “All right, I love it. I’ll miss it when it fades, but perhaps this should be saved for special, rare occasions.” He shot Halsin a smirk. “The instinct is a bit hard to tamp down. Now I understand that night by the river a lot better.”

Halsin groaned and dropped his head against Dayan’s shoulder, making the drow laugh. “I can only hope the time comes when you don’t remember to tease me about that once a tenday.”

“With my memory? Undoubtedly,” Dayan snarked and then stretched deeply and rolled onto his back.

“Come, sta kha’sik. Let’s lie here a little longer before we have to return. I want to watch the sunrise with you, while we can still see it like nature intends.” He grinned and Halsin snorted, curling up against his side, his head tucked into Dayan’s hair, his arm stretched across him.

Unable to resist any longer, he lifted his hand and scratched one of those black-tipped ears. Dayan surprised himself with the happy whine that left his throat – he blinked, glancing at Halsin, his face warm; the druid was smiling ear to pointed ear with practically sparkling eyes.

Dayan gave a deep, long put-upon sigh – but he was smiling too. He gave in and nodded, settling down to let his bear pet him all he wished, while they waited for the sun to rise.

(It did feel rather nice, after all.)