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animasolaoriginal · 2 months

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I n f a t u a t e d ♦️THREE

CHAPTER ONE◾TWO THREE FOUR◾FIVE SIX◾SEVEN◾EIGHT◾NINE◾️TEN ELEVEN

He finds out the girl he picked up on a whim is the perfect candidate. So innocent, so submissive already, with just the right amount of Daddy issues. But she still has a lot to learn, and he's determined to teach her everything.

ruthless nightclub owner ❌ innocent young woman with a crush

WARNING: NSFW! Explicit sexual content. Age gap. Size difference. Dubcon elements. Dom/sub dynamic. Sex toys. Fingering. Cunnilingus. Orgasm denial. Oral sex/deepthroating. Anal play. Creampies. (For more tags, check it on AO3!) // WORDS: 4.9k

TWO 🟥 THREE 🟥 FOUR

He's surprised how quickly she adjusted to her new surroundings, to the things he's asked of her, forced on her. Maybe she's still feeling the after-effects of the drug he's given her last night, maybe she doesn't understand the situation just yet, maybe she's simply the perfect candidate for this. To stay here, for him. She's barely putting up any fight, only seems embarrassed most of the time, but the way she's sucked him off has shown him how eager she really is.

Even though she still has a long way to go. Too fucking innocent.

She's that little ball of hair and limbs on his lap, curled up, melting into him, small hands that have been around his cock now gripping his shirt. Feet tucked under his thigh, deep little breaths against his chest. It's been only a few hours, and she's already so submissive. He's almost disappointed he didn't get to break her first. But maybe her defiance is yet to come. He's certainly looking forward to it.

His phone chimes on the coffee table, and he throws a quick look at the display. The courier is here. Good. Without a word, he stands, picking her up effortlessly. She hums against him, leans into him as he carries her into the bedroom. When he puts her down on the bed, leaning over her for a moment, he meets her hooded eyes. So pliant, so innocent. He can't help but lean down further to press his lips to hers.

She melts into the mattress as he pushes her deeper, putting his weight on her, elbows on either side of her shoulders as he gives himself a few minutes of a bit more much-needed pleasure before he has to leave her. She's hesitant at first, but as soon as he slips his tongue between her lips, her own jumps into action. A groan escapes him as she kisses him back with more and more confidence. His fingers dig into her hair, their tongues wrestling, his cock stirs back to life against the fabric of his pants.

He leans back abruptly, breathing a little harder, the girl beneath him panting as well, her lips parted and red, glistening. Her eyes on him. “I gotta take care of something,” he tells her quietly. She only blinks. “Be a good girl and wait here for me, okay?” The way her pupils dilate when he calls her that makes his stomach tense up. He's noticed it before, how she reacts to his praise. It's an intoxicating sight.

He crawls off her and stands, looking down at her small frame. White lace was a good choice, accents her innocence perfectly. Those little embroidered flowers barely cover anything, but it's still enough fabric to keep it interesting. She's beautiful, the way she lies in front of him, chest rising and falling, that flutter to her stomach, the little twitch to her thighs as she presses them together and tries to hide her sex. He raises an eyebrow at that.

“While I'm gone,” he says, a smirk growing on his lips, “I have a little task for you.”

He steps towards the nightstand and pulls open the first drawer, randomly picks some of its contents and throws them onto the bed next to her. Her eyes widen when she follows the gesture and stares at the colorful toys. He picks up one of the smaller dildos and braces himself on one arm as he leans over her.

“I want you to be very wet when I come back,” he whispers, gently taking her hand and placing the object onto her small palm. “Understood?”

She still looks at him in shock, and he can already tell she's never used any of the things he's presented her with. Another challenge, another thing he's willing to change. He leans back and looks down at her, head cocked to the side. His eyes narrow slightly when she doesn't reply.

“Understood?” he repeats a little harsher.

A tiny gasp escapes her and she sits up, nodding frantically. “Yes, sir.”

His hand finds her cheek, a gentle caress, thumb running over her bottom lip. He watches her intently. “Good girl.” The shiver that runs through her amuses him immensely. Patting her cheek, he then turns away and leaves her to her own devices.

Returning to his phone, he sends a message to the courier, and minutes later there's a chime on the door. His men are good, and fast, and when he looks through the things in the box that was brought up to his place, he nods in contentment. The things she left in the club, a jacket, a phone, case stuffed with some money, some keys and her ID. He's surprised that she's actually 19, when she looks quite a bit younger. Not that it really matters. His eyes scan her name, memorizing it. Fits her.

There's a folder tucked into the side, all the information they could gather on her, and the more he reads, the wider his smile gets. She is perfect, a random pick, an instinct, and it has still been the best choice. Alone in the big city. He checks her phone, swipes through pictures and messages. There's only one new message, someone congratulating her. Not many social contacts, no Mom or Dad or other relatives. Does explain a few things though. The girl definitely lacked the presence of a proper authority figure in her life, or at least someone who could give her the attention she needs, someone to hug her even, guide her through life, tell her what's right or wrong. No wonder she's so overwhelmed with his advances, yet strangely compliant at the same time.

Daddy issues.

What a perfect little thing that found her way into his clutches. He turns the phone off and puts it back into the box, then locks it securely in the safe in his office, before he focuses on the bag that came with the delivery. Clothes he ordered for her, more underwear mostly, some dresses, shoes. He doesn't plan to take her out much, not yet, so she won't need too many clothes anyway. They're just an illusion of safety for now, something she feels more comfortable in, before he'll take that away as well.

Grabbing the bag, he returns to the bedroom – and freezes. The bed is empty, except for the array of sex toys on the blanket. Untouched, unmoved. And the girl is gone. Something hot rises inside him, his hand tightens around the straps of the bag. He checks the bathroom, also empty. When he opens the door to his walk-in closet, he hears a soft little gasp, before his eyes move down to the far back where she's curled up on her side, wide eyes staring at him from under her lashes.

Like a beaten animal – and he hasn't even done anything to her yet. Not really, anyway.

He puts the bag down on a shelf and approaches her slowly. The dildo he gave her lies in front of her, just as untouched as the rest. She curls up even more, a little ball of hair and limbs, white lace in stark contrast to the dark rug she's lying on. He crouches down, hands resting on his knees as he watches her.

“What are you doing here, baby?” he asks quietly. “Are you hiding from me?”

She sniffles, shakes her head. “No,” she mumbles, wide eyes following his every move. Why is she so skittish all of a sudden? The drugs probably wore off. Poor thing.

He doesn't care. His hand reaches out and grabs her elbow, pulls her closer. A little yelp escapes her. He sits down on the floor and pulls her between his legs, she struggles against him but his fingers close around her arm, squeezing harder than he intended. She winces, a deep shudder rushing through her small body when he drapes her legs over his thigh, making her lean against him. One arm securely around her, holding her with enough authority that she stops squirming, he raises the other hand and grabs her chin, makes her look at him.

“What happened?” he asks, looking at her, scanning her face, fear and shock evident on it.

She averts her eyes, chewing on her lip. He squeezes her chin.

“Look at me.”

She does, with a soft little whine, blinking rapidly, eyes glistening as she meets his gaze. “M'sorry...” she mumbles.

“For what?” His voice is stern, and she frowns at his tone.

“For... for not... doing... what you told me...” she whispers, the first tear falling from her lashes. “I... I couldn't...”

He raises an eyebrow. “Why not?”

Her cheeks are bright red by now, her eyes moving over his face in frantic little flutters. “Felt... wrong...”

He watches her, letting go of her chin to move his hand straight between her legs. She flinches and yelps when his fingertips brush against her panties. The fabric is a little damp, warm against his touch. He doesn't hesitate and slips a finger under the hem, testing the waters. She turns her head away, whining softly as her blush spreads over her shoulders. “Do you need my help?” he whispers.

She only stiffens in his hold as his finger glides along her slit. Warm, wetter than he expected. He doesn't know why she was so stressed about this task or thinking she failed him. She's perfectly responsive. His lips brush against her temple.

“Tell me you need me to help you...” he breathes against her.

Her thighs twitch. “I... I need you to... to help me...” she mumbles out, burying her face in his chest in a little gesture of embarrassment. So fucking cute.

“Good girl,” he hums and kisses her forehead while his finger slips between her folds, gathers her slick and promptly dips into her entrance.

She flinches, but keeps quiet, leaning into him as he nudges her legs apart with his thumb. His finger slips in and out of her, her tight walls gripping him in a way that makes his cock throb. Her wetness gathers around him, quiet squelching sounds filling his ear. She lets out little noises of discomfort, barely-there whines, almost-sobs but in a way that doesn't seem too distressed. She's slowly adjusting, relaxing in his hold, her breaths deeper.

His thumb finds her clit, and when he pushes gently on it, she wails a little louder, her legs trembling, her small hands gripping the front of his shirt as she melts into him more. He keeps drawing tight circles around her nub, his digit pushing deep, in and out, faster, her wetness runs over his hand. The moment she becomes really still, a sharp inhale cutting through the air, he stops, pulls away, and she looks up with her lips parted, almost pouty, eyebrows furrowed, disappointed.

He smirks at her and brings his wet finger to her lips. She doesn't fight it when he slips it into her mouth, rubs it over her tongue and along her gums, pushes deeper. She freezes again, stares at him, but then she closes her lips around his finger and sucks, her tongue flicking around it, licking up her own juices. He pulls it out with a wet pop and leans down, capturing her mouth for a quick, deep kiss, sucking on her tongue, tasting her. She melts into him, clinging to him, but as soon as she starts to relax again, he lets go, leans back, leans around her to grab the dildo still lying behind her on the floor.

“Here,” he says and puts the small pink object into her hand. “If you want to finish it, do it with this.”

She stares at him, eyes wide, fingers curling around the toy, her face flushed. And then she shakes her head, catching him off guard.

“No?” he whispers, raising his eyebrows. “Are you sure?”

Her breaths are loud through her nose as she holds his gaze, not saying anything.

He narrows his eyes. His first instinct is to grab the toy and shove it deep into her tight pussy himself, but he refrains, pushes her off his lap and stands, then grabs her wrist and drags her out of the closet. She stumbles after him and yelps when he throws her onto the bed.

Scrambling to her knees, her lips parted and trembling, she stares at him with her eyes wide in shock. He ignores her for now and walks to the bedside table, rummaging through the drawer until he retrieves a little teardrop shaped object, bright pink as well, smooth silicone with a little antenna.

A high-pitched squeal escapes her as he grabs her and pushes her onto her stomach, one large hand on her lower back, holding her down as she starts to squirm. “Stay still or this'll be more uncomfortable than it should be,” he tells her through gritted teeth. She stiffens, her breaths loud and frantic as she white-knuckles the sheets.

He moves the toy between her ass cheeks, pleased to see the butt plug is still in place. Nudging it slightly, he makes her wince. Pushing her legs apart a bit more with his knee, he slides her underwear aside, grabs her thigh to steady her and lets the small vibrator glide between her slick folds, and it's only a little push of his thumb before it slips into her, swallowed up by the tense muscles of her pussy. She lets out a strained whine. He wipes his palm over her mound gently, then tugs on the fat string until he finds the thicker bit at the end. The button clicks audibly when he presses it, and she gasps when the first vibrations shake her body. It's low, but still definitely overwhelming for her.

He puts her thong back in place and grabs her elbow, dragging her off the bed. Her legs are trembling, the low hum between her twitching thighs barely audible, but he hears it, sees her reaction to it, feels his blood pumping into his cock, the throbbing almost painful, and he wonders why he's taking his time with her. He could have had her last night, this morning, any time he wanted, fucked her hard and mercilessly, any hole he desired, and yet he waits, eases her into it, with a patience (or restraint) that surprises himself.

Sighing loudly, he grabs her hand and leads her out of the bedroom, she follows him on shaking limbs, too stunned to protest now. They reach the open kitchen, and he grabs her waist and sets her on the island, hears the faint clanging noise when the base of her plug hits the marble top. Spreading her legs, he steps between them, braces one arm on either side of her, stares down at her darkly.

Her eyes are wide, glistening, shock and uncertainty on her face, but there's also a deep blush and a tightness to her lips as she fights the sensations pulsing through her small body. Her hands fidget between her legs, a nervous little gesture. He rips them away, tells her to sit on them. She does with a bit of hesitation as she watches him with bated breath. He leans in, lets his breath fan over her cheek, then kisses the corner of her mouth, and there's a jerk in her neck as she turns her head, trying to meet his lips.

He pulls away before that, exhaling through his nose. His hands move over her legs, thumbs brushing along her inner thighs until he pushes them against the damp fabric of her underwear. Her wetness seeps past it already, staining the white satin bit, and he licks his lips at the sight. His restraint is slipping, he can't help it, he can smell her arousal, and it's driving him insane.

In one swift motion he grabs her hip, pulls her to the edge and leans down to press his mouth to her inner thigh, quickly kissing up the soft skin to where the little pink antenna pokes out of her. His free hand tugs at it, then he drags her panties aside and closes his lips around her folds. She yelps softly, body jerking against him. His fingers dig into her flesh, hold her in place as he laps up along her slit, gathers her sweet wetness on his tongue, drinks her up like a man parched.

She whimpers when he sucks on her clit, teeth grazing her soft, sensitive skin while he fumbles with the toy and presses the button a few more times, feeling the vibrations increasing, her hips jerking, thighs pressing against his head. Her noises are getting louder, helpless whines and mewls as she squirms on the counter, hands still squished under her legs while he continues to eat her out with a passion that he hasn't felt in ages.

Holding her with one hand, he tries to counteract her uncontrollable twitches, while his other hand rubs over her thigh before his index finger pokes at her entrance, following the toy inside. It's thrumming hard against her tense muscles, and he pushes it around a little with his finger before he finds the right spot, and that's when she really wails, body spasming against him, the heels of her feet thudding loudly into the cabinet as she tries to ground herself somehow.

He holds the toy pressed to her g-spot, still sucking on her clit, eyes moving up to watch her lose it in front of him. She's arching her back, head tilted upwards, chest pushed out, arms trembling before she can't keep her composure any longer and pulls her hands from under her legs and grabs his hair, two sets of small fingers with an iron grip that surprises him. Either to push him away or hold him right there, he isn't sure. Whatever the case, he lets her, gives her that one moment of control.

Her walls tighten around the toy and his finger, rhythmic clenching, her orgasm is so close, she's right on the edge, and it's that moment that he hooks his finger around the toy and pulls it out, leaning back, slipping from her suddenly limp fingers, and leaves her throbbing and panting, watches her deflate as her orgasm slips away again. A whine escapes her, and she falls backwards onto the counter, body convulsing without release, hiding her flushed face behind her shaking hands.

He straightens himself, licks his lips and then his finger, puts the vibrating toy on the counter before he turns it off. She's sobbing now, overwhelmed and left hanging. Poor thing. But it's not over yet.

Hooking his hands under her arms, he hoists her off the counter and pushes her down on her knees in front of him. She's too surprised to react, slowly lowers her hands and looks up at him, tears streaming down her red cheeks. Without a word or command, he unbuckles his belt and opens his pants, then snaps his fingers at her. Despite her trembling state, she follows the order instantly, automatically, that inborn desire to please stirring within her, when her small hands move up to push his pants and underwear down enough to free his erection.

The initial touch is almost enough to push him to the edge and over, but he braces himself, puts his hands on his hips and watches her as she closes her fingers around his length, slowly stroking up and down like he's shown her. Her eyes stay on him, watching him closely, and he tilts his head, pressing his lips into a thin line, a slight furrow between his eyebrows. He sees her swallowing, and barely a second later, her lips brush against his hot skin, the contact enough to coax a little groan out of him.

He watches her closely as she moves her lips up and down his shaft, tongue licking along his bulging veins, circling his tip, flicking over his slit, before she opens her mouth and takes him deeper. She's a little hesitant, careful, one hand still on his girth, the other braced against his thigh as she slowly bobs her head, lips closed around his tip, cheeks hollowed, the little suction really tempting his self-control. He wants her to find her own pace, get better on her own, learn to pleasure him properly, but he also really wants to fuck her throat and make her choke on his cock. The struggle is real.

His hands move to her head, a gentle little caress, fingers sliding through her hair, slowly nudging her closer, she shifts on her knees, the hand on his thigh pulling her into him. Her eyes are closed now, and he can see tears forming under her lashes as she keeps moving her head back and forth, the hand that's tight around his girth keeping her from taking him deeper. He feels her warm mouth, that little tongue flicking around his tip, hot and wet, sucking softly, almost meditatively, and he can't help it, he bucks his hips slightly against her, his cockhead poking into her cheek when she turns her head with a little muffled whine.

One of his hands moves down to grab her chin, holding her in place, head slightly tilted, as he repeats the same motion, pushing into her mouth, watching her cheek bulge. He hasn't noticed it before, but she's a natural at keeping her teeth out of the way, her jaw opened wide enough to allow him to slip in and out fairly easily. Her eyelids flutter open, and she meets his gaze, her eyes glistening, pupils dilated more than he has expected. She's enjoying this, huh?

He smirks at her, moves her head a little and tilts her chin up before he pumps his hips a little harder against her, more of his cock slipping into her small mouth. She stiffens, both hands now gripping the fabric of his pants, bracing, a sliver of panic in her eyes. He watches her closely, the grip on her chin hard as he concentrates, holds back, fights the urge to just fuck her cute little face. His breaths are quick and loud through his nose.

She holds still, doesn't fight it, and he uses that submission to move faster and eventually slips deeper, feeling his tip prodding the back of her throat. She gags almost immediately, a sudden reflex, her body convulsing against him, fingers digging into his legs, and he lets her pull back with a deep cough, saliva dripping from her lips. But he only lets her relax for so long, before he pushes his cock back into her mouth, deeper, to that spot once more, and she gags again, spit filling her mouth, coating his tip, yet this time he holds her head in place, and she lets out a pained little howl, muffled but clearly distressed.

Sighing, he grips her hair and pulls her back again, lets her catch her breath, swallow the excess spit. Tears stream down her face, her eyes are red, eyebrows furrowed, a helpless expression mixed with something like indignation looking up at him. A low laugh escapes him, and he grips her chin and pulls her back, cock slipping into her mouth, her tongue scraping along the underside, frantic little breaths through her nose, warm on his skin.

“Relax,” he tells her, and strangely enough it's that command that lets him slip deeper, past her gag reflex, further into her tight throat. It's only a few seconds though before she gags yet again, fingernails sinking into his legs, that little uncontrollable twitch as her body fights the new sensation of having her throat stuffed. She gurgles, desperate to breathe, too panicked to relax anymore. He pushes her away, and she splutters, spit and precum flying from her trembling lips, her shoulders shaking.

It takes all of him to loosen his grip on her, but when he lets go of her chin and her hair, inhaling deeply, she looks up almost surprised. Bracing his arms on the counter behind her, he closes his eyes, fighting the urge to make her choke again. That feeling when her throat tenses around his tip, squeezes him, it's something he enjoys a little too much, almost as much as watching her suffer through it, with her tears streaming down her face and her hands digging into his legs, that desperate struggle for control.

He'll force that urge right out of her, soon. Another time.

“Suck,” he grunts instead, standing still as he leans over her.

She resumes her ministrations, one hand around his girth, pumping and stroking, while she closes her lips around his tip again, sucking and licking it, keeping it far away from the back of her throat. She's shaky and sloppy, her wet slurping noises echoing through the room, her body still trembling, but she somehow manages to bring him right to the edge after all. He feels his balls tightening, his stomach tensing up, his cock throbbing in her hold. His hands itch, clenched into fists on the counter, his body shivering. So close. So fucking close...

A deep groan escapes his throat, and he leans back abruptly, grips her hair and pulls her off him, a sharp inhale coming from the girl beneath him. Her eyes are wide as she looks up at him, and he just ignores her, hooks his hands around her elbows and pulls her to her feet. She's that tiny body he can manhandle however he wants, and she ends up on her stomach on the counter, short legs dangling off the edge, feet kicking before he cages her in, one hand on her lower back, the other moving straight to the little shiny knob sitting between her plump ass cheeks.

Before she can comprehend what's happening or try to fight him, he drags her panties aside and pulls the plug out with a plop, puts it on the counter with a clang, before he grips his throbbing cock and pushes the tip against her sphincter. She lets out a surprised wail, her hands reaching back to swat him away, but he only grabs them and bends her arms behind her back, held by one large hand. She still struggles as he pushes further, forcing his tip deeper. He doesn't have time to prepare her properly, he's close to exploding.

She whines, writhing on the counter despite his unrelenting hold, and he watches her tight muscles give way to him, the grip almost as good as her tensing throat. His crown slips in, and he stops, letting it rest there as he strokes his shaft hard and fast, until he feels that tension finally dissolve. He comes with a deep grunt, arching his head back, feeling his cock throb and twitch in his hand and in her ass.

Spurt after spurt shoots into her tightness, filling her up until the first drops seep past the tight ring of muscles that clench around him involuntarily as she squirms helplessly, sobbing softly. When he relaxes against her, shoulders sagging, the grip on her arms loosening, he wishes he'd prepared her better, made her more pliant, open her up properly to take more of him. But this'll do for now. Once the twitching subsides, he gently pulls his cock out, watching her ass gape for a moment, his thick seed slipping out almost immediately.

He pushes it back in, feeling her tense muscles close around his finger. Then he grabs the plug and brings it back into position, holding her down again as she starts squirming more, the cold metal slipping into place, plugging up his warm cum. He exhales deeply once he is done, and when he lets go of her and steps back, he can't help but slap her plump cheek once for good measure.

She sobs louder, but remains lying on her stomach, legs dangling off the edge, immobile, all the fight gone from her body. He watches her as he puts his spent dick back into his pants. “What a good girl you are,” he whispers, noticing a wave of goosebumps rippling over her skin. His hands are on her round rear, gently sliding up and down, thumbs teasing between the cheeks. He fixes her thong, nudges the plug, smirks when she flinches at the motion.

Then he grabs her waist and pulls her off the counter, turning her so he can scoop her up into his arms. Despite her reluctance and the fact that she's still crying softly, she leans against him, needy little fingers digging into the collar of his shirt. No matter how hard she fights him, fights the sensations and experiences he gives her, she is clearly craving this, his attention, the care he gives her afterwards, the gentle moments after however rough he treats her.

It's a good dynamic. It'll work, he's sure. She will be absolutely perfect.

He carries her into the bedroom, carefully putting her down on the bed. She immediately rolls onto her side, knees pulled up to her chest, wiping at her wet face, avoiding his gaze as he watches her closely. When he leans down, she flinches, but he only grabs the edge of the blanket and drapes it over her small body.

“Rest now,” he tells her, straightening back up. “I'll order us some food.”

TWO 🟥 THREE 🟥 FOUR

End notes: Just a little side note on where this story is set: it could be literally anywhere (where there are skycrapers or a downtown area with taller buildings). I did not have a specific place in mind, could be any major American city, could be a bigger European city, anywhere you like to think of. It doesn't really matter anyway. (And if it is set in America, just imagine his club to be one of those more lax ones where the drinking age isn't 21 or at least nobody cares about it.)

Also, you may have guessed it, but our male protagonist is a little bit more than just a nightclub owner. I won't go into too many details, just know he's influencial, if you'd like to call it that. And definitely intimidating enough for anyone to bow before him, not just our poor girl who might just be a little in over her head at this point.

Thank you for reading! Next chapter on Monday!

TAG LIST: @qmsvpx @cyan1decandy @bimbos-are-angels

AO3 / / / MASTERLIST

CHAPTER / / / ONE◾TWO◾THREE◾FOUR◾FIVE◾

SIX◾SEVEN◾EIGHT◾NINE◾️TEN◾ELEVEN

#ao3 original work #dead dove do not eat #dom/sub #d/s dynamic #older man younger woman #size difference #praise k!nk #modern au #joel miller smut #supernatural smut #dean winchester smut #arthur morgan smut #simon ghost riley smut #cod smut #original fiction

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animasola86 · 4 months

Text

SMUT DRABBLES*: Toy

A/N: Another snippet of a smut scene, *a little more than a drabble, but oh well, it kept evolving. Again, you can imagine any character here! This time, we have some oral sex, deepthroating, masturbation, edging and a little dom/sub dynamic.

WARNING: NSFW! Explicit sexual content! // WORDS: 689 // AO3

He's given her a toy to practice with.

It's big, looks like his cock, can be suctioned to surfaces. It's intimidating.

She's kneeling in front of it, imagines she's sitting between his legs, arms folded behind her back. Eyes closed, tongue extended, exploring the stiff ridges, round edges, hard, cold material. Not the same.

It's better when it's covered in her saliva, warmer, but it's not him, doesn't twitch and throb, there are no groans and grunts, no hand gripping her hair, guiding her head, forcing it deeper.

It's all her. She sucks on it, hollows her cheeks, slurping it into her mouth, tongue flicking around it. Eyes closed, imagining him, remembering his scent, his taste, his dominating presence.

She pushes her head down on it. It's so rigid, too hard, unyielding. She forces on, tongue flat against it, lips strained, back of her throat. Her body jerks when she gags around it, coughs, splutters, keeps going. Eyes watering, can't breathe, imagines his big hands on her head, pushing down.

It's in her throat, she's dizzy, there's so much spit, no precum, only her. No air. She holds it, hears his voice in her memory. “Good girl.” Back and forth, head bobbing, tip on her tongue, tip in her throat, up and down, in and out.

There's no release, no thick creamy cum filling her mouth, dripping down her throat, filling her belly. Just spit and tears. She practices until she almost faints, fighting the gag reflex, getting better, wanting to make him proud.

She's drenched once she's done, sweat, spit, tears, arousal. When she forces herself to stop, she falls over, hands between her trembling thighs. Fingers not enough. The toy is off the wall and slips into her with ease. She's shaking, can barely hold it, wants him to hold it, push it in and out, mercilessly, ignoring her whines. Forcing her to the edge.

“Not yet, baby girl.”

His voice is in her head, so close, so warm. She fights the pleasure trying to devour her, pulls it out, pants, pushes it back in, always close. She's whimpering, crying and sobbing, pleading with her eyes squeezed shut.

“You may come.”

Relief. Release. Exploding pleasure, body convulsing, hips off the ground, thighs pressed together, shaking, gasping, coming so hard she's seeing stars. The toy is forced back in.

“Again.” She obeys, keeps going, pushing further. All for him, through tears and hand cramps and body spasms. Mouth wide open, gasping for air, for reprieve.

Her head is being lifted, supported by strong hands, his scent fills her nostrils, something warm on her face, bent back, neck tilted, upside down. Warm and heavy and soft. Him.

“Keep going.” Fingers cramping around the toy, imitating his cock, and the real thing slips into her gaping mouth, straight into her throat. She doesn't gag, doesn't open her eyes, feels her throat bulging, feels full on both ends. Content, satisfied. Sucks around him as he moves his hips against her face, in and out, tip on her tongue, tip squished in her tight throat.

“Gag.” She does, body convulsing, cunt clenching, spit and precum in her mouth. She's so dizzy. “Good girl.”

The reward comes with a groan, a grunt, a jerk of his hips, tightening balls slapping against her nose. Release. The toy is forced out, muscles tense, fluttering, her hands and thighs wet, a muffled, helpless moan from her stuffed throat. She can taste him as he fills her mouth, rewards her for her effort. Warm, sticky, thick, slipping down her aching throat, gulp, gulp, gulp.

The pressure is gone, he remains, his taste on her tongue, heavy in her belly. His hand on her sweaty face, caressing, wiping away the remnants of her devotion, a thumb pressing against her quivering lip.

“Such a good girl,” he says, and she smiles softly, tiredly, eyelids too heavy to open. “Now turn around. We gotta practice on the other hole today.”

A deep shiver, instant tension, anticipation. She scrambles to her feet, turns, positions herself, presents, ready for more practice. For him.

“Yes, sir.”

MASTERLIST // AO3 // ORIGINAL WORKS

MORE SMUT DRABBLES:

A Steamy Shower

Car Inspection

Sleepy

Tension Relief

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emmcfrxst · 3 months

Text

you’d think that being an outlaw and having been with other women before would lessen the impact a peek of your bare skin has on arthur, but it really doesn’t. as soon as you bare yourself to him— even if it’s just a flash of a soft, bare leg, a peek between the valley of your breasts or the dip of a shoulder— arthur starts fumbling immediately, ears turning red and mouth going dry. he’ll chastise himself, embarrassed by his lack of restraint because he’s a grown man for god’s sake, he’s not a hormonal teenager anymore; but if you do it on purpose—and you always let him know when you do with a sly, wicked little smile he wishes to kiss off of your lips— he immediately feels his heart beating faster, ears ringing as he focuses on the part of you that’s exposed to his hungry eyes, cock straining against the coarse material of his riding pants— he’ll indulge you in this little cat and mouse game for a bit more, already thinking about the way your warm, wet cunt is going to feel around his cock when he finally takes you after you break the last of his (surprisingly) solid patience

#RARE dom-ish arthur post on emmcfrxst dot tumblr dot com #this cat and mouse game is one of the only times arthur exudes any sort of raw dominance during sex: he usually lets himself drown in the #feeling of your body against his; too blissed out and too eager to please you to careor even think about taking control #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan imagine #arthur morgan smut #rdr2 smut #rdr2 imagine #red dead redemption 2 smut #red dead redemption 2 imagine

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pandorasfavorite · 3 months

Note

heyyyy can i request a dom x reader where you call him papi while yk and he fucks your brains out? thankssss

Hush

AN: he was giving daddy right here ^^^^

“I know baby, I know”, his voice squeaks in a uncharacteristic whine. You couldn’t help but slowing down the rapid movement of your hips to tease him to the brink of tears; just to take what’s yours. “Yea? It was kind of hard to tell when she landed on top of you”, you clenched around his aching cock making Dominik squirm. “Just…like…this”, you announced every word; taking every inch of him with ease. With your hands splayed carelessly against his check and your doe eyes blinking down at him, Dominik truly struggled to sit up.

With every bounce and breathless pant that spewed from your mouth; he felt closer to going insane and taking control. He felt as if he was about to explode; the warmth and smell of you captivating his entire existence in that very moment. Dominik’s throat constricts the second he feels you clench around him, therefore his resolve breaks. “Baby, baby I swear on everything I don’t even think about her…fuckkkk just like that Mami”, his head tilts back and his fingers press indents into your hips.

Dominik looked and felt spent, his hair was sticking to his forehead and his cock was leaking precum so deep inside of you that his main thought was to fill you up with all of his cum… to brand you as his. Dominik’s eyes rolled back as your tongue slid into his mouth, his mind still reeling over the idea of you pregnant with his kid. His mouth could barely begin to even move against yours with the same vigor. Instead it was the same repetitive grunt and his fumble of dirty words.

“I wanna cum inside”, his eyes opened while pulling back from your glossy lips, “please please sweetheart, let me cum, full you up till your fucking pregnant”. He swallowed roughly and moved his hands to cup your breasts firmly, “want these huge and leaking, come on princesa, make me a papi”. Your mouth fell open with an offhand moan, from the way he begged for responsibility…for devotion to you. But most of all from the way his cock pulsed and twitched at the idea. Your head fell forehead and you caught his eye, not daring to stop the roll of your hips despite how close you felt to coming undone on his cock; your voice cracked, “what about Liv?”.

Dominik’s eyes darkened, “don’t even say her name, say mine” his tongue licked at his bottom lip, “say it” he whispered a demand to be followed. You laid against him, stopping all movement and just feeling him inside of you, “make me cum papi”. Dominik gasped and spilled into you instantly with a strangled moan, “holy fuck, shit girl that’s- that’s”. He tossed his head back; not bothering to move inside you; though he was still half hard inside of you. The ringing of you muttering papi in his ear keeping him hard for you.

You merely giggled at the boyish display; not expecting him to fall apart immediately. “You like that papi?”, you wiggled against his cock; Dominik dug his nails into your hips without meaning to. A disgruntled groan falling from his lips once more, “I won’t last long if you keep that up” he warns and jolts his hips up. Your body bounces as the tip of his cock brushes that special place inside of you.

Dominik takes control and rolls you onto your back, “that’s the idea, hurry up so I can cum”. Dominik wasted no time, slamming his cock far inside of you, your body jumping and jolting with every smack of his hips against your ass. Within minutes you felt the burning sensation within the bottom of your stomach, Dominik knew well enough to rub your clit with thumb. You come undone moaning his name then a soft, “feel good papi?” You ask innocently; knowing well and good how that made Dominik.

He sunk into you; so deep his cum didn’t spill out of you at all. Just the way he wanted

#dominik mysterio #dominik mysterio x reader #dominik mysterio fanfiction #dominik mysterio x you #dom dom #dominik mysterio fluff #dominik my bbg #wwe #dominik mysterio smut #dominik mysterio x reader smut #dominik smut #dom smut #liv morgan #daddy issues

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mggsv · 11 months

Text

Daddy! (Hotchner Ver.)

gn!reader x aaron hotch hotchner (18+)

summary: Jealousy gets the best of Hotch, and he just can’t help himself

warnings: dom!hotch, hard dom!hotch, sub!reader, daddy!hotch, spanking, degrading, blindfolding, choking, crying

“I’m only going to start over and add five more. Is that what you want?” His hand rubbed over the already bruised spot. You panted, legs shaking. You couldn’t see, the blindfold wet with your tears. Yet your sex throbbed. His thumb pressed your hole, his cooing sounding more like sarcasm as it slipped in. “Answer me.”

“No…No Sir-“ You gasp feeling that familiar sting on your ass. “Fifteen..” You whine. Your legs moved uncomfortably around his legs, nothing to balance them on as they dangled. He had you bent over his knees while he spanked you. Twenty! Could you believe it? He’s never went that high before. It all started at work. You went to visit Aaron before you headed off to work, and when Morgan did his usual flirting. You became just as close with the team as Aaron did- so it wasn’t an issue with you, when he did the same to Garcia. You flirted back playfully and even hugged him before leaving. You didn’t see an issue but it made Hotch furious, even after Morgan teased him for it. He didnt show it, but once he showed up to your apartment you knew.

“Fuck-!” you cried out at another smack. “What was that?” He hums, hands going to lift your hips a bit. He balanced you out well, everytime. “Twenty..F-Four.” You squeezed your thighs together, your ass imprinted with the outline of his fingers.

“Have you learned your lesson?” He moves your hair back, grabbing the back of your neck. You take a deep breath, nodding quickly. “Yes sir.”

“Why don’t I believe you?” He raises a brow. Oh that sneaky fuck.. always toying with you. He picks you up while he stands, laying you down on the bed. He flips you over onto your stomach. Your senses were heightened, the blindfold dark. You panted loudly into the soft duvet. You hear the sound of his belt clinking, and it slipping out of the pants sooner later.

“Daddy…?” You whimper. Aaron chuckles. You felt his presence behind you, lifting your hips and spreading your legs. Your sex dripped. His cock rubbing up against your hole. “Is this what you wanted? Purposely slutting around in my face just to be punished?” He groans, entering you slowly, just the tip.. Oh how you moaned…

“Answer me- Come to think of it, I’ve said this more than once today haven’t I?”

“Yes sir..” You shudder, back arching. You moan feeling him slip further into you. You hear the clink of his belt before your arms are pulled back. “Daddy-“

“Shhh..You have an awful lot to say for someone who doesn’t have the upper hand right now.” You felt the belt wrap around your wrists, pulling them together. With a pull, Aaron’s cock slips fully into you. “Fuck!” you gasp, your arms being pulled back, back arching. You felt somewhat scared. You couldn’t see, and now you couldn’t touch anything. But boy did he fill you up so well..

“You think Morgan will fuck you like this?” His hips snap forward, and back- pulling out to the tip. “No sir-“

“You think Morgan can have you on your knees taking his cock like a slut?” he tugs at the belt.

“N-No sir!” your eyes roll, you tried to catch your breath. Your orgasm hitting you hard. He fucks you through it just the way you loved..The way he fucked you hard, slowly. The way he spanked you everytime you took a second longer to answer him- everything felt so good.. At some point he changed positions, with his leg kneeling on the bed as he held your head down into the duvet. How you loved it when he whispered just how much of you belonged to him.

“Who do you belong to?” He leans down to you neck, biting down gently.

“You Daddy.”

“Damn right.”

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blue-babygirl · 1 year

Text

Energy Drink

Pairing: Derek Morgan x college student! Reader

Type: Fluff/Sweet (I think?)

Description: You know you are not supposed to be drinking energy drinks. Derek restricts them for a reason. But it's not like he is around to find out at the moment.

Warnings: stern but loving Derek, somewhat dominant Derek and that's pretty much it. Let me know if I need to add anything.

You stare at the energy drinks in the vending machine near your lecture hall, contemplating whether to actually get one or not. You can practically feel the single-eyebrow-raised stare that Derek would give you if he were there.

Actually, if he were here, you wouldn't even be standing here contemplating this decision. After all, there is a reason Derek doesn't approve of you drinking energy drinks.

But as you hear your friends entering the hallway, you make up your mind and make quick work of getting your previously favorite flavor from the drinks available, checking to see how much time you have before the professor locks the door as your friends get to you and you make your way to into the hall, taking your seats in the middle.

Before you know it, you have emptied the can, recycled it, got done with work, hyper-fixated on cleaning the kitchen, cleaned the kitchen, and are distractedly working on 3 essays at the same time when Derek gets home. You run over to him before practically throwing yourself in his arms, eternally thankful for how strong he is as you realize that you could have both fallen and gotten hurt.

“Someone’s happy?” Derek looks at you questioningly as you cling to him, making you nod into your hiding spot, his neck.

You can feel him chuckle as he holds you while putting away his things near the entrance. The keys into the bowl, his wallet near the bowl, his shoes near the rack, and his briefcase under the table. You can tell everything he is doing as he does it without even looking up from your hiding spot. It’s probably the energy drink.

“How was your day gorgeous? And why are you up so late? Don’t you have work in the morning?” He questions as he walks into the living room and sees the mess of snacks at the kitchen counter surrounding your laptop in stark contrast to the surprisingly squeaky clean kitchen.

But instead of getting answers like he expected, he looks down to see you staring at him with wide eyes before asking what time it was. That’s when it clicks to him.

He carries you around as he closes your laptop against your protests before carrying your pouty butt to your bedroom.

“I was still working on that essay. You can’t just close my laptop like that!”

Your complaints fall on deaf ears as he finally puts you down on the counter of your ensuite bathroom.

“Those essays, not that essay. And I saved them before closing your laptop sweet cheeks. Now, care to tell me about that energy drink you had?” Derek folds his arms as he gives you the look. You know, the look. Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, you are bad at lying when it comes to him. Or honestly, the BAU in general. But in this case, that doesn’t even matter because you don’t think before you answer.

“How did you know?” You look at him with big eyes and a pout as you realize that you just told him that you had one.

“Because, sweetheart,” Derek smiles despite knowing he should be scolding you before nuzzling your nose with his, “I know you.”

You pout but give him a quick peck before he pulls away. “I was tired before a 4-hour lecture with the bitc- witchy professor.” You quickly correct yourself, not wanting to remember the task you had given him as he tried to stop his smirk at your almost mistake.

“You have to help me stop swearing! Please, Derek!!” You pleaded, but he still seemed unsure. “How exactly will I be helping you?” He tilted his head and raised an eyebrow suggestively, making you blush but nod. This took him a little by surprise. “You have to use your words Y/N, you know I won’t agree to anything unless you clarify yourself and what you want.” You blush as you confirmed verbally to what you had both talked about with just your eyes not even minutes ago.

“Anyways, I was exhausted so I thought, why not.” You shrug.

“You know why not.” Derek gives you that look. “You get way too hyper for way too long sweeetie. You usually can’t even keep track of time, like today. I got home at around 3:25 a.m. Y/N. You have to wake up at 7 for work and now you are gonna have a migraine. Did you even eat dinner? Or lunch? Anything other than those snacks?”

You are honestly surprised about how late it is, you didn’t even feel the time passing. You try to remember if you ate anything for lunch or dinner but you don’t even remember getting or eating the snacks Derek mentioned. You cringe at the thought of the migraine you are going to have along with the fact that you definitely disappointed Derek and that you are not even sleepy.

Derek sighs after staring at you thinking for a few minutes, making you realize he is still there. At this point, you at least have the courtesy to look ashamed.

“Here is what we are going to do now. You are going to get out of these clothes and get in the shower while I get a few things done. Okay baby?” You nod quickly before making grabby hands at him. He obliges and comes closer for you to give him a hug. He gives you one last kiss on your forehead before leaving you in the bathroom.

“Wet your hair too!” You hear Derek yell from somewhere in the house as you make your way into the shower after undressing and getting it set up.

Not long after you get your hair wet thoroughly, Derek comes into the bathroom and joins you in the shower. After giving you a head massage as he washed your hair and helped you clean up with you returning the favor, you step out of the shower together. You let him cover you in his towel while he uses yours.

After getting changed into some pajamas and having him partially dry your hair with a towel, you get in bed together, finally tired and ready to fall asleep.

“I emailed your manager that you won’t be able to get to work until noon tomorrow.” Derek mumbles tiredly as he pulls you flush to him and snuggles you close.

You turn around in his arms before pecking his lips softly and mumbling out a thank you before you snuggle yourself as close to him as you can. You feel him kiss your forehead making you smile softly.

The last thing he hears before your breathing evens out is a sleepily mumbled, “No more energy drinks.”

#criminal minds #derek morgan #derek morgan x y/n #derek morgan x you #derek morgan x reader #derek morgan x gn!reader #derek morgan x fem!reader #derek morgan fanfic #derek morgan fanfiction #derek morgan fluff #platonic dom derek #fluff

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bitin-and-barkin · 3 months

Text

Intertwined Fingers

What would the aftermath of your so called death look like?

Warnings: Arthur Morgan x Reader, Gender neutral reader, he's going a bit insane ngl, implied self harm, dog symbolism, smut, fun fact: Pomade was commonly used as lube in the 1800s, Dom reader, sub Arthur, soft sex (I finally did the soft sex thing), No mentions of your genetalia, you just jerk off Arthur because you wanted to take care of him tonight, sorry probably not what the people were looking for but its fine, weirdly described sex to the point where it's not even porn, just an art piece, more yandere shit in the next part but you can smell the start of it here, overuse of the word Intertwined

READ MORE UNDER THE CUT + Pt 2 to another story, Pt 1 here, Pt 3 here

--------------------------------------------------------------------

That night in the hotel room, Arthur sheepishly asked if he could stay with you for the night.

You, of course, accepted.

After climbing into bed, he couldn't keep his hands off of you.

Well, he usually can't, always clinging to you like a koala bear. But especially not tonight.

Rubbing his hands up and down your chest. Feeling the grooves in your skin. The curves and marks. Wrapping his arms around you, nuzzling his nose into your neck.

Making sure all of his touches were gentle, as not to cause you pain.

Feeling your stomach rise and fall as you slept peacefully. Hearing your heartbeat.

Still softly sobbing, keeping it quiet so you could sleep, not daring to let go.

He felt like sinking into you in that moment.

For the first time in ages, Arthur slept peacefully. He could sleep for ages with your hands intertwined with his.

When you tried to get up in the morning, he pretended to be asleep so you'd stay with him for longer. When you tried to get up anyways?

He pretty much begged you to stay with him.

You ended up laying in bed for another hour before you finally were able to leave.

While taking you back to camp you told him about the doctors. How you already went to the one in Valentine, but they could only do so much.

He said he was gonna get a doctor to come here and properly check you out again, as he knew one that owed him some favors.

Worries of discreetness be damned.

Once you had gotten back to camp, people stared at you like they were looking at a ghost.

In fact, Sean fainted when he first saw you. They thought you were dead.

You even looked the part.

Hours had passed and it was sundown. Arthur had brought in a doctor named "Alphonse Renaud." By now, he had been in there for hours, Arthur right by his side.

His hands were soaked in blood, helping the doctor deal with everything they did to you.

The sick fucks had put nails in your legs.

Nails.

Your back was ripped to shreds, with some marks looking even like they came from whips.

They were irritated too, and Dr. Renaud guessed that they had poured whiskey into your wounds.

He was wondering how you managed to let him hold you the night before without wincing and whining out in pain.

Just imagining how much pain you must've been in, when he thought that he needed to hold you?

How much pain you must've been in when he was asking you on the ride back home if you felt okay?

He felt like the worst shit on earth.

Alphonse estimated you'd live a lifetime of numbness and pain on certain, scarred parts.

At least you weren't in pain right now.

You were currently passed out from Morphine after Arthur yelled at Swanson to help alleviate your pain, when he heard you whimper as the doctor worked.

He silently cried into his hands next to your bedside after he heard your shallow breaths.

He was scared. So fucking scared.

A 3 days passed, with Arthur watching your every movement like a hawk. He was around you 24/7. All other priorities just seemed to fade into the background.

You were fading in and out of consciousness. Going through fevers and hot flashes, scaring everybody at camp.

Whenever you were awake, you seemed to be in a trance. Muttering about things that weren't there, unable to recognize anybody. Not even your husband.

Arthur hadn't slept in that time either. Afraid that if he looked away for one second, the O'Driscolls would swoop up and take you away from him again.

He didn't even think of letting Kieran near you, your horse, or the tent you were in.

He got antsy when you got home, gaining an even shorter fuse to match. Doing everything to make the place more comfortable for you. Cleaning your bedsheets, changing your bandages. Gently talking to you about his day and asking about yours while you were asleep, that way if you woke up you wouldn't wake up alone.

Hosea insisted he needed rest. But every single time he went to bed, he couldn't sleep. Wracked with anxiety. Knowing you were just 15 feet away, safe and sound in your tent, yet still wondering where you were.

Wondering where his darling was.

He snuck into your tent later that night and sat down next to you. Coming down here just to make sure you were still breathing.

Watching your chest rise, your breaths were still as shallow as ever.

He had just gotten you back and he was already losing you again.

And with his coddling and touching, he had only made it worse.

He'd give anything to go back to the way things were.

Before you went on that shitty sniping job, god, what in fucking hell made Dutch think that was a good idea?

He'd give up all his things. He'd kill every O'Driscoll known to man. He'd break his own legs. He'd trade places with you. He'd kill himself.

Just for you to be okay.

He reached down, tracing his finger against scars that weren't there before.

He started talking softly to your sleeping body,

Saying how later he'll take you to the city and get you anything you want. He'll take you out dancing, or to the saloon, or to one of those new picture shows if you feel up to it.

How later he'll shoot Colm for what he did. Make his death slow, make him feel every ounce of pain you did. Doubled. He'll make Colm beg for mercy, then leave him to rot to death in some shithole.

How later, if that stupid Tahiti dream ever becomes realized, he'll settle down with you. Have a kid or two if you feel like it. As long as he can raise them with you.

Only you. Nobody but you.

How later, he'll build a mansion for you and you'd never have to be afraid of anyone hurting you ever again.

How he's so sorry that you had to come find him.

That you'd kill him if you died.

He heard the bed creak as he nervously chatted on and on.

Felt your fingers intertwining with his.

He turned to you, smiling.

You had awoken, and reached out to him.

He tucked your hair behind your ear.

There you were.

For the first time in a long time you were coherent. Aware. Unafraid.

And for the first time in a long time, you saw him clearly.

He took your hand and raised it to his lips, gently kissing your bruised knuckles. Asking how you felt as he did.

He looked... tired.

There were scrapes on his palms and hands, deep cutting scars. Going up and along his wrists and forearms.

Now that you think about it, when you first saw him again, his sleeves were rolled down.

He never rolled them down.

There were new gashes on his face. Along his lips and jaw. He was starting to look like John.

His cheeks were gaunt, and he had deep eyebags. As if they've been festering for months.

His hair was longer, a bit tangled too.

You're used to him being so broad, and while he still is, he looks almost underweight.

You took your other hand and reached up to his cheek, gently stroking it.

He leaned into your touch. He looked exhausted.

God, What had happened while you were gone?

He was resting his face on your hand as he held your other.

You gripped his jaw and pulled him close, softly placing a kiss on his lips.

And placing his free hand on yours, he returned it.

Bodies intertwining like a jigsaw puzzle.

He tried to pull away, wanting to give you air, but you pulled him even closer.

God, you were gonna be the death of him.

He pushed his hands under your shirt,

with you hastily undoing his belt.

Whispering to you,

"Darling, you're so pretty it hurts."

Pushing you to the bed,

placing kisses on your scars.

You pulled your hand away and placed them on his jeans, groping him through his pants.

His head whipped back, letting out a shaky moan.

Whimpering something unintelligible.

You were toying with his tits through his shirt.

Biting down, leaving hickeys along his neck.

Continuing to grope his dick, making him sport a tent in his pants.

And just looking into his eyes, and he had the look of a kicked puppy.

Just begging for you to properly touch him.

Unzipping his fly, his dick sprung out. Slapping against his stomach.

No wonder he had that look in his eyes. He'd follow you like a dog, and worship you like god. At least, it looked like he wanted to tonight.

You took his dick in your hand, pumping him up and down. Pressing your forehead against his, telling him to just relax, that you wanted to take care of him. Helping him take his shirt off as he whispered "Are you sure?" Asking you if you felt well enough to do this.

His breath hitching, he fumbled to untie his bandana before resorting to just rip the thing off entirely.

Peeling off his shirt just to feel you more. To touch you, as you pulled him close. Asking him to tell you just how much he missed you as pre-cum seeped out of his dick, slicking your palm.

You pulled forward and gently kissed his collarbone, licking your free hand and playing with his chest as you stroked him at a steady pace.

Biting down on his neck, his flesh soft between your teeth.

Only yours though. Only yours.

He slotted his head into your shoulder, and began to mumble, kissing your neck up and down.

Cradling your head in his palm.

Running his fingers across your bones, licking stripes against healed wounds.

To whimper and to whine, just like he did the day before.

Like a dog doing all the tricks it knew.

Fucking like two instruments playing in tune.

His eyes were glossed over, his hot breath puffing like smoke, and his words weren't making any sense anymore.

The sensual turning the sexual into the unintelligible, just repeating over and over,

I love you,

I love you.

People in camp always talked shit about Arthur, how he was "Van Der Linde's Bitch." His dog, broken in like a wild horse. Obedient, pliable, perfect. But they're giving credit to the wrong man.

It was all you. Only you, Only you.

He arched back on the bed, crying your name as he came. His seed splattering across his stomach, into your hands.

Begging you not to leave him ever again.

Not even once,

Not even once.

Pleasure sparked behind his eyelids like a gunshot.

You hushing him with silent kisses, telling him to quiet down.

Letting him rut and sputter into your hands like putty until he finally came completely undone, and the only noise was his labored breathing, panting.

His hands trailed up your thighs, eager to return the favor. But you gingerly grabbed his palms and brought them up to your lips.

Oh so gently kissing his knuckles, just like he did for you.

His eyes were still red from crying. Months of grief released in a week.

You pulled his face close, kissing him on the cheek.

Pulling him down into bed, slotting your hips in between his.

Sleeping together,

with your hands intertwined.

Should I keep this story going???

@yyiikes

#rdr2 #rdr2 x reader #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan #dom gn reader #dom reader #dom!reader #male yandere #sub men #rdr2 smut #arthur morgan rdr2 #rdr2 arthur #red dead redemption #red dead redemption 2 #smut #dog symbolism #soft sex #rdr2 dutch #rdr2 x you

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cosmicflw3rr · 6 months

Text

things we’ve never said.

dominik mysterio x fem!reader

summary: you and dom have been friends for as long as you can remember, but when he begins to distance himself from you, everything falls apart. will you crumble under the weight of it all and confess your true feelings to him?

A/N: I could not come up with a good title for thiss.. 😭 also this is my first time ever writing on here so lmk how you guys feel about itt.

you and dom have been close friends since you were young. growing up with parents in the WWE, you and him would hang out whenever your parents brought you to work.

throughout the years the two of you remained close, the both of you following in your parents footsteps and becoming wwe wrestlers. you and him becoming inseparable, since you got drafted to raw.

even though he was in the judgment day, and you were making a name for yourself, you always found a way to support and be there for each other.

as time passed, it hit you that dom was gradually drifting from you. the post-show hangouts you both used to have were replaced by solo nights in your hotel room, binging your favorite show.

and you traded in your late-night waffle house trips for early morning trips to the hotel gym, trying to clear your mind.

while the friendship you shared with dom started to fade, his connection with rhea only grew stronger, leaving you to deal with your thoughts.

you could feel yourself fading into the background, witnessing all the moments that once belonged to you and dom now being shared with her instead.

avoiding both of them had become your new routine, yet there was only so much you could do when your job meant crossing paths every week, making escape almost impossible.

but you held your own. there were times you’d run into dominik but you’d just ignore him and pretend you didn’t hear him.

you were doing your best to try and move on from the situation, but your attempts at ignoring reality only caused you pain.

when your paths would cross it was like your entire body was consumed in pain as you watched them be happy together even if it was just for a second.

you could try and hold yourself together all you want, but it felt like your heart was ripping apart every time you saw them.

you had been sitting backstage waiting for your time to go out to the ring, you had a match against becky lynch. you were just waiting for rhea to get done with her call out promo.

the air in the ring was tense from their ongoing feud, full of sharp words and taunts. you felt a twinge of nerves, not just for the match but because dom was always rhea's shadow, and tonight was no exception.

glancing at the screen, you saw rhea laying down her final words, with dom looming behind her like a puppy.

your leg instinctively started bouncing up and down, dreading the inevitable awkwardness that came with being anywhere near dom. It was just one of those things that made you wish you were anywhere else.

rhea's theme hit, and she strutted out of the ring, her and dom making their way backstage slowly, nibbling on your lip to find some calm. someone sat down in the seat next to you, but you were too wrapped up in your own head to notice.

a moment passed, then a familiar voice cut through, "hey, you okay?" you glanced over to find liv, a good friend of yours, looking at you with concern. you pulled yourself together and offered a small, convincing-enough smile.

“oh- yeah, I'm good," you responded, as much as you liked to think you had a good poker face you didn’t. and liv saw right through you.

"if its about the match don’t worry, you’ll kill it." she said slowly, a touch of uncertainty in her tone. "but something tells me that's not it."

releasing a breath you hadn't noticed you were holding, you asked with a hint of humor, "Is it that obvious?" liv was clued in on everything; you two had become closer ever since you and dom stopped talking. she had become your ride-or-die.

she just shrugged and said, "no, I just know things." as you rolled your eyes with a smile. right then, a crew member gave the five-minute warning. you rose to get moving, but liv called out to you. "y/n/n."

turning to face her, "everything's gonna be okay." you gave her a soft smile and sent a playful kiss her way before heading to the curtains.

as you approached, rhea slipped through them holding her title over her shoulder without a glance your way. but when dom passed by, his gaze found yours.

In that quick moment, your heart skipped a beat, time seemed to stop, stretching the seconds out endlessly. a series of unspoken questions and unresolved issues hovered in the space between you two. that look between you two spoke more than words ever could.

it was the first direct eye contact you'd made with him in weeks. and just like that, it was over, the moment ending as quickly as it had arrived.

he passed by, his gaze leaving you and locking on rhea, and that strange, churning sensation in your belly returned. It was puzzling, a feeling you couldn't quite name.

suddenly, your theme rung out. you took a breath placing yourself in your confident persona, you’d walked out to the ramp beaming that confident grin with your arms wide, you soaked up the the cheers of the crowd washing over you like a wave.

you found yourself forgetting about everything, right now it wasn’t about you. it was about your fans. and one thing you weren’t going to do was let your personal life interfere with your job.

strutting down the ramp, you exchanged grins and nods with the fans, their excitement mirroring your own. slipping between the ropes, you blew the audience a kiss before sauntering to your designated corner.

crouching, anticipation tingling through you, you waited for the signal.

ding! ding! ding!

The bell's ringing sent your heart racing—it was go time. you and becky lunged at each other, each fighting for control, neither of you letting up.

becky dashed toward the ropes, bouncing off with momentum, but you were ready and landed a superkick right to her face. she stumbled backward, and you quickly went for the your finisher, a ripcord flatliner. as soon as becky’s body hit the mat you pushed her shoulders down and went for the cover.

1! 2! 3!

your music echoed throughout the arena, signaling the end of the match. shifting off becky, you settled onto your knees, a cocky grin spreading across your face as you swept your hair back, basking in the applause. a quick swipe of your tongue over your teeth, and you rose to your feet, ready to soak it all in.

the referee walked up next to you, lifting your right hand high, the crowd's cheers roaring louder. when your hand eventually lowered, you took a moment to look around at the cheering fans before making your exit backstage.

as the curtain fell behind you, liv was there, her voice lilting with enthusiasm. "you did amazing!" she chirped, the melody of her praise ringing in your ears.

you grin was wide, a mix of relief lighting up your face. "thanks," you replied with a shrug. "how about grabbing drinks later?" you asked.

liv's expression was priceless, her mouth agape before she shot you a look that screamed, 'Is that even a question?'

"hell yea we should. want me to invite sam and nat?" she bounced back, her enthusiasm infectious.

you gave a nod, the exhaustion of the night seeping into your voice. "I don’t mind.” you admitted, feeling exhausted. “I just really need a drink." you admitted.

liv wrapped you in a comforting hug, her hand soothing your back. "you've earned it," she whispered, pulling away only to hold your gaze. "i have to shoot a backstage promo now, so I'll catch you tonight, okay?"

with a nod, you exchanged goodbyes, each heading your separate ways. as you walked through the arena backstage to get to the locker room, the post-match adrenaline still coursing through your veins.

turning a corner you suddenly bumped into someone. you looked up to see dom, your heart picked up its pace. the two of you looking at each other, after a moment of no words and eye contact you had to get out of there.

you managed a strained smile, thoughts whirling as you sought an escape. "sorry," you mumbled, already sidestepping away.

but dom's hand clasped your forearm, halting you. you glanced from his eyes to where he touched you. his hold was gentle, yet insistent, something you hadn’t felt in a while. It almost felt foreign to you. "wait, we need to talk," he said firmly, his gaze digging deep for an answer you weren't prepared to give.

the air thickened with his words, an unspoken acknowledgment that whatever was going on between the two of you couldn’t be ignored forever

your expression hardened, as you withdrew your arm from his grasp. "not now dominik," you told him, abandoning the nickname you usually used when talking to him.

dom's face was a picture of tension, his jaw clenched tight. "then when?" he pressed, his words hitting you hard. "when's the right time gonna be? why have you been avoiding me?" you could hear the sincerity in his voice, the raw need for an answer lingering in the air.

the words hit you like a hurricane, leaving you momentarily frozen, brows knitted together. "don't pretend you care now," you spat out, the words sharper than intended, as you finally faced your tangled emotions head-on.

dom looked taken aback. "what are you talking about?" he retorted, his guard up.

"you've been distant for weeks, but obviously, you didn't notice because you're too wrapped up with rhea, right?"

"that's not true, I—"

your heart pounding as you locked eyes with dom. "no—I've been there for you through everything, and now you just push me away for them, for her," you said, the hurt in your voice unmistakable.

dom looked taken aback, his own anger subsiding as he realized the depth of your pain. "push you away? that's not what I'm trying to do," he protested, but you cut him off.

"but it’s exactly what you did! god I-" you looked away from him as your eyes filled with tears. you bit your lip hoping to stop. you didn’t feel like crying in front of him.

the tears overwhelmed you, there were far to much that you couldn’t hide it. as you blinked the tears escaped, you hastily wiped them. you looked at him. “you pushed me away and it hurt-“ you told him your voice breaking.

“y/n/n-” dom’s features softened, you looked around trying to avoid looking at his eyes.

"and I hate feeling this way, and I wish I didn’t care but I do. because I'm in love with you, dom. I have been for so long." your words hung heavy in the air, and your eyes welled up, the tears you'd fought to keep at bay now tracing hot paths down your cheeks. "this sort of thing was never meant to happen," you said your voice breaking, a sob catching in your throat.

dom's anger dissolved and his arms were around you in an instant. "hey, hey, don't cry, I hate it when you cry." your arms instinctively wrapped around him, as your tears fell silently.

the hug was a deep, tight one, like he was holding you as if you were the only thing keeping him standing. no words were spoken, but the tension in your body melted away as you leaned into him, his mere presence calming your racing heart.

the hug seemed to stretch on forever, dom's hand gently threading through your hair as you rested your head against his chest, tears falling silently.

eventually, he drew back, cupping your cheeks as he met your gaze with tenderness, brushing away your tears and moving your hair out of your face gently. he missed you. so god damn much.

"I—y/n/n..." dom's voice wavered as he looked into your eyes, his emotions laid bare for you to see.

after a moment of silence, he spoke softly. "i've been wanting to tell you... but was so afraid of losing you and messing things up. i just..."

"i..." he spoke up again but stopped himself mid-sentence. "i've been avoiding you... because of the way i feel. and i thought if i tried to hide it and put some distance between us, it would go away."

his eyes bore into yours, making sure you were taking in everything he was saying. "i was wrong." your heart seemed to stop, leaving you momentarily speechless as you struggled to find the right words.

"i'm in love with you," he said.

his words hung in the air, lingering in the space between the two of you. he continued, “i was an idiot, and i thought if i kept us away, i could just make these feelings go away. but when i finally had some time to actually think... i realized i've loved you all along, and I'm done pretending like we can just be friends."

"i've never looked at anyone else the way I look at you, y/n/n." he murmured, his touch gentle against your cheek. "being with you just feels so natural. i can't hide how i feel anymore. please," his voice quivered, the words barely making their way out, "let me make things right."

dom's hand gently cradled your jaw, tilting his head as he gazed into your eyes. "can I..." he started, his voice trailing off.

you nodded, your eyes flickering between his and his eyes and his lips. "yes."

his lips met yours in a tender kiss, the embrace deepening as you both became lost in the moment.

it was a moment you had yearned for, and as your hearts raced and time seemed to stand still, it felt like a dream come true.

dom pulled back after a moment, his lips trailing away from yours. you could tell he was still processing the moment, his breaths coming in quick and shallow spurts as he tried to regain his composure.

“i’ve been wanting to do that for so long,” his eyes studying you as he took in every detail.

you smiled softly, feeling a warmth spread through your chest at his words. "me too." you admitted,

dom's eyes lit up at your confession, a grin spreading across his face. Without another word, he leaned in to capture your lips in another kiss, this one more confident and eager than the last. you melted into his embrace, feeling happiness wash over you.

dom rested his forehead against yours. "i don't want to wait any longer," he whispered, his voice filled with sincerity. "I want to be with you, in every way possible."

your smile widened, every moment, every obstacle, had led you to this point, and in that moment, it all felt worth it. "that's all I've ever wanted too," you replied, your voice filled with emotion.

dom smiled and engulfed you in a warm hug, lifting you off the ground and twirling you around. your joyful squeal filled the air as he gently set you down, peppering kisses on your lips that made you smile. "let's grab some food, I'm starving," he suggested.

"of course you are," you teased, playfully rolling your eyes at his mock-offended expression. he shook his head, then wrapped his arm around your shoulder as the two of you started walking.

the two of you reached catering, you noticed liv and natalya at a table and subtly intertwined your hands with dom's. "um, i'll catch up with you in a sec?" you said, releasing his hand to approach the table.

taking a seat, liv and natalya exchanged knowing glances as they looked at you with anticipation. "hey, girlie," natalya greeted with a playful smirk. "i'm ready for those drinks tonight!" she added, with a little shimmy that made liv burst into laughter.

as the excitement filled the air, you hesitated before breaking the news. "about that..." the two women turned their heads to look at you, their expressions shifting to curiosity. "sooo, how about we rain check on the drinks tonight?" you suggested, catching liv's curious gaze as you awaited their response.

"why?" she inquired, prompting you to glance back at dom, who was already heading towards the table. bracing yourself, you sat back as he casually draped his arm over your chair.

turning your attention from him to liv and natalya, who looked utterly shocked, you nervously chuckled. "yeah," you admitted.

"i told you!" liv exclaimed loudly, laughing and sharing a glance with natalya. confusion lingered as you and dom exchanged looks before refocusing on the two women in front of you. natalya shook her head, putting her head in her hands. "I told you," she muttered.

liv sprang up, doing a little dance with a bright smile on her face. "did you guys bet on us?" you asked, a hint of amusement in your voice.

liv stopped her dance, still beaming. "nope, just might've challenged natalya on when you two would make up," she revealed.

you rolled your eyes, laughing. "of course you did." you guys began talking about the upcoming pay-per-view event. focused in the conversation, you felt a sudden warmth as dom's hand found yours under the table.

glancing down at your intertwined hands resting on his lap, you couldn't help but smile at the sweet gesture. despite the subtle display of affection, you decided to refocus on listening to liv and natalya.

this is exactly where you wanted to be.

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adamscoles · 28 days

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Liv completing her revenge tour

#wwe #wweedit #wrestlingedit #liv morgan #rhea ripley #dom mysterio #finn balor #jd mcdonagh #the judgement day #*#requested

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domysterio · 2 months

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I HATE YOU LIV. ARE YOU STUPID. ARE YOU DEAF.

#dominik mysterio #rhea ripley #liv morgan #videos #i can't believe dom actually stood up for himself for once 😭#and the crowd let him speakkkkk

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animasolaoriginal · 3 months

Text

I n f a t u a t e d ♦️TWO

CHAPTER ONE TWO THREE◾️FOUR◾️FIVE SIX◾️SEVEN◾️EIGHT◾️NINE TEN◾ELEVEN

She wakes up in his bed without any recollection of how she got there and what happened. But does it matter? She'd be stupid to deny a hot, rich guy like him, wouldn't she? No matter what he demands of her...

ruthless nightclub owner ❌ innocent young woman with a crush

WARNING: NSFW! Explicit sexual content. Age gap. Size difference. Dom/sub dynamic. Praise kink. Dubcon elements. Fingering. Butt plug. Hand job/blow job. (For more tags, check it on AO3!) // WORDS: 5.8k

ONE 🟥 TWO 🟥 THREE

She wakes to a low thumping inside her head and a strange taste on her tongue. It's a known hurt, usually brings up memories of parties, too much to drink, dancing till her feet give up. But she can't remember anything. And it's painful to even try to remember. It gets worse when she opens her eyes and finds herself in an unknown room.

On a bed. A stranger's bed.

Her first instinct is a little flutter of her heart, panic, unease, frantically looking around while she sits up slowly and bunches the covers around her shivering body. A quick feel beneath them gives her a short-lived peace of mind. She's not naked, but some of her clothes are missing. She swallows thickly, clears her throat, tests her voice.

Only to suddenly meet the stare of a man sitting opposite the bed, on a couch between two large floor-to-ceiling windows showing a familiar cityscape. She freezes when he looks at her with dark eyes, a little glint in them, a smirk on his lips as he watches her. She wraps the blanket tighter around herself.

“Good morning,” he says, voice deep, a low thrum in the air.

“Hi,” she replies hoarsely, her rapid heartbeat echoing inside her hurting skull.

“How do you feel?”

“Head hurts,” she mumbles, not even wondering why he would ask that. Not wondering anything at that point, really.

“There are some painkillers on the nightstand, and water,” he replies with a nod to her left.

She follows the hint and sees a large glass of water and two small pills next to it. And her skirt, neatly folded on the edge of the table. Leaning over to grab the things she needs to hopefully feel better, she keeps her eyes on him, cautious, hesitant. Once the pills are down and the glass empty, she inhales deeply, that awful taste gone from her mouth. One less thing to worry about. Though it gives her the chance to feel other things.

Like the stickiness between her thighs.

Shifting on the bed, she looks around, dares to break eye contact, gets a lay of the land, or at least the room. Huge. Minimalist. Just the bed, two bedside tables with a tiny lamp each, no clutter, a large couch on the opposite wall with a pompous rug in front of it, two doors to her right, one on the left. A single large plant in one corner. Fancy wooden floorboards, white walls adorned with exquisite trim. A luxurious light fixture built for a museum above her.

She looks back at him, her mind racing. “Do you remember me?” he asks when she meets his gaze. She nods. Of course she does. She's been coming to his club for weeks, and he finally noticed her. She has no idea how she ended up in his bedroom though.

He stands up, a tall frame clad in a fancy black suit with a white shirt, handsome and intimidating. Somehow even wealthier than she expected. His steps are confident as he approaches the bed, his eyes never leaving hers. “Did we –” she starts quietly, scooting back a little as he sits down on the edge, facing her.

“Did we what?” he replies, his lips curling up slightly. “Use your words, darling.”

She shivers, a strange feeling coursing through her as his words sink in. “Did we have sex?” she then manages to say, feeling her cheeks warming up.

“No,” he says, braced on one arm as he watches her closely. “Do you want us to?”

Now her head is burning, and she looks away with a sharp inhale. His laugh is low and rough. She breathes loudly through her nose.

“Is that not why you came to me?”

Their eyes meet again, she bites the inside of her cheek. Has it been that obvious? It's been a stunt, a challenge from her friends, a silly little dream. She's had no idea it would actually work. Whatever it was that made it work. There hasn't been much planning, to be honest, with how drunk she's been, high on adrenaline and endorphins, too happy to care about possible consequences.

She flinches when he extends a hand and brushes his fingers against her side, curls them into the blanket. Her heart is racing as he slowly pulls it away, exposing her. She doesn't fight it, just freezes, hugs her knees to her chest, crosses her feet, when the covers fall away. Why doesn't she fight it? Why should she? He's hot, rich, gives her the attention she's been craving her whole life. She'd be stupid to push a man like that away.

But he doesn't touch her, just looks at her, eyes wandering over her body, while she sits on the bed, shivering, waiting, her mind spinning.

“Why are you here?” he asks, and she frowns at the question.

“Why did you bring me here?”

His eyes meet hers, his gaze intense, dark, somewhat hungry. There's a playful twitch to his lips, and he leans back, licking them. “Probably the same reason why you approached me,” he replies quietly, his voice low with an almost dangerous edge to it. “To fuck you absolutely senseless.”

His words make her gasp, eyes widening at the bluntness. Still she feels that throb between her legs, the warmth seeping into her panties. She shouldn't be this excited, and she forces herself to not make it too obvious.

Grinding her jaw, she looks away, towards the large windows. She has no idea what time of day it is, the sky is gray and the buildings she can see are only various shapes in a different shade of gray. She must be downtown, it's too high up to recognize anything. She's never been in any of the taller buildings of the city before.

His hand is on her foot, long fingers curling around it, and she whips her head back to him, inhaling sharply. “Is that not what you want?” he whispers, his thumb drawing circles on her ankle.

She breathes faster, no longer as sure as she's been last night. It's not helping that she cannot remember anything other than approaching him at the bar. There's the faint image of being pinned to a wall, making out in the darkness. But nothing more. She swallows, staring down at his hand.

“I... I don't know...” she mumbles. His thumb stops moving, he tilts his head at her.

“Are you a virgin, sweetheart?” he asks bluntly.

She clears her throat, ears burning under her hair. “Uh, yeah,” she admits, shifting uncomfortably on the bed. His touch feels too warm, too invasive all of a sudden.

“Do you want to leave here a virgin?”

She doesn't like the way he says that, it makes goosebumps ripple over her skin. He takes his hand away, and she looks at him. She's expected him to grin at her, look suggestive, leering and creepy, somehow, but his expression is full of genuine worry, lines on his forehead, a furrow between his brows. Dark eyes as intense as ever, but warmer. And so freaking handsome it's really distracting.

Chewing on her bottom lip, she can only shake her head. His face relaxes, the hint of a smile grazing his lips. “Good,” he says and stands up. She flinches at the sudden movement. “Go take a shower,” he then orders, pointing to one of the doors to her right. “There's some stuff you can use in there. Wait here when you're done.”

His tone is authoritative, not leaving any room for complaints or hesitation. “Yes, sir,” slips out of her almost automatically, and he smiles wider.

“Good girl,” he says, winking at her as he walks around the bed towards the door leading out of the room.

He leaves her sitting on the bed, shivering, a strange tension in her stomach. She doesn't even try to comprehend why his last two words to her felt like something she's never experienced before, like a warm shiver running down her spine, a caress deep within her. An itch she never knew she needed to scratch.

The bathroom is almost as huge as the bedroom, black and white tiles, warm wooden tones in the vanity and cabinets lining one wall to accent the lack of colors. There's a big bathtub in front of a large window, the lower half of it covered by expensive looking blinds, showing only the gray sky beyond. The shower is enormous, could easily fit five people. But she's alone in it, standing under the spray, still pondering what is happening. What she's agreed to.

Has she agreed to anything though? Well, denying to want to leave or to remain a virgin couldn't be more straight-forward.

What's gotten into her?

Sure, he's handsome, wealthy, owns a night club, lives in an apartment overlooking the city, quite a catch, but he is still a stranger. Just a man she's grown a little infatuated with over the last visits to his club. She's always seen him lounging at the bar, looking over the dance floor, dark eyes scanning the crowd. She's seen him hooking up with random girls, leading them into the back.

And she wanted to be one of them.

A silly wish, and now she stands naked in his shower. It's almost too good to be true. No, it's foolish, dangerous even. She doesn't know him. Did she really agree to be taken back to his place? She can't remember. Why can't she remember? The painkillers work, but the low thumping is still there, muffled and no longer as agonizing, but still there, in the back of her mind, like a mass of unanswered questions burning through her nerves.

Inhaling deeply, surrounded by the steam of the shower and the faint scent of him that clings to the room, she tilts her chin up and lets the water run down her head, over her warm face, through her hair down her back, little rivulets following the curves of her body. Gosh! She's never felt this nervous before.

But in the end it's just sex, isn't it? Better to lose her virginity to a rich guy in his fancy place than to a drunk guy in a dirty alleyway. It can't be that bad, right?

When she steps out of the shower and grabs a towel, her gaze falls onto the little pile on the vanity. Rubbing her hair, she inspects it – and freezes. It's underwear, white lace with the hint of shimmery satin, intricate, barely able to cover anything, bra and panties, but that's not what makes her insides churn. It's the little metal thing lying on top, the teardrop shape with a small handle like a knob, adorned with a big sparkling jewel. She may be inexperienced, but she knows exactly what it is. He left her a freaking butt plug.

Shivering at the thought of putting anything up her ass, she ignores it and focuses on the packaged toothbrush he's given her. Putting all her energy into brushing her teeth, drying her body, blowing hot air through her messy hair, she quickly forgets about the implication that special gift holds. When she puts on the white underwear, she leans towards the mirror and wipes at the steamed-up surface to look at herself. A gasp escapes her.

Not only does she look so different in the lace set (the white little embroidered flowers barely covering her nipples or her sex, the thong sitting deep between her butt cheeks, leaving nothing to the imagination), but she also notices the large bruise on the side of her neck.

Her finger traces the deep purple mark, and she shivers. The memory is faint, but she can feel it as she remembers last night (or what remains of it), how he's sucked on her skin, his warm mouth, even warmer tongue, licking over his work. She swallows thickly. The throbbing is back, low inside her, her stomach tense. It's either fear or anticipation, she can't be sure just yet.

When she exits the bathroom with her hair cascading down her shoulders, trying to cover more of her chest, she lets out a little yelp when she sees him sitting on the couch again, one leg over the other, lowering his phone when he notices her. His eyes are on her immediately, and she tries to cover herself with her hands as she walks backwards to the nightstand, trying to grab her skirt.

“No need,” he says, his voice firm, and she freezes, hand extended, fingers brushing over the fabric. She frowns at him, and he shakes his head. “You'll only wear what I tell you,” he adds, and the harsh tone lets her exposed skin pebble, his words barely registering inside her suddenly empty mind.

She inhales sharply, holding her breath. She's never felt this exposed and vulnerable, embarrassed that he can see her like this. Even though he'll probably see a lot more of her very soon. The thought scares her as much as it excites her. To say she's conflicted is an understatement.

When he stands up abruptly, she flinches, and even more so when he is with her in a few quick strides of his long legs. His hand closes around her wrist, pulling her towards him. She has to look up at him now, her chest rising and falling faster, heart thundering loudly, something hot gathering deep in her belly. He watches her closely, a stern look in his eyes, as his other hand slides down her side, over skin and lace, curves around her rear, and she shrieks when she feels his fingers dipping into the cleft between her ass cheeks.

He lets go of her, his eyebrows furrowed. She bites her lip as he scrutinizes her darkly, before he turns around and enters the bathroom. He comes back with the little metal thing between his fingers, and she feels her stomach tensing up even more.

“You didn't like my little gift, huh?” he says quietly, almost menacingly.

“I... I did–didn't know how to... use that...” she admits in a breathy whisper.

“Hmm,” he hums and steps closer to her, one hand cupping her face as he leans towards her, the other holding up the plug, dangerously close to her lips. She stares at him, stiffening, eyebrows knitted in confusion. “Open your mouth,” he tells her.

She hesitates, and he pushes his thumb and forefinger into her cheeks, forcing her jaw apart. A muffled whimper escapes her, and she grabs at his wrist instinctively. His gaze darkens.

“Tongue out,” he whispers, his voice that low thrum in the air, stern and strict, and she knows she shouldn't hesitate anymore. Slowly she extends her tongue, flat, mouth open, her eyes wide as she watches him when he lowers the metal object onto it. “Come on, lick it or it goes in dry.”

A cold shiver crashes through her, every muscle clenching in anticipation. Struggling to swallow hard (which isn't easy with her mouth open), she flicks her tongue around the cold object, holding his gaze. He pushes the plug deeper between her lips and forces her to close her mouth around it. She feels her eyes watering as he pushes it in and out, coating it in her saliva, warming it up. It's humiliating, to say the least. But she's afraid it's only the beginning...

He plops the plug back out of her mouth, then quickly pulls her against him as he sits down on the edge of the bed. She can barely react as he manhandles her onto his lap, draped over it, ass raised, stomach pressing into his hard thigh, hair falling over her head. She claws at the fabric of his pants, squirming on his lap, her head spinning as she tries to understand what's happening. “Hold still,” he tells her, but it's almost an instinct to writhe more, fight against what he has planned.

The sudden slap of his hand against her ass cheek is loud in her ears, and it takes a moment before the pain attacks her senses. A pathetic little cry escapes her, and she kicks her feet. Another slap to the other cheek makes her yelp again, the sting to her soft skin like nothing she's ever felt before.

“Hold still!” he repeats, and she whimpers, buries her head in his leg, and forces herself not to squirm, despite the throbbing pain. She feels tears in her eyes, her mind blank with shock. Her breaths are frantic, little wheezes of panic. “Shh,” he makes, his hand gently caressing the irritated skin now. She relaxes a bit, but only until he pulls her thong to the side and she feels something cold pressing against her sphincter.

“No!” she whines out, unable not to squirm, and he sighs deeply. Instead of spanking her again, he brushes his finger along her cleft, warm, a teasing tingle, a little rough, but better than that hard plug. Until she hears and feels him spitting on her, something warm and wet gathering on her skin, his finger spreading it around slowly, and then he dips his fingertip into her tight hole.

She gasps and tenses up immediately, only making it worse. He doesn't care, slowly works his finger deeper, wriggling it slightly, easing the tight muscles. She bites her lip hard enough to draw blood, quietly whimpering, frozen in place. Surrendering to the fate she seemingly called upon herself. By the time he forces the plug into her ass, she's sobbing, unsure how to feel about the object poking out of her – and what that says about his other plans for her.

He helps her stand then, big hands on her upper arms, looks down at her as she looks up at him through her tears. Sighing deeply, he wipes at her wet face, smoothing her hair, shaking his head. “You'll learn to love it,” he whispers before he leans in and presses his lips to hers for a soft kiss, a gesture she hasn't expected after whatever just happened. His words barely register, the underlying threat (or promise?) for more overpowered by her own shame and confusion.

Leaning back, one hand on her face, thumb on her bottom lip, he watches her, something dark glinting in his eyes. His other hand moves along the curve of her spine before he gives her another slap to her tense ass cheek. She cries out, flinching away, feeling her muscles clenching around the metal thing inside her. He only laughs and grabs her hand, pulling her after him.

She puts her bare feet into the ground, and he looks back at her, eyebrows raised. “C-can I... get something m-more to wear?” she asks quietly, voice hoarse from crying.

He tilts his head, chuckling. “No need,” he says again. “It's just us, baby, don't worry.” She doesn't know how to feel about that.

“Please?” she tries again. “I'm... cold...”

“Are you now?” he whispers, his hand moving up to her chest, his thumb pressing against her nipple through the thin fabric of her bra. “Doesn't look like it.”

She lowers her head, inhaling sharply, blinking away new tears.

“Little advice, darling,” he says, putting his finger under her chin and making her look at him. “Never lie to me.” His words are cold, his eyes dark as he stares at her. “Understood?”

She swallows, nods slowly. He grabs her chin, narrowing his eyes. “Y-yes,” she says, quickly adding: “Sir.”

He lets go of her and gives her a smile, his hand on her head, patting it softly. “Good girl,” he whispers. Her insides tense up, something cold trickles down her spine while something warm throbs inside her core.

He takes her through his vast apartment, but she's too focused on walking behind him to really look around, his hand big and tight around hers, her bare feet tapping over the wooden floor, and she feels practically naked in that sorry excuse for underwear he's forced her to wear.

Force, there's no way around it now. He's forcing her to do this, no matter what she might have agreed to. That plug in her ass that twitches with every step she takes? She didn't want that and yet it's there now, tightly gripped by her confused muscles, the shiny knob brushing against her thong, giving her shiver after shiver. But she's too stunned and overwhelmed by it all to even think about finding a way out of this.

Is this still what she wants? Has she ever truly wanted this, whatever this is? She has no idea, she just knows, somehow, that whatever he tells her to do, she'll do it if he keeps calling her good girl. It's a strange realization, two simple words, but they make her feel special, like she's never felt before. Just thinking about it makes her core ache, her muscles clench, her nipples perk up.

She's caught in her own mind when he stops in front of a set of couches, a u-shape in a large room, a plush rug beneath her feet, more of those big floor-to-ceiling windows, the gray city beyond the glass, so far away it seems. He watches her, she realizes when she looks up at him with a slight frown, amusement glinting in his dark eyes. Letting go of her hand, he sits down, leans deep into the cushions, both arms resting on the back of the couch.

“Straddle me,” he says quietly as she shifts nervously on her feet in front of him. Swallowing, she moves her gaze from his eyes to his crotch, to his wide spread legs. A confident sitting position, exuding dominance. And she knows she shouldn't hesitate, but it still takes her a moment to follow the order.

Slowly she moves closer, one leg on either side of his, cautiously pushing them together a bit to allow her to kneel on the couch and sit down on his strong thighs. Her hands find his shoulders for support, and she watches him as closely as he watches her. Her heart is racing when she settles on his lap, trying not to focus on the fact that her legs are spread wide enough to give him a good look at the scandalously thin fabric of her thong, barely hiding anything.

He tilts his head as she retrieves her hands and folds them in front of her sex, head lowered, shoulders stiff, still unsure what she is even doing here. Suddenly he grabs her waist, large hands splayed around her body, making her look back at him with a little gasp.

“Tell me you want this,” he whispers hoarsely, his eyes boring into hers. It's not a question of consent, it's another command, and she can't help but agree yet again.

“I... I want this,” she says under her breath.

“Yeah?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. “You sure?”

She inhales deeply. “Yes.”

“Say it,” he urges, fingers digging into her soft flesh. “Tell me what you want.”

“I... I want...” she starts, chewing on her lip, her eyes wandering away from him, her cheeks burning up in embarrassment. “I...” Her mouth feels dry. “I want you to... to...” She swallows thickly. “...to sleep with me...”

His laugh sounds almost mocking. She looks up with her eyebrows furrowed, her lips pursed, discomfort written all over her face. “So fucking innocent,” he mutters, shaking his head, amusement or malice making his lips twitch. “Say you want me to fuck you. Come on, use big girl words, baby.”

She presses her lips together, shifting on his lap. “I... I want you to... f-fuck me...” she repeats quietly, clenching her jaw, trying to hide the shaking of her voice, embarrassment burning deep inside her belly.

His hands move up her sides until he grabs her face, pulling her closer towards him until his nose brushes against hers. “You want me to take your virginity?” he whispers darkly, his breath fanning over her face.

“Y-yes,” she whispers back, her heart beating harder.

“You want my cock in your cunt?”

She flinches at his words, but nods into his hands.

“Say it...”

She swallows, breathing loudly through her nose. “I... I want your... your cock... in my... my c-cunt,” she stammers, feeling the blush spreading all over her body, her eyes watering under the intensity of his gaze, his closeness, his grip on her face, the dominance in his voice.

He smiles, quickly pressing his lips to hers. “Good girl.”

She closes her eyes, a deep shudder rushing through her body like a wave of relief. He pulls her against him, wrapping both arms around her, just holding her while she rests her cheek on his shoulder, savoring his warmth, the unexpected intimacy of a simple hug. But simple doesn't seem to be something he likes, because his hands wander lower, cupping her rear, fingers kneading her soft flesh, teasing between her cheeks, rubbing along the thin strip of fabric, pressing against the base of the plug.

Forcing herself not to flinch, she just leans against him and lets him touch her, her hands squished between their bodies, dangerously close to the warm hardness between his legs. With how he handles her butt, she's forced closer against him, her fingers brushing along the bulge, and when he suddenly pulls on the plug, she jerks away and into him, pelvis slamming into his lower stomach, and she can feel him through the thin fabric of her thong. Hard and hot.

His hands move back to her hips, pulling her away again. He looks at her, curiously with a dark glint in his eyes. “Have you ever touched a cock, darling?” he asks quietly.

She licks her lips, shakes her head.

“Seen one?”

Another shake of her head. His amusement turns into surprise, while the shame of her confession makes her blush even more. He gives her a strangely sweet smile, one hand on her warm cheek, thumb tracing the outline of her lips.

“Do you want to?”

“Yes,” she replies, her heart racing. His eyebrows rise up, and she quickly adds: “Sir?” He just looks at her, pointedly, demanding. “I... I want to touch it...” she then whispers, biting her lip. “Your... your cock...”

He caresses her cheek, smiling. “Such a quick learner,” he praises. “Well, go on then, make your wish come true,” he continues, leaning into the cushions, pushing her backwards a little, his arms resting on the back of the couch as he watches her intently.

She stares at him for a moment before she understands the command. Shifting on his lap, her fingers move towards his belt, shaking uncontrollably, her mind reeling, heart beating out of her chest. Somehow she manages to unbuckle his belt and open the button and zipper of his pants. Without too much thought, her hand curls into the opening, fingertips brushing against warm skin.

Looking up for confirmation, she sees him nodding, and when she frees his hard erection (the sight more intimidating than she expected) by pulling the fabric down, his lips curl up into a smirk. “Don't be shy, just grab it.”

She does, two small hands around his girthy length, his flesh hot and hard, veins bulging against her palms. A little throbbing motion from deep within. Unsure what to do, she just squeezes her hands around him a little, until he puts his big hand on hers and starts moving it, showing her how he wants her to touch him. He's surprisingly patient with his teachings, guides one of her hands up and down his shaft while he places her other to cup around his testicles.

Her breaths are frantic little puffs of air, her cheeks are burning in embarrassment, but when she looks at his face instead of his angrily throbbing cock, she sees him smiling at her, a soft expression she hasn't expected, almost proud, and she inhales deeply and focuses on the task at hand – literally.

Eventually he takes his hands away and lets her do her thing, and she follows the movements he's shown her, moving her hand up and down, shifting the soft skin over his hardened core, closing her fist around his tip, smearing the precum leaking from it around his length, while the fingers of her other hand knead the soft flesh of his balls. It's almost relaxing, meditative.

He's breathing deeper, louder, and she can see his face tensing up, as if he's holding himself back. She continues stroking him, pumping him with all she has, until he grabs her wrist and stops her, his eyes almost black from how dilated his pupils are. She's too stunned to fight him when he suddenly manhandles her onto the couch next to him, on her knees, facing him, and he forces her head down with an iron grip to her hair. She yelps in surprise.

“Open your mouth,” he rasps, voice deep and rough. She swallows hard, stares down at his cock twitching inches away from her face. But she follows the order, her lips trembling as she parts them, tongue out flat, and before she can prepare herself, he's forced her head down on him. His tip slips into her mouth, warm and wet, a slightly bitter taste on her tongue. “Close your lips around it and suck,” he orders, his grip unrelenting.

She feels her eyes watering, her chest heaving in panic, her hands bracing around his thigh. He holds her in place, waits for her to do so, and when she hollows her cheeks, he inhales sharply. She breathes loudly through her nose, feeling his cock hard and heavy against her tongue, poking into her gums. It's just the tip, but it fills out her mouth to the point she's afraid to choke on it.

“Keep... pumping,” he breathes, hoarsely, on the verge of losing it. Her hand finds the rest of his dick, and she starts moving it up and down his length, still so much ground to cover, so big she's somehow glad he doesn't force it deeper, or even down her throat.

His body is shivering beneath her, the hand in her hair tightening its grip until it hurts. Muffled whimpers escape her, but she keeps sucking on his tip, precum and saliva filling her mouth, dripping past her lips and down her chin. She moves her tongue as best as she can, flicking it around his spongy crown, while stroking up and down his throbbing girth quick and hard.

A grunt escapes him, and she feels him twitching inside her mouth and against her palm. He grabs her head with both hands and holds it down, it's a sharp pain that makes tears roll over her cheeks, but it's nothing compared to the sudden jerk against the back of her throat that makes her flinch in panic.

She tastes it, hot and salty and thick, as he comes inside her mouth, spurt after spurt, filling her cheeks until she can't hold it anymore and has to swallow. It hurts to do so, and she opens her jaw a little wider, letting most of it drip down her chin as she gulps for air.

He relaxes beneath her, his grip easing on her head, releasing her. His hand pries her tight fingers off his cock and holds it himself while he pulls her back a little. She looks up at him from under her clumped lashes, vision blurry, mouth and chin covered in a thick layer of spit and cum. She feels too lightheaded to be embarrassed about how she may look, and when he gives her a weak smile, she cares even less.

His finger traces along her chin, gathers his cum and slowly pushes between her trembling lips. It's almost an instinct to lick around his fingertip, and his eyes darken at the sight in front of him. He keeps cleaning her and she keeps licking up his essence, the taste growing on her despite the initial bitterness. He wipes his palm over her mouth, smearing the last remnants over her lips, before he holds out his hand to her, soiled palm up, watching her closely.

She shifts on her knees, her body shivering, overwhelmed by all these new experiences, but she manages to cradle his big hand with her smaller ones and leans down to trace her tongue over his lifelines, lapping up the rest until his hand is clean. He nods approvingly and grabs her chin to guide her back to his crotch. “Clean,” he says quietly, and she only nods and bends down to bring her tongue to his cock once more.

His fingers dig into her hair, gentle caresses this time, light scalp massages, while she licks around his tip, sucks up the last drops of cum from his slit, moves up and down his shaft with her lips sucking lightly, while her lungs burn and her head throbs. It's as if it's the only thing that exists anymore, his cock, his pleasure, his contentment. Only to get the soft touches and gentle words, those two words he has yet to say to her for her service, her obedience.

He pulls her back once she's done, quickly putting himself away again while she leans on her knees, head bowed, licking her lips, swaying slightly as if drunk. It's a strange kind of serenity. Calm, head empty, his taste lingering on her tongue. Nothing more to worry about.

Shifting beside her, he pulls her onto his lap, strong arms caging her in, her head resting on his shoulder as he holds her, one hand rubbing up and down her back. “You did good,” he whispers, and she shivers, soaking up the praise like a sponge, saving it for later.

“Thank you,” she breathes against him, and the hand on her back pauses.

“What are you thanking me for?” he asks.

She swallows, inhaling deeply. “For... for saying that I did good, for... teaching me, for...” She feels her cheeks burning up, head clearing enough to feel embarrassed again. “For... letting me touch and... and taste you...” she adds in a low mumble, burying her face in his collarbone. For not forcing me to do more, she thinks.

He laughs softly, resuming the rubbing of her back. “It's nice to start the day like this, huh?”

She only hums in response, melting into his body as he holds her. They sit like this for a long moment, it feels strangely natural, intimate and warm. Something she could get used to. Something that scratches the itch deep within.

ONE 🟥 TWO 🟥 THREE

End notes: It's only going downhill from here...

By the way, you may or may not have noticed that these characters don't have names: and that's on purpose. I want to keep this as vague as possible, focusing solely on their connection. If you need to address them, I guess Sir and Darling would work? But really, it's just He and She now.

(And if you wanted to, you can imagine them being your favorite fictional characters also. I didn't describe their appearance either, despite it being an older, taller man and younger, shorter woman. Anything goes.)

And yes, our female character is very naive, very submissive, very innocent indeed. I hope it's not too much. She has a crush, okay? And we all know (hopefully) how that can turn brains into mush.

Thank you for reading! Next chapter on Monday!

AO3 / / / MASTERLIST

CHAPTER / / / ONE◾️TWO◾️THREE◾️FOUR◾️FIVE SIX◾️SEVEN◾️EIGHT◾️NINE◾️TEN◾ELEVEN

#ao3 original work #dead dove do not eat #dom/sub #d/s dynamic #praise k!nk #older man younger woman #size difference #modern au #joel miller smut #supernatural smut #dean winchester smut #arthur morgan smut #simon ghost riley smut #cod smut #original fiction #infatuated

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