#dom!morgan

[maraudersmary]

guys i wrote something

it is part one of my sub hotch dom morgan series but it’s like a prequel of how they got there. NO NSFW!

[bitin-and-barkin]

STRONG OLDER MEN. I want to see a man, so rough and tough in the streets actually be a big sweetheart and SO nervous in bed. All flustered and whiney, rutting against your thigh like a one dollar whore. I need to see them overstimulated and crying from pleasure while you suck them off or eat them out. I want to see them be so scared about hurting you while they fuck you oh so gently, SO horny, but so afraid of hurting you. I wanna see one cry and whimper into your neck while they ride you soo well like a good boy <3 you let them cum as much as they want because they're being soo good for you (and they NEED that privilege cause they are soo sensitive and will cum so much) and they eat ALL of your praise up

[animasolaoriginal]

I n f a t u a t e d ♦️ONE

CHAPTER ONE TWO◾THREE◾FOUR◾FIVE SIX◾SEVEN◾EIGHT◾NINE◾️TEN ELEVEN◾️TWELVE◾️THIRTEEN◾FOURTEEN◾FIFTEEN SIXTEEN◾SEVENTEEN

A chance encounter under the strobe light. Hips swaying to the thumping bass. Dark eyes following her every move. Gazes meeting through the crowd. She came to him. He took her away. Changing her life forever, guiding her into submission.

ruthless nightclub owner ❌ innocent young woman with a crush

WARNING: NSFW! Explicit sexual content. Age gap. Size difference. Noncon/dubcon elements. Roofies. Abduction. Dom/sub dynamic. (For more tags, check it on AO3!) // WORDS: 3.9k

A/N: Please remember: This is fiction! As much as I enjoy writing fucked-up characters, this is not real. I do not condone this behavior! Men, be nicer to women! Girls, always check your drinks! Be mindful of strangers, no matter how nice they seem and how hot they look. And be careful what you wish for! So, technically this is a modern AU of my original story Innocence Lost, picks up on some themes, but it's basically just a fucked-up man abducting a girl (it's not stated in the beginning, but she's over 18!) and having fun with her (and then things may escalate a little!). Be mindful of the tags! This may be my darkest piece yet. (Dead dove, do not eat, as they say, right?) Also pretty self-indulgent, but there is some plot between all the filthy smut that is to come, I swear. > There are no names, no physical descriptions other than a size and age difference, so you can imagine any character here! <

ONE 🟥 TWO

Innocent.

She's been innocent, the sweetest little thing he's ever seen. Laughing with her friends, oblivious to her own beauty, blind to the leering stares of every single male around her. And he's been one of them, staring, watching her, looking her up and down as she moved her fragile little body to the beat of the thumping bass, motions contorted and jerky in the strobe light, hair swinging, hips shaking, lips curling into happy smiles.

So innocent.

Probably just a mask, an act. Or maybe she's really been as pure as she looked back then, he'll never know. Because as soon as he's laid his eyes on her, she's been corrupted, tainted by his dark desires. He wanted to corrupt her, ruin her, and he always got what he wanted. He lured her in, kept watching her until she noticed his stares, the darkness in his gaze, the hunger within him. And she came to him, drawn to his mystique, his persistence.

Curious little thing, clueless to the monsters around her.

He smiles at her, rakes his eyes over her body, over that outfit she chose to impress without realizing what might happen, whose attention she might attract. The tight top, squishing those small breasts (pert little nipples standing proud under the shifting breeze of the AC), showing off the flat of her stomach, the flutter of her belly after she's danced her heart out, chest heaving, sweat on her brow, beads rolling down her pale, untouched skin. Slim naked arms holding the drink between her fingers, the soft rattle of cheap jewelry on her wrists, around her neck.

Girly, cute, pure.

And that skirt, mid-thigh, tame when she's standing still, scandalous when she's moving, the fabric flowing around her legs, bending down (bending over), accidentally showing off those cute little panties beneath. Giggling when she realizes her mistake, small hands trying to cover up, but people already saw, and she's aware. She's been aware he saw everything of her. Eager eyes, big and fucking innocent, following his every move.

He takes the drink from her, stares down at her, no longer smiling, and she looks up, chin tilted, so tiny in front of him, innocent, expectant, excited. Putting the glass down, he grabs her wrist, frail cheap jewelry bending under his grip. For a small moment she's hesitant, notices the strength in his fingers, the determination behind the gesture. But she still follows him as he pulls her away from the bar, into the shadows.

How do you break an innocent girl? Show her what's what? What may happen if she steps into the lion's den wearing that skimpy top and maybe-scandalous skirt? So naive. Swinging her hips to the blasting music, bouncing those tiny tits, laughing like nothing else matters, enjoying herself. A little light in the moving darkness. A light he wants to savor before he'll let her burn out.

If she'd be any other girl, he'd have her pinned to the wall, skirt flipped up, panties ripped down, his belt open in seconds before he'd sink his cock into her tight little cunt, to ravage her, ruin her, use her like she's supposed to be used. But she's too pure to be railed against a wall, in the dimly-lit club, for everyone to see.

He still pushes her against the wall, inhaling that little gasp she issues when she hits it, looking up at him, lips parted, eyes wide, gaze blurry, pupils already dilated, the thrill of the encounter and adrenaline of the night (and possibly some drinks she was mysteriously gifted) pumping through her body. Grabbing her face with his big hands, he holds her firmly when he leans closer, takes his time, gives her time to push him away (what a rare treat, girl), but she just stands there, looking at him, a little glint in her eyes, her lips curving up ever so slightly.

She wants this.

And he gives it to her. His lips meet hers, one hand holds her cheek, thumb guiding her chin, while the other hand slips into her hair, fisting it, a tight grip to hold her as he kisses her, a soft beginning, quickly turning rougher, more hungry, desperate. And she kisses him back in the same way, mirrors his motions perfectly. Such a quick learner. Their tongues slide against each other before he pushes deeper, tastes the inside of her mouth, that sweet taste, of some sugary drink and her, so much of her, and it's intoxicating.

So sweet. Innocence oozing from every pore.

He cages her in, pushes her against the wall, feet on either side of hers, knees around her legs, and she's that tiny thing in front of him, standing there, kissing him back, but her body seems frozen, hands at her sides, immobile. Petrified? A doe-eyed thing caught in the headlights? Not for long. His hand moves down to her waist, fingers digging into soft skin, warm and smooth, slipping up under the hem of her shirt, teasing at the little mound beneath.

No bra. Too innocent (and small) to need one.

Her hand comes up then, closing around his wrist, but she's not pulling him away, she's pushing his hand higher until his rough palm closes around her breast. Tiny tits, usually not his preference, but it's cute, that little squishy flesh under his big hand, warm and soft, and the longer he kneads it, the harder her nipple pokes into his palm.

And then she moans into his mouth. His eyelids flutter, and he stares at her, lips hovering over hers, heavy breaths mingling, head spinning, the tension in his stomach making it so hard to keep his composure, to stick to his decision to spare her his usual treatment. He gropes her small tit once more before he pulls his hand back, sliding it down her side, watching her closely.

He grabs her ass cheek harder than intended and leans in to capture her mouth when she yelps quietly in response, swallowing her noises, the thump of the music vibrating through his tense body. In his mind he's already ripped her clothes off, run his hands all over her smooth, untouched skin, fingers pinching her nipples, teasing between her legs, slipping deeper, into her tight innocent warmth –

A grunt escapes him. She's gripping the front of his shirt, her small hands clinging to him while she kisses him back, eagerly, completely lost in the unexpected encounter. Eyes closed, humming against him, body inching closer, searching for his warmth. The hand on her ass pulls her against him, a little thud that makes her mewl into his mouth, before it slips lower, cups her rear, pushes her up, fingers brushing against that little damp piece of fabric, and it's enough to make him hoist her up onto his hip.

Her hands claw at the collar of his shirt while her legs wrap around him almost automatically, conditioned, programmed to submit. A deep-rooted thing she isn't aware of yet. Her pelvis presses into his hipbone as he balances her, back pressed to the wall, both of his hands now on her plump cheeks, holding, groping. He can feel her warmth, that hint of wetness, arousal she's probably confused by.

“I'm gonna take you with me,” he rasps into her neck as he leans in to shower her soft skin with hungry kisses, lips closing around her fluttering pulse, sucking the blood to the surface with a determination that surprises himself.

“What?” she breathes against his cheek, a sweet little sound in his ears, so pure, a soft hum in the atmosphere.

“Don't worry about it,” he mumbles, licking over the bruise he's created on her neck. She shivers in his hold, chest moving against him. He leans back, licking his lips, meeting her curious gaze. “You need another drink,” he says with a smirk. It's not a question.

He sets her down again, grabbing her hand, leaning over to brush his lips over her temple until she looks up at him. Then his other hand is on her chin, holding her as he crashes his mouth against hers for another searing kiss. A little whimper escapes her. She's confused, he can tell, overwhelmed by whatever is happening.

Pulling her towards the bar, he nods to the barkeeper, a gesture often used. She's leaning against him, caged between his hard body and the counter, looking up at him with those big eyes. He smiles down at her, caressing her soft cheek with the back of his finger. He's got her, he knows. She doesn't even care about her friends anymore (and they seem to have forgotten about her too, he can see them dancing on the other side of the room). All she does is look at him, mesmerized.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the bartender sliding the drinks over the counter top. He takes the prepared drink (something sugary with a special ingredient) and hands it to her, then takes the little vodka shot for himself, eyes fixed on her as he clinks the glasses together. She smiles shyly and takes a cautious sip, while he downs the shot in one go, feeling the liquid burning down his throat. The music thumps around them, the air thick and heavy with alcohol and sweat, and a tension that's just between them.

The innocent girl, sipping her drink, staring up at the man, who watches her with a predatory smirk. His hand is heavy on her hip, warm and comforting, holding her in place, thumb rubbing over her fluttering stomach. She finishes the sugary concoction and wipes her mouth, glass empty on the bar. He leans down and brushes his lips against her ear.

“Come with me,” he whispers, and she shivers, her hand finding the front of his shirt again. He steps back, his hands running along her arms until they close around her slim wrists. The bass sits low in his guts, and he can't help but move his body slightly to the music as he leads her backwards. She laughs softly, a little sway to her hips as she follows him. But they leave the dance floor and walk back into the shadows.

He watches her closely, she blinks more, eyelids heavy, lips parted, that cute little tongue out to lick them, once, twice, again, almost obsessively. He takes her to the back, past the office, the music becoming that thick beat in the distance, a deep thrum in the air, through the walls, muffled as if the world was made of cotton. He leans her against the wall, a body too easy to move by now, his hands on her shoulders as he leans down to rub his nose against hers.

“Be a good girl and stay right here,” he tells her, waiting for her to understand.

She nods slowly, licking her lips again, and he presses his mouth to hers, capturing that sweet little tongue, sucks on it, kisses her deeply, tastes the sugar and her and more. Dangerous move, but he can't help himself. He leans back, moves his lips down her jaw, along her neck, swipes his tongue in a broad stroke over that soft skin. She mewls in response, and he grins against her before leaning back.

“I'll be right back,” he says, his eyes boring into hers, making sure she does what he tells her. She nods again, biting her swollen lip.

He hasn't planned to take her, but he'll adapt, as always. It's a risky move, but he somehow knows it's going to be fine. He has an eye for these things, knows what to do if situations (opportunities) like this present themselves. Just a few calls, some more ominous nods to his employees, no problem, just a few minutes of his time to sort things out. Somewhat. He doesn't even know why he's taking her away, it just feels right. The temptation is too strong to ignore.

He shouldn't have left her.

When he returns, they are there, crowding her, two guys, frat boys probably, drunk out of their minds, slurring and stumbling, but determined to take what is now his. He's on them in no time, hand ripping them away from the frightened but still confused girl, frozen in place as hands gripped and groped her, slipping under her clothes, going places that are reserved to him.

His fist lands hard against a jaw, one of them tumbling to the floor with a howl, the other, too drunk to react, just stares at him, and he doesn't wait for him to realize what is happening. There's blood on his knuckles when the second guy goes down as well, two crumpled guys on the floor, holding their bloody faces. He grabs the girl with his left hand, carefully pulling her against him. She's swaying, legs trembling, arms wrapping around his waist helplessly.

One of the boys stirs, and he steps on his hand and kicks him back, another howl swallowed by the distant thump of the music. He takes a few steps, raps his fist against the door. A bouncer opens it, and he tilts his head towards the mess behind him. “Take care of this,” he orders, and the burly man nods, slipping into the club while he maneuvers the girl out of it.

The night is cold, semi-fresh air, but the noises are no longer muffled. The city breathes around them as he guides her to his car, parked in the back. She clings to him, barely able to function on her own anymore, eyes heavy, lips parted. He leans her against the trunk, hands holding her soft face, looks her over. She looks at him from under her lashes, too out of it to realize anything anymore. He gives her a soft kiss to her warm cheek, a little giggle escapes her.

She falls into the passenger seat, a frail little body unable to move on its own. He leans over to buckle her in, feeling her deep breaths on his chin. A short side glance shows him she has her eyes closed, chest rising and falling, head lolled to the side. His hand is on her cheek as he kisses her gently, savoring the warmth, already imagining what he could use her for. But he has to be patient.

When he rounds the car to get behind the wheel, his morals flare up, a rare occurrence, but the sight of her slumped into the seat, helpless and fucking innocent, makes him wonder how it's come to this. He's seen her dancing, in that tight top and short skirt, a laughing little light in the darkness around her. Pure. Ready to be soiled. He inhales the cold night air and slips into the driver seat, shaking his head to get rid of those damn doubts, flexing his bloodied knuckles on the steering wheel as he turns his head towards her small form.

In the end she is just another body to be used, like she should be.

They arrive at his place, and it's a blur for him to get her into the elevator, a little breathing bundle in his arms, so light and heavy at the same time. Temptation. He puts her down on the bed, watches her, how she curls up into a ball of limbs and hair, breathing softly, skirt bunched up around her hips, that sweet round butt on display, cute panties he wants to rip off her immediately. But he refrains, sighs, turns away to wash the blood off his hands.

Unbuttoning his shirt as he returns, his eyes are on her, taking in every detail. He keeps his pants on, keeps his hard erection in place for now, no matter how difficult it is to hold back. The urge to just take her is strong, push those panties aside and impale her on his thick cock. It'd be so easy. She wouldn't even feel anything, wouldn't remember a single thing. And there's the problem. He doesn't want to fuck a lifeless body, no matter how cute she looks.

He wants to see the fear in her eyes, the pain when he penetrates her, stretches her, deflowers her, possibly. Maybe even the lust growing in her pupils, that dilated look of pure bliss. Who knows, she might be into this. She followed him so willingly, she came to him, after all, approached the monster that kept staring at her. She made the first step. He just watched.

She stirs on the bed, soft little noises tumbling past her lips. He leans over her, rolls her onto her back, turns her head to the side so she won't choke on her own spit. There are other things he wants her to choke on. Later. It's almost caring how he brushes her hair out of her face, caresses her cheek, flushed and warm from sleep. Thumb finding the contours of her lips, soft and wet, pushing between them, into her mouth, searching for that sweet little tongue.

He pulls back with a deep sigh. Watching her for another moment, he decides to undress her after all. At least the skirt has to go, so he moves his hands under her body and fumbles for the zipper, then pulls it off her slim legs, nudges her shoes and socks off in the same move. He even removes her cheap jewelry, the soft clanging sounds of the thin metal filling the quiet room. She stirs slightly, smacks her lips, but doesn't wake. Not that she could, not yet. He folds the skirt and puts it on the nightstand, the sneakers he leaves under the bed, socks tucked into them, then turns his attention back to her sleeping form.

So fucking innocent in her tight top and those cute panties. A soft pink with little white bows on it. Childish almost, a girl caught in that awkward phase between adulthood and innocence, right on the verge. He doesn't know how old she is, but he trusts his bouncers to only let in girls of age. They're experts in finding fake IDs, good judges of character also. To be honest, though, it wouldn't change anything anyway. She is here now, on his bed, ready to be used, soiled, ravaged. He can't fucking wait.

But he has to, so he leans back and inhales deeply, ignoring the strain in his pants. His hands are itching to touch her, feel that warm smooth skin, pure and untouched. Almost. He can see the bruise on her neck that he worked into her. His mark. The beginning of many more, he's sure. He leans in, braced on one arm, one knee denting the mattress, his other hand tracing her jaw until he feels the little thump of her heartbeat in her jugular. His fingers curl around her neck, thumb pressed to her throat, as he stares down at her.

His mind floods with images of soft lips strained around his cock as he forces it down her throat, the tears in her eyes, the desperate grip of her fingers, trying to push him away as she struggles to breathe, spit and cum on her face, dripping down her chin, down between her tiny tits, chest heaving, throat bulging, a small body shuddering under the assault. He leans back with a groan, his stomach tensing in anticipation.

His hand trails down her side, teases those soft mounds under the top, scrapes over the hem of her panties, down her inner thigh, a little nudge and her legs open, a body to move how he wants to, so pliant. He's tempted to throw his plans overboard, the urge growing to just take her and relieve the throbbing need in his pants. His fingers are shaking as he brushes them between her legs, over the soft, slightly damp fabric of her underwear.

He can't help himself any longer, he slips a finger under the hem, feels her warm skin and the slick gathering between her soft folds. Biting his lip, he traces her slit, from the little hidden nub down to her entrance, and he can already tell she's never been touched here before, tight and pure. Maybe she's had her own little fingers in there, but she'll soon find out that it won't compare to anything he's planning to do to her.

A grunt escapes him when he pushes the tip of his finger into her hole, a little squelching sound accompanied by a little whimper. He looks up, but she's still gone, head turned to the side, drool gathering in the corner of her parted lips. He watches her as he dips his finger deeper, feels the tight grip of her cute little cunt, so warm and squishy, barely able to accommodate one of his digits. This will take some work if he wants to keep her.

He's used virgins before, broke them, ravaged them until their blood mixed with his cum, their pained screams like music in his ears, but this girl... she's too innocent to be treated like that. It's a strange feeling he's never had before. It's warm and somewhat comforting, as smooth as her tight little pussy. He pumps his finger slowly in and out, noticing the wetness gathering around it. Her mind may be clouded, but her body reacts nonetheless.

Why not start her training while she's unconscious? Might make it easier for her once she comes to. He settles next to her, pushing her panties aside more to allow his thumb to find her clit. Pumping his finger, he rubs it gently, draws tight circles around that sensitive bundle of nerves, feels it pulsing under his touch. His cock twitches against the fabric of his pants, and he grits his teeth to ignore it.

Her body shudders, little uncontrollable twitches in her thighs, her stomach fluttering, her soft breaths slightly faster as he keeps working his finger into her tight warmth. His eyes on her face, relaxed in sleep, but there's still a little twitch to her eyebrows, a little furrow, a quiet whimper falling from those plump lips. He fingers her faster, thumb pushing harder on her nub, those sweet squelching sounds making his head spin.

A tiny moan erupts from her throat, a quiet “Ah...” humming in the atmosphere, and he feels her tensing up, her walls gripping his finger, but he works it in and out still, knuckles-deep, thumb assaulting her clit. He wants to lean in and taste her so bad, but somehow he holds himself back, another trait he's new to. Instead he watches her small body convulsing under his touch, hips jerking against his hand, cunt clamping down on his digit, and when he pulls it out, her wetness seeps out of the tiny hole, trailing down to the other, dripping onto the sheets.

He inhales deeply, takes in that sweet scent of her orgasm, and wipes his hand on her inner thigh, spreading her release on her warm skin, before he leans back and brings his finger to his lips, unable to fight the urge to taste her after all. He prefers to have his face between soft thighs, drinking directly from that intoxicating fountain, but for now it'll do. His tongue laps around his fingertip, and he closes his eyes, taking her in, that sweet, sweet taste.

Before he leaves her be, he adjusts her panties and throws the blanket over her sleeping form. Then it's a short trip to the bathroom, shower turned on, clothes discarded on the floor, and he's barely in there when his right hand closes around his angrily throbbing cock.

Fuck. This girl will be a challenge. An exercise in restraint.

🟥 TWO

End notes: So, I guess the slow burn of Innocence Lost got to me, big time. I have no idea from what dark and ugly depths I pulled this story, but it is here, at least the first 10 chapters of it, the first season if you will. (And there will be more!) I'll upload a new chapter every Monday!

I hope the tags didn't put you off too much, but if you are reading this, maybe you pulled through, and I thank you for it! Thank you for joining me on this wild ride! I appreciate you very much!

By the way, this all came to be, somehow, because I've been listening to a lot of Electric Callboy recently (strangely enough, iykyk) and their video to Hate/Love kinda brought this all down. Or at least started it all. Sometimes inspiration strucks in the weirdest forms.

Thanks again for reading! Next chapter on Monday!

AO3 / / / MASTERLIST

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

SIX◾SEVEN◾EIGHT◾NINE ◾️TEN

ELEVEN◾️TWELVE ◾️THIRTEEN◾FOURTEEN◾FIFTEEN

SIXTEEN SEVENTEEN

[hornydilfsinyourarea]

"𝙏𝙄𝙉𝙔 𝙋𝙍𝙀𝙏𝙏𝙔 𝙇𝙄𝙀𝙎, 𝙄'𝙇𝙇 𝘽𝙀 𝙔𝙊𝙐𝙍𝙎 𝘼𝙉𝘿 𝙔𝙊𝙐'𝙇𝙇 𝘽𝙀 𝙈𝙄𝙉𝙀"

Pairing: Yan! Joe Goldberg x Male Reader x Yan! Dexter Morgan (separate)

Uhh, this is my first time doing this, this is mostly an apology post, for being so lazy and holding the requests down and not posting as much as I should and yeah... truly sorry about that, but you can also see this as a teaser, topics I might just use for bots and stuff

Warning: Stalking (You are a stalker, you could also see it as you being a Yandere also), Yandere! Joe and Dexter, both are separate and in different universes (if that makes sense), NSFW topics!, You being a pervert, you are a bit creepy (you're a stalker, what did you exspect?), breaking and entering, spy cameras, Dexter and Joe get off to the fact that you are stalking THEM, these are headcannons, and not a fic, these are also bad and a bit short, I might make a part 2 if this gets to 200 likes, maybe, or 100 likes, if you guys like this, I might just make more, but don't expect this the be a regular thing, this isn't my groove, my groove is bot making, not fanfic writing

"𝘿𝙊 𝙔𝙊𝙐 𝙇𝙊𝙑𝙀 𝙈𝙀 𝙏𝙊𝙊?"

Dexter met you at a grocery store, he was trying to reach for something before seeing someone else's hand reach for it and take it, as he turned to look who did it, he saw you, and how you... so nicely gave him the item he was reaching for, the way your eyes subtly run up and down his body, as you said your good byes, Dexter's eyes didn't leave your form as you walked away, he knew he was hooked

Joe met you in the bookstore he worked at, you asked him for recommended books and where you can find a specific book, it was a good choice of book, you two talked about your favorite books too! The way you gave him your card after finding your book, you didn't have too, but you did... it was as if you wanted him to know you... to know your name... your face... everything, as you left, Joe could stop thinking about you... your voice, he knew he was hooked

"𝙄𝙏 𝙒𝘼𝙎 𝘼 𝙎𝙏𝘼𝙍𝙍𝙔 𝙉𝙄𝙂𝙃𝙏, 𝙔𝙊𝙐 𝙇𝙊𝙊𝙆 𝙎𝙊 𝙃𝙊𝙍𝙍𝙄𝙁𝙄𝙀����"

When Dexter came back to his apartment, he didn't expect to see flowers on his kitchen counter and a... lunch box full of cooked food, it was food... that used the same ingredient you helped him reach, Dexter got home late... did you really go out of your way to break into his place and make him some food? How romantic! There was even a little note "Enjoy" — it read, Dexter couldn't help himself, smiling down at the gift you made for him, I mean... it must have been you? It must have!

When Joe got back to his flat, he didn't expect to see two roses on top of a book in his living room, as he got closer and picked the book up, he realized that it was a limited edition book, one who sold out years ago... it was his favorite book, one he loved to read, there was even a little note "Enjoy" — it read, Joe couldn't stop himself from smiling, what a romantic, you must have gotten it for him, I mean, you were the only one he told he even liked this book! So it must have been you! It must have been!

"𝙇𝙊𝙊𝙆𝙄𝙉𝙂 𝙏𝙃𝙍𝙊𝙐𝙂𝙃 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙋𝙀𝙀𝙋𝙃𝙊𝙇𝙀, 𝙒𝙀𝙇𝘾𝙊𝙈𝙀 𝙏𝙊 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁𝙍𝙀𝘼𝙆 𝙎𝙃𝙊𝙒"

After stalking your love for a month now, you couldn't wait much longer, you wanted to see him, see him whole, so... well, you bought small cameras, and broke into their place while they weren't there, putting the cameras where they wouldn't notice, or so you hoped, you hid them good, he wouldn't be able to find it... would he?

Oh, but Dexter knew, he saw something shine in the corner of his eye, he knew what it was, now aren't you such a pervert?~ putting a camera in his bedroom, so bold... god did that turn him on, he couldn't help but tease you, purposely standing in the camera's point of view, slowly, but surely, taking off his shirt, unbuttoning each button slowly, Dexter was making sure he didn't look at the camera, he didn't want you to know he knew, Dexter liked the chase, the feeling of being wanted, he wanted to see how long it will take you before you break and take what you wanted, when Dexter got his shirt off, he turned around, now his back side turned to the camera, he then, also slowly, took his pants off, he knew he was giving you the perfect view of his ass, he bet you were even stroking your cock watching him undress, weren't you? Just the thought made him almost hard...

Now, Joe, he also saw a camera in the corner of his eye, "Such boldness..." Joe thought, biting his bottom lip, he did what he normally did for a few days, before he put his plan in action, Joe knew there was a spy camera in his room, you probably put it there to watch him sleep, hm? Such a caring stalker you are~ Joe made his way to his bed, laying on it, his hand going downwards, rubbing his crotch, till he could feel himself getting hard, whimpering as he teased himself before pulling his pants down, just to his knees, before he wrapped his hand around his cock, stroking it slowly, his lips parted, letting out deep breathes as he thought about you, were you stroking your cock watching? Oh how he hoped so, he was doing this for you, hoping you're watching him, as Joe got harder and harder he help himself and started to stroke himself off faster and faster, his moans and whimpers getting louder, wanting to make himself look as submissive as possible, he really was putting on a show for you... it wasn't long before Joe climaxed, his cum landing on his hand, he made sure all of it landed on his hand before he slowly liked it off, he really... really hoped you liked the show~

"𝙎𝙃𝙐𝙏 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁𝙐𝘾𝙆 𝙐𝙋 𝘼𝙉𝘿 𝙂𝙄𝙑𝙀 𝙈𝙀 𝙏𝙊𝙋, 𝙈𝙔 𝙎𝙃𝙄𝙏 𝙃𝘼𝙍𝘿 𝘼𝙎 𝘼 𝙍𝙊𝘾𝙆"

I do not consent to my content being stolen, copied or reposted on other platforms, if you want to use these or inspired by this, CREDIT me and ASK me, please and thank you

[adamscoles]

Cinematic Parallels WWE SmackDown, June 26, 2020 WWE Raw, Aug. 12, 2024

[luvs4matt]

KINKTOBER !! DAY THREE , corruption

season1!spencer reid x dom!reader

you traced your manicured fingernails across spencers cheeks and jaw, giving him the smallest touch as you straddled his lap. he whines from your small words and sudden movements of your hips that send waves of pleasure through his body; embarrassed as he becomes consumed with the bits of pleasure.

“my smart.. innocent.. baby..” you whispered, placing a few kisses down his jaw “please” he begs “need something—need anything” you smiled sweetly at the boy, making him think you would finally fuck him. “not today baby..” he whined, desperate to be deep inside of you, being squeezed by your gummy walls.

“but-“ he trys to find something to say but he can’t, he knows that there is no way to convince you. you grind your hips into his, making him whimper “felt good?” he hums an “mhm”, he sounded so sweet when he agreed with you, but when does he not.

“want me to ride your virgin dick so badly, hm?” your soft voice made him feel so loved yet still so embarrassed. “y- yes.. so bad” you wanted it too, but it is so fun working him up. you started to lift up his shirt, kissing down his tummy. he whimpered, your lips getting closer and closer to his clothed cock, your knees hitting the floor.

“y- you said-“ you cut him off “i know what i said sweetheart.. just enjoy it, yeah?” your innocent boy was not going to be so innocent anymore.

© LUVS4MATT

a/n - don’t mind the rushed ending… and this isn’t even like ACTUAL corruption. like wtf.

taggies 🏷️ @downbad4reid @conspiracy-ash

[cryvelv3t]

Hi friend, could I request Arthur Morgan with praise + overstim? Smth soft, I'd like to take good care of him :)

Oh hell yeah

Warnings: Vanilla, Overstimulation, Praise, Semi-public (you're in his tent and believe me they aren't helpful)

"Kiss me please." Arthur whispered to you as he closed the tent flap "You sure darling? You don't want to go find a spot?" "No, I want you now. Please darlin'" He walked to you and cupped your face "I love you." You whispered as you slotted your lips together. The kisses were slow and passionate unlike the moments where you two search for a clearing away from the camp. You missed him, his lips, his soft skin, his beard, everything. "Please darlin'." he whispered against your lips "Please what?" "Don't make me say it." You smiled as you pulled away "But hon, I don't know what to do if you're not specific." "Fuck, please touch me. Please love." "of course, my love." Your kisses travelled lower, making their way across his jawline and neck. Arthur's hands found a spot on the back of your neck "Don't stop, please don't stop." Your hand slowly trailed down his body, slipping your hand under his pants you could feel his cock rise to full hardness. "So hard from a couple kisses, so desperate for me." He whimpered quietly at the teasing.

You dipped your head down, your hands lifting his shirt above his belly button and the other pulled his pants down. You kissed from his belly button down to his happy trail "So beautiful, my pretty boy." You whispered relishing in his small groans. You landed an open-mouthed kiss to the tip of his cock; you began sloppily kissing down his cock till you reached the base. You stuck your tongue out and gave one long lick along his dick from base to tip. "Fuck~" He groaned out, his back arching slightly. "Please, please." Arthur's hands found purchase on the back of your head. You slowly bobbed your head up and down his length, his cock felt heavy on your tongue. The weight was comforting almost like a warm hug. You loved Arthur, and you loved his body. You got lost in thought before a loud moan brought you back to your senses. "I'm gonna cum, so good." Soon enough his warm spend filled your throat, you groaned softly at the feeling. You pulled off with a slight cough "You did so good, god you're so perfect." You praised as you leaned back down to kiss him. "You're so handsome." He whispered against your lips. You could feel his body stretching to grab his pack. He handed the oil to you "You want to do it, or should I?" "Give it to me." you stuck your hand out towards him. "Thanks love." He laid back down giving you full control.

Your finger slowly circled his hole loving the way he whimpered. "Come on, don't make me beg. Just do it!" You laughed slightly before doing as he asked. You're finger slowly pumped in and out of his ass, slowly you added another. He looks so beautiful writhing under you, "God you're so beautiful. I love you so much, such a good boy." You smiled down at him as you added a fourth finger "Doing so good." You pulled out grabbing the oil again to lube up your cock and poured a small amount on his hole. Slowly you entered him, his hands pulled you down to him. Arthur slotted your lips together in a needy, passionate kiss. He let out a wince and a few groans as you bottomed out. You moved perfectly in sync, two lovers in a perfect in a perfect harmony. "Doing so good for me." You repeated the praise from earlier, Arthur groaned in response. His hole gripped you like a vice "Start movin'." You pulled away from the kiss while pulling his bottom lip with your teeth. Your hips rocked slowly and gently; Arthur's moans were soft. "So handsome, my beautiful boy." You praised in his ear, the rocking of your hips becoming harsher. His moans grew louder and louder "Shit, hon." You groaned. Your hand moved to his cock, you stroked him quickly bringing him closer to his release. He was already a little overstimulated from you sucking him off. "Fuck~" You groaned. You reached your release deep inside him, his spend ending up all over himself. You kept pumping to prolong both of your orgasms, Arthurs moans out in a mix of pain and pleasure, "t's to much, too much." His back arched. "Okay baby, okay.". God you love him.

[animasola86]

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

[sir-walton-goggins]

Clean Shaven

Just a lil ficlet in appreciation of clean shaven Arthur. (736 words)

Tw suggestive! Just a whole lot of teasing eheh

Pic by me /// Thank you @raevennsge for the inspiration!<3

"Let me do that for you." Arthur paused and turned to you, shaving blade in mid-air. It was early in the morning, most of the camp was still asleep, and your husband was sitting in front of his portable mirror on his cot. Before he could even reply, you straddled him, placing yourself right on his lap, and gently took the blade from his hand. "Wh-hat..." he stuttered, gaze averted and traveling down to your chest, his cheeks and the tips of his ears glowing red. He shifted his weight to accommodate yours, suddenly very aware of the stiffening bulge in his pants. His breath escaped him in a short exhale when you promptly grabbed his jaw to hold it into place, a stern command exiting your pretty lips. "Don't move." Like under a magic spell, Arthur's muscles froze into place, not even daring to breathe too hard, heart racing in his chest and a tingling sensation spreading all over his lower abdomen. He would never admit it, but he was just so starstruck when you took control of him. However, it was written all over his face: eyes widening in a defenseless stupor, mouth slightly open, whole face as red as a bell pepper. He looked as vulnerable as a puppy. A small quiver shook his lower lip when you hovered your mouth just below his earlobe, on the portion of skin not covered by the shaving cream. A shiny mark of saliva glistened in the timid light of the rising sun. The skin on his neck felt tingly. "Be a good boy for me now." You ordered, softening the grip on his jaw and running the blade smoothly on his cream covered cheek. Arthur looked at you with his peripheral vision, the malicious grin pasted on your face making his stomach churn. God, you were so hot. He tried lifting a hand to put it on your thigh, but you quickly smacked it away, giving him a dirty look. "I said, stay still." "Yes ma'am" he whispered, a coy smile on his lips. You were often so sweet, but he enjoyed seeing this part of you emerge from time to time. It awakened something in him he didn't quite understand. All he knew was his pants now felt a bit tighter than before. "What did I do to deserve the deluxe service?" He joked, desperately trying to distract himself from the painful swelling you caused. The blood rushing over felt like thousands of pins and needles prickling at him from the inside. You didn't reply. Instead, you planted your eyes in his, softening your gaze a bit as if to silently say "You're my man. Of course you get special treatment". You continued shaving him, strip by strip, being exceptionally delicate yet firm. Arthur's skin was becoming smoother where the blade had taken away thick hair and dead skin, and you took pleasure in running your free hand on the freshly shaven parts, even leaving a soft kiss on them, making Arthur shudder in delight at the gentle contact on his still raw epidermis. His little grunts and moans as you held him in place made your own lower belly hot. You exhaled, trying to keep your cool. He gingerly tried to put his hands on your waist and this time, guard down, you let him. "There," you finally announced, shaving the last of Arthur's face. You smiled. "All done." You admired his clear features. Every single pore, wrinkle, scar, mole and sunspot that was now exposed made him even more Arthur. And you loved seeing every inch of him. You reached out to caress his clean shaven cheeks once more, but Arthur grabbed your hands and held them into place in one swift motion. "I'll finish up later," he rumbled, his voice suddenly so deep it made your heart skip a beat and every hair on your neck stand on end. He leaned forward, putting his lips on yours, his grip on your waist tightening as he opened his mouth slightly to taste you better. You instinctively obeyed, parting your lips enough to let him in. "Now, let me give you the deluxe treatment..." he purred in your ear, making your breath shaky and your core flutter in anticipation. Your squeezed your thighs around his waist and dove right back on his mouth, tasting every inch of the soft skin you shaved yourself.

[emmcfrxst]

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

[pandorasfavorite]

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

[bitin-and-barkin]

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,

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,

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.

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Should I keep this story going???

@yyiikes

[animasolaoriginal]

I n f a t u a t e d ♦️THREE

CHAPTER ONE◾TWO THREE FOUR◾FIVE SIX◾SEVEN◾EIGHT◾NINE◾️TEN ELEVEN◾TWELVE◾️THIRTEEN◾FOURTEEN◾FIFTEEN SIXTEEN◾SEVENTEEN

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 TWELVE◾️THIRTEEN◾FOURTEEN◾FIFTEEN

SIXTEEN◾SEVENTEEN

[mggsv]

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.”

[blue-babygirl]

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.”

[adamscoles]

Liv completing her revenge tour