#for showing their dynamic outside of the lust

[booasaur]

Special Ops: Lioness - 1x08

[mssalo]

dirty old man - sleeping

In the quiet of the night, Joel can’t resist the temptation to have you just as you are - sleeping, warm, and all his to use. By morning, you’re eager to give back, slipping under the sheets to wake him up with your sweet mouth, proving that sometimes, the best dreams are the ones you wake up to.

Warnings: MDNI, 18+, somnophilia, age gap, caretaker f!reader, Joel is a perverted old man (imagined age 60-70), reader in her 20s, DDLG dynamic, daddy kink, consensual somnophilia, intense possessiveness, penetrative sex, p in v sex, cuming inside, oral (male receiving), dirty talk, power dynamics, and themes of control, degradation, size difference, explicit sexual content, Joel having to pop some pills to keep up with reader bc hes an oldie

more dirty old man in masterlist

· · ───────────𖥸──────────· ··

It was the dead of night, and a profound stillness blanketed the world outside, making it feel as though you and Joel were the only two souls in existence.

He lay beside you, his warm body pressed against yours, a comforting presence that filled the space between you. His hand rested on your thigh under the covers, the gentle weight of it stirring a heat within you even in your deep slumber.

Hours had slipped by since you had drifted off, lost in dreams, while Joel remained wide awake, his thoughts consumed by a singular focus: you. Every gentle rise and fall of your chest, the way your lips parted slightly as you breathed, captivated him.

You had unknowingly spent the day teasing him, your playful glances and lingering touches igniting a simmering desire that he found impossible to ignore.

As he lay there, his dark eyes roamed over your peaceful face, memorizing every detail—the soft curve of your cheek, the way your hair fell across your forehead. So damn pretty.

It was a temptation that felt like a potent spell, pulling him closer to the edge of something he craved deeply. The urge to wake you, to make you aware of his need, pulsed through him, igniting a fire that flickered in the pit of his stomach.

With deliberate slowness, his fingers began to explore your thigh, inching higher, savoring the softness of your skin beneath his touch.

The intimacy of the moment was electric, every subtle movement charged with anticipation. He knew you were his, entirely and completely, and the thrill of that realization made his heart race. The way you teased him without even knowing it had awakened a hunger in him, one that demanded to be satisfied.

Tonight, there would be no holding back.

His hand slowly slid higher up your thigh, grazing the hem of your shirt, slipping beneath it.

You weren’t wearing anything underneath, just like he like - easy access, always ready for him.

He let out a quiet groan, feeling the slickness between your legs, even in your sleep. His cock twitched at the thought, already hardening against your backside as he pressed himself closer.

“Fuck, baby,” he muttered low in your ear, his voice thick with need. “Even in your sleep, you’re ready for daddy, huh?”

You stirred slightly, a soft sound escaping your lips, but you didn’t wake up.

Joel grinned to himself, his fingers slipping between your folds, spreading your wetness as he teased you gently.

He loved this—having you completely at his mercy, knowing you were his to take whenever he wanted.

“You know what daddy wants, hm, sweet girl?” he whispered, his voice dripping with lust. “Gonna fuck you nice and slow, baby. Show you how much I need this sweet little pussy.”

You mumbled something incoherent, half-asleep, but your body responded instinctively, shifting toward his touch.

Joel took that as all the permission he needed. He reached down, positioning his hard cock at your entrance, pressing the tip against your slick folds.

“That’s it,” he muttered, pushing inside you inch by inch, groaning at the feeling of your tight, warm walls enveloping him. “So fuckin’ tight, - even in your sleep.”

Your body tensed for a moment, adjusting to the sudden fullness, but soon you relaxed, letting out a soft whimper as Joel started to move. He kept his pace slow, dragging his cock in and out of you, savoring the way your body clenched around him.

You were still half-asleep, your breathing deep and even, but the pleasure was unmistakable.

“Fuck, you feel so good, baby,” Joel growled, his hips pressing against yours as he buried himself deeper inside you. “Always so fuckin’ good for daddy, even when you don’t know it.”

He thrust into you slowly, his hand gripping your hip to hold you in place.

You whimpered again, your body stirring as the pleasure built inside you, even in your sleepy state. Joel smirked, loving how easily he could turn you on, how quickly you responded to him.

“You love this, hm?” he teased, his voice low and filthy. “Love bein’ daddy’s little fucktoy, lettin’ me fuck you whenever I want. "- always so ready for it, sweet one.”

His dirty words sent a shiver through you, even in your haze of sleep. You moaned softly, your hips moving against him, and Joel chuckled darkly, knowing he had you exactly where he wanted you.

“that's my little girl,” he murmured, his voice softening just a bit as he slowed his thrusts. “Daddy’s gonna make you cum, just like always. - gonna fill you up so good, baby. 'You need that, don’t ya? Old man cum inside your sweet cunt?”

You moaned softly, barely able to form words, but Joel didn’t need a response. He kept thrusting into you, his pace picking up just enough to push you closer to the edge. Your body trembled, the pleasure building inside you, and before you knew it, you were coming undone around him.

“Fuck, baby,” Joel groaned as your walls clenched around his cock, milking him for all he was worth. “That’s it, come for daddy. Let me feel how much you love this.”

He fucked you through your orgasm, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he chased his own release. You were barely conscious, your body limp against him, but Joel didn’t care. He loved having you like this—completely at his mercy, his to use however he wanted.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come,” he growled, his hips slamming into yours as he finally reached his climax.

He buried himself deep inside you, groaning as he filled you with his release, his cock twitching as he emptied himself into you.

For a moment, the room was silent, the only sound the heavy breathing of Joel as he held you close. He stayed inside you, his cock softening as he pressed kisses to your neck. And lastly to your soft lips.

“You’re such a good girl for me,” he whispered, his voice softening as he stroked your hair. “So fuckin’ perfect.”

And as you drifted back into a deeper sleep, you couldn’t help but smile.

· · ────

The morning sun was barely creeping through the curtains when you woke, the soft rays painting the room in a gentle light.

Joel was still fast asleep beside you, his chest rising and falling steadily, a peaceful expression on his face. But as you lay there, the memories of last night flooded your mind—his hands gripping your hips, his filthy words in your ear, the way he used your body like he owned it.

The thought of it sent a familiar heat coursing through your veins. You couldn’t help yourself. You needed him again.

Carefully, you slid under the covers, moving quietly so as not to wake him just yet.

Your lips brushed against the soft skin of his stomach, trailing lower until you reached his cock. He was soft, but the weight of him in your hand made your heart race.

You wrapped your lips around the tip, sucking gently, savoring the taste of him.

Joel stirred slightly, but he didn’t wake. Not yet.

You smiled to yourself, your mouth sliding further down his length as you began to suck him off, slow and deliberate. The heat between your legs was already growing, the memory of how he fucked you last night playing over and over in your mind.

You couldn’t get enough of him—could never get enough.

As you worked him deeper into your mouth, you felt him begin to harden, his cock swelling between your lips.

His breathing changed, a soft groan escaping his throat as he slowly woke up to the sensation.

“Mmm… what’re you doin’ down there, sweet girl?” Joel’s voice was rough with sleep, but there was a smile in it too. His hand found your head, fingers tangling in your hair as he finally opened his eyes, looking down at you with that familiar hunger.

You leaned forward, the soft graze of your lips against his skin lingering as you looked up at him with a playful gleam in your eye.

“Thought I’d remind you of last night, daddy” you murmured, your voice dripping with mischief, heat in every syllable. “Couldn’t stop thinking about how good you fucked me.”

A rough groan tore from Joel’s chest, his fingers tightening in your hair, his hips pushing up slightly, his cock heavy and throbbing under your touch.

“Knew I’d spoil you too good,” he muttered, the edges of his voice low and gravelly, thick with lust. “Spoiled from Daddy’s cock, huh? Look at you. Young thing, just desperate for it…”

You only hummed in response, eyes darkening as you took him back into your mouth, feeling the weight and warmth of him press against your tongue.

You let him feel every inch of your attention, the way you circled your tongue around the head, teasing the sensitive skin there before sinking lower, deeper, lips sliding slowly down his shaft.

His rough breaths filled the air as you worked him over, and the steady beat of his pulse against your tongue was just as intoxicating as the groans slipping from his lips.

“That’s it,” he rasped, his voice thick with satisfaction, his hand guiding you further down his length, pushing you to take him deeper.

“Suck me like that, sweetheart. Just like that.” The words only spurred you on, adding a new spark to the hunger simmering inside you.

You worked him harder, hollowing your cheeks as you moved, watching his eyes go dark with lust as you took him in, inch by inch.

His fingers tightened their grip in your hair, his hips thrusting up to meet the movements of your mouth, filling you over and over, his cock sliding deeper each time.

You could feel his gaze on you, heavy with admiration as he watched your lips wrap around him, taking him so eagerly. The rough timbre of his voice made the heat between your thighs ache, every word only feeding your need.

“Just can’t get enough, huh?” he murmured, his eyes darkening as he continued to watch you. “Look at you, sweet girl, so damn hungry for it. Daddy’s cock got you addicted already?”

Your cheeks flushed as you looked up at him, your lips tightening around his shaft as you answered with another hum, letting him feel every inch of you.

His breathing grew more ragged, his cock twitching against your tongue as you took him deeper, savoring the way his hips bucked, the way he couldn’t hold back.

“Fuck, little one,” he muttered, his words edged with tension as he kept moving, guiding you, thrusting steadily into your mouth, each stroke deeper than the last.

“Just���look at you, a pretty young thing like you, all wrapped around me like this.” His hand flexed in your hair, the heat in his eyes pushing you further as he muttered, “Goddamn perfect, sweetheart, fuck…”

You moaned around him, the sound vibrating against him as you took him down again, feeling the rush of satisfaction every time he cursed, every time he let out a rough groan.

His hips thrust up with a final, shuddering need, and you could feel him reaching the edge, his body tensing, his grip in your hair tightening as he moved harder, needier, voice low and thick.

“Gonna make me cum, baby. You want that? You want Daddy to fill your pretty mouth?” His voice broke, heavy with lust, his words hitting you like sparks as he thrust one more time, hips jerking as his release spilled down your throat.

You took him in, swallowing every drop, not letting an ounce go to waste, savoring the taste as he finally began to relax, his breathing slowing, his hand slipping from your hair as he looked down at you, his expression somewhere between satisfied and awed.

“Jesus,” he murmured, his thumb tracing over your swollen lips, eyes warm, a smile tugging at the edges of his mouth. “You’re somethin’ else, baby.”

You wiped your lips with the back of your hand, smiling up at him. “Just wanted to make sure you woke up with a smile.”

Joel chuckled, pulling you up into his arms, his lips pressing against your forehead. “You’re gonna be the death of me, you know that?”

You grinned, your body already pressing against his, craving more. “Not before you fuck me again.”

“Damn, sweet girl,” Joel groaned, his hand sliding through your hair, tugging gently as he gazed down at you with a smirk of pure satisfaction. “With that mouth of yours… I’m gonna need those pills if I’m gonna keep up with you. Go get ’em for me, sweetheart. I wanna take my sweet time with you.”

He released a long breath, his chest still rising and falling from the aftermath of his release.

His thumb brushed your cheek, his eyes softening slightly as he spoke again. “Ain’t never felt this before. Not ‘til you came into my life. You make me feel like I’m twenty again, darlin’. Like I can’t get enough of you.”

His fingers slid down the side of your face, his touch tender now, petting your hair like he couldn’t stop admiring you. “God, you’re somethin’ else. My good girl, takin’ care of me like that.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and you couldn’t help but smile, feeling the familiar heat building between you again at his filthy praise.

You leaned into his hand, knowing full well that the moment you got back with those pills, Joel wasn’t going to hold back.

He was going to take his time

· · ───────────𖥸──────────· ··

uhh......yes <3

[thekrakenlolz]

i hate it when I'm reading Ellie smut and it's basically just written like she's a dude. It's always a pillow princess reader and hyper masc Ellie that shows zero emotion besides possessiveness and lust. And she never has her own needs. Like she's a girl at the end of the day. A young woman. Why are y'all acting like she's some stone cold player? (Not saying women can't be, just not Ellie. Like be so fucking fr with me) If I wanted to read about a man, I wouldn't be here.

Plus it's always funny when in the fanfic it goes "she flips you around" or "she moves you up" like the girl doesn't weigh the same as a sack of apples. And with the constant "you look up at her". She's 5'5. She's a little garden gnome. What am I looking up at? The sky?

But back to the 2d character she's given. I understand that that isn't coming from thin air. She can be fucking vicious and scary. She took out half a city for Christ's sake, but that's not how she is with Dina or Jesse or Joel while they still were on good terms. It's called having complexity. Not just being one type of way with everybody, you know?

And this part is personal preference, but why is the reader always some shy, timid, little lamb. I want to see two grown women fuck. Not this weird bullshit.

Like I honestly get it if you like the dynamic but outside of sex it's also just the same thing, where Ellie makes snarky/sarcastic comments and the reader just blushes and looks down at her Mary Janes. Why does she have the personality of a brick wall? Like I want Dina and Ellie type banter or at least something of that nature.

Lol, that's about it. Good night, I'm going to sleep.

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

Do You Trust Me?

Mob!Boss Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Word count: 1.1K

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, Gunplay (unloaded weapon but reader is unaware), Knifeplay (blade against skin, no injury), Power dynamics and control, Consensual kink involving fear play, Explicit sexual content, Mob violence references

Authors notes: Mob Boss!Nat having the darkest kinks but being so soft with you is my new kink

You knew what you were getting into when you fell for the infamous Black Widow, Natasha Romanoff. The recently appointed head of the Russian Mob.

She showed up at the bar you work at and started flirting. You knew who she was; of course you did. Everyone knew the Empire that Alexi Shostakov built and his two adopted daughters that would take over.

You let her schmooze you up. She kept insisting on being at the bar, keeping her eye on you, talking to you about everything and nothing. She made the shifts fly by and walked you home when you insisted on walking instead of letting her drive you home at 3am.

You never felt scared with her; she always made you feel safe. When she asked you out the first time you actually laughed in her face. The guys at the bar paled as you laughed at the deadliest woman probably in the country.

“Oh you're serious Tasha.” You realize as she just stares at you and you see a hint of hurt in her eyes. You reach out, gently cupping a cheek of hers, brushing your thumb across her smooth, cool, pale skin. “I didn't mean to laugh. I thought it was a joke.”

“Why would I joke about that?” her brows furrowing together and you can tell she wants to pout.

“I'm sorry. I'd love to go on a date with you Tasha.” You feel butterflies in your stomach as she smiles with her perfect teeth and those green eyes that remind you of the perfect spring day in a meadow. Her eyes always calmed you, they were reassuring in a way that the outside appearance of Mob Boss was just that and there was more to her than what she showed the world. This was something only for you.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Tasha loved fucking you in missionary. Her reasoning was that she,

“Fuck I love that fucked out look detka. All because of me?”

She'd always say it. It was like she needed to before she was filling you up. Your eyes rolling back only makes her keep going.

Then one day when you think it's going to be the same thing she stops and pulls back.

“Y/N, I'd like to try something…well it's something I like, but it's pretty intense so if you say no it's totally fine.” she seems nervous and you reach out to reassure her.

You looked into her eyes, searching for what was making her uneasy. The glint in her eyes was more than just the lust you were used to seeing. It was something darker. More raw. You stroked her cheek, your hand steadying her. “Tell me what it is, Tasha. We can try it. You know I trust you.”

Her hesitation melted as your words sank in. With a breath, she nodded, then leaned down to kiss you again, but this time it was more forceful. More demanding. As her hand reached beside her, you felt something cool press against the side of your neck. A shiver ran down your spine as the sensation registered—metal, sharp but careful.

A blade.

Your breath caught, and instinct told you to pull back, to question, but the wave of arousal that followed overwhelmed any fear. Natasha’s cock pressed against your entrance, sliding in smoothly as her weight settled over you. The blade remained at your throat, just a whisper away from breaking the skin, but somehow it made you feel more alive, more connected to her than ever before.

“Is this okay, detka?” Natasha’s voice was low, vibrating with need, her eyes dark and hooded as she watched for any sign of discomfort.

You nodded, feeling a flood of arousal at the danger of it all. “Yes,” you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper. “Yes, Tasha.”

She grinned, her lips brushing against your ear. “You’re so fucking perfect for me,” she murmured as she began to move, her thrusts slow and deliberate, letting the blade tease against your skin. “All of this—just for me.”

Her words sent you spiraling. She controlled everything about this moment—the pleasure, the danger, and you loved her even more for it.

Natasha’s thrusts slowed, her eyes locking onto yours with that same dangerous glint. You were completely wrapped in her presence, your body surrendering to the way she claimed you with every movement. But then, without warning, she shifted again.

You felt the blade lift from your throat, and for a moment, relief washed over you—but only for a second. The cold, hard sensation of metal returned, but this time, it wasn’t a blade. It was heavier. Solid.

A gun.

Your breath caught as Natasha pressed the barrel against the side of your head, her lips curling into a wicked smile as she leaned down to whisper in your ear.

"Don’t move," she said softly, her voice low, seductive, and filled with something dark that you had never heard before. "Unless you want to find out what happens."

A shiver ran down your spine as your body clenched around her, the fear mixing with arousal in a way you couldn’t explain. You were fully aware of who Natasha was, what she was capable of. And yet, you trusted her. Completely.

But right now, that trust felt like a game—a dangerous, thrilling game where she held all the cards.

“I don’t want to hurt you, detka," Natasha murmured, her hand firm around the grip of the gun as she slowly slid deeper inside of you. "But you’re going to be such a good girl for me, aren’t you?"

You whimpered, your body arching beneath her, but you couldn’t bring yourself to move. The weight of the gun against your temple felt like a warning, like a challenge, and even though your logical mind screamed that this was insane, your body betrayed you. You were turned on—desperately so.

"That's it, baby. Stay still," Natasha breathed, her thrusts picking up pace. Her forest green eyes bored into yours, filled with raw hunger and something darker. "Fuck, you feel so good."

The gun didn’t waver, staying pressed against your head as Natasha drove deeper into you. Her free hand gripped your thigh, holding you in place as she pushed you further into the mattress. The mixture of pleasure, danger, and control swirled in the air, intoxicating you both.

"Do you feel that?" Natasha’s voice was a breathless growl now, her hips snapping into you harder. "Knowing that I could end it all right now, but I won’t. You trust me with everything, don’t you?"

"Yes," you gasped, your voice trembling with pleasure, fear, and need all at once.

The truth was, you did. You trusted her with your body, your life, and your heart. Even now, with a gun pressed to your temple and her cock driving you toward the edge, you couldn’t imagine being anywhere else. She owned you in every way.

What you didn’t know was that the gun wasn’t even loaded. But Natasha didn’t tell you that. She liked the way you looked at her, the way your body trembled, caught between fear and pleasure.

She liked owning you completely.

[bunicate]

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ 𐙚 ₊˚ BY YOUR SIDE . pierro x fem reader

warning ꒱ྀི incest. ddlg dynamics. daddy kink [ papa + dada ] . size kink. creampie. reader kinda being a litl brat / repost / unedited as always :p / wc ꒱ 2.5k / 18+ / ♡ + ↻ are rlly appreciated ! !

there’s the faintest, most desperate echo of a mewl that can be heard from outside the biggest room reserved for no one other than the first harbinger himself.

fourteen days he was away from you. fourteen days without your touch. fourteen days he was unable to see you. fourteen days without inhaling your scent. fourteen long, bitter, cold days pierro spent missing you and still, finally graced with your presence, he’s as composed as ever.

he leans until his back hits his chair, and he relaxes. with his half-empty wine glass discarded on a nearby tray, he eases himself down from his budding desire with deep and steady inhales and exhales. his eyes are clouded over with lust.

the level of patience pierro possessed was carefully crafted throughout the many years he’s been alive. his resilience has never been more clear than it is right now, as his daughter, whom he loves so dearly, clamored over him half-naked.

he found your struggle to be quite a show. chin resting on calloused fingers, he occasionally rubs the scruff of his stark white beard. It’s become habitual for you to crawl and seat yourself on his thick thighs. pouty and close to tears, your fingers claw at his polished suit to steady yourself.

he’s always been the one to take the lead, but he’s forfeited that control momentarily, allowing you to use him to your heart's content.

your chest bares from the looseness of your clothes, and his facade slips only slightly. your hips swivel clumsily, and his erect cock bounces off the plumpness of your butt. he releases a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

you raise your bottom higher, placing his cock right against your wet slit that stained the coarse hairs at the base of his shaft. his body tenses at the contact, his eyes zeroing in on the pretty sheen that coated his remarkable length.

“hnnn.”

a strangled moans escape when it skims over the surface of your twitchy button—a gentle caress with enough pressure to make your back arch.

it was difficult prepping yourself for the first time, but you refused his help. you were like him in so many ways. you’re a creature constantly chasing perfection. one attempt after the other until you’d be rewarded with what your efforts promised, but pierro just didn’t want to see you hurt.

“take it easy, little one.”

his hand cups the softness of your ass, lightly squeezing it. you shake your head. brows pulled together and lips trembling as the drag of your cunt wets him further.

he expected you to behave like this.

a recent conflict pulled him away longer than he expected, and he knows that in his absence, you were unsatisfied. your fingers are not nearly as thick and long as his to ease that ruminating ache between your legs, but he was here now to finally take over, and you wouldn’t let him.

holding your chin, he tilts your head up. you see the concern sewn into his mature features.

“I'm not going anywhere; you don’t need to rush.” it’s a very simple affirmation, but it did nothing to relieve your troubles.

‘liar’ you want to retort, but you choose to remain silent. the truth is, he couldn’t promise that. you knew he’d leave again, and each time you were never sure if he’d return. how you managed to have such little faith in a man who’s lived nearly half a millennia and witnessed such catastrophes was unheard of.

to others, he’s feared—untouchable, unscathed, a force to be reckoned with, but somehow a much smaller and weaker girl— his girl worries for him dearly. It's humorous, but he could never, in good faith, hold it against you. It's been too long since he’s felt the delicate touch of another and to be looked after with such care. he’d readily take as much as he could.

you put your hand on his shoulder, and the other grabs his cock by the thickest part as it comes to life in your palm. it’s warm and beads pre-cum that slowly drips, following the path of his most protruding vein. there’s a feeling that shoots through your body, and it’s all too familiar as you watch the milky drops descend.

you have to bite back another broken moan.

hovering over his dick, you cushion it right against your entrance, swaying from the slight loss of balance. finding your footing, you try once again to tuck him between your walls, but the leakiness of your cunt makes the head of his cock slip. your frustration was an understatement.

pierro watched you closely as you moved sloppily. stuck in a mulish state, you’d rather fumble instead of asking for his help.

“you’re going to hurt yourself, love,” he remarks. while aroused by the brief contact of skin, pierro remained humbled at your show of defiance.

you make a noise, brushing off his concern and rolling your shoulders to straighten up.

“don't care, ‘need to have you inside of me.”

you huff your chest every time his smooth tip rubs your slippery opening. tracing it against the silky folds of your cunt, they separate as you struggle to insert him. you begin to brace yourself. it only takes a few more shaky attempts until his cock finally penetrates with a swift and brutal plunge.

“hmmph—!”

you can’t stop twitching around him when he’s buried so deep. your head hangs back, and your bit lip is barely enough to keep the hiss at bay. no amount of rubbing against his thigh could ever prepare you for that piercing stretch that churned your insides. the stretch that forces your legs further apart and makes your eyes tighten in desperation.

your stomach flexes, and anxiety wrecks you. you breathe audibly, finding it in yourself to remain calm, but archons — you were a few thrusts from already cumming.

“do you need papa to help you ?”

his voice stirs you from concentration, and it borders on breaking.

pierro would be a liar if he said watching you take him didn’t bring a sense of triumph. riding him was no easy task. even after countless nights and all sorts of positions, his girth still proved to be a challenge, one that would take a lifetime for you to master, and that was one of the few things he could actually promise you, time.

but you ignore him and the concern in his tone. you’re a big girl, you don’t need his help. you’ll have all of him inside of you even without the wonderful burn of his fingers to help loosen your gummy walls.

you inhale slowly hoping that it will somehow allow the tension to subside and it does. it takes a minute, maybe two until the pressure feels comfortable. you’re still not quite all the way down, there’s another few centimeters left until he’s fully sheathed inside your walls. you’ve been resting your weight on your toes that dangled close to the floor and you know you should in fact take your time, but your body refuses to cooperate.

it's a wet plop from your thighs and ass meeting his groin when you force him in.

“h-hah—!“

pierro’s cock sharply hits your precious cervix and your eyes reel back into your skull. your daddy pats your leg encouragingly. even now he could barely fathom how such a small pussy could be so accommodating.

“there you go.”

inevitably, the praise still made your chest feel heavy. “that’s it, sweet girl.” that baritone voice made blood rush to your cheeks. lightheaded is what you felt. all the fire you once possessed turned into a lovesick, numbing feeling that left you unable to retain any air. especially when he adjusted his hips and his veiny cock bumped your cervix once more.

“ah— f-fuck!” you whine.

the hand on your thigh squeezes your softness as a warning.

“language.”

you're winded up so tight, afraid that if you moved an inch, you’d cum. the tears that brimmed your waterline fall.

“s-sorry papa.” you sniffle, “but it’s so deep, n’ I feel it stretching inside me.”

“does it hurt?" he hums. “would you like to stop?”

you shake your head profusely.

“no! please, I don’t wanna stop, not yet.”

unwilling to be separated from him, you lean on his chest. it’s warm and reminds you that you couldn’t be anywhere safer. slowly, you begin to ride his cock. a messy rhythm that did enough to please you.

his dick presses against your insides as your hips rotate in sloppy circles. your clit brushes against his skin with every move, pulling you closer to the end you missed so desperately.

 you speed up, chasing that feeling selfishly until it grows and becomes too powerful to control.

“daddy . . .” you try to halt your hips, but you can’t stop the desperation. you settle for slowing down even more, but it only seems to drag the pleasure out further.

“I might make a mess” you mumble. you tuck yourself closer to his chest again to escape the burning flush of embarrassment.

pierro knows your body better than you do and even before your own realization, he was able to quickly assess your expression and feel how your cunt pulses around him. he understands what’s happening before you do.

“just focus on me. focus on papa.”

you nod.

it takes a moment to get the courage to move faster, but his cock nestling in your cunt couldn’t placate you. your humps pick up, and your thinking crumbles to know people stood less than 10 feet away, walking past the room. knowing they could possibly be hearing the moist noises of your cunt while you fucked him sloppily. the nervousness wasn't present; instead, a sweltering, mind-breaking urge grew. one that turns your stomach into knots and makes your your knees dig into his hips

“let it out, my dear.”

your legs lock around him, and a disgruntled groan leaves his lips as your pussy clenches.

“daddy. ” your nails scratch him, but he doesn’t flinch nor shy away. his hardened skin from years of ruthless battles could surely withstand the dig of his daughter's nails.

with a petulant whine and submissive arch of your back, your pillowy breasts block his vision while you seize around him. clenching and unclenching, arousal streams down his massive cock and sprays his front in spurts. your hand comes to rub at your clit to ride out the addicting high.

pierro could only watch in awe. how quick and easily you came to make his shaft throb to the beat of dull and erratic twinges.

“pretty girl, you’re going to make this old man faint.”

he presses a kiss on your nipple, holding you while your cunt continues to milk him. he hasn’t yet reached his own high and still he makes no effort to rush your come down. he’s far from a selfish lover, but that was something that came naturally as it’s his job as your father to make sure you are pleased in all aspects.

pierro’s cock remained snuggled inside of you. he pressed light kisses on your skin, as your breathing slows. before you can lose yourself in it, the scratch of his beard makes you pull away. turning up your nose, you make a noise of disapproval.

“you need to shave, daddy.”

he rubs his chin to feel his beard himself. it has been a while since he’s given it a trim. “you don’t like it?”

you take a second to think, staring at the thick gray covering the lower half of his face. “that depends. can I shave it for you?”

his eyes widen a bit, and his head turns away. “that’s . . . dangerous.”

you frown. “then no, I don’t like it.”

pierro laughs, and he rubs the sides of his face against your soft cheek, the hair of his beard uncomfortably prickling your face.

“w-what, what are you doing?” the scratches against your face mushed you two closer. his nose and lips poking you until your lips clumsily collide.

“papa, stop!” giggling, you push him away, but he holds you still. the kiss is uncoordinated at first because of your laughs, but he doesn’t mind it. one peck and then another until your lips are interlocked, moving at a slow pace that manages to steal your breath.

he groans when you move closer, and he guides your hips, hoping to drag more moans out for the rest of the night. feeling his cock throb, you remember he didn’t finish, but it didn’t take long to transition from the playful atmosphere to what it was once prior. the arousal was now thick in the air, weighing you down into submission.

your father picks you up with ease and fucks you like a toy. rough hands resting on your hips drag you up and down on his cock. the schlick schlick of his cum-coated length, plunging so deeply until it kisses your womb.

“cum inside me, d-dada, use me. use me to make you cum.”

“keep talking like that, baby; daddy is so close.” your pussy puffs from his slams. how something so small can manage to swallow his sheer size amazes him. balls slap against your ass, his grip on your body is tight, digging into you, and such a display of strength it was.

“y’r so deep. . my cunny was made for you.” the words are uttered in pauses from the force of his motioning hips. your tits point towards the ceiling—your nipples, perked and moist from his eager mouth, bounce, and the sight makes any remaining coherent thought disperse.

“you’re going to take every last drop of my seed.” it’s not a question but a demand, and like you were taught, you pleasantly comply.

“yes, daddy.” the veins in his arm are pretty and decorative. you look at his flexing muscles the way you’d look at a painting. eyes, absorbing the details that marked his brown skin. sweat trailing down his massive frame.

you want to kiss him, but your wrists are bound by his hand. maybe they’ll bruise later, but it’s not a concern of yours, you only want to see the man above reach his completion.

“make it so full with your cum until it leaks out of my little pussy,” you say barely a whisper, but the effect on him is still the same.

a gruff growl tumbles from his mouth, and his grip grows tighter.

“I'm gonna give it to you. daddy is going to fucking breed you, darling.” he uses your body to pump his cock, losing himself to the massaging of your tight walls.

his cock swells inside your creamy pussy, and then a stream of cum jets out. milky ribbons plugging you to the brim until it spills from the sides.

“ah–thaaat’s it. that’s my little girl .” he grunts. squeezing you tightly, the sound of his mess squelching in the now warm room could be heard. countless nights have ended with him buried in you, and still, your cunt managed to make him feel like a young man.

he rests his head back and swallows audibly to catch himself. you watch him in amusement at his sudden breathlessness.

“just give. . . *whew* papa a minute,” he sighs.

[seouljazzbar]

selfish (m.)

𓃹𓂃𓂃𓃹𓂃𓂃𓃹𓂃𓂃𓃹𓂃𓂃𓃹𓂃𓂃𓃹

about— wonbin’s a musical prodigy, having worked alongside critically acclaimed producers, and now he’s your guest lecturer for the semester. correction, your hot lecturer for the semester (producer!wonbin x f.reader)

author’s note— this is a little rough but i still like the way it turned out! title is from this song if anyone's curious hehe i think it's wonbin coded lowkey

warning— language, teacher-student dynamic, me blatantly lying about new york/nyu, alcohol use, (soft?) dirty talk, fingering (f. receiving), whiny wonbin, oral (m. receiving), teasing, penetrative sex (with a condom!!) 18+ MDNI!!!

word count— 5.3k

Thursdays and Fridays from four to six, those were his office hours. It was difficult to have office hours that fit everyone’s schedule and that was the best he could do given he was only a guest lecturer. Even worse, he wasn’t given an office for said hours due to the deconstructed nature of the city. Going to university in New York was already far from traditional, and the conditions were no exception. But Wonbin didn’t mind, reserving a nice table on the second floor of Gregory's coffee on Broadway. It wasn't much but it was enough for the four or five students who took advantage of the time.

You were one of them. You knew all too well the struggle of falling behind in a class by thinking you had a handle on the material, only to be drowning in confusion come midterms. The class, The Sociology of Pop Music, interested you too much for you to risk completely flopping just because you failed to utilize your resources. But it wasn’t just your grade that you cared about. It helped that the guest lecturer in question was unbelievably sexy, an absolute dreamboat wunderkind who was just barely older than the students he was in charge of. 

Park Wonbin, musician to the stars. He’d worked with countless acclaimed producers, written for most of the Billboard Hot 100 artists, and even put out his own flawless body of work that gifted him one Grammy and several nominations. He was an absolute icon at the ripe age of twenty-two and you were dying to sink your claws into him. Soft and athletic, inky black waves, a bashful smile and a voice that the heavens surely blessed him with. His presence was more distracting than conducive for your precious six-figure education, your thighs clenching together every Tuesday and Thursday that he took his place at the professor’s podium.

But you weren't the only one. Nearly everyone in the class was crushing on him, eyes batting as they asked elementary questions and giggles erupting at even his worst attempts at jokes. You felt like a dime a dozen lusting after him, gnawing your lower lip at the way his back muscles flexed when he turned to write something on the board. Get a grip, you’d think to yourself. You’re fighting for a slot on a list of many. 

So you amused yourself with your self-labeled delusion, daydreaming about him outside of class and showing up to his office hours to clear up even the smallest of questions about the week’s lectures. He was careful with every word, taking his time to cultivate thorough responses to any and all questions you thought up for him, even ones that stemmed outside of the class's margins. 

You still remember the first time you saw him, your jaw nearly dropping to the floor as he entered the lecture hall like any other student. Except he headed straight for the front of the room, placing his bag down at a table near the podium where the staff chaperone was setting up. He picked up the small expo marker that sat on the table, taking off the cap to write wonbin on the white board in messy penmanship before he followed it up with a squiggly smiley face. You knew who he was, his name notorious in the music wing of your school considering what he’d accomplished at such a young age. His looks definitely didn’t hurt, either.

He smiled at you, sitting in the second row waiting for class to start. Most people opted to sit as far back as possible, in the seats that were easier to slip out of the classroom unnoticed. But you sat proudly in the second row, alongside a few other eager students who’d heard good things about the class. His smile felt so personal, the glint of his teeth nearly causing heart palpitations as you smiled back. He didn’t know your name just yet, and suddenly that was your life’s mission; to make this man say your name.

It almost made you think he was giving you special attention with the way he paid close attention to you, his eyes lighting up whenever you came around the coffee shop steps with your notes in tow. He’d even stay past six o’clock if there were too many people before you who needed help, always offering to buy you a cup of coffee or a pastry after having waited for so long. He was so attentive, leaning into your space to look over the notes you took and making sure you were following along correctly. It was hard not to drool over him, especially when you were two of the last people left on the second floor, looking like a couple to the onlooking world. 

“I’m serious! I think I’m gonna ask him out.”

Winter rolled her eyes, closing the magazine that she was never really reading in the first place. "So, what? You'll fuck his brains out in his office and then walk into class like nothing happened?"

"Actually, he doesn't have an office." The thought made you blush, sneaking around with Wonbin while your classmates and professors were none the wiser. The taboo was too hot for you to let go of.

Another roll of her eyes, this time meant for you to see. "___, get a grip. You're just slobbering all over him because he's famous. At the end of the semester, you'll go back to eyeing that one saxophonist."

Winter was numb to the novelty surrounding celebrity and the likes of it. She was a not so struggling artist whose parents funded her entire lifestyle, and it had been that way her whole life. She'd had her fair share of moments in Page Six, and the lavish New York socialite life had grown old for her. Her friends were still in the scene, but she had long since retired. Winter's idea of a fun Friday night these days included watching The White Lotus while experimenting with cookie recipes (with hopes of making it into the NYT Christmas Cookie lineup, of course).

You didn’t tell any of your college friends, though. Sure, the whole university knew that he was guest-teaching a music-related course and that he was unbelievably attractive, but you never mentioned to your friends that you felt something between the two of you. As much as you trusted your small circle of friends, you knew that student-teacher relationships were absolutely prohibited, no exceptions. Knowing this did nothing to quell the insatiable thirst you had for him, or the flutter of your heart every time he locked eyes with you. You were willing to throw caution to the wind for him, knowing you officially had it bad for him the moment you started doodling his name in your notebook. It got to the point where you were ready to make your move, ready to invite him to an apartment party one of your friends was throwing. 

It was a Thursday evening, another night of attending his office hours despite your ninety-five percent in the class. You were the last student left in the final minutes of his office hours, just the two of you at the moderately sized table of the café. Your hands were mere centimeters from touching where they were laid out on the table, his warmth radiating onto you as he penciled in some helpful reminders in the margins of your notes. Just as you parted your lips to speak, he interjected. “I think it would be best if you stopped coming to office hours.”

That was not what you were expecting him to say. “Oh, um. Alright. Can I ask why?”

“You’ve clearly got an amazing grip on the material, and if anything you’re wasting your time showing up so frequently. It would be better if I had the full two hours for the students who are really struggling.” He refused to look you directly in the eyes as he spoke, opting to stare at your notes instead.

“Oh. Okay.” You gathered up all of your notes and pencils as quickly as you could, shoving them into your backpack without caring if the edges curled. The chair skidded back as you stood from it, not bothering with a goodbye as you saw yourself out. It was humiliating, almost, for him to have given you such a backhanded compliment. You started ruffling through your attendance record in the class and decided that you could afford to miss Tuesday, too embarrassed to be seen by him so soon after.

You really dodged a bullet there, then. Just seconds away from making a move on him when he told you that you should stop showing up to the only semi-private time you had together. It made you feel more delusional than ever before, allowing yourself to think he might actually feel something for you, too. You ignored the tears of frustration teasing the corners of your eyes, running off to the subway station that would deliver you back to your lousy campus housing safely.

What you didn’t see, however, was Wonbin nervously pulling at the ends of his hair. He was always such a bad liar but he knew he needed to put on the performance of a lifetime in order to get you to leave him alone. Considering it was quite the opposite of what he wanted you to do. There was something so intoxicating about you, your voice, your lips, your scent, that had him thoroughly fucked for you. Legally, he didn’t feel bad about it. But the professor he was working under, as well as the university, had already told him that under no circumstances was he to have dalliances with any of the students. So there he was, stuck thinking about you and not being able to do anything about it.

He had everything under control, at first. A few stolen glances during class but nothing to raise suspicion, just long enough for it to seem casual. Then it was finding you on social media, careful not to like any posts or to actually follow you, which made him feel like he was in full creeper mode. That was where he decided to draw the line until you started showing up to his office hours consistently, just as gorgeous as ever as you plopped down next to him in full concentration. He let himself indulge for a while, showering you with just a bit of special treatment until he realized he was crossing into dangerous territory. So he drew the line without a second thought.

You felt like you were back in high school, throwing a fit over being rejected by your longtime crush. All he’d done was politely ask you not to attend office hours anymore, but it felt like he’d told you off. You tried to convince yourself that it was because of your education, that you didn’t appreciate him taking away a resource that was proving itself helpful for you. But the real reason, the one you didn’t want to admit, was that you knew he felt it too. The storybook surge of electricity when his shoulder brushed yours and the way he never offered to get any of the other students coffee and pastries. The way he’d sometimes call you by a nickname when you were together or the way he spoke so highly of you in your exam notes. It was more than a one-sided schoolgirl crush and he was denying it just the same as you, and you couldn’t ignore how much it stung.

Saturday night was your chance to forget all about it. A friend of Winter's had convinced her to open up her ridiculously large penthouse for a laidback party, and she reluctantly agreed. You went to the party having skipped Wonbin’s office hours the evening before, successfully resisting the urge to 'drop by' the coffee shop casually; that would've been worse than just going to office hours. You were ready to let loose, your body a bit tense after the marathon overthinking session you had when Wonbin all but rejected you. All done up in one of your favorite ‘going out’ getups, you set yourself at a three drink maximum before starting the trek there.

You arrived considerably late, the party in full swing by the time you stepped off the elevator and onto the floor. There were so many people, sweaty bodies and intoxicated breaths, so much so that you almost missed him. He was leaning up against one of the kitchen countertops, nursing a drink of his own as he chatted with your friends. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the sight, almost annoyed that you ran in the same circles. But you pushed it aside to go talk to them, knowing they’d have a drink in your hand faster than you could make one. “___! You made it!” Wonbin’s eyes shot up to you making your way over to them, a raspy ‘fuck’ making its way off of his tongue. He suddenly felt trapped, nowhere to run as his student joined his little conversation circle. “Have you met Wonbin?”

“Yeah, we know each other. From around.” You avoided his gaze at all costs. “I need a drink.”

Wonbin quirked an eyebrow at you, “You drink?”

“Yeah, is that a problem?”

He cleared his throat awkwardly, shifting his weight to the other foot as he avoided eye contact with you. “I just, you know… Are you old enough for that?”

“Ew, don’t be gross. I’m a uni student, I’m not in daycare. I’m twenty-one, promise.”

You were baiting him, and he knew it. Your anger was directed at him and only him, your bubbly demeanor intact for your friends as you caught each other up on the last month or so of your lives. You had no intention of making this night, or his life, easy. You knocked back the drink your friend Sohee gave you easily, sending Wonbin a sarcastic wink as he stared at you.

Even though your mind was begging you to run, you refused to let him ruin your night. They were your friends, too, and things were only awkward because he made them so. You stood your ground, pretending like he wasn’t even there as the conversation ebbed and flowed naturally, the party music seeming to follow suit. Everything was fine until someone who’d had too many came barreling into the kitchen, spilling their sticky spiked punch all over your legs. You let out a curse as it spilled into your shoes, the sensation far too uncomfortable to ignore.

“Here, go clean up in my bathroom.” Winter handed you the key, sending you off with a gentle shove in the direction of her bedroom.

You didn’t bother locking the door back behind you, knowing you’d be in and out before anyone could miss you. You took the time to freshen yourself up as well, poking around in Winter’s cabinets to see if she had anything exciting or ridiculously expensive. Perfumes, hand creams, serums. Sometimes you forget how rich New Yorkers could be. You turned the light off in the bathroom, turning to leave when you nearly jumped out of your skin at the pair of eyes watching you. “What the hell are you doing in here?”

“You didn’t lock the door back.”

Wonbin crossed further into the room, hands in his pockets as he watched you. Even when you were irritated with him, his charm was able to cut through your faux harsh exterior. “I'm sorry, is this allowed? Or does this count as office hours, too? Should I see myself out so that other partygoers can take advantage of your precious time?”

“___, stop. I was just trying to make a decision based on what I thought was best.”

You scoffed at that, trying to ignore just how close he’d gotten to you. “Yeah, right. There’s only like five people who bother showing up anymore, so I don’t know why me showing up is such a big deal? Like you must think awfully highly of yourself if you th—”

He cut you off with a swift kiss, lips finding yours in the pale lighting of the bedroom as you froze. Time seemed to slow; just barely noticeable, but you could feel it. Like one minute felt like two with his hands cupping your cheeks and his hips pressed against yours. You relaxed into his touch, daring to kiss back as the party outside seemed to disappear. All your senses could focus on was him and the way he seemed to consume you.

He walked you backwards, stopping as you stumbled into a wall. The once innocent kiss grew in desperation, your hands everywhere at once as your  tongues clashed over and over again. It could’ve easily been a dream with how much you’d both had to drink, the taste of tequila fresh on his lips as you begged for more. Your leg hooked around his waist to draw him closer, a gasp slipping from your lips as you felt how hard he was through his jeans. And then he just stopped.

“Fuck, I shouldn’t have done that.” He was breathless, his words not matching his desire as he slowly backed away from you. “This is exactly what I was trying so hard to avoid. I'm your superior, ___, I'd get fired for this.”

Your mind was blank, not a single thought worthy of being voiced in response to him. You knew it was wrong, knew his position could be terminated, but you didn’t care. Not when his touch was so addictive and your name sounded so sweet on his lips.

“This… this never happened, okay? And it can never happen again.”

He stalked off to rejoin the party, leaving you breathless and unsure of if any of that was real. The only evidence was the faint waft of his cologne that stayed behind, taunting you with the memory of his kiss. His soft, heated, spine-tingling kiss that had your head spinning from the feeling of it. Your lips were puffy from it, fingers reaching up to touch them delicately as if you could scare away the feeling somehow. 

Your thoughts were interrupted by him coming back in, locking the door behind him as you fixed your hunched over posture. “Fuck it, fuck this job, I don’t need to be a guest lecturer.” His hands found your hips as he pulled you in once again, kissing you with much different intent behind it. “This is all I've been able to think about this semester.”

You let out a whimper, clawing at his shirt as his teeth pulled at your lower lip. His hands smoothed their way up your body, cupping your breasts through the material of your shirt as you moaned into his mouth. This felt real, no doubt in your mind as you melted like putty in his hands. “Do something.”

His lips migrated to your ear, licking along the shell of it as your head tipped back. “Do you want my fingers?” You nodded sheepishly, cheeks flooding with heat in a sudden wave of shyness. “Then spread your legs for me, baby.” Your body obeyed him without question, legs spreading for him to slip his hand between. He could feel how wet you were through the pants you were wearing, your underwear no match for the arousal he was responsible for. Your fingers fumbled with the button of them, popping it open and dragging the zipper down.

You knew this was a bad idea. Whether you cared or not, having his hand slip past your panties was wrong on so many levels, no matter how good it felt. His reputation and your academic career were on the line, but you couldn’t will yourself to stop him. Not when your body was yearning for more, thighs clenching at the circles he was rubbing against your clit. Not with his lips scaling your neck with kisses that only made your knees weaker than they already were.

Your resolve finally melted when he slipped a finger into your warm heat, the stretch easily out-rivaling anything your own fingers provided. The relief sent you into a spiral of high pitched sighs and moans as he added another, curling them near perfectly against your g-spot.

“Sound so pretty for me, baby. Wanna put your moans in a song.” The thought alone made your stomach twist, visions of riding him in his studio while he held his microphone up to your lips. He could see the shift in your expression at the suggestion, teeth practically destroying your lower lip. “Is that what you want, baby? Wanna be my muse?”

All you could do was nod as the heel of his palm pressed against your clit, your orgasm crashing over you much sooner than you expected. He kissed you through the waves of pleasure, swallowing the pleas of his name and the whimpers from the slight overstimulation of your clit. The cherry on top, though, was when he licked his fingers clean of your arousal without once breaking eye contact. It made you shudder.

Neither one of you knew where to go from that moment on, the heat of it all long gone as you faced reality head on. You zipped your pants back up to break the silence, fluffing your hands through your hair to alleviate any signs of sexual activity before rejoining the party. Not a word to Wonbin before going back like nothing happened, even though the uncomfortable dampness of your panties said otherwise. 

unsaved number, 3:25am

↳ it’s Wonbin, i got your number from sohee. we should meet soon

you, 9:08am

↳ yeah? where?

wonbin, 9:09am

↳ 150 east 14th st, @ 11

you, 9:12am

↳ smh making me get my day started on a sunday morning

His apartment was as well kept as him, minimalistic in all its glory but decorated with his achievements wherever he saw fit. Awards, records, framed lyrics, any and everything he felt deeply proud of. You knew that you shouldn’t be there, no matter what occurred the night before. Wonbin was irresistible, and giving into his invitation was practically asking for trouble.

“I got coffee and bagels, if you’re hungry.”

Not just any coffee, though. Coffee from Gregory's. Of course he’d do something like this, you thought. He's trying to prey on my sentimentality to get me in bed. Kinda smart. “Why am I here, Wonbin?”

“Well as of three o’clock this morning, I’m no longer your teacher.”

You nearly choked on nothing as he smiled at you, pulling up the email correspondence from the Dean. “I'm sorry, what?”

“I never needed that teaching job, anyway. I took it because it felt good helping students, but it was getting to be too much, cutting into my own work time. And then when we crossed that line last night… I knew quitting was just the right thing to do.” He walked gingerly toward you, assessing your reaction carefully as he closed the gap between you.

You looked at him incredulously, brows furrowed as if he’d grown a second head. “Y-you’re not my teacher anymore?”

“I'm not your teacher anymore.” He backed you up against the wall of his foyer, the position eerily similar to where you were mere hours before. Heat rose to your face as he gazed at you, his smirk painfully malicious as his hand cupped your jaw. “Lemme take you out on a proper date. Dinner… the Angelika… dessert.”

Your gulp seemed to echo the walls of his apartment, giving up any and all fronts you were trying to put up. You could feel his lips hovering over yours more than you could see them, the soft hum that reverberated as he asked you if you’d like that. “I'm… not sure we’ll make it to dessert.”

“I thought I taught you last night to always leave room for dessert.” He popped open the first button of your blouse, getting a peak at the lavender bra beneath it. You’d dressed up for him, knowing very well where things could lead and not wanting him to see you in your far less alluring Sunday attire. Your breath hitched at his touch, your mind shouting for you to just wait for the date before crossing any more lines. But there he was, just as sexy as ever, sliding the sleeves of your top down your arms with his forehead pressed against yours. Youd didn’t stand a chance.

Your back was hitting his mattress before you could gather the strength to hold off, more of your clothes in a tangled web on his floor than on your actual bodies. Your skin was saccharine, a sweetener he’d been searching for ever since he could identify its name and he couldn’t get enough of it. Marks of his lips were blooming on every inch he could reach, your body signed with his name in a way you never knew you needed. His name rolled off your tongue like it was the only word you knew, the two syllables your new favorite combination in the entire world.

His hands guided your slip skirt down your legs, discarding it carefully with the rest of your clothes as you tugged impatiently at his boxers. He was hard, dangerously so, and it was killing you not to see him in all of his naked glory. “Canisuckyouoff?” You didn’t even think about it, the words flying out of your mouth before you could even try to stop them.

“Seriously?” You were already flipping the two of you over, inching your way down his legs until your face was leveled with his hips.

“Yes, please. I wanna make you feel good.”

Nothing could’ve prepared you properly for his length springing out of his black balenciaga underwear. It would’ve been a shame if he wasn’t as well-endowed as you wanted, but you were mature enough to know that it wasn’t all about size. Wonbin, however, was all about size. He was probably just barely above average in length but he was thick with veins in all the right places that had you close to drooling all over him.

You licked at his tip in a graze, not enough to satisfy him but enough to get him squirming. Small, agonizing licks here and there that had him fisting at his hair in sheer frustration. You pitied him with a bold lick up the underside, but went right back to the teasing that had him close to tears. “___, fuck, I can’t take anymore of this. I thought you said you wanted to make me feel good.”

“I will, baby, you just have to be patient.”

He whined out, not sure how the rest of the afternoon was going to play out if you kept teasing him so mercilessly. He was just about to beg again for you to touch him when your lips wrapped around his tip, his back arching involuntarily and sending him further into your mouth. A guttural groan accompanied the pleasure pumping through his veins as you bobbed her head along his cock, swirling your tongue around him every so often. You had a primal need for more of him, more of the way he tasted and the precum that was oozing out of him. More of the way his groans switched to melodious moans as his climax neared him, more of the way his face was contorted in pleasure as your hands rubbed at his thighs. 

His orgasm was building up in the pit of his stomach, the twine of tension pulling further and further until he was sure it was going to snap. Your mouth abandoning his cock in favor of his balls almost did the trick, your hand wrapping around him to jerk as you sucked one at a time. He pulled you off of him reluctantly, wanting so desperately to cum in your mouth but knowing he’d regret passing up the opportunity to fuck you. “I have condoms in the drawer.” His breath was ragged as he pointed the drawer out to you, his hair sticking to his forehead as his body heat was skyrocketing. You handed one to him before shuffling back to the bed, letting him climb over you clumsily with his arms supporting his weight.

He tapped his tip against your clit, running it between your folds as you bucked your hips toward his. “That's not fair.”

He slipped inside of you, barely an inch before pulling back out. He repeated the movement over and over until you were gripping at his hips in an attempt to force more out of him. “Isn’t it, though? You had your fun…” You were so wet that it was making it hard for him to keep up, your soaked walls pulling him in with every shallow thrust. “Have you learned your lesson yet, baby?”

You nodded your head furiously, feeling almost embarrassed by how much you needed him. He refused to give up so easily, though, continuing his perfectly angled thrusts that grazed your g-spot just enough to make your hips buck. "Wonbin, please."

His first full thrust had you clenching around him so tightly that he almost came on the spot, the warmth of you wrapped around him so overwhelming that he had to screw his eyes shut. Your eyes fluttered in satisfaction as he filled you to the brim, the stretch burning deliciously. All you could think about was the next time, and the time after that, and how he could stretch you out whenever he wanted to now. He was yours now.

His lips wrapped around your nipple as he slowly dragged himself in and out of you, savoring how tightly you were squeezing him. It was all the anticipation finally materializing into something he couldn’t get enough of. Your moans, your faces of pleasure, your scent, your taste. He wanted as much of it as you’d let him have, for however long you’d let him have it. "Is this what you were thinking of while I was trying to teach you? Hm? Thought about me stuffing you full of my cock?"

The only noise you could manage was a raspy moan, mind completely numbed by the sensation of his skin pressed against yours. You could feel your lips move, saying something along the lines of wanteditsobadbinnie, but the feeling of his nose dragging up the side of your neck distracted you.

Your bodies seemed to mold together as he picked up speed, drilling into you relentlessly as your nails dug into his hips, asking for more. The slap of your skin against each other was his kryptonite as he wrapped your legs around his waist, wanting to hear it again and again until it played in his mind on a loop. He could feel the knot in his stomach warning him to slow down, to relish in the feeling a bit longer, but he didn’t care. Not when your lips were pressed right to his ear begging him not to stop. “Are you gonna cum for me?”

He tried to respond with a ‘yes’, but the absentminded clench of your walls sent him over the edge in a flash. He emptied himself into the condom, trying his hardest to focus all of his efforts on pushing you towards your own orgasm. His fingers found your clit between your sweaty bodies, the rough pad of his thumb orbiting your clit until you joined him in your own throes of euphoria. Your nails clawed down the expanse of his back as your vision blurred, ecstasy replacing every cell in your body as he kissed along your jaw.

The room smelled of sex and the remnants of his body wash, both of you fighting for air as you wrapped yourselves in his sheets. Your fingertips danced across his chest as he watched you wordlessly, face flushed with the evidence of your Sunday afternoon in. “What are you thinking about?” He caught your hand in his, eyes still trained on your face.

“Honestly? Trying to remember if there are any hidden corners in the Angelika where we can have sex.” You looked up at him as he laughed, a smile of your own creeping onto your lips. “What? Too honest?”

“You’re kinda perfect, you know that?”

His lips pressed chastely against your temple. “Yeah, actually, I do.”

[gassymasky]

The Gladiator: Part 2 (18+) Warnings: Rough sex, gay, power dynamic, alluding to punishment, angry sex

I sighed as Maximinus tried, once again, to tempt me into sleeping with him. The prince, noticing my lack of reaction, smirked and decided to step it up a notch.

"Fine," Maximinus says as he undresses. "I hope you don't mind if I join you. It's oh so hot outside." He slips into the bath and he obviously sat next to me. Brushing his pristine, smooth skin against my tan and scarred body.

I could already see he was hard through my Murmillo helmet. The prince, noticing my wondering eye, licked his lips as he went to pour the wine. Making sure to bend over wiggle his hips to show off his plump ass for good measure. He felt that if he just kept teasing he'd soon have me in his grasp.

"I do hope your thirsty," he says as he sit back down and hands me a goblet of wine. "It's from my personal collection. Now why don't you take off that stuffy helmet?"

As he reached for my helmet I gripped his wrist. Maximinus grinned at my reaction. He always knew how to push my buttons.

"Aw come one?" He teased in a sultry voice. "If you continue wearing this I might never see that pretty face." A wrestling match insues as he tries to wrestle my helmet from my head. If it were anyone else I would've killed him but this was the prince. Doing that would only serve to have ME killed.

Maximinus took the chance to rub against my body to distract me before getting a good grip on my helmet.

"Let go," I growl from under my helmet. "You first," the prince teases.

Eventually he manged to pry my helmet off and sending him falling into the water. As he stood back up and wipes the water from his face he sees it. My face.

From my shoulder length black hair to my shimmering blue eyes. My sharp features and stubble gives me a rugged beauty. A scar runs from my right cheekbone down to my chin. All this, combined with my tan muscle, made Maximinus lick his lips.

"Well," his voice low and sultry. "I hoped you be handsome but you've exceeded any standard I had. Now," with that he bends over the edge of the bath and wiggles his hips. "How about you please your prince, wouldn't wanna punish you now would we?"

In the anger and frustration of having my helemt ripped off I decide to give him what he wants. Grabbing his hips roughly before thrusting into him.

"Fuck!" Maximinus cries in pain and pleasure but I don't give him time to adjust. My thrusts snap forward roughly and slam against his prostate as I spank him.

"You like that?" My voice rough with anger and lust. "You like having my dick reshaping your slutty boypussy don't you?"

Maximinus couldn't respond as moans and whines stop him from speaking. The pleasure making it impossible to form a coherent thought let along string together a sentence. I chuckle at this as I rain spanks down on him. One of my hand shoot up and entangle in his hair to pull him back roughly.

This snaps him from his haze and he begins begging. "More, more," his breathy moans fueling me on. "Ruin me my champion! Claim me as your prize!"

My thrusts grow more erratic as my shaft throbs. The prince, noticing I'm about to cum, pushes his ass further into my thrust. With a final, hard thrust I flood his ass with my semen. I growl deeply as he whines.

After a bit I pull out of him and sit back in the tub. I watch as Maximinus reaches down and scoops some cum from his gaping hole and licked it up.

"Not bad," his voice hoarse and breathy from the pleasure. "We'll be doing this a lot more often."

[stairain]

Yes, Professor.

Part 2 to “Bad Idea” -> What follows after a jealous argument between Professor Spencer and his student.

NSFW part 3

Warnings: Dom Spencer, Professor/Student relationship, 10+ year age gap (No defined ages, but reader is over 20, Spencer is under 40), strong power play/dynamic, the nickname “Little girl” is used many times, intimidation, praise, very rough sex, crying, choking, vaginal sex, blowjob, hair pulling, squirting, creampie, breeding, manhandling, degradation, slapping, handcuffs, backshots.   

WC: 6.3K

You swallow at how intimidatingly sexy his aura is, and you look up at him with nothing but lust and love in your eyes. “And.. outside of work.. I’m yours?”

"Yes, that's right." Spencer replies confidently and seductively, as he nods his head. "Outside of work... you're all mine. Do you like that...? The thought that you can have me?" he asks teasingly, smiling a little bit. "The thought that you are mine... and only yours? Does it make your heart skip a beat?"

He moves his hand to play with the collar of your shirt, noticing the way your eyes follow whatever he does. 

You nod almost immediately and your mouth opens in a pleasured sigh.

 “Y-Yes, Sir.” 

"The thought feels good, doesn't it...?"

He leans down closer to you, and his brows arch in faux curiosity, as if exploring this feeling right alongside you. His tone is filled with nothing but desire now.

 "And.. what if I were to..."—He asks as he moves so he is leaning closer to you until he is practically on top of you— "Show you just how good it feels...?" He asks gently as he leans in.

"Would you like that... princess?" His breath grows even warmer as he speaks and you can see how his eyes are filled with nothing but love, lust, and passion.

You start breathing heavier and you feel your heart practically beating out of your chest as you look up at your Professor towering over you. You feel small, weak. But, you nod. 

“I would love that.. Professor. I’m yours.”

"Say it for me, princess..." He says in a hushed voice, as if somewhere were listening. 

"Say it.. say those words, so I know you really feel them." 

Spencer's eyes are locked on yours and the look on his face tells you he'll be waiting until you say those words, no matter how long it takes. You swallow nervously. 

“I’m yours, Professor. I belong to you and only you, forever.” 

A look of pure ecstasy comes onto his face as you say those words  like he's just received the best news of his life, like those words are truly beautiful. 

"Yeah, that's right, isn’t it?" 

He whispers into what thin space sits between the two of you, as he slowly, slowly moves in closer and makes sure to press his body to yours, as you feel his muscles right up against yours. 

"Say it again, Angel.. Say that you're mine again."

You feel his hand snake to the back of your head and softly grab a fistful of hair, he doesn’t pull, just grips it in his strong palm, a ‘gentle’ reminder. 

“I’m yours, Sir.” You moan out as you feel his strong chest pressing into you. He licks his lips at how absolutely wrecked you already sound. 

"That's right, You belong to me.. and only to me, and no one else." 

He adds again in that low, husky tone. His eyes continue to shine and he leans in. Your mouth falls open in a quiet moan as he finally pulls on your roots.

Spencer watches with a dark fog in his eyes at the way you react to the hair-pulling, and a devilish smirk creeps its way onto his face.

"Oh... does that feel good, princess? Does it feel good to know you belong to me?" He questions softly and yet still with a certain intensity to his voice and his eyes, as he leans in a little closer. "Does it feel better when I pull on this pretty little hair of yours...?"  

“Yes, Professor.. It does. It feels so good belonging to you.. It feels so good to have your hands on me..” 

You moan softly when his grip on you tightens, and you can feel his fist twist on your head. At your noises, you can feel him hardening underneath the coarse fabric of his dress pants. He could no doubt feel how soaked you were at this point, even though nothing has happened.

"Oh, sweetheart... I could never put into words just how much I love owning you, I'm not sure there are enough words in the English language to describe it..." 

Spencer leans into your neck to press a wet kiss to it before leaning back looking softly and lovingly into your glassy eyes. 

"You're my life... my entire world... Do you know that, princess? Do you have any idea how much I love you?" He twists his fist harder, and his grip tightens even more. "Can you understand that?"

“Show me how much you love me.. I think I need a little help understanding, Sir.” 

You tease with a bratty smile on your face. A look of determination to get exactly what you want washes over your expression, and he’s quick to catch on.

"Is that so?" He asks, in that low, husky, passionate tone. That same tone that made you press your thighs together in arousal, the same one that was causing you to absolutely soak through the thin fabric of your underwear. 

"I can help you understand, maybe not with words.. But, I can help you in other ways..."

“Yeah? How are you going to do that, Sir?” 

"Well, I can think of a few ways I could show you..." he replies a little bit coyly... "If you're sure you want me to, because once I start to show you there's no going back. Are you ready for that?" 

Despite the explicit nature of his inquiry, the soft, caring tone never left his voice. You nod your head the best you can with his hand in your hair.

“Yes, Sir. I promise I’m ready for it.” 

"Good girl." His grip in your hair suddenly stops as he drops both of his hands to your waist. You’re maneuvered so you’re sitting on his lap, straddling him, and pressed right up against that rock solid bulge of his. 

He slowly starts to kiss down your neck, a soft one. His lips are just barely brushing against your skin, like a feather. And yet, just one touch is enough to send chills down your spine and you know your professor is only going to get more passionate from here.

With his hands on your hips, you take the initiative to start rolling them, brushing your aching cunt over his hard cock. It was too bad there were many layers of clothing beneath you, but you swore you could see the damp marks of your arousal starting to stain his slacks.

"That's right... that's right, babygirl.. You’re doing so well" Spencer groans out at the feeling. "You feel so good... God do you feel good."

You moan louder at his praise, you could never get tired of it. All you wanted to do was please him, and be a good student for him. Your small body shakes in pleasure when he leans in and suddenly bites at the sensitive barren skin of your neck. Marks were the last thing you needed to keep this relationship a secret, but you knew you couldn’t say no to him. 

You were his, you took that vow. 

The rolling of your hips and the grinding of your pussy against him didn’t cease, and when he pulled away from your neck, panting, you know he wants you, needs you, as much as you wanted and needed him. 

“Take off your shirt.” 

Spencer says through his heavy breathing, he already looks disheveled, and you’d be lying if you said it didn't make your heart swell.

You reach for the bottom hem of your top and look up at him with teasing eyes as you expose your stomach to him.

“Like this?”

Spencer nods with blackened eyes as he watches you take your shirt off. He looks down at you and you see that same predatory look in his eyes right now.

 "Yeah, just like that.. that's a good girl." He sighs in a deeply passionate tone "You can be good for me, right? Take the rest off for me."

You nod and sit up fully, then pull your shirt off, leaving you in your bra as you look up at him, awaiting his next command.

Spencer gulps a little bit as you expose the lacy fabric of your bra, his eyes widening even more when he stares at the way you’re practically spilling out of your bra. 

"Get rid of it."

You swallow the spit pooling your mouth but nod nonetheless and get to work immediately. Your hands find the clasp of your bra and quickly undo the hooks. Soon enough, you’re pulling the straps down your arms, and dropping your bra on the ground.

Spencer's eyes follow the movements of your hands as you remove your bra like that. He lets out a deep, slow breath that is filled with the most intense lust for you, as he watches your bra fall onto the ground.

 "Look at you, sweet thing.." 

His hand comes out to cup one of your breasts, thumbing the soft and full skin. You shiver and watch as a smile creeps onto his face when your nipples harden. 

You feel intimidated by his gaze and touch, and you force yourself to speak to fill the thick tension between the two of you.

“What would you like me to do next, sir?”

Spencer chuckles a little bit at the waver in your voice, and then he suddenly moves one of his hands and places it directly under your thighs to change your positions. Then, you’re suddenly laying against the couch with your head resting on the arm, looking up at him as he mounts you. 

"Take off your pants." He commands. "Take all of it off for me."

You nod and your fingers frantically find the zipper of your jeans. Once you unzip them, you push them down your hips. As soon as your pants are off, you’re left only in your thin underwear. You look up at his predatory gaze and feel yourself becoming more and more aroused. 

His eyes flicker down to the wet patch that covers your pussy. He can’t help but lick his lips as his breaths become shallower. 

“Good girl..." Spencer whispers out again, the desire in his eyes is clearly stronger than ever. "Now... turn around..." he adds, and a sinister smile starts to spread across his face. 

You quickly flip yourself around so you’re face down on the couch, and your back is turned to him. Your soft butt almost but not quite pressing up against his hips. 

"Now..." His voice is lowering even further now until it's just a breath. "Lift yourself up a little more, my love."

You arch your back and lift your ass up a bit towards him, listening to exactly what he tells you to do. It practically pains you to stop yourself from backing yourself up onto him, wanting so desperately to feel his heavy cock against you. 

"Oh... that's a good girl." 

His hands reach out to squeeze the fat of your hips, and you can’t help but moan at the thought of him manhandling you.

"See.. Now you're getting the idea." His voice grows even lower, deeper, and louder. And his eyes, oh his eyes. They’re shining with that same look of pure lust, of malice, something that just screamed how much he wanted to take control of you. 

"Just a little bit more..." he adds... "Just lift yourself up a bit more, angel"

You lift your lower body higher and higher until the arch of your body resembles that of a slope. Your head is pressed hard against the soft cushions of the couch, and your ass is proudly facing him. 

"You're so beautiful, baby girl. You're perfect, you're mine.. you belong to me..."

“All yours, Sir. This is all yours..” You sway your hips lightly, taunting him.

Spencer's eyes go wide again, and he pushes himself forward to slot the thick bulge he’s sporting between the defined flesh of your ass.

"You're everything I could ever want, so beautiful.. all mine." 

He moans at the contact of finally being able to rub himself against you, but he forces himself to back away. You huff to yourself when he moves away from you.

"Just one more thing to do." he whispers, more to himself than to you. "Turn yourself around.. turn around."

You turn back around to face him, and when you’re finally facing him once more, you move your hands down to play with the band of your underwear. You look up at him and bite your lip, awaiting his next move.

"You look so good.. So good.” 

His hand reaches out and holds your waist, he curses under his breath.

“Take them off, need to see that pretty pussy of yours.."

You slip your fingers between your skin and the band and begin to pull your underwear down seductively. He’s practically burning your skin with the way he’s looking at you. A moan slips out of your mouth when you find your panties sticking to you. Stringy arousal connects from your cunt to the fabric. 

"That's it. That's a good girl.. show me-" 

Before he can even finish his sentence, you instinctively spread your legs for him. His eyes widen and his smirk grows when his eyes lock on your most intimate area. The soft light in the living room catches the sticky slick dripping from your pussy, and he can’t stop the way his tongue pokes out from his lips and licks over them.

"Turn around once again for me, princess"

You close your legs and squint at him.

“Why don’t you make me turn around, sir?”

Spencer scoffs and reaches out to grab your throat. You try to gasp out in surprise, but find that you can’t

"You've got some nerve, don't you?" he asks with a lustful laugh. "But fine, if that’s what you think you want..” 

Spencer's eyes shine bright with delight at this new bratty attitude you’re sporting, but he knows you’re all talk. He lets go of your throat, and gives you a light slap across your face, a warning. As he takes in what you just said  he lets out a slow breath, and then, with that predatory look still in his eyes, both of his hands are on your body, and without even hesitating, he moves you onto your hands and knees, just like that. 

You moan out in surprise when you’re forced onto your hands and knees by him, you’re fully bare and exposed for him. His intimidating gaze on you makes your skin run hot, and you know he’s staring right at your dripping hole. 

“Oh.. What happened, baby.. Feeling shy, now?"

“Yes, Sir.. I can't help it.” You hide your face in the cushion of the couch as you arch your back further for him. You can feel your folds fluttering around nothing as slick drips down your thighs. 

He takes a deep breath and without another single word to you, he moves so he’s pressed right against you. You whimper at the feeling of the rough fabric brushing against your sensitive and soft cunt. No doubt you’ve soaked his pants now. 

Spencer reaches down to grab another fistful of your hair, and pulls you up slightly. 

"Look at me..." he whispers... "Look at me, when I talk to you. You know better than that, angel"

You immediately turn your head and whimper at his forceful tone. You look up at him from where your cheek is pressed into the couch as you apologize. 

“Yes, Sir.. I’m sorry sir.”

“You say you’re mine, but you can’t even remember a simple rule. You just can’t help but talk back to me.." Spencer whispers as he looks down at you, almost as if you were a treasure, an object that belonged just to him.

"You're my property... nothing but my plaything. You belong to me..." His voice is just as deep as before, growing even deeper as he speaks. "Do you understand?" 

“Y-Yes, Professor.. I belong to you.” You all but wail out at the way he was speaking to you, and the way he was treating you. 

"There you go.. there's a good girl.." 

Spencer smiles as he sees you get broken down by him, he huffs out a heavy breath as the carnivorous look in his eyes only deepens.

“And you love it, don't you..?You love it when I control you like this.. Because you," —He pulls you by your hair again and almost snaps your neck with the force.— “Are such a good little student for me, aren’t you?”  

You can't even bring yourself to words at this point, already too lost in pleasure. You knew how wrong it was, to hold your role over your head like this, especially with something so intimate, and yet you couldn’t stop the way your head spun with arousal.

"And just so there's no confusion, so there's no doubting that you're actually mine.. I'm going to mark you."

Your eyes widen and you open your mouth in protest. But it seems he’s already a step ahead of you. 

“And I don’t give a fuck who asks you about them, you will keep that mouth of yours shut. Understood?” 

Swallowing, you whimper out an answer that somewhat resembles an agreement. 

"How are you going to mark me, sir?"

Spencer smirks a little bit, and you see the look in his eyes completely change now, there’s a stronger sense of dominance washed over him that wasn’t quite there before.

"You're about to find out, little girl..." he whispers, his voice as cold as ice now. "Now. turn yourself around one last time.” 

You quickly turn around, listening to him now seemed like the best option. His tone was more serious than it had been the entire night, you didn't want to see what would happen if you disobeyed him.

Spencer's eyes light up again as you do so, his dangerous look returns at this moment, and as you turn around to face him, he moves to get even closer.

"Good girl, always so obedient when you want to be" He whispers in your ear, making shivers shoot right down your spine. 

"Now... just stay right there. And don't you dare move... understood?" he adds, raising his voice even more.

"Yes, sir. I won't move, I promise, I'll be good for you."

"Oh, I'm sure you will." He almost scoffs, he knows how you can be.

He reaches down, and without another word, he pulls a pair of handcuffs from his pocket  and now that sinister look in his eyes has completely taken over. 

Your breath hitches when you hear the metal clinking together and when you see him holding the cuffs in his hand, a sinister look plastered on his face.

Since when does he carry those around? How long has he been carrying them? 

Is what you’d like to ask, but you’re afraid to speak when you haven’t been spoken to yet. So you opt to stay quiet, keeping those thoughts to yourself.

"What's the matter, hm?" Spencer whispers, as he sees the fear in your eyes. "Are you scared?" he asks, the coldness once again in his voice as he leans in further. He dangles the cuffs right in your face, taunting you. 

"Oh really...?" The brunet asks with a sinister laugh. The look in his eyes remains cold and predatory, and he continues that intense stare into your eyes as his voice grows even lower, his breath heavy and rough, yet, still calm. 

He looks like an animal, a predator who's caught its prey, and is going to take its time devouring it, as slowly, and as painfully as possible. 

"Are you sure about that?" His voice is just as cold and sinister as before, and the hungry look on his face even grows. "Don't lie to me, little girl." 

You shake your head and sputter out. 

"F-Fine.. Fine, I'm scared, sir. You won't hurt me, right?" 

It was stupid to ask, you knew that was exactly what he wanted to do to you. But you had hope. 

"Hurt you...?" Spencer scoffs, his voice is cold, his eyes hold that same look of hostility but the cruelest part is, he's still being polite, like it wasn’t turning him on beyond belief to treat you this way. He couldn’t reveal to you the way his painfully hard cock was leaking into his briefs, absolutely soaking the fabric through, no, he just had to drive you crazy.  

“Oh, I'm much worse than that..." he remarks, smiling in a cruel, sadistic way. "I'm going to break you."

You feel your chest rapidly rising and falling at his words. 

"B-Break me..?"

Spencer nods once. "Oh... yes”, and as he speaks, he forcefully takes your hands where they’re nestled against your body, and skillfully slips them onto you. “I'm going to break you, and once I'm done with you..." He fastens them around your wrists, tight. "You'll never be the same again."

You stay silent as panic fills your brain. Your mind is telling you to get away, but you just can’t. You need this more than anything.  

“You’ll never need anyone else but me.”

The tone in his voice, it’s unfamiliar. The possession in his voice is sickly sweet, he’s never been a jealous person, you were usually the one who worried about that. 

You fidget with the cuffs, trying to escape. You know it’s not possible, but fear seemed to be what turned him on the most right now, and truthfully, if you weren’t fucked soon, you might just truly break the cuffs and ride him until he was the broken one.

You’re broken out of your trance of thoughts when you feel his rough fingers prod at your wet cunt. He uses his fingers to push and separate your folds, and he almost can’t even move them without his fingers slipping, you were just so wet for him.

The professor doesn’t even look up at you when he slides his middle finger into you, watching at the way your pussy hungrily swallows up the digit. He bites his lip at the wet noises you produce, all by yourself. He pumps the finger in and out of you, finally fucking you, but not in the way you really really needed. 

“I don’t know how much more of this I can take, sweetheart. I can practically feel you begging for me.” 

And he was right, with the way you clenched around his single finger, swallowing what little pleasure he gave you. 

“P-Please, Sir. Don’t hold back, I’m yours.. You know I’m yours..” 

You spread your legs wider and despite being cuffed, you reach your hands down to grab the finger that's buried inside of you, and bring it up to your lips, pushing it eagerly inside your mouth to taste yourself. 

With skillful eyes, and an even more skilled mouth, you swirl your warm tongue over his sticky, coated finger, every action you carry out just begging him to fuck you already. 

While you’re sucking on his finger, his unoccupied hand attempts to unclasp his belt buckle, and when you see him struggling, you sit up to help him. But as soon as you reach your hands out to undo his belt, a strong hand slaps you across the face. The finger in your mouth is gone, and all you’re left with is a stinging cheek. 

“Keep your hands to yourself, little girl. Don’t disappoint me.” 

You nod but feel your eyes brim with tears. You’re forced to watch him as he pulls off his belt, and pulls down his work pants. His cock is nearly bursting out of his underwear, you can see how raised the fabric is, and how positively soaked it is. You lick your lips. “Please..” 

Spencer looks up at you and smirks, it wouldn’t be surprising if he were a mind reader, you wouldn’t put it past him. He frees himself from the confines of his underwear, and his heavy cock bobs in the air. You moan at the sight before you could even stop yourself. 

He stands up from the couch and stands in front of you. One of his hands weaves itself into your hair, creating a makeshift ponytail at the back of your head, and the other hand holds his thick length at the base. 

“Yeah? This what you wanted so badly? Open.” 

As if under a spell, your mouth immediately drops open in pure hunger. Spit was already pooling inside your mouth at just the mere sight of his dick. And surely enough, you got your fill. 

He guided his cock to your mouth and slapped the leaking tip against your warm tongue, he moaned out at the feeling, and the grip on your hair tightened. You could see the strings of his precum connecting from the head and your tongue. 

With begging eyes, you look up at him, just pleading to put it in, already. 

And in one quick slide, he sheaths his entire cock into your mouth, stretching your lips around him. Your eyes roll back into your head at the taste of him on your tongue and down your throat, it was heavenly. 

With the ponytail he had created, he begins forcefully moving your head back and forth on his dick, using your warm, tight mouth as nothing but a hole. He threw his head back in pleasure as he face fucked you, like you were some cheap whore. 

The blunt head caught on the rim of your mouth every time he moved you back, and his knees almost buckled at the feeling. Spit and precum absolutely drenched your skin, it was dripping down your chin, and covering the expanse of your neck and chest. 

Through stifled moans and groans, he manages to speak.

“F-Fuck, angel.. Might not even need to fuck you.. Could do this all day..” 

You whined from around your mouthful and tried your best to pout, your attempt not going unnoticed as he let out a breathy laugh. 

He pulls you away from his cock, and lets out one final moan at the way your spit created a web from his tip and your lips. 

“Turn around.”

In an instant, your ass is turned to him. The soft flesh of your unmarked behind tempting him, he wanted nothing more than to spank you, mark you, and fuck you so hard there’d be bruises from his hip bones. 

You bent over the arm of the couch, and your cuffed hands were resting against your arched back. Then, a shaking hand reached out and parted your pussy, and you heard a soft moan. 

“Everything alright, Professor?” You look back at him, and he somehow looks more disheveled than you do. You took a moment to examine his appearance. His hair was sweaty, yet still fluffy. His dress shirt was wrinkled, his tie uneven, and his pants pulled down to his thighs. He was still somewhat fully dressed, and here you were, bending over and exposing your drenched pussy to him. It did nothing to comfort the fact that he had so much power over you, and you were nothing compared to him. 

“Yes, love. Eyes in front of you.”

You nod and turn back around, your heart beating impossibly fast and your breath shuddering. And even though you knew it was coming, when the blunt head of his soaked cock pressed right up against your folds, you couldn’t help but gasp out. But you weren’t the only one caught off guard, you felt the cushion dip under your knees when his body faltered and he doubled over in pleasure, almost collapsing over you. 

“Fuck me, you’re so perfect, princess. Always so wet for me.” 

Spencer reached out and grabbed the chain of the handcuffs and yanked on them, using them as leverage to start fucking into you. He didn’t even bother starting out slow and easing into it, it’s not like you both wanted that anyways. 

His thrusts carried a viscous, predatory, feeling. The way his cock plowed into your fleshy walls, absolutely claiming you as his, nothing about it was loving. This wasn’t about love anymore, he was claiming you as his, making sure to fuck you so hard, mark you so badly, you’d never be able to be fucked by anyone else but him again. 

You could feel him absolutely bashing up against your spot, and it took everything in you not to paint his cock and couch in your cum. You know how disappointed you’d be if you came right now, but then again, he wouldn’t stop for hours if he wasn’t satisfied, even if you had squirted 5 times and were on the brink of passing out. 

It was like he was molding your cunt to be perfectly fit for him, so if anyone ever dared to even try to fuck you like he was right now, it just wouldn’t be right. He pulled against the chain and used it to fuck into you like you were nothing but a sex doll to him. And with the way he was treating you right now, you wouldn’t be surprised if that’s all you were to him.

“Oh my god..” 

You cried out moan after moan into the couch cushion at his thrusts, they were wrecking your body and lurching you forward with each collision of his boney hips against your plushy ass. You push yourself back against him in time with his own thrusts, and he bites his lip with a smile. 

“Such a good little girl, you are.” Spencer lets go of the chain, and picks you up by your waist instead. You yelp out in surprise at suddenly being lifted, not expecting this position at all, but after all, he knew what was best for you. He knew how to fuck you, how to treat you.. You didn’t know anything. 

He begins to aggressively shove his dick into your abused hole, manhandling you and fucking you for all you were worth, which was close to nothing at this point. He dug his fingers into the flesh of your waist and hips as he used you as a personal cocksleeve for him. 

It was like every time he pounded into your spot, a metaphorical bell rang off in his head, signifying success. And if you knew anything about your professor, it was that he was quite the overachiever. 

The puffy lips of your pussy stretched as you were stuffed full by his cock, and your only choice now was to sob and scream in pleasure, letting him use you. It’s all you were good for, and you always wanted to be so, so good for him. 

"Tell me who owns you, who owns this pretty little pussy..”

Your superior groaned out through the heavy breaths and hostile slapping that filled the room. You lifted your head the best you could and stuttered out. 

“Y-You.. I belong to you, Professor. No one else..” 

Spencer's breath grows a little bit heavier at this moment and his hungry gaze looks at you almost like you are some precious object, some beautiful treasure that belongs to him.

"That's right," Spencer moans out.

"Now make sure you remember that... my little girl."

How could you possibly forget? You had no one else, he was your everything. Your entire world. 

“I-I won’t, sir.. I promise.” 

You sob out, and feel yourself reaching your limit, the imaginary rubber band inside of you was being pulled farther and farther inside of you. With each pass of his long, thick, and hard cock inside of you, it was like he was stretching the band past its limit, seeing just how far he can pull it. 

A cruel smile spreads across his face as he begins to fuck you harder. His thrusts become sloppier, and you can certainly feel your slick and his precum already splashing out of your already stuffed full pussy. Your thighs are sticky, and the liquid becomes tackier every time his own thighs slap into yours. You’ve never felt dirtier. 

  “Sir- Sir.. Pl-Please..” 

At hearing your words, he lets go of your hips and waist and slams you back down onto the couch, pushing your head into the cushions and pressing your upper body into the soft surface. He forces you into an almost painful arch, just to fuck you like an animal in rut. His movements and sounds were primal, you felt like a piece of meat, and he was doing everything he could to leave no scraps left. 

“Shut the fuck up. You want to be a good girl for me? Then keep that pretty mouth shut.” 

He fucks into you even harder now, no doubt bruising the sensitive skin of your ass. You were being pushed way past your limit, but you held on for him, you wanted so desperately to be good for him, even if it was too much for you to handle, you wouldn’t cum until he let you. 

You buried your face into the couch and just let him hump into you, you clenched around him in pure need for nothing more than to explode around him. He all but growled at the feeling, and it only spurred him on to fuck you deeper. 

“My god, angel. You have no idea how hard it is to resist you..” You want so badly to tell him to not resist you then, but you know if you even attempted to open your mouth right now, you wouldn’t be cumming. 

You might be hallucinating it, but you think you hear him whine. Maybe you really did feel as good as he was making it seem, and when you feel his thrusts begin to falter and his breathing becoming erratic, you know you weren’t imagining it. You rendered him weak. 

“My little girl.. All mine, aren’t you? No one can fuck you this good, no one cares for you the way I do.. You’ll never need anyone else after this, only me.. Forever.” 

His words seem to not only urge himself on and his own release, but yours as well. Before you can even think about the consequences, the rubber band snaps. Your eyes roll back into your eyes in an almost exaggerated way as you feel every muscle in your body relax. 

And you absolutely paint him in your release. You gush around his thick cock, almost pushing him out of your hole at how hard you’re squirting around him. He feels the warm rush of liquid burst around him and positively soak his work pants, and his eyes just about completely darken at that point. 

“Oh my fucking god, Sir..” 

You feel your liquids coat your legs, the couch, and your professor. You’re sobbing at this point, your mouth hangs open and you drool from how dumb you’re being fucked. You’re soaking the couch in every liquid possible, all for him. 

“Just couldn’t hold it, could you, princess? So fucking bad, can’t listen to a single thing I say..” 

Spencer feels his resolve crumble down in front of his very eyes, as his mouth drops open in a painfully loud groan and he spills into you with everything he has. Warm, white, and thick. He explodes inside of you, but his cock was simply too big to let it leak out. So despite his release, he fucks his cum into you. 

His sperm bulges around his cock, coating himself inside your pussy. His hand reaches down to where you’re collapsed on his couch, and he grabs you by your throat. You try to moan but feel the air around you immediately become thinner. Leaning down and pulling you up, the two of you meet in the middle as he continues to hump you. 

“You know you’re such a good little girl for me, letting me use you however I like. God you’re so good, aren’t you?” 

His tone is so condescending in your ear, and you feel so wrong for letting it turn you on as much as it did. Your eyes roll back into your head, either from being choked, or because of the way he talks to you, you play it safe and assume both. 

With a final thrust, he moans loudly into your ear and throws you back down onto the couch. A sex doll, it’s all you were. 

Through pants and heavy breathing, he grabs himself at the base of his cock and pulls out of you. And god, you’re gushing when he leaves you empty. His cum immediately flows out of you like a fountain. His thick, hot release runs down your abused pussy, making you feel all the more used. 

And in a complete 180, the older man is suddenly pulling you into his lap, stroking your hair softly, letting you cry into his still clothed chest. He’s shushing your cries, trying to get you to calm down. 

You can still feel his release leaking out of you and onto his pants, but he doesn’t care in the slightest. Not when you’re this vulnerable for him. 

“Shhh, it’s.. It’s okay, angel.”

He brings your face to his and pulls you in a tender, sweet kiss. Like he was a completely different man from the one who was breeding you just a moment ago. He cradles you in his arms, and you feel safe, cared for, desired. 

The professor coos into your ear, praising you, letting you know how perfect you are, and how much he absolutely adores you. You find yourself smiling at the praise. 

But despite all his love and care, you couldn’t help but feel deep down, you’ll always just be a teacher’s pet to him. 

[jackethockey]

No shame

Summary: You are a sports reporter for the NHL when one day you have to report for the New Jersey Devils. You get told you would be interviewing the star of the show, Jack Hughes. You decide to go to a bar after the game where Jack and some of the team also go. While there, you notice Jack came up to you to ask your opinions on the game. You can't help but find the two of you wrapped up in a conversation about hockey. He offers one day to go out for dinner to talk more about hockey. When the night grows on, he invites you back to his place to keep it going. Once there he can't help but just stare at you with lust in his eyes. This leads to a night you will never forget.

Warnings: smut, sex, cursing, begging

Word count: 3241

“Got no shame, I love the way you're screaming my name.”

The atmosphere in the Prudential Center buzzed with excitement as the New Jersey Devils took the ice for their warm-ups, the smooth strokes of their skates carving circles on the gleaming surface. As a dedicated sports reporter for the NHL, you had been handed the enviable task of conducting an interview with the young superstar, Jack Hughes. Your heart raced as you put on your headset and took your position rink side. The lights grew brighter, and the music grew louder, setting the stage for your encounter.

Jack glided over effortlessly, his piercing blue eyes meeting yours as he leaned in for the microphone. The electricity between you both was palpable, even through the protective barrier of his helmet. You exchanged pleasantries before diving into the meat of the interview, discussing strategy, team dynamics, and his personal aspirations for the season. His voice was confident, yet had a hint of charm that was impossible to ignore.

As you wrapped up, Jack gave you a smile that seemed to light up the entire arena. And then, with a playful wink, he pushed off and returned to his teammates. You couldn't help but feel a flutter in your stomach. The interview had gone better than expected, but it was his casual, yet knowing, gesture that lingered in your mind.

After the exhilarating game ended in a victory for the Devils, you decided to unwind at a nearby sports bar. The place was packed with fans, still basking in the glow of the win. To your surprise, Jack Hughes and some of his teammates sailed through the door, the sound of their laughter and camaraderie piercing the din. You kept your distance, not wanting to intrude on their celebrations. But fate had other plans.

Jack spotted you from across the room, and with a beer in hand, he navigated through the throng of bodies. He approached with the same confidence he had on the ice, and suddenly, he was standing right in front of you, his eyes locked on yours.

"Hey," he said, his voice a warm contrast to the chilly evening outside. "Great game tonight. What'd you think?"

The question caught you off guard. Here was this NHL phenom, asking for your opinion on the very game he had just dominated. You took a sip of your drink, trying to compose yourself, and shared your thoughts on the team's performance. His genuine interest in your analysis was disarming. You talked for what felt like hours, the conversation flowing as naturally as a perfectly executed breakaway. It was clear that Jack Hughes was not just a star on the ice; he had a charm that extended far beyond the boards.

The evening grew late, and the bar began to empty. As you said your goodbyes, Jack handed you his phone number with a wink, hinting at the possibility of a future off-the-ice rendezvous. With a racing pulse and a grin that wouldn't quit, you walked home through the quiet Newark streets, the echoes of the game and Jack's inviting smile playing on repeat in your mind. Little did you know, this chance encounter was about to rewrite the script of your life.

Days turned into weeks, and the memory of that night at the bar grew stronger with each passing day. You couldn't shake the feeling that Jack's wink and the way he had looked at you during the interview meant something more than just a friendly gesture. As you continued to cover the Devils' games, you found yourself eagerly waiting for any glimpse of him, hoping for a repeat of that electric connection. And then, one evening, as you sat in the press box, you received a text message that made your heart skip a beat:

"Hey, it's Jack. How about that dinner we talked about?"

The anticipation grew as you picked out the perfect outfit and rehearsed conversation topics in your mind. The night of the date finally arrived, and you met him at a cozy Italian restaurant, his eyes lighting up when he saw you walk in. The chemistry between you was undeniable, and the conversation flowed as freely as the wine. He talked about his love for the game, his family back in Michigan, and his hopes for the future. You shared stories from your life as a sports reporter, the thrill of live events, and the people you've met along the way.

As the evening progressed, you realized that Jack was not only a phenomenal athlete but also a thoughtful and kind-hearted person, with a maturity that belied his years. The air was thick with the scent of garlic bread and the promise of something more. With each laugh and shared glance, the walls between interviewer and interviewee began to crumble, revealing the possibility of a relationship that could be as thrilling and unpredictable as a sudden-death overtime.

As you were talking, Jack offered you to go back to his apartment to keep the conversation going. You kindly accept and head off. Jack's apartment was modern and spacious, a reflection of his successful career. You followed him in, feeling both nervous and exhilarated. He led you to a comfortable living room, where a large, plush couch beckoned. As you settled in, removing your coat, the conversation between you flowed as naturally as it had at the bar. However, as the fabric of your coat slipped away, revealing the dress you had meticulously chosen for the evening, Jack's gaze lingered. He swallowed hard, and his eyes remained fixed on you, a silent appreciation of your beauty that made you blush.

You looked up, catching him mid-stare, and asked, "Is everything okay?"

Jack took a deep breath, breaking his trance. "You look... amazing," he said, his voice thick with genuine admiration. "I mean, you know, on the ice, you're all professional and focused, but here, off the clock, you're just... wow."

You couldn't help but laugh at his candidness. "Thank you," you said, feeling the warmth of his compliment. "But, what about the game? Did you think the team played well tonight?"

Jack nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. "Yeah, they played great," he murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine. The energy in the room shifted, the tension could be cut with a knife. He took a step closer, and you realized that the conversation had evolved into something much more personal.

Without another word, Jack offered his hand, and you took it, allowing him to lead you to the couch. As you sat down, the proximity between you was undeniable. You could feel the heat of his hand in yours, and the thump of his heart seemed to match the rhythm of your own. The air was charged with potential, and you found yourself leaning in, eager to hear more about his life outside the rink.

As the conversation grew deeper, you felt the weight of the evening's events pressing down on you. The attraction was undeniable, and it was clear that Jack felt it too. With every shared smile and every brush of your fingers against his, the pull grew stronger. Yet, you remained professional, keeping the conversation focused on the game and the season ahead.

As the conversation grew more intimate, you found yourselves sitting closer than ever before. Jack's hand reached over and gently brushed a stray strand of hair from your face, his thumb lingering on your cheek for a moment too long. The touch was feather-light, but it sent a jolt through your entire body. His eyes searched yours, looking for permission, and you realized that the line between professional and personal had grown blurrier than ever before. You leaned in, and Jack met you halfway, his lips capturing yours in a soft, lingering kiss. It was a moment that seemed to defy the very fabric of time, leaving you both breathless. When you pulled back, the world around you had changed. You knew that the dynamics of your relationship had shifted, and there was no turning back. 

The attraction you had both felt from the start had just been given the green light, and the excitement was intoxicating. But with great power comes great responsibility, and you both understood the delicate balance you'd have to maintain between your budding romance and the demands of your respective careers. You sat back, a little dizzy from the rush of emotions, and took a deep breath. "Jack," you whispered, your voice trembling with excitement, "This...this isn't going to affect our work, is it?"

Jack's eyes searched yours, a mix of passion and understanding swirling within. "No," he promised, "it won't. But it's going to make every game a little more interesting, don't you think?" His smile was infectious, and you couldn't help but return it. This was the start of something special, something you had never seen coming. But as you sat there, hand in hand, watching the flickering shadows from the street lamps play across the walls of his apartment, you knew that you were ready to face whatever challenges might come your way, both on and off the ice.

Jack's eyes searched yours with a fierce intensity, his thumb still gently caressing your cheek. He took a deep breath before speaking. "You know, I've always been taught to treat women with the utmost respect," he began, his voice low and earnest. "But right now, all I can think about is how badly I want to rip that dress off you and take you right here." His words were raw and unfiltered, a stark contrast to the respectful demeanor he had maintained throughout the evening. The hunger in his voice was unmistakable, and it sent a thrill through you.

You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks as his hand slid down to grip your waist. His grip was firm but gentle, a silent promise of the passion he was holding back. You knew that this moment was pivotal, that the line between professional and personal had been crossed, and there was no going back. But as you looked into his eyes, all you saw was honesty and desire. You wanted him just as badly.

Taking a moment to gather your thoughts, you whispered, "Jack, I feel the same way." Your heart was racing, but your voice was steady. You knew the risks of mixing business with pleasure, but the pull was too strong to resist. With a nod of understanding, Jack leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was anything but gentle. His hands roamed your body, exploring every curve and contour with a hunger that was as overwhelming as it was exhilarating.

The air grew thick with lust as you both succumbed to the desire that had been simmering beneath the surface. Clothes began to fall away, revealing the athletic physiques that had been hidden beneath layers of fabric. The sound of zippers and fabric hitting the floor was a symphony to your ears, each note bringing you closer to the moment you had both been craving.

Jack's hands cupped your breasts, his thumbs teasing your nipples. You gasped into his mouth as he lifted you onto his lap, your legs wrapping around his waist. The feel of his bare skin against yours was electrifying, sending sparks through every nerve ending. His kisses grew more urgent, his tongue delving into your mouth as if he was trying to claim you as his own.

You broke away for a moment, panting and breathless. "Jack," you murmured, your eyes locked on his, "I want this. But we need to be careful."

Jack's eyes searched yours, a hint of vulnerability in his gaze. He nodded, his voice a gruff whisper. "I know," he said, "but right now, I just can't get enough of you."

And with that, you gave in to the passion that had been building between you, allowing Jack to guide you to a place of unbridled pleasure, where the only thing that mattered was the feeling of his body against yours. The world outside the apartment ceased to exist as you both became lost in the heat of the moment, the line between reporter and player, fan and athlete, forever blurred by the intensity of your shared desire.

With a fiery need that had taken over both of you, Jack positioned you so that you were straddling his lap, your legs wrapped around his waist. You could feel the unmistakable pressure of his hard, throbbing cock through the fabric of his pants, and it only served to heighten your own arousal. The wetness between your legs was a testament to the desire that had been simmering since the moment you had first met. The anticipation was exquisite torture, and all you wanted was to feel him inside you, to claim him as much as he was claiming you. His hands gripped your hips, guiding you closer, as if he could somehow absorb the heat of your want through the barrier of your clothes. Your breathing grew ragged, and you found yourself rocking slightly against him, desperate to relieve the ache that had taken up residence in your core. 

The feeling of his length pressed against you was maddening, and you knew that you wouldn't be able to hold out much longer. The connection between you was more than just physical; it was a magnetic force that neither of you could resist. With a low growl of need, Jack stood up, lifting you with him, and carried you to the bedroom, where you both knew the night was about to reach a crescendo that would change everything.

The bedroom was dimly lit by the glow of the city outside, casting a soft light across the room. Jack laid you gently on the bed, his eyes never leaving yours as he peeled away the layers of your clothing. The anticipation was almost too much to bear as he revealed your naked body to him, his gaze filled with awe and hunger. You felt exposed, but also incredibly powerful, knowing that this man, this hockey god, wanted you just as much as you wanted him. His own clothes followed, revealing his muscular chest and the V-cut abs that had made your knees weak during your first interview.

As he climbed over you, the heat of his body enveloped you like a warm blanket on a cold winter's night. His cock, now free from the constraints of his pants, stood tall and proud, a testament to his arousal. You reached down to stroke him, feeling the velvety skin and the pulsing vein beneath. His eyes rolled back in pleasure, and he let out a low moan that sent a shiver down your spine. 

Jack's eyes burned with desire as he positioned himself at your entrance. He took a moment to appreciate the beauty of the moment before he pushed himself into you, his thick, hard cock filling you up inch by inch. You couldn't help but moan out in pleasure, the feeling of him inside you was more than you could handle. He took his time, savoring every moment, his movements deliberate and precise. You wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him deeper, your moans echoing through the room. He began to move with more urgency, his hips thrusting into you with a steady rhythm that had you gripping the bedsheets.

Jack was vocal, his grunts and groans of pleasure fueling the fire between you. "Fuck, you feel amazing," he murmured against your neck, his breath hot against your skin. His words only served to make you wetter, and you found yourself screaming his name, the sound of it leaving your lips over and over again. The more you screamed, the more he loved it, his thrusts growing harder and faster, each one aimed at pushing you closer to the edge of ecstasy.

Just as you felt the first tremors of an orgasm building within you, Jack abruptly stopped, a wicked smile playing on his lips. "Not yet," he whispered, his voice low and seductive. He loved the sound of your desperation, the way you begged for him to keep going. It was a power play, one that had you squirming beneath him, your body begging for release. "Beg for it," he ordered, his eyes dark with lust. And so you did, whispering pleas into his ear, begging him to give you what you needed. The anticipation was unbearable, the ache in your core demanding relief.

Finally, Jack relented, his hips moving once more with a renewed fervor. His thrusts were now punishing, each one pushing you closer to the brink. "Jack, please," you begged, your voice hoarse from the screams of pleasure. And with that, he gave in, his movements becoming more intense, his grip on your hips tightening. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the air, a testament to the passion that had taken over.

You felt yourself teetering on the edge, the pressure building until it was almost too much to handle. And just as you were about to shatter, Jack's eyes locked onto yours, his own climax approaching. "Cum for me," he growled, and with those words, you let go, your body convulsing around him as waves of pleasure washed over you. The sight of your release was all it took for him to follow, his cock pulsing deep inside you as he reached his peak, groaning your name in victory.

As the intensity of the moment began to subside, you both lay there, panting and sweaty, the aftershocks of your passion still rippling through your bodies. You couldn't believe what had just happened, but as you looked into Jack's eyes, you knew that this was just the beginning of a new chapter in both of your lives. The connection between you had been undeniable from the start, and now it had taken on a whole new dimension, one that was as raw and real as it was unprofessional.

But in that moment, you didn't care about the consequences; all that mattered was the feeling of Jack's arms around you, the sound of his heart beating in sync with yours, and the promise of a future filled with passion and excitement that could only come from mixing love with the fast-paced world of professional hockey.

[thatloveislikea-star]

At @brighteststarz request, here are some starcest recs!!

These are just a few of my favorite complete fics, I ran out of steam because I read so much so I might do another list later 😂 a lot of these authors have WIPs that are really amazing, so check those out if you like to follow along

An absolute classic, Want, by Saras_Girl

So good, really interesting family dynamics in Rapture on the Lonely Shore by @tenrousei-kuroi, check out their other starcest too! Another one I love of theirs is Capacious as the Sea

The Mind of Madness by phantasmaraneae is so good I’ve read it so many times

Really really hot, includes James, Little Lion by @tracingpatternswrites

I thought family planning by heated_mausoleum was funny

Heat wave by heartshapedbathtub is one of the hottest things I’ve ever read, definitely read it if you like bunny stuff, they’ve written a few more fics too

Constellations series by Evandar, has two fics, both so good, also Toujours Pur is really sweet

Winner Takes All by @the-invisibility-bloke, it’s hot, it’s funny, it’s charming, it’s perfect

Pretty much everything by @faeries-withspirits , but some favorites are Cherry Waves, Morning Glory, Starbursts (bring me back to life), Down the black hole of my lust I descend, Secret Shows in Shower Stalls. Definitely check their other fics out if you like celestial quad (reg/siri/rem/james) also their WIPs are so good

@thepsychiatristgirl exclusively writes bangers, like And All Was Well, my pussy tastes like pepsi cola (my eyes are wide like cherry pies), and speak in tongues (til you listen). That last one is celestial quad, it’s just too good to omit

Baby, it’s cold outside by @andwaitforthespark is so so so good, their WIPs are amazing, and the house always wins only has one chapter left!

@melissamwrites is one of my favorites, especially Black Holes, please check out their other works, especially their WIPs, especially Wormhole (though it is celestial quad and not just starcest) ALSO they make podfics!!! Check those out for sure!

Underneath the mistletoe by Sirci is one of the sweetest starcest fics ever, they have some other really good fics you should check out!

I love JBlackMalfoyRosier’s smutty little Blackcest series, if you like infidelity, it’s for you!

constellations, collisions, and other ways to say love by @matthewfairhoe is a brilliant two-parter

The Arrangement by rattlesnake_black, technically its wolfstarcest, but the dynamic between Regulus and Sirius is gold, and Remus is a hot bonus

@cassetteinability has some amazing fics, like All night long, need, sweet stars, Friends and brothers and lovers (take care of me) that last one does have James involved

Make Your Dreams Come True by @goldenbi is so hottttt

[wasawattpadkid]

Housewife

Part - 3

Summery: Billy and Stu have been planning these murders for quite some time. Everything is going to plan until you show up. What happens when they meet someone who is just as mentally deluded as they are?

Pairing: poly!ghostface x fem!reader

Warnings for this series: murder, blood, smut (will be more in depth on smut chapters), power dynamics, a dash of sexism, knives, stalking, perverse behavior, cheating, masturbation

Part 1

Billy normally did this sort of thing with Stu. He had a feeling his friend would be upset that he went alone. That's something he'd have to deal with later. Your room was on the second floor with no obvious way up to the window. If you were the only one home he'd find a way in. With current company that wasn't exactly possible. Binoculars, cellphone, and his trusty voice changer, were all he had to work with. Doing this sort of thing without a knife was unusual.

He positioned himself where he could see your bed and the posters adorning the walls. Rear window, The Birds, Vertigo, and Psycho. You were an Alfred Hitchcock fan. "And Stu said you didn't have good taste in movies." He scoffed. Billy shook his head the binoculars close to his eyes. He watched as you walked in the room towel wrapped around your frame. One foot closed the bedroom door behind you. You looked to the window as you slowly dropped your towel. Did you know he was out here?

That was impossible. It was pitch black outside with the exception of the moon. Billy watched as you pulled the dress from the bag. A smile lit up your face which in turn brought one to his lips. A sense of pride filled Billy's chest knowing he picked it out. Once again your eyes found the window looking out as if someone was right on the other side. Slowly you pulled the fluffy nightgown over your head, the frill dropping right under your ass. Billy's hand slipped down his abdomen resting over his zipper.

You grabbed the matching panties from the bag dragging them up your legs letting the elastic slap your skin. Moving away from the window you looked yourself up and down in the mirror. Billy and Stu knew what they were doing when they bought you the nightgown. You spun letting the dress drift around you. Air seemed to catch in your throat as you got happy. A smile so painful your cheeks hurt, was one of the many indications you were elated with the gift.

The only thing you could think that would make it better was some music. Walking to your records you grabbed the worn out 45 listed under M for Monroe. Lifting the wooden cabinet cover you sat the vinyl down placing the needle in the first groove. Within a second "I wanna be loved by you" filled the room. You mouthed the lyrics as you danced around. That giddy feeling only getting stronger. Your hands slid up and down your body as if you were the best stripper on a Saturday night. It was classy though and Billy took note. The dancing wasn't the best, if you could call it dancing. It was like you were in love with yourself and the world around you. Playing around with the air that filled the room.

Billy started softly rubbing the bulge that began to strain again his dark jeans. His eyes never leaving you as you danced for an audience of one. Your towel dried hair swug around sure to fling left over water. You were his own personal burlesque dancer. Billy's hips grinded up into his palm. The knuckles wrapped around the binoculars began to turn white with his grip. He had no clue what song could make you ooze with such lust but he needed to use it to his advantage. You were walking innocence. Something he lacked throughout his life. You weren't stupid, you were incredibly brilliant. Every move you made it was intentional. You were putting a show just for him.

His hips quickened as the pressure grew. Little whispers of encouragement fell on deaf ears. Billy needed your glossy lips around him. He needed the hem of that frilly little dress to fall over his lap as you bounced happily. He needed... You. "Fuck!" He cursed through gritted teeth. He needed new underwear. "Fuck." He dropped the binoculars by his side to assess the damage you caused. The mess you made. A small damp spot began to make an appearance through the denim next to zipper of his jeans. Ignoring the uncomfortable mess he picked the binoculars back up noticing you were now buttoning up your pajama shirt. "God damnit!"

Now that your little burst of energy was over you were ready to crawl in bed. You switched the record over to something more peaceful, one that would take longer to end. Billy put the binoculars down to focus on the phone number staining his hand. His finger tapped the buttons double checking the numbers before hitting call. He could hear the ear piercing ring all the way outside. Before you could answer he pulled the voice changer from his pocket.

Quickly you leaned over grabbing the phone off the receiver. Placing it right back down with a click. It was too late for anyone to be calling. Billy took a deep breath redialing the number. Once again the phone screamed for your help. "Hello?" You asked politely to Billy's surprise seeing as you were obviously upset at the intrusion. You hoped it was Billy. "Hello.." He spoke not really sure where to go with this one. Well at least you know who it's not. You picked up the phone sitting the receiver on the bed next to you. You got comfortable with the phone resting against to your face. "Hi what's up?" You spoke. No asking 'who is this?' or 'why are you calling?" Maybe you were a little dumb.

"Um-" Billy cleared his throat thinking of a quick response. "The sky." He squeezed his eyes closed in shame. His eyes opened to find you with a smile. A small laugh could be heard over the phone. "Okay smartass what's down?" This was stupid. You were supposed to angry at the caller, suspicious even. Who calls a girl all alone at this hour? "The ground." You laughed clapping your hands. "That's right! Not too bad mystery man. But what do you need? Why'd you call?" Finally.

"What if I just wanted to talk?" You scooted yourself underneath the covers thinking about the caller. "Okay but I'm not doing no weird shit. You can call one those sex hotlines for that." Billy smiled at your assertion. "Fair enough. Who might I be speaking to?" It was a test. You barley gave him a name when you first met he doubted you'd give it to a psychopath on the phone. "I would say we could exchange names but what's the fun in that? I don't know you, you don't know me. What's your favorite song?"

The question was out of left field so much so he wasn't ready for it. "What's yours?" He asked to your disappointment. Billy saw the sad look on your face. "Am I talking to Socrates right now? I asked first." Billy begrudgingly gave out his answer. "1979 by the Smashing Pumpkins. Now what's yours?" You nodded your head at the answer. It seemed fitting. "Oh gosh." You sighed. "I honestly don't have a favorite. And if I did it would change next week. Have you heard Landslide by Fleetwood Mac? It's really popular you probably have." You took a deep breath in. Sighing out the air in one go. "Anyways I really like that one. It's kind of sad though if you think about it."

Billy sat listening to every word you said. "Your turn." He always had the most important question on hand. Billy wasn't really sure if he wanted to ask knowing what normally happened afterwards. "Do you like scary movies?" Billy put down his binoculars focusing on just your voice. "I'd say I do. I like a very specific genre of scary movies though." Billy sat up listening closer if that was possible. "What do you mean by that?" The voice on the phone became lower sending a slight chill down your spine. "Everyone likes scary movies to be bloody. The more guts and gore the better. You don't have to have that to make a scary movie. Vertigo is scary but there's practically no blood and Rear Window is one of the best movies made about a murder with no body ever being seen."

"Scary movies should get inside your head, make the viewer wonder if they are next. Make them wonder if they are just as screwed up as the villain." Out of everything you could've said he wasn't ready for that. "You are very smart girl." Billy didn't intend for it to come off as sexual. However you definitely took it that way. "Has anyone told you that you've got a very attractive voice?" Billy smiled holding back a laugh. "Is that so?" You nodded as if he could see you. "Yep. Anyways it's getting late mystery man. I'm going to get some sleep. Sleep well okay?"

"Okay. Goodnight mystery girl." Billy whispered into the phone. For the first time he was the one to hang up. To end the call without screams on the other end. It made him feel surprisingly good. The light in your room turned off letting him know you were actually going to bed. Billy quietly packed up his things and started the walk to his car. He wasn't sure if this little talk changed anything for you but it definitely changed things for him.

Part 4

Taglist: @katie-tibo @danodoll21

[hitomisuzuya]

can we please have more servant Scaramouche smut plsss🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽 hes so hot please I love dom serv scara it’s so hot

fem reader too

scenario is your choice

Dom!Servant!Scaramouche x fem!reader. Smut. Degradation. Choking. Dirty talk in the beginning.

Writing Dom!Scara is my absolute favorite 😳🤤

You and Scaramouche had a very interesting dynamic. He was your servant, sure, but sometimes, most times even, it looked reversed.

Scaramouche loved to wind you up verbally, especially during meetings. He loved to see you squirm, and try and concentrate while he whispered lewd things in your ear with his hand creeping up your thigh.

He smirked when he saw you glancing at his hand. He let out a soft, dark chuckle into your ear. "You are tensing up already, and my hand isn't even between your legs yet."

Your cheeks flushed, and you tried to ignore it. You fidgeted in your seat.

His tongue flicked out to lick the shell of your ear. Scaramouche had no shame in behaving like this. Your reactions were always just so good. "What's the matter, master," He sounded so condescending that it made your heart pound. "Are thoughts of my fingers filling your greedy cunt all you think about?"

You almost moaned outloud. Arousal was starting dampen your panties, your clit beginning to throb from the mere sound of his voice. And Scaramouche knew it. Drawing in a shaky breath, you moved your legs apart slightly for him under the table.

You felt his finger poke the side of your head. Someone had asked you a question. One you didn't even hear.

"Go ahead, answer them. Tell them how you would rather be cumming all over my fingers instead listening to his stupid question," He taunted, his hand groping up your thigh. Just to tease you, he grazed and rubbed the knuckle of his index finger against your clit outside of your underwear.

Your clothes were in shreds on the floor of your room. You were fucking yourself so perfect onto his cock as you bounced on it. One hand a bruising grip on your hip as he guided your pace. The fingers of his other hand were busy with pinching and rolling your nipples in a way that made your back arch.

Scaramouche swore every time he made you cum, you begged louder for him. A white ring had formed around his cock, a buldge poking up from how deep he was kissing into your sweet spot.

Drool pooled from your mouth, your moans bordering on pornographic as he held you down onto his cock, your body shaking as his cum ribboned inside of you.

"Please, I need to cum again, Scara! Please!" You pleaded, your body jerking in pleasure when he flicked your clit. Your hand flew to his wrist, bringing it to your throat as you tilted your head back.

"Showing your throat like a filthy whore," Scaramouche hissed, his indigo flashing with lust as he squeezed his hand around your throat to hear you struggle to moan. He didn't think he'd ever felt you cum harder than when his hand was wrapped around your pretty throat. "How does it feel be your servant's cock sleeve?"

How submissive you looked intoxicated him, making his cock throb with the need to fill your fuller than you already were. He harder he fucked you, the tighter you felt. He swore he practically saw Celestia when he felt your cunt clench around his cock while you squirted all over it.

You yelped feeling the sting of his hand across your ass after he let go of your throat. "So good! It feels so good! So good!" You cried out, your eyes rolling into the back of your head, tears of pleasure falling from your eyes.

It was like he was trying to fuck your words into you. He leaned up to give you a deep, opened mouth kiss, his tongue dominating your mouth. Putting a hand on your chest, he pushed you back onto the bed.

Scaramouche only pulled out of you for a few seconds, flipping you over onto your stomach. Tugging your hips up, he smacked your ass again before thrusting his cock all at once back inside of you.

Your high pitched mewl of pleasure sounded heavenly in his ears. Grabbing a handful of your hair, he yanked your head back. "Who's slut are you? Say it, say who is really in charge?"

"You! It's you, Scaramouche!" You moaned, your body feeling limp with pleasure when he let go of your hair to grip your hips possessively. You could feel his fingers pressing bruises into your skin, making you relax into his grip.

He shivered seeing you submit so completely to him. "Yeah, that's right. I'm in charge, you cock drunk slut," He groaned, hissing pleasure as more cum ribboned inside of you.

Your screams of pleasure mingled with his laugh echoed around the room, begging him for more while you creamed hard on his cock.

[violetasteracademic]

Azriel x Elain Bonus Chapter vs. Nesta x Cassian Bonus Chapter

Hello friends! What a lovely day for another text based side by side comparison. Today we are focusing on the parallels between Nesta and Cassian in their bonus chapter and Azriel and Elain in Az's bonus chapter.

The Nesta and Cassian bonus chapter has been published by Bloomsbury and easily found with a quick google search! It is called Wings and Embers.

This is in response to a comment I received on my TikTok video where I shared the same slides as my previous post comparing Mor and Az to Elain and Az, which is that Azriel only lusts after Elain. I could write a dissertation on the depth and slow development of their friendship and deep connection (Azriel staying up until three am listening to her plans for the garden, Azriel body checking Feyre out of the way so he could be the first to wish Elain a Happy Solstice, Azriel helping her with those cute potatoes and setting the table for dinner, his shadows preparing to strike when Elain's character is insulted and called boring [lol it's almost as if Sarah hears the negative things readers say about a character she loves] and so on.) but the easiest way to tackle the *lust* issue is to take a peek at the bonus chapters side by side.

Wings and Embers:

That is a h*rny man. Violently h*rny.

Nesta, in response to her own h*rniness, literally thinks Cassian has used faerie magic on her to make her feel things. Teehee. Cassian is also worried over how insane he is acting, how making a move on Nesta could disrupt the delicate balance of the inner circle.

There are reasons to not move forward with this mutual pull they feel to literally rip each other's clothes off in that exact moment, and it ends without them giving in to the desire to kiss.

Now let's compare to Azriel and Elain:

Breath catching, hands shaking, secret gifts exchanged in the dead of night.

They are going farther than they have ever gone after more than a year of brushing fingers and exchanging looks.

He is having some steamy thoughts, and her arousal drifts up to him. It is 100% mutual!

Both bat boys are described in their respective bonus chapters as thinking it was wrong or stupid to be making a move on one of the Archeron sisters, and not caring:

And both are described as being willing to beg on their knees:

I think what we are seeing here is an indication of the theme and tone for the upcoming romance. Cassian and Nesta are fiery fighters, with a million reasons why they should avoid their feelings. Azriel and Elain are full of quiet dreaming and angst and pining, with a million obstacles in their way.

But every character, in their own way, is struggling to control their desire.

Ultimately, bonus chapters are just that: bonuses. You don't have to read Cassian and Nesta's bonus to get an understanding of the relationship between them and the tone of their romance, nor is a bonus needed to understand the dynamic between Azriel and Elain.

I love Gwyn and am not discounting her presence in the bonus, of course I think most of us on the Elriel side simply perceive it is an additional show of her hidden powers. I am NOT team evil Gwyn, but we have already seen Koschei use Eris to lure Cassian and Azriel near to the crown to gain control over them. If Gwyn does have hidden lightsinger powers and she were to be put under the control of the Crown, she is a perfect character for Koschei to get his hands on as well to be used for luring purposes. This is reflected outside of the bonus chapters as well, with Nesta's powers having a reaction to Gwyn. It is not only seen in the BC, it's an *extra* moment. Gwyn is going to play a role in something, I have no doubt!

Gwyn also was in proximity to a piece of the cauldron for many years of her life, and only characters who are made or bearing made objects (Nesta and Azriel) are having these reactions to her. I think that will prove relevant.

I hope you all enjoy, and happy waiting patiently (or impatiently) for the book announcement!

[readychilledwine]

Praise

✨️Kink Education with Elizabeth✨️

Be good for me and read this first. So pretty when you listen. You're always so good for me.

If that made you feel a little tingly, you may have a praise kink. A praise kink, or the positive affirmation kink, is characterized by, typically, a sub who finds sexual pleasure in positive phrases and words of affirmation. In this kink, phrase like "such a dirty whore," will be replaced with a softer one like, "such a good whore for me."

This is often seen as a gentler side if the BDSM community because it does still typically come with some form of a power exchange dynamic with what some people may call a soft dom and/or a pleasure dom with a sub who typically has some form of an insecurity that this type of play works well with. It is more about safety and comfort, not power and known dominance.

I will say, I had 7 requests for a variety of characters with this spot and ultimately picked Eris because I wanted to write him in a vulnerable position. However, I also think Cassian, Azriel, Tamlin, or Lucien would have made WONDERFUL subs for this as well. It is not one of my favorite kinks to write, so I hope I did this one justice.

As always, NSFW below the cut.

💕Peep the Valentines Day Bingo List Here💕

Eris Vanserra x Reader

Warnings - sub and dom dynamics, soft smut, oral *female receiving*, reader is a sex worker, this one is unedited by an outside source (dying like a boss bitch today), so I'm sure I'll find errors when I re-read it.

Eris whimpered, face burying deeper into your cunt as he lapped at your center.

“Such a good boy,” you moaned breathlessly. Your fingers began threading through his soft hair. “Keep going, baby. Just like that.”

Eris moaned against you, looking up at you with those desperate eyes. He'd had a shitty day. He'd spent hours being ridiculed and attacked verbally by Beron until there was almost nothing left of the heir emotionally.

Hence his presence in your pleasure halls, in your room specifically. On days like this, Eris craved nothing more than to be a whimpering mess below someone, and you were his someone. He just had to earn it first.

You smiled, head thrown back, grinding your cunt against his face, so close to the edge you could practically taste it. “Doing so good baby,” you panted and moaned his name as his tongue circled your clit. “Almost there. You want to be a good boy right? Want to make me cum?”

He whined against you, eyes hazy in submission and lust. He nodded slightly, eyes peering up from his beautiful long lashes. “Gods, you are so beautiful and all mine tonight, aren't you?” He hummed a soft blush creeping his cheeks.

A few more flicks of his tongue had you moaning his name, pulling his hair as you did. You rode his face through the High, mind lost in the once bit of pleasure you Were allowing yourself before it became about him and only him.

You let go of his hair, motioning for him to come up to you. You put one hand on his face, thumb stroking his freckled cheekbone. “Did so good, Eris,” he smiled and leaned into your hand.

His whole body had relaxed significantly, showing signs of comfort and trust. He was so beautiful, bare before you, scars littering his muscled body like paint helplessly thrown to a canvas. "May I have a kiss?" His voice was low, leaking the smallest hint of desperation.

"Such pretty manners," you licked his lips, forcing him back on to the bed. "How can I say no when you ask so nicely?"

You crawled on top of him, soaking core brushing his cock, as you went up to kiss him. His hands settled in your hips while yours rested on his chest. The kiss was deep and slow, leaking with the passion only lust could bring. His shoulders relaxed further, muscles becoming soft below you as he found his center.

He would never tell you, but you were his beacon in the darkness. A breeze on a summer day. You were water to his fire.

He didn't love you. The relationship wasn't about that and never would be. But Gods did he desire you. He needed you.

Eris gasped as you ground against his length, soaking him as you did to prepare him. You pulled off his lips, forehead resting against his. "Look at you," you purred, sitting up and grabbing his cock. He bucked into your grasp, eyes squeezing shut. "Is my pet about to beg?"

He whined, back arching as he did. "Please," need coated his tone like honey, leaking into every letter spoken. "Mistress, please. I need it. I'll be so good."

You kissed him again, sinking on to him at a slow, torturing pace. "Always so good for me, honey." You pushed down on his chest. "Relax and let me take care of you."

He nodded, mouth hung open in a silent moan. You raised yourself slightly and then lowered back down, testing his obedient behavior. He moaned again, hands staying on your hips until you gave him permission to explore.

You began riding and rocking on him, head falling back as you found the angle you wanted and needed. "So fucking good, baby," you moaned breathlessly, toes curling as you felt the head of him brush the spot you needed. "Gods, you are perfect. Fill me so well, Eris."

And he did. It was as if his cock for sculpted perfectly for you. It was the perfect length, the perfect thickness, and had ridges in all the right places. You could become lost in him if time allowed it, if the heir had allowed it.

But he had you for his pleasure. He paid for his needs.

You ignored the need to cum the best you could, watching his face contort in bliss. His back arching off the bed. You took one of his hands, bringing it to your tits and leaving it to explore those curves. You then took the other, bringing it to you clit.

You didn't have to even say anything. Eris had been so well trained as your sub he knew. He began to gently circle and rub that bundle of nerves. "Yes," you threw your head back, feeling him twitch inside of you. "Just like that, Eris. So good. So fucking good. You feel incredible, honey."

The heir moaned loudly below you, his hand on your breast tweaking your left nipple while the other played to match the speed of your bounces.

"I love the way you touch me, how you feel," you were panting, a silent prayer going to the Mother wishing this would never end. "I'm going to cum if you keep doing that."

It was the encouragement he needed to press a little harder, both of you moaning each other's names. "How did I get so fucking lucky?" You moved a hand to his throat, holding it lightly. "I have such a beautiful male below me who always knows just what I need."

Eris's eyes squeezed shut again, the amber color almost completely blown out with lust. "May I cum?" His voice was a whimper of pleasure. "Mistress, please, I need to cum."

"You've done so well. Go ahead, baby. Cum for me." The moan Eris released was heavenly. The feeling of his hot cum triggered your own orgasm, but you couldn't help to praise him through his high. Moaning how good it was, how well he did, how perfect his body felt.

You panted once you two came down from that peak. "You look so beautiful begging below me. I will never get tired of the slight of it."

Eris smiled widely, arrogance returning to him. "Eventually, we will switch roles," his hands ran to your breasts, squeezing them. "And when we do, I will make sure to tell you how beautiful you look when you're cock drunk for me."

You leaned down, kissing him deeply. "I look forward to it, my lord."

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho

@mariahoedt @rinalouu

Valentines Day Taglist:

@sfhsgrad-blog @amara-moonlight @eternallyelvish @novaksangel @teenageeggscissorslawyer @thisblogisaboutabook @amygdtjhddzvb

[noisydelusionlove]

Chapter 14: A Date With Gaz

Pairings: Poly141xOC, GazxOC, SoapxOc

Warnings: Military inaccuracies, medical inaccuracies, A/B/O Dynamics, mild language used, mild sexual themes

A/N: Still sick as mess, but spent a little time writing. Next chapter is going to be a smut chapter. I try to break the smut up in case anyone wants to skip it for the plot (barely there plot, but still plot)

The next morning Aurora wakes up later than usual, thankful for the extra sleep. She gets dressed in a pair of flared jeans that hug her curves, and a cropped sweater. She throws her usual Converse on before brushing her hair out to allow it to fall in its natural waves, applying a little eyeliner and mascara just as she hears a knock on her door. She smiles as she opens it to see Kyle standing there in jeans and a t-shirt. “Good morning Princess.” He coos as she smiles and reaches for her wallet. “Nope, don’t need that.” He says as she gives him a look. “I told the guys we were stocking up and going on a shopping spree and everyone chipped in. You have thousands of dollars you can spend.” He hums and Aurora makes a noise of protest. “Let someone spoil you for once in your life.” Kyle laughs as he grabs Aurora’s hand and drags her outside to the SUV he borrowed for the day.

”I figured we could do breakfast at this little cafe off base, and then go to that Omega superstore and go crazy, after getting the essentials of course.” He smiles as he opens the passenger door for Aurora, waiting for her to get in before he leans in and buckles her seatbelt, placing a small kiss on her forehead, and shutting the door. Aurora huffs as she watches him walk around to his side and he climbs in. The ride to the cafe is short and soon she's giggling as Kyle practically sprints around the car to open her door and help her out. They go inside get a small private booth in the corner, and look over the menu.

Aurora orders pancakes, bacon, and orange juice as Kyle orders a full English breakfast and water. Aurora takes a sip, enjoying how fresh the juice seems to be when Kyle gets that mischievous gleam in his eyes. “So, have you been thinking about your heat? About us? I know we have been thinking about what we plan to do to you that is.” He jokes and Aurora almost chokes on her juice. She clears her throat and looks at him for a moment before sighing. “Not really honestly,” she says, but Kyle can sense there's more she isn't saying as he raises an eyebrow. Aurora groans as she hides her face. “I haven’t thought about it because I’ve never done it okay? All I've done is kissed, been too preoccupied being a badass at my job.” She says quickly, trying to cover her embarrassment with a joke.

Kyle’s eyes widen as he looks at her. “Never? Only kisses?” He says as he groans slightly. “Do you know how much that is going to make everyone want to ruin you?” He says lowly and Aurora looks at him, noting the hint of lust in his eyes. “Please, let us each be the first to show you how good it can be,” Kyle says, practically begging and Aurora cocks her head. “You guys would be interested in that?” she says in slight shock as Kyle nods. “Just watch.” He says as he pulls his phone out, Aurora watches him nervously as he begins typing away. Her phone dings, meaning he either texted her or the group chat, and when multiple other dings sound off she realizes which it was. She groans as she picks up her phone to read what is being said.

Best Pack Ever

Gaz: Aurora is a virgin…like only been kissed

Soap: Oh for the love of God can I go into a rut? I think I'm going into a rut

Price: Calm down Johnny

Ghost: really….

Soap: I'll make her cum on my fingers any time

Price: Johnny

Gaz: Only if she cums on my mouth first

Price: Oh for the love of god boys

Soap: Deal!

Ghost: Oh I’ll ruin our pretty Omega

Soap: OH FUCK SHES IN THIS GROUP CHAT I THOUGHT THIS WAS JUST THE BOYS

Ghost: ……..

Price: I told you to calm down…

Soap: LASS I SO SORRY I LOVE YOU PLEASE DONT BE MAD

Aurora blushes as she looks at Kyle who’s trying not to laugh. “I told you.” He says as he laughs at Aurora’s bright face. After a moment she thinks before typing in the group chat.

Best Pack Ever

Feral: All of those suggestions sound nice…I don’t want to wait until my heat starts and not remember anything…

Soap: When and where Lass? I'll be there

Price: We can talk about it sweetheart, don't feel pressured by the muppets being horny dogs

Aurora smiles as she locks her phone and puts it away as their food arrives. Aurora slowly begins to eat before glancing at Kyle. “Do you think John would be upset if I chose Ghost as my main Alpha?” Aurora says quietly and Kyle shakes his head. “If you did, I think it would be expected. You and Ghost seem to have some kind of natural draw versus you and Price. I think Price could also be your Alpha but it would be like it is with Soap, Price is the pack Alpha but Ghost is Soap’s Alpha.” He says and Aurora nods as she continues eating, contemplating her decisions. When they finish Kyle pays and they head back to the SUV and back on the highway heading to the Omega superstore.

When they arrive Kyle grabs a cart and pulls out his phone. He starts leading Aurora down the aisles as he pulls things off. Aurora watches him curiously her face heating when he grabs extra sheets, a bed liner, and snacks/drinks formulated for heats. When he seems finished he turns to Aurora. “Okay, now you can have free reign.” She laughs as she shakes her head. “Did you do research and make a shopping list?” she asks and notices his ears tinging pink, barely noticeable. “That's very sweet Kyle, thank you,” she says with a smile as she walks down the aisles. An hour or two later the cart is full of fluffy blankets, pillows, and stuffed animals. They check out and he carries the items to the SUV before they both climb in.

Aurora lets out a small sigh as they drive, her mind wandering. Kyle places a hand on her knee as he’s driving to pull her out of where her mind has wandered. “If I tell John and Ghost I dont want them to mark me during my heat they will listen right?” she asks quietly and Kyle glances at her and nods. “They won't do anything without your consent Princess.” He says and she nods. “I haven’t decided yet, but I don't want to belong to anyone just because we sleep together or go through a heat together. I think Ghost expects my full submission, and just because my heat has me acting different doesn't mean I’m going to be like this afterward.” She says and Kyle nods. “Wouldn’t dream of you being different Princess. I miss the little fighter with the fire in her eyes.” He smirks as she rolls her eyes.

Kyle rubs soothing circles on her knee, the small touch feeling electric with how her hormones are with her preheat, her scent sweetening in the enclosed space. Kyle lets out a small groan as he glances at Aurora and back at the road, his hands gripping the steering wheel tight. “Do you know how good you smell?” Kyle says quietly and Aurora glances over at him, admiring the way he’s trying to keep his composure. Her mind flashes back to the group message as she bites her lip, wondering if Kyle was all talk, bragging about using his mouth on her. She has to admit she has been curious about the men’s abilities in bed, and how their personalities would shine through in that aspect. “How good Kyle?” She says quietly, causing his eyebrows to raise in surprise. “Good enough to eat, I can just imagine how good your pussy tastes. What I wouldn’t give to devour you until you’re screaming my name.”He smirks when he sees her clench her thighs together, her arousal pooling in her underwear at his filthy words.

”Would you just stop at that, if I’m not ready for…”She stops as Kyle nods. “Princess I just want you to be enjoyed. It’s not about me, I’ll survive. You deserve to cum until you can't even remember your name.” He smiles as her breath hitches. She bites her lip as they arrive back at the barracks. Kyle turns the car off and they stare at each other for a moment. “Then what's stopping you?” She says quietly and laughs as Kyle jumps out of the SUV and practically runs to open her door. He gathers her in his arms and practically runs into the building, heading to his quarters. They pass Johnny who raises an eyebrow until the scent of arousal hits his nose and he follows them curiously. Aurora’s eyes widen when Kyle drops her on his bed and she sees Johnny behind him.

“Think you can handle us both Princess? Your two Betas making you feel good?” Kyle practically purrs as Aurora looks between the two of them nervously before nodding. Johnny releases a small growl as he looks at her. “Need to hear it Bonnie, full consent remember?” He says as she nods. “I want both of you.” She says quietly as the two smirks and walk towards the bed. Aurora thinks briefly ‘What have I gotten myself into?’

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Masterlist

Tag list:

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[destieltropecollection]

Destiel Trope Collection 2024 | Day 22: Omegaverse

No Knot November | @em-bitterred Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 1,083 Main Tags/Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha Castiel/Omega Dean Winchester, Alpha Castiel, Omega Dean Winchester, Mating Cycles/In HeatPast, Rape/Non-con, Non-Con/Rape Outside of Castiel/Dean Winchester, Non-con elements with sabotaged birth control/condom usage, reddit advice, Getting Together Summary: I (25/m/o) made a big deal out of observing No Knot November and now I’m afraid of telling my friends I failed Or Dean Winchester turns to the /r/NoKnotNovember community for advice after failing his No Knot November pledge

Scenting Lesson | @Destielshipper4Cas Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 2,417 Main Tags/Warnings: Omega Castiel, Alpha Dean, Falling In Love, Strangers to Lovers, Scenting, First Kiss, Fluff, Happy Ending Summary: Having grown up in a cult, Castiel has never learned how to scent properly. When a hot alpha moves in across the hall, he seems dead set on changing that.

Crossing Paths | @Destielshipper4Cas Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 3,544 Main Tags/Warnings: Angel of Death Castiel, Hunter Dean, Human Dean, Falling In Love, Strangers to Lovers, Omega Castiel, Alpha Dean, Happy Ending, First Kiss, Scenting, Talk about death, talk about suicide Summary: Only Dean Winchester could fall in love with Death. - In which Castiel is an angel of death, and one particularly stubborn hunter keeps cheating him.

I'll Show You Heaven If You Let Me | @samanddean76 Rating: Mature Word Count: 11,325 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe, FBI Agent Castiel, Mob Grunt Dean Winchester, Alpha Castiel/Omega Dean Winchester, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Alpha Castiel, Omega Dean Winchester, Top Castiel, Bottom Dean Winchester, Canon-Typical Violence, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Knotting, Claiming Bites, Mpreg, Protective Castiel, Hurt Dean Winchester, Sam Is Kind Of A Dick, He Gets Better, Eventual Happy Ending, Revenge, Or Justice, BAMF Dean Winchester, FBI Agent Saw Wesson, Alpha Sam Wesson Summary: Omega Dean Winchester just wanted to take out his recycling in peace. But he finds a mystery Alpha unconscious on the ground, stashed behind the bins. Dean gets him inside, but then work calls. Once Dean returns home he finds that the mystery Alpha Castiel is recovered, and he's waiting to claim the Omega that saved him. The only problem? They're on opposite sides of the law. Now Dean has to risk all to earn back his freedom. But will he lose his true mate along the way?

Inevitably Yours | @envydean Rating: Explicit Word Count: 16,303 Main Tags/Warnings: Alpha!Dean, Alpha!John, Alpha!Sam, alpha!Castiel, forced mating, Arranged Marriage, nonconsensual drug use, Angst with a Happy Ending, Challenges, alpha/alpha is frowned upon, good dad john, Pining, Fluff, bottom!Dean/Top!Cas (but they do switch in general) Summary: Dean Winchester is set to challenge Castiel Novak for an omega’s hand. Being given additional (and illegal) alpha hormones before the fight has some unwanted side effects on Dean that he wishes to keep secret. Locked in a room for the night while the Pack Alphas decide what to do, Dean and Castiel disappear into the night as their only option. Dean needs to figure out his feelings for his companion, lust from the drugs or real…

Living in a Haze | @girlsvmonsters Rating: Explicit Word Count: 27,000 Main Tags/Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, polyamory, non-traditional alpha/beta/omega dynamics, alpha/omega, top castiel/bottom dean winchester, omega dean winchester, alpha castiel, past sam/dean, mildly dubious consent, threats of rape/non-con, alternate universe, post-apocalypse Summary: The world has ended, literally. Zombies trample the place and devils devour souls for cheap thrills. But that doesn't bother Dean, who's gone a little crazy hanging out with the ghost of his dead brother. Dean isn't your typical omega. He's a hunter of pie who loves classic rock and decapitating the undead. Dean somehow attracts the unwanted attention of Lucifer Morningstar. Apparently he's got a thing for omegas with smart mouths. You could say he's especially smitten by Dean's ability to slip through his fingers. Devils do enjoy a good chase. As Dean thwarts the Prince of Utter Darkness he winds up falling into the arms of a horny alpha angel. Dean soon learns his guardian angel comes with a lot of ungodly baggage, one bag in the form of an incredibly annoying she devil who has a sinfully talented tongue. And then somehow Dean is part of a trio. A hunter, angel, and demon. It's an endless rollercoaster filled with horror, sex, and pie. So buckle up folks, cause there is never a dull day in hell.

The Ruse | @Destielshipper4Cas Rating: Explicit Word Count: 27,292 Main Tags/Warnings: Prince Dean, Commoner Cas, Strangers to Lovers, False Identity, Mistaken Identity, First Time, Omega Castiel, Alpha Dean, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Bottom Castiel, Top Dean, Virgin Castiel, Happy Ending Summary: Castiel, a lowly commoner, is supposed to travel to the Winchester kingdom as a decoy, posing as Prince James who is to mate Prince Samuel of Winchester. On the way, he gets kidnapped by a group of bandits, led by a rugged alpha outlaw with an alluring scent. He has no idea that ‘Dean’ is actually the elder Winchester prince, heir to the throne, who has his own agenda.

The Stars Will Remember | @casblackfeathers Rating: Explicit Word Count: 60,997 Main Tags/Warnings: omega!castiel, alpha!dean, amnesia, established relationship, mutual pining, break up and make up, angst with a happy ending, hurt!castiel, hurt and comfort, sweet!dean, bottom!castiel Summary: Being a hunter was all Dean knew ever since his mother had been killed by a demon when he was four. Hunting, offing monsters, and then jumping to the next case was his life. Then he met the most alluring and breathtaking omega he had ever seen and spent the next five years loving the hell out of Cas, their life together filled with the domestic lovey-dovey stuff Dean had never thought he would dig so much. When a simple salt-and-burn goes sideways, it ends up with Cas’ memories stolen from him. Dean is left to pick up the pieces of the life they built together, his ‘make it up as he goes’ strategy to prove to his mate that Dean’s still worth a damn, his only chance at getting Cas back. He’s done a shitty-ass job at keeping Cas safe before, but he will pull out all the stops now to woo his mate again and stir the memories Dean knows are still there buried deep inside Cas’ mind.

Perdition | @Taymarpigeon Rating: Explicit Word Count: 233,955 Main Tags/Warnings: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Sickness & Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, Possessive Behavior, BDSM, Alternate Universe, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Alpha Castiel/Omega Dean Winchester, Alpha Castiel (Supernatural)Omega Dean Winchester, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Sadist Castiel/Masochist Dean Winchester, Heavy Angst, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Extremely Dubious Consent, Sexual Coercion, Abuse Outside of Castiel/Dean Winchester, Biological Dom/sub, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, BAMF Castiel (Supernatural), Psychologist Dean Winchester, Mentions of Rape and Non-Con outside of Castiel/Dean Winchester, Medicinal Drug Use, Suicidal Thoughts, BAMF Dean Winchester, A pregnant woman dies, Risk Aware Consensual Kink, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Additional Warnings Apply Summary: It has been two years since Looking Glass. Two years since they met. Two years since they fell in love. Two years since Alastair came after him. Two years since Lucifer tried to kill them. Two years since Dean sat vigil by Castiel's bedside praying to a deity he doesn't believe in. Two years of healing, discovery and postcard-perfect moments. Two years... yet still the ghosts of their fathers haunt them.