#for showing their dynamic outside of the lust

[booasaur]

Special Ops: Lioness - 1x08

[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.

[seonghrtz]

𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑.

synopsis: you have a sleepover at gojo's.

No one had said that taking care of two children half your age, one of whom had a lot of cursed energy, would be easy. And maybe it wasn't supposed to be easy. After all, you were eighteen, a young adult, and the only thing you had been taught as a child was to obey your superiors and fight curses ⸻ even how to deal with the limbo that was your life, you had to learn on your own. You hadn't been given a manual on how to take care of children, let alone a manual on how to deal with the most powerful sorcerer of the generation. But you always knew your life wasn't going to be easy anyway.

You and Gojo eventually established a dynamic so that you could take care of Tsumiki and Megumi Fushiguro. During the week, Gojo took care of the children, especially since their school was in Tokyo, and on the weekends, you took care of them. Of course, if Gojo had a mission that made it impossible for him to take care of the children, you took care of them. It was basically the dynamic of a divorced couple with joint custody of their children. But the point was that you and Gojo weren't a (divorced) couple and you didn't even have children. In fact, Gojo had only taken Megumi and Tsumiki to look after, and you were accidentally involved in the whole situation.

And since it was the weekend, it was your day to take care of the Fushiguro siblings. Gojo was usually the one who took the children to your apartment, but since you had an appointment in Tokyo, you ended up arranging with him to pick up the children at his apartment. You had asked for the address of his apartment and miraculously convinced him that it wasn't necessary for him to pick you up and take you to where he lived ⸻ it took a long five minutes of arguing with Satoru before he gave in.

You walked in a bit of a hurry until you found the street where Satoru lived. You looked up the numbers of the houses until you found Gojo's. It was a tall building that gave you a headache just looking up, and it was fancy, completely different from your building, which was much smaller and much simpler. This building certainly showed how well off Gojo Satoru was financially. He had luxurious comfort.

The two of you were different in many ways ⸻ the only thing being that you were both Jujutsu sorcerers ⸻ and sometimes, it was inevitable not to wonder why he needed your help, you of all people. It was an unlikely action coming from Gojo Satoru, but if that was the price for Megumi and Tsumiki to have a normal, healthy childhood, then you were willing to pay it.

You approached the building, double-checking that you were in the right place, though you didn't need to, the whole atmosphere matched the lust that Gojo himself exuded.

"Excuse me, good afternoon" The access controller got your attention before you could pick up your phone and tell Gojo that you were already outside his building.

"Good afternoon." You bowed slightly.

"Are you Kamo Y/n?"

"Yes, that's me."

"Gojo-san asked me to let you in as soon as you arrived," the loud click of the apartment gate opening was heard as soon as the access controller spoke. "You can go up, the apartment is on the twelfth floor."

"Thank you very much." You thanked them and headed for the elevator, obviously not up twelve flights of stairs after a relatively tiring day.

When the elevator arrived, you entered it and looked at the button panel, there were twelve buttons for the floors of the building. Of course, Gojo Satoru wouldn't live anywhere but the penthouse. When the elevator doors opened, you stepped out of the elevator and noticed that there was only one door on the twelfth floor; if there was only one apartment per floor, at least you wouldn't be confused as to which apartment was Gojo's. However, before you could touch the elevator, you had no choice but to do so. But before you could ring the bell, the door opened to reveal a smiling Tsumiki.

"Kamo-san! Are you here to pick us up?"

"Uhh." You nodded.

"Ah, but we were going to marathon the Barbie movies..." Tsumiki said sadly

"Hey Kamo-chan, don't just stand there in the hallway!" Gojo appeared next to Tsumiki and grabbed your wrist, pulling you into the apartment.

“Gojo-san!”

"'Gojo-san'? Kamo-chan, we're the same age, there's no need to be so formal."

"What happened to your hair?" you asked, noticing the ribbons in some of his hair.

"This is called style!" Gojo put his hands on his waist in an odd pose.

"Fushiguro?" You looked at the little boy who was walking towards you with his backpack, ready to leave.

“Oi Megumi, do you want to leave so badly?" Gojo put his hand to his chest and pretended to be offended.

"Ah, but what about Barbie?" Tsumiki looked at you sadly and then at Gojo."Well... ah... you can watch it at my apartment..."

"NO!" Gojo shouted, interrupting your speech. "That's not fair!" A pout formed on the white-haired boy's moist pink lips. "I also wanted to watch Barbie too and watching it alone is no fun since I won't be able to sing the duets from the movies..."

"If you want, you can stay at Gojo's for the weekend, it's no problem." You've given a simple and practical solution.

"I don't want to." Megumi said, attracting the attention of everyone present.

"Megumi!" Gojo said dramatically, "Don't you want to spend a super fun weekend with me and your sister?" Gojo looked at the little Fushiguro, hoping that he would give an affirmative answer, but Megumi just stared at him with a serious face.

"Why don't we all stay here together?" Tsumiki suggested with a smile, "That way, we can watch Barbie and have a fun sleepover!"

"That's a great idea, Tsumiki!" Gojo said excitedly, he'd been trying to convince you to spend a day (or night) in his apartment for a long time, he knew it might cheer up Megumi's constant bad mood, but it was hard to convince you to stay. And now he had the perfect opportunity.

"I'm sorry, Tsumiki," you said, putting an end to Gojo and Tsumiki's happy murmurings about a possible slumber party, "I don't think today is a good day for that."

"And why not?"

"The only thing I have with me right now is my wallet" and a pocket knife, but you omitted that information from the girl.

"No problem!" Gojo said with a smile on his face, "I can lend you the towel, toothbrush and clothes, don't worry about it!"

"Please, Kamo-san" Tsumiki's bright, hopeful eyes made you look away.

"Ah... okay," you gave in and watched as Tsumiki and Gojo celebrated while Megumi hid his relief, at least you were with him and he wouldn't have to endure Gojo's taunts alone for another night.

"Tsumiki, you can choose today's Barbie movie, Megumi, you're responsible for building our hut in the living room, I'll order the food and Kamo-chan, you can take the part of being pretty and sit in that chair." Gojo smiled and put his glasses on his face. Tsumiki smiled excitedly and pulled her brother into the living room.

"Let's make dinner together." You said, drawing Gojo's attention back to you.

"What?" Gojo looked at you in surprise.

"Let's cook dinner instead of ordering in."

"Are you sure about that? It's easier to order in, not to mention there's a really good restaurant I always order from."

"If you want me to stay, we'll cook dinner together."

"What kind of bribe is that?"

"You promised to feed them well." You crossed your arms and stared at your own reflection in the sorcerer's glasses in front of you.

"All right," Gojo sighed and led you into the kitchen.

When you entered the apartment, you were surprised by the size of the place. Everything in Gojo's apartment was double, if not triple, the size of your own, but it was still surprising to see the size of this kitchen that was almost unused by its owner. You went through the fridge looking for ingredients to give you an idea of what you could make for dinner.

"Are you sure you don't want to order something? It's a lot easier." Gojo said, watching you take out the ingredients and put them in the sink.

"Peel the vegetables." You said, ignoring Satoru's question.

If you had the chance to ask your past self how she saw herself at a certain point in the future, she would certainly never tell you that she would be taking care of two children half her age, much less that she would be cooking alongside one of the strongest sorcerers, much less that she would see him cut off his own finger while chopping vegetables. You probably didn't expect him to be a disaster in the kitchen. But as they say, you learn by making mistakes ⸻ even if you seriously doubt that Gojo has learned anything from what he's learned in the kitchen.

When dinner was ready, you gathered in the pantry. You and Megumi ate in silence while Gojo and Tsumiki had a deep and serious discussion about the best characters, dresses, clothes, everything related to Barbie animation.

Everything went perfectly and although you would have preferred to stay in the comfort of your small apartment, seeing Tsumiki's radiant smile and Megumi's relaxed expression made your decision worthwhile.

It didn't take long for your regrets to show.

Watching Gojo and Tsumiki perform the songs from Barbie & the Diamond Castle at midnight certainly made you rethink many of the decisions you had made in your life. The scene of Tsumiki singing and twirling in front of the TV was quite cute, what was hard to bear was Gojo's thin voice every time it was his turn to sing ⸻ it was inevitable not to get a headache at that moment. You took a deep breath, the movie was only half over, and according to Gojo, this would be the last of the movie marathon, you had to be strong and hold on until the end.

When you least expected it, you felt something touch your arm and turned around to find Megumi sleeping peacefully next to you. Afraid of waking him, your body stiffened and you waited for a quieter moment in the movie to ask Gojo which room Megumi was sleeping in. Before you could do or say anything, Gojo picked Megumi up in the most tender way you'd ever seen and carried him to his room. Tsumiki, now without her duet partner, turned to you with a sleepy smile.

"Kamo-san"

"Yes, Tsumiki?"

"Thank you for joining us today. It was a lot of fun."

"Oh, that's okay, it was no big deal." You shrugged with a slight smile on your face.

"Can I... can I give you a hug?"

"Oh?" Your eyes widened slightly, surprised by the sudden question from the girl in front of you. "Yes... yes, of course" You opened your arms so that Tsumiki came closer and hugged you, snuggling into your arms.

"Thank you for taking care of me and my brother." Tsumiki whispered into the hug.

"Um... no problem." You murmured and felt your heart warm. "I think you better go to bed, Tsumiki, it's getting late."

"But what about the movie?" she asked through a yawn.

"We can finish it tomorrow at noon."

"Will you stay with us until noon?" A small smile appeared on the girl's face.

"Um," you said with a nod, "I'll make your favorite if you like."

"Ah, you're the best, Kamo-san!" Tsumiki hugged you once more before going to her room, leaving you alone in the huge living room of Gojo's apartment.

A sigh left your lips and your attention turned to the television, which was showing the movie you had forgotten a few minutes ago. You weren't familiar with the movies that Tsumiki (and Gojo) loved so much. During your childhood and teenage years, you had only one concern: to stay strong enough to survive. In a lifeline like that of a jujutsu sorcerer with a born technique from one of the greatest clans, you felt more like trapped and powerless prey about to be devoured alive than the predator about to strike. The world you were a part of was for the smart, the strong, the influential, and in this game, you ultimately chose to learn the rules of the game rather than how to beat it.

Cartoons, movies, and even fiction books were a privilege your lifestyle didn't allow you, not when you were in the clan domain, bound by the ideals of the terrible elders who looked no further than their own navels, trained tirelessly to become a fighting machine whose goal was to put an end to what they called curses. It didn't take you long to discover that you were just a disposable pawn in the elders' game. And that it would be an uphill battle to break free of their control.

"I still can't believe that was your first time watching Barbie" Gojo sat down on the other end of the sofa "You should have more fun, that's for sure!"

"I never had time for it..."

"You're so boring." Gojo sighed and threw his arms up before he let out a sigh. "I have to kill myself working to make money and ensure my independence," Gojo lowered his voice in a failed attempt to imitate you, "Do you work so hard to impress daddy?"

"My father is dead." You said in a serious tone.

"Ah... well... ah..." Gojo swallowed, shocked by your statement. "Wow, you really know how to create a tense atmosphere," he murmured.

Silence fell over the room and you turned your attention to the television, which was paused at the end credits. It hadn't been your intention to create a tense and uncomfortable atmosphere at that moment, but the words had come out without thinking. And when you least expected it, you felt something soft and cuddly hit you hard.

"What?" You turned your head to see Gojo holding back his laughter.

"You were too serious!" He smiled and threw another pillow in your face. "Come on Kamo-chan, aren't you going to fight back?"

"Fight back?"

"Yes, throw a pillow back at me?"

"What's the point when you can manipulate and distort the space around you with your limitless?"

"Come on, Kamo-chan, I was trying to make us have fun! Why do you always have to be so serious? Can't you just laugh at me like last time?"

"I've never laughed at you."

"Okay, will you stop gaslighting me?" Gojo stood up from the sofa, hands on his waist, indignant, "You know what? You should take a shower!"

"Are you telling me I stink?"

"No!" Gojo quickly denied, "I'm saying you need to relax, I can see your muscles tense from here."

"Um, okay then." You shrugged and followed Gojo to the bathroom down the hall.

While Gojo left you in the bathroom to get you some clean clothes, a towel and a toothbrush to use, your eyes wandered around the relatively large bathroom (like everything else in his apartment). The white and blue details in the bathroom reminded you of Gojo, and you wondered if he might have patented those colors for himself.

"I didn't have any panties to lend you, so I took some new underwear I've never worn before." Gojo said, looking away, his hand on the back of his neck trying to hide the blush on his cheeks.

"Oh, that's fine," you picked up the things he'd brought for you and waited for him to leave before closing the bathroom door and getting ready to shower.

In a way, Gojo was right. In the end, the shower helped you relax and get your mind out of the way, and not think as much as you used to.

When you finished showering, you put on the clothes Gojo had brought for you. The white blouse was soft and sweet-smelling, it looked big on you, but it was just right and gave you a comfort you couldn't quite explain. You put on the black shorts and hung the towel on a rack in the bathroom, along with two other towels, and took the opportunity to brush your teeth with the toothbrush Gojo had given you. When you came out of the bathroom, your body shivered as you came into contact with the cold air of the apartment as opposed to the warm air of the bathroom, and you walked into the living room and sat down on the end of the sofa where you had been a few minutes ago.

"If you want to sleep, my room is the last door on the left." Gojo said as he looked at you, feeling a blush on his cheeks as he noticed a certain more domestic area around you.

"Your room?"

"Yes, my room. The guest room is being used by Megumi and Tsumiki, so if you want to sleep, you can go there."

"I will not sleep in your room."

"Why not? My bed is quite comfortable, you know?" he said proudly.

"This is your house and you should sleep in your room. I can sleep on the sofa without a problem."

"I'm not going to let you sleep on the sofa?" he said more like a question.

"Why not?"

"Because I don't want to," Gojo crossed his arms in front of him. "Come on, Kamo-chan, don't be stubborn!"

"Look who's talking" You rolled your eyes.

"Okay, since I'm the owner of the house and I'm the one who makes the rules here, you have to sleep in my room."

"I never thought of you as someone who respects the rules..."

"I don't, but you, being a good girl, will respect the rules," he smiled sideways.

"Will you stop bothering me if I sleep in your room?" You arched your eyebrow in doubt.

"Yes!" Gojo replied quickly with a smile on his face.

"Okay, then I'll sleep there." You rolled your eyes and got up from the sofa.

"Everything is already prepared for you there, Kamo-chan, I hope you have sweet dreams."

"Um... good night, Gojo." You mumbled and went to the boy's room.

For some reason, the simple decoration of Satoru's room didn't surprise you. Maybe your subconscious had already imagined something similar in his room. You closed the bedroom door behind you and let out a sigh before sitting down on the huge bed, which was strangely soft and comfortable, just as Gojo had told you. You glanced at the bedside table and noticed a vintage lamp and had to fight back the urge to smile, Gojo had good taste in decorating.

"What a treat..." You muttered as you noticed the light switch next to the bed. You turned off the light and ducked under the covers, and couldn't help but compare all this comfort to the equivalent of lying on a cloud ⸻ if that were possible, of course.

But when you thought you were about to fall asleep, your brain decided it was time to make you overthink about the day you had.

Why did you agree to stay the night?

Why had you showered at Gojo Satoru's house?

Why did you wear his clothes and now lie in his bed?

Why did you accept all this?

To see a sincere smile on the faces of the Fushiguro siblings? Yes, of course, but that wasn't the only reason. There was something else that even you didn't have the answers to. Not there, not in that moment.

Satoru had everything and he made you feel as if you had nothing or as if the little you had was insignificant. It still didn't sink in that you were lying in the bed of the most powerful sorcerer of the generation and that you were only there because of his insistence.

Perhaps you should be more honest about your feelings, not only with those around you, but also with yourself. Even if it's incredibly difficult, since you've spent your entire life up until this moment hiding your feelings so they won't be used against you. And sometimes old habits die screaming in a deafening silence.

And maybe, just maybe, it's time for you to stop seeing Gojo Satoru through his titles and start seeing him as an equal...

memory garden masterlist !

☆! tag list : @arminswifee . @khaleesihavilliard . @chieeeeeee . @manooffline . @shybananabagellover . @r0ckst4rjk . @sad-darksoul . @chuluoyi . @stormflysaysstuff . @arminsarlerts

© seonghrtz, 2024. all rights reserved, please do not copy / steal / translate / modify any of my works !

[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.”

[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.

[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. 

[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.

[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

[radioactivewisdom]

The collective loves to parrot lies such as, “children are sacred,” “innocence needs to be protected,” and “there’s no love stronger than a parents.” Does our world really reflect that?. To distract from the filth they’ve made, one must fear monger about the childfree for not wanting to interact with kids in public. Our real concern needs to be what’s going on behind closed doors, and the mass scale grooming that these “family oriented” freaks partake in.

Children are the most vulnerable members of society, particularly girls. Yet, they continue to be brought into this world, being raised by doormats and wild beasts. Sexual, physical, and emotional abuse and neglect against children is almost exclusively caused by those that publicly declare love for them. The childfree woman who doesn’t wave back at your child in the grocery store is an easy target to project onto. Parents and those who wish to become them, blame everything and everyone, besides themselves and their participation in upholding a failing family system.

You know who’s leaving bruises on children for making simple mistakes? Parents. The most likely person to prey on your daughter? Her family man of an uncle who is always around kids. Broken body image is caused by mommy dearest practicing beauty standards, and then encouraging her own daughter to partake. It’s the “sweet” and “well meaning” neighbor who raised 3 kids of her own, who’ll ask your preschool age child when they’re getting a boyfriend.

Actions WILL always speak louder than words. Parents and their enablers have always been responsible for the degenerates they raise, who make up the majority of this society. The little is the big, and every wide scale societal issue is a manifestation of what happens in the home. Women and men replicate the same demented dynamic they share with each other, once they have children. That’s why you see mother’s emotionally immeshed with their sons, as women attempt to dominate men through emotions. While Fathers become obsessed with controlling their daughter’s physicality, just as they seek to rule over women through sex.

Emotionally healthy and intelligent individuals never wish to posses others. They’ll never see another person as an extension of themselves, don’t get into power struggles, and don’t need outside sources to complete them. %99.9 of the population is excluded from such a description, and have no business being around children, let alone raising them. The average individual is a lust seeking dopamine addict who lacks discipline and needs constant reassurance.

Sovereign women have no societal obligations in this worldwide shit show. I actually do love children, that’s why I will never have any of my own, or participate in parenting them. A positive healthy role model for kids can simply go about their life, and do more good than any parent or teacher. It’s very obvious that those who spend the most time around children intend to destroy their innocence, as they normalize the sick world around them. The populace’s souls have been rotten from the start, and they seemingly can’t wait to sign their own offspring up to slaughter.

[slvttyplum]

i think i posted this a while ago but you and suguru make movies every single time you fuck.

the both of you film from your phones and an ipad at different angles, would you ever post them? no but is it fun? yes

it’s fun to pretend to be a porn star, fun to overact your moans knowing they turn them on.

it’s fun to show your good angles to the camera and act like you’re showing off for someone, when in reality is suguru.

you would think maybe you should post them for a profit but the adrenaline of doing theatrics and doing a lot made you feel whole.

i guess it’s normal to film you and your partner during intimacy, but all the time? go look in your cloud and see how many times you filmed yourself.

67 TIMES?? woah you’re on a roll. even when you’re doing quickies you always record, or by yourself you’re always recording.

touching yourself to the videos you guys made days prior, working and pumping your fingers to the rhythm suguru fucked you the night before.

the way his backside flexed and toned whenever he slid his dick inside you.

or suguru pumping himself to the way your mouth wraps around his length and your tongue sliding up and down his shaft.

he loved watching you suck his dick from an upward angle, you looked phenomenal like that.

on your knees begging for his length and the pre cum dripping onto your tongue, your hands sliding between your legs slowly touching yourself.

the fluid dripping onto your fingers for a lubricant.

suguru is so nasty and rough in bed watching it back with him cuddled up softly rubbing your head not only makes you feel weird, but horny.

he’s so chill and sweet outside of sex but the dynamic while he’s inside you swiftly changed, it feels so good.

the camera changes him and how he feels, the way he looks back at them while he slams inside of you and cums inside and on you.

the glistening sparkle in his dark eyes always send you over the edge, because that sparkle is filled with love and lust.

he’s going to continue to fuck you on camera each and every time to show how his love and lust mix together.

[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.

[beenbaanbuun]

Hiiii bun! ✨ I have a question about Opposites Attract matz ✋🤓 Im wondering about their bedroom dynamic with each other, when their darling isn't there and it's just the two of them. Do they ever have sex (or scenes?) just the two of them anymore? What about before darling came into their lives, what were they like then? Has their dynamic with each other changed since they met her?

isak, i’ve been saying i’ll answer this for ages but then exams and the sadness and now here we are!!

so with or without darling, there is always going to be something so special about the connection that hwa and joong share between themselves. it’s no stronger than the connection they have with darling, but it’s different. more passionate and lust filled and primal. they don’t have to be so sweet with one another, all gentle caresses and soft, dainty words. they can spit and slap and choke until their hearts are content. they can call each other names that would shock even the devil, all while basking in the love they share for one another.

and whilst they love what they have with darling, the need to have someone to pamper becoming ever-more evident with each day that passes by, they can’t help but want something a little less sweet from time to time. yes, hongjoong can spank her and she takes it like a champ, but only seonghwa can take it when he spits at him and calls him a whore. and yes, seonghwa can tie her up with pretty ribbons made of silk and lace, but only hongjoong can appreciate the harsh bite of rope against his pale skin. neither of them would be able to choose one over the other, though; as with everything, it’s just different when darling is present.

and that’s not to say that it isn’t ever different when it’s just the two of them. sometimes hongjoong isn’t up for being tied up and degraded, and other times seonghwa is too tired to don the persona that is able to do all those terrible things. sometimes they just want to lie together and make soft, sweet love. wrap one another up in gentle arms as seonghwa fucks himself gently into hongjoong’s hole. it’s just another way to show their affection, outside of everything else they do for one another, and it’s certainly a nice change of pace from their usual escapades.

these days come far and few between, though. with darling present, their quota for soft gentle sex is already pretty full. they’re passionate people, after all, and darling is just too sweet for them not to bring her to orgasm in the most gentle ways multiple times a day. it doesn’t take away from the affectionate side of it; they work so well as a team that sharing their darling between them is like a bonding experience in of itself. the only thing it’s really changed is the level of rough sex that takes place when darling isn’t present. there’s a lot of it outside of darling, just so they can get it out of their system. slapping, biting, twisting, pinching; it’s all on the table for them during those couple of hours they have during the afternoon nap that yeosang insists they share. they’re very grateful to the wolf in that regard…

[blossomthepinkbunny]

Poor rendition of queer characters in HH and HB

Here I am again talking about queer representation in Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss, this time just more generally. Because it's always a little weird to me when people claim HH/HB to have good queer representation, when in actuality most of the queer characters are either just blatant stereotypes or get mishandled somehow. And with Helluva Boss recently winning the Queertys - Web series reward I think that this is probably a pretty good time to acknowledge that kind of stuff (as people have done before).

TW: Sexual assault, R@pe (when referring to the actions of characters)

Blitzø (Pansexual): is very sexual and seen on screen multiple times either having sex or just having had sex. Pretty much fits the general stereotype of queer men always being sexual and also the stereotype of pansexuals just sleeping with everybody. Like, he literally screwed the mutual Ex of his coworkers even though he knew how much that guy hurt them.

Stolas (Gay): also mostly sexual (from how he was introduced) and he is in a pretty terrible "relationship" with Blitzø, which includes coercion, SA, Power dynamics and fetishization. Another very sex-driven queer man. Also just great proof for the people assuming that queer relationships are inherently predatory, unhealthy and never work out.

Moxxie (Bisexual): is often forced into a very feminine role because even in relationships with women, queer men always have to be pointed out to be feminine and putting a guy in a dress is funny I guess.

Fizzarolli & Asmodeus (Queer): they're actually better than a lot of the other characters here but there is still some of that uneven power dynamic going on with them and there are obvious issues with their relationship. Overall they aren't too bad though. They didn't get that much sexual focus and what they got is kinda warranted since Ozzie is the Lust demon. But there is that one scene with Fizz stepping out of his car with Dildo confetti canons (I think) and that was sorta weird, since in an episode before that they presented Crimson as being homophobic and stereotypical for assuming queer men are all obsessed with dicks. Which is just interesting because thats most of the queer men in Vivzepops stories.

Chaz (Queer): just a sexually abusive asshole because we definitely needed more predatory queer men in this show.

Sally May (Trans mtf): basically the single recognized trans character in both shows and she only had one line. After that they made fan merch for her which consisted of her in a bikini with her bulge being drawn pretty visibly (multiple times). Of course there's nothing wrong with Trans people who don't have surgery but it's just a tiny bit weird to me that fanservice merchandise is what she got reduced to, when something like that wasn't even the joke of the only line she had in the show and because she hasn't recieved any kind of focus after that.

Angel Dust (Gay): now there is a lot of stuff that could be said about Angel. On one hand he is another very sexual gay man whose screentime often just consists of sex jokes and references. On the other hand that's a big point for his character. How he tries to act confident in his sexuality when in reality it's the main source of his problems. Though he does often harass other men in the show and that's just so unnecessary. Talking about Angel mostly leads into discussing if he is good representation for SA victims or not, which is something I don't want to talk about that much because I feel like it's not my place to judge that as someone who never has experienced SA. I'm gonna say that I do find Viv's treatment of him outside of the show insensitive (with the pro-shipping, diminishing Valentino as an Abuser and general sexualization of the characters) but as far as the portrayal of him in the show goes I've heard different opinions and you should read the discussion's of actual r@pe survivors about this topic if you want to know about more about it.

Husk (Queer): I don't have anything to say about Husk. He is a very refreshing queer man in these show's and there is nothing bad about him I could think of right now.

Valentino (Queer): for him I mostly want to talk about how he is treated outside of the show which doesn't sit right with me. He is a villian in HH so it's understandable that he is gonna do effed up stuff. I also like that the show tries to make a point about how men get sexually assaulted too (wether they succeeded in that inside the show I'm not gonna judge too hard like I said). But there are a lot of people who not only sexualize him, but also his actions and his relationship to Angel and from what I know Viv never really spoke out against that. She actually interacts with people who do that stuff and I it's just kinda gross.

Vox (Queer): I also don't have a lot to say about him. He and Val are a couple so he is dating a r@pist but he is also a villain so you can't really expect more from him. Especially since he would still be interacting with a r@pist even if they weren't dating.

Alastor (Aromantic, Asexual): is obviously not interested in relationships or sex but his identity is pretty much ignored by a huge amount of the fandom. Vivzepop never say's anything about people blatantly invalidating him like that. It seems to me like she doesn't care about characters who can't be involved in shipping but still wanted to have more diversity in her show so she just called him AroAce. In Hazbin Hotel he isn't bad representation though. His sexuality is never the focus but thats fine, it's mostly just the treatment he gets outside of HH which I don't like.

Charlie (Bisexual): doesn't have a lot to her sexuality. This is something I talked about pretty lengthy in my other post, specifically about the lack of Sapphic content in both shows, so I won't go into too much detail here. Her relationship with Vaggie would probably be the best in both shows if it wasn't for the fact that they both never get the real spotlight as a couple. And there is that thing in Vivzepops stories where the women are pretty much sexless without men and that's obviously something that is generally an issue when talking about the lack of Sapphic representation (which is also a topic heavily tied to sexism). Charlie's portrayal isn't necessarily stereotypical but that's just because there is nothing to her identity in the show.

Vaggie (Lesbian): like I said I already talked about the Chaggie relationship so now I wanna focus on something I didn't even mention in that post. Her name literally being Vagina and that's apparently funny because she is a Lesbian so she obviously likes Vagina. That's just incredibly stereotypical and also excludes Trans Lesbians and Asexual Lesbians who don't want sex. The whole joke was that Adam named her that because he is obsessed with sex and he's a jerk. But her name was always Vagina even in the pilot (from what I know Adam wasn't conceived then and neither was the idea that Vaggie even is a former exterminator).

That's all the queer characters I could think of. I hope I didn't miss any.

I thought about including Millie here too. But she was also already included in my other discussion post and I still don't know if she is canonically Bisexual of if that is just a headcannon so I didn't put her here.

I'm just gonna say that i don't have a problem with queer men being sexual (or any queer person in that regard). But it's pretty much every one of her queer male characters. This is especially bad when a lot of the relationships are toxic as well.

I just think too many characters fit stereotypes and to me that isn't good queer representation. If you like the depiction of queer characters in HH or HB that's good for you and you don't have to agree with me. But you also can't really deny a lot of this stuff and you can't expect others to just be fine with bland, hurtful and sometimes even toxic representation like there is in these shows.

[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!

[drdemonprince]

Anon who yearns after his boss here with a follow up.

First of all, thank you so much for taking the time and effort to form such a detailed reply and to include your followers, I really appreciate it!

I’d like to elaborate on what I meant when I said it would have no impact on my job. I do volunteer work, so I am not financially dependent on this job, and my boss unfortunately leaves the company in a month and I would probably wait until then to make any sort of move. So no matter how this plays out, it will pose no risk to my livelihood.

To answer your question, this is a pretty common dynamic for me. For some reason I have been in a lot of work/school/etc. settings where an attractive older man sees potential in me, I start working extra hard because of it and he starts giving me lots of attention and we fall into a really intense mentor/mentee relationship. This dynamic is so hot to me that I just end up in top of my class or employee of the month or whatever from being fueled by pure lust lol. Nothing compares. But I’ve never managed to take it to the next level because I either chicken out or play it too straight forward, which doesn't work like you said.

As for what you said about straight men looking for attention from queer men to fuel their ego, that is a very real possibility. He hides his insecurity well by being a jokester, but he's obviously a sensitive guy. It wouldn't surprise me if this is more about his ego than about attraction.

Him not viewing me as a guy is also a possibility, but I don't care too much. I get so horny that I lose any sense of self lol. He does treat me like a man though. I work at the furniture department of a second hand store and he never underestimates me to be able to lift something heavy or assemble something. He also compliments me all the time on getting stronger and handier, and all the progress I’m making.

Then on the other hand, he treats me with a certain gentleness and intimacy that I don't see him portray to my other male coworkers. We’re able to confide in eachother and get vulnerable. He tells me secrets no one else knows, like how he'll be leaving the company soon.

There's all these little moments throughout the day, like we'll be assembling a bed together and he jokes about how it has a certain eroticism to it, or how it turns him on when we work well together lol. When he sees me implement something he taught me, he's beaming at me with the biggest smile. We also have this running gag where I pretend to be his boss and tell him what to do, and he's always very obedient which is hot but also shows that he trusts me.

I love your idea about meeting up outside of work, because that's exactly what I was planning lol! He's really into photography and I asked him if he wanted to meet up sometime to show me the ropes, and he very enthusiastically agreed! So if I were to make any sort of move, it would be then.

Anyway, I’m really curious to see what you and your followers think now with all this extra information.

JESUS CHRIST ANON THIS CHANGES EVERYTHING

this is only a volunteer position?? he's leaving in a month?? he compliments you on getting stronger??? and says that assembling a bed together has a certain intimacy to it???

waht the fuck dog. my only concern now is that he's being weird and unprofessional af with volunteers. but no concern for you. you're clearly creaming your drawers for it. i say play ball.

you made this sound more forbidden than it actually was because that's exciting to you, you little minx. i see you. you've gotten us all involved in your erotic game, now you can go enjoy it.

let's re run the stats on this