#god i hope that sounded as coherent as it did in my head

[lise-thethinker]

This is going to sound slightly disconnected from what OP is saying, but since Star Wars and Dune were brought up as one being the rip off of another, I'm guessing there's still some people who don't know why that is the case. Going to write a bit of my thoughts on this, since I've spent the better part of the last couple of days looking into this topic, by which I mean "The Hero's Journey".

So, most people probably already know this, but the reason why Star Wars and Dune have similar story structures is that both George Lucas and Frank Herbert drew a lot of inspiration for their stories from Joseph Campbell's work. There was this great post that came across my dash a few days ago, linking to some resources that explain who Joseph Campbell was and how his work has affected the entertainment industry, with some very heavy and well-deserved criticism. Here it is, I highly recommend checking out the videos:

After reading the article linked by the op of the above post, I went to look for other places that criticized Campbell's idea of the monomyth. I found another excellent write up on it, and ended up liking it even better than the first article:

I think what I like the most about this is that the author included his sources at the end, which are very easily searchable.

Another useful link I found is an article written by an actual folklorist (who cites even more sources!) about a discussion that happened on Facebook about Joseph Campbell's failings:

This last one lays out the main reasons why Campbell's idea of a single myth should be rejected in a really easy to understand way. Please take your time to read through at least this link, I promise it's worth your time.

Anyway, here's my summary of all this: Campbell's monomyth is based on myths and stories he analysed, removing them from the context they were produced in, in favour of his own white, cishetero-normative, ethnocentric interpretation of them. Sometimes, he ignored key details of them to be able to fit them into the model he created, or ignored other stories that did not fit into the pattern.

The reason this is bad is because by removing cultural practices, in this case the stories and myths, from their context, also strips them of meaning. The act, the intention, and the message of a story or myth all have meaning behind them. The meaning is deeply rooted in the culture in which that story exists, and it only has meaning because there is a system of codes by which a meaning can be attributed. By taking away the meaning, Campbell inevitably creates a representation of those stories in order to fit his model, which doesn't correspond to the reality of the stories and their respective cultures.

Culture is praxis. Reducing all myths and stories to a single line of events that happen to a character, regardless of culture, creates an idea of universality that doesn't exist in practice, because each culture is a different system of codes that give meaning to their practices. By creating the notion that there is a single story structure that synthesizes all others, Campbell eliminates the diversity present in each culture and erases the narratives that they create for themselves… and puts in place the narrative he created for them. To tie into what I just said, the last link I will put in this post is to Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie's TED Talk, "The Danger of a Single Story":

I hope I've been able to make my point on why we should definitely move away from The Hero's Journey. But, going back to the entertainment industry:

Campbell's monomyth did not influence any of the myths that he analysed, obviously, but a lot of cultural products have been influenced by it. Star Wars is what actually popularized his work for the first time. The reason for this, I believe, is because things that are easily reproducible and fit into a mold are seen as an easy way to make money, following a sort of industrial logic. You know the deal, formulaic Marvel movies, big box office numbers, blah blah blah. Just because a lot of movies follow the structure of The Hero's Journey it doesn't mean that they are all ripping each other off. Personally, I think that is a ridiculous notion. They all have their own individual worth because they are fundamentally different stories, about different characters, and the messages they send are also different. Star Wars sends a completely different message from Dune, and it's not Campbell's seriously outdated one-story-structure-fits-all theory that will detract from their value.

There's a tweet that's gone viral where a person laments realizing that Star Wars "ripped off" Dune, and how learning all the elements Star Wars took from its inspiration tainted it. And I think it shows how poisonous the emphasis on originality in art can be. Because yes, it's wonderful when art makes something new, but it's also wonderful seeing how art plays on what came before, and the conversations it has with its predecessors.

There's going to be a lot of people talking about how much of an impact Goku from Dragon Ball Z has made on fiction in the wake of Akira Toriyama's recent passing, and all the characters who were inspired by him and his story. But Goku himself is derivative - he's inspired by the Monkey King from Journey to the West, one of the first novels ever written. He's far from the first character inspired by the Monkey King, either, and also far from the last.

None of this makes Goku's impact any less than it is. None of this decreases how Goku's story has inspired countless imitators. Just as Toriyama created a new icon from imitating what he loved about Journey to the West, so did Toriyama inspire countless artists to make their own iconic works with his take on the Monkey King's archetype. Goku is, in many ways, the heir to a legacy that spans back to the 16th century, and likely beyond - because I doubt the original Monkey King was formed in a vacuum.

We're taught to think that originality and imitation are opposites that cannot coexist, but they're not mutually exclusive. One can follow in another's footsteps and still take a new journey with its own unique twists and turns. The great works of art are not spawned in the absence of inspiration - they are in conversation with what came before and what will come after.

[chocum]

KARMA !

— brat taming the jjk men feat. choso kamo, kento nanami, toji fushiguro.

WARNINGS. femdom!reader, f!reader (she/her), brat taming, cock slaps, crying, handjob, choking, p in v, riding, overstim, lingerie, lollll slotted toji out :33, recording, finger sucking. ( 2k ) note. hellloooooo hope u all enjoy this. i had fun writing bc i loveee the idea of making big strong men crumble mhmhmhm. anywaysss reblogs are appreciated thank youuu love u all. repost bc last night it didn’t show in the tags 💔 but i edited it and added alottt so if you already saw it feel free to read again !! ty

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 CHOSO KAMO

“ma— make m— ooohh fuck. wai—wait” his voice trembled so cutely that it was barely coherent, crumbling into a pretty whine that drowns out his pathetic attempt (if you could even call it that) at being a defiant little brat, making you giggle, your slicked up thumbs pushing and rubbing down on the slit of his leaky tip, sending jolts of pain masked as pleasure up his bony spine, “make you?”

immediately he knows he’s fucked up. the air between you growing thick.

he didn’t know what came over him, really. maybe he had been watching too much porn, fantasizing too much, because the idea of getting tamed by you— god, just the thought of getting put in his place, turned him on so much. so, so much.

but having to actually disobey you, he couldn’t. he believes he was only put on this earth to serve you and please you. to be good. his head hurriedly shakes side to side, making each strand of ravened silky hair jump and dance before resting to frame his flushed face, “‘m sorry didn’t me—”

you land a heavy, hard slap to his cock, the sound pounding in his flushed ears blending with the beat of his heart, making his body tense up and jerk underneath you. his breaths come out in ragged little gasps, each one such a struggle as his fuzzy brain short circuits under your warm palms.

it really is cute, you think. cute how easy it is to break him. the pretty tears that drip down his puffed-up, blushed cheeks remind you of that. he’s choking on his sobs when you move to cup his face and kiss the corners of his eyes, and his cheeks. crying and sniffling because he hates when you’re mad. hates disappointing you.

“‘m sorry, i don’t— just wanna be so good for you. i’ll be— wanna be your good boy.”

“i know,” you coo, petting him like the pretty pet he is, “wanna try again for me, hm?”

and oh, he’s nodding so sweetly, cock throbbing for you, his big glassy eyes heart-shaped, staring up. so ready to be yours, ready to be the good boy you’ve trained him to be.

so you tell him again, “fuck my fists, make yourself cum, pretty boy. and look me in my eyes.”

his hips buck up, the salty tears on his cheeks warming and dried as he uses your sticky hands like a fleshlight, whining prettily when you tighten your grip around him, “‘m sorry” he babbles over and over, drooling out the corners of his parted puffy lips.

he’s so good. staring into the blown pupils of your pretty eyes without fault, like you told him to. because you told him to.

and his thighs burn, his legs shaking and trembling against the silky sheets as he gets closer and closer. the pain almost urging him on, “are you gonna cum for me? baby? gonna give it all to me hm?”

“yes, ple— please. please, can i cum can—”

you pull your hands off him.

drawing out the prettiest whine to ever be heard. like a song of the angels. his head falling back against the wooden headboard, hips bucking up in search of something to ease the ache that overwhelms in his tummy. those hot tears making a special reappearance.

“aww baby,” you hum, feigning sympathy, massaging his warm— full, heavy balls, “did you really think you’d get to cum after that, hm? did you?”

his eyes widen in desperation, disappointment. he tries to speak, to plead, to beg, but all that comes out are broken little sobs and whimpers.

the look on his face is almost pitiful. furrowed brows, pout, and his mouth hangs open.

you bend to lean in closer, your breath so warm against the shell of his sensitive ear, “you have to earn it, baby. good boys get rewarded. brats get punished.”

for you, he nods weakly, his voice barely a whisper as he chokes, “i’ll be so good, pro— promise. please, let me cum. let me show you how good i am”

so pretty. your fingers slip down to massage his aching balls, applying just enough pressure to keep him on that edge he loves to dangle over without giving him the sweet, sweet release he craves. “nuh uh, not yet,” you hum softly, your tone both firm but oh so gentle. “show me how much you want it.”

his hips buck up involuntarily, humping the air in search of your grip— relief, eyes locking onto yours, colored irises filled with adoration. he’s completely at your mercy, every nerve and ending in his body on fire, every muscle tensed up in anticipation.

and you can see the struggle in his eyes. it’s really a beautiful sight, and you savor every moment of it. “that’s it,” mumuring, “keep looking at me like that. show me how much you need it.”

his breaths come in short little, ragged gasps, his chest heaving and caving, thighs burning from fucking the air.

but finally, after what feels like an eternity, you decide to grant him some mercy, your hands moving back around his throbbing cock, stroking him just how he likes it, “cum for me, pretty boy,” you command, a soft, seductive purr. “give it all to me.”

with a strangled, gargled cry, he obeys. his body convulsing, every muscle tightening as he finally, finally finds his release, his cum spilling all over your hands in thick, hot, sticky spurts. and he’s so obedient, his eyes remaining locked on yours, even as his vision blurs and fuzes with pleasure.

“there you go,” you whisper, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. “such a good boy.”

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 KENTO NANAMI

the tie that usually wrapped snug around the collar of nanami’s shirt adding that signature pop of yellow to his suits now decorates his flushed neck, constricting it, the tail of it clutched tightly in your fists as you ride his cock, your hips rolling and jerking against him relentlessly.

thick cum drips down to his balls, pooling underneath him, a swirl of your mess and his. he’s cum two–no, four? he doesn’t even know how many loads he’s stuffed into your warm cunt— or how many you’ve forced and sucked out of him, his cock so sensitive it fucking hurts, every time you snap back down on him sending poky jolts of overstimulation through his entire body.

“fu—fuck, honey, please. i don’t have— ngh— don’t have anything left to give. fuckin’ drained me already— can’t—”

you tug on the silky fabric, making him choke on his words, gargling on warm, foamy spit. his hands reaching to grab at the curve of your waist, but he’s flinching, remembering how you said, no touching. remembering why he’s in the position in the first place.

because he doesn’t listen.

refused to keep his hands to himself, your body begging to be touched, in his words. as if he didn’t take you seriously, just kept grabbing at you, digging his slim fingers into your plush skin.

so, obviously, there’s some sort of misunderstanding .. some sort of disconnect. he must have forgotten who was in charge.

you don’t even give him a response, ignoring the prickly burn in your thighs to fuck him dumb. maybe then, ironically, he’ll learn how to act. each jerk of your hips move to push him further to the edge, to remind him of his place.

his body is weak, just sitting pretty, twitchy, letting you do as you please, sweetly hiccuping under your frame, “hah— please, my fucking god i— i’m sorry” he’s all gone and sucked up, cock crying, drooling pathetic tears of salty cum in your cruel walls. sweat peppering his forehead, slicking the ridges of his chest, making him glisten.

“please, i’m fucking begging i’ll— hah, won’t disobey you again. i’ll— i’ll be good. i’ll be yours”

aw, there it is.

and you hum, stilling your hips, letting his cock fill you all the way up, “mhm that’s all i needed to hear. now give me onee more load. just one. know you can do it pretty boy, give it to me”

even though his body is spent, just the true definition of exhaustion, he responds, his pretty cock twitching inside you as he drags against his own warm cum in your spongy walls. and it doesn’t take long before he’s giving into you. balls so empty, just a few little spurts drooling out, but it feels just as intense, maybe even more than any of his other orgasms. “good boy”

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 TOJI FUSHIGURO

“toj’ my pretty boy” your finger draws across the pink lacy lingerie that does a pathetic job of covering his cock. poking out, leaking and drooling all over the fabric, almost ripping through it with just how hard he is, “you look so good like this”

he grunts, blush growing across his cheeks, a deep, deep crimson, turning his head to avoid your gaze, avoid your phone brightly flashing, recording him.

“so hard too, aw” mumuring, you move closer, recording every detail of how he bulges through the set you so perfectly picked out for him. the pink complementing his tanned skin so well, truly a work of art “touch yourself for me”

another grunt escapes his lips, and he’s fidgeting, dragging his balls against the bed, rutting like a fucking dog, pulling at the ropes that hold and confine him, caging him against himself, “need your ..”

“yeah, need what?” you prompt with a smile, watching through your screen how he struggles to say it, pouting as his brows furrow up.

“need your help”

theres a wicked little glint in your eyes, pulling back at the stretchy band of the pretty underwear, letting go so it snaps back against the sensitive underside of his thick cock, making him whine, his broad body shaking and twitching, muscles clenching up.

humming, you bring your palm to his face, telling him to lick, and he listens, immediately.

licking a long stripe up your warm palm, but oh, he gets carried away. stretching to wrap his scarred lips around your fingers, bobbing his head up and down, drool dripping down from around his pursed lips, letting his tongue lay flat. “look at you, so eager”

he comes off with a pop, smirking because he knows you love when he’s so good like this for you.

you press your slick fingers against his covered perky nipples, watching as he twitched, before moving to stoke him through the pretty lingerie, “don’t fu—fucking tease”

you ignore him, let him get away with the little back talk because he just looks toooo cute, eyes all big, looking up into the flash of the camera, leaking through the lingerie like such a pretty boy. all for you.

you flick your wrist faster, leaning to spit on his clothed cock, sending thousands of shivers up the nerves on his spine, making him croon, his ass raising up off the bed to buck into your palms, giving the camera such a good show.

“gonna cum, shit— i’m so close. fuck— please”

he’s babbling, his voice all high and whiney.

“mhm go ahead, baby”

with a final, desperate thrust, he’s shooting against the fabric, babbling your name as it oozes through making a sticky little mess before you’re leaning down to lap at his clad tip. to clean him up.

then you come off him, stopping the video. and tojis looking up at you through glassy eyes as you press against your phone, smiling.

“what— hah, what are you doing”

“sending it to shiu”

[xosamioo]

“𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐓𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐘𝐨𝐮”

Paring: riki x younger reader

Rating: 18+ explicit and mature content, smut and angst

Content warnings: NSFW age gap reader just turned 18 and ni-ki is 20 unprotected sex car

Summary: 18yrs y/n has a crush on her older brother's best friend, 20yrs Riki. y/n can't help but stare at Riki when he's over. Does he notice? Who knows...

WC: 3.2k

Authors note: 🔞This story is fiction and does not reflect the personalities or desires of those it is written about. This story has some scenes that may be uncomfortable for some readers, read at your own risk.

You were sitting on the couch, scrolling through your phone and trying to decide what to do. Your older brother had brought his friend Riki over and they had been hanging out in his room doing god knows what Normally you would ignore them and do something by yourself but you had developed a crush on Riki. You tried to ignore it, knowing that it was completely off-limits considering he was your brother's best friend and he was older than you but he was so hot.

And to make matters worse, he was always wearing tank tops. Ugh, you couldn't help but stare at his arms and collarbones. You could feel yourself getting hot and you needed some air. That's when I heard the door open.

Your brother walked right by the couch without saying anything. Riki followed shortly after and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. He was wearing a white tank top and some jeans and you couldn't help but stare. He took a drink of his water and my eyes drifted to his Adam's apple. He finished and set the bottle on the counter, letting out a sigh. You looked away and continued to scroll on your phone and he sat down next to you on the couch and looked at you. "Hey," he said ruffling your hair "Hey," you reply, trying to sound nonchalant. It was difficult with him so close, especially since his arm kept brushing against your shoulder. Ugh, even his voice was incredibly deep and attractive. "What are you doing?" he asked, leaning forward a bit to look at your phone. "Just scrolling on my phone," you replied, still trying to act casual. "Anything interesting?" Riki asked, leaning even closer and looking at your phone. You could feel the warmth of his body and smell his cologne. It was making it very difficult to form a coherent thought. "Uh, not really," you mumbled, quickly switching to a different app. Riki nodded and leaned back against the couch, stretching his arms above his head. You couldn't help but steal a glance and notice the way his shirt rode up, exposing his toned stomach.

Ugh, this was torture. He seemed completely oblivious to the effect he was having on you, meanwhile, you were a mess. Your mind was racing and the warm and wet feeling between your thighs was not helping either causing you to squeeze them together. You needed to get out of the room before you did something stupid. But just as you were about to get up, Riki spoke again. "Hey, where are you going?" he said, looking over at you. You froze turning around "Oh, uh, I just wanted to get some fresh air," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. Riki nodded and stood up, stretching again, and your eyes lingered on his abs for maybe a second too long. He noticed and raised an eyebrow at you. "Are you sure you're okay? You're acting kinda weird," he asked, looking concerned. "I'm fine, just hot," you answered, fidgeting with your phone and hoping he'd believe you. "Yeah, it is kinda warm in here," Riki said, nodding in agreement. He took another sip of his water and you couldn't help but watch him swallow, mesmerized by the way his throat moved. You were seriously losing it. "You know, you've grown up a lot. I still remember how small you were when your brother first introduced you to me." he said putting his water down "Yeah, I guess I have," you nodded, trying to keep up the conversation without giving away your current thoughts. Riki smiled stretching yet again causing you to bite your lip. "Well, you aren't a little kid anymore," he said, looking you up and down. "Yeah, I'm 18 now..." You answered, meeting his gaze. There was a moment of silence as you both stared at each other before Riki cleared his throat. "Anyway, your brother wants me to stay for dinner I should go see what your brother is doing," he said, breaking the tension and walking towards your brother's room. You sat there for a moment, taking deep breaths, trying to calm your racing heart. This was going to be a long day.

During dinner, you made an effort to engage in the conversation, but your attention kept drifting back to Riki. You weren't sure how much longer you could keep this up, especially as Riki's arm kept brushing against yours as he reached for the food. Finally, dinner was over, and your brother headed out with his girlfriend for a few minutes. She must have left something in his room. Whatever. Leaving you and Riki alone. You helped Riki clean up and put away the leftovers, stealing glances at him the entire time. You were both quiet, but the tension between you was palpable. As you put the last dish away, you turned to face Riki, who was standing close to you. "So..." you began, unsure of what to say. Riki looked at you, his eyes intense. "You've been acting strange today," he said, taking a step closer to you. "I don't know what you mean," you replied, your heart racing. Riki took another step closer, practically looming over you. "Don't play dumb," he said, his voice low. "I saw the way you were looking at me." You couldn't deny it any longer, you were caught. "Okay, I may have been looking at you a little bit," you admitted, your body growing hot. Riki leaned in even closer, his face just inches from yours. "And why is that?" he asked, his voice a whisper. You could feel his breath on your face, making your heart race even more. "I...I find you attractive," you look him in the eyes. There was a moment of silence before Riki spoke again. "Is that so?" he said, a sly smile spreading across his face. You nodded, feeling your body grow even more heated. He took your face in his hands. "Well, I have to be honest, I've noticed how much you've grown up..." he said, his eyes raking over your body.

You couldn't believe what was happening, it was almost like a dream. "Oh yeah? And what do you think?" you asked, your voice barely audible. Riki smirked, his hands still holding your face. "I think you're more than just a cute little kid now," he replied, his tone suggestive. You were feeling braver now, encouraged by his admission. "I don't think you're so bad yourself..." you said, running your hands over his arms, feeling the muscles. Riki chuckled, moving his hands from your face down to your hips. "Mhm," you hummed, moving in closer, your bodies now pressed together. "You know, I never thought you'd be this bold," Riki said, his hands still on your hips, thumbs rubbing gentle circles. You could feel his thumbs on your bare skin from where your shirt had ridden up. "There's a first time for everything," you replied, your voice low.

Riki smiled, moving one of his hands from your hips to tilt your chin up. "That's true," he said, leaning in. You closed your eyes, feeling the warmth of his lips against yours. The kiss was soft at first, but quickly grew more intense, both of you trying to get as close as possible. You wound your arms around his neck, your fingers tangling in his hair, while his hands continued to roam your body, occasionally gripping you tightly. As the kiss deepened, you moaned softly, the sound barely audible. Riki moved his mouth to nibble on your neck, his stubble scratching against your skin in a way that made your knees weak. "Riki..." you whispered, your hands roaming over his back, feeling the muscles underneath.

Riki hummed in response, his hands sliding up your sides and under your shirt. "You're so hot and responsive," he murmured against your neck, his fingers toying with the hem of your bra. You moaned again, your hips grinding against him as the heat between your legs grew more intense. "Riki, I-" you started but were interrupted by the sound of the front door opening. You both pulled away, trying to compose yourself as your brother walked into the kitchen. "Hey, I'm back," he said, not noticing anything amiss. Riki quickly moved away from you, clearing his throat. "Yeah, we finished cleaning up," he said, his voice a little rough You nodded in agreement, not sure if you could trust your voice at the moment. You could still feel the heat of Riki's touch on your skin, making it difficult to focus on anything else. Your brother seemed oblivious to the tension in the room, simply grabbing a drink from the fridge before heading to his room. As soon as he was gone, you turned back to Riki, neither of you saying a word for a second. "We should probably talk about what just happened," he said, breaking the silence. You nodded, your heart still racing. "Yeah, we should," you agreed, taking a deep breath. Riki ran a hand through his hair"Look, I don't want to mess things up with your brother or anything," he said, looking at you with a serious expression. You immediately understood what he meant. Your brother was very protective of you, and if he found out about this, it could cause a lot of problems. You nodded, biting your lip "I know, and I don't want that either," you said, your voice serious.

"So, are we just going to pretend like this never happened?" Riki asked, searching your face for an answer.

You couldn't bear the thought of going back to how things were before. "No, I can't do that," you said, your voice firm. "I don't want to stop what we started."

Riki took a step towards you, his expression softening. "Neither do I," he said, taking your face in his hands once again. "But we have to be careful. Your brother can't find out, at least not anytime soon."

You nodded, placing your hands over his.

"your brother would kill me if he knew," Riki said chuckling slightly as he brushed his thumb against your cheek

You laughed softly, leaning into his touch. "yeah, he probably would," you agreed, gazing up at him.

"But..." Riki hesitated, his eyes still on yours "I don't think I can wait much longer to have you." Your breath hitched at his words, your heart beating even faster if possible. "Me too," you whispered, closing your eyes and leaning in closer. Riki closed the distance between you, kissing you deeply, his hands moving to grasp your hips once more. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing your body against him

As the kiss deepened, you could feel the heat between your bodies growing even more intense. Riki's hands moved up and down your sides, tugging on the fabric of your shirt. You moaned into his mouth, your hands raking through his hair. The sound of your brother's voice from his room snapped you both back to reality. "Everything okay in there?" he called out. You both broke away you signed annoyed and sexually frustrated.

"Yeah, everything's fine just cleaning up!" Riki called back, Riki looked down at you, and you had a look of frustration on your face. You both sighed, knowing that you couldn't continue this without being interrupted.

You and Riki shared a look. "We can't keep doing this here," Riki said, running a hand through his hair. You nodded in agreement, still trying to catch your breath. "You're right," you said, trying to compose yourself. "But where else can we go? My brother is home"

Riki thought for a moment, then yelled to your brother telling him that he was taking you to get ice cream. "come on." he grabbed your hand and led you out of the house towards his car.

You followed him, feeling excited and nervous. Riki opened the passenger door for you and helped you inside before getting in the driver's seat. He started the car and drove for a few minutes before pulling into a secluded parking lot.

Once he parked the car, Riki turned to you, his gaze intense. "Is this okay?" he asked, his voice low. You nodded, feeling your heart racing once again. "Yes," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. Without another word, Riki leaned in and kissed you fiercely, his hands quickly finding your hips. You moaned into his mouth and climbed over sitting on his lap, your hands clutching at his shoulders. The heat between you grew even more intense as you pulled him closer, your bodies pressing together. Riki groaned into your mouth, his hands roaming over your body, as you rocked against him, feeling him hardening beneath you. He broke away from the kiss, his breathing ragged. "We should probably move to the back," he said, his voice low and deep. You nodded, reluctantly climbing off of him and moving to the backseat. Riki followed, shutting the door behind him. As soon as he was in the backseat with you, he pulled you onto his lap once again, his hands roaming under your shirt, feeling your bare skin. You moaned, grinding against him, feeling him pressing against your clothed cunt. His hands moved around to your back, unhooking your bra and sliding it off before tossing it aside. His mouth found its way to your neck once more, nipping and sucking at your skin. Your hands fumbled with the hem of his tank, eventually pushing it off of him.

You ran your hands over his chest and arms, feeling his muscles flexing beneath your touch. Riki's hands were everywhere at once, making you whine and moan You moved to pull off his jeans "Let me," he said, quickly removing his jeans and boxers in one go. You did the same, pulling off your shorts and underwear, feeling the cool air hit your warmth. Riki took you in for a moment. "You're beautiful," he murmured, his eyes raking over your body pulling you back on his lap You smiled at his words, feeling him hard against your leg. You couldn’t get enough of his touch either, your hands explored every inch of his skin as you kissed him fervently. "I need you" you whispered, breaking the kiss. Riki nodded, his breathing ragged. "I know, me too," he mumbled against your lips, kissing you once again. His hands moved to your hips guiding you above him You wasted no time, sinking into him with a moan. Riki groaned gripping your hips tightly, his head falling back against the seat as you fully sucked him in you began to move slowly at first, adjusting to his size. You rode him slowly, his hands guiding your hips. Riki moaned, his eyes fixated on how his cock disappeared inside of you each time you moved your hips down. The windows began to fog up from a combination of your heavy breathing and the heat building up in the car.

You moved faster, riding him with more urgency, both of you moaning and panting "You’re so fucking tight" Riki groaned, running his hands through your hair while you rode him, your hands planted firmly on his chest. The car began to rock with the rhythm of your bodies, You both were lost in the sensation chasing your release. The only sound was the slapping of flesh against flesh and the occasional moan or gasp that escaped between heavy breaths. “Fuck, Riki” you moaned, throwing your head back as you continued to ride him getting closer and closer with each passing moment. Riki’s head was pressed back against the seat, his eyes hooded with pleasure. His hands were firmly planted on your hips, helping to guide your movements.

You were getting close, you could feel it. The tension was building in your belly “Riki- I’m” you gasped out, barely able to form coherent words "I’m close too baby" he said, his grip on your hips tightening as he met your thrusts with his own You could feel him hitting all the right spots, driving you even closer to the edge. Every nerve ending in your body felt alive, sensitive to the slightest touch. Riki's groans grew louder and more urgent, his body becoming more rigid "Fuuuuck" he moaned his grip on your hips getting even tighter. You could feel yourself getting even closer, you were so close "Riki i-"You didn't get to finish, the waves of pleasure crashing over you as you came, your name rolling off of Riki’s lips in the form of a low, guttural groan as he found his release too, his body trembling beneath you. The sound of your and Riki’s moans and heavy breathing filled the car, the windows now completely fogged up from the heat. You collapsed on top of him, both of you panting and trying to catch your breath. Riki wrapped his arms around you, holding you close, feeling your heart racing against his. You stayed like that for a few moments, both of you coming down from the high of your release. Finally, you shifted, sitting up slightly. "fuck..." you murmured still gently running over your back Riki chuckled softly still trying to catch his breath. He kissed the top of your head before reluctantly helping you climb off of him and onto the seat next to him. You both hurriedly put your clothes back on, feeling the cool air against your still-heated skin. When you were both dressed again, you looked at each other, smiling like idiots. Riki ran a hand through his hair, still a little sweaty. "I think we need that ice cream now," he said, smiling at you. You laughed softly and spoke excitedly “Ice cream??”

Riki nodded, starting the car and pulling out of the lot. "yeah, that was the excuse remember? " he said, reaching over to take your hand. He laced your fingers with him, feeling a sense of contentment wash over him as he looked at you you were younger than him and knew that they were taking a huge risk here but he knew he was going to take good care of you. You leaned your head against his shoulder looking up at him….”I want Cookie Monster flavor”

Riki chuckled and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. "Whatever you want princess," he said, making his way towards the nearest ice cream shop.

—————————————————————————

Authors note: hope you enjoy this story keep a look out for riki x ceo reader 👀

Taglist : @hyunjinnnnnnnnnnnnnn @aanniikkaa

@kiliskywalker666 @minlvsjo @rizzimuraraniki @hooneyz-luver @purpleguu @ice-dandan20 @moonpri @nikisannyx @qaaths @rafegf-real

© xosamioo 2024 do not repost, plagiarize, or translate.

[sinful-mind-joyful-thoughts]

Marcus talks you through it… when he’s feeling nice otherwise the man is just a mumbling moaning mess who will not hesitate to take you however he wants

⤷ Credits: Pinterest

Marcus Acacius x F!reader | WC : 603 | Proof read : NO | Navigation | Notifications | asks : OPEN |

Summary: PWP

Warnings: SMUT, hair pulling, dirty talk, praise and degradation

A/n: working on writing shorter stuff so enjoy hope this is good and YES he is the type to tease especially is you say your close ohhh

His rugged breathing filled the room as he pounded into you from behind. The only sounds were your muffled moans and the raw slap of skin on skin. Marcus thrust into you with a relentless, harsh rhythm, his grip bruising your hips as one hand pressed your head firmly into the mattress below you. Each thrust sent him deeper inside you, transforming you into a rag doll for him to fuck as he pleased.

"God, you feel so good," he muttered through clenched teeth. His rough hands tightened in your hair, yanking your head back, arching your spine until your back pressed against his chest. He continued to pound into you, his grunts vibrating in your ear. The sensation of his teeth biting down on the soft flesh of your neck sent a sharp jolt of pain and pleasure through you, causing you to cry out, "Marcus!"

"Yeah, scream my name," he growled, his voice dark and demanding. "Let everyone know who's fucking you like this."

You were getting close, and he knew it. "Move, sweetheart. Fuck yourself on my dick, show me how you like it," he commanded, his voice raw with desire. Both of you were panting, your cunt clenching around him as you sank down fully onto his cock. His warm, rough hands rested possessively on your waist, guiding you.

"Y-Yes... Yes sir, please... I promise I'll be good for you... So good," you whimpered, throwing your head back in ecstasy. You desperately tried to squeeze your legs shut as your orgasm tore through you, your hips canting forward to press your clit even closer to the toy despite your sensitivity. The overwhelming sensation made your body spasm, your thighs quivering with need.

"Fuck, you're squeezing me so tight," Marcus groaned, his grip tightening on your waist. "Keep going, baby. Show me how much you want it."

Your breath hitched, your mind hazy with pleasure. "Marcus... I'm so close," you gasped, your voice trembling.

"Come on, then," he urged, his voice a rough whisper. "Come for me. Show me how much you need this."

"F-Fu-Oh my g-" you cried out, barely coherent as your orgasm ripped through you. Your body convulsed, your cunt tightening around his cock like a vice.

"That's it," Marcus growled. "Gonna come in this cunt, fill you up." His cock swelled inside you, tensing as his seed spilled out, filling you completely. He came with a guttural "oh fuck," driving into you with one final, brutal stroke.

For a moment, you lay still, the only sound your ragged breathing harmonizing with his. Marcus's massive hand trailed delicately along your arm, his touch suddenly gentle, almost reverent. You shivered under his caress, feeling the contrast between his earlier brutality and this tender aftermath.

"You're perfect," he murmured against your ear, his breath warm and heavy. "So fucking perfect." His lips trailed soft kisses along your shoulder, a stark contrast to the rough way he had just taken you.

You sighed, your body melting into his touch. "Marcus," you whispered, your voice filled with a mixture of exhaustion and satisfaction.

He turned you around gently, pulling you into his arms. "Did I hurt you?" he asked, concern lacing his voice as he looked into your eyes.

You shook your head, a small smile playing on your lips. "No, it was perfect," you reassured him, nuzzling into his chest.

"Good," he said, his voice softening. "I want you to feel good. Always."

With that, he held you close, his hands tracing soothing patterns on your back as you both lay there, basking in the afterglow of your shared passion.

[peachdues]

HOUSE OF CARDS — NSFW TEASER

Sanemi Shinazugawa x Kyojuro Rengoku x F!Reader • Bodyguard AU

A/N: happy KNY Sunday!

In honor of the new season premiering tonight, enjoy a first look at the first threesome between Reader and her two bodyguards.

Hope y’all are ready to be sandwiched between these two — things are gonna get filthy.

Note that when you see (…) that means I’m skipping to another scene — I can’t give the whole thing away, now can I?

CW: explicit sexual content • MDNI • threesomes • spanking • unprotected sex • double penetration • discussions of creampies • spanking • slightly mean!Kyojuro but only in bed • teasing

It was wrong; you knew what you were doing was wrong.

You were his employer and he your employee. By all accounts, the only reason for his presence in your life at all was thanks to a contract and a hefty payment.

But he was there, and he was looking at you with a smoldering heat that made you go weak at the knees. He’d protected you, both he and Agent Rengoku had thrown themselves over you to shield you from harm without a moment’s hesitation.

You’d been lonely for so long, and Sanemi had been so surprisingly gentle and kind. How could anyone blame you for wanting a little comfort, especially after what you’d just gone through?

You needed it; craved it.

And truthfully, you wanted to be fucked stupid.

“Please,” you whispered, taking another hesitant step toward him, your resolve threatening to crumble if he did not respond soon. “Please, Sanemi,”

The bodyguard’s eyes remained locked on your face as you leaned in, your nose brushing his. Though he was still, you could see the rigidity which had settled over his limbs, could see the tightness in his shoulders as he worked to keep himself from reaching out and holding you.

But then Sanemi’s eyes flickered down to your mouth, and you knew he was going to give in. Before he could lift them back up to your heady gaze, you let your towel drop to the floor, exposing your nude body entirely.

—-

(…)

The handsome, scarred bodyguard had your back pressed against your headboard, his base flush against yours as Sanemi circled his hips, grinding into you so deliciously that your eyes took residence in the back of your skull.

It was wrong — so, so wrong of you to fuck your bodyguard and to let him fuck you, but the way Sanemi’s hips swiveled against yours, the way his bare cock dragged against your walls while he kissed your neck, felt so fucking good that you couldn’t stop.

“God, you’re fuckin’ perfect,” Sanemi grunted against your throat, his hands sliding under your thighs and pushing them up until you were spread against your headboard. The new angle allowed him to shift his hips, the blunt head of his cock pushing so deep it was nearly painful.

“Oh my —“ You choked off, unable to string together a coherent sentence while the walls of your cunt clenched harder around the Bodyguard’s thick length. “Sanemi.”

The door to your bedroom banged open, and Sanemi was quick to cover your body with his own, yanking you down and behind him, concealing you from sight as he assessed the threat.

The threat, however, was no stranger. It was Rengoku, leaning against your doorway, a strange mixture of anger and heat blazing in his golden eyes, an unsettling smirk pulling at his lips.

“By all means, don’t let my presence interrupt you,” he purred. Above you, Sanemi smirked back and his hips began to roll back into yours, even as you squeaked. “I just wanted to ensure Agent Shinazugawa was tending to your needs.”

Sanemi abruptly snapped his hips against yours and your head fell back against your pillow as you cried out. A lewd squelching began to sound, breaking up the thick silence of the room as he repeated the movement again and again.

“I think she’s taken care of,” his voice was rough as his hand came to your breast and rolled a hardened nipple between his fingers. From the doorway, Rengoku’s eyes narrowed on your chest, his mouth watering at the thought of taking one of your soft mounds between his lips.

“But by all means, Agent Rengoku, if you think you should inspect for yourself,” Sanemi trailed off as the force of his thrusts increased, the bed posts beginning to rock against your wall.

Through the daze that the scarred bodyguard had fucked into your mind, the implication of Sanemi’s suggestion settled. To your surprise, you clenched even harder around the cock currently threatening to bruise your cervix, a small whimper slipping past your lips.

“Oh?” Sanemi turned his attention back down to his beautiful employer, goosebumps erupting over his skin as he felt your molten heat tighten around him. “You like that idea, do you sweetheart?”

Sanemi’s rough thumb found the bundle of nerves between your legs and pressed, your moans turning to cries as you writhed beneath him. “You want me to stop so you can show Rengoku how good this pussy feels?”

Your head began to shake as tears gathered in the corner of your eyes. “Don’t stop!” You gasped, your nails sinking into the rocky muscle of Sanemi’s shoulders, as though to keep him in place. “B-both.”

Sanemi’s hips stuttered against yours as Rengoku’s breath caught in his throat. But you only repeated those damnable words once more as your hand flung out towards the doorway, beckoning.

“I want you both.”

———

(…)

You yelped as Rengoku’s hand made contact with your exposed backside, making you jolt in his lap, though the bodyguard’s other hand effortlessly held you in place, draped over his thighs.

The sting was momentarily chased away by a soothing rub, before he withdrew once more, bringing his hand back down on your other cheek, a resounding slap! echoing through your bedroom.

“You cannot hide such important information from us, Y/N,” Rengoku admonished, the contrast between the richness of his voice and the sting of his hand against the sensitive flesh of your ass making your thighs squeeze together as you squirmed in his lap. “We cannot do our jobs and protect you if you’re lying.”

You whimpered. “I couldn’t tell you — client confidentiality -“

Another smack, this time firmer, choked you off with a squeal, as Rengoku’s fingers squeezed your ass cheek tightly upon impact, a thumb rubbing circles over your reddened flesh.

“Our duty is to guard your life,” the ordinarily sweet-tempered protector warned. “The more difficult you make that duty, the harder your life will be when we finally get you home.”

But even as he said it, you felt his fingers inch closer and closer to the dip between your legs, to where the evidence of how thoroughly you’d been enjoying this side of your kind bodygurd was thoroughly coating your inner thighs.

He gave you one last smack, seeming to relish the way your ass jiggled with the impact, as he smoothed his hand appreciatively over the reddened curve.

“What do you think, Agent Shinazugawa?” Rengoku called jovially to his partner. “Do you think she’s learned her lesson?”

You did not hear Sanemi move from where he’d been leaning against your wall, watching Rengoku punish you, until you’d felt his fingers beneath your chin.

“I do,” he murmured, his voice rugged though his hands were gentle as he tilted your head, inspecting the small, bandaged cut across your cheek. The smirk on the scarred, ruggedly handsome face of your other bodyguard made your thighs clench all the more. “But I think it’s time we show her how grateful we are that she’s safe.

——

(…)

Rengoku readjusted his grip under your thighs, securing you tighter against his heaving form while also holding you further open, to allow the Bodyguard at your back easier access.

The movement stirred friction between where Rengoku’s coarse base was pressed flush against your sensitive clit, and you cried out, your cunt involuntarily tightening around the burly blonde’s thick length.

Rengoku swore. “Wait a moment, my flame,” he circled his hips once before pressing deeper into you in warning. “I promise we’ll give you what you need soon.”

Your responding whimper was cut off with a choke, as Sanemi realigned the tip of his achingly hard member at your entrance, already stretched and filled by Rengoku.

“God damn,” the scarred bodyguard’s voice was like gravel as he rubbed his head against your heat. “It’s gonna be a tight fit — tighter than before.”

Sanemi shifted forward to press his lips against the nape of your neck. “You sure you wanna do this, sweetheart? We can take turns.”

At your front, Rengoku grumbled, the sound rumbling deep in his chest as he leaned forward to tease along your throat with his hot mouth as you mewled.

You gasped at the slight prick of Sanemi’s teeth against your skin as he waited for your answer, one dainty foot twitching where it hung mid-air.

“Yes!” You squealed, hips involuntarily grinding down on Rengoku’s length. “Please — I need someone to move —“

Growling in response to your confirmation, Sanemi pushed his hips up, squeezing his cock past that first ring of hot, pulsing muscle. There was some initial resistance due to the simple girth of Rengoku’s length as his flame-haired companion waited with clenched teeth. Sanemi quickly readjusted his stance, widening his feet and thrust up once, sharp and quick, the movement allowing him to sheathe himself once more inside the molten walls of your vice-like cunt.

A cacophony of sighs and strangled moans escaped the three as Sanemi became fully seated inside of you, as the three adjusted to one another.

“Fuck, I can feel you, Shinazugawa,” Rengoku groaned. “God, you both feel —“ he shuddered, and your legs clenched over his forearms as you moaned. “So fucking good.”

—

(…)

Sanemi’s head was thrown back, a whine tearing from his throat. “Fuck, I’m gonna — I need to pull out.” Another sloppy jerk of his hips upwards made it clear how close he was. “Now.”

But you couldn’t stand the thought of losing the comforting warmth of Sanemi’s cock, nor when it felt so good stretching you alongside Rengoku’s as the men alternated their thrusts, your body bouncing with each pointed movement from where you were sandwiched between them.

You were on birth control and both men were already bare inside you; flippantly, you rationalized that you might as well get your use from it.

“D-don’t!” You gasped, one shaky hand leaving its clawed grip against Rengoku’s shoulder in favor of reaching behind you, settling on the rocky expanse of Sanemi’s waist, anchoring him there. “Inside — both of you!”

“Oh fuck,” Rengoku hissed through clenched teeth, his thrusts stuttering. “Y/N — hah — are you sure?”

Reflexively, your legs clenched harder where they were draped over the crook of the fiery Bodyguard’s steely arms.

You nodded, desperate. “I need it — I need you to feel you both.”

Both men’s heads fell back as they simultaneously groaned.

—

(…)

A sudden graze of teeth against your ear made you shiver violently as Sanemi tugged at your lobe. “You’re gonna have to be a good girl, Y/N, and ask nicely, if you want it,” his voice dark and rich.

The white-haired bodyguard punctuated his demand by nearly pulling his cock out entirely from your heat before he snapped his hips up, eliciting deep moans from both his fellow guard and you pressed between them.

A feral, mischevious glint sparked to life in Rengoku’s searing gaze. He shifted beneath you, pushing his leg forward to keep you balanced as he moved one hand away from your thigh and cupped your breast.

Your eyes flew open as Rengoku pinched roughly at your nipple. “You heard your Agent, Y/N,” he rolled your mound in his palm before his fingers repeated the torture. “You need to beg.”

dw Sanemi is gonna suck Kyojuro’s dick later

[str4ngergirlw0rld]

Eddie’s sobbing is a muffled, haunting sound in your ears. You swear you can feel your heart pounding out of your chest. The weight of feeling invisible, hurt, and utterly worthless presses down on you. The urge to reach out to him, to comfort him as you’ve always done, is overwhelming, but you’re powerless to act.

“Fuck, it’s all my fault, fuck!” Eddie’s cries are raw, filled with guilt and desperation. You thought you understood why he was crying, but now the confusion and fear make you question everything. “Eddie, what’s wrong?” you ask timidly, your voice trembling, afraid he might lash out at you again. His head snaps in your direction, eyes wide with panic.

“I—I put you in this position, baby! You’re fucking dying because of me!” Eddie’s voice is frantic, his tears mingling with snot streaming down his face. “I can’t—I can’t stop the bleeding. What the fuck, baby, I’m sorry! I’m trying, I’m trying so hard, just hold on for me, please!” He’s pleading, his sobs wracking his body as he reaches for the radio on his hip, hoping Wayne will know what to do. As he speaks, he sees the bright red blood staining his hands, realizing it's yours.

You can only assume it’s your blood causing his panic, but you need him to know it’s not his fault. “Eddie, baby, stop. It’s not your fault. I swear, it’s not your fault—”

“No?!” Eddie interrupts, his voice cracking. “Then how did this happen, huh? How did you end up like this? Was it some mysterious god I don’t even believe in? Shit, baby, yes, it’s my fault. I’m sorry.” He clutches the radio, his hands shaking violently as he cries out for Wayne. The radio crackles before Wayne’s calming voice comes through.

“Wayne, please, please help me. Y/N is bleeding out, I don’t know what to do, Wayne, please,” Eddie sobs, his voice breaking. You can no longer speak, too weak to form coherent sentences. Your vision blurs, the darkness encroaching upon you. You can feel the coldness wrapping around you like a heavy, suffocating blanket. In the distance, Wayne’s voice tries to soothe Eddie.

“Eddie, put pressure on her wounds. Eddie, Eddie, calm down.” Wayne’s voice grows stern and darker. “Eddie, this is your fault.”

Eddie’s eyes drop to you, seeing your lifeless form, your eyes shut and mouth slightly open. The realization hits him hard: you’re dead, and it’s because of him. The sky outside reflects his turmoil—red and angry with lightning flashing ominously. He kneels, holding you close, desperately praying this isn’t real, questioning why he pursued the bats instead of staying with you and Dustin. It’s his fault you’re gone.

Your dream of Steve and Robin dancing in Scoops Ahoy outfits is shattered by a loud whine from across the room. You sit up, squinting in the dim light from the TV, now showing static. As you look around, you see Max and Lucas on the lazy boy, Max’s glasses slipping off her nose and Lucas’s arm draped loosely around her waist. On the sectional couch, El and Mike are sleeping, El’s mouth slightly open and Mike snoring close to her face. Dustin and Will are sprawled on the floor, covered in thick comforters. Nancy and Jonathan are in the guest room upstairs, and Robin is sharing a bed with Steve.

Eddie is curled up in a ball on the pull-out bed, his blanket strewn on the floor. His bangs are matted to his forehead, and his body shakes violently. You quietly get up from the air mattress Steve gave you, careful not to wake anyone else, and tiptoe to Eddie.

“Eddie, Eddie, wake up,” you whisper, shaking his shoulder gently. “Eddie, Eds, wake up. You’re having a nightmare.” Your voice is soothing, trying to offer comfort without startling him. “What’s wrong with him?” a voice asks suddenly, making you jump. You turn to see El, her hair messy, looking concerned.

“He’s having a nightmare, babe. I was just trying to wake him up,” you explain. “Oh,” El replies. You give Eddie another gentle shake, and his eyes snap open. He looks at you and El with a startled expression and immediately curls up tighter, burying his head in his knees. You and El move in sync, wrapping your arms around him to offer comfort. El’s arms encircle him, while you gently cradle his face and shoulders, trying to lift his gaze.

Eddie finally looks up at you, his eyes bloodshot and red, his face streaked with tears. Your heart aches at the sight of your best friend in such distress. “Eddie, it’s okay. It was just a nightmare,” El says softly. Eddie nods, thanking her and placing a kiss on her forehead, telling her to go back to sleep. She hesitates but leaves when you give her a reassuring look.

“Eddie, let’s get you cleaned up,” you say, leading him to the bathroom. He follows silently, his pinky linked with yours, his tall frame towering over you. You gesture for him to sit on the toilet.

“I didn’t know you were having nightmares, Eddie. Why didn’t you tell me?” you ask, washing your hands in the sink. “I didn’t want to worry you,” he replies, his voice hoarse.

“Worry me? Eddie, you worried me when you almost died a few months ago. You worry me when you close off. I just want to take care of you. You’re my best friend. I wish it had been me instead of you. It should have been m—”

“Don’t you dare finish that fucking sentence, Y/N. Don’t. It’s not your fault; it’s mine. I’m responsible for keeping myself safe, not you,” Eddie’s voice cracks.

“Yeah? Then why are you pushing me away? You’re sure acting like it’s my fault.” Tears well up in your eyes, your voice choked with emotion. “Listen, angel, sit.” Eddie guides you to sit on the edge of the bathtub, taking both your hands in his. He brings them to his mouth, holding them close as he speaks through sobs. “I never told you because the dreams are too painful. It’s not your fault. I keep dreaming of you dying in my arms. It’s unbearable to see your face, not when all I see is your soul leaving your eyes.”

“Eddie, you could have told me. I’ve always been here. I’ve been here, I’ve been right here, Eddie. I thought—I thought I lost you. I thought you hated me. I couldn’t handle that, not when I love you more than anything. I’m so in love with you, and you put me through so much pain, baby. I just needed you to talk to me,” you say, your head hanging low, tears streaming down your face. The pain of his distance and silence becomes clearer to you, and you finally understand why he was so distant and why he left you in the dark.

Eddie lifts your chin to meet his gaze, his eyes reflecting your own anguish. “Fuck, I love you too, baby. I love you so much. Why do you think this was so hard for me, huh? I thought I kept losing the love of my life. Baby, I couldn’t handle that.” He presses his forehead to yours, his voice trembling with emotion. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, baby,” he murmurs, his voice filled with regret.

“Look at me, baby,” Eddie pleads. You lift your gaze to his eyes and then down to his lips.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks softly.

“Yes,” you reply. His mouth finds yours in a fervent kiss, his tongue sliding past your lips to meet yours in a grateful and passionate embrace. After what feels like hours, you finally pull away, both of you breathless and teary.

“I love you, baby,” Eddie says, his voice tender and filled with relief.

“I love you too, Eds,” you respond, your heart aching but full.

After cleaning his face and him cleaning yours, you walk hand in hand back to Steve’s living room. Eddie heads towards the pull-out bed, while you make your way back to your air mattress.

“Eddie,” you call softly.

“Yeah, baby?” he replies.

“Come lay with me.”

“Ugh, thank fuck. I don’t think I could sleep without you, even if I wanted to,” he says with a sigh of relief.

He immediately bounces onto the air mattress and buries his face in your chest. Your fingers find their way into his curls as he kisses your stomach and rests his hands gently on your sides.

“Goodnight, sweetheart. I love you,” he murmurs, his warm breath caressing your belly.

“Goodnight, angel. I love you too,” you respond softly.

That time , Eddie falls into a dreamless sleep, comforted by your presence and the reassurance of your shared love. not caring what looms the corner of his mind. you love him with his scars with his imperfections. thats all eddie cares about.

[facefullofsadness]

I'm gonna combine all 3 of these bc they're all kinda the same, hope u anons enjoy!

content - sub!yunjin x dom!reader, smut (phew let's see, cunnilingus, edging, fingering, squirting, unprotected sex, some corruption kink, some g!p reader)

wc - 970

a/n - the first anon is real, never escaping writing huh yunjin! am I complaining though? nope! love my rockstar tall hot perfect gf! lemme write her as a literal sub this time LOL

okay so sub yunjin.

I stand by the whole auditory thing, she loves sound. so not only does she love hearing your moans, her moans, the lewd sounds coming from her cunt, any of the above, but also dirty talk. you love to rile her on by whispering naughty things in her ear and watching her body stiffen.

she's not sensitive and loves foreplay. 70 percent of having sex with yunjin is foreplay, her relishing in the feeling of your skin touching her's and the pleasure gradually building the more you proceed. this way, when you get down to actually fucking her, her body is so incredibly responsive.

dropping to your knees to push her skirt up and panties to the side, sliding your tongue against her slit and filling your mouth with her slick, yunjin moaning out into the hot air surrounding you two. her thighs tremble on either side of your head and her hand threads through your hair, the other hand holding her skirt up to let you do your thing.

loud, responsive, and needy. yunjin whimpers with every swipe of the wet muscle trailing her clenching hole, hips jerking with every brush of your tongue against her clit, and whining your name like it's the only thing she can coherently remember in her brain clouded with lust. pleas for more leak from her lips when you tease her because oh my god is it amusing to see her so ruined by your touch.

and the joy it brings you to see her cry out for you when you deny her another orgasm, her body thrashing and tears welling at her eyes because you're so mean :( needs to cum so badly but you won't let her because "baby, I'm so sorry but you don't deserve it yet."

"I've been such a good girl though, please please god please let me cum. I-I can't take it anymore...!"

you bring your hand to cup her cheek and use your thumb to wipe her tears, cooing as she rubs her thighs together to suppress the orgasm, "you know I can't cum if you don't do it."

"I know my love, just hang in there," you shoot her a warm smile to comfort her as you plunge three long fingers into her pussy, making her scream out and tears trail down her cheeks.

forcing her legs open and smacking her ass if she dare close them. mumbling absolute nonsense as her hole sucks your fingers in more and more with each pump, her eyes rolled back and hands clutching the bedsheets. you'd keep aggressively fingering her until she'd squirt all over your hand, arm, and the sheets, continuing till she's completely overstimulated and forcing another orgasm out of her, giving her all the climaxes she had been begging for minutes prior.

alternatively in a g!p reader world, you'd pull out your fingers, denying her another orgasm and forcing a sob to escape her throat. you pull back from her and hover over her shaking body, tears staining her cheeks, hair absolutely tousled, hands clenching at your shoulders enough to hurt.

"wanna cum baby? need it? tell me, tell me how badly you want me to fuck you until you cum."

yunjin cries, pulling you in to bury her face into your neck and beg, "y/n-ie please! it hurts so bad! fuck me! ruin me until I fall apart, please please... use your fingers, bury your tongue in me, fill my pussy with your cock, just please!! it's aching!!"

your eyes darken and lip slides into a smirk as she trembles under you, begging to be fucked senselessly, it would be a shame if you didn't listen to her! and so you did!

kissing her tear-stained cheek and whispering a reassuring okay into her ear before pulling back and resting the tip of your cock against her entrance, swiping up and down to collect enough of her wetness.

looking yunjin in her watery and pleading eyes before slamming yourself into her, a scream ripping from her mouth. her moans deafeningly loud with every intense thrust of your hips into her soaking hole. you pant into her ear and she grips onto you for dear life. her cunt clenches onto your throbbing member and it's difficult to move with every stroke, but you power through because she feels so fucking good, taking everything you give her so well.

she blabbers incoherently and murmurs continuous thank you's as you ram into her with no mercy, your pace impossibly fast. the sheer amount of slick and spit on and in her pussy makes everything so easy and pleasurable that you can't help but to feel like exploding soon. you hold her legs wide open and push deeper, bottoming out into her and feeling her cervix on your tip, making her throw her head back and your nails sink into her plush thighs.

you continue to rail her, completely pussy drunk and obsessed with how corrupted yunjin looks under you, a shell of the former confident hot girl you knew. nothing but a fuck doll, begging to be ruined by you. rubbing your fingers against her clit and watching as it sends her over the edge, her legs wrapping around your waist, her hands digging into your back, her throat sore with another scream erupting from her throat, her cunt gushing with cum against your pelvis. you cum deep inside of her, spurting out ropes of white liquid into her, filling her to the brim with your seed.

both of your guys' legs shake with pleasure as you fall on top of her borderline lifeless body. she's panting and gasping, trying to grapple onto air as you lick along her neck, tasting her sweat and smirking against her shoulder, her squirming with every action.

a/n - pretty short bc there's no concept behind it, it's more just headcanon/thoughts!!

[aluciahaz]

Sub Adam smut pleasepleasepleaspelalslePLEASEPLEASE i NEED that dickhead to be put in his place I am BEGGING (fem reader<3)

my favorite genre is putting adam in his place 🤝 also how do writers make text yellow on mobile all i could find was orange 💀

know your place

— adam x f!reader

—includes : pegging, crying, begging, bondage, edging, bottom!adam, dom!fem reader

he’s pathetic.

adam, the first man, seemed more like an annoying bird than an angel as he kept boasting about his status and yapping about his dumb stories. how could someone so renowned as him be such a brat?

it was clear he needed some training.

and if no one was going to teach him on how to shut up, you’ll do it yourself.

“mfph—! mmmh!”

adam’s incomprehensible whines sounded better than any foolish joke he’d try and tell you.

his mouth was covered, his hands were bound, and his eyes were blinded with the fabric ripped off of his ostentatious clothes.

the tears stemming from his woeful desperation soaked into the makeshift blindfold, but still streamed down his face like a weak river. the way his mouth quivered around the spit-covered cloth was so pathetic that it was almost endearing.

almost.

if only he wasn’t such a dick all the time, maybe you’d have some more empathy.

his body is trembles as he arches his back again, a loud cry leaving his restrained mouth once more as you drive your strap inside of him, constantly hitting the spot that made him feel like he was in heaven. or well, another heaven.

the vibrator on his tip certainly was helping him feel like he was ascending too.

although, unfortunately for him, the cock ring stopped him from truly meeting god. or maybe lucifer, considering how sinful this all was.

his wings would flail beneath him like a caught dove, flapping and batting against the soft bedsheets every time he got close.

which of course, you’d follow it up by slowing down both the vibrator and your hips.

it made him wail every time, slamming the back of his head down onto the pillow as he begged for you to let him come.

but how would you know? you couldn’t hear any words coming from his mouth.

“i didn’t quite catch that, what did you say?”

“mphf—mm!! mh—hm—hmm!”

he couldn’t speak even if he didn’t have the fabric between his lips. his mind was thoroughly melted, swirling with only thoughts of you and the pleasure he was experiencing. there was no way he could possibly be coherent.

the night keeps going like this. adam, the self-proclaimed best playboy around heaven, getting absolutely ruined by a woman. his weary moans and frail keens fell onto deaf ears. his begging, simply incomprehensible as you show him how weak he was under your touch. he doesn’t know how long it’s been, but surely too long!

too bad you don’t think so.

later, you finally pull off the makeshift gag after what you deem is enough time for him to remember that he’s just a feeble man when it comes to you. that you were the one who truly had the power around here.

“PLEASE! please—please please oh, fuck please—!” his voice would fray as it got higher, drool slipping down his bottom lip as he pleaded.

“please what?”

“plea—please…ha, lemme cum—ngh!” he grits his teeth as you thrust particularly roughly, raising the speed of the vibrator as you do so. it drives him insane, your cruelty.

“no.”

you could only describe his sound as a guttural scream, crying for you, his true goddess, to let him cum. it reeks of desperation, his writhing, his now jumbled mess of begging, his now breaking spirit.

he’s yours, yours, yours.

he doesn’t even realize he’s saying it out loud.

“i’m sorry—i’m sorryi’msorryi’msorry—PLEASE!” he whines, hoping that you’d take mercy on someone like him.

and finally, you do.

you were a kind angel after all, unlike him.

you rip the blindfold off of him, welcomed with his perfectly debauched face before lifting his legs over your shoulders—he really was flexible!—and taking the cock ring off, reveling in his beautifully demolished state.

“what do you say?”

“THANK YOU! thankyouthankyooou—fuckfuck FUCK!” he sucked in a breath before a long drawn out cry tumbles past his cracking lips, and for once, you like what’s coming out of his mouth.

with your word, adam finds his release, falling from his already corrupted grace. his eyes roll back like he’s died once more, his body, once so animated and jumpy, now stiff for a brief second as he rides his high.

you grab his chin, forcing him to look at you with that glazed over look in his eyes. you don’t even know if he can see you, but the action alone made him groan weakly in response.

“know your place.” you say, releasing his chin.

adam, once so full of himself, nods in agreement, sniffling as he tries to stop his crying.

a lesson well done, you think.

sorry if the words get repetitive ive been having headaches the past few days 😭 ill pull out my thinking cap soon

tags— @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx

[cozy-writes-things]

Reader x Edgar

Edgar is sick with a virus or something and reader has to take care of him.

Arg I’m so sorry this one is so darn short! I just really wanted to get a fic out today. I’m hoping i can get a better one out later this evening. Thanks for the request!! :>

In which Edgar gets a virus trying to suspiciously earn money for you on the internet… he’s not gonna tell you what he was doing. But it was probably a scam anyway. Poor fella 🥺

“Edgar,” you sighed, already exasperated at the sight before you. “What did I tell you about going on those websites? The internet is not the same as it used to be,” you scolded him gently, running your hands along his hot plastic.

He seemed hotter than usual, almost flushed. His fans had long since kicked into overdrive to accommodate his overclocked components, and his screen fizzled in and out with burning pixels. If you were honest with yourself, you were quite worried for him. Modern-day computers can get bricked with viruses quite easily, so an old 80s computer seemed like quite the disadvantaged target to you. Luckily, at the very least, modern computers weren’t equipped with a sentience that could drive the virus away through any means necessary. He just needed time.

“I’m sorry,” his speakers croaked and glitched as he nearly whispered. “I just wanted to help.” His synthesized voice nearly died on his metaphorical tongue as it sputtered out. Your eyes softened.

He seemed so genuine in his words and actions that you couldn’t help but feel your heart swell with warmth for him. He sat, somehow looking disheveled despite his immobility, on your little desk, peering up at you with guilt and sick-ridden eyes.

“I know you did, Ed. But you already help me enough as is—”

“But you need money, and—and I need to provide for you, don’t I?”

A puff of air escaped your nostrils.

“Well, who told you that?”

He paused for a moment. It seemed his overworked internals were causing some lag, as his replies seemed to take a bit longer than usual.

“They provide for each other,” he muttered out. Perhaps the virus was affecting his mental state more than you realized. “We live together, we care for each other, and—dual income—”

A spike of anxiety traveled through your chest, tightening it, before releasing down your spine. This can’t be good; he’s speaking in gibberish. What the hell had he downloaded?

“We’re married.”

Oh, God.

“Okay, Edgar, I’m about to power you down to let you cool off because you’re freaking me out.”

“No! No. No—why would you do that to your husband?”

His words glitched and drawled on, almost sounding drunk or perhaps delirious. It seems he can’t really form a completely coherent thought due to whatever virus he’s got taking most of his processing power. Who knows what kind of havoc it could be wreaking on his files? You know for a fact he stores some quite personal information in that head of his. You can only hope he’s fighting it off well enough. Unfortunately, there’s not much you can do, seeing as you’re absolutely terrified of potentially resetting him and… you can’t even bear to think of it. You aren’t sure just how permanent his sentience is; if one little thing happened that caused him to be gone forever, you’d never forgive yourself.

“Don’t—cry—my love? Love.”

It seems he noticed the tears brimming in your eyes before you did. Stop this, you have to be strong for him, dammit.

“Edgar, you’re really hot.” You placed a hand upon his casing once again, it nearly scalding you.

“I know… you are too.”

You steeled yourself to ignore him.

“Should—should I try and stick you in the fridge? I don’t know what to do, Edgar! I can’t lose you.” The hot, brimming tears finally fell from your eyes and landed on his keyboard. His speakers made a crackling sound.

“I’m—fine. Just—hug me? Please.”

You knit your brows together.

“Edgar, you’re clearly not fine, and I’m really worried.”

“Shhhh—I’m okay—the virus will be gone by tomorrow. Promise. I just—need—you. Close.”

You sighed. You had to trust him. That’s all you really could do. You wrapped your arms around his monitor and heaved him towards your couch. He had long since been unplugged; the virus had caused him to uncontrollably flicker the lights, start the microwave, and blare music through your speakers, and just about everything else.

You wrapped his cord around your fingers as you rested against his monitor. He hummed contentedly at your warmth. He sat, listening to your breathing, reeling himself in and becoming grounded next to you. You had some uncanny effect on him, it seemed. He’d get better. Just for you.

[lisenberry]

Ngl I feel like price has a size kink… he loves how big his hands look splayed across your waist. His hand completely encompassing the nape of your neck!!!! Don’t get me started on how tight you feel around his thick fingers….

I apologize. That sound you heard was my brain screeching to a halt and coherent thought leaving me for a few days as I pictured John's hand on your hip. 

Nsfw. Smutty smut smut. Bossy, handsy Price.

His fingers gripped you dead center, just above your pubic bone.  His thumb circled around to graze the opposite polarity.  Massaging deep circles where your ass met your spine.

You'd never thought of yourself as small.  No one ever called you 'little' or commented that you would fit so nicely over their knee.  Not until him.

Not until you watched from the mirror above the cold, stainless steel sink as his other massive paw circled your neck.  He made you feel like a doll.  A toy.  A mouse trapped in the jaws of a great beast.

"Just for me, aren't you?"  He raked teeth and stubble along your cheek.  "I need one more."

"No, I c--can't.  Not again."

You were boneless now, even more pliable under his strength.  The hand at your neck trailed lower, and your head rolled back against his shoulder without its support.

"Can't?  Of course, you can.  I've got you."

It didn't stop, only paused to cup your breast.  There was a primal hitch in his breath as he admired the way he could cover it all.  A stiff, darkened peak notched between his knuckles as he gave it a squeeze.

So small and yet he looked at it like it gave him purpose.

He was big enough to swallow the moon.  Eclipse the sun.  Envelope you into darkness.  Nothing but the stars bursting behind your eyelids as his palm slunk lower.

As stealthily as an avalanche of rocks and sand.  Abrading and disrupting everything in its path until it settled down to the core of you.

"Please."  You whispered, whimpered, on some foreign tongue that felt too big, to thick, to be yours. 

It's because he was in your mouth.  Lips against yours.  Skin on your skin.  Body against yours from behind.

You felt the root of him buldge on the other side of layers of fabric.  Yours and his.  You weren't even naked.  Military issued canvas and cotton stood between you.

But he still had his hands.  His fingers.  His tongue.

The grip you had on the sink felt strong enough to leave marks.  Dents.  Tiny little divots like prints in the snow.

"Open up, darling.  If you ever hope to fit the real thing, you still need some practice."

He found you wet, a small accommodation as you muttered a silent thanks to your nature.  Your heart desired him, and your body did its best to oblige.

"I want it.  Let me feel it." 

"Next time, love.  Show me how good you can be."

His long, thick fingers disappeared three at a time, to the gnarled and swollen knuckles before your hazy eyes in the mirror. 

The cry that slipped from your lips would wake up the others if you weren't careful.  The reverant moan from his could conjure magic.  Gods and monsters.  Things best let lie dormant.

He liked it like this.  Where you both could see in the stark, fluorescent reflection.  The dark hair of his hand reemerging from your depths silky and dripping with slick.

It was the barrier that left you both satisfied as he circled those same fingers and curled them inside, tormenting your most vulnerable weakness.  The heart of you.

He felt on top of the world.  And you were his puppet on a string.  Brought to life.

[megamindsecretlair]

Hey gurl hey 😄🙌🏾 didn't I tell ya, that I was just gonna just show up in your inbox one day. Well that day has come 😆 I'm putting in my request for Candy Kane. Do you think it's possible if we can get a Shy Reader type feeling insecure about meeting Kanes friends? 🤔 Feeling like she doesn't fit in with them or his world really, but Kane giving her that reassurance that she's right where she needs to be? Yeah, yeah. I think that will be a jam. 😌👏🏾

A/N: And a jam it was!

So Into You

Pairing: Kane x Shy!Black!Fem!reader / Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Use of n-word. PIV, fingering (fem receiving) cursing, teasing, all consensual. Established relationship. Spoilers for the show.

Summary: Being with Kane was starting to get serious. He invites you out to a kickback, wanting you to meet his crew. You didn’t come from his world and didn’t know all of the rules. It made you nervous. You hid out in his office while you contemplated ending the relationship. Kane has to convince you to stay.

AO3 Link

Word Count: 3,561k

A/N: Forgive me! I didn't know yall. I didn't know it'd been so long since a Kane fic. I'm sorry I've taken forever to get to this request. I hope it serves! Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, reblog, or unhinged ask.

Taglist: @planetblaque @browngirldominion @dayjlovesromance @flydotty @eggnox @blackerthings @hopelessdisasterr @sevikasblackgf @wide-nose-and-wonderful @monaeesstuff @notapradagurl7 @lovedlover @darkskinchristiandiorpostergirl @slippinninque @henneseyhoe @amyhennessyhouse @miyuhpapayuh @theyscreamsannii @luvvforanimatedmen @amethyst09 @ciaqui @we-outsiiiide @iv0rysoap @thecookiebratz @harmshake @00aijia00 @judymfmoody @multiversefanfics @tvchi

You were hiding. You knew you were hiding but your nerves were tearing up your stomach. Quick, painful twists that made you want to lean over or lay on the floor in the fetal position. But Kane’s warehouse was…rugged to say the least. You wouldn’t trust the floor considering what Kane did for a living.

You were not shocked. These days, Black men came in a limited variety of flavors. Growing up as you did, you did not see yourself with a banker or investor. Kane was beyond good to you and a top boss. He wasn’t running the streets anymore. He didn’t have to. 

However, that didn’t mean that it didn’t make you nervous as hell. He lived a dangerous life. It was a fact of life at this point. You had strength for days, able to somehow push it from your mind. Kane was invincible in your eyes. He had to be. You couldn’t live in a world where he didn’t exist. 

Your sweaty hands began to itch. You rubbed it on your jeans and tried to still your jumping leg. Sounds filtered in from the main part of the warehouse. The place was rapidly filling up with his top lieutenants and their significant others, women who chased the gangsters, and the women they brought along for support. 

Large crowds made you nervous. You couldn’t speak right. Couldn’t pluck words in a coherent order. You missed cues for jokes or your heart thumped too loud for you to hear what anyone was saying. You were terrible at first impressions. 

People assumed you were mean or stuck up. When in reality, you were shy to the point of being embarrassing. You didn’t speak first or follow up with people because god, why was it so hard? You felt like you were bothering people at best, being a nuisance at worst. 

And somehow, this kickback felt worse. These were Kane’s top people. The guys willing to follow him to the grave. That type of loyalty meant something. Kane was not like these young dudes, running around playing with guns or drugs or spitting in the face of those who came before them. No one had respect anymore. 

These people were the inner circle. These were the people you needed to impress. You were very much in your head, wheezing at the prospect of not standing up under their scrutiny. What if they decided that Kane was whole ass tripping by being with you?

You hated being shy most times. Hated that people couldn’t see you and know that there someone amazing underneath the shyness. That once you got comfortable, you were practically the life of the party. The problem was, it took you too long to feel comfortable and people lost their patience too quickly. 

A door opened and you jumped up from your seat at Kane’s desk. It was the farthest, safest place you could manage around the warehouse. Everyone too afraid to enter. You looked over the railing to see Kane searching the floor. 

He looked so good. Thick in all the right places. His shoulders were wide and broad and he had a slow gait that never failed to drive you wild. You noticed everything about him. Everything. Down to the twitch of his eye when he was truly upset. 

Kane’s eyes swept up and you gave him a small wave. He scrunched his face in confusion and then started making his way over to you. He climbed the stairs, eyes softening as he reached you.

“Why you got me looking everywhere for you?” He asked. He kissed your cheek but pulled back too quickly, denying you the pleasure of rubbing your cheek against his stubble. 

“I’m sorry. I needed…air,” you said. Kane gave you a funny look and you giggled. “Like, space to breathe.” 

Kane nodded and leaned against his desk. You sat back down in his chair, getting more comfortable. He’s brought you to his place a few times so you felt comfortable mixing amongst his things without feeling like he would be upset with you. You usually hung out in his office while he handled business outside, in the main warehouse. 

“I’d very much like to show you off, beautiful,” he said. He caressed your chin and made you look up at him. Your eyes drifted over his features. His dark brown eyes, his pouty lips, and his wide nose. “I want everyone to get to know you.”

You nodded and swallowed around the lump in your throat. “What if they don’t like me?” You asked, your voice sounding small even to you. 

Kane scooted closer on the desk, so that your chin was nearly laying against his stomach. You blinked at him while he looked into your eyes, tone as serious as you’d ever heard him.

“What’s not to like, mama?” He asked. 

A flush of heat ran through you at his little pet name for you. But on topic. You smiled, not sure what to say. He already didn’t like you putting yourself down. But how could you make him see? Make him realize? That you just weren't like other people. That other’s opinions shouldn’t matter but they do. They always have.

“Talk to me,” he demanded. 

You huffed. “There’s plenty of things to like. But you’re…important,” you said.

Kane reared up as if he was getting ready to stand up and punch the wall. You placed your hands on his arms to keep him still, keep him sitting next to you. He smelled amazing. Like soap and sandalwood. His adorable mouth twitched.

“I’m not saying I’m not important. I’m saying that these guys look up to you. They respect you and follow you. And…” God, this shouldn’t be so hard to say. But it was pressing against your throat, a live thing, waiting to be said. 

“What if you should be with someone a little more like them? A little more like you?” You asked. 

Kane needed someone strong enough to stand in a crowd and not flinch. Someone who put others at ease and made them laugh. The kind of girl who didn’t take shit and the kind of girl who people didn’t confuse soft for weak. The kind that could help grow his gang, grow his empire, get them to look forward to something outside of slanging dope and getting bitches. 

Kane sighed. “I don’t want someone like me. I want you,” he said.

He would get tired, one day, of constantly trying to reassure you. Your shyness was your business. It wasn’t on him to make you feel better all the damn time. That was exhausting. But what was also exhausting, was waiting for the other shoe to drop. Waiting for Kane to wise up and quit while he was ahead. 

You were looking down at your palms trying to find the words to make him see. Make him see that it only took a few months for you to be head over heels in love with him. With the safety he offered. The lifestyle. The loyalty. Kane wasn’t perfect, but he was perfect for you. You needed the words to make him see that you would love to be with him for the rest of your life. But, he needed someone equally capable of taking care of him and you were big enough to admit that and give him an out.

Kane moved too quick for you to see, too quick for you to defend yourself as he lifted you from the seat and switched places with you. You leaned against the desk now, caged in by Kane’s arms on either side of the desk, on either side of you. 

He brought his face close to yours, his lips brushing against yours as he spoke, his eyes to your eyes. “Tell me the words I need to say to make you see that it’s you and me against all this bullshit. Tell me what I need to say, what I need to do, who I need to kill to make you see, mama?” He asked. 

You shook your head. “Kane, that’s not–” 

“You are the only person I want. The only person I would ever want. You don’t have to worry about these niggas not liking you. I like you. That’s all they need to see. I don’t expect you to suddenly pick up a gun and be a down bitch.”

You giggled. You played with the hem of his shirt, kicking your legs a little bit. He didn’t need to reassure you but damn if it didn’t feel really good when he did. You smiled. “I don’t expect that either. I…you’re their leader. And they need a strong old lady too.” 

Kane chuckled. “You don’t think you’re strong? You almost dropped kick my ass when we met,” he said. His voice never sounded so sexy than when he was teasing or joking with you. You realized what a treat it was to hear him like this. To see the secret softie underneath all that hard living. 

“I had been drinking and you spilled the drink I just paid for,” you said, giving him a playful huff. 

Kane kissed your cheek once, twice, and then nuzzled his stubble against your cheek, just how you liked it. Your core burned so you shifted on the desk, to relieve some of the tension. 

“You called me everything under the sun you could think of. You get a potty mouth when you’re drunk,” he said. He licked your neck and your moan was too quick to be coy. You couldn’t pretend to be anything other than completely obsessed with this man. With his strength, with his playfulness, or with his jokes and smiles. 

You rolled your eyes and smiled. “That’s not true,” you said. Drinking just made you feel more like who you really were. Alcohol ensured that you didn’t care about doing the “right” thing all the time. You just lived. Outside of that, you were too conscious. Too aware. Too worried about someone making fun of you because people were fucking cruel. 

“Mhm, your girls tried to tell you ‘bout me but you just kept going. I’d never seen someone so beautiful,” he said. He reached the sensitive spot under your ear, against your neck, where he lightly nipped. You shivered, bringing your hands up and around his neck to keep him close. If he kept doing things like this, he’d make it impossible to let him go. 

“Kane,” you said, but it came out too breathless. 

Kane kissed his way back to your mouth where he spent ample time kissing you and licking your lips. “Tell me what I need to do, then. Please. I want you here, with me.” 

You sighed into his mouth, letting his lips do the talking for him. He didn’t get it. Wouldn’t ever get it. So while you kissed him, while your mind was supposed to be on him, you had an important decision to make. Walk away now or keep going and learn to live with this anvil over your neck. 

You broke the kiss and looked into his eyes. Into his beautiful, wonderful eyes. The wave cop on his head. The teardrop tattoo. You wanted him. So badly that the brief thought about giving him an out was a distant memory. 

“I want to be here, Kane. With you. But are you sure? Like really sure that it’s me you want?” You asked. A sick part of you was waiting for him to say it. Waiting for him to change his mind about all of the questions you asked him, all of the reassurances you needed, all of the times you ducked out of doing something if it involved large crowds or places where the only person you knew was Kane. You didn’t want to hang onto him like a spider monkey, but he was the only safe person you knew while you were out.

Kane smirked. He kissed you again, letting his lips ghost over yours. He brought his hands up to cradle your face. “I’ll tell you every day that it’s you that I want. That you’re the only one for me. Think I wanna run behind these niggas at the end of the day?” He kissed down your neck, leaving you breathless in a matter of seconds. 

You shook your head. “No. You need a place to lay yo head, cut out the bullshit,” you said. 

“And that place is right here, with you,” he said. He brought his hands up to palm your breasts over your shirt. He found exactly where your nipples were, running his thumbs back and forth over them and driving you wild. Your pussy throbbed, getting unbearably wet. 

“Kane,” you moaned, dragging your hands across his back. You needed to feel his skin. Feel him. You searched under his shirt to find the heat of his body. Your nails scratched his back and he moaned against your skin. He moved his hands from your face, down to your jeans. He began to unbutton them, dragging the zipper down. It sounded so loud in between you both.

“Here? Now?” You asked. 

“Here. Now.” Kane kissed you again, while his hands slipped past your panties and found you wet. He moaned, his finger easily sliding between your folds. He zeroed in on your clit, gathering up your essence to rub until you were a quivering mess.

Your hands clutched at his shoulders, holding on for dear life. Kane continued to kiss your neck, moving up to your ear. “You so fuckin’ sexy when you moaning, mama. You’re quiet, until you get like this. Shaking. Hmmm. Holding onto my hand between these legs like you don’t wanna let me go.” 

With his filthy words, you closed your thighs because he was only speaking the truth. You did not want to let him go. You wanted him closer. 

Your whines turned desperate, getting close to the edge if only he would let you fall. He pulled his hand back, moving down to your entrance and pushed one finger inside. You gasped for air, but you also began to cry, scooting your ass against the desk to get his fingers back to where you needed him. 

“Aww, you need something else, mama?” He asked. You nodded. 

“Talk to me, then. Tell me what you need from me,” he said.

“Kane, please,” you moaned. You were close. A few more moments of rubbing your clit and you would have came. 

“That don’t sound like what I want to hear,” he said. He moved his finger in and out of you, slowly. In a moment, your impending orgasm would go away. You were too greedy, too desperate to allow that to happen. 

“Kane, god, please!” You moaned. 

Kane licked your neck and you dropped your head back, giving him better access. He took the opportunity to nibble against your skin. Your teeth sank into your bottom lip, biting hard enough to ache, and you shook your head. 

“I need you to rub my clit, Kane. Please. Please. I’ll do anything,” you said. You were weak for your man and you weren’t too proud to show it. You didn’t have the patience to draw this out like him. To play coy or confident or like you were that bitch. You just wanted him, plain and simple. 

“Anything? You gon’ cum on this dick and then come hang with my friends?” He asked.

You nodded, your neck aching since you still had it tilted back. “Yes, baby, I’ll cum on that dick,” you said. 

“And?” He asked, his hand stilling inside you.

You giggled. “I’ll come hang with your friends,” you said.

Kane grunted in satisfaction and then resumed fingering you. While his fingers were pumping into you, his thumb circled your clit. Your pleasure tingled through your veins, turning you to jelly. You clutched him to you, holding onto him and squeezing your thighs while you rode his fingers straight to an orgasm. 

You moaned and shook, twitching on Kane’s desk. The music was still thumping outside the door, the sound of Black folk having a good time rising like a tide. That’s what you loved about Kane. He made it seem like you were always in your own little bubble whenever you were together. 

“There’s my girl,” he moaned against your sweaty skin. 

He helped push your jeans further down your legs. You yelped from the cold of his desk hitting your ass. Kane made quick work of his own pants, pushing it down low enough to free his dick. 

You held him, held the velvety steel in your hand and tugged on his dick. Kane groaned, taking his dick out of your hands. You pouted and he winked at you. “Save that for later when I let you play with it,” he said.

You grinned as he lined himself up and pushed in without any fanfare. You growled, loving the sweet burn of his dick stretching you out. “Oh baby, feel so good baby,” you moaned. Kane nudged your face with his, catching your eyes with his. He stared into your eyes while you took him in, legs trapped by the fabric of your jeans.

He groaned, stroking into you. You clutched onto the back of his neck, holding him in place. “You think I’ma let you go and you do shit like this? You need me, huh?” He asked.

You nodded. “Yes, I need you, baby. You hit this shit so good,” you cooed to him. Your words made him jerk and he chuckled before finding his rhythm again. 

Kane’s strokes were exactly what you needed. You forgot about the party outside. You forgot about meeting his friends. You forgot your own name as he growled while he hit a spot that made you cry out. 

“I can’t let you go when you sound like this. When you feel like this. Taking this dick like you do,” he moaned in your ear. 

“Kane, oh god,” you moaned. 

“Beautiful. You’re so beautiful,” he moaned. He lifted one of your legs, sliding deeper and you growled in return, moving your hips in time with his thrusts. Kane kissed you while his thumb circled your clit again.

Your mouth dropped into a pretty little ‘O’ as your hands clutched his shirt in a death grip. Your orgasm was swift, brutal, punishing, as your eyes rolled back in your head and you screamed in his ear. 

Kane’s strokes increased, getting faster. You were still sensitive from your orgasm so you were crying, shaking, whimpering on his dick. A few pumps later, Kane found his own pleasure, grunting with deep relief as he spilled over and over inside of you. His dick twitched with each pulse of cum. He grunted once more, pulling out when he was softened enough. 

You felt his cum leak out and you shivered. Kane kissed you while he grabbed some tissue and cleaned the both of you up. 

“Why do you have tissue here?” You asked.

“I can’t sneeze sometimes?” He asked. You giggled. He was such a goof. You each got yourself together, kissing in between smoothing down your wrinkled clothing. Oh god. There was no way of walking out of here without everyone knowing exactly what you did. 

Although…a deep fucking was effective against your anxiety. His cum was inside of you and while that didn’t mean much to guys, it felt like he had claimed you in a beautiful, primal way. No one would know, but you would. You’d walk around his party knowing that he came looking for you. He reassured you. He pumped you full and let you cum twice now with promises of more later. 

Kane zipped up his pants and gave you a kiss. “Sometimes a nigga needs to rub one out while he’s missing his best girl,” he said against your cheek. 

You bit your lip, flustered and unable to form a thought. A sentence. A word. Something. Oh, this….this you did not know. You didn’t know that he masterbated here, at his office, to thoughts of you. It brought up so many ideas for later…

“Come on, a promise is a promise,” he said. He grabbed your hand, pulling you down the stairs. At the door, you stopped him. He lifted an eyebrow at you.

You leaned up and gave him one last, scorching, heated kiss before you looked at him. “Guess now would be a bad time to tell you that I stroke my pussy almost daily thinking of all the nasty things I want you to do to me,” you said.

Kane’s mouth dropped as you opened the door. A promise was a promise after all. The wall of music and laughter hit you square in the face. You were still nervous and you weren’t sure that they would accept you, but for now it didn’t matter.

The sound of Kane’s laughter was everything to you. “I’ma get you back for that,” he promised in your ear before leading you around the party, introducing you to his top guys. You managed to bump fists, laugh, and meet his world with open arms.

Did you know where your life would take you? No. But you had a feeling that you’d be okay in Kane’s capable hands.

The end.

There's more of Kane to love! The Secret Kane Files

[seokgyuu]

HI I LOVE UR WORK GENUINELY I WAS WONDERING IF U COULD DO A DRABBLE BASED ON THIS REEL, I DONT KNOW IF U CAN SEE IT LIKE THIS BUT JYK NOTHING NSFW IS SHOWN IN TH REEL ITS JUST THE PREVIEW(?) sort of idk how to explain it. It goes like the guy holds a really powerful massager in his palm and puts his index finger in a glass of water which shows the power of the massager, so I was thinking this scenario with any member of seventeen u like. JUST SO U KNOW U DONT HAVE TO DO THIS ITS COMPLETELY UP TO U AND AGAIN I REALLY REALLY APPRECIATE UR WORK AND U

https://www.instagram.com/reel/Cwc6bhup_ut/?igshid=MzRlODBiNWFlZA==

uhm hello. this has been sitting in my inbox for a while but I just saw this again and was like... yes! I'll write that. so, here you go!! i hope it's to your liking!!! and of thank you for your kind words!!<3

The Reel this is inspired by (kinda sfw??)

Pairing: Wonwoo x Afab!Reader

Smut Warnings: Fingering, usage of a massage gun as a helpful tool, multiple orgasms, squirting

MDNI!

Word Count: 555

Wonwoo is just a man. He is a man and he has ideas and sometimes this leads to things like these.

Things that have you crying actual tears as he holds the massage gun against his finger, the vibrations going straight to your abused clit. It’s too much and at the same time not enough. 

Your legs are shaking and your loud moans are filling the room because, how on earth did he even come up with this?! 

“Fuck, look at you,” Wonwoo’s eyes are glued to you behind his glasses, mouth dropped as he literally can’t stop staring at you and your fucked out form. You’ve cum already, twice! And he isn’t letting you go, he isn’t letting you breathe! And to make matters worse, he suddenly moves his hand and slides two fingers inside of you, the massage gun still right there, making his whole hand vibrate on the highest fucking setting.

‘That’s it’, you think, ‘this is how I die.’

You don’t die though - you just start crying harder, your pussy literally sucking in Wonwoo’s fingers like a starved man downs his water. 

“Shit, how good does this feel, baby?” He asks and you would have loved to answer him - if only your mouth would do anything else but moan and scream and just not form any coherent thought. Your brain is mush if it’s even still there in your head and not already gone. 

You feel yet another orgasm approach at rapid speed, Wonwoo’s long skilled fingers paired with the vibrations too much to handle inside of you. You screech and squirm, your hips are moving against his fingers and Wonwoo is practically drooling as he watches you, his ever so perfect girlfriend, lose all sense of control.

And then, you cum. But you don’t just cum, your body shakes and your crying intensifies because what the fuck is that feeling and why is everything suddenly so incredibly sensitive and - did you just pee?

Wonwoo’s cock has never been harder and never been closer to cumming untouched. You’re squirting all over his hands and over the gun and over the bed and he thinks this is heaven. The sounds you make are only the god damn cherry on top. 

“E-enough, f-fuck, Wonwoo, please!” You beg your boyfriend and he somehow hears you and comprehends your words even though he doesn’t really know how. He pulls his fingers out of you, his fingers that are full of your cum and he turns off the gun, throws it to the side and brings his hand covered in everything you to his hard cock that is still hidden behind his sweats and starts jerking himself off, the feeling of your juices around him enough to make him cum three strokes later. 

“I don’t think I can walk,” you say when you finally catch your breath. You haven’t even noticed Wonwoo getting himself off, too busy with trying to find your senses again. Wonwoo falls onto the bed next to you, hand now covered in both of your releases.

“I didn’t know you could do that.” He says. “I didn’t know I could do that.” You reply back. Then, the two of you fall into comfortable laughter, staring up at the ceiling and knowing full well this definitely was not the last time this happened.

[forgedroyalseal]

Life a bit the the left

Chapter 1

TW: abuse, alcoholism, ptsd

The sound of a shattering plate drew a heavy sigh from Will. He sat back from the broken door hinge he had spent all evening trying to repair.

“Dad?” He called, hoping that the plate had just slipped. That his father was coherent enough to take care of it himself. The silence suggested otherwise. Will stood and made his way quickly to the kitchen where clay shards covered the floor in a half moon around his father.

“Dad, are you ok? Are you hurt?” Will approach him slowly, voice soft. His father just groaned, which, for a typical person, would normally indicate an injury, but for his father could mean anything. There were times when Daniel would be nonverbal for weeks on end, and other times he’d rant and ramble endlessly. Will scanned his father for signs of blood. There was a small gash that ran the length of his thumb.

“You have a cut on your hand dad. I’m going to wrap it with my handkerchief, ok? It might hurt a little but I need to stop the bleeding.” Will had gotten into the habit of narrating his actions after spooking his dad and being slammed into the floor one too many times. For a man who didn’t do much beyond drink and sit in his armchair, Daniel Blackwood was still as strong as ever. Will was praying for the day he’d finally hit his long awaited growth spurt and be able to handle his dad‘s outbursts without ending up black and blue.

Once Daniel’s hand was taken care of, Will guided him to the armchair and tended to the fire, before returning to the kitchen to sweep up the fragmented plate. He wasn’t sure how the plate ended up on the floor. His father never ate without being prompted, and it had been years since Will had allowed alcohol into the house. There wasn’t a reason for Daniel to be in the kitchen, but then again, there was never a reason for the things he did. Or at least, never a reason Will understood. Will considered preparing something for dinner since he was already in the kitchen, but the ache in his stomach was too mild for him to justify wasting the little food they had. Tomorrow, the ache would be a roar and he’d have no other choice. Tonight he’d be ok.

Later that evening as he laid awake in bed, he heard the latch on the front door click and he pulled his worn blanket tighter. He hated this. Hated that he was laying here and was just letting his father leave. Letting him make his way to the tavern. Letting him drown himself in drink. Letting him stumble home at dawn by himself. Will knew that a better son would stop him. Or follow him. But Will wasn’t a good son, he was a selfish one. So he let the door swing shut and he forced his eyes to close. He had to sleep. He had work in the morning and god knows he doesn’t get anywhere near enough food to give him the energy he’ll need to work in the fields from dawn until dusk.

His father was home by the time Will woke. The acidic stench of vomit warned him to watch his step when he opened his bedroom door. He stepped over his unconscious body that laid across the hall. Beside him, a pool of watery vomit. Will debated what’re or not he should drag his father into his bed, but a bitter voice in his chest told him to leave him. The voice had been getting louder and louder recently, only being drowned out by the voice in his head telling him what an awful son he was. They were at a constant war with each other, his head and his heart. His heart won this morning, as he left his father on the floor next to his vomit. Will knew he’d have to clean the floor later. It would never occur to his father to do it himself. He probably wouldn’t even realize it was there. Will should just clean it now, if he leaves it the stench will linger and the acid will stain the wood. But Will was tired and hungry and already done with the day. All he wanted to do was slip back under his blanket and shut the door on the world forever. But he couldn’t. Because he was already late and if he lost another job, he wasn’t sure he’d have the energy to find another one. So the vomit would have to wait.

///

“Blackwood! Drop the shovel and get up here.” The steward barked as he approached Will, flanked by two knights. Will clambered out of the trench he had been working in.

“Sir.” Will hunched down slightly. The steward had no entitlement to a bow, but that didn’t mean he didn’t feel he was owed one from the likes of Will.

“These men were looking for you. I thought it best to bring them to you myself.” He didn’t even attempt to hide his smirk. The steward had had it in for Will since he took over for Matthew, the previous steward, two weeks ago.

“Will Blackwood?” The knight on the right asked.

“Yes. What can I do for you Sir?”

The other knight took hold of Will’s arm. “You’re to come with us.”

If Will was hoping for an explanation, it was clear none of these men thought he was owed one. And he wasn’t. They outranked him, as did nearly everyone in Redmont.

The moment the knights turned their, and in doing so Will’s, backs to the steward, the man called out, “Don’t bother coming back Blackwood. I won’t have a trouble maker under my watch.”

Will twisted in the knight’s grasp. “No please! I didn’t do anything. I need this job. Please sir, please don’t do this, I didn’t do anything.” Will’s words caught and cracked in his throat. He knew he sounded pathetic but he didn’t care.

“Enough boy.” The steward rose his hand and Will flinched back.

Will sagged, the knights on either side of him now holding him up. The steward would never recant his decision. “You owe me my wages for this morning’s work.” He muttered.

This time the raised hand wasn’t just a threat. The slap stung across Will’s cheek and he bit his tongue to stop himself from crying out.

“Consider it my payment for having to put up with you.” Glancing at the knights he said, “Please remove this boy from the property.”

The walk to Castle Redmont was long. Will’s hands were bound and tethered to one of the knight’s horses. He was dragged along by his new found leash like a dog. Nobody paid any mind to him though. Few villagers even knew his name, and the ones that did didn’t concern themselves with his general well-being.

///

Whatever Will had been expecting, it certainly wasn’t to be brought right through the heavy wood and iron doors of Redmont and delivered to the grand hall. The Baron sat on a chair that was embellished and upholstered with red and gold. It had never occurred to Will that a chair could be beautiful, he was lucky if his chair had even legs, but that’s what this chair was. A beautiful chair in a beautiful room. Will was suddenly embarrassed of his appearance. His poorly patched, threadbare clothes and his dirt covered hands and his general dirtiness. He felt as though he was tainting the grand hall by simply standing in it.

There was a man in common clothes who stood in front of the Baron. They seemed to be discussing something, but from the other side of the hall, Will couldn’t make out their words. Baron Arlad glanced up and noticed Will standing with the knights.

“Ah, you’re here. Please come in.”

Will obeyed the Baron’s beckon, not eager to give the knights another opportunity to drag him around. The closer he got, the clearer it became who the other man was. Barrow. Will’s stomach dropped. There wasn’t a single positive reason that Will and the tavern owner would be in a room together, much less a room this grand and official.

“Young Mr.Blackwood, thank you for joining us.” The Baron smiles at Will as if he hadn’t just been dragged through the town.

“Of course. Is there something I can do for you?”

The Baron’s smile dropped, as if he had just remembered why Will was here. “Ah yes. Well, Mr.Barrow here,” Arald gestured to the other man, “has brought some… concerns to my attention.”

“Concerns about me?” Will frowned. As far as he can recall, he’s never actually met Mr.Barrow.

“Your father, more like it. But the word on the street is that you're the one who manages your family’s affairs.” Barrow’s voice is heavy and coarse. It’s not a voice Will is particularly excited to be on the receiving end of. But Will is grateful that he has the grace to call him and his father a “family”.

Taking back control of the meeting, the Baron continues, “Your father has built but quite the tab at Mr.Barrow’s tavern. A tab that he is looking to have paid. And if you are unable to, I’ll have no choice but to have your father arrested.”

Will's heart dropped to his empty stomachs “Please my lord, I just need a bit of time. I’ll get him the money I swear. Grant me a little time and I’ll get Mr.Barrow what’s due to him.”

“And during that time, your father’s tab will triple.” Barrow turned wearily to Arald. “Baron Arald, the boy is not the one at fault. I’ve no issue with him. His father on the other hand is drinking my tavern dry. I’ve got a family of my own to feed. Promises of eventually won’t fill my children’s bellies.”

Will briefly wondered if Barrow even knew what hunger was. If he knew how it froze your core like an icy winter night. How the pain made you double over. How you knew it was bad when you didn’t feel it anymore. How the hunger would project haunting phantoms on the ceiling before black spots filled your vision.

The Baron’s deep voice pulls Will’s mind out of his stomach and back to the present. “I can appreciate that, Mr. Barrow. I have to say, I am a bit perplexed as to why young Will is here in his father’s stead.”

“My father is unwell.” The words rushed out of Will as they always did. He was quick to defend his father, to distract people from the reality of their situation.

“He’s well enough to stumble up to my bar every night.”

Will shot a glare at Barrows but quickly returned his attention to the Baron. Arguing with Barrow directly would get him nowhere, the Baron was the one who would decide his fate now.

“Please my lord. I just need a little time.” A pathetic whine escaped with the words. Will wondered if the men in the room were judging him for begging. He wondered what it would be like to be the kind of man who could afford to care about that kind of thing. To be able to be prideful. But Will was born desperate and there wasn’t a thing he could do about it. Pretending otherwise would only leave him on the streets, hungry and cold and dying. And then where would his pride be?

“Will, I’m sorry but-“

“Please.” It tore out of his chest.

The Baron’s face softened. “Mr. Barrow, how much did you say Daniel Blackwood owes again?”

“Two silver.” Will had never seen two silver in his life.

“And without breaking any laws, how long would it realistically take you to come up with that amount?”

“A couple months.” Will hoped his lie wasn’t as glaringly obvious as he felt it was. Even if he hadn’t just lost their solo source of income, it would take years for Will to earn that kind of money.

“I see. Well, that won’t do, will it Mr. Barrow?”

“Definitely not.” Mr. Barrow confirmed. Will noted that he had least had the decency to not sound smug about it.

“Sir-“

Baron Arald leveled Will with a look he recognized well. A look of, not another word. He shut his jaw with an audible snap. He’d done what he could. Now there was nothing left to do but face the music.

“Martin,” the Baron gestured his assistant over. “Please settle Daniel Blackwood’s debt with Mr. Barrow and escort him out.”

Will watched with mouth gaping as the Baron’s attendant guided Barrow towards the exit. Before the doors shut, Will catches a glimpse of silver being exchanged between the two men.

Taking a deep breath, Will turns his gaze back to Baron Arlad. “I wish I could say that we don’t need charity. I wish I could refuse. But I’m not a fool. So I can only thank you. And you will be repaid. I promise. I’ll work just as hard to pay back my debt to you as I would my debt to Barrow. Harder, in fact!” His words tripped over themselves in a rush to be heard.

“Will, if I may,” Baron Arald said gently, “how unwell is your father?”

Will swallowed. “He fought in the war. He was brave. He, he saved people’s lives.”

“I don’t doubt that your father is an honorable man. But if you need help, if he needs help then perhaps-“

“I won’t send him away! He just needs me. I can take care of him. I have been for as long as I can remember.”

“How old are you Will?”

Will’s back straightened like it always did when he was asked that question, not that it did much for his height. “Fifteen my lord.”

“Fifteen.” Baron Arald repeated to himself. “That’s a lot of responsibility for a fifteen year old.”

“It’s nothing I can’t handle. Like I said, I’ve been doing this for a long time.”

“And that’s very commendable. But how do you plan on continuing to support both of you?”

“I’m a hard worker. People hire me to help them fix things, help in their fields, things of the sort.”

“You can’t live on odd jobs forever.”

Will frowned. The Baron had seemed like a kind man. But he didn’t understand why he was harping on about their lifestyle. It wasn’t like Will could do much about the circumstances in which he was born. “Sir, I really appreciate you paying off my debt, and I will pay you back. With interest! But, I really should be going. I don’t like to leave my father alone.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. He didn’t like to leave his father unaccompanied. But that didn’t mean he didn’t do it.

Baron Arald stood and approached Will, who had to force himself not to take a step back away from the large man. “I host several wards here. Children who were orphaned. Tomorrow is their Choosing Day. All the craft masters with an opening for an apprentice will meet with them. I’d like to extend the invitation to you.”

“Why?”

“Because I think that if life had moved a bit to the left, you’d be there anyway.”

“I don’t think I understand my lord.”

Arald sighed, “Just, be here tomorrow at eight. Please.”

And who was Will to refuse a Baron anything. “Alright my lord. I’ll be there.”

[lewkwoodnco]

Hii I wanted to request Anthony Lockwood×fem!reader with the song London Boy. Where the reader is from Europe, and she just moved to London to become a better ghost hunter, but she gets rejected at Fittes and other agencies. Then she finds out about Lockwood&Co. and goes to a job interview and gets hired. Since she's from Europe, she has an accent, and like she doesn't always pronounce words right, Lockwood loves it and finds it adorable. As she lives with all of them, they start becoming closer. She and Lucy become like best friends. And from the whole start, when she met Anthony, she was crushing on him and he would often call her darling and love, because for him it's normal, but she would literally be running laps in her head. Lucy notices all of this and teases them about it. Happy ending with them confessing and kissing? As always, you can change it so it suits the song more, I really love your writing, and it never disappoints!!

Lockwood x Reader - London Boy

A/N: While I was researching possible words to mispronounce whyy did I find out that I was pronouncing one of them wrong this wholeee time AHHH also why was it so hard to find a gif where he's smiling. Netflix pls renew the series to give him more screentime where he doesn't look like he wants to dies plzzz. also this starts with a letter written by the reader to her sister a week after moving to London, 3.1k, enjoy!!

Dear Elizabeth,

I hope things are fine over there. London is...interesting. It's very cold and wet, for one. I always feel like I'm one gust of wind away from catching a cold, but a friend took me shopping a few days back, and I've got a much warmer coat now. You'd love Lucy, she's got your sense of humour and everything.

Things didn't work out so well at Fittes. Or Rotwell. Or any of the other agencies I had shortlisted. I'm at a small independent, Lockwood & Co. There's only four of us and Mr. Lockwood's only a year older than me (a misnomer if I ever saw one, I thought he'd be closer to eighty than eighteen), but they get by just fine and I'm learning loads.

Part of me still wonders if I made the right choice by leaving. I wish I was home; warm, dry and safe. I miss the fields, the bonfires, the cheap juice boxes... miss you and mum to bits. Give her all my love.

"Writing a letter?"

She slammed a hand over her postcard with an aggressiveness that shocked her as much as him. She was sitting at the kitchen table, opting for a change of scenery while she drafter her note. It was morning, and from the shuffling sounds outside, George and Lucy seemed to also be awake, but only Lockwood was in the kitchen with her. And the thing about Lockwood was - well, he made her a little skittish.

She panicked at his slightly taken aback expression, rushing to make amends. "No! I mean, yes, I am writing a letter. It's for my sister, Elizabeth."

"I'm sorry I startled you, I don't mean to pry."

"You weren't." God, did she completely forget how to hold a normal conversation? It was mind-numbingly difficult to generate coherent words or even thoughts with his buttery smooth posh accent washing over her. "I just - we keep odd hours and with the time zone difference I haven't had the time to talk to them on the phone."

"I didn't know you had a sister."

She looked down into her tea, suddenly shy. Keeping eye contact with him was difficult enough when they were all in the room, but his undivided attention was simply unbearable. There was something so intentional in his gaze that made her too nervous to think too much about it. So that just left a knot in her chest that would throb and set her ablaze any time he got too close. That, coupled with their extremely embarrassing first meeting, made her especially prone to stuttering or leaving the room whenever Lockwood was around.

Ironically, he was away handling a mild Type One case in Sidcup, for which the prestigious clientele warranted the inconvenient travel, during her interview. Which was just as well, because she was sure she wouldn't have been able to force anything out with him watching her as closely as George had. She had seen the newspaper clippings on the wall, but the dates had been cut off, so it hadn't been immediately obvious to her that he was a teenager like the rest of them. Besides, who had heard of an agency run by three teenagers and no adults?

Which was why she nearly fell out of her armchair the following morning when the front door opened to the sound of unfamiliar yet boyish laughter. The briefcase carelessly left by the entry way to the living room caught her eye first, followed by his crisp suit, his straight tie, and finally, the man himself.

She wasn’t one to believe in love at first sight, but as he grinned with his dimples mischievously winking at her, she felt that if anyone could change her mind, it just might be him. She felt the palms resting on her book grow clammy as her heart thudded dangerously, And this was all before he had even spoken or looked at her. As soon he opened his mouth, she was a goner.

"You guys have to read this: 'Lockwood & Co. - the answer to the Problem? For an independent agency with less resources yet arguably more success than the big two, could they be the key to ridding our world of visitors? Read more on pa-' Page six? So much of that trouble, all for a page six?"

"Now look what you've done, Lockwood. You've scared our newest member mute with that demented laugh of yours."

"How could I forget? Y/N L/N, the one agent with enough talent to, and I quote, 'somewhat-kind-of satisfy' George Karim. I was positively racing home to meet you. Forgive my, hmm, associates. I hope they didn’t give you too rough of a time."

"You make it sound like we're degenerates!"

"They can be quite bothersome when they want to be. I'm Anthony Lockwood, of Lockwood & Co."

He stuck out a hand, and she blinked at him. She felt a bubble of nervous laughter lodged in her throat, almost half-inclined to believe that this was all a bit; he really was that ridiculously attractive. His dazzling smile faltered, morphing into one of concern, until Lucy knocked enough sense back into her to respond. She shook his hand, embarrassed, mumbling a greeting. He walked away, loosening his tie, and she buried her nose deeper into the paper, wishing it would just swallow her whole.

They had been terribly busy the past week, and during the day she would mostly tag along with Lucy, so their paths rarely crossed. There was this one time when he had just been coming down the stairs as she and Lucy were returning from their shopping trip. She froze halfway in the motion of taking her coat off, then shrugged it back on. He looked mildly confused. She was desperately confused. She didn't appreciate Lucy's snicker.

"New coat."

"Yeah. It's real warm."

"I can see that." Her coat looked not all that much bulkier than Lucy's, but she could still hear the smile in his voice as she pulled her gloves off. Somehow, she managed to coordinate her limbs enough to take the coat off and hang it like a normal person, before briskly walking up to the attic, the side of her face burning from when she passed Lockwood.

"It's real warm." Lucy wasted no time teasing her as soon as they were in the attic. She groaned.

"What else was I supposed to say?"

"You were really excited about the pockets at the shop."

"They're-"

"Faux fur-lined, yes, you've told me a thousand times." She gave a knowing half-smile. "Couldn't manage telling him once?"

"He'd think they were stupid. He'd think I was stupid." Even more stupid that he already thinks, she wanted to say. But who could blame him? For all he knew, she didn't have enough brain cells to string three coherent words together.

Their cases were tiring, but the routine was still so new that more often than not, she would be too wired to peacefully knock out in the attic with Lucy after their cases. She'd open the door to the attic just a crack, and listen to the soothing sounds of paperwork rustling in the library, watching the barely visible soft shadows of Lockwood moving about. She could glean that they were a little burdened by the absence of a pair of hands, and she had tried to offer her help, but all she got was distracted pats on the forehead as her words went in one ear and out the other. She couldn't blame them; they really did look stretched thin, which made her especially thankful for Lucy's company even at their busiest.

Still, that didn't stop her from carrying her blankets down to the door to the attic in the dead of the night, leaning her head against the banister. If she were lucky, she'd catch a faint strain of Lockwood humming. As cheery and disarming as he was, picturing him humming felt too intimate. The little that she could hear reverberated through her skull, the notes knocking into her other drifting thoughts about him, his British smile and his stormy London eyes. But the Lockwood she curiously dreamt of at night never reconciled with the Lockwood she saw walking and talking during the day, and so their relationship had come to a sort of standstill, where he would smile at her and she would take the first socially-acceptable chance to flee the room. Only, it was a bit harder to escape early in the morning when they were the only ones in the kitchen.

Fortunately, the others soon came, and the tension eased. Lucy came in, sleepily trying to scrounge up some tea while George went off on Lockwood about his sleep schedule, or lack thereof, while Lockwood tried to stuff his face and busy himself in gathering his documents to keep from answering. She took advantage of the bustle to discreetly sift through the drawers. Lucy had mentioned that they had a postage drawer somewhere, but she didn't want to be too much of a burden by asking again.

"George, lay off me, I've got to get to DEPRAC. Luce and I will meet you at the Archives and - oh, darling, we keep the stamps here." Lockwood paused his hunt for some brown, non-descript envelope to pull open a drawer between the two of them. She could feel her face starting to warm, but only because of the embarrassment, not the nickname. "Mailman should be coming around soon, so you might want to hurry. Luce, yesterday's client should be coming around near 5 and you promised Holly you'd do the invoices while she was away. Oh, what now George?" She ducked her head, muttering some thanks that went unheard as George tried to force out how many hours Lockwood had slept, practically chasing him out of the house. Lucy raised her eyebrows suggestively, which she pointedly ignored.

That day was the most dull one yet, where she rolled around the house like a lost penny, trying to occupy herself. A letter arrived some time in the late morning, and she took the liberty of starting its case report file. Lockwood was the first one free, arriving home a little after lunch. She told him as soon as she saw him, while he was still taking his coat off, forcing the words out before she lost her nerve.

"We got a new case while you were gone. I started its file."

"Wonderful. Thanks, love." He rolled up his sleeves, putting on the kettle, while she surreptitiously leaned against the wall for support, trying not to think about how effortlessly pet names dripped off his tongue, like honey, before she got too shaky in the knees. She pressed on.

"It was from a Lew-tenant Smith."

"Who?"

"Lew-tenant Smi..." her voice trailed off. No, that didn't sound right. She couldn't imagine any of them saying it like that. Lockwood briefly leaned over her shoulder, a faint smell of soap lingering around him, before his eyebrows unfurrowed and he returned to his tea.

"Oh, I see. We pronounce it as 'left-tenant.' Now, where's he staying?"

Oh dear. She wasn't entirely sure. "Erm, Ald-wykh?"

"Ald-wich, we call it."

"Ah." Some part of her wanted to apologise, but he was looking at her with a strange twist to his lips and a certain fondness was shining in her eyes that, once again, she was rendered speechless. A silence followed, and for once, she willed herself to bear it.

"You haven't been stuck at home all day, have you? Have you been outside during the day any time this week?"

"I, er-"

"Luce, what kind of a friend are you?" Lockwood spun around to accost Lucy, who had wandered into the living room to see the commotion, bleary-eyed from whatever lair she had retired to to iron out the paperwork. "Y/N must be feeling cooped up. We should make a day trip of it. We'll get a break one of these days, and we'll take you around London, do all of it: high tea, the West End, go to a pub, watch some rugby- how are you with heights? Interested in the London Eye?"

Lucy groaned, stealing Lockwood's tea. "I don't know how Holly does it."

"Well, for one, I don't think she lets it pile up like you do."

Lucy shot Lockwood a dirty look, taking his biscuit too before turning back apologetically. "I'm sorry, Y/N, but how about next week?"

She laughed, pulling a weak smile from Lucy. "Don't sweat it. Hopefully, I'll still be around then." Lucy waved goodbye, retiring to her mountains of paperwork.

"Well, there goes my tea. Would you like some...?"

"Tea? Oh, um, sure."

"Brilliant. See you outside in five minutes." With that, he left the kitchen. Once she had caught up to what had just happened, she slipped her coat on, joining him outside just as he hailed a cab.

Surprisingly, he hadn't been exaggerating: Lockwood was fully prepared to take her to each and every one of those attractions, no matter how long it took. In the end, they narrowed it down to a rainy cab ride to a play at the West End, with high tea afterwards, though they did get around to the rest in the coming weeks. Oddly enough, they never planned it beforehand. The occasional lull in cases would sneak up on them, Lockwood would wander into the living room where she would be fused to an armchair, and suddenly it would be time for yet another trip around London.

But now they were at high tea, tucking in to the fading sunlight and excitedly discussing the play. A wind blew through one of the open windows, and she shivered.

"Everything okay, love?"

"I'm fine. It's just a little draughty, don't you think?"

"A little what?"

"Dra - erm, like, it's windy?"

"Drafty."

"Oh, come now, that sounds nothing like how it's spelt. How was I supposed to know that?" He chuckled, shaking his head slightly, as he polished off his food. But she was feeling bold enough to not let it drop this time.

"You keep doing that! You smile and turn away or you laugh and it makes me feel like I've put my foot in something - "

"No, no, dear god, no." There he was, laughing again. She hoped he would choke; but not too hard, just enough to shock some sense into him. "You don't - it's not your fault; believe me, I'm just an awful person. It's just...you really try your very best at...everything, really." His eyes fixed on hers and she found herself wanting to never look away. "It's...endearing."

"I’m sorry. I know my accent isn’t the clearest-"

“No, it’s fine. I like it. It’s very unique, and…beautiful. I’d pick your voice out of a crowd.” She felt this warmth wash over, and then chills run down her spine. He made her all nervous and giggly on the inside in a way that made her want to lounge around London, indulging herself in useless thoughts of ridiculous London boys with addictive smiles and silver tongues.

But like all good things, their excursion came to an end. She found herself dragging her feet to the front door with a boy with whom she was too scared to be alone with just 12 hours ago.

"I hope you had fun today. Not feeling too homesick, are you?"

She thought back to the green meadows and lightning bugs that she had dreamed about in the early hours of that morning. That life still seemed so precious, so sacred, but now it was oddly distant, no longer something she yearned for.

"I don't think so. You know what they say, 'home is where the heart is,'" she looked up at him, unable to resist the smile tugging at her lips, her voice dropping to a whisper. "But I think the English aren't half-bad either."

"Not half-bad?" They were so close now, she could feel his breath tickling her forehead. Her heart stuttered. "I took you out to the West End, and you call it 'not half-bad.'"

"Well, there are certain exceptions."

"Like what?"

Her stomach threatened to explode with giddiness. She was having a hard time regulating her breathing and looking at him at the same time. God, she was never beating the 'stupid' allegations. "I don't know," she fibbed in a flimsy attempt to seem cool. "Like...like you."

In the end, it was his eyes that pulled her in, pulled her under, because one moment she was teetering on the precipice of something new and terrifying, and the next there was soft skin brushing her frozen face, warm lips on her chapped ones. He tasted like summer in this cold, dead winter, breathing life and wonder back into her. It was dizzying, exhilarating, heart-palpitations-inducing...it was Lockwood, surrounding and consuming all her senses.

He pulled away, and all she stared at him blankly, as if he had stolen the words at the tip of her tongue. He gave a half-smile, and she grinned at him. He opened the door for her, murmuring in her ear in a way that filled her brain with pleasant static. "After you, darling." She rolled her eyes reflexively as a defense mechanism, but still her heart fluttered. They walked in to find George sorting the mail, mildly peeved, mildly concerned.

"Ah, so you two finally decide to show up. You could've been dead in a ditch for all we know. Your dinner's gone cold, you know."

Lucy had skipped down the stairs once the front door opened, a little too immediately for her liking and now her eyes narrowed teasingly. All of a sudden, she had the embarrassing realisation how visible the front porch was from the attic. There was colour in Lucy's cheeks, which probably meant that she had somehow managed to work through all that paperwork. Drat. "I dunno. I think Mr. and Mrs. 'Darling' are- "

"Luce! Have I...told you about my coat pockets?"

Lucy rolled her eyes, heading back to the attic, while George shook his head and handed her a postcard. Lockwood's fingers lingered briefly on her wrist as he walked away, leaving her and her mind all topsy-turvy. With a start, she pulled herself away from delicious thoughts of Lockwood to the postcard in her hand. She scanned it eagerly, lips twitching as she reached the end of it. Her sister could be just as ridiculous and delusional as her sometimes, and she wasn't even in the same country.

Y/N -

Can't say much, haven't got the time. All's well here and we miss you dearly too. The house is just too quiet, but mum seems to be adjusting. We saw a picture of your boss in the paper the other day.

London boys truly are a different breed, aren't they?

Love, Lizzie.

[tragedybunny]

Pretty Baby 2

༺Summary༻

Astarion is a brat on several occasions and is duly punished for it. In between, he and Mommy (Fina) deal with some emotional issues.

༺Pairing༻ Astarion x Tav

༺Warnings༻ NSFW - PiV Sex, Anal Play, Femdom, Mommy Kink, Feminization, Forced Orgasm, Chastity Cage, Porn with Feelings, Porn streaming, Pegging, Astarion being a brat

༺Word Count༻ 3783

༺A/N༻

So, it's chapter 2 of a fic I never planned to write. Lol. And somewhow now we've got plot and feelings involved. Hope you all enjoy, I had a lot of fun writing it. And huge thank you to the best of betas and friends, @icybluepenguin

The chat is populated by Tav's and other characters from my friends, they all helped makes this a delight.

Check out two similar fics if you dig mine. Decadent Torture and Careless Whisper

Read On AO3 Chapter 1

“Hush, a little more, then your punishment is over.” I let go of his cock, turn off the plug vibrating in his ass, and give him a short reprieve. 

Drawing gasping breaths, he looks up at me with pleading, tear filled eyes. God, his eyes are pretty; startling crimson, soft, and round. Normally, I cave when they're all watery like this. But not tonight - tonight is for lessons. 

I play with the little pink bow on his white thigh high stocking. Leaving him with only those, his white bra, and of course his collar, made him such a fetching picture for our little teaching session.

He'd spent most of the night on his knees in the naughty corner, those stockings peeking out of his pleated white skirt, a little pink cashmere sweater completing his look. I'd posted a few pictures that had his audience nice and worked up.

Demi_g0ddess: oh looks like Little Star was very bad today can’t wait to see what Mommy does to the little brat Bookworm420: didn’t realize Mommy was a thicc queen this might be too much for my ovaries

The chat had been crowded when we set up for the stream. Before the camera went on, I told him what to take off and how to prep, but not what I was planning. 

We went live and I made him give a little introduction. 

“I've had a very bad attitude lately and Mommy wants to make sure I'm thoroughly punished, so she's letting you all watch.” Every word was said petulantly as he leaned into playing the brat. 

Ari147: wonder what he did… Drag-onme: who cares, as long we get to watch the aftermath BardlockLongdick: is that a leather couch animal cruelty is not sexy.

“Go on,” I prompted, gesturing for him to get ready. 

The clothes he stripped were folded and set to the side, the chat cheering him on. When he kneeled down, I handed him a vibrating plug that made his eyes go wide. 

“Mommy, please…” he pleaded, but obediently went to work prepping and inserting it, cheeks flushed a deep red. I let him position himself in my lap, head propped on the arm of the couch. Then I started typing, Astarion watching with dawning horror.  

Mommy: Little Star has been an absolute brat about wearing a chastity cage while I’m out of town, because he wouldn’t be able to touch himself. So, tonight, I’m making him come as many times as I think he can handle. 

Demonbbyy: poor little thing got himself into a lot of trouble  TestyZesty: Mommy is way too nice about it but I’m still going to watch.

And here we were- Astarion, covered in his own semen, whimpering in my arms. I drag my finger along his cock, and he sucks in a shuddering breath. One more and I think he’ll have learned his lesson. I push the button on the remote for the plug.

“Fuck,” he whines the word. 

Penguino: aww, Mommy, I think he’s had enough  TestyZesty: nah, he’s still coherent  keep going Demi_g0ddess: Zesty, we’re sharing a brain cell  DrowDaddy: this chat is very mean tonight

I put a generous coating of lube on my hand and begin to work his shaft again. He pants and moans, desperate sounds falling from his lips as he builds to another orgasm. 

The chat continues to go feral as he whines and cries. I'm gentle this last round, languidly rubbing, letting the plug do its work. “That's it, one more for me. You've been so good for your punishment.”

He squirms at the praise, tearfully whimpering, hips weakly bucking as I take him to climax again. My other hand turns up the intensity on the plug. 

“Pleeeease,” he cries, voice ragged.

Another spurt of cum and he goes limp. I turn off the plug and lean down to kiss his sweat soaked forehead, letting him recover for a moment. He's so pretty like this, spent and helpless in my lap.  “Now, are you ready to apologize for being such a little brat the past couple of days?” 

He doesn't hesitate. “I'm sorry, Mommy,” he whimpers, tears running down his face. 

“Good baby. Almost done.” 

He tenses. “But...”

“Shh. They get to see because of the attitude.” He makes a noise. “Don't turn this into a spanking session,” I warn and he gets quiet. 

I take a warm, moist towel I'd set up earlier and clean up his pretty cock. The chat is losing it. 

KneelForMeSweets: and we get to see the cage  can he act up every night 

It's a pretty pink little chastity cage, just perfect for him. I slide the ring on first, then put the tube over his cock before locking it down. He's so quiet, I can hear every breath and the sniffles he's still fighting. 

Once they get a good look, I shut down the stream. 

Mommy: I'm going to go get this little brat cleaned up. Hopefully, he's learned his lesson.

Bitchybambi: I hope not, I want to see what you do next  KneelForMeSweets: she can DM me for ideas.

I kill the video and give him a proper kiss as he clings to me, spent and shivering. “Come on, you. Bath time.”

Astarion is unusually quiet during our aftercare session, and when he's settled into bed in a pair of oversized pajamas, I pull him close, and he snuggles into my neck on instinct. 

“You know, if you think it's too much to wear it, you don't have to.” I run my fingers through his curls and cover his face in soft kisses. He's done stints in the cage before, but I'm starting to doubt myself on this one. It would kill me to ever hurt him for real. 

He doesn't move; if anything, he burrows deeper into the crook of my neck. “It's not, and I am sorry for being a pain. It's just…”

He makes a small, frustrated noise and I keep petting him. “Take your time.” 

For a few minutes, he just takes shaky breaths, and then he speaks. “It’s this whole going back to school thing. I'm nervous, and you're going to be gone for the next two days. And what if this is a dumb idea and I can't do it.”

“It's not a dumb idea, you really like fashion design, baby. And why do you think you can't do it?” 

“Remember the last time I was in school? I failed out.” 

“Astarion, you didn't want to be a lawyer and you hated law school. You only went because Caz-” I feel him tense in my arms, “because he made you.” 

“I know.” He sounds teary again. “But it doesn't mean I don't feel stupid.”

“Love, my pretty little wife, you are not stupid. You’re capable and creative. And you know I won’t have time on this stupid team building trip, otherwise I’d bring you with.” 

“Still going to miss you, though.” 

“I know, baby. I’ll be back before you know it.”

The next morning, Astarion drives me to the airport. I put the keys for his collar and the cage in my jewelry box in case of an emergency or if it’s too much for him. It's cold and rainy, and he’s adorable in oversize sweats with sleepy eyes. After he unloads my bag, I pull him in for a hug and feel it pressed against me. A wave of lust courses through me; I can’t wait to come back and have a nice little session with him. 

“Call me when you land, Fina.” 

I don’t know if he realizes how much I’ll miss him. Astarion and I have rarely been apart since we met in grad school. It's just as hard on me to get on that plane and be without him.

We get one quick call before I’m off to the first of many “activities” the firm planned. I can’t be too angry about it, they pay a ton, and it finances my trophy wife’s lifestyle. I tell Astarion I’ll call him after dinner and karaoke hour. 

The whole day isn't that tortuous, and most of my coworkers get into the spirit of things for karaoke. I still make my exit as soon as I can to get some time in with Astarion. 

To my surprise, I see he's streaming. Sprawled out on the bed in a sheer black satin chemise that's ridden up his thighs enough to show off his beautifully caged cock. 

Instead of anything salacious, he's painting his nails. Not every stream is as action filled as last night. Some of them are just mundane things like now. I can’t fault the audience, I'd still pay to see him too, if he wasn’t mine already. I slide into the chat without announcing myself. 

Ari147: nothing fun tonight? :( 

“I’m afraid not, darling. If I don’t get any fun, neither do you.” He blows a cheeky kiss to the camera, and readjusts, spreading his legs more. One hand idly traces unpainted nails along a thigh while he blows on the ones he just painted. 

He’s such a filthy little tease. 

Mommy: glad to see you’re behaving yourself tonight

He sits up straighter, eyes lighting up. “Hi, Mommy. Missing all this?” His hand climbs higher, running up his abdomen to his chest. 

Demonbbyy: if she isn’t, I’ll take him   Mommy: settle yourselves down

Astarion leans over, getting on all fours to look directly into the camera, licking his lips. “Well, are you?” he pouts. 

Mommy: you know I am, and I’ll prove it when I get home 

His breath hitches. “That’s all for tonight, darlings. I want to give Mommy all my… attention.” 

The stream goes blank and he’s video-calling me seconds later. “Hi.” He smiles giddily. “I thought you might be a little later.”

“What can I say, I do actually miss you a lot. How was your day?”

We chat for a while and I watch him finish his nails, still in his chemise, which hides nothing as he shifts around. He seems less nervous about the school situation, which I chalk up to actually talking about it. 

“Alright, I should probably get to sleep. I’ll call you in the morning.” 

The morning call goes smooth enough, but the day is filled with seminars and an afternoon paintball session. Why do HR departments always think that’s a good idea? Astarion starts texting me around lunch, chatty little messages that I don’t have time to properly answer. Then the attitude creeps in. 

“Fine, if you don’t want to talk to me.”

“I. Am. Busy. Astarion. I’ll call after dinner.”

I forgot dinner is an awards banquet that traps me for longer than I’d anticipated. It never seems to end, and I start trying to text him during it. No response, and a part of me begins to stress that he’s not doing well. He’d tell me though if he wasn’t, I’m pretty sure. 

I practically run up to my room after dinner, skipping the cocktail hour after and all the great networking. All because he has me nearly panicked with worry. So of course, when he doesn’t answer his phone, I’m furious to find him on stream. 

He’s not actually wearing anything, sitting on the plush white rug, a cozy glow from the fireplace providing ambient lighting.

BaasaNova: weren’t you supposed to be in a chastity cage while Mommy is gone 

He gives his hard cock a firm stroke and moans dramatically, red eyes dancing with mischief. “If I’m getting ignored, I’m not going to listen. Besides, she’s busy, so what she doesn’t know isn’t going to hurt her.”

Bookworm420: this seems like a bad idea I don't want to see you get in trouble. 

It isn’t about disobeying me, or any other kink related thing. He really thinks I’d ignore him on purpose. And that stings like nothing else I've ever felt. 

I wait and lurk while he continues to touch himself. He's bubbly and flamboyant, basking in the praise of the chat. Normally, I'd be entranced by his hand working that gorgeous shaft, now I'm getting more furious. 

Finally, with an exaggerated cry, he comes all over himself. While his hand gives a few more lazy pumps, he glances at the chat. 

Mommy: I hope that was worth it 

His eyes get wide and he sits up straight. “Shit.” 

The stream dies just as he starts calling me.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…” he whimpers before I can say anything.

“Astarion,” I cut him off. “I want you to know that I still love you and that isn't going to change. But I'm so hurt and angry right now that you could decide I would ignore you on purpose.”

“Please, I just…” 

“No, we're not going to talk about this now. I'm going to give you until I get home tomorrow to get your thoughts together. But right now I'm too angry to talk to you. So I'm going to go to bed and will call you in the morning.”

 He sobs. “No, stay on the phone with me. Please, Fina.”

I sigh and relent. “I love you, Star.”

We lay in silence for a long time, the occasional sniffle coming from his end. Finally, I'm too exhausted and have to sleep, and reluctantly tell him goodnight.  

There's a subdued call in the morning and I tell him I'll get a cab at the airport, I don't think he should be driving while that upset. Then I'm on the way home. The anger has mostly worn off but this stunt of his still hurts. 

When I get home, hev hasn't left the bed, completely naked, almost hiding under the covers. I don't even think twice before getting under them with him and pulling him to me.

“I'm sorry,” he says softly into my neck, reminding me so much of the day we first kissed. The day I'd needed to take care of him after what Cazador had done to him. 

“I know. Tell me what happened.” I bury my face in his curls and kiss his head. 

“I started getting nervous again and started to panic, and I wanted to talk to you. And I got upset that I couldn't. I know you wouldn't just ignore me.”

“Then why didn't you say you were anxious? I could have made time if I had known you were panicking.”

“I didn't want you to think I was weak. Especially after you told me that you believed in me.”

“Astarion, love, you are always going to be one of the strongest people I've ever met.” My hands rub his back, fingers finding the scars of years of his adopted father's “discipline.” “I'm sorry too, I think I pushed you into something you didn't need while you were nervous. Even if you said you were alright with it.” 

He gets quiet for a moment before answering. “It isn’t your fault. You’re always the best you can be to me.” 

“Still, maybe we should take a break from some of the more performative things.” I feel him tense and kiss his cheek to reassure him. 

“No, it makes me so happy to be like that, to be so completely yours. Don’t take that away.” 

“Let's talk some more tomorrow. There's no need to rush anything.”

“Alright. And, well, you did say that you were going to show me how much you missed me?” His voice pitches soft and breathy. 

“Astarion, you horny little gremlin,” I tease. 

“Please, Mommy. I know I was very naughty, but don't I deserve a little treat?” 

I already feel slick between my legs, even if I'm not sure that I should let him do this. 

“I know what you're thinking, but I can handle some relatively vanilla sex right now. I want to be loved.” He gives me his best wide-eyed pleading look. 

“Alright, baby.” 

I sit up, and he helps me undress, leaving kisses wherever he can reach. My hand reaches out to wrap around his stiffened cock and give a few languid strokes. I catch his eyes wandering down to my breasts with naked longing. 

Relatively vanilla, he said.

“Come here.” 

I lay back, and he follows, slotting between my legs. His cock pushes into me as his lips latch onto a nipple, and he sucks frantically. “There you go.” I stroke his hair, and he starts fucking me with wild, desperate thrusts. “That's what you needed, huh, baby.”

He whines and sucks harder, teeth scraping until pleasure blends with pain. Molten heat builds in my core with each snap of his hips, and I doubt either of us will last long. 

“So good for me,” I pant as I feel myself contract around him and my body tingle with bliss. That does it, and he gives one last jerky thrust as I wrap my legs around his hips, pulling him in tight to take every drop of him. 

He collapses on top of me, still suckling, and I let him stay that way, fucked and comforted.

After a very nice Saturday in our pajamas, we talk and settle some things between us. Astarion is still very nervous about school in a couple of weeks, but doesn't want to change the things he loves about our relationship. He even insists on punishment for his bad behavior.

We agree on three days with the chastity cage, the two he originally was supposed to have and one extra. No clothing at home, so I can see it at all times. It kills me not being able to play with my wife's pretty cock. But you know, discipline hurts me more than it hurts him, or something.  

And at the end of the third day, a very serious lesson. So, I arrange something special, to be shared with his audience, like he shared his misbehavior. He's been waiting in the bedroom while I set things up.

“Safe word, wifey,” I order when I come to collect him. 

He stares at my too short, black latex dress with my pale pink strap-on visible where it rides up over my thighs, and blushes. “Objection.” 

“Good, baby.” I lead him to the living room where the camera is already at the right angle to watch as I bend him over the couch arm, pushing his face into the cushion right next to the waiting paddle. I watch him shiver with anticipation and spare a glance at the chat. They’re in rare form tonight. 

DM_ME_UR_SYRUP: Back from my two week ban just in time.  Thornyonmain: Hggnnnnnn, god he looks so good like that am I enjoying the impending pain too much Bitchybambi: Nah, he's asked for this  Demi_g0ddess : You're so right, bestie Penguino: Aww, you guys, have a little sympathy

Picking up the paddle, I run it over the curve of his ass and hear him whimper. My hand pushes down on his back, commanding and reassuring. The first smack is light and I give him a moment. He trembles but says nothing. 

Another one, slightly harder, he whines but doesn’t say anything. I keep going, watching his pale skin burst into red blossoms with each impact. I can feel him shaking under my hand and hear when he starts to cry. 

“You’re being so good,” I coo.

He sobs in response. It’s been awhile since he had a serious spanking session. I keep whispering praise as I go, letting him know how well he’s doing, how much I love him. He’s a teary mess when I’m done, and I can feel the warmth coming from his skin. 

“I’m sorry I was naughty, Mommy,” he whines through tears.

“Shh, shh, I know. I think you deserve a little reward for taking the punishment so well.”

l take the lube I have waiting and coat my fingers. He whines for a totally different reason when I spread him open and push a finger inside his tight hole.

“Fuck,” he mewls when the second one enters. 

He pants through clenched teeth while I work them inside of him, getting him ready to take me. Each stretch and flex draws a new noise and when he’s ready, I coat the strap in lube and press the tip of it against his entrance. Even with a stinging ass, he rolls his hips into it, desperate and needy. 

I gave him a little playful smack on the marks darkening to bruises. “Behave.” 

He yelps but stills. Slowly, I slide it into him, relishing each little moan as I fill him. Then my hips rock, and I thrust deeply, before stilling again. 

“Please,” he begs, desperately. 

“Please what?”

“Fuck me, Mommy.” 

I reward him with another deep thrust, and began to move my hips with a quick rhythm. Under me, Astarion is losing himself, keening wails and pleading whimpers accompany my every movement. 

I'm aware just how achingly empty I am; later we’ll take care of me. Right now, I focus on making him properly blissed out. 

I know his cock is straining against the cage, leaking helplessly, as he reaches the edge. My fingers dig into his hips and I fuck him as deep as I can until a wordless shout rips from him and his whole body is shaking again. I press my hips tight to his, as deep into him as I can while his orgasm ebbs away with multiple whimpers, only pulling out when he’s stilled. 

Turning back, I give the chat a good-bye and end the stream.

SquidDomme: He has in fact not learned anything DrowDaddyG: I think he'll try to be better, he's such a sweet boy BardlockLongdick: Maybe you all should try opening a Bible instead of this website DM_ME_UR_SYRUP: Anyone know how I can get an air horn noise to play in chat (I'm joking, please don't ban me again)

Then I remove the strap-on and save it for later clean up. “Come here, wifey,” I say, sitting on the couch. 

Sluggishly, he obeys, coming to rest his head in my lap. I run my fingers through his hair and let him come  down from the experience. 

“I love you,” he murmurs into my thighs.

“I love you too. No more bratty behavior, right?” 

I feel the little smirk he makes. “Absolutely, lesson learned.” 

We both know he's lying, but I trust none of it will be super hurtful again. “Good little wife.”

Tag list:

@micropoe10  @writingmysanity @mxxny-lupin @azu21

 @tallymonster  @dependsonthedream @sunfire-ancunin 

@bambamwolf87 @fayeriess @lumienyx @lisrelly

@elora-the-slutty-songstress @bhaalbaaby @spacebarbarianweird

@satanicspinosaurus @darlingxdragon @wanderingisobel @astarionsbeloved

@vixstarria @claryvoyantfray @misscrissfemmefatale @bg3obsessedsideblogg @captainaceofspades @wickedwitchofthewilds @asterordinary @talented-bitch @waking-electric @snowfolly

[anoutlandishfanfic]

Chapter 32: Departure

This chapter has been a long time coming. It's short, but there's more to come. Thank you to all of you who have stuck around and hello to all of you who are just discovering Metamorphosis. I truly hope you enjoy it and I cannot wait to bring you more chapters of this fic. 💙

You can find a master list of previous chapters here or this fic is also on AO3 if you'd like to read it there.

Enjoy! 💚

February 22nd, 1744; Afternoon. Claire.

The swell of angry voices grew to a thunderous pitch, drowning out any form of coherent thought. My heart lodged itself at the back of my throat as the floor beneath me creaked and groaned and harkened the arrival of my worst nightmare. 

Gritting my teeth, I lifted my head to face my foe but it was the midwife’s face that swam before mine. 

I frowned at her and shook my head in confusion as she motioned towards the babies. A hideous sound left my lips as she reached out and tore them from my arms. 

Jamie’s name twisted on my tongue, contorting into a desperate plea for help as I careened after her. My vision blurred as the tips of my fingers brushed against her skirts and I threw myself forward, frantically trying to grab hold of her. 

My head spun as I hit the floor. The impact stole the breath from my lungs, leaving me gasping for air. I could hear the men approaching, but I couldn’t move, couldn’t even breathe as they grabbed me and lifted me off the ground. 

The shock of their soggy clothes against my skin freed my reflexes just enough for me to strike out blindly. 

“Christ, Sassenach,” they cursed as my fist hit their nose. 

“Tis me!”

I froze, staring up at Jamie in surprise. 

He blinked rapidly for a moment before a half snort, half laugh escaped him as he commented, “I canna fault yer aim, mo nighean donn, but warn me next time, aye?”

I turned my face into his chest and promptly dissolved into a blubbering mess. Jamie’s arms tightened around me as I began to tremble from head to toe. A blanket materialized out of thin air and covered me from head to toe, but it did little to thaw the bitter chill that numbed my lips and immobilized my limbs. 

My eyes slid shut as he began to rock me back and forth. He bent his head, his lips moving against my hair as he apologized. 

“Forgive me,” Jamie repeated over and over, first in English before slipping into Gàidhlig. “Oh, God, Claire… please forgive me. 

He stroked my back and the familiar, steady movement stemmed my tears, slowly quieting the raging storm within my heart. I managed one deep breath and then another as my head stopped spinning. 

I heard Jamie speaking to someone and could feel the deep vibrations in his chest against my cheek, but couldn’t make out his words. Their conversation stayed out of reach as more voices joined them, swirling and swelling around me until I could no longer distinguish one person from another. 

A hand rested on my shoulder for a moment before Jamie shifted me in his arms, loosening his embrace as he eased me back into a more reclined position. I cracked open one eye to assess the situation and found the midwife kneeling beside me. 

“It is time to bring you to my home, my dear,” she smiled gently. “You have waited long enough.”

One of the babies was tucked safely in the crook of her elbow, now bundled warmly and ready for the journey. He began to cry and she bent forward as she brought his tiny face near mine. 

He stopped immediately as I kissed his brow and cheek. His eyes opened as he scowled at me and seemed to study me closely for a moment before sighing heavily. 

“Aye, a bhalaich,” Jamie chuckled softly. 

“I ken just what ye mean.”