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ddarker-dreams · 1 month ago

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A Fool's Errand.

Yan Blade x F Reader.

Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, imbalanced power dynamics, alcohol mention/consumption, not SFW implications. Word count: 2.1k.

“Now that’s a scary look.”

Ice cubes clink together as you stir your drink, feigning an air of indifference. The warm pinks swirl in a hypnotizing display. Golden flecks catch the room’s sparse lighting, shimmering within the miniature whirlpool.

You return your focus to the reflection in your pocket mirror.

The countenance that greets you is both familiar and foreign. Color is infused into your lips, brushed along your cheeks, and blended atop your eyelids. It’d been a while since you had applied makeup, but the muscle memory kicked in eventually. After some touch-ups, you found the results satisfactory. From this vantage point, you can admire your décolleté, complemented by a dainty choker with a butterfly charm.

You can also see a pair of eyes staring back at you.

You clasp the mirror shut, wishing the shadowy apparition would disappear.

Instead, it creeps closer, footsteps echoing throughout the empty room.

You sip your concoction. It’s tart, with a splash of sweetness that soon fades into a bitter aftertaste. A hazy warmth swaddles your mind in a tight embrace.

Blade materializes beside you like a phantom coming to life. His presence is heavy and impossible to ignore, but you try your best. He’s frowning, almost glaring at you, the skin beneath his eyes wrinkled in displeasure. Your continued apathy does little to soothe the brewing tension.

This time, it’s him who breaks the silence.

“How much have you had to drink?”

“This is my third glass,” you admit. His eyebrows scrunch together. “I thought you’d come faster.”

“If you anticipated your failure, why bother?”

“I dunno. Curiosity? Boredom?” Your finger traces the drink’s rim. Suppressing a wicked smile, you add, “Maybe I wanted to find a date.”

For a fleeting instant, it’s like the room’s oxygen rushed out at once, leaving you to asphyxiate. Your eyes tell a different story — nothing’s changed, at least, not physically — aside from his pupils shrinking to a pinprick’s size. Faintly, what remains of your cognition advises against poking the beast. You’ve already done enough. In the coming days, you’re likely to regret this entire escapade.

However, your present self finds immense satisfaction in spewing petty jabs.

“Be mindful of your tongue, girl.”

Blade’s timbre is dark and gravelly. Shivers envelop your body, which you chase off with another hearty drink. His eyes follow your throat as you gulp the liquid down. They remain fixated there for an unnerving few seconds. Shifting around in your seat, it’s growing harder to deny the magnitude of who you’re dealing with. His suffocating favor doesn’t grant you absolute immunity.

You try reaching for another sip, only for him to stop you.

“That’s enough,” he says. His grip around your wrist tightens when you try wrenching it free. “We’re heading back.”

Heading back. To the life of a fugitive, forever on the run, wreaking chaos wherever he and his band of clairvoyant criminals set foot. It isn’t an alluring prospect. This brief stint has been the longest you’ve gone without constant surveillance. Even if it’s a fleeting illusion, destined to slip through your fingers, you want to hold on just a bit longer.

The alcohol flowing through your system further emboldens you. “You wanna end our date so fast?”

This little provocation seemingly accomplishes the impossible — it throws Blade off guard.

“‘Our?’” He repeats, the upward inflection uncharacteristic of his monotonous voice.

“I was lookin’ for a date and you happened to come along, so yeah, why not?” You say it as if it’s the most obvious thing. He blinks. “What? Am I not pretty enough?”

Blade’s lips part and close in rapid succession. He knows what you’re doing, you know that he knows what you’re doing, yet your flirtations still have a visible effect. His body’s gone stiff and his jaw’s set, like he’s concentrating greatly. You hear his leather glove creak as he clenches and unclenches his fists.

Leaning onto the counter, you look up at him through your eyelashes. “You must not like me after all.”

“That—” he exhales sharply, his subsequent words coming out in a low, measured drawl, “... You have until you finish your drink.”

While your mind slowly processes this information, he pulls out a barstool and sits beside you. You can tell he’s still disgruntled, yet you’ve established a temporary truce. For all the brutality he’s capable of, he's willingly domesticated the instant you offer a piece of yourself. A guard dog who requires no leash, for leaving your side is unthinkable.

This is what’s doomed you and posed as your salvation.

You break eye contact.

Outside, you hear the whirr of traffic through the bar’s thin walls. You’d already forgotten the name of the planet you’re visiting. It’s indistinguishable from most IPC-infected civilizations — intrusive advertisements carved in the night sky and menial work for the masses, who will never climb as high as they wish. The Stellaron Hunter’s prolonged presence is an ill omen for the oblivious populace.

If you asked, Blade would tell you what they’re doing here and what will become of the inhabitants.

These days, you find it’s best not to know.

“Why didn’t you try dating me, anyway?” You ask. An ice cube begins melting into the drink, losing itself. “I’ve always wondered about that. Who knows? I may have fallen head over heels for you.”

His answer comes surprisingly fast, slicing through the air like his weapon of choice. “I am not the sort of man you should be with.”

You whip your head in his direction, utterly dumbfounded. “Huh?”

“What you deserve… I can never give,” Blade’s eyes betray nothing of his inner thoughts. “It’s best that you never believed otherwise.”

The universe’s momentum slows to a crawl. You sit up straight, ignoring the wave of dizziness the abrupt motion inflicts, scrutinizing his visage. Dull emotions attempt to burst the pleasant buzz you've cocooned in. Their sharp edges push and push, testing the material’s durability. The lights flicker, unwilling to cast him in permanent light.

“If you care enough to consider all that, then why—”

Why rob me of normalcy?

Why take what made me into the person I am?

Why deprive me of my life to make what’s left of yours better?

He lets you down what remains of your drink. It burns as it travels down your tightening throat, washing away any playfulness that lingered on your tongue. Your stomach turns in on itself. Still, you lap up every drop, chasing after a numbness that can’t outweigh the grief. The act of pulling the glass away proves overwhelming for your frazzled brain. You sway, temporarily stupefied.

The cold leather of one hand and textured gauze from another steady your shoulders, keeping your body in place.

“Careful. You’ll only hurt yourself.”

You glare at him halfheartedly. “What’s it matter? Seeing me in pain obviously means nothin’ to you.”

He pauses, considering a response you’ll never be privy to, as he keeps his lips shut. Instead, he asks, “Can you walk?”

This questioning of your motor functions has you scoffing. Wordlessly, you hop to the ground, where you stay still, intent on keeping yourself steady. Despite your best efforts, your surroundings spin ever so slightly. The minimalist furniture of this automaton-run establishment blurs together. Heat flushes throughout your body, warming your cheeks like an internal furnace.

You overestimated your tolerance. It’s been a while since you’ve indulged — you should’ve considered that.

Your weak performance confirms Blade’s suspicions. He approaches you, raising his hands, likely to keep you secure like he had before. You dodge his unwanted advances out of reflex. This proves to be a mistake, as you lack the coordination to make any sharp movements. Your ankle gives out and your eyes fly wide open, arms flailing about for purchase.

Blade moves faster than you can process. You’re made to feel weightless as he lifts you up, holding you firm against his chest.

“Hey, put me down! I don’t— I can walk just fine!” You exclaim, writhing around like a fish out of water. Exerting a mere fraction of his strength is enough to render your struggle useless. Realizing that all you’re doing is tiring yourself out, you go limp, your breathing coming out erratic from the exertion. Humiliation prickles throughout like hot needles waiting to erupt from your flesh.

“Are you finished?”

You’re close enough to feel the low vibration of his voice. It rattles your bones, burrowing deep within the marrow. You express your resignation by averting your gaze. With that, he walks out, holding you in a bridal carry. Cool air nips at your exposed skin as he kicks the door open. It lets out into a back alley, where he must’ve skulked in from.

He stops here and gingerly places you down, muttering, “Lean against the wall.”

You do as instructed, though given your impaired state, you would’ve fumbled around for support without his prompting. He sheds his outer black jacket and drapes it along your bare shoulders. The fabric engulfs you, smelling faintly metallic. After ensuring you’re properly covered, he scoops you back up, maneuvering your body around like it’s weightless.

He follows the labyrinth-like expanse of alleyways, leaving the sounds and sights of the densely populated area behind. Not a word is uttered or a glance shared. You wet your lips, your mind racing for ways to break the tense silence. Blade’s always been a man of a few words, but this bout is different than what you’re used to. Heavier, somehow. Your actions have gone beyond petty defiance. Typically, you can gauge what nonsense you can and can’t get away with.

With this latest excursion, however—

—You’ve stumbled into uncharted territory.

“What now?” You ask, your voice unusually meek.

“You’ll be leaving this star system before long. We’re headed towards the pickup site.”

Your ears perk up at his word choice. “You aren’t coming?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I’ve yet to fulfill my portion of the script on this planet.”

“... Oh.”

You can feel the look he sends your way.

“Does this displease you?”

“Ah, well,” you take a deep breath, finding the act of verbalizing your thoughts in this state difficult, “I didn’t think you… liked being apart.”

“My preferences are irrelevant. Kafka will ensure you’re cared for until I’m suited to be around you again.”

You furrow your eyebrows together, parsing through this information bit by bit. It’s like your mental faculties have been slathered with tar, slowing the gears in the mire. You’re only ever stuck with Kafka when Blade’s regenerating from significant injuries or dangerously mara-struck. You reflect on the evening’s events. The ease at which you snuck out, how it felt like the universe itself aligned along the way…

Ah.

You’re the ideal variable to tamper with when increasing (or decreasing) his mara.

It’s a gross feeling — this sensation of being used like a pawn to affect the performance of the board’s stronger pieces. Perhaps the inevitably of it all is why he isn’t upset with you, or he might be trying to delay the onslaught of mara. Whatever the case, you’ve inadvertently done your part for this script. Stirring the sediments of his shortcomings and shoving your dislike of him to the forefront.

Is this all you are? A side character in the epic Destiny’s Slave has penned?

You grit your teeth.

Using what little strength’s left in your muscles, you sit up, slinking your arms around his neck for support. Blade pauses, clearly more interested in your machinations than dropping you off like a package. He turns to face you. Though you’re nearly nose to nose, the night obscures his features, save for his eyes. The two blood-red moons have an otherworldly glow to them. Their gravitational pull is dangerous, yet you approach them as a willing sacrifice regardless.

A gentle graze of your lips against his is enough for him to stop breathing. You can do what his mountains of deceased enemies gave their lives trying to accomplish. He must know you’re up to something; his grip is nearly bruising from the restraint he’s exercising. You test his fraying resolve by allowing your lips to connect. It’s purposefully brief, ending before it truly began. Upon pulling away, he chases after you, but you deny him.

Blade sounds pained when murmuring your name.

Whether it’s a plea or a warning, you can’t tell.

“What?” You ask. “You’re the one trying to get rid of me.”

“...”

Blade leers down at you. You meet his stare, unyielding, drunk on the idea of inconveniencing the Stellaron Hunters to any extent.

"... Stay still," he eventually orders, backing you against the alley's wall. "Time is short."

You wait until he's nipping at your neck to smile.

#blade trying to decide which organ of his body to think with: 🤔#I LOVE HE!!!!!!!!!#blade x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #yandere hsr x reader #yandere x reader #yandere #reader insert #my stuff #blade brainrot

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crazyk-imagine · 1 year ago

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Napping and Cooking

Pairing: Vinsmoke Sanji x Straw hat!reader

Characters: Vinsmoke Sanji, Straw hat!reader, Monkey D. Luffy, Roronora Zoro, Nami, Usopp, Arlong

Warnings: Fluff, fighting, the asshole Arlong, Sanji being subtlety flustered, you take lots of naps, Sanji being adorable as hell, everyone worrying over you, protect Nami plan is a go, Sanji being like a boyfriend but nothing's official

Word Count: 1,849

A/N: Reader sleeps a lot because her abilities take up a lot of her energy.

Reader also had a lot of hair and it sometimes gets in their face so she has to flip their head upside down and then back up or run their hand through their hair to see.

Reader has a jacket like Mihawk but it goes down to her knees otherwise she'll trip

This man... is something else

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You enter the restaurant and slip past the host in search of your crew. You can hear Luffy and know exactly where they are. You stand in front of the table, "you guys ditched me."

"You were still sleeping," says Luffy.

"You didn't wake me up," you tell them with a pout.

"We tried to," Nami tells you.

"You’re the one that wouldn’t wake up," Zoro adds, glancing at you; wondering if you’ll even make it through the meal.

Sanji glances your way and notices your figure standing in front of an unattended table.

He admires your jacket as he heads over.

"Fine, you tried. Now move over, stretchy." You try to move him only to fail, which your captain laughs at. You roll your eyes and walk over him, Usopp being kind enough to scooch over, so you have room.

You sit at the top of the booth. You didn't realize it, but you zoned out until Nami smacked your leg. Your jaw drops as you rub the spot. "Ow. Was that necessary?"

She gestures to the blond standing in front of the table.

"And for the madam?"

"What are we doing?"

Nami and Zoro roll their eyes.

"We're ordering our drinks," Usopp tells you.

"Ah, right. Water."

"And would the madam like stilled, sparkling, mineral? With ice or without? Cubed or crushed?"

The corner of your lip twitches. "Well, aren’t we sweet? You want to please all the ladies you, see?"

His head drops, he glances at the ground before looking back up, staring at you through his lashes and hair. "Only the ones who entice me with their beauty."

"I'll let you surprise me."

"Excellent choice, madam. You will not be let down."

"I know I won't."

"What was that?" Zoro asks.

"What?" You turn to him.

He starts rattling off everything Sanji said.

"He was being polite."

"To you," the orange haired girl mutters.

"Huh?"

"He only called me madam once and then you stole his attention. Clearly there was something about you that caught his eye."

"I don’t think so."

Every single kind of water he offered was brought to the table.

After Zoro loses the battle and the head chef along with the blond come in to help him, you two start talking each time he's here.

"I smell food," you lean against the doorway.

He chuckles, "I would certainly hope so. You're the only one who hasn't eaten. Are you worried that worried about your friend?"

"Of course, I'm worried about the idiot but not enough to lose too much sleep over him. My abilities take up a lot of my energy and sleeping helps me. I was napping."

He nods, "ah, now that makes sense." He glances up from the ingredients he grabbed. "Would you like to eat something?"

You nod, "I would, kind of why I came down here."

"I know. How do you feel about exposing your palate to an array of flavors?"

"I think I made a mistake."

He shakes his head, smiling. "Nonsense. I'm going to make you an unforgettable meal."

You were up on the roof when Argon and his crew entered.

You secure the rope around your waist before jumping down. "Why are you picking on people less than half your size?"

"Who are you?"

"Someone who's already kicked your bony nosed ass."

He growls, realizing who you are.

"You want to fight someone? Fight me," you smirk. "I'm a better opponent than stretchy." You tug at the rope, rolling it up. "Come on, then. Try to hit me."

He comes at you, and you dodge him.

Again.

And again.

He growls before his hand clamps down on your jacket (something you made sure happened on purpose).

"Don't touch my jacket."

"Why? You gonna cry if I do."

"No," you grab his hand and twist his wrist, "you might. Clone shift."

He's baffled at the sight of him, standing before him. "Stop it. Turn back."

"Nope."

He and Luffy are outside before you can stop him.

"Hey, you two idiots."

His crew turns to you, eyes widening at the sight of their captain even though he just walked out the door.

You punch the two of them hard enough for them to roll on the dock outside the restaurant.

You walk over to check on Sanji and Usopp, the former taking a big hit on his back.

"Are you two-" you groan and hold onto the railing as you shift back to yourself.

Blood catches the story teller's eye. "Did you take some of Zoro's cut?"

All the pain in his body left him as the blond urges forward to catch you.

"So, what? It's nothing. I can take it."

"You overexerted yourself enough already. Come on," Sanji says, helping you up.

"Are we going to help Luffy?"

"We are, you're not."

You let out a small disagreeing noise.

"Don't argue with me."

You all catch the sight of the energetic captain falling into the water and rush over.

Sanji's quicker than you and takes action. He throws off his shirt and jacket before diving in.

You force yourself to stay awake and not pass out.

His head pops up back in the surface.

Usopp helps haul the rubber man onto the dock.

You hold a handout for the chef, but he doesn't take it. "Where's Nami?"

"She's gone. She's apart of Arlong's crew," Usopp tells Luffy.

Sanji's body slumps down, his butt resting on the heels of his feet.

Dots cloud your vision and your feet sway, you knew the second you cloned, you were done.

Sanji and Usopp catch you before you could fall.

The blond man leaning down to listen to your heartbeat and make sure you're- "She's still breathing."

"She," Luffy takes a deep breath, his voice coming out scratchy. "She did too much."

"We need to get you two back on your ship."

You wake up and find yourself in your room.

You sit up, finding no one else here.

You grab your jacket and make your way to the kitchen.

"He convinced you?"

Sanji jumps, not expecting you to be awake. "Are you hungry?"

You nod and slowly make your way over to the couch. "No objections. I'll take whatever the chef makes."

"That can get dangerous if you say that to the wrong person."

"Good thing I'm just talking to you."

The corner of his lips twitch as gets back to work.

"Hey, I just-" Usopp smiles when he sees you here. "You're up. How're feeling?"

"Hungry and tired."

"The usual, cool. I wasn't worried, at all." He stops in front of the chef. "What's new on today's menu?"

"Not for you."

He gasps, "rude. I fought in that battle too, you know."

"You crawled away like a bug being found under a log."

He whines when you out him.

The other two enter the kitchen.

Zoro glances at you, "you're an idiot."

"Way to make a girl feel special asshole."

"You're going to have a scar."

"You're welcome for making sure you don't die because of your own mistake, moron."

He leans against the wall, watching over everyone.

Luffy stretches his arms out to hug you, letting his body slam into you. "You're awake. Are you okay? You passed out. Is that always normal?"

Usopp smacks the captain, "get off her. She just woke up, you're not helping."

"Food is ready."

"Time to eat!"

"No," Sanji smacks Luffy with the dish towel. "The lady gets hers first."

You stick your tongue out at your friend. "I knew I liked you for a reason."

"Other than my good looks."

The green haired man rolls his eyes, "would you stop flirting and feed the idiot before he steals the food."

"Not until the lady gets hers."

"The lady will be fine."

"You call yourself a man. A true man would make sure-"

You flick the two of them on their foreheads. "Shut up."

You give Luffy and Usopp their bowls, "eat you animals."

"Oh, we told the town of your sacrifice," you explain to Nami.

"We didn't know. Could you ever forgive us?" The guard asks.

"This is going to be a massacre," the orange haired girl says.

"For them," you crack your knuckles. "I got this."

Usopp thins his lips, "I don't think so. You're just gonna lose consciousness again."

"Why don't I knock you unconscious?"

Sanji steps forward and pulls you off the side. "Excuse her, she was woken up from a nap." He covers your ears. "She's cranky."

You smack his hands off you.

You sit on the wall, watching as everyone fights. It was the smart move, save more of your energy.

It was only when they started bad mouthing Nami that you really started getting fired up. "Woah! Hey! Hey!" You grab a rock and throw it at the fishman's head. "Don't bad mouth my friend!"

Sanji removes his jacket without removing his gaze.

"Now you've done it," Zoro mumbles.

You jump down and walk towards the green haired man.

Sanji doesn't stop until the fishman has been taken care of.

Zoro judges the chef, with him calling out his finishing move.

"Ignore him. You did good, Sanji."

He lowers his head, unable to respond to your comment.

Zoro shakes his head, not in the mood to deal with his pining.

Usopp makes his way back to you.

"Nice of you to join us."

The storyteller smiles. "Yeah, just- uh- wish I didn't miss so much of this."

You glance at Zoro and raise a brow, both of you knowing that he doesn't mean it.

The green haired man just gives him a look of disappointment.

Nami runs away from the deteriorating building and glances back over her shoulder. She turns back and runs towards you guys.

Sanji opens his arms with a smile, "Nami!"

She ignores him and throws her arms around the second in command and storyteller.

You offer him a sorry look before turning around at the sound of her calling your name. "Are you okay?" You ask.

Instead of replying she throws her arms around you, holding you tightly. "Thank you."

"Why?"

"You and Luffy gave me something I never thought I could have."

You smile. "Alright kid, get off me." You wipe her under eyes, making sure no one knew how much she was crying. You pat Sanji's shoulder, "she just doesn't know you yet."

"That would make sense."

"Where's Luffy?"

"He's still in there, fighting Arlong."

You huff, "why can't he wait for help?" You groan and start to take a step forward when they stop you.

The chef grabs your wrist and pulls you back. "Nope."

"Are you nuts?" Usopp asks. "I mean seriously. You want to fight that fishman?!"

"I'm not going to let Luffy-" The building collapses. "Great! My oldest friend is-"

"Nami! We are you're friends! We are your crew!"

"Still alive! Yay!" You jump up and down before throwing yourself into the blond's arms.

"Look who finally got their hug."

"Shut up, Nami."

Continue to: Part II

#one piece #one piece live action #one piece netflix #one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece imagine #one piece imagines #one piece fanfiction #one piece fanfic #sanji x reader #sanji x you #sanji imagine #sanji imagines #sanji fanfic #sanji fanfiction #vinsmoke sanji #vinsmoke sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji x you #crazyk-imagine

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zriasstuff · 8 months ago

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Slytherin boys x reader (kinky shit vol.1)

lowk embarrassed because this is from my shortlived unhinged wattpad era, but here you go (i didn’t want this to just rot away in my google docs drafts), vol.2 in case you’re interested

Warnings: overstimulation kink, sexual content, no plot, mdni, yk the drill, not proof read

Mattheo Riddle:

He enjoys it so much when you continue to suck him after he just came down your throat. His tip is always hypersensitive, and he turns into a groaning and swearing mess when you swirl your tongue around it. Although he tries to control it, the occasional whimper slips through too. The feeling of pain and pleasure combined makes his swollen dick twitch in your mouth and come extremely quickly.

“Fuck princess, only you can make me feel like this”

Tom Riddle:

He will almost always tie you up, either to the headboard, or arms behind your back. After he comes inside you, he knows that you’re still sensitive.

Since he himself is too, he’ll shove three fingers in you and watch as you squirm and whimper from the overwhelming sensation. Your insides are barely able to handle the immediate penetration and start to feel like they’re twisting. He’ll either tell you to beg for release or for him to stop. “Use your words, doll”/“You’re such a fucking slut for me, you deserve whatever I do to you”/“Beg for it you desperate slut”

You always come a minimum of three times, and he will make sure that you can barely walk afterwards. The control that he has over you just turns him on all the more.

Theodore Nott:

After you finish, he’ll tell you to finger yourself and to come once more. He enjoys having the power over you and you being obedient. Of course you do what he wants, painfully so and during it, he’ll control your speed and the amount of fingers. “Good girl, doing whatever I tell her to”/“Such a good girl for me”/“Come on, I know you can do it”

You also love all the praise, so you always make sure to put on a show for him.

After the pleasurable torture you put yourself through, he always gives you sweet aftercare.

Blaise Zabini:

He especially loves it when you ride him. Normally he wants both of you to come at the same time, but sometimes he tells you to control yourself a little after he came already. Then, after he came, he’ll tell you to keep going at his own expense, and watches you as you use him for your own pleasure. Every time you clench around him a moan slips out as he goes completely insane from the overstimulation on his already exhausted cock. It makes him feel incredibly turned on, to be at your mercy and to be used. Yes princess, use me all you want”/“All this is yours”/“Fuck you look hot on top of me”

Enzo Berkshire:

Overstimulation is one of his biggest kinks, so any way, shape or form of it is always extremely welcome. You make sure to do it to the point where he is completely out of breath and can only whimper under your control. After doing it, you sometimes wrap your hand around him and jerk him to come once more. At that point he’s already a moaning mess and his dick is consistently red and leaking. “Please can I cum?”/“You make me feel so good”

Instead of your hand, you also use your mouth sometimes. You deepthroat him for maximum pleasure and you feel his hips bucking and begging for renewed release.

Draco Malfoy:

For him it involves a bit of temp play too, but after both of you finish he’ll get a few ice cubes to drag out your post-orgasm pleasure. He’ll slowly drag them along your hardened nipples, all the way to your clit, holding the cube in place there. The sudden change in temperature always brings out uncontrollably loud moans from you and makes you squirm around. As soon as you move too much, he’ll shove one cube inside you, which causes you to melt into a whimpering mess. “Bad girls need to be punished”/“You look so pathetic, barely being able to stay still”

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bro-atz · 4 months ago

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rooftop pool cool down

in which: it's hot as fuck outside, and your boyfriend decided that he wanted to go swimming to cool down.

pair: wooyoung/afab!reader

word count: 2k

content: smut, slight pwp, established relationship, nicknames (baby, babe), reader is wearing a one-piece bathing suit, slight ice play, semi-public sex, pool sex (which i do not recommend unless you prepare properly for it), unprotected sex (PLS REMEMBER TO WRAP UP IRL), completely consensual!

rated: R | nsfw — minors do not interact

author's note: "i made it my personal mission to kill fawn" — fawn, 2k24

summer boys series: wooyoung, san, jongho

“It’s so hot!” you complained at the top of your lungs.

You flung your head back and whined as you weakly fanned yourself with your hand. It was a really fucking hot day, and of course, your AC unit had to break. Your boyfriend suggested you two go to the pool since there was a rooftop pool at the bougie-ass gym near your apartment, and while you thought that was a great idea at first, you regretted it immediately. A rooftop pool was a terrible idea because you were that much closer to the sun.

“Babe, the pool water is cold, and you’re lying down in the shade— how can you still be complaining?” Wooyoung asked as he swam past your lounge chair.

“Wooyoung, my love, it’s fucking hot. I’ll be complaining all the live-long day,” you grumbled. “Also, you do realize that we have the entire rooftop pool to ourselves because it’s so fucking hot that no one wants to go outside?!”

“Even better! We don’t have to share the space!”

Wooyoung grinned at you and continued swimming. You huffed and laid back in the shade. You fanned yourself as much as you could with your hand before getting exhausted. You groaned in frustration once more before flinging your head back into the lounge chair. You looked to your side to see that even your iced tea was sweating to death— actually, the tea was long gone at that point. It was just a cup of ice that was melting rapidly.

“Wooyoung, look!” you caught your boyfriend’s attention and pointed to the cup of ice on the table next to you. “Even the cup is sweating.”

Wooyoung swam up and got out of the pool. He grabbed the towel he had resting on the chair next to you and started patting himself down as he looked at the ice.

“Babe, why don’t you just press the cup against you? Won’t that cool you down?” Wooyoung reasoned.

You opened your mouth to respond, but you truly had no response— it was so hot that your brain was barely functioning. Wooyoung smiled at your expression, his eyes turning into crescents. He sat down on the edge of your chair and grabbed the cup. He pressed it against your neck to cool you down, and it worked well; so well, in fact, that you thought your skin was extinguishing and sizzling because of how fucking hot you were.

“Hey, I have an idea,” Wooyoung whispered.

You looked at him in confusion— why was he whispering? You nodded your head to get him to keep talking, but he remained silent. He fished one of the more intact ice cubs out of the cup and popped it into his mouth. Next thing you knew, Wooyoung was pressing his lips against yours. He pushed his tongue into your mouth, the ice cube rolling onto your tongue. You for sure thought you were going to choke on the ice cube, but Wooyoung was supporting the back of your head with his hand, keeping you upright and steady so that the ice didn’t slip down your throat.

The ice cube melted within seconds, but Wooyoung didn’t let that stop him from kissing you to the point where he was practically eating you alive. He popped another ice cube into his mouth, and your tongues played keep away with ice until it melted. He was about to go for another one when you pushed the cup of ice away, your hands cupping his face and resting on his shoulder. You didn’t give a fuck about the ice at that point; you just wanted to keep kissing your boyfriend.

You pushed the cup away, but Wooyoung still grabbed a cube. You were about to get huffy and frustrated with him, but you didn’t have to once you felt what he did with it. Your spine tingled when he pulled the strap of your bathing suit down to reveal your breast before immediately rubbing the ice cube in circles on your nipple.

“Holy shit,” you gasped as the ice cube melted, leaving Wooyoung’s fingers to tease your nipples. “Oh my God, Wooyoung…”

“You like that baby?” Wooyoung asked breathlessly as he pressed his forehead against yours. “You want more?”

Wooyoung reached for the cup again, but you grabbed his arm and stopped him.

“Enough of the fucking ice cubes. I want you to fuck me,” you breathed out, your words nearly turning into a whine.

“Oh?” Wooyoung chuckled. “Isn’t it too hot for that, babe?”

“Shut up,” you actually whined that time. “I need you, baby.”

“Where?”

You looked around. There was no way you were going to be able to fuck in the lounge chairs because there were cameras nearby. You thought about the locker rooms when Wooyoung interrupted your thoughts with an insane one of his own.

“We can do it in the pool…”

“Oh my— Wooyoung, you’re fucking insane!”

“Come on! It’ll be fun!”

Fun?!

Before you could continue the argument, Wooyoung got a good grasp on your arm and pulled you into the pool before jumping in himself. You sputtered and pushed your hair out of your face when you surfaced, anger and fear taking control of your brain. You watched Wooyoung surface and shake his own hair out before pushing it back. He looked incredibly sexy and even more so because you were watching his side profile. The way he tilted his head back, making his neck and jawline look irresistible, made you swallow the pool of saliva collecting in your mouth nervously.

After that, it was definitely lust running your brain.

Wooyoung wrapped his arms around your waist and led you to one of the corners of the pool— a definite blind spot from cameras and anyone who entered if they were to. As soon as you got there, Wooyoung's lips crashed into yours, his hands grabbing your waist desperately. You breathlessly made out with him, your arms wrapping around his shoulders. You clung to him as he did most of the work. He slipped his hands under your bathing suit, his hands briefly straying towards your breasts before he decided he had no patience for foreplay. He ran his fingers down between your legs and rubbed your folds with two fingers before pushing the suit aside.

Your back was pinned against the ledge as Wooyoung moved your leg up and around your waist. He pulled his cock out of his swim shorts and rubbed the length along your cunt, sparks shooting through your nerves. He stopped kissing you to look at your face— you looked desperate as hell with your half lidded eyes and your slightly parted lips, and it excited Wooyoung further. He chuckled at your expression before tilting his head down so he could try to peer through the water at his cock and your entrance.

"This might hurt, babe, so brace yourself," Wooyoung said lightly.

You didn't think it would because water should be a natural lubricant, right? Well, he was right; it did hurt, but not as much as you thought it would. You clung a little closer to him as he pushed his cock all the way inside, the movement of the water stimulating you a little further. You gasped and held onto the back of Wooyoung's neck when you felt him suddenly thrust, your nails leaving little indents in his tattoo.

Wooyoung was trying desperately to hold back his own grunts as he fucked you haphazardly. Every time he moved, the water around you swayed, making everything he did more sensuous; and because you were so weightless in the water, Wooyoung was able to easily move you the way he wanted. He lifted you up slightly, making you wrap your legs around his waist and cling to him completely. You were clinging to him, but you were trembling uncontrollably because not only did it feel so damn good, but you were also terrified of falling into the water and swallowing a great deal of pool water.

"Babe, look at me," Wooyoung said breathlessly as he tilted his head up.

Your eyes met his, and all of your worries vanished within seconds. You cupped his face and kissed him softly, slowly, sensually. You felt like you were on cloud nine with the way he was kissing you and holding your ass and moving your body up and down on his cock like a weightless fairy, and it only got better when Wooyoung's tongue slipped into your mouth again. You sighed blissfully in between kisses, Wooyoung's own breath hitching every so often when he bottomed out.

To be honest, you were a little disappointed when your feet touched the bottom of the pool when Wooyoung set you down and pulled out, but that disappointment disappeared within seconds when he turned you around and pressed your chest up against the wall. He slipped his cock back inside you before reaching around and pushing his hands under your bathing suit to cup your breasts. You couldn't help but let out a moan when you felt his fingers pinch and twist your nipples, making him laugh a little.

You were clinging to the edge of the pool as he fucked you from behind. He did rut slowly at first, but the second he felt your cunt clench around his cock, he moved rapidly. The flow of the water was definitely slowing him down from his usual pace, but that didn't change how fucking amazing it felt to be railed by your boyfriend.

It was when Wooyoung bucked his hips upwards did he graze your G-spot, and he continued to fuck you at that angle, making him hit your G-spot repeatedly. You let out a soft crying moan as he continued to fuck you even past your peak pleasure. Your brain was so far gone that you couldn't even ask him to slow down, so he continued to fuck you through your orgasm, your walls fluttering then clenching as you let the pleasure wash over you.

"Fuck— Babe, you got so tight!" Wooyoung couldn't help but hiss when he felt you squeeze his cock.

"D-Don't pull out, baby," you stuttered. "Cum inside— Ah!"

The second you told him to, Wooyoung rammed his waist into yours. His hands were still cupping your breasts, so he squeezed them hard as he came, a long groan leaving him as he did so. He kept his cock buried inside you for a while while he rested his chin on your shoulder. You could hear him sigh with content as he let go of your breasts and wrapped his arms around your waist to hug you closely.

"You still feeling hot, babe?" Wooyoung whispered.

"No, not really," you responded after thinking about it for a second.

You could hear Wooyoung hum happily in response. You bit back a moan when you felt him finally pull out. Wooyoung barely got to adjust your swimsuit before you turned in his arms and held the back of his neck. He kissed you softly before leaning away slightly to gaze at your face.

"I have a question for you."

"What is it?"

"You never ask me to cum inside, so why'd you say to now?" Wooyoung asked before quickly adding, "Not that I'm complaining or anything."

"I didn't want to risk having your cum float around," you murmured.

"...Does cum really do that?"

"Sometimes it does..."

"How do you know that?" Wooyoung asked teasingly, but you could see in his eyes that he was a little worried.

"I saw a reel about it," you admitted coyly, making him laugh loudly.

"Well... We should probably get washed up, then. I'll help you."

"...You want to have shower sex, don't you?"

"No, I want to make sure you don't get a yeast infection," Wooyoung responded as he hopped out of the pool. He held his hand out for you to grab, and on your way out of the pool, he whispered, "But shower sex doesn't sound so bad either."

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repulsiveliquidation · 1 month ago

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Good Girls || Alexia Putellas and María León

warnings : smut (18+), cunnilingus, face-riding, rough sex, light bondage, gagging, fingering, choking, rimming, riding, dildos, buttplugs and strap-ons.

a/n : special thanks to spicy anon for some scene inspiration :)

There were lights flashing all over the place when you walked into the bar. The music blared and the smell of alcohol and cigarettes filled your nostrils. People were dancing and yelling, grinding and making a fool of themselves left, right and center.

You sauntered in, finding a quiet spot at the end of the bar. The bartender recognized you, flashing you a smile as he put away the glass he was cleaning.

“The usual darling?”

“If you don’t mind, Jack.”

A pale ale with perfect foam sits in front of you seconds later, the bitter beverage giving you just a little boost in confidence to walk over to the table you were supposed to be sitting at. Two women wearing dark clothing sat tucked in the very back of the VIP section, talking to each other in hushed voices. There weren’t many people sitting in that area, and you noticed a certain look to the people who did.

They looked rich.

You caught Jack’s attention, drinking the last swig of beer before making a request that always made your core tingle.

“I’ll have what the one on the right at the end over there is having, baby.”

Jack smirks, grabbing a whiskey glass and a perfect cube of ice to make an old-fashioned.

“Another one of your victims, sweetheart?”

“We’ll see, we met at Manuela’s last week and had a great time.”

He throws a napkin down and sets the citrusy beverage right on it. The scent of bitters and orange peels brings back some fond memories of last week’s appointment and you can’t wait to see what those two came up with this week.

You stand and adjust your dress before grabbing your drink and walking over to the VIP area. The bouncer, Jorge, listened carefully to your little story about meeting with those two girls at the end of the hall. He nodded and smiled kindly before leaning in and whispering, “They’ve reserved the mirror room tonight.”

Your eyes lit up and your heart pounded in your chest. The mirror room was the best room this sex den/bar had to offer. Approval from the big boss herself was the only way to know and get access to the room. Having been a loyal patron of the bar and a treasured dancer at the club the owner also owned, you’ve heard of the room before, dreaming that one day a client would give you the chance to experience it once and for all.

Well that day was today.

With hands shaking and a sip of liquid courage to walk into the VIP area, your core throbbed with anticipation of what’s to come.

Their whispering stopped when you slid into the booth beside the heavily tattooed defender, fishing a cherry out of your glass and popping it into your mouth.

“Fancy seeing you here,” you begin, daintily sipping your half-empty glass.

“Could say the same for you, princesa,” growls the much broader one that sat opposite you. Her lips smirked underneath her hood, piercing hazel eyes sending a shiver down your spine.

“Alexia and I were just talking about you,” María quips, stealing the toothpick out of your glass and eating the last cherry on it.

“Only good things, I hope,” you chuckle, watching as Alexia swished her cognac in her glass before taking a long sip.

“We were talking about how good of a fuck you were last week,” Alexia says, licking her lips as the gasoline-like liquid goes down her throat. María leans in, lips barely pressed against your earlobe.

“We were wondering if you’d be good if not better tonight, especially for what we’ve got planned.”

Her arm pulls you in close and she kisses you, the taste of her gin and tonic with your old-fashioned sent your head spinning, thighs parting when her strong hand slipped between them. You could already feel the ache in your cunt from her simple touches, when the thought of Alexia just sitting there and watching you two sends you even further into a spiral.

“The room is ready for you, ma’am,” a worker interrupts, causing María to pull away with a smirk on her face. Alexia slides out of the booth gracefully and you follow, thighs already sticking together as you walked up the stairs to the private suites.

Alexia holds the door open for you and you step inside, not knowing what to expect. Your jaw drops when María flips the lights on.

There are floor to ceiling mirrors along every wall of the room. Just above the bed there was a big mirror that gave anyone on the bed the perfect 360° view of anything going on anywhere. They were seamless and the lights made no shadows anywhere at all.

This was not what you thought the mirror room was. But boy were you excited to try everything it had to offer.

“We’ve got it to ourselves for the night, why don’t you have a seat on the bed and we can get started hm?”

María walked over to the minibar and wine fridge, searching through the bottles for one she liked. You sat on the bed, waiting for more instructions. Alexia took her hood off and threw her long coat on the chair in the corner.

You watched in awe as she stripped off her clothing one by one, standing there in all her glory with the prettiest lace lingerie you’ve ever seen. María pulls you out of your daze with a glass of white wine, urging you to throw the sweet and sour beverage right down the hatch.

“Gotta warm you up somehow, princesa,” María encourages, swallowing all of her drink too. Alexia stands beside María, before grabbing her jaw to kiss her. They’re sloppy and noisy which only turns you on a lot more, hands itching to join in on the fun.

Alexia pulls away and grabs the bottle off the table, taking a long drag of wine before swallowing with a smile. She taps María’s cheek softly, before turning to you.

“Did you do what I asked, slut?”

You nod, standing up to take your dress off. It falls to the ground in a heap before you step out of it. Your skin shimmers from the light layer of sweat, eyes staring straight into Alexia’s as you walk towards her.

Her large, rough hands grab your waist when you get close and she smashes her lips on yours. Her hands knead and grab your flesh hungrily, large palms grabbing fistfuls of your ass before slipping between the cheeks.

There sat a bejeweled buttplug, still slightly wet all around from the abundant amount of lube you used. María’s slightly rougher hands slipped in behind you, her lips leaving little kisses all over your back. You kissed Alexia back hungrily, tongue fighting for dominance over the other. Alexia won, albeit with cheating, as she reached between your ass to play with the plug inside you.

You moan into her mouth just as she pulls away, a deep whine left in your throat. You’re about to beg for her to kiss you again but María beats you to it. Since they were much taller, they could easily reach each other over you. They kissed like you weren’t even there, Alexia’s hand cupping the back of María’s head.

They pull away and there’s a string of saliva that left with them, your pussy throbbing as you watched both of their tongues reeling it back in. You stand between them, skin hot and sweaty, thinking of all the ways this day could get any better.

María pulled you with her, a silk tie securing your arms behind your back. Another one slips across your mouth, your eyes darting over to Alexia, who sat on a bench at the foot of the bed with her legs spread wide. María held your hand and helped you kneel before Alexia, your eyes never leaving the Barca captain.

You watched as María stripped completely and turned to face you. She knelt with you and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. You leaned into her touch, breath tingling on her face. She kissed you and you fought hard to kiss back, the gag around your mouth proved to make it difficult for you to do so. But María didn’t care. She kissed and kissed and kissed, pulling away with a frown on her lips.

“Tsk, she’s not kissing me back, Ale. How rude of her,” María huffs, standing up and sitting in Alexia’s lap. Alexia’s hand comes around María’s waist and tightens its hold, eyes turning a possessive shade.

“That’s not a very nice thing to do, princesa,” Alexia reprimands, guiding María to sit across her thighs. María does, moaning slightly when Alexia’s hands grab fistfuls of her ass. You watch, arms aching slightly as you strain to pull away from your shackles. You whimper but get ignored, eyes filling with tears as you watch Alexia touch María exactly how she touched you that night.

“fuck princesa, love how you ride my cock baby.”

“yeah ale? you like watching me take your big cock hm?”

“Sí, es magnífico de ver”

Her hands grabbed your ass, kneading the flesh hard. She left one smack, then another, and another, and one more before grabbing your waist to hold you hip and fuck into you. You were seeing stars, eyes rolling deep and far into your head.

Your thighs shook, orgasm so close you could feel that tug behind your navel get stronger and stronger and stronger before the pull snapped.

María moaned, a grin spreading across her face as Alexia’s wet fingers filled her pussy. You watched as those same fingers that made you come endlessly that night made María’s eyes roll into her head too.

María cursed under her breath in Spanish, thighs riding Alexia’s fingers gently. The Zaragozan knew not to push her luck with the captain tonight, there was a certain buzz in the air that told both her and you that the captain was not to be tested tonight.

Alexia pushed three fingers deep into María to the webbing, her eyes held a dark, lustful gaze that both terrified you and made your cunt throb painfully. Your thighs were so wet and sticky, the scent of your arousal was obvious, you ground a little into the ground on your knees, the movement pushing the plug in your ass around just a touch.

Alexia had her lips wrapped around María tit when she caught a glimpse of you not paying attention. The fingers that were rubbing hard and fast on María’s sweet spot stopped. The latch she had on María’s tit loosened with a faint pop.

“Eyes up here, you whore.”

Your eyes dart over to the voice, fear washing over your face. Alexia stood and picked María up at the same time, throwing the defender onto the bed like she weighed nothing. María laid with her legs wide open, hands gripping the pristine sheets tight to keep herself from touching where she wasn’t supposed to.

Alexia towered over you, grabbing your arm to help you stand. She pulls you to the bench she was just sat in and gestured for you to kneel on it like you did on the floor. You gulped, looking at María in front of you who was smirking proudly as your eyes went over her legs, to her core, her stomach, her chest and finally glancing over her lips before making eyes contact with her.

She winked at you, the cheeky fucker that she was, which only made you feel more frustrated. Alexia left a soft kiss on your shoulder before joining María on the bed. She pulled the defender to face her, settling between her strong legs. The captain touched María gently, you noticed her eyes getting a little softer the longer she stared at her closest friend.

However, when María’s eyes darted to the sight of her in the mirror above them, Alexia turned back into her stoic self. It was like she had forgotten the mirrors and María had reminded her of them. Her head tilted to the left and up, a smirk growing on her face. Her gaze caught yours and you swore you were foaming at the mouth. Alexia pulled the silk tie from around your mouth and left it around your neck with plans to use it later on.

“Enjoy the show, princesa.”

María didn’t have time to think about what was about to happen to her. Alexia, who had put on a strap somewhere between fingerfucking María and eyefucking you, pushed the head of the toy right into María’s slightly gaping pussy. María moaned but her eyes never left her reflection, hands reaching for Alexia’s thigh to hold on to. Alexia pounded right into María and you watched, the throbbing between your legs now insanely hard to ignore.

“Please Ale, please it hurts…”

Her hips never stopped moving as she looked over at you like you had asked for the weather.

“What hurts hm?”

An embarrassed blush came over you as you stuttered the words she wanted to hear.

“My pussy,” you whispered, knees sure to be bruised tomorrow.

“I’m sure María can do something about that.”

Alexia’s hips were still fucking into her hard as she helped you maneuver onto the bed, hands working quick to untie your arms. You straddle María’s face, taking a cheeky glance up at the mirror up top as well as the one that was behind Alexia.

Your brain had barely processed the sight of all the tattoos Alexia had on her back, as well as all the muscles that were hard at work fucking María, when her tongue lapped up at your soaking folds. Her tongue flicked over your clit and you could not form a sentence. Your jaw slacked and you held onto Alexia, who cooed at you adorably. Two of her fingers pushed themselves into your mouth and you gagged, eyes filling with tears as she forced your mouth closed and growled lowly for you to suck.

You do, tears falling down your cheeks as your suckled on her fingers and your hips ground down onto Mapi’s tongue. Alexia fucked Mapi with force, free hand kneading at your breasts.

“You getting close María?” she whispered, using Mapi’s real name humiliatingly, “Princesa?”

A muffled “Sí!” and begging nods from you, she increases her efforts to make her best friend come which spurs Mapi on to make you come.

The two of you come at the same time and you’re watching your expression the whole time in the mirror across from you, just like Mapi tried to in the one above her.

The room heats up and you climb off Mapi, kneeling beside her to kiss her pruning lips thankfully. You taste yourself on her tongue, moaning into her mouth before the silk tie around your neck is pulled on.

Alexia manhandles you to the mirror in the corner of the room, strap switched out for a new and slightly bigger one. She’s set the one she used on Mapi to the side, ready for when Mapi decides she wants round two.

But for now, Alexia focused her attention on you.

“The star of the show,” Alexia praised, hands caressing your clammy skin. She kissed along your shoulder as she stood behind you, nibbling gently on your skin.

Alexia reached around and fondled your breasts, making eye contact with you in the mirror. Her perfectly manicured nails framed your breasts, kneading them gently as they trailed down lower to your stomach, which tickled, and then to your hips and lower down your thighs. She knelt behind you, hands spanking your ass before spreading them. There sat the plug, looking a little hurt from being ignored. She pulled the metal thing out from you and moaned when it left a little gape, chucking it somewhere in the room.

You looked at María in the reflection of the mirror, mouth watering when you saw her lazily fingering herself. You were about to comment when a hot tongue pressed flat against your asshole. You keened just a little and reached back to cradle Alexia’s head, pushing your ass back into the feeling of her tongue lapping at your behind.

A hand snaked from between your legs to play with your folds, thick fingers rubbing tight circles over your clit. Your head was spinning, until you heard moaning from your left.

There sat Mapi, riding the dildo while watching you and Alexia.

“You two look so fucking good together,” she praised, gently pushing herself up and down on the silicone. She played with her clit, leaning back on her arm.

“Doesn’t she eat ass so well? I always love when she does that.”

“You’re one to talk Mapi, when you know for a fact you’re the one with the oral fixation.”

“When you taste as good as you do, you tend to develop those things.”

Alexia chuckles, leaving one last lick along your puffy behind. She looks at you in the mirror, smiling kindly.

“Bend over for me?”

You nod, kneeling in front of the mirror for her. You arched your back and watched as she lubed up her strap and teased your pussy. Just before she pushed in, she smirked and made eye contact with you in the mirror again.

“Eyes up here, princesa.”

You nod, thighs shaking a little as she slipped into you. You moaned, eyes never leaving hers in the mirror. You watched as her breasts rocked in her lingerie with each thrust, yours doing the same under you. Her hands grabbed the silk tie around your neck and she gently pulled, barely getting you off your hands on your fingertips.

The air in your lungs barely cut off, just enough to deprive you of oxygen ever so slowly. But you were obedient and your eyes never left staring into Alexia’s, a loud, long moan snaps you out of your haze when the sight of you delirious sends Mapi into her second orgasm of the night.

As she trembles from the intensity of her orgasm, lips unsure of whose name to moan, Alexia grabs your hips and begins to pound into you intensely. You’re barely getting oxygen back into your lungs when she knocks it all out again, cock pounding right into your sweet spot hard and fast.

She flicks her loose strands of hair out of her face before pulling your torso up against her chest. Her large hand wraps around your neck from behind as her hips never falter, the other slips between your legs to flick at your hard clit.

“Coming, princesa?” she teases, “getting close, sí?”

“Sí, Alexia, s-so fucking close,” you whimper, voice barely audible. Mapi crawls in front of you and sucks on your breasts, fondling them gently. She flicks her tongue of your hard nipples and rolls one between her fingers.

“She told me you looked so pretty the last time you came for her, princesa. Don’t you want to show me next?”

“Sí Mapi, w–wanna show you, wanna be good.”

“You wanna come on my cock, amor?”

“Please Alexia, please,”

The hand she had around your neck squeezed just a little tighter and the dam breaks. You go limp in her hold, Mapi catching you as Alexia pounded into you through your orgasm. You come for 40 seconds straight, muscles spasming hard between the two Spaniards.

You wake up the next morning in a warm bed, the smell of pancakes filled the room. You were cuddled into María’s side, the Zaragozan fast asleep. You chuckled softly at the sight of her sleeping, mouth slightly open as she snored.

You climb out of bed and pull a shirt you found on a chair on, shuffling towards the smell of chocolate melting and coffee brewing.

“That smells delicious.”

“It better, they’re my mother’s famous pancakes.”

Alexia puts a fresh pancake on a plate and hands it to you. You sit in front of her and eat it, groaning at the delicious, fluffy treat in your mouth.

“—¿Bien?”

“Better than.”

Just as you finished the pancake, she piled your plate with two more. You ate quietly, taking in your surroundings.

“Why did you bring me here?”

“We both want you here.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means Mapi and I want you around on a more…permanent basis.”

“Is that your way of asking me out?”

“She has always terrible at things like this, princesa.”

Mapi emerges from the bedroom, seemingly awaken by the smell of chocolate too. She sits beside you and steals the bite you had made on your fork.

“But she’s right,” Mapi says quietly, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. “What do you say?”

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missaengg · 2 months ago

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The Game

Pairing: Sylus x f!reader Tags: nsfw, mdni - seriously, fluff & smut, teasing, light bondage, light orgasm control, fingering, oral sex, penetration Word Count: 1666 You already knew this was a game you’d lose. But that didn’t stop you from teasing him despite knowing the retaliation that would follow. ao3 link here

You already knew this was a game you’d lose. He was Sylus after all. But that didn’t stop you from teasing him despite knowing the retaliation that would follow. This was the game the two of you would play. He would pretend to submit, and just when he couldn’t take any more, he would break all pretenses to devour you instead.

You didn’t break eye contact as you slowly traced an ice cube down his chest starting from his collarbone. His eyes gleamed with amusement, watching you circle his nipple with the ice, oddly relaxed despite the fact his hands were tied to the headboard.

It infuriated you.

You followed the ice with your tongue covering the cold with your heat, and as you flicked the tip of your tongue over his small, shrunken nub, he let out a tiny hiss. Your lips curled against his skin. With a wicked glint in your eyes, you nipped him, grazing your teeth against him.

“Watch it, kitten,” he murmured.

You ignored the dangerous flash that crossed his eyes and continued to trail the ice cube down the center of his abdomen quickly following with your mouth sending shivers through his body– though he pretended not to be affected– until you reached the waistband of his black, silk boxers. Sylus gasped as your lips continued down over the fabric dragging your tongue from the tip of his swollen dick to the base as you planted wet kisses along his shaft.

You purred, delighted at his reaction, now gently sucking on his balls, hands gripping his dense, muscular thighs, looking straight into his eyes. His eyes were cloudy, blazing with desire. You knew you were close to catching his ire, but seeing him writhe from your touch and begin to lose control pleased you. With a cheeky smirk, your fingers climbed from his thighs up to the band of the only piece of clothing he currently wore. You slipped one finger at a time under the elastic until all eight fingers were hooked and slid his boxers down allowing his hard member to spring free from the confines of its fabric jail.

As you covered his sensitive tip with your mouth, you felt his breath hitch and heard the headboard clatter as his hand jerked forward in reflex to grab the back of your head. You popped your mouth off and shook your head at Sylus.

“Naughty.” You pouted at him. You weren’t done with him quite yet. You wanted– no, needed to see him begging for release.

Sylus growled and narrowed his eyes, but you didn’t pay him any mind. You dragged your fingernails up his thighs, humming as you grasped his dick by the shaft and swirled your tongue around the smooth tip, catching the drop of precum in your mouth. You lowered your mouth slowly, taking him in deeper, massaging him with your tongue. On the way up, you grazed your teeth ever so lightly against his length causing Sylus to buck against you.

“Watch the teeth, kitten,” Sylus growled.

Keeping your mouth on Sylus, you shook your head, gripping his thighs even harder to remind him who was in charge. You locked your eyes onto his and took him in again at an agonizingly slow pace making sure you raked your teeth against him.

“God damn it,” you heard him hiss.

You felt your arousal grow at the dangerous look in his eyes and shifted your attention back to his dick, increasing your pace, keeping it only to the tip. But within seconds, you suddenly found him popping out of your mouth and pushed onto your back.

“Sylus,” you whined.

You had wanted to have him cum at least once before he decided to free himself from his restraints.

“My turn now, sweetie,” he murmured, his voice husky with desire.

He brought his lips down to your neck, to the very exact area that always made you squirm. You closed your eyes and gasped as he nibbled on the sensitive spot at the base of your neck and then squeaked when he nipped your neck with his teeth.

“Sylus!” you squeaked.

You felt the rumble of his chuckle vibrating on your body. “I told you to watch the teeth.” He then soothed the pain from the bite by sucking hard against where his teeth had just been.

You knew that it would leave a dark red mark once he was done. As he was leaving his mark, his hand made its way up your lacy negligee, roughly grabbing at the flesh on your thighs, moving up to between your legs. He slid a finger down the center over the thin piece of fabric, which was already soaked by your desire.

“I’ve barely touched you,” he purred. Deft fingers moved the fabric aside and slipped against the slick of your pussy, spreading it up to your engorged clit, where the slightest rub sent a jolt of electricity through your body. “You want me that badly, kitten?”

Sylus gave your clit a pinch, sending another jolt through your torso. He then slipped a finger inside you, arching it just so, so that it would brush against the top wall while his thumb rubbed circles above your slit. You let out a sharp gasp at the waves of pleasure rolling through you. He slipped a second finger inside. Your hands grasped at his broad back, fingernails clawing at his flesh leaving behind inflamed trails of red.

“Sylus,” you moaned, eyes closed, back arched, hips lurching against his palm in sync with his fingers.

“That’s my name,” he murmured leaving a trail of dark, red kisses against your chest.

“Sylus–” You were so close, your body ablaze, the pressure building in your core.

“Say it again,” he commanded.

“Sylus.” “Again,” he growled.

“Sy–” Your eyes rolled back, the crescendo of pleasure just about to reach its peak, when Sylus stopped, pulling his hand away from you leaving your cunt feeling cold in his absence. Your eyes snapped open, confusion and disappointment flooding your eyes.

Sylus chuckled deep in his throat, sitting up on his knees, taking in the sight of you with your negligee pushed up to your waist, deep marks covering your neck and chest, and your arousal glistening on your thighs, staining the sheets. “I’m not done with you yet.” He took the hand covered in your juices and rubbed it over his erect cock, his cock twitching in response.

You looked him in the eyes. His eyes were twinkling with amusement, but also dark with desire. You spread your legs further apart. You wanted him. All of him. Sylus didn’t need any more encouragement. He positioned himself between your legs, and pressing his lips against yours, sank into you slowly until he reached the base. You let out a breathy moan into his mouth feeling full from his presence inside you and wrapped your legs around his waist pushing him in further, walls tightening around him. An erotic, guttural groan escaped him. He pulled out as much as your locked legs would allow and pushed in again, slowly at first, but building into a frenzied pace. Your hips bucked, matching his rhythm, arms wrapped around his neck. You slid a hand to the back of his head grabbing a fistful of hair, lips still on his, alternating between moaning and sucking on his tongue. Sylus broke the kiss and softly trailed his lips down to your neck, the fluttery sensation of his lips sending waves of pleasure down your back until you were too dizzy to discern up from down. Your head was blank save for the fire burning on your skin, the growing heat in your core, and the frenzied need of the man before you.

Your trembling whimpers grew into unrestrained shrieks. “Sy– I’m– I’m cum– I’m cumming,” you choked out, your muscles clenching at the apex of your release.

Sylus nuzzled his face into your neck, deep, unrestrained grunts rumbling through his chest, his own climax reaching its peak. With all your nerves on fire, you let out an impassioned cry, tightening your grip on him, clinging to him as pleasure rolled through you in waves. You barely felt Sylus bite your neck. His body tensed, shaking from shuddering breaths, his breath hot against your skin. He pulsated from inside you, releasing thick strands of cum filling you so completely, it leaked out from around him. He slumped down so that your bodies were fully flush with one another, but not so much that his weight crushed you.

You both panted against each other. Sylus removed his face from your neck and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead before resting his against yours. You rubbed the tip of your nose against him, planting soft kisses anywhere your lips would reach without moving your head, his nose, his cheeks, the top of his mouth. He laughed, kissed you a bit more firmly and rolled over, pulling his softening self out in the process. You didn’t mind though because he immediately wrapped his arm around you, pulling you close and cradling your head against his shoulder and chest.

“So, was that what you wanted, kitten?”

You didn’t need to look at his face to know he was smugly smirking. You pouted, knowing that he knew exactly what you wanted, but always dangled it in front of you just out of reach. “No,” you grumbled sullenly, but with a hint of cheekiness. You flipped onto your stomach, still locked in his embrace so that you could look up at him. “But I’ll win next time.” You said this, but you knew you wouldn’t.

Sylus let out a hearty laugh. “I hope you do,” he said, his voice low and husky. He used his free hand to brush back the hair sticking to your face from sweat. He craned his neck to press his lips to your forehead, and murmured from against you, “I hope you do.”

#lads #love and deepspace #sylus love and deepspace #love and deepspace sylus #lads sylus #loveanddeepspace #sylus x you #sylus x reader #lads fanfic

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tinytennisskirt · 2 months ago

Text

Sweetheart

girl dad!patrick x babysitter!reader

summary: the growth of a mutual ‘crush’ between babysitter!reaser and the father of the little girl she babysits. problem is, he’s about fifteen years older than her and they get along a little too well. he has to remember fucking a twenty-year-old is wrong, no matter how much he might want to. no matter what other feelings might be involved… he just knows what he wants and it’s hard to ignore it when she feels the same way.

warnings: unedited from the notes app and i accidentally switched tenses so ignore that!!! and SMUT. tension. flirting. age gap, obvi! sex. sex. sex. rough.

babysitting for DILF! Patrick, his house is a little cluttered and messy but it’s his. He’s fixing his screen door when you come by, he’s got a nail clenched between his teeth, he’s not worried.

he thought you’d be younger, sixteen, maybe, but you’re twenty and a half, he deducts from asking about your birthday. he still thinks you’re gorgeous before he does the math, he’s a bit of a dirtbag that way…

tells you all about his daughter and what she likes to watch, what she likes to eat, says you can order pizza if you want and as long as she’s asleep by midnight, he’s happy. he’s more carefree than other parents you babysit for. you find your eyes resting on the muscle of his upper arm as he shows you around the house just so you can find your way. part of his introduction is just flirting, his face getting a little close to yours with that smirk of his.

you’re standing your ground and he likes that. he’s only half-aware of his intentions. asks again what your hourly rate is and when you tell him, he tacks four dollars onto it. you’re saying thank you, but he says he’ll be back by 1:30 and he’s out the door.

his daughter, dark curls and freckles is standing on the steps. she’s a happy girl, she’s polite and she’s smart, like- gifted smart. she’s silly and has hobbies of building cubes out of paper. she teaches you how and soon you’re in a pile of paper cubes.

she’s in bed by ten just because you asked her to be and she’s not fussy at all, just silly when she brushes her teeth. she has a good sense of humour and makes good references. as you tuck her into her pretty pink room with lots of books, she tells you she has ice cream in the freezer and that you’re welcome to it because she only pretends to like the flavour her dad buys her- eating it would help her out. she’s only six but her brain is amazing. you hope you see her again.

she goes to sleep and you turn off her lamp and slip out of her room. the hallway is dimly lit and you find yourself looking at the pictures on the wall. patrick was or is a tennis player, there are trophies on top of cabinets and old player photos. old player IDs and he was… hot. not that he wasn’t now, he was, but he was your age in these photos no doubt… came naturally to find him attractive. you continue down the hall and his daughter starts appearing in photos and he looks a little older but you’re noticing that there’s not a single photo of her mother.

it’s just them, you deduct. she’s not in any picture so she must not be in the

picture. you get the small tub of ice cream from the freezer and eat it on the couch, finding a show you’re fond of and watching it, finishing the small bit left, twirling the spoon around in your mouth.

you get up and look around the house a bit more. observing the clutter of books where his daughter sits on the couch, walking to where there’s a bit of sports equipment, tennis rackets, a few looking a bit… broken. smashed. you wondered if he broke them himself. your fingers traced over the pictures on the kitchen wall. he looks good without facial hair, you note, but you prefer him with. he looks like a great dad, the various photos of him and his daughter in various places, the beach, outside of a restaurant, pictures of her holding up his trophy while sitting on his shoulders. a duo for sure.

you wash your dishes in the sink and decide to maybe tidy up a bit, cleaning a few other things. you wipe down the counters and make the clutter into piles. you busy yourself until you hear the key in the lock. you’ve made the living room neat and tidy and you don’t know what to do when he comes in and he looks over everything. you just stand in the centre of the living room.

“she was really good,” you say, hand on your stomach. “she really likes broccoli, which i didn’t expect, but she showed me how to make paper cubes and she was in bed around ten, so i cleaned a little bit.”

he looked a little rustled, his shirt a little more wrinkled and his curls a little more all over. you assumed he’d had a good night out. he looked good, though. lucky woman, you were thinking. “yeah, i see.” he chuckled, setting his jacket down on the back of the couch.

you’re young and you’re shy and he can tell you’re nervous, “it’s okay? you don’t mind, i hope you don’t mind.”

“i don’t mind,” he grinned, pulling out his wallet, “it looks good, i never would have done it.” he steps closer, close to you, just in front of you, looking down at you. you’re under his gaze and he keeps eye contact with you as he pulls out his wallet and you’re a little taken aback by how intense it is. “i owe you how much?”

you state your old rate and he just grins, dimples on his face. the ones you only saw in his photos with his daughter. he smells like cigarettes and cologne. something about the way he looks at you makes you feel a little weak. your eyes fall on his hand as he flicks through bills, handing you about $60 more than you were owed. his bonus and a second bonus for the cleaning. “you don’t have to… i usually tidy up where i babysit.”

“well, i didn’t ask you to, nor did i expect it.” he says, grinning down at you. it’s smug and he smells good and he’s looking at you like you’re a meal and you kind of like it but he’s… an older guy. he has a daughter and she’s asleep and he’s tall and you are staring. he’s hot. he’s really hot and he’s looking back at you, “thank you. i’ll probably need you again in a week, are you free?”

you blink, “i’m free.” you tell him. “thank you… again. i really should be going.”

“do you need a ride home? she’s okay to be alone for a few minutes.” he’s still close, he’s still standing over you.

“thank you, but i’m okay. i just walked over, i listen to music there and back.”

“you’re sure? it’s late.” his grin is all consuming. you’re sure it’s stealing your thoughts as you continue to blank.

“i’m sure. thank you again. for everything.” you step past him and he turns with you as you go and slip on your shoes.

“thank you,” he says, shoving his wallet back into his pocket. “have a good night, alright?”

“i’ll try. goodnight mr. zweig,” you smile as you pull open the front door.

“patrick.”

“hm?”

“call me patrick.” he repeats, nodding.

“goodnight, patrick.” your smile grows into a grin and you slip out the door. he hates how he feels about you. you’re cute, he notes, but you had something about you. something he observed when he was handing you your pay that told you there was something more to you. more than nervousness and doe eyes and mid-length skirts. maybe not. but you’d be back here next week.

he heard how much his daughter liked you the next day. she rambled on and on about how pretty you were and how sweet and nice you were, how good your food was. patrick found it good to hear, the other babysitters often couldn’t handle her, but you seemed to with ease.

the next babysitting gig you were wearing a baby tee. a short sleeved, almost cropped t-shirt and jeans and you greeted him as mr.zweig again and this time he didn’t correct you. he told you to help yourself to anything in the fridge and that he’d be back around 1:00 this time. your bright eyes lingered on his hands, his forearms as he spoke, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. you couldn’t help it, he was gorgeous. and tall. he was very tall and very strong looking and maybe, just maybe it couldn’t hurt to have a small crush on him. only natural right?

he wasn’t oblivious. he saw the way you nodded when he was speaking. the way you fidgeted with the ring around your pinkie finger. you were gorgeous and you were sweet but you were young. too young. and he was going out on a date with a woman who was in fact, age appropriate. he wasn’t opposed to watching the way your hips moved or the way your ass looked when you went upstairs to find his daughter, but he was opposed to doing anything about it. you were a good treat. that was about all he could let himself think.

you had a good time with his daughter and once again put her to bed just a little earlier. 9:30. she didn’t mind, you did so much with her that she was right out. you swept, did some dishes, nothing too noticeable. you’re sprawled out on his couch when he gets back, you don’t even hear him come in. he nods, watching you watch tv for a minute before he makes himself known. he doesn’t want to startle you, so he jiggles the doorknob and pretends to shut the door so you wouldn’t know he’d been watching for a moment. you turn your head and sit up. “no rush,” patrick says with a smile. “how was she?”

“excellent.” you reply, sliding your hands down your thighs and onto your knees. “she’s amazing, i’ve never met any little girl so well-behaved and so smart. she’s very well-rounded. you did a great job.”

you almost made a grown man bashful. he smiled, looked at the wall, “she doesn’t get any of it from me. it’s all her mom.”

“oh… how long has it just been the two of you? i assumed… from the pictures.”

“her mom left a year in,” patrick replied.

“so it is from you.” you answered. “must be, who else?”

“must be.” he said, a bigger smile creeping up his face. “so you come over, watch a kid and flatter the parents, hm?”

“yes but only when i feel like it.”

“does it work?”

“with you, yes.” you were more bold, he noted. last time he’d made you nervous but he was standing just far enough away where you could hold your own. he wondered, stepping closer, if he could change that. he did the same thing as last time and stood over you while he went though his wallet for his money.

he hands the money to you, “that’s enough?”

you look at him with those wide eyes again, “mhm. yes. more than. thank you.” he was right, all it took was the close proximity to make you nervous. “you know i wasn’t trying to flatter you?”

“i’d prefer you pretend you were so i can pretend to hate it.” he chuckled, “thank you.”

“for?”

“she really likes you. you’re good with her. i’ll need you again in two days, are you free?” he smiles down at you. his eyes linger on your lips, slightly open. he found himself thinking impure things as he stared. he wouldn’t stop himself. there was no reason to stop himself. what a treat you were to have around, he reminds himself. such a pretty thing.

you smile at his ask, “i can be. i’ll text?”

“sounds good.” he nods. “need a ride home?”

“i’ll be okay.” you nodback. “thank you though.” you pick up your sweater and get your shoes on. you’re sweet, patrick wonders why you’re so okay with walking. it would cut the time to get home in more than half. aside from time alone with you, he does have a daughter and he would like it if you got home safe. “goodnight, mr. zweig.”

“patrick,” he corrects you again with that gorgeous, sly grin of his “please.”

“patrick.” you say, locking it in. but it feels wrong. too personal. “goodnight.”

“goodnight, Y/N.” he answers. your name on his tongue feels so strange to hear. you’re pressing your back to the door. god, he’s fucking hot. the other parents you’ve babysat for are very much so married and both balding, the boys your age weren’t so charming. this might be a problem, you developing a small crush… earlier it seemed fine, but faced with him. dear god.

you were back there a few days later and was patrick mistaken or was your short a little shorter? a tank top, completely reasonable for the heat, but it hit just above your belly button, just under if you weren’t moving. it’s not like it was inappropriate, if anything what was a babysitter if not hot? patrick remembered his babysitters from back when he was a kid and yeah, they were always hot and older and just out of reach. you fit the genre today expect not the older part. you were younger- much younger. at least your skirt was mid-length.

he looked at you, “you know my rules. that i really don’t have any and i’ll be back at 1:00, 1:30 latest.”

“leaving some room for a kiss goodbye,” you said under your breath. he caught that.

“something like that,” he smiled. if he didn’t know better, it was a pass at him for going out with women. it made him grin, in fact. it had some affect on you and you’d only seen him how many times?

you wouldn’t do anything, you knew that, but he seemed to look better and better every time you saw him. at first it was black polo t-shirts and jeans and he’d moved to long sleeved shirts with the sleeves rolled up and he smelled so fucking good, it was hard to ignore. you looked another way at his response, knowing he’d heard you, but what did it matter. could have meant anything… he could fire you if he thought you were bitter or judgemental.

his daughter was so excited to see you, she practically leapt into your arms. she was a thin girl, short in stature, it was no big deal. the perfect saved by the bell moment. “y/n!” she exlaimed. she was so happy to see you, it made patrick chuckle a little. you held her to your hip and something in him shifted just a little, seeing her resting in the crook of your hip like that. it flashed through him like a blast of heat and then it was gone. “you have to come see what i made today. a big cube!” she was so excited.

patrick shook off whatever the hell he just felt, snapping back to reality. “alright, honey, i’m heading out.” he told his daughter. he advanced a step to ruffle her braided hair. you wondered if he braided it himself… the thought was interrupted by his hand sliding over your waist just for a split second, enough for the leverage to kiss his daughter on the forehead. before you could think, his hand was gone and he stepped toward the door, grin on his face. “have fun. if you end up eating the ice cream, save me the last few bites.”

“okay!” she called to her father as he opened both doors, waving enthusiastically at her as he shut them behind himself. the second he was gone, she turned to you, “you’re eating it, not me.”

“deal,” you nodded at her. and you went upstairs to go see her big paper cube. You had her in bed at 9:30 again. you went to lay on the couch, kicking your feet up, your eyes settling on the picture of patrick on the wall. he was a good looking guy at your age. freshly shaved, not exactly baby-faced but compared to now, entirely baby-faced. you wondered what his type was, his daughter was such a little copy of him. she was a pretty little girl, long eyelashes and pigmented lips. her nose wasn’t exactly a button nose, but it was only a little bigger and it was perfectly proportionate.

you got up, looking at the pictures on the walls again. him, clean shaven, holding his daughter as a baby, big smile on his face. you smiled just a little at it. and the one of him holding her up in the air like she was simba from the lion king. she said her father helped her with the big cube… he was a good father. and she was lucky to have him.

you went and you got the tiny ice cream tub from the kitchen along with a spoon and you followed the pictures down the hall again. the pictures turned more to tennis memorabilia as you got closer to the end of the hall, where his room was. you found it really admirable that he never brought a woman back to the house. you stared at the door, just a little curious, but you weren’t that kind of person, so you continued to eat the ice cream and sat down on the couch again, snooping through his DVDs instead.

you left him about a cup and a half serving in the tub and watched pineapple express and thirty minutes or less and he came home at 1:05am. you turned, eyes meeting his before any words were spoken. he smiled just a little, “how was she?”

“perfect. you’re raising an angel, did you know that?”

“news to me,” he said, dropping his wallet and keys on the table by the door, adjusting his belt just a little. your eyes lingered on his hands. “here i thought i just had a daughter.”

“well, your daughter is an angel. she showed me her big paper cube, she’s very proud but she made sure you got your credit.” you said, moving your feet to the floor.

“i just held it together while she taped, she’s very authoritative when she needs to be.” he headed more into the house and you rose to your feet. “but she’s good with you. she likes you a lot, she doesn’t let me go a day without hearing about something you said or something you like.“

“ooh, and what do i like?” you said, moving around the couch to meet him on the other side. his hand was in his pocket, he grinned a little, that dimple on his face on full display.

“she says iced tea and chinchillas.”

“ooh, i do like those things.” you smiled a little. “she knows me.”

you were so peppy, he wasn’t one to want to get rid of that, but he was looking forward to his favourite part of the nights with you. he stepped forward, the same fashion as always, close to you. grabbed his wallet again, went through his bills. pretended not to notice the way you instinctively pushed your hair behind your ears. you were met with the scent of his cologne again. “she really does like you, you know. do you watch kids during the day? i have something to attend to on wednesday and i need you friday night. you’re free then?”

“i think so.” you nodded. “and i do watch kids during the day, i would love to come by and watch her, how long were you thinking?” your sentences lost their pep and spice at his closeness.

“i’ll let you know,” he nodded, handing you the money and meeting your eyes, sly grin on his face still. you were so pretty, all doe-eyed. “i paid you until 1:30, by the way,” he said, watching you eye the money in your hands. “to spare the thirty minutes kissing goodbye before i came home.”

you pressed your hand to your head, “i am sorry i said that, it’s not my place.” you were more apologetic than you’d been when he was several feet away the first time you thought it him.

he just grinned, knowing he made you feel bad for something he didn’t take to heart. “you were right. no shame in it.” he said. “how are you getting home?”

you uncovered your face, “bus today.”

“you know who rides the bus at 1 am?”

“me?”

“not tonight.” he said. “i’ll drive you.” he didn’t even ask this time. “c’mon.” he tossed his keys up and snatched them out of the air and it was hot. he was too hot. too hot to be in a car with for the ten minute drive.

you swallowed hard, grabbing your jacket and slipping out the front door, patrick locking it behind him. he had a camera outside his door, she’d only be alone asleep a little while. “you don’t have to drive me home, mr. zweig,” you spoke up once you were more than a few feet away. “i usually make it just fine on my own.”

“i’d feel better seeing you get home safely.” he said, opening the passenger door for you. you hadn’t thought him the type to. “you live with your parents?”

“no,” you said, getting in. his car was a little messy but it was mostly papers and an empty cigarette carton or two. you moved them to the back seat. “i have an apartment off aberdeen street.”

“mmm, yeah i know where that is.” he nodded, starting the car. “just want to see to it you get home alright. i haven’t been the best with it, but you’re the best babysitter we’ve met and i can’t have you going missing or see you in the obits.”

“morbid,” you noted, smiling. “i’m that good? is that your thing, babysitter comes over, watches your kid, and then you flatter the baby sitter?”

patrick grinned wide as he reversed, which was hot, his arm on the back of his seat as he did. “yeah, but only when i feel like it.” he rebutted. you smiled.

“and does it work?”

“you tell me,” he answered, your heart skipped a beat. he was probably the hottest man you’d ever seen in your life and you had to come to terms with that. you swallowed hard. he was good with callbacks.

you couldn’t even answer his question. you had to straighten out, recalibrate. he understood your silence. maybe he’d overstepped with that last one. “does she like tennis?” you asked him.

his smile got humble, “i tried. she’s not a sports girl.”

“that’s fair. neither am i.” you nodded. “tried, couldn’t.”

“also fair.” he chuckled. “so what kind of girl were you?”

“were or am?” you asked. he hated that he wanted to know so badly… he hated wanting to know anything about you, but he wanted everything. the image of his daughter resting on your hip flashed in his mind again. “i think more… writing. reading”

“anything good?”

the conversation continued, going over books and ones he skipped reading in highschool. that and tennis, his career. you were impressed. and he pulled into the lot of your building, putting the car in park.

“thank you for the ride,” you said, just a little desperate to get away from him. all the closeness and the conversation god he was so fucking hot. the car smelled like him and the cigarettes and you were just a little bit dazed.

he chuckled, watching you undo your seatbelt, his eyes on the exposed skin of your waist. “i’ll see you wednesday?”

“i still need a time,” you nodded, “but i’ll stay flexible.” you said, opening the car door. you could smirk when he wasn’t so close to you. he smiled back. “see you then. thank you again for the ride home.”

“you’re welcome, sweetheart,” he grinned. and he was evil. he knew it. he watched your expression struggle to stay the same, those pretty eyes wide. you smiled a little nervously, shutting the door and fully reacting once he couldn’t see you. you tried to compose yourself, but your body felt like it had burst into flames. you waved, going into your building as fast as you could. the entire ride up the elevator, you were thinking about it. replaying it, repeating his sentence in your own voice just completely thrown. it was a lot. sweetheart.

fuck. you took a cold shower but it wasn’t enough to keep your hand from diving between your legs. back arched, sweetheart echoing around your head. imagining those hands of his on your throat, wide, strong. he probably tasted like cigarettes and god, the thought of it was more than enough. it was only the first time of a few that night that you did the same thing.

the next morning you woke up feeling just a little confused, but he was the first thought in your head. and what was two more times before breakfast?

you got up eventually, grabbing your phone off the counter where you’d left in such a haste last night. you looked over the new messages in your phone,

was thinking 3-7, that work for you?

with freshly washed hands, you typed back

sounds good.

so casual. and you got there at 2:55pm on wednesday. patrick was dressed for tennis, leaving with his rackets. “you still play.” you said, looking at his things. “game day?”

he let you in, smiling, “practice. hi.” he noted your skort and tank top. more skin. “have you had lunch?”

“no, actually, i was just going to wait until dinner-“

“there’s hot dogs on the stove,” he said. “help yourself.” he seemed like he was in a rush, grabbing his water bottle. “and iced tea in the fridge. yours.” he said, grabbing his keys. he stopped in front of you, close to you, smile on his face. it clouded your thoughts a moment. “see you at seven.”

“see you,” you replied warily, blinking hard. he looked you up and down before leaving. you slowly made your way up the steps. it was a good thing his daughter was so happy to see you, you would have read into that.

she talked to you all about her drawings, showing you one of yourself. she was so sweet. she talked to you all about her drawing of her dad, her tennis rackets oddly detailed in crayon. you spent the afternoon together, you helped yourself to one of the cans of iced tea in the fridge.

patrick was back by four, just a little sweaty. you hated that. after last night’s sex imagery, seeing him all sweaty was a horny girl’s nightmare.

“dad!” his daughter greeted him by jumping up on him. he dropped his bag to pick her up. “me and y/n made hot dog people. come eat, come eat.” she said. you pressed your lips together to stop from smiling when patrick shot you a semi-confused look. he carried her into the kitchen, you grabbing your purse, getting ready to go. you had just finished making dinner, which you didn’t have to do, turning the hot dogs from lunch into a topping for the macaroni and cheese you’d made. that and broccoli. simple, something little miss picky eater would have.

“wow,” patrick nodded, looking at the hot dogs that had been cut strategically in person. he looked at you, sitting in the chair at the table with her on his knee. “you did all this?”

“all this?” you chuckled, “of course not, i had help.”

“i stirred,” his daughter nodded.

“very good.” patrick nodded. “think you’re going to be a chef?”

“maybe,” she said, a little sing-songy. “i’m

good at stirring.”

“she’s so good at stirring,” you nodded. patrick chuckled, eyes set on you. “i’ll get going.” you said, checking your purse for your phone. “you guys enjoy. i’ll be back tomorrow, so no need to pay me.”

“n- why don’t you stay for dinner? i didn’t hire you to make us food and run.”

“please!” his daughter leapt off his lap and pulled you to the chair. “eat!”

you smiled, “thank you. i really can’t though, i have to run! i’m so sorry, baby.” you crouched down to her height. she pouted. “if i didn’t have to go meet my mom, i’d be here eating our food, i promise.”

“your mom?”

“my mom came to visit me today, she’s at my apartment waiting. i’m so sorry, baby.” you said, wrapping your arms around her. patrick watched the way her arms wrapped around you too. she really, really liked you. “i’ll see you tomorrow night though. i’ll be here early, we can make dinner again and everything. whatever you want.”

“can we make pizza?”

“it’s a friday night, why not?” you smiled. it was cute. “i’ll bring the ingredients tomorrow.”

“yay!”

“yay is right.” you kissed her cheek and cupped her face just a little before standing up again. “you enjoy your hot dog people.” you said. you looked at patrick, who hadn’t seen you in action with his daughter yet. he was a little bit in awe. she loved you. it was more than a like. the other babysitters were tantrum material but you were an angel just the same as his daughter. he hated how he was thinking about you after something so pure, thinking about you. eyes lingering on your thighs, your waist. thinking about you, something so fucking paternal in him wanting you. it was dark. “i’ll see you both tomorrow.” you said, giving him a little look. it was cheeky. like you knew something.

“thank you,” patrick nodded.

you nodded back, waving bye to his daughter before slipping out the door. patrick would be lying if he didn’t give into himself that night. his hand pressed to the shower wall, hand pumping as the water poured over his body. he hated himself for it, but it was your image that pushed him over the edge. his daughter fast asleep, his thoughts were disgusting. he felt disgusting, it’s why he chose the shower. you were too young. and well he was a bit of a dirtbag, the age gap was enough to even throw himself off.

you, your little shirts and little skirts, the way you looked in jeans, the pout to your lips, your eyelashes, your eyes that screamed innocence when he got too close. fuck, it was dirty the way he thought about you. he thought about fucking you on that couch you were always on. the extent to which his mind went was so fucking wrong, so wrong, he reminded himself. he went to bed guilty. a grown man turned guilty.

patrick was glad he had a date the next night. someone to fuck his age to get you out of his head. he was never more glad for a sad date. his eyes fixated on you. “gonna let me in?” you smiled. he realized he was just standing in the doorway after you knocked. a near-bashful grin spread up his face, turning sly. “you know, you’re paying me by the hour and it’s 5 right now. you’re paying me to stand outside your door.”

he smirked, moving out of the way to let you in. he smelled good, date night cologne. you almost rolled your eyes. “i pay you enough for it, don’t i?”

you giggled a little, “true! i’ll go back out there if you want.”

he chuckled, fixing the cuffs of his sleeves. “i wouldn’t hate to see it. if you didn’t make a promise for pizza to little miss upstairs. all she’s talked about.”

“oh i love that, i’m so excited,” you said, putting the bag of ingredients on the table. “i was thinking of making you one too, are you a fan of pepperoni?”

“big fan,” he nodded. “olives too.” he looked into the bag of ingredients, pulling them out.

“you don’t have somewhere to be?” you asked, coming to help pull things out of the bag with him. “hot date?”

“something like that,” he answered a little monotone. “i’ll be back at one.” he nodded, backing away. you nodded back, following him to the door. god, he needed to leave for his date before your eyes got to him. your hand trailed the back of the couch, walking with him. “that’s okay?”

“you’re asking me?”

“you look like you’re about to tell me my curfew,” he replied, grabbing his wallet and keys.

you smirked just a little. your mind wandered down to his hands, the hand that had your waist just days before. your eyes met his, “oh yeah. come home when the streetlights come on?” you joked, that gorgeous smile his main focus.

he grinned, “i’ll try,” you were so cheeky, god he wanted to fuck that grin off your face, he had better be gone before he did. “have fun with the pizza, help yourself to the drinks in the fridge. she’s in the backyard.” he held his keys a little too tight in his hand.

your smirk stayed. he’d never been more glad to be going out as he drove over with your voice in his head. he ordered a drink as soon as he could.

your pizza night went well. it was good, delicious, even. she was a good little helper, obsessed with getting everything perfect on her dad’s pizza. you smiled. she slept early again, tired from all the pizza and karaoke and dancing. you were a little bit tired too. you hopped on that couch and you were out like a light.

you woke to patrick’s hand gently on your shoulder. you blinked a few times, rubbing your eyes. “oh my god, i fell asleep.”

“you’re okay,” he chuckled. “it’s a good couch for it.”

“great for it, apparently.” you nodded, sitting up. “i’m so sorry, that’s so irresponsible of me.”

“it’s late, it’s understandable.” he replied. “i’ll drive you home.”

you tilted your head, with a smile, “kicked out so fast. i’m so sorry for falling asleep on your couch, if i’d known it would ruin the way you see me, i would have never even sat on it.”

he chuckled, “okay, c’mon. i’m not kicking you out, i’m getting you home in one piece.”

“i appreciate it,” you smiled genuinely. “but i’ll be okay.”

“you were asleep about two minutes ago,” he said. “you’re not going home alone.”

you really couldn’t handle another ten minutes alone with him in his car. your hand was still cramping from the other day. he gestured the way of his car. “you had fun?”

“so much,” you told him. “she insisted on making your pizza ‘happy’ which took her about thirty minutes because the smile didn’t look right. your pizza is resting on the stove. she devoured hers and probably half a bag of mozzarella cheese.”

“she loves cheese,” he chuckled. “i’ll need you again tomorrow, is that okay?”

“tomorrow night?” you asked. you stepped closer to him, a twist of fate he didn’t expect as he grabbed his wallet. it was that time of night, but it was you who moved forward on him.

“tomorrow night,” he said. you fought the urge to ask if it was the same woman. it wasn’t your place to ask. he looked at you, the way you were looking up at him, so fucking perfect and so fucking… he felt his pants tighten at his growing erection. fuck. he hated that you had him like this. such a fucking grip on his mind, his emotions. it was so frustrating, beyond frustrating. “that’s okay with you? short notice.”

“i wasn’t busy.”

“you’re never busy.” he smiled a little. “you know most girls your age go to the bar. flirt. drink.”

“i’m not legal drinking age,” you reminded him. fuck, that was too true. couldn’t be more fucking true. you were only twenty. “i’m well aware of what girls my age do. i find the time between, believe me.”

he chuckled, “yeah?”

“yes. i do all of those things you mentioned and more. i’m a riot. a party girl. you know this money pays for my coke addiction.”

he held the door for you, grinning, “glad to be of service. you know how obsessed little miss upstairs is with the snow queen from narnia.”

you laughed, hand on your stomach. he kept his smile smug. “that’s good!” you laughed, leaning against his car. he locked the door and walked down the few steps. he stepped close, your laugh faded away as he reached around you to open the door for you. you were trapped between him and his arm and the car. you blinked a few times and he smirked as he walked to his side of the car and got in.

you got in with him, buckling up. fuck. he was good. you almost recovered from the close contact, he put a cigarette between his teeth as he backed out of the driveway. you thought that was hot. “you smoke?” he asked, pulling onto the road, lighting his cigarette.

“no.”

“mmm, good girl.” he said, blowing smoke out the window. he grinned to himself. if you weren’t wet before, you were now. your breath caught in your throat and you felt your cheeks and ears burn. fuck. fuck. fuck. it was all you could think about. good girl, he knew exactly what you wanted to hear and it was a good thing it was exactly his vocabulary. if he gave in right now he’d pull over and fuck you to pieces and you know what, you’d take it. you almost veered the car off the road yourself.

your throat was dry. your brain was screaming to kiss him at every red light. fuck him here in his car in the middle of the road and get dragged away only by cops with tasers and guns and batons. your whole body was hot, white hot, burning.

he just smiled to himself as he drove. he didn’t mind the silence, it had a good reason. it had flustered you so badly, you couldn’t crack any witty little cheeky jokes. he said goodnight and watched your ass as you walked inside.

the desperate need to get off was so wild you almost called an ex. like you were drunk on some strong alcohol his words reverberated around your brain it called for bad decisions and a need to fuck SOMETHING. like you were a creature, you needed something, someone inside of you now. it couldn’t be him, he was gone.

no, he was too old, it wasn’t because he’d gone home to his perfect, lovely daughter because he was a grown man with a six year old daughter and he was technically your employer and fucking him would be wrong. but it would feel so good. you had to resort to your own hands, sliding down into your underwear on your couch in your apartment. fingers rubbing your clit vigorously. you breathed hard, thinking about him fucking you in his shitty car on top of all the papers and cigarette cartons. fucking you so hard your head hit the car door repeatedly. he could have. if he had done anything to you after saying those two words, you would have let him do anything he fucking wanted to you.

you slept like a baby, knocked out after several rounds, enough to dull the need to be fucked to a low hum. he messaged you. before you went, though.

3-8?

perfect.

you replied short and sweet before passing out.

the next day you were back at his. he was in the driveway, you were just a little late. it wasn’t a big deal. he said goodbye, very friendly, very normal. you went inside and did various crafts and activities with his daughter, letting the good girl thing slip your mind.

he was back by eight. eight on the dot. talking about his mom being in town. you didn’t inquire. you had to meet some friends for ‘drinks’ at her place. you said goodbye to his daughter, smiling and telling her you’d see her soon. patrick thanked you for making chicken, paid you extra plus bonus for the pizza ingredients the other day. he didn’t seem like he really had this kind of money to be giving you, but you took it.

in taking everything else, you said goodnight and headed over to your friends house. had a can or two of a pre-mixed margarita, talked about things with your friends. it wasn’t until the conversation turned to something you needed to show them a picture of when you realized you didn’t have your phone. you looked around everywhere- your phone was expensive, you didn’t have the money for a new one. you got up and looked around and then it hit you. your phone was probably at patrick’s.

you didn’t have his number memorized. “do you need it?” your friend asked. “can you get it tomorrow?”

“i guess i could, but that’s my uber home and all of my cards are in the back, i wouldn’t have bus fare, i wouldn’t have- fuck.”

“just go honey, we’re not going anywhere!” your other friend chimed in. “i literally only have enough for you to get one bus, but get a transfer to come back?” none of them could drive impaired. or would. you shut your eyes. you hated the idea of showing up unannounced. but you took that bus fare. and you got on a bus over to patrick’s. you walked down his street trying to rehearse what stupid thing you’d say about this. forgetting your phone- like an absolute idiot. you had no idea where it even was but you came straight from there to your friends so it could be three places and the bus was not an option you could seek out.

you walked up the front steps and quietly knocked. you tucked your hair behind your ears and folded your arms over your chest. the evening air was chilly for a tank top and a skirt. it was a moment before he answered the door, it was around midnight so you knew he’d be up. or you hoped. it was stupid to even have come, but the margs were hitting just enough to screw up your decision making.

he was surprised to see you at the door. opened the screen door. “hey,” you said. “i’m so sorry about this, i’m so sorry- i know it’s late-“

“yeah- are you okay?” he asked, looking to see how you got there.

“i’m fine, i just… i think i forgot my phone here.” you said. it wasn’t the smoothest delivery. your eyes wandered down his body, eyeing his true build, hidden underneath those other shirts. the one he was currently in was tight, a black t-shirt. and sweatpants. he was muscular but it was all soft, soft features. one of those dad bods that bad definition not to pass as a true dad bod, but one still. holy fuck, this was a terrible idea. he grinned, running a hand through his hair as he leaned against the doorframe. “it’s so stupid, i know.”

“happens,” he chuckled. “you want to come in and look for it?”

“could i? i would be so quick,”

“i’m not in any rush,” he replied. “c’mon.” he stepped out of your way, holding the door as you came into the house. most of the lights were off aside from the adjustable dim ones in the kitchen. he turned on the lamp in the corner. “she’s with her grandma at the hotel tonight.” patrick said, starting to look around. you looked over at him. “is your ringer on?”

“i have it off when i’m with her,” you replied. patrick smiled. it was sweet. “fuck, i really am so sorry about this mr. zweig, i-“

“how many times before you call me patrick?”

“hm?”

“patrick.” he restated. “i’m not calling you ‘miss y/l/n’.”

“very true, i’m sorry sir,” you said, leaning in a little as you passed him, looking up on the mantle of the fireplace.

“that’s worse,” he chuckled.

“i think you like it.”

oh, it kicked into existence. hard. that fire you’d felt before lit up in his body. you were so smug when you thought you could be. it was all witty and teasing and the need to fuck that teasing smile off your face was back. you were too young, he reminded himself, watching you bend to look under the couch cushions. fuck, why did you have to be so…

the margaritas maybe made you a little bold. not too much, you were still you. he checked the table, looking around more for your phone. “what does it look like?”

your laugh from the other room was so pretty. “red!” you called back. red phone… red phone… patrick was so glad to be separated from you by a wall. he was hard just thinking about you. having you here was dangerous, his daughter away, nobody could stop him from doing what he wanted but himself. his morals. you were twenty years old. barely fucking legal. he was almost 20 years older than you. but you followed him into the kitchen, pretty doe eyes and pouty lips and worried eyebrows and he could have fucked you on the table when you looked at him. “nothing? again, i’m so sorry for coming in like this.”

“it’s fine,” his words were a little more forced than natural. “bright red?”

“dark red,” you replied.

“flashy?” he meant if it had anything to make it stand out.

“no sir.” you put your hands on your hips and turned around, looking on top of the microwave, behind the stove. anything. you and that tiny skirt, what the fuck was he supposed to do with himself? twenty, in a little skirt on the tips of your toes looking in high up places. the skin of your waist showing as you stretched, finding nothing. “fuck, it’s really nowhere.” you turned to patrick again, pressing a hand to the side of your face. “tell me you hid it and this is funny and that i didn’t drop my phone with all my cards on the bus on the way to my friend’s. i’m begging you.”

he shook his head, grimacing a little. but you were standing just below him, close to him. you looked up at him, observing his expressions while thinking this all over. you’d been so stressed you forgot patrick was hot as fuck. and it almost took you by surprise to snap back to reality here, where he was looking at you like there was something he wanted from you. it was extremely flustering, you blinked it off and went back to the living room to check again. patrick went down the hall and checked the bathroom.

“found it,” he called from the bathroom. you were glad this was over, you needed to get out of this house before the idea of being home alone with him sunk in. him in his tight black undershirt… him in his sweatpants, you tried and tried to ignore the print. he handed you your phone and you slid it into your purse.

“thank you so much,” you nodded, eyes meeting his. his eyes were dark. “again, i’m so sorry to disturb you this late and without warning.”

“anytime,” he was so excited to have you get the fuck out of his house. he watched your hips move as you walked out of the bathroom and down the hall. “where are you off to now?”

“i’ve got to go meet my friends again. i’m probably going to get the bus back, i have a transfer.” you showed him the little white slip of paper, your back pressed to his wall by the door. you looked him over, trying not to think about his ‘sweetheart’ and the way his ‘good girl’ lingered in your brain. you felt that fire ignite in your lower stomach. you had to say goodbye. and fast.

“let me drive you?” he offered. he didn’t know why. he’d probably crash the car. something about the night, something about the way you looked in this lamp light, the idea of being alone.

“i’ll be okay,” you said, stepping just a little closer and it wasn’t even voluntary. “it’s a short trip. a few stops.”

“remember what i said about the obits?” he tsked. “i’d rather see you here at my house than in that section of the newspaper, thanks.”

“here at your house?” you smiled. “it’s either die or be here at your house, i love that.”

“what can i say? i like you here.” he shrugged. you tilted your head. he cleared his throat, “you’re good with her.”

“so you’ve said.” you nodded. “thank you.”

“no problem, sweetheart. and i’m driving you.”

“you’re not driving me,” you replied.

“but i am. c’mon.” he picked up his keys.

“mr zweig,” you reasoned, pressing your hand to his chest. your heart beat hard in your chest as his choice of words. “i’m fine.”

it was getting harder and harder to remember why fucking a twenty year old felt so wrong. he looked down at you, your hand on his chest. mr. zweig, like it was the worst thing on earth but the hottest fucking thing to come out of anyone’s mouth. he looked at you, his chest rising and falling like his restraint was an exercise, like it was a fight. it might have been the hardest thing he’d ever had to do. your magnetic force was pulling him in and soon he’d have to chain himself to something so he didn’t do anything that’d get him in trouble. you were too fucking young. too young. too young.

you stared back. and the moment felt like forever. you could make it back alone but you weren’t sure if you candle heading back to your friends when you felt like this. that ache was back, the one that felt like drugs, like alcohol, like gambling, like the edge of an addiction, knowing the hook, the high is right there. your restraint was prettier, just a reminder that he wouldn’t. you’d let him, but he wouldn’t. it was more cut and dry to believe it was a crush and as much as you wanted him, he wouldn’t. for his daughter, for the sake of the springs on his bed, you hoped. you let out a breath between perfectly parted lips, shrinking into it.

he couldn’t. he wouldn’t. the problem was that he would. he would. he wanted to. he needed to. the second you were gone he’d go feel disgusting about it as he fucked violently into his hand, crude imagery plastered on the inside of his eyelids and he’d go to bed guilty and vile and disturbed. but you were right here and you weren’t gone yet. it was the same feeling, knowing you’d probably take the bus home just to find peace with a showerhead or even the fucking doorman of your building. you’d take anything at this very moment. what patrick wouldn’t give to have some trashy woman in his bed right now. he could call one of his dates up to fuck- he would have given so much to have been with one of them right now. because looking at you, he couldn’t… you were too pretty to be fucked by him, he’d ruin you. you were too young for him. too young and too pretty and too perfect.

he wouldn’t. you were fantasizing just looking at him. your body in flames, burning in a pit of lava, absolutely rolling in hot coals. you needed to stop. you needed cold water. ice water. liquid nitrogen. cryogenic freezing.

“i think you should go,” patrick managed. his voice was cold but not cold enough to cool you down. but he was right. you should go. the idea you’d leave was the same as believing it was all over and a guard was let down. you had the same feeling, moving just slightly to put your shoes back on, but only getting so far as an inch.

it was spontaneous and it was harsh, but it was insanely mutual, the way you kissed. you’d believed you’d get peace and that you could leave, no, wrong move. very wrong move. he kissed you with a force that pinned you to the wall, lust masking the impact of your head against the wall. hungry, starved, violent, he kissed you, hands on your waist, gripping hard as they moved down to your ass, squeezing, grabbing. fast, messy, sinful, his hands under your ass, he lifted you up against the wall.

it would have taken more than the jaws of life to pull the two of you apart. it was fast paced, like the both of you were in some sort of vicious caged battle, your arms around his neck, fingers curled right into his hair. you’d never been kissed or touched like this before. you were moaning from just the kiss and he swore the god he’d never been harder in his life. neither of you could wait, there was no time to just kiss, you weren’t teenagers, you weren’t patient or naive or curious, you were demanding, grabbing at each other like a lifeline.

he stepped off the wall, carrying you the best he could, too distracted to actually know which way his room was. he could have you on the couch, he was impatient, so were you. he let your feet down, your hands desperately clutching his shirt, pulling him down the hall as you kissed nonstop, breaking only for small breaths and for your shirts being stripped as you walked backward. his big hands cupped your face, pressing you against both sides of the hallway while your hands fumbled with the drawstring of his sweats. there was no time for any of this.

it was animalistic. it was the basic need, it was desperate. you crashed into his closed door and patrick swore to god he’d destroy anything in the way of him fucking you right now. he would have either kicked his door in or fucked you against it, no problem, but you reached behind you and opened his door so he didn’t have to do either of those things. he was blinded by lust, your hand down the front of his boxers within seconds of being in his room. you crashed backward onto his bed, crawling over him in your skirt, your hand stroking him up and down, but he had no need for it.

in seconds you were flipped onto your back and you were working together to kick your skirt and underwear off, gone to the same abyss his pants and boxers went. you were too young, patrick reminded himself as your bra came off. too young for him, too young, to pretty, too perfect to be fucked so hard by him. but he had you and there was no stopping him. it was a mistake, it was wrong, but there was nothing in his way as your hand slid down over his chest, following the trail of hair. he kissed your neck enough to make you cry out as his teeth followed his lips, leaving what would be nasty marks by morning.

your legs open, ready for him, he didn’t waste a single fucking second more, grabbing your hips and fucking into you. you swore to god you felt stars with how hard his first thrust was. he filled you to the brim, you weren’t sure you had any more space of all of him inside of you. you felt him stretch you out from the inside and you had no time to adjust to just how huge he was as he was instantly pounding into you. “good girl, taking all of it so perfectly,” he groaned. your nails were already in his back, desperately grabbing for something. your moans were loud and fucking pornographic. he wouldn’t have thought something like that could come from your pretty mouth. he wasn’t very considerate for your young, tight pussy as he thrusted into it with a violence only seen in the most gruesome of acts. he’d wanted to fuck women before, but he’d never needed to fuck someone so badly in his entire life. and it showed with the sheer force of which he fucked you. “you feel so fucking good.” he assured you with a decency that was not genuine whatsoever. it came from a place that disgusted even himself. you were only twenty…

“oh my god!” you exclaimed. you were sure he was actively bruising your cervix. it hurt so fucking badly but it felt too good for you to care. you saw stars, they spun and danced as your pleasure took over your entire body, legs wrapped around him, shaking already from the impact. skin on skin, loud as you both were, groaning, moaning, dirty little strings of words slipping from his mouth as he fucked you. “fuck me, fuck me- fuck!” you couldn’t help the noises you made, pathetic, reduced to just a moaning mess and a puddle of a girl who had only thought this was a violent crush.

“so wet for me, you wanted this so fucking bad, hm?” he taunted, evil grin on his face.

“uh-huh,” you sighed, hardly able to say the words. “s-so-“ you knew you had something to say but it was gone, erased repeatedly with every thrust into you. you’d have a witty response if it wasn’t for how good and all-consuming this was. “god-“

he fucked you with all of his pent up frustration, his hand sliding up the soft skin of your neck, pressing just gently, but enough. you were moaning loudly, the headboard hit the wall hard, and that hand on your neck moved to shove his fingers in your mouth. it was enough to make you into something even less, taking them in your mouth like you should. “so good for me, so pretty- fuck-“ he groaned, strong thrusts not faltering for a second. “this what you wanted?”

“m-mhm,” you said, pretty lips closed around his fingers, struggling to feel so much at once.

“so fucking perfect, guys your age fuck you this good?”

“god- fuck- no,” you moaned. he took his fingers away. he lifted your leg up, fucking into you with a new angle that spread goosebumps all down your skin. you were being fucked dumb- you were sure that you were forgetting your own name actively. losing yourself in this. patrick had never fucked anyone so hard in his life, feeling himself reach the furthest point inside of you over and over and over. “patrick-“

his name moaned from you gave him new momentum and you couldn’t help the constant warm rushes that ran over your body like pulses, like waves on a shore. your body was a solar system of exploding stars. the hands that travelled your body were sure to leave bruises on you by later… harsh and strong and not letting go, fingers in your flesh. it was only fair, your nails dug into his back, he was probably bleeding. “gonna come for me, sweetheart?” he said, grinning over his own groans. if he’d been anyone else the question would have been stupid, sex is never that good, but this was. no clitoral stimulation needed he was hitting every right spot in the right way. you felt it like a knot coming undone, like all the stars that were exploding were both imploding and exploding rapidly, like a blinking threat for the collapse of a universe. dramatic, an imperfect display and an unfair comparison but so fucking needed. you nodded hard, mouth open, breathing hard, kissing him when you could. it was messy, uncalculated, but so fucking perfect.

out of desperation, you lifted your hips the best you could to meet his harsh thrusts. needing to finish, needing this more than you’ve ever needed anything. you couldn’t help the grin that spread up your face, even in the heat of things. you won. he caved, you won. and he couldn’t fuck this smile off your face. you only held it as long as you cut put off finishing, the friction, the feeling building up to crash around you. it was full-body, felt entirely. your nails dug into him harder and he waited just another moment to spill into you. you felt it hot between your legs as he continued to pump in and out of you, so much cum that it seeped out before he could pull out. he didn’t think about anything but you, how wrapped up he was in this, how fucked he was. he’d lost to a pretty twenty year old. as if this was some sick game. you’d both gotten what you wanted, but the cost was greater.

it was the hardest orgasm you both had ever felt, both of your ears ringing, breathing heavily, feeling all of it. to the greatest extent possible. he pulled out and collapsed beside you, his back stinging as it hit the bed. your smile returned as you tried to catch your breath, the stars dancing out of sight slowly. “oh, i’m fucked,” patrick breathed, hand falling onto his chest.

you laughed breathily, “other way around.”

he chuckled over his harsh breathing, chest rising and falling deeply. he rubbed his face, but it couldn’t erase the fact he had sex with a controversially young woman. what was worse? the fact he had needed to fuck her so badly or the fact he didn’t feel any better about it afterward? or the surprise third thing that was the urge to keep you close?

“okay, listen-“ he said, propping himself up on his elbow turning your way, but you grabbed him by the jaw and pulled him into another kiss. a second kiss, with a different meaning than the first one. it was still hard to breathe but he didn’t mind, grin spreading up his face, a little sly, dimple showing. he felt a little less ashamed with this kiss in the way. it was different. oh he was soooo much more than fucked now.

taglist: @kaaaiiaaa @swetearss @xoxog0ssipg1rl @lalalandofive

#challengers #patrick zweig #challengers x reader #tinytennisskirt #patrick zweig smut #dilf!patrick #dilf!patrick zweig #patrick zweig fluff #patrick zweig headcanons #girl dad! patrick zweig #patrick x reader #art donaldson x reader #challengers fic #challengers x y/n

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magicalqueennightmare · 5 months ago

Text

It's the Heat

Billy Butcher x Reader

It's the hottest summer in years and the safe house Frenchie's contact handed over to the boys has no air

It's just a smut(ish) drabble

You turned over for what felt like the millionth time. You appreciated having a safe place to crash until Grace could help all of you out of this tight spot but for the love of christ they couldn't have thrown in a singular working air conditioner?

The one fan that had been alloted per bedroom was the only thing keeping what little sanity you had. MM had his own room, Kimiko was in with Frenchie, Hughie was with Annie and that meant you were stuck with Butcher.

"For fuck's sake,if you flip over one more time I'm kicking you out of the bed" you groaned hearing his voice behind you. "It's feels like the seventh circle of hell in here" you turned to face him and the bastard was laying back across the bed with his eyes closed. He'd shed everything down to his boxers,no wonder he wasn't complaining.

You were wearing a tank top and thin cotton pants but they felt like they might as well have been made of wool. He opened one eye and smirked "Strip down. Fan feels pretty decent when nothings stopping it" you knew he was purposely fucking with you but the idea did sound promising.

You shrugged and lifted your bottom off the bed to wiggle the pants off your hips, you cut your eyes at Butcher to see he now had his head propped up on one arm watching you. The look in his eyes told you he didn't mind the view and honestly the fan did feel better already. Butcher was a lot of things but you knew you could trust him to the extent of not touching without consent and well you'd gotten dressed in front of the entire crew before so you figured why not and pulled the tank over your head and tossed it to the floor along with your pants.

"Fuckin hell" he muttered and you cut your eyes at him "Something wrong Butch?" He rolled his eyes "The heat is diabolical" you nodded, closing your eyes as the fan rotated in a pitiful attempt to cool your bodies "I'm tempted to go sleep in the tub but either I'd wake up pruney or Frenchie would toss ice cubes in for shits and giggles"

"That's an idea" Butcher mumbled so you cut one eye at him "What?" He just smirked and got out of bed. He glanced back over his shoulder before stepping into the hall.

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A few minutes later Butcher walked back into the room carrying a plastic bowl and sat it down on the nightstand "How bad do you want to cool down?" Ok that made you curious "Pretty bad but not sell my soul bad" he smirked but this one was one of those that made your stomach flip. "Cmere luv, let me help ya out"

He sat down on the bed and leaned back against the wall before patting between his legs. You worried your bottom lip with your teeth for a second before moving over and getting comfortable with your back against his chest "How's this supposed to help" "Trust me" "Said the devil to Cain"

"Funny" he leaned up to grab something out of the bowl then told you to close your eyes. "I will stab you if you fuck with me Billy" you warned and he chuckled "Love a woman that doesn't mind a little maiming"

----------

You closed your eyes and after a moment felt something cold hit your neck. A light gasp escaped you but as it moved further down your neck with Billy's fingers working to ease the muscles trying to tense from the cold a moan slipped from your lips from the pure relief the cold brought to your heated skin.

"Sounds like you're enjoying yourself so far" he teased and you wiggled closer into his chest "I didn't exactly say stop" "You're fucking bossy" he scoffed before grabbing another ice cube out of the bowl and continuing down your chest. When his large hand cupped your breast, teasing the sensitive mound with the ice, your breathing quickened just a bit.

His mouth was close enough to your ear you could feel his lips brush your skin when he whispered "Want to keep going?" You turned to look at him, your lips brushing lightly against his as you spoke "Please"

He moved the ice to his left hand to free up the right one to grip your chin "I got ya" he spoke right before the ice teased across your other breast, making you arch into his touch "Fuck Butcher" the relief from the heat was beginning to mix with the pleasure from him teasing your now hardened nipple with his fingertips.

He leaned closer and you met his lips halfway. The kiss was tentative, teasing but made you moan lightly when he rolled his tongue against yours. You felt his fingers dip under your panties, the cold sting of the ice prickling goosebumps up onto your skin.

He broke the kiss and you knew from the look he gave you that he was asking for the go ahead so you let your legs fall apart further "Glad this place didn't have air conditioning" he chuckled as his fingers slipped down further.

You walked out of the bathroom the next morning, dressed in a pair of shorts and a tshirt. You were looking for your sneakers and Frenchie because he could do pretty decent dutch braids.

You walked into the kitchen and Hughie cut his eyes up at you over his cup of orange juice as Annie said "How'd you sleep?" You felt like you were missing the joke but you shrugged "As well as I could with the heat" Frenchie laughed from his place at the stove "I'm sure it was hotter with Butcher on top of you"

You felt your cheeks warm as they all started laughing even Kimiko and MM. Just when you thought it couldn't get worse Butcher walked in behind you "Who said I was the one on top?"

#billy butcher smut #billy butcher x female reader #billy butcher x you #billy butcher x reader #the boys fanfic

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130bratzdoll · 25 days ago

Text

“Dirty desires”

LN4

Warnings; smut, dirty talk, rough sex, 18+ language, spanking, public sex, choking, jealous lando.

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The relationship between you and Lando Norris has always been complicated. Growing up, you knew him because he was practically glued to your brother, Max Fewtrell. Max and Lando were inseparable, always up to something—whether it was racing, pranking, or just hanging out. And because of that, Lando was always around, just as much a part of your life as Max was

But Lando? He was different with you. Sometimes he’d be sweet, flashing you that charming smile that made your heart skip a beat, joking around with you like he really cared. But other times, he was an absolute dick, teasing you, getting under your skin, and acting like you didn’t matter. It was confusing. Annoying. Yet, there was something about him that always drew you in, no matter how much you tried to ignore it.

It didn’t help that Lando loved to flirt with you, pushing boundaries that left you feeling hot and bothered, but he never took it seriously—at least, not that you could tell. He’d say something suggestive, catch your reaction, and then walk away with that smug grin. It was like a game to him, and you hated how much it got to you. But that’s just who Lando was. Unpredictable. Infuriating. And yet, impossible to resist.

Max, on the other hand, had always been protective of you. Ever since you were kids, he’d made it clear that Lando was off-limits. “He’s a player,” Max would say, almost like a broken record. “Don’t fall for his charm, because he’ll break your heart.” And as much as you rolled your eyes at your brother’s warnings, you knew he was just looking out for you. He meant well.

But Max didn’t know how complicated things really were. How Lando’s mixed signals drove you insane, or how the tension between you two kept building every time you were alone. And no matter how hard you tried to follow Max’s advice, there was always that little voice in your head wondering, What if?

────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──

It was Lando’s last weekend before the race break ended, and, unsurprisingly, he was out clubbing again. That’s kind of his thing, really. Clubbing, golfing, and—let’s be real—low-key being a man whore. You weren’t even planning to go out tonight, perfectly content to stay in, but Max’s girlfriend, P, insisted you join them. Said it’d be “so much fun” and you “needed a night out.”

So, that’s how you ended up here, in some packed Monaco club, the music thumping so hard it rattled your chest. You glanced at your phone. Wait, it’s 11 PM already? Christ… You swore you’d only be out for an hour or two. But between P’s enthusiasm and the relentless energy of this place, time had slipped away.

It didn’t help that, somewhere across the dance floor, you knew Lando was around. Probably surrounded by girls, flashing that same cocky grin, like he owned the place. Typical. You hadn’t seen him yet tonight, but you knew it was only a matter of time before he found you. He always did.

Throughout your conversation with P, she kept glancing around, clearly distracted. “I’m gonna go find Max,” she finally said with a quick smile, leaving you standing there with a sigh. Great. Now you were alone, left with nothing but the pounding music, your thoughts, and the drink in your hand—a drink that was practically empty. Ugh.

You glanced at the half-melted ice cubes clinking at the bottom of the glass and rolled your eyes. Typical. Of course, P would ditch you the moment you started to feel like maybe tonight wouldn’t be so bad. Now, you were stuck in this crowded club with no one to talk to and no Lando in sight yet either—not that you were particularly looking for him.

You let out a sigh, deciding the only way to salvage this night was to head to the bar. If you were going to make it through, you definitely needed more drinks. As you weaved through the crowd, you were barely paying attention when you suddenly collided with someone. Of course. Dumbass, you cursed yourself as you almost tripped, bracing for impact with the floor.

Before you could hit the ground, though, a pair of hands grabbed you—one on your back, the other steadying your waist. “Woah, careful there,” the guy said, his voice smooth as he helped you find your balance. You were quick to apologize, cheeks burning with embarrassment, but he just gave you an easy smile like it was no big deal.

Your eyes flicked up to meet the man who had caught you. Brunette hair, brown eyes, and on the smaller side—kind of your typical guy. But as you took a moment to study his face, you realized he wasn’t that bad-looking. His eyebrow quirked up, a little chuckle escaping his lips as he gave you a teasing grin.

“You good there?” he asked, amusement clear in his voice.

You quickly shook your head, letting out an awkward chuckle. “Sorry, sorry,” you mumbled, cheeks flushing with embarrassment. The guy tilted his head slightly, still smiling.

“Theo,” he said, offering his name casually.

You frowned for a second, confused, before it clicked. Dumbass, he’s telling you his name. Your face only got redder as you tried to play it off smoothly. “Y/n,” you introduced yourself, hoping he didn’t notice how flustered you were.

What started as a small interaction with Theo quickly turned into casual small talk. Before you knew it, he was being overly flirty, his hand lingering a little too long on your waist and his laughter coming a bit too easily. You didn’t mind, though. It felt nice to have a change for one night, a distraction from everything else.

But across the bar, Lando was watching. You could feel his gaze burning into you, and let’s just say he didn’t look too pleased. The easygoing vibe he had earlier was gone, replaced by a tense irritation as he took in the sight of you chatting and laughing with Theo.

Lando watched as Theo’s hand rested possessively on your waist, leaning in close to whisper in your ear. The sight of you giggling at whatever dirty things he was saying made his blood boil. That should be me, he thought, a wave of irritation washing over him. The playful banter you shared with Theo felt like a punch to the gut, and Lando couldn’t shake the feeling of jealousy creeping in.

As his friends droned on about irrelevant topics, Lando found it hard to concentrate on anything but your laughter. He tightened his grip on his drink, knuckles going white as one of his friends noticed his growing agitation. “You good?”

“Just peachy,” he snapped, barely registering the question. He finished his drink in one swift motion, the bitter taste fueling his frustration. Fuck this. He slammed the empty cup onto the bar, pushing past his friends and weaving through the crowd. He had to get to you before he lost his mind.

Lando quickly made his way to you and Theo, his irritation bubbling just below the surface. You were deep in conversation, laughter spilling from your lips as Theo leaned in a little too close for comfort. Lando couldn’t hold back any longer. “What are you doing?” he asked, trying to sound casual, but the tension in his voice betrayed him.

You and Theo halted mid-conversation, confusion etched on your face. Theo appeared surprised, his eyebrows raised in a mix of curiosity and amusement.

“What?” you nearly scoffed, a hint of defiance in your tone. Why does he care? “I’m just talking…?”

Lando would love to say he was just fine! But no. Your words and that goddamn attitude were driving him up the wall.

Without a second thought, he scoffed, reaching out and roughly grabbing your arm, not caring at all what Theo thought. “We’re leaving,” he hissed, the irritation in his voice unmistakable.

You winced at the harsh grip he had on your arm, the suddenness of it catching you off guard. You didn’t even have a chance to protest as he pulled you through the crowd, weaving past people who barely noticed the storm brewing between you. Lord forbid Max sees this.

Lando finally pulled you into the dimly lit bathroom of the club, dragging you toward the empty unisex stall. The door clicked shut behind you, the echo of the lock sliding into place amplifying the tension between you two.

“What the fuck, Lando!” you snapped, trying to wriggle free from his grip. But before you could escape, he slammed you back against the locked door, the impact leaving you breathless.

“What the fuck are you playing at, huh?” he hissed, his eyes blazing with frustration. The club music barely there from being so far away now.

You almost scoffed at Lando’s behavior, confusion mixing with annoyance. Why’s he acting like this? Your eyes scanned him, taking in the way his chest heaved with frustration, a tension radiating from him that was hard to ignore.

You frowned at him, trying to mask the unease swirling in your stomach. “What is your fucking problem, Norris?”

Unfortunately, your words only fueled his anger. In one swift motion, he grabbed both of your wrists with one hand, pinning them above your head against the door. The sudden movement left you breathless, a mix of adrenaline and disbelief coursing through you.

“What’s my problem?” he spat, his voice low and intense. “You mean why are you being such a slut?” The accusation hung heavily in the air, shocking you into silence as you stared into his fierce eyes.

Before you could get another word out, before you could question Lando's erratic behavior, he pressed his body against yours, effectively trapping you against the door. The heat radiating off him was overwhelming, and your heart raced in response. He looked you up and down, a scoff escaping his lips as he took in your short outfit.

"What the hell are you wearing?" he murmured, the disbelief laced with frustration.

Then, leaning in closer, his breath hot against your ear, he whispered, "Now do you think I feel, huh? Watching you have him all over your slutty body?" The words dripped with possessiveness, Your breath caught in your throat, the intensity of the moment crashing over you like a wave.

Your eyes darted over Lando's face, searching for some hint of the boy you knew beneath the anger. But as his gaze locked onto yours, your cheeks flushed hot with embarrassment. Shit, you thought, feeling a sudden wetness forming in your panties that you couldn't ignore. No matter how hard you tried to deny it, the heat pooling in your core betrayed you.

You instinctively crossed one leg over the other, clenching your thighs together in a desperate attempt to regain control. But Lando noticed-his eyes flicking down to your legs before snapping back up to meet your gaze with a smirk that sent a jolt through you.

With a swift movement, he pushed your legs apart, pressing his knee firmly against your panties. The contact made your breath hitch, and you could feel every nerve ending in your body screaming for attention.

He leaned in, placing a feather-light kiss against your neck, igniting a fire within you. The warmth of his lips lingered as he leaned closer, his breath sending shivers down your spine. "Think someone needs a proper fucking," he whispered, his voice dripping with desire, and suddenly the line between anger and lust blurred in the heat of the moment.

The only sound that escaped your lips was a weak whine, your body betraying you with a desperate need you couldn't ignore. "We're really going to fuck here?

What if someone hears us?" you managed to stammer, your heart racing as you registered the wild idea of being caught. But deep down, you knew your body was screaming for it-screaming to be filled up, to feel the thrill of the moment consume you entirely.

lips curled into a knowing smirk, his gaze burning into yours with an intensity that made you shiver. "Let them hear," he replied, his voice low and husky, dripping with confidence.

"You're mine right now, and I want you to feel how much I need you."

With those words, all rational thought slipped away, leaving only the heat of desire coursing through your veins. The world outside the bathroom faded, and all that mattered was the two of you, the thrill of the risk, and the insatiable craving igniting.

You gasped as Lando suddenly pressed his knee harder into your panties, the pressure sending shockwaves of pleasure shooting through you. He began to move his knee in slow, teasing circles, each motion igniting a fire that spread through your entire body.

"Lando," you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper, a mix of surprise and undeniable need.

"Shh," he murmured, his voice a low growl as he leaned closer, his warm breath ghosting over your skin. "I know."

Not being able to take it any longer, you leaned in as Lando drew closer, your lips brushing against his in a tentative yet eager kiss. The moment your mouths connected, he released your wrists, allowing your hands to drop. You seized the opportunity, grabbing his face to pull him in closer, craving the taste of him with a needy, sloppy kiss.

Lando responded instantly, one hand finding its place on your waist, anchoring you against him as he deepened the kiss. His fingers dug into your skin, pulling you flush against him, the heat radiating between your bodies igniting a primal hunger.

As the kiss deepened, Lando's grip on your waist tightened, pulling you even closer. You felt the heat radiating off his body, overwhelming you in the best way possible. The urgency of the moment heightened as he tilted his head, allowing his lips to explore yours with a mix of tenderness and raw desire.

But then, just as you thought it couldn't get any more intense, Lando's free hand moved to your throat. His fingers wrapped around it gently yet

possessively, and you felt a shiver run down your spine. It was a bold move, one that sent your heart racing and ignited a spark of thrill within you.

"God, you're driving me wild," he whispered against your lips, his voice husky and low. The sensation of his hand around your throat made you feel both vulnerable and exhilarated, heightening every kiss and every brush of his lips.

You could feel the heat pooling in your core as Lando pressed himself against you, the firmness of his body against yours intensifying the moment. You couldn't help but let out a soft moan, feeling the way he controlled you yet made you feel completely free at the same time.

With his grip on your throat, Lando pulled you to the sink, his urgency palpable. He pressed you against the cool surface, lifting you effortlessly and positioning you just right. The moment he pulled away, a thin string of saliva connected your lips, lingering like an unspoken promise of what was to come.

Without hesitation, Lando leaned down, pressing his lips to your neck. He trailed sloppy kisses down the delicate skin, each one sending a thrill through your body. You tilted your head back, letting out a soft moan as his warm breath danced against your skin. Your fingers tangled in his soft hair, urging him on as he worked his way lower.

Looking up at you from your neck, he captured your gaze, his lips still pressed against you as he began to suck, marking you with a hickey that would surely raise questions later. The sensation was intoxicating, and you could feel a flush creeping up your cheeks, only intensified by his other hand pushing your thighs apart.

His fingers quickly found the waistband of your panties, and with one swift motion, he ripped them off, the fabric tearing away to reveal your already soaked pussy. You gasped as the cool air hit you, sending a wave of sensation coursing through your body. The mix of excitement and vulnerability was electrifying, leaving you breathless and eager for more.

Lando's lips left your neck, a trail of heat in their wake as he pulled you away from the sink. With a swift, practiced motion, he turned you around, pushing you down against the cool surface. Your heart raced at the sensation, the new position leaving you even more exposed, the thrill of it all making you wetter.

You gasped at the sudden rush of feeling, your body instinctively arching as Lando pushed your skirt down just enough to reveal your bare ass. He let out a low groan at the sight, clearly enjoying the view as his cock hardened against you.

Without warning, his hand came down hard, a sharp smack landing on your ass. You jumped at the impact, a mix of surprise and pleasure shooting through you. "Lan!" You exclaimed, your voice almost too loud for the small space.

He chuckled, clearly enjoying your reaction, and his grip tightened on your hips. "You wanted this, didn't you?" he teased, his voice low and filled with that familiar confidence that made your pulse quicken.

You could barely respond, your mind racing with a whirlwind of sensations, a mix of embarrassment and excitement.

You felt his warmth against you, the promise of what was to come sending shivers down your spine.

"Just let go," he urged, his breath hot against your ear. "I'll make you feel so good."

You almost whimpered at his words, feeling yourself getting even more wet.

Why were you so needy for your brother's best friend? The thought sent a thrill through you, heightening your desperation. You needed this—needed him.

"Lando, please," you whined, the plea escaping your lips before you could stop it.

He chuckled darkly at your desperation, the sound sending shivers down your spine. "Please what?" His voice dripped with mock innocence, but the heat in his tone betrayed his intentions.

"You want me to give you what you want?"

"Y-You know what I want," you stammered, your heart racing as you pressed your hips back against him, craving the contact. Every second that passed only intensified the ache between your thighs.

"Dol?" he asked, his breath warm against your ear. "Maybe you should ask me nicely."

With that, he suddenly yanked you back against him, his grip fierce as he pressed his hips into your ass. "You want it, then beg for it," he commanded, his voice low and rough.

You could feel the tension building, every nerve ending alive with anticipation as you turned your head slightly to meet his gaze. "Lando..." you whispered, your voice shaky yet defiant. "I need you. Now."

"Not good enough," he growled, his grip tightening on your hips as he pulled you back harder against him. "I want to hear you say it, beg for it like the little slut you are."

"Lando, please... I need you to fuck me," you finally admitted, the words tumbling out in a breathless rush.

"Now we're getting somewhere," he said, a predatory smile spreading across his face. He quickly used one hand to unbuckle his belt, the sound echoing through the small bathroom. you looked away, biting your lip.

Lando quickly pushed his pants down just enough, along with his boxers. His cock painfully hard, he gave it a couple strokes. The tip leaking precum.

He leaned in close, his lips brushing your ear as he whispered, "Just remember, you asked for this."

He positioned himself at your entrance, With a swift thrust, he filled you completely, a gasp escaping your lips as he claimed you in one powerful motion. It was easy to slide in all the way with how wet you were.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he grunted, beginning to move with a ferocity that took your breath away.

Your head dropped forward from the force of Lando's sudden thrust, but he wasn't having any of it. With a swift motion, he gripped your hip tightly with one hand and leaned forward, pressing his back against your chest. The shift in position forced your head up, and you gasped as he wrapped his firm hand around your throat, applying just enough pressure to make your pulse race.

"Look at yourself when I fuck you," he commanded, his voice a low growl that sent shivers down your spine.

Your eyes met his in the mirror, the sight of him behind you-his expression a mix of lust and dominance-made your heart race even faster. You could see the way his muscles tensed, the sheer intensity radiating off him as he drove into you again, deeper and harder. Skin slapping against skin in the bathroom, the bathroom was filled with nothing but wet noises. And landos panting.

Every thrust of Lando sent jolts of pleasure coursing through you, the sound of his skin slapping against yours filling the tiny bathroom. You pressed your lips together, desperately trying to stifle your moans, knowing that you were in a public place. But it was impossible to contain the sensations building within you as he drove deeper, hitting that spot inside you that made your vision blur.

“Shh,” he murmured against your ear, his breath hot and ragged. “Don’t want anyone hearing how good you feel, do we?”

You shook your head, your body responding eagerly to each of his powerful thrusts. His hand on your hip held you in place, fingers digging into your skin as he began to pound into you with relentless force. The way he filled you completely, stretching you to your limits, made you feel both vulnerable and alive. You could hardly think, the world outside the bathroom fading away as all your focus shifted to the pleasure he was giving you.

“Look at yourself,” he commanded, tightening his grip around your throat again. The pressure was intoxicating, making your heart race and your body respond even more fervently to him. The heat of his body against yours, coupled with the firmness of his hold, created a heady mix of sensations that sent shivers down your spine.

You caught sight of your reflection in the mirror—your flushed cheeks, your disheveled hair, the way your body reacted to him with every thrust. It was an image of pure lust, and the realization only heightened your arousal.

“Do you like it when I fuck you like this?” he growled, his voice thick with desire as he increased his pace, his hips driving into you with a primal urgency.

“Yes, Lando! I love it!” you gasped, unable to hold back your moans any longer. You bit your lip to keep quiet, but the sounds of pleasure slipped past your guard.

“Good,” he replied, his lips curling into a smirk. “Then let’s see how quiet you can be.”

He shifted his weight, pressing you down further against the cool surface of the sink. The sensation of the hard porcelain against your body contrasted with the warmth radiating from him, the duality driving you wild. His thrusts became more frantic, each powerful motion sending waves of pleasure radiating through you. The tightening in your core warned you that you were close, your body begging for release.

“Feel that?” he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. “That’s me. You’re mine. All mine.”

“Lando, I’m so close,” you moaned, the words spilling from your lips before you could stop them.

“Not yet,” he hissed, pulling back slightly before slamming back into you. The force of his movements made you gasp, your fingers gripping the edge of the sink as your legs shook from the intensity. “I want to feel you come around me, but not until I say so.”

The frustration mixed with desire only made the heat pooling in your belly swell, and you could hardly contain yourself. The air was thick with tension, the sound of your breaths mingling with the slapping of skin, echoing off the bathroom walls.

“Lando,” you pleaded, your voice barely above a whisper as your body betrayed you, craving that sweet release. “Please…”

“Please what?” he taunted, his voice low and teasing. He thrust harder, each movement sending you closer to the edge. “You need to ask for it.”

“Please let me come,” you gasped,

"Look at yourself," he growled again, his voice laced with dominance. "You're such a dirty girl, getting all wet for me like this. How does it feel to be fucked by your brother's best friend?"

You could hardly respond, your head spinning with desire. The heat pooling in your belly threatened to ignite as he continued to pound into you.

"Answer me," he demanded, pulling you back further against him, forcing your eyes to meet your reflection in the mirror. "I want to hear you say it."

"It feels... so good," you managed to whimper, your voice shaky as you struggled to maintain your composure.

"I need more, Lando."

"More?" he repeated, a wicked smile spreading across his face. "You want more, huh? You're going to have to beg for it, then."

You felt a rush of heat wash over you, his commanding tone igniting something deep within. "Please, Lando. I need it. I need you," you begged, desperation lacing your voice.

"That's my girl," he smirked, his thrusts growing harder and faster, each one hitting deeper inside you. The sensation was intoxicating, and the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the air, mingling with your soft moans. He leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, "You're so fucking tight. I could stay buried inside you forever."

As Lando's thrusts became more frantic, he could feel the pressure building within him, matching the intensity of your own climax. Your bodies moved in perfect rhythm, a desperate dance of pleasure and desire.

"Fuck, I'm gonna-" he gasped, his grip tightening around your waist as he thrust deeper, chasing that sweet release.

"Me too, Lando!" you cried out, your breath coming in ragged gasps, every nerve ending alive with sensation.

With one final, powerful thrust, you both tumbled over the edge together.

Lando released deep inside you, his body shuddering against yours as you felt the heat spread within. At the same time, waves of pleasure crashed over you, and you moaned his name as you surrendered to the bliss coursing through you.

As Lando's thrusts slowed, he remained buried deep inside you, feeling the warmth of his release fill you completely. The sensation sent a jolt of pleasure through your body, causing you to shudder as the aftershocks rolled over you.

The remnants of his cum mixed with yours, dripping down your thighs in a sticky, delicious mess, making your already ruined panties feel like a distant memory. They hung in tatters around your legs, forgotten in the heat of the moment. Lando barely glanced at them, too lost in the haze of satisfaction and the sight of you.

He pulled out slowly, watching as his cum followed, trickling down your thighs, a visible reminder of the wild encounter you just shared. "Look at you," he murmured, a smirk playing on his lips, "so fucking hot like this."

Breathless, you looked down at the mess between your legs, a mix of embarrassment and exhilaration flooding through you. "Is this how you treat all the girls you have fun with?" you teased, trying to regain some semblance of control.

Lando chuckled, leaning closer to you, his breath hot against your ear. "Only the ones who drive me crazy," he replied, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "And you, love, are something else entirely."

You couldn't help but roll your eyes playfully, but deep down, you knew he was right. The thrill of the night, the heat between you, it was all worth it.

────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──

#lando norris smut #lando norris #f1 smut #smut #lando x reader #lando x you #lando imagine #bd/sm kink #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 x you #mclaren #Spotify

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seoulmatez · 2 months ago

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— 𝒸𝑜𝓈𝓂𝑜𝓅𝑜𝓁𝒾𝓉𝒶𝓃 ౨ৎ

miya atsumu x f!reader. 3.1k wc. ﾉ all characters are 21+ ﾉ nsfw ( MDNI! ) ﾉ bartender!atsumu ﾉ college au ﾉ dubcon ( via alcohol consumption ) ﾉ mentions of f!masturbation ﾉ fingering ﾉ cunnilingus ﾉ protected sex ( but mentions of creampie ) ﾉ repost from an old blog!

bartender!atsumu who only picked up the job because he thought the extra cash would be nice—after all, tuition is expensive. and it’s easy—making tips that is. he’s not ashamed to admit that ladies and men alike are naturally drawn to him. all he has to do to ensure that the women who frequent the establishment leave behind a generous amount of cash is send them a couple of flirty winks and tell ‘em how pretty their makeup is. it’s just as easy with his male patrons; nod along and mumble a “yeah man” every now and then and he’s sure to go home with more than he makes in his hourly wage for the night. he never puts too much thought into his behavior or lets his attention linger on any certain person for too long, that is, until you come along.

bartender!atsumu who’s rendered speechless when he turns around to tend to your call. the glass he’s working to dry off nearly slips from his hold before he regains his composure. it’s silly—letting down his guard like that, and so easily, too—but anyone would if they found themselves in his position. even under the dim lights, he can tell that you’re beautiful. there’s a playful sparkle in your eye and he can’t help but hone in on the glossy lip you have pulled between your teeth. he has to remind himself where he is and what he’s meant to be doing. a charming smile quickly finds its way to his face as he slings the cloth over his shoulder and asks what he can get for you.

bartender!atsumu who pulls out all of his best tricks to leave a lasting impression on you. sure, he’ll show off every now and then for other customers, but it’s always mindless—muscle memory. with you on the other side of the counter, he feels the need to make an active effort in his display of flair. spinning and flipping bottles by the neck and tossing ice cubes from one mixer to another warrants cheers from patrons across the bar. throughout all of it, not a single drop of liquid hits the surface between you. when he slides you the product of his labor—the well-crafted cosmopolitan—you clap for the little show he put on just for you. it’s hard to ignore his erratic heartbeat and the way the tips of his ears heat up at your praise. he’s almost disappointed when you don’t stick around at the bar, taking the drink and wandering off to regroup with your friends. he’s almost disappointed because before you part ways, you turn around and smile at him—a smile he knows he’ll never be able to forget.

bartender!atsumu who spends the majority of his shift thinking about how much he wants to hike up that pretty dress of yours—not that it needs to be tugged up significantly higher; it’s already quite short as is. it makes him wonder who you’re trying to look so sexy for. he’s just some employee at the club you frequent but embers of irritation simmer from within at the thought of you dressing up for anyone else but him. he’s able to reel himself back in—escape from the grasp of the green-eyed monster—by finding solace in other thoughts like what kind of panties you have hidden beneath the skimpy fabric. are you wearing any at all? it takes the impatient snapping from an annoyed customer who has been trying to get his attention for atsumu to snap out of it, but his mind always wanders back to you.

bartender!atsumu who quickly learns to look forward to weekends when he knows he’ll be able to see you. it’s a shame that he can only expect you on the most lively days when he’s the busiest, but despite his hectic workload, he still finds time to steal fleeting glances of you dancing with your friends. he’s shocked when he looks up to find you and you’re already staring back at him. did you feel his gaze on you? he thought he was being subtle but you seem to have caught on quickly. and instead of ignoring him, instead of spinning around falling back into the rhythm of the music, you stray from the bunch, pushing past the sea of sweaty bodies until you’re sliding onto the stool right in front of him. you order your usual cosmopolitan and sit back while he prepares it. this time is different from the others, though, because this time, you stay.

bartender!atsumu who uses the dumb party trick he perfected over multiple frat parties to impress you—cherry stem tying. it’s silly and childish but when you ask him if he could, he can’t come up with a valid reason not to show you. and maybe he shouldn’t be using bar inventory for personal affairs—he never has in the past—but you seem to draw out a side of him that he’s unfamiliar with, one where he hangs on your every word. feeling your intent gaze on his lips as he works his tongue to loop the thin stalk around itself is nearly enough to make him lose focus—fumble. when he sticks his tongue out the reveal the tight knot, you let out an exaggerated gasp; almost as if he’d been lying when he told you he could do it easily. he smirks, you know what they say about it; anyone who can is surely a good kisser. nothing could have prepared him for your response; maybe i should test to see if it’s true myself.

bartender!atsumu who thinks that he’s never felt more frustrated in his life than he does at this very moment. and sure, maybe he shouldn’t be openly flirting with patrons while on the clock, but is the world truly cruel enough to cut your interaction short just before he’s able to see if you’re bluffing? it’s unfair to blame the unfortunate turn of events on the world when the real culprit is standing right beside you. he figures it must be one of your friends, though, he can’t be sure considering you’re the only face he can pick out in a crowd. one thing he is 100% sure about is that the girl clinging onto your arm and telling you that she’s ready to go is a major cockblock. he has no right to feel as annoyed as he does when you give in to the woman’s request, pulling out your purse to pay the tab. the feeling doesn’t fade when you lay out the amount you owe and more because he doesn’t want money from you, he wants something else. but, to his surprise, the crisp bills aren’t the only thing you leave for him on the counter; a napkin soaked through with ink scrawling out a sequence of ten numbers and a messy heart accompanies the cash. he looks up to meet your eye and before your friend drags you away, you’re able to disclose your intentions; text me when your shift is over.

bartender!atsumu who thanks his lucky stars that his coworker who was scheduled to take care of closing shows up on time. he’s never been more eager to ditch his waist apron and get from behind the counter. ideally, he’d stop at home to freshen up, to wash off the sticking scent of liquor and sweat. but when he shoots you the message that he’s free for the night and you respond by sending him an address, making a detour to his place is the last thing he wants to do. and he thinks, what’s the point if he’s going to end up needing another shower later anyway? so instead of making a left a the light that would take him home, he follows the directions the gps spouts and turns right.

bartender!atsumu who feels like his heart might just beat out of his chest as he raps his knuckles against your door. he’s not usually so self-conscious before hook-ups but something about you makes him nervous. and not in a negative sense, no, not at all. it’s difficult to describe—what’s different about this time compared to the others, but a nagging thought in the back of his head tells him that he knows exactly what it is. something sets you apart from the others and deep down, he knows that at some point, lust has grown from an inkling of something more.

bartender!atsumu who certainly doesn’t expect to see you in the same dress from earlier when you finally swing the door open. he swallows the lump in his throat to keep from gaping. it’s pathetic, he thinks, being so out of sorts when he’d seen you in that very outfit only a couple of hours ago but the light emanating throughout your living room was much brighter than those in the club—he can see much more now. he can see the way the color of the fabric compliments your skin. he can see that the dress is abundantly tighter than he thought—it hugs the curves of your hips and contours your breasts. he would have ogled your body longer if it wasn’t for your arm on his bicep, ushering him into your apartment. it’s embarrassing how that little touch can cause his blood to rush south and leave his pants feeling uncomfortably tight.

bartender!atsumu who can’t hide how stunned he is at the fact that your lips are touching his. they’re soft, even softer than they look. once he’s over his initial shock, his hands find their way to your waist and he kisses you back. it’s dizzying and he wants to blame it on the lingering taste of vodka and cranberry but he knows that’s not it—you’re intoxicating. the slow pace of the kiss shifts when your tongue runs along his lower lip in a plea for him to let you in. he obeys, parting his lips. your tongue swirls and dances with his, pressing so hard into his mouth that your teeth nearly clash against his. he’s lightheaded and his brain is telling him he needs air but all he thinks he needs right now is you. he has to physically refrain himself from whimpering when you pull away, a string of saliva following you. it breaks when you boost yourself up on the tips of your toes so that your mouth is right beside his ear. the warmth of your breath tickles and he would have flinched if it wasn’t for the single word you whispered: bedroom.

bartender!atsumu who finally, finally gets to do what he’s been thinking about for the past few weeks. your restlessness is palpable as he slowly unzips your dress. he pushes the straps aside and presses a light kiss to each of your shoulders before gripping either side of the dress, tugging it down to reveal your tits. he watches as your nipples pebble at the exposure to the cool air. he’s tempted to roll one between his fingers, to pop one in his mouth, but he doesn’t. he has more pressing matters to attend to. your dress drags lower and lower, displaying more and more skin with each yank. he’s kneeling now, face-to-face with your crotch as he continues to pull the dress down your body. the fabric hits the floor and he almost laughs to himself—you weren’t wearing any panties.

bartender!atsumu who gently nudges you back so that you’re lying comfortably on the bed. he pushes your knees apart so he can get a good look at you. and if you had been wearing panties, you surely would have soaked through them. had you been touching yourself before he arrived? were you so needy that you couldn’t wait for him? or maybe the heated kiss from down the hall was enough to turn you on to the point of nearly dripping. regardless of what had gotten you so wet, he sucks in a breath at the sight. his fingers draw up to spread your glistening lips apart and a thin layer of your essence is left behind on them. everything in him is telling him to stick the fingers in his mouth so he could get a taste but he holds back. if he’s going to taste you, he has to do so properly.

bartender!atsumu who can’t help but moan into your sex when his tongue flattens and runs up the slit, only stopping when he meets the nub of nerves at your apex. he flicks it with his tongue and huffs out a short laugh at the surprised gasp that slips past your lips. your reaction encourages him to continue and he does until he catches sight of your hole clenching around nothing. he’s not quite ready to come up from between your legs but he isn’t so inhumane that he’d leave you hanging. one of his hands abandons its place on your thigh, two fingers collecting your slick before pushing into your gummy walls.

it’s lewd—the sound that fills the room as his fingers rhythmically pump in and out of you, his mouth latched and sucking on your clit. when you begin to squirm and whimper, a telltale sign of your impending orgasm, his tongue and fingers trade places. he’d much rather feel you come in his mouth. his wet muscle delves into your dripping cunt while his thumb presses circles against the sensitive nub. your legs tighten around his head and your hands frantically tug at his hair as you continue to climb the stairs to your climax. the taut coil in your tummy finally snaps, drawing a shaky gasp from your throat. your back arches as pleasure washes over you, the man between your thighs still languidly lapping at your folds.

bartender!atsumu who pulls himself away from your cunt to reveal the mess of spit and your release left behind on the lower half of his face. you’re still lying on your back when you speak up, telling him you’d like to return the favor. and while the thought of you on your knees, eyes wide and peering up at him as your lips work his cock is one that’s undeniably enticing, the man doesn’t think he can wait any longer. and you don’t explicitly say so, but he’s sure that neither his tongue nor his fingers are enough to satiate you.

undressing is a blur that comes and goes quickly—his shirt gets tossed somewhere on the floor and his belt doesn’t make it out of the loops before his slacks and boxers are pushed down to and off his feet. his heavy, hard cock slaps against his stomach the moment it’s freed from its confines. the tip is a rosy shade of red and leaking with precum. you must have busied yourself while he was ridding himself of his clothes because when he looks up to ask whether you have protection, you’re already holding a small, shiny foil square out to him. he accepts the condom, carefully tearing open the foil with his teeth. he gives himself a few swift strokes before sheathing his length with the rubber and sending you a look that silently asks for confirmation.

bartender!atsumu who pushes himself past your tight ring of muscles, slowly, inch by inch with a low groan, his hold tensing on your waist the deeper he reaches. you whine at the stretch—he makes you feel so full, stuffed to the brink. his generosity doesn’t go unnoticed—stilling so you can adjust to his size—but you need more and you tell him so by wriggling restlessly. he smiles at your impatience, caressing your sides with his thumbs before withdrawing, only to forcefully drive into you. the moan you let out is near-pornographic and you have no time to recover from the particularly powerful thrust before he’s setting an unrelenting tempo. it’s simultaneously too much and not enough and even though you’re too fucked out to decipher what you’re saying, you’re sure the indecipherable babbles are begs for more. and as much as he’d like to comply, rutting his hips comes as a difficult task when your walls are clenching around him so tightly.

so, instead, he settles for bringing a thumb down to your swollen clit, pressing harsh circles against the sensitive bud. the extra stimulation sends you over the edge, your eyes rolling back and tremors racking throughout your body as a result of your orgasm. and he almost comes with you, his hips desperately rocking into you as he chases his high. his thrusts are sloppy and rushed, hushed moans accompanying the lewd squelching that echoes throughout the room. it only takes a few more deep plunges before he’s stilling and sucking in a sharp breath, his seed spilling into the condom.

bartender!atsumu who struggles to catch his breath as he pulls his softened cock out of you. it’s a shame, really, seeing his cum pooled in a condom instead of oozing out of you. thoughts of what it would be like to fuck you raw invade his mind. what would it feel to be swallowed by your warmth, to feel your arousal soaking his length? how much better would your uncontrollable spasms feel without the protective barrier between you? would you be able to take it if he decided to fuck his cum back into you until he came again? the image alone is fuel that goes straight to his cock, his erection hardening once more. despite wanting nothing more than to find the answer to all of his questions, he’s content tying up the rubber and disposing of it in the waste bin beside your bed. he isn’t so satisfied at the realization that it’s time for him to leave.

bartender!atsumu who forces himself to bury the giddy feeling that threatens to show on his face when you reach out for him and tell him he can stay. he’s had a long night, you explain; where’s the harm in letting him sleep over? and he knows that that’s probably all you mean by it, but he can’t help but feel as though maybe, just maybe, this is a step in the right direction. maybe that nagging thought from before wasn’t so far off, maybe you want him as much as he wants you.

bartender!atsumu who has no idea that you’ve already saved his number in your phone with every intention of seeing him again.

thanks for reading! if u enjoyed, please consider reblogging or commenting ❤︎

#₊˚ପ⊹ signed: haikyuu #atsumu x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #atsumu x you #haikyuu x you #atsumu smut #haikyuu smut #𐙚 after hours

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domnamewoman · 1 year ago

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MK1 Characters Headcanon: What Are Their Kinks (Submissive Characters)

Characters: Liu Kang, Raiden, Kung Lao, Johnny Cage, Kenshi Takahashi, Kitana, Mileena, Tanya, Sub-Zero, Scorpion, Smoke, Reptile, Baraka, Shang Tsung, Rain

Warnings: Dom!GN!Reader, Sub!Characters, Mentions Of Multiple Kinks, Smut, 18+

Masterlist

Requests Are Open

I had to do this for all of us Doms out there. Some of these are spicier than others.

Hair Pulling/Objectification

Liu Kang likes to be reduced to nothing more than a toy for you to use as you see fit. He lives to serve you and wants you to use his body in any way that brings you pleasure. In his mind, that is his only purpose.

Tell him to lie still as you ride his abs or hump into his thigh completely ignoring his aching dick. He releases a moan as you play with his nipples, shocks of pleasure going straight to his dick with each tug and twist.

Pull his hair and his eyes roll back in pleasure, begging you to let him cum. Tighten your grip as you remind him that he is just a toy to be used for your amusement and pleasure and that if and when he cums, it will be after you have had your fill of playing with him.

Spanking/Cock Ring

Raiden craves giving you control over his orgasm. He loves the feeling of the cock ring you placed on him being nice and snug around his dick, a constant reminder that he can’t cum unless you let him. He will do anything to earn it.

Raiden usually follows the rules. It’s only when he gets the need to be thrown over your lap and spanked that he acts out. You don’t let him down during these times, giving him exactly what he wants. He smiles as he feels the first strike of your palm make contact with his plump cheeks.

Make him count the spanks out loud with the threat of starting over if he messes up. Of course, he’ll mess up on purpose just to prolong the “punishment”. By the end, he is a moaning mess as he humps your thighs asking if he can cum. You grant him permission while you remove the cock ring and give him one final blow. He’s cumming on a shout, making a mess between your thighs.

Rimming/Anal

Kung Lao is never more turned on than he is when you have your tongue swiping against his rim. It’s so intimate and he feels so connected to you when you are pleasuring him this way. Your mouth feels heavenly as you kiss and lick at his entrance.

Kung Lao lets out a whiny moan as you pour lube directly onto his hole. His breath catches as you circle him with your finger before applying pressure and it slips in with ease. Drive him crazy by slowly working him open until he is begging you to pound him into the mattress.

Spear him on your dick (real or strap) and go to town. He likes it hard and fast. Kung Lao will wrap his legs around your hips to pull you in deeper. Angle up and hit his prostate again and again and he’s almost crying, begging you to let him cum.

Praise/Oral (Giving)

Johnny Cage lives off of your praise. There is nothing that drives him more than you telling him how good he is being or how well he is doing. He constantly wants to prove to you that he is the best partner and deserving of your love.

One of the ways he does this is by giving you the best head of your life. Johnny would stay in between your legs forever if you only asked him to. There is no part of you that he doesn’t want in his mouth, front or back it doesn’t matter.

Using his mouth to draw moan after moan from you is the best kind of praise. He loves knowing that he is bringing you this much pleasure. Johnny would prefer if you sat on his face (once again, whether he is eating front or back he wants it all). He wants to be smothered by you as you use him to get off.

Shibari/Temperature Play

Kenshi Takahashi is a rope bunny through and through. He loves to be tied up in intricate designs. He finds the feeling of the rope rubbing against his skin and holding him in whatever position you desire comforting.

While he is tied up, run ice cubes over his skin and watch as he shivers both from the cold and the pleasure. Light a candle and drip hot wax over his abs and thighs. Decorate him any way you want, he is your canvas.

Have two mugs, one filled with cold water and the other with warm water. Take a big drag from one and hold the water in your mouth as you perform oral on him. Switch between warm and cold and he will be cumming in no time from the swiftly changing temperatures engulfing his dick.

Edging/Exhibitionism

Kitana loves the thrill of almost being caught. You and her will fool around in dark hallways of the palace, against a tree in the garden, anywhere that someone could possibly pass by and see if they looked hard enough.

Sit next to her at dinner and slip your hand into her panties. Circle her clit as you watch her try to keep up the conversation with the guests without faltering. Bring her close to the edge time and time again until she is sitting in a pool of her own excitement.

Lean over and whisper into her ear that she can cum only if she does it while keeping eye contact with one of the guests. Watch as she looks at Johnny and he stares back with a look of confusion. His eyes go back and forth between you two and then he smirks with realization. His knowing smirk pushes Kitana over the edge and she cums, drenching your hand.

Bondage/Toys

Mileena loves it when you tie her up, rendering her completely at your mercy. Tease her by rubbing your hands all over her body, but never the area she wants you most. Switch between a feather and a pastry wheel to lightly run over her skin increasing her sensitivity.

Mileena loves it when you use toys on her while she is tied up. Put nipple clamps on her and tug on them. Stuff a vibrator into her snuggly against her G-spot and have fun playing with the intensity. Turn it all the way up and she is pulling against the rope as waves of pleasure wash over her.

Go back to the lowest setting and work her up slowly, spending a least five minutes on each level. She will be a whimpering mess, telling you that she has been a good girl and deserves to cum. She’s right, turn it on high and grant her wish.

Oral (Receiving)/Overstimulation

Tanya loves it when you go down on her. She feels as though it's the greatest sign of trust and vulnerability to present her body for you to ravage. Laying there as you take what you want and leave her breathless.

The feeling of your tongue circling her clit and then flattening as you rub it up and down relentlessly has her back bowing and toes curling. She cries out as you add three fingers inside of her, pumping them in and out at a fast pace. She’s cumming before she knows it, head thrown back and mouth open on a silent scream.

She actually screams when you continue your ministrations, body shaking in overstimulation. She loves nothing more than you gripping her hips and forcing her to stay still. She can do nothing but lie there and take it with no way of escape.

Forced Submission/Degradation

Bi-Han desires to be broken and put into his place. As Grandmaster, he is used to people following his every command and giving him the utmost respect. He wants to submit to you but feels like his submission is something you have to earn.

He loves it when his partner overpowers him, but trust that he won’t go down without a fight. He truly is the brat of all brats. Tie him up and tease him for over an hour and he’ll be putty in your hands willing to do anything in order for you to let him cum.

Ask him what the Lin Kuei would think of him if they saw their leader begging to cum like the pathetic whore he is and watch as his dick twitches and leaks pre cum. Make him wait to cum until he has proved himself useful by pleasuring you. He would do anything you tell him to as long as he gets his reward at the end of it.

Choking/Masochism

Kuai Liang goes weak in the knees when you are rough with him. Push him against the wall, shove him to his knees, slap him. He welcomes it all. It only makes his dick throb and leak pre cum into his pants. He wants you to do him and do him hard.

Wrap your hand around his throat and squeeze and he’s almost cumming on the spot. His eyes roll back in pleasure as he struggles to get air into his lungs. Pinch and twist his nipples and his back is arching as he moans loudly. There is nothing better to him than the mix of pain and pleasure.

He loves it when you roughly jerk him off, not bothering to use any lube. It’s okay because he will be dripping pre cum soon enough. Squeeze his balls tightly in your fist. Suck him into your mouth without mercy. Be careful if you decide to use your teeth, he’ll cum without warning down your throat.

Thigh Riding/Dry Humping

Tomas adores when you let him sit in your lap, fully clothed, and grind into your thigh. There is just something about the way it makes him feel like a needy little boy who can’t be bothered to get undressed, to properly use his dick that he just can’t get enough of.

He lets out a needy groan as you stare at him with nothing but love, as you run your hands up and down his sides. The feeling of his dick rubbing against the fabric of his pants has his eyes rolling to the back of his head.

Grip his hips and force him to go faster and rub harder against your thigh and his moans won’t stop. He won’t stop telling you how good you make him feel and how lucky he is to be able to ride your thigh like this. Ask him if he is going to make a mess for you in his pants and all he can do is bite his lip and nod as he cums over your thigh.

Somnophilia/Edging

Syzoth loves letting his partner have access to him at any time of the day. That is why he is perfectly fine if you slip into bed and play with him while he is peacefully sleeping. Nothing brings him more joy than to be useful to his partner whenever they are in the mood.

He moans as he wakes up with his dick in your mouth, sucking him down skillfully. He is already close to an orgasm from all the stimulation you gave him while he was asleep. But of course, you don’t want things to end so soon, so you pull back.

Syzoth falls more in love with you as you tease him, bringing him to the edge and back down, again and again. He smiles to himself as you ignore his begging to let him cum, he doesn’t want you to. Not until he is a drooling mess.

Overstimulation/Cum Play

Baraka isn’t satisfied unless you’ve forced at least five orgasms out of him. Lying there, covered in a layer of sweat as you tug on his overused cock makes him happier as can be. His back arches as another orgasm hits him, his body shaking uncontrollably.

He begs you not to stop even now. He pleads with you to give him another. Who are you to deny him when he begs so prettily? He growls at the sting of pins and needles in his dick as you continue pumping him, twisting your fist around his tip on every upstroke.

Run your hand over his abs and collect the cum pulling there. Let him swirl his tongue around your fingers, cleaning them from every last drop. Baraka can’t stop his body from twitching as you make this orgasm count by speeding up your strokes to an almost inhuman level. He howls, back bending almost painfully as cum shoots out of his now numb cock. He wouldn’t have it any other way.

Dumbification/Humiliation

Shang Tsung loves to be broken down into nothing but a dumb, stuttering mess who can only focus on one thing, cumming. He doesn’t want to think about how to gain power or raise his position in the world, no. All he wants to think about is the pleasure you bring him.

Call him a dumb slut as you force him to reach his climax by humping against your leg like a dog. He watches as you stand over him, staring down at him with your arms crossed over your chest. He clutches onto your thigh as he grinds his dick onto your shoe.

He only goes faster, moaning as you call him a pathetic whore, no worst than a dog in heat for getting off to humping your leg. He loves it even more when you make him repeat it, humiliating himself. Spit on his face and he’s cumming harder than he ever has.

Omorashi/Watersports (I know, fight me)

Zeffeero loves the feeling of being driven to the point of desperation. There is nowhere he would rather be than sitting between your legs being encouraged by you to drink yet another glass of water while you massage his lower belly, telling him how good he is for holding on this long.

The beautiful sounds he makes as his stomach starts to cramp, begging him to release the contents of his bladder. But he won’t, not until you tell him to. He feels light-headed as he rests against your front, one of your hands rubbing his stomach, pressing into his bladder and the other shoved down his pants stroking his throbbing dick. His whimpers of, “Please,” become louder as each pass of your hand brings him closer to his climax. You finally, finally tell him to let go and all he can do is moan as his pants are drenched in a combination of his urine and cum. Let him lick your fingers clean, he’s earned it.

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