#i fear he would be so good at brat taming | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hayatoseyepatch · 6 months ago

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Description: Sometimes In the heat of the moment, you don’t always make it to the bedroom. Here’s some scenarios of some of the windbreaker boys fucking you anywhere but your bed.

Characters: Jo Togame, Toma Hiragi, Hajime Umemiya, & Haruka Sakura

Word Count: 2.7k

Tags: fem!reader, public sex, rough sex, praise, degradation, dirty talk, penetrative sex, handjobs, oral (m!receiving), hair pulling, mentions of being caught, daddy calling, brat taming, slight sub themes in Sakura’s.

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a/n: This has been sitting in my mind for quite some time so I needed to get it out of my system. Also, this is my first time writing for Hiragi so please let me know what you think, I hope I did him some justice. Anyways I hope you enjoy!

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The sound of skin slapping against skin echoes off the walls of the empty auditorium like a crescendo. Togame especially loved fucking you in the abandoned auditorium because the beautiful sounds that you made for him reverberated off the walls in such a way that made your voice carry and come straight back to his ears. Only serving to make him want you to make more. “Jo please, fuck, what if someone comes.” You whimper, the fear of being caught overwhelmed by the pleasure you were feeling from the snap of his hips.

“Then they’d get quite the show, wouldn’t they princes??” He chuckles, deep and breathy in your ear. You feel the heat rush to your cheeks in embarrassment at the thought of someone walking in on you both. Seeing Togame’s large hands gripping the plush of your waist, your body clad in nothing save for his Shishitoren jacket as he fucks you into the hard linoleum floors of the stage. His deep laughter hits your ear once more, his voice coming out in that slow drawl that always served to send a rush of heat to your cunt.

“But… judging by the way your pretty pussy just clamped down on me.. I’d say you wouldn’t mind that too much.. would you baby?”

His grin is lazy and full of mischief when he pulls away, looking down at you with half lidded eyes as he drags his cock back, leaving only the tip of himself still inside before slamming his full length back into you in one harsh thrust. He sets a brutal pace after that, effectively cutting off any argument you had against his words, corners of your vision going blurry from the overwhelming pleasure he was giving you. “Jo, fuck, please” You cry out, your voice carrying in the empty auditorium so loud it had you attempting to cover your mouth to conceal the noises you were making, afraid someone passing by would hear.

His eyes darken, hips ceasing all movement, as he looks down at you with a lifted eyebrow. You were quick to remove your hand, knowing how much he loved to hear you and knowing he would come to a full stop until he could hear you once more. “Jo, please, ‘m sorry please don’t stop” He smirks at the sound of your begging, your voice carrying once more. “Thats right doll, let me hear you. I don’t want you to hold back a single fucking sound do you understand that darling?”

The sounds of his hips slamming against yours, the noises falling from both of your lips and the squelching of your wetness as he fucks into you filling the room once more. “You hear that pretty girl? Hear how fucking wet you are for me? How sloppy your pretty cunt has gotten for me angel? So good pretty girl, so good for me, my only complaint is how wasteful it is to have you dripping like this without me down there to lap up every fucking drop of your sweetness princess.” He continues the snapping of his hips recklessly against yours. Your cries of his name egging him on every syllable you let out going straight to his cock. Sure you both could fuck in your shared bed, but where was the fun in that? Especially when the sounds you make for him echo so deliciously off these walls and only spur him on to see just how loud you could get for him.

You had brought this on yourself, you know you did, but how could you be expected to control yourself while on the back if his bike? The two of you had gone on a late night drive on his motorcycle, he always looked so sexy driving his bike, his large hands switching gears as he rested them on the handlebars. His thighs straddling the bike as he drives it with ease, weaving in and out of traffic, head tilting back every so often to make sure you were okay. It had started innocent enough, your hands placed on his chest to keep yourself steady as he drove, feeling his muscles through the fabric of his shirt. Rubbing up and down as you rested your cheek on his broad back.

But as you watched him drive, your hands slid farther south. He had given you a warning glance, one which you ignored as you let your hands continue to wander. The vibrations of the bikes engine spurring your movements. The only thing separating you from the leather were your panties, wearing a skirt that Hiragi had warned you “was not proper riding attire”. You feel his breath hitch as your hands slid to his thighs , inching closer to where a tent was starting to form in those tight pants he always wears. Your fingers eventually curled around his hardening member, the bike lurching as he was caught off guard.

That was what led you to where you were now, your hair wrapped around Hiragi’s fist, him using it as leverage to arch your back further towards him. The two of you pulled over to the side of the road in a more secluded wooded area as Hiragi has you bent over his bike, taking you from behind.

“You can never behave can you, pretty girl? Here I was just wanting to go on a nice ride with my girl, but someone couldn’t keep their hands to themselves could they?” Hiragi groans through gritted teeth. His eyes rolled back once more hearing his name slips past your lips hips bucking involuntarily as his cock head kisses your deepest parts.

Hiragi wasnt sure how much longer he would be able to remain his composure. His teeth sink into the crook of your neck, he cant control the roll of his hips at the words that slip from your lips. Cock throbbing in need. His hand is quick to slide to the inside of your thigh wishing he was able to see just how beautiful you were spread wide for him. He lets his fingers curl around your throat squeezing just enough to make gaining air flow a bit difficult, now using your throat as leverage to pull you back against him.

His sharp canines digging into the supple flesh of your neck as the thumb of his begins rubbing slow dragging circles against your puffy clit. “Take all of me princess, gonna fill you up so deep. Always so tight for me darling.” Cries of his name fall from your lips like a mantra, meeting his thrusts as best as you can, eyes rolling back from the intense pleasure. “I wanna come with you, Toma, please let me.” You whispered breathlessly as you reach the precipice of orgasm head fuzzy and thoughtless as your walls spasm around his cock.

Your release triggering his own as he paints your walls white. The two of you lean over the bike, attempting to catch your breaths. Hiragi slips from inside you, sliding your panties back in place, punctuating the action with a swift slap to your ass. “Now, lets see if we can finish this ride without me having to pull over again to take care of my needy girl, yeah?” He grins mounting the bike once more, both of you knowing this was far from over, anticipating what awaited you as you head back home.

He grins against your lips, head ducking down to take a hardened bud between his lips, tongue lolling against it, coming to a point to flick at the sensitive area before letting his teeth capture it. Pulling his head back to tug until releasing, pupils blows wide seeing the bounce of the plush flesh he was rewarded with. He was quick to give the other nipple the same treatment. Hands trailing from your ankles to your knees, forcing your legs apart further under his strong grip. He groans into your chest as he feels your hands on him hand making a trail up the inside of your thigh, thumb pressing against the hood of your clit before rubbing slow agonizing circles as he continues his attention to your nipples.

Fingers slipping from your center, he grips your panties by the waistband, expertly sliding them from your hips leaving you entirely bare before him. Fingers digging into the flesh of your ass he pulls your hips flush against his own giving an experimental roll of his hips, hardened cock rubbing against your center.

“Thats right my pretty little kitten, my perfect fucken princess.” He groaned against your skin, head ducking to your neck once more, teeth sinking into the delicate skin tongue soothing the area. Now that he was sunk completely in, he gives an experimental snap of his hips, your pleas guiding each motion of his hips. He picks up the pace, angling his hips just right to nudge that sensitive spot deep inside you.

“Go on princess wanna hear you say my name angel, bet you cant even finish it can you my pretty baby.” He teases against your skin, hips picking up their pace. His hands hook under your knees, pulling you until your ass was hanging off the desk, so he could lay you back, both of you so caught in your actions that you hadnt noticed the red light flashing on the soundboard of the desk he had laid you on in the announcement room.

He presses your knees to your chest now able to hit a much deeper angle. Groaning a long growl of your name and a slew of profanities as the sound of his hips meeting yours fills the room. “You hear that princess? How wet my cunt is for me angel, sounds like a fucken symphony kitten.” He groans against your skin, hips slamming into yours “Fuck Hajime, please, I’m close. Wanna come, please let me Daddy.”

The coil had been tight in his abdomen, but he would hold out, he wouldnt allow himself to fall over the edge before you had. He picks up the pace once more, thrusts growing sloppy under the pleasure. His thumb quickens its pace pressing harder against the bundle of nerves. “Go on on princess, come for me, wanna feel those pretty walls clamp down on my cock. Fuuck just like that kitten” His movements growing erratic as you both were nearing your highs.

Just as you were about to be thrown over the edge the sound of loud bangs on the door fill your ears, swiftly jerking you and Umemiya apart from each other. It was only moments later that you heard Hiragi’s exasperated voice ring out. “Umemiya you idiot the loudspeaker, its on you dumbass!!” Your eyes blown wide cheeks flusing deeply at the knowledge that the entore school had heard you both for gods knows how long. Umemiyas boisterous laughter is all that is heard before the intercom goes off. “Oopsies silly me, well I guess theres no question of who you belong to know is there, babygir?” The smirk that grazes his lips making you question if that was an accident at all.

“Are you outta your fucken mind?!” Comes Sakuras harsh whisper, his face a deep maroon, his lips pressed to your ear to keep the words between you both. “Hm?” You barely acknowledge him, scrolling through your phone absentmindedly. As if you hadn’t just unbuckled his pants under the table at Kotoha’s restaurant. As if you weren’t currently sat across from Nirei, Suo, and Kiryu while pulling Sakura’s semi-hard cock from his pants. As if you weren’t wrapping your delicate fingers around his length, thumb swiping his tip to collect the precoma that was starting to bubble over the head of his cock.

“Are you alright Sakura?” Nirei asks innocently, unaware of what you were inflicting upon your poor shy boyfriend. Sakura’s eyes blow wide, the attention now on him, all while you never stopped your movements. Now pumping his length slowly, careful not to move your arm too much and reveal what you were doing. Sakura for once was grateful for Suo’s teasing, his words catching the attention of the other two males sat at the table with you both. “That’s our Sakura, always so bashful, he’s probably all flustered from sitting next to his girlfriend.” He claims his signature smile resting on his face. “Why don’t we go put in our orders, give poor Sakura some time to cool down, hm?” He says, standing the other two following him to the counter.

Sakura’s red face turns to yours sharply once they were out of earshot, grateful at least for the secluded corner booth you were both sat in. “Are you crazy?! We’re gonna get caught, knock it off.” He whispers sharply, only to be met with a grin from you. His body betrays his words, hips bucking to meet your movements. “What was that Haru? Cause it seems to me like you don’t want me to stop.~” You tease, pressing a quick kiss to his lips, looking over to see the boys caught in a conversation with the brunette at the counter. Taking advantage of their distraction as you slide quickly under the table. “Better be quick then, baby. Don’t want them to find out how much you’re loving this do you?”

You hook your hand on the base, tongue lolling out to lick a fat stripe up the underside of him, looking up at him with hooded eyes from under the table. You let your tongue circle his fat mushroom tip, letting your lips close around him, sucking his tip harshly. Sakura’s hand immediately coming to tangle in your hair and teeth coming down to bite on his bottom lip, harsh, to the point of drawing blood. In order to conceal any noises that would attempt to fall from his lips. He feels you lick the underside of his length, groaning loudly when he feels your tongue run along his sensitive tip. He attempts to make eye contact with you, but that doesn’t last long, face planting into the table to hide his reddened cheeks and any expressions that would give away what was occurring beneath the table. “We’re gonna get caught..” He whimpers, stuttering over his words from the pleasure you were giving him.

“Well you better be quick then, Haru.~” You tease, your words slightly muffled from the head of his cock. Resuming your pace, head bobbing up and down as you take more of him into your mouth, his tip hitting the back of your throat. The feeling has him seeing stars. Hips now coming up to buck against your tongue, while his own lolled out of his mouth drool dripping down his chin. “Fuck baby, fuck you feel s-so fuckin, shit, gonna fucking burst if you keep that up.” He whimpers, his hips stuttering as the coil building in his abdomen threatens to snap. Humming against his length at his words, almost as if to say that’s the whole point. Quickening your pace, free hand coming to rest against his balls messaging them feeling the contractions. Your eyes locking with his from your position sends him over the edge. Sakura was quick to bite his knuckles, muffling his sounds as he comes down your throat. Swallowing another groan as he watches you swallow all of him. Jolting upright hearing footsteps approach, hurriedly tucking his softening member into his pants once more.

His eyes blown wide as the other’s sit down with their orders, settling themselves into their seats. “Hey, where’d y/n go?” Kiryu askes, tilting his head. Sakura scrambles for something to say in his post-orgasmic haze, only for you to cut him off popping up from under the table. “Sorry I dropped my spoon, I got it.” You giggle, faux-innocence lacing your tone. “Might need a new one though, this black and white milkshake is thick. Could barely suck it through my straw. Could I borrow yours baby?” You ask with an innocent smile, licking the corner of your mouth. Though the snort Suo lets out around the rim of his teacup tells you that he knew exactly what had just taken place. Sakura’s cheeks so red he thought he would die from blood loss on the spot.

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This was WAYYYY longer than I anticipated but it’s me, are we surprised?? This was so much fun might do a part two if im feelin frisky. But I hope you enjoyed, see you next time!

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hyukascampfire · 10 days ago

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𝓖INGER & 𝓢NAP ` ꕀ. k.th

you were the last person taehyun expected to appear on his doorstep. sweet and fluffy and oh-so-proper; he never thought he’d see you again. but... there you stand. and, much to his own chagrin, he fears that nobody else could get him more bothered. ׄ ⋆ ִ

་༘ ՚՚ ꒰ 🪵 ꒱ ･ 7.9k

ρairings gingerbread!taehyun x frosty puff!reader

𝒢 ‧̥ smut, fantasy, strawberry shortcake au

⍵arnings brat taming, brat tamer!taehyun & brat!reader, his cum is frosting, creampie, ofc no sex ed in strawberryland, thigh riding, oral m!receiving, cumming into mouth, cum eating, corruption of innocence & innocent!reader, banter, chubby!reader and buff!taehyun, manhandling, he throws her around a bit and she's so into it, they don't like each other but also def do, he likes to teach her manners, reader is also spoiled & rich and taehyun is not, hair pulling, he gets mean, no protectiom, let me know if i missed some!

✎୭ ashlynn's note this collab has been seriously so fun. writing fics is fun, but there's something about talking your friends and scheming all the yummy ways you can incorporate certain things into your fic. @thetxtdevil mae baby, thank you so much for being the best and even coming up with this idea. your mind amazes me... like actually. everybody did so unbelievably good, and i'm blessed to have been a part of it. now... let's get foody and smutty lol. some of this was written in a benadryl haze, but that's the fun part. i'm sorry mine came out a lil later than everybody else's, but hopefully it's still fun!

... back to the masterlist ⌇ back to strawberryland

Raising your fist to the door, your knuckles rap against it with a few thick knocks. The door is frosted around the edges in little swirling white puffs of icing, framing the gingerbread door. It’s the same all around his house: gumdrops and candy canes and the like, all twinkling with sugar crystals.

It’s all so sweet—unbelievably so. The man that calls it home is the very antithesis of sweet. He does not take after the gumdrop, nor the sweetness of the icing, and most definitely not the brown sugar and molasses of the gingerbread. Taehyun is the quick snapping of a leg, or the sharpness on your tongue when you get to the cinnamon and nutmeg.

You loathe it. Even being stood here, knocking at his door, you hate. He is everything uncouth and abrasive—he is everything you should not entertain.

Here you are, entertaining it. The door swings open. Your fingers and toes have begun to slow with the cold, like frosty-whip in the fridge. Through the forest, stepping over sugar bushes and cocoa streams, you had fought the bite. Why did he have to live all the way out here? Secluded, as though the rest of Strawberryland were beneath his meddling. You know why: it’s that he believes it. He is exactly as your parents told you he’d be, all those years ago. Of course, they were right. They always are.

When he catches sight of you at his door, his distant eyes morph, and his lip tugs into a scowl. The rise of his brows ruffles your feathers with an infuriating ease. “Is there something you want?” he asks. His tone is infuriating, too. It’s the kind of question that means much more beyond the words said. You catch exactly what he means—how he intends to get under your skin.

Hidden behind the door, he has one hand on the handle. It's an unspoken thing, too. He wants you to remember that he could close it. You can’t let him, or else you’ll have drug your pretty new furry winter boots through the powdered snow for him to slam a door in your face. “Yeah, actually. There is.” You run preening fingers through the ends of your hair. “We’re partners for the bake-off.”

“I don’t do the bake-off,” he says. His eyes would be chocolate and smooth if it weren’t for the way he wields them sharp. “Sorry. You’re gonna have to find somebody more your speed for that.”

Barking an incredulous, perhaps even snobby, laugh, you look around. Snow comes down on the ground, sweet and creamy. It’d been enough of a battle to come here. If you were going to give up so easily, you would’ve turned your little bottom around perhaps two hours ago. Does he think you hadn’t considered that? It was a long walk; you had plenty of time to mull over the many things he might do. Sometimes, you imagined him diplomatic and affable. You stomped those wispy thoughts out. Perhaps it’s been years since you’ve spoken with him, and perhaps what happened between the two of you is dusted over, but you know better. Here he stands in front of you: bitter as ever.

“You’re just gonna leave me without a partner?” you say. Your jaw trembles, seized finally by the cold. “Everybody is already paired up. Literally everybody.”

Shrugging, he says, “I don’t see how that’s my problem. I didn’t sign up for it.”

Your brows knit. That means somebody else had signed him up. You have a sneaking suspicion who might’ve—Blueberry Kai always tells you that he just feels excluded. It’s hard not to laugh when he does. Taehyun? Excluded? He is exactly where he wants to be. Where most are sweet in Strawberryland, the snappy gingerbread finds it easier to justify his bitterness when he lives off in his little gingerbread home, out and away in his own neck of the forest only to be found by a winding gumdrop road, where he can pretend he’s above it all.

It’s entirely ironic. Him, better than you? Gingerbread, and all his ruggedness? His unpolished edges? Once, you’d believed that the two of you weren’t so different. That you could be friends, even. Seeing what he’s grown to be, you think you understand why your parents stepped in. Back then, though, as just that soft little girl who followed the charismatic boy around with crystal stars in your eyes, it had been the worst thing to ever happen to you. He had been so gravity-defying, moving through the soft, marshmallow edges and the sugar-whipped reality of Strawberryland as something different.

No. Not gravity-defying. Rather, in the powdery and sweet sweet Strawberryland, you think that he is the only thing with gravity.

“That’s not fair.”

“Not fair?” he echoes, letting a little patronizing laugh out along with it. “That’s sweet.”

It’s hard not to shift or cross your arms over your chest, abraded by the dripping sneer.

“What? It’s not. It’s not fair that, just because you don’t want to at least give it a try, I can’t participate,” you say. Really, you should just crawl back home and beg to join somebody’s duo, but you can’t lose like that. You can’t lose to him. If you leave it like this, then he’ll have gotten the better of you.

“Can’t get everything we want, huh?” he says, straightening up and taking the door in his hand once more. “Just because everybody else has bent backward to give you what you want doesn’t mean that I will.”

“Wait,” you say, sighing in a white swirl. “Don’t close the door. Don’t you know your manners? It’s rude. You’re just going to let me freeze out here? I walked all the way out here, and even got snow all over my new boots, just for this, just for you to slam a door in my face? I mean, a gentleman would at least invite me in to warm me up.”

Lips twitching into a laugh and his eyes suddenly alight, he says, “A gentleman, huh?” He pulls the door open a little further. The warmth from his home, warm and spiced and oh-so-inviting like oven-warmed gingerbread, brushes over your twinkling skin. “Sure. Show me your manners, then. I want you to ask me nicely.”

Your jaw tightens. Sending him a once over, sharpening your eyes, you decide to just do it. His tone is nasty, but you don’t want to be disqualified for not having a partner. Even if he’s the worst you could’ve been paired with in all of Strawberryland. Or maybe the best, because it’s a gingerbread house competition this year. “Will you just do it?”

“I said ask nicely. Say please.”

He wears a mean smile—he’s having fun watching you squirm. So, you make a conscious effort to straighten up. “Will you please be my partner for the competition?” you say, making your voice sugary and batting your eyelashes in an overdone way. He thinks he’s funny.

Stepping out of the doorway, he motions you inside. It might look gentlemanly if it weren't for the sting in his eyes. You swallow down petty words and push through, your arms full with supplies. Arms aching, you finally let them clatter down over the countertop. The inside of his home is fresh-baked and spiced, aromatic like a true gingerbread cookie straight from the oven. You’re sure the glowing fire helps carry the smell in warm air. It wraps your cold bones up and smooths over some of the frayed edges. You’d been out there for so long… Nobody else had to walk that far for their partner.

Better just to get this done as quickly as you can. You just have to put up with him today, and you’ll be done, and then you can have fun with the competition. He won’t even show up for it; you’re sure.

“I’ll do it all if it’s that big of a deal,” you tell him, laying out the walls and warming the icing between your palms. “You can put the peppermint on, I guess. So then we can say we both worked on it.”

Hair the fluffy brown of true gingerbread and dusted with snowflakes like powdered sugar. Taehyun shakes his head, and it moves with him. “No,” he says, the corners of his lips still turned up as though he knows something you don’t. He rolls the sleeves of his gaudy, knitted Christmas sweater up to his elbows. The corded muscle there, flickering with movement, catches you off guard. Gingerbread, built like that? Tearing your eyes off him with the effort of metal tearing itself from a magnet, you watch him approach the kitchen counters. “I’ll help. We’re partners, right?”

No matter what he says, there’s a twist of something sparkling in those sharp eyes that has you watching him closer—has you trying to gauge exactly what he’s playing at. “Uh… Yeah. Sure. If you want to, I guess.” You gesture at the walls. “Two for us, and ten for display. Can you start the walls?”

“Ten?” he says. “We’re making twelve gingerbread houses?”

With your lips pulled taut, you say, “Yeah… Twelve. Is that too much? I didn’t think any amount of gingerbread houses would be too much for you. That’s a little ironic.” Everything is warm in his home—even when you look down at your own hands to tug off your white woolen gloves, your skin that usually sparkles like frost rests just beneath the surface is tinged with the warmth.

“I can handle it just fine,” he says, taking the wall and base sections of one. “Just wouldn’t want you to ruin your pretty outfit. Twelve is a lot of icing.” He spits the word pretty out like it tastes bad. On his tongue, you’re sure it does. He never cared for pretty things the way you do. Your mommy always said that he was just jealous, but when the both of you were little, before your parents’ meddling, you learned that it was just a different lifestyle. One that you don’t understand, perhaps. Who doesn’t enjoy dressing themselves in lush furs and sugar crystals over their necks?

“I’ll be fine,” you say, snipping the tip of the piping bag open. “I wore these knowing they’d get dirty. They’re my baking clothes. My boots already got all messed up…”

“Oh,” he says. “You put on cashmere knowing you’ll get it dirty. Mommy and daddy paid a pretty penny for that, huh? And it’s your throwaway outfit?”

“Look. If you like it so much, I’ll let you have it when we’re done, yeah? Maybe you’ll make a pretty penny off selling it.” You ice a warm white line down the length of a wall. “Can you hurry? I’m already icing. I don’t want to be here all day.”

There’s a few long, thrumming moments of quiet, where only the sound of your piping back crackling fills his home. Finishing a wall, you tear yourself away from your work to spare a glance his way.

Taehyun’s jaw is tight, a muscle flickering where he grits his jaw in the low light that washes over him. There’s a fire blazing in his eyes, and though he doesn’t turn them on you, the smoke rolling from them is enough to make your skin warm. You’d successfully gotten under his skin. Why stop here, when seeing that look on his face is so fun? He looks as sour as an apple; as spiced as cinnamon. “Wall?” you say, sharp and haughty as you offer your hand out to him in an impatient demand.

Snapping his head up, he hands you a wall with the heat of a thousand ovens in his face. You feel the scald he intends for you with it, and you revel in it.

You bark commands at him, watching his shoulders grow tense and his lips twitch with each. Crush the candy canes, you tell him. Melt the icing. Sprinkle these over that. Soon enough, you’re sitting back and watching him work more than anything.

He doesn’t say a word. You see them brimming in his eyes, but he doesn’t let them burst out all venomous like you know he wants to. It’s quite the show.

“Would you at least help me hold this up?” he says, holding the walls of a house together with one hand. His hands are a mess of runny sugar and powdered sugar for snow, and yours are perfectly clean. You can at least help a little bit if you want to claim any part in the competition.

You reach for the piping bag, fat with the sweet sweet icing, and straighten a wall up. You trace the seams with it, thick and like glue. With a bit too much pressure, the side of the bag bursts. White rivulets of slow icing run down your fingers and over the table. You curse, dropping it to the counter. That’s all of your icing, flopped down and deflating over the surface all sad-like. It’d been so much, that you thought it would last you each house and then some. Of course, you hadn’t brought extra.

Bringing your sticky fingers up to your mouth, you suckle the mess off. It’s so very sweet—warm and weeping, nutty and spiced with something like nutmeg. It’s Taehyun: the smell of it, the way it spreads over your tongue… You stick your tongue out to catch it where some drips down your forearm. “Mmm,” you say, sticky-armed. “Tastes good.” That’ll be good on the gingerbread houses; maybe the two of you do have a chance at winning.

When you look up to Taehyun, he stands frozen in place, his hands still holding up a half-constructed gingerbread house. His eyes are different. It’s a look you don’t recognize—a look you’ve never seen before. Rather than deep and warm, his eyes are blackish and heavy. A swallow goes down his throat; a tense, barely contained thing.

You frown, your lips still a sugary mess. “I didn’t mean to make a mess. Sorry. I’ll clean it up…”

Clearing his throat, Taehyun says, “Yeah…”

He watches you clean the counters, where the icing had pooled, and now the bag is empty, with the same intensity. You can feel it on your skin in a foreign, itching way. You swipe and scoop and work at the spill, and still, he watches. He does not speak.

You survey the houses you’ve managed to finish. They’re pretty, and absolutely competition ready: looping swirls of icing like shingles on the roofs, peppermint chunks all red and white catching light where you’d sprinkled them into the frosting, gumdrops lining the paths true to Taehyun’s own home, and powdered sugar sifted over the entirety of it like snowfall. It’s all great, but there are only four. “What are we supposed to do now?” you say, lips pouty. “That’s all the icing I brought. We literally can’t make any more.” You wipe at a smear on your cheek. How’d that get there? “I think I’m gonna have to come back tomorrow… Can you hold on to the houses for me?”

“Yeah—yeah, sure. Tomorrow,” he says, blinking something away. He straightens. “It’s a long walk. I think you should get going.”

You want to say something snarky or ask him why he wants you out of the house so fast, but it’s true. Night’s creeping over Strawberryland, and you have no icing, and tomorrow’s the last day before the bake-off. If the two of you don’t work harder tomorrow than you did today, then you won’t even make qualifications. You’ll lose before even starting.

You never lose. Not like this, and certainly not to the man standing before you.

ꕀ

“C’mon. You can do better than that, can’t you?” Taehyun says, drooping icing from rooftops like icicles as you sprinkle crushed candies over the top.

You grit your teeth. If he’d been snappy yesterday, he’s made it his mission to be your worst nightmare today. You think it’s his sort of revenge for ordering him around how you did. “What would you like, then?” you say. Maybe it’s feeding right into what he wants, but your life has lent you a short fuse. “You don’t even care about winning. Why does it matter? Let me do it how I want.”

He’s in another sweater. The sleeves are bunched up to the elbow just like yesterday, but you think he’s making a point with it this time. The shifting of his muscles is a bit too intense for piping icing. You’d made it through three more houses, wrangling your inner demons with each passing snide remark or nasty smile the whole time. It doesn’t help that he keeps his home terribly toasty, and you run cold down to the core. You melt and melt until all that is left of your temper is a puddle on the floor beneath you. Gone.

“We’re partners, remember?” he says. He doesn’t even look at you as he says it. “I don’t do things half-assed, Frosty.”

You’re sent reeling with the old nickname. It’d been sweet then, back when it was just the two of you against the world, but now it’s gone sour like milk. It even comes from his mouth soured. It’s something that you thought you’d left a million lifetimes ago, never to hear again. With Taehyun, though, it’s hard to pretend that you are no longer that.

He will not let you forget that, at one point, the two of you were friends. An unlikely pair, especially looking at you now. You thought it was all nothing to you, but seeing him has kicked up dust.

“You don’t?” you say, shooting him a quick glare from the side of your eye. “That’s funny.”

Strong brows shooting up, Taehyun quits mid-piping to look at you. “Funny? What’s funny about it to you?”

You can’t settle the obnoxious smile that curls at the edges of your mouth, mean and taunting and falsely sweet. “Oh, nothing.” You shake a sifter full of powder against your palm. It falls like true snow down over the house.

“No, tell me,” he says, his eyes trained and heavy on your dismissive shrug. “Tell me what you think of me. I wanna hear it.”

Oh, this will be good.

“It’s just that,” you say, “you’re not really known for doing things the best way, you know? Living all the way out here, an ass when anybody tries to talk to you… Well, really, it’s just that nobody likes you. But, don’t worry! I’m sure there’s at least somebody that does.”

His face falls, the twinkle of delight at taunting you that he’d been holding in his eyes gone away. All that’s left is the peaking of something deeper and roiling from out of the cracks. You get the funny feeling that maybe you’ve taken it a step too far.

But, you never lose.

“Is that what it is?” he says. “I work for my shit. You? Everything you’ve ever had has been handed to you.” He measures his words delicately. Like a measuring cup full over the top, he cuts the excess words and coarseness off. He doesn’t say all that he thinks, but you see all he leaves unsaid toiling furiously behind his eyes.

His eyes. They’re clear and, sharp as they are, they pin you. It’s a reflection of that look he gave you yesterday: deep and swirling and wild. It’s more than that, this time, though. It’s laced with anger and bursting at the seams of him. You’re not sure he’ll be able to hold back whatever it is that storms just beneath his skin, this time.

“It is,” you say, punctuation your words concisely. “It’s exactly why my parents said I shouldn’t hang out with you. They said that I’m above… all this.”

Oh, you’ve absolutely taken it too far now. You don’t really mean it. Sure, that’s what they told you, but you don’t really believe it. For some time, you did, but not now. It’s too late for sorries, though. Taehyun’s jaw goes tense.

For a long, awful moment, you just stand there and burn in his silence. It’s worse than any words he might spit. It’s hot—hot, hot, hot, and you turn liquid in it.

In a blink, nothing more, you collide against his countertop. Something clatters and thuds behind you. The gingerbread houses? That doesn’t matter right now—all that your dizzy mind can manage is his body crushing you and his fingers biting into the plush of your cheeks.

Where he had fractured, like true gingerbread, he snaps. You can see it in his eyes; even you know when you’ve pushed too far. Perhaps you ought to have seen this coming.

His knuckles curl white around the edge of the counter beside you, and his fingers dig deeper into your face. He’s oh-so-hot up against you. “I’m sick of your fucking mouth,” he snarls. His breath is hot as it fans over your face, too. “Someone needs to put you in your place. Where are your goddamn manners?”

Your heart thrums in your chest, and your pulse goes wild in your neck. You can’t form the words to answer him.

“Quiet now, huh?” he says. The husk in it makes the place between your thighs feel weird. You don’t know what’s wrong with you.

He shut you up real quick. You’ll give him that.

That funny feeling does flips, roaring to life when his fingers hook under the waistband of your bottoms. “That’s your problem.” His eyes send a chill up and down your spine. “You’ve never been told no. You’ve always gotten what you wanted.” Peeling down all the layers, he tugs your knitted stockings and your little fur skirt, and your sweet frosty panties, too. They bunch at your feet. Between your thighs, right where those foreign, throbbing waves reign, cool air laps at a wetness there. The hair all over your body rises. You’ve never felt anything like it. “Not with me. I'll set you straight. I don’t put up with spoiled brats.”

“I’m not a brat,” you say. “You’re just an ass.” They’re the first words that come to you. Damn your temper.

With the same hand he’d been holding your face in place with, he curls his fingers right into your scalp and yanks hard, baring your neck to him. You lose a strained squeak, tears pricking the corners of your eyes at the sting. If your heart had been racing before, it runs wild, now. You strain your eyes to look at him and his curled lips. Painted with a sneer, he says, “Watch your mouth.”

A swallow goes down your throat hard. It’s all unfamiliar: the aching between your thighs, the burning in your blood, and the dazing of your thoughts. “Taehyun, I… I feel weird. It feels weird.”

Something knowing passes over him. “Yeah?” he says. “Show me where. I can help.”

Show him? You hesitate, searching his eyes for an ounce of joke or aversion. You find none, and that pounding is syrupy-sweet, and he says he can help. That’s all you want; all you need. Taking a trembling hand, you bring it down your body, running the palm down the planes of your belly and resting it just over the spot where the lower bit gives way to the apex of your thighs. Going any further—the thought tightens your throat and pinkens your cheeks the color of strawberry frosting. “There. It feels weird there.”

Taehyun smiles a snappy, spiced smile. He likes that. “Want me to make it feel better?”

Your thoughts feel replaced by something powdery and weightless. You give him a dumb nod.

“Say please.”

Something bratty crawls up your throat, but you want help, and he’s the one who will give it to you. He’d meant that: teaching you a lesson. Melted around the edges already, you say, “Please, help make it feel better.” Your voice wavers.

“There we go. That’s how good girls talk. That’s how you ask to get what you want.” He nudges your thighs apart with a knee and slots it between them, pressed right up against that coolness. Right up against that need. “Grind down on it.”

Neck aching at the angle, you say, “Grind?”

He brushes his clothed thigh right up against you. The friction is delicious—sweet and melty and just what you need. It shoots yellow sparks throughout you.

It feels so good. Your mouth waters in anticipation.

“Grind,” he says. It’s harder, this time. Not a sweet suggestion.

You bring yourself back down on it, gasping at the contact, and you do. You grind, tummy tightening at every brush of the fabric hard and delicious. Your chest constricts, one hand flying up to dig your fingers into his shoulder and the other fighting the hand he has still in your hair. It aches and hurts, and so does the friction as you grow more gaspy and frantic.

It feels so, so good. You want more—you want him to touch you there and everywhere else. He smells just right all over you, nutty and musky like a gingerbread twist. “Taeh—hyun,” you mewl. It burns, but something slick eases the burn a little bit. Just enough for you to enjoy that burn.

“That’s it,” he coos. It’s not a sweet coo; it’s the type of sound one might make when you play right into their mean game. It’s mean. “Make yourself a mess on my thigh. I don’t even have to touch you. What would mommy and daddy think of you now, huh? What would they think if they saw their precious princess fucking herself on my thigh?”

No. That would be the end of you. You whine, thighs twitching. Something twists in your center, scary and foreboding, and still you chase it. None of your thoughts are solid enough to stop. Each time he flexes a muscled thigh or presses it harder into you, you shudder and curl your fingers into his shirt harder.

“Don’t like that, huh?” he laughs. “Then you haven’t learned your lesson. You’re no better than me; I mean, look at you.”

You want to cry when he pins your hips back to the counter, stilling your wild bucking. Squeezing your eyes shut, you claw and reach for that wave, even as it recedes from you. “Why?” you say, voice thin. It’d been so yummy—the sweetness still rests on your tongue. Your heart thumps hard, longing for it.

“I said, look at yourself,” he growls, taking his hold on your hair to crank your head down.

Right where you’d been on his thigh, there’s a sticky, marshmallowy mess. Your mess.

Taehyun releasing his grip on your hair is almost a relief, but he doesn’t even give you time to relish it. The walls of his house blur around you. All that you register in between the motions is his shoulder in your belly and your limbs dangling from you. You dig your hands into his back to balance yourself, but he’s got you.

He has you slung over his shoulder. He’s carrying you like you weigh nothing at all. That place between your thighs flutters anew. In all your life, you never worried too much about the plushness of your belly or your thighs. It is who you are; all mallow and soft around the edges and starkly sweet. But you did get nervous when somebody tried picking you up. Usually, you protest and giggle it off. Watching somebody strain to pick you up when they lift other girls like sacks of flour is just something that makes you feel a little strange.

But, Taehyun does not strain. He doesn’t huff; he carries you right down the hallway and into his room, and he even manhandles you down onto the bed with a bounce without so much as a sound. He is a solid pillar beneath you, and then he is a solid, muscled chest above you. With strong fingers, he pins your hands to the mattress above you. With the other, he leads your shirt up.

He’s so warm against your cold skin. His breath like waves from the oven over your mouth, he says, “You think you’re so much better than me because you have all this?” Curling his fingers around a necklace circling your throat, he tears it off with a clattering of a few snow-drop beads.

You gasp, glaring right into his eyes. “What the hell?” you hiss, arching your chest to wiggle beneath him. Your necklace. Who does he think he is, breaking your stuff? That was one of your favorite necklaces, and now it lies all over his floor. Still, your center pounds and longs for the return of his touch. Everything about him just calls for more from you. You don’t know how you went so long without him, or how you made yourself forget just how drawn you are to his magnetism. Maybe he is just what your parents turn their nose up at, and you too, but that does not make him any less a powerful personality.

He knows exactly who he is and what he wants, as solid as the gingerbread cookie. And you, plush and impressionable as whipped marshmallows, take to him just right. It’s something you once knew, but the sneered words of adults obscured that memory.

“Don’t whine,” he says. “I want to see your pretty neck without all that shit. That’s your problem: you’re spoiled.” He reaches down to mess with his pants.

His length springs free. Cheeks flushing, you take it in. You can’t look away, even as embarrassment crawls spindly legs over your skin at the interest you take in the sight. You’ve never seen anything like it—long and hot and weeping something thick and white from the slit at the pinkish tip. A pearl of it dribbles down, landing on your belly in a string where he holds it.

Taehyun collects that wetness and then urges more from the tip with a few drags down the length of it. Wrapping his fingers around it, he begins to slowly work his fist up and down it. It’s nothing short of impossible to tear your sights off it—it’s another thing that inexplicably fans the flames of something roaring in your center. “Do you want to touch it?” he says, watching your tongue dart out to wet your lips.

The sight of him growing restless over his pumping fist is enough to get you nodding.

“Fuck,” he says, sharp and under his breath. He lets his hand off it. “Go ahead. Touch it. I won’t tell anybody you did.”

When he frees your pinned wrists, you reach out a slow hand. You curl your fingers around it the way he had. Your fingers don’t even touch around jt. The weight and warmth of him in your palm makes your blood tingle. Looking up, you search for guidance in those intelligent, swirling eyes. His bangs hang over his eyes as he watches.

Placing his hand over yours, he drags it up and down his rigid length the way he had been doing a few beats ago. “Like that,” he says. “Just like that.”

You pump your closed fist up and down him, encouraged to squeeze harder and flick your wrist faster with each tight breath he lets slip. The skin of your palm gets stickier and stickier, the slick sounds sending your ears and core burning just the same. You like that it makes him feel good—that he’s making those noises just for you.

He twitches under your fingers. “Feels just like I thought your pretty hands would…” he says, stomach tight. “See—what happens when you give up that bratty fucking act? Shit… harder—give it to me harder, Frosty…” Shivering at the name, you oblige him. You reach your thumb up and collect more of that beaded liquid from the slit, and you work your arm harder. Faster. Your forearm begins to burn, but you don’t let it slow you. All you want is more of this; more of him. Finally, he lets sounds out from his chest freely. He grunts and hisses through his teeth, letting his head fall back. “Holy shit. I’m gonna—gonna ice your face, okay?” he says. “You said you liked the taste, huh? Wanna taste it again? Give me your tongue…”

Whatever that means, you push yourself up and situate your face in front of his length, your tongue out. Taehyun’s sounds tighten, and his hips begin to stutter and chase your hand. He picks his head back up to look down at you half-lidded—to watch. With only a few last runs of your palm down his length, skin so slick that your hand just slips and slides up him, he growls through gritted teeth. The weight of him in your working hand twitches once more, and from that weeping tip he shoots dancing ribbons of white. It lands on your tongue hot and sweet, melting out all spiced and snappy.

Snappy like gingerbread. Like gingerbread icing. Swallowing it down, you meet his gaze. He pants, chest rising and falling, but there’s something clear and knowing in his heavy eyes when you do. You think you know now, why he’d been so dazed as you made a show of licking that same sticky icing off your hands and said how good it tasted.

When you release him from your palm, it glistens with his sweet essence. He softens in front of your eyes just the littlest bit.

Eyes just as hungry and still catching his breath, Taehyun says, “Open your mouth. I wanna see your tongue.”

Belly doing wicked twists, you do. You stick your tongue out for him, still laden with the headiness of his taste. He does taste good.

“Swallowed it all down?” he says, eating the sight of you with your mouth dropped open up. “You really are so nasty. They all think you’re so sweet—you think you’ve got them all wrapped around your finger.” He pushes you back down to the bed with a palm. “Well, not me. I know that you’re just as filthy as you are spoiled. Somebody had to deal with you.”

Like always, snarky words swirl in your mouth. All it would take is letting them fall off your tongue. But you don’t—not with the feeling between your thighs, and not with the way your blood, frost turned to snowmelt, begs for him to fix it. Not when you know that all it will get you is more of Taehyun’s wrath.

It’s not like what he says is true, or anything. That’s what you tell yourself anyway.

“Taehyun, please. I need it…” He takes a marshmallow thigh of yours, pressing it up so that it melds with your belly. Cool air reminds you once more of that strange wetness between them.

Dark, blown eyes catching the sight of it, his lips quirk into a scoff. “Need what?” he says, reaching a hand down. At the contact of his fingers, just as they had against his thigh, your hips jolt and an explosion like the breaking of sugar glass shoots down the muscles of your thighs. He scoops that stickiness up from its source, bringing the soft cream up to his mouth. Tongue darting out, he has a taste of you just as you had tasted him. “Shit—you taste good too, frosty. You’re so sweet, how’d you turn out like this? That’s okay. I’ll deal with you, and then you’ll be just as sweet as you taste.” That fat tip of him presses flush to the source of all your want. “I’ll straighten you out.”

You don’t know what that means, and you are absolutely sure that you don’t deserve it, but any sass is staunched with the utter sweetness of the stretch in your center. Taehyun presses his hips up into you, slowly and internalizing the dropping open of your mouth, the pinching of your brows into a worrying line, and the press of your palms to his broad chest. He takes it and metabolizes it down like cream cake or the plumpest fruits, and he gives you more. More, all the way up until there is no length of him left to give, and nowhere else for him to go.

You feel so, so full. No amount of twinkling jewels or new skirts hold a candle to this. You don’t know what it is, and you don’t know why Taehyun knows, but whatever. Who cares? Breathing out a shudder, you squirm beneath him to search for that dazzling feeling he’d made you feel earlier.

“Stay still,” he barks, steadying himself beside your head with a sturdy, powerful arm. When had he lost his sweater? You don’t know. You might drool over the definition and warm skin there if he didn’t pull the length of him out until just the tip of him threatens to pop out, and then drive right back in before you could. A gaspy breath falls from your mouth, devolving into mewls and whimpers when he does the same over and over and over again, quick with snapping hips and the smacking of his skin against the soft skin of your bottom. Your thigh quivers in his hold, his fingers digging into the fluff of your thigh as he holds you into it.

Each and every time he slides up against something inside you that makes you feel different. Different from what you felt when you were on his thigh, and different from anything else you’ve felt in the entirety of your life. It’s deeper, right at the very bottom of your belly, sending your veins lazy and your hips twitchy. You want to chase it as much as you want to hide from its power, so all you do is stay in a hazy limbo of sharp gasps and long, drawn out mewls for more.

“No,” he says, his face right in yours. The smell of him, manly and so very sweet like oven-warmed gingerbread, settles over your bones and wiggles its way through your thoughts. It does something to your melted mind, planting a need to cling to him right in the center. Your hands perch all over him: the hair at the back of his head, his working waist, his biceps that flex and strain with his effort, and finally around him so that you can push your cheek to his chest and feel his heart racing there. “You’ll take exactly what I give, and thank me for it. You don’t get to ask for more; not with your mouth.”

“Why?” you say, whining. “I want it—so bad. Please? I’ll be so… so good…” Your voice bounces with each collision of your bodies, and your toes flex and curl at the twisting in your core. Nonetheless, you want more. Whatever this is—this syrupy, pure goodness—Taehyun has shown you something that you will never be whole without again. He has bloomed a flower right in the chest of you, something hungry that will want and want this, and you fear that he will be the only one able to satiate it.

The thought of the smile he’ll wear, should you come crawling back to his doorstep just for this…

Taehyun stops, pushing off you with a curled lip. “What will it take to get you to fucking listen?” he says. He pulls himself from you, leaving you to whine and long for that feeling once more. You want to complain and pull him back over you, but with the fire churning in his dark gaze and the sight of his length, covered in that same white, whipped stuff you’d left all over his thigh.

You’d made a sticky, frosty, frothed mess all over him once again. Really, what would people think of you now? Your mom? Your dad?

Manhandling you again, he flips you onto your hands and knees and shoves your face into the bed. Any yelp or gasp that tears from your chest is muffled into the sheets. Taking the swell of your hips, his fingers like bites against the powdery, soft skin there, his voice comes from behind you. “Won’t you just listen to me? If you’re gonna be mine, you’re gonna have to start learning how to hear no.” Curling your hair up and pulling it like a handle, he snaps your head back into another stinging, awful tug. It turns the arch of your back into something that you can imagine is a sight to be seen. If the burning where you feel his eyes raking down the curve of it has something to speak of it, that is. You squeeze your eyes shut as if that’ll help you any. “You don’t get everything you want. That’s not how this works.”

You don’t say anything. You have nothing good or sweet left to say.

“Say thank you, and I’ll give it to you good, okay?” he says, running a flattened hand down your spine. “That’s all I want to hear. Show me you can be good.”

The last thing you want to do is to thank him. That would mean admitting that you’ve lost, and that ruffles your preening feathers. But you want that goodness back, you want his hips snapping into you and that tight knot back in your belly. You’d do anything for it; even forget your ego.

Your mind is gone, anyway. Whatever your rational self would do, it doesn’t matter. There’s one thing that you want right now, and getting it is so easy. “Thank you, Taehyun. Thank you so much… I’m sorry I’ve been a brat, and I’m sorry about what I said to you. Please, just… help me. Please, I need you so bad.”

You? Sorry? It’s absurd, and yet, you entirely mean it. Maybe it’s your lazy brain talking, or maybe he really has won.

“See? So sweet when you act right,” he says. “Let me show you what happens when you do.”

You could cry real tears when he sets that same pace, his hands bracing on your hips to pull you deeper into each thrust and the front of your body bouncing against the sheets with each. Your cries grow hoarse and beyond needy, and your insides twist and turn even more dangerously.

You are on the brink of something divine. Something that will melt down so well, good on the tongue and as smooth as chocolate, but as sharp as the snapping of gingerbread.

And, snap, he has.

“Yes!” you cry, straining your shoulders as you reach behind you and curl your fingers around the place where he meets your skin. “S..So good! Right there—thank you, Taehyun!”

He doubles down on you. His length hits a spongy spot in your core, pounding up against the walls there and turning your insides against you. It’s almost too good. “There we go,” he says, voice shaking with a growl. The delivery of his thrusts grows sloppy. You think he feels just as good as you do. “That’s what—” Falling over you, he supports himself with each strong arm dug into the mattress beside your head, his solid front melded to your soft back. “That’s what I like to hear. Here you go—fuck, I’m gonna give you what good girls get, okay?”

You hope it’s more of that melty icing he shot from his length earlier. The knot in your belly tightens, just on the brink of a glittery, bright explosion. “Mhm!” you say, your voice cracking. You want it—you want it so bad. The intensity of it, turning over in your veins and rendering your thighs jelly, sings in your ears. It’s a frightening greatness, but you rage against the urge to drop your hips into the mattress and run from it. You need to finally taste what you’ve been chasing. “Taehyun! Right there—please, don’t stop!”

You were demanding more from him again, but Taehyun didn’t stop this time. Not when his growls and whines against your shoulder tell you enough about how he’s feeling. He tongues and nips at your shoulders, the only sounds echoing off the walls of his room, the hollow smack of his hips against your bottom, and the only smell of the sweet mingling of his gingerbread sharpness against your heady marshmallow. It’s good enough to eat.

Crying out with a frantic whine, the feeling deep in your belly changes once more, and you’re writhing and squirming against him. Your hips buck and chase and run, wild and just as explosively as the tightness shooting down your thighs and up through your lower back.

Everywhere. You feel it everywhere. It’s in the continued bouncing of your body, in each nudge of his tip to a sweet, spongecake spot deep inside you, in his breathless pants into your skin, and in the curling of his fingers into your hair when he releases a hip to do so, and in your pleads when he chases his own delicious release. Your throat tightens, and suddenly the sheets are all too warm around you, and you realize with blistering intensity that another one of those knots builds up in your belly. It’s quicker, short, and bright. You’ve barely even made it through the last, but still, it comes.

“Holy shit,” he growls, hips stuttering and then stilling. He reaches a hand down between your thighs and finds a very sweet button. The breath in your throat catches, and in nothing more than a blink of an eye, you crash again, and then your bodies are two twitching, elated things. He presses himself impossibly deeper into you before shooting that same hotness, sweet ropes of sugary icing right into you, and your fluttering insides hold him tight and eat it up. Your heart pounds in your chest, running amok in your ears and your neck, and you try to catch running breaths to no avail.

Occasionally grinding up into you, though there is hardly any space between your joined bodies to do so, Taehyun shoots more lazy spurts for a few long moments. His breaths slow against your skin, and yours do in your chest. Slowly, you recover as two entangled bodies, all clammy and melted like left in the oven for a bit too long.

Pressing hot, wet kisses to the back of your neck, and then down your spine when he pushes off you and pulls himself out, his tongue darting out against your skin for some, he says, “Taste so good… So sweet, even on your skin…” He brushes the wild tangles of hair from your face and adds, “I wonder if you’ve gone all sweet inside, too? You look like it…” The mess of you, your thick creaminess staining your thighs and his runny load pooling from your hole, is all over. It even makes the sheets beneath you dirty with dribbles of his release as it drips. “I told you I’d get you sweet.”

If that sluggish, sugary thing moving through your veins is sweetness taking over you from the inside, perhaps you have gone sweet. Or, perhaps you now have every reason to become his worst nightmare—just if it gets you this.

You’ll play sweet for now. The softer kisses he seasons your skin with are no less enthralling than the delightful goodness still ebbing away between your thighs. You think that, for the first time, you have lost.

And, to your very own dismay, it tastes so very sweet.

... back to the masterlist ⌇ back to strawberryland

✎୭ ashlynn's note BRAT TAMER TAEHUN, amirite?

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kitten4sannie · 7 months ago

Text

for love of the game (teaser)

pairing: rival team! wooyoung x rival! reader (fem) x teammate! yunho

genres: college baseball au, enemies to fuckbuddies, bsf fuckbuddies, smut

summary: jung wooyoung, a pitcher with a fearsome curveball, and your self-proclaimed enemy since the beginning of the playoffs, is beyond determined to show you that he is in fact, on top. Yunho, your close friend and reliable teammate, will do everything in his power to watch it all go down.

future tag warnings (may be subject to change): tobacco/vape usage, baseball lingo?? idk, nasty mean dom! wooyo, perverted soft dom! yuyu, subby! (tiny bit bratty) reader, light brat taming, pet names/name calling, praise/degradation, dirty talk, exhibitionism/voyeurism, biting/marking, tag teaming, manhandling, size kink, oral (giving), deep-throating, spit kink, finger sucking, hair tugging, nasty hate sex against some lockers, sloppy seconds, breeding kink, creampies, dumbification

w.c: 1.6k (so far) while this teaser is about 500?? words

a/n: i love a good sports au (despite my inability to play any) fhwhwh so i’ve decided to write a nasty lil baseball fic for you all~ the parasites told me to >:)) 🖤 so here’s a teaser!!! it’s a pretty big one hehe. and if you’d like to join this specific taglist (if you’re not on my general taglist) please click on the tiny heart at the bottom of the post :33 enjoyyy~~

“Yo, baby, you got some chew on you?” someone with an irritatingly smug, yet distinctly familiar voice asked you from the other side of the snug dugout.

You immediately stood up from your seat, turning your head in the direction of the voice, just in time for you to come face to face with the Devil himself.

Jung Wooyoung, a pitcher with a fearsome curveball, and your self-proclaimed enemy since the beginning of the playoffs, was casually leaning down against the small metal fence that separated your teams, looking up at you through the yellow lenses of his sunglasses.

“Do I look like the type to put that nasty shit in my mouth?” you immediately snapped, taking a few steps in his direction, not realizing how hard you were squeezing your plastic water bottle until it began to audibly crunch inside your tight grasp. “Huh?”

Wooyoung licked at the mole on his chapped bottom lip, his canines becoming visible when he smiled cockily at you. He missed his favorite plaything. You were so easy to rile up. It made his already tight pinstripe pants even tighter. “Mm, but you’ve put nastier things in your mouth, haven’t you, baby?”

Scoffing, you placed your hands on your soft hips, shaking your head, pretending his perverse words didn’t make your cheeks feel like they were already sunburnt, wanting to put up more of a front, now that your entire team was possibly listening in. “You would know a thing or two about that, wouldn’t you, Wooyoung? The handjobs you give your team aren’t doing enough for you these days, huh?”

Wooyoung did his best to ignore the snickers and whispers of your team, taking his cap off to run his fingers through his silky raven hair, biting the corner of his lip all the while. “People talk in the locker rooms, you know. They say you really know your way around a cock. Probably from all that practice you get with your teammates, yeah?” He looked over to Yunho, who sheepishly smiled at him. “You can vouch for me, can’t you, Yun?” The batter remained quiet out of fear of your wrath.

Wooyoung was about to say more, when his vision was suddenly blurred by something cold. You had offered him mercy, dumping the rest of your water on the pitcher’s head, rather than shoving the entire bottle up his ass like you desperately wanted to. Instead of blowing up on you and embarrassing himself like you had hoped he would, Wooyoung simply flipped his hair back and put his cap back on, resulting in a few squeals from some nearby fangirls that were sitting in the stands. “If getting me hard was the goal, you succeeded, Y/N.”

You grimaced. “You’re fucking disgusting, Wooyoung.”

Wooyoung reached over the fence to push a few loose strands of hair behind your ear. “But, you love it, don’t you? That’s why you’re so obsessed with me.”

“You should be obsessed with me. Maybe if you paid attention, you could figure out how to pitch a ball that I won’t knock out of the goddamn stadium.”

You irked Wooyoung to no end, your equally quick-witted jabs getting underneath the pitcher’s tan skin. However, he wouldn’t let you have the satisfaction of seeing that, until hell itself froze over. “And if you paid attention, maybe your team would actually make it past the playoffs.”

That was when a vein visibly began to bulge out of your temple, your jaw tensing. Wooyoung had struck a nerve. You knew it, he knew it, and your team definitely knew it. You’d give anything to make it to the championship game, but it was always just barely out of reach. The fact that Wooyoung would stoop so incredibly low had your blood boiling. You wanted nothing more than to grab the smug pitcher by his collar and spit directly in his face, but you were afraid that he would enjoy that more than you would have. So, instead you simply accepted defeat in that moment and sat back down on the bench, staring ahead at the expansive baseball field.

You were too caught up in your own furious thoughts to notice that Yunho had left the spot he had taken up on the bench, instead leaning on the same fence Wooyoung had been chilling on just moments ago.

“Your girl’s feisty, Yun. I fucking love it. She seems like she bites. Does she bite?” Wooyoung prodded the taller man, just as he pulled a vape out of his pocket and took a long hit, causally blowing out the smoke into Yunho’s face.

Yunho waved the vapor away, shaking his head slightly. “She’s not mine, but yeah, she bites.” He chuckled to himself. “I bite too.”

Wooyoung hummed in response, his eyes shifting from the crowd, to the busy field, then back up to Yunho. “She’s not yours, but she lets you hit, doesn’t she? And she’ll let you hit right after the game, right?”

“She does…She’s just very...rough.” Yunho bit his lip, thinking about how ferociously you would ride his cock in the empty locker rooms after the games you would ultimately lose, remembering all the deep bites and scratches you littered his broad body in, knowing you wouldn’t let him go until you left his cock raw and so sensitive, he was ready to cry. He was more of a softie himself, not exactly cut out for the animalistic sex you required after such a brutal loss. Wooyoung, however, seemed more fit for that. In fact, Yunho felt his throat go dry just imagining the two of you going at it in such a way, especially in front of him. That was allowed, right?

“Yunho.” Wooyoung took another long puff from his vape, using his free hand to take his glasses off and placing them over the brim of his baseball cap.

“Yeah?”

Wooyoung reached up to place his hand on Yunho’s tense shoulder, massaging his digits into it to loosen up the muscle. “I got a proposition for you. If your team wins today, you get to fuck a happy, calm Y/N. She’ll probably even blow you without expecting anything back. Who knows, she might even swallow.”

Yunho unconsciously licked his lips, glancing back over the shoulder Wooyoung was massaging into to admire your pretty face, even if it was contorted with rage-induced determination. He slowly looked back down at the pitcher. “And, if your team wins?”

Wooyoung grinned deviously, licking at one of his sharp canines. “I get to show Y/N just how disgusting I can get.”

Apply for the taglist here ⇢ ♡

#ateez #ateez smut #jung wooyoung #jeong yunho #wooyoung smut #yunho smut #wooyoung x reader #yunho x reader #kpop smut

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nanivinsmoke · 5 months ago

Text

✩ Spanked

✩ professor!geto x fem!reader

✩ let’s see how far being a brat in professor geto’s class gets you.

✩ tags: college au!, dominate geto, brat taming, fingering, overstimulation, oral sex, rough sex, office sex, age gap (reader is in her 20s. geto in his late 30s), etc…

you knew better than to be loud and interruptive in professor geto’s class, but when you saw the results for your last exam—you were fuming. there was no way her failed you, this brought your overall grade down, by a lot, but when you discussed with other classmates—everyone had a perfect score but you.

“this is some bullshit!” you yelled out, slamming your palm down onto your desk—earning multiple head turns and a glare from your professor. he watched as you strolled down the stairs, approaching his desk—anger written all over your pretty face.

“you fucking failed me? you know this paper was good! you know I earned an A. and out of everyone here in this bumfuck class, you know i deserved it. but of course you wouldn’t see that if you got your head out of her ass!” you pointed to the blonde in your class, a known professor fucker. she scoffed and he rose an eyebrow.

you could see him clench his jaw, but he kept his cool. he would deal with your outburst after class. right now, he had a lesson to teach. “beautiful speech. now sit down—oh and I would like to see you after class” he turned back to the board, giving you the cold shoulder. you stared at his clothed back, muscles poking through his black sweater—anger running through your body.

you stomped back to your seat, scowling for the remainder of class—not paying attention to the lesson that was being taught. how could you? you were beyond pissed. and as soon as the class left, in a hurry, you stomped right down to his desk. professor geto said nothing, locking the classroom’s door, before motioning for you to follow him into his office; that stood behind the blackboard.

you followed, ready to give him an ear full, watching as he sat behind his mahogany colored desk, one similar to the one in his lecture hall. his muscles flexed and relaxed as he put his hands on the wooden table, staring at you—making you a tad nervous. a hint of fear crept up on you, his facial expression was so very relaxed, but behind those matte black glasses; his brown eyes held so much emotion.

all of that rage you had subsided and now you stood there, unsure of what to say. “c’mere.” he beckoned with his finger and you moved on your own, standing closer to him and his desk—before he pulled you by your arm and folded you over his lap, your clothed ass directly in his eye view. your body was hot and the smell of his musky cologne had your panties wet with arousal, whatever he was about to do you, you were ready for; at least you thought you were.

you felt him push your skirt up, revealing your ass that hugged your pretty hot pink panties.

“loud and disrespectful? SMACK—“ his huge, calloused hand came crashing down onto your plump cheeks, rippling as an after effect from his arousing abuse. you bit your lip and screamed in response, secretly loving this pain. deep down, this was a fantasy you had for a while, being punished by your professor, getting fucked until you couldn’t walk anymore. it had your panties drenched almost every night.

“and then you accused me of fucking my students” ‘SMACK’— another powerful smack to your ass came crashing down, causing you to yelp out, however a slutty mewl escaped—surprising the both of you. you heard him chuckle, before another smack connected with your ass; pain and heat radiating off of it.

“you’re liking this? should’ve know you were a slut~” he gripped one of your cheeks, jiggling it—before he grabbed your panties and pulled it to the side; seeing the glimmering string of your arousal stuck to it. the coolness from the air had your cunt clenching, which he noticed and a smirk rose on his face. he immediately palmed your wet lips, slick being coated on his palm—while his eyes glued to the side of your face; watching as you struggled to hold back your arousal.

“getting off to your professor punishing you, hm? thinking about him spreading this pretty cunt open and fucking it till its molded into the shape of my cock? that’s what you want, hm?” he pushed your lips apart and rubbed your pretty, little swollen clit; making you moan in response, your eyes crossing from the sweet pleasure.

you felt another hard smack on your ass and you yelped out, this time looking at him in your peripheral. “just disobedient all over, huh? I asked you a question~” his natural deep voice; dropped an octave, making your pussy throb even more. fuck, was your professor hot.

“yes, sir. i want that so bad—please punish me professor,~” the look and the sound of your voice had him rock solid underneath his pants and you felt it, the hardness poking you right on your lower stomach. your mouth watered, wondering what his cock looked, tasted and smelled like—and he felt how wet it made you too. professor geto grabbed you by your hair and pulled you up from his lap, forcing you onto your knees; while he sat in his chair and unzipped his pants—his cock springing free.

his pretty fat, erect tip leaked nothing but big globs of precum, which you quickly slurped up; wrapping your plump lips around his mushroom head. his eyes widened behind his silver frames, watching as you swallowed his cock whole—his tip hitting the back of your mouth—spit dripping out the sides of your mouth. he couldn’t believe it, not only was he amazed at how good your mouth felt, but what he was currently doing to his student.

an overpowering feeling came over him and he couldn’t help but to grab the sides of your pretty head, slamming himself deep into your throat—your face plunged into his neatly trimmed hairs. your eyes were wide, but you quickly relaxed your throat, loving how deep he was—which made you slowly bob your head. your professor groaned, his hands still planted on the sides of your head, tangled into your hair, connecting his auburn colored eyes with hints of honey onto yours.

he pulled your head back and started to repeatedly slam his hips into your face over and over again, fucking your mouth sloppy. he enjoyed the lewd noises that echoed throughout the room, the sound of your wet mouth along with your subtle gagging, had him seeing white—and he immediately painted your mouth white.

your head was pushed down hard once again, which he forced you to drink up all of his warm, milky sperm. he pulled your head back after you gulped most of it down; your tongue hanging out of your mouth along with a mixture of your spit and his cum—it was a sight to see, one that turned him on immensely.

you were pulled up by your hair once more and he connected his soft lips with yours, his tongue swirling around your mouth—tasting himself. it was beyond hot and when he pulled away, you couldn’t help but whimper.

he chuckled and held your hair in a tight fist, “ready to show me why your deserve an a? show me how sorry you were for being a brat in my class?”

you nodded and immediately crawled onto his lap, as he sat in his leather chair, “yes sir~”

he watched with low eyes as you squatted right above him and gripped his hard cock, aligning it your entrance—pushing him in with a gasp. he was big, stretching your walls out past its normal comfort—making you whine and halt your movements.

“you can take it. you had all the mouth earlier, so take all of this dick~” his big hand found its was to your soft, plump ass again—smacking it hard; the fat jiggling from the impact. you whined and slowly moved your hips, grinding to ease the discomfort from his girth. the more you moved, the more hornier you began and soon your hips were slamming down onto his pelvis—ass clapping on his thighs.

the squelching of your cunt being fucked sloppy, along with your sweet soft mewls had him on the edge; he couldn’t help the moans that left his lips.

“sooo big—fuck—please baby, can I take some out~” you breathlessly asked, still hopping like a bunny on his dick. he chuckled and kept his hand on your ass, helping your ride his dick.

“that would be cheating, wouldn’t it doll? wouldn’t want that grade to stay the same if i did, hm?~” one of his fingers found its way to your other hole, pushing itself inside; stretching it out while also adding some new stimulating pleasure.

fuck, if you knew how good your professor could fuck and how great his dick was; you would’ve gotten yourself in trouble weeks ago.

that feeling that your loved so much was balling up and you wanted so desperately to get the chance to let it go, all over his cock. you smashed your lips onto his, hips still working overtime as you fucked yourself silly on his cock; cream building all over it.

his tip repeatedly hit your sensitive spot and soon your orgasm came crashing down, hard.

he watched as you bounced up and down, hips bucking repeatedly, while your walls clenched and unclenched around him—causing the older man to grunt and send multiple slaps to your ass. your vision got blurry and all your could see was specks of white; cumming so hard on his cock.

the feeling of your walls sporadically moving around him and the sounds of your sweet moans had him following in your steps, emptying his thick load inside of your sloppy wet pussy. he pushed his finger deeper into your ass and bucked his hips upwards, making your orgasm even more intense.

“that’s right, cum for me. show daddy how much you love this dick. show me why you deserve that a~” his words and the tone of his voice pushed your orgasm into overdrive and you couldn’t help the clear stream of liquid that show out and splattered all over his lower half.

he let out a primal groan along with one last thrust, making sure his seed was emptied deep inside of you. the two of you stayed like that, until you both were able to move—you slid off of him and saw the mess you made; his cock coated with your fluids. you couldn’t help but to get on your knees and clean up the mess you made, sucking his cock clean—earning another groan from the older male.

“oh, you just earned an b plus. but, if you come with me later and show me how much you deserve an a plus; I’ll gladly push your grade up and forget about this little endeavor.”

and just like that, your professor made your failed grade disappear.

#suguru geto smut #jujutsu kaisen geto #professor geto #professor suguru #jujutsu geto #geto x you #geto smut #jjk suguru #getou suguru x reader #jujutsu kaisen suguru #geto suguru #getou suguru x y/n #Suguru smut #geto x y/n #professor geto x you #nanivinsmoke

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evvyyypeters-fics · 3 months ago

Text

“Play Stupid Games, Win Stupid Prizes”

Kai Anderson x f!reader

Warnings! Smut, pōrn with no plot, Kai Anderson, punishment, bdsm?, dom x sub play, brat taming, spanking, f!ngering, f!recieving only, praise, dregrading, not proofread (I wrote this in one sitting), short m sweet (teehee)

Omg my first Kai smut. Lowkey thought abt my pookie @fear-is-truth while writing this

Probably will disappear again a bit after this one, I used my little creative spark up

SMACK!

The embarrassing sound pierces the air like a sword with each strike, echoing like the searing pain, yet is oh-so delicious. “3-30!” I squeak, my voice trembling. Kai gropes the flesh of my ass roughly, kneading it viciously with his palm as he lowers his head towards me, not enough to be at my level—he always makes sure to keep me in my place—as I hang over his knees. My ass is shamelessly curved into the air, bright red peeking under my hiked-up skirt and tight panties. “Wrong.” He snarls lowly into my ear, a sly amused grin paints his face as he starts the count-down over again. SMACK! I can’t tell if I’m moaning from pleasure or pain anymore, the two blending in with the numbness spreading through my sore cheeks as his large hand prepares to strike again and leave me purple. “O-one!” I stagger, squeaking. He flashes another amused grin as he brings the hand to strike again. I almost feel guilty with how wet my panties feel right now from this. My cunt throbbing and clenching needily, with greed. Almost guilty. The cycle repeats again and again, I can barely think anymore. I have no idea how I’m keeping track. All I can think about is the throbbing pain below my waist, and the jolts of pleasure that follow as my muscles tighten around the tight fabric of my panties, the recoil grinding me just enough against his jean-clad knee to make my pussy drool. “4-40!” I’m on the brink of tears again, the sobs choking my throat and old tears still staining my mascara riddled face, which I knew was only getting Kai off more. “Good lamb,” He coos in a deep, predatory tone as he praises me. His hand reaching to pet the top of my head. “That wasn’t so hard, now was it?” He says in a condescending tone, but it’s just enough praise and approval to make me ignore it. “I think you deserve a little treat now.” He purrs, and my cunt instantly clenches onto nothing and I feel the heat burn through my entire core. My body practically curves into the slightest of his touch, eager and unabashedly greedy. He hooks his finger around my panties and slides them halfway down my plump thighs, making sure to keep me bent over his lap. He starts by soothing the sore flesh of my ass, massaging and tracing the swollen skin tenderly, slowly sliding and working his way down to my slit. He gives a few taps which makes me shiver, pulling away to examine the slick on his fingers. “Shit…you’re so wet. What a dirty little slut you are,” He teases, shaking his head in faux-disapproval. Before I can react, his fingers slip easily into my cunt and he begins to massage the aching muscle. He digs immediately for my sweet spot and builds up the coil slowly, massaging with the intent to drive me crazy. As soon as my hips start to press back to meet his hand, he speeds up. I can barely process a coherent thought, moaning without any restraint as he finger blasts me. The lewd sounds erupting from all sides of me would usually make me shy or ashamed, but the sheer pleasure coursing through me made me numbed to any emotion other than pure lust and ectasy. “F-fuck! Kai! Kai!” I moaned, sounding like a mouse. I whined, begging to be consoled from the shocking amount of pleasure forced upon me. My legs were trembling in his hold even before the coil snapped, and a hot gush of molten arousal painted his lap. I was left breathless, panting like a dog with swollen, parted lips and my body softly shaking as I came down from the best rush I’ve ever had. He grips back my head by my hair, bunching it up messily between his fingers, causing me to wince as he forces my fucked out-face to look at him before I can barely comprehend. “Lets hope you’ve learned your lesson.” He spits. The game is over, and he’ll go back to being the same old Kai. At least I got a good orgasm out of the whole ordeal, that’s a lot more than nothing. Which is the usual.

Taglist (you can be added or removed at any time):

@fear-is-truth @xkaisxjazzxsingerx @lemoniiiiiii @jazz-berry @marchsfreakshow @colinzabelswife @dearlizzies @am3ricanh0rrorwh0re @xrag-dollx @lacucarachapisser @alittleobsessedbitch @n0tonlin3 @bellalove69420 @songbird-garden

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ghoulsbounty · 6 months ago

Note

which of the goggins gang do you think prefers to be praised and which do you think like to be degraded?

oh, boy! i could go on about this for days...

baby billy

strongly prefers praise in a relationship. often feels undervalued by his family which has left him with a deep-seated need for constant affirmation. his bravado is a front for how inadequate he truly feels, so he needs you to recognise and celebrate his talents and achievements, and give him the validation he craves.

loves to be adored. growing up in the spotlight spoiled him with the amount of love he received, but now that doesn't come as easy to him. let him know how enamoured you are with him through words of affirmation or touch, and he will be content for a while.

it's less about reassurance and more about confirmation for what he believes to be true; that even at his age, he is the best. let him know how good he makes you feel, especially in comparison to men younger than him.

there is a part of him that finds playful degradation exciting, but only in the bedroom. he sometimes enjoys light teasing and role-playing that still makes him feel in control without crossing into genuinely hurtful territory.

he prefers when the degradation presents him a challenge, rather than attacking his character. call him an old man and ask if he can keep up with you, it will ignite his need to prove himself and he won't stop until you're singing his praises as you cum.

bonus: cock worship. do it and he will keep you around forever.

boyd crowder

although he craves validation, degradation feels more familiar and almost comforting in its predictability. however, he has developed a thick skin from the years of disrespect and neglect growing up, especially from his father, and he doesn't take kindly to degrading words against his character.

initially finds it difficult to accept praise from you, he's so used to betrayal and often questions the sincerity behind your compliments.

eventually learns to accept that you value him for the man that he is. acknowledge his intelligence and his strategic mind, or tell him that he makes you feel safe, and he will be putty in your hands.

he craves loyalty and adoration from you. he strives to be a protector while also using your presence to challenge himself into being a better man. praising him makes him feel desired and capable of being the man you deserve.

only wants to do right by you and would never even raise his voice, but if you decided to degrade him (past the point of teasing banter) he'd tear you down with a calculated, calm voice until you're apologising and on your knees for him.

bonus: body worship. he can do this for hours, please let him.

lee russell

both his upbringing and career have been marked by a fear of inadequacy. he thrives on compliments and positive reinforcement to bolster his fragile ego.

degradation is extremely damaging for him. any negative remarks or criticism, no matter how small, is enough to trigger his defensive behaviour and lead to an explosive outcome.

however, in the bedroom he does like to experiment in light degradation as long as it is accompanied by praise or rewards. lee is a brat and will fight for dominance, but if you manage to get him to submit, he enjoys if you deny him or make him beg.

tell him that he's big and makes you feel full, or alternatively you can tell him that you can't feel enough of him and he will fuck you harder just to prove a point.

don't push it too far though, because lee has little patience and a lot of rage. too many comments about his pathetic whimpers and needy attitude will spill over into him taking back control and delivering a punishment.

he feels more at ease knowing that you can dish out tough love when the moment calls for it as that aligns with his understanding of a relationship, but you best follow it with a tender kiss.

bonus: power play and brat taming kink. lee can be a pushy bottom.

wade felton

having been through the emotional turmoil of losing his spouse, along with navigating the difficult world of dating, wade deeply craves affirmation and positive reinforcement from you.

he values open communication and mutual respect, and he thrives in a relationship where love and appreciation are openly expressed.

confident in the bedroom and believes in his ability to please, but likes you to tell him your thoughts and feelings. give him verbal instructions on how you want to be pleased and he will do so diligently.

praise is something that makes him a little flustered at first, but he finds himself purposely trying to coax more from you. tell him how attractive he is, how good he makes you feel, and he will be a whimpering, eager mess.

while he might be open to playful banter or light teasing, any form of degradation would likely make him uncomfortable. the same goes for if you ask him to degrade you.

bonus: soft and vanilla. will eat you out for hours, tell him he's doing good.

cooper howard/the ghoul

his transformation into a ghoul has left him with deep insecurities about his appearance and worth, although he refuses to acknowledge it. because of this, it will take him a long time to feel comfortable enough to let you see him naked, if he ever even does. compliments and affirmations will help in moving this along, but he won't ever truly believe that you could see past the ghoulification, and too much praise will seem forced to him.

in the bedroom, cooper’s needs are complex. his intimate desires involve a form of degradation that aligns with his deep-seated insecurities. when he fucks you, he enjoys pushing with a combination of pointed remarks and well-timed thrusts until he teases cruel words from your reluctant lips.

he wants to hear you admit to feeling ashamed for letting him, a ghoul, be inside you. he needs to hear your disgust at the thought of him filling you, even though you don't genuinely believe it and will keen when you feel his release coat your walls. it gives him a sense of control and a twisted validation in hearing you demean both yourself and him, because he can't quite believe that you want him.

he knows your words are drawn out by his actions rather than your own feelings, but it allows him to explore his deepest vulnerabilities while simultaneously feeling safe knowing that you are there, reacting to every touch.

it gives an emotional release that he doesn't allow himself otherwise, and for a short while after he will let you shower him with affection until he closes himself off again.

bonus: self-denial. won't cum until you give him what he wants to hear.

taglist:

@its-in-the-woods @lolaalee @megangovier @coolranchdavidian @justme12200

@ivyinthesun @ladygreylavender11 @crowley--aziraphale @its-a-show-stoppin-number

@muschimuschi @serrantsaloto @catclaw1 @staarboyyy @shinydixon

@spookysquids @inthemercifuldark @itsyellow @caspersshadow @honey-tree-evil-eye

#baby billy freeman x reader #boyd crowder x reader #wade felton x reader #lee russell x reader #cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x reader #boyd crowder headcanon #baby billy headcanon #lee russell headcanon #wade felton headcanon #cooper howard head canon #the ghoul headcanon #smut headcanons #walton goggins x reader #anon #answered

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baby-tini · 5 months ago

Note

What kind of doms are all mikey timelines?

TW- Abuse in Kanto!Mikeys part.

I am not the most knowledgeable when it comes to the BDSM community, so if there is any misinformation or harmful content please let me know, so that I can fix it.

Toman!Mikey- Daddy Dom. He's both strict and playful, the perfect balance of a dom. He's also very heavy on aftercare and he makes sure that you're well taken care of, even if he's horribly tired. Because, he prioritizes you above everything and anyone else. He definitely feels like the type too let you just play with his hair as he sits in meetings with his legs spread as he barley listens to his, already, anxious lackeys that are trying so hard too not fuck up and receive a round in their skull, especially in front of you. While he does have rules with the high expectations that you follow them to a T, you usually have a lot of freedom and can do as you please, as longs you're not getting into trouble, because depending on what you did, the punishment will not be too nice for you... or your ass.

Manila!Mikey- Brat Taming Dom. I've stated this already here, but I'll happily dive into it a bit more. Manila!Mikey gets a sick kick out of your disobedience, it's not the act in it's self, but more of what it always leads to, which is punishment. He'll let you do as you please, just watching you as he sits on the couch as you stomp your foot on the floor, with a loud whine for whatever it is that you're wanting in that very moment. His face blank as his eyes stay locked on you before his arm lurches forward and he has your shirt in a tight grip as you quickly stumble forward into his lap before he puts you on the floor, on your knees, looking up at him as he pulls your head back, his hand tugging at the roots. His other hand squeezed tightly around your jaw as he tilts his head to the side. The look in his obsidian eyes empty as he stares you down, your lips sealed as you hold your breath, your eyes deer-wide as you wait for him too do something.

Kanto!Mikey- Sadistic Dom. Now, it's no big surprise that this version of Mikey is mean and harsh, he makes it very obvious that he is too be respected and never questioned and that's what you do. Because you know Kanto!Mikey can fly off the handle within seconds, being a relationship is like walking on eggshells and you have too be very cautious with every question you ask and everything you do because it's heavily monitored by him or his lackeys. He thrives off the fearful look in your eyes, because that's what his whole gang is gang is based on, the fear of Mikey and he knows that. Fear is still respect at the end of the day, and as soon as you see him walking to you, his composure calm but you know that it's the farthest thing from good and the consequences will be dire as you feel his hand grab you up by your hair and drag you away, some of the strands being tugged out.

Bonten!Mikey- Hard Dom. I think this version of Mikey would thrive in a dynamic like this, simply because control is a very big thing for Mikey and he expects complete obedience and he's not too happy when you display behaviors that are against that, in any way really. While you know he's in control, he also enacts this control in less obvious ways as well, such as, choosing your clothes, deciding how you get your nails done and even how you style your hair that day. Your days are very scheduled, not fully packed, he does let you have some down time and relax, he's not always hounding over you, you have time for your own activities, but he does control a large part of your day. He, just like Kanto!Mikey and Toman!Mikey, has rules for you, but his rules are more day-to-day based instead of in general, especially with how all over the place his schedule can be, so he just accommodates your rules for that day based on himself.

Street Racer!Mikey- Pleasure Dom. He is very giving and fully focuses on satisfying you before he even lets you think about touching him. The foreplay with him is long and welcoming as he drawls out your pleasure and makes you cum for him over and over again, leaving your head all cloudy as he has youm laid on your back and spread for him, but it's not an uncomfortable vulnerability with him, it's very welcoming. He makes you want too be vulnerable with him because it's a scarce kind of trust that people rarely feel, but with Mikey, it's so easy too let him do everything for you, for you too let him make you feel good because he always makes it worth every second of it. He's so intuned with you during these intimate moments as well, always checking with you, not for every little thing because he knows the tiniest of twitches in your muscles when you need a break or are, quite often, insatiable. He makes sure that he pays close attention, but he does expect you too verbalize what you want or need, sometimes too be a tease but more often, your verbal reassurance.

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shysuccubusstuff · 7 months ago

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feral! wuthering waves males pt. 2.1

Content: husband! Calcharo; soft dom, riding, , belly bulge + brat taming, size difference, hard dom, degradation, overstimulation + aftercare. Non proof-reader.

Note: I saw quite a few ppl liked the other so here goes the second :)) I just noticed that all of them noticed your "joke" but to be fair, they are what they are, how would they NOT notice?? Btw, I always put dear Calcharo as if he was a softie with his SO cause I really see him that way!

I will write a second part/third part for one more character so please wait for it!

Calcharo knew your intentions from the start, just seeing your stupid (yet cute) face all grinny while you kept pushing him to taste your "delicious meal" only made it even clearer. Despite he told himself that it was dumb, the whole thing of acting as if he hadn't notice anything weird, he did pretend, how could he not after seeing you all giggly and happy because you thought he hadn't notice ahything? So he did it, he ate the whole cake, not leaving a single crumb, even when you told him (after around 4 slices) that he shouldn't eat THAT much, he still did, forcing that extremely sweet cake down his throat, even despite he hated the sweet taste of the cream. Of course, this lead to an extremely fast effect of the aphrodisiac, hitting him like a truck right at the kitchen, his knees almost falling to the ground. Despite that, he was still (somewhat) in control, lifting through the air and taking you to the room, getting rid of his clothes with great urge, throwing them around the room before letting himself fall to the bed, taking you with him and letting you rest on top of him.

"Baby...I think you have broken me..." His voice was even more deep than before, a bit raspy, almost as if he had just woken up. His face was really red, almost making him seem as if he had a fever, you touched the tip of his nose, almost smiling at the cute expression he made. Sadly, the cute moment didn't last much longer, as you suddenly felt something poke against your ass, his expression changing into a victorious one. Without losing any more time, his hands were already lifting your skirt, taking your underwear and ripping it as if it had been made of paper, before you were able to complain, his arms wrapped around your back, breaking the distance between your mouths and starting a deep kiss, leaving you breathless in the process. He kept kissing you, licking your reddened lips while his erection kept rubbing against your unclothed cunt, making your head even dizzier, his raspy voice whispering against your ear: "Can I put it in? Say yes, please? I'll make you feel so good baby... Rub your insides just like you need..." You were simply able to nod, as he quickly lifted you, slowly inserting himself inside you, making you whine from the stretch as his dick started to form a bulge in your stomach. It wasn't until his whole length was inside you that you were able to breath, his pupils forming cute hearts as he felt your delicious walls tightening around him just like he liked it.

"Baby you feel so good, did you miss me inside? I've missed you like crazy... being without you is such a hustle... Let me make up for my absence, yeah?" As he says that, his hips are already moving, his fingers interlocking with you, while his lips keep kissing your pretty face, his mind too far gone to even think of how embarrassing would this be the next morning. Calcharo kept moving his hips slowly, almost as if he feared he could break you if he wasn't careful enough, making the pleasure build painfully slow, almost making you cry for the great lust he was building up without even trying. One of his hands was always occupied, always having your fingers interlocked with his, the other kept wandering around your precious body, sometimes playing with your nipples, pitching them, flicking them, other times, his hand kept playing with your sensitive cunt, playing with your little clit, caressing it and suddenly stopping, making you let a whiny moan as he simply smiled mischievously. His lips were still peppering soft kisses all over your body, sometimes your neck, others your squishy cheeks... you were being treated as the most precious treasure in the world by your dear husband.

It took around 15 minutes until Calcharo was finally able to get back part of his composure, seeing your lovely face all flushed as your hips were giving up from doing (almost) all the work while he was under the effect of the drug. Feeling embarrassed as his past actions started to sip into him, you quickly noticed how his grip on your hand was loosing up, almost making him see rather cute to your eyes.

"Are you feeling flustered cause you showed me your cute side?" Of course you couldn't just hold your taunt... And of course Calcharo couldn't simply ignore some sorry little brat making fun of him, his hands quickly gripped your waist, smiling wickedly as he started to move you up and down his length, making yor eyes roll to your skull as he kept hitting your cervix with the tip of his dick. "Didn't think you were that dumb of a brat, guess I'll just have to put you back in place, uh? How is it that your head is so fucking empty that I leave you just for a few days and you forget everything I've teach you?" You were only able to whine, your hands clinging onto his chest as you tried to make him slow down, nails digging into his flesh and making little crescent marks all over him. Unfortunately, even despite you kept pleading him to stop his harsh trusts as you were about to pass out from your fourth orgasm, his face remained straight, even when your tears were falling down your cheeks from the overstimulation and the drool was falling down your drool, in fact, ot almost seemed as if he even sped up the rhythm, making your sorry brain melt into some kind of mesh.

"I'm sowwy, I won't make fun of you, yeah? So please forgive me...!" As soon as you said that, his trusts became a bit slower, not before one of his hands started to caress your clit until you came undone on his dick, squirting all over him, letting a poor whine leave your mouth before letting your legs give up against his chest.

After a few minutes, Calcharo got up, slowly lifting you, taking his cock out and letting his seed flow down your thighs, he carefully took you to the bathroom, warming up some warm water in the bathtub and letting you both squeaky clean. Before going back to the bed, he changed the sheets, leaving the others to clean and finally getting both of you inside the bed, thoroughly covering you with the sheets, not before leaving a soft kiss against your forehead, caressing your soft hair and finally sleeping to your side.

#fanfiction #smut #x reader #wuthering waves #wuwa x reader #calcharo wuthering waves #calcharo x reader #calcharo

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ermnmika · 2 years ago

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taming bakugou is a big challenge for you.

!warnings!: NSFW, MDNI. gn!dom!reader, sub!bakugo, light bondage, dirty talk, degradation, physical pain, handjob, choking (everything listed bkg receiving). reader is a bit sadistic.

he's pressed to the sheets under your strong torso, squrming and snarling. his hands are tied securely behind his back by your own tie you wore to work today, palms warm and sweaty as if he was ready to set off explosions at you at any given moment. as if you'd let him. you chuckle at the thought.

"katsuki." you murmur into his ear gently, so close, extremely close, your lips almost touching the lobe, and his breath hitches for a moment. he needs more, he craves it, but he won't admit it. you decide to give him a chance at first. "dear. be a brat again and i won't give you what you want."

"you better get off me and let me fuck you myself." he spits bitterly, voice soaked in usual irritation. your eyes widen in displeasure, nails digging into the skin of his strong shoulders, leaving pink marks. "i know how much you want my cock."

a scowl twists your face. not good.

"is that so?" you sit back, ass placed on his lower back, right above his throbbing dick, and you push your hips as hard as you can. his dick gets squished under your body weight, painfully so, and he lets out a muffled groan. "then why would you let me tie you in the first place, hm? why would you let me get on top of you? take control over your body?"

your voice is sweet, but filled with poison that beats all the air out of his lungs. he grits his teeth and wriggles in desperate attempts to get out of your grip, dick almost getting crushed and yet still extremely hard, but right now you are stronger, and you refuse to give him any opportunity to escape your punishment.

"admit it, bakugo." you lean forward, grab his hair in a hard grip of your fingers, and press his flushed face into the sheets. then, with your other hand you smack his back, making him flinch, feeling the muscles stiff under your harsh touch. he barely stifles a moan and you chuckle under your breath. "you like being treated like a slut. you like being owned. how will the world react if they see one of the top pro-heroes whimpering in pleasure from being hit?"

you hit again, and again, and again, and each time he shifts uncontrollably, whimpers through still gritted teeth, tears collect in the corners of his eyes. you tug at his blond locks so he raises his head and meets your blown out pupils. your gaze is dark, brows furrowed, but you seem very concentrated and he feels a small speck of fear tug at his heart. you notice it, but don't give yourself away.

"sh-shut up." he tries to intervene but he sounds so, so pathetic.

"you fucking brat." you let go of his hair but he's still looking at you, taking in your stern and unhinged expression and flushed face. your eyes fall on the bright red spot in the form of your hand on his back, right under his shoulderblades, and the wave of pleasure hits you again. "you love this. you love the humiliation and you love the pain."

grin paints your face as he hides his in the sheets, thus proving your point, so you decide it's finally time to turn him on his back. you flip him over and drag his stiff body to lean on the headboard, and cage his thighs between your legs.

he's breathing heavily, sweat drops falling from his face onto his chest, eyes dazed with a spark of anger, mouth agape. his lips are puffy and pretty, sparkling from wetness, and you want to kiss them so badly but you restrain yourself. he didn't deserve it.

"just touch me already, you damn- ahh," he doesn't get to finish his sentence when you wrap your fingers around the tip of his cock, not squeezing, just placing your hand on it. he moans loudly just from this small contact and you smile maliciously, taking in his fastened breathing and half-lidded eyes.

it was a trick. because right at the next second you remove your hand and slap his twitching dick, making him almost fold in half while shouting from the strike of pain.

you smile at him, innocently fluttering your eyelashes as if you didn't just smack the shit out of his cock. "does this count?"

he presses back against the headboard again, his legs now shaking. his wet hair clings to his forehead, you know it always annoys him but you purposefully don't remove it. you meet his gaze and there's a huge abyss of hate and resentment, but you know the motherfucker is thriving right now. he craves to be put in his place.

"your silence tells me it's still not enough." you hum, and bring yourself closer, almost towering over his form. he waits for a strike again, his whole body stiffening, but you take his cock in your hand and spread the precum over his length, agonizingly slow, rubbing over his veins. he relaxes after a few strokes, the features on his face smoothing out, his mouth falling agape again, and you take the opportunity to catch his lower lip between your teeth, biting and sucking on it. he kisses back, hips moving against your hand for more friction, and you swallow his moans.

you keep stroking him up and down, let go of his lips and nose his cheek, your movements becoming a bit faster now. "hmm... katsuki, would you like to be choked?"

judging from his fucked out expression, he can't think clearly right now, eyes rolling to the back of his head from pleasure. you grab his chin and turn his face towards you, your hand still moving on his length. "katsuki. yes or no." your voice is steel and demanding.

you wait for a few moments, searching for an answer on his face, until he mumbless a small "yes." and you nod.

you win.

he's already barely breathing, but you're about to make it worse. you shift a little to a more comfortable position, and to give bakugo some time to prepare himself. after that you clutch at his neck, slowly and carefully adding pressure while you brush over his cock wirh your fingers. he's squirming, not able to hold still, so you add more pressure and he wheezes, his cock twitching. you bite your own moans and move your hand faster, and faster, and he can't handle it anymore. he tries to breathe and suffocates under your touch, and you're breaking him, you're breaking bakugo katsuki.

you rub your own wetness against his limp thigh, watching his face become more pale, mouth completely open and trying to catch air.

"my little slut likes to be choked by me, hm? that's it, katsuki. know your place. know who you belong to."

and just like that, with his eyes rolling back and you removing your hand just in time, he inhales sharply and cums, white hot liquid falling on the muscles of his chest. you watch this beautiful view, taking it all in. he chokes on air, back arching in immense, overwhelming pleasure. his whole world is being destroyed in front of his eyes.

and you were the one who did it. with your own hands.

dedicated to all subby baku enjoyers. i stand with you.

#katsuki bakugō #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x y/n #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugou smut #mha bakugou #mha x reader #mha smut #bakugou imagine #bakugou drabble #bnha smut #bnha imagines #bnha x y/n #bnha x reader #sub!bakugou #dom!y/n #dom!reader #filthy smut

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chosokamosbf · 8 months ago

Text

(N)SFW JASON TODD / RED HOOD HCs.

☆ 18+ only/no minors.

WARNINGs: 18+, gn (gender non-implied)! reader, daddy/mommy kink, mentions of abuse (jason nor reader are doing it), minor mention of blood, sub/dom, pain play, fear play, "prey/predator," brat taming, reader is referred to as "prince(ss)" and "sweetheart" once.

WORD COUNT: 900-ish+

Based on canon, I firmly believe he's on the ace spectrum, specifically demisexual. And even then, he rarely experiences sexual attraction at all for his partners. This isn't because he doesn't love them (enough) or any other assumptions similar to that; it just doesn't happen much.

Furthermore, as much as he'll indulge you here and there if you do, (sexual) intimate moments with Jason would be far and few between, making them all the more important to him.

He's a switch, leaning on dom and top. Mostly because he likes the control and is more comfortable that way. Getting him to be submissive instead is a gradual endeavor. He doesn't hate it; it just takes a lot of patience and trust.

First and foremost on actual kinks, I think Jason has a thing for "daddy," both on the receiving and giving ends. He likes the title, and he's definitely the type to whisper something like, "C'mere, sweetheart. Give daddy a kiss." in even private, innocuous moments just to mess with you.

(Note: I don't think he'd have as much of a mommy kink because—y'know.)

Rough sex is a top favorite of his. This goes hand in hand with play wrestling as a form of foreplay, breathing heavily down on his partner just to continue that energy into bed with sweat-slick bodies. It's less about "winning," and more about being allowed to confide in someone in a way and the fun that can come with it. He wouldn't be against being the sub in this situation either, even if his partner is weaker than him, because he knows how important control can be in bed, so he'll let them win. Sometimes. He trusts you, and he wants you both to feel good.

Degradation/praise wise, he'll give either out depending on the moment. He's going to tease and utter dirty shit like, "C'mooon, prince(ss). You're sounding like a real whore for someone who didn't want it a couple minutes ago—" if you tried to struggle against. It depends more on the moment than position because he could be pounding into you and huffing out praise right next to your ear with what little air he's catching, to riding you, telling you to keep up while his head is already thrown back.

He enjoys pegging a lot, but as always, it's going to take some convincing to get him to comply.

Brat taming is another go-to of his, along with sub/dom. On the other end, it seems to be a near equal opposite—he's not into it, and it can get uncomfortable real fast. There's a few times he'll indulge himself, and they're all after more intense days to sort of solidify the trust he has in you. You're not going to hurt him; he's still in control in a way.

He doesn't seem like he'd like being on the receiving end of any sort of pain play. He already deals with chronic pain on a day-to-day basis. To have it overwhelm one of the few aspects of intimacy that he loves and simultaneously take his head off things for once just doesn't seem like it'd be enjoyable for him. No, on the giving end—

(Note: I'm not into pain play myself, nor do I even know what even makes it enjoyable for people, so I'll be segmenting this with fear play and "prey/predator.")

It wouldn't be something he'd ever bring up, far from it, but if it's what you like, he'll gladly take a knife in a steady hand to softly trace it down from your stomach to your underwear. In a smile almost cruel, he'd drag it across just enough so a few drops could be licked back up if you asked nicely enough again.

Jason knows you're just asking for it if you're weaker than him and bring up the idea of a different kind of foreplay. He'd pick a place, somewhere with a lot of spots you could try to hide away and run to (an abandoned office of sorts is the best go; he's not going to risk infections). Just for him to stalk, pin you down with ease. If the spot he found his little prey in isn't satisfactory (or clean) enough, he'd have no qualms settling you over his shoulder like a sack and manhandling you where he wants it.

He definitely isn't going to go too far, though. As well-trained as he is, he's going to be especially attentive after any scenes involving that. Sadism isn't a big one for him. He'll enjoy it in the moment but then feel real guilty afterwards, so, just as a reminder, aftercare goes both ways.

I don't know why some people think he's into "dark" (ex. pedo stuff such as ageplay and actual rape.) kinks when he's canonically and literally has hunted down murdered several (sexual) abusers before. If you try to break boundaries, he's going to be reconsidering the relationship, and quite possibly if he even knew you as a person.

On a lighter note, consent is a big thing for him, and he's also big on aftercare. A go-to would be a bath for the both of you (stuffing the sheets in the washer right before and bandaging any "scratches" if need be.), then cuddling. Depending on whether he has the energy, he'll pop something in the microwave real quick. (Takeout is usually a last resort because the last thing he wants while enjoying the afterglow with a partner is social interaction with a stranger.)

If you wear make-up and it gets ruined by the end, like in the latter part of the previous section, if he can, he's going to help you wipe off the mess and maybe help you reapply it as a form of care.

#i am so sorry . for the truck load of tags coming up #jason todd x reader #jason todd x gn reader #dc comics x reader #red hood x reader #red hood x gn reader #red hood dc #jason todd smut #jason todd imagine #dc comcis #mine #daddy kink tw #fear play tw #abuse mention #gn reader

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screampied · 4 months ago

Note

hear me out: submissive sukuna with a muzzle.

it's no secret that little demon has a biting problem, always sinking his fangs and marking your body whenever he can. nothing a good muzzle won't be able to fix. he'd fight against it so hard, the metallic wire cage frictioning on your skin as he pathetically tries to bite through it in a desperate attempt at imposing himself. he growls, hisses, throws a fit, relentlessly trying to keep some of his dignity but truth being told, he's secretly enjoying it. the more he protests, the more his brain turns to mush. it wouldn't take long before whimpers get thrown into the mixture of animalistic sounds he was letting out, his eyes rolling to the back of his head and the red tint of his flushed cheeks peeking out from titanium wires and the leather straps that cover most of his face. as he gets tired of fighting, whimpers and ragged moans become all that manages to escape his covered lips before his body finally collapses.

~ 🐈‍⬛🪷

ohhhh kitty flower i feared u cooked. oh to brat tame the sukuna ryomen. i kinda feel like sukuna has such a pretty face when he cums idk. his eyes would roll all back n everything omg need it BAD

#✰ミ݁ ׅ ࣪ 𝒔𝒒𝒖𝒊𝒓𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒆.#🐈‍⬛🪷 anon

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celestiaras · 3 months ago

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‧₊˚✧ ❛[ with you next to him ]❜

━━━ .°˖✧ requested by anons ˚₊ ⊹

ft. ver vermillion x f! reader — xsoleil, nijisanji en

╰₊✧ he’s trying to sleep, but his needs overpower his fatigue┊1.5k words

contains: smut!! dom reader & sub ver┊somnophilia, sleepy sex, wearing his shirt & lacy panties, mentioned masturbation, intercrural/thigh fucking, riding, implied breeding kink, orgasm denial & slight brat-taming? cut-off ending

➤ author's note: unfortunately, i couldn’t figure out how to make him a dom in this one & i have no idea why it took so long to write, so sorry for continuously pushing back when i would post this when i promised it so ages ago. it’s not even that good or long because i’ve been dragging it out for so long, but fuck it, we ball

juggling several heavy responsibilities was something that ver grew accustomed to ever since he was elected student council president in freshman year and carried the occupation until now, but only being able to return back home at any time past sunset during early summer should be illegal. he can’t complain though, it was his own decision to continue helping out xsoleil institute after he graduated and to guide the person who would take his title when he left for college. there were simply too many memories and too many friendships created within the walls of the building for him to let go so quickly. one of them included meeting you, his high school sweetheart whom he positively believed was the love of his life and the one he would end up marrying someday.

since his parents were on a business trip and wouldn’t be home for the next few days, you were actually already waiting at his place after he invited you over a few hours earlier. quality time nights like this were infrequent and risky since you had to wait until the entire family was out to call the other over and could have gotten caught in any moment, but that hasn’t happened yet so these sleepovers still go on behind their backs. besides, both of you were quickly able to navigate the other’s home like it was your own and even knew where to escape just in case someone unexpectedly showed up, there was no fear about it anymore.

he was so goddamn exhausted that he wasn’t sure if it was possible to spark enough energy to do anything that wasn’t simply cuddling and dozing off in each other’s arms. fortunately, it was one of your many favorite bonding activities and you were tired as well. you were found lounging in his bed on your stomach with your legs kicking around while scrolling on social media, smiling and rolling over with outstretched arms to welcome him but looking like you were about to pass out at any moment. it looks like you had a long day at work today and ver greeted you with a kiss on the forehead, telling you that he was going to take a shower, that you could finally sleep now, and how he’ll join you once he is done.

all he planned to do was to doze off in your embrace and to get down to whatever shenanigans you could think of in the morning after a revitalized rest, he swears that he originally had no other intentions. perhaps stepping out into the cold air after being splashed by warm water woke him up, but he only noticed something particular about your choice of clothing right as he was about to lay down next to your slumbering form.

you were wearing a t-shirt of his, a casual one he wore around the house that had the name of the event he got it at for free plastered across the front and back with big bolded letters. it’s nothing too serious, you probably just forgot to bring something more comfortable than your work uniform to wear, and it’s not like it’s the first time you stole something of his to wear.

it wasn’t really the shirt itself that caused something to stir within him, falling at your upper thigh and hiding your curves with its loosely rectangular shape, it was actually the way your legs were positioned to flash your cute lacy red underwear to his eyes.

he needed to blink a few times to process it before instinctively covering his face to hide his blush, tilting his head to get a better glimpse of it like the closeted pervert he is— or maybe you’re the pervert who did this intentionally to get a rise out of him. he has no way of knowing, but he does know that there’s a little damp spot that stained the fabric a little darker color which was driving his imagination wild about whether you were having a wet dream or were playing with yourself while he was away.

whatever the answer was, it’s safe to say that he was now way too horny to sleep.

laying on his side of the bed, pressing his face into the pillow, slowly jerking himself off, trying to muffle the sinful noises threatening to spill from his mouth. it’s different from when he’s alone, a lot more intense when the object of his desire is resting a mere few inches away from him. he can’t remember if he’s ever been in a situation similar to this one before and how he got out of it if he did, his mind is too fogged to recall and it’s becoming borderline painful to continue this way.

he turned on his side to meet you face-to-face after tucking himself back into his briefs, his gaze falling on your kissable lips, and his eyelashes fluttered shut knowing he couldn’t keep this up for much longer. “babe? are you awake?” he whispered, hoping that you weren’t too deep in slumber so that he could gently wake you and then beg to fuck you like the loser he was being.

you murmured something and turned to the other side at the minor disturbance, but remained mostly unmoved by his efforts. guilt started to settle in for trying to wake you up, leading him to decide his next move in a frenzy of horniness where desperate times call for desperate measures.

he wrapped his arms around you and pulled the two of you closer together, movements slowly and languid to avoid rousing you any more than he already had. you smelled of his shampoo and faint remnants of the vanilla perfume you sprayed early in the morning, making him slightly dizzy as he inhaled the scent. his hand snaked around one of your thighs to part them, slotting his pre-cum and spit-slicked cock into the little gap.

your skin was softer than flower petals compared to his hands which were slightly calloused and worn away from gripping pencils while studying most of his life. heaven truly was between your thighs, he almost felt like he could have busted right there and then.

still overwhelmed with fatigue, his pace was pretty sluggish, completely immersed in the feeling of his twitching length being massaged by the silky smoothness of your skin. it was like floating on clouds, crossing the lines of reality and the realm of dreams, warm and cozy with mixtures of sinful pleasures and tired lust-induced hazes.

he wasn’t going to last long, grip tightening onto your sides as his sloppy thrusts became quicker to chase his orgasm, panting like a dog with sweat beads forming on his face to stick his red hair to his pale skin. just when he was on the precipice of ecstasy, he felt you stir in his arms before he found himself face-to-face with you once again, looking into your eyes sparking with mischief despite the weariness behind them.

“hm? what’cha doing?” you teased with a little giggle, words slightly slurred together, moving your head to kiss him.

“‘m sorry for waking you…” he murmured into your mouth, pink from both exertion and embarrassment.

it was a bit late to ask, but you didn’t mind, arching your back to press the curve of your ass further into him teasingly, “aww, couldn’t have waited until morning? poor baby…” you covered your mouth in a yawn before turning around to press a lazy kiss on his lips, pushing him back on his back to situate yourself in his lap and placing one on his chest. “do you want me to help you out?” you smiled as he nodded furiously, allowing your hand to reach into your panties which were getting more soaked by the second and pumping two of your fingers into your needy cunt. “don’t worry, i’ll take care of you…”

although sleep pulled at your eyes, you still tried to keep them open to look at your handsome boyfriend’s face as you lined up his erection with your slit and eased him into you with a sigh. he wasn’t the biggest, but still the perfect size to fill you up and make you gasp as you took him inch by inch until he bottomed out. you shifted your weight to keep him still, preventing him from squirming or trying to buck his hips up into yours.

“oh, no, baby, i’m setting the pace this time. you need to be punished for waking me up, so you can cum when i say so.”

“please?”

you tutted in disappointment, “no, i’ll stay up all night if i have to until you learn your lesson. just be good for me, okay? who knows, maybe i’ll even let you cum inside of me as a reward— you would like that, wouldn’t you?”

request one [ if your goods with it! dom!ver x reader somnophilia! <3 common prompt but, ver comes home tired from work/student council duties p late and stuff and really just wants to spend the night with reader but! unfortunately, reader's sleeping :( oh wtv would he do :( you can hv full rein of wtv else :33 i would just like to ask that it isn't non-con (dub-con okay!) :D and that's all! hope u have fun w this !! :33 ]

request two [ i just wanted to say that, i love your works! my request is maybe riding ver? also breeding kink if possible idk just don't overwork yourself 💕 ]

#📜. her works #ver vermillion #ver vermillion x reader #ver vermillion smut #nijisanji #nijisanji x reader #nijisanji smut #nijisanji en #nijisanji en x reader #nijisanji en smut #xsoleil #xsoleil x reader #xsoleil smut

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ryiju-muunie · 7 months ago

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IM OBSESSED with professor!nanami but brat taming style!

I can be GOOD- If you want to be BAD

18+ viewer discretion is advised

Fem!reader/professor!Kento Nanami Warning: DRABBLE, brat taming, flogging, whipping, degradation Word count: 268 DESC: Your professor likes to take his frustration out on you after class

Your professor was professional about your relationship when you were in class. When the two of you were in class you were addressed by your first name and given a passing glance. He never paid attention to you in a way that would be considered suspicious. Kento had started this relationship by accident and he didn’t want it to get figured out on a count of a mistake. You were his sex object all things considered. Kento came to you when he needed to relieve his stress, nothing more, and you let him. It was a perfect relationship where you gave your everything and he broke you until he was happy. You loved being used like a filthy whore, being bent over your desk as he flogged you with that flogger he loved so much, leaving your ass a stinging red color. It hurt so well, how he’d whip you until you begged for mercy. It helped that you were the perfect brat, needing to be tamed. It was the perfect transaction.

“D-daddy…” You whined head pressed into his desk and ass in the air, “P-please.. I’ll be good!” And with that, Nanami whipped your behind once more. No matter how much you begged and pleaded, he’d only stop when he felt you learned your lesson.

“Not yet, whore. I fear you still deserve some punishment,” your hair, messily placed in a ponytail was yanked backward, so his words could linger in your ear, “I’m right, aren’t I?”

“Yes!” You sobbed, choking back more tears as he pushed your head back into his pile of papers, “You’re right..”

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klttn · 5 months ago

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since you’re asking for rq’s could you do lute brat taming reader? make it rough as you want! i just know she’s the absolute meanest dom<333

-🩰

first lute fic yay yay yay nd rough and mean? just perfect, we all know lute would be so mean n hurt us so good <3 hope i do it justice

— 𝜗𝜚 lute x female reader nsfw. hard dom!lute. slapping. spanking. lil bit of choking. mocking. humiliation. praise. dumbification. lute is just so mean. knife play.

“stand down,” adam ordered, your blade mere inches from lutes throat as you sparred on the mats in training. but that wasn’t going to happen. not when you were feeling this bratty. this desperate for her to just fight back.

“if she wants me to stand down she can yield herself,” you spat back into lutes face, not taking your gaze off of her.

lutes head lolled to the side as her attention drifted to adam’s, no fear or panic in her voice, “i’ve got this sir, let her come at me,” just complete composure and cockiness, “i can handle her.” an arrogant smirk plastered on her face like you weren’t straddling her hips, pinning her wrists and had angelic steel pressed to her throat.

scoffing, adam bent down eye level to you both, “if you two fuck on this mat, you better shout me over to watch,” he whispered before storming off to check on the other sparring angels.

you rolled your eyes, taking your time to tighten your grip in attempt to have lute squirming beneath you. but it was no use. lute looked like she was.. enjoying this. “i have a dagger pressed to your throat, why’re you smiling?” frustration evident in the way you spoke.

“youre exactly where i want you, pretty girl.”

you dropped the hand with the steel, tilting your head back in a feigned laugh, the same hand running trough your hair, “and what the fuck is that supposed to mean? for once im on top, im winning, im in control!”

“awh how you cute? you really think you have me here don’t you?”

“i do!”

before you knew it you felt lutes legs shift, her arms overpowing yours with an ease that had your head spinning. your limbs moving and pliant to lutes harsh movements, the blade being discarded along the way. fighting but failing until she had you in the exact same position you had her in apart from she had your thighs spread, sat on them. immobilising you with your hands above your head with one of her hands and her other wrapped around your throat where your blade should’ve been.

“so in control, baby, look at you, so big and strong underneath me like this,” she was teasing, mocking you.

a click of your tongue and a thrash of your body had lute cooing. she loved you helpless. “such a bitch,” you muttered, taking your time to glare at her. that was a big mistake.

“oh? im a bitch, am i baby?” she had you moving again, plying your malleable soft body with such simplicity. forcing you into such an embarrassing position. face pressed into the harshness of the mat, ass up and pushing into her, her hand laced in your hair and her body enveloping your own with a soft grind into your ass. a broken whimper left your lips, all dignity fleeting as she held you there. “at least im not a pathetic little girl who looses all her thoughts the minute she’s manhandled into the pliant mess she always should be.”

“please-“

“begging now, are we?” lute keened, pushing further into you, arcing your back impossibly higher. “im going to let you go in a second and when i do i expect your cute little ass running to get on your knees for me in our room, you got that? i want you in nothing, you don’t deserve the privilege of clothes. i want you all on display for me. you’re going to regret thinking you can be a brat to me.” and after her hand slipped from your tendrils of hair, her presence leaving you whining, you did exactly that.

nervous breathes running ragged, you slipped your clothes off in the corner of the room, excitement lacing with the nerves. you wanted this, you needed this but it didn’t mean you wasn’t scared of the punishment coming your way.

you could feel the heat building between your thighs just from sparring, just from her. knees thudding softly with the cool floor as you collided in a kneel, your palms resting on the top of your thighs, gaze adrift to the same place. just how lute liked you. submissive.

a click of lock sounded seconds later, quiet footsteps trailing into the room signalling lutes arrival. you hear shifting and rustling of her clothes coming off along with the metal clank of her putting something on a bedside table. her soft breathes becoming louder as she kneels beside you. “have we finally decided to drop the bratty attitude and behave?” her finger trailing under your chin to force your gaze to hers. “i don’t know what’s gotten into you today but im going to slap it out of you, pretty girl.”

you couldn’t help it, a moan fell from your plush lips, desperate and broken at the thought of getting exactly what you wanted. lute just had to put her hands on you now, letting them run across your bare tits. “awh baby, you really need that don’t you, to be slapped?” you nodded, leaning into her touch. “yeah baby?” a soft slap landing on your boob where she was groping, earning her a cute whine from you. “im gonna give you two choices, i can slap that needy pussy of yours or-“ she paused, letting her hand float to your face, her thumb caressing your puffy lips, “that pretty little face of yours? hmm?”

“please lute-“

“please what, baby? which one do you want?” her now standing up, towering over you, the soft caress of her thumb never faltering. “tell mommy.”

“both- please, i need both!” lutes hand leaving your face to land a slap there.

“greedy girl, so eager to be hurt, such a pathetic little girl for mommy.”

“i just-“

“you just what, baby?” another slap landing across your cheek, followed by your desperate cries. “what’s a matter, no more big girl words for me?” another slap. lute bent over, face inches from yours leaving you to flinch a little with fear, a fear you loved. “on the bed, pretty thing, legs spread, now.” two more slaps.

you up and scrambled as fast as you could, crawling so cutely to do as she says, pussy already so puffy and soaked without her so much as touching you, just her slaps. “good girl, that’s more like it.” lutes presence following you, stroking your hair as you laid all pathetic for her. “now close your eyes, mommy has a surprise.”

your lids fluttered shut, a soft tremble in your legs in anticipation. the gentle caress of lutes fingers in your hair easing you further into your pillows. “feels good,” you whispered, nuzzling further into her hand.

“yeah?” you heard that same clank of mental before you felt it, the sharp edge of a blade - your blade - pressed inches from your throat. just like you had done to her. “what about now baby? does this feel good?” her smirk was condescending and completely sadistic as she looked down at you. so fucking hot.

your pupils dilated with shock, eyes widening with such innocence and terror it had lute’s pussy drenched too. “look at you, so cute when you’re scared!” she cooed, “not so big and brave now, are you, little girl?” she was loving this way too much. “tell you what baby, if you stay still whilst mommy spanks your clit, you can cum.” she paused, smirk forming on her soft lips, “but it has to be all over the handle of this knife, yeah?”

your lips wobbled with fear, a broken moan slipping past you at the thought followed by a soft nod of your head. you had no idea what lute would do but you didn’t think it’d be this. you were so happy it was though.

a couple of spanks in and you were trying not to squirm, hips trying to chase the sting of pain you loved so much. everytime lute honing the blade even closer to your throat to still you and get off on that glint of fear that filled your pretty eyes. “awh baby, you’re not very good at this are you? so dumb you just keep humping and squirming eventhough there’s a knife at your throat, you really are so pathetic, aren’t you?”

frantic nods of your head as lute moved the steel back to account for your eagerness, “just so pathetic, mommy please, i can’t help it.”

“that’s my girl,” slap. slap. slap. “looks like you found your big girl words after all,” lute chuckled softly, bringing the hand that had just slapped you back to trace your cheekbones, luring you into that false sense of safety in her palms. “enough words to finally tell me what you want, what you’re begging for?”

she knew exactly what you wanted, she just wanted to hear you say it. blush crept up your cheeks as you bucked your hips missing the soft pain of her slaps on your cunt, gaze drifting toward the blade in lutes grasp. “want-“ a soft whine, “want you to fuck me nd hold the knife to my throat like this,” you bit your lip, trembling some more for the millionth time that day, “please.”

a huff of breath showed lutes surprise, “shit baby, i knew you liked it but i didn’t think you’d like it that much, fuck but when you ask so cutely how am i supposed to deny that?” a giggle leaving your throat. you loved making lute proud with how gross your could be. “on your hands and knees baby, i think mommy’s going to use your favourite strap.” she placed a soft kiss on your temple before walking off.

you couldn’t wait.

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