#on that note though: i need to be making an actual mess on someones cock/strap this instant

[switchblade-serenade]

messy and thoughtless

[tyonfs]

dress up.

❝ i was trying on something. could you tell me if you like it? ❞

PAIRING ▸ mark lee x reader

WARNINGS ▸ dirty talk, raw sex (pls use protection), overstimulation

WORD COUNT ▸ 2000 words

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ this was a request from anon for a frat boy!mark smut! i sort of ran with it, but i love mark lee so it was fun to write ♡

IN RETROSPECT, MARK WAS A BIT OF A CLICHE.

Being a frat boy, athlete, and unfortunately, a bit of a heartbreaker, it was inevitable that he would be classified as bad news. Add you to the equation and he was the physical manifestation of a typical rom-com trope. He figured it was supposed to be you chasing after him, but the fact that it was the other way around took a slight blow to his confidence.

But that didn’t stop him from pursuing you.

And here he was, anticipating your presence on a Friday night at a frat party. He hung onto some false sense of hope that kept him from consuming any alcohol, despite Taeyong and Johnny’s attempts to get him to drink. You and Mark had been flirting for a while now, but neither of you had made a move on each other. Mark was hoping that would change tonight.

“C’mon, Ma-ark,” his friend, Na Jaemin, slurred. “You gotta let loose. Take a shot with me.”

“Jaemin, you’re sloshed, dude. Also, I won’t until—”

A notification flashed across his phone screen, the banner name displaying your name. Mark’s cheeks heated up, his mouth going dry as he stared at his phone for a moment. He turned it off and then on again, checking to make sure the notification was real. He sank back into the couch to make sure only he had eyes on his phone screen.

you: mark

you: you up?

mark: of course. what’s up?

you: i was trying on something

you: could you tell me if you like it?

mark: oh fuck

mark: yeah, go ahead

A few minutes passed by and Mark’s heart was racing. He stared at the texts again, wondering if this was really happening, then cringing at the realization that he had actually sent an “oh fuck” when it was supposed to be confined to his thoughts. Without giving Mark any warning or time to brace himself, you sent the picture.

There was something about mirror pictures that drove Mark crazy. Seeing you posing in front of a full-length mirror with black lingerie hugging your curves and a mini pleated skirt that barely covered the swell of your ass was giving him a hard-on. He wasn’t sure he could contain himself and this shocking development between you two was messing with him.

Mark grabbed a pillow from the couch and placed it shamefully on his lap. No one was paying attention to him anyways, but he had to take extra precautions.

mark: fuck are you wearing that rn?

mark: god, you’re driving me crazy

you: if that’s the case then why don’t you come over?

mark: now?

you: you know where my apartment is

you: i’ll be waiting ♡

Mark got up in an instant and made his way to the door. He had to have saved someone in his past life for this sort of luck. He was caught up in disbelief that you, the girl of his dreams, had made a move on him. There were plenty of girls that Mark had gotten caught up with in the past, but none of them had ever made his heart race like you did.

Johnny stopped Mark before he got to the door, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Whoa, where are you running off to?”

“Oh, shit, I forgot to ask.” Mark grinned, insufferably cocky. “Do you have a condom?”

Johnny’s eyes practically sparkled, digging into his pockets upon his best friend’s request. “Attaboy.”

You looked straight out of one of Mark’s fantasies when you opened the door and let him in. It wasn’t even the short skirt or the lingerie peeking through that got to him. What sent him over the edge was Mark’s sweater over your body; it was oversized on you, but Mark knew it looked better on you than it ever could on him. Mark had given it to you a few weeks ago when you were cold, but he never expected to be the one taking it off of you.

“Hey, frat boy,” you teased, then pouted lightly. “I’m sorry for making you wait so long.”

Mark snapped out of his daze and walked in the apartment as you closed the door behind him. “Wait?”

You tugged at the hem of his shirt and Mark took the cue. He grabbed the back of his shirt at the nape, tugging it off and tossing it to some corner of the room, exposing his bare chest and abs. He let out a hiss through gritted teeth as you ran your hands down his chest and to his belt.

“Wait for me,” you explained. “I just wanted to get you so worked up so you could ruin me.”

That was all Mark needed to hear.

He picked you up effortlessly and brought you to your bed, dropping you down on it and crawling on top of you. He caged your frame with his larger one and crashed his lips onto yours. It was messy and rushed, but so full of passion and longing. Mark poured out his emotions and frustration into kissing you, running his hands down your gorgeous body as you arched your back against him.

“God, I’ve been wanting to do this for months,” he growled when he pulled from the kiss, moving his lips down to your neck. When he heard a soft moan escape your lips, he started sucking harsher, blooming dark hickies along the side of your neck. “I’m gonna make you wish you never made me wait.”

You wrapped a leg around his torso, which he appreciated, if a smooth roll of his hips was anything to go by. But you wanted more—more contact and more friction. You curled your fingers in his belt loops and pulled him down on you.

Mark sat up, pulling you up along with him. He adored your beauty for a moment before tugging his sweater up and off of you. A grunt escaped his lips at the sight of your body, lace lingerie still hugging it. He stuttered out a curse before he kissed you again, tugging your skirt down your legs, which you kicked off.

“Leave the lingerie on,” he ordered, a hungry look in his eyes. He slid his finger underneath the strap along your thigh and snapped it, making you wince. “I can’t let all your efforts go to waste after you dressed up for me, doll.”

“Please, Mark,” you begged, wrapping your arms around his neck, “I want you to stuff your cock in me.”

Mark went to take off his pants in less than a second. You watched him strip down, his bulge not doing much to hide the fact that he was huge. You realized that that cockiness of his is completely warranted. You helped him tug his boxers down, a soft gasp escaping your lips when his cock sprung out, slapping against belly.

Mark gazed into your eyes as he slid his hand up your thigh, making his way to the apex of your legs. He tugged your panties to the side, delighted at how it clung to you. He’d truly be a happy man if he could have you underneath him every day for the rest of his life. Mark slid two fingers against your slit, smirking at how wet you were already.

“Is this for me?” he cooed as your hips bucked up into his touch.

You nodded, eager to just have him in you. You were all for foreplay, but your walls were throbbing with how much pent-up sexual frustration you were experiencing. There were so many opportunities after tonight, but right now, you needed Mark.

Mark suspended himself over you, propping himself up with an arm. He hooked his fingers under the elastic of your panties and teased your slit with the head of his cock. A whimper escaped your lips.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked.

You pressed a kiss to the column of his neck. “Of course.”

Mark’s Adam’s apple bobbed; he was nervous. He was about to fuck the girl of his dreams, so how could he possibly be calm? But when you gave him that dazzling smile of yours, his heart thundered in his chest. He needed you.

He slowly entered you, eyes fixed on your face with rapt attention, indulging in the expressions you were making. For someone so sly and teasing, you had become pliant under his grasp, like a handful of clay that Mark could mould into his own liking.

“Mark,” you whined in an almost depraved way.

“Fuck,” he groaned once he was fully inside of you, your walls pulsating around him.

He started at a languid pace so he could adjust to you. To his satisfaction, you were vocal during sex; you moaned, whimpered, and gasped out Mark’s name whenever he thrusted into you. You were also so damn tight that the slightest movement made you tighten around Mark’s cock.

He held your thighs with a bruising grip as you pressed your breasts up against his chest. Your head went fuzzy as Mark pounded into that one spot mercilessly. But god, the way he growled out your name under his breath as your hips slapped against each other each time was sending you over the edge.

Your nails dug into his back, leaving trails of white-hot pain that compelled Mark into thrusting harder into you. He grinned, a little unhinged, and sped up at the encouragement of your moans. The way he looked at you when he thrusted, though, was so fragile; he found you so heartbreakingly gorgeous, and it didn’t help that he was falling deeper and deeper in love with you.

“Mark!” you cried as you were reaching your high.

He could get lost in the way his name tumbled from your lips. He slowed down his thrusts in exchange for deeper ones that brought you closer to your climax. Mark kissed you again, slower and more passionate. It was somewhat out of place given the magnitude of what you two were doing, but it confirmed for you that he didn’t just want you for sex.

You squealed out his name again, the pressure blinding you. You clenched around him as you came undone, shooting stars flashing behind your eyelids. Mark fucked you through your orgasm without any semblance of mercy. You crooned out a few broken moans, eyes half-lidded as you held onto Mark, your release dripping down his cock.

“Look at me,” he ordered, dark eyes clouding over. He could hardly keep his release at bay, but when you looked up at him with those innocent, doe-like eyes, it became impossible. “God, are you even real? You’re so fucking gorgeous.”

Mark gritted his teeth, a strangled groan leaving his throat as he pulled out and released over you. His cum spilled over your thighs, staining the lingerie you had worn just for him. Mark was completely out of breath so he collapsed next to you, rolling over so he could hold you in his arms. You happily complied, cuddling up to his warmth.

“Please don’t let that be a one-time thing,” Mark murmured in your ear, brushing aside strands of your hair.

“Maybe if you let me be your girlfriend,” you said with a smile, making Mark go wide-eyed.

“Really?” He couldn’t conceal the happiness behind his words.

“On one condition, though,” you said, closing your eyes as that feeling of his cum between your thighs. You reached for his pants that he had strewn aside beside you and reached into the pocket, pulling out the condom that Johnny had given him. “Use this next time.”

“Shit,” Mark mumbled.

You giggled at his reaction, but Mark only smiled brighter, embracing you tightly in his arms. He pressed a kiss against your forehead, cheek, and then your lips. He was a pure romantic when it came down to it, especially when it came to you.

“I also have a condition,” he said.

“Yeah?” you mused. “What is it?”

“Dress up for me next time.”

[sweetcathedral]

Note: Finally back from my break! Lots of things keep happening in my life that I’ve never expected, so I’m busier than usual, but I have queued up some quick stories for the next few weeks. Although this was inspired by the Are You Am I dresses, it’s more centred around Catholicism that I have a love-hate relationship with. Enjoy!

⚠️: 18+, fem! reader, altar sex, raw, church sex, overstimulation, creampie/breeding

“I don’t think we should be doing this.”

“Cut the act. You’d be fighting me, if you really opposed it,” Sukuna scoffs, admiring the view of your legs spread open—laid on top of the altar. Your ripped stockings, now webs of black thread, running across your thigh, like it’s still trying to keep him from tainting the last bit of innocence you had left. Beams of light fell from the skylight of the church, casting a soft glow on the God that was once loved, but now abandoned and left to be eaten by what he created.

“The hell are you wearing?” Sukuna arched his brow in a grimace expression.

You looked down at your outfit, not seeing what could be wrong with it. It’s your first time wearing something like this; a silk dress with dainty straps and a raw hemming that looks like it’s about to come undone & sheer opaque black stockings. “I don’t see anything wrong with it, does it look bad?” Sukuna strides towards you, analyzing your outfit, even lifting the hem of your dress as if he doesn’t know what’s already there.

“I will never understand the evolution of clothing in this era,” he cocks his head to the side with a placid look in his eyes. Ah, right. He died a long time ago.

“What did people used to wear in your time?”

“Fabrics that actually clothed them,” he tugs at your stockings and wiggles his finger in them, still trying to wrap his head around its function.

“Hey, stop that, it tickles and it feels weird,” you giggled, pushing his hand away.

“I don’t see any point in wearing it. I could rip this off right now.”

“Sukuna, no! This is expensive!” you bicker at him, clinging on to your dress as he tugs at it like a child does when they want their mom’s attention.

“Just ask Gojo to buy you a new one when we’re finished.”

“Finished?” the sound of threads shredding apart startles you.

You scan yourself like a puppy chasing its tail to see if he’d actually ripped your dress apart. Nothing, but something felt off—looking down at your stockings, you see that there was a large slit running down your leg, exposing your thigh.

"Heh, whoops," he flicks the small shred of fabric off his nails, walking you into a corner. The shadow of the room contrasts his face making his eyes glow a deeper crimson. "Don’t look away from me," grabbing your face, his nails dig into your skin as you try to fight off his grip. Lifting you against the wall, he softly drags his nails along your exposed thighs, teasingly drawing circular patterns the higher up he goes.

"Sukuna," you pleaded softly, his hand now on your neck, lifting you ´til you were on your tippy toes & trying to balance yourself so that you wouldn’t fall into complete suffocation.

"Shh, someone might hear you," he whispers in a low octave. You forgot you weren’t in a closed off area. The two of you were originally sent to an abandoned church to investigate a curse user of the Roman Catholic religion, that is until Sukuna took over Yuji’s body.

Your body jolts at Sukuna brushing his knuckles over your clit. The heat of you traces over the length of his finger through the thin fabric of your panties, stifling a moan. "Don’t be shy. It won’t be your first time sinning in front of a God," he cooed in your ears. He told you to be quiet, but he really just wanted to see you hold yourself back as he evokes your temptations & diminishes your composure. He loves seeing you corrupted, especially when it’s in a respectable church built to honour a God who guides herds of blinded sheep.

Only shame & humiliation wash over you as you avert your gaze from looking at the smaller crucifix hanging over the doorway the two of you came from. He turns to look in the same direction you did, a sly grin stretches from ear to ear. “I have a better idea,” his eyes narrow in defiance as he turns to look at the God overseeing the center aisle.

“I don’t think we should be doing this.”

“Cut the act. You’d be fighting me, if you really opposed it,” Sukuna scoffs, admiring the view of your legs spread open—laid on top of the altar. Your ripped stockings, now webs of black thread, running across your thigh, like it’s still trying to keep him from tainting the last bit of innocence you had left. Beams of light fell from the skylight of the church, casting a soft glow on the God that was once loved, but now abandoned and left to be eaten by what he created.

You released a deep exhale at the feeling of something soft and wet trailing over your inner thighs—Sukuna. The warm feeling eases the tension all over your body and you can feel the heat of your blood pumping in your ears, his face getting closer and closer to where you want him the most. “Maybe we should find a more private setting,” you try convincing him.

“Now why would I want that? Just look at how wet you are down here,” he bites on your panties and pulls them off, revealing a dripping mess. It was embarrassing, immoral, but there was something about how good it feels to be doing something so wrong. The thrill of it sends a rush of adrenaline through your veins, your heart beating against your ribcage. More. “Tell me what you want.”

Everything, but even that thought wasn’t enough. “I want you . . . to take me to hell,” you whisper to him.

Taken aback by the words that just came out of your mouth, he brings himself back with that same sly grin and a soft look in his eyes. “It’ll be my pleasure.”

From one moment to the next, Sukuna drove your sanity out from you until you could think of nothing, but only him. The bold movement of his tongue reaching in to taste you, his fingers teasing around your clit and fondling your breasts, his lips pressing on every part of your skin, leaving wet splotches that are deep enough in colour to bloom into an aching bruise afterwards.

“Sukuna,” you lift the hem of your dress over as you fold your legs to your chest—revealing your painfully aching cunt, glistening with desire. The syllables of his name roll off the tip of your tongue like nectar. “More.”

“You don’t need to tell me,” he pulls your hips towards him, enough for your cunt to be pressing against the thick bulge fighting the strain of his black jeans. The altar creaked, as if in disappointment, at the sudden weight change.

Mesmerized by the sight of you laid on the altar like an offering, he takes his time to soak in the image, burning it into his mind; the burnished oak altar with the scene of the last supper carved beneath it, a warm glow cascading from the skylight of the church and the large crucified God, looking down at the lustful act unfolding in his house of worship. But then the feeling of your hips impatiently bucking at him interrupts his thoughts. “You know, they say patience is a virtue,” pleased at your eagerness.

“Fuck the virtues.”

“What a bold thing to say in a church,” he softly chuckles, the sound of his zipper perking your ears.

You reach for his belt, but he laces his fingers into yours, pressing your hand down. The tip of him brushes against your soft folds, lubricating itself with your juices. Without a struggle, his cock unfolds you, pushing a welcoming entrance open between your legs. Your walls flutter in excitement, pulling him in, as the creaking floors of the church groaned in disapproval.

“Oh, God,” you gripped at the altar cloth.

“You should moan louder for the angels to hear,” he thrusted into you harder than when he entered, the sound of skin slapping bounces off the walls. “Fuck.”

All righteous thoughts were purged out of you, like a soul being cleansed anew at adoration. Demon. It wasn’t your first time with him and it definitely won’t be your last. You can feel your body getting desperate to finish as you began to buck your hips faster.

“Closer,” you held your breath, arching your back.

The sound of his name falling off your lips sends a painful feeling of the need of wanting more. He wanted to strip away your senses to see a side of you that no one else has ever seen, the first to discover you and explore whatever you hid away from plain sight. That is what drove the King of Curses, Father of All Sins, to greed.

Echoes of your panting and moaning became a choir of sultry tones, replacing the familiar sounds of organs and bells in the church. Even though your legs were trembling from reaching your limits, he kept on going, ignoring your pleas and begging.

“Not yet,” he grunts in your ear.

“Please . . . I can’t take it anymore.”

Tears stream down your face as you grip onto Sukuna’s arms. The feeling in your legs were no longer there and you were having a hard time controlling your tremors. Just when you thought you couldn’t reach another climax, your cunt began pulsating rapidly as your body uncontrollably tensed up again.

When Sukuna pulled out, a waterfall of cum spilled out of you and pooled onto the altar cloth, dripping down the carving of the Last Supper. The two of you pant in exhaustion, he’s laying on top of you with his arms wrapped around your head, his hand firmly holding you close to him.

You brush your fingers through his hair, reciprocating the same affection back. “Tell me you’re finished for today,” you giggled.

“I wanna say ‘no’, but that’d mean you’d be knocking on Shoko’s door again.”

Both of you laughed as you teasingly tugged at his ear.

“Should we clean—!”

As he helped carry you off the altar, you looked back at the aging oak and crumpled cloth that had been perfectly fine and untainted—now dented with deep inhuman scratch marks surrounding the faint imprint of where you laid.

[donutloverxo]

Spoiled

Kinktober day 5 - Mirror sex

*gif is not mine*

Note - this is a bit of a rushed job. Because while I like August I didn't want to end the year on him lol. It has to be our husband. Thank you so so much for all the support and love all of you have shown me this past year, it's serves as a great motivation for me. I have a resolution of writing 200k in the next year so hopefully there's a lot more hoeness and happiness this coming year for us all. Love y'all❤

This is the last part and sequel to past self and messed up. Dividers by @whimsicalrogers.

Warnings - 18+ only, Smut (m/f), daddy kink, light anal play, hints to threesomes, jealous Steve, cum play, rough sex, general nastiness.

Pairing - Steve Rogers x reader

Word count - 2k

“I am so tired. I mean time travelling is fun and all but sooo exhausting,” you mumbled into the pillow as you laid face flat on your bed. The soft plush mattress providing some much needed comfort to your sore muscles.

After the snap both you and Steve had moved into a brownstone in Brooklyn, it was much smaller than your quarters in the compound but you never really liked having that much of a distance from him anyway.

Even if you weren’t doing anything, you’d prefer to do nothing with him. Just lounging around on like a couple of couch potatoes.

It was hard for him to not have much to do. With half the world gone and the Avengers broken up he spent most of his days volunteering and leading therapy groups. Telling others to move on, that’s what their loved ones would want for them, while not being able to do so himself. Blaming himself for everything that had happened.

He told you that having all that free time made his mind go to dark places, thinking of his past, of all the lives that he wasn’t able to save. And after years of denying that he needed any, he decided to go to therapy.

They were a tough few years. But everything was fine now. As fine as it could be. His friends were back, you joked about how Bucky and Tony had matching cyborg arms now, he laughed at that but they didn’t. There was still plenty of hostility there, he didn’t exactly expect them to become ‘bffs', as you’d called it, hopefully they’d learn to get along.

He unzipped your boots, pulling them off and massaging your feet, listening to you babble nonsense about all your theories about time travel.

He always called you his sunshine. It was an apt petname for you, you brought light into his life, you were his light at the end of the tunnel. After years of being alone, it was as if he was waiting for you all along.

While you had your share of breakdowns during those five years, lots of fights with him because you wanted to move on and not be stuck in the past. He agreed with you, he didn’t want to be stuck, but he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t give up on those he loved.

You were always there for him. His only solace during those dark times.

He had changed a lot, when he met you he was still the Captain, then he was on the run, living in shady motels and not knowing who the fuck he was.

He became a bit more melancholic after the snap, the whole world did, a lot needier for you and your attention and love. Because he was so grateful you weren’t gone.

If you had... he wouldn’t know what to do with himself.

He knew it annoyed you because even though you loved him, that he didn’t doubt one bit, you also liked your independence. But he’ll always need you way more than you need him.

“Sunshine?” he called for your attention, his hands now moving up to your calves, applying just the little bit of pressure.

You giggled, looking over your shoulder to him as you felt your face heat up, “I swear, Steve, you’re so cheesy.”

“Do you...” he cleared his throat and then shook his head, it was stupid of him to even think something like that much less verbally express it to you.

You turned around, laying flat on your back, “What?”

“It’s silly,” he pressed his lips in a thin line.

“I don’t care, you still have to tell me. Come on,” you lightly kicked your legs which were on his lap.

“Do you ever wish... you were with someone closer to your age.”

He couldn’t look at you, even after all these years of being together he couldn’t be completely vulnerable--a life of rejection making him anticipate the worst.

“Why would you say that?” you sat up, cupping his cheek with your hand.

“I don’t know,” he shrugged.

It wasn’t just that you were younger, almost everyone was younger compared to him, but you had a young soul that would never grow old.

And he... he was no fun sometimes, how long would it take for you to grow tired of him. Did just you like the thrill of being on the run? When he was more edgier and rougher than he is now.

“I could never even imagine being with anyone but you,” you assured him.

He scoffed, “Didn’t seem like that when you were with him.”

“Oh, you mean ‘you'?” you cocked your head to the side, feigning innocence.

You knew how jealous your fawning over his past self’s beard had made him. To be honest, you would lose your shit if he acted that way towards any other woman, even if said woman was a version of you.

He shook his head, “Forget I said anything.”

“Wait,” you cupped his cheek, making him look at you, “You’re so jelly and needy sometimes, daddy.”

He bit the inside of his as you knelt on the floor before him, parting his legs, your hands fumbling with his belt but he stopped you by holding onto your wrists.

“We should get cleaned up...” he half heartedly tried to stop you but you managed to pull all his straps open and take his hardening erection out of his pants.

“We probably should...” you hummed, “But I guess I need to show daddy how much I love him,” peaking out your tongue to circle his leaking tip.

“I know you love me, sweetheart, but I just worry sometimes if I’m too old fashioned for you?” he wondered, letting out a shuddering moan as you took him in your mouth, looking up at him with your wide innocent eyes--always so full of life.

You swallowed around him, moaning at the familiar taste and scent of him, taking him deeper till he hit the back of your throat.

Steve being old fashioned did bother you a little at times. Not the part where he was an absolute gentleman, always holding the door open for you, paying for your dates. But where he always wanted to be the one protecting you. Taking care of you. Which was good, but he needs some loving too.

“Swallow it all, honey,” he instructed as he held your head down, his spend coating the back of your throat as you followed his command like a good girl.

Opening your mouth and holding out your tongue, “I did it, daddy,” you proclaimed proudly.

He prodded at your mouth with his fingers, under your tongue, to make sure that you got all of it, “Good girl,” he smiled as you suckled on his fingers, “you always need to have your mouth stuffed, honey, don’t you?”

You only nodded, letting out a pathetic whine when he pulled his fingers out with a loud pop.

“Let’s go shower, honey,” he said but then frowned when you shook your head.

“Are you done already? That’s it?” Don't say it, don’t... “Got another one in ya?”

You knew you were digging your own grave, of Steve wanted you he could literally fuck you for days, you had tried to ‘test' that on your honeymoon. To see who would give out first, your poor pussy or his unyielding supersoldier stamina.

Obviously he won and you were never able to complete your little experiment.

He gave you a fake sweet smile, dripping with--so much malice which was so not Steve. Gripping your hair he yanked you back to bare your neck to him, his other hand tracing your pulse point before wrapping around your neck, applying the slightest bit of pressure - because you were precious, he’d never want to actually hurt you, “I was going to make love to you in the shower, sweetheart.” he squeezed tighter as you choked, wrapping your tiny hands around his wrist, “But then you had to go and say that. What should we do with you?” he mused.

“Fuck me?” you sassed, while making love sounded nice, you would much rather have a good dicking down.

“No, you have to learn your lesson, honey. I maybe older but it only makes me better. I’ll have to show you I guess,” he tutted.

Hauling you up, with his hands under your arms, he manhandled you till you both stood before the dressing mirror you had gotten a few months ago, pressing your cheek against its cool surface as he worked on the seams of your cat suit.

“I’ve wanted to do this for a long time,” he confessed, ever since you had bought the large mirror, he liked to watch you as he took you apart in it, sometimes making you look, somehow that seemed to suck all your sass and feistiness and you’d just turn into a shy flustered mess in his arms, refusing to look at the mirror or at him.

Which would only fuel his lust, because he still had the ability to surprise you, even after he’d seen all of you. Felt all of your caverns, and you, intimately and knew them like the back of his hand.

“Never really got the opportunity to, now’s good a time as any, wouldn’t you agree?” he nibbled at the shell of your ear, smirking as you weakly nodded.

“You’re so good at doing what you’re told.” He pressed a kiss to your hair, kneeling behind you to rid you of your tight pants before burying his head between your legs.

Nudging your intimate lips apart with the lip of his tongue, “You’re already soaked, honey,” he observed, licking his lips to savor your taste before prodding at your second hole with his tongue, just so he could hear you gasp.

“Steve!” you exclaimed, not expecting that. While Steve was more of an ass man, he never wanted to fuck you or even touch you there. But after a lot of course convincing from your side he had to give in.

He bit the flesh of your buttocks before speaking against it, “Since you like having all your holes stuffed, maybe I should call Bucky to help me out sometime...”

“Really?!” you perked up, looking down at him over your shoulder.

He didn’t give you an answer, instead fucking you with his tongue tillyou were quivering around him, crying out loud, as the mirror fogged up.

“Bucky’s nice...” you mumbled incoherently as he rose to his feet, his nails digging into your hips as he picked you up till you were standing on your top toes to meet his height. Sheathing his hard length inside you in one firm thrusts as he stayed still to let you get used to him.

“Hm. Am I not nice?” you saw him frown behind in his reflection, “I buy you whatever you want. Give you whatever you want, don’t I? Apparently it’s not enough for you. You’re getting too spoiled, I need to start saying no,” he drove each word home with hard thrusts, his tip kissing your cervix, his warm breath brushing the back of your neck.

“NOOO,” you whined, tears streaming down your face at such an outrageous prospect. Steve never said no to you. Not even when you literally asked for a threesome with his past self. “I was saying...” You tried to say but moaned as he pinched your clit, trying to jerk away from him but his firm hold on you made it impossible. “That he’s nice...” you panted, “Slow down, please!”

He hummed to make a show of thinking about it but then fastened his pace, twisting your clit between his fingers as he watched your face in the mirror.

“No.”

“He’s nice.... but he’s not you,” you wailed, clenching around him as your climax washed over you.

He had to hold onto your waist, so you wouldn’t collapse on your shaky leg, he smiled, “That’s very touching, doll.” He said.

“’is the truth.”

“I wouldn’t mind sharing it with Bucky though. He knows you’re mine.” Unlike a certain someone who was dumb enough to think he had any claim on you, “Can you hold for me?” he asked as you nodded.

Planting your hands against the mirror you braced yourself as he fucked you from behind, filling you up to the brim with his warmth.

“Okay then. You wouldn’t find me kicking him out of my bed...” you giggled.

[magicpumpkin3]

Idia Shroud x (Fem?)reader

Warning: NSFW; light!dom/sub; maid outfit; pegging(kinda); Idia is kinda OCC'ish

Note: thank yous go to → @intynidad Check out their blog! It's... interesting ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°). Note 2: sorry for shitty writing, author is new to smuts :). (My second ever smut tbh)

"…P-please… stop!" Idia desperately trys to hide his legs as much as possible with that stupid skirt. He has nothing against maid outfits. It's more opposite way actually, he loves them! It's not that he's wearing one right now, no. It's you, staring at him. And all of this because of a stupid bet! He could've sworn, you were horrible at this game but no. You just had to be lucky today and win. And loser, who's punishment was to wear a maid outfit, is him. Blushing like a mad man, sitting in a corner of your room, Idia trys to hide from your eyes.

Giggling like a five-year old kid that just got their own toy as present for Christmas, you slowly walk towards your boyfriend. "Hey, you look wonderful, no need to hide!" His hair bursting in bright red flames even more, Idia lets out a groan of frustration. "It's n-not, I'm…You…m-me…" And there he goes mumbling again. You love him to the depths of your heart but sometimes he needs to be a bit louder and clearer with his words and thoughts. Though, you can't blame him. We've all been there, still there at some point actually.

Sitting on a floor, turned away from you, keeping his knees close to his chin, Idia trys so hard not burn your entire room. "Idia~…" Hearing your voice sing-song his name, makes him want to hide himself even more. Your gentle touch on his arms makes him jump in surprise. "You okay?" Asking him gently, making him want to tackle you and hold you for ever. How can you be so brave? He slowly, a bit shackly, turns his head towards you. Red as Riddles hair, he tries to to mutter something out.

He's so cute like that. Not being able to hold yourself together, you bend forward and give his lips a small peck. Small whimper escapes him. "It's n-not fa-funny…" Chuckling to yourself, you lightly shacke your head. "Yes, it's not funny how gorgeous you look." Oh boi! You can practically see steam leaving his ears. Gently placing one hand on his thigh, that are covered by black stockings and another on his shoulder.

Shuddering because of the gesture, Idia sheepishly looks you in the eyes. Staring at you, like you're one of the great seven. He suddenly feels your lips on his. What starts as a small tender kiss, turns into a heated make out session really fast. Your tongues dancing together, pushing one another. Moaning into your mouth, he closes his eyes in a bless.

Pulling away, breathing heavy, you look at him. Such a mess, flushed all over, breath wrecked, he trys to avoid your gaze. Though, his body speaks for him better then his words. Idia now is fully turned to you and is sitting on his knees before you. Looking so delicious, it's almost painful. Scooting closer to him, you now place your hands on his cheeks, making him look at you. Staring into one another's soul, you kiss each other again.

He can feel your hands slowly moving down his body. They gently, like afraid of scaring him, caress his sides, pushing on his sweet spots, that make him hitch his breath. Almost bitting his own tongue, and yours too off, when he feels you go beneath the skirt. Breaking apart, breathing in and out rapidly, Idia looks at you. Thin line of saliva still connecting your mouths.

You slowly, bend forward and start leaving trail of kisses and small bites down his neck. Idia sinks his teath down his bottom lip to keep himself quiet. Soft cry leaving his throat. You move one of your hands up his thigh. Reaching beginning of his underwear, you teas it a little, pulling and tapping it. You can particularly fell his cock twitch.

"P-plea-se! I…Ah! Pl-please…Hn...I c-can't!…" Face flushed, tongue rolled out a bit, your boyfriend trys to say something. "Yes, dear? You want something me to do?" You ask Idia in teasing manner. Your hand reaches his erection. Slowly stroking it through his underwear, you keep smiling at him with that grin of yours. "Use your words dear."

"P-please!!! More ah!" Right when he finished his thought out loud, you put a pressure on a head of his cock. Bucking his hips towards your hands he whimpers and crys in pleasure. Pushing Idia down, you pin his hands over his head. Kissing him heatedly again, you push your knee between his legs. Moaning into your mouth, he arches his back towards your other hand that is playing with his nipple under that stupid outfit.

Pulling away, you rise a bit to look at him. Flushed all over the place, hot rigged breath, eyes slightly open, his neck and collarbones with few of your marks. Maid outfit pushed down his shoulders to expose more skin that was begging for more marks. Realising his hands, you carefully help him to get those short sleeves out of the way. Front falling down a bit reviling his erect nipples, making you bend down and press a few teasing kisses to them.

"Idia, do you trust me?" You asked in husky hushed voice. He looked you on the eyes with a second doubt nodding. Smiling like Cheshire cat, you press a fee kisses to his face and get off him. You can see the confusion on your boyfriends face. "Be a good boy and wait for me here." Coying it sweetly, you quickly leave the room.

Laying down, all alone, Idia's hands without him noticing it, reach to his bulge. Slowly, with shaky hands he removed his underwear from his also shaking legs and slowly started touching himself. Moving fingers up and down his shaft, he exhales with a small whimper. Your loving hands feel so much better then his. Squeezing around himself he began to pump his hand up and down. Precum leaking out already. He closes his eyes and groans with pleasure.

What a beautiful sight you walked on. Him, moaning your name out like this, legs bend a bit, like waiting for someone to rail him in the ass, jearking himself off in that cute outfit. It makes you get even more turned on. Slowly walking closer to him, you sit down near your boyfriend. Apparently he got too consumed by the filing and didn't see you. Not to worry. You know just the way to get his attention. Reaching your hand, you slowly add pressure on his hand over his cock. Choking out a gasp, Idia opens his eyes and looks at you.

"I'm…I-" Before he could say anything, you shut him up with a kiss. He melts immediately. Slowly, you move one of your hands towards his asshole. He crys out in a kiss of the feeling of your fingers massaging hole. Breaking a kiss, you bend even further, whispering into his ear. "Sorry for, keeping you waiting you". You put mote pressure, more moans follow. "I thought we could try something…" Smiling like you're a devil in a flesh, you push your index finger in.

Silent scream left his lips. A few trails of droll roll from his mouth. Idia clings to you shoulders and crys out into your ear. You slowly start to move your finger inside, slowly trying to add another. "It-it! Insi-side!!! Agh!" After having all four fingers inside of him, rhythmetically fucking him, he's already almost sits on your hand. One of his stockings has rolled down, and his whole outfit was steady only on his abbs. Suddenly you stop and pull your hand away. Low whines and crys of disapproval are heard from your Idia. "So the thing I wanted to try…" you turn your back to him and grab something. "Well…what do you think?" Turning back to him, you revel a strap-on. Not too big, not too small. Medium. Glaring at it for a few moments, he realizes what's it for. He almost immediately got on his back and raised one if his legs. Turning his head away from you, he trys to hide behind one of his own arms. Chuckling to yourself, you smile down on him, putting your toy in place, getting the lubricant oil and getting ready. Whole time your boyfriends eyes were glued to you. Getting on top of him and placing one of his legs over your shoulder, you bend down and hover over him once again. "Say what you want~" you say in a husky voice. Idia desperately trys to push himself on your toy but you keep moving away. "Neh-neh! That won't do, dear. You have to tell me what you want." Even though Idia shuted his eyes long time ago he could feel you smile at him.

"I-I want…"

"yes?"

"I w-want you to…to," here he goes again, trying to push himself on a strap-on.

"Shh~. Tell me I'll do it" moving away from him, you kiss pulls on his neck.

"I want y-you! To!…"

"Yes?"

"I want you to fuck me!" Almost yelling it out, Idia opened his eyes and looked at you. Holding on to you for dear life.

"Very well then"

A loud cry echoes through your room. Pushing in slowly, you sigh, as if you could feel how it feels to be inside of your boyfriend. Slowly bumping in and out, you thrusts deeper with each push. Head rolled flames a bit purple, not quite red, not quite blue, droll dripping from his mouth, tongue also out, Idia moans and crys like madman. You're truly grateful that your dorm is as far away from any 'crowded places'.

Kissing and sucking on one of his nipples, you slowly start to use your free hand to jerk him off a bit. Almost immediately his head shots up and he's pressed flushed to you. You start to move more aggressively and harsh, making him particularly scream your name and how much 'he fucking loves it'. You can feel his cock twitch when you hit one specific spot inside of him, making him scream from pleasure, literally. You start to hit it over and over again, making him see stars. Burning fire inside of him, grows bigger and bigger every single time, you touch one of his sensitive parts. He's so close he can feel it.

Suddenly he stops you. Looking down at him worriedly you ask "Everything okay?" Before you could mentally prepare yourself Idia half says, half huffs "C-can you…ri-ride me but k-keep t-the stra-pon i-inside?…" You at loose of your words. "I mean...we can try?" Slowly detention strapon from yourself, you get on top of him and line his dick to your entrance. Slowly pushing yourself onto his shaft, you sigh and shiver from the feeling. You can feel Idia buck his hips tawords you.

Slowly you, you start to ride him. Skirt up, revealing his crotch area, where your body's connect, hands holding into a carpet to keep himself from hurting himself or you, he looks at your eyes with his golden once. You smile daring at him, you start to move even harsher. Moaning in unison, bumping and crying out in pleasure.

A great idea comes to your head. Leaning back a bit, with one hand, you try to find with another the tip of a strap-on. Finally finding it, you grab it and push in your boyfriends hole a bit. Hearing a raw crys of pleasure, as you ride him.

Hot bubbling feeling inside of you getting stronger as you get more aggressive. Pushing in harsher, ridding more rigged you make eye contact with him again. And it's your both breaking point. You can feel him twitching inside of you and realising hot semen into you, he almost screams but bite's his lower lip just in time to just moan really loud. He stills and now it's your time to cum. Hot knots inside are vanishing. Your vision is unclear, white noise filing your ears.

After what felt like an hours, you collapsed on top of him. Giggling to yourself, you make a mental note to make more bets like that

[tangtownie]

You Should See Me In A Crown - Natasha Romanoff x Dark!Reader Insert (AU)

Author’s Note: So, this is my first time trying to write something dark…

Think it might land in the category of soft!dark, but be warned none the less!

Super nervous about posting this, but I actually ended up really liking this one myself, so hopefully others will as well.

Reader is from the Red Room Academy, just as Natasha, only reader never left them. I took some creative liberties when describing the Red Room Academy, so that it fit my idea better, which is also why this story is marked as an AU.

The Russian nickname for Natasha means ‘darling’, ‘pet’ or ‘beloved’.

I incorporated some lyrics from the song, tell me how many you can find? 🧐

Regarding the timeline, I imagine this would take place after Natasha brought down SHIELD and shortly after Bucky joined the Avengers.

Also, shoutout to @a-little-counter-esperanto for being kind enough to beta this for me and offer some moral support! 🥰

Once again, this is marked dark for a reason! There might be topics that are triggering to certain people, so please be responsible about your media consumption.

Warnings: Explicit descriptions of violence and murder, dark!Reader, messed up “family” relations, weird/sexual obsession with a sister figure.

Word count: 2.252

Song Inspiration: You Should See Me In A Crown by Billie Eilish

I was perfectly concealed, blending in with all the mindless idiots making their way down the street. If this hadn’t been New York, and people actually paid attention to what happened around them, they might have noticed the warning sign that was the concealed weapons on my body. Or my too heavy boots beating down against the concrete. Carefully eyeing the tower, I counted the people moving in and out of the building. “Bite my tongue, bide my time.” I mumbled quietly, catching the attention of a passerby. We had in fact been biding our time, monitoring the tower for months, counting the number of armed guards on site at any given time. However, it seemed that these soft Americans had their most precious protectors under lock and key at all times. Biting my tongue, I tried not to scoff. One would assume that the Avengers were more than capable of handling themselves, but apparently their employer did not.

Not that it mattered, the more people in the tower, the more people there were for my sisters to play with. My sisters who were all watching me, waiting for my signal. Finally, we had found our missing piece and none of us were leaving here without her. I had been searching for her for years, using the Academy’s missions to get intel on my long lost sister. In time, Mother had found out and I had been forced to deal with that. Fortunately, it was nothing a little thallium poisoning couldn’t handle for me. One less complication and Mother would never get between us again. No one would. Catching the rays of the sun on the edge of my watch, I slowly rolled my wrist, the light reflecting up on a window in a perfect circle. “Wearing a warning sign.” I didn’t know where my sisters were located, but I knew they had all seen my signal. I moved swiftly through the masses, discarding my disguise along the way, and quickly found myself standing in front of the tower.

The first window shattered, as I opened the door, a flurry of bullets following the first one. Civilians were screaming: scrambling to get away, guards were rushing in from all sides: barking commands rushing through their radios and glass continued flying through the air as my sisters blew the lobby to pieces. A few stray pieces of glass tangled in my hair, light reflecting off of them as I moved gracefully through the chaotic scene, while the bloodcurdling screams piercing the air sounded almost like a symphony. Humming quietly to myself, I pulled my gun from the holster on my hip and aimed carelessly before shooting a guard in the face.

The bullet lodged in his eye and he fell to his knees, screaming. His body spasmed out of his control and with a final gurgling scream, he fell limply to the floor. “I love the way they scream.” I really didn’t need to kill him to swipe his ID, but alas why should my sisters have all the fun? After all, I was the one running this mission. The glass crunched underneath my boots and blood splattered all over me whenever my sisters killed the ones that got too close to me.

Making it to the elevator was easy: the guards and civilians continuously dropping all around me. Once inside of the elevator, I pressed R for residential. Wiping some blood from my cheek, I caught a whiff of gunpowder on my dark glove and I inhaled again, greedily, as pure joy filtered through my system. Raising my head to look at my reflection, I was met with a dazzling vision wrapped in all black. I could see the bumps from my arsenal of knives and guns strapped to my thighs, hips and arms. My hair was tied back tightly, the glass shards framing my head like a crown, and blood smeared across my face. “You are so pretty.”

The elevator dinged as it reached the residential floor. Unlike the others, this was ominously silent. By now the precious protectors would now that I had come looking for them. Or rather her. I had come for her and I would die before leaving without her. “Natalia?” I called out for her teasingly. “I know you’re here, любимый." I was met only with silence. Humming quietly to myself again, I fished a knife out of my holster and jammed it into the keypad of the elevator. The keypad sputtered and sparked before I pulled the knife back out, leaving it hanging down the side of the wall.

Flipping the knife carelessly, I scraped it against the wall, as I started moving down the hallway. “Our sisters are so looking forward to seeing you again, sweet Natalia.” I was almost reunited with her and joy filled my voice as well as my body. A flash of movement caught my eye and I turned just in time to see someone charging at me. A quick sidestep and he flew past me. He was tall, broad and dark. Every inch of him wrapped in black leather. His gaze was burning with fury, when he turned to look at me.

“Soldat,” I cocked my head in recognition, a smirk curling around my lips. “I see you’ve betrayed the cause as well.” The burly soldier snarled at me in response and a bubbling laughter rose from my throat. “Poor little Soldat, still have the manners of a raging beast, I see.” The deranged soldier lunged at me again, and it took all of my power to block his fist. The metallic whirring getting louder and louder the more weight he put into it. Grunting with effort, I could feel his arm slipping through mine and his fist met my face with full force. My entire body was slammed backwards into the wall and it felt as though my brain was vibrating from the hit. For a second everything went dark, but the taunting scoff from Soldat ripped me back to reality instantaneously.

Pushing myself from the wall, I growled back at him. To think that my dear sister had been trapped here with these abominations of nature for so long… But no matter, we were here for her now and we would take her away. I simply needed to put down this caged animal in front of me, and we could be on our way. “Watch me make ‘em bow.” Anger flashed in the eyes of the beast as I spoke and he charged again: his metal hand shooting out and wrapping around my throat. His eyes burning while he tightened his grip until all that could escape me were choked off gasps.

I fumbled for the needle in my pocket. I knew it contained just enough sedative to take down a deranged super soldier and while I had anticipated using it on a certain overeager Captain, this seemed like an appropriate use. When I finally grasped the needle, I plunged it into the side of Soldat’s neck. The drug took effect immediately: the beast’s eyes drooping and his ironclad grip on my throat loosening. As my feet touched the floor again, his hand slipped from my throat and he landed with a loud thump. I wasn’t certain how long it would keep him down, so for good measure I grasped one of my knifes and plunged it into him: his stomach, chest and shoulder before I sliced along the inside of his arm.

Loosing my patience, I started down the hallway again. I had to find her and save her. How could Mother ever have thought that Natalia was safe here? Kicking down every door I met, I eventually found her room. The soft scent of jasmine and lemongrass wafted over me and I couldn’t resist the temptation to go in. “You smell so sweet.” My fingers softly grazed over her walls as I moved inside and let the smell of my dear sister take over my senses. Her room was warm and inviting with throw blankets and pillows everywhere and I knew that I had been right. This—she—was exactly what our sisters needed, a comforting and warm presence.

Natalia’s bedroom was immaculate as always, not a single item out of place. Stopping at her dresser, I needed to feel close to her. I tore open a drawer and pulled out a sweater. The material was much softer and smoother than anything I owned and I burrowed my face in it, so that I could really smell her. A sense of calm washed over me and I let myself fall backwards onto her bed, so that I could be surrounded by her scent. My sweet Natalia, how I had missed her. “I fell for those ocean eyes.”

There was nothing I hadn’t missed about her: her eyes that would sparkle like the stars on a bright and cold night. Her deep, soothing drawl. Her soft and luscious hair that I could almost feel running through my fingers. All of it making up the resilient, courageous and ruthless warrior that I had loved for as long as I could remember. My sweet, dear sister. We would be together again soon and then nothing could tear us apart ever again. A sudden sound snapped me back to attention and I quickly got off the bed, hiding beside the doorframe to her bedroom. The steps were careful and calculated, yet soft. A smiled curved over my lips as I recognized them.

“Natalia, любимый, I’ve been looking for you.” Her steps froze at the sound of my voice. I slowly emerged from my hiding spot with the smile still on my lips. Natalia had never looked quite as beautiful as she did with her gun pointed at me. “Oh, любимый, I’m not here to hurt you.” Natalia’s stance wavered just a little and I was elated to see her giving in to me. “I’m here to help you escape, sweet sister.” Confusion washed over Natalia’s face and I smirked as I was reminded that she had always been one of our more simple-minded sisters.

“Mother fell ill.” I explained it simply to her. My darling, simple sister did not need to know all the gory details of what I’d done to find her. “And some of our weaker sisters were flailing without a strong leader, so… I stepped in.” An emotion I didn’t quite recognize flashed over Natalia’s face and she lowered her gun a little. “But as you know, любимый, I’m not exactly a nurturing person and while I see no use of such foolish sentimentality, some of our sisters have requested that you re-join us.” I watched her closely, as I finished my sentence. “We are going to run that place together. That, and any other place you want, my sweet love.” Anger flashed in Natalia’s eyes and her gun was back in my face instantaneously.

I didn’t let her reaction deter me, though. I loved her and I knew that she loved me too. I gently placed my hand on her cheek and dragged her closer to me. “I cannot do this without you, sister. I cannot live with you… Do you have any idea how long I’ve been searching for you?” I placed my other hand on top of her gun and pushed it down until it was pointed at my chest. “If you won’t let me help you, then you’ll have to kill me, любимый.” Natalia’s eyes widened and jumped back and forth, from my face down to my chest. “Tell me, sweet sister. Which do you imagine is worse? Living without you or dying first?” I gently brought my hand up to her other cheek and pulled her closer to me, until our foreheads were resting on one another.

“любимый, my love, don’t resist me.” I whispered the last words before crashing my lips onto hers. The feel of her soft, full lips against mine was even better than I had dreamt. I gasped ecstatically into her mouth and let my hands slide into her hair. I tightened my grip on her hair, when she tried to pull away. She could breathe when I let her. Until then, I would kiss her as long as I pleased. A tear slid down her cheek and I understood. She had finally accepted that we were supposed to be together and that we would rule alongside each other. “You will be the most perfect Mother, любимый.” I whispered against her lips.

Suddenly, a burning feeling spread through my chest and I could hardly breathe. “любимый, do you feel it, too?” I gasped. “We are finally becoming one.” Each syllable hurt more than the last and I barely registered Natalia’s gun clattering to the floor. Something warm ran down my chest and my legs almost collapsed under me. I clung to Natalia and she fell to the floor with me. She wrapped her arms around me and I was in heaven. “You are so beautiful, sweet Natalia.” Even as my vision blurred and I could feel the pull of a deep, dark sleep, I could not pry my eyes away from her. “Sister, I feel so tired…” My voice was cracking from all the effort it took me to speak, but she was here. My true love, my dear sister. I had finally found her again. “Sleep, sister. Everything will be alright.” My sweet Natalia’s voice was the last thing I heard before the darkness took me.

Okay, so Tumblr was acting all crazy when I was making this post, so hopefully, it'll work! 😬

Also, as always, would love feedback in any form! Comment, reblog, messages! It doesn't matter. ❤️

[needs-to-stop-looking-at-yigas]

Kohga and Pomma deciding to mess with Sooga by fucking right in front of him. Oh, and they make Sooga wear that chastity device again for good measure 🥰

yeah we can! let's go, and happy birthday!

"So we agree."

"ABSOLUTELY. He needs a little something special. But you know how he is."

"True, true. Which is why I should get my hooks into him first. You know he can't say no to me."

They both nodded. Pomma and Kohga may not have had much in common, but there was ONE thing that bonded them; their love for their precious Sooga. If only Sooga knew just how much they really did love him.

---------------------------------

"Sooga! You're back!"

Sooga had just gotten back from a meeting with King RhoamRhoam (for some reason King Rhoam felt so awkward around Kohga, but he’d never explain, oddly enough), and Kohga was apparently just SO giddy to see him back. Sooga chuckled, nodding as he let Kohga hold his face (even if he had to kneel down to his level to let him do so).

“I am, yes. He wanted to relay this message to you-”

“Yeah yeah yeah, not important right now. You need to follow me.”

“Did something happen?”

Oh that ever concerned look on his face, ever ready to spring into action, even when he JUST got home. Kohga tried not to chuckle, motioning with his head for him to follow.

“Just follow, big guy.”

Sooga did as he was told, absolutely ready to help Kohga with whatever it was that he needed. Kohga guided him to his room, and shut the door behind them. Sooga looked around, trying to spot an obvious problem, and found nothing.

“What is the problem?”

“You.”

Sooga seemed startled by the sudden statement. Which Kohga expected. He tried not to giggle at the startled look on his pretty face.

“M-me? What did I do? How did I disgrace you, my Master? Was I taking too long? Is it because I didn’t bring a gift with me? Is it because I left without making you food beforehand? What is it?”

Oh so worried, his poor dutiful Sooga. Sooga put his hands on his hips, shaking his head.

“You’ve been fucking Rhoam, haven’t you?”

Sooga did a double take, clearly not expecting that. It was a huge ass lie, but as far as Sooga knew, Kohga ACTUALLY thought this. He shook his head wildly.

“Master Kohga! I swear I haven’t! I’ve been NOTHING but professional with the King, I-”

Kohga held his hand up, silencing him, and shaking his head.

“You wanna know how I know, Sooga? I know because I had a little spy follow you to the castle, just to keep an eye on you. And he says he’s catching you putting stock in the royal treasury.”

“I’m...what?”

“You know what, that was a bad metaphor-point is you’re giving it to the king up the ass.”

Sooga wanted to speak, but Kohga wouldn’t let him. He folded his arms across his chest, pretending to be cross.

“Ah ah ah. You want me to forgive you for this, right?”

“I would beg until the end of time for you to forgive me.”

“Then apologize properly.”

Sooga had his forehead to the floor in a second, in a full Yiga apology.

“I’m sorry, with all I am.”

Kohga patted his head, as if he was satisfied. Sooga looked up at him, and Kohga sighed, as if he was mentally debating what to do with him.

“Tell you what. If you can go through one little punishment, I’ll forgive you.”

“Any trial you deem fit, I will take for you.”

“That’s what I thought you’d say. Up up.”

Kohga gave the command as if he was a pet, and Sooga obeyed, getting up on his feet with surprising speed. God this guy was fit and agile as they came. Kohga made him stay put as he dug into his closet, before bringing out a box. It was dusty, but somewhat familiar.

“What is-”

“Strip. Everything but the mask.”

Sooga obeyed without any further questions, stripping in record time. Kohga liked watching him undress. His fingers moved so fast, he put everything away properly and with clear organization-he was so efficient. He took a good look at his nude frame, honestly feeling bad he was putting him through this. But it was kinky, so it was okay. Kohga dusted the dirt off the box (it had been a LONG time since Sooga had been bad), and dug out his chastity belt. Sooga tried not to step back, clearly having flashbacks to the torture that was NOT getting an erection.

“M-master Kohga please-”

“Stay. Still.”

Sooga clearly didn’t want to, but he did just that. He let Kohga strap the chastity belt onto him, nice and snug. Kohga patted it for good measure, and pointed to the chair right by their bed (sometimes one of them wanted to be on the bed, the other wanted the chair. Yeah, gross couple shit). Sooga sat on the chair, bracing himself to be touched. Only, he received nothing as Kohga just sat on the bed, grinning up at him. Sooga was about to ask what was happening, before there was a knock at the door.

“Pomma! Just in time, come on in!”

Sooga went to cover himself upon the door opening, when Kohga barked at him to not do so. Sooga sat there, caged, nude, and shameful. Pomma gave him a small wave as she sat down on the bed.

“I take it someone has already started their punishment.”

“Yep! You ready?”

“He looks so sad, Kohga. Can’t I just give him one kiss?”

“Ugh. Fine, ONE kiss, but that’s it, this is a punishment, not a reward.”

Pomma giddily got in front of Sooga, tilted his mask up a bit, and pecked his lips.

“Good luck, Soogy.”

Sooga was about to ask just what was happening, when Pomma joined a suddenly nude Kohga on the bed, starting to strip herself free of clothes. Sooga gripped onto the arm rests, trying to figure out just what to do with himself here. Kohga put his hand on Pomma’s thigh, lightly massaging her flesh.

“Now, you’re gonna sit there, and just watch. No touching, and no talking until we talk to you first. Got it?”

Sooga nodded, being mindful to stay silent and watchful.Pomma lightly clapped her hands, clearly eager to put on a show for her Sooga. Even though it was a punishment, he deserved to have a bit of a show. Sooga palmed and played with Kohga’s cock, taking note to how envious Sooga looked. It was precious, how much he wanted to touch them. Kohga kept talking as he felt himself get hard in her hand.

“You’re doing good so far. Not a single word out of your mouth, like a good boy. Pomma, he’s a good boy right?”

“So far. But then again, we did just start. There’s plenty of chances for him to mess up, like say, from seeing me do this.”

She knelt down to kiss at his semi hard cock. Carefully, softly. Delicate enough for Kohga to grumble bitterly. He hated shit soft and sweet.

“Pomma it’s HIS punishment, not m-”

Then she finally indulged him. She groaned as she took him fully into her mouth, groaning as drool cascaded down his girth. One hand held his cock, the other played with one of her tits, putting on quite the show for a rather uncomfortable looking Sooga. He wanted to move, wanted to speak, wanted to get hard. But they wouldn’t let him. Kohga ran his hands through her hair as she sucked him off, and he swore he heard a whimper from their poor Sooga. He liked his hair being played with too, and him not getting it was clearly not something he was enjoying. Kohga snickered, making the show of running his fingers through her cream colored hair.

“Aw, you want your hair played with too, huh Sooga? Well, that sucks, because you’ve been bad. POMMA has been good, so this is what she gets. She gets a mouth full of cock, and her pretty hair played with. And you know what? Just because Pomma has been so good, she gets an extra prize. Pomma, back.”

Pomma pulled away, making the mess of drool pretty obvious on his cock, before laying on her back, and spreading her legs open, presenting herself. Kohga carefully rubbed her upper thigh, before letting his hand down to her bare, hairy pussy. Kohga didn’t like women, but damn did he know how to treat someone as pretty as Pomma. He softly petted her puffy outside, getting her used to his touch.

“See how well she gets treated? Because she isn’t going around fucking dilfs? Especially not without MY permission. Someone forgot just how to behave. And now, he doesn’t get to get hard, does he?”

Sooga watched his fingers as they palmed at her. He wanted that. He knew how soft his hands were. He knew how soft SHE was. He swallowed, forcing his dry mouth to speak.

“That’s...right, Master Kohga.”

“Say it.”

Sooga knew just what exactly he wanted. He swallowed what felt like dust, before he forced himself to do just that.

“I don’t get to get hard. Because I haven’t been...behaving.”

“Exactly. Now SHE gets to cum, and you can’t.”

Kohga helped himself, and started to finger her wet pussy. Sooga watched her squirm and moan under his hands, clearly trying to stand still for him. To say Kohga was the best at fingering was NO exaggeration. So nimble, so smooth, it made Pomma shake and drip in mere moments. All while Kohga sat there, stroking himself, and looking at Sooga.

“See how much fun she’s having? See how she’s dripping all over the bed? See how she gets EVERYTHING, and you get nothing?"

"I didn't m-mean to-"

"I didn't ask you a fucking question."

Sooga watched in jealousy as Kohga’s three fingers stuffed her, right to the knuckle. Sooga knew first hand, how good his Master was at fingering, and this was absolute torture. His cock kept trying to get hard, only for it to be painfully stopped. Sooga tried to wedge his fingers in there before, but there was nothing. No relief in sight. Kohga sighed, as if he was terribly displeased (though Pomma sure as hell wasn’t).

"You haven't been this bad in such a long, long time, Sooga. You bad boy, ESPECIALLY thinking I wouldn't catch you. Pomma, eyes up here, hun."

Pomma tried (and struggled) to look up past her chest, right at Sooga. Her face was flushed, but oh so satisfied. He WISHED he was her right now. Getting fingered as quickly and as roughly as she was right now. Her thick mane of hair getting soaked in all of those wet, slick juices. He wanted anything and everything, but he couldn’t.

"Oh, poor Sooga. Being the only one who can't cum. That sucks. Maybe you shouldn't have whored out. I mean RHOAM of all people. Granted A+ on that girth, but come on."

Sooga was about to ask just how he knew his girth, but given the fact that Kohga had nestled his fingers keep inside of her, finally making her cry out as she came...well, it didn't feel important. Kohga was ruthless to her as well, snapping his soiled fingers.

"No time for rest, either of you. On your back, look at him."

Pomma obeyed, shakily getting up as she laid down, head hanging off the bed to look at Sooga. She stuck her tongue out at him, just in time for Kohga to cum, right over all over her tits. The agony of not being able to cum was more than words could say. Watching his thick cum trickle down her smooth skin- he wanted to help her and lick it off for her. Kohga finished on her, sighing, as if he wasn’t happy.

"And now, I'm going to blow her right up her ass. And you're gonna sit there, aren't you? Wishing you had this? Go on. Say it."

"....i….i want to fuck Pomma's ass."

"Ah but ya can't. Because you decided that THE KING was more important. All fours, Pomma, and stick your tongue out more, you know he likes it."

Sooga whined, squirming in his seat. This was all SO terribly hard, in a way.

[theladysexpistol]

Hi! I love your writing and I’m wondering if you could do a one shot of Risotto wakeing up from a one night stand with s/o in bed. And you know the phrase every action has a consequence? Could the consequence be s/o pregnant?

I started this one super early because I was really intrigued by the concept and actually have not really written Ris like... ever

Again tried to make it suggestive and sexy like the Mista one where reader shaves his face, idk how successful I was 😬

This is probably the closest to smut I’ve had on my blog, so reader discretion advised!!

~~~

As the leader of Passione’s elusive La Squadra di Esecuzione, Risotto didn’t have time for relationships. Every single one he had tried had gone up in smoke. His work was more important to him than anything else, his team more important than anyone who could come along. Though he, like most but perhaps not all men, desired a sexual partner from time to time. He didn’t go to Passione parties often. But he went to this particular one.

You weren’t of much note in Passione, if you were being honest with yourself. A member of a team under Polpo’s jurisdiction, but you weren’t even the leader. You were a grunt - expendable, but vital to the gears that kept Passione churning money. You spent most of your days in the casinos of Milan, using your good looks to slip past the defenses of even the richest, most cautious members of Italian society, and wringing them for every penny they owed the mafia. It was work that consumed much of your life, and most relationships were out of the question when the men you dated learned you used your body for such a job. You weren’t usually needed or invited to parties hosted by Passione capos. But you were invited to this one.

The taste of expensive champagne was still on Risotto’s lips when he woke up. Lifting himself up onto his elbows, he glanced down to find he was naked. He gave a deep groan and reached to the top of his head, and could feel that his platinum hair was more messed up than a normal restless night of sleep warranted. He was in a bedroom he didn’t recognize. Upon hearing a soft breath, feeling it dust across his bicep, he glanced down at who he presumed was the owner of the apartment he found himself in.

When his eyes fell on you, the gaps in his memory slowly filled themselves in. He’d been bored as hell at the party the night before, and looking for an excuse to leave. It seems the two of you had migrated toward the same corner, you in order to avoid the drunk street thugs who thought they had a shot in hell with you, and him to avoid talking to anyone who wasn’t worth his time (which was most of Passione, he was quickly learning). Everyone else at the party was boring to him; but his eyes caught a glimpse of the beautiful skin exposed by your backless black dress, the way the straps crossed over your shoulder muscles reminded him of his preferred everyday look, as opposed to the restrictive suit he had begrudgingly put on. It was like you were purposely trying to draw his attention, and the thought of bruising up that flawless skin with his mouth turned him on in a way he hadn’t lusted after someone in a long time.

You had heard stories about the hitman team’s leader, but not a single one effectively communicated the experience of seeing him in person. Risotto was a hulking man, with an intense gaze that was only accentuated by his tattooed black sclera. Intimidating men didn’t scare you; they tried. But there was a strange sense of fear that struck you when those eyes looked over you. Like a predator hunting it’s prey, and it stirred a sick arousal from within you.

Flashes of words exchanged gave way to the sensation of his fingertips brushing over your bare skin. He lifted up one of the straps across your back and snapped it, reveling in the way it made you jump. He saw that fear and arousal in your eyes, and Risotto calmly responded by suggesting he bend you over the hors d'oeuvres table and take you there.

When his lips met your neck, you had honestly wanted him to do it.

Instead, you both went with the better option; ditching the rest of the party altogether.

He didn’t even know your name, and yet the two of you had gone for so long into the night, body to body, his cock sheathed all the way between your folds. The shape of your body, the way he could get such delicate sounds from you simply with his touch, the dirty things he whispered against you in that deep, baritone voice of his; Risotto played you as easily as a musician did their chosen instrument. The experience was unlike any other man you had ever gotten under, and you weren’t quite sure if you could ever go back. By the time you finished, you couldn’t count how many times he had brought you to climax, blinking back the stars that filled your vision when he’d released inside you. You were still dripping with his semen when the two of you had fallen asleep.

For a one-night stand, Risotto had been very careful and considerate of moving your body after the way he’d just fucked you.

That was how he found himself now, sitting up in your bed, under your sheets, next to you and watching you sleep. He’d made plenty of bad decisions before in his life, but this didn’t feel like one. There was a very good chance the two of you would never cross paths again; or maybe if you did, you’d enjoy a part two to this little escapade.

When you woke up, Risotto was still watching you with those dark, dark eyes of his. You’d barely blinked the sleep out of your eyes and muttered a good morning to the stranger in your bed when you were suddenly caged in again, staring up at the intense eyes of Risotto Nero once again. There was a hunger in them that you recognized.

“That’s certainly one way to wake up,” you teased him, enjoying the way his lips curled into a grin.

“You’re just so goddamn beautiful, I don’t think I can help it,” he growled, leaning down and wrapping his mouth around the exposed nipple of your breast.

Forget waiting for a part two. Why wait when you could continue where you left off last night the next morning?

~~~

“The boss has something on you.”

Those were the words of the goon that Risotto had forced to fix the burned picture of Venezia for him, moments after Risotto had created needles that buried out of the right side of his face, bloody and screaming in pain. He’d lost five members of his team, only hearing of Melone’s death some half an hour earlier when he sent Ghiaccio the restored picture. Almost all their hopes were riding on Ghiaccio’s ability to seize the girl - or whatever it was that the picture was telling them to look for at the gates.

Naturally a man with little patience, Risotto had sliced off his arm in response with a knife protruding from the man’s elbow.

“And do tell me,” he leaned in close, cold fury in his voice like the mafia capo he was. “What exactly is this weakness that I’m apparently unaware of?”

That was how he found himself barging into an abandoned apartment at 2am. Ghiaccio had been killed. He was all that was left of the hitman team. All their dreams, their desires to remove the boss for Sorbet and Gelato, it all rested on his shoulders.

All the more reason that he had to find whatever this was the boss apparently had over him, and snuff it out first.

There had clearly been a struggle here. Risotto didn’t understand; he didn’t have connections. His blood ran cold when he found a picture frame on the kitchen counter, smashed like it had been thrown and he recognized you. That beautiful stranger he’d slept with so many nights ago; but he still never learned your name, and as disappointed as he was the boss was using an innocent member of his own mafia as a hostage reminded Risotto just how sick and twisted his enemy was.

In the living room though, he found it. He found his weakness.

There were pictures of you, your family, but most importantly a little boy was in much of them. While he had the same shape as you, Risotto recognized the platinum hair and the crimson eyes on the boy. There wasn’t any doubt in his mind.

He’d had a son, who he didn’t even know about.

Risotto couldn’t help but shut down for a moment, any thoughts about revenge, about his team leaving his head. He’d had a son. Why hadn’t you told him? He was a Passione capo, and while he certainly didn’t get as much money as gambling or drugs did, he still could have given you a comfortable life. A life where he would’ve hid you and your son - his son - long before the boss‘ agents find you.

Instead he finds pictures of you working in a diner, presumably having left the mafia life to raise the child that had been his fault. He finds your apartment missing both of you. Risotto is overcome with not a sense of fatherhood, or duty to someone he met and spent a night with, but a sense of responsibility. He’s the reason that scum of the earth had taken an innocent infant boy hostage.

Risotto headed to Sardegna with more than vengeance on his mind. He’s going to find you or he’s going to kill the boss of Passione, whichever comes first.

[dudeandduchess]

Cooking with Kyōjurō: Strawberry Shortcake (Kyōjurō x F!S/O, Modern AU, NSFW Scenario)

Summary: Kyōjurō and his wife are putting in some overtime to finish R&D for the seasonal menu change, and with no one else around, things get a little heated— all in time for a certain someone’s birthday. Note: I know, I know. The Mulan AU was supposed to be up today. But we’ll push it for tomorrow. Sorry, bbys! Word Count: 3,036

Warnings: Smut, Food Play, Semi-Public Sex, Kitchen Sex, Oral Sex, Vaginal Sex, Dirty Talk, Breeding Kink, Creampie

***

Kyōjurō sighed softly, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, as he leaned over the filled-out sheets of paper on the stainless-steel counters. He then crossed out something on the top sheet, setting the pen down and rolling his neck to loosen out the tension he felt on his shoulders.

It had already been a week since they started research and development for the new menu, but they were only halfway through revising all of the recipes. Had he been just a married man with no child, then he wouldn’t have had a problem with staying so late at the restaurant— but, as it was, he wasn’t.

He was married and had a kid at home— one that he wasn’t even able to tuck into bed, nor read stories too, all because of the blasted menu change. Hell, he couldn’t even see his daughter awake; since he left home before she woke up, and came back when she was already fast asleep.

And it was taking its toll on him.

Kyōjurō was never one to be snappy, but everyone was giving him a wide berth in the kitchen— since the pissed off aura kept wafting from him in droves. That, and because he had actually told someone off for messing an entire batch of kanpachi crudo up.

Normally, he would have taken it in stride and made a last-minute solution to still get to use the food, but it was at that moment that everyone knew just how Kyōjurō made it to where he was in life; and it wasn’t by being so gung-ho and optimistic all the time.

If (Y/n) were to be honest, she would admit that she had wanted nothing more than to push her husband down at that moment and fuck him on the tabletop counter. But she was at work, so she had to reign her urges in.

They hadn’t even had the chance to get started on making baby number two, as both of them would just shower when they got home— before passing out on their bed, due to how tired they were as of late.

And so, that was how she had come up with the plan to give him a well-deserved birthday present; which played out nicely with their schedules, since they almost always got out of the kitchen at around two in the morning.

It was such an unhealthy schedule, but it was the price that they had to pay to have lived out their dreams of providing good food for people.

To set her plans in motion, she had to go home and grab a quick shower— if only to freshen herself up before setting things in motion. She felt so unsure about wearing the lingerie set that Kyōjurō had given to her a few months before— a crotchless, red lace ensemble that left nothing to the imagination, as well as a matching bra that had her nipples pressing up against her dress.

It really wasn’t ideal to even propose sex in the kitchen, but she also knew that it had always been one of her husband’s wishes to fuck her at their workplace— so, she found herself finally about to give in to that request of his.

Gingerly, she adjusted her hold on the small cake in her hands— one that Senjurō and Ran had set to making earlier in the day, all for Kyōjurō’s surprise. Of course, she left the details of her own surprise out of it; as a decent mother and sister-in-law would do.

Her footsteps were muffled against the rubber matting that they’d laid out in the kitchen, but her heels got caught in the tiny holes, so she was practically tip-toeing her way over to him— if only to make herself seem sexy.

Because it would really not be sexy, if she were to get her heels caught in the mat. Not at all.

Kyōjurō was still poring over their rough menu, bent over the long counter and leaning on his elbows as he read over every single thing they’d written down. It was eerily silent, and darker than usual, as they had turned off most of the lights in the dining area— which was visible from where they were, as it was an open kitchen— but Kyōjurō paid no mind to it.

He was so focused on getting their job done, more because he wanted to get home before his birthday and celebrate turning twenty-eight by fucking his wife until he was sure that she was pregnant.

“Kyō,” (Y/n) called out softly, licking her lips briefly as her nerves tried to creep up on and consume her. The last thing she needed was to chicken out; not when she had already worked up so much courage to even do what she was about to.

The blond looked up at his wife then, finally noticing that she had been there for a while— since she was already standing a few feet away from him, with a small strawberry shortcake in her hands; all while wearing a dress, and sexy heels, too.

He could feel his cock throb at that, stirring to life within the confines of his slacks, as he took in more of the delicious sight that his wife made.

“Hi, baby,” Kyōjurō greeted, a small grin tugging up at the corners of his lips, as he closed the distance between them and placed his hands on her arms— caressing her smooth and supple skin with as much reverence as he could muster at that moment. “For me?”

“Sen and Ran made it earlier,” (Y/n) answered softly, taking one hand and plucking the lone strawberry from the top of the cake. She then held it out to his lips, gently running the tip of the fruit against his bottom lip— inadvertently smearing the whipped cream icing along his lips.

The blond’s tongue poked out to lick off the sweet icing, grinning when the sweetness coated his tongue. “That’s good.”

And then, he slid his left hand up to encircle his wife’s right wrist, using that grip to bring the strawberry up to his lips once more— before bringing it up to her lips, all so she could take a bite out of it. His cock got even harder in his pants at that, as his gaze took in the tantalizing way that her pretty mouth wrapped around the fruit.

However, before Kyōjurō could lean in and savor the taste of the strawberry from her lips, (Y/n) stepped away from her husband and set the cake and piece of fruit down on the pass; letting her eyes flicker up to those irises that she loved so much, and taking note of the way that they darkened with lust.

Especially when she turned around and showed him the zipper on the back of her dress.

The young man didn’t even need to be asked to move at that, automatically stepping forward to unzip the back of his wife’s dress— and watching her so intently, as she slipped the straps off her arms and let the garment fall to the floor.

His eyes immediately widened at the sight of her ass in those lace panties that he’d gotten for her months before; yet he could only wait with baited breath as she turned around and showed him the absolutely sinful ensemble that she wore for him.

She had worn it before in the bedroom, but seeing her wear the center-slit bra, and the crotchless panties had his cock twitching to attention between his legs.

“Fuck. You’re so beautiful,” He whispered reverently, moving to palm his erection over his pants, if only to ease the pressure he felt.

Things were a blur after that; one minute both of them were standing a few feet apart, and the next (Y/n) was on top of the steel countertop, with her legs slung over her husband’s shoulders as he traced her pussy’s slit with his index finger.

Kyōjurō then leaned forward, tentatively sucking his wife’s clit into his mouth, as his eyes landed on the cake that she’d set down earlier. And, even though it pained him to move away from her, he did so to get the sweet treat and pull it closer to him.

Then, with the index finger on his left hand, he scooped up an ample amount of the icing and smiled right up at his wife— as she gazed down at him from where she was sprawled on the countertop.

“Kyō? What are you going to do with that?”

“Relax, baby. I’m just enjoying my cake… and my wife.” The words sent a shiver running up her spine, making her wait in tense anticipation for him to do something— anything, really.

Her legs almost snapped shut around his head, had he not wedged himself closer to her— right before smearing the cool icing along her clit.

“Kyōjurō,” (Y/n) breathed out with a stuttering sigh, eyes falling shut as she felt his tongue lap at her pussy— slow and deliberate at first, until he sucked her clit into his mouth once more; flicking the tiny nub between his teeth, and making her legs quiver with the threat of an oncoming orgasm.

However, the young man pulled away the moment that he knew that his wife was about to cum— smiling down at her, as he got up from between her legs and tugged her hips to the lip of the counter, so that her legs were on either side of his waist, with his clothed cock pressed up against the wet slit between her crotchless panties.

She was going to make a mess of his slacks, but that was the last thing on Kyōjurō’s mind at that moment, as he unbuckled his belt and pushed his pants and boxers far down enough to let his erection spring up against the hem of his chef’s jacket.

The action left a wet spot of precum on the white uniform, yet he still leaned forward and nestled the underside of his cock against his wife’s slit— slowly grinding against her, and deliberately hitting her clit with every thrust. He was completely unmindful of the mess he was already making, and the mess that he had yet to make— especially when he scooped up more of the icing with his index finger, and smeared it up (Y/n)’s torso in a cool line.

He then got some more icing from the cake, using that to top his wife’s nipples with the sweet treat; spreading it around with the tip of his finger, and flicking her nipples with that same digit— which had her legs tightening on either side of his waist.

“F-fuck! Kyō!” (Y/n) gasped out, close to being delirious with pleasure just from those ministrations alone. Her hands, which laid on either side of her, clenched into fists; trying to grab hold of anything that would anchor her to reality, but failing to do so since there was nothing but a metal counter beneath her.

As if that wasn’t pleasurable enough, the blond then bent down to take (Y/n)’s left nipple into his mouth— licking and sucking the icing off of the taut bud, before finishing it off with a gentle nip of his teeth.

Her hands came flying up into his hair at the nip, holding on to him tightly as he switched to her right nipple— completely oblivious to the mess he’d made on her the red lace bra.

At that point, with all of the sucking and the grinding, she was dripping wet— and it could be heard throughout the entire kitchen. Soft, wet squelches reverberating off of the tiled walls, and filling the silence with the sound of their lewd actions.

However, Kyōjurō was far from done with his wife.

He claimed her mouth as soon as he cleaned the icing off of her right nipple, letting her taste the sweetness of it on his tongue, before nipping at her bottom lip as he pulled away. “I can’t wait to put my cock inside you, baby. I’m going to fill you up with so much cum. Fuck, I’m going to knock you up tonight; you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

She could only nod at the filthy words that he whispered against her lips, feeling their lips brush momentarily with every downward shake of her head. “Please, Kyō. I need you now.”

“Tell me what you want me to do to you.”

Her eyes snapped open at that, looking at him in disbelief before considering giving in to his request.

In all the years they’d been married, never had Kyō made her wait that long— or even beg that much— for his cock. He was someone who always loved to please her, so having him ask for more after hearing her plea threw her for a loop— and it made her incredibly wetter, as his cock still kept rubbing up and down her slit.

“I want you to stuff me with your cock, and fuck me so good that I won’t be able to walk tomorrow,” The young woman pleaded, a slight whimper punctuating her words, before she gasped and clung tighter to her husband. “Please, Kyōjurō. I need to feel your cum inside me. Plug me up with your di-”

She couldn’t continue after that, as she had been cut off by Kyōjurō slipping his cock inside her— down to the hilt— in one smooth move. A groan left his lips at the sensation of her tight walls squeezing around him, yet he fought the urge he had to repeatedly ram himself inside (Y/n) in his search for release.

Instead, he languidly pulled his hips back— dragging his cock out of her, just so she could feel every ridge and vein rubbing against her walls. It had her locking her feet at his back, trying to get him to fill her up again, yet he was having none of that.

It was his birthday, after all, and he had to have the reigns that night.

So, he pulled out until the head of his dick slipped out of her— pressing the blunt edge up against her cunt and grasping it with one hand, all so he could slap it lightly against her clit.

(Y/n) cried out at that, nails tugging at his hair, and back arching up into him, which he took as a sign of her neediness. But it wasn’t until she started full on begging that a smile crept onto his face.

“Please, Kyōjurō! Please fill me up with your cock. I need you; I need you to fuck me now,” Her words were tacked off with a desperate sob, one that had the blond feeling a mix of guilt and lust inside him, as he had never seen his wife as needy as she was at that moment.

And so, deciding to have mercy on her, she aligned himself up to her entrance once more, and pushed inside with one hard thrust— making her back slightly slide up against the steel countertop. Yet he was only rewarded with a pleasured moan, instead of a pained grunt; and that had him moving inside her— thrusting his hips vigorously into her, and drawing out moans and sighs that were music to his ears.

With every inward thrust, his cockhead would hit the entrance of her cervix— further making her breathless, as she tried to meet him thrust for thrust. Her desperation was so beautiful as he loomed above her, that he couldn’t help but want to immortalize the scene before him— but, unfortunately, his phone was in his back pocket and he wasn’t going to stop fucking his wife just to get it.

“Fuck, baby, I’m going to cum,” He groaned softly, his hands tightening their hold on her hips as he fucked her deeper and faster— even swiveling his hips to drag his cockhead along the entrance to her cervix.

The move had her tensing up beneath him, silent at first as she bit down on her bottom lip to keep her moans in— until she threw caution to the wind and let out the most sinfully pleasured moan that he’d ever heard her make.

So, he kept doing that; alternating between swiveling his hips and thrusting into her with vigor, drawing out more and more of her pleasure, until he could feel her walls clamp down on his cock. It was as if she didn’t want to let his dick go, what with how tight she nestled him inside her; partnered with how she pulled him closer to her with her legs.

He could feel her muscles quivering, yet the pressure he felt digging into his back never lessened— it was her own subtle way of telling him to cum, as her mouth was too busy painting the kitchen’s air with her pleasured cries.

“I’m cumming! I’m cumming!” She yelled out, shameless in her own passion as she pulled Kyōjurō down to capture his lips in a kiss; if only to feel and taste more of him.

With one last thrust, Kyōjurō buried himself in (Y/n)’s cunt, feeling his cock twitch inside her as thick ropes of his hot cum coated her walls. He then pulled his lips away from hers, momentarily catching his breath before pressing a brief peck to her lips. “You were so amazing, baby.”

At that, a lazy smile made the young woman’s lips quirk up at the corners— as she opened her eyes that had fallen closed somewhere along their hot fucking session. And, instantly, her gaze landed right on the digital clock that hung on the wall behind her husband.

It was already fifteen minutes past midnight.

So, with her nails gently scratching at his scalp, she whispered, “Happy birthday, baby.”

[tigers-eyes-26]

Elope Part 1

Daisy and Donald had it all planned weeks ago. They had a month to prepare. Donald started by sprucing up his houseboat. No one much noticed. he was always working on something in his houseboat mostly because he was always breaking something.

The gardener was the one who noticed first. Someone had uprooted all the Daisies. He eventually found them in the planter box under the houseboat’s window. The gardener didn’t want to insight any wrath, so he let it be. For now.

The second person to noticed was Huey.

Huey had a question to ask Uncle Donald it was for a badge. He found Donald in his room making a….bed? Out of some spare wood.

“What are you making Uncle Donald?”

WAK! Donald jumped causing himself to hit his thumb with his hammer. He sucked his thumb as he turned to face his nephew.

“A thed thor th enther.”

Huey cocked an eyebrow. Donald rolled his eyes and got his thumb out of his bill. “A. Bed. For. The. New. Renter.”

“You got a new renter?!”

“Ehh not yet.” Donald started to sweat as Huey rapid fired questions at him.

“Don’t renters usually supply their own furniture? Didn’t Storkules sleep on the floor?”

“Well….” Donald scratched his head.

“Is this to make the room more preferable? Will you put ‘fully furnished’ on the listing? I guess it wouldn’t be ‘fully’ furnished if there isn’t…”

“YES!” Donald interjected. “YES. Huey is there something you came here for?” his tone was sharper than he wanted it to be. He didn’t know how long he could keep up lying to his family. They could piece together things pretty quickly if they actually notice his on goings.

Huey realized he was interrupting something, but what was so special about making a bed? “Oh umm. I need to ask you some questions about when we were little. It is for the Child Care and Development badge.”

Donald let out the breath he was holding. Thank Goodness that’s all.

Huey interpreted the sigh as one of annoyance. He decided he wanted to be helpful to his Uncle “BUT I can use my salesmanship badge to help you put out a listing for the room!”

“NO!” again too forceful. “No, the room won’t be ready yet… ah” He saw Huey’s face fall a little. “Umm…how about you ask me questions while I work on this.”

“Ok!” Huey whipped out his notebook. “First question.” Huey paused “Why did you start this on bed in your room and not the extra room?”

Donald looked up at the door frame and then back at the almost finished bed frame. “Awww Phooey!”

(Huey just chalked it up to Donald flighty-ness. Donald stopped working on the bed and helped Huey.)

The third person to notice was Mrs. Beakley. She noticed Donald was taking note of her laundry routine. Then one day he approached her.

“Hey Mrs. B I can help you with all that laundry.”

There was something going on and she knew it would end with a theft. Was it worth intervening?

“Fine. Do you need me to show you how to properly wash them?”

“Nope! I got it!” Donald hefted the laundry basket out of Beakley’s hands.

Beakley decided she would read some more of her book, while keeping an eye on Donald. Curiously he stole Mr. McDuck’s silk bed set, a top hat, and a tux. While all these things were trivial Mr. McDuck only had one tux.

Beakley set herself up on the top of the gangplank and waited. Donald soon sauntered up to the gangplank. He was so pleased with himself that he didn’t notice Mrs. Beakley until she cleared her throat.

WAK! Donald jumped so high he almost dropped his plunder. Beakley allowed him to stabilize himself.

“Oh Mrs. B!” Beakley eyed his Ill-gotten goods. “Oh, these things? They’re…..stained! Sooooo Stained! I know of just the thing to get these stains out! Kinda long process to get these kinds of stains out though. It will take about two weeks to complete the full process. YEP! After two weeks these will be good as new!”

She was done let him dig himself into an ever-bigger hole. She borrowed her eyes into his face that eventually stopped Donald from rambling on.

“Donald, you know that I know that is a lie. Now why don’t you really tell me why you are stealing?”

“I’m Borrowing!” He defended.                

Beakley rolled her eyes. “Yes, for two weeks, and what are you doing with these items in those weeks?”

How could Donald lie to an international super spy? He sighed. “Alright you got me. I’m going to take Daisy out on a cruise for two weeks.” He gestured to his boat. “I wanna make it nice.” Donald shuffled his feet. Waiting for Beakley to berate him.

Bealey’s eyebrows shot up in surprise and then soften. The thought of romantic love and trying to impress the one your heart pines after. Donald looked up at the silent Beakley. She snapped out of her thoughts. She put a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll allow it this time. BUT…” She squeezed his shoulder menacingly. “After the two weeks you Better return these items Clean, Pressed, and Intact!”

Donald heard the threat. He saluted her the best he could while holding his newly acquired loot. “Yes M’am Mrs. B!” She let him go.

It was getting close to the day Daisy had picked out. The fourth person to notice was Della.

Donald went to the hanger to ask Launchpad to take his boat to the marina. He would Prefer Della’s flying over Launchpad’s but Launchpad would do it without questions.

Donald heard 90’s music and someone working with tools. Must be Launchpad fixing something he crashed. “Hey Launc…”

It was Della! She was on a ladder looking into the propeller of the Cloud-Slayer.  “Oh, hey Donald! Now that you are here, can you help me with this propeller. I just need you to turn on the propeller so I can see what it is sticking on.”

“Umm actually I was hoping Launchpad was here. Have you seen him around?”

“I think he was having a movie marathon with his buddy Drac…Something?”

Oh no once Launchpad had started watching something, there was no dragging him away. Also, Donald didn’t have time to track him down. He needed his boat at the marina today!

Della climbed down from the propeller. “What did you need Launchpad for?”

“I needed my boat in the marina….“

Della perked up “Where you going to? A pirate ship graveyard? An island of magic wielding people?”

“No place in particular.” Donald gestured airily. “Just sailing around.”

“No destination eh.” Della eyed him. Donald started to sweat. “Were you planning on taking anyone with you?”

Donald Stuttered. “It’s k-kinda a solo trip.”

“SOLO!? You don’t want to take your amazing twin sister with you!?!?!”  she draped her arm over his neck smiling brightly.

Donald rolled his eyes.

Della put her hands on her hips. “How about taking the boys with you?”

Donald shook his head.

“Uncle Scrooge?!”

“Na uh”

“Mrs. Beakley?”

“Nope.”

“What… What about your Girlfriend?!”

Donald Flushed pink. “No, she couldn’t get the time off.”

“So, sailing totally alone out there in the big wide deadly ocean! What if there is a storm? Or you get eaten by a gross fish? I can’t save you from a gross fish!”

Donald gave her a look.

Della threw up her arms “I know the irony!”

Donald reached and grabbed her arms and brought them down. “Della, I’ve checked the weather and the tides, I’m only sailing to places I know, all my communication devices work, I will call you and the boys every day.”

Della looked down at their clasped hands. “But still this is weird for you.”

Donald scratched the back of his head. “I need time…. to think…. I guess…”

Things snapped into place in Della’s head. “ARE YOU GOING TO PROPOSE TO DAISY!?”

Donald went bright red. He flapped his arms. “Gaaahhh DEEEEELLLLLAAAAAA!”

Della pointed at him with every word that came out of her mouth. “YOU ARE! I KNOW IT! THAT’S WHY YOU’VE BEEN MAKING YOUR HOUSEBOAT ALL FANCY!”

“SQWAK! HOW DO YOU KNOW ABOUT THAT!”

“I’ve known you my whole life! I knew you were lying when you said Daisy couldn’t get the day off! Also Huey mentioned that you were making the boat nice for a renter! Mrs. Beakley had to calm the gardener down because he was done with you stealing all his flowers. YOU DON’T PICK THAT MANY FLOWERS FOR RENTERS! Then I got Beakley to tell me that you stole Uncle Scrooges Tux! A TUX!?! What do you need a TUX for on the ocean?!”

Donald was sweating up a mess, blushing badly and leaning away from his sisters wild gesturing. While Della heaved some good breaths, Donald took this time to again hold his sisters’ hand so she could focus on what he was saying.

“Ok Fine I am planning something…Nice for Daisy.”

“If you are going to propose to her you need a videographer capturing the moment!”

Donald squeezed her hand tight. “Della! No. I want this to be a just me and Daisy thing!”

“Aww Come on. I need to see her reaction!” Della begged.

Donald stayed firm. “No. I need you to promise me that you will not sneak on my boat in the next couple of weeks.”

Della huffed “Fine I promise.”

Donald still didn’t let go of her hands. “And I need you to promise to not send the kids, Launchpad, Panchito, Jose, Uncle Scrooge, Mrs. B or anyone else to sneak on my boat.”

Della frowned.

He tugged her hands. “Della…..?”

“Okay I promise. Woodchuck’s Honor.” He let her hands go so she could give the Woodchuck salute.

Donald Gave Della a hug. “Thank you!”

She hugged him back. “yeah yeah ya big Palooka.”

Della got her kids together to help her strap up Donald’s Houseboat to the helicopter.  Once his boat was in the water and ready to go, they waved him off.  While waving and smiling Della whispered though her teeth. “Huey, honey, do you have access to a Spy bot?”  

[madamebaggio]

Notes: SMUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUT

ONLY SMUT! NOTHING BUT SMUT!

I love how every time I try to be productive I end up being non productive at all, but at least I finished this one, so... Yey?

Also, this is the previous chapter, and this is the dress Gretel wears to the party.

On other news... The next chapter is the last one ;)

****

Chapter 5

“I think this one suits you more.”

“No, black is too… Black. You really should go with gold.”

“This is so boring.”

Gretel glared at Liz. “I’m so sorry for your suffering.”

Liz just raised her beer bottle in Gretel’s direction.

Gretel was tired and in a bad mood. She’d never liked dressing up, and she liked even less the parade of dresses that they were offering her.

She didn’t like this assignment at all.

“Try the blue one.” Mina asked.

Gretel let out a long-suffering sigh, but went back behind the curtain to try the blue dress.

She was going to be attending a black market auction for magical items, and it was -apparently -a black tie affair. Agent Myers would be her “date”, and they were going to be the agency’s eyes on the party, so a second team could raid it.

And she had to dress the part.

She came out from behind the curtain with the damned blue dress.

Honestly, they were all the same to her.

Mina and Nuala gasped and said it looked lovely, while Gretel shared a resigned look with Liz. She just wanted them to pick one, so she could end this torture.

“I think that’s the one.” Nuala clapped her hands, a girlish excitement to her. Gretel smiled despite herself, because Nuala was always so serious and proper. It was nice seeing her having fun like this, even if it was at the price of Gretel’s pain.

“Great.” Gretel declared. “It’s the one. We’re done.”

“Let’s get pizza then.” Liz decided, getting up.

“We need to put the dresses away…” Mina started.

“We’ll do this later.” Liz pressed, already herding Mina and Nuala out. “Change clothes and come meet us in my room, Cinderella.”

Gretel flipped the other woman off and went back behind the curtain to take off this dress.

They were using the library to try the dresses on, and once the other women left, it was all quiet.

Exactly because of that, Gretel almost jumped out of her skin when she came out from behind the curtain and found Nuada studying the dresses.

“What the hell are you doing here?” She asked.

Nuada gave her a bored passing look, before focusing back on the dresses. “Will you be going to the auction?” He asked.

“Yes.” She put the blue dress back on the table. “So?”

He finally turned to her. “What dress have you chosen?”

“This one.” She pointed at the blue dress. “They’re all the same.” She grumbled.

He came closer to her -much closer -and touched the blue fabric. “Human fashion has its charms.” He murmured.

“Does it?” She asked, slightly taken aback by his words.

He just hummed. “Don’t use the blue dress.”

“Now you’re giving me fashion advice?” She scoffed.

He ignored her tone and walked away from her. “Use this one.” He touched a blood red dress, one that Gretel hadn’t even tried on. “It’ll suit you better.”

And then he was gone before she could say anything else.

***

Why had she picked the red dress?

What was wrong with her?

Why was she even listening to that fucking…?

Anyway… She was wearing the fucking red dress.

It was a thing of beauty, she could say as much. It had long sleeves and a slit that verged on too much, but it gave her more freedom to move her legs, and its skirt allowed her to strap a gun to her thigh, so it made her feel a bit better. The neckline was a bit much, but Gretel did like her boobs, so…

When she told the other women she changed her mind and was going with the red dress, Nuala’s eyes had rounded and Gretel wondered about it, but the elf princess didn’t say anything else about it.

She went to the party with Agent Myers and they mingled. It was horrible.

She hated that rich people with their fake laughter and champagne. All those force smiles and sparkly jewelry made her skin crawl and she’d rather be fighting an army of goblins than dealing with this bullshit.

There were a few magical creatures around, which probably explained how they’d managed to get their hands on the items being sold.

Some of them were quite innocuous -things to help sleep or even to make someone look younger and prettier -but some were actually dangerous.

They’d have to go in.

The order was to wait until everyone was seated for the auction.

Gretel just hoped it’d start soon. The shoes were killing her.

Myers was talking to some men, when she saw… Was that Nuada?

Their eyes found each other across the room, and he raised a glass in a silent toast to her. She glared daggers at him, making the elf smirk.

He slipped away through a door, and Gretel followed him. He led her in a short chase to an office.

“What are you doing here?” She hissed. She hadn’t heard anything about Nuada being part of this mission.

“I’ve got an invitation.” He told her simply. “An old contact thought it might interest me, and it did.”

“Does anyone know you’re here?” She demanded.

“I can’t get out without permission.” He reminded her flatly.

“Right.” Why hadn’t anyone told her about it? “Well, if you excuse me…”

Nuada blocked her way. “You wore the red dress.” He commented.

“How observant of you.”

“Red suits you.” He told her, his eyes taking her in carefully. It almost felt like a caress.

“I…” Gretel cleared her throat. “Whatever.” She grumbled at last, unsure of what to say more.

Nuada smirked. “Have I made you speechless, hunter?”

Gretel glared at him. “I need to get back out there.”

“We still have sometime.”

“For what?”

He backed her against a bookshelf. “For this.” He leaned his head in and kissed her.

And Gretel really should’ve pushed him away -she really should -but she didn’t. Maybe it was because he looked fucking good on those black clothes, or maybe she was that stupid, but she just kissed him back.

She grabbed fistfuls of his hair and opened her mouth under his, while Nuada pressed his body firmly against hers.

Gretel wasn’t sure if they were actually going to fuck here -dear Lord, did they even really have time for this? -but she wasn’t ready for him to break the kiss and put a bit of space between them. “What…”

He kneeled in front of her, his hands dove under the skirt of the dress and grabbed her knickers. Gretel’s and Nuada’s eyes locked as she felt him pulling the piece down her legs; and she stepped out of it almost in a trance.

“There’s something I’ve been thinking about.” He told her, his hands skimming her leg.

He used the slit of the dress to his advantage, as he kissed his way up her exposed thigh.

“Oh fuck.” Gretel groaned.

Nuada pulled her left leg over his shoulder, before dropping a teasing kiss to her cunt. Gretel’s whole body shuddered, and she worried she might fall down; but then his tongue was there and she didn’t particularly care anymore.

Probably because they didn’t have a whole lot of time, he wasted none of it with teasing. He ate her cunt like it was the most delicious dessert he’d ever tasted. Gretel scrambled for something to hold on to, grabbing at the shelves, biting her lips so she wouldn’t scream.

She shamelessly ground her cunt on his face, but he didn’t seem to mind it that much.

She could feel her peak coming, when he just stopped and got up. “Seriously?” She growled at him.

“Next time I do this, I want to have hours.” Nuada told her as he opened his pants. “I’ll spread you on the bed, maybe even tie you up.” He grabbed her leg and hooked on his waist. “I’ll drink from you for as long as I wish.” He teased her cunt with the head of his cock. “I’ll make you fall apart over and over again, until you’re incoherent from pleasure.” He pushed his cock into her, the grabbed her other leg too. “Then I’ll fuck you again and again and again.” He thrust once into her.

Gretel’s had thunked on the shelves, her legs squeezing his waist. “Who says…” She moaned. “Who says I’ll let you?”

“Oh you won’t let me, little human.” He murmured against her ear, his hips snapping against hers. “You’ll beg me for it.”

Arrogant fucker.

Gretel grabbed his hair in her fist and brought him in for another angry kiss. He fucked her hard against the shelves -it reminded her of the first time they’d done this, so completely out of control or reason.

Her forehead fell on his shoulder, and she just knew she’d have bruises on her thighs from how tight Nuada’s grip was.

And yet… Gretel couldn’t think of a single reason to stop this, to step away or protest. Hell, he was probably right; he could tie her up to a bed and she’d beg him for it.

“Give yourself to me, Gretel.” He whispered by her ear, tempting like the devil; and just like that she came, biting on his jacket so she wouldn’t scream.

She felt him pouring inside her -she needed to tell him to stop doing that -and then he slowly lowered her, making sure her legs could hold her, before stepping back and fixing his pants.

“Thanks for the mess.” She grumbled.

He looked absolutely smug when he pulled a handkerchief -a fucking handkerchief -from his jacket and offered her. Gretel used it to clean herself -she’d still need to stop by the ladies room before going back to the party -then just dropped it on the ground -not her house anyway.

She started looking for her knickers, when Nuada opened his jacket and took a dagger from it. It was piece of art: the handle seemed like black carved marble -though she doubted it was actually marble -with silver details and a blood red stone. The sheath seemed made of black leather, with some pattern into it.

“Here.” He pulled the skirt of her dress and attached it to the strap that was already holding her gun. He let the skirt fall back and eyed it critically, like he was deciding it was still inconspicuous. Nuada finally nodded his approval. “Do you think it’ll be in your way? Considering you already have a weapon there?”

Gretel was still waiting for the reason for this, but she moved her legs a bit. “No. It’ll be fine. We’ll be seated soon anyway.”

Nuada nodded once more. “Good. Keep it.”

“Why? I already have a gun.”

“Just keep it, little hunter.” He put his hand on her waist and watched it as he caressed the fabric of her dress. “Red does suit you very well.”

There was something in his eyes, in his voice… But Gretel just couldn’t grasp exactly what it was -besides frustrating as hell.

“We need to go.” He finally said.

“I can’t find my knickers.”

Nuada grinned. “I have them.”

“Give them back, you pervert.” She hissed.

“I’ll keep them for you.” He offered, like it was the most reasonable thing ever. “Don’t stay here too long.”

What the hell was wrong with this elf?

But as she watched him leaving, Gretel finally noticed one thing: the belt he was wearing was the exact same shade of red as her dress.

[heartofsnark]

What You'd Do To Me Tonight (OC/Eisuke)

Notes: Rounding out the birthday fics for the year is a fic for my dear friend @magaya-sou formerly @otomemonogatari or as i know them, Juni bean. This is a fic with their oc Junko and Eisuke having some fun times involving his ass. If you wanna read more about Junko from the actual wonderful mind who created her, check out Juni’s fic Complex Liaisons With A Side of Euphoria 

Summary: Junko pegs Eisuke then sits on his face, I can’t even try to be subtle here, there is literally no plot, theme, or idea, outside of that. 

Word Count: 1754

Warnings: Anal fingering, pegging, face sitting, teasing

Junko’s not sure what she did in life, if anything, to be blessed with such a beautiful scene. Eisuke, the Ichinomiya Eisuke, spread out on the bed before her with his legs spread wide and his hard cock leaking on his stomach. His knuckles turning white as he grips the sheets and his lower lip threatening to break by how hard he bites it, waiting albeit not patiently for the pleasure she’s about to give him.

Looking at the CEO during his day to day life, most people could never imagine him giving up control and being completely undone at the hands of someone else, a moment of vulnerability as he tries desperately to get what he need. Eisuke, desperate and wanting, something like that is never heard of.

But, if there’s one thing she’s learned in her time with him it’s that with her at least, and a greedy part of her hopes it’s only ever with her, the one thing that can always win out over his pride is his lust. He’s willing to let down his guard and his ego in order to chase the high of pleasure, both in himself and his partner. He may not say it in so many words and he may scoff when she brings anything up, but he always ends up indulging them both by giving in.

“Sometime this year,” he grumbles, glaring at her despite his flushed face and compromised position, as if being a brat will get him what he wants.

“Can never be patient, can you?” She ghosts a finger down the underside of his cock, just a teasing hint of pleasure that makes him groan.

Her fingers are already coated in lube, as is the thick pink strap on locked in place around her hips. As much as she’d love to bury it inside of him without hesitation, he needs to be properly prepped. The process doesn’t necessarily need so much teasing, but who could resist. She spreads his legs open wider, dipping her head down to kiss and nip what little bit of squish is to be found on his inner thigh. He makes a sound that could be considered a yelp, though he’d never want it called that.

She gently wraps the fingers of one hand around his cock, pressing her lips to the underside, teasing kisses and licks. Just a tease before she takes him apart with her fingers. Mouthing at his cock, her other hand finds his entrance, starting with the soft press of one finger.

He groans as she works her finger into him, he’s tight despite the copious amount of lube easing the way. She licks over the sensitive head of his cock, letting the more familiar source of pleasure help relax his body. He sighs and she feels the muscle relax, allowing her to slide in another finger. She scissors the digits, gently stretching him as she presses in deep, searching for the bundle of nerves that will be his undoing tonight.

She finds it and presses there; a loud groan leaving Eisuke’s lips, his cock leaking more precum onto her lips, and his hips jerking up. If not for him keeping him in place, he would have jolted up off the mattress.

A third finger inside of him and all he can do is curse, his hips caught between trying to grind down on her fingers or thrust his cock into her mouth. She thrusts, stretches, and rubs her fingers inside of him, milking his prostate as she licks up the steady leak of precum from his cock.

“Would you stop, fuck, ah, teasing already?” He manages to ask, sneering at her through his pleasure, his own form of begging her to fuck him.

“Hmmm,” she draws out the hum against the heat of his cock, “I don’t know if you’re ready.”

“Don’t be stupid, I’m more than ready and you know it.”

“I don’t know, baby, you might not be able to handle it.”

“Just fuck me already!”

“Well, all you had to do was ask,” she says through a laugh, it’s not exactly the sweet begging she’d like to get from him, but for Eisuke bitchy demands are a close second.

She pulls her fingers from him and sits back on her thighs, precum still clinging to her lips. Junko pulls Eisuke towards her, easily able to move his smaller frame, bringing his thighs up onto her own. The contrast between them drawing her eye, his thinner thighs compared to her thicker ones, his skin looking so much paler compared to her tanned flesh.

“I’m dying of old age,” he grumbles, and she pinches the skin of his thigh, making him flinch.

“Behave,” she warns him, lining her strap-on with his ass. A hiss of pleasure escaping him as the blunt head presses against his hole, just barely starting to tease him open with something so much thicker than her fingers.

There’s just a bit of resistance at first, but then she’s able to watch every inch slide into him, lube slicking the way. Eisuke throws his head back with a moan as she sinks the final pink inch into him. Pleasure simmers in her core, the sight of him too tempting and too beautiful. She drapes herself over him, his hard cock pressed between their stomach and her head dipped down to bite at his bared throat.

She holds his hands against the mattress, fingers intertwining as she sucks at his neck and draws back her hips, slowly easing out of his tight embrace only to thrust back in. His legs wrap around her waist, trying to fuck his hips up to match her movements, chasing his pleasure.

The smack of skin against skin echoes through the room, accompanying the slick sound of her fucking into him and his groans of pleasure. Pleasure is building for both of them, his cock leaking from both the fake cock forcing him open and the feeling of her soft stomach pressing against it. The harness keeps catching on her soaking wet clit with thrust into him, not enough to make her cum, but enough to keep the tension tight in her core.

She pulls her lips off of his neck, a dark blossom of a hickey where she was, and instead presses a kiss against his mouth. Their tongues intertwine as she starts to fuck harder and harder into him, the head pressing over and over into his prostate and catching on his sensitive walls with every thrust.

His kiss gets harsher, more teeth and a more demanding tongue, at every pump into him. His ankles dig into the squish of her backside, locking tightly around her as she fucks him apart. His grip on her hands get tighter, nails threatening to break the skin as he gets closer and closer to his breaking point.

It’s the twitch of his cock between their stomachs that gives him away, happening a split second before hot cum starts to coat their flesh. Thick spurts painting their stomachs white as his head slams back against the pillow, breaking the kiss, her name on his lips as orgasm washes over him.

She slows her thrusts, slowly fucking him through orgasm in order to drag it out for every second she can, pressing kisses to his neck and chest as she does. His loud echoing moans becoming whimpers, a noise she’ll never be able to forget as long as she lives, his body relaxing.

Slowly, she forces herself to pull away from him and eases her strap-on out of him, not missing the he lets out at being empty. Her eyes linger on what’s left before her, Eisuke flushed with a hand over his face. His stomach and softening cock coated with cum, his hole thoroughly fucked open. She really has no idea what she did to deserve such a sight, her thighs clenching to try to get some stimulation to her own swollen clit.

She’s leaking a mess of slick as she undoes the harness, air cool on her hot wet skin. It wouldn’t take much to get her there, a few rubs of her fingers to her aching clit and she’d be coming. Maybe it’d be more considerate, as Eisuke is still panting and reeling from his orgasm. But, his lip is between his teeth and she knows exactly how she wants to take care of her little problem.

Junko is moving his hand away from his face and hovering over him in the next second. There was a time in her relationship where she was hesitant to do something like this, not wanting to be selfish or hurt him with her size. But, those times are long gone and she straddles his head, lowering herself onto his lips without another moment of thought. To his credit, he doesn’t hesitate either, making her moan out as his tongue gets to work.

His arms wrap up and over her thighs, if anything trying to somehow bring her down further, not at all worried about smothering beneath her. Eisuke laps up her slick, purposely avoiding her clit at first, knowing how close she is already. She buries her fingers into his mess of brown hair, grinding herself against his tongue. He slurps up every last drop of slick, moaning against her sex at the taste of her. The pleasure in her growing tighter and tighter, building higher and higher, but she still needs that push. Then one harsh suck on her clit snaps the tension and sends her crashing down into ecstasy, moaning his name as she rides out the orgasm on his face.

Aftershocks rolls through her before ebbing away, every muscle in her relaxing as she rolls off of him, letting him come up for air. Once the initial haze of coming down off her orgasmic high fades, she finds her eyes once again drawn to him, they always seem to be. The addition of her slick coating his face, shiny in the lowlight of the bedroom, makes the sight even better. She can’t resist placing a hand on his chest, stray droplets of cum sticking to her fingers, and moving in close to his warm relaxed body.

“See, isn’t it so much better when you have to beg for it?” She teases against his ear.

“How about you find out for yourself.”

He’s on top of her in a flash smirking and cock quickly growing hard again, ready to give as good as he got.

[aonorunic]

The Sky Misses the Stars, Fire Emblem Fic

Summary: Byleth is a light sleeper, expect when Claude is next to her.

Pairing: Claude von Riegan x f!Byleth

Notes: I needed fluff. Fluff and mild spice.

Read on AO3.

Warm night air rushed in his face as Claude pulled on the reigns on his wyvern, directing it toward the balcony that was his ultimate goal. His guard broke off, flying their own mounts to the stables and announcing his presence so that Seteth would not have the King of Almyra shot out of the sky. He smirked to himself as he remembered the first time he had done this and the anger on Seteth’s face as he delivered a lengthy lecture about the properly introducing oneself and not making the entirety of the knights think someone was trying to assassinate the queen before allowing Claude to see Byleth.

“Shh, shh, softly girl,” Claude whispered to his wyvern as they hovered over the balcony. She snorted at him, but still kept the noise of her derision low as she landed. Claude chuckled at her, patting her neck as he dismounted. “Yes, you’re right, you know what you are doing more than I. Now, go get some food before the rest of the flight eats it all.” The albino wyvern snorted again, knowing there would be plenty of food, and took a moment to nuzzle her head against Claude’s stomach. “Uff, hey now!” he complained at her as she nearly pushed him off his feet. But Claude still scratched her head, making her purr and nuzzle against him again before finally following his orders.

Claude stood looking out over Derdriu as his wyvern looped high in the sky before diving back down toward the stables, taking time to listen to the sound of the waves lap against the shore on the edge of the city. He loved the smell and feel of the ocean air. There was always a sense of peace that settled over him whenever he returned to Fódlan like this. At least for a few brief precious moments Claude and Byleth could spend as just a couple in love without the cares of the world weighing on them. “Not that I’d ever give up on my dream, but sometimes a bit of peace is appreciated,” Claude said to himself as he turned away from the view of the city.

“All right then.” Claude clapped his hands together, the leather of his gloves softening the sound. “Show time.” He took measured steps, careful that each make as little noise as possible. Grasping the handle to the balcony door he turned painfully slowly, so eager to reach the treasure beyond, and yet not wishing to fail his self set challenge. 

The latch released, allowing Claude to push the door open. He was sure he was not breathing as he stepped into the bedchamber and began to close the door behind him. This was as far as he had ever gotten before. He could not mess this up now.

It took a full minute, but the door was finally closed, the latch catching again soundlessly thanks to Claude’s slow movements. The room remained quiet. He let out a soft sigh of relief, which was immediately followed by a flurry of activity as the figure on the bed leapt up. 

“Whoops.” 

Fire coalesced around Byleth’s fingers as she reached for the Sword of the Creator. Claude could see the fury in her face from the light of her magic, and even though her anger was directed at him he couldn’t help but feel some excitement. 

“At least I got in the room before I woke you up this ti-” Claude was cut off as Byleth, realizing the intruder was her husband, threw herself into his arms and cut him off with a desperate kiss. She wrapped her arms around his neck, her hands still warm from the fire she held a moment ago. As she ran her fingers through his hair, Claude moaned against her mouth, holding Byleth to him as if she would disappear if he let go. Goddess help him but holding her felt like coming home.

“You were supposed to return three days ago,” Byleth said accusingly as she pulled away. There was a pout on her face so subtle that only those close to her would have noticed.

Claude tried to follow her lips, sighing dejectedly when Byleth touched her forehead to his to cut off his motion. He wanted so badly to just keep showing her how much he had missed her, but it seemed he was going to be punished for his tardiness first. 

“I know, I’m sorry. Had to deal with a little political drama before I could leave Almyra.”

Byleth immediately pulled back so she could look him in the eyes. Claude caught a whine in his throat as her warmth was removed. “What happened?”

“I’ll tell you about it later, promise. It’s handled.” Claude reached out and brought her back into the circle of his arms. “But I don’t want to focus on that right now. I just want to focus on you.” His hands reached down to squeeze her hips, pulling  Byleth against him so she could feel so excited she had already made him.

“Oh? Is that the only reason you’re happy to see me?” The worry was gone from her voice, replaced by a teasing tone he heard only when they were alone. His hand slid back further, squeezing her ass. “And why should I give you what you want?”

“Because you love me.” Claude kissed the tip of Byleth’s nose. “And I’ve missed you so very much.” 

Byleth looked at him less than impressed, but there was a spark in her eyes. He loved the change in her expressions. They were always so subtle, but he had only to look into her eyes to know what she was actually feeling. Every time was like sharing a secret with her.

He couldn’t help himself. His hand moved from her backside to her neck, pulling her in close. He kissed her again, deeply, trying to convey just how much he had missed her. There was no desperation this time, he already had her in his arms. It was an attempt to make up for all the time he had to leave her, for all the time he could not spend kissing her like this. 

“I love you, By,” he whispered as he had to break the kiss so they both could breathe. Claude took her hand in his so that both their fingers trailed over one shoulder, brushing down the strap of her nightgown. Byleth reached up with her other hand to remove the other strap, allowing the nightgown to slide down her body. Claude’s breath caught as he took in the sight of her. She was so lovely. She was a goddess that deserved to be worshiped...literally. 

Byleth allowed him to continue directing her, moving their hands down between their bodies. She let a soft gasp escape her as he brushed over her chest, gently pinching a pink nipple. But he continued down, untying the laces of his trousers together. Her eager fingers began to take the lead, shoving the fabric aside. Claude moaned as she brushed against the tip of his cock. Byleth  grinned at him, stroking him slowly, teasingly. She knew how to take him apart, and he was so looking forward to it. “Goddess, I missed you like the sky misses the stars during the day.” All right, so he was feeling sappy, but she loved it.

His wife laughed softly, her eyes shining in the moonlight. “I missed you too, Claude.”

Claude kissed her again, briefly this time. “Bed.” He made to walk her back to the bed she had occupied only minutes before, but Byleth shoved him back against the glass of the balcony door.

“I did not say you could go anywhere.”

Claude blinked before a huge grin spread over his face a moment later. “Oh, this is going to be good.”

/

He woke to sunlight streaming in through the windows, warming his face. There was another warmth beside him, a wonderful warmth he had missed so much. Claude wrapped his arm around Byleth, pressing her close and kissing the top of her head.

“Still asleep, By?” he asked softly. He did not receive a response. He knew he would not.

“It’s only when I’m here you sleep like this,” he continued to murmur, brushing the hair out of her face. “You are so beautiful. And I am so grateful that you feel safe enough with me to sleep soundly. Get some rest for once, By. I’ll make sure Seteth doesn’t try to drag you to work. Not that I think he would try that again. Once he realized you were actually sleeping he seemed almost as happy as I was. You know you worry us a lot, my love? You drive yourself so hard, but you need to take care of yourself too.” Claude sighed deeply, rubbing small circles against her back. “So, I’ll be here for you, if this is what you need. I’ll always come back to you, By.”

“Like the stars come back to the sky at night?” 

Claude stared down at her, shaking his head as her lips turned up in a smile. “I-”

Byleth reached up, placing a finger on his lips to silence him. “Shh, stop talking so I can go back to sleep. You wouldn’t want Seteth to realize I was awake and drag me away, would you?”

“No,” Claude agreed. “No, I would not.”

He watched as her breathing evened out again, listening to the sound of her sleep. Almya and Fódlan would be waiting outside when they both finally got up, but for now there was just them. Claude let his eyes close and allowed himself to drift off, stilling holding Byleth close to his side.

[shay-iamiam]

Communication

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Pairings : Dom! Steve | 18+

Summary : Steve is gentle until he's not. You always push his buttons and it's about to time you had a reminder of what's waiting at home.

A/n: @great-neckpectations Had this amazing request that she actually thought I could write (somebody actually had faith in me lmao.) I hope I this justice. ( I'm gonna run away frim my phone now lmao. Hoping y'all don't this.)

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Self indulging fics Masterlist

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Three hours.

Not one phone call, not one text message. Not one post on any of your social media accounts. Three hours that Steve was frantically trying to find you.

All his texts went unanswered. All his calls forwarded straight to your voicemail. The last three hours of stress Steve felt slowly began to piss him off.  

Steve loved that you were independent. That's what drew him in like a month to a flame. Your ability to be carefree but also chew someone the fuck out if they stepped out of bonds with you. Your brattiness and your mouth. Your need to always run it was the cause & reason behind the majority of his hard ons.

But when it came to him being your dom the rules were set in stone.

Your brattiness and your mouth. Your need to always run it drove him wild. He wanted you to be a good girl and listen to Daddy's rule's. But at the center of your core you loved disobeying him just a little bit.

Steve was a patient man. He was always gentle with you. He never wanted to pressure or control you. Which was what currently was confusing him. Why would you up and disappear like this?

Steve managed to trace your phone to some hole in the wall club I'm Brooklyn. He mounted his bike and speed across the city to get to you.

The club wreaked of cheap booze and cigarettes. Steve hated bars and clubs you knew that so why would you purposely disappear to one.

Steve stalked his way into the bar. The dim lighting made it hard to see. The music was to loud the people where to wild. Every step he took deeper inside the bar only chipped away at his resolve little more.

Steve went up to the bar hoping someone working at the club recognized you.

"Yeah some guy just asked her danced. She's over there somewhere.” The bartender pointed to the dance floor where you were throwing it back on some dude.

Steve stomped over to where you we're letting some random guy touch your body. Steve only saw him touching what belonged to him.

You were suddenly turned back from your dancing only to see a very upset Steve standing in front of you.

"I'm not happy with you right now." Steve voice was low and steady. He was a little to calm. You knew you fucked up when he mentioned not being able to reach you.

"You didn't answer any of my calls and not one of my text's." Steve was fuming.

"You got a good reason why you didn't answer baby? Huh."

You didn't speak. You just stood there listening to the anger laced in his voice. You didn't know if you should be scare or horny. Actually you felt a mix between the two.

You knew how Steve felt about your safety. It wasn't that he wanted to control you. He just wanted  to protect you. Knowing that you were safe wherever you were always set his mind at ease.

Until you decide to purposely turn your phone off and leave without saying anything. That's where you screwed up.

"Where leaving now." With a tug on your hand Steve lead you right out of the little whole in the wall you made your residence in.

Steve placed your helmet on your head. Making sure the straps where secure enough before mounting his bike.

You held on tight as Steve zipped through the busy New York Traffic. He pulled his bike into the garage, mounting off the bike pulling you along with him to elevator. Steve punched the button waiting for the doors to close.

The ride up to your shared floor was quite. You knew you'd pissed Steve off. He hadn't said one word to you since he pulled off from the bar.

The door slammed roughly causing the photos littered amongst the walls to shake.  

You followed Steve back to your room. Steve sat on the end of the bed. He took his boots off placing then to the side. He knew your mind was racing trying to figure out what your punishment would be.

"Strip. The only thing I want to see on you is your painties" Steve pointed to a spot that he wanted you to stand in while you undressed.

You tried to turn your back to him. But he wasn't having it.

"No need to be shy now. You weren't shy in the bar earlier." Steve was growing more irritated by the second.

Once you removed your clothes you stood there watching Steve. His face was unreadable. You didn't know what your punishment would be.

It felt like forever had passed before Steve spoke to you. He started at you while you waited anxiously for his next command.

Steve spread his thighs, motioning you over to him. "Lay down. This is a  little reminder. So next time you don't forget what you have waiting at home." Steve hand came down hard on your ass. The smack of his hand jumped across the room.

You tried to hold in your yelp at the first hit. You didn't want Steve to think you where enjoying this even though you where.

"Don't be quiet now. Any other time your mouthing on." You whimperd when his hand came down on your ass again.

"Daddy's been real patient with you tonight. You didn't answer any of my phone calls *smack" or texts."  He growled.

"You didn't follow any of the rules. That's a big no no baby." Steve spread your legs looking down at your soaked core. He couldn't believe you where already this wet. Seeing you like that only drove him even further.

"And you were giving another man what only belongs to Daddy."  Steve sucked his teeth as he thought back on your behavior.

"I don't think so."

"How do you think that made daddy feel? Huh."  You where a mess tears began to gather in your eyes. Steve's hand was steady after every smack he would rub your tender skin. His voice was as taunting

"Answer me."

"It- it made you feel bad." You sobbed out over his lap. You were ready to burst just from his hand on your ass.

"Your right it did baby. Daddy didn't like seeing you letting someone else touch you."

"But you won't do that again will you baby? Answer daddy."  his voice was soft and gentle all of a sudden. Like he knew you wouldn't make that mistake again.

"No I won't. Never again. I'm yours. All of me is yours."  You cried out, spreading your legs further apart.

"Don't forget it."

"I think you learned your lesson." Steve laid back on pulling you along with him.

"Now be a good girl and get to work." He retorted.

Steve placed his hands behind his head. It drove you wild when you rode Steve. The way he looked at you made you feel like your skin was on fire. It was a reward after the roughness on your backside.

You were still sensitive from Steve's spanking. Your skin burned a little bit with every moment. You straddle Steve sitting down slowly across him.

Steve notice that you where a little sore. He made a mental note to rub you down with aloe vera after.

"Wanna see you wrecked while your riding Daddy's cock." Steve pinched your perk nipples. Your head flew back at the pinch of sensation.

You where already sensitive due to Steve's punishment if you rode him like you wanted to than this wouldn't last long. You placed your hands over Steve's chiseled chest. Laying the palms of your hands down you sunk down onto Steve's long girth.

When you bottomed out you and Steve moaned out in unison.

Steve was in a blissed out haze. He watched with hooded eyes as tried to control your breathing. You where already wrecked and all he did was smack your ass a couple of times.

You had your sub space and he was in his blissed out Dom space.

You picked up the pace. Rocking your body back and forth grinding down hard. The drag of Steve's cock inside you knocked the air from your lungs.

Steve's gentle side began to shine through. His rough exterior you previously saw melted away. The side of him that told you he loved when you rode him and how cute you looked when you came.

He looked at you like you hung the stars and moon in the sky. This was the side of Steve he only gave to you.

The rest of the world saw him as a man of strength and honor. He was those things but he also wanted someone to take care of him the same way he took care of you.

The only sound that could be heard was yours and Steve skin connecting as you bounced up and down of his cock.

"Fuc- fuck baby. Keep going." Steve pulled at your nipples.

"You love riding Daddy's cock don't you?" You could only nod your head quickly your voice was completely gone. You loved when Steve got like this. That only meant he was close to cumming.

"Are you close to baby? Daddy's ready to cum." He wrapped his hand around your hips thrusting up into you. Pulling you down harder on his hips.

"I'm- I'm ready daddy. Fuck I'm ready."

"Come on baby. Soak daddy than."  The way he commanded you to cum. Only made your orgasm stronger.

One moment you could hear Steve crying out and the next you heard nothing.

________

You woke up to a warm towel being rubbed between your legs.

"I brought some aloe to help with the soreness. Once I'm done cleaning you up I'll rub you down."

"You're too good to me. I'm sorry for running off like that. I just had a shit day."  

"It's okay Y/n. You just scared me there for a moment. I wanted to make sure you where good and you didn't answer."  Steve couldn't help but worry. He worried that you would wake up one day and realize you didn't want him.

You knew him like that back of your hand.

Steve was a worry wart as you liked to call him.

"You know I'm always good when I'm with you." You looked over at him. And Steve couldn't help but smile. He knew he was good when he was with you. And he hoped that would never change.

_______

Self indulging fics Masterlist

A/n: When you leave feedback my heart skips a beat. I die for a minute. But foreal I really love hearing from y'all! Anything y'all say even a gif makes my day.

[ohmeohmayohmy]

With the Slightest Smile, Chapter 2

Sorry, it took a little longer than expected, but here she is!

Taglist: @reedusteinrambles @amygummy

Note: There are probably some errors in this, my round of editing was rushed. The beginning of it might feel slow, but I promise this chapter is important for future reference. It’s not super eloquent, but the details needed to get across. Hopefully the fluffy Flashback!Brian x Reader makes up for it a little bit. Also, the photo is not mine, found on Pinterest.

Warnings: Again, just small amounts of language.

Words: 5.5k+

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July 10, 1973

The flight to London seemed longer than it normally was, but you assumed it was just the anticipation of the matter. It had been almost a year since you had been home for longer than a week, and this time you were actually moving back. The job you had in Helsinki was just the experience you needed as a new member of the workforce, but when you heard back that your application to the Great Ormond Street Hospital was accepted, you couldn’t pass it up. You became a nurse to help children, and this was your big chance.

Of course, in your line of work you didn’t have a lot of spare time, so keeping in touch with your friends and family back home became rather difficult: your budding star, a certain mister Brian May, proved to be the most elusive. At first, the distance was almost unnoticeable, calls were made often and letters exchanged at least once a week. But the phone eventually stopped ringing, and the letters circulated maybe once or twice a month. It pained you to recognize how you could feel him slipping away. You didn’t have this same problem with others, like your parents or Stella, and you always felt guilty that the person most important to you was falling by the wayside.

He wasn’t to blame, you were the one who stopped returning calls after a while. The fact that Brian wasn’t there with you became all the more prominent when you two were talking on the phone, so you decided it just seemed easier to not confront it. Real mature. When you had the opportunity to talk with him, however, he never gave the impression that he held any resentment, only pure happiness.

You felt ashamed that there were many big moments in his career that you had missed since leaving, but when you received the call about his band’s first album, you decided to leave a couple weeks earlier than originally planned so you could be in your rightful place, at his side. Much to your disappointment, Brian said he wouldn’t be able to pick you up from the airport because of some last minute album business, so Stella happily volunteered. This was some relief, at least it wasn’t your father.

“Ladies and gentlemen, it is our pleasure to welcome you to Heathrow Airport,” a chipper, feminine voice called from the com. You were taken out of your thoughts. Already?

* * *

“Y/N!” A tall, familiar woman called over a sea of travellers.

You waved your arms, trying your best not to get swept up in the chaos. Stella laughed as she made her way to you with ease, you figured it was easier to work a way through crowds when you towered over most of the people around you. Finally reaching her, you gathered Stella into your arms, thankful for her ability to ground you and make you feel safe. She squeezed you back before breaking away to lift your carryon over her shoulder.

She cocked her eyebrow, “Is this it?”

You shrugged. “Decent portion of it. I have a couple boxes coming, but I got rid of most things.”

Stella laughed again, her cadence hearty and warm. “Just don’t tell my mum you did away with that sweater she got you.” You gave her a knowing look, then joined her in laughter.

“So, how’re you?” You asked once you were clear of the mess of people.

Stella pushed her free hand through her beautiful hair. “‘M better knowing that you’re here.”

You admired her locks, smiling to yourself at the sight that she had begun to embrace its natural form. She always felt a little self conscious when you were in school, but you loved seeing her growth as a bold woman of industry.

“And how are you?”

“I’m better, too.”

It was true. The fact that you were once again in proximity to everything you came to appreciate more in your absence gave you some peace. And you felt that seeing Brian again would take away all the anguish of being apart, knowing this time you wouldn’t have to leave just after arriving.

Stella noticed the secret smile on your face as she took out the key to her minty green Volkswagen Beetle.

“Sorry I’m not lover boy,” she teased.

You turned to her, your face betraying your embarrassment to her. She looked at you as she carefully put your duffel bag in the trunk, then winked as she slammed the top down.

“I- I don’t know to whom you are referring,” you protested with excessive diction. It was your tell, and Stella knew it. It’s not that you felt that way about Brian, it was more the suggestion that everyone thought something was going on. Which there isn’t.

“Oh, of course not.” She lightly joked, but she knew it was a sensitive topic and didn’t want to press you too hard upon your first half hour of being home. Maybe in the next day or so, but you were tired and not likely a good sport about such things.

You smiled at her, showing there were no hard feelings over her insinuations, and hopped into the passenger seat. Since you were accustomed to Finland’s driving rules, it had taken you a moment to determine your designated side, but in real time there was only a second or two of delay.

Stella began to back out of her parking spot. “Excited to be back in that old apartment?” She inquired.

Oddly enough, you were.

“Mmhmm.”

“You know you can live with me, right? No offence to our dear Brian, but that place is shit. Not even fit for that little goblin mate of his.”

You let out a snort. Stella hated Roger with what seemed a burning passion. But she had a point.

After you left, he planned to move in to your room, but after one weekend, he decided it best to move in with their other friend, Freddie. Brian didn’t mind, he didn’t like the idea of someone else living in your room. He never told you that, just in case you might come back. Fortunately for him, the rent wasn’t very high so he could afford it by himself after he put in a few more hours of work a week.

“Thank you, Elle, but I am perfectly fine with it.”

“You’re fine with having a rockstar for a roommate? What about all those girls he brings home? You’re gonna have some awfully long nights.” Her tone wasn’t playful anymore, and veered towards accusatory.

You rolled your eyes.

“Brian’s more respectful than that.”

“Of women? Or of you?”

You shot her a dirty look. While you normally enjoyed Stella’s brashness, the implications of her questions made you uncomfortable and defensive of Brian.

She met your gaze and was taken aback at the hurt expression scrawled across your face. “You know I’m protective, ’m sorry. Brian’s great, I didn’t mean to insult him.”

The words stung a little bit, but what hurt more was that you were sure there was some truth behind it. You just never let it cross your mind, not wanting to lose that image of Brian, sweet Brian, you held so dearly. But there was some weight to her words, you both knew it.

Trying to lighten the mood, Stella turned up the radio. It was playing “My Girl”, and as she was belting out the lyrics, you were transported.

--May 19, 1965--

The teacher dismissed your class right on time, and though you were usually one of the last students to leave the classroom because you liked to put your things away neatly in your bookbag, you found yourself rushing out the door almost instantaneously. You felt bad, thinking it unfair and rude to Ms. Moffett, but you had places to be. Somehow you’d manage to make it up to her.

Running down the steps outside as you finished slinging the straps around your shoulders, you saw Brian’s tall figure already waiting for you on the grass. He had his acoustic guitar resting its body on the ground while he supported the head with his right hand. In his left, he held a small bunch of flowers, and on his face, he had the biggest smile as he watched you approach. You basically ran into his arms, which he braced for by gently setting the instrument on the ground as you had been quickly getting closer. The moment of impact, Brian wrapped his arms around your waist and twirled you around in the air a few times, you giggled and told him to let you down, but claimed he was only stopping because of his own dizziness. Once you were firmly standing, he handed you the bouquet. He didn’t let on that he had already felt dizzy when he first touched you, before the spinning. Because of you, he felt hopelessly toppled.

“They’re beautiful, Bri.” You kissed his cheek as he attempted to find his bearings.

“There’s more to come, love,” he said, slightly out of breath. You groaned as he pulled you into another embrace.

Every year, you gave vocal protestations about him going out of his way to celebrate your birthday, but you secretly loved the fuss he made. It wasn’t the gifts or the attention, but the time Brian obviously put into it and his willingness to make you feel special.

Behind you, you heard a few girls chattering shrilly among themselves. Turning around, you saw some classmates from literature whispering to each other, looking up at you and Brian periodically. Your face heated and you pushed his arms off of you. Normally you wouldn’t mind that he was being affectionate, but you didn’t want anyone at school getting the wrong ideas. You wanted them to know as little as possible about you.

Brian frowned when he noticed your embarrassment.

“We should go,” you muttered.

He nodded, picked up his guitar, and draped his arm around your shoulder. You shrugged him off as you walked away from the school. The girls laughed.

* * *

The afternoon passed calmly, the pair of you sitting in your garden, which was thriving in bloom. You loved the smell of springtime, and loved even more that your mother wasn’t barging into these private moments with Brian.

Looking over at him enjoying one of the sandwiches you made together, you felt immense appreciation for your best friend. You studied the serenity in his smile, his eyes twinkling as he sat quietly, with an appearance of having a conversation with himself. His nose crinkled in thought, lost in the moment. And you were lost just observing him.

The focus was shattered as your mother opened the door and peered out at you. You and Brian, startled, looked up at her with surprise. She smiled at the sight.

“Would you kids come in for a moment?”

Shuffling, the pair of you got up and entered the house, following your mother into the living room where your father was waiting by the coffee table. On it, there was a single box wrapped in pastel blue paper and accented with a silver bow. Your mother joined you father and snaked one of her arms around his waist, and he pulled her closer as she put her other hand on his chest. They look so in love.

“Happy birthday, darling!” Your father extended his open arm out to the side. You walked over to them and kissed each of them on the cheek.

“Thank you.”

“You haven’t even opened it yet,” your mother chirped.

You let out a gentle chuckle, humoring her.

Bending down, you lifted the box into your arms. Carefully, you removed the ribbon and tore the wrapping to reveal a brand new camera. You practically squealed then looked at it in joy, unable to say anything. Your parents beamed, and Brian was entranced by your expression.

“Thank you!” Your enthusiasm in the phrase much higher this time. They all laughed.

* * *

“Strike a pose, darling!”

Bashful, Brian crossed his arms, attempting to look cool. It didn’t work, your silliness forced a smile to break across his slender face.

“Beautiful, Mr. May!”

Your photoshoot was taking place on the stairs outside of the municipal library, people would stop to look at the two teenagers laughing at each other. Brian looked a bit uneasy, blushing.

You didn’t mind the passersby, but you thought maybe Brian’s timidity was because of the spectators. He didn’t notice them, his eyes never left you.

He just couldn’t get over you calling him beautiful.

Setting your camera down cautiously, you sat on the bottom step and picked up the guitar Brian brought with him. You couldn’t really play, perhaps a few chords that you had seen him do.

He came down the stairs and dropped next to you, watching your fingers move clumsily from C to F chords repeatedly in good humor. You smiled at him as he bobbed his head to the beat you were forming, singing nonsense syllables as if it were a well-known song, slightly wincing each time your F chord buzzed. Fuck barre chords.

As if he could hear what you were thinking, Brian snorted as he gently took the guitar out of your hands. You gave him a look to show you were pleased and began to clap your hands like his own personal fan girl. He blushed again.

“Haha, thank you, dear devoted fans,” Brian said sarcastically. “I’d like to dedicate this one to the birthday girl sitting beside me.” He grinned and you reciprocated.

“Birthday woman.” You playfully corrected him.

“’M sorry I didn’t really get you anything this year,” he spoke quietly, shifting his gaze down to his right hand as it got in strumming position.

“Don’t apologize, Bri. You spoil me rotten every other day of the year.” You lightly tapped then stroked his arm, smiling with comfort in your eyes. When he met them, Brian swore he could’ve gotten lost in them forever.

“You could never be rotten,” he replied. Once hearing what he said, Brian grimaced at the corniness in his words, hanging his head. It only made your smile widen.

“Oh, you’re so sweet,” you said, poking fun. You paused to ponder for a moment. “You’re like some kind of cheese.”

“Like what?!”

“Y’know, like sometimes you get cheesy when you’re being sweet. So, you’re a cheese.” Your explanation only made poor Brian more confused, but he loved it nonetheless. It was a unique compliment, one that you deemed him worthy of.

You laughed as you put your head in the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent without meaning to. Earthy. Kind of like sage. It was comforting. You felt yourself zoning out more deeply and knew you had to rein back in. You didn’t want to make him feel uncomfortable by overstaying the moment, so you lifted your head up to meet his eyes.

“If you’re going to play something, you’d better perform it! It’s my birthday, and I want to be dazzled.”

Brian sighed, but he couldn’t contain his happiness. Being there with you in such a close proximity, despite the public setting, made him feel you were the only two people in the world.

“I have been working on something for you,” he murmured, shying away.

You used your index finger to turn his head back to facing you, encouraging him.

“You should play it from that pedestal,” you motioned to the center of the stairs, where a little pillar shaped piece (that wasn’t supporting anything) was located.

“Don’t have my strap.”

“Then play sitting down,” you suggested.

Brian obliged, getting up from the base of the series of steps and moving to the pedestal, folding his legs in front of him to support the guitar. You stood up to face him.

Softly clearing his throat, Brian shot you a nervous smile. You nodded, reinforcing your encouragement. Suddenly you gasped, and he looked at you with concern. You walked over to grab your camera and returned to your position in front of him. He couldn’t help but flash a toothy smile, which you captured with a snap shot.

He began to pick and strum.

When you recognized the song, you almost teared up, but you hid it behind your new camera as you leaned in for another shot.

Brian May was serenading you with “My Girl”.

--1973--

Stella’s rendition had ended long ago during your fog, but her turning off the car took you out of it. She smirked at your jumpiness. “We’re here, babe.”

You stared up at her, not fully comprehending what she had said. She could tell.

“Arrived.” She pointed to the building before you.

Your mouth formed into an exaggerated O, then you opened your door.

“Thank god.” It was good to be home.

Stella shook her head playfully and unlocked the trunk.

“I’ve got it,” you started to move towards it. She dismissed you with her hand.

“Nah, I can handle it.” Stella flexed her very toned bicep, causing you to chortle into your hand. You missed her.

“I guess it’s good I kept the key,” you said, referring to Brian’s business, and thus his absence. She didn’t respond, but you didn’t notice. Your breath was taken away as you studied the apartment complex. It was the same old shabby building you had left, but somehow it was a sight for sore eyes. Perhaps it was the implication that you were back for good. Or perhaps it was a certain resident you’d grown quite fond of. Who’s to say?

“Shall we?” Stella spoke warmly, holding out her hand. You took it and she squeezed.

“We shall.”

You breathed deeply together as you approached the door.

The hallway was just as narrow as you remembered, but the wood had been covered up by some atrocious yellow carpeting. It smelled the same, and the walls were still peeling the same watery paint color. The stairwell seemed more steep and compact than you thought, but each step you took got you closer to your place. Your room. Your best friend. It was more emotional to return home than it was to leave Finland.

You were beside yourself, hands slightly shaking as you raised your keys to the lock. For once, it didn’t jam and you were let into the apartment with minimal struggle.

The living room looked close to spotless, and you knew Brian must’ve driven himself insane with that much cleaning.

But it was for you. It was all for you.

You just didn’t think of it that way; it was a kind gesture to you.

It was a small confession of love to him.

Tossing your purse and keys onto the counter, you told Stella she could put the bag in your room. She set it down and insisted you do it, rubbing her shoulder. You knew she wasn’t actually in pain, but you also felt bad that you let carry it thus far, so you slung it over your shoulder, shifting your body back a little more than you would care to admit.

You opened the door, and were struck with awe. It was like you never left, except the small bouquet of flowers set on top of a new quilt. You picked up the posy and its accompanying note.

Sorry I couldn’t pick you up. -Bri.

You smiled. He was always so thoughtful.

Setting down the flowers and kicking your shoes off, you removed the light jacket you had on. You weren’t cold, you wanted to keep the germs of airports off of you as best you could. Of course, a shower was still needed, but the urge wasn’t as immediate as it could’ve been.

“Would you like some tea, Elle?” You called to your friend behind the door. She didn’t respond.

“Elle?”

When no reply came the second time, you let out a small huff and opened out into the hallway.

You shuffled down to the living room, and once you turned the corner, a small group of people were awaiting you. Unexpecting this, you let out a quick scream but it didn’t last long as you were enveloped into a hug by Freddie.

“Welcome home, darling,” he cheered as the others around you laughed and clapped. He kissed you on the cheek, and you returned the affection.

This was followed by Roger practically tackling you and rocking back and forth, and John wrapping his arms around you with firm gentleness, placing a tentative peck on your cheek as he pulled away.

“Missed you, boys,” you beamed. It had been too long since you saw them, and while your comment had been sincere, you were distracted. Your eyes searched the space for your best friend, desperate to hold him.

As they chimed in with their various responses, you felt a tap on your shoulder. You spun around, and Brian grinned down on you, quickly locking you in an embrace. Despite the nearly suffocating grip he had on you, being in his arms again felt like a breath of fresh air. Neither of you wanted it to end, so you stood holding onto each other for what seemed like too little time, but was more than enough for everyone else to watch. Freddie coughed gently, and you got the hint. This caused you and Brian to break apart.

“Oh god, I missed you,” you sighed contentedly.

“I missed you too, love.”

Another fleeting moment passed as you admired each other’s familiar features. It was like the last five years of distance never happened.

Stella laughed, interrupting the moment, as Roger came from the kitchen grasping a bottle of champagne. You turned to see the source of the commotion, and grinned at their peaceful interaction. Freddie followed in suit holding several champagne flutes, three in each hand, and passed them to everyone.

“I’d like to raise a toast,” Roger exclaimed as he poured the last drink, his own. “To Y/N, our very own nursing extraordinaire. The hospital is lucky to have you, but we are the luckiest.”

“Hear, hear!” Freddie loved toasts, and made sure to clink his cup with everyone’s in the spirit of things.

As the glasses were lifted, Brian snaked his arm around you, and you all sipped with joy. You looked up at Brian, knowing the night was only getting started, and though you had been exhausted by travel, you felt a new surge of energy in his presence.

_______________

July 13

You were rudely awoken by the shrill buzzing of your alarm clock, at which you groaned. You hadn’t started work yet, since you came back early, so this alarm was self-imposed. The night before, Brian suggested that the two of you go to breakfast before the day got hectic. Since neither of you were exactly morning people, you decided it best to aim for brunch instead.

Shaking yourself from the grogginess you felt, you got out of bed and changed into a bathrobe. It was only 10 o’clock, so you had no rush.

Walking to the bathroom, you noticed the door was closed but you didn’t hear the water running, so you assumed Brian closed it after he had gotten ready for bed. It didn’t occur to you that he was already finished and was just coming out of the bathroom at that precise moment. You opened the door and instantly wished that it had occurred to you. He looked up at you in surprise as he let out an “Oi!” as you slapped your hand over your eyes. He laughed hoarsely, his voice still rough from sleep.

“Ah, ’s alright, Y/N. I’m decent.”

You removed your hand and involuntarily looked down his wet, bare torso with your eyes landing on the small white towel wrapped around his slim hips. You blushed, snapping your eyes back to his face, hoping he hadn’t seen your accidental ogling.

Brian saw it and felt embarrassed, even though he knew you’d seen him like this before, not wanting you to feel bad. Especially since he didn’t mind the way you looked so hypnotized by the sight of him. He just wished it had been a better moment, one where he wasn’t quite as exposed. Or maybe more so. He shook his head to rid himself of that thought. He didn’t want to cause more awkwardness with any sudden...uprising.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know,” you started but didn’t quite know where it was going, so you ceased speaking. You gulped.

“Don’t worry about it, love.” Brian smiled, trying to make light of the situation. He moved by you, allowing you access to the bathroom.

“I didn’t mean to look at you,” you said in a barely perceptible whisper.

He pretended he didn’t hear you, wanting the moment to pass. As he walked through his door, he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and smiled at the thought of you admiring him.

You didn’t see that, as you had shut your eyes with the pain of embarrassment you were feeling once you stepped into the bathroom. Stupidstupidstupid.

* * *

“Ready?” Brian called from the kitchen.

“Just a minute!” You responded, trying to find your left shoe. Picking up every article of clothing strewn on the floor, you finally found it hidden underneath your sweatpants. After slipping it on, you stepped out into the hallway. “Okay.”

Brian jingled his keys as you approached him.

When you looked at him, you felt another wave of shame rise up inside you, but you tried to not let your face betray you. It did, but Brian graciously did not acknowledge it.

You walked out of the apartment and rushed down the staircase, leaving you both a little more winded than you should have been.

He opened your door for you with a smile and closed it gently once you were seated, then jogged over to his own side. After putting his car in reverse to back out, he sped into the street, something unusual for the most stringent driver you knew.

“Everything alright?” You asked.

Brian briefly turned his head to look at you, “Yeah.” He returned his eyes to the road.

You reached for the radio but he beat you to it, turning it up and tuning in to the station he desired.

“Did I do something?” Is he upset about earlier?

“No, never. ’M only a little nervous for today.”

Of course. You were sure that the awkward moment between you was not the most important thing on his mind. He’s releasing a record, for god’s sake.

You put your hand on his leg and brushed your thumb against it, meant to soothe. It only seemed to set him more on edge. He wasn’t used to you touching him like that, and the intimate gesture made him more nervous. You thought it was because he didn’t like it.

Au contraire.

“I am certain ’t will be a success.”

“Oh,” he frowned, understanding your train of thought. “I meant the release party.”

That makes more sense.

“Well, I’m sure that will be a success too!” You gave a small, breathy laugh.

“It’s not the crowds that bother me, ’s rather the strangers who just won’t get out of your face with their questions that really get me flustered.” His voice lowered in volume. “Especially the girls.”

Finally, you felt you understood Brian’s jitters.

He refused to move his focus from the road and shifted his right leg, keeping his left in place.

You realized you hadn’t moved your hand. You pulled it away with a jolt. He almost released a whine from the loss of you.

“There’s nothing to be nervous about, Bri. You’re beautiful.”

That was not what he meant. He wanted to correct you, tell you he didn’t want that. Not tonight. Not when you would be there.

“You can get any woman you want.” You had no idea the stress your words were putting him under. He was near bursting, choking down what he had to say.

Though it had been years since you moved away, Brian carried that flame in him. That’s not to say that he hadn’t been with girls in the past five years, but they weren’t you. They never compared to you.

“And if you don’t,” you smiled, reaching for the hand on his lap, “you always have me.”

God, how he wanted to have you.

“Well, I’d hope so,” he managed to say. “Can’t be losing my best girl.”

The next few minutes of the drive to Beat-Nick’s were more light-hearted. You joked about Roger’s ridiculously patterned trousers and Freddie’s suggestion of a pre-release party that everyone else vetoed. Brian’s laugh sweet music to your ears. You missed times like this.

Before you knew it, the car was parked a little way down the block from the cafe.

A warm summer breeze swam through the air and passed you as you walked, rustling through your hair. Brian’s curls were jostled, but you could hardly tell. His hair looked magnificent in the wind. You had to resist the urge to touch it.

“After you,” he spoke softly, gesturing through the door.

You smiled and stepped through.

The cafe looked as though nothing had changed. The furniture was arranged in the same layout, the lights still twinkled with warmth. It was wonderful.

You flopped down on one of the paisley-covered couches and Brian joined you. Both of you sat unmoving for a moment, enjoying the space. It wasn’t very busy, but the atmosphere still bustled with summertime joy.

Brian struggled to get up, and as you began to rise, he gently pushed you back into the seat.

“I’ll get it.”

You hated it when he insisted on paying, but you knew it wasn’t a fight you would win today.

Within two minutes, he was back in his spot next to you.

“I’m sorry,” you said.

He looked at you with bewilderment.

“About this morning.”

“Oh, that...”

“I didn’t realize you would be in there, half naked-”

You cut yourself short as a waitress came to your seating area and set the tray of drinks down in front of the couch. Her eyes widened upon accidentally hearing the conversation, and you looked at her apologetically before thanking her for bringing the beverages to you. She nodded, and walked away without a word.

“Don’t worry about it, Y/N. ’S already forgotten.”

Brian didn’t think he could forget it. The way you studied him. It made him feel good. It made him feel beautiful. He had never believed you when you said it before.

You gave him a grateful grin as you took a sip from your tea.

Even though it was summer, you got the standard lavender chamomile brew. Warm tea would always be superior in your mind, and you appreciated that Brian knew that without you needing to say so.

“I suppose the boys are excited for this evening?”

“Well, Fred and Roger more so than Deaky.”

“Poor John, always hated the large party scene. And now, he’s gotta be in the center of it.”

Brian took a drink of the fruit smoothie he ordered. “He’ll be fine, just give him a couple beers and he’ll be dancing like no one’s watching.”

“Or like he’s playing and everyone’s watching.” You smirked. You loved watching John onstage. He was entertaining.

Brian was mesmerizing.

“Fair point.”

* * *

“What about this one?”

You twirled around in front of Brian in a knee-length, flowy dress. The rosy color complemented your skin quite nicely, and accentuated your curves well without being immodest.

“There’s a small-” He flitted his finger midair. You weren’t understanding until you looked to where he was focused. A tear.

“Christ! This is one of my favorites,” you huffed. “Might as well wear a garbage bag if none of them are going to work.”

“I’m sure there’s something,” Brian said kindly.

He’s being very patient.

“Be my guest,” you motioned to your closet.

He moved towards it in two bounds and began to gingerly sift through your clothes. He felt a sense of shame as he rifled through them, smelling your scent embedded in the fibers. Finally, Brian found a black dress. His favorite.

He offered it to you and you took it, shooing him out of the way so you could change.

“Don’t leave, ’m going to need your help zipping it.”

He breathed shallowly, averting his eyes so as not to invade your privacy. He didn’t want to be creepy.

As you pulled up the tighter bodice, you took off your bra, knowing there was no way it would work if you wore it. You flung it over your shoulder, not thinking. It landed next to Brian, who was perched on the far side of your bed. He jumped up out of shock, which startled you. You turned around (fully covered) in worry. Upon noticing what happened, you began to laugh.

“What’s so funny?”

“Does the bra scare you, Brian?”

“No! I just, I wasn’t expecting it. Came out of nowhere!”

“Well, not nowhere,” you giggled. “Now, will you zip me up?”

He lightly approached you and guided the zipper up the curve of your back, the fabric hugging your figure perfectly. Once the task was completed, he plunged back onto the mattress. You gave him another twirl, ending in a curtsy and another laugh.

Brian was breathless.

“I guess we have a winner.”

[rwbyremnants]

WARNINGS: BLACK SUN CONTENT. Also, lap-sitting, cunnilingus, tickling, pet play, in-depth kink discussions. Plus this is kind of a short chapter.

Note: Sorry for all the delays! I'm going to try to post more regularly next month I swear, just busy writing and editing this month. Hope you guys are still into it!

=Chapter 6

Two orgasms were enough. When the moans subsided, Winter brought Glynda’s hips to a stop and kissed her throat on either side, then breathed against her skin, "Are you ready to end play fully, Snowmare?"

Still shuddering from the sheer intensity of the finish, the older blonde slowly nodded, squeezing her shoulder a short moment to try and hold her support. Until at last, she whispered, "End play."

“Alright.” When Winter drew back, her face was casual, but her businesslike questions had an undercurrent of need. "Are you okay? Do you need to get off me quickly, or to have any of the cuffs taken off? Otherwise, you can rest here for a minute."

Panting still, she found herself lightly straining against the binds on her ankles. That was her greater need by far, to be free to move however she wanted. Licking her lips, she asked, "The restraints please. Then I can… clean up the mess."

"Hmm… alright, but only if you can bring them back up here. It's a little hard with this thing still inside you." Then she grinned wickedly. "Not that you have to take it out right away… I know sometimes I like to let it linger."

Nodding again, she leant right forward against Winter, pressing their chests right up against one another so she could bring her feet back in her direction for her to work with. But each move was sending little aftershocks of pleasure through her. Some which she didn't want to stop, even after play. But alas, it couldn't linger all day.

Not when Qrow was growing more and more impatient by the minute. His hand had ended up covering the crotch area, attempting to keep it down and not too obvious. But it was just making it worse.

"There," Winter sighed as she finally undid both clamps. She had thought about only doing the one, but didn't want Glynda to accidentally step on or trip over the dangling hazard when she got up. Then she settled back a little more comfortably, grazing her hands up and down her back.

"So. Now you've had your fun; I know you'd been wanting to do this again for a long time. Was it everything you hoped for, or did I let you down?"

"Oh you were more than satisfactory," she agreed, still not having shifted from her position on the member just yet. Still gaining her breath, she held her shoulder. "You were fantastic. I mean, I was uncertain, with Qrow being in the room, but no, it was wonderful. You probably ride him pretty hard."

"…Wait, what?" Qrow asked, only just snapping out his lust filled daze. The erection was still as present as ever, still quite obviously there for both Glynda and Winter to see. "You think I'm the sub? Really?"

"I would," Winter chuckled, smiling warmly over at the clearly horny man. "And we might try it sometime eventually, but for now, he's my Dom, actually. I'm alright being a switch, and could never go full-sub, but you must have heard by now that my preference is the bottom."

"Oh, I have. I just assumed… Look, I thought you and I were both on the same page with him – thinking he’s a boor. My thinking was, if you felt that way about him, you'd much rather put him in his place than the other way around." When she finally found the bravery to get up and off the member below her, she let out a long groan as she rose to her feet before adding, "Besides, he… doesn't seem like someone who could Dom very effectively to me."

"Oh really?" Qrow asked. Thankfully, the fully erect length was coming to an advantage this time. They were still in the room, still out of people's view. He was on enough grounds to make the following challenge: "A drink says I can, right here, right now, Dom the hell outta Snowbird."

"As if Glynda wants to see a male Dom, anyway," Winter chuckled, standing up to slide the strap-on down her legs. "Would you like to get a condom out and see to business? Unless you're really serious about this bet of yours."

"Oh please,” Glynda snorted. “I'd much rather buy a drink than win one so easily. But I suppose your confidence is admirable."

Rolling his eyes in response to that, he ignored her while she began to pack everything away again, including the anklets and wrist cuffs. Although when Winter asked about the condom, he tilted his head. "Wait… even before she leaves the room? Can we do that?"

Nodding at the drawn shade over the window, Winter nipped a napkin out of he bag and did her best to wipe Glynda's essence off the dong. "Well, strictly speaking, we're not supposed to have actual sex in these rooms, but… it's essentially an understanding. If they don't know about it, they can't be held responsible. If you’re asking if we can fuck in front of Glynda…" Her shoulder raised and lowered. "Performance anxiety?"

"So it's a case of 'if someone catches you it ain't the club’s fault', then? Right." But in truth, he had meant the latter. Would she allow them to even do such a thing? Glynda didn't want him involved with her, but this was different. This was just he and Winter scening on their own. But the erect member spoke volumes. He needed to do something soon. And if Winter was offering, now was a better time than any. Reaching into his wallet to pull out a condom packet, he smirked.

"Lemme get your seat ready, then."

"Ooh," Winter cooed with a grin, crossing her legs. Then she looked over to their third party. "Oh, and if you want to watch, you're more than welcome, but… I'll understand if you'd rather not. I just need to get off after all that fun with you."

"Oh, I might take a peek while I tidy all this up." It was so matter-of-fact with her. Collecting all the toys and straps, she was distracted enough.

Distracted enough to not mind when Qrow pushed down both his trousers and his underwear, holding himself erect and ready for Winter to work herself on it. The need for her far outweighed his need to dominate, but that didn't stop him from at least sparing the taunt as he held his member still.

"Sit down, Your Highness."

Lucky for both of them, there was nothing covering the most intimate part of her; just straps on either side. Grinning wickedly, she threw one leg up and over, then began to grind said straps up against his length. "I can't yet," she teased. "My seat isn't shrinkwrapped."

In his haste, he had forgotten the most simple step! Groaning outwardly, he quickly tore the condom wrapper apart, tossing the remains aside as he tried to reach around her to sort business. However, that was giving him an idea.

"Y'know what, Princess?" he asked, lifting the hand with the condom up so she could take it from him. "I think you should face away from me and sit on me that way. Face the one who you just Dommed so she can watch her royal highness get fucked silly."

"You know what I say to that idea?" Grinning, she stood and turned around while he slid the condom on, but before she sat down, she pressed her hindquarters in toward his face. "Kiss my ass."

"God, you disgusting straights," Glynda rolled her eyes and uttered, still mostly minding her own business.

Even when Qrow merely grinned at the display. Not too long ago, he had that ass filled with all sorts of goodies. If only he could do that again to assert his authority. But not wanting to disappoint, he did lean in, and pressed a kiss on one of the cheeks.

"Thank you," Winter told him in a voice that was clearly pleased that he capitulated. Immediately afterward, she slowly began to lower her hips. "Ready for me?" She didn't even have to inform him that she was definitely ready; the moisture glistening between the leather straps did that all on its own.

He was indeed ready. In fact, so much so, he decided to take matters into his own hands. Even if he hadn't made the bet with Glynda, that didn't stop him from trying to act more dominant toward Winter. Holding both of her hips for himself, he was already pulling her down onto his thick member, sighing in satisfaction now that they were finally getting off.

"O-ohhhhh," she moaned out, feeling the thickness edge inside her. Every inch of her flesh cried out in joy that it was finally getting the attention it had been demanding for almost an hour. "Oh yes… that's so good! Make Princess feel good!"

"Oh, you bet," he growled. Not even allowing her time to properly settle, he was already starting to push her more firmly against him, forcing his cock all the way inside. And then he pulled out again, and then back in, settling into a fast pace to match their mood and need for it.

And gradually, as she zipped up the bag, Glynda began to look over and watch. Even after getting off twice, the show was certainly making her cheeks glow. Meanwhile, Winter was putting on the show that Glynda truly desired. Back arched, hips bouncing up and down, and spikes gleaming in the low lighting, she was the picture of control over herself, even in giving that control to another. A power bottom on top.

But would she be for long? It might well have been what Glynda wanted to see, but Qrow had ideas that would show him as the more obvious Dom between them. Even if the bet wasn't on, he was determined to win.

Looping a hand around her stomach, and then another up to the back of her head to pull her hair back, he held her firmly still. That was until he was suddenly rising up with his thrusts. Each time penetrating harder, building up more speed than before. Enough to make his heart race – and perhaps secondhandedly, Glynda's.

"AHHH!!!" Winter screamed out as her head was jerked back, exposing more of her elegant neck, removing all shadows from her bouncing breasts as she watched Glynda watching her. Even though this had not been her original intention, not entirely… it was a bizarrely satisfying fringe benefit. Having someone else watch her get soundly fucked was such a turn-on that she felt her climax already nearing.

"Look at that, Winter." He was beginning to tease all the more, continuing to pump his member up inside, even as he felt it throbbing. Even though her name was said, it was also a show for their audience. Of whom he noticed was still watching intently. "You might be able to Dom somebody else, but you'll always be the same thing…"

The hand left her stomach and instead headed between her legs, spreading her apart so he could get that bit deeper. Even by a few centimetres or two, it all counted. Finally, he whispered right in her ear huskily, "My, little, cumslut."

Such a word was the only thing needed to tip her over the edge, get her screaming and writhing on top of his lap as she contracted around him, shivering with each pulse of her inner tissue. Oh, how glorious! She could feel her body trying to milk him for all he was worth. She wanted it to last forever.

Not that it would. As her muscles clamped on his thick member, he found himself gritting his teeth, grunting rather loudly whilst it throbbed hard, releasing more seed into the latex. Yet again, he'd dominated sweet Winter, to the point of both of their orgasms. This time, in the audience of another. Holding her there for a short moment, he eventually slumped back against the wall, sighing deeply to try and regain his breath. After being turned on for such a long while, climaxing granted him intense relief.

Feeling the man slide free when his member softened, Winter shivered but did not otherwise budge. She needed a moment to catch her breath, as well. But either way, she was beyond satisfied; how was it he managed to make her feel so scandalously good every single time they fucked?

Then she spotted Glynda blushing and undressed, and arched an eyebrow. "Want to come sit on our laps for a third? I mean, wow, are you insatiable…"

"No, thank you." She immediately cleared her throat, looking away from them both to focus back on her bag again, and stocking everything inside. But it was fairly obvious she was affected by the show.

"She liked watching," Qrow smirked, letting her go and holding her hips instead, still panting.

"Well… I liked watching her. Not you." But her protests weren't doing anything to erase her flaming cheeks.

"Glynda… come here." When Glynda put her hands on her hips, Winter laughed. "It's not an order, just a request; we did end play." When she walked over, eyeing Qrow warily but still doing as he was bade, Winter took both of her hands and began swinging them from side to side. "If you need me to get you again, just say the word. I don't want to leave here with you unsatisfied."

At that question, Glynda smiled shyly and dipped her head. "No… no, I don't think that will be necessary, thank you. I mean… I want it, but you and he have already finished, so I don't want to be greedy."

"That seems to be a sub trait, huh? I usually end up getting Winter twice before I finish myself off." Qrow's unneeded opinion was pitched in, which earnt him a glare from Glynda once more. Not that he cared. He simply patted Winter's thighs, just as a small reminder of who she was still on top of. "C'mon, lemme put it away."

But instead, she leaned far forward and down, kissing the smoothly shaven skin above Glynda's sex. Immediately, the woman sighed with ill-suppressed need, but then she took a step backward. "N-no, don't tease me further. That's unacceptable if I'm-"

"Nothing complicated," Winter cut across her, sliding out of Qrow's lap and onto her knees as she pressed her lips into Glynda's. The elder woman shivered and windmilled her arms briefly before her hands fell to the top of her Dom's head, quivering all over as she weathered the sudden, frantic attentions. "Just some quick head. I wasn’t going to start another scene and I still do not intend to."

Now that Winter was distracted, Qrow began tucking himself back into his underwear and pants, buckling his belt again. But then his focus turned back to the ladies. Although he wanted to stare and watch their third round for the evening, he himself was still exhausted. He knew while the two could probably continue all night if he wanted, he couldn't. And watching the both of them wasn't going to do him much good in keeping to that personal promise.

Standing up, he clapped his hands, heading toward the door. "Well, I'll let you two ladies have fun. I'm gonna just… You know, browse a while."

"You do that," Winter panted in between her tongue's hungry motions. As he opened it to leave, she was already half-throwing Glynda onto the bench to continue their activities, and Glynda wasn't complaining a bit. There was no distracting them. Silently nodding, he left the two of them to their play, closing the door firmly behind him.

The occupied sign was still illuminated, and the cover was still drawn. Perfect; their privacy was secure. Perhaps he didn't fancy watching Winter and Glynda one more time, even if it was still appealing, but maybe he could satisfy his curiosity. What other activities were going on in the rooms? That's what the cover was for, right? To make viewing optional if people wanted to see?

With that thought in mind, he wandered down the corridor, looking at the various doors available. Most were vacant, but it was a weekday. Chances were they'd be completely booked out come the weekend. Although there were a few rooms at the end were also occupied. Two of them also had their visors closed; it seeming like a common occurrence this evening. But at the far end, there was one more room which had its visor open. Taking the opportunity, he spied inside…

And saw a black-haired beauty towering over a blonde man, tied to a rack, spread eagle. She was wearing fishnet stockings and a leather bustier, and high-heeled black boots with stiletto heels. In one hand was a feather, and in the other, a cat-o-nine-tails. As Qrow looked on, she bent slowly down to glide said feather over the inside of his thigh. Right away the boy below her was twitching, muscles spasming as a grin sprang to his face, and he gritted his teeth while trying to close his legs in. Of course to no avail. He only just managed to hear him asking her to stop, through a loud shrieking giggle of course; mostly the door blocked all sound.

But something in particular was catching his interest. For some reason, he found his eyes drawn to the woman, and not for the simple aesthetic reason. There was something about her that seemed oddly familiar.

After a few more seconds of teasing him, she snapped the whip at his flesh, though with such a lazy flick that it couldn't have actually hurt. The idea seemed to be more to toy with him and tease than actually invoke the "SM" of BDSM.

"Oh, ow, the pain. Please stop." Her sub had begun to tease, shaking his hips back and forth to try and draw her in toward him. He wasn’t troubling to keep his voice down, but he almost had to more read lips than actually hear the words. "If I was a prisoner, I'd give this torture a five star rating for comfort! Thought you were gonna mess me up."

His Dom’s muffled voice replied something he couldn’t catch, and she turned back to dig within something out of Qrow's range; likely a bag. When she straightened up, however… she froze.

"Is it my silicone buddy?"

But as her partner giggled, the raven-haired beauty’s focus had turned elsewhere. Specifically, to the audience member currently at the window. But rather than looking with arousal at what was happening, or even with glee, he was instead staring straight at her face. The look upon it could only be described as someone who had just seen a ghost. It had taken him a moment to put the face with a name, since he had only met her a handful of times. But eventually, muffled through the glass…

"Blake?!"

When he said her name, she looked confused. Then she smiled briefly, but the smile fell away as she continued to stare. Then she turned back to the bound man and said, "Um… chipmunk." Apparently, that was a cue to end play, because she quickly followed up with, "Would you excuse me for a moment?"

"Chi- wait, what?" But he was already watching as she headed toward the bag again, presumably to fetch her night gown. "You're just leaving me like this?!"

But Qrow had already moved to one side to give room for her to leave, waiting for her to make her way outside. Just before she did, she pulled the shade down. "Don't worry! You know I won't forget you. And I’ll be quick, I promise." Then she slipped outside, pulling a zippered hoodie on over her arms to cover the top half of herself.

"I… I'm sorry," she whispered once the door was shut and she was facing the scruffy man with the black tie and the mildly-surprised expression. "You do seem familiar, but… how do we know each other, exactly?"

But Qrow's face was only starting to light up more. It was definitely her, out of all the people he could have seen in this place. "You're that emo chick that was around at Christmas that year! You dated my nephew!" That didn't seem to be helping, and simply brought more confusion. That was, until he added, "Well, my niece… Ying? Now Yang?"

"Oh! Oh, aren't you her uncle?" Her expression was slightly more pleased now. "Wow, what a small world! God, I haven't seen anyone from Yang's family since then, other than Ruby… damn. How are you?"

Chuckling a little, mostly out of nerves, he said, "Doin' alright, all things considered. Just getting introduced to this place, as you can see." He held up the small visitor card on his lanyard, giving it a light tap to exaggerate. However he went straight back to asking, "What about you? I did kinda wonder how things went once Ying… y'know."

"Dumped me?" Nodding almost more to herself than to him, Blake leaned back against the nearest wall, stuffing her hands in the hoodie pockets. "Yeah… I was a little upset, and I missed her like hell. But we worked through it, got past it… and now we're friends again, which is great! And I have Sun and am honestly happy with him, so it all worked out."

"Guessing Sun's the guy spread eagle you're about to have your way with?" It wasn't as though he was going to sugar coat it. Not when the evidence was right there, still tied up and helpless.

Grinning through her slight blush, she answered, "Yeah… is it weird that we're talking about this? I mean, obviously we're both at the Clamp for similar reasons, so we shouldn't be kink-shaming, but… is it weird?"

Scratching the back of his head, he looked away as his own blush seemed to form very slightly. "I'm not exactly open about this kinda stuff, usually. Personal preference and my…" For a moment, he cleared his throat, looking to the other side to continue to avoid eye contact. "My… associate's rules."

Both of her hands came up in front of her to ward off further details. "Hey, say no more! I wouldn't want you telling anybody I come here, either - or that it's Sun I have in there! For his sake. But, I mean… some friends wouldn't care. I just don't want coworkers or his family finding out, mostly." Then she smiled. "So, you're new to being a… sub? Dom? I'm having trouble reading you."

"Well, after the display she put on for me tonight, that could be up in the air now. But… let's just say my test drives had me in the Dom seat." Unable to help but point at the door with his thumb, he asked back, "You always the Dom with him or do ya switch it up?"

"Always," she snorted. "I… okay, this is gonna sound weird, but even though I don't like being Dommed, I do like being manhandled. You know, just regular rough stuff, not all… all this!" She gestured down to her fishnets and boots, then up at the spiked collar around her neck. "Guess I'm picky. But we both find it fun for me to go the whole nine yards as his Dom."

The scruffier man simply shrugged his shoulders, unable to help look her up and down to admire the attire. But upon realising that she'd probably get the wrong idea from such an action, he quickly made eye contact again instead, still holding the back of his head.

"Guess everybody’s boat floats for different reasons. I mean, I think I could be a sub, but the main thing putting me off?" Quickly looking over his shoulder just to be extra sure they were alone, he then leant in a little closer. "I don't particularly wanna bend over. For anybody. It's just… not my thing."

"Are you sure?" she whispered back. When he grunted, she immediately followed up with, "Maybe you are. But just saying… I didn't think Sun would like it, either. Most guys are afraid of anal, like it makes them 'gay' or 'weak' or something, and then…" Shrugging, she raised her index finger and wiggled it around. "They turn into putty in my hands. Not all of them asked for it like Ying and Sun, either - I mean, we know Ying was a special case since she's Yang now, but some of those guys were very straight, and very against it before I…. convinced them."

Though he was turning his nose up at the mental image of his niece being handled in such a way, it did seem to get him thinking. While anyone he had ever felt confident enough to talk about sex to before had been opposed to the idea of a man having his behind teased; everyone he saw here seemed to be enjoying their fair share. Odds were that was what Sun was waiting for in the other room. Eventually he shrugged his shoulder. "Well, maybe a finger. And even that’s a big maybe."

"See? That's more democratic. But honestly, if you tried it and didn't like it, that's cool. Just… you know. Don't knock it before you do." Leaning in, she cupped a hand to her mouth. "Don't tell anyone, but… once, Sun wanted to take a double-ended dildo and do some butt-to-butt. It didn't really work that well, and we ended up falling over so much, but… it was kinda fun, for a minute or two."

That was a mental image that did seem to make him chuckle, however. But that chuckling was cut off when a muffled voice sounded through the door. One rather desperate. "Did you plan to wind me up this much then leave me tied up? Don't make me beg! I don't wanna beg for the strap on!"

"Oops!" Blake giggled, covering her mouth with her gloved hand. "Said I wouldn't forget about him… but we haven't been talking all that long, have we?" Sighing, she shrugged and turned back toward the door. "See you downstairs, maybe?"

Nodding while he laughed to himself, he gave a quick thumbs up. "You bet. Have fun smashing your boyfriend's ass."

But before Blake could answer that same needy voice from the room replied instead. "I heard that, jerk."

Sighing as she walked through the door, she growled, "Alright, alright! Nobody likes a whiny sub!" Then it was shut, and the shade was closing him off from the view this time.

Shaking his head as he walked back down the hall again, he couldn't help but chuckle to himself. In a tiny amount of time, Blake, a woman he'd not met for years and years, had convinced him to let Winter try some form of anal play on him, even when he was adamant he wouldn't do such a thing before. It didn't seem so bad, all things considered. All of the men who had tried it had recommended it. So why was he so afraid he wouldn't enjoy it?

But when he neared Winter's room again, he was beginning to realise; maybe it was because he might enjoy it he never wanted to try. As Blake said, afraid of being perceived as gay. But Winter had been broadening his horizons for a while now. Maybe they could grow yet broader.

-----------------------------------------------

At long last, Winter and Glynda had finished and dressed. Even though she was used to wearing her Dom outfit on the second floor amongst the scenes, she wanted to make a seamless exit once they had enjoyed a drink, so she opted to put her dress back on before leaving the private room. Glynda did the same… though Qrow noticed she never put any underwear back on. It was quite possible she didn't wear any ever, but there was no way of confirming without asking an awkward question.

As they passed through the scenes and Winter stopped to talk to Candy again, who was being idly shocked by a male Dom, Glynda turned to Qrow and asked, "By the way… I've been wondering if you had a card I might hand out to anyone in the community? Male Doms who aren't complete chauvinist pigs are sadly rare."

Having been watching some of the scenes himself, the question caught him off guard. First there was a club like this in the middle of the city, now kinky business cards were a thing? There was far more to learn about this game than he thought. He was a fool to think it was simply fucking Winter a few times a week, it seemed. "Uh… like, laminated cards? Do they have to say if I’m an organ donor?"

"Apparently not," Glynda sighed, eyes roving over the scenes as they spoke. "That's alright. And yes, some Doms like to give out a card, usually just with their cell number and their 'Dom de plume'. I have Cinderella's… not that I'll ever call her again," she added in an undertone.

"Yeah, what’s the story with her?" he found himself asking. The tone Winter took with her when they were talking had him assuming that it was just instinctive jealousy, but now that someone unrelated was doing the same… "I spoke to her when I came in, she seemed… alright, just kinda full of herself."

A harsh bark of laughter escaped the bespectacled woman. "Oh, there are so many things. First of all, she doesn't believe in aftercare. Says it's 'not her job'. That alone is enough to make sure I'm never putting myself in her hands again; even if I didn't need it most times, knowing that she won't comfort me if I have a bad experience…" Her voice got quieter. "Or if I can't come back from subspace…"

Even the least experienced Dom like Qrow knew what “aftercare” was. Although he and Winter had never needed it after their play, he had still offered the service to her. Even if that mean just sitting and talking or general “hugging it out,” as he put it. For someone to shrug it off, it was worse than simple dominating. It was cruel.

But there was that word again, as well. "Subspace?"

"You really are just getting started." It wasn't spoken with any malice or scorn. Glancing around at the scene, and noticing Winter was face-deep in Candy's posterior, she decided to be kinder and chivvy Qrow along toward the stairs that led to the bar.

"Subspace is the mental state a sub can sometimes enter if they're in a particularly… intense scene. When you go beyond simply acting, and really start to feel like you're a lesser being. With pain and pleasure mixing together, it releases epinephrine and endorphins, shooting through your brain and- well, I might be getting too technical. Essentially, you might stop feeling any pain, or at least being able to tell you are. You can drop down into a sort of trance, detach from the reality of the scene. Reality altogether. It's a very incredible and profound experience, scary and exhilarating, but if you can't come back at the drop of a hat, or you come back incoherent and exhausted… you need to be gently soothed until you make it back to normal. Treated like you're made of glass, because even just careless treatment can make it worse, or at least make it take longer to come out of it. Which is terrifying. If you’ve ever heard of sleep paralysis, it can be a little like that: you want to move your body but you simply are not capable, and you panic but it still doesn’t help. A living nightmare."

"Huh…" It was a very odd explanation, but she had broken it down well enough that Qrow thought he understood. Winter had used the word before, but never explained what she meant. But now he had a meaning, he felt he could learn far more. And also how to make the experience better.

"So… if you wanna go for the brass ring, you want to take someone to this ‘subspace’, right? And then bring them out at the end?"

"You do." Then she shrugged. "Well… you don't want to try too hard to get them into subspace, since you might go too far. At least, I wouldn't recommend it to a beginner, or even an intermediate-level Dom. Just play the scene out the way it's meant to be played, and view subspace as a possible bonus if it happens."

"Right… Say, does this happen often? As in, like, planning out scenes from start to finish?" He asked rather nervously, shrugging his shoulders as he placed his hands into his pockets. "Cause so far, I've been winging it. Pun intended."

Smiling slightly, she finally approached the bar and dropped her bag of tricks onto the seat next to the one she claimed for herself. "There's nothing saying you have to plan one out. But a really involved scene can be… quite fun. Today's was a mixture of planning and spontaneity."

"The spontaneity part was me turning up. I know." Standing by her side and leaning against the bar as well, he gazed around at the patrons of the bar again. He still found it a little odd a place like this existed, but everyone was having a good time. Laughing, chatting, a general meetup. Even if the upstairs was filled with scenes and further upstairs was even more intimate acts going on. It was a place he never expected, but would go to again.

"So if we come again, I shouldn't need this, right?" He pointed at the lanyard again.

Turning back from the bartender she had just ordered from, she eyed the badge. "Hmm. Probably not, but it depends on your comfort level. It seems like I wore mine only once, but I've seen some people wear theirs three or four times before they're ready to begin participating. No one would think any less of you." Then she scowled. "Well, maybe Cinderella."

"I'm pretty sure I can handle her," he assured, leaning back against the bar himself to get a drink order of his own. But as he waited for Winter to come back downstairs, he turned to Glynda once again, asking, "How long's Winter been going to this thing? Or is that on a need to know basis?"

"Well… ordinarily I'd say you should be asking her, but she probably wouldn't mind me telling you it's been a little while. Still, if you want any more details than those, you had better ask her after all." Then she nodded toward the curtain that closed off the stairs from the rest of the bar. "And it seems like you can do that now."

Emerging from the curtain was Winter, who was talking amiably to a red-haired man in a white suit jacket and a bowler hat. Trailing behind him was a very short girl with two-toned hair, a collar around her neck and a leash that led from her to his hand. After a few more seemingly-pleasant words, Winter waved to him, and he executed a very brief bow before he went off to one side with his "pet" to secure a table.

Such a gesture had Qrow tilting his head for a moment while he watched, but soon turning back to the barman, calling up, "Better make that two of those, pal." Then by the time she reached the two of them, he was back facing her again, raising an eyebrow as he gestured back to the curtain. "Who was Clockwork Orange there?"

"Well, apparently he likes to be called 'Roman Candle'," she informed him as she came to a stop, slipping a business card into her cleavage. "He's heard of me and wanted to know if I'd be open to him Domming me. Of course, I'll ask around and consider his offer, but…" She glanced to the side.

"But what?" Glynda pressed.

"Well… that 'pet' of his looks a bit young. He assured me she's twenty, and that all she'll be doing is watching, but I'd still like confirmation of her age first." Then she snorted. "He told me she isn't allowed to carry personal effects while in the collar, which is fair."

"A pet that just watches? That seems like a waste of a collar to me, but each to their own, I guess." Shrugging his shoulders, he reached back around for the two freshly prepared drinks. Two more Toasted Marshmallows, both with gin. Qrow's clean night was completely off the table now, it seemed.

Although he never said it, he couldn't help but feel a slight hint of jealousy toward Winter's possible new contact. And not for the reason he thought he would. While she had her freedom and reputation around this place, he was stuck with a lanyard around his neck that warded people off. All except the rope handler who checked him out upon entry, that is.

"Well, I'm sure they do a lot of pet play things, but…" She made a non-verbal gesture to the bartender, then turned back to lean against the bar. "I get the feeling that they don't… you know, interact. Outside of the non-sexual roleplay aspect. I could be wrong, but I guess we'll see if I take him up on this."

Shrugging his shoulders, he handed one of the drinks over to Winter, soon taking a sip of his own straight after. "I'd have thought you of all people would know height isn't a factor to do with age. What's Weiss, like, 4'11”?"

"She's about 5'1", without shoes, actually. But you're right, that's not much of a difference, is it?" Shrugging, she took a sip and smiled slightly at the familiar flavour. "And it wasn't just that; she also has a very youthful face, a slight build. As I said, it's entirely possible she's twenty, but to be twenty and look that young… well, I envy her."

"Well duh, what I wouldn't give to look like anything other than a scruffy old coot with a drinking problem." The sound of Glynda clearing her throat was enough to make him glare in her direction, only for him to add, "Alright alright, less of a scruffy old coot, then. Can’t completely change my spots. Geez, I don't know why I'm still here with you two."

"Because you're a gentleman," Winter teased playfully, flicking at his necktie. "And you wouldn't dare let two beautiful blondes walk to their cars alone in the dark."

"I can take care of myself," Glynda grumbled, though she didn't sound too firm on that point. "But… it would be appreciated, I suppose."

After finishing another sip of his drink, he laughed to himself. "I'm guessing that's the 'I want to leave now' signal, right?"

Laughing, Winter placed her hand on his forearm again. "No, not at all! If you're enjoying yourself, we could linger a bit. It's… oddly nice to get to see you outside of play or bowling." Then she nodded to Glynda. "And you, as well."

"I'm not sure about us becoming… 'friends'," Glynda confessed. "I have tried not to mix business with pleasure at the Clamp. But…" Her cheeks rouged slightly.

"But you can't resist me?" Winter guessed. The rouge only deepened.