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ghoulbrain · 9 months ago

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Happiness is a Warm Gun

18+ 4.5k ghoul x f!reader. predator/prey roleplay, lite bondage lite cnc into enthusiastic consent, heavy gun kink/play, pet names, clothed/naked sex, creampie, aftercare. ends tender bc i can't help myself. gif credit. written for my darling @luckytiggertalia, who asked for excessive gun kink and captor/captive. thank you! 🖤 written as a successor to Saddle Up, Sweetheart, but can be read as a stand-alone.

Being in a relationship with the world’s most notorious bounty hunter lands you in some strange situations, but none stranger than those you concoct for yourselves. You run, and the Ghoul hunts you.

The Ghoul is one of the fiercest bounty hunters in New California, yet regardless of how terrifyingly efficient he is, everyone knows he only takes on payouts worthy of his time. With his long shadow stretching out across the west, most hunters are reluctant to take on bounties over a certain threshold, lest they accidentally come between him and his quarry.

Which, at this moment, just so happens to be you.

You’ve made it to a Red Rocket truck stop just half a mile west of Junktown. What was once a glorified gas station in a world long-gone now serves as little more than a hollowed out shell providing shade for all manner of miscreants and creatures wandering the dusty wastes, still decorated in tiny reminders of life before the war.

Crouched down behind a counter, your back pressed to the grime painted wall beneath a window, you spot a heavily aged cardboard carton labeled Grey Tortious Famous Cigarettes wedged at the very back of the second shelf behind the counter. Clicking your tongue softly, you reach for it, using the barrel of your pistol to catch the corner of the box. Carefully–and quietly–you drag it close enough to grab.

Your hopes aren’t high, but–

Jackpot.

Smiling faintly, you extract a crumpled but still half-full pack of cigarettes from the carton. You glance around, eyes wandering until you spot the decrepit remains of some poor bastard collapsed against the far wall, still garbed in their threadbare signature Red Rocket uniform. With a slight nod, you fish a single cap out of a small pouch on your belt and slide it onto the shelf.

“Pleasure doing business,” you murmur to the corpse, tucking the cigarettes carefully into the pack strapped to your thigh.

A shrill whistle, the kind you’d call a dog with, snaps your attention back to the moment. You press your back tight against the wall, sucking in a sharp breath to hold.

“Alright, darlin’, y’little goose-chase is over,” the Ghoul calls into the lot. Your heart begins to race. He sounds close. “I’m man enough to admit y’outfoxed me back at the yard, that was clever. But’cha got nowhere to slip to now,” he says, voice gradually growing louder. It’s not long before you can hear the crunch of his boots in the gravel.

You screw your eyes shut, steeling yourself with a silent breath before opening them again. He’ll have to circle the building to get where you are. The crunch of his boots is louder with each step. If he keeps yapping, it’ll be even easier to track the moment he moves out of eyesight of the window you’re hiding under, and you’ll be able to creep out to get behind him. Your grip on your pistol flexes, finger poised off the trigger.

The footsteps outside grow quiet enough that you can no longer hear them over the thundering of your heart. He hasn’t said anything, but you give it an extra few seconds to be safe, holding your breath as you gingerly lift out of your crouch, careful to keep your head beneath the window frame, eyes on the door across from you. Even if he sees you, you’ll have time enough to–

You’re jerked backwards suddenly by your jacket, a scream yanked out of you as you’re pulled against the window, knocking into it.

“There y’are,” he says through his teeth, hauling you up to your feet. Fuck, he faked you out with his steps. He holds you against the window, the edge of it biting into your back, his fist curled tightly in the collar of your jacket. “Give it up, darlin’. Y’all mine now,” he coos, his voice a sinister rasp at your ear.

Out of desperation, you drop your pistol and throw your arms up, slipping out of your jacket and stumbling forward onto your hands and knees. Your boots skid on the floor as you scramble to your feet, launching into a run. You look over your shoulder just in time to see him vaulting in through the window, scaring you into running faster.

Where you intend to run is a problem to be solved as you go.

Unfortunately for you, the Ghoul is a step ahead. Gunfire startles you halfway out of your skin, but it’s the sign that falls in your path that stops you in your tracks. You look up and see a woven cable swaying, frayed from where the crazy son of a bitch managed to shoot it clean apart. You gear up to bolt to the left, but it’s already too late. The tell-tale hiss of a rope whipping through the air is your only warning before the lasso tightens around your arms and sternum, one sharp yank pulling you off your feet and down onto your back.

The world spins. You let out a soft groan, moving to roll onto your side, but he keeps you from it with a hardy pull, gathering the rope in his hands as he walks to you.

The Ghoul lets out a low whistle, his shadow falling over you. “Close, but no cigar, sweetheart,” he drawls, crouching over you.

Disoriented, you stare at his upside down face. He’s got his head tilted, lips parted in a crooked sneer of a smile. His eyes are dark enough that you can see yourself in them, glinting with predatory glee. You can’t hide the trill of excitement that runs through you over being looked at like that. He clicks his tongue.

“N’aw, don’t you look plumb tuckered,” he says, voice laced with condescending sweetness. “No rest for the wicked, m’afraid,” he says, slipping his hands under your arms and hauling you up to your feet.

“You could’ve killed me,” you rasp, throat scorched by the dry desert air.

“Don’t be dramatic,” he deflects, amused. “Y’all in one piece, ‘ain’t’cha?” His breath is a warm tickle on your neck. With the rope tight across your sternum, arms pinned to your sides, he slides his gloved hand up your thigh, over your hip. His fingers tap along as he does, tickling your ribs, cupping your breast before sliding all the way up to your throat.

The barest hint of his lips brushes the spot just behind your ear, the feeling so faint you could have made it up entirely. You shiver, pulling sharply away, but he pulls you right back in, the worn leather of his glove soft around your neck, his grip firm.

“Mmhm, seem perfectly intact t’me,” he says, giving your throat a steadying squeeze. “No need t’put up a fight, angel. Y’comin’ with me either way.”

This time he presses his scarred lips properly to your skin, the feel of them warm and wet. Wanting. You swallow the lump in your throat, clench your thighs against the heat building between them.

“Let go of me,” you say, fighting to put conviction in it.

“No can do,” he says, his breath prickling goosebumps from your scalp to your thighs. “I’ve struck the motherlode with you.”

The rope is tied low and tight enough that you can’t elbow him or shoulder your way free. Impulsively, you move to kick at his leg, but he outmaneuvers you, catching your kick with his boot and spinning you around so suddenly you gasp.

“Oohh, y’ve got fire,” he says, lips pulled thin in a devilish smile. “I’m gonna enjoy breakin’ you.” Something hard presses into your rib, and you don’t need to look down to know it’s the muzzle of his revolver. He draws the hammer back into place with a distinctive click.

“Why don’t you be a good li’l captive and mosey on ahead?” He says, turning you until the gun is pressed into your lower back. You suppress a shudder. That’s when the world suddenly goes black, the press of the gun briefly vanishing while fabric is pulled tight over your eyes.

Wherever he’s taking you, he wants it to be a surprise.

The Ghoul walks you at gunpoint. He keeps the rope between you taut, the barrel of his gun pressed firmly to your back. The venture there is quiet, your gait tense with anticipation. A sick little thrill runs through you every time he yanks the rope or gives you a deep jab with his gun. There’s pleasure in his voice when he tells you, “Mind your step, sweetness.”

He knows precisely the effect he has on you, even if it took him time and a half to believe it.

His knuckles dig into your back as his fingers hook over the rope, holding it like a harness as you descend a flight of stairs. He catches you when you stumble on the last step, but it still startles you.

“A warning would have been nice,” you say, turning your head blindly, angling to try and get any glimpse of your surroundings from beneath the blindfold.

“Apologies,” he drawls, not sounding very sorry at all. He nudges you forward with his gun. “I like watchin’ you struggle.”

“Yeah, you make that very–” A hard tug on the rope cuts you off and stops you in your tracks. The rope comes loose after that, full circulation returning to your hands in a rush that makes them tingle. The Ghoul’s steps resonate in the room–it sounds large, mostly empty–as he walks away from you. You stay still for a hesitant moment, head jerking at the sound of something scraping across the floor towards you.

“Awwh, ain’t you sweet, waitin’ for permission,” he says, making you flush. You quickly reach up and pull the blindfold from your eyes, blinking to adjust to the dimly lit room.

It looks like a cleared out storage facility of some kind, with cement support beams lined up in a row down the center of the room, the walls lined with ransacked steel shelving. There’s a wire frame bed braced against one of the beams, heaped haphazardly with some pillows and blankets.

The Ghoul sits on a rusty wrought iron chair in front of you, staring up from beneath the wide brim of his hat. From his thigh, he has his revolver fixed on you.

“Atta girl,” he says as the blindfold hits the ground. “Now take off the rest.”

The low resonance of his voice easily commands the room. You swallow the lump in your throat, glancing down the dark barrel of his gun. Biting your tongue to keep yourself from showing too much excitement, you hurriedly reach for your–

The gunshot is deafening in the echoing expanse of the room, drowning out your scream. Already high on your own anticipation, the shot of adrenaline that goes through you with the startle nearly knocks you off your feet.

His gun smokes in the wake of the shot that narrowly missed your reaching hand.

“Slow,” he tells you, cocking the hammer once again with his thumb.

The pound of your heart is rivaled only by the aching throb between your thighs. Breathing shallowly, you keep your eyes trained on him as you–slowly, this time–reach for your belt, pouches shifting as you unbuckle it. You lay it carefully on the ground, mindful of the treasures you acquired at the gas station, before you kick off each boot.

His gaze is heavy on you all the while, eyes dark and attentive to your every move. Your focus is on the tip of his gun, how it subtly follows along with your hands. You peel each layer off without taking your eyes from him, a shiver moving through you once your hands touch bare skin, purposefully sliding them down your hips, your legs, and then moving them slowly back up as you stand back up, stepping out of the garments pooled on the floor.

He tilts his gun sideways and beckons you forward with it, tipping his head back, dark eyes tracking your every move as you approach him. One at a time, he spreads his legs. “On y’knees, darlin’.” You obey, sinking down–slowly, he told you slow–onto your knees between his legs, bringing yourself to eye level with his gun. The cement floor feels harsh against your bare skin.

“Y’got my gun dirty runnin’ me out into the wastes like that,” he chides, leaning forward, pressing his gun to your sternum. With agonizing slowness, he drags the muzzle up through the valley between your breasts, to the notch beneath your throat, pressing into it briefly. He continues up, the metal cool against your burning skin, though not by much. He hooks the barrel under your chin and tips your head back.

“Clean it for me,” he says, pushing it between your lips.

While you open your mouth too readily for the game at hand, he doesn’t protest. The taste of the gun is bitter and metallic, but what strikes you most is the black powder residue. It’s charred with a sharp tang. A moan escapes you for the way he pushes it deeper, forcing your lips wider apart.

“Don’t be shy. Give ‘er a good spit shine, sweetheart,” he encourages, pulling the gun back only to push it deeper yet. You comply, welcoming the slide of it deeper, pressing your tongue into the grooves on the underside, your eyes half-lidded and glazed with desire. “Good,” he says, voice rough with the effect you’re having on him.

Hands braced on your own bare thighs, your nails bite dull little crescents into your skin. The rock of your body is entirely subconscious, your eyelids fluttering. It’s easy to lose yourself to the work at hand, to luxuriate in the weight of his gaze on you while he uses you, fucking your mouth with the full barrel of his gun. He’s so committed to the fantasy, you can’t help but buy into it wholly.

By the time he pulls the gun away your chin is spit slick and your tongue is tingling where you’d been pressing it to the barrel. He gives an appreciative whistle while inspecting the wet shine of his gun. “That’s better,” he says, gaze sliding to you. He stands, grabbing a thick handful of your hair to haul you up to your feet with him. The noise you make is humiliating. Needy. His answering grin is wicked.

“Time t’oil it,” he says, voice frayed at the edges. He doesn’t let that trace of impatience impact his movements any. He walks you to the bed with that same loose devil-may-care swagger, assured that he has all the time in the world to take you apart piece by piece.

The mattress’ metal coils groan with your weight as he tosses you onto the bed, standing at the edge of it. The bed stands taller than most, bringing your pelvis parallel to his when you’re on your knees. He grabs your thigh and yanks your ass up into the air, smoothing his hand over the swell of it. He gives a sharp little slap to your rear that wrings a gasp out of you. The way he smooths his leather clad hand over the smarting spot afterwards almost feels like an apology, even if he’s really just admiring his handiwork.

“Spread,” he orders simply. You do so eagerly, widening the splay of your knees, folding your arms to rest your head on. “Look at you,” he breathes with genuine wonder, gripping your ass cheek and holding it firm while he inspects you. You can already feel what he’s looking at, how wet you are from his teasing. “Y’fuckin’ drippin’ for me.”

A shiver rolls through your whole body at the feel of his gun against your inner thigh sliding slowly upwards. Your hips give a reflexive little buck at the first touch of that warm barrel against your soaked cunt, your clit throbbing so hard it aches. “Don’t move,” he tells you. He sounds wrecked. He moves it back and forth, teasing your clit with just the muzzle of it before drawing back, and your thighs tremble with the effort to keep yourself still when all you want is to chase that precious relief.

The hiss of his zipper is the most thrilling noise you’ve ever heard. The gun disappears from between your thighs.

“Up,” he tells you, taking a rough hold of your shoulder and yanking you upright before you have the chance to comply. He holds you still while he lines himself up, the familiar thick head of his cock grinding through the wet slide of you, the length of him rubbing from taint to clit. “Y’made this big mess just from suckin’ down my gun? Christ alive, darlin’. You’re somethin’ else,” he says through his teeth. The ruin in his voice makes it feel like praise, and that feels good.

Almost as good as the slow burn of his cock pushing into you, the sound of it obscenely loud and wet. You tip your head back against his shoulder and reach back over your own, grabbing at his coat, holding onto him for dear life while he sinks deeper and deeper, pulling you back until your bare ass falls flush against him. Feeling his clothing against your bare body intensifies that intoxicating feeling of vulnerability. Never in your life has the thrill of danger been safe to explore.

Not until him.

He gives you no time to adjust, thrusting almost as soon as he’s bottomed out.

“Fffuck,” you exhale, eyes screwed tightly shut. You start to lean forward, but he catches you by the throat, pinning you back against his chest at the same time he fires his gun, shocking your eyes wide open. Your body goes rigid, cunt seizing up so tightly around him he hisses out a breath.

“C’mon, little bunny,” he whispers in a vicious grit, pressing the still-warm muzzle firmly against your temple. “Bounce for me.” He cocks the hammer back, the smell of black powder filling your senses.

You nod fervently, lifting up on your knees and using the mattress to bounce yourself on his cock, gravity bringing you down into every one of his hard thrusts. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, sighing his pleasure in strained little sounds. His hand slides down your throat to your chest, cupping your breast and squeezing, thumbing your nipple until you shudder.

“Close,” you moan, fist twisting in the fabric of his coat, your other hand clutching the wrist of the hand he’s fondling you with. “Please.”

His only response is to slide his hand down further, fingers slipping between your thighs. His middle finger finds your clit first, the friction making your hips jerk out of rhythm. He persists, fingering your clit in smooth circles while he fucks you hard.

“Atta girl,” he murmurs, his breath hot and wet on your neck. “All that fight’s gone now, ain’t it? Just a needy li’l thing beggin’ t’cum.” You’re so close you’re starting to shake, breath caught in your throat. “Go on, angel. Lemme hear how pretty you can beg.”

His fingers slow enough that your ascension falters. “Please!” You rasp immediately, squeezing his wrist, begging in every way you know how to. “Please, m’so close, please make me cum, please,” you plead, voice pitchy, your thoughts empty of everything but pleasure. He’s fucking you hard, chasing his own release just as fervently.

Just like that his touch returns to full force, deftly working your clit until your pleasure crests and your pleas turn to cries. Your orgasm hits like an earthquake, a sudden eruption that renders you silent, your lips falling open on a noiseless scream. Your body locks up like a vice, euphoria turning your vision white and emptying your mind of all thought while pleasure cascades through you in hot liquid waves.

He doesn’t stop, though his thrusts slow. He fucks you deeply through your orgasm, savoring every quiver around his cock while he uses you. You don’t hear him come, but you feel it, the deep rush of heat that he empties into the core of you, his body going still against yours. Your whole body shudders and you exhale a broken little noise, dizzy from the magnitude of it all. Everything around you feels bleary, your vision fading in and out. For a moment, you feel as though you might float away from your body entirely, your consciousness barely holding on, but the feeling of him pressed against your back, holding you to him, grounds you.

He moves the gun from your temple and holsters it, adjusting his grip so that he can ease you down onto your stomach, slipping from between your legs. You pant hot puffs of air into the bedding, your vision blurry at the edges.

“Coop,” you call, signifying the end of your little game of pretend.

“M’right here,” he soothes, his bare hands upon you not a moment later. There’s a marked difference in the way he touches you now, a subtle tenderness that he’d forced out of his touch for the sake of play. You hadn’t realized how much you missed it until now, feeling it as if for the first time.

He slides into bed next to you, having shed his gloves, coat and bandolier. You find the strength to slip an arm around him, clinging despite the tremble in your limbs. The next several seconds–moments, maybe hours, you can’t be sure–pass by in a haze of touch.

He kisses your forehead, your nose, your lips. He makes you aware of your entire body, grounding you with sweeping touches to every part of your body. It’s an intoxicating intimacy that leaves you feeling warm and drunk, still hungry for more.

At some point Cooper gets the blanket over you, skirting his scarred fingers up and down your arm beneath it. The adrenaline crash that follows your orgasm is unlike anything you’ve experienced before, leaving you exhausted on a level beyond physical.

“Still with me?” Cooper asks after a time, fingertips tapping idle patterns on your skin as if to call you back to your body. “Mhm… Intense,” you say, the lone word slurred by your lazy tongue.

“Warned you,” he gives back, sounding nearly as ruined. His voice is deeper than usual, thoroughly frayed at the edges. It’s true, he had warned you that you were playing with fire. It’s unclear how much of that had been play, and how much was just him. Still, it had been… thrilling. Amazing. Everything you’d hoped it would be.

“How ‘bout it, darlin’, do I scare you yet?” He asks, making it sound like an inevitability. He must believe it is.

You sigh a low hum, pretending to give the matter great thought. “Mmm… Mm-mm. Not one little bit,” you say, the words hardly legible.

“Shucks,” he says simply, feigning something like disappointment.

“Why’re you so determined to scare me off?” You ask, adjusting where your head lay on his shoulder so that you can look up at him. You’ve grown accustomed to his unique silhouette, but more than that, you’ve started to figure out what it is that makes him handsome. He’s got a wide chin and a fine jawline, and on the rare occasions you see it, a charming smile.

Much of it is in his eyes. They never fail to make your heart stutter.

“A saner question would be why you’re so determined t’stay,” he counters, those very eyes dropping to meet yours. You can’t help but smile, which–as per usual–catches him just a touch off guard.

“I got a thing for pretty men,” you say, caught up in your own musings.

His expression flattens. “Very funny,” he says, and you realize he thinks you’re mocking him.

“Hey, I mean it. I was just thinking about how handsome you are,” you say, reaching up to touch his jaw.

“There’s a specific kind’a philia for finding corpses handsome, y’know,” he says, though in his afterglow the words lack their usual sharp cynicism. They come to him more like habit than anything else.

“You’re not a corpse, Cooper,” you tell him firmly, cupping his cheek in your palm. “You don’t need to keep living like one.”

He considers you in silence for a long moment. With the back of his knuckles, he brushes your cheek. There it is again; that deep sadness that sometimes appears in his eyes when he looks at you. As if he’s mourning something.

“What?” You whisper. “Why do you–”

He kisses you, swallowing the words clean off your lips. He takes your face between his hands and kisses you, kisses you, kisses you through your meager protests until your lips move with his and you sink back down into the warmth of it. He grows progressively more relentless with it, stealing your breath until you’re forced to break away, turning your head for air.

“You can’t kiss your way out of every–”

“I know,” he interrupts you, lifting his head to level you with a hard stare. “I know, alright? But it’ll come on my terms, in my time, yeah?”

You stare, pinned by the weight in his expression. After a beat, you nod, feeling dazed by both the onslaught and his words. It’s the only time he’s acknowledged that there is something, which you suppose is progress. “Okay,” you say softly, and then again more firmly, “Okay.”

His expression softens, taking in the look of you before he kisses you again. You reciprocate, pressing into his lips with the weight of your conviction, willing him to feel how much you really do mean it.

“Thank you for today,” you murmur, settling back down against him. “I never thought that I’d be able to… do something like that. And live,” you say, adding the last bit with a rueful smile. “I feel safe with you.”

You wait for some kind of dismissive or self-deprecating remark from him, or even a sly jab at you and your sanity, but neither come. You glance up and find him staring at you, thoughtful and–if your eyes don’t deceive you–a little sentimental.

“I don’t make promises,” he tells you, sounding resigned. “But for what it’s worth, I’d never want t’do somethin’ I thought might hurt you.”

“You’re sweet,” you say, that same sentimentality slipping into your own voice. If not a bit ominous.

“Not really,” he replies, adjusting against the bedding, his eyes falling shut. “Y’standards are just too low.”

You sigh, closing your eyes with an incredulous little smile. “Shut up.”

The two of you drift into comfortable silence, his fingers idly traipsing the contours of your body. It’s like he’s memorizing the feel of you, hyper-aware that these intimate moments together are stolen. You reciprocate, seeking out what bare skin you can with gentle brushes of your fingers. He’s never admitted as much, but you’ve long suspected he struggles with pain. He’s rarely ever unclothed, and sometimes you see him wince when he goes too long between hits of those vials.

Cooper started living on borrowed time long before he met you, but it doesn’t stop you from hoping that he might someday see something more permanent in you. With you.

In the meantime, you’ll make the most of every second.

#the ghoul #cooper howard #the ghoul x reader #cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x you #fallout fanfic #x reader #x reader smut #fem reader #my writing #smut

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shiproleplayer · 1 year ago

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Yeah this is most definitely true. I have been looking for people on my other account for quite some time now tbh. I know that this has been posted in 2019 but it's 2023 and this still hasn't really changed. It's hard to find people to rp with sometime.

How many httyd roleplay blogs even are there anymore would I even have partners

I don’t even know how to really FIND any httyd roleplay blogs other than posting in the dragon tags and hoping for the best

All my old rp partners are long gone too as far as I know

Ugh finding people is always the hardest part

I guess if any httyd roleplay blogs see this give it a reblog

#httyd #how to train your dragon #httyd roleplay #dragons #toothless #hiccup how to train your dragon #hiccup and toothless #hiccup haddock #httyd fandom #roleplay #race to the edge #riders of berk #httyd 1 #httyd 2 #httyd 3 #dagcup #httyd dagur

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m4rv3l-girl · 2 months ago

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“You made a List?” - Part 3 (Roleplay)

Bucky x Y/N

Y/N made an interesting to-do list, Bucky wants to tick them all off..

Warnings: Roleplay (Dad’s best friend). Fingering. Unprotected p in v sex. Age gap.

In the quiet sanctuary of their shared apartment, Bucky Barnes studied the scribbled list that Y/N had written.

The room was suffused with the soft glow of candlelight, casting shadows that danced across the walls and illuminating the corners of his eyes with a gentle warmth. His gaze lingered on the word "roleplay", and a swirl of emotions churned within him.

Despite his past as the Winter Soldier, Bucky had always found refuge in the delicate dance of trust and vulnerability that came with exploring new intimate experiences with Y/N. He set the paper down, his metallic hand clenching and unclenching reflexively. "So, what do you have in mind?" he asked, his voice a soft rumble that seemed to resonate through the very air.

Y/N looked up from where she sat on the bed, her cheeks flushed with a hint of excitement. "Well," she began, her voice a little shaky, "I thought we could try something a bit… different. Nothing too extreme, but something that might be fun for us both." She took a deep breath, her eyes searching Bucky's for any signs of hesitation or discomfort.

He nodded slowly, his expression a mask of determination. "Whatever you want, I'll try it," he murmured, crossing the room to stand in front of her. "What's the scenario?"

Y/N's pulse quickened at his willingness. She had always felt safe with Bucky, even when they ventured into the realms of her darker fantasies. “You choose.” She stated.

Bucky paused for a moment, his eyes searched hers, reading her like an open book. His mind raced through various scenarios, trying to pick one that would resonate with her without triggering any negative memories from her past. Then he spoke, his voice low and deliberate. “How about I’m your dad’s best friend?”

The words hung in the air, thick with potential and a hint of the forbidden. Y/N’s eyes widened, and she felt a thrill, an exciting drop in her stomach.

She had never admitted it outright, but the idea of Bucky in that role had crossed her mind before, especially given their significant age gap. She knew it was a sensitive subject for her, but with him, she felt like she could explore even her deepest, most hidden desires.

Taking a moment to absorb the gravity of what they were about to do, she nodded slowly. “Okay,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Bucky's eyes searched hers, his hand reaching out to gently cup her cheek. His thumb brushed against her skin in a tender gesture that sent a shiver down her spine. "If you're sure," he murmured, his gaze intense and protective. "We can stop at any time, remember that."

Y/N nodded firmly, her heart racing as she stood up. She took a deep breath and slipped into the role, her voice taking on a younger, more innocent tone. "Yes, you can be Daddy's friend," she said, looking up at him with a mix of shyness and curiosity.

Bucky felt his own heart stumble at her words, the reality of the roleplay setting in. He had to remind himself that this was Y/N, his partner, the woman he loved beyond measure. He stepped closer to her, his eyes never leaving hers.

"Now, we’ll say you're home alone, and I've come to check on you," he began, “let me know if you get uncomfortable.”

Y/N nodded, her breath hitching slightly as she took a step back, her eyes wide and filled with a mix of nervousness and excitement. She sat on the edge of the bed, her hands folded neatly in her lap, her posture that of a young girl trying to appear mature beyond her years. "Alright." she murmured.

Bucky took on the persona of the concerned, yet slightly flirtatious older man, his eyes darkening as he took in the sight of her. He sat down beside her, his posture relaxed yet attentive. “Where’s your dad?” he asked, his voice gruff with a hint of a smile.

Y/N’s voice was a soft whisper, a stark contrast to her usually confident tone. “He had to go out of town on business,” she replied, her eyes downcast, playing the part of the obedient daughter.

Bucky’s eyes searched her face for any signs of distress, his thumb still caressing her cheek. He could feel the weight of his own past pushing against the walls of the room, threatening to invade this sacred space they’d created. But he remained steadfast in his commitment to her, to their love, and to the boundaries they’d set for themselves.

He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a seductive murmur. “And your mom?”

Y/N bit her lower lip, her eyes flicking up to meet his before looking away again. “She’s not here either,” she replied, the room suddenly feeling much hotter than it had a moment before.

Bucky's heart was racing, the thrill of the roleplay setting his nerves alight. He knew he had to tread carefully, ensuring that she was as comfortable as possible. He leaned back slightly, giving her space while maintaining the illusion of their new dynamic. "Well then," he said, his voice a low drawl, "it seems like I'm all you've got for the night."

Y/N felt the tension coil in her stomach, a heady mix of anticipation and apprehension. She had never been one for such a taboo scenario, but with Bucky, she felt safe to explore even the darkest corners of her imagination. She played along, her voice a soft sigh. "What are we going to do?" she asked, a playful tremble in her voice.

Bucky's gaze remained on her, his hand still resting on her cheek. He leaned in, his breath warm against her ear. "Well," he began, his tone a teasing whisper, "since it's just the two of us, we can do whatever we want." He paused, his thumb tracing a line along her jaw. "But first, I need to make sure you're okay with this." His eyes searched hers for any sign of doubt, his expression a careful blend of the role and his genuine concern for her well-being.

Y/N nodded, her eyes fluttering closed for a brief moment before opening them again, her voice stronger now. "I'm okay," she assured him, "I trust you."

With a gentle smile, Bucky leaned back, his hand dropping away. "Good," he said, his voice dropping back into the persona of the roleplay. "Because I'm going to show you what it's like to be taken care of by your Daddy's friend."

He stood up, his movements fluid and deliberate, and took a few steps away from the bed. He turned back to her, his eyes smoldering with the new character he had adopted. "Come here," he ordered, his voice firm but not unkind.

Y/N's breath caught in her throat as she rose from the bed, her legs feeling wobbly. She took the few steps that separated them, her eyes locked on his. As she reached him, he placed a hand on the small of her back, guiding her to stand in front of him. The warmth of his touch sent a jolt of electricity through her body, and she felt a thrill of excitement mixed with a hint of fear.

Bucky took her chin in his hand, tilting her head up to look at him. His eyes searched hers for any signs of distress, but all he saw was a spark of curiosity and desire. He leaned down, his breath hot on her face, and whispered, "You're so beautiful."

Y/N's heart skipped a beat, her cheeks flushing. The intimacy of his words, spoken in such a setting, sent a shiver down her spine. She felt herself melt into the role, her body responding to his touch, his voice. She leaned into him, her eyes closed, as his hand traveled down her arm to interlock their fingers.

Guiding her to the bed, Bucky sat down, pulling her onto his lap. She straddled him, her legs on either side of his muscular thighs. He wrapped his arms around her, his hands resting on her waist, and whispered, "Tell me what you want."

Her eyes opened, meeting his, and she could see the concern in them, the love that was always there, even as they played out this fantasy. She took a deep breath and leaned closer, her voice barely above a whisper. "I want you to take care of me," she said, her eyes never leaving his.

Bucky's arms tightened around her, his eyes darkening with passion. He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead before moving to her cheek, then her neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin there.

Y/N let out a soft moan, her body responding to his touch. She could feel the tension in his muscles, the way his grip tightened on her waist, and she knew that he was fighting his instincts, keeping the roleplay within the lines they had drawn together.

His kisses grew bolder, moving to her jawline and then capturing her mouth. The kiss was deep and all-consuming, filled with the tension of their roles and the fiery passion that burned beneath it all. Y/N's hands tangled in his hair, her body moving against his in a silent plea for more. Bucky could feel the heat building between them, the energy that came from the delicate balance of power and submission that they had agreed upon.

Breaking the kiss, he looked at her, his eyes filled with a mix of hunger and care. "Is this okay?" he whispered, his thumb tracing the curve of her lower lip.

Y/N nodded, her breathing ragged. "More than okay," she replied, her voice a soft purr that sent a thrill through his body. She leaned into him, her breasts pressing against his chest, and kissed him again, her tongue darting out to taste him.

Encouraged, Bucky's hands slid up her body, cupping her breasts through the fabric of her shirt. He could feel her nipples harden against his palms, and he knew she was just as lost in the moment as he was. He broke the kiss again, his eyes searching hers, making sure she was still with him.

Y/N nodded, her cheeks flushed and her eyes glazed with desire. She reached for the hem of her shirt, lifting it over her head to expose her bare chest. The sight of her skin, pale and flawless in the dim light, was almost too much for Bucky to bear. He leaned in, his mouth closing over one nipple, his tongue flicking and teasing it into a tight peak.

Her back arched, and she gasped, her hands moving to grip the back of his neck. "Bucky," she murmured, her voice a breathy plea that sent a jolt of desire through him. He switched to the other nipple, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh before sucking it into his mouth.

Y/N's hips began to move in a slow, sensual rhythm against Bucky's, the fabric of her shorts brushing against his growing arousal. He could feel the wetness seeping through the fabric as she ground against him, and he knew she was just as eager as he was. He released her nipple with a soft pop, his gaze never leaving hers as he reached down to unbutton her shorts.

With trembling hands, she helped him, pushing the material down her legs to expose her damp panties. Bucky's eyes darkened even further, his desire for her a palpable force in the room. He slid his hand down the front of her underwear, his fingers finding the sodden fabric. He groaned against her neck, his teeth sinking into the soft flesh as he began to stroke her.

Y/N's breath hitched, and she threw her head back, her eyes rolling back in her head. The feeling of his hand on her, the gentle yet firm pressure of his fingers, was almost too much. She could feel herself getting wetter, her body begging for more.

"If your daddy knew about this," Bucky murmured against her skin, his voice a seductive purr, "he'd be worried sick about his little girl."

Y/N's eyes snapped open at his words, the thrill of the forbidden washing over her. She knew it was just a game, but the thought of it being so wrong, so taboo, only served to make it feel so much more right. "But it's just us," she managed to say, her voice a desperate whisper.

Bucky chuckled darkly, his hand still working its magic. "But imagine," he said, his voice a tease, "his best friend, his trusted comrade, doing all these dirty things to you." His fingers still circled the damp patch of her panties teasingly.

The mental image was too much for Y/N, and moaned, her walls clenching around nothing.

Bucky felt a surge of power, knowing he was the one causing her such exquisite torment. He slipped his hand inside her panties, his calloused fingertips brushing against her wet folds. She was so wet, so ready for him, and the thought of her being this aroused for him was intoxicating.

He slid his fingers through her slickness, finding her clit and beginning to rub it in slow, deliberate circles. Y/N's hips bucked, and she let out a keening cry. "Bucky," she whimpered, her eyes pleading.

"What do you want, baby girl?" he asked, his voice a low growl, his teeth nipping at her earlobe.

"I want you," she breathed, her voice shaking. "I need you."

With a groan, Bucky stood, lifting her with him, and carried her to the bed. He laid her down, his body covering hers, his weight pressing her into the mattress. He kissed her again, deep and possessive, his tongue delving into her mouth as his fingers continued to work their magic between her legs.

Y/N’s hips moved in time with his touch, her body begging for more. She could feel the fabric of his pants, the hardness of his cock pressing against her, and she reached down to free him. Her hand closed around his length, and she stroked him in time with his movements, her thumb smearing the pre-cum that beaded at the tip.

Bucky’s hips jerked, and he broke the kiss with a gasp. "Careful, little one," he warned, his voice strained. "You're playing with fire."

But Y/N was beyond caring. She was lost in the moment, the roleplay consuming her. She wanted him, needed him to fill her, to take her over the edge. "Please," she begged, her voice needy.

Bucky couldn't resist her plea. He pulled away from her just long enough to remove her panties, tossing them aside before positioning himself at her entrance. He looked into her eyes, searching for any signs of doubt, but all he saw was desire, pure and unbridled.

“You want it, Kitten? You want Daddy’s friend to fuck you, Baby?”

Y/N’s eyes widened, and she nodded fervently, her cheeks flushing with arousal at the harshness of his words. She had never heard him speak to her this way before, and it was an aphrodisiac that she craved more of.

Bucky’s grip tightened on her hips as he pushed into her in one slow, powerful stroke.

She cried out, her nails digging into his back, her body stretching to accommodate his thickness. He stilled for a moment, giving her time to adjust, before he began to move. His thrusts were deliberate, each one sending shockwaves of pleasure through her body.

Their roles had shifted into place, and she truly was now the eager young girl, desperate to please the older, more experienced man she had secretly desired for so long. The taboo nature of the scene only heightened her arousal, making every touch, every kiss, feel more forbidden and delicious.

With each thrust, Bucky felt the weight of his past recede, the chains of his guilt loosening as he became lost in the feeling of her tight, wet heat surrounding him. His movements grew more urgent, his breaths coming in harsh pants as he claimed her over and over again.

Y/N’s legs wrapped around his waist, her ankles locking at the small of his back as she met him thrust for thrust, her moans growing louder with each pass. She felt a thrill run down her spine as Bucky’s usually gentle and caring demeanor transformed into something more primal and dominant.

“You’re so wet for me, baby girl,” Bucky murmured into her ear, his voice thick with desire. “You like being a bad little girl for Daddy’s friend, don’t you?”

Y/N’s eyes went wide, and she couldn’t hold back a gasp of pleasure at his words. She had never heard him speak like this before, and it sent a delicious shiver down her spine. The way he talked to her, the way he touched her, it was like he had unlocked a part of her that she hadn’t even known existed. She nodded, her voice barely a whisper. “God…yes.” she confessed, her body arching up to meet his every thrust.

Bucky’s eyes gleamed with dark satisfaction as he watched her unravel beneath him. He had always been the one to take care of her, to protect her from the shadows of their past. But now, in this moment, he was the one guiding her through a new kind of darkness—a darkness of desire and submission that she seemed to crave just as much as he did.

With a low growl, he rolled them over, placing Y/N on top of him, her legs straddling his waist. He palmed her ass, urging her to ride him with a newfound sense of power and urgency.

The sight of her on his cock, her breasts bouncing with each downward motion, was almost more than he could handle.

His hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake as he explored every curve and valley.

Her hips rolled and circled, grinding down onto him as she took charge of their rhythm. The sensation of her wetness, the way she tightened around him, was driving Bucky wild. He could feel her inner walls fluttering, and he knew she was close. "That's it," he encouraged, his voice guttural, "make your Daddy's friend feel good."

Y/N’s movements grew more erratic as she approached her peak, her eyes locked on his, her breaths coming in pants. She felt the tension build, the pressure in her core spiraling out of control. She leaned forward, her hands on his chest, her nails digging into his skin. "Bucky," she whimpered, her voice breaking on his name.

He watched her, his own control slipping away with each of her passionate movements. His hips bucked up to meet hers, his body straining to give her all she needed. "God, doll…" he encouraged, his voice a low rumble that seemed to resonate within her very soul.

"Take it all, baby."

Y/N threw her head back, her hair cascading down her back as she rode him faster, harder. The room was filled with the sounds of their lovemaking—the slap of their skin, her desperate gasps, and the low growl that rumbled from his chest.

Bucky watched her with hooded eyes, his own pleasure rising with each thrust. His thumb found her clit again, and he began to rub it in slow circles, matching the rhythm of their hips.

With a sudden surge of strength, Bucky flipped them over again, placing Y/N on her back. He hovered above her, his muscles tense with desire, his eyes never leaving hers as he pushed her legs apart, holding them spread crudely, and settled himself between them. The new position was deeper, more intimate, and she gasped as he slammed into her, the force of his movements making her eyes roll back in her head.

“You like that, don’t you?” he murmured, his voice a dark caress. “You like when I take what I want?”

Y/N’s eyes fluttered shut, a soft moan escaping her lips. She nodded, the feel of him so deep inside her making it difficult to speak. Bucky’s hand slid from her ankle to her calf, tracing a path up to her thigh. He leaned in, his teeth grazing her neck as he whispered, “Say it. Tell me you want me to fuck you like a bad little girl should be fucked.”

The words were a spark to the dry tinder of Y/N’s desire, and she responded without thought. “Yes, Bucky. Yes, please,” she begged, her voice breathy and needy. His grip tightened on her thigh, and he thrust into her with renewed vigor, his movements punctuating every word.

Her hands found their way to his shoulders, her nails digging in as she held on for dear life, her hips matching his rhythm as best she could. The pleasure was building inside her, a pressure that grew with each stroke, each caress of his thumb against her clit. She felt like she was falling, like she was soaring, all at once.

Their bodies moved together in a dance of passion and power, the line between love and lust blurring with each passing moment. Y/N could feel the tension in Bucky's arms as he held himself above her, his muscles flexing with each thrust. Beads of sweat pooling between them, neither sure of whose it was. His eyes never left hers, the intensity of his gaze making her feel more exposed than the lack of clothing between them.

Bucky's hand slid up her body, his thumb brushing against her nipple before moving to her face, tracing the contours of her cheekbone. "You're so beautiful like this," he murmured, his voice a stark contrast to the roughness of his actions. "So vulnerable, so willing."

Y/N's eyes snapped open, meeting his. The intimacy of his gaze, the way he was looking at her as if she were the only person in the world, was almost too much to handle.

But she didn't look away, instead leaning into his touch, her breath coming in ragged gasps. "Bucky," she breathed, her voice shaking. "I'm so close."

The pressure within her was reaching a crescendo, and she could feel the beginnings of her orgasm coiling in her stomach.

Bucky's strokes grew faster, his breathing harsh and uneven as he pushed her closer to the edge. His thumb circled her clit with unrelenting pressure, and she could feel her body tightening around him. "Come for me," he urged, his voice a low snarl. "Come on my cock."

Y/N's eyes squeezed shut, and she let out a scream as the wave of pleasure crashed over her.

Her body convulsed.

her muscles clenching around his length as she shuddered through her climax. Bucky watched her with a mix of awe and possessiveness, his own orgasm building rapidly. He could feel the tension in his balls, the heat rising in his shaft.

With a final, desperate thrust, he reached his peak, his body shuddering as he came hard, his seed rushing across her heaving chest. It was a release like none he had ever felt before, the taboo nature of their roleplay adding an intensity that made his vision swim.

He had never marked her like this before, and the primal satisfaction it brought him was both shocking and exhilarating.

Y/N felt the hot drip of his cum hit her chest, and she couldn’t hold back a whine of pleasure. She had never been so thoroughly claimed, so completely owned. It was a heady feeling, and she reveled in it, her body still shaking from the aftershocks of her own climax.

Bucky watched as her chest heaved with each breath, the evidence of his release painting her pale skin. He felt a primal sense of satisfaction at the sight, his eyes never leaving hers as he leaned down to kiss her, his tongue slipping into her mouth to muffle her soft whimpers.

Their kiss grew in intensity, each movement of their lips a silent declaration of the power they shared. Y/N's hands slid up to tangle in his hair, her nails scraping his scalp as she pulled him closer, her body still trembling from the force of her orgasm.

As they broke apart, panting for breath, Bucky's gaze searched hers, looking for any signs of distress or discomfort. Her eyes were glazed with pleasure, but there was a hint of something deeper, something that made his heart clench. He knew the aftermath of such an intense scene could be overwhelming, and he was determined to care for her in every way she needed.

Gently, he rolled them over so she was nestled in his arms, her back pressed against his chest. He held her close, his hand stroking her hair as he kissed her neck. "Are you okay?" he whispered, his voice thick with concern.

Y/N nodded, her body still trembling slightly. "Yes," she murmured, her voice muffled by his shoulder. "That was… intense."

Bucky tightened his hold on her, his chest heaving with the exertion of their encounter. He knew that aftercare was just as important as the roleplay itself, especially when it came to scenes that pushed boundaries. He reached for the bedside table, grabbing a bottle of water and a soft cloth. He gently cleaned her up, his movements tender and soothing, before handing her the water and a blanket to cover herself.

Y/N took a sip, her eyes never leaving his as he took care of her. The intimacy of the moment was palpable, a stark contrast to the raw power that had just flowed between them. She could feel the warmth of the blanket enveloping her, the softness of the fabric a balm to her over-sensitized skin. Her breathing evened out as she leaned back against him, her heart rate slowly returning to normal.

Bucky's hand continued to stroke her hair, the movement soothing and grounding. He whispered sweet nothings into her ear, his voice a gentle caress that sent shivers down her spine. "You did so good, doll," he murmured, his voice filled with a warmth that seemed to seep into her very soul. "That was incredible…"

Y/N took a deep breath, letting the weight of his words fill her. The aftermath of their roleplay was always a delicate balancing act, the descent from the heights of their shared passion to the quiet tenderness of their reality. She leaned into him, her eyes closed, as he kissed her forehead, her temple, the corner of her mouth. Each kiss was a promise, a reassurance that no matter what they did together, she was safe with him.

Bucky’s arms tightened around her, holding her like he never wanted to let go. He knew that after such an intense scene, Y/N needed to feel his love and protection more than ever. His hand slid down to her waist, his thumb tracing lazy circles as he felt her body relax against him.

He whispered sweet words into her ear, telling her how much he loved her, how beautiful she was, and how much she meant to him.

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Let me know what you thought! 🤭

Requests Open!

#bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes #marvel #bucky smut #bucky fluff

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greenandsorrow · 1 month ago

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Can I ask for an obscenity with Alastor in the nun outfit he wore when he fought with Lucefer... Female reader if possible

AN OBSCENE FAITH

nun!Alastor x fem!sinner!reader

Warnings: adult content, graphic/explicit descriptions, consensual chaos, no plot just porn, bodily fluids, horniness, low-key public setting, corruption kink, spanking, creampie, just an overall filthiness, switch!Al, switch!reader, possessiveness, Alastor's shadow

💜 I'm an orthodox Christian, so I didn't go ALL out when it comes to using religious themes as a kink (ex. that's why I used the word 'chapel' and not 'church' and also didn't mention any crucifixes or rosemaries). That being said, I don't think it's lacking in kinkiness at all... See for yourselves and let me know! 💜

The chapel is quiet, the kind of silence that demands reverence... or indulgence. Flickering candlelight carves long shadows on the walls, but your focus isn't on the setting around you. It's on him.

It isn't every day that you find yourself in an abandoned chapel with Alastor... Especially not when he is wearing that outfit.

Alastor stands by the chapel's altar. He's clad in a nun's habit that clings to his tall, lean and wiry silhouette like second skin. The white collar frames his pale face, his ever-present grin twisted into something darker -something predatory.

As he tilts his head, you can see the exaggerated innocence in his expression -as if he hasn't planned this just to make you squirm.

"Oh, my dear" he drawls, voice dripping with mock sympathy.

"Do you think you're prepared to repent?"

You bite your lip and nod, trying not to let him see how affected you already are... But Alastor, being Alastor, can read you like an open book.

"Now, now" he whispers as he moves closer and closer, each step echoing in the empty chapel.

"You know it is a sin to lie, don't you?"

The long, flowing skirt swishes as he approaches you, but before you have time to register his new proximity, two gloved hands start trailing down your arms -featherlight touches that leave shivers in their wake.

The tension is electric and also amplified by his obvious delight in the whole charade.

Your breath hitches when he presses a hand against your lower back, guiding you toward the altar. The cold stone at your back contrasts with the warmth radiating from him.

He pauses. Then he leans down, lips hovering just by the shell of your ear, breath hot against your skin.

"Perhaps" he muses, "I should help you see the… error of your ways."

Your pulse quickens dangerously as Alastor closes the gap between you, pressing against you while both his hands come to rest on hips. His grin broadens, eyes narrowing with that familiar spark of wickedness and mischief.

"Let's see, my dear..." he murmurs, his voice taking on a playful edge, "Are you nervous? Or just… excited?"

His gloved fingers trace your collarbone, slipping down to rest just over where your heart is. The fabric of the glove -smooth and cool- presses firmly against your skin, while his gaze flicks up to meet yours with an intensity that nearly steals your breath away.

"You're shaking" he notes, amber eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "How delightful."

You scoff, hoping to mask the way he makes your heart race uncontrollably.

"And here I thought you were supposed to be the virtuous one."

Alastor's laugh is rich and dark. He liked that little statement quite a lot.

The roleplaying is fun, but he's getting a bit impatient... Not that he's going to let it show. No, no, no.

"Confess."

Damn, you were looking forward to this.

On your knees before him, you press your palms together and look up at him through your eyelashes.

"Forgive me, Father..." you whisper, trembling with anticipation you can barely contain. "...for I have sinned.

Alastor chuckles, crouching until his face is perfectly level with yours. His hand slides beneath your chin in a smooth motion, tilting your face upward so you have no choice but to meet his gaze.

"Oh, darling" he purs, stroking your cheek with his thumb. "Sin doesn't frighten me. In fact, I'd say I encourage sin!"

His smile stretches wider -if that's even possible. "Now, tell me... What exactly have you done?"

You open your mouth, but no words come. Instead you lean into his touch, lips parting as his thumb presses past them. Your tongue swirls, tastes, explores, the sensation earning a soft hum of approval from him.

"That's a good girl" he murmurs, withdrawing his hand slowly and deliberately, like he doesn't really want the moment to end. You did leave a lipstick stain on the glove, which makes you oddly proud.

"But I think you've been bad enough to warrant a little... punishment. Hm?"

Before you can react, he drags you to your feet, spinning you to face the altar.

His hands waste no time whatsoever, tearing your dress over your head and leaving you bare. The cool air of the chapel makes your overheated skin prickle, but nothing compares to the sharp sting of his palm as it strikes your ass.

"You dare to stand here like this...", he hisses in a voice that's dripping with mock indignation, "in a place of worship, no less, without the common decency of putting on underwear? Shameless, filthy slut."

You gasp as another sharp smack rings through the room, your body jerking helplessly against the altar.

"I-"

"No excuses." he cuts you off, his hand smoothing over the reddened skin he's just punished. Meanwhile, his other hand finds its way between your thighs, sliding effortlessly through the wetness there.

"This is what you came here for, isn't it? To be debased?"

"Y- Yes..." you whimper, the word tumbling from your lips before you can stop it.

"Say. It. Louder." Alastor's gloved fingers still, hovering just where you currently need them the most.

"Yes" you moan, your voice rising. "I want this- I want you."

A growl rumbles low in his chest as he slides two fingers into you. His pace quickly becomes unrelenting, every curl and thrust designed to unravel you completely.

"Look at you" he taunts, withdrawing his fingers and holding them up, glistening with your wet arousal. "So needy. So eager to pay for your sins."

Once again, there's barely any time to process his words... before he frees himself from the confines of his habit. The sight of his cock -thick, slightly curved upward, flushed and already dripping- makes your knees buckle.

But he's not done teasing.

"Do you see this?" he asks, gripping the base of his cock as he presses the mushroom tip against your folds, dragging it up and down but never quite pushing in. "This is your reward. But only if you beg for it."

You let out a choked moan, writhing against him.

"Please" you gasp. "Please, Alastor. I need you. I need you to ruin me."

"Oh, you're so convincing!" he mocks, but the rasp in his voice betrays his own growing desire.

Finally, he thrusts into you, filling you completely in one devastating motion. Your body arches against him, a strangled sound ripping from your throat as he sets a brutal, unyielding pace.

"You take me so well" he growls, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to leave marks. "Like you were made for this. Made for me."

His words only encourage you more, your body moving in sync with his now. The slick, obscene sounds of your deed echo through the chapel, mingling with the faint creak of wood beneath you.

The expression behind his eyes is sharp and feral as his shadow comes to life, slithering across the room. You feel the darkness around your wrists, squeezing them and guiding them behind your back. The demon's voice is a velvety purr in your ear, taunting you as he slows down his thrusts.

"Oh my goodness... Let's see how much you can take."

The shadow dissolves and his movements start becoming faster again.

Alastor starts leaning over you, until his chest presses against the valley of your back. One hand tangles in your hair, yanking your head up to force your gaze forward. "Look at the altar. Look at what you've defiled."

You can barely think, let alone obey, but your gaze does its best to focus on what he's fucking you on.

"You're mine" he growls, his other hand sliding down to grip your throat. The pressure is just enough to heighten your sensations without blocking your breathing.

"Say it."

"I'm yours" you gasp, the words tumbling out willingly. "Only yours."

The slight restriction you feel at his long fingers around the column of your neck -paired with the significant pressure of his cock- has you reeling, the tight coil in your belly snapping as your climax crashes over you. Your filthy cries fill the chapel, raw and unrestrained.

Not only that, but the way your pussy muscles clench around him send Alastor over the edge with you.

With an animalistic groan, he buries himself as deep as he can go inside you, spilling his release in hot, pulsing waves. The warmth of it makes you mewl, but his grip on you doesn't falter even at this moment.

For a bit, the two of you stay like this, bodies trembling as you try to catch your breaths. Then, with a low chuckle, Alastor withdraws, adjusting his habit as though nothing happened.

"You're a mess" he proceeds to say, his grin as sharp as ever. "But what a sinfully beautiful mess you are."

You huff, pulling your dress back on with shaky hands. "You're impossible."

"And you adore it, sugar" he replies.

"Shall we continue this... little charade next week?"

You smirk, your legs still unsteady as you head for the door. "Only if you're ready to confess your own sins, Alastor."

His laughter follows you all the way out.

Um... Justify my sins 🤧 -> PayPal link

🔮Hazbin Hotel masterlist🔮

This work is part of the nymph's daily gifts! 💜

Dividers by @saradika-graphics.

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reallyprofoundkryptonite · 9 months ago

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Alright so it is, in fact, fishy month. However, I have been, as of recent, CRAVING some mer!Krogan roleplay so like uhhh. Dm me or whatever if you wanna do that ig? I will only rp with Krogan as my main but I am okay with both ocs or canon characters. Mer aus are great too! Since that is the theme of this post kutdkutdkytckytc perhaps planning to use a new siren!Krogan au I have been plotting over for a while but we shall see.

I am alright with ships. (Even romantic ones) though NSFW is not… exactly my cup of tea so uh. Yeah. Shipping probably won’t be the forefront of the roleplay but I’m good with it becoming a thing as Krogan interacts with the character(s) you are playing later down the line

Also I would like for my partner to be able to smack in at least one or two paragraphs.

If you want more info about my roleplay and stuff here’s a link to my boundaries: https://www.tumblr.com/reallyprofoundkryptonite/738359399605747712/reblogging-this-um-like-thisreblog-it-if-you?source=share

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cowboywithacunt · 8 months ago

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CONTENT WARNING ;

This blog is an 18+ only kink/nsfw blog. I'm going to be posting explicit text and images. Please be aware that some of my kinks may be triggering to others! A full list of my kinks and limits are under the cut.

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RULES BYF ;

🐄 DNI: Men DNI blogs, detrans/misgendering/trans fetishization blogs run by cis people, cishet men, weight loss/thinspo blogs, feederism blogs, MAPs, minors and ageless blogs

🐎 My asks and dms are open to anyone! Please respect my boundaries, and don't send me stuff that involves kinks I list as a limit. Also be aware that I might not always respond! Sometimes I just ain't got the energy, don't know what to say, am offline, or just aren't interested at the moment. I'm fine with sexting, pics, and roleplaying. Do not message me several more times if I don't respond to your first message.

🐄 I block liberally! It's nothing personal, just how I curate my experience. Please don't circumvent blocks for any reason.

🐎 Feel free to claim an emoji, but I will remove you from the claimed emojis list if you don't send anything for a long while. It's nothing personal, just a way of keeping organized! If you start sending asks again I'll put you right back on.

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INFO ABOUT ME ;

🐎 I'm Harvey! 22, transgender (FtM), he/him, bisexual, country boy who's learned to embrace it as a thing people are into lol. Currently living on the west coast, originally from Georgia. I'm fat and hairy and masc, take it or leave it. 5'5". Deer boy tbh 🦌

🐄 I'm strictly masc, have been on T for about 4 years, and I got top surgery done last summer. I don't have bottom surgery, and probably never will.

🐎 I'm happy to be a dom or sub for any and all genders! I enjoy both roles equally. Same goes for topping and bottoming. I'm about as versatile as a guy can get!

🐄 Asks and dms are open to anyone who's interested!

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KINKS, FETISHES, ETC ;

🐎 CNC; includes rape play, dubcon, somnophilia, intoxication, primal play, and kidnapping.

🐄 Fauxcest; may include some ageplay elements, such as MILFs/DILFs, cougars, etc.

🐎 Humiliation and degradation; includes exhibitionism, voyeurism, pet play, free use, force fem/masc, misgendering, and detrans.

🐄 Monster fucking; werewolves, vampires, tentacles, you get the picture. May include non-human genitalia references.

🐎 BDSM; mostly pertains to bondage, but some light impact play might also be present. Nothing beyond spanking or slapping!

🐄 Overstimulation and understimulation; too many orgasms and not enough orgasms. Edging included in this.

🐎 Breeding; including impregnation of others, not of myself.

🐄 Misc; wilderness sex, cowboys/rednecks, putting city assholes in their place, T4T, bears, butches, sex toys, fighting for dominance, light gun/knife play, medical settings, older men/women, trans supremacy, furries, leather. Open to trying new things!

🐎 I do not tag any of these on reblogs! If you genuinely cannot stomach one or more of these things, just do your mental health a favor and don't follow me. Keep yourself safe!

🐄 Please keep in mind that all fantasies I post about are in the context of consensual roleplay between adults.

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LIMITS ;

🐎 Heavy blood, gore, death, necrophilia.

🐄 Scat, watersports, emetophilia. Very light omorashi stuff is fine.

🐄 Choking, beating.

🐎 Detrans/misgendering directed at me.

🐎 DDLG and similar kinks that focus on infantalization.

🐄 Race play; if someone wants to call me a stupid little white boy or something, that's fine, but anything even edging towards white supremacy isn't cool with me

🐎 It's okay if you're into the above things! I won't yuck somebody's yum. You can follow and interact. Just please don't send me asks or dms involving those kinks, and be aware that I may not follow back if you post a lot of one of these.

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TERMINOLOGY FOR ME I'M OKAY WITH ;

🐎 Sir, mister, bitch, faggot, whore, slut, masc terms, sweetheart, darling, buck

🐄 Dick, cock, t-dick, clit, cunt, pussy, chest, hole(s)

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TERMINOLOGY FOR ME I'M NOT OKAY WITH ;

🐎 Daddy, puppy, fem terms

🐄 Tits, boobs, vagina, front hole

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If you're not sure about something, just ask! I don't bite!

#pin

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thismaneatsdrywall · 6 months ago

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okay uhh. Post thingy.

- feel free to send in starters, please don’t be shy. Asks preferred.

- i may at some point put starters for my own aus.

that should be it ig. Have fun.

#pinned #mod maea #httyd ask blog #httyd rtte #httyd au #race to the edge #viggo/krogan #krogan #ooc #roleplay #httyd rp

0 notes

circusclownsam · 2 years ago

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S1E8

The house gothi n Stoick are infront of?

Pretty sure that’s Mildews house from the DOB and ROB series.

Dunno tho.

#roleplay #oc tag #httyd series #how to train a dragon 2 #httyd 2 #httyd #httyd rtte #httyd race to the edge

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scaredyspooks · 5 months ago

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BG3 Kinktober 2024

Because I'm a perverted conduit that the void speaks through, I'm doing a Baldur's Gate 3 themed kinktober this year on here and AO3. As I publish the fics I'll be updating this list with links to them, and so y'all can gauge your interest here's the list!

Astarion (spawn) - roleplay - what's an innocent magistrate to do when his assistant propositions him when they're staying late at work?

Gale - pegging - growing bored of the wizard's endless accounts of how he and his goddess' bodies once intertwined, you notice there's one pleasure she never showed him.

Shadowheart - sensory depravation - life's greatest pleasures can be found in loss and darkness.

Lae'Zel - leather - peeling the leathers from your lover's body are one of the greatest rewards of battle.

Wyll - chastity - just because he wants to take things slow, doesn't mean you can't torment him a little.

Karlach - temperature play - attempts to cool her down end up having an interesting result.

Minthara - bondage - an interrogation goes south as you try to get to the bottom of the Absolute's cult.

Halsin - olfactophilia - after almost a tenday of not having time to bathe you head to the river, only be blocked off by a large elf.

Mizora - public - shrouded in the cloak of the hells atop a secluded pedestal, only to find it is in fact a stage.

Rolan - electro - someone's ego boost at getting a new tower has him coming out of his shell.

Zevlor - glory hole - the commander and the cleric need a release, things get interesting when the stranger behind the wall ends up being far too familiar.

Ikaron - semi-public - tensions are high in The Hollow, but you think you can help.

Raphael - naked platter - the devil has made a patisserie of you for his guests, though they seem to fade from existence as he grows distracted by the meal he's making of you.

Haarlep - size difference - the succubus is shocked that you want to see their true form, turns out they're a lot bigger than their master.

Rugan - impact play - the Zhentarim seeks to punish you for trying to skip out on your deal, he doesn't get very far.

Gortash - power play - your relationship has always been somewhat of a dance, one that you're determined to lead.

Dammon - edging - the forge's flames illuminate more than the smith realises, but you're happy to "help" once things quieten down.

The Emperor - hypnosis - the ilithid believes he can still get through to you, with one last attempt.

Aradin - hate fuck - your competitor, the thorn in your side, but damn if he doesn't have good stamina.

Abdirak - sado-masochism - two priests of Loviatar aid in each other's prayer.

He Who Was - free use - his ability to travel the shadowcursed lands unhindered has him popping up everywhere, making you pay for his insatiable desires.

Lia - wax play - after the first few drops, it's hard to tell what's blush and what's burn among the giggles in the Elfsong.

Cal - play fighting - a little extra training won't do any harm, though the proximity may prove... challenging.

Gale - findom - what starts as a simple shopping trip to Sorcerous Sundries takes a turn as you drag the wizard to more and more shops.

Astarion (ascended) - biting/marking - your last night as a mortal will be one to remember.

Shadowheart - human furniture - god's favourite princess needs a throne.

Wyll - roleplay - the son of a duke has a duty to mingle at these important events, though it usually shouldn't lead him to a cupboard with a handsome stranger.

Lae'Zel - predator/prey - your heart races, your breathing to quick to catch, and you know the more you sweat the easier it'll be for her to catch you.

Karlach - human ashtray - she's been making fun of you all evening for your drunken confession about her cigars, but once the other's go to bed she's happy to indulge you on the Elfsong's roof garden.

Halsin - breeding - ever the beast of nature, with your perils finally at an end he lets himself run loose with you and you realise it’s going to be a long night until he’s done filling you.

Minthara - body worship - the drow isn't keen onbeing nursed after but with injuries so severe you need to make sure she's alright.

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linos-luna · 1 year ago

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Odd Fantasy ❣️

Yeonjun x Reader

Warnings: roleplay? CNC, rough sex, spanking, hair pulling, HARD KINK ?

—————————————————— 🤍

It’s a slow boring Sunday and you found yourself doing laundry. While waiting, you sat in the living room with your boyfriend. He was supposed to be watching tv but was more interested in what you were inquiring about. Something you read about online.

“It’s really not that weird.” Yeonjun said with a chuckle.

“It just seems like a weird thing to get pleasure from.”

“Well it’s roleplay, baby.” He said with a shrug. “It’s in a controlled environment and admittedly… kinda sexy.”

“Sexy?” You said, quite baffled as you got up to get the laundry. “Not sure about that.”

“What, you don’t find it sexy?” Yeonjun smirked while grabbing your waist from behind and getting close to your ear. “Just a helpless girl… home alone… when a man swoops in and shows you who’s boss…”

“N-no…” you chuckled nervously. “Not sure I like pretending to be robbed.”

“Yeah? But it’d be agreed upon beforehand. It’d be safe.” Yeonjun said while rubbing his hand up your thigh. “Just imagine…”

You blushed at the feeling, whimpering a bit as he got closer to the crotch of your pants.

“…Just a helpless girl… minding her business when someone comes in… bends her over… and fucks her good…” he smirked while rubbing your sensitive area. “… but she loves it… because she’s never felt so good…”

“M-mhm…” you stuttered before he suddenly let go, making you whine a little.

“But of course, it’s not for everyone.” He teased. “Not everyone is kinky like that. Now go get the laundry, sweetheart.”

You paused and blinked momentarily, completely forgetting about the laundry. “Y-yeah… let me go get that…” you said awkwardly before stepping out.

You thought about what he said while going to the laundry room of your apartment complex. After getting the clothes and returning to the apartment, you put them on the bed. As you were about to fold them, you realized you hadn't seen your boyfriend since you got back.

“Yeonjun…?” You called out while walking back to the living room to look for him. After a bit of searching you went back to the bedroom.

Suddenly, you felt a presence behind you and before you could react, you were grabbed. Pressed against a chest and a hand on your mouth. In a panic, you struggled but it was useless as he was strong.

“Hi darling, I’ve been waiting for you.” The voice said. It was Yeonjun. “Hold still.”

You groaned a bit, trying to say something but his grip was tight. You then tried moving, only for him to sternly jerk you.

“I said hold still!” He said sternly.

You whined and tried moving again, only for him to pull your hair.

“When I say hold still, you hold still!”

Your heart was racing from his stern tone, he’s never spoken to you like that before. It made you freeze but also… excited?

“Good girl…” he smirked while pushing you to the bed, bending you over the edge and yanking your pants down.

“J-Junnie??!”

“Shut up!” A suddenly spank to your ass shut you up really quick, only making you whimper.

“Jun—!”

“Shut up!” He repeated, now pulling down your underwear and lowering his pants and boxers while pinning your hands against your back with one hand.

“You’re gonna take my cock like a good girl, yeah?” He grunted while entering your cunt, surprised that it was already very wet.

“M-mmhm—”

He spanks you harshly and you cry out.

“Yes!”

Yeonjun was pretty satisfied and harshly thrusted, giving no time for adjustment.

“F-fuck! Yeonjun!” You moaned loudly as he mercilessly railed you into the bed. “F-fuck fuck fuck!”

“Taking me well…” he grunts. “You like it, huh?”

It was hard to respond as your mind went to mush. His hips thrusted so hard that the bed would move and sound of skin slapping echoed off the walls. He hit that bundle of nerves over and over, making you lose it. But he wasn’t lying; you loved it.

“Agh—! Fuck—! Jun—!” You moaned louder as he continued pounding you.

The feeling was so exhilarating. You were aroused by his words and enjoyed how rough he was. It opened a new feeling you never thought you could feel from a moment like this.

“Dirty girl… you love this shit!” He laughed deviously as he felt you squeeze around him, getting closer to your high.

Your eyes rolled back as you finally released. Before you could relax, Yeonjun pulled out and flipped you over.

He pumped his length a few times before releasing on your stomach, then putting his hands to your neck, choking you lightly.

“You like that, baby?” He panted, getting close to your face as his cock rubbed against your sensitive cunt. “What’s wrong, darling?”

“J-junnie—!” You whined as his cock was overstimulating you. The lightheadedness from his grip also felt euphoric. “F-fuck…” you panted, sounding almost as if you were giggling a bit from the high.

“Mmhm?” He smirked while giving sloppy, open mouth kisses to your parted lips. “More? You want more, right dirty girl?”

You couldn’t respond, only holding his wrist and gasping to catch your breath as he continued choking you. He only let go when it seemed you were on the verge of passing out.

You gasped when he let go, trying to get your vision to focus on him.

A complete 180 from his rough demeanor just a minute ago, Yeonjun leaned over you and gently rubbed your cheek.

“Did you like that, babygirl?” He asked while kissing your forehead. “Did I please you~?”

“Mmhm.” You responded, still sounding high.

“Would you like it again sometime?” He asked softly.”

You only nodded, still lost in pleasure. Yeonjun thought you were adorable and kissed at your neck, hoping to leave some marks behind. You closed your eyes while feeling his soft plump lips against your neck. It felt heavenly…

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misshoneyimhome · 7 days ago

Note

Willy has been begging you to introduce roleplay into your sexual life, and you’ve been brushing him off acting nonchalantly. When he comes home from a long trip, you surprise him in a schoolgirl costume, turning his wildest fantasy into reality. Willy x Inexperienced reader

Oh, hello there, babe! 🥰 How I’ve missed the inexperienced!reader x Willy, so what better way to welcome William back from a roadie than with a little naughty, cheeky fun? 😉😏

As is often the case, I started writing this, and before I knew it, the story took on a life of its own… 🙈 Hopefully, it ticks some boxes for those William x schoolgirl fantasies out there 💕

Happy reading, love! 💕

Tropes & warnings: Inexperienced!reader x Willy, established relationship, school girl outfit, slightly dom!willy (nothing much though), fingering, oral sex (f receiving), sex toy (butt plug), unprotected sex (p in v), cum inside.

Word count: 3.7K

➼｡ﾟ

A Lesson in Desire | inexperienced!reader x William Nylander ✐☆

You’d heard William’s teasing requests countless times. Always with that mischievous smirk, he’d throw out suggestions—little comments about spicing things up, adding a bit of roleplay to your already exciting relationship. At first, you’d brushed them off, laughing nervously and changing the subject. But deep down, a part of you was curious, wondering what it would be like to let go and dive into one of his fantasies. Or well… another one.

And tonight, you were finally giving in.

It had taken some courage—and a lot of Googling—but you’d pieced together the perfect outfit: a pleated plaid skirt that barely skimmed the tops of your thighs, a white button-up shirt tied just above your waist to reveal a strip of skin, and white knee-high socks. To top it all off, you’d found a thin black tie and a pair of low heels that gave you an innocent yet seductive air. A pair of white lace panties hid underneath the skirt—a detail you were sure William would appreciate later.

You checked your reflection in the bedroom mirror, smoothing the skirt nervously. The outfit was more revealing than anything you’d ever worn (if we don’t consider lingerie), but it made you feel bold, powerful even. If this was what William wanted, you were ready to deliver. You were his “good girl” most of the time, but tonight, you’d be anything but.

The sound of keys jingling in the lock snapped you out of your thoughts. He was home.

Your heart raced as you positioned yourself in the living room, perched delicately on the edge of the sofa. Crossing your legs, you let the skirt ride up just enough to reveal a teasing hint of thigh. You twirled the end of your tie between your fingers, trying to calm your nerves as you heard the shuffle of his footsteps in the hallway.

When he stepped through the door, still wearing his travel-worn hoodie and track pants, his eyes immediately locked on you—and froze.

“Babe,” he started, his voice faltering as his bag slipped from his hand to the floor with a soft thud. His expression was a mix of surprise and intrigue, his mouth slightly parted as he drank in the sight before him.

You tilted your head innocently, letting the tie slip from your fingers. “Welcome home, Mr. Nylander,” you said sweetly, your voice carrying just a hint of playfulness as you rose slowly from the sofa. “You’ve been gone so long, I thought it was time for a… special lesson.”

His reaction was instantaneous. His blue eyes darkened, his jaw tightening as a slow, wicked grin spread across his face. He took a step closer, his gaze raking over every inch of your outfit. “Is this real?” he asked, his voice low, almost disbelieving. “Or am I imagining this because I’m exhausted?”

You bit your lip, feigning innocence as you spread your arms slightly, letting him take in the full effect of your outfit. “Does it look like you’re imagining it?”

His hand ran through his hair as he let out a short laugh, the sound low and rich. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?” His steps were slow but deliberate as he closed the distance between you, stopping so close you could feel the heat radiating off him. “Where’d you get the idea for this?”

“Well,” you said softly, keeping your tone teasing, “you’ve been asking for something like this for months. Thought it was time I listened.”

His fingers brushed against your exposed thigh, just beneath the hem of the skirt, sending a shiver up your spine. His touch was light, barely there, but enough to make you tremble. His gaze flicked back to yours, sparkling with delight at your reaction. “You have no idea what you’ve just done, älskling,” he murmured, his voice a mix of amusement and raw hunger.

You shrugged lightly, leaning back against the sofa, your heart pounding as you met his gaze head-on. “Guess you’ll have to teach me.”

That was all it took. In one smooth motion, he bent down, hooking his arms under your knees and lifting you effortlessly into his arms. You let out a soft gasp, instinctively wrapping your arms around his neck as he carried you toward the bedroom. His grip was firm yet gentle, and the intensity in his eyes left no doubt about where the night was headed.

“Lesson number one,” he said, voice low and thick with desire as he kicked the bedroom door shut behind him, “you don’t tease me unless you’re ready for the consequences.”

Your stomach flipped in anticipation, a mix of excitement and nerves flooding your senses as he set you down gently on the edge of the bed. His hands lingered on your waist, his fingers brushing the exposed skin beneath the tied shirt.

“Well,” you said, breathless but bold, “guess I’ll have to take my punishment then.”

His grin widened, his eyes darkening as he leaned in, his lips finding yours in a kiss that was anything but gentle. It was possessive, hungry, and full of promise—one that left you clinging to him, your heart racing in time with the heat building between you. This was exactly what you’d wanted: to give him his fantasy and, in doing so, discover something new about yourself too.

“You’ve been teasing me for weeks,” he murmured, his voice thick with a mixture of amusement and desire. “Brushing me off like I wasn’t serious.”

You smirked, emboldened by his reaction. “Maybe I just wanted to see how patient you could be.”

His laugh was low, dark. “Oh, I’ll show you how patient I can be.”

When he pulled back, his gaze was molten. “This outfit,” he said, tugging lightly at the tie, “is going to be the death of me.”

You couldn’t help but smile, your cheeks flushed. “I thought you’d like it.”

“Oh, I don’t just like it,” he murmured, his voice dropping. “I love it.”

With that he didn’t waste another second. His hands moved to undo the tie, sliding it free with a precision that made your breath hitch. As he laid you back against the bed, the skirt rode up to reveal even more skin. And as William hovered over you, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “Let’s see how good my favourite student can be,” you knew this lesson was one you’d never forget.

William’s words sent a shiver through your body, his warm breath tickling the shell of your ear. He leaned closer, his lips brushing against your jaw as he whispered, “You’ve always been so good for me. But now… let’s see how well you can really behave.”

Your breath hitched, your heart pounding as his hands slid up your thighs, lifting the pleated skirt higher. The fabric bunched at your hips, exposing the lacy white panties you’d chosen to complete the look. He paused for a moment, his eyes darkening as he took in the sight of you, his tongue flicking over his bottom lip.

“This…” he murmured, his voice low and rough, his fingers tracing along the edge of your panties. “This is better than I imagined.” His hand slipped beneath the fabric, grazing over your slick heat, and you let out a soft gasp, your back arching slightly at the contact.

“Willy…” you whispered, your voice trembling with a mix of nerves and anticipation.

He looked up at you, his blue eyes intense and searching. “Tell me you want it,” he said softly, his thumb brushing over your hip in a reassuring gesture. “Say you me to take care of you”

You nodded, your cheeks flushing at his tenderness. “I want you to take care of me.”

A smile tugged at the corner of his lips, and he leaned in to kiss you, this time slower, deeper. The warmth of his mouth on yours sent a wave of heat through your body, and you found yourself melting into him, your fingers curling into the soft fabric of his hoodie.

William pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his hand moving to unbutton the front of your blouse. “Let’s get this off, shall we?” he teased, his voice laced with amusement.

You bit your lip, nodding as he carefully unwrapped you, his fingers deftly working the buttons before slipping the blouse off your shoulders. The cool air brushed against your skin, and you felt the heat of his gaze as he took in the lacy white bra that matched your panties.

“You’re perfect,” he murmured, his hands sliding up your sides to cup your face. He kissed you again, his lips trailing down your neck, along your collarbone, and lower still until they hovered just above the edge of your bra.

He paused, looking up at you with a glint of mischief in his eyes. “You dressed up just for me, didn’t you?”

You nodded, your voice barely more than a whisper. “I wanted to surprise you.”

“You’ve done more than that,” he said, his tone thick with desire. “You’ve driven me absolutely crazy.”

He reached behind you, unclasping your bra with practiced ease, and let it fall away. His lips immediately found the soft skin of your chest, leaving a trail of heated kisses that made you squirm beneath him.

As his mouth worked its magic, his hand slid back down to your thigh, hooking under your knee to pull you closer. You could feel the growing hardness pressing against you, the evidence of just how much he wanted you.

“Willy…” you whimpered, your voice trembling as his fingers dipped beneath the waistband of your panties again, this time sliding lower to explore the heat of your folds. His touch was gentle but purposeful, coaxing soft gasps and moans from your lips.

“You’re so wet,” he murmured, his voice a mix of awe and pride. “All for me?”

You nodded, barely able to form words as he worked you over with expert precision. “Yes… all for you.”

His lips found yours again, silencing your soft cries as his fingers moved with more intent, circling your clit and dipping inside you in a rhythm that left you breathless. The pressure built steadily, your body responding to every stroke, every touch, every whisper of his name.

And when he finally pushed you over the edge, your release was a soft, shuddering wave that left you clinging to him, your body trembling from the intensity of it.

William held you through it, his touch never faltering, his kisses never ceasing. And as you came down from the high, he pressed his forehead to yours, his voice soft and full of adoration.

“I’m not done with you yet,” he promised, his lips curving into a wicked grin. “Lesson’s not over.”

William shifted, his movements slow and deliberate as he took a few steps back to undress himself, his eyes never leaving yours. The way he looked at you—possessive yet tender, hungry yet adoring—sent a fresh wave of anticipation surging through your body.

“Ready for next lesson?” he asked, his voice low and velvety, the question laced with genuine care.

You nodded, your breath hitching as his hands traced a path down your sides, his touch warm and grounding. “Yes. Please, Mr. Nylander,” you murmured, the words barely audible.

His grin turned smug, and he leaned down to kiss you deeply, his tongue sweeping across yours in a way that made your toes curl. The heat of his body pressed against yours, the weight of him grounding you in the moment. When he pulled back, his fingers slipped under the waistband of your panties, the lace dragging against your skin as he slowly slid them down your legs.

William tossed the delicate fabric aside, his gaze dropping to your bare core. He paused, taking you in with a reverence that made your cheeks flush. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured, the sincerity in his voice making your heart stutter.

You shifted under his gaze, a mix of bashfulness and arousal washing over you. “Stop staring,” you teased softly, though your voice lacked conviction.

“Can’t help it,” he replied, his hand gliding up your thigh. “I’ve been dreaming about this moment.”

He leaned down, pressing soft kisses along your inner thighs, each one closer to where you ached for him most. His beard, slightly scruffy after his trip, added a delicious friction that made you squirm. The way he took his time, teasing you with light touches and kisses, left you breathless.

When his mouth finally found your core, the heat of his tongue against your slick folds made you gasp, your back arching off the bed. His hands held your hips firmly, keeping you in place as he licked and sucked, his movements purposeful and unrelenting. Every swirl of his tongue, every gentle nip of his teeth against your clit, sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you.

“Willy… oh my God,” you whimpered, your fingers tangling in his hair as he continued his assault on your senses.

He hummed in response, the vibration making you cry out, your body trembling beneath him. He worked you with a precision that left you teetering on the edge, the pressure building with every pass of his tongue and stroke of his fingers.

When your climax hit, it was overwhelming, your body convulsing as waves of pleasure rolled through you. He stayed with you, coaxing every last tremor from your body, his hands soothing against your skin as you came down from the high.

You barely had time to catch your breath before he was moving up your body, his lips capturing yours in a heated kiss that tasted of you. The hard length of him pressed against your thigh, a reminder of just how much he wanted you.

“Your turn,” you murmured, your voice still trembling from the lingering intensity of your climax.

He let out a low, rough chuckle, the sound sending a shiver through your already sensitive body. “Oh, don’t worry, älskling,” he said, his voice thick with promise, his words laced with mischief. “We’re nowhere near finished.”

With deliberate movements, William reached for the nightstand, retrieving something you hadn’t seen in a while—the sleek little diamond-tipped buttplug. Your breath caught at the sight of it, your heart racing in anticipation of the added sensation it promised.

William’s smirk deepened as he returned to position, a bottle of lubricant in hand. He kneeled between your legs, his eyes dark with intent as they locked onto yours. “Relax, älskling,” he murmured, his tone a mix of reassurance and playful dominance. “This is just to make it even better—for both of us. And to teach you lesson number two: if you start something, you better be ready for me to finish it. My way.”

His confidence and the glint of challenge in his gaze left you breathless, anticipation coiling low in your belly as he leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your lips before guiding you into his plans.

“You’ve been such a good girl tonight,” he murmured. His voice was soft, almost tender, but the edge of authority in his tone made your pulse race. “But good girls don’t tease their boyfriends for weeks and think they’ll get away with it.” His eyes gleamed with playful intent as he leaned down, brushing his lips against yours in a kiss that was slow and deliberate, leaving you breathless.

His hands skimmed down your body, trailing over your curves with a reverence that made your cheeks flush. When his fingers reached your hips, he tilted his head, his gaze locking with yours. “You trust me, don’t you?” he asked, his voice a little softer now, his thumb brushing a soothing circle against your skin.

You nodded, swallowing hard. “Always.”

That seemed to satisfy him, and he pressed another kiss to your lips, this one deeper, filled with a promise that sent a thrill through you. “Good,” he murmured against your mouth, his hands urging you to turn onto your stomach.

You obeyed, the cool sheets brushing against your heated skin as you settled into position. Your heart was pounding, a mix of nerves and excitement swirling within you as he spread your legs slightly, his warm hands grounding you with their firm yet gentle touch.

He reached for the lubricant, squeezing a small amount onto his fingers. “Relax for me, älskling,” he said softly, his tone reassuring as he trailed his fingers along your lower back and down to the cleft of your cheeks. The first cool touch of the lubricant against your sensitive skin made you shiver, but his hands moved with such care that the tension in your body began to melt away.

“You’re doing so well,” he murmured, his praise sending a rush of warmth through you. “So beautiful.”

His fingers moved with expert precision, preparing you slowly, his touch never straying into discomfort. And when he finally pressed the plug into place, you gasped, the cool metal igniting every nerve in your body.

“Perfect,” William said, his voice thick with pride as he leaned back to admire his work. His hands soothed over your hips, grounding you once more before he flipped you back onto your back. The slight shift in position heightened the sensation, and you bit your lip, your breath hitching as his gaze swept over you.

“You’re my stunning little student, aren’t you,” he whispered, leaning down to capture your lips in a searing kiss. The weight of his body pressed against yours, grounding you further as his hand slid between your thighs, finding the slick heat of your core. His touch was electric, his fingers stroking and teasing in a rhythm that had you arching into him, desperate for more.

“Willy…” you whimpered, your voice trembling as his fingers worked you over with unrelenting precision.

“Shh,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your temple. “Just relax, älskling. Let me take care of you.”

And he did. He took his time, his touch building you up again with a slow, deliberate intensity that left you trembling. But he still wasn’t done.

William then shifted, aligning himself with you as he pressed the head of his cock against your entrance. “Ready?” he asked, his voice a low rumble.

You nodded, your voice barely a whisper. “Yes, please, sir.”

He grinned, his hands gripping the sheets on either side of you as he slowly pushed into you, filling you completely with one deliberate thrust. The combination of his deep, satisfying fullness and the added pressure from the plug left you gasping, your body arching instinctively toward him. Your fingers clutched at his shoulders, seeking grounding amidst the overwhelming sensation as he began to move.

His pace was slow and measured at first, each thrust purposeful, designed to drive you higher with every roll of his hips. The weight of his body against yours, the way his gaze locked onto your face as you writhed beneath him—it all added to the heat building between you. Each movement sent sparks coursing through your body, the sensations amplified by the plug, which added a delicious fullness you’d missed.

But as the tension between you escalated, William’s control began to slip. His pace quickened, his thrusts growing more urgent, each one deeper and more insistent than the last. His grip on the sheets tightened, his jaw clenched as he chased his own release, every muscle in his body working toward that shared goal. The sound of skin meeting skin filled the room, mingling with your breathless moans and the soft, guttural groans spilling from his lips.

The combination of his relentless rhythm, the fullness of him inside you, and the added pressure from the plug was too much. The pleasure built rapidly, consuming every thought until your body reached its breaking point. With a sharp cry, you shattered, your climax crashing over you in wave after wave of intense pleasure. Your walls pulsed around him, drawing a deep, guttural groan from his throat as he continued to move, drawing out every last tremor of your release.

You clung to him, your fingers digging into his shoulders as your body trembled beneath his. The sheer intensity of the moment left you breathless, your head falling back as you gasped for air, every nerve still alive with sensation. Even as you came down, you could feel William’s tension, his movements becoming erratic as he edged closer to his own breaking point.

And when he finally found his climax, it was nothing short of overwhelming. A deep, guttural growl escaped his lips, vibrating against your skin as he buried himself to the hilt, his body shuddering above you. The warmth of him spilling inside you was a heady sensation, an intimate claim that left you gasping, the sheer intensity of it all sending another small ripple of pleasure coursing through your already sensitive body.

His forehead pressed against yours, his breath hot and uneven as he rode out the last waves of his release. His grip on the sheets softened, the tension in his body easing as he collapsed slightly, careful not to crush you under his weight. For a moment, the only sound in the room was the mingling of your breaths, both of you caught in the haze of satisfaction and intimacy.

William’s lips brushed your temple, his voice hoarse but full of warmth. “You’re incredible, älskling,” he murmured, the sincerity in his tone making your chest ache in the best way. “That was… everything.”

You smiled softly, your hands sliding down his back as you pulled him closer, reveling in the comfort of his embrace. “So worth the wait,” you whispered, your voice still a little breathless, earning a quiet chuckle from him.

He shifted slightly, his hand coming up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “I’d say you passed your lesson with perfect marks,” he teased, his grin returning, though there was nothing but adoration in his gaze.

“Good,” you replied, feeling a rush of boldness as you looked up at him. “Because I’d be happy to take a few more.”

His low laugh sent a pleasant shiver through you as he leaned down to kiss you again.

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