#regardless of what side you were on (the golden one or the fuck up).

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Words Collide

[First] Prev <--> Next

[jarofstyles]

Pressing Questions

We love new husbandrrry >:)

I hope you enjoy them and let me know your thoughts!

Check out our Patreon for early access and 190+ exclusive writings

WC- 4.4k

Warnings- exhibitionism, slight breeding kink, completely cute n flirty babies, husband x wife kink???

---

“Hey, husband?” 

“Yes, Wife?” It sounded so good coming from their lips. It made her borderline giddy as she looked over at him to find him already looking over at her. The flush she felt in her cheeks bled down to her chest. They were finally fucking married. 

“What made you decide you were marrying me?” Y/N asked as she lounged next to him. Their honeymoon in full swing, Harry had rented out a cabana with a daybed so he could cuddle up to her on the beach and Y/N was positive now that it was definitely one of many things he had up his sleeve. The aesthetic had been perfect to her Pinterest board, but she had a feeling Harry knew that.

Roses in the room, champagne upon arrival, brand new swimwear just for her… she had been absolutely spoiled since they landed. Just like he promised. 

The warm air flowed over their forms, her head resting on her bent arm as the other held the fruity cocktail she had drunk an embarrassing amount of in the last three days. Some kind of coconut and lime thing that had her feeling more giggly than she could remember being in most of her adult life, but she was safe here. Safe with Harry, just like she had been dreaming of. 

 Harry chuckled and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer to his chest. He traced a lazy circular pattern on her bare hip with his fingertips as he spoke, his voice low and deep. Slightly hushed, keeping it intimate. Just the way she liked it. It was like he was fine tuned to appear to each and every thing she found attractive- or somehow managed to make everything he did appeal to her. Either way, she felt her tummy flutter. 

"Darling, is this a trick question? Do you really think I only have one reason to marry you?”  Her husband acted like it was a ridiculous question but pressed a kiss to her forehead, giving her an answer regardless.  "You’re beyond beautiful, the funniest person I’ve ever met, smart as a tack... and you put up with all my ridiculous bullshit. All of those cliche reasons and more. Not t’mention you dealing with my insane schedule and giving me your honest opinions whenever I ask, even if they’re a little sassy.” Giving her a look, he got the laugh he wanted out of her before tilting his head in question. “Why wouldn’t I marry you?”

“I dunno, I just feel like…. I mean, I know I’m a catch.” She smirked, giving him a wink that she immediately regretted. At least she could be cringey with him and he would find it endearing. Her winks were not nearly as cute as his were.  “But was there a singular moment that you knew you were going to keep me?” His touch always did make her melt. 

Harry, ever the touchy and slightly clingy boyfriend- nay, husband-, couldn’t keep his hands off of her before they got married but… compared to this trip? Y/N was genuinely unsure there was a single moment without him with his touch somewhere on her body. It had been a little shocking at first but every single moment made her feel more addicted to the fingertips pressing into her, arms pulling her into his body or the lips ghosting her skin. The real problem would be when they got home and she couldn’t just have this on tap. 

Harry let out a deep breath, shifting to roll onto his side and propping his head up with his hand as he took in her beauty. The sun was giving her skin a warm, golden glimmer, and it took all his willpower not to pounce on her at that very moment and take her right there in the cabana.

"You want one singular moment, huh?" He hummed, pretending to think about it as his fingertips continued their slow path tracing her body. "There was this one time..."

Her breathing caught in her throat as his fingers took a lazy trail over her body. Harry had this way about him that had made her a little nervous with how attentive his gaze was, but even so… she loved that feeling. Like he was always clinging onto her last word. Even as her husband, he seemed to use this power to his advantage. 

“Mmm?” She asked, tossing back the final bit of her drink before fiddling with the cute little paper umbrella. “What time?”

His lips curled up into a small, smug smirk as he watched her react to his touch. He loved the power he had over her, the way his fingers seemed to make her breathless and her eyes got a little hazy. The way her body subconsciously arched into his touch.

Harry moved his hand from her hip, slowly tracing it up her side and over her ribcage, his touch so light that it almost tickled.  "It was very early on," he said, his voice low and husky. "We were at my place, just hanging out. You were wearing this… little fucking tank top." The way he said it made her know that he was thinking about that tank top to this day. Flattering, even if she couldn’t place the moment he was talking about.

She had to wrack her brain for a moment, trying to remember which day it was that he was referring to. The beginning days had been slightly hazy considering their romance had gone from tentative flirtation to a whirlwind as soon as the sexual dam had broken. 

“Which tank top?” 

Harry's smile grew wider as he saw her trying to remember. It was something he could never forget. "It was that little pink one, with the sexy little bit of lace at the neckline. Lacy straps, too," he said, his voice taking on a slightly dreamy tone as the memory played in his head. "It was so teeny tiny that I could see your bra through it..." Moving closer to her, his hand moved lower on her body, tracing over the soft, sensitive skin of her stomach. He knew exactly how he was affecting her. It was considered a bit of payback for said tank top.

"And those shorts you had on... so short that I could see your hips and legs… and the bottom of your bum when you moved the right way? Mm, I think you’ve always been so cruel with teasing me, baby.” The man obviously loved it though. There was no hiding that from her. 

Despite it being a private beach, Y/N felt the flutter of both fear and anticipation as he flirted with her so blatantly. Recalling a time she could definitely remember now, a movie night at his place where she had worn a matching pajama set that wasn’t outright sexy but… definitely was known to show off her body.

“Ohhhh. That one.” She grinned. “Seeing me in that made you know you were gonna marry me? Perv.”

“Hey now, I just appreciate beauty when I see it.” Harry countered with a laugh, acting slightly affronted as if his hand wasn’t now resting just over the waistband of her bikini. “So sue me for thinking y’looked incredible.”

 Moving even closer to her, his body pressed against hers as his lips brushed against her ear. His voice was sultry as he spoke, a little kiss pressed right underneath it.  “And I distinctly remember you wearing that little outfit just to drive me absolutely wild, you little minx. You can’t even deny it now. I know how that pretty head of yours works.”

Y/N snickered at the call out, knowing he was very much correct. She had done it to test him, to see how much he was willing to put up with back in the day, what would make him tick. He may call it teasing, but she called it an experiment for scientific research. 

“You are such a flirt today.” She took a moment to put the glass down before facing him again, carding her fingers through his wavy hair. The sea air did something to it that made her even more attracted to him, something she hadn’t realized possible until she had seen it herself. “But keep the memories coming.” Aka the compliments. She felt loved up and was very much in the mood to hear more. “What else did you think?”

Harry's eyes darkened slightly as her fingers ran through his hair. He loved it when she touched him like that, it sent shivers down his spine, making him want to lean into her like an eager pup awaiting pets. 

"Other things that cemented it?" He murmured, his hand on her hip giving her a gentle squeeze.  “There’s loads. Mm… I’d have t’say, the way you'd get all flustered when I teased you. The way you'd get all sarcastic and bratty when I annoyed you. How you were so confident and fiery, but at the same time so shy and sweet..." he trailed off, knowing he could go on for hours and hours when it came to what he loved about her. It was hard to get him to shut up about it, actually. 

“So you like when I’m bratty. That’s what I’m hearing.” She giggled, teasing him slightly despite him scolding her for it prior. “I think my moment was when you set up that whole thing on Valentine’s Day. Cause god knows you’ve got all the money in the world but you knew I hate fancy restaurants so you did like… the whole blanket fort thing. With the charcuterie board and champagne.” The dreamy sigh left her lips. It had stuck with her every day since. He may not even realize how important it had been for her, but Harry was the first person she’d dated who had ever made her feel that special. 

“You listened to me when I said what I liked. You got my favorite movie lined up and made me sweet and salty popcorn like I like. You even remembered you popped the wrong one and told me to wait and… I dunno.” She shrugged with her shy smile lighting up her face. “I knew I’d never find anyone else like you.”

Harry's gaze softened as she spoke, warmth spreading through his chest as she described his absolute favorite Valentine's Day. He hadn't known at the time it had been such a pivotal moment for her, but now it made perfect sense. His wife was sentimental that way. Something personal meant way more than the clothes he had bought her, or the house he’d got for them. His thoughts were everything to her.

He gave her a tender look, shaking his head, fingers tracing a gentle path along her arm. It was impossible to keep his touch from her, and he didn’t feel like trying. "You mean when I accidentally burned the salted popcorn?" He winced at the memory. It was a weird thing he always thought about, but in his defense the smell had been pretty bad. Thankfully he had air freshener on hand, though apple cinnamon didn’t exactly mask burnt popcorn. 

"Yeah, sorry about that. I was so focused on making sure everything was just right for you that I didn't pay enough attention to the microwave. Plus, your pretty face was distracting enough. Could barely form a proper sentence.”

The warmth flooded her tummy at the compliment, making her want to kiss him even more. It was held off considering she knew it would most definitely be something that got carried away, but that didn’t stop the urges. “I’ll be honest, I probably would have eaten the burnt popcorn. The fact that you’d even managed to remember those little facts about me had me like… giddy. I hadn’t felt that way about a crush since I was a teenager.” The admission came easily.  There was no shame in how much she loved Harry, even if she did tease him to say he was the clingy one. 

 Another question popped into her head, and considering he seemed happy to talk now that he’d had his beachside nap, she took advantage of it. “Were you nervous to propose?”

Harry's hand moved back and rested on her hip, his fingers rubbing over the soft skin as he answered immediately. 

"Nervous? Oh, absolutely. Fucking terrified, my love. Even though I knew you'd say yes, I was still nervous as hell." He let out a sweet hum,  softly, leaning in closer to her, his lips almost touching her ear as he spoke.  "The most nerve-wracking part was the time between when I proposed and when you actually said yes. It felt like the longest minute of my life..."

“You knew I’d say yes. C’mon, H.” Y/N’s giddy grin made it past her lips. It was weirdly satisfying to know he had been nervous because it meant he had been worried about the prospect of not being with her forever. It had always been her plan to say yes, but still. 

Harry chuckled again, his chest rumbling beneath her head "Yes, darling, I did know that." His hand slid under her chin, gently lifting her head to meet his gaze. How much he loved her was visible in his eyes. She’d never experienced visibly seeing love before him. 

"But that didn't stop me from being nervous. I was just so… desperate for you to say yes, to be mine forever. The thought of even a moment of hesitation..."

He shuddered slightly and his grip on her tightened ever so slightly "It would've killed me."

“Oh, baby.” She cooed, deciding to baby him a little bit. Hearing that vulnerability really did something to her, tangling her fingers into the hair at his nape. “I’ve been yours since you first kissed me. Y’know that?” Y/N had been completely smitten. It was borderline concerning until she had realized he felt the same. “I had the biggest crush on you when we first met. You only continue to get better and better every day.” 

Tossing her leg over her hip, she relaxed into his hold as she gazed over his pretty face. He’d let his stubble grow out a bit, albeit a bit patchy- the look suited him. “You’ve been my husband in my head for a long time. I don’t think I could have ever said no.”

Harry's heart skipped a beat as she spoke. He had always loved it when she got like this, all soft and gentle and sweet on him. It was hard not to be greedy for this sort of affection. The feeling of her tangling her fingers in his hair combined with the press of her body against his had a shiver running down his spine.

"S’That so?" He purred, his voice making her squirm. "Because you’ve been mine since the moment I saw you, darling. You were the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen in my life, and I knew I had to have you. You belong with me, you always have."

The slight possessive speak made her throat thicken, tummy warm, between her thighs throb a little bit. The tenderness in which he spoke had her melting and it had nothing to do with the beachy heat. This was exactly why she knew she had made the perfect choice with him.  Her body knew it was him before her head even did. Her heart? Even before that. “Yeah? I’m yours?” She cooed, brushing her nose against his.

Harry groaned softly as she brushed her nose against his, his eyes falling half-lidded. "Mmm, yeah. You are. You're mine. All mine."

His voice was a low rumble, his grip on her tightening as he spoke. "No one else will ever touch you, darling. You belong to me. I won't ever share you, no part of you is for anyone else but me."

Y/N let out a breathy gasp as his hand skipped over her ass, under the bikini bottom’s to hold bare skin. The flesh was squeezed, heat spreading between her legs as the little grab only managed to make it worse. She couldn’t control it even if she tried. 

“H! There are people around.” She squealed nervously, but didn’t move his hand. The people were far away, the beach not too crowded, but she had to say it. It wasn’t unlike him to grab a feel, but he had no intentions of moving his hand. The man had been insatiable since their wedding night with no sign of stopping. 

Harry gave her a sly simper as his hand squeezed her ass again, kneading lightly. He knew they were technically in public, and he didn't care in the slightest. It was more exciting this way, he loved the danger of being caught, the thrill of almost being seen… he was on his honeymoon with his wife. Nothing else mattered.

"I don't care, darling. They can't see us over here... Besides, we're on our honeymoon. We can do whatever we want." Licking his lower lip as he pulled her closer to him, his voice dropping to a low murmur.

"And right now, I want you."

“Baby…” Y/N’s voice went all syrupy and whimpery as his tongue ran over her jaw, teeth stopping to nibble at her skin. “You’re gonna get me wet. And I’m still a little sore from last night…” 

Her face flushed at the memory of him pounding into her, desperate proclamations of love being panted into the air as he fucked her over and over. That had been intense and her poor body hadn’t fully recovered, but it couldn’t help but react to him. She wasn’t saying no though because… she didn’t want to. A glutton for punishment, maybe, but she craved him. Body, mind and soul. 

Harry's breath hitched as she whimpered, the sound going straight to his already thickening cock. The thought of getting her all riled up here, of making her feel good while hidden away did little but work him up further. Y/N had a master key to his body and just the tiniest noise, movement of word could have him undone at any moment. 

“H…” she whined, feeling his hand slip between them. Finding her already wet, she could feel him groan into her neck as he pressed kisses over her throat. “H- fuck.” 

Her pants did nothing to deter him. The slick sound of his fingers rubbing through her slit before finding her swollen clit was the loudest thing she could hear, over the music in the distance and the crashing waves. “God.. you’re so bad.” And it felt so good.

Her husband’s lips curled up in a lazy grin as his fingers slid effortlessly through the wetness of her cunt. He could hear her gasping quietly with every touch, and he knew she was desperately trying to keep it together. It was his job to undo her. "You love it when I'm bad, darling." He taunted, nipping at her neck. With a voice low and needy he continued whispering in her ear.  "See.. I think you love it when I'm naughty. Think that you want me to touch you, to slip my fingers over your needy cunt and make you feel good. Y’want that, don’t you baby?” 

Her eyes fluttered shut as she leaned her head back, letting his mouth mark up her throat. It felt too good to stop him, and her body was aching for it. This was what a honeymoon was for. Wasn’t it?  

“Uh-huh.” She nodded. There was no use protesting when this was what she wanted anyway. “Just be gentle, please.” 

Harry hummed in agreement, his fingers still gently teasing her as he continued to mark up her throat. 

"Don't worry, baby, I'll be gentle. I'll take care of you, just like I always do." His free hand came up to cup her cheek, guiding her face up to look him in the eyes. 

"Just relax, my sweet girl, and let me make you feel good."

Her shaky breathing was only made worse as he made her look him in the eye as he pleasured her. The slick movement of his fingertips where she was swollen from his constant licking and rubbing and sucking had her head swimming, sensitive from the use she had been experiencing- but god, did she love it. 

She knew he was feeling even more worked up now that she was his wife officially, and he was letting her feel that. “You always make me feel s-so good.”

Harry's groan caught in his throat as he watched her, her eyes half-lidded and hazy with pleasure. He fucking loved seeing her like this, all flushed and breathless because of him. His fingers toyed with her still, slow and gentle as he tried to make himself wait. "Good, because I love making you feel good… S’my favorite thing."

He pressed a few kisses to her cheek, his nose skimming over her skin as he moved to whisper into her ear. It sent shivers over her body, hard to keep herself from losing it as he touched her, practiced and knowing exactly where to taunt.

"You're so damn perfect, darling. My perfect, pretty little wife, letting me do filthy things to you. Love you so much."

Her hips rocked in time with his fingers, eyes closing for a moment as he kissed her neck again before whispering in her ear. When he gripped her chin again, he made her watch his face as he slowly sunk a finger into her. It wasn’t difficult given how soaking wet her poor pussy was, but she still felt the stretch. It was hard not to when they were that thick. 

A high pitched whine was cut off as she bit her lip, face contorting slightly as she felt him begin to move it. “It’s not f-fair, how easily you can… you can make me feel crazy.”

Harry hummed as he watched her face twist with pleasure, his finger still lazily pumping in and out of her. Feeling the walls clench around him and slick up his finger, he couldn’t get enough of her.  "Mmm, I know, darling. I know everything that drives you insane. I know all your sensitive spots, where you like to be touched, how you like it when I talk dirty to you..."

 Leaning in and biting down gently on her earlobe, his voice a deep murmur in her ear. "And I love that I'm the only one who knows those things."

“Mhm, the only one. You’re the only one.” She agreed vehemently. The pleasure was smooth and slow, building up as the slick sound of his finger being inside of her made it even more hot. “And you’re the only one who’s gonna put a baby in me too.” 

Y/N knew just how crazy that sort of talk made him, discovered it not too long ago, and she was aware she was playing with fire. She knew that, and yet she continued. 

Harry let out a deep, loud groan at her words, the sound almost feral. If anyone was nearby it would give them away, but he frankly didn’t give a fuck. He loved it when she talked like that, so shameless and filthy. Meeting him where he was at. It was no secret that he had been on a mission this trip, but Y/N knew what she did to him when she brought it up. His free hand dug into her cheek, gripping her tightly as his finger curved inside her, pressing into the slick, spongy walls. 

"Yeah? You want me t’get you pregnant, little darling?" His breath came out in huffed pants as his control started to slip a little. A button being pushed, almost all the way down. “Want me t’knock you up? Think we should try again… If you want that.” The memory of him pulling his cock out to watch the creamy mix slip out of her cunt before pushing back in to keep some plugged up into her the night prior came rushing back. 

That was exactly what he was craving. 

“Yeah, I want to… I want you to do it on this trip. Please? Wanna make you a daddy.” She keened, knowing they had little time at the beach left. He was going to lose control soon, and that had been her quickly executed plan.

Harry's control completely snapped at her words. He let out a low, guttural moan, his grip on her cheek firm as he laid a deep kiss on her mouth, licking into it and feeling her desperate kiss returned before he pulled back with a grunt and wet lips. She was ethereal, even in filthy situations like this. With beachy hair and bleary eyes, swollen mouth and the golden glow of the setting sun on her skin. Every day, every moment served as a reminder as to why he was so lucky to have her.

“God, you drive me fucking insane, darling. Y’know exactly what to say to get me all worked up, huh?" It was clear he couldn’t take it anymore. Y/N had hit her intended target, and he couldn’t be out here any longer because he would definitely get caught with a public indecency charge. Fingering was one thing, but the things he wanted to do to her? They needed privacy. 

He withdrew his finger, his voice a gruff whisper as he spoke into her ear. "Get up. Now.” 

A cry of loss left her swollen lips as he stood up, not caring at all about the bulge in his pants. He grabbed the beach bag, tossing it over his arm and surprised her as he tossed her over his shoulder too. 

“Harry!” She squealed. “H- oh my god. You caveman!” He walked towards the villa with her tossed over his shoulder, like she weighed nothing. Like the blatant show of strength wouldn’t make her even more aroused. 

Her husband chuckled at her protest, his hand coming down across her ass to give her a sharp smack. "Hush, wife. I said I'd take care of you, and that's exactly what I'm doing."

[kitten4sannie]

ᴘᴜᴘᴘʏʙᴏʏꜱ4ʏᴏᴜ.ᴄᴏᴍ

ᴘᴇᴛ ᴘʟᴀʏ/ᴘʀᴀɪꜱᴇ ➠ ʏᴜɴʜᴏ

pairing: camboy! yunho x fangirl! reader (fem)

genre: camming au, fluff (lowkeyy), humor, smut

summary: dedicating your hard earned money and free time to your favorite camboy goodboy_99 comes with a lot of perks.

w.c: 3.9k

warnings: switch! yunho, switch sub leaning! reader, there’s some sub 4 sub vibes in this, monster cock yunho, yunnie’s got piercings, exhibitionism/voyeurism, masturbation, edging, use of a cock ring/golden retriever butt plug >:3), teasing, pet names (baby, kitty, kitten, etc), reader calls yunho puppy/pup and he loves that shit, dirty talk, lots of praise, some degradation, kissing, toy usage, nipple play (f/m), squirting, breeding kink, rough unprotected sex, cumming in mouth, snowballing, these losers lowkey fall in love <3

a/n: shoutout to felix @yourfatherlucifer for allowing me to build on your camboy yunho fic idea :3 you're such a genius for that concept <3 so yeah there’s not enough whimpering baby boys with monster cocks in fics i swearrr (if you know of any pls send them my way ><) so i decided to offer my contribution,, more like cumtribution am i right?? *crickets* anygays i had way too much fun with this one skjdhf you'll see what i mean >3< i hope you enjoy ~~

Now Playing:

ᴄʏʙᴇʀꜱᴇx ʙʏ ᴅᴏᴊᴀ ᴄᴀᴛ

0:01 ❍─────── 4:28

Volume: ▁▂▃▄▅▆��� 100%

ᴘʀᴇᴠ | ꜰꜰꜰ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ | ɴᴇxᴛ

You've never missed a single stream from your favorite camboy goodboy_99, always willing to pull up his stream after a long day at work no matter how tired you were, never opposed to cranking one out in his honor. You sent him a countless amount of coins throughout your obsession, picking out new options from his personal menu, never tired of seeing him act them out with a cute little smirk on his face and your username gracing his pretty pierced lips. 

At first, you were a silent viewer, just concerned with getting yourself off, but then somewhere along the line, you began to leave lots of comments in the live chat, though they were more akin to sexts, and for some odd reason, Yunho paid more attention to yours, instead of the numerous other ones. Maybe it was because you were his number one fan, or perhaps, just perhaps, it was because he was into you too, but you assumed that was just your delulu mind at play. 

Regardless, here you were, sitting with your legs spread in your computer chair, a vibrator on your clit, and your eyes glued on the bright screen that was showcasing your beloved camboy in a similar position: his thighs spread open in his gaming chair, his pretty flushed face contorted in pleasure, fucking himself dumb with a purple pocket pussy, the base of his thick cock constricted with an even thicker cock ring. 

“Aaah, haaah…W-who made me put on this cock ring, huh? It won’t let me cum, guys, c’monnn, lemme cum,” Yunho whined out, a few beads of sweat dripping past his dyed black and red bangs down to the leather dog collar around his neck, giving his webcam a small pout, begging his viewers with his big brown eyes. 

➵ ᴀɴᴏɴ: ʜᴇ'ꜱ ꜱᴛᴀʀᴛɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴏᴜɴᴅ ꜱᴏ ᴡʜɪɴʏ ᴏᴍɢ

➵ ʜɪᴍʙᴏ4ʏᴏᴜ: ʟᴏᴏᴋ ʜᴇ'ꜱ ᴅʀᴏᴏʟɪɴɢ. ᴍᴜꜱᴛ ꜰᴇᴇʟ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ꜰᴜᴄᴋ

You brought one hand to your keyboard, pressing the rounded side of the large vibrator directly into your clit with the other, making you shudder and jolt, your fingers rapidly pressing into the keys. You’ve been in this exact position so many times before, you knew you couldn’t possibly cum until you saw Yunho fall apart in front of your straining eyes. 

➵ ᴜʀꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇᴋɪᴛᴛʏ: ᴅᴏ ᴜ ᴡɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴛᴀᴋ3 ᴜʀ ᴄᴏᴄᴋ ʀɪɴɢ ᴏꜰꜰ ɴ0ᴡ ʙᴀʙʏ ʙᴏʏ?

Yunho giggled softly at your typos, running a hand through his sweaty hair, causing it to fall back down onto his forehead, spreading his thighs just a little wider. “Yes, fuck, I’m going to cum all over myself for you, baby.” He pressed his fingers into his aching balls, feeling how sensitive they were, before he slowly slid the cock ring up and off of his leaking cock. “I’ve been edging myself for so longgg, god, it's gonna feel so good.”

➵ ᴘᴜᴘᴘʏʟᴜᴠʀ: ɢᴜʏꜱ ʜɪꜱ ᴄᴏᴄᴋ'ꜱ ꜱᴏ ʀᴇᴅ ʀɴ ʜᴇ'ꜱ ɢᴏɴɴᴀ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ʀᴇᴄᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴜᴍꜱʜᴏᴛ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ᴜꜱ

➵ ᴀɴᴏɴ: ꜰʀ ʟᴏᴏᴋ ᴀᴛ ʜɪᴍ ʟᴇᴀᴋɪɴɢ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ꜰᴜᴄᴋ,, ʜᴇ'ʟʟ ɢᴇᴛ ᴄᴜᴍ ᴏɴ ʜɪꜱ ᴄᴇɪʟɪɴɢ ʟɪᴋᴇ ɪɴ ᴅᴇᴠɪʟᴍᴀɴ ᴄʀʏʙᴀʙʏ

Yunho arched his back off of the chair, holding the vibrator near the base of his cock, the vibrations sending endless waves of arousal through his jolting body, the silver chain links hanging from his collar rattling against his drool-stained chest, soft, staccato moans echoing from his drooling mouth, on the edge of ecstasy, but not quite getting there. “Fuck, m’ so close, so close, so close…”

About to catapult into ecstasy yourself, you found it in you to help Yunho reach his much-needed orgasm, rapidly clicking a few options on the webpage. It was the least you could do after watching him edge himself in various ways for your own entertainment. 

Yunho heard a familiar jingling tone emanate from his computer’s speakers, preventing his eyes from fully rolling back into his skull, instead bringing his attention to his bright monitor, his cock beginning to pulse, a few more beads of pre-cum spilling down the shiny, bright red tip. 

➵ ᴜʀꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇᴋɪᴛᴛʏ ʜᴀꜱ ꜱᴇɴᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ¹⁰⁰⁰ ᴄᴏɪɴꜱ

➵ ᴜʀꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇᴋɪᴛᴛʏ: ᴘʟꜱ ᴄᴜᴍ 4 ᴍ3 ᴘᴜᴘᴘʏ 

Yunho received a hefty dono from his favorite viewer, got a cute request from them, and got called puppy all at the same time? It was simply too much for a baby boy like him to handle, especially after being teased and edged by his dear audience for so long. “Cumminggg, oh my god, m’ cumming so hard,” Yunho moaned out, dropping the vibrator from his cock, just letting it hang at his side, his thighs jolting each time his veiny cock twitched up into his heaving abdomen. “F-uuuck…” Long spurts of milky liquid splattered onto his straining abs, some shooting across one of his pierced nipples, some of it even gracing his pretty, glistening parted lips. Yunho didn’t even realize he managed to cum inside his own mouth until he tasted the bitterness on his tongue when he swallowed his drool down. “Holy fuck, you guys, I just swallowed my own cum…I should’ve just aimed for my mouth the whole time…Mm, remind me next stream.” 

➵ ᴀɴᴏɴ: ɪ’ᴍ ɪɴꜱᴀɴᴇ

➵ ꜰᴀɴʙᴏʏ4ᴛᴇᴇᴢ: ᴄᴀʟʟ ʜɪᴍ ᴘɪᴄᴀꜱꜱᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴀʏ ʜᴇ ᴘᴀɪɴᴛᴇᴅ ʜɪᴍꜱᴇʟꜰ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴄᴜᴍ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰᴜᴄᴋᴋᴋᴋᴋ

The visual and physical stimulation you were providing yourself proved to be almost lethal, dropping your now silent vibrator onto the carpet below, hunched over in your chair, resting the side of your sweaty cheek on your cat paw mouse pad, your twitching, tingling fingers gently pressing into your keyboard. “He looks so pretty…” you whispered to yourself, hearts forming inside your glistening eyes.

➵ ᴜʀꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇᴋɪᴛᴛʏ: ʟᴜᴠ ᴡᴛᴄʜɪɴɢ ᴜ ᴄᴠᴍ ʏᴜɴɴɪ3 ,, ᴜʀ ꜱ0 ᴄᴜᴛᴇᴇᴇᴇ

Yunho slid his long, slender fingers through the puddles of cum splayed across his chest, bringing them up to his lips, sucking it off of them, his hooded eyes accompanying his curled lips, looking like a mischievous puppy. “If you love seeing me cum so much, Kitty, then you should see it in real life, doncha’ think?”

“Huh?” you reacted, suddenly sitting up straight, your eyes and mouth wide open, wondering if you had nutted so hard, you were having auditory hallucinations. 

While licking the remaining saltiness from his lips, Yunho’s smirk grew wider. “You heard me. Since you’re my biggest supporter, I thought I’d fly you out to join me in a stream. Whaddaya think?” He just sat there, looking smug as hell, confident in himself and his decisions, his heart pounding away inside his chest. 

As you sat there in disbelief, factory resetting in silence, Yunho turned his attention to the rapidly moving live chat, giggling a bit. “That's a pretty hot idea, huh, guys? Wanna watch us fuck each other stupid?”

➵ ᴀɴᴏɴ: ɪᴍ ɢᴏɴɴᴀ ʙᴜꜱᴛ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴛʜɪɴᴋɪɴ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ɪᴛ ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ɪᴛ ʜᴀᴘᴘᴇɴ

➵ ᴘᴜᴘᴘʏʙᴏʏꜱʀᴜɪɴᴇᴅᴍʏʟɪꜰᴇ: ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴡɪʟʟ ɪᴛ ʙᴇ ᴍʏ ᴛᴜʀɴ ᴛᴛ

➵ ᴀɴᴏɴ: ᴋɪᴛᴛʏ ɪ'ʟʟ ᴘᴀʏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴏ ᴛᴜɢ ᴏɴ ʜɪꜱ ᴄᴏʟʟᴀʀ ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ

The rest of the chat had an overwhelmingly positive response, further egging on Yunho’s insane idea and your urge to pack up your bags right then and there. You still weren’t sure if you had fallen into a coma or if this was your reality, but regardless, you hit enter on your poor keyboard. 

➵ ᴜʀꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇᴋɪᴛᴛʏ: ᴜ ʙᴛʀ ɢᴇᴛ ʀᴇᴀᴅʏ ᴘᴜᴘᴘʏ 

➵ ᴜʀꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇᴋɪᴛᴛʏ: ɪᴍ ᴄᴏᴍɪɴɢ 4 ᴜ ♡

You landed a critical hit on Yunho’s heart when your highlighted comments popped up on his screen, causing him to cover his face and spin around in his chair, tiny giggles escaping his throat. He peeked at his webcam through his fingers, whining, “Hurry up, Kitty, I'm waiting!”

࿏࿏࿏

Taking a flight over to him wasn’t too difficult, but what was incredibly difficult was standing with your luggage outside of Yunho’s apartment in an outfit you took hours deliberating over, left to your own devices, which meant that your brain would go over all the reasons why he would send you home as soon as he opened the door. 

Before you could get even more sweaty just from standing there, the door swung open. Yunho’s face suddenly froze, his eyes growing wide, resembling marbles and beginning to sparkle. He just stood there staring at you, taking in all of you, wanting to etch it into his memory. 

“H-hi, Yunnie, I’m Kitty, well, Y/N, heh,” you squeaked out, dropping your bag on the ground to give him a shy wave, your lips quirking up into a nervous smile. “Y-you look even cuter in person.” 

“You’re the cute one here, silly.” Yunho giggled softly, immediately stepping past his doorframe to pull you into a hug, burying you in his oversized dual-colored sweater. “I’m so happy I can finally meet you, Y/N,” he whispered near your ear, rubbing your lower back with his large hand. “We’re gonna have so much fun together…” 

Once he pulled away, you almost melted into the floor, your knees feeling a bit weak, still able to give him a big, goofy smile. “So much fun,” you echoed, your flushed face matching Yunho’s bright red ears. 

࿏࿏࿏

After spending a bit more time together just hanging out around Yunho’s apartment and taking time to talk about whatever, including a discussion about your sexual experiences and limits, your walls seemed to drop all together, realizing he was just as chill, and just as perverted, in real life as he was during his streams. Your heart still raced over the smallest things, but that was for a different reason. Your body was practically vibrating as well, but that also had a different cause, a far more explainable one. 

“So,” Yunho began, gently running his thumbs over your knuckles, licking at the piercing on the side of his bottom lip. “Should we go live now?” He squeezed your hand slightly, leaning in to drown you with his intense gaze. “Are you in the mood to play, baby?” 

You couldn’t possibly tell him that you were essentially the human embodiment of Niagara Falls, having to squeeze your thighs together as much as you could to keep your arousal from dripping down your inner thighs past your short skirt. “I really wanna play with you, Yunnie,” you replied, gently placing your hand on his knee, your fingers moving past his ripped jeans to make contact with his warm skin. 

“Then, let’s play, Kitty.” Blushing and returning your sweet smile, Yunho reached up to caress your cheek lovingly, before standing up to turn his webcam on and start up a new stream. 

Yunho sat down in his spacious chair, making sure his pretty guest of honor stood in front of him for the time being as his faithful viewers showed up in the chat in large waves, eventually holding his hands out near you like he was presenting a prize. “Here she is, everyone!” He gave the webcam a playful smile past your shoulder, coaxing you to sit comfortably inside his large lap, his hand going up to pet your head, which you nuzzled into, the small bell collar he put on you earlier jingling a bit. “My Kitty finally arrived for playtime.” 

➵ ᴀɴᴏɴ: ᴛᴡᴏ ʜᴏᴛ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ ɪɴ ᴏɴᴇ ʀᴏᴏᴍ ??? ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴡɪʟʟ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴅᴏ???

➵ ᴘᴜᴘᴘʏɢʀʟ: ɪꜰ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ꜰᴜᴄᴋ ᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ɴᴇxᴛ ꜰɪᴠᴇ ꜱᴇᴄᴏɴᴅꜱ ɪ’ᴍ ꜱᴜɪɴɢ

“Now, c’mon Kitty, show everyone how excited you are to be here,” Yunho purred near your ear, reaching around you to grab your thighs, gently pulling them open as you spread them fully out yourself. 

With your thighs trembling, you revealed the bright pink vibrator you’ve had lodged inside you for the past hour, your cunt already so slicked up with arousal that the toy threatened to slip out of you if you didn’t keep clenching around it. “So full…” 

“Do you see, everyone? See how good I treat my guests?” Yunho asked his audience, making a downwards V over the top of your cunt, rubbing his fingers along your folds, making sure to stimulate your clit at the same time. “I watched her shove this toy up her cute little pussy earlier…She’s been walking around my apartment with it inside ever since like a good little slut.” 

➵ ᴅᴏɴᴛʟᴏᴏᴋᴀᴛᴍᴇ: ᴛʜᴀᴛ’ꜱ ɪᴛ ɪ’ᴍ ꜱʟᴇᴇᴘɪɴɢ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʜɪɢʜᴡᴀʏ ᴛᴏɴɪɢʜᴛ

➵ ᴀɴᴏɴ: ʜᴇ’ꜱ ᴘʀᴇᴘᴘɪɴɢ ʜᴇʀ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴍᴏɴꜱᴛᴇʀ ᴄᴀᴡᴋ ᴏꜰ ʜɪꜱ ᴍᴍᴍᴍ

Moaning at the feeling of Yunho pulling the toy out and slipping it back inside your hole, you leaned your head back into his chest, his stiff cock pressing into your ass, your hands moving back to play with his hair. “Wanna touch you too, puppy…” 

“I know you do, Kitty. You’ll get to put your hands all over me in a second, I promise.” Yunho nuzzled your cheek, giving it a gentle lick that made you shiver, pulling the toy out agonizingly slow, inch by inch, drawing a long moan from your lips. He slipped both of his arms around you, bringing his hands down to spread you open with his thumbs, your clenching cunt on display for every single one of his viewers to drool over. “Look at this pretty kitty’s hole, everyone. So pink, so wet, so ready to use, huh?” 

His follower and viewer count hit a sudden spike, making the both of you giggle to each other. Yunho then lifted one of your thighs up onto the chair, spreading his own thighs open a bit just in time for a golden retriever tail to become visible fo his viewers, his ass comfortably filled with one of his favorite plugs. “Kitty watched me put this in after she filled herself up. It slipped in so easily too, and my sweetheart got so wet, but I told her she couldn’t cum until you guys got to see. Aren’t I the best, guys?” His chat sped up a little faster, the majority of people talking in all caps, making Yunho chuckle.

➵ ᴀɴᴏɴ: ɢᴜʏꜱ ɪ ᴄᴀᴍᴇ ᴀʟʀᴇᴀᴅʏ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴅᴏ ɪ ᴅᴏ 

➵ ᴅᴏɢʙᴏʏ: ʜᴇ’ꜱ ᴇᴅɢɪɴɢ ᴜꜱ ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴛᴏᴏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ

When you whimpered and nudged him for his attention, Yunho nodded knowingly with his cheek against yours, nuzzling it. “Oh, I know, baby. You’ve been so good letting that toy fill you up for so long, but you need more. Is that right? You need puppy’s cock in your breeding hole, don’t you?” he teased you in a low, pouty voice, rubbing your wetness around your clit with one hand, using his other hand to push the vibrator in and out of your clenching cunt, going faster and faster until you began to cry out.

“Yes, puppy, please, I can’t take it…!” you voiced desperately, jolting against Yunho’s body, about to scream when he pressed the rounded end of the vibrator to turn it up even higher, your thighs beginning to shake. “Oh my god, i’m gonna…”

“Cum for me, Kitty, cum for everyone….” Yunho squeezed your clit roughly, simultaneously jamming the vibrator into you at such a velocity that you screamed, your arousal starting to pour out of you, the clear liquid getting onto Yunho’s thighs and the chair below. Yunho groaned at the sight, using his hand to rub your juices around just to hear how wet it was, moaning, “Oh, fuckkkk, look at that, Kitty’s making such a mess for us.” He brought his dripping fingers to his drooling mouth, eagerly sucking your cum off of them. “Did that feel good, kitten?”

“So good…” Feeling Yunho’s rock-hard cock throbbing against your lower back, you squirmed around against him, turning your head to look at him, still panting softly from your ear ringing orgasm. “Wanna make you feel good too, pup, with my breeding hole…”

“Oh, yeah?” Yunho nosed your neck, licking a stripe up your neck past your collar to make you shiver, looking you straight in the eye afterward. “Wanna squeeze around me, baby? Feel how big I am inside your tiny little cunt?”

You reached up to caress his hair, gently tugging on it, your eyes full of desperation for your favorite streamer. “Please. Want you to stuff me with your cock. Wanna make you cum from how tight I am for you.”

Yunho unknowingly began to rut against you, leaving streaks of pre-cum on the small of your back. “That’s my slutty little kitty…so eager to be filled by her puppy…” He reached back around you to spread your hole open once again for the camera, looking at his webcam with hazy, hooded eyes. “What do you think, chat? Should I fuck this kitty full of my pups?”

➵ ᴀɴᴏɴ: ᴅᴏ ɪᴛ ᴅᴏ ɪᴛ ɴᴏᴡᴡᴡᴡᴡᴡ

➵ ᴀɴᴏɴ: ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴏꜰ ꜰᴜᴄᴋ ɢᴇᴛ ɪɴꜱɪᴅᴇ ʜᴇʀ ʙᴇꜰᴏʀᴇ ᴍʏ ᴅɪᴄᴋ ᴇxᴘʟᴏᴅᴇꜱ

Unable to take Yunho’s teasing anymore, you quickly stood up, wobbling slightly, before you sat back in his lap, this time facing him, the both of you struggling with his joggers to pull his cock out, already grinding yourself along it when it was finally free, the slippery ridge of his silicone cock ring supplying you extra pleasure. “Need you, Yunnie,” you whimpered, pulling at his collar to bring his parted lips onto yours, your tongues joining in the middle. 

Yunho moaned into your mouth, swiveling the chair to the side so that his viewers could still get a good look at your shared desperation, his cock starting to throb steadily against your slick cunt when you began to suck on his tongue — though the whining and whimpering noises Yunho was known for didn’t start until you began to rub and flick at his pierced, hardened nipples from underneath his sweater, his hands diving underneath your own sweater to grope and pull at your tits, eventually moving to your ass to squeeze it, your hips lifting up slightly so that he could tease your entrance with his leaking cockhead. 

You moved your hips back slightly so that you could reach down, grabbing at the base of his tail and moving it around experimentally until Yunho began to gasp for air, figuring you were rubbing against his prostate. “Does that feel good, puppy? Am I hitting the right spot?”

“S-so good, makes me wanna fuck you, kittennn, wanna fuck you dumb on my cock. Can I, please?” Yunho suddenly begged you, fucking himself back on the plug that you continued to maneuver around inside him, not hesitating to give you the most adorable, lust-drunk pouty face you’ve ever witnessed in your life. 

“Yes, puppy, please, please, please fuck me,” you answered just as desperately, ruffling his soft, slightly damp hair, letting go of his tail to wrap your arms around his neck.

Yunho quickly swiveled the chair back to its original position so that your ass and throbbing cunt was on full display from behind, using two fingers to spread your open for him, slowly guiding his thick cock inside you inch by inch, until he completely bottomed out, resulting in a blissful sigh from the both of you. “Look at you, kitten, so fucking full of my cock. I’m gonna fuck your brains out,” he groaned, his large hands encasing your hips, immediately jack hammering himself into you like he was using a fleshlight, your joined bodies creating a lewd symphony of slick sounds.  

Yunho rammed himself into you so roughly, you couldn’t do anything else except take it, bouncing on his monstrous cock over and over again, the tip of it repeatedly forming a bulge inside your stomach that only Yunho could see, throbbing inside you from the sight of it. “So good, it’s so good, Yunnie, love your cock…!” 

“Love your wet cunt, Kitty, love how tiny you are, like you’re gonna break just from getting pounded into by my puppy cock,” he moaned back, gripping your ass so hard, your flesh squished through his strong fingers, still driving you down onto his cock like you were made for him, for his pleasure. “Makes me wanna stuff you full of my litter….”

“A-aaah, but puppy likes being edged with his cock ring, doesn’t he? It feels so much better like this, yeah?” you huffed out, reaching behind you to squeeze one of his intensely swollen balls, receiving a high-pitched, pleasured moan from your playmate.

“Feels so fucking good, Kitty,” Yunho agreed, mindlessly kicking the speed of his thrust game into hyper-drive, mindlessly fucking himself into you so roughly, so sloppily, his cock almost slipped out a few times, requiring him to hold you down by your hips. “Your pussy’s clenching so hard around me, baby, it’s so tight for me…Feels like you’re gonna cum…”

“Yeah, gonna cum, puppy, feels too–aaah-good…!” 

Yunho locked his arms around your waist, his hips never faltering, his veiny length rubbing along your inner walls in just the right way, making you cry out. He pressed his lips onto your ear, slipping his hand in between your sweaty bodies to rapidly rub your stiff clit, purring, “Good girl, cum for me, kitten. That’s right, baby, squirt on my cock…” 

When you came, you came hard, your arousal leaking out around his slippery cock, your body jolting as each wave of pleasure coursed through you, resting your head on his shoulder, his sweater slipping down it. Once you recovered, Yunho pressed his lips against yours, whispering words of praise, among other things that his audience couldn't hear until you slowly lifted yourself off of him. 

“I think it’s time to make our good puppy cum, don’t you think, guys?” you asked his webcam, walking around Yunho’s chair to stand behind it, running your hands down his body, reaching for his twitching cock, slipping your closed fist up and down it until you made Yunho whimper pathetically, tears forming inside his eyes, causing the already rapidly moving chat to go completely ape-shit. 

➵ ᴡʏɴɢ: ɪ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱʜᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴇᴅɢᴇ ʜɪᴍ ᴍᴏʀᴇ, ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ʜɪᴍ ᴄʀʏ

➵ ꜱɴ: ɴᴏᴏᴏ ʟᴇᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴏᴏʀ ʙᴀʙʏ ᴄᴜᴍ ᴀʟʟ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ʜɪᴍꜱᴇʟꜰ ʜᴇ ᴅᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇꜱ ɪᴛ :(

You continued to pump his reddened, leaking cock, replicating his incredibly needy facial expression, pouty lips and all, murmuring, “Awww, poor puppy wants to cum so bad, huh?” 

Yunho bucked his hips up into your hand, trying to fuck himself into your closed fist, his abs and muscles straining from his desperation, his ass clenching around his favorite plug, more drool beginning to leave his lips and dribble down his neck to his dog collar. “Please, let puppy cum, wanna cum inside my mouth like a dirty boy,” he babbled out, tears overtaking his vision once the pain of edging himself for so long began to overtake the pleasure on his almost orgasm. 

“Mm, then be good and cum, puppy,” you replied sweetly, suddenly slipping the pre-cum drenched cock ring off of Yunho and bringing it up to his mouth, watching him lap up the clear liquid off of it without you even having to ask. “Such a naughty boy, so good for us, aren’t you?”

“So good, Kitty, m’ so good,” Yunho echoed, running his hands up and down your forearms for his own comfort, practically panting like an actual dog would, his bangs plastered to his forehead with sweat. “Gonna cum so hard…” 

“Cum so hard for us, Yunnie, come on, that’s it….” Leaning yourself over his shoulder, you used both hands to milk his long, heavy cock, driving loud, whiny moans out of him, along with spurt after spurt of milky cum, watching the way he caught the stream of it on his lolled-out tongue. Yunho tilted his head back, looking up at you with teary, glazed-over eyes, making a small noise, clearly wanting to share himself with you. 

Without hesitation, you pulled him by the collar, pressing your mouth onto his, his tongue slipping inside it almost instantly, lazily swapping his hot cum and saliva with you, the both of you swallowing the combination down with ease afterwards, your hands caressing one another’s sweaty faces. After a shared gaze of affection, Yunho pressed a kiss onto your nose, making you blush harder than you had the whole night. 

When the post-nut clarity hit him, Yunho sat up a bit in his chair, giving his webcam a variety of hearts using his hands. “Thank you all for tuning in for this special stream, everyone! Love you!” 

➵ ᴀɴᴏɴ: ɪ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ɪ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ꜱᴀᴡ ɢᴏᴅ

➵ ᴘᴜᴘ: ᴍɪɢʜᴛ ɴᴇᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴛᴀʟᴋ ᴛᴏ ᴍʏ ᴛʜᴇʀᴀᴘɪꜱᴛ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴏɴᴇ

➵ ᴡʏ: ʙᴇᴀᴛ ᴍʏ ᴍᴇᴀᴛ ꜱᴏ ʜᴀʀᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ ᴄᴀʟʟ ᴍᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴜᴛᴄʜᴇʀ

➵ ꜱɴ: ɢʀᴇᴀᴛ ꜱᴛʀᴇᴀᴍ ᴀꜱ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏꜱ ʏᴜɴʜᴏ ♡

As soon as Yunho turned his webcam off, he brought you into a tight, comforting hug, nuzzling the side of your head with his own. “You did so good, Y/N…That was amazing, this is amazing…” 

You hugged him back just as tight, your heart fluttering, wondering if it was all just physical between the two of you or if there was something else blossoming behind the lens of the webcam. “I think so too, Yunnie…I just…” You began to pull back, causing Yunho’s happy expression to drop a bit. 

“What’s wrong, Y/N? You didn’t have fun?” he murmured, his bottom lip jutting out slightly. 

“No, it’s not that! I had tons of fun, Yunnie, the most fun I’ve had in a long time…��� you reassured him, ruffling his damp dyed hair as gently as possible, smiling at him with your eyes. “I just don’t want to overstay my welcome, you know? So I should probably–”

“No, no, noooo,” Yunho repeated whinily, pulling you back into his arms, nuzzling your neck this time, enveloping you in his comforting scent and warmth. He eventually pulled back, just enough to rest his forehead onto yours, gazing at you, as if he was letting you take a peek at his beating heart through his eyes.  “Stay…?” 

You swallowed harshly to keep your heart from bubbling up into your throat, warmth searing into your cheeks, murmuring, “Are you sure?” 

Yunho bit at his bottom lip, lowering his head slightly so you didn’t have to see just how red he had become, though his bright red ears betrayed him. He eventually looked back into your eyes, swallowing down his nerves. “Y/N, what if…what if told you I was your number one fan too? What would you say then?” 

With your heart hammering away inside your chest, you pulled yourself together just enough to softly press your lips against his. You smiled up at him afterwards, caressing his cheek, your eyes twinkling with adoration for your favorite puppy boy. “Does that answer your question? Or do you need another?”

Yunho pouted cutely, just about ready to melt inside your arms. “Another.”

fff: @itza-meee @chnt1 @k-hotchoisan @wonyobie @vampiregirl215 @yuyusbunny @christmastodoroki @luvt0kki @pieyoon @goldnhwa @choisanboobenthusiast @icyb3rry @maximofftrash @choism @yunhosmelonbar @nebulousbookshelf @astayinwonderland @slutologyy @10nantscompanion @ddaeing @pandagirl-016 @Randomgirl11-posts @staytiny816 @horanghae8 @smally97 @ateezzzser @crispybaguettes @bubblegumbird @midnightmaja @i2nsstuff @asimpelslut @svt-dinosaurus @wisejudgedragonhairdo @deathbyyeekies @firefox79 @wildesreblogs @everyonewooeverywhere @raspberrysannie @Whatintheninerealms @hyunjinsbby @Hyphenen @channiespup @abby-grace @seonghwaddict @mxnsxngie

Apply for the taglist here ⇢ ♡

© kitten4sannie, 2024.

[krypticcafe]

When you call them "babygirl" (COD:MWII)

rating: mature

characters: Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Captain John Price, John "Soap" McTavish, Simon "Ghost" Riley, König, Gary "Roach" Sanderson, Hound

warning(s): language, a smidge of suggestivness

a/n: calling them bbygirls>>>>>calling them fictional crushes. also, my personal Roach hc is that he's a selective mute that took up ASL to communicate.

EDIT: there's now a reversal! What if you were called babygirl 👀

Gaz

His eyebrows raise almost impossibly high

"Did I hear that right or did you just..."

He's not upset, just... surprised.

Pleasantly surprised.

He doesn't mind it but man... it might've sparked something inside him. Might've.

You've given him nicknames before, both teasing and affectionate, but he never expected to be called that before. It's a new feeling.

You don't use it too much with him, but when you do, it gets the cutest laugh out of him. Gets him acting like he doesn't like it, but you know he absolutely does.

If you catch him off guard, he'll tilt his cap down and try to stifle a laugh to distract himself from how warm his face feels.

"Fuckin' hell, the things you do to me..."

You cheekily grin in response and give him those adoring eyes because you know that he knows you do it because you love him just that much to torment him :]

Now you only use it to amuse and tease him just to hear that golden laughter. You don't think you'll ever get tired of it.

Price

First time you said it, he nearly choked on his cigar.

"Sorry, what did you just say?"

He doesn't mean to be rude, it's just that you caught him so off guard. Give the poor man a break.

You repeat it to him and he chuckles, a little awkwardly because him? Babygirl? He can't see it, at least he doesn't see if he even has the qualities for such a title.

But oh, do you disagree. In fact, you start using it more, regardless of what he thinks.

If it's in front of the other task force members, it usually gets him to stop in his tracks and let out a knowing groan, shaking his head and trying to get the team to focus back on whatever they were doing before.

Which is extremely hard with how Gaz and Soap are trying to fight back their giggles.

When you're alone, he sighs but leans into your touch a little more.

He's actually amused by it and has even tried to give you something equally cheesy or teasing just to bite back at you.

It works.

He knows he's egging you on to use it more but truthfully?

He can't bring himself to get actually upset over it.

Soap

You decided to test his reaction on a whim one night at a visit to the pub after a successful mission, walking up behind him and greeting him.

You've never seen his head whip around so fast, and you wonder how he didn't snap his neck.

Oh and there it is.

The classic McTavish SmirkTM.

He's grinning so wide, leaning into your side and wrapping your arm around his waist.

"Would'ya mind repeatin' that, love?"

You're starting to regret this, seeing as he's enjoying it a little too much.

Then again... it could make this night a little more rewarding.

After that, he practically pushes you to use it more, says something about getting butterflies or how it "rolls off your tongue so well"

Either way, you don't mind it, seeing how it makes him happy and how he seems more obliged to listen to you.

And every time you do, he's always got that adoring glint in his eyes and an excited grin on his lips because fuck yeah,

He is your babygirl.

Ghost

He freezes so badly, the only movement being his shallow breathing.

To be honest, you were a b i t nervous to try, but you figured there was no harm in it with how far your relationship was.

But now you're starting to regret even trying, wondering if you've crossed a line or-

"Say it again."

Ohfuckohfuckohfuck-

You do as he says, and it gets a dry laugh out of him. He shakes his head and brings a hand to his forehead, mumbling about how stupid it is.

Except you don't miss that softened look in his eyes, the one weakness of his mask.

So you start rolling it out slowly and steadily, mostly in private because god knows he would strangle you for using it in public.

Much to his dismay, the 141 still overhears it thanks to you "teasing" him with it as a "joke".

Regardless, you don't mind limiting it to being used in private because you're the only one that knows and uses the fact that the Simon "Ghost" Riley secretly loves being called your babygirl.

Specifically in a soft or smooth way that gets him to just fucking melt on the spot. Even a simple, "How's my babygirl doing today?" in passing gets him all worked up at the idea of him being yours and yours only. It's even worse when you use it in bed.

So use it wisely!

König

He's looking around as if you're talking to someone else. Poor thing's all confused.

When he finally figures it out that it's him you're talking about, ohhh the way you wish you could take a peek under that hood.

The man's got his face buried in his hands, gripping and pulling the hood down on his face as if any inch of skin would further reveal how flustered he got.

Though you can already imagine it for yourself, his face burning brightly with his lips pressed tightly, causing all his stammering and sputtering.

Even worse, because of that, you add it to the list of various nicknames you have for him.

What you didn't expect is for him to adjust so well to it. At some point, he just sheepishly laughs and smiles whenever you use it, and of course, he's still a little shy about it,

But he starts leaning into it more, responding to it like he would any other name. Loves it like any other nickname when he just buries his face in your shoulder and cuddles you while you whisper reassurances to him.

Just be careful using it around the others, he'll implode if they find out.

Roach

What surprises you is how quickly he accepts it.

You had called out for him, and he just turned and responded with a signed "Yes?"

It kinda caught the both of you off guard.

He snickers and signs again, "Would you want me to call you something similar?"

You know where this is going, and before you can do anything, he starts calling you "hot stuff".

So now the two of you keep coming up with a bunch of corny, cheesy nicknames to sign to each other, some of which don't even make sense.

It's until that you call him it again he's like Soap in that he goes, "You know what? Yeah, I am your babygirl!"

Now he wears the name loud and proud. Almost too proudly. Pretty much the whole base knows it by now.

He got a goddamn name patch of it.

Occasionally, you'll get other 141 members commenting, "Looking for your babygirl?" or "Surprising that you don't have your babygirl with you today." with emphasis on the nickname.

So basically, what was supposed to be you teasing him was now him teasing you.

Hound

They first overheard you using it when you were conversing with some other force members, mostly talking about Hound and you. To many, it was a strangely unlikely relationship come true. He didn't think too much about it. You probably fumbled with your words.

Then he overheard it a second time. Then, a third. Then it came to a point where they just figured that it was now another term of endearment for them.

In all honesty, he's confused why you specifically like using that of all names, he simply can't see how such a cute, loving name could fit someone like him

You explain to them how it's kind of your way of showing them as yours, that they're your baby, and to you, they're one of the sweetest things to exist.

He melts at that.

So now when he hears it from you close or from afar, his head perks up, and he'll give a quick glance in your direction.

Sometimes, you use that fact just to get his attention, and he knows that, but he never minds when he gets to see you grinning so brightly.

[eccentricallygothic]

This Moment

What Mountain Man Silver Fox Nomad!Steve Rogers does after he has tamed you (for the time being) and you're no more than his sensitive little baby wife <3 

Continuation of my oneshot, Wrong Turn, because of this ask. 

Warning(s): Post rough fuck, you're knocked out full of cum, all the Wrong Turn warnings apply honestly, fluff. MDNI.

Steve doesn't have to bite back his smile anymore now that he's in the privacy of your chambers with no one to line the horizons of his senses but you and only you. 

The lamps burn dimly, as if aware of the situation, gentle breezes caress your flush, bruised and sticky skin as you sleep with your belly bloated from his cum, your small form curls under your husband's huge one that is draping over yours in how he leans above you with his elbow next to your head to hold himself up, your mouth is parted as you exhaustedly snore and Steve cannot help but snort as he runs the wet rag along the many ‘love marks’ he has given you tonight. 

His usually pushed back and kempt silver-blonde hair is in what he would consider to be a state of disarray though you have suggested him in one of your more… amiable moods to wear his locks like that. It falls over his forehead and above his dark blue eyes, golden whiskers appear to be poking out from behind his ears due to the state of his hair and his toned, beast-like body is nude against yours. 

Steve doesn't care for these things because they're natural and he would be caught dead before he ever let himself be seen like this or admit his capacity for all this to you, but in this quiet moment of his pure masculine triumph and existential bliss where his dear young wife sleeps utterly ravished and brimming full of his children, he will clean the sweat, spit and cum off your skin with a rag and gentle water. 

Of course, being a man who is expected to rule with an iron fist, and as husband to a brat like you, he has to keep things in a balance and not let his irrational urges overpower his better sense, Steve will tell you that it was the attendants who took care of you while you were asleep if you ask. But right now, in here, on this night that is pleasant only because you grace his bed, he will do this for you because he knows that you do not like to roll around in your own filth, as you mumble sometimes and think he doesn't hear. He knows it is difficult for you to sleep with that feeling lingering over you regardless of how exhausted you may be. 

And so he will do this, so when he envelopes you in his arms, you don't toss or turn in discomfort but melt into his embrace in that way he is addicted to. 

You let out a sleepy whimper and mumble gibberish when his fingers graze a particularly sensitive mark on one of your boobs and he cannot help but chuckle, momentarily abandoning the rag there to push your hair away that your mild unrest causes to fall over your face. His dark blue eyes are uncharacteristically bright in the dim lighting as they dance over your form, his hairy cheeks bend and his rosey mouth forms a smile. 

Steve cooes at you like you're no bigger or older than the babies in your belly, his coarse and scarred fingers trace the side of your face as they savour the outlines of the specifics of your features, his usually cold and calm heart leaps up into an unfamiliar flutter and that's it, he cannot bear it anymore. He needs you against him; molded into him. The man does not wait to find out what he will do if he cannot feel your heavy breaths fanning his skin, if he cannot feel your heart thump into his chest and if cannot feel the warmth of your tender skin draping around his hard one. He cannot. It is in these moments with you when all his wisdom and patience wears away and all he can think of, like a boy in his adolescence, is you.

You, you, only you.

So he snakes an arm around your shoulders with a desperate urgency and pulls you into him, gently picking up the rag again as he carefully places you on his chest that is a bed of itself, one hand tenderly caressing your back whilst the other hastes to capture any spots he may have missed. 

Of course, it will not be perfect and he will not be able to get them all simply because those are not things that are in the business of a man like Steve to know. 

But he will have tried. 

And as you softly smile to yourself and nuzzle closer into his beastly chest, you reckon that's all that matters. 

Especially coming from someone like your husband.

In this moment, at least.

MASTERLIST

[princessmaybank]

Wet Dream

Pairings: Bsf!JJ x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Talking in sleep, Perv!JJ, somno (?), non-con oral (f & m receiving), talk about p in v, kissing, hickies daddy kink, etc

Summary: You were having a wet dream in front of JJ.

Authors Note: I hope you like this one!

Y/N was laying on the couch, peacefully sleeping while I played on my phone, sitting in the chair across from her. Everyone else had gone to bed already or went home. Y/N and I were spending the night but she was supposed to sleep in the bed.

"Jayj..." She must be awake now. "What's up?" I never looked up from my phone, I waited for a response but it never happened. I glanced at her and saw that her eyes were still shut. She must have just gone back to sleep.

"Mmm Jayj..." I looked back over to her, but nothing. I'm assuming I'm just hearing things, especially because the room was silent for another 10 minutes.

"Mm yeah right there..." My cheeks flushed. I didn't know what to do, I don't think she remembers that I'm here. When I moved my eyes back to her body, she was still sleeping. "Yesss, jus-just like that." Was she having a wet dream..?

Fuck this is the hottest thing I've seen in a long time. But she is my best friend I can't act upon this. "Mmm" She was moaning and making some beautiful sounds. "Jayj, stop teasing.." My heart burst and my dick sprung up. She was having a wet dream, and I was in it.

My hand slowly met my dick through my shorts. I couldn't help but palm at myself while I watched her face and listened to every word she said. "your tongue is cold..." She moaned. It's crazy how well she's forming these little thoughts, but I'm so glad she's able to. I stroked myself slowly through my pants and bit my lip.

At that moment I had a beautiful idea. Was it wrong? Yes. Did I care? Not really. I walked over to her spot on the couch and put my hand on her thigh, underneath the blanket. I rubbed up and down gently. Luckily I've been around Y/N before when she sleeps. She can be a very heavy sleeper. I'm praying that's how she is today.

I flipped the blanket off her legs so it would sit on her torso. My hand went to her pajama shorts and moved them to the side, that's when I realized, she wasn't wearing panties. That's even better.

I needed to see if she was going to wake up or not so I dipped my head between her legs and gave her a small kitten lick. "Mmmm" Her moan scared me but she's still asleep, so I think I'll be okay to continue. Who am I kidding? I would've continued regardless.

My head found its way between her legs again. I started slowly licking stripes up her cunt. After a few good licks, I stopped on her clit. My lips wrapped around the sensitive bud and I sucked on it.

A gasp escaped from her lips but her eyes were still closed. It wasn't until she put her hand in my hair and started pulling, that I realized she was awake. "Fuck yes-don't stop- please..." She dragged out. It was my mission to make her cum now. My middle and ring fingers found their way into her hole. "oh fuck" She almost yelled before I put some fingers from my other hand in her mouth to shush her. "Gotta be quiet *lick* don't wanna get caught Y/N/N" I realized just exactly what I was doing when I said her nickname, but I couldn't stop now.

I tried my best to keep her quiet while pushing my fingers in and out of her noisy ass pussy. "Fuck Jayj- I think I'm gonna cum-" She said and I couldn't be happier. I stuck my tongue in her hole and used the fingers that were in there, to rub her clit in fast circles.

She was wiggling and made little shrieking sounds, so I knew she was close. I fucked her with my tongue a little faster until I felt her warm liquid spill onto it. "oh jay...." she moaned as her hand tugged at my golden locks.

I kissed up and down the inside of her thighs. Once she came down from her high, she came back to reality and gasped. She shot up, fixed her shorts and hid her body under her blanket. Y/N was all balled up in the corner of the couch just staring at me. "What? Do I have something on my face?" I wiped the side of my mouth with my thumb, clearly being a smartass.

I dodged the pillow that was thrown at my head and let out a giggle. "That's not very nice to do, especially after I just made you cum." Her cheeks turned red. "What were you doing?!" She nearly screamed. "Shhh, don't yell, we don't wanna wake up JB and Sarah." I shushed her. "Why did you do that JJ?" She questioned quietly this time. "You were begging for it!" I said and quickly realized when I saw her face that what I said came out bad. "No no no! Not like that! You were legitimately begging me. I heard you moaning my name, and you looked so pretty...I-Im sorry.." My hands flew to my face, I felt like such an asshole.

The next thing I knew I felt someone tugging at my shorts. A pair of hands moved mine away from my eyes and made me pull down my cargo shorts. "What are you doing?" I asked almost like she did earlier. "I can't be the only one to cum Jayj. Since you already made this a thing, I'm gonna at least finish you off so we are even instead of us never talking to each other again."

"You think we'd never talk to each oth-" She cut me off by wrapping her lips around my tip and slowly swirling her tongue around it. "ohhh fuck.." I rested my hand on her head and I tilted mine back and bit my lip. I lightly pushed my hand down to make her start bobbing up and down. "Mmm faster baby.." I didn't care about the nickname right now, I'm sure I'll call her some other things soon. When I asked her to speed up she did, and fuck it felt amazing. "Just like that- fuck just like that..." Y/N was going even faster, and apparently she didn't care about making too much noise...or a mess. There was so much spit on my dick I couldn't fucking think straight. This was the best head I've ever received and I haven't even cum yet. Well, I was about to. She reached down with one hand and played with my balls while the other was stroking some of my length. Most of it was in her mouth but when she needed a moment to breathe her hand had no problem taking over. "I'm almost there, fuck don't stop." My head fell back again.

"Cum for me daddy.." She said which caused me to whip my head up as I came in her mouth. It caught me so off guard, but it did help me cum. I watched as she swallowed my load. My best friend just sucked my dick and swallowed my cum...what the fuck is happening. "Feel better Jay?" She asked innocently while retrieving some toilet paper from the bathroom to clean me up. "So much better."

About 30 minutes later we were cuddling on the couch, setting up a movie. I sat up and she straddled my lap. "I think we need to talk." She said putting her arms around my neck. "I couldn't agree more." I smiled back, placing my hands on her ass. "But that's for tomorrow, let's have fun tonight." Her lips met mine. We moaned into each other's mouths as she grinded her hips downwards onto my dick. "Someone's not satisfied with my impressive pussy eating skills?" I giggled. "It was very impressive from what I was awake for, and you'll have another chance to impress me with that tongue, but I wanna see what that dick is capable of..." My eyes widened, not only did she say I would have another chance, but she also wanted me to dick her down. FUCK YEAH!

"Just gonna sit there with those googly eyes, or are you gonna take me to the bedroom and show me what you're made of bestie?" She taunted.

I picked her up and entangled our tongues once again before walking us to the bedroom.

After I closed the door we heard a loud "THANK YOU" come from John B and Sarah.

"I guess we were a little loud baby." I giggled when I set her down on the bed and crawled between her legs. "Sorryyyy" "Never said it was a bad thing baby..next time we are home alone, I promise to make you scream for me." I smirked and started attacking her neck, leaving only hickies behind.

"You're my bestest best friend ever." She moaned out as I stuck my dick in her. "Stop friend-zoning me, especially while I'm fucking you." I pushed in harder waiting for her to respond. "Fine. Fuck me harder! Fuck me until my legs shake Jayj! I'm all yours daddy!" I stopped what I was doing because she called me that name again. "And that's why I don't call you that! Fuck me Jayj!" She teased. "Call me daddy again..it's fuckin hot." I said as I slapped her ass. "Stick your huge fucking cock in me and fuck the shit out of me...daddy.."

I did as she asked. By the end of the night we were tired, sweaty, and definitely more than just besties.

[hellisharchive]

Some Adam smut with a fangirl? I mean he did mention a band.. so that means he would have a ton of fans across the music genre! And one in particular likes HIM the most. How would he handle that? Just like another groupie? Or maybe something more? Please have fun with this!!

・﹒・ diggin' on the guitarist - request

Summary: You wanted him to notice you- but you were too scared to make yourself known. You were his biggest fangirl but too shy to say something. However, he finally noticed you in ways you never could have imagined.

Warnings: 18+, fingering [reader receiving], aftercare

Pairing: Adam x Fem!Fangirl!reader

You went to his every show, but not feeling confident enough to go up and meet him as you would probably find someway to mess up. You had the biggest crush on him, biggest fangirl this side of Heaven regardless of what everyone else says. He was just so hot, you would kill just for a little wink at you. This show was no different as you jumped up with the crowd as you yelled along to his lyrics, always so passionate about his music, you loved the energy. By the end, you were exhausted and had another amazing time. Starting to leave after mostly everyone filed out, you felt a hand grab onto your wrist. Turning around, you saw that it was Adam himself. What did he want? With someone like you?

"Heeeyy now, where ya goin' hot stuff? Don't think I don't notice ya at every single show of mine. Gotta say, I'm always sad when I see ya leave. Not this time" He had on a smirk as he let you go, only to get right up in your personal space. Only then did you realize just how much bigger than he was from you, he had to lean down a good few inches just to be above your head. Face growing hot from the size difference, you panicked and looked around the now completely empty venue- it was just you two. Was this really happening? Did he actually notice you every single time? Freezing, you had no idea what to say and how to respond. He was your idol, your true love, and he actually noticed you. You felt like an idiot, like you were back in high school with a stupid crush on a guy. But, you try and muster up something and fail spectacularly.

"I uh- I just uh. Uhm-" A slim finger rested itself on your lips, promptly shutting you up. Eyes wide, you saw his mischievous ones as he pulled his finger away, grabbing onto your waist and walking you backstage into what looked like a sort of lounge room. You were shaky and unable to fully process everything that was happening. The Adam, the first man eas hitting on you, touching you, and bringing you on stage. Your dreams were all coming true.

"You don't have to say anything Babe, it's ok, I know I'm too awesome that I make you speechless. Now- sit down" You stayed silent as he gently pushed you onto the pale, golden couch, opting for being quiet that as the bst option so you don't keep making a fool of yourself. You didn't know what he was planning but you did as he asked, sitting on the cushions as he stood and hovered right over you.

"You ready to be pleasured by the original dick, Babe?" You nodded egarly and he chuckled before telling you to take off your clothes. You hurriedly rushed as you ripped them off while also being careful not to damage them, you felt the cold rush of air hit your now naked body. Staring up at the man, he took off his mask to reveal a handsome face with brown hair and gold eyes. It then occurs to you that you've never seen him without his mask, or anyone has.

"I know, I'm fucking handsome. Now sit back and relax as I give you a special show for my favorite fan" Before you could fully register that he said you were his favorite, he smashes his lips against yours and grabbed onto your tits. You moaned in his mouth as he tweaked your nipples, already making you so aroused as you grabbed onto his hair and tugged it. After a few minutes, he pulled away and took off all his clothes except his underwear. He then slid himself between your thighs, sloppily kissing your neck, causing you to moan loudly. He nipped and sucked until the point where you're sure there were at least 2 hickeys that would form. As he was doing that, he slipped a finger to your pussy, which caused you to jump in his hold. The first man moved down to suck on your tit, picking the nipple as he gently moved his finger right where your clit was, flicking it and gently dipping it into your folds.

"Adaaaammm..." You moaned, from the tit sucking to the feeling of his finger penetrating you was getting overwhelming. Squirming, you tugged on his hair and gripped it as he started to move in and out of you, switching the breast he was sucking to the other side. He then added a second finger, going faster as you could feel that familiar pool gather in your stomach, at this rate, you were going to orgasm in a little bit. Biting your lip, your breaths became fast and unsteady as he knew exactly how to move his fingers inside you as a guitarist.

"Keep moaning my name, its hot as fuck" Before you could release, he pulled his fingers out of you, making you whine from having your orgasm robbed from you. Chuckling, he took off his underwear to reveal an average sized cock, but it was pretty thick. Gulping, you wondered if it would even fit. Looking back up at him, he pulled you into a kiss- a softer one this time- as he lined himself up.

"Tell me if it gets too much, alright? Or tap me or some shit I don't know" Nodding, you took a deep breath as he slowly started to push in, with just his tip you were already feeling full. Grabbing onto his arms, you closed eyes and curled your toes as he was making sure to be gentle. Taking deep breaths, you felt kisses on your untouched side of your neck as he finally pushed all the way in. Opening your eyes, you saw him have a soft look on his face before he asked if you were ready. Saying yes, he started thrusting in and out. Yelling out his name, you moaned the entire time as he went slower at first before quickly picking up. Your arms were wrapped around his neck as you tugged on his hair hard, causing him to fuck you into the couch harder. Tears formed in your eyes from just how good it was- heavenly- if you will.

"Keep sounding like that and I'm gonna have to claim as mine, fuck" You could barely register what he said as he pounded into you mercilessly, the feeling of an orgasm quickly returning. You started sobbing as you finally orgasmed, moaning out his name so loud you swore all of Heaven heard you. Breath slowing down, he slowed down as well, hair all messy from your tugging, sweat covered both of your bodies as you stared into each other like old lovers. He gently slid himself out of you and you already missed the feeling of being so full. His cum and your fluids mixed as they leaked out of you. You watched as he grabbed a towel that he slightly wet and a water bottle and set them on the couch.

"Drink" He noticed you were out of it and shaky, so he opened the bottle and lifted the opening to your mouth, slightly leaning your head back as you drank some water. He set it back down when he thought you had enough for now and started to clean you off. He was being so gentle as he made sure to get every single part of your body. He went to grab your clothes when you tugged on his wrist, even if weakly, but it was enough to signal him.

"Can you uh...can we uh..." Your voice was hoarse from all the screaming and the water only did so much, but even after he fucked you silly, you still couldn't ask to cuddle with him. Smiling, he shook his head as he pulled away and grabbed a random blanket on a chair and walked back over, laying you down softly on the large couch. Resting the blanket on top of you, he crawled in behind you as he was much larger than you. Wrapping his arms around you, you felt him kiss your head, making your chest warm.

"Thank you for being my favorite fan"

[eds6ngel]

i love your robin blurbs omg 😵‍💫😵‍💫 if you have time could you write something about her and r fooling around in family video? she just loves you so much that she has to have you right there!

of course i can!! it’s a short one, but i hope you enjoy regardless ♡

warnings: SMUT!! afab!reader. semi-public sex. oral (r receiving.) orgasms. established relationship. swearing. pet name (baby.) food mentions. [0.5k].

“Oh, baby… Fuck me…”

When you came into Family Video, visiting your girlfriend Robin was actually second on your to-do list. Your mother had asked you to return a rental she had out for the past week.

You weren’t even acting secretly flirty with her. It was just a casual, platonic-sounding conversation with a dedicated chore in mind.

But, turns out that Robin was feeling pretty needy today, and after forcing Steve to finish his lunch break five minutes early, she was dragging you to the backroom by the hand.

And that’s how you ended up here, quietened, and sometimes muffled, moans being let out of your throat as you were spread on the edge of the metal table, Robin kneeling comfortably between your thighs as she let her tongue do the magical work.

Your hand was tangled in amongst her golden locks, bangs sticking to her forehead as you tried your best not to let the table screech along the tiled floor.

Your left leg was draped over her shoulder, her black-painted nails digging into the flesh of your thighs as her tongue continuously flicked over your clit.

She would wrap her lips around your clit, whilst her tongue alternated between a side to side and up and down motion.

You don’t know what it was about Robin’s mouth, but she could make you cum from just that alone. She was gifted such a beautiful mouth. It was made for your pussy.

“R-Robbie. I-I’m close. So fucking close for you, baby. Oh my God.”

You had to try and keep your voice down, your legs doing the talking by beginning to shake uncontrollably. The walls here were incredibly thin, and you didn’t want Steve to have to answer to confused customers concerning the moan-like sounds coming from the backroom.

Robin kept up the pace, humming against your clit and shaking her head, the vibrations sending shivers up your spine.

“Yes! Yes! Oh my God!”

They were the loudest whispers you had ever let out, and with your eyes rolling to the back of your skull, you had to quickly slap your hand over your mouth to suppress the moans attempting to escape it. Your legs shook even more, hips erratically lifting up from the cool metal as your orgasm washed over you.

Robin continued licking and sucking, guiding you through your high, until you comfortably pushed her head away, avoiding the overstimulation.

She lets go of your clit with a pop, standing up from off her knees, and wiping the slick that was dripping down her chin away with her grey blazer.

She quickly flattens out her outfit, preparing herself to get back to her job in a presentable manner, before smirking at you and saying, “Well, that was the best lunch I’ve ever tasted. I’ll have to try that delicious dessert more often whilst at work.”

And from what you just experienced, you were very willing to be her meal for every single one of her shifts.

taglist: @agxxb @robinsno1lesbian @agenderrat

[gaybananabread]

✦༻Spoilers༺✦

~This has been in the back of my mind since the movie came out; the time has come. I’m making progress with TickleTober, so enjoy this meal in the meantime! There’s probably more than a hint of shipping in here, but you don’t have to read it like that if you don’t want to. I hope you Enjoy!~

Lee: Wade Wilson

Ler: Logan Howlett

Summary: Logan is struggling to get used to living with Wade; he has a limit for Wade’s bullshit. The merc loves pushing him to that limit regularly. Logan uses an unconventional method to shut his smartass roommate up.

Warnings: canon-typical language and jokes, spoilers for Deadpool & Wolverine and Golden Girls (you’ll see). This is a tickle fic, so if you don’t like that, scroll away!!

I’ve finally done it: the ultimate team-up turned homo-erotic-roommates-story. And, ya know, saving my entire timeline; mainly the Logan stuff, though.

Wade had been incredibly happy since they’d saved the existence of his timeline. He was showering regularly, disposed of that horrid “toupee,” and started actually talking to the people in his life about how he felt. It kinda sucked, but hey – character development isn’t always sexy.

Things were going splendidly for the merc with a mouth.

Logan, on the other hand, was slowly going insane.

The Wolverine was grateful for the place to stay, of course; hell, he felt more at home than he had in years. The problem was how…Wade Wade had been acting.

Logan secretly admired how openly true to himself Wade could be; I mean, the guy literally said whatever came to his mind, no matter what. Then again, the guy literally said whatever came to his mind. No matter what.

Even if that thought completely spoiled something for Logan.

“Hey, Peanut! As much as I love that juicy ass, I’m gonna need you to get outta my spot.” Wade flicked his wrist at the eX-Man, beckoning for him to get up. Logan had been there for about twenty minutes, and there was no way he was moving; the episode of Golden Girls he was watching wasn’t finished yet. The man rarely got time to rest like that, savoring every half hour he got with the television like it was holy.

“I’ve been here, bub. Wait your turn.” Logan didn’t even blink, leaning to the side so he could still see the screen. He was gonna finish that episode, damn it.

“Ooo, is that ‘End of the Curse’?” Wade hums, taking a closer look at the screen. Logan wasn’t very far into the episode. “Turns out it’s just menopause, not pregnancy. Man, nothing wakes you up like an existential crisis and skinned minks.”

A low growl rumbled in Logan’s throat, his eyes narrowing dangerously. Ooooo, Wade fucked uuup…

“Did you just spoil the ending to my Golden Girls episode?” The livid tone of his roommate’s voice made Wade’s smile grow nervous.

It’s cool, it’s fine. All I gotta do is nail this recovery. Read and learn, people.

“At least I didn’t tell you that the whole Rose and Miles Webber thing doesn’t work out.”

Fuck. This is why you don’t stare at your roommate’s moobs while trying to save yourself, kids.

“You motherf- WADE !” Logan bolted up from his chair, charging at the blemish-skinned man. Wade made his first smart decision that entire morning:

He ran for his fucking life.

But, of course, luck refused to be on the red-suited man’s side. Wade tripped over one of Mary Puppin’s toys outside his room, Logan’s large hands quickly hoisting him up by the waist. Before he could fantasize anything, he was slammed down on his bed. Which, of course, opened up a whole new realm to dig his own grave in.

“Damn, Peanut! It’s customary to take me to dinner first, but you know I don’t mind gettin’ sloppy~” Okay, that was a little cliché. Wasted opportunity, Wilson.

Logan seemed pissed regardless. “You fucking ruined the one relaxing thing I get to do a week when Al’s out. Do you know how hard it is to enjoy a show when you know what’s gonna happen?!”

As entertaining as seeing Wade squirm beneath him was, Logan wanted revenge. He normally would’ve skewered the smartass, but Al was getting sick of smelling Wade’s blood whenever she left for a few hours. That, and he may or may not have gotten some blood on the couch (don’t tell her).

What else could he do? He wanted Wade to suffer, to regret his actions, to shut up for one in his god-forsaken existence. The only times he could remember that happened was when he was asleep, and when he was…oh. Ohoho, fuck yes.

“You’re gonna learn to shut that gaping, bottomless shithole you call a mouth, Wade, and you’re gonna learn it the hard way.”

“I do everything the hard way, Peanu- yeEEAHAHA! THEHE FUHAHAHACK?!” Before Wade could finish proving Logan’s point yet again, he felt ten muscular fingers knead into his thighs. It was – ironic, he knew – his death spot.

Now, imagine trying to explain why you’re smiling so much when someone’s grabbing at your thighs without stuttering. Spoiler alert: it’s torture.

“You can’t mouth off if you’re too busy laughing, fuckhead. Now shut up and scream for me.” Logan squeezed and squished at the merc's thighs, doing his best to tickle the shit out of him.

“Y-YOUHU CAHAN'T- FUHUHUHUCK! NOHOHO!” Wade tried and failed to speak through his laughter, his head reeling from the intense feeling. For the first time in many moons, the Merc with a Mouth was rendered speechless.

“I can’t fuck? Really? Bold ass statement to make when you’re at my mercy.” Logan’s more playful side was slipping out; how could it not with Wade’s goofy-ass laughter egging him on? Seriously, how could anyone expect him to act like a hard-ass with the man making such purposefully adorable noises?

“NOHOHOT WHAHAHAT IHI MEHEHEANT!” Kicking and squirming, the scarred man was quickly realizing he couldn’t talk his way out of the situation. They were matched in strength, but the tickling quickly un-evened the playing field. Maybe pleading for his life?

“COHOHOME OHOHON! I-IHI’LL QUIHIHIT!”

Logan paused for just a moment, his hands still resting on Wade’s hips. He was…actually gonna stop being a loudmouth? While he didn’t believe a word of that, he still wanted to take things a bit easier on the man; damn feelings…

Slowing down, the Wolverine moved his wiggling fingers to Wade’s stomach. Compared to his thighs, it was a decently tolerable spot; still, it fucking tickled.

“Wohoholvie, thihis is nuhuhuts! Ahand not thehe hohot kihihind!” Okay, maybe he immediately proved himself a liar, but Logan didn’t exactly quit! He was sort of justified, in that sense.

“You never learn, do ya?” There’s an air of amusement and affection in his voice that shocks the both of them. Logan immediately tries to correct it, clearing his throat with a glare. “Stubborn asshole. It’s a bad idea to taunt me when you’re this fucking ticklish.”

“Th-thihihis ihihisn’t fahahahair! Youhuhu’re thehe Tumblr bahahabygirl, nohot mehehe! Youhu shouhuhuld be gehehtting ihit!”

“The fuck is a Tumblr babygirl?” Logan snorted at the silly-sounding words, once again trying to figure out what the hell his roommate was talking about.

“Thehehey knohohow!” Wade pointed towards some unseeable audience, making the hairy man roll his eyes. He seriously needed to get Wade tested for something; it would probably explain so much.

“Do you want me to go back to your thighs?” Logan jerked his hands down threateningly, reveling in the squeal the motion causes. He didn’t even touch the other man that time; it was kinda cute.

“NOOOHOhohooo! Dihickhead!” Without thinking, Wade thrusted his arms out and shoved at Logan’s shoulders. Obviously, the brick wall of a man didn’t move, but his attention was drawn to a specific nuisance: the merc’s arms. Specifically, the fact that he hadn’t explored beneath them yet.

Gathering the mouthy man’s wrists in one hand, Logan forced Wade’s arms up and pinned them to the mattress. Once again, Wade was faced with a tough decision: smart off and completely fuck himself, or grovel and hope for some mercy.

Eh, smart choices are plot killers. This one’s for you, dear reader.

“Y-youhuhu’re really ehembracing your dark side, Peanut~ Next thing ya knowhow, I’m gonna be getting fitted for thohose fuzzy cuffs and a harn- FFFAAHAHAHAAA! OHO- OHOHOKAHAHAY! IHI’M SOHOHORRY! IHIT WAS THEHEHERE!”

Logan showed zero mercy, digging into Wade’s underarm with renewed vigor. He switched back and forth every few seconds, right to left, wrecking the man as thoroughly as possible. The man’s thighs were definitely still his death spot, but his armpits were a close second.

“You don’t act like you’re sorry, ya shithead.” There was a lot less contempt in Logan’s tone than Wade was expecting; he couldn’t exactly comment on it, but the Wolverine seemed almost happy that he had chosen to prolong his torment by being a smartass.

Wade, on the other hand, was going through it; a vibrant blush had taken residence on his cheeks, little tears of mirth showing up for the housewarming party. Worst of all, his exhaustion forced his muscles to relax, allowing snorts to catch in his throat.

“Damn, Wilson. Goin’ hog wild down there, huh?” Wade’s heart would’ve stopped right then if it were possible. Logan “Go Fuck Yourself” Howlett…made a dad joke?!

“Y-YOUHUHU MAHAHDE A JOHOHOHOKE! IHI’M SOHOHO PROUHUHUD!”

“Fuckin’ Christ, just shut up already!” Embarrassed from both the acknowledgement and praise, Logan dug back into Wade’s thigh to silence him; well, keep him from talking by means of hysterical laughter.

About two minutes into getting his thighs attacked by the kitty man, Wade was rethinking all his life choices that led him there. I mean, he obviously wouldn’t do anything different if he actually had the chance to, but there were some regrets. His laugh was growing raspy, a few wheezes slipping in with the snorts as he struggled to catch his breath.

Logan noticed how tired Wade was getting almost instantly. The man hadn’t smarted off in a hot second, so he figured it was time to stop; definitely not because he was taking it easy on Wade or something stupid like that…

The moment the tickles stopped, Wade drew in deep, giggle-ridden breaths as he tried to calm down. He barely noticed his wrists’ release, too tired to lower his arms anyway. It was, admittedly, an utterly adorable sight.

Noticing he was still literally straddling the anti-hero, Logan climbed off and went to grab Wade some water. When he got back to the bedroom, the merc had curled up on his side, a blanket hap-hazardly tugged over him. The eX-man rolled his eyes at the sight, turning the man to face him.

“Here, drink this.”

Despite sticking his tongue out, Wade greedily gulped down the water. His textured cheeks were still a healthy red from the tickling, the ice water both soothing his throat and cooling him off.

“Thanks, Kitty.”

“Just take a nap or somethin’, bub.” Rolling his eyes at the statement, Logan turned and trudged out of the room; neither missed the light blush on his cheeks from the nickname.

Wade settled back into his bed, sighing at the ceiling. Despite everything, he was actually going to try and improve on his spoiling restraint; he kinda deserved what came to him, even if it was totally overkill.

As for the tickling…well, it wasn’t the worst thing in the world. Logan could’ve cut his vocal chords or sliced his head off in the tub, but he didn’t; the man just did something silly and lighthearted to drill the lesson into his brain. It was curious, in a sense; why would he choose to be lenient with the loudmouth?

It definitely deserved some looking at, to say the least.

Maybe I’ll insult his mutton chops tomorrow. Ya know, for research purposes…

[whatsnewalycat]

mindfuck

Dave York x f!Reader

Summary: Dave hypnotizes you.

Rating: Explicit (18+ only)

Word Count: 2.8k+

Warnings: hypnokink, not entirely good praxis of hypnosis, humiliation, implied infidelity, praise, smut, unprotected piv, D/s dynamic, dom dave, literal mind fucking so like a bit of body horror get into it

Notes: For @iamasaddie kinky May writing challenge. Prompt was hypnosis + Dave York. I found a lot of inspiration for this from a post in r/EroticHypnosis about mindfucking (can find again if anyone wants the link - lemme know!). Posting this in a hurry bc I am late to a thing so hopefully not tooooo many missed mistakes. OK THANK YOU FOR READING!!!

[ my masterlist ]

-------

All your life you wished you could turn off your thoughts at will. 

Growing up, on those nights where your crowded head wouldn’t let you sleep, you would imagine twisting off the top of your skull like a jar lid and plopping your brain on the nightstand. It even worked sometimes, too, if you tried hard to convince yourself. When reminders of an upcoming math test or images of that cute boy in class crept into your purview, they had nowhere to go. They evaporated, and you slept. 

Dave says you’re too smart for your own good. Sometimes when you’re lost in thought, he tells you he wants to empty that pretty little head of yours. Not in a condescending way, although you can see how someone might interpret it like that. 

What he means is that he wants you to be with him when you’re with him. What he means is that he wants you to be present. Not thinking about the past or the future. Not reminding yourself of deadlines or analyzing the data stored in your brain or wondering what you mean to him exactly. 

The first time he suggested hypnosis, you balked. Even after he explained how it worked, you were hesitant enough for him to drop the subject. 

When he brought it up again, though, your skepticism swayed. You asked him for more details, so he dispensed the pros and cons and the step process. He could do it for you, he said. He knew how. He said he could rattle the bees from your buzzing honeycomb brain. All you had to do was trust him with this power. 

So you did. 

And you do. 

Your valiant beekeeper meets you at this hotel every other Tuesday night, except on holidays. This isn’t the only one-on-one time he dedicates to you, but it’s by far the most reliable. He doesn’t always hypnotize you, either. 

Regardless of whether he puts you in a trance or not, this standing date always starts the same. He slips you the keycard at some point throughout the day, only after he’s adorned it with a vase full of seasonal blooms and laid out something for you to wear. 

Tonight he left you lilacs and matching lingerie. Intricate floral appliqués embellish the pastel nightie he laid out on the bed. 

Opulence becomes you when you slip it on and pour a glass of champagne from the bottle Dave left to chill on ice. You mosey around the spacious high-end suite, sipping frosty bubbles as you admire the birds-eye view of downtown, the tall buildings and bustling city life all drenched in golden light from the setting sun. 

As the time nears eight o’clock, you empty your champagne flute and make yourself comfortable on the plush bed. Crystals hanging from the chandelier fragment soft white light into dazzling tiny spectrums, sparkling rainbow when the door to the suite opens, then closes. 

Dave enters the room with an air of authority that makes you straighten your spine and draw back your shoulders. After chucking off his jacket, he empties his pockets on the dresser and loosens his tie, then turns around to meet your gaze. 

His stern expression melts as he looks you over, seeming to appraise how your body fills out the lilac nightie. Heat sparks in the middle of you when he greets you, “Hey beautiful.” 

“Hi.” 

He approaches your side and takes a seat at the edge of the bed, rolling the sleeves of his dress shirt, “Comfortable?” 

Nodding, you sit up to pull him in for a kiss. His plush lips respond without hesitation, firm but generous as he slips a wide palm around your body and brings you even closer. 

When he pulls back, he asks, “Are you ready?” 

“Ready.” 

He cradles your jaw, searching your face with blatant admiration before separating his body from yours. You lay back into the soft embrace of the pillows and wiggle around until you find the sweet spot of comfort while Dave drags an armchair to your bedside and sits down. Once you’re both settled and still, he begins. 

“Close your eyes.” 

You close them. 

“Take a deep breath in…”

You take in air until you can’t. 

“…and slowly release it.” 

You exhale, rationing your metered breath through a straw-sized ‘o’ formed by your lips. 

“Good. Take a deep breath in… two three four… and slowly release it. Deep breath in… two three four… now slowly release it.”

Behind closed lids, you concentrate on the rhythmic ebb and flow of your lungs contracting and expanding. His warm voice surrounds you. Envelops you. 

“That’s it. Keep breathing just like this. Each time you inhale, draw the life from your breath, and exhale the rest. Notice how cleansing it feels to let it go. How the tension melts from your muscles every time you take a deep breath in…”

You inhale. 

“…two three four…” 

Hold it. 

“…and slowly release it.” 

Then exhale.

“Perfect. Keep doing that. Now imagine that every time you take a deep breath in, a warm wave washes over you… and as you slowly release it, the tide carries away tension, allowing your muscles to soften and relax…”

Each big lungful heats the tar holding your body together. You dissolve into the mattress as Dave’s deep, honeyed voice resonates through you. 

“Again, take a deep breath in as the warm wave of relaxation washes over you, two three four… and slowly release it as the tide carries away your tension, allowing your muscles to soften and relax. Concentrate on my voice. Recognize it as a touchstone. If your mind starts to wander, have it return to the touchstone, return to my voice, and relax even deeper.” 

Trees tower above you, stretching high into the pale blue sky. The moss-covered rock before you glows as he speaks. 

“Notice how relaxed you feel. Notice that every time the warm wave of relaxation washes over you, two three four… tension melts from your body as you allow yourself to sink deeper and deeper into the sensation. Allow the relaxation to seep from your muscles into your bloodstream… to course through your veins and calm every cell in your body.

“Focus on your face. All those tiny little muscles in your forehead and around your eyes, notice how relaxed they are. Notice how the relaxation melts the muscles in your cheeks and jaw, letting your mouth go slack. You might feel as though you want to speak, but find yourself so relaxed that you can’t. That’s ok, because it feels good and safe to let the words dissolve on your tongue. Doesn’t it?” 

When you try to respond, your lips don’t move. This fact doesn’t bother you. It feels good and safe in the forest, staring up at the treetops. 

You realize you’re floating in a pond. You hear birds peacefully chirping and know it’s just you and them and the touchstone for a million miles. 

Everything feels profound, but simple. You are small and big like a speck of dust or a galaxy. You are safe. You are at peace. 

“Doesn’t it feel so good to relax, darling?” 

Your fingertips rest against the soft moss of the touchstone. 

“Yes, it does,” you tell it. 

It glows with a satisfactory hum that vibrates through you.  

“Perfect. Continue to focus on my voice. Soon, I will ask you to open your eyes, then close them. When you close your eyes, you’ll notice a warm wave of relaxation washing over you, turning knots into snarls and snarls into strands, every muscle in your body gently untangling as you allow them to go limp and heavy…”

You understand and follow his instructions. 

“Open your eyes and take a deep breath in, two three four… and slowly release it, closing your eyes, letting the warm wave wash over you and pull you in deeper. 

“Soon, I’ll ask you to open your eyes again. When you close them, you’ll notice the warm wave of relaxation wash over you even stronger than before, pulling you even deeper. 

“Open your eyes, two three four… and close your eyes, sinking deeper and deeper. Good job. We’ll do it one more time, and when you close your eyes and relax, sink as deep as you can, all the way to the bottom. Open your eyes, two three four… and close your eyes.” 

You’re lying in a meadow of wildflowers outside the forest, looking up at the serene blue sky. The earth beneath you is solid and brings you an immense sense of comfort. 

“I want you to think about desire. Think about that warm, lush longing inside you. Concentrate on how good this sensation feels in your body, pleasure swelling thick at the center of you.”

His voice surrounds you, but you don’t see its source. The soothing timbre resonates from the wildflowers and the earth and the sky, from everywhere and nowhere all at once like how you imagine God sounded to Old Testament prophets. 

You bring your focus to desire. It does feel good. Amazing, actually. Tangible like a glowing ball of heat between your thighs that throbs with each syllable he speaks. 

“Allow the sensation to grow. Let it stretch and pulse and heat your skin. Let your mind empty of everything except this arousal. When thoughts arise, you let them fall away and arousal fills the empty space. You’ll let this happen over and over again until your head is empty of everything but arousal. Do you understand? You can speak now, darling, go ahead and answer.” 

“Yes.” 

“Try it for me.” 

You acknowledge the cognitions that populate your mind. When you think about how you need to put gas in your car, you imagine the reminder dropping away, then imagine the warm wanting glow of desire branching up through your body to take its place. You think about a work project, but it loosens and falls into an abyss. Desire floods the space in its wake, a thick hot liquid that glows with light like lava, spreading to each new vacancy with ease as the thoughts drop from your consciousness. 

“How does it feel?” 

“Good,” you breathe, voice faint on your tingling tongue. 

“Do you like how it feels, being horny and mindless?” 

Your husband’s face appears, taking up your whole mind, then falls away. Rich, bubbling pleasure surges through you to fill the gap. You have to suppress a moan to respond. 

“I like it,” you nod, “Fuck, it feels amazing.” 

“Good girl. Now, you might notice something interesting happen when I ask you a question. You might notice that when I ask you a question, you’ll try to form a thought to answer. When you do this, you’ll feel my cock enter your mind. It’s bigger and harder than you’ve ever seen it, swollen and thick and so fucking ready for you, darling. When you try to form a thought, it pushes forward into the wet hot folds of your brain, severing the connections that typically allow you to think, preventing a response from forming. My cock pulls out, and slowly thrusts forward again, pushing out the thoughts, over and over for as long as you consider a response to my question. It becomes impossible to focus. You might notice that this penetration feels like it would in your pussy. My hard cock rutting in and out, sending waves of arousal through your body, fucking the thoughts from your head. Every time my cock moves, you’ll try to respond but cannot make yourself focus. It feels amazing. You give in to the sensation, allowing it to overtake you completely. When you’re fully saturated with arousal and nothing else, my cock pulls out of your mind.” 

Your skin feels static and warm when you imagine him pushing his smooth, throbbing length into your brain. A shaky whimper croaks in your throat. Your heart thuds heavy within your chest, circulating desire, warm and wet, to every cell in your body. 

“You might notice that when I ask you another question, any attempts at thought or sensations that come up except arousal will be fucked from your head until you surrender to the arousal. It feels good to be dominated in this way. To let pleasure consume your entire being.” 

Licking your lips, you nod to show you understand.  

“Now when I ask you a question, you’ll allow your subconscious to follow my instructions. Are you ready, darling?” 

“Yes.” 

“How was your day?” 

When you try to recall your day and formulate an answer, the tip of his cock pierces the equator of your brain, splitting the hemispheres. He drives forward slowly, steadily, making you moan as he stretches you apart and tears all those delicate tissues that generate thought. Still, you try. 

My day, how was my day…

He drags his cock out, then drives it deeper inside you. 

Day… how was…

Your nerve endings buzz as he pulls out, gooey arousal shines on the shaft of his thick cock. He plunges forward into the hot center of you. You work your hips and whine. You can’t remember what he asked. It doesn’t seem as important as the pleasure clinging to your insides as he fucks you, so you give up. 

His cock pulls out of your mind completely. 

“What’s the weather supposed to be like tomorrow?” 

You consider the question. The tip of him breaches your brain, forcing out forecasts and clouds and sunshine. Fragments return as you attempt to answer again. 

The weather tomorrow…

He pumps in and out of you, obliterating whatever it was he wanted to know. It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters except the insatiable pleasure thrumming through you as he rubs against all your hungry nerves, giving them what they want. 

“Oh my god,” you hear yourself gasp. 

“How often do you think about fucking me?” 

Seeds of embarrassment sprout the tender beginnings of thought, then he fucks them out of your head until you’re rolling your hips, moaning and nodding for more. 

“Do you make yourself come when you think about fucking me?” 

Only a loading screen appears before he’s inside you again. His perfect, thick cock pumps you full of this throbbing heat. You wish it would never end. You want to feel this and only this forever. 

“That’s it, that’s my good girl. So horny and mindless for me. Letting my cock push deep and hard into the folds of your brain, fucking out all your thoughts, leaving your head empty to stuff you with arousal until you’re swollen and ripe, nothing else left but how fucking horny you are.” 

“Sssooooo fucking gooood,” you slur. 

“How would your husband feel if he saw you like this? In this hotel room, all dressed up in lingerie I bought for you, moaning and writhing on the bed?” 

A thought starts, and he pounds it out of you, merciless in its rhythm as each thrust pushes you higher and higher. Horny and mindless, that’s all you are. Nothing matters except this.

“Do you really think we’ll run away together? Do you really think I’d leave my wife for you?” 

A rotten sensation tingles in your chest before you feel him enter you from both ends, the cock in your mind working in tandem with the cock in your pussy. You choke out a moan and nod, body vibrating with a thick, hot sensation you can’t find the beginning or end of. 

“Fuck fuck fuck, holy fuck—” 

He groans, rolling his hips faster, fucking your entire being so hard and fast that you become pleasure itself. It’s everything and everywhere for eternity and you gladly accept this fact, wanting to forever exist in this moment. 

“That’s so good, darling. So fucking good. You want me to let you come, don’t you?” 

You nod frantically as the edges of you start to fray.

“Go ahead, come for me.” 

His permission completely unravels you, ripping away the last delicate thread holding you together. You sob as you fall apart into a thousand pieces. His hips stutter and he moans, giving you a few deep thrusts before pulling out. 

Your chest heaves as you try to catch your breath. You float in the peaceful pond, staring up at the towering treetops that kiss the sky. 

“Now in a minute, I’ll bring you back to your normal state. When I count to four and tell you to wake up, you’ll come out of the trance relaxed and refreshed. Your mind will feel spotless. You’ll know that I adore you and hold you close to my heart.”

You hear birds peacefully chirping. You know it’s just you and them and Dave for a million miles. You are small and big like a speck of dust or a galaxy. You are safe. You are at peace. 

“And one two three four… wake up.”

[moondirti]

DEE IK THIS IS SO OFF THE BAT BUT IMAGINE RIDING MIGUEL’S ABS??!;!;?:?:? WHATS UR CRUMB ON THAT BCS IM LITERALLY ASCENDING INTO HEAVEN JUST BY THE THOUGHT OF IT😩☝🏼

SUMMARY: after the events of DOUBLE RAPTURE, we follow Mig back home and explore his less than ideal relationship with his world's version of you.

explicit (18+) | 1.5k words

part one / can be read as a standalone! WARNINGS: smut, ab-riding, handjobs, codependant relationships, submissive (?) miguel, ANGST, fear of commitment (on the reader's part), implied parental issues, drinking, anxious/avoidant attachment styles NOTES: did this take me forever to respond to? yes. have i been thinking about it every day since i received it? also yes. please have a little drabble as a sweet treat for your genius mind, anon. sorry i took it too far

This is how it is with Miguel.

Buttressed on a leather couch that isn't so much leather anymore, but cotton dotted with the flakes of black suede that've managed to hold on through the years since you bought it. It's old, unstable – somewhat an apt metaphor for your relationship to the man – and stands situated across a television with no cable. He shows up at your door on any unannounced night, where for once you wish he'd catch you with plans pre-made, and intrudes on your vain attempt to connect the old screen to your neighbour's internet.

And it's ironic that you should end up watching dated cartoons anyway, stuck inside your apartment that is a fraction the size of his, because he always opens on some variation of the same line – the very thing that woo'd you all those years ago, when you were younger and prone to any man's charm:

What's a pretty thing like you do in a place like this?

It's dark outside – night-worn inhibition being one of the main constituents to poor decision making – and his skin gleams golden in the dim lamp light. You can't refuse him for all your rationale on why, so he comes in and you pour a strong drink whose hangover tomorrow will take precedence over your guilt. He drinks too, perhaps to make your eventual rejection easier, and the two of you make-out on that tumbledown couch until your lips turn blue.

Sometimes, he comes up for air – only when he gathers enough courage to break away from you – to whisper filthy nothings and little promises on the shell of your ear. Neither are empty, you know. Miguel’s good at making good of every word when it comes to you. The push and pull gets to him, fuels his gears until he’s pouring proper work into making you happy. From what you can physically face – gonna have you creaming on my cock, cariño – to prospects that remain ever-frightening – wanna stay like this forever, you on my lap, sharing our home. 

You’ve never had a reference to ‘our’. Commitment remains a fickle thing for you, instilled by parents who didn’t have the mind to give it. He knows as much, but you don’t think he understands just what keeps you around regardless. What keeps you at the door, waiting for an acknowledged three-knuckle knock. None of the in betweens, flowers, nor the heights you reach spread-eagled underneath him. It’s always just been exactly that – his return, done every time without fail. 

(And there’s the ever-negging fear that one day he’ll grow sick of the cycle. 

On one hand, you hope he does. It hurts him more than it does you, and you hate to watch him leave. Yet on the other, more volatile hand – you pray he fucks you so well you forget your reserve, that he breeds and carries you away from this hole you’ve dug yourself in.) 

For now, though–

For now, you lift the shirt off his frame. He’s let his chest-hair grow since you met him last, and if you strain to remember, he’s gotten bulkier. Abs more pronounced, with pecs that bounce when you graze your nails down his side. It’s refined, a look that makes him appear older. You swoop down to lick his neck, moaning hotly once you reach his mouth. 

“You been working out, Mig?” 

“For you, hermosa. Figured you’d like me better like this.” He groans, kneading the flesh of your thighs. His fingers dip into the waistband of your underwear, snapping it on your skin in an explicit plea to take it off. 

“And who told you that?” You say, acquiescing, working the lacey strip off your hips. Your cunt sucks at it, belligerent in letting go now that it’s soaked the fabric through. 

“A couple I met. They remind me of us.” His head follows yours when you draw away from an attempted kiss. It’s unintentional, done to stand off and strip completely, yet his reaction to it sends little tremors of pleasure to your core. “Of what we could be.” 

“Shhhh.” Once you’re completely bare, tits freed from your tank top, you straddle him again, a little higher this time. His waist is cinched enough to allow you to do so with little fuss, tendons at the top of your thighs aching only slightly. “Make me feel good, please.” 

“Of course.” 

His thumb presses down on your swollen clit, holding it in place while you arch your back and trap it underneath you – sandwiching it between your mound and his midriff. The pressure is electric, charged to fervency, buzzing as it lights every nerve ending from your waist below. And three thrusts forth and back see to it that he’s slick, lubed with the juices that gradually seep from your needy slit. 

The sight, the sensations, the thought that he’s putting effort outside of this room for you – they all make you exceedingly weak. Your legs wobble, practically jello, spine made out of sand and unable to support you fully. Miguel stays firm, one large paw squeezing your breast and the other at your pelvis. You’d ask him to help, to move you against him until you see stars, but a stone lodges in your throat and prevents the words from finding clarity. 

It’s guilt, of that you’re familiar, but for a number of things; the fact that he would help you seek pleasure in spite of his own – his erection left abandoned under the confines of his pants. The idea of desecrating his hard work, those muscles made pronounced, with your filth without fully appreciating it first. For everything, everything, and it’s so crushing that you stop moving altogether. 

“No, no. C’mon, pretty. Keep going.” He begs, pelvis thrusting up with need. You shove your arm behind you, seeking out the zipper keeping him from you, palming his hard length with clumsy assurance “Don’t worry about me. Wanna feel you cum on my abs. Gonna lick you clean after. We have forever if you’d let me. There’s no rush.” 

No rush. It’s far from the typical Miguel sentiment, and you blink in perplexed contemplation. But he just grins, brows knitting up with reverence. 

“Did these people also teach you to take your time?” You struggle to say patience, because he’s always been patient with you. 

“Something along the lines.” He mutters, suddenly sheepish. His fangs always intrude when his tone is quiet, like they’re intentionally making him difficult to understand. He knows he’s special to you when you try to decipher it nonetheless. 

“Don’t be making me jealous, now.” You taunt, dipping to bite his lip. It’s fun to pull up, up, until he whines and shoves you harder onto him. Achingly empty and close to cumming on his abdomen alone. Slowly, you start to gyrate again, riding unrelenting sinew. And in the meanwhile, you manage to get his zipper undone, sneaking your hand beneath his briefs.

“I’ll explain lat… later, p-promise.” 

“I don’t doubt it. F-Fuck,” Somehow, the pleasure is simultaneously heavenly and not enough, this little game you decided to engage in tiptoeing the line. He’s good even when he isn’t trying, just laying there, pinching pebbled nipples with enough callousness that it aches in the best way. On your first date – which wasn’t really a date, but a happenstance meeting at your father’s shady bar – he’d been hesitant to hurt you like you wanted. The best he could do was pepper your neck with sore hickeys, pocketed in the back alley, touch kinder than any you’d experienced before. “Oh my god.”

“Y-You’re so soft. My gorgeous girl. So soft and… and pretty when you do that.”

“Mig.” You wail, useless in properly pumping his pulsing cock. It’s all you can do to palm the head, smearing prespend all over his velvet tip. And it’s hard, like smelted iron, throbbing hot and heavy. It’s been so long since you’ve had it in you that you’re sure it’ll take some effort to fit. The abstraction fills you with desperation so poignant that you start moving faster, rougher, seeking an end where you’re stuffed full yet doing nothing to actually achieve it. 

That is, until–

“What do you need?” He asks.

Your hole clenches. Your guts knot together. Your orgasm gathers, full and sloshing wet, trapped behind the wall he’s been breaking down since his arrival. 

“You!” You finally admit. “You.” Softer. 

And when you cum, soaking his middle with shameless indulgence, all he does is flip you over to settle beneath him. The couch rocks with the sudden upheaval, threatening collapse, so he keeps a firm hold of your shoulders, kneeling between your quivering thighs. His breadth bobs from over his pants – you don’t recall taking it out – purple with restrained pain and just waiting for your cue to allow him entry.

“I’ve got you, cariño.” Miguel hums, positioning himself onto the divet of your cunt when you give a frail nod. “I’ve got you.” 

And you know, of course you do. He’s never backed away from a promise before. Because that is how it is with Miguel.

[incculum]

Can I request a Jake Sully smut?

Jake Sully.

top male reader

nsfw | some violence | some blood | some degradation + praise | spit as lube | grinding | fingering | orgasm denial once | brief choking | sir kink | brief mating press | creampie

a/n: disappeared again, mb. been waiting for someone to request something for Avatar and got a request for Jake on valentines which was kind of sweet. this has some plot & I still can't come up with titles.

You didn’t know exactly how to feel when Grace patted you on the back in empathy when it was announced you'd be Jake Sully's partner for the mission. You never bothered to become friendly with him. In the beginning, you only tolerated him because you had no choice. But you had to admit he was attractive and the fact that he was never subtle with his glances towards you, whether you were in your avatar or not, made him all the more appealing.

You started to reciprocate his stares when they became overwhelmingly apparent. He could never hold himself back from looking when you stretched or did any sort of physical work and you began to silently feed into his infatuation by taking up any physical job available just to see him blush.

He really was adorable when he wasn't embarrassing himself.

The only difference in your staring is that you didn't look away in surprise of being caught. Jake always looked away first, regardless of who was doing the staring. Sure, it was cute, and you liked the way his eyes got all cat-like when he was surprised and how noticeable his dilated pupils were in those golden eyes of his avatar when he was looking at something he liked.

You wanted to be the sole cause of those wide eyes and dilated pupils.

-

On his first mission, Jake ended up on his own in the Pandora forest. You watched Grace's shoulders drop with a defeated sigh when you lost sight of him. Both Grace and Norm looked at you with pity written all over their faces.

"You know what to do," Grace spoke and Norm nodded. You sighed and pushed yourself off of the tree you were leaning on, turning towards the dense jungle without a word.

You stepped over colourful flowers and pushed the leaves blocking your path away carefully. You knew how the na'vi felt about the nature around them and the last thing you wanted to do was anger the race you were tasked to essentially befriend.

-

You found Jake waving around a self-made torch in the dark to ward off the viperwolves swarming him. You got him out of the situation with the cost of a bitten arm and the moonlight as your only light source left.

Jake advanced towards you, wincing when he caught sight of your new wound. He put one hand onto your shoulder and grabbed your wrist with his other to get a better look at the wound,

"Shit, I'm so fucking sorry I-"

"You're a fucking idiot. Why would you light a fire in a forest full of wild animals?! What were you thinking?!" You interrupted him, unable to hold back your irritation. Jake's ears immediately flattened and his eyes went wide. He looked just like a kicked puppy.

"I'm sorry, okay? I don't know what I was thinking! I was just tryin' not to die!" He was too puppy-looking to look angry and was just trying to justify himself to you at that point. He knew he did something wrong. You knew that, too. You tilted your head back and sighed deeply. Jake somehow looked even guiltier. 

"Just shut up." You pulled your arm away from his grip and pushed him against the closest tree by his shoulders.

"What-" You covered his mouth with your hand.

You were using the attack as an excuse to press yourself against him. "Don't want any more of those things coming back, yeah?"

Jake swallowed and nodded when you removed your hand from his mouth. He looked down to avoid eye contact when you dropped your head and clenched your jaw in pain. He'd almost forgotten about the bite. "Listen, I... I'm sorry, okay?"

His gaze unintentionally fell towards your arms which now rested by the sides of his head, and traced upwards to your shoulders. You wore a tank top, and he wondered if you knew just how much he liked those on you. You knew, and you wondered if he knew you wore them just for him. He didn't. Not yet.

"I get it, already, Sully." You groaned out in pain, though it was finally beginning to dull. Your nose bumped against Jake's collarbone and he found himself raising an arm to wrap around your neck to pull you closer. Your laboured breath fanned his neck and he suddenly became aware of the desperate heat pooling in his stomach. Your quiet groans weren't helping.

Jake's mind began to wander as he bit his lip.

"Jake," your muffled voice pulled him out of his thoughts. Your lips brushed against his neck when you spoke and his self-restraint was wearing thin. The want was now burning in his stomach.

He brought his other arm around your neck and swallowed. "Yeah?"

"You okay?" He nodded and inhaled sharply when you shifted your leg. "Yeah. …Listen, I-" Your knee pressing against his hard-on stopped him.

"I know." You couldn't hold yourself back from pulling away to watch his eyes widen further and his ears pin back. He really was adorable.

"You- ah!" Jake nearly whined, screwing his eyes shut when you sunk your fangs into his neck and moved your knee further in between his legs. He rolled his hips against your thigh, head falling forward. "Fuck-!" You felt his whine reverberate against your lips. He made it so easy to forget about your wound, still slowly oozing blood.

"Thought I wouldn't catch you staring at me all those times? You were so obvious, it was cute." You couldn't help but smile when Jake could barely get his words out through his panting.

"D-didn't mind if... you noticed- mmf!" He bit his lip when you lifted your thigh and immediately tightened the hold he had on you, suddenly feeling too weak to stand on his own. You pulled him down to the ground and towards a softer patch of grass.

Jake pulled you back when you tried to free your neck from his hold. You chuckled, "relax, I'm not going anywhere." You knew that you should've headed back as soon as you found Jake or at least contacted Grace to let her and Norm know you were still alive, but you got tired of waiting for him to make the first move. You couldn't restrain yourself any longer, not when Jake's eyes were still unfocused and his bottom lip was shiny with spit.

He rested on his elbows, still breathing heavily and watching you hook your uninjured arm around his legs. You pulled him towards yourself and he fell flat on his back with a yelp. "Asshole.."

"Shut it." You reprimanded him with a pinch of his thigh through his pants. The corners of your lips twitched when Jake hissed through his teeth in response.

"Asshole."

You were beginning to get fed up with him and the sudden return of his pride. "You've got no right to speak to me that way with the shit you pulled today."

Everything about Jake's appearance screamed guilty. His new avatar body was failing him in hiding what he felt. You took his silence as agreement and spread his thighs, pulling them around your waist. Jake groaned when you pushed your hips against his, your clothed cocks grinding together. His hips twitched and he groaned louder, painfully sensitive.

"Shit..! M'gonna-" You pulled back and Jake whined. "F-fuck you!"

You pressed your hand against his throat, "What did I just say? Are you that fucking stupid? Lost your brains without me even fucking them out?" You didn't miss Jake's thighs pressing against your sides harder at your words. He stared at you with wide eyes when you applied pressure with your fingers and you felt his Adam's apple bob under your palm when he swallowed.

"No... sir." Your own hard-on was getting hard to ignore and you lost the patience to entertain Jake any further. You removed your hand from his throat to undo his belt hastily. Jake lifted his hips and you pulled off his pants and underwear.

You let a glob of spit drop from your tongue onto your fingers and pressed them against his hole. Jake's breath hitched, "Shit-!" he whined with a hoarse voice when you easily pushed your first finger in.

"Hold on for me, baby. You can do that, right?" Jake nodded with his fingers digging into the dirt. "Use your words, you're a big boy, aren't you?" You pushed your middle finger in to the knuckle and twisted your wrist, just to hear Jake's strangled moan. You'd barely even done anything and he was already melting at your touch.

"Yes! Y-yes, sir, I can!" You could feel yourself smiling.

"Good." You pressed another finger, scissoring against his spongy walls. You knew he had to have fingered himself before with how easy it was to press your fingers into his hole. Jake was driving you crazy and you wondered how much more you could take before you snapped. His chest was heaving and he almost choked on his moans when your third and fourth fingers were forced into his greedy hole. You curled your fingers and watched Jake's eyes shut and his back arch off of the ground.

Not being able to wait any longer, you pulled your hand back and undid your own belt. Jake's eyes snapped open when the clinking of your buckle was heard and he lifted his head to watch you pull your heavy cock out of the confines of your pants. He bit his lip when you spread your pre-cum on your cock with your slick hand and pressed the tip against his gaping hole.

You traced Jake's greedy hole with the tip of your dick, not being able to hold yourself back from teasing him any moment you got.

"C'mon... Please, sir.." He spoke through a muffled whine. You forced the tip of your fat cock into Jake's hole and his hips jerked in response, ankles locking together behind your lower back. He pulled you in closer and gripped onto your shoulders with tight fists.

You pushed in, chasing the heat and tightness of Jake's hole, perfect just for you. Your balls slapped against his ass when you bottomed out and you rested your hands beside his head. "Fuhuuck..." He groaned out and his pupils in those golden eyes of his dilated so prettily in the moonlight. Jake's deep moan was muffled when you leaned down to press your lips against his for the first time. He brought his hand to the back of your head to keep you from pulling away too soon.

Jake let you move back after a pause, lifting his chin to chase your lips and letting you pull out until your tip was caught on his rim before slamming back into his addicting heat. A moan was ripped from his throat and he dug his fingers into your neck when your tip pistolled against his prostate repeatedly.

"You're being so good f'me, now, aren't you?" Jake moaned pathetically in response, clenching down on your cock and doing his best to nod while getting pushed into the grass with the force of your thrusts.

You brought one hand to his cock, rubbing your thumb against the tip. Jake's moans raised in volume and pitch and he couldn't even begin to be embarrassed when his voice began to crack. You fisted his cock and thrusted in and out of his desperate hole, finally letting him catch up to the orgasm he was chasing.

"Fuck fuck fuck-! I'm-" Jake couldn't end his breathy warning before cumming on his and your stomachs and his ridden-up shirt. You groaned when he clenched down on your cock perfectly. Your thrusts didn't slow and he let go of your neck to fist the fabric on your chest. "W-wait! I just-!" He broke off into a fit of hoarse moans, throwing his head back.

You stopped for a moment to unhook his legs from around your waist and push his knees against his chest by the backs of his thighs. Your cock plunged in even deeper and you fucked yourself into Jake's guts desperately, his shaky moans only spurring you on. God, how you wished you'd done this sooner. You looked up to Jake's face. His eyes were screwed shut and he had drool running down his chin from his open mouth. That was the final push as the heat in your stomach burst and your cum spilled into Jake's warmth, painting his guts white.

Moving your hips slightly, you watched the ring of white that formed around your cock. Jake clumsily gripped onto your wrist when you shifted your hips to pull out.

"Again.. Please, sir." He grinned.

[inkwolvesandcoffee]

Coffee & Salted Caramel (Dad Best Friend!John Price Dark Romantic Headcanons)

CoD ML

It takes a moment for John to realise it’s you standing in front of him. However, after carefully scrutinising your face under the guise of a polite smile, there’s a spark of recognition in his pretty blue eyes.

In his defence, the last time he saw you was about ten years ago when you were an awkward teen just entering puberty. So little could have prepared him for seeing you now, blossomed into a beautiful young woman.

He doesn’t go in for a hug or a handshake, though it looks like the latter. Nevertheless, as soon as you’ve placed your hand in his, John brings your knuckles to his lips and kisses them. “My lady.”

The dark satisfaction blossoming in his chest due to your flabbergasted expression is carefully concealed behind a cheeky smile. A smile which is easily mistaken as amused, kind.

Without any other implications than friendship.

Picks you up from work if you’re working late and during winter. If you’re working the morning shift and therefore have to be there early, he’ll escort you to make sure you’re alright. At first John tells himself he’s simply being a gentleman, a proper captain. Moreover, he’s doing his best friend a service by keeping his daughter safe.

From men like him.

To keep you for himself.

Your father may or may not have let slip you go to the gym. A comment in which John saw a golden opportunity to get closer to you and reconnect. Or, rather, truly connect.

So you now find yourself three times a week working out alongside your father’s best friend, who kindly picks you up and drops you off after each session.

Who you’ve noticed glaring and sometimes even downright scowling at the other men there. Especially when he’s acting as your personal trainer.

Ngl, he makes for a good workout partner. Of course he respects your boundaries, but gradually tries to push you beyond them. Henceforth, when one week you swear you won’t be able to do a deadlift with 10kg on either side, you find yourself more than capable the next.

Though he’d never admit it, John loves showing off his strength and size. He might be middle aged, but he sure is still as capable, if not more, than in his younger years.

Another thing he’d keep a secret is how you wearing a choker tempts him to submit fully to instinct, play dangerously with the thought of claiming or, rather, owning you.

Frequently takes you out for hikes, picnics (weather permitting), trips around the country, and coffee. Whereas your father regards the outings with his best friend as enrichment because you two don’t get to do that stuff and acts of kindness, John actually sees them as unofficial dates.

Small moments during which he can properly fancy himself your partner.

You sing as a side hustle and have landed a performance at John’s favourite pub. Now, being a good friend to your father and simply being kind, he offers for you to stay overnight at his place. After all, the venue is too far from home to make it there afterwards safely.

Despite being seated in the back amongst the shadows, you feel John’s eyes on you throughout the show. Little do you know he occasionally closes his eyes, shutting out the world to enjoy your voice. It’s a lullaby that temporarily puts the rage seething beneath his skin to rest.

Gets grumpy when a guy approaches you to strike up a conversation after you’re done.

John knows you’re your own person and yet here he is, sulking and brooding over a pint because of a nagging sense he knows is unjustified. For fuck’s sake, you’re his best friend’s daughter! What the hell would you do with a guy his age, damaged beyond repair and haunted by ghosts?

Yet, he stands before you in no time and roughly grabs your wrist, dragging you behind him towards the exit. “On your feet. We’re leaving.”

On the way to his house, his grip remains iron-like regardless of how you struggle, whimper, beg, and try to pry his hand loose. Nonetheless, he remains as quiet, as tight-lipped, as when you ask him about his years in the army. Only when you call out his name with an ugly sob does he let go.

You flinch and step back when he turns around and comes closer, mortified by his fuming expression. John takes a deep breath, wishing he could kick himself in the face now that he finally sees how he hurt you. Moreover, in spite of his own disregard of rules and protocol, this type of behaviour would put any good captain to shame. That is, when directed at a loved one rather than a teammate. “I… I’m sorry.”

“What’s this about?” His gaze remains steady on the ground, even when you come closer to bridge the distance between you. “What’s gotten into you?”

“I don’t know, poppet. Maybe it’s just the pints that get me a bit violent. Drank one too many.”

“John-“

“Let’s go home.” Hands tucked into his pockets, he turns on his heel and starts walking again. He’d hold your hand, but after that little incident he’s too terrified to touch you. More than that, he grows bleak at the thought this or similar incidents which perhaps have yet to occur will eventually lead to you resenting him.

With you, he doesn’t want to be Captain Price.

He wants to be a man rather than a soldier.

A man properly caring for his girl by making sure she doesn’t want for anything.

Trying to sweep the incident on the street under the rug once you’re at his place, John stands in the doorway to the guest room as he watches you rummage in your bag. “Something wrong, love? Forgot your post-concert snack stash?”

You share his smile, the idea of glaring at him evaporated the moment you lock eyes. “Very funny, John.”

“I can make us something, though, if you’re still hungry. I ain’t a good cook, but I think I can manage scrambled eggs on an English muffin. Sober enough for that, at least.”

“I’m alright. Still, thanks. Turns out, I forgot my pyjamas.”

“You can lend a shirt. Let me find one.”

A wee while later, after being occupied a little too long with picking something for you to wear and distracted by the strain in his pants, he returns with a hoodie. He’d rather you be too hot than cold.

“Arms up, doll face.” Without questioning the nickname, you do as he says. His breath hitches as you wriggle into his hoodie, staring up at him with doe eyes.

It takes every ounce of self-control not to pick you up, twirl you around, and tuck you into bed. Say what you will, but beneath the lust there’s the genuine want to take care of you.

Distrustful of his hands, he crosses his arms and nods to the bed. “Hit the hay. I’ll make sure there’s breakfast, so don’t worry about that.”

“Thank you. Goodnight, John.”

He almost breaks, almost reaches out to pat your head to satisfy himself as much as he allows himself. But he doesn’t. “Goodnight, love.”

Nothing could have prepared him for seeing you do Pilates in the morning.

He stops in the doorway, frozen in place by fascination and the feeling he hasn’t been able to shake off since seeing you again for the first time in forever. Honestly, seeing you stretch and bend this way and that doesn’t help him think any clearer either. In fact, it only throws him deeper down the rabbit hole created by the fantasy of you pinned beneath him, breathless and whimpering his name as he has his way with you.

And he just dealt with his morning wood before coming downstairs.

As silent as a ghost, John slips back upstairs to calm himself down yet again, only leaving the bedroom when he hears you in the shower.

We all know perfectly well why I had to include this particular gif. And no, I’m not sorry.😝😹

Using the towels he prepared for you last night before dragging his ossified arse to bed.

Breakfast is elaborate with croissants, freshly brewed coffee (and your favourite syrup to put in it, salted caramel), orange juice, bread, jams, yogurt, and fruit. The food extravaganza makes you stop in your tracks to take in the sight.

“Thought I’d surprise you and apologize for last night. I stepped out of line.” John settles down and gestures to the one across from him. “Please.”

You nod, still too flabbergasted by the feast.

After a few moments of eating and drinking in silence, you pose the question which has been weighing heavily on your mind. “Why did you really act like that?”

“Guys like that want nothing but sex with a pretty young thing.” Despite the casual tone, his gruff voice is strained as he pours you another cup of coffee. After adding enough syrup to make it to your liking, he slides the cup towards you. “Besides, I promised your dad I’d watch over you, keep you safe.”

You glance to the side. “Bullshit. Like I’m that pretty.”

“You are. I’m surprised you don’t see how easily you can wrap any man around your finger.”

“Right. Let’s say you’re correct. I still don’t know how to… you know… have… sex.”

“Suppose you haven’t found the right person yet. Someone with the patience to take you through the motions. Who wants to take the time to love you right, map every detail of your body and learn what makes you shiver.” His eyes darken. “Someone with experience.”

Prompted by the way he sees you squirm in your seat and the front you try to put up despite the blush on your cheeks, he stands up to walk over to your side. “Someone who’s loyal. Faithful. Committed,” his breath is hot on your ear as his fingers touch your cheek, finding you pliable, your senses full of his cologne and presence, “to you. Maybe also someone who’s a little older.”

Before you can respond, John’s lips are on yours. His beard feels ticklish, but surprisingly much smoother than you thought it would be. A pleased hum reverberates in his chest when you run your fingers through it.

A lovely sound that turns into a gasp when you push him away, horrified as the truth sinks in. For nothing is more terrifying than common sense.

“I…” you begin, grasping at straws to explain yourself. It doesn’t help your heart cracks at the sight of the sadness in his eyes, badly concealed beneath the mask of the composed and determined captain.

“Y/N-“

“I should go.”

Judging by your tone, John knows he won’t be able to explain himself. “I’ll pack up some food. Have it along the way. A soldier isn’t anything if they don’t have a full stomach.”

“Text me when you’re home.” He can see the fight between confusion and affection rage in your eyes. “So I’ll know you’re safe. It might be broad daylight, but that doesn’t mean nothing won’t happen. Please, Y/N,” the way he says your name with an uncharacteristic plea hidden beneath barely composed sternness makes you waiver. “Just a text. That’s all I ask.”

“Alright.” You pull out your phone, create a new contact, and keep your gaze down towards the screen. “Spill the secret info, captain.”

After a moment’s hesitation, John curls his finger beneath your chin to tip it upwards. There’s a tremble in his hand as he cups your cheek, afraid you’ll pull away.

Change your mind.

And leave him behind.

“Promise?”

You nod, slightly leaning into his touch. “I promise.”

Packed up, the shirt he gave you the first thing to find its way into your bag, and his number in your phone, you silently leave. You know that once you turn around you’ll run right back to him, to what he can offer you. Nonetheless, to avoid problems with your father, you keep walking.

John’s gaze hot on your back, drinking salted caramel coffee.

I might turn this into a proper fic. Ah dinnae ken when or how, but what’s for sure already is that I’ve got plenty thoughts and ideas.😉

[ciphykiss]

< incubus (ii) >

blade x f!reader; implied nsfw (only un-explicit part), mdni (implied) somnophilia

a/n: second part of incubus, but stave off the thirst for now XD

“Declined.”

You blink, once, twice, dazed—you count every checkered tile in your peripheral vision, wondering if you’d misheard. Bewildered, you straighten from your previously bowed stance, head tilted to the side. Jingyuan pays you no mind, bent over a fortune scroll stamped with Master Diviner Fuxuan’s insignia. Behind him, Yanqing can only stare, wide-eyed.

“Excuse me?”

Those infuriating, once captivating (but now more serpentine than anything else) golden eyes peer up at you, unperturbed. “Upon careful evaluation, it has been deemed that [Name] of Cloudford’s maximum security detention center is to remain deployed at her post indefinitely—until the case of the stellaron hunter is sealed and closed.”

“By whom?” You demand, fists clenching the fabric of your dress. “‘Indefinitely’? Exactly how long is that? This is ridiculous, and against the very rights printed on Section 35 of the Luofonian Codex—”

“By me.” Jingyuan rests his scroll atop his checkerboard. “And I’m sure you’re aware by now, but the Codex also states every Arbiter General is free to exempt and circumvent said articles when deemed necessary.”

“You can’t be serious,” you hiss, slamming your hands over the table; you see Yanqing bristle, hands cleaving for his sword, and Jingyuan has to raise a hand to temper his retinue that had, no doubt, risen to their feet and aimed rifles at your head. You pay them no mind; the vampire-bruises from last night sting as a reminder of your paranormal plight, caked under layers of foundation and color corrector. There’s an odd sting that shoots up your left leg, making it slightly difficult to stand upright. “You’re making me a prisoner of the flagship?”

Jingyuan sighs, resting his chin on a hand; ah, it’s that attitude again, all unbridled kindness and fleeting exasperation, like waves atop a morning sea. Over time, it spells more patronizing than it does calming, and urges you to reenact the more violent (and less whorish) parts of your lucid dreams. Your fingers twitch at the sight of his unmarred cheek.

“Why must you always assume the worst of me, my dear assistant?”

A droll stare. “You uprooted a fresh graduate from her position as amicassador, took advantage of her naivete to weasel in mutable terms in her contract, had her work an eight to ten schedule with unpaid overtime, and encouraged said amicassador graduate with no background in combat to cross-examine one of the most wanted criminals in the galaxy.”

“First of all, what you are not paid in overtime is delivered to you in the forms of generous bonuses and an exceptional annual raise,” Jingyuan argues, scandalized by your declarations. Even Yanqing looks to him accusingly now. “And as for your meeting with… our newest problem, well, that’s a result of your own belligerence, isn’t it?” He taps his table with his knuckle, the first signs of irritation stretching over his usually composed visage. “You were instructed to meet with me as soon as you arrived on scene. If you had, I would’ve taken the time to inform you of what you were getting yourself into, and the risks associated.”

You throw your hands up in the air. “Well, fuck me for not considering my employer would throw little old me into a foray of top ten most wanted killers! I don’t know what you want me to say, Jingyuan, especially considering how little regard you’ve shown me for my entire career at your stupid post.” Your lips curl. “And you wonder why your turnover rate looks like it crawled out of Tingyun’s first year exam scores. Unbelievable.”

“Mind your tongue; there are children present,” Jingyuan snaps, but neither you nor his blond heir really give a damn. In fact, Yanqing looks like he’s fighting a smile. At least someone found the situation funny. “Regardless—this is a decision that has been agreed upon by both Diviner Fu and I. Thus, your resignation request has been… well, rescinded.”

His lips twitch into an almost-smile, and despite sounding like he meant official business, you can tell the bastard is enjoying this. You gaze mutely at the hastily-scrawled resignation essays you’d filled out at 6 AM over coffee stains and ink splatters, untouched beside a gold, ornate vase on the Jingyuan’s table; the general raises a brow at your lack of ire, likely expecting glares or creative (but politely-framed, as to not earn a bullet to the back of your head) death threats by now.

Instead, you smile. Jingyuan immediately grows wary.

“Article 6, subsection 23,” you purr, “Any defamation or destruction of property belonging to the Arbiter-General of the Xianzhou Luofu will result in the permanent termination of said civil servant’s contract; punishments include, but may not be limited to, a six-month leave of absence from all organized labor.”

You grin. Jingyuan’s eyes widen.

“...whatever it is you’re planning, do no—”

“I think I’m long overdue for a vacation, don’t you, general?” You sing, and the general and his compatriots can only watch in slack-jawed horror as you raise the vase (an armistice gift from the Marshall Hua) and send it shattering onto the tile.

Deathly silence fills the halls of Jingyuan’s palace. Jingyuan doesn’t look up at you when he speaks, low and gritted, as damningly close to murderous as you’d ever heard him.

“Take her away. Solitary confinement. Two hours—then ensure she returns to her duties. This time, I want completion.”

Your smile drops.

“You—!”

And then you’re thrashing, the ends of your heels digging uselessly into the ground. The stupidly beefy arms of his personal guards yank you backwards to your makeshift cell (the infirmary), preventing you from falling backwards on your face.

“You can’t do this to me!” Your shrieks go unacknowledged; Jingyuan is too busy mourning over his dumb vase. “Jingyuan, you bastard! This is a violation of my rights! Terminate me! Throw me in jail! Anything but back there!”

Yanqing glances over the broken shards glinting over filtered sunlight. “General… is it really okay to let her go like that?”

The silver-haired man sighs, weary and a thousand years older than his already-dreaded age; he picks up a shard and examines it for any signs of salvageability (there are none). “Despite her… grievances, Diviner Fu has already determined her ‘likely favorable but not quite necessary’ for this case. I’m afraid she would’ve had to stay regardless. Though I do wish my dear assistant was even a smidgen more… agreeable.”

“—I knew I should’ve let Tingyun leak your 18+ sauna album! Just you watch, Jingyuan, after I’m through—”

“She has what.”

ꨄ︎

“—so please, for the love of all Aeons, I don’t care if it’s your stripper alias or Foxian Beauty & Haircare handle, just please, give me something to work with,” you groan, finding yourself at the mercy of the selectively mute space murderer with both your clothes and hair disheveled from fighting off (clawing at) Jingyuan’s men. Your throat aches from two hours of screeching obscenities, begging for mercy, and finally, prayer (unfortunately, you’d never been pious, and Lan had likely forsaken you by now). You’d thrashed, flipped the nursing cot upside down, shattered glass vials against the walls, and fallen to a half-dead heap on the floor by the time you were dragged in to resume bio-data collection.

If he registers your incessant whining, the space-criminal doesn’t show it; he says nothing for a long while until the void fills with the sound of incessant pen-tapping against your digital clipboard.

His mouth bends into a frown. “Stop that.”

“So he speaks,” you drawl, sarcastic. “Tell you what—why don’t you share your introductions with the class—me—and I’ll stop yammering. Easy as that.”

“Is it necessary?” He inquires cryptically. “Why don’t you just ask that general of yours—I’m sure Jingyuan would be able to sate your curiosity.”

Your rhythmic tapping ceases. “You know Jingyuan?”

That, he doesn’t answer; you observe him as he lapses back into silence, as dark and brooding as ever before, and feel the welts on your neck itch, an obtrusive reminder of your night terror (your dubbing isn’t quite accurate, but the label makes you feel better about yourself). Then, you resume clacking your pen in tribute to the morning show you’d catch glimpses of on the way to hell (work), and observe the tick working on the man’s jaw.

“...Blade,” he says at last, the word cutting like the edge of a serrated knife; you blink. Blade. The name suits him, somehow—all edge and red, like the backdrop of a battlefield. “...but here, Ren.”

You’re tearing through the bio-data form like a storm; two lines is enough. You’ll make it enough. Blade/Ren. Affiliation: likely Xianzhounian. Fabric points to a prime of at least five-hundred years prior; further trace collection is needed. Picture comparison of clothing necessary for evaluation. Suspected relation with Luofu General—unsure if this is an attempt to derail from questioning/true identity. Unlikely, but possible. Discouraged communication style. Psychiatric evaluation necessary; put-off by rhythmic tapping. Likely suffers from heightened senses; could be a result of battle-trauma or mixed genetics (both?). Likely a Xianzhou Native; probable Homo celestinae, blood testing required for confirmation.

“Blade,” you murmur, and the name rests oddly comfortably in your mouth; a strange moniker, but it sounds almost sweet when you say it, as if meant to be spoken. The man—Blade—shifts, not out of discomfort or regulation, but as the first non-forced physical acknowledgment you’d managed to wrench out from him. 

His lips curve into a sneer when you continue scritching.

“All figured out, from just a name,” he mocks. You raise a brow.

“Does that offend you?” You tap your pen in thought, conjuring up the next bullet point. Easily offended by assumptions. Possible insecurity? 

To your surprise, he grazes a smile—but not your regular, run-of-the-mill grin. It’s malefic, a touch depraved, like staring into a hollow skull. “No. Fantasize all you want. So as long I ruin you in every end.”

You nearly drop your clipboard.

“I could ruin you,” his voice echoes. “I could make it burn. You would dream of me in the waking world, cry for me in the dreaming. A slave to passion, day and night; hardly sleeping, hardly eating, merely breathing…” 

No. Impossible. There’s no way—it can’t be—

Gingerly, you finger the skin over your pulse point. The bruised kiss hisses upon contact; you feel the hummingbird-flutter of your own heartbeat.

“Do you dream?”

You don’t know why you blurt that particular phrase; you suppose it’s more acceptable than “did we almost-fuck in my (our?) dream last night”. Still, you observe the intergalactic space criminal with heightened scrutiny, wishing (now more than ever) he didn’t have that cursed blindfold on.

You never realized just how much is missed from the eyes alone.

If there’s any reaction, he doesn’t show it; his next words are mere remnants of what they should be, like bones atop carcass.

“I do not recall the last I dreamt.”

You swallow, the first needles of paranoia sinking into your spine. That should be answer enough. But you wonder why it feels like a dance between confirmation and indifference; anything but denial. Suddenly, you think you hate him; his archaic, cryptic remarks, his riddles and his ambiguity.

“Not worthy enough for recording?” he cuts through the silence, the cruelty of a half-smile gallivanting across your vision. You realize you’d been spaced out, pen hanging between downturned fingers, and curse.

“...think nothing of it,” you mutter. You deem the passage worthy enough for Jingyuan’s approval (it isn’t) and chuck the pen backwards. It dematerializes into the confines of your clipboard. “I should offer you my services once more, but I’m sure neither of us truly wishes for that. A word of advice—behave yourself, and the general might allow you to roam the cell unshackled for certain hours. I’m sure there’s nothing you want more than a hairbrush by now,” you snort. Blade doesn’t reply.

“Danyin,” you murmur, catching the man by his cuff when you exit the hall; he looks frazzled, as if half-expecting you to return with a missing limb (likely a touch disappointed when you don’t; you don’t consider yourself particularly lenient when forced into this scummy duty). “Do me a favor. I want you to place a recording device outside his cell; one of those high-tech thermal ones that can navigate through the dark.”

Danyin pales. “D-digital recordings—any recording—outside what is sanctioned by the general himself is strictly prohibited! I don’t even have cle—”

You unclasp your wristwatch and replace it with Danyin’s own; the man can only babble out a half-hearted protest when you do, mourning his defeat already.

“I’d do it myself, but I’m not exactly out of general douche-canoe’s radar,” you sigh, tightening the clasp. Danyin mumbles something about hiring an underwriter for his will, to which you offer a sunny grin and a pat on the back. “I’m counting on you, friend!”

He mutters something about you being as shitty as Jingyuan. You pretend not to hear it.

ꨄ︎

“A dream demon?” Tingyun snorts, pushing the newly-gifted sunglasses she’d received from a Yaoqing merchant that served as General Feixiao’s retinue down her nose. “You can’t be serious. Please tell me you didn’t make me cancel my hair appointment to play therapist for your psychotic break. How many times did I tell you to just quit and work with me in—”

You yank down the collar of your dress, having wiped off the excess makeup in the restaurant bathroom prior. “Look.”

“For the love of—oh. Oh.” She tilts her frames downwards, viridescent hues assessing the damage. “You got yourself a suckerfish? Careful with those—one starskiff romp shimmied into your lunchbreak and they think they own you.”

“Actually, my very preventable trauma from waking up next to Dai—Daiqiu? Daiqing? Has rendered me unable to pursue any bedmates since,” you sniff. Tingyun rolls her eyes.

“You sure you didn’t wobble into Inferno after your shift and had a couple shots too many? We all know it’s all south after your third martini. And your impairment the following morning.”

“You and I both know I don’t get off until midnight, and you were there when we both got banned from Inferno!”

“Maybe if you hadn’t laughed at the owner’s son and called him fossilized when he asked for a three—”

“He was at least as old as my grandfather, Ting! Without the Jingyuan-tier looks to make up for it!”

“Jingyuan isn’t that old—wait, do you still have a crush on him? What happened to—”

“That’s beside the point!” You swat her hand off the straw of her mid-afternoon cocktail, knocking her jade bracelet against the glass. The heat of it fogs the hexagons scattering rainbows onto the counter, and you are acutely reminded of the matching anklet that dangles on your left, forever warm and secured to your person. “I know you barely passed history—”

“Hey.”

“—but Foxian history can be traced as far back as the Long’s Scions, can it not? Surely there has to be something you picked up over the years. Maybe some old stories, some superstition…”

“[Name],” Tingyun sighs, “are you seriously asking me if I remember any bedtime stories?”

“So there is? Something, I mean?”

“You’re honestly better off taking that to a Vidyadhara historian or a senior Xianzhou Native,” Tingyun admits, to which your face cripples, because Aeons knows your social life had been reduced to zilch after your recruitment (and there was no way you’d press the matter to Jingyuan; you had no doubt he and Diviner Fu could grapple onto the dirtiest details of your midnight escapades). She swishes her drink with her straw in thought. “Foxian lifespans are but fleeting compared to the stories of our other long-lived peers; what are four hundred years, after all, to rebirth and a thousand?”

It’s said with a twinge of envy; you know Tingyun is not like Xianzhou commonfolk who dread their existence and eventual descent to madness. Life is—will never be—enough for her, never enough wine to drink, men to seduce; never enough jewelry and lost merchandise for Whistling Flames.

“We do, however, have our love stories—love and lust and betrayal and wroth, they’re quite similar, don’t you think? And the tales of the Foxians pale in comparison to none.”

“This isn’t about love,” is your immediate response. Tingyun arches a fine brow.

“Isn’t it, though?” With that, she reaches out to redo the buttons on your collar. Heat creeps up your ears. “Passion… this is something Foxians are accustomed with. We love our wine and jade, men and women all the same; I’m sure you know this,” she laughs, and you feel the fox-carving against your anklet simmer. “You know of the Xianzhou belief of soul partners, do you not?”

“Of course.” You reach down, absently, to tickle the jade that had been gifted (shackled) to you on your graduation day. “There’s the, erm, chosen ones, right? Bosom friends, sworn brothers—”

“That’s right; and they’re referred to as chosen for a reason.” She points the end of her olive stick at you. “It is the highest form of love, for some; philia, at the end of the day, is a choice,” she ignores your grumble of “where was mine”, “though, arguably, many believe these soul partners were predestined to be in your life. We gift our jade to these soul partners, and the Vidyadhara share a similar custom, but with bracers; warmth indicates the wearer’s partner is alive and well, and there is a belief that these gifts will eventually bring one back to the other, in life, death, dreams, or otherwise.” She narrows her eyes. “Though there’s no reason, seeing as I’d rather be caught dead than star in your rogue fantasies.”

“Wasn’t ever an option,” you mutter.

“There is another, more outdated; I’ve only ever heard stories about it, and some say the encounter died since the plague of abundance ravaged the long-lived. It’s less of a choice, more a force of nature; or so I’ve been told. A bunch of rubbish, honestly, but there does exist stories of another kind of soul partner—one that embodies a more… debauched role. I suppose soulmate is a loose term; these stories have long since been discarded, scoffed at as crude; these are the stories of scorned lovers, of passion, bedroom woes and death and betrayal; truly, nothing worth writing home about. I’m sure we’ve progressed enough as a society to leave behind such primal relics.”

Your head spins at the sudden onslaught of information; you inhale through your nose, pinching the bridge between two fingers. Tingyun finishes the contents of her drink, suckling the heart-shaped straw dry. “And what… what does that have to do with…”

“With your suckerfish?” Tingyun grins, dodging a kick under the table. “I’m getting to that. There’s a story—just one that I can remember, at least. My Lady wasn’t fond of me rummaging through those particular texts.”

“No wonder you turned out to be so godless—ow!”

“...like I was saying. There exists a…largely banned text. A bit blasphemous, but more so an overreaction, on the elders’ part; I’ll spare you the details, but the story can be loosely translated as The Foxian’s Obsession. Not the most creative of titles, I’ll admit, though it is fitting; it weaves the tale of a long-lived Foxian’s adoration of a short-lived fisherman. The woes of past society would not permit her to seek out a man of such fragility, and eventually, the fisherman married; the Foxian, hurt, enraged, and heartbroken, would curse the fisherman to an eternal sleep.”

“Sounds like one of those ex nightmare stories on Foxian Lipstick Alley,” you chortle.

“Imagine being so obsessed,” Tingyun snorts. “Anyways, the wife and family of the comatose fisherman start seeing ‘love marks’ on him, find him dead one day, bleeding from the mouth; the wife is put on trial until they discover news of said Foxian having passed in her sleep, coincidentally, with the same comorbidity.”

“What the fuck.”

“Creepy, isn’t it? Now, if that were the case with you…”

“Tingyun!” You screech. The Foxian snickers at your distress. “This isn’t funny! What if this dude’s some creepy old Foxy spirit disguising himself as some space criminal hunk to get into my pants and commit murder-sui!”

“Your drawers are in need of a seasonal refresh…”

“Tingyun, you bi—”

“Aeons, relax,” the amicassador slaps your arm in poor reassurance. “These are mere whispers of the past. The first starskiff hadn’t even taken flight when it was published. Besides, does your dream demon present with ears and a tail? You know that’s our one indisputable giveaway…”

“...no, he doesn’t,” you begrudge, a sigh of relief escaping you. Tingyun rolls her eyes.

“Then there you have it. I’m sure this is just a consequence of your ridiculous work hours—how many times must I tell you stress is bad for beauty? You’re even losing pockets of memory…”

“...you’re right. That must be it.”

“So? what happened to your resignation letter?”

“Don’t get me started—”

You vent the happenings of this morning to Tingyun, who, for the first time, appears rather irked; it’s not a common look for the Foxian, as leisurely and unbothered as a nepo-child of Lady Yukong can be, though you suppose even she has her limits on witnessing you falling victim to workplace abuse.

Throughout the conversation, you concoct the margins of your plan; the cameras should be set up by now, if Danyin is at least half-competent. You touch your now-fading love bites and make a mental note to pick up another bottle of fantasia.

If working with Jingyuan blessed you with any positives, it’s your seasoned thirst for vengeance—and the earlier you act, the swifter (and sweeter) your prize.

Perhaps it was a fluke. Perhaps it was a once-in-a-lifetime, paranormal encounter—but on the off chance it isn’t, well, now you’d be prepared.

Because if he can ruin you, who’s to say you can’t return the favor?

[gremlin-girly]

Kinktober Day 11

Kink: Manhandling, enemies AND lovers

Pairing: Steve Rogers/Captain America x Villain!f!Reader

warnings: SMUT, p-in-v, mahandling, a smidge of fluff, praise + pet names (good girl), mentions of rough sex, biting/marking, a little bit of a confession if you squint, creampie

Not beta'd and obligatory on mobile!

summary: You and Steve have played this game before; you go about your hero/villain duties and then in the dark of the night you scratch the itch that only the other can soothe. However, this time it's a slightly different.

word count:

A/N: I have a WIP for a villain series underway but I just love a good hero x villain dynamic (they're also so sassy and angsty I just melt). No one speak to me as I have 10 + Kinktober drafts that I'm trying to edit haha - Love, Grem x

Prev | Next | Masterlist

“I knew you’d come.” You don’t even have to look up from your perch to know that Captain America, or as you so deftly nicknamed him Little Stevie, was standing in your doorway. It had only been a matter of time before he’d appear to arrest you and you had planned for it. You sipped at your red wine precariously, ensuring not to spill a drop over your expensive, white, silk and lace camisole.

You didn’t even look up from the book you were reading and you knew it irked him when you didn’t pay attention to him.

“the authorities are on their way.” He says stoically, statuesque in the golden light of your table lamp.

You click your tongue and huff, still not looking up. “And we both know I won’t spend a night in jail.”

“Maybe so. But you’ll be arrested.”

Now you look over at him. Raised eyebrow and a charismatic smirk that would make any other man melt but Steve stands in the doorway, hands on his belt and frowning slightly. It makes you want him all the more.

“really now?” You  tease, tilting your head mockingly. “and what are you doing here then? If the cops are on their way, as you so say, there’s no need for you. Unless...”

Your eyes narrow, smirk growing as you shift in your seat. Steve’s eyes flicker downward towards your cleavage ever so briefly you’re almost sure you’ve imagined it. He clears his throat.

“I didn’t want you to get away.”

“Again.” You smile.

Steve smiles wryly back. “Yeah, again.”

You chuckle softly. His voice carries a deeper meaning that you both know to be true; you both want to fuck each other again. The first time it happened was an accident; as accidental as two people on opposite sides having sex can be.

 You’d been celebrating at a hotel after a recent skirmish with the Avengers and Steve had tracked you, all by his lonesome, to try and be the hero and save the day. It had worked, in a way. He’d barged into your room. You’d thrown one of the stupidly tiny coffee mugs at him but he dodged it – lucky bastard – and grabbed your wrists before turning you around and holding them firmly against your back. You’d wriggled and kicked and – in fairness to Steve – he had warned you before he pinned you face down onto the bed. You both just didn’t expect to like it so much.

Perhaps the exhaustive, tense day you’d both had made you want to let off some steam; baseline instinct taking over when he’d flipped you over and kissed you roughly. Or when you chewed at his bottom lip and wrapped your legs around his waist.  Maybe it was that instinct that made him pick you up and hook his strong arms under your knees while he fucked into you and maybe it was that instinct that had made you come so hard over his cock you saw stars.

Regardless of whatever it was, it became a repeating occurrence.

Oh, the Avengers were coming to stop your goons? You’d make plans to be there at the same time as your favourite Captain. To smile and wink as you got off scot free and to irritate Steve knowing full well you’d both meet at a hotel somewhere incognito later in the night to fuck your brains out; rougher if you’d teased him in front of the team.

However, coming to your house was... new. And you can’t not comment on it.

“This is your first time at my home,” you say, setting down your wine and closing over your book. “You never come here.”

Steve’s jaw tenses and you smirk.

“Ah. So, what, you missed me, little Stevie?” you coo at him, hoping to get a rise. “Want one last ride before I go on my merry little way?”

Steve grumbles low in his throat; half way between a growl of frustration and a sigh of resignation. So he had missed you. You get to your feet, discarding your book without a care. Lace frills tickled at your thighs as you stood before Steve, leaning back against the sofa and folding your arms under your chest, making Steve’s eyes drift again. You grin.

“Well?” you press, secretly hoping that this time he’ll admit that he likes you, not just fucking you senseless. Because, let’s face it, he’s Steve Rogers; he could have anyone he wanted and he wants you. The one person he should stay away from. He’d put others down like dogs when he had to, but you? Never you. It almost made you want to be good. In more ways than one – just for him.

Steve doesn’t respond verbally. He sighs, shoulders sagging and strides towards you. He picks you up effortlessly, throwing you over his shoulder , something you’ve come to expect so you don’t squeak or yelp only giggle; giggling like you’ve won the best damn prize at the fairground and Steve loves to hate it. You appreciatively oggle his ass in his tac gear as he moves into the hallway; another sight you’ve come to love. He stops.

“Bedroom.” He states lowly. “Where?”

“Woah there Captain Caveman,” you tease, opening your mouth to continue when Steve’s rough hand grips at your asscheek hard, making you gasp.

“where?” He asks again.

“up the stairs, first door on the left.” You say breathily, squeaking and clawing your nails into Steve’s back as he ascends the stairs at a ridiculously inhuman pace. Your bedroom door swings open as Steve kicks it and your half sure a hinge has snapped. Steve hurls you onto your bed and you bounce roughly across your satin sheets. Steve’s on top of you before you even have a chance to draw in a breath, kissing you hungrily and trailing down your throat.

“How long until the cops arrive?” You manage to get out, eyes fluttering closed as Steve’s lips tease at the swell of your right breast, just above the lace frill.

“Long enough,” is his gruff reply. Steve makes little work tugging down the front of the camisole. He knows better than to rip your expensive lingerie but only after you sent the bill for the Venetian panties he ruined to the Avengers compound. That was a long week for Steve. He still hadn't lived it down - thankfully, you'd left the note anonymous.

When your breasts are exposed Steve's mouth is all over them; kissing and sucking at the flesh in the way you like it. Your hands rake his soft hair from his face to better watch as he rolls his tongue around a nipple. Your back arches when you moan and Steve nips at your skin, chasing kisses all the way back up to your lips. Your lips greet his passionately, desperately. Both of your moans muffled by the other.

"Stevie," You pant, cupping his cheeks in your palms as you both look at eachother's eyes and lips. "I need you."

Steve sits back, undoing his belt hurriedly as you shuffle out of your panties. Something about the race against the clock, had you both running hotter than usual. Once Steve's belt is undone, he doesn't bother removing it, immediately getting to work on the zipper and buttons. Your hand is already reaching through the opening he's created, palming his heated length through his boxers. Steve's head tilts down with a soft curse, watching your hand gently free his cock and pump it a few times before lining him up with your needy core.

Steve shuffles closer, letting you guide him into you, palms splaying either side of your head onto the silky satin pillowcases. Your legs hook over his hips, pulling him closer, further into you. You take in a shaky inhale as he fills you to the brim and you watch Steve’s eyes flutter with a smug smirk.

"We're against the clock, Stevie." You murmur to him, wrapping an arm around his neck as his elbows buckle. "As much as I would love to take my time here - I think you should fuck me senseless."

"Fuck," Steve huffs into your ear. His cock twitches inside of you before his hips start to move. It's erratic at first; desperate and wild thrusts that have you tearing at his tactical gear, your legs squeezing him closer and closer. Steve raises his head to kiss you, slowly finding a rythymn with his thrusts that make you keen into his mouth.

The tip of his cock smacks that sweet spot that makes your cunt clench around him. You heave breaths as you break from another passionate kiss, holding onto Steve's shoulders tightly as you cum. You see Steve looking down at you, watching your half-lidded expression closely.

It’s if something changes, his usually stoic and rough demeanour is replaced with something softer.

“You are so beautiful,” He huffs between thrusts, cheeks growing red. He seems almost bashful, not like the cold, hard Captain you’d been fucking for almost two months. Your expression is equally soft and flustered both from your orgasm and the compliment.

Steve had never complimented you. He'd be dominant, rough and you'd be coy and teasing. Sleepovers weren't common either. You had assumed that this was stress relief for Steve. You had hoped it was just stress relief for you.

Steve doesn't say anything unless he means it and you know he means it. You can see he means it. And it makes your pussy clench around his cock harder as you blush beneath him. He continues to pound into you, guiding you from one orgasm to the next quickly.

"So are you, Stevie." You manage to tell him sincerely, pecking at his lips. "My golden boy."

“Shit, why- why do you have to feel so good?” Steve curses, his head resting against yours, panting gently.

You smirk against his lips. “Are you really complaining about how good my pussy feels, Stevie?”

Steve growls in response and you giggle. Teasing him would never not be fun for you. But when Steve’s teeth graze the nape of your neck you melt, muffling a whimper into the hard chest of his suit. Steve hears it and it drives him wild, his thrusts becoming hard again, driving into you as he gently bites at your flesh.

You cum over his cock as he marks you, the thought of being marked by your so-called enemy; especially with one with so much valour and a representative of good like Captain America, made you insatiable.

"Oh, you like that?" Steve murmurs, kissing the shell of your ear. "You like being marked by me?"

The sounds of your moans intermingle with his thrusts and your eyes roll. You're on cloud nine, maybe even ten, you would let him get away with anything. Then, a thought occurs to you. Steve continues with praises, scolding you for being a brat but you realise something that would push him over the edge.

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to look deeply into his eyes as he fucks you before murmuring,

“You want me to be a good girl for you, Stevie?”

Steve's eyes almost turn black and there's a stutter to his thrusting. You smirk up at him, but there's a look in your eyes that say there's a sliver of something more; like you're offering something else entirely.

"Yes." Steve pants. "Yes I want that."

There's a beat of silence and you're both watching eachother, trying to decipher what kind of moment you've just had.

"Maybe we can talk about it over dinner." You suggest, pressing your lips against his; this time more slowly, savouring the taste of him. Steve hums, covering his mouth with yours and exploring your mouth with his tongue. There's a definite shift in how his hips roll into yours languidly; no more scolding, no more marking.

No more Captain.

You're fucking Steve Rogers - and you're adoring every sweet kiss he peppers against your skin, the tenderness of his gaze and how softly he murmurs compliments to you. You adore it so much, you don't realise you're about to cum until it crashes over you, your pussy grasping his cock tightly when you call out his name. Your hands move to the back of his head, pulling him closer to your lips.

"I love how you look when you cum over my cock," He murmurs to you, his thrusts speeding up. You struggle to keep your legs tight over his hips, his ridiculous utility belt digging into your calf painfully, but his words make you whine into his neck.

"You should see how you look when I'm on top," You quip, nipping at his ear to making him growl. "Your cheeks go such a nice shade of pink."

As if on cue, Steve's face flushes and you chuckle. "Just like that," You whisper, kissing him again.

His thrusts don't become wild and erratic like they usually do before he cums. This time they're hard but precise, finding that sweet spot that makes your cunt squeeze him tight.

"Oh fuck - oh, Steve," you moan in warning as you feel yourself on the edge of cumming again.

Steve muffles you yet again with another kiss, hitching an arm under your thigh and drawing it back giving a deeper angle to your cunt. You cry out, the pleasure overwhelming. Steve feels it too, the new angle allowing him somehow deeper into your tight, wet hole makes him shudder and after a few deep thrusts and you cumming over his cock again, he's spent his load inside of you with a gasp of your name.

"Fuck, sweetheart," Steve groans, his cock twitching as he stills inside of you. Steve pants, giving himself all but thirty seconds to recover before tucking himself back into his suit, and checking his watch. He gives you a half apologetic - half cheeky smile.

"Two minutes to spare," He says, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he climbs from the bed. You lie sprawled, flushed, and fucked-out on the bed. You hadn't been expecting this tonight.

"Ooh, how lucky." You say sarcastically, rolling onto your side, watching him stand in front of you with his hands on his stupid belt again. Your one arm is supporting your head, the other lazily resting across your waist, and you don't need Steve to tell you that you look like a damn succubus waiting for him again.

"Shouldn't you be getting dressed?" He asks, raising an eyebrow. "Uh... cleaned up?"

You smirk back at him, pretending to look at something under your nails. "Oh I didn't tell you? The warrant was voided."

Steve looks aghast and you smile wider. You tap your temple before he can begin to form a response.

"My lawyers called about an hour before you got here. Something about evidence being lost or whatever." You wave a hand dismissively, knowing damn well that that you had paid handsomely for the pigs on your payroll; and for once they had done something right. The evidence of your involvement in a high profile was all but lost, but you knew Steve couldn't resist bringing you in or warning you about some big case. You thought it might have just been a good-bye blow out; not something that had you considering a change in career.

"Now, dinner first or shall we start round two?"

[short-honey-badger]

Peppermint Tea 26 - Lavender 7

Okay. Another update! This chapter has been in the works for a bit. Working on it on and off when I can between other parts.

Shanks gets his turn with our lovely devil fruit user. This is filthy, and I introduce some kinks I've never written for.

Warnings! SMUT! SMUT! Shanks is kinda rough. A little mean? Spit kink. Face fucking. Alcohol. Cum eating

Masterlist

Two days after he calls the cottage, Shanks arrives at your island. He relaxes the moment his chocolate eyes land on the white beaches and the familiar mountains to the west. Benn rolls his eyes at his Captain but can't find it in himself to be too upset with the other man. The first mate enjoyed your island, too. Its peacefulness was unparalleled.

A smile curls his lips when Shanks spots a ship in the shape of a coffin moored at the end of the white sands. He knew that Mihawk would be here. The other man had been the one to answer his call the other day, after all. It wasn’t often that the three of them had the chance to spend time together. Mihawk, while aloof and sarcastic about it all, still had his duties as a warlord.

He had explained to Shanks that the position kept him in the know-how but still allowed him the freedom he desired. The redhead had shrugged and nodded, assuring Mihawk that it was a smart choice, but he wasn’t about to let something like the World Government get in his way if it became a problem. Dracule had blushed and spluttered that He did what he wanted, regardless of what those pigs said, and then stormed off to find you and soothe his irritation with the Emperor.

Shanks smirks at the memory, coming back to himself in time to help his crew unload before Benn waves him off, a fond look on the older man’s face. The redhead doesn’t need to be told twice and quickly disappears up the well-worn footpath, shoulders slumping, and an invisible weight lifting when your cottage comes into sight. A delighted laugh breaks from him when he catches sight of what greets him.

You and Mihawk are elbow-deep in the front garden, dirt staining both of their hands. Hank jumps up the moment he spots the redhead, running over to greet his second favorite human with a happy woof. Shanks pets the shaggy dog, greeting him with a little bit of baby talk and telling Hank how good of a boy he is. When Hank is happy, he flops back to the ground with a long sigh, and the Emperor continues to the garden.

Shanks is careful where he steps, not wanting to have both of his treasures on his ass if he were to trample the garden. You stand and greet him, smile wide and radiant, and Shanks doesn't waste any time in pulling you in for a kiss. Your lips welcome him, and the Emperor sags, invisible weight leaving his shoulders as you kiss him back.

Mihawk is next, facial hair scratching against the other man's for but a second before the bird pulls away far too soon. Shanks pouts a bit and gets flicked in the forehead for his troubles.

“Welcome home, trouble,” Mihawk murmurs, and despite his uninterested tone, Shanks can see the pleased look in the hawk’s golden eyes.

“How was your trip?” You chime in and press yourself into his side, and Shanks’ heart could explode from how adorable you look.

“Not bad. Good weather, and the sea must be in a pleasant mood,” He comments and looks down at you. He takes in your appearance, brows notching up when he realizes that you aren't as cold, and you have less on than usual. Actually, “Is that my shirt?”

“Yup. It's very breathable,” you pop the p, but your admission just makes him grin, greed shining in his eyes as he gently tugs you away to get a better look. His shirt swallows you, the front dripping low and giving Shanks an excellent view of your perky tits. You look different, but in a good way as if a light was shining from within. He glances at Mihawk, curious if the other man had noticed the change, and relaxes when the warlord comes to his side, reaching out to tuck a lock of hair behind your ear.

“She's been practicing like we said to. How did you explain it to me, Angel?” Mihawk says, and you blush at having both of their attention on you.

You tell Shanks about practicing your devil fruit and how you began to feel better once you started to use it more often. You explain how your body evened out, as you liked to put it, and Shanks could hear the excitement lining your voice. It makes him happy to know that you had practiced your powers and seemed to be better than ever.

“That’s great, sweetheart,” Shanks grins down at you, reaching out to slide his hand along your neck, gently cradling your jaw. His grin grows when you nuzzle into him, and he strokes his thumb over the line of your jaw, “How about you finish up here, and then you can show me what you can do?”

You nod, joy erupting inside of you at the suggestion, “It won’t take too long, we are almost done,” you assure him, and Shanks nods then carefully steps out of the garden to mosey inside the cottage.

It doesn't take long for Mihawk to join him in the house. He goes straight to the kitchen, washing his hands of any dirt before he puts the kettle on. Shanks steps into the kitchen, coming up behind the older man, reaching out to curl his hand around Dracule's hip. He molds himself along the warlord’s back, tucking his face in the crook of his neck.

“She really okay?” Shanks murmurs, and busies himself with pressing kisses to the back of Mihawk's neck while he waits.

Mihawk slowly relaxes against the other man, still getting used to being able to do this with the other man after so many years apart. His hand finds the one his hip, and he gently squeezes his wrist in reassurance, “She is. She's gotten stronger and would be formidable with real training.”

Shanks hums, disliking the thought of you having to fight. Dracule tightens his grip around his wrist, and Shanks knows that the warlord agrees with him. Mihawk sighs softly, head tilting back to rest against Shanks as he continues, “Mhm. I'd rather not, but if she wants to learn, then I won't hinder her progress.”

“You? A teacher?” Shanks teases gently and pinches his waist with a smirk, “Couldn't imagine it.”

Mihawk scoffs at the redhead, eyes rolling skyward, “Considering Roronoa is well on his way to being second to only, Me. I think that already proves that I can be one.”

Shanks snickers at the miffed pride that laces his treasures’ voice. Mihawk was always so fun to rile up. He gently turns the other man, he reaches up, tucking his knuckle under that perfect beard, and kisses the other man, a gentle push and pull that had Mihawk sighing and sliding one hand into Shanks’ hair.

He has missed the warlord. How had he allowed so much time to pass without finding the other man, Shanks didn't know, but now that he had him? Shanks would never let him go again.

Dracule rests his brow against the Emperor’s, breath mingling with the other man's. He licks his lips and catches the taste of sweet sake. He searches the other's dark eyes, and Shanks catches sight of the devious, smug look that swims in Mihawk's own.

“What's that look for, Baby?” Shanks murmurs curiously, brow ticking up at the other man.

Mihawk leans in, kissing the redhead again, and Shanks can feel the smirk that lingers on his lips. The redhead feels like he is missing something here, especially when you appear in the kitchen, a mischievous grin playing on your face. He watches you wash your hands and then takes the kettle from the stove when it begins to whistle, eyes following you even as he continues the kiss with his warlord.

And then Dracule is pulling away, and leaving Shanks standing there like a knot on a log as his treasures dither about, moving past one another with a close familiarity that the redhead silently envies. He does get the chance to pout about it, not when you step in front of him and grab his lonely hand, “Come sit, Shanks. Mihawk brought your favorite while he was out.”

Shanks allows himself to be pulled to the table, and he sits, eyebrows shooting up when you follow him, sitting on his lap and leaning into his chest. Mihawk comes around and places a steaming cup of sweet chamomile beside the shallow bowl full of sake. You help yourself to your tea and then sit back again, head pillowed against The redhead’s pecs.

“Alright you two. What is this about?” Shanks rumbles, and he reaches for his sake, sipping most of it down in one go, “I'm being left out here.”

Dracule shares a look with his angel, and you look so excited that he dips his head, and you say, softer with a voice so full of affection that it makes Mihawk blush.

“Mihawk and I had sex.”

Shanks looks at Dracule and now realizes why the man had looked so smug earlier. In fact. He looked even more so now, those beautiful ringed eyes glowing with it. A slow smile begins to form, sharp white teeth gleaming in the light of your kitchen. His sake dish is sat down with a click that seems to echo in the room, and Shanks curls his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to grind his already hardening dick into the soft cheeks of your ass.

He presses his face against yours, lips finding your cheek, and Mihawk speaks up, making the grin on the Emperor’s lips grow, “It's only fair you have your turn, Red.”

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

“Suck my cock, treasure, and I'll give you exactly what you want,” Shanks orders, voice rough and dangerous. He grabs your chin with two fingers, pulling your mouth open, “I'll even help you out, Sweetheart. Stick out your tongue for me.”

Mihawk watches from where he sits in his armchair in the corner of the room. He sips his red wine, the alcohol staining his lips. His golden gaze never once leaves his two angels, and despite his cock hard and aching in his pants, he does not touch it.

You are hesitant to do as ordered, cheeks darkening, but you see the expectation lingering in his dark gaze. You do as ordered, jaw clicking as you stick your tongue out for him. You blush furiously when Shanks leans closer and opens his mouth, pink muscle lolling out and dribbling an obscene amount of saliva onto your tongue, “Don't swallow that.”

You breathe heavily through your nose, tears gathering at the corners of your eyes, and focus on not gagging.

“Take my dick outta my pants, Baby,” Shanks instructs quietly and licks his lips, enjoying the way that you are struggling with his orders. Your hands are shaking when they land on his pants, you feel your way up to the elastic and then pull them down, whining when his cock slips out and smacks you in the cheek.

“Shanks,” Mihawk warns quietly from his corner. He had given his word that he wouldn't step in, but that wouldn't stop him from speaking up if he deemed the redhead being too rough.

“She's fine, Hawkeye. She can do it,” Shanks dismisses easily when he glances down to see a new light of determination in your eyes, “Right, sweetheart?”

Shanks moves your head down in a nod before tipping your face towards his length. He groans when you grab the base, and then you are leading his cock past your lips, tongue sliding wonderfully alongside the bottom of his shaft. You take him down to about halfway before you start to choke. Shanks is thicker than Mihawk, making your jaw ache already.

“Relax your throat, Angel,” Mihawk speaks up from his spot and you flick your eyes over to see him uncrossing his legs, and it gives you a good view of the tent in the seat of his pants.

You work to do as he says, glassy eyes closing as you concentrate on your task. Shanks slips another inch down, and then another until the tip of his cock slips past the muscles at the back of your mouth and into your throat. A muffled whine leaves you at the painful stretch and the ache in your jaw gets worse, but your free hand grabs the fabric of his pants to keep him from pulling away.

“Fuck, Treasure,” Shanks snarls lowly, and his hand find the back of your head, And he tangles his long fingers in your hair, “Doing so good for us, listening to Mihawk so well.”

The praise feels good, and you feel yourself growing wet, slick clinging to your exposed folds. You swallow around Shanks, sucking in a sharp break when he humps forward, pressing your face to his pelvis. You work your tongue along the bottom, and Shanks pulses in your mouth when you hollow your cheeks and suck as best you can being so stuffed full.

Spit and precum leak and bubble past your lips, and soon your tears mingle with the mess when the Emperor grows impatient with your slow pace. You can do nothing but relax your jaw and breathe through your nose as Shanks fucks your face. He moans and groans above you, the sounds that leave him are lewd, and listening to him has your cunt clenching longingly around nothing.

Dracule watches, golden eyes heavy lidded, and swirling with lust and want. He wants to step in. Wants to stand behind Shanks and wrap his hand around the base of his cock, and help the redhead paint you with his seed. His hands ache, and he occupies himself by playing with the stem of his wine glass.

Your eyes flutter, jaw on fire, and time seems lost to you. Shanks uses you for his own gain, seeking his pleasure until that coil snaps low in his stomach. The sound he makes is more animalistic than human, and you aren't expecting him to pull out so suddenly and angle your face up. You gasp when you feel the first splash of hot cum on your cheek, and quickly close your eyes when more rushes toward you.

Shanks never looks away, dark eyes full of adoration for you. You look beautiful like this, all painted up and dripping with his cum. He milks himself, not wanting any of it to go to waste. He presses the head of his cock to your lips, and you automatically open your mouth for him, “Clean me up, Sweetheart.”

You flush as you do as ordered, cleaning his softening member until nothing but your spit remains. Shanks watches with a smirk, and then glances over at Mihawk, expression turning greedy once more, and he crooks a finger at the other man, “Come clean her up, Baby I know you want to.”

Dracule licks his lips, tempted by the offer. He sets his glass aside and then stands to lope closer, taking in the delightful sight of you covered in the other man's semen. Mihawk leans down to help you stand, and then he takes your face in both hands, holding you still.

“Keep your eyes closed, Angel,” Mihawk murmurs, and then he is leaning in. The wet drag of his tongue makes you jump, and you hear the warlord hum at the taste of cooling cum. Dracule takes his time, hot tongue lapping at the cloudy fluid, until nothing remains. The act is lewd and intimate, and it's enough to have you whining and clutching at Dracule's loose shirt. When he is finished, Mihawk seals his lips to yours, and you moan at the taste of the wine and Shanks that still clings to his tongue.

Shanks moves behind you, hand sliding between your legs and fingertips finding your clit. He massages the sensitive nub, smirking when he hears a muffled moan leave you. He slides past your clit, calloused digits gliding through your folds and slicking them with your juices. He finds your entrance, and slides in one soaked finger to the knuckle.

“Can't believe that you let Mihawk fuck you without me here, Snowflake,” Shanks croons, tone full of disappointment, “Couldn't let me be here to watch him take you for the first time.

He slips another finger in beside the first, stroking and rubbing your velvety walls. Your hands tighten, nails digging into the thick muscles of Dracule's abdomen. Those skilled, sinful digits find your sweet spot, and Shanks proceeds to bully that spot, making you cry out and bow forward. The pleasure is immense, almost too much. His thumb catches your clit, and that heat winds and winds until it breaks and you gush all over his hand.

It's an embarrassing amount, but this isn't the first time that Shanks had shoved his fingers inside you this evening and ripped an orgasam from your body. Your body is overworked, cunt sore, and you are so glad that Mihawk is there to hold you up. His hands support you, and he pets your hair as he leans in to kiss the top of your head.

“Look at that. At least your body knows how to tell me how sorry it is for not letting me watch,” Shanks croons, tone still cruel, but the way he removes his fingers is nothing but gentle.

The Emperor gathers you close, and Mihawk steps away when he is sure that you are able to stand without help. Your legs still shake, tremors make your thighs gently jiggle, and it only gets worse when Shanks carefully leads you over to the bed and then bends you over the side of it. He shucks his pants off and kicks them to the side before draping himself over your sweat slick body.

“I'm going to fuck you now, okay, Sweetheart,” Shanks coos in your ear and nudges your legs apart, spreading you nicely for him. He takes his cock in hand, rubbing it though your puffy folds before he begins to push forward. You whine at the intrusion, walls stretching more than they are used to as Shanks presses in.

“Slower, Shanks,” Mihawk rumbles from his seat. His eyes track the way the other man's cock slips inside your heat.

For once, the redhead listens to the other man and slows to a crawl, Shanks doesn't want to hurt you, and he is thicker than the average man.

“She's like a vice, Mihawk,” Shanks grunts above you and sinks another two inches, and you feel like you're being split open for half a second before the pain bleeds into pleasure. The Emperor groans when he bottoms out, brow pressed to the middle of your back as he rocks back and forth. He is already so fucking close, having edged himself twice when you'd been on your knees, so Shanks knows that he isn't going to last long, but he will feel you come on his cock.

A shout tears out of your throat when your Emperor suddenly ruts forward, and pleasure zings up your spine at his brutal pace. His hand finds your hair, tangling in the stands and forcing your face down into the mattress.

“Gonna fill you up, baby,” Shanks snarls against your back, and his pace falters, going erratic. The tip of his cock drags against your sweet spot, and it sends you over once again, dragging Shanks with you.

Shanks swears as he comes, sinking his teeth into the meat of your shoulder blade, hips stuttering as he empties his load. He stays there for a long time, breathing in the scent of sweat and sex before he rises and carefully pulls out. You hiss at the feeling, feeling sticky and fucked out. You don't have the energy to say much of anything as Shanks lifts you the rest of the way onto the bed.

“You okay, baby?” Shanks murmurs, and you muster up enough willpower to nod before your turn to snuggle into the closest pillow. He smiles and gently strokes your hair, pushing it away from your face and admiring your tired beauty.

Mihawk stands, stepping behind Shanks and grabbing the edge of his loose gray shirt and pulling it up and off the other man. He pushes his redhead to the bed and then swiftly undresses himself. Now that Shanks had gotten his fill, Dracule was feeling just a little left out, and he intended to rectify that right now.

You open your eyes enough to see Mihawk pressing Shanks down, long fingers wrapped around the other man's tan throat. Interested, you roll to your side, grabbing the sheets and pulling them around you, a soft smile playing on your lips as you enjoy the show that your boys put on for you. You are noticed eventually and are dragged between them, but no one would ever find you complaining.

@writingmysanity @djbumblebee @goth-mami-writer @myradiaz @fluffybunnyu @bookandstar @foggyturtleknightangel @browneyedhufflepuff @anastasiyax @jaguarthecat