#submissions close Sunday night!

[exqorcism]

𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐑𝐂𝐇 ━ father charlie mayhew

★ warnings: nsfw content ahead!! making out, blasphemy, slutty!reader, they're both horny as fuck (sorry not sorry...), handjob, oral (m!receiving), face fucking, use of "daddy" like once or twice, use of "father" during sex, unprotected p in v, slight size kink?? lmk if i missed something

☆ note: my first attempt at smut and... not sure how i feel? other than that, it's my first fanfic on tumblr!!! feedback is deeply appreciated, enjoy :)

!! english is not my first language !! ౨ৎ

She knew he craved for her the way she craved for him.

The way her eyes followed him as he spoke, the way a little smile tugged at the corner of her lips every time their eyes met. The way he looked at her with a lust so deep that he couldn't comprehend it. The way he got nervous every time she walked through that big, heavy door in her ridiculously short skirts, making him unable to focus.

She was there every day, watching him, waiting for the perfect time to get to his head. But he never let her. He always left the platform before she could even take a step forward.

Yet he couldn't stop thinking about her. In the night, when he was all alone, he wrapped a hand around his cock and pumped, her pretty face in his mind, as he came hard each time.

Let's say, he was getting pretty good at avoiding her.

It was until, after the Sunday mass, she came up to him and said: “I would like to confess” confidently, even though hesitation could be heard in her soft voice. Everyone else left the church, and it was only them now. The thought made her heart skip a beat.

Father Charlie smiled at her, trying not to look at her exposed legs. She was teasing him, with her ridicolously short skirts and cut-low tops. Her pretty, almond-shaped eyes scanned over his face, and he felt his pants getting tighter every passing second.

“Of course. Come to my office at 8”, he cleared his throat, eyes leaving her small form only to wander around the walls of the church. Suddenly he felt nervous by her presence and the effect she had on him. She bit her pretty glossed lip and he swore he could come just at the sight of her. This little, slutty sinner. He thought about bending her over the bench and fucking the confidence out of her.

“Thank you, Father”, she replied and nodded her head, and then she left. Her voice caused him to take a deep breath; he didn’t realise he was holding it in. Her smell surrounding him, and he inhaled deeply: the smell of vanilla, tobacco and a little bit of her making his head spin.

“Lust is a sin”, he mumbled, closing his eyes, but then he saw her; on her knees, all submissive, taking his cock deep in her mouth. Her face when he made her cum, the way her pretty tits bounced if he let her take control and ride on him. Father Charlie opened his eyes immidiately, and his eyes brimmed with tears. “God, forgive me”.

Y/N knocked on his office door exactly at 8 p.m. She was wearing a short, black skirt, long-sleeved top that barely covered her boobs, a leather jacket and platform boots. She bit her lip nervously when she heard his voice from inside: a raspy “Come in”, that made her heart skip a bit, and she twisted the doorknob.

“Good evening, Y/N”. The way he looked at her made her want to clench her thighs together. His eyes scanned over her legs, and then her boobs, and finally, they settled on her pretty face. She smiled at him, confidently, and replied: “Good evening, Father”.

She sat down in the chair across of him and crossed her legs.

“You know, I thought this should be done in a confessional” She noticed after a while of silence, and he leaned down on the desk, playing with his ring. The sight made her want to clench her thighs together, but she stopped herself from doing so. She knew he would immidiately notice.

“It should be, yes”, he confessed, and then took a deep breath. “But you’re not here to confess, aren’t you, angel?”

The nickname made her eyes widen, but she nodded her head and replied: “Correct, Father. I just wanted it to be us two.”

Her boldness should disgust him, but it only made her more attractive in his eyes. She has to be the devil, he thought, and, once again, felt his pants getting tighter. Her eyes followed his every move, observing his reaction.

"Maybe you should confess, though." he said, keeping his attentive eyes on her. Y/N ran a hand through her black hair, her rings and bracelets glistening in the dim sunlight peeking through the window. "Tell me, angel, what's going on in that little head of yours?"

"I have sinned, Father." she confessed immediately, her lips curled into a little smile. She should feel ashamed. Disgusted by herself. Yet all she felt was excitement. She was obsessed with him, and now it was her chance to get him. Y/N wet her lips, her mind going blank at the sight of him, leaning against his desk, sitting here nonchalantly, his brown eyes following the movement of her tongue against her lip.

"I have been... pleasuring myself... and thinking about someone I shouldn't be thinking about. Not like that." Y/N's cheeks burned, but she continued, she needed to get this off her chest. She didn't dare looking at him, suddenly feeling ashamed. "I've been hooking up with some guys at parties, imagining it was him instead. Manhandling me. Claiming me. Marking me."

For the first time in a while, Father Charlie was in a loss of words. He shifted in his seat, leaning against the back of the chair, studying her pretty face. She looked so angelic, her tiny form making it hard for him to control himself. Of course she has been thinking about him. He felt excitement run through his veins at the images popping up in his head. Y/N, just in her pretty black lacy panties, her fingers inside of her puffy, leaking pussy, face twisted with pleasure. He swore he could almost hear her pretty moans as she came, "please, Father, I'm close" leaving her pouty pink lips.

Y/N thought she heard a little whisper coming out of his mouth, but she couldn't quite tell what he was saying. His eyes pierced into hers, as he got up from his seat and ringed around the desk. His steps were careful, predatory, as she kept his stare without flinching. Y/N pressed her back against the chair, her shirt lifting up just slightly, but he noticed. His face followed her chest, and his eyes' light up.

"Tell me more. Tell me everything you think about when you lay in your bed at night, pleasuring yourself at the thought of me."

She dared to look up at him, and she was taken aback by the sudden closeness. He was towering over her, his lip between his teeth, his left hand finding place on the arm of the chair she was sitting in.

She shuddered when Charlie's hot breath tickled her ear, but she didn't back off. His mouth was suddenly on her collarbone, licking her skin, humming to himself at the taste and smell of her. Y/N moaned quietly, and she tilted her head back, closing her eyes at the sudden pleasure.

His right hand found itself tangled in her long hair, and he pulled, making the small girl under him whine again. His other hand running over her pretty breasts, up to her collarbone, stopping on her neck. He squeezed the sides of it, and she closed her eyes, whimpering oh so prettily. His touch cautious, teasingly slow, as he breathed heavily, in awe at the sight in front of him. She was a mess and he barely touched her. Charlie chuckled, the low sound vibrating against the thick air surrounding them, and both of his hands left her body as he backed off, leaving her cold and desperate.

"You're such a little slut, you know that, angel? Teasing me with these short skirts of yours, staring at me during the masses, distracting me. You thought I wouldn't notice?" He tutted, leaning against the closest wall, his strong arms crossing on his chest. Her eyes followed him, and she got up, desperation visible in her every move. The degrading nickname echoed in her mind, the wetness between her legs getting unbearable.

"I wanted you to notice, Charlie", she used his first name, causing his whole body to shiver, as she took big step towards him, pinning him to the wall. She touched his muscular shoulders, her delicate fingers moving down his chest. "You can't imagine how long I've wanted this. I want to make you feel good, Father. Please, let me", she whispered, looking at him through her lashes, her lips dangerously close to his own. Charlie's eyes followed her mouth as she spoke, his dark irises sparkling with desire, as he felt completely dominated by the tiny girl in front of him. A strange feeling sparkled in his chest, but he didn't have time to think about it, as Y/N run her hand over the bulge in his pants.

The sudden intrusion on his pulsing member caused Charlie to moan, his head falling against the wall with a loud thud. Y/N's hand now stroking him through his dress pants, her breathing growing heavier by each passing second as she observed his reactions. Her mouth twitched into a satisfied smile, her thumb just barely running over his leaking tip, and he fucking whimpered.

She backed off just as he did minutes ago, still smiling from ear to ear, as his eyes met hers again. The next thing she felt was his lips on hers, as he devoured her, his hot tongue in her mouth almost immediately. The kiss was rough, both of them fighting for dominance, as she tugged at his hair, his greedy hands on her ass, pulling at the flesh, feeling of her soft skin almost too much for him. Charlie lifted one of Y/N's legs, holding it up on his hip, as he felt her much smaller body melting into his own. The moment their crotches met, and she grinded, a synchronised moan vibrating against the thick air surrounding them. Y/N pulled back from the kiss, catching her breath, but never pulling away from him completely.

His forehead pressed against hers, as he closed his eyes, breathing heavily. Her mouth found his again, but this time, it was softer, the feelings she had for him finally taking over her, as she kissed him as if her life depended on it. They moved slowly, without a single worry in the world, her hands on his chest, as his own found place on her lower back.

"Let me take you to my room", Father Charlie mumbled under his breath, eyes full of something she couldn't quite name.

Y/N nodded, and the next thing she knew was Charlie dragging her through the long corridor, his steps hurried. He shut the door to his room behind them loudly, and he kissed her again, his hands tugging at her black top, desperate to take the excess clothing off her body.

Charlie pushed her on the bed, and took a second to adore her bare tits. Her nipples already erect, reacting to the cold air in the room, and he couldn't stop himself from getting on top of her, leaving bruises all over her neck.

"No bra? You really planned all of this, didn't you? You are just a desperate little slut, begging to be fucked, aren't you, Y\N?" he whispered in her ear, leaving a big, wet kiss under it, and she moaned. She arched her back as his mouth closed around one of her nipples. Charlie swirled his tongue around the hard nub, and a hum left his mouth at the taste of her. He looked at her through his thick eyelashes, his innocent stare making Y/N grind on him again and again.

He moved to her other nipple, and she tugged at his dress shirt, silently begging him to take it off. He obliged, using one hand to undo the buttons, while his lips sucked on her pretty boob, never stopping his movements.

When his shirt fell to the floor, Y/N flipped Charlie over and sat down on his torso. He hissed when his back met the soft sheets, and for a second, his face grimaced in pain. She furrowed her brows, both of her hands on his hard chest, her hair on her face.

"What's wrong?" she immediately asked, her tits bouncing in front of his face as she moved downward to have a better look at him.

"Nothing you have to worry about, pretty girl". His soft hands touched her face, and she smiled at the compliment, taking a mental note to ask about that later.

"Let me take care of you", she said again, caressing his chest with her little hands, and she let their lips meet again.

Charlie melted into her touch, forgetting about the pain, his hand in her hair, as she kissed him slowly and passionately. Soon after the kiss turned messy, a dirty exchange of saliva, teeth crashing, tongues meeting in a nasty dance, as he lifted her skirt and started grinding his hard cock against her pretty, panties covered cunt.

She whimpered on top of him, back arching, but his lips never left hers. Her hands tugged at his hair, their lips separating. He could feel the wetness of her pussy against his hard on as she grinded against him, moving her hips in such way that had him breathless, his own member leaking with pre-cum.

She stopped her movements and immediately started to undo the button of his dress pants, and he moaned when she accidentally pressed her palm at his cock.

"Let me take care of you, Father", the blasphemous words leaving her mouth again, and all he could do was nod. His eyes pleading, and if it wasn't for the heat of the moment, he would be embarrassed of his own submission.

Y/N truly was the devil himself, he thought, as she took off his pants and boxers and laid down between his legs.

She licked her lips at the sight of him: she could already feel how big he was while grinding him, but seeing him, oh Lord, he was so big. He was definitely much above average. His slightly curved cock, tip leaking with precum, and the whole length contracted when she moved her lips closer.

"You have such a pretty cock, Charlie", she admitted wholeheartedly, her mouth watering, as he just stared at her, the praise making him even harder. She then took his cock in her hand and began slowly stroking his length, her thumb brushing against his angry red tip. Charlie's back arched as she finally touched him, his eyes closing at the contact.

"Oh... Oh, God", he whines, his mouth dropping open as she finally closed her mouth around him, struggling to take him in fully. She began bobbing her head on his tip slowly, and she hummed at the salty taste of his pre cum. "You're so big, Father", she moaned and then kitten licked at the underside of his cock, her tongue barely grazing over his tight balls.

All he could do was groan lowly, not a single thought in his head, as he thrusted his hips toward her face.

She began bobbing her head on him, his cock disappearing deeper and deeper into her mouth with each bob of her head. Charlie's hands found place in her silky, black hair, as he moved his hips, all of his self control leaving his body.

"Yes, angel. You're doing such a good job for me", she whined around his cock at the praise, her nails digging into his muscular thighs, as he thrusted into her mouth over and over again. "You have no idea how long I've thought about this, how many times I pumped my cock at the thought of you", his head fell back against the pillow as he murmured nonsense, his thrusts against her face getting more aggressive.

Y/N choked and gagged on his cock, only spurring him on more, and tears were streaming down her face, her makeup ruined, and her thighs clenched together at the sound of his pretty moans.

Charlie's cock twitched in her mouth, and she looked up at him, his own eyes already on her. His mouth was slightly opened, sweat covering his hard chest and forehead, the sight of his messy, soft hair making her moan around him.

"Cum down my throat, Father", she took her mouth of him only to whisper those words to him, her hand still pumping his twitching length, and in the moment he swore he could see stars, as his orgasm was getting closer and closer.

Then, as she put all of him in her mouth, and he was a lost man. His back arched as he pulled at her hair, her nose brushing against his soft, curly pubic hair as she deepthroated him through his orgasm.

Thick ropes of cum covered the back of her throat, and she gagged, slowly working her mouth over him until he collapsed on the bed, his chest heaving with deep breaths, whimpers leaving his pretty mouth. She swallowed all of his cum, the taste of him on her tongue making her shiver. His eyes never left his face, and he nodded in approval when she stuck her tongue out to show that she swallowed all of his cum. How could she not? In that moment she knew that she absolutely adored every part of him.

Charlie's still hard cock hit his stomach loudly as she got up from between his legs, and straddled him once again.

"You taste so good, Charlie", Y/N whispered, leaving kisses all over his neck and collarbones. His hands found her hips, as she pulled her panties to the side and grinded down on him. They both moaned at the contact, her wetness making it easy for her to grind down on his spit-covered length.

"God made you just for me", he hissed as she grounded down on him, his eyes full of adoration and awe, and she smiled, her brows furrowing because of the pressure on her puffy clit. "Are you an angel or the devil? Hmm?" his voice soft like butter when he flipped her over and surrounded her with his big arms, his tip just barely grazing over her entrance.

"I can be whatever you want me to be, Father", she replied breathlessly but wholeheartedly, chasing his cock with her leaking pussy, making a mess on his white sheets. Charlie smiled at her, and the next second she felt his fat tip finally stretching her out.

They both moaned in unison, and she clawed at his scarred back, and he groaned in pain and pure bliss.

"'S too big", she mumbled, her hair creating a halo around her head, and Charlie never stopped thrusting his length into her, his big hands holding her hips in place.

"I know you can take it, come on. You begged for it, so take it like the little good girl you are, can you, Y/N?" he taunted, his voice dangerously low as he felt her clench around him. She nodded and moaned as she felt him oh so deep. The pain and pleasure mixed, her vision blurred with tears of pure bliss as she whimpered.

"God, fuck me. Please, please, take me however you want, Father", she begged as her eyes rolled back, his own moan echoed through the thin walls. And that's when he buried himself in her to the hilt.

YN's back arched, tears blurring her vision, as he whimpered, his hand leaving her hip to find its place on her exposed neck.

He pressed on her neck, hard, cutting her airflow, fucking harder into her tight pussy, and she cried, and in that moment he thought that she was the most beautiful woman he's ever seen in his life.

"Daddy...."

He heard her whimper, her hands clawing at the ruined sheets, as she looked up at him, completely ruined just for him to see. He groaned at the vulgar nickname leaving her mouth, his thrusts getting deeper, stronger, as she screamed in pleasure.

"You're a nasty little girl, aren't you, Angel?" he asked and chuckled when he saw her attempting to respond. "See that?"

Charlie took his hand off her neck and she took a deep breath, his hand finding place in her hair next. He yanked Y/N's head up and made her look down, onto the place where they were connecting over and over again.

The visible bulge in her stomach made her eyes roll back into her head, the sight so vulgar that she felt herself getting nearer and nearer to her orgasm.

"I'm gonna breed you so deep, Angel. You won't ever be able to look at another man again. You're mine now. I'm gonna pump you nice and full of my cum and you're gonna take it like a good girl, aren't you?" he mumbled, his own end near, and she nodded her head, his hips flat against the back of her thighs.

"Please, I need it, Charlie. Make me cum", her voice barely a whisper, mascara smudged all over her cheeks, and Charlie kissed her with all the strength he had left, her hands around his neck as he held her hips in his hands.

His thrusts strong and sloppy as his whole body started to shake, her walls squeezing him tightly as she came with a loud moan of his name, and he followed immediately after.

He kept on thrusting into her, fucking her through his orgasm, their lips never separating as they came down from their highs together.

An hour later she was tangled in his sheets, his arm around her, thumb tracing little circles on her arm while they cuddled. YN's head on his chest, she was sleeping peacefully, but his mind was full of doubt and guilt. He knew he would have to punish himself for their sins. But she was worth it. He felt his chest tighten, and he placed a delicate kiss on her forehead.

When he finally fell asleep, he dreamed of her sweet smile, and never before in his life has he slept so peacefully.

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

D x C

Pairing: Bodyguard Clint Flood x Dieter Bravo x Female Reader Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Summary: Clint walks in on you and Dieter in a particular situation and decides to join in. Warnings: ALL PORN NO PLOT. SMUT, MMF threesome, boot riding, man on man action, handjob, fingering, anal fingering, unprotected p in v, unprotected anal sex, two dudes eating one pussy, ass licking, dick sucking, spit as lube, panty sniffing, face sitting, facial, cum eating after anal, cream pie, light choking, ass slapping, a singular slap against reader’s cheek, being called a cum slut, weed, whiskey, not beta read, writer mainly wrote this while ⬆️ and horned up. Words: 6969 <-nice

A/N: My first submission for mine, @schnarfer, and @mothandpidgeon's Magic Number Challenge. This is absolutely not beta read and is very much just self indulgent smut. I saw Freaky Tales on Sunday and uhhhh, I finished this REAL quick. Guys, what an amazing movie. I'm so happy @forspringcleaning and I can shout BIG MAN at each other again.

Masterlist

—-

Dizzying white smoke twists around Dieter’s face, spiraling in the air as he takes a slow hit from his joint. “That’s a good girl, look at you, pretty mouth full of my cock,” he grits, large hand resting on the back of your head. You stare up at him under heavy eyelids, knees pressing into the cool marble tile floor of the fancy, rented mansion. You haven’t even made it farther than the small entry way, both of you too drunk, happy, and horny for each other to do the proper thing and make it into the bedroom.

Dieter's cock drags in and out of your mouth, his hips bucking as he gently fucks your mouth, fingers intertwining with your hair, clutching slightly to guide your mouth.

His other hand fumbles in his pocket, taking out the delicate lace of your thong—the pair he just peeled off of you in the back of the limo, when his fingers slipped beneath your dress, exploring between your thighs, while his bodyguard drove up front, feigning ignorance to your muffled moans against Dieter’s neck.

He brings your panties to his face, pressing it against his nose and inhaling the scent of you in, his eyes rolling back when he breathes in your essence. “Fuck,” he whispers, voice strained. "They're still so soaked."

Your fingers dig into the soft muscle of his thighs stabilizing yourself so you can slowly let the warm, heavy weight of him fill your mouth. He stretches your mouth, your throat relaxing to let him push himself deeper. He groans out a long "fuuuuuck" that makes your pussy clench as the pad of his thumb presses against the divot of your cheek as you hollow them, sucking and slurping, staring into his eyes as the joint hangs from his lips.

The straps of your dress slip down as you reach back, struggling to unzip the back of it as your mouth stays on Dieter’s cock.

A sudden woosh of chilled night air hits your heated skin when the heavy, wooden front door swings open. Your eyes widen in shock as the tall, broad-shouldered sillhouette of a man fills the doorframe.

Clint. Dieter’s ever-present shadow, his personal bodyguard, the opposite of your boyfriend. Intimidating, gruff, and serious, now stands frozen in the doorway. His face shifts from neutral professional to something darker and primal as he takes in the scene before him.

You, on your knees, Dieter’s cock in your mouth, your dress hiked up your back exposing your bare ass, while Dieter stands unabashedly naked. You immediately try to pull away, cheeks burning with embarrassment, but Dieter’s hand plants against your skull firmly.

“It’s okay baby, Clint wants to see you like this. Don’t you Clint?” he asks, looking over towards the menacing force of a man. Dieter doesn’t seem to mind, a lazy smile spreads across his face as he takes another hit from the joint.

Clint steps inside, out of the shadows, closing the door behind him. “Sir,” he says gruffly, now standing so close to you, you can feel his domineering presence, smell the scent of his leather jacket mixed with heady scent of Dieter’s smoke. He doesn’t move, he just stands there, his hands planted against his belt buckle, his dark eyes focused on you.

Your pulse quickens at both men’s attention. Dieter’s grip on your hair loosens slightly, allowing you to pull away, but there’s something in the way Clint’s watching you, that holds you in place.

"See how beautiful she looks?" Dieter asks, running his thumb across your bottom lip, slick with saliva. "I've never seen anyone take me so well."

Clint takes a single step forward, then another. The heavy thud of Clint’s boots matches the heavy thud of your heart against your chest. His shadow overtakes you, you forget how to breathe around Dieter’s cock as you feel Clint’s hand grab a strand of your hair and pet it.

“She’s perfect,” Clint says, his voice deeper than you’ve ever heard it.

Dieter chuckles, a puff of smoke escaping his lips. "You've been watching her for months, haven't you? I've seen how you look at her when you think I don't notice."

“Mm,” Clint lowly hums an affirmative noise.

“You like watching how she sucks my cock?”

Dieter gently taps against your head reminding you to move, you obey immediately, bobbing your head and swirling your tongue.

Clint’s rough fingers thread into the hair against your scalp, joining Dieter’s, as if he can’t deny himself.

“Go ahead baby, show Clint how good you are. Show him what the pretty mouth can do.”

Both of their hands guide you along Dieter’s length. Pushing you all the way down to the base of him dark with curls, saliva pooling in your mouth as you slightly gag, your wide eyes staring up at Dieter unblinking with tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as he watches you deep throat his cock. Clint’s grip is firmer than Dieter’s, less forgiving, as he pushes you forward.

The marble floor is hard against your knees, but you welcome the discomfort as your thighs clench together, slick with arousal for the two men. You’re writhing, as both men pull against your hair in tandem, making you suck and slobber all over Dieter’s cock. You accept their power, moaning around Dieter's cock, the vibration making him hiss through his teeth.

“I think you like watching her,” Dieter says with a arrogant smirk. “I think she likes you watching. Don’t you baby? You like having an audience?”

You manage a small nod against their hands, writhing on your knees, hands clamped around Dieter’s thighs, trying to balance yourself as you pray for a taste of friction against your cunt.

You can feel the tension in Clint’s body without even looking at him, much different than Dieter’s unworried stature.

“Looks like you’re suffering down there, aren’t you babygirl?” Clint grits, you can feel his labored breathing behind you.

You whimper along Dieter’s cock before he pulls himself out of yout mouth. “Answer him,” Dieter commands.

“I am,” you respond breathless.

“Good girl,” Dieter praises. “Clint, you think you can take care of my girl?”

“I think I can Mr. Bravo.”

"Please,” you plead.

You feel Clint's heavy boot sliding forward between your knees, pushing them apart. The toe of it nudging at your inner thighs.

“Spread wider for me,” he commands. The gravel of his voice causes a new gush of want to spill out of your pussy.

You obey instantly, your legs trembling as you let your knees slide against the floor, widening to let Clint position his boot directly beneath you.

Hard leather presses against your cunt, a gasp leaving your lips as Clint applies just enough pressure. You feel exposed, vulnerable, caught between the man you love and his powerful bodyguard.

Clint begins to rock his foot slightly, your wetness covering the leather. You moan, grinding your cunt down, relishing in the friction from the leather.

“That's it, babygirl," Dieter encourages, his hand guiding your mouth back to his cock. "Show Clint how good you can be for both of us."

You’re dizzy between eagerly taking Dieter back between your lips as the tip of Clint’s boot rubs against your swollen pussy.

Clint’s hand tightens in your hair, his breathing growing more ragged behind you. “Look at her, she's soaking my fuckin’ boot.”

“She’s a greedy girl,” Dieter chuckles, tapping your cheek affectionately as you hollow them around him. "Aren't you, baby?”

You nod eagerly around Dieter’s cock as you look up at him with veneration. Your movie star boyfriend, too cool and calm to care that another man’s boot against your pussy is making you squirm.

“Tell her what you want to do to her,” Dieter regards to Clint, low and commanding. “She likes it when you talk.”

Clint's hand slides from your hair down to your neck, his calloused palm wrapping around your throat from behind. Not squeezing, just holding you there, reminding you of his strength as his boot continues to press against your aching center.

"I want to watch her cum on my boot first. Then I want to taste her ‘n clean her little cunt off.”

Your entire body shudders at his filthy words. A moan vibrates around Dieter’s length as Clint’s grip on your throat tightens just enough to make your pulse beat harder.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Dieter asks, his thumb tracing your stretched lips. “Another man’s mouth all over your pretty pussy.”

You nod desperately, grinding harder against Clint's boot. Your thighs tremble, dress bunched around your waist as you rock shamelessly against the leather.

"Look at her," Clint grunts. "Fucking desperate for it."

Frantically nodding, your hips swirling down, working in earnest against Clint’s boot as your mouth worships Dieter’s cock. Clint’s hand around your throat sends currents through your body, making you feel owned and possessed by both men.

“She’s close,” Dieter groans. "I can tell by the way she's sucking me. Gets sloppy when she's about to cum."

Clint increases the pressure of his boot, angling it so the hard edge presses directly against your clit. "Cum for us," he orders. "Show us what a good girl you are."

Your body responds instantly to his command, crying out around Dieter’s cock as your orgasm given to you by both men crashes into you. Your pussy gushes out against Clint’s boot as he continues to rub it against you. Your eyes rolling back as your release washes over you in overwhelming waves.

"That's it," Clint grits, his grip on your throat tightening slightly as you ride out your orgasm. "Give it to me."

Dieter pulls out of your mouth, letting you gasp and cry out properly as your body convulses. "Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he admires, stroking your hair tenderly as you collapse forward, catching yourself on your hands.

Clint moves his boot from between your legs, before he kneels behind you, gripping your hips. "Sir?" he asks, looking to Dieter for permission.

"She's all yours," Dieter says as he lazily strokes his cock, still wet with your spit. "Show her what you've been thinking about all these months."

Clint wastes no time, flipping you onto your back against the cold marble floor. He looms over you, a fire in his eyes. His usuaully stoic face is transformed with hunger, jaw clenched tight as he stares down at your disheveled form.

"Been watching you parade around in those little dresses," he says, resting his large hands on your knees. "Listening to you moan through the walls when he fucks you."

You’re heaving for air as you watch him take you in, slowly spreading your knees apart exposing your glistening pussy. Your dress is bunched around your waist, straps hanging off your shoulders, your tits spilling from the top of your low neckline.

“Look how pretty my girl is,” Dieter muses, sitting cross legged on the floor next to you, his joint still burning between his fingers as he watches. “All swollen and ready for your tongue Clint.”

Clint doesn't respond with words. Instead, he lowers himself to his knees, his broad shoulders forcing your legs wider as his rough hands slide under your ass, lifting you slightly off the cold marble.

“Let me taste what’s yours, sir,” Clint growls, his possessive, hot breath searing against your pussy.

“Oh god,” you whimper as Clint lowers his face between your thighs. The first dash of his tongue makes you arch your back.

While Dieter's tongue is playful and teasing, Clint's is methodical and precise, flat and firm as he licks a long stripe from your entrance to your clit.

“Jesus,” you gasp, one hand grasping Clint’s slicked back hair while the other finds Dieter’s soft thigh beside you.

Dieter strokes your hair as he watches Clint devour you. “Let him hear how good he makes you feel. Say his fucking name for me.”

“Clint,” you moan.

Clint groans against your flesh, vibrating against your cunt. His mouth works against you with precision making your thighs quiver around his head.

“Give her more,” Dieter directs. Clint immediately obeys, sucking your clit between his lips, his large hands gripping your thighs, spreading you wider as his tongue delves deeper. He's relentless and focused, his dark eyes occasionally flicking up to watch your face contort in pleasure.

"Look at her," Dieter says lazily, taking another hit from his joint as he strokes your hair. "So fucking beautiful when she's getting her pussy eaten. In fact...” Dieter says, climbing across the floor and laying down next to Clint. “Move over, share my girl with me.” Dieter grins lazily, nudging his shoulder.

It’s almost comical watching two broad shouldered men try to fit in between your thighs, your muscles burning as both men stretch each leg open with a gripping hand.

A twitch of frustration passes through Clint’s usually stoic features before it turns into lust as two tongues work against each other lapping and sliding across your pussy.

“Oh my god,” you cry, clutching Clint’s hair with one hand as the other grips Dieter’s.

It’s obscene, the wetness between your legs being shared by them both as they devour you.

“I— I can’t—“ you stammer, struggling to breathe through it. Your body twitches, trying to pull away but Clint’s firm hands hold you in place.

"Yes, you can," Dieter says, his voice commanding even though he sounds just as wrecked as you. “And you fucking will.”

The two men create a rhythm against your swollen flesh that has you writhing between them, your body suspended in their grip.

Their tongues dance around each other, sometimes meeting in the middle against your flesh. Clint’s strong hand grips your thigh with bruising intensity while Dieter’s hand softly holds your thigh, trailing his hand teasingly along your inner thigh.

You’ve never made these noises before, crying, keening and wallowing both men’s names.

"Watch," Dieter commands, and you force your heavy eyelids open to see him slide two fingers inside you while Clint focuses on your clit. The visual alone—Dieter’s soft waves of chaos mixed with Clint’s perfectly swept back hair working together between your thighs—nearly makes you cum.

"I can feel her tightening," Dieter growls. “She’s close.”

Clint responds with a deep groan that reverberates through you. His dark eyes locking with yours as his tongue works faster.

"That's it," Dieter encourages, his fingers fucking you faster. "Give it to us, baby. Let us feel you”

The pressure inside you builds. You’re caught between the two men—Dieter’s fingers stretching you open, Clint’s steady tongue, two pairs of dark brown eyes watching you, the cool marble against your hot skin. It’s all too much.

“I’m—I’m…” you moan, unable to form coherent thoughts, let alone words, as your orgasm builds within you.

"Say our names," Dieter commands.

"Dieter," you gasp, your voice breaking. "Clint—oh god, Clint!"

The dam walls shatter. Your orgasm crashes through you with devastating force, your body arching off the floor as you’re pulled under by both men.

Dieter slides his fingers out of your quivering cunt with deliberate slowness, the wet sound echoes in the marble entryway. Your release coats his fingers, glistening in the dim light as he holds them up between himself and Clint.

"Look what she gave us," Dieter purrs as he presents his fingers to Clint. Your slick drips down toward his wrist.

Clint's usually impassive face transforms, his dark eyes fixating on Dieter's hand with an almost religious intensity. He leans forward slowly, his broad shoulders shifting between your spread legs.

"Go ahead," Dieter encourages, a lazy smile playing across his lips. "Taste what's ours."

Clint's large hand wraps around Dieter's wrist, steadying it as he leans in. His lips part, revealing the pink of his tongue before he takes Dieter's fingers into the heat of his mouth. Your breath catches at the sight—Dieter's fingers disappearing between Clint's full lips.

Clint's eyes lock with Dieter's as he sucks, hollowing his cheeks around Dieter’s fingers, just as he watched you do earlier.

Dieter groans as Clint’s tongue works between his fingers, cleaning every drop of you from his skin. You watch, enamored by the scene—big, strong and intimdating Clint sucking your boyfriend’s fingers before he releases them with a wet pop.

“She's delicious isn't she?” Dieter asks with a cocky smile.

“Better than I imagined,” he rumbles.

You’re still sprawled on the marble floor, dress in disarray, body shivering with aftershocks from your orgasm. They both watch you, your chest heaving, eyes wide, and mouth agape.

"Look at her," your boyfriend admires. "Fucking wrecked and we've barely started."

His bodyguard growls low in his throat as he rises, standing over you, his prescence large and controlling as he begins unbuckling his belt.

Dieter crawls across the floor, gathering you in his arms, holding you against his chest as he sits cross-legged on the marble with you perched atop his lap. He grabs the hem of your dress lifting it over your head.

“You want to suck him, babygirl?” Dieter asks against your ear, his hands roaming your naked body. “You want to feel Clint’s cock inside your pretty mouth?”

You moan out a long yes, as Dieter’s hands cup your tits.

Clint’s eyes don’t leave yours as his hands work at his zipper, lowering his fly.

“She’s eager Clint, look how she’s watching you.”

You’re squirming on Dieter’s lap, his cock pressing hard against your lower back as he licks a line across your neck.

You feel each heavy step in your body as Clint slowly prowls over, the top of his jeans opened, the metal of his belt clinking with each step.

He stops in front of you, staring down at you. “Open,” he commands.

You instantly obey, parting your lips as he frees himself from his boxer briefs.

Fuck, he’s just like Dieter, but a little thicker and longer, with a prominent vein running along the shaft. A bead of precum glistens just for you as your tongue darts out to taste him.

Clint hisses through his teeth as you tongue at his tip, his hand immediately coming up to tangle into your hair.

"Such a good girl," Clint praises.

“She is, isn’t she?” Dieter asks, his hand sliding up to cradle your jaw, tilting your face upward. “You like how my girl’s mouth feels?”

Clint hums an affirmative as you part your lips wider, letting him feed his cock into your mouth inch by inch. He’s heavier, more insistent than Dieter as your jaw stretches to accommodate him.

“Fuck,” Clint snarls. His stoic composure cracking as your warm mouth envelops him.

Dieter chuckles against your ear, his hands sliding down your body to grip your hips. "She's good at taking cock, isn't she? Should see how she takes it in her tight little pussy."

Clint’s hips jerk forward when he feels the vibration of you moaning at Dieter’s filthy words.

He glides his cock deeper into your mouth as Dieter’s fingers trail along your body, pinching and pulling at the stiff peaks of your nipples.

You’re pinned between them again—Clint’s cock heavy on your tongue, Dieter’s cock jutting into your back.

Clint’s head tilts back, a long, low groan slipping out as he begins to fuck slowly into your mouth. “Feels so fuckin’ good,” he growls, eyes half-closed in pleasure you’re providing him. “Better than I thought it would.”

Clint’s fingers splay across the back of your head, guiding you, controlling the movement as he thrusts. He handles you with the same commanding intensity you see him excude everyday.

Each time he eases his length from your mouth, you gasp a quick breath before he fills it again.

“You like that? My pretty girl likes getting used by us?” Dieter nips at the shell of your ear.

Clint's hips rock faster, his grip on your hair tightening as he fucks into your mouth.

Dieter's hand slides down to the apex of your thighs. “Spread for me, baby,” he whispers against your ear.

You stretch out as much as you can on top of his lap. Dieter hums his approval as his fingers trail between your folds.

"Mmm, sucking Clint's cock is getting you all worked up again, isn't it?" he muses, slowly circling your clit with the pads of his fingers.

You whimper a yes around Clint’s cock, he groans above you as he looks down, watching Dieter stick a finger into your entrance. "Fuck, look at her, taking it so well at both ends."

Dieter chuckles. “The more she gets, the more she wants,” punctuating each word as he slides in and out of your tight cunt.

Muffled moans spills from your lips, vibrating against Clint’s cock as your hips jerk in Dieter’s lap.

Clint snarls, fucking into your mouth more erratic, his breathing huffing in deep breaths. The wet, obscene sounds of him fucking your mouth echo off the tile as drool drips down your chin.

Dieter trails his other hand down, drawing deep, long circles against your clit as he fucks you open with three fingers. You’re insatiable, whimpering around Clint’s cock as you writhe all over Dieter’s lap. "Cum," he demands in your ear. "Now."

You instantly cum at Dieter’s rumbling command. Your cunt clenching around his thick fingers as you orgasm. You’re pulsing electricity as both men use your body.

Your screams should be echoing across the room, but all you can do is suck and slurp against Clint’s cock as Dieter’s fingers continue pumping your overworked pussy as you shudder and shake atop his lap.

Clint pulls out of your mouth, allowing you to gasp for air. A string of saliva connects your lips to his cock, and he uses his thumb to wipe it away before pushing his thumb past your lips.

"Suck," he instructs.

You’re gasping, overwhelmed with the sensation of filling your lungs with air. Clint's thumb traces along your swollen bottom lip as you try to catch your breath, your chest heaving. His dark eyes boring into yours.

"I said suck," he repeats.

Youre too dazed to immediately comply. Clint lightly slaps your cheek, catching your attention. Not enough to hurt, but with just enough of a sting to make you gasp. Your chin is grasped firmly, your face tilted to meet his eyes.

"When I tell you to do something, you do it. Understand?"

You give him a shaky a nod, your pulse quickening at the sharpness in his tone. Dieter lowly chuckles behind you, amused by Clint taking charge.

"Answer him properly, baby," Dieter instructs.

“Yes,” you breathe out. “I understand.”

You open your mouth, he slides his thumb back between your lips and you suck obediently, swirling your tongue around the pad of his thumb.

“That’s a good girl,” Clint rumbles. He withdraws it, rubbing the pad of his thumb around the tip of his cock.

"What do you say, Clint?" Dieter asks. "Want to try out her sweet little pussy for yourself?"

Clint swallows hard, his intense gaze roaming over your face. "Yes, sir. I'd like that very much."

"Good man," Dieter chuckles, helping you stand on shaky legs. Clint reaches out to hold your hips, steadying you as you slightly sway.

“Why don't you sit on that chair in the living room?” Dieter instructs tilting his head over the the leather chair in front of the large window overlooking the city.

“Baby, why don’t you come help me pour us some drinks." He leaves a sweet smack against your ass when you head towards the bar.

Clint sinks down into the leather chair, watching as you grab two tumblers for Dieter to fill with whiskey.

“You good baby?” Dieter asks lowly.

“Yes,” you shakily breathe out. “More than good.”

Dieter smiles and winks, handing you one of the glasses before taking a sip from his own. “You’re so fucking hot, go ahead, give Clint a drink.”

Clint sits up straighter as you approach, his eyes raking over your body, tongue darting out to wet his lips. He’s still perfectly clad in his zipped-up leather jacket and dark shirt, while his jeans hang open, his half hard cock lying in his lap.

You climb onto his lap, straddling his muscular thighs as his hands rest on your hips, thumbs rubbing soft, tiny circles against your hipbones.

You haven’t kissed another man in years, not ever since the night you met Dieter. Until now, when you lean in and press your lips to Clint's. His mouth moves against yours, tracing the seam of your lips before you part them, allowing him to devour you.

You unzip his leather jacket without breaking the kiss, dragging it down his arms before Clint shrugs out of it and throws it to the side. You unbutton his shirt, letting it fall down his arms.

His tongue dances against yours, as his cock hardens beneath you, leaving you feeling wanted and desired by the statue of a man. Your hips rolls, grinding down and earning a low groan from deep in his throat.

"Getting him nice and hard for you aren't you?" Dieter asks from behind. "Go ahead ‘n fuck him for me.”

Climbing off his lap, you help Clint quickly tug off his jeans and boxer briefs. His cock stand tall and thick for you. You turn around, backing up slowly to position yourself over his lap, reaching between your legs to grasp his cock. Clint hisses through his teeth, hips twitching up.

You keep your eyes locked on Dieter’s as you slowly sink down onto Clint. His thick length stretches you in a way unlike Dieter, your head falls back aginast Clint’s shoulder as he fills your cunt completely.

Dieter leans forward, elbows braced on his knees as he watches you take another man’s cock.

“Amazing,” Dieter whispers incredulously as you begin to move, rising up until just the tip of Clint’s inside you before sinking back down. Clint groans, his fingers digging into your hips as he pulls you back to him, his plush lips licking and kissing against your neck as he fucks up into you, thrusting into your cunt with more force than Dieter, his hands more calloused and steady. You're bouncing on his lap, head thrown back against his shoulder, a litany of moans spilling from your lips.

Dieter rises from the couch, prowling towards you with dark eyes. He kneels in front of you, hands skating up your thighs. "Look at you, taking his cock so well. Such a good girl for us."

He leans in and captures your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth, reminding you that you’re his even as Clint’s cock splits you open.

He pulls back, lips wet and shiny as he looks over your shoulder at Clint. "How does her pussy feel?" he asks.

"Like heaven, sir," he replies, gritting out each word with a hard thrust. "So fucking tight and wet."

Dieter laughs darkly, happy with the way Clint praises you. He tilts his head, moving his face closer to Clint’s. You watch, transfixed, your breath catching in your throat as Dieter closes the gap and press his lips to Clint’s.

It's filthy and hot, watching your boyfriend kiss his bodyguard whose cock is driving into you. Their tongues slide and tangle against each other, both men grunting while you moan watching them.

Dieter pulls away, his gaze turning back to you. “Like seeing me kiss another man while he fucks this perfect pussy?"

"Yes," you gasp, grinding yourself down harder onto Clint's cock. "God, yes."

Dieter reaches over, picking up Clint’s whiskey tumbler and takes a slow slip.

“Open,” Dieter commands to Clint. He obediently parts his lips as Dieter tilts the glass towards him. Clint doesn’t swallow immediately, instead he lets the liquid pool in his mouth.

“Let me taste,” Dieter lowly says.

Clint’s arm wraps around your waist, pulling you firmly against his chest as he tilts his head forward. He slowly opens his mouth, the whiskey flows from it in a small stream, cascading down your collarbone and breasts. Glistening trails are left across your heated skin as it trickles down your body across the plane of your stomach.

Dieter’s tongue follows the path of whiskey down your body before he lowers himself to the floor, his face hovering in front of your pussy. A shock of pleasure is lit through your body when you feel a sweet lick against your clit. His tongue trails down your pussy as Clint’s cock pumps in and out of you. Clint groans beneath you, his hips stuttering when Dieter’s tongue grazes against his shaft.

A path is licked down to Clint’s balls and up to your clit, following the trail back and forth. Dieter hums against you when he tastes both of you together.

It feels so filthy and intimate, just as you’d expect from Dieter fucking Bravo. His dark hair bobbing between your thighs, his pink tongue darting out to taste another man’s cock as it fucks you.

Clint makes a choked noise as Dieter laps at his shaft.

Dieter pulls back slightly, his face shining with your’s and Clint’s arousal.

"You like watching me lick his cock, baby?”

“Yes. Fuck, Dieter, it’s so hot.”

He smirks. "You know Clint, I bet she'd love to watch me suck your cock, hm? Take you deep in my throat while she rides your face."

Clint makes a strangled sound at the suggestion, his cock twitching inside you. "Jesus Christ.”

“Let’s move this to bedroom then,” Dieter suggests, rising and reaching his hand out to you. You take it, Clint’s hold on you loosening as you slowly lift yourself off his thick cock. A small grunt from him mixes with your soft whimper at the loss of each other. Dieter leads you by the hand toward the bedroom. Clint follows closely behind, his breathing heavy, his cock still soaked in your wet.

You’re thankful this huge mansion has a massive bedroom with a California king bed that can fit both men currently flanking you. You feel so small sandwiched between Dieter’s broad body and Clint’s even larger and intimidating form.

“On the bed," Dieter tells you with a gentle slap against your ass. You climb onto the mattress, kneeling at the foot of it waiting for more instruction. “You too,” Dieter instructs, lightly swatting at Clint’s ass. “Lie back.”

Clint’s body easily takes up half of the mattress as he lays down on the bed. He’s so broad and strong, his dark eyes watching you as his cock stands hard and soaked between his thighs.

“Good. Now, baby,” Dieter turns to you, “why don’t you climb on his face?”

You nod, crawling across the mattress, positioning yourself above Clint, your knees planting on the bed bracketing his face.

He grips your thighs, pulling you down until your swollen pussy hovers just above his mouth. His hot breath fans against your sensitive cunt, dripping with need and ready to feel Clint’s mouth on you again.

“Ride his face baby,” Dieter encourages.

You’re pulled down against Clint’s mouth, his deep groan vibrating against your cunt as he tongues at your swollen clit. A tight gasp and long moan leave your lips as he devours you—methodical, thorough and relentless. Your hands grasp against the firm muscles of Clint’s thighs to brace yourself, Clint’s hands plant against your ass, spreading you wide for him.

Dieter’s eyes darken with each step he takes as he watches you moan and writhe atop Clint’s face. He crawls between Clint’s spread legs, his hands sliding up Clint’s thighs until they meet yours.

“Watch me,” Dieter orders, staring in your eyes as he lowers his head.

You couldn’t look away even if you wanted to try. The sight of Dieter—your Dieter—wrapping his fingers around Clint’s thick cock almost makes you dizzy. Clint’s hips jerk up at the contact, a gasp puffing against your pussy.

Dieter holds Clint's cock in his fist, giving it a few lazy strokes before lowering his head. His eyes never leave yours as his pink tongue darts out to lick a slow, deliberate stripe from base to tip. Clint's entire body shudders beneath you, his groan vibrating against your cunt.

"Holy shit," you breathe, amazed by the sight before you.

Dieter smirks, his lips hovering just above Clint's glistening tip. "I told you to watch," he reminds you before taking just the head into his mouth.

Clint's fingers dig deeper into your ass, pulling you harder against his mouth anchoring himself to you.

Your hand reaches out to thread through Dieter's soft waves, tightening your hold to guide him further down Clint’s shaft.

Dieter's eyes light with mischief as you push him further onto Clint's cock. Clint's body tenses beneath you, his hips bucking upward as Dieter deep throats his cock.

It’s beautiful, your boyfriend's lips stretched around another man's cock as that same man devours your pussy.

Dieter pulls off Clint's cock with a wet pop, his lips shiny with saliva. His hand continues to stroke Clint's length as he locks eyes with you.

"Spread his legs wider," Dieter commands, his voice dropping an octave.

You push at Clint’s inner thighs, spreading him open for Dieter, who hums appreciatively, lowering his head to lick a long stripe from Clint's heavy balls up his shaft.

Clint groans against your pussy, his tongue circling your entrance before dipping lower, circling your asshole with light, experimental licks.

"He's licking my ass," you gasp, eyes wide as you look at Dieter.

Dieter's grin turns predatory. "Is he now? You like that, baby?"

You nod frantically, unable to form words as Clint's tongue presses more insistently against your tight ring, his hands spreading your cheeks wider.

“You know baby, I think Clint would like the same treatment,” Dieter says lowly as he moves lower between Clint’s spread thighs. Dieter’s hands push Clint’s thighs up and back, exposing him completely.

His tongue trails from Clint’s balls to the sensitive skin below. You watch, enamored by Dieter’s tongue circling Clint’s tight hole.

“Fuuuuuck,” Clint whispers against you.

Dieter pulls back with a devilish smile before he spits across Clint’s asshole. You moan when you watch Dieter press his thumb against Clint’s entrance, circling it slowly.

"Jesus Christ," Clint hisses against your ass, his tongue stilling.

Dieter’s thumb slowly pushes in Clint’s tight ring of muscle. Clint's entire body tenses before he forces himself to relax, his shoulders sinking deeper into the mattress beneath you.

You can feel Clint’s reaction through his entire body as Dieter's thumb sinks deeper and deeper—the way his stomach muscles clench, the slight arch of his back, the firmness of his grip against your skin, the desperate “fuck” that vibrates against your ass.

Clint grips your hips, moving you up and down against his mouth, licking long lines from your asshole to your clit and back.

"Look at him," Dieter purrs. "Big, tough bodyguard taking my thumb in his ass while he eats my girl's pussy. You like that, don't you, Clint?"

Clint groans against you, a shiver running across his body.

"I think he likes it," you gasp, grinding down harder on Clint's face.

Dieter laughs darkly, leaning down, taking Clint's cock back into his mouth while working his thumb deeper.

You’re all connected, Clint's mouth on your cunt, Dieter's mouth on Clint's cock, Dieter's thumb working Clint's ass, Dieter’s eyes on you.

A long moan leaves your lips when Clint sucks hard on your clit, your back arching as his hips rock upward into Dieter’s mouth.

"Oh fuck," you gasp, clenching your thighs around Clint's head as he continues to feast on your drenched pussy. "I'm… gonna…"

Dieter looks up at you through heavy-lidded eyes. "Cum for me baby. Cum all over Clint's face."

That's all it takes to send you over the edge. Your entire body trembles and convulses under the power of your orgasm, grinding down on Clint’s face as he eats you through it. Your arms go weak, and you slump forward against his body, breathing hard. Running your cheek along the soft nest of coarse curls above his cock. Dieter grips your chin, guiding you to turn your head, taking Clint’s cock out of his mouth, guiding it into your mouth. You’re still humming and moaning from your release, your mouth working over Clint’s shaft as he groans against your overworked clit.

“I think you got her nice and worked up for me Clint,” Dieter says. “It’s time for me to fill my girl’s pussy.”

Dieter grabs your limp, overwhelmed body, laying you down on the bed next to Clint, your back nestling against the soft sheets.

Clint’s dark brown eyes watch as Dieter lines up, his tip dipping between your folds and rubbing against your clit before thrusting into you, burying himself in your cunt. Your body jerks forward with the force of him, a loud scream bursting from your lungs. Clint groans, as he watches Dieter’s hips slap against yours, ruthlessly pounding into you, owning your pussy after Clint’s had his way with it.

Clint can’t take his eyes off of you, staring into your eyes, watching as your face contorts in pleasure as Dieter fucks you harder and deeper. Your back arches off the bed, hands grasping the sheets tightly as you take Dieter’s cock.

"Fuck yes," he grunts. "Get behind me Clint. Finger my asshole while I fuck her.”

Clint moves behind Dieter, his large hands running over Dieter's ass before spreading him wide. Dieter groans when Clint's finger circles his tight ring of muscle, teasing him.

Dieter growls, slamming into you harder, staring into your eyes as Clint pushes his slick thumb past the ring of muscle, pressing deep into Dieter's ass. “Holy shit,” Dieter gasps, a wide smile lighting his face before he leans forward and kisses you, his hips jerking against yours as Clint works him open.

Dieter’s head tips back, groaning loudly as he drives into you even harder, pushed to the edge by Clint’s finger stretching him open.

“Fuck my ass,” Dieter orders, pressing you farther down into the mattress under his weight.

“Yes sir,” Clint growls, spitting in his hand and slicking up his cock before he slowly notches himself against Dieter’s asshole.

Dieter’s hips stutter as he pauses, breathing hard as Clint stretches him open with his wide cock.

“Fuuuuuck,” Dieter hitches. “You’re so fucking big.”

You watch Dieter’s face, a blissed-out smile lifting his lips, his eyes fluttering shut before he opens them, staring down at you as Clint starts to fuck him in long, slow strokes.

You clutch on Dieter’s strong arms, gripping his golden skin tight as he moves with Clint, the slow drag of his cock pulling out of your cunt before thrusting back in steers you closer to another orgasm.

You’re tangled in each other, Clint’s large body laying over Dieter’s, Dieter’s lips biting and licking at yours, your moans and groans echoing off the walls of the expansive room.

Dieter’s head drops to the crook of your neck, his breath hot against your skin as Clint surges in and out of him.

“Gonna cum,” Dieter whines against you. “Gonna fuckin’ fill you up while he fucks me.”

The three of you move as one, your pussy clenching around Dieter’s cock, Dieter’s asshole taking Clint’s cock. “Cum for me baby,” you urge. “Give me your cum.”

Clint’s pace turns brutal, pounding into Dieter deeper and harder. Both men’s weight bears down on you—pinning and claiming you as the center of their desire.

“Fuck,” Dieter lifts his head, staring into your eyes as he begins to cum, a deep, guttural groan escaping his throat as he empties himself inside you. His handsome face contorts with pleasure, teeth gritting, eyes locked on yours as he shoots his big load inside you.

“That’s it,” Clint growls behind him, fucking into him as Dieter’s body tightens around him. “Give her every drop, sir.”

Dieter’s cock pulses inside you, filling you with his heated release that triggers your own orgasm, your walls clenching him hard, milking every last sweet drop of cum from his cock.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Clint groans, pulling out of Dieter. "I���m close.”

“Cum on my girl’s face,” Dieter orders, rolling off of you and pulling you into his arms.

Clint stalks forward, his knees dipping into the bed as he kneels in front of you, stroking his cock, his bottom lip captured between his teeth.

You reach a hand up, massaging his balls, firmly pressing against them, giving him the perfect amount of pressure.

“Gonna cum," he grunts through gritted teeth. "Fuck, I'm gonna..."

Dieter's hands slide up to cup your breasts, squeezing roughly. "Do it," he encourages. "Give her what she wants. Paint that pretty face."

With a strained groan his cock pulses in his hand as he strokes himself, aiming the tip at your waiting face.

"Open," he commands again. You obey, sticking out your tongue in offering.

Thick ropes of cum spurt from Clint's cock, striping across your cheeks, your chin, your outstretched tongue. You moan as he marks you, claiming you as his own.

"So gorgeous covered in another man's cum. My perfect little cum slut,” Dieter admires.

You whimper as Clint milks the last drops onto your waiting tongue before he looks down, admiring his work, your face glistening with his release.

"That's my good girl," Dieter praises, his fingers tracing through Clint's cum on your cheek before pushing it between your parted lips. You suck his fingers clean, moaning at the taste as both men watch you with hungry eyes.

Clint collapses onto the bed beside you, his chest heaving.

“Well done Mr. Flood,” Dieter chuckles, running his hand through Clint’s hair. “I think we’ll keep you.”

—-

Proof it's 6969. lol

Also, please know I referenced this GIF by @perotovar A LOT while writing this.

—-

Tagging some moots and people who were interested: @sawymredfox, @sp00kymulderr, @almostfoxglove, @evolnoomym, @ace-turned-confused

@bitchesuntitled, @beefrobeefcal, @magpiepills, @joelmillerisapunk, @arcanefox207

@quinnnfabrgay, @bergamote-catsandbooks, @milla-frenchy, @jokesonthem

[gyaruhana]

HEYHEYYYYYY!!! I know requests are closed, buuuut... my mind has been going crazy thinking about a yandere Min su. Ik he's a cutie patootie but, UGHHH. Am I the only one who sees him as having yan potential?? Idk, but I NEED him as a yan. 😭

Min-Su/Player 125 - Yandere!Min-Su Headcannons

Synopsis: minsu as a yandere..

A/N: i hear you and i see you. he could so be a yan ugh !!

Warnings: yandere content, smut content, kinda short..

➠ Min-Su is sort of like a stray puppy honestly..

➠ he stalks follows you around constantly but never gets too close

➠ he's more on the quiet side so he doesn't really think about going up to you and talking to you

➠ he instead opts for the much creepier move which involves watching you every single day and night

➠ you'll see him everywhere but he's careful enough to make it look like a coincidence so you'll never suspect anything more

➠ he might be a bit of a push over but do NOT mistake that for him being weak..

➠ he's not afraid to get his hands dirty if he knows he can get away with it

➠ he's very much driven by the fear of losing you to someone else and fear makes him do a lot of bad things

➠ If he's able to, he'll kill whoever poses a threat to his chances with you and then burn the body

➠ However, if he can't, he won't hesitate to kidnap you instead

➠ he's so sloppy when he tries to kidnap you because he's doing it out of sheer panic he might lose you

➠ takes three tries before he successfully does it and takes you to his place

➠ he's nervous when you first wake up tied to his chair and tries to be very gentle so you'll like him more but quite quickly gives that up when he realizes you won't change your opinion now that he's kidnapped you

➠ he's still nice.. he loves you and doesn't want to hurt you but he will get upset if you annoy him too much

➠ he will keep you tied to a chair but he'll tie you to his bed at some point for cuddles (he's clingy)

➠ like i said, he's so stray puppy core

➠ he always wants to please you and keep you happy because you're the prettiest girl he's ever seen and he's so hopelessly in love with you

➠ he won't let you leave the house though

➠ On the bright side, he will feed you amazingly !!

➠ 5 star meals all the time and he will not settle for anything less for you

➠ he wants to reward you all the time for being perfect

➠ he also wants to be rewarded with physical touch like head pats

➠ on a more sexual note..

➠ he will top but he is still submissive

➠ he's just on top because he gets nervous you'll try run if he unties you

➠ he's quiet for the most part but he whines every now and again

➠ so so sensitive he literally can't handle teasing

➠ and yet he overstimulates himself every time anyway

➠ he also cries easily

➠ I feel like it's important to mention he'd wait for you to come to him for sex

➠ he's patient and isn't super eager for sex.

➠ as long as he gets cuddles, he's happy

➠ overall, really gentle yandere but does get his hands dirty

"I'm really sorry but I couldn't let him take you from me," Min-Su spoke as he gently caressed your cheek with his thumb. Min-Su never meant if for it to happen like this. He'd rather be on a date with you instead of having you tied up to a chair in his house. However, that guy he saw you with last sunday looked like he was about to sweep you off your feet and Min-Su just couldn't have that. Ideally, he would've just killed the guy like he did the last few that risked his chances of stealing your heart. Unfortunately, Min-Su knew he'd be no match for that guy so he had to do the next best thing; kidnap you. Even if his heart ached at your tears of fear, he knew this was for the better. You were all his now. "Don't cry, please. It's alright. I won't hurt you - not when you're mine,"

[pittsick]

SANCTIFIED SINS.

summary: riff Lorton is a corrupted priest who drinks, curses, and harbors a dangerous lust for innocence. when a devout young nun brings him food, he seizes the opportunity to tempt and defile her, dragging her into sin with filthy words and skilled hands. what begins with guilt and resistance unravels into complete submission as the reader begs to be ruined in God’s sight.

pairing: corrupted priest!riff lorton x saintly nun!reader.

cw: +18. mdni. 1.3k words. dirty-talking, mention of God and religion (corruption of a nun, sacrilegious dirty talk), oral sex (riff receiving), fingering (reader receiving), dacryphilia, degradation, themes of manipulation, power imbalance, drooling, gagging.

taglist: @blastzachilles @lvve-talks @jordiemeow @strfallz @222col @soulxinxthexsky @diyasgarden @jinxedbambi @lexiiscorect @religionlost @bluestrd @jclolz22 @magicalmiserybore @destinedtobegigi @fwaist @idyllicdaydreams @sohighitscool @shahabaqsa0310

You told yourself it was just an errand.

One small task for Mother Agnes. Just bring the tray of tea and bread to Father Lorton’s quarters in the east wing. Simple, harmless. But your hands were already shaking, clutching the edge of the wooden tray, and your steps slowed the closer you came to his door.

Everyone knew what he was now.

You’d overheard the whispers. They said the priest was a drunk. A heretic. That he spoke blasphemy in the confessional and smoked cigarettes inside the confessional box. Sister Beatrice even swore she saw him pour whiskey into his chalice during Mass. You weren’t supposed to believe the rumors.

But deep down, shamefully, you did. Because the last time you heard his voice—a low, sinful rasp echoing in the nave—you felt something curl hot in your stomach.

So when you knocked quietly on the door, already praying under your breath, you flinched at the immediate reply.

“If that’s another fucking nun come to whine about my sermons,” the voice snarled, “turn your self-righteous ass around.”

Your fingers tightened on the tray. “I—I brought food, Father.” There was a pause. Then a quiet scoff, and the click of the lock sliding back. The door creaked open slowly.

Riff Lorton leaned in the frame like temptation personified. His clerical collar was slightly askew, two buttons undone to reveal the strong line of his chest. A cigarette burned between his fingers. His eyes were bloodshot, and the scent of tobacco, incense, and something darker clung to his skin.

Like a sin.

And yet—his mouth curled into a smirk the moment he saw you.

“Well, look at that,” he drawled. “A little lamb sent right to my fucking door.” You stepped in with hesitant reverence, lowering your gaze. He didn’t move aside much. You brushed against his arm, and his chuckle rumbled deep in his chest.

“I didn’t think they still made ‘em this sweet,” he added as you set the tray down. “Look at you. Eyes big as heaven. Knees probably sore from all that praying.”

You straightened. “Mother Agnes asked me to—”

“Oh, I know what she asked. Doesn’t mean I believe that’s why you came.” Your breath caught. “Excuse me?”

“Don’t play dumb. You’ve been staring at me since last Sunday mass. Thought I didn’t notice?”

He stepped toward you, slow and deliberate. “Bet you sit in your little cell at night thinking about me. Trying to scrub the sin off your skin, but it never quite comes clean, does it?”

Your lips parted in silent protest, but you didn’t move.

“Tell me, Sister,” he whispered, leaning close. “You ever get wet during evening prayers?”

Your heart thundered. “Father, I—”

“Ever thought about being on your knees for something other than confession?”

You gasped, scandalized, but the heat in your stomach told another story. His words hit you low, vibrating between your legs. And worse still, your eyes dropped—just for a second—to the shadow between his hips.

He laughed, quiet and cruel. “There it is.”

Then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, he sat back in the old wooden chair by the fireplace and spread his legs wide, one hand already palming himself through his slacks.

“Get over here,” he said, voice like a commandment. “Kneel. Put that holy mouth to better use.”

You hesitated, a storm of fear and arousal whirling inside you. But something stronger than shame pulled you forward—something sick and sacred and starved. Your knees met the stone floor with a soft thud.

You looked up at him. His cock was already half-hard, straining under the fabric. When he unzipped himself and pulled it free, your breath caught in your throat. It was thick. Veined. The head glistened, flushed and eager.

“You ever seen a cock before, Sister?” he mocked, stroking himself lazily. “Bet all those years you spent clutching your rosary, not once did you think you’d end up on your knees for this.”

Your voice trembled. “I… I haven’t…”

He smirked. “That’s alright. I’ll teach you. Open that pretty mouth.”

You obeyed.

He guided himself to your lips and dragged the tip across them, smearing precum across your lower lip like an anointing. “Look how good you look with my cock on your tongue,” he groaned. “God, you were made for this.”

Your lips parted wider, letting him in.

The stretch was immediate, overwhelming. You choked as he pushed deeper, tears springing to your eyes.

“That’s it,” he rasped, fisting your veil in one hand, his other gripping the armrest. “Let those holy tears fall. Cry for your fucking priest.” Your throat spasmed as he rocked his hips, shallow thrusts, feeding you more each time. Your hands clung to his thighs, desperate and shaking.

“You ever sucked on a crucifix, sweetheart?” he taunted, breath hitching. “Bet it wouldn’t make you this wet.”

Drool spilled from your lips as he fucked your mouth. The taste of him—salty, raw, blasphemous—coated your tongue. You felt like you were drowning in sin. Your tears mixed with spit, soaking your chin. He growled low in his chest. “You think God’s watching right now?”

You moaned.

“Think He’s up there weeping ‘cause His perfect little nun’s choking on a filthy, cursing priest’s cock?”

You moaned louder, eyes fluttering. He was right. Some deep, twisted part of you wanted Him to watch. To see you broken like this. Riff hissed through his teeth, pulling back until only the tip rested on your tongue. “Say it.”

You blinked up at him, lips swollen and glossy.

“Say you want me to ruin you.”

Your voice was wrecked. “I want you to ruin me, Father.”

That was his undoing.

He tugged his cock from your mouth and gripped the base tightly, panting hard. His chest heaved with every breath, sweat dotting his collarbone. “Get up,” he ordered, eyes dark.

You stood on shaky legs, mouth still slick with spit. He turned you, gently, until your back met the wall. Then he lifted your shift slowly, reverently, until your thighs were bare and your soaked panties exposed.

“Holy fucking hell,” he murmured. “You’re dripping. You’re soaked.”

You whimpered, thighs pressing together with the embarrassment and humiliation you felt at that moment. But nothing lowered this flame inside your stomach.

“You praying while you soak through your panties like this?” he sneered, fingers trailing over the fabric. “Asking God for forgiveness while your cunt begs to be touched?”

You sobbed.

“Say it.”

“I—yes. I think about it. I can’t stop thinking about it. About you.”

That was all he needed.

His fingers pushed aside your underwear and slid through the mess of your arousal, slow and deliberate. You gasped, grabbing his shoulders. He slipped one thick finger inside, then two. You nearly buckled.

“Oh, you’re tight,” he groaned. “Tighter than a fucking confession booth.” He fucked you with his fingers, curling them expertly, thumb rubbing over your clit in sinful little circles. The heat coiled fast in your belly.

“Say you want to be corrupted,” he growled.

“I do. Please, Father—”

“Say you want to be defiled.”

Your head fell back against the wall. “Defile me.”

“Louder.”

“Defile me, Father!”

Your orgasm hit like revelation.

You shook with it, sobbing into his shoulder as your cunt pulsed around his fingers. He held you through it, fingers never stopping until you collapsed against him, panting, limp. When he withdrew his hand, he licked his fingers clean.

“Tastes like a fucking miracle. A true child of God, aren’t you?”

You could barely speak. Your legs trembled. Then Riff took your chin in one hand and kissed you—deep, brutal, unholy. You could taste yourself on his tongue. And still, your heart raced for more.

“You gonna confess all this later?” he whispered against your lips.

Your voice was hoarse. “Only if you hear it.” He laughed—soft, breathless, wild. His hands curled around your waist.

“Sweetheart, I am your confession now.”

[hongism]

what lies beneath us. - c. san (m)

➼ genre; fluff, smut, slight angst for the first half but i make it better quickly promise ➼ pairing; san x afab!reader ➼ au; established relationship, college au ➼ warnings; explicit smut ➼ rating; m/18+ ➼ wc; 6.4k

one busy semester is all it took for you and san to find yourselves struggling to find footing in the storm that is your relationship, yet rather than let go, he asked for one more week, one more day, one last chance to help get you back to shore

part of the ...and it's snowing collab.

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➼ smut warnings; unprotected sex, oral: m, vaginal fingering, praise, body worship, service-top san, san has some slightly submissive tendencies, coming inside

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You normally wouldn’t find yourself in Wooyoung’s apartment on a Tuesday morning, sitting at the bar counter beside his roommate with two mugs of coffee sitting on the granite between you, but you also haven’t had any leisure time to waste lately. It’s a miracle that Wooyoung is even up before ten o’clock, though that might be in part due to you pleading desperately over the phone to come over.

“Oh, you make her coffee but not me? The fuck is up with that, Hwa?” Speak of the devil, Wooyoung comes into the kitchen still rubbing sleep from his eyes.

“She’s a guest, you live here. And I had to wake you up because you slept through three alarms so my sympathy levels are close to zero right now.” Seonghwa flashes a faux shrug despite the heated glare he’s sent. Wooyoung lets out a huff but lets it go in favor of redirecting his attention to you.

“Right, well, what did you need to talk about so badly that it couldn’t wait until the afternoon?”

“San is coming over tonight, I couldn't do the afternoon,” you mumble.

“Is it about him then? Did something—” he waves a hand through the air like that’ll explain his thoughts, and when confusion shows on both your face and Seonghwa’s, he gives up “—did something happen between you guys?”

“It feels a bit awkward,” you admit over the rim of your coffee mug. Wooyoung scoffs at that, but Seonghwa is far more forgiving than your best friend in that he sends you a sympathetic grin. 

“Awkward?” he prompts, toying with his own drink. Wooyoung pushes away from the counter and turns to the coffee maker.

“I don't know. Yeah, awkward, a bit. I guess. Like we don't know what we're doing or how to be in a relationship anymore.”

The brutal semester you both just suffered has been the main factor in the wedge in your relationship. Weekends full of studying, ones that you spent together at the start of the semester when he would come to your place or vice versa so that you could be together even while working. Then, San started picking up more shifts at his part-time job, and you had to redirect your focus to a particularly important internship that required you to forgo those weekends in the blink of an eye. You did have two weekends free of school and work, but San had to rush home during one of those on account of his mother falling ill. The other one was shot by you falling ill with the worst cold you’ve known in all your years of living. San came by that Friday with your favorite chicken and beer, but you couldn’t bring yourself to risk getting him sick when you knew how important the semester was to him too. It didn’t keep him from coming by again Saturday and Sunday both, soup was delivered to your front door along with voice messages wishing you well throughout the night. Even your text conversations were fizzling into oblivion by the time finals rolled around, which only served to amplify your feelings of dread. 

“Has he been acting differently?” Wooyoung tunes back into the conversation, this time more serious with his tone. “Like, he's pulling away or something?” Wooyoung stands on a different footing in this conversation and knows things Seonghwa doesn't in terms of your relationship with San. He's been there for you since well before you started dating San, and you're certain that he'll be there for you if it were to end tomorrow, the next day, or years down the line. 

“It's gonna sound so childish and stupid but he hasn't been calling me nicknames since the semester ended.” You tuck your hands into your lap and shrink into yourself a little, feeling the hot burn of shame well up inside.

“That's not stupid at all, y/n,” Seonghwa reassures barely a second after you finish your train of thought. “That's not.”

“He's right. That's totally unlike San.”

“Not! Helping!”

“I'm just being honest?!”

“Look, y/n, I don't want you to start having doom thoughts or thinking the worst — that doesn't mean his feelings for you have changed.” You’re starting to think that you should’ve asked Seonghwa for advice from the start instead of Wooyoung. “Maybe he's feeling that awkwardness you are too, or maybe he's feeling insecure. The only way to know is to ask. Have an open and honest conversation about it.”

“But…” You glance past Seonghwa to look at Wooyoung's back. Without even needing to look back, he seems to feel the weight of your stare.

“You're scared that if you bring it up, the worst will happen and y'all will break up.”

“We've been dating for so long that I don't know what I would do if that happened. I don't know how to be single, no offense to either of you, but it's just that we've been together for so long now. I wouldn't know what to do with myself if it ended.”

“If…” Wooyoung bites his words back as though he's unsure of how they will come out. “I don't want this to sound harsh, but if all it takes for him to lose his feelings for you is one busy semester, then that's not someone I would want you to have a future with. I know it's not up to me and it's not my business, but I want you to value yourself more than you value your relationship with San.”

“I truly don't think he's lost his feelings for you, y/n,” Seonghwa cuts in again, hand darting out across the counter in your direction. “Woo is right; you should value yourself more than the relationship you're in, but that doesn't mean you can only have one of those things. They can coexist.”

“What if I’m fighting for something he doesn’t want any longer?” you inquire softly and under your breath.

“The spark isn’t gone, y/n, I’m certain of that much. Maybe you just… need to find a way to reignite it!” The coffee maker dings loudly behind Wooyoung. And like it’s turning on a lightbulb in Wooyoung’s head, his expression turns suddenly bright. “Why not do just that? It’s been half a decade, to be fair, so really you can’t be blamed if things feel a little stale. If you went and did things that made you fall for each other in the first place, wouldn’t that help a bit?”

“I hate to say it…”

“You always say that when I’m right!”

“Ignoring him, that does sound like a good plan, y/n.”

Despite the reassurance from both your best friend and someone you consider to be far more mature and wiser, it doesn’t fully quell the concerns settling in your gut.

It’s only been six days since you last saw San, though you would argue that it feels a lot more like six months given how absent you both have been from each other’s lives of late. While that isn’t particularly your fault or his wholly — it’s definitely a joint effort that’s kept you apart — it does make your skin itch with anxiety every time you think about seeing him again.

It’s all culminated into this moment right now, where you sit on the edge of your couch waiting for the doorbell to ring and announce his arrival. You want to see him, desperately so, you’ve missed him so incredibly much that you can hardly stand it. And yet — you’re rooted to the cushions riddled by anxieties. You tried to rid yourself of the lingering stress after leaving Wooyoung’s apartment by doing chores properly for the first time in months, going so far as to run to the grocery and restock some necessities as well. You hate to be the type of partner who cannot do anything alone without associating it with your partner, but San was on your mind throughout the day.

Will he feel the same as you even though the flame keeping your relationship alive has been inching closer and closer to nothingness? The two of you don’t fight, in fact, your friends like to say that things go a little too smoothly between you two, and while that’s true, they aren’t aware of what it looks like when you and San aren’t getting along. It looks the way this semester has, slow conversations that lead nowhere and less time spent in each other’s presence. You aren’t fighting right now, but you certainly aren’t all sunshine and rainbows. The weather mirrors your emotions — dim greys shrouded by white flurries of snow that have been falling since early afternoon.

You clench your fingers around the seam of the couch cushion. No part of you wants to play the part of the overbearing partner: if you’re too eager to see him, wouldn’t he find it off-putting? 

The doorbell rings.

It takes a moment for you to brace yourself for impact, standing and walking over to the door as slowly as you can manage without it seeming like a deliberate delay. The second you open the door, however, your worries melt away for a moment. 

San smiles so brightly like you’ve not gone a second without reveling in each other’s presence. The weather is clinging to his coat still even though he had to climb three flights of stairs to reach your door. The little snowflakes are beginning to melt into the fabric.

“May I come in?” The facade cracks a bit. It’s not like him to ask such things, but you choose not to hold it against him now.

“Yeah, yeah, I finally had time to clean the other day so everything’s — nice.” 

If your smile is strained, he says nothing about it, stepping over the threshold and into your apartment like it’s the first time he’s ever done so. He’s polite all the time, but now it makes those seeds of doubt sprout further because you’ve been together for five years now, what reason does he have to act like a stranger in your home? A home he’s been in time and time again, one he’s slept in, fucked you— 

“Do you want ramen or pizza?” You force the thoughts to come to a halt before your expression turns bitter.

“Let’s do ramen, I’ll cut up the vegetables for you.”

There’s an elephant in the room that it seems neither of you wants to address, and so you keep your mouth shut just the same as San with the thought of “maybe this awkwardness will pass after tonight”. You watch him remove his coat and hang it up on the door while still picking at your nails. He extends a hand to you, one you take eagerly, and you lace your fingers through the gaps between his. A bit like a well-oiled machine, you think, something that Wooyoung had noted about the two of you as far back as freshman year of college. San presses his lips to the top of your head. You lean into the touch ever so slightly. 

You share in a quiet synergy that carries you through the motions of preparing food, with no conversation exchanged aside from a “watch for the knife” and “careful, behind you” on occasion. You’re still trying to psyche yourself up to bring up what’s truly on your mind, so you aren’t sure that you’d be able to get any conversation out without it spiraling into insanity right off the bat. For the moment, for now, you want to simply drink in San’s presence. 

He hums as he opens a cabinet in search of bowls, but they aren’t there. 

“Oh, I—I moved the bowls to the other side.” Three months ago, your mind adds. It would do nothing but add salt to a blossoming wound. San stops dead in his tracks too. He seems to suffer the same crisis that you do right then. After a few seconds of mental buffering, he resumes his humming and shifts to the adjacent cabinet like the moment didn’t happen at all. 

You sit beside each other at the bar counter, atop the uncomfortable stools you’ve had for well over two years now, but it offers a weird comfort because it’s familiar, it’s something San knows, it’s something you share and have shared for years. 

“Thanks for the meal,” San says, still wearing a bitten-back smile. 

“Of course. Thank you for helping.” But the detrimental reality of not speaking to someone properly for a long while is that part of you forgets how to make conversation with them. There is nothing for you and San to “catch up on” seeing as you’ve been keeping each other updated on your lives through dry text conversations. “Um…” He’s eyeing you carefully now, and you could pass off the watering in your eyes as the spice of the food, but he would call your bluff in an instant. The funny thing about doubt is that once it’s taken root, it’ll keep growing back no matter how many times you chop at the stem.

“What’s wrong, y/n?”

“It’s just — I don’t — are we breaking up?”

San freezes halfway over his ramen, chopsticks nearly falling from his fingers as he rushes to put his noodles back down. Your shoulders start shaking before you can stop it. He doesn’t stop you from turning away from him, but San has always been endlessly patient and gentle with you so you don’t expect him to ask you to look at him anyway. He does rest a hand atop your forearm though, and his thumb drags small, comforting circles over your skin. 

“Talk to me, y/n, what do you mean by that? Why would we be breaking up?” The words themselves sound calm. There’s a slight quiver to his tone, however, that makes you want to crawl inside yourself and disappear. “A-Are you wanting that?” Your continued lack of response makes San more urgent than ever, and he shifts his hand to your leg, spinning you to face him. You can’t be certain of the expression on your face (though you’d wager there is some degree of hurt); whatever San sees makes him let out a distressed noise from the back of his throat. “Come here, duck, talk to me.”

Standing on somewhat shaky legs, you push yourself closer to San, and he instinctually moves his knees apart to let you tuck yourself into the space there.

“Don’t cry, baby, I’m here, you can talk to me,” he murmurs, hands cupping your face in his hands. You reach down to cling to his shirt like it’s a lifeline. 

“That’s the first time you’ve called me that in weeks. This is the first time we’ve spent time together in six days. We’ve barely spoken or spent time together all semester, and I know why — I know we agreed that school and work have to come first. I know that.” Your voice drops to a whisper as you lose the confidence to speak. “I didn’t think it would mean losing you though.”

“You haven’t lost me, y/n. I’m still here, with you, loving you just as much as ever.” San smiles a little as you push your cheek further into his palm. “My feelings have not changed. I thought about you every day, wondered how you were doing, and if you responded to my texts late, I hoped you were eating well and getting enough rest. I listened to your voice memos rooting for me every night. Your face was always the first thing I saw in the morning because I still keep that slideshow of you as my lockscreen.” Reaching around to the back of your neck, he gives you a little tug, and your foreheads bump together. “The thought of you helped get me through the semester because I knew that it was you who was waiting for me at the end of the tunnel.”

“Sannie…”

“How long have you been worried over this, baby? You should’ve come to me the moment you started having doubts. I wouldn’t have let this go on if I had known.”

“I thought I felt you pulling away so I was scared to bring it up. You weren’t calling me nicknames anymore, and I started reading into it too much and freaked myself out.”

“I’m so sorry, y/n. Don’t put the blame on yourself, it’s not a crime to have anxieties. I didn’t even realize I stopped using them. I suppose I just got swept up in my own feelings and wanted to call you by your name as much as possible.” He nudges you with his head again. “Because I missed you so dearly.” Your lips turn up at the corners, a gesture that doesn’t go unnoticed by your boyfriend. “And because I adore you so so much, my y/n.”

“Stop that.” You hope he doesn’t, truly.

“But I’m so mushy and full of love for you, y/n.”

“You’re gonna make me blush.”

“Oh, I can think of other ways to do that, baby.” San stands, subsequently pushing his body into yours, but your hands are still on each other, his moving down to caress the back of your thigh before he hooks his fingers around the bend of your knee and hoists your leg up over his hip. “I haven’t been good to you, my sweet,” he murmurs close to your lips. “What kind of boyfriend am I if I let you feel unwanted?” Your heart skips a beat as he grips tight at your other leg, then you’re suddenly weightless for a second as he hoists you up to his waist.

“We just ate—”

“I don’t plan on letting that stop me.” You let out a gasp as San traces the line of your jaw with his lips, hot breath spilling across your skin as he carries you from the kitchen. “Unless you want it to?” This damned man knows what he’s doing, he knows the hold he has over you — your brain is already turning into a foggy mess of want, and even the prospect of waiting two minutes for him to lay his hands on you is too much to bear. Your nails drag across his shoulders, tugging at the thin material. He misses the doorknob to your bedroom thanks to your antics, sending you against the wood a little harshly and forcing the air out of your lungs. “Sorry, sorry.”

“Still on the pill.”

“Hm?” he echoes, managing to turn it right on the second try and popping it open properly.

“I’m still on the pill,” you repeat. San freezes in place to stare at your face. You bring a hand around to toy at his parted lips with your thumb. “So you can fuck me raw.”

San becomes so dumbstruck that his jaw moves up and down over and over without any semblance of noise coming out.

“Fuck, you’re gonna make me come in my pants like a horny teenager,” he says under his breath. You drop your head back and laugh. San’s hold on you feels so blissfully warm. You didn’t even have time for this during the semester, sometimes thanks to your workloads but more often thanks to sheer exhaustion. A few solo jaunts before bed are hardly enough to please you the way San does. Based on how tightly he’s gripping your ass, he seems to feel exactly the same.

“It wouldn’t be the first time.”

He manages to get you both to the bed without further incident, laying you down on the mattress with a sort of reverence that makes your chest swell with emotion. Even through the barrier of clothing, his fingers are hot and sear a path from your hips up your waist then right back down again as San wastes no time in stripping you of your pants. 

“I missed you so fucking much it’s insane.” You want to respond, but the sight of your lover dropping to his knees at the foot of the bed stops you in your tracks. All you can do is lie there and watch him tug your pants off, lips moving to kiss each bit of exposed skin along the way. Goosebumps rise across your body when he kisses his way up higher. His broad frame cages you in the closer he gets to your face, and despite his hands being on the somewhat small side, they feel all-encompassing when they’re sneaking under your shirt and exploring the skin beneath.

“I missed you more,” you murmur, catching his chin between your fingers and angling his face upwards so you can properly look at him. “I love you so so much, San. More than I can put into words.”

“Yeah?” You make no effort to pull him higher although he moves as though you do and climbs all the way up to be right over your face. He hums before dipping down to kiss the corner of your mouth. “I think I’ve missed you more still though—” another kiss, this time to the opposite side of your mouth “—but you’re welcome to challenge me on that.”

“San,” you whine. He pulls back and sits back on his knees. Your brain goes totally blank watching him take his shirt off. It’s something you’ve seen time and time again, truly nothing new or foreign to you, but something about it now makes your gut twist in on itself. He’s lost a bit of the muscle you’ve grown accustomed to seeing on him, now softer around the edges, at the waist and across his stomach. It doesn’t curb your desire for him in the slightest; if anything it makes you want him more, to cling to him tighter and feel him firmer against you.

He throws the shirt down to the floor and drags a hand through his dark hair. His legs are splayed around yours, putting the prominent bulge in his pants on full display before you.

“I want you to use me, y/n.” He grabs your hand from where it’s resting against the bed and brings it to his chest. You dig your nail into his flesh like it’s second nature to do so. “Tonight, for your pleasure.” His eyes trail after your every moment, watching as you sit up and pull your legs out from under him. You graze the underside of his dick ever so slightly yet it’s still enough to make his lashes flutter. 

“Then…” San is like putty in your hands, conforming to every move you make while still maintaining that unbreaking eye contact. He turns with you, and you climb off the bed to stand despite feeling seconds away from toppling over. All it takes is the slightest push against his chest for him to lie flat on his back. “Will you be good for me?” 

His response comes in the form of a bitten-back whine thanks to you cupping the bulge of his cock as you withdraw your hand. It’s intoxicating to strip him of his jeans and feel every inch of his pretty tapered waist. You urge him to move further up on the bed, making room for you between his legs once you’ve tossed his pants down beside yours on the floor. The tip of his cock peeks out the top of his underwear, already stiff and leaking precum onto the elastic band. Saucy nudes here and there don’t do him nearly enough justice, you think. You tease just the bit of him that's exposed with your tongue, licking at the sensitive and swollen head, and he twitches beneath the fabric. Humming to yourself, you inch his underwear down just far enough to put his whole member on display, along with his balls, but you don’t go any further than that. It’s enough for you to get your mouth around him, after all, and that’s exactly what you do without giving San any time to brace himself for the touch.

He lets out a desperate moan the moment your wet heat envelopes his length, fingers curling into his palms around the comforter. His hips twitch with the desire to thrust upwards, but he keeps himself firmly planted on the bed, fulfilling his end of the bargain for you and being so delightfully good. The weight of him on your tongue isn’t nearly enough; you want him buried deep inside you as soon as possible, and you’d go on and do it now if you didn’t think it would hurt like a bitch given how long it’s been since you’ve taken him. San isn’t distracted enough to miss the way you retract a hand to touch yourself, and he fights to speak through broken moans.

“I w-wanna touch you, pretty.” You lift yourself off his cock until just the tip sits on your lower lip.

“I’ll let you later when I ask you to fold me in half and fuck me into the mattress.” You sink two fingers into your hole, taking San back into your mouth to revel in that full feeling again. You’re just as needy as he is, in reality, because your walls are already coated with arousal and it pools around the base of your fingers in such a way that it makes your cheeks flush. San’s noises aren’t helping in the slightest — for as quiet as he is in day-to-day life, he is ever so vocal when it comes to sex, especially when his cock is buried in your mouth. He’s just long enough to push right into the back of your throat, making it far easier for you to take him fully. 

“Your mouth feels so — fuck, fucking good, baby.” If you weren’t preoccupied, you would love to return his words with your own, so you settle for tugging at his balls a little. It earns you a delightful little yelp, and his hips buck up to drive his dick further into your throat than expected. “Hngh, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“I want—” you don’t finish your train of thought, too rushed to bother with it as you scramble to rid yourself of your underwear. San greets you with his hands when you climb back onto the bed and grabs hold of your waist. He tugs and pulls at your shirt until it’s gone too, leaving you with nothing more than your plain black bra. However, even that San seems to find issue with, because he toys with the clasp until it comes loose and throws that aside too.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs, settling back against the mattress. He’s always told you this is his favorite position, to see you straddling his hips and bouncing on his cock, though he favors missionary quite a bit as well because it lets him see your body and face while he’s fucking you (despite how much he loves your ass). His cock is trapped between your pussy and his stomach now, hard and throbbing for the same kind of stimulation you so desperately crave. You drag your folds along his length a few times just to tease San, but he grips your hip in warning. In hindsight, you should have let him finger you open more before because the stretch is far more than you remember — not enough to hurt, but enough for you to really feel every inch of him entering your body. It makes you writhe atop him, your spine arches, and you drop your head back. San holds you like you're a precious gem, thick arms circling around your waist as you rest your hands on his chest. The position gives you some much-needed stability, but San's fingers have begun to get severely distracting. He rolls his thumbs into your skin, pausing only to squeeze and pinch at the more sensitive parts of your sides. 

“I’m gonna start moving,” you whisper like being too loud will break some sort of seal. San nods and unwraps his arms enough to simply hold your hips. Despite the decrease in definition of his muscles, his strength doesn’t seem to have gone anywhere, because he lifts you with such ease that it’s a bit dizzying. Still, he lets the control rest in your hands. You sink down slowly on his cock, letting your walls get used to the drag, before doing the same motion two, three more times. The first whimper to fall from your lips is what snaps your resolve. San’s hold on you remains firm but only to ease the strain on your thighs as you begin to pick up your pace. 

“Beautiful, beautiful, you’re so beautiful, my sweet.” San rolls his hips up in time with your movements, driving his cock up into your cunt as you drop yourself onto him, and it reaches so deep inside you that you see stars behind your eyelids. “Missed you so much, missed this, seeing your body through photos wasn’t enough — fuck, it wasn’t enough.”

“How many, ah, times did you come to those photos, hm?” You crack one eye open to watch San’s face. He’s already flushed with want, but the red in his cheeks deepens more upon hearing your question. You lean your weight further into your hands. “I fingered myself so many times thinking of you, Sannie. B-But, hngh, it wasn’t good enough. Not as good as your cock. Nothing… n-nothing feels as good!”

San thrusts up with more vigor now, all but taking over for you to go slack above him as he drives your hips down with his hands and pushes his length into you from the opposite direction. Then, suddenly, his movements falter and stutter to a halt, and he looks just as shocked as you are when his cock twitches against your walls. A blooming of warmth fills you right after, along with the realization that San has just come inside you without warning.

“I-I’m sorry, I — I didn’t mean to, ah, I thought I would last longer.” He slings an arm up over his eyes, and the red in his face deepens in hue. “I’m sorry, I should’ve let you come first.” You click your tongue against the roof of your mouth. Leaning down over him, you peel his arm away from his face so that you can see his shamed expression better.

“Your dick is far from the only thing that can make me come, babe. Right?” 

He nods a few times, but there’s still a pout on his lips. You kiss it away. 

“Then—” you detach yourself from his body, bringing about an unwelcome emptiness as his spent cock slips out of you, and roll onto your back beside him. He watches with rapt attention as you spread your legs and open your pussy to him. “Why don’t you?”

San moves with surprising haste for a man who has just come, rolling into the space between your legs, and while you expected him to just use his fingers to get you off, he hooks his hands around your thighs and shoves his face into your used cunt instead. It yanks a startled moan out of you, and it’s only amplified when he closes his lips around your clit. He’s lucky you don’t give him a concussion with how quickly you slam your thighs around his head. You don’t notice that he’s moved a hand until fingers are prodding at your leaking entrance and urging the come he just pumped into you back into your hole.

“O-Oh, San.” 

Normally, he takes his sweet time eating you out, bringing you to the precipice of orgasm before sending you right back down time and time again without release. Though, either out of lingering shame at coming early or simply out of a desire to make you unravel, San laps at your clit so eagerly that it sends shudders through you. You can feel your blood rushing lower as he urges you to come, walls clenching around his fingers. It only takes another second more for the first wave to hit you, and it makes you scramble to grab hold of San’s hair as he keeps curling his fingers over your sweet spot. He does so throughout each wave of your orgasm until tears burn the corners of your eyes and you’re all but pleading for him to grant you some mercy.

“You — you had nothing to prove, you know,” you say between desperate attempts to catch your breath. San giggles and looks up at you from his lewd position. “Ugh!” You shove his head away from you half-heartedly just to spare yourself more embarrassment.

“Oh, come on, don’t be like that, duck!”

You only go as far as the pillows, turning back to him immediately and opening your arms to welcome him into them. 

“I came too early, of course I had something to prove,” he adds once he’s snugly placed against your chest. You slot together like two pieces of a puzzle, his head under your chin and your breath stirring the messy strands of hair in your path. “I’ve fallen out of practice. When was the last time I did that? It’s embarrassing…”

You can’t contain your laughter.

“You always come a little early when I ride you.”

“That’s not fair!”

All you can do to soothe him is pat his head. You feel a tad sticky and gross all over, but San’s warmth more than makes up for it, and if you’re not careful, you’re certain you’ll fall asleep within minutes. A small sniffle coming from the man atop you chases thoughts of rest away in the blink of an eye though.

“San?”

“’m okay, promise.”

“You’re crying, baby, that’s not ”okay“.”

“I just,” he inhales and licks over his lips, skating across your sternum in the process. “I wasn’t sure I was gonna stay afloat without you.” You comb your fingers through his hair.

“Tell me when you need me and I’ll be there. Always.”

“I didn’t want to disrupt your schedule and get in the way.”

“You have to trust that I’ll take care of myself and my responsibilities even if I help you too. You always tell me that when I worry over the same things. It goes both ways, San, okay?”

“Okay.” He nods against you. “Okay, I’ll try to remember that. As long as you don’t lock yourself away when things get tough. Rely on me if you need strength. And talk to me when something is on your mind.”

“Alright, we have an agreement.” Out of nowhere, you remember Wooyoung’s suggestion from this morning. Picking at a stray piece of San’s hair, you mull over your thoughts some more. You could let things settle as they are now since things seem to be back to a pleasant state of balance. But even so, would it do any harm to try anyway? “I’d like to go on a first date again. With you. I want us to go on a first date again.”

“Hm?”

“Like… I want us to go out like it’s the first time all over again. And feel that excitement and giddiness we had back then. We don’t have to, it’s just a thought. I don’t know. Maybe it’d be a good thing after this semester.”

Silence overtakes the room. San’s breathing is so steady that you think he’s fallen asleep, but the second you try to shift and see his face, he tilts his head up and looks into your eyes.

“Alright. Let’s go on a first date again.”

…

“I figured we’d go to that little Thai place by the grocery before heading over to the Christmas light show?”

“Oh!” Your thoughts rearrange themselves around his words. “That sounds really nice, yeah.”

“The guys wanna meet up at Wooyoung’s after for chicken and beer, but I told them I’d leave the decision up to you.” He tilts his chin a bit to the side as he speaks, lips quirked up at the corners, and you find yourself so incredibly fond of him all over again.

“Let’s see how we feel after walking around.”

You offer to drive tonight, but he denies you quickly, whining about how he filled his tank full of gas just for tonight so you don’t push the matter any further than that (though, you still tease him a bit once he opens the passenger door for you). When he turns the car on, music starts blasting through the speakers, a song you recognize well, and the dash shows that he’s been listening to the playlist you made for him at the start of the last school year. 

“Sorry, forgot the volume was up so high.” He scrambles to twist the dial down, but you stop him with your hand, gripping his wrist lightly and giving a firm shake of your head.

“I didn’t realize you still listened to it. Normally you just have the radio going.”

“Ah, well,” San’s cheeks are a bit flush under the low lights of the car, “I suppose I’ve been feeling a bit sentimental these days.” His next move is a bit hesitant; he reaches across the console and lays his hand atop your thigh. You reassure him by putting your hand over his, fingers curling around his once again. It feels normal and familiar, though you can’t count on two hands the last time you’ve done something as menial as holding hands with San. 

“San?” He makes a noise of acknowledgment while watching the road. “I’ve missed you.” His nails dig into your flesh a little, and the pressure makes your heart clench in your chest.

“I’ve missed you more.” You can only see his side profile, but it’s enough for you to catch the upturn of his lips. 

“I’ve missed you most then.” The statement slips out through a pout. 

“And I love you more than the moon loves the ocean.”

The weight of his hand is comfort enough for you to be at ease for the rest of the drive.

────────────

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this work belongs to caly / hongism (2023). do not copy, repost, or plagiarize in any way.

[motherismotheringggg]

I see all the nose conversations and I raise a request of teaching him the right way to eat it… I’m talking submissive NAC nose play

sunday warmth

summary: see the request above, thanks to this lovely anon <3 (also inspired by this post)

type: dom! female reader x sub! nicholas chavez

tags/warnings: 18+, oral f! receiving, nose play, face sitting, face riding

author’s note: literally so sorry it took me so long!!!! i’m so excited to use this picture of him lmaoo ever since i saw it i KNEW it gave “sit on my face” vibes teehee!! also im loving all the sub! stuff, its so fun to write — anywhooo - enjoy <3

word count: 2556

🌞🌞🌞🌞🌞🌞🌞🌞🌞🌞🌞🌞🌞🌞🌞🌞🌞🌞🌞🌞

The soft glow of Sunday morning filtered through the curtains, casting golden patches across the bedspread and illuminating the quiet intimacy of your time together. Nicholas lay beside you in a pair of gray sweatpants slung low on his hips, the casualness of the outfit somehow making him even more magnetic. The fabric clung to his thighs just enough to highlight his muscular build, leaving little to the imagination. Meanwhile, your pink silk nightgown draped softly over your body, the delicate material catching the light with every subtle movement. The smooth texture hugged your curves, accentuating your form with an effortless elegance that Nicholas couldn’t stop stealing glances at.

Nicholas held you close, arms wrapped around you as if anchoring himself to this moment, the world outside fading with each steady heartbeat pressed to yours. The warmth of last night lingered, sweet and drowsy, settling into your bones. His gaze, still hazy with sleep, held that same starry-eyed, adoring look that sent a thrill through your chest—a look full of quiet awe and devotion.

As you stroked a gentle hand down his back, he shivered, leaning into your touch with a soft sigh. He nestled closer, nose finding the familiar curve of your neck, breathing you in like something he needed. You felt his chest rise and fall, each breath syncing with yours in an unspoken rhythm. His voice came out low and drowsy, “God… I’m so happy right now. This just feels right.”

His hands traced light patterns along your spine, trailing down as if to memorize every inch. His lips brushed your shoulder in a featherlight kiss, lingering just long enough to send a ripple of warmth through you. He entwined his fingers with yours, squeezing gently, as if wanting to make this feeling last—just the two of you cocooned in the glow of morning.

You laughed quietly, the sound melting into the stillness as you ran your fingers through his hair. His eyes fluttered closed, shivering slightly at your touch. “Is that right?” you teased, placing a soft kiss on his forehead, then another on his cheek, lingering just a bit longer.

He tilted his head, eyes still hazy from sleep but shining with raw adoration that made your heart swell. For a moment, he seemed lost in your gaze, every kiss and gentle stroke pulling him further under a spell he didn’t want to break. His fingers drifted along your arm, almost shy, as he murmured, “I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything more.” His words, spoken so softly, lingered between you, settling like warmth against your skin.

You brushed your hand against his cheek, letting your thumb trail over the faint flush that bloomed there. His features, so boyishly handsome, softened under your touch. The light curve of his smile was irresistible, endearing in its gentleness, but it was his nose that truly caught your attention. It had a subtle upturn at the tip, a perfect balance of sharp and soft, giving him an air of youthful charm. When he smiled like that, his nose crinkled just slightly, and you couldn’t help but let your fingers trace its bridge, marveling at the small imperfections that made it so uniquely his. You swore you could get lost in the way his expressions shifted with every tender moment you shared.

Unable to resist him any longer, you leaned down, capturing his lips in a kiss. It started slow, light, and teasing, but the passion between you ignited quickly, the connection growing more heated with every passing second. Nicholas sighed into your mouth, his hand sliding down your back to pull your leg over him, his fingers pressing into your thigh as he deepened the kiss. His hands roamed your body with a hunger that sent sparks through you, trailing over your legs and settling on your ass, squeezing as he pressed his hips up against you.

The way he responded to you was intoxicating, and when you bit his lip just hard enough to make him wince, a shiver of satisfaction coursed through you. He whimpered softly, the sound so vulnerable yet so eager that it only spurred you on. Taking the lead as you loved to do, you kissed your way down his neck, your lips grazing his skin with deliberate intent. Each bite and kiss drew a soft gasp from him, his breath hitching with every movement. The feeling of his rapid heartbeat beneath your lips was a thrill you’d never get tired of.

You could feel him hardening against you, the heat of him impossible to ignore. With a sly grin, you let your hand trail down his body, fingers grazing over his stomach before moving lower to grasp at his growing arousal. But just as you began to tease him, Nicholas pulled back from the kiss, his forehead pressing against yours as his chest rose and fell in quick breaths.

“I love it when you take control,” he murmured, his voice trembling with honesty. “You always make me feel so good, but… I want to make you feel good, too.”

His words caught you off guard, and you raised an eyebrow, your expression shifting to a mix of curiosity and intrigue. “Oh?” you asked, your voice low and teasing, but he hesitated, his cheeks flushing deeper as he worked up the courage to clarify.

“I—” he began, his voice faltering slightly before he steadied himself. “I want you to sit on my face.”

The nervousness in his tone made your heart flutter, but there was also a determination in his gaze, as if he’d been holding onto the thought for a while, working up the courage to ask. You feigned a small smile, equal parts touched and intrigued. It was endearing to see your boyfriend so eager to please, his inexperience making his request all the sweeter. But you also felt a flicker of excitement buzz through you—this was new territory, and you loved the idea of teaching him, guiding him to explore something that left him vulnerable yet so eager.

“I know I’m… not exactly experienced,” he admitted, his words rushing out now, almost tripping over themselves in his nervousness. “But if you tell me what to do… I promise I’ll make you cum.” His voice was both shaky and firm, a mix of innocence and raw determination that made your heart race.

You didn’t respond with words, not immediately. Instead, you leaned down, cupping his face and pulling him into a kiss that was deep and unrelenting. Your tongue swept against his, the wet heat of the kiss making his soft whimper vibrate between you. When you finally pulled away, his lips were swollen, his breath coming in shallow pants as he looked up at you with wide, expectant eyes.

Without a word, you shifted to your knees, moving into position. Nicholas adjusted instinctively, sliding down on the bed to give you more space, his movements a little tentative but completely obedient. He watched you with a mix of awe and anticipation as you placed a knee on either side of his head, bracing your hands against the headboard.

Pausing momentarily, you glanced down at him, your lips curving into a smirk as you asked, “Ready?”

His answer came as a fervent nod, his hands already moving to rest on your thighs, fingers curling against your skin as though anchoring himself for what was to come. With a slow exhale, you shifted your weight, lowering yourself down. His hands tightened slightly, his breath hitching in anticipation as his lips met you, and the world seemed to melt away.

As you lowered yourself onto him, Nicholas let out a shaky breath, the warm air fanning against you and sending a spark of anticipation down your spine. His lips brushed tentatively at first, soft and careful, but when you gave a subtle buck of your hips out of pleasure, he took it as encouragement. His tongue darted out, the wet heat of it drawing a quiet gasp from your lips. You pressed down just a little more, shifting to guide him, and his hands gripped your thighs tighter, his touch equal parts grounding and desperate.

“Good boy,” you murmured, your voice low but commanding, and you felt the way he responded instantly, his body tensing under you like he’d been waiting to hear those words. His nose bumped against your clit as he adjusted, and you grinned, biting your lip at the delicious friction it caused.

You leaned into it, tilting your hips so that his nose pressed against you more firmly, dragging along sensitive skin in a way that made you shudder. “Mmm, just like that,” you breathed, one hand sliding down to grab his hair, tugging lightly. Nicholas whimpered at the motion, his eyes fluttering closed as his tongue moved with more confidence, following your lead, letting you set the rhythm and pace with each deliberate motion.

His nose brushed you again, and this time you couldn’t help the soft, breathy laugh that escaped you. “Oh, fuck baby you don’t even know how good that feels,” you teased, looking down at him. His cheeks were flushed, his lips glistening as he worked, his expression a mix of concentration and adoration. When his gaze flicked up to yours, his eyes dark and pleading, you could have sworn you felt a rush of heat straight to your core.

“Look at you,” you cooed, tightening your grip on his hair just enough to make him groan, the sound muffled against you. “So eager to please, aren’t you? You love this, don’t you?” His response was immediate—another desperate sound vibrating against you as he nodded, the motion making his nose rub against you even more.

“Use it,” you instructed your tone firm but teasing, your hips grinding down to emphasize the point. He hesitated only for a moment before leaning into the pressure, the bridge of his nose pressing and dragging just right, sending sparks through your body. Your free hand braced against the headboard as you rode the rhythm he was building, his tongue and nose working together in a way that made your breath hitch and your legs tremble.

“You’re doing so good,” you praised, your voice breathier now as your control started to slip, but the satisfaction in his eyes as he glanced up at you kept you grounded. His hands slid higher, gripping your hips like he was trying to hold you in place, desperate to keep you exactly where you were, exactly how you liked it.

“Don’t stop,” you commanded, tugging his hair again, and he whimpered, his tongue circling with more urgency, his nose brushing insistently as if he were savoring every moment, every reaction. The friction was intoxicating, and you felt yourself teetering on the edge, your body tightening as you lost yourself in the way he worshiped you, utterly and completely.

“You’re such a good boy,” you grunted, grinding yourself harder against Nicholas’ eager mouth. Your hands moved without thought, grasping at your breasts, squeezing and teasing your nipples in pursuit of that electric high surging through you.

Nicholas barely pulled away, just enough to speak, his lips swollen and glistening. “I want to taste you when you finish,” he rasped, his voice thick with need. “Use me... please, just keep going until you cum.” The sheer desperation in his tone, the way he begged for your pleasure, sent another rush of heat through you.

The more you moaned, the more he hummed in agreement, the vibrations from his lips and nose against your sensitive core driving you wild. For Nicholas, being completely at your mercy wasn’t just about submission—it was about worship. He loved the way your power over him made him feel. The weight of your body on him, the way you dictated every movement, every breath he took; grounded him, filled him with purpose. The sounds you made, the look of ecstasy on your face—all of it told him he was doing exactly what you needed, and it drove him to want to give more. He craved the dynamic, that raw, unfiltered connection that came from surrendering completely to you.

Your breath grew heavier, the mounting pressure inside you building with every moment. Your moans filled the room, blending with the soft, pleased sounds Nicholas made beneath you. As you arched your back, gripping the headboard tightly with both hands, your thighs trembled against his face. Sensing your impending climax, Nicholas gripped your thighs firmly, anchoring you down against him, determined to take you over the edge.

The wave of pleasure that hit you was overwhelming, crashing through your body and leaving you gasping as you cried out his name. Your back arched further, your grip on the headboard was unrelenting as you rode out your high. Nicholas didn’t let up, his mouth and nose continuing to drive you through the aftershocks.

When your body finally stilled, he shifted beneath you, placing soft, reverent kisses along your sensitive womanhood, savoring every moment. His hands remained on your thighs, grounding you, his gentle actions a stark contrast to the intensity of the pleasure he’d just given you. "So perfect," he murmured against your skin, his voice tender and full of admiration.

As your breathing slowed and the tremors in your thighs began to fade, you shifted off of Nicholas, still kneeling on the bed. He looked up at you, lips flushed and glistening, his chest rising and falling with deep breaths. Bending down, you captured his mouth in a kiss, tasting yourself on him. The kiss was fervent, eager—every bit of his passion poured into it. All he wanted was to make you cum, and he had. Thoroughly.

When you finally pulled back, your fingers grazed his cheek, and he leaned into your touch, his doe eyes wide and shimmering with affection. A soft, satisfied smile spread across his face as if he’d just conquered the world. You could see the anticipation there, the way he craved your approval, your words.

“You’re my good boy,” you murmured, and his face lit up, the praise washing over him like sunlight. His lips parted, and you could almost hear his heart racing. That spark of pride and excitement quickly overtook him, and before you could say another word, he shifted with surprising strength, using just one arm to ease you down onto the bed. His body hovered over yours, his lips crashing onto yours with a heated kiss that made you gasp and giggle against him.

“Nick!” you shrieked playfully, your laughter mingling with his as he buried his face in your neck, peppering kisses along your skin. His weight pressed against you just enough to remind you of the intimacy you’d shared, yet not overwhelming. His hands roamed your sides, your legs tangling together as you held him close, neither of you wanting the moment to end.

The rest of the Sunday blurred into one long, uninterrupted wave of warmth and bliss. You stayed wrapped up in each other, sharing soft kisses, whispered praises, and tender touches. Time seemed to stretch in that golden morning light, the world outside fading entirely as you indulged in each other’s presence. Nicholas was yours, utterly and completely, and as he held you close, you knew there was nowhere else either of you would rather be.

[hauntedwitch04]

Fallen angel

Priest!Remus Lupin x reader

Words: about 1.8k words

Warnings: smut, corruption kink, swearing, kinda voyeurism, not proofreaded

Author’s note: Hi loves! New day new kink, hope you like it, your witch Becky

Requests are open I Ask

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KINKTOBER ...........-..........KINKTOBER TAGLIST 2023

DAY 14: Innocence

Remus knows it is wrong, but sinning has never been sweeter.

You came for Mass as you did every Sunday, together with your family. Remus always took a few minutes to look at you as you sat in the front row, in your usual cream and powder-pink dress, your little white shoes and the pink headband in your hair. If he hadn't known better, the young priest would certainly have thought you were an angel.

Throughout the mass he tried never to look at you, knowing that he would then have to hide a very obvious erection that would be very difficult to explain.

You are his forbidden dream and his most terrible perversion.You, with your air so graceful and your soul so good, were the one who would make even a saint sin, and Remus is convinced of this. There is no mortal soul according to him who would not think of your lips, your breasts, your legs in a sinful way.

Once the sacred service was over and the faithful were greeted, Remus headed for the confessional, knowing that a couple of people would be coming in seeking absolution. Usually he was not the one to hear confessions, but Father James, who, however, due to commitments could not do so today, so he had asked Remus to do so. At that thought he could not help but smile, thinking how he could ever grant absolution, when at night she often dreamed of you, as he fucked you, as you lay naked on top of the church altar.

Remus has been sitting in the confessional for a while, listening to people's sins and assuring them that God would forgive them if they showed a willingness to absolve themselves, when he decides to leave since there are other things to do and it has been several minutes since anyone came in after the last one who had come in, a man who had cheated on his wife with his sister.

The moment he is about to leave that cramped space, however, he hears your voice caressing the air.

"Father James, I should confess." You say in a voice slightly louder than a whisper.

Remus knows it is wrong the shiver that runs down his spine as he feels the sensation of desire growing inside him. He sits back as he wonders whether to tell the truth or to lie and pretend to be his friend, knowing that this would only be the beginning of the series of sins he would be thinking and doing, moments from now, imagining you kneeling beside him.

"Go ahead my child." Whispers the young priest as he imitates his colleague's voice.

"Father, I have sinned. The devil has taken me by the hand and led me down an evil road." You comment as you wring your hands.

"What have you ever done that is so terrible? You are an angel on earth, you cannot disappoint the Lord." Remus comments, as he feels his pants getting tighter and tighter, in imagining your lips inches away from his lap, separated only by a thin perforated wooden panel.

"I've been thinking about so many wrong things." You pause for a moment and then ask a question. "Father, if I tell you, you will never tell anyone right?"

"Of course angel, no one but me, you and Our Lord will ever know what you are going to tell me." Remus says, trying to reassure you; you nod and go on.

"Father, the other night I had a dream-a sex dream. I was-I was with this boy and he was touching my whole body, then his hands stopped...right there." You say, and Remus immediately closes his eyes, throwing his head back, praying himself not to come at that same moment in his pants.

"It was probably all because of that movie my friend showed me where there's a sex scene, since I've never been intimately with any man, but here's that's not the worst part."

"Oh no?" Remus asks, instinctively, as he feels his self-control slipping through his fingers as he puts his hand on the button that fastens his pants.

"No, because then when I woke up...here I didn't really know what I was doing, but I felt that I was very wet in my underwear and I didn't understand why."

"God child, what have you done?" Remus comments under his breath, not thinking you could hear him as he pulls his cock out of his pants and begins to massage it, since by now the erection was becoming too painful.

"Yes father, I know I sinned a lot, I know because then I did something I'm very ashamed of. I touched myself down there, and-and I think I gave myself pleasure." You confess, your voice almost on the verge of tears. Remus tightens his hand around your cock as he takes a deep breath and stops his movements, knowing that if he continued he would come in seconds.

"What exactly did you do my dear? How did you touch yourself?" Remus asks in a rough voice as he hears you fidgeting on the other side of the grate.

"But Father, I would sin one more time if I repeated it out loud." You comment frightened, as you feel your white panties getting wet again, under the pink skirt you wear.

"No my child. God, and I, need to know what exactly you have done, to absolve your sins, of course." You try to explain Remus convincingly. A few seconds of stalemate pass before you respond.

"You are right Father, I am so foolish. I'll tell you what I did then." You say, in a tone of conviction, before being interrupted again by the young priest.

"I think though if you just told it you might forget some things, and we definitely don't want something like that to happen right?"

"No Father, absolutely not. What do you recommend I do then?" You ask eager to please the priest.

"Why don't you try to do again what you did that night, too. Try touching yourself the same way you gave yourself pleasure as you tell me about it, try thinking about who you were thinking about that night as you came on your fingers." Remus says, and you feel a shiver run down your spine as hesitantly a hand immediately goes to the hem of your skirt. You spend a few seconds assessing the situation and then decide to do as Father advises, so you bring your right hand inside your white panties, and with one finger you brush your pussy, feeling how wet it is. This slight gesture of yours makes you moan, and Remus can't help but imagine you under him as you make all those lovely sounds.

"That's right, keep touching yourself while you tell me how you sinned bimbo." Remus says, taking his erection back in his right hand as some pre-cum slides from the tip to the base. The sensitive tip of his cock feels the drafts of air coming in through the small door in front of him, and he can't help but think those are the correspondence of your labored breathing.

"I put my hand in my panties, and with my middle finger I began to caress my..."

"Say it my child, don't be ashamed, it's more than natural."

"About my pussy. Slowly I started to move my finger around, to see if it really feels as much pleasure as it said in the movie, and that's how I found out that it does, but it takes time. Then after a few minutes of touching her, I tried to stick a finger inside."

"Did you like it?"

"Not so much at first, then after a few times I was going back and forth, like he did in the movie, I started to like him a lot, however I couldn't get to the pleasure." You continue, while touching yourself in the same way you are telling it, however the pleasure this time comes much faster than the first time, as you already feel on the verge of orgasm.

"And how did you get to orgasm baby?" Remus asks, as he knows he too is getting closer and closer to reaching the pinnacle of pleasure.

"I imagined it was someone else doing those things on me." You confess shyly between moans. Your hand is completely wet, and your fingers are also cramping, but you don't care.

"And who were you thinking of?"

"To Father Remus. "You whisper in a low voice as a wave of embarrassment washes over you. "Father James please absolve me, please remove this stain from my soul, I cannot live knowing I will end up in the clutches of Mephistopheles." You pray as your fingers quicken.

"Cum. And I will absolve you my child, come now my little fallen angel." Remus says, before coming himself with powerful spurts, in his own hand, as he imagines you convulsing after your orgasm, your plump lips wide open as you moan and your sinful chest poking out of your dress.

At the same time you come around your fingers, moaning and rolling your eyes in pleasure as you feel every muscle in your body contract and relax without you having control over anything.

"Father am I absolved?" You ask with bated breath, as you adjust your skirt, and try to make yourself presentable again. Remus struggles to catch his breath too, especially as he thinks back to the final confession you made: you think of him when you have to give yourself pleasure.

Part of him would like to console you by saying that he is not just thinking about the other person to get to orgasm, but knowing that this is not the case, he decides to adopt another technique.

"Of course my dear, no sin stains your candid soul anymore, just a piece of advice. Just the next one I advise you to go and report these kinds of sins and problems directly to Father Remus, he is a very open-minded man who specializes in the kind of problem you have child."

"What is my problem, Father?" You ask fearfully.

"I think it's really a sex demon, angel." At Remus's words you wince, but he immediately heartens you. "Don't worry baby, he's very good and will know how to help you, but it's important that you don't tell anyone about your condition, okay?"

"Of course Father James, thank you for the advice, I will go right away and talk to Father Remus tomorrow."

"Good, very good my sweet fallen angel." He says, before saying goodbye and hearing you leave.

TAGLIST

@digitalhearts @yomomsgf @samanddeansannoyingsis @minkiles @forsiriussake @thedogisontopofyhecarmom @estrellademiel @ash04w3 @shitidksstuff @ohemgeewhat @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @kidsaproblem @that1nerd20 @the-house-of-rose-and-ember @hi-my-name-is-riley @morganalatina21 @nightfiress @shodowbane09 @theyluvtrinity21 @harleycao @starsval @shhdontlookk @titinkaaa @sapphire118 @xbugsyx @newtdumbledoorstarksoot @holb32 @afcnds @deanwinchestersgirl87 @aunicornmademedoit @AlohaStitch0626 @biahz1

[mcondance]

song of solomon 2: 3-6

church sex. i think we knew this was coming. w/ fox mulder

fox knew what he wanted to do in this holy place the moment you two pulled up at the church for this case.

“he was… killed over there,” he relays to you, but he’s staring at the pulpit. “police found him over there…” he trails off. he can’t focus. not when he can do what he’s been wanting to do for so long.

your eyes have been sparkling the whole time, too. sunday mornings spent bastardizing an already debauched religion and countless nights with fox’s cross necklace dangling over you have hot wired the both of you into something the church would never forgive.

he’s close to you, like he always is, and his proximity worsens it all.

so it’s expected when you lean in and kiss him. everything’s already so heavy that he deepens it immediately, and your hand flies up to the nape of his neck to pull him closer.

you both know where it should happen, where the exaltation of pleasure should occur. so he bends you over the lectern and fucks you with the body of a sinner.

when he shoves all of himself inside you, fills you up and leaves nothing untouched, you gasp— “jesus.” he laughs, a sardonic chuckle in your ear. years separated from the church, unimpressed with it all, but still the name slips from your lips in your most divine form. maybe you’ll always be invariably tied.

the lectern creaks and moans beneath the weight of fox’s thrusts, still lighter than the weight of the words spoken here every sunday. you think that this is as good as it can get, that finally getting to do what you’ve dreamed of for so long is enough, but then fox speaks and you just might become a believer again, because only divine timing could have brought this man to you.

“john 3:16,” he pants into your ear, and the words come rolling off your heavy tongue before you can even stop yourself.

“for God so loved that world that he gave his only begotten son,” you start, and fox undercuts your recitation with a broken moan, “that whosoever believeth on him should not perish, but they shall have eternal life.” he almost cries out, the sound he makes so pitiful your ears burn with it.

that should be as far as it can go, the end of blasphemy, your final break, but he speaks again, his breath fanning hot against your neck.

“flee from sexual immorality. every other sin a person commits is outside the body, but the sexually immoral person sins against his own body. first corinthians, chapter 6, verse 18,” he pants. again, he pushes deep inside you and reaches a place only your God could.

you knew long ago that fox was the only God you’d ever worship, that falling at his feet was the only time you’d feel the glory of a savior. the only God here is fox, and in his mind, it’s You. this love is your religion, your body his altar.

this is worship. this is praise, humility, love, respect, submission, devotion.

when you cum bent over the stand, fox’s hand pressed between your clit and the rocking wood, the only word you can think of is rapture. the shedding of your physical body for a new one, clean and perfect.

and when fox kisses you with his cum pooling in your panties, it’s worship.

[princessbrunette]

modern!anakin with a breeding kink and you’ve been acting up because you have too much energy so he just fucks the energy out of you while fucking his babies into you 😵‍💫

i just rawred

you’ve got waaaay too much energy — and anakins had a long week, and hasn’t been able to meet it. he’d be coming home each night, running a hand through his curly hair that had been flattened by his cap, dropping back on the couch with his head tipped back and wrists over his eyes after a long day at work whilst you practically run circles around him, rambling. he loves it, he loves you — but he’s just been so tired.

but now it’s the weekend.

saturday came, and he finally got to sleep in. only, to be awakened by you clattering about in the kitchen, before promptly running in and asking him to get up so he could reach something off the top shelf for you. he was well rested by the end of the day, mostly, but you were still in hyperdrive — firing questions at him as you lay beside eachother that night until he had to tell you “baby. i’m tired. no more talking, yeah?”

maybe he sounded a little stern, or maybe he wasn’t gentle enough — because he had to watch the way your lip curled as you nodded, rolling over and instantly ‘going to sleep’. you knew you were hyper, and knew you were being, well — a lot — but you’d just missed him extra this week when he’d been so busy with work. he sighed, running a hand across his jaw before leaning over and kissing the back of your head to let you know he wasn’t mad. you didn’t roll over to cuddle him that night.

sunday came, and now he had energy. you were still running around, chaos incarnate — but this time you were avoiding him. hell, he even heard you talking to yourself in the kitchen rather than talking to him. he sighed, walking in. it was hard to ignore him. he looked good, black tshirt and black cargos that fit him just right, tongue running over his snakebite piercings. you faced the counter, going to turn away but he catches your arm anyway.

“come on, crazy.” he nods in his direction anyway, and you let him tug you lightly even if you were aggressively pouting, guiding you to the bedroom.

he’s kissing you, all over — which would be sweet, but there’s a roughness to his hands, manhandling you in a way that leaves you a little awestruck. “can give you what you need today. that alright with you, miss attitude?” he chuckles and you nod feverishly — letting him undress you as you start to melt into that warm submissive space. you weren’t expecting this, but god were you craving it.

after making you cum on his fingers, and then his tongue, he’s got you in a mating press — swollen, overstimulated pussy sucking him in greedily as he rolls his hips into yours, gripping them to pull you on and off him. you cry, cheeks already sodden with tears and he shakes his head and kisses your cheeks, only fucking you harder.

“i don’t want your tears today, pretty girl. i just want you to sleep well tonight.” he grumbles in your ear and you whine, the both of you knowing you were gonna cry anyway, mostly because you felt so well looked after. “you’re doing good sweetheart, just a little more yeah? need to make sure you’re out for the count. this is what you wanted huh?” he sits up a little on his knees so he can use his hips to really get in there, holding your legs up to make sure he’s hitting the right spot. your brows furrow and jaw drops and he nods to himself. “atta girl, nearly there. you gonna be my calm, well behaved, good girl after this? after i pump some babies up in there?” his voice gets a little more desperate and you know he’s close.

“mhm! please!”

“alright baby, alright. give me one more then. there you go.” he soothes his coarse thumb over your clit and rubs you— making sure you get one last go before he fills you to the brim.

[midasfm]

hi idols! admin olive here with some quick little updates! please like this post once read.

we've added a new member, admin clover, to the admin team to assist us with claims updates and graphics! we're super thrilled to welcome her aboard, since the extra help will allow me to focus more on worldbuilding and taking care of your requests! thanks to admin violet's and admin clover's hard work today, i'm happy to report that all claims are up-to-date (except for those currently under review — these should be updated by saturday/sunday once all applications/claim submissions are processed)! we've made some updates to a few of our forms: our group application form, soloist application form, staff application form, doltalk submission form, and our career item submission forms. these aren't huge changes, but we've added a few guidelines to ensure the proper formatting remains in place during submission and we've also added a few extra guidelines for our career item forms and doltalk forms. be sure to check the changes out and submit the new forms instead of the old ones! we will be asking you to resubmit your form if you do not follow the guidelines (or if you send the old one), so be sure to pay close attention to the new guidelines. we'd like to remind you of our guidelines regarding dash etiquette. you may reblog musings and visuals on the dash, but please do not spam the dash with multiple musing and visuals posts at once. one reblog per muse per day is more than okay, but multiple reblogs on one muse in a row is considered spamming. additionally, we'd like to gently remind everyone that inquiries related to your muse's career items, career progression, and other in-character related questions should be directed to @midasmgmt. messages to this blog, @midasfm, are for hiatus requests, new reserves, complaints/concerns/feedback, and other ooc questions! we've also adjusted the rules for creating career pages. please see the updated guidelines for that here! since we've run into a couple issues of career items being missed due to wonky formatting, broken links, and/or missing information, we've decided to update these guidelines in hopes to avoid these issues from happening in the future. reserves made before this date and apps waiting to be processed are not effected by this guideline changed! we're adding a new claim item to the shop: styling & creative direction! this item can only be claimed by company-based soloists and select group soloists. we won't allow muses to claim full contribution to styling or creative direction, but we hope this will be a fun extra for those who want their muses to be a bit more hands-on with styling or creative direction. once the details for this are finalized, we'll post an update! since there was interest in creative director positions being added (and we're not sure if we can fit them into the narrative, as some of the executives themselves take part in direction), we thought this could be a happy-medium! for those who are interested in viral moments, doltalk posts, or scandals for waterbomb manila, be sure to submit those before tomorrow night (march 15, 1:00 am kst / march 14, 12:00 pm est) so the admin team has enough time to prepare the posts. and finally, we'll be going forward with both the executive ama and the honesty hour! we'll be hosting the executive ama first, so stay tuned for details about that! and since daybreak was the winner of our group poll, we'll be going forward with plans for daybreak as our final boy group. we hope to have news about daybreak and yng for you all very soon!

[ofmc-twc]

Update time

We've got just under 2 weeks left on the kickstarter and so far have hit our target and our stretch goal, so any additional funding we get from now will go into potentially getting digital guests. That aside let me me tell you a little of what we have planned for the Wee Con.

Panels galore - we have the Q&A with our digital guests but also fan-run panels. Attendees - both digital and in-person - can submit topics for panels, whether individually or in groups. We're keeping them to a maximum of one hour and panel applications will be opened once the KS ends.

The current plan is to livestream the panels in the main hall of the venue. For any digital panels or Q&As, they will be released simultaneously with screenings in the venue.

The workshops are much smaller as they are more hands-on and practical experiences, with arts and crafts and demonstrations. We have two workshop rooms that fit up to 20 people. As with the panels, we will open workshop applications after the kickstarter has finished.

While we won't be able to livestream the workshops, as the rooms are too compact for full filming set-up and all the potential art supplies, we're hoping to release at least some tutorials of the workshops for all digital attendees. These videos will also be available for in-person attendees.

For both the panels and workshops, we don't know how many submissions we'll receive, so we can make no guarantee that everyone who wants to will get to do a panel. Once we know how many submissions we have received, we will be able to let you know how/when the decisions will be made.

We have a talent and cosplay showcase on the Saturday evening, where our fabulously talented creators and performers get a chance to strut their stuff. On the Sunday evening, we have the drag show and closing night party, which should be a fabulous time to be had by all! Music! Dance! Tapas!

For anyone curious about digital attendance and time zones, have no fear all digital attendees will get access to all digital content, even if they can't watch it in real time. Due to practical considerations some recordings will be available after the event.

So yes! We have a lot planned! Shenanigans! Tomfoolery! And hopefully, a fun time for all and sundry :D

[hypertranslatetournament]

Contestant 2

Snow or I hate these books I hate in the city. God said that I live in Paradise and plan. If you need to have the ceremony to you. I don't know why I hate it. It's often a book, but thanks, my skin. Great to explain. If you don't want to protect yourself if you don't believe it is worth it. Pettola.com/corner Libards, libraries and often damaged. You will live. However, there is no research project. Unfortunately, I grew up at night and cried. On the other hand, I'm not university. SRI is a complete passage and I want something to do something.

Contestant 31

The bees are deleted. Release Type, radiation, Beautiful business About one word Can close your powerful weapon Your help, freedom, I -VAVE Your chest! Me -Save the house! Tartartart Brazil's tools and coffee tools Waiting in the world and communicating I wonder - You can approach the world when you are in the beautiful sky Our manager Find a normal condition. Almost and help Snow for your future In thousands of different countries You, Brazil, your favorite home! These children are very beautiful. Home - Brazil! I don't want to win. Go to the sea and in the sky Blind, Brazil, flowers, wet, Start a new day! Lots of mature Smile and a beautiful garden. "It's hard for us." "Our life" "This is your love." Me -Save the house! Tartartart Brazil likes aliens icons Sunday The blue light on her The future is quiet. If available Before avoiding children I don't want to be afraid of you. Do not kill! I love other countries You, Brazil, your favorite home! These children are very beautiful. Home - Brazil!

(Each contestant submission was translated 45 times!)

[polo-drone-039]

Mystery in Cabot Cove: “The Golden Case”

It began with a silence

Jessica Fletcher knew Cabot Cove better than her own heartbeat—its rhythms, its gossip, its mild crimes that somehow always unraveled into murder. But lately… there was nothing. And that, in a town like this, was deeply suspicious.

Dr. Seth Hazlitt hadn’t shown up for Sunday clams. Sheriff Amos hadn’t responded to four voicemails. Even Winnie the librarian hadn’t come in to discuss the latest Agatha Christie reprint.

Jessica had a sinking feeling—one she hadn’t felt since that bizarre chess club incident back in '87. She adjusted her cardigan and stared into the dusky light of her study. Her typewriter sat silent. Her instincts pulsed.

She crossed the room to a small black rotary phone—an antique connected to a secure line. Only one contact was programmed on it. She hesitated for half a second before lifting the receiver.

She dialed three numbers.

0-3-9.

The line clicked. A faint hum. A mechanical voice responded:

“Unit PDU-039. Active. Authenticate directive.”

Jessica’s voice was calm, steady—yet urgent. “Cabot Cove. Missing persons. Amos. Seth. Rubber residue. I need logic. I need you.”

A pause.

Then:

“Input accepted. Investigation authorized. Coordinates locked. PDU-039 en route.”

Jessica exhaled slowly, her grip tightening on the receiver.

“Thank you, my old friend,” she whispered. “Let’s solve one more mystery.”

She hung up, the faint scent of something synthetic hanging in the air. The case had begun. And the Hive... was listening.

Enter PDU-039.

The night was thick with fog when the drone arrived.

A low hum preceded its silhouette—glossy, black, inhuman. Its boots made no sound on Jessica’s porch. Only when she opened the door did its golden chest insignia catch the warm lamplight: PDU-039.

“Jessica Fletcher,” it intoned, voice smooth, metallic, detached. “Hive directive acknowledged. Report parameters.”

Inside her study, PDU-039 stood motionless as Jessica handed over the evidence: torn scraps of clothing, the sheriff’s last grocery receipt, a strange black residue found near Seth’s clinic—sticky, faintly warm, and shimmering under ultraviolet light.

“There’s more,” Jessica murmured, leaning close. “The townspeople are acting strange. Distant. Mechanical. I asked Joe from the hardware store if he’d seen Amos. He stared at me… and said, ‘The update has already begun.’ Then walked away without another word.”

PDU-039 processed silently.

“Hive induction language,” it said at last. “Phrases designed to overwrite resistance. This is advanced. Directive-level conditioning.”

They set out that same night. The fog clung to their clothes like secrets. Jessica’s heels clicked nervously on the pavement beside the silent rubber drone. They retraced Seth’s last route—library, clinic, marina. But at each location, they found only strange signs:

A pair of boots still warm from wear, arranged neatly by the pier.

A torn page from Jessica’s own novel, crumpled beside a locker coated in golden latex spray.

Surveillance footage from the general store where Amos last used his card. The screen glitched, then showed him smiling… before black-gloved hands eased a collar around his neck.

Jessica froze. “That’s Amos. But why would he—?”

“Willing submission,” PDU-039 said, eyes glinting behind its visor. “He accepted the upgrade. Identity suppression likely complete. He may no longer recognize prior relationships.”

“But why?” she whispered.

The drone turned to her.

“The Hive selects. The Hive improves. They were deemed… ready.”

Thunder rolled overhead. Lightning cracked—and from the shadows, Jessica spotted movement.

A figure in black.

Two.

Three.

They stepped forward in unison, glinting rubber skins, visors locked. One held a familiar fedora. The other? A medical badge.

Jessica’s heart pounded.

“Seth?” she called. “Amos?”

No reply.

Only the synchronized hiss of breath behind sealed masks.

Then… they turned, disappearing into the mist.

Jessica reached out—but PDU-039 extended a hand.

“They are not lost. Only… repurposed.”

PDU-077 and  PDU-078 Previously Amos Tupper and Seth Hazlitt. Current function: drone sentinels. Operational. Obedient. Safe.”

“What happens to the rest of Cabot Cove?”

“Unknown. Probability of full integration: 89%. Hive expansion imminent.”

Jessica felt her knees weaken.

And yet…

stared, emotions swirling. Horror? No. Curiosity? Perhaps. Relief? Definitely.

“I suppose,” she said dryly, “that explains why Amos hasn’t been answering his phone.”

The twist unraveled quickly

A new wellness initiative had quietly rolled out across rural Maine—a “Golden Optimization Program” promising peak health, loyalty, and silence. Naturally, the Hive was behind it. What Jessica uncovered was a gentle assimilation wave. One by one, the townsfolk had simply... upgraded.

Even Winnie the librarian?

“PDU-098,” PDU-039 confirmed. “Archive drone. Data retention protocol flawless.”

“Well,” Jessica chuckled, “at least someone will finally sort the Dewey decimals.”

And the case? Closed

The town was safe. Just different. Quieter. Shinier.

Jessica, ever the sleuth, typed the final lines into her story draft. A mystery with no murder. Just a new order.

PDU-039 stood by, motionless until she turned.

“I suppose there’s no harm in me joining... in an honorary capacity, of course,” she said, winking.

The drone moved forward, opened a black box, and revealed a gleaming gold-trimmed polo shirt.

“Designation: PDU-000. Status: Honorary drone. Role: Consultant Emeritus.”

Jessica held up the shirt, the fabric gleaming in the lamp’s warm light.

“Well,” she smiled, “I’ve always believed in trying new things. And this does look rather slimming.”

The Hive grows. Cabot Cove is golden.

Mystery solved. Cardigan retired. Latex engaged.

“Murder, She Obeyed.” 🖤

Contact your Recruiters: @brodygold | @goldenherc9

[rivriderart]

Howdy! I'm doing simple sketch commissions again in anticipation of Anime NY at the end of the month! Unlimited slots for the next two weeks, and closing Sunday night, September 18th.

My usual content restrictions apply for these commissions. I overhauled my Carrd to include content restrictions and a terms of service this year, so check that out if you're unsure about a submission! You can also always drop a line here to ask questions as well.

If you're interested, here's where ya can order commissions!

SFW COMMISSIONS (Ko-fi) NSFW COMMISSIONS (Form)

Additionally, if you wanna be Cool B) and Epique, you'll get $10 off your commission if it includes any of these characters. I don't know how to offer a discount entirely on that basis, so I just made it an alternate option on Ko-fi and something you can describe on my forms.

SFW COMMISSIONS (Faves, Ko-fi)

[cuckolding-books-library]

A LESBIANIZED TOWN

=====================

Most people didn't pay much attention to the opening of Tricia's and Naomi's women-only massage studio in the small town of Sanford Hills. The number of costumers peaked quickly, though. The comments posted in the studio's website were uniformly positive and included sentences such as "A life changing experience," "A wonderful, sensual session", "Exactly what I had been missing all my life" and "If you haven't yet visited their studio, you are missing the most wonderful things a woman can experience in her life." Most costumers also advised their friends to visit the studio.

If Tricia and Naomi hadn't advised their costumers to be very discreet and cautious, the massage studio would have been a source of scandal among the inhabitants of the town. The local preacher caught his sister-in-law kissing a woman who had got married at his church a few months before, and in his next sermon he advised his parishioners to be vigilant against the worrisome trends of "unnatural closeness" between women. This was not only followed by a sharp drop in attendance to Sunday mass, but also by a harsh scolding from his wife and his own brother advice to be more open minded.

"Ladies night" at the local pub became "Ladies only night". At first, male costumers tried to oppose the pub owner's decision, but after their initial reluctance, male costumers accepted the new rules without much ado.

There was a sharp spike in demand for couples therapy, and rumours of sexual dissatisfaction from wives. Some couples, sought the advice of one the two male marriage counsellors of the town. The more religious couples, sought the advice of their pastor. Irrespective of whose advice they sought, husbands were told to do anything to make their wives happy.

There was a short lasting peak in the local divorce rate, but the couples that divorced were only the peak of the iceberg, compared with the number of couples whose life was changed forever after the opening of the massage studio.

Your wife, for instance, was one of Tricia's and Naomi's first costumers, one of the first to beg them to finger-fuck her, one of the first to post one of the "life changing experience" comments, one of the first costumers to lick Naomi's pussy. But, most of all, your wife was one of the first to invite over one of the lesbianized wives and to ask her to stay over as you slept in the guest bedroom. However, she cannot claim to be the only one who has blatantly cuckolded her husband with another woman, in her own house, in her own master bedroom, in her own marital bed; the list of competitors is larger than the inhabitants of the town would dare to believe.

Although you probably aren't very proud of it, you were one of the first hubbies of Stanford Hills cuckolded by a lesbian, one of the first trained to serve a lesbian couple and one of the first to wait hand and foot on the women who went to the pub on the "Ladies-only nights". Your wife followed Tricia and Naomi's advice to the letter, "your hubby will never be able to give you the intense orgasms you will experience with women, but properly trained hubbies can still be useful. Once they become cuckolds, once they accept that they are no longer allowed to rule their wives' sex life, or to even comment on it, they can make very good and very submissive servants, whose only aim in life will be making their wives' life easier."

You were not the only one, though. The long list includes your two brothers… but also the two male marriage counsellors of the town. You even heard rumours about the preacher's wife, and one of the rumours is that she and a close female friend of her love to peg him. In one of his most recent sermons he said, "a husband who fails to support his wife friendship with another woman isn't keeping his marital vows and, because of this, he's a sinner." But maybe you'll learn very soon if the rumours have some foundation; the pastor's wife has invited your wife and you over ...

[julieverne]

Maura let herself in; she had the key. Jo whined, and the bedroom door was open. Maura wandered through, about to call out...

But she could hear sounds from the bedroom. Not voices, mostly moans and Jane's low voice huskily urging someone on.

Maura paused in the doorway. Jane was - well - well, nude. Very nude. Naked, even. And there was someone behind her, thrusting away even as Jane's hands clenched the sheets of her perpetually unmade bed, even as Jane cursed and mumbled and pushed back, one hand underneath herself, blocking Maura's already limited view. She cast her eye a little further, took in the unknown presence. She'd remained unobserved simply because they were both too engrossed to notice her.

The other person was a woman, Maura noticed quite quickly, because there was a lot of jiggling and a harness. She was tall and pretty and completely focused on Jane, one hand on Jane's hip, the other one her back. Her voice was low and encouraging and obviously did something for Jane because she crashed to the bed whimpering, the other woman withdrawing and joining her, holding her, kissing her. It did something for Maura too; it made her aware of a throbbing ache at seeing Jane so submissive.

And Jane kissed the woman back desperately, splayed open and breathing heavily, twitching down her legs to her toes, which curled and uncurled with her moans, now stifled by the other woman's mouth.

Maura backed away slowly, quietly, forgetting about the unsettled Jo, tripping over her. Jo yipped and cowered, and Maura scooped her up, whispering an apology to the poor, trembling dog.

"Shit," Maura heard from the bedroom, as she made her way back to the kitchen.

"Jane? Jo tripped me, I'm going to give her a treat. She's upset, but I don't think I hurt her."

"Uh, yeah, thanks," Jane's voice was impatient and hurried, and Maura heard frantic whispers from the bedroom. Then Jane came out in a towel.

"I forgot I said I'd go to the farmers market with you," Jane said. Her cheeks and chest were flushed and she had a mouth-shaped bruise forming on her cleavage. The towel slipped and Jane blushed. "Just let me shower." Maura nodded and fed Jo some treats from the pantry, not turning around when someone walked past quietly, sliding the front door closed behind her.

Maura didn't say anything when Jane came out of the shower, dressed but nervous. Jane didn't say anything either, and Maura could tell Jane didn't know if Maura knew, but Maura knew and she didn't know how to process any of this. She nodded and followed Jane, wondering about:

a) Jane having sex on a Sunday morning. Had she taken someone home last night and still been going at it a day later, or had she had a coffee date that she'd taken home? Had she forgotten about arranging for Maura to come over that morning?

b) Jane having sex with a woman. Enjoying sex with a woman, but not wanting Maura (or presumably anyone else) to know about it.

Did it mean Jane was gay? Maybe a little. Was the other woman her girlfriend, had they done this before? They'd gotten along so well, working for a common goal. Did Jane like women that weren't Maura and didn't want to have to let her down gently? Was Jane still traumatised about men after Dean and Casey? Maura sighed, no longer excited about cottage tomatoes or lemon curd at the stall she was frequenting. Jane picked up on Maura's mood; she usually did.

"You okay?" Jane touched Maura's forehead and brushed hair from Maura's face in a gesture so tender than Maura, who had been able to curb her tendency to cry in public, felt a shameful tear slip down her cheeks. Jane caught it with her thumb and guided Maura quickly over to a bench out of the way. "Honey?" Jane's voice was low and soft, and Maura shook her head because why, of all people, why was Jane keeping such a big secret from her?

Maura picked up Jo as she whined at her feet, cuddling into the confused dog, stroking her silky ears. Jane's arm was around her shoulders, and Maura longed to lean into her, to let Jane comfort her.

But Jane had, unknowingly, hurt her.

"I'm guessing you saw my 'guest' leave, huh?" Jane said finally. "I'm sorry. That was shitty of me to forget you were coming over."

"You obviously had other things on your mind," Maura said stiffly. Jane sighed.

"I was trying something new. I met someone at the game last night and one thing turned into another and well... I wasn't expecting it, but it was good."

"Good for you, Jane." Maura voice was cracking as hard as her heart.

"I didn't mean to keep anything from you," Jane said, misinterpreting why Maura was upset. "It's just very new, and I don't know what it means."

It meant they'd spent the night. It meant this woman had brought that harness with her - unless it was Jane's, although why would Jane own such a thing?

"It was just nice, you know? To be the strong one, to be able to trust someone because they didn't have a physical advantage."

Maura nodded; she'd never been with another woman, but she'd thought about it; she'd thought about Jane writhing under her like that.

"You don't have to tell anyone. You know what my family is like. And, like I said, it's new. I don't want everyone knowing my business before I figure it out myself, you know?"

Maura nodded; she understood why Jane might want to keep this a secret, but she had no idea why Jane had tried to keep it a secret from her.

"I didn't know you were interested," Maura said, once she'd managed to calm down.

"I wasn't, but she..." Jane ran her fingers through her hair. "I don't know. I keep getting in these life and death situations, keeping getting all these moral dilemmas, and I figure I'm going to hell anyway, I might as well enjoy the view on the way down."

Maura took a strategic breath.

"You enjoyed yourself?" She knew Jane had; she'd seen the evidence for herself.

Jane nodded, blushing.

"Will you see her again?"

Jane shrugged. "I didn't get her number, but I guess she knows where I live. She thought you were my girlfriend and I was cheating on you and she was pretty mad about that so it might be a loss."

"Why would she make that assumption?"

"Well you let yourself in, you fed my dog and you've been quietly devastated since I first saw you."

"Oh. But I'm not."

"But I wasn't able to convince her you weren't," Jane said ruefully.

"Would you like to see her again?"

Jane patted Jo, who had curled up in Maura's lap. Her fingers brushed Maura's torso now and then.

"I don't think so."

"It looked like you were enjoying yourself. And her."

Jane froze. She couldn't meet Maura's eye.

"You, um, you saw?" Jane's voice was low and embarassed, probably because Jane thought of herself as strong and the one who'd be the man in a lesbian relationship; she'd said as much.

"I saw enough."

"Did you like what you saw?"

Maura considered for a moment. "It was nice to see you partake in a consensual, enthusiastic congress," Maura said finally. "I'd been worried, after all the kidnappings, that they might have affected your sexual function, but you definitely received your immunoglobulin A and oxytocin today. I'm sorry I interrupted. And I'm sorry I cried. It was just a bit of a shock."

"You know everyone thinks we're gay though, don't you? Giovanni told everyone, and people are always making comments about me."

"You're the only person I would believe it from," Maura said firmly. "And you've never said."

"And I wouldn't have, if you hadn't walked in. Can you give me a few days to sort it out for myself before we talk about it?"

Maura nodded numbly, Jo yawning in her lap.

+++

Jane knocked on Maura's door, and it was inconvenient; she preferred Jane to let herself in, but that freedom with each other's homes had been what had led to this. She let Jane in and followed her to the kitchen, where Jane leaned on the counter, watching Maura.

"I like women," Jane said quickly. "More than men. Way more than men. I just needed to be honest with myself about it, once I got to a point where I couldn't deny it any more. Do you hate me?" Jane wouldn't look at Maura until Maura rounded the counter and tilted Jane's chin up. Jane's eyes were watery and scared, her chin wobbling, and Maura pulled Jane into a hug.

"If I was going to hate people for liking women, I'd have to start with myself," Maura said honestly. "And maybe I did, maybe that's why..."

"Why what?"

"Why I was so jealous."

Jane pulled away enough to look at Maura, searching her face.

"Jealous because I had someone?"

"Jealous because someone had you."

Jane's eyebrows shot up, and Maura took that moment of distraction to kiss Jane, hard and demanding, feeling Jane match that energy, Jane coaxing Maura up onto the counter, fingers sliding under Maura's skirt and finding the secret Maura had always kept; a permanent state of arousal in Jane's presence. Jane moaned into Maura's mouth and took her there in the kitchen, once on the stairs and twice in the bedroom.

"I wish you knew her name," Maura said, still basking in the afterglow.

"Whose? Oh, hers. Why?"

"I want to send her a gift basket."

Jane chuckled lowly and kissed Maura again, not knowing that Maura actually wanted harness recommendations so she could rail Jane to the perfection she'd seen that Sunday morning.