#the soft Dom!top energy of it all

[ingravinoveritas]

No Michael Sheen with a cigarette moment hits as hard as Mrs. Robinson Michael Sheen with a cigarette...

fuck fuck fuck FUCK this is my obsession 🥵

[ingravinoveritas]

Michael on the Zoe Ball Show this morning talking about David at the BAFTAs and I am dying. Notable excerpt:

ZB: "Ah, Michael Sheen, must say, well done to your mate DT at the BAFTAs." Michael: "Ohh, he did good. The boy did good!" ZB: "He did so good!" Michael: "And he looks good in a kilt as well, doesn't he?"

So...ten seconds into Michael's appearance on the show and David comes up (on St. David's Day, no less). And apropos of absolutely nothing, Michael brings up David looking good in that kilt. Unprompted. For no reason whatsoever. I need to lie down...

[oftenlyshitposting]

"how old did you say your professor droid was?"

shin grunted when sabine had narrowly evaded her strike, the wooden bokken saber barely grazed sabine's nose. that's the second time sabine had to be grateful that they are not sparring with real lightsabers at the moment.

sabine strikes. "i don't know for certain, but i kinda remember him mentioning somewhere around..." the mandalorian jumped backwards when shin striked with aim towards her torso, huffing harshly. "uh, i think more than a few thousand years old."

shin halted in the middle of a strike, bokken raised mid-air. her eyes remains focused, but sabine deciphered the slight widening of her eyes indicates shock and/or confusion. sabine wants to bet its both.

"a few thousand years old." shin repeated, slowly.

sabine nodded. "yeah. he's as old as the jedi order itself, if not more."

shin drops her stance, her bokken slowly returning to her side in a manner of ending the sparring. she huffs, curt and sharp. "i suppose that explains it..."

sabine quirked a brow, leaning onto her bokken. "explains what?"

"how he knows of my master."

"oh," was all sabine managed to say in response. "i guess he taught your master how to build a lightsaber too, back in the days. huyang said his design is pretty unique." sabine then nods at the wall of lightsabers in the training floor, specifically at shin's old lightsaber. "just like yours."

"i was not taught in the temple," shin reminds sabine.

sabine laughs, nodding. "yeah, i know. it doesn't mean you don't carry the same unique lightsaber. yours even had a little more personality."

shin tilts her head, muttering, "i crafted it myself."

"i know." sabine reached at shin's lightsaber, the hilt flying gently into her palm. she studies the well crafted hilt; shin's first weapon. "it's still beautiful."

"even when i used it to stab you?" shin's voice is level, but her tone was teasing.

sabine laughed, shaking her head. she returned the lightsaber back to the wall, next to her old one. her padawan lightsaber, the gift from ezra. both shin and sabine had retired their old lightsabers when ahsoka concurred their apprenticeship. it was only a few cycles ago when ahsoka had knighted them as jedi knights and cut off their padawan braids.

shin crafted her own new lightsaber, finding an appropriately bonded kyber crystal in huyang's collections, much unlike her first lightsaber's crystal of kohlen. both her and sabine held their breaths as shin ignited her new lightsaber, and gasped when the blade emits a brilliant yellow hue; almost golden.

sabine focused on building her new lightsaber the next day, only slightly nervous under ahsoka's eyes. she felt a particular crystal in huyang's collections calling to her, and ahsoka encouraged her to bond with the crystal. she never really thought anything when she ignited it the first time, expecting a bright blue hue like ezra's, or even the same green as her old lightsaber. her eyes widen when it emits a striking violet, the blade humming confidently.

ahsoka nods proudly at her padawan, congratulating the two newly knighted jedi knights. shin thanked ahsoka with a grateful smile, while sabine was beyond ecstatic and was jumping around with her new (and a pretty one, at that) lightsaber.

ahsoka's voice crackles through the comms, earning their attentions. "sabine. shin. hera's on comms."

"c'mon," sabine nods at the cockpit, "sounds to me like there's gonna be a new mission."

shin nods, following closely behind sabine as they entered the cockpit. hera's hologram projection stands in their comms, while ahsoka and huyang are sat on the seats. hera nods at the two young jedi knights with a smile.

"hera! what do you got for us?" sabine asked as she leans between ahsoka's and huyang's seats, shin peeking from behind her shoulders.

"ezra had new intel on rogue imperial remnants activity, and we're going to investigate it further," hera briefs carefully, continuing with, "i hear whispers of shady clonings ongoing on that base, some kind of ambitious project to imbue the force into these clones. from ezra's intel, this group is continuing moff gideon's works."

"moff gideon." sabine repeats the warlord's name with a distasteful hiss.

hera nodded, almost understandingly. "we should assume there will be hefty and nasty resistance from them, so gear up. we'll rendezvous at home one, i'll be taking the ghost and my fleet with you."

"a joint operation?" shin spoke from behind sabine, inquisitive.

"yes. senator organa had just approved the mission. we're clear to go."

"i love that woman," sabine remarks excitedly, earning a questioning head tilt from shin, and a collective amused look from both ahsoka and hera. "uh, i mean, she's just so... y'know..." the mandalorian flustered instantly, backtracking awkwardly.

ahsoka laughs, shaking her head amusedly whereas hera merely sighed visibly from the holo. sabine groans as she facepalms herself from embarrassment. shin doesn't say anything, but sabine didn't even need her to, because she can sense her amusement in the force.

"anyways," sabine drags with a final exhale, mitigating her embarrassment, "go on, hera?"

ahsoka jumps in instead, "you two should get ready. we're already en route to home one's coordinates."

shin tilts her head, confused, and was about to offer some kind of input, when sabine grabs her hand and drags her out of the cockpit. the mandalorian had a faint knowing smirk on her face but didn't tell shin anything until they returned to the bunks to prepare.

sabine tossed shin's new vambraces, at the blonde. "you wanted to say something?"

shin hums, observing sabine. "yes, actually. why did you pull me out?"

"vambrace check. adjust shields?" sabine calls instead, adjusting her own as she waits for shin to copy, amused when shin sighs and began setting up her vambraces.

"shields adjusted." two pairs of energy field shields emits from shin's and sabine's vambraces. shin also checks the weaponries inside her vambraces, making sure everything is in top shape. "what is your rocket count? mine is on three."

sabine taps on the little screen on her right vambrace, replying, "i'm on five. if we need to use 'em, i'll shoot first."

shin nods, before shifting her weight on one leg. "okay. now, will you tell me why you dragged me out of the cockpit?"

sabine grins, mischevious. "well, if you missed it, ahsoka kicked us out to chat with hera."

"okay...?" shin doesn't quite get it; doesn't ahsoka chat with hera all the time? sabine shoots her a look, which doesn't really help shin understand anything.

"you're so adorable when you're confused like this," sabine said with a laugh as she clasp shin's new pauldrons on her shoulders. "ahsoka looks at hera like she wants to raise jacen together."

shin tilts her head, processing. sabine lets out a silent chuckle, amused by the blonde's clueless face. the mandalorian had to hold back a laugh when the gears in shin's mind appear to finally click, the same time she finished clasping on shin's custom-made beskar alloy breastplate.

"oh," shin muttered, the exposed tips of her ears dusted in soft pink, "that... made sense."

sabine shakes her head softly, landing a small kiss on shin's temple. she adds, "you are so endearing, cyar'ika," that made shin's eartips grew pinker, as the mandalorian made her way to the cockpit after ahsoka's voice crackles through the comms to summon them back.

if sabine had missed it, shin was thankful.

ahsoka and sabine were getting ready to punch in the coordinates for the hyperdrive jump, shin and huyang were sat behind to re-check everything else to ensure all are well. once sabine had cleared to jump, ahsoka initiates the hyperdrive sequence to home one's point. they arrived in a short count of leaps, as the fulcrum's position was not that far beyond from home one's system.

once ahsoka and sabine landed the t-6 ship in the landing bay, shin and ssbine descended the ramp not too far behind the togrutan jedi master. up ahead, the general of the new republic's fleet stood, a welcoming smile adorning her battle-hardened face.

"general syndulla," ahsoka greets, tone slightly teasing in contrast to the formal salutations, "always good to see you again."

hera sighs, shooting ahsoka a look (sabine dubs it THE look, which shin never really understood what it means but plays along anyways), "you too, 'soka." she turns her gaze to the younger jedi knights, "sabine, shin. great to see you two as well."

sabine goes in for a hug, full-bodied and warm. she then cheekily quips, "it's been a while, hera. don't you miss us?"

"well, i've already got ezra and jacen tag-teaming with chaos in this ship," hera laughs, "so, i wouldn't say i miss your shenanigans by that much, 'bine."

"oh, i'm wounded! woe becomes me!" sabine dramatically returned, placing a mock-distressed hand on her temple as she leans against shin's shoulder. ahsoka merely shakes her head at her antics, while hera chuckles in amusement.

shin, partially playing along, pushes sabine in faux disgust as she mutters, "you are too dramatic, even for a mandalorian."

"woe! woe! backstabbed by own comrade!"

"i stabbed you once, on your stomach."

hera and ahsoka laughed at shin's dry humour, recalling their first meet, while sabine pouted as she mumbles, "that's supposed to be my card to use."

the general brought the fulcrum crew to a meeting room to go over their plans and to contact ezra, as he was still commandeering his own recon unit at their target location. they were set to dispatch two five-pilot x-wing squads under the ghost and the fulcrum as the respective leaders.

hera and ahsoka are to command the ghost, while sabine and shin are in charge of the fulcrum. sabine flashes a smirk at shin, which was responded with an exasperated sigh. shin takes out ten credits out of her pocket to hand over towards sabine.

"told you."

"i cannot believe you bet for this."

sabine shrugs. "you played too, cyar'ika."

"what are you two up to?" ahsoka questions, arms crossed in front of her.

"just a lil' bet," sabine pockets the credits, mischevious, "on how the teams are split."

hera eyes ahsoka, an inquisitive kink of her brow was responded with a shrug. she asks, "what bet?"

"ten creds i say you and ahsoka are teaming up together." sabine shot the older women a knowing look, smirking when ahsoka returned with an exasperated face. she points her thumb back at shin, "this one wasn't buying it."

"for the record, i did not participate willingly."

"you are ridiculous," ahsoka sighed.

"i don't get it?" hera was still lost, not quite understanding the bubble they are in.

sabine laughs, while the togrutan jedi master shakes her head to dissolve the atmosphere. "ignore her."

shin blurts out, "sabine says ahsoka and you act like you would raise jacen together."

hera's eyes widen, as ahsoka slow turns towards a cackling sabine and a flustered shin, incredulous. "you two are unbelievable."

to her credit, shin did appear guilty as she shifts her eyes down and mutters, "i am sorry."

sabine ceases her laugh, wiping a tear from her eye, "oh, gosh. that was peak entertainment for me. sorry, guys. it just had to be said; you two are horrible at hiding your pinings for each other."

shin might be hallucinating, but she swears ahsoka's and hera's face grew a shade darker as they avoid each other's eyes.

"to be fair, ahsoka did better than sabine back then. she used to look at me like she would leave the jedi order and devote herself to me instead."

hera's eyes widen for the second time, ahsoka mirrors the general's reaction as well upon hearing the blonde's admission. sabine had stopped laughing, frozen in her stand while seemingly all the blood in her circulation spreads slowly on her face.

ahsoka, after regaining the room from sabine, turns to sabine with an amused expression, teasing, "devoted to a fellow padawan, are you?"

sabine sputters, losing brain to mouth coordination as her face is almost as red as her pilot jacket.

"at least, that was what huyang told me," shin added, her voice deceivingly innocent, though the thin smirk ghosting her lips tells otherwise.

"my, my, sabine," hera joins, arms crossed in a delighted manner, "you've come a long way from your planet-skipping womanizing tour, huh?"

"womanizing tour?" shin parroted, intrigued.

"okay, that is our cue to leave!" at that, sabine suddenly regained her motor functions as she grabs shin by the arms and drags her back towards the landing bay. she shouts back, "see you in ten, guys!!"

shin was amused the whole trek back to the fulcrum, watching sabine distractedly sets up the ship. the mandalorian's face was still pinkish and her energy remained flustered.

shin teases softly, "you are very antsy, commander."

sabine's ears grew red at the nickname, and shin was looking forward to seeing that reaction.

"we are not having this conversation."

shin steps in front of sabine, tilting her face to meet hers by the chin. "not now, we won't. but, we will."

sabine swallows, eyes crotchety, yet nodding anyway. she managed to rasp out, "yeah… okay…"

"that's my girl."

[hoshifighting]

famous poker player ! jeonghan x famous poker player ! reader

— Synopsis: Jeonghan, the untouchable poker legend, meets his match in you, that spent years watching his every move, studying his poker game, waiting for the perfect moment to strike, shattering his ego in and out of the bedroom. As you leave him wrecked and humiliated, he’s left questioning everything he thought he knew. The game’s no longer just about cards. — WC: 8.9k — WARNINGS: angst, smut, manipulation, gambling, alcohol consumption, mentions of cheating, ego destruction, heartbreak (reader uses jeonghan's past heartbreak as a manipulation to win), rough sex, dirty talk, dom!reader + sub!jeonghan (his first time being a sub), power play, chocking, hair pulling, gagging, humiliation, degradation, oral (f. receiving), masturbation (m. receiving), body fluids (cum), cock riding, overstimulation, nipple play, jeonghan sucks your fingers and etc.

Jeonghan leaned back in his chair, fingers lazily curling around his glass of whiskey. He couldn’t help but scoff when the whispers about some new poker prodigy reached his ears. His lips twisted into a smirk, eyes rolling as he tipped the glass toward his mouth. 

Really? Better than him? That’s what they were saying?

 He glanced around his lavish apartment, the expensive art on the walls, the sleek black car parked downstairs, and the designer clothes hanging in his walk-in closet. Who the hell was this person, thinking they could come into his world and steal his crown?

He heard how you took the big names down one by one, storming through the tables like a tornado. Maybe they had a point. But better than him? He wasn’t convinced.

As he buttoned up his black shirt, leaving the top half undone, he thought about what they said. He liked his shirts that way, just enough to show off his chest, always a little provocative without trying too hard. The sunglasses perched on top of his head held back his long hair, and a Rolex gleamed on his wrist. He liked to dress like this—clean, sharp, unbothered.

The whiskey burned his lips as he sipped, plumping them slightly from the alcohol. His head tilted back, gaze narrowing at the ceiling before pushing out a breath. So, this sensation was gonna sit at his table tonight. Fine. He wanted to see what all the fuss was about. He set the glass down and made his way to the poker room.

The place smelled of money and desperation, just the way he liked it.

— // —

You knew the moment you stepped into the room, all eyes would be on you. It wasn’t the dress, although it clung to your figure in a way that left little to the imagination despite its attempt at being ‘discreet.’ It wasn’t even the necklace, though anyone who knew their jewelry could tell the diamond hanging from it was worth a small fortune. No, it was the fact that you walked in with a purpose. Like you owned the damn room, because in your mind, you already did.

You’d been watching Jeonghan for a long time, standing in the shadows while your father pointed out the way he played—strategic, patient, never letting emotion cloud his judgment. You’d learned from the best. And now you were here to take it all. Just like he did, over and over again, watching others lose everything while he walked away with the spoils.

The poker room buzzed with energy as you made your entrance, the soft click of your heels barely audible over the hum of conversation and the clinking of glasses. And there he was, Jeonghan, sitting at the table with that lazy confidence that made him so irritatingly attractive. Black shirt half-buttoned, a glass of whiskey hanging from his fingers, his lips soft and plump from the drink. Sunglasses held his long hair back, giving him that laid-back, don’t-give-a-shit aura.

The dealer froze, eyes flicking between you and the table. “We’re missing one,” she announced.

Jeonghan’s eyes finally darted your way, trailing up your form with a slow, deliberate sweep. You could practically feel his curiosity, maybe even a hint of amusement. You gave him a brief glance, then turned your attention to the chair that was waiting for you.

“Well,” Jeonghan drawled, “Guess we’re starting now.”

You slid into the chair, ignoring the stares from around the table. Emotion? Distraction? None of it touched you. You had one focus. Winning.

The game started slow, with each player eyeing the table as if the cards themselves could tell secrets. You already knew what Jeonghan was up to; you’d seen it a thousand times before. He was the type to play people, not just cards. He watched everyone, but he never let on how much he was paying attention. Those sharp eyes darting from one player to the next.

You glanced at the woman on the other side of the table, her mirrored glasses catching the shady light. Amateurs. You could see her cards in the reflection—oblivious, reckless. A snort almost left your lips, but you held it back. Instead, your brows furrowed, unable to comprehend how someone could be that careless.

Jeonghan noticed too. His eyes flicked toward the woman, then shifted back to you. He caught the disgust on your face and had to suppress a laugh, a short breath escaping his nose. It was barely noticeable, but you didn’t miss it.

That’s how he played—small reactions, little observations. He wasn’t just studying the cards. He was reading the room. But that’s where most people faltered. Poker wasn’t just about reading your opponent; it was about mastering yourself. Turning off every feeling, every twitch of emotion. You weren’t here to feel. You were here to win. And to win, you had to make choices that seemed heartless to everyone else. But for you, it was all part of the plan.

Jeonghan, on the other hand, was searching for something. His eyes scanned your face, looking for any sign, any crack in your composure. But there was nothing. Your expression was stone-cold, eyes devoid of the shine he’d seen in others. Where most people’s emotions played out on their faces—joy, fear, anger—you gave him nothing. Your gaze was lifeless, almost opaque, like you weren’t really there. You were present, but distant, your mind somewhere else entirely.

And for once, he couldn’t figure someone out.

In poker, most people give themselves away without even realizing it. The way their breath catches when they get a good hand, or how their fingers tap when they’re bluffing. Some people can’t hide a damn thing, spilling their favorite music, their past traumas, their entire soul with a single look. But you? Jeonghan couldn’t even tell if you were a real person sitting across from him. You were like a ghost—untouchable, unreadable.

He detested that.

Still, he didn’t let it show. He leaned back in his chair, eyes narrowing as he raised the stakes. His movements were plotted, but you could tell his focus had shifted. He was no longer playing to win. He was playing to figure you out. Watching the way your fingers hovered over the chips, how you folded your cards with meticulous, emotionless care.

You saw it. The way he tried to bait you. He’d push, then pull back, testing the waters, throwing small bluffs, but never fully committing. That was his game—slow manipulation, never giving you too much, always keeping you on your toes.

But you’d already seen it. You’d watched him do it time and time again. You weren’t fooled by the charm, the calculated nonchalance. You knew exactly what he was trying to do. He wanted to get inside your head, unravel whatever mystery he thought you were hiding.

The game stretched on, cards dealt, chips thrown in. But as the final hands approached, something strange happened. Neither of you was winning.

Jeonghan was too wrapped up in his obsession with breaking you down, and you? You were too focused on figuring out his game—confirming every theory you’d ever had about how he played. His tells, his habits, the way his fingers always lingered a second too long on his cards when he was bluffing. You knew him. Inside and out.

But that didn’t help you win. Not tonight.

The dealer called the game. Neither of you took the pot.

Jeonghan leaned back in his chair, a slow, lazy smirk curling on his lips. “Guess we’ll have to do this again sometime,” he said, though you could tell he wasn’t as calm as he wanted to appear.

You just looked at him, eyes still flat, still unreadable. “Maybe,” you replied, voice cold and detached. “But next time, focus on the cards.”

For a moment, he just stared at you, trying one last time to peel back the layers. But he couldn’t.

You are going to be a pain in his neck. 

[...]

Jeonghan had been searching for you everywhere—tax records, statements, social media, anything that could give him a glimpse into who you were outside the poker room. But nothing. 

And the irony of it all? You were right under his nose, standing behind his back in the past, unnoticed, more times than he could count. Just another face in the crowd, a "normal" girl, blending into the background while making small talk with the people who mattered. Someone important, someone worth impressing—but not you, not in his eyes. He never paid enough attention to connect the dots.

That was Jeonghan’s weakness. He could size up the players at the table, but in the real world? He let things slip. You remembered when you caught him, the moment he faltered at the table—a time he lacked patience, maybe it was the alcohol, maybe he was too sure of himself, but his fingers twitched when he was about to bluff too big. You’d hissed under your breath, watching him give himself away with that tiny tell. He was good, no doubt, but even the best had cracks.

There was also that time, years ago, when he had a girl by his side. A classic, picture-perfect trophy—long legs, expensive clothes, hair and nails done like she was auditioning for a role in some gangster flick. She was the stereotypical “pimp’s wife,” hanging off Jeonghan’s arm while he gazed at her with those stupid, love-drunk eyes. 

You had rolled your eyes so hard they almost got stuck. 

The entire casino buzzed with rumors about her—the way she’d swindled money under his nose, how she was there for the money, for the benefits. And Jeonghan? He didn’t even see it coming. Too wrapped up in the fantasy, too blind to notice how she played him. Eventually, she broke his heart in the most humiliating way possible, leaving him behind with nothing but those pathetic rumors, the gossip about his downfall trailing after him like perfume.

Tonight, though, things were different. This game wasn’t in the usual place. No, it was on a luxury cruise, far outside any regulations, outside the safety of controlled territory. Here, anything could happen, and everything was allowed. You made sure your presence was felt before you even sat down. A bigger diamond hung around your neck tonight, matching the heavy stones on your earrings and the glint of the ring on your finger. It was subtle, but anyone with half a brain could tell what you were signaling—wealth, power, danger. A quiet boast that you could bury anyone at this table if you wanted to.

As you sat down, you noticed the last game’s winner strategically choosing the seat next to yours, clearly hoping to ride the wave of luck or maybe get a read on you. A smile tugged at your lips. Not today, ma boy. He thought he had an advantage? Not even close. You glanced at him, knowing full well that every smile you gave, every tiny reaction, was another move in the game. But you were always three steps ahead of them all.

Across from you sat Jeonghan, his gaze as slutty as ever, eyes dragging over you with zero shame. You knew that look—he wasn’t even trying to hide his interest. But you didn’t bite. You didn’t act on impulse, never did. Every move you made was calculated, every risk weighed and measured long before you stepped into this room. That’s how you won. While everyone else was still trying to figure out the rules, you’d already written your own.

The game started, tension building as the cards hit the table. You could feel Jeonghan’s eyes on you, trying to catch something, anything, but you gave him nothing. He was good, but you were better, already mapping out his play. You watched his fingers, the way they tapped against his chips when he was thinking. 

But what really caught your attention was the way he murmured under his breath, almost absentmindedly, when he was sizing up his opponents. It was like he was narrating his own game, whispering little clues while doing the opposite of what he wanted people to think.

He was messing with their heads, giving them false signals while slipping in moves they didn’t expect. You could see the way the other players were starting to falter, misreading his intentions, stumbling over their decisions as Jeonghan fed them just enough to confuse them.

But you weren’t fooled.

You knew his game too well, knew the way he liked to play with people’s minds. He was trying to throw you off, make you second-guess yourself. But every look, every murmur, every bluff was something you had already anticipated.

Jeonghan was talking too much.

He always did this when he was trying to manipulate people—narrating his moves, acting like it was just him thinking out loud. But tonight, it was getting under your skin in a way that made you want to roll your eyes so hard it hurt. Every word that spilled from his mouth, every cocky smirk, every calculated glance was just noise. Too much noise.

And you were done with it.

So, with a calmness that could make ice seem warm, you leaned back in your chair, eyes narrowing as you shuffled your chips between your fingers. Then, with a voice that cut through the air like a knife, you asked, “Mr. Yoon… how’s your ex?”

You didn’t miss the way the room collectively held its breath. Players around the table stilled, the soft murmurs from the crowd fading into a stunned silence. People thought it was just a curious, innocent question, maybe a playful jab at his famous love life. They didn’t know the weight of it, the way it pierced straight into him.

But he knew.

You had crossed a line. A very delicate one. And you did it with a smile, like it was nothing. Like stepping over the line was as easy as stepping over a crack in the sidewalk. And that’s what set it off.

Jeonghan froze, his hand hovering over his cards. For a moment, he didn’t move, didn’t speak. His mouth opened slightly, but no words came out. It was as if your question had punched the air right out of his lungs. His cool, confident conduct cracked, just for a second, but enough for you to see the split.

That girlfriend. The one who crushed his heart into dust and didn’t even look back. She wasn’t just a sore subject—she was the wound he never let anyone touch. And you? You didn’t just touch it. You pressed down hard, twisting the knife until the pain reflected in his eyes.

“She… uh,” he stammered, trying to regain his footing, fingers twitching around his cards. His face didn’t show much at first—Jeonghan was too practiced for that. But it was in his hands. The way they fumbled for his chips, the way his thumb nervously tapped against the table.

His mind was unraveling, and you watched it happen in real time. The words you’d thrown at him weren’t just a blow—they were a ticking time bomb, going off in his head over and over again. He couldn’t focus. Couldn’t pull himself back together fast enough. You’d cracked something in him, and now all those emotions he usually buried deep were flooding to the surface.

"She’s good," he finally managed to mumble, forcing a shrug, his attempt at brushing it off. But it was too late. He had faltered, and everyone saw it.

You smiled, your eyes cold and sharp, watching as he tried to hide behind that stupid grin of his. But the damage was done. You had used his own tactics against him—poking and prodding at the weaknesses until he couldn’t help but crumble. Only this time, it was worse. He wasn’t used to being on the receiving end of this kind of mind game.

Jeonghan tried to refocus, pulling his attention back to the cards. But his hands were shaking now, and he made a mistake. He matched a bet he shouldn’t have. His stack of chips was dwindling, and everyone at the table could see it.

You caught the twitch in his fingers when he was about to bluff, the way his eyes darted to the side, just for a split second. He wasn’t even aware he was doing it, but you were. You watched every tiny movement, every subtle tell he gave away as the game went on. He was unraveling, and you were loving every second of it.

As the rounds continued, his frustration became more and more apparent. His jaw clenched, his mouth pressed into a thin line, and his usual smooth talk started to falter. His voice was quieter now, unsure. Every time he looked at his cards, you could see the doubt in his eyes. He was playing on autopilot, too distracted by the question still gnawing at his brain.

How’s your ex?

The question echoed in his mind, louder than the crowd, louder than the sound of the cards being dealt. It was a constant hum, a reminder of his failure, both in love and in the game. The more he thought about it, the more mistakes he made. He couldn’t shake it, couldn’t compartmentalize the way he usually did. You’d crawled under his skin, and now he was lost in his own head.

The more uncomfortable he became, the more the game tilted in your favor.

And then, it happened. His final misstep. Jeonghan threw in all his chips on a hand that he was convinced would win, but his bluff was too obvious, too desperate. You saw it from a mile away. With a slow, deliberate smirk, you laid your cards on the table.

Straight flush.

The room gasped. Jeonghan’s face went white, his jaw literally dropping as he stared at the cards in disbelief. His mouth hung open, but no words came out. His brain was still trying to catch up, still reeling from the question that had taken him out of the game long before the cards were even dealt.

You leaned forward, your smile turning into something sharper, more vicious as you pulled the massive pile of chips toward you, raking them in with your arms. “Better luck next time,” you said.

Jeonghan just sat there, stunned, watching as you claimed victory without even breaking a sweat. He wasn’t used to losing, especially not like this. Not when someone used his tactics and twisted them until they cut deeper than he ever intended. He tried to say something, anything, but all he could do was stare at you, his mind still spinning, still trying to figure out where it all went wrong.

But you already knew. You’d gotten inside his head, turned the tables on him, and left him gutted, just like his ex had done.

Jeonghan couldn’t stop. After that first loss, he played again. Then another game. And another. Each one worse than the last. Every time, he thought he could regain control, pull himself together, get back into his rhythm—but no. He was spiraling, his thoughts spinning out of control. His hands trembled with every bet, his bluffs grew weaker, and his confidence bled out with every chip that slipped through his fingers.

At one point, his friend—a familiar face, someone who’d watched him dominate this scene for years—touched his shoulder, giving him a sharp look. “Stop, Jeonghan. You’ve lost enough.”

But he couldn’t stop. He needed to win something. He needed to claw back even a shred of his dignity, anything to remind himself he was still Jeonghan, the legend. But the more he tried, the deeper he dug his own grave. Every hand was a humiliation.

By the time the final round ended, Jeonghan wasn’t even sitting anymore. He stood, arms crossed, shoulders tense as he watched the game from the side, a silent observer. He didn’t need to say it—the shame on his face was clear enough. He never had to stand and watch. It was beneath him. But tonight, he was left with no choice, stripped of everything he had worked for.

And you? You rose from your seat like it was nothing, your body language as casual as if you had just finished a friendly round at a small-stakes table. You didn’t even bother to look at him, didn’t care about the people whispering around you, the ones who were still buzzing over the fact that you had won every round. You walked out like the night didn’t matter. Like it was just another game.

For Jeonghan, though, it was devastating. His ego lay shattered, a million pieces scattered on the floor. The heartbreak from his ex? That pain had dulled over time. But you had ripped open that old wound, making it raw again, bringing back every piece of humiliation he had tried to bury. He felt himself fumbling, trying to grasp something solid, but everything was slipping through his fingers.

And then he saw you.

Like some kind of devil on his shoulder, you were there, watching him as you stood by the bar. You didn’t even need to say a word. The sight of you—so calm, so unbothered—made him feel sick. You ordered a drink, took it in hand, and with a quiet smirk on your lips, you started walking towards your room.

Jeonghan couldn’t let it go.

His feet moved before his brain even caught up. He followed you, his pulse pounding in his ears, that familiar swagger of his long gone. He didn’t even know what he wanted from you—answers, confrontation, something—but all he knew was that he needed to speak to you.

You walked into your room like you knew he’d be behind you, the door clicking shut behind him as he entered. There you were, standing by the window, holding your drink like nothing had happened, like you hadn’t just ripped his ego to shreds in front of everyone.

Jeonghan's voice was low, strained, almost shaky. “What the hell was that?”

You turned, eyes cold, that same infuriating smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “What do you mean?” you asked, sipping your drink slowly.

“Don’t play dumb with me,” he snapped, stepping closer, his fingers curling into fists at his sides. “You knew exactly what you were doing, bringing her up like that.”

You shrugged, unfazed, as if his anger meant nothing to you. “It was just a question.”

“Bullshit.” His voice cracked. “You—you went there on purpose. You knew it would mess with me, and you did it anyway.”

Another sip. Another smile. You didn’t even blink as you watched him unrave. “Isn’t that what you do? Get inside people’s heads? Push their buttons until they break?” You leaned against the window, eyes gleaming with delight as you spoke. “I thought you’d appreciate the effort.”

Jeonghan let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “This was different. You crossed a line.”

You tilted your head, the smile widening. “Oh? And what line is that, Jeonghan? The one where you keep your emotions locked up and pretend they don’t exist? Or the one where you think you’re untouchable?”

He stared at you, his chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. There was a heaviness in the atmosphere between you two, viscous with stress—anger, yes, but something else too. Something he didn’t want to admit was there. His eyes flicked to your lips for a split second, before he forced himself to look away.

“You don’t get it,” he muttered, his voice quieter now. “That wasn’t just about the game.”

You raised an eyebrow, sipping your drink again, taking your time. “No, Jeonghan. I get it more than you think.”

His frustration spiked, fingers twitching at his sides as he fought to keep his voice steady. “What is this? Huh?” He took a step closer, his body tense, looming over you. “What do you want from me?”

You didn’t back down, didn’t flinch. If anything, you seemed to enjoy the way he was coming undone in front of you. “Nothing,” you said, your voice soft. “That’s the problem, isn’t it? You want to matter, you want me to care, but you don’t. You’re just… there.”

His jaw clenched, eyes narrowing as the words hit him like a punch to the gut. “You’re full of shit.”

“Maybe,” you said with a light chuckle, finishing your drink and placing the empty glass on the table beside you. “But you’re here, Jeonghan. Following me, like some lost puppy, hoping for… what? Closure? An apology?”

He opened his mouth to speak, but you cut him off, stepping closer, your voice dropping to a whisper. “You wanted to get inside my head, Jeonghan. But look at you. You’re the one who’s a mess. You’re the one who’s crumbling.”

You could see it in his eyes—the conflict, the way he was battling with himself. The fury, the frustration, the desperation. And underneath all of that? The craving. The way his gaze flickered to your lips again, the way his breathing hitched every time you moved just a little closer.

But you stayed cold, unfeeling, watching him with that same smirk on your face, enjoying every second of his discomfort.

“Go on,” you whispered. “Tell me how much you hate me. How much I’ve fucked with your head. Tell me I’m the problem.”

Jeonghan's lips parted, but no words came out. He was shaking with rage, with something else, his hands twitching as if he wanted to grab you, shake you, do something. But he didn’t.

Because he couldn’t.

Because you had won. Again.

But through it all, there was one that kept circling back to the same question:

Who the hell are you?

“I don’t even know you,” he spat, his voice cracking. “I don’t know who you are, where you came from, or why the fuck you’re doing this to me.”

You raised an eyebrow, that infuriating smirk still playing on your lips. “Don’t you, though?” Your voice was calm, icy, as if his unraveling in front of you was nothing more than a spectacle for your amusement.

“No.” He shook his head, stepping closer, his face inches from yours now. “I don’t. You—” His words stumbled, caught in the whirlwind of emotions he couldn’t make sense of. “You show up out of nowhere, tear me apart in front of everyone, and then act like I’m supposed to—” His voice wavered, almost pleading. “I don’t even know your fucking name.”

You chuckled, a low sound that made him shiver. “That’s the thing with you, Jeonghan. You don’t know anyone, really. Not unless it benefits you. You see people as pawns, tools to get what you want. All these years, you’ve played your little game, always one step ahead of everyone else. But you never bothered to look around, did you? Never noticed the people who were watching you.”

His brows furrowed, confusion flickering in his eyes. “What the hell are you talking about?”

You leaned in just enough that your breath brushed his skin. “I was always there, Jeonghan. Watching. Learning. I’ve seen you win, lose, fake that stupid smile when things don’t go your way.” Your eyes darkened, voice dropping as your lips curled into a mocking smile. “But you? You never noticed me. Not once.”

Jeonghan’s breath hitched as your words sank in. His mind raced, trying to piece together fragments of memories, moments, faces in the background. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t place you. “You’re lying,” he said, his voice shaking, though he wasn’t even sure who he was trying to convince anymore.

“I’m not.” Your voice was cold, cutting through his defenses with ease. “You were too wrapped up in your own world to notice anyone who didn’t directly serve you. That’s your problem, Jeonghan. You think the world revolves around you, and anyone outside your little bubble? They don’t exist. You never cared to look at anyone unless they were a threat to you. Unless they had something you wanted.”

His jaw clenched, anger flashing in his eyes. “You don’t know a damn thing about me.”

“I know enough.” You stepped closer, your bodies barely an inch apart now. He could feel the heat radiating off you, the way your words slipped under his skin, pulling at every insecurity he had buried deep. “I know how you ignored the signs when your ex was using you. How you let her walk all over you because you were too blind to see her for what she really was. I know how you couldn’t keep your emotions in check tonight, how I got into your head so easily because you’re weak.”

Jeonghan’s breath came out in shallow bursts, his chest heaving with each one. He was crumbling, and he knew it. But he couldn’t stop himself from spiraling, not with the way you were tearing him apart piece by piece. “Shut up,” he whispered, voice barely audible—as if he was afraid of how much truth was in your words.

You didn’t stop. You pressed on, your voice softer now, but no less cutting. “That’s why you don’t remember me. Because I didn’t matter to you. Because I wasn’t something you could use.”

Jeonghan's gaze flickered to your lips, the pressure between you two thickening with every word that passed. He wanted to hate you. He wanted to scream at you, push you away, do anything to get you out of his head. But he couldn’t. Instead, he found himself leaning in closer, drawn to the coldness in your eyes, the way you seemed to see right through him.

“And now?” he muttered, his voice hoarse, almost a growl. “What do you want now?”

You tilted your head, a wicked gleam in your eyes as you smiled, your voice dripping with condescension. “I already got what I wanted.” You reached up, your fingers ghosting along the side of his face, barely touching him, yet it sent a shock through his entire body. “You. Like this. Completely wrecked. Fucked, because of me.”

His breath hitched, and before he could think, his hands shot up to grip your waist, pulling you flush against him. It was a desperate, reckless move, one born out of frustration, anger, and something else he didn’t want to name. But you didn’t flinch. You didn’t pull away.

Instead, you smirked up at him, your eyes glinting with something dark, and whispered, “You’re so predictable.”

“Shut up,” Jeonghan hissed again, but this time, his voice was strained, thick with something deeper than just anger. His fingers tightened around your waist, holding you in place as if he was afraid you’d slip away if he let go. He hated how much power you had over him, how every word out of your mouth only made him want you more.

You raised an eyebrow, that same infuriating smile still plastered on your face. “Make me.”

That was all it took for him to snap.

And then, he kissed you like he was trying to take back control, like he needed to prove something—to himself, to you, to anyone watching. But deep down, he knew it was a losing battle. Because you weren’t kissing him back with desperation. No, you kissed him like you had already won and this was just another part of the game.

His hands roamed your body, fingers digging into your skin as if he needed to ground himself, to feel something real in this moment. But even as he kissed you, even as he lost himself in the heat of the moment, that nagging thought stayed at the back of his mind.

You were still in control.

And that thought only made him kiss you harder, more fiercely, like he could erase it if he just tried harder.

“You’ll never figure me out,” you murmured against his lips, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. “And that’s why you’ll always lose.”

He hated you. He wanted you. And he couldn’t tell which feeling was stronger.

His hand tightened in your hair, fingers tangling in the strands as he yanked your head back hard. The hurried pull sent a harsh jolt of pain through your scalp, but instead of a wince, what came out of your mouth was a quiet, throaty laugh. “You—such a bitch,” he growled, but you could see the flicker of disbelief in his eyes, watching you—fucking laughing at the pain.

The corner of your mouth curled up, lips parted as you let out a quiet moan. “You think that hurts?” you taunted, maybe challenging. “Do it harder.”

Jeonghan’s grip tightened, a growl thundering from his chest as he yanked even harder, and this time your head jerked back, the pain shooting through you in a way that only made you smile wider. The way he watched you, eyes wide, mouth salivating, had you lit up inside.

His lips crashed down on yours again, rough and biting, teeth dragging across your bottom lip as if trying to draw blood. You hissed into his mouth, but he didn’t let up, kissing you harder.

 But this wasn’t just some kiss. It was a battle, and he was losing.

Your hands gripped the back of his neck, nails digging in as you pulled him closer, deepening the kiss, swallowing the moan that escaped his throat. When he bit down hard on your lip, you cursed at him.

“Fucking do it right,” you spat between heavy breaths. “Or don’t do it at all.”

Jeonghan’s eyes dimmed, his jaw clenching as he pushed you back against the nearest surface—a column that was inside the room. His free hand sliding down to your thigh, roughly pulling it up to hook around his waist. “You think you can just order me around, huh?” By his tone… Yes, you think. 

You smirked, breathless but still in control. “I know I can.”

He didn’t waste any more words. His lips moved to your neck, biting down hard enough to leave a mark, and you hissed, arching against him. His hand slid down between your legs, fingers brushing against the edge of your panties before yanking them aside, not giving a single fuck about being gentle.

“Is this what you wanted?” he growled, his lips brushing against your ear as his fingers slid over your wetness, the folds doing a warm caress on his fingers, teasing you just enough to make your breath hitch. “Tell me.”

You didn’t answer him, but your body betrayed you, hips pushing toward his hand, craving more. He noticed, of course, because he always did. But this time, he wasn’t the one in control, and he knew it.

“Say it,” he demanded, his voice rough, almost strained as his fingers barely grazed over you, enough to drive you insane but not enough to satisfy.

You let out a breathless laugh, your eyes meeting his, still cold but twinkling with fun. “I want you to shut the fuck up and make yourself useful.”

That did it. Jeonghan dropped to his knees, yanking your dress up as he settled between your legs, not wasting any time. His fingers dug into your thighs, spreading them as his mouth hovered just above your heat. His breath ghosted over your skin, and you could feel the tension in him, feel how much he wanted this, but you weren’t about to give him the satisfaction of asking.

He pressed a hard, open-mouthed kiss just above your clit, his teeth grazing your skin before he moved lower, his tongue flicking out just enough to make you gasp. “Still want me to shut up?” he murmured against you, his voice full of smug.

But before you could answer, his mouth was on you, and any retort you had died in your throat. His tongue was merciless, moving over you making your legs tremble. You bit down hard on your lip, trying to suppress the sounds threatening to escape, but it was impossible. A low moan tore from your lips as his mouth worked you over, his tongue circling your clit before sucking it into his mouth with just the right amount of force.

Your hand instinctively shot to his hair, gripping it tight as you tried to control your trembling legs. But he wasn’t slowing down. His tongue moved faster, harder, sending wave after wave of pleasure through you until your whole body was quivering.

He bit down, just enough to make you hiss, your nails digging into his scalp as you cursed him under your breath. “Fuck—” you gasped, body arching toward him. “Don’t stop.”

Jeonghan didn’t need to be told twice. His hands gripped your thighs harder, holding you in place as his tongue moved faster. Every flick, every swirl was straightforward, designed to make you lose the command. And you were, piece by piece. The cold, detached front you’d kept up was slipping, crumbling under the warmth of his mouth, the way he devoured you like it was the only thing that mattered.

You could feel it, the edge approaching fast, and you let out a low moan, your hips moving against his face as you chased it. “Fucking hell, Jeonghan—” you gasped, your voice leaving like a whisper as the orgasm hit you hard. Your body tensed, legs trembling as the orgasm ripped through you, leaving you breathless, your mind blank except for the overstimulating sensation of his mouth still on you.

He didn’t stop, didn’t let up until your body finally relaxed against him, spent and slaked. Only then did he pull back, his lips swollen and slippery with your arousal, his eyes meeting yours with triumph

You looked down at him, chest still heaving, but your smirk was back in full force. “You slacked at the table tonight, Jeonghan.” The words rolled off your tongue with conscious slowness, each one cutting him just a little deeper. “But down there… between my legs? You were such a good boy.”

He froze, still so close to your cunt. You could feel and see his breath hitch at your words, his whole body tensing, and that only made your smirk grow wider. As you lower down, you let your fingers lazily trail down his chest, feeling the way his muscles twitched under your touch.

“You know,” you continued, voice leaking with mock sweetness, “maybe if you put as much effort into the game as you do into this,” your hand moved lower, brushing over the waistband of his pants, “you wouldn’t have lost everything tonight.”

His face faltered for a split second, the confidence in his eyes flickering as he processed your words. You could see his jaw clench, his pride taking the hit. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” You chuckled softly, your hand slipping further down, squeezing the bulge in his pants, feeling the tension there. “Look at you,” you whispered, “so obedient when it counts. Such a good boy.”

His lips parted, his breath coming out in shallow bursts, but he still didn’t say anything.

“Tell me,” you continued, eyes glinting as you applied a little more pressure, “was it worth it? Throwing away your pride at the table just so you could be on your knees for me?”

He swallowed hard, his hands twitching at his sides like he didn’t know whether to grab you or push you away. His ego was bruised—no, shattered—and here you were, rubbing salt into the wound, reminding him exactly how far he’d fallen.

Your hand tightens around Jeonghan's neck, your fingers pressing into the soft skin as he chokes, his breath cutting short. The sound that escapes him is desperate, needy, a cough that barely finds its way through the pressure you've applied. His body tenses, his muscles straining.

"Get up," you command.

He stumbles, one hand on the floor, the other grasping for something to steady himself as he rises to his feet, eyes lost, clouded over in a haze of confusion and submission that he’s trying so hard to fight. 

Your grip on his throat loosens just enough for him to take in a sharp breath, but you don’t give him much relief. Instead, your fingers trail from his neck to his chin, tipping his face up so his eyes meet yours. His lips part instinctively, searching for air, but you take that as an invitation, sliding two fingers past them, pushing into his mouth without warning.

His eyes widen in shock, but he doesn’t pull away. Instead, his lips wrap around your fingers, mouth warm and wet as he takes them in, his breath coming in short, shaky bursts through his nose.

"Suck," you command, voice sharp, leaving no room for hesitation.

He complies, but it's tentative, unsure, his tongue brushing over your fingers but lacking the enthusiasm you expect. You press your fingers deeper, feeling the resistance in his throat as he gags, eyes watering slightly. 

“Do it right,” you growl, eyes narrowing as you press harder into his mouth, your fingers curling against his tongue. "Suck them right."

This time, he obeys. His lips tighten around your fingers, and his head bobs forward slowly, drawing you deeper into his mouth as he begins to suck properly. His cheeks hollow out as his tongue swirls around your fingers, slick and wet, saliva coating your skin as he works. His eyes, though filled with defiance, are beginning to show something more desperate, more submissive.

Your smirk widens as you watch him, completely captivated by the sight of him on the edge of breaking. You can feel the heat building inside you, the wetness pooling between your legs as you watch him, his mouth obediently working over your fingers, his body betraying the fight he's trying to put up.

"Good boy," you praise as you feel him sucking harder, as if the praise makes him crave more.

With your other hand, you move to his belt, your fingers working swiftly to unbuckle it, the metal clinking as you pull it loose. His body stiffens, but he doesn’t stop sucking, not even when you move to his zipper, yanking it down in one quick, sharp movement. The fabric of his jeans parts, revealing the hard line of his cock straining against the black briefs beneath.

You press your wet fingers deeper into his mouth, pushing them to the back of his throat as you slip your other hand inside his jeans, gripping the base of his cock. The contrast of sensations makes him jolt—your fingers choking him, while the other hand wraps around him, stroking slowly.

He gags around your fingers, eyes wide as he looks up at you, and for a moment, you think he might pull away. But then he doesn’t. Instead, he adjusts, his throat contracting as he fights to keep sucking, his lips tight around your fingers as you press them deeper.

"That's it," you purr, your voice low and sultry, watching him struggle to keep up, to please you. "Take it all."

Your hand moves in rhythm with his sucking, your fingers wrapped around his cock, stroking him slowly, teasingly. He lets out a muffled moan, the sound vibrating around your fingers as his hips jerk forward slightly, desperate for more, but you keep the pace slow, torturous.

He’s trying so hard to hold onto his pride, to resist fully submitting, but you can feel the cracks widening, see the way his body reacts, how his mouth moves more eagerly over your fingers now, desperate to please. His cock twitches in your hand, and you can feel the tension building in him, the way he’s teetering on the edge of giving in completely.

You pull your fingers from his mouth with a wet pop, strings of saliva still connecting them as you smirk down at him. His lips part as he gasps for breath, his chest heaving. You use your now-wet fingers to stroke his cock, the slickness making each movement smoother, more intense.

"Look at you," you tease as you watch his hips buck into your hand, his body betraying him completely. "So fucking desperate."

Jeonghan’s eyes flutter shut for a moment, his breath coming in short, shallow bursts as he struggles to hold on, but you don’t stop. Your hand moves faster, stroking him with purpose now, your wet fingers sliding over his length.

“Open your eyes,” you command sharply, your grip tightening around him. “Look at me.”

He obeys, his eyes snapping open, wide and desperate, his lips parted as soft gasps and whimpers escape him. 

"Good boy," you murmur again, watching the way his cock twitches in response, how his breath catches in his throat. "Now, don’t stop until I tell you to."

Your hand moves faster, the slickness making each stroke more torturous. He lets out a broken moan, his hips jerking forward into your hand as his body trembles with the effort to hold back. 

"You’re gonna finish when I say," you whisper, your lips brushing against his ear as your hand moves faster, your grip tightening. “Not a second before.”

Jeonghan’s breath is ragged, his body shaking with the effort to obey.

Your grip on his cock tightens as you pull him closer, dragging him by his phallus, his body stumbling into yours with a strangled moan. His head falls onto your shoulder, his breath hot and ragged against your neck as his hand shoots out to grab your arm, desperate to steady himself—like you’re about to knock him out.

You guide him toward the bed. “Can’t even walk straight Jeonghan?”

He lets out a weak sound, something between a moan and a groan, as you push him onto the mattress, his back hitting the sheets. His eyes are glazed over, his chest rising and falling rapidly, his cock standing stiff and red, twitching. You smirk as you climb onto the bed, straddling him, your knees pressing into the mattress on either side of his hips.

You hover over him for a moment, savoring the sight of him laid out beneath you, completely at your mercy. His hands twitch as if he wants to touch you, but you pin them down with your knees, shaking your head with a wicked grin.

“Don’t even think about it,” you say. “You don’t get to touch until I say so.”

Jeonghan lets out a soft whimper, his lips parted as he struggles to control himself, his body aching for more. 

You reach down, grabbing the hem of his shirt and pulling it up, just enough to expose his chest. His skin is flushed, his nipples hard, and you let out a low chuckle as you pinch one between your fingers. He jerks beneath you, a strangled moan escaping his lips as his back arches slightly off the bed.

“Sensitive here too, hm?” you tease, giving his nipple another sharp pinch. His hips buck up into you, desperate for friction, but you press him back down with a firm hand on his chest, keeping him in place.

His breath is coming in short, shallow bursts, his cock twitching against your thigh as you tease him, dragging the moment out, savoring every second of his desperation.

Finally, you lift your hips, positioning yourself over him. You guide his cock to your entrance, lowering yourself just enough for his tip to slip inside, the stretch slow and torturous. He gasps, his hips jerking up instinctively, but you slam them back down with a firm grip on his waist.

“Don’t. Move,” you command, your voice sharp.

He bites his lip, his head falling back onto the pillow, chest heaving as you sink down onto him, inch by agonizing inch. The way he fills you completely, the feeling of him trembling beneath you as you take him in, slowly, savoring every second.

You stop halfway, smirking as you grind your hips in slow circles, teasing him with the promise of more. His eyes snap open, his lips parting in a desperate gasp as he looks up at you, pleading.

“Please,” he groans. “Please, I can’t… I need it.”

You chuckle softly, your fingers trailing down his chest, pinching his nipples again just to watch him squirm. Without warning, you slam down the rest of the way, taking him fully inside you. His mouth falls open in a silent scream, his body jerking beneath you as the pleasure hits him all at once. You bite your lip, your own breath catching as the sensation washes over you, the fullness, the stretch, the way his cock throbs inside you.

You start moving, riding him hard and fast, your hips slamming down onto his with every thrust, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. His hands shoot up to your hips, but you slap them away, pinning them above his head as you fuck him, using him for your own pleasure.

“You feel that?” you hiss, your lips brushing against his ear. “That’s what it feels like to be used.”

Jeonghan can only moan in response. You lean back, riding him harder, faster, your hands gripping his wrists, grinding down on him with every thrust, feeling the tension building inside both of you.

“Fuck,” he groans, his head tossing back, his eyes squeezing shut as he bites down on his lip, trying desperately to hold on. But you know he’s close. You can feel it.

Jeonghan’s breath hitches, his eyes fluttering open for a moment, wide and desperate, before they squeeze shut again, his body trembling violently beneath you.

You lean down, your lips brushing against his ear as you whisper, “Cum for me.”

And with that, he breaks. His body tenses, his back arching off the bed as he lets out a strangled moan, his cock twitching violently inside you as he comes, the pleasure hitting him like a freight train. You ride him through it, grinding down on him as you chase your own release.

You lean forward, your body pressing down as your clit grinds against his pelvis. Jeonghan's cock is still deep inside you, and you can feel every inch of him twitching, overstimulated and helpless beneath you. His eyes roll back, lips parted in a messy gasp, his hair splayed out on the mattress like a fallen angel. The way his face twists, dumb with pleasure, is almost enough to push you over the edge by itself. His eyebrows furrow in a compound of pain and ecstasy, and the moans slipping from his throat—whiny, breathless, and downright filthy—send a rush of heat pooling in your belly.

You can feel it building, that pressure inside you, tighter and tighter with every grind of your hips. You’re losing control too, your moans spilling out, desperate and raw, betraying the power you’ve held this whole time. It doesn’t even sound like you’re the one in control anymore. You’re chasing that release, grinding harder, faster, your slickness making it a mess between your legs, each movement slippery, loud. The wet sounds of your bodies sliding together are filthy, and the sensation of the mess you’ve made splashing against your thighs only adds to the intensity building inside you.

Jeonghan’s eyes flutter open just as you're on the edge. He looks up at you, pupils blown wide, as though he's watching a divine vision unfold in front of him. The sight of his ruined expression—those parted lips, the way his chest heaves as he tries to catch his breath—sends you crashing over the edge.

You let out a broken moan, hips jerking forward as the orgasm tears through you. Your body trembles, thighs clenching around him as you ride out every pulse of pleasure, the mess between your legs gushing onto him, soaking his skin, your breath coming in desperate gasps. You grind down on him one last time, milking every second of it as you feel his cock twitching inside you, overstimulated beyond belief.

“Fuck…” Jeonghan whimpers, his voice raw as his body jerks beneath you, unable to handle any more. His belly caves in, the muscles trembling under your relentless pressure. 

After what feels like forever, you slowly lift yourself off him, his cock slipping out with a wet sound, leaving him twitching and trembling. His body is sprawled out on the bed, his chest heaving, hair stuck to his forehead, completely undone. You stand up, your legs weak but steady enough as you smooth down your dress, the fabric hugging your curves again as if nothing happened. You fix your hair, eyes never leaving his limp, exhausted form.

Jeonghan’s gaze follows you, his breath shallow, and his face still slack from the overwhelming high. His eyes are half-lidded, but there’s a glimmer of curiosity, or maybe disbelief, flickering behind them.

"Has anyone ever dominated you like that before?" you ask casually, as if this is a normal conversation after completely ruining him.

He shakes his head, still too breathless to form words. No.

You smirk, tilting your head as you adjust the straps of your dress. “Thought so.”

You step closer to him, leaning down just enough so he can see the wicked gleam in your eyes. “Next time, maybe try not to let your guard down so easily. You’re a mess, Jeonghan.”

He blinks up at you, lips parted, still trying to process everything that just happened. You give him one last amused glance, standing tall and smoothing your dress again before turning on your heel.

“Enjoy the rest of your night,” you say with a mocking sweetness, smirking as you walk toward the door. Just before leaving, you look over your shoulder, adding, "I’ll be at the party if you ever want to lose again.”

[bunny-jpeg]

lovingly dominant

capt. john price

tags: smut/pwp, age gap (20s/30s), size difference/kink, dom/sub dynamic, bdsm au, virgin!reader, light bdsm, praise (kink)

a/n: in a surprising twist, bunny has written call of duty again!! expect more cod stuff into december when the f1 season is over and it stops eating my brain <3

john price considered himself a little old fashioned. he thought it was better to have his birdie of the week on her back and rut into her until they both finished. he had no need for whips, chains, collars, and whatever else the world of bdsm had to offer.

but after so many missions and so many years, the pollution of combat bled into his sexual desires. he craved for control, near domination of his birdie. yes, they looked cute on their backs and their soft noises. but it looked far more appealing to keep her blindfolded, second guessing what was being done to her while price's filthy words spilled across her brain like wine on a white carpet. tainting her. tainting you.

most dominants loved a trained submissive. loved that they knew the ins and outs of the dynamic, tinkering to their liking. price on the other hand had a thing for over eager virgins. ones who got all their bdsm know-how from horribly written fan fiction. he liked to teach and guide, he liked to shape his submissive into the perfect image of what could be.

and when he met you, oh, well something else came up. an unwavering possessive need. price tried to not get possessive, this was all just a little game for sexual pleasure. but when he found out his little trainee worked at a flower shop, it was all over for him. it was only doubled down when you had your first meeting at a coffee shop and you got the most delicious looking slice of strawberry shortcake.

the cream on the corner of your mouth almost made john price lose resolve. instead he covered up with a cough before you asked, "do you want some, mister price." and who was john price to deny such a lovely girl her offer. you even fed it to him, a glimmer in your eye and gentle smile.

"it's lovely, baby girl." he said before he wiped a bit of the cream off his beard which made you giggle. that giggle seared into his brain and he knew that you weren't getting with any other man.

you met at his flat a few weeks later, and you were eager. price liked that. sex was only half as fun when the person he was fucking was almost having a good time. you came over in a big sweatshirt and jeans that were a little baggy, something that covered up. it made price curious as to what was hiding underneath.

"look beautiful, birdie." he said as he guided you inside and you got your sneakers off. you looked over at him to help you through the flat. you held onto him a little nervous, the only familiar thing in the place. price held you by the middle and let you press your face up against his strong chest.

he was in a flannel with a white undershirt and jeans. you could see the gold chain around his throat and the heavy chest hair. you had seen him naked from photos shared and he had seen you naked, but to feel it up close left a shiver of excitement through you. he leaned down and kissed you on the top of your head as he led you to the bedroom.

he said, "afterwards, i'll make ya some dinner. not the best chef, but, i can cook ya somethin' to replenish the energy you spent fucking me." he then ruffled your hair, which made your heart leap and he got you onto the bed.

you nodded meekly, you looked so small. so innocent. a girl like you should be on dated with finance guys or even the artsy kind. not a weathered, older military man like him. but even things in smaller packages can be surprising, just like when you took off your clothes and revealed a matching set of bra and panties. a soft grey colour with pastel yellow accents. it made price have to adjust himself in his jeans.

"ah, pretty girl got a surprise for me. how sweet?"

you nodded, "i wanted to make tonight special. good luck for a long... dynamic between us. so, you don't get rid of me if i suck." and soon you were in price's embrace while you still sat on the bed. your cheek pressed hard against his soft but firm middle.

he petted your head a little and said, "ah, don't worry, petal. even if you do bad tonight, i got every intention of trainin' ya. make you the perfect girl." the words spoken hit right to your core and when he pulled away long enough to strip down, you felt your eyes go wide for a moment.

a photo couldn't capture every inch of john price's skin. the scars, the tattoos, the hair, the muscle, the fat. he was like a big brown bear and it made you soaked. you shifted a little in your spot on the bed and rubbed your thighs together in anticipation. it was surprising that you were still a virgin, but you always chickened out. now as an adult, you wanted to just get it over with. but, you wanted to have fun. and why not have fun with a well experienced dom who wouldn't half-ass your first time. it didn't hurt that he had the kind of looks that would make any man with half a brain jealous.

"i hope i meet expectations." he chuckled as he put his hands on his hips. his cock stood at full attention and you swallowed. there was something so masculine about him, but not in a toxic way. he played with your hair once more before he patted your cheek, "no need to gawk, petal. i'm not goin' anywhere." and you swallowed. he chuckled before he got into bed with you and slowly unwrapped you of your lingerie like delicate christmas paper.

he hadn't been this excited to upwrap something since he got the toy firetruck as a kid. but in total fairness, you were hotter than any fire red truck. his hands grazed across your body with total tenderness and his hungry blue eyes gazed the skin.

the stretch marks, the moles, your own scarring. you were beautiful in ways that price couldn't describe. to compare you to something would be unfair to the thing being compared to your beauty. he took you by the wrist and kissed the center of it.

"this is a promise, petal. for as long as you keep me as your dominant and you my submissive, i with cherish you, adore you, and most of all. make sure that you cum over and over again." before he kissed you on the lips and got you onto your back. he admired you, "usually i like to take pretty things on their hands and knees. but, tonight's gotta be special, right, doll?"

you nodded.

he tapped your nose and said, "ah, ah, ah. that won't cut it. the words are 'yes, sir', got it? would hate to bruise that little behind during our first time."

you found your voice and said, "yes, sir." and was met with a rough pat on the cheek before price pulled away to rest on his knees to fuck you with just right. you felt heat course through your body as you took in the sight of him. burly, large from top to bottom.

course dark hair on his body, a little heft in his middle (but who didn't love that), a sparkle in his blue eyes, and hands large enough to break things between the digits. he admired you in return and said softly, "pretty little petal, yeah? ah, who let ya be so beautiful?" he chuckled as he rubbed his cock up against your slick sex, "i got so much to teach ya. how to tie ya up, how to gag ya properly. mmm, we'll have so much fun." he then pulled away to grab a condom from the nightstand. he held up the silver foil to you and said, "rule one, play safe or don't play at all."

you nodded and remembered to reply, "yes, sir."

price gave you a smile that lit you up and said, "good girl." then quickly got the condom on. he admired your soaked sex for a moment longer, "she achin' for me, huh? cute." then slowly, almost agonizingly, he inched into you and felt the spread of warmth through his body.

heaven was created with your pussy in mind. price was never a quick finisher, but he almost finished inside of you when he managed to get all of himself inside of you. he kept eyes and ears open, the type of examining done in his line of work, to make sure that you weren't in too much pain.

"ya alright?"

you nodded and swallowed.

price added, "baby girl. words." and then nodded his head when you replied that everything was okay, he nodded and said, "roger that." which made you pussy clench. a smile spread across price's face as he leaned forward. he captured your hands in his and pressed them to the bed under you. he chuckled lowly, "ah, someone likes a military man? a man in uniform gets ya goin'?" he kissed your pulse point, "ah, too cute, petal. i guess seeing that on my description didn't scare ya off." he rocked against you, "know it's a crime to mess up a man's uniform."

you swallowed, "sir. fuck." and felt the strike of heat through your body. you had to admit, you had seen a few photos of him in uniform. the beret, boots and all. and it made something turn in your stomach. only added an appeal to him that made you hot.

price replied, "i guess it worked out. because i like cute little civilians who are more than eager to make me feel good. doin' your civic duty makin' me cum, baby girl." these was a tension in his voice that made you heart hammer and your throat feel tight. the bed squeaked a little under the both of you as he continued his movements. he knew he was going to have an amazing time with you.

you whined, "please, sir."

"tell me. tell me what ya like about it? what gets my baby girl goin'? i gotta know, because maybe i can get somethin' together that'll rock your world." his words were hot and your cunt fluttered around his achy, hard cock. for a moment he was uncertain if you were actually a virgin, you took him so well.

you moaned when you felt a spark of pleasure in your core, your entire life had just been your hands and an assortment of toys. but to have price work your body beautifully was something else. you replied sweetly, "i... i want to thigh ride you in uniform." you felt a flush of embarrassment.

he chuckled, "oh that would be quite the sight, huh?" he continued to move against you beautifully, "i bet that i could make ya cum just from my thighs. rub your cunt all over it, messin' up the fabric. higher-ups will be wonderin' about the pussy stains all over the fabric. maybe if i'm lucky i'll get some of your wetness in my beard. let 'em smell you on me." and well, that excited you deeply.

you arched your back a little bit, but price kept you pinned perfectly under him. you tightened your thighs around him and he continued to work your body. it wasn't rough sex, but it also wasn't boringly soft either. he worked you at a steady pace, like a man with immense stamina. he eyed the bounce of your breasts and he moved against you.

he licked his lips at the sight of you, "baby girl." he purred, "you're a dirty girl. but don't worry." he soon held onto your wrists instead of your hands, a further act of domination, "i like 'em dirty. i like girls i can sink my teeth into. soon enough you won't be able to cum unless it's my fingers, tongue or cock in you. ya got the kind of soft skin that would bruise perfectly. but be careful, petal, i can be quite mean with a paddle." and it was met with a heavy moan. music to his ears.

you had never been spoken to like this before, but it excited you. you wanted to be price's dirty girl any day of the week. you felt excitement cross over you as he picked up the pace. the two of you fucked heavily and it left a taste of want in your mouth. this was better than anything you hoped for. it wasn't just that price checked boxes on a superficial level, he knew exactly how to make you squirm and moan. heavy noises came from your mouth as he worked your achy cunt, you felt amazing.

"ya like knowin' that i'm your first. big, scary captain makin' a mess of the sweetest cunt in the world. knowin' in a way, i got ya for life." he licked his lips. he liked that you were pure in that way, call him old fashioned. but knowing that he got to have you first was sort of like getting the first slice of cake at a party. something he wished to sweetly devour. and with you it was with heavy thrusts and filthy words. taint you to his liking.

you whined as you clenched your fists, you tensed up and he loved the feeling. he could almost read your mind with how sweet you felt. he could nearly feel your heartbeat as he fucked you. he loved the sight of you, you looked damn near perfect under him. you said between heavy pants, "please, sir. fuck, please!"

"feel good, petal? like how i take you." he moved against you further and it left him feeling the anticipation for climax. he continued to fuck your sweet body, working every last centimeter of warm skin, "remember, ya gotta ask me to cum."

his movements were overwhelming, his pace left you feeling breathless. and in your first lesson of intimacy, you croaked out, "can i cum, sir? please, i need to cum."

and price could be a giving man. he looked down at you, haze in those blue eyes as he said, "of course, baby girl. cum for me, cum for your captain." and swore under his breath as you beautifully came apart for him. he held onto your wrists tighter and groaned. it paired nicely with your sweet little moans.

"sir! fuck!" you gasped as you clenched around him. you finished and it only prompted him to move faster while you laid in such a blissed out state. no one had made you finish like that, not even your own nimble digits.

but price was just that good.

the bed creaked further and the headboard hit against the beige wall of the bedroom. he fucked you faster and made sure to cram every inch inside of you. with a few more heavy strokes, he finished into of you with a heavy groan. he fucked you through his climax before he slowed to a stop.

he wiped the sweat from his forehead and exhaled deeply, "beauty, beauty. where has the world been hidin' ya from me." he chuckled as he kissed you on the lips. you melted against him and moaned.

when he pulled out, he got up with a creak in his hip to throw out the condom before he was back in bed with you. you were both naked under the covers as price traced your form with his calloused fingers. the roughness on your soft skin made you shiver.

"how about it, lovie." he said in that low, gruff tone of his. his hand grazed across your side and behind, "how about i invite the boys over and their little birdies and we can have a little playdate. introduce you to the group."

you swallowed, "play... date?"

price pulled you closer. he held onto you the way someone would hold a stuffed animal. he smiled at you, "don't worry, petal. no one's gettin' their hands on ya. not while i'm still breathin'." his voice was tinged with a possessiveness. you nodded in response and he added, "besides, i know i'll make the boys nice and jealous with you." he chuckled, "my beautiful baby girl." then kissed you on the lips.

you could only imagine what would happen at a playdate with price's friends and their submissives. it also didn't help that it made you a little excited as well. <3

[kaisturni]

pillow princess | c.sturniolo

→ chris x fem!reader

→ plot; traveling with the triplets, y/n usually shares the room with nick. in a sudden change of plans, she ends up sharing the room with chris. with the unexpected presence of one bed for the two to share, tension arises through the night when only inches separate them.

→ warnings; SHMUTTT, dom!chris, swearing, fingering, grinding, unprotected sex, cum eating, hair pulling, creampie, use of nicknames

→ a/n; this one has so much build up i didn’t even realize so sorry 😛 thank you to everyone who voted, hope you guys love it!

NOT PROOFREAD (sorry)

——————————————————————————

“that flight was terrible,” i groaned, the boys all nodding in agreement, everyone stretching their limbs every which way.

“honestly i just can’t wait to get to the hotel, anyway, i call sharing a room with matt,” nick says, as the four of us wait for your check bags to arrive.

“what! why?” i shoot a confused look at him, since nick and i are always the pair to share a room together, hell we have so many sleepovers, even sharing a bed isn’t a problem.

“because you fuckin snore, y/n,” nick states bluntly, i feel my face falling into offense.

“no i don’t!” “yes you do,” the three say in unison. i always hated when they did that. it’s creepy. but i’m confused at this sudden accusation, because nick has NEVER brought up anything about me snoring before.

i say my thoughts out loud “what are you talking about? even if i did, you sleep like a rock!” i retort.

“tonight is just NOT that night, besides we have to be up all day tomorrow to vlog AND film with sam and colby. besides, chris doesn’t mind your snoring anyway,” nick argues, chris shoots a cheesy smile and a thumbs up at me, i roll my eyes at the both of them realizing this is a losing battle.

“okay, whatever. just don’t keep me up all night,” i point a finger sharply at chris, since he’s always up until the break of dawn and even then has more energy than ive seen anyone have in the morning.

“noted.”

at least we’re not sharing a bed- i think to myself. not that it would necessarily be a problem, but for some reason he always made me so nervous. i dont want to admit it’s a crush, and i dont think sharing a bed with him would help with the aching nerves i get being around him. the thought of the circumstance makes me shudder. best just not to think about it.

✧ : *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ : *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ : *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ : *✧･ﾟ:* ✧

we all go to nick and matt’s room first, just to film some of the vlog. we all explore the room, opening every drawer and examining the snacks on the tv stand, and i admire how plush and soft the bedding is. at least i’ll sleep good on this tonight. chris seems to have the same idea as me, gripping on to the top part of one of the beds where it meets the headboard. i can’t help the thought of him doing the same thing but me beneath his body; the idea of it makes me squirm. i shake away the image as my ears tune back in to the conversations going on.

“that’s a really cool… deck!” chris exclaims,

“that’s a REALLY COOL DECK,” nick mocks him, eliciting giggles from both me and matt, and i almost forget for a second that this isn’t the room i’m staying in, and i try to keep the conversation going as long as possible.

after about 15 minutes of filming, matt hands the camera to nick, giving the outro for the evening.

“goodnight everyone, we’ll see you guys tomorrow when we go explore austin,” nick says to the camera, then shutting it off.

after our own collective goodnights, chris and i making our way down to our own space. i’m so exhausted i can’t even hear myself think. my eyes linger down the dim hallway to matt and nick’s room. i’m honestly still a bit bitter about the whole room situation, i make a mental note to scare the shit out nick at some point during filming with sam and colby to get back at him.

i unconsciously smile at the idea of it, not noticing chris looking back at me,

“what are you smiling about?” he says with a little giggle, i reconnect my brain to my actions, eyes widening at what he could be thinking about me stupidly smiling as he keys us in to the room,

“nothing, just thought of something funny earlier. it was a pretty cool deck,,,” i say in a sing- song voice mocking him, he rolls his eyes “yeah whatever, it wasn’t that funny,” he states, i do a mental cheer to myself that he didn’t catch on to me trying to unconditionally hide where my mind was going to after he said those words; to be fair i WASN’T smiling at the thought of us sharing a room, but considering how i had been acting about the whole thing, i’m not exactly sure how convincing my explanation was.

the door opens and he flicks on the lights, after my eyes adjust, both of us are met with a singular king bed, identical headboard facing the city of austin, i can see my eyes widen in the reflection of the window in front of us.

i feel my cheeks turn hot, and i can see chris out of the corner of my eye glancing at me, also keeping himself silent amidst our little… situation.

he breaks the awkward silence in the room by clearing his throat,

“gummy bears,” he starts, placing his bag on the plush white chair in the corner of the room, while i throw mind mindlessly on the floor trying my best not to think about the current situation

“i’ll be eating these tonight,”

“woah for free?” i say grabbing the bag from him, also making an effort to cut the awkwardness somehow still lingering in the air.

“no definitely for purchase,” he says walking around the room, “oh,” I throw the bag down, now uninterested in the snacks in front of me.

“what side do you like?” he asks, making himself comfortable right in the middle, arms stretched out on both sides, giving me a crooked smile.

cute.

“i prefer the left. but whatever side is fine,” i proclaim, doing my best to seem indifferent and not give him the impression that i’m going to be a pain to sleep with.

not like that, of course.

“good answer, i sleep on the right,” his smile doesn’t break as hops off the bed and rifles through his duffel bag,

“i’m gonna take a quick shower, won’t be long. put something on for us to watch,” i nod, and he disappears into the bathroom.

time passes as i’m left alone flicking through channels, eventually settling on a random movie i’m sure neither of us have seen before, this will do. i decide to find some pajamas of my own.

of course, my fucking luck and to my horror, i come up empty on a sleep bra AND shorts. i cant help but physically face palm myself at my lack of planning, but forgive me, i was anticipating on only nick seeing me in a lack of clothing.

i peel off the safety of the clothing i have on, and slip in to a separate thong and a t-shirt that is just barely covering my ass.

i’m so fucking stupid.

suddenly, the water shuts off and i race with myself to get back into my side of the bed to avoid chris seeing me and my shift in wardrobe.

he emerges from the bathroom, and i steal a glance at him, standing there with wet curls and his upper half still slick, highlighting all the muscles visible on his body.

the sight of him makes me heat up just to look at, and i cross my legs tightly to hopefully get rid of the aching between them, and flip my body around to face away, unaware to the fact that my ass is on display to him.

“no, no pants, huh?” i hear him let out a shaky breath from the other side of me, feeling my cheeks grow hot again, i make my best attempt to pull my shirt down and face him, beginning my ranted explanation.

“no yeah sorry i-i just was expecting to sleep with nick, this is what i usually wear i’m sor-“

he cuts off my rambling with a laugh,

“you’re fine, it just took me by surprise, that’s all. but you should probably move over, i think we should both go to sleep in a little,” he suggests, i can tell he’s being careful to not fully raise the covers, in order to avoid the exposure on my end.

i almost feel relief that he doesn’t care, but part of me wants him to care. to see him get hot and bothered by seeing me like that. but thankfully, yet unthankfully, this is a purely platonic sleeping arrangement.

“yeah, yeah you’re right,” i let out half heartedly, letting my eyes travel back to the scene on the tv, but i can’t help but peer out of the corner of my eye and notice how good he looks.

fuck.

his jaw tight in seeming concentration of the nonsense in front of us, hair messy from his shower, his chest slowly rising up down and rhythm and i almost let my eyes wander down his body to the waistband of his pants or even lower, but i don’t dare to allow myself the chance.

✧ : *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ : *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ : *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ : *✧･ﾟ:* ✧

my eyes shoot awake, and i prop my arms up to look at the clock a few feet away,

3:24am.

the tv is shut off, and chris is calmly sleeping beside me. i guess i had unknowingly fallen asleep at some point during the movie. i sigh and rub my face, beginning to make my attempt to fall back asleep again. suddenly, there’s a shift in the bed and i feel an arm snake across my hip and pull me closer.

i gasp and freeze at the contact, not daring to make a move. i feel chris’ hands squeeze at my hips, and a barely audible groan escapes his lips. my breath starts to pick up when i feel him harden against my ass.

i don’t know if i can take this. he isn’t even awake right now. he doesn’t know what he’s doing.

i quickly turn to face him,

“chris!” i whisper yell and shake his shoulder, with his hand still holding on to my nearly bare hip.

as he comes to consciousness, he deeply inhales and lets his eyes adjust to the darkness. realization hits him when he quickly removes his hand from me and darts up into a seated position. i can almost see him blushing despite the dark haze around us, the same feeling creeping upon myself for the nth time tonight as we sit in silence, which is quickly broken by his voice.

“shit, y/n, i-i’m sorry,” he begins, “i was just dreaming and, and i didn’t realize what i was doing I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” he explains. my brows furrow slightly as i realize the context of his words.

“what was the dream?” i ask, my own curiosity getting the best of me, but the confidence in knowing he was most likely having some sort of sex dream about me makes the lustful side of myself take over.

his head tips back, i can tell he’s contemplating his next words.

“you. y/n. us. right now. i always thought you were pretty, but you looked so fucking hot earlier, like you’re literally half naked in the same bed as me. truthfully I’ve had feelings for you, and seeing you like that… it just made me want to fuck you,”

the last part of his statement is just barely above hearing level, and i’m honestly shocked at his confession. i didn’t think this would ever happen, that chris would ever see me in that way, but i got over that quickly.

i don’t know what came over me, but my actions and words only grew in seduction, and i was now determined to break him.

“sorry, i didn’t hear you, you wanted to what?” i crawl over and sit myself on his lap, placing my hands on his bare chest, and i feel his breathing and heart speed up.

“i want to fuck you, y/n,” he says in a single breath, and i take it as a sign to crash my lips into his.

the kiss is deep and sensual, his hands snaking down to my ass and squeezing, causing me to groan, and in response i grind myself onto him, feeling his dick grow hard beneath me.

the lack of material between us causes the wetness between my legs begins to rise quickly, and chris takes no time to comment on the state of my arousal.

“fuck y/n, i can already feel how wet you are,” he says between sloppy kisses, and one of his hands slaps my ass hard, the other gripping for dear life.

i gasp at his action, and his tongue fully enters my mouth, and i don’t bother trying to fight for dominance. all this new contact with him is already making me feel buzzed.

he flips us around so my back hits the bed, and i look up at him as he grips the headboard, our lips reconnecting in a matter of no time.

his hand gently tugs at my shirt, signaling he wants it off, and i inwardly smirk to myself knowing there’s nothing between my shirt and my bare body.

i swiftly remove it off my body, and even in the dim light he can see my chest, i purposefully squeeze them together causing him to bite his lip and move down to claim a nipple in his mouth.

i moan at the contact, he sucks hard at the sensitive bud, other hand snaking down to my panties, which i’m sure are now thoroughly soaked.

as if he read my mind, his fingers easily glide between my folds, and i whimper at the feeling.

“you’re so fucking wet—all for me, yeah?” he says lowly, those words coming out of his raise even more arousal in me, and the only thing i can do is nod and moan in response as he rubs my clit with his wet fingers.

he moves my black thong to the side, and i bite my lip in anticipation for his fingers to enter me, and he slowly inserts two, causing both of us to moan in harmony.

his lips rejoin mine, but the fast pumping of his long fingers inside me make it difficult to kiss him back.

i feel the knot building up in my stomach and i know an orgasm is approaching fast.

“c-chris, i’m gonna cum,” i breath out, shocked that i’m withering under my one of my best friend’s touch.

he hums at first, his pace slowly picking up, “cum for me pretty girl,” he purrs in my ear, i pant feeling the build up in my sensitive nerves release, him continuing to pump as i ride my high through his fingers, now covered in my own cum.

he brings his soaked fingers to his mouth, licking my juices off of his fingers,

“you taste so fucking good y/n,” he bring his hand down back to my folds, and i wince at the contact.

“suck,” he demands, bringing his fingers to my mouth, and i look him dead in the eye as my tongue swirls around his digits.

the eye contact pierced through me, and i let go of the grasp i have on his fingers with a pop, his lashes fluttering at the sound. chris’ lips meet mine again, and i hardly notice him removing his plaid pants, palming himself through his underwear and groaning into my mouth.

“is this okay? do you want to do this?” he asks, rubbing sweet circles on my inner thigh. how could i say no to him? we’re way beyond that.

i nod in affirmation, “more than okay, i want you, chris,”

chris smiles and swiftly pulls me to the edge of the bed, peeling away his last layer of clothing. his erection springs up, and i take a deep breath at just the sight of his size, tip leaking precum.

i instinctively spread my legs further for him, and he pumps himself a few times before aligning with my core, wetting himself between my folds.

he slowly pushes himself into me, and the sting of his size makes me hiss,

“i’ll go slow okay?”

i nod and close my eyes, and his forehead press against mine, pushing his dick further. i feel our hips meet and he pulls out almost all the way, before slamming into me.

fuck going slow.

i can’t control the loud moan that crawls from my lips, one from chris, “fuck,” follows soon after. his pace picks up; wet noises, skin slapping, and loud moans are the only sounds that fill the room.

he pulls himself out, and i prop myself on my elbows and give him a confused look,

“turn around,” chris grows, and i do without retaliation, sticking my ass far up in the air with my chest pressed against the mattress.

he wastes no time inserting himself back into me, going to his rhythm once again.

chris grips my hips so hard im sure they’ll be a purple hue in the morning, but that’s at the least of my concerns right now.

“god, you feel so good. you like bein a pillow princess, don’t you?” he huffs, continuously bringing our hips to meet at a pace faster than i think i can breathe.

the only way i can respond is through a muffled groan into the bunched up sheets, holding on as hard as i can.

he grabs my hair into a makeshift ponytail and pulls my head up,

“answer me. you like it, no- you love it, don’t you?”

“yes, i fucking love it chris!” i say as i gasp for oxygen, and he shoves my face back into the pillow, spewing praises and profanities into the air.

“i-i’m close baby, where should i cum? “chris says, his strokes becoming sloppier by the second, and i feel him twitch inside me, causing myself to clench around him.

“me too, shit, i-inside me, cum inside me,” i breath, way beyond fucked out to realize the consequences of those words.

with one last stroke, he releases inside me, and i feel myself become warm inside, both from him and my own cum painting his dick.

we simultaneously pant as he pulls out, and i flip myself over, feeling completely drunk off fucking him.

his body crashes down next to me, delivering sweet kisses to my face and lips, unlike his previous animalistic behavior just a few seconds ago.

“are you okay? how was that? did i hurt you?” he questions through pants, i giggle at the change in demeanor.

“i’m okay, it was perfect, and no you didn’t. i loved it, chris.” i say, running my hands gently through is slightly wet hair, some strands sticking to his forehead from the sex-sweat build up.

“i want to keep doing this,” chris starts

“me too-“

“but i want to be more,” the words leave his lips quickly, and his eyes focus between mine, analyzing my face, searching for a response.

“me too,” i state again, “but what are we going to tell nick? matt?” the idea of telling them didn’t cross my mind, but the anxiety of having to face them about that makes my heart race.

“we can keep it to ourselves— for right now,” the octave of his voice raising slightly at the end, posing his proposition almost as a question.

i smile and place a gentle kiss on his lips, “we can do that, but not for too long, okay,” i say after pulling away.

chris smiles warmly at me, “okay, but we should really go back to sleep. it’s 5:30,”

i almost get whiplash turning my head to look at the clock so fast, and i widen my eyes at how much time has passed.

“good idea,” i reply, shakily crawling back under the covers.

“you’re sleeping naked?” he questions.

“yes, is that a problem? you coming back here or not?” i raise my eyebrows at him,

chris shakes his head; “not at all, come lay on me,” he makes his way to his side and opens his arms for me, and i inch my way over into his warm grasp.

chris places a soft kiss on my forehead, and i can feel myself slowly drifting into sleep. i don’t think im going to scare the shit out of nick, my mind thinking of my previous vendetta against him; little does he know he did me a huge favor.

[bucky-barnes-diaries]

His Empire of Desire

Pairing || Mob!Bucky x Wife!Reader

Summary || After a gruelling day with maintaining his criminal empire, Bucky returns home to you, seeking comfort and passion in your touch and words.

World Count || 3016

Contents & Warnings || Fluff, Smut — NSFW, 18+ Only, Minors DNI, mob/mafia business, mention of violence/torture/murder, explicit content/language, pet names, unprotected vaginal sex, oral (male receiving), degradation & praise kink, use of the word whore, dom/sub dynamics, teasing, begging, face/throat fucking, gagging/choking, fingering, spanking, rough fucking, creampie, mention of bodily fluids.

Authors Note || It’s been a whiiiiile… Hopefully I’m back for good now. But anyways, this is a WIP that I started at the beginning of 2023 and I finally finished a few days ago. Enjoy, and I will be back with more fics soon. But I’ll be taking my time and not rushing/stressing myself with it. I want to have fun and write again, but I won’t force it when I don’t have energy so there won’t be weekly fics most likely.

Disclaimer || English is not my first language so I apologise for any mistakes or misunderstandings!

Mob!Bucky Masterlist

I don’t do taglists anymore so please follow @bucky-barnes-diaries-library and turn on notifications to never miss out on my writing!

Once the sun had dipped below the horizon, casting shadows over the city’s towering buildings, Bucky made his way home after another demanding day maintaining his criminal empire. The day, much like the others, had been a grueling mix of meetings, negotiations, and the unsettling business of violence that defined Bucky’s world of organized crime. Accustomed to the daily occurrences of bloodshed, torture, and death, even the strongest individuals, like Bucky, had their moments when frustration and weariness weighed heavily on his broad shoulders. All Bucky craved was solace and comfort in the embrace of his wife’s warmth and love, concluding the night with the pleasure of burying himself deep within her. That singular thought occupied his mind as he sat in the backseat of the Rolls, heading towards the penthouse that overlooked the city—his sanctuary, his kingdom, and you, his Queen.

“Have a good evening, Sir,” Bucky’s chauffeur nodded firmly in the rearview mirror, receiving an equal parting nod as Bucky stepped out of the car.

As Bucky ascended the private elevator, his fingers itched intensely for your presence, yearning to wash away the day’s cruelty with your loving touch and mend his wounds with your caring words. The ascent to his and your floor, typically swift, felt like an eternity. Leaning his forehead against the mirrored elevator walls, hands clenched on each side of his head, he muttered to himself, “Come on, come on. Hurry the fuck up. I fucking need her.”

Finally, on the top floor, the elevator pinged and opened, revealing the vast penthouse. Bucky swiftly departed, entering the one place where he truly felt safe and at home. The familiar scent of your shared home immediately calmed him, normality easing his frustrations. As he entered the spacious living room, soft music filled the space, accompanied by the sound of your bare footsteps drawing closer. It was everything he had longed for after his gruelling day.

The ache he felt for you gradually faded as you approached. Clad in a silk robe, your captivating form moved with confidence, the curves of your body dancing beneath the expensive material. Your face, bare and glowing, reflected the wear and tear of your own long day.

Though Bucky adored when you were all primed and dolled up, there was an ethereal quality about you when stripped down to your natural beauty that captivated him even more.

He released a deep, heavy breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding in, eyes closing briefly in bliss at the anticipation of you finally being beside him.

“Bucky,” you murmured as you stood before him, assessing him with a hint of worry. His shoulders sagged under the weight of the day, his eyes pleading. You understood immediately—he needed you now more than ever. Sensing his need for your presence and words, you prepared to offer the comfort he sought.

“Baby, you look exhausted,” you murmured, pressing yourself against him, cupping the back of his skull with your hands, thumbs softly grazing his earlobes. Your shimmery eyes met his weary gaze.

He groaned quietly as he leaned his forehead against yours. His fingers spread across the silky material on your hips, pulling you closer, needing the reassurance of your body. “Doll, I fucking need you,” he groaned, pushing his fingers harder into your covered flesh. “Now more than ever, baby.” His plea blended fiery lust with loving need.

“Come on,” you mumbled, laying a feather-light kiss on his lips, soft fingers laced with his calloused ones. “I know just what you need,” you purred, promising to provide whatever he needed—whether it be a loving cuddle and kisses or an intense physical connection, to bend you over and fuck your body and mind senseless. You were his.

You guided him through the dark hall to the luxurious en-suite, where the spacious marble shower awaited. Turning on the cascading stream of warm water, you beckoned him to come closer and let you take his stress away.

“Let me take your stress away, baby,” you purred, approaching him once again. Bucky watched your movements intently, the weariness in his eyes transforming into a look of pure lust and the longing for the gentle care only his wife could provide.

With your hands at the lapels of his suit jacket, you pulled it away from his firm body, letting it fall to the floor. Slowly, while never breaking your gaze from his fiery eyes, you unbuttoned each button with precise movements, pushing the fabric of his muscular torso. Your eyes roamed over his chiseled physique as your hands lay flat on his pecs, adorned with specs of hair. Your palms moved down the planes of his firm muscles, making him moan at your gentle touch. Unbuttoning his suit pants, you pulled them down along with his underwear, leaving him standing naked before you.

Unfastening the sash of your silk robe, you let it drop, standing completely naked before him. Taking his hand in yours, you led him into the steaming shower, the warm mist enveloping you both.

Bucky stood under the shower head, letting the water soak him from head to toe, washing away the burdens of the day. You joined him, placing your palms on his chest with a gentle touch as you stood flush against him—your bodies melded together by the water. His hardening cock pressed against your abdomen. He dropped his gaze to your burning eyes that mirrored his own, before trailing them over your naked and wet body, intensifying the heat.

With a groan, he knotted his fingers in your hair, the other wrapping around your waist. Your arms curled underneath his, placing your palms on his muscular back. Your pulse quickened with excitement, knowing where the evening was headed. All that was needed was your encouragement for Bucky to take it in the direction he desired.

“I’m yours, Bucky. Take what you need. Take me. Love me. Use me. Do whatever you need and desire right now. My body and mind are yours.”

He leaned down, capturing your lips with his, claiming and owning your mouth. His sweet and tender kisses quickly escalated into firm and needy ones. The tip of his tongue swept your bottom lip, pleading for your taste. As your tongues met, his fingers tightened in your hair, and his hand slapped the apple of your ass, followed by a firm squeeze. You whined into his mouth, pushing your body into his wet and slippery one, surrendering yourself.

Your hand wrapped around his firm cock in a tight squeeze, jerking his length in deep and slow motions while your tongue continued to dance with his. Bucky pulled away with your bottom lip between his teeth, groaning against your puffy lips as he slowly fucked himself into your grip.

“Tell me what you need, baby,” you purred against his lips, flicking the tip of your tongue across his bottom lip. “I’m all yours.”

“Get on your knees, baby,” he growled. “Suck my cock like the whore I know you are for it.” His hand came up to wrap around your throat, applying just enough pressure to make your pussy throb without suffocating you. “I’ll make you cry and choke on it while I fuck your mouth, use that tight throat.” A moan of need escaped at his filthy words. You loved being his adoring wife and his dirty whore. His lips curled in a satisfied smile at the duality you embodied—Whore and Queen.

He let you go, and without hesitation, you pressed sloppy kisses to his chest. Fingers traced the dips and planes of his chiseled physique as you continued kissing and licking down his body—his abs, his defined v-line—until you were lowered on your knees before him, mouth agape as you stared at him through your lashes. The water from the shower head above made his body gleam, intensifying the irresistible appeal of him towering over you. His cock stood fully erect, practically begging for attention, begging to be sucked. A shiver ran through your body, and a whimper escaped your lips as your pussy throbbed, eager for the same treatment your throat would soon receive—getting fucked and bruised.

Aroused with anticipation, your body practically shaking, you grasped him firmly in your hand as your tongue traced the protruding veins along his shaft, licking up to his bulbous head. Kissing and sucking the tip, you moaned at the taste of him. With no patience left, Bucky grabbed a fistful of your hair, forcing you to release him from your mouth. His hot gaze met yours as a stinging yet delicious tug prompted a sharp gasp from your lips as tears welled in your eyes—the first of many for the evening.

“Don’t tease me, doll. I’ve had enough of being undermined today,” he groaned, his voice laced with cruel warning. “Now suck it like the pretty little whore I know you are for it.”

“Yes, Sir. I’ll be your good little whore.”

Obediently complying, you engulfed his length as Bucky’s guttural groan vibrated off the shower walls. Your choice of words, and taking him all with no hesitation, only fueled his burning desire.

You took him deep, inch by thick inch until all of him nestled in your throat. Tears ran down your already wet cheeks, and the sensation of your lips wrapped around him and your throat suffocating his cock with your choked coughs made Bucky tip his head back in bliss. Moaning thickly, he pushed his hips forward into your compliant mouth.

Withdrawing to catch your breath, a thick string of saliva trailed from your lips to his tip. A testament to your eagerness to please the man above you.

“So gorgeous,” Bucky smirked, looking down at you with tears and saliva running down your chin. “Such an eager whore to please me,” he murmured, brushing his thumb across your lips.

With no further hesitations, you wrapped your hand tightly around the base to jerk him off, while your mouth engulfed his swollen and leaking tip. Your hand and mouth worked in perfect sync—jerking him with force and delicious pressure while your head bobbed on his cock, slurping and sucking. Bucky’s hips met your movements, making you choke and gag by his rough thrusts. Your other hand squeezed and kneaded his firm ass cheek, pulling him closer and anchoring yourself to him as you sucked him off.

Bucky’s vocalization became a hot and heavy symphony of moans, groans, and every guttural sound in between—a testament to you working him thoroughly with your hands and mouth.

His hips jerked, his muscles tensing, on the verge of climax, and spilling into your mouth, and you wanted nothing more than a taste of him. But he pulled you off before he could finish down your throat, making you wheeze and chest heave to catch your breath after he released you.

Reading the disappointment on your face, he brushed your tear and water-stained cheeks and swollen lips, a smirk playing on his own. “Don’t worry, doll. I’ll come down your throat next time.” His voice was low and sultry, laced with delicious promise. “I need to feel your tight cunt wrapped around me, now.”

Helping you up, he met your lips in a sloppy kiss, slapping your ass with a force that made you gasp before turning you around and directing you to bend over for him on the marble bench.

You bent over, placing your forearms on the cold stone, presenting your ass for him. The view of both your tight holes a tantalizing sight for him.

During the blowjob, your pussy had throbbed with need, eager for the same treatment as your throat, and you had never felt as frustrated as you had now, waiting for his cock. Looking over your shoulder at Bucky, his fist jerking his cock as his hot and burning gaze trailed over your dripping cunt, which he would fill and come deep inside.

“Please, Bucky,” you cried. “I need you cock so bad.” Your voice thick with desperate desire to be fucked and used by him. “Please, please, fuck me. Use me. Use my cunt.” You knew after the day he had that the fuck would be brutal, and you would love nothing more. You loved his gentle and caring nature that he reserved only for you, but you also loved to be used and fucked like a whore by him. The duality of his two sides only makes you love him deeper with each passing day.

He chuckled, relishing the power he held over you, the absolute desperation in your pleading voice and submissive body. “Patience, doll,” he replied with a low growl. “I’ve had a rough day, and I will take my time with you.”

He firmly kneads your ass in his palms, rough hands grabbing and squeezing the flesh before delivering a sharp slap that sends a jolt of pleasurable pain up your spine. Your toes curl, and a whimper escapes your parted lips as the cruel laughter from Bucky fills the space. Despite the sobs and cries during the next two spanks, your pussy grows wetter at his cruelty, soaking your inner thighs.

Bucky curses under his breath, running two fingers through your messy folds, circling your needy clit in teasing strokes. A breath of relief escapes you at finally being stimulated, even though it’s not at the satisfaction you crave. He groans as he pushes two fingers inside your wet cunt, fucking it in slow strokes, making your breath shake at the stretch.

“What made you this wet, doll? Sucking and choking on my cock, or me spanking and bruising your ass?”

“B-both,” you reply with a shaky voice.

“That’s my good whore,” he growls, softly patting your ass where his brutal hands landed.

With the head of his cock, he teases your bundle of nerves, before slowly and oh-so-deliciously pushing his length inside your welcoming cunt. You moan and whine through your swollen and parted lips as he stretches you out to accommodate his size. “Fuck, so tight, baby.”

He forces the rest of his length balls deep, making you gasp, while he moans, at stuffing you completely. “Ah, fuck… so big,” you whine, closing your eyes and fists tightly, adjusting to him.

With a low, throaty chuckle in response to your reaction, Bucky gives you a moment before setting his rhythm, hands firmly gripping your soft hips, fingers digging into your skin.

He holds nothing back as he unleashes himself, intensifying the brutal pace, thrusting deeply into your pussy like his existence depends on it. The tip of his swollen cock repeatedly brushes against your sweet spot, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your nerves, eliciting soft whimpers from your lips.

“So good for me, doll. Such a tight, pretty pussy,” he grunts, lost in the sensation of your cunt and the pleasure it brings him.

You tilt your head to meet his burning gaze, the fiery passion in his eyes searing your exposed and submitted body before him.

“Fuck, it’s all yours, baby. All of me. Only for you,” you whimper, the soft symphony of your gentle whispers and moans enticing Bucky closer to the edge, fucking you roughly and chasing his high. “Keep using it, baby. Claim me. Take what you want,” you urge, your words a breathless plea for him to keep unleashing his pent-up anger and frustrations on your eager and pleading cunt.

As you ascend to pleasurable heights, your impending orgasm closing in swiftly, the clenching of your walls around his pulsating cock signals his pending release as well. His hand slides around your throat, lifting you upright amidst his primal thrusts.

“Are you gonna come for me, baby? Come on my cock as I fill your greedy cunt?” His gruff voice sends a shiver down your spine.

The searing pleasure, coupled with the firm grip on your throat, leaves you with no choice but to nod, conveying that you are close to an eruption with an earth-shattering explosion.

“Open that pretty mouth for me and use your words, doll.” A sharp slap to your thigh jolts you out of the haze, prompting you to gather yourself and respond to his demand.

“Yes,” you managed to gasp. “I’m gonna come. I need you to come inside me, baby,” you cry, craving his warmth like a good whore.

With those pleading words, Bucky surges over the edge. His grunts and moans resonating against your skin as he fills you up with his cum. The sensation of him pulsing and filling within you and the rhythmic movement of his hips have you tumbling over the edge. Waves of your release ripple through your body, shaking and convulsing, your cries of pleasure echoing off the tiled walls.

“Good girl,” Bucky moaned against your skin. His fingers skillfully play with your engorged clit to heighten the downfall of your orgasm. “You take my cock and cum so well.” He continued to fuck and talk you through it, ensuring that your mind and body were consumed with nothing but pleasure and him.

The shared climax left you both suspended in the aftermath of your intense fucking. The air thick with echoes of your breathless satisfaction.

“Hmm, my good girl,” Bucky muttered, withdrawing from your used cunt and turning you around. The warm water of the shower continued to rain down on you both, washing away the shared evidence of your intense and passionate lovemaking.

Bucky cupped your cheeks, brushing his thumbs across the skin beneath your eyes. His hands, which held your body with force only moments ago, now cradled your face as if you were the most delicate of artworks, which to him, you were more than a masterpiece. He captured your lips, kissing you with a mix of passion and need. Your arms held his waist, bringing his slick body closer to yours.

“Let’s get out and dry off, doll. I need to bury my face in that pretty cunt of yours before I hold you in my arms and express how much you mean to me for the rest of the night.”

Thank you for reading 🖤 Feedback through a comment is highly appreciated! Or let me know through an anonymous ask if that feels more comfortable. As well as a reblog to share my work with other people!

[ghoulphile]

wish you'd make me cry | c.h./the ghoul

➥ pairing | cooper howard/the ghoul x f!reader ➥ word count | 2.3k ➥ warning(s) | 🔞 smut; rough, dom!cooper, frottage, sitting missionary, dirty talk, degradation kink, pet names, teasing, dacryphilia, bareback, drug/chem use (jet), shotgunning, high sex ➥ summary | "You’re such a needy fucking brat." :3c ➥ notes | drabble (that's no longer a drabble lol) request for @tearueful, thank you bby!! this one really got away from me... i had to stop myself from writing lol. un-beta'd atm. masterlist | feel free to send in thots, questions, requests! | feedback is always appreciated ❤️

Setting up camp for the night in an abandoned warehouse, you and Cooper wait out a radstorm that blows in off the horizon. Because while he loves sitting outside with a smoke, soaking in the rads until he’s buzzing with frenetic energy, you don’t feel like hunting down RadAway tomorrow.

It’s quiet apart from the distant sound of super mutants and ferals roaming the city, the sporadic roar of thunder, and rain tinging off the sheet metal roof. There’s still hours left until daylight, and it doesn’t seem like the volatile weather will break soon.

Unfortunately, you’ve read all the Grognak comics you could get your grubby hands on three times over, and there’s not much else to pass the time besides scuff your boot along the concrete floor, and pluck at a stray thread hanging off your tattered sleeping bag.

Meanwhile, Cooper lounges on his side, unbothered. His hand - bare for once - props up his head, the unscarred skin of a commandeered digit stark against angry rad burns and ropey scars. Between the knuckles of his other hand, he rolls a vial of chem over and over in a mesmerizing flick of deft fingers.

A lantern sputters between you as the old battery struggles to keep it lit. Its jaundiced glow banishes the thick darkness; a fuzzy halo of light that elongates shadows and deepens the cuts of his face.

You kiss your teeth, and say, “Hey, you got any more Jet?”

Lazy eyes slide towards you. A hairless brow quirks. “And if I did,” he asks, the vial pausing between his fingers, “why you wanna know?”

“Dunno, I’m bored… wanna get high?”

“Well, shit,” he whistles, bares his teeth. A low, crackling laugh rumbles from his chest. “Why the fuck didn’t you ask sooner.”

You shrug and crack a knuckle.

To be honest, the idea hadn’t occurred to you at first. Now that it has, anticipation curls low in your belly. Not only has it been a long, long time since you last got high (the sensation a hazy, half-remembered dream of fuzzy warmth and whirling thoughts), you know Cooper always carries a top-notch stash.

The little chem fiend, you think fondly.

“So,” you prompt. “Wanna get high together or what?”

“Sure as shit, darlin’. Let’s party.”

He settles against the pockmarked wall beside you with a soft grunt, the grit of concrete digging into his back. Thigh to thigh, his body is a rad warm line of heat. A bloom of suffocating heat in the otherwise biting chill of a wasteland night. Gunpowder and smoke tickle your nose when he leans over to rifle through his bag, leather creaking.

Muted, mellow; everything fades into a silent companionship as you pass the red inhaler between you. With every puff, whorls of smoke curl from your mouths until a murky gray cloud hovers in the air; defining the edges of your crafted universe.

The acrid vapor of chem burns its way through your lungs and into your bloodstream. A bitter taste coats your fattened tongue, lips tingling as your palm smothers little coughs. A flood of static rushes down your nerve endings, sends your head spinning.

As your vision blurs, the tension leeches from rounded shoulders with a bone weary sigh. And with every slow clicking blink, colors spark to life in a distorted kaleidoscope. Head lolling to the side, you watch through heavy eyes as Cooper rattles the inhaler and takes a shallow hit.

When he exhales, little tendrils of smoke caress the plains of his cheek. Dance along the hollow nasal ridge. “Almost out.” He grunts, your fingers brushing when he passes the cartridge back. “Go on, now. Finish it.”

The kind gesture (for him) touches you.

Then a faraway thought flutters.

Snags - settles into a nebulous desire.

And before you can second guess yourself, a rumble of thunder shakes the building. Wipes away the last of your common sense, and reservations. After all, why not? He was nice enough to share. You can too.

To his credit, Cooper doesn’t startle when you slink into his lap - not that you expect him to, even without being chem-addled. He tracks your movements from beneath a heavy brow bone, the dark Nuka Cola of his eyes glittering like shattered glass in the wane light.

“Heh, this that kinda party then, darlin’?” he asks once you settle, your thighs draped over his hips and your ass flush with his crotch. “‘Cuz you’ll be wanting ta extricate yourself if it ain’t.”

—Before I do it for you.

Humming, you dip forward until your breasts brush over the wide expanse of his chest. Interest flickers to life behind your navel; cinders cracking and popping along your spine. While you’d never considered Cooper a sexual availability beforehand (what with his never-ending search for family), the laden weight of his gaze as it pauses on your chin before dropping lower sings through your blood.

Kickstarts your heart into a galloping stutter that thuds against your ribcage as longing hooks behind your navel, tugs sudden and sharp. The world spins.

Maybe, you think, peering at him from beneath the fan of your lashes. Maybe…

“Pervert,” you murmur, biting down on a small smile.

The knife-sharp smirk falls from his lips faster than a comedown from Psycho when your fingertips ghost over the curve of his jaw, turning his head towards you. Like this, you share breath, the scant space between you thrumming with energy.

So close you can see flecks of gold in the amber whiskey of his eyes.

Your forehead brushes over his; the rough drag of gnarled skin sending a shiver through your limbs. “Let’s share the last hit. S’only fair.”

Pausing, he considers you for several long moments.

His gaze bounces from yours to the playful curve of your mouth and back. A small eternity passes like this. And then - when you’re about to crawl away to lick your wounded pride - the most imperceptible of nods grants his assent.

There’s a hiss of aerosol, a lung burning inhale, and then you’re exhaling into the open gash of his mouth.

Wisps of smoke dance off your tongue onto his, the bow of your lips glancing off the swell of his top lip as you squirm closer. You feed him chem in a slow, steady stream until all the air has left you.

He groans - a wounded, low-throated sound.

Your eyes flutter open to find him already staring, his iris a thin ring around the Blackhole of his wide blown pupils. Hooded, hungry: a caged predator. You lick your lips, and in doing so, flick your tongue over his.

Your stomach swoops, “I --”

“You’re such a needy fuckin’ brat, y’know that, sweetheart?”

Whether it was an apology or some other retort stuck to the back of your teeth like hard candy, you’ll never know because in the next moment a rough hand knocks the Jet out of your hand. The inhaler cracks against the concrete with a plastic smack before skidding off into the darkness.

A burning palm curls around your wrist, calloused fingers digging into your fluttering pulse point. “Hey — hngg!”

He yanks you close, and you taste the violence in his kiss.

Harsh lips map out the softness of yours as teeth pinch and roll until your mouth is a swollen mess of tender flesh and smeared spit. Keeping up with the frenzied scrape of his tongue and the deep pulls of his kisses is like trying to weather a hurricane or fight off a Yao Guai with a single bullet.

“W-Wait,” you gasp, fingers twined through the lapels of his duster. “I don’t --”

“Shut up,” Cooper growls, worrying the swell of your bottom lip until a bead of blood bubbles to the surface. He sucks it away with a stifled moan, his hips kicking up against the plush of your ass.

“Shut the fuck up right now. You know what you was doing - trying ta act innocent when you’ve been gaggin’ for it.”

Flustered, you pull back, “No, that’s not true!”

It’s hard to keep your balance with chem pumping through your veins, and you sway to the side. The only thing keeping you upright is the bruising grip Cooper has on your wrist. “I haven’t been — you’re wr-rong.”

He spits out a mean spirited chuckle. “If that’s what you need ta tell yourself, sweetheart.” A critical eye drags down the pathetic sight you make, crumbled as you are in his lap. “But I know the truth. I felt you looking - pantin’ after me like a bitch in heat.”

“...”

Panic grips you by the throat, your pulse thundering against the thumb he strokes along the curve of your shoulder. You should’ve known better.

Of course, he’d notice.

He was The Ghoul after all - best bounty hunter from this coast to the next. It was his job to perceive everything around him, sus out friend from foe.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

“I’m… I’m sorry.”

What else can you say?

He brought you along (for whatever reason, fuck if you know why), and you’ve caused nothing but trouble every step of the way. It’s a wasteland miracle he hasn’t kicked your ass and left you bleeding in the dirt by now.

I have to fix this. Whatever it takes.

“I ain’t wanting you sorry.”

Gulping, you will away the sting of tears, and say, “Please, don’t kick me out.”

“Y’know, sometimes I think it’s a miracle you survived this long at all.”

“You don’t have to be so rude about it…” 

“Listen good and well, sugar,” he says with a roll of his eyes, that tender hand brushing over your neck turning into a collar as he drags you close. His lips whisper over yours with every word. “I didn’t go through all of this bullshit just ta get rid of you. Now--”

Hips rut up into you, dragging the firm line of his growing erection along the soft globes of your ass. “Stop teasin’ and make yourself useful,” he says. “Or you will be sorry.”

Everything after that flicks in and out of focus like a zoetrope: the burning clasp of hands, the slick glide of hungry mouths, the frantic rock of your hips as you both chase after dry friction with a desperation that borders on madness.

Your hands don’t know where to settle, fluttering from the nape of his neck to the breadth of his shoulders to the rippling muscle of his stomach as he rocks into you. Bites at any exposed skin that he can until his teeth leave marks you’ll carry for days.

All the while the hard edges of his body crash into your softness like waves against an eroding shore. Liquid fire blazes in your belly like a raging wildfire, scorching you from the inside out until you’re dumb and dripping.

The chem snaking through your body enhances the littlest of sensations until you feel like one giant exposed nerve. Slick drenched and sweaty, you moan weakly and rest your forehead against his cheek.

“Please,” you slur, thighs trembling where they squeeze at his live-wire hips. “S’not enough - need more. Wanna cum. Please, please, please. Make me cum.”

Cooper bites out a curse, his fingers biting into the fat of your ass. “Yeah, s’that right, sweetheart - d’you think you deserve it for bein’ such a lil brat?”

“Yes, yes, please, I’ll do anything. Just - hhahh, fuck!”

The fabric of your panties clings to your folds, and your pants chafe.

Your clit throbs with every thud of your heartbeat, every firm grind of his cock and low husk of his voice. Want him seated so deep inside you choke - your poor pussy struggling to take his cock as he rides you so hard you cry.

“Anything?” he asks with a breathless chuckle.

The devilish gleam of his eyes rattles your bones, shivers of electric anticipation fizzing through your veins like Quantum.

“Well, shit. Don’t come cryin’ ta me when you regret it. Now, take off those fucking pants and ride my cock like a good girl.”

And when he bullies his way inside, those thick ridges dragging along gummy walls, you almost swallow your tongue. He’s so big - the biggest you’ve ever had.

Every inch is a struggle, a victory. He’s not patient, he’s not kind. You don’t want it any other way, spread so wide your pussy flutters pathetically, trying to push him out.

Then the fat head grazes past the rough patch of your g-spot, sliding home to kiss your cervix. Your knees lock around his ribs, your head tossing back as a high-pitched whine punches its way out of your throat.

“A-Ah! I can’t — oh shit — you’re so,” you babble. “Too much!”

An ache spears deep, roots behind your navel.

“Heh, you asked for it, sweetheart. Look at me.” A scarred thumb wicks away a tear as you peel your eyes open with a sniffle. “That’s it. Shit, you look s’pretty when you cry.”

He licks his skin clean, uses his wet thumb to reach between you and roll the pad over your abused clit. You jump, sliding up on his shaft only for gravity to drag you back down with a solid smack of skin, your limbs jello soft.

The motion slams him deeper and slick drips from you in a sticky gush to soak his balls. You cry out, reedy thin.

Cooper grunts, warns, “You keep doing that and we’re not stoppin’ til you’re dripping cum.”

Though the thick haze of chem and syrupy sweet pleasure, you cobble together a grin and lick your way into his mouth. Tangle your tongues and suck as your hips arch into his. “Please, ruin me,” you breathe.

A possessive greed glints at you from the depths of his hangman eyes.

“Don’t go sayin’ I didn’t warn you, sweetheart,” he promises.

[luminiamore]

STRETCH.

yoga instructer choso x black man-eater reader

a/n: this is heavily inspired by jennifer’s body (・_・ヾ

also 1000 followers WHATT? (つ✧ω✧)つ

no branding included in this fic actually, so yk what that means. part two in the future asf (ﾉ´ з `)ノ

warnings: murder, reader is a succubus who eats boys & the girls she sleeps with (not choso), reader has fangs, big dick choso, he’s shy, he do be eating ass though, sloppy eater, whiny choso, pussydrunk cho, breeding asf, soft dom choso but like (￣ω￣;) subby, he makes reader submit, just nasty, also frens with satosugu

masterlist

man-eater

Noun

man-eater (plural man-eaters)

An animal that attacks and kills humans for food, such as certain tigers or sharks; any animal that consumes human flesh. quotations 

A cannibal; a human that eats other humans. quotations 

(by extension, slang) A seductive dangerous woman, often readily taking and discarding male romantic partners. 

One thing you loved about the 21st century is that there was never a shortage of people. They were everywhere. Crawling around like little ants and fucking rapidly like rabbits. You never ran out of your source of food, your source of life. 

Your species have been around for a long time. You don’t remember how you came to be, but when you first opened your eyes, you were in the center of hot molten rock from the middle of the northwest Pacific Ocean. Tamu Massif, the world’s massive underwater volcano, just 1,600 km east of Japan, was your home. 

Your first feeding, your first kill, happened off the coast on the Seychelles beaches about two days after you were awakened. Your brown body was paling by then, but you didn’t know why. At first, you didn’t know what you were, but you knew you were weak and physically unable to move at some point. While still beautiful, your eyes lacked any life in them. You needed energy.

In your defense, they came to you. The wife did, more specifically. You were under the sun a lot; it was the only thing that could at least give you some life. You suspected she and the buff man with her were here as tourists, a honeymoon vacation spot perhaps. But, even after just being introduced to this world, you knew what you preferred. You were selective.

Her husband wasn’t all that interesting to break, but her... 

She was gorgeous, downright angelic. And you had such a strong desire to fuck her. And weirdly enough, your mouth started savoring at the thought of eating her. 

It seems you hadn’t known just how insatiable you can be, just how powerful you really are. It wasn’t on purpose; you swear it wasn’t. But you know what they say about firsts. She was addicting. How soft she was, how perfect her body fit with yours. She taught you how to feel, how to let go. You were so high on pleasure.

So, you can imagine your distress when you wake up to her unmoving body on top of your naked one. When you shift your eyes to the left, you notice her neck, specifically the missing chunk of it. You lick your lips and immediately grimace at the saltiness. You pushed her body towards your side with a huff. 

At first, you felt quite hysterical. You ran toward the mirror and saw something that caused you to gasp.  

Was that blood?

Red spots were all over your face, and your mouth area was even more adorned. Your locs are messy, cascading down past your hips. It wasn’t difficult to figure out what occurred while you were intoxicated with pleasure. 

Your face is grim as you grasp onto the skin of your forehead, groaning. Flashes start to appear in your mind. A glimpse of her face, body, her pussy. Flashes of you leaning into her neck, flashes of her neck being torn apart, and flashes of her body shaky under your firm hold. 

Oh.

After about ten seconds had passed of your staring in the mirror, you accepted that this woman was now dead. You had killed her. 

But.. you weren’t overwhelmed by dread. Not upset or guilty that you completely depleted this woman’s life force. A strong feeling coursed through every nook and cranny in your veins, and you felt rejuvenated. The eye bags that had formed beneath your wispy eyelashes were absent, you could tell that much despite the amount of blood splattered on your face.

You had a liking for this feeling. Your strength was apparent, and your skin was brighter and clearer. You experienced such a state of euphoria. And well, you would die if you didn’t get more. Literally and figuratively.

You didn’t make an effort to conceal the body; you felt no need to. You felt compelled to go somewhere, but when you looked in that direction, all you could see was the moving water. You escaped into the ocean at the exact moment, moving as fast as you could away from the small island and following the intense pressure calling out to you.

Since that incident, you’ve stayed in Japan. A black woman with unnatural beauty stalked through the night, undeniably being the center of attention. You were the talk of everywhere you went; people often compared you to a witch, a vampire was the funniest one you’ve heard. You were unusual and feared a little by the public. Although you were beautiful, every step you took was infused with a sense of danger and mystery. Death, even. 

It’s common for people who left with you to never be seen again. In the event that they were, they weren’t the same. People had this inexhaustible attraction towards you. They wanted to know more, they tried to discover the secrets you held. But unless you choose them, all people could potentially get out of you was a meaningless glance.

The more you kill, the stronger you become. You became aware of this shortly after your second kill, and you could soon hold off on feeding for weeks if you needed to. Though you’ve grown to realize that you’re superior to a particular breed, you were never the type to go crazy with power. Many of your species, you could tell, were famous and had the most influence on the public. 

Take the city’s most well-known billionaires, such as Suguru Geto and Satoru Gojo. Their ownership of many corporations and businesses allowed them to have multiple connections with dangerous parts of Japan, such as the Yakuza. However, they also contribute significant amounts of income to the city annually. Their support of the most popular things in the population was indisputable, making it impossible not to like them. It wasn’t because they wanted to; they weren’t that generous, but because they loved power. 

Passing them on your stroll, you could tell they were similar to you. Their scent was unlike that of humans, and their energy and absolute pheromones were ridiculous. They were looking for prey that night, you could tell by how potent it was. And perhaps if you were human, you would have fallen for their charm when they called out for you. 

They had plans to make you their meal for the night, but unfortunately, their hypnotic effect on humans didn’t work on you. That’s when they realized that you were like them, and well, they were both amused. 

“Aw, how cute,”

“Bet you would’ve tasted real good too.”

To this day, you don’t know if Suguru was talking about eating you or your pussy. Even so, you became a close friend of the pair from that moment forward. There were days when they would pop up to your apartment unannounced and grace you with their antics. It was more of a domestic setting, not sexual, but they enjoyed being around someone who deeply understood them. 

Today was one of those days. Your peaceful nap ended when they entered your bedroom and plopped down on your bed, discussing the last feeding they had. Satoru’s voice reaches an enthusiastic pitch,

“She was so bendy, Suguru! She bent over backwards, and she was still taking my dick,” 

The long-haired man shifts his eyes carelessly towards his best friend, who is resting on your thighs and intensely focused on something on his phone. You were oblivious to the words spewed out by Satoru, fighting against the sleep you had gotten before they arrived. The latter raises a brow,

“Hmm,”

“She told me she takes something called yoga classes? It’s a shame she’s dead now, she was fu- Wait! Hey, Y/n?”

Your response is a hum as he shifts his head to your face and speaks with a sly smile on his lips,

“Do you take yoga classes?” 

You were not very fond of modern activities, so you rarely indulged in them. You rarely attempt to learn about human life and what they do for fun or work due to that knowledge. Their values never weighed down on you, and as a result, you lived a peaceful life. When you glanced down at piercing ice eyes, the confusion was evident on your face, 

“What’s..yoga?”

Suguru gave a response instead, knowing that Satoru would give you a misleading description of the exercise, 

“It’s just an activity humans do to calm the mind and stretch the body.”

“I see. Does it bring pleasure?”

“Maybe, they seem to be very satisfied afterwards.”

You twist your head in thought, interesting. Satoru pokes at your shoulder, and when you glance down, he shows you his phone screen. Plentiful pictures of women in various positions, very flexible..positions. Was she holding herself up on her forearms?

“Where can I find this? I’d like to.. learn.” Your own words caused you to startle yourself, and now you’re completely awake. 

Since when? 

You hear a breathy laugh coming from beneath you. “Oh yeah? Didn’t peg you as the type to like playing with your food.” His fingers move to find the nearest yoga studio by your building, despite his taunting, and he feels internally happy when he discovers it’s one he knows. 

You flick his head, giggling while he grunts a bit. “It’s interesting. I didn’t know the body could shape itself like that.” In all honesty, he presented you with some pictures that made you grimace a little. 

“There’s a place called Kamo’s Zen Sanctuary a few blocks from here. Of course, Suguru and I are friends with the owner.”

The mentioned man hums in assurance, 

“We can send a car to take you tomorrow afternoon if you’re up for it.” He wiggles his brows as he waits for your response.

As always, they kept their word without fail. Before the car arrived the next day, a large package was delivered to your door with a flimsy note that said, ‘You’re welcome.’ 

It’s probable that you only needed one yoga set, but your friends wanted to give you a wide array of choices to pick from. Ultimately, you opted for a lightweight black set. When you looked in the mirror, you really saw how the clothing accentuated your body, especially your ass. Oh, you liked this.

Stopping outside the studio, your mind suddenly became well aware that you didn’t know how human establishments operated. You took pleasure in the decorative pieces that this place had. Cold air, a Buddha statue spilling water steadily in a bowl, and soothing violin music immediately welcomed you upon arrival. 

Despite not being familiar with the environment, you still entered it with grace. You would have left if it weren’t for the tall, handsome gentleman who sneaked up on you from behind. His silent demeanor made it impossible to hear him, and when you saw his face, you indeed weren’t disappointed.

“Do you need help, miss?”

Smooth was how his words came across. When you faced him, his face was smooth, too. Your body vibrated, your fingertips were slightly twitching, and your mind was reeling in the fact that you were suddenly very, very hungry. Although it’s been a week since you last had anything to eat, you’ve already found your next prey. 

Him. The quite pale man with a pair of beautiful, solemn eyes. The dark line across his face is a perfect fit for him, and it’s hard not to notice. His plum lips are almost puckered, but they look so soft you want to sink your teeth into them. You want him.

You eye his exposed biceps in the black shirt clinging onto his pale skin, “Yes, I want to learn yoga. How can I?”   

Even as his ears flush, he maintains a steady tone and unbothered expression when addressing you, barely making eye contact, “I can get you started with that. My name is Choso. I’m an instructor here. Come with me, miss.”

You nodded without reason because the man had already turned and started walking to a different room. You’re staring at him, more so the way his muscles ripple with every step he takes. There’s an intangible desire on your part to fuck this man, bite every inch of his body until he was withering in pleasure. 

Choso seemed shy, but you liked that he was nervous and fidgety around you as you faced him in a larger room with a mirror covering both ends. There were no lights on, only candles surrounding the black walls. The echo from the fish swimming in the small pond could be heard throughout the space. 

His back could be seen through the clear glass. As you looked around, you also noticed red mats and..blocks? This place was strange. You lick your lips when he speaks again, 

“This is where we do the practice. I sense that you’re new to this. Do you want to start with a small stretch first?” His hand reaches behind him to pick up a thin mat, his low purple eyes flickering between the object and you. 

“Of course, Choso.”

Choso has a sweet scent, almost like a bakery. The moment you walked inside, his scent infiltrated your nostrils. The sheer proximity of his body when he guided you into what he said was the downward dog position made you feel like you were floating. You felt hot, even on fire, when he touched you. The fabric you wore was so tightly held onto your body that it felt like he was touching your bare skin.

He was exerting pressure on your lower thighs, making them conform to the position. When you glanced in the mirror, he seemed so focused on what he was doing. You swear your pussy had a heartbeat. His gaze catches yours,

“Head down, miss.”

You listen wordlessly, your locs making small thumping sounds when they hit the red surface. Maybe Choso could feel the heat and craving radiating off of your body. Maybe he couldn’t. It’s impossible to read his thoughts, no matter which way you look at it. His face remains blank after he says ‘good job’ for maintaining the position after a minute. If he can feel your body heating up like you can, his expression doesn’t make it known. 

His body, however, does. More so, how red he gets, as if he’s heating up too as if he’s experiencing the same shit you are. Could he be?

Choso tells you about the next position he’s going to put you in,

“You’re a little tense on your outer hips, so we’re gonna do something called the Pigeon pose.”

You’re almost about to ask, ‘What’s that?’ but he shows you before you can even part your lips. Your right leg is flat against the floor, twisted in front of you almost perfectly, while your left leg elongates towards the back. Choso observes the difficulty of your arms in holding you up, so he goes in front of you to help. The firmness of his hands on your hips reflects his strength, especially when he presses down slightly to stretch the area. 

“It’s okay. Your legs are supporting you. You can relax a bit.” Can you, though? With the way, he’s pressing on an area that’s suddenly very sore to you. His voice is scratching some primal part of your brain. You think it’s impossible.

“Am I supposed to be doing something while in this position?” You intentionally lower your voice to make him look at you. He does, just not in the way you want. That stupid, blank expression is still on his face. You rub your lower body on the mat, shivering a little as it barely touches your clit through the fabric.

“You’re supposed to breathe. Just be.” He speaks softly against your face. You were fond of his closeness, the sensation of his breath being directly on your skin. 

“When will this feel pleasurable?” You exhale. You honestly weren’t seeing any interest in human activities again. You were only getting a slight burn on your legs, and that was due to the grip Choso still had on you.

You don’t know what it is you said, but you watch Choso intensely. You can see his eyes widen for a split second before returning to their original state.

“Pleasurable? You came here.. for pleasure?” 

There was a slight hiccup in his voice at the end of his question. You got him, you think. It shouldn’t be much to get him under you now. He taps his long fingers on your hip twice twice in an attempt to make you shift to the other leg, causing you to jump. 

A wince escapes your lips as he releases his grip on you, “I hear that this practice can give that. Is it true?”

You finally caught Choso’s eye on you. In fact, his gaze remains on you even after he observes your body shift its position. You believe that you like his eyes on you. He lowers himself to your level to help you still your body.

“I suppose it depends on what kind of pleasure you’re looking for, miss.”

You hum softly as you breathe him in once more today when his palms rest against you once again. What did he mean by that?

You reply, but your gaze never leaves his, “What kind of pleasure can you give me, Choso?” 

Choso was quiet, reserved from the public, and honestly tried his best to avoid any eye contact with you during your entire time in his studio. But he only has so much self-control, as did you. The only conversation was a series of intense squelching sounds as Choso sucked on your pink bud obscenely. 

“Oh fuck- Just like that, Cho!”

He moaned fervently against your brown lips, pulling your hips against his face and keeping your cheeks apart with his large grip. You were on your knees, back shaped into a perfect arch. He was not letting go, squeezing his tongue down your wet pussy lips. Your body shakes as his tongue licks a stripe through your folds, circles all over your puckered hole, and drool slips onto the thin mat.

“Ah-!”

Your cries made Choso even more red in the ears. He thought he was pretty dull, not exciting or engaging to talk to. He didn’t pay much attention to his looks, girls always found him too.. weird. It wasn’t something he expected to happen on his day. He knew who you were before you came in, Satoru had the pleasure of letting him know you were on your way. But the minute you came into his place of work, he found it very hard to resist you. That’s why he didn’t make any eye contact. 

The truth is, Choso was deeply attracted to you and found it terrifying. 

Choso’s pretty head was puzzled by the fact that he was responsible for the angelic sounds that emerged from your plump lips. He couldn’t fathom that he was on his knees licking the most sensitive parts of your body. But, he welcomed it, letting himself sink into the essence of you with a feeling of overwhelming desperation. 

“Want more. Come on, miss. Give m-me more, please.”

How much more can you give him? He already has his face deep inside of you. You understand what he is trying to say when he inserts two fingers into your wet mound, dragging them in and out and carefully grazing the spongy spot that makes you thrash around. You immediately clench at the intrusion, feeling the overwhelming pleasure burn in the pit of your stomach. 

Choso is eager to pay attention to all parts of you but doesn’t know where to focus. Every part of you tastes so celestial, he wanted you to give him everything at the same time. His finger-fucking is swift, and your mind is entirely absent when the man pushes his tongue into and out of your ass simultaneously. Choso was so turned on that his precum was making a stain on his shorts from how much he was leaking.

His moans vibrated against your lower lips, and you swore in all your existence that you had never been eaten so nasty like this. He was going to make you cum so fast that you couldn’t even be mad about it.

He can feel it. The fatness of your pussy is pressing against Choso’s two big fingers, forcing him to use more strength to maintain his rapid pace. Your wetness creates a beautiful clear puddle under his attack, and he can feel it. Could you also do that on his dick? Milk his cock over and over and over again until he couldn’t cum anymore? Choso has been an atheist his entire life, but he almost prayed for this one favor.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Ouuu fuck! I’m g-gonna-”

The man doesn’t respond at first, only presses into your G-spot harder and more forcefully, as if he has a point to prove. He circles at your clit, wrapping the twitching bud around his lips, and sucks hard. What does it for you is the drunk whispers vibrating against your core of ‘Please, give it to me. Just cum. Fuck, it’s so wet.’

Your stomach tightens, your hands grip the carpeted floor in front of you, and your mouth releases pornographic moaning as cream pours out of you and onto his waiting tongue. Choso is clamoring for your taste, and as a result, he moans out with you. You have a strong desire for him, but for some inexplicable reason, your body is unwilling to eat him. Instead, you never wanted to fuck a person so badly in your life. 

Choso’s close proximity makes him ignore your little whimpers while rubbing his blushing, leaking tip up and down your sloppy cunt. When did he even pull his dick out? 

“Bet it’s so w-warm inside. Ah-” When his flushed tip accidentally slips in, and he gets a taste of the warmth you bring, his breathy voice cracks. You’re whining now. Pushing back on Choso, sucking his wide cock in your greedy hole, feeling impatient to force him down far enough to rip your pussy. 

Choso has the most beautiful moans you’ve ever heard. His voice is deep, but his tone gets so high in pitch when he’s like this. It’s so whiny it makes you cream. Literally. His voice cracks, just like his resolve does when you slide all 7.8 inches of him in so that your hips are flush against his pelvis. The feeling of his dick inside of you is so good that you’re so close to begging.

He thought he could have some self-control, but he barely kept it together when he was just eating you out. Your drooling pussy convulsing and contracting against Choso, against his cock, is a sign that his soul has reached a part of heaven. He couldn’t stop himself, really. He couldn’t do anything but relentlessly fuck you at an inhuman pace. 

“So good. So good. Pussy’s so fucking-” He cuts himself off with a loud groan when he witnesses your soft brown cheeks being spread apart for him, revealing a magnificent view of your pussy being stretched beyond their limits. Giving him a beautiful view of your messy pussy creaming the more his dick repeatedly punches your g-spot again and again and again.

You’re wailing. You’re trying to find something to hold onto that can bring your mind back to reality. Choso makes it so hard. He is becoming more and more clingy to your liquids, and his hips are vibrating violently against yours, making you believe he might be bruising your cervix. You love it. You love every speck of pleasure flowing and rippling through your body. You love everything he’s giving your body at this moment.

“I-I know what you- Oh fuck. W-what you are,”

Huh?

The thought is almost pushed out of your head when he angles his hips to get deeper inside of you. Wet and dirty sounds of his balls hitting your clit are filling the air of the stretch room. Choso is rambling now. Your pretty pussy’s attempt to milk his cock until there was nothing is making him feel delirious. It just feels so good, so safe, so wet. God, you were so fucking wet for him. He continues his fucked out declaration,

“A-And I can tell y-you don’t like c-commitment, but please. Please let me k-keep you satisfied for all e-eternity.” His rough and insatiable pounding sends your mind to distant places while he pleads. 

With whatever coherent part of your brain is still there, you cower away at the proposition. Shaking your head rapidly in a ‘no’ motion. His harsh thrusts are practically felt in your womb, pushing your hips away when you scramble to grab something stable to hold you on the floor.

Of course, Choso doesn’t let you run away like that. He quickly brings your waist back against him, making sure that his cock is nestled in the deepest parts of your warmth for a moment before starting to thrust again. You’re forced to take it all, and he doesn’t even need to say a word to prevent you from trying that shit again.

Still, you whimper out,

“Chooo baby, I can’t- Ahhh! Can’t l-let you do that.”

Choso only frowns at the evident lie on your lips and pushes your entire body harder onto the mat. A loud gasp escapes your lips when you unexpectedly squirt all over the thin object due to the sudden pressure you feel on your cervix. He was so deep.

Choso doesn’t slow down; he only moans with staggering moans when your pussy sprays its juices on him. In fact, he goes faster. 

“P-Please, miss. I can make you feel this g-good whenever you want. I can- Fuckk. I promise I c-can always fuck you deep like t-this. I’ll worship you. I’d do anything you- anything you ask, just please. L-Let me.” 

It seems that Choso understood precisely what you needed, a bit of prodding and persuading. He’s sure that if someone happens to walk into the lobby, they’ll hear exactly what’s going on due to the loud squelching you both are making. But why does he want that? Why does he want everyone to know that he is the one making you cry out so pretty as if he were your god? Despite your brief resolve, you give the handsome man exactly what he asks. You.

“Yes! Oh fuck yes! M’all yours, Cho! M’cumming- Shit. Shit. Shit. I’m-”

The sounds you both made at the same time were too much for your lovemaking to drown out. With your dam breaking, your pussy twitching open and closed, and your tight pussy covering his heavy cock with splashes of clear liquid and your sweet, sweet cream, Choso gets a taste of heaven. He cums with you. His hand grips the sides of your hips so hard, even through your dark skin, that it might leave bruises. Your perfect pussy squeezing a heavy load out of the man so much that he was shaking when he felt it overfill your cunt. Fuck, you’re too much. 

Heavy breathing and a light pap sound coming from his cum dripping out of your poor pussy could barely be heard by both of you. Choso was in such a headspace that his mind needed to take a breather to gather what the fuck he was going to say to you in a few minutes, his dick softening inside you. You were feeling the after-effects of being fucked so good, buzzing in your right ear, spasming on a cock that’s still buried deep inside of you, and aches on your lower body.

You start to pull off of him, thinking that’s what he wants, but he immediately grabs your hips and keeps you still, still not getting over the euphoric feeling of your pussy on him. Choso realizes something, and at this moment, he feels the most embarrassed he has ever felt. He managed to get a girl's commitment without even knowing her name. 

“Um.. miss?”

You barely let out a whisper, “Yes, Cho?”

“… What’s your name?”

There’s a beat of silence. Please don’t hate me. Please don’t hate me. Please don’t hate me. Choso is pleading that you won’t hate him.

His thoughts were disrupted by a melodic laugh and a honey voice, “It’s Y/n, cutie.” 

Y/n? He finds that name so.. pretty. Almost as pretty as your body. Almost as pretty as the sight of your tight pussy creaming up and- 

Well, now he’s hard again. You won’t mind if he pleases you a little more, right? After all, he made a promise, and Choso is never known for breaking his promises.

tags🏷️:: @hatake05

tags🏷️:: @thickbihhwitdagapp

[bloddysnow]

Summary: You are an emperor, and you have your own harem consisting of four consorts.

Pairings: Sub! Bottom! Zayne/Sylus/Rafayel/Xavier x Dom! Top! Gn! Reader

nsfw minors dni

They have different features and characters, each of which is a unique combination of beauty, strength and charm.

The first consort, Zayne was a skillful healer, known for his wisdom and insight. He was not only handsome, but also smart. His knowledge of herbs and medicines helped to keep you in good health, helping to stay full of strength and energy. He often gave you valuable advice in governing the state. He had a refined taste and exquisite grace. His outfits have always been made with elegance.

The second consort, Rafayel, has a passionate temperament and burning beauty. Something about him always makes him the center of attention in any room. He chooses the most precious fabrics and jewelry to emphasize his beauty. Rafayel spends his days perfecting the art of dance, demonstrating flexibility and ability to control his body. He was not only a talented dancer, but also a skillful musician. In the evenings, he plays the lyre, hoping to attract you with melodic sounds and his angelic voice. His talent was known far beyond the palace.

The third consort, Sylus is famous for his wisdom and deep knowledge of poetry and philosophy. Passion and temptation permeates his every movement and every word. His eyes burn with the fire of thirst, giving mystery. He is also a master of martial arts. His grace and dexterity delighted everyone who saw his training. He often quotes poems and philosophical thoughts, hoping to win your heart through mind and soul.

The fourth consort, Xavier is known for his innocence and sincerity. He wears light and bright outfits that emphasize his young beauty. Its beauty is emphasized by simplicity and naturalness. He likes to walk in the garden and pick flowers. He wants to attract you with his purity and innocence. His room is filled with the scents of fresh flowers and the soft light of candles since he every evening hopes that you’ll want to visit him.

They dress up in frank clothes that barely cover their bodies to better demonstrate the traces of your caresses - dark spots and red marks from love bites that cover their delicate skin with a marble pattern. Every sign you leave is considered a pride, and they do not hide them under their makeup, but show them out.

At public meetings, banquets, parties and most social events, your consorts properly stand right behind your back and will always accompany you. Their presence behind your back symbolized the unity and strength of the imperial family. They’ll hide their faces under face veil, leaving only their eyes open. Since childhood, they have been taught that their bodies belong only to the emperor, and this knowledge is deeply rooted in their minds. Because of this, they cannot get physical pleasure on their own, knowing that their purpose is to serve only you.

As an emperor, you are aware of the importance of fair and respectful treatment of your consorts. And you try to pay equal attention to them all, making sure that each of them feels loved and valuable.

Evenings in the garden with Xavier have become an oasis of calm and happiness for you. The garden has an atmosphere of peace and harmony created by the rustle of foliage, the singing of birds and the quiet murmur of the fountain. Xavier brings the book he chose in advance and sits on the soft grass under the shade of an old oak leaning against it. You settle down next to him, putting your head on his lap. His hands begin to gently stroke your hair. He opens the book and starts reading aloud. His voice, soft and expressive, fills the space around you. Closing your eyes, you enjoy every minute spent with him.

Sylus often asks you to practice with him. One of your rules was the following: if he wins, you will fulfill any of his wishes. He attacks quickly and deftly, trying to find vulnerabilities. You, in turn, fight back, always trying to keep a balance between defense and attack. However, despite his aspiration and skills, he has never managed to defeat you. You are always one step ahead. You know that the real goal of these trainings is not victory, but time spent together. And this ends with Sylus breathing heavily with his hands around your neck, feeling the warmth of your body. Your hands wrap around his waist, pulling him closer. His lips are warm, persistent, conveying all the passion that he may have been holding back for a long time.

Rafayel, dressed in light silk clothes, slowly goes to the center of the hall, illuminated by the soft light of candles. The sounds of darbuka and qanun begin to fill the space. Smooth waves run through his body, starting from his hips and rising up his spine. He skillfully uses his shoulders. His hands gently twist, repeating the curves of the melody, and his fingers touch the invisible strings, adding a touch of magic to the dance. His hips make graceful movements, synchronously swaying in the rhythm of melody. His body is the true perfection of beauty. Each muscle contraction, each movement emphasizes the ideal lines of his figure. The light of candles plays on his skin, creating a game of shadows and emphasizing every muscle. When he looks at you, it seems that time stops. His eyes are full of depth and passion, you can drown in them, forgetting about everything in the world. It's like they bewitched you, and you can't take your eyes off him. They reflect the whole world, full of mysteries and secrets that he is ready to share only with you.

In the majestic imperial palace, immersed in luxury and splendor, your life was surrounded by Zayne's care and attention. Not trusting the servants, Zayne personally followed every aspect of your daily life. It was his personal privilege and duty that he was proud of. Taking care of the emperor gave him some pleasure. He chooses your outfit for the day, also takes care of your hairstyle, skillfully styling your hair and giving it a neat look. He makes sure that consorts didn't bother you and asks you every night if you wanted to visit someone's quarters. Zayne takes care of his emperor with awe and love, trying to protect you from all possible troubles and worries. As a sign of gratitude for his tireless care and devotion, you often took his hands in your own and gratefully kiss them. Zayne was always embarrassed at these moments, looking away.

Their hearts are pounding in anticipation of your next choice, and each of them is eager to be in emperor’s quarters again. When they find themselves in your bed, their moans and screams become loud and passionate, breaking the silence of the night. It's not only an expression of their pleasure, but also a way to show others your closeness to them. They cry, clutching your cock buried deep inside them, and whisper through tears: "I'm y-your favorite, right?" Their voices tremble with emotions, and their hearts beat in the hope of confirming their uniqueness and love.

Their bellies become swollen from the amount of sperm inside their wombs. When you gently press on their stomach, white sperm flows out of their hole, and they whine, asking you not to waste it. Each of them dreams of giving birth to the first heir, who will strengthen his position in the harem and give him power and respect.

[inside-lees-mind]

hi could i rq. general konoha 11 + sand siblings nsfw hcs ! (aged up/boruto ver obv) <3

Also: nobody understands Uchihas better than I do and I don’t even like most of em. /j Why are they all practically evil in fics? I’m going crazy. Most of them are clearly softies when it comes to love. Am I right or am I right???

And sorry, you can tell who I have more ideas for and who I was drawing a blank on.

Oh and sorry yall for the gap in my writing. This one took a while. I’ve been working on it for a bit. And part of it got lost and deleted, so I rewrote it. A long with a couple other stories got deleted and I lost some motivation for a moment lol

Konoha 13 + Sand Siblings HCs

Naruto Uzumaki

He’s energetic, and that 100% applies to in bed too.

Likely inexperienced, but eager. And a little nervous.

Talked big game beforehand, but even if you didn’t know before, you definitely know it was all talk now.

That being said, he’s a quick learner, even if he complains about being confused at first.

I think he’d have like little to no knowledge though, being such a loner for a while, in all. Hope you have patience.

That being said, he is a bit of a pervert with what he does know.

Overall though, he’d set a fast pace, but the sex would still be intimate and soft.

Praise. Praise. Praise. Giving and receiving.

Sasuke Uchiha

No experience, but he knows the ins and outs.

He wasn’t too concerned with sex or anything of that matter before, but when he returned to Konoha, he realized he had feelings for you. So he starts to think about it.

He’s not a pervert like Kakashi or Naruto, and he’d never lose his cool over sexy jutsu, BUTTT he’s secretly horny as hell. Like low sex drive usually, but just being around you makes it sky rocket to abnormal levels.

He’s very private about sex though, so usually only happens in your bedroom or… cough cough in a quiet forest with nobody around cough cough (if you know, you know)

He’s got a breeding kink. Next question.

Uses a mix of degradation and praises.

Lots of demanding, but also lots of giving soooo…

I truly believe Sasuke would be a softer partner than people make him out to be. Like did yall watch Boruto or not?? He’s got awkward and sweet energy. He’s TRYING. He’s emotionally stunted yall.

More dominant and likes to be in control, but will fall apart in your arms anyways. Usually more of a soft dom than anything.

One of the most likely to be fairly kinky though. I think he’d slowly discover he’s into things as they occur or cross his mind.

Sakura Haruno

She knows a lot about the human body.

Might have experience, might not. I could see it either way.

I think your first time with her would happen after like a romantic dinner together. And it would be romantic and slow.

But… that depends on you, because she’ll mostly go with what you want. It makes her happy.

She’s okay with being degraded or praised, but she really only likes to praise you.

Low sex drive.

She likes any position she can see your face.

She’s a switch, depends on her partner’s preference.

Sai Yamanaka

(Obviously not married here but just to have a last name to add)

He read a book about what to do.

Probably does something incredibly stupid at first, but that being said, he’s not an idiot, so not too bad.

You’d probably have to correct him a little bit. Also, tell him to forget the book and just go with the feeling and follow your lead.

You’d be in the lead at first. Probably go down on him first thing.

He’s not small. (I mean did you hear the way he talked to Naruto? He’s probably got something to work with if he’s talking so confidently LMFAO)

So you’d probably have to use your hand for the base while your mouth sucks on about half or so of his cock.

His hand tangles in your hair/rests on top, not pulling, but resting there.

He throws his head back, letting out soft sighs and small moans that escape his lips. He’s not trying to be quiet, but he’s not loud either.

Although, he might have read girls don’t like when guys make noise. Who knows. Then you might have to tell him that’s not true.

At first, sex is just discovering things with him. You’re both exploring how everything feels.

But, after a few times, he starts taking the lead and initiating.

He has a low sex drive though, so he won’t initiate too often.

It’s also hard to get him to realize what you’re asking for if you drop hints. He saw your underwear when you bent over… okay. He might even comment on how you should be more careful since he knows you don’t like to expose yourself so much.

You just deadpan and tell him it was supposed to turn him on.

“Oh.” And now he’s unbuckling his pants and asking you to come sit on his lap. :)

Shikamaru Nara

Low sex drive, usually at least, because now he’s consumed by the desire to be rode by you. Like he dreams about it.

He calls you troublesome to himself when he wakes up hard in the morning occasionally.

He lowkey loves to just lay between your legs or have you sit on his face so he can eat you out (pussy or ass, don’t matter)

Lazy morning sex. He loves it.

He’s dominant, but he can be rather lazy most the time. That being said, he will fuck you how you want him to if you ask.

Degrading but he’s not super mean about it at all. More like soft grunts with degrading terms, but the rest of it comes out more like soft sighs and groans of pleasure and praise.

Choji Akimichi

The sweetest. He takes his time with you every time.

Body worship. More so giving than receiving, but he’ll be a blushing mess if you give back the same energy.

Praise. Lots of it.

He’d be the type to kiss down your body, from your lips to your neck to your chest all the way down til he gets between your legs.

He can’t bring himself to be rough or harsh with you in anyway. No degradation, rough sex, or anything.

Likes to be able to see your face during sex.

He’d like to try food play.

Ino Yamanaka

Pillow princess unless asked to do otherwise.

She loves to be praised and worshipped, but also likes things rougher.

She’s a bit of a brat about things. Constantly going against what you say for fun.

She does it on purpose so you’ll go rougher on her, she likes it.

She also likes when things are slow and romantic though.

And she’d love it if you planned like a candlelit dinner and put a trail of rose petals on like Valentine’s Day, or even just cuz.

Shino Aburame

He’s in charge. He’s on top. Whatever. He doesn’t like to not have control.

He also just wants to please you, and often he’s not too worried about himself.

Might get a little self conscious if you skip over touching him or giving him head more than once. Like if it’s been a few times now and you haven’t bothered… did he do something?

He doesn’t need it, but he just… you know how he is.

He doesn’t make much noise.

But I do believe that right before he cums, he whimpers. He can’t help it, and don’t bring it up afterwards. He’ll be so embarrassed and not want to do it for a while because he’s scared he’ll do it again.

If he gets like that, just tell him you loved it. Then go down on him and tell him you wanna make him do it again.

He’s good with his hands, I just know it.

He can go rough and be stern and demanding, but other than that, he’s rather vanilla.

He’s a big fan of missionary so he can see your face.

And he doesn’t want to do anything unless it’s in your own home or absolute private, like an inn.

Kiba Inuzuka

Hickeys.

He loves giving them.

You will have like 20. From your jaw to your thighs, he’s marked. Plenty of them are visible and hard to hide because they’re dark.

He doesn’t exactly take his time. No, those hickeys are from the entire act. He starts leaving them during foreplay, then when he’s pounding into you, he quiets himself down by latching onto your skin.

When he eats you out, he leaves bite marks and hickeys around your thighs.

He calls it “marking his territory” then has to explain himself because no he doesn’t mean you’re a territory, you’re not a place or an object… he just… you’re his partner!

He’s rough.

Likes doggystyle most, but then he gets upset that he can’t see your face and next time he sets up a mirror.

Quickies. He can’t wait. He’ll whine if you tell him NO he can’t fuck you under the blanket, because YES people will notice the movement.

You might want to settle and pull him into a bathroom and let him fuck you over the counter, but he won’t force or beg you to the point of you giving in or anything. He’ll wait if you really mean no.

He’s got a high sex drive

Very likely to be pretty kinky. He’d be willing to tie you up, spank you, degrade you, etc.

He won’t do pet play. Thinks that shit is weird. So don’t think that because he’s a dog user, he’s gonna act dog like or have you act dog like. In fact, he’s more likely to hate it as a dog user.

I think he’d find any roleplay to be useless though. You could convince him if you wanted, but he’ll complain.

Hinata Hyuga

Much more intimate and gentle sex is what she wants

She’s not a pillow princess. She literally fantasizes about pleasing her partner.

Like probably day dreams, gets lost in her own thoughts, then is a blushing mess when she realizes that somebody is talking to her and she’s imagining what your moans would sound like when she’s between your legs, ESPECIALLY if the person talking to her is you.

She likes to do it in private, but she can’t deny that she imagines doing it where you both currently are. Not that she would.

Secretly has a high sex drive

Long refractory period though. She needs breaks between rounds.

Neji Hyuga

Took him a while to get vulnerable enough to take off his clothes if he’s being honest

Also I think Hyuga’s are very reserved and conservative until marriage, but he has such a tough time following that.

He really wants to jump your bones. And it’s almost like the fact he can’t because of his clan’s reserved and traditional nature just makes it WAYYYY more tempting.

You’re literally irresistible to him

Secretly, he’s just a little bit of a pervert. (Like Rock Lee’s Ninja Pals says he is)

I think he would have wet dreams from sexual frustration. Like the longer he holds back from having you under him, the worse it gets. Like a disease with no treatment.

I think your first time with him would be sudden, and it would be his first time ever.

You’d look WAYYYYY to good, and this time he can’t bring himself to ignore the boner he gets. No he’s gotta see if you’ll indulge him.

He may stop and pull away, get his act together if you remind him of his clan’s pride, and how he was so bent on following it before.

Maybe the first time, but by the next time he tries to give in, there is no try. He is cancelling any plans y’all had and tearing the outfit that made your body look so irresistible off.

He doesn’t have a super high sex drive, but he has such a hard time resisting just laying you down when you look so damn good. You are the reason he’s horny.

He loves when you ride him, and he WILL whimper. He tries not to, but Neji can’t be silent with the way you are squeezing him. The way you do it is so perfect, every bounce is drawing a noise out of him until he’s literally just letting out a stream of loud whimpers as he cums.

I think his cum would actually taste good. Next question.

Rock Lee

Perverted…

He feels bad for it when he catches himself, but Oop it’s too late… he’s got a boner

Boners are obvious in that green spandex…

He wouldn’t agree with doing it in public or semi-public though, but if you noticed his behavior or boner and pulled him off into the bathroom, ignoring his “this is indecent!” Protests because when you look at him before diving in to give him head, his eyes are literally pleading and he shuts up, pushing his hips towards your face.

He can’t be quiet so you’ll have stuff something in his mouth or cover it with your hand.

He secretly wants your chest in his face. He’s a chest guy. Boobs, pecks, whatever. He loves everything chest.

But he also loves ass. Small or big. Wants to grab a handful anyways.

Total switch

Because listen, he loves to pin your hips down and force you to accept the pleasure you’re trying to deny yourself.

Loves to pound his hips against yours until you’re a mess, but he also loves to do as you say.

He loves to be broken down until he’s in pieces by your mouth, body, words, whatever.

He whimpers like constantly, especially when he’s submissive. He tries to shut up when he’s dirty talking as he’s in charge, but he lets GO otherwise.

Tenten

I’m sorry her portion of this will be… lacking. I don’t know enough to say much. I love her, but I’ve never really thought about this at all.

I think she’d be a switch, but prefers to be in charge.

I think she’s depend greatly on you though.

If you don’t want to bottom/sub, that’s good.

Or vise versa.

She likes to take her time when she’s in control.

She’s fairly willing to try new things if you want to.

She enjoys going down on you most of all.

Gaara of the Sand

He’s very private about everything. He believes that his private life and his kazekage life should stay relatively separate. However, it is known that you are his partner. That’s no secret.

He’s not super into PDA, so it’s no surprise that he refuses to do anything risky or public in anyway.

He will not do it in the kazekage’s office. He has too much respect for it, but he also doesn’t want to get caught anyways.

He’s very intimate during. Slow and sensual for sure.

I can see him being into bondage, but like you get tied up, not him. But… depends. And might take some encouragement.

Refuses to hurt or degrade you for any reason. He only does praise. He could not bring himself to call you names or anything. Or to draw blood from you or hit you, etc. he doesn’t see why those things should be brought into the bedroom for “fun.”

He doesn’t think they’re fun.

He knew like nothing about sex before you. I actually think he’d have no idea how to initiate at first so you definitely initiated it.

I think he’d be the type you have to teach what to do a bit, but he gets the hang of it quickly. Then next time, he’s got every spot memorized.

Awkward. Like the first couple times were awkward, but romantic and cute.

Kankuro of the Sand

One word: kinky.

He likes to degrade you with a shit eating grin on his face. His degradation feels like a compliment most of the time though. Like he calls you a slut and it feels like he’s calling you a prince/princess. It’s confusing.

He’s so good at dirty talk. He’ll have you writhing in your spot, desperate for him and he’s not even touched you yet.

He’s got incredible patience when it comes to you. He takes his time breaking you down into a mess for him.

His face paint would 10 billion percent be smeared across your thighs and chest. Your neck is purple from bites AND his face paint to the point you can’t tell which is which.

Only when you wash off the face paint do you realize he left way too many dark hickeys that’ll probably take at least a week to fade away.

Confront him about this and he’ll just laugh.

Don’t tempt him to leave more, because he will.

He forces you to maintain eye contact when he goes down on you. If you look away for more than like 3 seconds, he give you a little tap as a warning, but twice and he stops.

Orgasm denial for sure. He would be the type to make up an excuse as to why he pulled away. He tells you all sorts of excuses. “You weren’t moaning enough.” “You moved your hips too much. Stay still.” And of course, “you looked away.”

He can make you cum hard almost every single time. You see stars.

The most fun part for him isn’t dicking you down, it’s the breaking you apart and putting you back together again.

Temari of the Sand

Dominant. Dommy mommy for sure.

Even when she decides to “sub” or “bottom,” she’s not doing a good job at it. She’s still telling you what to do, where to move, etc.

She’ll pull your hair, slap you, etc. as long as you are okay with it and want her to.

Loves to boss you around, telling you what she wants. Demanding you to please her.

“Get on your knees”

Head pusher for sure, but you two have a like physical que to let each other know when it’s enough.

All that being said, sometimes she really really just wants sweet, slow sex. Intimate nights filled with nothing but love.

She likes to keep all of this private though. No public or risky stuff.

However, she does like to do it beyond just in bed.

Would be the type to start kissing all over your neck, unbuttoning your shirt while you’re trying to cook breakfast.

You might want to turn the stove off.

[s1m0nth3swag]

Hmmm I’m kinda curious on how Francis would be like as a dom in bed!

Ohhhh definitely!

I feel like Francis def is too tired to dom most times, but omg, when he isn't tired for once....

This was uhm

Harder to write than I thought! It probably really isn't good so I slapped some headcanons at the end to make up for it a little

Tysm for the ask though, Anon!

WARNINGS/ CONTENT INFO; Porn with minimal plot, established relationship, GN!Reader, Dom Francis, Francis has vacation and uses it properly

NSFW UNDER THE CUT!!

If you were serious, you barely know how you ended up in this situation. You started today thinking it'd be just like any other day, your boyfriend coming home really late from work, so you'd have the apartment to yourself until he returned. Contrary to that belief, Francis had instead taken a day of vacation. He had grumbled something about it being long overdue.

From then, you had thought he'd lounge around all day. He'd probably just sleep a bit more, lay on the couch, maybe help out a little with chores - that's where you were wrong again.

Once the two of you had finished the chores around the small apartment, he grabbed you by the hips harshly. "Francis -" you yelped out, but he already pressed his lips against yours in a hungry kiss. If it was up to him, he'd have you right here, in the middle of the hallway. That's just the way Francis was, when he did have the drive to fuck you, he'd barely even think about where.

In the end, you were the one to drag him to the bedroom after he had already pulled off your top and discarded it somewhere. He trailed kisses down your neck and over your collarbone, nipping at the skin softly. "Want you s'bad..." He groaned, grinding his growing erection against your crotch. "Bet you want me too, hm? Can feel how needy you are." He adds, chuckling as he rubs small circles on your waist. You huff and pull him down towards you, kissing him feverishly.

The rest of your clothes are soon discarded - Francis rarely took his time with you. He watched the way you squirmed and whined as he slowly pushed inside you, though. He knew you just wanted to feel him. When it came to teasing, Francis had probably won a gold metal in it at some point. "So good for me, hm? It's always so tight..." he sighs lazily. His hands rest at your hips, pushing you down so you can't grind against him. You whine in protest. "Francis, please.. don't be mean.." You mumble, and he just chuckles as he presses a kiss against your cheek. "Just taking my time, love.. weren't you just complaining about me being too fast?" You scowl at him, but Francis just grins as he keeps pushing into you ever so slowly. Surely, this had to be torture for him as well? If it was, he didn't let it show one bit.

After taking his sweet time, Francis made it up to you by being way too goddamn rough. He practically abused your hole while muttering and groaning praises into your ear. You desperately held onto him, nails scratching his back. "So good, hm..? God, swear you feel heavenly..." Francis groaned into your ear, trailing kisses over your jaw. He placed hickeys and bite marks all over your neck, and you were sure with how he was treating you right now that a few on your thighs would follow soon.

As always, Francis couldn't help but finish inside you after you had reached your climax as well. He watched your slightly fucked out expression and the way his cum slowly flowed out of you, leaving kisses on your thighs, marking you up just like you thought he would. "Always so good for me, baby." He then hummed, placing a soft kiss against your lips while you snuggled against him.

I just really think Francis is a tired man and therefore rarely doms. Just takes too much of his energy.

However, I think he really really loves marking his partner. Like full-on hickeys all over your body, especially your thighs, though (he definitely is a thigh guy). Also very big on praising, though he would degrade you if you asked him to. I just think that in his mind, it's like "in love with my partner, have to tell them how much I appreciate them, especially when I'm literally taking their ability to walk!" Because I just KNOW he likes being rough. He just can't help but love the way your face contorts in pleasure at every thrust.

Francis would also 100% hold you down so he could have his way with you. He'd also slightly choke you because he holds you down by your neck when he wants to watch your reactions (this is totally not because I think that'd be hot. Nah uh.)

Also, I don't really think he is actually that kinky (or he just doesn't know that what he likes is considered a kink because that man has never spoken to anyone about it). I think he always makes sure you cum first, either makes you cum all over again before properly fucking you or denying you an orgasm as he tests how long he can hold one back himself.

Also, with a fem partner, he is so into eating them out. Genuinely obsessed with it.

With a masc partner, I think he'd be the type to touch them while just watching their expressions

he is so big on watching his partner. He just wants to make sure he's making you feel good still, even though he definitely has your favourite spots memorised by heart.

Anyway! Really short omg I'm sorry. I'm currently obsessing over School Bus Graveyard, so uhm! Not many Francis thoughts in my brain. I hope this isn't as bad as it looks to me (it's definitely worse, but I will not be bothered (I will panic about it))

[theereina]

The "Itch"

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Plus Size Fem Black!OC

Wordcount: +2.7K

Warnings: MDNI (18+) mature content, such as cursing, teasing, heavily dialogue-centered, use of Daddy, and other pet names (lil' mama, pretty girl, good boy, etc.), oral (female receiving), fingering, spitting, slight an*l, double penetration/stimulation, spanking, Soft Dom!Terry

A/N¹: This is a single one-shot with no planned sequels. This is my first time focusing on sub-dom, so please be nice.

A/N²: I'm open to critiques. I am a little 🤏🏽 sensitive about my writing. Please, don't be too harsh.🥺 Feel free to bring my attention to any typos. Divider by @firefly-graphics. Also, this work is not to be plagiarized or reposted (on any site other than here on Tumblr). I do NOT give consent for any form of republishing or rewriting.

Masterlist: 🔥🔥🔥

Nadia had gone to bed earlier than usual. She had taken her first Pilates class today and foolishly went to the gym after. Every part of her body ached as a reminder of her session. She loved it, nevertheless. Her fiancé, Terry, had gifted her a 3 month membership at the local Pilates studio. She had shown interest after trying it at home using YouTube videos and equipment from Amazon. Terry had gone out and bought all her equipment and outfits way before her first class was even scheduled. This is why she loved him. His ability to breathe life into her hobbies and invest in her selflessly.

Nadia was lying on her belly with her arm under the pillow. Her hair was braided back into two puffy braids. She had sweated her hair out and was NOT in the mood to even touch it after the gym.

Nadia heard the faint sound of Terry's truck pulling onto the gravel driveway. She tossed in her sleep, facing the window in their upstairs master bedroom. His headlights flashed across the room as he drove closer to the house. She heard the truck come to a stop and the engine cut off. Terry opened and closed the doors of his vehicle collecting his things before walking to the front door. She heard his keys before the front door creaked open. The house went silent as Nadia waited for his presence.

She could hear his footsteps ascending the stairs. Nadia turned to rest on her back. His footsteps were— different. They weren't light and graceful tonight. They carried a nagging weight. A weight Nadia could register from a mile away. Nadia sat up in bed, resting her back against the plush headboard. Her satin gown hung from one shoulder, and she wasn't wearing any underwear as Terry had always requested for bedtime.

She could hear his footsteps moving closer to the bedroom door. They were much louder than normal. Terry opened the bedroom door to find Nadia sitting up waiting for him. He paused to take in the simplicity of her natural beauty. Her natural hair braided back will always be one of his favorite hairstyles on her. It didn't matter if it was messy or professionally done. It made her look like an angel to him. The way the light brown satin gown lay on her glowy brown skin made her look like the finest of chocolates— smooth and sweet. The way that single strap hung off her shoulder slightly exposing the top of her large breast was the icing on the cake for him. He needed his Nadia— his baby girl. The yearning within Terry rose with every second that his gaze lingered on her.

Nadia waited with her hands in her lap while Terry stood in the doorway taking ALL of her in. Terry's eyes reflected the moonlight that glowed through the window. Nadia followed Terry's eyes up her body until they met her's. She nodded and smiled. Terry nodded back.

Terry admired that she was waiting for him without him asking. Terry looked into Nadia’s doe-brown eyes with enough lust to ignite the fire between her legs. Terry approached the bed and patted the edge. Without saying a word, Nadia pulled the covers back and crawled to the foot of the bed. She sat on her knees. She assured that she was close enough to feel Terry's energy but not touch him. She needed permission for that in these situations.

He leaned over and kissed the top of Nadia’s head and her forehead. He cupped her chin in his hand and brought her face to his. His stare was heavy and demanding. He bit his bottom lip before speaking. “Daddy's got an itch, baby girl,” he said kissing Nadia’s lips. Nadia placed her hands in her lap and drew in a breath. “What's your remedy, Daddy?” Nadia said playing with the bottom hem of her gown. It was barely covering halfway past her thick thighs and from the right angle he could definitely see she had followed the no panties rule.

“First, are you okay?” he said placing his hands on the sides of her neck. “Yes, sir. I'm okay,” Nadia replied with a nod of her head. “Alright, baby girl. You okay with Daddy being hands-on during this session?” he asked. “Yes, sir. If hands-on is what Daddy needs, we can begin when he's ready,” Nadia said looking at Terry with the softest eyes.

“Thank you, baby girl. Wait right here, okay?” Terry said, standing up straight. Nadia nodded and looked down at her hands. She watched as Terry's work boots disappeared from her line of sight. She could hear him enter the bathroom. She heard the sink turn on and off. Terry was all about cleanliness whenever possible, so she assumed that he had washed his hands.

Terry returned from the bathroom shirtless and carrying his belt in his hand. “Eyes up,” he demanded. Nadia’s eyes rose to find his. “Are you gonna be a good girl fa’ me?” he asked crossing his arms. Nadia's eyes watched the belt as it rested on his chest. “Yes, Daddy. I promise,” Nadia said softly. “Baby girl, we use our big girl voice in this room!” Terry said shifting his weight to one side. “Sorry. I promise to be a good girl,” Nadia said louder. “Thank you, baby. Turn around. Flatten out. Arms out in front of you. You know how Daddy likes it,” he said while uncrossing his arms and dropping the belt since there was no longer a need to restrain her.

Nadia turned around and put her ass in the air. She flattened her body as much as she could against the mattress, deepening her arch. Her arms stretched ahead towards the headboard with her palms faced down. Her gown instantly rose over her ass, exposing all of her to Terry's hungry gaze.

“That's my girl. Ass up, face down. Remember to breathe,” Terry said inching closer to Nadia's backside. He began to rub and palm her ass cheeks. He pushed her gown up further so that it was around her waist. “Do you remember Daddy's rules?” Terry asked massaging her lower back. “Rule number one: count out loud. If I don't and Daddy can't hear it, it doesn't count. Rule number two: keep my hands to myself. That includes keeping them off of Daddy and me. Rule number three: Daddy doesn't like quiet bitches. He wants to hear me. Rule number four: Don't interrupt Daddy while he's having fun. Rule number five: I am a princess and slut. Act like it!” Nadia called out the list with pride as a smile spread across Terry's face.

Terry was a soft dom. He had no interest in being “hard”. He liked things light and playful, yet sexy and spicy. Nadia’s words carried more weight than his needs. “No” meant “no”, and he didn't believe in coercion. Nadia's answers were final. That's why check-ins and consent were so important to him. He would never make her do anything she didn't want to. Even if Nadia desired to do it to please him, it made him uncomfortable. In Terry's mind, this was really Nadia's playroom, and he was just the keeper.

“Ready, love?” Terry asked adjusting himself between her legs. His thighs rested against the edge of the bed. Nadia nodded. Terry cupped her chin and turned her face towards him. He raised an eyebrow at her. “Sorry. Yes, sir. I'm ready,” she said turning her head back to face the headboard. He pushed her lower back down gently and angled her ass higher. He wanted to see all of her.

From this angle, Terry could see her pussy already beginning to glisten. He palmed her ass with one hand as he slid his fingers in between the lips of her pussy grazing her clit over and over again. Nadia let out a soft moan. Terry slid two fingers inside her pussy. “Does baby girl want a reward? I think you earned one. Daddy didn't even have to tell you to be waiting. Do you know how that makes Daddy feel, baby girl?” Terry said pushing his fingers in slowly. Nadia moaned and began clenching her fists.

“Like the king he is,” Nadia said lifting her head. She wanted to make sure Terry heard her. “That's right, princess. Good girl,” Terry said as he began to slowly fingerfuck Nadia. He curved his fingers upward aiming for her g-spot. Nadia clenched around his fingers. “Is that where my baby wants it?” Terry said working his fingers against the same spot over and over. “Yes, Daddy!” Nadia moaned out. “If that's what my baby wants, that's what she gets,” Terry grunted. His fingers began to pick up speed. Nadia’s body jerked forward slightly pushing Terry's fingers out. “Noted,” Terry said in a low grumble.

That meant Nadia had made a mistake. An amount was added to whatever Terry decided— spankings, orgasms, denials, etc. With her in this position, she was adamant that a spanking was happening shortly. “Sorry, sir!” Nadia blurted out. Terry tapped her lower back, letting her know he at least acknowledged her apology. There was no such thing as deductions.

Nadia could feel herself approaching her climax. This orgasm was going to be a strong one. She could feel Terry shift behind her. Terry leaned his head down and opened his mouth letting saliva fall onto Nadia’s pussy. He removed his fingers and dragged them down towards her clit. He began to use the pads of his fingers to rub her swollen clit. He pushed the thumb from the same hand into her pussy.

He leaned over to glance at the side of Nadia's face. Her bottom lip was stuck between her teeth. “Your reward,” Terry announced. He dragged the thumb from his other hand over her asshole and pressed lightly. He knew that one of Nadia's biggest kinks was double penetration/stimulation. Nadia’s moans immediately grew louder. Terry pressed his thumb into her asshole a little more, passing the rim. Nadia began fisting the bedsheets in front of her. A smile spread across Terry's face. He loved it when she reacted like this. Terry began making small circular motions with his thumb still inside her.

His other hand was still playing with her pussy. “For being such a good girl, you can cum whenever you like,” Terry said quickening the pace of his hands. He needed Nadia to cum hard. He loved making her orgasm. “Daddy, I'm close!” Nadia whimpered loudly. “I know baby. I can feel it. Can you let Daddy have it? Let it out, baby,” Terry cooed. It was as if that was all it took for Nadia's pussy to explode. She came all over Terry's hand that was covering her pussy. He rubbed her clit faster pushing her orgasm out.

Terry smiled at the moans Nadia was releasing as each one egged him on. “That's my baby. You did all that for Daddy,” he said leaning down and kissing up her spine. With each kiss, Nadia released more small moans. “Fuck!” she yelled out.

Terry leaned back up. He watched as she came down and leveled her breathing. “It's time, princess,” Terry said massaging Nadia’s lower back with both hands. She quickly repositioned herself. “Good girl. Ready?” Terry said flexing his fingers. “Yes, Daddy. I'm ready,” she replied closing her eyes. She had learned that anticipating the hits made them hurt worse. She loosened her hips and spread her legs a little more. She liked when his hits got a little wild and struck her pussy just a little.

“Begin,” Terry announced.

smack

“One!”

smack

“Two!”

smack

“Three!”

smack

“Four!”

After every couple of smacks, Terry would gently massage Nadia’s ass cheeks. Once they were past fifteen, Nadia’s pussy was aching again.

smack

“Sixteen!”

smack

“Seventeen!”

smack

“Eighteen!”

Nadia was feeling the throb of every hit. She knew that she was welting or bruising by now.

smack

“Nineteen!”

smack

“Twenty!”

“Last one for your earlier indiscretion!” Terry called out.

smack

“Twenty-one!” Nadia whimpered again. Her hands were lost in the tangled sheets she had been fisting.

“That's my girl. Breathe,” Terry said taking notice of Nadia's pussy clenching on nothing. “You need something?” Terry asked stroking her clit again. “I'm so close, Daddy. Make me cum again, please!” Nadia screamed. She moaned as soon as Terry's fingers slipped inside of her again.

Terry leaned over and placed his free hand on Nadia's waist. He pulled closer to him while fingerfucking her pussy. He got down on his knees behind her on the floor. Using nothing but his flattened tongue he licked from her pussy to her asshole. His fingers left her pussy and found her clit again. He pointed his tongue and inserted it into her wet pussy. He moved his head back and forth while his tongue was inside her, thrusting into her like he was searching for her orgasm.

He wanted her to cum on his face, and he wanted it now. He pressed harder on her clit while continuing to pad it with his fingertips. His tongue went into overdrive. He wiggled his tongue along her walls as far as he could reach. Nadia was screaming now. “Daddy! Oh, fuck. I'm…ahh. Please, I'm…ughhh!” Nadia yelled. Her juices squirted out of her and flooded Terry's open mouth. He held his mouth over her catching everything he could. He licked over her entrance over and over again.

Once he was finished, he stood up from behind Nadia. He tapped her lower back before speaking again, “Turn over, baby.” Nadia flipped over so that she was on her back. Terry leaned down and grabbed her hands. “I love you, baby girl. You know that?” Terry asked, smiling down at her. “Yes, Daddy. I love you, too!” Nadia said panting.

Terry leaned over her body and began kissing all over her chest and neck, causing her to giggle. “I’ll take care of you in the bathroom and before you go back to bed. For now, rest. Okay, love?” Terry said locking eyes with her. His gaze was much softer now. Those greenish hazel eyes were gleaming. “Yes, sir,” Nadia answered leaning up to peck Terry on the lips.

Terry rose from the bed and walked into the bathroom. She heard the bath turn on. She could hear him searching through cabinets, opening and closing each one. “Eucalyptus or lavender?!” Terry yelled from the bathroom. “Both!” Nadia yelled back. She placed her hands on her chest and closed her eyes. This was the most intense session she and Terry had done in a while.

Returning to the bedroom, Terry walked into their closet and grabbed two towels and her robe taking them into the bathroom. “Ready, baby?” Terry asked walking back out. “Yes, sir,” Nadia said letting out a yawn. “Tired?” “I was asleep when you came,” she said as Terry picked her up bridal style. “Sorry for waking you up,” he said kissing her forehead. “You can wake me up like this anytime you want!” Nadia laughed as they entered the bathroom. The steam rose from the bath. She could smell the essential oils he used. “Mmm,” she let out, taking a deep breath.

Terry put her down and stepped into the tub first. He held out his hand to guide her in. “Thank you,” she said. She sat down first with him sitting behind her. His back rested against the edge of the large Jacuzzi tub. Bubbles were beginning to cover their bodies. Terry reached around Nadia to turn off the faucet. He grabbed her by the waist and pulled her flush to him. “Thank you, my love,” he said kissing her lips. “Anytime,” she said sinking back into his chest.

Taglist: @avoidthings @brattyfics @persethegawd @keyaho @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @theglamclosetsl @nayaesworld @ariiijestertheklown

@androgynousgaz @insidefeelingofanadult @blyffe @mymindisneverhere @writingsbytee @revealingco @pocketsizedpanther @creartivefairy @disc0fairy @uzumaki-rebellion

@planetblaque @kindofaintrovert @notapradagurl7 @vivaalenaa @5headsupremacist @slutsareteacherstoo @gg-trini

@beenathembo @babybratzmaraj @sageispunk @gwenda-fav @blowmymbackout @megamindsecretlair

@helloncrocs @chasingsunlight

[wandasaura]

YOU ARE IN LOVE

summary — after a long day spent on the beach with your girlfriends, wanda and natasha’s love is loud enough to hear in the silence of your bedroom

warning(s) — established relationship, married wandanat, dom/sub dynamics, domestic dominance, mommy kink, daddy kink, exploration of subspace in nonsexual situations, fluff galore, fainest appearance of bratty reader, warning spank, wanda taunting natasha, hot mommy wanda in a bikini, sexy daddy nat on the beach in a bikini, dare i say more?

authors note — i combined like six different requests for this, so it’s quite a bit longer than my other summer oneshot! also, i can’t believe how perfectly this title fit a soft little moment written towards the end, it wasn’t planned at all but the full circle moment is beyond fulfilling!

The thin flamingo pink straps of your favorite summertime bathing suit made elegant crosses against your back whenever you allowed the unrelenting August sun to fall against you intimately. They were intricate enough that Wanda spent most nights tracing the evidence of once fairer skin with soft fingers, hot breath fanning tantalizingly across the nape of your neck as she spooned you in bed, but still simple enough that the lacy top didn’t take any more than a few seconds to slip on while dashing to get ready and meet them by the front door before Wanda came up to find you herself. The vibrant bathing suit that had been purchased by Natasha brought out a spark in your eyes that was addictive, and frequently you found yourself reaching for it whenever a pool day had been declared by your girlfriends. 

Today, Natasha had decided to do something different, and like many others that had fallen into the cycle of outdoor activities while the warmth of summertime lasted, you found yourself submerged in the waters of the Atlantic,  granules of coarse sand embedded throughout your scalp while the aroma of salt air captivating your senses. The rush of people had died down since late June and early July, leaving mostly locals around you as you frolicked and splashed through the waves that crashed against your back. Droplets of water clung to your skin, creating racetracks and mazes out of your arms and belly as you bobbed in and out of the waist deep water, only tracking the location of your girlfriends sporadically when you thought you’d drifted too far in another direction. 

Up higher on the beach, surrounded by granules of sand the color of a perfectly roasted marshmallows – in your opinion at least, Natasha was a freak who liked her smores black and charred – Wanda and Natasha on their bellies, their arms folded beneath their heads as they pleaded with the sun to allow them even an ounce of golden color to bear through the early weeks of approaching fall. Wanda had been more fortunate than Natasha in the months leading up to this impromptu outing, bearing a gorgeous bronze sheen against her limbs and face, while Natasha had burnt to a crisp within minutes despite every technique she’d tried to use. It was endearing, but desperately you wanted them out here with you. You’d spent three hours building sandcastles and pouring sand over Wanda’s feet whenever she’d explicitly told you not to do that, but eventually she’d sent you off to the water when your relentless energy grew to be too much to handle all at once. 

You weren’t sure how long you’d been out in the depths of the ocean for, diving into waves and body surfing back to shore whenever you grew tired of keeping yourself afloat, but as the sun faded farther into the horizon, you knew that at least a considerable amount of time had elapsed since Wanda sent you off to burn off some restless energy. With one final somersault into a massive wave, you trudged back up the expanse of sandy shorelines, marveling at the the endless abyss of blue that stretched on for miles above you. The cloudless sky had been a rarity in recent days, unpredictable sun showers and thunderstorms wreaking havoc on Westview like many other neighboring towns in New Jersey, but today had been a yearned for glimpse of peace that thankfully wasn’t quite over yet, and while you would absolutely never admit it, you were glad that Natasha had woken you up sweetly at seven in the morning instead of letting you sleep like you’d demanded. 

Your girlfriends were easy to spot, the large blue and tan umbrella one of the only ones that littered the shorelines. There was an endless array of color schemes spread across the beach, so much so that it was honestly an eyesore, but Wanda and Natasha had always preferred simpler things, and a refined palette of baby blues and muted tans made up most of their beach equipment. Everything had been custom made by a small boutique just a few blocks away; from their towels, chairs, umbrellas, down to the cooler packed with crisp waters and hard seltzer, it was all the same palette, which only made spotting two redheads on a beach full of bottle blondes and brunettes easier. 

When you reached them, water dripping off your frame as the wind blew and developed you in a gentle chill, you made sure that you stood directly over top of Wanda, not only blocking her back from the sun, but getting her wet in the process. You grinned cheekily down at her, kicking sand up at Natasha’s ankles when the fleeting thought of her being left out crept up on you. The russian cursed beneath her breath, turning over to send you a very pointed glare, only to be ignored as you continued to grin down at Wanda, who refused to budge despite your ministrations. 

“Mommy!” You whined when you didn’t get your way, shuffling your feet against the sand in a petulant fit, though her head was still burrowed into her arms as she lounged against the thick blue and tan towel that you decided now was your worst enemy. Your own head was fuzzy and light as a result of her constant babying since leaving the house that morning, having apparently discussed taking you out in subspace with Natasha while you were upstairs taking forever to get ready. Since that first time you’d gone to the aquarium and explored the limits of their dominance and your willingness to submit, you’d found an easy comfort in their domestic control, and that didn’t falter for a second even on a crowded beach. You trusted them, and more importantly, they trusted themselves to steer you clear into a blissful haze of intimate submission without pushing you too far over the edge and sending you into a drop. So much of their effortless love and careful time had been poured into shaping your trust, it felt like another lifetime ago when Wanda had been the very thing you aimed all of your fears and insecurities at, but now she was the one thing that you wanted so unabashedly that you weren’t above throwing a fit in public to get it. 

You screeched in startled shock when she abruptly turned onto her back, emerald eyes narrowed into thin, unamused daggers before she was reaching up and grabbing your wrists, pulling you down firmly on top of her, hardly caring that your wet body made an impression against her own dry bathing suit. She was planning on getting in the water with you anyways, so the evidence of your frame against her front was hardly of any significance. You whined in shameful embarrassment when her palm crashed down against your ass in a strike of pointed warning, the initial clap of contact thankfully drowned out by incessant seagulls that swarmed a nearby tent where french fries had been spilled by a toddler. For a moment, you focused on how her skin was warm beneath your body, your mind already melting away into peaceful contentment now that you had her arms around your waist, but you were brought back to the chaos of the beach when her lips ghosted along the shell of your ear, her breath heavy and warm as it swirled around your skin. “You throw a fit and we go home. Is that how you want today to go, little one?” 

You whined, shaking your head while a tear-filled expression came over your once radiant features. You absolutely did not want to go home, you were having so much fun pretending to be both a fishie and a mermaid, you’d begged Natasha all summer to take you down to the beach for a full day of activities and fun, but she’d denied your request every time because of the unrelenting crowd of rude tourists that gathered in Westview like clockwork each year. You didn’t want to lose all of this prematurely, so you mumbled a meek apology and hid your face within Wanda’s neck, on the verge of tears that she’d admittedly seen coming. 

Her hand rubbed your back soothingly, a weighted presence that brought a comforting peace over you easily, and comfortably you turned your head to look at the villages of sandcastles you’d built at the start of your adventure. Your fingers, ever unable to remain still, wandered over to the ones that were closest around you in disheveled clumps of beige, gravity having pulled them down over the hours that you’d spent in the water. Natasha’s castles still looked the best beside yours and Wandas, irritatingly so, and without restraint you smashed your palm down against her tallest one, careful not to damage the seashells that had she’d so carefully pressed into the dry sand around it, but effectively bringing a calamitous end to her quaint kingdom. Wanda’s disapproval was not so quietly delivered upon you, and disapprovingly she gripped your chin between slender digits, her glare unwavering and able to easily undo you. A strained whimper fell off of your tongue, the sound soft and meek, reflective of your sensitive headspace that despite its newfound edge of brattiness, both she and Natasha adored. 

“What is with the attitude?” Her voice is thin, edged with guarded dominance that has you whimpering and searching aimlessly for protection from Natasha, but the Russian at your side is in no mood to help you out, equally as curious as Wanda, and she merely narrows her gaze in pointed waiting as she nods just slightly back at her wife. You let out a soft grunt, teary eyes blinking up at your girlfriend as you attempt to press your face into her neck in embarrassed shame, but her fingers keep you still, only loosening when she feels your muscles go rigid with emotions you have no way to verbalize so far into a state of submissive bliss. “I thought you were going to be a good girl for Mommy.” She coos tenderly, shifting her approach as she watches you try to formulate a coherent answer to her previous question, effectively rousing yourself from that delicious state of bliss she’d worked tirelessly to bring forth. 

“Be a good girl for Mommy.” You mumbled, a soft pout pulling your lips downward as you stared deep into the kaleidoscope of greens that made up her dazzling emerald eyes. There was no easy color for her eyes to claim, but the glimmering appeal of a deep emerald hue was the most accurate, and a ring that typically adorned her slender fingers beside her engagement ring was a sparkling ring with a pristinely cut emerald that you had gotten her for her birthday. “Ring gone.” Your pout deepened when your realized that the chill of metal that typically came with her hands on your face was missing, and the gleam of sunlight catching jewels was absent as well. 

Wanda smiled softly, peppering your face in kisses that distracted you from your lapse in sadness. “Mommy left them at home so they’d be safe. Just like we left your ring at home, remember, sweetheart?” She laughed softly, brushing the pads of her thumbs against your sun kissed cheeks, softly tsking when she noticed just how pink you’d become since venturing down to the water. “I think somebody needs more sunscreen.” 

“No!” You whined sharply in adamant protest, wriggling away from her chest in a futile attempt to avoid the reapplication of her coconut scented sunscreen all together, but again she held you tightly to her chest, and again she tutted in disapproval. 

“Behave.” She warned lowly, accent seeping into the single uttered word. You whined, kicking your feet petulantly against the granules of sand that had been tickling your skin since she’d initially pulled you down onto her. “Malyshka, Mommy has to put sunscreen on you. She doesn’t want her little duckling to burn.” The added emphasis of her finger gently pressing against the tip of your nose did little to convince you, but the smallest part of your brain that still had the ability to think rationally warned you that there was no use in putting up a fight. 

“Daddy do.” You negotiated, knowing that at the very least, Natasha wouldn’t take the time to tease your already sensitive body like Wanda would, and did. She’d had you a blubbering mess of desperation before you left the house, her fingers having slipped beneath the fabric of your bathing suit on more than one occasion in a manner that was painfully suggestive. 

Wanda rolled her eyes fondly, shrugging you off of her body and toward Natasha who was trying her best to muffle her amused laughter as she watched you with fondness etched into her soft mesmerizing eyes. If Wanda’s eyes were impossible to name, hers were forbidden. There was no color in the world that would ever even come close to the colors that swirled within her eyes each day, constantly changing as landscapes and outfits did. The sun had dried you almost entirely since you’d abandoned the high tides of the midday Atlantic, but still a towel was run over your limbs and exposed belly before Natasha smeared the dreaded white lotion across her palms, warming it up before she even tried to touch your skin, having learned from Wanda’s mistake that morning. You wriggled impatiently, huffed and whined throughout the entire process, but you let her do it, so neither she nor Wanda reprimanded your attitude. 

“Now was that really so bad, utenok?” Natasha laughed teasingly, kissing the tip of your sunkissed nose affectionately before she turned toward the beach bag laid upright on the sand a few inches back from the towels, shaded by the umbrella that was practically useless as none of you had spent even a minute beneath its provided shade.  

“Don’t like.” You grumbled, sinking into Wanda’s lap when the Sokovian finally sat upright on her own towel, abandoning her plans of sunbathing, instead, patting her thighs in a wholesome invitation to cuddle properly. 

“I know you don’t like it, you make that very clear.” She mused softly against your hairline, tangling her fingers into the straps of your bathing suit, taking a peak at the tanlines that had darkened considerably since you’d first stepped foot outside. “What do you say we go play in the water some more while Daddy gets you an ice cream?” 

“Ice cream?” You perked up, eyes shining brightly beneath the sun at the mention of your favorite summer treat. You’d made it your mission to try every ice cream parlor in Westview, and being a beach town with an ample amount of tourism during the warmer months of the year, there were plenty to go through. You’d nearly completed the list, all that remained was the small shop toward the front of the beach, where the line was almost always wrapped around the building. 

“Yes, baby, ice cream. I told you we’d get a treat, didn’t I?” Wanda laughs at your excitement, eyes sparkling with elation as she reveled in the simple moments that were coming to a rushed end. In only a couple of weeks you’d be back at school, no longer living on campus but still away from home for hours upon hours in the already limited day, and to fill that time alone both she and Natasha would dive back into work. They’d delegated the minor tasks to trusted employees to spend the utmost amount of time with you as possible while they could, and as nice as it had been to take a much needed break and focus on their personal lives, they were itching to get back into the office, handling everything by themselves like they’d been doing for years since starting their own company. “What kind do you want?” 

“Strawberry! With peanut butter sauce and hot fudge!” The grin that split your lips was wide and so addictive, Wanda couldn’t help but allow her eyes to dance between your eyes alight with soft affection and your smile twinged with golden joy. You were the epitome of ethereal, lounging against her chest in a bathing suit that left little to the imagination, but still you looked so wholesome with your ass out for the residents of Westview to see, granules of sand clinging to your spankable cheeks. 

“Oh yes, how silly of me. I should’ve known.” She teases, because truthfully, she should’ve. You ordered the same thing all summer, and when Natasha suggested you try something else, knowing a handful of spots in Westview had signature flavors that tourists traveled just to get, you’d pouted and outright refused saying that was just as bad as you going around kissing other women. Wanda had spanked you for that, assuring that you remembered your place and that nobody could ever please you like she and Natahsa could. Still, you didn’t get a different flavor. “My little strawberry monster!” Wanda attacked your neck with kisses, her laughter mixing with yours as Natasha stood behind you both, phone out, capturing the sight of the both of you so entangled with love. 

“One strawberry ice cream for the little one, and what will you be having, Wands?” Natasha’s eyes glimmered beneath the sun, her red locks practically ablaze beneath the harsh kiss of daylight. She looked like something straight out of a portrait, but you doubted any artist could replicate her beauty by any standards.

“A bomb pop.” Was Wanda’s answer, and without any further questions, Natasha began the long walk up the beach, growing smaller and smaller as she left you behind. You waved at her retreating frame, hopeful that she’d sense your affection and turn to wave back, but it never came, and tearfully you turned your gaze to Wanda, eyes wide and glimmering with feelings that were all the more powerful in your blissful state of submission. She kissed your pout away affectionately, tapping your thighs thoughtfully. “What do you say you show Mommy what you were doing in the water, huh? Should we go down and explore while we wait for Daddy?” 

“Want Daddy to come back.” You pouted, the sudden reminder of Natasha’s absence falling heavily on your sensitive heart. Wanda smiled sympathetically, caressing your cheeks with delicate affection. 

“Daddy will be back soon, my little love. Come on, up you get.” Wanda gently eased you off of her lap, taking your hand in hers the second her feet were planted on the hot sand. She grimaced slightly, unprepared for the coarse granules to be so warm beneath the soles of her feet, but she didn’t let it deter her. Instead, it only hastened her speed, and you giggled as she pulled you along the beach, weaving in and out of families and couples that lingered on the shorelines. 

You must’ve been down in the water for nearly an hour and a half, splashing at Wanda and diving into her chest whenever a wave rolled through and rocked you into her, the sun truly beginning to fall beneath the tide now and turn the sky a breathtaking sight of divine orange and sweet pink around you. Your hair was a tousled mess on top of your head, held out of your face by a hair tie that was surely knotted in place by now. The Sokovian would have to meticulously untangle it before you fell into bed, but that was always something she adored doing, and you enjoyed it just as much. You whined when her playful ministrations came to an abrupt end, her fingers no longer digging into your ribs as she tickled you in the waist deep water that splashed and lapped at your upper torso. Her eyes had been searching the shorelines for any sign of Natasha since you’d ventured into the abyss of salt water, but now they narrowed in on one thing, something that you hadn’t noticed just yet. 

When you did notice, Wanda’s soft fingers tilting your head in the direction of the beige and blue umbrella, you booked it to shore without so much as a glance back at her. Natasha had seen your attack coming from a mile away, and had somehow been prepared for it when your body crashed into hers, your lips, soft from the granules of sand that you had face planted into a couple of times, peppering kisses on any inch of exposed skin that you could reach. She laughed, pulling you away only to connect your lips in a soft embrace. When Wanda caught up to you, you’d piled in on the towels, eating ice cream as you watched the sun fall further and further beneath the blanket of endless murky blue water. The shorelines of Jersey weren’t marvelously blue like the coast of Florida or the Maldives, but they were perfect for the simple moments you yearned to share with both Wanda and Natasha. 

When ice creams were finished, yours the last to be scraped clean of soft pink goodness, Wanad had forced you still as she wiped off your face and hands, softly reprimanding you as you whined and tried to wiggle away. How you’d gotten ice cream on both your cheeks and your nose, she wasn’t entirely sure because she had watched you use a spoon the entire time, but still your face was sticky and she doted on you lovingly all while Natasha began to pack away all of your belongings. 

You’d walked to the beach, pulling along a little cart that held the umbrella and the beach bag and cooler, and that morning it hadn’t seemed like a far stretch, but as darkness covered Westview entirely and the long day of playing and vulnerability caught up with you, it felt endless. When you finally passed Agatha’s house, your feet dragging against the sidewalk as you held onto Naasha’s hand firmly (well more like she held onto you because you had a tendency to wander off anytime something caught your attention), your were absolutely certain that it  had probably been at least twenty years, although Wanda would say it had only been twenty minutes and that was only because you kept stopping to whine and complain about being sleepy before Natasha started dragging you along again. 

When you slipped inside of the house, the airconditioning sent a shiver down your side, and instinctively you stepped closer to Natasha, seeking out the warmth of her sun kissed body. Natasha hums, smiling softly down at you, taking in the sight of your pink cheeks and tired smiles. Wanda had pulled the cart into the garage to be dealt with tomorrow, and when she returned, she merely grabbed both yours and Natasha’s hands and guided you upstairs, where pajamas were picked out, and towels for the shower were grabbed. The water was warm as it cascaded down your body, and Wanda’s fingers were soft as she rubbed soap against your skin and scrubbed sand from your hair. Natasha stayed clinging to you whenever Wanda wasn’t working on getting you clean, only fully separating when she wanted to be the one to rub strawberry scented body wash across her wifes body. It was a soft encounter, one full of delicate praise and affection, and slowly they were easing you deeper down, farther than they’d done that morning before you set off for the shore. 

Miraculously, the pajamas you’d picked for bed were a matching set, and one of your very own. The button up top was a soft blue color, printed with dusty white clouds and the smallest yellow duckling embroidered on the bottom left side. Natasha had done that for you one night, wanting to practice her skills, and while it was rather wonky and a little unproportional, you loved rubbing your fingers over the stitches as you fell asleep. She and Wanda had on the same style set, although Wanda’s were black and Natasha’s were a deep olive green. They matched in their own ways, and you couldn’t help but feel like they were so indicative of your differing personalities. 

Wanda had you sit at the vanity so she could brush out your hair and get it braided for you, all while Natasha rambled on the other side of the room, telling you and Wanda about the woman that had stood in front of her at the ice cream parlor and had decided to sample every single flavor, only to not get anything and walk out with a fuss. Wanda laughed, but you were too sleepy to really pay attention, your head falling backwards until it landed against her sternum delicately, your eyes closed and your breathing light as she secured the last braid together. 

“Come on, sweetheart. Lets get you all comfy in bed.” She cooed softly, not giving you a second to protest before she was guiding you to the bed that Natasha was already laying in. You crawled into the middle, your head falling onto the Russian’s chest with practiced ease before your hand reached out to hold onto Wanda’s. “Get comfy, baby. Mommy’s right here.” 

“Mommy.” You mumbled, eyes barely open, head resting heavily on Natasha’s chest as you listened to the rhythmic beating of her heart. 

“Shh, sleep baby. Mommy will be here tomorrow.” Wanda gently laid her other hand on your belly, her thumb slipping between the buttons that fastened your top, rubbing soft circles on your skin. It was only a handful of minutes before you were asleep, soft sighs slipping off of your lips as you snuggled closer to her warmth. 

“Such a Mommy’s girl.” Natasha laughed softly, brushing her thumb against your cheek before Wanda swatted her hand away, not wanting her soft affection to wake you up already. 

“You should’ve seen the near meltdown she had when you left for ice cream. I’d say you have yourself a little Daddy’s girl too. She just likes to push my buttons more than yours.” Wanda snorted softly, twisting onto her side, slowly pulling her hand off of your belly to instead intertwine her fingers with Natasha’s. 

“Oh don’t I know it. I can’t say I blame her either.” Natasha’s smirk was taunting, and Wanda rolled her eyes fondly. 

“Watch yourself, detka. There are plenty of other rooms in this house where I can remind you of who’s in charge. Or, maybe I should just take you here and make you be quiet. After all, I would hate to leave you unsatisfied if your desperate moans were to wake her up.” Wanda warned whimsically, and Natasha’s cheeks, already pink from the sun, grew crimson, her sudden silence a telling feature of her submission. “That’s what I thought.” Wanda tutted, getting her own body comfortable on the large bed you shared. 

“I love you.” Natasha whispered into the silence, her thumb rubbing patterns on Wanda’s cold hand. 

“I love you.” Wanda whispered back before she turned her attention to you, peacefully sleeping, unaware of the banter that happened over your head. “I love you, moya utenok.”

[eff4freddie]

Play With Her

Explicit - 18+ Minors DNI

A sequel to Play With It

Words: 4k

You and Joel have fond memories of the last time he called you from work. But a slight misunderstanding leads to some fun with your neighbour, and to you ( accidentally) fulfilling one of Joel’s secret fantasies.

Warnings: SMUT, people. So much. Smut. Oral (m and f receiving), phone sex, mmf (kinda), Joel talks his girl through it like a gentleman, surprise Frankie, Joel’s a little shocked but he is very into it, voyeurism, exhibitionism, dirty talk, Joel being kinda soft dom again.

You hadn’t forgotten Joel’s antics in his car in the middle of a workday, but despite a particularly explosive afternoon immediately following, you hadn’t had the time to properly get him back. It hadn’t been either of your faults, just that work continued to be relentless, something went wrong at the site, materials weren’t delivered, the vendors got mad. You developed a little twitch in your eyelid. Joel came home rubbing his neck and shoulders and turning the kitchen upside down trying to find the heat pack.

You knew there was love there, that there was passion. You weren’t worried about it, even though you missed him. You knew that it was situational. When the air cleared, you’d get back to taking each other apart.

--

Joel woke up early again, groaning as his muscles ached like they hadn’t had any rest at all. You were in bed beside him, and he knew that you’d had a late shift but you’d managed to rack up enough overtime that today you had the whole day to yourself. He was so proud of you, his little worker bee, and even though he was disappointed your schedules hadn’t aligned so that he could enjoy the day with you, or on top of you, he still knew it was good for you. He left a little note on your bedside, telling you he was gonna call around lunchtime. He marked it with two x’s and two o’s. For a second he imagined actually peppering your skin with kisses.

‘Soon, baby,’ he said, to your sleeping form. He was quiet in his socks on the carpet as he left.

On the way out the door, piece of toast between his teeth, he looked over the front lawn. It was getting out of control, and he’d been meaning to cut it, but he just couldn’t find the energy on a weekend, and as the days were gettin’ shorter as the weather changed, he was leaving in the dark, home in the dark. He didn’t like the look of the lawn, worried that the state of the grass was a direct reflection of the state of his aging body, of his bone-deep fatigue most days. That the neighbours would twig he was getting older, purely by the weeds spreading their tendrils over the path to the door.

‘Morning, Joel,’ he heard a voice call, and he glanced over to next door’s patio, where one such neighbour was standing with the newspaper in his hands.

‘Frankie,’ he said, nodding his head. He got on well with Frankie, even if he wasn’t 100% sure he trusted him all the time. He had a kid he had over every other weekend, who Sarah adored, and other than that he lived alone. Ex-military, he reminded Joel of Tommy, and he tried to be sensitive knowing some of the shit he must have seen. He didn’t seem lonely, he was handy and knew how to get Joel’s truck going when the engine was on the fritz, and more than anything he treated you respectful, tipped his cap when you walked by, and Joel liked that. Appreciated the manners.

‘Early start,’ Frankie said, and Joel sighed. He rested a hand on his hip.

‘Too early,’ he grunted, and the younger man smiled knowingly at him. As Joel moved to the truck he limped a little, his hip bothering him after he carried some lumber the wrong way on the site a few days ago.

‘You ok?’ Frankie asked. Frankie noticed everything, Joel knew. It would have kept him alive in his last job, he supposed.

‘Yeah, just gettin’ old, getting’ tired.’ Joel nodded to the lawn. ‘Can’t you tell?’

‘Could help you with that, got the day clear today and…well, don’t have other plans.’

Joel had seen Frankie out on his back porch drinking on his own, sometimes with a couple of other men who all looked a similar age, similar previous occupations. He didn’t mind so long as they kept it down and didn’t catch your eye too much.

‘Can’t ask ya for that,’ Joel started, but Frankie waved him away.

‘You’re not. I’m offering, hermano.’

Joel nodded. It might be a nice surprise for you, he thought, to have the house reclaim some of its street appeal. Lord knew it didn’t have much to start with.

Sitting in his truck he fired off a quick message to you so you wouldn’t be surprised by Frankie on your front lawn. ‘Organised a sruprise 4 you, baby xxoo,’ he wrote. He was going to be late. He sent it without too much thought.

--

You woke, lifting your arms up over your head and listening to the pops of your joints as the stretch moved up your spine. You couldn’t remember the last time you had a day off. You had no idea what you were going to do with your spare time.

After a second or two of blissful cotton-headedness, you noticed a droning sound from the front of the house. You stood on achy knees and padded over to the window. Surely Joel hadn’t taken the day off too, with the worksite being so crazy lately?

You sucked in a tight little breath when you saw him. Shirtless, with his curls poking out the side of his ballcap, pushing his lawnmower over your unruly grass in the late-morning sun. You scrabbled for your phone to check the time and also to try and orient yourself, to make sure you hadn’t accidentally fallen through a wormhole in your sleep, as though Siri would be able to tell you one way or the other.

You saw the message from Joel. A surprise? You glanced around the room, looking for any clues. Eventually your eyes fell on a scrap of paper on your bedside, and you read that, too. For a second you stood, confused, trying to put the pieces together. He had organised a surprise, there was a half-naked man on your lawn, and he was going to call you at lunchtime. And you remembered exactly what transpired the last time he did that.

Your felt your brows shoot up to your hairline as realisation dawned. Did he know you’d had a crush on Frankie since the moment he’d moved in next door? How could he know, you’d been so careful not to stare too long, not to smile too much. You’d felt the sparks, and you’d poured cold water of them well enough, you’d thought.

But nothing got past Joel. You couldn’t believe it, but also you definitely could.

A surprise for you? No. This time you were going to be one step ahead.

--

Joel didn’t like to eat his lunch in the truck, never fully able to get the tang of egg salad out of the upholstery after, but this time he made an exception. He’d pulled back around to where it was quiet, knowing some of the guys on site liked to pump the tunes during their breaks, set up a little jerry-rigged tailgate to try and while away the 40 minutes they had to themselves. He thought with a shiver about the last time he’d snuck off to park somewhere quiet. He let himself wonder for a moment if you’d be up for something like a repeat. He grinned a little as he dialled. He didn’t think he should push his luck.

The call connected almost straight away, like you’d been waiting for him, and he felt a little flutter in his heart. You were so sweet to him. He needed to take you out somewhere special soon, make you flutter for a little while.

‘Hey baby,’ you said, your voice high and breathy, and he guessed you were still in bed.

‘Hey, sleepyhead,’ he said, teasin’ you.

‘Mmm,’ you said, ‘no cameras this time?’

‘We can if you want, baby, but I was just calling to check in on ya.’

‘Oh?’

‘Yeah, and to make sure Frankie’s doing his job,’ he said, chuckling a little.

‘Frankie’s doing just fine,’ you said, and you sounded weird somehow, maybe a little out of breath?

‘You ok, baby?’ he asked, and you hummed in response.

‘Wanna see you,’ you said, and he felt a shiver up the base of his spine. He knew that tone. He felt the smirk appear on his face.

‘Yeah, you sound like ya do,’ he said. He took the phone from his ear and connected Facetime. He heard you doing the same.

He wasn’t sure what he was expecting to see. He’d assumed you were in bed, so he was surprised to see you were up, standing in front of the big picture window overlooking the front lawn. Your cheeks were a little flushed, and you looked a little sweaty. He wondered if you’d been for a run.

‘There’s my girl,’ he said, because the sight of you always lit something up in him, and you smiled at him, a coy little thing.

‘I got a surprise for you,’ you said, a dimple appearing on your cheek as you arched a single brow at him.

‘Oh yeah?’ he said, feeling his cock stir. Maybe you were up for a repeat after all.

‘Mmmhmm,’ you said, biting your lip. You were holding the phone up with one arm, but he could see your other arm held fast in front of you. Were you touching yourself in the living room?

‘Show me,’ he said, and you grinned at him. You panned the camera down, slowly, so that first thing he saw was the straps of your camisole, one hanging off your shoulder to hover just over the swell of your tit. You lowered it again, over the belly, where you had shucked up the hem and he could see some exposed skin, your little belly button he sometimes liked to tickle with his beard just to hear you squirm and squeal.

Then a little further down. Angling the camera so that he could see down your body, to your feet on the carpet, and to the man on his knees between them.

Joel blinked. He was sure his heart stopped.

‘What…’ he started, but he couldn’t finish his sentence because he was too distracted by the man hitching one of your thighs over his shoulder and opening you up, teasing the lips of your pussy apart to properly latch to your cunt. ‘Oh my god,’ he uttered.

‘Oh my god!’ you gasped, as Frankie sucked your clit between his teeth. ‘Oh baby, he’s so good,’ you groaned.

‘Baby, what are you doing?’ Joel asked, trying not to overthink that his cock was rock hard while he watched another man lick a stripe along your seam.

‘Surprise…’ you gasped. ‘Got a head start.’

Joel’s hands were shaking. A head start on what? He watched as your hand gripped Frankie’s head, his ballcap on the floor beside him as he grasped at your hips, pulling you down harder on his face. You were squirming there on top of him, as he huffed out little exhales into your skin.

Your breath was starting to get faster, coming in little pants, as your thigh clenched around Frankie’s shoulder. For a brief moment you worried you were going to suffocate him, and then he ran a finger up the inside of your thigh and teased at your opening and you simply didn’t care.

You angled the phone back to your face, your eyes fluttering shut so that you didn’t see Joel’s slightly shocked expression.

‘Such a good surprise, baby, thank you,’ you said, and Joel felt his belly flip in on itself. You were blissed out, he could see just by your face you were half gone already. Your little whimpers were sending electric shocks to his cock. He couldn’t deny it wasn’t one of the hottest things he’d ever seen, or that he had wanted to see it ever since Frankie appeared next door. He just assumed you’d never be into it, and now looking at you writhing he couldn’t remember why.

He swallowed on a dry throat. You cracked open an eye, noticing he’d stopped talking. You saw that he looked a little pale, and worried for a second he was regretting it.

‘He’s not better,’ you said, trying to form words to reassure him while Frankie was pushing any sensible thought out of your head with his tongue. ‘He’s good, just as good. It’s just different.’

You were shuddering a little, Joel could see that you were trembling from the pleasure the other man was wringing out of you. ‘Yeah?’ he grunted, because he couldn’t think of anything else to say. Because he didn’t want to take this from you when you’d accidentally given him something he thought he would only ever dream of, not when you were feeling so good, not when you had apparently read his (dirty, filthy) mind. Because he was enjoying it, if he could tame the beast that was howling mine mine mine every time you whimpered under Frankie’s tongue. Because, ok, this wasn’t what he had planned for the day, but it was so much better.

His cock was already so hard it was almost painful. His beautiful, dirty girl. ‘He eatin’ it right, baby?’ he asked, and you moaned a little in response. He heard Frankie grunt a little from beneath you. ‘Show me,’ he said.

You angled the phone down again, this time reaching to put it closer to your cunt, so that Joel could see the way Frankie was suckling at your cunt, the way his tongue was working his way in and out of you, how at some point he had slipped two fingers into your cunt and was pumping them slowly, angled in the way Joel knew you liked, the way that made you stutter.

‘Fuck…’ he groaned, as Frankie huffed out an exhale.

‘She’s good, man,’ Frankie said, pulling his mouth off you for just long enough to force out the words. ‘Tastes like a warm spring morning.’

Joel could feel his cock pulsing, could hardly hear for the pounding of his pulse in his ears.

‘You treat her right,’ he ground out, his jaw ticking. He could feel the furrow in his brows, knew he was almost glowering at Frankie. ‘That’s my girl you got there,’ he added, feeling the need to remind him. To remind himself.

‘She always get this wet for you?’ Frankie asked, and Joel practically growled. He was about to tell Frankie you could practically drown him every night when he noticed your thighs were trembling, your hand in his hair moving to his shoulder to try and get purchase.

‘Lay ‘er down,’ he instructed. ‘Don’t let her fall.’

The camera moved, blurred as Frankie got up off his knees and pulled you over to the couch. He heard you sigh as your muscles relaxed, Frankie lying you down and settling between your open thighs.

‘Thank you, baby,’ you whispered to Joel. He swallowed.

‘Look after you,’ he said, fumbling with his fly. He was rock hard and worried as soon as he held himself in his hand he’d nut like a teenager. He wanted to ride this out with you, wanted to be present for all of it, wanted to stave it off as much as he wanted to chase it down.

‘Oh, he’s got his fingers in me,’ you said, gasping. ‘They’re so thick, just like yours…’

‘He hittin’ the spot?’ Joel asked, as you angled the camera down your body and he saw Frankie hovering over your cunt, lips once again suctioning at your clit.

‘Mmmhmm’ you replied, breathless. ‘He’s good, baby, he’s so good.’

Joel couldn’t form words for a second, gripping the base of his cock to try and regain some sort of control over it.

‘Wish you were here,’ you said, as you pushed your hips down onto Frankie’s face.

‘Yeah?’ Joel asked, wincing as he drew his palm over the weeping, sensitive head. ‘What’d you do if I was there, baby?’ he asked.

‘Want you everywhere,’ you groaned. ‘Want you in my mouth, in my pussy while he sucks on my clit. Want you in my cunt while I suck him.’

Joel gasped, his eyes slamming shut as his head tilted back on his shoulders. You were going to be the fucking death of him, and he would happily go if this was how you’d go about it.

‘Want your tight little cunt, baby,’ he grunted, pumping now, not able to help himself, the want for you overwhelming as Frankie raised his head a little to eye him through the camera. Your hips were bucking now, involuntary and fast. ‘Play with her,’ Joel said to him. ‘Don’t let her come yet, not ‘til she’s earned it.’

He heard you whimper, a desperate little cry, and watched as Frankie pulled back. Joel watched as his face glistened with your slick.

‘Joel!’ you cried, and he sniggered a little.

‘Ain’t what I meant when I said you could cut my grass,’ he said to Frankie, who grinned at him.

‘Not my fault your girl’s got a delicious cunt,’ he said, shrugging.

‘Let me see her,’ Joel said. He held his breath as Frankie took the phone from you and angled it back towards you. He saw you, splayed out on the couch for him and for Frankie, one leg on the floor and the other held fast against the couch, your slick spread over your thighs as your pussy grasped at the air, desperate for something to lick it, to suck it, to fuck it. ‘Jesus,’ Joel said, staring at your folds.

‘Don’t know how you leave the house with this waiting for ya, hermano,’ Frankie said. Joel shook his head.

‘M’a damn fool,’ he agreed. He saw you giggle, and he smiled.

‘Get on your knees for him, baby,’ he said, and watched as your smile fell, shock and want painting your pretty face.

‘You sure?’ you asked, so quiet he almost didn’t hear.

‘You wanna be good to our guest, right?’ Joel teased, and he watched you smile.

‘I’m a good host,’ you said, and he smiled.

‘The best, baby. Go on now, make him feel welcome.’

‘Oh fuck, Joel,’ Frankie muttered, as you got up on your knees on the couch and crawled over to him, your eyes on the younger man’s cock.

‘Just wait ‘til you see what she can do with that slutty little mouth,’ Joel said. He was holding himself by the base again, almost holding his breath in anticipation. Frankie angled the camera down his body so that Joel could see your hand as you reached out to hold him.

‘It’s big,’ you said, looking up and straight at Joel through the camera. You could see how far gone he was, how much he was holding himself back. You felt more arousal pool between your legs just at the look on his face.

‘You can take it,’ Joel said. ‘Make it good for him, baby.’

You watched as he mirrored your smile. God, you loved him. Even now, with another man’s cock in your face, he was the love of your life and as soon as he was home again you’d tell him. Show him. Never let him doubt it for a second.

You extended your tongue to kitten lick at Frankie’s tip, tasting the pre-come that had gathered while you and Joel encouraged each other. You heard the twin groans of Frankie above you and Joel through the phone. You hitched your mouth over the head, gathering saliva and letting it run out over the sides. Frankie was big, but so was Joel, and you breathed through your nose as you slipped your mouth over him, opening your throat and trying to calm your racing heart.

‘Oh, fuck me,’ Frankie said, as Joel held his breath. You hollowed your cheeks, a bolt of want shooting through your cunt as Frankie stuttered, groaning low and heavy in his chest. He smelt faintly of Old Spice and grass clippings, and you tasted the salt on his skin of his exertion. Joel smelt of pine and lumber. Between the two of them they were a symphony of delicious masculinity.

‘Can you reach her tits?’ you heard Joel ask, shivering. Frankie grunted his ascent. ‘Reach down, if you play with her nipples she’ll soak the couch.’

You whimpered, breathing out hard through your nose as you worked Frankie further into your throat.

‘Look at me, baby.’ Joel instructed and you opened your eyes, letting them travel up Frankie’s glistening tanned body to catch Joel’s eyes. You could see he was working himself again, panting and squirming in the driver’s seat of his truck. His hands were trembling a little, causing your view of him to shake, and it matched the tremors that were coursing through your body as you sucked Frankie down.

You felt his hand grope at your tit and you rounded your spine to try and give him more room, sticking your butt out into the air in the process. You kept your eyes on Joel, fighting the urge to let them drift closed, wanting to watch him watching you with another man’s cock in your mouth.

‘Doin’ so good,’ Joel muttered and you preened under his praise. ‘Put your hand between your legs, rub that little clit.’

You whined, following his instruction, a little lightheaded from the heat and the desire and Frankie halfway down your throat. ‘Such a pretty girl, my beautiful girl,’ Joel prattled. ‘Love you like this, baby, throat all stretched out taking on another man.’

Your eyelids fluttered as his words hit you in your core, Frankie’s hips starting to roll as you eased your finger over your clit and started rubbing tight little circles on the bundle of nerves. Frankie pinched hard at your nipple and you gasped, sucking in air through your nose and trying not to gag in the process.

‘Oh fuck, she’s squeezing me with her throat, hermano,’ Frankie muttered.

Joel watched, almost completely out of his mind. He never wanted to look at anything else ever again, wanted this view of you tattooed on the inside of his eyelids so he could see it anytime he wanted. Your eyes were starting to water, your skin glistening with sweat, as your hips shuddered under your own touch and under Frankie’s.

Joel was so close he wasn’t going to be able to stop it. He knew he had only seconds left, and by the looks of it, so did you.

‘Oh fuck baby, look what you did to us,’ he said, and you let your eyes drift from Joel’s to Frankie’s face as he grit his teeth, his eyes staring down at you, just barely managing to hold onto the phone as you sucked him.

‘So good,’ Frankie said to you, ‘can’t…gonna…’

You groaned, taking him out of your throat and reaching up to jerk the shaft while you sucked hard on the head. Still circling your clit with one hand you reached the other up to gently roll his balls in your palm. He cried out, the shock of the pleasure making him finally drop the phone. It landed, face up, just by his knees and angled up under your chin as Frankie shot his load into your mouth, gripping your tit in one hand and the other coming to rest on the crown of your head as he pumped his hips, his come shooting into your mouth as you rolled it over your tongue. Joel had an obscene view of it, watched as Frankie’s come spilled out of your mouth and onto the couch below you, nearly splattering over the lens. It was too much, finally too much, Joel shooting come into his hand and over his shirt as he fucked his palm, imagined it was your mouth, your cunt as you sucked Frankie’s come down, imagined he was inside you and also beside you, holding your head up as the younger man painted your throat.

He came as you did, gasping and whimpering for the other, your voice calling for him as he grunted out for you, and he recovered just enough to watch as you shuddered, your body shaking and rolling with the pleasure of it as you rested your face on Frankie’s heaving belly, sweat plastering your hair to your head, come dripping from your lips, as you rode out your high.

‘Fuck, baby…’ you whimpered, while you fought to catch your breath. Joel could see you collapsing, the pleasure wringing you out, leaving you shaky and spent. He swallowed, collecting himself enough to instruct the younger man.

‘Washcloths are under the bathroom sink. Make sure the water’s warm.’ He took a second to breathe, trying to clear his vision enough to be able to drive. ‘Wrap her up in a blanket, there’s one on the back of the couch.’ He watched as Frankie nodded, listening hard. ‘Hold her ‘til I get there,’ Joel said, his heart thrumming again, an ache building in his chest to be with you as he fumbled the keys into the ignition.

‘Hold my girl for me ‘til I’m there,’ he said, again.

[st4rymoon]

can I please request where Steven has a fixation on fuckin the reader dumb and when she makes faces or noises he mimics them back at her and is kinda condescending but the reader is into it?

Like reader is really smart and steven likes having the power to make her dumb.

This is so good omfg.

𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐟𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 • Steven Grant x Fem Reader

- 18+, smut, unprotected sex!, soft dom Steven, meanish Steven, dumbification, language, pet names, finger sucking, p in v, creampie!, teasing, reader is described as smart, messy sex!

Steven loved having such a dork as a girlfriend. He was over the moon when he finally found someone that was hyper fixated on something like he was with Egyptian History.

You could go on and on about your interests in science and Steven would sit and listen with a cheeky smile.

But what he loved most was knowing you’ve never failed an exam or a quiz, top of your classes since you can remember. The last thing anyone could call you is dumb.

Everyone around you joked that the day you answer anything in a dim-witted way is the day pigs will fly.

That’s why the first time you and Steven got intimate together, it was like a whole new world being opened up for the both of you.

You were always so sharp and composed that the second Steven had you scratching at his arms with your eyes rolled back, drool pooling out of your mouth as you mumbled on incoherent sentences made him cum right there.

It felt like you could finally release all that stress and energy whenever Steven was fucking you dumb, you didn’t care about anything other than Steven.

Steven on the other hand couldn’t stop thinking about the way you seemed to go dumb. How utterly wrecked and brainless you looked as you bounced on his cock, coating him in your slick as the lewd sounds of your pussy filled his ears.

And the sounds you made. Oh god the sounds you made, steven could hear it now. He’d close his eyes and imagine it right there steven, don’t stop pleaseee, ah- oh mhm, as you dumbly cried with mascara smeared all over your face.

Today was a stressful day for both of you so it was no surprise that you were in his arms as soon as you walked into the living room.

Steven’s soft lips were peppering warm sloppy kisses all over your face, lips, and shoulders. You could tell he was needier than usual, his grip tight around your hips as you spread your legs around his waist.

His hands were already up your skirt as you tossed your blouse behind the couch. Both of you seeming to be ripping off each others clothes in haste. “You know what Khonshu said today?” Steven cooed.

You hummed in question as you dragged your nails up Steven’s back “that old bird joked he’d never seen someone so smart mouthed like you. Always right, always so bratty” Steven huffed.

“Steven please” you whined, his calloused hands now tugging your panties down your legs “please Steven please, that’s all you bloody say when we get this far” he mocked.

You signed as he pressed reassuring kisses down your jaw, his hands swatting your legs wide for him to settle in. “Look at me sweetheart, in the eyes, yeah just like that” he whispered.

“Why do you already look so empty-headed darling?” He hummed with a cheeky smile. Your eyes dumbly rolled back as Steven sunk into you, your warm walls instantly squeezing around his thick size.

You let out a pathetic mewl “st- stevennn”

He smiled at the praise, the stupid look on your face making him groan as he pushed two fingers into your mouth. He watched with his mouth ajar as your tongue swirled around his digits. Your teeth softly biting down as he thrusted his hips forward.

You moaned into his fingers as he watched hypnotized, he felt his hips moving on their own all the while his eyes locked onto your face. He felt so proud of himself knowing he was the only one to get you so messy.

Ragged moans slipping past his lips as he felt you throbbing around him. You never understood why Steven was the only one to get you this way, he was nothing like you expected.

He was so quiet and shy when you first met him and now you’ve come to learn that he’s the one man capable of being so loving and caring yet fucking you like a pro. He seemed to know exactly what you needed, when you needed it.

“St- o- Pleas- ah” you hummed, saliva and sweat making your hair stick to your face as he pounded you into the couch. You clawed at his chest as your legs began to shake, you could feel him so deep it was getting harder to ignore the starting of tears form.

The amount of pleasure you were feeling as getting to you and Steven could feel it, you were gushing slick, your wetness sticking to his thighs as he angled his hips.

A shaky gasp escaped you as your orgasm turned your vision blurry, your cunt fluttering around him as he muttered to himself. The only thing you heard was his voice cooing at you in a mocking tone.

You didn’t even try to get angry when you heard him mocking your moans with a chuckle “I’ve got you this dumb? Aren’t I a lucky guy”

All you could do was nod and glare up at him with glossy eyes.

The look on your face was enough to make Steven cum, saliva all over and tears staining your cheeks. He let out a loud moan, hands pinning your hips down to make sure he fills you up nice and full.

Neither of you seeming to care for the couch that was now messy with cum as Steven softly thrusted.

“Made for me love”