#the god craves punishment skin

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Bonus*

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He’s Just So Desperate…

Dom!Simon x F!Reader warnings and info: just straight up smut, praise praise praise, praise with degradation oh myyy, overstimulation, dacryphilia, cunnilingus, breeding, reader is SO hopeless for Simon but so so embarrassed at the same time :.), dub-con if you squint, no use of y/n The brain worms got me… Thinking about Simon and how he would react to his partner feeling oh so incredibly embarrassed about the faces they make in bed + his reaction when he’s in a sour mood coming home from deployment and needs some stress relief… He definitely wouldn’t put up with your shyness, not at all. Instead, he’d pull your hands aside and leave you a desperate mess until you’re sobbing for him… Oh god.. and he would EAT UP the way you cried. Gvsghhghsv. WC: 1762 (this was supposed to be a drabble, I got carried away...) MDNI

Simon was hardly ever aggressive with you. 

Although he was huge, and his size itself felt like a punishment when it was roughly kissing up against your cervix with each thrust, he wanted you to know, wanted you to feel, just how precious you were to him— how perfect you were for taking him so well. 

He would coo you with praise and kiss at your face, even as your eyes filled with tears at the overwhelming pleasure, juxtaposed by his harsh and deep strokes that worked in tandem to drive you over the edge.

You were always embarrassed when your eyes would well up, who could blame you, though? You’ve never been one to tear up during sex. But with him, it was different.

He was everything you’ve ever wanted and way too much all at the same time. 

The way his cock stretched you open, barely fitting when he would initially push into your tight cunt, the way his curved tip hit just the right spot over and over and over again, in a steady, but brutal pace, the way he would use one hand to push down on your lower abdomen, all the while using his thumb to gently circle your clit until you were seeing stars, begging for him to let up.

It was impossible not to whine and cry from how overstimulated he left you, especially after he had you falling apart for him three, four, and maybe five times all in one night.

Every time it would become too unbearable, too embarrassing, too good, your go-to would be to cover your face with your hands, trying to muffle your cries with your palms. But knowing Si, he would gently pry your hands away from your tear-stained face with a, “God baby, move your hands, please. Lemme see your face,” followed with a, “Fuckin’ gorgeous jus’ f’me, isn’t that right, love? So beautiful.”

He craved the luxury of seeing your expressions contort beneath him. 

Simon was hardly ever aggressive with you, but he had his moments.

One night, after a particularly intense deployment, and weeks away from his sweet sweet darling, he returned home with an insatiable craving, hungry, filled with desperation and an undertone of anger— unravelled in a way that only his missions could provoke out of him.

He was practically on you the second he walked into your apartment, shutting the door so quickly that you weren’t even able to greet him properly; it was a shame— you were quite excited to embrace him in a hug and ask him about his time away. It was only natural; you had missed him so much, wishing to spend time just in his company and catching up as you two usually did.

He, missing you just as much, maybe even more, had other plans.

He was quickly backing you into your shared bedroom with frantic kisses to your lips, muffling your protests. You had almost fallen backwards with every step, and you would have if not for his unrelenting hold on your hips, most definitely bruising your skin. It hurt, but your whimpers were swallowed up by his lips. You’ve never seen Simon like this before, and it scared you, only half as much as it excited you, though.

The second he pushed you down, and your body hit the bed with a force that made you bounce slightly, you had come to the realization that tonight, he would be anything but kind, anything but what you were used to. It gave you whiplash, the way he crawled onto you, tearing your bottoms off, along with your panties, leaning into your warmth, breathing in deeply before lapping at your heat like a starved man— he was usually slow, he usually took his time to admire the cute pair of lacy undergarments you decided to wear for him. Usually, but not tonight. Tonight, he would watch your back arch as you came undone on his tongue, begging him to slow down, feeling overstimulated beyond comprehension already. He would feel you trying to pull away, whining, sobbing, tugging at his short hair— but he wasn’t done. Not yet, not in the slightest. 

He wanted every last drop of your dripping pussy on his tongue for him to savour, “One more, love. You can take it, c’mon,” he’d say before circling your clit, vibrations of his laughter shaking you to your core.

He wanted you delirious, begging, desperate for his cock; he would refuse to split you open on his dick until you were sobbing beneath him, screaming his name like it was a mantra— and it was working. 

You two had a safe word, of course; Simon never wanted you to feel uncomfortable with him, that was probably his biggest fear— and although the word was ready to leave your lips at a moment's notice, a part of you revelled in how he was so adamant on making you feel good.

But you had your limits, and you were losing your patience, you had been pleading for him to stuff you full since the second your first orgasm washed over you, but he refused, “Oh baby. I know you can beg better than that. C’mon if you jus’ wanna cum on my tongue again, be honest with me, yeah?” He’d chuckle, mocking your efforts before relentlessly resuming his torment.

After the second orgasm he’d given you, you’re left shaking, legs ready to close, but his hands would hold them apart with a force that was sure to leave a print on the inside of your thighs the next day. 

A third, then a fourth.

He’d watch you cover up your face in pure ecstasy, begging and sobbing for him to fill your needy cunt. This made his heart skip, but you’d be so horribly mistaken if you thought covering your face would slide tonight, if you thought your little whines that he found so endearing would cause him to have any kind of mercy on you.

He‘d roughly catch your wrists in one hand and pull them away, “Cover your face again, n’ I’ll leave you here, drippin’, no cock f’you. Y’want that?”

Practically sobbing at this, shaking your head wildly, you’d beg him to fuck you open, more adamantly this time— to finally give you what you’ve been craving. A loud laugh would billow deep out of his chest at this, “You want me that bad, huh? You’re so desperate f’me to ruin you. Bet you want me ‘til you pass out, only so I can fuck you back to consciousness, isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

At his words, your heart would jump, threatening to burst out of your chest, wetness would pool on the sheets below you, and you’d nod so eagerly, letting him know you were more than ready for him to wreck you. You sobbed and looked up at him with the saddest most pleading eyes he’d ever seen, and he’d feel his resolve break at this, “Fuckin’ hell, love,” he’d groan, “Can never say no to you, fuck, those eyes. Jus’ keep lookin’ at me like that, yeah? Don’t take ‘em off of me.” He’d cuss through his teeth, pulling his cock out of his unbearably tight cargo’s and boxers in once movement to slap against your clit, eliciting a sharp whine from you. He’d grin at this before slowly lining himself up with your slit, not before teasing your entrance until you sobbed again with distress, begging for him. After a moment, one that felt like it dragged on for way too long, you found him finally sinking in. 

The feeling almost made you cum on the spot, your legs wrapping around his waist to pull him in deeper; you’re wailing, mewling, arching your back, left a whimpering mess (just how he likes it) by the time he’s buried himself into you, to the shaft. “Mhmm. Baby, so fuckin’ tight. Made ya’ cum so much already and you’re still as tight as a fuckin’ virgin,” he’d groan with a small huff. 

His pace, although it started off slow, was anything but nice, anything but kind— it was ruthless, full of so much desperation and so much pent-up rage. It took the breath straight out of your lungs with each thrust, almost winding you in the process. You’re barely able to make out any sentences, let alone process any thought other than him, and how good he felt rutting into you like an animal in heat. He’d lean down to your ear and curse the most foul things you’ve ever heard, “Such a gorgeous fuckin’ slut f’me, right?” He’d huff, growling into your ear, drawing out the words, “Been waitin’ to fuck this pussy for weeks. Have no idea how much I’ve missed you— fuck.”

He had his way with you in a way you had never felt before, and it was good, too good— you were addicted to the way he made you feel. 

With your eyes rolled back and mouth slightly open, hands desperately trying to grab onto his shoulders for any semblance of support, he’d chuckle, “So cock drunk f’me already? My good fuckin’ girl.”

His words spurred you on, and you knew they did for him, too, especially with the way he was grunting and groaning. 

It didn’t take very long for his pace to become sloppy and for his breath to start coming out raggedly. “Fuckin’ hell, take it, take it— god— so good f’me, so fuckin’ perfect, fuck— fuuuck,” he’d curse before his thrust suddenly staggered and he was emptying his hot thick load right inside of you. The tight knot building inside of your stomach would snap at this, and you’d convulse around him, walls squeezing him for every last drop of his seed. He’d continue to thrust into you, as deep as he could, helping you ride out your orgasm that ripped straight through you all the while pumping into you, your cunt swallowing up his cum hastily.

After catching his breath, watching you shakily try to catch your own, he’d slide himself out and watch the cum ooze out of you. It was a captivating sight, and it made him want to bury himself inside you again and again and again. But he could see the exhaustion on your face, and it made his heart swell, so instead, he’d put his forehead onto yours, holding your face in both his palms, thumbs brushing the side of your face with all the love in the world, wiping away the dried tears, “I missed you so much.”

[ctrlhope]

Love Thy Neighbour (m)

synopsis: Jimin is a patient man, at least, he thinks he is. But you test him so much. Can’t you just be good? Be so pretty for him? He knows you want to be. Knows you can be so perfect, just for him.

p.jimin x f.reader

𝜗𝜚 ݁ ˖┊: wc: 4.5k

𝜗𝜚 ݁ ˖┊: genre: yandere/dark, smut, dark content

𝜗𝜚 ݁ ˖┊: content: yandere/dark!jimin, noncon, dubcon, implied non-human!jimin, kidnapping, use of a sex doll, cruel and unusual punishment, mindbreak, fear play, blood, biting, marking, minimal prep, cervix bruising, dehumanization (?), creampie, rough sex, jimin is lovesick and delusional and also a gross perv, lmk if i missed any <33

𝜗𝜚 ݁ ˖┊: notes: hello!!! the demons won and i finally decided to post this after it was sitting in my drafts forever <33 i wrote this about a year ago with jimin in mind, but then i posted it to my anime blog instead. if you read it over there… no you didn’t AHSSKSH it’s still probably my favourite thing i’ve ever written tbh <33 im back into the swing of writing so nightlight coming soon!! as always please read the warnings <//3

18+ -> minors / blank blogs dni -> dark content

Creak.

Footsteps. Footsteps right in front of you. Right in front of your hiding place.

Please don’t stop. Please don’t stop. Please keep walking. Please. If there’s any god out there please make him keep walking.

Bang.

His fist hits the desk right above your head. Fuck. Fuck. Shit. Why the fuck did you even hide? It was dumb. So dumb. You can’t get away. Maybe if you ran, kept running forever you could get away. But you can't. Not anymore. It’s too late for any of that.

“There you are, pretty doll.” His sick smile is all you see as he leans down, face coming into view. He’s crazy. He’s fucking crazy. You know that. You do.

You knew from the moment he knocked on your door in the middle of the night. He was practically buzzing as he rocked on his heels. His speech was weird, manic. He’s never spoken like that before. Not whenever he would come knocking on your door asking for sugar, at least.

You tried to be polite, you really did. You tried to make small talk, to politely excuse yourself, your hands shaking. You tried to close the door on him but it just wouldn’t shut as he kept rambling. His foot was shoved in the way, preventing your escape. His dirty fucking sneakers– god even now you remember them so clearly. You remember so many things you wish you didn’t.

How he fucking smiled when you looked back up at him.

It makes your stomach churn to think about it now.

You remember clearly how he grabbed you. He forced his way inside, slowly backing you against the wall. You remember how he grabbed your wrists, talked about how tiny they were in his hands. Showed you only a moment of warmth before harshly biting into the skin, red rising to the surface, coating his tongue. A sound of pain was retched from your throat, trying to pull away while his grip only got tighter. His hips forced you into the wall, trapping you. Keeping you as prey.

He said you taste delicious.

It fucking echos in your head. Makes you go insane with how it repeats over and over again. Exactly how he said the words. The lilt in his tone, the smile that made him look like he just saw the face of god. How excited he sounded at the first taste of blood.

The way you could tell that he craved more.

Craved everything you had to give.

You didn’t think demons were real before that night. Ghosts, angels– anything that goes bump in the night was just a figment of one's imagination. Maybe hallucinations. But this, this was real. How you wish this was all just some stupid hallucination.

Nothing is paranormal before you face the devil himself.

Nothing is more terrifying than when the devil wants you.

You learned that that night.

He dragged you next door, throwing you to the ground. He looked like a shadow, only a silhouette as he stood in the doorway. The moon casting a glow from behind him. You couldn't see his face, none of it was legible as you scrambled backwards. Trying, trying so desperately to put some space between yourself and the beast.

His shoulders heaved as he panted. Like a fucking monster that just got his kill.

He had.

He closed the doors. Locked them with what felt like a million keys. He started fucking giggling. Giggling like a goddamn lunatic as his demeanour changed completely. He was smiling like an innocent little kid. He was happy. The happiest you had ever seen a person before.

“Ahhh~” He sighed, glee laced in his all too cheery tone. It was like nails on a chalkboard. Speaking, churning in your ears so it's all you can hear. It mocks you. Mocks your very being. Mocks you for trying to live a normal life away from him.

You remember how he clung to you that night as you sobbed. Whining about how you shouldnt be sad, that you were home now. He’d coo, playing with your hair as he tried to ‘soothe’ your trembling body. His arms wrapped around you in a vice. It felt like he was choking the air out of your lungs.

Maybe he was trying, maybe he wanted you dead. You really had no clue. You just wanted to get away– be as far away from him as you could. You’d do anything, you told him as much. Change your name, leave the country. You promised you wouldn’t tell anybody! You would tell him anything if it meant you could leave.

But he kept you in place. Tucked in his arms. His entire body wrapped around yours, keeping you close. Keeping his face nuzzled into your neck. Smelling you. Smelling your fear.

He loves that smell.

If you let him he would breathe it in all the time, treating it as the very thing that keeps him alive. Well, until you die anyway. But he knows that won't be anytime soon! You’re strong. You're tenacious. He knows you are. You’ve dealt with so much in your life, you can deal with him too. He just knows it.

He wonders what all of your other emotions smell like.

Hmm.. What about love? That would be an interesting smell. Maybe it would be sweet like honey? Maybe bitter like chocolate… Humans are so interesting. They're so fun.

You are especially. And he knows you’ll like him too. He’s sure of it as you finally tire yourself out, falling asleep on his beat up mattress. Mmhmm crying for hours must really hurt your soul. Poor thing. He would fix it. Fix you up all nice and pretty. Yeah, he knows just how to. His pretty experiment.

Well, he thinks that’s all you are. A nice human experiment for him to play with. To learn everything about. Learn what makes them tick, what makes them laugh, what makes them cry. Seokjin told him as much. He could keep a little human as a pet, dispose of them when necessary. But… he doesn’t want to let you go! Just the thought makes him want to cry!

You are already better than he ever imagined!

Bang.

The chair blocking your body is thrown back, assaulting the wall with a deafening crash. Your hands come up, covering your ears. Shit Shit Shit! Fuck, what are you going to do, what are you going to do?! Your body forces itself as far as it can into the corner of the desk. All you can hear, all you can think about is the sound of your heartbeat ringing in your ears.

Why are you so dumb?! You knew you couldn’t win! You never win any of his games!

He squats in front of you, blocking your only means of escape. You hear him, watch him inhale deep before letting out a sick laugh. One that makes you want to cry. One that makes you feel like trying to run– trying to hide is useless. Maybe it is. You don’t see how you could possibly get away.

The pictures covering his walls tell you everything you need to know.

“Found you.” He smiles, crawling towards your body, crawling towards your last bit of safety. He looks like a monster– he is a monster. He can’t be human. He can’t. You refuse to believe it. Your legs kick, they try to get away. They try to be your last line of defence but his face only shows that of an owner looking at a puppy having a fit. He looks so fond of you.

You want to scream.

He grabs your ankle. It hurts. Everything hurts. You should’ve become numb at this point, you wish you had. You feel your body slip out from under the desk, dragged against the hard floor. Pick you up with ease, lay you down in his bed. His gross disgusting bed.

He pouts. He fucking pouts at you. Sits in front of you..

“Don't tell me you’re jealous.” His frowns, tilting his head at you. “I didn't mean to make you! I swear! I just wanted to show you. How much I love you…how good I could make my pretty doll feel.” You could never be jealous. Not of anything involving him.

Especially not involving the putrid fucking sex doll that lays next to you in bed.

How he fucked it last night, making you watch. Made you hold his hand while he thrust into the thing. Made you cup his face as he came inside.

“How I’ve been practicing just for you.” He coos, a smile gracing his lips as he moves to his knees, crawling towards you in the bed. “Humans are just so hard to understand…And I really couldn’t wait for you any longer.”

You don’t hear his words. Your eyes fixated on the doll that looks just like you. Every freckle the same, every mole. Every fucking tiny detail mirrored yours in a lifeless, hollow core made of silicon. Filled up with his cum. You don’t want to think about how many times he’s fucked it. How many times he’s pretended having sex with you while holding it close. How much he had to have spent to get such a thing.

How deep whatever he feels for you runs.

You swear it probably coats his veins. Running under every inch of this skin. Giving it colour. Giving it life. It's all you’re able to think about when he leaves you alone in the apartments. It’s hard for you to swallow. To believe for yourself. You wish it is a lie.

You let him get close. You let him into your bubble for only a second. You allow his face into your neck. Biting your skin, drawing blood once again. He loves the taste. You think he's probably obsessed with it. You wanted to recoil away, disgusted with how he hums, lapping at the skin. But you don’t. You need to let him have this. Even if it's just for a second.

You close your eyes tight. You feel him relax. He thinks you’re giving in. You know he does. You can do this. You can do this. You may have only made this decision a moment ago as you stared at the doll, but you had to do this. You had to do it for yourself. It may be the last chance you get. You can’t stop fighting.

You can do this. You can do this.

The mantra chants over and over again in your head like a prayer. You feel his hand reach up, covering your clothed breast with his palm. Massaging it carelessly, without any thought or respect for you. In his head you’re probably the same as that fucking sex doll.

Your knee shoots up. Right into his crotch. Right where it hurts the most. Your hands shove him with all the strength in your body, getting him off of you. Getting him away for only a moment while he recovers. Maybe. Maybe you can make it out of the door. Or maybe you can make it to the bathroom and lock yourself inside. Maybe you have a chance. Just maybe.

Your body scrambles off of the bed, moving faster than you ever thought was possible. You race towards the door, arm reaching out for the handle. You’re so close. You’re almost there. You’re almost able to get away.

Freedom is within your grasp, it's so close you can taste it. He forgot to lock the door, you know he did. You didn't hear any of them click back in place when he came inside. He was too caught up in the moment with trying to find you. If you make it there then maybe, just maybe you can get outside. Run as fast and as far away as you can. Call the police and escape from him. Spread the wings he’s tried to clip.

You land flat on your face.

Not even your arms are able to cushion your fall.

A hand wraps around your ankle, pulling you, dragging you again. Backwards. Back into the cage. Back to him. His chest heaves. His shoulders hunch. He looks dishevelled. Crazed.

He has that fucking smile plastered on his face.

“I love it when you run. It's so pretty.” He giggles, “You know me so well.”

You kick at him, thrash your body as he pulls you closer and closer. “Get the fuck away from me!” You yell, though it falls on deaf ears. All the strength in your body is being used to get away. To try and escape from him. He can’t be human. He’s too strong. Even with your struggle he still lifts you easily, like you’re just some fucking little kid having a temper tantrem.

“I’ve been so patient…” He sighs, placing– rather, forcing you onto the edge of the bed. Your knees on the floor as your torso is pressed against the mattress. Your arms pinned behind your back with one of his hands. Your hips pinned in place with his own. You can feel his cock against you. He’s hard. “I really am patient, you know?”

He hums, gently rocking his hips against you. His entire length pressed against your cunt. Taunting you. Words are not needed for you to know what’s to come. “It’s really too bad you know? I’ve run out.”

The simple statement makes your blood run cold.

“I’ve been so gentle…so caring…” He purrs, forcing his sweatpants down his legs. Just enough for his cock to spring free. Just enough for him to be able to stroke himself. For him to press the fat head where he wants– no, no. Needs to be. “I’ve really been trying my best to be good for you.”

You wish you could see. You wish you could see everything– exactly what he is doing. What he is planning to do to your wrecked frame. If, if everything wasn’t such a surprise then maybe… maybe you could make it a little better. But like this… you’re helpless. You’re trapped. You hate it. You can’t stand it. You wish you still had more tears left to cry. But you know it’s over. You can’t do anything now.

Exactly how he wants it– wants you.

You feel him stop moving, an excited gasp resonating from his throat. His entire presence changes in a flash, giddiness taking him over as the cogs in his brain turn. Making up his own story, his own reality changing all over again. “Unless, you don't want me to be good for you? You want me to take what I want? That’s why you’ve been trying to run and hide?”

His frame towers over yours, his full weight pressing against your back forcing you deeper into the bed as he mumbles into your ear. “All you had to do was say so~”

All you can do is whimper in response. Whimper like a wounded animal that's been forced to accept their fate. Your head is blank, devoid of all thoughts and feelings. There is nothing. Nothing you can do.

Maybe he’s right.

Maybe a small part of you does like it. Who knows. You certainly don’t.

He blows gently on your ear, teasing you before he leans back. Your bottoms are forced down, exposing your cunt to the entire room. You can feel him practically buzzing with excitement. With some sick pleasure found deep within his gut.

“So pretty!” He whines, spreading your cheeks to get a full view of your pretty little cunt. You hate that you’re already wet. You hate that the feeling of his cock did it to you just moments before. You hate that he can see it. You hate the way pride bubbles up in his gut. The way you can hear him lick his lips like a starved man.

Hate what the other little voice is saying inside of your head. Hate that even maybe a little bit of your soul wants to feel him. The quiet fucked up voice that you always try to silence in the dead of night when you’re left with your thoughts.

“Mm… I wanna taste you so bad but… I really can’t wait anymore… what am I supposed to do!!” You can practically hear the pout plastered on his lips. “Ah~”

The fat head of his cock finds its way back to your cunt, dragging itself up and down your lips. Milking every last bit of wetness out of your hole. Your nails dig into your own hands— maybe his. It’s hard to tell where you stop and he begins. When he’s this close it’s hard to tell much of anything.

“We have forever together don’t we?” He chuckles, his head stopping at your unprepped little hole. Attempting to push into it with just enough pressure to have you squirm. Have you bite down on the sheet to silence any sounds that might try to come through. He’s too thick. “We can try out all sorts of fun things together~”

His thumb aids as he tries to push the head of his cock inside. Prodding, trying to force his way inside without a care in the world for how it might hurt. How it might feel for you. He’s too big— you’re, you’re too tight. You can’t take it! It won’t fit you just, just–!

“Mmmm!!” A muffled cry breaks free from your throat as the head of his cock buries itself in your cunt. Your ears ring, pain taking over your senses as he lets out a mouth watering, near pornographic moan from above you.

His grip on your wrists tighten, eyes staring at where he’s fucked himself into you. Wow~ it’s so pretty. He never expected a human to feel this good! It’s incredible! Magnificent! And this is just the first inch of him? Oh my… he can only imagine what bottoming out with feel like— how it will feel when his cock is pressed against your cervi—

Wait wait!! He’s getting ahead of himself again. A gasp leaves his throat as he pulls out, a muffled whine leaving your own. Your hole clenches around nothing. What a cute little thing! It’s calling him back in!! He knew you wanted this, he knows all about you huh?

He drags his cock back and forth through your lips again, red mixing in with the pretty white. He dips his cock head over and over again into your entrance, thrusting himself deeper and deeper every time. Stretching you just perfectly around his length.

Hmm, humans like prep right? He figures that this is close enough. His doll doesn’t need it. She just takes him right away— someday you’ll be the same! He just needs to break you in! But until then, he needs to savour this… who knows when you might come around again?

Mmm… you’re too mean to him. Yeah, that’s all it is.

Ah, it’s too bad he’s too lost to notice you’re already falling apart. Your back is arching on its own. Working without permission to give him a better angle. Your hips bucking, leaning back ever so slightly as he presses into your cunt. Urging him just a little deeper. Your pussy is too wet to think about anything, your head in a daze as he teases you, taunts you relentlessly.

You don’t want this— at least you think you don’t. But, it’s so hard to know what you really want when your head gets like this. When it’s actually feeling good. When the pleasure mixes with pain to concoct something dangerous. Something that makes you unsure of anything, really. Maybe you’re dumb, maybe you’re stupid. Yeah. You probably are. But that’s okay. He likes that.

He likes you.

He slides his cock inside of your hole, his hand moving to your ass as thrusts his hips. Forcing his cock deeper and deeper with each stroke. Your walls clenching around every inch that pushes its way inside. God, you’ve never felt so full. You’ve never felt anything like this. Anything like his cock, anything like him.

Whimpers, whines, all sorts of sounds escape your throat as you let him do what he pleases. Give into whatever twisted pleasure is being given to you. It’s hard to stop them when he’s even louder— panting like a fucking dog as he feels you. Feels every inch of you. Makes you two become one.

He fucks into you so hard it hurts. So hard that your entire body is being pushed into the bed, spine curving up to meet him with every demonic thrust of his hips. Every time the skin of his thighs meets your ass, every time the head of his cock meets with your cervix, pain racks through your body. You can’t take it. You feel like you’re going crazy. You feel like you’re the insane one.

The sound of skin against skin penetrating the sound of your ears like some sort of sick, twisted song. A song he plays so well. One you don’t want him to stop. No matter how much it hurts, how it stings you, you just can’t find it in yourself to push him away. His moans feel like a siren’s voice, luring you closer and closer, pushing you so close to the edge.

“Why’s she so mean!” He whines, his thrusts frantic and hurried. Only caring for his own pleasure, only caring about him. “Won’t let me in any deeper doll! Can you believe that?” He groans, pressing his cock so hard against your cervix you nearly scream in pain. Your body thrashes, trying to get away from the sensation.

He shushes you quietly, leaning his torso against your back as he coos. “Shh… shh… it’s okay… we won’t try that today okay? Must be too much for you… poor thing.” His hips relent, slowly rocking into your battered cunt to give you a little bit of a break. To rest before the main event.

You want to cringe at how wet you sound, how messy you’ve become due to his cock and his cock alone. How greedily your pussy takes him, urging him back with every thrust. Wanting it. Wanting him.

You see his arm reach past your head, grabbing onto your mimics hair. Pulling the doll closer. Holding its head so it’s staring right into your eyes. It’s so lifeless. So hollow.

“It’s okay.” You can hear the smile in his voice. “Someday you’ll take me just like she can, yeah? You’ll be sooo~ good for me.” His hips start to pick up their pace again, thighs slapping against your ass so hard you might see stars. So hard you actually want to listen to him.

“I had to break her in too, real good.” He pants out, losing himself in the feeling of your tight, warm walls.

You flinch away. You can’t look at it anymore. Can’t look at a face that is exactly your own yet so cold and distant. So lost. Used for months on end. Maybe a little sense comes back to you, a small part of reality seeping back into your skull.

He tsks. Fucking tsks and shakes his head in disappointment. “That won’t do… I need my girls to like each other…” He grabs your jaw, forcing you to look up at the thing. The creature with your hair and eyes.

“Kiss it.” His voice changes in a second, morphing into something commanding. Something scary.

Fuck reality. Living in whatever dream you’ve created for yourself is better. Better than facing this. You don’t want to disobey. You want to listen, want him to let you cum. Want to be good. Maybe want his praise, even if it’s just a little.

Your lips meet with the cold, lifeless silicon. Tasting whatever disgusting leftover cum can be found on its lips. He pushes the head against your lips, forcing you to lick your tongue inside. “Adorable!!”

He likes it. He likes it too much. You can tell.

Tell by the way his hips pick up speed, forcing your used hole to take him over and over again. Forcing you to accept him into your body. Forcing you to fall for his cock. Make sure no one else will ever be able to use it. Use you like the way he wants to.

Can tell by the way his cock twitches, his thrusts becoming sloppy. His pace completely out the window as he searches for nothing but his own release.

Maybe you like it too. Like the way his cum tastes. Like the way he took this, took all of you for himself. All of you flesh as his. The coil tightens in your stomach, white specks start to form behind your eyelids. You’re close, too fucking close you just can’t take it anymore.

A loud moan leaves your lips, muffled by the silicon held against your mouth. Waves of pleasure crashing through your frame like a tidal wave of ecstasy as white paints the inside of your walls. Ears ringing, vision gone white as endorphins fill your brain making you forget— forget everything about this moment. How fucked up it is. How you want more.

Your walls clamp around his cock as it jerks in your cunt, milking every last drop of cum from him. Filling you up until you’re stuffed. Until you can’t think anymore. Until you’re so tired you just want to collapse.

He drops the doll letting you pull your head back to finally be able to breathe again fully. Your frame slumps against the bed. Tired. Drained of everything it has to give.

He slowly pulls out of your abused little hole, watching the way it flutters around nothing. Watching the white mixed with red slowly drip out of it onto the rug. “Humans are such incredible little things…”

He smiles, shallowly dipping a finger inside your walls before popping it in his mouth. Just a little taste. “You did so good doll…” He pets your hair, gives you some sort of comfort after everything he’s done. It’s the least you deserve.

He moves your body into the bed with ease, pulling a blanket over your shaking form. A nap would be good right now. It’s always good to give humans at least one nap a day! Mhmm… and you seem like you could use one.

He moves behind you, wrapping an arm around your body from behind. Pulling you close to his chest. Making no mind to fix your clothes. This is good. This is right. It’s how it’s always supposed to have been!! Ah, and now he has all the time to make you understand that too. He’s so lucky. So lucky to have found such a good human.

“Night night dolly…” He whispers in your ear, brushing your hair gently. Coaxing you to sleep. “Let’s have a great day tomorrow too, yeah?”

Right. Tomorrow. Cause this is forever.

You can’t help the small smile that creeps to your lips at the thought. Forever. ♡

⋆𐙚 if you enjoyed this fic, please consider buying me a kofi!

© all rights reserved to ctrlhope 2019-2024; do not copy, plagiarise, or translate.

[surielstea]

“Just one more, baby.”

Kinktober day 1: Overstim + Praise

Pairing: Rhysand x Fem!Reader

Summary: Rhys is a sex god, that is all your honor

Warnings: Minors dni | 18+ only | Overstimulation | P in V | multi orgasm | forced/controlled orgasm | clit play | cream pie | mention of oral (f receiving)

A. Note: First day of kinktober! Enjoy this Rhys fic that is simply 2k words of pure smut 💋♥️

2.3k words.

"C'mon baby, give me one more." My mate's words were distant, barely heard through barriers of hot pleasure.

"Rhys," I whimper, his name the only word I could form on my lips anymore. "Rhys," My brows bunch as sweat beads along my hairline.

My limbs were heavy with exertion, and my core throbbed with sensitivity. It felt too good to say it hurt, but gods was it too much.

"You're doing so well," He coos, leaning down and pressing a gentle kiss to my jaw, the featherlight touch like flames licking up my neck, heat encased me as if I was placed in a freshly put out furnace, and every touch like crackling embers on my bare skin.

"S'too much," I manage to get out, my voice raw and weak from pleading and moaning early this morning. I used the small amount of energy I had left to take a glance at the window, spotting the sun high in the sky— since dawn, he's had me beneath him like this since dawn. I lost track of how many times I had found release nearly hours ago.

Rhys had only reached that peak thrice, and when he was building that endurance back up he would use his mouth on me, there wasn't a moment where I wasn't attended to.

"Please," I cry out, "s'too much," I repeat, tears streaming down my cheeks as he delicately kissed them away, such gentleness in contrast to the way he had been pounding into me earlier.

"I know, I know darling," He murmurs, his voice a soft encouragement. "But you begged for this," He reminded. "Until you forget your own name, remember?" He nipped at the soft skin below my ear and I cried out, regretting my own words— but also thanking every god listening for a mate like this.

"Uh huh— I remember," I say breathlessly, nails scraping down his bare back, corded muscles shifting as he rolled his hips onto mine, his cock spearing into me relentlessly.

"Yeah? Tell me your name then," He suggests, moving his hand from my breast down my torso, and before I can answer his thumb finds my clit, rubbing in tight circles across the puffy, reddened bud. I gasped, my head falling back into the pillows.

I writhe, my body deflecting the overstimulation. "Yours," I rasp, my hands flowing into his dark locks. "I'm, I'm yours, Rhys."

"There she is, that's my good girl," He smiles against my neck, licking and nipping at my marked throat before sucking roughly at a highly sensitive area. I mewl at the sensation, every nerve in my body stretching taut as he continued his torturous ministrations around my clit.

"Please, please," I whine, my legs jolting with uncontrolled spasms.

"Please, what darling?" He prods, his husky voice like a velvet glove wrapped around my throat.

"Please, let me come," I beg. He grins viciously.

"Again, already?" He taunts and I whimper, my lower lip quivering as I prepared myself to plead, to grovel for that release I craved so ardently.

"Yes," I say through a breathless exhale. "Rhys I need, need it," I could hardly string together words, every sound I made another lewd moan.

He ignored my pleas and continued his torment to my pulsing core, his unrelenting and near-punishing movements sending me into a headspace one could only describe as full submission.

Rhys didn't let up, his hand working mercilessly between my legs while his cock hit a spot so deep I couldn't remember where I ended and he began. I was trembling beneath him, my entire body oversensitive, but the craving for release burned through every muscle.

"Rhys," I whimpered, the sound broken as my vision blurred with tears. "I can't—"

"You can," He purred, his lips brushing the shell of my ear. "And you will." The authority in his voice sent a shiver down my spine. I clung to him as though he were my only lifeline, nails raking down his back. His muscles shifted and flexed under my touch, and he groaned lowly at the pain mixed with pleasure, the primal sound making me pulse around him.

He knew exactly what he was doing—drawing me to the very edge of what I could handle and then pushing me beyond it.

My body was his to command, and the way his name fell from my lips like a desperate prayer proved it.

"You're mine," he whispered into my ear, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin just beneath. "Every part of you, mine."

I sobbed his name again, my back arching off the bed, muscles straining as I tried to escape the overwhelming pleasure. But Rhys' strong hands held me steady, firm, and inescapable as he pressed me deeper into the bed, his weight grounding me as my body shook with the effort of holding on.

"Atta girl," he murmured, and the praise sent a new wave of heat through my already blazing body. "You're doing so well for me. Just a little more, darling."

His thumb circled my clit faster, the friction against my swollen, overstimulated flesh making my vision blur. My hands flew to his shoulders, nails digging in as if trying to anchor myself, but Rhys barely reacted to the pain, his focus entirely on me. I could hear his breathing now, ragged and uneven, and the thought that he was just as affected as me made something primal coil in my chest.

Tears slipped from the corners of my eyes, mixing with the sheen of sweat on my flushed skin. I felt raw and undone, and yet the heat in my core refused to subside. Rhys pressed another kiss to my tear-streaked cheek, his lips featherlight against my skin, in direct contrast to the way his hips slammed into mine with a ferocity that made my entire body jolt.

"You're so beautiful like this," he said, his voice filled with a quiet reverence that made my heart stutter in my chest. "Completely mine, isn't that right?"

I could barely nod, the overstimulation making it impossible to form a coherent thought, let alone words. Every inch of my skin felt like it was on fire, too sensitive to bear another touch, but Rhys didn't stop. He wanted me like this—teetering on the edge of too much, completely at his mercy.

"Tell me," he commanded, his voice rough with need. "Tell me you're mine."

"I'm yours," I sobbed, my voice shaking as another tremor of pleasure raced up my spine. "I'm—I'm yours, Rhys, yours."

His grip tightened on my thigh, pulling me closer until his cock was buried so deep inside me that it felt like he was part of me, like he was in my blood, in my very bones.

"So perfect," he praised, and the words washed over me like a balm, soothing the ache of pain even as he pushed me dangerously close to that edge I've already gone over a multitude of times. His pace quickened, and the sound of his skin slapping against mine filled the room, mingling with my ragged breaths and desperate moans.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful so fucked out like this, you love this don’t you?” His hot mouth ghosted my jaw. “Love being stretched out and filled up?”

I barely heard him, lost in the blinding pleasure. It coursed through every nerve, and my vision blurred with tears as my body trembled uncontrollably. But Rhys never let go, holding me steady, his hand still working my clit with maddening precision. Even as I tried to pull away from the overwhelming sensations, he kept me grounded, refusing to let me escape the pleasure.

"I—Rhys, please," I gasped, my voice breaking as the overstimulation bordered on unbearable. My legs shook, and I tried to close them, desperate for a reprieve, but my limbs felt boneless, and moving was impossible. His grip on my thigh tightened, sensing my protest and keeping me open and vulnerable beneath him.

"Just a little more, darling," he coerced, his breath hot against my ear. "You can take it, I know you can." His praise wrapped around me like a warm blanket, pulling me deeper into the haze of pleasure. Even as my body screamed for mercy, something in his voice soothed the ache, and made me want to give him everything.

"You're doing so well," he continued, his voice gentle now as if he knew I was teetering on the edge of my limits. "Such a good girl for me. Just one more, darling. I know you can give me one more."

I whimpered, my nails digging into his back as I clung to him, feeling like I might break apart at the seams. Rhys always knew exactly how to push me—just far enough to test my limits, but never so far that I couldn't handle it. And right now, his voice, his praise, was the only thing keeping me from falling apart completely.

"Please," I begged, my voice hoarse from crying out his name over and over. "Rhys, I—"

"I know," he soothed, his lips brushing over the tears staining my cheeks. "I know, darling. You can come. Let go f’me."

His thumb circled my clit with devastating precision, and my body betrayed me, a fresh wave of pleasure crashing through my already trembling frame. The orgasm hit me harder than any before, and I felt myself unraveling in Rhys' arms. My entire body tensed, my toes curling as another sob escaped from the back of my throat, my mind going blank as all I could feel was him—everywhere, inside and out.

"Good girl," he praised, his voice thick with satisfaction. "That's it, come for me. Give me everything, darling."

I shattered completely, the pleasure so intense that I couldn't even scream. My body convulsed around him, my nails raking down his back as I clung to him like he was the only thing anchoring me to the earth. And I clamped down, hard. He groaned at the pressure, even pulling out and pushing in was an effort I was so tight around his cock.

His muscled back shifted beneath my nails as his cock twitched against my sensitive walls, and then warmth flooded my fluttering core as he finally found his release, his seed seeping into each of my crevices, implanting inside of me thoroughly for the fourth time that day.

“So, so good. All for me, right?” He said, his voice raw and slightly groggy as he spoke beside my ear.

I nodded weakly, tears streaming down my face as my body sagged into the bed, completely spent. Every muscle felt limp, exhausted from the endless waves of pleasure, and my chest heaved as I struggled to catch my breath. But even as I fell apart, Rhys was there, his strong hands guiding me through every movement, his soothing words wrapping around me like silk.

"So beautiful," he whispered, his voice nurturing as he slowed his movements, finally giving me the mercy I so desperately needed. "You're so beautiful like this, darling. Completely mine."

I whimpered, barely able to respond, but he pressed a soft kiss to my lips, his mouth gentle against mine. "Shh, I've got you," he whispered. "You're safe, darling. You did so well."

His praise was endless, a constant stream of soft murmurs as he continued to press kisses to my flushed cheeks, my forehead, and the corner of my mouth. Each one felt like a reward, and even through the haze of exhaustion, I felt my heart swell at his words.

He held me close, his body still pressed against mine as he finally eased out of me, the loss of his warmth making me whimper. But Rhys was quick to soothe me, guiding my legs together, and allowing me to breathe a long sigh of relief.

"You were perfect," he murmured, sidling into the space beside me and pulling me close to his chest, as if unable to let me go after being connected all day. His fingers stroked through my hair as my breathing slowly steadied. "You always are."

I sighed, pressing my face into the crook of his neck, the warmth of his body and the soft praise in his voice lulling me into a comfortable haze. I felt safe, cherished, and completely undone in the best way possible.

I look into his dilated, violet eyes. Seeing only worry and admiration in that familiar gaze, none of the dark lust from earlier remained.

"Too much?" he asked, a hint of playful concern in his voice as his fingers traced lazy circles on my skin, over my hip, along my spine.

I managed a weak smile, eyes heavy with exhaustion. "Maybe just a little," I say, voice scratchy from screaming his name.

Rhys chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through his chest and into my very heart. "I'll keep that in mind for next time." He murmured, pressing a loving kiss to my forehead.

I groaned lightly at the promise in his voice, but couldn't find the energy to do much more. He shifted, pulling a blanket over our naked bodies before shifting me more comfortably against him.

For a long while, neither of us spoke, content to simply bask in the aftermath of the moment. My eyes fluttered closed, but before I could drift off completely, I felt Rhys's fingers tangle in my hair, his voice a soft murmur against the quiet.

"I love you," he said, his tone serious now, reverent.

My heart stuttered in my chest at the tender emotion in his voice, my eyes blinking open to find him staring down at me with that deep, endless devotion.

"I love you too," I whispered, barely able to find my voice.

He smiled then, the kind of smile that melted the world away, making me feel like nothing else mattered but this moment, the two of us wrapped up in each other. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to my lips—gentle this time, doting. And at that moment, with my heart still racing from the pleasure and the love swirling between us, I knew there was nowhere else I’d rather be.

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[hayatoseyepatch]

𝕯𝖊𝖘𝖈𝖗𝖎𝖕𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓: Missing you, your boyfriend hated being apart from you. So what happens when he can finally get his hands on you once more?

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖆𝖈𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖘: Gen Narumi & Soshiro Hoshina

𝖂𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝕮𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙: 2k.

𝕮𝖔𝖓𝖙𝖆𝖎𝖓𝖘: Gen Narumi & Soshiro Hoshina x Fem!Reader (seperate). (SMUT). 𝖈𝖜: oral (female receiving), minor impact play, dirty talk, praise, degradation, taking photos, oral (male receiving), marking, mentions of breeding.

𝕬𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗’𝖘 𝕹𝖔𝖙𝖊: Two fics in one week? From me? Unheard of. Listen if this isn't proof of how much Kaiju No. 8 has consumed me I don't know what is honestly. I'm still messing around with writing for them and getting a sense of their personalities so please be kind to me. Anyway, I hope you enjoy! (ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ.ﾟ

Seeing the way you were laid beneath him blurred his mind in a cloud of lust and need. He justified his upcoming actions under false pretenses of you needing a "punishment” from earlier, when in all reality it was his own selfish need to taste you, unable to remember the last time he spent an extended period of time between your soft thighs. So rather than fulfilling your request of filling you with his cock he begins the long and tortuous process of trailing kisses down your frame, grinning against your skin as he feels your body arch into his touch, finally ending his slow descent by tugging the waistband of your panties back with his teeth, shivering in anticipation at the sound of the elastic snapping against your skin. Having enough of his own teasing he leans back groaning upon seeing the drenched material of your panties. “Holy shit babygirl, look at you, you're fucking soaked. And it's all for me, I can't wait to taste you, doll.”

He impatiently gripped the fabric of your drenched panties, tugging it off of your frame in one swift motion. Quick to pocket the article of clothing for later use, before laying flat on his front, settling himself between your legs, hooking a thumb in a fold pulling the skin to the side to expose you fully to his prying eyes. “Jesus, doll, god you're so fucking beautiful, I can't fucking stand it. Gotta commit this shit to memory.” His voice has a gravel, need consuming the octave in which his words are spoken.

He removes his phone from his pocket sliding up to access the camera to snap a photo of your exposed heat, making a mental note to use that the next time he was missing you on a mission, or maybe even send it to a certain vice-captain as a reminder of what he would never be able to get his hands on. Finally, needing to taste you before he drives himself insane, he dives down licking a fat stripe up your center.

Narumi lets his tongue circle your clit, alternating between flattening his tongue and applying just the right amount of pressure to caress the hardened nub, feeling himself getting drunk on the taste of you. “Ge-“ Any words you would try and formulate die on your tongue, getting cut off by his actions, hand flying to his hair to grip at it for leverage. A loud whimper left your lips, a near scream of his name close to follow. “Gen, please, I need you! Please, I love your mouth, but I really want you, I need you so badly.. feel so empty, haven't felt full since last time..”

Your words come out desperate, senseless pleas for him to do something, anything, to qualm the empty feeling of your cunt as it clenched around nothing. Knowing just what to say to push him over the edge and have him give you just what you were craving. Gripping the back of his hair, tugging him away from your cunt enough so you could look at him between your thighs. Eyes clouded with lust as you look into his own, their vermillion barely recognizable, his pupils blown so wide with lust. Your words are purred into the air, knowing that by the end of your sentence, you would have him hook, line, and sinker.

“I really need you to fill me up, Gen. Put a baby inside of me, I need you please, Gen.” You maintained eye contact looking at him between your plump thighs, hearing the groan that bubbled up from his throat in response to your words. For as good as he looked there, the tears that lined your lashline only enforced the need behind your words, the very same need that caused the mess between your legs in the first place. Narumi feels himself being pulled out of his haze only when your words sink in. He debates filling you with his fingers, desperate to get more of a taste of your sweet cunt, but Narumi was nothing if not willing to appease your needs. He could not deny his own needs any longer, the fabric of his pants and the plush of the mattress beneath him doing nothing to qualm his need like burying himself inside you would. Though what really sent him into a frenzy, was one phrase in particular, you always knew just what to say to drive him insane.

“Yeah, doll? Need me to fill that slutty cunt baby? Want me to fold you in half and breed you, princess? Do you want me to really make you a mommy, huh baby? Well, how could I possibly say no?” He smirks, parting from his position between your legs, leaning back on the heels of his feet before ripping down the zipper of his pants. With expert fingers, he was quick to free his aching cock from the confined of his pants, parting your legs further as he gazes at your exposed figure beneath him. Unable to help himself, he lands a harsh slap against your cunt. His grin was feral, your slick glistening against his chin. His hand soon finds a home against your throat, the other gripping the base of his cock lining it up with your entrance. “Tell me, doll, before I ruin you. Who's perfect pussy is this, hm?”

Hoshina never fared well when you both were apart. That proof was evident in the way he was on you the moment you returned to base. The mission your platoon had been dispatched on just so happened to be in his brother’s sector, fueling his need to claim you once more. His lips were all over your skin, sharp canines marking your neck, the darkened skin being his solace the insatiable need to have physical evidence that you belonged to him consuming him. He was always like this when you had to be in the presence of his brother. Their rivalry surviving even after all of these years. Knowing that you decided he deserved a little assurance. This was the only true spot of insecurity, and you intended to let him know just how much he’d never have to worry when it came to you. Stepping forward, gently guided him backward until the backs of his knees came into contact with the edge of the bed, pushing his shoulders until he sat on the mattress.

Now that the both of you were separated from the intense kiss, both of your lips swollen from the intensity of the embrace, he was free to look up at you curiously. His hands flew to your waist, pulling you flush against him. One hand pushing up the fabric of your sleep shirt, exposing your bare top half to his hungry gaze. He was quick to reattach his lips to your skin, using the height difference from you standing between his legs to his advantage. His other hand gripping the soft plush of you ass, using his hold on you as leverage to pull you closer. His tongue lolling out of his mouth, he was quick to take a hardened bud between his lips. His tongue rolling against it, coming to a point to flick at the sensitive area before letting his teeth capture it. Pulling his head back to tug until releasing, pupils blows wide seeing the bounce of the plush flesh he was rewarded with. He was quick to give the other the same treatment. “So fucking beautiful, baby, and all fucking mine.”

You run your fingers through his hair, letting out a soft moan at the attention he was giving to your body. “Yes Shiro, I’m all yours baby.” Your voice is breathy from the pleasure you were receiving, head falling back as you relish in the feeling of his expert mouth. “Missed you so much baby.” You coo, hands coming to his shoulder to push him away a bit. He was confused for a moment, if you missed him why were you pushing him away? Before he could protest or chase your skin with his mouth, you capture his lips in a deep kiss, hand trailing down his body before finding purchase on his hardened cock through the fabric of his pants. Giving it a squeeze, Hoshina can’t help but buck his hips into your hand, his body reacting subconsciously. You pull from the kiss, a string of saliva connecting your lips for just a moment before snapping. Looking into his hooded eyes, you let a grin slip its way onto your features.

Usually, Hoshina was always in control, working your body over and over again until the only word you could think to speak was his name. But not this time. This time you would be taking care of him. Dropping to your knees between his legs on the floor, your hands on his knees pushing his thighs apart. “let me show you just how much I missed you Shiro.” You coo, hands working dutifully on his pants, pulling his hard cock from its confines. His tip was already drooling with precum, the sight of it alone enough for your mouth to water. Ducking your head down you allow your tongue to collect his salty essence. “Fuck.” His hand flies to your hair, digits tangling in your locks. His word only fuels your actions. Steadying his cock with a hand at his base, your tongue circles his cockhead. Maintaining eye contact as you make out with his tip. “Fuck baby, please missed you too much, don’t tease.”

The plea in his voice was all it took for you to take his cock into your mouth. The groan that rumbles in his throat nearly muffles the sounds of your bobbing. Moving your head up and down on his length. Flattening your tongue on the underside of his cock, making sure to pay special attention to the vein that ran along his member. His fingers gripped the hair atop your head using it to guide your head up and down on his length, tears collecting at your lashline as the head of his cock kissed the back of your throat. “Fuck, kitten, so fucking good for me. That’s my girl taking my cock so fucking well, gonna make me cum baby, fuck.” He exclaims, throwing his head back in pleasure.

His hips bucking uncontrollably, effectively fucking your face. His hips begin to stutter, his vison going white as the coil in his stomach snaps. “Cumming, fuck kitten, fuck!” With only a few more bobs of your head, he fills your mouth with his seed, shuddering as he feels your throat contract as you swallow. His chest rises and falls as he catches his breath, coming down from his high. He spares a glance at you, seeing the way you let your tongue slide from your mouth, showing him your now empty mouth. His eyes darken, and before you could blink he swiftly grabs you, the world shifting as he swaps your positions. Your back hits the mattress, his larger form caging you in, lips capturing yours in a desperate kiss. His hips roll against your own, his cock already growing hard again. His next words are spoken between panted breaths against your lips. “That was quite the show, kitten. Now its my turn to show you just how much I missed my pretty little cunt, yeah?”

Dividers by @/saradika-graphics. Banners & writing by me. Tagging: @pixelcafe-network @interstellar-inn.

[captain-bubble-wrap]

Your dark Quinn is DELICIOUS! May we have more!?

I can't get the gif of Quinn out of my mind from the awards last season. The one where hesfixining his tie? Can we get some outfit picking? Quinn approving and disapproving of the reader's dresses for the upcoming awards show?

Please,make my dreams come true? ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Nonnie...I went down a very slutty rabbithole with this one. If you (or anyone else) don't want 1,500 words of smut right out the gate. Ignore this one. If you'd like a redo, let me know, please!

It goes without saying: dark sexual themes throughout, just....dark everything. There's too much to list. 18+ Rated A for Adult, lol. Y'all know the drill!

"Darling, I need you to show me what you're planning on wearing next weekend," Quinn spoke, giving you a sideways glance as you passed by him in the living room. You stopped when he spoke to you, giving him your full and undivided attention anytime he spoke to you. He'd beckon you to come closer to the sofa where he sat, instructing you to sit and straddle his hips before he'd continue. His hands found the curve of your hips like a magnet, fingers clawing at them gently, while your hands rested on the top of his shoulders.

"Do you have an idea of what you want to show me?" He pressed, bouncing you with his leg a couple times so you slid closer to his chest.

"I have several I think you'd like," you smiled, keeping your hands where they were, but wanting to play with his hair. Your eyes remained on his, knowing he didn't like when they wandered.

Quinn breathed deep the smell of your shampoo as he leaned up into you to place a kiss to your exposed collarbone. His hands trailed from your shorts, up under the hem of your tank-top, to tease your taut nipples with the soft pads of his thumbs. Your sharps gasps brought a smirk to his lips while he continued to dot your skin with his affections, careful not to leave a mark anywhere it might be seen by a prying camera.

"Someone's a little needy this morning," he teased, working fast circles on your left bud while your hips grinded against him. You could feel your heartbeat pounding between your legs, just wanting to beg him to touch you but you knew he wouldn't. It was a treat that he was even letting you tease yourself through the friction of your cloth shorts. You could already feel the fabric grow cool from your arousal.

"What are you doing, princess?" He hummed, feeling you try to push deeper into his hips; struggling to press your clit on something that would give you the stimulation you craved.

Your answer to his question was simply a moan, as his tongue took over for his finger. His hot breath and spit against your sensitive button sent a fresh wave of tingles coursing through your body, Your pussy ached for the feeling of a touch that wasn't your own, of something you couldn't anticipate the sensation of.

"Answer me, sweetheart, or you'll be grounded."

/Grounded./ Quinn's definition of the word meant no orgasms, either by your own doing or his, no matter how much you begged, promised, or cried. He'd get you just to the point of release, time-after-time, just to leave you in tears while he walked away, making you think he was going to lift your punishment when in reality it only made it worse. You had only been "grounded" once, and it had been the worst week you could remember. You had never felt more desperate, more needy, or touch starved than the week he kept you waiting. But god, when he finally let you come, you felt weightless for an hour afterwards.

"I want you to touch me, please," you replied, breathlessly following his one and only warning, stopping your movements while he spoke.

Quinn's tone deepened, "Do you want me to touch you, or do you want to get off?"

"Both," you answered immediately, your chest heaving.

He just grinned at your answer, that devious smirk that drove you equally as crazy as it frightened you.

"Get up, princess," he ordered, withdrawing his hands from your body, leaving you stunned and fearful you had answered incorrectly. "Now."

Without needing another push, you pulled yourself off of him and stood beside him, trying so hard to be patient.

"In my lap, sweetheart."

Swallowing hard, you did as you were told, and soon found yourself between his thighs, your hands resting on either side of him.

"You're such a good girl, doing as you're told so quickly," he growled deeply into your ear. "I don't like having to tell you twice. Thank you for not making me do that."

"You're-- welcome," you choked out, finding yourself nervous for whatever was about to happen. You mind was fuzzy with wants and unspoken desires, making it harder to focus on the present.

Quinn's breathy laugher sent goosebumps across your skin as his right hand roamed. "I like to reward good girls."

His fingers slipped under the band of your shorts and painfully slow, inched across your bare skin until he discovered just how wet you were for him. You never disappointed him on that front, and he loved being surprised with just how intense it was. There were few things that topped how his fingers felt when you craved him so badly, they were a second to his tongue, of course. Your back arched against him as he traced the outline of your lips so lightly you had to focus to feel it. He was playing with you, but it didn't matter: you were getting what you had asked for, and if you played your cards right, he'd complete both of your wants at once.

"You get so wet so fast, princess. I hardly even touched you. Tsk, tsk, tsk," his tongue ticked against the back of his teeth. "Such a desperate little thing you are, aren't you?"

"Yes!" You moaned as he slipped his index into you, the sound of your wet sex popping in the quietness of his apartment while he buried his finger into you as deep as the angle would allow him. You were tightening against him, pushing into each thrust with quickening desperation.

Having given you a taste of what you could expect later, Quinn withdrew his finger, slick with your fluids, and took to rapidly stroking your plump clit. Your moans grew deeper, and more consistent with each wave of pleasure that washed over you.

"You sound so beautiful, sweetheart." He whispered, nuzzling into your neck as you continued to grind against his hand. You tried to grasp at the cushions for something to hold on to, but you just couldn't get your fingers around enough of it to do any good. Instead, your right hand would find the top of his, as he continued to play with you; your fingers sliding down his.

"Maybe I should make you get yourself off?" Quinn teased, feeling your hand press against his.

"Please, no," you begged, eyes closed in complete bliss.

"But you seem so eager to help. Do you want to feel how wet you are?"

Quinn slipped his hand from beneath yours and forced you to touch yourself, his fingers instructing where and how fast. You already knew you were past the point of being a dripping mess, and you couldn't deny how good it felt to have him show you how to pleasure yourself. Your moans continued, short and high-pitched as his pressure grew against your clit with that of your own fingers.

"That's enough," he hushed, making you take your hand away reluctantly. "That's for me to do."

The next time his fingers would separate your aching slit, your legs would involuntarily spread wider, as you pushed back against the pleasure. Every sensation felt so heightened, so intense, while you teetered on the edge of numbness. Quinn was grinning as he nipped at your shoulder, wanting to leave the darkest hickey on your shoulder yet he had to restrain himself. His fingers switched between rolling your clit under his fingertips to seeing how far he could bury his fingers inside of you.

"How good do you taste?" He asked, ordering you to clean off your fingers of your own arousal. "Good?"

"Yes," you replied, after sucking your fingers clean on demand.

"I can't wait to taste you," he murmured, his hum of his voice shooting like a vibration between your legs, a fresh supply of that slick nectar coating his fingers. "Ah, fuck.'

Quinn hissed against his tightening cock pressing against the zipper of his pants. Each time you thrusted against his touch, it teased him and you could feel him press up into you. He was hard, making you want to ask him if he'd fuck you right there.

"Do you feel what you do to me?"

"Yes."

"Good girl." Upon the praise, Quinn buried two fingers deep into you, for the final push to get you to come when he said so. You were close; you had been since touching yourself. Your mouth was growing dry, having to constantly gasp for air against the throaty moans he was causing you to expel. You wanted to come, yet you didn't want to have his fingers be gone from your body.

"Are you going to come hard for me, sweetheart?"

"Uh-huh," you nodded, mouth open and eyes rolled back as you met his thrusts. His beautiful fingers lost inside your wetness just made you quicken your pace. He knew you were desperate to come, and he was nearing letting you finally let go. Just a few more minutes under his control was all he selfishly wanted and he'd get it, too.

"You've made such a mess."

"I know, I'm sorry," you whined, absolutely pathetic and lost in his touches.

"What do you want?"

"I want to come," you cried out.

"What else?" He dared you to say what you wanted later.

"I want-- I want to--," you were struggling to speak in complete sentences, and for good reason. Quinn had two fingers, knuckle-deep inside of you, pressing you to do what you were told. "I want to feel myself tighten around your cock, daddy!"

You were drooling as Quinn smirked behind you. Your hips were pushing against his erection harder now, causing Quinn to have to issue you a warning.

"Careful, princess. Not so hard; I'm not inside of you yet." His voice was low as he bit your ear. "Eager little daddy's girl, hm?"

"Yes!" You gasped, feeling Quinn's fingers slip back to your sensitive clit. You didn't know how much longer you could hold on.

Feeling you had deserved to finally have your release, Quinn brought his left hand to your throat and squeezed just enough to heighten the last few moments of pleasure. "You've done so well for me, baby. You've made daddy so proud. Would you like to come now?"

"Yes-- Yes, daddy, please! Please!"

With his lips right next to your ear, he breathed that phrase you had been craving, "Come for me, princess."

Your ears were ringing, legs were Jell-o, and your whole body was tingling as you were finally granted the extended orgasm you had begged for. Your moans were loud, but sounded so sweet to Quinn. He loved how your voice sounded at this stage, your fingers clawing at his skin, and you going limp against him as wave after wave of bliss flooded every one of your senses.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered again, holding you tightly against his chest, your back still to him. Your head had fallen back against the sofa, as you struggled to catch your breath. The room was spinning but you felt so good that it didn't matter.

"Are you okay, sweetheart?" Quinn asked softly, giving you as much time as you needed to find yourself again. He had all day, and he was kind enough to let you use as much as was necessary.

"Mhm," you mumbled, your voice sleepy. "Thank-- thank you."

"But of course," he said, a smile in his tone. "Take your time. There's no rush, but I'm going to take my fingers away, alright?"

You bit your lip and nodded; your hips jerked feeling his fingers withdraw from your over-stimulated petals. However, you quickly melted back into a feeling of weightlessness as Quinn's arms snaked around your waist, holding you tightly and keeping you right against him.

"Still okay?"

"Mhm."

Smiling, Quinn tightened his hold on your, nuzzling against your bare shoulder. "How about I get you cleaned up and you play dress-up for me, hm?"

You would nod again, and he'd let you get away with not using your words when he asked you a question. Quinn believed in a free pass every once in a while.

"Alright, swing your legs over, princess, and I'll carry you."

"I can--," you mumbled, still sleepy but you'd be interrupted.

"You can't walk, don't lie to me. I can see you're still shaking. You'd fall down if you tried to stand, and I won't have that. Legs. Don't make me ask again, sweetheart."

Swinging them to the left, this would be the first time seeing his face since he told you to get up and turn around. Your hair had fallen down from the messy bun it had been in, sweat had your skin glowing, and your bottom lip was red from how many times you had rolled it between your teeth. Quinn pulled your shirt back down before placing one last kiss to your exposed neck. He always led with his tongue. Your eyes would roll closed, feeling your core tense up in eager anticipation all over again.

"Just one last little tease, baby," he whispered. "There will be time for more later."

Hiding your face in the curve of his neck as he stood to his feet, you'd find yourself smiling at the thought.

- - -

The bath had been so relaxing.

Quinn had washed your face while the water filled, and made sure you didn't have to lift a finger for anything. All he had asked, was that you sipped at the glass of water he had given you. Everything he did was calculated, unhurried, and almost painfully soft. Even has he washed your hair, his fingers were careful never to pull through a snag. You were his little doll, and the most delicate of treatment would be afforded to you every time.

"Do you need anything else?" He asked, kneeling down to be level with you. You hadn't bounced back as quickly as he thought you would have, so he was keeping a close eye on you just to be sure. "You're sure you're okay?"

"I think so," you replied, eyes searching his face for a hint of what could be the reason for him still asking the same question so many times. He always checked in, but this seemed different. "Is something wrong?"

He smiled, "That's for me to worry about."

You remained quiet. You felt okay other than you were just physically drained.

"Have you had anything to eat today?" Quinn's eyes narrowed slightly, knowing you had a bad habit of forgetting meals.

Your guilty eyes fell from his face in an instant and you knew you'd have to answer for it. "Toast."

"Sweetheart, you can't live solely on toast."

"I know, but--" You went to bite down on your lip again, but you stopped yourself, just like you stopped yourself from saying something that would get you in trouble. "I'm sorry. I'll be better."

Quinn's hand found the side of your jaw, holding it to keep your gaze where he wanted it. "Thank you." His smile was minimal but spoke volumes, mostly that of how pleased he was at how well you knew your place and what he expected of you. When he called you a good girl, it was because you really were one.

"You stay here and relax a little more, and I'm going to make you something for lunch. Ah--," he stopped, putting his thumb to your lips to keep your mouth closed. "I'll come get you when I'm done. Do you understand?"

With his thumb tracing your lips, you'd give a nod to his question.

His smile deepened as he pulled your face to his for a kiss, making you work for it as the water sloshed about with you having to struggle to meet him. "That was mean of me," he lamented, finally letting you slide back into the warm comfort of the water. "You should be resting."

Quinn would kiss the top of your head before getting to his feet and leaving the room. However, before completely exiting, he'd turn to look at you, his eyes dark, "I expect you to be where I left you when I come back, princess. Towels and floors best still be dry."

"I promise."

"Thank you," he said, finally disappearing from your line of sight.

The water was still steaming hot, but you knew he wouldn't forget you, and leave you to sit in cold water. Having a moment in your own thoughts, you remember what he had asked of you. The NHL Awards were next weekend and you needed some black-tie-level dress to wear. You knew you had several such gowns hanging in Quinn's closet, you just weren't sure which one would be the one he'd pick. Mentally, you'd flip through each of them, deciding which ones you'd reach for, and which you'd pass on when asked to finally try them on. At the moment, you knew of five you knew he'd show interest in. One he hadn't seen yet.

Twenty minutes later, Quinn would return to the bathroom, and was pleased to find you sipping from your glass and just as promised.

"Ready to get out?"

"Yes, please."

- - -

Quinn laughed, setting down the bowl of lemon and herb pasta in front of you. "Do you want me to feed you?" You couldn't tell if he was being serious or actually joking with you. His laugh should have given it away, but the sheer nature of it all seemed very honest.

"I can manage," you replied softly, hopeful he wouldn't take offense. "Thank you."

"I know you can, just having a bit of fun," he winked, though a part of him did wonder how that would go if he told you that you just had to sit there while he brought food to your mouth. A thought for another day, perhaps. "I want you to let me know how you feel in a little bit."

"I will," you reassured. "I'm okay, Quinny."

Quinn turned his head, his brows raised. "That's for me to decide."

You adverted your eyes from his face, focused now on the marble veins of the island. You knew you had just spoken out of place and now you feared the consequences. You could hear his footsteps move back towards you, and through your peripheral you could see him headed to come up behind you.

"Do you think I don't know when there's something wrong with you, hm?"

Quinn's finger traced the curve of your spine through the black silk, slip dress he had chosen for you following your bath. You shuddered against his touch, eyes closing unsure of what he was going to do next.

"You do, I'm sorry! I didn't mean it that way."

His fingers continued to inch upwards, following your neck until the digits were buried deep in your freshly dried hair, coiling around it tightly. He had a fistful when he pulled you backwards, your eyes snapping open when you felt like you were going to fall off of the kitchen stool. You would be looking at the ceiling when Quinn stepped into your view, still gripping your hair by the roots.

"Have I ever been wrong?"

"No," you yelped, the nape of your neck more sensitive than you could remember. "You know better than I do! I'm stupid, I'm sorry."

Quinn's fingers let go in an instant, allowing you to pull yourself back up and catching your breath. He stepped around to your right, taking the empty seat beside you.

"Look at me," he ordered, causing you to turn your whole body to face him. "Never say anything like that about yourself, princess. You're not stupid. I don't like hearing you put yourself down, especially when it's incorrect. Understood?

"Yes," you replied quickly, trying to steady your breathing, but it was turning into a struggle.

Quinn's hand would touch your thigh and move upwards, stopping when his wrist reached the hem. "You're never stupid," he reiterated.

You sniffled, as you nodded at his statement. He knew you were sorry so you refrained from uttering the constant apology.

"What am I going to do with you?" He mumbled, looking you over as you continued to face him. Quinn reached forward for your silverware then the white ceramic bowl, his left hand still gripping your upper thigh.

With a perfect piece of bowtie pasta perched on the tines of the fork, Quinn instructed you to open your mouth. He'd feed you the whole bowl, one piece at a time.

- - -

Quinn sat on the edge of the bed, watching you as you thumbed through the hangers, looking for the dresses you had in mind for the following weekend. He finally felt confident that you were well enough to entertain his private little show. You were barefoot, wearing only the silk slip dress, and your hair was pulled back in a large, black hairbow. While on your tiptoes, he gazed at the curve of your calves, upwards to your full thighs and bum. So many places for his hands to hold, but he'd restrain himself from telling you to come over. He'd get the opportunity soon enough.

You decided to pull first the dress that he hadn't yet seen -- start strong right out the gate. It was black, floor-length and off the shoulder with long sleeves, with a single, thigh-high slit on the left side. No sparkles, no lace, just the dull satin to hug your body. Minimal but stunning.

Quinn would watch you let the slip dress fall from your body to a minimal pile on the floor as you stepped into the gown, pulling it up over your hips before it pulled your cleavage into place. You'd get the zipper up as far as your could on your own before he finally spoke to you.

"Come here."

As instructed, you'd saunter over, the slight train dragging behind you as you made your way across the room. And when told to turn around, you'd do so. Quinn's warm fingertips touched your back gently as he pulled the zipper up the remainder of the way.

"I like this one. Face me again." As you turned, his hands felt your curves until you were once against standing in front of him. "Set this one aside. I want to see something else before I decide."

He'd give you a nod to return to the closet and pick another for his viewing pleasure. The next one was similar, only it fully covered your chest while the entire back was out. Quinn wasn't as pleased with this one as he had the first.

"It's alright, but the first one suited you more. Put it back on for me."

Again, you'd find yourself walking back across the room, your heart beat quickening as you remembered just how much trying on anything for him made you wet. Any time you had taken photos for him while he was away turned you on so much that it made it easy to record a little something extra for him with nearly no effort. This was proving to be no different.

With the dress back on, you'd return to his side but this time he wouldn't complete the zipper. Instead Quinn would rise to his feet, a look in his eyes like he was plotting something.

"Over the bed, princess."

There it was. This was the "later" he had mentioned before carrying you off to the bath.

Doing as you were told, you bent over the bed, your arms outstretched in front of you, face down into the duvet, as you knew what that meant. You tried to contain your breathing, hiding that you were anxiously awaiting his next move. Quinn's hands gripped the curves of your hips as he pressed himself into you, forcing your legs wider apart with his foot. Your stomach tightened as you found yourself aching for his touch again. Slowly, the fabric of the dress was inched up until you were exposed in front of him.

"You deserve this," he said, the sound of a smirk in his tone. The smack he'd give to your ass stung like a hot iron but you couldn't lie -- it had felt good. "Did you like that?"

"Yes," you giggled, getting a rise out of Quinn.

"Oh, did you now?" While he was talking to you, you hadn't heard the sounds of him removing his pants, but what you felt next had you clawing at the sheets.

"Can you take all of me, princess?" He asked, teasing the head of his cock against your throbbing sex.

"Yes!" You cried out, your eagerness getting the better of you again, making Quinn laugh softly. "Please!"

He'd enter your awaiting folds in one, full thrust, pushing you deeper into the mattress. You'd moan into the blankets but the sound was hardly muted. With one hand, Quinn braced himself, while the fingers of his other slipped beneath the folds of the dress to flick your sensitive clit. Like before, you'd push back into him, feeling the pleasure strike you all at once. Each stroke he blessed you with was met with a deep thrust in tandem. All you could do was grab at the blanket beneath you and gasp for air between moans.

Adrenaline was making your hearing fade, but you could hear him enter you again, and again -- the bed thumping against the wall slightly. Everything felt so good: his cock plunging deep into you, his soft fingers teasing you devilishly, keeping you so close to the edge of ruin.

"You're so pretty, darling -- say it back. Tell me you're pretty."

You were so lost in the multitude of sensations rattling your cage that you almost didn't hear Quinn talking to you. You swallowed hard, gasping for air to help you form the words he wanted you to say.

"I'm pretty!"

"Mhmmmm, and you're prettiest when you're get so wet for me, aren't you?"

"Yes, daddy!"

"That's right. You're doing so well for me, but I think you can do better."

Upon issuing you the challenge, Quinn's pace quickened, and you were all but biting at the sheets. Slick fingers caressed your clit with such pressure you nearly forgot to breathe. Just when you thought you'd hit your limit, Quinn demanded more from you, more patience, more self-control.

"There you go," he purred. "Hold on until I tell you not to."

You wanted to scream. Your brain was pudding, but that release was so close, one thought and you'd explode. He was railing you so hard into the mattress you had to constantly keep grabbing new fistfuls of the duvet to hold your place. You were on your tiptoes, cramps threatening to buckle your legs. It was so much to handle.

"Just a little more, princess. You can do it. Wait for me."

Had you been biting your lip, you would have tasted blood. Every muscle keeping you upright was at its limit, but you had to do what you were told. The last few minutes felt like an eternity. You were nearing the point of overstimulation.

"Now, princess, tell me what you want." His voice was strained, trying to hold himself together.

"Come in me, daddy! Please!"

His release shot into you before you were finished uttering the words.

Eyes rolled in your head when he finally granted you your reward for being so good, "Let go, darling. Come for me."

Your back arched, pushing yourself down on him one more time before he pulled out, leaving himself dripping down your leg. "That's a good girl," he finished, leaving a kiss between your shoulder blades after you had collapsed into the bed. You would have slumped to the floor in a heap had Quinn not pulled you into his embrace on the bed. You couldn't find your breath at first.

"You're alright, breathe. Breathe with me, sweetheart."

You were crashing, reduced to a girl puddle in a black gown.

"I definitely want you to wear that dress. I'll be sure to fuck you in it afterwards, so you can just be a desperate mess for me the whole night, remembering what I've already done to you in it. Can you do that for me?"

"Yes, daddy," you whispered, throat sore from gasping for air so many times.

"Thank you, princess." Quinn said, his arm tightening around you, as you went limp. You were exhausted and in need of another bath. For now, he'd just hold you while you had a little nap. You had earned that and much more.

[sundew199]

Tease

tags: roronoa zoro x f!reader, riding, teasing, smut, just smth short and sweet I've been thinking abt for Zoro.

Thinking about how much Zoro loves it when you ride him, how he crumbles underneath you no matter how fast or slow you go. He's always palming your ass, letting his fingers create little crescent shapes in the flesh as he helps you move up and down, only sometimes. He'll be so lost in the sensation of your cunt dragging up and down on his shaft the only thing he can mutter is little curses and your name.

Zoro especially loves it when you just ride the tip of his dick, teasing him like he deserved to be punished, but you won't hear him complain. The heels of his palms will press into his eye sockets as his bottom lip quivers with the moans he trying to suppress.

You'll laugh under your breath and move his hands away from his eyes with the reasoning of wanting him to watch you as you only let just the tip enter you over and over in shallow thrusts. He's such a mess, overwhelmed and overstimulated with the clench and release just around the head of his cock, he can't take it.

"Ride me all the way." He'll plead, groping and massaging the flesh of your ass as a way to convince you to give him what he wants.

But you shake your head, thumb down on his bottom lip and look at him with pity. "Not yet."

Zoro's head will fall back onto the pillow and a guttural moan will rise up in his throat to coast along your ears, making your shutter and almost go against your own word from how seductive he sounds. Whatever it was about seeing Zoro in such pleasure had your head spinning and pussy throbbing even as he was inside you, barely.

Giving him just a taste, taking in just an inch or two more, he'll sigh, breath out your name so sweetly and look up at your with his one good eye. You'll admit, letting more of his thick cock inside enhances the stretch you crave, but you wanted to work your way down, ruin him along the way.

"Forgot how big you were-"

"No you didn't, stop teasing me and ride me woman." Brashly cutting off your taunting statement, narrowing his one good eye and slapping his palm clean across your ass cheek, prompting you to jolt and gasp. Maybe he thought he got the upper hand with the way his smirk curled into one corner of his mouth, quickly reminding him with a hand around his throat and a whispered reminder that he agreed to this.

Lately, Zoro has been all for relinquishing power to you in the bedroom if that's even the right way to put it. There weren't drastic power dynamics to begin with, but when he felt like it or was too tired, he'd let you order him around and he happily obliged, even if it was torture and felt like he were going to explode.

"But I thought it felt good, and you wanted me to keep doing it?" Leaning over, letting his dick slip out almost completely as you grabbed one side of his face.

"Yea I did, but now I just want to cum baby."

God, he sounded so winded, so defeated, you sympathized with your boyfriend. Kissing the side of his mouth, burying a hand in the back of the moss green hair, you sank down all the way abruptly. Zoro groaned deeply, burying his face in the space between your neck and shoulder, raking his nails down your back.

No time was wasted before his hips were rutting up into yours, holding you tight and still to his body as he sought out what he wanted from the beginning. His breath was hot on your skin, his teeth grazing ever so slightly, like he wanted to bite down, mark you in another way besides the hickeys he left along your collarbone and chest. He was so possessive sometimes, though it didn't make it any less hot how he wanted to make sure everyone knew you belonged to him.

"Shit - you did this on purpose, you know I'm not going to last much longer." Scolding you as if he weren't having the time of his life when you only rode the head of his cock, laughing softly and pulling his hair.

"Could've stopped me at any point Zoro." Laughing as you hooked your chin over his shoulder, sinking both nails into the tanned skin marred with scars and blemishes.

He didn't say anything back, because you knew he didn't have any sort of answer that could counter his actions, knowing full well he wouldn't have stopped you.

His thrusts got faster and more uncoordinated the closer he got, moaning into your skin like anyone could hear him. His fingers dug into your back and sides in the most delightful way, breaking your tender flesh in the most desperate way, like letting go was impossible for him.

Your name was murmured repeatedly in the mix of moans and whines, gasping as he hit the deepest part of you, letting his name come out broken and strained, both of you were close.

Zoro gave you two more powerful thrust, stilling completely after and coming off your shoulder to take in fresh air. All his cum could be felt inside you, his dick plugging it for the time being, knowing that was his intentions. Slowly leaning down for a kiss, Zoro met you with parted lips and a delightful hum, bringing you with him as he adjusted down to lay on the bed more.

"Gotta come up with more ways to tease you like this." Laughing into his lips, fluttering your fingers over and around his cheek, smiling harder to the exasperated sigh coming from him.

"Nap first, then you can do whatever wicked teasing you want to me."

[la2yn0va]

Killers with a Fanboy Reader

Characters: Ghostface, Sadako, Pyramid Head, The Pig.

Genre: Fluff, maybe slight romance(?)

Warnings; It’s DBD and ‘Killers’ take a fuckin guess on the warnings.

——

Ghostface

Oh? A fan! How absolutely wonderful!

Why of course you can take a picture!

Your Danny’s favorite person! You feed his ego and go on nerd rants with him about his killings and horror movies.

Danny will still kill you though. But don’t worry! You always die by HIS hands! Never sacrificed to the entity! Your picture is going in his favorite album folder!

But he’s also fine if you escape, hell he’d probably help you on a good day. The entity allows it, as your fanboying is causing GREAT emotion, so the spider god thing doesn’t much care.

You once asked danny to sign a dagger of yours that you play with to roleplay as him during your time in your world. Danny’s ego had never reached a high like that since.

And how absolutely adorable your little reactions are~ a slight cheek caress here and your red as fuck. Don’t worry, he’ll NEVER let you live that down.

Danny, when killing you, might’ve carved the word LOVE on your lower back. For no particular reason ;)

During trials, he’d either leave you as the last one alive or he’d kill you first. More often he’d leave you as the last one alive.

Or, maybe on rare days, he’d let you escape. As the entity doesn’t close monitor the trials (Confirmed by the DBD team in a live stream)

Sadako Yamamura

Hah? What’s wrong with you? Why’re you running TOWARDS her? Shes trying to kill you.

Absolutely shocked and taken off guard when you grab her hand and shake it at light speed, and proceed to… praise her?

Sadako genuinely has zero fucking clue how to react. All that hate, rage, and bloodlust is replaced with pure and unbridled confusion.

Is this a trick of sorts? Are you trying to manipulate her? Why’re you still shaking her hand? Why isn’t she killing you already?

And why do you know so much about her?! Sadako can’t even react with anything besides confusion towards you. Honestly, she just leaves you to your own devices and leaves to kill off all the other survivors.

You simply wave her off while hoping to meet again. Honestly, you’re so fucking weird.

Sadako does manage to kill off everyone else BUT you. Her confusion has now morphed into interest. She didn’t sense ANY type of malicious intent when you were praising her.

Instead she’d just watch you from a far, not really knowing how she should proceed. She SHOULD kill you right? That’s her purpose here, and your to die… or escape but that’ll never happen…. Right?

No no. That’s it, no more indecisiveness! No more tricks! You’re here to get sacrificed and she’s here to kill!

But that immediately goes out the window when you appear to be happy to see her again. Sadako simply tilts her head at everything you do towards her, taking, praising, shaking hands.

Eventually as time passes she grows pretty content with you. Enjoying your strange behavior and letting you live. Unless the entity DEMANDS your death, but she’ll definitely be very reluctant.

Sadako does enjoy touching you. Your skin is warm and surprisingly comfortable. She does wonder why your face turns red though, is it because of her? Or are you just that weird?

Doesn’t matter. In the end, sadako seems to enjoy your weirdness.

Pyramid Head

The executioners role in this dark game is to kill, and punish those who’re guilty of something. It’s a symbolic entity of James’s Guilt and masochistic desire to be punished for his guilt, taken physical form.

So when you approached him with starry eyes and an excited smile that seemed to be craved into your skin, the triangle headed man did not know how to proceed.

He was never actually liked, so BEING liked especially to the degree your showing him is… a new experience.

Honestly. He’d probably just leave you alone. Maybe he’d kill everyone else and leave you alive and… indulge in your questions?

Even though he can’t speak, he’ll just watch you do whatever while you fanboy and ask to touch his sword. (Get your mind outta the gutter)

He’d let survivors live if you ask him. More so because he doesn’t see any type of guilt in you or maybe because he grows to like you.

Either way, there’s nothing else to really say. He’s just kinda ‘Meh’ about your whole fanboying. Just don’t feel guilty about something, cause that’s when you’ll meet the executioner.

The Pig (Amanda)

Amanda is taken off guard when you don’t run away once she ambushes you. Instead you start… fanboying.

Hearing you praise her and go on about the reverse bear traps and jigsaw, along with how you love his work instantly earned you her favoritism.

She had actually found someone else who could see the genius of her master!

Amanda would always test you though, by putting on the reverse bear trap in you, and you ALWAYS survive.

Amanda lets you live, kills off everyone (or tries to) and then just hangs out with you for the rest of the trial.

The two of you just end up talking about jigsaw and nerding out, while she blushed behind her mask as you continue to fanboy about her and John.

Definitely would make you an unofficial member of jigsaw’s cause, and teaches you how to build your own reverse bear trap.

Would probably ask the entity to make you a killer, and the entity would probably accept. Just imagine the intense and delicious emotions that would come when that happened.

Amanda gives you your own get-up. You get your own pig mask and clothes, while she sits you down and teaches you the way of jigsaw.

Other killers find this pretty weird, except for maybe danny, who’d nerd out to horror with you.

Survivors fuckin hate you btw. Except sable who enjoys the trials (I think)

——

The end. I’m back boys! And I wanna focus on writing for DBD so please send in requests for DBD (killers get preferential treatment)

Also for the deleted post that I made for yall to guess my favorite Childhood ship without hints—the answer was …

[acexsmhking]

I saw your requests were closed but I was wondering (For when they're open) if you could write thigh riding Toby! <3

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Thigh Riding Tobias Rogers

note: FOR THE LOVE OF GOD. FOR THE LOVE OF GOD

Warning(s): 18+ content, thigh riding, FEM!Reader, mean!toby, mentions of drool,

Tobias is actually so mean when he makes you thigh ride. Not even joking. He loves seeing how fucking stupid and pathetic you look.

Toby typically makes you do it after you’ve been bratty, doesn’t matter how bratty, as long as you have been bratty he forces you to ride his thigh. Likes you being completely naked for it. Seeing your skin flushed with a thin sheen of sweat.

He’s so mean, degrading you as you beg for him. “Dreckige Hure, jetzt denk daran, dich besser zu benehmen, okay?” He chuckles, hands tightly gripping your hips as he moves you. As if you mean nothing, like you’re a doll, forcing you to grind on the rough material of his jeans.

Eyes glossy, lips swollen and red from him biting them. Your orgasm felt so close but so far at the same time, edging you so completely it drove you insane. Your body felt stuffy and hot, a fuzz in your head. Toby had a mean glint in his eyes as he lazily stared at you.

Relaxed as he slouched on the couch, hair messy from your fingers, with pretty hickies blooming on his skin. He’d flexed his thigh occasionally, edging you from pleasure and crude pain. You were sobbing as you begged for him. The tent in his hands made you drool. You craved him so badly.

“ ‘M sorry, please.” You sobbed, lip quivering as you grabbed onto his shirt. Tight fists wrinkling the soft cotton. He hummed, pulling you up from his thigh for a second. Moving you towards him. Soft kisses traced over all the angry bite marks he left on you. Thumbs rubbing circles on your hips.

“Sorry for what?” He grumbled, brow raised as he questioned you. “I’m sorry for being mean! Won’t do it ‘gain!” You whimpered, arching your back as you tried desperately to press against him. In great need of release and comfort.

His hands moved up your side, cradling your breasts as his thumbs gently moved against your nipples. A soft sigh leaving your lips as you leaned towards him, pressing soft, submissive kisses to the corner his lips. Your tongue licking the inside his mouth from his gnash. A move you knew drove him crazy.

He chuckled feeling your tongue licking his gums, hand patting your bum. “Behave, Lamm. I know you’re needy while I’m gone,” He sighed, pulling away from you and moving back to the couch. Settling you on his thigh once more, subtly bouncing it. You huffed, hands shaky as they held his hips trying to stabilize yourself.

“That doesn’t give you the right to have attitude with me.” He grumbled, brows furrowing as he watched you. You nodded frantically, fresh tears running down your cheeks. “I know! ‘M sorry, really.. please honey.” You moaned, his thigh moving against your clit. He released your hips again, angry hand marks on them. You quickly worked to get his shirt off.

Yeah, thigh riding is definitely a punishment for Toby, sometimes a gift. But he just loves seeing how mean he can be to you, and how much it’ll turn you on when he is. Maybe if you’re nice and beg for his forgiveness he’ll give you his cock sooner.

[qvrcll]

nsfw, fem reader, possession + biting

when coriolanus snow latches onto you, everything tends to burn. his fingers, his nails, his teeth, his lips - they all have a tendency for a craving when they’re near you.

and when he fucks, he fucks like its not beneath him. he fucks like a reverent and a lunatic, clutching at your sides like you’ll disappear on him like a fog and leave him behind like he has feared all along. claiming skin that he feels is his.

one night, in particular, he’s especially needy: hot all over, hands roaming the expanse of your back and pushing your body tightly against his. if he gave you time to recover from the melt of his kisses, you’d have recognised his heart for your own - thudding like something violent in his chest, able to be felt even with layers of clothing on. but he breathes you in like an tonic he has never felt before. in need of more, always.

“needy much?” you croak, feeling his rough hands catch against your throat as he grasps your cheeks. he intends to pull so you impossibly close to him, that the two of you might melt as one. how romantic.

he hisses when you bite his lip, take it between your stubborn canines and stay, “always. you - ah - know that.”

and it progresses into something bigger - his hands on your hips, nose nudging into your neck. he gets enthusiastic, gets riled up in places which are his forte - when this happens, it’s always his fingers that stretch you out first. one, two, and when you cry out loud, he’s staring at you with something ugly in his eyes.

possession. filthy, and wholly his. his eyes almost shift.

“poor, weeping little cunt is all mine, isn’t it?” he taunts you, voice against your breast as he takes your nipple to his teeth. the friction is lovely, delicious in a way, and you can’t blame the guttural moan that leaves you, or him, when you arch into his body. still, there’s no answer from you, “it’s mine. tell me, i need to hear it. that it’s mine.”

his fingers curl inside of you, the flex of them so nasty and painfully good that you never mean to squeal, but do anyways. he smiles at this. smiles at any twitch, any chance of your body betraying logic and following feeling, and he begins to slow his pace to filter that feeling as punishment.

and when you register this, you panic. your eyes are blown wide, quivering already when he hasn’t even given you a real fuck - “yours - yours! it’s yours, coryo. all - ugh - all… yours.”

his fingers flex, tighten.

“all mine? you sure?”

you can see him against your chest, eyes like that of a snake. glaring and wanting, poison in the air as he takes from you like a dog.

“yours, all yours - coryo, please!”

“shh. i know - that’s all i wanted to hear,” he smiles then, his fingers picking up an addicting pace, “i know, baby, i know… see, feels better doesn’t it?”

you nod, fervent and hot, in need of release. what impending release he has waiting for you. what utter cruelness he puts into his thrusts, his strokes. coriolanus is of much character, and still, he looms above. possesses you fully, like a thing for taking. you can barely see it now, but his eyes go dark with the lust of it.

and when he is fully sheathed inside, after much patience, he’s delirious. much more than before. you know this, he knows this, because his hips snap against yours so much more cruelly, faster and harder than anything else he’s given you in this room.

“coryo - oh god,” you cry, circling your legs against his hips, and the proximity it brings makes the two of you mewl against one another. when he thrusts again, its fire taking a lick at fire, and with filthiness forming inside of him, he takes to something more deranged. misplaced.

“you belong to me.”

you nod, hazy. not understanding to the best of your capabilities.

“you understand, don’t you? you’re smart, aren’t you? - ah,” he moans, and where he doesn’t, he bites the soft flesh of your neck until it grows tender with pain, “this,”

he picks a disgusting pace on your clit, fingers slipping,

“is all mine.”

the force of your orgasm isn’t superficial. it’s wrenched out from the deepest parts of you. when you lose consciousness, coriolanus slaps two fingers against your cheeks, chuckling when you blink back up blearily.

perhaps, so blearily that you don’t properly make out the sight of him popping two silver-stained fingers in his mouth, your spent too sweet for him to give up so easily. how delicious you taste, he marvels, the thought of it being all his more thrilling than for just one round.

(requests for snow / tbosas are open!)

© 2023 qvrcll. do not repost any of my works on any platform.

[bachibabe]

— 𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐨 𝐍𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐫 ♡

synopsis: oh no! what is a cursed spirit supposed to do when he gains interest in a mortal girl? probably not make sex dolls of her, kidnap her, then fuck her until she breaks. but no one told him that!

𖦹₊┆ mahito x fem! reader

𖦹₊┆ wc: 4.5k

𖦹₊┆ warnings: noncon, dubcon, kidnapping, sex doll, cruel and unusual punishment, mindbreak, fear play, blood, biting, marking, minimal prep, cervix bruising, dehumanization (?), creampie, mahito is gross, referring to the sex doll as if it was a real person

𖦹₊┆ notes: the fic ive been writing on and off for a month… she is my baby… i have birthed her. please please please read the warnings and enjoy <33 kms if this doesn’t show up in tags

18+ → minors / blank blogs dni

Creak.

Footsteps. Footsteps right in front of you. Right in front of your safe haven.

Please don’t stop. Please don’t stop. Please keep walking. Please. If there’s any god out there please make him keep walking.

Bang.

His fist hits the desk right above your head. Fuck. Fuck. Shit. Why the fuck did you even hide? It was dumb. So dumb. You can’t get away. Maybe if you ran, kept running forever you could get away. But you can't. Not anymore. It’s too late for any of that.

“There you are, pretty doll.” His sick smile is all you see as he leans down, coming into view. He’s crazy. He’s fucking crazy. You know that. You do.

You knew from the moment he knocked on your door in the middle of the night. Practically buzzing as he rocked on his heels. His speech was slurred, manic. He’s never spoken like that before. So. . . so crazy.

You tried to be polite, you really did. You tried to make small talk, to politely excuse yourself even though your hands were shaking.

You tried to close the door on him but it just wouldn’t shut as he kept rambling. His foot shoved in the way, preventing your escape. His dirty fucking sneakers– god even now you remember them so clearly. You remember so many things you wish you didn’t.

How he fucking smiled when you looked back up at him.

It makes your stomach churn to think about it now.

You remember clearly how he grabbed you. He forced his way inside, slowly backing you against the wall. You remember how he grabbed your wrists, talked about how tiny they were in his hands. Showed you only a moment of warmth before harshly biting into the skin, red rising to the surface, coating his tongue. A sound of pain was retched from your throat, trying to pull away while his grip only got tighter. His hips forced you into the wall, trapping you. Keeping you as prey.

He said you taste delicious.

It fucking echos in your head. Makes you go insane with how it repeats over and over again. Exactly how he said the words. The lilt in his tone, the smile that made him look like he just saw the face of god. How excited he sounded at the first taste of blood.

The way you could tell that he craved more.

Craved everything you had to give.

You didn’t think demons were real before that night. Ghosts, angels– anything that goes bump in the night was just a figment of one's imagination. Maybe hallucinations. But this, this was real. How you wish this was all just some stupid hallucination.

Nothing is paranormal before you face the devil himself.

Nothing is more terrifying than when the devil wants you.

You learned that that night.

He dragged you next door, throwing you to the ground. He looked like a shadow, only a silhouette as he stood in the doorway. The moon casting a glow from behind him. You couldn't see his face, none of it was legible as you scrambled backwards. Trying, trying so desperately to put some space between yourself and the beast.

His shoulders heaved as he panted. Like a fucking monser that just got his kill.

He had.

He closed the doors. Locked them with what felt like a million keys. He started fucking giggling. Giggling like a goddamn lunatic as his demeanor changed completely. He was smiling like an innocent little kid. He was happy. The happiest you had ever seen a person before.

“Ahhh~” He sighed, glee laced in his all too cheery tone. It was like nails on a chalkboard. Speaking, churning in your ears so it's all you can hear. It mocks you. Mocks your very being. Mocks you for trying to live a normal life away from him.

You remember how he clung to you that night as you sobbed. Whining about how you shouldnt be sad, that you were home now. He’d coo, playing with your hair as he tried to ‘soothe’ your trembling body. His arms wrapped around you in a vice. It felt like he was choking the air out of your lungs.

Maybe he was trying, maybe he wanted you dead. You really had no clue. You just wanted to get away– be as far away from him as you could. You’d do anything, you told him as much. Change your name, leave the country. You promised you wouldn’t tell anybody! You would tell him anything if it meant you could leave.

But he kept you in place. Tucked in his arms. His entire body wrapped around yours, keeping you close. Keeping his face nuzzled into your neck. Smelling you. Smelling your fear.

He loves that smell.

If you let him he would breathe it in all the time, treating it as the very thing that keeps him alive. Well, until you die anyway. But he knows that won't be anytime soon! You’re strong. You're tenacious. He knows you are. You’ve dealt with so much in your life, you can deal with him too. He just knows it.

He wonders what all of your other emotions smell like.

Hmm.. What about love? That would be an interesting smell. Maybe it would be sweet like honey? Maybe bitter like chocolate… Humans are so interesting. They're so fun.

You are especially. And he knows you’ll like him too. He’s sure of it as you finally tire yourself out, falling asleep on his beat up mattress. Mmhmm crying for hours must really hurt your soul. Poor thing. He would fix it. Fix you up all nice and pretty. Yeah, he knows just how to. His pretty experiment.

Well, he thinks that’s all you are. A nice human experiment for him to play with. To learn everything about. Learn what makes them tick, what makes them laugh, what makes them cry. Kenjaku told him as much. He could keep a little human as a pet, dispose of them when necessary. But… he doesn’t want to let you go! Just the thought makes him want to cry!

You are already better than he ever imagined!

Bang.

The chair blocking your body is thrown back, assaulting the wall with a deafening crash. Your hands come up, covering your ears. Shit Shit Shit! Fuck, what are you going to do, what are you going to do?! Your body forces itself as far as it can into the corner of the desk. All you can hear, all you can think about is the sound of your heartbeat ringing in your ears.

Why are you so dumb?! You knew you couldn’t win! You never win any of his games!

He squats in front of you, blocking your only means of escape. You hear him, watch him inhale deep before letting out a sick laugh. One that makes you want to cry. One that makes you feel like trying to run– trying to hide is useless. Maybe it is. You don’t see how you could possibly get away.

The pictures covering his walls tell you everything you need to know.

“Found you.” He smiles, crawling towards your body, crawling towards your last bit of safety. He looks like a monster– he is a monster. He can’t be human. He can’t. You refuse to believe it. Your legs kick, they try to get away. They try to be your last line of defense but his face only shows that of an owner looking at a puppy having a fit. He looks so fond of you.

You want to scream.

He grabs your ankle. It hurts. Everything hurts. You should’ve become numb at this point, you wish you had. You feel your body slip out from under the desk, dragged against the hard floor. Pick you up with ease, lay you down in his bed. His gross disgusting bed.

He pouts. He fucking pouts at you. Sits in front of you.

“Don't tell me you’re jealous.” His frowns, tilting his head at you. “I didn't mean to make you! I swear! I just wanted to show you. How much I love you…how good I could make my pretty doll feel.” You could never be jealous. Not of anything involving him.

Especially not involving the putrid fucking sex doll that lays next to you in bed.

How he fucked it last night, making you watch. Made you hold his hand while he thrust into the thing. Made you cup his face as he came inside.

“How I’ve been practicing just for you.” He coos, a smile gracing his lips as he moves to his knees, crawling towards you in the bed. “Humans are hard to understand…And I really just can’t wait for you any longer.”

You don’t hear his words. Your eyes fixated on the doll that looks just like you. Every freckle the same, every mole. Every fucking tiny detail mirrored yours in a lifeless, hollow core made of silicon. Filled up with his cum. You don’t want to think about how many times he’s fucked it. How many times he’s pretended having sex with you while holding it close. How much he had to have spent to get such a thing.

How deep whatever he feels for you runs.

You swear it probably coats his veins. Running under every inch of this skin. Giving it color. Giving it life. It's all you’re able to think about when he leaves you alone in the apartments. It’s hard for you to swallow. To believe for yourself. You wish it is a lie.

You let him get close. You let him into your bubble for only a second. You allow his face into your neck. Biting your skin, drawing blood once again. He loves the taste. You think he's probably obsessed with it. You wanted to recoil away, disgusted with how he hums, lapping at the skin. But you don’t. You need to let him have this. Even if it's just for a second.

You close your eyes tight. You feel him relax. He thinks you’re giving in. You know he does. You can do this. You can do this. You may have only made this decision a moment ago as you stared at the doll, but you had to do this. You had to do it for yourself. It may be the last chance you get. You can’t stop fighting.

You can do this. You can do this.

The mantra chants over and over again in your head like a prayer. You feel his hand reach up, covering your clothed breast with his palm. Massaging it carelessly, without any thought or respect for you. In his head you’re probably the same as that fucking sex doll.

Your knee shoots up. Right into his crotch. Right where it hurts the most. Your hands shove him with all the strength in your body, getting him off of you. Getting him away for only a moment while he recovers. Maybe. Maybe you can make it out of the door. Or maybe you can make it to the bathroom and lock yourself inside. Maybe you have a chance. Just maybe.

Your body scrambles off of the bed, moving faster than you ever thought was possible. You race towards the door, arm reaching out for the handle. You’re so close. You’re almost there. You’re almost able to get away.

Freedom is within your grasp, it's so close you can taste it. He forgot to lock the door, you know he did. You didn't hear any of them click back in place when he came inside. He was too caught up in the moment with trying to find you. If you make it there then maybe, just maybe you can get outside. Run as fast and as far away as you can. Call the police and escape from him. Spread the wings he’s tried to clip.

You land flat on your face.

Not even your arms are able to cushion your fall.

A stitched hand wraps around your ankle, pulling you, dragging you again. Backwards. Back into the cage. Back to him. His chest heaves. His shoulders hunch. He looks disheveled. Crazed.

He has that fucking smile plastered on his face.

“I love it when you run. It's so pretty.” He giggles, “You know me so well.”

You kick at him, thrash your body as he pulls you closer and closer. “Get the fuck away from me!” You yell, though it falls on deaf ears. All the strength in your body is being used to get away. To try and escape from him. He can’t be human. He’s too strong. Even with your struggle he still lifts you easily, like you’re just some fucking little kid having a temper tantrem.

“I’ve been so patient…” He sighs, placing– rather, forcing you onto the edge of the bed. Your knees on the floor as your torso is pressed against the mattress. Your arms pinned behind your back with one of his hands. Your hips pinned in place with his own. You can feel his cock against you. He’s hard. “I really am patient, you know?”

He hums, gently rocking his hips against you. His entire length pressed against your cunt. Taunting you. Words are not needed for you to know what’s to come. “It’s really too bad you know? I’ve run out.”

The simple statement makes your blood run cold.

“I’ve been so gentle…so caring…” He purrs, forcing his sweatpants down his legs. Just enough for his cock to spring free. Just enough for him to be able to stroke himself. For him to press the fat head where he wants– no, no. Needs to be. “I’ve really been trying my best to be good for you.”

You wish you could see. You wish you could see everything– exactly what he is doing. What he is planning to do to your wrecked frame. If, if everything wasn’t such a surprise then maybe… maybe you could make it a little better. But like this… you’re helpless. You’re trapped. You hate it. You can’t stand it. You wish you still had more tears left to cry. But you know it’s over. You can’t do anything now.

Exactly how he wants it– wants you.

You feel him stop moving, an excited gasp resonating from his throat. His entire presence changes in a flash, giddiness taking him over as the cogs in his brain turn. Making his own story, his own reality changing all over again. “Unless, you don't want me to be good for you? You want me to take what I want? That’s why you’ve been trying to run and hide?”

His frame towers over yours, his full weight pressing against your back forcing you deeper into the bed as he mumbles into your ear. “All you had to do was say so~ ♡”

All you can do is whimper in response. Whimper like a wounded animal that's been forced to accept their fate. Your head is blank, devoid of all thoughts and feelings. There is nothing. Nothing you can do.

Maybe he’s right.

Maybe a small part of you does like it. Who knows. You certainly don’t.

He blows gently on your ear, teasing you before he leans back. Your bottoms are forced down, exposing your cunt to the entire room. You can feel him practically buzzing with excitement. With some sick pleasure found deep within his gut.

“So pretty!” He whines, spreading your cheeks to get a full view of your pretty little cunt. You hate that you’re already wet. You hate that the feeling of his cock did it to you just moments before. You hate that he can see it. You hate the way pride bubbles up in his gut. The way you can hear him lick his lips like a starved man.

Hate what the other little voice is saying inside of your head. Hate that even maybe a little bit of your soul wants to feel him. The quiet fucked up voice that you always try to scilence.

“Mm… I wanna taste you so bad but… I really can’t wait anymore… what am I supposed to do!!” You can practically hear the pout plastered on his lips. “Ah~”

The fat head of his cock finds its way back to your cunt, dragging itself up and down your lips. Milking every last bit of wetness out of your hole. Your nails dig into your own hands— maybe his. It’s hard to tell where you stop and he begins. When he’s this close it’s hard to tell much of anything.

“We have forever together don’t we?” He chuckles, his head stopping at your unprepped little hole. Attempting to push into it with just enough pressure to have you squirm. Have you bite down on the sheet to silence any sounds that might try to come through. “We can try out all sorts of fun things together~”

His thumb aids as he tries to push the head of his cock inside. Prodding, trying to force his way inside without a care in the world for how it might hurt. How it might feel for you. He’s too big— you’re, you’re too tight. You can’t take it! It won’t fit you just, just!

“Mmmm!!” A muffled cry breaks free from your throat as the head of his cock buries itself in your cunt. Your ears ring, pain taking over your senses as he lets out a mouth watering, near pornographic moan from above you.

His grip on your wrists tighten, eyes staring at where he’s fucked himself into you. Wow~ it’s so pretty. He never expected a human to feel this good! It’s incredible! Magnificent! And this is just the first inch of him? Oh my… he can only imagine what bottoming out with feel like— how it will feel when his cock is pressed against your cervi—

Wait wait!! He’s getting ahead of himself again. A gasp leaves his throat as he pulls out, a muffled whine leaving your own. Your hole clenches around nothing. What a cute little thing! It’s calling him back in!! He knew you wanted this, he knows all about you huh?

He drags his cock back and forth through your lips again, red mixing in with the pretty white. He dips his cock head over and over again into your entrance, thrusting himself deeper and deeper every time. Stretching you just perfectly around his length.

Hmm, humans like prep right? He figures that this is close enough. His doll doesn’t need it. She just takes him right away— someday you’ll be the same! He just needs to break you in! But until then, he needs to savor this… who knows when you might come around again?

Mmm… you’re too mean to him. Yeah, that’s all it is.

Ah, it’s too bad he’s too lost to notice you’re already falling apart. Your back is arching on its own. Working without permission to give him a better angle. Your hips bucking, leaning back ever so slightly as he presses into your cunt. Urging him just a little deeper. Your pussy is too wet to think about anything, your head in a daze as he teases you, taunts you relentlessly.

You don’t want this— at least you think you don’t. But, it’s so hard to know what you really want when you’re head gets like this. When it’s actually feeling good. When the pleasure mixes with pain to concoct something dangerous. Something that makes you unsure of anything really. Maybe you’re dumb, maybe you’re stupid. Yeah. You probably are. But that’s okay. He likes that.

He likes you.

He slides his cock inside of your hole, his hand moving to your ass as thrusts his hips. Forcing his cock deeper and deeper with each stroke. Your walls clenching around every inch that pushes its way inside. God, you’ve never felt so full. You’ve never felt anything like this. Anything like his cock, anything like him.

Whimpers, whines, all sorts of sounds escape your throat as you let him do what he pleases. Give into whatever twisted pleasure is being given to you. It’s hard to stop them when he’s even louder— panting like a fucking dog as he feels you. Feels every inch of you. Makes you two become one.

He fucks into you so hard it hurts. So hard that your entire body is being pushed into the bed, spine curving up to meet him with every demonic thrust of his hips. Every time the skin of his thighs meets your ass, every time the head of his cock meets with your cervix, pain racks through your body. You can’t take it. You feel like you’re going crazy. You feel like you’re the insane one.

The sound of skin against skin penetrating the sound of your ears like some sort of sick, twisted song. A song he plays so well. One you don’t want him to stop. No matter how much it hurts, how it stings you, you just can’t find it in yourself to push him away. His moans feel like a siren’s voice, luring you closer and closer, pushing you so close to the edge.

“Why’s she so mean!” He whines, his thrusts frantic and hurried. Only caring for his own pleasure, only caring about him. “Won’t let me in any deeper doll! Can you believe that?” He groans, pressing his cock so hard against your cervix you nearly scream in pain. Your body thrashes, trying to get away from the sensation.

He shushes you quietly, leaning his torso against your back as he coos. “Shh… shh… it’s okay… we won’t try that today okay? Must be too much for you… poor thing.” His hips relent, slowly rocking into your battered cunt to give you a little bit of a break. To rest before the main event.

You want to cringe at how wet you sound, how messy you’ve become due to his cock and his cock alone. How greedily your pussy takes him, urging him back with every thrust. Wanting it. Wanting him.

You see his arm reach past your head, grabbing onto your mimics hair. Pulling the doll closer. Holding its head so it’s staring right into your eyes. It’s so lifeless. So hollow.

“It’s okay.” You can hear the smile in his voice. “Someday you’ll take me just like she can, yeah? You’ll be sooo~ good for me.” His hips start to pick up their pace again, thighs slapping against your ass so hard you might see stars. So hard you actually want to listen to him.

“I had to break her in too, real good.” He pants out, loosing himself in the feeling of your tight, warm walls.

You flinch away. You can’t look at it anymore. Can’t look at a face that is exactly your own yet so cold and distant. So lost. Used for months on end. Maybe a little sense comes back to you, a small part of reality seeping back into your skull.

He tsks. Fucking tsks and shakes his head in disappointment. “That won’t do… I need my girls to like each other…” He grabs your jaw, forcing you to look up at the thing. The creature with your hair and eyes.

“Kiss it.” His voice changes in a second, morphing into something commanding. Something scary. Fuck reality. Living in whatever dream you’ve created for yourself is better. Better than facing this. You don’t want to disobey. You want to listen, want him to let you cum. Maybe want his praise, even if it’s just a little.

Your lips meet with the cold, lifeless silicon. Tasting whatever disgusting leftover cum can be found on its lips. He pushes the head against your lips, forcing you to lick your tongue inside. “Adorable!!”

He likes it. He likes it too much. You can tell.

Tell by the way his hips pick up speed, forcing your used hole to take him over and over again. Forcing you to accept him into your body. Forcing you to fall for his cock. Make sure no one else will ever be able to use it. Use you like the way he wants to.

Can tell by the way his cock twitches, his thrusts becoming sloppy. His pace completely out the window as he searches for nothing but his own release.

Maybe you like it too. Like the way his cum tastes. Like the way he took this, took all of you for himself. All of you flesh as his. The coil tightens in your stomach, white specks start to form behind your eyelids. You’re close, too fucking close you just can’t take it anymore.

A loud moan leaves your lips, muffled by the silicon held against your mouth. Waves of pleasure crashing through your frame like a tidal wave of ecstasy as white paints the inside of your walls. Ears ringing, vision gone white as endorphins fill your brain making you forget— forget everything about this moment. How fucked up it is. How you want more.

Your walls clamp around his cock as it jerks in your cunt, milking every last drop of cum from him. Filling you up until you’re full. Until you can’t think anymore. Until you’re so tired you just want to collapse.

He drops the doll letting you pull your head back to finally be able to breathe again fully. Your frame slumps against the bed. Tired. Drained of everything it has to give.

He slowly pulls out of your abused little hole, watching the way it flutters around nothing. Watching the white mixed with red slowly drip out of it onto the rug. “Humans are such incredible little things…”

He smiles, shallowly dipping a finger inside your hole before popping it in his mouth. Just a little taste. “You did so good doll…” He pets your hair, gives you some sort of comfort after everything he’s done. It’s the least you deserve.

He moves your body into the bed with ease, pulling a blanket over your shaking form. A nap would be good right now. It’s always good to give humans at least one nap a day! Mhmm… and you seem like you could use one.

He moves behind you, wrapping an arm around your body from behind. Pulling you close to his chest. Making no mind to fix your clothes. This is good. This is right. It’s how it’s always supposed to have been!! Ah, and now he has all the time to make you understand that too. He’s so lucky. So lucky to have found such a good human.

“Night night dolly…” He whispers in your ear, brushing your hair gently. Coaxing you to sleep. “Let’s have a great day tomorrow too, yeah?”

Right. Cause this is forever. ♡

[obsessedwhyyes]

Chasing Lightning

Summary: You've spent all day teasing, tempting, taunting - you've really tested Astarion's patience this time. But pushing his boundaries is your favourite past time. Now, here you are, over his knee, about to receive the punishment you longed for, all according to your devious plan. Not that you'd ever admit it, of course.

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 2003 Pairing: Astarion x Fem!Reader Content: Shameless smut, bratty reader, Dom!Astarion, spanking, light BDSM elements, rough sex, PiV.

Gif by silverformymonsters on Tumblr!

A/N: This, uh... Yeah, no, this is just shameless smut. I am so sorry. Behold, my spanking fic, written in a moment of madness.

You lay over his knee, eager, anticipating - a willing sacrifice on the altar of his desires. Each trail of his fingertips across the bare skin of your backside is a promise of what is to come.

You deserve this, you think to yourself. All your teasing, all your temptations. The way you pressed yourself against him when no one was looking, your face a pretty picture of faux innocence; the way you swayed your hips as you sauntered ahead of him, glancing back to meet his eyes, knowing they would be heavy with that predatorial hunger which ignites the flames of arousal deep in your belly. All part of your plan, which he is more than willing to oblige.

You hear Astarion’s voice, dark and dripping with honey.

“I propose a game, darling. A test of your intuition, shall we say?” You hear the wicked smile in his voice and it sends shivers of sweet anticipation coursing through your body. “I'll think of a number, one through ten, and you'll have to guess it based on how hard I spank you. Guess wrong, and I'll spank you again - the same strength - until you guess correctly. Understand?”

“Yes,” you breathe, wilfully yielding to him . There’s an intoxicating power in surrender. Your submission is a choice, freely given, and that makes it all the more potent.

In yielding, you become more. More alive, more aware, more you than you've ever been. The world narrows to the point of contact where his hand meets your skin. You are the ocean, and Astarion the moon, pulling you into new shapes with the inexorable force of the tide.

“Very good,” he purrs. His thumb rubs the gentlest of circles on your wrists as he binds them behind you with his spare hand. “Of course, if it becomes too much, just say the word. I can be merciful… on occasion.”

The game begins, a dance of unseen touches and breathless anticipations. Astarion’s hand hovers above you, its presence like the charge before a lightning strike.

“Let’s start with a simple one, shall we?”

His touch against your bare arse is a whisper at first, cool fingertips ghosting across your skin. More caress than slap. You shiver, every nerve alight with anticipation.

“One,” you murmur, more exhale than voice.

Astarion’s chuckle vibrates through you, a low rumble that you feel more than hear as you bury your face into the fabric of his shirt. “Oh, my dear. We’re barely getting started.”

The next strike lands with purpose - a sharp, precise sensation that blooms across your skin. It’s not quite pain, not quite pleasure, but something exquisitely in between that draws a gasp from your lips.

“Four?” you venture.

“Warm, but not quite.”

He strikes - the same strength once more, as promised.

“Three!” you gasp, revelation and pleasure mingling in your voice.

“Good girl,” Astarion praises and gods, how those words affect you. They sink into your skin, sweeter than honey, headier than wine. You crave his approval like air, each word of praise stoking the flames of your arousal higher.

The dance continues, each strike a new verse in this poem written on your skin.

Smack.

Five is a starburst of sensation. You feel this once, twice, three times until you finally guess correctly.

Smack.

Seven lands with the force of a thunderclap, reverberating through your body and leaving you trembling in its wake.

Smack.

Nine leaves you gasping, teetering on the knife-edge between pleasure and pain. The sting melts into a deep, throbbing warmth that pulses in time with your racing heart.

With each strike, each caress, the heat builds, a delicious tension coiling tighter in your core.

Four. Two. Six. Six again. Eight.

You find yourself arching slightly into his touch, eager for more, your body's reactions beyond your control.

Then, finally, comes ten.

It cracks across your flesh like lightning splitting the night sky, a white-hot streak of sensation that sears itself into your very soul. For a moment, the world whites out, every nerve ending alight with electric sensation. You cry out as the sensations overwhelm you, the number torn from your lips. The pain is exquisite, pushing you to the very limits of your endurance.

In the aftermath, you float in a sea of endorphins, your body humming with the echoes of Astarion's touch. Each point of contact throbs in time with your racing heart, a map of exquisite sensation etched onto your inflamed skin.

His cool hand soothes over the heated skin. The contrast sends fresh shivers through you, and you moan gently in response, despite yourself. Your skin is hypersensitive, your mind a mess of exhilaration and desire, eager for more, more, more.

Through the haze of lust, Astarion's voice chimes clear. “My, my. Such enthusiasm,” he purrs. “Tell me, darling, did you spend all day dreaming of this? Because I certainly did… in excruciating detail.”

You turn on his lap to look up into his eyes, suppressing a smile. “Who, me? I would never!”

Astarion's eyebrow arches, smirking at your obvious lie. “Is that so? So the way you rubbed yourself against me all morning like a worg in heat was just a coincidence, was it?”

You can't help but giggle at his accusation, which only seems to fuel his amusement.

“Do you have any idea how long you left me aching today?”

“I'm sorry,” you pout.

“Sorry who?”

“I’m sorry, Astarion.”

You don't mean it. And he knows it.

You could be good - a sweet, obedient little thing. But to be bad - to challenge him, to tease him, to test his patience until he finally brings you to heel - why, that's just so much more fun.

“That’s better,” he coos, his voice and his praise caressing you like silk along your skin as he gazes back at you, expression equal parts warmth and something much darker - hungrier - beneath. “Cheeky little pup."

He pauses, and the air becomes heavy with anticipation.

“But I'm not done with you yet.”

He rises and shifts you in a blur of motion, bending you over the edge of the bed, leaving your face buried in the soft sheets. Suddenly, you're exposed to him, your arousal on full display, and you feel the air against your hypersensitive flesh. Yet, in this moment, there is no place you would rather be than at his mercy. You are eager, dripping with expectation.

In the midst of your lustful haze, you hear the rustling of clothes - the familiar sound of his trousers unlaced. It sends your imagination soaring. Your core aches with what is to come.

But Astarion, the cruel man he is, doesn't enter you. Not yet.

Instead, you feel the head of his cock slide maddeningly, agonisingly slowly up the slit of you. You feel him become slick with your arousal as he slides down, and back up your slit once more, just barely skimming your clit, which throbs desperately with need. Such delicate, teasing touches - enough to drive you to madness.

“Do you want it?” He purrs.

“Mmhm,” you mumble pathetically into the fabric.

“Tell me, love.”

“I want–”

He inserts himself before you finish, colliding with you with the force of planets, stealing the breath from your lungs. The union is electric, a completion so intense that it borders on painful.

His desperation is evident, at odds with the image of restraint he was attempting to conjure as he ruts into you with wild abandon. His hands are everywhere at once, desperate and searching. Your own fingers claw at the fabric of the bedsheets, mindlessly, drunk on the sensation of him.

Astarion’s hands soon settle on your hips, pulling you to him as you collide again, again, again. You aid him, pushing yourself against his hips with each thrust, needing to be closer, always closer. You move together in a frenzy, chasing that elusive peak with single-minded determination. The world beyond ceases to exist; there is only this moment, this need, this all-consuming desire.

Breaths come in ragged gasps and are punctuated by moans and whispered pleas. “More,” you beg; “please,” you exclaim, though you're not sure how he could possibly get any closer, any deeper within you.

You feel his hand slide beneath you, and you lift your hips to greet him. Your throbbing clit welcomes his expert touch as he begins to unravel you as easily as he picks locks. He rubs circles around the bud, gently, in stark contrast to his wild rutting - indicative of the tiniest threads of self-restraint which remain within him, spared only to bring you to your peak. But gods, in the heat of the moment, you are especially sensitive, and his touch quickly brings forth rippling waves of sensation which threaten to overwhelm you. Your body twitches of its own accord and you know your climax fast approaches.

Your own voice surprises you, high and desperate. Soft whimpers escape your lips, growing in intensity and frequency as the tension builds.

Behind you, Astarion's sounds are a primal counterpoint to your own. His usual smooth tones are roughened by desire, a gravelly undertone that sends shivers down your spine. Low growls rumble from his chest - they speak of a hunger barely contained.

As you both near the edge, your voices mingle and intertwine. The sounds blur together - gasps and moans, growls and whimpers. The volume rises, unchecked and unashamed. You care not who hears you now.

It is you who first reaches the point of no return. A cry escapes your lips, raw and primal. Your body quakes, and pleasure crashes over you, a torrent of sensation that drenches every nerve ending. You're swept away in the deluge, currents of bliss pulling you under, spinning you in their depths.

His release soon follows and, although you don't see him, you feel the intensity in the air, in his increasingly erratic pounding, in his breaths. A growl rumbles from deep in his chest, vibrating through your bodies like rolling thunder. His grip on you tightens, fingers digging into your flesh as he releases into you, claiming you as part of his tempest.

He collapses against your back. His weight is solid and grounding like the calm after the storm. He pants slightly, aftershocks rippling through you both like distant thunder.

Slowly, the world comes back into focus.

Astarion's weight shifts behind you as his arm drapes lazily over your wrist. You feel his cool lips brush against your ear, and he nips it gently.

“If I didn’t know any better,” he muses, “I would say you enjoy being punished.”

You can’t help but laugh, the sound still slightly breathless. “If that’s what I get for misbehaving, I might have to do it more often.”

"Careful what you wish for, darling," he murmurs, and you can hear the smirk in his voice. "I have a whole arsenal of 'punishments' at my disposal. This was merely a taste."

“Is that a promise or a threat?”

“Why not both?” he replies, his tone rich with suggestion. “I do so enjoy keeping you on your toes.”

As he rises to his feet and helps you to yours, he kisses you, his gentleness a stark contrast from your earlier activities. Where there was an inferno, now there is now the warming comfort of the hearth. Where there was urgency, now there is patience. Eventually, you find yourselves settled once more, cocooned in the soft comfort of the bed. The lingering scent of your encounter mingles with the fresh smell of clean linens, a heady reminder of the night's activities.

“Alright?” Astarion’s voice is soft.

You nod, words unnecessary in this moment.

As you nestle closer to him, a contented sigh escapes your lips. Being bad certainly has its thrills. But these moments, wrapped in Astarion’s arms - these are treasures in their own right. The mischievous spark in you knows you'll seek out more opportunities to 'misbehave', but for now, you revel in this gentle aftermath, every bit as intoxicating as the storm that preceded it.

No Pressure Tags: @silverfangmarks @roguishcat @sparrowbard @chonkercatto

Masterlist can be found here.

[dawnisevening]

🩵 possessive!jealous!ellie x Brat!reader

Strap!rReceiving , Oral!EllieReceiving, Oral!rReceiving, degrading!rReceiving, 69!position

You and Ellie were out at a party, you started to dance with Jesse rather suggestively, rubbing up against him and purposely making eye contact with Ellie. She growled in jealously, as she watched you two dance.

You giggled and pushed yourself flush to him, and then his hands came to your hips, guiding you against him. That’s when Ellie snapped. She stood up, grabbing you and dragging you to her car.

She set you in her lap as she drove. Every time you tried to speak you were met with a mean glare. So you shut up. When you got back to Ellie’s apartment she picked you up carrying you inside.. when inside she slammed you on the bed.

“You think this is fucking funny? You belong to me, little girl. Your mine. So why the hell were you dirty dancing with him?..”

You giggled at her jealousy, it was honestly such a turn on..

“Oh cmon.. it was just a little fun!”

Ellie’s eyes narrowed, her possessiveness intensifying as she pressed her body even closer against yours.

"Fun? You think flirting with someone else is fun? No, baby girl, you belong to me and only me. I don't share what's mine." She ran her fingers along your jawline, her touch firm yet gentle.

"I'll show you just how much fun we can have together, and remind you of who you truly crave."

Her voice dropped to a low, seductive tone.

"Now, tell me, are you ready to be reminded of your place, slut?"

You were so turned on and could feel yourself getting wet. But you couldn’t give in so easily..

“What are you gonna do, hm? Punish me?”

Ellie’s eyes gleamed with a mix of possessiveness and desire as she heard your question. Her grip on your jaw tightened slightly, her voice becoming huskier.

"Oh, my sweet, sweet girl, punishment is just the beginning. I'm going to take you to the edge and back, make you mine all over again."

She leaned in, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispered, and got to work on removing your pretty clothes..

"I'll leave marks on your skin, mark you as mine. And maybe, just maybe, if you're a good little toy, I'll let you enjoy the pleasure that only I can give."

She pulled back slightly, her gaze intense.

"Now, are you ready to submit to me, to let me show you the depths of pleasure and pain?"

She said with the cockiest, nastiest smirk. And god.. it was so hot.

You chuckled and whispered to her while tugging at her clothes..

“Do your worst.”

Ellie’s eyes darkened with a mix of amusement and determination as she heard your response. She let out a low, throaty laugh, her grip on your jaw releasing.

"Oh, my sweet, brave girl, you have no idea what you're getting yourself into."

She took a step back, her gaze fixed on you with a predatory hunger.

"Prepare yourself, because I'm going to devour you, body and soul."

With that, Ellie wasted no time. She pushed you gently but firmly onto the bed, her hands roaming over your body, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. Her lips found yours in a passionate kiss, her tongue exploring your mouth with a hunger that matched her own. As her hands traced down your body, she skillfully removed the rest of your clothes, revealing your naked form to her hungry eyes. Her touch was both teasing and possessive, her fingers leaving trails of fire across your skin.

Ellie’s lips trailed down your neck, peppering it with deep, passionate kisses, before moving lower, leaving a trail of hickeys along your collarbone and chest. Her hands found their way to your thighs, spreading them apart, as she positioned herself between your legs. Her warm breath ghosted over your skin, causing you to shiver in anticipation.

"Tell me, baby," she whispered, her voice filled with desire. "Do you want to feel me inside you? Do you want to experience the pleasure that only I can give?"

You blushed and nodded.. she was about to insert her fingers when you grabbed her wrist..

“Ah.. can we actually.. use the strap today?..”

Ellie’s eyes sparkled with a mix of excitement and satisfaction as she heard your request. She leaned in closer, her voice dripping with anticipation.

"Oh, sweetie, you know how to make me smile.. Of course, we can use the strap today."

She reached over to the nightstand, retrieving the pink strap-on, her fingers gently caressing the smooth surface.

"I can't wait to see the way you react when I fill you completely."

This made the butterflies in your stomach get worse. God.. why did she have to be so hot?

Ellie positioned herself between your legs, securing the strap-on snugly around her hips. She leaned down, pressing her lips against yours in a searing kiss before trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your body, teasing and tantalizing your skin. Her fingers danced along your thighs, spreading them wider, as she positioned herself at your entrance.

With a slow, deliberate thrust, Ellie slid the strap-on deep inside you, her eyes locked with yours as she watched your reaction, which was needy whimpers and whines of her name. She set a steady rhythm, each movement designed to bring you pleasure and push you closer to the edge. Her hands roamed over your body, squeezing and caressing, heightening every sensation.

"Does it feel good, sweetheart?" she whispered, her voice a low, seductive murmur.

"Do you enjoy the way I fill you, claim you as mine, slut?" Ellie’s thrusts became more intense, her pace increasing as she sought to bring you to the peak of pleasure. She reveled in the way your body responded to her, the way you melted under her touch.

“God.. you’re so fucking pathetic. Moaning my name like a fucking whore..”

But she wasn't done yet. Ellie leaned in, her lips finding your ear as she whispered,

"I want to taste you, too. I want to feel your pleasure on my tongue." With that, she pulled out of you, leaving you empty for a moment, causing a needy moan from you before she positioned herself so that you could pleasure her. She guided your head down to her dripping core, holding you firmly in place, as she moaned and writhed under your skilled tongue.

The room filled with the sounds of your combined pleasure, as Ellie pushed you to the edge time and time again, ensuring that your pleasure was her priority. She reveled in the taste of you, the way you responded to her touch, until finally, she couldn't hold back any longer. With a shuddering climax, Ellie came with a loud mewl, her body trembling with satisfaction.

Afterward, Ellie held you in her arms, stroking your hair gently as she whispered sweet words of affection and care. She knew the intensity of your encounter may have left you feeling vulnerable, and she was there to offer comfort and reassurance. Together, you both indulged in a warm, intimate shower, washing away the evidence of your passionate tryst, before Ellie helped you get dressed, her touch gentle and loving.

As you left the room, Ellie’s possessive gaze never wavered, a silent reminder that you belonged to her. And she would always be there to remind you of that fact, both in and out of the bedroom.

[ashprince-of-bel-air]

Little Dove: Part 6

It's longer than the others, 2.2k words. Blame the Works Xmas party for this also the smut I promised.

Part Five

Taglist: @cherryheairt

Life in the palace over the last few days had been an adjustment for you. Not having to dress yourself was a big change, you had maids to help you every day, this was something that you would have to get used to now that you lived here. Asking for anything, even absentmindedly was strange, an offhand comment about wanting something turned into a full job, servants bringing whatever you dared to wish for within the hour. This life was unreal to you, it made you make a mental note of thanking Emperor Caracalla for this treatment, it was not necessary, but you appreciated it nonetheless.

Caracalla had not visited you since the night you were brought here, his duties having kept him busy, especially with new Gladiator Games coming up, they needed to be properly organised, a spectacle to honor the Gods for their blessings upon Rome. A few times you felt that he had possibly forgotten about you, that once he had his little dove caged away he would be happy, knowing that you were his little pet that no others could touch. You tried to not let it upset you, you were now living in luxury, a life that you had never dared to dream of, surely that would be good enough for you.

It had become easy to adapt into a new routine here, no overbareing father to punish or admonish you for wanting read and craft, such interests were unbecoming of a young woman in his mind. Walking the castle grounds in the morning was a new delight for you, admiring the flowers around the large pool. Though you spent large amounts of time in the gardens of your fathers palace, it was incomparable to the grandiose of the royal gardens. The rest of the day was your own, yours to do with as you please, no itinerary or chores to complete. Most days now were spent with you in the royal library, free to read in silence. One thing that nobody could deny was that you were blessed by the Goddess Minerva, a thirst for knowledge and a love for the arts had been bestowed upon you from an early age. The library was like paradise to you, books upon books about history, art and philosophy, you had never felt more at home than within these walls.

Clothes were a bountiful gift upon your arrival, piles of rich silken dresses now sat in your wardrobe, it was hard to imagine when you would have time to wear the ever mounting pile of gowns. You were unsure of who was sending you these garments, assuming that it was from senators wanting to gain favour with you and the emperor, now that he had so publicly chosen you. In reality they were from Caracalla, having felt bad for not being able to see you he instructed his servants to send you lavish gifts, to adorn you with the of what Rome had to offer. Caracalla had never so openly pursued anyone before, he was unsure how to apologise for his absence and so did the only thing he knew to do and buy your love.

Caracalla felt awful that he had not visited you, partly because you had been uprooted and placed here in the palace on his whim, yet also because he was desperate to see you, craving the feeling of your skin and the dream of your lips upon his again. Most of the blame was placed on his brother Geta, knowing that he was keeping him busy so that he could not see you. Geta never desired for a wife yet he now found himself jealous of Caracalla, a deep yearning to be loved was in both of them and now his brother had found someone to give that to him. Geta’s stalling had gone on for long enough, no longer could he use the excuse of the Games to keep his brother away. Today Caracalla promised himself that he would see you, he wanted to see you desperately. Ever since he saw you so enraptured with your room he wanted you. It made him feel loved, to feel appreciated as he watched your eyes full of wonder, stirring a warm feeling inside of him that he had not felt in years, he yearned for it, like an addict wanting more.

The Gladiator Games were set to begin at sunrise, an event you were expected to attend with Caracalla now that he had claimed you. The thought of attending with him in the royal box again made your heart flutter, this would be the first time you had seen him since the night he welcomed you to the palace. A memory you delighted in most nights, remembering the feeling of his lips upon your neck and the tender kiss you shared, the memory often made you blush. Though you were excited you also had an overwhelming feel of anxiety, you needed to look the part of an Emperor’s consort, yet you were scared you would embarrass him. You had been raised in a higher society than most, though there were certain intricacies and hidden rules that the ruling class had that you did not know, you wanted to impress the emperor, to feel worthy of the station that he had now granted you.

Caracalla could think of naught but you most days that he was planning the games with his brother, the way you laughed and blushed made him hard. In council meetings it was almost impossible for him to not rub himself through the cotton of his robes, desperately seeking relief as he thought of you, a beautiful image amongst the boring politics. He would roll his eyes as his brother spoke, bored and more than desperate for you now. It killed him to be away from you now that you were living in the palace near him, he wanted to sneak away and join you in privacy, to revere you as the goddess that you were to him, to worship you on his knees as you deserved, the only woman who could bring an Emperor to their knees.

Whenever Caracalla tried to approach your room he was diverted by some other issue that could not be ignored, he told himself that if it happened again tonight he would personally behead the man who stopped him, nothing would keep him from devouring you tonight, he was almost feral at the thought of you now.

Silken dresses were thrown all over the floor as you ransacked your wardrobe, the maids had offered to help you find a suitable dress, yet your pride won over, your new freedom and desire to choose the correct outfit yourself was stronger than the need for help. Dress upon dress was examined and thrown to the floor in disappointment, each one not meeting your imaginary standards for an Emperor’s consort.

Emperor Caracalla entered your room silently, having finally made his way uninterrupted to your room, his prior warning to the servants to not disturb him had been very well understood. He pushed the heavy door open as quietly as he could, wanting to surprise you and see what you did in your own time, to gain more of an idea of who you were. Instead of a simple visage of you reading or painting he was met with a wild version of you, your hair was untamed and you looked manic as you examined and threw garments to one side in frustration. The sight of you so unbridled made Caracalla smile wickedly, he already knew that you were not one to conform fully to normal rules, but to see you so unhinged excited him even more so.

Caracalla approached you slowly and silently, the wide smirk ever present on his face. “My love, why do you abuse those beautiful dresses so.” You turned to face him, startled that he was seeing you in such a state, wild and surrounded by crumpled fabrics. No words fell from your mouth as you looked at him, you tried to speak but was very quickly interrupted by his lips upon your own, giving a deep throaty sigh as you finally felt him once again. Caracalla held no regard for the dresses as he made his way to kiss you, he stood upon them knowing that he could order more in an instant if he needed, his only goal was to have you in his arms and kiss you, hearing your moan as he kissed you set him alight, he needed you now and an Emperor takes what he wants.

The kiss was brief but passionate, as soon as the Emperor heard your moans you were lifted up. Caracalla had grabbed your thighs and lifted you, walking you to the bed nearby and dropping you roughly upon the mattress. The dishevelled look of you before him drove him wild, your hair was wild and your dress was now barely covering your thighs, it was sinful how you looked before him, the epitome of seduction was laid before him, and he would not resist. It was not long before you felt his hands upon your thighs, the cold hard metal of the rings making you shiver slightly before him, praying his hands would ride up further and address the heat now burning at your core.

It felt like heaven to feel Carcalla’s lips upon your neck once again, this time though it was more desperate, like he was hungry to feel you, nipping at your skin and trying to leave his marks upon you, to claim you as his. “My Emperor” a soft giggle escaped you as you felt his teeth upon you. “You can’t mark me like this, the games are tomorrow” Your tone of voice was a tease, you did want him to mark you and leave love bites all over your body, yet you had to appear publicly in the morning. You felt the reverberation of a strained groan against you neck as he bit you once more, Caracalla knew you were right and he hated that he couldn’t devour you properly.

You felt Carcalla rest his head in the crook of your neck and moan, his hands now stroking over your body hungrily, taking in everything that he could. The kisses began quickly, from you neck to your collarbone, working his way down your body, ripping the nightdress from you as he kissed his way to your core, he wanted to kiss every inch of your body and a nightdress would not stop him. Once he reached your core he was gentle, kissing your wet folds and embracing in the fact that he made your body react this way. You felt the soft grip of his heavily ringed hands on your thighs, and it made you sigh, a sigh that made Caracalla dip his tongue between your folds, his tongue now painting masterpieces upon you, eliciting noises from you that you never knew you could make.

Caracalla drank you in as much as he could before kissing his way back up your body, each kiss was full of desire and desperation, he had wanted to devour and consume you as soon as you were brought to the palace. His teeth upon your neck made you moan again, you felt his hands upon your hips now, holding you in place so he could position himself before you. You felt a weeping tip against you, stretching you for the first time, begging for entrance. “I’ll be as gentle as I can my little dove.” Caracalla whispered in your ear as you felt him press inside of you. You had never known a man before, this was an intimate moment for you and the emperor of Rome was being gentle with you, you felt in this moment how much he desired and cared for you.

Your walls stretched around Carcalla’s thick length; it was painful initially but then you felt how good he was inside you. His hand upon your clit, thumbing it to bring you pleasure as he thrust gently into you. Where he would normally ruin virgins he wanted to savour you, you were his and he wanted to feel your pleasure, a pleasure that only he could give you. The heat began to rise inside of you, pooling in your stomach and desperate for relief, your moans were now music to Carcalla’s ears, spurring on each thrust inside of you, desperate to bring you to climax as much as he wanted his own.

Finally, you felt your first climax, it was a wave of white-hot pleasure over your body. Caracalla kissed your neck as you came, his own climax was not long after your intense one, your throbbing walls made it had for him to hold back, spilling his seed into you almost immediately after. Carcalla buried his face in your neck, panting as he flopped his body onto your own after his climax. Your sweaty bodies were stuck together as you both panted, out of breath from the intense session. “I will make you my Emperess I swear” Caracalla’s voice was ragged as he spoke, interrupted by his kisses on your neck. Though you didn’t fully believe him, you laid there embracing the fantasy of being his emperess.

[fuckedupfate]

𓂃 warnings .ᐟ masturbation , somnophilia , explicit language , sam being completely, utterly, and biblically obsessed with reader . . . wc .ᐟ … 2.5k

sam’s obsession with you hasn’t gotten any better, and well, it is expected. god, he is so desperate and in need for you it is insane, it’s making him feel like he’s back having withdrawals for demon blood, that is how desperate he is. he would do anything for you. anything to have you for a night. or even for five fucking minutes. anything. he’s pathetic, he knows that, and he knows that if anyone found out about his insatiable obsession for you, they would call him pathetic, too. he doesn’t care, though, all he cares about is having your skin beneath his fingertips—or even the chance for you to let him touch you. 

he doesn’t know how he’s survived without you. he’s pretty sure just having you around him is keeping his heart beating and him breathing. and without you near him, he feels as though his oxygen supply is draining and growing scarce. and then you re-appear, saving him, bringing him back to life. but he needs more—craves for more. it’s completely and utterly selfish, for him to want you in the way he does, but all of his ration has been thrown out the window and locked away behind a vault, when it comes to you. and he doesn’t want that feeling to ever go away, he’d drag it back to him if it ever were to. 

it hadn’t even been a few days since he’d seen you and he’s already losing his mind. his control. his normalcy. dean and him had been out on a hunt, you seemingly have been as well, but yours lasted longer than theirs, so he was you-free for a day longer than he wished for. he already didn’t get to see you due to their own hunt, but adding an extra day because of your hunt? he felt like a child losing their favourite toy—not that you were a toy to him, no, not at all. he’d never treat you like one. but that’s definitely how he felt, like he was being punished, not being able to see you. so when you finally returned back to the house, exhausted, worn out, and in need of a good meal and sleep, he had to stop himself from throwing himself at you and letting you boss him around like he was your servant. not that he’d ever complain if you were needing him to, he’d happily do it.

you yawned, rubbing at your eyes, unaware of sam’s watching eyes as you padded throughout the house, walking up the stairs and to your room after sending a brief ‘hi’ to everyone. you didn’t even look at him for more than second, but that was enough to send his mind whirling with thoughts. sure, you also just did a brief ‘hi, sam’, and you did to dean and bobby as well, but he had felt his heart stop when you said his name, felt his breath hitch—thankfully nobody else noticed—and felt his knees weaken ever so slightly. he had half a mind to follow you, make sure you got to bed alright, make sure you were taken after properly, grab a meal and some water for you. but he didn’t. he’d knew it would raise suspicion. so he stayed put. watching your figure ascend and disappear up the stairs, and keeping his eyes on the area of the stairs which you had just been. 

“you alright?” it was brief and simple from dean, just a quick glance to see why sam had just been standing there, unmoving and silent, but it was enough for sam to snap out of his own head and look at him. sharply nodding, sam replied in a rushed, albeit convincing, manner, “yeah—yeah. i’m fine.” dean nodded slowly in response, looking at him in suspicion, but he didn’t push it—thankfully. then, it was back to consulting about a new case, as per usual. but sam’s mind never once drifted away from you. from how you said his name. how you said hi to him. how you yawned and rubbed your eyes. how you walked up the stairs. how you looked so exhausted. how you’d react if he were to walk into your room and lie down beside you, pulling you against his chest, holding you close, keeping you safe. safe in his arms.

you walked down the stairs, soft footsteps against the creaking wood, rubbing at your eyes. you, out of habit, walked to the kitchen, walking past a (fake) sleeping sam on the couch. you opened the fridge, seemingly grabbing out ingredients to be able to make breakfast. you began cooking, all while sam was watching. sure, all he saw was your back, but that was enough for him. to see your hair, put up into a loose bun, ever so slightly messy from sleep, the way your ass looked from behind. he was more than happy with what he was able to see, he wasn’t one to complain, not at all. he liked seeing the way you moved, how you put all of your weight onto one foot as you waited for what you were making to be done. it was enough for the throbbing sensation to form beneath sam’s jeans, straining against the fabric. god, no, no, no. not now. not while she could turn around and see. not when dean or bobby could walk in and also see. he was fucked. so, so fucked. he, subtly, placed a pillow in front of the bulge in his jeans, hiding it from any eyes that were to be on him. especially from yours. what would you think if you looked at him and saw that he was rock hard? would it change how you saw him? oh, god. what if it made you not want to be near him? no. he can’t let that happen. he’d be lost without you. 

his eyes remained on the back of your figure, continuing to watch you as you worked in the kitchen, watching as you put everything away, as you reached up to grab a plate, grabbed some cutlery. every.single.movement. he didn’t let his eyes drift away from you for a second. nothing could. well, other than dean, or bobby—god, what if bobby saw him watching you?—coming in and catching his attention. he watched as you sat down at the dining table, placing the plate down in front of you, along with a mug of, presumably, coffee. he didn’t know if you could see him looking at you out of the corner of your eye, and he hopes you don’t, but he also hopes you do. he wants your eyes on him. to lock onto his. so he can feel that rush of energy, and blood, through his body. for the adrenaline to fill his veins. but you don’t. well, you don’t lock eyes with him, nor do you look at him, so you’re either ignoring the fact that you can see him looking at you, or really don’t know that he is. 

eventually, he acted like he had just woken up. but what to do about the fact he was hard? that his cock was throbbing with need and desire against his jeans, making each breath of his shallow and harder than the last. he hopes that you don’t notice it if he were to get up. hoping that you don’t look his direction as he’s walking. he can only hope. but he needs a plan. a plan for you to not see the fact he’s hard. how the fuck is he supposed to do that? he thinks and thinks, and thinks. he could go to the bathroom? perhaps have a shower and fix him up? he’s so fucked. like, really. so fucked. 

the night was always the loneliest part of sam’s day. you’re always plaguing his mind, but when night comes? it’s as if you get worse. as if you can sense the fact he’s so needy, so desperate, so lonely. it’s torturous, really. but, fuck, he loves it. he loves you. the way you feel beneath his fingertips when he’s thinking of you. how real it seems. how real it feels. how real you feel. how good it feels. as much as it reminds him how he doesn’t have you, he still loves it. the issue this night? he’s on a couch, in bobby’s house. in the same house you’re in. and dean is here, too. so he’s totally fucked. he can’t help himself. he knows he should keep control, but he can’t. he’s royally lost his fucking mind, completely. 

his footsteps are quiet against the wooden stairs. slowly ascending up them before he’s met with the upstairs floor. and then the hallway. and then your room. the room you’re in. alone. vulnerable. where you’re sleeping. the thought make his heart quicken, his breathing heavy and shallow. he, quietly, opens your door, slowing revealing your sleeping form on your bed. he’s hit with the soft smell of vanilla and jasmine. fucking hell. as if you couldn’t get more tempting. vanilla and jasmine. he lets his eyes drift around the room, taking in the decorations and furniture, taking in the items you, personally, picked out to keep in your room. you. you. you. you. that’s all he can think. you. all and only you. how you look, cuddled under your sheets, all peaceful, vulnerable, comfortable, perfect. you’re completely perfect. like an angel. you look like an angel. a precious, beautiful, angelic being. fucking tempting. 

he stands in your doorway for three minutes, keeping his eyes on your sleeping expression. how your lips are parted ever so slightly, eyes closed, hair in a bun, completely unaware to his presence. and it just adds to his desire. to his need. his temptation. his craving. he slowly moves closer, keeping his footsteps quiet and unnoticeable—the last thing he wants is for you to wake up and see him watching you as you slept. which could cause you to drift away from him, want him to stay far away from you. and he could not let that happen. no. he couldn’t. he wouldn’t live with you avoiding him. your breaths are so soft, chest rising and falling at a slow, even pace. it drags him in closer. pulling him in like iron to a magnet. he’s so close—so close he could touch you. feel you. feel your skin beneath his fingers, like he’s only ever been praying for since he met you. his fingers twitch by his side, itching to touch you, needing to touch you. he fights it. trying to keep the small amount of control he has. he, out of perverted curiosity, made his way over to your wardrobe, opening the drawers inside it, looking over all of the clothes you keep inside. oh.my.god. he struck fucking gold. he opened one drawer, finding it to be your underwear drawer. his eyes widen ever so slightly, a small, pleasured and smug smirk finds its way onto his lips. his hand searches through it, fingertips running over the fabric of each pair of underwear that you own. lace or not. he just—god, the image that finds his head when he picks up a pair of white, laced panties. he just feels the fabric and the lace beneath his skin. control, sam. control. 

it doesn’t last long. the control, that is. it snapped quicker than he ever had thought about. he finds himself sitting beside your bed on your desk chair that he moved over to that position, giving him a straight view of you. allowing him to give into his needs. his hand works up and down his straining cock. eyes remaining fixated on your sleeping expression, tracing the outline of your lips. imagining them wrapped around him, or moaning out his name. oh god. oh god. he groans quietly, keeping the sound muffled by digging his teeth into his bottom lip. his mind is going crazy. his hand quickens, tightening its grip, only accelerating his already quickened breath, and the need for him to come. fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck. he’s so close. so close. one hand gripping the edge of the seat as his breathing shakes, head tilting back, eyes squeezing shut. his thighs shake and tremble, hips jerking up to meet his hand. he’s not going to last any longer. he knows that. especially not with how your sleeping expression is engraved into the back of his eyelids as his eyes remain closed, only pushing him further and further over the edge. 

so close. so close. sososososo close. whimpering quietly, he comes undone. strings of white liquid spilling from his cock, and an unwanted groan slips past his lips. worried, he opens his eyes in a hurried panic, locking them onto your, still, sleeping and closed eyes expression. relief, both from the fact that you didn’t wake up and the fact he had just came, washed over him. filling his system. a shuddering breath falls past his teeth marked lips, eyes hooded, as he rides his high. his heartbeat slowly growing slower, coming back to its normal rhythm, his breathing slowly goes back to normal, and his hand slowly loosens its grip on the edge of the chair. 

he sighs softly, remaining sat in the chair as he keeps watch of you for a few minutes longer. unable to move away. he doesn’t want to, not yet. not when you look so pretty. so vulnerable. so sweet. he does eventually move, sliding his jeans back up after cleaning himself off with the fabric of his boxers—he didn’t want to use anything of yours. because he didn’t want you to find out about this. and as much as he wanted to keep the pair of white, lacy panties he had found not even ten minutes ago, he knew it’d probably raise your suspicion if you woke up one day and saw that they weren’t there. that you somehow ‘lost’ them. he, also, placed your desk chair back where it was, not wanting to leave it just sitting beside your bed. that’s just utterly stupid if he did. and he isn’t stupid—on the contrary to some of the things he’s done to just get near you.  he snuck out of your room after making sure everything was where it was before, your drawers shut, wardrobe doors shut, chair back at your desk. everything. he did not want to leave a single thing out of place, afraid you’d piece things together somehow and know he jerked himself off to the sight of you sleeping. he snuck back downstairs after shutting your door behind him, making sure to keep his footsteps light and inaudible. keeping himself going unnoticed, because the last thing he wants is for to someone wake up and see him walking out of your room, or walking away from your room. but, he successfully makes it downstairs and back to the ‘living area’, to the couch, and lying back down. away from you. acting as if he didn’t do anything.

♱ JADE YAPS: it's part two!!! this was actually so fun to write. and i believe it is the longest fic i have written so far (but it won't be the last long one, keep your eyes and legs open)! i fucking love weak, obsessed, and somno sam.

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read (you want what you want) pt. 1! go to pinned .ᐣ view my other work.ᐟ

[burningembers91]

Crawl to Me - The Salesman x Fem!Reader (NSFW)

Follow up piece to:

Freak of Nature On Display A Game of Cat and Mouse Crime of Passion Rare Gunpowder and Lace Like a Dog Three Little Words The Baby Shower

Warning: This fic will deal with conversations about pregnancy

Synopsis: You can tell the Salesman is hiding something from you, and you know just how to make him spill his secrets. When he finally tells you what's on his mind, it changes the course of your relationship

A/N: I don't know who I become when I write about this man... I just become absolutely feral

He was on his knees for you, the wooden floorboards of your bedroom digging into the cartilage of his kneecaps. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been there, the silk blindfold covering his eyes and blocking his view of the clock on your bedside table. Every inch of his body ached, an exquisite mixture of pleasure and pain. His leaking cock stood to attention, his shaft twitching as he listened to you walk leisurely across the floor. 

You were teasing him, taking him to the very precipice of insanity and he loved it. Every so often, your fingers would trail gently across the skin of shoulders as you walked by, the gentle caress eliciting a wanton moan from his lips. He craved your touch, needed it more than oxygen, and he was grateful for anything you gave him. 

“Tell me you want me,” you whispered, crouching down so you were level his with his ear. Your breath tickled the sensitive skin of his neck, every hair standing on end as he moaned. 

“I want you,” he growled, his throbbing cock almost painful as he silently begged for you touch him. 

“Tell me you need me,” you breathed, your hand entwining roughly in his hair as you pulled his head back. 

“I need you,” he pleaded, his voice uncharacteristically whiny. “Oh god, please. I need you.” 

You’d been at this for hours, teasing him, coaxing him to the brink of orgasm before snatching his pleasure away in your beautifully manicured hands. His body was crying out for release, his pre-cum coating his shaft as he sat crouched on the floor like an obedient mutt. You could see he was desperate, could tell by the way he whimpered for you that he needed a release. But you could also tell he was hiding something from you; you were able to read your man like a book. Ever since the baby shower he’d been so needy, yet so withdrawn. He’d cling to you, his tall, muscular frame draped across yours, but he couldn’t never tell you what was on his mind. He constantly wanted to fuck you, wanted to bury himself inside you and would beg you to let him cum. He seemed almost grateful when you said yes, his moans guttural as he painted your insides. You’d always let him cum inside you, had enjoyed the way he claimed you with his very essence, but at the moment, finishing inside of you was almost like a kink to him. 

You watched his body shudder with desire, his abs twitching with the force of staying upright for so long. Perching on the edge of the bed, you watched him, savouring the breathy little whimpers he emitted. 

“Crawl to me,” you finally instructed, when you were confident you’d punished him enough. He obeyed your order, his hands outstretched as he blindly searched for you. When he finally reached you, when his fingers brushed the soft skin of your calves, his lips peppered desperate kisses up your legs, praising you as he made his way up your body. 

“Take off the blindfold,” you whispered, wanting to see the desire in his eyes. Pulling the silk fabric from his face, he moaned at the sight before him. You lay reclined on the bed, your legs spread, arousal dripping from your core. 

“Lick it up,” you told him, smiling slyly as he obeyed. His tongue worked feverishly against you, moaning into your slick folds as he lapped up your wetness. You rewarded him with your moans, your breathy gasps like music to his ears. When you came for him, the noise was heavenly, your moans so loud and unabashed as you held his head against your center, thrusting your hips against his tongue. 

“Do you want to fuck me?” You asked him, watching his cock tremble with need. He was still on his knees for you, his head nodding so furiously his hair flopped in front of his beautiful brown eyes. 

“Tell me what you’ve been hiding from me,” you whispered sweetly, “and I’ll let you fuck me.”

He froze to the spot, looking up at you from his position on the floor. You knew him so well, could read him like a book and he’d been a fool to think he could ever hide something from you. Had he been saner, he might have resisted more, but you had the unwavering ability to drive him to the brink of insanity. 

“I want you to have my baby,” he pleaded, groaning as the words left him, a weight lifted from his shoulder. 

You sat there in silence, staring down at him. You knew he had very little patience for anyone but you, you understood his incapacity to feel anything for anyone but you. You wondered how much he’d thought this over, whether he thought he’d be capable of loving the tiny life you’d create. It was like he could read your mind, the words tumbling out of his mouth as he begged you to let him get you pregnant. 

“Please, I want this so badly. I want a family with you, I want a baby with you. I know I would love them, because they’d be part of you.”

You’d always wanted a family, but you’d put the idea to the back of your mind when you fell for your sadistic salesman. And yet here he was, on his knees, begging you for a baby. In one single moment, all of your dreams came true. 

“Ok,” you smiled, “let’s have a baby.”

The way he fucked you was almost feral, his strong arms pinning you against the mattress as he thrust into you. Tears pricked at his eyes as he came, his cock remaining buried in your tight walls long after he’d finished, desperate to make sure you’d taken every last drop of him. 

That night you talked through how a family would look, how the addition of a baby would change your life. He’d already picked out the room he wanted to convert into a nursery, had already been secretly looking at cribs once you’d fallen asleep. Any doubt you had about him loving your baby vanished as soon as he showed you the plans he’d been making, the research he’d done into the best diapers, buggies and changing tables. 

Yes, your grey suited salesman was unpredictable and wild. But you knew there was nothing he wouldn’t do for you and the life you were going to create.