#the head-in-crotch one if you're blanking

[pheyphem]

yknow as insane as they're acting these days nothing will ever, ever top that yoga pose from giving the people what they want

[patrophthia]

mini skirt | theodore nott

pairing: theodore nott x reader

wc: 3.5k

genre: smut (minors DNI), fluff, best friends to lovers, meddling blaise zabini just coz, they’re in love 🤢🤢, self indulgent im so sorry for the person i am

smut tags: dry humping, coming untouched, (very little) oral sex, come eating, unprotected sex (don’t do this!!), fingering, size kink, breeding kink, bulge kink, cream pie, so much dirty talk oml, big dick theo 😞, reader being shorter than theo, reader wearing a mini skirt, lots of cussing

summary: blaise zabini’s idea of how to play matchmaker might be different from the traditional way of doing it but at least you ended up getting dicked down, so you guess his method works too.

Blaise Zabini's idea of playing match maker is whispering to you —in a not so quiet way, that he'd heard 'Nott's got a big dick' and though you swatted him away. Face disgruntled, mumbling about how you did not want to know about your best friend's private parts. You're terrible enough of a person for your eyes to drop to his crotch when he sat down on the couch opposing yours.

There's a call of your name, once, twice. Before Theodore leaned forward, his voice loud enough for your eyes to tear itself from his thighs to his eyes. You gulped, hoping —hoping that he thought you'd blanked out and just happened to be staring at a very unfortunate spot. "Hmm?"

Theodore's held onto your gaze, lazying back onto his coach. "You okay? I asked if you wanted to head back up but you didn't answer."

"Head back up?" You repeated. "Head where?"

He eyes you suspiciously. "To your dorm?" Theodore gets up from his seat and leans down to crouch beneath you, staring up at you. "Or mine?"

You blink. Mind running in all kind of ideas —save for the ones you knew he meant when he asked you this question. You shift slightly in your side, scanning the Slytherin's common room as the party rage on; it's nothing too big, a get together between all seventh year supplied with alcohol —that Draco definitely did not buy just to impress the golden boy, not at all.

"I'm pretty sure I saw Draco take Harry up to your dorm, and neither of them look like they're exhibitionists." You say off handedly, looking down at him. "Besides, I'm actually enjoying myself here."

And to prove yourself, you get up from your seat; pulling your mini skirt low enough to cover your ass. Theodore, despite having every chance to peer underneath it, remains respectful as he plays with the hem of your skirt. "You are?"

"You aren't?" You ask back, trying not to squirm from the way his finger brushes against your thigh. Salazar this was your best friend for shit's sake, knowing that he could hypothetically have a big dick should not turn you on as much as it was.

Theodore shakes his head, slowly, almost as if he was in a haze as he quietly tells you. "Not really."

"Let's head up then," you tell him, and though both of your voices are low —barely even audible considering how loud Mattheo decided to play his music. Theodore was able to understand you perfectly, picking himself up as he used your waist as his guide. "Come on."

His pinkie finger catches onto yours as he gets onto his feet, him towering over you the slightest bit. And though, Theodore and you leaving a party early to turn in for the night was a sight your friends were used to by now —knowing that nothing ever did came out of leaving the two of you alone to your own devices. Something about how Theodore was looking at you makes them think that that might just change tonight.

But, they regress and bid the two of you goodnight with a few sporting playful frowns on how you never stay with them until the party actually ends.

You only smile, leading Theodore up the stairs to your dorm like every other night. Once in the comfort of your room, you sit yourself down on your bed, patting the spot for besides you for Theodore to take. He did as told, melting into your touch as you brush his hair back. "How much did you drink?"

His eyes are shut, face leaning into the palm of your hand as his own grips onto your skirt, tugging you closer to him. "Just those two shots we took when we first went down."

You hum, letting him pull you to him. "Did you smoke?" Theodore shakes his head slightly, before opening his eyes back up at you. You laugh lightly. "Then what's up with you tonight? I'm always the one dragging us back."

"Just tired, I guess." He murmurs.

"You guess?" You ask him, standing up —letting his hands fall where it'd been trailing up your skirt back to his lap, lingering slightly on what sits above it. "When are you ever not tired?"

Theodore laughs at your words, eyes crinkling as he did so. "When I watch you play quidditch," he says, pushing himself up to press his back against the head of your bed. Watching as you shuffle towards your wardrobe, picking out a pair of sweats along with two shirts he'd left at your room. "Or when you're drunk out of your mind and I'd to have to play pretend as your boyfriend and take care of you."

You snort at his words, picking out a pair of shorts for yourself. "You don't have to pretend to be my boyfriend to take care of me."

"Mhmm," he hums from his spot, lounging lazily as you walk up to his side, the change of clothes in hand. "But it's more affective that way." His hand finds its way to your hips, pulling you closer to him. "And I like it. I like pretending to be yours."

There's a split second where his eyes falters, looking at you almost nervously as he waits for you to respond. "You do?"

"Mhmm," he hums, pushing himself up to sit straight. "More than anything."

It's nauseating to see him look at you —eyes lacking their usual stoic and disinterest to instead be replaced by lust and adoration.

Without thinking twice, you leaned down meeting his lips halfway as your eyes flutters shut. And though seated, Theodore was still tall enough to kiss you back with ease. Letting you melt into the feeling of his soft lips moving slowly and desperately against yours.

"Fuck," Theodore mutters breathlessly, he pushes against your hand; dropping your (mostly his) clothes to the floor. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that."

"What?" You giggle, letting him pull you onto his lap. "Kiss me?"

"To kiss you again," He murmurs, attaching his lips back onto yours; a soft whimper slipping out of his lips when his clothed cock brushes against your core through his swift movements.

Fuck, Blaise was not lying.

In between your legs, underneath beige slacks, Theo's giant cock ruts up to you. You gasp into his mouth. "Ah—" you try to catch your breath. "—fuck, Theo. You've been wanting to kiss me since we were thirteen?"

"Mhmm," he hums, long slender hands gripping onto your waist before he slides one underneath your shirt and lays it flat against your tummy. His free hand, resting on your thigh, guiding you down onto him. "You're the only girl I ever want to kiss."

It's silly, you know it is —especially when his cock was pressing into your cunt, only separated by a thin layer of clothing— and yet you can't help but smile up at him, almost giggling when you ask him. " 's that why you asked me to be your first kiss?"

"Mhmm." He's smiling when he kisses you. "Can you blame me?" His tongue licks at your top lips, quick and gentle, trying to gauge on what you tasted like. "Prettiest girl at Hogswart and she was willing to be my first kiss."

His hand moves grips onto your waist, his touch blazing hot. "... Flatterer," you say, a playful pout prominent on your lips.

He chuckles, pressing his lips back onto yours, hand moving from your thigh to tug at your shirt. When you nod, Theodore pulls away just enough for him to take your shirt off and toss it Salazar knows where.

He doesn't even try to hide his staring, canting his hips upwards as he held you down. "Can you feel that?" He asks breathlessly, almost whining as he humps against you. "Can you feel how hard you make me?"

You could only moan, nodding dumbly as you rolled your hips. "Fuck—" he says against your lips, "—how'd you get even prettier, baby?"

And despite how hot —how nauseating it is to feel his boner pressing onto your wet cunt, you can't help but giggle at his words, at how turned on he got just at the sight of your tits. "It's just boobs."

"It's your boobs." He hand goes up behind you, making quick work at the clasps before kissing your chest, licking at your nipples; his hips not halting in its movement. "So so pretty."

His hand slips down, going underneath your skirt to knees at you thigh. "Shirt—" you roll onto him, breathless each time you feel just how hard he was. "—shirt, Theo."

Though incoherent, Theodore still understood you enough to pull his shirt off of himself before attaching his lips back onto you. His tongue glides against yours, swallowing your moans up when he bucks particularly hard.

It’s humiliating how the simple act of humping, combined with Theo’s hand playing with your tits, pinching and rolling your nipple between his long fingers with his tongue exploring your mouth has you writhing on top of him.

"Theo, ah—" you whine, hands gripping onto his shoulders to steady yourself, a familiar warmth building in your stomach. "— wait, fuck!"

Theodore's hips coming to a halt, as he watch you cum on top of him —in awe, without him even having touched you. "Did you just… ?"

You whine, pressing your face against his bare shoulder to hide just how embarrass you were. Theodore pulls you back, looking at you with what you could only assume was love. "Did you just come, baby?"

You nod bashfully, hands going to cover your face just for him to pin both of them down. "So cute, so so pretty." He kisses you roughly, rutting up to you. "Gonna fuck you nice and full, how’s that sound?"

Theodore only frowns when you nod, always having been the talkative one in your relationship. “Words, baby. That sound good to you?”

“Ah!” Your panties stick to your cunt uncomfortably, feeling all too messy when he grinds his cock onto you. “Good,” you whine, “ ‘s good.”

Theodore smiles, pressing a quick kiss onto your lips as a reward. His hand trails down to your thighs, flipping your skirt up before groaning at the sight of his beige slacks soiled by your slick and cum. "Look at the mess you made, didn’t even have to touch you.”

Sliding your panties to the side, Theodore runs two fingers down your slit. "Even your cunt's pretty," he murmurs, bringing his finger up to his mouth to licks at your juices. "You taste even better."

You're pouting as you watch him play with your pussy, fingers pressed onto your clit, going back in for another taste before you finally move down his crotch, just enough for you to palm at his cock.

"Fuck—" he whimpers, hips bucking onto your hand.

Feeling proud you pulled such a reaction out of him, you reach for his belt, lifting yourself up off of him as he helps rid himself of his slacks. Pulling back his boxers, you will yourself not to drool over the sight of his long and thick cock, milky from the precum leaking from its tip.

Your hand moves on its own, wrapping around the base of his hard cock only to find that your hand was too small to wrap all the way around him. "Why didn't you tell me your dick was huge?."

"You want me to —fuck—" Theodore whines, cock twitching in your hand as it begged for you to move. "You want me to tell my best friend about the size of my cock?"

"Yeah?" You move your hands up, thumb running along his tip. "Biggest dick I've ever seen."

"You never told me you had —fuck, baby— never told me you had a perfect cunt either." Theodore moans, the sight in front of him feels like it came straight out of a porno. His best friend and her small hands playing with his cock, tits out with only her tiny skirt stopping him from fucking her into the mattress.

You giggle softly before leaning down to take him inside your mouth. "Fuck!" Theodore choked out, hips roughly thrusting into your mouth. He's too big for you to fit in entirely in your throat and he knows it. And he's too close to cumming in your mouth to keep you were you are.

His hand pulling your head up and away from his cock swiftly. His eyes are shut, head leaning back against your headboard as he breathes heavily.

Your eyes are teary when he opens his eyes back up, and he wills himself not to think about how it's the result of him fucking your face. Theodore brings you up to sit between his legs, kissing you desperately, groaning when he tastes himself on your lips.

Your hand goes back to grab at his length and he whines, pressing his face into your neck and squirms underneath your touch. "Wait, fuck—" his hand goes to stop you, brain going dead as you pumped his cock. "—fuck, fuck wait."

Theodore moves away from your touch, pressing your hand down onto your mattress as he heaves heavily. "Shit— Next time," he whines, "we can do all that next time," he murmurs against your neck, pulling his head away to look at you, he adds: "but I need to fuck you. Please, just let me fuck you. I'll do anything to feel your cunt and fill you up nice and full, please baby."

And when he pleads for you so nicely, who were you to deny him anything? He kisses you again, laying you down on your back, whispering soft thank you’s as he presses open mouth kisses down your body. Slender hands roaming around as he tries to map you out. It's only when Theodore flips your skirt up, ripping away your panties to give himself a full view of your throbbing pussy did you realize what he's about to do.

"Hey, I liked those!"

"I'll buy you more, baby." You're dripping in front of him and he think he might be losing his mind. "Need to eat you out first."

"Thought you wanted to fuck me," you whine, gasping softly when he slides his fingers over your pussy, "why can you play with —fuck."

You pout at him, not expecting him to slide his finger inside you while you talked. "Why can you— ah! —play with me when I can't play with you."

"Not playing baby, just stretching you out," he tells you with a soft smile, leaning over to kiss your pout away. "Not gonna fit unless we stretch you out."

" 's fine," you whimper, feeling him slip another finger in, fucking into you slowly. "it'll fit just fine."

"You sure?" He picks up his pace, long fingers reaching places your own never could. "Don't wanna hurt you."

" 's fine," you moan when he slips a third finger into your cunt, "don't care if it hurts, just wanna feel you."

Theodore pulls out, bringing his fingers to his lips to taste you once more. Moving back up, Theodore grabs at a pillow, placing it beneath your lower back to elevate your cunt. Slowly, he guides his dick into you, gasping at the feeling of his thick head stretching you open.

"Fuck—" Theodore pushes in deeper, pausing when he feels you clenching impossibly tight around him "—your cunt's sucking me in so good."

The burn is delicious, his cock tearing you open from within, stretching you out to take him into you. "So full," you whine, pressing your head into your sheets as he slides in even deeper into you. " 's too much."

"I know, baby," he murmurs, rubbing slow circles onto your thighs, "just a little more, I know you can take it."

You whine pathetically, feeling him fuck the last few inches snuggly into you. "Ah!" He hasn't even moved and you're already breathless, feeling him in your stomach. “Fuck me, Theo. Fuck me nice and full.”

“You want me to fuck your small cunt nice and full?” Theodore pulls out entirely, leaving just his tip in your cunt before roughly thrusting back in, hands on your hips as he pounds into you. "I’ll fuck it nice and full for you, maybe even put a baby in you."

And when your pussy grips his cock at his words, Theodore drives into you even harder. “Put a baby in me, please.”

“Yeah? You want that?” He watches as your tits bounce with each harsh thrust. “You want to carry my baby? Have your pretty tits grow bigger? You want that?”

“Yes,” you cry out, eyes screwed shut, the pain of his cock splitting you open mixing with pleasure. “Yes, ah— want it.”

“Fuck—” Having just about enough, Theodore pushes your mini skirt up your stomach giving him a full view of how well he's fucking his thick cock into you. The mound of your pussy bulging as it makes room for his dick to spear into your cunt.

"See that baby? See how good your cunt’s at taking my cock?" He asks, his hand grabbing yours to press down below your navel. "See how good I'm fucking you?"

You can only moan, crying out his name when he presses your hand down onto the bulge in your stomach, pushing his own dick out of your pussy. "Feel how deep my cock is inside of you?"

“Gonna be so easy for me to breed you,” he murmurs, wrapping your legs around his waist to fuck himself even deeper into you. “Want me to breed you, baby? Hmm?”

You nod desperately, too cock drunk to speak. Jolting when Theodore presses a harsh finger to your clit, circling it as he fucked deeper into you. "Theo, I'm gonna—"

"I know baby," he says, his cock getting impossibly harder inside of you. He presses another finger onto your clit, rubbing tight circles as you squirm underneath him. "Fuck— you're pussy's so good. Need you to come on my cock."

Theodore leans down to kiss you, pushing his length even deeper into you. You moan into his mouth, fucking you through your orgasm, your legs trembling as you try to squeeze him in.

Theodore fucks your cum back into you harder and faster, chasing his own high. One quick glance at his cock coated with your cum, followed by the bulge in your tummy was sends has him rutting into your tight cunt, spilling his warm seed inside you.

Theodore thrusts a few more time just to savor the sight of you spread on his cock before finally pulling out of you. "Fuck Theo," you whined, his cum leaking out of you, making a mess all over your bedsheet. "Were you just never going to tell me your dick is huge?"

Theodore only smiles bashfully, pressing a kiss onto your forehead. "We're still on this?"

"You expect me to not be on this?" You say with a slight pout, Theodore only half paying attention to you as he grabbed a random shirt from the floor to wipe at you thighs. "It's almost like you don't even think of me as you best friend."

"Pretty sure best friends don't go around telling each other about how big their dick is, baby," he replies.

"Blaise can know about your dick size but I can't?" You murmur. "Talk about double standards."

Theodore pauses his movements, hand hovering over your spent pussy. "That fucker."

"Hmm?" You're curious now, confused as to why he was suddenly cursing out your friend. Never having been one to use curse words unless —well, unless he's fucking you.

"He told me that you liked guys who begged," he says with a slight front, going back to cleaning you up nonetheless.

"Is that why you begged to fuck me?"

"No, that was all me," he answers truthfully, ears tinging red in embarrassment,"just wanted to fuck you."

"And they say romance is dead," you say playfully before your eye zeroes into what's in Theodore's hand. "What about the whole breeding thing? And ‘s that my shirt?"

Theodore, freezes with his hands between your thighs, feeling you stare him down as he did so. Slowly, he unravels the shirt he'd use to wipe you clean only to realize that yes, that is your shirt.

"You ripped up my panties, messed up my skirt, tried to put a baby in me, and used my shirt to wipe up your cum," you say, frowning, "I'm never having sex with you again."

Theodore's quick to apologize, peppering your face with kisses, mumbling sorry over and over again. "I'll sneak you out of Oxford street, take my black card with you, how's that sound?"

— from bee: this is my first time writing smut be nice to me 😡

[malereadermaniac]

Barack bunny pt 2 - Male Reader x Pro-hero's as generals (+bonuses)

This was requested by @jojorefrence23 ! Thought it was such a good sequel idea! word count: 4.6k (loooooong) Nsfw / MDNI ~ amab m!reader / FDNI Characters: Enji, Fatgum, Aizawa, Dabi, Shigi, Shinso + Tamaki, Mirio, Shindo Top!Characters x Bottom!Reader

Inevitably, your reputation as your division's barrack bunny had reached other divisions which weren't lucky enough to be blessed by your presence

Most lieutenants had also heard of you, and news of you had travelled to even some generals

Some were more interested than others, surprisingly few were concerned about your more energetic hobbies - especially as you were a man getting it on with other guys in your devision and not a female cadet; their rules weren't exactly updated to ban gay relationships too!

And so, other people began to talk to you, your presence more known than ever before - most of the guys who were already trying to get with you livid at this

General Aizawa (EraserHead)

Even the most reserved of the generals had become interested in you, the man being called 'eraserhead' behind his back due to the blank expression on his face at all times

To be fair, the man has to manage a bunch of knucklehead young men without getting any ass - so when you basically show up on a platter, it's hard for him not to test the waters

Aizawa already had a softspot for you, as you were one of the less rowdy ones in the bunch - always chipper but never annoying, and always happy to help whenever the overworked general needed it

So once the two of you were all alone in his office as you helped him out with whatever he needed, your trusted general decided to get a little more personal with you

Conversation swept you both up and you two ended up talking until late into the night - Aizawa even comfortable enough to talk about his daughter with you; DILF? Smash.

One thing led to another and the man was holding your waist and your cheek with his slender, rough hands as he kissed you - his tongue completely dominating yours

A few moments later, you were bent over his desk, getting fucked like a cheap slut. Aizawa holding both of your arms back only with one of his hands, the other on the small of your back as his cock fills you up

Your General's whole office had been christened with your moans that night - the muscular man standing naked above you as he came on your face with a horny look in his eyes, holding you in his strong arms as he fucks you against all 4 walls of his office

It's easier to just say that you were very tired the next morning at attention

But ever since then, you were even more Aizawa's favourite

The man did everything in his power (which he had quite a bit of) to keep you away from your other escapades - bakugou being one of the many which would cuss out the general behind his back foe this

The fucking didn't stop either

I mean, the man was constantly stressed and sexually frustrated, and you were young and horny as fuck 24/7

Aizawa's favourite thing to do was call you into his office a few hours after training, watching you walk into his office with a smile and pep in your step always made him feel at ease

The sexy general would then gesture towards his crotch with his head and eyes, those sunken, sexy eyes of his

Within the next minuet, you're under Aizawa's desk, his cock slipped out out of his cammo cargoes, half of his veiny, thick dick down your throat and your hand wrapped around whatever you couldn't get in

And while the situation only really pleasured your general, you couldn't help but feel incredibly turned on by the sight above you - Aizawa moaning and grunnting, his long, muscular arms hanging down his sides as his chin is tilted up to show his sexy stubble, his sexy eyes looking down at you with a look than sends shivers down your spine

The man also always sports a black, tight tanktop every time he's in his office - a comfort thing - and fucking hell does he look delicious with his muscles popping out of that top, sweat clearly dampening the material as he pants and moans from your mouth

But don't think the man stops there, Aizawa is more than happy to return the favour after you'd pleasure him so, so nicely - so for another hour or two you're usually stuck in his office; his veiny fingers inside of you as your usually reserved general laps at your twitching cock, you cumming on his face and hair everytime as if on a schedule, the action followed up by a couple rounds of his cock re-arranging your guts

Late Night talking is very common with you two - like with most of your other partners, they feel comfortable around you - you two chat about life and other things, Aizawa feels at home with you

The man knew he was in deep shit when he caught himself fantasising about you meeting Eri back home...

General Taishiro (Fatgum)

Easily the most popular and well liked general in your entire unit - earning a nickname from the troops to show how friendly he was with you guys

Fatgum - as the blonde, muscular man was still somehow in shape despite eating like he'd been starved for days at every single meal time

Taishiro is a very attractive man, and so he was very used to women and men pouncing on him and offering themselves to him whenever they built up the courage - and that's exactly what he expected you to do

You may as well be walking around with a scarlet letter on you, because litterally everyone you talked to knew about how you get down and dirty - so of fucking course your favourite general had to know too!

However, when you didn't pounce on General Taishiro, and instead barely gave him a second look, that's when the man became interested - predicable really

All of the troops in your unit loved this man, and you did too, and that's exactly why you barely gave your general a second look

You didn't want to ruin your friendship with him or his view of you, or even his relationship with your fellow troops (some of whom would threaten to fight the man)

But your views on the matter definitely changed one night, when Taishiro 'accidentally' bumped into you

It was just after training, you had just showered after having a little fun with Kirishima and weren't looking when you turned the corner to leave the shower room

That's when your face smashed into not a hard, cold wall, but instead the warm, soft, bare chest of your general

You apologised but the general took the opportunity to strike up conversation - knowing very well that he was fully nude except for a very small towel around his hips, his muscular body on full display

But the blonde actually couldn't believe it when your eyes didn't stray from his even once the whole conversation - he couldn't say the same about his, your nude body looked like it was made for him

The man even thought he'd heard wrong, that you weren't the barrack bunny everyone claimed you were

However the hickeys covering your neck and the lovebites on your shoulders and nipples blew that thought away

It took you by surprise when Taishiro's attitude slightly changed, his tone more dominant - but what the general actually said was what caught you by surprise

"Come take a shower with me"

No question mark at the end or anything, it was more like an order

The next thing led to another and the two of you were passionately making out in a shower stall, your general much taller than you as he held his huge, manly hand around your waist and gently caressing your cheek with his thumb

Taishiro was literally taking your breath away, all that could be heard in the shower room was a small stream of water from the shower and you sexy, breathy pants as the general you viewed as a friendly guy was holding you up in his massive arms with ease and eating you out in his arms!

Fuck the man knew what to do to turn you on!

The poor water bill that night must of been through the roof because you and your sexy, manly general didn't stop fucking until the sun came up - amd for most of the night he held you up in his arms! Strong ass man I tell you!

His loads filled you up to brim after just a 3 rounds - those rounds having lasted an hour each!!!

So to call it a night, Taishiro decided to gently finger his thick cum out of you- making you cum in the process and giving the blonde general an incredible image to think about whenever he has some alone time...

'Wait... why was General Taishiro showering in the common showers when he has his own??'

Your relationship didn't stop there either! Your friendly general joining the group of men that were wrapped around your finger

But man were the others livid, because the blonde made sure everyone knew he was now also up in your guts at least twice a week by making sure to sit next to you every meal time

The blonde would eat his food with the generals even quicker than normal, pop some gum in and come and wiggle hid way right next to you, his muscular arms dropped around you as he gives smug looks to the other troops

His office had become the usual place for you two as well - the snacks in his mini-fridge coming in handy when you're exhausted and hungry from fucking like animals

His favourite thing to do is to eat you out on his desk, his long, warm tongue doing things to you you'd never experienced - his favourite part being you grabbing his sexy blonde hair once you get oh so close to cumming

But Taishiro wasn't opposed to 'quietly' (loud as fuck) have sex in your bed with the others

You really woke up a smug part of him, one that wants to show you off, show off how only his big, veiny, uncut cock makes you moan like a bitch in heat

General Todoroki (Enji)

The highest ranking general which all of the troops barely ever saw - even his sons rarely saw him unless they were reporting their weekly tasks

Strict and no-bullshit is how most people described General Todoroki - and definitely unopposed to nepotism; his sons were both in higher ranks just cause!

But another way his underlings would describe him is sexually frustrated

The man was divorced and hadn't gotten a piece of ANYTHING in at least a year - so when your activities were reported to him by a worried little troop, his ears perked up

You were scared shitless the whole day after being called to his office for 8pm - but your guys and even Shoto assured you it was going to be nothing bad

But your heart certainly sank when you walked into that office and saw the chief general sitting in his chair with his huge arms crossed across his beefy chest and a look on his face that could only be described as a scowl

When General Enji started with "I've heard of you and your... relations" my god were you actually shaking

But you didn't expect him to cut you a deal

"I won't pass the concern on... as long as you can please me well enough"

And the rest was history

As you'd expect, after having earth-shattering sex on both behalf - Enji becoming addicted to your tight body and sexy features after being celibate for so long - you two continued having 'meetings' every few weeks whenever the chief called you to his office

And the man is just as anyone would think he is in bed - a fucking sadistic dom!

Enji loved having you service him below his desk, chocking on his thick cock and trying to stifle your sounds, gripping his thick, muscular thighs when someone walks into his office to talk about something

If you even make a sound which Enji has to make an excuse for, as soon whoever was bothering Enji leaves, you get pulled up into the huge General's lap and get spanked so, so much

The sadist makes you count his slaps out loud, his massive, rough hands leaving bright red marks on your ass to adorn his love bites from previously eating you out

Enji likes to see you cry - not in a horrible way, but either due to your gag reflex, his spanking, or from the sheer amount of pleasure you were being subjected to

Unlike the other guys who have fallen for you, Enji doesn't get jealous of the others - the General knows that he's at the top of the hierarchy and that you are pretty much at his beck and call, the others don't have that power over you

Oh and the man really eats up the whole power synamic - practically ripping his cargoes at the seam with his boner whenever you calm him 'sir'or 'general'

If there's one thing the man doesn't like, it's that his sons are getting a piece of you too - he feels a little weird about it, but he mainly feels a carnal need to posses you in that respect; if he sees Shoto talking to you woth that lovestruck look in his eyes, expect a 'meeting' later that day

Oh and another thing General Enji fucking loves is after he cums inside of you; you on his lap lazily leaning against his desk, regaining your composure, his huge dick still stretching you as his cum leaks from your hole, and my god your much smaller, fucking spent cock, semi-flaccid just resting on your stomach.... it makes the man want another round instantly

Lieutenant Shigiraki (Defo OOC)

Another kinda reserved guy in your course - but once you break down his walls, Shigi is really just a sweet guy

The two of you became quite friendly after you managed to get him to talk - and you kinda gathered that he's never really had any friends (other than Lieutenant Todoroki)

And you can tell this because after only a few conversations with the Lieutenant, he was oversharing so, so much about his life

How he's never really had friends, how he's never even kissed anyone because he's insecure about his dry skin and because he thinks he's ugly

And when you comfort him and assure him that he's quite attractive, you realised that Shigi hasn't ever even experienced a compliment before - HOW SAD WAS THID GUYS LIFE??

And again, you could tell this because the man got a VERY obvious boner when you complimented him.....

It became very obvious that Shigiraki had developed a crush on you very quickly, the man looking for you every second of the day and spending time around you - not even talking! Just hanging

And my lord when he found out from Dabi about your reputation. Shigiraki literally went full on emo, he got mad at you whenever you tried to talk to you and all!

It was only when you waited for him outside of his room that he HAD to talk to you

And even then, he didn't talk! He listened to your demands of asking what was wrong, but halfway through, your words were falling on dead ears as he became captivated by your looks - your body looking incredible in your unit's pyjamas

Shigiraki then cutting you off after not being able to deal with his achingly hard cock anymore, his rough yet warm hands grabbing your face and his lips crashing against yours

For an inexperienced guy, Shigiraki was a fucking good kisser

The cliche struggling to open the door and get inside the room while stripping occurred as the two of you didn't break the kiss - and again, for a fucking virgin Shigiraki was incredible

People had been missing out! The man was well endowed with a horse cock on him! Long but not too thick as to break you, veiny and white with a cute pink, uncut tip - guessing he'd learnt how to expertly use it and his hands for a matter of fact from all the porn he told you he watches (romantic gay porn mind you)

Guess Internet access after 9pm was a bonus from being a lieutenant

Anyways, after your first sexual affair with the stereotypical 'I like my white boys malnourished' lieutenant, the two of you continued what you had going on

Shigiraki fucking loved the way you looked in any of the provided uniform - the pyjamas, the cargoes, the tank tops; all of it just made you look so hot to him

Also, for a lieutenant, the man surely liked to be dominated a little (guess that's why he's in the army!)

Shigiraki fucking loved it when you held his hands above his head and rode him to high-heaven, moving down to kiss him and his neck as you listen to his slutty moans

His hands just felt right around your hips, their dry exterior a nice contrast to your sweaty and hot skin

And my god does this masochist fucking LOVE IT when you tug so harshly on his hair when he's fucking tou missonary and you're about to cum hard - the man spending at least an hour a day looking at the sexy scratch marks adorning his surprisingly muscular back

Like everyone else smitten with you, Shigi also fucking hated that any other man was blessed with your touch and your taste or even just your pressance and breath - but Shigiraki was like actually going crazy over it, visibly jealous and possessive over you whenever another guys tried to talk to you when he was with you

Many guys have talked about it and even put the fact that their all fucking you aside to try and deal with the way Shigi was behaving - 6 of them having a 'chat' with him, which you had to deal with the consequences of and scold them all

But you can't get mad at your lieutenants possessiveness, he's just too cute and smitten for you!

Lieutenant Todoroki (Dabi)

By far one of the sexiest men in your unit, a man who came to the army straight after college and never left - his literal battle scars as proof of that

Dabi was one of the first few that you had caught the eye of - and since his literal father was in charge, he'd had quite a few partners in his time in the army, so the rugged man decided to try his luck with you

And boy oh boy! Did he manage to rizz you the fuck up! The taller man having you up against a wall within seconds of chatting with you, his knee rubbing your crotch gently doing 'the thing'

Basically, you were making out with one of your lieutenant only a week or two into your service - the muscular, dominant man roaming his hands all over your body in order to feel you and get to know you even better

Dabi was instantly addicted to your taste, your warmth, the sounds you would make as he hugs your waist and kisses you deeper turning the man on even more

And wow, history was made when the two of you managed to break off of each other enough to get to Dabi's private room

That man fucked you to heaven and back TWICE - you're pretty sure your whole unit somehow heard you from across the dorms!

And ever since then, the two of you have kept each other entertained when in need of it - you visit Dabi's room very frequently

The lieutenant just can't get enough of you, he's fucked so many people before but the way your tight ass just sucks his veiny cock in gets him going!

Dabi's also very confident in his relationship with you (whatever that relationship may be) cause he doesn't not give a fuck if other guys try to assert their dominance around you and him, Dabi just chuckles when other guys flirt or talk to you cause he knows that you and him are like a puzzle - the way his hips lock against the smooth of your ass in Doggy, the was his dick fills you up just right, the way his rough, scarred hands spank you and grip your skin; all of him just fits with all of you.

The thing that gets under Dabi's skin is that his younger brother gets to see and feel you in the way he does - he teases Todoroki endlessly about how much better of a time you have with Dabi rather than with him, or that he's sorry to his little bro but you're just insatiable around Dabi!

You inly intervene when you see it happen (but you can't really complain, it gets Todoroki really fired up the next time you two fuck)

Dabi's biggest thing is showing off his power/status by doing shit with you in front of other troops - it just turns the lieutenant on so, so much to know: a) how embarrassed yet very turned on you're getting and, b) how the others can't really say or do much about it unless they want to get written up by Dabi! They're just sentenced to the punishment of watching your body get fondled, your neck kissed and your dick and ass played with right in front of them

Fingering you is another huge thing for Dabi - 69-ing is literally his favourite foreplay with you because he gets to feel your wet, warm, tight throat around his big dick and to also see your tight hole clench around his fingers as he laps at it from time to time~

Dabi is surprisingly good at aftercare too! If you'd ask him if he was your boyfriend, he'd laugh in your face - but Dabi takes care of you and keeps you close as if you're a married couple!

The man likes to hold you close, the two of you bare-chested in some oversized sweats just breathing in each other's scents in a comfortable silence - a few sweet nothings being whispered from time to time

Shinso Hitoshi

This poor man joined the army as an escape - a place where he could make some friends and chill, a daily routine but with no life struggles

That was until he got roped into your whirlwind of a life!

It wasn't your fault that it happened, Shinso was to blame for letting himself into temptation and kissing you after months of sexual and romantic tension building up within your friendship

The two of you were close, Shinso a little more closed off, but happy to listen to your hyperactive rambling - but once the sunken eyed man kissed you one night, shit really changed

Shinso wasn't a virgin, but he'd never had actually good sex, so his mind was fucking blown when he came within minuets - feeling like an orgasm from his hand x10!

After you two fucked, Shinso was on you like a bee to a flower, literally inseparable

The man was either always touching you or near you and whenever the two of you could get it on, he would make SURE that you did

And because you were Shinso's first real partner, the man did start to confuse sex for romance - but he of course knew of your free-spirited nature and never ask you out...

The sex was great though, and he would stay haply with that, hearing your sexy moans in his ear along with his name in your whiny voice was enough for now

You had to show Shinso quite a few things, like how to finger you and how to pump his hips just right to make you weak, he was so cute, playing attention for how to make you feel amazing

And holy shit was this man's mind BLOWN when you sucked him off - his dick n balls hanging out of his unzipped camo cargoes, his muscles sweating against his white tank top just moaning as he looked down on you slobbering on his dick

He's also pretty good around others, well at least he seems to be

Shinso is too reserved to try to be possessive over you around other guys, but man, does he freak out on the inside!

Shinso will be internally screaming and thinking of beating whoever is touching you so sexually tf up! But he'd feel too embarrassed to ever mention it to you! Settling on covering you in more of his lovebites than usual...

Shinso is another man who just looks fucking stunning in army uniform, he used to work out a lot as he wouldn't hang out with people that much - and it fucking shows!

His muscular arms and fucking TONED abs look so good in his white tank, his stature just oozing SEX

And those combat boots.... Once Shinso starts to get more comfortable when having sex with you - he uses them boots real good.

His arms crossed against his chest ad he sits on a chair in an empty room, you on your knees below him as he rubs your dick harshly with his boots, cooing at you as a wet stain forms on your crotch from your pre~

Short bonuses!:

Tamaki Amajiki

Another super shy and reclusive guy, he only really joined the army for Mirio but meeting you was an added bonus!

You two don't fuck as much as Tamaki insist on hanging out - his face always dusted with a faint blush whenever he's around you

But when you two fuck, my god is it incredible - the man is shockingly good with his hands but he gets tired after only one round! But you can't complain, he's just so cute, snuggling into your naked body

And good lord, the way that his uniform is so oversized on him... it just makes you want to mentally undress him every time you see him

Mirio Togata

Another man who was built for the army - holy fuck does Mirio look so GOOD in an army uniform

The man works out constantly, his body like that of a god - his back and arms fucking huge, his abs like a washing board and his thighs deliciously suffocating (the uniform just extenuating his sexy features)

The two of you started fucking as a way to release stress, offering your help to a stressed looking Mirio led to your throat being stuffed with his cock and your nose with his pubes - and then later on your poor back arching to its limits as he wraps his huge hands around your waist and pushes you down to his bed as he drills his huge cock inside of you

Yes the man is a gentle giant when you two aren't shagging, but call an ambulance for yourself when you are - this man likes to rough you tf up

Yo Shindo

This man joined the army to try and feel powerful - he's so clearly insecure, so he tries to be the tough guy in your troop, always working out and always a dick to everyone

The two of you had your first encounter in the communal showers, the man had you on your knees real quick, his cum covering your face, your tongue cleaning his dick off

Shindo also really likes to flex while fucking your throat or ass, showing off his buldging muscles and hairy pits in his army tanktop feeds his ego and turns you on...

[neonovember]

bucky barnes as a husband headcanon!

heavily inspired by my steve headcanons here, I wanna try my hand at writing more of james. he is the epitome of devotion, he falls first and falls hard.

this kind of takes part in an alternative au (think avengers are still together but its post the falcon and the winter soldier)

he is canonically good at cunnilingus

you think I’m joking? This man divulges into a rabid animal the second he gets close to your thighs. He is on his knees whilst your pressed up against the counter rubbing his face against your clothed crotch moaning and grinding in the air

he says if he could have gotten a taste of you while he was the winter soldier it would've required his brain and reversed the brainwashing

’to be alone with you’ - hozier is bucky’s song

like steve, he feels the isolation and ghost-like feeling of being lost in time. Brooklyn doesn't feel like home anymore, he constantly reaches for you, even in sleep because you are the thing he now belongs to.

you can never get used to how intense bucky just..stares at you. Every single moment of the day you'll just catch him watching you silently not saying a word. It wasn't creepy, no it had this protective almost darkness to it that was all consuming. At one of Tony’s parties, he’s watching you across the room with a glass in his hand or mysterious and shit. (probably thinking about when is a polite time to leave)

which is never because bucky just drags you both out of every gathering. Every goodbye is an Irish one

man bun bucky. That’s it.

lets you cut his hair when it gets to the point of covering his eyes. Sometimes his stubble too, thumb circling and grazes your thigh as you lean over him with a scalpel.

most of the team are still gobsmacked at how bucky justs..trusts you. Whether it be with a shaving, or jumping out of a corner. If any of the team tried to pull a knife on bucky he would probably (not) accidentally break their jaw

after missions all the Avengers know he’ll be offline for at least a couple days to be with you. What they don’t discuss is half of those days are fucking you bruised. He gets all pent up and irritated when he isn’t around you, it’s like you recalibrate his mood back to baseline regular bucky when he can finally sink into you.

doll, darlin’, honey

if you think steve is possessive…just exponentiate that to the power of 10 and you have husband bucky. Are we forgetting this man used to be the winter soldier? he's cute and adorable but also can be fucking horrifying. I’m talking blank face breaking a mans jaw cause he looked at you funny

very casual in his superhuman abilities to protect you. 

silky dulcet notes of etta james, the album sam had gifted you both playing as you cut up some root vegetables. It’s summer and the night is long and warm, and you and bucky are humming as you prepare dinner. You're twirling your hips, Bucky is leaning against the countertop, half trussing the chicken and the other watching you when he suddenly stops. You don't notice it at first, until he cocks his head to the side, kind of blinks and moves to turn the saucepan on low. You turn to him, and he grabs for one of the kitchen knives on the bench before reaching for you.

"there's someone in the backyard"

all nonchalant, like it had been a burrowing animal stuck under the floorboards. he motions for you to continue, turns up the record player a bit and walks into the backyard without a sound.

this man is touch starved, of course he is cock warming after. each and every time.

one of the things bucky loved about you is at ease he felt, he could talk to you and spill everything out in a way he never could with dr raynor or even steve.

there was a bit of distance from him when he first met you, he was awestruck, even more silent than he usually was. Just stared at you longingly, standing off to the side. he didn’t think he could be anything but feared, it genuinely got to the point where you thought he didn't like you or that you had done something wrong. when steve had told him this, he nearly died. no, i'd like to think he's heart stopped for a couple seconds seriously. than got up from fainting, took you aside, and kissed you against the back of sarah's backyard door on the fourth of july.

stations a few target practice posts in your backyard. teaches you how to shoot, chest pressed up against your back as he helps move your body in the right position. always make sure you know where the weapons are in the house

singing to records whilst he's cleaning said weapons at the table

takes you to all the places still standing he remembers in Brooklyn, you hold his hand and let him rest against your shoulder when the past gets caught in his throat.

Steve finds a place in the city with actual good music, where people actually dance, and it becomes your spot every Friday.

yeah, one thing bucky remembers would be his muscle memory of the dance floor, he’s goooood. Teaches you everything he knows in your kitchen of course, always ends up with you making out on top of each other though

dry humping like teenagers, bucky with his low hanging jeans, not wearing boxes and making a mess just from the taste of your mouth

actually, sometimes breaks down in tears when he realises you’re his wife. Like forever.

always thinking about you, what you're doing, if you've eaten. even if hes in the middle of recon you will be in the back of his mind.

leans over and loops his dog tags around your neck whenever he leaves for missions. kisses your eyelids when your sleeping and the fight calls him

the second time you and bucky visited Wakanda he had Shuri craft the ring to be fused into his vibranium finger..yeah I know.

bucky isn’t the extroverted talking type, but with you he is constantly just yapping..about anything and everything. Following you around the house like a puppy, coming to you for the answers about the new world and questions he always harboured even before the ice

bucky is hilarious, he's already an adonis, but he could laugh you of your pants

can’t bear fighting with you, he never yells. He just kind of goes quiet and takes a walk

you guys live in a house with a huge backyard and a wraparound porch

loves cooking, lets him turn his mind off sometimes and make you something hearty and warm. he has a frilly gingham patterned apron he wears and his curls are wrapped into a bun with your scrunchie. floor always ends up on his cheek, and you always end up on the kitchen bench with his mouth on you

night terrors had him sleeping in a sleeping bag next to the bed, he refused despite your attempts. Sometimes he'd wait till you fell asleep against him and make the heartbreaking quiet separation and sleep on the floor

sometimes likes to take of his arm around the house, especially sleeping. Keeps it near in case though, for you.

he’s thick everywhere…took an hour of foreplay minimum to get you ready for him. You both will never get used to each other, needing to take a moment of hushed gasps and groans when he first sinks in

the wedding was in Sams backyard in Delacroix, just Sam, Sarah, the kids and Yoshi and the team

fairylights wrapped around the spanish moss of hanging trees, soft jazz and hard liquor. Sarah’s seafood boil and a dance floor where bucky spends half the night with you there

dad!bucky on the other hand..now that is a different ballpark. wait no actually, just him when you're both expecting. let's not forgot when he stormed into the tower and broke through the office doors to ask why on earth tony had scheduled him a mission so close to the birth of your baby, tossing him his phone which was now crumbled heap of metal in the shape of his fists....(you were two weeks along)

[simporado]

‼️ nsfw, mdni please

self-indulgent baku being down bad for reader ^q^

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Bakugo closes his eyes to bask in the feeling. The feeling of shame? Or the feeling of his hand stroking is cock harder than he did the last time again? He's not really sure.

The thought flies away when he cums, his mind blanks at nothing but your face. His seeds splattering onto his pants and on his naked stomach. He falls down on his back, sweaty and panting. A hand goes over his eyes as he calms his breathing down.

"Fuckin' ridiculous." He huffs to himself, shaking his head as if disappointed in himself or to clear his head. He pushes his bangs out of his sweaty forehead as he gets up from his bed to go shower.

Its already almost a year since you've invaded his thoughts. and It's been about— actually he doesnt know since when he's started jerking off to the thought of you.

The first time he had ever looked at you this way was when that stupid dunce face and fuckass perverted grape tricked you and the girls into wearing that shitty cheering uniform. He thinks he probably wouldnt give a shit about those uniforms, had you not bumped straight into his chest that day along the halls, feeling left behind as all the girls had already gone out wearing those outfits.

You had looked stressed then, he remembers. He surmises its because you were wearing something different, and had none of your classmates with you.

"H-Hey, watch where you're fucking going!" He stammers a little, but makes sure to sound normal.

"A-Ah, sorry." is all you had said to him before hurriedly running out to the field to where the rest of the girls were.

He didnt know it then, but that was when he started noticing you.

It had only been stealing glances at you since then, until you had been partnered with him during no-quirk sparring.

Aizawa had you paired together that day. He huffed before getting into his fighting stance, and you did the same. You were in a ponytail, and seeing your hair up was already doing things to him, but he had to focus.

He’d lunged in first, and at the first half of your spar, he seemed to have the upper hand. Then, you started to finally hit back and dodge his advances. He noticed immediately that you were studying how he fights. And he sports a somewhat crazed smile at the realization.

Infuriated and probably turned on, he fought harder, and so did you. But alas, he still ended up winning. He had you immobilized on your stomach on the ground. His hand pinning your arms a bit painfully on your back while he straddles the back of your thighs. Your is face squished against the mat floor of the gym. You grit your teeth in pain caused by Bakugo restraining you, but its also mostly in annoyance.

"You lost, shitty nerd—" he manages to say before hearing the whistle. His hold relaxes a bit, but you struggle and kick his rear, he stumbles forward a bit. He puts his hand in front of him beside your head to break his fall, but his crotch ends up grazing against your ass.

He freezes for a millisecond then shoots up instantly and left. He lets out an audible 'tch' before immediately walking away trying to look casual, despite his reddening ears.

He sighs as he closes the shower, then steps out to dry himself and get changed.

It was around after dinner time, and he's just about ready to go to bed. He heads down to the dorm kitchen to get himself water for his room. Surpisingly, no one else was down there in the common rooms.

Or so he thought, as he almost jumps when he sees an ass sticking out in front of him on the floor. It seemed like you were trying to reach for something from under the sofa.

"The fuck are you doing?" He asks, voice gruff. He kinda hopes he doesnt sound weird. You pull back to look at him, hair tussled.

" 'Was trying to get my phone." is all you say, your lips pouting a bit.

Bakugo's eye twitches. And his cock. Your eyes flicker down for a second.

"Fuckin' move over," He says before bending down to get your phone for you.

“Ah, but you don’t have t—“ but you r protests were futile already as Bakugo lifts the couch, making sure to show off his strength and biceps (thank god he wore a sleeveless shirt tonight) your way in feigned nonchalance, and grabs your phone with the other. This doesn’t go unnoticed by you, of course.

He was about to hand you your phone, but stops in his tracks when he looks down and sees what was on your phone screen.

It's a picture of him shirtless. A bit dirty and sweaty, probably during one of his hero work.

You move immediately to snatch your phone but Bakugo's reflexes are too quick. He raises an eyebrow at you. "You took this?" he asks, smirking.

"Izuku did." you shake your head, correcting him. You cross your arms and tilt your chin downwards to glare up at him. His eyebrows only shoot up higher at the information.

"This what made you drop your phone and got your ass out trying to get it back?" He asks, the smirk on his lips growing into a grin.

You glare at him, cheeks burning. You jerk your chin towards him. "You cant say shit about me when you've got a hard on. 'That because of my ass?" You ask, eyes glaring at him but he can see mischief and lust in them.

A groan rumbles deep in his chest before stepping close to you. "So what if it is?" he growls mostly out of struggling to keep his cool. He sees you slowly smile up at him at his answer, and you’ve never looked even more gorgeous. His heart thunders aggressively against his ribcage.

"I'll meet you at your room to help you with that." is all you say then turn to head to the elevator, not before snatching your phone in his hand.

He lets out a breath he didnt know he was holding. Snapping out of his stupor, he moves quickly to get his water bottle filled before sprinting to his room like a horny lovesick fool. God, you really will be the end of him.

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a/n

proofread it a bit, but probably still scuffed. i didnt bother at first because i thought i didnt like this piece enough. i see yall want a part 2… lmao i shall try. pray that my ovulation takes over me 🙏

[animehideout]

Jujutsu kaisen men turn-ons.

Check out JJk Men Turn-Offs.

Characters: Toji Fushiguro - Gojo Satoru - Geto Suguru - Nanami Kento - Ryomen Sukuna - Ino Takuma - Choso .

Warnings ⚠️🔞 : Smut / Mature content/ please do not interact if you're under 18 ❌ !!

Notice : Ino Takuma is 21

Music suggestions 🎵 : Lloyd - All I Need.

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

Toji Fushiguro:

• When you randomly touch his chest.

• He likes the feeling of your fingers tracing his clothed or bare muscular chest.

• Your touch sends shivers down his spine.

• When he's in the mood he pulls your hand and runs it oh his skin.

• Your hands would massage his well defined ti- I mean chest.

• His eyes would be fixated on you the whole time , thinking of how he's gonna make you unable to walk for the next two weeks.

“I want you to touch me there princess”

Geto Suguru :

• When you pull his hair.

• He won't let anyone touch his beautiful, precious hair, but when it's you, oh god, each inch of him is yours.

• It's when both of you are kissing.

• You would pull his hair to escalate things.

• His head goes blank, his heart racing and his boner forming.

• He would moan into your mouth

“A-ah yes p-princess harder”

Gojo Satoru:

• When you act bossy and bratty.

• Oh damn how much he loves to put you in place.

• Likes to watch you being all confident and cocky, because he knows what's gonna happen next.

• He would take the challenge that you set.

• Just show him that side okay? , he loves it and it will guarantee a rough night.

“Gojo Satoru keep quiet or I'll smack you”

“ yes I dare you to do that babe, smack me”

• You would notice his instant bulge.

“Come on, you're hot when you're bossy”

• Proceeds to fuck the shit out of you.

Sukuna Ryomen:

• He's 24/7 horny so no need to do anything.

• But he gets super turned on when you act submissive and beg for something.

“Oh Come on Sukuna, please give me my phone”

“Beg”

“ah *sigh* pretty please? I beg you” you would say giving him puppy eyes.

“Fuck, the bed, NOW”

• He would fuck the shit out of you, till he's satisfied.

• Get ready for a long ass night.

Choso :

• When you sit on his lap.

• Would drive him carzy.

• The moment you made contact with his crotch >> Instant boner.

“ y/n what are you doing?”

“hm? nothing babes just sitting on your la-...why are you hard?”

• He would blush and panic.

“j-just stop moving okay?”

• Of course you wouldn't, it was your plan to turn him on from the beginning and it worked.

• You would move your hips a lot, shifting your position.

• He goes crazy from the intense friction.

“Fuck it” he would say and make you face him still on his lap.

“Now ride me”

Nanami Kento:

• When you massage his neck and shoulders.

• This man is a hard worker so you try to ease his tension by giving him an ' innocent ' neck massage'.

• You know it turns him on, so you do it on purpose.

• You would unbutton his shirt ' for better access' , place him between your legs and start your magic.

• You would start with his neck, slowly moving to his broad shoulders leaving butterfly kisses all over the exposed area.

• He would groan in relief and pleasure.

• Your hands would swim further on his well defined back.

• When he's overstimulated he would turn you on the bed and position himself behind you.

“You started this, Love”

Ino Takuma:

• When you wear his clothes.

• He's pretty stylish and you really like his clothes especially his sweatshirts.

• You would wear his sweatshirt only, long enough to cover your private area.

• As much as he admires you and compliments you, the moment you bend over to get something he wouldn't hesitate to tear the sweatshirt off of you.

• Leaving you with absolutely nothing.

• All for himself.

“ you look pretty in that sweatshirt but time to take it off”

[god-demons]

Minors dni-

The thing with Nanami, and god there's so many things, is he has a nasty exhibitionist streak.

No one, and you definitely did not (not at first anyway) knew how filthy he could be.

The straight laced, straight faced Nanami Kento who likes to squeeze your ass when everyone's back is turned.

Pull your tits out of your top in a quiet hallway, flicking his tongue against your nipples and sucking noisily as your eyes dart around nervously even if you start to pant open mouthed.

Seated besides you, hand resting on your bare thigh. Face blank, focusing on whatever Yaga is saying during the staff meeting even as his own fingers climb higher and higher, movement shielded by the desk.

(He had mentioned the skirt looked hot on you that morning, and you had paired it with thigh highs because goddamn seeing the way Nanami looks at your exposed skin, pupils blown wide always sends a shock of lust to your crotch.)

"You only have yourself to blame," he leans over and murmurs in your ear. And fuck, you hate how easy you make it for him because you can already feel the heat curling in your pussy from just those words.

His fingers stroke your inner thigh, so gentle and teasing it almost tickles. You shift, subtly parting your legs. Definitely making it too easy for him, and Nanami's thumb ghosts over your panties, thumb grazing your clit as you try not to jerk at the contact.

With his index and middle fingers, he rubs up and down your folds and you can feel your cunt growing wetter with each movement, your underwear now starting to get uncomfortably soaked from your arousal. His thumb is still caressing, kneading your now swollen clit. Applying even pressure as you bite down on your lip and struggle not to moan.

You know that if anyone bothered to look at you now, the red flush on your face would be a dead giveaway.

Then in one quick motion, he slips his fingers under your fabric. Dips them knuckle deep into your tight wet hole.

You taste the metallic tang of blood burst onto your tongue. You're biting your lip so hard, breaking skin, just to stop yourself from groaning.

Then that bastard, that utter bastard, has the gall to remove his hand completely. Leaving you writhing on your chair, dealing with whiplash, crimson faced and desperate for more.

Your gaze flickers down to his cock, and you see it stiff and strained and bulging.

Nanami knows what you're thinking and gives a small shake of the head without looking at you. He hasn't looked at you once through this exchange.

Still doesn't look at you (though he's acutely aware you're watching him) as he brings his fingers, glistening with your juices, up to his lips.

His tongue darts out, licks. He can't resist tasting your pussy even when he should be fully focused on his job and surrounded by other teachers in this classroom.

You watch him with wide eyes, and a whimper finally escapes your lips at how fucking hot this is.

How you know you'll pay him back for the teasing as you milk him dry later, and how he'll lose his composure and impassiveness and pleads with you to let him cum inside your cunt.

Out of the corner of your eyes, you notice Gojo twitch.

[toxicanonymity]

being bad and looking good.

2.8k, raider!Joel (dark) x f!reader | Raider Master SUMMARY: You look hot but get punished for acting up. WARNINGS: I8+ dubcon unsafe P in V, possessive Joel, creampie, manhandling, angst, joel makes you cry, rough, spanking, choking. He's a bad guy, not a kink practitioner: no rules. He cares, and you enjoy the dique, but you're captive. A/N: HYPOTHETICAL because I didn't want to figure out where to place it in the timeline. Set vaguely in the past. This is for a lingerie ask as well as readers who have requested feral/mad Joel or sweet pea being bad. @javier-penas-wifexx420 @arcanefox207 IMMERSABILITY: Reader has hair that can be held/pulled. Joel can lift reader. Reader has no height/size, so fill in the blanks for whether he has to bend his knees to enter you, etc.

Joel lets it slip how close the abandoned mall is, and you can't stop thinking about going there. You want to get something for him.  He always brings you things and you never have anything to give him other than food you've foraged and flowers for the trailer. One day, you insist it would be fine with Joel if you go to the mall. You make it sound like you've discussed it. Carter is skeptical, but he feels bad for you. He finally breaks down and agrees to take you. 

When you're there, you're walking through the mall and notice Carter's head turn all the way toward a particular storefront as you walk by. You wouldn't have noticed it otherwise. He keeps the same stride, but you slow down to look.

It's a lingerie store. Most of the mannequins are bare or have clothes hanging off them, but there are huge, fading posters with women of all shapes and sizes sporting lace teddies, babydolls, bralettes, strappy garters, and the floor is littered with them. 

Carter sighs when he realizes you've stopped at the store. 

As he slowly walks back to you, scratching the back of his neck, you ask, “Do you think Joel would like it if I had something from here?” The question feels almost rhetorical, but there's that bit of insecurity, too. 

“Uh, I dunno. Sure, I guess.” Carter doesn't seem comfortable. He agrees to let you go in for just a minute to see if you find something, but you have to stay in view. And you think you do. It's a two piece with a sheer, strappy top. The bottom is more modest than a thong, but it has a slit in the crotch that makes you clench your thighs together thinking about Joel.

—-

When you get home, you put it on in the bathroom so you can look at yourself in the mirror. You think it looks good, but it's not a full-length view. And you're not quite sure if it's fitting right. How much tit is supposed to be showing? How tight should it be? You put the flannel back on, but leave it open when you come out. You feel a little more covered than you are, since the nature of the fabric shows a lot. 

Carter's sitting at the kitchen table casually shuffling a deck of cards.  He looks at you for only a split second before his face hardens, and he abruptly looks away. “Jesus,” he drops the cards on the table, and the chair groans against the floor as he stands up. “The hell are ya doin’?” he awkwardly turns around, pulling up on his pants a little. 

“I just wanna know if it looks-”

“--'m sure it looks great,” Carter runs his hands through his hair in distress as he looks out the window.  Then, he tightly crosses his arms, and they stretch his sleeves even more. “Now get outta here,” he tells you. He rocks forward onto his toes, then back, waiting for you to leave. 

Is he mad? You step further into the kitchen and try to meet his eyes in the reflection. 

His voice is stern. “Go put some goddamn clothes on.” 

“Sorry, I wasn't–”

“Now.” He means it. You stand there stunned for a moment with your lip quivering. He's never been angry at you before. 

“NOW.” He points toward Joel's room, veins bulging on his hand and arm. He doesn't turn around to look at you, but you see the flush from his cheeks creeping onto his neck and ears.  

You go to your room and sniffle as you button the flannel. Then you put on a pair of shorts, curl up on the bed, and cry. 

–

After a few minutes, there's a soft knock on the bedroom door. “Ya’okay?” 

You only sniffle, “I'm sorry,” in response. 

Carter sighs. “I shouldn'ta snapped at ya, darlin’. But ya just – can't do that, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Shit, you're a pretty girl, okay? But it ain't my business how ya look. . .in somethin’ like that.” 

“. . .I know, I wasn't thinking.”

“Now, if you're dressed and wanna play rummy, I’ll deal. . .”

You smile to yourself through your tears. 

—--

You dry your eyes and come out to the kitchen, but something in the air is different as you pull out a chair and sit down.

“Carter, please forget it,” you plead and try to get him to look at you. It feels like you broke something.

He finally makes eye contact and forces a little smile. Then he concentrates on the cards as he deals. “Two, two, three, three,” he counts the cards out loud for each of you as he deals. He finishes, and while you're studying the hand you’re dealt, it's quiet. In the corner of your eye, Carter's gaze falls to your now fully-covered chest, but he quickly pulls his eyes away and looks straight down, fidgeting with his cards. You feel awful. What if he can’t look at you the same? It was stupid to try to show him. Of course it would look good to Joel, he likes everything on (and off) you.

______

When Joel gets home, you're in the bedroom alone, sitting on the bed in the lingerie and flannel. As he enters through the kitchen, his boots are heavy on the linoleum. Your heart races with a moment of doubt - how are you going to explain this? But he bursts in the room grumbling, “goddamn Harold, tryin’ to get us all killed.”  He takes his shirt off over his back, tosses it to the laundry, and looks at you. He pauses and devours the view for a few seconds before he slowly approaches, chest heaving.

He looms over you as you sit on the bed. He uses both hands to nudge the flannel off your shoulders, and it pools behind you. You take your arms out of it. He grabs a tit and rests his other hand on the nape of your neck, thumb brushing the curve of your skull. His chest lets out a low growl as he feels you. Then his fingers trail up the strap on one shoulder. He plucks it and it snaps against your skin.

Joel’s face darkens as he asks, “Where’d it come from?” When you don’t answer fast enough, his hand traces up your throat. A chill spreads across your chest. His thumb brushes the side of your neck, then slides over to lift your chin and make you look at him. “Where.”

“I wanted to do something you’d like.”

“Where,” he repeats, then clenches his jaw, waiting. 

“You said the mall wasn’t far, so–”

He raises his voice. “You went to the mall? Where was Carter?”

“It’s okay, he was there, even found a part for the van in the parking lot.” 

Joel’s nostrils flare, and he grips your jaw. “Carter took you to the mall.” 

Your eyes water with panic. “No, it wasn’t his idea--”

“To buy somethin’ like this.” 

“I wanted to get you something. I didn’t know they had this stuff —”

“He's got no business takin’ ya anywhere. And sure as hell not somewhere sexy.”

You're worried for Carter and grateful he’s not around. “I swore the mall was okay, that you wouldn’t mind. I didn’t know there was somewhere sexy,” your voice trails off. 

Joel shakes his head, nostrils flaring. “You don't say what's okay. You don't KNOW what's okay. Get up.” 

He forces you to your feet then turns you around.

“I thought you'd like it,” you sniffle. “You always do things for me.”

“He grabs your ass, lifting your butt cheek and lets it drop. He clicks his tongue. “well, I sure don't like how ya got it.”

“I'm sorry”

“Think ya need a reminder who's in charge here.”

“I know,” you sniffle in agreement, sensing what's coming. He sits down on the bed and manhandles you into lying face down over his knees. You feel a twinge of arousal even before he shifts your position and your hip brushes the hard shape in his jeans. 

You hold your breath as he brings his hand back, then it lands with a sting and you yelp at the force. You bury your mouth in your arm as he brings his hand back again. He repeats it on the other cheek and you let out a muffled whimper that sounds more aroused than you should be. 

“Like bein’ bad?” He asks, then spanks you again. 

“No.” 

His hand lands with a sting one more time and stays on your skin to grab the plush of your burning skin. “Ya like this?”

“. . .I dunno,” you whimper, unsure of the right answer.

He feels between your legs, his thick finger finding  a damp slit in the cotton crotch of the lacy underwear. He slips a finger inside the garment, giving you a shock of need when his knuckle nudges your dripping hole.  “Ya do, don't ya? Get up.” He grabs your arm and stands up, forcing you to your feet. He holds your hair and stares you down sternly. “This ain't for fun, baby, it's your safety” He lets go of your hair and looms closer. “Understand?”

You nod and reflexively back up. Something tells you it's not just about your safety. 

“AND Carter's. You tryin' to make me hurt’m?” He asks. Joel gets closer and you keep backing up toward the wall. 

“No,” you sob. “Please don't. He’s good, so good, he wouldn't even look at me. He respects you so much”

A new rage flashes across Joel's face and he lowers his voice. “He wouldn't . . .even . . .look at ya,” he mutters too calmly for your comfort. He takes a deep breath, looks you up and down again, puts his hand on your chest, fingers spread wide, and walks you harshly into the wall. His bare chest heaves. ”But ya gave him the chance, didn't ya,” Joel nods. You've dug your hole so much deeper. 

“I was only thinking about–” Joel’s hand comes to your neck as you croak out, “--you.” You don't know what you were thinking. Joel doesn't either. He slowly shakes his head, nostrils flaring. 

He pins you with his hips, and his hard cock digs into your front, making you gush.  

“Forget who ya belong to?”

“No,” you whimper. “I’m yours.”

He pulls his hips back and quickly unfastens his pants. You bite your lip to keep from moaning at the sight of his cock. It nudges under the bottom hem of the lingerie top to reach your body. You feel his skin hit your lower belly, and it makes you weak with desire. “Only wanna be yours.”

He kicks your feet apart to spread your legs, and he brings his lips to your hair. “Then ya do what I say. Understand?” 

“Yes sir,” you whisper, then he shoves his hand between your legs, using two fingers to spread the slit in the fabric of the crotch. 

“‘s’for your own good,” he adds. 

He nudges the slit with his cockhead. The fabric doesn’t open wide enough, so he rips the slit more, then you feel his tip at your wet little hole.  He holds his cock in line, then grabs your ass and shoves up into you all at once, bottoming out. The force makes your back and shoulders drag up the wall. With your feet now off the ground, your knees bend, cradling his hips. He holds you by your ass, adjusts your weight, and your back is against the wall. You balance your arms around his neck. His thick cock retreats then punches into you again. 

He's so thick, each time he pushes in, it feels like he’s taking up your whole body. He’s not looking at you; he’s looking past you. The grip of his fingers hurts enough to feel good, to feel his desperation, how much he has to have you–for him and only him. 

He grunts and growls and breathes heavily, stomach heaving against you. “You're mine, sweet pea.”

“I am,” you agree. 

“No one else can have ya.” His words get broken with the force of his thrusts.  “No one else can see ya.”

“I know.”

You moan as he buries his length in you roughly, and he mutters “goddamn,” tightening his grip on your ass. You’re overwhelmed by the fullness of his cock, his skin against yours, his breath in your hair, his body pinning you there. All of it makes your insides swell with mounting pleasure. 

“I love being yours,” you pant. 

He fucks you in relative silence for about two minutes, the room filled only with the sounds of his brutish grunts and unbridled sighs, your little moans and whimpers, and the squelch of his stiff cock pumping in and out of your dripping cunt.

He adjusts your weight and looks down at your body from time to time, letting your upper back rest against the wall as he rails into you. You’re reassured that he likes the fit, at least. Your legs wrap loosely around him. 

The pressure in your lower belly builds with each grunt, each thrust of his cock. Soon, his breath becomes shaky and the drag of his cock quickens. Then he bottoms out sharply with a groan, drawing a sigh from you as he begins to pulse. He thrusts into you slower, more controlled, and you rock slowly against the wall. The rhythmic swell of his shaft within your walls and the warm seed spilling from his tip make you clench around him. You moan his name, tighten your legs, and he sighs as your cunt chokes his cock. 

When his balls are empty, he slides out, and the fabric pulls with his cock as he withdraws and lets you down to the floor.

—-

Joel sighs, crams his wet cock into his pants, and fastens them again.

“You okay?” He asks, catching his breath. 

“Yeah,” you mutter. “Where are you going?”

“Gonna pay Carter a visit, down at the house.”

“Please, Joel, it was all my fault,” you beg. “Don’t do it.” 

“Ain’t gonna kill’m. This time.” You still don’t like the look on his face. 

You follow him across the room, reach for his arm, and your fingers land lightly on his inner elbow. He pauses, still without his shirt on, and looks down at your hand on his elbow. He turns around, reads your face, then goes over to the bed without a word. He sits and manspreads.  “I was desperate to make you happy,” you plead, fidgeting with the hem of your top.

Joel scrunches his face. “Ya do make me happy, sweet pea.”

“He didn't even wanna take me,” you insist.

“Then he’s gotta learn to say no.” 

You hesitantly come closer, unsure if he’ll turn you away, but he lets you between his legs, then you sit on his thigh and keep fidgeting with the hem of your top. 

“He says no all the time,” you assure Joel. 

“Does he,” Joel mutters skeptically.

“I made it like he would've been saying no to you.” 

Joel shakes his head, looking at your mouth. “That ain't right, but he knows better, baby.” 

“He yelled at me,” you offer, hoping it doesn't make things worse.

Joel's brow furrows and his tone sharpens. “Ya gotta stop lyin’, now. It's pissin’ me off.”

“I'm not! He was mad.”

“Oh yeah? What'd he yell?” 

“Told me to go away and put on some clothes.” 

Joel’s chin lifts to look at the ceiling and he takes a deep breath, then looks at you. “What the hell got into ya, huh?”

“I dunno,” you mumble. “Feel like I'm going crazy, stuck here all day.” Joel looks at you. “But you take good care of me,” you clarify, “and I love it here.” 

But that’s not what Joel’s thinking about. 

“Wanna fuck him? Suck his dick?”

“No!” You're on the verge of tears again. “God, Joel, please don't talk like that.” Your face is scrunched up in pain. 

“Then don't act like it.”

“I was–okay, I get it.”

Joel is quiet for a few seconds, then asks, “What if I told ya to suck his dick?” 

“No!”

“You'd say no to me?” 

“I’d ask if I really have to.” 

Joel's face slowly softens, like you found the only acceptable answer. “And why’s that?”

“Cause I only want yours.” 

“Hm,” Joel nods. 

“Please, Joel. Stay here, don't go to him. . .you can talk to him tomorrow.”

You put your arms around Joel's neck and study his pensive face. Then you bury your head in his neck and whisper “Sorry.”  His hand slowly comes to your back. You dip your head and lightly brush your lips against his collar bone, then return your face under his jaw, and he nestles his head over yours. Your wet lashes blink against his skin, and his hand slowly slides on your back. Somehow, it feels like more comfort than you deserve. 

“Ok, baby,” he whispers and wraps both arms around you.

----------

if you wanna know whether Carter sees sweet pea that way, check out he's only human.

----------

Their present-day story will continue, but I don't have an ETA, sorry. Unless the next one gets split up, it'll have fluff, two moods of smut, angst.

I appreciate all your comments that let me know what you enjoy and what curiosities you have. Thank you so much for reading, and thanks for your support. Love you all.

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[thriftedtchotchkes]

take all of me

pairing: josh futturman x f!reader

summary: when a messy time jump leaves josh with a brand new body part, the only person he wants to show is you

warnings: 18+ MDNI, roommate!reader, friends to lovers, dick swap, smut, handjob, f!masturbation, unprotected piv, rough/painful sex, size kink, mild body insecurity, comfort

words: 4k

@tinycozycomfort this one's for you pookie <3

“You have to see this.”

The front door slams, and then your roommate waddles into the living room looking so excited, you'd think he just won the lottery. You laugh at his dramatic entrance after the initial shock subsides, not bothering to pause the TV behind him.

Josh bursting into rooms at random happens more often than it probably should, usually to announce a breakthrough in his game or gossip he heard at work. But as you wait for him to share his big news, you notice there's something off about him.

He's jittery as hell and standing awkwardly like he really has to use the bathroom. His legs are spread a little too far apart, and his hands are clasped tightly in front of his crotch like he's either protecting himself or hiding something. You're pretty sure he was out doing resistance stuff all day—and that's when it hits you.

Whatever he's itching to tell you has Tiger and Wolf written all over it, and that can't be good. Your smile drops and you raise an eyebrow expectantly, silently demanding an explanation, but he just continues to stand there with that goofy look on his face.

So, he's going to make you ask. Dumbass.

"Uh, you gonna show me or are you gonna keep blocking the TV?" you ask bluntly. He grins brightly at your interest, and your expression softens.

"Both. You're not gonna believe this," he says, suddenly fumbling with his belt and unzipping his pants. Before you can object or react at all, he tugs down his jeans and boxers in one fell swoop.

Your jaw drops. "What the fuck is that?"

He's right. You can't believe it. The monstrosity hanging between his legs definitely wasn't there when he left the house, or at the very least, it didn't look anything like that last time you saw it. Not that he walks around the apartment with his dick out, but living together, you see each other naked now and then, and that's...new.

"How the hell—did you get a penis enlargement or something?" you openly gawk, trying to wrap your head around what he's showing you. Josh's dick is massive, almost too big to fit his body.

Huffing out an awkward laugh, he moves to cover himself again, likely embarrassed by your reaction. You immediately feel terrible. You didn't mean to make him feel bad. There's just no way you could've seen that coming.

"The TTD is sort of...broken," he explains timidly. "The last time we jumped, it swapped a few body parts between the three of us. A couple toes, a finger—"

"A dick? That's Wolf's dick? Holy shit."

He nods excitedly, perking back up. "I know, right? It's crazy. One second, we're in James fucking Cameron's house and everything's going haywire, and then we're back in 2017, and suddenly my pants don't fit. How does he even walk around with this thing?"

You scooch forward on the couch to get a better look, oddly captivated. "I think you're about to find out since it's yours now."

Abruptly, his face goes blank like he's just realizing he might be stuck with Wolf's dick forever. You can't tell if he's happy about the prospect or worried, but you're starting to feel a little conflicted yourself.

Feelings you're usually able to ignore are bubbling to the surface, and it's getting harder to remind yourself that the dick currently making your mouth water is attached to your roommate. Curiosity gets the better of you, and before you can stop yourself, you ask a question you really shouldn't.

"Can I touch it?"

"What? You want to...what?" he sputters, taken off-guard. The tips of his ears burn bright red, and his mouth opens and closes repeatedly like he wants to say something. Ultimately, he gives up.

After the whole show-and-tell thing, you're a little surprised he's getting shy again, but the last thing you want to do is make him uncomfortable. It's a line you haven't crossed with each other. You decide to backtrack, hoping you haven't overstepped the boundaries of your friendship.

“Obviously, not if you don’t want me to. No pressure at all, I was just curious," you rush to reassure him. But when you glance down, you notice he's subtly grinding into the heel of his hand, already half-hard and giving away exactly how he feels about your request.

"I-I mean, yeah, totally. Go right ahead," he consents casually, but he doesn’t sound nearly as nonchalant as he thinks. You give him a playful smile, reaching out and grabbing a handful of his shirt to tug him closer, and he awkwardly shuffles forward until he's between your legs.

He watches you nervously, fidgeting as you trace a prominent vein that snakes from the base to the tip. A soft, needy sound from above you encourages you to continue your path up to toy under the ridge with your thumb, and when his cock twitches in interest, you peer up to gauge his reaction.

The sight alone makes you wet. His eyes are glassy and unfocused, and that flush that began at the tips of his ears has spread to his cheeks and down his neck. He's already gnawing on his bottom lip in anticipation, waiting to see what you'll do next.

Eagerly, you wrap your fingers around him the best you can and give him an experimental tug. He chokes out a groan, and it sends another wave of heat through your body.

"Is it sensitive?" you ask soothingly, taking it slow with a few loose strokes.

"Yeah," he breathes out. You pump him again, a little tighter this time.

"More sensitive than the other one?"

He nods, swallowing harshly. "Yeah."

"Want me to keep going?"

"Please."

Bracing a hand on his stomach, you push his shirt up for better access and pump him faster, marveling at how quickly he starts to leak onto your fingers. You tease the head with your palm, spreading precum down his length to ease the slide, but he doesn't melt into your touch like you expect him to. Instead, he tenses up, fighting to keep still.

"Hey," you duck down and kiss his hip to get his attention. "Don't overthink it. Just let me take care of you, okay?"

He nods again, panting as his head falls back and his eyes flutter closed, trying to relax his body like you told him to. His hips rock forward, steadily establishing a rhythm until he's a whimpering mess and all but fucking into your fist.

He's a lot louder than you expected. Your room is right next to his, so you know what he sounds like when he's jerking off, but this is on another level. And he looks wrecked.

Sweat dampens his forehead, curling the soft baby hairs at his temples, and his volume increases, easily drowning out the ambient music of the movie still playing in the background. It's turning you on way more than you'd like to admit, your underwear sticking to you so badly, it's getting impossible to ignore. As if on cue, he whines your name in search of more friction, and you realize you can't anymore.

Desperate for relief, you slip a hand past the waistband of your sweatpants and dip two fingers into your aching cunt, fucking yourself for a few blissful moments before trailing back up to rub your clit. It's not nearly enough, but there's no way you're asking Josh for help.

You're roommates, not fuck buddies—or so you tell yourself, even though you know it's a load of bullshit. Even though you know he'd say yes in a heartbeat.

While you continue to jerk him off, he buries his hand in your hair to ground himself, mumbling under his breath as his fingers tense and untense between the strands.

"Fuck, that feels so good," he sighs, his head lolling forward so he can watch you work him. But then, he catches sight of you playing with yourself, and he seizes up, jerking violently in your grasp. "Are you...? Shit—"

Before he can accidentally teeter over the edge, you squeeze the base of his cock and cut him off with another offer you really shouldn't be making. You must be out of your fucking mind. It's Josh. But he's so hard, and you feel so empty. You'll worry about the consequences later.

"I know something that feels even better."

His eyes fly back to yours, darting between them like he's waiting for you to elaborate or take it back. But you don't do either. Instead, you release his cock to shirk your sweats and underwear. Spinning around, you brace your hands on the back of the couch and stick out your ass—an invitation.

"Only if you want to," you continue.

Oh, does he ever. He stumbles forward in a daze, holding your waist with one hand while he slaps his cock on your ass with the other. He feels hot and heavy on your skin, and your mouth starts to water again.

"You're sure about this?" he asks hesitantly, even as he grabs a handful of your ass and spreads you open.

"Touch me, and then ask again if I'm sure," you reply over your shoulder, knowing it won't take more than that to convince him.

He looks hesitant to do that too, but concedes when you wiggle against his crotch. Cautiously, his hand disappears between your legs, and the moment he feels it, all of the air leaves his lungs.

"You're so wet," he mumbles to himself in awe, grinding his palm into your messy heat. Without warning, he dips a thick finger inside you and pumps it a few times before adding another one. "And tight, oh my god."

You push into him, thankful to finally have something inside you, but you want to be full. The weight of him so close to where you need him is slowly driving you crazy. You're tired of waiting.

"Josh, just fuck me. Trust me, I want it," you whine, sounding as desperate and needy as you feel.

His fingers slip out of you, and then you hear a wet noise like he's sucking them clean. Jesus Christ. You force yourself not to think about how much you want him to eat you out if this ever happens again.

He shifts behind you, muttering what sounds like a pep talk under his breath before he inhales deeply and lines himself up.

"Fuck, is it even gonna fit?" he asks incredulously, nudging your entrance. The question was probably rhetorical, but you answer it anyway.

"Make it fit."

His body reacts before his brain can catch up. There's a pained groan behind you, and then his hips jolt forward of their own accord, burying nearly half of his cock inside you. He manages to stop himself after a few jerky, shallow thrusts, but your walls are already squeezing him, and you can tell he's struggling not to cum on the spot.

And you're struggling not to scream. The stretch is mind-numbing, and the longer he stays still, the more intense it gets. Your nails dig into the couch while you fight to adjust, dangerously close to puncturing the cushions, and you've only taken half of him.

You want all of him. Just the thought makes you gush, and that sets Josh off even worse. He whines at the sensation, holding onto your waist for dear life.

"I need you to move," you finally manage to gasp out. "I need you to move right now."

"Shit, okay. Move...right, I can do that," he says quietly to himself, on the verge of another pep talk. His hands trail up and down your sides soothingly, but it feels like it's for his benefit, not yours.

"Josh," you all but growl, forcing yourself backward to steal another inch. That snaps him out of it.

"Hachi machi," he mumbles dumbly, his fingers digging into your skin hard enough to bruise. You'd tease him for it if you didn't think he'd stop again, but it turns out he's as desperate as you are. "Do that again."

You do as you're told. Using the back of the couch as leverage, you tug yourself forward, then force him even deeper. He curses loudly, slackening his grip on your waist, and you get the message loud and clear.

"Again," he grits out. "Please don't fucking stop."

"Not on your life," you reply, more than happy to give him whatever he wants.

Taking over, you work yourself onto his cock inch by inch, gritting your teeth at the onslaught of pleasure and pain. It feels so good, it's making you dizzy. When his hips finally connect with yours, your eyes roll back and your jaw drops.

You're so fucking full. Part of you just wants to keep him there, so unbelievably turned on by being split open like this. But you also want to be railed into this couch within an inch of your life, and that part wins out.

It doesn't take long for Josh to get sick of not being an active participant. Spreading you open, he guides you roughly by the ass—a punishing repetition where he pulls out to the tip, then rams back in, careful not to plunge too deep and hurt you.

You fall into a rhythm, fucking faster and harder until you're positive he's officially ruined you for all other men. You can actually hear how wet you've gotten, and as the sound fills the room, his thumb begins to trace your entrance.

"Wish you could see this. You're fucking...creaming on me right now," he mutters in disbelief, smearing it across your skin. "How are you so wet?"

"B-because you're huge—the fuck else would it be?" you joke breathily, but it comes out as a stuttered mess.

Of course, you'd still be bantering back and forth while he's balls deep. Leave it to you and Josh to moan snarky comments at each other like it's pillow talk. He tries to retort, but then accidentally hits something spongy inside you that makes your cunt clench, and you cut him off with a sob.

"I knew you'd sound pretty," he admits, grinding into that spot to see if you'll do it again. And you do—you can't help yourself. "Might have to keep Wolf's dick if you're gonna sound like that every time I fuck you with it."

Holy shit. What happened to your sweet golden retriever roommate? This can't be the same guy who invites you over to his parents' house for Friday night dinners and seeks you out for comfort after his game kicks his ass one too many times.

That guy never struck you as the type to fuck you so good, you forget how to speak. Or the type to say shit like that. You manage to find your voice, wondering if there are more sides to Josh you don't know about.

"I sound even prettier when I'm cumming," you goad him. You're already so close, and you both know it. Especially with the new knowledge that whenever you hear him jerking off, he's thinking about you. You think about him, too. "But not as pretty as you."

And he almost proves you right, then and there. But to your disappointment, he freezes up, exhaling shakily behind you. If his heavy panting is any indication, he had no idea you were listening in the next room, let alone that you liked it. You don't give him a chance to catch his breath before you go in for the kill.

"You should cum inside me. I'd love to hear what that sounds like," you tell him, peering over your shoulder to see his face. But his eyes are already squeezed shut, and he looks like he's either about to cry or burst. Maybe both.

"O-Oh...fuck—"

Just as you're about to pick up where he left off, his hips jolt forward again, pushing him deeper than you were prepared for. The shock combined with the low whine still vibrating in his chest sends you reeling.

"Fucking ow. Be careful with that thing, Futturman," you gasp as your legs threaten to give out, but it tapers into a moan. God, even the pain feels so good. His arms encircle your waist to keep you from falling.

"S-sorry, I just...what?" he chokes out, and it's so high-pitched, you almost miss it.

"I'm on the pill, just—"

He slaps a hand over your mouth, and you shoot him a pleading look.

"Shit, don't—I heard you, don't say it again. Unless you want me to cum literally right now," he says frantically.

"Do it," you all but beg.

His face screws up, looking conflicted like he's doing everything in his power not to. But then your entire body is thrown forward, and he's finally fucking you the way you need him to.

The dull, syrupy ache from earlier ebbs into heady pleasure that sends you hurtling towards your peak, making your head spin and your walls flutter around him. You quickly forget about chastising or teasing him, and once he finds that perfect spot again, you forget everything else, too.

Josh isn't doing much better. He's devolving into a whimpering mess again, his movements messy and uncoordinated like he's about to lose it, and you're not far behind. You try to warn him between rough thrusts, but by the time you pull yourself together enough to speak, it's already too late.

"Josh, I'm...fucking cumming—fuck, I'm cumming," you sob, and your legs actually give out this time. You clamp down like a vice, gushing around him as your orgasm slams into you, wave after wave. It's intense and overwhelming, and god, you feel so fucking full.

You're too blissed out to realize how hard you're squeezing him or how hard he's fucking you through it, but it doesn't take long for him to steal back your attention.

"Holy shit, that's tight. Oh my fucking god, you're gonna make me—" He lets out something breathy and desperate, and you were right. He sounds so pretty when he cums.

Instead of catching you as you crumble, he yanks you up, holding you flush against his chest while he empties into you as deep as your cunt will take him. His hand splays across your stomach so he can feel himself moving inside you, and the other cups your cheek, tilting your head towards his. Then, his lips are on yours.

Your first kiss with Josh is awkward and messy, a heated exchange of breath more than anything else, but it's still perfect. Because it's him. He tastes vaguely like apple juice, sweet and a little tart, and it spreads across your tongue as the kiss deepens. He moans into your mouth, trembling as his hips slow and your aftershocks wring out the remainder of his orgasm.

For a while, you stay like that, letting Josh hold you and kiss you insistently, then sweetly once you've both come down from your highs. He doesn't part from you until his cock softens and slips out, and even then, he only pulls back far enough to turn you around and rest his forehead on yours.

"That was...," he trails off, his long eyelashes fluttering as he processes everything you just did together. Your eyes meet his, and you get lost in soft hazel, anxiously waiting for him to continue.

"You're incredible," he finishes, gazing at you almost reverently. You're flooded with relief, unable to stop the huge smile that spreads across your face. And you don't want to.

He kisses you again, and you melt into each other, slowly sinking onto the couch. This time, there's no heat or desperation. You're just enjoying the newness, exploring what already feels so comfortable and familiar.

Without breaking your kiss, he wraps his arms around you and pulls you onto his lap. His release begins to leak out of you, smearing across his thighs, and the sensation brings you back to the present. You can tell he's reluctant to pull away, but when he finally does, he looks nervous—maybe even a little insecure.

"Talk to me," you say softly, cupping his cheek and thumbing across the stubble on his jaw. He sighs, averting his gaze as he leans into your touch.

"I'm just...I don't know," he starts, and you can tell that whatever it is, he does know. He's just scared to say it. You let him work up to it at his own pace, and after a long pause, he continues. "Would any of this have happened if the TTD hadn't swapped my dick with Wolf's?"

Ouch. You had a feeling this conversation was coming. These are the consequences you knew you'd have to face eventually, but you never expected him to believe you were so shallow.

You school your expression before responding, trying to ignore how much it hurts that he could think so little of you.

"Yeah, I think it would've. It might've taken a little longer, but we would've gotten our shit together eventually. The TTD stuff just sort of...sped things up," you tell him honestly. "Maybe this wasn't obvious before, but I clearly like you, new dick or not. Most of the shit we do isn't even remotely platonic, and I'd never do that with another roommate, let alone fuck them. I thought you knew me better than that."

"I did—I do. I'm sorry, of course I know that. Things are just happening really fast, and it feels like everything's changing—you and me, my body, the future," he says, exhaustion creeping into his voice. "I like you so fucking much. I just needed to know you didn't sleep with me after all this time because my dick got bigger."

His words sink in, and your expression softens. He looks more vulnerable than you've ever seen him. You hold his gaze for a moment, then lean in to kiss him, draping your arms over his shoulders to pull him close as your lips move purposefully against his. Separating, you meet his eyes again.

"Josh, I could care less about superficial shit like that. It could literally fall off right now, and it still wouldn't matter as long as you and I are okay," you respond, hoping he believes you this time. "And for the record, I wanted to sit on your dick, too. I just never got the chance."

He huffs out a laugh, relief radiating off of him in waves. "Have I mentioned that I really like you?"

"Oh, I know," you grin, wiggling in his lap to ease the remaining tension. "I think you forget our beds share a wall. I've had to listen to you jerk off almost every day for over a year, and I don't know if you realize this, but you say my name. A lot."

He smiles sheepishly, his cheeks turning pink. "Jesus, okay. Point made."

The two of you quickly slip back into easy banter, and it feels good. You're still the same roommates who annoy the hell out of each other, but everything's out in the open. Now, you can actually act on all of the offhandedly dirty shit you always say to make him blush.

"I never said I didn't like it," you laugh, biting your lip. "Maybe I can help next time."

That catches him off-guard, and he accidentally swallows wrong. "Uh, yeah," he clears his throat, trying and failing again to sound nonchalant. "I'd be down for that."

"Can I put it in my mouth?" you ask innocently, and he winces, tipping his head back onto the couch. His hands slide up your thighs and squeeze, tugging you closer to his crotch.

"I'm gonna get hard again if you keep going," he whines, even though he's already halfway there.

"Not really seeing an issue here."

Threading your fingers through his hair, you guide him back to your lips and kiss him messily, still in disbelief that it took a time travel disaster to finally get you to this point.

You'll have to thank Wolf for his noble sacrifice later.

thanks for reading!

divider by @saradika-graphics

[redr0sewrites]

HI YEAH I AM BEGGING YOU TO ELABORATE ON THOSE TWO THINGS FROM THE SUB VOX HEADCANONS⁉️⁉️

RAHH OFC!!! IM ELABORATING ON THE DRY HUMPING HERE LMAO THE SOUNDING IS LINKED HERE FOR ALL OF YALL TO ENJOY AJSJ

🥀Cw: smut, sub!vox, dry humping, pillow humping, thigh riding, little bit of somno

🥀minors dni

when it comes to dry humping, vox gets SOOO humiliated

he gen enjoys it more than actual sex, theres just something so achingly desperate about grinding against someone, too impatient to even take off your clothes

vox is soooo sensitive, but he would rather die (again) then admit that

he can't even sit on your lap without squirming, he just can't stay still, not with the "accidental" pressure you're applying to his already hard cock

he would probably try to subtly (not subtly) bring it up in a conversation once, he thinks hes soooo slick about it but in reality you can see right through his bravado

when you pull vox onto your lap to make out he audibly whines, his legs wrap perfectly around your waist and his hips r already squirming as you kiss him stupid

hes practically a bitch in heat when you both r grinding against eachother, after a long day all he wants is to he put in his place and fucked out of his mind, and loves battling for dominance while humping against you likes hes in heat

its pathetic really

sometimes he'll glitch out and truly be unable to stop himself, his mind is just so pathetically blank and fuzzy that he just can't help it, his body has a mind of its own as he ruts against you in a frenzy, small, plessurable sparks spreading across your skin

sometimes you'll come into his office while hes working and straddle him, he gets a hard on in seconds and can't help but buck his hips up against yours while he shields his face in shame

vox has a wild imagination, i mean, he has access to the entire internet at any given time, IMAGINE how filthy his wet dreams are

he def humps you in his sleep, whimpering your name and grinding down against you

he has the sweetest little unfiltered whines when hes sleeping, and more often than not will come in his pants just from rutting against you

vox def likes riding your thigh while working too, you can't help but tease him and start bouncing your knee as his claws dig into the desk, his mind going absolutely fuzzy from pleasure as he desperately tries to stay composed

he gets off on how humiliating and humbling the position is, the fact that one of hell's strongest overlords is grinding on his partner's thigh in a semi-public place where anyone could walk in? it only turns him on more

vox's preferred form of masturbation is humping something, you can't tell me otherwise

sometimes he'll be laying in bed, missing the warmth of your body, and he can already feel himself going painfully hard and horny. vox can't even get off on his own without you, its just so pathetic but his hand never feels like yours and no sex toy could imitate your perfect hole. so, vox opts for hugging the nearest pillow to his chest, slowly dragging it down to his crotch, not even bothering to remove his clothes as he drags his hips against the material. vox'll moan you name, the movements of his hips growing more sporadic as his head clouds over with pleasure until hes fully straddling the pillow, grinding down against it and panting as he cums in his pants. he's exhausted, yet he finds himself still impossibly hard, unable to stop desperately humping the pillow below him like a bitch in heat while thoughts of you swirl in his fuzzy mind.

he has the most delicious, fucked-out look on his face as he grinds deliriously for what feels like hours, until his body finally gives up and collapses, the pillow still clamped between his legs as he takes deep, shuddering breaths as his lust begins to calm down

what if i wrote a full fic about reader walking in on vox humping a pillow, and instead of helping him, forces him to continue and just gets off while watching him struggle.... haha.... jk.... unlesss....

in will prob make this into a scenario later heheee i love putting this man in situations

[worstghost]

nsfw LOGAN thoughts because I saw deadpool and wolverine and it's all I can think about 🫶🫶🫶

f!reader, a little pinch of dark!Logan, this is all over the place my bad

♡You're obviously significantly younger than Logan- and he kinda loves it. Loves the idea of a little corruption, starring in a few of your 'firsts'.

♡Teaching you how to ride him, letting you get your rhythm, it's cute, but the soft creak of the bed while you shyly rock your hips on top of him isn't enough. You're flustered, embarrassed that you haven't done this before, trying so hard to get a reaction out of him while he holds your hips and looks up at you. If you look sad enough and ask sweetly enough, he'll brace himself against the bed and tell you to hold tight, encouraging you to lean back against his bent knees while he takes over. This is what he wanted of course, he loves when you let him give you what you so desperately want but can't get.

♡He has you holding on for dear life by the end of your orgasm, digging your nails into his shoulders, gasping when he catches one of your bouncing tits between his lips and sucks. You gush against him, legs quivering from being stuck in one position, and you beg him to finish inside you. He can't deny you, flushing hot listening to you whine-

'Please, please, Logan, oh please...'

♡He should make you beg more, fuck you into the bed until you're sobbing, begging him to fill you up, crying for him to just give it to you- his mind blanks as he comes, lifting you with his own hips in a few brutal strokes as his hands shred the bedsheets around him in place of your soft skin.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

♡You're on your knees on a pillow, eye level with his half hard dick and it's too late to back out now- you've given a blow job before, you assure him, this isn't new. But the size... the need to impress him is. You swallow hard avoiding his eyes as you trail fingers up his hips, watching his stomach flex. He's smiling at you, nicer than usual, and reaches a hand out to cup your chin, squeezing your mouth open by your cheeks.

'You can do it, baby. I know you can.'

♡You nod along and allow him to hook a finger into your lips and open you wider, sliding the tip against your tongue. If you weren't already drooling, the feeling of him hardening in your mouth helps it along. Every little huff and grunt you get from him swells in your chest and you can't help but feel proud, taking him deeper until he touches the back of your throat. You swallow around him, squeezing a tear from your eye as you adjust. That gets him- he groans and you feel it reverberate through your body as he swipes the wetness from your cheeks. You learn a lot that night- about sucking dick and about what he likes.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

♡He couldn't help himself, the second you're back from dinner he has you against the apartment door, pushing your little sundress up and sinking to his knees in front of you.

♡You had teased him the whole night, subtly pressing your little wedged heels against his thigh, then his crotch under the table- making conversation with Vanessa and Wade like you weren't such a tease. That's what he called you, pressing his nose against the seam of your panties and inhaling- holding you against the door by your thigh swung over his shoulder.

'Fucking tease- bet you won't do it again after this...'

♡You definitely will.

♡Your legs are shaking, trying to cover your mouth and the sounds coming out of it in case your neighbors wanted to be nosy. Logan didn't even bother to undress you, shoving your panties to the side and pressing two thick fingers inside while he tongues your clit. You had him so riled up, smelling you the whole night, catching your glances- in public. The thought makes him groan and he needs to taste more.

♡He grips your thighs and lifts you with him as you yelp and wrap your arms around his head- accidentally giving him access to your throat which he greedily sucks and bites at before tossing you on the couch.

♡You didn't know you could fold this way, he has you nearly bent in half, tight grip on one ankle and the other knee, devouring you like he'll never get another chance- your underwear long shredded by now. You whimper against your hand, squeezing his fingers so tight if he wasn't made of metal you're sure they'd snap. You're so close, chanting his name, you can feel the build up in your belly-

♡And he stops- with incredible restraint only a man of his age could muster, he stops, gently dropping your legs and wiping his chin, watching you. You sob, legs falling open as he just smiles at you, all pretty and innocent.

♡He gets up and starts moving toward the bedroom, unbuttoning his worn flannel as he goes, waiting for you to uncover your face and beg just the way he likes. Logan can't say no to you, but he can definitely hold out a little.

[celestialprincesse]

✨blurb/imagine request✨

i hardly ever see any plus sized reader x 141 men (specifically simon / könig / price) fics, blurbs, or even imagines. If you’re interested i’d love to see what you’d do with it! 💕

(nsfw is more than okay🤭)

Of course I can! I def think Simon looves having a girl w/ some curves! Smt about the softness and femininity of it all drives him feral.

Warnings: afab reader, nsfw (was feeling slutty today 😃)

Simon loves the way you look when you're baking. Loves the way you bop about the kitchen to the quiet sound of your playlist, swaying your hips to the beat of every song. You get in the zone, and he gets a show that has his dick getting hard in his pants.

He'd no idea what you were concocting today. Something French by the sound of it. Admittedly, he cared more about the way the plush flesh of your ass jiggled as you leant over the counter to roll out the pastry than whatever fancy dessert you'd come up with today. The sight of you vaguely reminds him of a painting he'd seen in secondary school once. Something about Venus. To him you're so much more though - you're Venus and Saturn, Mars and Jupiter. You are his entire universe.

There's something about the softness and warmth of you that drives him insane. Of course, he thinks that lots of women are beautiful, muscular, slim, tall or small. There's something about you, though, something about every soft dip and curve of your body. You're the picture of health, soft with every hearty, home cooked meal and sweet dessert made and perfected with hours of practise, concentration and love.

When the already short material of your skirt rides up? He's a goner. Thick arms looping around your waist have you giggling, leaning your head back into the crook of Simon's neck, inhaling the residual scent of yesterday's cologne and that deliciously clean, post shower smell. "What y'making?" Soft muscle and warm skin reverberate against your back as he speaks low in your ear, peppering kisses down the column of your neck whilst his hands find their way up your shirt. The way your back arches against him, pressing your ass into his crotch as he grabs a handful of your tits and squeezes softly, he's convinced there's no better feeling in the world. "Mille Feuille." You mumble breathily back as Simon nudges your lower back so that you're leaning a little further over the counter, leaving prints of your boobs in the flour you'd sprinkled on the counter so your dough didn't get sticky. "Mille Feuille." He rumbles back, lips brushing your ear as his free hand travels down your stomach, between the soft warmth of your thighs, thumb brushing teasingly over your panties.

You inadvertently clench your thighs around Simon's hand, body stuck between whether or not it likes the intrusion, and from the wet lace of your panties, you're pretty sure it's trying to keep him there. The audible squelch of your panties when Simon pushes his middle and ring finger up against your folds has you blushing, trying to escape where he's got you pinned at the hips over the counter, only receiving a tsk from Simon as he ruts his cock against your ass. "Bend over proper for me baby, yeah?" He coos, gently pushing you down by the back of your neck so that your cheek presses against the cool marble of the countertop. "Tha's it. So, so pretty f'me. So good, yeah?" Is what accompanies the back of your skirt being flipped up, your ruined underwear pushed dismissively to the side.

A whimper gets lost amongst the sound of Simon's belt being unbuckled, with one hand at that, seeing as the other is running his fingers through your folds, collecting the glossy slick that's already leaking from your hole. The way your pussy flutters around nothing just from the thought of his actions behind you is shameful, but Simon likes it. When Simon's cock juts carefully between your thighs, his hips bumping against your ass, you go completely blank, a fucked out look on your face without him even having gone inside yet. "You like that baby? Yeah?" His tone has you nodding dumbly, your hand not supporting your head coming to rub impatiently at your clit, mewling softly as you buck your hips up against him. "So needy f'me already." Accompanies the sound of a breathless moan, like you've had all the air punched out of you when Simon notches the weeping head of his cock up into you. The angle has you gasping, hands gripping at the unyielding counter as you attempt to steady yourself against his gradually roughening thrusts. "Fuck, Si." You cry out as his dick pushes against your cervix, his dark gaze probing, fiercely intense as you pant and whine. "Thaaaats it." Is groaned gently into your ear as you take the entirety of his length with a weak cry.

Simon's pace is punishing, more so that he can watch the way your ass jiggles with every hard snap of his hips than because he means anything by it. The way you whine and mewl is only an added extra. He knows when you're about to cum, by the way you grow breathless, eyes rolling back and pussy practically sucking his cock up, greedy thing. With a few last thrusts, and a slap of your butt for good measure, you keen out, Simon's own eyes rolling back when he feels the warm wash of your cum around his cock. It doest take long for him to ride out his own orgasm, pressing his chest down against your back, his head into the crook of your neck as he spurts thick, hot cum right up into the plug of your womb.

˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖

Not proof read at all !! Trying to get a lil better at writing smut 🫠 N e ways!! Enjoy!!

[hyperballart]

Hello there (you're one of my favourite writers on here oml ❤️)

Patrick and Art heard that boxers and MMA fighters abstain from sex before a match because the build up of testosterone gives them a competitive edge...so they decide to abstain from girls, each other and even jerking off before a tournament...

How do you think it would go?

omg hi friend!!! thank you so so much it means a lot 😭😭🫶🫶🫶 sorry this is late but…

i feel like art would be stricter with it — not letting himself get any for weeks before an important doubles match with patrick. he advises his friend to follow along even though he knows he thinks he absolutely won’t, he mocks art for being so uptight, “you know that shit’s a myth right? or are you making up excuses cause you’re not getting laid?”

still, as a way to prove art wrong, he decides to involve himself into this ‘futile’ practice. he’s a bit careless with it as he is with most things — meaning he’ll sneak in a jerk off session once a week, and to him that’s technically full abstinence — and he honestly feels like he’s going crazy.

art is up before the sun begins to peek to go through his absurdly extensive workouts and he forces patrick to join because in his words, i want my partner to be on his best game. patrick allows himself to be bossed around by art because he secretly likes being put in his place by him. he’s giving patrick a strict diet to follow and showing him stretches. the latter has become a bit difficult as of recently.

the brunette lies down on a mat while art corrects his form, “dude you need to stretch them out more, you’re fucking stiff,” he holds his legs further to his chest, “see, there you go.”

he begins to grow stiffer somwhere else at that tone. patrick blames the lack of sex for the blood rushing to his cock and he tries playing it off, “you fold all your girls up like this, donaldson?” art scoffs and drops his legs, heading towards the treadmill, “fuck off.” he tries to burn the image of his friend bulge from his memory.

it’s weeks of this; constant training and tension, until the day of their tournament. they play flawlessly, laying out their chemistry and coordination on the court — they easily earn victory. by tradition patrick jumps in art’s arms and he presses a sloppy kiss on his forehead, “finally.”

after numerous pictures and handshakes they head back to their dorm with an unsettling silence. the second art turns the knob he is being slammed, “did you have your fun bossing me around?” art gasps at patrick’s grip on his shoulders against the shut door, the latter just laughs.

he gets in his face, “i was good. i ate all the nasty greens and eggs you shoved down my throat,” art’s eyes are honing in on patrick’s mouth at such a close proximity, “woke up on your schedule. didn’t even fuck, haven’t touched my dick — wasn’t i a good boy artie?” art nods dumbly.

“then that means i get rewarded, with whatever i want,” art nods again — he doesn’t even know what he’s agreeing to. patrick smashes his lips against his. it’s uncoordinated unlike their behavior on the courts — both of their minds blank and cocks tenting their little atletic shorts.

patrick drags art as he takes a seat on the bed and pushes him to his knees in front of him, “haven’t gotten head in ages, and it’s your fault — so get to it.” art looks up in shock and arousal, and he obeys. when he’s tugging at patrick’s waistband he is stopped, “not so fast.”

patrick grips that golden head of curls and shoves it on his crotch. art moans, “oh fuck,” and mouths over the fabric as much as he can, “i’m sorry for being so strict, i wanted to hel— hmpph,” patrick shuts him up by pressing him closer.

the brunette coos at how his friend is nuzzling against his cock through the restriction, “shit, art, i’m so fucking hard. it hurts.” art whines and suctions right where he can see the outline of his balls, breathing in all the musk and sweat like it’s his last breath of air. he goes upwards and now suckles at the outline of his tip, it’s the first time he hears patrick whine.

they don’t know who does it but his shorts are now removed, a pair of boxers being the only separation of contact now. art gets back to it immediately, licking up the drops of precum leaking through and humming. “you’re fucking starving for it, oh god, i need more—“ patrick moans out with struggle.

when he sees art’s hand tugging his own cock he spits out a fuck me and art’s eyes roll back. he uses the grip on his curls to pull him back up, “enough. i’m taking them off, need to cum in that hot little mouth.”

art is ready to show him just how proud he is.

[minnie-binjin]

♥︎DREAM OF YOU♥︎

MINORS DNI 18+!!

genre:smut, mh caught having a wet dream about you.🙏

CW: Switch!mh, Switch!afab reader, unprotected sex (cut the cameras) p in v, creampie, dry humping, and edging (I'm sure that's all, but let me know if there's more)

p.s:FIRST TIME WRITING DONT EXPECT GREATNESS!!

You've been having a REALLY hard day at work. Stressful couldn't even cut it, so of course, all you wanted to do was get home to your bed and have a little fun here and there and hopefully minho wasn't going to interfere with that as he's always needing something around the house or at least most of the time that's what he needs.

Finally, getting to your home and opening the door to your shared apartment with your roommate on the couch sleeping, closing the door normal as caring for his nap, wasn't an issue as he usually asked you to wake him when you get home so no need for any silence. As you walk over to wake him, that's when you heard it.

"Y/n...fuck you're so tight, I-I'm gonna cum fuck." An incoherent but very visible sentence came from his lips. What was he dreaming about? Why were you in it? In the main part of your mind, you were extremely confused and conflicted and the other...so fucking turned on. It felt so wrong and weird, but the way he said your name was whiny and needy, he sounds so desperate that it's driving you crazy.

You just wanted to sit there and listen to the rest, feeling the wetness of your aching cunt mixed with the groans of Minho's mindless moans were too much, you wanted to feel him, you needed to feel him. You slowly crouched down near his face, now being more able to the sounds come from his mouth more better and god they were so fucking good, patting on his chest to wake him looking at his sleepy face as his eyes softly open.

Looking at you as you smile slyly at him as you watch his eye go blank then to a shy panic. "Y-Y/n um hey, how are you?" Minho rubs the back his head, avoiding as much eye contact as possible. "I'm wonderful, Min. How did you sleep, hm?" You say sweetly, his nickname basically rolling off your tongue like candy. "And that dream. Was it good, baby?" Slowly climbing onto the couch straddling Minho with no other thought, giving him no time to process, rubbing your soft, warm cunt on his hard, and extremely noticeable dick. Watching as Min's face changes from a nervous to weak pleasure look made you even more wet and needy for him.

"Shit...Y/n fuck I-you're so warm, feels so good mama please don't stop." Min grabs at your hips, clawing at the silky fabric wrapping and shaping your curves. "I'm gonna cum mama please..don't stop." Looking up at you with so much despair you could just eat him rn, even then you began lifting your body from his hard dick with no effort, causing him to whine pathetically as your warmness leaves his crotch. "Cmon baby, not yet ok? I still want you to fill me up." Taking off the pants you had on fairly quickly, going right back to straddling Minho looking at him with seductive eyes, pulling down his shorts and bowers as his throbbing dick lays on his chest hard as a rock.

Moving your underwear to the side with one hand, stroking Minho with other, lining yourself up with his dick as you slowly sink onto his hot throbbing length.

"Holy shit you're so big, Min baby." Bitting down on your lips as you move yourself up and down slowly on him as your ass and his hips meet constantly until all you both hear is the sound of skin slapping together the faster you moving on his dick. "Min fuck I-I'm so close, I can't hold it please!"

You feel your climax slowly reaching as your eyes meet the back of your head, clawing into Minho's shoulder as you press your chin to his neck, both of you moan in an almost pornographic way. "C'mon Mama, cum for me. I'm close too ok? Just cum." His filthy reassuring tone threw you over the edge, cuming more than a toy has ever made you. You constantly clench as min fucks you through your high, causing Minho to cum not to long after you filling you with his warm white liquid as he finally stops pulling out of you to let it all come out of your swollen and abused cunt.

"I'm sorry, you just felt so good." Minho chuckles, pushing his face into your chest, huffing softly. "It's okay, Min. I won't die from it." You ruffle his hair, trying to catch your own breath from that intense situation, definitely forgetting about all the stress from before.

The end.

Hope you liked it! :))

[kalembappe]

Focus | k.m. 7 (req'd) a/n: someone send jude request idc how filthy wordcount: 1855 nsfw warning! 18+...pwp, choking, dirty talk, you r switchy

“I have to-” “Shush, shh, sh.” Your voice is quiet, normally soothing, but the way your breath fans his ear makes everything feel worse. “It’s almost done, ‘kay? Just a little bit more.” You sigh, resting on the warmth under you. 

You’ve been watching this documentary, something about…sports? He can’t do this right now. His whole body was tense in the couch, legs an open space for you to rest between but the curve of your ass is digging into his crotch. It’s been a week since he’s last seen you, touched you even with how he’s been swamped with work and you were both stuck between places. All he did was think of you–crave you, and now that you’re here, he can’t satiate himself since you thought it’d be a good idea to watch–His eyes open back up to meet the flat screen and see what he blanked on.

Shit, he doesn’t know if he’s cursing you or  himself; the documentary is about football and he didn’t even notice. You’re 41 minutes into the film but the only thing he grasped is the title. He’s not even mad that the name of the film is; How to win the world cup, he could laugh about it maybe but you’re making it hard. For him. It’s so hard for him.

 To focus, is what he means. Your hips adjust, shifting in your seat. His hands tense on your thigh, there’s no way you don’t know what you’re doing. At this point, that’s him  just trying to cope; he knows the likeliness of you not knowing is high since you’re so focused, it annoys him a bit how you’re so distracted by someone who wasn’t… “Look, it’s you.” You point out with a proud smile. Maybe it’s the lighting but there’s a glint in your eyes as soon as he appears on the screen.  Sometimes, you can’t make it to his games so you watch him through the TV, he knows you do since you text him before every match. And when you do watch him live, he can’t see you while he’s playing. Only now had he noticed the excitement on your fingertips when he feels your nails graze his thigh, or just how big your smile does get when someone praises him. It’s like seeing you for the first time again, maybe it’s because he hasn’t seen you in this light, or maybe it’s because he just misses you so, so , so much, but the urge to not fuck you into the couch right now is getting intolerable.

Your head leans back to rest on his shoulder, full weight on him, hands gripping his thigh to help you lift yourself on him. Unknowingly, your hands move closer to his crotch as they move up–a groan slips from his throat.

He doesn’t miss the small pause your body makes. He’s even worse now, cheeks heated, lips swollen from the bite of his teeth; Kylian looks up at the ceiling with silent prayers in his head while you’re sinking into him like a cushion. Surprisingly, you continue on without a care, watching as the movie unfolds before you. It’s only with the wiggle of your hips that he grabs your waist to halt your movements. He could almost feel the smirk you’re making. “I missed you.” He tries bringing your attention elsewhere. “I can tell.” There’s a smile in your tone. He stutters, “You’re- you’re horrible.” There’s a rude giggle you let out, it’s normally cute, but he’s already thinking of different ways he can get you to shut up. You chide, “How much…”  His brain feels muddled when you roll your hips, unable to fully catch on the words you say. “How much do you miss me Kyky…” You repeat, voice sticky and tantalizing. His hands control the move of your hips, strong and desperate. The tingle in your stomach reverberates to your core, excitement drips on the cotton of your underwear, the nightie you're wearing hiked up to your hips, allowing you to leave a wet patch on Kylian’s sweats. He whimpers almost, “I wanna fuck you into the couch, fuck you till you can’t talk anymore.” “You can’t- You’re the one who can barely talk.” Your words nearly betray you, Kylian’s rocking into your underwear causing it to ride between the mounds of your ass, the hands that were last on your waist now groping your tits. “I’m gonna fuck you till you lose the attitude.” There’s a pause in the air where all movement had stopped.  You break, turning into a mess of whines. It’s like a switch flipped when he straightens his back on the couch, sitting you both up effortlessly. 

His fingers draw a line between the apex of your thighs as he tangles his legs with yours, spreading you open. You’re getting impatient as he trails closer and closer, lips leaving open mouth kisses on your neck to your shoulders.

He pulls your panties to the side, flicking your clit to tease, you’re about to curse him out when you cut yourself off with a pant. His fingers are circling on your clit till it turns hard. It's too much, too quick, but he’s tenacious in his movements–consistent. If he’s like this now, you can barely imagine what he’d be like later. Your hips grind into his lap to retort, but you stop moving when your orgasm suddenly rips through you. You try closing your legs, squirming in his grip but he’s unmoving, you’re open and held to him. Exposed. He doesn’t stop rubbing, your pants turn into mewls, your body wants to grind back but also stay away. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry…” He pauses, a smirk gracing his lips. “I didn’t even fuck you yet.” He almost laughs at your dispair. Slowly he untangles your legs, putting you aside on the couch. There’s an ache between your legs that doesn’t seem to go away. He positions your ass up, you let him, he’s behind you now. You can move your legs yourself, maybe you can even hold yourself up on your elbows, but you don’t find it in you to try. It’s a lewd sight, your wet puffy cunt, aching and clenching at nothing. You’re a puddle when you feel the thick head of his cock prod your entrance, it’s relief and too much at the same time. Kylian groans, his palm bending your spine to arch so he can enter you at an angle, deeper. It’s messy, and rough but it’s also slow. You’re drooling on the couch, your nightie was on the floor with his discarded pants, your underwear–you didn’t even notice he’d taken your underwear off. He’s bottoming out into you and it feels like you’re struggling to breathe.

it’s as if he reads your mind when you feel his fingers grab you by the neck, halting your breath when he pulls you up. His heartbeat is on your back but you’re sure yours is rippling louder than his. You wanna say something, cough, or breathe but you can’t. The lack of air turns you into liquid threatening to slide off flat onto the surface– you can feel pressure but you don’t know if it’s in your head. Whimper stuck in your throat, your fingers tremble, tapping at Kylian’s to tell him you’re on the verge of blacking out.

“Want me to let go?”  His fingers tighten on the sides of your throat, gasps replacing your futile attempts at talking. He leaves a small peck on the side of your forehead, Fine, he says dismissively.

You nearly cum when you breathe out, air filling your lungs and your rotting brain but there's a feeling in your stomach that pauses you in your tracks. The sight underneath you leaves a breathless sob to escape your lips. “Kyky, what did you–” “I let go. Didn’t you want that?” His tone is mocking the same way his hands knead the flesh of your thighs, boasting his ability to breathe with the air fanning your ear, contrast to your stuttered breathing. Kylian groans, he isn’t sure if it’s because your nails are digging into his forearm or from how tight your pussy’s clenching him. You couldn’t believe it. He choked you till he’s completely bottomed out in your stomach. He wipes the tear running down your cheek, “What? Baby thinks it’s too much?” “Mmngh-” His hand is back on your throat, pulling back till he’s completely out of you. He could feel the whine in your throat that escapes with the sudden buck of his hips. The sound of his hips meeting your bounce off the walls of the room. It’s slow and rough and nothing short of dirty. 

Kylian dips his head to meet yours in a kiss. It’s sweet for the most part. His lips are soft and warm against yours, attentive and pliant. But it turns rough when he remembers where he is, he rolls his cock into you again, head brushing the spongy part deep inside you. Kylian swallows your moans with each stutter of his hips.

The only time you part is when you need to take a breather but that seems to be a struggle from the start. “I missed you. Was thinking of you in the plane. Did you, fuck, miss me?” You nod, unable to form any words. He’s laughing in your ear, watching as you grind back to meet his movements. You give no response, just thin gasps, it annoys Kylian–he lets you get off for two seconds and you forget he’s there. He tsks, pinching your clit out of spite, a high whine escapes you, your legs tremble. 

He repeats his question, voice deeper now, treading between incoherent words and grunts. You moan at his roughness, “I waited, all week for you. I– I missed you so much.” You looked completely gone, babbling with spit and tears coating your flushed face, hair sticking to your forehead, skin salty with sweat. Completely ruined. Yeah? He whispers without the intention of waiting for an answer. Your moans stutter as he pumps faster onto you, your throat turning hoarse. “‘M cumming, ‘M gonna cum-” He doesn’t care, it isn’t new that you get off so fast, he just keeps at it, fucking you to your orgasm. Kylian already let go of your neck by this time, hands using your arms as handles and pumping into you to chase his own high. Sweat trickles down his forehead as deep groans erupt from his throat. The buck of his hips are rougher now, faster. You know he’s near. Your legs shake, his groans turn close to whimpers blending with your own. Your pussy flutters, his cock twitching in you, enough to snap the coil in both of you. He breathes hard, wetness dribbles down your thighs. His hips roll, fucking his seed back into you. “Kylian.” You whine, everything was sensitive. Your boyfriend apologizes, leaving a peck on the back of your neck. There’s a small chuckle he leaves out, you don’t know why he’s laughing. “What is it?” “You left the TV on.”

[ooihcnoiwlerh]

Hello! I'm back with another chapter of my Feyd-Rautha/Reader arranged marriage series.

AO3 link here for full fic: And I Don't Want Your Heart - Chapter 5 - ooihcnoiwlerh - Dune (2021) [Archive of Our Own]

Side post that has some of my headcanons for how I interpret Feyd-Rautha's own relationship to his sexuality: Hello, Friend - So I've been working on a Feyd-Rautha/Reader... (tumblr.com)

This fic and this chapter are 18+ up only. Tags, content warning, and full chapter below the cut

Tags/CW list: rape/noncon; graphic depictions of violence; dubious consent; arranged marriage; forced pregnancy; nature versus nurture; implied/referenced child abuse; implied/referenced sexual assault; implied/referenced incest; first time; rough sex; oral sex; vaginal sex; vaginal fingering; blood kink; pain kink; sadomasochism; period sex; problematic smut; inappropriate misuse of BDSM; slow burn emotionally but the exact opposite of a slow burn phyiscally

CHAPTER FOUR: A BLOODY GASH

You're fertile.  You’ve never had any reason to believe otherwise.  This union is contingent on giving him children–at least one son, and as many attempts as necessary to get there ( and you desperately hope that you’ll only need that first one.  You don’t want to raise a daughter in this place, amongst these people .)

So you’re horrified when you wake up the following morning to blood smeared between your legs, staining your chemise that rode up to your hips when you were sleeping, and leaving a smear on the sheets below when you move.

No.  No.  You pull up the hem of your chemise and stare at your inner thighs as if just looking will change the outcome.  Feyd-Rautha came inside of you four times in two days for nothing .  He’ll be furious.  He’ll question your very biology.  He’ll have you examined as thoroughly and cruelly as possible.

You scramble, trying to cover yourself, wondering what you can even do next when Idrisa comes in with fresh water and coffee.

To her credit, she doesn't drop the tray when her eye line goes directly to your bleeding crotch for the few seconds it’s still visible.

“I knew my time for it was coming up, I just didn't think it would,” you say to yourself as much as her and come to meet her gaze.

She glances back down out of respect, but the awkward tension hangs between the two of you for a moment.

“Do you…” you start, embarrassment flushing your face and neck, “do you have anything for it?”  You have no idea how menstrual care even works on Geidi Prime.  You’d just assumed that it wouldn’t be an issue for another ten months.

She composes herself again immediately.  “Why yes, of course, Na-Baroness.  I apologize for my negligence.”  Before you can tell her there's nothing to apologize for, she adds, “I'll help you get cleaned up first.”

“That’s alright, I can do it,” you tell her as you wonder for a moment who she served before that she’d assume you want her to clean between your legs when you’re perfectly capable of doing it yourself.

She inclines her head further.  “Thank you, Na-Baroness.  I’ll be back in just a moment.”  

As soon as she’s out the door you’re up and walking briskly to the bathroom. 

You’ll need to have the sheets changed.

It’s only been two days, you think, washing between your legs.  This doesn’t mean anything bad .  When he asks for you, you can just explain the situation and try again in a few days.  Until then…until then…   For a moment you draw a blank, before remembering a conversation you had a few years ago with a slightly older friend when you asked her if husbands still desired their wives when their wives were bleeding.

“ They honestly just want something warm, soft, and wet to bury themselves in, ” she’d told you matter-of-factly.  “ So most men just use their wife’s mouths .”

“ What do you mean? ” you’d asked, fairly certain you had an idea what she was talking about but still more willing to briefly embarrass yourself by asking than remain ignorant.

“ You know what goes on between a man’s legs, right? ” she’d asked in turn.

“ Of course ,” you’d said, a little offended that she’d think you so naive. 

“ When you’re bleeding and he still wants you to please him, put your mouth there instead, ” she’d told you.  “ Like he’s burying himself inside your mouth instead of your canal.  You can’t make babies that way, of course, but they often don’t care about that .   You can’t really make babies during your monthly courses anyway. ”

You wonder how she reacted when she found out who you’d be marrying.  You never got the chance to ask and assume, like many young women and their parents, that she was relieved that she wasn’t the one hand-picked for him. 

You also haven’t done that to him yet, nor any other man, for that matter, and you’re sure your lack of skill will show.  How are you meant to take the entire thing in your mouth when you can barely fit it where it’s meant to go?  What are you supposed to do with your teeth?  It also just seems somehow more daunting and personal than just having inside of you in the traditional manner.  

He’ll be aggressive with it, like he is in everything else. 

You can’t stop thinking about it as you brush your teeth and hair and try to ignore the discomfort in your lower belly before you hear a click and the door to your quarters opening.

Idrisa’s back with a basket made of some kind of black synthetic material; it’s covered to protect its contents from passing view.  You could kiss her for that, you think, and she starts unpacking.

She pulls out what look like thick handkerchiefs, going to your bathroom to stack them neatly on the countertop.  She also hands you a canister that you open to find a handful of circular tablets.

“They’re not as strong as what I left for your wedding night,” she says, “and they won’t put you to sleep, but they should suffice if you need them.”

You’d chalked up your cramps to nerves but now that you have your answer the symptoms couldn’t have been more obvious.  “Thank you, I think I will,” you tell her as you think about how you’ll likely be expected to join your new family, if one could call them that, for breakfast again.  The thought makes you want to crawl back under the covers.

“Can you also please tell Feyd-Rautha that I apologize for missing breakfast but that I'm feeling unwell this morning and wouldn't want to be poor company in my condition?” you ask.

Idrisa hesitates, nervous.  You realize that she's thinking, You know that your husband finds me far more disposable than he finds you, right?  He could easily kill and replace me and no one would care.  You also realize that she can’t and won’t say no to you.  But just that look reminds you that as frightening as this fortress is to you, it’s much worse for her.  You haven’t seen Feyd-Rautha kill outside of the arena yet, but you also barely know him; killing people who displease him over minor inconveniences, especially if they’re low-born and low-ranking, could be a common occurrence for him.  The Harkonnens didn’t earn their reputation for nothing.

“Unless you think they won't notice if I’m even there,” you add, thinking.  The Baron couldn't care less if he never has a conversation with you again, and outside of the marriage bed, Feyd-Rautha doesn't appear to have any real plans for you.  “I could just…stay here and if Feyd-Rautha has any questions he can ask them.”

Idrisa’s shoulders had been locked and tense but appear to relax just a little at your words.  “I can make a plate for you and bring it back here,” she says, already knowing your preference.  Given Geidi Prime’s incredible wealth and lack of natural resources other than fuels and metals there are imported fruits that you’d never had before coming here that you’re certain you’ll never get sick of.

“Sounds perfect, thank you,” you tell her, and take advantage of the new medication when she leaves.

When she returns with another tray for you, she’s accompanied by two other girls holding a fresh arrangement of sheets; the hems and necklines of their garb are cut a little different from hers and they look younger, perhaps the same age as your little sister.  You wonder if the difference in the way they’re dressed suggests rank?  They keep their heads down and don’t acknowledge you other than a silent curtsy before stripping your old sheets and setting down a new spread.  You look at them for a moment, wondering if it’s at the Baron’s insistence that no staff ever look a Harkonnen royal in the eye or if this rule’s been going on for generations when Idrisa snaps you out of your thoughts.

“I have a tea prepared for you as well, Na-Baroness,” she says, gesturing towards the tray that she’s set on your end-table and removing the cloche covering your plate.  “It’s not medicine strictly speaking but it has soothing properties.”

You turn and look at her.  She doesn’t look much older than you, but the same can be said of most of the female slaves.  Are they banished to where they won’t be easily seen when they reach a certain age?  What’s the life expectancy?  It feels more than a little insensitive to ask right now, so you just let them work as you take a seat at your end-table and take a sip of your tea.

After breakfast is over and you’ve found a comfortable position sitting up in bed, propped up by the pillows and headboards, you read a bit more on the Harkonnen lineage.  The more you read, the more you understand why Father always insisted that Geidi Prime is no place for a woman.  Women in high places, you find, have in history been assassinated more often than the men, or kidnapped to use as collateral and tortured.  You wonder if that’s why you saw so few at the wedding and reception, why they seemed so hidden out of view even while accompanying their high-ranking husbands.

You’re reasonably certain that your new husband’s concerned enough with his image as heir to the Harkonnen throne not to tarnish the alliance your marriage has created, that even if he doesn’t really know you and may never love you–you’re reasonably certain that he’s incapable of feeling such an emotion–he’ll still make sure to protect what he sees as his.  His uncle will likely be another story.  

The door opens unannounced and you look up, expecting Idrisa only to find Feyd-Rautha letting himself in without a word and closing the door behind him.  He doesn’t speak at first, but everything in his demeanor tells you that he did in fact notice your absence and wants an explanation.

You compose yourself.  There’s no need to panic.  “Good afternoon, husband.  To what do I owe the pleasure?” you ask, tone as light and cool as the weather would be on your home planet right now. 

He leans against the door as he folds his arms across his chest and looks you over.  “I missed you at breakfast,” he says.

“Yes, my apologies.  I’m not feeling well,” you tell him.  

He clearly doesn’t believe you.  You don’t seem feverish , he seems to think with his unimpressed gaze.  You seem fine .  “Still getting adjusted to the atmosphere on Geidi Prime?” he asks, and for a foolish moment you hope that he’s giving you an excuse.  Maybe he thinks you’re avoiding him because of last night, and you’re content to let him think that.

“Yes, husband,” you tell him.  

“That’s a shame,” he says, crossing over to your bed and sitting at the edge of it.  “It occurred to me last night that whoever taught you close-range maneuvers didn’t do their job right.  You should’ve been able to evade me.”

You wrinkle your brow and don’t have it in you to hide your insulted glare; your House’s military is considered a force to be reckoned with and a slight against your training is a slight against your House and your father himself.  “Did you want me to evade you?” you ask.

He seems amused by your sudden sharpness, and you realize that he’d wanted to hit a nerve.  He knew what he was implying and got the precise reaction he’d been hoping for.  “That’s not the point, wife.  You said yourself that you were out of practice and as soon as you’re feeling better I intend to rectify that.  Your cute little boot-dagger won’t serve you any good if you can’t correctly use it.”  

He places his hand on your leg, trailing it along your thigh and stopping just shy of your apex, his thumb brushing against it through the fabric of your skirt.  You give a sharp inhale that makes him smile.  You start to close your legs but his hand, now cupping your inner thigh, holds one open enough for him to continue to fondle as he pleases.

His hand stays there for a moment, stays over the light material of your skirt even as you're sure the soft flesh of your inner thigh heats his palm, as flushed as you feel under his touch.  He leans in, inhales as he leans over you and sniffs your hair.  It’s not even the first time he’s done it.  You wonder if he finds your hair to be a sort of forbidden fruit; something he can’t say he likes because to do so would disrespect Harkonnen hairlessness, but still something he finds fascinating or even enviable.  You’re not sure yet whether his lack of it is down to genetics or grooming but you assume the former, if it affects everyone including those who wouldn’t have such prime access to constant shaving.

But then he fully brings his hand between your legs, fingertips rubbing up against you and you flinch.  

Now?  Is he going to try and fuck me right here and now?   You shift, trying to hide what you’re sure is a look of panic on your face, trying to scramble for an excuse as Feyd-Rautha rubs a whimper out of you.

In the moments he does and you freeze, he watches your face a moment longer and then something shifts in his eyes, and he pulls back.

“I’ll call on you soon,” he says.  There’s something satisfied, almost smug in his tone.  He doesn’t wait for a response from you before he gets up and leaves, and you wonder what caused his departure.

Idrisa comes in a minute later with more tea for you.  “The Na-Baron seems mollified,” she says.  “He’s taken the news well.”

“I didn’t tell him.”

You catch Idrisa furrowing her brow-line, incredulous even with her head bowed before she can smooth over her expression into one of polite indifference.

“He doesn’t need to know yet,” you tell her.  “He said he’d call on me later.”

“My apologies for speaking boldly, Na-Baroness,” she says, “but the Na-Baron will still take you to bed tonight or whenever he decides is convenient.  Harkonnen men expect their wives to always be available to them, no matter how they’re feeling.”

You suppose you already knew this.  It certainly doesn’t help the gnawing feeling in your stomach even as the medicine Idrisa gave you has soothed the cramps for now.  

“It appears I can hold him off until after dinner, at least,” you finally say.  There’s that; you also appreciate having another meal without the Baron’s presence.

You wish you had someone you could talk to about this in which it wouldn’t feel weird to ask.  You look over at Idrisa.  She’s the only friend you’ve managed to make so far and while you don’t see that changing anytime soon, you haven’t forgotten that she keeps you company out of obligation.  You can’t be certain as to whether or not she actually likes you, or if she only tolerates you due to her heightened position within the Harkonnen Fortress as your personal attendant.  Still, she’s certainly better than no one to ask.  She takes your old mug and heads for the door.

“Idrisa,” you start.  She turns.  “You’ve…have you been with men before?”

She inclines her head in a polite nod.  “When it’s required of me,” she says.

Your second question dies in your mouth.  Oh.  Right .  Yet again you’re disgusted but can’t say you’re all that surprised.

And instead of asking for advice you’re struck by another thought.  “Has the Na-Baron ever…?” you start and she immediately shakes her head.

“Never, Na-Baroness,” she assures you.  “He has never been known to satiate himself that way with slaves.”

Are you being honest or telling me what I want to hear? you almost ask but spare her the indignity.  You’re reasonably certain that if Feyd-Rautha had taken advantage of her, he’d have gloated to you about it.  “Thank you,” you tell her.  You don’t want to know how men on Geidi Prime have abused her mouth.  “I was just curious.”

“Not at all, Na-Baroness,” she says.

As the hours tick by you wish you'd just told Feyd-Rautha your situation and gotten whatever awkward ensuing conversation over with.

In the evening Idrisa brings you dinner, more tea, and a glass of wine.  “The Na-Baron has given you two hours before expecting you in his bedchambers.”

You sigh.  “Thank you, Idrisa,” you tell her, not quite willing to add, you were right .  You eat, you have your tea, you bathe and clean your hair.  And in the remaining time that you have before you need to leave, you sip your wine. You’d be foolish to assume that it will truly settle your nerves, but it tastes nice. 

“I guess it’s time,” you say finally, looking at the timepiece on your nightstand.  “How angry do you think he’ll be?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know, Na-Baroness,” Idrisa says as she opens the door to lead you to your husband.  “He’s never been married nor been instructed to sire an heir before.”

When you get to his bedroom he’s already standing in the middle of it, wearing only black pants with a relaxed fit that suggests leisure, maybe sleep.  And here you hadn’t taken him as the kind of man to own pajamas.

He looks over your shoulder at Idrisa, who seems just as surprised to see him as you are even as she immediately lowers her head in deference.

“Dismissed,” he tells her, and she curtsies and scurries out of the room, closing the door behind her, leaving the two of you alone and rather more dressed than you’ve been in this room.

You stand, awkwardly, playing with the sash to your robe as the two of you look at each other in silence.  Or rather, he stares at you and you look down, knowing what you’d rehearsed and still needing to force the words out.

“My apologies, husband, but it’s my time of month,” you finally manage.

“I know,” he says.  “I could smell it on you.  I could feel your rag in between your legs.”

Was that what he was doing?  You look up at his face and find nothing that you can really parse and pause, unsure what you could say to that, before you move on.

“I know it’s not ideal, but we can try again in a few days, and in the meantime,” you try to sound like you’re not as nervous as you are, fully aware that seduction was never something you learned, “I know that there are…other ways to satisfy you.”  A few days and we can resume trying to secure your firstborn .  

He gives a small smirk at the second part of your statement but comments only on the first.  “A few days?” he repeats, as if you’ve just said either the funniest or dumbest thing he’s heard all week.  “What makes you think I care to wait a few days?”

You’re not sure you heard him right.  “The blood,” you say slowly.  “I can’t control it.”

“You think a Harkonnen would be scared of a little blood?” he says.

You’re not sure what to say to that.  In hindsight, you’re not sure why you’d assumed that this man of all men would be too squeamish to fuck a bleeding woman.

“Strip down,” he says, after the seconds of silence that follow.  He sounds so casual as he says it, as if he just told you to have a seat.  You hesitate, still unsure if he’s being serious.

“Did you not understand me?” he prompts when seconds tick by and you haven’t moved.

“I do, husband,” say.  “But still, I have to warn you that it’ll make a mess.”

“Y/N,” he says, his tone somehow light.  There’s an element of danger to it.  “You’re not the one who’ll have to clean up afterwards.”

Nor you , you think.  “So you want me in this state.”  You don’t phrase it as a question but he can hear the confusion in your voice.

The smirk never quite left his face but returns in full as he crosses the few steps over to you that leaves you close enough that you can feel his breath.  He takes your wrist and presses your hand to his groin–it’s rapidly filling out.

“What do you think?” he says.

You gasp, almost giving an incredulous laugh as you glance between his face and back down to his groin.  Harkonnen men are built differently, you suppose.  

You pull away enough to unravel your robe and step out of your slippers.  He doesn’t object to your garments being left on his floor instead of neatly tucked on his dresser, so you keep going, pulling your chemise over your shoulders, pulling down your undergarment and letting it slide down your legs, until you’re bared entirely for him.

He looks down at the blood that gathered in the kerchief lining the gusset of your undergarment as it hits the floor and you step out of it, and then he looks back at you.

“Hold your arms out like this, wrists together,” he says, extending his own to demonstrate.

He still doesn’t seem angry, his tone suggesting patience that you know he doesn’t have, but you hesitate before mimicking him.

“Very nice,” he says, and you bristle at his condescension as he half-circles you before heading for his armoire.  You turn around to watch him open it, and your jaw drops when you see what’s inside.

It’s lined with whips, rope, chains, knives, scalpels, collars, and other items you’ve never seen before but if this is in his bedroom then it must serve one particular purpose, either on himself whoever has the misfortune of being with him when he wants to use any of these devices.  

He glances over his shoulder and looks if anything delighted by your stunned reaction, the growing sense of dread.  “I didn’t say you could drop your arms,” he says, and turns back to pick out a length of black rope.

You suppose you ought to be grateful that he didn’t pick out any chains.

You watch as he loops an intricate tie binding your wrists.  He does it with such practiced ease he looks directly into your eyes as he does it.  You manage to hold his gaze in defiance even as your heart hammers in your chest and you’re scared of what’s going to happen next.  You know that, like a true Harkonnen, he likes your fear, but it hasn’t occurred to either of you yet that he also appreciates your fire.

“Get on all fours on the bed, pet,” he says, tone light and playful as much as his gravely timbre can make it.

You try to keep your eyes on him as much as possible, making sure he’s never fully out of your sightline as you get on the bed, squirming but managing to maneuver the position he wants while your wrists are bound.  He knows that you don’t trust him, and if anything that seems to elevate his excitement.  

Good girl, he seems to be thinking.  He looks you over, turning and sauntering so he can take a moment to gaze first at your naked profile, then at your backside.

You have to keep reminding yourself that he won’t do anything that will risk you being able to give him children as he turns away and pads over to his armoire.  For a moment you’re not sure if he’s trying to decide what he’d like to use, or if he’s purposefully biding his time to make you more nervous.  His fingertips seem to dance over the whips, then the chains.  He briefly touches the handle to one of his knives.

Not the scalpel.  Please not the scalpel.

You see it–corded leather.  A black whip with multiple knotted tails.  He takes it down from his display but leaves the armoire doors open–undoubtedly to keep reminding you of what else he could be and very likely will be doing to you in the future.

You think about the Bene Gesserit Litany and try to repeat it in your head as you consider the tool? the weapon? clutched in his fist.  At first glance the whip looks like the cat-of-nine-tails your brother-in-law seems so fond of.  However, when you shut your eyes, take a breath, and think of the words– fear is the mind-killer –you realize when you open your eyes again that what Feyd-Rautha’s holding is a lot smaller than a proper cat-of-nine-tails and the tails thicker.  You have no doubt that this is going to hurt, but it doesn’t look like it will rip you apart.

“What, what is this?  A punishment for bleeding? ” you finally ask, unable to handle the silence anymore and because that’s the only explanation you can imagine.

And yet Feyd-Rautha looks amused that you’d suggest it.  “It’s because I want to use it on you,” he says, as if any further explanation would be silly.  “Ever since I first saw you, I wondered what that pretty ass of yours would look like after I’d taken this to it.”  He holds up the device for emphasis.  “I wondered what noises you’d make.  I wanted to know what you’d look like with your wrists bound, naked and helpless in my bed.  What you’d look like squirming and bleeding.

“ Yesterday was a punishment,” he adds.  “This is just fun.”

For you, perhaps, you think.  It’s no matter; you’ll just have to prove that you can take whatever he dishes out.  You just have to decide whether it’s better or worse that he’s not doing this out of anger. 

“Are you scared, pet?” he asks.

“ No, ” you lie in the most adamant and dignified tone you can muster, and once again he acts like what you’ve said is cute.  He clicks his tongue.

“You mustn’t lie to me in bed, pet,” he says, approaching the bed again, his free hand skimming over your ribcage, your side, your hip, as he finally stands beside the bed, and ever-so-slowly draws the corded whip up and down the backs of your thighs.  The tassels brush gently against your skin and it feels perverse, the anticipation he’s building within you.  On his second pass you inhale sharply, shutting your eyes, hips twitching away from the device, and Feyd-Rautha chuckles at that.

“Relax,” he says.

Fuck you.  You know I can’t.  Just do it and get it over with , you want to tell him with your sharp exhale, and one second later he draws his hand back and brings the whip down.

You cry out, rocking forward, your entire body clenching up as much from shock as pain.  Nothing could really prepare you for this; his hand from the first night had been easier, more personal.  The individual cords spread out like a fractal tree, like cracks in a block of ice fanning out. 

The second time is less sharp, more of a thud that reverberates through your body, the impact reverberating in your pulse.  Tears prick up at the corners of your eyes and for a moment you can’t breathe.  It would figure that this man has used this device often enough that he knows how to inflict different flavors of pain depending on whether he’s putting the movement in his wrist or his forearm.  You clench your fists, waiting for the next lash, and then the next.

Your nerves are on fire.  You can barely think, barely focus on anything but the exquisite pain on impact, the sharp sting of the air against your impacted flesh, the sweet moments you adjust, finding your breath, before he comes down again.  You don’t scream, not after the first blow, but the tears forming at the corners of your eyes start trickling down your face and then drop directly onto your forearms the covers below you when you bow your head.  

You don’t know how long he keeps going, don’t keep count.  The pain starts to dull but the intensity becomes overwhelming as he compounds on every lash.  Your ears are ringing.  You taste iron at the back of your throat.  The worst part is that you find, to your horror, your nipples feel stiff.  You start to feel wet.

It has to be a fear response.  This isn’t enjoyable .  It’s intense, it’s painful, and you can’t help but feel shame lance through you that your body would react this way.

Please.  I can’t take any more , you want to tell him, but opt instead to whimper through your clenched teeth.

At that moment the whip comes down and it sends you toppling forward, finally collapsing.  The covers are soft against your tear-stained cheek.  You shut your eyes, panting, waiting for him to haul you back up and continue the process.

But nothing happens.  You don’t try to look behind you and hope that he’s done.  You just take a rattling breath and listen for the sound of the whip and its tendrils slicing through air, and it doesn’t come.  

“You lasted longer than I thought you would,” Feyd-Rautha says, the first time he’s spoken in minutes, and you open your eyes and  turn your head to see him twist the coils of his whip and head over to the armoire.

“Come on,” he says over his shoulder.  “Back into position, pet.”  

You grit your teeth and force yourself back up on your hands and elbows.  “Good,” he adds softly, and it’s embarrassing how one single word of praise makes you flush, sends a pleasant tingle down your spine.  This shouldn’t have the effect on you that it does–maybe it’s because now that it’s over, you feel lighter, almost dazed.  All of your muscles had tightened into coils, but now you feel pliant to the point that your limbs feel rubbery.  You’re exhausted.  You’re hurt.  You don’t know what else he has on the agenda for you tonight but you just hope it doesn’t involve another one of his whips or ropes.

He sets the device back in the armoire and turns to face you.  He looks at your flushed, tear-stained face and smiles, mouth-closed before approaching the bed, his cock hard in his pants, and even though part of you wants nothing more than to melt into the bed and to get some relief for your stinging backside, you know he’s still going to chase his own pleasure.

‘He’ll want your mouth,’ you remember.  

You won’t wait for him to force it or grind your face into his privates.  If that’s what he wants, you’ll get there first, and so you drop your head and fumble as you reach with bound wrists for the fly of his pants.

You’re focused on what’s directly in your eyeline, so you don’t see his brief look of surprise, but you hear his voice, sounding pleased.  “Let me help you with that, pet,” he says, pulling away long enough to pull his pants down, stepping out of them.

It’s even more daunting when it’s this close to your face, but he steps back in, cradling your jaw, and you lean in and lick the tip of him.

For a few seconds that’s all you know to do, to lick around him, feeling the ridges and veins under your tongue.  It’s all the verification he could possibly need that you’ve never done this before, and that spurs him on, cradling your head in one large hand as the other guides himself past your lips and into your mouth.

It confirms what you suspected; he’s too big to take all the way and thankfully, doesn’t try to make you.  

Not yet, a part of you thinks.  You try to breathe, try not to get your teeth on him, try to relax and close your eyes as he controls the pace.  It’s easy enough at first; far from the rutting of the past couple of nights.  It doesn’t occur to you that, by his standards anyway, he’s being gentle with you.  Doesn’t occur to you to wonder why.  You just try to keep up as your backside and the backs of your thighs sting like hell and you hope Idrisa will have some sort of lotion for it when you get back to your quarters.

Feyd-Rautha appears to have yet another reason to like your hair, it seems, as he threads his fingers through it, guiding you onto him in slowly greater increments until he’s suddenly over halfway in and you freeze, nearly gagging, forgetting how to breathe.

He holds you in place for a moment, just long enough for your eyes to widen as you glance up at him and his heavy-lidded eyes and chest heaving with arousal.  He waits until you’re about to struggle and tear away from him before he relinquishes your hair and steps away, pulling out.  You take a deep breath, gulping the air down.  

“Stay right there,” he says, and settles in behind you, stroking your hindquarters like you’re a horse that he’s trying to calm down.  Will he put a saddle on you next?  You exhale hard through your nose, mouth pursing, waiting for what he’ll do next.  Will he mark up the stinging raw skin he’s already flogged with his hand?

Fine.  Fuck you again.  I can take whatever you’ve got.  I can handle it , you want to tell him out of spite.   You sense him shift, dipping his head, and despite your steeled nerves can’t help but gasp and feel something flutter in your core when you feel his breath against your lower back.

What exactly is he–? is all you have time to think before he dives in.

You jolt and wriggle in shock as he licks over one of your growing welts; you can’t quite tell but wouldn’t be surprised if he broke skin.  However, it’s how his tongue glides over your backside before shifting his weight to your folds that sends waves of shock, revulsion, and excitement as you cry out, stunned.

He’s licking my wounds .

You’re trying to wrap your head around how salacious it is that his lips and tongue alternate between licking the impacted skin on your buttocks and the backs of your thighs and dipping his tongue inside of you.  He has your hips firmly in place, which serves him well given that you’re torn between recoiling away from the heat of his mouth and wanting to press back against it.  You can feel him smirk at the sounds of your shocked moans.

He pulls away long enough to turn you on your back and you wince at the impact before you see him slide down along the bed and continue the onslaught.  You can hardly believe it as he grabs your still-stinging buttocks and buries his face against your bleeding pussy.

This is disgusting , part of you thinks.  Another part of you can hardly understand what’s happening.  In all your years you’ve never met a man who didn’t recoil hearing about monthly courses.  You’ve never heard of anyone wanting to taste a…a bloody gash .

Your wrists are still bound, and you grip onto the pillows above your head as he lifts your thighs to rest over his shoulders and dives back in, tongue pressing inside of you.  

It feels incredible.   You’d prefer it if it didn’t.  More than anything else, you don’t want to be enjoying this, wish the continuous whines and moans he’s drawing out of you were insincere, but he can feel as well as you do that you mean every sound.  You, Lady Y/N of the powerful and dignified house of Y/H, are getting your bloody pussy licked by the ruthless barbarian Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen and Great Mother and every forgotten old god, you’re enjoying every visceral and shocking moment of it.

He knows it, too, the smug bastard.  He probably feels even more powerful like this, on his belly and with his face between your legs, than he did when he was tanning your hide.

He raises one hand from your hip to your breast, giving one of your nipples a cruel pinch, smirking against your slit as you whimper in protest, and continues.  His nose presses and rubs against your bud in the onslaught and you finally admit to yourself that any last vestiges of resistance you might have had has caved when you squirm, rocking your hips upwards and desperately wishing that your wrists were free so you could press his face closer into you.

He keeps up his pace, bringing you as close to the edge as possible without reaching it until finally, mercifully, he shifts his mouth to your bud, his fingers replacing his tongue inside of you.  Your unrestrained cries fill the room, spurring him on, and then the force of it hits you as he brings you over the precipice for the first time.  It feels like it comes in shockwaves, especially as he keeps going through it all.

You’re still pulsing and squirming against his tongue when he stops, raising himself up and leaning over you.  Inky, sticky blood coats the lower part of his face, from his chin to his nostrils, and you’re a little surprised at how the sight doesn’t alarm you as much as it probably should, especially since that’s your blood covering his face.

There are far worse ways he could be smeared with your blood .  You gasp, still, at the striking color against the pallor of his face, reminded of seeing him in the arena. 

He presses damp, open-mouthed kisses against your stomach, your ribcage, your breasts and collarbone, as if to mark you with it.  Finally he sits up, bringing your legs over his as he guides himself into you with his bloodied fingers.

He stays upright as he pulls you onto him, and you watch his face as he looks down where you’re joined, his groan like a rumble in his chest as he sees himself pumping in and out of your bleeding pussy.  He won’t last long, you realize.  He’s been holding himself back from fucking you into the mattress since he visited you in your chambers hours ago. 

He curves in then, bracing one hand above your head to grip your still-bound wrists as his other hand grabs your hip to keep you stable.  You realize what he’s about to do a split second before it can happen.

He’s going to kiss you with that bloody mouth .

You tamp down on the revulsion of it and the coppery smell, again refusing to let him shock you or give you anything you can’t take and move in first, leaning up and capturing his mouth in a kiss.  

He groans into it, hips pumping, tongue invading your mouth as he speeds up, going hard, hips snapping into you.  He’s relentless; this would be agonizing if he hadn’t worked you open and pliant with his lips and tongue and even still, it veers on the edge of being overwhelming.  Your whimpers and cries only encourage him.

And then he finally comes, burying his face in the crux of your neck and biting down, not hard enough to draw blood but enough that it will leave a bruise later.

For a moment the two of you stay that way, then he releases your wrists and sinks down onto you, dropping his forehead onto your shoulder as he pulls out and takes a moment to catch his breath.  After a moment he raises himself back up on his forearms, pauses, and takes in the sight of your face and your lips stained red before reaching for your wrists again and untying the rope; once freed you notice that your skin’s been chafed rosy but still fully intact.  

He gets up, and you watch the lines of his legs, the slope and curve of his buttocks, the taper from his shoulders to his waist as he gets up and sets the rope back in the armoire before finally closing it shut.

Guess he’s done for the night .

But is he going to send me back right away? you wonder, turning to your side to watch the way he moves.  It takes some effort.  You feel as depleted as a rung-out damp rag.

He approaches the bed and wordlessly holds out his hand, and once you take it guides you to your feet and leads you into this bathroom.

Like his bedroom, it’s larger than yours.

He doesn’t let you wash your blood off your body; he wants it to remain on you until it dries and peels off on its own.  Instead he wipes his face, rinses and cleans out his mouth, and gives you a cup of water to do the same.  He wipes off in between his legs and then yours, quiet and strangely peaceful.  He takes another cloth and wets it, and then grabs a small bottle out of a drawer.  “Turn around, hands on the counter,” he says.

Fairly certain you know what he’s about to do, you acquiesce.  “Did you draw blood?” you ask over your shoulder.

He shakes his head.  “Not this time,” he says.  “Wasn’t trying to.”  And then he surprises you by getting down on one knee.

You give a small gasp.  It just seems…lewd?  Subservient?  And tired and sore as you are, you can’t help the twinge you feel in between your legs as he gingerly presses the cloth against your reddened skin.  You grip the countertop tighter as he opens the bottle of what you can only assume is ointment because after a moment his fingertips are smeared in a cool balm that offers such sweet relief you drop your head, trying to hold yourself together when your legs feel like they’re about to give out and you can feel Feyd-Rautha’s breath so close to the sensitive skin of your backside.

He seems to be applying the ointment to the worst of the welts, starting in silence and then adding, “You’re sensitive, but you have a decent pain tolerance.  I like that.”

You huff a laugh.  I bet you say that to all the girls, you almost tell him, and immediately think that that’s probably not true.  If it weren’t for the fact that he’s tending to your wounds you’d assume that he’d never do anything like this.  Something tells you that this small act of kindness isn’t to be taken lightly or for granted.

Once he seems satisfied with his work he gets back up, sneaking a glance of your face in the mirror.

Is he thinking about how much you’ve already changed since you’ve met? Since you’ve married?  When you see your reflection you don’t see the same person you did a week ago.  Of course he didn’t know you a week ago.  He barely knows you now.  Still, when your eyes meet in the mirror, he looks at you with something almost close to affection before he leaves the bathroom.

“Stay the night,” he says when you walk over to your abandoned clothes so you can gather them up, get dressed, and return to your chambers.

You look over at him.

“I’ll want to sample you again first thing in the morning,” he explains, “so it’s more convenient if you remain here.”

You huff, torn between incredulity and amusement.  “Taking advantage of the situation while we still can, are we?” you ask.

“I doubt it’ll come again for another ten months,” he says, and then strides, still naked, for the door.  He opens it, and a few words of battle-language later he shuts again.  He sees your confused expression and explains, “Your slave was still waiting for you.  I told her to go.”  He tilts his head in the direction of his bed, and after a moment you follow.  It appears that he doesn’t even want you to pull your undergarment back on.

As soon as you’re under the covers with him he tugs down your end of it to get one last look at your marked chest.  And after he’s looked his fill, he reaches for a switch that turns off the lights and even as the two of you can’t quite see each other, you still find yourselves on your sides facing one another.

“I wake up earlier than you’re probably used to and I’m a light sleeper.  Your slave assured me that you don’t snore,” he says.

“Not that I’m aware of,” you tell him.

“Once you stop bleeding I’m going to start having you train in my Halls,” he adds.  “I was serious earlier.”

“But for the next few days I’m chained to this bed.”

“That could be arranged,” he says.  “In any case you weren’t complaining when I was licking your cunt earlier.”

He won’t see your flush, but he must know that it’s there.  “So… is it safe to assume that none of this is…” you try to find the right words, “typical?  For a man, I mean.” And in quite possibly the biggest understatement you’ve ever made, “You’re not a normal man.”

You’ve adjusted enough to the dark to see his smirk.  “I think you've known that since before we met, Y/N,” he says.  And after a moment he lays his head, settling in and getting comfortable.  He doesn’t say another word to you that night, just closes his eyes and within a couple of minutes his breath slows.

It’s hard to imagine being able to let your guard down enough with this man to sleep beside him, even if he falls asleep first.  Like sleeping beside a wild animal.  

Sleep does come to you, though, after long minutes watching him sleep, waiting for him to wake up and scare you, lunge for you, and it doesn’t happen.

You turn to your other side, facing away from him then, and the only signal you get that he’s not entirely asleep is that as you start to drift off yourself, he reaches one arm to pull you in closer to him.

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