#this is what they do and you can't convince me otherwise m

[topsyturvy-turtely]

sometimes christmas escalates tho.

(come on johnlock would totally get drunk on christmas and then have the brilliant idea to go "clueing for looks")

Sherlock admiring his tree-decorating handiwork.

[sinsofsummers]

push & pull

5.7k | din djarin x f!reader

summary: after convincing him to help you hide from the guild, you teach mando how to enjoy himself. this is the way. warnings: smut (duh), 18+, mdni. canon-typical violence, but otherwise it's super canon divergent. din is a touch-starved virgin, soft touches, lap-sitting, the helmet stays on, mask kink, din does lots of whimpering, experienced!reader, mutual masturbation, virginity loss (m), praise kink, creampie, brief aftercare at the end. note: look me in the eye and tell me he wouldn't crumble at the thought of skin-to-skin contact. yeah. you can't. anyways this is so long and so self-indulgent. pls forgive me. if mando takes his helmet off by the end of this, mind ur business this is sooooo not canon. note p.2: i'm so sorry this took so long but i was hungover. also this was not meant to be this long. so count this as a big fat thank you for 1.4k as well as my bday present to you guys (for my bday.) impaired editing i apologize.

With the light of both suns in your eyes, forcing you to blink the spots from your vision, you brushed a hand across your forehead. The dry, dusty atmosphere of Tatooine was no joke, and you scowled under the cloth you'd brought with you to cover your mouth and nose.

"Figures," you mumbled to yourself, looking down to see a small pile of sand building on the tops of your boots, the wind blowing it into place. "Why would anyone choose to live here?"

Of course, you weren't looking for a resident; you were looking for a fugitive. The infamous Mandalorion, no less. You'd been given less-than-satisfactory information on the bounty hunter and the reasons for such a high reward for his capture, but it wasn't like you had much choice than to accept the job. Despite what you told yourself, you did actually need the money.

That was before you'd figured out that everyone else in the Guild had been tasked with the same job, turning a high stakes bounty hunting gig into a near-definite suicide mission. Something you didn't want anything to do with.

But alas, here you stood, practically sinking into the hot Tatooine desert. You had to keep shifting your weight to keep at least one foot above the surface. You never knew when you'd have to make a quick getaway. There were still a handful of Guild members left that presented a challenge to collecting your bounty, and of course they were the most dangerous ones.

You kicked a foot forward and watched the sand shift, cursing the trouble that was inevitably on its way. You'd managed to bribe your way to Tatooine, where the Mandalorian was apparently hiding from the Guild. And if you had found the Mandalorian, there was almost no possibility that the others hadn't found him.

Because, if you were being honest with yourself—the one task you excelled in—being a bounty hunter wasn't exactly something you were good at. In fact, you were far from it. With luck and just enough anxiety to keep your feet moving, you'd floundered your way through three years in the Guild, searching for a way out just as quickly as you'd begged for a way in.

So you'd gotten yourself into this mess. Wasn't that how it normally went, though? Quick decision-making skills weren't necessarily a blessing if the decisions you made would determine your chances of living past thirty (spoiler: the chances were significantly slimmer).

You rubbed the dust out of your eyes once more and saw some movement in the distance, the subtle glint of beskar blinking toward you as it reflected the sunlight. Gotcha, you murmured inwardly. The Mandalorian was here, and you were going to get him. Not to turn him in, no; you held no loyalty to the Guild and its cult-like policies.

This job was an escape mission. If he could stay hidden, maybe he had room for one more. You'd cut a deal.

There had to be something you could offer him, if not your skills in combat, or stealth, or—

Or simply human mobility, you groaned inwardly as you felt your ankle roll underneath you, the sand softer than you'd anticipated. It'll be a good day when I leave this damn place.

—

It was a wonder that the two of you had survived. You'd hardly gotten the chance to give your proposal before he was aiming his blaster at you, and then at the Guild members that showed up in droves behind you. It was all you could do to get out of the way, knowing you'd be hopeless in the fight.

Now, with their bodies scattered around your feet, the Mandalorian standing a few feet from you with his chest heaving, and his beloved ship somehow still functional, you had your chance.

"You're not...very good at this," he said, the helmet masking his voice in a way that made it scratch along the insides of your ears as it traveled to your brain. "You do know that?" he asked, but it sounded more like an accidental insult than a real question.

You threw your hands up, letting them fall heavily to your sides. "Yeah, I told you that," you scoffed. "That's why I'm asking to go with you. Wherever you're headed."

His head tilted, the beskar shining in the setting suns, and you wondered what his eyes looked like under that helmet. Would they be sparkling with mirth or lined with mockery?

"I thought you were kidding," he said sheepishly, shifting his weight. "To get me to underestimate you." He looked like the picture of careful relaxation, although his blaster was still held tightly in both hands, poised in case he needed to aim and fire.

You couldn't help the exasperation in your tone as you lifted your head to the sky, squeezing your eyes shut and placing a curled fist over your eyes. "Why would I do that when I don't want to turn you in?"

He didn't answer.

"You know that there's only two ways out of this, right?" He still didn't answer you, just held his blaster taut and his head tilted to the side, so you continued. "You killed every Guild member that's left. Now it's just you and I. If I don't bring you in—which I'm not exactly dying to do—those rich fucks that are more powerful than us are gonna come find us."

"Find you," he corrected. "Why would I want to add another target to my ship?"

You shrugged. "Yeah, they probably will. But that's only part of the first option. Either they come for me, and you leave me here, and I die—also something I'm not particularly thrilled to think about—or the two of us..." you gestured with your hands to imitate the pair of you getting on the Razor Crest and flying away from Tatooine and its dusty expanse of a landscape.

"Could be a third option," he said quietly, "if you think about it." He lifted his blaster until it was lined up with your chest. "I might just kill you and cut my losses."

Fear might have struck you, but you didn't have the energy to entertain the panic unspooling in your chest. "That wouldn't be very humanitarian of you. Besides," you insisted, hands lifting to portray the image of surrender, "I'm light. I'm quiet. I won't stay with you longer than I need to. Once you get me off this planet, I'll find a place for you to drop me off."

He didn't answer for a moment.

"Literally," you pushed once more, "you can open the back door and push me out for all I care. I just want out of the Guild and all their dumb shit."

You'd known Mandalorians to be quiet, pious, and ruthless, but something about the way his helmet betrayed no hint to what he was thinking or how he might respond...it made you more anxious than you'd ever been in your life. Finally, he spoke, his voice calm. "Well...you're not coming with me. Ship's full."

"Your ship?" you said, incredulous. "That thing would be gone without me."

"Damn luck, that was." His voice had gone hard, but his body was still.

This was...partially true. Your mind flashed with a memory of the way you'd accidentally pulled the trigger on one of your blasters, effectively stunning the last Guild member who'd been attempting to strap explosives to the hull of the Crest. It was the only good thing that you'd done all day.

You curled your lip, annoyance rippling off you in waves. Lifting a middle finger in front of the helmet, you scowled. Hope he can see this under all that beskar, you snarled inwardly. "Still counts."

With a soft huff that you could hear come from under his helmet, the Mandalorian lowered his blaster. "One jump into hyperspace. The first little space rock that's big enough to stand on—"

"Perfect," you interrupted firmly. "I'll be out of you...armor...soon enough."

—

You'd missed your stop about three years ago. One jump into hyperspace had turned into four, and then ten, and...now you had your own spot to rest your head at night on the Razor Crest.

On that first day, you hadn't known the Mandalorian—"Din Djarin," he'd introduced himself reluctantly one day—was still traveling with Grogu, the sweet child that had begun his journey across the galaxy, hiding from the Guild. But you'd quickly decided it was nice to have another partner in crime, to interact with whenever Din was in the middle of one of his quiet days.

As the days had turned into months, and subsequently into years, the inability to meet Din face-to-face had become less frustrating, although sometimes you wished you could sneak a glance at his hands, or his wrists, or something that might resemble the human underneath the armor.

Once in awhile, deliciously, you could tilt your head just the right way and look forward at him when he was in the cockpit, his helmet pulling away from the cloth under his armor. Between helmet and armor, a sliver of golden skin would glimmer back at you, just begging to be touched. Of course, you never gave in to your silent desires.

This was not the Mandalorian way; you knew this well. Even when you felt his head turned toward you, even when you were sure his hands were reaching for you when you needed his help climbing somewhere, you kept your distance.

Well, for as long as you could. Until he forced your hand.

It wasn't long before you were unable to keep your hands away from him; going up and down the ladder on the Crest, or climbing over the occasional boulder on the routes you walked along when forced to take a respite on an unknown planet. His gloves were always rough in your grip, but you couldn't ignore the way his hands seemed to squeeze yours, tighter than might have been necessary.

And you'd begun letting your hands linger on the beskar of his armor for moments longer than you should—his helmet, tracing the indented curves of the spot where his cheekbones rested underneath, or on his chestplate, where you swore you could feel him lean into you, as if pressing your hands closer and closer to his skin beneath the armor.

You stood beside him as he sat in the chair in the cockpit, guiding the Razor Crest through the galaxy once more, aiming for some undisclosed location he'd neglected to tell you. He usually did things like that; you'd learned not to be offended by his unbreakable instinct to keep things to himself.

It hadn't occurred to you just how long he'd been wearing that helmet until you looked toward him again and noticed the soft curl of a few brown strands of hair that crept from the edges, kissing the back of his neck. They were short strands, but they were long enough to wink up at you as they curled around each other, begging to be touched.

"Din?" you asked, hoping to distract yourself from the thought.

He didn't look at you, but he tilted his head in your direction, just a centimeter. It was enough.

"Why'd you let me stay with you?" you gripped your hands together, as if they had a mind of their own and couldn't be trusted to remain at your sides. "I was horrible at any aspect of being a bounty hunter."

You were used to the way that it always took him a few seconds to answer, coming up with an evenly-expressed response. This, of course, gave you more time to stare at the tendrils spilling from the edges of his helmet.

"You were a risk," he admitted with a shrug, the helmet (of course) not betrayed anything. His voice was calm, even as he continued softly. "I have a particular...proclivity for picking up foundlings," he said with a tilt of his head toward Grogu, who cooed at the mention of him.

You lifted an eyebrow. "I'm not a foundling, though."

If you could have seen his eyes, you were almost positive that they'd be giving you a look that said, are you sure? Instead, he only spoke in his perpetually smooth voice. "You were lost, though, mesh'la."

You still weren't sure what each word in Mando'a meant—he'd been dropping a few words here and there, as if he knew you couldn't interpret them—but you blushed all the same. Before you knew it, your hands were releasing their grip on one another and reaching up to comb through the curls at the base of his neck.

They were softer than you'd imagined; smooth and thick in your grip. "Alright," you said gently, "maybe I was. I never got to thank you, you know."

Your hands were moving on their accord now, silently twirling the curls around the tips of your fingers. You were used to his silent, immobile exterior, so you didn't think he'd be able to feel the way you pressed your hand to the back of his neck. He'd never said anything before that gave the impression that he was aware of your ministrations, so when he leaned back into your touch then, something strong and addiction bloomed in your gut.

When he spoke, you were surprised to hear how shaky his voice was. After three years of hearing nothing but steady syllables fall from his masked lips, you nearly flinched at the stutter in his voice.

"Thank me?" he said quietly. "For..." you could have sworn you felt his heartbeat flutter rapidly in his neck when he trailed off. "For what?"

You pulled your hand away, pretending not to notice the way he shuddered at the loss of touch, his shoulders slumping as if in a pained relaxation. You hid your smirk. "You're not seriously asking that, right? Without you, I'd probably be dead by now." Or worse, you reflected with a quiet pang in your chest.

Din's response was quick this time, an unusual—but not unwelcome—surprise. "And without your perfectly timed luck, I might be without a ship." His voice was thick, trembling with something that might have sounded like desire had it been someone else speaking.

You didn't even think Din had the capacity to know something as heavy as desire. Well, not that he was incapable of feeling desire, just...you'd never thought about what he might do if he did feel it. Would he shove the temptations down, destined to die in the corners of his mind and body?

Your cheeks warmed at your next thought. Perhaps he took care of it himself in the dead of night on the Razor Crest, or on those mysteriously long patrol walks that he insisted on doing alone.

"Yeah, well..." your answer was pitiful and you knew it. But you were too busy looking at the way his body was slumped in his seat, facing forward despite every limb beginning to turn toward you, as if you were a magnetic beacon.

His fingers twitched in his gloves, angling toward you just as his knees began to do the same thing. "Will you..." he trailed off, clearing his throat awkwardly. "Mesh'la," he breathed, and he leaned to the side, as if his shoulder was chasing your touch. "Put it back."

You were going to ask what he meant, but you didn't have to. Even with his helmet on, you could practically see the pleading in his body language. Here he was, a devout Mandalorian, begging you to put your hands back on him.

"Please," he said quietly, almost a question. It sounded so unlike him that you wondered briefly if he'd been killed and replaced with an imposter. But by the way that his hand trembled as he took his focus away from flying the Crest and moved it toward you...this was Din.

"You...okay?" you asked, but you obliged his request in return, replacing your hand at the base of his neck. You watched in an unfurling dizzying sense of satisfaction as he reached up his own gloved hand to cover yours, squeezing it gently. "Din," you started, but he shook his head.

"I've never disobeyed the Way of the Mandalore," he said, his voice muffled under the mask. You strained your eyes, wishing you could see beneath the beskar. "I've never wanted to. Not before..." he brought your hand around to rest on his chestplate, and you could feel the pressure of his chest leaning into your touch. "Not before I knew what it might feel like to want someone like this."

Your eyes widened, but you didn't pull your hand away. "You...what?"

His head tilted down. "For once, I don't know how to manage this." He stood up, and suddenly he was towering over you, the cloth under his armor making your fingers itch to tear it off. "How do I manage this?"

"I..." you couldn't hide your shock. "I don't know. It's...isn't it against your religion? It's not the Way."

Din shook his head. "No, it's not." He spread his hand down your wrist and extended it toward your own chest, the leather of his glove seeping into your skin. "But I've also never told anyone my name. Never heard it spoken since I was a child."

You swallowed roughly. "So?"

He huffed a chuckle. Lifting your hands to his helmet, he let your fingers find the divots of the beskar. You didn't miss the way his chest shuddered with a stuttering breath at your touch. "So," he said, "to hell with the Way. For tonight, at least. I need to know you in every way I wish I could."

Such a harrowing request, given the circumstances. But you couldn't stop your hands from tracing the lines of his masked face. "Din..."

"Please." His voice cracked over the single syllable, and it was all you needed.

To hell with the Way, your thoughts echoed his words, and you nodded softly. "Alright," you acquiesced. With one look down, you saw the tent growing in his pants, sending a spike of desire down your spine, settling in your core. "How'll you have me?" you asked.

He let out a soft noise that sounded like a whimper. "Any way that I can," he choked out, his hand returning to your wrist and enclosing it in his grip. "I'll have you any way you'll have me."

You could hardly speak, so you didn't. With a gentle nudge, you pushed him back into his seat. When he sat back, his legs fell open; there was an inviting space between them.

Standing in the spot, just inches from his face, you stared into the black mass of his helmet, hoping you'd get a glimpse of his face. Of course, you knew he would only go as far as he wanted to. If the mask was destined to remain, then...so be it.

With your eyes on his, you moved his hands to your waist, pressing them to your skin and enjoying the feeling of his leather against your body.

He shook his head. "Take them off," he said, again with that whimpering voice. "Please."

You nodded wordlessly and shed his hands of the barriers, heat pooling in your core at the sight of long, thick fingers, his skin finally exposed to you. Returning his hands to your waist, you tilted your head back at the sensation. You were never going to forget what his skin felt against yours.

The melody of shuddering breaths that fell from his lips was unreal, and you wanted to soak up every second of it. Without more than a second thought, you slid your legs over his, straddling his hips and pressing your chest to his chestplate. His hands remained on your waist, but he let them wander, curling them around to cup your ass.

The feeling of his hands on your body made you unconsciously roll your hips forward, which released a strangled moan from his lips. "Oh, god," he mumbled. "Mesh'la, please take it off."

You paused. Your hands fell to your lap, and your eyes were wider than saucers in the reflection of his helmet. "What?"

He picked up your hands in his own, the rub of skin against skin an intoxicating intimacy. "Please," he begged. "If I'm going to touch you like this, I need to see you, cyar'ika. Nothing in the way."

You were going to argue further, but you couldn't ignore the pulsing need that was clouding your thoughts, the same need that pushed your hips further down into his lap. It was impossible to miss the way his cock twitched against your clit, eliciting a soft moan from your lips.

“Are you—”

“Don’t fuckin’ ask me if I’m sure,” he begged, and he squeezed your hips under his hands. “Never been more sure, mesh’la.”

This time it was your turn to let out a shaky breath. “Okay,” you whispered, more to bolster your own confidence than his own. His resolve was clearly rather strong in this matter, and nothing would change his mind. 

With a hand on either side of the helmet, you gently pulled it up and away from his face, hardly able to believe that he’d agreed to let you rid him of his every barrier. For a moment, as each inch of skin was revealed to you, you caught yourself frantically wondering what he might look like. 

Would he look like anyone else? Would he look familiar to you in that way that only lovers can? Or would he be hiding a deformed brow bone or an abnormally small nose or a crude smile?

Of course, you shouldn’t have even worried. When the helmet lifted off of his head and you let it fall to the floor with a hard thud, you smiled at the face that blinked back at you in wonder. With those brown strands that were just long enough to hang down over his forehead, and the matching brown eyes that twinkled with the moonlight in his pupils, Din Djarin was exquisite.

“I knew it,” you hummed, your eyes tracing every line on his face, every strand of hair that clung charmingly to his forehead. 

His response was a strangled moan, and his eyes fluttered closed of their own accord when you dragged a finger along his jaw, then the hooked line of his nose. “Knew what?”

“I knew you’d be one of the pretty ones,” you grinned, and you leaned down to press your lips to his, swallowing his groan of ecstasy.

You drank it down like the sweetest liquor, the sound pulling your own moan from your chest. His lips were chapped and dry from lack of care, but his mouth was warm and wet and his tongue was deliciously shy as he darted it towards yours. His hands stuttered as they pressed further up your chest and felt for your breasts. You weren’t sure how long he’d last; his chest was already heaving. 

“Din,” you pulled back with a grin. “Din,” you repeated when his eyes remained closed. “Thought you wanted to look at me?”

“I do,” he said, his voice choking in his throat. “I do, mesh’la, I just…I think I might come in my damn suit if I look at those lips too long.”

You cooed, letting a hand search for the roots of his hair, finding a home on his scalp. You curled your fingers in the strands and watched his eyes squeeze shut, his jaw go slack, and felt his hips buck up into yours. “You’re so sensitive, baby,” you hummed, your mind running wild with thoughts of what this could mean. 

“Never been touched like this,” he mumbled, voice cracking again. “Feels perfect, mesh’la.”

“I need you to look at me, Din,” you nodded. “It’ll keep feeling good, I promise. I just need you to look at me.”

When his eyes opened, you could have fallen apart right there at the sight of his glassy brown depths. His lip quivered and you almost thought he’d cry, but then he was letting his hand fall from your chest to your waistband, trailing his thumb along the skin there. “Can I?” he asked gently. 

Nodding, you stood up. “Just keep breathing, pretty boy,” you said softly. “I’ll make you feel good. Show you just how good it can be.” You guided his hands to your waist and let him pull your pants to your ankles, revealing the front of your glistening slit to him. 

Din was just starting to understand the drug-like effects of physical touch, so you weren’t surprised when he leaned forward, fell to his knees, and pressed his forehead to the soft skin of your stomach, breathing deeply as if he were a zealot bent to pray at the altar. 

“C’mere,” you whispered, though unable to hide the growing smirk on your face. There seemed to be nothing more addicting than the sight of the Mandalorian on his knees before you. “Sit back down for me, baby,” you said, tilting his chin up to look at you. “Take those pants off, they look awfully restricting.”

He nodded quickly and obeyed, slipping his pants down to his knees as he sat back on his chair. It was downright sinful—the beskar on his chest but his helmet removed and his cock springing free, the tip red and angry and leaking. “Please,” he begged. “I—”

“I know,” you breathed, stepping closer to him. “We’re gonna make each other feel good now, yeah?”

Din nodded once more, his eyes fluttering shut. “Please, please.”

Well, how were you going to deny him then? 

You straddled him once more, your clit throbbing at the sight of his cock underneath you. But rather than shock him with the feeling of your pussy milking him for all he was worth, you hovered over him, just enough that the head of his cock lay just an inch from your entrance. 

“Mesh’la,” he begged, “please don’t tease. I’ll be good. I’ll make you feel good, I swear to everything I’ve ever believed in—”

A finger pressed to his lips, you shook your head. “I know,” you repeated. “Deep breaths for me, Din.” 

He inhaled sharply and shoved his breath out of his chest. For a moment, his eyes cleared. 

“Good,” you encouraged him, relishing in the look of his wide eyes at the praise. “Such a pretty boy, baby.” You moved his hand to your core, guiding his fingers to your clit. “Rub little circles for me, baby. Make me feel good and I’ll make you feel good.”

He obliged quickly, rubbing tentative circles to your clit in a way that had you smiling gently, loving the sacrilege you were participating in. “Is that g—oh!”

Din’s question was interrupted by your hand reaching down to grip his cock, delivering a quick stroke and making his hips stutter. He tried his best to lift his hips from the chair, clearly aiming for your entrance, but one hand on the beskar on his chest had him sitting back. 

“It’s okay, baby,” you cooed, “just like that. Just touch me for a while.”

Ever the gentleman, Din kept his eyes on you and his hand on your pussy, pulling sweet sounds from your lips just as you wrecked him beneath you. Your thumb slid against his tip and he almost came; you could tell by the way his breath caught in his throat and his eyes squeezed shut, lip trapped between his teeth. 

You wanted his fingers to wander toward your dripping entrance, but you knew he might not last long enough for any more foreplay. Next time, you thought smugly. 

Now…now you needed him inside you. 

“Gentle, baby,” you reminded him when he gripped your hip too tightly. You didn’t want to tell him you enjoyed the near-bruising strength; that would be for another time. You could already see that you were close to losing him, and you weren’t going to end this experience without riding him until the both of you saw stars. “One more deep breath, yeah?” 

He was a mess of tumbling words in Mando’a that you didn’t understand, and his brow was furiously furrowed, as if it was taking all of his focus not to come on your hand. As a matter of fact, it probably was taking all of his focus. “Please, mesh’la,” he said again. 

You wondered briefly if you’d begin answering that now; treating it as your name. Mesh’la. 

“Deep breath, baby,” you reminded him, and when he obeyed, you sank your hips towards his. The tip of his cock slid in with no resistance; you were wetter than you’d ever been in your life. “Good boy,” you moaned as you kept your hand on his neck, softly cupping the underside of his jaw to look at you. “So fuckin’ pretty like this.”

The stretch of his cock inside you was delicious, and pleasure licked sharply at your insides, begging for a quick release. You knew he wouldn’t be able to hold himself together much longer based on the whimpers that still crumbled from his throat, broken and jagged. 

“So fuckin’ pretty?” he repeated, his voice a high squeak. He gripped your hips and threw his head back. “So fuckin’ pretty for you?”

Your breath rushed out of your chest in a strong blow and you had to take a deep breath yourself to calm down. “All for me, Din, that’s it,” you continued, and you lifted your hips up. Dropping them back into his lap, you soaked up the feeling of being filled so completely by his cock. With every shred of patience left in your body, you pushed your lips back to his and tasted his moans on his tongue. 

His hips began lifting into your own, the only clue you’d get to his desperation for more. Without a word, you began moving faster, more rhythmically, as you bounced gently on his cock. With the base of his cock pulsing against your clit at every drop of your hips, you were approaching that edge quicker and quicker. “Din,” you moaned, “baby, I’m gonna—”

“Please,” he said, “I want you to feel good, mesh’la. Use me, please, use me, please…”

You were sure your brain short circuited. With no more patience left in your bones, you picked up the pace and chased your own orgasm, knowing he wasn’t far behind. With every squelch of your pussy on his cock, your moans became less coherent, and you leaned your head forward against his neck. 

Pulling back to press a kiss to his jaw, you felt his loins tense beneath you. Something nearly snapped inside you at the sound and sight and sensation of his pleasure so close to release; at the knowledge that it was you who had done this to him. “Good,” you mumbled against his jaw, getting closer to his ear. “Pretty boy, just for me,” you mumbled. 

Din’s chest tightened and his moans became longer and more high-pitched, true whimpers if you’d ever heard one. “Mesh’la,” he begged, “Mesh’la, I—”

You dipped your head down and, while grinding your hips back and forth on his cock at a feverish pace, you darted your tongue out to his neck. Licking a stripe from the crevice of his neck to the spot just behind the soft part of his ear, you groaned in his ear as you crumbled on him, releasing the tension in your body as you came hard.

Din was ruined beneath you, with his neck bobbing and his eyes shut, his head thrown back. Mouth opened in a wide moan, his voice broken over the sound, you felt his release sink into your fluttering walls. He let out a deep cry of words that you didn’t recognize, but you blushed all the same. With the way that his eyes glossed over when he said it, you were sure it was something that reeked of sin and sweat and sacrilege. 

“So good,” you mumbled again, “you’ve done so good for me, Din.” Your face tucked itself into the crook of his neck, and you inhaled the heady scent that belonged only to him. You sat motionless on his lap, but you could still feel his head pulse inside you at the overstimulation. “Did that feel good?” you asked, your hand reaching up to smooth down his hair comfortingly.

He let out a breathless laugh. “If this is sin, I’ll want more of it,” he replied, his arms snaking around your middle to tug your chest closer to him. “I’ll never know how to thank you,” he finished, sighing deeply. His eyes twinkled at you when you pulled away to look at him. 

You shook your head. “No need,” you assured him. “Just catch your breath, brave Mandalorian. Then we’ll talk.”

He nodded, his eyelids growing heavier with the expense of energy now catching up with him. His cock had grown soft inside you, but he made no move to lift you from him. “I did well?” he asked. This wasn’t surprising; you’d known him to be quietly confident, but the Mandalorian was never one to pass up the opportunity for someone to reassure his talents.

You grinned and leaned forward to press your lips to his hooked nose, fighting the urge to nip at it with your teeth. Next time, you reminded yourself. “You did well,” you nodded. “Feeling okay?”

He splayed his hands on your back and inhaled near your chest, his face buried into the soft skin of your breasts. “Never better,” he reassured you, rubbing his hands along your spine. “So sweet to me, baby,” he murmured, repeating your own affection back to you. 

The two of you remained like that, just wrapped together in a mess of limbs and sweat and come mingling together. When he began to wince with the overstimulation, you lifted off of his cock but remained in his lap. You pulled back and leaned your forehead against his. You watched his lips, plump and sitting perfectly, waiting to be kissed again. 

“What does mesh’la mean?” you asked instead, the word strange and unfamiliar on your tongue.

He looked at you for a long time, bringing a finger up to trace the line of your mouth. “Put your lips on mine again and I’ll teach you,” he offered casually, as if his pupils weren’t still blown wide, his eyelashes still fluttering from the power of his release. 

You smirked. “This is the Way, huh?”

For once in his life, Din Djarin smiled at you. “This is the Way.”

tysm for reading! so glad to be back, i'm sorry if the smut scene seemed rushed and out of pace! again: i was hungover. pls forgive. lemme know what you think!

adding tags here cause i'm going grocery shopping at 8:30pm BYEEEE

this is a good morning fic for @thetriumphantpanda and the aftercare bit at the end was specifically for @cavillscurls i know u crave it girl

the rest of the taggies: @mingiast @iluvurfather @cupofjoel @morning-star-joy @darkroastjoel @tightjeansjavi @chaotic-mystery @dinsdjrn @huffle-punk @tommymilllers @milly-louise @struig @butiknewyoudlinger @alejaa-a @worhols @thegreat-annamaria @easaud @country2212 @sleepdeprived-feelalived @pertinentpostmortem @lailaispunk

[beenbaanbuun]

punishment - opposites attract universe

words - 3.9k

genre - smut

warnings - fem!reader restraints, riding, guidance, cumming in underwear, the usual nicknames (dove, darling, lamb, good girl, etc), nipple play (m!receiving) insecurity, comfort sex, creampie, clit play, i think thats it but please tell me if otherwise!!!

“You can tie it tighter than that, dove,” Hongjoong sighs, sounding almost disappointed as you try your hardest to pin his wrists to the headboard. A part of you wants to look behind you to where Seonghwa sits comfortably in a nearby armchair, but even with your most pathetic pleas, you doubt he’d be willing to step in and help. This is your punishment after all. You made your bed, now you have to lie in it. “Especially if you're going to use this flimsy stuff; I like it to bite a little.”

He thrusts his rigid cock up against your bare core as he says the word bite, the pearlescent liquid that spills from the tip smearing messily against your clit. You bite your lip to withhold the moan, but it doesn't matter; Hongjoong can read the pleasure on your face loud and clear anyway. It's in the way your eyes flutter closed for just a second or two, brows furrowing and forehead wrinkling. He chuckles teasingly, taunting you with the fact that even though you're the one tying him down, he still has the power. 

“What, did that feel good, dove?” he asks, a smirk evident in his tone. You don't respond, unsure as to whether or not you’d be able to keep yourself from breaking down and begging to switch places with the man. Instead, you simply huff out a breath and open your eyes, ready to get back to the task at hand. This won’t stop until you make him cum, and devils below you need this to stop.

You weren't made for this. You're a taker, not a giver; built to lie there prettily and moan and cum until your mommy and daddy are satiated. How you long for your lovers to tug at you until you're lay how they want, for Seonghwa to pin you to his chest as Hongjoong buries himself in your pussy, for Hongjoong to whisper sweet nothings whilst Seonghwa fucks Hongjoong’s load back into your weeping hole. Maybe you should’ve thought about that before giving Yeosang that blowjob in the dining room.

Maybe you should’ve tried harder to convince San not to say a word.

Seonghwa tuts behind you, returning your mind to the task at hand. The pretty pink ribbons won't tie themselves around Hongjoong’s wrists and you know that. It doesn't stop you from letting out a pathetic whine though. “Don’t start with me, Lamb,” he purrs dangerously, “you put yourself in this position, not me,” he takes a sip of his red wine, smacking his lips before swallowing it down. You can't see him but you just know that the red stain he’d bound to wear upon his lips must look immaculate. Demons, how you want to be in Hongjoong’s position right now. “It's hardly my fault you think you’re too good to obey instructions. Now hop to it, Darling; the sooner you do what you're told, the sooner this will all end.”

He’s right, you admit to yourself as your fingers begin to work on the knots again. Just make Hongjoong cum and this will all be over.

You tug on the knot to tighten it, sparing a glance towards Hongjoongs expression every now and then to try and gauge it correctly. It doesn't go unnoticed by him, the man’s smirk growing with every passing look in his direction. It's the same look he gives you when you're writhing beneath him, whining out ‘daddy’ as you beg for more. He’s in charge then, just as he's in charge now. He might be the one getting tied up, but he certainly isn't the one who's going to be crying before the night is over. What’s a punishment without a few tears here and there?

“Stop looking at me and focus on the knot,” he says, his tone cocky and annoying, “you’re big and brave enough to play with your pet without permission but you have to have reassurance when you're tying a pretty little bow? Where has all that boldness gone, Dove?” 

Being bold is the last thing on your mind right now. Tie the knot, make Hongjoong cum, get pampered for being good and taking your punishment well; that's all you care about right now. You can be a brat another day, at this exact moment in time, you just need to be good. You give the knot one last sharp tug before deciding that's enough. You finish it off with a bow before slipping a finger beneath it to test the tightness. It's what Seonghwa always does when he dresses you up in pretty bows purely for the purpose of gazing upon you like you're a work of art. It only feels right to give Hongjoong the same treatment.

He gives you a pleased hum, his wicked smile morphing into something much softer for just a moment or two. Had you blinked, you would've perhaps missed it. You’re glad you didn't.

“Bold isn't what I would call what our precious Darling did, Mi Amor,” Seonghwa says. The chair creeks, the sound of Seonghwa standing echoing around the room. Your breath hitches in anticipation as the familiar click, click, click of his healed pumps grows louder and louder. You feel his breath brush against your bare skin as he leans down, “Keeping your escapades a secret is hardly something a bold individual would do, now is it Lamb?” His saccharine voice sticks to your brain like melted candy. Gone is his usual kind sweetness, replaced with something artificial and too good to be true. It's a stark contrast to the barely-there kiss he presses to your cheek–a reminder that you’re still their good girl, even if they are being a little mean. 

“No, mommy,” you whimper out just as he pulls his face away from yours. There's a chuckle, more akin to his regular cadence than you expected. It's soft and buttery and warm, everything you know Seonghwa to be outside of punishments. You melt as he dives in for another kiss, nuzzling his nose against your temple in a way that has you forgetting that you're even in trouble in the first place. 

“Good girl,” he whispers into your skin, cushiony lips tickling your skin before pulling away once more, this time for good, “It's a shame you only start behaving when you have to face the consequences of misbehaving, though. You have to be made to squirm a little before you decide to listen, hm?” a hand trails its way up your spine making you shudder. The way you grind down on Hongjoong is unintentional, but it still fetches a deep guttural grunt from his lips. It stops your heart in place, the sound so beautiful that you think it makes you fall in love with him all over again. It's nothing new; each day you find something like that. Something that makes your heart speed up in your chest just like it did when you lay eyes on them for the very first time.

You want to do it again, but Seonghwa’s fingers move up to the back of your head and lace themselves in your hair. You brace yourself for the tug that’s bound to come any second now. It still makes you wince when he tightens his fist. 

“Now behave for me, won't you? Ride your daddy until he fills you up nice and full of cum, Lamb,” the hand that isn't in your hair reaches over your shoulder and dives down until it's resting atop your tummy. He drums his fingers against the plush flesh before letting them come to a standstill just below your navel. “It shouldn’t be so hard since you obviously know best. You’re so independent, right? You can do this without our help.” And just like that his touch is gone and he steps away. You hear him retreat back to his chair, the creak of the old leather letting you know when he’s sunk back down onto it. 

It feels bizarrely lonely, in a way. Sitting there with no soft touches from either of your lovers, having to move and think for yourself. There's no warm hand to hold your waist and guide you, no whispers in your ear to send your overactive brain silent. You're cold and lonely and devils you're thinking way too much. You want it to stop, so with a shaky breath, you use Hongjoong’s chest to stabilise yourself as you push your hips up. With one hand you line yourself up with his cock and sit, moaning as he stretches you out. It's a little painful; they normally spend an age prepping you before even thinking about using their cocks. Perhaps they thought you and Yeosang had gone further than a simple blowjob. Maybe they didn't realise you hadn't already been opened up. 

“So tight, darling,” Hongjoong muses, his face screwing up in pleasure as he bottoms out, completely sheathed within your walls. You do what you assume is the right thing and tense around him; he gives you a moan and you can't help but let it inflate your ego just a touch. It might be easier than you assumed to make him cum. Maybe you’ll be in his arms before you even know it! “But I don't recall you being asked to just warm me up. Ride me, pretty girl. Make me cum inside your tight fucking cunt, hm?”

You almost whimper at his instructions. Despite your newfound belief in yourself, you still don't want to be in this position. Your cunt might be stuffed full but you still feel weirdly empty. With a sigh, you remind yourself that the quicker you make him cum, the quicker you get taken care of. You brace your hands on his chest and grind your hips against his. He gives you a contented groan, eyes fluttering closed with pleasure.

You can do this; you can get what you want. 

You continue to move your hips back and forth, tucking your bottom lip between your teeth as the pain slowly turns into pleasure. It's not hard to find a careful rhythm but it certainly is to maintain it. The moment his tip grinds up against that divine spot within you, you stutter, your movements almost lagging for a moment or two before the man beneath you bucks his hips up into yours. It serves as a reminder of your task, and you return to your prior pace once more. 

But it's not enough. Hongjoong is moaning and sighing but the longer you continue the more you become aware that he is no closer to orgasm than he was when you started riding him. In fact, that initial motion, the first grind of your hips; that's probably when he felt it most, the urge to spill his seed inside of your tight hole. You can move as much as you want, change your pace as often as you feel necessary, but nothing is going to alter the fact that you simply cannot make him cum. 

It's a harsh reality to face, and you can’t help but let it go to your head. You feel almost worthless, although that's probably too harsh of a word. Useless may be more suited to the emotions rushing through your body. If you can't make Hongjoong cum then what? You don't cook or clean, or provide any income. You're not as business-minded as Hongjoong and you don't have the tender touch that Seonghwa gives to all his plants. You’ve never been skilled at following instructions and caring for people like San is and you can hardly fill Yeosang’s shoes when it comes to being, well, Yeosang. What exactly are you good for?

It's almost laughable, the idea that something so small could set off a whirlwind of insecurity in your mind. You can't make your lover cum by yourself, so what? It's not like you've never made him cum, right? You made him cum just this morning… You try and hone in on that, but it doesn't quite work. If you make him cum by lying there and looking pretty, are you really making him cum at all? Or is he making himself cum using your body…

Your hips come to a standstill, your pelvis sinking down until all your weight rests on Hongjoong’s. “I can't make you cum,” you state simply, “I'm trying so hard and I-” your voice cracks and you have to stop to suck in a deep breath. One that you hope will clear the lump in your throat. It doesn't, and you can't swallow it down; you squeeze your eyes shut and the dam just… breaks. “I can't make you cum, Hongjoong.”

You miss the way he winces at the sound of his own name. It's something so small but it feels so wrong to hear it when his cock is buried deep within you. Perhaps it was the sound of the blood rushing through your ears that blocks the sound of him whispering the word back to you as his face grows concerned. Your gaze drops to his stomach and you don't see the worried glance he passes over your shoulder to his husband, still nursing his wine with a thoughtful look on his face. Seonghwa frowns as Hongjoong, usually so sure of himself, looks to him for guidance. Truth be told, Seonghwa needs guidance in this situation too. He glances at your sad form and-

Oh…

Guidance.

“Lamb,” he coos as he rises from his chair, voice soft yet somehow still dominant. There's no hint of condescension left, nor is there any sign of teasing; it's just pure, undiluted Seonghwa. Like a warm shower, it washes over you and you heave in a sob. So gentle, so kind, and for what? For someone who has no use outside of sitting and looking pretty. You hate it. “What's wrong with my precious girl, hm? Since when did you doubt yourself so much?”

The click, click, click of his heels rings through the room again, except this time its less like the daunting countdown of a ticking time bomb and more like the familiar grandfather clock that sits just down the hallway outside of Yeosang’s room. It brings you comfort, acting as a palm tree in your tsunami of emotions. You grab onto the sound and don't let go until it suddenly comes to a stop by your side. Your heart stops as the sound stops, but then a warm pair of lips descend on your cheek and everything is just a little bit better again. 

“Since when does my darling Lamb give up just because you can't do something?” a finger trails up your spine, stopping just as it reaches the nape of your neck. It twists itself into your hair, tugging just enough so that your eyes meet Hongjoong’s again. Big and brown and full of empathy. Your heart breaks for him; he shouldn't feel bad for something that's your fault. “My lamb killed nearly all the cacti in her Mommy’s greenhouse just because you wanted to learn how to garden; you haven't given that up even though your newest cactus is waterlogged and rotting.” 

Try as you might, you can't see the relevance of Seonghwa’s anecdote. So what? You're bad at gardening; it's just another thing to add to the list. 

“And you've not once beaten your Daddy at a game of chess, have you?” he gives you a beat or two to mumble out an affirmation, taking that time to kick his shoes off and crawl into the bed himself. He positions himself right behind you, one hand still nestled in your hair, holding your gaze on Hongjoong, and the other snaking its way around your waist. “Yet you don't let that stop you from challenging him to a match every single day, my love. You know why that is?”

You shake your head and Seonghwa gives you a little chuckle. 

“Because you just don't give up, Lamb,” he pushes his chest flush against your back, grinding his own body into yours to guide your hips. Hongjoong grunts as Seonghwa forces you to pick your movements up once more; slow and sensual yet somehow still firm, just like the man himself. “I actually don't think you're capable of knowing when to stop,” another roll of his hips has Hongjoong’s cock bumping into your most sensitive spot. You break your sad little sniffles with a moan. “Sometimes you just need a little guidance in the right direction, Lamb.”

With Seonghwa rutting against your back, you find it a little easier to let go. To let your thoughts melt away into whispers as you let the pleasure fill your mind instead. They’re still there, reminding you that even now you're not the one giving him pleasure and pushing Hongjoong to the edge. Ever the empath, though, Seonghwa puts your mind at ease with a series of kisses to your jawline. When he bites down just below your ear, it's like those thoughts never existed in the first place. You moan, the sound of it blocking out the bad. 

Hongjoong purrs beneath you, chest heaving beneath your hands that are splayed across his pectorals. You get an idea which you execute without a second thought. He'd just look too pretty with crescent moons painted across his pale skin so you don't even try and stop your fingers from curling and your nails digging in. He lets out a shaky breath, his eyes scrunching closed with some sort of masochistic pleasure. That part was all you, you tell the cruel thoughts in your mind as you drag your nails down his chest to make him whimper. The sound he makes as they catch against his nipples is unholy, as are the soft moans Seonghwa chants into your ear each time his hard cock presses into your lower spine. 

The voice in your head goes silent. 

“Fuck, dove,” Hongjoong voice is strained, barely breaking through the string of grunts and curses he lets out every time your fingers brush against the stiffened buds on his chest, “so good; you're so good. You're our darling, aren't you?” you nod, fully convinced that every word he tells you is the truth, “say it, dove. Tell us you're our darling.”

“I’m your darling,” your voice catches as Seonghwa snakes his hand down to your pussy, fingers spreading your folds until you’re sure Hongjoong has an unobstructed view of your swollen clit. A lithe finger begins to toy with it and your body goes limp in Seonghwa’s grasp. 

“That’s it,” he murmurs as his finger moves expertly against you, “you're our darling, aren't you? So good for us, letting us push you around and please you. Letting us use your body to pleasure ourselves,” you moan in sync with Hongjoong, punctuating his sentence, “so what you're not good at riding yet; I can name a million other ways you make us happy.”

As if to emphasise his own words, he sighs into your ear, the motion of his hips becoming sloppy before stopping entirely. His breathing is ragged in your ear as he frees the hand from your hair and moves it to your hip to continue guiding you. He came, it seems, messily in his panties in a way that seems so unlike his tidy nature. The implications have you blushing; it seems as though he just couldn't hold himself back. 

You don't have long to dwell on it though, not with the way his hands draw you back into that relentless rhythm and his fingers draw pretty pictures on your clit. It has you melting all over again, barely giving you time to form a relevant thought before making you squirm on Hongjoong’s cock. You're close, and you can tell your Daddy is too. It's written on his face, clear as day. 

Hongjoong bucks his hips into yours just as Seonghwa leans in to place a few kisses against your temple. It's sweet, but it's undercut by the familiar warmth that fills you up, erupting from the cock that your daddy keeps nestled tightly within your cunt. You bite down on your lip to hold your own moan back, wanting nothing to interrupt the beautiful sound Hongjoong makes. Seonghwa’s movement slows to a stop, letting you just warm his husband’s soft cock for now. 

“Beautiful girl,” Hongjoong breathes out, chest heaving and eyes glazed over with adoration, “the prettiest place for me to put my cum, aren't you.”

“So pretty,” Seonghwa agrees, speeding up his fingers in just that right way to make the knot in your stomach tighten, “and so good, taking her punishment like the good girl she is.” He taps his finger against your clit and you can't help but squirm. Hongjoong growls, bucking his own hips from the overstimulation. Seonghwa giggles prettily as he draws you further and further to the edge, “Tell her she's a good girl, Mi Amor.”

“Such a good girl.” 

You pull in a breath as you feel your orgasm wash over you like a wave. It pulls you down into the depths of pleasure, filling every cell of your being with that familiar buzz that comes hand-in-hand with good sex. You feel it every morning, every night, your two—and a half, if you count the werewolf who is no doubt pacing outside the door, meagrely awaiting his own punishment—lovers taking such good care of you. They fill you with their seed, remind you of your place between them, push you to your limits before bringing you in with endless amounts of love. They take care of you, and it finally seems to click in your brain that that's your place in this weird little family; they take care of you, and they want to take care of you. They like it. The part of your mind that says otherwise sinks into oblivion along with the remnants of your orgasm until all that's left is you, empty-headed and panting in Seonghwa’s arms and on Hongjoong’s cock. 

Exactly where you belong. 

Hongjoong lets out a chuckle, breaking the silence that had settled over the three of you, “well that was certainly eventful,” he says as he tilts his head back to get a view of the knots you tied. Despite being tighter than you originally intended to tie them, it's easy for him to slip free. Such a gentle little creature, he muses to himself, a dove through and through, “You seemed to have a lot on your mind; would you care to share?” 

He takes a moment to move his hands, easing up the stiffness in his wrists before they travel to your hips and interlock seamlessly with Seonghwa’s. They hold you like you're porcelain, precious and priceless. It makes you light up inside. 

“Yes, lamb,” the man behind you sighs, “I’d rather like to know what happened. I knew you weren't exactly going to enjoy being on top, but I never expected it to affect you quite so negatively. What exactly is going on in that precious mind of yours?”

You hum as you lean back against his body, wishing he wasn't still wearing clothes so you could feel just a smidge of his soft skin against your own. You'd have to make do with the warmth that permeates the silk; it's just enough to have you curling into his frame. “Nothing anymore,” you say, truthfully, “it was just a lapse of sanity; nothing for you to worry about.”

“Are you sure?” Seonghwa asks.

“Positive,” you giggle, wriggling gleefully on Hongjoong’sover-sensitivee cock until he frees his hand from Seonghwa’s and places a light spank upon the flesh of your thigh. It isn't enough to rid you of your giddiness, but it's certainly enough to still your movements, “I think you fucked the insanity out of me…”

[luvh4nji]

𝐄𝐍𝐇𝐘𝐏𝐄𝐍 + 𝐂𝐔𝐃𝐃𝐋𝐄𝐒

warning: none really, just fluff :-)

heeseung ; he loves holding you, he needs to hold you. it's such a big comfort for him to be able to feel you in his arms. he doesn't seem like the spooning type, he likes to have you lay on top of him, his arms wrapped around your back, hugging you close to him. the weight of your body on top of him is comforting to him, knowing you're there with him, that he can take care of you and keep you safe.

"you tired?" he asks, bringing a hand up to move stray strands of hair out of your face, grinning softly at how cute you looked when you were trying to stay awake. "you can go to sleep, y'know. 'm not going anywhere."

jay ; he likes to face you. he likes to have you curled into his chest, but facing towards him so he can look at you. he seems like the type to really enjoy the intimacy it brings. and he likes to talk — about anything, really. he likes listening to your voice, the way it gets softer than usual when you're that close to each other, the conversation only shared in the space between you. and he loves when you ask him to talk, loving the way his voice sounds in the quiet of your room.

"...it was a pretty normal day." he finished, running a thumb over the crest of your cheek, admiring how you slowly blinked up at him, a content smile on your features. "sorry i didn't have anything interesting to report." he joked, although it fell flat, his heart beating faster in his chest when you shook your head, telling him you liked hearing about him, about whatever he wanted to talk about.

jake ; he's the type to always have his hands on you in some way. if you're together, there is never a moment where he doesn't have some type of physical contact with you, alone or otherwise. he doesn't mind the pda, if you don't. he likes to feel you, to have you under his hands, to know that you're there with him, doing it more in a subconscious way than anything else.

"what d'you want, babe?" he'd ask, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind, resting his head on your shoulder as you look at the restaurant's menu. he presses a gentle kiss to the crook of your neck as you answer, pulling away and grabbing your hand. "i'll order for you, lovey."

sunghoon ; he likes his space. he is definitely not the most touchy person, but he gets past it for you, especially if you are a touchy person. he thinks you're so cute when you get excited to see him, running over and wrapping your arms around his neck when he walks into your apartment, pulling him down so you can press sweet, little kisses all over his face.

"missed me?" he asks, hesitating only a little bit before placing his hands on your waist, grinning down at you. his ego swells so much when you nod against his chest, mumbling a soft affirmation, before taking his hand and leading him over to the couch, pushing him down and climbing into his lap, resting your head on his shoulder. and he just gives you this impossibly soft smile, running his hands up and down your back. and he can't help the way his heart swells when you ask him to talk about the tour, tell you everything about the places he went.

sunoo ; he's a very cuddly boy in general. there's hardly a night where he doesn't show up at your apartment, or invite you over to the dorms, to cuddle with him. he likes to wrap his body fully around, preferably laying on your stomach while you lay on the bed, his body trapping yours to the mattress. and he absolutely will not let you get up, unless you make a very convincing case.

"no, you don't." he replies when you tell him you have to use the bathroom, his voice muffled by the skin of your neck. "you're just saying that." he mumbles, raising his head so he could look at you. and you have to practically beg him, before he's rolling off of you, huffing at the ceiling. "just say you hate me and go." but he stops pouting when you lean down to press a kiss to his plush lips before heading to the bathroom.

jungwon ; big spoon. he loves having you wrapped up in his arms, hugging you close to his chest, his face stuffed into your neck, the smell of your shampoo. he likes being that close to you, having you in his arms, being able to hold you as close as he possibly can, as he can physically get you, it's a nice feeling for him. he especially likes reaching around and lacing your hands together.

"you comfortable?" he asks, relishing in the way you snuggle into his chest, his thumb rubbing soothing circles into your hand. he huffs a content laugh when you hum in affirmation, nearly purring at how warm he was. "good." and he waits a minute, letting the silence surround you before he presses a kiss to the crook of your neck. "i love you, honey." and he can't help the way he blushes when you say you love him back.

riki ; no matter what he says, he loves cuddling and physical affection in general. but he won't be sweet with it immediately; he's the type to tackle you. not very roughly, but he loves to wrap his arms around you and push you into the nearest soft surface, telling you to fight back. this always eventually mellows out to him just laying on top of you, enjoying your presence.

he's practically purring as your run your fingers through his hair, delicately brushing out the knots. he'd never admit it, but this is his favorite part of being with you, that you'll let him relax, not teasing him for being soft. it's in moments like this that realizes he truly loves you, but something always stops him from saying it. instead, he just grabs one of your hands, lacing it together with his own and pressing a soft kiss to the skin, mumbling out a quiet "thank you", which holds more weight than you know.

[misahyochaeng]

“Insider”

(CEO!Mina x Fem!Reader🌧️🔞)

TW's// Smut, Dom!Mina, Sub!reader, CEO!Mina, Clubbing, One night stand, catching feelings, slight angst, Fingering, Bathroom sex, L bombing, Public area, exhibitionism, hair pulling, spanking, Mina is DESPERATE. Mentions of Nayeon and Sana, you and nayeon lowkey have some tension here and there but shh..//

—Flashback—

—"Nggh, M-Mina-nim.. fuck.” Your body shook the bathroom stall, your body gripping Mina's shoulders as you came undone on her fingers.

—"Hmm.. good girl." She helped you ride your high, helping you finish and clean up.

—"No hard feelings, ok?" Mina replied sternly, fixing your appearance and leaving you there at the bathroom stall.

No hard feelings.

—Flashback end—

Those harsh words echoed and panged through your mind. It had been almost a month since your one night stand with the vicious club owner, known for her dark aura and intimidating presence; yet you saw her in her most vulnerable moments, her digits inside you as she took care of the problem inbetween your legs.

You'd promise yourself to not fall in love, but your heart was saying otherwise. You kept stalking her social medias, keeping up with the company club, eyeing events she hosted and thinking about how nice it'd be to go and see her again, maybe experience her fingers inside you again.

—"Fuck.. ughhh i can't, i miss her so much." You complained to your friend Nayeon, head on her lap as she played with your hair, your hands scrolling aimlessly through Mina's feed.

—"Y/N, honey, come on.. It was just a fling, what's so awesome about, her?"

—"Nayeon, you don't get it.. it's THE Myoui Mina, imagine being able to spend the night with the most fucking rich woman in all Seoul? Shit, you'd be crazy like me too!!"

Nayeon rolled her eyes, pinching your cheeks softly as she continued to play with your hair.—"Alright, alright, dummy.. It's noticeable you're hooked."

You nod, getting comfortable in Nayeons lap as you continued scrolling.

You need to see her.

—

On the other hand, Mina was in her office, counting up big stacks of twenty dollar bills, legs resting on her desk as she went through the paper. —"Alright, Sana, here's your payment..."

Mina said as she handed the Japanese a rough stack of cash, her expression cold. —"And the rest i'll be keeping, as promised."

Sana checked and counted her bills, the ones she hardly worked for by dancing. —"Ma'am this is only—"

—"Am i getting a complaint, Minatozaki?" She snapped back, her voice cold and stern,

—"You got your fair share, you know i need to get my bills paid, darling." Mina stood up and leaned over her desk, lifting Sana's chin up and inching closer to her, lips barely apart as she stared at the latter in a rather dominating composure.

—"Is there any way i can increase my payment, Ma'am?" Sana asked, hand snaking to hold Mina's, which was still on her chin.

Mina thought for a bit, getting an idea and smirking. —"Oh i know a way, sweetheart."

———

—"Holy shit, Y/N!!" Nayeon yelped as she scrolled through her phone, you were laying next to her watching a movie, the scream making you jolt up, eyes going wide.

—"What the fuck!" She shut you up with a finger to your lip, sitting up properly as she began to explain, eyes scanning yours.

—"Okay, soo.. yknow my whole modeling thing with Tommy Hillfiger, right?" You nodded, eyebrows furrowed as she yapped on and on.

—"They're hosting a runway event and they invited me!," Nayeon then leaned closer to you, practically whispering in your ear

—"And they said i could bring a plus one, plus they're holding an after party in this club,” Nayeon said in a low sultry tone, trying to seduce and convince you, the action making you roll your eyes.

—"Come on! it'll be fun!" After a couple minutes of nagging, you finally gave in, borrowing some of Nayeons THF designer clothes and doing your makeup,

—"See, i knew you'd always look better in my clothing, i have a better fashion sense after all!" Nayeon replied cockily, taking off and changing her shirt infront of you.

—"Whatever, just hurry up so we can go," The only reason you agreed is because you needed to get your mind off Mina, almost a month and you couldn't get the image out of your mind, you needed to do anything possible to get that pit inside you out.

After a good ten minutes, Nayeon finally finished getting all dolled up, holding her handbag as she walked out with you to the door. —"Wait, wait! quick selfie before we go out, babe!"

You rolled your eyes and smirked, going over to the closet mirror you had near your apartment front door and posing, Nayeons hands snaking near the lower area off your waist as you both posed for a quick mirror pic, speeding off the door in a stat.

Nayeon was quick to post the pic, the entire car ride to the event just being some basic chatter.

———

Sana smirked as she got the notification on insta, seeing the two of you posing, she giggled as she liked the story. —"Bingo."

———-

As your driver finally settled near the event area, paparazzi drivers immediately started flashing you both, of course since you were going as Nayeons plus one; you had a reputation, sure, but not as big as your best friend's.

As the event finally started, you sat with Nayeon, her hand on your thigh as you both watched the fashion show, cameras occasionally flashing to you both, you watched with amusement as you admired all the outfits, whispering a funny comment or two in Nayeons ear when an outfits pattern or style was weird, both of you trying to hold in your laugh.

The event was fun, (and by fun you mean making fun of the weird outfits the models would walk in with), and it got your mind out of plenty of stuff; as you walked out, you took plenty of selfies with celebrities you admired, mostly flattering Nayeon in all her glory while you introduced yourself as her friend.

But now, the fun was actually about to start. As you pulled up to the club for the after party, it was full to the brim, butterflies in your stomach as the night began to settle.

The night was wild, filled with dancing, drinking, pouring shots in random peoples mouth and getting closer to Nayeon, the alcohol in your system making you touch, feel and grind all over your best-friend.

Little did you know, Sana, Mina's little minion and worker, was eyeing you the whole time.

Sana had been bringing over drunk girls for Mina to toy with, it's what they agreed on after all, the more the girls, the more payment increase for Sana. Sana was about to strike until you drifted off of Nayeon, whose lips were near you neck as you both danced together.

You slightly stumbled off to the bathroom, where only god knows what you were about to do.

That was until Mina bursted out of her office door, T-shirt collar messy as she wiped the messy lipstick on her face, a dark haired girl with bangs who looked like she just got ran over by a tornado leaving the room shortly after her, a hand trailing behind Mina's ass. —"Thank you for the service miss uhm.. Hirai.."

The girl blew a kiss as she ran off to party.

—“All good, Miss. Myoui?” Sana asked, head tilted as she gave the Japanese a cheeky smile.

Mina nodded, —"Just a quick bathroom break, i'll be back in a bit, bring the next girl over to my office ok?"

Mina walked off to the bathroom, hands in her pockets as she opened the door with her shoulders. You were leaning against the sink touching up your makeup until a loud thud made you snap your neck to the side, the sight of the girl you yearned so badly for making your jaw drop.

—"Myoui!!!?" You shouted, though it was quickly cut off by Mina's hand covering your mouth.

—"Shh, people aren't supposed to know i'm here, fuck." She replied sternly, the tone of voice taking you back a bit.

You both had a moment of silence before Mina spoke. —"It's been a while, no?"

You nodded, avoiding the latters gaze until she lifted your chin up with her finger, inching a bit closer. —"You okay?"

Mina replied, her cold facade disappearing and now being replaced with some light concern —"N-no it's just..."

You sighed before inching her hand away.

—"I don't think i can forget about last time, Mina.. I need that.." You paused for a brief moment as you stared at her, the bass of the music making the walls vibrate,

—"I need you."

Silence..

Mina barely wasted a second and latched onto you, hands holding your waist and ass as she bit your bottom lip, pressing her lips against yours in a deep kiss. You moaned out, Mina's cold hands reaching up to your shirt to cup and knead your breasts, pressing you against the wall, her thigh in-between your legs.

You bucked your hips for friction, grinding on her thigh as you whined against her.

—"Need it so badly, don't you, baby?" Mina teased, mouth trailing down to your neck, biting, leaving sloppy kisses, she was aggressive, desperate even; it was like you were her last fucking meal.

Mina groped your breast hard as she undid the button of your jean pants, shoving her hand down there to rub your clit through your underwear, a smirk pressing against your neck as your body jolted forward at the stimulation, mouth falling agape as you moaned out.

—"Good fucking girl." Mina gripped the skin of your sides harshly, her neck still on your neck, inhaling your scent, it was like an addiction, and she had fallen in deep.

Mina inserted two of her digits inside you, fucking you at an easy and steady pace, biting your earlobe as she kissed you roughly all over.

—“You need it so badly, don’t you baby?” Mina teased, mouth trailing down to your neck, biting, leaving sloppy kisses, she was aggressive, desperate even; it was like you were her last fucking meal.

You moaned loudly as she touched every single one of your weak spots, she knew what you liked and she’d do anything to please you.

The loud noise echoed through the bathroom, she pressed her lips against yours again, tongue exploring your mouth. —"Be quiet, needy girl, anyone can some in at any second yknow? See you being such a good girl for Miss Myoui, what would they think? Hm?"

You arched your back bucking your hips against her fingers, Mina's free hand reaching down to land three harsh smacks on your ass, kneading the area after, she was obsessed with your ass, and you knew it.

Mina's lips trailed down to your collarbone, marking the area. —"Don't wanna fuck anyone else after this, don't want YOU fucking anyone else, you're fucking mine, got it? This wet cunt is mine. Myoui Mina's fucking pussy."

You nodded endlessly, arms wrapping around her neck, you hid your face in the crook of it, biting her neck to suppress your noises.

—"Easy fucking girl." Mina spit back, her off hand just feeling you all over, sweat dripping down her forehead as she got you all messy for her.

—"Gosh, fucks sake Mina, i love you so fucking much."

Those words made Mina jolt up a bit, she would hear it a lot from all her different flings, but when it came out of your mouth, fuck, it was different. —"Yeah? Say how much you fucking love me, say it, needy girl."

Tears pricked at your eyes as you moaned out, telling her how much you loved her aimlessly, everything about her, how fucking obsessed you were with her. It struck a nerve in Mina, making her heart pang, she knew there was no hard feelings, but fuck.. why was she feeling this way.

She thrusted harder, hitting deep inside you as she felt your walls clench around her. —"Close, baby? Gonna cum for me? How about i take you home and treat you good after this?"

You nodded before pouring your juices out on the girls fingers, as she helped you ride your high, you pulled the girl closer into a hug and kissed her, your eyes teary. —"I'm sorry"

You apologized as you look into her eyes, her gaze softening, something you'd never seen before.—"It's.. Its okay.. Hey? I did promise id treat you? it's on me."

—"But what about—"

She was quick to reassure you, hands cupping your soft cheeks as she admired you with her gaze.

—"Don't worry about Nayeon, i've got it covered, trust me." As she said that, you gave in as she cleaned you up and took you out of the bathroom, eyeing Sana as she walked out with you, pinky's linked together.

You did good, Sana... You did good.

[iid-smile]

ideal dream , denji

x gn!reader ! profanity, slight suggestive implications at the end, mentions of kids and marriage, you're his unofficial housewife

author's note: um i got lazy so this is kinda bad ahahahahahahah

the smell of chicken and onions filled your apartment, but it wasn't overwhelming unpleasant. for dinner was budget katsudon, but your boyfriend wasn't picky enough to really notice the difference.

"what's your dream?" you suddenly muse to him, filling in the comfortable silence.

denji leans his head on the back of the couch, eyes drifting back and forth as if he's visually imagining a scenario. "to live in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere and you can cook for me all the time."

a soft chuckle turns into more of a sigh through your nose, and you take a quick glance up at him before focusing on the knife in your hand again. "if i refuse?" you ask, knowing full well you wouldn't.

"please don't." his response was quick and sounded pleading, his eyes drifting over to you as if it would convince you otherwise. too predictable, and unexpectedly cute.

chop. chop. chop. denji was sitting as close as he possibly could to where you were standing, his limbs spread all over the couch as he silently looked up at you through the open window to the kitchen. he throws his head back just that little bit more so he could get a nice view of you from below, admiring your peaceful and gentle face with so much attraction.

you exhale, dropping off some thinly sliced lettuce into a strainer after washing. "dreams are just dreams, you know? where would i get ingredients from, hm?" your crossed arms lean on the edge of the counter as you give him your full attention.

only for a moment does he look conflicted, eyes glancing away from you as he thinks of his answer. "i'll hunt them for you." now there's a small grin on his lips, as if he's already proud of his future self for going out of his way to hunt for you. "build us a little garden 'n shit."

in slight surprise, your eyebrows raise a little. "you sure? can't imagine you handling gardening too well, love."

"if it's for you, i'll do it." , looking more determined than before. "and we can have pet chickens too."

you were cooking some chicken for dinner, a substitute for pork cutlet because you couldn't afford it, so the reasoning should be obvious. but it wouldn't hurt to ask, right? "for what?"

"eggs."

random, considering he rarely asks you to cook eggs. "oh yeah? and what else?"

"i'll marry you, 'n the chickens can be our spectators, cuz we won't have anyone else. the plants can watch too, plants are alive, so they'd able to hear us say our vows." maybe you influenced him too much while watching the notebook... he's interested in marriage?

you can only shake your head with a smile, wiping your hands on your apron as you stand up straight again. "you are a lost cause. just a bit crazy."

"'m gonna make it real, just watch. i'll work extra hard, so we can get enough money and move the hell out of here." he suddenly sits up, turning around to directly face you. there's an obvious glint, a sparkle in his eyes. "and then, and then! we can have a whole bunch of kids and—"

you cut him off with a giggle, already knowing what he was going to say. "okay, i'm gonna have to stop you there, big boy. we're not rabbits, so we really don't need to go at it that often."

"aw..." denji's face immediately falls, a disappointment look overcoming his features.

you wouldn't want him to lose hope that quick, would you? especially considering he listens to your every word and takes them seriously. "...but... we can think about that when we actually have our dream place."

"YES!"

"don't sound so giddy about it."

[umadosedepascal]

O U C H | Pedro Pascal x f!reader | PART VII

Written by Santa Trindade

Banner by @missyorkswhore

Made in Brazil

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x f!reader

Summary: You are at the Golden Globes and meet Pedro over there, he didn’t win unfortunately but still, he is a winner in bed.

wc: 4.1k

rating/warnings: [Smut][Semi public sex] [unprotected PIV][oral sex m/f][Pedro injured] [sex on bathtub] [elevator][Pedro a little dom] [spanking ass] [Hold neck] [Curse words ][nipple play] [making out inside the car][Pedro speaks spanish]

a/n: My fellow followers, we are fast. I know. Pedro does help us imagine these kind of situation EASILY! just because he is HOT, even wearing an arm sling (poor baby). And yes, he is our slut winner always! More to come for the Emmys! 😘 please consider reposting, let’s spread it fucking hard! 🤘🏻

This Sunday was certainly one of the busiest since the year began, you arrived early at the salon to do hair, makeup and nails, it took you a long time to choose the best dress and perfect shoes for the Golden Globes.

Despite being a little cold in Los Angeles, you got a long dress with a naked back and slit in your left leg, perfect shoes, jewelry and hair, you were finally ready for the event.

The traffic of Los Angeles is always chaotic and today it would be no different, otherwise it is worse, there are so many cars, photographers and people. The driver goes near the entrance of the Bervely Hilton hotel, and as soon as you enter you already meet some friends and acquaintances. Your assistant is always pulling you, saying that you have little time as you walked towards the red carpet.

You give some interviews and as soon as you finish your interview with Vanity Fair, you turn around and see Pedro telling a reporter that he is injured because he fell, he hasn't seen you yet.

Pedro goes out in line for the red carpet photos, You are six people behind him, but even from afar you can see how beautiful he looks, black shirt with white details, black pants and equally black boots, you give a giggle when you see that he matched the arm sling with the clothes.

It's your turn to pose for the paparazzi, you position yourself behind the wall, look to your left and see that he is still taking pictures, talking, and even about the countless flashes, you feel his gaze on you.

You smile at the photographers and get close to Pedro, he opens a smile when he sees you, saying your name and extending his hand, pulling you close to him. He immediately puts his hand on your back, feeling your naked skin, his index finger makes small circles on your back while he talks to the man in front of you, you can barely understand what they talk about, it's so much noise and your mind focused only on the feeling of his finger playing with your skin.

Pedro's conversation ends, he pulls you by giving you a kiss on the cheek quickly while saying "See you later" giving a wink, he goes inside with his agent.

Your table is opposite to Pedro's, but you can still see him from where you are. During the awards your eyes meet each other, even from a distance.

He always smiling despite being hurt, he talks excitedly to everyone, with each winner who passes he gets up and greets.

You are so anxious to see him take the stage and receive the prize he deserves.

You already in your third Moet glass, and they finally announce the nominees for best drama actor, when they announce Pedro's name, you can't contain yourself, you get up and cheer for him, as if you were alone in your room in front of him, pleasuring him in the best way, whether about acting or how he fucks you until he leaves you breathless.

Unfortunately he does not win the category, so an idea comes to your mind, you are convinced that you will give him the best night ever.

Even after the defeat, Pedro doesn't stop smiling, you take your phone and send him a message "You are much bigger than any prize dear, let me show you that later?"

It takes a few minutes for him to see message, you look towards his table and giggle when you see him getting in the way holding his phone with only one hand, he puts the phone on his lap and types, a few seconds later his answer arrives, you feel your hands sweaty, a twink in your stomach when reading "I confess that I'm not happy about it, but now I'm very curious about how you will convince me that I'm worthy for you"

You bite your lip as you read and look at him, even a few meters away, you feel that brown sea on his eyes burning you, you just blink and raise your glass in a silent toast.

A few more awards are delivered, speeches are made, and you almost feel bad for not paying so much attention, almost. Your thoughts are in Pedro, hoping that everything ends soon for you to leave, and from what you look towards him, Pedro is not very different from you, his fingers hitting the table, playing with the glass between his fingers.

Finally the last prize is announced and delivered, everyone gets up, celebrating, lamenting. You dodge the invitations to the after party, claiming to have to wake up early for work, you go towards Pedro's table, he is taking some pictures with other people, you stand still finishing your last glass of champagne waiting anxiously to get his attention.

As soon as the last photo is taken, Pedro turns to you, that smile that only he has, stretching out his hand he says excitedly "Shall we go to the after party?" Your smile weakens at the time, you feel a twinge of disappointment, but you try miserably to disguise it, agreeing with your head, he laughs loudly and says "I got you! Come on, let's go to the car, I told you we're leaving" Pedro holds your hand and goes towards the exit, we stop a few times to greet some acquaintances, but Pedro always uses the same excuse -my arm is killing me, I forgot my medicine at home, sorry, next time I will-

Pulling you by the free hand, he always looks at me in the corner, bites his lip trying to hold a smile.

Pedro opens the car door to me and says softly with a shy smile "Can we go to your house tonight?".

You open your eyes and try to remember if everything is tidy and clean at your apartment, after all you remember isn’t that bad. "You got it! I have frozen pizza and beers" he laughs waving his head and raises his eyebrow, you get in the car and Pedro sits next to you, he puts his hand on your thigh and gently smoothes up and down, You look at his face and see him staring at you, eyes so expressive. His hand goes up until he finds the lace of your panties, he releases a cough while looking at the driver who is focused on traffic. You open your legs a little giving him more access to your pussy, you feel his middle finger go up and down pressing your clit, you look at him scared and say softly while you pretend to fix your earring "Are you crazy? El conductor lo verá"

He laughs and points with his head to the button next to you near the window "Press" he says, I press and then a black glass part rises between us and the driver.

Pedro raises his hand to your face, pulling you for a kiss, his lips taste like some strong drink, he sucks your tongue, bites your lower lip and whispers in your ear

"You can't even imagine how much I was waiting to put my hand under this dress." You open your legs, putting one on top of his, giving yourself to whatever he wants.

Pedro plays with the fabric of the dress, until you feel his fingers rub your clit over your panties. You close your eyes feeling him press his finger while his mouth says dirty things in your ear, you let out an involuntary moan, Pedro looks at you and tells you to be quiet, you smile and disguise.

You notice something in his hand that is bandaged, you bend to see and his nails have some kind of sticker, he laughs as you stretch his fingers and read _OUCH_

“What is this Pedro?!” You ask laughing, he answers between laughs "did you like it?"

We both laughed, you say yes, that you loved it, you take your hand out of his and slide on his head, your fingers wrapping in his curls, doing a massage, Pedro moans softly enjoying the massage. You watch his face, eyes closed, mouth slightly open while delighting in the massage, until you stop the movements opens his eyes staring at me. He is no longer smiling, neither you are, the atmosphere has changed, the car seems to heat up, you bring your lips closer to theirs while your other hand squeezes his thigh, going up to his groin, the tip of your nail circling the bulge that begins to harden. Pedro doesn't move, he just accepts your touches, you raise your hand until you find his belt, you open it and pull the zipper down, the only movement he makes with his body and raise his hips to give you access. You slide your hand in and feel his hot cock, you squeeze it and he moans throwing his head back. You raise your hand to the waistband of his boxers and run your index finger through the wet head with pre cum, he lets out a low swear word, when he sees you take his finger on your lips and suck it.

The car stop and you see that you are in front of your place.

Pedro stretches his hand over his thigh, adjusting the pants that shows his cock completely hard, you help him fix his belt and he gets out of the car. He extend his hand to you, you hold it firmly and leave, you take the keychain inside your bag, but it is so difficult to find the right one, because your brain freezes when you feel Pedro so close to your back, his hand playing with your hair, his fingers going up your back to the shoulders where he gently slide his nails, you hum

"This way we won't even get past the elevator Jose" he lets out a low giggle whispering a sorry.

As soon as you enter the hall, you press the elevator button and you feel that it is the twelve longest seconds of your life, the two of you looking closely at the elevator display, the tension is palpable, you look without blinking at the decreasing numbers _19, 18, 17, 16, 15, 14, 13, 12, 11, 10_ you count down mentally and when the ten arrives, you feel Pedro hold your nape tightly, pulling you until you back hits his chest, he runs his nose through your shoulder until he reaches your jaw, where he licks and bites gently

"If that fucking elevator takes five more seconds to open, I swear to God I'll fuck you on that table over there, after all I haven't won my trophy yet" he says that and turns your neck to the side, making you see the little table where the flowers in the hall are.

The elevator warns you that it is on the ground floor scares you, your heart accelerates, you look at Pedro who is still so close to your face and just nod your head towards the elevator door.

As soon as you enter, you press number 24, when the doors close, you ask Pedro to hold your bag, he holds and stares at you, you lean your back against the elevator wall and squat a little and putting your hand under your dress - thank God the side slit helped me - you take off your panties and when tou get up you find his eyes looking at you and looking for cameras in the elevator, you giggle and approach to get your bag while knead your panties in your hand and put them in his front pocket.

Pedro doesn't say anything, the growl that comes out of his throat speaks more than a thousand words.

The elevator warns tou that you are on the right floor, but you still need to look for the key inside the bag.

“Key, right?” He says while you search my bag

_God, I had them in my hand a few minutes ago_

Pedro pushes you against the wall, at the same time he slides his fingers on your lips making you open them, he puts two fingers in your mouth and makes you suck it, he takes out his fingers and holds your chin, making you raise your face more towards him, giving you a quick kiss, he slides his fingers wet with your saliva inside the slit of your dress, his fingers rubbing your clit, sticking two fingers in your pussy.

You let out a low moan and then kiss, your left hand on his chin smoothing his beard while the other still looks for a key inside the bag.

His fingers in and out of you, you suck his lip and move away, interrupting the kiss you raise my hand, shaking the key between your fingers

“Found it!”

He laughs and takes his fingers out of you, and takes it to his lips, sucking. You open the door, Pedro pulls you towards your room, which he is already familiar with, he sits on your bed, takes your panties out of his pocket and extends it to his side and says:

“You did this, can you take off my clothes as well?”

Without thinking, you approach him, you knee down and start with the boots and socks, never breaking eye contact.

You are between his legs and drag your hands until you find his belt, unbuckle and slowly open a button, stop and look at him, as if asking for permission

"Yeah babe, like this" he says with a smile on his face, you open the other button and open the zipper. You hook your fingers into the waistband of his pants and pull his pants so slowly that you can feel the anxiety in the air.

You throw his pants to the side and see how hard he is, you slide your hands over his underwear, his cock is pulsating and hot, kneeling in front of him, you bring your face closer to his cock and run your tongue over his underwear following the entire length, feeling the moisture in the fabric.

Pedro sighs and looks up, murmuring something you don't even understand, you just feel his left hand grabbing your hair, letting out a growl he tells you to get up and sit on his lap. You get up and when you put your hand on the zipper of the dress to take it off, Pedro interrupts me

"Deja el vestido puesto!"

You put one leg on each side of his hip, Pedro moans low when he feels your wet pussy in contact with his thigh, you feel his hand squeezing your nape again, you smile at him while your hands play with the details of the shirt he wears.

"You are so wet babe" without answering you just kiss, your lips touch each other first softly, you feel tickled when the mustache he rubs against your skin, his hand loosens the grip on your hair and slowly goes down your back, the kiss goes wide, you bite his lower lip, pulling between his teeth and licking when releasing,

Pedro never moves his hand away from your body, you feel his thigh press your pussy, you rub yourself feeling the few hairs on his leg in contact with your swollen clit and in need of touch, Pedro lowers his hand to your hip, pulling you down while raising his thigh, you release a moan in his mouth, so what he says is enough for your body to know that he is in complete abstinence "Ride on my thigh... enjoy rubbing against me" Pedro lies on the bed, wearing only his shirt and underwear, you put your hands on his chest and you start rubbing slowly. Pedro doesn't take his eyes off yours, his hand is still on your hip encouraging me to speed up the movements, leading me.

You throw your head back, feeling a heat take over your body, you feel the orgasm rise in your stomach, your clit pulsating, feeling his thigh slide easily in your excitement.

"Come on babe give me, I want to feel you" Pedro begs and squeezes your breast over the dress, you rub harder feeling your orgasm wet his whole thigh "Oh my god Pedro please"

"Yeah babe like that ride me like that" you moan his name, you murmur things that you don't even know what they mean, as soon as you feel your body calm down you open your eyes and there they are, those brown eyes burning me, eqting you alive. You get out of his thigh, dragging you down until you get on your knees on the floor, Pedro runs two fingers on his wet thigh and moans while licking his fingers, as if you were his favorite dessert.

He leans on his left elbow and stares at you you run your nails through his legs, reaching the waistband of his boxers, and before pulling you look him in the eyes and say softly

"Let me demonstrate how important you are my dear"

You slowly pull his undies, his cock jumps hitting his tummy, drops of pre cum flooding his cock head.

You hold his cock by the base and make slow movements from the bottom up, watching the fat drops of pre cum accumulate, wetting your fingers. Without taking your eyes off his eyes you put his cock in your mouth and make circles with the tip of your tongue, cleaning his excitement, you put it in your mouth until you feel the tip of his cock hit your throat, extending your hands and stroke his tummy inside his fancy shirt.

"Help me get this out" you let go of his cock and get up, carefully opening the velcro of his arm sling, you help him take off his shirt throwing it to the side where his clothes turn to a pile. Pedro pulls you making you ride on his lap, you feel his cock hit against your clit, you put your hand between your bodies and holding his cock by the base you fit into your pussy and sit, feeling every inch of it inside you.you both moan loudly, you stand still and help put the arm sling again

"I want you to be safe babe" he laughs and squeezes your ass and moves his hips up entering deeper into you, you push him to lie down and lean over him, gluing your lips to his you bounce on his cock for a while.

"Take off that dress" he says. You get up and pull the side zipper of your dress, Pedro calls you with his fingers and asks you to lie on the bed, he kneels between your legs and stroke your thighs, your belly, circling your nipples.

"I won tonite anyways" he says as he holds his cock by the base and rubs it against your clit.

Pedro slides his cock inside you slowly, taking advantage of every inch, while smoothing the side of your thigh threatening to snap you stretch your hands and scratch his thick thighs.

You feel his nails scratch your thigh and soon the burning of the slap "Come on babe take me all" you push your hips against his, the only sound in the room is your breaths with low moans.

Pedro slides his hand down your neck, squeezing and down until he finds your nipples, he squeezes and rotates between his fingers, making you squeeze his cock with your pussy "fuck Pedro, please I need more" he stop moving, he just keeps looking at me raising an eyebrow while squeezing your nipple between his fingers

"Do you need more? "And giggles

You slide your foot on his tummy pushing him away, you kneel on the bed getting face to face with him, you lick and bite every piece of skin you find, you jerking him off, feeling your fingers get wet with pre cum and your excitement

"On all fours my little bitch" he orders with a slap on your ass, you turn around getting your face pressed against the mattress, you feel Pedro's hand stroke your ass, and then the sound of a slap echoes through the room next to your moan, another slap and you hear him squat, then his lips are in your pussy, his tongue entering you like a cock, he moans against your pussy, making you feel the vibrations of his hoarse voice.

Before getting up you feel his saliva dripping through your pussy, another slap on your ass and you feel his cock hitting your clitoris, rubbing you hard, he moans and curses not being able to have both hands free, Pedro sticks his whole cock into your pussy, taking a loud moan from both of you.

"Fuck Pedro don't fucking stop please" he trust hard, you feel another orgasm forming, his skin hitting against you, his hand passing through your back, scratching your skin.

"Touch your clit, give me one more babe one fucking more" you put your hand in the middle of your legs and it doesn't take many movements to cum on his cock, you feel yourself explode, making you scream the name of Pedro.

"Fuck babe I'm going to fill your pussy" Pedro speed up the movements, his left hand squeezing your hip hard, you feel hot jets of cum flooding your pussy, Pedro moaning your name while slapping your ass a few more times

"Your pussy is milking me you fucking bitch" Pedro throws himself next to you on the bed, breathing with difficulty, he looks at you and laughs and now you realize that he didn't even take off his glasses, the disheveled hair gives an extremely unique look. Him.

"Fuck the awards" he says laughing, panting, you kiss him and say softly

"More awards to come Pedrito, relax" he smiles stretching his hand and slapping you in the ass

"I will win them all! Let's go to the shower"

Pedro stares at you as you undo the velcro of his arm sling “What?" He just smiles saying that out of nowhere, the bathtub is almost full, you enter and feel your feet thank the hot water, you sit down and call him, he approaches and sits behind you, pulling you to have your back glued to his chest, you put your head between his neck and shoulder, stretching your right hand while you play with his hair.

You feel his left hand playing with your nipples, slowly going down yourbelly until you find my clit.

"Hmmm I'm still not happy I need more awards" he says this and puts his leg under yours, making it almost impossible for you to close your legs, the middle and index finger draw circles through your clit, in and out his finger inside you. You tilt your head more looking for his lips, kissing him while you release moans every time you feel him put two fingers inside your pussy.

"I want you to hold my cock with that beautiful hand and put it in that tight little pussy and ride me "

Every word he said was a thrust of his fingers inside you, you turn around and sit on his lap, holding his cock with your right hand, Pedro doesn't wait a second and is already pushing myou down to bury himself inside you. Pedro sucks and bites your nipples, climbs his tongue until he finds your lips, his hand holding your ass tigh, guiding how he wants me to roll.

"Fuck, you're so hot, that pussy squeezes me so hard"

Your moan is loud, your nails scratch his shoulders, your lips meet the skin of his neck where you slide your tongue whispering in his ear how you love to feel his cock all inside you.

Pedro holds the back of your neck making you look into his eyes "Cum on my cock, squeeze me" you grind more feeling your clit rubbing on his lower belly, the orgasm growing inside you, your hands hold his shoulders tightly

"Fuck I'm going to cum"

His hand grabs my neck, squeezing hard as he orders "Now" your moans are weak due to the force he holds your neck, you feel your body tremble

"I'm going to fill your fucking pussy with cum, kiss me please" your kiss is desperate, your moans are loud, Pedro’s hand runs through your body desperate to touch every inch of your skin.

"Fuck, that was much better than any award" he speaks in the midst of laughter you kiss his shoulder and bury your face on his neck

"Always so good... Hmmm pizza and beers?" He laughs loudly and gives you a slow kiss.

"Fuck yeah pizza and beers!"

———————————

Thanks for being here and read our delusional fics, likes are appreciate, comments even more. If you want to ask anything, blast it!

[respectthepetty]

Pride Petty Watch (SOTUS) 3/5

I'm making my way through the blacklisted shows I was supposed to watch during Pride. I already watched Love in the Air but paused The Untamed so I could deal with my sworn enemy, SOTUS. I'm watching it in five parts (first, second), so now I'm starting on episode seven and have decided 1) Kongpob x M are the perfect ghost ship, 2) this show feels much older than 2016 due to the language and style, and 3) this is a story of a masochistic dom looking for a sado sub.

Since I can't remember anything about this show, I'm actually excited to see all the ways Kong seeks out punishment warmth from P'Oon in the second half of this series.

Prem and Wad aren't going to be a couple, are they? I want them to be because Prem going instantly soft after they fought another faculty together and now being worried about Wad's wounds is the whole purpose for men to fight! Punch each other, then kiss the bruises!

I have no Photoshop skills, so I would never criticize someone else's work, but there are times when I see that this show was made with a budget consisting of two pennies rubbed together, and this is one of those moments because who added those people into the scene?! And why are they layered ON TOP of each other?!

For the people who hated Tae and Mee in The Trainee and the sports day episode in The On1y One, those people would be pissed watching episode seven of SOTUS because it's focused on the hets, capturing the flag, and nothing else. Someone could've at least passed out on that field, so this could be entertaining for me and the juniors, damn.

The man who played Deer has only acted in one other show, and I'm mad about it. The fact that a senior has to be on that field to answer these ridiculous questions from the freshmen is nonsense, but at least I get to see this man with his gorgeous hair.

Arthit says everything to Kong in the gayest way possible in front of all his homies and God without any sense of irony.

And Kong matches that energy every damn time! I'm already sick of them.

Forming a circle around Arthit to say thanks is kinda creepy to me, which is why it makes perfect sense that this was Kong's idea since these two continue to declare their love for each other indirectly while making everyone within two miles witness.

But this moment reminded me of Lisa's "Rockstar" music video, so Thailand stays consistent.

Kong is begging to be punished! Asking Arthit if anyone else knows he cries and likes pink milk is not small talk, and I know Kong just wants to feel like the most special boy for knowing all of this, but I also fully believe he wants Arthit to slap him.

M came on this trip so he could make heart eyes at Kong, and I will not be convinced otherwise. If I forget May exists, my ship is untouchable. M loves Kong, and it's canon to me.

Arthit is a Ken! He made all the boys go out to the water, so he could make the girls listen to him play a song on the beach. Someone needs to ask Greta Gerwig if she has watched SOTUS. Greta, if you're in the room with us right now, blink twice.

"If I tell you to die, will you do it?" YES! What the hell do you think this kid has been trying to tell you?! He wants you to choke him? He wants you to slap him? He has been instigating a fight with you since the first day because he wants your hands on him in the most violent ways. Baby is a masochist and needs to be kept!

I stand by the claim I made in an earlier post that the crew doesn't seem to like Krist because these title cards in-between parts of the episode do him sooooo dirty. There is no need for this to be the image, but here we are. This is rude.

I could never hate M. He is so kind and so dumb. I love those qualities in men.

And I love these qualities in women! (Sidenote: Let Jan kiss more homies, GMMTV!)

GMMTV's 2024 Outing, is that you player?

Since Love Sick and Addicted Heroin have been remade, when SOTUS is remade, M and Kong should be the main couple, and May should ship them while also trying to date Prae. Friends-to-Lovers, fifteen episodes, and make New and Singto play the characters again.

This is the biggest "hell nah" from me because I would not have that many people WALKING ON ME barefoot as some form of initiation. Walking on people is reserved for sex stuff! Just walking on people to walk on people is not normal, and should stop immediately!

I can see the wheels spinning in Arthit's head, but the pieces are not connecting for him. Your man likes when you yell at him. Kong likes when you get upset at him. The kid likes pushing your buttons because then he gets all your attention. Now say it with me, "Kong is a masochist"

Kong is practically begging to be slapped, and if Arthit doesn't do it soon, I will.

This scene hit me so hard I had to pause because it woke me up like I was sleeper agent. I NOW REMEMBER THIS SHOW! Nine episodes in and I finally remember this damn show!

I am white-knuckling my way though this show now because Kong is dressed for a date, Arthit is late and looking like a mess, and Kong is telling Arthit he will do whatever Arthit wants him to, he will like anything Arthit wants him to like, and he will be anything Arthit wants him to be. I do not know how Arthit is experiencing all that Kong is throwing at him, and not realizing that Kong wants to be his pet.

"Call Me by My Name Number: A Boy's Journey to Become a Pet" Where's Mame when you need her?

And now Kong is eating a meal he didn't want, AGAIN, simply because Arthit told him to eat it! I'm not even joking anymore; this shit is kinky, and in this exact moment, I don't hate this show solely because of this reason.

Fuck going to sleep! I'm staying up and watching episode ten, NOW!

[bodydoublegame]

hello! it's amy! if you follow my personal account, you'd already know what this is. body double is a side project that i do for fun inbetween infamous, just for when i need to refresh my brain! i decided to make a blog for it so i don't flood my personal account with this game lol.

This game is a side project that I do when I need inspiration for Infamous. That means development on it will be sloooow. Infamous is my main priority right now!

Body Double is a an interactive story that takes place in a cyberpunk inspired world where top secret operatives of an elusive Cypress Industries have the unique ability to jump bodies.

Agent Sawyer is the best Agent in the business, tasked with protecting Cypress Industries and all of its assets.

Until three weeks ago.

Framed for the president's murder and in a last-ditch effort to save their ass, they switch bodies with our regular, ordinary IT-tech MC...who is now walking in the body of a suspect the entire city is looking for. Stuck in a citywide manhunt, MC is now on the run with a pesky Agent who refuses to tell them where their body is. To make matters worse, Agent Sawyer's subconcious is stuck in their head, speaking to them like a pest MC can't shake off.

Wonderful.

With a help of a host of characters from Sawyer's past and MC's present, MC will have to throw themself in a conspiracy to clear Sawyer's name and get back to normal. Relatively. No pressure.

The usual IF stuff: customize your mc from personality to appearance. Unsurprisingly from me, BODY DOUBLE is a character driven story with a focus on relationship dynamics, angst and drama...but this time with action.

Mold Sawyer in the prologue and be stuck with them in your head for the rest of the story. Are they humorous? Stoic? Vulgar? Emotional? Arrogant? You decide.

Romance characters like Sawyer's ex (messy) or the human-mech hybrid trying to kill you (messy) or your measly IT tech friend who has no idea what the hell is going on but they're a trooper. Or an AI. Your call.

Try to uncover a conspiracy and solve a murder in a cyberpunk setting.

Don't die?

SAWYER [RO][customizable]: the agent accused of murder. The wires get crossed when they switch bodies with you, and somehow you have their subconcious in your head. They refuse to switch back until you help clear their name even though you're in their body, which means people are after you now. Asshole move, really.

ROACH: Sawyer's twin brother and perpetual hermit. As a hacker, he has eyes all over the city. He also misses his sibling, so he's determined to see it through.

AGENT BECK [f or m] [RO]: A cool and intimidating fellow Agent of Cypress Industries...and Sawyer's ex partner. Sawyer dumped them, broke their heart, and since then, ghosted them (as one does.) With that said, Beck is determined to help you. And them. Just make sure to try to ignore the longing looks they send your way. It's not towards you, of course.

CAI [RO] [f, m or nb models] : Cypress AI or CAI is Sawyer's former field partner. Honest, cold and emotionless, you can't believe CAI is actually helping you. It must be going against their every makeup to go against Cypress, but having someone like them on your side is beneficial, at least.

HAWKE [m][RO]: the mech-human hybrid tasked with hunting you down. Well, hunting Sawyer down. Their one mission is to see you (Sawyer) dead, which poses a problem so as long as you're in this body. So there's that.

SOLANA [f][RO]: the elusive club owner...and the last person to see the president alive. You can't tell if Solana is an ally or an enemy, but you do know the one thing that drives her is power. Good to keep an eye on her, anyway.

AXL [nb] [RO]: the wealthy child of the now dead president and new heir of Cypress Industries. They hate your (Sawyer's) guts. They have hired all the best operatives and assassins to take you (Sawyer) down, and will stop and nothing to get their justice. If only you could convince them otherwise...

MAV [f or m] [RO]: your best friend and fellow IT employee. A trooper, who decides to be your sidekick on this weird...journey. No biggie. Make sure they don't die.

As usual, BD is 18+ for adult themes, explicit language, suggestive situations, violence and more! <3

[yanderes-galore]

Romantic Misa Amane with prompts 17 and 29 from your own prompt list? Misa is basically a canon yandere anyway.

She definitely is. Plus, I can totally see her playing dress up with her darling.

Yandere! Misa Amane Prompts 17 + 29

"You look so cute in those clothes! I think I picked well...."

"I want to be this close... forever...."

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Post-Kidnapping plot, Delusional behavior, Manipulation, Clingy behavior, Isolation, Murder mentioned, Dehumanization, Forced relationship.

"I saw these at the store and thought you'd look so cute in them!"

Misa's voice is sickeningly sweet like usual. You've grown used to her voice ever since you were brought to her apartment. Yet you still can't stop flinching back when you hear her.

You're scared of her and you think she notices.

It wasn't new for Misa to buy clothes before coming home. As a famous model she naturally gets money and access to fancy clothes. So, you're used to Misa coming home with bags full of clothes.

Unfortunately, you also know it means she gets to play dress up with you for the next few hours.

Dressing you in clothes is Misa's love language. She enjoys dressing you in pretty suits and dresses. To her, it's bonding.

You feel like a human doll... but it's not like you can convince her otherwise.

"Took me forever to find your size but... here they are!" Misa chirps, dropping full bags on the bed beside you. You blankly look between them and Misa, noticing the excitement glinting in her eyes. If you ignored the fact you're a captive... maybe it would be cute.

If you weren't trapped in this apartment, perhaps Misa could be a good girlfriend. She's cute... but you know better. A cute face can allow someone to get away with many things...

But not kidnapping and murder.

No, you know what Misa is capable of. She may act like the cute supermodel she usually is now. Yet this is the same woman who just needs a face of someone she doesn't like... just to get rid of them.

You aren't sure how she does it but what you do know is she admitted it. When you first were dragged here, Misa admitted she's been planning this. Your friends disappearances were no accidents.

That's what kept you scared of angering her. You've seen her snap by this point. When you don't reciprocate... She gets irritated....

So playing doll is your best bet.

You don't bother fighting when Misa pulls out an outfit from the bag. It's black yet on closer inspection you can see what looks like glitter. You don't comment on it, simply scooting closer so the model can dress you.

There isn't much talk between you. Well, talk you reciprocate as most of it is Misa cooing over you as she compliments how you look. You silently resign yourself to playing dress up with Misa as she puts the first outfit on your body.

"You look so cute in those clothes! I think I picked well...." Misa finally squeals as she pulls back. She pulls down the outfit to properly fit you. You internally grimace... not enjoying how tight the outfit clings.

You wonder if she did that on purpose.

"Aren't you cute?" Misa chirps, looking at you expectantly. You hesitate, watching her nervously. Yet when you see a familiar darkness in her gaze... you answer with a quick nod and hum.

Misa appears pleased at your response. Pleased enough to squeal again and tug you into her arms. Your breath hitches, panicking before forcing yourself to calm down as Misa cradles you.

She babbles childishly towards you as she squeezes you tight. You feel her nuzzling into your neck, softly kissing your skin as she holds you. You lean limply against her... like the doll she wants you to be.

"I want to be this close... forever...." Misa murmurs hopefully as she holds you like a child with a toy. You squirm a bit when she sits on the bed and pulls you on her lap. However, a tight squeeze around your hip is enough to prevent your fight.

"If you look cute in this one... I bet you'll look cute in all of them!" Misa comments, mostly to herself as she looks over the clothes she bought. You reluctantly sit on her lap, hiding the fatigue in your eyes.

The way Misa holds you... the way Misa dresses you... it make you feel less than human. You feel like a pet, coddled and held... always waiting for their owner to come home. The thought makes you want to cry but you've learned to hold it back.

Having Misa come home and pay attention to you like this reminds you of what she's forced you to be...

A pretty doll for her to caress and coo over... a toy for her to love... yet not a proper partner with the freedom you wish you had.

[archangeldyke-all]

Have u ever written the NSFW alphabet for sev? :)

i have NOT omg this is such a good idea

men and minors dni

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)- until she meets you sev doesn't really care about aftercare. but you make her feel all soft and sweet, and after your first time, she's got this unusual urge to just... hold you. luckily for her, she doesn't have to go through the horrors of asking you to cuddle, because you flop down right on top of her and nuzzle against her neck. she melts. after the first time, sevika's addicted to after-fucking cuddles and kisses. she'll pout and whine if you try to get up before you've fulfilled your mandatory 30 minutes-3 hours of cuddling.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)- on herself, i think sevika loves her thighs. fuck. she'd have to be blind not to love those thick thunder thighs. on you? she'll never tell you this (she'll say it's your ass or tits) but it's your smile. every time you smile, especially at her, sevika's knees go wobbly, and her heart melts a bit.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)- she's so nasty. she loves your cum. she'll play with it and lick it all up when you're finished. she'll wipe her cum on your lips or cheeks, giggling at the way you groan and squirm. she loves making a mess with you.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)- idk! i don't think sevika has dirty secrets, she's very direct and forthcoming. ok, ok, here's something i just thought of, i think she's constantly stealing your panties. she'll take them off you to fuck, but instead of throwing them over her shoulder, she'll shove them in her back pocket. it's not until you guys move in together and you find a stack of your undies next to hers in her dresser that you figure out where all your underwear was going lmaoo

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)- Very Experienced. she knows exactly what she's doing, no doubt.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)- doggystyle. or mating press if she wants to see your face while you cum.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)-sevika never considered laughing during sex until she met you. she was a little confused and slightly offended when you started giggling your first time together, until you grinned at her and pulled her down for a kiss, telling you how much fun you're having. it was like something clicked for her in her head. she was like 'oh shit, wait, sex can be goofy.' anyways, you guys haven't fucked once without some giggles.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)- full bush. FULL BUSH. full bush and a lovely happy trail, and armpit hair. she doesn't shave. full bush.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)- like a lot of these other answers, sevika doesn't have romantic sex until she meets you. don't get me wrong, you guys fuck nasty all the time, but sevika is also obsessed with making love to you. she's soft for you.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)-she's really rough with herself, smacking her cunt, grinding against corners of tables, rubbing her clit until it's sore. i don't think she likes penetrating herself, she just sticks to clit stuff. and once she figures out how to make her mech fingers vibrate? that's all she ever does.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)- god, what kinks doesn't she have? she's down to try most things once, and usually, she likes them.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)- she loves fucking in public, you can't convince me otherwise. outside, in the car, in a dark alley, in a locked public bathroom... she loves the thrill.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)- she's usually got pretty good control of when and where she's turned on, but then she meets you and she finds herself soaking her panties from stupid shit like watching you try to open a pickle jar or trim your nose hairs. she thinks she's going insane, but she can't help herself. she just finds everything about you so fucking sexy.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)-hmmm... i don't think she'd want to hurt you. a little impact play and choking is fine, but actually hurting you is off the table. so much of her life is violence and inflicting pain, i think she has harsh boundaries drawn in her head about who and when it's appropriate to be violent, and when it isn't. and you're firmly in the 'protect' camp.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)-she loves giving head, it's her favorite part of sex-- it's a powertrip for her. she also loves receiving head, especially when you keep eye contact with her from between her legs. she cums pathetically fast when you're between her legs, batting your eyes at her as you eat her out.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)- usually pretty fast and rough, but she's becoming a very big fan of slow and sensual with you too. a lot of times your fucks start fast and rough, but halfway through she gets distracted by how pretty you are and slows down, adjusts you until she's kissing you, and then continues with slow, deep, sensual strokes.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)- sevika loves a quickie are you kidding? anytime, anywhere, that's her motto.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)- always down to experiment, but she won't do anything until she's been properly educated and set firm boundaries with you.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)- sevika can go all night long. she cums pretty quick when you've got your hands on her, but she recovers fast. she's insatiable. she can fuck you for hours and hours, and then be ready to go again before you guys can even finish your 'clean off' shower.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)- i don't think she uses toys on herself (except her vibrating fingers) but she has an entire chest full of fun toys and vibes and ropes and lubes to use on you.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)- she's a huge fucking tease, especially when she knows you guys can't fuck. like, in public, at dinners, meetings, in the grocery store, she'll be groping you and kissing your neck at any opportunity. but when it comes to teasing you in bed? she can't resist your pretty begging whines for long. making you cum is just as satisfying to her as making herself cum, so she really can't deny you, especially not when you've got tears in your eyes and your cunt is all swollen and wet and inviting.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)- a grunter and a growler. she's got a filthy mouth on her, and she's always lowly murmuring in your ear as she fucks you. she's not very loud, but she's really vocal. totally an 'unh unh unh' kinda woman.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)- she's got super sensitive tits. she can cum almost as quickly from your mouth on her tits as your mouth on her cunt.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)- god, fuck. she's obviously ripped, everywhere. i think she's got cute perky tits and big puffy areolas, stretch marks on the underside of her breasts. she's got big labias, the kind that hang and curl-- they're so fun to suck and lick on. i think she's got a really big, prominent clit, too. and, i think she's got a fine dusting of hair on her ass. she's fucking perfect.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)- i think it's pretty normal actually. it waxes and wanes depending on how she's feeling, where she is in her cycle, etc. but the thing is-- once she's turned on it takes like all day for her to calm back down, even if she fucks or makes herself cum. like once she gets in the horny headspace, she needs a full 8 hours of sleep to get back out of it.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)- immediately, lmaoooo. she didn't used to when she was going to babettes, she'd re-dress and then have a drink and wander home, where'd she smoke then finally sleep. but once she meets you (you, who she loves so much, and feels so safe with) she can't help herself-- the second she's done and you tap out, she's wiping you both clean, kissing your lips soundly, getting you a snack and some water to 'share'-- but the second she's back in bed, she's asleep, curled up on your chest and snoring.

taglist!

@lesbeaniegreenie @fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki

[kandisheek]

FIC REC WEEK 50 – ENDGAME

SERIES: front row seats by Annie D (scaramouche)

Pairing: Steve/Tony, Steve/Peggy Rating: M Words: 27,182 Tags: Branching Timelines, Post-Endgame, Canon Compliant

Summary: A Steve/Tony series that follows one of the branching timelines set up by Avengers: Endgame.

Reasons why I love it: This series is everything I never knew I needed. The way it takes the implications of the Endgame ending and spins them to their furthest possible conclusion is so satisfying. I'm in awe of Annie D for coming up with this, because in my head this is canon now. You can't convince me otherwise.

This series consists of:

Something Beautiful

Pairing: Steve/Tony, Steve/Peggy Rating: T Words: 5,367 Tags: Alternate Reality, 1940s Branching Timeline, Making Up

Summary: In one universe sideways, it’s 2012 and the Avengers have just defeated Loki and the Chitauri. Steve Rogers, who has been out of the ice for almost ten years, wonders if his retaking the shield for this event was a one-off, or if he’s ready to keep it again. It depends on Tony.

Reasons why I love it: I really, really love how Annie D manages to drop all these little tidbits about how MCU-Steve going back in time changed the reality that this other version of Steve now lives in. The changes feel so organic, and it's all due to the way they're woven into the story without ever dumping exposition on the reader. It's legitimately masterful, and one of the reasons why Annie D's writing never fails to impress me. Definitely read this one, it's so good!

Safest Hands

Pairing: Steve/Tony, Steve/Peggy Rating: T Words: 7,080 Tags: Established Relationship, Declarations of Love, Marriage Proposal

Summary: In the one universe sideways, it’s 2016 and the Avengers have fled underground in the wake of what is the worst streak of bad luck they've ever had. Steve, Tony and Natasha are on the run together, and take temporary cover at a friend’s house.

Reasons why I love it: The interactions that Steve has with Grant are so good it kind of makes me mad that this isn't canon. And the absolute trainwreck that is Steve's proposal is so perfect it just feels like everything I love about Stony as a ship. I love this fic to death, along with this entire series!

No Do-Overs

Pairing: Steve/Tony, Steve/Peggy Rating: M Words: 10,097 Tags: Permanent Injury, Angst, Schmoop

Summary: In the one universe sideways, it’s 2018 and the Avengers and their allies have just defeated Thanos. Steve and Tony retreat from the limelight to recover, and are visited by an old friend who has an unusual request.

Reasons why I love it: I can't believe just how much this fic patches up all the holes in the MCU's logic about time-travel. It slots so neatly into canon that it's honestly baffling. I will never not think about this verse when watching Endgame now, and I couldn't be happier about it. Give yourself a treat and read this, because you WILL be impressed!

Twice the Groom

Pairing: Steve/Tony, Steve/Peggy Rating: T Words: 4,028 Tags: Bittersweet, Canonical Past Character Death, Alternate Reality

Summary: Grant Carter, formerly known as Steve Rogers, attends a wedding.

Reasons why I love it: I'm so happy that we get to see Grant's PoV in this fic. In the rest of the series, the implications of what this branching timeline might mean to him is alluded to, but here we get to see it more explicitly. I especially love his conversation with Bucky and the dorky Stony fluff, oh my god, it's so good. This fic is wonderful, and you should give it a read!

Timestamp: Front Row Seats

Pairing: Steve/Tony, Steve/Peggy Rating: G Words: 610 Tags: Multiverse, Canon Divergent, Phase Four

Summary: Steve and Tony may be retired, but they still get called in sometimes. Across universes, even.

Reasons why I love it: Okay, this is the final nail in the coffin – this verse is canon now. I've decided. This is canon and absolutely mandatory reading for any Stony fan. By the power invested in me by absolutely no one, I declare this series an official part of the MCU. Thank me later, and go read it if you haven't already!

[lis-likes-fics]

Kiss Me Through the Phone

Pairings: Steve Harrington x Reader Word Count: 2.1k words Kink: Phone Sex Warnings: NSFW, phone sex, masturbation (m and f), dirty talk, daddy kink, praise... A/N: This is late, ik. I swear I'm working on it but that ADHD and everything is hitting HARD. I can't promise I'll catch up but I can promise that these will get finished so I won't leave you hanging. Enjoy this (late) fic though and I'll hopefully see you again with a new one tomorrow!

"Don't you think you should probably be getting to bed, babe?"

Steve raises a brow as he speaks into the receiver holding the phone to his ear as he awaits your response. You called him hours ago to talk while you did homework. The first half hour consisted of him teasing you because you still had homework to do while he graduated the year before. He kept calling you a "literal child", to which you replied, "Then I'm dating a pervert." He promptly shut up.

But now it's midnight, and you ditched the remainder of your homework a couple hours ago. It's late, and you technically have school in the morning. You aren't ready to hang up but Steve is always trying to take care of you, and this is one of those times when he's trying to enforce that—even though he'd rather die than hang up the phone.

"And, you know, I would but…" you trail off on the other end, trying to come up with an excuse and falling short as you shrug, "I just don't want to."

He rolls his eyes and laughs. "Go to bed."

"You can't make me."

"I'm going to."

"How? You're not even here."

"I'm going to drive to your house and make you."

"If you drove to my house, I'd convince you to do something much better than sleeping…" Steve can hear the smirk in your voice, and he thinks he's going to die if you keep using your charm on him like this. He's already horny enough all the time as it is, you don't need to make it worse with suggestive comments you can currently live up to.

"You drive me crazy," he answers truthfully.

He hears you giggle and smiles. "That's good. Keeps you on your toes."

He shakes his head and hears you shuffle around. When you curse under your breath, he hums. "What?"

"Nothin'. Got the cord wrapped around my hand and it tangled a little." A pause. "There."

"Yeah, well, you probably like that shit, don't you? Fuckin' weirdo."

You laugh quietly, trying not to disturb the rest of the people sleeping in your house. "Don't kink shame me!"

He raises his brows, "What if kink shaming is my kink?"

You hum, "It's not. You like to be called Daddy. Which is admittedly weirder."

He scoffs, ignoring the heat in his cheeks when you say it. "No, it's not."

You giggle again. "Yeah, it is. Daddy."

He licks his lips. "You think so? Baby?"

He hopes you'll say no because, otherwise, his "baby" makes him sound like a creep.

"No," you say, an angel. You miss his little relieved breath. "You wanna know what I like?"

"What do you like, baby?" he asks, less joking this time and more fond.

"I like your hands..." Your voice is quieter now, speaking in a secret whisper between the two of you in the cover of the night.

We're doing this, Steve thinks, excited.

"Yeah?" he murmurs. "Where do you like them?"

"Well… I've been wanting a new necklace. I think that'd work just fine," you smile shyly.

He can see it, kissing you all nice with his hand wrapped around your throat. His pants suddenly feel really tight.

"Where else would you like it?" he wonders.

"I dunno," you mutter, shy suddenly. Steve thinks you're weird. You're almost always the one to start something like this, and then you get shy and quiet when he plays along with you. He thinks you're cute.

"You don't know?"

"Mm-mm," you say.

He smiles, licking his bottom lip. "You know where I'd like it?"

"Hm?"

"On your thigh," he breaths. His hand moves to rest on his own thigh. He hears your breath hitch. "I'd love to feel your thighs. I miss 'em."

It takes a moment for you to respond again. "Where else would you put them?"

"Where else do you want me to put them?" he counters. He knows you don't like when he does that—or, you don't favor it. He knows how it makes you squirm, when he makes you tell him what you want. You're never good at telling him.

Your voice becomes really small, really shy. "I dunno."

"You dunno?" he asks, smiling. "Where do you want me to put my hands?"

Steve can imagine you on your bed with the phone pressed to your ear, playing with the cord as you try to come up with a response that isn't "I dunno".

"Just tell me. Don't worry about soundin' weird," he says.

You take a breath. "I want your hand…"

You trail off and he has to contain his laugh. "Where?" he asks again. "On your hands? On your tits? Inside of you?"

A pause. "All of the above?"

He does laugh this time, clutching the phone. "Where do you want me the most?"

You clear your throat a little. "Inside me."

"I want 'em inside you, too."

He hears you moan lightly, and now he has to undo his belt.

"Would you like that, baby? For me to put my fingers inside you? I'd have you squirming like crazy."

"Yeah," you whisper back. "What do you want me to do?"

"What do I want you to do?" he repeats, smiling. "You don't needa do anything. I'll take care of you."

You chuckle lightly. "Yeah, but… what do you want me to do? Do you want me to touch you or…?"

He feels like teasing you. "You mean, like, jerk me off? Or did you wanna use your mouth, dirty girl?" He can imagine you biting your lip, trying to hide your face away from him.

"Did you want that?" you murmur.

"Did you?" he counters.

You laugh a little. "Answer my fucking question, dummy."

He laughs as well, "Yeah, I do." His amusement dies down a little, returning to little secret words. "I really want it, but I wanna spread you open and eat you up more."

He hears you moan again. And then you moan again, and his interest is piqued, along with something else…

"Are you touching yourself?" he asks, a smile in his voice as he calls you out.

You get shy again. "Maybe a little."

"How much is a little?" You don't respond. You just moan again.

He's too hard to ignore it anymore. He unbuckles his tight jeans and takes himself out of his boxers. He brushes his thumb over his tip, red and weeping as he closes his eyes and sighs shallowly.

Your voice grabs his attention again. “Are you touchin’ yourself now?”

He chuckles lightly, too breathy to be subtle. “Can you blame me when you’re makin’ those pretty sounds in my ear?” He strokes himself slowly. “God, what I’d do to be there right now. I’m so in love with you.”

Your laugh comes out as a tiny whimper, your voice just as breathy as his as you thrust your fingers inside of your and sigh. “You’re too nice to me.”

“I’m not nice enough to you,” he disagrees. “You deserve the world, baby.”

“How about– Mmh– How about we just start with your voice in my ear, huh?” you mumble. “What would you do if you were here right now, Stevie?”

He makes you swear never to tell anyone but he loves that nickname. You only ever use it when you’re feeling really soft and shy, in the comfort of just his company when he’s being especially sweet and you’re a pile of mush. He wants you tucked under his arm, and he wants to kiss you stupid, but he has to settle for just a smile through the phone and a few words that don’t accurately describe how strongly he feels for you.

“If I were there right now, I would lay you on the bed and put your pretty thighs over my shoulder.” You shudder on a moan, presumably pushing your fingers deeper inside of yourself and curling. Steve keeps going. “I’d fucking devour you and then kiss you all over your body—which is just perfect, by the way—and then I’d fuck you dumb.”

You moan. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he breathes, taking his lotion from his drawer and smearing it in his hand. He strokes his cock a little faster, wrapping his fist around himself and squeezing as his head tips back and his lips part, a breathy moan slipping from them. “I’d fucking split you open on my cock.” He knows you love it when he says that. You always melt in his hands whenever he says things like this. “You’d be cryin’ f’me.”

You’re so lost in your mind, imagining him doing these things to you whilst thinking about his hands inside your pussy instead of your own. “Where would you put me?”

He’s happy to tell you. “We’d start out with you on top. I’d put you in my lap and let you ride me until your little legs got all weak and tired. Then I’d lay you down and fuck you with your legs around my neck. Have you screaming my name.”

Your voice is pitchier now, and he swears he can hear the faint sound of your pussy squelching with the rhythm of your insistent fingers. He pulses in his hand, his hips jerking up into his hand every so often as he grinds into his fist. He’s fucking his hand by now, so lost in thought that he can’t help but get a little carried away imagining his fist is your tight pussy.

“Which name?” you whimper. “Steve or Daddy?”

He verbally shudders. “Both.”

“Which one do you want the most?”

He chuckles darkly, aware of the way you turn his question around like he had done to you before. “Maybe you should call me Daddy.” He groans. “You’ve gotten a little out of line since we last did something like this…”

“Maybe I should, Daddy,” you reply back, immediately followed by a whine. He wants so badly to be there to watch you touch yourself, to watch you try to put your little fingers inside of you and hit all the spots he does. He can imagine so vividly you trying to replicate the way he makes you feel. "Need you to…remind me who I belong to."

He's so pent up as he listens to you. He can't help when a few stray groans make their way out of him. "You know who you belong to. You're mine, baby."

"'M yours," you moan, wet sounds reaching the phone and filling Steve's ears with sweet music as he fists himself faster. "I need you."

"Yeah?" he hums. "You need Daddy to fuck you nice and deep, baby?"

"Yes." A moan. "I miss you so much."

"I miss you, baby," he says, too fond and too affectionate and too far gone to fight his urge to get in his car and go to see you right now. But he would die before he left this call.

He's close, he can feel it creeping up on him as his hips jerk up into his hand. By the way you gasp and moan into the phone, he can tell you're reaching your breaking point as well.

"You gonna cum for me, babygirl?" Steve asks, listening closely.

"Yeah."

"You gonna cum all over those pretty fingers?"

"Yes."

"Fuck," he huffs. "Do it for me, baby. Cum for me."

He can hear you try to stay quiet, your muffled gasp as a deep breath fills your lung on a whimper. "Oh, fuck, Daddy!"

He curses under his breath, your little whimpers and whine as you cum and moan his name bringing him closer and closer until he can't hold it anymore.

His mouth falls open and his grunt melts into a rough whimper as he cums after you. He feels the warm, sticky release coat his chest. As his pleasure wanes and he feels like he can think straight again, he sighs deeply into the phone.

"Fuck." He hears you sigh heavily. "You okay, baby?"

A pause. And then.

"Yeah." You sigh, "Fuck, that's better."

He smiles. "Been thinking about it?"

"All day." Your voice is breathy, slurred together like you're going to pass out at any moment.

He runs a hand through his hair, "Well, when I see you tomorrow, we can reenact it." He grabs at the shirt he'd taken off a long time ago, wiping himself clean as he listens to your steady breath through the phone. "You want that?"

"Mmm," you agree.

He smiles fondly. "You still with me?" He can see you dozing off into your pillow, and he wishes he could feel your warmth against him.

"Mmm," you hum again.

He lowers his voice to accommodate for your sleepiness, "I'm gonna hang up, baby."

"Hmm-mm."

"I love you," he says, kissing into the phone and wishing he could kiss you.

"'ove you, t-mm," you mumble, barely coherent but trying for him.

He chuckles lightly. "Goodnight."

"Mmm."

Steve the Babysitter taglist: @samz31 @sparkletash @fandomgirl17 @marjoriea13 @param8re @anotherblackreader Stranger Things taglist: @activebliss @life-on-needs @killerqueen-ofwillowgreen @emmalee-01 @sw34ter-w34ther @hellfire1986baby @gublur @allofmari @redwineandnicotine @the-cryptid @katsukis1wife @chaoticcancer @papichulo120627 @emistrash Tag yourself here...

[channydraws]

I feel you, I still like Wooly and think he also has reasons for acting how he does (probably trauma and not wanting to rock the boat, either because he thinks it might get worse or still believes if they play nice Hameln will them go), but Amanda!!

Every time new chapter came out I wanted to hug her more, but in this one I might actually try and reach out in my screen and pull her out by more sheer need to hug her and not let go. Like it's no wonder others tried to risk it and save her! She sounds so lonely and miserable, literally ready to trust any half-decent stranger because it's more than what she has otherwise.

Also she literally says she "felt like she could [trust Wooly] too" in one of dialogue options! And when she tells her sad little speech about not knowing she can trust anyone anymore that stays the same, she side-eyes Wooly, and he looks very guilty there. They still care about each other - Amanda sounds genuinely distressed when opossum hurts him, Wooly burying the hole for her when they find dirty rags inside - but there's this bitterness of betrayal somewhere there. Something went down between them, and it feels like it was (mostly?) Wooly's fault.

YOU GET MEEEEEE!!

I love Wooly. But the mere fact that the Hameln logo comes back when HE comes back makes me not trust him as much.

And idk. People mention Wooly's change in personality and assume it's cause he was replaced?

But it could also be because he realized he can't die from whatever Amanda throws at him?

Cause he's ACTIVELY annoying her at some points, to me it feels like he's gotten cocky. And I know he's doing it in a "friendly" way, but now is not the time when Amanda is still upset at you?? Girly is barely holding on to NOT kill him again.

And again, the way he's looking at the camera while saying "but Amanda I'm your best friend!" sounds SO disingenuous. Like he's trying to convince the audience more.

It's giving that once scene from The Truman show.

I believe Wooly's a victim here too it's just... how he deals with Amanda is so-

M.

[crqzysierrafan]

KIDS HEADCANNONS

YOU CAN'T TELL ME THEY AREN'T THEY'RE KIDS. I HAVE MY PROOF.

ok So zee is def heatherra's child.

zee looks sm like sierra and heather. he mostly haves sierras genes like skin-tone, head-shape but def not her stalking obsession. she prob got over it. he haves kinda heathers hair color but if sierras hair color was a dark shade brown he def would of looked like sierra more.

do I have to explain myself.

SHE LEGIT LOOKS LIKE HER DAD MORE!!

HAIR COLOR, EYE COLOR, EVERYTHING!!

but sense emma keeps getting back together with chase n stuff, she probably have trouble trusting love as she might gotten that influence from her parents from watching total drama season 3.

She looks like scott more but she also haves dawns eyes. I hadn't watch disventure camp yet so Sorry If my reasons for them are kinda incorrect but if she was like scott (cheating on the games and stuff) then my case is closed. she is they're kid. period.

dude.

Axel looks alot like Courtney but she maybe gotten influence from Duncan since she haves alot of piercing and additude.

She haves Courtney's color scheme.

"Oh but what abt her liking zombies?" IM CONVINCED SHE WATCHED ZOMBIE OR HORROR MOVIES WHEN SHE WAS LITTLE.

Mk as nemmas child.

SHE GOTTEN HER ADDITUDE FROM NOAH, SHE LOOKS LIKE EMMA.

noah would def bully kids on roblox with m when she was little.

WELP THOSE ARE MY REASONS. YOU CANNOT TELL ME OTHERWISE.

[catws-anniversary]

Thank you to everybody who has contributed to this event! We've surpassed 260 creations and there will be another masterlist at the weekend to pick up the last few that are in the queue and coming in throughout the last day or so of the event. We'll be posting a wrap up message too!

All contributions below are steve/bucky unless indicated otherwise.

THEME: TO THE END OF THE LINE

The REAL Captain America the Winter Soldier Poster by @pooslie [fanart]

the dream i dreamed was not denied me... by @outerjersey [fanart]

Tried to drift but don't know how by @dharmasharks [fanfic, e]

untitled by @somanywords [fanart]

Til the end of the line by @buckys-wintersoldier [fanfic, t]

self-portrait by @skullfragments [meta, fanart]

To The End of the Line by @thisonesatellite [video]

cause i'm with you til the end of the line pal by @gyokujyn [remix]

Prompt: "Schoolyard and battlefield"

because you're the reason (swear it) by @howliesbarnes [fanfic, t]

we've had too many next times already by @gyokujyn [remix]

Prompt: 1940s

Dig My Grave, Both Wide and Deep by @hail-americas-ass [fanfic, t]

i stopped remembering the exact weight of your hand and now i only know it with a knife by @gyokujyn [remix]

1943 Tastes of 1949 With a Tinge of Illusion by @vostok3-ka [poetry, bucky barnes]

Inseparable on schoolyard and battlefield (Day 10) by @voylitscope [fanfic, g]

Prompt: Devotion

Devotion by @yourbuckies [gifset]

What if Bucky came to the hospital? by @estelior [fanart]

we have time (do we?) by @unlifeira [fanfic, t]

Devotion by @yourbuckies [gifset]

the safe word is jersey by @gyokujyn [remix]

but you can't seem to convince them of that by @gyokujyn [remix]

you either die young or live long enough to become the cautionary tale by @gyokujyn [remix]

Devotion by @ace-bucket [fanart]

Prompt: Helicarrier

Helicarrier [fanfic, t, steve rogers]

Are You A Mirage, Upon This Arctic Tundra? by @theflailing [fanfic, t]

You Know Me by @steveybucky [fanfic, t]

this is not what getting railed means by @gyokujyn [remix]

sorry officer we'll remember to use the gag next time by @gyokujyn [remix]

I need you today by @metalbvcky [gifset]

the good news is it can't be illegal if there's no word for it by @gyokujyn [remix]

yes even that by @gyokujyn [remix]

Prompt: Identity Porn

that'll teach me by @gyokujyn [remix]

walt disney did not prepare me for this body count by @gyokujyn [remix]

Prompt: Reunion

For Reasons Wretched and Divine (Ch.10) by @mandyyvibes [fanfic, m, polyamory]

or die trying by @gyokujyn [remix]

Prompt: Favorite Stucky Scene

Favorite Stucky Scene by @riricitaa [gifset]

Other works

HTP Fic Recs: Hidden Gems by @5ummit [rec list, hydra trash party]

sometimes i hold you closer (just to know you're real) by @moodymelanist [fanfic, t]

For You, I Would Cross The Line by @partofthefandom and @buckybarneslovescats [fanfic, t]

Heaven Only Knows [fanfic, t]

Don't Look Back [fanfic, t, sharon/rumlow]

On Another War [fanfic, t, sam wilson, natasha romanoff, steve rogers, bucky barnes]