#this was a submission and a damn good one

[batsovergotham]

🦇 𝗛𝗼𝘄 𝘁𝗼 𝗪𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗲 𝗠𝗮𝗿𝗸 𝗚𝗿𝗮𝘆𝘀𝗼𝗻 | A DETAILED GUIDE

regarding the project: whether or not you have read the comics, this is a straightforward tutorial for anyone wishing to write mark grayson more precisely. brief notes. genuine emotional breakdowns. no lecturing. no gatekeeping. just a straightforward, honest look at what really shapes him and how to use the source material to portray him accurately.

a/n: i posted the poll about making a how to write mark grayson guide today, but honestly... i’ve been working on this for a while, ever since i posted some fics. it started because a few people mentioned that some of my mark breakdowns helped them with their fics, and i thought it might be nice to have something more detailed all in one place. so even though the poll went up today, this guide’s been in the works for a bit hehe i really hope it helps anyone who wants to write mark more true to the comics! thanks for reading!

in the invincible comics, if there’s one thing about mark grayson, it’s that he’s stubborn as hell when it comes to his ideals. like, painfully stubborn. there are so many times where he just flat-out refuses to back down from what he believes is right, even when everyone around him is telling him he’s being naive or that it’s gonna blow up in his face. and since the show hasn’t gotten to a lot of these moments yet, let’s talk about some comic only examples that really show just how stubborn (and sometimes reckless) mark’s idealism can be.

okay, so first off: the whole fight between mark and cecil stedman (the government guy who runs the GDA)? it's turning point of mark's view of the GDA and what it truly means to be a hero. it also begins to shed him of his naivety.

basically, mark finds out cecil’s been doing all this shady stuff behind the scenes like building an army of zombie cyborg supersoldiers (the reanimen), working with literal evil clones, just... real villain behavior. cecil’s whole mindset is like, “yeah it’s awful, but it’s for the greater good.” and mark? hates it. the second he finds out, he’s ready to fight.

and cecil’s response? he doesn’t even try to explain himself anymore. he just sends a whole damn army of reanimen after mark to try and beat him into submission. it’s brutal. mark gets swarmed, blasted with this crazy sonic device they rigged up, he’s getting absolutely trashed, and he still refuses to back down. he barely escapes, pulls some of the guardians together, and marches right back to finish what he started.

they trash the reanimen, it’s a mess, and at the end, cecil’s standing there like, “i did what had to be done.” and mark, bleeding and furious, basically tells him to shove it. he straight-up quits. no backup, no government support, nothing just him deciding he’d rather be completely alone than be part of something he thinks is wrong. like... that’s mark grayson. stubborn to the end.

Universa Arc.

so, universa’s this alien warrior who shows up on earth basically trying to steal the planet’s energy to save her dying world. mark and eve fight her, they win, she gets thrown in prison. standard superhero stuff, right? most heroes would’ve been like “cool, problem solved” and moved on. but not mark. mark can’t let it go.

he actually goes out of his way to visit her in jail. just to talk. and when he finds out she was only doing all of this because her people were desperate not because she was evil or power-hungry or anything he immediately goes into “let’s fix this” mode. like, no hesitation.

and he doesn't just feel bad about it and leave, no, mark convinces the warden to let her go, helps her find a way to safely get the energy she needs without hurting anyone, and sends her back home to save her people. universa is so stunned she literally promises to repay him someday.

it’s honestly one of the purest things he ever does. he refuses to just see her as “the bad guy.” he sees the person underneath. he believes that people, even enemies, can do the right thing if you give them a real chance.

was it a little naive? yeah, kinda. but it worked because mark’s the kind of guy who means it. like, really means it. and people can tell. that’s why his idealism hits so hard. he never gives up on the idea that there’s a better way.

Oliver and Allen VS Mark

okay, so one of the most heartbreaking examples of mark’s idealism clashing with the people he loves is the whole scourge virus situation.

basically, allen the alien and mark’s half-brother oliver come up with this plan to release a modified version of the scourge virua, the same virus that almost wiped out the viltrumites, to finish the job for good.

and mark? mark is horrified.

he’s not just worried about the viltrumites (even though yeah, some of them deserve it). he’s thinking about the humans. he’s thinking about the risk. he’s thinking about how unleashing something that dangerous ever is just crossing a moral line you can’t uncross.

so he tries to stop them. and it turns into a full-on fight. it’s messy, it’s emotional, and somewhere in the middle of it all, oliver, desperate and panicking, accidentally infects mark with the virus. mark almost dies.

and even after all that, after being betrayed and almost killed by his own brother, mark doesn’t blow up in rage. he’s just heartbroken. because for mark, the real tragedy isn’t what happened to him. it’s that people he loves were willing to risk something so horrific, to cross a line he’s spent his whole life refusing to cross.

like... he would literally rather fight his own family, risk dying, than give up on his ideals. he genuinely believes that the ends don’t justify the means, even if it costs him everything.

The Final Battle with Thragg and Mark's Monologue

by the end of the comic, we really get the full picture of who mark grayson has become. all that stubborn idealism, independence, and moral conviction he’s built up over the years? it all comes to a head during his final battle with thragg.

and the thing is...mark’s not just throwing punches. he’s saying everything he’s believed, everything that’s come to define him. he straight-up rejects thragg’s whole worldview, the viltrumite mindset of "strength over everything." and while they’re fighting, mark gives this monologue (mid-fight, because of course he does) that honestly just hits you right in the chest:

“you see us as people living only for conquest, measured only by the size of our empire. no room for peace. no room for compassion. no room for love… the truth is you were holding us back… we can be a force for good. we can spread peace throughout the galaxy. we can love and be loved. we can be happy.”

like... that’s so mark. even after everything he’s been through, even while he's locked in a life or death fight, he still believes people, even viltrumites, can be better.

and it���s not just talk either. this is what mark actually wants. he’s trying to turn an empire built on war into something good. it’s insanely idealistic, yeah, but it’s 100% real. and what’s really cool is that he’s doing it his way. not the way any viltrumite leader before him would’ve done it. this is mark’s independence on full blast, he's building something new, completely breaking away from the old viltrumite pride and brutality.

thragg, of course, can’t even wrap his head around it. and mark beats him, physically and symbolically. it’s basically proving that compassion and strength aren’t opposites. mark’s showing that being a good person doesn’t mean being weak, and being cruel doesn’t mean you’re strong.

if you’re writing fanfiction that covers late-series or post-series mark, this moment is a huge thing to keep in mind. by now, he’s not the uncertain teenager anymore. he knows who he is and what he stands for. but he hasn’t lost that earnestness, that moral fire he had as a kid, if anything, it’s gotten stronger and sharper.

mark taking down thragg with conviction shows the kind of leader he’s grown into. he’s not just reacting to problems anymore; he’s actively trying to shape a better future. people look up to him, even people who used to be enemies, because of the integrity he shows. not because they’re scared of him, but because they respect him.

another super important thing: even after all that, mark doesn’t turn into some dictator. like, it would’ve been so easy for him to say, “i’m the strongest, i’m in charge now.” but he doesn’t. he stays focused on making things better. he pushes for the viltrumites to actually protect earth, to integrate, to live differently. he keeps that humility.

even at the height of his power, he’s worrying about being a good husband, a good dad (the finale shows his future family life), and living up to his ideals. he never stops checking himself because deep down, he’s terrified of turning into what his dad was.

so if you’re writing a future!mark or an alt ending where he’s leading the viltrumites or running with huge responsibilities, always keep that in mind: no matter how powerful he is, he’s still that same kid who’s scared of losing his humanity and who’ll do anything to protect it.

Now that we understand the Idealism surrounding his character, let's discuss how to actually write him.

okay so if you’re writing mark grayson in fanfics, one of the biggest things you have to remember is that he is not a soft boy. he is not a “yes man.” he is not some passive sunshine character who just agrees with whatever the hell his friends or love interest says because he’s so sweet and loyal. that’s just not who he is.

mark is kind. he’s empathetic. he loves deeply. but he is stubborn as hell when it comes to his beliefs. like painfully, frustratingly stubborn.

he doesn’t just roll over when someone he loves disagrees with him. he doesn’t abandon his moral compass to avoid conflict. if anything, he’ll fight even harder against the people he cares about because he believes so strongly in what he thinks is right.

this is the guy who:

tells cecil (the literal head of the GDA, who helped him post omni-man) to fuck off to his face because cecil’s methods are too corrupt.

tries to rehabilitate a literal eco-terrorist (dinosaurus) because he genuinely thinks they could do good together, even when everyone else calls him insane.

punches his own little brother and one of his best friends (oliver and allen) in the face when they want to use the scourge virus to wipe out the viltrumites, because he refuses to believe genocide is ever the answer even when it would save billions of lives.

goes into exile on an alien planet with his family instead of accepting a “peaceful” dictatorship run by robot, because he would rather lose everything than live under tyranny. then, he eventually comes back and kills robot himself.

like... mark is kind, yes. but he’s not compliant. he’s not someone you can easily sway just because you’re close to him. he doesn’t make decisions based on what’s easiest or what’ll hurt the fewest feelings. he makes decisions based on what he believes is right, even if it blows up his relationships. even if it hurts people he loves. even if it isolates him.

so when you’re writing him:

let him argue. let him push back when something doesn’t sit right with him.

let him get angry when his beliefs are challenged. he’s emotional. he’s reactive.

let him stand his ground even when it costs him.

let him care so deeply it hurts him sometimes.

don’t be afraid to show that he’s wrong, too because sometimes his stubbornness backfires horribly (like trusting dinosaurus). but even when he’s wrong, he’s never malicious. he’s never apathetic. he’s trying.

he’s not cold. he’s not cruel. but he’s also not a people-pleaser. he’s willing to lose friends, mentors, allies, and even his home if it means doing what he feels is right.

common mischaracterizations you should avoid:

making him a soft, easily manipulated boyfriend who never questions anything.

making him prioritize romance over his core values without struggle. (like, if you have him abandoning his morals instantly for love, it feels wrong. he might bend, but it would mess him up inside and cause conflict.) DO NOT CONFLATE HIS MORALS WITH WHAT THE GDA BELIEVES!!

making him unrealistically calm and detached. mark feels everything with his whole chest. when he’s hurt or angry, it shows. he doesn't bottle it up perfectly.

writing him like he's just “along for the ride” emotionally. mark makes decisions. he moves the plot. even when he’s wrong, he’s active, not passive.

writing mark grayson right means letting him be a mess sometimes. it means letting him get bloodied up in fights he probably can’t win. it means letting him make terrible mistakes because he believed too hard in someone. it means letting him love people and lose people and still keep standing, still keep hoping. still keep fighting for the better world he dreams of.

because that's what makes him invincible. not the powers. not the strength. it’s the fact that even when everything in him is broken, his body, his mind, etc, he keeps fighting for what he believes in.

bad vs good characterization examples for mark

example 1

bad: "are you sure about this?" he asked, voice trembling. "i mean... if you think it's right, i'll go along with it. i trust you." (he says nothing else. he just follows along. no hesitation, no conflict, just blind loyalty.)

why it's wrong: this makes him sound like a passive puppy who just goes wherever the story/author pushes him. mark is loyal, yeah, but he’s not a yes man. if something feels wrong to him, he’s going to say something even if it starts a fight.

good: "i don’t know if i can go with you on this," mark said, frowning. "i get why you want to do it... i do. but it doesn’t sit right with me. it’s not who i want to be." his hands flexed at his sides, restless. "i’m not trying to fight you. i’m trying to make you understand." (there’s tension. there’s conflict. but the love is still there. he’s standing his ground because he cares.)

example 2

bad: mark nodded immediately. "you're right. i didn’t even think about it that way. i’ll change everything i'm doing for you." (he has no independent thought. he never questions anything. he changes core beliefs instantly.)

why it's wrong: mark can compromise sometimes, but it’s never instant. if he changes his mind, it comes from hard conversations, real consequences, or deep emotional shifts. he doesn’t just flip a switch because someone asked him nicely.

good: "maybe you’re right," mark muttered after a long beat, his jaw locked. "but you can’t expect me to throw away everything i believe just because it's easier." he exhaled, frustrated, running a hand through his ebony hair. "i need to think. i can't just... pretend this doesn't matter."

key reminders when writing mark:

he’s stubborn. like cartoonishly stubborn. even when it’s inconvenient. even when it costs him everything.

he’s idealistic. he genuinely believes doing the right thing matters, even if nobody else believes it anymore.

he’s emotional. he feels everything with his whole chest. anger, sadness, guilt, hope, it’s never muted or put down for the sake of plot purposes.

he’s reactive. mark doesn’t always think things through. if he sees something he doesn't like or someone he loves in danger, he moves first, thinks later.

he’s not a people pleaser. even if he loves you, if you’re doing something he thinks is wrong, he’s gonna call you out. loudly.

he fights with people he loves. not because he loves them less but because he loves them too much to let them destroy themselves or cause harm to other people that causes conflict in what he believes in.

he’s not a soft boy. he’s kind. he’s empathetic. but he’s also willing to bloody his fists and risk his life for what he believes in.

he’s not passive. mark makes choices. even when they’re bad ones. he’s an active character who moves the plot forward.

he’s wrong sometimes. his idealism blinds him. he trusts the wrong people. he fucks up. and he owns it (eventually).

he doesn't believe violence is the first answer (especially at the end of the series). but when it’s necessary, he doesn’t hold back. if he’s in a fight, he’s there to win.

he can’t be guilt tripped into giving up his morals. you can hurt him. you can betray him. but you can’t make him become someone he’s not.

he keeps hoping. even after all the betrayal, death, loss, heartbreak he's gone through, he never fully lets go of hope.

NOTABLE MOMENTS TO HELP CHARACTERIZE HIM IN YOUR FIC

“DON’T EVER THREATEN MY FAMILY!!” – Issue #33.

this is mark at his absolute breaking point just pure protective rage, screaming at angstrom who just hurt his mom. it’s a simple line, but it hits because you can feel everything behind it. the second someone he loves is in danger, mark doesn’t hold back. he doesn’t care about looking heroic or calm, he just loses it. and that’s something to keep in mind if you’re writing him, when mark’s temper explodes, it’s not about his pride or getting even. it’s about protecting the people he loves. period. he’s like a lion protecting his cubs its all instinct, no hesitation. so if you’re ever writing a scene where a villain’s threatening someone close to him, picture mark practically shaking, shouting until his voice breaks, just burning with that raw, desperate anger. it’s not polished or composed, it’s messy, it’s emotional, and it’s all love underneath it.

“THIS IS BEING A SUPER-HERO? I'M JUST STOPPING CRAP FROM HAPPENING AT ANY GIVEN MOMENT. I'M NOT DOING ANYTHING REALLY WORTHWHILE… …AND WHEN I FAIL… MY GOD, I FAIL BIG. WE HAVE THE POWER TO CHANGE THE WORLD, EVE… …BUT INSTEAD THINGS JUST KEEP GETTING WORSE.” – Issue #81.

it’s not just some random thought he brushes off. you can tell it hits him. like... what if everything he’s been doing hasn’t actually changed anything? what if he’s just patching holes in something that’s already falling apart? it’s honestly a gut-punch moment because mark is usually so stubbornly hopeful. but even he isn’t immune to wondering if any of it’s enough. and it’s such an important part of who he is, he doesn’t just blindly believe everything’s fine. he feels it when it isn’t. he questions himself. he struggles with it. if you’re writing fanfic and you want to show a more introspective or vulnerable side of him, especially after something rough happens, this is the kind of feeling you want to tap into. not him giving up, but that raw, exhausted moment where he’s like, what’s the point if nothing ever really changes? it makes him feel real. because even with all the optimism and fight he’s got, sometimes the weight of it still catches up to him.

HOW TO WRITE HIS HUMOR/MORE LIGHT-HEARTED SIDE

mark isn’t all heavy drama and serious fights, he actually has a ton of light, funny moments, especially early on. like when he first starts getting his powers and his coworker asks him about his future, he just says

“finish high school, I guess.”

which is funny because he already knows he’s about to step into something way bigger.

there are little moments like that all over, times when he’s play fighting with william, or throwing out corny jokes, especially about stuff like science dog (his favorite comic, seance dog in the show). even though a lot of this guide focuses on the heavy, emotional stuff, it’s important not to forget these slice of life stuff

if you’re writing fanfics with him, adding in those little jokes or funny lines can really help keep mark in character. think about it like how spider-man cracks jokes during fights except mark’s version is a little less snarky and more dorky he jokes the most when he’s around people he’s comfortable with, and it’s not because he’s not taking things seriously it’s because that humor is just a part of who he is.

DISCLAIMER!

one of the biggest differences between comic mark and show mark is that comic mark is definitely rougher around the edges, especially early on. he’s not the super polished, always perfect hero type. in the early issues, mark can actually be kind of crude, he uses slurs (like the r-word) and makes some offhanded gay jokes, usually when he’s goofing around with william. it’s definitely surprising when you read it now, but it’s also important to understand that it’s part of his growth. it’s not written to make him look good, it’s showing that he’s a dumb teenage boy who hasn’t figured everything out yet. he says thoughtless, insensitive stuff because he’s young, immature, and still has a lot of learning to do.

and the comics let him grow.

later on, when william comes out to him, mark doesn’t just brush it off or make another dumb joke, he’s genuinely supportive. he accepts william without hesitation. and from that point on, you can see a clear shift, mark stops using slurs, stops making those kinds of jokes. it’s not a huge dramatic “lesson learned” moment, but the change is there. he matures. he gets it.

the show sort of skips over this whole messy, realistic part of his character arc. animated mark is a lot more careful and a little more "clean" from the start, he doesn’t really say anything offensive, and he’s framed as a lot more socially aware right out of the gate. which makes sense for a modern audience and a tv format, but it does smooth out some of the rough growth we see in comic mark.

comic mark’s early immaturity makes his later kindness and emotional intelligence feel earned. it’s not that he’s perfect, it’s that he chooses to grow, to be better, to really care about people in a way that goes beyond surface-level acceptance. that’s a huge part of what makes comic mark feel so real. he screws up, he says dumb stuff, but he listens, he learns, and he changes.

CONCLUSION AND FINAL NOTE!

at the end of the day, mark grayson isn’t about being perfect. he’s about trying. he’s stubborn as hell, emotional, sometimes reckless, and way more human than people give him credit for.

he holds onto what he believes even when everyone’s telling him to give up. he fights for the people he loves even when it costs him everything. he messes up (a lot), but he always, always tries to be better. that’s what makes him mark.

when you’re writing him, don’t be afraid to show all of it, the anger, the humor, the doubt, the stubborn hope that somehow refuses to die even when everything’s falling apart. he’s not supposed to be perfect or untouchable. he’s supposed to feel real.

sometimes he gets it wrong. sometimes he crashes and burns. but the point is, he keeps going. he cares even when it’s easier not to. and that’s why people love him.

i hope breaking all this down helps if you’re trying to write him, understand him better, or just see where he’s coming from. because when you really look at it, mark’s whole story isn’t about being the strongest guy in the room it’s about being the one who refuses to give up on people, even when it would be easier to stop caring.

thanks for reading! and honestly, if you ever feel stuck writing him, just go back to that core idea > he never stops trying. that’s who he is.

[secretlyazombi3]

hallo!! (๑'ᵕ'๑)⸝* ⋆ ⁺ ₊

i'd like to request a royal reader x knight!leon smut, if it's totally okay + within your comfort zone! i'm leaning towards a more submissive leon here, he's a man of a few words and typically doesn't chat a lot with people he isn't close with but he's reaaaallyy whimpering and whiny with reader when he gets his world rocked, much to their pleasant surprise :3 some overstimulation and praise thrown in would be nice too if you'd like hihiii

-🍮

⌞⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ Armor .ᐟ⌝

leon kennedy x afab! reader

๋࣭ ⭑⚝word count:  3.9k ๋࣭ ⭑⚝ NSFW !!!, 2nd person, leon is a bit subby, reader and leon r both desperate for each other, unprotected (as always, pls don’t do that), riding, a bit of overstimulation + praise, ‘forbidden’ in a way, leon is implied to be a bit older, squirting

๋࣭ ⭑⚝ summary: Your knight in shining armour catches you trying to sneak out past midnight. 

๋࣭ ⭑⚝ a/n: HII 🍮TYSM FOR THE REQUEST ! :3 sorry i’ve been slow on writing, i’ve had writer’s block and been busy w school (i have finals coming up soon :c) but my requests r still open and i’m working on the requests i have ! ty all sm for the support :3 <3 sorry if there r any errors !

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

You stood against the wall, mostly covered in shadow as you watched everyone on the floor of the great hall, all dancing and having a good time. Your arms were crossed as you puffed a bit until your knight approached you. 

He was a calloused man, very quiet, very protective of you. His parents ordered him to follow you around like a damn lost dog to make sure you were safe at all times, despite being an adult. Your parents always babied you and affected how Leon treated you. Like some sort of damsel in distress. He’d always try to dismiss it with some comment about how important it was for your parents to have an heir to the throne or whatever. You didn’t really care about it; it was just bullshitting excuses to keep you from living your life. 

“May I go now?” you asked him as you eyed the dancefloor. Your parents were hosting the yearly Spring Ball at the castle again; this was your first year you were actually allowed to attend the damn thing. Every past year, your parents had insisted that you were ‘too young’, and they were only ‘trying to keep you safe’. Of course, to an extent, it was reasonable, but that didn’t make it totally justified. Everyone at the ball had been personally invited, and the other knights were at the front of the castle approving each guest, so it wasn’t like there were any real threats they were worried about. You knew the real reason - they didn’t want you meeting anyone from outside the castle walls. 

Your parents never explicitly stated it, but you were sure that you were going to be packaged into an arranged marriage one day. They didn’t want anyone less than perfect to sit beside you on the throne one day, so it’d likely be someone they’d trust and someone who knew how to rule over a kingdom. 

Leon nodded his head at your question, grunting out a quiet “yes”. You moved away from the wall and towards the crowd of others before Leon gripped your wrist and pulled you back. “Not so fast.” he started. 

You squirmed a bit out of Leon’s grip, despite it being gentle, all while Leon spoke to you in his usual cold, monotone voice. “Your parents want me to keep an eye on you the whole evening.”. He didn’t wait for your reaction before he sighed, he already knew you’d be upset. 

“I’m not a child; I don’t need to be babysat.” You replied as Leon’s grip finally faltered and you headed off to the mass of people dancing together, only for Leon to follow after you. Typical. That man acted like a baby duckling following their mother duck. He was practically chained to you. Couldn’t your parents see that you didn’t need to have some helicoptering over you at all times?

You hurried away from the corner, not wanting to spend any more of the evening alone in the corner. This was your first time ever attending a dance, after all, and you were going to make the most of it.

Every girl in the palace was all dolled up in ruffle-covered dresses and fancy up-do hairstyles that accentuated their facial features. All the men were dressed up in fancy suits, detailed with gold, tailored specifically for them. It was your first time seeing everyone up close like this, so you took a moment to admire every detail. 

“You just going to stand there staring, pretty thing?” a man asked you from behind, making you turn around. It was some guy you’ve never seen, you hadn’t a clue what relationship he had with your parents that let him get invited, but you didn’t care. He was cute, and you barely ever got social interaction with anyone besides the knights and the maids here. 

He took your hand and offered you to dance, and God, how could you refuse such a pretty face? Time had gone by rather fast; the lack of windows nearby did not aid your blindness to the time. You hadn’t been able to see the sun fall past the horizon and the moon begin to take its place. You wiped your forehead clean of all the beads of sweat that had accumulated from spending so much time dancing in a hall packed with so many other people. Leon had just been standing a few feet away, just watching… Guy probably had nothing better to do, you thought. 

“Are you going to be attending that, uh, afterparty for this ball tonight? The one east of the village?” the man you’d been dancing with had asked you once you two had paused for some air and water. 

“Huh?” you replied, tilting your head a little. It was your first time hearing about anything of that sort. 

“The king- or, your dad, I mean… his friends host an after-party of sorts. Lasts from dusk till dawn. Are you coming?” You hesitated before replying. You hadn’t even heard about it, probably because your dad knew that you’d want to go if you had known about it. And your parents would never let you outside the castle walls during the night. Even if Leon came to chaperone you. 

“Ah-” you started, stumbling over your words until you felt a large hand prop onto your shoulder. Turning to look back, you saw Leon moving to stand beside you. He leaned down a bit closer to you so he could talk just softly enough for you to hear. “Your parents want you back in your quarters by midnight. It’s five past.” he said to you quietly. 

“God damnit, I’ve got a bedtime now too?” You replied as you glanced at Leon, then back at the man you’d been dancing with, dying to kiss all night. Years of being cooped up behind castle walls made you desperate. 

Leon didn’t respond, his expression as unamused as always. The man hadn’t cracked a smile at all the whole night, it was honestly depressing. He was a dedicated knight alright. He had the opportunity to dance with anyone he wanted to - admittedly, he was quite handsome. But instead, he spent the hours just standing there, watching you have the time of your life simply because your parents told him to. 

Leo had a firm grip on your arm as if he were anticipating you’d try to flee with the guy you’d just met - yeah, you were desperate, but not that desperate. 

You paused for a moment, trying to think of how to reply. You didn’t want to cut the night short, you knew there was a zero percent chance you’d ever see this guy ever again if you did. But you felt Leon beginning to tug on your arm, insisting that you two leave. 

“I’ll see you soon, okay? I’ll… I’ll find a way.” You replied before reluctantly walking away with Leon. It was somewhat less pathetic than letting him drag you away. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The past hour or so, you’d been keeping the closest eye on the status of the Spring Ball you could form inside your room. You’d waited a full hour to hear the music from the grand hall to stop, and you did, you’d heard the liveliness of the dance slowly die out like a flame being extinguished. 

You still waited a few moments until you were sure most of the castle had been put to rest. By now, most of the staff would have returned to their quarters and gone to bed, right? You were sure it was safe to make your move now. Sneak out. You knew it was super risky, but you were also desperate. Desperate to something not controlled by your parents. Desperate to see that man. You hoped that of all people to be arranged married to, it’d be him. Maybe that was because you’d had little interaction with many men before this, but you were head over heels. 

You took a lantern in your hands and exited your room, quietly tiptoeing down the corridors of your quarter. The halls weren’t too dim thanks to some moonlight peering in through the windows. 

You weren’t exactly sure where this after-party was, all you knew was that it was east of the kingdom, meaning you’d have to move toward the moon for guidance. You could probably ask around to try and locate a specific manor it’d be held in. 

You were only a few feet down the hall, just a little bit away from the round staircase tower you’d need to go down to reach the exit, barely away from your bedroom before you saw Leon approaching you from the dark. “Shit.” You muttered to yourself. Of course, you should’ve expected this. Leon had dark circles under his eyes, the guy never slept, and he was there when you told that man, you’d find a way to get to that party. 

“Come on now, back to bed.” Leon said simply in his gruff voice as he gestured to your room, his movements still somewhat stiff thanks to his armor that he was still wearing. He knew your plan; he didn’t even bother heading back to his quarters to change. He’d probably been waiting right there at the end of the hallway since he’d insisted, you’d go to bed. 

You stuttered out a reply, trying to talk your way out of it, make up some lie that you just wanted a midnight snack or something, but Leon saw right through your bullshit. He held your wrist again and brought you back to your room. 

“Your parents would be so disappointed.” Leon said, his tone sounding like he was scolding a naughty dog. 

You sat down on your bed, glancing out the door to the balcony. Climbing down would’ve been a more viable idea than trying to leave out the main exit. 

You crossed your arms and puffed out a sigh as you looked down at the floor. “I know.” you replied simply. 

“I’m not going to tell them, though, don’t worry.” Leon added as he gazed down at you. 

“That’s a shocker.” you mumbled out.

Leon tilted his head at that comment, he raised an eyebrow. That was probably the most expressive you’d ever seen him before this moment. 

“Why’s that?” he asked. 

“You’re so loyal to my parents, you do every damn thing they tell you to. You spent the whole night standing against a pillar and watching over me like a stalker just because that’s what they ordered you to. Could’ve danced with any pretty girl or guy in there you wanted to.” You replied as you looked up at him, standing up to look him in the eye. 

His expression softened slightly, lips moving upwards although it wasn’t entirely a smile. Not yet at least. 

“You think I did that just because your parents asked?” he asked you, sounding somewhat amused. It wasn’t usual for Leon to be this expressive, even though now he was still barely showing any emotion. 

“Yeah, why else would you do that?” You asked, still looking up at Leon. You felt his hands gently brush against the side of your neck. He wasn’t very touchy - at least, not like this. You were used to him grabbing your wrist whenever he wanted to keep you in sight, but this? “I… I wanted to dance with you.” he admitted, his words coming out with a sigh, his voice still as soft and gentle as ever. 

You were puzzled by that response. Surely, he was joking. Surely, he didn’t actually mean it, he didn’t actually have feelings for you. 

All your thoughts became a messy blur as you felt his lips crash against yours and pull back just as fast. His cheeks were slightly pink, he looked more embarrassed than anything. 

“Sorry,” he apologized. He felt like he’d done something dirty. He was your knight, hired to protect you, not to fall for you and kiss you without at least asking first. What happened to his chivalry? Leon revoked his hand from your neck, looking down as if he were ashamed. “No, it’s fine.” You assured him, wrapping your fingers around his hand and gently guiding his hand onto your cheek. “Don’t apologize, I… I liked it.” 

All these years you’d longed for a man had turned you desperate. Tonight, you’d been willing to sneak out alone in order to go see one. All this time, you’d had a man head over heels for you right in your reach. Perfectly attainable. You just didn’t realize it. 

How could you? Leon was quiet and reserved. Tonight was the first time you’d seen his face change from an always annoyed one to literally any other emotion. How could you have known? 

Your head was flooded with thoughts, the rational part of your brain was drowning in all the thoughts yelling at you to kiss him again. You were so, so desperate. You pulled Leon in for another kiss and felt him wrap his large arms around your waist, kissing you sloppily. Clearly, he was as desperate for you as you were for him. You pulled him onto your bed, underneath the frame with the pretty canopy, resting against the cushioned headboard.

You sat on his lap; he pulled away from the kisses and gasped. The armor he was wearing was probably the worst thing he could have a boner in. He shifted around uncomfortably and bit his bottom lip to keep himself from moaning. 

“Fuck.” he grunted, out of breath. 

“What is it, what’s wrong?” you asked quietly, as if you were scared your parents would hear. You knew logically they wouldn’t - their quarters were across the whole damn castle. You could moan like a slut all you wanted all night long and they’d still be resting peacefully, not a clue in the world you’d been up fucking your knight. 

“I’m-I’m hard...” Leon admitted, audibly embarrassed by his situation. You pulled back a little from his lap, allowing him to pull off his bottoms desperately, tossing them aside. 

Despite your room still being dim, the only light source coming from the moonlight sneaking its way in through your sheer curtains, you managed to see the large bulge in Leon’s boxers, a few tiny wet spots from some pre-cum. 

Leon had been waiting to fuck you for what felt like forever. He’d been head over heels longer than he’d like to admit, and he’d spent more nights in his private bathroom pumping his cock with his fists while staring at pictures of you than he’d like to admit. 

You felt yourself begin to drip in your panties at the sight. You were horny, you were so fucking horny. You hadn’t felt the touch of a man ever. At least, not like this. And you were just desperate to experience this intimacy. You longed to feel a man’s cock inside you, as embarrassing as it was to admit. Leon removed the chest plate armor on him, tearing everything off of him like a wild animal. Like he couldn’t contain how bad he wanted to fuck you. You did the same, you stripped down on your bed until you were just in panties. 

You took a moment to admire Leon’s body all while he admired yours. He’d seen the outline of your body when you’d worn tight clothes in the past, but you were a thousand times sexier than he could’ve imagined. He felt his dick throb as his eyes fixated on your nipples, your pretty tits… 

You’d never seen Leon in anything other than that stiff armor, so you had spent the years completely unaware that he’d been jacked this whole time. His arms were toned and muscular, not to mention his abs… where did he even get the time to work out when he spent so much of his time watching you. 

“So fucking hot...” you whispered to Leon as you felt on his abs, feeling his happy trail brush against your hand. Leon let out a pathetic whine at the touch. 

He stared up at you. He’d been working here to protect you. He was working with your parents; he agreed with them that he’d protect you. But he’d gotten too close to you, and now… He couldn’t help his feelings. Even though he knew he should do anything but fuck you, even though you seemed so willing for his dick, he couldn’t help himself. You were the forbidden fruit he just couldn’t resist. 

Leon gently grabbed your hips, his grip on you gentler than ever. You gently grinded against him, rubbing your clothed pussy against his dick that was still restrained by his boxers. 

“Oh fuck, don’t we need protection? We should use some, right? I-” Leon stuttered, his face visibly becoming more and more pink with every word that he let slip from his lips. “Fuck it, it’s fine, I just want you… I-I need this.” you stuttered out desperately. It was almost cute how desperate you two were for each other, in a pathetic way. 

You peeled down the fabric of Leon’s boxers slowly, a smirk crawling on your lips as you watched his hard cock spring out excitedly, the red leaking tip desperately begging for your pussy. 

You gently slid down your panties, down past your ankles before tossing them aside, not caring about where they’d land. 

Leon’s face was bright pink at this point, he was resting back against the headboard as you gently stroked his cock, sizing him up mentally, imagining how good it’d feel when you finally felt this long dick inside you. Leon whimpered as he felt your soft fingers wrapped around his shaft, moving up and down at an agonizingly slow pace. 

“Please-” he gasped out, his tone abnormally whiny. He looked at you with puppy eyes, silently begging you to stop teasing and just bounce on his cock already.

You leaned closer to him and gently kissed him before positioning yourself on top of him, his tip right at your entrance. You whined as you slowly lowered yourself down, feeling his dick slowly slide between your legs. He felt incredible.

Leon was already hot and sweaty just feeling you on top of him, seeing your face contort with pleasure as you took his dick inside you. 

“So… so fucking tight…” he grunted out between desperate pants and gasps for air. Leon shut his eyes as he leaned back, staring up at your ceiling as he tried adjusting to the sensation of your tight walls practically milking his cock. 

You were whining loudly, not used to the sensation just yet, but after a second you managed to quiet down. 

“Feels so fucking good…” You moaned quietly as you placed one hand on Leon’s cheek. You leaned back slightly and sighed, taking in a few deep breaths before beginning to push yourself up and down, bouncing on Leon’s dick. 

Leon’s whimpers grew louder with each bounce; his eyes clenching shut for a few moments as you rode his dick. He was never one to be vocal in any situation, but now? He couldn’t stop the moans and whimpers that were escaping his lips. He was moaning like a whore. 

God, this felt wrong. He was supposed to protect you, keep you safe for your parents, now encourage you to ride him raw. But God, it felt so right, and your parents didn’t need to know about your fun time with your little knight. 

“Ah... ah… Leon...” you breathed as you kept bouncing on his cock at a steady, somewhat swift pace, your pussy desperately clutching onto his dick, not wanting this moment to even end. 

Your hand moved down Leon’s cheek as you admired his beauty. His eyes were welling up with tears, ashamedly. Leon’s dick was so sensitive, he hadn’t fucked a real pussy in years, this just felt so damn good to him. 

Leon moaned your name desperately as you leaned forward to kiss him, wanting to soothe his tears. “You’re doing so good… you feel so fucking good in me, Leon...” You moaned out, not bothering to quiet yourself. Leon’s eyes were glued to your chest, enjoying the way your tits bounced with each movement.

You were progressively getting louder and louder as you kept riding. Leon gripped your hips a bit tighter. “Your pussy feels amazing, baby…” Leon grunted out quietly, some tears beginning to slip as he felt his balls tighten up slightly in anticipation of an orgasm. 

Poor boy had been trying to hold it in this whole time. He’d been leaking precum since you pushed him onto the bed. If he wasn’t trying to wait for you to cum with him, he would’ve come while you were stroking him.

“You’re doing this so well, ah, fuck...” he added, his eyes shutting involuntarily as you moved your hand up and down his abs, your touch was intoxicating. “You ride so damn good…” he whispered to you, his hand rubbing your side. You began bouncing a bit faster, feeling his tip occasionally brush against your spongy spot. You moved your fingers down, gently rubbing circles into your clit.

“Ah! Fuck!” you squeaked as you felt his tip finally slam against your spot, making your whole-body twitch with pleasure. Leon felt you clench around his cock, causing him to whine out as his hips involuntarily bucked up into you, his tip pressing deeper into your spot. 

Leon bit his lip as he felt more tears leak, his vision blurry as he looked up at you. You wiped his tears as you kept bouncing on his dick. “So fucking good, you’re going to make me cum, you feel so good…” you breathed.

“Fuck… so tight, so wet, so perfect I- I’m gonna cum..!” Leon gasped out, his hips thrusting up involuntarily and beginning to stutter as he watched you squirm. You leaned your head back, squealing desperately as you felt yourself peak, squirting warm juices all over his abdomen. Your head was fuzzy, and you were dizzy in the aftermath of your orgasm. God, you didn’t even know you could squirt. Who knew Leon’s dick was all it took? 

Leon tightened his grip on your hips, forcing you down and still as he came, releasing his hot seed deep inside you. He sat there for a few moments before finally relaxing back down onto the bed as you pulled off of him, his cum dripping from between your legs. 

“Oh, fuck, baby… I should’ve pulled out, ‘m so sorry…” Leon said quietly as he gently rubbed your back. 

“It’s fine…” you assured him, your lips gently pressing against his neck as you rested against him. You were both sweaty, laying together in your bed as you pulled over the fluffy comforters to cover up your guys’ nude bodies. 

God, your parents would be pissed if they found out. If they knew the man they hired to protect their precious kid, heir to the throne, had fucked them raw in their bed in the castle they all lived in. And they’d be upset at you, too, for developing a relationship with someone that wasn’t arranged. The other staff would talk. The knights would be shocked that one of them had been so bold to do such a thing. The maids wouldn’t be happy having to clean up your bed. 

But right now, that didn’t matter. All that mattered to you was lying down next to a man who loved you; something you’d been wanting for forever. 

[iridescentxstars]

-> 𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐰 𝐚-𝐳 | 𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧 .ೃ࿐

➳ published: 28.04.25 ➳ nsfw headcanon || genre: nsfw || rating: m ➳ idol: christopher bang ➳ summary: what would chris be like in the bedroom with you? ➳ author's note: this is my assumptions and holds no truth outside of my head. please do not take this seriously and do not engage if you are under 18. this is also written from a female perspective.

aftercare

it would depend on how intense the sex is. if it's intense, chris would run you a bath and carry you into the bathroom; he'd take his time and would even get into the tub as he helps ease your exhaustion. less intense sessions are followed by water, cuddles and cleaning you up. he's always providing praise and telling you how good you were, no matter what.

body part

we all know chris is a little insecure in his body despite the constant assurances but he's mostly proud of his arms. it's the part he's always working on because he wants to be able to lift you up at any time he pleases. on you, he loves everything and makes it known he doesn't have a preference.

cum

chris is a creampie type of guy. he uses protection most of the time because he's got good sex education and knows how to be safe but whenever he's given the chance — he's taking it.

dirty secret

connected isn't about wifi. drive isn't about driving. red lights wasn't written by hyunjin and railway was written with you on his mind. chris has written an album for you, each one more sensual than the last. why do you think he's protecting that laptop so badly? he doesn't want anyone to hear the moans that are saved on there.

experience

chris is experienced. he knows what he's doing and knows what he likes. he's settled as he's gotten older and been with you, though if you are ever unsure, he's there to guide and control the situation with ease.

favourite position

do i need to say it? he's hinted it multiple times — he loves it when you are on top riding him. mostly when he's sitting in his studio, hands free to touch as he pleases or helping you bounce when you get tired. chris is a ride that you cannot handle but damn, he loves it when you try.

goofy (are they serious in the moment or more light hearted)

this is always depending on his mood or what is happening. he's either goofy and playful, enjoying teasing you and working you up or he's radiating a dominant aura that has your legs weak. on a bad day or when he's stressed, christopher kicks in and he's fucking his anger out even if he's been to the gym.

hair (grooming)

chris keeps up with grooming. he's a laser guy and routinely gets laser hair removal on his legs, armpits and facial hair but when it comes to pubic hair? he manscapes. always well groomed, never messy and doesn't give a fuck what the guys say about it.

intimacy (are they romantic in the moment, how intimate can they be…)

unless it is a quickie or happens suddenly, chris is extremely intimate. he thrives on it. he wants hand-holding in missionary, he wants sweet words whispered as he worships you and while he's okay with you being shy about eye contact — his eyes are always on you. if he can take that chance to be intimate with it, to heighten the experience and make every time special — he'll take it.

jack-off

he doesn't masturbate often and can hold out until you're together. it's not that he doesn't but it's rare because he works a lot when you aren't around.

kinks

body worship, marking, praise, orgasm control, edging, exhibitionism and oral. chris is dominant, even if he has a soft side and can come across as a switch or submissive, he knows when to take control and doesn't hesitate. while he's not deeply into the daddy kink, he is a caregiver and thrives off your pleasure and the trust you have in him to take care of you.

location (favourite places)

chris isn't really a huge fan of anywhere public or overly public but he does love fucking you in the studio. he's more of a bedroom or your apartment/the dorm type of guy otherwise. he loves the comfort of his home.

motivation (what gets them going)

your arousal is usually the top thing that gets him going but he also does love it when you get all giggly and shy from his teasing. your hands on him, touching softly, running up and down his body is the easiest way to get him going because that means he can do that to you — and he loves doing it to you.

no (what won't they try, turn offs)

public settings where the risk is high is a top one for him but also threesomes, he refuses to share you with anyone and will make that clear. he will be open to try something at least once if asked nicely but those two are where he draws the line.

oral

chris is great with his tongue, he plays with it more than he should and makes it known that he knows what he's doing with it. he could live with your legs over his shoulders and his head buried between your legs but oddly, he's not overly as worried about oral. he'll allow you to do it if you enjoy it and will enjoy it when it's happening but he won't ask for it.

pace (are they fast and rough, slow and sensual...)

unless it's been a while or he's pissed off/in a mood, chris usually takes it slow. he wants to enjoy the moment, he wants to revel in every sound, every expression and how you feel wrapped around him. he knows how to stay on beat and will usually build it up depending on the mood but on a regular? chris is fucking you slow and sensual.

quickies

not the biggest fan of quickies because they happen more than he would like for them too. it's hard for him to have multiple sessions so usually, he'll fuck you when and where he can (studio, car, bathroom, late night, early morning...).

risk (are they willing to experiment, do they take risks)

chris is always willing to experiment especially if it's something you want to try. if he doesn't like it, he will say but usually he's open and tries most things asked. however, he is not a risk taker. if he cannot control the situation or hasn't had enough experience with something (e.g: shibari) then he will not allow it until he can figure out how to do it properly.

stamina

chris has more energy than he knows what to do with a lot of the time. if he's not on the go then something is wrong and even then — he's trying. he can finish a concert, come home and fuck you into the mattress afterwards before getting ready for bed. unless he's had an overly full day with filming or being with the kids — chris has high stamina.

toys

he's got a few vibrators and different toys that you've been interested in and doesn't mind using them when the time is right. his favourite toy is the long distance vibrator that he can control on his phone and uses it a lot when he's on tour.

unfair (how much they like to tease)

oh, teasing and chris go hand in hand. he loves teasing you in every way that he can think of. whether its through text, sending risque pictures, saying innuendos or purposefully teasing you to get a reaction — he can't help himself.

volume

he's a moaner, he's audible and loves it when you are loud too. he'll swear, groan about how good you feel and moan in ways that should be illegal. he's extremely vocal.

wild card (a random headcanon)

chris can't remember what you had said when you walked into the studio, wearing his hoodie and that smile that can only mean mischief. the words that left your lips when you looked the door didn't mean shit to him as he watched the way you undressed and showed off the new lingerie you had bought for him. fuck, he loves it when you're confident like this — it's sexy to him. pulling you closer, hands resting on your thighs as you straddle his lap, he looks up at you with adoration in his eyes. you look beautiful in that set but he knows you'll look even better with it off and his marks covering your chest instead.

x-ray (what's going on inside those pants)

big things come inside small packages is his motto. despite his height, chris has a slightly above average cock with a decent girth. he hits all the right places.

yearning

despite his sex drive, chris isn't overly needy. he can last a week or longer if he has to because he's always on the go. unless you are too far away for him to get to and tease him, chris is able to control his libido. don't get me wrong, when he can have you — he will — but chris' libido grows more with yours. if you aren't in the mood, he's vibing.

zzz

chris barely sleeps as it is but he finds himself able to sleep better after sex. even when he provides aftercare, he can wrap you up in his arms and sleep with you like that. normally, he struggles to get to sleep and when he's out — he's out. don't wake him, let him sleep. he sleeps better with you and prefers sleeping like that.

[stephforl1fe]

You know what- I am TIRED of batfam fantasy aus with Damian as a dragon or Bruce as a vampire!

Like yes I understand logistically it’s most fitting but come on let’s get creative! I am tired of searching and searching for a fic that isn’t: Damian-dragon, Jason-wearwolf, dick-mermaid, ect.

I think it’d be fun to play around with species soooo this is MY submission on what I think a cool dynamic for a fantasy au would be

Bruce: either human or a shapeshifter creature- i think a fun dynamic for him could be that he doesn’t have a clue that his kids have magic and have hijinks or have it be like when your kid comes out as gay so you do as much research as possible, like he’d be overly supportive

Dick: I think he’d be SICK as an angel or demon- extra points if you have him being originally human but he died after the circus act with his parents and came back as an angle or demon somehow

Jason: as much as I actually like werewolf Jason I think this man could be really good as gargoyle- I just think of all the fics where his favorite spot is next to the gargoyles and that it’d be cool if he had some kind of manic connection with them maybe from the pit??? If not a gargoyle I don’t think we get zombie Jason enough.

Steph: an human witch- humans aren’t typically capable of old manic witchcraft but Stephanie is doing her damn best! She’s constantly making up her own types of spells to cause chaos or blowing up her room when an ancient ritual goes awry.

Tim: a poltergeist- usually ghosts aren’t seen just like how Tim for the longest time felt forgotten or not seen, he eventually found out how to move and touch things and over time the residents at Wayne manor noticed the little shadows occupying their home that would take photos of them.

Cass: dragon- I KNOW I said I wasn’t a fan of the dragon thing but I think it could be fun for Cass. Most of the time dragons are big and powerful and loud but Cass is known for being small and sneaky and quiet- no less powerful of course. She always lends a scale or two to Steph for any spell she needs and takes her claim on the bats VERY seriously.

Duke: light elemental- I feel cliché saying this but I don’t read enough Duke to put him as anything else. I think he’d control light with his hands as though he was reflecting it off a mirror, occasionally you can find him just faceplanting on the ground outside because he gains power from the sun.

Damian: faerie or harpy- I so often see him as some big scary creature but I think it’d be such an interesting story to see him portrayed as a more small and friendly known species like a fae only for him to be tough as a nail. As a most fae he has trouble with hoarding tendencies and GREATLY enjoys playing tricks and deals on people- Tim once made the mistake of shaking hands with him in a bet and shudders anytime the memory is brought up. Being a far could fit his character well. He’s small but strong in his own way and god forbid you cross a fae especially a tricky one

[jollyhunter]

"Love me the way you need me" - Part 3.

⋆ ˚｡⋆ COUPLE BadWolf!Dean x SweetVixen!Reader 🍓🥃 -> MASTERLIST [Special Forces AU, SquadLeader!Dean]

⋆ ˚｡⋆ WARNINGS SMUT 18+ MDNI, established relationship, age gap, dom!Dean, kinda sub!reader, needy!Dean and needy!reader, kinda claiming kink?, Dean being desperate for reassurance, fingering, overstimulation, p in v (wrap it before u tap it!), rough sex (emotional-relief sex), orgasm denial, hair pulling (light), choking (light - neck, not throat), manhandling, anal fingering, consent with safe word, praising, pet names, fluff, sweet aftercare, angst, mention of torture (flashback). POV's all over the place. No use of Y/N. Uff, rarely ever had this many tags lmao. lmk if I forgot something!

⋆ ˚｡⋆ SUMMARY Dean returned home pretty rattled from the last hunt. But it's nothing some good morning sex couldn’t fix, right?

⋆ ˚｡⋆ WORDS 8k

⋆ ˚｡⋆ J / NOTE The Bad Wolf's unleashed and I got a bit carried away, so say thank you Jolly for almost 6k of pure sinful smut. Or give me a concerened side-eye along a "Jolly what the fuk". Make your pick 😌

In any case, make sure you read the warning tags before you continue! And buckle up sweeties, this gonna be an intense ride <3

Previous: Part 1. <- Part 2. <-

“I might just fuck you like I own you.”

Those simple words strung together do so much more to you than they should.

How the deep timbre of his voice carries his intentions. Dangerous, yet smooth. Like a promise, a threat and a declaration all at the same. It wraps around your mind and squeezes it in all the right ways, short-circuiting your brain and tearing down all the barriers that would keep a woman in church.

Welp. Feminism just went right out the window.

But it’s alright.

After all, Dean never owned something in his life, not even his own body.

Your body on the other hand? How could you deny him that.

“Fuck-” A jolt of arousal courses through your form, hot and cold at the same time as it rushes down your back in the form of a shiver until it hits your tingling core.

The corner of his lips pull into a satisfied grin at your reaction. Large hands slide over your curves and settle on your hips. His eyes never leaving you.

“Want me to take out my frustration on you?” he chuckles darkly and earns himself another moan of yours as your forehead drops to his shoulder and your hands slide down his neck until they find purchase at his chest. Fingers dug into the fabric of his shirt.

He squeezes the flesh at your hips.

“You like the sound of that, huh?” he teases you, then tips your head to the side with his nose before he nips at your earlobe.

Your cheeks burn up, fingers tightening.

There’s a moment of silence, filled only by Dean holding your hips in place as he rolls his own up against you and lets you feel his hard cock twitch between your thighs. His thick head rubbing along your covered folds. Covered but drenched nonetheless.

That much for 'only boys have trouble to cover up their horniness'.

Dean feels it even through two layers of fabrics.

The taste of your sweet arousal wafting up into his flaring nostrils, wrapping around his tongue. He licks his lips. Hungry. Eyes darkened with pupils fully blown as they watch you from below his eyelashes.

“I think you do…”

He remarks. Patient. Lips curled up into a wolfish grin.

A shiver runs through your body as you realize how he's got you trapped.

Not just by his bruising grip on your hips. But mentally.

Right now every cell in your body is drawn to him, like he's the only one able to tame the fire that's threatening to burn you alive. The only man able to make your feral little hormone-bitch want to submit to him. Every thought, every damn urge is tainted by that raw, primal desire to be claimed by him. Marked. Used and forced into submission in the most pleasurable way.

Fuck - I want that man to ruin me.

“Y-yeah…” You admit sheepishly and dare to lift your head enough just to watch Dean’s grin widen.

“Oh yeah?"

Your exhale’s stuttering when it blows into his smug expression. His thumbs draw a tender circle across your curves, barely noticeable under the tremors that run through your body.

"Lift your arms, sweetheart,"- his hands begin to push up your pyjama's top -"Need to see you… make sure my babygirl's ready for when I take her apart.” You swallow back a whimper.

Lifting your arms with all your energy suddenly gone elsewhere, he pulls off your top with quick hands and discards it somewhere behind the couch.

“Damn, look at you,” he breaths. His eyes rake up and down your exposed top. Almost in awe. Slow, plump lips parted while he’s taking his time to make sure every dip and bump and the smallest blemishes on your skin are still the same like when he saw you last.

His warm, large hands move to the swell of your breasts, pushing them up before he dips his head down to capture your nipple between his teeth. Closing his lips to suck until he’s drawing a gasping whine from you.

He lets go again, lips lingering at the curve of your cupped tits.

“Just perfect,” he praises.

“De…” you plead his name with a shaky breath, back arched to feel every rough part of his calloused fingers moulded around your soft breasts, “Please, I wanna feel you…”

One of your hands finds its way to his hidden happy trail, reaching for his bulging boxer’s hem – but his hand comes down to grab your wrist.

“Patience, sweetheart,” he reprimands you with a crooked smile as he lets go of you and instead grips for your hips again, lifting you off of his lap.

“Turn around,” he demands and despite the whine in protest, you do as told and swing your legs over his in order to lower yourself back down on his lap, facing away from him.

“Mmh-hm, that’s it. Atta girl.”

His hands move back to your hips to pull you flush against his straining crotch, letting you feel how his covered length comes close to bury itself in the crease of ass-cheeks.

Rough finger pads rake up the inside of your thighs, bunching up the pants that are still separating him from your aching core. Inching up towards where you need him most - but only ever brushing past it. Teasing. Maybe even testing you.

It has you squirming, accompanied by soft pleading sounds tumbling off your lips as the need for his touch clouds your mind and starts to become unbearable. To the point where you feel the urge to just spin around, take over the lead and –

“Hey,” Dean snaps you out of your dazed efforts to get some relief and he tuts, "Ah-ah, don’t even think about it. Not this time, sweetheart."

Then his voice drops. Chin settled down on your shoulder, beard scratching the skin like a warning as he continues, breath hot next to your face.

“You hold still and just take whatever I give you.”

You groan with a shudder. His voice taking that familiar, damn commanding undertone that always has your heart flutter and drive your hormones into a frenzy.

The air gets caught in your throat, mumbling a quiet “y-yeah,” while your body instinctively complies and you try your damndest to not wiggle anymore from need.

His teeth graze the junction of your neck as he hums, pleased.

“Now, lemme get that pussy ready... stretch ‘er nice and wide for me.”

One of his arms suddenly slings around your chest, gripping onto the crook of your neck on the opposite side, before he pulls you back. A gasp escapes you when he suddenly pins you to his chest, the back of your head now resting on his hard shoulder. He holds you in a tight lock with his arms enveloping you from behind while his free hand trails over your hipbone, where it dips into your pyjama pants.

A hitch in your breath marks the moment when you feel his fingertips ghost past your clit and bury their way down towards your heat. Two thick fingers part your folds, the slick coating them as they push past your entrance and up into your soft walls without a warning.

A guttural moan erupts from your chest, hips jerking at the feeling of his long thick index and middle finger sinking deep inside you. The roll of his hand smooth and controlled.

Dean’s muscles flex in response. His left arm’s grip around your chest’s tightening enough for you to writhe in his embrace without giving in an inch.

“So wet ‘n tight for me…” he mutters hoarsely.

Slowly he starts to pump his fingers in and out of you. Smooth, as your arousal allows him to slip them along your soft walls.

“Taking‘em just like that…”- He curls his fingers, coaxing a whine out of you - “Somebody’s hungry down there, huh?”

Slouching sounds fill the living room as he increases his speed. Your breath growing ragged.

Soft moans start to roll off your tongue. Body’s twitching and hips bucking under his ministrations. Fingers bury into his exposed thighs, nails biting his skin and drawing a sharp hiss of his as they leave red marks in their wake.

“Or maybe you just need more,” he says in a smug tone.

There’s no escaping him when he suddenly jams a third finger into your tight cunt, pronouncing the action with an extra rough thumb-flick over your swollen clit. Your head falls further back onto his shoulder, eyes fluttering close, lips parted to make way for desperate and breathless whines as a shudder whacks your body. The feeling of his fingers filling you up, it’s blissfully and yet on the brink of too much.

“F-fuck– Dean– p-please–”

Your walls clench in protest around the additional digit. Trembling thighs clamp together in reflex, trying to push his hand away.

But Dean doesn’t relent.

“Shhh… it's okay... you can take it... just hold on a lil’longer for me, baby, we're getting there…” - he coos softly, while his strong arm digs down between your thighs and pries them open again – "that’s it, keep ‘em nice and open for me…"

And instead of giving you a moment to adjust to the overwhelming stretching of your tight channel, he starts to push his fingers all the way inside, making sure to rake his fingertips over your spongy spot as he drags them back down. Then pushes them back inside, scissoring them once he’s knuckles deep again.

“Oh God-” you almost scream, the sound a pathetic breathless one. Out of your view, his lips pull into a satisfied grin.

Dean revels in the way you respond to him. How he can drive you to the edge and make you shatter, while you’re trapped in his arms, so he can catch you and piece you back together right after you’ve fallen apart.

“Mmm- That’s it baby,” he praises, hot breath blowing next to your ear where his chin’s resting, and from where his half-lidded eyes are trained on you.

While he pumps his fingers, he drags the heel of his hand across your bundle of nerves, enough for you to shudder and jerk your hips involuntarily, chasing the friction and trying to escape it the same time.

“D-De-” you start to plead but choke on it as another sound gets torn form the back of your throat.

You jolt and whine at the overwhelming stimulation on both your most sensitive spots. Dean quickly goes to sooth you when he slides his other hand down and over your collarbone where he captures one of your tits in his hands, massaging it with your nipple pinched between his thumb and forefinger.

“I know it’s a lot but you can take it, you’re doing so well…”

He nibbles at your jawline, the sensation sharp and burning from the prickly stubbles that rub across your soft skin.

“Ya’re such a good girl for me. So proud of ya.”

A shiver of pleasure courses through your body. The knot in your stomach tightening more with every stroke of his fingertips down your walls.

“I- I’m close-” you whimper, your breath coming in short quick bursts now. Body shaking like currents of electricity run through it.

He twists his wrist to make you whine at the sudden new angle as he increases the pace, his three fingers pumping inside you while now his thumb flicks over your clit.

Every muscle tenses under his onslaught, squirming in his strong arms - all in vain. His strength easily outmatches you, keeping you at his mercy like a bunny trapped in the jaws of a wolf.

“You’re doing so well… and making so pretty noises... letting me stretch you so deep for me...”

The hand squeezing your tits trails up to your throat, his fingers wrapping around the underside of your jaw, his thumb gliding across your jawline to rest on your cheek. His grip’s gentle, but controlled, enough to guide your head further back for him and forcing your whimpers into a strangled moan at the arch of your neck.

“Cum for me,” he orders gruffly, his nose and lips pressed against your cheekbone, “I won’t stop ‘till you’ve fallen apart. C’mon, let go for me, little vixen.”

The sound of his voice along his merciless ministrations has you fall over the edge with a shaky groan. Your body goes stiff right before the shockwaves crash down on you, driven to a maximum by Dean’s relentless thrusts despite your walls clamping down on his fingers, helping you ride out your high.

Once your body stops twitching, it melts into his, your back supported by his chest while you slide back down his lap.

He presses a kiss to your temple, praising you once again. “You did so well for me.” Then guides his drenched fingers past your head and to his lips where he licks and sucks them clean. Tasting you with a soft groan as he swallows. “So fuckin’ good. Missed your taste on my lips, baby – just nothin’ like it.”

You hum. Your eyes fluttered close. Slowly catching your breath as your heart slows down to a steady beat again - until Dean suddenly scoops you up bridal style, your half-naked body limp in his tight hold.

“Can’t wait to be inside you, sweetheart.” He mutters, his voice a notch lower and rougher than before.

An exhausted smile spreads across your sleepy face – but it quickly breaks as a surprised gasp slips your lips. Dean had moved to kneel on the couch and taken you with him where he tossed you onto your stomach in one swift move.

“On your hands and knees.” he orders.

A shiver runs down your back and right to your still overstimulated and burning core.

Without waiting for your response, his fingers hook under the hem of your pyjama pants and he yanks them down your spread out legs in one motion. Pulled over your ankles and sent flying, the pants land somewhere in the fleck of warm morning light framing the fuzzy rug of the living room.

Shakily you lift yourself to your hands and knees, head tilted back just in time to watch Dean pull his boxer down and over his morning wood.

His cock springs free, thick and hard in all its glory. Precum leaks from his pink tip while he strokes himself a few times, his darkened eyes locking onto yours as he catches you biting your lower lip with a look of lust.

“Missed my bad boy?”

“Yeah,” you breath weakly, eyes fixed on how he touches himself and begins to line up behind your rear. He rubs his head up and down your dripping folds, coating himself with your slick.

“Damn, look at you… you’re soaking me… such a needy little thing.” A shudder shakes your weak limbs and you sway for a moment, but Dean keeps a tight hold on you, steadying you.

“All for you,” you hum.

“Just for me, huh? Lucky bastard I am… Gonna make you feel so good…” Dean mutters while his hands squeeze your soft globes. You groan, press your ass further into his touch. He props up an arm on the headrest and leans down until he’s looming over you and his head is next to yours.

“Now about that offer of yours…” he growls next to your ear, each word rumbling in a deep tone that has your heart stutter with a moan, “You gonna be my sweet little girl and just take it... Let me use you while I fuck you deep ‘n hard just the way I need it, got it?” You nod in response, voice somewhere lost between dizziness and arousal.

“That’s my good girl.” he praises you and plants a wet kiss behind your ear.

His lips linger there for a moment longer, his voice dropped to a soft murmur like he’s just sharing a secret with you. “You let me know when it’s too much.”

“Yeah,” You assure him, hips wiggling under him as you continue in a sultry purr, “Want you, De…” He groans at the sound of your voice.

“Don’t worry, I’ll give it to you.”

He moves his knee between your thighs to push them further apart. When you feel the tip of his thick length press against your entrance, your hips involuntarily jerk away. Still feeling overstimulated and sensitive.

His hand comes to rest on your lower back. Palm heavy, fingers splayed out to get control over your hips movements as he guides your hips back in place.

“Shhh-shhh,” he coos, pressure increasing just enough to make you hold still, “I got you. Just relax…“

With one swift move of his hips, he pushes his cock down your walls, burying himself without giving you much time to adjust. The tight fit pulls a shaky groan from the back of your throat, fingers curling into the plush of the couches cushions. He feels hard. Pulsing and twitching with need. And yes, he's bigger than average, and even though you are used to his size by now, the borderline painful stretching around his length is still overwhelming every time.

Dean stills for a moment, easing in the last inches of his thick girth. Once he bottoms out, he allows himself to let out a guttural groan of his own.

“God- you’re so tight. Feelin’ so good around me…”

He begins to draw his cock back along your walls before he pushes back inside. The tension has your thighs twitch and tuck your chin to your collarbone as you instinctively arch your back for him.

“Mmh-hmm, that’s it…” The grip on your hip tightens while one of his hands starts to trail the path of your spine up towards your head.

Then his hand stills. Fingers suddenly feather-light as they hover over your neck. Out of your sight, his eyes close briefly.

He has to remind himself that his hands are capable of more than brutal violence. That his fingers can do more than hold a blade or pull a damn trigger, more than torture and cause pain… but that they can elicit pleasure. Can make you feel good. Like no one else can.

A shaky exhale leaves his nose, almost imperceptible as he tries to calm his inner voices.

But enough for you to pick up on his hesitation.

“Go on,” you reassure him in a low whisper and you could swear you heard him curse inwardly for letting you notice.

He doesn’t say a word, his actions speaking for themselves.

His fingers wrap around the nape of your neck. Slow and steady. While his eyes are wild like a wolf’s and his voice's rumbling like a hungry growl, his rough hands’ touch is always gentle with you. Deliberate. Powerful. Perhaps enough to leave its marks for the coming day. But never more than what he knew you liked or he could answer for.

His grip’s firm enough to push your face into the couch. Nowhere close to obstruct your airflow, just enough to let you feel his strength and the control he has over your body.

The other hand slides up your spine until his fingers splay out between your shoulder blades. He leans forward, the pressure of his weight guiding you downward and pressing your chest flush into the leather.

The way he strips you of any control, allowing you to completely let go without thinking – it has you mewl, the leather muffling the sinful sound.

“You like it when I hold you down, babygirl?” His hot breath fans against the nape of your neck. His heavy hands force the air out of your lungs, strangling your answer into a shuddering whimper.

The cold metal of his dogtags press into your back. Clinging around his neck with the chain sticking to your damp skin.

A sudden stronger thrust has the necklace rattle, the tags smack back into his chest and the air knocked out of you. Your legs buckle for a moment and your walls contract, your soft heat moulded around his girth like the perfect puzzle piece. He groans, fingers briefly digging into the skin of your neck.

“That’s it – ” he rasps out, “Feeling so damn good all tight n’ clenched around my cock, like you’re just made for me, aren’t you?”

Another thrust that has your legs buckle.

“Letting me use you like my own little toy.” Dean starts to mutter between ragged breaths, voice strained and rough.

You shudder and whimper from his words as you feel yourself trapped under him, keeping you pinned down. His muscles flexing to keep you at his mercy. And shoulder blades jump to adjust his weight above you.

Fingertips rough from a lifetime of hunting find purchase in your perfect skin while the heels of his palms press into your hipbones.

You hiss.

Your soft flesh’s caught between them as he rakes his fingers back to collect every bit of the plump flesh he can find. Dean’s grip twitches into a bruising sensation, the sharp sting mixing with your pleasure.

Then he pulls you back to meet his next thrust. Harder.

A sharp gasp ripples through your breath, close to a whine.

„C’mon now, let’s see how much you can take.”

The words are coated in mockery, licking at the back of your neck.

It makes you shudder.

From arousal as much as that sweet trepidation of what he’s going to do, as you can practically feel the smug smile mere inches behind you. The silent promise hanging in the air; he won’t stop until he has wrecked you. Turned you into a quivering, whimpering mess underneath him. Claimed every inch of you.

Dean leans back again, his other hand keeping a bruising grip on your hip.

The pressure on your neck suddenly eases as his fingers begin to thread through your locks, taking a fistful. He tugs your head up by the hair, making you arch your back and your hips cant, deepening the tight angle for him.

“Imma make sure you feel every inch of me. Make you cum so damn hard you’ll forget your own name.”

You whine, lips parted as he begins to knock sounds out of you which would rival a porno’s. He sets a brutal pace, each snap of his hips meeting yours with desperate and primal need.

The pleasure builds quickly, driving you closer to the edge with every time he slams back inside.

Soon your arms and legs begin to shake and you find yourself squirming under his bruising grip. Clawing at the leather, breath ragged and laced with desperate mewls as you feel your next orgasm build up in record time.

Writhing, your limbs begin fighting his grip as the knot coils unbearingly.

“Nuh-uh, you ain’t going nowhere, sweetheart,” he warns gruffly.

The hand tangled up in your hair slides to the nape of your neck, where the pressure increases again, just enough to push your face back into the couch and hold you in place.

“Stay.” he orders.

You hit the cushion with a sound of protest, but it quickly turns into a cry as he makes sure to hit your sensitive spot now. He’s feeling you getting close to the edge, his pace never faltering.

“De- please-” you plead, not even knowing for what at this point. All you know is the knot in your stomach’s threatening to burst any moment, the strangled cushion evidence from your desperate grip.

“It’s okay, let go baby,” he husks out, his voice strained from the effort to keep up his pace, determined to make you shatter beneath him once more, “I got ya."

When your body’s contorting, it takes all of his will to not cum along you as your walls begin to contract around his cock, the next round of shockwaves rippling through your body as you fall apart beneath him.

Your body twitches and convulses against his relentless grip, his deliberate strokes along your g-spot pulling sounds of ecstasy from the back of your throat.

Dean talks you through it, muttering words of praise somewhere above you.

Once you’ve come down from your climax, muscles going limp, covered with a sheen layer of sweat and hair stuck to your damp skin, you try to wiggle out of his grip – but Dean doesn’t ease up.

“Where do ya think you're going?” he asks and you still. His eyes narrowed, lips curled into a smug smirk.

“'M not done with you, sweetheart. Not in a long shot. You gonna be a good girl for me and take whatever I give you, ‘till I’m satisfied. Got that?”

A shiver runs down your spine. One that’s accompanied by sparks as it hits your core, eliciting a ball of unbridled, primal lust that has your hips suddenly buck like a bitch in heat. It was kinda pathetic. But you couldn’t care less. The fact that Dean knows just how much of a turn on this entire power play is, makes him all the more dangerous. And gives you all the more room to let him do just what you want.

Dean’s hips meanwhile stilled. Cock still buried deep inside you, pelvis pressed flush against your ass-cheeks.

He waits for your answer, for any trace of your safeword. His strong hands hold you in place, not wavering, but his fingertips betray him as they begin to subtly rub across your quivering muscles at your neck.

“Oh God…” you finally pant the answer, breath shaky, fingernails denting the leather surfaces, “Y-yeah- yeah I’ll be good, promise…” And you would probably do anything to be good for him right now. Anything to have him go on.

As much as you liked the thought of suspiring him by flipping him over, to take control and make the bad wolf whine between your thighs as you did so often – this feels too good to grab for the reigns. Hell, he can have you all saddled, straddled, riding crop and tied to the pole if that means he’ll hold onto control and fucking use it against you.

“Mmm-hm, Attagirl” he hums satisfied, the tone low and rumbling as the sound of wet skin slapping against wet skin takes over the room again.

You find yourself bite the pillow, not willing to entertain your neighbours with the downright sinful sounds he’s fucking out of you now.

“That’s it… Take it.” he grunts.

Dean suddenly leans forward, dogtags dropped to your back once again as he shifts his weight onto your hips, pushing them down and flush into the leather before his tongue swipes a trail along the line of your neck. Tasting your sweat, salty and thick with the smell of sex. A shuddering breath leaves you as he forces you into the new position.

His heavy breaths and gravel grunts fill your ear, his nose buried in your hair now.

“You feel so good, baby… taking me so well… doing so good for me… ‘m so proud of you…” He mutters and you whimper more in response before he straightens his back again to rock his hips in a better, deeper angle.

Damp clumps of his hair glisten against the warm morning light that has flooded the living room. Droplets cling to them. Until some stray beads of sweat form at the tips of his hair, before they drop to the back of your neck with every thrust. Cool as they hit your skin and slide down along your quivering form.

“Fuck - I missed you.” Dean rasps the words out between ragged breaths.

Another snap of his hips and he drops forward to meet your back with his chest. His forearms slam down on the couch next to your shoulders each as he catches his weight, the deck wobbling beneath you while his hands are seeking out yours.

The dogtags’ metal jingles as it finds purchase between your shoulder blades. His body’s weight is pressing into you, hot and heavy as you feel the rapid rise and fall of his chest. He nuzzles the back of your head, his large hands covering yours, intertwining his fingers to give you a gentle squeeze. Grounding not only you but also himself. And revelling in the intimacy of the moment.

“...so goddamn much,” he continues in a raw tone, the admission half-way muffled by your hair that’s caught between his lips and nose.

Thankfully he slowed his pace to a lazy drag of his hips, allowing you to catch your breath just enough to murmur back to him.

“Me too – missed you so much… missed this, missed feeling you.” A hoarse moan gets bitten back by him, mouth dipping down to your neck, where the next sound gets caught between your flesh that’s pinched between his teeth.

You hiss from the sharp pain mixing with pleasure, and he quickly swipes his tongue across the bite mark to soothe the irritated spot at the well of your neck.

“God… you’re so perfect.” he sighs, the words half-way swallowed by the love-bites he’s littering your neck with, “Couldn’t wait to come home… Come back to you… Thought I’d go fuckin’ crazy with you on my mind all the time.”

His arms shift closer, like he’s seeking your touch with every inch of his body. Boxing you in from both sides. His warm hands still cover yours, holding onto them as his head moves next to yours again, his beard scraping the sensitive skin with every hot breath that wafts down at you. Then his mouth presses against the shell of your ear.

“I’m all yours. You know that, right? Nobody gets to feel me like you do,” he murmurs, voice desperate and raw, the way only you were allowed to hear it, “And you’re all mine… ain’t that right?”- He nibs at your earlobe like a playful wolf - “Is my sweet little vixen only mine?”

The sound of him makes you melt, has you rub your body against his like a cat, arch your back into his broad form that’s caging you in beneath him as his muscles cover you from all sides in a protective way. His thighs straddling yours, his length buried inside you to the hilt, with his heavy body draped over yours.

It feels perfect. Like it's exactly where you belong.

Yes, Dean was rugged. He often acts annoyed and grumpy. He plays the perfect role of the hardened soldier he’s been raised to be. He’s overprotective to a fault and he comes off like a dominant wolf who bares his teeth at anyone who just as much as looks at you the wrong way.

But that’s only one side of his. And he’s very selective about who gets to see his other side. About who he lets in and who he keeps out.

You, he let in. Dean Winchester chose you to be closest to him, next to his brother.

And Dean craves you. Desperately. He’s hungry for you, for your touch, your praise, your love. And the moment your lips had caught his, you knew you’d spend the rest of your life giving him just that.

“Dean…” You say softly, the following words meant to be an intimate admission as much as a sultry turn on – and those two intentions mixed into a oddly satisfying, husky tone of yours that sends a shiver down his spine, “I’m only yours. All of me. And right now I’m yours to do with as you please.”

Damn, that came out sluttier than you had intended.

But his reaction was bloody worth it.

“Fuck…” Dean groans at your words, the sound coming from the depths of his chest as it vibrates against your back. His pace’s faltering and his head’s dropping to your shoulder.

You hum satisfied at his reaction.

It takes him a moment to catch his breath. But then suddenly shifts above you with seemingly newfound determination.

Without giving you a chance to react, Dean pulls you up by your hips and onto your hands and knees again. Then draws a gasp from your lungs when he angles your hips and makes your back arch.

"Need to claim every damn inch of you. Won't stop before you're a mess. Promise, sweetheart.” His voice dips into a deep timbre, the words as much a promise as a threat.

Sometimes you wonder where the hell he gets his stamina from. Sure, he was a seasoned hunter and a well trained squad leader - but don't men have like some regeneration timer going on?

Apparently Dean's an exception, because every thrust that follows is as powerful as his first.

The new, deep angle knocks the air out of you, has your fingers cling to the edge of the pillows and your legs tremble as he begins to rail you into the couch with a force that sends ripples through your muscles and pulls screams from your chest.

Once again you feel the pleasure building, hot and burning, your exhausted body overwhelmed from the immense pleasure he's hammering into you.

“Oh fuck- Dean-”

His name leaves your mouth in form of a guttural moan that gets knocked out of you, thanks to him pushing back in and hitting that spongy spot over and over to makes you see stars.

It's loud. It's messy. Sweat and slick and spit cover your bodies. The cushions smell like sex, the couch smells like sex - hell the entire living room seems to be pumped with thick, hot air, the pure lust of yours mingling and clinging to it.

You could swear you even hear Dean bite back a whimper in reaction to the outright pornographic sounds that he’s drawing from you.

It doesn't take long until you can feel the coil in your stomach tighten again with every punch, with every slap of his balls against your slick folds.

But your clit is pulsing and aching for attention as well.

Without thinking, you angle your shoulders and snake an arm below your body – but your wrist gets caught and swiftly pinned to the small of your back, the movement smooth and precise, like he’s disarming an enemy.

“Nuh-uh, sweetheart,” he chides, the deep, firm sound like fangs raking down your neck in a warning, “I’m in control. You keep your hands right here.”

He marks his last word with a squeeze around your wrist before he lets go to pull your other hand up, placing it next to it where he locks them with his fingers curled around them like a vice.

Your chest and face drop back into the cushions when he pulls your arms behind your back, a mewl of protest leaving your mouth.

“Are you gonna behave now?”

You still and grumble something into the pillow.

He squeezs his hand around your delicate wrists, followed by a pointed thrust that has you groan into the pillow.

You hesitate. Then answer with your lower lip pulled back and tugged under your teeth as you mumble a begrudging. “Yeh… Sorry…”

“What was that?”

The grip on your hip dissipates before a quick swat across your butt cheek has you yelp in surprise.

“Hm?”

“O-okay,” you whine, although the sound’s oddly close to a giggle as you find yourself almost breaking character, “I’m sorry! I’ll be fucking good, promise – but please don’t stop.”

“Damn.” He says, patting your burning ass. You can hear him laughing, but he’s trying not to. “Now look at this, so the vixen can listen.”

He leans down to place a tender kiss to the nape or your neck. “That's what I like to hear. Now be good for me...”

His hand leaves your wrists, trusting you that you'll keep them there, while he trails down between your legs where he captures your swollen nub between his calloused fingertips and flicks the rough pads over it. That motion earns him a groan from yours, hips bucking involuntarily.

Meanwhile his other hand moves to slide down your ass, his finger sliding over your back entrance where he spreads a dribble of his spit.

A shudder goes up your spine, your body tensing in anticipation as you feel him circle the tight ring. Then pushes just the tip of his thumb inside, fingers splayed out above your ass to control his pressure.

“Ffuuck,” you groan and your legs buckle for a moment, knees scraping on the couch surface in search for some grip as you press yourself further into the soft plush of the pillows.

Dean chuckles at your reaction.

“Just gotta rail you into the couch and wreck your sweet pussy. That all I have to do to make your stubborn ass listen to me every once in a while? Shoulda told me that earlier.”

You want to laugh but choke on it as his gently rocking hips pick up the pace again, hitting your sensitive spot with deadly precision while his fingers flick over your clit, all of it sending shockwaves through your entire body, like every nerve is tingling at the same time and the knot in your stomach's about to explode.

The couch shudders against the floor, its legs scraping along the wood with every inch he’s driving himself up your soft walls. The leather creaks under the relentless rhythm of skin meeting skin. Sounds of your wrecked body, strangled whimpers and slick squelching, fills the otherwise silent morning air along with primal grunts and groans of Dean above you.

“You feeling good?” He husks out. His one hand working on your bundle of nerves, now splayed out across your stomach to help you taking him by pulling you back against every snap of his hips.

You nod, at this point completely lost in pleasure-land. Mind dazed from the sleep that’s clung to you until not too long ago and the absolute bliss of feeling him claim you, feeling him inside you – his body all around and filling you up to the brim.

Your body begins to squirm involuntarily underneath him as he pounds into you. Fingers clawing at the leather, toes curling from the overwhelming force he drives you into the surface of the couch. The additional pressure of his finger inching its way inside your tight hole is just enough to bring tears to your eyes.

“Use your words, angel… am I making you feel good?” He grounds out, “Tell me.”

“Y-yes,” you sob, “so good – you’re doing so so g-good.” Dean’s eyes flutter close at the praising words and he has to bite back a low moan.

He doesn’t have to ask you whether you’re close for the third time, he knows your body well enough. Catches every twitch and every hitch in your breath. How your sounds suddenly stutter. He can hear how your whines become more desperate, can feel how your skin quivers under his touch and your body begins to fight him.

“Hold it.” he grunts as if on cue and earns himself a whine of protest as you find yourself teetering on the edge, “Not yet,” he adds and before you get to react, he suddenly pulls out from both of your holes and flips you over.

Your head’s now comfortably resting against the armrest, your back supported by the cushions, while Dean’s hips slide back between your thighs.

“Need to see you,” he mutters the silent admission while he shoves your legs apart and lines up again, “Wanna see you fall apart underneath me.”

He grabs your hands and pins them above your head. Then pushes back inside in one smooth motion, both his hands gripping your hips to pull you flush against him as he buttoms out, like he wants to make sure that every last inch of him has stretched you to the maximum around his cock.

His thumb goes to flick over your aching bud again, his fingers splayed across your stomach where he can feel a small bulge as a result of him filling you up.

A guttural sound ripples through your body. Your thighs twitch, legs resting on his hipbones as you wrap them around him to pull him in deeper.

His darkened green eyes travel up to meet yours, his voice a raw whisper, “God, you’re so beautiful.”

Not being able to hold back any longer, your hands wiggle free from his grip and dart up to grab him by his necklace, pulling him down until your lips capture his in a passionate and yet affectionate kiss.

Dean not only groans but whimpers against your mouth. His free hand searches yours, fingers slipping between your knuckles to lock them tightly together.

He starts to rock his hips again. This time slow but deep, making sure to push you over the edge this time, each move deliberate and sensual.

He pulls out of the kiss, another groan slipping him as your hand comes up to tangle into his hair and your teeth pull at his lower lip, trapping him. But he doesn’t protest, not planning to go anywhere anyway. His forehead drops to rest against yours, both damp from a thin sheen of sweat.

His gaze locks onto yours, holding it while he drives his cock up your walls and feels his own climax building. Feeling your walls shimmering around him as its reaching its tipping point.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he murmurs huskily, the words only inches from yours as they leave his lips, squeezing your hand as he gently guides it next to your head. “Let go now… fall apart for me one last time.”

And you do, your body writhing in his embrace before you shatter for a third time. The waves of ecstasy crashing down on you as your nails dig into his skin, toes curling and back arching into him.

“Fuck- yes,” he rasps out, driving his throbbing cock inside you for some more as he’s chasing his own orgasm, before his hips stutter and he follows you over the edge, spilling his warm cum inside you.

Dean collapses on top of you, his forehead dropped to your shoulder as his damp hair sticks to your skin. After a second of catching his breath, he rolls off of you, afraid he’ll crush you beneath him.

His arm quickly wraps around your shoulder to pull you flush against his side, making sure you don’t tumble off the edge of the couch as he's taking in most of the space now.

He angles is head to press a kiss to your hair before he shifts to rest his chin on your crown and you hum contently.

After a moment of both of you regaining your breaths, heart beats slowing down to a normal pace, Dean suddenly breaks the silence.

“I didn’t hurt ya, did I?” He asks, his focus somewhere past the ceiling before they trail down to meet yours.

You shake your head, “It was perfect, babe. You felt amazing.” You reply with a reassuring smile. His eyebrows twitch together, just for a split second.

“You’d tell me if I did, right?”

“Of course I would,” you turn to scratch his beard which has his eyes flutter close. You continue with a soft smile, “We haven’t got 'Cherry Pie' as a safeword for nothing… Not that I’d ever need it.”

He nods once, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah, right, right.”

Your fingers trail up and down his jawline. Slow and soothing. Your head’s resting on his upper arm while your other hand moves to draw circles on his lower arm that’s draped across your chest, heavy and relaxed. The exhaustion’s slowly taking over him now as his head grows heavier against yours and you feel his breaths slow down.

Dean melts into your calming touch. The way you’re drawing invisible patterns, how your fingernails ghost across his skin, slowly trailing up and down his arm.

He twitches slightly when the motions become more frantic. More demanding. A hiss escapes him. The gentle skimming of nails suddenly turned into a sharp sensation as they begin to dig into his skin.

Bite it. Eat it. Then break it.

Carving right through his flesh, as the cool edge cuts all the way down to his bone.

His face contorts into a pained grimace.

Small hands are clawing at his arm. While he carves screams out of it. The blade’s size bigger than the little limbs he trails the metal’s tip along. The steady motion filling the room with blood-curdling sounds, even for a hunter.

His jaw clenches and his breath quickens.

Memories flash across his inner eye. And voices of his own past self mix with the constant cries of a girl ringing in his ears.

“Out of all the hostages that son of a bitch has to ride a kid.”

"Damnit."

“And of course, out of all of those black-eyed sons of bitches only that one has the intel we need.”

“Dean, we’re running out of time. You can’t save the girl but we can save the rest of the hostages,” Sam keeps talking in his ear.

…

“Yeah- yeah you’re right.”

Dean’s body twitches.

Then his heartbeat stutters as he feels his fingers curl around the handle of the blade. His eyes slowly trail down to meet the girls wide eyes.

He did the right thing, didn’t he?

No, that’s bullshit.

It was a goddamn kid after all. No more than 6 or 7, he guessed. Somewhere in there was a scared little girl and it had to watch a man torture her because that demon just wouldn’t spit the numbers he needed to hear.

The girls small hand suddenly reaches out and Dean finds himself frozen up as she pierces right through his ribcage.

She begins to wrap her tiny fingers around his heart, tightening. His lungs seem to collapse as his entire chest is caving in around her grip.

He gasps for air, but all he can do is choke on the black smoke that’s blocking his airways.

“It was all for nothing.” the girl says flatly, “You screwed up, Winchester.”

“I - I didn’t mean to-”

She suddenly twists her grip on his heart – he groans from pain and drops to his knees so that he’s on eye-level with her now. “You think you still need this?” She squeezes his pumping organ and he doubles over, whimpering a strangled apology.

“I didn't think so.”

Then yanks it out.

Dean gasps for air, hand clapsed over his heart and his head jerks to the side as he jolts awake from his brief moment of having dozed off.

You startle at his sudden movement.

And even though he quickly goes to cover his face with his hand, as he rubs the spot between his eyebrows like he’s getting a headache, the flash of panic in his eyes didn’t escape you.

“Dean..? You alright?” You pause and try to coax his hand down to meet his eyes, “You had a nightmare..?”

“Nah, 'm fine.”

You frown at his obvious lie.

“You want to talk about what happened on your last hunt now..?”

He sighs your name, his expression growing stern, “You know I can’t tell you more about it.”

“Can’t or won’t?” You both know the answer to that. Of course he could talk with you about it. You work for Sam for Pete’s sake, there’s hardly any Intel you didn’t have access to.

“Look, I-” he cuts himself short, runs a hand down his mouth, his eyes closing for a moment before he manages to soften his tone, “Let’s not ruin the moment. Okay?”

You could point out now that talking about it might help. That sex for grounding him and helping him cope was all good and fine, but that wouldn’t change the fact that he still wouldn’t let you take part in his burdens and that whatever he went through, is still stuck in his head.

But Dean wasn’t one to respond well to prodding and you didn’t want him to clam up again or risk another argument.

“Yeah, okay…” you decide to not push him any further, “Will you at least let me treat that damn cut?” You lift an eyebrow as you gingerly brush his blemished cheek with your fingertip.

He rolls his eyes at your question and smacks his lips.

“Who made you nurse of the squad, missy?” He jabs sarcastically. You scoff-chuckle, muttering something along the lines of “Stubborn idiot” under your breath.

Dean’s annoyance dissipates when he feels your hand pull back from his arm and he quickly closes his fingers around your wrist, head tilted to look down into your eyes. “Come on, sweetheart… I’m home, ain’t I? Will you just let me enjoy my time with my girl?”

“Maybe,” you feign a pout and his eyebrows shoot up in surprise, but then your lips melt into a grin, “If you clean the crime scene between my legs.”

Dean rolls his eyes with an amused huff, pushing himself up and climbing over you, “Right, cleaning service coming right up.”

“I wanna live between your legs.” He groans softly, the sound close to a choked back whine.

Dean’s on his chest, settled between your thighs as he’d cleaned you with a warm cloth before and is now enjoying the view of your pretty pussy.

His half-lidded eyes trail up to meet yours, watching him from across your breasts.

“Afraid I don’t come for free.” You giggle and rake your hand through his still damp hair while you quip, “You gotta pay me rent for that.”

“Damn,” he huff-chuckles, his prickly stubbles scratching your inner thigh as he rests his cheek against it. “You gonna make me a broke man, sweetheart. What’s it cost, hm?”

You think for a moment, and Dean’s emerald eyes watch you closely from the spot between your legs where he’s nestled in.

“A kiss.” You hum.

“A kiss? That all?” He asks with a crooked grin. “I’ve got plenty of those in store.”

He rolls his broad shoulders to settle his body further into the warmth between your spread legs, before he places a soft kiss on the inside of your left thigh. Then quickly pinches the flesh between his teeth to make you squeak.

“See?” He mutters and peers up at you again, cheekiness tugging at his tired smile. But you smirk and roll your eyes.

“I want one every morning, every afternoon and every night before bed.” You add with a weak attempt at something that was meant to come across as playful. But Dean doesn’t fail to pick up on the vulnerability of it. The hidden motive.

His expression sobers up.

You want him to come back home safely. Every damn day.

The air between you has shifted in an instant. The casual banter suddenly transformed into something much more intimate, something vulnerable which gnaws at the deep connection you share. Something neither of you wanted to voice out loud.

But it was clear as day as it sat in the room with you two, weighing on both of your shoulders.

The ugly truth. A constant reminder of the fragility of your happiness.

And worst was, he knew it was a weight he couldn’t take away from you.

Lying to you, making hollow promises – none of those things would make it any less painful if fate decided to throw a curveball at you. And yet...

Your fingers threaded into his locks come to rest at the side of his head. He instinctively leans into your hand. Wants to commit it to his memory forever; the feeling of your soft touch, not only physical… but also the way you’re caressing his broken soul. With so much unconditional love – which he was convinced he didn’t deserve a fraction of.

“I- I’ll try,” he husks out. Voice raw, and more vulnerable than he’d liked it.

But it was you, he could lower his walls with you. At least a little.

He holds your gaze, and just for once, his eyes glaze over with a glimpse at his deeply burrowed fear, “Y'know I’ll always come back to you, right? Whatever it takes. Promise.”

He knew it was a lie.

But worst was, he saw past the smile that spread across your face, meant to reassure him;

You knew it too.

⋆ ˚｡⋆ J / NOTE And that's a wrap! Sorry for the angsty ending. I literally added it just two minutes before posting it (pls don't hate me). But I don't know what to think of how this last chapter turned out lmao. Not me rewriting this like a hunderd times. 💀 I hope it turned out enjoyable nonetheless. <3

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[lyhil]

"Like this, old friend," Lyhil replied softly, "I thought I'd never see you again, let alone have the chance to share a meal with you - and as your treat no less." Based on a small cafe segment I wrote out that has been living in my mind ever since

[bastardcherub]

fuck. wanna be put in my place so bad it’s not even funny

[arolesbianism]

Thinks oh so hard abt the spiraling upwards clan founders, especially the birchclan founders. Silly lil kitties who's pasts are drenched in blood with the primary regret of not drawing it sooner

[blueberrisdove-sideblog]

ִ ࣪𖤐 . MADE TO FUCKIN’ TAKE IT ?!

ʚଓ.˚ warnings : multi-fandom men x fem!reader. nsfw/smut, size kink/difference, overstimulation, degradation & mocking, chocking (light breath control), hair pulling, man handling, breeding kink, multiple of orgasms, multiple of rounds, dirty talk & praise & cock warming? not proof read & pretty much a quick fic.

BIG MEN WHO… don’t give a damn how much smaller you are, how your body trembles under them, barely able to handle the sheer size of their cock stretching you open. They’ll press you down, keep you in place, making you take every inch until you’re crying out, gasping, nails clawing at their back or the sheets—whatever you can grab onto as they ruin you.

“You can take it,” he mutters, voice thick with desire, watching the way your tight pussy struggles around him. “Fuck—look at that, baby. So damn tiny around me.” His big hands hold your hips, keeping you still as he sinks deeper, making sure you feel every vein, every inch of him stuffing you full.

He doesn’t wait. He doesn’t go slow. The moment he’s inside, he’s fucking into you, rough and deep, your tits bouncing with every sharp thrust. A low groan rumbles from his chest when he sees them, his hands coming up to grab at them, squeezing, his thumbs brushing over your soft nipples. “So fucking perfect,” he breathes, rolling one between his fingers, smirking when you whimper.

He loves seeing you like this—helpless under him, your clit throbbing as his cock pounds into you, stretching you in ways no one else ever could. One of his hands slides down between your legs, two fingers rubbing fast, forcing you closer and closer to the edge. “Come on, sweetheart, let me feel you,” he grunts, leaning down, his weight pressing you into the mattress. “You’re gonna come all over my cock, aren’t you? Good fucking girl.”

Your walls tighten, body arching, your moans turning to desperate cries as the pleasure builds too fast, too strong. “Too much—” you gasp, but he just laughs, his pace never faltering.

“You can handle it,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear before he bites down, making you whimper. “You were made for this. For me.”

His cock pushes even deeper, making you see stars. He doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow, only groaning at the way your pussy clenches around him. “Fuck, I’m gonna fill you up,” he growls, snapping his hips harder, his grip on you almost bruising. “Gonna pump you so full of my cum, you’ll still be dripping with it tomorrow.”

Your mind is hazy, your body nothing but pleasure and overstimulation as his cock bullies your pussy into submission. His fingers don’t stop rubbing your clit, dragging you through another orgasm even as you cry out, thighs shaking.

“That’s it,” he breathes, voice wrecked. “Just like that, baby. You’re fucking perfect.”

And he’s not done. Not even close.

Your legs tremble as he keeps pounding into you, his cock stretching you past your limit, but he doesn’t slow down—not when you’re this wet, this tight, this perfect for him. Your nails dig into his shoulders, desperate to hold onto something, anything, but it only makes him grin, a wicked gleam in his eyes as he presses you further into the mattress.

“Y-You're too big,” you whimper, voice shaky, lips parted as you struggle to catch your breath. Your pussy clenches around him, your body betraying you, and his grin only widens.

“Too big?” he repeats, mocking, one hand gripping your thigh and pushing it up to fuck into you even deeper. “You keep saying that, but your pussy doesn’t wanna let me go.”

You let out a sob when he grinds his hips against yours, the head of his cock pressing against that sweet spot inside you over and over until you're trembling beneath him. Your tits bounce with every ruthless thrust, and he watches, mesmerized, his hands sliding up to cup them roughly, rolling your nipples between his fingers.

“So sensitive,” he murmurs, his voice thick with amusement and something darker. “Poor little thing, getting fucked too good?”

Your eyes flutter shut, overwhelmed by the way his cock stretches your walls, the way his fingers keep circling your clit, sending shockwaves through your already overstimulated body. But then his hand is on your throat, not squeezing, just pressing enough to make you open your eyes and look at him.

“Don’t you dare look away,” he orders, his grip tightening just a little, making your breath hitch. His cock pulses inside you, thick and heavy, dragging along every inch of your sensitive walls as he picks up the pace. “I wanna see that pretty face when I ruin you.”

You bite your lip, trying to hold back a moan, but he sees it—sees the way your body shakes, the way your pussy clenches around him like it never wants to let go. His smirk grows.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he groans, his voice rough, his thrusts turning almost brutal. “Give it to me. Let me feel you come all over my cock.”

Your body obeys before your mind catches up, your back arching as pleasure crashes through you, your pussy squeezing him tight. A broken moan escapes your lips, and he curses under his breath, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to leave bruises as he fucks you through it, chasing his own release.

“Fuck—” his voice is strained, almost desperate, his cock throbbing inside you. He buries himself as deep as he can go, pushing past the tight clench of your walls, his pace growing erratic. “Gonna fill you up, baby. You want that?”

You nod frantically, your mind foggy with pleasure, your body still shaking. “Y-Yeah,” you whisper, voice hoarse. “Want it.”

That’s all it takes. He groans, low and guttural, his hips jerking as he spills inside you, filling you with thick ropes of his cum. He stays there for a moment, buried to the hilt, breathing heavy, before his thumb lazily circles your clit again, making you jolt.

“You thought I was done?” he chuckles, his cock still hard inside you. His grip on your thighs tightens as he pulls back, teasing you with slow, shallow thrusts. “Nah, sweetheart. I’m just getting started.”

Your whole body feels boneless, trembling under him, but he doesn’t let you rest—not when your pussy is still clenching around him, so warm, so tight, still desperate for more even if your mind hasn’t caught up yet.

“You’re shakin’, baby,” he murmurs, dragging his fingers over your stomach, pressing down just enough to make you feel the way his cock is still buried inside you, so deep it almost hurts. “But look at that—your greedy little pussy’s still suckin’ me in.”

You whimper, trying to squirm away, but his big hands grab your hips, pinning you down with ease. He tsks, amusement thick in his voice. “Where d’you think you’re going, sweetheart?” His grip tightens, fingers pressing bruises into your soft skin. “You wanted my cock so bad—now you’re gonna take it.”

Your breath catches when he pulls back, teasing, letting only the thick head of his cock stretch you open before slamming all the way back in, knocking the air from your lungs. Your legs shake, another weak whimper slipping past your lips, but he only smirks, watching the way your tits bounce with every brutal thrust.

“Fuck—so fuckin’ tight,” he groans, reaching up to grab a handful of your hair, tugging your head back so you have no choice but to meet his gaze. His eyes are dark, hungry. “You feel that, baby? Feel how deep I am? Like I was made to fuck you like this.”

You can’t speak, can’t think—just moan as he rolls his hips, grinding deep, the fat head of his cock pressing against that sweet spot inside you over and over. His free hand moves to your throat, not squeezing, just pressing, keeping you right where he wants you.

“You like it rough, don’t you?” he mutters, his voice dripping with amusement. “All fucked-out and dumb on my cock.” His grip on your throat tightens slightly, just enough to make your head spin. “Bet you can’t even talk right now.”

He’s right. You can’t. Your lips part, a broken moan escaping, and he chuckles, smug. “That’s what I thought.”

Your pussy clenches around him, your clit throbbing, and he notices—of course he notices. His other hand slides between your legs, two fingers circling your swollen clit in tight, teasing motions.

“Yeah? You like when I talk to you like that, huh?” His voice is low, teasing, his fingers moving faster. “Such a desperate little thing.”

Your body is too sensitive, too overwhelmed, but you can’t stop yourself from rolling your hips up into his touch, chasing another high. He groans, watching you, his cock twitching inside you.

“Look at you—so fuckin’ needy for me,” he mutters, leaning down until his lips brush against your ear. “Gonna come again, aren’t you? So easy. So fuckin’ easy for me.”

Your mind blanks as the pleasure slams into you, your pussy squeezing him tight, making him curse under his breath. His hips snap against yours faster, rougher, his cock bullying your tight, wet walls as he chases his own release.

“Shit—gonna fuckin’ fill you up,” he growls, his thrusts turning erratic, harder, deeper. “Gonna pump you so full of my cum, you won’t be able to walk tomorrow.”

You cry out, barely able to handle the overstimulation, your body trembling beneath him as he slams into you one last time, burying himself to the hilt as he spills inside you. His grip on your throat loosens as he groans, his breath ragged, “Fuckin’ hell finally I bred this pussy good.”

𝒸𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓉ℯ𝓇𝓈 ：MYDEI , Jing Yuan, Blade?, Xavier, Mr Reca, phainon?, Aventurine, Dr. Ratio, TOJI, sylus?, Geto?, Nanami, NIKOLAI, SUKANAAAA, Wriothesley?, Calcharo + your favs! ❤︎︎

© 2024-2025 blueberrisdove-sideblog all rights reserved. pretty please, do not steal my dividers, translate and plagiarize any of my works, or either repost my works in any other platform without asking, thank you!

[pin-k-ink]

NO SAFE DISTANCE ⋆✦⋆ ushijima wakatoshi

synopsis ➸ ushijima has never been good at self-restraint—especially not when it comes to you. but after one too many warnings from family and friends, he tries to take it easy on you. it doesn’t take long for him to realize he’s absolutely terrible at it.

tags ➸ extremely rough séx, size kínk, breéding kínk, cúmplay, overstimúlation, obséssive!ushijima, possessíveness, mild somnóphilia, unrestrained libído, degrádation, power imbalance, prímal play, impáct play, creampíe, implied dub-con, body worship, orál fixation, hair púlling, edgíng, forcéd orgásm, dírty talking, markíng, extreme sexúal tensíon, objectifícation, free use(?)

wc ➸ 7.9k

From the very first time Ushijima Wakatoshi saw you in high school, he was completely consumed by an overwhelming desire. You had a body built for sin - every lush curve and tantalizing swell crafted to turn men into drooling, subservient wrecks. Ushijima had never felt such an intense, primal craving to possess someone so thoroughly before.

He didn't bother trying to pursue you through conventional dating or courtship. The second he got you alone after volleyball practice, Ushijima wasted no time in pinning your smaller frame against the locker room wall and ravaging your mouth with hungry kisses. You melted instantly into his powerful embrace, whimpering as his calloused hands eagerly mapped every inch of your softness.

From that moment on, Ushijima was utterly addicted to having you. An insatiable hunger possessed him to constantly bend you over, hike up your skirt, and take you from behind in every public nook and cranny he could find on campus. His friends lost count of how many times they caught him rutting into you like a wild animal, his powerful hips jackhammering mercilessly as your cries of ecstasy echoed through the hallways.

"Damn 'Toshi, you're really putting that body to work!" They would joke breathlessly. "Just wait until after you put a ring on it - you'll never want to leave that!"

Ushijima merely grunted at their defeated prophecies, thoroughly convinced his sheer force of will would allow him to control his ravenous cravings once you were officially his bride. How laughably wrong he was...

Your wedding night in Bali lasted all of five seconds before Ushijima had you naked and screaming, impaled on his thick length as he took you like a lust-starved animal against the resort balcony doors. The entire honeymoon suite still reeks of your mingled scents and the obscene squelches of his cock ruining your soaked pussy for all other men. By the time you checked out a week later, the staff had to completely strip and discard the stained bedsheets you'd been ruthlessly bred upon day and night.

Two years later, and Ushijima's hunger to dominate and claim his wife's body has only grown more rapacious. He delights in keeping you perpetually stuffed full of his potent seed - bending you over at any opportunity to slake his thirst inside your abused holes. You've long since given up any notion of dignity or shame, instead reveling in your role as his cock-warmer cumdump, spread open and overflowing with his virile leavings every hour of the day.

Ushijima adored having you as his devoted, stay-at-home wife to ravage at his whim. From the moment he returned from practice or a game, you were expected to be awaiting him fully nude and presented, ready to be claimed like the obedient little bride you were. He loved seeing you in that submissive display - limbs splayed wantonly, glistening folds already dewy with arousal just from the thought of taking his thick cock again.

There was no need for clothes or modesty when Ushijima was home. Your flawless form was meant to be admired, worshipped, and thoroughly decorated with his possessive marks. He took immense satisfaction in ensuring your silky walls were never empty, always stuffed to overflowing with his potent seed. Ushijima would thoroughly breed you in every room of the house, delighting in your whimpers and tremors as he hilted himself balls-deep and flooded your quivering womb.

Despite his rough, animalistic claiming of your body, there was no denying the depth of Ushijima's love and adoration for you. In those moments after reaching his climax, he would gently gather you against his chest, raining tender kisses over your disheveled hair and face as he stroked your curves adoringly. You were his precious, beautiful wife - the only person who could inspire such paradoxical tenderness and ferocious passion within him.

However, something shifted after one particularly enthusiastic lovemaking session left you unable to walk for nearly a full day. Ushijima had carried your trembling, spent form to the bedroom and spent hours meticulously bathing you, replacing the sheets, and ensuring you were settled comfortably. Yet the sight of your listless, overstimulated state shook him deeply.

His teammates and even parents had begun remarking with more frequency about the dark circles under your eyes and how utterly depleted you seemed. "Give the poor woman a break, son," his father had chuckled, though there was a glint of concern. "Before you run her into the ground completely."

Ushijima knew they were right. As much as he treasured being able to take his wife whenever and however his formidable lust demanded, he was perhaps taking that privilege too far. You deserved to be cherished and rested, not treated as a glorified fleshlight to be used until you were an unresponsive, overstuffed mess.

So for the first time since your honeymoon, Ushijima made the difficult decision to give you a temporary reprieve from his implacable carnal urges.

At first, he'd felt confident he could control himself. How hard could it be to keep his hands off of you for a little while and allow you to recover? Ushijima was a man renowned for his incredible physical stamina and willpower on the volleyball court. Surely denying himself the intoxicating softness of your body would be simple in comparison.

He was dead wrong.

The first morning after instituting the hands-off policy, Ushijima awoke with you blissfully draped across his powerful frame in the usual naked tangle of limbs. Your bare breasts were pillowed enticingly against his chest, making his morning wood twitch traitorously against the scorching heat of your thighs.

Ushijima had to grit his teeth and squeeze his eyes shut, fighting back the overpowering instinct to roll you onto your back and spear that soaked entrance smothering his arousal. He'd been waking up to this exact same scenario for two years, instantly burying himself to the hilt and reveling in your broken gasps as he staked his claim yet again. Just because you weren't feeling well didn't give him license to deny himself his usual indulgence of your body's splendors.

It took nearly an hour of careful, measured breathing for Ushijima's lust to finally subside enough that he could safely extract himself and leave for practice. The entire grueling commute, he could think of nothing but the way your legs had been obscenely parted, glistening arousal coating your pretty lips in anticipation of him taking what was his. He'd nearly swerved into oncoming traffic at the thought of you lying there waiting for him, to be stuffed and bred and marked with his possession yet again.

But Ushijima held firm in his conviction, somehow making it to the gym in relative control of his faculties. That iron restraint lasted all of five seconds once practice began and his blood started pumping hot and hard once more.

Teammate after teammate kept offering innocuous comments that felt like a savage gut-punch: "You look extra intense today, 'Toshi. Everything okay at home?"

His eye twitched at the innocent jest, visions of your sumptuous naked frame instinctively bent in offering filling his mind. Ushijima could practically smell the addictive, slightly musky aroma of your arousal clinging to the sheets he'd been forced to abandon. He grunted in response and merely intensified the ferocity of his drills.

If only his so-called friends knew the truth of what defined Ushijima's entire home existence — namely, burying his face and cock between your heavenly thighs at every opportunity. Using your pliant form as an infinite wellspring to quench his thirst and stake his claim over and over until you were nothing but a boneless, sobbing mess glazed inside and out with his seed.

The thought alone almost made Ushijima's knees buckle right there on the court. He was sweating, shaking, utterly consumed with the need to rush home and alleviate this rapidly building feverish pressure in his loins. You'd looked so perfect laying there that morning, every lush curve and glistening crevice begging for his reverence and possession.

But he'd robbed himself of that masculine privilege, however temporarily. Now Ushijima could only grit his teeth and endure the agonizing emptiness of being denied his sweet, slick accommodations as your husband. Of not being able to simply take you and use your body to slake his basest urgings whenever the need inevitably struck.

Even after the torturous morning waking up beside your nude form, Ushijima's day was far from over in terms of temptation and denial.

Upon returning home from practice, he was immediately assaulted by the soft sounds and enticing smells of you puttering around the kitchen preparing an early dinner. Ushijima felt his arousal spike anew, mouth watering not for the food but for the memories.

There was the island counter where he'd bent you over just last week, holes already soaked in anticipation as he mounted you from behind. He could vividly picture the way your fingernails had scrabbled for purchase, mewling pleas to "give it to me" falling on deaf ears as Ushijima simply took what he wanted with rough, claiming strokes.

You didn't even have to ask anymore - he would simply spread those luscious thighs and sheathe himself home whenever the whim struck. Your role as his doting wife was to remain constantly bred and aching around the thick bulge of his cock, no matter where or when he desired to rut.

Steam billowed from the oven as you inevitably bent over, back arched and ass presented in that same wanton offering Ushijima was intimately familiar with. Just a few days ago he'd had you bent at that same angle, slamming into your ripening pussy with abandon as his heavy balls smacked that perfect jiggling rump raw.

He could practically hear the vulgar squelch of his cock excavating your insides with each punishing stroke while you squealed and begged for "more, more!" That greedy, slurping cunt audibly protested each time he hilted himself fully, never satisfied until you were swollen and seeping his thick seed in obscene rivulets.

Ushijima's jaw clenched hard enough for his temples to throb sickeningly. You didn't even seem to register his presence, too focused on preparing a meal that would ultimately end up splattered across the messy kitchen once he reasserted his marital rights. He'd made it a personal mission to christen every possible surface of their home with your mingled fluids over the years.

That table you were idly wiping down? He could clearly make out the faint indentations your nails had worn into the lacquered wood from relentlessly clawing into it while he was rutting atop you hundreds of times before. Just picturing the way your head would loll back, mouth parted in fucked-out bliss as he pounded into your welcoming depths was enough to make his cock twitch needily.

The kitchen was far from the only location drenched in such lascivious memories, either. Ushijima's hungry gaze trailed over to the plush living room sofa where he'd taken to alternating between facefucking your spit-soaked throat and slapping his heavy sack against that pretty cunt until you were a delirious, choking mess. More times than he could count, you'd ended up splayed in a helpless tangle of limbs, wheezing as he pumped load after thick load directly into your convulsing womb.

That tightness would then be stuffed into whatever spare orifice remained - be it your gasping mouth or even your perfect, puckered little asshole begging to be reamed and seeded next. You were Ushijima's personal cumdump, built to be adorned with his creamy leavings inside and out until you were rendered a gooey, thoroughly ruined wreck of fucked satisfaction.

As the days crawled by in achingly slow torment, Ushijima could feel his grasp on sanity slipping through his fingers like grains of sand. The persistent ache in his groin had bloomed into an all-consuming inferno, singeing away every ounce of his once-vaunted restraint.

He tried valiantly to cling to rational thoughts - reminders that you were the love of his life, his precious wife who deserved to be cherished and appreciated rather than rutted into oblivion at his basest whims. Ushijima wasn't some feral beast incapable of controlling his formidable lust, no matter how heavenly your body's siren call might be.

But such lofty ideals were rapidly crumbling against the onslaught of vivid memories and temptation at every turn. Simply watching you go about the most mundane household tasks was enough to reduce Ushijima to a vibrating mass of desperation, obsessively recalling every decadent way he'd claimed you in that same setting before.

The living room where you idly straightened decorative cushions immediately morphed into a garishly pornographic tableau in his mind's eye. He could clearly envision the way you'd been splayed across that very couch, legs hoisted over his straining shoulders as he pumped into you with harsh, jolting strokes. The debauched rhythmic sounds of skin smacking wetly against skin, punctuated by your broken gasps and whimpers for more, more, harder, deeper...

Ushijima's hands curled into white-knuckled fists as he willed the sordid visions away, jaw clenched so tightly he could hear his bones creaking in protest. Get a grip, he chastised himself harshly. She's not some depraved cocksleeve put on this earth solely for your pleasure. He adored and cherished you deeply - had sworn binding vows before the heavens to love, honor, and respect your sanctity just as fiercely as you committed your heart and body to him.

Yet those noble convictions crumbled like a flimsy sandcastle under the raging tide of his basest impulses whenever you wandered within arm's reach. Ushijima could practically feel the scorching phantom grip of your silken walls clinging to his aching length as you bent at the waist to gather laundry or retrieve items from lower cabinets. The sight of your lush backside wiggling hypnotically immediately triggered his body's muscle memory - of mounting you from behind, hips already pistoning greedily as he stuffed himself balls-deep into that creamy paradise with a guttural groan.

You didn't even seem to register his heated stare, focused as you were on domestic chores. But in Ushijima's mind's eye, you were already whimpering and keening, insides convulsing with each rapturous thrust as he took his well-earned marital rights over and over without reprieve. He could practically smell the musky aroma of your compounded arousal permeating the air, begging him to shed the last threads of his tattered control.

The longer he was forced to endure this agonizing denial of relieving himself inside your body's heavenly accommodations, the more Ushijima's composure began to unravel. His hands felt perpetually clammy with suppressed longing, hard cock straining needfully with every subtle wiggle or bend of your lush feminine frame as you remained blissfully unaware of the tempest brewing within him.

It was only a matter of time, Ushijima knew, before this torturous drought finally reached its breaking point and he reasserted himself as your virile, dominant caretaker. As your husband, staking his primal claim to breed you full over and over until you had no choice but to lie disheveled and sloppy with the sloshing overflow of his heady cum.

In a way, perhaps Ushijima mused feverishly, robbing you temporarily of his godly seed was an act of mercy. Because once the floodgates were finally breached, there would be no tempering the ravenous onslaught with which he intended to ravage and stake his ownership yet again. At last he understood the dire warnings his own friends and family had issued about not being able to control himself around his little wife.

So for your sake as much as his own, Ushijima continued his white-knuckled struggle to maintain the shrinking barriers of propriety and restraint, however momentary the reprieve. But with each passing moment in your smoldering presence, he felt those final fortifications crumbling at an exponential rate.

The couch cushions seemed to envelop Ushijima as he sank back, trying in vain to relax his tense muscles. His eyes were inexorably drawn to you, perched so tantalizingly on his lap as you happily snacked on treats from the pantry. Even this simple act of indulging in sweets somehow made his heart swell with tenderness.

You were a vision of cozy domesticity in that moment - casually dressed, hair slightly tousled, entirely at ease within the sanctuary of your shared home. Yet Ushijima couldn't help drinking in the sensual details of your form pressed against him. The gentle swell of your curves molding to his powerful thighs, the subtle floral scent of your perfumed skin surrounding him. Just being this close after days of forced distance made his insides churn with longing.

As if sensing his scrutiny, you glanced up with a warm smile. Ushijima's breath hitched at the unguarded adoration shining in your eyes. You were so beautiful, so precious to him. Without really thinking it through, he found himself leaning in, powerless to resist tasting those inviting lips.

The whisper-soft caress of your mouths meeting ignited an instantaneous firestorm within Ushijima's veins. He sucked in a harsh breath through his nose, hands tightening reflexively on your waist as the kiss deepened with heady fervor. Every fibre of his being thrummed with awakened desperation after being starved of your affections.

When you finally parted, you let out a breathless giggle. "Well someone clearly needed that," you teased gently, eyes sparkling with mirth and fondness. "The great Ushijima Wakatoshi getting so worked up over a little kiss..."

The warm ribbing sliced straight through Ushijima's haze of rekindled ardor, allowing clarity and a flicker of sheepish chagrin to return. Of course you'd find his churning restraint silly and overblown. To you, the past few days of self-imposed celibacy amounted to little more than a temporary, unnecessary hurdle of his own making.

"You’re making fun of me for holding back?" he couldn't resist rumbling in response, quirking one eyebrow challengingly. "Even when it’s taking everything in me not to ruin you right here, my wife?"

Rather than looking properly chastised, your eyes fairly danced with that same teasing gleam. "A struggle you seem to be failing at spectacularly, my love. This whole 'abstinence' idea was sweet but utterly pointless."

Ushijima drew in a sharp breath as your hand boldly traced the hard planes of his abdomen through his thin shirt. The simple caress felt like a lick of flame setting his insides ablaze with rekindled hunger. "You underestimate the importance of proper restraint and respect, my dearest. A man shouldn't mindlessly take and rut like some sort of—"

"Beast?" you cheerfully cut him off, emboldened fingers now trailing higher to fan against the sculpted ridges of his chest. "Is that what you were going to say? That you're some kind of ravenous animal who can't control their own lust around me?"

Despite your playful tone, your words sliced straight through Ushijima's tenuously reformed restraint. Because in his most unguarded of moments, that's precisely how he saw himself - a primal, shuddering mess reduced to bestial desperation by your very presence.

Chest heaving, he captured your meandering hand and quickly pinned it against the couch cushions in a vice-like grip. Your teasing grin faltered as you suddenly found yourself caged beneath his powerful frame, entire body radiating a scorching intensity.

"You mock what you don't understand," Ushijima growled in a low, gravelly timbre that made you shiver. “Every second near you is pure torture. Just one touch, and I lose all control…”

To punctuate his point, he rolled his hips firmly against yours, allowing you to feel the undeniable ridge of his cock straining needfully against the thin barriers between you. Your pupils flared, a tiny whimper escaping your lips in reflexive response as liquid heat flooded your features.

Ushijima continued in that same low, intense purr that seemed to reverberate straight to your core. “So you were right—I couldn’t fight it. Trying to deny how badly I want you is useless. Because in the end, I’m just a man who falls apart at the thought of being inside his wife again…”

After that heated moment of intensity, Ushijima took a deep, steadying breath and gently extricated himself from your provocative position. As much as every fiber of his being screamed to surrender fully to his primal urges, he couldn't bring himself to completely obliterate the last vestiges of his self-restraint.

Not yet, at least.

You let out a small huff of disappointment as he shifted away, leaving you flushed and aching on the couch. Ushijima's dark eyes drank in the petulant pout on your kiss-swollen lips and had to summon every ounce of willpower to avoid lunging right back in.

"Patience, my love," he rumbled, more to himself than to you. "We've waited this long..."

You shot him a look of pure skepticism. "Waited? For what, exactly? For you to completely lose your mind over some made-up idea that I need to be protected from your absolutely vanilla desires?"

Ushijima felt his brow furrow at your blunt phrasing. He opened his mouth to protest, but you barreled onward before he could get a word in.

"This whole self-imposed celibacy thing has been utterly ridiculous from the start. When are you going to get it through that thick skull of yours?" You rose up on your knees to bracket his thighs, leaving you eye-level and effectively trapping him against your soft warmth. "I'm your wife, Wakatoshi. Your partner in every sense of the word. I don't need sheltering or restraint - I need you. All of you, utterly unrestrained."

Your hands cradled his face with unexpected tenderness even as your eyes burned with determination. "So stop holding back and treating me like something fragile that needs protection. I can handle everything you have to give and more."

The challenging spark in your gaze was like a physical caress against Ushijima's resolve. He could feel it shuddering under the weight of your conviction, cracking nearly beyond repair. You always had possessed an uncanny ability to strip away his loftiest barriers with just a few choice words and that utterly arresting stare.

"You know I only ever want to cherish and respect you," he managed in a hoarse murmur. "To keep you safe and honor the sanctity of our—"

Your lips sealed over his in a searing kiss that obliterated whatever noble justification still clung to the tip of his tongue. A harsh rumble reverberated up from Ushijima's chest as his arms instinctively wound around your body, returning the embrace with rising fervor. He could already feel his restraints unraveling, fragile hold over his brazen desires slipping with each ravenous clash of your mouths.

When you finally broke away, you were both panting harshly. Foreheads pressed together, you stared up at Ushijima from under your lashes in a way that made his blood pound.

"Keep your sanctity," you breathed in a tone of husky challenge. "I'll take the unchained desire of a man utterly obsessed with making me his..."

Ushijima's chest seized with a shuddering inhalation at the blatant gauntlet you'd thrown down. He could feel the quivering threads of his propriety and misguided chivalry rapidly fraying against your onslaught of temptation. You always did know just which buttons to push to bring him inexorably to the edge.

This time, he sensed you wouldn't be satisfied until he well and truly plunged over the precipice into the yawning chasm of his most selfish, rapacious hunger. And you knew perfectly well he lacked the fortitude to deny your deliciously provocative demand, even if he wanted to.

"Minx..." Ushijima growled, the endearment dripping with a low rumble of burgeoning capitulation. "You'll very much regret poking this beast until it—"

Whatever vaguely ominous warning he'd been about to issue evaporated the second your lips crashed against his once more. Ushijima instantly melted into the searing kiss, thick arms winding around your body as you pressed flush against his powerful frame.

For several heated moments you simply lost yourselves in the messy, urgent melding of your mouths. Tongues tangled and hands roamed with escalating fervor as you both surrendered to the smoldering need that had been cruelly denied for too long.

When you finally parted for air, Ushijima's eyes were dark twin pools of want, boring straight into your soul. His chest heaved with each ragged inhale, drawing your entranced gaze to the taut ridges of defined muscle and the V-lines which pointed lower still...

A soft whine nearly escaped your lips at that tempting visual. God, you wanted - no, needed - to feel all of him against you again with no barriers. The hot brand of his weight pinning you to the sheets, thick cock sheathing itself to the hilt in your aching, neglected depths—

Ushijima seemed to read the feverish need blazing across your features. His jaw clenched almost painfully and you saw the tendons in his neck strain as he visibly fought to maintain the last threads of restraint already disintegrating between you.

"Easy, sweetheart..." he managed in a low, guttural rumble that did absolutely nothing to soothe the burning riot of arousal dancing under your skin. If anything the pet name tumbling so naturally from his lips in that gravelly tone just stoked the flames higher.

You squirmed impatiently against him, purposefully pressing your softness against his hardening length in a silent, wanton entreaty. "Don't 'easy' me, Toshi," you huffed without an ounce of real rebuke, gaze locking blatantly on his kiss-swollen mouth. "I want you so damn bad right now, it's driving me crazy."

A rumbling groan vibrated from the depths of his chest at your blunt admission. You could see his composure rapidly unraveling at the prospect of your mutual desperation - the scorching temptation to shatter that fragile control and ravage one another without further restraint.

"You have no idea the willpower this is taking..." Ushijima ground out, calloused hands flexing against the swell of your hips almost involuntarily. "To deny myself the sweetness of being buried deep inside you again after being starved of it for so long..."

You felt your core clench at the hot promise laced into his strained words. Without consciously deciding, you hooked one leg around his thighs to pull his hips flush against your own. The thick ridge of his arousal ground deliciously against your clothed heat and you sucked in a sharp breath at the exquisite friction.

"Then stop denying us," you whispered throatily into the charged air between your lips, even as Ushijima stared down at you with a look of rapt, blazing torment. "Stop being so careful and just take what you-what we- need already, dammit..."

For one tantalizing heartbeat, you saw the naked desperation and hunger flare across his strong features. You held your breath, dizzy with hope and anticipation that he would finally let his deeply leashed passions loose upon you.

But then, almost as quickly, a muscle ticked in that sharp jawline and Ushijima's expression settled once more into a mask of strained resolve. He pulled back from the tempting cradle of your heat and thighs with a shuddering exhalation. "No...not like this," he rasped out, sounding more like he was trying to convince himself than you as he averted his burning gaze briefly. "You don't know what you're asking for, my love..."

A sliver of real frustration lanced through your lust-fogged thoughts at his continued refusal to let himself surrender fully. "The hell I don't!" you snapped. "I'm asking for my husband to give me what I want, no holding back!"

Ushijima stared at you, chest heaving with the force of his inner restraint as you glared back defiantly. The simmering tension could have been cut with a knife. For a long moment, neither of you moved or spoke - you issuing an unspoken challenge, him fighting viciously against his instincts.

Then a sly look stole across your features. "You know what?" you said in a tone of feigned nonchalance. "Clearly I'm not going to get what I want from you tonight..."

You slid off the couch in one smooth motion, back pointedly turned to Ushijima as you sashayed towards the stairs with deliberate sway in your hips. "So I'll just take care of my needs myself, since you're too busy wrestling with your precious control."

The implication in your words was as blatant as it was effective. You heard Ushijima's sharp intake of breath behind you and couldn't resist glancing back over your shoulder. His entire body had gone rigid, fingers digging into the couch cushions as his eyes bored into you with an intensity that made your core clench.

Holding his burning stare, you very slowly dragged your hands up your body until they cupped your breasts through your thin shirt. You gave them a gentle squeeze, lips parting on a soft sigh of pleasure meant just for his viewing torment.

That seemed to be the final straw shattering Ushijima's tenuous grasp on restraint. With a guttural growl that sent lightning zinging down your spine, he surged off the couch in a blind rush towards you.

A bright peal of laughter burst from your lips as you whirled and bolted up the stairs, the thunder of his footsteps rapidly closing in behind. You could practically feel the scorching heat of his presence at your back as you raced down the hallway towards your bedroom sanctuary.

Just as you reached the open door, Ushijima's powerful arm whipped around your middle and wrenched you back against his heaving chest. You let out a breathless squeal of surprise and delight, struggling half-heartedly against his restraining hold.

"Let me go!" you gasped out between giddy giggles, even as your hips instinctively pressed back against the undeniable ridge of his arousal. "I told you I'd just take care of myself since you won't—"

The rest of your words were abruptly smothered as Ushijima spun you around and sealed his mouth over yours in a searing, desperate kiss. You melted against him with a muffled moan, dimly registering the way he easily scooped you up with one arm banded around your waist. Then you were moving, stumbling the few steps to fall in a tangle of limbs across the rumpled bedsheets.

When you finally surfaced for air, Ushijima was looming over you - body taut with barely restrained intensity, chest heaving, eyes dark molten pools of banked hunger. His fingers thread almost roughly through your hair, tilting your head back as he held your heated stare.

"You'll be the death of me, woman," he growled in that low rasp that never failed to make you shiver. "Pushing me to the very edge of control like some insatiable vixen..."

You shamelessly pressed your thighs together, feeling a fresh gush of arousal at his words and commanding presence towering over you. "Maybe I wouldn't have to push so hard if you'd just give us both what we desperately want already..."

The blatant challenge hung heavy in the charged air between you. Ushijima's jaw clenched almost painfully as his willpower seemingly waged one final war against his blazing desires. You could have sworn you saw a vein throb in his neck as he struggled to maintain his fracturing grasp on restraint.

Then, as if a switch had been thrown, the last of that iron control appeared to snap. Ushijima's features contorted into a look of dark rapture as he ducked down to rasp directly against your parted lips.

You could feel the scorching heat of his quick breaths fanning across your mouth as he held your unwavering stare. Ushijima's eyes had gone hooded, pupils blown wide with undisguised yearning in a way you'd never quite witnessed before. There was no pretense, no filtering or constraint remaining - just molten, primal need gazing back at you.

"Fuck..." The guttural profanity rumbled out before he could stop it, lending a gravelly edge to the deep timbre of his voice that made your insides turn to liquid fire. "You really weren't playing around, were you? Practically begging me to lose it and take what I want..."

His powerful body was pulled taut as a bowstring where it hovered over yours, every ridged muscle and tendon standing out in harsh relief. You could see the white-knuckled strain in his hands where they fisted the rumpled sheets on either side of your head. Ushijima appeared to be vibrating with the monumental effort of maintaining what little restraint still remained.

Shamelessly, you arched your back slightly to increase the tantalizing friction where your bodies weren't quite touching. You heard the sharp sound of Ushijima's indrawn breath and couldn't resist dragging your hooded gaze down his frame to the prominent ridge tenting against his pants mere inches away.

"Don't act so surprised," you murmured, proud of how your tone remained measured despite the escalating tension coiling low in your belly. "We both know how long you've been dying to wreck me like you haven't been able to all week..."

Ushijima visibly shuddered at your candid vulgarity, but didn't rebuke you. If anything, his eyes seemed to darken further into bottomless pools of banked fire. "Say it again," he demanded in a low rasp that bordered on guttural. "Tell me exactly what I've been too weak to take..."

You felt a burst of fresh arousal flood your veins at his blatant request, at the undisguised savagery flickering behind his intense stare. Ushijima wasn't playing coy or dancing around the issue with courtly pretenses any longer. He was stripping away every last veneer of propriety to reveal the rapacious, unrestrained beast you'd been trying to rouse all along.

Holding his heated regard, you deliberately shifted your hips in a slow, circular grind against the tantalizing bulge of his cock. A punched-out groan reverberated from Ushijima's parted lips at the blatant provocation.

"I want you..." you breathed out, voice already gone husky with burgeoning desire, "...to use this needy pussy however you need to, whenever you want. No more being a good little housewife, waiting for you to tie yourself into knots over being 'gentle'..."

Ushijima sucked in a sharp breath through his bared teeth, hips twitching minutely in an aborted grind against you. His mouth seemed to work wordlessly for a moment, transfixed by the searing promises tumbling so shamelessly from your lips.

"Keep going..." he all but growled when he finally regained his words. "Don't stop now, my love...not when I'm this fucking close to snapping completely and taking you up on that offer..."

You felt another frisson of heady arousal tingle through your veins at Ushijima's rasped demand, at the way his desire-darkened eyes bored into you with a blazing intensity.

Squirming against the mattress, you hooked one leg deliberately around his tensed thighs, savoring the low groan that punched out of his chest as you effectively trapped his rigid length against your scalding heat through the thin barrier of clothes.

"I want you to stop holding back..." you husked, lips brushing tantalizingly against the sharp line of his jaw as you rolled your hips in a slow, filthy grind. "No more being so careful, like I'm some fragile thing that needs protecting..."

Ushijima's thick forearms flexed against the sheets, muscles straining with the herculean effort to keep from pinning you fully beneath his massive frame and slaking his feral need. You could practically see the last fragile threads of his vaunted restraint disintegrating before your very eyes.

"I can take whatever you want to give, Toshi," you continued in a breathy murmur against the thundering pulse at his throat. "I'm your wife, made to take that big fucking cock however you crave it...to be stuffed so full over and over until I'm nothing but a shaking, sloppy mess drowning in your cum..."

A harsh, strangled sound rumbled out of Ushijima at your filthy words, hips jerking helplessly to grind his steel-hard length against your molten center with bruising force. His eyes slammed shut, sharp features contorted into an expression of rapturous abandon as he finally surrendered what little control still remained.

In one explosive motion, Ushijima crashed his mouth against yours in a messy, claiming kiss that left you both gasping and devouring each other with unbridled desperation. His thick arms wrapped around you like bands of steel, crushing your pliant curves against his unyielding hardness as the kiss rapidly descended into frenzied need.

"Fuck yes..." he growled out harshly between messy clashes of tongue and teeth, divesting you both of clothing in a frantic blur. "That's it, darling...beg for it like the filthy little cumslut you are..."

The vulgar profanity tumbled so naturally off his tongue in a way you'd never experienced before, stoking the bonfire in your core to incandescent levels. You could only whine in answer, nails dragging stinging welts down his sculpted back as Ushijima at last sealed your naked bodies together with low, rapturous groan of pure masculine satisfaction.

He was already rock-hard and throbbing where he lay flush against your thigh, the scorching heat radiating off his thick arousal making your mouth water. Without conscious thought, you found yourself grinding up against his length, coating it in a sticky sheen of your dripping arousal.

Ushijima groaned at the delicious, filthy friction, large hand gripping the swell of your ass in a viselike hold. "So wet already," he rasped out, dark eyes drinking in the sight of your bodies grinding shamelessly against one another. "My dirty wife is practically creaming herself just from the promise of getting her needy little cunt wrecked..."

You felt a shuddering moan bubble up from the depths of your chest at his crude assessment, at the unrepentant savagery gleaming in those molten eyes. Ushijima's gaze locked on your face, his free hand dragging through the slick pooling at the apex of your thighs before he raised it to your lips.

"Open," he rasped out in a voice gone hoarse with lust. You eagerly obeyed, parting your swollen lips just enough to lap up the taste of your own arousal coating his fingers. A shudder wracked through Ushijima's powerful frame as he watched your sinful ministrations, hips twitching involuntarily in search of friction.

"Good girl..." The endearment dripped like honey from his mouth, a stark contrast to the savage gleam of his eyes and the thick cock straining insistently against your hip. "So sweet for me, always eager to please and be used, aren't you?"

His words sent a hot shiver down your spine and made you clench with need. With a low, throaty whimper, you pulled away from his fingers and gazed up at Ushijima with a look of burning supplication. "Please, Toshi...I-I need—"

A soft, startled cry escaped you as his fist closed around the front of your top and ripped it open in a single rough motion. You watched, spellbound, as he did the same to the rest of your garments with little finesse, shredding them like tissue paper and tossing the scraps aside without a second glance before turning his ravenous gaze back to your exposed form.

For a few seconds, he just stared at you in awe, blatant reverence and hunger written across his chiseled features as his fingers worked to remove the rest of his clothing. Then, his entire body covered yours once more, hot flesh pressing you firmly into the sheets as Ushijima captured your mouth in a scorching kiss.

"I need to be inside you, darling," he gasped out between hungry nips and licks, "right now."

Your thighs instinctively parted in open invitation, hips canting towards him in blatant need. Ushijima settled into the cradle of your pelvis and his eyes locked onto the lewd view of his rigid length sliding against your glistening folds.

A guttural, animalistic growl vibrated up from the depths of his chest as he gripped his shaft and slowly dragged the thick head through the slippery mess pooling at your entrance. His other hand tangled in the sheets next to your head, fisting them tightly as his eyes snapped shut and he shuddered above you.

Your nails raked down the tensed muscles of his back as he repeated the motion, teasing your hypersensitive folds with agonizing deliberation. A soft whimper bubbled from your lips at the slow drag of his cockhead against your clit, at the searing heat and girth rubbing tortuously against you.

"Toshi..."

He was poised at your entrance now, tip notched just inside and pulsing enticingly, but still he hesitated. Your hands gripped his hips, silently pleading him to give you what you craved so desperately.

Ushijima's eyes opened, blazing down into yours as he held himself perfectly still. "Tell me again..." he rasped out in a tone laced with an underlying note of dark command. "Tell me exactly how much you need this."

You let out a frustrated moan and squirmed beneath him, trying desperately to press him deeper. "Need it so bad, Toshi, please!" you begged, shamelessly arching into him and spreading yourself wider. "Need you to fuck me and fill me with cum until I can't move—please, Toshi, please—"

His thick length slicked through your drenched folds in one slick glide, sheathing itself to the throbbing root with a single rough snap of his powerful hips. The harsh stretch of being reamed open by his girth made your eyes roll back, mouth dropping open on a broken keen of sheer bliss.

"That's it...ahh fuck, missed this gorgeous little cunt so damn much..." Ushijima's harsh rumble was utterly wrecked, all sense of composure or decorum evaporating as he drilled himself home over and over in a ruthless cadence.

You could only cling to his heaving shoulders, completely unraveled beneath his ferocious onslaught and utterly drunk on the searing stretch and delicious ache of being so thoroughly taken once more. It had been a week since you'd been stuffed full, and your body hadn't quite adjusted to his sheer size after the long absence.

The friction was mind-blowing, the way his girth speared you so full and deep, forcing your walls to accommodate his unyielding length with every powerful stroke. It was all you could do to breathe and hold onto Ushijima's broad shoulders, body trembling as he hammered you into the mattress with ruthless intent.

His dark eyes roved hungrily across the way your breasts jiggled from the force of his thrusts, the way his cock disappeared so completely inside you, the lewd mess he was making of your cunt. Your name slipped past his lips, a guttural curse, a plea, a prayer as he pounded into you, his gaze flicking back and forth between where your bodies were joined and the unabashed pleasure etched across your flushed features.

"Look at that...you can see where I'm splitting you wide open..." he grunted out in a strained tone, his free hand dragging roughly down the length of your torso to press against the bulge that appeared in your belly with every punishing thrust.The other braced his weight against the headboard, fingers clenching the wooden slats with bruising force.

Your mind went blank as he increased his pace, the lewd sound of your sloppy, dripping core echoing throughout the room and driving you closer and closer to the edge. You could feel the telltale tension coiling tighter and tighter in your belly, a familiar pressure mounting in response to the delicious stretch and friction of Ushijima's relentless rhythm.

"Ahhh, god, Toshi—I-I'm close—" you babbled, feeling the coil wind ever tighter, teetering precariously on the brink of release. "I'm gonna cum, please, harder, fuck—I need—"

The rest of your desperate plea was swallowed in a low moan as Ushijima leaned back on his knees, hauling your legs up and over his shoulders and folding you in half. You felt the change immediately, his cockhead now slamming ruthlessly into your deepest, most sensitive spots.

A choked sob spilled from your lips as you clung to his shoulders, overwhelmed by the sensation of being so thoroughly stretched and filled. You'd lost all sense of time or control, reduced to a quivering, sloppy mess as your husband's thick length pistoned into your overstimulated pussy.

The angle was even deeper than before, his powerful hips snapping with a vicious, rapid-fire intensity that stole the breath from your lungs. He was hitting the perfect spot with every brutal thrust, his heavy balls slapping against your ass with every drive of his hips, the lewd, wet sounds of your dripping core filling the air and mingling with his ragged grunts.

"Cum for me," he growled, eyes locked on your face as his tempo grew even more brutal. "Be a good girl and cum on this cock, just like you promised..."

As if your body was obeying his command rather than your own, a white-hot, overwhelming pleasure crashed over you. You arched and shook as wave after wave of blinding euphoria rolled through your veins. Ushijima continued pumping into you, riding out the aftershocks and prolonging your release as you cried out and trembled beneath him.

He groaned deep in his chest as your walls clenched and rippled around him, his own orgasm rapidly building with each passing second. "Fuck, I can feel you milking me," he bit out harshly, hands gripping the meat of your ass and angling you higher to better suit his frenzied pace. "So fucking tight and greedy, my darling wife..."

Ushijima's thrusts were growing more erratic, the rhythm of his hips stuttering as his cock swelled even thicker and longer. You moaned softly, feeling his girth stretch you almost impossibly wider. Your fingers tangled in the sheets, body quaking and oversensitive but still wanting more.

"F-fill me, Toshi," you begged breathlessly, gazing up at him with a look of sheer supplication. "Need to feel you cum deep inside, please..."

With a sharp groan, Ushijima's eyes slammed shut and his entire body tensed as the first thick spurt of his seed pumped into you. You shivered, moaning at the feeling of his hot, sticky release coating your insides. He was still cumming, his throbbing cock pulsing with each successive pump of his release.

Your walls fluttered around him, milking him dry and prolonging the mind-blowing pleasure as he continued to fuck you through it. Ushijima's eyes remained clenched shut, features twisted in a look of pure rapture as he pumped you full.

After several more thrusts, he finally came to a stop, breathing heavily. A satisfied smile stretched across his face as his eyes opened and fixed on your fucked-out expression. He slowly pulled out, a mixture of his cum and yours leaking from your well-used hole and dripping down your thighs.

"Mmm, look at the mess you made..." he murmured, fingers trailing down to gather some of the slick and smearing it over the reddened, swollen lips of your pussy. "Maybe I should make it even dirtier and stuff it all back inside, hm?"

Ushijima didn't wait for a reply before his thumb dragged through the sloppy, frothy mix and pushed the mess back into your twitching cunt. A small sound slipped past your lips as you felt him work his thick load deeper inside, fingers lazily pumping the rest of his cum into your dripping pussy.

He was already hardening again, his shaft throbbing where it lay thick and heavy against his thigh. You moaned softly at the sight, hips grinding involuntarily as your spent cunt clenched around his fingers.

"What should we do for round two, hmm?" Ushijima's dark gaze burned into yours, voice gone rough with desire once more. "I have several ideas in mind, but I think I'd love to see you ride me...show me what a good girl you are and take what you need, just like you promised."

Your cunt gave another helpless spasm, arousal flooding anew through your veins. It was going to be a very long night, indeed.

[dumbbitchgalore]

Old Man!Price has a thing for pretty little things.

He'd be the type of soldier to randomly pick up a dandelion or random weed flowers, inspecting it closely before crushing it in his calloused palm as if he was not admiring it a moment ago.

And you're no exception.

Pretty and perfect. An invitation for corruption as if you're begging to be ruined, shown no mercy and totally under his control. You're perfect for it, almost too perfect as if reality is playing a cruel trick on him by putting you into his arms. It was too easy, very easy but John doesn’t complain. He knows better than to fuck up a good thing by overthinking. 

John holds your nose closed, stopping you from breathing for a moment. He tsks you at your feeble attempt to take his whole length and currently you are paying the price. Eyes glaciated with struggle, slobbering down his length, your drool dripping onto your tits- a perfect display of submission, compliance. 

“I told you you couldn’t take me all the way but you just had to argue with me, didn’t you?” John says, his voice dark and glazed with authority. 

You let out a pathetic, muffled whimper, your gaze filled with apology and regret. He lets go of your nose allowing you to get a breath of air as you pull away from his cock breathing heavily and babbling a series of ‘I’m sorry’s’. 

John sighs as tears roll down your flushed cheeks.

“I’ll give you one more chance, dollface. Open wide.” 

You part your lips hesitantly, scared of disappointing him. John pushes his leaking cock past your lips, your tongue instinctively darting out to lick the tip, gathering his pre-cum as you savour the taste of his salty goodness. A soft moan of satisfaction leaves your mouth as you try your best to take him fully. 

John shudders, groaning, his eyes screwed shut. Damn it, he didn’t want you to do that, he was gonna end up cumming and at his age, there was no way he could be ready for another around straight after. 

He grips the armrest trying to think of anything else other than his pretty babe sucking his cock so bloody well. 

Ponies… Beer… Shit- No, beer makes me horny… the SAS… military life… my birdie sending me a boudoir album on our first anniversary when I was away- Lake… Lake house… Holiday… Birdie in lingerie… pretty boobs, soft, warm… Wait, no- Ah, fuck…

He gives up as he feels the impending coil about to snap. Grabbing the back of your head, he shoves his whole length in not caring about your comfort. Your nose nuzzles against his dark bush, musky scent engulfing you. John cums, cums so hard that it makes you gag and spill out of your mouth. 

You pull away panting, swallowing what remains of him. Looking up at him, you raise an eyebrow at the sudden loss of John’s control. He laid back, spent and heaving with his arm covering his eyes. 

“Let's go to a lake house, Birdie.”

[sysig]

Someone’s looking out for you ♥ (Patreon)

[lovegasmic]

OO1  𖤐 KINTOBER ; CORRUPTION

 toji, sukuna, satoru x f!reader ꒰ tw. manipulation leaning to dub con, age gap ꒱ taglist in the comments.

 𖤐 Megumi’s cute little friend from college who has the hots for Toji, but she’s just too shy and inexperienced to make the first move.

“Megumi and I? no, we’re just friends” is what you had said hours ago, when you so cutely arrived at his doorstep, with bitten lips and a notebook Megumi apparently forgot back at the lecture hall.

and Toji is not dumb not to notice the looks you give him, but it’s not sex all you want, or else you would have jumped on him on the spot, no, you’re a lot more innocent and naive, tugging on your skirt to cover your legs while sitting on his couch.

“is that so? i thought you were a thing” Toji is a lot more loose now, coming to sit next to you, a bit too damn close, and a hand on your knee.

suddenly a cheap porn video starts playing on Toji’s mind, one way too similar to your current situation, you mumbling a weak “we shouldn’t be doing this” while his hand is already sliding underneath your skirt.

his already rock hard cock twitching at the sight of your flustered self, panting for a mere touch on your inner thigh? god, Toji is going to enjoy this so much.

“boys your age don’t treat you like this” a calloused thumb tugs at your bottom lip, all puffy from your teeth digging on it, “are you going to be good for me, doll?” but can you really refuse? with the way the man towers over you, having you laying on your back, all flustered, panting with a lustful yet shy look on your eyes, one that Toji wants to turn into sheer submission.

Megumi’s not usually home, and although this detail should annoy his father, right now, the older is much happy about it, grateful that his son does not have to witness the way your puffy pussy lips part to greet the sticky, condom covered bulbous head of his cock, teasing, poking against your hole as if to taunt you to whimper louder.

“Toji...” sounds so heavenly how you moan his name, with a weak hand pushing on his lower abdomen, “we... shouldn’t...” is a weak complaint.

yet he does not even respond, almost forcefully sliding his tip into your tight cunt, grumbling at the sensation of your soft walls welcoming every fat inch, “you’re taking it well, doll” he smirks down at you, brutishly brushing your damp hair back in an attempt to be kind for a second, instead of just ravaging your insides.

your trembles, sobs and mewls all go straight to his balls, taut and full, forcefully slapping against your pussy with each thrust, no showing any signs of mercy even through your hiccuping moans, you’re enjoying it, soaking his cock down the couch, pussy fluttering and sucking him deeper with those pleading eyes of yours, dumb, gone just from some good cock.

with Toji’s large, broad chest pressing you down, forcing your hips to tilt up slightly, no one can blame you for getting cockdrunk, barely managing to squeal through the tongue shoving down your throat, “that’s an obedient girl” he chuckles, enjoying how you finally stopped mumbling comments over how this was wrong, now just focusing on soaking Toji’s balls with your creamy cunt.

 𖤐 the new sorcerer from the outskirts of town, with sparkling eyes, hopes and a dream. truly pathetic to Sukuna, to be honest, all humans are pathetic and a waste or time. but why has he gone so quiet after getting a glimpse from inside Yuuji’s body.

obsessed is not a proper word, he’s not curious either, but there’s something about you that Sukuna wants to ruin so bad, he wants... needs to break your spirit and those sparkling eyes of yours.

it kind of fucks you up how the curse seem to stop talking when you’re around, Yuuji himself telling how how odd it was for Sukuna not to pester you too.

little did you know it was all part of a plan to lure you into his domain, not even giving you a second to process what was happening, having your defenses down and much easier to manipulate, such a terrible idea for a sorcerer.

“aren’t you so naive?” his hand squeezes your cheeks together, tone mocking right against your face, “did no one teach you not to let your guard down? useless human”

embarrassment, fear and awe all burn through your veins, what did you really wish to achieve? truth was that Sukuna’s lack of interest in you only made you... needier, needy for at least some reassurance.

the curse is not foreign to how your skin heats under his big fingers, how your eyes shine uncharacteristically, this situation was not what you expected, but it will do.

“say it again, loud and clear” a low and deep rumble against your ear, keeping your back tightly pressed against his chest with an arm around your neck, mercilessly sliding that thick cock in and out of your soaked pussy.

“t—haaah, thank... you, l-lord Sukuna...!” you’re a mess, an utter mess of saliva and tears rolling down your face to soak his arm where your nails dig into for support, almost dizzy from the lack of air and the way Sukuna’s cock presses just beautifully against the firm spot inside your cunt.

the man didn’t expect for you to be so willing, but those cute eyes of yours, begging to get fucked, got the best of him. with all his hands on you, groping, squeezing nipples and ass, all wherever he can touch and angle your soft hips to take more and more of his cock inside, almost making it impossible for you to breathe from how deep it hits, thankful that his whole strength is keeping you up, balanced on your tiptoes or else you would have fallen long ago, now all you had to do was to take whatever he has left in store for you.

 𖤐 you are not Satoru’s student, but that does not mean he can’t have some fun with you.

you’re a bit too naive, aren’t you? sulking in silence at a bad grade, you’re grown, among the oldest students at Tokyo’s jujutsu tech, yet you’re in your own world, not even realizing it’s Satoru fucking up your student score.

call him a dick, whatever, you will never find out. and instead, come to his arms with a pout, asking for help to raise your grades.

a threat to stop giving you missions, or worse, sending you back home was more than enough to make you desperate.

you are so pretty when asking for help, something Satoru knew was not common, but now, you just need someone’s help, or at least some advice, and the mere thought that the white haired was your first option makes his cock throb.

“no matter what I do, it’s never enough for Yaga!” you poor thing, thinking you’re not good enough for your teacher, but Yaga is way too slow with technology as to realize your grades are strangely lower than they should, maybe he should not trust Satoru with them.

but it does not matter, because you let him touch you, you let him place you up his desk with such care you feel your face burning, setting between your thighs with kind and reassuring words, “Yaga is an idiot for not realizing how talented you are” Satoru’s voice is so low it’s almost a whisper that brushes past your ears, the same way his knuckles brush through your jawline and down your collarbone.

but you’re a sucker for those compliments, “do you believe so?” so cute, so pliant, with eyes twinkling and all.

“of course, angel...” he gauges in your reaction first, getting just a tiny squirm in return with breath hitching, “you are perfect”

it should not be a surprise to find you, merely minutes later, with his tongue down your throat and two knuckles deep into your squelching cunt, with his remaining hand squeezing your thighs and ass as if trying to leave prints of his fingers on your skin, making you ache so you remember him later.

your initial idea of seeking for help from Satoru all got drowned with his good the tips of his fingers dragged up and down your soaked walls, taking with him copious amounts of slick that just added onto the lewd sound, making a mess on the wood desk that squeaked just barely.

he’s just too good, and you’re so eager to cum that there’s not a coherent thought behind those eyes, glossy, staring in love at his own blue eyes while gushing cum all over his digits and palm.

[enhard]

enhypen’s kinks <3 (MDNI)

CW: enhypen ot6 x fem!reader (separately), unprotected sex, breeding, bondage, usage of wax, spanking, lots of dacryphilia 😵‍💫, rough sex/soft sex, body worship, blindfolding, praising/degrading, hair pulling, usage of toys, usage of petnames, squirting, sub!sunoo (lmk if i missed anything), everything is consensual

disclaimer: i am not ot6, i do not write smut with riki

wc: 2.6k words ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶

⠀ 𓂃۶ৎ members under the cut, enjoy!

이 희승 - Heeseung - wax play, bondage, breeding

There’s a reason why Heeseung always keeps rope in his nightstand. When he considers you’re acting too bratty for your own good, he just ties you up completely to the bed, looking at you while smiling. You can barely move now, but there’s nothing you love more than him seeing you so submissive like this. With your legs tied constantly open for him and your hands above your head he can’t handle not examining your pretty body every time this happens. One thing you both love doing is getting some safe candle wax you can use while you’re tied up. You’re laying so helpless there under him, you can do nothing but just wait for him to untie you if anything. He’d tie those ropes so tight around your body until they left red marks on you.

He melts the wax onto your skin, starting with your chest then moving down to your stomach, the hot wax dripping in coins on your sensitive skin. You hiss a bit from the sensation, trying to stay as still as you can. The wax prolongs your body until it finally cools off. Too bad that until the wax he poured cools, he pours some more onto your nipple. That one really makes you jump and seeing you like that just makes him wanna continue even more. This goes on for so long, until you’re covered in hardened wax that he can just take off, so he has a clean canvas again.

“You look so pretty covered in this stuff, princess” he smiles. You slightly nod while looking into his eyes. “Keep going then, cover me in wax then cover me in your cum, won’t you?” Your words went to his pants rather than his ears, getting this burning determination to do exactly that.

When you’re covered in hot wax again and again, he finally puts it down to break your insides. He thrusts into you while grabbing onto your wax covered tits, the wax popping off from him grabbing so violently. He’d pound into you while you make out with him, trying so hard not to make much noise. He’d end up using you just like a toy, while you’re laying still with no way to move, he’d cum on you over and over, his first orgasm would be inside you, as he prefers filling you up rather than anything else. His greatest desire is breeding you multiple times, absolutely filling your pussy full just to make sure you know who owns it.

As his cum oozes out of you, he would push it back in with the tip of his cock, thrusting into you again, cum getting all over his dick and balls. You completely lose your mind at this point, having shaking orgasms every few minutes or so. After that, he ends up getting 2 more cumshots on you, his milky cum leaking all over your upper body.

“Fucking hell Heeseung, you’re damn good at this.” You pant. “Oh, am I? … Wanna do it again?” he says while grabbing your face.

박 제이 - Jay - rough sex, dacryphilia, spanking

Spanking must be one of Jay’s favorite things to do to you. He goes crazy when he got you lying down on his lap while he gets to slap your ass over and over again until it turns bright red. The way your skin jiggles under his palm is a sight he never forgets, focusing on your wet pussy shaking with each slap. Sometimes he’d stay there for a long time fondling your cheeks, or your favorite part, paying more attention to your pussy that’s waiting for some love too.

Not only that, but when he gets the occasion to fuck you rough, he can’t bring himself to stop. He’d have no mercy for your hole, even if you’re whining and crying. Beg for more, you get more. He loves pinning you down, loves showing his dominance over you. There’s just something about grabbing your wrists with one hand and keeping them above your head while he fucks you. He forces you to have eye contact with him, if you take your eyes away he will stop and turn you around to spank you over and over.

He loves seeing you cry from being overstimulated. Those tears rolling down your cheeks to your chin just make his head spin. “You look so fucking hot crying like that, love” he says, grabbing your chin with his hand.

“Please…slower I can’t take… it..” you cry out. He shushes you, continuing to fuck you just as hard. You really start sobbing, trying your best to look at him through it all. You love when you have softer sex together, when he kisses your body, cuddles you while giving you slow strokes.. but you also love this part of him so much. He’s so attractive on top of you doing all this, being so rough with you and instead of slow kisses, he shoves his tongue in your mouth like you’ll never kiss again.

“Crying cause you want more, hm? I’ll give you more sweetheart. You’re the cutest.” he says softly suddenly.

You can only hum, while your lips get pouty for him.

When he’s close to cumming he’d stop himself just to make you finish first. It really doesn’t take long until you’re a mess under him. After he’s satisfied with your pleads, he’ll pull out and cum all over your stomach, while your eyes are red and wet from your tears.

심 제이크 - Jake - praising, soft sex, body worship

Jake just cannot take his eyes off you. He considers you the most perfect person in this world, not only personality wise, but also when you’re under him with your legs spread, your body glistening under the moonlight. He loves your body like nobody else could.

He’d come up behind you when you’re dressing up just to grab your waist and kiss your shoulder. “Sweet girl, you look stunning today.” Normally you would just awkwardly smile at him but now you felt like he needed a better reaction. Give him exactly what he loves.

He slowly raises your legs up to have better access to thrust into you. He starts off slow for you, letting you adjust. He presses his hand down on your lower stomach letting you feel him even better inside you. He slightly moans feeling your dripping pussy around him, resisting the urge to let out even louder noises.

“Oh…you’re perfect... princess.” He picks his pace up a bit, still trying his best to make you feel good. You tilt your head while furrowing your eyebrows, while wrapping your legs around his neck getting so desperate now. “Please... fuck me harder jake. You’re thrusting into… me so... good…” you whine. He coos, keeping the pace he’s at while whispering praises at you.

“Such a good girl, you’re taking me so well” as his fat cock plunges in and out of you, driving you insane with each thrust. He succeeds in making you lose your mind with some vanilla sex. You can’t say this isn’t reassuring to you. He loves moments like these where he gets to fuck you in cute ways, no crazy stuff overall, just lots and lots of praising and appreciation for your body.

“Oh my— I’m gonna cum soon... please.” You say desperately. He’s happy to help, but one thing about jake no matter what is that he loves to tease you, he’ll keep you on the edge for a while, calling you all sorts of names. “Come on princess, you can do this” he says, while denying your orgasm a fourth time. When he finally lets you cum, he can’t stop smiling. You squirting all over him while leaving out the lewdest sounds is something he always hoped for. He turns feral when he gets close to his release, then he’s ready to pull his condom off his dick just to cum inside you, what a waste that was, right?

박 성훈 - Sunghoon - rough sex, degradation, blindfolding

The first time you and Sunghoon tried blindfolding it really stuck with him. The way he had so much trust in you to let you blindfold him and make him feel amazing. He loves degrading you, calling you the nastiest names he can come up with, though he loves getting degraded too. He also loves pinning you down and fucking you up while you can do nothing but leave sounds, dragging his cock in and out of you so rough it’ll make you grab the sheets with all your strength. This time was different though.

He’d lay down, hands tied above his head while the black laced blindfold was tied tightly around his eyes. While on top of him, you gently grab the base of his cock, slightly jerking it. You throw your head forward to spit on it, fisting his dick harder now. His full lips parted due to the pleasure, grasping his hands together tighter.

“Fucking bitch.” He groans, buckling his hips into your hand trying to get more. Your stomach twists in all ways to his words, making you stroke him harder and harder. He leans his head back, licking his lips at the sensation.

You start getting rougher with your strokes, even handling his balls with your other hand, squeezing and massaging them to the best of your ability. “How’s this love? Feel good?” you smile. He slightly nods, his hair bouncing a bit with his head movements. “Feels amazing...you’re such a slut... fuck...” he moans out. You stop stroking him to squeeze his tip a few times, whole shots of precum lingering down his length. You rub your index finger against the slit, his most sensitive part, the precum following your finger every time you pull away. His moans get so much louder, not being able to handle it anymore. You continue rubbing him until he cums, letting out so much at once from refraining himself to cum a few times. He cums all over your hand while his mouth makes the sweetest sounds. You wanted to edge him a little bit but seems like he couldn’t stop thrusting up into your hand, therefore he came too early for your liking. You pull away from his balls, grabbing onto the base of his hardened dick again keeping it in place, while slapping it with your other hand multiple times. He jumps a few times from your sudden action, but he doesn’t want you to stop either. He lets out “ah” ‘s every time you hit his cock, the pain making him want to cry.

“Did I tell you to cum? Smack. Did I give you permission... hm? Smack. You think you can do what you want? You can’t cum until I let you. Smack.”

He starts whining, something you’ve never seen him do before. His voice cracks with each smack, his tip getting redder than it usually is.

This would continue for hours, and when you both finally finished, while taking his blindfold off you noticed he started crying during it. Seeing him like that was so hot, and you both repeated it again when you got the chance.

김 선우 - Sunoo - hair pulling, being submissive, blowjobs

Sunoo can dominate you anytime you want, but one thing he loves is being submissive all for you. You also enjoy making him feel good, enforcing some rules for him to follow.

You haven’t done this in a while therefore you missed it. This time you just made him lay down on your bed, while taking his dick in your hand. You give him slow strokes while looking up to see his reaction. He slightly moans, grabbing your wrist but you smack his hand away. “No touching love, be a good boy and stay still.” He sighs, letting you do what you want.

You spit on his cock multiple times, really coating it and leaning in to take it in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks to suck him all off even better while he starts moaning. You can never go wrong with a sloppy blowjob; another thing that makes him go crazy. He lets you suck him off to your own pace, but he can’t resist not grabbing your hair during so.

Now on his third orgasm, he’s too overstimulated to talk. He starts begging for you stop but little does he know you’re not stopping until he cums a fourth time. He pulls even harder on your hair, the pain making it hard for you to continue, but you can feel him get closer, therefore you’re not stopping.. no matter how much you’re gagging on him right now. “Please…I can’t... p... pull away” he whines. You start humming, disagreeing with his statement. You succeed in making him finish again, he doesn’t cum as much as the first time but it’s all down your throat now. You finally pull away, panting to catch your breath again. His dick starts twitching, still whining while letting go of your hair.

“You’re so cute when you’re submissive” you smile at him. He gets a little red, grabbing your cheek to look at you clearly. “I love you...” he closes his eyes to rest a bit.

From then on you did it way more often than you could imagine.

양 정원 - Jungwon - toys, squirting, humiliation

One thing Jungwon loves is using a vibrator on you. He would stick it on your clit while fingering you with his other hand, seeing you fall apart on him. He would keep going until you ended up squirting all over him. You would both do this in the comfort of your own home, but he could only dream of putting a small vibrator in your panties before going out just to tease you the whole night.

He chose to rub it up and down on the highest setting while you struggled to talk, grabbing onto his bicep to make him slow down. He’s obviously stronger than you, so your attempt to fight back doesn’t even phase him. “Such a stupid whore, you think you can just get me to stop, huh?” he says. You plead him to stop, whining and crying while your thighs are shaking. He stops at your clit again, keeping it there putting more pressure as time goes on. “Please jungwon...slow i…it down I can’t..”

He slaps your mouth, continuing to keep that vibrator on you. “Stop complaining or I might tape your mouth.”

On your second orgasm, you crack. You can’t do it anymore, but at the same time you don’t want him to stop. You grab onto the sheets, closing your eyes tight. “Why are you so whiny when you wanted this? Sit still, should I tie you up instead?” he slaps your thigh. You shake your head “sorry…so...sorr-“ but your words get cut off by a moan, when Jungwon begins thrusting into you again, pulling out beforehand after your first orgasm. He loves destroying you like this, and despite your reactions you love it too. He wants to make you cum as many times he can.

He can’t stop degrading and humiliating you while doing so too, to call you so many names and get mad at you when you act in a way he doesn’t like. He knows how to make you feel so good, a bit too good. When he gets you like this you know it’s gonna be a longgg night.

He finally pulls out and turns the vibrator off when you squirt on him a third time. Even though he acted like this with you the whole time, he never fails to give you the best aftercare you’ve got.

[prettyinsophie]

Friends with benefits! Sevika who always crashes at your place without warning or even a knock at this point. She just welcomes herself in and wherever she finds you in your crappy apartment it’s where she ends up fucking you senseless.

Your bed, the kitchen, the couch, or in the middle of a shower. She doesn’t care what you’re doing as long as she can take you the second she makes an appearance.

You’re her favorite toy, the only one she knows would let her take all her stress and frustration out on. You’re so deliciously submissive for her and don’t even put up a fight. You just take it like a good girl- her good girl.

It’s routine at this point: having her coming over late at night with her shimmer strap under her pants, aching to pound into you until you see stars and squirt enough to feed all the thirsty Zaunites of Undercity.

You’re hers. Everyone knows that. The usual handsy junkies at the Last Drop would never dare to touch you with Sevika watching over you like a hawk while you work your shitty job there.

“Fuckin’ hell, love how your sweet pussy swallows my cock. You like it? Being my sex doll for me to wear down whenever I want?” She’d grunt right in your ear while she fucks you right on the counter, with your bare tits squeezed against the harsh surface and your arousal dripping down your thighs as she thrusts like you were the one who pissed her off all day.

And you’d be able to only moan pathetically in response, your words cut off by each tough shove from her hips.

Friends with benefits! Sevika who is fucking obsessed with you to an unhealthy extent. She’s endeared by your soft skin. Plush lips that end up swollen and red after kissing and biting them, or even after you suck her dick. Luscious cunt that weeps over something as minimal as devouring your mouth while she pulls on your hair or gropes your tits. Oh, your fucking sweet tits that fit perfectly in the palms of her hands; all hers to knead, grope, slap and bite as she pleases.

Friends with benefits! Sevika who can’t stop thinking about you all day. If she’s playing cards; she’s thinking about the way she’s going to celebrate her victory. If she’s beating the shit out of some scumbag; she’s thinking about what you’re doing while she gets her hands dirty. You consume her day, night, dreams. You’re in every corner of her mind like a plague that won’t leave.

Friends with benefits! Sevika who at some point realized she doesn’t want to share you with anyone, but is too proud and goddamn stubborn to admit it out loud. So she growls countless times that you’re hers and you’ll be damned if you find someone else. Hoping that’s good enough of a confession for you to stay attached to her.

[adieutristana]

aftercare headcanons; arcane women x fem! reader

dipping my toes into nsfw stuff… i doubt i’ll ever write anything about the act of sex itself but i thought this would be sweet

summary; headcanons of what aftercare would be like with arcane women and fem! reader.

characters included; jinx, vi, mel, sevika, caitlyn.

tags/warnings; fluff, no explicit nsfw, but VERY suggestive, praise, mentions of smoking, mentions of drinking, mentions of poor mental health

men and minors dni.

jinx;

✧.* jinx is very energetic somehow. several rounds, and she’s still bouncing off the walls? of course, she’s breathless and flushed, droplets of sweat on her body, but she’s somehow just as chaotic as ever. it’s like nothing changed. also very giggly. sex gives her a rush, and she’s feeling the effects of that especially after the fact.

✧.* a tease. she’ll tell you how good you did for her, how much she loved hearing those pretty sounds you made, but she didn’t know you were that desperate. or how you were so quick to give into her bratty tendencies, indulging her with just one look of those shimmering magenta eyes. the way she begged and teased you and commanded you even while submissive doing unimaginable things to you. you couldn’t help yourself, could you?

✧.* “am i just that irresistible, huh, toots? it didn’t take much to rile you up.”

✧.* incredibly touchy. it’s no secret that jinx loves the physical contact, she needs to be somehow touching you at all times. it gives her a sense of peace, knowing you’re there and you’re real and you love her. in several ways, you serve as jinx’s sanctuary without even meaning to.

✧.* so during aftercare, she’s clinging to you, brushing stray strands of hair out of your face, pressing warm kisses to your lips, tangling your limbs as she holds you from behind, resting her head on your shoulder. taking you into her lap and holding you impossibly close to her chest as she whispers sweet nothings to you.

✧.* you’re gonna have to redo her braids. they’re a right mess after your activities, and while jinx isn’t particularly bothered by that, she’ll pretend she is. secretly, she just loves the feelings of your hands on her scalp, fingers carefully combing through her locks and braiding it.

✧.* no doubt you’re left with several bite marks and hickeys afterward. on your neck, collarbones, chest, inner thighs… sitting there and admiring her work as you’re laid beside her. just admiring her masterpiece, she says.

✧.* “what, you fancy yourself some sort of artist?” you’d tease.

✧.* “the best damn artist there is.”

✧.* even though she’s super energetic, i do think jinx would like being doted on during aftercare. run her a warm bath (she’ll demand you get in, though), get her a glass of water, maybe even make her something to eat. she won’t verbalize it, but her soft smile will make it clear that jinx appreciates it.

✧.* strangely chatty as well. jinx loves talking to you, that’s not out of the ordinary. but during aftercare, she just wants to talk, and talk, and talk. praise you, and praise you, and praise you.

vi;

✧.* out like a damn light. it takes a lot out of vi, so she’ll be able to manage staying awake for a few minutes maximum. holding you in her arms, laying her head on your lap- either way, she falls asleep rather quickly.

✧.* on the odd occasion that vi isn’t tired after your activities, she’ll pull you into her lap and just… stare at you. admire you. it may sound weird, but vi is just incredibly glad to have you. she considers herself lucky. she just wants to look at you.

✧.* “don’t mind me, baby. you’re just so damn pretty.”

✧.* one or both of you is sore after the fact. run vi a bath when she wakes up, maybe with some epsom salt. she might grumble about getting in, claiming she doesn’t need to be taken care of, but seeing her muscles relax as she eases into the warm water tells you everything you need to know.

✧.* if it’s you who’s sore, vi has methods for treating that. being a fighter, someone with strength like she does, she’s pulled many muscles in her life. she’s got a muscle relaxing cream, ice, hell, she’ll (try to) give you a massage. anything to make you feel better. she does worry, after all.

✧.* you’re marked to hell and back. vi just adores seeing proof of her love on your body. however, she’ll be a bit embarrassed if you go out in public with them. in her mind, those marks are for her eyes only. queue vi tossing you a turtleneck or a scarf, or asking if you could try to cover it with makeup.

✧.* holds you close to her while she sleeps. vi needs that feeling of security and the reassurance, she always says that she sleeps better when you’re with her. her slow breaths against your bare chest, sturdy arms wrapping around your waist, grumbling softly in her sleep about… something. you can’t quite make it out.

✧.* “sleepy… you gonna hold me while i drift off?”

✧.* probably takes a swig or two out of a flask after the fact because i think vi would become a bit self-conscious afterward- not necessarily insecure, but more self-aware. if that makes sense

✧.* the morning after especially, vi is soooo so clingy. now that she’s fully awake and functioning she’s peppering kisses all over your face and neck, holding you close to her, telling you how amazing you were the night prior. how much she loves you.

✧.* will probably insist that you stay in bed so she can make you breakfast. she’s a surprisingly good cook, after having to fend for herself and her little sister at such a young age.

✧.* vi is just caring. she wants to be gentle to you after the fact.

mel;

✧.* the sweetest, most doting woman during aftercare. mel prefers things to be slow and sensual, to profess her love to you. aftercare is no different.

✧.* taking you into her lap or vice versa, putting her head in the crook of your neck, slow, lingering kisses that leave your head spinning, running her soft hands through your hair, little praises whispered into your skin as she kisses your face, your neck, your collarbones..

✧.* mel goes the entire nine yards to make sure that you feel taken care of. she’ll run a bath for you and even toss in flower petals. she’ll grab you water even if you don’t ask for it, she’ll ask you if you need anything- a towel, tea, a meal. even if you insist that you’re okay, mel will probably do almost all of those things for you. it’s just in her nature to want to help people, why would she not want to take care of her girlfriend?

✧.* “are you sure you don’t want me to brew some tea? you look tired, dearest.”

✧.* probably will want to read afterwards. she’ll have you snuggled in her lap or laying on her chest with her back slightly propped up, reading a novel in silence, basking in your presence. mel is focused, but it’s clear that your company makes all of the difference. she’ll read out loud to you if you ask her, but she thinks you’ll fall asleep if she does. (don’t worry if you do, she finds it cute)

✧.* mel is just so attentive. she never wants you to feel as if you aren’t loved by her and she’ll do absolutely anything you ask her for. she knows how tired you must be, and despite her own exhaustion, she’ll do whatever possible to help you wind down. she’ll open a window if you need fresh air, she’ll get you fresh blankets, help you straighten up your hair, anything.

✧.* probably lights a few candles if she didn’t already, before intimacy. her room always smells incredible.

✧.* doesn’t seem like the type to leave marks to me, she’d just tire you out and vice versa.

✧.* “just one more kiss, darling. oh, who am i kidding? plenty more.”

✧.* just whispering so many sweet nothings against your skin- your chest, your neck, anywhere. soft praises like, ‘you’re so beautiful, dearest,’ or ‘you’re incredible,’ things of that sort. her voice is smooth like honey and just as sweet.

✧.* at least you’re not too worn out. mel is merciful and won’t push you beyond your limits, much preferring the intimacy and slowness. taking her time with you and enjoying it for what it is, enjoying you for what you are. aftercare is arguably her favorite part.

sevika;

✧.* yeah… good luck walking after the fact. at the very least, sevika will make sure to get you anything you need. water, definitely. maybe cough drops to ease your throat. a towel, a little something to keep you fed. she doesn’t say much during these acts, but it’s clear that sevika cares and wants you to feel the best you can.

✧.* just very, very gentle towards you. after making sure you’ve got all your bases covered in terms of care, she’ll lay down next to you, lighting a cigar and humming. looking over at you every now and again, just admiring your face. her eyes filled with warmth and a slight smile playing at her lips, sevika absolutely adores you. gods, how did she get so lucky?

✧.* actually pretty clingy. sevika will ask that you let her spoon you, sit on her lap, rest your head on her chest as you listen to the soft thrumming of her heartbeat. something. it grounds her in the moment and a moment of stillness, away from the constant chaos and disorder of her day-to-day life. she really doesn’t care how sweaty you are or how messed up your hair or makeup or (what’s left of) your clothes, she just wants to be close to you.

✧.* “come on, pretty girl. you gonna leave me all by myself over here, hm?”

✧.* on the subject of having trouble walking, sevika does not want you to move off the bed, the couch, wherever. if you really need to get up to get something, she’ll get it for you. if you need a bath, she’ll run it and carry you, gently setting you down in the tub. your muscles will no doubt be sore in the morning and fatigue will take you, the last thing that sevika wants is for you to put your body through even more.

✧.* “relax, dove. i’ve got ya covered, just let me take care of you, okay?”

✧.* sevika does get pretty tired herself, but she’ll draw her energy out as long as possible to get a little more time with you. when sleep does take her, though, she’s clinging to you and she’s out. have fun waking her up in the morning.

✧.* smells of cigar smoke, maybe a bit of whiskey and of course, sweat. but it’s strangely charming. sevika has a way of making everything work, and it’s the way she’s so confident that makes you fall for her over and over again. maybe clean her up a bit, though.

✧.* she won’t admit it, but she will enjoy if you look after her at least a little bit. even if it’s just wiping her down with a towel or running your fingers through her dark hair while giving her sweet little compliments.

✧.* the morning after is slow, and she’ll undoubtedly be up later than you are. brew her a cup of coffee, maybe press your lips to her forehead delicately to wake her up. sevika will be more than appreciative.

caitlyn;

✧.* also very attentive. she does want to take care of herself, so she’ll get herself freshened up in the shower (and invite you in), make sure she’ll be somewhat presentable in the morning. but she also does want to take care of you. she’ll be so clingy. brushing your neck and jawline and cheeks with plush lips, humming into your skin.

✧.* probably not very talkative. the silence isn’t awkward or tense, instead it’s comfortable. caitlyn will let her actions speak for her instead of speaking, although she does make sure to give a few gentle compliments to you.

✧.* “you did so well, you know that? yeah, absolutely amazing, darling.”

✧.* caitlyn probably put on a record before taking you, crackling, soft music filling the room during and after. it’s relaxing to her, being able to relax to music and enjoy your presence while you’re cuddled up next to her. staring into lapis eyes, smiling so softly. it brings caitlyn both tranquility and joy simultaneously, something she didn’t know she could feel before meeting you.

✧.* please brush through caitlyn’s hair, maybe even massage her scalp a little or wash her hair. she will positively melt under your touch, tense shoulders dropping and a sigh escaping her.

✧.* very smiley afterward. not a cheesy grin or full, toothy smile, but just something soft. you can tell just how content she is by one look at her face, especially while she’s looking at you. coming to cup your cheek and run the pad of her thumb over it, the corners of her lips tugging upwards.

✧.* caitlyn waits until you’re asleep to go to sleep herself. whether that be you in her arms, her in your arms, she doesn’t have a preference. caitlyn just wants to know that you’re okay, you’re resting well before she indulges herself in the same thing. yes, she does want to take care of her own needs, but she’s particular about this.

✧.* doesn’t matter how late it gets or how tired she is, she’ll force herself awake. probably not a healthy choice, but it’s what she does.

✧.* although i said she wouldn’t be very talkative during aftercare, she probably will whisper to you while you sleep. maybe the fact that you’re at peace is what prompts her to do it, maybe it’s that you look so damn cute.

✧.* “tired you out, did i? mm… that’s okay. i like having you like this, honestly.”