#this was meant to just be a warm up lmao

[dragon-spaghetti]

Do you think sinners miss the night sky..?

(Please click for better quality!!)

[spac-e-b0y]

"Hey, thug, what's your name??"

It was about time for a redraw, after all the old version was 5 years old now.

[ratatatastic]

"Who's idea was it to put the cone on your head for the parade? Was that all you?" "Zach Eisenberg [Director, Executive Operations]—I think is his name—he takes care of us a lot at Amerant Bank Arena. I don't know his exact role with the team but he's just kind-of always around, and helps us out. He's friends with Brooks [Koepka.] I think he helps Brooks when he comes to the games. Anyways he found a pylon or I think I might have told him—I was pretty drunk at the time but I think I told him to go get a py—'if you could find a pylon, find one!' 'Cuz they sprung that speech on me, kind-of, last second, you know, five minutes before I was supposed to go up there. I'm like, 'What the fuck am I gonna say?' So I had him go grab the pylon and I grabbed it on the side of the stage right before I was gonna do my speech. And luckily all the clips are of that, you know, me telling him to go fuck himself... 'cuz the rest of my speech was terrible. There's really nothing to it! And I'm so happy that, you know, all the clips are only of that so!" "Yeah, we didn't know you said anything else! I thought that was the entire speech!" "That's all that matters!" "Exactly, exactly! I got away with it there!"

The Cam & Strick Podcast | 7.30.24 (x)

i love finding out they basically told ekky he was gonna have to do a whole speech 5 minutes before he was up while hes been drenched from rainwater and alcohol for like the past 6 hours absolutely pissed out of his mind like yeah no wonder his speech basically culminated to THANK YOU SOUTH FLORIDA AND ALSO GIVE IT UP FOR MY D PARTNER WOOOOO yeah that tracks

"But what golf tournament* were you at shortly after that? Somebody was dressed like a cone? Was that Lomberg who was dressed in like a costume? A cone costume?" "He came—Brooks came up to you—" "No, that was his buddy, that was his buddy. He was actually a Sunrise police officer. I actually saw him last night at the Zach Bryan concert! But yeah, no, that's one of his buddies. No, he was completely put to bed the day after. Right? Like he texted me—I personally didn't care, like, how many people at a hockey game are calling me a cone and telling Barkov he's got no hands like it's—you know, that's hockey. That's sports, right? So I didn't give a shit but—yeah, no, it was all in good fun. And then I got a way to get him back! It's perfect!" "But when you did see the first video of him in the box—and I remember watching that, I'm like, 'this motherfucker is rolling esctasy!' His eyes were fuckin' gigantic, he's like, 'Aaargghh.' Like, 'I can't take him, he's calling me a cone! I can't—' But that is kind-of odd that a professional athlete is gonna call you a cone and he's like a fan of yours...it's just—it was really bizarre!" "Goofy!" "Yeah..." "And his eyes were black which, you know..." "What does that mean?" "I just know what that means... and he was fucked up, you know..." "Yeah, yeah! He was definitely fucked up and he agreed that he was fucked up. And he apologised so I didn't care, obviously. And then when I was at that golf event I should've thrown a beer at his backswing or something—at the LIV event when he was actually competing? I should've fucked with him but I couldn't do it... I couldn't—I couldn't find the courage to throw something at him..." "So did he reach out to you like that night? And say, 'Hey, dude... I was just joking, you know...'" "'I took some pills and...'"

*2023 LIV Golf Team Championship (Miami) held from Oct. 20-22 in Doral

[and i suppose more context here lombo and koepka are friends and he even showed up to his cupday when he went golfing in parkland and not to mention that lombo facilitated koepka apologising to ekky so its why the whole cone costume came to be really]

theres a lot more context about this incident and the ensuing storm after it so for archival sakes here are articles about it (x)(x)(x)(x)(x) because its quite a saga but its water under the bridge and there's only so much tabloid-esque coverage thats been reignited after the ekky speech i can take about an athlete who's dumb enough to insult another guy while hes drunk off as his ass in a fucking public setting

but anyways i think its really funny that i said to myself wow thats an oddly petty thing to admit to you know the whole wanting to throw a beer at his backswing ekky... for such a good vibes sweet man who like the only thing youve particularly said about the cone novella is "we'll never be buddies" to which you quickly retracted and then went "holding ill will against somebody and pulling negativity in your body is never a good thing"

and then i remembered who he attended the liv event with and it all made sense

behind every aqua whos being a little mean there is a much worse much more evil looming presence who is encouraging them down this dark path (a gem but especially a june gem)

truly a tale as old as time

[yki-dolls]

This was meant to be a sketch

As soon as I start putting lighting on I can't stop oh no

Once again technically one of my own designs of him but like... Honestly could be rise Leo with some funky accessories if you squint

[sundial-bee-scribbles]

hiki and geki matching post

hiki and geki matching post

[some-zer0]

May I interest you in some fem!Phoenix in these trying times?

[todayisafridaynight]

What was the occasion for Arakawa to be wearing a fluffy robe in the comic

it was that comic i was gonna do about jo takin cold baths that i mentioned during stream once LMAO

[shxwmaster]

@thasdorah sent: ╰(´︶`)╯: Do they appreciate hugs? Would they prefer to give hugs or receive hugs? What kind of hugs do they like to receive and/or give? & ಸヮಸ: Do they lean back or forward when they laugh hard? Do they snort? Slap their knee? Do that seal-esque clap? Do they often laugh to the point that you can’t hear their laugh anymore?

Physical Detail Ask Meme:

—

╰(´︶`)╯: Do they appreciate hugs? Would they prefer to give hugs or receive hugs? What kind of hugs do they like to receive and/or give?

Mathias, for the most part, does not like physical affection. For one, this is a highly paranoid man that keeps his guard up at all times. Anyone trying to get close or trying to touch him is immediately regarded as a threat; his personal space is incredibly important to him. Those he doesn't have that close of a relationship to that attempt to hug him are met with a swift redirect, chastisement, or worst case, fully taken down to the ground before they can process what's just happened to them. ( Captain Fairwind, in their early days of knowing each other, has been supplexed at least once after a surprise hug from behind )

That isn't really to say he hates hugs. He's a devastatingly touch-starved man because of his work. He tries not to get attached to anyone, always holding them at an arm's length, but the truth is he very deeply cares about the people he protects. When those people that fall into that circle offer him a hug, he does, actually, appreciate it, even if all he can do is bristle and tense when it happens, and maybe only barely pat them back to accept it. It does feel nice to know he is liked and appreciated.

He himself doesn't give hugs very often. Both because he's very reserved, and because he sometimes isn't fully sure when it would be a socially acceptable moment to offer a hug; he'll try to follow cues, but will often play it safe and just stand there instead, or give the most awkward of pats in lieu of affection. But hey, any physical affection from the Spymaster is a win.

( Sometimes, the SI:7 recruits rather young spies into their ranks, which often has Mathias feeling a certain type of way. If he's present during their training, and notices that its weighing on them or breaking them down, he'll actually very often take them aside and sit with them, talk with them to offer them advice, and can sometimes be spotted actually offering them a one-armed hug to comfort them. Mathias knows firsthand what it's like to go through this sort of training so young, and he will do his best to offer any means of comfort to them that he can offer, even if it comes off as awkward. He cares deeply for his agents; you'd be surprised at how much effort Shaw actually puts in to offer his agents emotional support. )

As for preference of hugs, though he will NEVER admit it, he very much likes the big bear hugs that fully squeeze the life out of him, ESPECIALLY if the giver is picking him up with it. He likes to be squished! He really does! He doesn't get it often. He dislikes hugs from behind unless it's from someone he really trusts, and when he gives hugs himself, they're usually one-armed side hugs, and often brief.

ಸヮಸ: Do they lean back or forward when they laugh hard? Do they snort? Slap their knee? Do that seal-esque clap? Do they often laugh to the point that you can’t hear their laugh anymore?

Shaw's the type to lean forward during a good laugh. If he's standing, he'll fold at the waist. It's a feat to get the Spymaster to laugh, let alone laugh really hard at something, so it's a rare sight to behold; when you can really get him, it's sharp, bark of laughter, he folds forward, and yes, he IS the type of person that claps at a good joke or so, or sometimes even slamming a fist on either a table or his thigh. Pumping his fists or flapping his hands are some of his few happy stims he often masks by keeping his hands folded behind his back, but a good laugh can bring that out for a moment before he pulls himself together.

Again, it is exceedingly difficult to get him to laugh like that. VERY few really can ( Edwin, Renzik, Griftah, Anduin and Flynn are among the few that can/have really get that out of him ). He's excellent at controlling his emotions. You're lucky to crack a smile out of him, and for the most part, his laughs are just a small huff, a sensible chuckle, or a grin paired with him shaking his head in disapproval. He actually does that a lot when he laughs or finds something funny, shaking his head that is.

[amsterdamlouie]

Me this afternoon to my doctor: oh, my symptoms are MILD compared to the last time I had this

Me at 7pm: *proceeds to feel incredibly tired & ill* 🤢

[screaming-into-my-void]

Kitties

A redraw of this photy

[finniestoncrane]

Virginal vault dweller reader you say?? I'd eat that up (and so would Cooper, heh) but seriously I would read the hell out of that if you're up for it <3

Different Up Here

Cooper Howard x Fem!Reader, word count: 6.3k anon thank you lmao i had already started drafting this, so vault dweller reader isn't quite a virgin but they are definitely inexperienced and have never known pleasure like the kind that cooper can offer 🤎 request info ��� prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: power imbalance, dubious consent because once you've said yes to cooper you can't change your mind, overstimulation, crying, oral sex, fingering, instructional, full penetration babiessss i realised i never tag that shit but yeah it's in here lmao, cumming inside, no protection, sweet coop afterwards but only briefly

If anyone else had asked you in that moment how you were, you couldn't have answered accurately without any hint of sarcasm and irritation. You were being worn down, like buildings by the sands of the desert. Each little molecule of your optimism being torn away from you, painful like plucking a hair. But when Cooper asked you, you tried your best to push down your knee jerk response.

"Let's see, shall we? Since leaving the vault a month ago, bravely in search of resources and supplies for my friends, I have killed, maimed, and eaten things I hope to never think of again. I'm in a constant cycle of very, very stressed and then very, very bored where there is no happy medium between fearing for my life and wishing for death. And oh, by the way, I'm sweating buckets the whole time because it's deathly fucking warm. Thank you for asking, Cooper!"

Instead, you shrugged and offered him at least a partial truth.

"It sounds silly... but I'm kind of bored."

A dry chuckle passed over Cooper's lips.

"Heh, that's a new one for out here."

Sensing an opportunity to at least get some conversation out of him, you sat up on the rusty bed frame, your body sinking into the almost entirely flattened mattress as you crossed your legs and did your best to get Cooper to talk more than a sentence at a time.

"Really? I would have thought you'd be bored a lot, especially when there's no raiders, or mirelurks, or scavengers, or feral ghouls, or super mutants, or roving gangs of-"

"See, this is why I'm never bored. Always somethin' or someone to be killin'."

"But what about like... now? When there's nothing else to do. There's no magazines, no books, no TV."

You watched as Cooper turned from you with a slight smile. You knew the one, the familiar grin that meant you'd divulged some information about your life in the vaults, something he always found so amusing. It was your naivety, your optimism. He was endlessly fascinated by it, as though listening to you talk about it reminded him of something he had before.

That fascinated you. It made you want to stay around him, the way he listened silently as you talked about the old films that were on the holotapes, the food that was still fresh and available, the music you could hear whenever you wanted to, not reliant on some two-bit radio host. He paid attention to you. And any time his deep, brown eyes focused on your lips it made your heart flutter in an admittedly unexpected manner.

Remembering that feeling, you tried again, hoping that your next approach might be something that interested him a little more than just conversation.

"You know how we used to pass time in the vaults?"

Over the sound of the evening breezes that whipped up the sand you could still hear Cooper sigh before he spoke.

"Now if you tell me that you wanna go out there again tonight to find an old blast radius board... well I am just going to have to shoot you."

You laughed at what you hoped was a joke and waved him off, despite the fact that he was still turned away from you, unable to see your gesture as he tried ignoring you in what you assumed was the hope that you might shut up and leave him alone.

"No, no no no no no. Just..."

The lump in your throat felt like it was about to choke you, so you swallowed the clump of nerves quietly, your voice trembling as you finished your sentence.

"... fooling around... y'know?"

Cooper turned to face you. You had piqued his interest, and you couldn't help but show the giddy glee on your face, the smallest smile crossing your lips as your eyes widened. But his words wiped away all hope that you had garnered in that short span of time.

"Oh... oh darlin'."

He laughed a little, each little sound of the short, sharp giggle like a slap to the face.

"I don't think you're ready for that at all."

You raised an eyebrow, defiant, irritated, and keen to know how he thought he had you pegged so quickly. You'd never talked about anything like that with him before. Was he assuming that you were a virgin based on how you behaved around him alone? Maybe he figured that the lack of flirting on your part was down to a complete lack of experience, when in reality, it was because every flirtatious quip he threw your way made you so nervous and flustered you felt like you might throw up.

"How come I'm not ready? I mean, I've... I've done stuff... I've done it!"

"The fat you're not saying it how it is makes me think that you are absolut-"

"I've had sex, Cooper. I've fucked before. I've been fucked."

Blinking off the irritation at being interrupted by you, Cooper pushed up the brim of his hat and stared directly at you, as though he was examining your, to see if you would stand up for yourself any further.

"By who? One of your little buddies underground? Fucking like little bunnies? I don't think that qualifies you, sweetheart."

"Why? Sex is sex..."

You said it with such confidence. As if you really knew. As if you hadn't spent your teenage years practising on your hand, holding a pillow close, lining up for that one girl in the vault who would sell practice kisses for extra bubble-gum. You'd had sex before, of course. You weren't a liar. Just because you'd only ever done it once didn't render it nonfactual. Just because it had only lasted for all of four minutes. Just because you weren't sure you even orgasmed, and your friend had told you that you'd know if you'd orgasmed. Just because it was all over so quickly, and he'd run off before anyone could catch you both, avoiding you at every opportunity after that.

"... Isn't it?"

"Oh no it ain't. Besides, like I keep telling you, it's different up here. Everything's different up here. And that includes fuckin'."

The way he said the word, consonants enunciated with such grit and vigour, filled your stomach with knots that began to tighten as you considered in what way things were so different.

"What exactly do you mean by that?"

Cooper sighed, exasperated, resigning himself to the fact that you were going to keep talking to him regardless of his short replies and attempts to end the conversation.

"You are a dog with a bone, huh? Ain't gonna let it go."

His yellowed teeth were exposed as his lips pulled back in a baring, mischievous smile. Those knots doubled, the ends being pulled by tension in your nervous system as Cooper's smirk put you into a dazed stupor.

"No, sir."

"Now, I don't remember signing on to be your personal tutor in all things apocalypse. Do I really need to show you how everything works up here?"

As your cheeks began to blush, you nodded enthusiastically.

"Yes, sir."

You were hopeful for just a bit of a distraction. Something to help take the stress away. To relieve the tension that had been building up between you and Cooper as of late. You'd been studying him, watching the way he looked at you, fascinated by your perceived, and frankly obvious, innocence. The way his fingers moved, contributing to the skilful way he handled his gun and his ropes. The confidence, the charisma, the charms.

You wanted him, but you weren't quite sure how to broach the situation without it seeming desperate. But you were past that now. You were desperate For anything, just something. Something to cure the monotony of walking and hiding and fighting and surviving. You didn't want to just survive. You wanted to at least find a semblance of fun and pleasure in this nightmare you had found yourself in. And in the vaults, when board games and books and debates got boring, there was always fucking. That was what you desired most right now. The fact that Cooper happened to be the closest target for your desires was just a sweet miracle, or a cruel tease depending on how willing he was.

And luckily, he seemed agreeable.

"Well then, how about you come over here and let ol' Coop show you a little thing or two about how dirty you can really get up here in the mean, dusty Wasteland, hm?"

Your excitement was palpable, even though you were trying to keep your composure. There was no escaping the echo of the giddy squeal you let out as you jumped up from the bed and made your way over to Cooper. He waited in the far corner of the room, setting himself down on an old armchair as you stepped towards him, slapping his thighs as an indication of where he wanted you. And you did as you were told, following his instructions, knowing they hadn't led you astray so far in your time together.

It felt awkward at first, being so close to him. You shifted your weight nervously, trying to get comfortable while making sure Cooper was still at ease, which of course, he was. He always was. Nothing stirred him, he was forever at peace. Competent in any situation. Quick to adapt. And as you fidgeted and fussed, you felt his strong hands pushing you forward on his lap, until your chests were practically pressed together, his hands skirting over your lower back as he held you still. In command. In control. The sudden sensation of his hands on your body made your breath hitch, a soft, surprised squeal on the inhale that had Cooper raising his brow at you.

"Now... you agree that you asked for this, alright? Because I am not going to put my effort into entertaining your little whims if you're gonna get fussy and decide it's too much for you. I did warn you."

"Yes, you did, and I really don't think you needed to. I doubt there's too much different about it, and I've picked up what I needed to know pretty quickly from your other lessons, haven't I?"

Your retaliation to his insistence that you needed him to teach you everything, and that some things just might prove themselves a little too hard even for your levels of enthusiasm, had irritated him when he'd first met you. But now your optimism and sheer refusal to believe anything was too much for you were a source of entertainment for him. A challenge.

"That's fine then, darlin'. But I'll remember that."

His eyes bore into your soul, keeping your focus on him as he dared you to look away. They sparkled as he ran his tongue over his lips, the pretence of preparing for his next words covering the obvious flirtation in the way he dragged the flat muscle along his chapped skin.

"So, gimme a benchmark here, lil lady. How much foreplay was involved in your previous encounters? I'd hate to leave you high and dry."

"Foreplay...? What... uh, what is that?"

Cooper sighed, rolling his eyes before closing his eyelids over gently.

"Well, it's something like this."

He pushed a loose strand of hair back behind your ear, rough fingers following the curve and grazing over your neck as he let them drift down the front of your chest, tickling the exposed skin as far as your jumpsuit would allow before he took a hold of the zip at the front. A quick flit of his eyes up to you seemed to ask for permission, and your small, almost imperceptible nod, told him to keep going.

Slowly, painfully so, he pulled the zip down, watching as the centre of your torso was slowly revealed to him. Smooth skin, in comparison to his anyway, clear of any unnatural blemishes or war wounds. One calloused digit followed down your sternum to your stomach and back up, hooking under the left side of the fabric and pulling it over, then the other, exposing the top half of your body to him.

Cooper traced his fingertips over the top of your breasts, watching as your chest moved in and out, slowly, but exaggeratedly. The knots in your stomach felt like they might burst with the tension as his sharp, ragged nails crossed over your hardening nipples, a gentle tingle coursing through your veins.

"Well?"

"No... n-nothing like that... just grabbing..."

"Oh yeah? You like that? How about this?"

He closed two fingers around your nipple, one hand still on your back to keep you balanced as your body reacted to his touch. Between the two digits, you felt your nipples heating up, the slight, burning pain from the way he squeezed them sending a signal down your spine that seemed to affect every part of you. Tighter, tighter, and then as your eyes closed a little more, eyelids pressed tight, he would ease up to offer some relief.

"You like that? Like it rough?"

"I think... I think I like both."

"So, something like this?"

He teased your nipples once more, pressing harder with his fingertips, pulling them out and jiggling your breasts as he tugged at them, this lewder act interspersed with a gentle caress as he held your breast against the palm of his hand, carefully cupping it as he flicked his thumb over the sensitive and completely erect nipple.

You bit your lip, trying to keep quiet, Coop's hand moved swiftly from your body to your cheeks, popping the lip back out as he pressed his thumb and forefinger into your face. Understanding the message, and seemingly showing this in your wide-eyed gaze, he let his rough, leathery hand make its way back down to your breast, cupping it once more as he spoke.

"Different, see? Pleasure is hard to come by out here. You gotta do it right when you've got the chance."

Cooper leaned into your neck, whispering the words low and slowly, his dry, chapped lips skimming over your skin as he continued.

"I bet down there they didn't know the first thing about real pleasure. Takes time, something like that. You gotta learn the body, gotta make it feel good."

His teeth grazed over your shoulder and back up along your neck before he pulled back, watching your eyes refocus from the haze of arousal.

"Did they make you feel good?"

"No."

You were confident in that statement. It hadn't felt good. It felt rushed. Clumsy. Shameful. And as you pondered it, your mouth remained open in a slight pout which trembled as Cooper asked his next question.

"And what about your pretty lips... did they kiss them?"

"A little..."

Cooper leaned in, his rough lips pressing onto yours with firm contact, his tongue staying in place as though he imagined that might be a bit too much for you right now. But that same level of restraint didn't keep him from letting his teeth catch onto your bottom lip, pulling it out, only letting go when you winced in surprise as the suddenness of the action.

"Didn't bite them either. Of course not, what am I thinking? That would be a little too adventurous for your kind."

His face took on a darker tone as he smiled knowingly towards you.

“And what about these pretty lips?”

Before you could piece together the question, his hand was diving into your jumpsuit, pushing down the front and past the waist, stroking against the front of your underwear which, by now, was soaking wet with your arousal.

“They touch these lips, huh?”

You gasped as he pushed your underwear to the side, stroking his fingers along your slick, plump pussy lips, withdrawing them soon after to taste you on his tongue, the way you had watched him taste the blood of enemies, the blood of victims.

“Stand up, darlin’… Why don’t you take that suit off, hm? Get yourself comfy.”

As you raised yourself up from his hips, your legs wobbled under you, not quite steady enough to support you so soon after being reduced to jelly by Cooper’s touch, his caramelised words that filled your ears, the sharp twang of his accent, the delicate cadence, the power rumbling underneath like an almost silent bassline.

“Do it slowly though.”

Cooper watched carefully as you stood nervously before him, shuffling out of your suit, stripping for him, your hips moving from side to side slow and steady, unintentionally sultry in the way you moved. Without taking his eyes from you he reached for his canteen, taking a long sip from it as you let your suit fall down over your legs, stepping out of it and pushing it to the side with your feet.

“That’s it, darlin’. Can’t do this half-hearted. I need to have access to all of you there. Now come sit back down.”

You held your arms in front of you, feeling far too exposed for the shelter you’d found for the evening. No windows, no locks on the doors. But it was difficult to focus on that worry for too long as you watched Cooper’s tongue flit back out over his lips, clear strands of drool sparkling in the light as he took you in, hungrily, dreamily.

“Turn around though. You face that way.”

The metal buttons on the front of his duster coat were cold against the skin of your back, but you leaned into them anyway. Cooper’s hand curved around your neck and up under your chin, holding your face forward.

“You keep an eye out, holler if you see anything coming. I’ll do everything else.”

A faint clicking sound, the safety on his gun being flicked to off, before those same fingers draped over your mound and down on to your lips, spreading them apart, the cool air of the decrepit room cooling the heat of your hot, aching cunt. With two fingers holding your lips apart, he let the middle digit tap against your clit, each tiny sensation turning your blood cold before heating it exponentially, a cold sweat beginning to form on your brow as you felt a tingle in your abdomen.

The finger that tapped the sensitive bud began stroking it from side to side, laying flat against it length wise as Cooper strummed your body, still holding your chin in his hands, smiling to himself every time your back arched away from him in intense pleasure. Every nerve-ending was at his mercy. He was right, it was different up here. But you wondered how much of that was the Wasteland and it’s effect on sexuality and pleasure, and how much of it was just him. Cooper Howard, Wasteland bounty hunter, a past life he refused to talk about, the most charismatic monster you had ever met. His fingers, daintily crossing over your clit, as you felt his breath, silent except for an occasional hum of satisfaction in the form of a long moan. Maybe it was just Cooper who was different.

It was hard to focus on this new line of though as his hard fingertips clamped down on your clit, pinching it as he rolled it between his fingers. Even harder when he let his hand drop from your neck and instead began teasing at your nipples once more. Soft, cruel flicks over the hardened bumps, his fingers at work on your body, his lips kissing at the back of your neck. Moans growing louder, more frequent, as he let himself enjoy the act of making you squirm. You could tell he was having fun, as you rolled your hips back a little, feeling the thick bulge of his stiffening cock against your rear. You wondered how it might feel, how it might look, and what he could do differently with it.

“Cooper… Coop… I think I’m going to cum…”

His movements quickened, cock twitching against your body as he pinched tighter and pressed his fingers harder against your cunt.

“Don’t you dare, little lady.”

“Ok I’ll… I’ll try but… you have to… stop… please stop… Coop…”

He ignored your please, the whining, desperate begging as you tried to stop your body from the natural, encouraged reaction.

“Have some self-control, sweetheart.”

“Cooper, I really can’t… please… please stop touching me…”

“I absolutely will not.”

Your fingers dug into his thighs, but you noticed that you refused to move away from him. You wanted to do as he asked, wanted to hold yourself back from the brink of orgasm to prolong his touch, but you couldn’t risk him actually stopping, fearing that your body might crumble if his fingers left your quivering, pathetic body for only a second.

Each stroke against your increasingly wet and sensitive pussy had you trembling and shaking, and Cooper had to remove his hand from your breast to keep you steady, placing it under your chin and holding you steady by the neck.

“I am warning you, missy.”

“Cooper… I can’t stop…”

You shuddered and whined as your body gave in to the temptation, feeling a rush of heat and relief as you came on his lap, your arousal coating his pants, adding to the collection of stains and wear on them. But he didn’t stop then.

“No wait… seriously, Cooper… I can’t… I can’t take much more, honestly…”

“Listen, I told you. I said you better not cum. I wasn’t done with you yet.”

Your eyes began to sting with tears of exasperation as your body kept on pushing to its limits, conjuring up another wave of climax, tormenting you with never-ending bouts of arousal that kept you rutting against him, despite how painful it was to keep writhing into his body. You could feel your stomach knotting again, not much time between each orgasm to relax, and you dug your hands into his thighs, pushing your body up off of him as you tensed completely.

“Ok, this time, you do it on my command. You do it when I say you can, alright?”

“Cooper…”

“Don’t give me that pleading shit, you asked me to show you how things are done. Well this is how Cooper fuckin’ Howard does things. So are you ready? You gonna come for me?”

“C-coop… I’ll… I’ll try…”

“Good girl, now you keep that mouth making those whines and moans. I don’t need you to call out my name or anything, I know I’m all you’re thinking about.”

The praise, the self-confidence, the way his fingers seemed to be pulling your orgasm out, motioning for it to come closer to him.

“Come on, darlin’, come on…”

Your vision blurred as the climax came over you, body rolling and convulsing as you came once more at Cooper’s insistence, your cheeks stained with tears, salted water rolling through the layers of grime and clearing paths to your chin.

As you settled back down onto his lap with a shudder, you felt Cooper’s fingers stroking through your hair. He was surprisingly gentle, oddly calm, but you supposed that you deserved his kindness as you had done as he had asked, making up for your previous indiscretion. He was almost cooing, shushing you as you found your breath, establishing your sense of self once more after the overstimulating orgasm that shook your core.

“You seen enough of the big bad world for one day then?”

You probably had, but you still found yourself shaking your head, ignoring the way your body reacted with a violent twitch at the notion of Cooper’s hands delivering intense pleasure.

“A glutton for punishment, hm? Or just keen to learn?”

As you pondered your answer, Cooper seemed to have come to the conclusion for you, as he tapped your hips and began to shift underneath you.

“Alright then, get onto your knees.”

Positioning yourself at his feet, you couldn’t help but look up at him, catching his eyes as he looked down at you with that unique brand of disdain and intrigue he had somehow mastered. You knew what was coming, what was about to happen, and your mouth began watering at the thought. What he might taste like. What he might look like.

You didn’t have to imagine for long though, as you could see his fingers working the belt of his pants, loosening it, unzipping his fly, and gripping his semi-erect cock at the base as he took it out, brandishing it. He kept close attention on your own eyes, a soft sigh of relief imperceptibly escaping his chest as he noticed your pupils widen, your mouth opening in preparation for him.

It was exactly as you had expected. The texture of the shaft was similar to that of his cheeks and his forearms, a similar colouring, though darker at the base and on the shaft which was tinted red. Thick, purple tinged veins covered it, winding around the length, cutting across the ridges of the scars.

“You can come closer, darlin’. I don’t know what they told you about mutations and radiation effects down there in your little utopia, but I can assure you… it doesn’t bite.”

The fear was palpable, clearly, but it was nothing to do with Cooper’s body and everything to do with your lack of experience, which, despite you arguing otherwise, was becoming plainly obvious even to you. You had only ever touched a cock with your hands outside of being quickly fucked. Several times you’d been cajoled into quickly stroking an erection under the blankets before your partner ran off to the bathroom, clean and tidy, flushing away the sins. And you were very well aware that there was always the option to suck on one, but it had never presented itself. It had never seemed that appealing to you. Until you were faced with Cooper’s.

He hadn’t even asked you to do either yet, but you found yourself curious, salivating over the thought of him, mind racing as you imagined how he might feel against your tongue.

“Can I taste it… you?”

Cooper smiled warmly, one of the few times you had seen him look at you with genuine pride.

“Now that is using your initiative. Of course you can.”

You kept your hands to yourself as you leaned in towards his body, content to let Cooper wield his length at you, his hand firm around the base as you inched closer, tongue pressed out over your lips. A strand of drool collected and spilled forward, hitting the floor in a soft patter just before the tip of your tongue came into contact with the tip of his cock.

A lot of the movements were instinctual, following your desires more than what you thought might be protocol as you dragged your tongue up the shaft and swirled over the blushing head of his cock. It tasted bitter, but in a pleasant way.  Savoury, not sweet. Salted, a tang that stayed there for a few seconds after your tongue had moved on to another spot. A flavour you found yourself craving now.

Cooper gripped tighter and pushed forward, taking you by surprise as he slid himself into your mouth, his free hand moving to the back of your head, fingers curling into your hair. As the taste of him hit the back of your tongue, cock almost touching your throat, you coughed and spluttered a little.

“Fuck me, darlin’… do you need me to show you how to do this too?”

He looked down at you, filled with pity as he saw your face. Red cheeks, puffed out, lips stretched over the girth of his cock, tears welling up in your eyes as you struggled to breathe.

“Breath through your nose… breathe in…”

You followed his instructions, instantly calmed when you found your lungs filling with air once more. Almost immediately back to enjoying yourself, the feeling of Cooper inside of you, the control he had as he held your head against him.

“Now… you don’t want to choke too much, so keep your tongue flat… yeah, just like that…”

It was so much easier like that, and you could feel your cheeks getting warmer and redder as you realised that not only had you embarrassed yourself with your spluttering and lack of knowledge, but that Cooper had clearly done this a lot.

“And your teeth… well, usually they’ll tell you to keep ‘em outta the way, but you know me… gotta be different…”

Taking the hint, you let your jaw close slightly, the pain of the stretch lessened, your teeth scraping along the top of his shaft as your tongue worked the underneath, sucking and rolling as much as you could while keeping it flat.

He didn’t say much else, and you couldn’t tell if he was particularly enjoying himself. It worried you, the fact that he had specific preferences, the way it was so clear how much more experienced he was than you. How many others had there been? And were they all better than you? As your mind wandered to your anxieties, you completely missed the fact that you had begun to drool all over yourself until Cooper relaxed his grip on your head and wiped at your chin with his thumb. Catching your eyes and sensing some of your worries, he was surprisingly quick to soothe you.

“You can swallow or spit or let it all spill out, I don’t mind makin’ a mess darlin’. But whatever you’re doing, you keep that up.”

You were so pathetically grateful for the encouragement, for the tiniest semblance of praise, that you felt yourself moaning involuntarily. The soothing motion of sucking on his cock, the taste of something new, the comforting knowledge that he was happy with your efforts. You could feel your clit throbbing, aroused by Cooper’s satisfaction, how pleased he was with the way you worked him over.

Which is why it surprised you so much when he pulled his cock from your mouth, your lips slipping off of it with a disgustingly lewd popping sound, drool spilling onto your chin in long strands which stretched from your lips to his cock and tore apart as he distanced himself from you.

And again, that sympathetic gaze, the way he could tell what you were thinking before you even said it.

“Oh, don’t you look at me with those big, sad eyes. You got nothin’ to worry about, sweetheart. That was good, ‘specially for a first try…”

He winked to you as he spoke, causing your heart to skip enough beats that you thought you might die there and then.

“… It’s just that I’m all slicked up and ready to go now… so you wanna bend over for me? Or do you wanna come sit on my lap?”

“Uh… lap, please… I was kinda bent over for the last… first time.”

“Well, you come and take a seat then, darlin’, let ol’ Coop show you something new.”

You nervously settled your entirely nude body back down onto his thighs. Cooper’s hands were gentle against your shoulders as he pulled you backwards with him, leaning at a slight angle in the chair, his cock rigid and firm as it sat against your waiting cunt, coated in your drool which almost seemed to shimmer with the dancing light of the fire.

Then, so carefully, so gently, far more than you’d ever seen him be before, Cooper took hold of his cock at the base and slid it inside of you, one hand on your stomach as he braced you, keeping your body steady as he inserted himself further and further between your clenching walls.

“Bigger than before?”

You nodded, biting your lip as you felt the distinct stretch, his rough, textured cock forcing its way inside your cunt, pressed up to the hilt, testing your limits.

“Better?”

“Mhm…”

“Speak up, darlin’.”

With your voice strained and breathy, you managed to form some words.

“Yes… it’s better.”

“That’s it, good girl. Now, I’m gonna buck my hips, ok? You just try and keep your balance.”

Below you, Cooper shifted a little, his hips rolling backwards, inches of his cock escaping your tight, aching cunt, before he rolled them forwards and upwards, back into you. A slow, steady pace that he focused on keeping until you felt warmer, more relaxed.

“You got this, it’s like riding a horse.”

“I’ve never… hm… ridden a horse…”

Cooper chuckled, a low and rasping sound that sent shivers over your skin and seemed close enough to you that it was coming from inside of your body.

“Never ridden a ghoul before either, but you’re handling it alright for a first timer.”

You were coping ok, you had to admit, but you could feel your stomach muscles tensing, the knots back in full force as they tensed and tightened, loosened and frayed with each pump of his cock within you.

“Ah… Cooper…”

“Too much, darlin’? Does it hurt?”

There was a sense of genuine care in his tone, as though he had taken it upon himself to show you that yes, things were different up there in the Wasteland, but that didn’t always mean they were worse. Some things were good, if not a little bit difficult to take at first.

“A little…”

Cooper tilted your chin up, forcing your head to lean back completely against his shoulder. In a delicate move, one far more romantic than you imagined from him, he ran his thumb over your lips, angling his neck to look at them, his own mouth open ever so slightly, a monotonous panting as he kept his hips moving, increasing the speed and the force at which he entered you.

His eyes flicked up suddenly, looking into yours, catching your gaze and holding unblinking eye contact as he spoke.

“I know… I know… Just a little longer, though…”

He closed his eyes, focusing on the feeling of his cock pushing against your body, enveloped in your hot, wet, velvety interior.

“I know it hurts… but I ain’t stopping, so don’t even ask… here…”

You watched as he brought a finger to your lips, offering it up to you.

“…you bite down on that if it gets too much, ok… but don’t hold back on those sweet sounds… I wanna hear you scream.”

With that vaguely threatening remark, he thrust up into you, banging against your body, spurring on your orgasm but unleashing a dull ache that spread through every sensitive part of you.

“Won’t… be long… keep it together… good girl…  good girl…”

It felt good, the pain, the sting, the ache, the shivers. The fact that he was using you, finding pleasure in you. All of it culminating in Cooper’s nearing orgasm which you could sense was closing in on him. His movements were becoming more frantic, sloppier, and he was mouthing all manner of sweet nothings as he let his façade slip away.

And those soft mumbles opened up into a wide roar as he clung to your body, the hand on your neck cutting off the air to your lungs only briefly, one hand on your lap pressing sharp indents into your skin as he forced himself into you. The last few moments of his fevered thrusting, fucking you wildly, drool pooling in the corner of his mouth as he rutted into you in a dazed stupor before his body gave in. His cock throbbed, each pulse sending another rope of cum against your insides, filling you with his seed as he shuddered finally, slinking backwards into the chair and taking in a deep breath as you removed yourself from him.

You’d only managed to take a few steps forward before Cooper addressed you, opening his eyes to watch you standing there awkwardly, his cum dripping down your thighs, a warmth that quickly turned cool in the air of the room.

“Did I say you could get up?”

Panic settled in your chest, aware that you had waited until you felt his muscles relax, his body retreating from you, before you slid off his cock, expecting him to push you away anyway, like your first time. You assumed he was finished, and you weren’t sure you were ready for the idea that he might not be done with you.

“Are we… oh, Cooper, I really can’t take anymore.”

Even as you stood, you could feel your legs shaking, weakened by the intense orgasms, the way they tightened against his every movement.

“That’s different up here too then, I suppose.”

Cooper stood up from the chair, pacing towards you with a purposeful stride as he pushed his cock back into his pants, zipping them up as he reached you. You inhaled sharply as he placed his hand at the back of your head, those knots in your stomach beginning to form again, worried that a further, albeit pleasurable punishment was on the cards. But you were surprised as he slid his free hand around your back, tugging at your waist as he pulled you in close to him. A quick smile before his lips were on yours, the brim of his hat pushed upwards as he leaned into the kiss. Warm, gentle, the kind of kiss you’d seen in movies. Practised and confident, meaningful, sincere.

When he pulled back, your body following him a little before you settled back onto your feet, he smiled warmly.

“Sweet with the sour, darlin’. You gotta keep ‘em wanting more.”

“M-more?”

More as in now? Or more as in the idea that Cooper had enjoyed himself and would be willing to offer that kind of pleasure to you again. And he answered with a wink.

“Definitely. There’s a still a lot you’ve got to learn.”

[esouliie]

DON’T YOU LOVE THE DEVIL?

– pairing | wanda maximoff x fem!reader

– synopsis | wanda was everything you wanted in a mom. she was kind and loving, even to those who weren’t her own children. she, however, loved you in a very different way…

– warnings | porn with plot, non con that turns kinda dub con, smut, mommy kink, spanking, thigh riding, overstimulation, aftercare, wanda is a perv lmao (18+)

[word count: 3.4k]

Summer was always your favourite time. It meant avid beach trips, ice cream dates and - most importantly - bestie sleepovers. You enjoyed staying at Natasha's house, which was much larger than yours. Wanda, her mother, was always very kind to you, even more so than your own. Because of this, throughout high school, you found yourself always at the Maximoff’s. When you were going through a difficult time, you would always turn to her for support; she was a solid shoulder to cry on as her hushed whispers soothed you.

Much like your house, Natasha’s dad was never in the picture. And because Wanda never seemed to date, it was always just them two and sometimes you. Their house was your safe haven and Wanda was your beckoning angel. Now in your last year of college, you still find yourself coming to the older woman…

Countless nights, you wished she was your mom instead.

Reaching into your pocket, you fumble around for the front key, feeling its familiar shape between your fingertips.

This was your usual routine – Natasha would text when she was nearly home from work, and you’d arrive shortly after, letting yourself in with the spare key she had given you months ago.

The door swings open with a soft creak, revealing the warmth of the home beyond. The living room is empty, just the faint hum of the TV can be heard.

As you step into the kitchen, the warm aroma of burnt vanilla envelops you. Wanda stands against the island, dressed in a large, red sweater and black skirt, with one hand scrolling through her phone as the other holds a glass of red wine. She looked radiant as ever. A grown woman confident in her own skin and her ability.

“Hey, Wanda.”

She places her phone down and greets you warmly. “Hey there, sweetheart. How are you?”

“I’m good.” You take a seat next to her and she busies herself with pouring you a glass of red. You watch her, marvelling at how effortlessly she moves around the kitchen, her movements always graceful and fluid.

"So," Wanda begins, setting the glass in front of you, "another bestie sleepover?"

“Yep! Natasha’s going to be busy with Bucky next week so we’re spending as much time together.”

Wanda scoffs at the mention of her daughter’s partner, “Yeah, she said something about going to his parent’s lake house for the week.”

You hum, reaching for a sip of the wine, awkward in the revelation of Wanda’s distaste for her daughter’s boyfriend. I mean, it’s not like you like him either. You hate him actually. He was always so weird about your friendship with the redhead, always starting arguments around how much you guys hang out together and how he thinks you have a crush on her.

Plus, Natasha was way out of his league and he sometimes treated her like shit. It was only last week when Natasha was complaining about how they had an argument during their date and Bucky left her to find her own way home…

“I really don’t know what she sees in him.”

You sigh, setting the glass back down. “Me neither. He’s an asshole.”

Lost in thought, you fail to notice Wanda’s approach until an arm laid upon your shoulder, and a hand twirled around your curls.

“You know, I always thought Natasha would end up with you.”

Shocked by her confession, you try to respond - to deny that nothing would ever happened - but your mouth is unable to move as her nails scratch against your neck.

Wanda settles down in the stool beside you, hand retreating to stroke down your arm.

"I just don't understand. He’s boring and doesn’t deserve Tasha, whereas, you’re… you’re so much better than him.” She admits softly, her gaze fixed on you.

"You’re so much more than him.”

You shrug, expelling a shaky breath as you watch her manicured nail draw patterns against your exposed skin.

Silence envelopes you both, Wanda deep in thought and you pretend to act calm about the fact that Wanda’s touch has trailed down to your hands, resting in your lap.

“You know if I were her…” Her breath flutters against your ear, “I wouldn’t even think about anyone else… when I have you.”

Your heart skips a beat at her admission.

"I..." you begin, your voice catching in your throat as you struggle to articulate the jumble of thoughts and emotions swirling within you.

It felt so wrong, and yet you didn’t want her to stop.

To keep stroking your hand,

To keep whispering in your ear.

To keep close to you.

“I think… I want to kiss you.” Wanda murmurs, her thumb gently running over your lips.

But before you could say anything, she leaned in, her lips meeting yours in a soft, tentative kiss.

“So pretty.” She whispers, lips closing in once again, but the sudden closing of a door upstairs startles you both as you pull away. Eyes wide in fear that Natasha could’ve seen you kissing her mom.

Wanda leaves her seat, an unreadable expression on her face, and disappears into the living room, Natasha’s thundering footsteps break you from looking at her as she comes downstairs. Her hair is wet, her bangs clinging to her forehead. She must’ve been in the shower.

“You made it!” Natasha exclaims before briefly hugging you and dragging you with her upstairs, “Come on. Let’s watch a movie.”

…

A few hours later, and a few movies down, you end up back in the kitchen, in search of a drink. You spot Wanda in the living room watching a show, her presence both comforting and unnerving. No longer elegantly dressed, she lounges in a maroon satin night gown. The thin fabric barely covers her long legs as it glows complimentarily against her pale skin.

Summoning as much courage, you take a seat on the other end of the sofa. The drink long forgotten. She recognises your presence but you both don’t say anything, engrossed in some reality show on TV. This distraction works for a while but then, like a shadow in the morning sun, the memory of the kiss surfaces. Heat blossoms against your cheeks but you feel it weighing on your mind, a heavy burden demanding acknowledgement.

“Wanda,” your voice so quiet she almost didn’t hear it, ‘I think we should talk about earlier.”

With a delayed hum, she turns towards you, waiting patiently for you to continue. Your words stumble out clumsily, faltering as you try to convey the complexity of your emotions. You want to explain that the kiss was wrong, that she was your best friend’s mom and that nothing like that could happen again, but you don’t want to hurt her feelings in the process.

Her expression was unreadable, you could almost hear the pounding of your own heart, the uncertainty hanging thick in the air between you. And then, finally, she speaks.

“I’m sorry, darling. I thought- it was silly and inappropriate of me.” She reaches over to briefly squeeze your hand.

“Let’s forget it happened.”

You exhale with relief, “Yeah, okay. Thank you.”

Quick to change the conversation and clear the awkward tension, Wanda asks, “How come you’re down here anyways? Where’s Natasha?”

“Oh she fell asleep.” You giggle at the unattractive image of your best friend, snoring somewhat loudly and taking up your side of the bed.

“Besides, I’m not really tired, so I thought I’d come down for a drink.”

Wanda hums, a smile on her face at the sight of you giggling so cutely.

But you notice her hands run over bare arms, soothing the goosebumps and the slight shiver, “Are you cold?”

She looks at you for a moment, eyes taking in your concerned features before she nods.

“I’ll get you a blanket.” You move to stand but a grip on your wrist halts you.

“Don’t bother. Just sit here.”

She leans back against the pillows, legs parting slightly. Your brows furrow in confusion.

She tugs your wrist softly, “Don’t think, just come here.”

She pulls you to sit between her thighs, flush against her front as she winds her arms around you. It wasn’t uncommon being hugged by the older woman but it’s never been like this. But despite earlier, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of comfort wash over you. The room even felt cosier now all that tension was gone. So, you lean back into her embrace, feeling her steady heartbeat against your back and her warm thighs brush against yours.

“Hm, much better. You’ve always run hot.” Her face snuggles into your curls and you giggle.

Her large hands dip, holding softly onto your hips, pulling you even closer with a silent groan, before descending to your thighs. A shiver of anticipation runs down your spine, but you maintain composure, thinking nothing of the surely innocent touch as you focus on the TV screen in front of you.

Her touch is gentle, sending a warm current through your body with each stroke. You feel your legs widen, following in the direction of her strokes, not wanting the caress to stop. The show on the TV fades into the background as your attention becomes solely fixated on her.

She leans in closer, her breath warm against your ear as she whispers, “Pretty girl... feels good, doesn’t it?”

You nod, allowing yourself to melt further into her embrace, your head resting against her shoulder instead of watching her hands.

Wanda tuts, “No, baby, head up.”

A single hand moves from your thigh to hold the back of your head, forcing you to look down at your entwined legs. Another hand wanders higher than expected, tracing small circles into your inner thigh, jarring you out of your trance as you go to wiggle free from her grip. “Wanda… that’s-”

Your speech is cut off as fingers slip under your shorts, and you gasp, squirming with renewed vigour. But her hold refuses even the feeblest motions as she wraps an arm around your waist.

“Wanda… please!”

“Don’t think, baby.” She warns again, fingers gliding further into your shorts. “Just let yourself feel good.”

You fight harder, hips snapping away from her touch as hands pry at her wrist. “Get off me!”

“No, you’re not getting up.” You squirm again, and without warning, she digs her nails harshly into your soft skin. “I said, you’re not getting up.”

You whimper in pain and stop your movement. Instantly, her nails pull back from your skin, leaving red angry crescent marks. Those fingertips gently caress the marks to soothe them before moving up under your shirt.

“Good girl.” Those words bring an odd warmth to your body and suddenly you think that letting Wanda have her way with you couldn’t be as bad as you initially thought…

But light fingers caressing up and down your stomach, inching closer to your breasts reminded you of the position you’re in.

This was your best friend’s mom.

Natasha didn’t deserve this.

“Wanda, we can’t… it’s not right. What about Nat-?”

“It’s fine, princess.” She interrupts, placing a few chaste kisses against your neck. “She won’t find out.”

Suddenly, those hands slide up over your bare breasts and gently squeeze. You take in a deep breath and exhale slowly with a soft whimper. Pleased with the response, she begins to knead them kindly alternating between light and firm pressure.

“You like that, baby?” Wanda coos then nibbles on the side of your ear, descending your neck carefully to not leave bites and marks in place.

Your back arches slightly, pressing your breasts deeper into her adept grasp, and your defiance fades ever so quickly with each breathy moan.

“Hm, so needy, so responsive…” thumbs swipes over your perked nipples, “and all I’m doing is playing with your tits, princess.”

Your increased whines answer in reply and Wanda doesn’t bother wasting time anymore. Lifting a hand from its spot under your top, she glides down under your shorts. Her lithe fingers ghost over the soaked underwear, travelling low enough to feel the wetness seep from your slit, and she moans lowly at the sensation. “You’re so wet… fuck, is this all for me?”

Battling between not wanting this and giving in to her, you also fight the urge to thrust your hips upwards, to search for some needed friction, to end the maddening ache between your thighs.

The older woman’s light touches feel like heaven and hell as nimble fingers slide up and down the fabric that clung to you, purposely missing where you needed her most.

“That’s it, baby. Relax… let go for me.”

A strange fuzziness washes over you completely as you relax - moral sobriety long forgotten - as your legs spread apart limply for Wanda to grope in every direction.

 “M’kay.” You reply, barely hearing yourself, lost in the moment.

Wanda sighs contently, forever pleased she’s put you in this headspace with such little fight.

Focusing back on your neck, she licks along the flushed skin, and as she bites against your pulse a little harder, the slight pain has you quivering.

You melt into the warm heat below you, head resting against a firm shoulder, as you let out a moan laced with pleasure and slight frustration. Hips bucking slightly back into Wanda’s hoping she’d take the hint and get on with it.

The quicker you gave her what she wanted, the quicker it would be done.

Finally, her index finger slides higher, the tip of her nail just brushing against your clit slightly. Your thighs shake at the motion, wanting to clamp shut around her but never doing so in fear she would stop. A cry falls from your mouth in surprise as her finger finally reaches, circling your swollen nerve endings in a slow yet firm motion.

Your words stumble out clumsily, unable to string a full sentence together as Wanda practically purrs against your ear.

“Oh, you’re doing so well, baby.” She coos, before pressing open-mouthed kisses against your jaw, “So well for me… come here.”

Tipping your neck up, she dips forward, pressing her hot lips against your own. A choked note of dismay comes from you as Wanda forces your mouth open and shoves her tongue inside. The older woman dominates the clashing of tongues, making sure that you know your place.

You fail to notice Wanda pull your shorts and panties down from your hips until her fingers press against you harder, and you can’t help but grind against it with such aching desperation. She marvels over how pathetic you look… one minute begging for her to stop and now humping against her like a bitch in heat, swallowing her tongue down your throat.

Such a depraved mental image and yet it only feeds into her desire for you.

To claim you as hers, no matter if you wanted it or not.

Because she didn’t care.

She could feel herself getting wetter, as she met your grinding with her own thrusts, your ass pressing flush against her soaked panties.

The kiss eventually comes to an end, a few hungry strands of saliva briefly clinging to your lips, linking you together. Wanda gazes lovingly at the sight of you, a growing smile on her lips, as you writhe in building pleasure.

“Can you look at me, princess?”

Wanda asks in a sultry tone and you struggle to open your eyes, squinting against the light as her blurry face comes into focus. Her pupils are blown out, partly consuming those emerald irises, her cheeks painted a flushed pink, and her lips part as she pants freely.

She looks so beautiful.

Her green eyes shine clouded over in a different colour than Natasha’s…

Natasha.

Dread seeps into your bones, your body ripped from its relaxed trance as you recall your best friend and how she’s sleeping upstairs as you’re fucked by her mom.

You don’t want to think about how upset she would be to find you like this.

“Baby…” She reels your mind back to focus on her, noticing you’re beginning to spiral. “You ready to come for me?”

Her fingers speed up perfectly but you shook your head in defiance, your mind no longer free to just enjoy Wanda’s touch.

“No,” she coos, “you don’t want to come for me, baby? Don’t want to come for Mommy?”

A whiny no leaves your lips, not giving in to the beautiful temptress behind you.

Annoyed, Wanda rolls her eyes, clearly upset that you wouldn’t just give in to her and that you’re not nestled in that special little headspace anymore.

Without warning, she twists your thigh over the other, ass on show as she lashes out with a sharp slap. You cry out at the unexpected blow, your hands grabbing tightly onto whatever part of the woman you can reach. You weren’t sure if you were trying to push her away or pull her close.

“I thought we were done with that, baby.” She unleashes a few more spanks, “Thought you were going to be my good girl, hm?”

You gasp for air at the same time Wanda gropes your marked flesh, pulling your cheeks apart as she rubs in soothing circles. The breath turns into a choked moan as Wanda spanks you one more time, before returning you to your original position, back to pressing firm circles against your clit.

Once again, you fight her touch. Hips wiggling in each direction until ankles wrap around your legs, locking you in place.

Tight circles turn to quick taps, the once pleasing hand now bringing pain upon your pussy in rapid succession, not allowing you to writhe in her generosity for too long before returning to cruelty.

A beautiful blend that muddled all of your defying thoughts until there was nothing left.

Your body betrayed your mind. Your legs fell completely limp, as you lay at the mercy of the older woman. Taking whatever she deemed necessary to give.

Finally, she had you.

“I don’t care if you don’t want to. You’re going to cum all over my fingers for me.” She concludes with a kiss on your cheek.

And not caring if you cry loud enough to wake up the rest of the house, her fingers speed up for the last time, sending you headfirst over the edge.

…

After what felt like hours, Wanda was done with you. You had moved into her bedroom, deciding the sofa was not adequate to continue. Now her head rests against your stomach after she had spread you open to lap up your next orgasm.

Your body spasms randomly, wave after wave of aftershock rolling over you. A warm hand cups your core firmly, and you buck away from the sensitivity, not wanting her touch anymore. But her fingers remain, gliding slowly up and down your slit, marvelling at your swollen skin, before pushing against your entrance.

You’re overwhelmed. What little fight you have left mentally can’t keep up with the fatigue of your exhausted body. If she wanted to, she could have her way with you. Again and again. Fresh tears fall from your eyes as you sob inconsolably into hands covering your face.

Wanda leaves you be, moving up your body to grab onto your wrists.

“Hey, baby… it’s okay, you’re okay…” she coos, fingertips wiping away your tears, “Mommy went too hard on you, didn’t she?”

You struggle to find the words, and Wanda shushes you, stopping you from thinking too much in such a delicate headspace.

You feel movement, feel Wanda get off you, and your eyes snap open in a slight panic but she sits beside you and swiftly draws you onto her lap.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. Don’t cry.” She says gently, reeling you in with false empathy. She was glad she pushed you too hard you broke.

“Mommy couldn’t help herself.”

You scoot closer, close enough to bury your head into her neck as fingers trail up and down your back.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you, baby. Can you forgive me?”

Her soothing words are music to your ears as you whimper softly against the woman, not willing to talk or move away. You just want her to hold you.

“Say it, princess. Say you forgive me.”

She guides you out of her neck to look at her.

“I forgive you.” You choke out, upset you’re no longer buried in her chest, as your hands run back to cover your eyes. Too ashamed to even look at her.

“Sweet girl, come here.” Wanda doesn’t wait, moving your hands to wrap around her neck as she kisses you hungrily, swallowing any little disapprovals as you push languidly against her chest, trying to force her mouth off of you.

It’s fine, it’s fine,” she ushers against your swollen lips, “I just want to make you feel better.”

You whine in disapproval but your arms wrap tighter around her.

“You love me, don’t you?” She whispers against your cheek, but doesn’t let you reply, as you choke on her tongue, stroking deep against yours.

“Say you love me, baby.” She moves to kiss your forehead, before moving down against your collarbone.

Hands groping your ass as she rocks you steady against her thigh.

“I love you,” a few tears burn down your throat as you hiccup,” I love you, I love you.”

Wanda mumbles her gratitude into your skin, fresh marks blooming against your chest as she fucks you against her.

“Keep saying you love me, baby.”

“I love you, I love you, I love you…” flies from your mouth in quick succession, your mind once again empty as the tell tale signs of another orgasm come into view.

“I love you too, princess.” She returns to your lips, tongue prodding past them as she coaxes your tongue into her mouth.

“Come on. Be good for me.”

It slams into you, body tense as you fall over the edge, pressing your face deep into her neck. She shushes you, not letting go of your body until the convulsions stop, and even then, you’re curled into her chest. Unwilling to part from her.

She allows you to sob freely, your body shaking uncontrollably as hands stroke all over until you calm down. Almost asleep in her arms.

A hand runs through your damp hair, “That’s it, baby. We’re done.”

“No more.” You mumble out, eyes already shut as exhaustion washes over.

“No more, baby. Go to sleep.” Wanda shifts you down her body, your face now against her chest, as she covers you both with her duvet.

Unable to resist any longer, you drift off in Wanda’s warm embrace.

[godzexperiment]

I've kinda been following this blog from afar and Nix seems so chaotic lol. I love it. I'm a bit shy/nervous to attempt to interact though, especially because I'm a (dead) fandom and human blog. I think I'll just keep watching from afar, keep it up xD

Omg, obviously no pressure first off- like watch from afar if you want/feel free to like utilize anon for silly things when you want to if you do. Nothing wrong with that; mad respect for this sweet little send in especially since I know sending even this can be rough depending on the shyness,etc. (social anxiety in me typically has me making silly faces at the screen whenever I do anything.... finger guns can't save me but they can make me scream internally less when i hit up cool, lovely people) And yes Nix is super, duper chaotic it's sure not an personality he picked but it sure suits him (precious little chaotic disaster) lol. Also- I totally get that; ironically an vast reason I made Nix an whole main blog. Cuz I wanted to work on my rp social anxiety/maybe try cultivate some of the good old antics and vibing. Like sometimes the best fun in rp is just antics? I wanted to just have fun and love my silly passion project oc that's like years of love. So I will say- I am super adaptive; like (dead) fandom/human really doesn't seem much an issue on my end if that helps ease some shyness,etc. Bit of an soft spot even tbh since I've been in that spot plenty. But literally no rush, watch from afar just saying this to let you know I'm thankful for this message and that. If you do interact I would be stoked; in any capacity and just as !!!! I was reading this ask. <3

[ohsc]

₊˚⊹♡ letting you | sam winchester x reader

a/n - this might be the fastest i’ve ever written a fic??? it’s pure filth so that might be why but LMAO, i love love love the idea of soft dom sam sm he melts my brain, hopefully this is good!! getting back into writing after taking a break from being sick bc my brain wouldn’t work. special thanks to my friend who helped me brainstorm the delicious idea ilysm !! <3

cws - fem!reader, 1.6k, nsfw 18+, softdom!sam, sub!reader, cockwarming, masturbation, praise, kinda unedited

other fics can be found on my masterlist

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

The only thing she could hear was Sam’s soft breathing, and the soft tap tap tap of his laptop keys behind her.

If she paid close enough attention, she could hear the way his shirt rustled when he moved his arms, the soft fluttering of book pages being turned, but her focus wasn’t really attainable, it was slipping through her fingers with each excruciating moment that she was sat there.

Sam shifted in his seat out of a pure intention to get comfortable, and his cock nudged deeper inside of her wet heat, dragged a soft gasp from her lips, which just earned her a soft “shh, honey” against the shell of her ear.

It had been her fault that she was in that position in the first place. She’d been a little too needy with Sam when he was trying to research, and on her third attempt at trying to initiate a — much needed, mind you — make out, he’d grabbed her hips and tugged her into his lap facing him. His voice had been a little stern as he told her to pull his cock out, and the tone of his voice alone had her cunt clenching around nothing as she quickly did as she’d been asked. She knew that voice, she’d had it in her ear most nights, whispered against her throat, against the plush of her thighs. It meant he was in control.

Sam had sat back from the library's table for enough time for her to pull his cock out and pull aside her panties, sank down onto him with a soft moan, but before she could move he grabbed her hips tightly, kept her still.

“Don’t move,” he’d dipped his head down and kissed her throat, pulse fluttering beneath his lips. “Stay there while I finish up and I’ll take care of you after, hm?”

If she was feeling a bit more bratty she would’ve whined or complained or just moved anyways, but his voice in her ear and his hands on her hips had her head spinning, so she just nodded and tucked her head against his throat as he leaned over her to continue what he was doing, completely focused, as if he wasn’t buried deep inside her pussy at that moment.

That had been twenty minutes ago.

It was becoming torturous.

Sam was unfairly skilled at keeping composed. He was also unfairly skilled at winding her up. Those two went hand in hand, it seemed, because each second that passed just worked her up more and more. All she could focus on was the warmth of his body pressed to hers, his cock nestled deep inside of her, the lack of stimulation. When she’d came out to the library with her attempt at bothering him, she’d craved a genuine release, not this.

Her hips shifted slightly and she squeezed her eyes shut, huffed out a soft “Sammy” against his throat when that slight movement was enough for her pussy to throb around him.

“Stay still.” He murmured without as much of a look in her direction. She glanced up at him and his eyes were locked forwards, pupils shifting left to right as he read whatever was displayed on his laptop screen. Tap tap tap, more pages turned, more reading, rinse, repeat. He was killing her.

Barely a minute had passed before she made another soft sound against the warm skin of his throat, lips brushing his neck, “Baby please-”

“My hands are busy, sweetheart,” his voice was so nonchalant it drove her up the wall. “I don’t know what you want me to do.”

Her eyes squeezed shut as she huffed against his throat again. “Can you just take a break?”

“No,” he shook his head. “No, I’m almost done, you’ll just have to wait,” he tsked, a hand briefly pet her hair, the touch so light it was like he was purposely depriving her of any stimulation. “If you’re that needy, you have two hands of your own, baby. Sort yourself out until I’m finished with this.”

She released a shuddered breath against his throat, squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. It wasn’t the answer she’d wanted.

“Hey,” one of his hands came up to the side of her neck and he pressed his thumb against her jaw, tilted her head back until he could meet her eyes. “I told you I’d sort you out once I finished, didn’t I?”

She nodded, bit the inside of her cheek.

“So isn’t it nice of me that I’m letting you get yourself off in the meantime?”

Letting you. Her cunt throbbed again.

“Yeah.” She whispered.

Sam leaned down and kissed her, just a soft little peck, and somehow it just riled her up more. “I’ll be done soon. Go ahead and sort yourself out for me, sweetheart.”

He let go of her jaw and moved his arms to the table again, continued tapping at his laptop, and her eyes scrunched closed again as she tipped forward and rested her forehead against his throat. But she was so needy that she didn’t think twice about following his instructions. One hand stayed tucked at his waist, fingers curled into the soft material of his flannel, and her other reached between them and tucked under the material of her shirt, fingering at the waistband of her panties until she slipped beneath those too, and she was so fucking wet that she was undoubtedly making a mess of his jeans from just sitting there.

Her fingers dipped down, pressed against her clit, and she shuddered as the stimulation made her clench around his cock deliciously. She pressed her fingers forwards again, started to shamelessly rub herself, exhaled soft little moans and sighs against his throat.

Before she could do anything else Sam’s voice was in her ear again, “Quiet, sweetheart. You’re meant to be letting me work, don’t make me tell you to stop.”

Her jaw clenched as she exhaled shakily, eyes squeezed shut, and she huffed a breath against his throat as she took a moment to compose herself. Now that she’d started touching herself, it’d just be a torture to stop, so she just nodded against his throat with the intent to keep herself quiet.

It took a moment for her to settle on a pace. She was a bit too needy with it, her hand squished between their bodies, knuckles pressed to his hard muscles each time she shifted her hand, but eventually she settled into a pace that had her eyes rolled back and squeezed shut, the fingers of her other hand curled tightly into the material of his flannel.

She circled her clit with the pads of her fingers again and again, but it was the feeling inside of her every time her cunt clenched around his cock that made it hard for her to keep quiet. She was half tempted to bite down on his collar to shut herself up, but Sam seemed to be letting her get away with the slight gasps and whimpers that she couldn’t stop herself letting up.

It took an embarrassingly short time for her to get close — her forehead was pressed to his throat, hot breaths puffed out against his skin, trying not to shift her hips as she rubbed at her clit with a need that thrummed within her veins. Her jaw clenched and she held her breath, eyes squeezed shut tighter as she worked herself closer.

“Breathe,” Sam’s breath tickled her ear as he spoke softly. She had a tendency to hold her breath when she came sometimes if she was especially worked up — she didn’t even know Sam was paying attention. She took a shuddery breath, and he murmured a soft, “that’s it.”

It only took a few more circles on her clit before she came and she grit her teeth, huffed out a sharp breath through her nose as the feeling washed over her. Her cunt pulsed in pleasure, waves that kept her rubbing at her clit until it felt too much, and when she finally stopped she was breathing sharply against his neck. Her hand was a bit cramped, fingers wet, heartbeat drumming, but the release felt so nice after she’d been so worked up.

“Good girl,” Sam crooned, and she could’ve cum again at the tone of his voice. “Good girl. Did that help?”

She nodded against his throat, relaxed into his front.

“Yeah?” He asked. “Are you gonna keep still until I’m finished now?”

She nodded again.

“Baby,” she felt his hand smooth up her back until his fingers delicately tangled in her hair, only enough to pull her head back to look at him. “I wanna hear you say it.”

She blinked a few times up at him. He was so devastatingly handsome, it wasn’t fair. “I’ll keep still,” she mumbled, face feeling far too hot. “Promise.”

“Oh, you promise?” She didn’t miss the teasing edge to his words, the smirk that tugged at the corners of his mouth.

She nodded again. “Yeah, Sammy.”

“Good girl,” he praised once more, and was nice enough to give her a proper kiss that time. It still wasn’t what she craved — she didn’t feel his tongue in her mouth, he didn’t kiss her until she went dizzy — but it was nicer and kinder than a little peck. “Ten minutes and I’m all yours.”

She settled back into his chest as he went back to work, comfy to just rest against him in her post-orgasm euphoria, happy to wait the ten minutes until he was finished. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d fucked her on the library table that week.

[hoshifighting]

this is sooo random because i had this thought while taking a shower but could you do seventeen’s reaction thinking the reader is getting on their knees, about to suck their dick but the reader is actually trying to to tie their shoes LMAO

(anyways have a great day/night and stay healthy 💝)

Seventeen reaction thinking the you are getting on their knees, about to suck their dick but you are actually trying to to tie their shoes

WARNINGS: mentions of oral sex (m. receiving)

seungcheol's sitting on the couch, his thick thighs spread lazily as he leans back, a smirk playing on his lips. when you kneel down in front of him, his smile widens, and he bites his lower lip, his head falling back. he’s clearly expecting something else, and as you start to tie his shoelaces, he gets a bit confused. "what are you doing?" he asks, confusion in his eyes. you glance up, when you notice his expectation your head suddenly switch gears, unzipping his pants. his breath hitches as you take him into your mouth, and his head falls back again, a low groan escaping his lips. "hmm, yes!" he moans between a smile.

jeonghan - you're in the elevator heading up to soonyoung's apartment. as you kneel down, jeonghan's eyes darken. "damn baby, right here?" he murmurs, his hands already working on the button of his jeans. but then you lower further, your fingers fumbling with his timberlands. you glance up, confusion in your eyes, then realization hits. "jeonghan!" you exclaim, laughing. he chuckles, shaking his head. "sorry, couldn't help it." without missing a beat, you undo his jeans and take him into your mouth. his hand rests on the back of your head, guiding you gently until you stop by soonyoung's floor "that's it, just like that."

joshua closes his eyes as he sees you lowering, his shoulders tensing. he waits, but noticing the ‘long time,’ he peeks with one eye and sees you focusing on the sudden bulge inside his pants. his cheeks turn a deep red. you feel a pang of sympathy, but you can't resist teasing him as you reach for his belt. "stop," he manages to say, his voice embarrassed. you grin, unzipping him and taking him into your warm mouth. his hand grips the door frame edge, knuckles white.

junhui sighs, brushing his hair back, a look of anticipation on his face. but when you're level with his shoes, he looks down, confused and blushing. "what happened?" you ask, noticing his red face. "n-nothing," he stammers, clearly flustered. you decide to surprise him, lowering his shorts and taking him into your mouth. his eyes widen, and he lets out a low moan, his hands tangling in your hair.

hoshi - you're both leaving the house when you stop at the front door to tie his shoes. suddenly, his pants fall around his ankles, his hand already in his boxers. you look up, stunned. "soonyoung, what the fuck?" his eyes widen as he fumbles to pull his pants back up, and you burst into uncontrollable laughter. "i thought—" he starts, but he’s laughing too now. you pull his boxers down and take him into your mouth. his laughter turns into a groan, his hand gripping your shoulder. "shit, y/n…"

wonwoo as you kneel down, wonwoo lets out an expectant moan, clearly thinking something else. you look up, knowing exactly what that meant, and tease him. "wonwoo, were you expecting something else?" he covers his mouth in embarrassment. "this is the most embarrassing thing ever," he mutters, but there's a small smile on his lips. you grin, giving a weak bite on his cock through his jeans his hand clutches on your hair, a desperate moan filling the room.

woozi after spending the whole day in his studio, you notice his loose shoelaces, he's so use about using flip-flops that he forgot to tie it. you kneel to tie them, and he says, "no baby, i need to take a bath—." you tilt your head up at him, finishing the tie. his eyes widen and his face turns bright red. "oh… thanks," he mumbles, clearly flustered. you smile, unzipping his pants and giving him a handjob. his hands grip the desk behind him, his breath hitching, as shy moans leaves his lips

minghao's eyes widen as you kneel in front of him, a glint of excitement quickly followed by a sigh of relief—and maybe a little bit of disappointment—when your fingers start tying his shoelaces. smiling sheepishly. "thanks..." he trails off. you decide to give him what he wants, tying your hair and taking him into your mouth. his hand rests gently on your cheek, his eyes closing in pleasure, as his abs contract.

mingyu hips twitch in your direction as you kneel, his eyes widening slightly. "sorry," he murmurs, a hint of embarrassment coloring his cheeks. you giggle, finishing tying his laces before glancing up at him. "what's got you so worked up?" you tease, your hand sliding up to grab his erection through his sweatpants. his cock twitches in your hand, and he groans. "everything you do makes me worked up."

seokmin is sitting on the edge of the bed, watching you with a curious expression. "what are you up to?" he asks as you kneel in front of him. you start tying his shoelaces, and he looks a bit confused, then chuckles. "oh, okay." "what do you want, seokmin?" you ask, your voice teasing, hand running up his thighs now. his biggest smile spreads across his face as he realizes what you're about to do. "you know what i want," he says, shyly before spread his legs.

seungkwan when you kneel in front of him, he immediately makes a joke. "wow, giving me head already?" he laughs, but his laughter quickly fades as you unbuckle his pants. "wait, you're actually doing it?" he asks, surprise in his voice. you smile, taking him into your mouth. his hands grip the armrests of the chair he's sitting on, a whiny groan escaping his lips.

vernon as you lower yourself down, vernon can't help but imagine it, especially with the perfect view of your tits from this angle. he's fighting his mind, wondering if he should ask you for it. but when he feels himself getting hard already, he finally gives in. "baby, since you're already down there, could you give me a little help?" he asks shyly, glancing at the bulge growing in his pants.

chan watches you tie his shoelaces. you thought about it, he thought about it. your hands slide up his calves and thighs, brushing against his ass and slipping inside his shirt, he trembles slightly, his breath hitching. "don't tease me," "oh, but teasing you is half the fun," you say, "when you're begging for it, that's when i give you exactly what you want." a moan escapes his lips at your bold words, you smile, deciding not to tease him any longer. your hands move to unbutton his pants, pulling them down along with his boxers. you take him into your mouth, your tongue swirling around his tip before taking him deeper. ''well, I didn't even had to beg for that,'' you scold him with your eyes. "okay, okay, i'm going to be quiet." he pants.

[tusk-rumours]

walking funny ‧͙⁺* — sam winchester x reader

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─

word count: 4.1k

summary: sam helps you when you're a little incapacitated after last night.

warnings: nsfw, 18+!! a shortish bit of smut (p in v, overstimulation, bondage, tears), mentions of oral (fem!receiving). the whole thing is a mention of sex basically. but mainly aftercare & fluff.

idk what to label this bc it is gn but there's a very brief bit of the reader being referred to as a lady/woman. so it's just x reader

a/n: i hope this is accurate because. can't say i've had this happen to me. ahaha. yeah. enjoy! this was also not meant to be this long lmao

acknowledgement to my saint @mxilkyways for the assistance. love u sexy, thanks for discussing sex positions with me lmao

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─

It was safe to say that Sam had fucked you silly last night. Over, and over, and over again. He's had this effect on you numerous times now, after you get rough with each other for hours. Or when only he'd get rough and dominate you, tying you up and pushing you through the mattress like he did last night. But the feeling of embarrassment of being incapacitated from how hard Sam fucked you never eased.

You lay on your back, waking up way earlier than you intended. 7:32AM. Of course. You turn your head to look at Sam right next to you. He's sleeping peacefully, his face completely relaxed, his hair a little messy against his forehead and the pillow. You'd lift your hands and fix it up if you didn't want to risk waking him. He's such a light sleeper. He's on his side and pressed so close to you that his warm breath ruffles your hair a little, and you wonder how you're gonna successfully untangle yourself from his heavy limbs that are slung over you so firmly.

You manage the task with only a couple hums and unconscious movements from Sam, swinging your legs over the edge of the bed, holding back a hiss at the pain. You stood up on shaky legs, almost doubling over if not for the wall right by the bed.

God. He really did a number on you.

It started to hit you full force as you stood, putting your weight on your jelly legs. Your legs and back ached, continuous dull pains throbbing underneath your skin. The worst of it was the uncomfortable pain between your legs, the pain there spiking with every time you agitated the area with a hobble towards the bathroom. You felt borderline bruised. Hell, you were.

You let out a sigh of relief once you make it to the bathroom, closing the door behind you and sinking to the floor, back against the door. You closed your eyes for a moment, before finally getting a good look at yourself.

Sam left harsh red marks from where he gripped you, from the plush of your thighs to your wrists. What he did to you last night was painted all over you, the meaning behind his art so clear it took no intellect to decipher it.

A crowd of hickeys covered your ribs, the softness of your stomach, down to the bones of your hips. Sam had an obsession with taking his time paying attention to every inch of your skin from your forehead downwards when he ate you out, drawing out the process as long as possible.

He mottled the soft and sensitive skin of your inner thighs with dark hickeys too, each mark a reminder of how you writhed and whined more with each nip and suck, of how the arousal you felt that was so close to his mouth getting more unbearable until he did it. Pressing his sweet lips and tongue against you so perfectly in all the ways he knew had you squirming, both of you just so unbelievably wet with your arousal.

You brush your fingertips over them now, your breath hitching a little at the sight. When you fumble for the hand mirror on the counter by the sink you're not prepared for the state of your chest and neck. They're so dark, and there's so many, and there's no fucking way you can cover these up.

"Fuck.." You whisper, wincing as you prod at the marks with your hand.

You didn't even want to attempt any whisk or concealer remedies, because nothing could quick-fix this kind of damage. You huffed, tipping your head back on the door. You would've gotten up if your legs felt capable, but of course, they didn't. So you sat, the bathroom air cold against your bare body. As much as you would've loved it, you knew you couldn't just flop onto the bathroom tile, and wait for Sam to try and open the door, only to be stopped by your body sprawled out like a doorstop.

It takes you an honestly embarrassingly long time to stand. You've gotten back up on your feet quicker on a hunt than this. You decide to blame it on the sleepiness, because yeah, that's exactly what it is.

When you step back into the bedroom, you let out a little disbelieving huff, pausing in the doorway for a moment. Sam hasn't moved.

Jesus, how the hell is he sleeping so well?

He always gets the best sleep after sex, no matter what kind it is. But you? You love when it's rough, truly. But you never get much sleep afterwards. At least when he fucks you gentle you're in for the best sleep of your life after.

Grumbling under your breath, you hobble to the dresser, pains shooting through you. You had a long day ahead of you, you knew that. You manage to dress yourself in one of Sam's flannels and some loose shorts, only almost tripping over once. You consider getting back in bed with Sam, who's still fast asleep (the lucky bastard), with his hands clutching your pillow. But the uncomfortable grumble of your stomach says otherwise. You know you'll start feeling sick soon if you don't eat.

Praying no one else is up yet, you creep out of the bedroom, shutting the door silently on your sleeping Sam. You knew you wouldn't be able to get by without at least someone noticing your discomfort, no matter how hard you tried to hide it. You were cringing at just the thought of Dean's reaction to what his brother did to you. You really didn't need him seeing that. So far the coast was clear as you moved through the halls. Even alone, it felt ridiculous to hobble. So you tried walking normally.

You just hoped your funny normal walk didn’t look as stupid as it felt.

You walked (or limped) into the kitchen, trying your hardest to walk normally, which probably made you look even more ridiculous. No one was here, thank god.

You fixed yourself a bowl of cereal, waddling like an idiot to the table, sitting down gingerly, a hiss slipping between your teeth as you do so. You focus on your breakfast, grimacing a little.

Why the hell did you make this? You've been getting so sick of cereal recently. The flakes are already soggy now as you move them around the bowl with the spoon. You groan, grimacing more once you take a spoonful. Eventually you just abandon it, half-eaten, sliding it away from you.

This wooden chair is doing absolutely no favours for your aching body, the splats on the backrest digging into your spine, the seat offering no support to your sore ass. You shift your legs uncomfortably, hissing a little at the intolerable pain between them, before you practically jump into the air in your seat when you suddenly see Sams massive body in your peripheral.

He stands in the doorway, his boxers he must've just slipped on sitting on his hips, his hair messy, smiling at your jump, and fuck, he always looks so good like this.

"There you are. You weren't in bed this morning." He says, far too cheerfully for your liking as you watch him come over, wrapping his arms around your shoulders, pressing a kiss to your cheek, then squishing it up to his.

"Cereal. Why'd you make that? You've been complaining about the sogginess for like a week now." He says softly, his eyes on the bowl sitting in the middle of the table.

You don't even have an answer to that, just pouting a little.

"I'll make you an actually decent breakfast in a bit, hm? How's that sound?"

"Good" You murmur, a little smile on your lips now.

After a moment of his comfortable embrace, he pulls away, taking you in. He can see the marks on your skin you couldn't hide, the slouchiness in your posture and the tiredness in your eyes.

In this moment, you hated him. You looked a mess. You were bruised and hobbling, set to be uncomfortable for the next couple days. But Sam, he looked fine. Not a single hickey or red mark on his skin. He could do a whole dance routine for you with how able his body is if he wasn't so terrible at it.

And worst of all, he liked it. That smirk of his told you that. And you wanted to slap it right off his pretty face.

But you knew you'd just look like an idiot trying to fight him in your state. So, you go for the next best thing. His comfort. You stand on shaky legs, using the arms of the chair to help you, then immediately turn into his chest. A small coo escapes Sam's lips as one of his hands moves to your hair, scratching your head slowly.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" He asks gently. He knows full well what's wrong with you. He knows, but you're still embarrassed to say it. You're always embarrassed to say it.

"I'm just a little— sore, from last night.." You mumble, dipping your head down, your eyes now very interested in the patterns of the tile floor.

"Oh, baby.." He responds, moving closer, his massive hands coming up to rest on your shoulders for a moment, before one catches your chin, lifting your head.

"Honey, why didn't you say? I always wanna know when I've hurt my baby." He says gently, his eyes as soft as his voice.

"It's a little embarrassing waddling around like a damn penguin because you fucked me good. And a little pathetic."

"Honey," He cracks a smile now with a soft chuckle, shaking his head fondly.

“You don’t—… look like a penguin.” He says, trying his hardest to suppress the quirks at the corners of his lips, however, the mirth in his eyes gives away his amusement anyway.

“Well I look like an old woman then.”

“Baby, you don’t—" He shuts up and purses his lips when he sees your face, stubborn as ever.

"Fine. You're an old lady penguin. Is there anything I can do for this geriatric penguin to ease the pain? You know I'm all for animal welfare."

You scoff, looking at his amused grin in disbelief, the lines in your forehead deep with your scowl.

"You're ridiculous."

"You're the one claiming to be a penguin. Now, tell me. What can I do?" He says, dipping his head a little to look into your eyes as he steps closer, taking your hand gently in his.

You soften, your face relaxing as you lean into him a bit. You think for a moment as you study your intertwined hands, rolling your wrists around a little.

You've always loved his massages.

"A massage? And not having to move would be nice."

He smiles, squeezing your hand gently.

"You got it."

You turn around, heading for your bedroom, before realising you're about to show Sam how stupidly you've been walking, no matter how much you try to hide it.

Like he's read your mind, you hear his laughter from behind you. Then he's scooping you up into his arms bridal style, holding you to his chest firmly. Despite the embarrassment of him having to carry you and the grumble that leaves your lips, you settle snugly into him, feeling his smile on your forehead.

Instead of your bedroom, he kicks open the bathroom door just a little down the hall from it, making sure you don't hit the wall or the door as he steps in. He kicks the door shut, surveying for a place to put you down, before he just sets you back on your feet.

His hands grab the hem of your shirt, his brows raised in question. Once you nod he pulls it off you, his eyes widening.

"Fuck." He says simply, his eyes glued to the barrage of hickeys and marks all over you.

"Yeah." You reply knowingly, watching his expression.

"Shit baby, I know I was rough as hell but jesus, this is worse than I thought it'd be." He sounds genuinely apologetic as his fingertips brush along your skin.

"Yeah. I don't know if you fucked me or beat me up last night." You tease, starting to get a bit of your confidence in the situation back. This happens every time. You cant quite wrap your head around why you always get so shy in the beginning.

He laughs, his cheeks burning a bit, his thumbs rubbing your waist, along the red marks there.

"I think I know exactly what I did to you. And it definitely wasn't beating you up, baby." His mouth harbors a smirk, but his voice is as soft as ever. His fingertips are gentle as they brush against your hips, like a reminder that those hands of his would never lay harm on you, no matter how much they have done.

Because you didn't bother with a bra that morning, his hands slide down from your waist to your hips where the band of your shorts are, hooking his thumbs in and pulling them down gently. You step out of them once they're at your ankles, and when you look up at Sam you almost bust out laughing at his expression.

His eyes are close to bulging out of his head as they focus on your thighs, his mouth open dumbly. Yeah, he's marked you up plenty of times before, but its not often it's this much.

"Sam?" A blink.

"Sam!" You try again, a little firmer.

This time he blinks away his stare, moving to your face again.

"I— i'm sorry baby, I just— god"

"You did spend a lot of time down there."

That gets him smirking.

"I did." He rests a hand on your hip again, watching his thumb as he thinks.

"God, you must be so sore," He breathes, his brows furrowed.

You say nothing in response, because you can't really tell him 'no, not really' because in all honesty, you're really fucking sore. And you're not about to lie to him.

You're both quiet for a moment before he pulls away a little sullenly. He turns the tap for the bath on, waiting for it to get warm then puts the plug in. You watch his back, a frown pulling at your lips. You don't want him to be upset about last night and feel guilty for how it went. You don't regret a thing, and you don't want him to either.

"Sam," You murmur, coming up close behind him, rising on your toes, and resting your chin on his shoulder. He clears his throat a little, turning his head to face you slightly.

"Stop thinking," Is all you murmur, kissing his cheek softly. He sighs at the soft touch of your lips. "And don't you dare feel guilty. You've got a serious talent with your mouth, baby." You tease, trying to get him to smile. He does, a blush creeping up on his cheeks, making your smile wider.

"Okay." He whispers, turning to face you.

"I'll put that lavender stuff you like in there, yeah?" He asks, his thumbs brushing your waist. He's got that puppy dog look on his face as he dips his head to look at you better, and the way he's so soft has you responding with just a tiny nod.

You watch while he puts in all your favourite oils and soaps, the room smelling sweet and lovely, suds foaming up the water. He even lights a few of the candles you put beside the tub when you guys settled in, wanting to make this as relaxing for you as possible. Your breath catches in your throat as you watch him, doing all this for you. It's all so goddamn sweet.

As the tub fills, you turn off the main light, casting the room in a warm glow from the candles. Even just the dimness of the room has you more relaxed already.

In small steps that don't agitate your body, you walk back over to where Sam's bent over the bath, testing the water. He'll put the temperature scorching hot just how you like it, even if he has to bite his lip to contain hisses. He'd prefer it warm, not like he's submerging himself in a vat of hot oil. But, if it's how you like it, then that's how it'll be.

He turns back to face you, hooking his thumbs into your panties with raised eyebrows. You nod, and he pulls them down, letting you hold onto his shoulder as you step out of them. The loss of the last piece of fabric reveals a few more love bites, completing the path they all led to your core.

"Are you coming in with me?" You murmur, your chin dipped low as you watch him move your clothes to the hamper.

He turns his head to you briefly with a quick smile. "'course," He's already hooking his thumbs underneath the waistband of his boxers.

He hesitates before pulling them down, his gaze softer when he looks at you again. "Do you want me to?" He's worried he's gotten ahead of himself.

"Of course I do," You reply earnestly. It's so Sam to ask that when you've been together for years.

He smiles, the tension in his body relaxing as his hands move back to his boxers. Although you're very familiar with watching him strip, the softness in your demeanour doesn't change. In other words, you were all fucked out. For a good while.

He hesitates again, his boxers still on, God, was he trying to tease you? It's not like you were needy or anything, no, but you always want to see him.

"Alright, sweetheart, c'mere. Let's get you in." With one hand encompassing yours and the other steady on your waist, he keeps you balanced as you step in.

"Careful, baby," He murmurs as he helps you lower down into the hot water, internally scared out of his mind that you're gonna slip. Only once you're entirely settled does he finally pull off his boxers, stepping into the bath behind you. He settles his legs out so you're sitting between them, and lets out a sigh when he tugs you to his chest.

The water settles, reducing to soft noises as his fingers gently move up and down your forearm. He lets his eyes fall shut as he murmurs gently, his chin moving against your shoulder.

"You should've just stayed in bed, baby. Or if you wanted to get up you should've woken me."

You sigh. You knew something along these lines was coming.

"You barely sleep enough as it is. If I can get you to get at least five minutes more I will."

"Still. You know i'm here to help you. Whenever."

Silence falls between you, and you feel the tension in your muscles start to ease as you melt back against Sam's chest.

“Feel nice, baby? Water's good?"

You respond with a little hum, whispering; "Water's perfect,” with a teasing curl to your lips, digging at him just a little for his temperature preference.

He smiles back with an amused huff, burying his face into your shoulder blade as he starts pressing kisses to it, along each bruise, bite mark and hickey. He goes all the way up your neck, behind your ear. Your breathy sigh and the fluttering of your eyelashes don't go unnoticed by him.

He turns you gently in his arms so he has better access to your chest, pressing more gentle kisses to each mark on your neck and chest, his fingers tracing little hearts on the bruises he can't reach with his lips, like the ones on your stomach and hips.

His hands slide down to your thighs, rubbing along them, to the underside, and you can't help but think about the way that he—

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—hooks his hands underneath your knees, hoisting your legs up so your calves rest on either one of his shoulders. You're both so hot, your bodies slick with sweat from so much exertion, and you were already tired enough from riding him for so long, but neither of you are done yet. He decided to grant you some mercy once you were slowing down, bouncing you himself 'till you both came, then letting you onto your back again.

His presence is heavy and lustful over you, his fingers pushing back the hair that sticks to your forehead as his hand dips down to angle his hardened cock. Both of you and the sheets are a mess of each other, your thighs and outside of your pussy slick from his saliva and when he came there.

"Sammy, I don't—" You whine, your hands squirming against the belt where they're tied in against the bedpost, wanting to grasp onto any part of him you can reach.

"Shh, c'mon, baby, I know. Just one more, yeah? I know you've got it." He coos, coaxing you over with a little tease of his tip to your clit, triggering your eyes to roll back.

"Sammy, I wanna— hold you, please," You beg, desperate whines leaving your lips.

"Oh, baby," He says condescendingly, a devilish smirk playing on his reddened lips.

"I think your hands are just fine there. Look good wrapped around my belt, yeah? Or would you prefer it between your teeth?"

His thumb comes up to your bottom lip as he speaks, pushing against your parted lips teasingly. He swipes a bit of spit there down your chin, and with a grin, he pushes his cock into your already abused hole, yet still giving you that delicious stretch nonetheless.

He wastes no time in setting a bruising pace, a hand sliding up your arm and gripping the skin underneath the belt harshly as he thrusts in and out of you.

Tears begin to prick at your eyes from how relentless he's being, tucking your head to the side into your arm as the hot tears slide down your burning red cheeks. You sob, and Sam moves his other hand that dug into your knee to grip the side of your head.

"Aw, honey, can't take my cock anymore huh? Maybe I just gotta lower your dose," He teases. He knows if he was seriously hurting you or making you uncomfortable you'd tell him to stop, you both communicate and trust each other enough to know that.

His teasing words only make you moan even more, shaking your head rapidly.

"No, no! Sammy please—"

"My baby's so desperate, huh? I'll give you more, baby, c'mon,"

And then he's sliding his arm under your hips, lifting them at an angle and pounding into you deeper and so hard you cry harder, a mess of tears and sobs until you're shaking, your pussy fluttering hard as you feel him cu—

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"So, what're we thinking for breakfast? Chocolate chip pancakes?" You're quickly snapped out of your daze, your eyes blinking wider, uncrossing your legs that somehow moved during your daydream.

It takes you a minute to think about what he said. Chocolate chip pancakes. Right. He knows you love those. Especially the way he makes them. He puts so many choc chips in there, there's more chocolate than pancake.

"Did those special psychic powers of yours include reading minds?"

He laughs, his palm rubbing up and down your arm.

"No, I don't even have those anymore, silly. I just know how to read you, baby." He smiles, nuzzling his nose against your temple.

"I know," You smile, relishing in his touch.

He then sets on the task of scrubbing you down, rubbing into your muscles with your favourite soaps. His big hands are perfect, digging into all the right spots. But eventually, after sitting against each other in the tub for so long, the water begins to grow cold, and goosebumps begin to rise upon your flesh. Of course, Sam feels it too, and shifts slightly behind you.

"Alright, we should get out," He rubs up and down your arms a few more times as you nod.

He gets out of the bath first, standing up behind you. He stifles a laugh when the water drips off his body and falls onto yours, watching your shoulders hunch and a grumbly noise leave your lips.

"Sorry, baby" He smirks through his apology, his fingers lightly brushing your head as he steps out onto the bath mat.

He turns around, extending his hands to help you. Your limbs definitely aren't as stiff, but they're still wobbly when you move them after sitting for so long. You rise on shaky legs, putting your weight into Sam's hands as he leans close, making sure you don't fall.

Once you get your bearings, standing in the tub, he looks at you with a little smirk, and you know he's gonna say something stupid.

"Is it awful to tell you that you look like a newborn deer?"

You scowl.

"I'm never letting you fuck me again."

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