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doodle-pops · 2 years ago

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Playing Favourites Princess?

Glorfindel x reader | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 |

Request: One more thirstpost, if you’ll allow. Glorfindel x Reader x Ecthelion threesome. I bet they’d be very overwhelming. The soft dom experience.™️ - Anon

A/N: I decided to split the request into three parts since I had a whole grand ass idea for it so you're getting more smut that ever :)

Warnings: fembod, dom-sub dynamics, teasing, pet names (reader being called kitten), student-teacher dynamics, cunnilingus, fingering, semi-public grinding

Word: 2.8k

Synopsis: Being your teachers' favourite always has its benefit, especially when they were fighting for your attention.

Today was the day you were going to profess your attraction to your teachers. You’ve been studying under both Lord Glorfindel and Lord Ecthelion for months, learning how to fight and there wasn’t a moment that passed that made you believe that there was something more. From the gentle touches of their hands as they guide your movements with your sword or the way their hands would rest on your waist when correcting your position.

You could still feel their touch on your skin hours after they were finished instructing their soldiers. You were one of many they were instructed to train, and yet, you stuck out the most. They always gave you more of their attention and time; making you stay back extra hours to correct your form and strengthen your skills. You knew that both of them were doing something to you, but you still weren’t sure until the most recent training session two days ago.

Standing behind you with firm yet gentle hands on your hips, Glorfindel ordered you to remain after training privately, so you wouldn’t feel embarrassed before the entire gathering. Hands running along your body leaving a trail of goosebumps, you shivered under his touch. Noticing this, he didn’t hesitate to bring his body closer to you until he was standing just behind you.

You were able to feel the heat radiating off his God-like body and his slight bulge rubbing against your ass. Knowing that you were able to feel him, he still didn’t make any drastic moves to scare you just yet. Dragging his hands up your sides and shifting your hands until they were positioned before you, he kicked his foot out to widen your stance. It was then, you felt more of his bulge pressing into your ass.

Gasping at the feeling, you reduced your ragged breathing so he wouldn’t realize the effects he had on you. Unfortunately, Glorfindel was able to read your body like the back of his hands and knew you were trembling like a leaf. Lowering his head, he buried his face into your hair and inhaled your scent, releasing a soft moan. He wanted you to know that he was turned on.

“My Lord Glorfindel, a-are you a-alright?”

“I am. More than I’m supposed to be,” dipping his head lower so his lips ghosted the shell of your ear, you felt him place a kiss on the tip and then dragged his mouth to kiss behind your ear.

Closing your eyes and leaning your head to the side, you gave your Lord access to ravish your neck. Wasting no time, Glorfindel lips came down to kiss up and down your neck, tenderly. Giving you butterfly kisses as he went before stopping at the juncture of your neck. At this time, he winded his hands around your waist and pressed you into his chest. Groaning at the contact of your ass against his erection, he slowly ground his hips into your ass to gain some friction.

“Shit.”

Bringing his lips back to your neck, he sank his teeth into your skin, biting you nearly hard enough to draw blood. Swiping his tongue over the spot as you shrieked from the pain, he listened to your whimpers turn into mewls. Bringing your hands up behind you to run through his hair, Glorfindel moaned as he felt your fingers scrape his scalp.

“Your skin tastes divine kitten,” at the use of the pet name, you gasped. Never before would except the prestige Lord to use borderline derogatory names. But then again, you would have never expected your Lord to be engaging in such delightful activities in the open courtyard where any of his servants or friends or even the King could walk in.

Continuing to lavish your neck in kisses, he changed his technique and lowered his lips to your collarbones, pulling your shirt down your shoulder so his lips can have access. You licked your lips as he came in contact with your skin.

“Mmmh feels so good.”

“Does it?” ground his hips a little hard against yours as you praised him, a fresh flow of your juices running down to soil your underwear.

Grinding against each other like two unmannered folks, your moans began to increase as his hands shifted from your waist to cup your breast. Rubbing your nipples through the material and groping your breast, you felt your underwear becoming completely soaked. You could only hope that your pants were left unsoiled. Leaning your head back to rest against his shoulders, your new position gave him greater access to sliding your shirt off your shoulder. Somewhere between pleasure and reality, you felt the coldness of the late evening air hitting more of your skin across your chest; dangerously close to your breast. Opening your eyes to investigate, you saw from the corner of your eyes, Glorfindel’s mouth busy sucking a bunch of hickeys into your flesh.

“I could kiss you forever. Your skin tastes sweet…though I’m sure somewhere else may also be sweeter,” his lips left your flesh to whisper them upon your lips while staring deeply into your eyes. Gone were the jaded green and all that was left were forest green orbs staring into your soul.

“I would love to have a taste sometime, hmm?” lips hovering just above yours, his breath was the intoxicating scent of mint. Hands still on your breast, he was busy rubbing your nipples away, helping with the incessant pool forming in your panties. You could probably drown in your juices from the amount that you released.

Looking at you and waiting for an answer, his hips slowed their grinding to merely brush against your ass. His right hand that cupped your breast released it and trailed its way lower and lower until it danced along the waistband of your trousers. Still keeping eye contact, he raised his brows questioning whether to continue. Parting your lips to exhale, you swiped your tongue across your bottom and watched as Glorfindel inched his head closer to have a taste. Lips touching yours, yet they hadn’t collided, he paused for your much-awaited answer.

“Do I have your confirmation?” pulling on your trousers to drop the hint and the dire urge he had to taste you.

Freezing the world around you for a second to clear your mind and focus, you navigated your thoughts to comprehend his question. When you did, you bushed at the realization of where he wanted to be. A thought you never believed would exist in this reality or the next and one you weren’t going to pass on, you nodded your head.

“Verbal confirmation kitten,” voice ever so commanding and powerful, you could just drop your underwear for him.

“Yes, you can sir.”

That was all Glorfindel needed before he pulled you out of the courtyard and into one of the spare rooms nearby. Making quick work of your clothes, he pushed your trouser down your legs, almost tearing them in half in the process. So eager were his hands to yank the obtrusive material off and have his hands running across your skin. His hands were warm and calloused, and larger than yours. Running his fingers up your legs, his trailed over small cuts and scars you accumulated over time. Inching his hands nearer and nearer your heat, he paused to rest them on your hips as his lips kisses your skin.

“Rough, yet soft and delicate. A wonderful combination,” nipping at the skin on your thighs, you jumped at the tingling sensation.

“My lord, please,” flashing your best pleading eyes at him, and pouting, he had taken the bait. It was a cute sight to behold upon your face. Not wanting to tease you or himself any longer, his fingers griped your waistband and slowly dragged your underwear down your legs. Prying your legs apart, he hiked you up on the table and rested your legs on his shoulders while he remained on his knees. Kneeling between your legs and before you, this was the furthest you’d ever get to see your Lord appearing worshipful.

Groaning as his eyes flashed onto your heat and coated in your arousal, he could see the light formation of cream. His right hand came up to run his finger through your folds and you gasped at the contact and closed your eyes, biting your lips in the process.

“So fucking wet, and all for me.”

Inching his head closer until you felt his breath hovering over your heat, you peeked through one eye to watch him looking at you. Holding your breath as his lips parted and his tongue darted out to lick a bold stripe up your heat, you curled your toes. Your left hand shot out to entangle itself in his hair, scraping your nails across his scalp.

“Just as I imagined, sweeter than your skin,” and without a second thought, he widened your legs and dove right in.

Not bothering to build things up, Glorfindel when straight for the kill. Suctioning his lips on your clit, he vigorously sucked and tugged the little nub like his life depended on it and it did. All he wanted was to taste your sweet essence, for should he not, he swore he might die. Once he’s had a taste, he could never get enough.

Meanwhile, your thighs were busy crushing his skull while he was busy down below. Hands tightly gripping and tugging his hair strands, you were surprised at their durability of them. More so, you were shocked that he didn’t yelp out in pain, seems like someone had a thing for hair-pulling from all the moaning and grunting you were hearing. Music to your ears on any day.

“Ugh, Glorfindel your tongue feels so good.”

Humming in response, it took him a solid minute for his brain to register the name that escaped your sweet lips. Pulling his mouth off your clit, he replaced them with his fingers. Rubbing them against your clit, he ran them lower to meet your slit before cautiously inserting one finger. Watching your back arch as a sigh slipped past your lips, he inched the other one in slowly until both were scissoring your hole. Your walls were clenching around him like crazy and it made him wonder if you’d be able to take his cock so easily.

“Kitten, focus on me. That’s it, good girl. It seems like we have some training to do,” cocking your head to the side utterly confused by his statement, you thought that your training was over the moment he started rubbing his cock on your ass.

“Ngh—uh huh?”

“Good girl. Now, you still haven’t learned your place, so in order to teach you, I have a new strategy. Listening?”

Nodding your head as your eyes were threatening to close from the back and forth switching off his fingers on your heat. One was fingering you, while the other was rubbing your clit slowly. You were slowly losing your focus with every passing second and seeing was becoming blurry. The great urge to roll your eyes back was knocking on your door, but your teacher had something to instruct.

“Someone messed up earlier with knowing their place, so as your teacher, it’s my job to help put you in your place,” bending down to kiss your inner thighs, he chuckled as you jumped from the contact.

“Understood?” his other hand came up to rub your thighs soothingly as he spoke. Waiting for you to answer, his hands stopped rubbing to only raise it and bring it down on your leg. The slap made you choke on a sob as another came down on the same spot.

Peering up at you, your eyes were lined with tears as your lashes appeared starry, “I said, do you understand me kitten?”

“Uh huh, yes.”

Not pleased with your answer, his hands stopped their movements and pulled away from your heat completely. Whining at the loss of touch, you raised up to pull him back, only for a hand to grab yours and the other to wrap around your neck. Applying light pressure, just enough to get you to shut up, he stood tall between your legs. Lips hanging dangerously close to yours, his eyes flashed a glint of feral desire.

“Who am I kitten?”

“M-My teacher.”

“And how do you address me?”

Ah, you called him Glorfindel and not sir or my lord.

“Sir,” looking up at him, you saw how his eyes flashed to your lips, tempted to rest his upon yours to know if these lips were as sweet as the one below.

“Good, don’t forget it or else you don’t cum. This is a training session after all, and I don’t mind having to keep you here all day and night so long as you get it right.”

Gulping at his words, a fresh flow of juices gushed from your hole and spilled onto the table you sat on. You heat was exposed to the cold air and felt lonely without his touch. Wanting to beg him to touch you again, you were fearful of the rejection you may face after his little warning. So, simply not wishing to anger him into punishing you, you opted to reply simple.

“Yes sir.”

Pleased with your response, his hand trailed from your neck and down your cloth-covered chest until it cupped your heat. Chuckling darkly, Glorfindel didn’t hesitate to insert his same two fingers back into your hole and curled them to reach your sweet spot, “That’s it, that’s my kitten. Come on, let me hear you moan.”

Wiggling in his grasp, his hands were still holding onto yours so you couldn’t grip his hair like before. Whimpering your pleas, it sounded like music to his ears. Long has he wished to reduce you to nothing but a begging mess, calling out to him to relieve you, and here was his wish. The way his cock was straining in his pants as your moans reached his ear made him become more aggressive with his movements.

“Ah, sir. So good, your fingers feel so good in me.”

“That’s right, only I can make you feel like this.”

Releasing your hands, he dropped to his knees and planted his face directly in your heat. Slurping and sucking, the sounds were obscenely disgusting, but he couldn’t care, not when he had his tongue buried in your heat. He was getting the opportunity of a lifetime to dine on you. Dipping his tongue into your hole alongside his finger, he felt the way your walls contracted around his wet muscle. Wiggling to reach deeper inside as though he was attempting to reach your soul, you gripped the sides of the table until your knuckles turned white.

“Oh god, oh god—I’m so close, close.”

Pumping his fingering in and out while his tongue slipped out to plant hickeys on your clit, your eyes crossed at the euphoric pleasure. Where were you – definitely not here on Middle Earth? You were probably somewhere among the star and high above cloud nine. The expert roll of his tongue over your clit, slowly sucking with the little flicks sending you over the edge. Feeling the increasing clenching of your walls around his fingers, all Glorfindel needed to do was crook them upwards to brush against your sweet spot one last time and you came. Tumbling over and over again, your dams had burst and everywhere had flooded. Dwelling in pure ecstasy, you slumped your back against the walls and closed your eyes in utter bliss.

“Such a good little pet for me kitten,” his lifted his clean hand to stroke your hair and face, while his hand that was buried in you was brough to his mouth to be cleaned. Watching him through hazy eyes, you swallowed as he sucked on his two fingers clean and moaned.

“Can’t wait to taste you again. Now let’s get you dressed, shall we.”

Walking out of Lord Glorfindel’s estate, he strolled all the way past his gate and into the square, claiming that he wanted to ensure you made it out safely, not before bending to plant a fat kiss on your lips. Pulling away, you watched him smirk as he pushed you with gentle hands for you to make the short return home. It wasn’t until you walked past the grand fountain in the square to enter the lower division of the upper ring, you heard the clearing of a throat to your left and saw Lord Ecthelion watching you from his balcony with sharp eyes.

He saw the interaction between you and Glorfindel.

With a straight face, he lifted his hand and crooked his index finger to beckon you over into his estate.

Masterlist

Taglist: @spidergirla5 @lilmelily @eunoiaastralwings @noldorinpainter @ranhanabi777 @someoneinthestars @mysticmoomin @aconstructofamind @rain-on-my-umbrella @the-phantom-of-arda @starborne066 @singleteapot @hoshinokurasa

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burnwater13 · 1 year ago

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The Razor Crest had landed on a lot of different planets and in a lot of different ways. Sometimes it landed nice and soft and other times it crashed, uh, er, landed hard on an ice ball moon. But there was that time… on Trask… well, is it really a landing if you end up in the water, or is it more of a sinking?

Grogu wasn’t sure, but he was sure he wasn’t going to ask the Mandalorian about it. Din Djarin got really upset when things happened to his ship. Sure, you didn’t always know he was upset. He didn’t shout and yell and have temper tantrums. Nope, the Mandalorian was much more self-contained.

But Grogu had excellent hearing. No matter how softly his dad did it, Grogu could hear the Mandalorian’s teeth grinding. That’s how he yelled and scolded and grumbled about a thing that he couldn’t just blame on anyone else. And Grogu could tell how upset Din was based on the speed and quality of the grinding.

If he was just clenching his jaw there was one quiet click. If Din Djarin had clenched his jaw and then began to grind his teeth back and forth, back and forth, it meant that the Mandalorian had messed up to an amazing extent. If it was slow, deep grind sound it meant that Din had done the thing before and he was just resolved to deal with it and get through the problem. Later the other sounds would be repeated.

Grogu had heard enough of the grinding sounds to refine it further, but it tired him out to think of how hard his protector was on himself. No one was perfect and although the Mandalorian tried really hard to be perfect all the time, it was unrealistic. It just was.

Grogu had also learned that the Mandalorian was just as hard on himself when no one was present to witness the problem he’d been dealing with, as he was when Grogu was watching him like a ‘shriek hawk’. Again, the Mandalorian had no idea what sounds Grogu could hear and Grogu could hear them all.

Of course the funniest sound that Din made when he messed up was the ‘ouch, dank farrik, uff’ sound that happed after Din cut himself shaving and before the teeth grinding began. The second funniest sound was the sound his protector made when he sneezed inside his helmet but couldn’t clean it right away. First you got the sound of the sneeze. Then you got the sounds of the sniffling. Finally, you got he sound of him blowing his nose clear. The teeth grinding after that was always impressive.

Sometimes Grogu just brought the bounty hunter a tissue to use and then would go hide in the cabin until Din had a chance to fix everything. He had to wait for just the right moment to laugh. Too soon and Din still had the helmet on and could hear everything. Too late and Din had the helmet back on and he would ask Grogu what was so funny. Grogu never wanted to admit that the whole process was funny to him.

One time the Mandalorian found a small bucket and modified it so Grogu could run around wearing it. And then it happened. Grogu sneezed. But since the game was ‘play a Mandalorian’ Grogu didn’t just take the ‘helmet’ off. He did the whole ‘sniffle, snort, teeth grinding’ thing first, as he stomped around the room and then went into the privy and slammed the door and grumbled some more.

“I do not slam the door when I sneeze in my helmet.’ His dad groused at him.

It was cute that Din Djarin thought that was accurate.

Grogu just looked at his dad with his best innocent smile and Din shook his head and walked away, grinding his teeth. Grogu did everything he could not to laugh. It was harder to contain that he expected and found that grinding his own teeth helped.

Wait a minute! Was that would the Mandalorian had been doing all along? Trying not to laugh. No. That couldn’t be it. Would his dad really laugh when things went wrong? Who would do that?

Unless his dad was teasing him back because of the whole ‘play a Mandalorian’ game? Uff. Now Grogu was actually grinding his teeth, which honestly wasn’t as easy to do as it sounded because somethings can’t be contained.

#calendar prompt a day #the mandalorian #grogu #din djarin

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shoutogepi · 4 years ago

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S/O begging to be choked

with Todoroki Shouto, Bakugou Katsuki, & Shinsou Hitoshi

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 : ✘ 𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐰 (𝟏𝟖+)

𝐡𝐜 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 :

and i decided to add my other two boys ;)

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 : it’s been a hot min since i’ve tried headcanons... perhaps they’re all into it... perhaps this is indulging my choking kink *laughs nervously*

𝐭𝐨𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐢 ❄️

reluctant about it at first, but after seeing how much you love it, he finds he thoroughly enjoys it.

he’s a switch, so this time you had asked sweetly if he would dom you. how could he say no to you pleading for him to fuck you, when you look like that?? mans is whipped.

just getting into a rhythm with it, your legs bent over his shoulders as he rocks his hips into yours, he starts to pound your writhing body into the mattress. he hits a special spot when you’re in this position, and this fucker knows it, too— uses it to his advantage.

right when he thinks he’s got you right where he wants you, you whimper out “choke me baby, please~”

shocked as hell but damn it, he spoils you in every aspect of life, of course he’s gonna do what you ask.

he’s never choked you before, let alone anyone... but you may have just awoken a dormant kink o.o

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“Mmm baby,” Shouto groans in your ear, breath heavy in his chest as his cock glides deeper inside of you. “You feel so good— so warm, so wet for me.”

Your legs widen around his waist, ankles crossing behind his back in an attempt to push his hips closer to yours. You’re panting, head thrown back into the sheets and wrists pinned down by his tight grip, moaning as he starts to pick up the pace. “Aha— Sho, fuck yes, all for you!”

He takes your ear between his teeth, nibbling at your skin and washing the side of your face in his hot, ragged breath. His mouth moves to kiss and suck at your jaw, and you stretch your neck so you expose everything to him, wanting for him to mark your throat.

“Sh-Shouto, choke me baby, please~” you whimper, eyes fluttering closed.

Shouto’s so shocked that his hips actually falter, leaning back to look at you and make sure he heard you right. Even though he’s frozen to the spot, you’re restless for him— you shake one of his hands from your wrist and place it around your neck instead, squeezing his thumb and forefinger on the sides of your throat. Wiggling your hips, you urge him to start thrusting again, wanting nothing more than for him to rearrange your guts.

It takes him a second to recalibrate, putting all his weight on his free hand, and just barely pressing down on your neck with his other. But when he does, he groans at how you back arches, a fucked-out expression blooming on your features as your fingers dig into his skin.

Experimentally he give a few shallow thrusts, and when he’s satisfied with the desperate mewls that leak from your mouth, he shoves his cock deep inside of you, all the way. Squeezing at your throat just a little harder, he begins to fuck you eagerly. Excitement courses through him at the image of his hand around your neck, his cock harder than ever as your choked voice moans out his name again and again.

“You look so pretty with my fingers around your throat, baby,” he huffs, watching your tits bounce as his hips smack against yours. The lack of oxygen makes you feel dizzy, cunt twitching snug around his cock as you near your peak. “Gonna cum for me already, like it that much? Fuck babygirl, I like it too...”

𝐛𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐠𝐨𝐮 💥

enjoys fucking you roughly in the first place, this mans will not hesitate to fulfill your request.

you and bakugou have hot, rough sex on the daily. he’s got a lot of pent-up aggravation (somehow, even tho he’s screaming “DIE” every 10 mins), but you happen to like it when he takes it out on you between the legs.

he’s taking you from behind, smothering your face into the pillows as his hips pummel yours, the slick slap of your skins filling the room.

fucks you like he’s got somewhere to be— fast and hard.

but the thing is, he’s got the stamina of a young stallion, so he’s been drilling into you for quite some time now, ignoring your throbbing clit and whines for attention.

so when you moan out “fuck katsu, choke me, choke me”, you don’t think he’ll hear you.

biiitch, you’ve never been more wrong in your life.

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Your slick is slowly dripping down the back of your thighs, each swing of Bakugou’s hips spreading it even further. A little puddle of drool is collecting below where he’s pressing your face against the comforter, your jaw hanging open and weak moans pouring out.

“You’re so fuckin’ loud,” Bakugou grunts, clapping a hand over your already-raw ass, causing you to clench around his thick length that’s plunging deep inside of you. “S’like you want the whole place to know how good you’re getting fucked, huh princess?”

His calloused fingers brush over your neglected clit when you don’t respond, your body seizing up. You let out a long moan instantly, pushing your ass onto his abs in pleasure. “Yessss Katsu, I love it!”

He snickers, pulling your hips back to meet his as he pushes his cock into your wet cunt with ease, watching how your body swallows him whole. Taking a second to spit on the base of his dick, he slaps your ass again, grabbing the flesh there and jiggling it.

“Fuck Katsu, choke me, choke me,” you mumble, starting to slam your ass back to meet his thrusts.

You’re yanked upright abruptly, his hands on your elbows and then one wrapping around your neck so fast you barely have time to realize he’d heard you. His thick fingers coil tight around your throat and you gasp for breath, his grip just loose enough so that you can take in a measly puff of air. Your back is arched perfectly now, on your hands and knees as he begins to plow into you without restraint.

“Fuckin’ dirty little girl,” he growls, loving the way your body looks contorted in his grasp. You try to moan but it comes out a garbled mess, Bakugou’s hand too tight around your throat for the noise to come out regularly. He’d be lying if he said your request didn’t make him ache with a fresh wave of lust— he bares his teeth as he furrows his brow and staves off his impending climax. “Gonna make me bust, you’re so sexy like this, shit..”

His admission sends chills down your spine, and his grip on your neck eases up enough to hear your whines pour out as his fingers start to play with your clit. You sob, your head spinning as you hurtle closer to the edge he’d been keeping you from crossing for so long now.

He chuckles when you start to shake, only pounding his cock into you harder. “If you’re gonna act like a slut, I’ll treat you like a slut.”

𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐮 🔮

dom daddy shinsou, is it really a surprise that he’ll take the ball and run with it?

with shinsou’s nonchalant, intimidating aura, he’s definitely the one to take the reins during sex. make no mistake, he is the one in charge.

he loves to take his time with you and make you squirm until you’re crying for his cock, and then once he’s sure you’re ready for it, he’ll fuck you into next week, just like you beg him to.

he’s doing just that— toying with your overstimulated clit as he leisurely drags your dripping cunt along his thick cock, sitting back and whispering degrading things into your ear while your eyes roll back.

you’re a blabbering mess, squeezing down on him as he sits you flush against his thighs, nestling his hot cock all the way inside. “uhhnn, choke me, daddy~” falls from your open lips, your eyelids fluttering almost shut as you lock eyes with his sinful, violet gaze.

he doesn’t have to say a word— you’re in for it now.

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Shinsou moans in your ear, his deep voice making butterflies flutter in your stomach. Little do you know that while he loves to tease you and prep you for him, it makes his cock leak and throb for you— he’s been wanting to sheath himself in your tight cunt for a whole hour now, and finally, he does. Your mouth falls open as he guides your hips up, your wetness sliding down his length and into his lap.

You can barely keep your mewls of pleasure in as he starts to bounce you on his thighs. He reaches down and thumbs over your slick clit, your eyelids struggling to stay open.

“How’s that feel, kitten?” he grumbles, savoring the way your soft tits move with each drop of your hips. He fights the desire to latch onto your nipple with his mouth, tongue moving across the bottom of his front teeth instead.

“Fuckkkk, feels so good Toshi,” you cry, and his thumb starts to circle around your swollen clit faster in reward. He bucks his hips up into yours, making you shriek in pleasure. As he starts to pick up the pace, you move in tune with him, nose coming to nudge his cheek as you whine for him. “Uhhnn, choke me daddy~” you mumble in his ear.

Shinsou is still for a moment before his hand laces around your neck, gentle grasp soon becoming firm. With a steady hold on your throat, he pulls your body down to seat yourself on his cock even harder, making sure to rut his hips extra deep as well. Your cunt trembles, hugging his cock tight while you throw your arms around his muscled neck, your head dipping back in sheer ecstasy. He wraps his free arm around your waist, hand cupping your ass to throw your body onto his lap while your bouncing begins to get messier, off-balance.

“Nnn, love your tight little cunt, kitty. You look so cute with my hand around your throat like this...” he rumbles, enjoying how your skin feels slapping against his. You’re so soaked at this point that you glide easily on his cock, only getting wetter by the minute with his fingers on your rapid pulse. “Didn’t know you were such a little whore— you like being choked? Like having daddy choke you, hmm?”

You can barely respond, eyes crossing as the head-rush starts getting to you. “Yesyesyes fuck yes daddy~” you whimper, his thumb stroking over your throat. Your clit grinds against his pelvis as you abandon any kind of rhythm with your hips, desperate just to feel his cock stretch your walls and deliver you to euphoria.

Shinsou smirks through his labored breathing, watching you unravel on his cock with pleasure. “C’mon cutie, cum on my cock. Cum and I’ll fuck you hard and fast with my hand on your throat, just like you want.”

#todoroki x reader #bakugou x reader #shinsou x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha headcanons #mha headcanons #todoroki headcanons #bakugou headcanons #shinsou headcanons #todoroki smut #bakugou smut #shinsou smut #bnha smut #mha smut #my hcs #my fics

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moonctzeny · 3 years ago

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champagne sins

pairing: socialite! johnny x fem! reader

genre: smut

word count: 1,714

warnings: alcohol consumption, slight voyerism, slight degradation

a/n: I blame @sehunniepot for this

general taglist: @naomis-sins , @slightlymore-main , @jjaeyoonoh, @ichbinschnappi, @infnteen , @markresonates , @babyksworld

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You love the way your new designer dress hugs your figure tonight, sparkly fabric reflecting the light and making everything around you glow. You love the way the champagne bubbles tickle your tastebuds with their sour taste, on your third glass already and with no intention of stopping anytime soon. You especially love having Johnny eat you up with his eyes from the other side of the room, his honey-colored stare having an iron grip on you.

Letting your body move on its own accord and with a wobble in your step you walk over to where he’s standing, large body resting sideways on the decorated wall. Johnny’s a socialite, yet if you asked him what he did for a living you’d get a different answer every time. He’s a DJ at the biggest club in town, he’s a reality star, he owns real estate. Maybe he’s one of those pretty boys you pay handsomely to loop your arms around for the rest of the night.

And you don’t blame anyone that would want to have Johnny like this, hard to resist with this combination of tall height, dark locks, and even darker intentions. Tonight, he looks more expensive than all your jewelry combined with those leather pants that melt right over his thighs. He’d left the top button of his satin shirt unfastened, teasing you with his smooth, tanned skin, and you take the first leap of immorality by loosening the second one yourself. You’re endlessly jealous of those pearls for getting to loop around his neck.

��Undressing me before even saying hi?”

“Hi. Now can I do one more?”

He chuckles and you take it as a sign to hook your index on the third buttonhole, revealing the top row of his abs. They’re covered in small glitter particles from last night’s fun and you envision the masterpiece you could create with just some lipstick and your fingernails. A sweet smell hazes your mind further, a mixture of his cologne and that caramel-scented e-cig he likes nursing so much.

He hums while still frustratingly keeping his hands to himself, towering over you with his broad shoulders and crushing the surge of confidence caused by the liquid courage, “What has you so naughty tonight baby girl?”

“You”

He loves having people inflate his ego and you know how to take advantage of this fact very well. He pushes back his long bangs with his hand, wet from the heat in the penthouse and finally pulling you closer with the other. His rings dig right over the dimples on your back, just low enough to toy with what’s considered inappropriate in a room full of people. Not that anyone cares, really; everyone is high on the substance of their choice and Johnny is just simply your favorite of vices.

“Naughty, naughty girl”, he muses and you follow his lips like you’re hypnotized, enjoying the degrading way he kisses his teeth.

“You know, when you pretend to be all righteous it makes me wanna fuck you even more”, you bite back and something changes in his eyes, pupils expanding like a big black hole that’s about to swallow you entirely.

His fingers leave his scalp to now grab onto your jaw, thumb hindering the blood from going to your head and forcing you to look away from the tattoo on his chest. You’re so close now that you notice his tongue is toying with some blue-colored candy, its original spherical shape now being a mere wafer-thin piece of sugar.

“You didn’t have a mouth this dirty last time I saw you”

“I thought you loved my mouth”

He grins at your wits, flashing you the same million-dollar smile that gets him free drinks and pretty people at his feet at all times before finally planting his lips on yours.

You think that out of all Johnny’s beauteous features, his lips have to be your favorite ones. Bow shaped and soft, they beg you to suck, nibble, and bruise them, the other party invitees be damned. His right hand, previously resting on your waist, is now grabbing your ass shamelessly, and he takes advantage of the gasp you let out to press the remaining candy against your own tongue. You’re so preoccupied with the way he twirls in your mouth that you’ve pliantly allowed him to corner you between the wall and his body, and when he starts to lick right over the middle of your throat you don’t know if the room is spinning because of the champagne or him.

“Fuck”, you mutter as your half-lidded eyes stare into the ceiling, a familiar hardness poking the top of your thigh.

“Language”, he scolds you against your skin, with a tone so cold you don’t know how it spreads so much warmth to your body, ��Good girls don’t swear”

“What if I want to be bad?”

“Follow me”

You weed your way between the groups of beautiful people, grabbing a glass of champagne on the way, until you reach what seems to be the door to the party thrower’s office. A big “DON’T ENTER” sign hangs from the knob and Johnny throws it to the confetti-filled floor without the slightest guilt, leading you inside the study.

It’s a spacious room, with full-length windows and a mahogany desk placed in front of a filled bookshelf. You don’t even manage to ask him where he wants you when he starts ravaging your neck again, his big body making you backtrack to the reclining leather chair in the end of the office. Unadulterated arousal pulses through you with every bite he leaves behind, and you push him down onto the seat, momentarily enjoying the view of him sprawled like that just for you.

Impatiently, Johnny grabs the back of your bare thighs, pulling you on top of him, and you quickly start to unfasten his braided black belt. Endlessly entertained by the thought of messing with you, he starts petting over the skimpy fabric of your underwear in an effort to distract you. It works, with your fingers shaking as they try to push his pants below his hips while his own start circling around your swollen clit.

A pitiful sob graces his ears as he pushes your soaked up panties to the side, petting your raw pussy that drips with a mess you’ve made just for him. You move your hand between his thighs in retaliation when he pushes two fingers inside you, working him into his full length as your moans harmonize into the most filthy of tunes.

“Tightest fucking pussy. Dripping wet too. Did I do this, pretty girl? Or was I just your victim for the night?”

“Just for you”, you moan out as you move along with his fingers inside you, your hand gliding easily over his cock with the aid of his precum.

He looks so fucking good like that; all messy and sweaty and all yours that you tug the bottom parts of his shirt away from one another, buttons breaking and dancing all over the floor.

“That was expensive”, he mentions playfully just to tease you, knowing damn well this shirt was nothing compared to Johnny’s net worth.

“And I’m priceless”

You take the glass of champagne that you’d left on the floor and start to spill some of the bubbly liquid over his chest, watching manically as it travels through the lines of his abs. The pale moonlight that seeps through the window kisses the wet skin, making him look irresistible as you lean down to suck the drink from the hollows where his muscles connect. Johnny weaves his fingers through your locks and giggles at the feeling, shivering when you reach his happy trail.

“Had enough of a taste?”

“I need one more thing”, you purr and take a condom out of your purse. He strokes his cock lazily as you open the foil carefully, eyeing you hungrily in the meantime, as if he hasn’t taken a good look at you already. When you’re done slipping the condom over his shaft you line the throbbing member to your opening, mentally preparing yourself for the girth you know is about to come.

A breathy whine leaves your lips when he slips fully inside you, and the way Johnny stretches you out already has you seeing stars.

Languidly but full of pleasure you start to circle your hips over him, enjoying the blinking light of the city that falls to your feet. A fleeting feeling of panic surges through you when you see all the people on the road and the balconies of the lower buildings, feeling even more exposed than you already are.

“Johnny, what if someone sees us?”, you ask him innocently but never once do you stop grinding your hips, making him smile at the empty question.

“I thought you wanted to be bad? Not a good girl anymore?”, he teases and thrusts his hips forward without a warning, making you shriek with how deep he reaches inside you. “A naughty, filthy girl that wants my cock in a party full of guests and with the whole city watching.”

He lifts his hand to drag down the fabric of your top, successfully freeing your chest and exposing you even more, loving the way your boobs look as you ride him.

“You think that just because anyone that happens to look up to see you being all slutty for me I’m not gonna fuck you against every surface in this room?”

You whimper at this promise, and your experience with him vouches that it will soon turn into reality.

“Please”, he scoffs, “you better bounce”

#it’s 3:30 am #neosmutcollective #neowritingsnet #johnny suh smut #johnny seo smut #johnny suh #nct 127 #nct smut #johnny smut #johnny scenarios #johnny x reader #johnny imagines #suh johnny #johnny fanfic

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divinefireangel · 3 years ago

Note

SF9 reaction to their s/o being horny in the middle of the night lol ty

Me being horny rn helps ig ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Warnings: Smut. A lot of it. Female anatomy. Everything is consensual. Unprotected sex. Biting. Fingering. Pussy slapping (sorry for the choice of words, I'm tired rn 💀). Dom/sub tones. Manhandling? Doggy style. Oral (R). Missionary. Kitten as pet name. Riding. Thigh riding. Face sitting. Cockwarming. Dirty talk. Lmk if I need to add more.

Youngbin

He won't wake up till his dick is like super hard

And that's gonna happen easily cause you're squirming against him

When he does wake up tho

He'll grab your hips to stop you from moving

Slowly grinds his front to your back

Pleased breaths while his eyes are still closed

"Need some help jagi?"

And he asks that in a deep ass voice conveying that he's awake

Won't think much about it tbh

He'll just pull your shorts/underwear down along with his

And fucks his cock into your wet hole

Lemme tell you it feels heavenly when he enters you

You can't help but moan out loud as your eyes roll back

Harshly bites your shoulder and neck

His expert hips do an amazing job 🤤

The pace is fast then slow

Definitely squeezes your ass harshly

Inseong

Oh he's gonna be a lil pissed that you made him horny

But he doesn't get fully hard

He will in the morning but right now

He wants to punish you 😉

Strips your lower half so quickly you don't even finish a gasp

Smacks your pussy a few times while scolding/degrading you a lil bit

"Fuck you can't keep your hands off me can you?"

"Want me to make you cum baby?"

And while he's dirty talking to you

His fingers are teasingly running over your hips and inner thighs

Just to rile you up more

His tongue enters your mouth at the same moment his fingers enter you

So relentless in his movements

Thumb is circling your clit while his whole fingers pump in and out of you

"Yeah. You like that don't you?"

And fuck you do cause you're literally shaking against his body that's on top of yours

Starts to suck on your neck when you start to clench

Jaeyoon

Oh he's just gonna groan as soon as he's half awake

Not cause he's upset

Oh hell no

He's actually very happy

Just give him a moment to wake up

"Get ready to be sore in the morning jagi"

Bites his lip as his hands roughly turn you into your front

Straddles your thighs

Slaps your ass and presses his crotch along it's curve

Pulls both of your pants till your mid thigh

Enters you whole swiftly making your legs quiver

One hands is placed next to your head and the others is holding your head to the pillow

Literal inhuman pace

Wants to make you cum quickly

And preferable more than once

Mocks your whines omg

"Fuck can you feel the bed shake baby?"

"You love it when I fuck you into the mattress?"

Loves that your night shorts are restricting your leg movements making you writhe under him whenever you cum

Dawon

Oh he isn't asleep don't worry

Smirks when he hears your breathy moans as you clench your thighs together to relieve yourself

Slowly slips under the covers

Kisses your thighs so suddenly you shriek

Also kisses your folds over your shorts

When you throw the covers off your bodies, he pulls your shorts off

"Are you wet for me baby?"

Doesn't let you answer cause he's already diving into your pussy

Licks long stripes up and down at first

Then enters you with his tongue

Nose nudges your clit

Fingers pinching your inner thighs

Arms wrapped around your thighs and hips to hold you down

Cause you're shaking so much from the pleasure he's giving you with his mouth

Purposely swears while he's sucking your clit just to make you cry out for him

Very cruel

But it's okay cause he makes you cum hard

You're chewing on your wrist just to not scream from your intense orgasm

So proud when he comes up to your face level

Zuho

He'll be half asleep when he tells you to stop and go back to sleep

And also that he'll fuck you in the morning

But you are his needy kitten right

So you turn to face him and start to trace his facial features with one hand

Your other hand slips between your bodies to cup his length over his sweats

Slowly you tease him till he's awake

But what you don't know is that he's been awake since he asked you to stop

Cause when you teased him he was reminded of how good your feel wrapped around his dick and body

Grabbing your hand he surprises you

"I'll teach you a lesson now. My sexy kitten is horny for my dick huh?"

Throws the covers off so suddenly

Pulls you to the edge of bed by the back of your knees

Spanks your thighs till they're red while dirty talking you till you're begging him to fuck you like his good kitten

Rubs your folds with the head of his veiny cock

My gosh you can feel the texture of his dick on your walls when he enters you

Fucks you senseless

He wants you leaking on the bed but at the same time he wants to punish you for waking him up

He'll hold your face in his palm to make you look into his eyes when he teases you and when he cums deep in you

Rowoon

"Stop. Please."

Cause he knows that if he's hard he will fuck you till your legs are jelly

But he doesn't have the energy for that right now

When you whine and plead while tracing his chest and abdomen

He'll give in

Obviously he will

Pulls his night shorts down till his dick is free

Strokes himself during the whole time you get up and undress your lower half

Hand rests on your hip as you straddle his naked core with yours

Groans when you start to sink down on him

Definitely wide awake when he's completely in your heat

Moving back and forth bit by bit you bite your lip and release teasing moans of his name

"Fuck please go faster. You feel so amazing around me"

So many compliments 🥺

Pushing your hair to one side you lean down to capture his lips

Kissing him desperately you ride him faster

His hands rest on your ass

Squeezing it when you clench around him

Kiss his neck to drive him insane omg

His thighs tense and his hands roughly grab your hips when he cums

Curses mixed with your name

Which triggers your orgasm too

Yoo Taeyang

Tae would've been fast asleep

If it weren't for you sighing angrily every few minutes

Then every few seconds

All you were trying to do was to relieve yourself of your horniness

Clenching on nothing but air

Tae was rather tired today but if he wasn't, he'd be all over you and in you in every fucking way he knows

"Just turn on to your side"

His voice did startle you but you obeyed

So you spoon with him being the bigger spoon

That is until he moved your shorts to a side

"Fuck. You're really wet baby."

He says as his fingers play with your folds agonizingly slowly

Teasing your entrance purposely

When you beg him not to tease you cutely

He just lifts your upper leg higher till it's bent at your knee

Pumps his cock a few times leaving you in inticipation of what he'll do next

You moan when he enters you, taking you gently

Shuddering you clench around him so much that he hisses you to stop

Driving his dick completely in your warmth he just stays there

Not moving a bit and and groaning you to stop whenever you squeezed his length

Holds you close like that till you both fall asleep

Hwiyoung

He just laughs tiredly

"Babygirl I can't right now"

Almost sounds like whining

But when you kiss his neck and grind on his thigh and ask him oh so sweetly

"Please 🥺"

Fuck his resolve breaks and he's wide awake now

Gulps and licks his lips

"I have an idea. Ride my face."

He giggles when he sees your happy yet shocked expression

Massages you thighs as you climb up to his face

His eyes never leave your core 🤭

God he's never looked so hungry for you ever

His pupils blown, breathing heavy

The moment you are comfortable over his face he just goes to town

Pulls you lower by your hips

Eyes closed the whole while

Humming in approval at the way you taste

And you totally losing it above him is just motivating him more

Your cries

Your hands pulling his hair

Or holding the headboard

Or when you lean you head on the wall when his teeth scrape your clit

Gosh he'll want to do this every single fucking time you have sex

Chani

Okay he's gonna be a little lazy

He's too tired to fuck you or even get hard or so he thinks

So he'll just stop your whining by nudging your thighs apart

And pushing his knee in between them

"Make yourself cum"

He's barely awake lmao

When your start riding his thigh, he slowly wakes up when he feels that wet patch from your leaked arousal on his thigh

Slides his hand in his own pants and strokes himself to the same speed as you hips

The other hand rides up in your shirt

Tweaks your hard nipples

Kisses your neck when you whimper

Moans your name into your ear

Presses his hard chest into your back

Starts flexing his thigh muscles to give you added pleasure

Slips the hand playing with your nipples inside your shorts

Rubs your clit at a fast pace

"Close baby?"

Tiny pecks your neck to ear when you cum from his hand and thigh

Pecks at your cheek and jaw lovingly as you calm down from your intense high

SF9 Masterlist

#sf9 #sf9 reactions #sf9 smut #sf9 x reader #sf9 x reader smut #sf9 scenarios

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navegandoaciegas · 4 years ago

Text

Cloud nine

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+, smut, pwp, watersports, dom/sub undertones, dom!bucky, sub!reader, reader calls bucky daddy, creampie.

Summary: You’ve never had an orgasm during sex, and Bucky is determined to make you come, no matter how unusual your request may be.

A/N: I have no words lmfao just- don’t read if pee bothers you please.

Frustration pooled in your stomach, festering on your negative emotions.

Bucky slumped beside you, cheeks flushed, drool and sweat all over his face as he clinged to your chest, catching his breath.

You’d been going at it for hours, and he’d fucked you in all the positions on the book, changing pace and angles to hit every spot inside you until he’d come in your aching cunt more times than humanly possible and you’d run yourself dry.

He’d praised you, degraded you, slapped you, kissed your tears, made soft love to you and fucked you like a rag doll, fingered you until his fingers cramped and wrinkled, and you hadn’t come.

You always treaded the edge, so close yet so far from reaching the crest of your high, only to fall back down without ever being able to let yourself crash.

“Sorry,” he panted softly in the crook of your neck, right hand tracing soothing circles on your hip.

“‘S not your fault.”

“I know, I just-”

He interrupted himself with a huff, drowning his unspoken words in your skin.

You’d had this conversation numerous times before.

It wasn’t him, as no other partner had ever been able to make you cum either. They hadn’t even cared enough to worry about it.

It wasn’t you either, nothing in your anatomy, at least.

You liked Bucky, you desired him. Just looking at him too long made the walls of your cunt throb uncontrollably. And you had no trouble making yourself cum on your fingers, even without any toy or porn involved, just the thought of him and his fat cock inside you.

You’d been dating for months now, and he hadn’t given you a single orgasm yet.

You could see it begin to tear down his confidence, flooding his mind with insecurities he’d confided you with, how he feared you’d leave him for someone better, or you’d tire of him and move on.

With a bitter smile you’d replied that he’d be the one to leave for a better partner he could pleasure, and from then on Bucky hadn’t mentioned it anymore, but you could see the doubts plaguing his mind, twisting and turning his thoughts in grey clouds, draining him everytime he came and you didn’t.

You felt broken, and he felt guilty.

You needed to find a solution, and you needed to do it fast.

Your therapist was a nice woman, stern when needed and caring at times, and yet you couldn’t fucking stand her whenever she repeated the same sentence that your gynecologist had told you already.

The more you worried about your orgasm, the harder it would be to cum.

An easy concept to grasp if you weren’t the one struggling, if orgasms came as easy as eating and breathing.

You huffed in frustration, one hand in your sweatpants as you lazily fondled with your clit, the other scrolling through a porn website, looking for a video that would get the job done for you, eager to release the stress of your day at work.

You scrolled through staged videos that would only aggravate you, women who squealed loud enough to hurt your eardrums and men too rough for your liking. Pov’s, plumbers and housewives, gangbangs, vintage and fake taxis.

You could feel the irritation build up inside you when, reached the 23rd page, you hadn’t found a video that would satisfy you yet.

Famous pornstars, amateurs, thousands of bytes of porn that made your thumb scrolling on your phone cramp, until you stumbled upon a video with a title so debauched that you felt compelled to click on it.

And so, an idea, admittedly not your best one, began to form in your head as your fingers worked your clit furiously to bring you over the edge.

Bucky had been surprisingly eager to try it out when you’d mentioned it whilst you brushed your teeth on a random morning, excited even, almost as if he’d meant to ask all along and never built the courage to.

You’d tried a lot of things, and you had nothing to lose at this point. So, you’d lined your mattress with plastic sheets, and hoped for the best.

Soft lips nipped your neck, peppering the column of your throat with wet kisses.

You registered the sheets rustling beneath you and Bucky’s silky hair tickling you.

You blinked your bleary eyes, adjusting yourself to the gentle morning light seeping through the blinds, painting your room in intricate shadows.

“Mornin’,” you croaked, a small smile tugging at your lips.

Like every time that Bucky spent the night at your place, you’d wake up to his lips and hands all over you.

“G’mornin’, princess,” he mumbled, hands getting bolder, hiking up your thighs.

It didn’t take long for Bucky’s touch to ignite the fire in your core, warmth pooling in your lower belly as he cupped your cunt over your shorts.

He pulled away from your neck to look at you in the eyes, pupils dilated by desire.

Bucky was always so eager, pouncing on you at any chance he got. He was especially needy on weekend mornings, where he could take his time with you and make love to you until he’d be exhausted and you’d be, well, happy to participate.

His hand slipped under your shorts, lazily stroking your clit, still swollen from the night before.

“Already so wet for me?” he noted, gathering your wetness on his fingertips and smearing it over your sensitive bud.

A breathy gasp escaped your parted lips, followed by many others as he continued to work your cunt. Your walls throbbed in anticipation, and you bit your lips, eager for his cock to fill you to the brim.

Bucky continued peppering your neck, clavicles, chest with kisses, hiking your t-shirt over your tits before he attacked your nipples with his mouth.

It felt like being on cloud nine, having him take care of you so good, brain turned to mush as you let him do anything he wanted to you.

The same negative thoughts that swirled in your mind everytime you had sex with Bucky flashed behind your eyes for a fleeting moment, reminding you of how you wouldn’t come even this time, despite your efforts. You willed yourself to focus on the moment, on the small jolts on electricity in your cunt, on your hardening nipples, and heaving chest.

His warm mouth latched on your nipples, suckling them between his teeth, tongue swirling on them.

“Bucky please,” you whined, growing impatient with his teasing, “Fuck me already, please.”

He chuckled, head buried between your tits.

“Careful when you talk to me, little girl.”

“Or what?”

A mischievous grin spread on his face as he descended down, tongue tracing your stomach, belly, hip bones, peppering kisses and bruises until he reached your silk shorts.

He threw one more look at you before biting the fabric and slowly tugging it down your legs.

You kicked the shorts away and spread your legs, revealing your glistening cunt to Bucky’s hungry eyes.

“Fuck,” he groaned, resuming back to sucking bruises on the soft skin of your inner thighs, “Such a pretty pussy, princess.”

Fire spread through your body when his warm breath hit your lips, and the anticipation before he closed his mouth on your clit sent shivers down your spine.

“Fuck yourself on my mouth, baby girl. Show daddy how good you are to him, how much you want his cock, hm?”

You didn’t need to be told twice, and started grinding your hips on his face while he lapped at your folds, drinking up your arousal.

A soft sigh, followed by a hiss and a high pitched moan were ripped out of you when Bucky pushed two fingers past your entrance, curling them inside you.

You continued the steady rhythm, fucking yourself on his face until the familiar tension began building in your cunt.

“Just like that daddy,” you shrieked, “Make me cum, please, please.”

You kept going, speeding your movements, chasing your release, thighs quivering around his head, reaching higher, and higher, and-

And then it was gone, snuffed like a weak flame in the wind.

You tugged on Bucky’s hair, and brought his face to yours in a desperate kiss, slanting your mouth against his. You tasted yourself on his tongue, tangy and musky.

He ground his hips on you, growing more and more desperate by the second.

He never lasted long in the morning.

“Fuck me, daddy, please, wanna feel your cock inside me,” you whined, wiggling your hips.

“Can’t say no to you, princess.”

He had such a pretty cock, not too big, veiny and flushed. You wanted him in your mouth, in your pussy, between your tits. You wanted him whole, and it frustrated you so much that despite your wants you couldn’t satiate your needs.

He lined himself up with your dripping cunt, and pushed his cock inside you with one swift motion, until you were full to the brim and his balls slapped against your ass.

He hauled your thighs over his shoulders, folding you under his weight.

“So tight,” he spat through gritted teeth, fighting against the urge to burst as you snapped your hips up.

One of his forearms rested laid your head while the other hand came to rest on your neck, not cutting off your air but as a clear warning to stop moving around.

“Move, please” you begged, mind hazy with pleasure.

It always felt so good when his cock stretched you out, when it rubbed on your gummy walls, a ring of white cream pooling just above his balls.

It always felt good, and that’s why you hated it. It always gave you the illusion that this time you’d come, just this once you’d overcome your problem and have an earth shattering orgasm like you deserved.

His cock kept hitting all the spots inside you, your walls pulsating around him, suffocating him in a tight grip.

“Daddy? Can we- can we try that thing?” you moaned, sneaking a hand between your bodies to furiously rub your swollen clit.

“Yes, fuck, that’s so hot, God, I’m gonna do it, okay?” he grunted, picking up the pace of his pace, harder, faster, spurred on by your high pitched shrills, until his movements grew sloppier.

“Ask me nicely,” he snarled, furrowing his brows and gritting his teeth.

“Piss inside me, daddy. Use me like the fuckin’ dirty whore I am.”

The room was filled with the squelching sounds of his balls hitting your ass and your drooling pussy. His tongue lolled out of his mouth, and he came gripping your thighs so hard it would surely leave a mark.

His cum spilled inside you while your walls milked every last drop.

You closed your eyes, willing your body to relax as he rested his head on your chest. His hand shoed yours away, roughly rubbing your clit.

You could feel his cock go soft inside you, his warm cum spilling out of your pussy.

It was building up inside you, the tension from before. You hiked high, and higher, and your legs were shaking, body shook by jolts of electricity.

“Fuck,” he hissed, grinding his teeth.

You moaned, his name on your tongue like a chant.

And then, Bucky sighed, eyes shutting in bliss as he released inside you.

Never in your life has you felt quite as warm, or full, as his searing hot piss filled you in from the inside, invading your cunt and overflowing out of you.

So hot, so full, so high that you couldn’t smell the pungent scent of his piss or hear anything other than your frenzied heartbeat in your ears.

“Daddy, daddy, I’m coming, I’m coming.”

And then you were cumming around his soft cock so hard that your eyes rolled to the back of your skull. Your body twitched and spasmed as a long awaited orgasm wrecked through you, wiping your mind blank for several seconds.

When you opened your eyes again, Bucky’s soft smile greeted you. Everything felt hazy, like having your head underwater and cotton in your mouth.

He nuzzled your nose, picking your limp body from the bed and carrying you to the bathroom.

“Daddy is so proud of you, princess.”

Not proofread sorry 😬

Please reblog and leave a comment if you can! 🥰

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x y/n

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no-droids · 4 years ago

Text

Mercy, Sabotage, and Dead Space

(gif credit to @redwyyne-archive)

Part One of The Bet series

Pairing: Poe Dameron/Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 12.7K

Summary:

1. No sex.

2. No touching yourself.

3. No orgasms.

Warnings/Tags: DUBCON/NONCON elements, fuckboy Poe (OOC), Enemies to Lovers, degradation/humiliation, mentions of oral sex, SMUUUTTTTTTTT also I’m not sorry for what I did but you’re not allowed to read if you’re gonna get mad at me okay byeeee

***

This.

This shit, right here.

If the question was ever, “What’s the stupidest fucking thing you’ve ever let Poe Dameron somehow talk you into doing?” then the answer is this stupid shit, right the fuck here. This is like. You remember that one game, Mercy? The one where you’d dig your nails in and twist arms and just needlessly inflict pain on each other as children until one of you cried uncle because someone somewhere once decided to turn torture into a matter of pride?

You always thought those games were fucking ridiculous. Who can hold their breath the longest, who can handle a lit deathstick against their flesh the longest, who can take the hardest punch—who cares? It’s child’s play. It’s self-inflicted agony for the sake of bragging rights and even as a youngling, you refused to fall for it.

But then you met… fucking Dameron.

You know those people that… they don’t just rub you the wrong way, but literally every single aspect about their personality is sandpaper against wet skin and your whole entire being feels chafed raw just by existing in their general vicinity for an extended period of time?

You’re… you’re not usually a competitive—much less aggressive person. You never have been. It’s just not part of your nature. If you ever excel at anything in life, it isn’t because of some secret, deep-seated desire to win or be better than anyone else. You just… do you. You do whatever you do, and if it’s good, it’s good. And if it’s bad, it’s good. Because at the end of the day at least it’s still you, and you’re okay with that.

But this?

This shit? Right here?

“This is fucking dumb,” you say, because you know it’s what you both must be thinking so you may as well just get it out in the open. “This is the dumbest fucking thing, Dameron. What are we doing? Why are we doing this?”

The grumpy, orange-jumpsuited figure sitting behind you just sighs heavily and slumps even further down in his bucket seat, as if it isn’t the first time you’ve tried asking this incredibly valid question (it totally is), bringing a palm down to thunk the top of the guidance controls between his legs in a quiet irritation you’re almost certain has everything to do with the very topic you’re trying to bring up.

“Because,” comes that infuriating drawl. You can only see his face from this angle by looking at his reflection in the transparisteel barrier directly in front of you, but even just imagining the way his mouth moves while he rounds out the words makes your jaw clench. “The coordinates we picked up were scrambled and this rendezvous could be going down at any one of thirty-six locat—?”

“No,” you interrupt him with a scowl, “not why I’ve been floating in dead space in this Maker-forsaken ship with you for eight fucking hours a day since… fuck, what’s today? Thursday? Friday? Nope, can’t be Friday, Friday’s our off-day. Thursday, then. …Thursday?” You shake your head. “Ugh, see? Time doesn’t exist when I’m not allowed to cum, life is like one never-ending nightmare.”

“Oh.” He takes a second to think about it in silence, the calloused tips of his fingers scratching the side of his face while he considers. It wouldn’t usually be as loud as it is right now. Maybe it’s the haunting quiet of space surrounding the ancient powered down hunk of metal you’re both stuck in, inadvertently isolating and amplifying the sound—or maybe it’s because your copilot’s jaw is currently covered in a thick, dark beard that you swear barely took his testosterone-overloaded ass a fucking week or two to grow, if that. Regardless, the dark bristles crunch loudly under his short fingernails and it takes you about a grand total of five whole uninterrupted seconds of the scraping sound to realize you’re grinding your teeth along with it. “Well,” he finally says, “that was your stupid idea.”

“Hmmmmmmmno,” you contest firmly, wiggling your elbow back to poke at his shin with your index finger once, twice, thrice, until he finally slaps your hand away in quiet irritation. To the misfortune of you both—and likely the other hundred or so pilots concurrently taking rotating shifts in these tandem x-wings in a glorified mass stakeout, the cockpit of this ship is just way too fucking small. Your arm is squeezed uncomfortably against machinery and electronics to get to him from this angle and a light slap isn’t going to stop you now that you’re here. “You—” (poke) “—have a superiority complex and decided to turn it into a competition, not—” (poke) “—me.”

“Oh, I have a superiority complex, okay,” he scowls and nods in vehement, fake agreement, finally giving up and letting you poke at will, but the appeal is lost as soon as you realize he’s over it and your arm eases back into your lap. You watch his reflection look out of the viewport and scan the empty void of space for the twentieth time in the past five minutes, clearly just as desperate to get back to base as you are. “So what is it you call saying—wait, no no, not even saying, loudly declaring—‘Of course I can go longer without sex than “wham bam thank you ma’am” Dameron, you brainless fucks, it’s a simple fact!’”

“Alright—I don’t sound like that, fuck you very much,” you return, in reference to his shrieking, high-pitched impression of you surrounded by your fellow pilots in the rec room when you’ve had a bit too much to drink. “Also, you don’t have to finger-quote literally every single syllable of my fucking sentence, Dameron. First and last word, that’s all it takes. And if it’s so superiority complex-ey of me to state simple facts, then what is it you call saying ‘betcha two weeks worth of pay you can’t, pretty baby’?”

“Uh, easy credits?” He immediately asks, side-eyeing your reflection through the transparisteel. “ Easy credits. Just begging for it. Two weeks of your slutty, sexy, easy fucking credits just begging to be taken and used— ”

“You need to get laid,” you cut in to tell him bluntly, scrunching your nose in what you hope looks like disgust. As per protocol, the power to the x-wing was cut at the beginning of your shift—what feels like a fucking eternity ago—as a preventative maneuver in case the target falls out of hyperspace unexpectedly. Avoiding the scanners of a fleet that may never actually show means it’s cold and dimly lit in here—just starlight in front of either you, but you’re hoping he can gauge the severity of your revulsion with your back to him. “You just turned my money into a sex object. It was vile. I feel violated on its behalf.”

“Sounds like you’re the one who needs to get laid,” he tosses carelessly back at you, and you roll your eyes with as much sass as you can physically muster, so tired of all the dodging. You know this hasn’t been easy for him either, he just has too much pride to admit it. “Besides, you’ve gotta be past the withdrawal stage by now. Is it really all that bad?”

“The fuck you mean, ‘Is it really all that bad’?” You snap at him, shuffling around grumpily in your seat, hating the way the bulky weapons controls sit right between your thighs and prevent you from closing them. Withdrawal stage, ha. “Of course it’s all that bad. It’s horrible. It’s the fucking worst. And more importantly, how are you not having any trouble with this? Oh, wait—that’s right,” you answer yourself before he has a chance to. “Because you cheated.”

“I did not cheat,” Dameron’s reflection immediately challenges with an accusatory finger pointed at you. “I did not. When the fuck did I cheat? I swapped housing assignments with your shitty roommate and slept in the bunk below yours for a month and a half—all because you don’t believe in the honor system—just so you could tell me I fucking cheated?”

You scoff, feeling your annoyance spark even more. He’s always been able to get under your skin, but the neglect you’ve been forcing your body to endure is just throwing gasoline on an already roaring fire. “Okay, first of all? Rude. I am a fucking joy to have as a roomie, alright? I put up with your snoring, your 2:00 AM dinners, you blasting your radio while I’m trying to sleep, I barely complain about your body odor—”

“My snoring is adorable, I get snacky at night, only sad people with fucked up lives hate music, I smell amazing,” Dameron casually lists off on his fingers, the self-confidence so easy and unshakeable that you swear he’s almost preening at the compliments he just gave himself by the time he’s finished rebutting everything you can think to throw at him. And, while you’d never admit it, he does smell good. He smells… unbelievably fucking good. Always. Something dark and woodsy, you can never quite put your finger on. It pisses you off, so much that you’ve made a habit of pulling a face of disgust whenever the warm, rich scent noticeably reaches you, hoping it deflates his ego just a little bit. No such luck so far.

“Whatever. The point is I’m a good fucking neighbor, alright, I’m neighborly as fuck,” you grumble, crossing your arms over your chest defensively. “And don’t make it sound like I’m putting a chastity lock on your balls every night, because you can fuck anyone you want. In fact, I strongly fucking encourage it—I just want to know about it when it happens.”

Dameron smirks and you groan, already knowing what’s coming. “You wanna hear it?”

Yep, there it is. “Second of all—”

“Feel the whole bunk rock with it?” He goes on, completely ignoring you. “Use the excuse that you’re trapped up top so you can just stay there the whole time and listen? You know you can do a lot more than just—”

“Second of all,” you project over him, “you’re seriously telling me you haven’t had any wet dreams then, hm? No snorgasms? Hmmm? No happy naps? No captain midnights? No mattress fracking? Hmmmmmm???”

His voice very quickly sounds… shocked. “How many fucking euphemisms—?”

“Wait wait, one more—” you quickly interrupt, too much momentum to stop now, “—sleepskeet.”

You watch in immense satisfaction as his expression seems to progress through all five stages of grief, before he exhales a long, unamused sigh and scratches his beard again. You want to pluck each strand of it out of his face one by one. “Anyways. Wet dreams are totally different and don’t count.”

“It’s not different!” You burst out, unable to help yourself, “it’s an orgasm, and rule number three is no orgas—”

“I know what the rules were, Gold-Ten,” he returns calmly, and it infuriates you, how he’s always able to make it seem like you’re the instigator who’s overreacting. And he knows exactly what he’s doing by calling you by your flight designation, and it pisses you off even more because calling him Black-Leader in any other situation besides active warfare just feels like an unnecessary reminder of his skills. Why he’s currently behind you manning the guidance controls and why you’re currently stuck in the front seat with the bulkier weapons systems. “The question is if you’re seriously that bad enough of a sport to automatically disqualify me because of something that happens to any human with a dick indiscriminately when we blueball ourselves.”

“But that’s the entire fucking point, Dameron!” You shrill, throwing your hands in the air in pure exasperation. “There it is! You need it more than I do, you just said it yourself! Not to mention I said I can go longer without sex than you can— sex , not orgasms, but as it turns out I win at both. Now can we please call this shit off so I can finally cum? This isn’t fun anymore.”

“Nope,” he says immediately, popping the P with a bit too much hard emphasis to be genuinely amused. He’s frustrated, too—his voice is too pleased, too fake to not be masking irritation underneath. “Sorry. But this was also your stupid idea, so.”

“You’re insufferable,” you grumble, anger flaring equal to his, just way more… verbal. And descriptive. “Wet dreams don’t count, fucking right. Tell that to the oceans of Kamino I got going on down there, huh? I move on this seat wrong and I’ll slide off it—”

A loud slam of a palm against the controls suddenly echoes throughout the small cockpit, causing you to jump slightly.

“Don’t,” Dameron snarls, “... say shit like that to me. Not right now. Not right now, fuck .”

You go quiet for a moment, not expecting that much of an outburst at something you considered to be a throwaway remark, but then… oh. Something occurs to you, something… sinister. Oh, well, now there’s an idea.

Everything inside you immediately surges up and burns at the thought—the mere whisper of a way out of all of this, quickly, without giving in and letting him hold your surrender over you for Maker knows how long. It’s so fucking simple, you don’t know why you didn’t think of it before. You don’t have to wait him out at all; instead, you just need to… entice him into giving in first.

Neither of you say anything for a while, and you don’t know what he’s thinking (nothing, probably—a dry tumbleweed bouncing across an empty desert landscape, you imagine) but you take the dip in conversation to consider a plan. You can’t go at it too outright, it’ll be too big of a turnaround and he’ll see it coming lightyears away. A halfhearted joke about your pussy tossed out without thinking is what catalyzed the most substantial reaction from him you’ve seen, so… maybe you can keep steering the conversation towards the idea.

“How many wet dreams have you had?” You suddenly ask, your heart beginning to pick up in your chest as soon as the words are out of your mouth.

“Excuse me?” Dameron grunts from behind you, and you catch his reflection raising a thick eyebrow at you.

You take a deep breath and disguise it by stretching your back out just a little bit, lifting your shoulder blades and arching the sore muscles there, before settling back down in your normal crappy posture once more. “Now many times did you cum in your sleep? Had to at least been once for you to claim they don’t count.”

“Why does it matter?” He asks, completely sidestepping the question for the second time. “It was involuntary.”

You shrug. “Just so I know how many freebies I can get tonight.”

“No,” Dameron instantly counters, his voice dead serious. “Not fucking allowed.”

“Why not?” You ask, and this time, there’s significantly less challenge than you’d typically deliver it with. Instead, your voice is soft, questioning. Not argumentative, but curious, and there’s just enough of your point left unsaid that it’ll seem like he conjured the rest of the image himself.

There’s silence while he considers his response to the perfectly executed bait. You assume you’re both picturing the same thing, because it’s what you’ve pictured almost every single night spent in this celibate hellscape. The cool darkness of your shared quarters, the standard-issue sheets that still feel crispy and rough on your skin no matter how many nights you’ve slept in them, with one of your hands pressed tight over your mouth and two of your fingers circle your clit.

“You only get to do it if I’m in the room,” he poses instead, and you swallow thickly, feeling your body tighten with an unintentional drop of pure heat through your tummy at the thought. Maker, it must be really bad if Poe fucking Dameron is getting to you like this. The bane of your existence shouldn’t make your insides twist in on themselves—at least, not in a good way.

“Not like I’d have much choice,” you eventually respond, keeping it purposefully ambiguous. “It’s your room, too. Unfortunately.”

Stars, it’s been so long since you’ve done this, since you’ve walked the fine line between flirtation and seduction, wanting to turn on the charm slowly—gradually ease it up like a hyperdrive lever under your fingertips so that you’re at maximum by the time he realizes you’re even there. You take a moment to glance at his reflection, watching Dameron look back at you curiously, a flash of interest in his eyes.

“By the way, how does that one girl feel about us doing this?” You ask out of nowhere, suddenly remembering the existence of his pretty little number. You’ve seen her under his arm around base at least a few times, which is more than you can say for the rest of them. “Red-Six. Tall brunette with the tattoos—I don’t bother learning names, they all come and go.”

“Nihla,” Dameron nods with a wistful sigh, tilting his head to rest against his shoulder. “Or, wait… Neah. No—it was… Nalal. Yeah, Nalal, I think that’s right…”

“Unbelievable,” you mutter. “One of the greatest mysteries of the universe is how many people get in line for you, I’ll never fucking understand it.”

“They just want me for my cock,” he tells you without missing a single beat, sounding like he’s not joking in the slightest. “It was starting to get obnoxious. Glad I finally have an excuse to turn them down.”

“Unbelievable,” you repeat, stunned by how truly, mind-blowingly full of himself he is. “You’re… fucking…”

You end up just staring at him and making a sound somewhere between a laugh and a scoff, at a complete loss for words, and Dameron eventually shrugs and continues on after you fail to form a coherent thought in the allotted time frame he provides.

“Now I can just tell them I’m in a long-running bet with Gold-Ten over who can sexually deprive themselves the longest and weirdly enough, they don’t seem all that interested anymore,” he remarks, tilting his chin up and rubbing at his beard again, and for some reason… the sound of it bothers you somewhat less now, the way he phrased that resonating deeper inside you than it should. Lower than it should. You blink a few times, almost shocked by your body’s unprecedented response to his admission—Poe Dameron uses you as an excuse to turn down sex with pretty girls? Happily?—and your mind goes blank for a second while he watches you through the transparisteel. “It’s alright,” he eventually goes on, tilting his head. “Sometimes a sabbatical is good. I do really miss pussy, though.”

“Well,” you finally tell him, oddly not having much else to offer at the moment. “I’m sorry? And… you’re welcome. I guess.”

Dameron shrugs once more and makes an apathetic sound without opening his mouth, and you drop your stare down to the machinery between your spread thighs after feeling like you were looking at each other for too long. The position started uncomfortable and seven hours later, it’s still fucking uncomfortable. At first the discomfort twinged at your hips and lower back, but now the sensation seems to be… centering itself a bit more, finding a spot right between your legs, especially when his words echo through your subconscious and make you naturally want to push your thighs together. I do really miss pussy, though.

You try to snap out of it a bit, try to stop hyperfixating on the way your underwear has felt sticky and wet for fucking hours now, but it’s so fucking difficult to chill yourself out when your body already went into this whole situation with a month and a half long stumbling block. He’s not really doing anything at all—he’s leant back in his chair and staring out the window into the black emptiness of space when you steal a look once more, but something about how his casual responses are affecting you makes it seem like he’s the one currently seducing you.

Maker, you have to focus. You have to control yourself. You’re starting to feel a little warm in your thick jumpsuit—a particular shade of orange that does not compliment your complexion but you normally rejoice in wearing regardless. It’s baggy and uniform and hides most of your curves and most importantly, it keeps you toasty on missions like this. Space is cold —especially this far out in the Cauper Void, and there’s no fucking reason this powered down hunk of floating metal should feel as muggy and stifling as it does in here.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” you suddenly hear yourself say, spontaneously, no thought put into it whatsoever. One last try, one last attempt to avoid it, a last-ditch go at flight before he gives you no choice and you’re left with this one remaining option. “This isn’t a good idea. It’s… not healthy. I don’t want to do this anymore.”

This gets a small chuckle out of him. “I know you don’t, pretty baby.”

“Then let’s just call the whole thing off,” you propose once again, trying to lighten your tone, make it a… a friendly thing. It sounds so fake, even to your own ears—since when would you be desperate enough to let the dreaded petname slide?—but granted, you know what they say about time and measures and all that shit. “We can call it a tie, just go back to the way things were befo—”

He cuts you off and pins you with his gaze through the reflection. “You realize that you begging me to put an end to your suffering is—ridiculously hot, mostly—but also only an incentive to make me keep pushing until you finally give in?”

You groan and comb some of your hair off your forehead, not liking the way it’s getting just the slightest bit damp. “Fine, we won’t call it off, but can we at least just stop—” You immediately catch yourself, not wanting to unintentionally push this too far too quickly, but your hesitation is clear and compelling enough for him to prompt you.

“At least just stop what?” Dameron asks, and though you don’t think it’s intentional or even noticeable from his perspective, something about the way his voice sounds… husky. Low to the ground.

“Stop dragging it out,” you breathe, your heart pounding. Why is your heart pounding so fucking fast? This is a fucking sting op, a facade, so why are you getting so caught up in the lie you’ve spun for yourself? “Finish it. Sooner, rather than later. Quit being masochists about it, just fucking put it to—”

Maker, your eyes instinctively snap to his at your poor choice of wording, having almost said bed on complete accident. Genuinely, you didn’t mean to phrase it that way, but at the same time, the thought of it almost burns you alive. Fuck. Dameron, and you, in bed. It could be mean. It could be rough. A fight for dominance more than anything. He’s bigger than you and he could make it fucking hurt, especially after going without it for as long as you have, but something about how double-edged that type of relief would be isn’t really sinking in for you right now. Like a person slowly dying of thirst that’s fantasizing about drowning. Regardless, the idea of a night with him and the sudden assortment of vivid imagery it provides is enough to get you to shut up and take a deep breath, just wait with your mouth shut for whatever his response is.

Unfortunately, you don’t have to wait long at all.

“This is cute,” he suddenly tells you, and you jerk back and sputter a bunch of consonants stupidly like he smacked you.

“Fuck you?” Are the first recognizable words that can be heard. “I’m not—this isn’t fucking— cute?”

“It’s cute,” Dameron repeats, hiding a soft smile from you with a few of his fingers pressed to his lips. “You,” he says as he points at your reflection, twirling his finger around in circles, “trying to be all sneaky about it, go about your little performance. It’s like… watching a little kid just blatantly fuck up a magic trick but they’re naive enough to think it’s working. Keep going, I’m enthralled.”

You hold still for just a second as ice suddenly sinks through your tummy and clears away any trace of warmth you may have once felt from before. Of course. Stupid. Stupid, you shouldn’t have even tried something like that, you don’t know why you thought…

Horrifyingly, you go dead silent and the lack of an immediate response from you hangs awkwardly in the still air. You’re usually so quick with him, so fiery, letting the things he throws at you just glide right off you, but for some insane reason, you’re actually fucking… embarrassed? A little bit?

You should say something, but your whole body is just frustratingly blank, almost buzzing in mortification, and it gets worse and worse the longer you stay quiet. You don’t usually put yourself in a position to be compromised, and you certainly didn’t think the place he decided to jab this time had particularly thin skin.

You… you’d forgotten what it’s like to have someone laugh at you when you’re genuinely trying your best to flirt.

Well, it’s too late to say anything now, you think. Now it’s just uncomfortable in here—true discomfort, not the typical angry silences. You’re used to that, you’re used to huffing and crossing your arms and ticking your jaw through the breaks in conversation, refusing to say a word because you’re beyond pissed off. This is different. This quiet sits different in the air, this emotion hits different in your chest, somewhere vulnerable. A crack in your armor he found without even necessarily intending to, but at this point, the stupid way you can’t seem to hide the wound from him is just as much to blame.

“So, uh…” Dameron clears his throat as you shut your eyes tight against the awkwardness, but you can still feel a strange little shift in the air from behind you. There’s something about the enclosed space, the quiet darkness surrounding you both, you feel… too close to him. Sharing his air, feeling the energy when it’s cramped and you’re not able to just get up and storm away from him like normal. You don’t like it. You don’t like that you can immediately tell something has changed without being able to see him, that type of intimacy between you is pushing a boundary you can’t quite pinpoint but know exists.

You snap your eyes open and look over at Dameron’s reflection when he’s quiet for too long, and though you try to glare as fiercely as possible at him while you do it, the look on his face almost stops you dead. The pure intensity raging in his expression, the way he’s got his eyes narrowed, flicking back and forth between yours, carefully studying you, wondering if perhaps he may have gotten it all wrong. “I mean, y’know. Theoretically speaking, and all. If I broke, you’d let me fuck you?”

You… aren’t expecting that.

You don’t know why but your heart suddenly starts to race again, but it’s not the same as before. Before it was speeding up and at an angle, like a rocket trying to escape a body’s gravitational pull, to go somewhere, search for something. This time it just feels like it’s ricketing downhill, unsteady and out of control, about to break apart with every single pothole that rattles and slams through you. Shit. You didn’t expect the ultimatum would be presented to you so up front like that—you thought there’d be… some resistance, at least.

Fuck, you take way too fucking long thinking about it, and your face feels warmer and warmer the more you mentally pick apart his specific phrasing, wondering where you should even begin. You still haven’t said anything, but the damage is already done. What should've been a firm, instantaneous go fuck yourself is left suspended, unanswered, open for interpretation. You miss your window of opportunity to shut him down, you overshoot it by a longshot, and then you feel that spark of a what-if flare deep down once more.

No, fucking stop it. Stop it. Maker, your eyes do everything they can to not look at him while you concentrate and work to tap into your anger, stoking the flames of your fire to avoid feeling… temptation. How dare he? How fucking dare he do this to you, especially when there’s no chance to get out of here, to abort mission and cut your losses? You clench your jaw and isolate that fury, magnify it until it’s the only thing you can feel anymore.

“My turn now,” Dameron eventually breaks the silence to clarify, blinking at you, and by this point you’re so fucking pissed off that you don’t recognize that isn’t actually a question.

“No,” you immediately snap, strung far too thin to deal with this new, treacherous territory with him. Defaulting to normal is best, it’s easier. “No, it’s not your turn, and fuck no, you can’t fuck me, not even if it means I win this stupid bet. No to everything that has anything to fucking do with you, alright? Don’t talk to me. You’re lucky if I agree to sleep in the same fucking room as you tonight. And—and?—I think your beard looks dumb.”

Okay, so maybe the last part was just a little bit childish, but you’re in such a bad fucking mood and you want to insult something he’s clearly just trying out for right now, hasn’t yet solidified as part of his usual appearance and unshakeable confidence in it. It’s a downright lie—you think he might look more attractive with it than he ever has. Effortlessly rugged and masculine, framing his face and making his eyes all the more piercing.

You don’t think it works, but regardless, he heeds your sharp words and says nothing for a good few minutes at least. You had hoped the break in interaction would allow you the ability to reset a little bit, give yourself time to work through it, but it’s like the pressure in the air steadily increases regardless of how silent it is in here—or perhaps, because of it.

You can’t help it. You flick your eyes to the transparisteel in front of you once more and catch his reflection staring directly at you, unmoving. It jars you as much as it sparks your anger, and you glare down at your hands and give him a few seconds. A few seconds of grace, of mercy, before you try again.

Sure enough, he’s still got his dark eyes pinned to you when you go to check once more, like he’s actually fucking thinking about something right now, which is just… astounding, for obvious reasons. Mainly, the nerve of him. The fucking nerve of him to be able to look at you like that, like he’s just entitled to study your every feature, searching your eyes for things you’ve never looked deep enough to find within yourself, making incredibly loud assumptions with his mind that he has absolutely no right to be making.

“Shut up,” You snap at him defensively, feeling like you’re sweating buckets even in the freezing emptiness of dead space. You can’t figure out if it’s a cold sweat or if your body is legitimately just malfunctioning under his stare. “Shut up.”

You watch as his reflection suddenly drops his head back against the seat and rolls out the stiffness of his neck, blinking his eyes shut and raising his eyebrows like you’re completely overreacting, like he has absolutely no idea. “I didn’t say anything.”

“You’re not that dumb,” you challenge. “You’re… plotting. Evil plotting.”

A thick eyebrow drops so that only one is quirked up, and a grin pulls at his lips.

“You’re right,” Dameron admits casually after a moment with his eyes still closed, his voice pitched low in the cramped ship. “I was thinking about what it’s gonna take to get you to lose.”

You swallow against the dryness in your throat, starting to unintentionally bounce one of your legs up and down without even realizing it. Fuck, this ship is small, it’s too fucking small in here—you gaze wistfully out at the vast endlessness of space, wanting to grit your teeth at the irony of being surrounded by the one thing you so desperately wish you had.

“I just have to find a weakness,” he shifts forward in his seat and reveals to you, bewilderingly shameless in his honesty. Like all of a sudden you’re an accomplice to this endeavor instead of its target, as if he isn’t spoiling the secret by letting you in on it. “Something that you like, that gets you going. Something that riles you up, gets you all hot and bothered down there—”

“So you can exploit it,” you huff, slouching over a bit and trying not to sound like you’re pouting.

“—so I can exploit it,” he finishes happily, collapsing back into his seat like he’s glad you caught on so quick and he doesn’t have to explain further. “Now we can do the whole routine—the bickering, the tension, the undeniable sexual chemistry we have—or we can skip all that and you can just tell me flat out what it’s gonna take to rev that pretty little engine up, because I want it purring.”

And, it’s so fucking weird, because the specific verbiage that would normally make you cringe just hearing it spoken aloud doesn’t inspire the typical response, even though it feels like it should. It feels like you should be grossed out, it feels like a moment you should screw up your facial expression and act offended, but you’re… not. This is actually fucking working, it’s unbelievable. The undeniable fact infuriates you just as much as it stumps you.

“You do realize that everything you say is a game that two can play at, right?” You point out, not really sure where you’re going with this but feeling heated about it all the same. “What’s stopping me from exploiting something you like?”

“See now that’s a great idea,” Dameron announces, clapping his hands together happily and sending you jumping a few inches in your seat at the sudden sound, your hand automatically shooting up to rest on your thumping heart. “I can tell you what I like, and you can just listen.”

Alright, no, wait—backtrack—

“How about I tell you what I don’t like,” you snip breathlessly, tucking your hair behind your ear and feeling all the blood rush to your cheeks. Default to normal, default to normal. “Your fucking attitude. Your demeanor. The way you talk down to me. You don’t listen. You walk around like you’re such hot shit just because you’re a good pilot but none of that means anything when you don’t ever fucking listen. You’re terrible at it, doesn’t matter who’s talking—you don’t listen to me, you don’t listen to people who actually like you, you don’t listen to orders, you don’t listen to reason—”

“You think I’m a good pilot?” He suddenly asks, and you have to take a second. This cockpit isn’t designed for anything other than sitting, much less turning all the way around, but you’re sure you can find some way to throttle him from here. He chuckles as you let out the loudest sigh you’ve ever heard yourself make—which, is an incredible feat you think both of you should be congratulated for—before Dameron eventually carries on. “You could tell me that,” he admits with a shrug, a hidden smile on his face that he’s trying to bite back. “Or you could tell me the truth.”

You shouldn’t encourage him, but you just can’t fucking help it. There’s something inside you, something you can only compare to a morbid sort of curiosity. Maybe you’re just a glutton for punishment, even more so than agreeing to this bet has already confirmed. “And that would be—?”

“That you use anger as a defense mechanism because I touch a nerve you didn’t realize you had,” Dameron replies breezily. “Have since the moment we met. And that you maybe want me to touch something else, but you’re too stubborn and proud and committed to hating me to ever admit it. You can admit it, it’s okay, I can touch whatever you need me to tou—”

“How about the emergency eject button?” You hiss, finally feeling your frustration peak. “Pop the top on this bitch. Put me out of my fucking misery, right now. You’ve got such a big head that the blood flow will probably keep your tiny little brain warm enough as long as you strap yourself down beforehand, I’ll wait. And then you can go back to base, alone , and find another poor girl to emotionally torture since you probably don’t get enough of it from the ones you work your way through but can never remember the most basic things about.”

Remarkably, that actually shuts him up. You’re doubtful the jab really hurts him, but you’re not going to feel bad about it either way. He deserved that. You cross your arms over your chest and don’t even bother looking at him, huffing and flushed with the climax of your ferocity, now left feeling strangely exhausted in its wake. Eventually your breathing evens out and disappears into the silence, until nothing at all can be heard.

It’s like that for a moment—only a moment, before the loud tearing of velcro suddenly shreds through the quiet in the cockpit, completely rattling you. Automatically your eyes shoot over to his reflection, watching large hands pull the orange jumpsuit apart at his chest and then shrug it over broad shoulders. It’s not sexual. It can’t be sexual, because there’s just no fucking room to allow it—it takes him forever to pull the long sleeves down his arms, but the way he drags it out somehow just increases your anticipation for an event you should have absolutely no interest in spectating. He’s wearing a white sleeveless undershirt underneath and the jumpsuit bunches at his waist, making him look all the longer and more defined as he finally collapses back into his seat and reclines in it, the distant constellations bathing his lean torso in dim speckles of starlight.

Your gaze catches on every good part of him—it falls down the muscular lines of his neck and follows the thin gold chain wrapped around it, disappearing into the white of his scooping neckline. His toned body finds a place to rest and stretch out without looking awkward or uncomfortable, coarse hair darkening his jaw and dusting the strong lines of his forearms—but it’s his eyes that make your heart stutter. They’re endlessly deep and dark and knowing , and you can’t seem to look away from him, not even when he opens his mouth to address you.

“You’re always so fucking mean to me,” Dameron remarks, and for just a split second—just a split second, you feel a stab of regret. “I should eat you out tonight.”

Fuck, he hits the nail right on the head on his very first try, and just hearing the words come out of his mouth so effortlessly makes your pussy clench in on itself in need. Nothing about his inflection changed from one sentence to the next, nothing in his voice made it seem like he just flipped the fucking galaxy upside down with just a few words. To an onlooker who doesn’t speak Basic, they’d have absolutely no hint as to why your face is suddenly radiating heat at an industrial capacity, blazing hot enough to warm the whole cockpit. You feel like you’re literally burning up with it. You have to put a palm to your cheek to make sure it’s not actually on fucking fire. “What— what did you just say to me?”

“That’s what you need,” he drawls, unbothered by the sharpness of your tone. “What you’ve needed, ever since I can remember. Should’ve done it a long fucking time ago, now that I’m thinking about it. How long’s it been? Tell me the truth, I know it’s been awhile.”

You feel like you’re being roasted alive like one of those hairy little Kowakian monkey-lizards that you’re pretty sure have sentient designation but are the first to be skewered and cooked over the firepit regardless. Your heart is slamming against your sternum and you scramble to come up with an even slightly clever response after such an ambush.

“This is your plan?” You raise an eyebrow at him, feeling a bead of sweat drop down your temple and onto the corner of your lashes. Oh fuck, be cool, be cool. “You think this is gonna work? Ask me if I want a weak orgasm and rugburn on my thighs?”

“I can shave,” Dameron proposes quietly, lifting his chin and gently scrubbing the side of his cheek. The sound of the thick bristles against his fingers makes you swallow thickly and push back very vivid thoughts of how his face would feel between your legs. How soft and wet his mouth would feel at the center of that thick, coarse beard. “Tonight, I’ll shave it off. Make it nice and smooth for you.”

Something inside you surges up to assure him he absolutely should not shave, and you actually have to bite your tongue to keep it buried at the last second. Stars, that was a close one, what the fuck prompted that?

“I don’t give a shit what you do,” you quickly return, resisting the urge to wipe your brow. “Beard or no beard, makes no difference. Foreplay is overrated, I’m not big on wasting time.”

“Oh, you poor thing,” he immediately laments—so quick , and the worst part is that the sympathy in his voice actually sounds sincere. You’re having trouble looking him in the eyes right now, hearing the genuine pity come through in his tone. “Who… who did this to you?”

“You said you want to figure out what I like, what turns me on,” you return, tucking your hair behind your ear once more and trying not to sound self-conscious. Maker, how long until your shift is over? You need to get out of here, this shit is… way out of your league. “I’m not into it, so try again.”

“Really?” Dameron takes a moment to look at you, furrow his thick eyebrows at you in barely concealed curiosity, before his head tilts sideways and drops to his shoulder. “Normally I’d respect that, but I meant it when I said you need it.”

“We fucking hate each other, Dameron,” you hiss, a reminder to him as much as it is to yourself. Fuck, you really don’t like where this is going. “You don’t know anything about me, you don’t know what the I n—”

“I bet you think we’d fuck hard,” he murmurs, low enough that you have to take an unsteady breath and physically brace yourself for whatever is going to come from that dirty mouth next. “You think that maybe I’d throw you around a little, give it to you from behind, teach you a fucking lesson for always talking back to me. But that’s primitive shit, Gold-Ten, that’s not for you.”

Resist. Resist . You’re part of the fucking Resistance, for Maker’s sake, you’re taught to hold out until death in torture scenarios. Since when did this tin can suddenly become a new POW camp simulation you have to train for?

“I want to take you apart so slow that you can’t talk at all,” Dameron continues quietly, and you close your eyes, biting your bottom lip hard enough to sting. “We don’t even have to fuck—I mean, I want to, but mostly I just want to taste you. Go nice and slow. I want you on your back, so I can look in your eyes and see all that anger just… fade away. I want to watch you try to fight how fucking good I’ll make it. How hot it’s gonna be when you can’t glare at me anymore, when your pretty doll eyes go all soft and sweet and you finally realize that I’ve never hated you at all.”

Maker. This is a trick. It’s not a question, it shouldn’t be presented like one—this is a dirty rotten trick , and you’re not gonna fall for it. You can’t fucking fall for it. It’s a low blow, and you refuse to even acknowledge he said anything at all. He’s lying to get your guard down. He laughed at your flirting. He’s a shit person, he’s using you, this isn’t real.

Real or not, you still gulp loud enough for him to hear it.

“We could go back to our room after our shift is over,” he offers out of the blue, and you have no clue why, but when he pauses and lets it hang in the air for a second, you don’t interrupt him. You stay completely silent while he waits for you, waits for your typical snarky comeback. You have it in your head instantly, you know what you’d normally say. Your room. It’s not ‘our’ room, it’s fucking your room that you’re generous enough to let him bunk in, a privilege he’s this fucking close to losing—but you can’t find it in yourself to say it right now. Your anger is gradually losing the war to your arousal and you’re forced to watch every single small defeat inside you happen from the sidelines.

His reflection blinks at you through the transparisteel, his eyebrows raising just slightly at your prolonged silence, before he suddenly sits up a little and leans forward.

“And I could lock the door,” Dameron continues, lowering his voice, both in volume and register. “The lights in there are way too fucking bright but I don’t want to be in complete darkness, so maybe we can turn them off and open the port shade, let just enough light come through to see. I could turn on the radio, find something quiet, easy to listen to. Something you like, I’ll let you pick it out. And then… Wait, hang on, which bed?”

You clench your jaw and purposefully say nothing even as your pussy squeezes, glaring right through his reflection into the black void of space.

“Mmm. Your bed,” he eventually decides. “I want you comfortable. You shower at night. Your hair will be wet and you’ll be in those baggy pajamas that you think I can’t see your nipples through, the ones that I know you take off under your covers and then put on in the morning when you think I’m still asleep. That’s good, I want you relaxed, so that maybe… maybe you’d let me take your panties off at some point. And you could lay back and open your legs, and I could go down on you for a little while. However long you need.”

Fuck.

No, this isn’t fucking happening. Your lower muscles aren’t twisting in so hard that it actually fucking hurts, your pussy isn’t leaking through two layers of fabric under your jumpsuit, your body isn’t outright revolting against the sheer neglect you’ve put it through. Maker, it’s fucking painful. You have to clench your hands into fists and dig your fingernails into your palms before you can open your mouth.

“You want to know what I need?” You nearly wheeze, a drop of sweat sliding down the back of your neck this time. Your body feels like it’s three sizes too big for this cockpit and your skin feels like it’s three sizes too small for your body. “I need you to shut the fuck u—”

“What you need,” Dameron purrs, sliding up closer behind your seat and sighing soft against the worn material of your headrest, “is a warm mouth to cum in. Don’t be shy, pretty baby, you can tell me.”

You growl out his last name as threateningly as you possibly can before he purrs yours right back in your ear, and fuck, you’ve never heard it sound so sexual before. Last names allow pilots to maintain a respectful distance from each other. Flight designations are Resistance-wide, but last names are just… allies. Not friends, not companions, but a vast network of people brought together by a common enemy. It hurts to lose a first name. But the way yours sounds rolling off of Dameron’s tongue is just too sinful, too intimate when calling you that is meant to sever intimacy by design. He says it slow and makes it dirty, muddies it in the back of his throat as he slides up even closer to you, until his face is right next to yours as you stare at each other through the transparisteel.

“I’m really…” he pauses, before exhaling through his nose and swallowing thick enough to make his Adam’s apple drop and bounce up again, his tongue coming out to wet his plush lips as he blinks slowly at you with a heavy gaze, “… really good at it. Call me Poe and I’ll do it for you all night.”

Shit, your pussy is just a fucking mess right now. It feels like it’s melting sweet and syrupy all over your thighs, throbbing and pounding and clamping up and screaming at you to do something, at least press your hand down there to alleviate some of the aching tensi—

No— stars, no touching yourself is rule number two. You drop your hands to your thighs and squeeze them, trying to reign yourself back in.

“I think you’re—just projecting,” you try, but turns out responding in general is just an all-around bad idea. Nothing about it comes out right. The ‘just’ sounds like your tongue is stuck to the roof of your mouth and your voice cracks on the word ‘projecting,’ but you don’t even have time to be self-conscious or embarrassed at how much you’re giving yourself away—all your energy has to go towards fighting the tightness between your open legs, how you’re so fucking turned on that you’re worried you’ll cum without even touching yourself. Oh Maker, can you imagine? How fucking proud of himself he’d be? You can’t let that happen, but fuck, holding back something so appealing is so much harder than it sounds.

Tap into that anger, tap into that anger—only, you can’t suddenly find it. Where’d it go? Fuck, doesn’t matter, conjure it. Quick, before it’s too late, get mad —don’t let him lure you into a… a false…

Dameron tilts his chin down towards the line of your shoulder and then slowly turns his head towards your neck, breathing you in gently.

A false sense of…

His soft exhale makes goosebumps break out all the way down your arms.

… What?

“Maybe you’re right,” Dameron acknowledges, talking just under your ear. You watch his eyelids dip and the dark beard brushes against your skin and you catch just a hint of that woodsy, spicy scent engulfing you. Like… teakwood, maybe? Stars, you don’t know, you think you’re starting to lose your mind. What the fuck does teakwood even smell like? “Maybe it’s just what I need. You should exploit it, chances are I’ll still cum first.”

That rockets another painful spasm down low. It hurts so fucking bad—fuck, maybe you could… rub yourself up against these weapons controls? Just a little bit? That joystick, right there, just ease yourself up against it just to nurse this wound a little bit…?

No, fucking— bad. That’s bad, you have to stop—

“This isn’t real, this isn’t—y-you just…” You flutter your eyelashes shut, digging your fingernails into your thighs like it’ll help break through the fog of his lulling voice, how fucking amazing he smells right now. “You just want to win th-the b—”

“ Fuck the bet,” he tells you quietly, his head dipped low enough now that his lips brush against your neck, and you shudder so hard at the sensation that your shoulder almost knocks into his chin with it. “You really think I’m doing all this for a fucking bet?”

Don’t trust him, don’t trust him, don’t—

Your deep breath is so stuttery and uneven that it’s technically just a series of shallow inhales all anxiously strung together, too desperate for oxygen to go about it legato. It’s painfully obvious to him by now, it has to be, but you very quickly miss the shaky breathing as soon as he takes away your ability to do it all together.

“Let me taste you,” he whispers, his voice almost breaking with how gentle it is, how it sounds like it flips in and out of his register when he speaks this low. “Right now, let’s make it real, let m—I know you have to be soaking fucking wet, baby, just let me try a little bit of it, please—I’m… holy shit, I’m so hard just thinking about it.”

“You c-can’t,” you stammer, reaching up to pinch the bridge of your nose in frustration. At him, at the situation, at the painful throb of emptiness between your legs. “Fuck, it’s not allowed, it’s against the rules—”

“It won’t be,” he assures you, and you hiccup when you suddenly feel his hand brush against your side, strong fingers branching out to curve against your ribcage. “You don’t have to do anything, you can stay just like this. Just a few seconds and then I’ll stop, I promise.”

Oh, Maker, it’s on the very top of your tongue, so unbelievably close to telling him something—but you don’t know what it should be. You’re right at the tipping point, on a tightrope right between what you want and what you should want. And, knowing you’re this close to giving in, Dameron slowly eases his hand down your side and starts to trail it inwards, and just the lightest brush of his warm tongue against your neck shatters any composure you have left.

You whimper and instinctively try to close your legs, but you fucking can’t— your knees are forced wide apart by controls and your whole body freezes when his hand slides down and folds gently along the curve of your pussy through the thick fabric of your jumpsuit.

The feeling of being held like this by him is just too good , cradled so perfectly in his palm as he opens his mouth and flutters his tongue out to taste your skin again, giving you a little more of it this time and letting you feel the roughness of his beard with the way his lips move. Your breath catches, then he hooks his fingertips up just the slightest bit and pulls back, and you suddenly have to smack your whole hand over your face in a terrible attempt to stifle your loud gasp.

“Oh, Maker, I c-can’t,” you stammer against your fingers, not being able to trust him or your own body. You continue to protest even after he moves back up, resting his palm low on your abdomen, letting the heat bleed through the fabric and transfer directly to your floor muscles as he lifts his head up from your shoulder. “I can’t, we can’t, I…”

You can’t see him, but you know he’s looking at you. He’s staring right at you through the reflection, studying the way you’re hiding your face from him, how you’re still melting, still losing your composure just from the warm palm pressed tight your tummy.

His touch leaves you for a second. But then the deafening sound of velcro ripping at the crotch of your jumpsuit has you dragging your hand down your mouth and your eyelids dipping.

“Dameron,” you breathe into your fingers, just as his carefully slip into the small opening and begin to work at the button to your pants. “Dameron, this isn’t—you don’t want—”

“You don’t get to tell me what I don’t want,” he grunts at you, and you try not to bite yourself at the sound of him unzipping things and yanking fabric to the side. “What I really fucking want is the real thing, but I guess this’ll have to do for now.”

“I—” Your mind whirs desperately, trying to process when his fingers wedge under your panties and down. But he doesn’t give you a single fucking second. As soon as the tip of his middle finger reaches your slit, he’s dropping it and sliding it through your slick, hot, unbearably neglected cunt.

“Fuck,” he spits, and you feel like you might be about to break your own fucking jaw with how hard you’re clutching it, trying so desperately not to make a noise. The pad of his finger is rough and calloused as it drags against your clit in slow, tight circles, and you clamp your eyes shut and try to breathe normally, but it’s no use. Fuck , it’s been so long . You’ve been aching for it for a full fucking month and a half now and you know that even if he couldn’t feel it, he can hear how drenched you are right now. It’s making an obscene sound as he steadily masturbates you with one heavenly finger, giving your body what it’s desperately craved for so many weeks. “Fuck, baby’s pussy got fucking wet hearing me talk about how good I’d lick it, huh?”

That sends a bright flare launching through you and you gasp raggedly, both hands whipping out to snatch at his forearm where it disappears between your legs. “No, shit, wait, stopstopstopstop stop , I—”

His hand slips out immediately and yet you continue to tremble like his finger is still right there, like your clit is just imagining it so vividly that it’s successfully convincing itself of the illusion. The aching bit of flesh is burning, that good burn, the one that’s searing and bright that makes your muscles continue to chase the sensation long after the stimulation is gone. Fuck, he almost made you cum. He barely touched you for a few seconds and yet your fingers have to tighten into claws to slow your body down the fuck down, flexing against your thighs and trying your best to halt the impending climax.

By the time you’re able to wrangle yourself back from the edge and look at his reflection, his middle finger is already in his mouth and he’s blinking slowly at you, his pupils blown wide. You’re breathing hard at him, staring open-mouthed at the way his lips are closed below his second knuckle, how he takes forever dragging it back out again. You have to close your eyes. You have to clamp them shut and keep them that way, knowing you won’t be able to look at him through whatever he’s going to say next.

Except, oddly, he doesn’t say much.

“Shit,” he breathes, dropping his mouth to your neck once more. “Shhhit. I…”

Your eyes snap open in sudden, blind panic when he doesn’t continue, horrified at the possibility that he doesn’t like it. Dameron always has something to say, he doesn’t go speechless. “Oh—Maker, is it not—?”

“Mmmfuck, just—” he grits, panting hot air against your skin, “—fuck. Give me a second.”

You can only see the crown of his head with the way he’s angled, but you can see his shoulders a little further back. They start… moving slightly. Just the littlest bit, a smooth motion, like his whole body is slowly easing back and forth—

The nav controls are between his legs, you immediately realize. He’s grinding up against them with how close he is to you and your seat.

And suddenly, it’s like there’s a light at the end of the tunnel. A ray of sunshine that breaks through the raging storm. Dameron might cum in his pants like this. Which means you’ll win, and arguably more importantly, you’ll finally be able to cum. You don’t even take a moment to consider the potential consequences—how you’re going to have to withstand the stimulation until he succumbs to it, how you’ll have to outlast—but you’re not thinking straight. You’re not really thinking at all.

“You can…” you suddenly hear yourself whisper, and your heart pounds in your throat when he instantly stops moving. “One… one more. If you want. You can put your finger inside this time, it’s where I’m the… w-wettest.”

“Fuck,” Dameron croaks into the crook of your neck, his voice scraping low and rough and sending a tremor through you. “Fuck, okay, yeah—”

His hand slides across your hip and down, but you catch him just in time.

“But don’t touch my clit.” You try to sound as firm as possible through the breathlessness, still trying to put your foot down even when you’re giving in, and Dameron’s teeth come out as he stifles a soft groan into your neck in response.

“Yes, baby,” he murmurs obediently as his hand sinks down once more, and so diligently, he avoids it altogether. His fingers slide under your panties and fall straight down to your entrance, down to where you know you’re the hottest, where your pussy is flexing and pushing wetness out with a steady, wicked throb. The pad of his middle finger presses gently against the tight muscles there, rubs just the slightest bit to feel that resistance, and then the length of it eases inside you so slowly that your knees rattle against bulky metal.

“Fucking Maker , ” he hisses as he slides it in, his body making a sudden jerk against the controls.

Your eyes roll back at the feeling of something inside you after so long, after such a torturous buildup, and you grasp at his forearm again when it curls naturally up against searing pleasure. Oh, it’s so good, it’s so good, your hands shake while he very carefully moves it in and out, the raw sparks of heat threatening to incinerate you as your muscles cling to every ridge of his finger. He gets it sopping wet, bathes it so completely in your slick that you’re almost certain it’ll come out pruny and drenched.

“Shit, okay,” you pant, squeezing desperately around his finger, “o-okay, fuck, that’s enough.”

His hand pulls out… slower this time. He slips his finger out of you quick enough, but he drags the tip of it through your folds as he retreats, just barely grazing your clit and making you jolt in your seat. Shit, you don’t know if it felt intentional enough to fault him for it—mostly it just excites you, thrills you to have him edge you like this without really needing to put any effort at all into it.

Dameron lifts his head to sink his finger deep into his mouth once more, and you tremble as you watch him enjoy it, staring at the way his shoulders seem to relax as soon as your taste is on his tongue, how his face goes soft with it and he almost slumps.

Relief. Genuine, not embellished. He still doesn’t say anything after he slowly slides it out and blinks at you, no sugar sweet drawl telling you how amazing you taste, no candied words to make you give in and let him have another go. You’re both breathing hard at each other, staring, waiting to see who will break first.

Stars, you… fucking like this. You want him to keep going, but you can’t offer it again. It’s just too exposing, too revealing to let him you’re actually really fucking enjoying this, you can’t—

“Do you w—?” Your voice automatically comes out through the silence without your permission, sounding just absolutely fucking wrecked by this point, but his palm is already slithering back down as soon as you speak, and you make the softest little submissive noise in your throat at him taking immediate initiative like that. He’s not as careful about it this time—his hand finds its target with less frill, his finger slides in quicker, sinking deep into your heat with little hesitation, lighting you on fire from the inside out, and you bite the meat of your thumb to stay quiet.

“Fuck, this is so hot,” he suddenly breathes next to your ear while your legs spasm and you gasp brokenly. “This is so—fuck, pretty baby letting me do this to her, I can’t fucking believe—”

Dameron eases a second finger inside you this time, letting you feel that delicious stretch from this angle, unable to lift your legs or shuffle around to help and subsequently resigned to simply experience it the way he gives it to you. Your teeth have probably permanently indented your bottom lip from how hard you’re clamped down, a testament to how much you’re trying to hold back the loud moan you miraculously haven’t released yet. Somehow it makes it sexier, not letting him hear you, not having your own noises to drown out the spark of urgency in his voice beginning to peek through.

Shit, it’s too much. You can only let him touch you a few seconds at a time before you feel that familiar tug towards mind-numbing bliss, and the more he does it, the more appealing that feeling then becomes. It’s teasing you, floating right in front of you and calling into question what could possibly be so bad about just reaching out to meet it? You could. You could cum right now. What’s two weeks of pay? You could cum all night long if you want, that is a thing you can do—

Quickly snapping out of your hypnotic downfall, your trembling hands snatch at his forearm once more, and Dameron, the fucker, drags his fingers slowly over your clit on the way out— so not accidental, not even close to it this time, but the sensation makes your hips stutter upwards and chase it nonetheless.

“Fuck you,” you groan at his audacity, your chest arching as you drop your head back, “I said don’t touch my—” but two wet fingers slipping past your lips and onto your tongue muffle the rest of your sentence. Your heart does half a somersault before slamming down early, the taste of your pussy filling your mouth as you automatically start sucking on them.

“None of that,” Dameron tells you softly, massaging his fingers along your tongue before pressing a sweet kiss under your ear. “Be nice. I’m being nice.”

You should bite him. Instead, you just close your eyes and mphh weakly around his fingers, your body sagging as you give into it and let him explore your mouth with them, your lower muscles cramping up in painful desperation even when he’s not anywhere near that part of your body right now. Your tongue even comes up to lick between them, swirl around them so soft compared to how hard you’re puffing through your nose.

Dameron slowly inches his fingers out, letting the tips of them rest against your bottom lip for just a brief moment, before his hand is moving again. Not down, but back and around, so he can open his mouth and taste you another way this time.

Shit, you feel like you’re dying. You need air. Your hands clench into fists and you use the back of one to wipe the sweat from the bridge of your nose while he takes his time sampling you like this. If anything, he looks just as blissed out as before, continuing to rub his crotch up against the solid metal between his legs and teasing you with it as much as he’s teasing himself.

“Maker, let me do this for real tonight, okay,” Dameron pants after dropping his fingers from his mouth, sounding like he’s fighting for his breath while you can’t find yours at all. Your eyes flick down to watch the way his hand disappears behind the chair to grab the controls and push his cock up against them even harder, how he drops his forehead to your neck like he just can’t fucking handle it anymore. “Fuck, I’ll shave, I’ll do anything you want, just let me—”

“Cum,” you gasp out before you can stop yourself, and there’s a moment after it where his hips suddenly stutter against the controls, and you both freeze.

Shit. Shitshitshit, did that actually work?

No, you very quickly realize, his body isn’t spasming like it would if he finally emptied his load after a month and a half. He’s just… holding there, his head buried in your neck, completely still.

You didn’t mean it like that. Well… fuck, you did, but you didn’t realize you’d be that reckless about it, that upfront about reissuing the challenge.

Dameron pulls back to look at you from the side this time, but it’s too cramped—he keeps his head turned facing you even as his eyes flick up to the transparisteel to take in the finer details of your features, the thin sheen of sweat on your forehead, and the slightly alarmed way you’re blinking back at him, worried you just shot your blaster at him in the midst of a mutual ceasefire and you fucking missed.

You see the understanding in his eyes instantly fall into place, and it’s not fucking good. Ohhhhhh no, it’s not good. Your chest starts rising and falling rapidly, suddenly registering the position you just put yourself in. Fuck, you didn’t think—you saw your opening, so clearly, you didn’t have time to think about the consequences.

“D-Dameron…” you try your best to placate.

“Don’t touch your clit?” He asks quietly, the raspiness of his voice ripping a hole through you while his hand suddenly shoves its way back down your body once more.

“Dameron,” you whimper, your heart stuttering in panic as you grasp weakly at his arm reaching between your spread thighs, “Dameron, this is—this is against the r-rules—”

“You keep saying that,” he comments, his fingers easily finding the opening in your jumpsuit no matter how hard you flex your thighs against bulky mechanics to try and close them. “How clearly do you remember the rules? What were the rules again?

You open your mouth to respond but his hand sliding under your panties and down just obliterates any chance you were going to attempt. No words, nothing comes out but a shaky whine as his finger sinks into your soaking heat, going right for the kill.

“Come on, baby, the rules,” Dameron reminds you when you never give him an answer. “Tell me. No fucking, no jerking off, and…?”

You suddenly struggle forwards in a last-ditch attempt at preventing the inevitable, hoping you can scoot up enough in your seat to escape his reach from behind. But fuck, your thighs have been shoved wide open for nearly eight hours—none of the muscles are working the way they should be anymore. There’s just enough room in front of you to get there and you probably would’ve been able to do it at the beginning of the shift, even with his hand between your legs like this, but you’re sluggish and your thighs pull sharp and urgent with the movement. The frantic maneuver enough to veer his fingers off course just slightly, moving one of your lips to the side at an angle, and you keep pushing against the pain no matter how useless it is.

“—No cumming,” he finishes for you, and his other hand is slithering up under your arm and groping one of your breasts through the jumpsuit before shoving you back tight up against your seat once more, totally helpless against it. “Probably have another fifteen minutes or so before our shift ends. Better hold it in, pretty baby, because this one is all you.”

“This—this isn’t fair, this is—” The second the slippery pad of his finger presses hard against your clit, you’re biting your lip to cut off a breathless whimper that slips out. “This is… is sab— sabotage— ”

“Oh, I know,” he moans next to your ear, mocking your high plea of distress with a fake, overly sympathetic whine. “Feels so fucking good though, doesn’t it?”

Fuck, it does. The build feels like an orgasm in itself, just working your way to it. You’re already so unbelievably close after just a few seconds of direct stimulation, an obvious consequence of originally agreeing to such a hardcore edging workout. You’re pouring sweat, so swollen and tight between your legs as you do everything you can to revolt against your body’s needs.

“Oh fuck, stop touching my clit—” you gasp raggedly, heart thundering in panic while your lower muscles start to immediately seize up, “oh—fuckfuckfuck— Poe, take your finger off m—”

Instead of doing it, his hand just slows down until the tip of his finger comes to a halt, maybe less than an inch over top of it. You still can’t catch your breath though, not when you feel yourself throbbing against absolutely nothing, the calloused pad holding perfectly still over the bundle of nerves. The swollen bud still arcs and flares at a steady frequency, building and building, and you choke out a wordless garble, absolutely fucking furious that this is what’s gonna make you cum.

“Don’t make me cum,” you switch up your sentence but not the terrified plead in your voice, the way it’s pitching up and out of control in the dead quiet of space. He doesn’t even acknowledge it. “Don’t make me cum, don—”

“Say it again,” he prompts instead, and lightning arcs up your spine.

“Poe,” you wheeze, the words coming from you without thought, your fingernails digging into his forearm even as your hips jerk up into his touch, “fuck, don’t make me cum, Poe—please don’t make me c—”

“But it’ll be so good,” he counters lowly, and your clit throbs in desperation at the richness of his voice when he speaks like this, saying things from deep in his chest. “It’ll be so fucking good when it happens. Stars, you’ll feel so much better, won’t you? Cum right now and I’ll give you as many as I can until we have to go home.”

“N-No,” you whine, feeling his teeth scrape at the crook of your neck. “No, I can’t—”

“Cum for me,” Dameron raises his voice, sharpening it into a direct order. “Right now. Come on— fucking make yourself lose.”

“But I—I—” you sob, starting to feel your body curl inwards, nearly about to succumb to the burning, the tightening, right on its last breath, “I-I don’t want to cum—”

“And I don’t fucking care,“ he hisses while your hands start flexing unintentionally, grasping helplessly at his immovable forearm where it disappears between your legs, the dark hair sliding under your fingertips as you claw desperately at it. “You’ll fucking cum when I tell you to cum and you’ll like it, you disrespectful, cock-deprived, bratty little—”

And then everything goes dark.

No, literally. The stars disappear.

The cockpit is suddenly shrouded in pitch blackness, and you’re almost certain it’s because you pass out, except then Dameron is all but ripping his hand out of your jumpsuit and cursing repeatedly in alarm. You crumple in on yourself, eyes clamped shut and not hearing anything, right at the peak of your ecstasy and ready to soar into the light completely unassisted, your muscles doing all the work on their own—

“—shit, they’re way too close—” you hear his voice shout, “—we have to turn the engines on—Gold-Ten, baby, turn the fucking eng—”

You’re almost there, you’re almost there, you’re gonna cum, you’re gonna fucking—

Your first name, roared out in startling, blinding panic.

You don’t often hear it. Just during roll calls mostly, but only if you’re flying with a different squadron and need a new temporary flight designation for the day. First names hurt. You can’t remember a time you’ve ever willingly told anybody yours.

Your head jerks up to look at his reflection but something else beyond the transparisteel takes immediate precedence. Your brain takes about two seconds to catch up before thundering terror slams through you and halts your previously inevitable orgasm in its fucking tracks. A runaway train about to launch off its tracks suddenly slamming directly into a megaton force-field of cold, hard fight or flight instincts.

A staggering fleet of First Order ships silently plunging out of hyperspace on all sides—your powered-down x-wing stationed right in the middle of the drop location.

***

Stay tuned for part two coming soon!!

#poe x reader #poe dameron #poe dameron x reader #SMUTTTT #reader insert #star wars #fanfic #the formatting on this one is downright horrendous but im so mad that i cant even fix it right now so thatll have to come later im sorry

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there-must-be-a-lock · 3 years ago

Text

Green (Bucky x Reader)

Word Count: ~3k

***Warnings*** : Graphic and explicit consensual non-consent. It’s all pre-negotiated roleplay, but it includes fighting, struggling, spitting, scratching, the whole nine yards.

A/N: The companion fic to Red. You do not need to read that first; this stands on its own. However, without that as an introduction, there’s no obvious indication until about two-thirds into the fic that what’s happening is consensual.

More on this in another note at the end, but thanks to @thoughtslikeaminefield @fangirlxwritesx67 @katwillrise @mskathywriteswords @cracksinthewalls @littlegreenplasticsoldier @stunudo and the rest of the Slack squad for helping me sort out my feelings about “dark” fic, and for being a safe space to talk through stuff like this. This was really fucking difficult for me to write, but I’m glad I did.

You do not have to be good. You do not have to walk on your knees for a hundred miles through the desert repenting. You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves.

- From “Wild Geese,” by Mary Oliver

It’s just like any other Friday night, until it’s not.

One moment I’m turning on the light in the entryway, hanging up my coat — next there’s a prickle down my spine, some primal reptile-brain instinct —

Run! Now!

— but there’s no time to recognize it for what it is. My body isn’t in the habit of being threatened; my body is tired and lazy, moving on autopilot through the comforting routine of Friday night. In the heartbeat between instinct and action, he pounces.

The hand over my mouth is metal: unyielding, unliving, chilling me down to my core, and if it wasn’t for the heat of the rest of his body all down my back, I wouldn’t assume he was human. His right arm is around my ribs, locking me in place, and it feels feverish in contrast but it’s trapping me as securely as if it was iron.

I can’t reconcile the cool metal against the human warmth, or the awful metallic tang mingled with the barely-there whiff of sweat. My mind is moving all jerky and slow. I can’t make sense of this.

Doesn’t matter, though, because I’m trapped anyway, like a wild animal in a snare. Trying to make sense of it won’t change the fact that vicious iron jaws snapped shut around me.

It was just like any other Friday night.

Panic clutches around my lungs all at once, adrenaline flooding in, and everything in me screams, fight back.

I thrash and squirm in his grasp, but he has my arms pinned down at my sides, and I’m small and helpless against the solid wall of muscle that is his chest. My raw strangled gasps come out as tiny hitched sobs, muffled by metal, barely audible in the still half-dark entryway of my apartment. He leans back, hefting me up so that my feet don’t quite touch the floor any more, like I weigh nothing, and takes a few steps away from the door.

“Don’t make a sound,” he snaps, before spinning me around, slamming me back against the wall and pinning me there with his metal hand at my throat.

Panic makes everything sharper. It’s too sharp, sharp like the shadows cast by the angles of his jaw and cheekbones, sharp like the way he’s watching me with pale hard eyes.

“Why — why are you here?”

He tilts his head, considering me.

“I was sent,” he says simply, in a low rasp of a voice.

“What do you want?”

Something cracks open in his eyes, like a tectonic shift bringing magma to the surface, and then the strangest expression spreads slowly over his features, fierce hunger and wild terror all at once. Fear splinters like lightning down my spine.

“Take off your clothes,” he says quietly. “Let me see you.”

I lash out with both hands, ready to claw at his eyes, but with his arm outstretched, he’s just out of my reach; when I scratch and slap at the metal wrist, he doesn’t even seem to notice, and when I strain against his grip, I only succeed in choking myself. Black spots dance across my vision, and I draw ragged wheezing breaths, clutching uselessly at the sleeve of his black leather jacket, still twitching and twisting feebly.

At least he can’t undress me with one hand, I think, for one absurd second.

Then his free hand twitches down to his side, and he’s raising a knife. Dark oxidized metal gleams in his fingers. I freeze, staring at the wickedly honed edge of it as he brings it closer, holding it up at eye level before lowering it slowly.

The tip hooks under the first button of my blouse, and when he flicks the blade upward, the fabric separates like it’s nothing. I barely dare to breathe as he cuts my shirt open, one button at a time, with surgical precision. The knife is so close to my skin that one wrong move could slice into me.

When the ruined remains of my blouse gape open, he lowers the blade, ready to cut through the waistband of my skirt, and my frayed nerves snap.

“Don’t,” I blurt out. “I’ll do it. I’ll cooperate.”

I unzip it, trying to step out of it without moving my head, still trapped by the constant silent threat of his fingers around my throat.

He sheathes the knife so that he can push my shirt roughly down my arms. My bra straps follow; he tugs them down my shoulders and reaches around to pop the clasp open, and when it falls, he pauses, licking his lips as he gazes up and down my body, taking in the revealed skin.

There’s a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes when they meet mine for a long, frozen moment. He draws a breath like he’s about to say something, and his grip loosens a fraction.

I’m not done fighting.

I spit in his face, and when he flinches, I wrench myself away, twisting out of his grasp, bolting down the hall toward the bedroom door.

Just as I wonder whether he’s reconsidered, whether he’ll let me go, he snarls, “You’ll regret that.”

I go down hard and fast when he tackles me, barely getting my arms out in time to break my fall, and the impact sends a flash of pain through one elbow but there’s no time to think about that — no time to feel it — not when I’m thrashing and kicking and squirming — but he’s too strong, too heavy — I almost writhe away but then he rolls me onto my back — pins me, sitting on my thighs — and my fists are swinging, flailing uselessly against his face and shoulders, but he doesn’t even seem to notice — and I let out a desperate sob as I realize I’m helpless again.

I want to scream, but there isn’t enough breath in my lungs.

He shuffles up on his knees until he’s straddling my waist, looming over me, blocking out everything else, and he snatches my wrists as I beat my fists against his stomach and chest. His lip curls, baring his teeth in a feral approximation of a smile, and he gathers my wrists together so he can hold them in the bruising circle of his metal fingers.

Flesh fingertips dig cruelly into the hinge of my jaw, forcing it open, and he leans forward to spit into my open mouth — something twists and clenches deep in my gut as I sputter and choke, skin crawling with disgust.

“Not so nice, is it?” he sneers, sitting back on his heels.

Worn black denim stretches over muscular thighs as he shifts, drawing attention to the fact that he’s hard — the thick shape of his cock is obvious, straining against the fabric.

My eyes snap back to his face, but it’s too late. He chuckles, throaty and smug, and then he rubs himself through his jeans, squeezing roughly, making it impossible to ignore his arousal.

“Is that what you want?” he asks — taunts — and I shake my head frantically, throat too tight to speak. He smirks and drops his hand to my chest, tweaking one nipple hard enough to make me yelp. He shrugs off his jacket, letting it fall, and light catches the dark metal plates of his arm.

Hot stinging tears well up and roll down my temples, blurring my vision, but not before I see his fingers on the button of his jeans, popping it open.

“No,” I choke out. “No. Please, please, please —”

He has to move to shove his jeans down, has to let me go for a moment — a fresh wave of adrenaline surges up with sickening speed, and I scramble back, twist, flop onto my stomach — it’s graceless and uncoordinated but I’m not giving in, not yet. I’m army-crawling out from under the cage of his body and I’m almost free — almost — but before I can get up on my hands and knees he’s yanking my panties down.

Panic rises to a crescendo.

I shriek — thin and pathetic even to my own ears — too frantic to even see straight, and then my breath is punched from my lungs as his hand slams down between my shoulderblades and crushes me to the cold hard floor. I curl an arm around my head protectively, burying my face in the crook of my elbow, and I whimper into the dark space it makes, trying to hide from what’s about to happen.

My body is vibrating with tension like a rubber band about to snap, every muscle clenched so tight it hurts, and when I feel the blistering-hot pressure of his cock between my thighs I almost snap.

“Struggle all you want,” he growls. “Won’t make a difference.”

And it doesn’t make a difference. He shoves, and after a split-second of resistance he’s slamming into me with skull-rattling force. He grunts as he grinds in, working himself into me as deep as he can be.

The weight lifts from my upper back, and I suck in a desperate breath, only to sob it out again as he braces himself on his left hand and tangles the right in my hair. It stings, but somewhere along the line I’ve lost the ability to feel pain as pain; it’s only another sensation, and it’s eclipsed completely by the flint-to-tinder flare as he starts to move.

I bite my lip so hard I taste blood, but I can’t hold back a moan.

It’s too much, too fucking much, he’s too big, wrenching me apart, taking up every bit of space inside me and forcing me to accept the intrusion. There’s no rational thought left beyond I can’t take this.

There’s nothing rational about it, though.

Something catches and sparks — ignites — and wildfire licks up my spine before bursting out through every inch of me. It’s going to burn me alive, and there’s nothing I can do about it.

There’s nothing wrong with it, I try to tell myself, but shame slithers through my belly anyway.

I’ve never been this wet in my entire fucking life.

I’m breathing fast and panicked, I’m naked and squirming on the gritty floor, and it’s humiliating, and it hurts… but friction is friction, and my traitor of a body is slick and eager even though my rational brain is screaming for it to stop.

“Stop,” I choke out. “Stop, don’t —”

“Don’t what? Don’t make you come? Don’t make you admit how much you like this? Not fightin’ back any more, are you?”

I sob and shudder, squeezing helplessly around him. “Please.”

“Shit, can feel you gettin’ close — gotta see this,” he says, panting harshly, and then he’s pulling out, grabbing at my shoulder to flip me onto my back.

He hooks an arm up under my knee to open me up and drives in deep again, and I spasm around him, spine arching so forcefully my head slams back against the floor. He’s wild-eyed and wrecked, but he stops for the space of a jagged-edged inhale, pausing, slack-jawed with shock when I look dazedly up at him.

“Green,” I breathe, and slap him across the jaw with a crack.

He moans and surges forward all at once, hips snapping down, and the pleasure-pain coils tighter inside me, ratcheting up to new impossible heights.

I’m not going to stop fighting — not now, not ever, no matter how good it feels. I hit and scratch and claw, and when my nails catch on his cheek he gasps, rhythm faltering for the first time.

He’s scorching-hot, steely-hard, every thrust a solid filthy smack against my skin, a vicious stretch pushing me to my limit — and it hurts, it hurts, but the adrenaline makes the pain feel faint and distant, and the pleasure is raw and immediate and building (faster by the second) into something inescapable.��

I can feel it starting to overwhelm me. My muscles are seizing up, but I’m fighting back on pure animal instinct, still. I grab him by the throat with one hand, pull his hair with the other, and his face is the last thing I see before my world dissolves: cheek bleeding from a rough scratch, features contorted, mouth open in a wide red O that’s somehow, unmistakably, a smile.

Bucky is breathing just as hard as I am, when I swim to the surface again.

We’re both drawing deep wet gulps of air, gasping on each exhale. I twine my arms around his neck limply, resting one palm between his shoulders so I can measure the rise and fall of his lungs.

I can’t bring myself to open my eyes, but I feel everything: every little tremor and twitch that goes through him, the slick warm tickle of aftershocks as he starts to go soft inside me. His face is buried against the side of my neck, and his right hand cups my cheek, so very gentle, thumb stroking my temple and wiping away tears. He kisses me softly where my pulse hammers under the skin.

My heart is racing, beating against my ribs like a wild bird caught in a cage, but my head seems very far away from the mess of my body.

I whimper when he pulls back, but he doesn’t go far, not yet — I can hear the barely-there rasp of fabric as he shifts.

“Can’t believe you’re still wearing pants,” I mumble, slurring like I’m drunk.

“Wearing is a generous word,” he says flatly.

It’s a weak impersonation of his usual deadpan snark, but I let out a cracked giggle, and for a hysterical second I’m not sure I’ll be able to stop giggling.

Bucky whispers, “Gonna get you up now, okay?”

He slides his hand under my head, cradling the back of my skull, and kisses my sweaty forehead before gathering me in his arms. He sits up carefully, pulling me against his chest and letting me burrow into the soft cotton of his t-shirt.

Then there’s a disorienting swoop of motion that means he’s standing up. I feel fragile and strange as he walks, like something inside me will break if it’s jostled, but I trust him to keep me safe. He nudges the barely-open bedroom door with his hip, easing us through it, and behind my closed lids the quality of the darkness changes as he steps toward the soft golden glow of my bedside lamp.

“Not going anywhere, just going to put you down for one second,” he warns me.

The comforter is already pulled back when he settles me on the bed, and he pulls it up around me, wrapping me up.

“Water,” he says quietly, holding the glass to my lips, and I sip carefully. “Juice? Something sweet?”

I shake my head. “Not yet.”

He steps back. I hear the soft thump of his shirt and jeans dropping to the floor, the click of his dog tags as he puts them back on, and then he’s sliding into bed next to me. I shift closer and trace the chain around his neck, touching the familiar imprint of letters in the metal.

My swollen lids are heavy when I open my eyes, and they sting when I finally look up at him, taking in his puffy parted lips and the red line of dried blood on his cheek where I scratched him. It’s already healing, it’ll be gone within a couple hours, but I brush my finger over it anyway, making an apologetic face.

“It’s okay,” he says softly. He clears his throat and swallows hard. “I’m the one who — I’m so sorry.”

I shake my head. “Don’t apologize. You have nothing to be sorry about. It was…”

I don’t know how to finish that sentence; I shrug, helpless, dizzy with the enormity of getting exactly what I wanted — of getting what I never thought I’d be able to ask for, let alone have.

His lashes are wet, his eyes shining in the low light, and that’s when it really starts to sink in. I shiver, and then I can’t stop shivering, and I curl forward, burying my face in his chest.

It’s hard to believe that the world is still turning and even harder to believe that he’s still here.

“God, sweetheart, you were incredible,” he whispers, voice breaking, wrapping me up in his arms and kissing the top of my head.

Shuddery, convulsive sobs wrack my body, one after another, and I don’t try to hold them back even though they’re so powerful I’m afraid they’ll crack my ribs on the way out. The tears are nothing to be ashamed of. It’s more like they’re physical evidence of shame leaving my body, purging it with each ugly sound wrenched from my throat.

I never would’ve said it out loud if we hadn’t stumbled into his violent fantasies. There’s nothing wrong with you, I told him, and I sounded so sure, but I still had a hard time believing it about myself. My rational mind knew that it was natural… but it was like knowing that the person who grabbed me tonight was the same man holding me now — it was like knowing he would never hurt me, but feeling my body panic anyway.

Bucky holds me, crooning nonsense fragments against my hair, until it subsides.

I sit up enough to look at him, and I’m conscious of how blotchy and swollen my face must be, but I let him brush away my tears. I feel soft and raw inside where I’d been holding all that guilt. Everything is starting to ache.

“God, we’re a mess,” I say thickly. He lets out a huff of laughter.

“I love you,” he blurts out. His eyes go a little wide, like that wasn’t what he intended to say.

“I love you too,” I say, wobbly but warm, and I duck my head again, resting with my ear over his chest to hear his heartbeat.

His sigh is long and shaky.

“Yeah, we’re a mess,” he whispers. “Feels good though. Feels human.”

fin.

N.B: If you’ve spent any amount of time around my masterlist, you probably will have noticed that one of my favorite subjects is the shame people (especially women) frequently feel about sex in general and their fantasies in particular. I also really love writing enthusiastic consent, and so in a way this is very different from anything I’ve written before.

I have trouble with the way a lot of fanfiction seems to glorify coercive or under-negotiated dom/sub scenes, and most so-called “dark” fic is triggery for me in its oversimplification of things like rape fantasies; they’re normal and common and natural, but frequently the way they’re written has the same flat, male-gaze approach as a lot of exploitative porn, which I hate. Rape has never been a fantasy for me personally (although it has been an actual life experience) but my #1 fantasy is finding the sort of trust and partnership and support that would make this sort of roleplay emotionally safe. I also just felt compelled to tackle the challenge of writing about something that is often considered so shameful, and writing about it in a way that neither romanticizes or demonizes it.

So. Yeah. In case you need a reminder: don’t punish your body for what it wants.

(If you liked this, please reblog or leave a message?)

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader smut #bucky barnes smut #mcu #mcu fic #tw rape #tw: rape #consensual non-consent

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ozarkthedog · 4 years ago

Note

WAIT I THINK ITS A HICKEY TOO LMAO THATS HOT

Ok I change my answer to hickey cause I got this mental image-

Warnings: Smut ahead!

Chris ruts into you from behind, slapping into your hips with hard thrusts. Ass up and elbows down you bite into the sheets smothering your bliss.

He grinds his pelvis into your heat, pushing him deeper in your core as he slots himself over your back.

Chris licks up your lithe neck causing your toes to curl. “Spreadin’ you open so good, Kitten.”

He watches your face twist in pleasure as you gnaw at the white linen before tilting your head free of the cloth.

“Come here. Latch onto me instead. Want to feel that wicked tongue of yours on my skin.”

Your lips find the soft expanse of his inner arm and suckle softly while he shoves into your warmth with a lewd groan.

“You always need somethin’ in that pretty mouth to keep you satiated, huh Kitten?”

Chris picks up speed with every thrust making you mewl and vibrate under his assault.

He unlocks one of your hands from the sheets and lays it on your lower belly, “Feel that?”

A slight bulge protrudes from your skin signifying the thickness that lies within.

“That’s my cock splittin’ you open. Fuckin’ you so deep and rearrangin’ your insides.”

Your body convulses from his obscene words and the imagery of your core molding to the shape of his girth.

Your teeth clamp down on his flesh as you cum with a muffled shriek of rapture propelling his own orgasm to peak. He growls his release into your shoulder, painting your walls white.

After a few moments, Chris slides off of you falling onto the bed with a content huff.

You roll towards him drunk off the orgasmic bliss until you spot the red mark halfway up his forearm. “Oh shit. Chris, I’m so sorry.”

Chris trails his eyes down to where you’re looking spotting the reddish mark peppered with broken blood vessels.

“You just had to lay your mark on me.” He jabs, pulling you into his hold.

“I can see if my makeup will cover it before you have to leave.” You offer with a quiet, embarrassed tone.

“Are you kidding me? I knew what I was doing when I offered you my arm.”

You stare at him bewildered.

“What? I like people knowing that I’ve got a frisky gal at home.”

You shush him and smack his pec playfully, “Wont you be embarrassed?”

“Nope. I’ll just be thinking the whole time I’m out where I can lay my claim on you.” He says with a smirk, dragging his fingers up your naked frame.

(Edit: I now know it’s a scar.)

#chris evans #ozark responds #asks are always open #I wrote this over breakfast #is there something wrong with me?#chris evans x reader #chris evans smut #chris evans x you #chris evans imagine #chris evans/you #chris evans/reader #chris evans blurb #chris evans thots #chris evans headcanon #chris evans headcanons #ozark writes

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sxdmoonchxld · 4 years ago

Text

Proven Wrong | KTH

Taehyung x reader

Words: 4k+

Genre: smut

Warnings: Rough Sex, Oral Sex, Fingerfucking, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Cunnilingus, Begging, Multiple Orgasms, Very Big Dick Tae, Like Scary Big, Like Gut Splitting Big, Unrealistic Sex, Belly Bulge, Bad Dirty Talk, Unprotected Sex, Gets A Little Dubious Consent Towards The End

Summary: You call his dick small. He proves that it’s not, by wrecking your pussy ;)

a/n: again i use to be lizardsocial. this was my most popular story on here so im bringing it back as well. i think you can find the original one on here somewhere. i don’t expect it to get half as many notes it did the first time but thas okai. i’ve edited kinda heavily so it's a little different from the original. its filthier. anywhos. Enjoy!

__________________________________________

Loud music blasted throughout your apartment, the rumbling bass from the speakers reverberated through your bedroom walls. Pictures and posters rippled with each vibration, struggling to retain their original position. You groaned in annoyance, you honestly thought your request was quite simple. Just a couple of hours. 120 minutes of quietness was all you asked for so that you could study for your upcoming calculus test. He knew how important this exam was to you. He evened 'pinky promise, cross your heart hope to die'. That he would give you the silence needed to stay focused. And everyone knew you don't break a pinky promise.

Even now in your annoyance, his voice still played on a constant loop in your head.

"Oh! Yea ___, not a problem. I can keep it quiet for you. So don't you worry a hair on your pretty little head!" Taehyung had said, waving his hand in the air feigning nonchalance.

That cute signature boxy smile of his planted face. You actually thought that for once he would keep his word, and you could get some precious studying time, but no. The tiny 2-bedroom shared apartment was full of heavy jazz music and high-pitched shrieking from what sounded like a cat being skinned alive. Who even listens to jazz music when trying to fuck?

The last thread of patience had now been pulled too thin and finally snapped. Your desire to study was gone with the wind, and in its place, irritability and wrath began to take root. You slammed your laptop closed and threw it to the end of the bed along with your papers and textbook. Jumping out of bed, you stomped your way out of the bedroom, eyes searching frantically for your target.

"Taehyung!" You yelled once you began to process the scene that was in front of you. The living room was in shambles, Taehyung's phone was hooked up to the speaker, the volume loud enough you swore angels in heaven could hear. An empty soda bottle, chip bags and clothes littered the floor. Don't even get you started on the couch pillows! Your one of a kind thrift finds were strewn all over the place. You felt your blood pressure rising, the vein at your temple fattening in rage and pulsing wildly. Your jaw threatening to ache from how hard you were grinding your teeth out of anger.

Your eyes investigated the vicinity for Taehyung and low and behold there he was on the now bare couch. Lying underneath him was the source of the vexatious screeches. He was dry humping on some random chick with his mouth fiercely attached to her neck, deep purple bruises vivid from where you stood across the room. You rolled your eyes at the pair. You knew damn well Taehyung's thin lips and weak thrusts didn't call for all that useless screaming.

You stomped over to the speaker, your sock padded feet slapping against the hardwood floor, and yanked the cord from the wall. Already the apartment was halfway quiet except for the banshee that was still squawking her head off.

"Hey! Shut the fuck up with all that noise!" You roared, scaring the girl and finally bringing their attention to your heated figure. Taehyung separated his lips from the girl's neck with a wet smack dislodging himself from between her spread thighs.

"Y/n, so nice of you to join us. How is studying going?" Taehyung spoke with a grin plastered on his handsome face. You resisted the urge to reach out and slap it off. He knew that you couldn't or anybody for a fact, could study with all the noise that was just previously filling the confines of the apartment. Yet here he was playing with the smidge of patience you had left by trying to simulate naiveté.

"All I asked was for you to be silent so that I could study for my upcoming test, and you said that you would. But instead, I am interrupted by your noisy ass music. Jazz music at that and this bitch here screaming at the top of her lungs!" You growled out between clenched teeth. The female gasped at your words embarrassment transforming her features, while Taehyung sat there with a blank look on his face, apparently unamused with your little rant.

"Oh my! Please excuse my rude roommate Mino. Obviously, her parents forgot to teach her basic manners. Let me walk you to the door." Taehyung spoke his fluffy curls swaying with the shakes of his head. A look of disappointment aimed your way as he began helping her gather her things and walking her to the front door.

"Umm, actually my name is Mina." She corrected Taehyung, but you could see it on his face that he could care less about the girl's name. Taehyung looked at her for a few seconds, as if he was processing the correct information of the girl's name.

"Yeah. Mona, that's what I said, isn't it?" Taehyung deadpanned, pushing her through the front door. Mina huffed at the fact that Taehyung continued to get her name wrong. You observed the pitiful interaction as you began to clean up the mess they made. You could tell from the look in Mina's eyes that she wanted more with Taehyung, but you knew that would never happen. Taehyung was a manwhore, a fuckboy, man thot, whatever the preferred term was. He had a new girl every night, and if he did try the whole "relationship smorgasbord" as he called it. The relationship usually didn't last for more than a week, before he was on to his next conquest.

"Tae?" You questioned meekly.

"Hmm?" He hummed head-turning slightly in your direction.

"Why do you do these things to me." You were genuinely curious as to why he made it his mission to push your every button. This wasn't the first time his action has hindered you from completing an important task. You just didn't understand why he chose to make your life more complicated than it already was.

"Awe is little __ j-jealous?" Taehyung taunted in a high-pitched voice used to entertain babies or puppies.

"Huh?!" You gasped choking on your saliva. Shit, you almost gave yourself whiplash with how fast you swung your neck to make full eye contact.

"Did you wish that was you, I was grinding on?" Taehyung continued to taunt as he walked into the kitchen to rinse his mouth out with water. That Mina girl had put way too much perfume on her neck. Now he was left with a sour aftertaste in his mouth. It tasted cheap, and Taehyung didn't do cheap.

If he was sincere with himself, he did wish it was you he was giving all his attention instead of these random girls. He considered you cute and innocent, with an air of sexiness. That he was pretty sure you weren't conscious of. In all actuality, Taehyung was smitten with you from the first time he saw when you came to ask about the roommate needed sign he had posted. The cute little freshman with a quirky personality and full of ambition. Those first 10 minutes of meeting you had him sprung like no other. You were way different from the usual girls he was used to. Which shouldn't be much of a surprise since most just wanted to fuck, have money spent on them. Oh! Of course, the bragging rights, that they actually got to fuck THE Kim Taehyung.

Don't get him wrong, there had been a countless amount of times he had tried to gain your attention. But you were too busy holed up in your room with your pretty little head stuck in a book to give him the time of day. So instead Taehyung reverted back to his middle school ways and chose to torment and irritating you as a way to receive some type of reaction from you. He would take whatever he could get, he was becoming that desperate.

"What exactly did I have to be jealous of? You do know she was faking it right? I didn't think you to be so naive Tae, because you and I both know that them thin ass lips-" You stopped to point at the box that made up his mouth. "And that speck in your pants that you call a dick can't make anyone scream." You declared assuredly, moving your pointer finger down to his crotch. Pride and confidence swelled in your chest at the insult thrown at him. 'Good one __'

Taehyung spat out the water he was swishing around in his mouth and whipped his head in your direction. Did you just stand there and try to insult his manhood? Nah, clearly his hearing had to be a little off, right?

"Excuse me, what did you just say? My ears must be failing me." Taehyung said wiping the stray droplets of water from his mouth, sticking a finger in his ear to loosen the imaginary earwax there. Amused, he sauntered towards you, a ghost of a smirk rising on his face.

"You heard me, Mr.Kim. Your micropenis couldn't pleasure anything but your hand if even that." You said backing up, as he prowled closer to you, his shoulder in a tense bunch raised close to his ears. Any amusement his face could have held was gone, in its place was a dark, unreadable expression. His mouth fixed in a firm line, and the tip of his ears blossomed red. Flames of anger and lust flashing in his chocolate eyes.

"My sweet __, nothing about me is little. I can guarantee that." Taehyung growled out, his already deep voice deepened in tone. You scoffed trying to portray indifference but continued backing away from his advancing until your back made contact with the wall. Shit.

Taehyung placed his hands beside your head, caging you in. Your eyes fluttered softly as you breathe in his rich cologne encased your senses, dark, woodsy with just a hit of a floral note. His eyes roamed your face, taking in your features before settling on your lips. You self-consciously licked them before tucking them between your teeth. Taehyung leaned his face closer to yours.

"Such a pretty little mouth you have. Has anyone told you how troublesome it could be though?" Taehyung questioned, his thumb on his left coming up to your upper lip.

You could feel your heart beating against your ribcage, feel your cheeks heat up, and dare you say; a gush of wetness in the seat of your boy shorts. The sexual tension was too powerful for your weak defences. Against your better judgment, you let your eyes flutter closed, and lips pucker expectantly anticipating the moment his lips would meet yours. Except Taehyung had other plans.

He shifted his head to the right, placing a gentle kiss on the lobe of your ear. Slowly moving his lips up to the outer shell of your ear.

You couldn't help the surprised moan that left your mouth as you unconsciously tilted your head back, offering your neck to his probing advances.

"Would you like me to prove you wrong?" Taehyung challenged in a whisper. His deep voice sending shocks of pleasure zinging down your spine. He trailed his lips down your neck, pressing gentle kisses against the surface. You had to choke back the moan that threatened to escape you at the feeling of his soft lips on your neck.

"N-no, Taehyung." You panted breathlessly.

"I don't feel like finding my glasses to look at something too small for the naked eye to see." You spoke, resolute on getting in one last insult. Taehyung pulled his face away from your neck, growling at your words.

"Haha, hilarious." He laughed humorously.

He pulled your body away from the wall, hoisted you up over his shoulder with a small grunt, and made his way to his bedroom. Kicking the door open before unceremoniously throwing you on his plush king-sized bed. 'Not good'.

Taehyung stood at the edge of the bed staring at you with unadulterated lust clouding his eyes. His chest heaved heavily with anger or arousal, you weren't sure. But based on the sizable tent in his pants, you could guess the latter.

"Taehyung! I already told you I don't want to see your baby-." You started but was cut off by Taehyung grabbing your ankles and pulling you roughly to the edge of the bed, pouncing on you. His lips met yours in a kiss that stole your breath away. The kiss was sensual and firm, but you could tell he was holding back.

Taehyung snaked his hand up your body, and into your hair, giving it a sharp tug. You gasped at the slight pain giving him a clear path to ease his tongue into your mouth, coiling itself around your own, deepening the kiss further. He thoroughly explored your mouth not leaving one surfaced untouched by his tongue, greedily swallowing your needy moans. Fuck he tasted good. Like oranges and burnt sugar.

Taehyung detached from your mouth to remove his shirt and to help you remove your tank top as-well. Your nipples pebbling from the chilly air and arousal. His eyes studied your body, you wanted so badly to shield yourself away from his unwavering stare.

"You're so beautiful. I've waited so long for this." Taehyung whispered before attacking your throat with kisses. You whined out in pleasure, your hips bucking up with every love bite he delivered, your body was aching in need for more.

"Tae. P-please more. G-give me m-more." You keened in between pants of air.

Your hips now undulated in tiny circles as Taehyung trailed his kisses down your neck, to your breast. He sucked and bit the soft skin around your nipple lightly. Soon his tongue gently wrapped around your nipple, sucking it into his warm mouth, while his hand teased the other breast, kneading and pinching your nipple. Your moans were increasing in volume, at his assault.

Your legs widened on their own accord, making more room for Taehyung. Your pussy was weeping profusely. The boy shorts you were wearing were thoroughly drenched, and with each movement of your hips, your arousal perfumed the air. Releasing your nipple, he continued his way down your chest, moving his lips across your stomach. Down, down he goes until he's kissing you down to where your torso joins your pelvis. He trained his eyes on you, eager to see your reaction as he pulled your boy shorts off from your body with a wet smack.

"Tell me what you want love. Use your big girl voice for me." Taehyung cooed in a provoking tone. You would have told him to fuck off if it wasn't for his mouth hovering right over your clenching core, his hot breath attacking your pussy lips.

"Cat got your tongue? You sure did have a lot of things to say earlier." Taehyung teased once more. You moaned with each word he said, your hips thrusting upwards, hoping to find his mouth.

"Please! Just touch my pussy, lick it, do something! Stop teasing me!" You urged, bringing your hands up to stimulate your breast, you didn't know how much more teasing you could take. You could feel your essence seeping between your ass cheeks and coating the bed. The dull ache in your stomach was intensifying, and he had barely touched you.

"Mmm, well since you begged nicely." Taehyung replied, wasting no time in attacking your pussy. His broad tongue licked wide strips up against your pussy. Splitting your lips with the appendage with each pass to dip his tongue into your pulsating hole. Your hands found his soft brown hair as your back arched off the bed, pushing your cunt deeper into his face.

"Y-yeahfuck! Like that it's so good!" You whined slurring your words.

Taehyung shifted his probing muscle's attention to your clit, attacking it with kitten licks. You shouted loudly, as your thighs were beginning to shake. The coil in your stomach tightening almost painfully. He wrapped his strong arms around your thighs, your knees were hitched higher up almost touching your chest in this position.

But this way, he had much more leverage to devour you. The comforter on his bed bunching uncomfortably beneath your ass but at this moment you gave zero fucks. Taehyung had total control now, showing no remorse as your upper body thrashed about on the bed. Your hands were no longer able to reach his hair, so you opted for your own instead, pulling harshly on your roots.

"Fuck, Taehyung!" You wailed shrilly. Taehyung chuckled at the sounds you were making, remembering your words from earlier he couldn't wait to hear what you sounded like taking his dick.

He then rubbed two thick fingers in the abundance of fluids that your pussy was producing and gently eased them into your tight core.

"Not only is baby girl surprisingly noisy, but she's also pretty tight too." You clenched even more around his fingers, your wall throbbing wildly around them.

"I can't wait to feel you around my dick." Taehyung moaned sucking your clit into his mouth, delivering hard sucks as his fingers pumped into you at a moderate speed. Sadly, the introduction of his fingers was your undoing. You couldn't help as your legs stuck straight in the air. Body arching off the bed and bowed forward as your orgasm hit you like a freight train knocking the wind from your lungs.

Your eyes were shut tightly, and your mouth hung open in a silent scream as your body convulsed from the intensity of your orgasm. Taehyung had a hard time holding you down but continued his assault on your creaming pussy. He slurped as much of your cream as he could, absolutely addicted to the way you tasted.

"T-Tae, stop-p." You called out to him pathetically. Your intense orgasm had passed, but he was still thrusting shallowly inside your tight core, lapping at your clit. The oversensitivity was becoming too much, as you struggled to wiggle away from him. Taehyung withdrew his fingers and ceased his licking with one last kiss on your clit, making you flinch at the contact.

Taehyung beheld your fucked out appearance with pride. Your legs splayed open, displaying your spasming cunt. The way your chest was swiftly rising and falling as you struggled to catch your breath. Your hair stood up in every direction from your previous pulling, body trembling with aftershocks, and all he did was eat you out and finger you.

"Wow." You mumbled your eyes closing, sleep trying to claim you.

"Oh, nonono. I'm not done with you yet." Taehyung proclaimed, flipping you onto your stomach. He had to admit he was the hardest he had ever been in his life. His pants were now unbearably tight, and a wet spot at the crotch of his pants started to become visible. Taehyung tugged the offending material off hissing as his massive erection made contact with the air, free from being confined. You lifted yourself with jelly arms onto your knees, wanting to see what the commotion was behind you.

You choked on your spit for the second time today, as your eyes made contact with the angry red monster Taehyung called his cock. Not only was he unbelievably thick; a little bigger than your wrist, but he was also long. In his hands was the living definition of a third leg. He was crazy if he actually thought that would fit inside of you?

"Fuck that shit!" You cursed trying to scramble to the headboard of the bed, but Taehyung halted your escape, grabbing your ankles and yanking you back.

He would have laughed at your reaction, but he was too turned on, there was so much blood rushing to his cock he felt lightheaded. He wasted no time in putting you back in your previous position. Pulling your ass up so that it was sticking in the air and your torso was lying flat on the bed, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise.

"Tae! Wait...you can't be serious!" You tried pleading with him terrified that thing he called his dick was going to tear you apart.

"Not so little am I baby?" He snickered

Don't worry, you can take it I'll go slow." Taehyung groaned his voice strained, his arousal was beginning to take a toll on him. Taehyung grabbed his shaft and brought the bulbous tip of his cock to rub against your clit. You mewled with pleasure, his tip was hot and the pre-come he was leaking added to the sensation of relaxing and reigniting your body.

Taehyung continued to stroke his tip along your clit thoroughly coating it with your thick fluids. He placed the thick head at your entrance, your juices helping him to slide in. He watched in amazement as your leftover cum gather around the head of his cock in a coating out creamy white. Your body tensed up at the massive intrusion, your cunt pulsated wildly around him, drawing a deep groan from his throat.

"Baby relax, you're squeezing so tight." Taehyung moaned out affected by your spasming core. He reached his hand underneath your body and strummed at your clit once again, coxing you to relax.

Taehyung took your distraction as his cue to shove the offending length inside your prone pussy. You squealed at the sudden fullness and intense burning. Bucking your hips, trying to dislodge him. It was too much to take, especially at this position. Your pussy was going to rip in half.

"B-bi-iig-g. To-o mu-ch." You whined out stuttering horribly.

Taehyung gripped your hips harder to stop your fitful twisting and bucking. He felt as though he was about to explode you were so damn tight and wet, your bucking didn't help his case any either. He didn't wait this long to finish early. He refused to be a one pump chump. Taehyung reached his hand back underneath your body to locate your clit, rubbing it in firm tight circles, to help relax you, and sure enough; like magic, after you adjusted to his massive size, your body was suddenly filled with mind-numbing pleasure. Your whimpers turned into loud groans as you threw your hips back onto Taehyung, giving him the okay to start moving.

"Hell yeah. That's it, baby girl work this tight little cunt on my cock." He grunts before he withdrew his length and slammed back in, his dick splitting your sensitive walls, hitting every spot inside your clenching cunt. His strokes were fast, broad, and powerful, never had you felt so full in your life. Your mouth was gaped open, as shrieks of pleasure fell from your jaws, drool dripped from your lips, and dots blurred your vision. You could feel him in your guts, branding himself inside you. The coil in your stomach was quickly tightening, ready to release what was no doubt, going to be the most intense orgasm your body was about to experience. Taehyung could feel your core tightening up further, your tight little pussy was far better than he could have expected, he wanted to punch himself for waiting this long to indulge in you.

"You're taking this big cock so well, baby. Such a good girl." Taehyung growled.

"But I have a secret to tell you." You shivered as he stopped mid-stroke. You felt the warmth and damp skin of his torso drape over your back. Like pudding in his hands. You didn't even flinch as he brought his large callused hands up through the part in your breast to wrap around your throat.

Ever so slightly he squeezed the sides of your neck, you felt him throb in your stomach as you clenched even tighter around him at the action. Slowly he lifted your head up with his hand still on your neck. Again he squeezed. Bringing his lips down to your ear, he said, "Would you believe me if I said you're only taking half of me in."

The way your jaw dropped and your eyes bugged out of your head would have been comical. If you weren't genuinely terrified, that is.

"O-nly half! That's impossible I swear your touch my small intestine already." You tried to look back to see if he was lying or not, but he tightened his hold on your neck, forcing your head back to look up at him. Your body was now bowed in an almost perfect 'C' shape. You felt his other hand snake around your abdomen and press on the bulge that was his cock poking through your stomach. Again he throbbed in excitement.

"You were talking such a big game earlier baby girl, what happened? Surely you could all of a dick that's as little as mine. Right?" Taehyung scolded in your ear.

Little by little, he began pulling you more on his cock by your neck. And fuck he really wasn't lying he really had more length to feed your cunt.

"Ta-ae, pleaseplease n-o more-e, I can't take it m-my stomach hurts." You whined

"Hmm? But you're so close to taking all of me in. Just a few more inches, and I'll be all in." He responded.

Not wasting any more time he released your neck, and before you could fall down to the bed. He locked his fingers in your hair and firmly yanked, lifting you off the mattress, and into his arms, allowing himself the rest of the way in.

You screamed out as his hips met your ass with a wet smack. The increase in pressure coupled with the new position broke the levee to your release. You trembled uncontrollably as your orgasm started from your toes. Quickly spreading to your arms and head before finally spreading throughout your whole body, you were rendered speechless as your orgasm claimed you. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, as a burst of white light flashed behind your eyes, incoherent sounds of what was supposed to be Taehyung's name filled the space around you.

Through it all Taehyung continued to fuck into you almost violently, allowing your cores convulsions to wash over him. His body dripped with sweat as he briefly picked up his speed, his hips beginning to stutter. He held your thrashing body close to his as delivered his last couple of thrusts before moaning loudly and exploding his hot seed inside of your wrecked cunt.

You both fell breathlessly on the mattress, sweat polishing your skin, exhaustion quickly making its way to claim you. Taehyung pulled slowly out of your battered and swollen pussy. On wobbly legs, walked to the restroom to get a washcloth to clean the mess that was between your thighs. You moaned at the textured touch of the cloth and the dampness of it soothing the hot burn from your pussy.

Your whole body was numb, and you were utterly worn out, so much so, that when Taehyung pulled you into his arms, you didn't even argue.

In the morning you will definitely be having a word with him. But for now, you let his racing heartbeat lull you to some much-needed sleep.

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