#wait it's a black hole behind that boy?!

[littlefox08]

Foxie- I will KILL ya' for this, Nilo!! - Summon fire in your hands.

Nilo- Well, you can TRY! - Point the sharp scepter at her. - I'm good at surviving, dumbass!!

Foxie- WELL, LET's SEE WHAT YOU CAN DO WITH IT!!! - Throw the fireballs.

Nilo- NICE TRY, BUT YOU'RE NOT GOING TO HIT ME WITH THAT!!! - It swerves easily.

Foxie- LISTEN HERE, YOU LITTLE-

Crap. That's what she was going to say. No, really.

[pseudowho]

Behind the Wall

Who was this stressed, suited man...and how could you love him so easily?

A Higuruma Hiromi glory-hole story.

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, feral smut and falling in love with a stranger.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

You knew him only as the man in the black and white suit. You had only seen the briefest glimpse of his clothes through your glory hole, after all.

"I don't normally-- I've never done this before...not that kind of guy--" he apologised, on the other side of the wall. His voice was smooth, deep and kind. You felt a little bubble of affection in your belly already.

"...well...I'm not that kind of girl," you teased, peeking a single come hither beckoning finger out of the glory hole, inviting him to your mouth, "...but something's got to pay the bills."

You heard the man's breath hitch, a shudder. You heard him unzip himself, and you settled on your knees, wiggling in anticipation. Waiting for a job to come up in a legal office was long...and while this wasn't the best use of your Law degree, you couldn't help but feel the thrill of doing something so sordid.

A cock, only half-hard and uncertain, but still so long, thick and pink-tipped beneath his silky foreskin, was eased gently through the hole. His voice sounded worried for you on the other side, and you pressed your fingers over your mouth, suppressing a smile.

"I'm...I'm not sure-- are you...are you sure?" The man in the suit stuttered. You leaned forwards, ghosting your lips over his cockhead, and the man gasped and moaned, a little trickle of salty pre-cum wetting your lips;

"Shhhh...you sound stressed," you cooed, "and I enjoy this, too. So let's have some fun." You held his length in your hand, and were satisfied to hear him whine and tremble, the dull knock of his hands and a knee pressing against the other wall. His cock swelled in your hand, twitching, and you rolled your thumb over his wet cockhead beneath the stretching hood of his foreskin.

"--so-- so stressed," he whined, pleading and begging you, "...you don't even... don't even know how bad...how bad my week has been..." His moans fractured as you began to pump his cock with your hand, from ball to tip, and he rutted forwards into your fist, "...haven't cum...can't remember the last time...so long...haaaah fuck, perfect, pleasepleaseplease, feels so good..."

"Yeah?" You whispered, bottom lip between your teeth, eyes closed as you drank down his little moans and gasps, purring at him, "Does that feel good? You sound desperate, baby. I bet you work so hard."

He whimpered into the affection; "--g-god yeah...feels amazing...your hand, fuck-- work so hard, s--so so hard...not got...don't have...have anyone, shit-- ohhhh-hhhhh--hh not gonna...not gonna last..."

You felt his cum-tight balls as you reached through, pulling them gently through the hole to massage them at the base of his cock. Your man cried out, all strained whimpers and cursing, and you heard his fingernails scrape against the other side of the wall; "Tell me what you want, beautiful stressed boy...how can I help you?"

"--spit--spit on my cock pleasepleaseplease in your mouth, pl--" He broke off into delirious shudders to feel your hot little mouth slick tightly around his cockhead, squeezing your lips into a tight ring, and using them to push his foreskin down as you sucked him into your mouth. With your tongue cupping his length while you sucked, bobbing your mouth around him, smooth and tasting his little spurts of pre-cum, his moans shot straight through you.

You hadn't felt as aroused as this, pleasuring a client before, but something about his frantic, begging desperation set your clit throbbing. Your hand drifted lazily between your legs, slipping between your glossy wet folds, rolling your clit under two fingers. You moaned around his length, and he cried out, cock throbbing, close to the edge.

Pulling your mouth back, and jacking off his red, aching cock with your spit and fist, you whispered, just loud enough for him to hear; "You sound so pretty, you've even got me touching myself--"

That was the last straw; your man in the rumpled suit came with a bark, sandy curses and whimpers. You took him back into your mouth, feeling heavy pulses of seed spilling out onto your tongue, flooding your mouth-- it obviously had been a long time for him.

"--arrrrghh god yes, shit, thank you-- so perfect, fuck, thank you-- oh ffff--ffuuuck in your mouth too...you're too good-- don't deserve-- dont deserve you--...haaaah...ahhhhh..."

You heard the wall tremble as your man came down from his high. His ears ringing, he vaguely heard your swallow. A weak whimper left him, and you giggled as another spurt of cum dampened your lips. You licked him clean, leaving him shivering with overstimulation, before placing a sweet little kiss to his cockhead.

"...come see me again?"

"F-fuck yes, absolutely-- absolutely."

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

You had barely worked that week, lost in job-hunting, coming up empty-handed at every turn. It was five days before you made it back to the glory hole, happily receiving a generous payment, and wondering vaguely about your stressed, lonely man in the rumpled suit. You settled in your booth; it took him just a few minutes to find you.

"...is it...is it you?" He asked tentatively. You grinned, nudging yourself forwards on your knees, just out of eyesight behind the gloryhole. You blushed, shaking yourself off as being ridiculous.

"...do you mean me?" You offered. You heard his sigh of delight. He laughed, a deep, rich sound.

"I worried I'd scared you away," he teased. You heard him start to unzip himself, before hesitating, "Uhm...can we...?"

"Quick," you whispered conspiratorially, "put something in my mouth before I start talking at you." He laughed again, a sound that sent flutters of butterflies through your tummy. His cock, already rock-hard and glistening at the tip, was pressed through the hole. You reached through to cup his balls, softly bringing them through. He shuddered; he had clearly been hoping you'd cup his sensitive balls for him again.

"You like it when I do this...?" You teased, rolling his heavy balls in one palm. Hearing him groan, and sigh with relief into your touch, you leaned your cheek against the wall, admiring the weight of him in your hand as you massaged him.

"...I...never knew I did, but...you're so good at it...shit, feel like I could cum-- cum just from that--"

"Hush," you mocked him, just to hear his shaking laugh again, "you deserve so much more than that." Taking his cock into your mouth, determined to take him into your throat this time, you revelled in the dulcet tones of him falling apart inside your hot little mouth again. You swirled your tongue around his cockhead, swiping into his leaking slit, suckling, examining, measuring him with your throat.

Your stressed man bucked involuntarily to feel his blunt cockhead stroke the back of your throat, and you gagged, swallowing around him. He wasn't able to last long, feeling the sides of your throat stretch around his leaking cock.

"--haaa--aaahhhhh fuck'msosorry...feel s'good...like this...haaahh fuckkkk....do you...do you like to read?"

Your throat convulsed around his length, sputtering as you burst into laughter. Your rumpled man convulsed too, swearing and stuttering as his orgasm hit him like a bus. You tried to catch his cum in your hand and mouth, but knelt, still laughing, his seed dripping down your cheeks as he groaned, bucking forwards, cock bounding thick spatters of seed onto you.

"...do I like to read?" You laughed, masturbating him to bring him down from his high. He whimpered into your wall again, a sound which was gradually conditioning you, into pussy-aching wetness.

"...I'm sorry, I...I just...fucking ignore me, I'm an idiot, I just..."

You laughed again, the twinkling sound shooting through him like daggers.

"...just...wanted to get to know you," he mumbled, and you could hear the mortified little pout through the wall.

You couldn't wait to see your rumpled man again. You didn't know how you resisted looking through the hole at him as he walked away. You called after him, and heard his footsteps hesitate for a moment, before he snorted with mirth.

"I love to read!"

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

"I want...to try something different this time. Please."

Your rumpled man sounded hoarse. His voice was tight, clipped. You could feel the stress pounding off him in waves, through your little window to him.

"...what would you like?" You answered, as if to a lover, not a client.

"Can you...can you come to the other window, instead?"

Ah...the gloryhole for fucking. A little flat bench where your ass, pussy and legs could lay, your body separated by a wall and curtain. Your eyelids fluttered to imagine the cock you knew well by now, stretching your pussy open, your mystery man clutching your thighs as he fucked into you. You imagined those desperate whimpers and moans for your cunt, instead of your mouth, and it made you throb.

"I mean...I don't normally..." you hesitated, feeling a twang of regret to disappoint him.

"No," he urged, sounding so fractious and desperate, "not that. I promise, not that. You...another time. Another way. I want...want to eat you out. Please."

You faltered again, arguing with him; "This is meant to be about you, not me, I'll take care of you--"

"Trust me," he begged, his palms flat on the wall now, "...this...this is what I need. I mean it. Please. Please."

God knew you couldn't resist his begging. You felt a trickle of arousal seep out of you, dampening your panties. The thought of that groaning mouth around your clit set you on fire.

"Well...alright then. If you insist." You moved round to the next window, and heard him follow, pacing and predatory. You shimmied out of your panties, swallowing thickly before you crept your ass and legs out of the window, down the table. When you settled, legs open, feeling so exposed, his palms held your thighs. You heard him curse under his breath.

"Fuck...you're beautiful." Your man said it so sincerely, in that lusty-low voice, that you blushed, your hands over your face as you lay on your back. You felt your thighs confidently lifted, draped over strong, broad shoulders. His voice was deep, hungry.

"...hope you've got something to hold onto, back there, my love."

Fuck, how you saw stars. You cried out in genuine bliss as he sunk his face between your folds. You tried climbing up desperately on your elbows to see him, but were woefully obscured by a black curtain. You could feel a powerful, prominent nose bridge nuzzling across your clit, that clever tongue plunging into your hole.

Those familiar groans, husky whispers and moans, were now muffled by your pussy. Your rumpled man was drinking the life out of you, making you twist and writhe, sucking your clit into his mouth with such force that you instinctively shied away up the couch. He gripped your thighs, yanking them back over his shoulders as you squeaked. He growled, sinking his prominent front teeth into the soft inner squish of your thighs.

"No. Get back here so I can fuck you with my mouth." You sobbed against the pleasure, your toes curling against the backs of his shoulders. Crying out as he shook his head from side-to-side with a rusty growl, you twitched and jerked, having never felt yourself dragged to orgasm so forcefully.

"Oh my fuc--fucking god, you're so good at that-- oh fuck don't stop-- don't stop don'tstopdon'tstoppleasepleaseplease--"

You didn't need to beg to make him continue. Already feeling on the edge of a savage high, you felt three long fingers, bunched together and lubricated with his own spit, plunge into your hole. A high, keening cry left you, and he found your soft spot immediately, fucking his fingertips against your belly.

"--thassit--fucking amazing...beautiful girl, c'mon...deserve the best, shit--"

One final suck of your clit into his mouth had you rolling over the edge. Silence rang from the other active booths around you, the clients and girls listening in awe as you moaned and whimpered your way through the most spectacular orgasm you'd ever felt. Your hands plunged past the curtain into his hair, tugging on it, thick and silky between your fingers.

Your rumpled man was groaning, whimpering, those familiar sounds you knew he only made when he came. Ths silence rang loudly through the booths, as you both came down from your highs.

One little voice from somewhere across the room; "...fucking hell." A few smattered laughs, and the slow sounds of others continuing their work of mouths and hands. You were dazed, lost on cloud nine, panting. Your hands came back to you, some inky black strands caught between your fingers. That familiar voice between your legs, so much less tense now.

"...so, uh...reckon I could get a job here? Do I pass the interview?"

You couldn't help how you laughed.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

"...have you...do you see anyone else...apart from me?"

Why did you feel so guilty?

"I...I do, yeah. No regulars though. And nobody I actually enjoy, like...like you." It was true. Your goofy, stressed, rumpled man had ruined you for anyone else. You felt a jealous prickle from him on the other side of the wall.

"...I....do you have to keep doing this?" He pleaded with you.

"...well...can't find any legal secretary jobs, so--"

"Excuse me?"

You faltered. Had you said something wrong? You began to repeat yourself, but he interrupted you.

"All this time...I'm a-- I'm a lawyer," he choked out, and you ran cold, stunned. You laughed nervously.

"...so that's why you're so stressed." He laughed with you, swearing quietly to himself.

"I'm sure..." he offered, sly and sincere, "...I'm sure we could do with another legal secretary."

You knelt, stunned, your mouth dry and heart pounding in anticipation. You heard him speak again.

"Listen... how about you come out here, and say hello properly...and I take you out for dinner? No strings, no expectations, just...dinner."

You were silent. He begged.

"Please...I've got to see you. Please."

Trembling, pulling your clothes on, you acquiesced. Before stepping out from behind the back curtain, your shaking voice joked; "Well, you asked for it...drumroll please."

You laughed to hear him patter two hands rapidly on the wall. You stepped out.

Tall. Black-haired. Hooked-nosed. Hangdog-eyed. And, staring into you, as if you were a goddess made flesh. You had never felt so beautiful. He turned, and blushed, his hands cupping his mouth and nose as he looked towards the ceiling. He groaned, mortified at his past behaviour.

"...you never told me you were so lovely."

[sleep-0-deprived]

I literally am lovinggg your stories! Especially the yandere ones omg. I usually hate the yandere trope but yours is just so yummy. What about a yandere Logan, him being jealous over his “best friend” hanging around Scott a little too much🎀

Ambrosia (Yandere Logan x male reader) ~! ꒰ᐢ⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝ᐢ꒱⸒⸒

WC:. 2.5k

Tags: jealous sex, gay sex, slight praising, Yandere themes dark content and gaslighting ect! Blow jobs (reader receiving) pet names, biting, mating press, Logan is a lil mean but with good intentions, anal creampies, little bit of cum eating, slight feminization, Logan obsessing over your scent, dirty talk(referring to readers hole as a cunt) <33

A/N o’m gosh! I love your page it’s designed so cute and I’m obsessed with your writing, specially Logan! I always see you in my notifs and I appreciate you’re likes sm ,I never see enough male reader posts on this man and I’m goin feral over here~ ໒꒰ྀི˃ ⤙ ˂ ꒱ྀིა

It was no surprise to anyone in the x mansion that you always cling to a man like Logan, you were anywhere he was, or the other way around and some people being storm and Scott always tried to warn you how unhealthy it was for the two of you but gosh if you weren’t just a naive man.

Logan would just murmur out “they don’t know a thing doll” while his hands massage your thighs keeping you to himself all hours of the night in his bedroom and that was just fine by you after all this was normal friend behavior right?….he just cares a lot is it!

In the current weeks though, Dr. Xavier had put you on more missions with Scott and occasionally Jean, and Logan was dead set that professor X was against him thinking he was trying to pry you away from him that they were trying to steal you away. Logan would be damned if any of them got to have you, after a long day with Scott you and Jean coming back from a mission you were approached by Logan. “Can you stay with me?…I’m having nightmares again and I really don’t wanna be alone..”

His head drained down to your neck looking over at Scott with narrowed eyes as he spoke in a gruff and mighty convincing tone to you having you all wrapped around his pretty claws practically humming you and massaging your crotch through your jeans getting you to his bedroom leaving a pissed off Scott looking right at you “he never listens to me dammit! I told him he needed to start getting more independence from Logan!” He yelled over at Jean in a hushed whisper

“we can’t make him learn, they are both as codependent as eachother and in a unstable way they are like the perfect storm” Jean just shook her head and turned on her heels heading down her own hallway to her room leaving Scott taking one last glance at Logan’s bedroom door shutting behind the two of you before he himself just headed off to his own room.

“Why are you spendin s’much time with Scott these day…? Do you not like being around me anymore angel?” He’d coo to you his hand reaching between your thighs gripping your cock kissing the back of your neck making you shiver. “Mh—no it’s not that Logan- never”

you’d just whine as he undoes your belt pushing you back down onto his best and slipping his thumbs under your waits band getting your boxers off you. “Of course you wouldn’t would you doll? You’re just a sweet boy” he murmurs gently stroking your inner thighs with your uniform shirt skin tight with the leather hugging each and every plump curve of you w/s waist.

“Yeah I promise Lo, I promise—“ you can’t help but for him like a puppy chasing its owner with your cock leaking a slick mess against the black leather of your shirt driving you insane feeling torn rim rubbing all against his bed sheets, “I know you mean well darlin, think you deserve a reward?”

He lets one of his claws break the skin on his knuckle and traced up your red cockhead. His face dipping clutching at your thighs with a sense of infatuation looking up at you like some god with his chocolate eyes never leaving yours when he pressed a wet kiss against your tip removing his hand off your thigh and holding it still taking one big lick up the side of it.

“Take me more, just a little more Logan, c’mon” you instinctively buck your hips on the bed arching your back just wanting to grip his head and make him deep through you, your brows inching together and the zipper of your shirt feeling to tight with your heated circumstances leaving you unzipping and stripping for him.

“Goddamn angel! you’re like sugar on my tongue doll” suddenly you were his ambrosia, he picked up his pace and took your cock fully into his mouth deepthroating letting his tongue slip licking at your balls while you sit on the edge of the bed reaching your hand down gripping his hair tightly while me massages your thighs with his claws poking out of him like some feral dog breathing in your scent nuzzling his face into your groin making you feel his shaggy beard.

“Lo, I’m getting there- oh fck~!” Your back arches instinctively leaving your pecs pressed upwards to the trailing having rapidly as a sweat line builds up on the arch of your back. “That’s it, just let go for me I’ve got you baby”

his hands gentle up on your thighs feeling your cock start to twitch on his tongue like it was doing laps desperate to explode feeling and rating your bitter ropes shooting him in the throat while he just reaches his work worn hand down to your balls cupping them making sure he milks you good when he looks up at you.

The sensation overwhelming you losing torn grip on his head feeling your cock fall flat when his mouth leaves you bare again, “shh, you did so great angel, so fucki’n perfect it’s pitiful” Logan grumbles and gets up off his knees gripping you up softly by his standards holding York hips letting his claws leave red marks as he slides you up further on the bed with his signature smirk showing off his pretty canines.

“Need you right now Lo….i need you so bad” a broken whisper floods your mouth looking up with a pout presented on your lips when his hand reached around his neck pulling off his war tags, undoing them and reaching down putting them over your head “here, I wanna see you clutching those while I stretch that cunt out” he murmurs right in your ear and leaves you no time to think.

His hands spreading or cheeks apart spitting right in your rim watching it wink at him “you’re all wet like a sopping pussy aint’cha angel” his thumb rubbing your rim pushing it in open making you squirm but his other hand holds your hips down into the bed leaving you a mess with your cock getting hard again and weeping lonesomely between your thighs “add another” you spoke unsatisfied ranting meow already after the sensation of something inside you felt good

“Of course doll, wanna please this greedy hole” his thumb gets replaced with his index finger going in knuckle deep and curling up before he adds a second finger and scissors you with his eyes sole set on your face. “Is this better than Scot? You let all guys get their fingers inside this lil cunt?” His breath halts crossing the line of pure and utter infatuation feeling his cum flavored breath against your rim kissing it as he fingers you.

“Course not Lo! Only let you stretch and touch this..only you” your back arching holding the bed sheets feeling his fingers curling deep enough to leave you breathless when his finger pads rub that bundle of nerves, “I think you’re ready for the real thing, think you’re ready sweetheart?” His voice softens up a little seeing that fragile line of weakness you were tight lining when you laid out and splayed out for him like some pretty doll— no, His pretty doll.

“Yeah, I’m all ready I’m ready Logan” your words slur out drunk off of arousal with a pearly bead of precum rolling down your shaft looking up at Logan biding back your own tears not wanting to wake anyone else in the X-mansion when his fingers slide out of your puckered rim and his other hand slips to your hip grabbing them and pulling you backwards to him.

“It’s gonna hurt for a bit, promise I’ll go as slow as you want it baby boy..” his hands grip his belt buckle and unbuckles it pulling down his pants and throwing them somewhere in his room leaving you batting your lashes at the large bulge in his jeans protruding begging to come out as you try to calm down clutching the name tags around your neck.

“Fuck Lo- c’mon please” your voice whispering his name out like it’s your only prayer trying to get his boxers down with his thighs before he pulls them down leaving his cock standing eager and tall against his stomach with a prominent vein going up the curved side nearly having your mouth water when he spreads your thighs apart opening you up and holding your legs to the mattress letting his cock nudge and nuzzle between your cheeks while he looks down at you clutching his Wolverine tags.

“Just stay nice and quiet, don’t want Jean to hear you moaning…not yet alt least” he hums starting to nudge his tip inside past the gummy rim of muscles watching how it stretches, how the light in your eyes go glossy, how your pupils go wide like a cat when he stretches you—he’s already about to come just from that stupid little look on your face, oh the things you do to him.

His head droops down like a hound shoving his face in your crook holding you down to the mattress with your thighs gripped and wide apart slowly bottoming out into you “dammit doll, it’s like she’s purrin, does this little cunt like getting stretched?”

He groans biting your Adam apple pinching the skin between his canines stripping you of little gasps while he stays mounted on you leaving your cock sandwiched between his hair covered abdomen while the head board creaks when he pulls out a little and shallowly slams back inside you making your hole go wide burning from the sensation leaving your hands shaking clutching onto his tags hanging on your neck like they were prayer beads.

“Right there Lo, c’mon little more oh!” Your jaw slacking up under him going wide eyed when his cock drags along your inner walls pulling nearly all the way out to his tip and shoving back inside leaving you out of breath. “Shh, stay quiet baby doll, doin so good so far- don’t wanna have Scott seeing you like this”

his voice comes out like a choked growl letting his claws come out a little again shredding his own bed sheets while he buried his face further into your neck nibbling and sucking on the bite marks taking in deep whiffs of your scent making you swear his cock was pulsing every time he took a breath in,

“Smells so good baby, such a sweet doll” his hips start circling around and shoving forwards between your thighs letting his spit make for lube with your cock stuck against your belly button covered in Logan’s saliva while you reach your free hand to the back of his hair letting his beard leave red marks on your s/c skin.

“Lo-gan t’much, can’t take it Lo” your voice strangely from your lips letting your eyes gloss over and roll back when his cock head presses bullying your prostate making your rim feel like fire around his cock when he stretches you over and over bordering a painful pleasure. “Don’t say that angel, my pretty boy can take it all can’t he?” His voice speaks pressing sloppy wet kisses against your neck watching your face and how your fingers trembled to clutch his tags.

“I’m tryin Lo, I really am~!” You squeak your feeling your thighs go numb from being gripped tight and shoved to the bed not feeling his thrusts let up once. Logan’s hips start to stutter a little leaving you feeling his cock piercing you and keeping you spread as he slips his hands further up your legs moving from your inner thighs moving under your knees and shoving them to your chest allowing him to reach a deeper angle inside you.

“I know you’re tryin, doing so fucking well, just lay there and spread wide f’or me darlin” he grunts letting you feel how rigid his breath is dampening his beard with his drool licking up your neck mounting you hard leaving you beneath him feeling his body weight with a small huff removing one hand off your legs keeping his left hand under your knees holding them to your chest before he reaches around and gives your cock a firm grasp at the base making you arch.

“Oh~ I’m close Lo- I’m— gon’Ah” your voice cracks in half breaking into shards when your glossy eyes finally spill over with tears of pleasure leaving your ears ringing clamping and twitching around his cock feeling your base shudder under the rough hand cumming all over your own thighs and chest laying fucked out “look at’cha squirting all over yourself angel”

he heaves making your feel every buck and jerk of his hips with his mouth slipping upwards biting at your bottom lobe fucking you into the headboard.“Where do you want it sweetheart? Want it in your tummy or that pretty little mouth of yours hm?..or maybe all over them pouty lips” Logan whispers in your ear leaving his hot breath cooling the drool on your neck making it harder to speak just letting go of his hair trying to point at your belly trying to urge him inside.

“Nuh-uh baby doll, good boys use their words don’t they” he mocks you a little letting go of your softening cock to grip your hip with one hand and holding your right knee up to your chest letting your other leg hoop around his hip and bring him closer. “I wan’it inside me Lo- please inside”

you plead over and over going breathless when you finally feel the pudgy cock head pulling against your prostate letting you know what came next, white streams spewing all through your body making your feel like a little furnace under him while his grip loosens and his muscles tense up holding you steady looking up at you kissing away the tears on your cheeks growing more and more insane over you, enjoying how your skin held its afterglow and how your curves felt beneath him.

“There, there baby, don’t cry, lemme hold you…not letting you go [name] I’m never gonna” your heart skipped at those words never understanding he really meant them, only thinking he was trying to be all sweet to you when his hands leave your body letting his claws pull out of the mattress they were buried in as he crawls from between your thighs pulling out nice and slow with a slick pop.

“Logan” you wanted to tell him you needed more and you really would’ve if the feeling of his chin on your shoulder blade and the arm snaking around your waist from behind didn’t shut you up. “I know sweetheart” the only words that left his lips as he pressed a kiss to Your sensitive skin leaving the air field with a mutual understanding lingering in the air while he holds a you like he’s about to have you ripped away, his embrace tight and firm but holding a world of comfort to your used up body.

[daydreaming-nerd]

Our Girl (Bat Boys! x Female! Reader) Rhysand's Part

First part

AN: Sorry I've been a little MIA, I've been going through a lot and struggling to find time to write. But I just busted this out and I love it.

Summary (Series): When Rhysand becomes High Lord the boys find themselves too busy and too well known to visit their local pleasure house. So they hire the reader to to satisfy their needs.

This fic: Rhys seeks his revenge from the last encounter he had with you and his brothers.  HEAVILY BASED OFF THIS FANART

Warnings: sub/dom dynamic, dirty talk, degradation, cock warming, cum eating, (i think that's it, as always lmk if I missed anything)

Word count: 3,100

The past week or so had been nothing but bliss. I spent every morning curled up on my chaise lounge reading a book and eating whatever home cooked breakfast that was brought to me. It was just as I had dreamed, silk pajamas and expensive champagne, sleeping in and spa treatments. 

Rhys and his “brothers” had been extremely busy the past couple of days, I hadn’t yet seen them since the first night we spent together. I hadn’t heard from them either, but as long as the gold in my account kept being accepted at every manner of boutique and fancy restaurants I didn’t much care when my services were needed.

I made my way through the townhouse and to my room, bags in hand and hair freshly done. I had spent the day at the hair salon and decided it would be a crime to return straight home with a fresh blowout, so I treated myself to lunch and of course some shopping as well. 

When I returned to my room I found a black box waiting for me on my too large bed. Setting the bags aside I made a beeline to the mysterious box tossing the lid open with little care. My eyes went wide at what I saw inside. A babydoll made of deep purple lace and a silky mesh lay in the box. It was beautiful, but that wasn’t the lingerie that made me lose my breath, it was the diamond necklace that lay on top of it.  

I picked up both gifts prompting a note to tumble out of the folds, 

Your presence is requested by your High Lord…

There was no doubt in my mind that Rhysand was the one to send such a lavish gift. While I’m sure Cassian and Azriel were paid handsomely I could buy a house or two with this necklace. 

I wasted no time changing into the attire Rhys had bought for me. I wondered if this would be a recurring thing for him. He had told Cassian and Azriel they could dress me however they pleased, but none had yet to take advantage of it. 

I tiptoe down the hall to where I can practically feel his power seeping through the door. He had been holed up in his office all week. There were times I thought to check on him, offer him some release or even some company, but I didn’t want to pester him and lose my paycheck. 

My hand lingers on the doorknob for a moment before closing around it and pushing the door open. I find Rhysand in the exact same place he was when I first came here, hunched over stacks of papers and drinking a whiskey on the rocks. 

“There you are,” he says low, rising from his plush chair, his presence making me feel small. “Do you know what I was reading over?” he asks, waving a piece of paper in the air. 

“No my lord,” I reply and I don’t miss the glimmer in his eye as I utter the familiar name he claimed to love so much. 

“This, little one,” he smirks, further closing the distance between us. “Is your bank statement.” he smiles tossing the paper on a nearby chair. 

My blood runs cold. Had I spent too much? Did I overdraft my account somehow? I was sure I hadn’t spent that much money in the past week. 

“200 gold marks at Rita’s for dinner last night,” he states, coming behind me pulling my hair to the side so he has access to my neck. 

“300 gold marks at a boutique, 100 marks buying lacy underthings and another 100 gold marks buying shoes.” he smirks, placing kisses on my neck as he lists every expense. 

“I-I’m sorry did I overdraft my account? I can return the shoes, or the ‘lacy underthings’ as you so call them?” I wince praying I’m not about to get fired. 

“If you take back those lacy underthings you will be fired,” he chuckles, resting his hands on my hips. 

I mentally curse myself for forgetting his ability to pry into my mind, but I stop kicking myself the moment he kisses that sensitive spot underneath my ear. 

“On the contrary, little one. You aren’t spending enough of my money.” he smiles, brushing a hand over the lace covering my breasts and up to my necklace. “I thought you could use some help.” 

“They’re beautiful my lord,” I breathe, feeling him lick a stripe up the column of my neck. 

“The next time I fuck you I want you dripping in diamonds and jewels that I bought you, is that clear?” he asks smugly and I swear if he wasn’t bracing his hands on my hips my legs would’ve buckled. 

“Yes my lord,” I breathe leaning into his touch as I feel him smirk against the shell of my ear 

“Good girl,” he praises me and I feel my stomach flutter once more. “Now I have unfinished business with you.” he growls and my eyes snap open as his hand traces around my necklace. 

“You see last time I was denied you, I had to watch my brothers fuck and fill what’s mine and I didn’t like it very much.” he says dangerously low as his fingers dance over the diamonds around my neck. “Who put this pretty little collar around your neck?” 

“You did my lord,” I breathe as he turns to face me. 

“That’s right I did,” he smiles tilting my chin up to meet his gaze. “And whose money do you spend all around town on expensive wine and shoes?” 

“Yours,” I say, my love drunk eyes boring into his. 

“Good girl,” Rhys smirks, dragging a thumb over my lips. “Now I have need of you but, I’m not done with work.” he says, dropping his hand from my face, making me miss the contact already. 

He strolls around the desk and sits down on his ornate chair again. Part of me wondered what his throne looked like if this was just the chair to his office. I hear his belt unbuckling as he frees himself from his slacks, standing tall, proud and practically throbbing for attention. 

“Come here little one,” he croons as he tugs his cock a couple times in his hand, getting it hard and ready for me. 

I approach him smoothly, I think he wants me under his desk with my mouth on his cock but the second I’m within arms reach of him I feel his hands on my hips. The next thing I know he’s slipping me on his cock like I’m nothing more than a cock sleeve for him. 

“There we go, nice and snug in there,” he smirks, nibbling my earlobe. 

I can hardly think or even breathe from the sheer size of him. I was almost embarrassed that he didn’t even have to touch me to warm me up for him. His words alone had me dripping wet for him making it easy for him to slide right in. 

“Now,” he chuckles, feeling the tension in my body. “I’m going to finish some paperwork and you're going to sit right here and keep my cock nice and warm alright little one?”

“Yes my lord,” I mewled, already sweating, needing him to move. 

“Good girl,” he smiles, pressing a kiss to my cheek. “No talking, no moving, and no touching yourself or you don’t get to cum.” 

I nod shallowly as he begins to resume his paperwork. 

It was probably the biggest exercise of self control I had ever practiced.  I knew how good it felt to ride Rhys, knew how good it felt when he lost control and pistoned inside of me until I fell apart under him. To sit here and be so close to that kind of pleasure? It was torture. 

The ticking of the clock on the wall only furthered my madness. I averted my eyes to where Rhys was scribbling on scroll, the scratching of a fountain pen equally as infuriating. The way his hand gripped the fountain pen, the veins standing out. How could his hands possibly be arousing? Was there a part of this male that wasn’t arousing to me? 

I pictured what those hands might do should they find their way on my skin. Where they might touch first, the ideas had my pussy clenching as I take in a sharp breath.

Rhys’ hand on my waist flew to my thigh slapping it hard, “Bad girl, I felt that,” he growled and I had to bite my lip not to whimper. 

The scratching of his pen on paper echoed throughout the room as I did everything in my power not to move, not to breathe or think about anything but being completely still. 

“150 gold marks at the perfumery huh?” Rhys croons holding the receipt for the perfume I bought two days ago. 

“Yes my lord,” I say, eyeing the receipt that had yet to bear his signature. 

“Let’s see what I purchased then,” he utters slowly, his nose nuzzles my neck inhaling the scent of the new perfume. “Mmm, very nice little one.” His voice is low and husky and I can’t help but clench around him once more. 

He growls, grabbing the back of my neck and hauling me up before slamming my front on top of his desk. On instinct I try to move but I’m held down by his hand on the back of my neck. His cock slips out of me, leaving me cold and empty, I’m half tempted to beg him to fill me again.

“What did I say about moving?” he snarls in my ear, making me whimper.

“I’m sorry,” I mewl, making him laugh. 

“You aren’t, but you will be,” he chuckles. 

His hand grips the hem of the light chiffon of the babydoll and tosses it over the small of my back so he can see all of me. I feel his hand smooth over my bum before spanking me hard. The sting makes me whimper until his hand comes back to soothe over the area. 

Without warning he buries himself inside of me, his balls smacking my clit. The guttural moan he lets out is nothing short of pornographic. I can feel the bulge in my belly that he leaves, his tip brushing my cervix like he did last time. 

He pulls out and moves in slow languid motions, making me feel every harsh inch of him. I’d like to think he’s warming me up but I know he’s warning himself up, this is all about him. 

“Gods your pussy is worth every single piece of gold I pay you? Do you know that?” he growls picking up the pace a bit. 

I whimper in response, feeling him move his hand from my neck to my hip to keep me from lurching forward so much. Out of the corner of my eye I see him shift the receipt from the perfume on the desk and grab a pen. Is he really signing my bills as he fucks me over his desk? The scratching of his signature on the page lets me know he is. 

“Every fucking penny,” he grunts before tossing the heavy pen on the desk. 

The thud of the pen is followed by another grunt before his hand goes to my upper back pressing me back into the desk again. His fingers on my hips and between my shoulderblades keep me from moving even an inch as he pistons his hips into me, a male gone feral. 

“Oh fuck Rhys!” I moan feeling my eyes roll to the back of my head. 

My fingers grab the edge of the desk trying to keep myself from moving too much, needing something to dig my nails into. The sound of skin slapping fills the room as Rhys’ breathing picks up with the rhythm of his thrusts. 

I clench around him and I receive a harsh slap to my behind once again. The sting startles me but fades into pleasure.

“Don’t you dare cum little one,” Rhys growls, increasing his pace. “You were a bad girl, bad girls don't get to cum.”

I let out a whimper at his words. I swear to the gods if this man leaves me trembling on the desk from not finishing with his cum leaking out of me I will lose my mind. I’ll run and find Cassain and beg him to finish the job, which I know he will. Azriel is another story. I think he might end up tying me up and getting off on me begging, hell I might get off on it too.

“Rhys please,” I cry as he presses my cheek further into the cool, smooth wood of the desk. Pens and picture frames rattling off from every thrust.

His hand comes down on my ass again as he pistons into me, searching for his own release. Long fingers dig into the skin of my hips leaving marks in their wake. 

“Are you going to beg little one?” Rhys laughs, thrusting harder making me too dumb to speak. 

My eyes roll to the back of my head as he finds that spot that drives me wild. I’m sure he’s not trying to, clearly just trying to get himself off. Yet somehow he’s fucked me dumb already and I’m a babbling mess bent over his desk.  

“Tell you what if you beg nice and pretty I’ll let you cum?” Rhys chuckles. “Can you do that for me, little one?” 

As if snapped out of the trance I’m in I feel my thoughts come back to my head. I’ll beg for him, I’d do anything for this male. I knew the second I met him I’d be utterly devoted to him if he just fucked me right, and by the cauldron he does.

“Please, please, please, please my lord,” I cry, feeling like a cock drunk fool. “Please let me cum!” 

Rhys chuckles, grabbing the back of my hair and angling my head so my cheek isn’t pressed into the wood anymore. I almost wished there was a mirror in front of us so I could see  the way he’s taking me.

“If you  make a mess, you’ll have to clean it up. Can’t have other High Lord’s coming in here and seeing my whores cum all over my desk,” he smirks fucking me harder. 

A sick part of me wanted just that to happen. Hell let the other High Lord’s watch him fuck me. 

“I’ll be good, I’ll clean up,” I rasp out feeling tears prick my eyes. “P-Please let me cum.” I breathe. 

It suddenly occurs to me that this is truly revenge from our last encounter when I wasn’t allowed to let him cum. He wanted me to beg just as hard as he did that night. 

His hand in my hair tightens, lifting my front off the desk. My back is forced to arch and somehow he’s able to fuck me even deeper in this postion. My eyes fly open and I’m met with a pair of raging violet ones. 

“Couldn't reach that pretty clit with your face pressed against the desk,” he smirks and before I can say anything his finger finds that sensitive pearl between my legs rubbing little circles in it. 

My mouth falls open as the coil in my stomach threatens to unravel. His fingers continue their tantalizing ministrations on my clit. The impressive length of his cock digs deep in my belly. I close my eyes for a moment, feeling overstimulated. The hand he has fisted in my hair shakes as he forces me to arch my back more. 

“Eyes on me little one,” he growls and when my eyes flutter open I see his violet ones staring back at me, eating up every reaction I give him. 

My mouth falls open as I slip back into that cock drunk feeling and his eyes drink me up, seemling getting off on my fucked out face. 

“Yeah you like that?” he smirks, not taking his eyes off me. “You like being my little cock slut?” 

The words falling from his lips are enough to have me coming undone for him in a string of moans and cries. Tears fall from my cheeks, and I swear I feel him lick one up before he slams into me one last time, sputtering inside me so deeply I can feel the warmth coating my insides. 

The grunts that fall from his mouth are enough to make me want more, but as he releases my hair and gravity pulls my body to the desk again I realize how spent I truly am. 

I hear the chair squeak behind me, signaling that he’s sitting down, no doubt watching his cum spill out of me as I haven’t gotten the energy to move. 

“Oh little one you’re such a messy girl,” he teases, running a finger up my folds collecting the mixture of our releases that are there. 

I mewl as I feel him graze my overstimulated clit. I pull my head up to examine his desk, pen cups and picture frames are knocked over, papers are lying on the floor. My eyes widen as I see faint claw marks from my nails in the wood of the desk. 

“What did I say about messes?” he tuts behind me.

 I let my body slink to the floor, hitting my knees at the edge of his desk. He runs a large hand through my hair from where he sits behind me and my eyes come face to face to the mess we made. 

Rising on my knees I let my tongue lap up the salty sweetness of him and that's right in front of me. His hand pushes my head down a bit forcing me to take every last drop. Only when the wood is spotless do I feel him thread his fingers through my hair and pull me back so he’s looking at me again. 

“Such a good girl for me,” he smiles, leaning down to give me an upside down kiss. “Let’s get you cleaned up little one, you’ll sleep with me tonight.” 

I’ll give the High Lord one thing, he fucked like a god, but what he really did well was aftercare. Always cleaning me up and getting me fluids. Holding my shaking body until I fell asleep. Something told me he longed for this type of intimacy as well. Cassian was the same that first night as well. Fetching me snacks and stroking my hair. The mysterious third brother, Azriel, had yet to show his cards. But something told me I’d be seeing him sooner than later.

(If your name is highlighted tumblr won’t let me tag you☹️)

Taglist: @yearninglustfully, @moviesismylife,  @readingislife2006, @bookishbroadwaybish, @danikamariemain,  @winchesterbbygrl , @paleidiot , @thatacotargirl , @xmalfoyweasleyx , @readingislife2006, @darling006 , @nayaniasworld , @noelli-smv, @itsbonniebabe , @sweet-chai-amore , @writerloversjm , @darkbloodsly , @prettylittlewrites , @mollygetssherlockcoffee , @panther-girl-124, @tumblgirlie0210 , @whistle1whistle , @librafairy ,  @wolvesnravens,  @imsinistersweetie , @tincanhat 

Permanent Taglist: @fides25, @dissociated-always @crystalferret202, @batboyrhyrhy , @kennedy-brooke , @sunshineangel-reads , @lilah-asteria , @evergreenlark , @cheneyq ,

[kechiwrites]

gentle touch

könig x massage therapist!reader kinktober countdown day 5 (body worship)

synopsis: oh, the military boys were your favourite.

wc: 2.8k

cw: massage therapist reader doing bad medical-ish practice, body worship, light sub!konig, mentions of edging, hand jobs, a little oral as a treat, biting, konig being petnamed as he should (honey), size kink, hints at touch starvation, groping, begging, uncut konig, afab!reader, no gendered pronouns or language.

author's note: i know his dick hex code and it's glorious. mdni.

He’s your last appointment of the day. And what a fucking day it had been, ten hours that should’ve been eight, cinnamon scented candles instead of eucalyptus, a rushed lunch because a client had shown up early, not taking “I’m on break” for an answer.

You knock on the faux bamboo door, waiting for your appointment to allow you entry. When he does, so quietly you almost miss it, you open the door, only for your eyes to land on a broad, strong back, still wrapped in a dark grey long sleeve. He turns slightly, just enough for you to see the thin stubble on his chin, cheek and jaw.

"Hello! I didn't catch you undressing did I?" This time he turns all the way around and you are sure your swallow is audible. Hell, you hope it's audible, you want this dude to know just how impressed you are with what you're seeing.

"No." He shakes his head, rubbing his aquiline nose against the inside of his wrist. It must’ve been broken once before, if the uneven bump on his bridge is anything to go by. Why is that hot? That shouldn’t be hot. You eat up the motion, eyes tracking every twitch or movement of his massive arms.

“Oh…" you're ogling him. You need to stop ogling him. "I actually need you to strip down.” The words burn on your tongue. You must say that a thousand times a work week, but this time, when you say it to him, it sounds…dirty. Like a shitty porn set up. Makes your clean white polo feel vacuum sealed to your skin. He takes a step towards you and you shudder a breath, tensing until you realize he’s getting closer to the lockers to your left.

He’s huge, you think, and when he still doesn’t look up at you, content to let the strands of dark brown hair, nearly black hair, hang in his face, you figure he’s shy too.

Cute.

“And you can use the towel to maintain modesty, Mr. König.” You get the inflection of his name wrong, you know because you’d googled it prior, held your phone to your ear in the staff washroom and listened to a soft spoken German man lilt it to you. There’s a hard ‘g’ on the end where it shouldn’t be, and you apologize, trying again to master it. “König.”

“Right.” He murmurs, “Just around my waist, yes?”

Or it could go on the floor and I could rub my clit on your abs.

“Yes, sir. Around your waist.”

You exit the room, closing it softly behind you. You figure you’ll use the few minutes you have to get a bottle of water, or a sedative. Something strong enough to bring you back down to your customary professional detachment.

When you return, he’s where you expect him to be. Face down on his stomach, his head in the cushioned hole. “S-sorry.” He speaks, voice muffled by his position. The apology comes immediately upon the sound of the door closing and you worry his large frame has cracked the massage table or something. You peer around him, looking for any chunks of polished wood or loose screws.

When you don’t find anything you realize he’s apologizing for his scars, the pit marks of bullets dug out in haste and healed with spite, lacerations haphazardly stitched, then redone a second time with the careful, practiced hands of a doctor in no rush.

“Oh, please don’t be. We get military boys all the time. Nothing I haven’t seen before.” You murmur, and it’s a lie of course. Not that you’ve seen scars, of course, you’ve seen some really storied skin in your time here, being near a base and all. No, it was the man who was an oddity. Mandy at the front desk told you that he’d had to duck through the front door.

His skin is also ultra pale in a way military men usually aren't. Near transparent, the sprawling blue lines of his veins thread underneath his skin, and you can see yourself getting distracted tracing some of the pathways with your fingers.

He hums, and you hope you’ve put him at ease a little bit. You haven’t even touched him yet and the tension in his back is glaring. Anxious people tended to hold a lot of stress, anxious soldiers? You’re just glad he’d booked a two hour instead of the customary hour and twenty.

The oil is cold straight from the bottle and you warm it between your palms before you make contact. He’s warm to the touch, bridging on hot, and he flinches when your hands meet his skin. “Was that too cold?” He groans, but doesn’t affirm or deny it, so you figure it must just be the contact. Slowly, you begin with his calves, tending to and pushing on knotted muscle and tense areas, working out kink after kink, soothing his compounded aches. The oil smoothes down his leg hair and you must be going insane because even that is hot to you. His thighs are even worse, strong and muscled and dimpled in the sweetest places. He shivers when your palms glide over his inner thighs, and he clenches them together when your fingers brush the hem of the towel shielding his ass from your greedy view. As quickly as it happens, he relaxes, murmuring another apology. You hum your own response, and push your thumb into an adorable cluster of moles you see just under the towel.

By the time you get to his lower back, König is almost purring, his gentle breathing often interrupted by drawn out, guttural moans. Whines and whimpers that make your blood hot. He’s holding the worst of his tension there, and you have to lean almost all your body weight into the motions of the massage. His hips jerk up and then down just as sharply when you crest your palm over her shoulder blades, and you don’t imagine the keening noise he makes as he grips the massage table. You’re used to military clients being a lot more stoic but it seems Mr. König is most assuredly not the sort. You reach his neck, framing his throat with your palms and using your thumbs to rub firm circles into his nape. His breath hitches and you find yourself cooing. “Breathe for me, I got you.” The soldier’s hips snap downward again, this time hard enough to shift the table beneath him. Which is more than enough to make you pause. 

No.

It couldn’t be.

The soft music and sound of the water feature on the wall nearly drown out the curse König whispers, but you catch it, and can’t stop your lips from curling into a pleased little smile. This was just too good. You start to finish up his neck, brushing some of his hair out of the way so you can rub your fingertips into the skin just below his earlobes. You guide him to turn over and when he doesn’t respond, you wonder if he’d fallen asleep.

“Mr. König?”

He makes a wordless groaning noise low in his throat, laying motionless.

“I need you to turn over, honey.” You don’t even realize you’ve pet-named a grown man you don’t know. Which is just as well, because it seems to be what the soldier needs, and he rises from the table, clutching the towel in a tight fist to maintain his scant modesty.

You turn towards the side table, pouring more oil into your palm. When you return to face him, you witness why exactly he was so reluctant to face the ceiling.

He’s at least half-hard, a very noticeable ridge lifting his towel. You can’t stop staring at it, even though you know König is trying his best to ignore it. You circle around him, and begin at the foot of the table, going through the massage cycle again; feet, calves, thighs, arms. You zone out, following through your motions, listening to the man beneath groan and sigh his contentment. You reach his chest, spreading your hands over his pecs. They’re big, just like the rest of him, you think and it’s hard not to fucking drool on him. He’s firm but soft, still pleasantly warm, despite being exposed to slightly below room temperature air. He shifts again when you hit a stubborn knot right below his collarbone, and you pause to check in.

“Still good?”

His breathing is uneven, shuddering and laboured. His hands clench and relax from white knuckled fists.

“Yes.” he hisses through gritted teeth, and you’re worried he’s undoing every bit of relaxation you’ve tried to bring him. It’s painfully clear where the stress is coming from, hidden underneath a paltry white towel, the enticing elephant in the room. You put your hands back on him.

Still got 45 minutes left, after all.

You try your best not to look smug, and you fail miserably.

Every stroke and rub you perform across his chest makes his cock jerk and twitch under the towel. You can practically see the cloudy drops of precum that’d be beading as his tip. Your thumb nail skates across his pectoral and catches his nipple and the whine he makes is so sweet you just have to do it again. Soon, you’re barely massaging him, groping the poor man under the guise of your job. A weak grunt snaps you out of your reverie, and when you glance down his abdomen at that godforsaken towel, you can’t stop the quiet gasp of shock you release at his erection. “Ah, I’m so sorry. Very sorry” His flush spreads from his cheeks all the way down to his chest, a gorgeous stewed cherry colour that overwhelms the pale skin you’d worked into submission. His eyes are screwed shut when you can bear to drag your eyes from his cock to his face. His soft, pink mouth is pulled down at the corners, and the heavy, dark slashes of his eyebrows are furrowed together, creating a wrinkle between them you want to smooth out with a kiss.

“It happens all the time. Are you alright to continue?” Your voice is deceptively calm, serene and soft, when all you really want to do is snatch the towel off the battering ram he’d smuggled in here. Your blood thrums, and you ache at the sight of it, at the mere thought of the ungodly stretch he’d put you through.

You will yourself to keep your hands where they are, force yourself to look literally anywhere else. The faux waterfall ahead of you, the wireless speaker droning pleasant, melodic mood music, fuck, you even try staring at the dimmed light fixtures hanging from the ceiling. But every cry and whine forces your eyes down, tempts you to catalogue every inch of flushed skin and threaded muscle. You gnaw on your own lip, and find your hands drifting down, back around his abdomen. You’ve worked through the area already, there is no excuse to be down there, to slip your finger tips under the towel, to push your digits into the skin around his pelvis. “Is this okay?” You have the gall to ask, when you push your fingers lower still, and basically sign your own severance package. Oh but it’d be worth it, to get what you want, to make this big strong man sob with pleasure, to have his mouth on your throat while you stroked him to completion. The memory of his cock in your hand will keep you warm in the unemployment line.

König nods, turns his head towards you but doesn’t open his eyes. His hips cant upwards again, and his towel shifts, parting to reveal his angry, desperate hard-on. He raises a hand from the massage table, letting his mammoth paw land on your hip. He squeezes you, and exhales sharply through his nose when his thumb touches your bare skin, skating over your flesh underneath your work shirt. “Say it.” You mutter and his eyes crack open, just wide enough for you to spot the crystalline blue of his irises between his inky black lashes.

“Please.”

And that’s all you need.

He’s uncut, and the veins blanketing the length of his cock are visible under his foreskin. Pretty in a way you aren’t used to, a denser blush than the rest of his body, but still quite pale. It feels like your hand is moving in slow motion towards it, your fingers twitching in anticipation. The heat of his dick warms your skin before you even make contact, and when you do, wrapping your fingers around the root of it, your fingertips can’t touch. You press your lips together and try not to squeal happily, glee crinkling your eyes.

God is real and he’s an uncircumcised cock on a shy giant.

König’s erection is searingly hot. Soft skin and hard core, jerking in your palm, leaking steadily, nudging at your hand, insistent. Your brain is working full steam and connections necessary to utilize common sense are still not being made. Slowly, you tighten your hold on him, the weight of it is so imposing, you wouldn’t be surprised if imprints of the veiny surface were branded onto your hand once you withdrew. If you ever withdrew. You should fucking withdraw.

You do not withdraw. Instead, you slide your hand up slowly, choking up on the head of his cock before dragging your grip back down. You chance a glance up at his face, watching his Adam’s apple bob with each laboured swallow. The poor man’s jaw clenches and relaxes while you slide your palm over his flesh again and again. Somehow, he hardens further and your eyes widen impossibly larger, the pit of your stomach doing somersaults at the idea of where you want that thing to go, what you want it to do. You get fevered flashes of König bending you over the massage table in your mind, hands on your hips, rutting without sense or logic into you, so hard the surface scrapes against the floor, all while he sobs, his overwhelmed, overstimulated tears splashing against your back while he rearranged your insides. The head of his cock is exposed every time you slide your hand down towards his pelvis. By the third peek, you’re dragging the pointed end of your tongue over the tip of his dick, licking against his head, and coating your mouth with the taste of him. He grips at your side harder, his fingers digging into your hip as he chases the warmth of your mouth. He keens loud, almost mewling when you pull off him, using your spit to ease your hand’s path. By this point, your handiwork is audible, noisy and wet, König’s voice filling the small room. You use your free hand to guide his head to your chest, letting him bend toward you, press his nose into your tits while he begs for you to finish him.

“Are you gonna come, Mr. König?” You thread your fingers in his hair, letting your nails scratch against his scalp, drift down to his nape and up to his crown again.

“Yes, please, please. Fuck.” His voice is reedy and thin, and he wraps his arm around your waist, burying his face deeper in your chest. And then his whole body trembles, and his hips roll towards you, and for a fleeting minute you consider edging the poor bastard, sliding your hand completely off his cock and watching it twitch violently, uselessly in the air.

But he begs so sweetly. And his next session was already pre-booked.

The hand you kept on his head leaves his hair, and you rub the head of his cock with your flat open palm, jerking him off with firm, fast strokes. He bites down on the curve of your breast, and you’re grateful he still managed to retain enough brain cells to not break skin.

“Do it then. Come, honey.” You trill, feeling his tears wet your skin through your shirt. It’s almost instantaneous, so fast it’s kind of impressive. His body goes bowstring-tight, and he squeezes you so hard it almost hurts. Ropes of sticky white seed shoot from his cock, covering your hand and his spasming abdomen. You slide your hand up, milking just the first two inches of him through his orgasm, until he stops your movements himself, covering your hand with his own.

When you finally break contact, you stare at your hand for what feels like ages, thick beads of his cum rolling down your palm, sliding to your wrist. You extricate yourself from his hold, using your clean hand to brush his sweat damp hair from his forehead. You press that kiss you wanted to the space between his brows. Why start restraining yourself now? His body shivers periodically, and you turn to the sink, to wash your hands clean, clenching your own thighs together, his moans and sighs echoing in your mind. You turn to face him, grinning wide and cheery,

“So...I’ll see you next week?”

hoe, you are getting fired! at least you got a man outta it though.

support city girls who love gummy worms, reblog what you like.

find the rest of the masterlist here.

[peachesofteal]

Imagine being a 24/7 lifestyle sub with ghoap being the doms 🫣 with an eternity collar and everything

I’m foaming at the mouth like a rabid raccoon

🪦

18+ / pre- negotiated everything / ghoap x reader / consensual everything Good girl who waits at the door on her knees for her boys to get home.

Good girl who sits quiet and naked and doesn't move a muscle until it swings wide and they appear on the other side, mouths curling into predator's jaws, excited and gleaming with the glint of sadism that makes this entire thing work.

"Have you been good, darling?" Simon circles, inspecting. A firm hand between your shoulder blades presses you the cold, hardwood floor, thumbs spreading your folds wide from behind for inspection.

"Yes, sir." Your tongue tastes polish, the black sheen of a boot.

"Did ye miss us?" Johnny rubs the flat of his palm over the swell of your ass.

"Yes, sir." You breathe. Your body burns, pulses, in the dregs of desire, the ache between your legs long shifted from delicate to ravenous, sweetness to agony.

"Did ye touch?" He explores your body, stroking down your slit, swirling fingertips in the sticky mess that leaks from you. He clicks his tongue. "Ye didnae touch, did ye? Did ye leave this little pussy alone like promised?"

"Y-yes." you stammer, and then bite your tongue. You might have, once. Briefly.

When you fail to punctuate with the honorific, a hand cracks against your ass.

"Sir!" You grit, and Simon chuckles.

"Bet I could make you cum right now then." He thumbs your hole, lightly tapping against where you're desperate for him to push inside, and you bite down on your tongue to keep the pleads from spilling out. "Let's see how swollen you are." He moves you in a blink, your back now flat against the floor, and he positions your feet wide, allowing unfettered access for both of them.

"Poor thing." Johnny coos, spreading your folds with two fingers, knuckle brushing your clit. The contact jolts, sends electric shock up your spine, and your muscles tense, nearly shaking. Simon hooks a finger in your collar and tugs your face up to his for a kiss, long and sweet with emotion before pulling away. The softness in his eyes lingers, and then vanishes, and you know you won't see it again for hours.

"Give her a kiss, Johnny." He instructs, and Johnny knocks your thighs wider, mouth closing just over your clit, tongue flicking against the bud. "That feel good, love?"

"Yes, sir." You're well practiced at speaking under... duress, like this, but it's still a feat. Simon's lips curl into a smirk, and your eyes widen.

"Did you touch yourself, good girl? Did you rub this little clit while we were gone, make yourself come when you weren't supposed to?" He reaches between your legs, stroking a slow circle before closing this thumb and his forefinger in a pinch.

You shriek.

"Tell the truth, now." He's stern, but still, you shake your head.

"Poor darling, just couldn't wait, could you? Couldn't control yourself."

"N-no. No, sir. I didn't- I didn't..." Johnny's pulling something up his phone, video playback of some kind, but you can hardly focus over Simon still holding your clit firm, the pressure too much, but with no friction. Your sanity feels like it's starting to slip away.

"What's this then?" Johnny grabs your face, cheeks squished, and your stomach drops when he presses play, video feed of yourself in bed over a week ago, eyes closed in bliss, hand obviously moving between your legs under the covers. Oh, fuck.

"I didn't mean to." You whisper. You did... but that's not part of the scene. "I swear, sir."

"I think you need some help with this, love. Clearly, you can't be trusted." Simon hums, and then pulls you up to your knees, and then feet.

When he marches you to the bedroom, you know your fate is sealed.

The restraints are always soft. They tie you easily, arms, hands, knees and feet, hooks and o-rings drilled into the bed frame so they can easily string you up. Usually, you love being tied. Love the feeling of helplessness, of being powerless. You're always loved, cherished, taken care of. Unable to make any decisions or do anything on your own, just the way you like it.

Johnny kisses your pussy sloppily, tongue and teeth and lips all over, paying special attention to your clit, working you closer and closer to an orgasm, but pulling away at the last second. It goes on for too long, possibly hours, and you turn to pieces.

It's turned you into a teary, whiny mess. A desperate, pleading girl at the mercy of her boys.

You think you'll finally be given reprieve, finally given your reward when Johnny pulls away to undress, Simon too-

but all hopes are dashed when Simon produces the wand.

"Sir." you whine, trying to flex, but he shakes his head.

"Stay still." It starts on low, not nearly enough to bring you to the edge, and Johnny holds it to your clit, just barely making contact.

You want to scream.

"Please, sir." You won't be able to do hours of this. You'll fall apart, you know it.

Still, they both shake their head. Your hips twitch, head tossing, and Simon smoothes a hand over your belly, stroking the inside of your thighs before covering Johnny's, turning the intensity up, the head of the wand vibrating at the higher frequency, sending shivers and shocks through you. Yes.

"Does it feel good?" Johnny coos, eyes trained on your cunt. You nod, catapulting towards an orgasm.

"Yes, sir... please, can I- ah, fuck, can I cum?" You're going to explode, and you can't until they say. It's ingrained in you.

"Ye can." Johnny says, "give us a big one, good girl, that's it. Look at her, clenchin' up nice and tight." Your orgasm washes you clean, wrings you out, and your spine tenses and then relaxes, thighs desperately trying to close around the wand.

It doesn't stop. Your eyes widen, and Simon presses the button, increasing the intensity- again.

No.

"Stop." You croak, but they only shake their head.

"Cannae stop now, love. Ye've got so many to give us." Your eyes roll back into your skull, body already primed and racing towards another orgasm, muscles too tight.

"N-no, I can't- I- ah, ah- I'm goin' cum, stop, I can't-"

"Go on then." Simon instructs gruffly, giving you permission at the last second, and it rockets through you, explosions erupting through your veins. He doesn't pull it away, and you nearly shriek as it walks the line between pleasure and pain.

Another orgasm comes just as quick as the last, and you cry out, legs straining against the restraints.

Johnny licks your cheeks, kisses your lips, and then slips the velcro belt under your back after it's over.

"No! No, no, please, please-"

"Shhh. It'll feel good, promise." He laughs, bringing the velcro around your belly, strapping the handle of the wand in so the head rests directly over your clit, without anyone having to hold it. "Just what the doctor ordered, hmm? Got to give ye all ye can take, since ye need it so bad. Couldn't wait till we got home."

"I'm s-sorry, sir. I'm-" You choke on your words, and Johnny rubs your arms, positioning himself on all fours above you, nose in your neck.

Not fair.

Simon sees your outrage, and smiles.

"Only good girls get a cock in their hole." He says seriously, and Johnny's eyes flutter shut, lip tugged between his teeth. "Deep breath, good boy- here it comes." You see the moment Simon pushes into his body, the way Johnny's stomach muscles tighten and flutter, how his brows pinch together. He moans, and so does Simon, and your heart aches at being left out.

The wand doesn't allow you to wallow for long. It burns against your sensitive nub now, and when your face starts to heat, Johnny watches intently.

"She's goin' cum again." He groans, body bouncing with the force of Simon's thrusts. His fingers play in the wet slick between your legs. "Fuck, darling. Love when ye get the bed all messy like this." Simon shoves his cock deep and Johnny's mouth drops open, and then they both still, watching, waiting.

"Are you close?" Simon asks sweetly, false sincerity dripping like the tears on your cheeks. You nod pathetically, and they rear back to watch your pussy, more focused there, over your face. "Poor little thing, can't stop 'erself, even if she wanted. Maybe you do need a doctor, love." You're delirious, half listening, half moaning, half delving into madness. You can't tell where your orgasm begins in this moment, the wave of it overtaking you in a gasp.

"Maybe we should have the captain look at her." Johnny grunts, pushing himself back onto Simon, panting. "Have him and his missus give her an inspection."

"Ss-sir," you moan. "sir, please, s-stop. I can't cum anymore." They ignore you.

"We should invite them over." Simon shoves Johnny forward, and his lips curve against your skin, kissing your cheek over and over. You don't know who they're talking about, but sharing is such an alien concept to you right now, the only thing you're able to focus on is the painful bloom of pleasure.

"Fuck, fuck- Simon- Johnny, ah-"

"Again? So soon?" Simon chuckles, and then he cups your pussy, pressing the vibrating head closer, and you scream into your orgasm, black dots spreading across your vision until there's nothing left but a void of darkness.

The next thing you know, you're untied, unstrapped, with your cheek smushed against Simon's chest, Johnny rubbing your back with a washcloth. "There ye are."

"Hi."

"Hi, darling. Welcome back."

[keyaho]

summary: nami gets a bit beside herself. terry's control snaps and he gets a little petty.

word count: 4k

graphics by @firefly-graphics & @cafekitsune

authors note: this is for the brats. not the ones that know they are brats, but the ones where it just....slips out accidentally and you "have to see it through ma boy".

Part One || Part Two

“Stop watching my hands.” 

Nami looked down at the organic chemistry book in front of her. She was sitting at Terry’s dining table, to the left of where he spanked her last night. There were no hooks in the table and sitting somewhere normal felt odd. The numbers had long since blurred and every time she looked back to the problem she was working on she was confused. Reading through the problem from the beginning, she quickly found her place, scribbling with her mechanical BIC pencil until she was at the end when her thoughts began to wander. 

Terry’s eyes were on the television, his body stretched out on the couch. One arm was tossed on top of his head and his black sweats cuffed around the ankles. His shirt was embellished with ‘marine’ in thick white letters. Something was on tv, but she couldn’t remember the name of the series. He was two episodes in and silent about it. You should be studying instead of watching tv anyway. Terry hadn’t taken his eyes off the tv once since turning it on. He hadn’t moved either and the tent in his sweats was getting larger. She had earned her first Play Time.

This was the most relaxed she had been in a while when it came to her studies. 

“What number are you on,’ he asked, finally turning his hazel eyes to her. 

She sat in the chair wearing just one of his shirts. It was currently eight-thirty and Terry claimed to have plans for them later this afternoon. When he learned she needed to study, he took her home to get her study materials, clothes, and anything else she needed. He waited on the couch with arms stretched over the back of it like he lived there. 

Out of twenty questions, the easy ones she breezed through, she had finished sixteen. The last four were multi-step and required a deeper understanding of the material. 

“Sixteen.” She replied. 

“Still?” 

It wasn’t like he was offering to help and she didn’t even know if he understood anything about organic chemistry. Hell, she barely did. Looking down at the smudged paper where she almost erased a hole into it, she sighed, dropping her pencil to rub her temples. 

“You’ve been over there tapping that calculator and shit,’ he sat up just enough to place the tv remote on the table. “I figured you were one from done.” 

He swung his feet to the floor and stood up, but walked towards the kitchen. He opened his fridge as she looked down at the textbook angrily. This was the one class she hated the most. She sat comfortably with a B in it. Just enough to pass for the credit towards her degree. 

He grabbed two waters and walked towards her. Placing one on the table beside her books, he stood behind her. Terry leaned forward, his head resting on her shoulder before his lips found her neck. He had pulled her hair to the side, sucked on her flesh while she tried to focus on the problem at hand and not the one causing a problem between her legs. 

Nami slid her hand to the side. It was the first time her hands weren’t bound or held and she wanted to touch him. She had tasted him twice, but being able to feel him in her hands had her thought’s racing. Perceptive, Terry grabbed her wrist and brought it to his lips. 

“Am I distracting you?” He asked. 

Nami didn’t want to say yes. He had a habit of going into the room and closing the door. That wasn’t what she wanted. 

“No, it’s just….hard.” 

Terry laughed softly and pulled her up from the chair. Turning it so the back was against the table he sat down and pulled her to straddle his lap. His hands landed on her thighs. 

“Pick up the pencil.” 

He pulled her left arm behind her back, keeping it still while the other palmed her sore ass. 

“Work through the problem.” 

He hiked up the shirt until it was bunched around her waist and rubbed her thighs. Pressed up against him this way she had to be still. Nami started from the top and soon realized her mistake from previous attempts. She erased again, correcting herself and finding the rhythm to finish the problem. She double checked her work before moving on, slightly uncomfortable with her arm in his wrist behind her back. Terry’s hand crept under the shirt and cupped her breast, his thumb then worked back and forth over her nipple, tugging it just enough her breath hitched. He kissed along her jaw and neck, tugging downwards on her nipple until she let out a pained sound. Her hips jerked forward and he swatted her ass, his hand leaving her breast exposed and cold. 

“Keep that ass still.” 

Nami began the next problem, cycled through it while Terry reached for her breast again. This time his hips moved. It was slow at first. Teasingly slow. 

“You want to know something,’ he says, his hips bucking upwards as he holds her still, ‘I know this pussy is good.” 

He grinned as she struggled to keep still. “You want to know how I know?” He asked. 

“Yea, Sir,’ she breathed. 

“Because you don’t know what the fuck to do with it.” 

She moaned as his fingers dragged towards her clit from the back. 

“This pussy leaks, drips, and cries. Every time I look at it, it’s so fucking wet You need my dick don’t you?”

“Yessss Sir.” 

“I know. I know.” Terry began playing with her clit, his grip on her arm tightening. “S’okay,’ he slurred, ‘I’m going to teach you.” 

Nami let out a long sigh to disguise her moan. 

“Didn’t I say stop watching my hands?” Terry’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts. 

Nami jumped, wiped the drool on the side of her lip and stared down at her paper. She looked down at herself and realized she had zoned out and imagined him that close. He was still stretched out on the couch across the room from her. 

He flicked his eyes back to the tv.  “What number are you on?” 

Nami flipped back to the previous page, opting for a little white lie, her day dreams had her wanting to make them a reality. Fuck the homework. She wanted him. 

“Nineteen,’ she looked up and saw his eyes on her. Grabbing the calculator, she input the problems components and began equating them on her paper. She’d finish them when she was home and away from his presence, but she wanted to pretend to be trying to finish. 

“When you’re done, come here.” 

Nami’s hand snaked between her legs moments later, just grazing her bare cunt. Fuck. She held a sheet of paper in her hands and since her bag was between her legs on the floor she could-

”Aye!” Terry snapped. “Touch my pussy if you want to.” He looked at her. “Hands on the table.”  

She worked her mouth into a frown as he scolded her. Her eyes narrowed slightly and she sat back in her chair, dragging it across the floor to get closer to the table. She threw her elbow on the table before her arm fell flat on the wood surface. She snatched up the calculator and used it to cover face, pretending to need it that close to use it. The movements were so fluid that Terry’s brow shot up. Oh? 

Who the fuck was she getting an attitude with? Terry thought. 

“Chill.” Terry replied instead, brushing off the exchange. 

Nami looked up at him and gave a shrug, no verbal reply followed. Terry’s hand twitched. Staying quiet, Terry sat up, and grabbed the remote before turning off the tv. Nami suddenly scratched at an itch in him to correct. He had learned early on that when it came to submissiveness, black women couldn’t entirely let go of their attitudes and when they popped up they were often mislabeled as brats. Nami wasn’t a brat. She just had an attitude and clearly it needed adjusting. She was testing his patience. His control. Him. She was testing him. 

Normally, a verbal correction could shape all that up. However, she wasn’t responding to him. Nami replied with her body and it was irking him. This wasn’t about him in the end. She wanted him to react. She wanted his hands on her. She wanted the correction and she had no idea what it looked like. 

“That’s definitely strike two.” He told her. “Why you playin’ right now? You fucking up your Play Time.” 

Terry had planned to indulge in one of her kinks and finally taste that pussy. Why would she want to mess that up? 

"What number are you on, Nami?" With all this playing she had better be done. 

“I’m not done.” 

“Did I fucking ask that?” Terry’s resolve shattered and he stood up. 

Nami watched him approach, his fingers rubbing together to tether himself. His restraint was slipping. He let out a long breath through his nose. 

“No.” 

“No?” He repeated as if giving her a clear chance to turn all this around. 

“No.” Her shoulders shrugged.

 Terry reached out before he could stop himself and fisted his hand into her hair. 

“Get up.”  Terry lifted her to her feet with his grip on her hair. It was just tight enough to guide her to her feet without pulling. He didn’t want to make her cry. Well, not right now. 

He suddenly released her hair and took a step back. His shoulders rolled as he craned his neck side to side, stretching out. She stood there, rubbing the back of her head in just his shirt. He could push her to her knees and have her swallow his load over and over. He could choke her on his dick, spank her until she cried, but she wanted that. This just wasn’t the way to get it. 

Scratching his chin, he took a seat back on the couch. 

“Pack up.” He pointed towards her stuff. “I’m going to take you back home.” 

He dropped her cuffs back into the drawer and stood to go find his shoes. He stepped into his bedroom leaving her there with her mouth half open. She didn’t want to leave, that's not what she wanted him to do. She wanted his hands on her, bringing her to the cusp of an orgasm so she could feed the itch between her legs. Nami wanted him to touch her and move her the way he wanted. Instead, she watched his retreating back.

He didn’t close the bedroom door this time but she knew entering would make things worse. Huffing, she returned to her seat and put her bag on the table. She started shoving her things back into it and didn’t notice that he had stepped to his door and leaned against it, watching her. His arms folded over his chest and let his new toy dangle from his fingers. The leather was cool in his hands, but he was sure once it was used it would warm right up. 

“So you can listen?” He says as she yanks the zipper on her bag closed. 

Nami looked up a full pout on her full lips. “Yes, Sir,’ she whispered. 

“Huh?” He said, cupping his ear. “That apology needs to be as loud as that attitude was. Don’t get all shy now.” He saw her eyes wandering to his hands and he snapped his fingers. “Look at me.” 

“We’re about to talk about boundaries. Cause you are pushing some buttons today and I want to wear that ass out. Last night would be a cake walk. You won’t be able to sit when I’m done with you.” 

“You told me you were about to take me home.” Nami replied. “We can talk about it next time.” If he was going to say something she was going to make him stand on it. She figured that since he was taking her home she could speak freely. 

Big mistake. 

“Nami,’ he sighed, ‘I’m giving you a chance to fix your attitu-’

“I don’t have an attitude.” 

If there was ever a moment for a record scratch now was it. Terry laughed, it didn’t reach his eyes, but the sound sounded joyous. He pushed off the door frame and walked towards her. Nami’s eyes dropped to his crotch. Oh shit. His dick was still swinging side to side as he walked, but it was not hard. Not like she had thought it would be. Not like last night. He was serious.

“Yeah, that shit aint cute.” 

When he was in front of her, she looked up at him. Feeling his body heat as he worked his tongue around his mouth. His jaw ticked and she so badly wanted to reach out and touch him. She hated that rule. 

“I’m not trying to be cute.” 

With some restraint, Terry grabbed her face by the jaw, his fingers pressed into the flesh there as he guided her to sit on the couch. 

“Nami, shut the fuck up.” 

He sat on the table in front of her and she noticed the riding crop across his lap. He grabbed the front of her shirt and dragged her to the floor. She landed in a huff and he tugged on her hair, pulling her head backwards. He saw the pleasure in her face and shook his head. 

“You could have just asked me for this.” He says, his hand smacking her cheek in a test pop. “Is this what you want? You want me to rough you up?” 

Terry his hand tightened in her hair as he stood up, leaving her on her knees. He saw her hands move towards him. 

“Don’t test me, Nami.” 

He was doing a lot of talking, he realized. He was trying to diffuse the tension between them, maybe get back to what he had planned for the day, but she wasn’t making it easy on him. She placed her hands in her lap, clenching them into fists. Terry was swiftly moving this time, the crop dropping to the floor as he brought Nami back to the table. He laid her on her back this time, stretching her further across the wood. Her arms dangled over one side and her legs the other. He stopped talking, moving through cuffing her to the table with ease. She stared up at the ceiling, her chest rising and falling as she began to over think his next move. 

Terry sat on the couch and pulled the table closer to him, her added weight making no difference to him. He placed her feet on the table and spread them apart, ignoring her pussy beginning to glisten. He only stood up to push her shirt up, covering her face. Nami’s body rolled to the side in confusion, trying to shake off the shirt. 

Stinging.

He struck her with the riding crop on the outside of her thighs. Then again and again. And one more time until she realized she was supposed to be counting. The pain had jarred her mind and she couldn’t think clearly. She bit down on her lip to keep from crying. 

The cold leather rubbed between her legs, up her inner thighs, and her legs fell open from the soothing sensation. It was followed promptly by a sharp strike to her inner thigh. 

“Five, Sir, please,’ she begged this time. “It hurts…..” 

“What the fuck does that have to do with me?” 

He switched sides, the crop landing on her sensitive skin on her left. He dragged it down the valley between her breasts and delighted in the way her body shivered. Now, he was getting hard. This turned him on. He couldn’t see her face, but she was shaking her head side to side still, her arms tugging on her restraints. The cold metal cuffs bit into her skin and she almost dropped her foot from the table. 

“Six, Sir,’ she sputtered, the crop landing on the underside of her breast, her nipple nearly swatted. "No, no, no, no,no...." she whined.

She only had four more though she didn’t know it and he was going to make them count. Coming to stand behind her head, he reached between her legs with the crop and stroked her cunt with it. When the leather began to shine with her slick his hand joined by slowly spreading her wet lips apart. Like a flower she opened up, and he thumbed her clit a few times. He wanted so bad to dip his fingers into her and play in her nectar, but again ... she did what she wanted and acted up. 

“Oh, Sir,’ she moaned, hips rising to seek out his fingers. 

He drew the crop back and smacked it against her clit, the scream she let out was loud and sent blood rushing to his dick. He kept her open, stroking her down to her weeping little hole, then using the crop to remind her of the reality of the situation. 

“Eight, Sir,’ she turned her head towards her arm, the shirt in the way as she blinked through the tears. She wanted to enjoy his thick fingers but the crop ruined the sensation just as quickly as it started. 

He applied another hit to her thigh, still stroking her pussy. His fingers were drenched and when he drew his hand away the crop landed just below her clit. Her legs snapped shut around the crop, locking it in place as she cursed. 

“Ten, Sir, please….” 

“Open your fucking legs,’ he growled. “Now!” 

Her legs feel apart slowly, the red skin on her thighs beginning to welt. Terry admired his work, the way she dripped on the table and off his fingers. He left her hooked to the table and retreated to the kitchen for a bottle of water. He looked at her while he drank. Nami was bound to his coffee table like a work of art and if he didn’t have anything to do he would leave her there. Then again, his kitchen was low. He could use a few groceries. Terry soon tossed the empty bottle into the trash and clapped his hands together. Nami heard a jingle of keys and the door opening. 

“When I get back you had better work through that shit.” 

Terry arrived back at the house two hours later with lunch and food for the house. He looked to the table and saw Nami was relaxed, too relaxed. 

Dropping the bags on the table, he placed their food on the stove before tossing his keys, loudly, into the bowl he kept them on the foyer table. He walked to the table where Nami was spread out and pulled the shirt off her head. Big brown eyes, red from crying, stared back up at him. 

“I’m sorry, Sir,’ she whimpered, eyes looking away from his intense stare. 

“You’re sorry,’ he said, kneeling so they were closer to eye level. 

Terry rubbed his hand across her belly, eyeing the welts on her inner thighs. He knew her ass was still sore. 

“Yes, Sir.” 

“It’s not even noon and I’ve had to punish you twice within twenty-four hours.” He stood up and unhook her arms. “Did you work through whatever little attitude you had before I left?” 

Nami sat up with his help and brought her cuffed hands between her legs as she sat up. She rested them on the table, tugging at the hem of her shirt. She winced as her legs stretched out. Her shoulders relaxed and she felt her back slump forward. 

“Yes, Sir,’ she says. 

Terry uncuffed her hands and kissed the inside of her wrists. He kissed up her arm until they were nose to nose. He lifted her head and kissed her briefly. 

“It’s way too early for you to be getting an attitude with me.” Terry grabs her jaw in his hand. “Don’t do that shit again.” 

Helping her up, he guides her to the kitchen and sits her at the counter. She places her hands on the table and he removes the cuffs. Before he walked away he stood beside her and leaned against the counter.

“What do you need from me?” 

She wanted to scream to touch him. Why couldn’t she? It was the only rule that was making her go crazy. 

“A hug.” She pouted. 

Terry smiled and pulled Nami into his arms. He kept her hands between them, flat against their bodies as he cupped the back of her head with one hand and wrapped the other around her waist. She rested against him, hoping for a bit more contact, and sighed. 

“Let’s talk.” 

Terry slanted his lips over her, kissing down her jaw and neck as he breathed in. He then slid a sheet of paper and pen across the island while walking to the other side. She looked down to see a list of kinks, ranging from vanilla to extreme chocolate. She picked up the pen as she sat. 

“Circle what you like.” 

“I haven’t done half of this,’ she admitted, wondering how to even pronounce half of these kinks. 

“Underline it if you’re curious.” He looked down at the paper. “Cross it off if it’s a no.” 

He turned his back to her and began putting away the items he bought. Organized to his liking, Terry shut the pantry door and walked to the stove. He took out his takeout boxes and remembered his order with a chuckle. Both were still warm and he plates them with his back to her. Nami was quiet as she read through the list. Many of these she was curious about and underlined them, kinks she hadn’t thought to be kinks were circled, while she made sure to circle everything she liked. Terry’s phone went off again and he turned his head slightly in the direction of it. Letting it ring, he reached into his cabinet for glasses, using water from the fridge to fill her cup. He brought that first, looking down at the paper while she ran the pen over it. 

“Dirty girl,’ he mumbled. “My hand should be a necklace,’ he reminded her with a smirk. She made sure to circle choking. 

“You’re not supposed to be looking yet.” She pulled her paper closer and used her arm to cover it while she finished up. 

Terry leaned back, giving her space, and turned back to their plates before bringing them over. He had a bowl of pasta, grilled chicken and broccoli, nothing too heavy, this early. Nami breathed in the smell of chicken and looked up. Her smile dropped when she realized what was on her plate. 

Fries. 

Chicken tenders. 

Nami looked down at the plate then back up to Terry. He stabbed his fork into the pasta before bringing it to his mouth. 

“Something wrong?” He asked. He followed her gaze to her plate. “You act like a child, I will feed you like one.” 

Nami pursed her lips, her stomach growled before she could say she wasn’t hungry. Terry smiled, and pointed towards the plate. “Eat.” 

“Do you have ketchup?” 

“The fridge.” 

As she got up, he slid her paper to his side of the island. His hazel eyes raked over the paper, making mental notes of which kinks paired well together, others he’d have to ease her into, and those he’d have to isolate and focus on individually. She was big on lack of choice if her choices of asphyxiation and sensory deprivation were any indications of it. Nami slid back in the stool watching him read through the list. Over one hundred different kinks listed and the anticipation of trying them gave her a tingling feeling.

“We’ll get to these," he pushes the paper back to her. “It’s been two days and you’ve done a lot.” He eyes her, thinking about how much fun they could be having had it not been for her moment earlier. “Does anything we’ve done so far make you uncomfortable?” 

Nami thought back to the moments leading up to now. The online chats, the first lunch, the first night together, this morning ... .all of it, and she couldn’t think of a moment that she wasn’t enjoying herself. 

“I’m confused about something,’ she says, jabbing a fry in the cold ketchup. “I mentioned the type of situation I wanted and I don’t know when one begins and the other ends. Or if-’

”I want you to get used to me as your Dominant, then things will progress. I’m learning about you.” He replies, hoping his answer isn’t aloof. She needed the truth. They were compatible so far. Blurring the lines so soon would end up bad for the both of them. 

“Oh, okay,’ she replied. “I think I get it.” 

“I don’t want you to think.” He says with a shrug, ‘I want you to let me be in control.” 

“What does that look like?” 

Terry placed his fork down. Being questioned was one thing, but Nami genuinely wanted to understand so he couldn’t be upset that she didn’t have blind faith. If anything, he was elated to know she wasn’t going to lie and take whatever he gave her, though he hoped the moment he sunk into her p-

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Terry blew out a breath. “Following my rules. You’ve been good at no panties. That’s more so for me.” He smirks. “The way your ass shakes when you walk by me is undeniable. Know that I am looking at your ass.” 

Nami reached down and tugged on her shirt. “I like making you squirm.” He lowers his voice, the rich baritone sent shivers down Nami’s spine. “I like how wet you get when I touch you. I want you to know I can easily make you feel good. If you listen to me.” 

“Are there more rules?” 

“You know my rule on what color to wear with me. If you don’t have enough I will take you out shopping.” 

Nami nodded. 

“No alcohol. I was worried when you went out. I’m glad you told me where you were. The location on your phone should always be shared with me.” He paused. “When I want you I want to know exactly where you are.” 

“No touching me,’ he reinforced. “That is an earned privilege.” 

Nami wanted to press why, but the look in his eyes changed her mind. “Yes, Sir.” 

“You’ve already learned that that pussy is mine. Don’t touch it without my permission.” He wanted her wet and weeping by the time he fucked her. He wanted her pussy sore from just the thought of getting fucked. 

Their plates emptied quickly and Nami sipped on her water. 

“Most of the spaces we will be in together, I require you to be seen and not heard.” His tone grew serious. “I frequently visit play parties, mostly to see what’s new and whether or not it’s something I would do. Usually I am alone, but you’ll be going with me. Those nights I can’t be your boyfriend.” At those parties, Terry lurked in the background. He tried to avoid being the center of attention, but once one person saw him and spread it, there was no hiding. 

“Do you participate?” 

“Are you interested in voyeurism? Do you like being watched?” 

“No, Sir,’ she says. 

“Then no. I don’t.” 

He didn’t seem to mind that she realized. She tried to think of more questions but she wanted Terry to push her limits. She knew her safe word. 

“Nami.” 

She looked up, her curls wild as she pushed them over her shoulder and behind her ears. She was so fucking pretty. He remembered her tears and the way they ran down her cheek as her body sought more from him, betraying her displayed emotions. He wanted that again. The tears and the way her body sought more from him with each swat to her smooth skin. The way she choked on his dick the first night, how her throat just opened up to swallow him. 

“Above all, I need you to trust me. You have your safe word.” 

Taglist: @nayaesworld @peachbuttetfly @harmshake @heauxvibez @avoidthings

@mymindisneverhere @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @eilujion @heytaewrites

@browngirldominion @insidefeelingofanadult @blackerthings @gwenda-fav @brandithecrystalgem

@captainwithoutmakingitlove @dremmmm @kindofaintrovert @thegreatlibraryofalex @jimmybutlrr

@beenathembo @kuromiish @virgomess @bbyxgall @theereina

@randomhood @ash-ketchumzzz @dundienominated @gg-trini

[faeriekit]

Snow Day

SO IT TURNS OUT @tourettesdog also had a far-frozen based Phic Phight prompt so here's a sister fic of Snowdrift Sanctuary from yesterday okay please and thank you

Tundra peeked around the pillar of ice. Again.

The human was still there.

…Tundra peeked left. Tundra peeked right. No one else had seen them yet.

The human, in a big coat and big boots was squatting in the snow, drawing shapes Tundra couldn’t make out with their finger.

Tundra’s tail wagged. Well. He didn’t have a very long tail, so he mostly butt-wiggled. There’d never been a human at the Far Frozen before!! Tundra had heard of humans — he’d seen depictions and heard stories, sure. But now a human was here. And they lived here.

That was so cool.

So, maybe Tundra wanted to say hi! So what? Mama had said that he should be nice to the human, since they needed help and shelter that the Chief would provide, but they were also new and interesting and they hardly ever had anyone stay with them who wasn’t a yeti ever!! Maybe they’d let Tundra play with them while they were here?

So Tundra got down on his haunches. He crawled over the snowbank, wriggling as he went, taking advantage of his coat that blended into the terrain.

The human didn’t see him at all.

Tundra bared his teeth in a play grin, eyes squinting, tongue caught between his teeth. The human was so close. He crouched down as far as he could. He waited until the human wasn’t looking.

Tundra pounced.

And then there was a flash of green burning through the air, hot and bright and loud. Tundra startled.

He landed in the snow, dazed and off-balance. He could feel a hot spot in his fur—putting his paw to it, Tundra could feel where his fur was burnt to singed ends, the tips of each hair bulbous with char.

There was a steaming hole in the snow behind him.

…Oh.

“HOLY SH—are you okay?? Did I hurt you?? I’m sorry!!” someone shouted. Someone gently turned Tundra’s head, careful not to move him too harshly or too quickly. “Is your head okay? Are you bleeding? Is—“

“…Cool.” Tundra muttered, eyes still stuck to the hole in the snow. That was so strong. Even Avalanche wasn’t that strong, and she beat everyone in the tournament last season. No wonder the chief was in charge of the human ghost, even if there were lots of adults willing to help.  

“Sorry, I’m so sorry,” the human apologized again, hands on their flat, pink face. Huh. Their hair was white now. When did that happen? “Usually when ghosts sneak up on me, they’re, uh… they’re not usually playing.”

Tundra looked at the human’s flat face and frowned. They got attacked? For real, and not for playing? “That’s mean. I hope you got them.”

The human made a strangled noise. Super weird! “Yeah…yeah. I did.”

“Good,” Tundra decided, back straightening straight up. The human was about as tall as he was, but humans were smaller in general. They were probably older. “If anyone attacks you now, you should get the Chief to eat them, and then they won’t attack you anymore.”

The human made another choked noise. Tundra assumed it was a laugh. He grinned back, pleased with the response, and wriggled back upright. “I’m Tundra! Mama says that you’re older than me even though we’re just as tall as each other! Are you a boy human, or a girl human? Or neither? Or both?!”

“…I’m a boy,” the human said, voice weak. Tundra peered in close at him, trying to see if he’d been injured too, but no; he looked fine, and he got his black hair back too.

“Cool,” said Tunda. “So am I. Arctic is too, but he’s big already, so he doesn’t want to play all the time. Do you like hunting?”

“I’ve…never hunted before.”

Not ever? Tundra gasped. “We can play chase, then, and then the chief can teach you how to hunt! And then we can hunt together!” Tundra scrambled to his feet, excited. “Do you want to stalk Avalanche with me?! She always throws me off, and then we can wrestle!”

The human hesitated.

“Or,” Tundra amended, because the human was still kind of small, “You can watch me stalk Avalanche, and watch us wrestle, and then I can teach you to stalk the chief so that you can wrestle with someone you know is safe.”

The human snorted, the fur cuff from his sleeve hiding his face. “I don’t know…isn’t he busy? You know, being the chief and all…””

“You’re supposed to wrestle your parents,” Tundra assured him, chest fur puffing up with pride. “I used to chew on Mama’s ears all the time when I was a cub. Now Avalanche and Arctic and everyone else can wrestle with me because they’re big enough to know how to stop playing before they squash me flat.”

The human laughed, openly and brightly, and it sounded nice.

Tundra stood so that could he could launch himself back towards the settled part of their little patch of the Infinite Realms. “Come on!!” he shouted, more than eager to play. “Last one there doesn’t get any fish eyes!”

There was a moment of silence—and then they were both rolling in the snow, the human having decided to launch into him!! This was great!! Tundra whooped, feigning bites and wriggling while the human pushed him further into the depths of the snow. The human’s grin was kind of wide and weird without a muzzle, but that wasn’t his fault, and he was having fun!! And so was Tundra!!

And the human-ghost could fly, and Tundra couldn’t, so chasing after him was super fun. They made it all the way back to the settlement in no time flat, dodging other kith and kin—

And running into Mama and Chief Advisor Pritla on accident was worth how much trouble he got into later.

Whoops!

[skulla-rxcks]

Gaping guns

Paring: ot8 x afab reader

Rating: explicit

Genre: smut

Warnings: gun fucking, face fucking, PIV, unprotected, group s3x

Day 12 of ktober - You wake up in a random house and agree to have sex with a group of men, not knowing that it would be the most pleasurable experience of your entire life.

Taglist: @f3lix00 @channiesgoodgirl @mal-lunar-28 @bangchans-gf5 @fun-fanfics @iwannabangchan @linosluver

Please dm me or use my inbox if you’d like to be added to the taglist ^^

THIS IS PURE FICTION, NOTHING IN THIS IS REAL ITS JUST A STORY!

I’m walking back my car after doing my weekly grocery shopping, all the heavy bags I’m carrying hurting my arms, they’re definitely going to leave marks. As I continue walking I can’t help but wonder why I parked so far away, yeah sure the parking lot was full but could I at least have found a spot closer? my feet move along the concrete dragging myself along. Suddenly I feel someone or something grab me from behind. I fall onto the concrete behind me and hit my head, completely blacking out.

I wake up on a rich velvet covered house in what seems like a fancy dining room, I rub my eyes and sit up, looking around. there’s eight men sitting around the room I’m in, are they the ones who brought me here? I wonder. “you’re awake. finally.” one of them says in a deep Australian accent; his hairs blonde with a strong but petite build. “what happened..?

where am I? who are you guys?” I ask him, my eyes scanning the other men in the room as I wait for an answer.

“don’t worry about that now,” another man replies to me, he also has a similar accent to the guy who woke me up, but a bit more buffness in this build, his biceps popping out of his tank top.

“we’ll take you home if you let us fuck you, yeah?” fuck me? hopefully not all eight of them,, right? “would you let us use you, bunny?” one of the eight says. “I.. okay. but what are your names so I know what to.. scream?” I ask, crossing my legs as I sink into the couch. “Chan, Felix, Han, Seungmin, Jeongin call him I.n if easier, Hyunjin and Minho, oh and I’m Changbin.” the one who called me bunny says, Changbin. “okay.. I’ll try remembering all of your names.” I respond. “good girl.. take off your clothes for us.” Chan says with his thick accent, walking behind me and putting a gun to my head, threatening to pull the trigger if I don’t. the gun intimidating me enough to make me strip right then and there. “undergarments too.” Han giggles, walking up to me with a knife, cutting my underwear and bra off with a quick swipe before pulling the ripped material from my body.

“legs open. princess.” He adds, his strong hands forcefully pulling my thighs open to reveal my already wet pinkish cunt.

Chan kneels down infront of me, licking a stripe down my soaked folds. “what are you.. nngh..” I moan out, the sensation of being touched by his tongue making me whimper already. “I’m tasting you baby girl.” He chuckles, spreading my folds open and thrusting 2 fingers inside of me, curling them up and finding my g spot almost immediately.

“Fuck!” I gasp. “We’ll do that soon enough baby.” He replies, making a joke out of my moans.

“Who wants her first? And which hole?” He asks the rest of the boys; Changbin says he wants my ass, Felix says my pussy and Jeongin says my mouth. I thought they’d all use me separately but I was wrong as I see the three men walk towards me while taking their pants and boxers off as well as their shirts. All of them seem to have amazing bodies, abs, muscles and perfectly fit, you can tell they work out quite a bit.

Chan moves away and stands behind me again, watching as the three boys position themselves at the entrance of my holes. I moan in a mixture of pleasure and pain as all of their dicks impale me at once; Changbin’s making me whimper the most,

I’ve never had anything in my ass before so it feels like he’s ripping me open. “Fuckk..~” I cry, my words muffled from Jeongin’s cock in my mouth, I hear him gasp as my words send vibrations throughout his length. Felix starts moving inside of my pussy, his cock rubbing slightly against Changbin’s through the small barrier of skin. “Dick… so much… mmgh!” My eyes roll back as all three of them start penetrating my holes, my entire body shuddering at the sensation.

The rest of the boys are watching, staring at the scene with lust filled eyes stroking their own dicks as they watch my body get absolutely destroyed.

Chan leans over and takes out his gun again, rubbing it against my clit, adding to the pleasure these strange men are giving me. Minho comes over, tired off waiting he rubs himself against my breasts, beginning to leak all over my chest, his groans adding to the noise we all are making as he rubs his dick against the soft skin repeatedly.

“I’m gonna fucking cum!” Felix blurts out “can I fill you up?” He asks, I shake my head in response. No. What If I get pregnant? As much as I’d love my womb being filled up with Felix’s seed I sadly have to say no. He ends up pulling out and cumming all over my stomach, leaving my pussy gaping while Jeongin and Changbin are still going at my mouth and ass.

Hyunjin begins to walk over, taking Felix’s place and beginning to penetrate my pussy, thrusting way harder than Felix did, making the sound of skin against skin echo in the room. Jeongin fills up my mouth with his warm salty semen, not pulling out until I swallow it all; Seungmin pushing him aside and using my mouth now.

“So pretty..” Chan giggles, slapping his cock against my face as he watches me get violated by his friends, watching and paying attention to every thrust filling up my holes, and every groan and moan that we all are making, as well as the noises of Changbin’s and Hyunjin’s balls slapping against me. “Stay still..” Changbin Groans, wrapping his hand around my neck as he fills up my asshole with his thick seed, the feeling of his cum in my ass making me feel all warm inside. in the meantime Minho stops rubbing against my breasts and takes my ass instead now, thrusting harder and harder until he releases his load inside of me, Hyunjin follows after and then not soon after Seungmin does too.

Everyone’s Either filled me up or their cums stained on my skin, just as I thought we were done Chan pushes the boys away and commands for them to sit down - as if he’s their leader or something. “I’m not done with you yet.” He says, standing in front of me, kneeling down before shoving his gun into my vagina thrusting it in and out of me. “C..chan..? That’s a gun not a.. a dildo..” I tell him, earning a chuckle from him in response. “I know that, but I’m going to use it as one.” He shoves it in me deeper and deeper making me squirm until I cum all over the gun, hopefully not ruining it.

“Bend over the couch, get into doggy. He demands, I do as he says, bending myself over the arm of the chair, arching my back as my ass sticks out for him. “Good girl” he smirks before pushing into my vagina, thrusting himself in and out of me at a rapid pace. Using one of his hands to squeeze and play with my ass, while using the other one to slowly finger my ass before bringing up the speed to match it with the pace of his thrusting. I moan in pleasure, tears forming in my eyes as he uses me; fucking me harder and faster than any of the guys did. It could just be that he’s extremely fucking horny or that his dicks bigger than the others. Either way, I don’t care. “Chan..!” I cry, tears running down my face, wetting my cheeks with a hint of a glistening sparkle from my makeup as my mascara and eye shadow runs down my cheeks with them.

“You feel so fucking good. I’m going to cum inside this little tight cunt.” He says, growling into my ear.

“No.. I’ll get pregnant!” I call out. “So? I’ll get you plan b pills after this. Just need this right now, need to cum inside this slutty cunt of yours it’s the only part of you that hasn’t been filled up yet.” Chan groans, pushing his cock deeper into my pussy. “A-ah. But.. b-b-but..” I try to reason with him but I can’t he’s too deep inside me for me to complain about it, I look over at the rest of the guys who are now pleasuring each other; sucking and jerking each other. Some of them even kissing. But I can’t seem to focus on that now, all I can take in and focus on his dick penetrating my pussy, Chan’s dick to be exact.

“God you’re so cute.. can’t even talk! Fuck I’m gonna.. I’m gonna fill you up with my seed, take it, take it all you slutty bitch!” He screams out as he releases himself inside my cunt. When he pulls out I moan, feeling empty again.

“Gonna go get the pills now.. if you’re still horny maybe have another round with the boys..” Chan chuckles as he walks out the door to get the contraceptives. I nod and walk over to the rest of the boys, wanting to. No. Needing to be fucked one last time.

[jeon-ify]

insecure - mingi

mdni. 18+

warnings: semipublic sex, reader is insecure, swearing, semi car sex, mirror sex, just smut tbh

-

the pores on your face aren’t sitting right. every time you put makeup on, your pores just show through your primer, through the foundation and past the concealer and setting powder.

this was your last straw.

tonight, mingi was taking you out to his favorite restaurant to celebrate your 3rd anniversary as a couple, and boy was he overdressed.

he had his black suit on with a dark red handkerchief, and a pin with your initial on it— something he’ll cherish forever, gifted from his best friend yunho.

“mingi, i’m not going. i look and feel like shit. can we just go another day?” you’re on the verge of tears. you didn’t like the way the dress looked on you, your makeup wasn’t looking good at all, your hair felt flat and icky.

mingi’s head turned so fast, you could’ve sworn he broke his neck. “babes, what’s wrong? you look beautiful to me. that’s all that matters, hm? why do you feel like shit?” he asks, holding your arms in his hands, rubbing circles on your forearms.

“cus, bro, look at my hair and my fucking dress and my fucking skin is so ugly. no matter how much primer or skincare or shit i put on my face it’s still ugly. so stop telling me i look beautiful cus you’re lying to the both of us.”

you argue in a way that makes mingi’s breath hitch, at shock from the way you start to disrespect and insult yourself. he never heard you talk about yourself like this since the day you met him, what made you so insecure all of the sudden?

his hand moves its way up to your throat, squeezing at the sides, putting pressure on your soft spots as you sigh.

“i have never heard you speak like that about yourself a day in my life, and i never wanna hear you talk like that again. am i clear?” he scolds you, holding your jaw and tilting your head up so he gets a clear view of your makeup.

“you look so fucking good right now, y/n. i’ve been holding myself back from ripping that dress off you and fucking up all that makeup on your pretty face. put those red heels on, spray your burberry perfume and don’t put any panties on. understand?”

you put on his favorites all in under one minute. you finish touching up your makeup, sliding your panties off and putting on the red heels mingi left by the dresser for you to wear as he waits downstairs. you spray burberry her, a perfume mingi loved on you, and head downstairs.

mingi is scrolling through his phone for a while before watching you walk down the stairs. you feel his eyes on your braless chest, making your heart and stomach flutter.

“we don’t even have to go to dinner tonight, i could just fuck you in that dress and call it a night, to be honest.”

he confesses. you playfully slap his shoulder, walking behind him as he locks the door to your shared home. you walk behind him as he opens your side of the door, closing after you. his car smelled so fucking good. it had a clean and musky scent to it, much like how mingi smelled when he walked out of a fresh shower.

he turns on the radio to mask the tension in the car after the scene that just took place in your room. you remember that you’re not wearing any panties, and that if mingi touched you right now, you could be so quick to ruining his leather seats. he liked to touch you while he was driving, as he’s a very touchy person. as you’re holding his hand, his thumb presses into your palm, pulling out a gasp from your throat. his gaze on the road darkens, mingi getting hard just from the sounds you’re making. his hand moves to your thigh, rubbing circles and inching closer to your bare heat. his fingers hide under your dress, as his middle finger rubs slow circles on your clit.

“m-mings, pay attention to the road.” you moan, your false lashes fluttering as you try to keep your eyes open. you hold his wrist as you try to pull him away from rubbing too hard on the spot.

his middle finger enters your hole, thrusting slowly. he stops at a red light as he puts the car in park to lean over to place one hand on your mouth and fuck you with his other hand. he fingers your pussy as fast as he can. when you’re pulsing and clenching around his digits, the light turns green, and mingi pulls his fingers away, using one hand to steer, and placing the other hand in your mouth, cleaning off your juices and precum from his fingers.

as you arrive to the restaurant, mingi lets you out of his car, holding your hand and walking in with you. the place is almost like a museum, statues and portraits fill the walls as the music plays through the soft speakers.

“go to the bathroom, i’ll follow you in 5.” he looks around, waiting for you to start.

“why? we just got here.” you respond as you stand up, mingi looking into your eyes, not saying a word. you don’t say anything else, walking towards the bathroom. you know exactly what he wants.

you get into the bathroom, looking at yourself in the mirror, trying to prepare yourself for what’s about to happen, thinking of ways you can avoid your makeup messing up.

the door flies open as mingi walks in, immediately grabbing at your hair and bending you over the counter. he uses his free hand to pull your dress down to expose your chest. your nipples come in contact with the cold marble as you moan from the contact. mingi humps onto your ass as your body jolts forward. he pulls your head up from your hair, making you look at the view in the mirror.

“now, what were you telling me when we were at home and you said i was lying to you? calling me a liar, baby?”

he bends down so your back is against his chest, his lips in contact with your ear as he kisses your jaw, waiting for your response.

“p-please-“ you moan. he pushes against you, feeling how painfully hard he is as he presses against your ass. when he doesn’t get the response he needs, he lands a sharp slap on your cheek.

“asked you a fuckin’ question. do you think i’m a liar? do you think i would ever lie to you? are you doubting how much i love you? lift your dress up and watch how i fuck you.”

“babe, someone could walk in any m-“ you try, but this doesn’t stop him. you lift up your dress and grind against him. and instead, he pulls his cock out and rubs it against your folds.

“let them. let them watch how i’m fucking my beautiful wife. my pretty baby. this pussy belongs to me, i’ll give you my children. gonna fuck all of my cum into you and make everyone watch how fucking sexy you look while taking me and fucking you dumb.”

he pushes his dick into you, starting at a rough pace. your body jolts and quivers as he makes you watch the way your breasts bounce with every thrust he gives you. you grasp onto the edges of the sinks next to you, trying to find balance in the way mingi is fucking you senseless. he hits a spot that makes you squirt, your juices dripping onto the tile beneath you.

“look how pretty you are. my fuckin’ angel. prettiest woman i’ve ever seen. you have it all, baby. makes me cum on sight, y/n. i love you��� fuck, i love you. love you so much. made for me, doll. say it. wanna hear you say you’re beautiful.”

he groans as his thrusts come to a halt. you start to whine and cry out for mingi to slow down, but he only gets harder the more you beg.

“i ca-n’t take it mings, i’m fucking cumming, play with my clit, daddy. make me cum,” you cry. mingi complies the fastest he’s ever complied, feeling you clench down onto his cock as if he were gonna leave at any given moment.

“say you’re pretty while you’re cumming on my dick, wanna watch you.”

you feel like your legs are gonna fall off when you try to hold yourself together. your pussy starts to drip mingi’s cum, as yours follows suit.

“i’m be- fuck mingi! i’m beautiful! i’m cumming again, daddy, stay in me.” you cry. something about mingi watching you cry and beg just to prove a point makes your head spin and your cunt throb.

“fuck, i feel it, there you go, gorgeous. so pretty when you cum. imagine how pretty you’d be carrying our children.”

-

head spinning

taglist: @bbae98 @haohaoshoe @k-hotchoisan @stolasisyourparent @atinytiny @isiloiale @kpophosblog @nakiiko @certifiedmoa @aaniag @wonusbbg @yunnieo @chosoteta 🤍

[zepskies]

Lost on You - Part 11

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Supe!Reader

Summary: 1983 is a big year for you. You’re finally chosen to join the ranks of Payback, led by the most (in)famous supe in the world: Soldier Boy. He’ll never admit that he’s trying his damndest to figure you out. You’ll never admit that he’s actually growing on you. But the problem with this game is deciding who’s the predator, and who is prey.

AN: In this episode, we're in for a team up, Greek mythology, and possibly the biggest reveal yet…

Word Count: 3.2K

Tags/Warnings: Angst, mentions of abuse/torture, PTSD, violence, and another cliffhanger (sorry).

🎵 YouTube Playlist || Spotify Playlist

🎙️ Series Masterlist

Part 11: Heroes and Monsters

The only thing the TNT Twins ever bought with their money was a lavish mansion in Vermont. It was high on a hill, flanked by forest, and therefore perfectly secluded when Ben and Donna broke through the oak wood doors of their house.

“Hey, kids,” said Ben. He strolled into the living room with a smooth, purposeful gait.

The twins jumped with a start on the couch. A loud and crass action movie was playing on the screen.

“Ben,” Tessa gasped.

“Donna?!” Tommy said, pointing from Donna to Ben. “What…what’re you guys…how did you get…”

“Ooh, is that Pulp Fiction? I wanted to see that one,” Donna remarked. Her brows furrowed. “But wait, it’s still in theaters. How’d you get a VHS?”

“Oh, um, Tarantino gave me a copy as a favor, so we wouldn’t have to sit in the theater with all the mouth breathers,” Tessa said, with a wrinkle of her nose.

Tommy’s face slid into a smirk. He raised a conspiratorial hand to his mouth and pointed at his sister.

“She sucked his dick.”

That tidbit of information was accompanied by a lewd hand motion, and gagging sounds. Tessa angrily punched her brother in the shoulder.

Ben raised a brow. He made slow steps forward with an edge of menace. The twins caught on and stood up straighter, but somehow looked even more like cowards as they immediately started groveling.

“We’re so, so sorry, Ben,” Tessa tried.

“It wasn’t our idea,” Tommy added. The twins backed up near the glass doors, Tommy nearly tripping on the Persian rug.

“Of course it wasn’t,” said Ben. “You idiots barely have two brain cells to rub together.”

“Please don’t kill us,” Tessa pleaded. “Or at least, not me. I didn’t really do anything—”

“You bitch!” Tommy said incredulously.

“Shut the fuck up!” Ben snapped. “Here’s what’s gonna happen.”

He was stopped short by a rigorous shootout on the screen as the movie played. The sound of it was like a machine gun, bullets spraying over and over. It made his breath hitch. His eyes began to glaze over as a memory overtook his vision. Of being strapped to that metal slab, and Eisenstein and his team trying to find out what could actually hurt him, on the inside.

Ben’s chest grew impossibly hot. Distantly he heard voices calling his name.

Before he even realized what he was doing, the smell of burning filled the air, and that terrible, nuclear power escaped from his chest.

When he came to, he blinked the gaudy living room back into frame. Except now, it was burnt to a crisp. There was a large gaping hole where the French doors and most of the wall used to be, leading to a sunny day.

The TNT Twins were gone.

Shaking the fog and blackness from his mind, he turned and only saw Donna. She’d been cowering behind a piano. Slowly she came out of her hiding place with wide, horrified eyes.

“What the fuck did they do to you?” she whispered.

Instead of answering her, Ben strode out of the ruins and grabbed her arm, hefted her to her feet, and took her back to the car. She slid into the driver’s seat and started the car with shaking hands. He settled in the passenger seat and got out the cell phone he'd stashed in the dashboard compartment.

“Yeah?”

“Arthur, it’s me,” Ben said.

“How’d it go with the TNT Twins?”

“They can’t help.”

“What? Why’s that?”

“Because they’re fucking charcoal, that’s why,” Ben snapped. There was a pause on the other line.

“Okaaay,” Arthur said. “Well, I’m still working on some leads on Sirena. In the meantime, I found Gunpowder. He had a little unfortunate incident at a gun show in Texas, so he’s on some mandated R&R.”

Ben blew out a frustrated breath, but he nodded. “Where?”

“Kempton, Pennsylvania.”

Ben and Donna arrived at the Hawk Mt. Shooting Range. There were several steps up to the main building, then even more forest behind as it surrounded the base of a mountain.

“There’s literally a Hawk Mountain Sanctuary not even an hour from here. It’s like going to Sea World to hunt Shamu,” Donna groused.

“Would you shut the fuck up already?” he said. “I don’t want to hear any more of your tree-hugging bullshit.”

“That’s another thing. You’re always so fucking belittling,” she said with a glare sent his way. “Does Sirena like that about you? Or is she just deaf and blind?”

Ben grabbed her arm and yanked her to a stop. He raised a warning finger.

“Keep her name out of your fucking mouth,” he said darkly. “One more smartass word and I’ll sure as shit make you regret it.”

Donna’s mouth snapped shut. She was still angry, but she had the presence of mind to avert her eyes. When he was satisfied, Ben released her. They kept walking, but no matter how he tried to shut her words out, they kept filtering back into his mind.

You’re a bully. A fucking monster. And sooner or later, she won’t be able to stomach you anymore.

He managed to push that thought to the back of his mind as they entered the building. Donna either knocked out or killed the handful of staff members, while Ben continued on to the back of the shooting range.

Well then. Someone ate their fucking Wheaties.  

Gunpowder was a bit bigger since Ben last saw him. He hardly recognized his former sidekick, now a grown-ass man in his late 20s. At least he wasn’t so scrawny anymore.

And he heard the moment Ben stepped into the outdoor range. After he fired off one more birdshot, Gunpowder whipped around with a large shotgun in hand. His face fell into shock when he saw Ben.

A dead pigeon landed on the ground between them.

“Charlie,” Ben greeted, with a tilt of his head. He stalked forward. The man opposite was frozen in shock, but it wouldn’t have mattered if he’d pulled the trigger on his gun anyway.

“S-Soldier Boy—”

Ben ripped the weapon out of his hand. He closed a hand around the younger man’s throat and walked him back until he hit the fake mountain wall that framed the shooting range.

“Ben, he didn’t even know!” Donna said from behind.

Charlie shook his head in agreement. “I didn’t! I swear—”

“Oh, I know. But I bet you didn’t ask any fucking questions, did you?” Ben said.

He remembered that day with perfect clarity. He remembered how the rest of them turned on him.

Except for you.

“But you’re gonna make it up to me,” Ben said, with a grim smile.

Charlie was shocked, as if he’d expected a quick death. “H-How?”

“You’re going to help me find someone.”

“Who?”

“Sirena.” Ben’s lips twitched humorlessly at the ashen look on Charlie’s face. “You remember her, right? She’s the other teammate you guys sold out and giftwrapped for the fucking Commies.”

Ben slammed him harder against the wall, and his chest began to glow. Charlie’s face fell further into fear and horror.

“Ben!” Donna warned. She didn’t dare touch him, but Ben could feel her close by. He glanced at her over his shoulder.

“The TNT Twins were probably useless, but we need him,” she reminded him. “We need every body we can throw at this.”

Ben hated to admit it (so he wouldn’t), but she had a point. It took him a minute to wrangle in his ire, taking deep breaths to try and calm the power inside him. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn’t.

This time, it actually worked.

His hand fell back to his side, letting Charlie breathe freely.

“Let’s go.” Ben turned on his heel and headed out.

“Where, uh…where’re we going?” Charlie asked, rubbing his sore neck.

“Looks like we’re getting the team back together,” Ben said grimly.

He tilted his head.

“Well. What’s left of it.”

Two weeks seemed to be an eternity in this cell. Somehow it was even more dull than when you were in Siberia. At the very least, the torture broke up the day.

Vogelbaum had taken a few vials of your blood to analyze, but otherwise, you were left alone.

Your only companion was John, who you discovered was just a ten-year-old kid. He was occupying one of the untold number of cells in this lab. You couldn’t pinpoint exactly where he was, but he felt close by.

You two had been having daily conversations. He told you that he’d grown up on this compound, in the very room they held him in. He didn’t remember his parents, if he had any. He only remembered Dr. Vogelbaum, some guy named Marty, and a few others in the facility.

All of them had run experiments of their own on him. It had broken your heart to hear it from a child.

They’ve burned me a lot, he admitted once, with a sniffle. It never leaves a mark, but…it hurts.

I know, bud. I’ve been burned before, you said, disheartened for him. They wanted to find out how strong you are, huh?

Yeah, I guess. What about you?

Not very, is the answer. I’m more durable than the average human, and I heal a little faster, but…not that strong. My powers don’t really help me as much physically.

What’re your powers?

Well…I’m a siren.

You sensed his confusion. He didn’t know what that was, though he maybe didn’t want to admit it.

Have you ever seen adventure movies? You know, the ones about pirates and buried treasure? you asked.

Um, I’ve seen movies, but Vogelbaum called them documentaries.

What were they about?

Pioneers in the Wild West. The old South. How we conquered the Indians, and why America’s the best country in the world. Stuff like that.

You grimaced. So that wasthe kind of education he was getting in this place.

Okay, a lot to unpack there later, you said. But anyway, you read books, right?

Yeah. They give me a lot of books.

That, you could work with.

Okay, have you ever read The Odyssey? Greek mythology.

Y-Yeah. I remember Odysseus. He’s a hero.

Right, exactly. Well, one of the creatures he comes across on his journey are the sirens. In the story, they live on an island. They’re beautiful women, with beautiful voices. They lure sailors in with their songs and their magic, and the men fall under their spell, every time. They end up wrecking their ships and falling to their deaths.

So…the sirens are monsters.

Yeah, they are, you agreed. Your shoulders deflated with your deep sigh.

I can…compel people. If I touch them, I can make them do whatever I want. Especially men. I know when they’re lying. I know what’s in their hearts when they look at me. And I’ve used that to my advantage. To use them.

That fell between you two for a moment. You could sense John thinking, processing.

Do you like your powers? John asked.

You smiled humorlessly.

No, you answered. You’d never admitted that to anyone before. They’re meant to manipulate people, to hurt people.

I don’t want to hurt people, John said, after a beat. But…I um. I did a couple times. You know, on accident.

I’ve known people who hurt others on purpose, because they can. Because it’s fun. You don’t sound like one of those people.  

I don’t want to be. They…want me to be a hero one day.

His voice sounded small again, and almost scared. Like he was afraid of what he could do, and possibly, what Vogelbaum and Stan Edgar and everyone else wantedhim to be.

Well, that’s good. You should never hurt someone just because you can. Or even, just because someone hurt you, you advised, even knowing you were a hypocrite.

Then, an idea formed in your mind. How many times had they burned him without leaving a single mark?

Are you strong, John? you asked him.

Yeah, he replied.

For the first time since you woke up in this nightmare of a place, your smile was genuine.

How strong?

Ben claimed the master bedroom for himself. Charlie and Donna took root on the couch, catching up and reminiscing on how their careers had shaken out after Payback was dismantled. Donna mostly complained about being a permanent fixture at Voughtland.

“At least they got you set up with something stable,” Charlie said. He passed a blunt back to Donna after a long puff. “I never know where the hell I’m gonna be, week after week. Always putting me up in some piece of shit hotel.”

“At least you don’t have to take pictures with snot-nosed kids all day,” she replied, though she eyed him with a smile. Charlie caught the look, with a smile of his own.

“You look good,” he said. “I like the haircut.”

“Oh, stop.” She absently toyed with a strand of her shoulder-length hair. She’d been dying it a deeper red lately. “You really grew into that helmet though.”

He chuckled bashfully. Said helmet was resting on the coffee table, next to the big bag of weed Ben had bought on the way to Virginia. Charlie leaned closer to her and pointed a finger toward wherever their esteemed leader had fucked off to.

“He’s smoking like a chimney, even more than he used to,” Charlie said.

“He’s self-medicating,” Donna nodded. “The Russians did a number on him.”

Part of her maybe twinged with guilt, but even now, she felt justified in her decisions. It wasn’t like she could go back and change anything. Still, if she had known that it would all end up here…

“Christ,” Charlie shook his head.

They stopped their conversation when Ben’s heavy boots thudded back into the room. It seemed that he’d finished his nap, and now ventured out in search of booze. He grabbed the whiskey bottle on the dining table and a glass from the kitchen to give himself a generous pour.

“Uh, I’m thinking we could get some food,” Charlie broached. He got up from the couch. “I don’t mind grabbing something for us.”

“Sit your ass down,” Ben said sharply. He nodded at the landline phone. It sat on an accent table next to the couch. “Order something that delivers, because no one’s going any-fucking-where.”

Charlie pressed his luck one more time. “I’ll be right back, I swear—”

Ben sent him a look of warning. It was enough to make the younger man deflate in surrender.

“Pizza it is,” he said. When Ben turned to head back to his room, Charlie couldn’t help muttering, “For the third time in a row.”

Ben heard him, of course, but he just rolled his eyes. He returned to the bedroom and cracked up the radio on the nightstand. He couldn’t stand hearing any more of Donna and Charlie bickering about what to put on the pizza or what to watch on TV. In a way, it reminded him of old times.

Fuck old times, he thought. He didn’t even much enjoy them the first go around.

He set his glass down on the nightstand and laid in bed over the covers, folding his hands over his chest. He closed his eyes, but rest wouldn’t come to him. He thought of you, and where those bastards at Vought might be keeping you. He could only imagine what they were doing to you, and by now, he had a good imagination.

His jaw clenched with anger, and he drew a hand over his face in frustration.

He felt like he’d already failed.

He’d promised you that you weren’t going back to a cell, that he wouldn’t allow it…and that he’d protect you.

Believe it or not, Ben knew what he was; or more accurately, what he wasn’t. Despite how he’d propped himself up otherwise, deep down, he knew he wasn’t a hero.

But if he could make just one honest save in his long, long life, he’d be damned if it wasn’t you.

No matter how you tried to convince him, John was reluctant to try and escape his cell. You sensed that he didn’t want to leave the facility, even after everything they’d done to him.

At the end of the day, you realized, this was the only life he knew.

Look, I know you’re scared, but we can help each other, you tried to reason with him. I have a…well, I have a boyfriend. His name is Ben. I know he’s looking for me, but I’m not sure he’ll find me here. I need to get back to him before Vought tries anything else.

John didn’t answer you. You sighed. Maybe a softer approach…

What scares you most about leaving? you asked.

I don’t know! Look, just…just leave me alone!

John, wait—

I said leave. Me. ALONE!

The force of his shouted thoughts made you wince. The connection snapped back on you like a rubber band as you lost focus, giving you a stinging headache that radiated behind your eyes. You gasped and rubbed at your temples.

You felt bad for pushing him, but you really needed his help, damn it.

Just when you were about to try and reach out to John again to apologize, and hopefully soothe him, the door of your cell opened.

Vogelbaum was back with a couple of guards armed with tasers and guns. This time, the doctor had a few more empty vials.

“Good afternoon,” he said.

You pursed your lips, but you made no moves to evade him when he came over to sit beside you on your cot. He swabbed at the inside of your arm where he intended to pierce a vein with the needle he held, followed by vials one, two, three, and four of your blood.

“What are you taking my blood for, exactly?” you demanded to know. This was the second time already. “What happens after I fulfill your objective as bait, and you try to set your little trap for Ben?”

Vogelbaum glanced up at you. “We’re not going to hurt you, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Somehow, that still didn’t make you feel any better.

“And why is that?”

“I’m taking your blood to run additional genetic tests,” he said, for the moment ignoring your question.

“Why? What genetic tests?” you pressed.

“Well, this is something we haven’t seen before. It’s going to require a closer look, and some close monitoring of your progress.”

Despite his stoic expression, you sensed a spark of interest in him, of clinical fascination. It reminded you of Dr. Eisenstein. Immediately you were set on edge. Prickles of unease crept down your spine and made you feel cold.

“What do you mean? The Russians’ experiments didn’t do much of anything,” you lied.

“I’m not talking about that,” said Vogelbaum. He finished taking your blood, removed the needle, and cleaned you up.

“Then what?” you snapped. You were losing patience and getting even more worried.

Vogelbaum applied a small bandage where he’d pricked you with the needle, then stepped away.

“Congratulations,” he said in his usual monotone, as he pocketed the vials. “You’re pregnant.”

AN: 🫣 hides until next week lol

Next Time:

We come to Payback's Avengers: Civil War moment!

“Look, we don’t have to do this,” Charlie tried. “Just let him get Sirena out of there. After what you guys did, she doesn’t deserve that.”

Ben glanced at his former sidekick. He actually seemed sincere.

Too bad Noir wasn’t about to go for it. He had Vought’s dick so far up his ass, he wouldn’t likely take a shit without Stan Edgar’s say so. He crouched into a fighting stance and unsheathed his katana. The rest of the guards poured in to flank around him and Mindstorm.

Ben rolled a crack out of his neck.

“Fine. If it’s a war you want, it’s a war you’ll fucking get,” he said.

Noir started charging at him first, but Donna shot off a fireball in his direction.

Chaos ignited from there.

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 12

Join Patreon 🌟 || Series Masterlist

Soldier Boy Masterlist || Main Masterlist

Soldier Boy Tag List:

If you would like to follow along as I post each chapter, please follow my side blog @zepskieswrites with notifications on so you don’t miss out. 💚

@spnwoman @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @adoringanakin @rizlowwritessortof @chernayawidow

@midnightmadwoman @deans-spinster-witch @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78

@deansbbyx @sarahgracej @this-is-me19 @kazsrm67 @jacklesbrainworms

@foxyjwls007 @iamsapphine @roseblue373 @lacilou @fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like

@waynes-multiverse @my-stories-vault @syrma-sensei @alwaystiredandconfused @globetrotter28

@mrsjenniferwinchester @charmed-asylum @waywardxwords @k-slla @deanbrainrotwritings

@jackles010378 @deans-daydream @deanwinchestersgirl87 @rachiem4-blog @just-levyy

@leigh70 @kmc1989 @ghostslillady @siampie @jessjad

@beautyvaliant @mimaria420 @kaleldobrev @pieandmonsters @twinkleinadiamondsky

@stoneyggirl2 @sl33pylilbunny @spnfamily-j2 @mostlymarvelgirl @artemys-ackles

[coyotelip]

rosekiller microfic: dressed || @rosekillermicrofic || wc: 417

“Where are you going dressed like that?” comes the irritated voice of his father behind him as Barty is about to leave the house for the night. 

The thing is, he's not even wearing anything really weird or indecent. Simple black skinny jeans with holes in the thighs and knees, a white t-shirt and an emerald jacket over it with a loose Slytherin tie around his neck with several silver chains. His nails are painted black and green, and he has fake tattoos on his fingers that he started drawing out of boredom a few months ago during boring lectures. 

Barty finishes lacing his heavy boots and turns to his father, shrugging. “I don't know what you're talking about, all the young people dress like that nowadays. So I don't think I care what a conservative old man thinks.” 

Bartemius Senior comes even closer to his son and grabs his tie. “What is this? You're not even in Slytherin!” 

Without restraint, Barty pulls the tie out of his father's hands and turns on his heels toward the door. “I'm tired of talking to you, go on with your own business and let me have my fun.” 

Without waiting for an answer, the boy slips out of the house, heading for the crossroads, where a tall shadow is already waiting for him in the dark arc of the garden. Evan leans against the stone archway, smoking his cigarette in boredom, but a fire flashes in his eyes when Barty comes into view. 

“Ho ho," the guy whistles, looking Barty's figure up and down. “You look good in green.” Evan tosses the cigarette butt away to wrap his own tie around the boy's neck in the palm of his hand and pull him closer, exhaling hot air into his lips.

“And the blue on you brings out the color of your eyes.” Barty smiles against his lips, inhaling the sharp smell of tobacco and grabbing at his own tie around Evan's neck. “My old man almost made a scene. What about yours?” 

“Hmm.” Evan shrugged. “Mother looked at me with displeasure but didn't say a word, she was too tired to do anything. But we had the dear Black cousins visiting, and Bellatrix was fascinated,” his plump lips spread into a wide smile and draws the attention of the boy across from him. 

They stare at each other for a few seconds, blue and green eyes, and finally lock in a kiss, slow because the night has just begun

[str4ngergirlw0rld]

you can’t seem to makeout whos tongue is whos , you’re too far gone in your own bliss , one boys tongue is wrapped around your nipple , you can feel the vibrations of his moans , sending ripples through your body. you can only guess its eddie , he cannot get enough of your boobs , your suspicions are right when you claw your fingers through his long locks and lightly pull at it. your nipple falls out of his mouth with a pop and you lift your head up to look at him. his eyes are still shut , mouth ajar & missing what he needs most. “babyy lemme get my mouth back on you” you oblige his needs and push his head back toward your chest. steve oblivious to this interaction is still suckling on your clit you can see him grinding against the bed rhythmically.

you purposely grind against his face , his nose catching onto your clit. he immediately encourages you to ride his face hooking his arms beneath your thighs, hes so far gone he hadn’t noticed you just came down from your fourth orgasm til you mutter a “steve please” he pulls away , your cum dripping from his chin and he leans over you , pressing his lips to yours , his neglected cock now sitting snuggly over your pussy. not in yet but he knows what you need when you push his and eddies waist towards your pussy.

eddie finally lifts his head and his eyes droop more with love as he sees steves wet chin , he leans in and licks all over his face, when hes done he kisses steve and shoves his tongue down his throat, sharing your cum.

once their both done they turn their heads to you. eddie sits up and steve guides you to straddle his lap. sitting on his cock , as he enters you , you both simultaneously let out a relieved sigh. eddie leans in to give you a soft kiss and makes sure to tell you “i love you baby, you look so pretty , so beautiful, can’t wait to watch you cum all over our cocks.”

behind you , you can feel steves fingers in your other hole getting it ready to take him. once you’re ready enough he pushes you into eddies chest lightly , eddie taking the hint and comforting you, knowing how vulnerable you are in this position. steve pushes in with little to no resistance having prepped you good. he yanks your head back by your throat only for you to look into his eyes. seeing how blacked out they are with lust and love. then he breathes in your ear harshly and tells you “if you take it like a good slut, you’ll get a reward tonight.” he finishes his sentence with a harsh slap to your ass as him and eddie immediately find a good rhythm and fuck you into oblivion. leaving you a screaming mess.

[asuyaka]

Heyy, idk if u're still taking requests or not but if u're not just ignore this!

TikTok really came to drag me down the Satosugu hole by the foot this week goddamn. Anyways, I'd like to request my favorite sad gay boys with a m!reader who's a effeminate soft boy and is usually pretty quiet and cooperative but the second someone says something remotely negative about the two m!reader is already throwing hands and burying the offender's head onto the ground. Bonus point if he's from the Zen'in clan!

No one's ever calling Geto's bangs 'weird' with m!reader around lol.

- '🌈' Anon.

★ - yes! reqs are open !! when the first (yippie!!) one piece one shot comes out s'when reqs are gunna close briefly cause 've got other things m'needa work on! (❁´◡`❁)

☆ - Satosugu x M! Zen'in clan reader!

Lulling chirping sounds sounded through the second-year classroom as the sun began to rise. The sound of sweeping and the screech of desks moving across the table sounded through your ears.

With a gentle hand, you plucked the dead leaves off the bouquet of flowers that usually resided on the window sill next to your seat; plucking off the leaves as well and shaking it so the petals could become more pronounced.

After cutting the stem so water could flow through them, you placed the flowers in their vase and put them in their designated position, a pleased smile on your face when you realized that was the last thing you needed to do for cleaning duty, even though it wasn't your turn.

The door slid open behind you as a tired-looking Yaga walked into class. His eyes widened for a bit when they saw you before his expression turned sour. "Good morning, [Name]. I thought Satoru had cleaning duty for today?"

You bowed politely in greeting. "He asked me to do it because he had to get limited edition crepes today."

Yaga sets his things on the table with an annoyed mumble. "Thank you, please make sure he gets to class on time."

You nodded as you left the classroom. The sun shone down on your face through the windows as you made your way to Suguru's and Satoru's dorms.

You pass by Shoko in the kitchen who was hunched over the counter making a cup of coffee. "Want a cup?" She asks, biting and finishing the remaining pocky in her mouth.

'If Suguru woke up a few minutes ago, he'd want some. Maybe Satoru would like some hot chocolate too.' You thought briefly before turning your attention back to the brunette. "Yes, please. One hot chocolate and black coffee."

Shoko grins at that instantly recognizing the order. "You've got it Mister Zen'in."

You wave goodbye and continue your journey. Suguru's dorm isn't that far from the kitchen so you got there in a short amount of time. You knocked, politely waiting for an answer.

"[Name]-chan? If it's you, you can come in!" Satoru's voice answered.

You open the door to see two bags of delivered crepes beside Satoru, who is painting Suguru's nails black. "See? Got some for you guys 'cause I'm such a nice person!"

Suguru rolls his eyes. "You only got them because you remembered flunking on cleaning duty."

You take a seat beside them, staring at Suguru's black nails. "Yaga says I should make sure you two get to class on time."

Satoru snorts, the tiniest bit of blue peeking out from his glasses. "Yeah, and when have we ever listened to what Yaga says?"

"You don't. Maybe Suguru, but I actually enjoy not getting punched in the head every time you do something stupid." You interject, causing Satoru to gasp loudly.

"Suguru! Do you hear this? I do everything I can to make sure you two are well fed and all I get in return is bullying!" Satoru whines as he sets the nail polish aside to let Suguru's nails dry and picks up the bags with a bright smile on his face.

Shoko kicks the door open with two mugs in her hand. "Here you go losers. Zen'in blink twice if they're forcing you to be here."

Suguru and Satoru stare at you expectingly, an exaggerated gasp when they see your eyes close twice.

Shoko giggles, patting the top of your head affectionately. "Yeah, I'd be scared if I was forced to hang out with them too."

She walks out of the room with a reminder that class starts in a few hours. Satoru brought out the crepes and immediately started eating them as he read the Digimon manga, periodically sipping his extra-sweet cocoa.

"[Name], why didn't you get a drink?" Suguru asks, picking up a crepe carefully so the paint doesn't smudge.

You shrug. "The place I normally get my drinks at is too far to walk in the morning."

Satoru looks at you blankly as he stuffs his face with more food. "I could've teleported, dummy. C'mon, road trip time!" He exclaims as he grabs you and Suguru.

"Satoru, no— you haven't even mastered it yet—"

You feel reality split and your stomach churns uncomfortably for a brief second before everything stills again. The sound of cars blaring runs through your ears as a familiar sidewalk reflects through your eyes. "See? easy!"

"[Name]? Are you okay?" Suguru asks, squatting in front of you with worry all over his face.

Taking a minute to breathe, you feel everything finally settle. You have no idea how Satoru can do that without throwing up. "Yes, I am... okay. Just a little disoriented."

Suguru shoots a glare at the albino who rubs your back apologetically. "Well, my apology is your drink! So come on, I wanna get back to the crepes before Shoko's fat ass eats them."

"Shoko doesn't even like the crepes you order. It's always too much sugar." Suguru defends, slapping Satoru upside the head as the three of you walk into the shop.

It's a small cafe situated inside a bookstore with soft Lofi music playing in the background. The three of you get in line. It's short, most likely due to how early it was but that only meant you could get back to the dorms on time.

You hear snickering behind you but pay no mind. After all, it was a public place, and whatever affairs other people had wasn't your business.

Then, you hear something about how a guy has his nails painted. In the corner of your eye, you can see them pointing at Suguru.

Either Suguru and Satoru notice and they don't care, or they don't notice. Either way, you weren't going to let them poke fun at your friend (boyfriend?) and get away with it.

"Is something the matter?"

They stare at you, visibly sizing you up. "Wondering why your friend has nail polish on, isn't that only for chicks?"

Satoru taps you on your shoulder. "Take it outside, don't want you to beat their ass and get banned, yanno?"

You acknowledge him but keep a sharp gaze on the two of them. "Giving gendered terms to inanimate objects is an extremely stupid thing to do. It is not on you, so why should you care what he has on?"

The implication of calling them stupid seemed to hit a nerve because a vein pops in their forehead and their fists clench. "Cause it's fucking gay. What? You like taking it up the ass too?"

"If a fight is what you want, then that is fine with me. Do not let your petty ideals and quite frankly shitty opinions mess up my morning."

They keep talking as you make your way outside. The instant the door chimes close, a loud groan rips through one of their mouths.

They hold onto their nose, now streaming blood and broken. "Dude, what the fuck?!"

"You wanted a fight, did you not? Now, I am quite busy at the moment so if that is all, then I bid you a good rest of your day."

As you were about to walk back into the store, Suguru and Satoru came out with your drink in hand. "Yo! Here, got the kind you like cause I loveee you so much!" Satoru kisses your cheek and hands you your order, especially as you like it.

"Thank you, Satoru. Would you like to go back to the dorms now?"

Suguru stuffs a cake pop in your mouth, handing Satoru one and eating one as well. "Thanks for... that, by the way."

"It's no problem. You are my... partner, after all."

Satoru grins as he latches onto the two of you again. "Teleportation time, let's go!"

"Satoru, no—"

[kaciidubs]

sooo....i have returned with more crazy shit 😋

i dunno if you read,write,or like tarophilia or whatever its called. its like monster sex basically or just fairlytale sex in general i think.

but anyway i wanted to ask for alien!jisung with human!fem!reader? like a ship crashed into the forest next to readers home in the forest so she went to check it out. when she looked it was an alien boy. brown curly hair with black glasses perched on their nose with a stripped sweater and black sweatpants. she felt bad for him because he was bleeding from his head. she took him in and helped his wounds. after waiting he woke up. they talked since he asked what happened and ended up being friends (kind of)

after months of being friends then best friends, they got together. they were happy and reader liked her alien boyfriend. and jisung liked his human girlfriend. a bit later into the relationship they realized they never had sex. just making out and grinding. no more than that. but one day jisung wanted to eat out reader. she let him of course and when the sweet taste of her cunt hits his tongue he lost it. he went tongue deep into her tight hole. purple tongue trying to find the source of the sweet treat. while reader whimpered and whined about it being too much and telling him to slow down. clenching hard around his tounge. after hours of being down there and reader once again whining about it being too much and no more, he says "jus' one more baby. ill stop after yeah?" before going back tongue deep into her with his pale purple tongue. (he ends up being down there for another hour :])

(p.s. if you dont like this type of stuff it’s totally fine! i was half asleep doing this so dont feel bad and do it anyway since its long :] if you couldnt tell i have a oral fixation ˙𐃷˙)

-🪼

My darling jellyfish nonnie, I love this thought so much - also, I'm 100% a monster fucker [as shown by my Naga! Minho spooktober fic, plus the fact that I'd go on all fours for Werewolf! Chris in a heartbeat] so Alien! Jisung is right up my alley!!

I don't even know how I could expand on this other than sharing more horny-ish thoughts about it; like the fact that not only is his tongue purple, but it's long and he seems to produce more saliva than necessary - since, you know, he's an alien and all.

How the first time reader found that she had more than platonic feelings for Alien! Jisung, was when he discovered the joy of cheesecake and whipped cream - the pure joy that illuminated his face after the first bite, followed by the ecstasy after he finished his piece and looked at her with round eyes that begged for more.

Perhaps their first kiss, how it came about after watching Howl's Moving Castle [or, rewatching it, in her case] - the credits hadn't been running for more than two seconds before Jisung's face came into view and his lips were on hers. It didn't last long, and it was obvious that he didn't fully understand the connotation behind kissing when you questioned his very sudden, but not unwelcome, move. "Happy!" He'd reply, as small, fluttering chirping noises emanated from him - a sound she'd grown familiar with to understand it was something that occurred when he was, indeed, happy.

And then, it was when those timid, innocent touches of a curious first, actual, kiss turned into chasing that feeling of desire and need - the moment where best friends and something more became blurred, but neither one of them cared. It was when Jisung learned that feelings could be acted upon, that kissing wasn't the only way humans expressed their passion, and that maybe there weren't that many differences between your kind and his.

At least, not when it came to pleasure.

[r4ins]

would you pls do Jason Todd x male reader? 😫Thank you!! 😆

Jason Todd x Top Male Reader

bottom jason todd

cw. lots of smut

Jason never hated Y/N more than when the man was inside him. Sure, Y/N was an asshole at the best of times, and Jason couldn’t wait until the moment he tore him down and his whole stupid empire with him, but when Y/N had him bent over and panting, a side of the older man came out that Jason absolutely despised. Unfortunately, his body had a different reaction to this Y/N.

“That’s it sweetheart, tighten up this hole for me like a good little bitch” Y/N crooned sickly sweet behind him.

“Nngh, fuck off” Jason responded, grinding his burning face into the cool wood of Y/N’s desk. He hated that Y/N could get him this worked up from just a few fingers.

“The big, scary Red Hood” Y/Nchuckled “well look at you now, whore.”

Jason blinked overwhelmed tears out of his eyes, yeah, the asshole had a point. He was sure he cut a pretty pathetic figure, bent at the waist over Y/N’s large mahogany desk, hands pinned behind him by his own zip-ties, jerking up onto his toes at every thrust of Y/N’s gloved hand into his slick hole, and whining softly the whole time. He couldn’t see Y/N, but he could imagine the smugness in his eyes as he sat in his huge office chair behind Jason, sipping a glass of whiskey in one hand whilst the other relentlessly abused his ass.

Jason wasn’t sure how much time had passed since he bratted his way right past Y/N’s warning glare and found himself manhandled onto the ground and bound up. Y/N had moved him to the desk only after choking him out against the floor and growling into his ear about being put in his place and getting what was coming to him. Since then, satisfied by Jason’s submission as his lax body was shoved over the desk, he had been lazily grinding his black leather gloved fingers into the boy’s prostate.

“Give it up, boy, it’s your own time you’re wasting” It was the amused patronising tone that got to him the most, made him want to fight tooth and nail and to bear his neck in surrender at the same time “C’mon Jay, let out that needy little slut we both know you are deep down.”

“Shut -uhn- up, you-” Jason grunted out. He was so tense he could feel the zip ties cutting into his wrists, could feel every pant of hot air into the space between his face and the wood, could feel each miniscule movement of Y/N’s hand.

Y/N hummed in amusement, pulling his hand out and wiping it on Jason’s asscheek like the boy was nothing more than a dirty rag. Jason let out a sob at the treatment, only to choke on air as he felt both of Y/N’s hands grab his cheeks and pull them apart. It was something about the exposure, or the hot stab of the objectification that finally made him break down.

“Daddy, daddy, pl-please” he whined. He could barely recognise his own voice.

“Ah, there we are, sweetheart. There’s my good boy” Y/N pulled away for a second, chucked softly at Jason’s heartbroken sob at the sudden loss of sensation.

Jason was limp as Y/N pulled him up by his bound hands and turned him until he was standing on shaking legs, still caught up in his own pants, and facing the older man.

Y/N shushed him softly, reaching out place his hands on the boy’s trembling hips and staring into his cloudy eyes. Without dropping the eye contact, Y/N lifted one foot and stepped down on the pants bunched around his legs until they slid down his legs to the floor. Bolstered by the hands on his hips, Jason stepped out of the pants and followed the urging of those gloved palms until he was settled in his lap, hands still tied behind him, wet eyes wide and desperate.

“Hey there, pretty boy” Y/N lifted a hand and took Jason’s chin between his fingers, moving his face this way and that to admire the pink flush.

Jason, unable to turn his face away, scrunched his eyes closed as he blushed fiercely, for a moment hating how much Y/N’s words turned him to putty. “Daddy, please, daddy”

“Shh now precious, don’t you worry your cute little head at all, hmm?” Y/N shook Jason’s face like a puppy until the boy opened his eyes to look up at him blearily, “Daddy’s gonna take care of you baby.”

Jason hated him, he hated him so much. He hated him even more for the way that his words made the tears collecting in his lashes fall down over his cheeks towards his trembling lips. The humiliation made his stomach roll, but also made his still hard dick throb painfully.

“Do you want Daddy’s cock, baby-slut?” Y/N asked, still in that sickly sweet voice that Jason hated so much.

No, no. “Y-yes daddy, please daddy. Baby wants it, please.”

“Good boy” Jason couldn’t help the shudder that ran through his body at the praise, “Get Daddy out, baby.”

Jason stared at him in confusion for a second, flexing his hands against their bonds. When Y/N didn’t move, just kept staring at him expectantly, Jason tentatively lifted himself on shaky thighs high enough so that he could reach down below himself to try to get his hands on Y/N’s fly. The movement twisted his body, shoving his chest up towards Y/N’s face wantonly, and Jason despaired as he felt the flush spread down his neck almost to his nipples, standing in needy peaks directly in front of Y/N smug face.

Y/N leaned forward, ghosting breath over one of Jason’s ample pecs, and waited until the boy had the zipper of his pants halfway down before sealing his mouth over one nipple and biting down.

The noise that tore its way out of Jason was halfway between a shout and a sob, and he felt his fingers lose their grip on Y/N pants. Y/N didn’t let up, sucking a deep bruise around the nipple, and Jason forced his clumsy fingers to find their grip again.

Y/N only released his chest when I felt cool air on his cock, freed from his pants and standing to attention between Jason’s taught, trembling thighs.

Even though he couldn’t see Y/N cock, Jason found his mouth flooding with saliva from just the feel of it and the knowledge that he was soon going to be filled. He experienced a brief second of clarity from just the horror that Y/N had so effectively trained his body to respond to him.

The clarity was chased away, however, when Y/N got a hard, bruising grip on his hips and used it to manhandle Jason’s body down onto his dick. Jason threw his head back and wailed as he felt the intrusion carve its way into his body. Despite the torturous amount of prep, Y/N still and always did feel huge when he was buried inside him like this.

“Fuck yes, that’s good” Y/N groaned, holding Jason’s body down on him for an interminable moment, “you were made for this, baby, body just made to take cock.”

Jason wanted to rip the guy’s head off for saying that, but instead he made a soft, keening noise of need and shifted in Y/N’s lap.

“Fine then, you needy whore, take what you want” Y/N growled, letting go of Jason’s hips and slapping harshly at his ass when he didn’t start moving quick enough.

Shocked by the sudden crack, and the pain that only stoked the fire that was his arousal, Jason quickly lifted himself up using just his legs until barely the tip of Y/N’s cock was still buried inside him. After taking a second to feel the rush of anticipation, he slammed himself back down, crying out at the feeling.

He was so caught up in the feeling of riding Y/N, filling that ache inside himself that only ever seemed to be assuaged by Y/N’s cock and filthy words, that he didn’t notice Y/N reaching over until his hand was clamping over Jason’s cock. He wailed at the stimulation, rutting into the tight grip desperately whilst still bouncing on Y/N’s lap as much as he could.

Y/N didn’t exactly jack him off, more held his hand tight and still whilst Jason adjusted his movement to push into Y/N’s hand when he lifted up off his dick. When he took a second from the bright, hot, overwhelming arousal to look down at the other man mid-bounce, he felt a lance of humiliated heat through his body at the cold, unaffected way that Y/N was watching him shamelessly writhe on his lap.

That one second of feeling so needy and pathetic, combined with the harsh grip on his dick and the relentless assault on his prostate, was all he needed to finally fall over the edge. He screamed, head thrown back, as he painted his stomach and Y/N’s lap with cum. He arched, tense with the aftershocks for a second before falling, completely limp, over Y/N.

He felt more than heard the rumbled growl of satisfaction that Y/N let out as Jason came. Before he had an opportunity to recover, he was being hefted up with Y/N’s dick still inside him and deposited sprawling over Y/N’s desk.

“My turn” Y/N lifted Jason’s legs by the calves until the boy was basically bent in half and started jackhammering into his body, still shaking with the aftershocks of the boy’s orgasm.

Jason wept from the overstimulation; high, breathless noises punched out of him with every thrust. IF he had any agency over his own limbs he was be desperately trying to get away from the aggressive assault on his overworked prostate and sore hole. But as it was, he lay there in Y/N’s grip, completely unable to do anything but cry and whine and shake.

“Da-daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy” he didn’t know when he had started talking, didn’t know why he could only say that one thing. His mind was growing cloudier as his face got wetter, and he could hear his own voice become more and more incomprehensible as Y/N continued to ruthlessly fuck his lax body.

“da- duh- da- .. unhh” the whole world narrowed down to just Y/N’s hands and cock and cruel voice.

“What’s that babydoll? I don’t think you’re making any sense.” He felt fingers, still wrapped in those leather gloves, force their way between his lips and deep into his mouth, and all he could do was gurgle and drool around them.

“That’s better, isn’t it?” Y/N asked in a voice like one you would use to talk to a child or a particularly stupid pet, “That whore mouth should always be filled up, huh baby? It’s not like there’s any better use for it.”

Jason felt a trail of saliva drip down the side of his face as his eyes rolled back. At this point his cock had managed to fill back out and throbbed, red and heavy against his already cum-stained abs. Y/N showed no sign of slowing down, the slapping of his hips into Jason’s ass surely turning his cheeks as red as his face.

“Love you like this,” Y/N continued, seemingly unbothered by the way Jason was choking and gurgling around his fingers, “fucked dumb, nothing left in that pretty little head of yours. I should keep you like this all the time, baby. I don’t know what little whores need brains for anyway. Just keep you tied up and stuffed full, filthy with my cum, so you know your fucking place-”

Without warning, Y/N shoved his fingers as deep into Jason’s mouth as he could as he pressed his cock balls deep into his ass and spilled inside him. He stayed there for a second, ignoring the way Jason writhed underneath him, trying to rut his still hard cock up against anything he could reach.

Groaning, Y/N pulled out slowly. He stared at Jason’s wrecked hole, mindless to the way the boy was desperately pleading through the fingers in his mouth. When he saw his own come start to drip out of Jason’s twitching hole he removed his fingers from his mouth to move both hands down to his ass and spread his hole as wide open as he could.

Jason, lost in a haze of pleasure and humiliation and the desperate need to come, could only whine and stare pleadingly at the man above him, feeling stupid and small and pathetic. Y/N looked up for a second, meeting Jason’s teary gaze with cruel eyes before he smirked and purposefully, and slowly enough that Jason could tell what was coming, leaned down and spat directly into Jason’s already ruined hole.

Jason’s second orgasm racked through his body almost painfully. This time he couldn’t even scream, only writhe on the desk in terrible ecstasy.

When he came back to, Y/N was sitting back in his chair, lighting a thick cigar and taking a drag as he looked with satisfaction at the mess he had made of the vigilante. Jason barely needed the pull on his leg to slide boneless to the ground and lean his upper body against Y/N’s leg. He was so exhausted he only blinked sluggishly as Y/N pushed the cigar against his lips and forced him to take a slow drag, all while carding his fingers through his sweat-soaked hair, twirling the white streak around his fingers.

He kept his hand in his hair as he turned his attention to some papers on the desk and began to read through them, largely ignoring the filthy and half naked boy at his feet.

As Jason started to drift off, now on Y/N’s lap, he took a moment to wonder if it was really Y/N he hated or just himself for letting Y/N keep doing this to him. The thought was gone almost as soon as it arrived, lost to a haze of exhausted satisfaction.