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littlelioncub43 · 3 years ago

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Without a Doubt

Summary: You fuck Dennis’ brains out and he says something that he didn’t mean to say.

Pairing: Sub!Dennis Baker x Soft dom!fem!Reader

Warnings: Smut (18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI), unprotected sex, dumbification, Dennis slips deep into his sub space, dirty talk, Dennis is a screamer, creampie, slight breathplay(??? Dennis holds his breath to make himself cum harder), passing out, idiots in love, Reader being a wonderful dom and taking care of Dennis.

Word count: 1,674

A/N: I am in love with this little AU I have created. They are sluts in love and jeepers are they the cutest. I hope you guys like this! Let me know what you think about it! Send me an ask about them— I literally think about them all day so I need to talk about them or I’m gonna burst. Anyhooters! I got some more little fics planned out for these two nymphos, but let me know who else I should write for! I’d love to hear back from you guys! Flight attendants prepare for cross check and all call.

Kisses💋

—K

“O-Ohmyyygoooooood,” Dennis slurred as you slowly lowered yourself back on to his aching cock for what felt like the millionth time. He lost track of how long you’d been fucking him, but he was certain that you’d been at this for hours (and you had). You smirked proudly at his dazed expression and moaned as your needy cunt was once again stretched out around him. Running your hands up his sides, you pressed them into his heaving chest. The action sent a chill up Dennis’ spine, his own hands moving to grip the soft flesh of your outer thighs.

“Oh, Angel, did I break you?” You tease softly while caressing his flushed cheek. He looked broken; his mouth was hung open as he gasped for air, a small line of drool slid down his cheek and into his scruff, those beautiful eyes that you love so much were unfocused as he stared up at the bedroom ceiling dumbly. You liked him like this; so blissed out that he can’t even think.

“Hm?” You prompt again gently and squeeze your walls around him, earning a strangled gasp. He blinks a few times to come back to himself, his head felt like it was spinning like a top so he had to work extra hard to think of an answer. The best he can do is a sloppy nod and a crooked smile, one that you can’t help but return. “Aw, can’t speak, Den? I fucked you stupid, didn’t I, baby?”

Dennis tries to think of a response but when you start to grind your hips just how he likes it he can barely breathe let alone string a coherent sentence together. Your smile widens when you see his eyes roll, his jaw dropping even wider to moan for you. Leaning down, you pepper slow kisses all over his face, until you finally give his lips the attention they deserve.

“It’s ok, Den, you don’t need to think. I’ll take care of you, baby, I’ll make you feel so good,” you moan against his lips, you begin to bounce on his dick, letting the pace be nice and slow. Your words send Dennis into a tizzy. He didn’t want to think, he just wanted to be yours, and God, whatever you were doing with your hips was driving him insane. His hands claw at your hips weakly, his back arching on its own as he lets you use him. He lets out a throaty moan as you kiss along his neck, your teeth nipping possessively at the pristine skin of his throat, each one pushing Dennis deeper and deeper into the thick syrupy pool in his mind. Nothing else existed to him—only you, only pleasure.

The slick sounds of your unbearably tight cunt swallowing his length over and over fill the room, the erotic, dull wet claps of your supple skin colliding with his matched the squeaking of his mattress beneath you. With one last kiss to his shoulder, you rose up to your hands to get a better look at his face. You watched in rapture as he writhed underneath you, his expressions so raw and unbridled that it had you practically leaking around him. A particularly good thrust had his fat tip nudging that spot deep inside you that had your toes curling and your own eyes fluttering.

“D-Dennis!” You moan wantonly, your core spasming around his length in a dizzying rhythm that had Dennis’ head lifting off the pillow, his own moan echoing your own. He tightens his grip on you, his body coming alive as you chant his name over and over again.

“Ohhhhhhfuuuuck!” He slurs loudly, his hips rising to meet your own, urging you to speed up. You whimper as he pushes deeper into you, your insides burning as ecstasy floods your veins again and again. Dennis focuses his eyes on your face, the debauched look you wore made him groan proudly. Licking his lips, he chokes back his grunts and fights to speak. “Mmm… Mmmoooooore!”

“You want more, Den?” You smile when he gasps out an ‘uh-huh’ and a sloppy nod. “Say it again—fuck! Tell me what you want, baby.” You watch as he furrows his brows, his face looking pained as he whines.

“Wan’ more!” He gasps out in a raw tone, his eyes pleading with yours as he begs again and again, “moremoremoremoremore!”

Your pace naturally picks up, your body slamming into his as you deliciously ride Dennis for all he was worth. The headboard was slamming into the wall violently now as you bounced in his lap, his cock sliding in and out so fast neither of you could keep up. Dennis’ eyes roll back in his head, his breathing was ragged and labored as you fucked his brains out.

You listen to Dennis’ throaty grunts, each one louder than the last until he was screaming his throat hoarse. You chuckled and tossed your head back to bask in it all, the power you held over Dennis was making your clit throb for attention. Bringing one hand to your neglected nub, you rub furious circles to help bring you to the edge—you were so close. Dennis watched as you played with yourself and whined, his own shaking hand finds its place on your bouncing breast, pinching the nipple and kneading the flesh as best he could.

“Fuck! That’s it, Den! Just like that, baby, gonna make me cum— Oh my gooooood, Dennis!” you whimper for him, knowing that he loves when you speak like that. A wicked smirk finds you lips as he shudders and doubles his efforts. His end was coming just as quickly, and the way you moaned his name didn’t help either.

“You gonna cum too, Den?” You knew the answer to that question, it was written across his sweaty face. He nodded as he felt his balls begin to ache, the imminent release building at the base of his spine. It was going to be a big one.

“Go on, baby, be a good boy and cum for me,” you coo encouragingly, “fill me up, Den, I need it, baby, need it bad!”

You watch as Dennis’ entire body convulses like he’s been electrocuted. The grip Dennis had on your tit tightened as his hands clamp down on your flesh to hold you in place, his body bowing off the mattress as he finally reaches his peak. With his legs spread wide, Dennis thrusts up into you one last time and releases into your wanting pussy.

“I—I love you!” He screams over the ringing in his ears, the words rolling off his tongue without a second thought. Rope after rope of his cum shoots deep into you, your pelvises pressed firmly together to make sure that he stays rooted in your flesh. Dennis’ head spins faster and faster, his vision is spotty as he holds his breath, the lack of oxygen only prolonging his pleasure. He can feel your walls pulsing and fluttering around his twitching member as you cum, and the knowledge that you finished with him makes him want to smile. But before he could do anything, the world is coated in a thick, syrupy darkness that pull his eyes peacefully shut.

“Look who’s awake,” you sigh sleepily while giving him that smile that makes him weak in the knees. You giggle when his face turns a hot pink so bright that it seemed to glow in the dark. “I was worried I’d killed you or something.”

When he wakes up hours later, the night had long since been over. The bedroom was dark and quiet as you slept beside him, wearing one of his t shirts. He shifted under the blanket that he didn’t remember putting on and was surprised to find that he was all cleaned up and wearing his favorite pair of boxers. He glanced at your sleeping face in shock and adoration. He must have been staring at you for quite a while, because the next thing he knew you were rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pass out,” he muttered with a sheepish smile as you snuggled into his side as if it were second nature, his arms winding around you to cradle you tenderly.

“It’s ok, Den,” you assure him still smiling. Your smile dipped ever so slightly as you chewed your lip, your voice was a calm whisper, “did you not mean anything else?”

He looked at you for a beat, confusion on his face until he remembered what he had said. Well, screamed. His face burned even hotter when he recalled his words, how he blurted them out at the top of his lungs before passing out. God, you must think he’s an idiot for saying it like that—if you were ok with him saying it at all. He felt his mouth dry up as he searched your face for any sort of hints as to what you felt about him. When he found nothing but a soft smile and hopeful eyes, he swallowed the lump in his throat.

“No, I meant it,” he said quietly, his voice was hushed but his tone was certain. For the first time since you’d been dating, Dennis saw a bashful smile break across your gorgeous face. You looked down as you took in his confession, a shy giddiness filling every inch of your body. You bury your face into the firm expanse of his hairy chest, his arms tightening their hold on you. He couldn’t help but grin with pride, seeing you so flustered over his words had Dennis practically humming with happiness.

“Yeah?” You ask and look up at him with a happy grin.

“Without a doubt,” he nods and takes in your features leisurely. "A-And not just because of that."

“I love you, too,” you whisper shyly. Your words knock the wind out of Dennis’ lungs.

“Yeah?” He repeats dumbly, not knowing what else to say.

“Without a doubt.”

I no longer have a taglist, so if you want to stay up-to-date with when I post, follow @littlelioncub-library for notifications!

Dividers by the lovely @firefly-graphics 💖

#dennis baker #dennis baker x female reader #dennis baker x you #sub!dennis #sub!dennis baker #dom!reader #chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x reader #chris evans fic #chris evans smut #little lion literature

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yuichi-ro · 2 years ago

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◈ 𝘙𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘍𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘴 𝘹 𝘱𝘢𝘭𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯!𝘧𝘦𝘮!𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

◈ 𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: Roland made a fool of you and Olivier during the last mission, now it’s your plan to make the jasper bearing paladin your own personal fool

cw: fem!Reader, dom!Reader, slightly mean!Reader + Olivier, exhibition, cucking (of Olivier), degradation themes, slight dumbification, overstim, unprotected vaginal sex, multiple creampies, unedited word count: 1k

◈ ᴍɪɴᴏʀꜱ/ʙʟᴀɴᴋ/ᴀɢᴇʟᴇꜱꜱ ʙʟᴏɢꜱ ᴡɪʟʟ ʙᴇ ʙʟᴏᴄᴋᴇᴅ ◈

Legs splayed over his broad hips gave you the best seat in the house as you drug your slit along the underside of his cock. Marking your territory for good measure with the trail of juices being smeared along the man’s twitching cock. With it the globs of cum he’d already spent filling your pussy with. Now drooling from your core as you snickered with derogatory glee that the holy man was still so hard after his orgasm.

“This is a punishment Roland!” You swirled your hips around on him. Wet squelch of his cum and your juices making a lewd echo in the room as the only other person to hear it was Olivier with his arms crossed and a furrowed glare on his features as he watched every second of this unflinching, “You’re enjoying yourself far too much for a punishment.”

Hands right back to dimpling the fat of your hips when the ecstasy of your gummy walls re enveloped his throbbing cock. Roland tipped his head back, unable to see your face or Olivier’s for that matter. Still the heat that ripped through his body was unlike any he’d had before. Making it impossible for him to form a real good thought as your cunt swallowed him up again.

“Roland you idiot!” Olivier fumed even if he had to keep averting his eyes only to find them drifting right back to the way his cock slipped out of you, glistening with juices and cum, only to be buried back inside when you bounced on him, “This will be a punishment you fool, you nearly cost us our mission!”

Bucking his hips up to meet yours when you continued to ride him, Roland could hear his dear friends voice but only continued to lose himself in blissful pleasure as his overly sensitive tip rammed against your cervix with each thrust, “I-I’m sorry- T-This- This is- I deserve-”

“See Olivier,” You picked up the pace of your hips. No denying the pleasure bubbling up in you from looking back and seeing Roland’s beautiful green eyes roll to the back of his head at the same moment your body would shudder as he rutted inside you, “He’ll get it- Won’t you, Roland?”

Like an obedient mutt he quickly nodded. No idea what he might be agreeing too as his senses all but grew fuzzy again. Sure he’d came no more than five minutes ago. You were not joking when you said you’d give him no time to rest. Ache of his once spent balls contradicting the over saturation of pleasure his cock was feeling, Roland whimpered out a meager protest when his toes curled and his hair began to stick to his forehead.

“Already cumming again.” Olivier said with such disgust even though he could not look away from the sloppy mess of his previous seed clinging to your cunt lips after he’d fucked that first round of out you, “Of course you would.”

With the familiar throb of his cock you wiggled yourself on Roland’s length as his hips formed the erratic buck of his all too soon orgasm. Surely as strong as the first one his face pinched with pleasure only to be flush with relief as his cum seeded your insides once more. Adding to the disgusting mess already left before. This one a few spurts short though of the last as he gasped out and tried to suck in a decent breath when you continued to ride him without mercy.

“What’s this? You need a break?” You felt his cum oozing out of your cunt, around the base of his cock and dirtying both your thighs as you didn’t hesitate to continue moving and spread the mess even further, “What part of punishment do you not understand Roland? This is for screwing up our mission.”

Groans of neither protest or denial. Roland’s lashes fluttered over his brilliant green eyes when he grabbed at your hips. Too honorable put an end to a punishment you both saw as fit. He said he’d accept the consequences regardless of the terms. Even if your walls were squeezing around his spent cock. Slimy with the loads he’d left in you earlier. Insanity grabbing at every fiber of his being unable to shake the deniable fact that his second orgasm cascaded right into another one.

Even less time than before Roland was now begging god with gibberish and his own fingers no longer gripping your hips. Instead knotted up in his own blond curls when his legs kicked and shuddered and moans sounded more like choking sobs from him. Another orgasm being plucked from his cock mere moments after he’d just left a second load. This time the burning ache to his balls vividly letting him know how little cum he was spurting into you. Still though you drew out another orgasm mush to his dismay. Cock twitching within the folds of your core with Olivier’s eyes honed into the both of you.

“That was certainly quick,” You hadn’t even gotten out of breath for that third one. Milking him dry seemed so much easier than you expected. And as you lifted your hips off his twitching, aching cock, you let the globs of cum from before drip out onto his cock as it still stood hard and begging for attention, “Olivier I think our dearest Roland loves an audience.”

Disgusted scoff leaving his otherwise flushed face, Olivier remained steadfast with his arms crossed looking down on his friend laying on his back with you straddling him, “I don’t care. Make him break. Do what you have to so this fool will think twice about jeopardizing our missions again.”

Reaching down between your legs to scoop what filthy mixture of Roland’s cum and your juices that you could, you took to smearing it all over his cock before positioning him once more at your entrance. Pushing just his tip in to hear Roland’s loud moans echo in the tiny chamber and bring a smile to your lips the second he grew louder when you slid down on his spent cock, “I’ll make sure our Jasper Paladin never wants to pick vampires over us ever again.”

#the case study of vanitas x reader #the case study of vanitas smut #vnc x reader #vnc smut #the case study of vanitas roland #vnc roland #roland fortis #roland fortis smut #roland fortis x reader

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enchantestuff · 4 years ago

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hatred - Charles Leclerc

I think I might make this into a mini series with an enemies to civil with each other to friends to lovers kind of vibe but I'm still not sure, anyways here's Charles x reader wanting to rip each others throats but instead end up ripping each others clothes off

gonna dedicate this to the lovely @yungbludz happy birthday <33

GIF NOT MINE

warnings; smut as per usual, Charles being very egotistical, choking, language, enjoy <3

2k words

part two

It was safe to say you and Charles hated each other. You knew hate was a strong word, but you also knew that you felt nothing but hatred for the man. You hated his cocky smile and the fact that everyone seemed to be obsessed with him. You also hated the fact that you had to spend the whole weekend with him.

You worked for Ferrari, meaning that, unfortunately, you had to spend a lot of time with Charles. You were actually excited when you first got the job of being Charles Leclerc's PR manager. You had admired the driver and couldn’t wait to work alongside him, but that all changed once you actually met him and realised what an ass he really was. Everyone else loved him, of course, because he seemed to be nice to every single person on the planet except you.

You and a select number of the Ferrari team had been invited to a special charity event taking place in the ballroom of a luxurious hotel. You had all decided to check into the hotel the day before the event, in order to save time and familiarise yourself with the venue. Of course, according to your job description, you also had to run through the possible questions Charles could be asked with him.

Although Charles loathed you, he had to admit you were good at your job and managed to prepare him for every possible scenario, which is why he hadn’t begged Mattia to fire you, at least not yet.

You sighed as you reached the check in desk, all you wanted to do was flop onto the hotel bed and sleep until the morning. You gave the lady behind the desk your name and watched as she quickly typed on the computer in front of her. “Ah yes, Y/N and Charles, room 506”

Your eyes widened at her words as you shook your head. “No no, that can’t be right” you pleaded as you leaned your arms against the counter.

“Im sorry ma'am, but the booking is for the both of you” she explained with apologetic eyes as she handed you the room key.

“Take your time, Y/N. Not like we aren’t all exhausted from our long trip” you heard Charles scold from behind you. You quickly turned around and shoved the room key into his chest.

“Politetly, go fuck yourself, Leclerc” you muttered as you shouldered past him and walked straight to Mattia on the other side of reception. Mattia sighed once you walked over and gestured for you to begin arguing with him, he knew it was going to happen.

“Why? Why would you stick me in a room with that-that imbecile!” you snapped.

“Listen, Y/N, i know how much you dislike him and vice versa, but everyone had to be paired with someone and I thought this was the best option for you both” he explained with a soothing voice.

“Why do I have to be with her?” you heard Charles ask from behind you. You felt small standing in front of him, his broad frame practically trapping you between him and Mattia.

“Y/N is your PR manager, it's her job to prepare you for this event” Mattia once again calmly explained

“And she couldn’t do that over breakfast?” Charles inquired, you could feel his tense gaze on the back of your head and you whipped around scoffing at him as you placed your hands on his hips.

“Don’t act like this was my idea! Not everyone wants to share a room with you Charles, get your head out of your ass”

Charles opened his mouth to throw a rude remark your way but Mattia stopped him before he got the chance. “The both of you are sharing this room, whether you like it or not. I think everyone would prefer if you took this time to sort out your problems instead of bickering like children. I’ll see you both at breakfast. Goodnight,” he scolded as he walked off with his luggage in tow.

You felt your cheeks redden as embarrassment creeped up your shoulders. “Are you trying to get me fired?” you accused Charles as you grabbed your own luggage and made way for the elevator.

He shrugged in response, “Wouldn’t be the worst thing” he muttered, stepping inside with you. You pressed your floor number and sighed in frustration. “Can you stop breathing so loud?” he groaned, rolling his eyes.

“It was a sigh, dipshit.”

“Trust me, i don't want to be near you as much as you don't want to be near me”

“Glad we're on the same page” you replied, stepping out of the elevator and storming to your room, which in hindsight was a foolish idea as Charles had the key and you had to wait for him as he took his sweet time walking up the hallway.

He unlocked the door with a smug look on his face and stepped in before you, dropping his luggage on the floor as he surveyed the room. “You have got to be kidding me” he complained once he saw the double bed in the middle of the room.

“Oh what is it now, Charles?” you asked as you shut the door behind you “is the carpet not to your liking? Is it too bright? Are there no chocolates on the pillow” you continued and slipped off your shoes, “do you want me to - oh shit” you cursed as you saw the predicament you both were in. “Looks like you're sleeping on the floor” you shrugged whilst walking towards the bed.

“I am NOT sleeping on the floor,” Charles complained.

“What? And you think I am?” you argued, once again placing your hands on your hips.

“I don’t see why not,” he commented, crossing his arms across his chest.

“I am not sharing a bed with you, Leclerc! So you,” you jabbed a finger at his chest, “are going to have to step off your mighty throne and take the gentleman approach and sleep,” jab “on,” jab “the floor,” you snapped.

Charles raised his eyebrow as he stared at you. You could cut the tension between the two of you with a knife, it was almost unbearable. You had never fought this long, somebody had always interrupted you both before you got the chance to really push each other's buttons. “I'm going to say this nice and slow, sweetheart,” Charles growled, taking a step forward, you in turn took a step back as you removed your finger from his chest, “I’ll take the high road, we can share the bed just this once, as long as you stop acting like the spoiled princess that you will never be” he continued to walk towards you as he spoke and you were eventually trapped against the wall.

Charles moved his hand to lie on the wall next to your head, the distance between the two of you becoming smaller and smaller by the second. “I might be ready to step off my throne but are you ready to be a good girl and step off yours too?” he concluded.

“Bite me, Charles” you retorted and something in the both of you snapped as you grabbed his face in your hands and he roughly grabbed your waist. Your lips violently pressed against his as your tongues practically fought against each other. You almost moaned at the force of his kiss, but refused to give him the satisfaction.

Charles pulled away, giving your mouth a final short kiss before he moved to mark your neck. “Come on, princess. Stop being stubborn for once in your life and let me hear the noises that you can make''

You however kept your mouth shut, Charles smirked and shrugged his shoulders. “If that's how you want to play it,” he smirked before gently grabbing your breast and slipping his hands into the waistband of your leggings. He rubbed circles on your clit as he pinched your nipples. “I want to hear you, sweetheart,” he grunted.

You rolled your eyes back in pleasure and involuntarily let out a moan. Charles felt his dick twitch in his pants and cockily grinned as he kissed right under your nose. “Good girl,” he whispered. It wasn't long before his trousers were discarded as well as your own leggings. You hadn’t moved however and were still pressed up against the wall. “Are you sure you want this?” he asked and although you felt your heart skip a beat you rolled your eyes at him and nodded.

“Yes, please just - just hurry up” you squirmed against the wall. That seemed to be all the validation he needed. He slowly put a condom on before easing into you. You scrunched your eyes at the uncomfortable feeling and tapped him to move. Your lips parting on their own accord as the feeling was replaced with pure pleasure. Charles forcefully grabbed your legs and wrapped them around his waist, providing him with a better angle for both himself and you.

“O-oh shit” you moaned as you scraped your nails down his shoulders to his arms, which left harsh red marks in their wake. Charles moaned at the feeling and you were almost aroused by the sound. Almost.

One of Charles hands were digging into the soft flesh of your thigh while the other moved to wrap itself around your neck, his signature pinky ring digging into the flesh of your skin causing you to mimic his actions and let out a moan at the pain.

“You like that?” he grunted as he continued to thrust into you, lightly placing some pressure on your throat, not enough to suffocate you, he didn't hate you that much, but enough for you to enter a state of pure bliss.

“I hate you, Leclerc” you found yourself muttering but you certainly did not hate him at that very moment.

“Feelings mutual, love”

You continued to scrape your nails across his back, desperate to pull more moans out of him. Charles however, didn't like being the only vulnerable one and removed his hands from your throat, he grabbed both of your hands in his own and shoved them upwards, beginning his assault on your chest.

Your toes curled as he hit all the right spaces, you knew you were close but you really didn’t want to be the first one to let go. Charles could feel the clenching of your walls and smirked into your chest. “Are you close, princess?” he asked, bringing his mouth to your lips and for some reason you found yourself kissing him back.

“No” you blatantly lied.

You moved your head closer to him when he pulled away but he refused to connect your lips once more and you found yourself pouting at the lack of attention. God, how pathetic had you become.

“Now, i knew you were a spoiled brat but i didn't take you for a liar as well”

“Glad to know your ego has no off moments, Charles” you scoffed and were about to start an argument before he began slowly pounding into you, his precise thrusts made it extremely difficult to formulate a sentence let alone hold onto the knot in your stomach. So, against your brain telling you not to, you let go.

You would have fallen onto the ground if it wasn’t for Charles' strong grip trapping you against the wall and his own body. The noises that he made as he reached his own high caused your heart to flutter in your chest and you began to wonder if having sex with him was a bad idea.

“Are you okay?” he asked after he had pulled away from you. You nodded your head as you furrowed your eyebrows

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” you asked.

You were surprised the both of you were capable of having a normal conversation, but you supposed nothing could be normal between you after that.

Charles gently ran a finger across your neck and by the look on his face you knew you looked worse for wear. “I kind of lost myself in the moment, I’m sorry if I hurt you. Really I am” he clarified.

“Its okay” you sighed as you rubbed your neck, “lets just go to sleep”

“I’m still not sleeping on the floor”

“Just stay on your side of the bed, Leclerc”

#Charles leclerc #Charles Leclerc imagine #Charles Leclerc smut #f1 imagine #f1 smut #forumla 1 imagine #f1 #formula one imagine

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doctorstethoscope · 4 years ago

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The Shirt || A. Hotchner x Fem Reader

Hi besties, here is some smut for your Tuesday evening! No real reason I just had a rough day at work and wanted to write something self-indulgent.

18+ CONTENT AHEAD MINORS DNI

contains: sir/daddy kink, thigh riding, dom aaron, spanking, degradation, oral (f receiving) penetrative sex

wordcount: 2.7k

Aaron was beginning to wonder if he needed to brush up and take a profiling course. You’d been sitting across from him in his office, stabbing and picking at your salad for the better part of the last twenty minutes, and he still couldn’t figure out what was wrong.

You couldn’t be mad at him, he figured, or else you wouldn’t have joined him for lunch. You’d been joking around with everyone in the bullpen all morning, so no problems there. Maybe it was something with your parents? He knew your mother had called a couple weeks ago and gotten on your nerves, but you’d seemed to have moved past that. He was at a total loss.

“Did you sleep okay?” He tried, knowing full well that you had. He practically had to pull you out of bed this morning.

“Yeah, I did,” you looked up from your salad and smiled at him.

So she’s definitely not mad at me, Aaron thought to himself. “You feeling okay?” He asked.

“Yeah, baby. It’s nothing, don’t worry about it.” You shook your head, looking back down at the lettuce you were meticulously poking.

“Whatever it is, it’s clearly not nothing,” he chuckled. “You’ve hardly touched your lunch and you can barely look me in the eye.”

“We can talk about it later, Aaron.” You told him.

“Oh, so now there is something to talk about!” He said, victorious. “Spill.”

“You really don’t want to know.” You warned, and he reached across the table to take your hand in his.

“Of course I do.” He tells you, looking you in the eye and trading his previous mirth for a look of concern.

You felt the heat rise to your cheeks before you even spoke. “You look really, really good today.” You confessed lowly.

“Oh?” Aaron asked, confused.

“And I can’t focus, because all I can think about is crawling under that desk and pulling down your fly and--”

“Naughty girl,” Aaron cooed, and you laughed.

“I tried to warn you.” you said, looking down at your food again, embarrassed.

“That you did.” He agreed with a smirk on his face.

“You don’t have to look so pleased about it, you know.” You rolled your eyes at him, and he stepped out of his chair, moving to the other side of the desk to tilt your chin up and kiss you.

“I’m smiling,” he whispered against your lips before kissing you again, “because I’m thinking of everything I’m going to do to you the minute we cross the threshold tonight.” He leaves your lips to plant a kiss on your jawline and you’re standing up and throwing your arms around him in an instant, grateful for his closed blinds. He indulges you for another moment, although you're certain it’s only to get you more hot and bothered, before separating his mouth from you and giving your ass a quick slap.

“Now, go back to your desk and try to behave, and we’ll see what kind of fun you’ve earned when we get home.” He whispered in your ear and you shuttered.

“Yes sir,” you whispered back, not daring to look him in the eye for fear that your knees would buckle.

The anticipation for the rest of the day was torture, for both you and Aaron. But he could at least have the good grace not to hide it so well. You tried not to look like you were rushing out of the office, but in truth you didn’t know how much longer you could be patient for. You silently thanked whatever God was out there that Jack had taken the bus home with a friend for a sleepover this afternoon as you slipped into the passenger’s seat of Aaron’s SUV for the ride home, anticipation building even further in your stomach. Aaron wrapped an arm behind your seat to pull out of the parking lot, and you watched him out of the corner of your eye. He caught you, and smirked, moving his hand to land on your thigh, pulling you towards him and lighting your skin on fire, even through the material of your dress pants.

“Aaron,” you mumbled, but he cut you off.

“Ah, ah. You’ve been such a good girl all afternoon. Don’t spoil it now.”

You let out an almost imperceptible whimper at his words, but willed yourself to be quiet, worrying your bottom lip against your teeth as Aaron traced patterns into your thigh with his long fingers. Goddamn tease.

He’s silent for the whole drive, letting the consistent motion of his index finger against your thigh do all the talking. You’re breathing so heavily you’re sure he can hear you, but you don’t dare make a sound. By the time Aaron parks the car at home you’re practically buzzing with excitement. He unbuckles his seatbelt, and leans across you to undo yours.

“We are going to have so much fun this evening,” He whispered before kissing you breathless. You brought your hands to either side of his face, letting him trace his tongue over your teeth before he pulled away. You saw your lipstick smudged on the corner of his mouth and smiled.

“For the sake of public decency, we should probably take this inside.” Aaron says, and you open your car door, leaving your purse and his briefcase in the car. He follows you, snaking an arm around you to open the front door for you and let you in first. The door is shut by the weight of your body slamming against it once you are both inside, Aaron not even bothering to flick a light switch before he attached his lips to your neck, nipping and sucking in a way that made your toes curl.

“I’ve been thinking about taking you all afternoon,” Aaron confessed into your collarbone, moving his hand to unbutton your trousers. “Thinking about how pretty you are going to sound screaming my name when I make you cum.”

You threw your head back against the door. “Aaron,” you moaned out, working with him to shove your pants down your legs as you kicked your heels off and across the room.

“Exactly. It’ll be just like that, but louder.” He teased you, pressing a quick peck to your cheek. He slotted his knee in between your legs once your pants were discarded, already able to feel how wet you were against him.

“Oh, fuck,” you moaned out, pushing his suit off his shoulders and digging your nails into his back through his shirt.

“Darling, you’re practically ready for me and I’ve barely even touched you. What did it for you? What was it that made you so needy that you were ready to crawl underneath my desk and take my cock into your mouth, feet away from all of our coworkers?”

You bucked against his thigh as he talked, and he smirked, bringing a hand to rest against your cheek. He knew exactly what he was doing, and you loved and hated him for it in equal measure. “Y-your shirt.” you gasped out.

“My shirt?” He asked, genuinely confused. It was a regular button up shirt, the same type he always wore under his suits.

“It’s tight.” You stammered out. “And you’re not wearing an undershirt.”

“Neither are you,” he countered, pulling your own shirt over your head and leaving you in your bra and panties.

Despite the fact that you were already panting, practically naked, and all but riding his thigh in the doorway of your apartment, you felt a twinge of embarrassment admitting the next part. “I could see your pecs through your shirt. I was thinking about kissing my way down your chest and then sucking you off.” You admitted.

“Such a dirty little whore,” He smirked, and you let the ghost of a smile pass through your face. He reaches behind you to unclasp your bra, and then begins to kiss down your chest, along your ribcage, and in between your breast. You’re sure he’s going to give you mind blowing orgasms that make you forget about all this teasing, but you will yourself to remember if only so you can pay him back. He’s kissed all the way down to your belly button before he picks you up by the thighs and carries you to the bedroom. You wrap your arms around him and take the opportunity to kiss up the column of his neck, pulling his earlobe between your teeth gently before he lays you against the mattress.

He undresses quickly and takes a moment to look at you, cheeks flushed and hair spread over the pillows, chest heaving up and down with the weight of your arousal, and you’re tempted to whine, but you look into his eyes and know that he’s not doing it to tease you-- he’s adoring you. He’s committing every goosebump and every dimple and every beauty mark to memory, because he loves you. You smile.

“I’m going to make you feel so good,” he whispers against the skin of your breast, “That you can’t walk. You can’t talk. You’ll just be stuck here, blissed out and recovering all weekend. Does that sound good?”

“Yes sir,” you breathe out, and he gets to work.

He sucks your nipple in between his teeth and immediately your hips buck up off of the mattress. Without abandoning his task, he moves a hand to pin your hips down, but that doesn’t stop you from blindly searching for friction. You were getting desperate, at this point. The hours between lunch and leaving the office had been foreplay all their own, and everything that had happened since you left the office had only intensified your need. He laved your other nipple against his teeth and moved his hand toward your slit, just barely tracing his way up to your clit.

“You’re so needy. All for me.” He whispered.

“All for you,” you confirmed breathlessly.

“What am I going to have to do to keep you satisfied at work all day?” he asked, rubbing against your clit slowly, enjoying the pinch of your brow as you attempted to grind down on his hand. “Should I buy a special vibrator I can leave inside you while we work?” He asked, plunging a finger into you and you cry out. “Should I give you an orgasm right there at your desk, in front of the whole team, while I watch you from my office? Would that keep my little slut satisfied?” He asked, but true to his word you can barely speak. “Should we get you a little plug, angel?” He inquires as he sticks another finger in you. “Keep you good and stretched all day so you’re ready for me when we get home?” He teased you further, pumping his fingers in and out of you. “No, I’m not going to do that. You know why?” He asked, and you knew that this question wasn’t rhetorical.

“Why?” You gasped out.

“Because,” he starts, inching his way down the mattress to plant a kiss on your hip bone, “I’m possessive, and I like that I’m the only person who can make you feel this good. No one knows your body like I do. No one can bring you to the edge like I do. Isn’t that right?” He asked, now face to face with your pussy and licking his lips in anticipation

“Yes, sir.”

“Good girl,” he whispers, and replaces his fingers with his tongue in an instant.

“Fuck!” you scream in pleasure as he drinks from you like a man lost in the desert. You’re certain your eyes roll into the back of your head, and you’re reduced to one continuous drawn out moan as Aaron laps at you greedily for what could have been seconds or hours. Your thighs are shaking, and you feel so good you’re practically drooling.

“Aar-- fuck, Aaron. If you keep this up I’m going to cum without you.” You warn him urgently.

You feel his smirk against you before he responds. “I want you to cum, angel. Cum for daddy.”

The new name does you in-- the rubber band snaps inside of you and you're bucking wildly against him as pleasure courses through you over and over and over again. “Fuck, thank you daddy. Thank you, thank you thank you,” you become a litany of gratitude, unable to form any other thought until you collapse against the mattress, chest heaving. Aaron sidles up against you, kissing you delicately and allowing you a moment to catch your breath.

“Did it live up to the fantasy?” Aaron asked once your breathing evened out.

“Baby, in my fantasy, you were the one getting off.” You reminded him.

“Details,” he shrugged, kissing your shoulder. You smiled over at him. He was fully prepared to call it here, after giving you one of the best orgasms of your life and getting nothing in return, but you wouldn’t have it. You rolled over, straddling his thighs. “That particular detail is very important to me,” you countered, leaning down across his chest to suck at the base of his neck. He’d be able to cover the purple mark with the collar of his shirt, but you’d know, and that was enough. You start rolling your hips against him, and you feel the groan reverberate in his chest before you hear it.

“Use me, sir. I’m ready. Use me,” you whisper in his ear, and he deftly maneuvers to enter you. You gasp, still sensitive from your first orgasm but overwhelmed with pleasure. He starts canting his hips up into you, and you get into a comfortable position, satisfied to meet him gently thrust for thrust.

“You know, you’re lucky I didn’t tease you more after everything you put me through tonight,” you tell him, and he lets out a growl before flipping the two of you over.

“Mouthy little brat,” he chastises you before lifting one of your thighs over his shoulder so he can drill even further into you. The change in angle is incredible and you’re crying out in moments.

“I’m gonna cum again. Are you close?” You gasp out, and he turns his head to press a kiss against your leg.

“Go ahead, doll. I’m right behind you,” he whispers tenderly, and you come undone, your second orgasm somehow even more powerful than the first. True to his word, Aaron comes just after you do, and you both collapse against the mattress and take a moment to catch your breath.

“You did so good, sweetheart. Was that good for you?’ Aaron asked, propping himself up on an elbow and brushing a piece of hair off of your forehead with his free hand.

“Do you really have to ask?”

“Of course I do,” he said, looking you in the eye so you knew you weren’t getting out of giving him an answer.

“It was amazing, hon. You know I would tell you if you pushed too far.” You answer the question you knew he was really asking.

He smiled and leaned in to give you a quick kiss before rolling off of the mattress and padding into the bathroom, returning with a damp washcloth.

“Alright, sweet girl. Time to clean you up.” He said, climbing back up on the mattress and in between your legs to clean you reverently. “Are you sore? Does anything hurt?”

You gave him a tired smile. “No more than usual. A good night’s sleep and a fresh bagel from the place down the street in the morning will make everything all better, I think.”

“For you, anything. Every bagel in Virginia.” He smirked, getting up to dispose of the washcloth.

You followed him, going into the bathroom to brush your teeth and pee. After a few moments, you’re both back in bed with all the lights off, wrapped up in each other like nothing exists outside of the bed you both shared. True to his promise, Aaron went out and got you both bagels the next morning, and you relaxed the morning away, watching TV and snuggling in bed until it was time to pick up Jack.

And if Aaron forgot his undershirt more frequently, he’d pretend it was an accident.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner smut #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds smut #aaron hotchner x reader #hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x y/n #hotchner x y/n #hotch x y/n #aaron hotchner x you #hotchner x you #hotch x you

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feralthoughtdump · 4 years ago

Text

Lover, Be Good To Me

CW: This is just smut, strap on, Loki sucking a strap, pegging, slight d/s dynamics, swearing, a little bit of praise kink, use of ‘mistress’, use of ‘puppy’, sub! Loki, maybe soft dom! reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Despite the soft fur rug, Loki’s knees ache against the floor. He feels his clasped palms become sweaty, but none of that bothers him because he knows what’s about to happen.

“Such a pretty sight to see.” She purrs. “So obedient too.”

He shifts on his knees while her fingers trace the line of his back, her light tough feeling like a tickle.

With his back straight and eager eyes, he can feel his cock harden at the praise.

His mouth water as she steps out of her skirt, revealing the large strap on.

Despite his royal standing and his power, she wields dominance over him. He worships her. Every curve and dip of her body. Every scar and mark on her skin. His power means nothing when she’s around.

As he bites his lip, he watches her wrap the leash around her wrist and tug.

“You know what to do.”

Loki crawls towards her, willing to obey every beck and call she gives him.

When he reaches her, he presses his cheek against her thigh, smiling against her warm skin.

“Such a sweet little puppy.” She runs her hands through his hair, scratching his scalp with her nails. “Don’t you agree?”

The gentleness of her voice stirs the arousal inside of him. He loves it. The way she praises him, the way she cares for him.

He looks up at her with doe eyes and nods.

“Yes, Mistress.” He says.

Submitting to her was always a treat, regardless of how rough she can be.

He whines when she tugs the leash a bit harder, the chain clinking against the metal tag on his collar.

Despite her gentleness, she finds this all kind of amusing. The prince of Asgard, a trickster god, on his knees, giving himself to her, a mere mortal. All of his arrogance, his air of superiority, washed away to reveal his submissive nature.

She traces his Cupid’s bow with her fingers and he pokes his tongue out to playfully lick them.

“You want my fingers darling?”

He nods his head, already heavy-lidded.

“Ask nicely.”

He tilts his head up to meet her eyes.

“Please, Mistress. Can you put your fingers in my mouth?”

Her smile is gentle when she slips a finger past his lips.

His eyes shut as he swirls his tongue around her digit.

A needy whine passes through his lips when she pulls her hand away but he quickly quiets down when he feels her pointer and middle finger press down on his tongue.

She hums.

“You like having something to suck on, sweetheart? Like having your mouth filled?”

He moans around her fingers, all needy and desperate.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

A pout crosses his face when he finds his mouth once again, empty.

“Oh, don’t cry, puppy.” She caresses his face with a cool hand. “I’ll give you something much better to suck on.”

He noses at the silicone cock and she chuckles.

“You know what to do. Open up.” She demands.

She shoves the strap past his lips and he obediently sucks on it, slicking it up with his saliva.

A groan passes her lips.

“Fuck, puppy, you really want it, don’t you?”

He closes his eyes and obediently sucks on it, an occasional gag echoing through the room.

She pushes her hips forward, forcing the strap to the back of his throat

He pulls away with a gasp, spit dripping down his swollen lips.

She slaps the strap against his cheek.

“Come on, put it back in.” She orders.

He wraps his lips around it once more, bobbing his head, eyes screwing shut. It was toeing the line of being a bit too big for his mouth, but he doesn’t object.

“Eyes up here, Mistress wants to see that pretty face.”

He blinks his watery eyes open, tears starting to stream down his face.

She lets go of the leash to gently wipe his tears away.

“Oh love,” She murmurs. “You’re such a pretty crier, you know that?”

Her hands still his head and she thrusts into his mouth. He chokes and grabs at her thighs but he quickly clasps them back in his lap at a loud “hands off.”

“Get it wet.” She barks. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

She thrusts her hips against his face at a brutal pace, the sounds of gagging and choking filling the room.

“You look so pretty choking on my cock.” She murmurs, “so, so pretty.”

He hums in bliss and sucks harder, ignoring his struggle to breathe.

She pulls at his hair, pulling him off of the strap.

“Now,” she gives the leash a downward tug. “Bend over. Mistress wants to fuck your pretty ass.”

As he settles on his hands and knees, she pulls the leash forward.

“No, like this.” He yelps when his face is pressed against the cool marble. “Much better.”

Loki bites his lip in anticipation when she traces her fingers down his back.

A cry leaves his lips when she slowly presses a wet finger in his hole.

“Hush.” She grabs his hip, nails digging into his skin. “You’re so tight, I have to open you up first.”

It hurts in the best way, the stretch increasing the ache within him.

This goes on for what feels like forever. He realizes that she’s using this as an opportunity to tease him. Get him as desperate as possible.

Loki hates to admit it, but it’s working. He could probably cum right this moment, but he’s aware of what will happen.

The bruises on his ass and thighs only recently just faded. He shivers at the memory.

A second finger pushes inside of him and he gasps.

He wails in both pain and pleasure when she scissors her fingers, opening him up.

“Oh, puppy,” she coos, “how are you supposed to take my cock if you can barely handle two of my fingers?”

“I can take it.” He whines. “I-“

His words are cut off with a sob when she lands a hard smack on his ass.

“Did I ask you to speak?” She retorts. “You were so good earlier, but if you want to misbehave, I could just shove a toy in your ass and refuse to touch you. Would you like that, darling?”

He viciously shakes his head, the thought of losing her touch was painful. He’d rather get ruthlessly spanked.

“No! I’m sorry! I’ll be good, I promise!”

Her gentle voice returns.

“‘Mmm. I know you can be a good boy. Just relax, I’ll take such good care of you.”

He tries not to clench around her fingers, but when she presses against his prostate, he can’t help it.

“Come on, relax. It’ll feel a lot better.”

He takes a deep breath and tries his best to release the tension in his body.

“Ooh, much better.” She hums. “Does that feel nice?”

He takes shallow breaths and nods.

“Yes.”

“Good. Very good.”

He feels her fingers slip out of him, only to be replaced with something much larger nudging at his hole.

Loki whimpers when she slowly pushes her strap in. Despite preparing him with her fingers, the stretch still hurt. He hisses and curls his fingers into fists.

“Oh puppy,” she coos, rubbing his hip. “Does that hurt?”

He nods his head

“Yes, mistress.”

“But does it feel good?”

He gasps when she pushes in deeper.

“So good.” He cries. “It feels so good.”

“So cute.” She sneers. “Falling apart on my cock.” Her hand tightens on the leash to give her more leverage. “I’m going to fuck you so hard, you won’t be able to sit on that golden throne of yours for days.”

Her hips thrust forward, pushing the rest of her strap into him.

Loki yelps and a tear slides down his cheek.

“Fuck.” He whines. “Feels- feels so good.”

“Mm. I bet I can make you feel better.”

One of her hands slides around his thigh and a finger traces up the length of his cock.

Loki throws his head back with a groan. The sensation of being stretched around her strap as well as her playfully teasing his cock overwhelms him.

She pulls at the leash with a rough hand and his back is flushed to her chest.

A hand grips his chin to turn his face to her and he’s met with her mouth pressing against his.

The angle at which she’s fucking him pushes the strap deeper, making him whine and sob into her mouth.

“Such a good boy.” She gasps. “Taking my cock so well.”

He’s borderline out of breath, the only sounds being gaspy breaths and whimpers.

“Are you a good boy?” She growls into his ear. When she doesn’t receive a response, she lands a loud slap on his ass. “Answer me!”

“Yes!” He sobs. “I’m a good boy! I’m your good boy.”

Her thrusts into him quicken and she squeezes her hand tighter around his cock.

“Then be a good boy and cum. Cum all over my hand.”

“I-” He pants, “I can cum?”

She wraps her arm around his hips and pulls him down on her cock, the tip pressing against his prostate.

“Aww, even when you’re falling apart, you’re still so good for me.” She licks a stripe up his neck. “Of course you can cum.”

He squirms as she pumps her hand, slick with spit and precum, up and down his cock. The pressure building inside of him was becoming far too much as he tumbles over the edge, sobbing as hot spurts of cum cover her hand and his stomach.

He rolls onto his back, careful not to get his cum on the floor. She holds herself up with her arms, panting and sweating from the physical exertion.

After a minute, she removes the harness and crawls over to him. He whines, overly sensitive when she licks off the cum from his stomach.

She gently cradles his face in her hands and shushes him.

“It’s okay, you’re okay.” She coos. “I’m right here.”

He relaxes into her touch and lets her rub her thumb across his tear-stained cheek.

“You were so good for me.” She murmurs. “You took me so well. Such a good boy.”

She frowns at the sight of his knees. Tenderly, she grazes her fingers over the bruises about to form.

“I think I’ll need to get you a cushion. Don’t want you hurting more than you have to.”

He tiredly whines and tugs her towards him.

“It’s okay. I like it.”

His grip on her tightens when she tries to get up.

“Love, I need to get you some water.” She nuzzles into his neck. “You had a long night.”

“I don’t want you to go.” He whimpers. “Please don’t go.”

She sighs and cradles his head against her chest.

“I won’t, I’ll stay with you.”

Her gentle hands card through his hair, slowing his rapidly beating heart. As his breath slows, she calmly unbuckles the collar around his neck and tosses it aside.

“I’ll just clean you up in the morning.” She murmurs, pressing a kiss to the crown of his head. “Get some rest, darling.”

She doesn’t sleep until he relaxes into her body, warm breath tickling her skin. Her fingers card through his sweaty hair, the locks feeling soft in her hands. Slowly, she lets her eyes close, sleep overtaking her tired body.

#loki #loki x reader #loki x female reader #loki x reader smut #sub!loki #sub!loki x reader #loki fanfic

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yanderenightmare · 4 years ago

Note

How would the yanderes react if their darling was the one to initiate intimacy/sex for the first time, and how do you think their darling would come to that point? (stockholm syndrome? being touch starved/deprived as punishment? etc.)

thirsty ! BNHA imagines

TIP-JAR

goodiebag WARNINGS: yandere, noncon/dubcon, abuse, profanity, anxiety, guilt, kidnapping, Stockholm syndrome, manipulation, mind control

BAKUGO KATSUKI - KACHAN

-ADDICTION

She was riding for dear life, chasing that light at the end of the tunnel.

Eyes tightly squeezed shut as she hopped up and down, sliding upon Bakugo’s impressive girth, moaning each time his tip poked into her cervix as she clapped down onto his lap again and again and again and again, harder and harder, deeper and deeper, hitting knew spots upon new spots, messaging uncharted territory, rearranging her organs, poking and prodding and fitting so snuggly and perfectly inside her she could all but start crying from the bliss of it all.

She was crying. Hot tears streaming down her cheeks, numb with how warm she was, feverish and febrile and growing madder with pleasure, drunk and drowning in euphoria.

“Fuck.” He stuttered out his gruff moan, barely holding onto her hips anymore.

He'd been inspired and insured that it would be fine to let her move on her own now, knowing he’d made it clear enough she wouldn’t be going anywhere without him being satisfied first, thinking she was showing so much enthusiasm simply to make him come quicker.

He hadn't yet sensed how desperately she was chasing the same release he was, especially since he’d already made sure she came twice before they even started. Once on fingers, once on his tongue. He wasn’t at all thinking she was preparing herself for a third time, especially not on his cock.

Having left her to do all the work for a while now, having been rendered completely blissed-out and awestruck with feeling her eager movements on top of him, he couldn’t really care much for how pathetic a mess he must have looked beneath her.

His eyes scrunched together to hold onto every sharp movement of her hips, lips pursed out and puckered with his grit-teeth, his cock standing proudly, pushing into her again and again at such a fast pace he was barely able to feel his climax coming dangerously close, too numb with pleasure to part it from his release, but as his balls were emptying inside her he shot up into a sitting position in favor of lying down, needing to hold her still so he could pump his load without it spilling, arms reaching around her to keep her pushed down and impaled on him.

She tried humping for more friction even in the tight secured lock, rocking into him, kept snug against his chest, trying so desperately to reach with his cock what was screaming inside her.

He made some indication he was done. His thick arms losing their grip around her torso, head resting on her shoulder as he panted, not yet understanding what hell or heaven he was in for, taken by surprise, by overwhelming panicked surprise.

“No!” She roared out her little whine. Her smaller hands protruding nails digging into his chest to push him back down on the bed, then continuing to ride despite feeling him tense beneath her.

He tried moving again, fearing, panicking because of his overstimulated cock being continuously pleased almost enough for it to be painful. The hunger already quenched being kept fed, drowning the thirst, so much he felt as though something might burst.

Her hands moved to yank his hair, pulling him back to rest on the pillow, her other hand pushing, seizing around his throat, violating his Adam’s apple, forcing him to gasp as he choked both on the action itself but also at the sheer controversy of it all.

Her mouth hovering above his own as he groaned from the pain of having his hairs ripped from his scalp and his vocal cords abused, whereas she only moaned in return, too concerned with feeling every inch of her being on fire to care.

“Oh fuck, please, Katsuki, please, more.”

Something tight tugged in his pelvis at the same time awe blossomed in his chest at the sight of her and those pretty eyes looking at him with tears and that sweet crinkle of plead between her brows.

His name dripping from her tongue like honey as she continued going up and down the length of his oversensitive cock, slipping even easier in now when coated in his cum. Her thighs sticking to his in juices as her head dipped to lay against his chest while she continued slapping, jumping on his cock with an unrelenting, unsatisfied determination.

His cock throbbed inside her, nearly crying, screaming with something playfully akin to aching, a pressure building again even as he thought it impossible.

She was stabbing herself with his cock, squeezing and seizing and fluttering around the blade, driving him mad.

But as soon as he got over the feeling of bursting, could he pull himself back.

Grabbing her waist and hoisting her off him, she nearly sobbed at the loss of contact.

He pouted in mimic, condescendingly. “Is the little slut begging for more?”

He grinned maniacally as he mounted her, surprised to see and feel her desperately trying to get closer as he pushed her down into the sheets beneath him, lining himself up with her sopping greedy cute little cunt.

He only teased for about a moment more before impaling her on his length once again, pushing all the way into her in a mere swift second, dragging a real pornstar-beautiful moan from her, gleeful to see her squeal with pleasure as he began thrusting into her sharply, angled to hit that sweet blissful spot inside her.

“Be a good girl and cum for me again.” He growled and she swore she felt it like thunder in her stomach, like explosions, like lightning striking. “That’s what you want isn’t it?” The frenzy in his voice, once only terrifying, now made her toes curl and her head feel like cotton. “You want me to make you cum? You want to cum on my cock like a good slut? My slut? Come on, cum for me.”

She was being fucked completely silly.

Tongue falling from her mouth along with a string of wet moans and drool and his name. Her eyes swimming with tears as she tried focusing on his and the gut-churning look of feral dominant lust in the heat of them that had her pussy clenching around him, yet was barely able to hold his gaze as she was being fucked into a cross-eyed mess, feeling the pressure build and build and build and getting so close to bursting she was crying with how she was being kept from her climax by some unknown cruelty.

She just needed him to go harder, go faster.

She just needed more, she just needed him, needed him and his glorious cock to help her.

MIDORIYA IZUKU - DEKU

-APOLOGY

“I hate you!”

It slipped before she was able to stop it, before she could reconsider, before she could save herself.

She watched with terror-wide eyes locked on his, awaiting whatever awful murderous intent he chose fit for her punishment, and was at once trembling.

Knees growing weak, apologies falling broken on her tongue as her fear’s need to cry outweighed her wish for recovery, resulting in simply blubbering on her sobs. Small frail hands reached out in protection, in a timid means of making him give her a second to gather herself as she fell apart with the painful fear that clenched around her heart, making it hard to breath, making it hard to see, hard to stand, hard to think, hard to do anything except for gasp for air, air that seemed to not want to enter her lungs quick enough.

“Hey, hey… breathe.”

She hadn’t even realised she’d collapsed, nor that Izuku had come to catch her fall, rocking her back and forth in his arms, head resting in his palm. Her eyes wide and frantic as she looked up at him for help, helpless in her crippling anxiety, anxiety he was the trigger of and seemingly the only source of comfort as well.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I take it back, I didn’t mean it, I’m sorry, please, forgive me, forgive me!” She gulped on shuddering breaths, sobbing, hysterical in her scrambling, so completely panicked, so utterly destroyed by her fear of him, knowing how those hands of his could hold the world just as easy as her head and her heart, where despite knowing that through and through she still sought out the comfort in how his fingers stroked through her locks, petting her calm.

Her hands, retrieving more and more mobility, reached up to fold across his back.

“I don’t hate you, I’m sorry, I’m just stupid, forgive me, I’m just ungrateful and spoiled and stupid.”

Tears rolled down her face as she propped herself up in his lap, hands desperate as she intertwined them in his locks, fervently trying to make up for her mistake, trying to prove she was able to correct herself, that she didn’t need another lesson, another one of his mind-shattering bone-crushing lessons.

The fact that he’d forced her into a perverted set of lingerie had fallen to waste, the fact that he’d been lecturing her about how she belonged to him, how she had no right to disobey him, how she was just a dumb little girl in a world too big for her to ever possibly understand, how she was good for nothing but being stress-relief for him. None of that mattered anymore.

What mattered was persuading him into taking enough pity on her to let her indiscretion slide.

She just needed to beg enough, she just needed to grovel and plead and cry enough.

“Sweetie…” He hummed, no anger present in his voice, but then again, there never was. Tone always laced or dripping with honey, giving no hint as to where his mindset was or what he was about to do.

And all it managed to do was make her cry harder, hold onto him tighter, fear climbing higher.

“It’s okay, Sweetie… I know you didn’t mean it.”

His words were all but reassuring, as she was waiting for the other side of the coin to show its face, waiting to hear his but’s and if’s and punishments and corrections, waiting for those hands of his to show her, to prove to her what she already knew yet let herself forget, that she was a small helpless stupid girl and he was nothing short of god.

“But…”

And there it was, her worst fear, her worst nightmare, all sounded in one word.

She couldn’t let him continue, and by god she couldn’t let him finish.

Wet soft bloated lips met, or rather pushed, forced themselves upon his stiff ones, suffocating all reprimanding comments, all and everything he was about to say.

She shuffled into a cradling position on his lap, body and chest glued tightly in his embrace, hands running, tangling, gripping desperately onto the emerald locks at the nape of his neck, lips whimpering upon his ones, as though begging them to kiss back.

That desperation tasted delicious on his tongue. How she sat on his lap like some wounded animal, begging for the kind and nurturing hand of their master to help soothe the pain away.

He wasn’t about to discourage that type of behavior, that form of apology.

She wasn’t ready to take his cock, but then again, she never was with how gifted he was and how cursed she were. His cock being so threateningly huge, just like the rest of him.

But given the rest of him was just as threatening, she could manage, she could survive taking but one of his limbs rather than having all his brutal strength take care of her.

So she buttoned up his pants, trembling fingers working hurriedly, spiked by fear of both what was to come and what would come were she to stop. Her mouth still laying sloppy tearful kisses onto his lips, as he didn’t seem to mind just how much she was sobbing to please him.

She was at once stroking him when he was out, her other hand rushing to save her own life as it messaged her clit, trying to warn her of what was to come, what needed to come.

Still he hadn’t said anything, still let her slave for him. Though that might be for the best in this case.

His large hands placed palms down on the floor, simply supporting him as he leaned on them.

When she broke off the kiss, he was about to correct her, yet she ducked quicker, wrapping her warm and wet lips around his cock and giving th head a swirl with her tongue before pushing down as far as she could, glucking on him so eagerly and desperately, rendering what reprimanding movement was to come of his hand to an encouraging petting of her head instead.

She only sucked for a brief moment, leaving the proudly bobbing spit-slicked pole cold once she parted with only strings of drool connecting them. She shuffling back up to align him with her entrance hurriedly.

Her lip quivered as she looked at him to search his stoic features, her body frozen, left to simply hover and sway above his impatient member, as she tried her best to quickly brace herself for the pain she was about to feel.

But then his patience wavered, and strong hands griped her hips and forced her down to take the cock, impaling her as he sheathed himself fully, earning a high-pitched screaming whimper from her.

She fell to his chest, hands tugging his shirt to steady herself as she winced at the feel of him tearing her apart.

“Silly me…” He chuckled, the sound cold and gut-wrenching. “Rewarding you when I should be punishing you.”

She breathed sporadically, hitched and hiccupping.

“I don’t deserve it, I don’t deserve it-”

Agreeing was the only course of action for her, the only thing she could afford.

“That’s right, you don’t deserve it.”

But the world is far from fair.

TODOROKI SHOTO

-DISTRACTION

He was coming.

He was coming and nothing could stop him, nothing could change his mind, nothing could help and nothing could save her, except maybe the next worst thing.

Bargaining pain with unwanted pleasure, the price being her pride, her dignity, her strength.

It would happen anyway after he was done making pretty artwork of her flesh, after he’d tampered with her limits long enough.

She had the chance to skip to the end. But the price remained her spirit, steep like her fear and heavy like her mind, heart and soul scaled together.

And yet, she made the gamble.

It was either she let him bite, chew and swallow her heart and spirit and soul on repeat or she bit back.

This was her biting back.

This was survival of the fittest.

This was her surviving.

She needed to take her aim now or never, before he did it first. So, she barreled the arrow, struck the bow, leveled her hawkeye and took the shot.

“I love you, Shoto.” She proclaimed.

Arrow flying, hands smooth in receiving his chest before he could tug her towards him. Meeting his hungry approach with a focused desperation of her own, dedicated as she pushed him back so that he was the one sitting and she was the one on top for once.

Hands gentle, without much pressure, drumming up the bruises and scars of his chiseled stomach, one side cold, the other hot.

“Will you let me show you how much I love you?” She questioned.

Time to see if the arrow had hit, lips pressed firmly to his forehead a short second later, before pressing one against his temple, careful to not hurt him where the skin was scarred and sensitive around his eye, then one against his jaw, and neck, and shoulder, and chest, trailing down further and further.

He stirred once she kissed on a particular cut, his hands coming to hold her back as he began sitting up.

Yet she was firm in her resolution, her own hands pushing his shoulders down.

“No, no...” She tutted, tone still soft. Not at all as though she was giving him a demand. Not at all like how he thought a command should sound, what he’d learned his mistakes would grant him from those people he trusted.

Not at all like his father’s voice of tyranny and terror.

“Let me take care of you.” She whispered it, and his heart clenched with memories of how his mother would patch him up after training.

The arrow well planted in his chest now.

“You just lie back...”

She kissed his cheek then, adamant she’d make him cry, make him become soft, help him, to save herself.

“Relax....”

She kissed his lips then and she swore she heard him whimper like a kicked pup, all fragile beneath her, broken and just a boy rather than the cruel man she knew him to be.

And then he was crying. Softly and quietly, but crying nonetheless. Thin streams of saltwater running down the corners of his pretty eyes.

He looked so vulnerable then. Vulnerable like glass, no… like ice melting.

And when the ice had finally melted she could either swim or drown in what ocean was left behind, all depended on how softly she handled him, where one wrong word would make him sharp like bladed icicles again, and the right words would keep him like this. Small, weak, needy, tame. You can only kiss storms when you’re right in the eye of them, where one misstep will send you flying, falling, to your despair, to your death.

She could make no mistakes.

She aligned her naked sex up with his. The steam in the room layered thick with dew on their naked bodies, alongside nervous sweat.

“You and I are the only ones that matter in this entire world, Shoto…”

She sat down, hungrily ripping a groan from his chest at her almost brutal pace, and she moaned as she dipped down to lay herself on his chest, feeling him sink and twitch inside her, fill her up so perfectly, like two things falling into sync, like yin and yang, like balance.

“It’s only you and me between heaven and hell.”

She whispered the words like a chant, like witchcraft, the breath of them tickling his skin as she kissed down his pelvis, still firmly planted on top of him, hand trailing after, running over him smoothly and precisely, careful in their venture, before dropping down from the loft of his hips to entangle her small breakable finger in his destructive hands

“And everything else is just falling snow…”

She rocked her hips, like a smooth wave rolling into shore, thighs cradling his torso snugly, keeping him safe and trapped beneath her as she continued lolling forward on repeat, tentatively feeling after the pressure his hands gave hers, how tightly he squeezed, if it were a form of encouragement or discomfort, their wrists laid on the warmth of her thighs.

“I love you, Snow-Angel.” He cried, voice jagged and so far away from anything she’d ever heard.

And though this was what she’d been aiming for, having it enrol before her was a frightening type of uncharted waters she hadn’t at all any knowledge of how to tackle.

And that fear, the fear of drowning, increased so spectacularly when he sat up.

His fingers slipping from hers, leaving her control and wrapping around her torso instead, tightly, so tightly she feared he’d break her spine.

And then the heat followed, the blistering heat.

And then the cold, the promise of frostbite.

But then… he was still crying...

Crying like a toddler into her shoulder, nuzzling in her neck and all those terrifying and painful promises seemed to mellow, leaving her unscathed yet panicked, as without the pain she had no way of knowing when or where to go, resulting to her simply sitting there, comforting her captor, speared on his cock of her own choosing, with his tears running down her back.

Her heart beating painfully rapid in her chest as she slowly and unsurely raising her freed fingers to wrap into his dual-coloured locks, petting his head and hoping, praying she wasn’t falling prey to any false sense of safety.

DABI - TODOROKI TOUYA

-HABIT

They were doing what they always did.

Simply lounging.

Slugged on the bed, in each-other’s arms. Sickly sweet fumes in the dank room. Air thick like a cloud, dark and grey and matt.

The walls having been erased or rather blurred out into nothing, leaving them there, floating in and about nothing, each-other’s warmth the only constant.

Where in the complete lack of scheduling it had become like schedule, like ritual to simply lay and do nothing, then do something that threw them back into exhaustion which in turn resulted in yet again doing nothing, except maybe sleep.

The day lacked much, and in its lacking there were certain expectations, certain instincts and impulses that had arisen inside her.

She knew something was coming, anticipation, she knew something was supposed to come, and yet they still laid there and did nothing, when they were supposed to be doing… well… something, so that they yet again could go back to doing nothing.

It was safe to say her head had become rather empty at this point.

“Are we forgetting something?” She felt the need to ask, felt the need to hear Dabi tell her, give orders in where she should go and what she should say, something not allowing her to feel the terror of why those necessasties had become second nature or why she found refuge in them.

He mumbled in return, tone dark and scratchy like gravel or coal, evoking something to twist in her lower abdomen and purr with pleasure. “And what would that be?”

Dabi’s hand still fingered a rolled blunt, perfect with his expertise and nimble lanky fingers. Hand dragged to his mouth to take the final blow, smoke puffed out into the small space of the bedroom, layered thickly in the air.

Her eyes puffy and watery and red yet remaining open out of habit. Her lips burned, or rather stung, prickled from the after affects, her mouth dry as though full of ash, and as she breathed she felt the scratchy raw feeling of her throat by how much she’d been coughing earlier.

Dabi was always certain she didn’t take proper drags, therefore resulting in taking the drag for her, locking his lips painfully tight around hers, blowing until her face turned red and he could be sure the smoke reached her lungs. He was never satisfied before her eyes glossed over, blank and stupid, blinking at him so softly, as all off her became softer and softer, both her gaze, her voice, her words, her actions, her thoughts, her resistance.

“I don’t know…” She honestly didn’t, all she felt was that something was missing, that she required something, or that something was required of her, the feeling that she was supposed to be doing something or have something done to her.

Dabi turned his head to look at her, inspecting her features, the cute confusion warping her face into a feeble timid expression, brows softly scrunched together, eyes focusing on nothing yet something as she raked through her empty head, her foggy ditzy subdued head.

A look of near endearment present on his face as he watched on for a second for the sake of amusement.

He cupped her cheek, her eyes quickly skittering to meet his, as though on command, knowing by instinct that was what she was supposed to do.

“Are you waiting for something, doll?”

Her lips quivered, and he could already spot the brimming of bubbling tears that came flooding to the surface. Soon to be spluttering out hopeless mumbles if he didn’t save her from the fall first. He was almost tempted not to, if only to scoop up what was left afterwards, put the pieces back together in whatever order he so wished, but he was feeling benevolent tonight.

His smile was soft as it neared her, deceptively so, kind and well-wishing, as his lips met with hers.

It felt like salvation, it felt like peace, it felt like all was falling into place, the way they should be, and she felt safe, no… she felt saved. From what? She did not know, as she had not the mind to care. All she had the mind for was to kiss back.

She moved more on her own now, with the reminder of his tongue in her mouth, the taste making her feel like she was being welcomed home.

Leg sweeping over his to plant herself in his lap, in her rightful place, feeling the all too familiar poking of his hard cock kept bulged beneath the comfort or discomfort of his briefs and jeans, brushing into and past the thin fabric of her cotton laced panties, soon to be drenched, as on cue, as though she’d been taught that would be best.

Her eyes were wide, wide with falling, with being lost, with wanting him to catch her, to save her, wide with waiting, hanging onto his every movement, as though incapable of doing anything on her own, as though only capable of taking orders. Just as he’d shaped her.

His finger drummed alongside her thighs where she knelt on his cock. His other hand doing the same, meeting where his jeans were kept on, unbuttoning, then zipping down, all so slowly, all to watch her features turn even more lost, into something that looked so adorably like hope.

“Is this what you wanted?”

He pulled his stiff dick out of his boxers, having it spring and stand proudly in the air, curved and pierced with all sorts of fun.

She licked her lips mindlessly, eyeing the pole, wanting, no, needing, no… compelled to pull her underwear aside, revealing what dripping drooling well-trained mess had pooled from her.

Feeling so utterly fulfilled, it feeling so positively right, as though what she’d lost was now returned, was she’d been missing she’d found, and what more, what she’d been missing had been missing her as well, hungrily so, painfully so. It was all she could think of when she eased down onto the towering pole until she was filled up to the brim, only to push down some more to envelope him entirely, feel him stretch and curve inside her.

More after that, she didn’t know what she needed to do, but she was sure she’d know once she got there, she was sure Dabi would be a saint and tell.

SHIGARAKI TOMURA

-BOREDOM

She was losing her mind.

It was a horrendous type of silence. Silence that wasn’t really silence at all as it was cut and sliced and murdered and bled out into the tactless endless mocking clicking of Tomura’s consoler.

Sharp aggressive smacks where he thumbed the joysticks, quick slaps with his long veiny bony fingers slamming with unneeded force into fragile buttons.

She felt the sting in her temple, eyes squeezed so impossibly tight to a close as her ears sung with irritation.

“I’m done.”

She only barely recognised her own voice. Though she knew she mouthed the words and she knew she added timber and tone to sound them, but that whine, that sickly sweet defeat that laced the syllables, as though she were crying, as though she were begging, that wasn’t her, but that was who she’d become.

“You win.”

And she wasn’t at all sure if she cared anymore about her defeat.

“No… I’m about to.” He mumbled, eyes glancing to her briefly, split-secondly, before they swiftly, with lightning speed, stuck back to watch the bright screen a foot in front of him, the clicking made by his ruthless fingers never once stopping.

She wondered how such force was even possible, given he had to lift one digit on each hand in order not to destroy what he held so preciously. How he had the grip, the agility, the mobility and speed and precision was something that spurred through her mind each time she watched him go on, winning more so than losing. She guessed it was practice. Sometimes it would amaze her, somedays she would watch mindlessly as he sped through all levels, all ranks, all challenges, all side quests, win after win, wondering if it even posed any challenge, any stimulation when he seemed to complete them all with such ease and finesse, effortlessly.

Sometimes it would amaze her, but this was not one of those times.

She swore her ears were bleeding, they were screaming and crying and strangling all wishes she had of sleep. The bed was too soft and everything was too soft, too quiet, yet not quiet at all and she was so fucking bored, so fucking drained of everything and anything except irritation and the need for something and anything, something loud, something sharp to wake her up, something terrifying or something anything everything that could make her feel something anything everything.

She needed it, and she needed it desperately, all things aside, fuck who she was, and especially fuck that shitty fucking game he was playing.

“Fuck! Your stupid! Game! Tomura!”

She hadn’t even realized she’d slid off the bed and was standing on her numb feet, game controller snatched from him in one second and smashed to smithereens on the wall in the next.

She looked more shook than him, if he was being honest.

Nonetheless.

“What the fuck?!”

He was mad, no, he was fuming.

And she lived for it.

“I swear, you’re gonna pay-”

He hadn’t even reached her before her lips split into a grin, eyes like lightning awaiting the thunder.

“Gladly, punish me, do something, do anything!”

She wasn’t proud with her playful hinting, but you aren’t supposed to live your life without doing things you regret. And though she was playing spoiled brat for a notorious villain, the most dangerous individual she’d ever met, he also had a cock crafted by monsters that seemed to hit every spot it needed to, finding and creating new ones as it filled her up to the brim and she was salivating just by the thought of being split open on it, especially by seeing what mood she’d conjured from him.

But, even though her pride dripped from between her thighs, she was not too eager to plainly say that she desired his dick balls-deep within her needy cunt.

“What?”

He’d stopped in his tracks, eyeing her. And though some part of him wanted to believe what disgusting depraved thoughts he had regarding why she was seeking his attention, he knew better, rendering her annoyance to simply picking a fight with her captor, quite like a how child throws tantrums at their parents or prisoners riot.

Turns out her playful words did little to sway his thoughts regarding the situation.

“You’ve been playing your dumb videogames all week!” She whined, almost screeching. Eyes angry and lips pouty.

He wanted nothing more but to show her what bad behaviour would give her, but seeing how punishment would be giving her what she had requested, he wasn’t too quick to fold to his desires.

“It feels like I’m dying, make me feel something, anything…”

She was pleading he realized, and stopped in wonder at the revelation.

She was pleading with him, begging for him, for anything of him, anything meaning anything…

Yet… surely not what he wanted it to mean.

“No.” He forced on a nonchalant tone. “You smashed my controller, I’m not rewarding you for that, there are nicer ways of asking…” He drawled and turned casually to get back in his chair, pondering his need to purchase another custom-made console, thinking he had a couple things he wanted to fix anyway.

Was she really going to have to be so literal? Was she really going to have to bend over and beg for him to take her? Was she really going to have to serve him her heart, her spirit, her mind, and soul and body on a silver platter for him to take it?

She thought he was greedy. She thought he was depraved enough to hear what she was asking of him.

No way he was ignoring the invitation, right?

If that were the case, he could at least mock her for her begging, but he barely seemed to even recognise her change in attitude at all. Granted, she couldn’t really see much of his expression beneath that mop of hair.

She wanted to scream, pull her hair out of her head, yet as her knees hit the floor and Tomura sat back down in his chair, she realized she had but one thing to do.

Crawl.

She was silent, shuffling under the table, taking one gluttonous drag through her nose, mouth watering at the reek of male musk, his musk, Tomura’s musk, a smell so undeniably him.

She wasn’t sure she wanted to let him know she was there yet, but decided to be a tease and better prepare him for what she was about to do.

Experienced and confident fingers pressed a woman’s touch to his ankles, running skilled tender touches over the flexing of his calves’ muscles, despite feeling him tense beneath her. Undiscouraged as they went smoothly over his thighs to reach the hem of his boxers, reaching inside them to pull out what she was proud to feel thick and stiff and just as needy as her, warm and pulsating in her tiny palm.

Handling him delicately. First she licked her lips wet and gave the head a pretty popping kiss, before producing her tongue like a pillow for the cap and flicking the pink muscle from side to side under the sensitive skin that was already oozing with precum onto her tastebuds.

She her his breath stifle, but allowed him no rest as she closed her warm wet mouth around him.

He broke instantly.

Now knowing it wasn’t his mind playing tricks.

“Fuck! You win, you win!” He hissed, hand wrapping around her throat to pull her up from her conquering. “If I’d known what a needy little slut you were I'd have given you cock earlier. You should’ve just said so...”

They both giggled ludically as he threw her down on the bed, Thrill already bubbling up a storm on her insides with such lust to be fucked out of her bloody mind she was quaking from head to toe and screaming out her moan when he pushed perfectly into her wetness in one fell swoop.

TAKAMI KEIGO - HAWKS

-NECESSITY

He heard the padding of her approach. Soft footed and gentle. Not at all like how she would usually stomp around in rage of being trapped.

He didn’t look up at first, thinking she didn’t want anything to do with him, as per usual, yet in his blurry unfocused vision he could spot she’d stopped in front of him, waiting for his acknowledgement, where he sat on the coach, undisturbed and undisturbing until now, scrolling through his phone.

He decided to ignore her, testing to see if she’d speak up and announce her demands, yet was surprised to see she stood there patiently, no words, no screams.

Curiosity getting the better of him he looked up, finding her standing there bare-footed, skin wet, towel wrapped around her, hair dripping, eyes leaking, though not from shower-water, but from brimming with tears.

His instincts kicked in then at the sight of her.

“Are you okay?”

He sprung from the coach, expecting her to push him away once he reached for her, yet was surprised to feel her attach to him, latch around him, welcome his warmth and his offered condolence instead of her usual rejection and snarling.

“Hey, hey, don’t cry, why are you crying?”

He realized then that her body was quaking, seemingly febrile, so much plead knotted between her brows he’d never seen anything like it.

It made him concerned to say the least, eyes searching her body for any possible explanation in the form of bruises, thinking maybe she’d hurt herself, already scolding himself for having left her alone.

“Baby? What's going-”

He didn’t smell it at first, what with the scent being washed off and all at the hands of her shower, but the aroma was soon layered thick in the room, growing alongside her desperation.

A scent so heavenly, so lavish and sweet and ambrosial, already making water pool in his mouth.

Her shaking made sense then, so did the tears, and the desperation and the potent adorable look of despair written all over her pitiful little cute face.

“Oh… I see.”

He was going to take advantage of this.

He was going to ring it for every drop it was worth.

“Does my little angel need me?” His voice shed its concern swiftly, curling into something sweetly sadistic and salacious.

His fingers hung onto her chin, or rather, her chin hung off his fingers.

“If you ask nicely perhaps I’ll-”

“You’re being cruel.” She stated, voice so sweet, so vulnerable, breaking as she sniffled, bottom lip trembling so preciously, as he wasn’t sure the shower-water was instead not indeed sweat. Knees weak, arms heavy, head pounding, stomach hurting, eating her from the inside in desperate need to feed the bottomless hunger that was growing and weeping in her lower abdomen.

Her hand held loosely over her stomach, visibly shaking.

He ignored her statement. “That was a long shower…” It was an insinuating observation, cocky in its nature. “Were you trying to help yourself on the showerhead?”

He quirked a brow at him, a smirk playing in the corner of his mouth.

“Trying to get out of grovelling for me, hm? Despite knowing how my cock is the only thing that can save you.”

He was gleeful, sadistic bliss tickling through his body, sending pleasure through every nerve, because he knew, he knew he was right and he knew what was coming. He knew she would fold, surrender, succumb, and he knew how grateful she’d be afterwards, dripping with his cum, eyes opium-blown, euphoric and fluttering, and looking at him with such wholehearted, such won-over love.

Though, know all that filled her eyes were glistening tears and swirling suffering.

“It hurts…”

His heart clenched at that.

She looked like a toddler, small and weak and helpless and innocent, as though if it weren’t for her predicament she wouldn’t be abusing every ounce of energy in her being to make him miserable.

How ironic, she being the miserable one now, all dependent on him.

“It hurts, please, please help me, help me, Keigo.”

She was aching. Her small needy hands coming to grab at him, to pull him closer as she sobbed, whining so beautifully for him.

“I need you, Keigo.”

He was getting wrapped up in it, hanging onto every perfect needy jerking she did to try and get closer, to try and help herself against him, licking it up as though he was parched

And he was, he truly was, she’d drained him dry, rejecting each and every proclamation of his love. She’d laughed at it, waged war against it, and here she was, finally, embracing it, begging for it.

He realized, he needed this just as much as she did.

He didn’t need anything weightless like a stupid apology, he just needed to hear her say those pretty words.

“I need Hawks.”

Her eyes grew dark, pupils blown wide with lust as her words were laced with such feral carnality.

His hands grabbed ahold of her ample hips, grinding her into himself, where she met his attack by effortlessly maneuvering her legs to wrap around his torso, hands cupping his face as she peered into his eyes, wanting to drown herself in the gold.

“I need you deep inside me, filling me up, wreaking me…”

Her lips hovered above his own as she clutched tightly onto him, begging with every inch of her body, clinging to him as though it were for her very life.

“I need your cum, I need you to fuck me until I can’t walk or talk or think or feel, until I’m numb and all I can see is you, all I can think is you, all I am is you and yours.”

He was left awestruck by the way she looked at him, as though he were the world, or her god, with so much love and so much desperate desire and fear.

A fear he’d come to know all too much chasing her. A fear of rejection, a fear of having her heart broken, a feeling that’s all too much like dying.

“I need your love, please, please love me, Keigo.”

He couldn’t refuse, despite wanting to have used this opportunity as a lesson, he couldn’t. He couldn’t leave her suffering and he most definitely couldn’t leave himself suffering now that his cock was hungry for the attention she was all too eager to give him.

SHINSO HITOSHI

-SUBMITANCE

She knew she should be disgusted, she knew she should be angry, she should be fighting it.

If she were the feral creature quite alike the lioness or tigress or any other wild cat, she should by law be scratching and clawing and snarling. She should revolt, reject, uproar at the feel of a collar around her throat.

But here she was, big wide glossy opium-soaked eyes staring up at her Master and his compelling lilac orbs, feeling her stomach curl at the feel of his big fist tugging her leash as he hovers above her, purring like a little kitten, like the little kitten she was, at the feel of his swollen thick cock filling her up so snuggly, breeding her good, while she drools at the collar put, not just on her throat, but on her mind, panting over the thought of having his commands lick every nerve of her body, making her twist and bend and bow all to his wishes.

Fluffy tail wrapped around his leg, holding onto him in the softest form of embrace as her hands are otherwise occupied with being tied to the bed-post.

She whimpered, aching fingers wanting to touch, to run smooth soft fingertips over his skin, his scars, tangle in his wild lavish purple locks.

She bit her lip and clenched around the member inside her, making him groan as he bottomed-out and pulled back again.

“Could- could Master… untie me?” She needed to ask, voice timid and hopeful, again feeling him slowly inch into her core, messaging her insides, her walls kissing alongside his girth, sucking on him gratefully.

He quirked an eyebrow, as if to ask why, or to tell her why he couldn’t do that.

“I want to touch you…” She pleaded, a confession so sweet and voice anything but brazen or wanton, blinking shamefully, guilty of her lust, even though in the light of what he’d done to her and made her do to him, it sounded like mere child’s play, something she shouldn’t even be allowed to be embarrassed about.

His eyes scanned her, curious, doubting her, yet having felt how her legs wrapped around his torso, and the ever-playful cuddling tail that had slithered between his thighs and latched itself around his ankle, tugging on him like such a clingy little devoted kitty.

His lips curled up into a smile, looking down at his little bashful housebroken pet, thrilled to see her look up at him too, eyes full of awe on both sides, lustful, loving.

He pushed himself fully into her, cockhead kissing her cervix, and she gave a mew, moaning while he bowed down to meet her lips with his.

His hands danced up her arms, drumming alongside her limbs before they met with the knots around her wrists, tugging them loose.

Once she was free she hesitated. Eyes still so wide, as though asking for permission, as though asking for guidance, or… as though she were waiting for him to tell her what to do, and then, as though a question was burning at her lips.

“Master… ask me a question?” She requested, slowly bringing her hands down from their position, placing them around the back of his neck, fingers playing with his soft wild hair.

He needed to take a second or two to really fathom what she’d just said, where his mind seemed to leap once he did.

“Something you don’t want the answer to.”

He swallowed thickly, suddenly feeling a rush of blood pool in his cheeks. His breathe grew heavy and eyes intense.

“Do you know what you’re asking?”

He needed to be sure, he needed to hear her say it, admit to it

His doubts were answered as she blinked, biting her lips, looking away shyly, clearly knowing how wrong it was of her to request him entering and playing with her mind like that.

“Yes…”

He couldn’t help but smile at her timidity, how she blushed under his gaze. But still, he needed her to give him the entirety of her desire.

“Tell me…”

He rested his forehead on her hers, happy with butterflies in his stomach at the feel of her affectionate hands running through his locks.

“What do you want from me, Kitten?”

Her breath shuddered, legs climbing higher up his back, pulling him closer. Their eyes so adamant on looking, drowning in the other. His storm of lilac so dominant and dangerous, making her mouth water and toes curl and head flutter with knowing how she was completely trapped, completely where he wanted her, loving it all the same, finding refuge in the fact, finding safety and belonging and peace.

“I want…”

Her eyes where only wide, wide with hope and searching for if he’d catch her when she now jumped, leaped into his arms.

“I want you. I want your- your teeth in my mind, marking me, making me yours, making me… feel…”

All of her was clinging to him now, her tail so neatly and snuggly slithered around his ankle, as though chaining him to her, her hands as well entangled with the unruly hair at the nape of his neck, her legs wrapped around him so tightly and desperately, pussy clenching around his cock like a vice, and her eyes hanging off of all and everything of what was giving her.

“Making you feel what?” He pushed, giving another thrust where he barely pulled out only to rock into her again.

“Safe.”

That was such an innocent word, such a sweet wish it made his heart hurt with something he couldn’t quite place, whether it was guilt or satisfaction he couldn’t tell.

“Will you do that? For me?”

He could get lost in those eyes of hers forever, those moon-big round eyes, opium-black and blown pupils so wide he thought he was falling through space with how much they reflected the limited light inside their room.

“Do you love me?” He asked then, fearing the answer.

“Yes.”

A word can be so many things, a vow, a promise, an echo, a welcome.

Her eyes went blank then, but not before she gave the softest hum as though to say thank you as she felt his presence seep into her mind. Her limbs losing all types of stress, becoming numb and soft. All her worries blanketed, where all she dreamt of was velvet lilac-tinted oceans, getting drunk on grapes and the smell of lavender and all things purple like those great godlike eyes staring down at her, the ones keeping her spellbound and tethered in a deadlock, the ones she belonged to.

CHISAKI KAI - OVERHAUL

-COMFORT

The slamming shut of the apartment door, followed by the digital clicking of the lock being closed is how she knew he was home.

He hadn’t said anything.

Where usually he would at least greet her as she quickly sprung across the marble floors to welcome him home, take his jacket, kiss his cheek, all so perfectly like he’d taught her.

He hadn’t said anything.

No ‘I missed you’ or ‘thank you, princess’.

He hadn’t said anything at all.

But most things with Kai weren’t verbal anyway.

She’d learned to pick up cues, analyze a raised brow, or a slight shift in posture, or the almost imperceptible narrowing of his eyes.

He hadn’t said anything, but the scowl that accompanied his aura spoke volumes to the girl. Finding his state of mind, concerned with what she found, as it was not his usual nonchalance nor his occasional contempt, but bitter.

He groaned then, once she’d helped him out of his jacket, green and tacky, purple faux fluff, something so out-of-place on Kai, yet also serving as one of his key recognizable traits.

He kicked off his shoes, also something so very out of character it brought her concern, followed by him shuffling, feet dragging on the floors in complete opposition to how he would usually walk, with his head held high, regarding the floor as though it should be grateful to be gifted by him walking on it.

Now though, he slumped, still without a word, up the stairs, sauntering without haste, without enthusiasm, all in goal of reaching the bed, which he laid out flat on once he got to it.

“Are you okay?” She asked timidly, having followed him and standing unsurely on the threshold of the door, not knowing whether she was welcome or not.

He simply pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing, giving her the answer she’d guessed already.

“Can I do anything to help?” Again, she kept her voice soft and tender, hopeful; cheerful in hopes of cheering him up.

“I doubt it.” His answer was curt and bitter as he sat up on the bed, tugging loose his tie with an exhausted growl of irritation.

She padded around the bed then, not exactly having been given an invitation to stay, but not exactly having been given any indication to leave either.

Careful as she climbed up behind him, like a cat easing in on its prey, gracious and soft and focused on not alarming or disturbing the goal.

“Surely there must be something I can do?”

His ears picked up on the play in her voice, the thin hairs at the back of his neck rising, yet his curiosity was stifled as her hands, once so small and insignificant, became the hands of God.

Fingers kneading into his back, thorough and forceful yet welcomed by him through a breathy guttural groan, closing his eyes with much needed rest as he let himself fall completely to the feeling of her messaging all his tense stress right out of his shoulders, seemingly sucking all the bad out of him.

He gave yet another throaty groan as her fingers rubbed and dug into his back, her hand stopping his head from slugging forward, cupping him tenderly and guided him to rest against the softness of her chest instead.

“Do you feel better now?”

She spoke like how a mother should, sweet like summer breeze, just above a whisper, eager to please, affectionate, without ill-will, without anything to gain, selfless and beautiful, and something he was in desperate need of.

He moaned, a long dragged out breathy moan, one filled with such potent gratitude it made her smile.

“Getting there...”

She hummed, her hands like absolution handling his back like dough, thumbs rubbing the stiffness into tender soft flesh once again, working through the knots, before climbing, mounting his shoulders and ensnaring his neck, gentle fingers running smoothly to unbutton his shirt, her face nuzzling in his neck as it was exposed to her, soft plump lips kissing the sensitive skin found there, knowing exactly where to focus, hearing him moan in relief as she zeroed in on his soft-spot.

Her hands running, dancing down his chest, unbuttoning the last of his buttons, helping him slide out of it.

Quick to take her bra off, still while kissing his neck, before pushing her warm soft mounds into his back, hugging herself against him.

“How about now?” Her voice like honey as her words tickled on his neck.

“Almost…”

She slithered around to seat herself in his lap, hands cupping his cheeks as she leaned in to kiss him, naked chest rubbing up against naked chest, warm and soft, homey and safe.

Her hand drummed playfully down his stomach, reaching his pants, moving skillfully on its own to undo the belt-buckle, then the button, then pulling down the zipper.

He shuffled them down his thighs on his own, still keeping his chin lifted to receive her kisses. His clothed erection bumping up into the thin protection of her panties.

Her hand, still so smoothly, reached under the band of his boxers to pull him out. Though his rough way of ripping her lacy underwear off managed to break through her calm demeanor as she yelped a bit and flinched.

However the surprise was quickly followed by giggles as she continued to kiss him, feeling his smirk against her lips and soon his hand cupping her ass before running hungry pressured fingertips around her thigh to play with her slit, thumb roughly pushing into her clit as other reckless digits ran though her folds to test the waters, quite parallel to how carefully she handled his cock with her own elegant hand, rubbing him up and down ever so gently, with the tenderness he carved.

He hissed once her thumb rubbed over his sensitive head, biting into her lip, and though his beastly impulses used to alarm her, now she could only think of them as an invitation.

Holding his cock up to her entrance, giving him time to remove his fingers from her now soaking folds.

She sunk down on him slowly, moaning softly against his lips as he groaned upon hers.

“Better now?” She asked, without giving way to the cockiness her question carried, but he deciphered it with ease nonetheless, giving her ass a playful squeeze before guiding her to lay down on her back, nibbling on her neck as he chuckled at how she disguised her devilish naughty humour as being innocent, wanting to make her choke on that haughtiness as he gave a quick sharp thrust up into her.

Her moan rung throughout the massive penthouse where no doors were kept closed, as he licked the sin right off her expression with one needy hungry kiss and a promise as well as a threat.

“I will be once I hear you scream my name, princess.”

TIP-JAR

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touyasdoll · 4 years ago

Note

Bakugo+🚬+smut

Frustrated

NSFW, Minors DNI

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x reader

Genre: Smut

Warnings: smoking, exhibitionism, public sex, biting, unprotected sex

The cool breeze of the evening air hit you as you stepped outside, letting the employee entrance door of the agency swing shut behind you. You sucked in a breath of fresh air, wrinkling your nose at the smell of smoke permeating your nostrils.

Glancing over, you saw your patrol partner inhaling the cigarette that he held between his lips. He was hunched over, sitting on a bench with his elbows resting on top of his knees, looking about as approachable as he usually did.

"Didn't realize you were a smoker," you took a step closer, dipping a toe into the water to gage his mood, "Wouldn't have pegged you for the type."

He spared a glance in return, staring back down at the ground as he took another drag, "Something to take the edge off." He paused before scooting over on the bench and nodding to the seat beside him, "Sit, if you want."

"Oh, thanks," you offered a small smile, which went unnoticed as you smoothed your skirt and sat down beside him, "Would you mind if I bummed one off ya?"

He scoffed, shaking his head with a smirk, "And here I thought that you were judging me, Princess," he reached into his pocket, flicking his wrist to flip open the pack in your direction.

"You say that like I have room to judge," you scoffed back, picking a cigarette out and tucking it between your teeth as you held your hand out for a light.

The corners of his lips upturned in an amused grin as he held a single finger up and leaned in. You followed his lead, bringing your face closer to his as he pressed the pad of his finger to the end of the cigarette. You held his ruby red gaze as you hollowed your cheeks, breathing life into the rolled tobacco when his finger sparked against it.

It was hard to tell if it was the rush of nicotine, that you were so unaccustomed to, or the proximity of your face to his that had your head spinning. You broke first, eyes darting away as you leaned back, exhaling the smoke you'd held in your lungs.

He kept his eyes trained on you, watching the way your lips pursed together as the puff left them, letting his eyes wander lower, casting them over your torso, along the length of your short skirt, which fanned out over just enough of your thighs to be considered decent.

He whipped his head away, hoping to make the motion look casual as you turned your attention back to him, "What're you still doing here so late?"

"Put off a little too much paperwork last week, so I had to play catch up," he settled his elbows back on his knees. "I could ask you the same thing, you're hardly ever here past quittin' time."

You shrugged, exhaling decisively as you leaned back on your hand, crossing one leg over your knee, feeling your skirt fall a little higher on your thigh. He seemed to take notice, his eyes following the fabric and yours following his stare as you smiled to no one but yourself.

"Been feeling a little frustrated lately. A little, pent up, you know?" You tilted your head slightly to the side, exposing your neck as you arched your back, the motion exaggerating the way your chest heaved as you took another slow drag. “Trying to put some of that energy into work.”

He stole a glance at your chest, clearing his throat as he caught himself, trying to pass it off as a cough, a symptom of the white stick burning between his fingers, but you knew better. He rubbed his thigh, inhaling another puff as he sat up straighter.

"I getcha," he nodded, speaking as he held the smoke in his lungs, "What's got you fucked up?"

"If I'm being honest?" You tilted your head in thought, staring straight ahead, "I could really use a good fuck."

You had to focus to keep your poker face on as you watched his reaction from the corner of your eye. His eyebrows raised, head whipping towards you, trying to confirm if his ears had deceived him.

"You really down that bad? I find that hard to believe,” he chuckled, flicking away the stub of his worn cigarette. “Lookin’ the way you do, you could walk into any bar you wanted and find someone to take you home.”

“Maybe I could,” you ran a hand up your thigh, playing with the hem of you skirt, tugging it up just a bit higher, nearly enough for him to have a peek at what was beneath it. “But there’s this guy I’ve been trying to get at for a while now. Little dense though. Real shame he can’t see how hard I’ve been trying to fuck him.”

“Huh,” his eyes alight, moving from your bared thigh to meet your gaze, a playful smirk on his lips. “Guy sounds like a real asshole. What do you see in him?”

“Eh, he has his moments,” You smiled, tilting your head and turning your torso in his direction, “He is a bit of an asshole. Helps that he’s hot.”

“Well at least this dumb bastard’s got that goin’ for him.” He kicked a leg over the bench, straddling it as he faced you and smirked, “I’d be kicking myself if I were him.”

“Oh, would you?” You mirrored his actions, pressing your skirt against the bench as you kicked your leg over it, “what else might you do if you were him?”

“Well now, that really depends on you,” he shifts forward, weight resting on his hands, sitting just between your spread thighs, “what are you into, baby?”

“How ‘bout I show you? Mind holdin’ this for me?” You smile, keeping your eyes on him as you pull the cigarette from your mouth, blowing the smoke off to the side. Carefully, you place it between his lips, resting your hands on his shoulders as you stand and straddle him.

“Not at all,” it wiggles between his lips as he cups your ass, bringing your hips against his as he rocks forward, grinding his erection against your barely clothed pussy.

You moan, a soft, breathy noise into his ear as you catch the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging to tilt his head to the side. He echoes the noise as you kiss and suck at the skin of his neck.

“You sure you wanna do this here?” He pants, slipping a hand between your thighs and pressing two fingers against the soaked fabric.

“Yes,” you breathe, wrapping an arm around his neck as you trap the cigarette in his mouth between two fingers.

He sucks in, eyes locked with yours as you pull it from his lips and flick it away. His hand comes behind your head to pull you in, your mouth hovering just in front of his as he breathes the smoke out, brushing your lips together. You inhale it, hungry for anything he’s willing to give you, mewling as two fingers slip past your panties, sinking into your core slowly.

“This all for me?” He smirks, placing a chaste kiss on the corner of your lip, before kissing along your jaw as both of your arms wrap around him, your hips shifting to meet the gentle thrust of his fingers.

“Yes, Sir,” you moan, a little too loudly as his thumb circles your clit, and bury your face in his shoulder, “oh, fuck.”

“Tell me what you want, baby,” he picks up the pace, leaning back to watch your expressions. Your mouth falling open, your eyes rolling back as you groan. He smirks, eyes falling over the rest of your body, his cock twitches as the sight of you writhing on top of him. “Least I can do is give you that after makin’ you wait so goddamn long.”

“Fuck me,” it’s a whisper, a plea against his lips as you press your forehead to his.

He captures your lips in the first proper kiss that you share and it’s everything that he is; rough, fiery, and passionate. His lips vibrate against yours as he groans in anticipation, lifting the both of you off the bench enough to wriggle his pants down, his aching cock springing free.

You put your weight on your feet as he lines himself up with your entrance, panting impatiently in his ear while two fingers hook into your panties, pulling them aside. Steadying yourself on his shoulders, you let him guide your hips back on top of his, impaling yourself onto his thick cock.

He grunts, squeezing your ass with one hand as you roll your hips, biting your lip to suppress the strangled cry of pleasure in your throat. Another hand travels up your shirt, exploring your chest and pulling the front of your top up. He pulls the cup of your bra down, pinching your nipple between his fingers as his face settled between the valley of your breasts, littering them with kisses and kitten licks.

“Katsuki,” your head rolls back as you thrust your hips in tandem with him, moaning at the delirious amount of bliss you’ve found yourself drowning in.

Every part of you feels like it’s on fire. All thanks to the thrill of the moment, the heat of his hands on your body. The months of built-up sexual tension finally giving way to something even better than you’d fantasized.

“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful,” he’s breathless, kissing a trail between your breasts, beneath your chin, all the way to your lips as his hands seized your hips, “gonna look so pretty when you cream all over this cock. You’re close aren’t you, baby?”

He smirked as he tugged your bottom lip between his teeth, kissing you deeply when he relinquished it. His hand rested on your inner thigh, thumbing your clit. Your mouth dropped open, ushering moan and moan against the triumphant grin that he wore.

“Gonna cum, oh shit, I’m gonna cum,” you tucked yourself into the crook of his shoulder, biting down as you let go. Your walls spasmed around him, clenching tight enough to bid him to follow you off the cliff. He growled, his eyes falling shut as his feral noises met your breathless whines.

You kept your arms around him, one hand holding the back of his neck as you laid there against him, his arms encircling your waist. The pair of you sat there for a suspended moment, coming down from your highs together as your fingers continued exploring each other’s bodies. Gentle, soothing motions against overly sensitive skin in the afterglow of the act.

“How ya feelin’, sweetheart? Still frustrated?” You felt his lips curl into a proud smile as he kissed your cheek, making his way to your lips.

“Mm,” you kissed him slowly, resting your forehead against his as you both pulled away. “I might need another round, if you’re up for it.”

“You kiddin’ me?” He chuckled deviously, “Better prepare yourself, baby. I’m gonna ruin you if you let me take you home.” His hands trailed over your sides, dragging down your thighs as he squeezed, pulling a quiet groan from your lips as you smiled back.

“I think I can handle you,” you ran a hand down his chest, all the way down, letting your fingers ghost along his already semi-hard-again member, as you whispered with a smirk against his lips, “Dynamight.”

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hpimaginesandblurbs · 4 years ago

Note

can you do draco with a mommy kink please

mixed with this request: sub draco with a mommy kink pls

also mixed with this request: can i request a smut with sub!draco please? i feel like i don’t see enough of it but i feel like he’d definitely be a switch and not a complete dom like everyone thinks

pairing: draco malfoy x reader

warning(s): 18+, sub!draco, dom!reader, mommy kink, orgasm control / edging, oral (male receiving), unprotected sex

a/n: i am the biggest sub you will ever come across so writing dom!reader is a little harder for me but i still hope you enjoy!

Even from across the room, you could feel the stress pouring off of your boyfriend in waves. He’d been slaving over his homework for what felt like hours, and you were ready to fix that for him.

Pushing your own books aside, you left the spot you had been occupying on his bed and made your way over to his desk where he was sat, staring blankly at a page in his Arithmancy book.

“Draco, take a break,” you said lightly, draping your arms over his shoulders to force him to lean back in his chair.

“I need to finish this,” he said, a slight whine added to his voice, just proving how badly he did in fact need to take a break.

“I believe it’s due next week, am I correct?” You asked. You felt him nod slightly against your arm, but that wouldn’t do. “Use your words, baby.”

“Yes,” he replied quickly, a breathlessness in his voice that hadn’t been there signifying a change in the atmosphere around you both.

“Good. Then strip and get on the bed for me,” you purred in his ear and you could feel him shiver beneath your fingers.

He rose gracefully, seemingly unaffected by the thoughts of what you were about to do, but you knew better. You could see it in how quickly he stripped, the way he couldn’t quite seem to make eye contact with you as you openly watched him, the way his breathing began to quicken when he finally laid back on the sheets. But mostly, it was evident by just how hard he was, precum leaking out of his slit already.

You crawled up the bed with ease, already stripped down to your underwear, and dragged a finger up the shaft of his cock. When he shivered under your touch, you looked up at him through your lashes and smirked. “My baby’s needy tonight, hm?”

“Yeah,” he said breathlessly, his silver eyes never leaving where your hand was lazily stroking him.

“Yes, what?” You asked, only looking for one answer.

His eyes snapped up to yours and he turned a cute shade of pink, still slightly embarrassed by the term he so lovingly called you even after all this time.

“Yes, Mommy,” he replied obediently, his breathing only quickening.

“Good boy. Just lay there and let Mommy take care of you,” you told him, feeling his cock twitch in your hand at your words.

Without missing a beat, you engulfed him in your mouth all the way until his tip hit the back of your throat. Draco’s back arched when he felt the warmth from your mouth and he let out the prettiest little noise, but he never moved his hips - always striving to be your good boy.

You pulled out every stop you could think of, doing everything and anything you know would make his toes curl and get him to the edge as quickly as possible. He was writhing underneath you in no time, moans slipping out of his throat every time he felt you gag around him - something he loved a little too much.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum. Mommy, please,” he whined, so desperately you almost felt bad for what you were about to put him through.

You pulled away right as he was about to reach his peak and you watched him carefully as his face screwed up in desperation, a pitiful whimper coming from his throat.

You pulled your body up so you were hovering above him, placing small kisses around his face to soothe him and finally his eyelids fluttered open to look at you. You could have moaned at the sight of him. There was such a fierce desperation in his silver eyes that it tore through you and made your core ache for him, but that would have to wait.

“You’re being so good for me,” you mused, brushing his hair back from his face gently.

“If I’m being good then I’d get to cum,” he quipped back.

You raised an eyebrow in amusement at his behavior, his usual “good boy” persona that was reserved just for you now long gone after only one denied orgasm. Oh, this boy was spoiled.

“You sure you want to be a brat right now?” You asked, already trailing kisses back down his body just to torture him some more.

He never gave you an answer, but the frustration in his eyes was enough to show you he knew exactly where this was headed.

You repeated the same actions from earlier - deep throating his cock until he couldn’t stand it, moans pouring out of him like currency, and warning you of his imminent release in a high pitched, irresistibly whiny voice.

But just when you felt the beginnings of his cock twitching in your mouth, you forced yourself off of him - ruining his hopes at an orgasm for the second time.

“Please, Mommy. I’ll be good. Please, just let me cum,” Draco begged shamelessly, staring at you with such intent that you couldn’t help but give in to his pleas.

“I will, baby boy. I promise,” you told him, easily shushing him when your lips grazed his. “Wouldn’t it be so much better to cum inside of Mommy though?” You asked, your forehead resting against him.

“Fuck, yes,” he breathed out, forcing himself to take a deep breath to collect himself.

You sat up and let him watch as you stripped yourself of your bra and underwear, his hands clutching the sheets for dear life so he wouldn’t touch you. Your good boy knew better than to touch without permission.

“How do you want me, baby? You get to pick tonight,” you offered. And you could have sworn based on the look that crossed his face that he may have cum right then and there, but then he was answering you in a flash.

“I want to fuck you, please,” he begged, his look pleading.

“Of course, baby,” you replied, easily helping him in flipping the two of you over. “But you know my rule.”

“I don’t get to cum until you do, Mommy,” he recited as his hands roved over your body, finally getting to touch you.

But he didn’t waste time either. He was quickly fucking into you, already starting with a fast pace, his thrusts electrifying.

After the time you had spent watching him respond to your mouth, hands, and words, getting more and more turned on by the minute, he did not leave you wanting. Every moan that came out of your mouth was captured by his own, his lips unrelenting now that he was allowed to get a taste of you. His hands were near possessive over your body, not leaving a single inch of your body untouched.

When he fucked you like this, sometimes you wondered how you ended up as the dom in your relationship. But you could feel the needy energy pouring out of him, nothing if not eager to please you and only you. The look he had in his eyes that was so desperate for praise that you easily gave him, wanting to do nothing more than spoil him rotten with your words. And he ate up every fucking second of it.

“Just like that, baby. Fuck, I’m so close,” you managed to get out throught the assault he was committing on your lips, but he heard you loud and clear.

He easily slipped a hand in between your bodies, finding your clit in seconds and swirling his practiced fingers around the bud.

“Please cum, Mommy. Please,” he begged, trying desperately to balance himself on the edge until he could cum.

You only had to look at him once more to send yourself tumbling over the edge, your walls clenching around his cock like a vice. He followed shortly after, letting out a loud cry as he spilled inside of you, his orgasm wrecking through his body and making him shake.

You pulled him down close to you in the midst of it, letting his shaken form rest against you for as long as he needed. Finally, his breathing evened out and he rolled off of you, looking absolutely blissed out and fucked out of his mind.

And you knew nobody knew Draco quite like you did. And when you told him to take a break, you knew it would be well worth it just to see that look on his face.

#harry potter #draco malfoy #draco malfoy smut #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy headcanon #draco malfoy blurb

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honeymoonjin · 4 years ago

Text

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ot7 x reader || ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 7.1k || ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: smut - rated 18+

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ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: both non-sexual and sexual pet play, dom!jimin, sub!jk, sub!tae, handjob, yoongi and yn pretending like they don't wanna suck the souls out of each other, exhibitionism, voyeurism, mutual masturbation

A/N: welcome back to my best boys ;;;;-; this chapter is being cross-posted from ao3. in the future i'll try and upload in both places at the same time!

DAY TWENTY-THREE

It’s two blocks of pure ice that wake Taehyung up that Tuesday morning. Before he’s even really coherent, he’s hissing and tucking into a ball away from the cold.

“Puppy, shh, it’s just me.”

Even as those chilled items that Tae can tentatively identify as feet tuck between his bare legs, he goes lax and accepts the body that wraps around his curled back. “Minnie,” he mumbles, and it’s so quiet that the older boy probably doesn’t hear, but his grip tightens anyway. “‘What time ‘s it?”

“Early, I’m sorry.” Jimin’s voice, unlike his thawing toes, blows warm across the back of Taehyung’s neck. “Missed you.”

A sleepy smile of bliss crosses Taehyung’s face for exactly three seconds, at which point he recalls the fact that he didn’t go to sleep alone tonight. Shooting up so quickly that his shoulder catches Jimin’s chin, Taehyung peels his eyes open to see Jungkook, awkwardly hugging a pillow to his chest with his legs crossed.

He bites his lip, avoiding their gazes. “Sorry, I, uh, don’t mean to disturb.”

“Shoot.” Jimin rubs his face blearily. “I didn’t see you there, Jungkookie. I should go-”

“No, no, stay,” Taehyung begs hurriedly, launching himself back onto the mattress and wiggling himself back into the curve of Jimin’s front. “Jungkook, um, you can come cuddle too if you want. I like being middle spoon.”

The youngest gazes back and forth at them, never resting long enough for eye contact. His indecision is palpable, but there’s a pleased glimmer too. “Is that...okay with Jimin-hyung? I don’t wanna intrude.”

Jimin’s voice is soft, his eyes slipping closed as he eases his face into the crook of Taehyung’s neck, arms snaking around his torso. “You can be a part of us too, Jungkookie.”

The words are perhaps more intimate than Jimin even realises, and in the vulnerable setting of a bed in the early morning hours, Jungkook’s hard swallow is audible, before he slowly puts the pillow aside and tucks his feet under the covers, slipping down. It’s not until Taehyung’s arm is his headrest and the other one provides a comforting weight low on his hips that he speaks up again. “Do you… do you mean that just for now, or… Or for good?”

“What do you think, Minnie?” Taehyung’s fingertips trace lazily over the bare skin that’s exposed by Jungkook’s shirt riding up. “Can we keep him?”

Jimin hums in affirmation. He’s just about asleep again, but Taehyung can feel his pleased smile against his shoulder. “Of course we can, puppy.”

The repeated nickname causes Taehyung’s heart to twitch just as his dick does. It’s no less endearing and special, but Jungkook is still perfectly awake and right there, and it feels a little confronting.

But Jungkook just chuckles, twisting around in Taehyung’s slack embrace to face him, eyes bright. “If you’re a puppy, what am I?”

Taehyung’s careful not to jostle Jimin. He’s begun snoring, nothing more audible than regular snuffling, but still Tae doesn’t want to disturb that rest. “What do you mean, Jungkookie?”

He scrunches his nose, thinking away. “Well, there’s Minnie and there’s puppy. I want a cute nickname too if I’m gonna be - you know - with you guys.”

“Jungkook,” Taehyung begins haltingly, “Jimin calls me puppy because… God, it feels silly saying it out loud. He calls me puppy because sometimes when we’re together I go into puppyspace. You know; like petplay.”

“That’s not silly,” Jungkook says reflexively, even as his eyes widen and lips part. “What’s it like?”

“Puppyspace?” Taehyung asks. Jungkook nods eagerly, and the motion is transferred through Tae where they connect, making Jimin grunt and bury his nose deeper into the crook of his neck. “It’s so peaceful, Jungkookie. He takes care of me so I don’t have to think. I can nap and cuddle and play, without all of the stresses of life. It feels all warm and cosy, you know? I love it.”

Jungkook’s eyes sparkle in wonder, his fingers finding their way to Taehyung’s worn black sleepshirt, fiddling with the hem. “Can I try? How do you… how do you know if you can do it?”

Behind Taehyung, Jimin lets out a half-asleep groan, his nose pressing against the taller one’s back. “Of course you can try. Let’s just sleep for now, though? I’m sure Minnie can play with both of us later.”

It’s that promise that allows Jungkook to settle, nodding with a tentative hum and shifting down so that his head can rest in the crook of Taehyung’s neck. Taehyung falls back under like this, with a heartbeat thrumming against his back and soft, even breaths tickling his bared shoulder.

“Hobi?”

Hoseok pauses, frothed toothbrush clamped between his teeth. “Mmng?”

“I don’t-” you cut yourself off, clearing your throat to dislodge the thickness that distorts your voice. “Can we not tell them?”

He bends over to quickly spit out the majority of toothpaste, but when he stands upright to face you again there’s a smear on his chin. “Tell them what?”

You blink. “Last night. I just… I don’t want them to- to pity me or treat me like I’m glass or anything. I know it won’t happen again, it was just…” Shrugging hopelessly, you give up on trying to put words to it. “I don’t know.”

The dom remains silent for a few moments, lips pursed in thought. “The chicken must have been bad,” he concludes.

Bewildered, you cock your head to the side. “Huh? What chicken?”

“You and I went out for dinner at this fried chicken place, but when you got home last night it made you sick. That’s why you aren’t quite yourself today. I’ll get Yoongi-hyung to make some hangover soup.” His eyes are warm, pulling you into a comforting one-armed hug. “Just the chicken, that’s all. Yeah?”

You swallow down the swell of gratitude and instead bury yourself into his safe embrace. “Yeah. That’s all.”

To his credit, Yoongi doesn’t ask questions, pushing all his concern into his cooking. The doctor all but feeds you himself, hovering with a furrowed brow and a napkin. Strangely enough, his fussing goes a long way in cheering you up, and you let the events of yesterday wash away with the salty broth.

Hoseok hangs around for a while before going down to do some laundry, Namjoon briefly jumps in to steal a spoonful directly from the pan, eyes never leaving the novel he’s holding open with a single hand. Even Jungkook stumbles in blearily at one point, nose first, requesting an extra two bowls for Jimin and Taehyung as well.

You’re onto your second serving by the time it’s just Yoongi and you. He’s pulled up a chair beside you, cradling a coffee. “I got a text this morning, you know,” he begins gently. “I can ignore it if you’re not up to it.”

It takes you a moment to process his words, recalling Sejin’s instructions the day prior. “It’s your day, then?” He nods silently, scanning you for any reaction. You hum, spoon swirling lazily in the dregs of your breakfast. “I’m up to it,” you answer finally, “if you are.”

“Always,” Yoongi replies immediately, voice bared and soft. His hand passes over yours, squeezing briefly, before he stands up and clears the bowls from the table. “Aspirin is in the pantry if you need it, blue container.”

You give him your thanks, left alone as he disappears upstairs.

Grabbing a glass and pouring yourself some water, you track down the aspirin and take out two tablets, grimacing as the bitterness sticks to your tongue. While you may not actually be sick, a headache was beginning to bloom between your brows.

So much had happened in the past few days, you almost felt like you’d gotten whiplash. The early days of lounging around the house and chasing pleasure seemed so distant. Feelings tangled things up more each day, unraveling quicker than you can get a hold on them.

It wasn’t just you, either. You saw the way the guys looked at each other, how gentle they were, how thoughtful. It was in the little things. Jungkook’s laundry pile started featuring clothes from the other maknaes; Namjoon and Hoseok always sat so close together, even when there was room on the couch; Yoongi had started giving the others bigger portions when he cooked, even as his stayed the same. And Jin…

You startle when a door opens, glass almost slipping from your hands. It’s the unfilmed room across the stairs. You frown as a tall figure slips out, swamped in a massive pink hoodie that you’d never seen in the house before. A sleeve-covered hand reaches up to rub under the hood, dark hair poking out. Your breath catches. Jin…

He moves across the hall gingerly like his body aches, hand never leaving his face as he grumbles sleepily. For a split second, your mind entertains the thought of sprinting past before he sees you, avoiding the conflict that is no doubt upon you.

But only for a split second. Because the only thing worse than being confronted by him is not seeing him at all. You wait, instead, until he rolls his shoulders back, tipping his face to the ceiling to stretch out his spine. The hood falls back, exposing a serious case of bedhead, tired eyes, and sallow skin. But it’s Jin nonetheless, beautiful despite his apparent exhaustion, and your heart breaks again for being the one to cause this.

He notices you when his head comes back down from the stretch, and were you not in such despair you may have cracked a smile at the way he jumps. “Y/n…” he mumbles, voice barely audible.

Your mouth goes dry. Even if it wasn’t you don’t know what to say, simply bracing yourself for anger.

He doesn’t stiffen his features, however, simply watching you with melancholy eyes. “You look sad,” he says weakly.

Your heart is racing a hundred beats a second at just hearing him speak to you, and it takes you that much time just to process his words, eyes pricking sharply. “I am sad,” you reply honestly, blinking the wetness away. “You look tired,” you whisper in return.

His bottom lip trembles, before flattening tightly. Instead of responding verbally, he just nods.

The two of you sit in that silence for a while. Jin’s breathing is ragged, his eyes unfocused as they slip past you. You think you might be sick with the way your stomach flips.

Finally, you can’t stand the silence. “Are you still mad at-” you begin, but your words die in your throat as you’re enveloped tightly by him, clutching you so close that your chest constricts. The tensed breath you didn’t know you were holding rushes out of you with a sob, and your arms fly up to hug him back, just as tightly.

There’s nothing more than just a simple hug, but your heart is still full, almost overwhelmed by the cathartic relief of having him close to you again, his chin resting on the crown of your head, his hands rubbing circles on your back, the gentle sway as he rocks you in the hold.

It lasts for an eternity too short, and when he pulls away you feel untethered, already pining for that contact again.

His eyes are swimming, though you see the way he tightens his jaw to hold it back. “I’m devastated,” he admits, “but I miss you too much to ice you out like this. I need time but god, I don’t want space. Can you give me time?”

You’re nodding hastily, sniffing as your nose threatens to run. “Of course, Jin. I’ll be here. I… I think I-”

“Don’t-” he interrupts sharply, sucking in a shaky breath. “Don’t let now be the first time we say it. Later,” he promises.

We. Your skin breaks out in goosebumps, electricity thrumming along your nerves. You let that word settle you, repeating it in your head as Jin sends you a sad smile - but a smile nonetheless - and takes his leave, disappearing upstairs.

You decide to take a bath, in the end, letting yourself soak in the thought of “we” a little longer.

“So, what, we start barking? Chew on some sticks?”

Taehyung colours violently and Jimin sends Jungkook a sharp glare in rebuke. “Say less,” he scolds the youngest, before reaching up to run his fingers through Taehyung’s hair, breaking up the curls. “We just ease into it. Taehyung doesn’t use it for humiliation or anything like that, he just likes being taken care of. Isn’t that right, pup?”

Taehyung hums, eyes already fluttering as he leans his head into Jimin’s palm. The three of them had migrated onto Taehyung’s now-made bed after their breakfast after Jungkook once again mentioned wanting to try petplay.

Significantly larger than Jimin, Taehyung has to awkwardly shuffle down the mattress further to rest his head in Jimin’s lap, but Jungkook can immediately see the lines of stress that melt away once he does so. Jimin smooths his hand down to cup the younger’s chin, delicately stroking the soft flesh as if he were patting a sleepy dog.

“You’ll just watch for now,” Jimin instructs Jungkook without removing his gaze from Taehyung, “and if it feels right, you can join in. There are no expectations and no rules, only to respect the process and don’t disrupt Tae’s petspace. Got it?”

Jungkook swallows as Jimin chooses that point to lift his steeled gaze, brows high as he waits for Jungkook to agree. “Got it,” the youngest confirms. He gets comfy, tucking his feet under him and leaning up against the pillows.

“Such a lucky boy,” the dom begins with his voice like melted sugar. “Dogs aren’t meant to be up on the furniture. But you’ve been good lately, so I thought I’d treat you.”

Taehyung’s eyes flutter closed. He shuffles slightly, stretching one leg out until his ankle dangles off the edge of the mattress, but doesn’t audibly respond.

Jimin chuckles fondly through his nose, hand running down to rub up and down Taehyung’s clothed tummy, which is now facing upwards. “Oh, pup,” he coos, “you must be tired after the big walk. How about we rest for a bit, and we can play later?” Instead of waiting for a response, the dom just gasps like he’s forgotten something important. “Oh! Your collar! I must’ve taken it off when I took off the leash. Never mind; Jungkook, dear, could you get me the brush and collar out of the bedside table? Bottom drawer.”

It feels like the very particles in the air shift when Jungkook is ripped away from the observer role and into an active participant. He swallows away the dryness in his throat to little avail and nods, fumbling with the drawer handle and pulling out a barely-used hairbrush and velvet dog collar. “These?” he asks redundantly, nerves settling when Jimin gives him a pleased smile and holds out his hand.

“Alright, little puppy,” Jimin announces, his voice lilting easily back into the candyfloss tone that all owners used with their pets. “Let’s give you a brush before we put your collar back on. I don’t want your coat getting matted.”

Taehyung gives a small, throaty hum and lifts himself laboriously up onto his elbows, tipping his head up to his master. Jimin pats his cheek warmly and calls him a good boy, and Jungkook gets a front row seat to the beautiful sight of a sleepy, lusty Kim Taehyung going pink in the face, a shy smile twitching his lip.

‘Brushing his coat’ is just brushing his hair, but even Jungkook can see that the technique is slightly different. Jimin does it slowly, methodically, line by line from the front to the back, then reaching around to the nape of his neck to give it a good brushing there - Taehyung all but shivers at each swoop of the brush - even folding down each ear when he goes past. Watching it is nothing short of mesmerising, and Jungkook feels his spine tingle, wanting to feel it too.

Was it too soon to join? He could always ask for the brush later, he decided. Though even as he reached that conclusion, the thought was slipping out of his mind sand through fingers, hazier and hazier the more he listened to Jimin’s lull tone and watched his patient movements.

“There we go,” the dom whispers, passing the brush over one last time to settle all the curls in their rightful place, “much better now. Chin up, pup; time for your collar.”

Taehyung’s chin lifts the minutest of degrees. Jimin waits for a moment, but the brown-haired boy looks almost like he’s falling asleep on the spot, swaying slightly as his elbows prop him up.

“Silly me,” Jimin tuts with a smile, reaching out to manually adjust Taehyung how he wants him. “Doggies can’t understand human words, can they?” Like a proud parent, he turns to Jungkook, grin widening as he sees the state the boy is in. “I am trying to teach Tae-tae some commands. Sit, lie down, wait. Suck. He’s getting better.”

With that, the dom grabs the collar off the duvet and fiddles with the buckle, undoing it so that he can wrap it carefully around Taehyung’s neck. The process reminds Jungkook much of what happened when his parents put a collar on his childhood dog: slipping a finger under the material to test how snug it was, shifting it around until the small dangling pendant was to the front, giving it a little tug to ensure the buckle was on right.

At the gentle tug, Taehyung practically topples, going lax with his face down on Jimin’s thigh and snuggling down, breaths even. Jimin doesn’t comment on it, simply humming in acknowledgement and returning to softly stroking his back and shoulders. But he does glance over to Jungkook again, eyes glinting. “Do you wanna come a little closer, hm?”

At the invitation, Jungkook almost trips himself scooting over, wrapping his arms around one of Jimin’s and holding it to his chest. Seeing the tender moment shared between Taehyung and Jimin had made him feel positively touch-starved, desperate to feel some of that sweet attention.

Jimin’s eyes widen in bemusement before twisting his hand in Jungkook’s grip and giving his stomach a little scratch. “Goodness me, little energizer bunny, huh?”

Jungkook whines, recognising that higher-pitched voice. He was being talked to like a pet, and the thought made his insides hot. He presses his face against Jimin’s shoulder, feeling the heat on his skin there too.

“No need to get all shy on me now, bun,” Jimin teases. “I’ve already seen that little friend in your pants. Well, I suppose he’s not that little.”

Jungkook tightens his arms around Jimin’s one, wanting to rock his hips up to feel some friction. He just squirms instead, hoping his need is answered. “Jimin-hyung.”

Jimin sucks in a breath. “Can this bunny speak, hm?”

Jungkook blinks, the furnace inside him cooling for a moment. “Am I not… supposed to?”

“I’m not telling you off, I’m asking,” Jimin explains softly, cocking his head down at the potentially-sleeping Taehyung in his lap. “Tae-tae likes to be non-verbal. It’s just preference. Would you rather keep speaking?”

After a moment of thought, Jungkook nods, then props his chin up, sending Jimin his best puppy eyes. “Minnie, I need you,” he pleads in a small voice, writhing against him again.

Jungkook’s fingers curl when Jimin’s hand dips lower suddenly, grasping his length from over the fabric of his sleep shorts. The pleasure is like a bolt that shocks his whole body, and when Jimin strokes him once, the texture of the fabric increasing the friction, the guttural sound that falls from his lips is more animal than human.

Jimin just smiles placidly, patting the throbbing heat once. “Does it hurt, bun? Want me to make it go away?”

“Y-yeah.” Jungkook’s breath is shallow with excitement. This feels like new territory, relying fully on Jimin to relieve the ache, too helpless, too stupid to do anything about it himself, just a dumb bunny with a generous owner.

“You’re drooling, bun,” Jimin points out, voice raspy with arousal. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”

Jungkook feels fingers at the elastic band of his shorts before Jimin withdraws. He whines, a pout threatening to form, but the dom just runs his fingers and palm over Jungkook’s mouth and chin. Then, when his hand delves in and grips Jungkook, he’s slick with Jungkook’s own drool, the slide wet and hot and electric.

He moans, but saliva won’t stop gathering in the hollows of his mouth. It’s like it’s impossible to close it at all, every firm, purposeful stroke making it harder to do that basic function.

“Noisy boy,” Jimin scolds, though there’s no venom to his tone. “You might wake the puppy up, bun.”

With a strangled groan, Jungkook’s head flops down, his teeth banging against Jimin’s shoulder. A thought floats across his dazed mind, of pressing his teeth into skin, lovebites to colour the bronze.

But his teeth don’t sink into flesh. Fabric fills his mouth. Jimin’s shirt. His teeth don’t stop, though. On the contrary, he chews on the cotton, letting it muffle the sounds he can’t help but make.

“Oh, good boy,” Jimin praises warmly, his hand speeding up mercilessly to pitch Jungkook over the edge. There’s no foreplay, no kisses or teasing touches. His hard cock is a problem that his master is kind enough to solve, that Minnie-hyung is making go away, and he won’t stop until his bunny has finally-

When Jungkook comes, his whole body feels it like an earthquake. Every muscle jerks, pulses so that his toes curl and his core trembles, the drool soaking the fabric of Jimin’s shirt now until he feels it run down his own neck, blubbering through the waves of it.

Jimin slows down after the first burst of cum, but doesn’t stop, only tightening his grip like he’s milking every last drop out.

Once the tides of pleasure have dipped back down again, Jungkook goes boneless, whimpering until the hand finally leaves his softening, oversensitive cock.

He’s panting, all of his body weight on Jimin to stay upright, and it takes a few moments for his senses to properly return to him, his heart still beating erratically in his chest. “Oh, fuck.”

Jimin giggles elfishly, before reaching up to tap on Jungkook’s bottom lip with wet fingers. “You made such a mess, little bunny. Clean it up, now.”

Jungkook welcomes the digits, blinking blearily as the bitter tang of his own cum fills his mouth. He sucks Jimin’s fingers clean two at a time, swirling his tongue between them dutifully. It isn’t until he’s done and Jimin is praising him that he restores enough energy to sit up again.

Across from him, Jimin peels the soaking wet sleeve of his shirt off his shoulder, laughing softly in good humour even as his brows furrow at the weird feeling. Before Jungkook can offer up an apology, Jimin is stripping it off entirely, chucking it away and rubbing at his now-bared chest. “Much better,” he muses to himself. After a moment of letting Jungkook clear his head, Jimin turns to him, his dry hand returning to lazily card through Taehyung’s curls. “How was it, Jungkook?”

“Uh,” Jungkook replies eloquently, feeling the way his cock still throbs every few seconds in aftershocks. “Uh.”

“That’s what I thought,” Jimin states proudly, before sending Jungkook a serious gaze. “We’ll talk later, yeah? When your dick isn’t hanging out.”

Jungkook flushes, scrambles to tuck himself away, and the movement jostles the bed enough that Taehyung groans, craning his neck up with bleary eyes and rumpled hair.

The two sitting on the bed go silent. Jimin cocks his head to the side and cups Taehyung’s cheek. “Were you- Tae-tae, did you just have a nap in the middle of the scene?”

Taehyung beams sleepily, eyes still lidded. “Mm.”

“Tae! Are you out of petspace now?”

“Think so.” With a dramatically loud cry, Taehyung reaches an arm up into a deep, arching stretch, rubbing at his eyes once he’s done. “Mm, yeah, definitely. My foot has kinda gone dead too.”

As Taehyung sits up to rub at his foot, pressing his thumbs into the muscle, Jimin’s shoulders sink with a deep pout. “Tae-tae,” he whines again, “you know I like playing with puppy.”

“Sorry,” Taehyung replies easily, though it doesn’t sound like he is in the slightest, “I guess I just wanted to destress more than anything. I didn’t sleep so well last night.”

Jimin’s face softens, his complaints dissolved at Taehyung’s words. Without a verbal reply, he just reaches out, hooks his finger on the neckline of Taehyung’s shirt, and pulls him in for a kiss, humming into it slightly.

The movements, the touches are so natural and intimate that Jungkook feels like he’s intruding. It only lasts a moment before they break apart to go shower, but it’s enough time to sear the sight behind Jungkook’s eyelids. Maybe he’d been allowed to join them in their scenes, even cuddle with them, but he wasn’t a part of that bond that tied Jimin and Taehyung so strongly together. The thought sinks in his stomach, and he decides to skip the shower, getting dressed instead for a long workout downstairs.

When you knock on his door, Yoongi is at his desk, a pair of black-framed reading glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. He glances up, an eyebrow lifting in mild surprise.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?”

You muffle a smile at his domestic getup - a grey t-shirt hangs off, far too big for him but outlining his chest and strong shoulders nonetheless, and his long black sweatpants all but cover his bare feet, toes tapping the carpet unconsciously as he waits for your reply. “I’ve been informed that today is your day.”

“Ah, checking in to the Fuck Hotel, I see,” he quips casually, slipping his glasses of and shutting the lid of the laptop he was working on. “We do have one vacancy.”

“Is that so?” you say, unable to stop your grin as he stands up from his office chair and rolls his head back like an athlete warming up.

“Comes with a continental breakfast,” he assures, before ducking his head with a sheepish chuckle. “God, hyung is becoming a bad influence on my sense of humour.” With slightly pink cheeks, he stretches out a hand towards you, before jerking it back and freezing, fingers curled and tensed. “Wait. Shit.”

You frown, glancing down at yourself, but nothing seems out of the ordinary. “What is it?”

“Hm. I just remembered my prompt, is all.” He takes a step back with a thoughtful furrow of his brows, clenching his hands into fists and putting them behind himself. “Dammit, I was meant to think of a game plan but I got distracted sorting out- uh- client emails.”

“Was this a bad time?” you ask with a light laugh, even as you cast a guilty glance towards the laptop. A month in and he was still doing work?

“No! No, it’s fine, it’s just…” Wincing, Yoongi scratches at the back of his neck and takes another step back, gesturing down at himself, and at the messy work desk. “I’m not in sexy mode yet. I look like a stay-at-home dad trying to work out how to order groceries online while my toddler is finally having her 2pm nap.”

You pause before an incredulous laugh bubbles out of your throat. “Okay, first of all, I think stay-at-home dads are very sexy, and I happen to think that you are very sexy. Secondly, ‘her?’ Why was that whole analogy so specific?”

Yoongi huffs defensively, petulantly throwing himself down to sit on the bed with his legs splayed wide. “I used to have a life plan, okay? But that’s not relevant now. The point is, I haven’t worked out how to do a good scene. I don’t want to it to be disappointing. Or, god forbid, boring.”

Your frown just deepens. “It doesn’t need to be an elaborate setup, Yoongi. Just fuck me. Touch me, at least. I can’t believe we’re still both wearing all our clothes when I’ve been very explicit about my intentions.”

You don’t miss the wince that flutters across his face. “That’s kinda the issue. Touching you, I mean.”

“You don’t wanna touch me?”

“I-” Yoongi all but stomps his foot, teeth clenching in frustration. “Of course I fucking want to, but I have to stick to my prompt, Y/n.”

Your mouth drops open. “So your prompt is that we can’t even touch each other? Doesn’t exactly sound very appealing for a porn show.”

He clicks his tongue. “You can still touch me,” he corrects with a dry gaze.

Unconvinced, you narrow your eyes. “Isn’t that convenient?” you question rhetorically. “Gonna make me do all the work this week because you haven’t organised it in your planner yet, Doctor Min?”

He glares at your teasing tone. “Excuse me for trying to play the game properly.” You swallow as his eyes run down your body heavily, pink tongue darting out to wet his lips. “If I could touch you, trust me, I’d have you dripping by now.”

Your thighs tighten, but you force them not to move. The last thing you want him to know is that you’re just about dripping already. “Sounds to me like you’re just lazy.” He doesn’t react, watching you make up your mind. You suck in a breath to hype yourself. “If I walk away right now, you’ll get nothing. Not only will you lose your prompt, but you’ll be stuck with blue balls. But if you give in and fuck me already, then you’ll only lose the prompt.”

“Who says I’ll even have blue balls? I’m perfectly comfortable,” he fires back immediately, tipping his head to the side cockily.

“Oh, please,” you drawl, letting your eyes fall to the sizeable bulge beneath his sweatpants, “you aren’t that big soft. Don’t kid yourself. So do you wanna get off, or not?”

His gaze hardens to stone, jaw flexing. “I’m surprised you think I need you for that. Aside from the fact that there are six other people in this house, I brought a fleshlight from home for a reason.”

Now that is something you hadn’t expected him to say. You freeze from your spot in the doorway, feeling heat pulse between your legs. Your spark of resistance is quickly fading, overtaken by need, so you don’t hesitate in firing back while you can. “If you think your fleshlight is better than me, then that’s your loss. Enjoy the bunkbeds; I’m off to do what you’re too cowardly to.”

“Have fun, sweetheart,” he snips, one of his hands sneaking under his shirt to rub his lower abdomen, fingers slipping below the hem of his sweats. “Shut the door on your way out.”

Feeling like you’ve lost the argument (and a little too horny to care) you have your final say by slamming it, thumping your feet with every step down the hall to your room.

Once inside, it takes mere seconds to throw yourself onto your bed back-first and shove your hand down your pants. But then, before you even dip into your wetness, a thought strikes you.

Pulling your hand out and making your way to your desk, you use your other hand to clumsily type in your password, and open a browser. It doesn’t take long to navigate to the page with all the paid streams for your own show, and with a slight flush you select Yoongi’s bedroom, impatiently punching in your credit card details.

After an agonising wait, the payment is processed and you’re brought to a private livestreaming site, a single window open in front of you.

The angle itself is strange, making Yoongi’s room look larger than it was, but you’re surprised at just how high quality the video and sound is once you bring it to full screen and slip your headphones in your ears. Yoongi is hunched over his nightstand, and you can actually hear the wooden slide faintly in the background as he opens and closes a drawer, returning to his office chair with a seemingly-transparent fleshlight and a bottle of lube.

Something about watching him through a camera in the corner of his room feels so wrong, especially as he palms impatiently at the tent in his pants, uncapping the lube and pouring a generous amount into the opening of the toy. You’d never been much of a voyeur - or, at least, so you thought - but you couldn’t take your eyes off him, blinding slipping your hands down your pants but over your underwear, simply pressing down on your clit to ease some of the crying need.

Oddly, the lube pours down and begins to drip out the other side, creating a dark patch on his clothed thigh. The audio picks up Yoongi cursing, and there’s no further preamble before he’s using one hand to hook down his sweatpants and kick them off to pool on the floor. The motion causes his cock to jerk up onto his stomach, leaving a smear of precum on his grey shirt, visible only by a few pixels of darker grey.

He scoots a little down the seat of the chair and hitches a leg up over one of the arms, eyes slipping closed as the hand not holding the dripping fleshlight grips his own cock, thumb pressing at the head.

“Oh, fuck,” he groans lowly, the sound running through your headphones and straight down between your legs. His brows are furrowed like it’s almost paining him, but he hovers the opening of the fleshlight over his tip as if he’s trying to hold back.

Slowly, he lowers the toy down one inch at a time, until the lube is drooling over his cock. Finally, the transparent toy slips down over his cock and his hips jump off the chair, his knuckles white on the arm of the chair and the fleshlight as he growls and lifts it back off again.

The sight of him intentionally teasing himself is too erotic for you to stay unmoving, and you find yourself burning up, losing the headphones for a moment to shuffle out of your own clothes. You hurry as much as you can, grimacing at your sopping panties, but by the time you’re back in your chair with nothing but a bra and tuning back into the stream, Yoongi’s not even focused on his toy anymore.

It sits propped up on his thigh, with two of his fingers lazily, almost absentmindedly thrusting deeply inside of it to keep it steady as the rest of him swivels in his chair to open his laptop again.

You frown and squint at the tiny screen on the stream. Rows of fuzzy squares stack up, and while you can’t be certain the phallic shapes of some of the miniscule images inside them make you think he was on a sex toy website.

He quickly opens a new tab, however, and your heart begins to beat nervously as a familiar page comes up. One you’d been on just earlier.

With bated breath you wait, hands grasping at the meat of your thighs and clothed breast to hold off on touching between your legs just yet. Yoongi navigates the Bangasm page, going through the same payment process you did.

It isn’t until you’re met with a miniature version of your own room on his screen that you realise what’s happened. And it’s when Yoongi squints and leans in closer, before turning to face the camera directly with a bewildered look, that you know you’ve been caught.

Frozen, you watch the on-screen, Yoongi look back and forth twice, before slowly scooting his chair back on an angle to the table, so that the laptop is in eyeshot even as his body is facing the camera fully.

Your mouth is dry, but the fleshlight he picks up again is wet, so wet that his fingers glisten, almost slipping off the toy entirely. He holds it tightly, transferring it to his dominant hand and teasing the top over his tip, biting hard on his lip.

The squeeze you have on your thigh is almost painful as your core burns, but you’re too stunned still to move, watching him dance the opening of the fleshlight over his cock, never dipping it inside.

With a twitching grin and lusty eyes, he glances towards the laptop. Your whole body feels hot as you glance over your shoulder to the camera in your room, before looking back at the screen. He’s not moving, chest visibly heaving even as he stares patiently at the computer screen.

He’s… waiting for you.

With one strangled breath, you tilt your chair away from the desk, adjusting your own laptop in a similar setup to him. Eyes locked on the stream, terrified you’ll miss a single moment of him indulging himself, you let your fingers uncurl from your inner thigh and trail them down, wasting no time in automatically locating your clit, massaging around the small bud.

Pleasure flows through you like hot water, down to your toes. After holding out for so long, after being so aroused for so long, the simplest touch has your knees weak and your head lolled back against the headrest.

On screen, Yoongi’s grin widens, and he rewards you by lowering the fleshlight, the clear silicone making way for the tip of his cock. He doesn’t stop there like last time, though; instead, he slowly but surely plunges it all the way down until it’s flush with his pelvis. Your eyes fly open when the flushed head pops out the other side, and Yoongi clearly enjoys it too judging by the way he curses and grips it tight, practically panting.

Without really intending, your fingers dip down and slip inside, two already. You barely feel a stretch with how wet you are. Although the feeling of something inside you is nice, you know your fingers just aren’t enough, especially with the angle of you slumped back in your chair.

So, you chance one look back at the screen - Yoongi is using the tip of one finger to spread his precum around the glossed tip of his cock, but his eyes are firmly locked onto you - and walk on shaky legs to your closet, where an unassuming (and so far unused) black silk bag lies amongst your shoes.

The amount of time it takes for you to duck into the bathroom and quickly wash the silicone vibrator you have with soapy water feels like an eternity, and by the time you hurry back it isn’t the toy that’s vibrating.

Frowning, you hesitantly answer the call that’s coming through on your phone from a familiar contact.

Yoongi’s voice immediately fills the room as the pixelated version on the screen rests his phone on the side of his desk, not jerking but twisting the fleshlight in slow arcs around his cock. “Couldn’t get enough of me, hm?”

“Says the one calling me,” you offer back lightly, switching onto speaker mode so that you can settle back in your chair, “enjoying the view?”

“A little too uneventful for me yet, sweetheart,” he teases, and his breathy groan is timed with the Yoongi on the stream lifting the fleshlight up a little and plunging it down again. “How about you put that toy in your pretty little pussy for me. For us.”

You feel your core pulse at the reminder that it wasn’t just Yoongi on the stream. Any number of anonymous strangers could be tuned in right now, seeing you with your legs spread.

The only way to cope is to lean into it instead of shying away. You slide the black silicone toy through your folds to slick it up, sighing with every light pass over your clit. Once it’s as wet as you are, you press the slightly bulbous tip down until it slips inside you, immediately shivering at the feeling.

The toy is small enough that you don’t need any special prep, yet big enough that it was satisfying, and curved just right. It had been your old reliable long before coming on the show, and there’s something strangely familiar and comforting about feeling it fill you out as you push it in deeper.

“Fuck, there we go,” Yoongi praises, and you hear the wet smacking noise of him snapping his hips up into the toy. “I may not be able to touch you, but you’ll still call my name when you cum for me.”

Your toes curl, and you’re no longer able to focus on the stream, letting your eyes fall shut and your ears tune in to his voice alone as you work the toy in and out of you.

He doesn’t waste any time in joining you, and the resulting sounds that fill your room are obscene, him making no effort to muffle the gravelled curses and moans, nor the wet thwack of silicone that gives away his movements.

The noise is somehow even more thrilling than the sight, and the feeling of his eyes on you encourages you to speed your hand up, even reaching down to desperately rub at your clit with the flat of your fingers, shivering at the wave of pleasure that wracks through your body.

It’s not long before you hear Yoongi’s voice turn guttural and the pace of the flesh light pick up frantically.

You wrench your eyes open and gaze blearily at the computer screen just in time to watch the stream of white that spills up through the back end of the fleshlight and over Yoongi’s knuckles. As hot as the image is, you whine at being made to watch this through the pixels instead of in real life, and the thought of being right fucking across from him as he fell apart is enough to make you seize up in your chair, orgasm draining you thoroughly, with not enough force to squirt but dripping on the seat nonetheless.

You take the toy out once pleasure turns to the sharp tweak of oversensitivity and pant, fighting to catch your breath as your feet feel positively numb.

Coming down from your high, you almost forget the running phone call until you hear his voice come through the speaker again. “Have a shower and then come back down to my room. You’re sleeping with me tonight.”

The beeping tone leaves you alone in your room, and you loll your head back over the edge of the chair with an exhausted moan, not without a grin playing on your lips. You wouldn’t protest to that.

#the gentlemen #tgm #bts fanfic #bts x reader #yoongi x reader #yoongi smut #vminkook smut #vmin smut #jikook smut #taekook smut #i don't even know how to tag anymore fksdfjsk

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fruitcoops · 3 years ago

Note

could you possibly write something about Sirius & remus dating and remus feeling bad that Sirius keeps paying (since obviously he's big deal NHLer v trainer)

Oof, yes. This was combined with asks for some Coops hurt/comfort where one doesn't want to talk, as well as an argument. SW credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for wealth insecurity, small argument (not a blowout)

Grocery shopping had never been Remus’ favorite thing in the world, but he had to admit it was a lot more fun when everything came with the thrilling reminder that he was living with the love of his life. He got to learn Sirius’ preferences on everything from candles (softer scents, or something woodsy) to towels (as fluffy as humanly possible) and filed every detail away in the little pocket of his brain entirely dedicated to the beautiful man that could reach the top shelves.

“What’s next?” he asked an hour into their latest Target excursion.

Sirius tilted his phone to show the screen. “Sheets.”

“I still can’t believe you had a hole in those and didn’t notice,” Remus said with a shake of his head.

“How do you know it wasn’t your fault?” Sirius countered with a playful quirk of his eyebrow.

“I’m not the one that runs marathons in my sleep,” Remus laughed, standing on his toes to kiss his stubbly cheek. “Oof. Prickly.”

Sirius scrunched his nose. “You like it.”

“Hmm. Perhaps.”

“Perhaps,” he mimicked, bumping Remus’ hip with his own. “What kind do you want?”

Remus shrugged one shoulder as they turned down the next aisle, scanning the shelves of plastic-wrapped packages in a million different patterns. “I like the look of the white ones, but grey or blue could be nice. You?”

“As long as they’re soft and have you in them, I don’t care.”

“Sap,” he teased, though he was unable to fight the blush racing hot up his neck. Sirius didn’t protest; his small, smug smile needed no explanation. Remus pushed the cart slowly down the aisle, making note of the price tags as he went. Sheets were always an expense—not as bad as blankets or, god forbid, a new mattress, but an expense all the same. He had managed to keep his last ones in good condition for almost ten years before they wore out.

The $30 set doesn’t look too bad, but that’s a weird color…Sirius hates microfiber…I’d rather not sleep on puppy print…getting laid on a 1970s paisley pattern would kill me instantly… “How about these?”

He startled and glanced down the aisle, where Sirius was holding a set in faint gray. An unbidden grin pulled at the side of his mouth. “The softest of the bunch, huh?”

“Of course,” Sirius laughed. “Come feel, it’s like heaven.”

Remus pushed off and hopped up on the undercarriage, riding the cart all the way until he reached Sirius’ side; his hand was halfway to the exposed block of fabric when he froze. $186.99, read the price tag below the stack of sheets in varying colors. Almost $200, and the only difference was the softness. “I…” he faltered slightly, looking between Sirius and the sheets for a moment.

“Do you not like them?”

“No, I do,” Remus said as his mind whirred. He had never spent more than a hundred dollars on sheets before. It wasn’t wildly out his budget, especially once he started working with the Lions, but he had always been careful with money. Sirius…Sirius had never had to do that. Never in his life.

“Is it the color? Because they have white ones—”

“It’s 200 dollars,” he almost laughed. Sirius fell quiet in obvious confusion as Remus turned to look at him. “Sirius, those sheets are 200 dollars.”

“Yes?”

“There’s—” Remus broke off again; something a little too much like shame for his liking crawled up his throat. “I—sure, yeah, if you like them.”

“It’s not about what Ilike,” Sirius continued, as if he couldn’t see the discomfort tensing every one of Remus’ muscles. “It’s our bed. I don’t want to get sheets you hate.”

“No, no, they’re nice.” Too nice. Remus forced a smile. “I like them.”

Sirius looked at him for a moment. “Which ones do you prefer?”

The ones that don’t cost the same as my monthly food budget. “Uh, the color threw me off at first,” he said. “The blue ones are better.”

The crease between Sirius’ brows eased by a degree and he kissed Remus’ jaw gently, then switched the sets. “D’accord, mon loup. Whatever makes you happy.”

Remus was as quiet as he could be without arousing suspicion for the rest of the trip. Sirius paid for their things—like always, Remus realized with a turn of his stomach—and helped him carry the bags to the car without another word about the sheets.

He stayed quiet the whole way home.

The shame mounted as they drove. It seemed everything was a sudden, unwelcome reminder of just how different he and Sirius were. Sirius’ family had a chef during his childhood—Remus made himself PB&Js every morning for the entirety of middle school. Sirius had a brand-new car—Remus had never had cause to justify that over public transportation and Uber. It was embarrassing, and Sirius’ unintentional thoughtlessness was more frustrating than he thought it would be.

He didn’t say anything as they pulled up to the house and unloaded their shopping bags; his shirt and jeans itched his skin like sandpaper. Judging from the look on Sirius’ face, he had picked up on Remus’ frustration, but there was no way Remus was going to get into the root of it while he still felt so twitchy.

Damn you and your emotional intelligence, he thought as he slipped past Sirius’ worried glances and up the stairs to their bedroom. Be oblivious for once and let me get through this.

The bed was stripped bare—their duvet and pillows sat in a heap on top of the mattress. Remus thought back to the first night he had slept there, marveling at the cloudlike support on his achy lower back. He had chalked it up to the pure bliss that came with finally having what he really wanted, but his traitorous brain was starting to convince him it wasn’t the joy that made it seem so nice.

He had never gone without food. His parents always made sure he had clothes that mostly fit and the school supplies he needed. They paid for his hockey gear and the team dues until he was old enough to work part-time and start saving his own money; scholarships had always been of a quiet importance in their house. Things got tighter when Jules was born, but they made it work. Remus would always be grateful for that.

Sirius had never had to think about money in that way. Not once.

Remus sighed through his nose as he pulled his battered Wisconsin hoodie over his head and tightened the drawstring of his sweats, letting the comfort envelop him. “It’s not his fault,” he murmured into the mirror. “Don’t get into your head about this.”

Sirius was in the living room when Remus made his way down the stairs with his hands curled into the worn sleeves of the hoodie. He said nothing while Remus began absently cleaning up the scattered items around their junk bowl, though his gaze prickled the back of his neck.

“Mon loup?” came the soft question after two minutes of tense silence.

“Yeah?” he managed around the tightness in his lungs.

He could practically taste Sirius’ hesitation. “Did I—nevermind. Sorry.”

“What?”

“It’s nothing,” Sirius said again, though he seemed to be folding in on himself. Remus hated seeing him try and take up less space, and hated the idea that he was the one that caused it.

$200. On sheets.

“What’s going on?” Remus asked, leaning back against the countertop.

“No, I just—” Sirius pasted on a smile and cross the room, dropping a tentative kiss to the top of his head as he passed despite the wary look in his eyes. “Just a thought. It’s nothing.”

“You’re upset.”

“No, no, I’m good.”

“Please don’t lie to me.” It came out harsher than intended and Remus winced. “I mean—Sirius, something is obviously bothering you.”

He chewed the inside of his lip for a moment, rubbing his thumbs in small circles over the marble countertop before making brief eye contact. “You’re angry,” he said at last, cautiously. “Are you angry with me?”

“No,” Remus said, then paused. Sirius’ face fell. “Well, I’m a little irritated, but—but it’s stupid, and I shouldn’t be.”

“It’s not stupid.”

Remus swallowed hard at the kicked-puppy look on Sirius’ face. “It is.”

“I’m sorry,” Sirius said.

And that was…honestly, kind of the worst thing he could say. “You don’t get it,” Remus said, staring at the floor. “Sirius, you just spent 200 dollars on sheets.”

If anything, that seemed to upset him more. “You said you liked them.”

“I—” Remus flailed his hand around. “I do! But Jesus, honey, that’s kind of a lot!”

“We both liked the sheets.”

“I don’t know how to tell you that that’s expensive!” he blurted as the words wormed their way out and hung in the air. “Two hundred dollars might be peanuts to you, but that used to be my food budget for the month!”

“Remus—”

“You have never had to budget a day in your life,” he said, quieter. “Your watch probably cost more than a month’s rent for my apartment, you’ve never taken public transportation—”

“Remus—”

“—and you make millions of dollars every year!” He paused, out of breath, and ran a hand through his hair in disbelief. “Millions, Sirius. And—and now that we’re together, that we’re living together, it’s just really apparent in a way that it wasn’t before.”

Sirius’ throat bobbed. “I wish you had told me at the store.”

“It’s not about the sheets,” Remus laughed, because there was nothing else he could do other than cry. “We have entirely different views of how much money is worth. You can pay for things for me and I can’t do the same for you, and that feels like shit.”

An unsettling quiet blanketed the whole first floor as Sirius stayed very, very still, like a small animal caught in a trap. “I don’t know what you want me to say,” he confessed, barely above a whisper. “You’re right. Money is…it’s not something I’ve had to think about, but I like spending it on you.”

“I don’t like being cared for,” Remus forced out around the grate that had been keeping it down. “I don’t like feeling like I can’t support myself, or that I’m a burden on you and especially that I can’t repay that.”

Sirius finally met his eyes, and he looked appalled. “Remus, you’re never a burden.”

“It feels like it.” He was horrified to feel the burn of tears in his eyes. “Sometimes. When—when you buy nice things for me, or we go on nice vacations, or even when you buy groceries for us for the fifth time in a row, it feels like I’m using you for your money.”

“But you’re not.”

“No!” Remus said immediately. “God, no, never. That’s the last thing I want. But I don’t want you to have to change your lifestyle to make it revolve around me, either. I feel like I’m caught in the middle and there’s no good answer.”

Sirius watched him for a moment, the way that always made Remus feel a little bit like a particularly intricate play he was trying to work out. “What did you want to say at the store?”

“I—what?”

“What did you want to say while we were getting the sheets?”

Remus bit his lip in thought. “Those are too expensive, and I think we should get different ones,” he said eventually. “I like the color and the fabric, but I don’t want to spend that much money on sheets when we could do something else with it.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t ask sooner.” The earnest look on Sirius’ face eased some of the bubbling feelings in his chest. “And I’m sorry you didn’t feel like you could tell me.”

“I was embarrassed.”

“…why?”

“Because it’s embarrassing to look at your multi-millionaire boyfriend and say, ‘I can’t afford $200 sheets’, Sirius. It sucks. I feel like I can’t measure up.”

Sirius nodded. “I’ve never judged you for your money, not once. Just for the record. There’s nothing I would rather spend it on than making you happy.”

“I don’t want to be sheltered and provided for.” Remus blinked back the last of the tears and closed his eyes. “I want us to be equals. That’s important to me.”

“Okay.”

“And I don’t know how to fix this right away.”

“I don’t, either.” Warm fingers brushed the back of his hand and he leaned into Sirius without looking. “Can we try and figure it out, though? As a team?”

“Yes, captain,” he snorted, feeling Sirius’ soft huff on the top of his head. They stood silently for a few seconds before Remus let go of his tension with a slow exhale. “I don’t think a joint bank account is a good idea yet, but maybe we can start by alternating who buys groceries? Or something small like that. I don’t want to feel like this anymore, not with you. I love you too much.”

Sirius nuzzled into his hair for a moment before lips pressed against his temple. “How about we start by making the bed?”

The pressure on Remus’ chest eased. Making the bed was easy. They had the exact same method for it, a function of Sirius growing up with a militant mother and Remus’ aunts lovingly terrorizing him into learning how to do hospital corners. It was an olive branch that he could happily accept with a light squeeze around Sirius’ waist. Baby steps, he thought. We’ll deal with the big stuff when we’re better settled. He offered a half-smile to Sirius. “What are we waiting for?”

#remus lupin #sirius black #coops #sweater weather #lumosinlove #money talk #hurt/ comfort #angst #argument #sheets

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