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#Sub!Reader
strangererotica · 8 hours
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TWO HOLES, ONE DOM
EXPLICIT CONTENT • MINORS DNI • Steddie x Reader smut • MFM established relationship • Dom!Steve • Soft Dom!Eddie • Sub!Reader • Includes degradation kink, rough sex, shower sex, oral sex, anal sex, pretty much all the sex…oh, and spit.
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Eddie closed his arms around you from behind, your back pulled to his chest. You were both naked, on his couch, skin flush against skin. Eddie’s breath spread warm and moist along your neck, dusting your shoulders as he peppered kisses across your skin.
“You feel so soft, honey,” he murmured beside your ear. “So soft ‘n pretty.” His hands massaged your breasts, gently kneading them, your nipples perking to meet his palms. Shifting in Eddie’s lap, you arched your back so your ass was pressed against his stiffening cock.
He lifted you slightly by your hips, adjusting his cock so it was pointing between his legs, and sat you down on top of it. Eddie grunted at the feeling of your weight pushing down on him, his cock throbbing between your legs. “Now go ahead and rub, back ‘n forth, just like we talked about,” Eddie instructed.
You did as you’d been told without hesitation, rubbing your cunt against Eddie’s cock. His length was quickly covered in your slick, the veins along his shaft glistening in the dim light of the room. You watched between your legs, gliding forward and back, whimpering each time Eddie’s tip nudged your clit.
“That’s it baby,” he gently praised, his face nestled in your hair. “Rub it just like that-fuck…” Eddie reached around and slid a hand between your thighs, his fingertips finding your clit. You whimpered softly as he stroked you. Against your back, you could feel the muscles in his stomach tensing, his forehead dipping to rest on your shoulder. Eddie grunted your name and a host of unintelligible words as he came, his semen spurting from between your thighs. You watched his cock twitch and pulse, his release spilling onto the floor at your feet.
The sound of the front door opening caught your attention; you and Eddie both looked up to see Steve entering the room. He immediately stopped in the doorway as soon as he saw what was happening, pausing to take in the show, a sly smile on his face. “Well goddamn,” Steve chuckled to himself. “Looks like I got here just in time.” He noticed the look of blissful exhaustion on Eddie’s face, plus the copious amount of semen on the floor, and revised his statement. “…Or maybe a little late?”
Eddie kissed your shoulder and lifted you off his lap, placing your ass on the couch. “I’m done for, honey,” he conceded, an apologetic (but satisfied) smile on his face. He started for the shower, his softening cock swinging as he crossed the room. “But Harrington’s got ya-.” Eddie patted Steve’s shoulder on the way. “-Don’t ya, big boy?”
Steve licked his lips and smacked Eddie’s bare ass as he stumbled off. “Oh I’ve absolutely got her,” he replied, his eyes on you, then nodded toward the couch you were sitting on; “why don’t you lay back, pretty girl, ‘n get ready for me while I get out of these work clothes?”
You did as you were told, resting your head against one of the pillows at the far end of the couch. Steve sat down his work supplies and began to undress, removing his clothes a little slower than he needed to. He knew how much you loved his body, and had no problem showing off for you.
Your hands slid between your thighs; Steve smiled approvingly. It seemed he wasn’t the only one putting on a show for someone tonight.
“That’s a good girl,” he said, discarding his shirt to the floor. “Now show me how you touch yourself, when me and Eddie aren’t here…”
You spread your legs wider for Steve, using two fingers to part your lips and let him see just how sopping wet humping Eddie’s dick had made you.
Steve exhaled, his smile fading to an expression of arousal. He unbuckled his belt, tugging it from the loops in his pants, and discarded it with his shirt. Steve took a few steps toward you, stepping around Eddie’s semen, till he was standing right in front of the couch. He watched you rubbing circles on your clit, his jaw tensed, focused. The bulge in Steve’s pants was straining to be relieved; the outline of his cock throbbed under the fabric.
Your mouth was watering to taste him. You were so thirsty for cum that you were having a hard time resisting the urge to lick Eddie’s off the ground like a bitch. Steve could sense your desperation, and he wanted to make it worse. Steve grabbed a handful of your hair and tugged your face into his crotch, still clothed, his pants undone but not removed. He rubbed your face against his bulge, your lips instinctively parting and wrapping along the outline of his cock. Steve yanked your face back and slapped you lightly across the cheek, not enough to hurt, but enough to put you in your place. “Did I tell you to put your mouth around it?” he snapped, before tossing you back onto the couch.
Steve climbed astride your body, straddling you. “Spread that pussy open,” he ordered. “Let me see my little hole again.” You did as Steve requested, flinching in surprise as he spat directly between your parted lips. Removing his cock from his pants, Steve didn’t give you a chance to see it; he penetrated you immediately, stuffing you whole in one thrust. You gasped at the shock of being filled so abruptly, and Steve smirked down at you. “Take it like a pro, y’know that?” He grabbed one of your ankles, holding onto it for leverage while he pumped you. “Pussy so good it’s gold…Hell, maybe me ‘n Ed should start renting it out now and then, yeah? What do you think…?”
You loved it when they talked down to you like this, especially Steve. You knew it was all for fun; none of the degradation was meant to scratch below the skin, and it never did. All three of you enjoyed it, regardless of which end of the power exchange you, Steve or Eddie happened to be on. But when Steve made you feel small, cheap, dirty…it was pure magic.
“…In fact-.” Steve ceased his assault on your insides, removing his cock from your pussy and lifting you off the couch by your shoulders. “I don’t think one cock’s gonna be enough for this pussy tonight, is it?” You liked where Steve’s mind was going, following him to the bathroom with a smile on your face. Eddie was rinsing himself in the shower, his long hair wet and flattened against his back. The bathroom was steamy and smelled like Eddie’s shampoo. Steve removed his pants, pulled the shower door back and gently took Eddie by the waist, letting him know the two of you were there without startling him.
Eddie wiped the water from his eyes and smiled at his visitors. “Hey pretties,” he said. “What’s up? Oh-.” Steve’s erection prodded Eddie’s thigh. “-It looks like you are, Stevie,” Eddie finished. “Figured the two of you took care of that on the couch?”
Steve shook his head. “I got the sense that our girl needs more than one cock inside her tonight. Isn’t that right, (y/n)?”
You nodded eagerly, because of course Steve was correct. You were feeling especially greedy tonight, and as usual, Steve knew exactly what you needed.
“Get on your knees,” he told you, pointing at the shower floor. “Suck Eddie’s cock till he’s hard again.” Steve took Eddie’s face between his hands and pulled him close, parting Eddie’s lips with his tongue and burying himself between them. You went to your knees and licked at Eddie’s flaccid cock, tasting the warm drops of water that dripped down his body from the shower head. Closing your lips around Eddie’s shaft, you suckled his cock gently at first, then pressed your face forward, nose against the wiry, moist hair of his bush, swallowing him whole. Eddie groaned between Steve’s lips as they made out; Steve’s erection bobbed over your head as you worked Eddie between your lips.
He was fully erect again in less than two minutes. You rose to your feet and switched places with Steve, making out with Eddie while Steve sucked Eddie’s cock. Eddie’s hands roamed your body, exploring your breasts and groping them with that same gentle intensity he had earlier, making you softly weep cum onto Steve’s shoulders. Steve felt it and left Eddie’s cock, tilting his chin upward and pressing his face inside your cunt. You broke away from Eddie’s lips with a moan, your thighs trembling around Steve’s face. Your fingers laced through Steve’s hair, holding yourself steady while he ate you. Eddie knelt forward to take one of your nipples between his teeth, lightly tugging and sucking the perky bud while continuing to grope and massage your other breast.
You came on Steve’s face, grinding yourself over his nose, which you’d been spoiled for since the first time he’d eaten you out this way, on his knees. Steve’s nose fit your cunt perfectly, his tongue slipping inside you every so often as he rocked his head between your thighs, letting you ride him.
Eddie was so hard by now, his balls were aching for relief, his hole feeling empty and desperate to be filled. He kissed Steve’s shoulder from behind, quietly asking “please?” And the pathetic neediness in his voice stroked Steve’s ego so well, there was no way he could deny Eddie any longer.
Steve walked around Eddie so that Eddie was in between you. Eddie reached around you for your breasts with one hand, while the other slid down your belly to your clit. He lined himself up with your pussy, and gently pressed inside you. Your head tipped back, warm water cascading through your hair as you moaned and bucked on Eddie’s cock, reaching forward and bracing your palms against the shower wall. Steve stood back and watched Eddie fucking you, the way his hands gripped into the soft meat of your hips, listening to the wet smacking sound your body and Eddie’s made as he slammed into your cunt.
Steve planted his feet firmly behind Eddie, and closed his hands over his shoulders. Eddie tilted his head back to taste Steve’s tongue again, all the while never slowing his pace inside you. Steve ran his hand along the muscles in Eddie’s throat, while using his other hand to line his tip with Eddie’s hole.
Using the rhythm that Eddie had established while fucking you, Steve pressed his tip just inside of Eddie, letting him rock back and forth at his own pace, gradually taking Steve all the way. When Steve was fully sheathed inside of Eddie, he relaxed with his arms over his head, letting the warm water run over him while Eddie fucked himself on his dick. The fluid motion of Eddie fucking you was enough for Steve, as Eddie squeezed him like a vice with every thrust he made into you. Listening to the combined whimpers and grunts of Eddie and Steve, you felt yourself getting close again. Eddie was coming apart completely, the fullness of Steve in his ass and the grip of you around his cock sending him spiraling.
Eddie choked back a sob when he came, emptying his second load of the night deep inside your cunt, his hand working rhythmically over your clit as he pulled another orgasm from you. Steve grabbed Eddie by the hips, fingernails digging crescent shapes into the skin at his sides, railing into him till he felt his own climax drawing near. Wrapping an arm around Eddie’s chest, Steve bent him forward till both their faces were angled at the shower floor. Steve ejaculated as deep in Eddie’s ass as he could manage, making sure he reminded both of his holes exactly who they belonged to.
When he finished, Steve gently pulled out of Eddie, and breathlessly fell into both his lover’s arms. The three of you were exhausted, in the best possible way, and so in love with each other that it almost hurt. Steve cupped your face and Eddie’s inside his big, warm palms, and shared a kiss with you…tongues tangling together, searching, exploring…hands coiling in hair, water running between each other’s lips and bodies where they met, with no room between the three of you, not even for air…
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nivisdreaming · 7 months
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Kinktober Day 1: Size - Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader
WC: 1.1k
CW: Size play, predator/prey dynamics, established relationship, piv penetration, no protection, creampie, teasing, praise, sub!reader, dom!miguel, subspace implied, reader gets fucked so good she passes out, aftercare is included
Notes: first time writing for miguel? pog? also welcome to kinktober everyone its gonna get freaky >:)
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Miguel is constantly pinning you to things. He’s not even doing it on purpose necessarily, he’s just so big.
It’s not his fault that he’ll reach for something over your head, or try to scooch behind you in the kitchen or hallway, and all of a sudden you’re pushed against the nearest surface being towered over by a 6’9 spider hybrid.
What is his fault is how he abuses it once he realizes how flustered it makes it. He’s always been very perceptive when it came to you. He knows how your cheeks flush red with embarrassment, how your breath hitches, and your thighs squeeze together in need, right as you look upward to view him caging you in. It always gives a sickening ego boost. You’re just so small compared to him. Breakable. Fragile. Delicate. Delicious.
He starts subtlety. Sneaking behind you when you’re making morning coffee, hovering behind when you work at your desk, and of course, getting you down on your knees for him whenever possible. It doesn’t take long to escalate however, coming to a head one night before he is set to attend a Spider Society gala with you as his plus one.
You slide the dress up your body carefully, allowing the snug material to cling tight around your breasts in its strapless style. You straighten it out and peered over your shoulder to call, “Miggy? Can you come zip me up please?”
You adjust your hair and makeup in the mirror as you listen to his lumbering footsteps, smiling when he appears behind you, his eyes tracing over your curves in the reflection. He takes a step closer, and the way his shoulders dwarf yours causes your breath to hitch. He slides a hand up your side and another comes to rest on the back of your neck. You open your mouth to make the request again, but the air is knocked out of you as he pushes forwards, pinning you firmly to the floor-length mirror without looking away from his scanning of your body.
“Sweet, tiny little thing. You’re so easy to push around, aren’t you, mi princesa?” He pushes his hips forward to rut against your ass, and your eyes nearly roll to the back of your head from the combo of his growling tone and his hot erection against you. He leans down to nip at your earlobe before muttering, “I know you love how much bigger than you I am. Does it make you feel all funny? To know how I could wreck you, how I could turn you into my cowering prey, stuck underneath me? It makes your brain all fuzzy. And it makes your cunt dripping wet.” He uses the hand on your side to tug up the dress, exposing your bare ass. He scoffs at the lewdity and gives one of the round globes a spank, forcing a whimper from you.
You watch him in the mirror as he blocks you in on all sides while running a finger down to your folds, teasingly sliding it against your entrance before bringing it to his month to suck off the slick. He hums in approval and moves his arms to sit on either side of your head, leaving you boxed in but free to move against him.
“Spin around. I wanna look you in the eyes while I stretch your tight pussy to it’s breaking point, and if I see you look away I will make sure neither of us sees this event tonight.”
You gulp and slowly twirl around, having to crane your neck to meet his eyes even as he leers down at you. He places a hand over yours and coaxes it to the front of his crotch, using you to squeeze at his bulge before instructing you to undo the zipper and pull him out. You obey without hesitation, allowing him to tug down the top of your dress and reveal your tits as you do. His cock springs eagerly from its confines, precum already leaking from the tip that has flushed a deep purple.
Instinctively you try to drop down to your knees, your clouded headspace demanding that you needed to gag around him as soon as possible, but he manhandles you back up and off the ground with your wrists above your head and legs wrapped around his slutty waist. The rough force has you moaning softly, eyes already glazed over despite the lack of direct stimulation. It makes him chuckle darkly.
He lines his tip up with your entrance and gives no warning before sliding in with a single thrust. The slick dripping down your thighs is plenty of lube as he begins an earth-shattering pace, hips slamming into yours and tip kissing your cervix with every thrust. He leans down and vigorously sucks and bites around your breasts, littering them with hickeys while you cry on his cock, sobbing hysterically from pleasure.
He pulls away from his marking to take in your appearance, at the fat globs of tears gathering on your cheeks make his hips stutter and his abs tense. “God, princesa, feels so good to corrupt you like this,” he switches his grip from your hip to your tummy so he can thumb at your clit, “So ruined for me. Molded this tiny cunt to my dick, so it’s perfect just for me.” You whimper at the praise, jaw dropping open and tongue lolling out as he slides against the spongey spot inside you and rubs fast circles around your bundle of nerves.
“That’s it, my good little girl. So delicate, just gotta take care of you by breaking that poor little brain every once and awhile. Go ahead sweet thing, cum on me, show me how good little prey thank the predators.” His words send you spinning into the abyss, everything in your body pulling taunt and then snapping back as your vision goes from white to black and suddenly you’re so light and floaty that you can’t feel the way you soak Miguel’s cock, nor the way he cums deep inside you as your walls milk him dry. You don’t feel him carry you to the bed, or feel him drag the damp cloth between your legs. You don’t feel how he kisses both your cheeks in hopes of getting your eyes to flutter open, to no avail.
What you do feel is when he pulls your trembling body against his broad chest, rubbing up and down on your arms softly and whispering to you. “Mi amor, you gotta come back to me now. Open up those eyes for me. You did so good for me baby, surprised you made it as long as you did without passing out on my dick. C’mon, wakey wakey corazón.” His words are encouragement enough to float back downwards, settling into his touch until you have enough strength to pull your eyelids open and peer up at him with large doe-eyes. “Aw, welcome back little girl. Te amo.”
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wandasfifthwife · 1 month
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masterlist | I got a bad idea series
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southern!wandanat x fem!city-girl reader
summary: you’re visiting your grandparents’ farm because they wished for everyone to come together again after five years. your grandma decides to invite others like their neighbors—an older married couple who’s been a family friend for years—to their big get together as well. the morning after the event you find yourself waking up in their bed with no memory of the day before.
tw: married!wandanat, age gap (w&n are 30, r is 23), small hurt/comfort, r gets injured (minor), there will be smut MDNI (w&n top, r bottom), alcohol consumption mentioned (by r, w, and n), no description on reader besides that r uses she/her pronouns and has a v&breasts, r falls first but they fall HARDER, poly relationship, light angst with happy ending!!
a/n: each individual chapter will have its own trigger warnings. If you would like to be on the taglist, comment :)
MASTERLIST
* = suggestive content
*** = smut 18+ MDNI
main story | completed
(1) a classic get-together
(2) the curse of living in a small town
(3) take me dancing *
(4) sweet thing
(5) a bad decision ***
(6) said that we were done but you’re all up on me *****
(7) please, let me stay *
random snippets
family dinner *
early mornings ***
random
this series’s playlist *
series’ mood board
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natti-ice · 2 months
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dom!eddie x sub!reader
riding eddie on the couch and wayne catching them😋
Pairing: Dom!Eddie Munson x Sub!fem!reader
Warnings: 18+ mdni, p in v, getting caught, “slut” is used once
Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated<3
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Your legs are wrapped around Eddie's waist as you rock your hips back and forth, you can feel every inch of his cock sliding in and out of your tightness. You let out soft breathless moans and wrap your arms around his neck and pushing yourself further onto him. Eddie's big and rough hands are gripping your hips tightly, guiding your body with every thrust.
"Good girl, ride my cock just like that" he praises and starts to move your body a little faster, you can feel the old dated couch beneath the both of you start to sink as things become more intense. Eddie nuzzles his face into your neck, his warm breath tickles which turns you on even more. "You're such a good little slut for me" he whispers, lust laced in every syllable.
The only thing that could be heard in the trailer were your moans and the sound of skin slapping together as you began to bounce up and down on his cock. "Oh fuck, baby" you moaned out loudly, the immense pleasure started to turn your brain to mush, you couldn't comprehend anything else going on around you except for fucking Eddie. And damn, you love fucking Eddie.
Eddie moved his hands from your hips, allowing you to keep the pace, and grabs both of your tits. He squeezes them roughly, not enough to hurt you but just enough to make you go crazy. His calloused thumbs graze your hard and sensitive nipples causing you to whimper softly at just the slightest touch. "Mmm" he hums "so responsive"
You were both so caught up in the moment you didn't hear the trailer door open, it wasn't till you heard the older man's gravelly voice did you realize you weren't alone. "Dear lord" Wayne Munson spoke, your eyes widen and immediately try to get off of Eddie but he pulled you back down and threw a blanket over you haphazardly. You couldn't bring yourself to look at Wayne, seeing his face would make this even worse.
“Uncle Wayne!” Eddie yells out, annoyed that you two were interrupted “do you mind?”
“Um,” you can hear the shock and bewilderment in Wayne’s voice “I’ll just uh-” before he finished his sentence you could hear quick steps and the door slam shut. Eddie lets out a frustrated sigh and looks back up at you.
“So, where were we?” He says casually as if unfazed by what happened, his cock still buried deep inside you.
“What?” Your heart was beating out of your chest with embarrassment and lingering desire, you couldn’t believe you got caught but it gave you quite the rush “we can’t keep going” you try to reason with him but you knew it was no good.
“We can and we are,” he says with finality in his voice and begins to thrust up into you “I don’t care who sees, this is my pussy and I decide when I fuck it, understood?” He increases his pace and hold you in place as he jackhammers into your wet hole
The feeling of his cock stretching you out was too good to resist, you knew it was wrong but Eddie had a way of making you feel things no one else could, moans start to flow freely from you once again.
“Yes, sir”
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Tags: @ali-r3n @thebiggestnaturaldisaster @canmargesimpson @nailbatanddungeon @queermaxwooo @zestychili @skrzydlak @supersmexyandhot @themadhattersqueen @arthurcerverogf @marshymallo
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1800titz · 2 months
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HI. This is the pornstar!AU (Tiger Harry). Enjoy :D
CONTENT/WARNINGS: face-fucking, anal play-ish, Sir kink, general manhandling, light dom-sub dynamics
WC: 8.6K
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“Are you open to raw anal?” is probably not a statement Y/N had …entirely expected to hear when she’d agreed to discourse over pastries and dirty chai lattes. 
It’s a pretty good one, all things considered, and asked with complete professionalism, according to their careers and the open, apathetically businesslike expression shaping the features of her counterpart. Y/N takes a sip of her latte. It is quite a good latte. He wasn’t wrong there. 
Harry blinks. 
It’s very on brand, despite the way she’s sure one of the baristas has definitely twisted around from the dishpit, side eye discreet …but there. And in the barista’s defense, she couldn’t even blame her for eavesdropping on the sordid contents of their public discourse. Y/N isn’t going to turn around and look. 
In Harry’s, he didn’t exactly shout. 
The man across from her takes a slow sip from his latte. Good latte, very good latte. 
She can’t help but admire his varying assortment of rings as he cradles the cup, irises winding from the blocky, golden S to its chunky counterpart, the H. So many times she’d admired those hands, those ring-clad fingers traipsing over bare skin, just the tips meddling over abdomens and winding circles around navels. Those digits sunk into the hair of his partner, tangled into the roots as he manually bobs her head over his cock. Those fingers twisting over the pink tip of his shaft, lining it up before his hips pump. Those long fingers splaying over cunts, swiping a thumb to ogle in front of the camera. 
There've been so many instances where Y/N had wondered the significance of that H and that S. And it’s been really quite simple all along.
Should I call you Tiger in person, then? she’d tapped out over the LED keyboard, days prior when they’d only been discussing the prospect of a meet up. Days prior, before she’d flown out for an on-camera collaboration, to bask in the sunlight of California, to enjoy overpriced dirty chai lattes and oddly promiscuous dialogue in the corner of a cafe. 
I think I’ll just take Harry when the cameras aren’t rolling x, RideTheTiger had messaged back. 
Anyways, it’d probably be a sleazy, poorly-executed one liner (and consequently, a horrifically red flag) in possibly every other circumstance, but this isn’t a first date and RideTheTiger has, thus far, been the furthest thing from sleazy. Even paid for her dirty chai latte, practically shouldering her out of the slot at the register. Pulled her chair out for her, asked about her traveling fares prior to delving into said anal topic. It’s all been fairly gentlemanly. Very business-partner-coffee-meeting. 
“No condom,” Harry tacks on, like it’s clarification for the raw segment of raw anal, as if it actually needed some sort of clarification. 
Y/N takes another sip. Damn good latte. 
“I like it,” the young woman tells him, clearing her throat on this edge that implies she’s mindful of her volume. Somehow, even as a freelance pornstar, she still hasn’t quite managed to get over the awkward degree of shame that a public setting incites. “I like the...” 
That barista is definitely fucking peering over.
“…The mess,” she settles on, because anal creampie doesn’t feel like a term to be said with her whole chest over a guava pastelito. 
For a short moment, Harry just watches her, jade roaming and the corners of his mouth slowing seeping into a simper, like he knows brazenly discussing anal creampies in the middle of a cafe — not quite packed, but still a cafe — has her kind of squirming in her seat. He takes another drink. 
“She’s got airpods in,” the man tells her eventually, forest-y irises jolting to something behind her head — the barista that’s clattering about behind the counter. And if she’s listening in, she’s probably going to go home and find one of them online, or ultimately both, and probably subscribe. 
The tension in her shoulders melts away the longer he grins at her over the lip of his lid, dimples indented in the flesh beside the upturned edges of his mouth. It’s just what they do for a living. It’s just sex. It’s just talking about the sex they’re going to have on camera. 
There’s bells and whistles to it, too, but it beats sitting at home and answering phone calls where angry customers screech all tinny through the headset and don’t comprehend the words, “Sir, if you can’t use your inside voice and talk to me like a civilized human being, I’m not going to be able to resolve your issue.” For Y/N it is. At least she gets a couple of orgasms out of this. 
“Sorry,” she tells him, shoulders slumping, “I think I’m still not— I get …weird talking about it in public settings.”
Tiger gives her this careful look over, eyes amused. 
“S’okay, I understand. If you’d rather get into the details back at mine, I’m okay with that.” 
“No, no,” Y/N protests, motioning out with her free hand, almost like her frigidly humiliated disposition will turn him off from collaboration, “No. It’s just, like. Sex work— it’s— it’s 2024. Nothing to be ashamed of.” 
Harry blinks. He gives her another one of those slow, knowing grins with his strawberry mouth. 
“No, seriously. We can get into the …rough drafting in a more private setting.” And then he takes another casual, horribly nonchalant sip, “I get it.” 
The man splays back against the chair, the hand not clutching at his beverage laid against smooth bamboo varnish, the nails there neatly manicured and painted with a soft shade of green lacquer. Y/N wonders what that particular color would look like with a glimmering top coat after he’s sunk the digits in between her thighs. She casts her gaze back up to his face. 
“I just figured I’d ask because we exchanged tests last week.” 
Clean as a whistle, RideTheTiger, (appropriately renamed in her contacts as Harry Tiger OF collab), had messaged on a Tuesday afternoon. That text was tailed with an HDR attachment of paperwork detailing his clean-as-a-whistle results, for proof. And the polish on his nails, fingertips gripped over the edge of the sheet, had been a pretty sky blue in the picture. 
She’d wondered the same thing, then; what OPI’s Rich Girls & Po-boys would look like glazed with a sheen of her slick arousal. 
He’s just a fuckable man, Y/N thinks, sat back in his chair like discussing sex work scene scripting is a normal mid-day affair, soft dusting of stubble coating his jaw, curls swept up off his forehead. His white tee shrouds the swallows and the inky butterfly she’s seen flexing over his tummy, the laurels that seep into the deep cut of his v-line, but it does very, very little to hide the artistry that litters his arm. 
That same arm she’d seen in videos, wrapped in pumped muscle as his fingers had worked his partner to the brink of bliss at a merciless pace, plush mouth shaping over some sort of filthy croon, dimples indented. Those same hands cradling over his counterpart’s throat with a gentle squeeze, that same thumb swiping messily over his partner’s bottom lip. Those same eyebrows with a crease carved between their furrow, those same curls in sweaty, disheveled disarray from the incessant rake through of his hands as his cock got swallowed up by a pretty, swarthy-skinned brunette, or maybe a blonde. A curl that’d flopped over his forehead in those videos, hardly hiding a rivulet of sweat that’d dripped from his hairline, is neatly tucked back under designer shades, now. 
Designer shades he’s bought with his dirty porn money, because despite his spiffy, clean boy, seemingly innocuous demeanor, RideTheTiger is dirty, dirty, dirty. 
Because under his warm smiles and his twinkling jade, there’s an alter ego that lives on the internet. One she’s all too familiar with. 
It makes her chest sort of flush under her sweater. This is happening. This is going to happen. 
The chair creaks a little when he sits up, clearing his throat, “I didn’t want to assume, but. I mean— I’m sure you’ve seen, like, my tips. Is it …odd to say I’m a fan of your content?” his gaze slowly settles from his drink to her face, smooth baritone almost …bashful as plush pink splits into a beam and his words catch on a laugh, “Is that …weird?”
Y/N knows exactly what he’s referring to. They’d been two mutuals subscribed to one another, chunks of profit migrating from inbox to inbox. It’d been like a volley, electric currency bouncing through the expanse of the internet, racket to racket, account back to account, pinging notifications striking on uploads behind paywalls. Only then, Tiger was just a man behind a screen. Tiger wasn’t sitting at a table in front of her, and they weren’t discussing the crude elements of the video they were going to shoot together. 
“Not at all,” Y/N clears her throat and pairs it with a side-to-side shake of her head. 
She’ll never admit that she’d touched herself to the solo session that’d popped up in her DM’s behind a paywall only last week, an automated promotion sent out to all subscribers. The one where he’d been sat in one of those lush, swivel-y chairs in front of his computer, firm thighs splayed and ringed hand tugging over his leaky cock. The camera angle was broad enough to capture his eye contact with the lens, the way his front teeth would nip at his bottom lip, the way the column of his straining throat would go on show as he’d tipped his head back with a groan. 
She blinks, staring ahead as she remembers the way cum had painted all the way up over the panting butterfly. Harry grins from across the table. She half-expects him to brazenly admit he’s done the same to her content. So far, she’s concluded that he’s quite unashamed. 
“Makes it easier to fuck, right?” Y/N says, beating him to the punchline. 
He makes this face then, tipping his head, eyes widening and blinking playfully, mouth curling like he’s appalled by her brazen admission in said public setting. Before the young woman can get flustered by his teasing, he sits back and lets his features relax into something soft.
“Yeah. It does.” 
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Harry doesn’t tell Y/N she should wear a plug on the day that they calendar in for shooting. Not while they’re in the cafe. In fact, he waits three whole hours until the very precise moment where she’s using her apple pay at a drive through for the notification banner to swipe down. 
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When Y/N steps into his entryway, there’s a wilting cactus stemming from a ceramic basin next to a bowl of keys and varying knick knacks. There’s a pair of dice in there, too. 
“This is Tim,” Harry introduces, unprompted, motioning to the withering plant in passing. 
Y/N nudges with her chin like a sort of acknowledgement, tailing him through the hallway, where a neat array of three framed, abstractly artistic renditions of Kama Sutra positions line the segue. She’s half convinced that the doggy one follows her movement like one of those oddly unsettling renaissance portraits. 
“Very nice.”
It’s a Thursday, and they’ve determined today to be the day that they collaborate. She’s wearing the plug, and she tries to ignore the anticipation curdling in the pits of her tummy as she tails him to the lounge. 
“I think I overwatered him, honestly,” Harry tells her, aimed over his shoulder, “but I can’t bear to part with him.” 
He’s wearing gray sweats, and he’s definitely opted to go commando, if the imprint of his dick when he pivots to face her is anything to go off of (though, whether he’s ditched underwear for the sake of the shoot or solely for comfort, Y/N isn’t sure). All she’s really, actually sure of is that she urgently needs to unglue her eyes from the outline of his cock. 
“D’you want a drink or anything? I mean, I don’t like to do any alcohol before shoots, but if you want, I have seltzers in my fridge.” 
He’s all soft attire — the sweats and bare feet padding over tile, curls a little mussed and swept back. A white tee coats his torso with a cartoonish bee in the center. The words ENJOY HEALTH, EAT YOUR HONEY circle the little piece of outlined artwork in blue. His nails are still green. 
Y/N clears her throat. “Do you have water?” 
“F’course.” 
The kitchen is beside the lounge, and he tells her, as he makes his way over and opens a cabinet to cull a glass, “You can have a seat if you’d like. Figured we’d get the details down before we start filming.” 
His couch is an onyx leather, its form like one of those fancy ones from a 1970s inspired catalog. Y/N sinks into the cushion. She crosses her legs. Uncrosses them. Behind her, the fridge whirs in the kitchen as the water pours into the glass. She’s admiring his fireplace when he stretches the beverage out to her.
“What are we feeling today?” the man winds around to the bend of the sectional, flopping back against the cushions with a sigh as his cotton-clad thighs splay, “…Slow and romantic? Something a little more rough?” 
“Used and abused,” Y/N responds, surprised she manages to keep her cadence as even and nonchalant as she does. The second the statement escapes her, though, she takes a long sip from her glass and hides her simper behind it. 
“Used and abused,” Harry parrots, sitting up a tad as his hands seek new homage from their priorly relaxed splay over the back of the couch. His palms smooth down the fronts of his thighs, instead, and he gives her this little grin; something mischievous that lets his dimples wink alive. “I think I can work with that.”
Yes. She’s certain he can, based on his track record of deviously, deliciously rough content. Three weeks ago she watched a video where his partner was laid out on a table, duck-taped limb to limb, and Y/N had watched his hand — rings removed — roam her body with such delicacy as he drove forward into her. It was all up until the point where the same hand had snaked up around her throat, and then he’d brought it back and smacked her right across the side of her unsuspecting face. It’d sent his partner’s head snapping to the side, and a wave of heat riding through Y/N, coursing through her blood as she’d flipped the vibrator between her thighs to a higher setting. 
Yeah. He can work with that. 
“Since we’re going with that route,” Y/N blinks out from the fog of memoirs circling back to Tiger’s hands exploring and pinching and delivering blows. 
Tiger is much more subdued in this setting. 
“Let’s talk things you’re into, things you’re not so into.” 
The young woman gnaws into her cheek to bridle her grin. “Um. Anal’s a go. Obviously.”
Harry nods, mouth friendly, “Okay.” 
Y/N deliberates. She takes another sip. Harry waits patiently. His green bores into her, and the young woman rolls her lips into her mouth, pupils climbing up to the ceiling as she contemplates. She cocks her head.  
“…Face-fucking. That’s nice. I like dirty talk. I like getting my hair pulled. I like a little bit of pain. You know, like. Spanking. Face slapping, but not, like,” the edges of her mouth cave up, “MMA level—“
The joke culls a huff of soft laughter from him. He nods. 
“Just. General manhandling is good with me,” Y/N tells him. 
Harry nods, his fingers interlocked over his spread knees, and then he sits up a tad. 
“Alright. If we’re going with face fucking, I’m a fan of the trusty tap-tap-tap,” he tells her, motioning with his left palm and patting over his thigh in a series of three as he speaks, “If it ever gets to be too much and you can’t say it, just tap three times, yeah? Just like this.”
Y/N nods. She takes another sip. For a moment, Tiger still has his forearms braced over his lap, but then he sits up a little more. 
“And then when you can say, if anything’s uncomfortable, if you want me to do anything different, just let me know. Doesn’t matter if the camera’s on.” 
Y/N crosses her ankles. She uncrosses them.
“S’all about authenticity. Y’know,” his tongue peeks out to swipe over the plush of his bottom lip, “I don’t wanna be throwing you against the wall or choking you if it doesn’t feel good, even if it looks good on camera. If you’re a clit girl, we’ll play with your clit—“
Her thighs press together.
“If you’re a g-spot girl, we’ll focus on the g-spot.”
She swallows. 
“The throwing against the wall and the choking,” Y/N doesn’t bother hiding her simper as it grows, “Those are good with me, too. And— clit stuff. Yeah.” 
Tiger is hot. Fire hot, like lava coursing and bubbling over rigid stone, even in his soft attire with his soft curls and his soft smiles. He’s got these eyes that feel like they bore through her clothes, but it’s not in an uncomfortably hungry way. 
“What do you… what should I call you during the shoot?” 
His strawberry mouth curls a little. 
“I hear Tiger a lot. M’fine with whatever besides Harry on camera. …If you wanna get a little more into roles we can do Sir. But s’all up to you.” 
It feels like he’s just got this effect — this intense gaze that makes her tummy swirl. It’s not innately an odd shift, going from this entirely professional discourse to soft touches roaming up her sides once they’re in the bedroom. 
It’s the setting for their shoot, and she finds that he’s already got a camera set up on his dresser. One of those that opens up and has a little screen piece that swivels to show what’s currently recording. Harry trails over to it, toggles with the little screen, and, she assumes, begins recording. 
There’s a shag rug by the bed in cream. Y/N eyes it as Harry tugs his shirt over his head, as he makes his way over. Tiger is fire hot, but his touch skims her arm like testing the waters at first. His palms cups her face, the pads of his fingers grazing the sides of her neck, close to her nape, and then his cushiony mouth finds her own. That’s testing at first, too. It’s not a chaste, innocent first kiss by any means, but his mouth is gentle, at first. His hands aren’t hard, and his mouth slots against her own with a kind of tenderness. When her fingers tease up at his waistband, fingering at a warm line of skin between his sweats and his t-shirt, his mouth morphs hungrier. 
“Just—“ Y/N manages between searing kisses as his fingers work the seams of her shirt apart through button-work, “—-jumping right into it, huh?” It’s probably not the sexiest thing to say from the get go of the camera rolling, but she’s honestly still got bits of nerves coiling up in her. This is RideTheTiger. This is happening. She’s going to fuck RideTheTiger. 
Another short kiss, this one she can feel the cushiony pink of his mouth curving up into. 
“Sorry,” Harry amends against her mouth, lips ghosting wetly against her cupid's bow, and the word sounds sort of amused.
And then he’s manually spinning her and marching her over to the dresser, where the camera is set up, her stumbling, rushed gait steadied by the firm press of his thighs from behind as he walks her, colossal hands cupped over her arms. 
“This—” he starts, an introduction blatantly made for the lens, and her pulse stutters when his palm slides up and across and cups over her throat warmly — not quite squeezing, but just there. His other hand explores the expanse of her silhouette from the waist down, pads of his fingers roaming over her tummy, “—is the infamously naughty Birdie.” 
Her veins thrum with something, something hot when the ringed digits traipse to the button of her jeans, just looming over. 
“Can I take these off?” Harry murmurs against the shell of her ear. The tips of his curls tickle at her temple, and she knows he asks it low enough that it’s meant for her. She knows the camera will pick up on it anyways, too. 
“Yeah,” the agreement falls out meshed with an exhale, and her head tips back against his shoulder as his fingers do deft, impressively one-handed work at quick discarding. 
The other hand fondles at one of her tits, only covered with fabric for so long before he takes advantage of the opening he’d made along the line of buttons, pulling at one side for the pink polka-dotted cup of her bra to come out on display. This is all very pro-level disrobing. Y/N decides that when Harry multi-tasks, popping the button of her denim through, pinching at the zipper and tugging down, all still with his other hand caressing over padded flesh at her chest. Ultimately, though, both hands make their way to her hips, and his digits wriggle under either side of her waist band to strip her jeans off, until they rest at about an immobilizing mid-thigh, with an unceremonious yank. 
“I’m Tiger,” Harry talks again, finally, after what’d been a silent moment of apparent concentration, his chin ducked into the nook where her shoulder and her neck meet. 
The man’s fingers toy up under the hem of Y/N’s shirt, wandering over a bare sliver of skin between the top and the line of her panties before they climb the buttoned suture and make work there. 
A chill rolls down her spinal cord, stemming all the way from the nape of her neck, the back and underside of her skull, when Harry declares, almost like she’s not even there, his voice a low and heady baritone, “But, she’s going to call me Sir, and we’re gonna play a little rough with her today, because that’s what she asked for.” 
He’s mid her panting ribcage when the tone in his dialogue switches. It melts from sultry and low to something mirthy when the man sighs and huffs against her neck, like the rounded latches are a long-time nemesis, “Buttons, buttons, so many buttons.” 
Y/N can’t curb the surprised laugh that bubbles from her in response. Her hands rise from her sides (where they’d prior been pretty glued, mostly out of awe and the raw sort of submission manhandling incites), and her forearms brush against his own warm skin as the pads of her fingers shakily work over the stitch he’s on. Harry makes an amused sound into her skin as the corners of her mouth curl up. 
This is real. These are the real moments, the ones that she’s ogled so many times from the other side of the screen, caught on camera mid an otherwise entrancing, perfectly choreographed session of picture-perfect fucking. Like the one where he’d spit and it hadn’t landed where he’d wanted it to, or the one where his partner had spent so long in an angle with her hair over her face and his palm cupped over her mouth, that by the time he’d let up she was spitting out stray hair that’d sunk in past her lips, like a cat with a hairball. Soft laughter had bloomed from the both of them when recognition had dawned, and he’d fingered over her tongue to help her as they’d switched positions. It makes sense why Harry never seems to edit those moments out. 
Authenticity. 
Y/N hopes he doesn’t cut this fragment of the video out. 
“Sorry,” the young woman tells him, her voice garbled with giggles. 
His hands snake up from under her own and they’re the one to pop the final button through. A chilly ring brushes the inside of her wrist. The top separates. 
“There we go,” Harry says, tone colored with enthusiasm, and the way his fingers grip up under the cups of her bra, four for each, and tug abruptly, letting them rest under her freshly-bared tits, kind of, sort of gives her whiplash. 
“Teamwork,” his thumbs slip under either side of her underwear and slink those down until just enough is showing for the eye of the lens. 
Her gaze flits to the viewfinder, and the little icon of her denuded silhouette, pressed up against his chest, one swarthy, inked arm tucked over her ribcage and the sight of his other, ringed digits skimming lower, down her tummy, has her squirming in his grasp. Harry sponges kisses to the side of her neck, and then those ring-clad fingers slide between her legs. Every melty muscle in his arms grows wide awake and tensed like fucking stone. It’s only for a second, before he draws his index and his middle digit, splayed into a blissful V, across either side of her clit. That’s when she liquefies like putty in his hands again, humming softly. 
“…And we’re gonna play with her arse,” Harry tacks on for the camera, almost like it’s an offhand afterthought and not the entire basis of the scene they’ve etched out. 
Y/N laughs, but it melts off into something soft and whimpery when the V lingers and drags. 
“Would you like that?” Harry murmurs, nose tucked into her hair — another comment where the volume implies that it’s obviously meant to be shared between just the two of them — his mouth ghosting over her earlobe and his hand climbing up the ridges of her ribcage like a ladder, “Hm? You want me to play with you there?” 
When his palm expands to rest over the gap between the caging of bone, the space extends out on a breath and she rocks in his touch, hips rolling back subtly. “Mhm.” 
It’s not something he fails to pick up on. The pads of his fingertips expertly toggle at the clasp of her bra — honestly, she’s ludicrously impressed, not only by his keen recognition of the frontal clasp, but this seemingly innate, deft ability to discard clothing pieces with one hand. The straps relax and slip down her shoulders the second the cups fall free and apart. 
“Mhm?” Harry mimics; a low, teasing hum. Y/N thinks then, that this little, patronizing repetition thing he’s got going on could be categorized as a kink in and of itself. 
The palm that’d settled over her diaphragm slinks up to grope at one of her tits. 
It’s kind of game over from there. 
There’s something hard and solid digging into the small of her back, and the longer he spends fondling between her thighs, the longer he spends swiping his thumb over her nipple, the more heat teems to her core, like a glowing warmth that seeps and pulses. The more sure Y/N becomes that his fingertips are definitely culling that top coat she’d pictured all along, enhancing the color there with glinting excitement. 
“There’s a good girl,” Harry purrs when her legs spread a smidge more in response, despite the way they’re nearly glued together with the immobilizing squeeze of her waistband resting mid-thigh. 
The tip of his nose burrows into her hair and grazes at the skin on the side of her neck when his head ducks, fingers sneaking further until the pads press to explore where she’s gushing. His index and his thumb work in tandem to pinch at a nipple and tug. 
And then his tongue licks a practically searing stripe right beside her jugular, and his words send air over wet skin to soothe the flame, “…Getting my fingers all wet, aren’t you?” 
Gameovergameovergameovergameover.
Shelosesshelosesshelosessheloses.
Another burst of air over the wet skin, the soft creak of a chuckle — that’s what reminds her that she’s definitely not breathing. 
Fuck. Y/N sucks in air with a chest tensed like metal armor. His teeth nip over her earlobe. 
And then RideTheTiger slides his slick fingers out from between her legs, coaxing (when she sags in his grip like a marionette that’s had its strings snipped), “Why don’t you give them a little spin and show them the pretty plug you’ve been wearing for me, pet.”
Touch, touch, touch. When Y/N pivots for him, turning her backside to the camera, his mouth brushes the crest of her cheekbone. His warm pecs go flush with her own chest, his palms settle on her love handles and the insides of his rings stipple chills to combat the heat of flesh on flesh. He sponges a kiss to her throat when the young woman throws a glance back to the little screen and shakily presses her palms to the globes of her backside, pulling the flesh there apart to show off the pretty end, silicone petals cradling the shape of a rose. 
That’s when he kneels, cheek pressed to the side of her thigh, when he casts his gaze to the plug with that telltale furrow to his brow bone that she’s seen caught on camera so many times. That’s when his teeth burrow into the pillow of his bottom lip, when he brushes a nearly tentative touch over the plug with the tips of his fingers. That’s when Harry nudges at it and jade bounces from the pallid pink plastic to the shape of her jawline tensing above in response, mouth growing mirthy. 
Nothing prepares her for the way he praises, almost like he’s in awe (and nearly too low for the camera to catch), “So pretty.”
A crease works in between her own eyebrows when his index and his thumb pinch over the plug and twist. And then he lays his thumb over the base and pushes, lightly, as if it can go any further. He draws the pad of his index over the hilt of the plug almost thoughtfully, and then tap-taps in a pair of two that makes her roll her lips into her mouth
“Don’t move,” Harry instructs, after a moment, sneaky, devious fingertips withdrawing altogether. She’s holding her breath again. Y/N readjusts her grip. 
“Just like that,” comes his croon from below, undeniably heady and entirely responsible for the warmth churning between her thighs, “…Just like that, little bird. Show it off, baby.” 
Little bird hits her like a fucking freight train. 
It’s just a play on words, a moniker he’s melded from her stage name, her online personality. It’s been all of, maybe, six minutes — a generous consideration for the timeframe — and he’s already managed to morph her porno pseudonym into a pet name with his soft murmur. 
She’s so focused on the ironic way that such a delicate thing off his tongue makes something so violently carnal stir within her that the young woman doesn’t even notice that he’s been sat near her thighs for a solid second, unspeaking and untouching, besides the paste of his warm cheek beside the press of her hands. 
It’s a suspiciously mischievous sort of silence, but Tiger is no secret-keeper, not when he pats over the back of her leg, a one-tap gesture, and rises to announce, one third amused and two-thirds smug, “Thumbnail.”
The admission is so crude and unexpected that it draws a peal of sputtering laughter from her, feigned indignation meshing with mirth as he rises from the floor, all cocky with an unfairly alluring curl that’s strayed from the rest and flopped to lay over his forehead. 
“You want to use my ass as your thumbnail?” 
Muted raspberry breaks its relaxed line to curve up, obviously self-satisfied and obviously unashamed. Y/N doesn’t think she’ll ever quite keep up with the casual nature of Harry’s mannerisms, not when he hums and his grin splits further, twisting around her to daub her jaw with a kiss.
“…And not my pretty face?” Y/N blinks.
“Last I checked—'' Harry tells her, fingers raking through her roots and palm cradling at her scalp in a way that coaxes chills to bud and roam down the nape of her neck. The digits twist her hair into a bun until his palm is squeezing at her hair all bunched like a flower blooming in reverse, “—You were here to be used and abused, per your request. Not to ask questions.” 
Despite the way he cranes her neck back with the motion, the way it has her jaw unlatching and a surprised exhale full of want escaping, despite the way he drags his teeth down her neck in a line, nipping, Y/N manages to keep her voice impressively even. 
“You don’t want my pretty face painted with your cum as the thumbnail?” she baits, throat bobbing on a swallow. 
He bites. 
At first, his lashline narrows a smidge in obvious inkling that the brazen words have affected him, but then he tips his head and his smug beam morphs more sluggish, more pleased than amused. 
“You want my cum painting your pretty face?” 
“Mm,” Y/N hums in agreement when he turns her head to paste a kiss to the corner of her mouth. 
“Yeah? That’s what you want?” 
His tone is suggestive as he manhandles her over onto the fuzzy rug she’d admired before things got all murky with arousal and …cinematic. Y/N twists in his grasp until he’s nudging her onto her knees with his hands. 
And his voice is low, easy like a sigh, each note interlaced with nonchalance and seemingly effortless power, “Let’s see how good you suck cock.”
Before Harry shoves his waistband down, though, he stuffs a hand into his pocket and culls his phone. He gives her this look down from behind it, thumb tucked behind gray elastic.  It’s this wordless, expressionless sort of seeking; all good? Y/N nudges with her chin, lashes fluttering. Tiger toggles over the screen one-handed, and her eyes flit to the uneven pull at his sweats — if only for a second — that showcases bare skin and the cut of a V-line on one side. As he nudges the sweats off to rest under his balls, the phone pings. It’s the sound of a notification — he’s recording. 
His dick is pretty. Pretty in pink with a prominent vein on the underside and a soft dusting of neatly trimmed, dark pubic hair over his pelvic bone that his happy trail had foreshadowed, and his tip is a ruddy shade that matches the tint of his mouth. She’s seen his cock before, obviously, but ogling it in person rather than as a conglomeration of pixels is a different sort of experience. He’s always looked big on screen, the sheer size of him with a fist over his shaft always implying it. But he’s big. Big enough for two of her hands to cradle over his cock comfortably with the head peeking out from her grip, digits never quite meeting in the middle. Y/N spits into a palm before wrapping it over his shaft, eyes flickering up front under her lashes to meet the lens of the camera. 
“You’re so big,” the young woman admits after a moment, irises bouncing from her grip to the phone looming over, and she drags her tongue over her other palm to cup over him with two like it’s proof. 
And Harry strokes over the side of her scalp, almost like he’s wordlessly scratching a dog’s ears in praise, a soft, pleased huff escaping through his nostrils and his lips shaping over a smug sort of beam that never really unseals. 
Almost tentatively, with her eyes still bouncing from the lens to his cock and back, Y/N leans forward and drags his tip over her tongue. Harry sighs in response, fingertips still hovering at her roots. She purses her lips and lets saliva dribble from her mouth onto his head messily, swiping over the wetness with her thumb, and then she strokes down his shaft with two hands as she wraps her lips over him and draws a circle with her tongue. The subtle, although sharp, inhale she earns in response to the motion has her batting her lashes up at the camera.  
“You’re not shy at all, are you? Not in front of the camera,” Harry says after a moment. 
He’s so obviously bridling a hiss when she drags her tongue up under his leaky tip, his front teeth lodging into the pillow of his bottom lip and brows furrowing. Despite the phone cradled over her face, the young woman still has enough room to observe his. Y/N bats her lashes coyly, pupils flitting back to the camera as her mouth opens to showcase the view of her hands working in gentle twists while she drags his cockhead over her tastebuds. 
“…No, you’re not that shy, little girl that you were in the cafe at all.”
She seals her lips over his tip, hollows her cheeks, and hums. 
“…All prim and proper,” the fingertips that’d scraped over the side of her scalp trail to the back of her head, “…Didn’t even wanna say you liked cum dripping out of you. Didn’t wanna let everyone know that you’re a little anal whore.” 
The words coax her to clench over the plug. 
“…S’okay, baby,” Harry tells her after a moment, “I like that you’re a whore on camera for me,”and then the hand that’d cradled over the back of her skull encourages her own palm to slowly unwrap and fall away as he curls it over his shaft to guide it’s aim. 
Y/N pulls off, and Tiger smears the tip over her spit-slicked, swollen mouth. It parts, and Harry traces over the open seam of her lips like he’s applying lip gloss. 
“Please,” the young woman says, mouthing over his tip, almost inaudible. 
“Hm?” 
“Please,” Y/N repeats, and the drag of his tip slides over her bottom lip on the s. 
Harry inhales from above. He doesn’t immediately give her what she wants, instead opting to draw over her cupid’s bow as he tips his head, voice quiet and still somehow full of a dominant edge. “So polite. You wanna taste more of my cock?” 
The young woman nods, eyes tipped up, and he smears his cockhead over her mouth again. Harry’s teeth nudge into the plush of his bottom lip before he directs, “Stick your tongue out for me. I’ll give you a little taste.” 
And he does. He grazes her tongue with it the moment it’s on show, basking in her soft breaths puffing out against him and the sweet sight of her gaze, unwavering. 
“S’that good?” Harry asks, mouth curling at the (currently) brazenly lewd young woman at his feet, “What you wanted?” 
And she just nods up at him. Despite the way she wants more, the way she wants to close her lips around him and keep twisting her grasp to watch his seams split in ecstacy, Y/N motions lightly with her head. A little sound escapes the back of her throat when he drags the tip of his cock back over her top lip and sighs. 
“You really are such a little whore, aren’t you?” Harry says, tracing along the open seam of her lips with the tip and dragging it over her tongue again, “Give me a pretty smile. Show me just how much you like it.“ 
His words melt off into a rumbly hum when, as he draws over the border of her bottom lip and takes his cock off her tongue, her pretty teeth slowly seep shut and the corners of her mouth form something absolutely overjoyed. Her head cocks, and she grins up at him. All innocuous too, if it weren’t for the head of a cock smearing over the edges of her smile. His thumb slinks out from the hold he’s got over his dick to graze with the pad at the shiny white of her top teeth. 
“Good girl.”
Somewhere around there is when her teeth part and his thumb mingles onto her tongue. Then, the young woman wraps her lips over the digit and sucks. The tension of her cheeks hollowing over his finger in the silence is cut short with a ping — Harry turns the camera off and flings the phone somewhere in the direction of the bed. There’s no definitive thump behind her, so Y/N assumes the man makes it. She hums and pulls off of the digit with a pop and a giggle. 
Dimples pluck alive beside his smile. “Something funny?” 
“No,” the young woman clears her throat, the apples of her cheeks still emphasized and round with her apparent amusement, “Nothing. It’s just.” She blinks up at him, “…Surreal, sort of. Your dick’s just as pretty in person as it is on camera.”
Tiger cocks his head and swipes over her bottom lip with the tip of said dick. She’s quite good at stroking his ego. 
“Thanks. That’s sweet, darling.”  
A furrow works between his brows as her tongue peeks out to daub at the lingering head. “You watch a lot of my videos?” 
And the admission comes almost hungry, with no remorse, “Mm. Touch myself to them.” 
That’s when his brows crease more, when heat swells down through the trench of his tummy and teems up the underside of his balls, where they drive taut at the words. 
“Christ.”
Blown jade bouncing from her lips to the contact of her own eyes and back. Eventually, he swallows and directs, “Tongue out.” 
When she displays it for him, jaw wide, those shambles splinters of composure seemingly fuse. The Harry that emerges nearly gives her whiplash. 
“You touch yourself to my videos?” Harry coos, and the words are coated with so much condescension that Y/N is sure she’d be humiliated in any other circumstance. 
Her tongue twitches under his cockhead. The man looming over swipes that same, leaky tip over her taste buds, and his grin broadens into something like a borderline sadistic Cheshire cat. And then he’s leaning over a smidge, cock still angled over her outstretched tongue, opposite hand fondling under that, at her jaw, and squeezing at her cheeks. 
“That is so—“ emphasizing the words with the slap of his tip against her tongue, Harry grits out, “—fucking—“ another tap that has her uselessly lolled tongue jolting and a garbled little sound wresting from the back of her throat, “—cute.”
Y/N blinks up at him, one hand uncurling slowly and falling away as he nudges the back of her head to swallow more of him in past her lips. 
“Why don’t you use that hand and play with your little clit for me? The way you do when you’re watching me.” 
She makes a muffled noise around him as he sinks in further, and her hand traipses between her poorly, poorly splayed thighs. 
“That’s it,” Harry murmurs, though whether the praise is directed at the way the tips of her fingers pry between her legs or the way she blinks wetly over his cock as she takes more of him into her mouth, Y/N is unsure. “There’s a good girl. Look at me— yeah. Fuck.” 
He holds onto either side of her head, long fingers splaying over her skull, and the young woman splutters when his tip prods at the back of her throat and teases at her gag reflex. The tip of her nose grazes his happy trail, so all in all, it’s a solid effort in one go. Harry holds her there for a moment, relishing in the squeeze of her throat over him as she fights sputtering more, and a throaty groan rips from his vocal chords before his fingers tangle into her hair. That’s when he yanks her off. 
Her chest is already rolling in pants, and the way his palm collides with the fleshy area of her cheek nearly launches her lightheaded headspace into overload. The blow isn’t loud, and it doesn’t really hurt, but he does it a second time, palm grazing over the same fragment of skin. It’s the hand that doesn’t have any rings, and Y/N’s mouth curls up in borderline delirious bliss, teeth unsealed and lips swollen and saliva-daubed. Tiger coaxes a moan when he goes for it a third time. But this time, his hand snakes to palm over the column of her throat and squeeze.
“Fuck, you’re filthy,” Harry tells her, thumb cruising over an inch of skin, “Such a slut for it.”
Her pulse thunders under his grasp. It’s almost like his touch pries the nearly animalistic giggle off her lips. She’s still beaming open-mouthed, and her voice is raw when she beckons, “Yeah—“
And then there’s a ragged gasp and subdued sort of gag, coated with surprise, when Tiger nudges her face forward and unceremoniously shoves his dick back down her throat, his brows pinched.  
“Get that mouth back on my cock.” 
Her hands find his thighs, just wavering over them, curling and unflexing as her eyes squeeze shut. 
“Don’t close your eyes. Look up at me. Look up at me— there you go,” Harry cooes when, despite every instinct that coaxes every muscle in her face to clench and tense, Y/N follows his directions and blinks up at him through a watery sheen. “Shit.”
And then he’s hauling her off and she’s gasping for breath, only for a short moment before he slides back past her jaw until her chin is flush with his sac and he’s pulsing in the warm confines of her mouth. Her lashes flutter. A devious kind of laugh bubbles from him, breathy, and low, and short when the heels of her palms press into the sturdy muscle beneath his laurels. Except this time he doesn’t yank her all the way off for a third time. He holds her there for a second, swearing softly at the view, and then tugs her off until his tip’s on her tongue and pumps back in. It’s a subtle motion — testing, like he’s observing her reaction, really assessing her comfort levels with this. He does it a few more times, as gentle of a motion as it really can be until she squints her eyes shut and muzzles a cough, blinking up at him rapidly through the blur. 
Harry swipes a thumb under her eye, where a rivulet leaks, praising almost in a whisper as she practically vibrates at his feet, “That’s it.” 
Another second to gasp in air, and then he’s fucking her mouth, brushing her gag reflex with every drive forward and every pump out. Y/N sort of loses herself in it — in the fingertips burrowing into her roots, in the huffs and groans that escape him, in the warm muscle beneath her touch, in the way his dick slides down her throat. It’s quite nice. RideTheTiger is fucking her mouth, and it’s nice.
“Look at you,” Harry hums after a while, the hold on the back of her head firm, and she blinks at him all teary-eyed, gagging around him as her chin presses flush with his balls. “So sloppy. Made my nice joggers all wet.” 
Drool pools down her chin, and strings of it dangle from his balls and sully the fabric further. She bats her lashes up at him, and tears slink off from her waterline. Her fingers flex and relax over his thigh, never quite loosening the tension there fully. The man swipes the thumb on his free hand under her eye, where inky black has smudged off from her lashes, and the lewd, left corner of his mouth tips up lopsidedly. 
“You’re such a pretty girl when you’re making a mess,” and then, to nail the demeaning compliment home with the most heady, joyfully smug tone, “Yes you are, little bird.”
His sluggish grin morphs into a borderline pornographic lip-bite then, and he cranes his neck back with a throaty hum, fingers tensing and relaxing, before his digits ultimately tighten in her hair and coax the young woman off. She coughs like she hasn’t breathed in ages, 
Y/N doesn’t know how she gets up to her feet. It’s a lightheaded clamber, coaxed by Harry’s fingers tugging at her hair, his hand on her arm, his definitive, “Get up.” Somehow, though, she manages, despite the fact that her jeans are still half-on, and Harry steadies her and makes her dizzy all at once when his mouth presses hungrily to hers. One hand cradles the side of her neck and the other braces her at the hip. It’s a heated kiss, like Tiger doesn’t mind that her chin is coated with spit, or that the same spit smears over his own jaw as their mouths connect. Y/N nearly trips over her own feet as he walks her, backwards, into the general direction of the bed. The mattress meets the backs of her knees and his hand (which has, since settling on her hip, mingled up her side and cupped over one of her tits) sends her toppling back against the sheets. Harry nearly snickers at her look of indignation. Instead though, he tucks his fingers up under her half-down denim and tugs until her pants are off and she finally, finally has the ability to spread her legs. He tosses those onto the rug, and Y/N watches Harry finish disrobing, kicking the gray sweats into a rumpled pile beside her jeans. 
The camera is still rolling on the dresser, and it’ll keep rolling. It’ll keep rolling when he sinks his face between her thighs, it’ll keep rolling when he pulls the plug out and nudges his fingers in, when he slips his cock into her cunt and then, eventually, switches to her other hole. Or maybe it’ll go in an all different order. Tiger cradles her by the hips and repositions her roughly. The lens doesn’t catch the way she’s all shimmery between her legs with want from its angle, but Harry does, eyes glued there as his fingertips trail featherlight up her thigh and back down. 
A crease works in between his brows like he’s contemplating something, and then he pats the same fragment of flesh he’d been caressing and instructs, “Flip over.” 
Y/N tips over to her side and then rolls onto her tummy, but when she clambers onto her hands and knees Harry beckons, “Where are you going, little bird?” He sighs, warm palm grasping over her ankle and yanking her back towards the edge of the bed, just until Y/N is splayed and forced to shimmy her way back into a pretty arch. “Hm?” 
His hand is still gripped over the joint when the other climbs up the back of her naked thigh, skin on skin petting softly there. “Where are you going, little girl?”  
She’s going to implode. She nearly does when his colossal palms cup either cheek of her backside and spread. He hums like he’s pleased. 
“Which hole should I fuck first…” Harry ponders aloud from behind, but it all feels sort of rhetorical when he nudges over her tightest, little hole, pressing like he’s teasing a breach with the tip of his digit. 
She thinks he must be using his other hand, too, because the pad of his thumb drives a circle over her puffy, spit-slicked clit. The ring of muscle flutters. 
“…Hm?”
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fluffylino · 4 months
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hyunjin takes charge when you feel down. (very soft i promise)
-contains mature themes
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he was cuddled up by your side.
hidden under the sheets. head resting on your chest. while you scrolled through your phone. his index finger tracing your hip lazily.
your eyes glued to your phone. if you looked at hyunjin you'd probably end up crying. he loved you so much. even more than yourself. you'd look at him and feel like it was only the two of you.
he looked up at you, inches away from your face. letting out a small sound for you to look.
"mhm?" you hummed, smiling a little at how dazed he looked.
eyes soft and lips jutting out into a pout. you pecked him. a small smile appearing on his face. nudging his nose against your cheek.
you could feel his eyes on you. the reel you were watching making you giggle. until you felt that sadness within you disappear.
what were you even doing with your life? everything was becoming too much. you weren't living life. you were surviving.
"mommy" hyunjin mumbled, hiding his face in your chest.
breaking you out of your thoughts. you weren't feeling like yourself. you wanted to be taken care of. today.
you were vulnerable.
heart aching with tiredness. you hummed, holding your phone with one hand. using your right hand to stroke his head. untangling a few strands carefully.
"can i?"
how could you deny him when he asked so softly. voice stuck in his throat. you nodded. letting him slowly push your shirt up.
a small whine leaving him at the sight.
laying back down. mouthing at your exposed chest. his other hand coming up to hold your right boob. tongue laving over your hardening nub. you sighed. finally keeping your phone down.
all his attention on you.
"hard" he whispered. very carefully grinding his covered length against your thigh that was slotted there.
"j-jinnie" you whimpered. mind going fuzzy.
you missed him. even though he was so close. you wanted him closer. feeling extra submissive. his face lifting up to look at you with such kind eyes. you felt like you were going to start crying.
he seemed to understand.
he always understood.
"daddy will take care of you" he reassured, moving upwards to kiss you. holding your face as tears fell down.
kissing them away as you closed your eyes. all your worries sinking away.
"s-sorry" you whispered. what if he wanted you to take care of him.
"nothing to be sorry about, my love" he mumbled against your lips.
"tell me what you want"
you didn't know what you wanted from him. you wanted all of him. seeing him satisfied made you feel better.
"jerk you off?" you asked.
closing your eyes while he wiped your tears away with his thumbs. he hummed, shuffling around so he could still hold you.
his leg thrown over your waist. pulling his pants down just enough.
you watched silently. his length slipping out. tip rubbing against the side of your thigh.
you hadn't even realised you zoned out. that was until he gently held your hand.
making you wrap your fingers around his cock. his own hand engulfing yours as he guided your movements.
starting off slow. with long strokes.
"you did well today baby" laying soft kisses to your neck.
"ah- so proud of you" you let yourself sink into his grasp. your hold on his dick getting more firm. pumping him more eagerly.
you puckered your lips, wanting him to kiss you till you couldn't breathe. and so he did. lips pressed against yours.
intentionally you swiped your thumb over his sensitive head, precum wetting it.
"d-don't tease, my love" you stopped your tricks, letting him enjoy.
"you're my beautiful s-smart baby" you whined, pulling away to look at where you were pumping him. his own hand next to yours.
so much bigger.
"want my fingers?" you shook your head, keeping your mouth open. as he moved his hand off his dick. now you were in charge of making him cum. his index and middle finger sliding right in.
you moaned at the feeling of his digits.
"want me to cum all over your stomach?" you nodded, ignoring the drool that had dripped down his wrist.
your grip on him growing tighter as you stroked him fast. breathy whines leaving his lips. he was getting so close. you knew it. you could feel it from the way his dick throbbed in your hand. his hips moving unconciously to match your pace.
he gradually sat up. nipping at your stomach. eyes shut tight.
it all happened so fast. his cum spurting out over you. staining you.
riding out his orgasm. he let out a heavy breath, leaning down to lick his cum off of you. before kissing you. groaning at the taste of him.
"mommy did so well"
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centaurisolarflare · 1 year
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König NSFW Headcannons
It’s the quiet ones; it’s always the quiet ones. NSFW, obviously, minors DNI (SFW headcannons here). A lot of x reader babbling because I am down horrendous for this man. Again, this got incredibly out of hand, and I needed to just stop. Enjoy the filth, my loves.
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- I wholeheartedly believe this man is amazing at foreplay. Maybe it’s inadvertent, but he wants to experience as much of you as he can for as long as he can. He loves just kissing you and feeling your body move against his, he wants the time to trace over every inch of you. He’s fascinated by the way your muscles and bones move under your skin and he loves mapping out any freckles/moles/marks/scars/etc you have.
- Treats sex like a skill, something he can hone, something he will make himself good at it for you. He catalogs your responses, memorizes your facial expressions, and takes careful note of how each touch affects you. He wants to be deliberate about how he makes you feel; he puts so much effort into learning how your body reacts to him until he’s an expert at taking you apart piece by piece.
- Praise this man. Do it. All the time. Tell him how good he’s doing, how sweet he is, how good he makes you feel, how beautiful he looks. He’ll blush and duck his head, but he thrives on your words.
        -- He’ll whine when you grab his jaw and make him look at you. Make him repeat your praise back to you, make him say that he’s so pretty, that he’s such a good boy, make him say he’s yours and yours alone. Make him stumble through the compliments and clench around him when he’s nearly got the words out properly; laugh when he cuts himself off with a gasp and moans and flexes his fingers into your skin, and make him say the praise again.
- Marks. He wants them and wants to give them. He wants dark bruises that are impossible for him to ignore with the way they ache every time he moves his neck. He wants bite marks everywhere and he wants scratches on his back and arms. He doesn’t mind if you make him bleed with your nails or teeth; he wants to keep the stinging feeling for as long as possible. Definitely the type to press his fingers hard against his bruises to feel them hurt and to make them stay longer. When they eventually do fade, he wants you to give him new ones immediately. If you want marks too, he’ll go just as feral on you.
        -- Can’t think straight when you unabashedly show off the marks he gave you. Because he knew he was doing then, he knew there’d be marks when he was sucking and biting at your skin again and again. He knew there’d be bruises where he held onto you a little too hard. But you’d moaned so sweet and told him to keep going, to cover you, and how could he have refused? Now, in the light of day, in public, with people around, he can’t help but flinch at the openness you share them with the world. Because people see. Fuck, people stare at the patchwork of mottled bruises and aggravated blood vessels on your neck, your chest, your collar bones. At the line of dark hickeys stretching from just below your ear, down the beautiful line of your throat, across your chest to where they disappear under your shirt. At the clear shape of his fingertips bruised into your hip when your shirt rides up as you reach for something – something you didn’t even have to reach for because he’s right here and the size of a fucking mountain. You just grin and wink when he puts a hand on your side and grabs the thing for you, and he goes beet red because that’s- that’s how you got that bruise in the first place, from his hand sprawled out against you, fingers gripping into your soft flesh, and his head is fuzzy with it as he snatches his hand back. And you go about your business cool as can be, as if you’re totally unaware of the people around and what you’re doing to him. You’re in a grocery store for fucks sake. It’s agonizing and he’s so conflicted because he’s so antsy about the attention, but he also just wants to mark you up even more. People see and they see you with him and they know. They know he did that to you; they know you let him do that to you. They know, and he feels half wild with it, a little drunk with how they know you’re his because you’re showing them you’re his.
        -- He likes giving you hickeys even in non-sexual situations too – for example, if you’re sitting in his lap reading, he’s got his nose pressed against your neck and he’s mouthing at the side of your throat and across your shoulders, and you just end up with several bruises sucked into your skin. He just really likes doing it.
- Before being involved with you he actively tried to ignore his body. Being so tall and imposing served him well for his jobs in the military, and his muscles were a product of maintaining that use, but outside of work his build was just something that drew more unwanted attention to him. The first time you got his shirt off you took a stunned moment to step back and sweep your eyes over him, and he was immediately on edge. The nervous feeling, the anticipation of your disapproval, half dissipated when you locked your bright eyes on his with a sharp grin and yanked him down into a hungry kiss.
        -- The first time you saw his cock he would have laughed – if he weren’t so nervous – at the wide-eyed, parted-lips look you gave him. He jumped in surprise when you took him in your hand and groaned at the feel of him. He timidly asked if you were alright and nearly laughed again when you rushed out a breathless string of “König there’s no fucking way you think this is average, I’m going to kill you if you think this is normal, I’m literally going to sue if you’re unaware of how fucking big you are, fuck”. He didn’t respond verbally, but shrugged his shoulders as if to say, “how should I have known?” and does start smiling at your incredulous grumbling. Nothing had prepared him for the dark stab of heat through his gut when you looked your pretty eyes up at him and said, with all the earnest sincerity in the world, “You’re gonna split me in half, big boy; I’m gonna feel you for days.”
        -- Now he can’t get enough of watching your face as he pushes his cock into you. The way you whine as he guides your hips down. He is mesmerized by the visible bulge in your stomach when he’s all the way inside of you, watching it reappear each time he sinks into you – he pressed his palm flat down on it for the first time and nearly came right then and there when you choked out the most pathetic, keening noise he’s ever heard and scrabbled to grab at his biceps.
        -- Fucks you against the wall, holding you up with his hands tight on your waist, sliding you down on his cock like you’re a fucking toy, listening to your punched out gasps each time he fills you.
        -- He loves how he has to take his time getting even his fingers inside you.
        -- Loves how he can easily hold both of your wrists in one hand and how large his hands look against your body
        -- Loves when you’re on top and you settle into his lap, gasping for air because you swear you can feel him in your fucking throat, panting against his neck about how big he is. When you push his shoulders down and splay your fingers out across his abdomen and bounce in his lap. When you make him hold his arms above his head – looking down at him as you take his cock again and again – telling him how good he is, how pretty he looks letting you use him, the stuttered “y-yes ma’am” he manages to choke out when you ask him point blank if he likes getting used like this, if he’d let you ride him until you’re satiated but he’s still hard and aching.
        -- Fucked you in front of a mirror – both of you on your knees, you in front of him between his thighs, with one of his arms banded across your stomach, his hand covering your hip, and the other up around your throat with his forearm pressed against your chest – and, fuck, it nearly ruined him to see how his body dwarfed yours. He held you tight against his chest, occasionally ducking his head down to suck busies into your throat and shoulders, but he mostly made you keep your eyes on him through the mirror. Watched the way your breath hitched as he fucked into you, the way you wanted to crumple forwards when he snaked his hand down between your legs but the other hand around your throat kept you upright, murmuring against your ear about how beautiful you are and how you take him so well.  
- All the above size kink shenanigans being said, he won’t fuck you until you’re ready for it. No matter how desperate you are, how much you beg him to just put his cock in you already, he won’t. Not until he’s worked you open with his fingers and tongue and he’s absolutely sure he won’t hurt you. He furrows his brows with this cute little frown when you beg him and promise you’ll be fine, like he can’t believe how desperate you are for his cock, and tells you how “no, you are not supposed to be this tight, it will not feel good for you, let me relax you, let me make you feel good”
        -- And on that note, he loves you absolutely dripping for him. Slick and hot and already sensitive. He wants you close to crying for it by the time he pushes his cock into you.
- He will shove his fingers in your mouth and press down on your tongue as he fucks you.
- He fucking loves eating you out. Like to an obsessive degree. He’s gotten so damn good at it that it’s impossible to say no. Sometimes when his mind is too busy and too fast, he just wants to lick into you until all he can focus on is how you taste, your hands tugging at his hair, and the sweet noises you make for him. He’s gotten off so many times rutting against the sheets just from having his head between your thighs; the first time it happened he was so embarrassed, and you were just stunned and amazed that he came practically untouched from how much he enjoyed pleasuring you like that, you had to reassure him that you weren’t mad or disappointed and he got so sheepish when you explained exactly how hot it was.
        -- This man wants you to sit on his face so fucking badly but he’s too shy to say anything. The moment you bring it up or ask him about it he is hauling you up his body, desperate to get his mouth on you. Doesn’t let you hover, he wraps his arms up around your legs, fingers digging into the soft flesh on the inside of your thighs, and pulls you down until you settle your full weight on him. Eats like he’s fucking starved, cannot get enough of the taste of you. He’ll watch you the whole time he does it, starring up at you with such a blaze in his eyes that it’s honestly a little frightening, he’s so intense about it but he just doesn’t want to miss any of how beautifully your body shakes for him. You’re reminded of his sheer strength when he won’t let you up; he doesn’t even bother with words, he just makes a dissatisfied noise against you and seals you down with an iron grip. You’ll literally have to be crying from overstimulation and yanking at his hair to get him to take his fucking mouth off you.
- I think he’d prefer to give you oral but of course he loves when you suck him off, seeing you look up at him through your lashes and wrap your pretty lips around his cock. Loves watching you struggle to take as much of him as you can.
        -- When you first started giving him blowjobs, he had no idea what to do with his hands and even when you told him he could touch and even pull your hair he was so afraid of hurting you.
        -- Holds your jaw/cheek and hair so gently, even when his hands are shaking and he’s fucking into your mouth. He’s downright ashamed of how much he likes it when you take him too far and gag, how he loves seeing the tears gather in your eyes when you try to take him in your throat.
        -- Loves when you’re mean about it – jerking him off and sucking the head of his cock until he can’t stand it but not letting him cum, popping off him with a filthy wet noise, asking him what’s wrong as he gasps and bucks his hips because you’re rubbing your thumb over his slit and it feels so good but he thinks he’s going to die from it.
- Along that topic, he loves edging and love-hates overstimulation. I think he’s got fantastic stamina so you’ve either got to have him fuck you several times or edge him within an inch of his life. Loves that desperate feeling when you bring him so close to cumming only to back off, over and over again until everything is hazy and all he knows how to do is beg you to let him finish. When you don’t stop after he cums he gets this quick sharp realization that he’s absolutely screwed because it’s too much and now he’s begging you to stop, whimpering and twitching his hips but it’s too much and he’s got tears running down his face and you’re telling him he can cum again.
        -- Overstimulates you all the time because, again, stamina, and because he just fundamentally can’t get enough of you. Loves when you’re shaking, clawing at him and sobbing with these little hiccup gasps, and can barely say anything except his name and “please”
- Okay, okay, I said about how he loves watching you put on makeup. So maybe, maybe, one day he’d let/ask you to put some on him. Just to see how it looks, how it feels to have on. He loves the look of concentration you fix on him the entire time, getting a little bashful when you hold his chin and appraise your work before grabbing something for the next step. When you’re done you sit with him as he looks in the mirror and he’s shocked. He wasn’t sure what he expected from this curiosity, but it isn’t heavy, and he doesn’t look like a clown. He looks… pretty. You’ve made him look soft and delicate, like he deserves the shimmer you’ve put at the corners of his eyes and the faint color on his lips. It twists something equal parts visceral and shameful in his gut, but his cock certainty takes interest in the proceedings when you tell him how beautiful he looks and how he’d look even better with the lip-gloss smeared and the mascara running down his cheeks.
- Another thing I alluded to in my last sfw headcannons list: he’s cum in his pants before. That specific time I was talking about I think would be the first time he ever did it and he was fucking mortified. Like, would have run out of the room had you not been literally in his lap. He’s blushing so badly you can practically feel the heat coming off his face. He’s not even trying to talk; he’s just got his head tilted back with his hands pressed to his face. Mortified. He didn’t mean to. Obviously, he didn’t mean to. But you were so close to him, and you smelled so good, and you were kissing him – licking into his mouth like you wanted to consume him, biting at his lower lip, pulling the collar of his shirt aside so you could mouth and nip at his throat, barely giving him time to breathe. He was so hard it was nearly painful and all any of his senses could pick up on was you and he just. He just came in his fucking pants. And now he feels like he’s going to cry. But you’re speaking to him softly and nudging his hands away from his bright red face and you’re smiling at him. Once he calms down enough for you to convince him that you don’t think he’s pathetic he watches, transfixed, as you skim your fingers over the wet patch on his pants and he full-body shivers at the way you’re looking at him – all heat and predatory intent – and he’s still just trying to wrap his head around the fact that you still want him even after he made such a fool out of himself. It’s definitely not the last time it happens, given how much you like to wind him up, and he gets a little more comfortable with the whole thing as you repeatedly tell him how much you like seeing him lose it.
- While we’re talking about cumming, he loves to cum inside you. He buries himself as deep as possible, which is pretty fuckin’ deep, and stays pressed as close as he can the entire time he cums. Then he pulls out and holds your thighs apart with bruising strength and just watches you twitch as his cum leaks out of you. He fucking groans at the sight like you’ve pulled the sound out of his lungs. He’ll push it back into you with his fingers just to watch it leak out again.
- Tall man. Well-muscled man. Hmm. He absolutely does the Knee Thing. If you’re making out laying down and he’s half-kneeling, leaning over you with his weight braced on his forearms, he’ll absolutely be slotting his leg between yours, pressing his thigh firmly against you. The first time he does it instinctively, just by nature of being as big as he is and trying to balance above you but also be as close as possible. He’s amazed that you feel so strongly about such a simple action but when you start to buck your hips against his leg, he vows to always do it. Which means he later figures out he can shove his thigh up between your legs while he’s got you backed against a wall; and because he’s so tall he can force you to drop almost all of your weight on him, your toes barely touching the floor as you squirm.
- So, I also think he’d really like thigh-riding. He loves seeing you so desperate and grinding against him, too needy and impatient to do anything else. He loves how you whine and grab his shoulders and try to get the perfect friction. He’ll move you himself, guiding you with his hands gripping your hips. Loves how you react when he flexes the thick, corded muscle against you. Seeing you fall apart like this kind of makes him understand why you like seeing him cum in his pants.
- He is so incredibly careful with you. The very last thing he wants to do is hurt you, he’d never forgive himself. I think one of his limits is he won’t hit/slap you in any form. Even if you’re into it, he can’t shake the sickening feeling that he’d be hurting you so it’s a go-no. He was shaky but vehement when he told you it was just something he couldn’t do.
- I also don’t think he be a fan of any sort of degradation – he wants to be praised and all he wants to do is praise you. He’d never call you any degrading names.
- Loves lazy morning sex and any instance where you two have time to be slow and he can just hold you and kiss you everywhere he can reach.
- He loves tying you up, loves the trust you place in him when you let him restrict your mobility. I think he’d really enjoy shibari (intricate rope bondage). He likes the artistic and technical aspect of the knots; it’s an almost therapeutic process to create different patterns and restraints across your body. He likes how relaxed and calm you get, pliant as he shifts you around, the dopey-eyed looks and lazy smiles and contented hums you give him. He loves the way the rope looks against your skin, and he loves the marks they leave after. He loves the intimacy of tying you up, the intensity of having you tied up, and the returning intimacy of untying you – he murmurs praise to you as he removes the rope, he presses kisses at each place he undoes a knot, rubbing your muscles and soothing the skin that has marks.
        -- I don’t think he’d be particularly into bondage on himself. The most he’d do is a pair of soft leather cuffs, but if he’s ever been captured and tied up or cuffed by an enemy then he will absolutely not like bondage on him.
        -- That being said, I think he absolutely fucking thrives with mental bondage. You tell him to keep his arms at his sides and he will not move them. You tell him to keep his wrists crossed above his head and that’s where they’ll stay until you tell him otherwise. You tell him not to move his hips, to keep his hands on the headboard, to keep his mouth open, you tell him anything and he will do it. It doesn’t matter that you don’t actually have the strength to physically hold him down. It doesn’t matter how needy and desperate he gets, how much he shakes and whines, it doesn’t even matter if he’s crying and begging. He’s disciplined and you told him not to move so he won’t move, not one single inch.
- Aftercare king when he’s the dominant one. At a minimum he makes sure you drink water, gets you your favorite snack, makes sure you communicate how you’re feeling, tells you how good you did and how much he enjoyed you, cleans you up, and will hold you for as long as you want. This man will do anything to make sure you’re comfortable and happy.
        -- When he needs aftercare, he’d particularly need lots of reassurance. He’s always worrying about whether or not he did well with regular sex so for more intense stuff he needs your soothing words even more. I think he’d really like to have you in his lap with his arms locked around your waist and his face buried in your neck, listening to your breathing or you humming, while you rub your hands up and down his back – the soft noise and the repetitive motion grounds him and he likes to be able to smell the lingering perfume and sweat-salt on your neck. He won’t talk right away but eventually you’ll get to verbally check in with him. No matter how long you stay with him he’s always going to be a little grumpy when you tell him you have to get up and get him hydrated and clean.
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planet-dusk · 4 months
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Mirror sex with Hyunjin!! Being able to see his gorgeous face while he fucks you from the back, he's so pretty😩‼️
🏷️ hwang hyunjin x fem!reader. cw ; dom!hyunjin, fuckboy!hyunjin, mirror sex ofc, unprotected sex, dubcon elements, degradation, dirty talk abt forced breeding, pet names: doll, name calling: slut, whore ( 576 w. )
minors dni. for mature audiences only !
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“would you look at that, doll. prettier than any picture.”
he was, of course, referring to the way his cock slid in and out of your slick cunt. his eyes hadn’t left the sight since he’d first buried himself into your tight heat. but your gaze was focused on his face instead: his perfect profile, beautiful features twisted in pleasure.
black strands of hair stuck to his damp skin. if it wasn’t for his large hand pressing down between your shoulder blades you’d attempt to twist around and lick the sharp slant of his jawline.
“filthy slut, letting me hit it raw.” hyunjin punctuated his words with a slap to your ass. you clenched around his cock, every ridge and vein causing delicious friction. you knew he was a fuckboy and you should know better than to have him use you like this… but the memory of his gorgeous face lighting up when he spilled onto your back was enough to throw all care out of the window again.
“bet you wouldn’t even protest if i didn’t pull out.” he wrapped an arm around your torso and lifted you up, your sweaty back pressed against his chest. the change in angle and the risqué suggestion had you gush around him. hyunjin laughed. “i knew it. sluts like you get their brains fucked out once and they turn into cum-hungry whores. what do you think, should i give you what you want?”
“n-no,” you stammered, just lucid enough to know this would be a terrible idea, ignoring the spark of heat in your tummy rearing its ugly head. 
hyunjin hummed and grabbed your chin, tilting your face towards the mirror. 
“do you see my cock? see how wet it is? that’s all on you, doll. you wanted this.”
heat flooded your cheeks at the sight of your bodies tangled together. hyunjin slowed down, pulling out as far as he could. his impressive length glistened with your juices. even if you hadn’t been able to see it the wet sounds would’ve told you enough. you were thoroughly soaking him. 
“hyune, we shouldn’t…“
“we shouldn’t. but we can.”
his hand slipped down to rub circles on your clit, your trembling body fidgeting in his tight grip. for the first time you wished he wasn’t this perceptive. regretted how he could read your body so well. how he left no doubts about feeling your orgasm approaching fast. 
“your mouth’s saying something different than this tight pussy’s telling me.” hyunjin’s hand around your chin moved down to your throat, fingers flexing in time with the fluttering of your cunt around him. “so who’s speaking the truth?” 
“hyun-ah!” you managed to whimper before his fingers found their way into your mouth, effectively silencing your pleading no’s. the twitching of his cock inside you told you he was close, too. it was that thought — the idea of his cum filling you up and leaking down your trembling legs — that pushed you over the edge. 
one, two, three, four thrusts. hyunjin pulled out, white ropes of cum painting your lower back as he stroked himself to completion, your empty pussy clenching around nothing. 
a pang of disappointment rekindled the heat in your gut, embarrassment mixing with the afterglow of your fading orgasm. hyunjin’s dark eyes found yours in the mirror. a smug grin now graced his features and he nipped at your earlobe, his breath hot on your skin. 
“thought so.”
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© planet-dusk do not copy, translate or repost my works.
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marigoldenblooms · 1 month
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An Important Lesson - One-Shot
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Pairing: Professor!Wanda x Fem!Reader (MINORS DNI - 18+)
Prompt: After years of rigorous study, you were nearing the end of your graduate program. Companionship had become a figment of your imagination, until your film professor caught your eye. Taking something from her desk, you hope you could catch hers- and you got more than you bargained for.
MINORS DNI - 18+
Tags: Who is Y/N I don’t know her, Dom!Wanda, Sub!Reader, Porn with plot, teasing, orgasm denial, vibrator use, thigh riding, Mommy kink, Professor kink (sparingly), no aftercare, slight dub-con, dumbification, praise, dom/sub dynamics, power imbalance (professor/student), age gap (Reader is 26 while Wanda is 34), brat taming if you squint. 
A/N: Holy balls, I did not realize smut was so hard to write. Major kudos to all who seem to do it so effortlessly! I know I envy ‘em. This is my first foray into writing this kind of fic (my university’s spring break has brought a lot of writing firsts), so if you have any feedback I’d love to hear it! This is also vaguely proofread! Wanted to do some practice before the evental sex in Unica Sempter Avis (Because USA is certainly an Abbreviation of All Time), and other ideas I’ve got cooking up. I'd love to write another part to this, if y'all would be down! Thanks y'all again!  Edit: An Important Lesson is getting a second part! Read a teaser here! >:)
Word Count: 2.5k - Read length: 9 minutes, 5 seconds.  Pictures aren't mine, credit to their owners! ~~~ 
The pen hadn’t been worth stealing, and yet here you were. 
Professor Maximoff’s classroom was overwhelmingly quiet, dark and empty with familiar rows of tables curved in a half arc around her desk, pushed off to the side. She’d always pace within the front few rows where you sat, and you’d have to crane your neck to keep her in view when you weren’t scribbling down paraphrases of what she said. She taught Advanced Film and Media Critique, which generally lended itself to analyzing the shit out of old TV shows. Maximoff was a difficult professor, but you weren’t looking for easy, especially in your graduate program. After a few years of working your ass off to make enough money, you’d wiped the floor with your bachelors and now you were vying for your masters, in your last few weeks of grad school. And you knew Professor Maximoff liked you, which didn’t make it so bad. 
You knew other things about her too - for instance, there was no way she wasn’t a lesbian. Whenever you’d raise your hand her eyes would snap to you, and you swear her face would curl into a smile that was beyond professional. You’d catch her staring in your direction during exams on multiple occasions (to be fair you did the same when she wasn’t looking, but that’s besides the point), and you swear up and down that she winked at you during your midterm. She’d hold onto your hand a little too long when you turned in papers, and always offered ‘tutoring’ sessions which you humbly declined in the beginning of the semester, your grade being nigh perfect in her course. Between that, the short nails, tailored suits, and the rings- oh, so many rings- there was no way your professor wasn’t gay, and possibly had the hots for you. Your studies had been your priority over companionship for so long,  And now, within a few weeks of your final, why not make a move?
Heist films had been the topic of last week’s lecture, and so nicking something small would be a good segway, right? You’d return it to her tomorrow after class, mention something flirty (perhaps about stealing her heart), and see where it went. If you were lucky, you’d have her number by the end of the course, and perhaps take the older woman to coffee after your final exam. You’d bring her to the movies, but that might turn into more of a lesson than a date. 
As you’d pluck a pen from one of her desk drawers, you notice that it was slightly heavier than most. You clicked it once, then a second time- and nothing happened, so it went into your pockets. You’d move to exit the dim room, before a plaque caught your eye- her degree. It was neatly pressed into its frame: Wanda Maximoff, Masters of Arts in Film and Media Studies. You remembered her mentioning she was working on her doctorate, a proud grin sparking at that. Perhaps you’d get to know more about her dissertation and herself shortly. ------------------------------------------
Class went by faster than most, although it didn’t help that you were anxiously awaiting the end of Professor Maximoff’s lecture. She had worn a trim fitted sleeveless blouse and buttoned pants, both beautiful shades of burgundy. A myriad of gold rings decorating her hands as she’d motion with them through her talk. You’d have to keep your eyes off her fingers, nose deep in notebooks as you’d scramble to collect her words before your incoming final exam. 
“And what is the significance of I Love Lucy’s laugh tracks?” Wanda would ponder aloud before your hand immediately shot up, the lone attempt out of your fifty or so classmates. She’d grin at you, “Yes, dear?” 
You almost forget what you were about to say, holding onto the vestiges of it as you’d sputter, “Oh, uhm- yes, well, I Love Lucy didn’t have laugh tracks, mostly- they were the first sitcom to have a live studio audience.” Her eyes would crinkle with mirth, and you could tell immediately that you had the right answer. You tuned out her words as your mind would swim, thinking back to the weighted pen in your jeans pocket. The pet names were new, settling a joyous fuzz both in your mind and between your legs. It was things like this that had you on the back foot- this was your chance to get her back.
------------------------------------------
“And I’ll see you all in two days,” Wanda would return to her desk, sitting atop it rather than in the chair behind it. One of your classmates had asked why in an icebreaker towards the beginning of the semester, and if you remembered correctly she said ‘Just like the view from up here,’ or the like. If you’d been on the same track mind as now, you probably would have noticed how she stared at you during her spiel, a detail only discovered in hindsight. Now, you had all the pieces. 
You pack up slowly, shimmying your belongings into your overly stuffed bag. Hanging back until there were few students left, you flag her gaze with a hand and an upturned smile, “Professor, I was wondering if I could..” Your words would halt in your throat, thoughts thickened and syrupy as she’d look down to you, head tilted a degree off kilter. Would it be embarrassing to admit you’d never been this close to her before? Her lips would be pursed, but would break into a wild grin, and you felt yourself melt right there. You weren’t a teen anymore goddamnit, focus- “Talk-” you’d squeak, clearing your throat hastily to camouflage the blunder, “Talk with you, after class. Professor.”
Her brows would raise, and you could almost see the cogs rotating in there. Her eyes would dart within the now-empty room, adjusting her position on the desk- and it’d become increasingly obvious (you can deny it no longer) that you were standing directly in between her slightly parted legs. This wasn’t how you were expecting it to go, but here you were. She’d start taking off her rings. “Of course, darling,” she’d tease again with a roughened lilt. Those damn pet names. “What do you need?”
“I think I have something of yours, Professor-” Your mouth would open a few seconds before you’d speak, and you swear she’d smirk at how she had you, devoid of any thought. Something about her had you smiling and kicking your feet, and boy did she know it. Without any further bravado, you’d pull out the pen, “I hate to say it, but I think you’ve stolen-”
“Oh,” She’d breathe, Wanda’s face tinting with a pinkish hue, yet her smile only grew larger. Her gaze would narrow, voice dripping with a sultry air that almost knocked you off balance, “I didn’t let you borrow that, did I?”
“No Professor,” you admit, beginning to launch into your story, before she’d shush you- shush you, words piling up into a lump in your throat. 
“And do you know what it does, darling?” She asks, her tone a breathy whisper now. You swallow, shaking your head no. She fucking giggles. She takes the pen from your hand, clicking it three times, and it’d start to buzz. Oh, my god. It was a fucking vibrator.
“Too dumb to even recognize what this is? And I thought you were so smart..” She’d tease, a flush forming on your face in tandem with a shiver down your body. You open your mouth to speak, and yet her warm, calloused fingers would clasp your jaw shut. “Shhh, don’t want your pretty little head to even think, darling. How about Mommy show you how it works, hm?” 
You’d nod immediately. She’d abandon the toy, clicking it off as her hands would slip beneath your shirt, and it felt like time had frozen. She was so soft, and your mind glazed over. Your breath hitched as she’d trail upward, palming your skin before running her fingers over your bare breasts. You’d watch as Wanda’s pupils would blow in seconds, a devious smile bubbling into view, “No bra?” She’d murmur lowly shaking her head as she’d start to knead your flesh, “Just couldn’t remember it, hm? My precious student, too busy thinking of me to get dressed, were you?” You nod again, a pitiful mewl escaping your throat. 
“Yes- Yes, Professor..” You arch into her touch, although that bliss was short-lived as you feel her dig her hands further into your tits, sharper than you’d like. She’d tsk at your reply, and you look up to meet her eyes- oh, that was the wrong answer. 
“Did you already forget my title, baby?” She’d ask almost tauntingly, her gaze sharpening as she’d shift her hands from your skin. You’d chase her warmth, dazed as your skin would flush and tremble, slotting yourself up against her. She’d run her thumb over your lips, crooning at your immediate submission. She could use that. 
“It seems Mommy has a lot to teach you, dear..” Her touch would ghost across your exposed forearms, her feather-light touches only stuttering your breath further. “And I think you’re ready for your first lesson. Think you can handle that, darling? Keep your eyes on me,” Her hands would dig into your jeans, rougher against the hem’s fabric, “Think you can take this off for Mommy?”
“Please..” You beg, raising your hips to strip yourself bare, your glance trained on her. You don’t miss how her eyes darted down to your bare cunt, having slid off your panties too, or how she licked her lips at the sight of your slick. Her hands would hold your legs open, the cold lecture hall’s air chilling your exposed skin. Still staring at Wanda, you’d discard your shirt in the same breath, her jaw clenching as all of you felt the cool air. Feeling exposed, the urge to flee ebbed away some of your arousal. Were you really about to fuck your professor in her own classroom? Your focus was immediately drawn again as she’d capture your chin in her hand, pulling it harshly to meet her gaze. Her eyes were dilated, a thin sheen of sweat on her brow as she’d pant, both from your disobedience and your thighs rubbing against hers. “Look at me,” she’d hiss, taking your lips into a searing kiss. Your answer? Fuck. Yes.
Your cunt would grind against her leg as Wanda would pull your hips up and onto her thigh, grip bruising as your lips would crash together. You could smell her vanilla perfume as she’d tug at your bottom lip with her teeth, a familiar buzzing sound heard but not registered before you felt it on your clit. “Mommy- yes, Fuckin’ christ, there-” You’d keen, lurching back as Wanda’s hand would rest on your hip, keeping you from escaping her touch.
Wanda would groan at your words, voice a little breathier as her hips would stutter against yours, “There’s my good girl..” Teasingly, she’d circle your clit with the pen-shaped toy, gasping herself as she’d feel the aftershocks of its pulse on her clothed cunt. “Taking Mommy’s toy so well..such a sweet girl for your Professor-” 
You’d rock your hips against her, the friction from her dress slacks and the vibrator’s pulse bringing you to the edge embarrassingly quick. Wanda wouldn’t notice your frenzied breathing or how you lost your rhythm, but she would hear your words; drawn between husky whines, “Mommy, please, I’m so close, fuck-” Your face would flush, legs beginning to tremble before the whole feeling was ripped away from you, Wanda’s grip leaving as the buzz would click off. With shaky breaths, your eyes would rise to meet hers- only to see a teasing grin. She’d pat your arms, gently coaxing you off of her thigh, the few sparks of friction from that not enough to bring you anywhere close to your release. You’d blink, thoughts thickened and reeling, brow furrowed ever so slightly for her- and Wanda loved it. 
“You did so well for your first lesson, dear..” She’d croon, brushing herself off as she’d rise to her feet, leaving you on her cluttered desk. “But, Professor, I didn’t-” You’d begin and she’d silence you right there, hand rising to close your jaw shut again. 
“And you won’t come unless you call me by my title, darling. You’ve received your correction for your first mistake- and for stealing from me,” You nodded slowly, absorbing her words as though they were molasses, and her smile only widened at how dazed she’d made you. “And if you disobey again when you’re with me, alone- then I’ll lower your grade by five points. Understand?” 
If you were in any kind of fog before, you cleared it from your thoughts immediately. “Yes, very clear- uhm,” You pause, noticing the stain on her pant leg where your pussy had ground into the fabric, and you feel your face warm. Wanda would shift her stance and you’d look up- she leaned above you, a single brow raised. You’d swallow, keeping your eyes on her completely, “Yes, Mommy- I understand.”
“Good girl.” That was the right answer. She’d smile at you, her praise going straight to your cunt. Could she not have given you a few more seconds? Maybe you could’ve gotten off without her noticing. She’d interrupt your mind with a quick peck on the lips, and you felt your wits slow, swimming with thoughts of her mouth. Oh, that was why- couldn’t get away with anything if you didn’t think anything at all. Wanda’s grin would only intensify as she’d watch you dress, clothing rumpled from the haste it had been taken off. After a few minutes, you were back to prim and proper..besides your racing heart and flush whenever Wanda so much as moved. “This was great..” You’d murmur, pressing the wrinkles from your shirt, gaze flicking back up to Wanda’s- your professor still watching you with a smooth, secretive smirk. 
“Of course it was, dear..but it’s still nice to hear you say that. Anything for my best student,” She’d wink at you and you’d fold, feeling your palms clam up. Since when were you this weak in the knees? She’d settle at her desk again, her hands clasped together on its wooden grain. You’d be taller than her now, with her sitting down- and yet there was an aura she commanded that you couldn’t outdo. You turn to leave without any further fanfare but her voice would seize you again, just as warm as her touch. “I’ll be expecting you after tomorrow’s classes, then? I think some…after-hours remedial work for my course would do you well.” 
Were you really about to fuck your professor in her own classroom, again? You’d leave her hall with a bright smile, a reply, and a secret. Your answer? The same as before - Fuck. Yes. 
And your secret?
You’d stolen the ‘pen’ again.
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recklesssturniolo · 5 months
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Early Morning - C.S
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Soft dom!Chris, “ma” & “mamas”, reader and Chris are dating
NSFW below, leave if you’re a minor
Rolling over as Chris’ alarm goes off, him refusing to do it himself I turn it off and roll back over to face him.
“Chris come on, you know you have that meeting this morning. Nick will kill you if you make them late” I say playing with his hair.
He grumbles into his pillow before opening his eyes and mumbling out, “Five more minutes, keep playing with my hair it feels so nice”
I roll my eyes but let him fall back asleep for the five minutes he asked for before waking him up again.
“Alright pretty boy times up” I tell him.
In response he pulls me closer to him, my back now against his chest. Only wearing one of his shirts and a thong I immediately can tell he’s hard - as he is every morning. I feel him slowly grind his hips against my ass as he places gentle kisses on my neck.
“Chris we don’t have time for this” I reply, ignoring the wetness beginning to pool in my panties.
“Come on ma, you know it’ll feel good. Then I’ll get up I promise” He croaks into my ear, his voice still raspy from just waking up.
He continues grinding himself against my ass, but moves his hand to my pussy, a moan slipping from my mouth as I felt his touch.
“See baby you’re so wet for me already” He whispers into my ear. His hand slowly massaging my clit. My face flushing as the small gesture that came with so much please.
“I - fuck Chris” I whimper out, my hands gripping the sheets as I feel his fingers enter me.
The air now thick with desire as he pumps his fingers into me, noticing him slowing down his pace, I whine.
“No don’t slow down”
“I want you to ride me mamas, you look so good on top of me” He smirks.
The words flowing so effortlessly from his mouth only cause me to ache with the want of him more. Turning him onto his back, he removes his boxers before bringing his hand up and tugging on the hem of the shirt I had on, his head nodding upwards signalling for me to take it off. Him immediately reaching for my breasts as I weave our lips together, tugging on his hair as our tongues collided.
My breath hitches as he smacks my ass, “Come on pretty girl, you know we don’t have much time”
I position myself so his dick is in line with my entrance. I slowly sink down onto him, whining as I struggle to take in his size.
“You can take it ma, show me how much of a good girl you are for me” He murmurs out, his eyes clenching shut the further he was inside of me.
Moans flowing from both of our mouths as he’s fully inside me. I begin bouncing on him, almost dizzy from the sensation of him inside of me.
“F-feels so good Chris fuck” I whimper.
“Yeah? You like how I feel deep inside you baby?” He groans back, now thrusting his hips upwards, meeting mine each time I went back down.
“Keep doing that, please” I whine out, my eyes rolling back as I feel his strong gaze on me, watching my every move.
I feel one of his hands leave the side on my waist, crying out in pleasure, my head being thrown back as he begins using him thumb to move circles on my clit. Becoming intoxicated by the sensation.
“Mm look so pretty bouncing on my dick mamas” He grunts, both of us picking up our pace. His hips now hitting mine perfectly, his dick lined up directly with my g-spot only causing me to whimper out his name louder as the knot is my stomach got tighter.
“I love you saying my name like that baby but you gotta stay quiet for me okay?” He says, knowing his brothers could easily hear if I didn’t quiet down.
“I - yeah fuck I’ll be quiet” I whimper, “Please don’t stop Chris I’m so close” My jaw slightly dropping as I felt my climax become closer and closer, while being aware of his dick starting to twitch inside me.
Locking eyes with him, his glazed over with lust as he looked my body up and down.
“Fuck I’m coming, come with me ma, I know you can. Fuck you feel so good” He says, his breath slightly becoming faster as he hits his high.
“Oh my god Chris” I strain out, my pussy pulsating as I come. Feeling nothing but ecstasy flow throughout my body as both of our moans fill the air. Shockwaves of pleasure continuing to flow through us.
With a couple more thrusts of him inside me, I slowly remove myself off of him, his come dripping out of me as I did. A small groan leaving my mouth as I noticed. Looking over at him, sweat on his forehead, his breathing returning back to normal, he takes him thumb and slowly traces my bottom lip with it.
“Such a good girl for me” He mumbles, pulling me close and connecting our lips again, “One more round mama”
Pulling away from him, a groan leaving his mouth as I did, I smile slightly before replying, “I’d love to but I can already hear Nick bitching about how he ‘just knows’ you’re gonna make them late”
“Fuck sakes Nick” He sighs, but doing as he promised and getting out of bed, placing a quick kiss on my forehead before heading over to his closet.
TAGLIST: @sturnphilia @thatonekid536 @cupidsword @loveesiren @daddyslilchickenfingers @christinarowie332 @ilovemattsturn @mattenthusiast @its-jennarose @lxvlysworld @lovingsturniolo @iwantmattsobad @secret-sturniolo @mattsd0ll @soursturniolo
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starreo · 1 month
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multi-character drabble.
includes unofficial to official relationship, exhibitionism, and adult themes so, mdni.
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he can be a little weird sometimes...
like when somebody is so desperately making it obvious that they are into you, and he's got his arm wrapped around your waist, squeezing tighter and tighter till you yelp.
or when a friend of his asks him when he plans to make it official, and you're wondering what he's talking about, he's rolling his eyes at his friend, "how 'bout now?" and pulling on your hand, dragging you amid the crowd, to the bathroom.
his hand slams the door shut, while his lips slam your mouth shut, not giving you a chance to complain.
'ts too late to complain now anyway.
your dress is hiked up to your waist and your palms are stuck on the mirror in front of you, as he thrusts his large cock deep in your dripping, tight, cunt. his fingers gripping your waist tightly with one hand, while the other squeezes the flesh of your breast, occasionally pinching and twisting your perky nipple. loud music outside being silenced, as your louder moans echo from the little gap in the door.
great, now everybody knows he's making it official. couldn't he just tell you he loves you like a normal person? god, he really can be so weird sometimes.
suna, rin, yuri, eren, uni! sukuna, bakugo, atsumu, gojo, nagi, reo.
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© starreo 2023. do not copy, translate or repost .
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purplegrapevines · 7 months
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Good Girl
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Pairing: dom!Vi x fem!cellmate!sub!reader
Content: edging, orgasm denial, dacryphilia, praise, degradation, size kink, manhandling, spanking, hair pulling, thigh riding, grinding, fingering, face grabbing, humiliation, oral, overstimulation
Word count: 3.5k
You don’t know how you ended up here. One minute, you’re dealing some shimmer like you always do, and the next, you’re here in these cold, metal handcuffs.
The guard grabs your shoulder to keep you walking, and you push back against his hand, only wanting to defy his authority. But in your situation and position, you really had no choice but to obey.
The prison stunk and the gawking eyes of the other prisoners made you uncomfortable as you shuffled past them. 
“There’s no empty cells left,” one guard tells the other behind you.
“Just throw her in with the pink bitch,” the other responds, and your head turns in confusion. You’re going to have a cellmate? A “pink bitch?”
“Who?” you ask them, but they ignore you as they drag you across a few more cells. You’re finally stopped in front of one, and you tilt your head to sneak a glance at the inmate inside of it. Will she be your cellmate?
You’re startled by a thump followed by a crack sound, which you notice is your soon-to-be cellmate’s fist pounding into the stone wall. 
You could see the bulging muscles of her broad shoulders, the sweat dripping down between the creases. Tattoos adorned her upper back and followed all the way down to her forearms. Who is she?
You’re so mesmerized by watching her that you almost forget that you’re here to be jailed. With… her.
As the gate to the cell opens up, the shadows of the bars cross her back until you can see her better light. 
Suddenly, your handcuffs are tugged off by the guards, and you’re shoved in the cell harshly. You struggle to keep your balance as you hear the cell gate slam shut behind you.
You start to soak in that you’re now stuck in jail until your cellmate turns around and looks at you. Beads of sweat slid down her face, and she catches her breath.
“Who the hell are you?” she asks, scrunching her scarred eyebrow. Her short, pink hair covers her eye. That explains the “pink bitch.”
“I’m… your cellmate,” you respond, intimidated by her presence.
“Yeah, I got that. I meant your name,” she corrects.
“O-oh…” you blush and look embarrassed as you tell her your name, and you then ask for hers.
“Vi,” she responds. 
“Like your cheek,” you blurt, and your blush deepens when Vi looks you in the eyes for a couple seconds.
“Yeah. Like my cheek,” Vi says. Silence fills the air for a couple seconds, and you both stand in awkwardness. Thankfully, Vi breaks it.
“So, tell me, what’s a pretty thing like you doing down here?” Your eyes widen at her unexpected statement, and your face becomes hot again.
“W-what?”
“What? Look at you, you’re so small and sweet-lookin’. Are you sure they got the right person?” Vi jokes. You pout, which makes Vi smile.
“Yeah they got the right person,” you confirm, looking away from her and leaning against the wall. Vi sits on the floor near the other side of the cell.
“What did you do then?” Vi asks as she tilts her head, looking genuinely curious.
“Just some minor shit…” you respond. It was totally a lie; dealing shimmer is the worst business you could put yourself in, especially because of shimmer’s dangerous properties and high demand. But the money was too good for you to resist.
“So, ‘minor shit’ is how a cute girl like you ended up in a cell with me, huh?” Vi says. 
“Stop it. I’m not cute,” you say with a frown. 
Your eyebrows raise as Vi stands up, walking over to you with her hands in her pockets. She stands in front of you, face to face. She’s tall, at least three inches taller than you.
“You are,” she says, “look at you. You don’t look like you belong in a prison like this. You look like a pretty, little Piltie, looking so fragile…” Vi says, looking down slightly, “so delicate.” 
You know you don’t look like the average Zaunite. You’re too feminine and sweet-looking compared to the rest of them. Usually, you hate being called small and delicate, but with Vi, you don’t seem to mind. In fact, it’s making your face hot and your palms sweaty, and you can’t understand why.
“Vi…” you start, not knowing how to finish.
“Hm?” Vi asks as she starts to back away, leaving your heart racing with your back against the wall. 
“Nothing…” you say. You brush the dust off your pants and sit on the tiny bed awkwardly. Vi sits back down on the floor as she drags her foot across the ground. You take a small glance at her, and you notice the small smirk on her face. What a tease.
“I’m bored,” Vi says, tossing a small pebble out the bars of the cell. You nod, not knowing how to respond.
“How long have you been here?” you ask her.
“A couple years, I think. At some point, I stopped keeping track,” Vi answers.
“Oh… so you must get bored a lot, then. Have you just been by yourself the entire time?”
“Yeah… been just me,” Vi says, looking at the ground. You assume that she’s extremely touch-starved after spending years in solitary.
“So, then, what do you do when you’re bored?
Vi shrugs, “Usually, I just work out. Or punch the walls, you know?” Vi laughs, pointing at the multiple cracks along the stone. You laugh, too.
“So… how did you get those tattoos?” you ask.
“Oh, I there’s a guy that can do ‘em for you. Why? You interested?” Vi asks, looking up at you. 
You shake your head, “No, I was just wondering.”
“Oh? You wanna see?” Vi asks.
“I can see them.”
“No. I mean all of them.”
Blush starts to return to your features, “I-it’s alright if you don’t want to-“
“It’s okay,” Vi interrupts, “come closer.” Slightly hesitantly, you step towards her. She stands and begins to reach for the hem of her shirt. You watch patiently.
Slowly, she pulls it off to reveal her hard, toned abs. You have to stop yourself from gawking.
“Like what you see?” Vi asks. Not knowing how to respond, you simply shrug. But your red cheeks answer her question. Vi smiles smugly as she turns around to show off her muscular back.
Gears and wheels follow the back of her arms to her shoulders, and then extend to the rest of her upper back. Whiffs of smoke intertwine with the gears and everything just comes together perfectly.
“Vi… it’s really nice,” you compliment. 
“Yeah?” Vi says. Without thinking, you reach out to touch it. Vi jerks flinches lightly with the unexpected contact, but she doesn’t interrupt your exploration.
After a couple seconds or your hand running over the might of her back, you realize what you’re doing. You quickly pull your hand away.
“I’m sorry… I don’t know why I-”
“It’s okay. I don’t mind,” Vi assures as she turns around to face you. You stop your eyes from looking down at her muscular stomach and instead force yourself to look into her gray eyes.
“You’re so cute,” Vi starts, “especially when you’re nervous and blushing like that.”
“I’m not…” you argue, but Vi shushes you and drags her thumb along your bottom lip. Your breath hitches.
“You are. You’re so cute, I just wanna ruin you until tears are streaming down that pretty face of yours,” Vi says as she inches her face closer to yours. Your eyes widen at the bluntness of her statement.
“Vi… you can’t just say stuff like that. What if the guards catch us?”
“They won’t. The guards are sleeping right now. We’ll be fine,” Vi assures as you feel her breath on your lips. You decide to trust her as you let your lips brush her gently.
Vi grabs your chin and pulls your face towards hers, kissing you passionately. You give up your control and let her tongue explore your mouth. Vi pushes you against the wall and continues to make out with you.
She grab the bottom of your shirt and pulls it over your head, leaving you in your bra. You blush and make an attempt to cover yourself, but Vi holds both your wrists with one hand.
“No. I wanna see it,” she says. She lowers her head to your neck and starts to bite marks into it. She lets go of your wrists, and uses one hand to hold your chin to the side and the other to drag along your chest.
You can’t help but moan when she pulls your bra down to your waist and kisses your breasts. Her mouth wraps around your nipple as you grab her pink hair. Vi doesn’t seem to mind it.
Vi places her knee between your legs and you absentmindedly begin to grind against it. Vi brings it upward and you groan. The guards may not be able to hear you right now, but the other prisoners sure can.
“Shh…” Vi says, “You don’t want everyone to hear you, right? To hear how much of a slut you are just from grinding against my thigh?” Her words surprisingly make you moan. You shake your head, but you wouldn’t really mind it if they did.
She removes her leg from in between yours and you whine in frustration. Before you could protest, Vi grabs your body and throws you over her shoulder like you’re as light as a feather. It turns you on.
She walks over to the small bed without any struggle, and she tosses you onto it. You look up at her with those adorable, innocent eyes, and it drives her feral. She gets on top of you and makes out with you again, but this time it was much less gentle. Your hands tangle through her hair again, and you grab it as if she’s your only lifeline.
Vi’s lips travel down your neck, down your chest, and she starts kissing down your stomach. She finally unclips your bra, and then she surprises you when she licks a stripe all the way from your nipple to your neck.
Vi’s hand starts to reach for the hem of your pants. She sits on her knees between your legs to unbutton them. She takes your ankles and brings them up, allowing her to yank your shoes and pants off. You blush at being exposed like that, and your position with your legs in the air. You try to bend your knees to cover yourself, but Vi holds you still. Even though you’re still wearing your underwear, this feels very embarrassing.
“Vi…” you whine, but Vi pays no attention to it. Instead, she pushes your knees back so that they almost reach your head. You turn away in an attempt to hide your face from her. She doesn’t need to see your red face; this is humiliating enough as it already is. 
“Aw, baby, are you shy?” Vi coos, “Hold your knees for me, just like that.” Despite the embarrassment, you obey. And you can’t say you don’t like it.
“Can I take this off?” Vi asks, gesturing to your underwear. You nod.
Vi pulls off your underwear, and she brings it to your knees. You squirm with the thought of how you must look right now. Legs up, knees apart, so fucking exposed, and it’s all for her.
“Aw, look how wet you are. You’re fucking soaked,” Vi teases. You whimper.
Without any warning, Vi pushes her middle finger all the way in and without any struggle. You moan.
Vi begins to slide another one in. This time, you can feel the slight sting from the stretch, but you like it. You subconsciously grind against her hand to push Vi’s fingers in deeper, and Vi chuckles.
“Fuck, you’re so needy, aren’t you? Good girl.” You shamelessly grind against her fingers as your eyes shut and you grip the sheets. 
Vi flips then you two around, so she’s lying on the bed and you’re on top of her, your knees on either side of her waist. Her fingers are still in you.
“C’mon. Ride me,” Vi whispers as she pushes your head down to rest on her shoulder.
You moan at her words and start moving your hips again. You adjust yourself to get her fingers to just touch that one spot… but you can’t. You look down at her and see her smug smile. You know she’s avoiding that spot on purpose.
“Vi, fuck, c’mon,” you whine, still trying stimulate your sweet spot.
“What’s the magic word?” she teases, like you’re a child.
“Oh, fuck, please? Please, Vi, please please please…” you moan into her neck. 
Vi suddenly curls her fingers in you. She hits the spot perfectly. She continuously rubbed it, giving you no break or chance to breathe.
“Oh my god… Vi… it feels so fucking good, please don’t stop!” You try to match her rhythm, but it was too fast for you. You do the best you can. When her other hand reaches down to rub your clit, you can’t hold your sounds back anymore. Fuck it if the other prisoners hear you. They can hear how good Vi is making you feel…
“Vi- I’m cumming,” you tell her, mouth agape and expression blissed out.
Suddenly, Vi pulls her fingers out of you takes her other hand away from your clit. 
“No, no no no no…” you cry, as you attempt to grind against her, not wanting to lose your high. A tear of frustration falls down your cheek and Vi loves it.
“Aw, did my girl wanna cum?” You sniffle and nod.
“Please, please let me. I can’t take it,” you beg.
“But you look so adorable like this, crying into my neck,” Vi says, tilting your head up so she can wipe your tears away.
“Please…” you beg with desperation. Vi moves your body so that your knees are on either side of her right thigh.
“C’mon. Ride me properly, then,” she says. You whimper and begin moving your hips. The rough fabric of her pants against your swollen clit feels so good, and you try to match the pace Vi was going at earlier, but you can’t do it.
You cry out in annoyance, and you look up at Vi with those wet eyelashes and swollen lips.
“Vi, please, help me?” you ask. Vi shakes her head.
“You can do it. C’mon. Ride my thigh like the slut you are,” Vi says, grabbing your hair and pulling it back. You place your hands on her biceps and use it as leverage.
With each motion of your hips, Vi brings her leg up slightly to help you. Her hand is still in your hair, yanking and tugging on it whenever she feels like it. It hurts your scalp, but it feels so good.
“H-help…” you moan out. And, this time, Vi complies. She reaches down and rubs your clit while you ride her.
“Don’t cum without my permission,” Vi warns, and you nod in response.
In just a minute or two, you could feel your orgasm creep into your body again.
“Vi, gotta cum, please?” you ask her nicely. 
“No,” Vi says. Plain and simple. You cry out in need as you continue riding her and Vi keeps rubbing your clit.
“Why?” you whine. Tears fall down your face as you struggle to hold it, and Vi smiles at the sight.
“Because I said so. Be a good girl for me,” Vi says. You want to, you really do. But you just can’t hold it anymore. 
Just as you’re about to cum, Vi pulls her hand away and places her hands on your hips to halt their movement. You try to fight against her, but she’s too strong. No no no no…
You start to actually cry this time, not just the soft mewling like before. Vi yanks your hair, making you look upwards.
“Were you just about to cum? Without my permission? You weren’t planning on disobeying me, were you?” Vi says, looking at you angrily.
“‘M sorry, so sorry,” you whimper. 
“Bad girl. Told you to hold it, and you didn’t even listen,” Vi hisses. You start to cry more.
“I really tried! I’m really sorry, I did listen!” you try to convince.
“Oh, really? So if I didn’t pull my hand away, you wouldn’t have cum?” Vi asks. You sniffle and stay silent which answered her question. Vi sighs.
“I’m so sorry, Vi, please,” you say in desperation. Vi grabs your face harshly and squishes your cheeks together. You try to apologize again, but it comes out in gibberish.
“Fucking slut can’t listen to fucking instructions,” Vi says. Her other hand reaches down to slap your ass. You moan in both pain and pleasure.
“M-more…” you moan, not even realizing what you said until Vi lets go of your face raises an eyebrow.
“Oh? You want more?” she says with a smirk. She brings her hand down on your ass over and over again, causing you grab onto her shoulders. You moan her name as more tears drip down your face.
“Such a dumb slut. Crying from a few spanks. But, fuck, you look so fucking pretty like this,” Vi whispers into your ear. She continues with her hard hits, making you squirm on top of her. She holds you down easily with one arm.
She doesn’t stop until red hot handprints litter your ass.
“You look so beautiful right now…” Vi tell you.
You sniffle, “Please, wanna cum now, I can’t take this anymore!”
“Aw, poor baby,” Vi says, stroking your hair, “Does it hurt?”
“Yes, it hurts, Vi. Please? Please help me?” you ask her nicely.
“Fuck, you’re such a good girl,” Vi says as she pushes you onto the bed and gets on top of you.
“Spread your legs for me, baby,” she says. You obey. Vi kisses down your body until she reaches your dripping pussy. She gently places a peck on your clit, causing you to back your hips up against her face. Vi laughs at your desperation.
Finally, she licks a stripe up your slit and circles her tongue around your clit.
“Oh, fuck, Vi, it’s so good,” you moan. 
Vi eats you out like there’s no tomorrow. Her tongue fucks deep into you and her nose nudges against your swollen clit.
“You taste so fucking sweet. I love it,” she whispers into your pussy. The slight vibration from her talking makes you go feral.
From all the edging you experienced prior, it doesn’t take long for you to reach the edge. Her lips sucking your clit and her strong hands holding your thighs was too much for you to handle.
“Vi, I need to cum, please, can I cum?” you whimper. For a second, you’re worried she’ll deny you again. But instead, she hums and nods between your legs.
You let go with a scream. This is the most intense orgasm you've ever had. You see stars and your legs shake around Vi’s head. 
Vi doesn’t stop. She continues lapping up your juices as they drip down her chin. You make an attempt to push her head away, the sensitivity being too much, but she stays put until she gets every last drop.
You finally get a chance to breathe when she pulls away, wiping her chin with the back of her hand, and smirking at the sight of you.
Vi brushes your sweaty hair our of your face and coos at you.
“So good for me. Good girl,” she says. You nuzzle into her neck as you start to drift off. Vi gently puts your underwear back on for you and drapes the blanket over the two of you.
“Thank you…” you whisper. She slowly drags her fingers down your arm.
“Hey?” she asks. You hum in response.
“How’d you get in here?” Vi asks, “You never told me.”
“I… dealt some drugs,” you respond.
“Oh? So it really is just minor shit. I thought you were hiding something,” Vi laughs. You laugh too.
“Yeah, just some shimmer,” you admit. Vi stops laughing for a second and her eyes widen.
“You’re kidding,” she says, stunned.
“I’m not,” you chuckle.
“You dealt fucking shimmer? That’s fucking crazy. I didn’t know you were capable of that shit,” Vi replies, sounding impressed.
“Yeah, well, I got caught, so…”
“Well, you know, if you didn’t you wouldn’t have had the best orgasm of your life,” Vi smirks. You nod in agreement.
You yawn and your eyes began to close. You rest your face comfortably in her neck, and she looks down at you in adoration.
“My good girl…”
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Text
Shotgunning with Ellie Williams
Kinktober Day Seven!
ELLIE WILLIAMS X FEM!READER
Word Count: 2.8K
18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
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WARNINGS: Swearing, drug/vape use, college!au, fuckgirl!Ellie, dom!Ellie, sub!reader, pussy eating (r!receiving), fingering (Ellie!receiving), shotgunning (which is blowing smoke from your mouth into your partner's, sharing a high together), risky sex, Ellie calls reader 'angel' a few times, Ellie slightly pressures reader into doing THC with her
SYNOPSIS: You admitted to Ellie that you haven't gotten high before and she takes this opportunity to show you what you're missing. And one thing leads to another in your bedroom... with your parents literally downstairs.
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“You seriously never gotten high before?”
That was the sentence that started it all. You had no idea what you had been thinking when you agreed to this shit. Maybe it was the idea of the hottest bad girl in school being in your house? Your bedroom? Or perhaps you just didn’t want her to fail the calculus test tomorrow.
Everybody knew you had the highest test scores in the class, and that you studied like it was your only purpose in life, while said girl in your bedroom was either at sorority parties fucking anything that breathes or making videos with her skateboard tricks. She was quite the rebel, and you were crushing on her HARD.
Yes, Ellie Williams was a player, but she was still the sexiest thing to ever be close to you and there was a sick part of you that wanted to do literally anything she asked you to. If she put a gun in your hand and told you to shoot someone, you may feel driven to pull the trigger if she promised to kiss you after.
Ellie clearly knew she had you under her thumb. You were at her mercy, despite this being your territory. So, when Ellie pulled out her vape and didn’t even ask if it was okay before she took a hit, you tried not to look at her while you were looking through your Calculus textbook.
A moment passed, and you heard the burning inside of the cart before Ellie released another hit from her lungs and offered the vape for you. “Want a hit?”
You didn’t even glance up. “No, thank you.”
“Don’t worry, I don’t have herpes or anything,” Ellie joked, the THC already working through her as she leaned back against the wall on your bed and sighed. You dared a glance upward and saw her face, and how blissed out she looked. A silly grin was on her freckled face as her ringed fingers twitched. “Promise it’s good shit, angel.”
You blushed at the nickname but attempted to focus. “I don’t really know what classifies THC as ‘good’, so I wouldn’t have a compelling argument for that.”
It took Ellie way too long to connect what you were saying, and she gaped, sitting up and scooting closer to you. “You seriously never gotten high before?”
Not like it’s by choice, Williams. You thought to yourself but kept your mouth shut. All you did was shake your head and write something down on the paper in front of you but had to stop mid problem. The letters of the triangle went from RST to THC, and you groaned, putting the pencil down and rubbing your temples.
Ellie simply held the vape out for you. “C’mon, take a hit, angel. It’ll calm you down.”
“Ellie,” You looked up at her, seeing the look in her eyes and feeling your heart stammer… This was your chance to finally get in good with her… Fuck it. What was a little vaping compared to being friends with THE bad girl?
You curled your fingers around the vape cart and pressed the mouthpiece to your lips. Ellie watched you hold down the button on the front of the device and you cautiously inhaled… the second the substance tickled your throat, you immediately pulled the vape away and started coughing.
Ellie snorted, watching you drop the vape and slam a fist on your chest to try and stop hacking up the substance while she took it off the mattress and immediately took another hit. You watched in jealousy as Ellie blew the vapor out of her mouth and you bit your lip a little.
“Wanna try again, angel?” Ellie slowly reached out and slid a finger into the beltloop on your jeans and pulled you closer. You thought she was just going to hold the vape out again, but you felt your breath leave your lungs when Ellie pulled you into her lap, straddling her thighs and slowly pressing the mouthpiece to your lips again. “Slower this time… nice and easy for me, yeah?”
You slowly breathed it in, feeling the vapor travel down your throat and fill up your lungs. You felt slightly tingly, your fingers twitching by your side as your hands reached upward and slowly curled them against the back of Ellie’s neck. She watched you hold the vapor in your chest and slowly breathe it out, grinning at how well you handled it, and how your pupils were dilating in response. She took another hit, blowing the vapor in your face and watching you blink slower than normal.
“How’s it feel?”
You sighed, relaxing against her. “Feels good… really good…”
“Good girl,” Ellie praised you. Your cheeks heated up and you took her offer of another hit, inhaling the substance without hesitation and letting it sit a little longer before you released it again. Ellie was drowning in you, enjoying being at the momentous occasion of your very first high, and she was so out of it already that she only noticed the cart was nearly empty until she looked down and saw the red blinking light.
“Fuck,” She scowled, looking at the cart and then at you. She wanted to keep feeding you, but she was desperate to float like you seemed to be doing already. Very slowly, Ellie held the vape up for you and frowned. “It’s almost empty.”
You don’t know what possessed you to be so bold… Maybe it was the weed working through you, or maybe Ellie was just that addicting to be around. You accepted the vape without a question and when you inhaled this time, Ellie was surprised when you reached down, grabbing her face with both hands on her jaw and easing her mouth open with your thumb.
“Take it from me,” You said, breathing down and watching Ellie inhale the vapor from your mouth and into her own. You whined a little and leaned down, pushing your nose against her neck and holding her like this was the only thing that mattered to you. Ellie was pouting. She wanted to feel euphoria… “I have… other ways to make you feel good, you know?”
Ellie looked at the side of your face curiously, wondering in what way you meant, and she immediately understood when hands grabbed her ass through her jeans. The sound she made was almost animal as she growled and pressed her lips into your hot skin.
“I dunno what I’m saying,” You admitted, blushing slightly as you hid away in her shoulder but didn’t remove your hands from her rear. “You make me so damn nervous, Ellie—”
“Hey, relax angel,” Ellie cooed sweetly as she pushed you back a little by your shoulders and smirked, hands sliding down to the hem of your shirt and slowly pulling it up just enough to expose your bra under your clothes. You blush, biting your lip and without warning, pulled the fabric of your top and your bra over your head. Ellie didn’t waste any time before she was latching her teeth to your breasts, licking and sucking all over your flesh and making you whine. “Take real good care of you, yeah?”
All you could do was whine and nod your head as Ellie took control. She pushed you down onto the bed and began stripping you slowly before you were laying on your bed in nothing but your black ankle socks and boy short panties that she couldn’t stop admiring. The cute star patterns on the fabric made her think you wore them just for her. “So fucking sexy.”
“Please,” You rolled your eyes. “Your just high.”
“So are you,” Ellie leaned down, leaving a trail of licks and kisses from the middle of your chest down to your abdomen. You watched her, shivering at her wet lips leaving a visible wet line on your body before she was dipping down and laying on her stomach between your legs. You shivered, looking down as you scooted up a little and rested your head on the many pillows of your bed.
Ellie reached down, gently pushing her fingertips against your clothed cunt, seeing the visible wet spot on the fabric and also feeling it through the material. You let out a soft yelp and immediately covered your mouth to shut yourself up.
“Shhh, quiet angel,” Ellie cooed, her eyes dilating at your sounds. “Can’t let your parents know you’re about to get fucked, can you?”
As a college student still living with her mom and dad, this was definitely an embarrassing thing to admit to the hottest girl in school, but she seemed to like teasing you on that, especially now. The thought of your parents walking in while Ellie was licking your clit… You immediately covered your face with both hands and whined.
“Still shy, hunny?” Ellie grabbed the vape that had maybe 5 hits left and offered it to you. “Let’s loosen you up then.”
Wordlessly, you took the vape from her hands and inhaled the vapor like you needed it to survive. Ellie watched and grinned before she dipped down and licked a long stripe over your clothed pussy. You sharply inhaled, chest inflating before you breathed out. Ellie watched the vapor leave you and gather in the air.
You were on cloud nine as she pulled your panties to the side and dived inside of your pussy, tongue immediately attacking your clit and making you squirm against her face. Ellie wrapped her tattooed, veined hands around your hips and held you down, drooling all over your cunt and making you feel more pleasure than you’ve ever felt in your entire life.
Your soft little noises only spurred her on as you spread your legs as wide as possible, grinding down on her face and almost drooling. “El… Ellie… Ohmygod, please keep going… Feels so good…”
She started off slow, licking from your hole to your clit before repeating the entire process repeatedly and loving how your body twitched and jerked upward when she caught her tongue on a certain place above your clit. It didn’t take long for her to catch on to what you wanted before she was wrapping her lips around your nerve bud and sucking. Hard.
The noise you made was stifled when you bit down on your forearm to keep quiet. Ellie loved watching you struggle to hold it together as she attacked your clit with her lips, licking at it while sucking and letting her teeth graze over it just a bit. You were already seeing stars, just like her as she stared at the panties on your hips.
Ellie was practically making out with your pussy, drooling and slobbering all over you as the taste of your cunt was like the most addictive drug she’s ever had in her life. You on the other hand? You were embarrassed at how Ellie got you so close, so fast.
Hands went from your side and into her hair, undoing that half-up ponytail she had going on and yanking on her auburn locks, making Ellie groan into your cunt and roll her eyes back a little before meeting your gaze. “E-Ellie… M’gonna… f…fuck…”
Ellie mumbled against your slippery folds. “Yeah, cum for me angel… Make a mess on my face…”
You were gone after she began licking even faster. Your orgasm made your entire body arch off the bed before Ellie yanked you back down and continued to lick at your clit until you were practically begging her to stop. After many pleading attempts, she pulled away and licked her lips before leaning back down and taking the vape from the bed near your side.
Through half-lidded eyes, you saw Ellie inhale the drug again, holding it in her chest before she bent down and you gasped, feeling her lips against yours and that burn of the vapor as she breathed it from her lungs, directly down into yours. Both hands tangled in her hair and you pressed your tongue against the roof of your mouth, tasting yourself on her lips and for some reason, loving every second of it.
When Ellie pulled back, you licked your lips and began to reach for her jeans, undoing the belt around her waist and unzipping the denim fabric. Ellie smirked, watching your desperate attempts to get her jeans off and she decided to humor you, shimmying until the fabric was off her body and on the floor.
Ellie sat on her knees, naked from the waist up as you saw the mess of auburn fluff overtop of her cunt, but for some reason, you found it incredibly hot that she was for the most part, unshaved. Ellie scooted forward on your bed and you reached up with one hand, still tripping on the THC as your fingers came in contact with her soaking wet slit.
The bad girl let out a soft sigh at your touch, hissing through her teeth and gently grinding down on your hand as your fingertips circled her clit and made her squirm against you.
“Fuck, that feels good,” Ellie bit her lip and leaned down until her forehead was on your shoulder. You wrapped an arm around her and let her lean forward just enough to rest her elbows on the pillow behind your head. Her chest was inches away from your face and you couldn’t resist pulling up her t-shirt and gaping at her not wearing any kind of bra. Ellie hissed, her hips jerking forward when she felt your lips around her right nipple, squeezing her hip with your free hand and slowly pushing your middle finger into her cunt.
“Nnnn, god—Fuck, angel…” Ellie groaned at your desperation to feel her cum on your fingers as she pretty much fucked herself down on your digits. You added a second finger and she began rolling her hips forward, loving how your tongue felt on her tits and how full your fingers felt inside of her pussy. You twisted your hand a bit and she felt your thumb rub at her clit, making her see stars behind her eyes.
You didn’t mean to look smug, but seeing her like this for you and you alone made your heart race with euphoria. You smiled, the idea of being caught by your parents no longer taunting the back of your mind as you kissed all over her chest and licked her other nipple. Ellie squeaked when you curled your fingers upward and stroked that sweet spot in her cunt; the one that made her whiny.
“You like that, baby?” You mumbled against her tits, suffocating in her presence. Ellie just nodded, her fingers curling into the fabric of your pillow behind your head as you began to move your fingers faster, thumb rubbing hard on her clit and pounding that sweet spot inside of her hard enough for her to start squirming. “Come on, please… please, wanna feel you cum on my fingers…”
“Fuck, fuck, don’t stop… d-don’t fuckin’ stop…” Ellie pulled back enough to look down into your eyes, pressing her forehead against yours as you took the vape from her hands and pressed it against your lips. Ellie watched your eyes roll back as you took the biggest possible hit ever and you began pumping your fingers into her even harder. The sounds her pussy made had you blushing as you yanked her down by her neck and pressed your lips against hers.
The orgasm that rippled through her body was the most intense feeling of her entire life. And when the vapor passed through your throat and into her lungs, she was bordering on convulsions. Her legs gave out and she fell down on top of you, your fingers pushing inside of her so deep that she squealed into your mouth.
You shared the moment of not only sharing the high of the THC, but the high of her climax. Her inner walls quivered against your fingers and you licked at her bottom lip before breaking the kiss just long enough to meet her eyes. Her pupils were blown out and she was panting, sweaty, and flushed.
You thought she was even hotter like this. Ellie watched you remove your fingers from her cunt, whining at the emptiness she felt, but blushing even harder as you brought them to your mouth and sucked her juices off your digits.
“Fuck, baby,” Ellie sighed, collapsing next to you and wrapping both arms around your body. You giggled, curling into her and nuzzling into her chest as she ran her fingers through your hair. “Not bad for a fuckin’ nerd.”
“Excuse me?” You pretended to be hurt, a hand going to your chest as you chuckled and watched Ellie just roll her eyes. “You’d be surprised at what this nerd can do.”
“Oh yeah?” Ellie put both hands behind her head and you almost drooled at the way her abdomen sucked in, drawing attention to that happy trail on her tummy that mixed with the hair on her pelvis. “Show me then.”
“You are so—”
The sound of knocking had you both looking up at the door. The color drained from your face and you felt like your heart was gonna stop.
“Girls, everything okay in there?” Your father’s voice petrified you.
You gulped. “Fuck.”
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moonstruckme · 6 months
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i am so BUMMED when i realized ive read all of your polymarauders works. can i get more of them please? especially the one like the 'casual dominance' fic omgg. that one made me feel THINGS. btw!!! congrats on reaching the 1k mark. totally deserved <33
-🥀
Wow babe, that's a lot! I'm really glad you're enjoying them! I know I've written a few since you sent this in, but I decided to treat this as a request for specifically casual dom!marauders because I'm weak for them too :*
poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words
Your teeth chatter as you step out of the fastest shower of your life, barely drying yourself off before starting on your makeup. You’re so dumb. You’re so, so dumb. Of course it’d be the night before your presentation that you’d accidentally set your alarm for PM instead of AM. How many times had you stirred, thought about getting up, and decided to wait until your alarm went off? It had only been when you’d woken to an empty bed, sunlight coming in through the window, that you’d realized. 
You’re still running on the adrenaline of that waking jolt, now mixed with the extra edginess from your frigid shower since you couldn’t afford to wait for the water to warm. You probably won’t be late, but you’re definitely going to be late by pre-presentation standards. You’d planned to get there a half hour in advance to set up and mentally prepare. Now you’re going to have ten minutes at best, and that’s only if you can get out the door in the next few. You finish with your makeup—your hair’s just going to have to dry on the way—and turn to where you’d hung your pre-selected and Sirius-vetted presentation outfit the night before. The hangers sit empty. 
You go into the bedroom, hoping one of the boys had laid them out on the bed while you’d been in the shower. Nothing. Just your socks and shoes where you’d left them by the bedroom door. 
“Shit,” you mutter to yourself, pulling the socks on because you can do that, at least. “Shit shit shit!” 
You take off down the stairs, relieved to see Sirius on his way up. “Hey! Do you know where—” your foot hits too close to the edge of one step, slipping down to the next. It seems inclined to keep going, but Sirius’ hands catch you around the waist. 
“Jesus, baby.” He looks down at your feet as you get them under you again, eyebrows drawn together. “Running down the stairs is already a punishable offense, but with socks on?” 
“Do you know where my presentation outfit went?” you ask in a rush. 
Sirius blinks. “No. It’s not where you left it?” You shake your head and decide this conversation is no longer a productive use of your time, moving past him. “Don’t run,” he says after you, and you slow to a slight hustle down the remaining steps. 
You practically skid into the kitchen, where Remus is just about to sit down at the table with his cup of coffee and James is running the blender. You raise your voice to be heard over it. “Do either of you know where my presentation outfit went?” 
James stops the blender. “Morning to you too, sweetheart. Everything okay?” 
You feel like you could burst into tears, but that would just waste more time. Why is no one cooperating with your need for efficiency?
“I’m going to be late!” you stress to James, turning around to survey the kitchen, the living room, like they’ll just be hanging in some random corner where you somehow forgot them. “I need my clothes, have you seen them?”
“Dove.” Remus takes you by the shoulders. “Breathe. You’ve got time.” 
You exhale, trying not to twitch as your skin crawls with urgency, or to lecture him on how little time you actually have. Remus watches you patiently. His hands slide up to either side of your face once you no longer seem like a flight risk, thumb stroking your cheek. 
“Your outfit’s in the dryer,” he says in a soothing voice, still holding you as if to keep you from running off. “I was warming it up while you were in the shower.” 
Your next inhale scrapes on the way in, a grateful pressure building behind your eyes. “Rem, that’s so sweet,” you say. “Thank you.” 
Remus gives you a smile and a little shrug, more casual than the faint pinkness of his cheeks would suggest. He lets his hands skim back down your neck, giving your upper arms a light squeeze. “Why don’t you let it finish running while you have your breakfast, yeah? That way there’s no risk of spilling on it.” 
You shake your head, aware this won’t go over well but too anxious to worry much about it. “I don’t have time for breakfast,” you tell him. “I need to catch the bus in, like—” Your eyes search for a moment before landing on the microwave clock. “—five minutes.” 
“I’ll drive you,” Sirius says, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt as he comes back downstairs.
You glance at the microwave clock again in case you read it wrong the first time. “You can’t,” you say. “You’ll be late.” 
Sirius shrugs. “I don’t have a presentation. They’ll deal with it.” 
You look to Remus, expecting him to object to Sirius’ proposed tardiness, but he only nods, sitting down with his coffee. 
“Are…are you sure?” you ask Sirius, trying to adjust to the sudden non-urgency of your situation. 
“It’s no problem,” he promises you. “Stop looking so upset, honey, just eat your breakfast.” 
“Drink your breakfast, is more like it,” James says proudly, coming in from the kitchen to pass you a glass of whatever he’d been concocting in the blender. It’s a murky brown-green, and you try not to wrinkle your nose for James’ sake. 
“Thanks.” You take it from him tentatively. “It’s…it’s a smoothie?” 
James laughs at your expression, and you think you hear Remus snort into his coffee. “Yes, it’s a smoothie. The color’s because of the chocolate protein powder and the spinach, but it’s got fruit, too, don’t worry.” 
You swirl the glass a bit, assessing the color. “Why so much spinach?”
James sets a hand on your shoulder, encouraging you into your chair as he joins the three of you at the table with a smoothie of his own. “Iron, sweetheart.” He casts a pointed glance at your legs, spotted here and there with purple-and-yellow blotches of skin. “Seems like need it. You’re bruising like a peach lately.” 
Remus hums in agreement as you take a tentative sip of the smoothie. It’s not bad, though you can feel little bits of spinach sticking to your teeth. You make a mental note to have Sirius check your smile before you get out of the car later.
“And I saw that look in your eyes when you stood up too quick from the couch yesterday,” Remus says, quirking an eyebrow when you look at him in surprise. “You’re not as subtle as you think, dove.” 
You bring the glass to your lips again to avoid making a response. Sirius laughs, and when you smile sheepishly, his grin turns goofy. “Hold it there,” he says, taking your jaw in hand. You keep your smile in place as his eyes narrow. “Front tooth on the left. My left.” You lick at the piece of spinach, and he nods, dropping his hand. 
“Knew I could count on you,” you tell him. “Thanks, Siri.” 
Sirius pecks you on the cheek. “S’what I’m here for, gorgeous.”
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2kiran · 6 months
Text
ftm!ghost and ftm!könig wouldn’t be as insecure as most of you think. continuation of this.
they’re confident. sure, they may have their moments, but they’re confident. that fact remains in the bedroom. they won’t be ashamed of how needy they can get, assured that you can take care of it. ghost would make you admit that only he can make you feel like this, absolute filth spilling from his mouth,
“easy now,” simon presses a kiss to your cheek, bringing himself back down on your cock, “i’m making you feel good, aren’t i?” an impatient huff escapes his nose when you don’t answer quickly enough. slowly, he snakes his hand from your shoulder to your hair, yanking it back. “answer me, love. no one else can satisfy this needy cock of yours like i can? no one else is tight ‘nough for you, huh?” he emphasizes his words when his cunt practically squeezes the life out of your dick.
könig’s words would be kinder, but his actions rougher.
the tip of your nose catches his clit, rewarded by a gasp from him. “oh, mein liebe,” his inner thighs tremble against your head as he humps your face, “my sweet boy— fuuck, right there...” a string of curses, mostly in german, departed from his throat. “just there... mhm, yes!” it was slightly uncomfortable with the way your jaw ached from how quick he was moving, but you pushed away the feeling when you felt him throb against your tongue. “doing so wonderful for me, ja? i’m so close, sweet thing.”
pt3
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planet-dusk · 9 months
Text
🏷️ mean dom!hyunjin, fuckboy!hyunjin, hyune has a big cock, one pussy slap, orgasm denial, overstim, subspace, pet names: doll, baby
hyunjin bullied himself deeper between your walls, the sound of your drawn-out moans music to his ears.
your hands grabbed at his shoulders, at his arms, searching for anything to hold onto while his thick cock stretched you out in a way you'd never experienced before. after his relentless teasing earlier, bringing you to the brink of orgasm with his fingers and tongue countless times (only to pull back and stop you from tipping over) you weren't sure how much longer you'd be able to hold out for.
"hnng — you-you're bigger than i thought, i'm not sure it'll fit —"
hyunjin grabbed your wrists and pinned them to the bed above your head, wrapping his long fingers around them with ease.
"stop squirming, doll. it's only halfway in. you were the one begging for it earlier."
"that… that was before i knew it was so big," you whined.
"don't say i didn't warn you."
he had warned you. multiple times. talking with his friends about their conquests, laughing at you rolling your eyes. fishermen's tales without a doubt, or so you'd thought. it'd always been hard to tell if he was speaking the truth. there had been a time where you'd thought he could be a lost romantic, with his love for the arts and the books he was always carrying with him. but there was nothing romantic about his addiction to sweet things, burning through them without mercy, throwing them away as soon as they lost their flavor.
it was one of the reasons why you tried to stay away from him. but still you'd ignored all the warning signs when he'd kissed you so sweetly tonight. you'd granted him the one thing you'd vowed you never would: allowing him to consume you.
"do you want me to stop, then?"
you avoided his eyes, fixating on the silver chain dangling from his neck. a long time ago you'd found his love for elegant silver jewellery irritating. as if he tried too hard at his carefully crafted persona. you're not sure when that changed.
"you've always been a shy little thing," hyunjin bend down and brought his face closer to yours. "it's cute. but i need you to tell me what you want, doll. need to hear you beg for it."
you licked your lips. you hated how beautiful he looked even with his hair mussed and his skin coated in sweat. hated how much of a wreck he'd made you. how powerless he made you feel.
how much you liked it.
"because i don't think you want me to stop. look how your pussy is drooling for it — soaked at the thought of being stretched by me. watch what happens when i pull out..."
he rolled his hips back, laughing at the way you tried to tug your wrists out of his grip, your broken whine when he slapped your clit with the head of his cock.
"hyune, please —"
"that's what i thought," he grinned, "i know what you want. you just have to ask nicely."
"w-want your cock, please, want it all," you whispered, heat spreading through your body, mortified by the admission. who knew how many women had been in this exact position before — on someone else's bed, loud music still playing downstairs while hyunjin made them beg for his cock. somehow it would've been better if he'd just taken it from you, no questions asked, only hushed moans and whimpers in the dark.
his satisfied smile told you he knew. he knew, and he loved every second of it.
but what he loved even more was the raw, unfiltered moan you let out when he forced his cock in fully, watching your eyes widen in realization:
"f-fuck, i'm - i think i'm —"
"are you really going to cum from me just putting it in? fuck baby, you're really that desperate, aren't you? poor little thing," he pulled out completely and slapped your cunt with his free hand, "if you're going to cum now you'll be in for a long night." he rubbed his fingers through the mess between your legs, arousal sticking to his skin.
after the earlier denial you were hurling towards your peak embarrassingly fast, and when he pushed back in you clenched around his cock in waves of pleasure, hips bucking into his. you sobbed when he started moving, unsure of where your body stopped and his began.
"'s too much, please, hyune…"
hyunjin let go of your wrists and pulled you closer, bending your knees and kissing the salty tears off your cheeks. you felt yourself slipping away into a floaty haze, the feeling of his cock sliding in and out of you the only thing that mattered.
"don't worry, i'm not done with you yet, doll," hyunjin murmured. "we're just getting started."
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