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aajjks · 24 days

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Baby O Baby (m)

synopsis. Is it really a little happy accident?

warnings. ëxplïcït sèx, ünprôtèctèd sèx, bábytráppïng, cúmmïng insïde, fèm!rèàder, rèplácïng bïrth côntrôl w/ô cônsènt, cóarcátïôn, 18+ smút, kïssïng, prôfánïty, ábôrtíön, mânïpülátïôn.

note. tc jk in a modern universe HAHAHA. shouto’s ver on my anime blog, check it out. please talk to this new jk and SHARE FEEDBACK.

smut below MDNI.

No no no no.

You hadn’t realised that a tear escaped your eye, your blurry gaze was focused on your shaky hand. The white blue stick in your hand trembled. “N-No..” you could barely whisper. Your legs felt wobbly all of a sudden, the two bright red straight lines was all you could focus on.

You were pregnant.

You couldn’t believe this, horror filled your eyes as you kept staring, the longer you stared, the more suffocated you were beginning to feel. The large grey bathroom felt like a small cave, your mouth trembled as you inhaled a shaky breath in, “fuck fuck fuck!!” You cried, finally letting it out, the bile that rose up to your throat almost made you want to throw up again.

How could you not have known?

A broken cry left your mouth as you fell down to your knees, it all came rushing back to you. You tried to be careful, you had warned Jungkook, your boyfriend.

P-Please Koo… n-not inside…” you moaned out his name as the man panted breathlessly in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent, the seductive feeling of his lips made you tingle. his face was nuzzled in your neck as he only thrusted harder. You heard him grunt deeply, the feeling only made your eyes almost roll back to your head as you tried your best to hold back another moan that threatened to spill from your swollen lips.

Jungkook ignored you. He was so busy, buried deep inside you as he desperately tried to chase his high, his fingers gripped onto your naked shoulders as he mewled weakly in your neck.

“Fuck baby… you feel so fuckin good, could stay buried deep inside you forever.. fuck…” his voice was rough and deep, there was a hint of desperation in his tone, the way he hit all of your weak spots made you see black dots.

He felt so good.

“Love you so fucking much, baby.. love you too much…” he pressed a kiss on your neck as you felt him loosing himself inside you.

“F-Fuck Jungkook- n-not inside p-please-ah fuck..” a sharp thrust interrupted you as you felt his hip bucking up. “C-Can’t help it baby… you feel like heaven all clenched up around me… please ‘dont wanna pull out… please Y/N… let me have completely please..”

He rocked his hips into you, the force almost making you bounce up, he was strong, undeniably so, but the way he made those shameful lewd sounds made you think otherwise. He pulled your body closer, his hair was sweaty, he had been at it for hours, making you feel exhausted almost, after almost milking you out multiple times, you felt tired.

But he was making you feel so fucking good, it was almost impossible for you to stop him.

“M’gonna fill you full of me… “‘youre mine aren’t you?” His next thrust inside your core made your toes curl, a deep grunt erupted from his throat. Your core felt like it was actually on fire, the feeling of him inside you was almost addictive,

He fit so perfectly inside you.

He rocked his hips into yours and a broken moan left you at the lewd contact of his skin into yours. Your legs unknowingly wrapped around his waist, his hands only caged you into him, locking you into place. Not giving you a moment to resist him.

Your nails dig deeper into his buffed back, his teeth bit down into your shoulders. “F-Fuck that felt so good baby please don’t stop!” He begged.

A loud whine left his lips as he began to pump his hips into yours, his rhythm was fast and brutal, you whined, your consciousness immediately shut down as he sank himself deeper inside you, a pathetic whine escaped your lips as you felt something tightening up.

“fuck baby ‘m gonna go insane if i don’t cum, gonna fuck you full of me…” that was all you heard him say as he came inside you, and the next thing you knew,

You were full of him, as he swallowed your moans by kissing you passionately on the lips.

And you were too late to realise.

Until now.

A knock interrupted your flashback as you heard a familiar voice and your heart skipped a beat, “Y-Y/N can I come in? Are you okay? Why are you crying? Please tell me what’s wrong? Sweetheart?” It was Jungkook, “Y/N you’ve been in the bathroom for so long now, You feelin’ okay, baby?” He continued, his tone was so gentle that it should’ve relaxed you,

But except it didn't. “I told you that we should go see a doctor! Y/N you haven’t been feeling well for a month! Please let’s just go!” You heard him plea to you, he beat his fist against the door again.

Until you were forced to open the door and come out.

Your head hurt, stress was building up inside you, Jungkook’s heart dropped in his chest as he saw your face, filled with hot tears. “B-Baby?” He stuttered as he pulled you into a tight hug, “what’s wrong? Are you okay?” He kissed the crown of your head as he caressed your head, in an attempt to calm your shaking body down.

“K-Koo…” you cried on your boyfriend's warmth, his big muscles flexed as he tightened his hold on you.

You were both too young to have a baby… that was all you could think of. “Yes, baby tell me, what’s wrong?” He whispered carefully, as he pressed small pecks on your hair. His scent calms you down but only for a bit as reality hits you once again.

“Y/N baby?” Jungkook deep voice called out for you, you were only 23 and he was 26…

“Jungkook I’m p-pregnant!” You choked out, tears still fresh, falling from your red eyes. As you remove yourself from his grip, you fall down to your knees, your hands cover your face, you start sobbing again.

Would jungkook leave you now?

You were busy crying when you didn’t notice a big smile taking over his face, but only for a moment as he quickly concealed it and got on his knees, on your level. “W-What?” He stuttered.

He was playing dumb with you.

Were you really telling the truth? Had Jungkook really succeeded?

His hands fell on your back as he tried to pick you up. “Baby please answer me? Are you sure?” He looked at you, a hint of hope in his eyes.

You always adored children, you would love yours too, he was sure, almost as much as loved you.

“Yes jungkook! I-I took seven tests!” You sobbed. “We’re n-not ready! Please.”

Jungkook couldn’t slip up, it was hard for him to mask his happiness, but he managed to sound shocked and confused.

He almost tsked. He was more than ready. And he knew that deep down, you were too, you were just shocked, that’s it, right?

“Jungkook! H-How is this even possible?!? I was on birth control?! I didn’t t-think much about missing my period last month, a-and I thought that the morning sickness was because of the stress of my job…” you hiccuped, Jungkook’s heart broke seeing you like that.

But in reality, this was all his plan. He wanted to get you pregnant for as long as he could remember. The first time he ever saw you, he fell head over heels for you, fast and hard.

You were beautiful, ethereal and perfect, you were a goddess that anyone would kill to have.

And that’s exactly what he did. But still, that was not enough to secure you from slipping up from him.

He couldn’t bring himself to risk losing you.

So that’s why he replaced your birth control pills with fake ones. Of course you didn’t know that.

He just couldn’t believe that he was going to be a dad and you were going to be a mommy.

If Jungkook was being honest, he’d always wanted to make you a mommy.

Oh, you would be such a great mommy… jungkook had been fantasising about this moment for so long, your belly swollen ever so beautifully with his child in your pretty womb…

Jungkook exhaled a shaky breath out as the images flashed before his eyes.

His dream finally came true.

“I-I don’t know what I’m gonna do, koo! What are w-we gonna do! We’re too young for a baby right now!” You panicked.

“I-I’m probably gonna have an abo-NO!” Jungkook’s eyes snapped open at your words, his words boomed across the large walls of his room. “I-I mean, baby relax… please think with a cool mind..” he picked your body up. You stared at him with shocked eyes.

His body felt giddy, he was so happy.

“We’re gonna figure this out together okay? Together…” he kissed your head again, as he nuzzled his nose against yours. “Don’t you worry… we’re gonna be in this… together.” He cooed.

“Baby this is our happy little accident,” he cooed again. Kissing your lips chastely and not giving you a chance to argue.

Was it really though?

The answer was simple, No.

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dcxdpdabbles · 12 days

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Mr Flavor Soda Part 2

Mr. Flavor's Soda gains traction once the creator starts selling in a fixed place. Anthony's Pasta also grows in customers when word gets out that there is a surefire way of crossing paths with Mr. Flavor on Mondays and Fridays.

It's mainly because Mr. Flavor has gained a reputation for being hard to find. It was almost as if he vanished from one side of the city to the next without so much as a hint of how he got there.

However, that didn't mean he wasn't well known. He was a young teenager, likely fifteen or so, who always rushed about Gotham doing questionable parkour.

People had seen him climb up fire escapes only to do crazy leaps, looking to be aiming for his knees to break on each landing. He was spotted doing cartwheels across walking lanes, sometimes going over the hoods of cars that stopped on the lines instead of around.

He deliberately looked for the most haunted places in Gotham, walking with a traveling tea set because "the ghosts like to have tea parties." He had picnics in the middle of dark alleys, asking the air if it would like a second cup but pouring nothing from his teacup.

People were often confused by his responses when speaking to him. Nothing he said was particularly bad, but it showed his severe social awkwardness.

Customers walked away bemused but holding bottles of delicious beverages.

Another odd thing about the boy was his refusal to sell any of his creations for more than a single dollar. Nothing in Gotham was cheap. A regular Zesti was at least two dollars and nineteen cents, but Mr. Flavor looked appalled to charge so much.

A kid claiming to be among the original group that discovered Mr. Flavor, bestowing him the nickname, quoted the strange soda maker as saying, "If someone gives me a dollar, then I am one dollar richer. But if someone gives me two dollars, then they are two dollars poorer instead of only one."

It sounded humble on the surface, but it didn't really answer the questions the kid had originally asked him which were: "Why do you only charge a dollar? Why not more?"

Some people in Gotham were weary of Mr. Flavor. He didn't sound all quite there in the head. He wasn't near the level of insanity of the supervillains running around, but it wouldn't be a surprise if they all woke up one day to find out Mr. Flavor had snapped.

The remaining skeptics also regarded his drinks with cautious eyes. Despite his claims and the word of Red Hood, many wondered if Mr. Flavor was putting some kind of drug in his drink, hoping to spread it to the masses with his cheap prices.

If he was even selling soda at all.

Zesti is a familiar and beloved brand, but Mr. Flavor was once seen tasting the beverage and shouting, "Is this cream soda?!" He then bought one bottle or can of every soda option from the same gas station.

Each one was apparent "cream soda" according to Mr. Flavor. It was confirmed that the drinks the young boy made were far from the flavor of what they considered soda.

Now, Tim didn't see anything wrong with that. Jason had brought back samples of the other's work, and though the ingredients were interesting, they were ultimately confirmed to be soda. Or as close to soda as Mr. Flavor claimed it was.

He was just a bit eccentric while wandering Gotham. Nothing to worry about. Tim, knowing Jason, Bruce- and maybe even Dick with how determined his eldest brother was to try one of the sodas- had everything regarding Mr. Flavor under control; he chose to turn his attention to a series of missing people reports hitting Old Gotham.

There was no visible connection with the victims besides all having long chestnut hair. Age, gender, and social class didn't matter to whoever was taking these people- and Tim knew they were being taken. Tim found it strange that people who vanished were last seen near the same area, having built a map showcasing they were being targeted within a triangle that covered well-known shopping districts.

It was a bit of ground to cover, but Tim figured if he wandered around there long enough, he would attract the kidnapper's attention. He opened his closet, dusted off his old wig, and an hour later, Caroline Hill made her way over to Old Gotham.

Tim originally hated his Caroline Hill as he did not like disguising himself as a woman, but over time, he grew to adore how easily he could change her backstory and his mannerisms to fit with whoever Caroline was that day.

Sometimes, Caroline was a first-year medical student working through clinicals and rotations. She was overworked, under a lot of stress from her assignments, and didn't have time to be distracted by a social life, much less a man asking her out.

Sometimes Caroline was a highschool student who enjoyed community service. She was friendly, outgoing, and more then willing to take the lead in projects. She was naive and sheltered not losing faith in people quite yet.

Other times, Caroline was a high school dropout who didn't know what she wanted. She would apply to any job that would hire her, dreaming of leaving Gotham one day to find a dream to chase. To her, life was dull and meaningless.

Caroline was even a fashion model once. She was famous for her streetwear outfits and gorgeous selt-taken shots. Tim was proud to say her submission to LexCorp's phone promotion contest was still being broadcast, and she received checks for her work. She oozed confidence as a woman who knew what and when she wanted it.

It showed in her walk as she strutted down Old Gotham, stopping to enter any clothing Boutique she saw under the pretense of looking for an outfit for a big-shot party. She was dressed like the world was her runway, but not a red carpet.

If anything, she dressed like a woman who used to live in Old Gotham during its glory days, gracefully wearing the vintage outfit.

Her attire drew the eye of more than one person, especially when she ran her hand through her long, lush hair, making it fall smoothly against her lower back.

Tim figured model Caroline would be a much more tempting target, mainly because she carelessly browsed the various shops and little cafes. Anyone who watched her could tell she was unaware of her surroundings, and Tim had to carefully ensure they never doubted her blindness for even a second.

It was well; he was in an antique shop, glancing at lipstick holders, when something finally happened. The door swung open with a bang, and he allowed himself to jump as it would be something Caroline would do.

"Sorry! I gave the door a little too much razzle instead of dazzle!" a voice yells. Tim twists around to see a boy his age, with wild black hair—as if he did try to run a comb through it, but the strains refused to yield—and big, sparkling, far too aqua eyes.

Was he wearing cheap color contacts? Or was he a meta?

"No problem, Danny." Ms. Pinkney, the owner, a sweet woman who had refused to marry and was now approaching her sixties, smiled back. "Are you here again to play with Cyrus?"

"Yup, I'm going to beat him today." The boy chirps, walking over to a display that was roped off. He didn't seem to care for the sign on the red rope that read "WARNING: HAUNTED BY ANGRY SPIRIT" as he stepped over it.

It was the notoriously cursed chessboard and the two original armchairs from the eighteen hundreds.

Tim knew of the rumor that the man responsible for Gotham's architectural style- Cysrus Pinkney- had been in the middle of a chess game with his friend Solomon Wayne on the eve of his fortieth birthday when he had died.

He had been poisoned in the middle of a large party thrown by Henry Cobblepot, and no one to this day knew who his murder had been. Following Pinkney's death, terrible things happened to anyone who tried to sit or even move the chessboard. Sounds of chess pieces clicking on the board, low mutters in a man's voice, and even the chair moving back and forth began to appear.

Figthen that Cysrus still lingered; Henry had gifted Cysrus's wife the two chairs, the board, and the table it sat on. She took it home and learned that only she and her children were allowed near Cysrus.

He attacked all the others, including Solomon and his other best friend, Amadeus Arkham. The attacks were so bad that everyone eventually knew not to bother Cysrus.

He became an Urban Legend of Gotham, and many tourists would travel to Old Gotham just to gawk at the Pinkey's haunted family heirlooms.

Tim watched him confidently sit in an armchair before a chessboard. He gave the opposite chair across from him a wide smile. "Hiya Cyrus."

A lamp near Tim was flung at the boy, who took the hit with a laugh. "No need to be rude."

The lamp shattered against the ground, appearing to have been lifted again, only to fall as the boy reached out and moved a pawn. Tim's stomach dropped. His experience with Greta had taught him that ghosts were very real and, when their deaths were left unsolved, often very violent.

This guy had no idea what he was dealing with.

He opens his mouth when the teenager is suddenly flung from his seat, flying across the room and smashing against the wall. Ms. Pinkney laughs as if she just saw a toddler throw a fit.

"Honestly, grandfather, must you be so rude? Danny is just trying to play with you."

Tim watches her hair shift as if someone- or something- was ruffling her hair. Yikes, it was a poltergeist who unliked Greta was not visible but able to touch anything he pleased.

"Knight G1 to F3!" Danny yells, climbing to his feet. The scraping sounds of something being dragged across the floor as Danny twists around with his arms spread wide as a very large wardrobe rushes at him. He welcomed the attack like an old friend, nose cracking as it broke.

"Going Ghost!" Danny screams through his blood, landing on the ground as the wardrobe nearly crushes him.

Tim's mouth drops open. He's taunting Cyrus!? Not challenging his existence but straight up taunting the angered spirit?!

"Grandfather!" Ms. Pinkney scowls. "Stop this at once! You're usually more friendly than this. Danny is a guest!"

"It's okay, Ms. P! I think it's almost Cyrus' death day. All ghosts tend to get a little cranky around that time. Besides we're scaring the lady."

It takes an embarrassing amount of time for " lady" Danny to refer to him as he still wears Caroline. It's enough for the boy to leap to his feet, pat himself down—ignoring the broken nose—and strut to Tim.

Before the undercover man can say anything, Danny yanks out a bottle and hands it over. "Sorry about that, ma'am. Here, I have one on the house."

A Mr.Flavor bottle is thrust into his hands; the bubbling clear water with the leaping boy has green and yellow undertones. It's the only difference to the bottle Jason showed him not too long ago.

The teenager smiles, his teeth colored red. "You're quite pretty. Have a good day! Don't let your drink get warm!"

Then he skipped right out.

"Wha?" He blinks, and Ms. Pinkney slides right up to him with a ruthful smile.

"I know what you're thinking. I don't believe Danny is eccentric, but he has a good heart." She starts carefully, studying Tim's face with far too much intensity. It's not the kind of attention that one gives someone who they are just trying to convince to leave someone else alone. Her eyes linger on his wing for a few seconds too long.

Isn't her shop smack in the middle of the missing people's map? Interesting.

"Who was that?" He says instead, making sure Caroline's voice sounds breathy and sweet.

She smiles "Danny. But most know him as Mr.Flavor."

Tim looks at the bottle in his hands, feeling the ice-cold beverage- did he just pull it out of a freezer?- and unclips it to have a sip. It's nothing like soda, but it is at the same time.

It was far smoother than other sodas, with far more bubbles, and the flavor made his tastebuds sing.

"Oh, looks like you got Sprite. That's one of my favorites," Ms Pinkney comments. "Rare that one. Danny usually sells out by now."

"Does he come here often?"

The old woman laughs. "I'm afraid you're barking up the wrong tree, dearie."

Not what he meant, but if it kept his new number one suspect to chat more, he is fine with the assumption.

"Does he not like girls?" Tim asks, allowing his features to pull into a pout. He is very grateful that her made Caroline young enough to pass for his own real age.

"I don't believe he likes humans, I'm afraid. Male or female."

Huh?

But Ms. Pinkney's attention was distracted by the chess board, which shook slightly as the pieces previously moved by Mr. Flavor returned to their starting positions. She walked over to carefully lift up the thrown wardrobe.

Tim is quick to help her, slowly restoring the shop to its former glory. It's only after they finish that the old lady glances in the direction in which Mr. Flavor disappeared.

"Grandfather Cyrus is my great-great-great-great-grandfather. It's easier for me to call him grandfather since he's been around for generations, but his closeness has made the family tree a bit sensitive to the paranormal. I'm unsure what Danny is, but he doesn't feel human." She sighs. "I doubt he will find what he is looking for if he continues going about things like this."

"Like what?" Tim asks, stepping closer. "What's Danny looking for?"

The old woman's dark eyes chill down his spine as she gazes at him. "Death."

In the corner of Tim's eye, a man sitting at a chess set nods his head. He decides it's a good time to end his daily undercover work. Tim leaves, strutting with less grace as his mind recounts everything he knows about Mr. Flavor.

He is unaware of the person watching him from the alley, eyes tracing the lovely mane of chestnut hair. The grin that blooms over their face is nothing else but hungry.

#dcxdpdabbles #dcxdp crossover #Mr.Flavor #Part 2 #Tim's pov #Danny is really weird #a true Willy Wonka #Tim is on a case #And Danny is still trying to force his other form #Picking fights with ghosts should work #Not sure if I'll make this Dead Tired or gen yet #Hope I made the haunting a little creepy

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sh1-n0bu · 8 months

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𝔫𝔬𝔟𝔲’𝔰 𝔨𝔦𝔫𝔨𝔱𝔬𝔟𝔢𝔯 𝔬𝔣 2023!

day 1: bondage/shibari with blade from hsr!

warnings: shibari/bondage obv, subspace, affirmation of consent, cockstepping, forced self praise, nipple stimulation, masochist blade, slight feminization, praise

notes: oh shit, here we go

being in a relationship with blade comes with many surprises and way too many heart attacks. no, really, the amount of times you almost had a heart attack because of this man is insane.

coming back home injured and on the brink of death. sudden reopening of his wounds and stitches because he was so used to pain. or the fact that he literally fell unconscious on your lap because he forgot to eat anything for the last who knows what long?

or even now, when he holds out a red rope, asking you to tie him up like a helpless prey.

it took a lot of tries and failures. wrapping the pretty red rope around the bare skin of your masochistic lover is quite hard when you have zero experience on full body bondage. if it were just hands and legs, you were a master at it. but not when it comes to shibari.

“color?” your voice comes out soft and gentle, tightening the last part of the red rope behind his back. all you got in response was a quiet shuddered breath.

“bladie, color?” fastening the end of the rope behind his back — not too tight, not too loose — your hand comes up to rest atop his head before slowly stroking his hair. that snapped him out of his current thoughts real fast as his hazy ruby eyes shift up to look at you.

“g-green… green” blade nods, gulping down what saliva was being collected in his mouth.

looking down at your handiwork, the stellaron hunter almost lets out a loud moan at the sight. red rope, one that is the same color of his eyes, fastened around his body so prettily. his chest, breasts you like to call whenever you squeeze them, looked bigger than usual. a part of the red rope going down and around his pecs, digging into his skin just enough to remind him of the current action you two were about to do. and his cock, standing angry red and proud.

he was hard. embarrassingly so.

you haven’t done anything but tie him up to his request and oh gods, he was already so embarrassingly hard.

if you were to see his arousal and the slight pre already on his tip, what would you do? would you scold him? call him mean and degrading names? would you leave him untouched and desperate for hours? would you slap his cock and make him cry and sob in a twisted sense of pleasure and pain?

a hand comes to rest on his chest, momentarily snapping him out of his thoughts. oh, what would you do? what would you do to him? your poor, pathetic, helpless lover.

“my sweet bladie. look at you, staying there all tied up like a little prey” he briefly hears your voice call out, hands starting to fondle and squeeze his pecks. unconsciously, he pushed his chest further into your hand, wanting more of your sweet touches. it felt like his entire body was on fire and only your hand could soothe him. or even make it worse.

“do you like it, dear? does my pretty boy like it when i fondle his tits like that?” he lets out an embarrassingly loud noise at your words. a pathetic sound that’s akin to a mewl that a cat in heat makes. without even noticing, his hips stutter in his position on the rug covered floor as well.

“such a cute and round breasts you have, my love. so full. they fit in my hand so prettily. do you think if i suck on your pretty nipples for long enough, you would start lactating?”

oh. oh no. just that mental image or the thought of having your mouth wrapped around his areola had him whining out loudly. rutting his hips on the material of the soft rug desperately as he tries to make your words a reality. oh, would you help him out if that actually does end up becoming real? would you suck and stimulate his nerves so often and too much to the point that he would actually start lactating just like a woman would? would you suck on his leaking milk?

such vile thoughts that made him squirm on his place on the floor with a long, drawn-out whine. who would have ever thought your stoic looking lover would be such a weak little thing.

not that you minded it. you loved it actually. all the more reasons to circle a thumb around his hardened bud, making him twitch and buck his hips, searching for the tiniest bits of friction to his poor leaking cock.

"ah right. how mean of me. i forgot about your little problem" you let out a soft coo, deciding to try out a new thing as well. no point in backing out now. your sweet boy was already a mess on the floor with just a few touches and caresses. might as well help him out and fulfill his fantasies.

"color?" you ask again, one of your feet lightly resting on his stomach, pressing lightly, just enough pressure to cause blade to gain his words again from wherever his pretty mushy brain is swimming in once he gets to this state.

understanding the implications of your words and what you were asking affirmation for, blade couldn't help but nod his head a little too eagerly. the dirty and vile side of him wanting what exactly it was you were offering. the dark and more twisted part of him just wanted you to do that already. to take what you wanted without asking, make him scream, jolt, sob from the suddenness of it all.

but of course, you would never do that. you were so caring of him. makes him wonder how he even was lucky enough to have you as his own lover.

"my love, i need to hear you use your words" your voice sounded a bit harsher than he remembered. did he made you mad? disappointed? sad? he didn't meant to! poor little blade was just too damn lost in his own little space. all thanks to the rope and the suffocating amount of trust he blindly puts in you.

"green... please? aeons, please just touch me" his response was sluggish. slow. slurred. drunken and lost in the hazy grips of pleasure and anticipation. that was all you needed.

with a comforting headpat, the feet that you had placed on his stomach slowly trailing down before coming to rest over his hard on. just a simple buck of his hips and he can get to feel you step down on his cock. the thought had blade already panting and drooling. but you haven’t even touched him yet. what a perverted boy, he was.

slowly but gently, you pressed down on his arousal before putting just enough pressure to cause him to let out gasps and loud whines. it felt good. you felt good. you were making him feel so good and blade? oh, he could never be happier nor could he ever thank you enough for it.

“t-thank you…! gunhhg thankyou thankyo—oounpp!!! gccck♡︎!” the man blabbers on drunkenly, his hips twitching as he tries to rut up into your feet further to make you just stomp on his pathetic cock. he would love that so much. the disgusting, masochist part of him would love that so fucking much.

“you’re my pretty boy, right? my sweet toy. my cute prey. my darling blade, right? you’re still my good bladie, right?” he could briefly hear you hum so sweetly. voice like a honey on his fried brain. in response, all blade could do was nod and nod eagerly like a pup. hands straining against the pretty red ropes that you tied around him.

“words, blade” the hand that was still playing and squeezing at him breast — god he completely forgot about your hand there — squeezes at his hardened nipple before pulling on it slightly. that was a warning for him to use his words. to repeat back what you said to him like a broken record. or else, you would probably deny touching him all-together and your sweet boy would hate that.

“guuh— i am! i am i am! ‘m your good boy. y-your sweet boy! ‘m still your cute bladie nyaah♥︎!” that last part slipped out unconsciously. he could barely even form any words now. just pathetically humping the rug and your feet that’s pressed down on his leaking cock, face pressed against the side of your thigh as his noises become more loud and debouched.

all he knew was to keep repeating the words you said. there was no need for him to think. why would he have the need to think when you were right there in front of him, helping him and being so cruel yet so sweet to him? blade didn’t needed to use his head when with you.

so, he just simply kept parroting your words through jumbled heap of mess. how he was your toy. your cute prey. your good boy. your love, blade. yours, yours, yours, yours—!

“uuunghh! mmpf-fuck! fuckfuckfuck! n-nnyaaghh♡︎♡︎!” twitching violently on his place on the floor, the immortal tries to break free from the ropes keeping his hands tied tightly to his sides. blade had always been a touchy guy, wanting to scratch your back, sides, hips, wherever his hands could reach. and yet he couldn’t. not this time and it’s all because of what he said and his own wishes.

so, he simply settles on mewling embarrassingly loud as his hips stutter in place, cock cumming untouched as he tries to hide his drooling face into the soft flesh of your thighs, soiling your feet with his own cum.

“g-gcckk.. m-more… unngh need you t-to fill me up” blade mumbles, voice muffled as he rubs his cock against your feet. he was already hard again and the skin on skin contact stung whenever he slowly humped your leg. oh but he loved it.

the red ropes matched his flushed cheeks and bleary eyes perfectly. so, who are you to stop now and deny your sweet boy?

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upsidedownwithsteve · 6 months

Text

DAY ONE: Steve Harrington x fem!reader Steve was sure this was worse than his Scoops Ahoy uniform. It had to be. It had bells.

Robin had simply rolled her eyes and told him to be grateful she’d managed to get them both something that paid this time of year, so Steve muttered something under his breath and jammed the hat on his head.

He jingled when he walked.

The green and red outfit was a kind of velvet, shorts above his thighs and striped tights that made his leg look like candy canes. The hat had a bell on the end of it and so did his fucking shoes, two gold balls on the tips of toes and he sounded like a christmas carol as he called the next kid in line.

“Santa’s ready to see you, buddy, just go through the curtain.”

Being one of the mall’s Christmas elves was definitely rock bottom. Steve was sure of it. But then you appeared above the crowd of kids crying and yelling for Santa Claus, shouldering past the tired looking parents. You had a few bags in one hand, filled with presents and wrapping paper, a takeaway cup of something hot and sweet in the other.

“Please tell me that’s for me,” Steve mumbled appreciatively, groaning when you handed him the coffee. He took a sip, cheeks flushed pink, eyes rolling back in theatrical pleasure. “Have I told you how much I love you today?”

You grinned, nose still scrunching at his flirting, even years later. “You have, but I’m not opposed to hearing it again.”

Steve beamed, eyes brighter than they had been before you approached and he took you by the crook of your elbow, pulling you behind the ramshackle frame that ached as Santa’s grotto. He mouthed a quick plea to Robin, who merely sighed and took up the boy’s position at the front of the queue, doing her best to wrangle the kids.

Now hidden, Steve ducked down to kiss at your cheek, feeling brave enough to catch the corner of your mouth. He tasted like coffee and vanilla and you hummed, accepting his thanks with the upturn of your face.

“Bad day?” You pouted.

“Kids are insane,” Steve huffed back. “And their moms are worse. Y’know one tried to pinch my butt?”

You snorted, unable to take the boy seriously, not when his hat jingled as he shook his head. “My poor guy,” you soothed, biting back a grin. “It’s ’cause you’re such a hot elf.”

Steve made a face. “I don’t think that’s possible, it’s the hat, y’know? It’s ruining my hair, it’s so—”

You moved closer, tugging at one of the gold buttons that ran down the centre of Steve’s chest, your fingers slipping between. “Well, I like it. You look adorable.”

You watched Steve swallow, cheeks going pink, eyes darkening as his gaze slipped to your lips, to your hands and the way your fingers were trying to seek out the warm skin under his uniform. “You do?”

You nodded, grinning.

“I mean, adorable wasn’t really what I was aiming for…”

“No?” You pressed yourself onto your toes, shopping bags crinkling between your knees and Steve’s. You found his lips for a kiss, a sweet one - soft and gentle, the slightest peck that Steve tried to chase. “I could just spend all day on your lap, telling you what I wanted for Christmas.”

Lips parting, Steve almost dropped his coffee. He coughed, cleared his throat once, twice and blinked away the spell you’d cast on him. He nodded vigorously, the little bell of the end of his hat tinkling rapidly. He was red in the cheeks, flushed to his fake, pointed ears and he looked like he was struggling to remember where he was.

“You can- you can totally do that, yeah.”

“Yeah?” You asked through a laugh, brows raised. “Come see me after work?” You were already backing away, returning to the throng of kids that were pushing at Robin’s knees.

Steve was still nodding, pushing a palm to his crotch, cheeks on fire. “Yeah, yeah, fuck— I’ll come round.”

You grinned, pleased with yourself. “Good. Bring the hat.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington blurb #EAC23

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loaksbitch · 1 year

Text

ok this is based on request, but imagine jake sully fucking you with pure hated cause your existence alone fucking irritates him yet he can’t keep his hand off of you yes? HECK YES

warning(s) – enemies with benefits, angry sex, mean jake, clit stimulation, overstimulation, cervix fucking, dumbfication, owning kink (if that’s a thing), cussing, orgasm denial, choking, slight hair pulling, cum stuffing, reader is a bratty minx too.

jake was sat across the hut, reshaping his arrow tip to hunt for later and very much annoyed on how youre in front of him, chewing on your thumbnail so fucking loud, on eywa you’re was so bitchy.

for the past half hours he was trying so hard to block out the chewing sound yet nothing helped, especially with your very aware self doing that purposely.

“can you stop doing that?” jake huffs, doing his best to control his growing anger and hatred.

“what?” you say with an attitude, a brow arched and giving him a stare.

you and you’re fucking attitude. jake licks his lips, tongue poking through his cheek. “that, stop chewing loud you’re distracting me.” he says, pointing to where his reshaped arrows are.

you click your tongue, nodding your head to the door. “if you’re disturbed, the door is that way.” your words are pushing him on edge, wanting to rip you and do things, you on other hand was also feeling the same and you want him away from your sight.

“this place is not yours.” he spat, tone showing a tint of anger. you’re hitting jackpot. “and it’s not yours.” you bite back.

a deep growl leaves his chest, jake frowning as he starts to speed his knife against the wooden arrow. he decides to ignore you, thinking it’s the best to steam down his anger, fuck he really hates you it’s making his cock twitch.

you’re not done with him, especially after yesterday night when he literally scared the cute na’vi male who was talking to you away. this bitch deserves to go crazy with your existence.

“slow down.” you say, voice high and pushing him to the edge. “i swear to God, y/n if you don’t shut the fu—“ you dare to cut him off, you fucking cut him off and his nostrils flared.

“you might not want to cut those fingers, do you?” you tease, empathizing with the fact he has five fingers and is different from the na’vi’s.

he blinks, eyes twitching and triggered before he snaps his head to yours.

“i’m sick of your bitchy self today.” he tries to humble you but you find ways to slap his face with your fiery mouth. “and i'm sick of your bitchy self every day.” you say and jake loudly hissed, amber eyes strictly glaring at you.

“fuck you.” he grumbles

“fuck you.” you hiss back.

done with his shit, you decide to leave and get on your feet. he smirks, lips opening to get on your nerves. “leaving already?” you don’t reply, only one plan in your mind. you’re gonna destroy this man.

intentionally, you walk over to where reshaped and non shaped separated arrows are and nudge your leg to them. you feel them tumble, falling and mixing together. “oops.” you giggle,

jakes’ smirk drops, fading so quickly, this was the last string of patience he had. he lets a terrific chuckle out and your body shivers, maybe you’ve taken it too far.

“you little bitch.” he was now on his feet, walking to you and grabbing you by your hair. you two always ended up in a fight, him not caring if you're a female or you not caring if he was male. you just go for it, punching him when he dared to touch your hair.

“the fuck do you think you’re doing?” you turn to him, face red with anger as well. you’ve always hated when someone had you by your hair. you poke on his chest, pushing him while you knew this drives him insane with maddens cause he hates getting pushed too.

“don’t. push. me.”

both of your eyes were on fire and burning holes to each other’s skull. you swallow nervously yet hold your ground and not let him see how he was intimidating you.

“don’t be an asshat and you won’t be pushed.” you said quietly.

“fuck you.” he says, voice to deep.

“fuck you.” you’re on your tiptoes now, chin raised high to show you’re not scared or bottoming out.

without any warnings his lips were on yours, hot and wet as he takes your lips and devour you. anger was still in him but the lust is winning. both of you are fighting until he was biting on your lips and making you involuntarily moan.

it was his chance, tongue being shoved inside your mouth and being tied. he moans to the kiss. jake suddenly pulls you closer and you whine, hands skimming to his chest and push him away.

he licks his lips, eyes lingering on your lips before lifting to see your eyes. you wipe your lips with your arm, spitting on the floor with disgust. oh trust me, you were so fucking turned on but had to pretend.

“don’t wipe my kiss off your lips.” he demands and you scoff, wiping more and watch his eyes squint, a chuckle leaving him.

“fine then, i’ll mark you all over your body and see if you can wipe it.” he spits and you’re being scooped to his shoulder.

you don’t fight cause you know you want this, but at the same time you’re nervous.

before you know it, you’re being thrown to the hammock, jake crawling on top of you and you almost moan at the sight. “what the fuck are you doing?” you ask, not letting him have a chance to know you’re wanting him right now.

“i think your sexy ass knows exactly what i’m doing.” your inside twists, pussy pulsing at his words. he doesn’t miss how your legs close themselves and he nods, smirking. “that turns you, doesn't it?” you look away when he holds onto your knees and forces them open.

“fuck you.” you say again and this time jake grins. “please do.” he begs this time.

he was between your legs, your loincloth getting ripped away and him untying his gently. he’s so passive aggressive. “i’m gonna fuck you till you’re screaming my name only.” he leans to nudge on your cheek with his nose.

“fuck off, i’m not doing–“ jake was again kissing you, rough and angry that almost breaks your skin. your legs are roughly pushed wider. “i fucking hate you.” he reminds you and anger bubbles in you, “i fucking hate you too–hngh..!” you struggle to answer when pleasure strikes you as jake cups your heat.

“you’re so fucking wet.” your eyes almost roll up to your head, his husky voice being too much. jake was admiring the way he bruised your blue skin when he was marking your neck.

jake trails hot wet kisses down your cleavage and to your breast. you drew a deep breath between your teeth when he took your nipple. jake locked his eyes with yours when he tugged on your nipple, letting it roll between his teeth. the sharpness of his teeth scraping on your nipple and making you shudder.

he leaned back, getting on his knees and glaring at you as he told you how he is proud with the effect he had on you with his eyes. your temper was flaring.

you pull your legs to your chest and try to close them but jake was fast. “uh-uh.” he grips onto your ankle and yanks your legs back open. you grit your teeth, fighting him and his masculine ass to get off of you.

“baby.” he sternly calls and you freeze, “the fuck did you just call me?” you slap his hand away from you when he tries to reach and brush your messy hair from your forehead. “i ain’t your baby.” you growl.

“fine, you want it the hard way?” he spits. “i’ll fuck you then.”

you’re getting pushed back and pinned to the hammock. “fucking stay like that or else…” he threats and you scoff. “no, you don’t tell me what to you, i’m not yours to obey around.”

“you’re not mine?” he arched his brow and you're silent, looking away and staring at the roof until hands are firm, grip on your jaw turns you and makes you meet his gaze. “you’re not mine?” of course at the end of the day you’re his.

“yes, you don’t own me.” every time his nostrils flared, you were very happy because he was getting upset. “we will see about that.” and then he was leaning down to capture your other breast that didn’t get attention.

you were fast to throw your head back, moaning when you felt him lightly bite on your bud and make you squirm under him. you didn’t realize you were pushing his head away from your chest until jake was grabbing your wrist and throwing it away.

right then you arch your back for him to suck on your nipple more he stops and you whine. “you’re not mine huh? you sure you don’t want to take that back?” you huff, eyes telling him you’re not changing your mind.

“yeah,” you spit, watching him grin, “is that so?” he says.

“yes, because you’re— argh!” you groan when his other hand roughly parts your fold and sinks in until his knuckle is a barrier. jake was so rough when he fingers you, your cunt squeezing him deliciously.

your eyes widen when you catch his cock jump and point straight to the roof, precum leaking from the angry tip of his dick. he can imagine how warm and tight you are.

“relax.” he curls his finger inside you, thumb flicking your clit. “relax for me.” he hates you yet look at him going all ‘relax for me’ on you.

“you’re so pathetic, so fucking dumb on my fingers.” he pulls his two fingers out before shoving them in you.

“who am i?” he asks and your answer causes him to curl his fingers inside you. “you’re an asshole!” you mweled. “asshole? i’m an asshole?” jake pinches on your thigh when you try to close them on his hand.

“c’mon pretty, i know you’re better than that. who am i?”

you’re silent, only soft breath leaving you. jake can feel how you pulse on his fingers, telling him you’re about to come. “what the–“ your eyes shoot open when you feel jake pull his hands away from you.

“open your legs wider, be fast.” for once you do as you’re told and jake hums, pleased.

“you’re not gonna get that far until you say you’re mine.” he was very serious and you gulped. you’re spread open and jake closes his eyes when the scent of your leaking slick hits his nose.

you smell so tempting and delicious.

your gaze follows him when he settles between your legs. “gonna fuck some sense into you now.” you throbbed when you said that, feeling your wetness leaking out of you fast and clenching on nothing but air.

jake held both of your legs, pushing them up to your chest and folding you half. it was his turn to squat, watching your exposed and pink folds shining as his angry tip circles on the slit.

“please,” you catch yourself slipping, pride somehow demolished. jake was surprised, “what? can’t hear you.” he gives you an attitude.

you don’t fight back, just wanting to be filled with his dick. “please i need you inside me.” he wasn’t up for teasing now. he needed you as much as you needed him. “fuuuck.” he moans, watching your face attentively when your jaw hungs open.

pain and pleasure hit you, he was not giving you any time to get accustomed to his length. jake thrusts into you, angry and rough.

“you’re mine?” he asks, taking advantage of your hazy mind but you’re no near to being hazy. “fuck off.” you hiss when he pushes your leg to your chest more, almost blocking your lungs from your stretching.

“hm, i’m asking you in a minute and i’ll need you to get it right yeah?” you only moan. jake pressed his body to your folded leg, grabbing your hips and titling your pelvis. you scream when he hits the right spot.

hands sought to his broad shoulders and pushed him when he ruined your tight cunt, it was painful when he started to slip in more. jake can’t help but get shocked when he fucks you open. his cock was literally in your cervix.

“it hurts.” you whine but jake only shushes you. hands wiping on the tears that appear on your eyes. “shh, you’re okay. i’m just so deep, f-fuck don’t do that.” he grips on your hips when you tighten on him. your warm breath hits his lips on how close he is and pressing himself on you.

hands that were wiping your tears slides to hold onto your wrists that keep pushing him away and moving them away from him. “who am i, baby?” you’re now completely gone, his dick controlling your brain and body, even your breath when he ruts to you.

tears are leaking from your eyes as he keeps thrusting into you, abusing your walls and bruising them. you moan and cry louder, nothing making sense with the pleasure and pain you’re feeling.

your breath shortens when jake wraps his large hand on your throat, oh mother eyw—

“who am i?” his tone changes on the last word and you scream? giving in easily. “jake! jake sully!” you cry out, orgasm bubbling in you, you want it out of you, the growing pressure. you want jake to rip it out of you.

“okay, that’s it.” he pats your temple, “ seems like ’m knocking some sense in you.”

“now,” he kisses your forehead, hate still bubbling in him. “you’re mine, yeah?” you wanted to shake your head. wanted to punch him. wanted to…

“c’mon, say it and i’ll give you what you need.”

“i’m yours, i’m yours, i’m yours.” the moment you said it, jake felt something in him burn with ego. you’re his, you gave yourself to him. no going back now.

“good fucking girl.” he huffs, pulling out of you and causing you to cry, like seriously cry loud and he spreads your leg apart, hands wrapping on your waist before he helps you get on him.

your ass sets against his strong thighs and you moan when he easily slipped inside you.

“JAKE!” you yell when he pushes you down, bottoming out before grazing on your earlobe. “you’re mine, you get it? a part of you is mine and i own you.” you hate how his words made your insides clench.

tears are shed, heart in pain with no reason. “i hate you.” you tell him and he smiles, pulling you close to him and hugging you as he fucks himself in you. “i hate you too.” jake chuckles when you hide yourself on his chest.

“i’m gonna cum…” you whine, feeling the man holding you close. “i got you, i’m here.” at this point the hate is confusing because jake doesn’t know what he is feeling any more.

you let go, trusting the man you hate the most and coming. he was soon taking your step, manly whining and hiding himself to the crook of your neck. “shit.” he moans, loading himself in you.

he suddenly feels you pushing him away and hips buckling causing him to slip out of you. he was about to ask what was wrong until glaring at him with pure rage.

“this never happened.” you bark and watch him confused and try to understand. “what?” he innocently asks and you point at him then, down to his semi-hard cock. “this, me and you. we never did it.”

right then it hits him, jake gets that you don’t want this to get out of you two, it was like a dirty secret and jake felt annoyed. “you don’t want no one to know?” you’re quick to nod. “yes.” as much as he wants to show you off.

if you want this then he got you, he was gonna bite his tongue and sit back and you watch him hesitate before nodding.

“good.” you state and move from him to fetch on your loincloth. he only stares at you, the tension you both had a while ago long gone and his amber eyes following you as the mean man he was before disappeared. you don’t even spare him a look as you dress and leave the hut.

too confused and trying to process what just happened.

like + reblog is very appreciated but not pressured! i love each and everyone of you sm!

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daenysx · 21 days

Note

using the safeword with aemond targaryen pls !!!!! 🤍

going back to my aemond era because apparently ewan mitchell will not stop bewitching the fandom! if you have any requests for aemond you can send them my way!! ♡

modern!aemond targaryen x fem!reader, nsfw

aemond presses his hips against yours for countless times. he stays behind you with your knees on bed and one of his hands on your lower back as the other one holds your wrists. he moves again, hits a deeply sweet spot and you make a crying sound.

your face is buried to the pillow with tear stains on your cheeks because everything feels too good. aemond keeps moving, you feel on edge every second like your body is on fire. you are desperate when you push yourself back to him, your legs are close to give up.

"please." you say against the pillow. "aemond, please."

his body is covered with a delicious layer of sweat, his naked torso on display. you can see him if you turn your head enough. he presses on your back as he moves his cock against you, wet noises fill the air. aemond groans, tilts his head back to reveal his pretty neck. if only you could give him a kiss right now. you moan his name again but he doesn't hear.

"so good." he says. "so good, do you hear that?"

the praise sends a warmth to your stomach, your legs are shaking but he keeps you still. you can feel a teardrop falling on the fabric of the pillow. your brain goes numb, there's only him and his sounds, his scent and his praises. "yes- yes, such a good girl. push yourself against me one more time."

you try to do as he says, it doesn't feel like you succeed though. "aemond-"

"one more- give me one more."

"yes, you can." he says, breathless. "my good girl never disappoints me, does she? of course you can."

"i can't." you whine, a sound mixed with moaning.

you feel your breath getting stuck in your throat and suddenly your legs give up. you can sense a liquid dripping down your thighs but it doesn't feel like a relief. the words get caught on your mouth, you panic as you try to hold aemond's hand. "red- red."

everything stops. you don't even realize it's because of the word you say. you can't even look at aemond, a spark of embarrassment flashes on your cheeks, your heartbeat goes insane. he leans in slowly, still deep inside you. he's careful as he fixes your hair on one side to see your face.

"it's okay." he says, gently. "i'm gonna pull out now, okay?"

you manage to give him a nod and a whimper when he pulls himself back. it's the feeling of emptiness you hate the most, he's still hard and he carefully leaves the bed to wear his boxers.

you tear up again, can't help yourself. it's a rush of emotions, you don't know how to deal with them all. you feel desperate, just laying on bed naked and speechless.

aemond comes to your side, sitting on bed. he puts a slow hand on your cheek to dry your tears. he has an understanding look on his face, his hair messed up and skin sweaty from sex. you can see the outline of his cock from the thin fabric, he doesn't wear anything else.

"i'm-" you start, your voice sounds scratchy. "i'm sorry, i just-"

"don't finish that sentence." he says, his thumb rubbing your cheek. "you did the right thing."

you force yourself to turn on bed, facing him properly. you are naked too, and a bit cold but it's okay. "i didn't want to disappoint you." you say with a low voice.

"you could never disappoint me." he says, even softer this time. "i'm so proud of you."

"you are?"

"of course i am, sweetheart." he leans in to kiss your forehead. "you did the right thing. if one of us doesn't feel good there's no point of having sex."

"i was feeling good." you say, holding his hand like an anchor. "it was a bit much and- it didn't feel right."

"it's okay." he says. "it's totally okay."

you try to sit, aemond helps you. he pulls you to his lap to give you the cuddles you want, his long arms holding your body still. you press your nose against his neck, feeling calm as he rubs your back and squeezes your body in his arms. the pressure makes you feel safe, it's not like the one you felt moments ago when he was on top of you. this time you sit on his lap, you have the control. aemond kisses the side of your head, keeps repeating that everything's fine.

"let's clean you up." he says. "i'll fill the tub, is that okay?"

he is panicked too, you realize, afraid he hurt you. he manages to fix the situation for both of you, though, offering any comfort he can provide.

"yes, but-" you say, holding him and keeping him closer than he already is. "you'll get in with me, right?"

he kisses your forehead. "i will."

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x you #aemond x reader #house of the dragon #modern!aemond #hotd #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen x fem!reader #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen fluff #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen fic #aemond targaryen fanfic #modern!aemond smut #modern!aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x you

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xazse · 5 months

Text

AFAB!GOJO X MALE!READER

Hello this is just a shitpost before I go to sleep I’ll edit everything in the morning! Enjoy

NASTYYY SMUT!!!! AND VERY MEAN READER! AND CAR SEX I HOPE YOU GUYS GET THE PICTURE OF THE POSITION I SWEAR ILL EDIT IT TM!

Satoru sleeps with his fair share of women and men, even going as far as to spend the night to satisfy their need for something romantic, but by morning he’s out the door, not caring what happens to said person, he let it be known from the start all he wanted was a quick fuck. Not his fault they confused it for something else.

People around campus who have slept with Gojo can say the night is full of bliss but the morning they’re left with an empty feeling, he really is the best and the worst thing to happen.

So why does Satoru find himself infatuated with you? You who treats him like he’s nothing but an eyesore, it drives him crazy when you deny his advances, no one’s ever denied him: he’s just too pretty for that! You’d have to be crazy to not want to lay with him! Borderline insane! But you, you spark something within him, a primal lust.

When he finally does get you to come around you’re mean, extremely mean: parking behind an abandoned building and position satoru to where the back seat door is open with you standing outside and him laying against the seat with his lower body out the door, it’s super cold out tonight and he regrets wearing the thinnest shorts with no underwear underneath, but all the better to feel the thick outline of your cock as you press yourself against his folds.

“No panties? You’re so gross Toru.” You grumble out whilst looking at his already wet cunt, your fingers dip in and he groans, he likes the thickness of your fingers it makes stretching him out to be so much easier, one fingers turns into two then that turns into three. When you deem him good enough for you, he hears your belt clinking and a loud sigh departing from your lips.

You pull his hair and angle his head back: “You’re average at best Toru, you should be happy I even gave someone as desperate as you a chance, remember I’m only doing this out of pity” you grunt out, Satoru has no feelings for you but he feels his heart clench and disperse at your words. You let him go to focus on lining your fat cock up with his hole, the stretch stings to him, what you “lack” in length you really make up for thickness, most likely the thickest he’s ever taken, you don’t offer him any reassurance when your cock pushes deeper and deeper.

Till you finally bottom out inside, you take a quick pause to admire him, you can’t see his face but already you knew his lips are bitten red, most likely on the verge of crying, you’re so incredibly mean.

You begin to move your hips, starting off slowly, you make sure to pull all the way out and slide right back in, eventually you start slamming into him roughly, uncaring of his startled gasps as he struggles to adjust, your cock feels so good, hitting so deeply inside of him, it’s really a different story when you find his sweet spot and press the tip of your cock against it.

His legs lock inwards, breathing hard into the seat, “This it Satoru?” He can hear the devilish smirk hidden in your voice, you continue to slam your hips against him angling downwards. “so..good” he had managed to slur out. He finds himself trying to paw away from his impending orgasm, he knows it’s gonna ache, knows it’s gonna also feel blissful, your hands grip his waist tighter, meaning to leave ugly bruises later. Pounding into him deep strokes makes him crazy, to add fuel to the fire your hands reach down and circle his clit rough, this action pushes Satoru over the edge and his pussy spasms around you.

He damn near screams, fingers digging deep into your seat, you fuck him through his orgasm, not long after you follow right after him, not even bothering to pull out, he doesn’t ask you to either.

Satoru slumps against your seat, panting and trying his hardest not to fall asleep, he feels your fingers spreading his pussy to admire your work of art.

“Your friend? What’s his name…? You know the pretty one with the long black hair?” Satoru feels his heart drop.

#zsworks #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x male reader #satoru x reader #satoru smut #satoru x male reader #gojo smut #afab gojo #afab Gojo x male reader

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joyoushyuck · 3 months

Text

(minors dni)

requested

19:34

The last bits of your coherence are stripped off of you when Jeno thrusts a vibrator into your wet folds. Your cries of pleasure drown out his low grunts as he drags a veiny hand through the length of his red, pulsating cock.

Your hands are tied to the headboard with Jeno’s belt. The delicious pressure created every time you attempt to tug your hands free borders painful, your arms aching from the lack of movement. Your lips are swollen, bitten raw and absolutely destroyed, chin shining with saliva and cum. A splendid brown bruise sits right above your pulse point, visible for the world to see and know whom you belong to.

Jeno pulls the vibrator out again, moving it on your inner thighs where he knows you are sensitive. The hand stroking his cock switches to teasing your clit instead. Jeno looks so good like this, with his hair mussed up and lips plump, beads of sweat rolling down his face. You want those lips to suck your clit. Jeno has a way of driving you crazy.

When he pushes the vibrator into your hole again, a jolt of pleasure washes over you because it is that spot. And from Jeno’s smug smirk, he damn sure knows what he's doing. He's been edging you for so long, you don't think you'll last long if he doesn't move that toy from your hypersensitive bundle of nerves.

“So good, doll,” he praises. The nickname steals an obscene moan out of you. “So pliant and obedient, all for me.”

“Jeno,” you whine. He's so attractive. The mere sight of him is enough to make you cum. “Please let me cum, please.”

“Not just yet, doll, gotta be patient,” and he says that right before rocking the vibrator on your g-spot. A lone drop of tear slides down your temple because the desperation is bordering insanity now. Your head falls back on the plush pillow, the knot on your stomach tightening with every press of thumb on clit, of toy on sweet spot. It's tortuous. You love it.

You are so close to snapping, nonsensical babbles of “Jeno, Jen, please, please let me come. Baby please, ‘m so close’’ prompting a good laugh out of said man.

Oh! The humiliation. You think that's your final straw, that you're going to break, so close to the edge-

Jeno abruptly pulls the toy out.

The emptiness frustrates you enough to trigger a pathetic sob. Your chest heaves, nipples hard and unattended, eyes brimming with more unshed tears.

“Baby, you are so beautiful,” Jeno murmurs. His eyes have glazed over like he's drunk. The thought that he's drunk on you placates the raging fire in you just the slightest bit. “I love you.”

And he's kissing you sweetly. So sweetly that you almost forget that he has you tied up in your room, edging you for what feels like an eternity. His hand tips your chin back for better access, tongue licking the roof of your mouth.

Your timid “Love you too, Jen,” is what seems to break the sudden spell of serenity.

He presses one last kiss to the corner of your lips, running his thumb over your smudged lipstick and pressing it into your mouth for you to taste yourself, before the hand settles around your neck in a firm grip.

He's applying just the right amount of pressure to knock the air out of your lungs and make you light-headed. “Jeno, please,” you attempt to say, but it's reduced to incomprehensible gasps.

Your arms feel sore too. They tingle all over in a way that warns you that when all this is over, you aren't going to be able to as much as lift a pen. You aren't bothered by it all that much.

Jeno lines his cock in your entrance and pushes in slowly. A guttural moan escapes his throat, his facade of nonchalance finally breaking now that he's buried deep inside you, your tight walls clenching around him. “Babe, you are so good for me, so tight, my pretty girl,” it's his turn to babble. You aren't capable of forming a response at all, just high pitched whines turning into breathy sounds.

He thrusts into you sloppily, eyes zeroed out on the way your hole takes him in effortlessly. The stretch is just perfect. When he leans down to kiss you - a mess of tongue and saliva more than anything - your eyes roll back and you black out momentarily.

“Doll, you need to stay with me,” Jeno slightly taps your cheek. “Tell me if it is too much, okay?”

You shake your head at that with a little too much vigor. Again, his features morph into one filled with fondness.

It's when Jeno brings the vibrator to your clit that the knot in your stomach snaps. You come undone, the orgasm washing over you in waves and bringing bouts of inexplicable pleasure. Jeno isn't far behind because he’s pulling out to come on your stomach soon after.

He's left you thoroughly drained. He unties the belt and cleans your body with a warm cloth. The moment he tugs you into his chest, you are out like light.

Note

1k of pure filth. I really tried. Hope the anon who requested likes it:)

Requests, thoughts, questions are welcomed. My inbox is open!

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doremimosasol · 5 months

Text

𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐨 𝐑𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞 - 𝐒𝐥𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ✧

Ravenclaw!reader here

Hufflepuff!reader here

Gryffindor!reader here

warnings: suggestive?

word count: 1,1 k

requested

breathtaking

Slytherin

pureblood

hard working

you would think this could easily win a guy like Mattheo Riddle over, but it wasn’t all this that convinced Mattheo you were the girl he wanted

you were intelligent and it showed in the way you acted, some almost wondered why you didn't get sorted into Ravenclaw

but it were your snarky comments, you wouldn’t let anyone walk over you

you knew what you wanted and always made sure to get it

yes, you were pretty, but your personality made you even more attractive to him

respectful and elegant, with that small touch of fire that got you into Slytherin

there was that fire in you, and he wanted it to ignite him too

the way you carried yourself: shoulders back, chin up, but still with that kind smile of yours

you were approachable but to some, you didn’t look like it

the confidence and pride you radiated was intimidating to some

elegance was written on your face

he fell for you fast

but he kept it a secret

he’d even start acting mean to you to convince himself he didn’t fall in love

because how dare he fall in love, right?

nevertheless, it didn’t help because there was no way for him to get rid of those feelings for you

he started to avoid you

avoiding eye contact

avoiding you in the hallways

avoiding your presence in the common room

he’d even spend his evenings in his room alone when he knew you were in the common room

it made him feel weak, those feelings for you

they were no good for him, so the only solution was to lock it all up

to lock himself up

you’d start to get confused because you thought you two were working on something

a friendship?

something more?

it didn’t matter, you just enjoyed his presence

there was something mysterious yet so attractive about him

it wasn’t that much, but after all, you fell for him too

he didn’t even have to try

any girl would be crazy to not fall for him

oh,but you fell hard

completely head over heels

maybe even before he did

you noticed him in class, always

the way he played with all those rings he always wore, and he wore them good

oh my god

it fit his vibe so well and it was bloody hot

he always had that look on his face

it seemed like his eyes almost held no emotion in them

but it was obvious deep down, his eyes covered the whirlwinds going on in his mind

you wanted to know what hid behind those browns

the way his hair fell, it was majestic

he just looked so effortlessly good

and the way he was almost a total red flag?

smash

it went on like this for years, neither of you having the courage to confess

and neither was he able to because then it might feel a little too real to him

you fell for him, but he fell harder

and it drove him absolutely insane

but when you’d start talking to other guys…

it was like something snapped in his head, this sudden switch

at that moment he knew: you belonged to him

you were his

you noticed the small sabotaging he did to your dates, it was almost endearing

but when he went as far as getting one of the guy’s arm in a cast, it were a few too many steps over the line

he had never fought with any of your dates

yes he did fight regularly

but that was because most of the time someone provoked him

was it because he gently touched your waist? the way he kissed you on the cheek?

you couldn’t think of any other reason

you’d heard he immediately threw a punch at the guy, the moment you left

he didn’t even spare a second to let him get away

“She’s mine.”

at that moment you decided to approach him about his absolutely despicable behavior

it wasn’t pleasant to confront him

the first chance you saw him in the corridor outside, you pulled him into your room

before you knew it though, you were pressed against your wall

dominant like he was, he got you under his spell first

his head close to yours

heavy breathing filling the room

breaths mingling

and tension palpable

almost ready to be cut by a single feather even

“You’re mine”

he didn’t even waste a second to kiss you after those words

you never expected it to happen so fast

to happen like this

and for it to feel so good

he wanted you

and you wanted him

and it was more than obvious in the kiss

it wasn’t just a kiss

it felt like it was the air he needed to live

the kiss turned into a full-on makeout session fast enough

and before you knew it you both ended up in your bed

together

clothes?

probably somewhere on the floor

from that night on, you two started dating

it was sweet

he’d regularly take you on dates

mostly private though

picknicks by the Black Lake

candlelit dinners on top of the astronomy tower

and the regular visits to each other’s dorms

he tried everything to make you happy

though it was very sweet he could also be possessive

extremely possessive

a guy could only look at you and his breath would already start to quicken

you didn’t know why he worried so much, you’d never in a lifetime replace him

hell, you would be extremely stupid to

he was the only one you wanted

he’d also regularly give you gifts

most of the time they were flowers

it’d always bring a smile to your face and remind you again why you fell in love with him

a month into the relationship he gave you a bracelet

silver, with emerald stones

and a small snake circling around it

a sign of both your house and his heirloom

he was proud of it, being the descendant of Salazar himself

he could be sweet but oh he could be rough

and bad Quidditch games were the obvious evidence of it

traces painting your skin for days

but don’t you even dare try to cover them up

if you did, he’d make sure to add some more

this time even more obvious than the first ones

you were his and he wanted it to be clear the the rest of the school

it’d be a sweet but bumpy relationship

but besides all that, you could look through all the imperfections

and you ignited a fire inside of him to be a better person

a better person for you

a better person for the world

#harry potter #fiction #slytherin #benjamin wadsworth #slytherin boys #marcus lopez arguello #mattheo x you #mattheoxreader #mattheo x y/n #mattheo riddle headcanon #mattheo riddle

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joelsmochi · 2 months

Text

indulge - joel miller

summary: part 2 to every man gets his wish

warnings: not proofread, porn no plot it just some self indulgent cunnilingus ;)

wc: 850

a/n: couldn’t sleep so i wrote this in 30 minutes to tire my brain >_<. enjoy <3

The camera was in the way.

Your hips hanging off of the bed was prompted by Joel happily getting on his knees. He had a dream of what the angle might look like: camera on the floor, watching him destroy you with his tongue from below.

You couldn’t help but say sure when he asked, although it wouldn’t have taken you much convincing to begin with.

The camera was angled perfectly, showing off how sweetly your cunt glistened from the filthy mixture of your juices and Joel’s spit. His tongue was seen doing every trick in the fucking book, God it was fucking amazing.

But it didn’t feel quite right. Joel’s body wasn’t pressed against yours like usual when he ate you out; his arms weren’t wrapped around your thighs while he brutally suffocated your pussy with the intensity of his mouth. He was holding back, and you hated feeling teased.

The camera was in the fucking way.

Joel sensed it when you moaned but let out a slight huff at the end of it (for the thousandth time).

“What, baby? What’s got you irritated?” He sighed after pulling away.

You sat up slightly, shooting a pout at his puppy eyes.

“You’re holding back, you’re not on me,” you explained. “The camera’s in the way.”

He chuckled, “Well, yeah, darlin’. I gotta keep the camera steady.”

“Fuck the camera!”

You tugged his hair to shove his face back into your sopping wet skin, then shifted your body deeper into his.

With hands melting into your thighs and pressure from his shoulders you felt that lick of intimacy that your body required. His warm tongue lacing the letter of his name into your precious little clit while his stubble scraped tickles into your flesh set your body on fire.

The pitch of your moans grew higher every time your core took another daring step closer to the edge. Your knuckles were pale from your grip on his greying hair, thighs pushing the remaining air out of his lungs.

This was Joel’s favorite part of it all. The torture. The pain.

Fucking you so good you could only tighten your grip or your squeeze or scream into his ear — whatever it was — it was a high Joel’s would never fucking live down.

He figured from the last twenty minutes of teasing he’d wanna see this orgasm over and over and over again, so he slowed down just long enough to put the camera back on the tripod and angled it to see both of your bodies.

Then his eyes peered up and found your sweaty beet red face. Your ponytail was a mess and your baby hairs were stuck to your forehead.

Good God, he’d never seen you so pent up.

You were tired, worn out, and Joel was going to take care of everything for you.

Moaning into your clit, you shuddered, grieving the constant waves of your climax coming and going. He was working you up to the very last moment you could hold onto, knowing how much you needed this orgasm to break you even if you didn’t know it yourself.

The moment you began softly grinding against his face he knew it was time; he traded licking for sucking because it drove you fucking insane. Not just the motion, but the constant tug of your sensitive bud between his lips that made it so puffy and red kept you wanting more.

And when it broke you, Joel held you steady, watching you arch off of the bed and into his hold without making a sound. Your throat and chest filling with unheard sounds, eyes watering and flooding your cheeks with tears, until your body finally let you exhale.

“Fuck! Ahh! Holy— fuckfuckfuck—yes, Joel! Oh my fucking God—“

Loud, praising babbles emptied from you and flooded his ears.

He couldn’t stop now, could he? No fucking way you’d want him to let up. You were shaking and shivering and screaming for him like your life depended on it.

You looked so perfect to him as you died from pure bliss, not tapping out if it meant your orgasm would prevail forever.

And he held out as long as his body could live without air. His lips parted lazily, allowing him to take a deep breath.

“Fuck,” he exhaled, tasting the remnants of you that coated his puffy lips.

You laid back, body still shaking, allowing Joel to give you a few kisses down your thigh and one last lick between your swollen folds. He smoothed a hand over your stomach to help relax you, soothing you into a lightweight slumber.

He took care of the camera and the mess between your legs before carefully moving you up the bed to lay next to him. He pulled his navy blue covers over you and kissed your forehead, watching the smile that appeared on your face afterwards.

“Told you the camera was in the way,” you said cockily despite your sleepy tone, making him snicker.

“How ‘bout you keep that pretty little mouth shut ‘fore I find somethin’ to shove in it?”

[yourusername] has uploaded a new video!

⤷ DILF Neighbor Eats Me To Sleep

Click to view!

taglist: @theoraekenslover

#pedro pascal #joel miller #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fluff #joel miller blurb #joel miller tlou

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mggsv · 2 months

Text

WIFE !

Min Yoongi x black!f reader || (18+) || reblogs would be appreciated! <3

warnings: role play, Yoongi is called “Suga” or “Agust” throughout the story, mascara, crying, hair pulling, dom!yoongi, reader has locs, edging, degrading, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), using a safe word!, praise, soft ending.

“Tell me something,” he murmurs, “the fuck are you good for hm?” He takes a deep breath, eyes shutting briefly before staring into your almond shaped brown ones.

“You can’t cook, cleanings fine- but you suck with kids.” Your eyes water, gasping slightly. “You can’t be a good mafia wife if you can’t understand half the shit that goes on.” He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Seems like the only thing you’re good at is taking dick, am I right?”

The pink head of his cock pop’s out of your mouth, spit alongside your mouth as you panted. Fat, black tears seeped from the side of your eyes. Suga sighed once more, cock twitching at the sight. A fucking mess you were. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”

His leaking tip rubbed against your plump lips, your lip gloss mixing with the cum. All Suga could do was smirk. He enjoyed it. “Yes..yes sir.” You whimpered. Your cunt throbbed around the toy he had inside of you and you hated it. He knew just how needy you were after all.

“If that were the case..should I have married you?” His ring covered fingers reached down to stroke your cheek, wiping the tears from your face, mascara ruined. “A whore could do the same.” His hand found your locs, put up in a cute ponytail with a pink ribbon, and pulled your head back. “Y- Suga.. please..” You trembled, eyes shutting at his grip tightening. Felt so fucking good. Your pussy ached for his attention- anything from the man who wrecked you with just a few words. You whined loudly, his other hand going around your neck. The toy inside of you buzzing even more. It had your legs straining against the floor. “You’re a good wife aren’t you?” He smirked, cooing softly at his doll. You gasp, hips rocking forward. Between the toy and his hands you were on fire.

“Mmmhm..m’a good wife m’promise..”

“And If I fill this hole up you’ll be a good mother, too, won’t you?”

“Mhm!” Your eyes open, hips jerking. Your stomach had a pooling feeling. “Cum-“

“Now you know it’s not that easy.”

Muttering softly, Suga motioned for you to stand. He hummed at your body, taking in how breathtakingly beautiful you looked. Cunt wet with slick spread on your inner thighs, nipples hard and wet with his spit, bite marks all on your shoulders. A mess. His touch lost, the toy cutting off abruptly. “Please..” you sniffled. Cute. He found you absolutely adorable.

“Spread your legs for me.” He leans forward, tongue licking along your v line. Getting closer..so close. The flick of his tongue to your clit sent you over. “Fuck!” You reach out for his hair, Suga lapping at your clit, sucking as you came. Your cunt squeezed around the toy until it fell on the soft rug beneath you. Suga’s hand landing a smack to your ass. Shaking, he kept his mouth on your sensitive cunt.

His thumb dragged your slick, playing with how wet you were while he made it worse.

“Have a seat.” Leaning back, Suga starts stroking his cock. Flushed and red, he adjusts for you, your body fitting perfectly over him. His cock teased your hole, groaning at how wet you sounded with just the tip slipping inside of you. “Oh fuck..oh fuck-“ You throw your head back, finally getting what you wanted. His cock buried deep inside of you, taking it to the hilt. He shudders against your chest, your nails digging into Suga’s arms while you leaned against him.

“Look at that..taking it in all at once.” His tongue darted out to lick small stripes upon your chest. You started to move slowly, gasping at the noise. His size was..insane, but enough for you. Suga grips your hips, another groan ripping from his throat while you squeezed around him. So sensitive you were, after just cumming. At some point you didn’t have the strength anymore to lift yourself. He held you at an angle, hips lifting while he fucked into you hard and slow. “Knew you could take it like a good girl.”

A small whine leaving you breathless, sounds growing louder by the second. And god it hurt so good, you didn’t know what to do but enjoy the ride. Suga talked to you but you couldn’t hear a thing, too lost into everything. Lost..you knew where you lied with him. No matter what.

“..at me.” It was all a blur. “Look-“ You gasped, his cock hitting a certain spot inside of you. So deep, you squeezed onto him. Eyes watering once more. “Suga-“ You felt your head being lifted back, you saw the ceiling, illuminated by the candles lit around the room.

“Angel.” It was like everything stopped. You hiccuped, legs shaking as you blinked the tears away. Yoongi looks at you, frowning softly. He was quick to stop, but..

“You- safe word. Yoon-“

“Shh..” He knew you inside and out. That small motion of quietness was enough. He knew you were tired, fucked out. He had came inside of you minutes ago.

Kissing your delicate shoulders softly, Yoongi stood carefully, slipping out of you with a loud hiss. The night ending with you in his arms, hand rubbing all over your body as he took care of you. Delicate kisses lingering all over your body, a warm bath, and Yoongi’s voice putting you to sleep.

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the-californicationist · 6 months

Text

he lets you watch

When you overhear Captain Price watching porn in his office, you decide to turn his fantasies into a reality.

Link to AO3

MDNI/18+

TW: femdom, gagging, one slap

You were working late. Again. It was the most frustrating part of any operation: recon review. All the footage collected from all the soldiers’ body cams had to be reviewed and documented. Any dialogue? Syntactically tagged. Any shots fired? Counted. Any kills? Confirmed. You were glad to help the team, but this stage of discovery was dreadfully boring.

Even worse, your new-found crush on your captain was driving you insane. To be honest, you’d had your eye on him for a while. There was something about a man in charge, but it was when this last set of footage came through that you really went off the deep end.

Price had gone with Gaz into a warehouse that was suspected of housing enemy munitions, and the captain had uncovered crates and crates of target-marking spray paint. Huge canisters that attached to the bottoms of planes were all stuck in little rows, lined up and ready to use.

Unfortunately for the captain, one of the canisters was propped open on the top of its box, and when he lifted the lid, he got covered in red dye. You watched it explode, covering the camera, and then when it reconnected, there he was. Shirtless. Down to his boxer briefs. Wiping red dye off of himself with his clothes. Gaz had brought a full kit, so Price was changing out, hoping to stay covert and camouflaged in the clean gear. Couldn’t well be a glowing red dot while trying to escape enemy territory.

His chest was broad and full of dense, dark hair, laying flat like soft fur, untrimmed and natural. His beard was streaked red, and half his face was painted, making him look like an ancient Celt, ready for brutal highland battles and bedding willing lassies. He was frustrated by his accident, so all of his movements were sharp and aggressive, his muscles raging and wrestling against his skin. Then, he moved closer to the camera, and the bulge in his underwear became glaringly apparent.

Hung. Thick. Not so long that it was out of place, but heavy. His cock was imposing, and when he readjusted himself, you could see how dense the muscle really was. You couldn’t help but pause the film, staring, in glorious 4k. You nearly had to wipe the drool from your mouth.

Price looked so confident here. He was always self-assured, but sometimes, when you spoke with him, there was something that he was holding back. Some shyness perhaps, maybe just a reserved nature, but not here. Not in his livid rage, he was like a wounded beast - angry and virile. Full of righteous energy. It made you imagine making him come undone in other ways, in the ways a woman was meant to make a beast like that come apart at the seams. Ripping the constricting threads and freeing the hulking creature looming within.

Now, he was sitting in his office, right next to yours, and he’d started watching footage of his own. Or, at least, you thought that he was watching the cams…until you heard a woman’s salacious moan penetrate the thin wall between you.

Your eyes grew wide, and your breath caught in your chest. You sat in the silence of your office, hearing your heart pound in your ears. You waited to hear it again, just to be sure.

Then, a very quiet,

“You wanna come?”

You let out the breath you’d been holding. It wooshed from you like a wave crashing against miles and miles of sand.

Something snapped, some darkness possessed you. You found yourself standing, walking toward the door to his office. It was so late, everyone else had turned in. Just you and him in the west hall of the base awake. He never slept, it seemed. A night owl like you.

You opened his door without knocking. You’d never done that before, and objectively, it was a truly insane choice.

In your mind, his hand had lingered when he took his cup of coffee from your hands. In your imagination, he’d cocked a sly smile when you made a joke, just between you and him. You thought you’d seen him checking out your ass in the gym. But, you didn’t have any real proof.

Popping open his door was the equivalent of pulling the trigger on a bazooka.

He stood, caught like a fox in a snare, his chair clattering as you came into the room and shut the door behind you quickly.

“Sergeant, uh,” he recovered, “What happened?”

“Captain.”

It was a full sentence. And, it was all you had. You were finished.

The video was still playing. The lurid slapping of skin on skin. Her over-acted moans, his ritual panting. Every few seconds, you counted three, there was another soft,

“You like that, daddy?”

You smiled. He turned red, just like he’d been painted again.

“Sergeant, I was just…”

He paused the movie. Then, with his body, with the hand roughly rubbing down his face, with the palm tightly covering his mouth, he said a million other words. He was still pink with shame, and then he laughed,

“Yeah, no. I was ‘bout to have a wank. Not sure why I was trying to make you believe otherwise, love. Sorry. It’s too loud?”

You smiled wider. His genuine honesty was so smooth and effortless. A thief caught with his hands in the cookie jar, begging you to punish him for it.

“No,” you shook your head, “Just wanted to see what you were watching.”

He didn’t register what you said at first, still staring down at his boots. Then, realization washed over him and he looked up at you, eyes shining, brows arched.

“Oh? That so?”

You nodded,

“Let me see what’s got you up so late.”

The captain rubbed a big, calloused hand across his mouth, smoothing his beard, a bit nervous. Then, he pulled a chair around and motioned for you to sit beside him. You sat. He sat. He hit play.

A woman was straddling a man, both of them hairless and slick like brand new Barbie dolls, spray-tan orange and bleach-blond hair. Americans. She was riding his larger than average dick slowly, deliberately slow, edging him with her pussy. She had a hand around his throat, grasping his jaw tightly, pushing his head back. He was tied to the chair, straining against it, clearly desperate as he writhed beneath her, fighting his restraints.

“Please, baby. Please, let me come?” He begged.

“You wanna come, daddy?” She teased.

“Yeah, can I come?” He begged.

“Ah-ah! I don’t think so…” She teased.

Begging. Teasing. Begging. Teasing. A vicious, uncontrollable cycle of cruelty on her part, always pulling the proverbial carrot farther and farther from his snapping jaws.

You turned to Price who was watching, rapt. He noticed you staring at him. Before he turned to face you, he smiled, sighing,

“Sometimes, when you’re the one barking orders all day, it’d be nice to turn your head off and follow someone else’s for a change.”

“You could follow my orders,” some psychotic part of you spoke.

He gripped the side of the chair, his once-relaxed hands now making the cheap aluminum frame creak and pop.

“What’d you say, Sergeant?”

“You heard me, Captain,” you didn’t know if you should call an exorcist or what. Who was this version of yourself and how quickly was she going to get you court martialed?

“You think you can order me around?”

You leaned in, close enough to smell the tobacco on his breath, Cuban cigars leaving earthy notes of vanilla and licorice behind. You whispered,

“I know I can.”

He breathed out, his exhale caressing your lips, threatening to kiss you.

You didn’t move. Not a muscle. You locked eyes with him,

“Sit on your hands, Captain.”

“Sergeant,” he tried to kiss you, but you pulled away quickly.

Part of your body screamed at you, wondering why you’d avoid his advances, but your mind knew what he wanted. He needed to lose control. For a man like Price to lose it, it must be taken from him. Forcibly.

“I said sit... on... them,” you sneered, making yourself larger by standing over him, placing your hands on his thighs to press into his skin.

“Yes, ma’am,” he laughed, patronizing and light-hearted. It made you want to break him of that habit. Of thinking you were just his sergeant. Just the girl who brought him coffee. Just his gym buddy.

He still hadn’t complied, chuckling to himself. Out of no where, you straight up fucking slapped him. Hard. Right across the jaw. Grabbing him by the collar,

“Sit on your fucking hands, soldier. That’s an order,” you barked.

He sat on his hands, staring at you like you had doused yourself in gasoline and caught yourself on fire, in awe.

You pushed his chair back until you had room to move in front of him, and you began peeling off your clothes, one by one. Your shirt, your cargos, your bra, your panties; they all ended up on the floor, leaving you naked and touching yourself lazily, letting your hands wander.

He moved to lift his hands off his seat, wanting to touch, so you backed away from him. It was a warning: move and this ends. Follow my orders, and I’ll stay. He settled back down.

“You know, I should punish you for slapping me, Sergeant. That’s insubordination,” he chided, trying to regain control of the situation.

You took your panties off the ground and found the wet stain he’d caused, showing it to him coyly, like you’d picked up a pretty shell from the beach. It gleamed in the light of his desk lamp. Then, you walked over to him, swaying your hips, and bent down as if to kiss him.

As he opened his mouth to kiss you back, you pushed your panties into it, past his teeth, clutching at his jaw with the other hand as roughly as you could, knowing you couldn’t hurt him. You shushed his surprised noises, putting a finger to his lip,

“Shh, Captain. That’s enough. You’re not in charge anymore, are you?”

He furrowed his brow as if he would fight back, as if he would remove his hands and teach you a lesson. Then, as he tasted you on his tongue, he realized that you were offering prizes for obedience. He would reap the rewards, if he was willing to play along. His face softened, and he shook his head no.

“Good boy,” you whispered.

You kissed his mouth, awkwardly, since it was full of your wet panties, there was little he could do except experience your kisses. He reacted as if he wanted to kiss you back, and as you moved to kiss his jawline, he moaned.

Price’s moans were rumbling and deep, long and low like a bull elephant’s roar. You wanted to drag that noise out of him again. Your hand found his belt buckle, and you rugged at it, willing it to loosen. As you kissed his neck, you drug down his zipper and freed his cock from the fabric.

The captain was not soft. If anything, he was harder than he should’ve been for a little teasing and some neck kisses. You decided to use that to his disadvantage,

“My, my, my. Someone’s eager…”

You tugged up and down with length in a long, languid massage, feeling how his foreskin slipped over the head and down the shaft, smooth and supple. He was hairy around the root of his cock, just as you’d hoped, and after seeing the video of him covered in paint, you wished you could strip him down and run your fingernails through his chest hair, delicately scratching his skin and peaked nipples.

For now, you spit on his cockhead, using it as lube as you rubbed him. He threw his head back in ecstasy. You removed your hand. He snapped back to attention, staring at you a bit desperate for relief.

You giggled,

“Is this for me, or for her?”

Pointing over your shoulder, you motioned to the paused video. You took your hand away, feigning hurt feelings.

His body arched toward you, missing your touch, and he shook his head, trying to say something.

“For her? How disappointing,” you pouted, playing with the head of his cock with one finger, drawing circles around the edge.

Price was saying something muffled through the fabric of your panties, shaking his head, scooting his chair closer with a quick thrust of his hips, making his cock flag from the jolting movement.

“You know,” you whispered, drawing him in with your quiet tone, “if this was for me, I’d really be looking forward to feeling it inside of me.”

“Mmm. Mm, mm!” He tried to correct you, his shoulders straining as he pulled them forward, struggling against his self-imposed restraint.

“Oh?” You caressed his face, rubbing your hand through his soft beard, feeling the stubble on his chin, “It is for me after all?”

“Mm hm,” he nodded, leaning his cheek into your palm, eyes hooded with relief.

You could tell he was enjoying the game. You were enjoying it, too. You could feel how wet you were, watching him gaze at your shining folds hungry. Impatient.

“In that case…” you straddled him, planting your knees on either side of his hips, trapping his cock between you both. His body felt warm, and his breathing was labored.

You rubbed your wetness up and down his shaft, spreading yourself along his length, making wet little sounds as you smeared him until he was slippery.

Carefully, you moved his head into your eager pussy, your walls pounding for him like a heartbeat. Then, you held his throat with your hand, forcing him to look at you.

“You don’t get to come until I tell you to. Do you understand, soldier?”

“Mm, hm,” he nodded, rolling in the ecstasy of your tight cunt.

“Good, boy.”

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