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aemondsbabe · 5 months

Text

Daybreak

summary: sunrise/sunset & orgasm control || aemond is eager to give you your first christmas gift, so long as you're willing to wait for it

pairing: modern!aemond x f!reader

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, oral sex (f receiving), aemond being a tease, dirty talk, fingering, mentions of public sex but it’s in a dream lmao, nipple/breast play, edging/orgasm denial, piv sex, unprotected sex, slight breeding kink at the end, let me know if i missed anything!

word count: 2k

a/n: happy day nine of 12 days of smuff!! aemond is a menace but what else is new!!!!! hope y'all enjoy!!

12 days of smuff masterlist!

gif creds to @bbygirl-aemond

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

🌟add yourself to my taglist to be notified when i post new fics!

“Aemond, please,” your voice sounds so far away as you speak, like you’re listening to yourself underwater, “We can’t, not here!” Your voice is so high-pitched in your ears, so whiny and desperate despite yourself.

Your boyfriend merely chuckles, hands not stopping as they eagerly shove your dress up your hips, one that was already short enough to be damn near scandalous. You hear yourself gasp as his fingers tear into your fishnet stockings, ripping them right where he needs to before he’s pushing you up onto the vanity. A shiver climbs up your spine when your back hits the cool glass of the mirror, soap dispenser clattering into the sink as your hands search desperately for something to hold onto.

“Shhh,” Aemond coos, leaning in to press a comforting to kiss to your lips before trailing downward, lips and tongue working against your soft skin as he travels down your neck and chest, where he pauses briefly to nip at the tops of your breasts before continuing down, “No one can hear, princess. S’just you and me.” You know he’s right, you can practically feel the music outside the door thumping through your bones, the raucous laughter and yelling from the party only further driving his point home.

Your head tilts back as he softly kisses up one leg, starting at your ankle and working his way up. A hand tangles in his hair, and something between a gasp and moan claws its way out of your throat as he bites at your inner thigh while his hands twine themselves around your hips.

Your brows furrow together in confusion, even as he presses his lips against your clit, hot tongue sneaking out just a second later to swirl against the sensitive flesh. You’re so close already, h–

“How?” You croak out, breathlessly voicing your thoughts as your hands tug at his hair, trying to pull him away as your cunt clenches, already feeling overstimulated and taught, even though he’d only been touching you for a few seconds, “Aemond?”

Your voice seems to echo all around you and the sounds of the party outside become distorted as well, though the desperation in your core quickly drowns all of that out as you feel yourself winding tighter and tighter and –

You wake with a gasp, all but bolting off the bed, arms and legs scrambling as your eyes scan the shadowy room. You try to close your thighs, only to be met with resistance, and it’s only then you calm down, eyes finally adjusted enough to make out Aemond’s familiar shape in the dark.

“Shh, shh, shh,” he soothes, your thighs twitch in his grasp as he presses soft kisses to your sopping core, “S’only me, princess.” His voice is low and reassuring as he speaks, though you don’t miss the slight rasp in it, a gruffness to it that only happens during intimate moments.

“What–?” You start to ask, only to be cut off by a loud moan as he swirls his tongue against your clit, practically setting fire to the small bud as it twitches helplessly. He simply pulls back with a laugh, relishing the way you squirm in his hold.

“Just giving you your first present, baby,” he rasps, blowing against your center just to watch you writhe, his eye glued on your center, watching closely as it twitches feebly around nothing, “Sounded like you were dreaming about me, hm? Woke up to you whimpering my name.”

You hardly have the wherewithal to nod, though you bob your head dutifully, the knot in your belly already wound impossibly tight. Swallowing thickly, you glance over at the clock on your bedside table.

7:28AM

Groaning, you bite your lower lip, brows knitting together as you thread your fingers through Aemond’s hair. You open your mouth to ask a question, though that dies on your lips when he ever so gently sucks your clit into his mouth. A sob heaves from your throat as your pussy clenches desperately again, the knot in your belly so, so close, you’re almost–

And he stops, pulling away from you with a wicked grin.

“What the fuck!” You whine, nearly petulant as you buck your hips, frantically seeking any stimulation you could get your hands on as your high fades away once more.

“Language,” he admonishes, biting at the inside of your thigh, just enough to hear you whine, “Wouldn’t want to end up on the naughty list right at the finish line, would you?”

“But I was so close!”

“You’ll get it, princess,” he promises, pausing to lick one last slow, savoring lick up your center before he begins kissing his way up your body, “But good girls wait until Christmas morning to open their presents, don’t they?”

“It’s seven thirty!” You whine, arching into his touch despite your annoyance as he kisses up your stomach, “Doesn’t that count?!”

He snickers, stopping to press wet, warm kisses to the fat of your breasts before he swirls his tongue around a nipple, groaning as he does. “Sunrise isn’t until seven fifty,” he teases, teeth nipping at your sensitive peak as his fingers tease the other, “Looked it up last night.”

You groan, knowing fighting is useless. If Aemond is determined to tease you, he usually gets his way, and something tells you begging won’t get you anywhere this time. As if sensing your submission, your boyfriend sighs happily and smiles as he kisses his way up to your lips; you whimper into his mouth as his tongue licks against yours – you can still taste yourself on his tongue.

“Gonna be a good girl and wait for your present then?” He asks, shuffling closer to you until you could feel his length, hard and ready, bobbing against your center as he kneels between your spread legs.

You nod and whisper a breathless yes, arching up into him yet again with a loud groan as one of his thumbs skirts over your clit, instantly driving you nearly to the edge. He huffs out a soft laugh above you and keeps rubbing the small bud until he sees your eyes flutter and roll back, a tell tale sign you’re almost there, and he pulls away again.

“You know what I want, baby?” He asks, ghosting his thumb over your twitching clit again as soon as he sees you relax, smirking softly at the way your body instantly tenses up, on edge yet again. He doesn’t give you the chance to answer as he draws you up and up and up before stopping once more, “I wanna feel this pretty little pussy fall apart on my cock as soon as I slide into you.”

The casual way he says it makes your head spin, like he’s telling you about some mundane thing that happened at work. You let out a broken sob as you look toward the clock once more, eyes taking a second to focus through the cloud of pleasure that’s so thickly blanketed your brain.

7:40AM

You feel like crying, how were you meant to last ten more minutes when the past twelve had felt like an eternity?

“Aemond, please,” you chance, squirming beneath him yet again, trying to wiggle your hips against his hand or something, “P-Please, I can’t.” Your voice is hoarse as you shake your head up at him. Even in your state, even as he tortures you, you can’t help but admire him taking in the way his pale skin practically glows in the soft, barely there light of the growing dawn.

His chest is heaving too and it occurs to you then that this must be a test for him as well, and that much is confirmed when your eyes trace slowly down the planes of his body to his cock, gasping when you see how flushed it is as it rests against your folds, the leaking head already positioned at your entrance.

“Tapping out in the last couple minutes?” He teases, using his thumb to build you back up yet again before smirking as he watches you writhe and sob when he pulls it away yet again, “I don’t think quitters are on Santa’s nice list, princess.”

You don’t have it within yourself to argue anymore, your brain too scrambled as he brings you to the edge again, each time quicker than the last.

He teases you for the last few minutes, though they feel like years as his fingers ghost across your aching bud. You nearly feel faint, your heart hammering in your chest as you come down from yet another almost-high.

“Think we have time for one more, baby,” he whispers, smirking viciously as you go rigid beneath him the second the pad of his thumb comes into contact with your clit, “Ohh, there you go, I think you’re ready, huh?” He muses, jerking his thumb away almost as quickly as he touches you, violet eye sparkling as he watches your drooling core twitch in the warm orange light that’s just barely filtering in through the window.

You nod your head frantically, fingers aching from how tightly you’ve been gripping the sheets. You can’t help but whine and squirm as you feel him rub his cock along the length of your center, gathering your wetness before he slots the tip at your entrance. You feel like dying when he pauses yet again, although you nearly cry with relief as he speaks.

“You’ve done so good for me, baby. So perfect, doing everything I say just like a good, good girl,” he praises, ever so slightly pushing into you with a groan, marveling at how tight you already are as you just barely hang onto the edge, “Come for me, princess.” He says before pushing into you quickly, his entire length sliding in all at once.

You feel like you’re on fire as pleasure courses through you, wilder and hotter than it ever has before. Your back arches off the bed as a loud moan, more akin to a scream, is ripped from your chest the second he fills you, pressing into every bit of you. You hardly hear him groaning above you, growling lowly in his chest at the way your walls clench and pulse against his length, tighter than he ever thought possible.

You feel like your high never ends as shiver after shiver of pleasure rolls over you, your entire body tensing and relaxing with each contraction of your walls around his thick length. You sob with it, chest heaving as you call his name over and over like it’s the only word you know.

After what feels like an eternity, you finally feel yourself calming down and you whimper as your muscles finally relax.

“You did so fucking good,” he says reverently, his pale hair fanning out like a curtain around your head as he leans down to press gentle, soothing kisses to your forehead while his big hands cup your flushed cheeks, “So good, so perfect. Merry Christmas, my good girl” You giggle, nearly delirious as you finally settle down, and blush at his praises.

It’s only when you squirm again that you remember his length is still buried inside you and you moan softly, brows furrowed together as you gaze up at him, “You didn’t cum?” You ask, your voice a breathy whisper.

He chuckles again, lowly, like he was waiting for you to ask, “Oh, sweet girl,” he whispers and slowly starts rocking his hips, smirking when you moan under him and clench at his shoulders, “That was your present, baby, but it wasn’t mine.”

You shiver as he speaks, eyes fluttering at the cocky, taunting tone with which he speaks before they focus on his violet one yet again, “W-What’s your present?” You ask, already breathless as his hips speed up against you.

“The baby I’m gonna to put in your belly,” he groans, clenching his teeth as you tighten around him, “Seeing you all round and swollen with me, fuck – Making you a pretty little mommy is my present, princess.”

tagged lovelies: @helloworldiamnotarobot @drakonflames @marysucks-blog @watercolorskyy @valeskafics @iamaegontargaryenwife0 @aemshaircare @1997babyyyy @lovellies @little-moonbeam-666 @blackswxnn @alerisc @fan-goddess @wickedfrsgrl @moonriseoverkyoto @echos-muses @schniiipsel @avidreader73 @marvelescvpe @imawhorecrux @grsveeth0m

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that-sarcastic-writer · 2 years

Text

A Good Man (Dean Winchester)

Pairing: Dean Winchester X Wife!Reader

Summary: Dean never wanted kids. Until he married you, and now he's changed his mind.

Warnings: 18+, minors dni, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it children, you don't want kids) p in v, brief fingering, creampie, breeding kink, bit of dirty talk, established relationship, cursing.

WC: 3.4k I'm sorry

A/N: Idk what has gotten into me lately, but it's just filth all up in this head. Just one thought, dean and kids. That's it. He wouldve been a great dad if the writers didnt hate him, fight me. If this flops I'll cry myself to sleep. Kay enjoy the not soldier boy filth

Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!

Dean never wanted kids. Not really. How could he? He could never be selfish enough to bring a child into his life. His way of life wasn't the life any child deserved. He knew he didn't. But he didn't know if he could ever give up hunting, it was all he had ever known. All he was raised to do. And deep down, that's exactly what he didn't want, he didn't want to be the father he had, and in so many ways he and John were alike. So he promised himself he would never bring a child into this world, into his life.

And then he met you.

The sweetest girl he had ever met. You were the prettiest, too. The second he laid eyes on you when you served him at a local dinner in Lebanon, he knew you were something else. And the minute you flashed him a smile, he was done for. He wanted you. And good thing you wanted him too.

Dean never thought he would want to marry anyone, settling down, going to bed and waking up next to the same person for the rest of his life, he never thought he would have any of those things. But then, he fell in love with you. And much to his relief, you loved him too, exactly the way he was, hunting and all. Though that was a conversation that took weeks of processing before you were fully on board, but you moved past it. You would even, at times help them, or more like Sam, research. Hunting was a big part of who Dean was, it was his life, and you wanted to be part of it. How he was ever lucky enough to deserve someone like you he didn't know. Sometimes he wondered if he had died and had gone to heaven, you being a vision of the bliss and happiness he so desperately wanted. But no, he was alive and you were real.

So he married you.

Kids were never in the equation though. It was brought up here and there, the possibility, the fantasy, the what if, but you both figured it wasn't right. Dean thought it would be for the best, he would just ruin their life like his father ruined his and Sam's.

Until your sister gave birth to a baby girl.

Dean wasn't in the picture when your nephews had been born, they were in elementary school now. But when your sister got pregnant again, right around the time you and Dean got married, you were thrilled. You loved your nephews, and you were going to love having a niece now. You had shared your excitement with him, but he didn't see the hype. What was so exciting about a crying red-faced shit dispenser? But alas, he at least tried to share your excitement.

Until he actually saw you with the newborn in your arms.

Dean had driven you a few states over to your sister's, so you could help out with the boys while she got settled back home that weekend. He wasn't around much, he felt out of place and like he was intruding, he had only met your family a handful of times after all. But on the last night you stayed at your sister's, he found you in the nursery, the red-faced baby peacefully cradled in your arms. He was speechless. He had never seen you with a baby before. The way you held her with care and gentleness, the way you said loving words to her, the way you smiled at her. It was like his heart had stopped and he was frozen in place.

You heard the floorboards creak behind you and you turned around. You saw, Dean, standing by the door, face pale as a ghost. You raised a concerned eyebrow at him.

"You okay Dean? What are you doing just standing there?" You asked him softly, as not to disturb the almost sleeping newborn in your arms. Dean blinked twice, swallowed and nodded.

"Yeah I'm.. I'm fine, sweetheart." He gave you a nervous smile and half pointed at you, "I was just watching you. Not— Not watching like that, just y'know—"

"Oh jesus. Just come here, would you?" You giggled at his nervous rambling and nudged him in your direction. He looked at you with apprehension, but nodded regardless. He walked towards you and stood behind you. He was at least a head taller than you, so he could easily stand behind you and look over your shoulder. And his heart definitely stopped then.

"She's the cutest little thing isn't she?" You said to him, smiling at her as you rocked her in your arms.

Dean let out a long breath as his eyes landed on the tiny being in your arms, "Yeah she uh, she's somethin'." He met her eyes and he only smiled awkwardly. She giggled and lifted her tiny arms.

You laughed softly when she did and looked over your shoulder at him with a smile, "Baby, I think she likes you." You said to him when she kept her arms lifted and even fisted her tiny hands in his direction. "I think she wants you to hold her."

"Wha-what?"

You turned around to face him and his eyes were wide and his eyebrows were knitted into a nervous and confused expression. He was cute, sometimes he melted your heart without even trying.

"Do you know how to hold a baby?"

"Yeah but—"

"Okay then hold her. I'm right here, you'll be fine, she won't like, gauge your eyes out or anything." You reassured him, teasing him a bit. He pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes at your comment.

"Hilarious." He rolled his eyes. He wanted to say no, but there was something about you, holding the little girl that made his stomach twist and turn. He couldn't even describe the feeling, but he knew he liked it. "Fine."

Dean tensed up the second he had the newborn in his arms. He didn't know if he was holding her too tight, if her head was supported enough, if he was holding her steady enough. He looked at you with panic for a second, but when the little girl reached out her tiny arms and her tiny fingers touched his jaw, he felt like his heart stopped. He looked down at her, his eyes finding her big ones and his face softened. And he smiled, he actually smiled.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Dean couldn't take his mind off it. You with a tiny being in your arms. He thought about what it would be like to see your belly grow with his child, to see you hold a baby with his eyes and your nose. He thought about doing all the things his father never did with him. He thought about being a better father.

The entire ride back home, Dean was absent, he said very little and you knew something was on his mind. You knew he could get lost in his own head and it'd be damn near impossible to get him to talk about it. You hoped he would eventually. Though you had the feeling neither of you were in much mood to talk. It was late, Dean was probably tired from hours of driving and you were exhausted from days of babysitting, though you loved spending time with your nephews and niece, you were exhausted. So whatever was on Dean's mind, you could wait until morning to try and beat it out of him.

You were already in bed, drifting in and out of consciousness when Dean walked in the room. He had been gone a little while, probably talking to Sam about how much he hated being at your sister's. He turned the light on when he walked in, but he immediately cursed to himself when he saw you on your side of the bed, deep under the covers. You lifted your head, looking around the room a bit confused until you found him.

"Sorry sweetheart, didn't know you were in bed already." He flashed you an apologetic smile as he undressed himself, only leaving his boxers and plain black t-shirt on before he turned the light back off and joined you in bed.

"It's okay," You mumbled, happily sighing when he wrapped an arm around your middle and pulled your back to his chest. "You know I have a hard time sleeping without you anyway."

He nodded and pressed a kiss to the back of your head. He laid there, his nose brushing against your neck, happily taking in your scent as his fingers unconsciously rubbed circles over your flat stomach. He didn't know what the fuck was going through his head. But he just couldn't get rid of that image of you with your niece in your arms, how peaceful and happy you looked. Maybe you did want it, a family, and he was being selfish by not allowing you to have that because of his insecurities and past trauma. It terrified him, the idea of messing up like his father did, the idea of being just like his father.

But maybe, maybe he was a better man than John Winchester. Maybe with such a sweet and gentle wife by his side, he had grown softer. He could be better.

"Hey baby," He mumbled against your neck. You half opened your eyes, not quite asleep yet and you hummed at him, letting him know you were listening. "Are you still on the pill?"

You opened your eyes fully at his question. Confused, you rolled over on your back and looked at him, "Uh yeah, why?"

"Have you thought about, you know, not taking it anymore?" He asked, clearing his throat a bit as his fingers stilled their patterns on your stomach. You looked at him even more confused.

"Unless you want to try abstinence, or you're missing wearing a condom, no, I haven't thought about it." You answered with furrowed brows as you looked at him in the darkness, trying to read his face. "Dean, why are you asking me this?"

"Do you want kids?" He blurted out, not being able to control his rambling thoughts. He could've been more subtle. He sighed and continued, "I mean, would you ever want to have kids.. With me?"

"I uh.. I mean, yeah at some point I thought about us having kids but," You paused, running your fingers up his arm reassuringly, sensing he was on edge and nervous. "I thought you didn't want kids."

"I didn't. Not before," He sighed, his hand sneaking under your shirt to lay on your flat stomach, his wedding band feeling cold on your skin. "I honestly thought I'd be a shitty dad. I'm all kinds of fucked up. My life is a mess and I thought I'd be cruel to bring a kid into this life, raise 'em the way I was raised."

"Dean, you're not fucked up, your life isn't exactly normal but, that doesn't mean your life is a mess. You're an amazing husband, I'm happy to be living the life I'm living with you. And you already are a good dad," You told him, your hand coming to run through his short hair. He frowned at you, like he didn't know what you meant, so you continued. "Who do you think raised Sam? Who do you think raised him to be the good man that he is? You did, you took care of him when you were just a kid, you taught him everything he knows, and he turned out well didn't he? You're a good man Dean, wouldn't that make you a good dad?"

"God I love you." He sighed, like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders and he leaned down, capturing your lips into a kiss.

His hand lingered on your stomach, blunt nails scratching the skin even so slightly as his mouth covered yours. His lips were soft at first, but when he shifted so that he was hovering above you, he slipped his tongue into your mouth, taking as much as he could until you were pulling back for air. In the process, his hand had lingered further down your stomach, until his hand was slipping into your sleeping shorts. You gasped softly, feeling his middle finger brush over your clit.

"You know it's probably not gonna work if we try tonight, right?" You asked, your voice breaking when you felt one of his fingers rub small circles on your clit.

"No, I know. But there's nothing wrong with a bit of practice." His pink lips twisted into a small smirk as he dug his teeth into his bottom lip before he dived into your neck.

His lips ravished your pressure point, sucking and slightly digging his teeth until he felt a pool of wetness coat his fingers. His lips curved upwards and he moved downwards, leaving a trail of wet kisses until he found the hem of your shorts. He pulled back, pulling his hand with him. You squirmed slightly under him, face warm when his green eyes found yours just as he pulled your shorts down your legs. He shot you a wink before his face was between your legs. You gasped softly when you felt his warm breath fan against your core, but he pressed his lips to your inner thigh instead and squeezed the other between his fingers.

“Dean,” You exhaled heavily, trying to fight the urge to just push his head where you wanted him. He looked up, a playful glint in his eyes and his lips were curved into an equally playful smirk.

“Yeah I know baby.” He started to move up, hearing the urgency in your voice. He pressed his lips to your hip bone and trailed up. Though his lips lingered particularly long when he found your stomach, the idea of your belly growing with his child making his cock strain against his boxers.

Your fingers found his short hair and you pulled him up, crashing your lips against his with fervor. He settled between your parted thighs, you could already feel him against you, he wanted this as much as you did, hell maybe more. He pulled his shirt over his head before he kissed you again, his tongue slipping into your mouth and he tugged his boxers down his hips, his cock springing against his stomach. He held himself up on his forearm as he guided himself to your entrance. He groaned how wet you were, your slick walls taking him with ease.

“Fuck.” He cursed under his breath as he looked between you, watching himself disappeaar into your walls.

Dean didn’t waste much time. His hips found a pace, and he found it quick. It was hard and it was deep. He made sure you felt every thrust he gave you, every time he drew his hips back only to slam back in. But he wasn’t just fucking you, no. He was making love to you. He had a reason to. And fuck did he have a reason. He was fucking with you with purpose. And now that you were feeling it too, you were just as insatiable as he was. At some point, you weren't even quite sure when, Dean slipped your sleeping shirt off, which really was just one of his old t-shirts. For some reason, that habit of yours only got him off. The idea of you, his pretty wife, in his clothes. Fuck he often wondered when he ever got so lucky or if he even deserved it.

He pulled back a little, jaw slightly hanging open as he ran a hand over your breast, kneading one between his fingers. And then he was leaning down. His mouth found one of your breasts, the nipple already hard as a rock, and he suckled, giving the bud attention until it was red and puffy. And then he switched to the other. They would get bigger and plump with substance for his child, he thought. And maybe you realized that too, because as your body arched under his, your hand came up to cup his head, fingers threading through his hair.

“Fuck, Dean please, please don’t stop.” You trembled, your voice breaking as a broken moan left your lips. He could hear the desperation in your voice, that aching need for release, he knew you better than he knew himself.

“Come on, let me see it, let me see you fall apart,” He coaxed as he pulled back, hiking one of your legs high on his torso. He buried himself so deep it made your eyes roll into the back of your head when he brushed over your most sensitive spot. And he did it, again, and again. Until you were crying out. But what really sent you over the edge was his thumb brushing over your clit. He rubbed quick circles over the sensitive bud until your walls gripped him so tight it made his eye roll back. “Fuck, that’s it. That’s my girl.”

He held you as you trembled, his hips slightly faltering and his thrusts became a bit erratic as he chased his own release.

“Gonna fill you up,” He groaned in your ear, your juices allowing him to bury himself just a fraction into you. You held him, arms thrown over his neck and his name leaving your lips like a faint praise. Though you were still a bit hazy, you felt him press a hand to your stomach, cold wedding band sending slight chills down your spine. “Right here.”

You were trembling under his, thoughts barely coherent, but you breathed out, “Yes, please.”

Your lips found his jaw and your fingers pulled his hair so hard it made him groan. And suddenly he was still, buried deep inside you as pleasure overtook him. He spilled himself inside you with a groan, the muscles in his back tensing as his head fell over your neck. He sat still inside you, his pants and your own mixing in the air. He had come inside you many times before, hell, he didn’t remember the last time he didn’t, but fuck, this felt different. It felt so goddamn right, the idea of what this meant of it felt right.

Dean moved eventually, probably when his arm got tired of holding his weight. He pressed a wet kiss to your lips before he slipped out of you, the loss of him making you hiss softly when you felt your mixed juices drip down your thigh. Though you expected him to lay down beside you but he moved down instead, and you gasped in surprise when you felt his lips on your stomach. And he pressed his forehead against your belly, his ringed hand rubbing your side gently. You felt him sigh, and you heard him mutter something you couldn’t quite make out. He kissed your belly again, for a bit longer before he was on feet, telling you he would be right back as he tugged his boxers back on.

You were too tired to question him, you were fucked out and sleepy, so you simply nodded. You didn’t realize you had closed your eyes until you heard Dean say your name and you felt his hand on your face. You opened your eyes, squinting slightly as you looked at him. He had a wet rag on his hand, so you let him clean you up. He was silent the whole time, not a single sound came from him. And his expression was unreadable. You sometimes wished you could see what was on his man's mind. Even after being married and him opening up to you about a lot of things, the man was still impenetrable.

He found his spot beside you eventually, the room dark as you settled on his chest. He threw an arm around you and held you while his other arm was behind his head. You shifted, head tilted back and you brought a hand to his face, palm flat on his cheek as you planted a soft kiss to his lips. He hummed.

“You’re a good man Dean.” You said softly, catching the adoring look in his eyes, even in the darkest they were still bright. “And you’re a good husband, and there’s no one else I would rather have kids with some day.”

A smile tugged at his lips, “Some day? That means we gotta keep tryin’ right?”

You could hear the insinuation in his tone, and you could see the suggestive smile on his lips, even in the darkness, “Yes, yes we do.”

“Awesome.”

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester smut #dean winchester fanfiction #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #spn #dean winchester x female!reader

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olderthannetfic · 2 months

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I think you've talked before about how it's wrong to assume the only people who enjoy taboo kink like race play are bigoted white people, right? Tumblr's search remains garbage. I've been trying to formulate some thoughts on it after seeing some videos on "bad books" but I don't really know enough about real world kink culture to know what's valid critique of racism or anti-kink just hiding behind it. So I remembered you'd mentioned the topic at some point and might have some thoughts?

Well, first, one should apply basic logic: If shittons of women kink on the ways in which society abuses women, why wouldn't at least some ethnic minorities kink on the way society abuses them?

Second, social media overflows with jackasses saying "Listen to POC" as a thought-terminating cliche, but it's good advice as long as you grasp that you do have to evaluate which people you're listening to and what basis you have for trusting that they know something about a subject.

Honestly, I don't think this topic is that complicated. There are just a lot of cowardly white people around who are too scared of ever being seen as wrong to be willing to do a little research or stand up for anything even remotely controversial. They'll parrot the first anti they run across but not bother to engage with the comments of nonwhite kinksters who are long-time community members with informed opinions.

The person I'd listen to, personally, is Mollena Williams-Haas, a kink educator and submissive. She has talked about race play here, among many other places.

Her comments boil down to it being about consent. If kinksters want to play with a concept and everyone involved is on the same page, it's not the business of outsiders to tell them it's off limits.

Playing with heavy topics in an agreed upon way is completely different from having that thing sprung on you without warning. We're used to making this distinction when people are playing with the trappings of rape but, somehow, lose our goddamn minds when the topic is racism.

Now, yes, there are plenty of gross white creeps who think nonwhite kinksters will inherently be interested in this sort of thing and should cater to them... but how is that any different from your usual pest in a bar chatting up uninterested parties and refusing to take no for an answer? The problem isn't squicky kinks that many of us don't want to hear about: The problem is jackasses treating others as a fantasy and/or kink dispenser instead of a person with feelings and needs.

Frankly, most of the arguments against this sort of kink are your usual "As a woman, you should be setting a good example!" bilge that's leveled at all submissive women but on steroids because a woman of color is extra, extra, extra responsible for living her whole life as An Example. (And I notice that it's generally submissive nonwhite women who come in for the most abuse even though plenty of other dynamics exist. Quelle surprise.) It's bullshit. People should mind their own damn business.

As for "bad books"... Are we talking bodice rippers with nonwhite heroines or what? Are we back to colonizer romance wank? Books about characters engaging in race play in a BDSM context? I think it's reasonable to critique books that don't seem to know what they're doing—e.g. not seeming aware that a rape scene is one—but stupid to worry about iddy trash that is trying to be iddy trash. People will always like socially unacceptable id fodder. Some books will always cater to that.

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gasolinerainbowreads · 6 months

Text

↓ ICON LEGEND ↓

🌈 = title 🪆 = series, multiple parts, etc. 💎 = hidden gem/should have more reblogs/followers imo 🔋 = make sure your vibrator is charged before reading 😈 = Horny Demon Hours™ approved 🥹 = hurts so good/ouch, my feelings 🧠 = did somethin to my brain/altered my brain chemistry

Here's what I read in September along with a comment/thought/favorite excerpt:

@atticrissfinch

🌈 Now I See Daylight ⇨ 🪆🥹 we get punished, and we do not like it. This made me feel VERY BRATTY reading it lmaoooo. DO NOT GIVE ME THE SILENT TREATMENT, DADDY.

@softlyspector

🌈 Moss & Mushrooms ⇨ 😈🧠 IT’S GIVING THE FALL OF THE HOUSE OF USHER WITH BONUS DICK DOWNS, AND I AM GOBBLING IT UP! SUPERB. 🌈 Blush ⇨ 🪆🥹🧠 IMPECCABLE. INSANELY IMMERSIVE. SICKENING TALENT. MAKES ME WANT TO GO TAKE A NAP IN A MUD PIT. GETTING THE SIDE OF THE OREO THAT HAS THE CRÈME FILLING ON THE WAFER. YOUR FAVORITE FLAVOR OF SLURPEE IS READY TO BE DISPENSED. YOUR HANGNAIL DOESN’T TEAR OFF. YOUR SHOELACES DON’T DRAG ON THE GROUND BC THEY’RE TOO LONG. THIS IS THAT. NO I WON’T BE EXPLAINING ANY OF IT.

@thetriumphantpanda

This series really covers a whole lotta kinks for me lmao. Breeding kink. Pregnancy kink. Creampies. Daddy kink. 🌈 Come Away with Me (Tuesday) ⇨🪆🔋🥹 “Imagine this is it?” He mumbles against the skin of your shoulder, leaning forward, “Imagine the time it takes is the time I fuck you against a tree like this.” 🌈 Come Away with Me (Wednesday) ⇨🪆🔋🥹 “Gonna fill me up, daddy?” You ask, the word slipping out of your mouth before you can catch it. 🌈 Come Away with Me (Thursday) ⇨🪆🔋🥹 “You’re in love with me, aren’t you?” He asks quietly, it’s soft, there isn’t an ounce of judgement or remorse to be found in his voice, and it’s not there in his eyes when you push yourself off his lap and turn to look at him. “Isn’t it obvious?” You ask him, “You’re in love with me too.” You don’t accuse him, it’s a statement of fact, because you know he’s been in love with you since the night he stayed when you were trying for Joshua.

@joelscruff

🌈 Beyond Infatuation ⇨ 🔋🧠 “Jesus,” Tommy mutters, and you open your eyes enough to see them both staring at your fucked-out hole, watching Joel’s come dribble downward into the sheets, “Filled her up real good.”

@swiftispunk

🌈 In My Hometown Headcanons ⇨ 🪆🥹 Omg it's the Lil Sebastian of Joel fics 💕 he can hardly remember how it felt to fear this, to fear being with you. now, he can’t shut up about you, giddy every time he gets to call you that word. it’s such a simple thing, reminds him of being young - “my girlfriend’s pickin’ sarah up tonight,” “my girlfriend chose this shirt for me,” “my girlfriend and i are goin’ out later” - doesn’t matter the context, he loves referring to you that way, even if it’s a little trivial maybe, even if it doesn’t quite capture how deep his feelings really run for you. if he’s honest, it might be that he likes the word “my” better than “girlfriend.” 🌈 Your Summer Dream, Day 6 - Savour ⇨🪆🔋🥹 Get you a man who blows your back out so good he blows his own back out, too lmaoooooo 🌈 Your Summer Dream, Day 3 bonus ⇨ 🪆🔋🥹🧠 my brain skipped the tracks on this one, babes. derailed me for a hot minute. the whole in the doorframe thing just makes my brain go fucking static. 🌈 Mad Love drabble ⇨🔋😈🧠 “kill him,” you say and joel finally looks over at you, sees you with your hand over your cunt, another smirk playing at his lips at the sight.

@ezrasbirdie

my bb rly scratchin that somnophilia itch with these 🌈 Claim ⇨🔋😈 “That’s right, baby, that’s right. Goddamn, you sleep heavy,” he murmurs. He slides another finger in and makes the same noise, fucking you gently with both of them, pulling your legs open further, and repositioning himself between them. “One more, sweetheart, one more for me,” he says. A harsh sigh emerges from you as he pushes a third digit inside of you. It almost hurts. You want it to hurt more. 🌈 More ⇨ 🔋😈 the debauchery is unhinged and perfect

@toxicanonymity

🌈 Clock ⇨ 🪆🔋😈 this lil dehydrated, crybaby bitch is the loml some days. 🌈 Needs ⇨🪆💎🔋🥹 Part of her "Finally Fucking Friday". Virginity loss. Soft!Joel. 🌈 Fires ⇨🪆💎🔋🥹 POV switching done well. inadvertently hilarious reader.

@sugarcoated-lame

🌈 untitled ⇨💎🔋🥹 idgaf if this isn't technically a proper fic. it's more of a ramble/thots type thing, but i enjoyed it immensely and am putting it on this list because it made me horny and also bc i fucking want to.

@gracieispunk

🌈 Bloody ⇨ 🪆🔋🥹 my fave menace is back aka tenant girl who is innocent and perfect. the panic at being in missionary sent me. 🌈 Heat Wave ⇨🔋 Joel is just ssooo thoughtful when he hears you moaning in your sleep and decides to help. What a gentleman.

@millerscoffee

🌈 Heat Lightning ⇨ 💎🔋😈🥹 sub!Joel. mommy kink. aftercare.

@bageldaddy

🌈 I Know It When I See It, Pt 5 ⇨🪆🔋😈🥹 HOW THE FUCK DOES THIS JUST KEEP GETTING BETTER?!?!?! --- also, i want to punch the fucking air over the fact that i cannot go onto pornhub and type in "Lucky+Texas+bondage" and have this come up. life is NOT FAIR.

@frannyzooey FREE MY BITCH FROM TUMBLR JAIL!

🌈 In The Dark blurb ⇨ 🪆🔋😈 *screams into the void* --- hot. HOT. I'm obsessed with In The Dark (go read that entire series right now if you haven't. It's so beyond amazing.). This was just icing on the cake. 🌈 Squirming ⇨🔋 the way I would be THRASHING so I could get a "goodnight treat" lmaoooooooo 🌈 Short Days, Long Nights 13 ⇨🪆🔋🥹 The words come pouring out of his mouth before he can stop them, but once they’re out, he can’t stop saying them. Burying his face in your chest, he says the words directly over your pounding heart. “I love you, honey. Fuck, I love you.”

@iamskyereads

🌈 Compulsion, Pt 6 ⇨🪆🔋😈🧠 One of THE BEST versions of Ezra I've ever come across in fic. SO GOOD. SERIOUSLY SO FUCKING GOOD.

@netherfeildren

🌈 The Cassandra Complex, Pt 3 ⇨🪆🔋😈🧠 This story is so well-written, the plot is beautifully crafted, the imagery is wonderful. No surprises there, right? It's Vic lmao. It ain't gonna be anything but amazing! Having said that... the smut in this chapter..... whew. WHEW. You outdid yourself, Vic.

@velvetmud

🌈 home video blurb ⇨🔋😈 But you don’t find the words or the energy to conjure up an answer. You’ve become too lost, too deep in the moment giving your own boyfriend’s dad another long orgasm he’s been saving up just for your face. “Gonna tell him his dad’s thick cock fucked and wrecked this throat all night?” he asks, pointer finger dragging down your aching jaw. He continues with a whisper. “That I split that pussy open on it whenever you come over to see him, too?”

@psychedelic-ink

🌈 Ravish ⇨🪆🔋😈 Okay I love the set up of this story and also the way Joel is chill about ~cam girls~. But I did bust up laughing when she saw his dick and was like wtf idk man idk if that's gonna fit and his ass hits her with the I've seen you shove bigger dildos into your pussy you'll be fine lmaooooooooo.

@tieronecrush

🌈 Only Angel, Ch 2 ⇨🪆🥹 “I’ll be waiting for a call, Javi. And I’ll see you Monday, Professor Peña.” You give him one last look, giggling as you shut the door and he hits the top of the taxi before you drive away, standing there with an idiotic smile on his face.

@cavillscurls

🌈 Eyes on Me ⇨🔋😈 Tommy watches you fuck Joel. Just go read it already! 🌈 Lover Man ⇨🥹 Soft and fluffy. You play with Joel's hair bc he is bb grl and deserves tenderness.

@walkintotheriveranddisappear

🌈 Waiting Room ⇨🪆🥹 I love this series, and this part carries so much of the story. The break down of relationship dynamics and friendships and people just trying to figure shit out was *chef's kiss*

@haylzcyon

🌈 Slow ⇨🔋 *chanting* EZRA EZRA EZRA EZRA “Fuck me slow, Ezra.”

@the-ginger-hedge-witch

🌈 Everything ⇨ 🪆🥹 from one of my all-time fave series Adversity. I'm not going to write too much of a blurb here bc I will go absolutely off the rails about Adversity if prompted lmaooooo.

@mandoblowmybackout

🌈 Eyes on Me ⇨🔋 Ezra gets his ass ate and fingered. *wipes tear* It's just so beautiful.

@leslie-lyman

🌈 Focus ⇨🔋 Ezra hypnokink that makes me very horny every time I read it.

@pascalisbaby

🌈 Heaven ⇨ 🔋 sub!Joel just wants to make us feel good, as he should. 🌈 Control ⇨🔋 now we're subbing and think we wanna dom but you know what sometimes it's just best if Joel doms 😅

@hier--soir

🌈 Whole New Can of Worms ⇨🪆🔋🥹 yyyooooo I wanna be BFF with Joel if it means getting dicked down that good. jesus!

@cupofjoel

🌈 Switching the Positions ⇨🔋🥹 The domesticity. The fluff. The fucking. Perfection.

@chloeangelic

🌈 Reflection of the Moon, Ch 5 ⇨🪆🔋🥹 Joel Miller ascending to baby daddy status. We love to see it.

@the-scandalorian

🌈 Mine ⇨🔋😈 🗣️ PRONE BONE ANAL

@northernbluess

🌈 Art of Healing, Ch 5 ⇨🪆🥹 I. Am. OBSESSED. with this series. Marcus Pike, art therapist. It's a slow build, and the story is PHENOMENAL. I have gone back and re-read chapters of this so many times. I adore this story!!

WHEW HOLY SHIT I DID IT.

I know this is basically a month late. I apologize. I'm gonna go ahead and apologize in advance for whenever the October wrap up rolls around bc I'm pretty sure I read even more this past month than I did in September. *screams into pillow*

If all the writers in this fandom could please stop being so fucking talented and amazing please that would really help my To Be Read list.

😩

SEE Y'ALL NEXT MONTH

#monthly wrap up

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simpingcowboy · 1 year

Text

On The Clock

Gif by pedro-pedrito-pascalito <3

Pairing: bottom Javier Peña x top agent M!Reader, reader is publicly out

Word Count: 4.2k+

Warnings: SMUT! mistaken homophobia (quickly rectified), slutshaming (both the kinky and non-kinky kind), humiliation/degradation kink, crude language, fighting for dominance, work place relationship, semi?public sex, oral sex, fingering, spit as lube, protected anal sex, aftercare

Summary: A few words spoken out of jealousy lead Peña to confront you... "What?" He cuts you off with a growl. "Now you're sorry? You wanna show me how sorry you are?" Javier asks, a soft tilt of his head

A/N: Listen I don't think slutshaming was technically a word in the 80's but you get the vibe. Someone had to put this man in his place!!! This one was alot of fun to write :))

"There he goes again." One of the two male agents before you says with a sigh.

You look up from your desk, eyes following the two other agents' to see Javier Peña hitting on the newest transfer. He's got her closed in by the water dispenser, an arm propped up on the wall behind her. The opposite hand is tied into the belt loops on his waist as he pops his hip out, doing all to make his small behind seem more prominent. Those stupid sunglasses still perched on his nose despite being indoors.

"Jesus, does that man ever take a break?" The senior agent to your left remarks, rolling his eyes at the interaction.

"Wasn't he just seeing the receptionist? The blonde one?" You chime in.

"Nah, Peña gave her the boot last week. He was taking that CIA girl out last I knew."

The older agent clicks his tongue, “Keeping track of all of his girls is damn near impossible.”

You resign back to your work with a sigh. “Well you know Peña,” you say unoticing of the DEA agent quickly approaching your desk, “he’ll fuck anything that moves.” A sharp nudge to your shoulder pulls your eyes back up from your paperwork. Catching the dark haired agent breaching earshot.

“Hey Agent Peña,” the senior agent says smoothly, silently praying Javier didn’t hear your comment, “What can we do for you?”

“Yeah…actually I was wondering...” He lingers, pulling the pack of cigarettes from his breast pocket and hitting one out into the palm of his hand. The thin cigarette is placed between his plush lips, as his eyes glare up into yours through the amber aviators, “Any of you got a light?”

A collective exhale is let out between you and your colleagues. Thankful that there would be no fights breaking out in the office today.

“I uh think I got one.” The younger agent pats his pockets, finally finding one in his back pocket. “Gotcha.” he says, offering the lit lighter to Peña.

“Thanks.” the DEA agent mumbles, leaning in close to catch the light on the end of his cigarette. He takes a deep inhale, blowing out the puff of smoke down onto your desk with a sly smile. “Think I dropped mine out in the field, you know how it goes.” Javier drops your gaze to look off to the far side of the room, taking another deep inhale of the cigarette.

As annoying as you find him, it’s useless to deny the pure unadulterated sex appeal of the man. It’s easy to understand how he gets so many women in his bed. He even makes smoking look good. Hip popped to his left, hand sitting right above his tight ass. Right hand holding the cigarette to his lips. Broad shoulders squared off facing you. Making it easy to oogle at his physic. His strong chest, practically pulling against the half undone button up shirt. A small waist, cinched in by his tight belt and painted on jeans. His turned neck pulls focus on his strong neck, and mesmorizing side profile.

“Anyways-” He cuts off your wandering gaze snapping you back to the moment, “I gotta go see what Murphy is up to. See you guys around.” Is all he says, before whisking away to the DEA sector of the floor.

“Whatta weirdo.” The man to your right announces with a roll of his eyes. “I don’t get what all the ladies see in him.”

To that the senior agent laughs, “You’re just jealous!”

“Am not!” he defends. “I bet I could get the new transfer’s number if I wanted.”

“Yeah right!” The agent to your left chuckles, but the conversation is lost on you. Your mind muddled with the tantalizing image of Javier Peña. “Hey!” He snaps, bringing you back to reality. “You there?”

“Y-yeah” you stutter, suddenly aware of the semi you were sporting under your desk. “Sorry guys, I really gotta get going on this paperwork.” Not exactly a lie, but not the real reason for your wandering mind.

They sigh, but get up off your desk. “See ya tomorrow!” They each wave goodbye.

The day drags, the pile of paperwork not much smaller than when you’d first began. Your brain appartently fixated on one Javier Peña. Your cock twitching with every intrusive thought about the DEA agent’s tempting figure. Before you know it, the floor is cleared. The office growing darker and darker as the lights go off one by one. The receptionist makes her final round, always staying far later than neccesary. She bounds around the corner, shooting you a kind smile.

“You’re still here?” She asks, with a soft tilt of her head.

You huff out a chuckle, “Paperwork won’t do itself.” you say with a shrug.

The receptionist smiles at you in the dim room, “Well have a goodnight Agent.” She says with a nod of her head, about to turn towards the exit. “Oh and goodnight Peña!” She waves to an unseen figure behind you.

“Night Sweetheart.” He calls back from the shadows, stepping forward and resting a heavy hand on your shoulder.

Fuck. You think to yourself, your breath catching in your throat. Silently hoping the kind receptionist will find a reason to stay. Much to your dismay, she promptly shuts the door behind her. Leaving you alone with the DEA agent.

“You know she likes you?” He says from behind you.

“She’s not really my type...” You bite your tongue to keep from saying anything more. The girl was kind. Pretty. But you only had eyes for a certain one person in this office. The one currently leering over your shoulder.

“What is your type then?” Peña leans in close to your ear, the huff of his breath blowing over the side of your face.

“I uhh” you gulp, trying to keep your composure. It wasn’t exactly a secret that you liked men, a small fact that slipped during an undercover job with the Cali cartel, but you far from appreciated the condescending tone in Peña’s voice “like dark hair…dark eyes.”

Javier chuckles at your side, a smug smile on his face. “Sounds alot like me.” He teases.

“Fuck you Peña!” You get up from your desk, pushing his hand off of you. “I’m not gonna take this shit from yo-”

He stops you, hands quickly grabbing your waist and pulling you against him. Wordlessly catching you in a heated kiss. Plush lips pressing against yours, a low groan escaping the other man as he grinds his hard cock on your hip. Thick hands find their way into your back pocket, cupping your ass. He pulls back, barely separating himself from your lips. “Didn’t mean it like that, Hermoso.” He whispers, dark brown eyes blown out with lust.

"Peña you…” Your hands brace themselves on Javi’s chest, as your mind still reeling from the turn of events, “You like men?"

He scoffs at you, offering a half hearted smirk, "As you said. I fuck anything that moves, right?"

A wave of guilt comes over you, face going hot with embarassment. "Fuck Peña I-"

"What?" He cuts you off with a growl. "Now you're sorry? You wanna show me how sorry you are?" Javier asks, a soft tilt of his head. Hands freeing themselves from your back pocket; sliding up to your face. His thumb gliding over your bottom lip. "Get on your knees." He commands, hands dropping to pull at his belt.

Part of you wants to hit him for having the audacity to fuck with you like this. But all the blood rushing to your cock makes it difficult to care. You drop down onto your knees, looking up at him expectantly. Watching eagerly as he tears those way too tight jeans off his thick bulge. Your eyes go wide as you realize, the motherfucker doesn’t even wear underwear. His beautiful cock springing out proudly, damn near jumping in front of your face. It's long and girthy with a weeping uncut head. A perfect patch of dark brown curls coating the base.

"Too much, Baby?" Javi teases with a cocked smile. Obviously pleased with your assessment of him.

You shoot a glare up at him, "I can take it."

With that you down his cock as best you can in one go, pushing the tip down to the back of your throat. Swallowing around the sensitive head. One hand working the bit of him you can't take all the way down.

Javi hisses as you take him down your throat. "Ohh you're good at that." He exclaims, head thrown back in pleasure. Hands bracing on the desk behind him as his hips thrust up to meet your bobbing head.

Precum spills from the uncut head, languishing your tongue in his taste. He tastes salty and just a tad bitter. Taking him down to the base, you catch the scent of his clothes. He smells like cigarettes and gunpowder, but there’s more. A remnant of sweat heavy on him, filling your nose with Peña’s own delicious scent. It’s earthy yet bright. His thick pheromones go straight to your already hard cock, making it throb in your pants. Uncaring of what Peña thinks, you reach down to grind against your hand. Moaning around his cock at the sweet relief of friction.

"Fuck" Javi groans, watching as you touch yourself. "Is this what you wanted, Guapo? My cock? Got jealous of all those pretty girls, hmm?” He asks, snapping his hips down your throat. “I bet you just wanted me all to yourself." The DEA agent says with a self assured smirk. He lets you continue on, enjoying the sight of you on your knees. Before pulling you off, “Don’t wanna cum down your throat, wanna cum in your cute ass.”

You get up off the floor with a smirk of your own. “No way, Peña.” You push up close against him, grinding your cock against his hip, taking his hard member in your hand. “Who knows where that thing has been.”

Javier winces as your hand squeezes around him. An indisputable throb running up his cock at your cruel words. A warm blush creeping up his cheeks. “D-didn’t mind it in your mouth.” He half-heartedly retorts, obviously affected by your words.

“Keep mouthwash at my desk for a reason, Peña.” You tease, though that was not the reason, you knew that Javi’s lust filled mind wouldn’t be able to reason against it.

His heavy cock jumps in your hand, as he lets out a soft whine. “Y-yeah okay” he says with a groan.

“You want me to fuck you?” you ask with a raised eyebrow, surprised with how quickly he changed his mind.

He nods swiftly, a squirt of precum leaking over your hand. “I want it.”

"Fuck okay. I'll take care of you, Baby." You assure him, moving to rub your hands soothingly along his sides. Hands sliding up his shirt. "You got a condom?"

Javier nods, sliding one from his pocket into your hand. "H-how do you want me?" He asks shyly, obviously nervous.

God, he looks so cute like this. All shy and flustered. You deliver a soft kiss to his lips, which he melts into, relaxing in your hands. "Can you bend over for me?" You ask in a hushed voice, needing to walk him through it.

"Y-yeah." He squeaks out, pulling away from you and bending over the desk, elbows resting on the smooth oak. Another soft whine escapes him as you shuck his pants down. Though you'd never be able to tell by the tight pants the DEA agent sports, he is actually just slightly self conscious of his backside.

"Fuck that's pretty." You moan, hands gliding over the petite globes of his ass. His tight hole flinches at your touch."Peña, have you ever?"

"Once…or twice." The man admits with a hot blush, almost unbelieving he's about to let you fuck him like this.

"I'll go slow." You assure him. You take your thumb in your mouth, wetting it to the best of your ability before slowly pushing it in. "Relax. Let me in." The small digit slowly sinks into him. Earning you a loud moan from him.

"Fucking christ-" He cusses beneath you, leaving a quiet reminder to himself to start keeping some lube on him.

Your thumb rocks slowly in and out. Opening him up for you. "Doing so good, Peña-"

"Javi." He cuts you off abruptly. "Call me Javi."

You can't help the smile that comes over your face, "Okay…Javi. Can you handle more?"

He nods, head falling between his hands. "Yeah. I can take it."

With that, you retract your thumb. Bringing your index and middle finger to your mouth to wet them. You lean in close to his hole, and spit on it. Javi's mouth drops at the feeling of your warm spit against his ass. You work your two fingers into him. Sliding them in slowly. You bite your lip as he encompasses your fingers in his warmth; imagining how good he'll feel around your cock. After a few moments, he begins rocking back against you fucking himself open on your fingers.

"M-more." Peña moans. "Your cock-."

"Shit, Javi are you sure?" He was still so tight around just your two fingers.

Peña reaches back, pushing you off of him. He turns around standing up right and grabs you by the back of the neck. Pulling you into a sloppy kiss. His tongue finds solace in the confines of your mouth; the taste of himself still heavy on your tongue. That neat mustache rubs abrasively against your upper lip. You eagerly swallow down every greedy moan he releases into you. Thick hands find your hips and push you down into the desk chair.

"You wanna fuck me, Agent?" Javier leans in, looming over you, breathing hard. "Get to it then." He says, a hand grinding down on your throbbing bulge.

"Fuck. I got you." You groan, sitting Javier back on the desk. "Needy thing."

You both work to remove your clothes. Javi pulling off his pants and unbuttoning the remainder of his top. You rip your shirt off, throwing it back behind you. Pulling at your pants, desperate to relieve some tension. Finally, freeing your cock from its constraints. Making quick work of the condom and rushing to roll it down over yourself. A pair of legs wrap themselves up around your waist, pulling you closer.

"Hermoso…" Peña pleads, big puppy dog eyes staring up at you. His cock throbs heavy against his stomach. His pretty body is on perfect display beneath you. Just the edges of his broad shoulders were still covered, that pink shirt he wore barely clinging to him.

"I know, I know." You say softly. Spitting into your hand, trying to make everything as slick as possible for him. You lean in close, pressing your forehead to his. "Tell me if it hurts, okay?"

A small quiver in his voice comes through at the softness of your words, "Y-yeah I will…" a tinge of red evident on his cheeks.

"Good boy." You say as you slowly push into him, hands on his hips. Sinking deeper and deeper into Javi's tight hole. Enveloping you in his warmth. Every inch of your cock getting squeezed by his insides. He feels like heaven around you.

Javi is just as enraptured in you. The weight of you pressing against him makes him throb. Your slow breach of him has stars bursting behind his eyes. The stretch stings just slightly, but the pleasure is too overbearing for him to care. He doesn't miss the softness of your words and actions. The sweetness makes his ears go red, and heightens the delinquency of the situation; that is you fucking him on your work desk. A matching moan spilling from both your lips as you bottom out.

"Fuck Javi-" you hiss, rolling your hips out slowly. "You're so tight."

"Mierda." Peña groans out, eyebrows pinched and head thrown back in pleasure.

Another tentative roll of your hips has him loosening up around you. His body eagerly accepts the intrusion. His slender hips hesitantly rocking to meet yours. Bottoming out with each long slow thrust. He feels so fucking good, a desperate need to rut into Javier builds in you. And apparently in Javi too.

"More." He grits out between clenched teeth. "I need more." He repeats pulling you in closer by the back of your neck.

A small smile pulls at the corners of your mouth. Javier Peña likes it rough and you were happy to oblige. On the next roll of your hips, you slam back into him. The corners of the old metal desk Javi is sat upon creaks. He rewards you with a loud whine, cutting himself off with the bite of his lip. You continue. Fucking into him with quick sharp thrusts. Though slightly looser, his tight hole is still gripping you like a vice. It took a lot of work to move yourself in him, having to carve room for your cock from his insides.

The words escape your lips before you even have time to think. "You really don't bottom a lot, huh?" Though a fact, one he'd shared himself earlier, it comes out much more teasing than intended.

He whines in response, ears going red "N-no…"

You don't miss the way his dick jumps. That's when you realize, he's not just putting up with your teasing, Peña likes being degraded. "Fuck- but you like that dick don't you? Needed some cock, Baby?"

"Mierda- yes!" He huffs, eyes rolling back as you grind into him particularly deep.

"Being so good for me. Letting me fuck you on my desk- such a good whore."

That catches his attention. Ears going red. No one had ever called him that before- least not to his face. Sure, he was known as a womanizer but to be called a whore by the man bottomed out inside him? Felt downright humiliating. Javi loved it.

"Gave up that pretty ass so fucking easy." You whisper low into his ear.

Peña's face burns bright with embarrassment. But his cock is throbbing with arousal. A flood of precum running down his throbbing member. A whine coming up from his throat.

You eat up every second of it. Every word spilling from your lips, turning Javi's usual golden skin, flushed red. Even spreading across his beautiful chest. The usually over confident cock DEA agent reduced down to this shy man beneath you. "What? Dirty slut too cock drunk to say anything?"

Javi bites his lips, struggling to maintain your harsh gaze. "S-shut up an-and fuck me." He manages to get out between clenched teeth. Fighting to stave off his orgasm.

"Thought I already was. Or do you want more?" Your eyes glide over his body. Down his broad chest, filling the line of his stomach, and finally to his hard cock. The head is purple and throbbing with need. "Want me to touch you?"

"Fuck yes-" he says with an eager grin. Hips rolling up in anticipation. Needing some relief.

"Beg." You demand with a terrible smile.

"W-what?" He whimpers. Big brown eyes staring up at you, a soft pout on his plush lips.

"Beg me to touch you."

Peña bites his lip to stop the words from coming out; not wanting to give you the satisfaction. Javier Peña has never begged for sex in his life. But with the way his cock is practically pleading for you, he supposed now is as good of a time to start as any. "Please…" He begs, his hand wrapping around your bicep. "Please touch me."

"Good slut." You reward him by taking his cock in hand. Which causes him to grow tighter around you. There's sufficient precum to jerk him in time with your thrusts. With the way he throbs in your hand, you can tell he's close.

"G-good…so perfect- fuck" Javi mumbles incoherently. Rocking his hips below you. Moving himself back and forth between your hand on his dick and your cock in his ass. Letting you get even deeper inside him. Pushing the head of your cock against that perfect spot inside him, that has him seeing stars.

"Fuck Javi-" you moan at the way he clenches around you. Tight and hot. "Want you to cum for me." You say, snapping your hips harder into him. Your own body tightening as your orgasm builds.

Javier's mouth drops open. Legs closing around your hips, pushing you deep inside him. His cries echoing through the empty office. Fingers digging into your back, pulling you close. Javier cries out your name with a choked moan as his hips jerk beneath you. Cum splatters up over his stomach and chest. Head thrown back in ecstasy.

The delicious sight below you has you teetering on the edge of your own climax. You can't help but lean in to take a taste. Dipping your head down to Javier's golden chest, lapping at the warm cum splattered upon him. Another breathy moan escaping the DEA agent as he watches you taste him. His warm brown eyes glued to you.

It's too much. Those eyes on you. His arms and legs wrapped around you. The way his body pulses around you. The salty taste of him on your tongue. And with another half dozen harsh thrusts you finish inside him, filling the condom.

"Javi- Javi!" You moan against his shoulder. Slumping down against him, arms braced on either side to keep some of your weight off of him.

"Fuck…" he breathes out between pants, coming down from his orgasmic haze. Nudging his arched nose against your cheek, leaning in for a soft kiss. Uncaring that he can still taste himself on you.

You happily accept his soft kisses. Enjoying the fuzzy post orgasm feeling. Smiling at the feeling of his fluffy mustache on your lip. Large hands find their way to your face, cupping your cheeks. Reluctantly, you pull off him.

"Javi, I need to slip out, okay?"

He affirms with a nod.

"Relax for me." You say softly, leaning back off of him. Taking one last look at the mess you two made; you grip the condom and pull out. Quickly tying off the end and tossing it in the waste bin.

You look across your desk for the box of tissues, sighing as you survey the damage done to your work space. Your paperwork was scattered. Folders disorganized. Pen holder tipped over. Not to mention the stench of sweat and sex hanging heavy in the air. But all that could wait.

Taking a handful of tissues, you begin cleaning up Javi. Running the paper over his exposed body, gathering the remnant of his orgasm. A soft hiss leaving him as you clean up his softening cock. Another as you gently wipe his slightly gaped hole.

As you turn to clean yourself up you ask, "Are you feeling okay?"

"Y-yeah." He answered simply, slowly rebuttoning his pink shirt. "I'm good."

"Good…here!" You call, tossing him his pants that he'd thrown to the side.

"Thanks." He says, finally unseating himself from your desk.

In a comfortable silence, you each get dressed. Just the soft sound of fabric filling the air between you two. The rustle of pants. The familiar sound of a zipper being pulled. The clink of a belt. It continues until you're both back in your clothes. If it weren't for the mess around you, and the taste of Javi still on your tongue; you'd almost think you'd imagined the whole thing. When you look over at him, he's already staring back. Lit cigarette in hand. Warm brown eyes on you. He's the first to speak up.

"So uhh …round two?" He asks with a lift of his eyebrow, taking another puff of his cigarette. "My place?"

"Fuck yeah." You answer with a smile. Swiping your jacket from the back of your desk chair. Half heartedly reorganizing your desk. Just enough that it wouldn't be so suspicious come Monday morning.

Peña is just as eager. Dipping away momentarily to snatch his leather jacket from his desk across the office. He jogs back over to you, "Ready to go, Hermoso?"

"Yeah, all good." You confirm, letting him guide you out of the shared office building.

You can't help but notice the other agent's usual swagger seems impeded. His typically confident strides were replaced with a shuffle. Each step falling short and heavy. He'd definitely be feeling the events of tonight for the next couple days. Peña brings you to his car, holding the door open for you. Quickly sauntering over to his side of the vehicle.

Once seated, Javier pauses "Listen…that slut shaming shit. Keep it between us? Not on the clock. Deal?"

"Fuck…yeah. I am sorry...really. I was just jealous."

Javier smirks, taking the final huff off his cigarette. "Guess you don't have to be jealous anymore."

"Guess not…" you return his mischievous smile, plucking the end of his cigarette from his lips. Burying the glowing end into the ashtray. "You know, if you need something to suck on I've got something for you."

Javi scoffs, "Only if I'm topping this time." He responds, shifting the car into drive.

"We'll see about that Peña." You roll your eyes, wondering just how many of his buttons you can press before you arrive at his apartment.

#am writes #javier pena x m!reader #javier pena x reader #javier pena fanfic #m!reader #javier pena fanfiction

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spacemagicandlaserswords · 11 months

Text

Open and Waiting (Chapter 5)

Summary: You try out something new with Tech. As it turns out, like with pretty much everything, he knows exactly what he’s doing.

Relationship: Tech x f!reader (mention of Crosshair x f!reader, Hunter x f!reader if you squint)

NSFW 18+ only. Further details and warnings below the cut. Please read the warnings.

Chapter Summary: Tech gets a little rough and then goes to town on your neck with his mouth. You’re reminded of Crosshair’s fondness for nipple clamps and the various times he’s used them on you. And then feelings appear again in the form of healthy kink practices.

Warnings: NSFW, smut, cock warming, domination, submission, Dominant Tech, submissive reader, drool/saliva, cock ring, mouth finger fucking, verbal degradation, naked reader, praise kink, oral kink, use of the word slut to refer to reader, possession, mental domination, humiliation, rough play, physical restraint, marking, nipple clamps, labia clamps, weights, chains, vaginal fingering, punishment, voyeurism, healthy kink practices (not sure this is really a warning but couldn’t think of anywhere else to put it), feelings, porn with feelings, Star Wars swearing, not beta read, no use of y/n. Mentions of: Temperature play

Word Count: 2800

Author’s Notes: Please read the warnings! And please let me know if you enjoyed it. Comments feed my soul etc etc.

There’s not many ‘Mentions of’ warnings for this chapter as the reminiscing sections (as I’ve been calling them) are quite detailed and make up half the chapter. So pretty much everything that appears is listed in the warnings section instead. I’m doing warnings for each chapter along with some standard themes that appear throughout all or most of the fic, hence why they keep changing for each chapter. Hopefully I’ve mentioned everything but if I’ve missed any, please let me know!

Chapters: One, Two, Three, Four, Six | Ao3

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Open and Waiting (Chapter 5)

I’m beginning to wonder if this is going to go on for another 3 hours and 16 minutes. Being prepped and teased and played with for hours sounds utterly torturous. Although, if it means I get four cocks instead of one then that is a sacrifice I am willing to make. Or at least try. I’m not sure how much longer I could last. Tech’s fingers filling and owning my mouth is a heavenly mix of sensation and ignominy but I am craving more. Apparently being made to drool all over yourself and have your mouth used as a personal lube dispenser isn’t enough humiliation.

Perhaps Sir could be ever so kind as to consider impaling me on his cock instead?

I must make the mistake of letting my distraction show on my face as suddenly Tech grips my hair tightly, twists, and pulls my head back sharply. A startled noise escapes my throat as my eyes widen and breath quickens. The lights above are shining straight in my eyes and blowing out my vision like some kind of low grade interrogation. My throat is open and exposed, the skin stretched taut, and I warily glance over at where I think Tech is out of the corner of my eye. Another ridiculously garbled noise leaves me and I realise that Tech’s fingers have followed me to my new trapped position, never shifting from their place of dominion over my mouth.

Tech leans down next to my head, his tall frame looming over me and blocking out the light like an eclipse blotting out the sun. A deadly voice purrs low next to my ear.

“Coat my fingers with your slobber properly, slut. You will need it later on.”

Oh, please Sir. Please.

I let out an utterly ridiculous begging pleading noise that descends into repeated tiny gasping mewls that end up in time with my shuddering. Almost like I’m throwing a tantrum about not being allowed to suck on his fingers like some kind of new-born foal. Maybe the bratty version of me would throat a tantrum but all I want to be is good for him.

I twitch and squeak as Tech runs his hot, wet tongue along the shell of my ear before leaning back to regard me once more.

Those brown eyes sparkle behind his goggles as he scoffs in amusement.

“So needy.” he smoothly observes.

A desperate gurgle is all he gets in response.

I’m sure the terrified whites of my eyes must be plainly evident by now. Usually Hunter is the one to indulge in this sort of thing but right now I feel completely trapped beneath Tech. He could do whatever he wants to me.

And I’d let him.

Tech leans down again to pick up right where he left off, suckling on my earlobe and worrying it between his teeth. He moves to work at a spot high up on my neck and I’m shaking and gasping beneath him, quickened breaths turning to panting. He’s alternating between laving, mouthing, sucking, and biting at the spot he’s picked.

I know what this is.

I’m being marked.

Claimed as his.

The bruise left in his wake will be in plain sight for all to see. None of my clothes have necklines that high and I always wear my hair up so the mark on my neck will be impossible to miss. Everyone will know what happened and who I belong to.

At least until we have to slap some bacta on it to make it quickly disappear before we go out on a mission or land somewhere Republic related.

But at the moment, that doesn’t matter. For now, I’m his, and Tech is making damn sure that everyone knows it.

The sharp edge of his incisors run down the tendon in my neck and I twitch and gasp. I can feel him smiling against my skin. The absolute bastard.

Tech finishes drawing his line of white hot fire down my neck by licking at the hollow of my throat before leaning back to regard his efforts with a critical eye, head cocked to the side.

“That should be sufficient.” he comments idly.

The tight grip on my hair relents as Tech moves his hand to the back of my head, thumb brushing over the mark he’s made. I shiver at the touch but I daren’t move. Sir has not released me from this position.

Tech brushes his thumb over the spot again before pushing down on the bruised area, a solid application of steady force keeping me in my place. The pressure feels divine and I can feel more of my inhibitions slide away as I sink further into submission. I gaze at him through half-lidded eyes as I pant softly around his fingers. Two sharp, brown eyes keep me pinned in place just as much as the hand gripping my neck.

“Now, what does this signify?” he asks coolly.

“That I’m yours Sir.” I answer as best I can manage without the full use of my mouth.

“And who do you belong to?” he follows up with.

“You Sir.” I immediately reply.

“Good.”

The pressure on the spot on my neck relents and I moan and shudder at the release. It feels similar to the nipple clamps Crosshair is so fond of using. The sensation of them closing over my tight, erect buds is utterly exquisite but the release. Oh, the release. When my poor little squished nipples are finally freed and the clamps are taken off, the release is an all consuming wave of sensation that has been enough to push me over the edge. I’d been completely blindsided by that when it first happened, shaking through my sudden orgasm with a startled expression on my face. Mouth open in equal parts surprise and pleasure.

Crosshair had been delighted at this discovery.

I hadn’t seen him quite so pleased with something since he last nailed twenty droids with a single bounced shot.

The ever so slight problem is that once Crosshair discovers something he likes, he refuses to let it go. And apparently torturing my nipples falls into this category of new favourite fascination. I quite like the nipple clamps by themselves, they’re most enjoyable and I’ve worn them for hours before. The chain bouncing against my chest and the clamps poking against my shirt, a clear reminder of what I’m wearing underneath.

It’s when he adds weights to the damn things and ratchets up the clamping force that it becomes a whole new level of torture. Oh, and pulling on them. Crosshair finds a deeply sadistic pleasure in leading me around by my tits, pulling at the chain hanging between the clamps and stretching out my trapped nipples. He’s got this special pair called a monarch nipple vice. They’re a gorgeous piece of silverware and they look beautiful when I’m wearing them but they have an evil little secret. The more the chain is pulled the tighter the clamps get.

And Crosshair loves to yank any kind of chain.

All of this pales in comparison to when the tightly wound, fiercely compressing clamps are removed and all the blood rushes back to my poor, abused nipples. The sudden, intense pain is like a spike straight through them and mixes with the heady relief of release in an intense sensation that has me thrashing and making noises like a wounded animal. The tighter the clamps and the more weight that is pulling on them, the more acute the pain, the more overwhelming the experience, and the greater my reaction is.

Crosshair knows this. And he knows that I know this. And he knows that I know that he knows this.

So he uses it to his full advantage, mercilessly torturing and dominating me as he casually plays with my nipples without a care in the world. The threat of the incoming pain that he holds in his hand wielded just as effectively as one of his stinging slaps across my ass. I’ve been reduced to begging and pleading with him not to release the clamps even though my nipples were aching and throbbing. This usually gets me a dangerous smile full of teeth as he continues to toy with me before showing exactly no mercy and instantly releasing a clamp.

I’d accidentally sworn at him once when he did this. I didn’t mean to. It just came out. But boy did I regret it. I instantly knew I’d screwed up and had gaped up at him in horror, only to be met with a thunderous look. An iron grip on my jaw swiftly followed, forcing my mouth open, and a hissed snarl conveyed every ounce of just how pissed off my current Dom was.

I don’t think I’ve ever grovelled harder in my life.

It made no difference.

The other nipple had taken the punishment and by the time Crosshair had finished it was marked, purple, and had the most weights I’ve ever taken hanging off the clamp like some kind of sadistic tree decoration. Every movement was agony and I was sobbing so hard that my tears ran all the way down my neck and chest to drip off the very nipples that had put me in that predicament in the first place.

I’d collapsed on him when Crosshair finally flicked off the instant release on the remaining nipple clamp. After being unceremoniously deposited on the floor, it was only then, through my blurry tear filled vision, that I saw the shape of Hunter casually leaning against the door frame, watching my whole sorry spectacle.

He’d heard me swear and decided to come and watch the show, as he put it later when handing over two wrapped ice packs as I lay against Crosshair’s chest. Each ice pack was laid gently over my breasts, covering my nipples, and kept in place with his broad hands, long fingers splayed to wrap around each breast and keep me tucked against his chest. The relief was so welcome but the sudden cold was biting and I didn’t know whether to sink into it or shy away. After that particular scene, my poor addled brain hadn’t known what to do so I’d just ended up shifting and whining in confusion. Which may have been a mistake as they’d both shared a knowing look at my reaction. Not that I could’ve done anything about it at that point. I was a boneless mess in my dominants arms and Crosshair kept me cradled against him, both of his hands encompassing my breasts. The soothing coolness of the ice packs relieving my sore nipples as he nuzzled my neck and told me what a good girl I’d been for him.

I’m guessing temperature play is probably going to make an appearance eventually.

My nipples aren’t the only place Crosshair has enjoyed attaching clamps to me. I’ve also had them gripped onto my labia majora and minora, the chain dangling below me, bumping into my inner thighs every time I moved. A reminder of exactly where my current dominant had clamped his control around me. We’d had one session where he’d gotten rather creative, multiple clamps gripping lightly on my sensitive flesh, silver chains framing my vulva like delicate jewellery, dripping down to hang below me.

I’d felt like a rare recherché treasure and he’d treated me like one.

That isn’t usually how sessions with Crosshair go and he’d been true to form next time. If you think weights attached to tight clamps on your nipples are bad, it’s much worse when they’re attached to your labia.

I’d howled.

Crosshair had just smiled like a shark and added more weights to the damn things.

There’s no chance that I’d be spared by the clamps or chains breaking either. Tech has made all of them, so of course they’re perfectly constructed. He’s fastidious about the detail and I’d had to stay there for quite a while as he made adjustments to the length of the chain and the gripping mechanism on the first set of nipple clamps. I’d sat there like the perfect little subject, naked from the waist up, hands clasped behind me, spine straight, shoulders back, tits out, posture absolutely perfect. Every time Tech removed the clamps to adjust something, his leather gloves would brush over my sensitive buds and I’d have to fight not to react. By the end of it I’d been so aroused that my wetness had seeped through my pants, which was plainly obvious given that my legs were wide open as I straddled the bench I’d been told to stay put on. After Tech was satisfied with his work, I’d been presented to Crosshair for approval, which involved even more touching of my overly sensitive nipples. By the time Crosshair had finished inspecting me, I was a barely contained, shivering wreck.

All of my self discipline had been worth it though for the reward they gave me after. I’d been pressed against Crosshair’s chest as he continued to play with me, tugging on the chain and running his nails over and around the sensitive tips of my nipples that were trapped in the clamps. Tech had crowded over me as he slid his hand into my pants, parting my lips and easily sliding his fingers inside me, pumping them in and out of my pussy as I was made to shake apart on his fingers and cum in my pants multiple times.

I’d had to put them straight in the wash after that.

The architect of my undoing, in more ways than one, is currently observing me critically like he did back when he was working on that first set of nipple clamps. His thumb is now rubbing soft little circles over the bruise he marked into my neck. The sensation coils deliciously down my spine and I can’t help the way my eyelids flutter or the sigh that escapes out around his fingers that are resting against my tongue.

Tech rubs a few more circles over my skin before moving his hand to support the back of my neck.

“Sit up.” he orders.

His hand holds my neck and the base of my skull in place as I follow his instruction and bring myself forward. My back protests a little but Tech keeps a firm hand on my neck as I’m moved back into an upright position. Tech crouches in front of me, one of his thighs between mine, his hand wrapped around the back of my neck. His fingers have never left my mouth and I’ve been determinedly keeping it open this entire time.

I must be a good little oral slut for him. Sir expects nothing less.

The perceptive gaze of my current dominant is regarding me with gentleness and care.

“Are you alright?” Tech asks.

“Yes Sir” I reply, as contentment flares in my chest.

He was checking in on me.

I know I’m currently drooling around his fingers as I kneel on the floor, naked and restrained in front of him, but kriff, the care. It means so much to me. It’s part of the reason that I’m able to give myself over to him. To be able to relinquish control. The absolute trust in knowing that I can be completely open and vulnerable with him. That my submission is cradled gently in the safest of hands. That I can submit freely and willingly to his domination, knowing that nothing actually harmful will happen to me.

The pain might hurt in the moment but it’s never about causing damage, or done with the intent to harm. The tears and sobbing are a welcome release that I finally have the chance to let out in the safe space that they create. They might have different approaches but they’re all like this and it’s only with them that I finally trust to let it all go and be freed of my inhibitions and barriers.

It’s only with this care and trust that I am able to be drooling around the fingers of my current dominant as I kneel, naked and restrained, in front of him, wearing the collar and cuffs that he made for me. Tech knows exactly what he’s doing and his approach to domination is just as carefully and assiduously researched and planned as everything else he does.

There’s a gentle squeeze on the back of my neck before Tech withdraws his hand and sits back down on the storage crate that he’s been using as a chair. Brown eyes regard me from behind yellow lenses as I gaze expectantly up at him.

The drool that was pooling around his fingers on my tongue finally reaches critical mass and spills over my bottom lip and slides down my chin.

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Author’s Note: Please let me know if you enjoyed it! Comments feed my soul etc etc.

Much happier with this chapter! This one, and the next, were written in a burst of inspiration haze of keyboard mashing, similar to how I started writing this fic. This chapter (and the next) is also much longer than I’ve been writing for chapters so far. I did consider trying to split it in half but I just couldn’t find a spot that worked and the entire thing was written in one go so it just worked better as one chapter. So you get a monster chapter for a fic that is turning into a monster as well.

Next Chapter Teaser: Our first flashback! More reminiscing! Will the plot (what plot) ever progress?! Or am I doomed to describe filth for the rest of my days? Ahem, anyway onto the actual chapter teaser.

Tech is reassuring in his own way. You reminisce about times with Hunter, Wrecker and Echo, featuring quite possibly the filthiest paragraph I have ever written. You finally get to suck on Tech’s fingers and then Tech gets very, very filthy with his words.

Taglist: @queenariesofnarnia @skywlker-sluvtt @techs-assistant @dangraccoon @iamburdened @pheesupremacy @blondie-bluue @motte-the-goblin @xxeiraxx @tc-99

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afreakingdork · 1 year

Text

Weak Spot - Chapter 16

RotTMNT Donatello x Reader

Warnings: Aged-up Turtles, Romance, Meet Cute, Villain Donatello, Cussing, Crushes, Xenophobia, Fear, Intimidation, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Hurt/Comfort, Love, AFAB Reader, Vaginal Sex, Sex Rough, Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Creampie, Teasing, Scent Kink, Sexual Tension, Breeding Kink, Multiple Orgasms, Slice of Life, POV Second Person, Reader-Insert

Synopsis: Though it hadn't come easily, as these things rarely do, you found yourself in a whirlwind romance with a handsome and mysterious mutant. His idiosyncrasies had been easy to ignore as attraction grew into something more. However, will love endure when the unknowns about him end up being far darker than you ever considered?

Also available on Ao3

First 💜 Previous

WARNING: This chapter contains mind break, extreme fear, and non-con elements. Minors DNI!

Please keep yourself safe and know this is not the norm for this fic.

“Are you ready?” If he were any other version of himself, you might have imagined Donnie would be jumping up and down with glee. Instead, that particular feature played only in his eyes as he evaluated you.

“Yes.” You considered doing some light stretches, but instead scuffed your old tennis shoe soles against the ground. Your whole outfit was a menagerie of pieces that you’d agreed were dispensable and it left you feeling a little grubby.

“The safe word?” He reached out and plucked something from your shoulder before flicking it away. You had a feeling there was nothing there as his excited energy was palpable. He could hardly keep his hands to himself.

“Gargoyle.” You nodded appropriately.

“The terms?” He stepped closer.

You looked up at him with a confident smile. “You have within the time it takes for me to get to your apartment to catch me. Pretty much anything is fair game in the chase outside of bodily harm and illegal acts. If I beat you back then you have to do what I want, within reason, and the reverse is true if you get me.”

He hummed as if a delicious meal had been laid out before him.

Though he’d offhandedly made a comment about the spontaneity of the chase effecting the scent. He’d jumped at the chance to set up parameters with his usual inquisitive excitement. Anything with rules was an experiment in the making and he loved to push the boundaries of science. There were a ton of other caveats that had been discussed in the prior weeks, but it would have taken note cards to remember all the little details. Even today’s date had been one of many tentative selections that seemed to hinge on any number of factors that you had lost sight of. The bare minimum explanation you gave covered enough and Donnie was obviously satisfied with that answer. You still weren’t exactly sure where you landed on the chase as a whole yet, but his overall zeal was intoxicating.

You also weren’t too upset about the intense amount of attention he’d been paying you.

It wasn’t as if you hadn’t been on the receiving end before, but this was the first time you got to accommodate an active role. He had been asking questions at all hours of the day. He didn’t seem to need immediate responses, but it was obviously taking up a majority of his thoughts and he need to get his ideas out as soon as they came to him. From the content, your safety had been his highest priority. If you even hesitated for a moment, he’d either immediately abandon whatever idea or shift to reframe it. It was why you felt especially secure considering how much you didn’t know.

For as many questions as he asked, you had a sense that many of them were red herrings. There were some things so outlandish that they had to be attempts to throw you off. His fatal flaw had coincidentally come with his lengthy planning period. It had given you time to become adept at answering plainly even when asked a fraudulent question. It had been further enforced when you pinged the self-satisfied aura he’d come away with after supposedly tricking you. For all his complexities, he was equally simple in many ways. The dichotomy was adorable and was the secondary reason you let the unknowns slide.

For as often as he liked minimizing his existence, he also loved putting on a show. You assumed he wanted to keep a certain air of mystic since he’d lost the full option for surprise He was probably tampering with the scent like some kind of perfumer.

You rolled your neck and, when you came out of it, he was watching you with a growing smile. “What’s up?”

“One last thing and arguably the most important.” He reached forward and his fingers tickled the underside of your chip. He cupped your jaw and held your face with an intense tenderness that you weren’t expecting. You then glimpsed one last shine of his smile before he leaned forward to place his forehead to yours. “Thank you.”

Had you gotten one of those before?

It was your turn to keep your excitement bottled up for decorum’s sake.

He was about to chase you after all.

Needing to stay strong for the course ahead, you settled on putting your hands over his. “Of course.”

He gave you a little squeeze and then released you. He checked his watch and nodded his head with what you assumed was the second hand. “You have a 10 minute head start.”

You nodded and waved to him despite what was about to happen. He took it in lazily and you turned to head down the road. To you, the starting point had seemed arbitrary, but you doubted that was the same for Donnie. You made it about a block away before you chanced a look back. He was gone from his spot, but you expected as much. You had been wrestling over the head start for the past few days. Initially, you figured you’d try to put as much distance between you and him as possible, but as the date approached, you started to realize how futile that would be. The glimpses of his strength you had seen were mindboggling and you had a hunch that they were all held back versions of what he was actually capable of.

Your best indication had been the night this had all started. He’d been able to disappear in a locked room in the blink of an eye. He’d moved silently only until he wanted to be heard. He’d then manifested with that same speed all while moving objects around.

How were you supposed to compete with that?

You decided you weren’t.

Walking leisurely and stuffing your hands in your pockets, you surveyed the street. There wasn’t an exact path agreed upon and you’d chosen to take the most open road. It meant pedestrians. It meant well lit streets. It meant that someone would notice if you disappeared from plain sight and would certainly call the police. If that happened, it would be an immediate loss on his part. He was crafty without question, but you were curious how he’d try to circumvent that.

Crossing a road and taking a corner, you made up the rest of your time getting to the busier thoroughfare. There were people milling about, lights in windows, and a car here and there. You looked upon them with a smirk and strolled among them. From your pocket you checked your phone and found the time frame had officially started. Replacing the device, you moved to comb the street. So far, there wasn’t anything out of place, but you also weren’t exactly sure what you were looking for. Nothing seemed out of the realm of possibility for him and that started you out on a sort of edge.

Tempering it, you reminded yourself of the structure of horror movies. Suspense needed to be built up in the unwitting protagonist. As far as you knew, Donnie hadn’t tried to bridge his movie knowledge gap. References thrown at him were still left with him waiting for you to explain so you hoped he didn’t knew little about this trope. His only comment about suspense was what you were exactly about to avoid. You wouldn’t ignore the building fear. You’d take in whatever happened and remind yourself each time that it was Donnie doing this.

There was no way he’d hurt you.

Smiling at that, you swiveled on another scan. Approaching an alley, you readied yourself in case a can rolled out or some kind of noise tried to startle you. When nothing did, you almost frowned. It was possible that something like that was too obvious. It was another train of thought you’d been caught on. Acts of service were Donnie’s primary love language, but they ranged from small to big. It seemed dependent on how much impact the move would have. With this, it could go either way, which left it all the more confusing.

Would he stretch it out as long as possible?

Was he just trying to win?

Wasn’t the goal to scare you?

Envisioning displays both large and small, you were caught on which would be preferred. A group of people laughed across the street and you regarded them with a turn of your head. So far it seemed like nothing more than a peaceful night. The total path meant approximately 30 minutes to your destination and you’d already shaved a nice chunk of time off that. You supposed trying to anticipate every contingency was more his style than yours. You only needed to worry about your reaction and getting to his apartment.

With a renewed pep in your step, you crossed another street. You did so with a light jog and a false sense of confidence that you clocked immediately. You couldn’t have that so as you came up the curb, you attempted to beat the air out of the thing. You were socking a mental punching bag when the hum of a streetlight seemed particularly loud. You slowed to look at it and it was hypnotizing in a way. You only broke away when the gleam started to sting and the buzz chased you like tinnitus. You brought a hand up to your ear and rubbed the drum from the outside. The sound abated and when you lowered your hands, you felt the shift.

Turning slowly, you saw that there was no longer anyone out on the road. Even the group of people who should still have been within sight, weren’t on the stoop they’d been leaning against. Moving to look the other direction, no more cars passed. The street was utterly devoid of life. You could almost imagine a cartoon tumble weed rolling through. It was enough to walk you straight off the sidewalk and into the road.

As far as you could see both ways, there were no cars. Even the ones you swore were parked on the sides of the road had vanished. You knew for a fact you hadn’t heard any engines start. Despite your wonder, you’d been on high alert. You’d been scanning for even the slightest anomaly.

He was strong, but there was no way he could make cars disappear.

Right?

Your heart beat picked up slightly and you reminded yourself of the mantra.

It was Donnie.

He wouldn’t hurt you.

Heading back to the sidewalk, you picked up the pace. It was to make up for the time you’d lost exploring. There was no other reason. Another hissing streetlight passed and you glanced past it to the apartments looming overhead.

They were dark.

That had you come to an abrupt halt.

This was New York City.

There was no way someone wasn’t awake.

Doing a vicious double take, the entire line of buildings all stood as black husks of their usual glory. Spinning around, the side of the street you were on was painted in a similar shade. For every single window, not a single glow came through.

You were running.

It wasn’t out of fear, but because you’d clearly walked into something. Donnie had created some kind of simulation. Your sneakers screeched as you came to a halt.

No.

You reached up and scrubbed at your head.

There had been something about that streetlamp so maybe he’d taken the time to drop of VR headset on you. Finding nothing but your own hair, you searched your body. Outside of the chase, he’d definitely said something about never giving you anything without your knowledge. You wondered if that applied here as you searched for any indication that you’d been shot with a dart. Again you search came up with nothing and you raced back through your memories.

What had you done prior to this?

You’d gone to work.

You’d eaten a lunch you packed.

You’d gone home.

You’d washed up.

You’d changed.

You’d ate a light dinner.

You’d gone to meet Donnie.

Could he have tampered with any of that?

Finding nothing you scanned the street again. It was the same ghostly version of itself and you went to check the back of your neck. Smooth skin and bone underneath was all you could feel.

How?

How had he done this?

Returning to the formula of movies, you came to holograms. That was technology well within his wheelhouse and you shot over to the nearest building. You slammed a hand against the brick and didn’t dismiss any projection. Looking up at all the darkened glass, you took several long steps down the road while keeping your hand steady. You still didn’t hit anything and glowered.

It was Donnie.

He wouldn’t hurt you.

Moving out towards the road, you extended a hand as you walked in case you hit a cloaked parked car. You made it an entire block without touching a single thing.

That was a complete impossibility.

There were always cars.

Glancing again to see that the towers overhead were still dark, reeled your hand in.

He had to be watching.

This had been about scent, hadn’t it?

He was close by or would be making sure he could be.

In another rapid pivot, you scanned for cameras.

The first you caught was on the corner near a closed bodega. It’s little white hood was turned all the way in on itself. It had been purposefully turned away from the road it was meant to look upon.

Frowning deeply, your eyes jumped for the next one. You pinged a dark globe that surely held surveillance of some kind. You had to cross the street and didn’t bother looking both ways. As you closed in on the bauble, you caught how matte it was. It took some maneuvering to make the streetlight bounce off of it, but you saw the distinct hurried swipes of black paint.

It had been blacked out.

Heart nearly racing out of your chest, your gaze flew to the rooftops. Across the street was clear and you had to walk back into the road to check your side. It was also clear, but you tracked slowly to catch even the slightest movement. Seeing none, you wobbled overtop a pot hole. It wasn’t too large to warrant city intervention, so you took a few steps back to stare at it.

How was any of this possible?

The only time they’d closed down roads like this was for some kind of filming and even that would require a budget studios rarely paid these days.

Your eyes widened.

Donatello had been known to throw around strange amounts of cash.

Smothering the drum in your chest, you looked up and down the length of road. The only thing that explanation didn’t cover was speed at which things had changed, but you supposed with enough money anything was possible. Quelled, you set your features and hoped he saw. You given into some minor agitation, but you’d found a way out. Feeling more determined, you lifted your head and set your sights on the sidewalk. You lifted your foot and in your first step, you heard a loud noise that bordered on a crunch.

Looking down the street you’d come from, you noticed it was especially dark as far back as could see. Squinting, you barely avoided the pothole as you took a few tentative steps to get a better look. That sound echoed again and this time you watched as a streetlight went out far down the road.

Oh.

You backpedalled and your foot caught the divot in the ground.

In rapid succession as if to catch up with your fall, several lights all extinguished right until the moment your ass hit the road.

Though still a ways down, you could now see there was a clear line where the inky blackness reached.

It had you scrambling to your feet.

Another lamp went out.

You would have to turn away to run. You couldn’t afford to fall again.

It was more of a clack as the next streetlight went dark.

The noise didn’t sound like destruction.

Clack.

It also definitely didn’t sound like flipping a switch.

Clack.

It was like they were being blinked out of existence.

The sound chased you as you belted down the road. It was nearly on your heels as you saw the first corner and took it. He would have had to think this through. He couldn’t just buy the entire city. No one had enough money for that. He would have purchased sections that led to his apartment.

That left you with a choice.

You could play into his horrifying plan by taking his path and the horrors he’d paved along it or you could forge a totally new one and not give him the satisfaction.

There was also something about how it got you further from your destination, but you’d already long given up on trying to outrun him. You just needed to avoid being caught. You needed to surround yourself with people again. You needed light. There was an explosion of trash cans out of an alley and you skidded to a stop in a way that made you fumble to your knees .

You stared owlishly at the trash that smoldered in the road.

There was a sound behind you.

Putting your hands to the ground to stabilize yourself, you turned around.

The entire street you had just come from was pitch black.

Another sound echoed from where you had once been facing.

Dread strangled you and you knew exactly what would be waiting for you if you looked.

Unable to stop it, your head made the move and darkness stretched out in front of you.

Looking up, you stared as the only streetlight still active loomed overhead.

He’d even planned for this.

With the tatters your dignity was in, you shakily got to your feet.

You were standing in the dead center of a glowing oasis.

There was always the safe word.

You could call this all off.

Leaving the bask to lower your head, you took a long breath.

It was Donnie.

He wouldn’t hurt you.

You headed over to the burning trash. The smell assaulted your senses, but you shoved it aside to visually pick through it. There was a pole that seemed to be the remnants of a curtain rod and you picked it up. You then examined the flaming pieces and violently skewered several burning blobs until they formed a torch. You could have easily just used your phone for light, but you hoped this imagery of you not shying away from whatever nonsense he had cooked up would get him.

Even the littlest bit.

You marched out of the light and as soon as you stepped in the darkness, it clicked off.

Your field of vision shrank to the circle the torch afforded you.

You held it at attention as you moved back onto the road you had once been taking. It looked identical though now the flickering light of your source caste odd wobbling shadows amongst the brick.

You didn’t like that.

Ignoring it as it was of your own design, you marched down the sidewalk. You ignored the phantoms lapping at the walls and focused solely on your destination.

It couldn’t be much further now.

You passed a fire escape and heard an odd whistle. Not pausing to indulge it, you heard it pick up. It wasn’t until you felt the first tickles against your arm did you realize what it was. Dropping the torch behind your body a little too late, an absurd gust of wind rushed around you and extinguished the fire in a suck of oxygen. You could smell the smoke billowing off of it more than you could see it. Dropping the thing to the ground in a clatter, you went for your phone. The smooth of your pocket chased your hand and you felt the pinpricks of tears on your eyes.

You couldn’t have misplaced it.

Scouring all your pockets, you found them all empty and sank to the ground.

Could it have happened when you fell?

Which time?

You didn’t hear a phone fall.

That was a pretty distinct noise.

Your eyes widened and in doing so you could only make out vague shapes in the dark.

Had he been so close that he lifted it off of you?

On cue you heard your ringtone go off.

It sounded like it was right behind you.

Spinning around, there was nothing there and the sound was gone.

“No.”

The sound was so pathetic coming off your lips.

You stumbled backwards until your back bit a building.

Had he been ghosting you the whole time?

Moving easily just out of sight with that speed of his?

You resisted the urge to look back and forth. You had a semi-circle of impaired vision and your periphery was good enough.

You saw the faint lines where the sidewalk dropped off, the pole of a darkened street lamp, and the brickwork faintly across the street.

You couldn’t even hear your heartbeat any more.

Your breathing was far too labored.

Against your will, your vision trended upward. You barely saw the glimmer of stars, but that was to be expected with the city’s air pollution. What wasn’t was the lack of moon.

Had he gone so far as to pick the new lunar cycle?

It was Donnie.

You ran.

It was a full tilt run that nearly threw you off your feet as you started.

A sound scraped behind you; almost like a huge metal weight dragging across the road.

You couldn’t look back.

It grew louder until it the distinct sound of splitting rubble joined it.

Your legs were pumping so hard that your knees screamed at the force.

It sounded as if the entire road was being torn open.

It was deafening.

There was no time.

It was so close.

You had to keep moving.

You screwed your eyes shut as your speed caused the wind to sting.

The earth itself was splitting open behind you.

You tried to scream, but the sound refused to reach your ears.

You flew over a curb and across another road.

As soon as you landed back on the sidewalk the sound stopped.

All sound stopped.

How long had it been since you’d even heard the meandering sounds of the city?

Stumbling on limbs that hadn’t been put through this kind of exertion in years, you wheezed.

Silence.

Darkness.

It all threatened to swallow you up.

Your lip quivered as you turned around.

The road was fine.

There was no rubble.

As far back as you could see it was an average street.

You threatened to tip over as you gawked.

You could see quite a ways.

The streetlamps were on.

You flounderd out into the road and a car horn blared.

Reeling, you tripped backwards and landed, hard, on the concrete.

“You okay?”

Shaking and trying to still enough so your vision wasn’t blurred, you looked overhead to find a teenager staring at you with concern.

You knew if you reached out to touch him that he would probably think you were insane.

You probably were.

“J-just… d-distracted… is all…” Your hands quaked and you forced them to the ground. You could sense the kid hover nearby as you got to your feet and immediately had to cling to a mailbox to keep yourself upright. “Tired.”

He gave an unconvinced nod.

You shook your head and stood a little straighter. “I’m just spooked. I’m… alright.”

“Uh, alright. If you’re sure.” He seemed to study you or a second longer before continuing on his way.

You watched him for a long time.

Everything seemed totally normal.

You pushed off the mailbox and took a few tentative steps. Your legs held and from the look of the buildings, you were about 10 minutes away from Donnie’s apartment. You flinched at a mild ruckus that came to you as two people shouted about their relationship status somewhere down the road.

You were dizzy.

You forced your legs to keep propelling you forward.

What had and hadn’t happened?

Running back your memories, you idly passed an alley. Something cold lapped at your arm and you scrubbed at it absentmindedly. It had a thick scaled weight to it and you jumped. There was nothing there, but the mouth of the inlet. You stared into the dark and somehow not even the light of the street could permeate it.

This was bad.

You took a step back and, as soon as your foot hit the pavement, the darkness was around you.

Your fists white knuckled and your spine went rigid.

You weren’t in the alley.

You were still staring at it.

Against every sane thought, you turned to look down the street.

Everything was gone.

All the people you had just seen.

The lights.

The cars.

It was back to the hellscape.

Your eyes burned with tears.

“How?”

Your voice sounded hoarse.

Hadn’t you just screamed the one time?

You turned your attention to the alley.

It was still untouched by illumination.

Something wrapped around your leg and you were airborne.

This time you could hear the scream it pulled from you.

You rose up at least two stories by your leg alone and your hip threatened to pop out of socket.

You clambered to get ahold of anything when the ground was suddenly rushing back to you.

You threw your arms up to block the fall when you stopped short.

Your weight settled and you were up on all fours in an instant.

You had been simply laying on the ground.

You screamed.

As loud as you could with every ounce of oxygen in your body.

The edges of your vision blacked out at the force and you curled into yourself on the ground.

As you regained the tatters of your sanity, you sobbed.

No tears came but your staggered breaths echoed in your ears. You flexed your finger tips into the concrete. Under your pads the uneven surface felt worn and dirty. You clawed at it and raised your head up. In the alley two circles of light stared back at you.

You could feel the color drain from your skin.

They looked almost like eyes and you numbly rocked back until you were sitting on your heels.

You couldn’t look away as they grew closer.

The way they bobbed made it seem like someone was taking steps.

Someone very tall.

They narrowed in on you and you could only hopelessly stare back.

The brightness burned your corneas.

They stopped right at the mouth of the alley.

You opened your mouth as if to speak when the color suddenly clicked over to purple.

It was the last thing you saw something wrapped around your head.

You went to grab at it and found your arms pinned to your sides.

In several rotations you were turned until you felt yourself pressed up against someone. It wasn’t until you tried to pull back that you realized the spin had coiled you up in a snake-like wrap. You sputtered and felt hot breath against your ear as the cloth around your eyes was tied off tightly.

“Caught you.”

The pitch was all wrong.

It didn’t make any sense.

That wasn’t Donnie.

Your stomach bottomed out.

That had been the furthest thought from your mind.

You hadn’t considered that someone else could interfere.

Someone else.

You wanted to vomit.

That would deter them, right?

You tried to summon bile, but you were in motion again.

The blindfold meant your bearings were off as your feet hadn’t been on the floor in who knows how long.

Nothing made sense.

“I’ll have my way with you.”

It was wrong.

It was so wrong.

You couldn’t place that damn voice.

You tried to yell at it, but those heavy vines coiled around your throat. Instead of manipulating you they seemed to simply be writing over your body. You tried to suck in a breath and felt the way scaled surface hooked on your clothes. You hissed as there was a tear somewhere and you only identified in when the chilled metal lapped at your waist.

The wrap fell away from your neck and you desperately tried to regain your bruised voice.

More tearing occurred and you were being spun around again.

Brick bit into your face and the entirety of a wall pressed flush with your body.

Still being jostled, its rough surface chipped nicks into your flesh.

You were nearly naked when you were finally dropped to your feet.

The coils left your arms and you immediately lashed out.

The first strike connected with raw metal.

On contact, you felt the rush of hot fluids from your now blooded knuckles.

The second slap hit something blocky.

It was a shape unmistakable to your hand, but not one you’d ever encountered.

Finally mustering a fist, the last punch connected it with a face.

It was smooth.

No snout.

Not Donnie.

You’d only known it to be a face from the way the person heaved against the strike.

Like someone who’d been punched in the mouth.

You wanted to do more damage when something got hold of the back of your head.

It felt nothing like the tridactyl hands you knew.

Not Donnie.

You found a noise came from you and you went to chase it.

It was smothered as you were again slammed into the wall.

Your jaw was pressed out of place by that dagger-like nails digging viciously into your scalp.

You cried out a single garbled syllable that the figure seemed to momentarily stop at.

They then pressed forth and you felt your hips leave the wall.

You didn’t need specificity for the next thing out of your mouth.

“No!” You hiccupped on the word and dragged it out in agony.

The pressure intensified against your head as your legs were kicked apart.

You fought against the move in a desperate attempt to close them when those terrible coils wound around your legs.

You shrieked and just barely caught the sound of fabric shifting.

You went dead silent at the sound.

You knew what it meant.

Everything started back up in a instant.

Curses came off your lips until a triangle point entered your mouth.

It tasted like steel and you choked on it as it bit into your inner cheek.

Something slotted at your entrance and screeched.

You writhed desperately and felt how it slid easily against you.

There was no way you were wet from this.

What was it?

Not Donnie.

You fought as it pushed into you and felt your will draining away at the thickness.

Even that wasn’t right.

None of it was.

Tears burned into your blindfold until the fabric could hold no more.

It then wrung like a rag against the wall and caused a cascade that comingled with snot dripping from your nose into your mouth.

It was dark.

It felt like you opened your eyes and you were sat in a black room.

It was dark as far as you could see, but there were definitely walls.

Looking down, you found a spiraled pit of black sand. It tickled at your toes and you stepped forward. You sank with each subsequent step. As it reached your waist it grew more difficult to move so you reached down. Scooping up a handful, you watched how the granules refused to stick to your skin.

Even this place was all wrong.

You scooped more and more until you were digging down around your legs. The sand moved away from you as if repelled which made you chase it all the more. Craning over, you dug until you felt what should have been the ground. Your hand instead kept going and you were sucked straight through.

Appearing on the other side as if gravity reversed, you were in a room of all white.

In contrast, it appeared more like a void as you saw no boundary lines.

Pure unadulterated fear filled you as you sensed something behind you.

You spun around with your fists at the ready and froze at the sight: a towering figure of undulating black mist sat staring at you with perfectly rounded white eyes.

You tried to move; to strike the formless blob.

You found yourself trapped and staring at how the smoke wafted off of it in upward clouds that lost opacity.

There were screams there.

The mist was screaming.

It sounded like your voice.

You felt yourself falling.

“Y/N.”

You were seated.

“Y/N!”

Something had a grip on your arm and was shaking you.

You weren’t sure if you were fighting back against it, but you imagined you were.

“Y/N, please! Can you hear me?”

A whine escaped you and you felt a balled fist break free from a blanket.

You were swaddled.

You used it to strike a rock hard chest.

“Y/N, listen. I need you to open your eyes.”

You shook your head.

You had a blindfold on.

“Y/N!”

There were tears again.

They were flowing freely down your cheeks.

“It’s Donatello. I need you to open your eyes. I need you to see that. I’m here. You’re in an alley.”

You continued to struggle, but slowed.

Was that right?

You couldn’t feel anything through the thick cotton tightly wrapped around you.

You pushed away from the voice as far as you could.

There was an arm that stopped you.

You were being held.

You tensed and slowly felt the muscles in your face relax.

They had been tight for so long it burned.

Your eyes came next.

There was no cloth.

How long had it been gone?

You tried to open them but a tacky substance made the move difficult.

You had to psychically peel your lids apart.

The sensation was terrible.

Bleary darkness crept in and you seized up at it.

“Hey. Hey! I’m here. It’s me. You need to look.”

You peered through the tiniest slit.

Donatello was hovering over you, his features bleeding with panic.

You blinked and the sticky goo caused a hitch, but you got your eyes open again. This time you saw past him to a dark sky and a clipping of a brick rooftop.

“I’m here. You’re in an alley. You’re safe.” He leaned forward and basal terror shot through you.

He immediately backed off and your heart ached despite its incongruent beating.

You wanted to cry.

Would that make the gummy feeling go away?

“D…Don?”

“Hi.” One of his hands did a swipe of your face. “Hey.” His other did something similar and you wondered what he was wiping away. “You’re okay.”

Your face immediately contorted up around a well of tears.

You caught only a glimpse of the horror on Donnie’s face before you broke down.

You could feel how dramatic it was, but could do nothing to stop it.

You wailed loudly and felt him gather you up to him.

You fought him blindly long enough to free both your limbs to cling to him.

Cradling you close, you sank into his chest. You weren’t sure for how long, but by your headache you must have cried for a long time. You came out of it in a slow tapering and it carried a clarity along with it. Feeling a hollow shell, but at least incrementally like your usual self, you brought your head up. A handkerchief appeared to the left of Donnie’s head and you did not have the mental facilities to figure out how that had happened. He plucked it from the air and, instead of giving it to you, he wiped at your face, staring with your left eye.

The tenderness he exerted was a soothing balm on your otherwise stunted emotional state. The cloth came away and he adjusted it. You watched blearily as you noticed the marks that stained it. You must have been pretty dirty which explained the sticky feeling. You weren’t exactly sure when it’d happened, but so much had gotten away from you at this point you still weren’t truly sure this was even real. He brushed your right eye before wrapping the hankie around your nose. You took over from there and gave a blow.

Gathering as much snot as you could, you caught the very thinly veiled disgust on Donnie’s face. It brought a faint smile to your face that you hid within the cloth. Exhaustion was eating away at you and you shifted against the tightly wrapped blanket. Earlier, it probably served a greater purpose, but now it felt restrictive. One of Donnie’s hands landed on your knee and caught the unfurling edge.

“It’s covering you up.”

That made sense, but everything that had happened felt like a far flung memory. Still, you focused on your body and with it felt the tatters of clothes left. A clipping of snake-like coils came too, but you abandoned the thought as soon as they reared. Focusing on the now, you tried to locate the most pressing matter that needed to be dealt with. “I want to go home.” There was a shattered quality to your voice as you looked up at Donnie.

He was immediately caught by your gaze in a fearful way. He then shifted and seemed to be tapping on something behind your head. “I’ll summon the car, it’ll just take-”

You shook your head and pressed a hand to his plastron to stop him.

He froze up in wait.

“Your home.” You clarified before ducking into his chest. You no longer had the energy for embarrassment, but you had pictured his apartment when you said the phrase.

What did that mean?

It didn’t matter, everything was jumbled anyway.

Something seemed to click for him and you could feel the determination wafting off of him. “In that case…”

He rose up with you bundled in his arms. Another other time and you might have protested to walk. Right now, that seemed like too much of a chore.

Everything did.

You curled your face into his neck. “Now.”

Even with you pressed to him, he cradled you impossibly closer until he tipped his head down to whisper in your ear. “Hold on.”

Your arms were technically free, but you couldn’t manage getting them around his neck. Instead you settled for tucking your hands against his plastron before everything shifted into motion. The sharp air current meant you were moving at an insane speed, but it barely registered in your overtaxed senses. You winced into Donnie’s throat and tried to shut out all errant sensations that weren’t him.

He kept the jostling to a minimum and you only allowed yourself to feel once a door was opened. Set to a speed walk, you peered over his shoulder to find you were in his apartment building. It didn’t look like the lobby, but you snuggled back into your cocoon. There was a momentary pause at a door and you heard no keys jingle as it opened. You were vaguely aware he hadn’t even needed to juggle you to get the threshold open, but all curiosity dissipated as you were carefully deposited on the couch. He then knelt on one knee in front of you and was the picture of concern.

“What do you need?”

You weren’t sure so you shook your head.

Donnie did not appear content with this answer and stood. “I’m going to make some tea and run you..” He looked you over. “A shower would be preferable with the grime, but baths have soothing connotations...”

“Bath.” You agreed and idly wondered at how filthy you were.

Donnie padded off to the kitchen and you heard several sounds that didn’t seem like putting a kettle on. There was a metallic nature that you shrank away from so you focused the dirt splotches on your blanket. Having the time to examine the thing in the artificial light of the apartment, you smoothed a hand over its pale purple surface. It had the density of a down comforter, but you hadn’t seen anything like this in his apartment. You wondered how he had such a bulky thing on hand when you caught a glimpse of yours. Your palms were near black and you saw a faint reel of how many times you’d placed them on the ground. Grimacing, you unfurled the blanket burrito to stand.

Immediately regretting the decision, the colder outside air leaked in and lapped at your bare skin. Of your shirt, all that was left was the collar and one sleeve that hung on for dear life. The rest was gone along with your undergarments. Down below, the waistband on your pants still sat on your hips, but they had been split in twain. You couldn’t even call the fabric left shorts and you only had one tennis shoe left with a blackened sock poked with holes on the other foot.

Donnie caught wind of your discomfort and headed over as you loosely tented the blanket back around you. He hovered nearby and you plopped back down on the couch, defeated. He lowered to a knee to get a glimpse of your downtrodden face.

“Y/N.”

“How do I know what’s real?” You tried your damndest to keep your voice even.

He seemed to think before reaching out to brush your cheek. “This is real.”

He’s said that before.

Hadn’t he?

You wanted to believe him. “Is it?”

His brows knit and there was a beep from the kitchen. He grumbled something under his breath before departing. Keeping your gaze glued to the floor, you listened as water was poured into two different receptacles. Something digital beeped as you assumed a timer was set before he reappeared in your sight line.

You turned away from him.

He made a move to take your hand, but stopped short. You imagined he probably didn’t want to touch you considering how dirty you were and tucked the appendage into the blanket. He rose and departed before you heard another rush of water. When he came back, he took his spot on the floor and gently coaxed you into revealing your limbs. He then carefully took your hand and used a damp wash cloth to gently work away the grime. There was something soothing about his methodical process and he was just able to reveal your skin when the alarm went off. He took the rag with him and returned with two mugs.

He passed you yours and you cradled it. The scented steam wafted into your face and you basked in it. There was a dip as he sat beside you on the couch and after taking tiny sips, you eventually tipped to lean a head on his arm. For once you wished he was a little shorter so you could manage his shoulder and get his head on top of yours. You settled for the tea which warmed your insides. The feeling paired with the blanket built up a coziness that had your lids drooping. You were only scarcely aware when Donnie persuaded you to release your mug into his possession.

“What was that?”

“My own blend.” His voice traveled to the kitchen.

You had a dozen questions and at least one sarcastic remark to that but you landed on only a hum.

“It’s to help me sleep.” He seemed like he was was coming back, but bypassed the couch entirely.

You sort of wanted to follow him, but settled on peering over the back of the couch.

He quickly disappeared behind the partition and you heard a water being run from the bathroom. Pressures seemed to be adjusted before he came back and leaned against the dividing wall. “I prioritized a soothing herbal blend with antioxidants and anti-inflammatory properties along with my own flavor preferences.”

You gave a nod and wished you could translate how happy you were that he’d expanded on the topic all on his own.

It was still a fraction of how overjoyed you should have been.

He mulled something over before disappearing again.

The flow of water shifted and you imagined it must have come up to temp. The tub was presumably filling and you’d have to get to your feet soon. The thought of the how dark the water was daunted you and you didn’t sense when Donnie had returned to your side. You jumped at him with wide eyes and he seemed pain in contrast. He urged you to stand and you did so leaning heavily into him to instead focus on keeping the blanket up. He walked you over to the door of the bathroom before splitting away to stand in front of you.

You had an awareness of how sad your eyes looked as you watched him.

It was enforced as he seemed unable to hold your gaze. He silently reached out and pinched a little of the comforter’s fabric.

Knowing you needed to shed it, shame filled you from the toes up as you let the dirty thing fall to the floor.

Whatever he saw in your fully exposed frame he didn’t seem to like because he stopped. You watched one of his hands fist and realized the other wasn’t in view. Searching, you found it near his chest with scissors in hand. A chill ran up your spine and you hated the way you leaned away from the sight of the metal.

He seemed aware and moved them out of your sight before stepping close. “Look at me.”

Reluctantly, you lifted your head.

He gave you a nod before dropping his gaze.

You tried to close your eyes, but he stopped as soon as you did. Sensing he wouldn’t continue unless you watched him, you forced your lids up. A overflowing warmth was waiting for you and you took it with a slow blink. Finding the interaction assuring, he moved forward. You felt him pull your collar away from your neck before cutting it free. The scissors were especially sharp as they sliced though the fabric, but the sound was grating. He moved to snip the sleeve next and your throat burned as the fabric fell away. He then hooked a beltloop to avoid brushing your skin and this time the sound of the cut felt like it was ripping your ears open. You held out until the fabric could not and collapsed into him.

Pathetic.

You had never felt more pathetic in your life.

He held you for a moment before you were hoisted up. His hands seemed clear of the scissors and you were grateful for it. In a turn, he somehow discarded your socks and shoe. The bathtub was nearing a good fill point as you caught sight of it. He balanced you on a knee as he turned off the water. He then held you hand as you toed in. As expected, a dirty aura appeared as soon as your foot dipped down into the steaming embrace. You ignored it and tried to focus on the warmth instead. You were soon submerged and you watched as the water rose to a dangerous level. Donnie’s hand ducked into the water and you watched as a wobbly version of his arm fiddled with the stopper.

The loud gurgling of the measured drainage didn’t startle you, but brought with it a sort of clarity. Your eyes widened as you saw the water seep into his wraps. Following the appendage back to its host, you realized he was shirtless. From his knelt position, there was a pooling of black fabric around his hips. You identified it as some sort of jumpsuit that he had undone and let lie slack around his waist. You leaned a little over the lip of the tub and found his feet bare. You hadn’t gotten a close look at them yet and studied the two toes you could see.

His hand came up and he flicked the water away from it. “How’s that?”

As if caught doing something bad, you tucked back into yourself where you were holding your legs up to your chest. It meant only your head, shoulders, and knees broke the surface of the water. You gave a small nod and he reached behind him to grab something. He returned with a loofa that you knew to be regular sized, but looked mini under his large palms. He wet it before adding some soap. He then sudsed it up and delicately brought it to your shoulders all while checking with you. You gave another nod for him to continue and he began to carefully scrub at your skin.

“What happened?”

He seemed ready for the question and continued his task without missing a beat. “To say I made a mistake would be a grave understatement.”

You pressed your cheek to one of your knees to watch him.

He took up the new real estate this revealed on your back with a wary wash. “I made a series of mistakes that I can’t make up for.”

He slowed and you brought your head up. He shifted positions which allowed him to more comfortably clean your far shoulder.

“The first was the repugnant extremes I went to.” He stopped to rinse the loofa and renew the soap.

You offered him your arm.

“I didn’t stalk you. I terrorized you.” His snout crinkled. “Traumatized.”

You couldn’t disagree and glimpsed how murky the water was getting.

You had to look away from the darkness.

“When I caught you-”

You snapped your head to him.

“-my next error was that I hadn’t realize the extent of this.”

You opened your mouth and looked away as your breathing sped up.

“I relied on you to tell me the safe word. I saw the look in your eye. I noticed how you fought back, but I thought you’d-” He bit down on the sentence with a click of his teeth.

You crouched down until your mouth dipped below the water’s surface.

“I listened. I waited again and again for you to say it. You said so many other things. I even heeded the amount of syllables. Straining to hear if it even sounded close to ‘gargoyle;’ I was going to stop. I…” His voice teetered on shattering.

You squeezed your eyes shut.

“I should have stopped it then. I’m a fool.” The resolute desperation painted his depreciation in a foreboding light.

Having to come up for air, you forced it to stay even.

“I only realized that you had long lost the ability to speak it around the time that I grasped it wasn’t the only thing I’d lost.” His hand went limp and fell into the tub.

You peeked at him.

“I forced myself on you.” His teeth gnashed. He looked away before he returned with steeled features.

“It… was… you?”

“There is a laundry list of things that I will never be able to come back from, but this?” The hollow bite of his words only emphasized the sheen to his eyes.

“But it was you. Like actually you?” You shifted and the water in the tub sloshed angrily. “There wasn’t anyone else?”

He looked at you as if you were insane. “It was me.”

“Why didn’t it-?” The memories assaulted you and you went stiff under the weight of them. You forced yourself to sift and despite the many oddities, you placed Donnie’s image behind each of them. The pieces still didn’t quite fit, but they no longer looked as daunting. It raised a thousand more questions, but it solved the one that plagued you the most.

Tears welled up in your eyes.

You had to grab him.

You didn’t care that you were wet or the that your arm streaked with dirty water as you shot towards him. He caught you half out of tub in surprise and immediately shifted the balance so you were back in it. You were crying again and you tugged on his neck mercilessly.

“Y-Y/N!?” He had to submerge one of his arms to hold himself upright.

“It was you!”

“I don’t understand why that is something to commemorate.” His other arm dipped into the water and found your lower back. It arched you into him to bring your face away from his chest so he could examine you. “If anything it’s a conviction.”

You shook your head, little tears breaking free from your cheeks. “I thought…” You suddenly felt very stupid and shirked against it. “I thought… I was convinced someone else had…”

There was a loud thud that must have been his palm against the tub. You searched for it as the vibration shook your body before bringing your gaze back to his face. You found a burning rage barely offset there. “No one else is allowed to lay a single finger on you-” He seemed to remember himself and looked away with a hiss that you assumed was him blowing the steam away. “-without… your consent… of course.”

You softened and in doing so a new little horde of tears escaped. You tugged on his neck. “I was scared.”

He forced himself to look at you.

“Out of my mind, but I was more upset at the thought that someone else had-”

“It was me.” He clarified with that same angry edge.

You nodded a sort of smile bringing your cheeks up. “I’m glad.”

A deep frown etched itself into his face. “I would advise against that considering the circumstances.”

“If I had realized-” You grimaced as the humiliation of your failure started to take a formidable shape. “-I knew what was going to happen, but I still let myself get wrapped up in it. If I had just realized it was you, then it wouldn’t…shouldn’t have been so…”

“Y/N…”

You shoved past the reproach in his voice. “If we try again-”

“No. Never.” He hardened his gaze. “I will never subject you to that again.”

“But you-”

“-have lost complete interest in the concept. It repulses me now, in fact.”

Your lips pursed in a bare pout and he bumped his forehead against yours. You nuzzled your nose against his snout and he calmed incrementally.

There was little you could do with his mind made up.

“How did you-?” The way the streetlamps went out ghosted through your mind and you squeezed Donnie a little tighter. “-do that?”

“Can you shower?” He reached back and pulled your arm wreath out from over his head.

You paired your pout with a beginnings of a glare. “Donnie.”

His arms retracted from the bathwater and he toweled them off as he leaned back.

“Donatello.”

“We can discuss other matters once your clean.”

“I know enough that when you say it like that then you’re going to avoid the subject!”

“It would be…” He didn’t hesitate at the thought, but instead it seemed as if he didn’t have the vocabulary to voice it. “…impossible to elaborate on without explaining at least a hundred other principles first.”

You bobbed with a shock that he’d revealed that much.

“Which are also things that humans aren’t supposed to have knowledge of.”

Your lips parted.

He pointed up.

You traced his finger and realized he was emphasizing the shower head. “Yeah. I think I’ve got it.”

“I’m going to wait nearby. You can decide whether that’ll be in here or just outside the door.”

You ran a hand along the sludgy bottom of the tub until you found the stopper. “In here.”

You saw him nod in your periphery and he flipped the sink tap.

You pulled the stopper and that incessant gurgling started as the tub drained. You stood with a hand to the wall and found your limbs far less shaky than they had once been. Donnie then ushered you to the side as he fiddled with the shower knobs. It came to life with a flicker and he ran a hand under it before waving you under as he departed. The curtain clattered closed on its rungs and you stepped under the perfectly tempered spray.

“Are your wraps okay?”

“They’re not waterproof, but they won’t be damaged by it.”

You glimpsed a row of bottles at your new height and identified all your shower usual products. You rolled your eyes and grabbed the shampoo.

“I’ll change them in a moment.”

“Sure.” Working up a lather, you resisted the urge to peek. You instead focused on getting through the laborious process of getting clean. It took you at least two shampoos and so many passes with the loofa that it actually unraveled. You nearly laughed at the thing, but it had at least done its job before laying its life down in the line of duty. Rinsing one last time, you went for the knob. “I’m done!”

“Ready.”

Pulling the curtain back, you found him waiting with an outstretched towel strung between his arms. You tilted your head at him cutely before stepping towards him. He wrapped you up and pulled you close. You smiled up at him until he pulled away with the cotton securely fastened around you. He then draped another towel carefully over your head. “I think I can manage drying myself off.”

He gave a languid nod before taking a few steps back.

You were about to shoo him away when you caught that he had changed. He was still barefoot, but he had clearly washed up. He had new, dry wraps wound around his arms and neck. His chest was still bare, but a pair of black joggers sat lethally low on his hips. You squashed the indecent thoughts that came up considering the night you’d had. You could not be trusted so you scrubbed the towel over your face. When you were dry enough you padded out to find several options laid out for you on the bed. You picked a pair of underwear and reviewed a pair of pajamas. You vaguely remembered giving them to him under the original stipulations of the night. It felt like a lifetime ago. He’d also set out the t-shirt he’d once let you wear and you picked that.

Dressed, you glimpsed him at the kitchen sink and headed towards him. There was the faint scent of citrus in the air and you found the couch was clear from what surely should have been some kind of dirty fallout. You wondered when he’d had enough time to give the place what seemed to be a deep clean.

“Are you hungry?”

You shook your head and felt the pull of the bed. You gave up on joining him and retreated the distance back to it with a face plant. It was soft under your body and you quickly rolled over onto your back. Donnie appeared over head and crawled up beside to overlook you.

“Are you okay?” You reached for him.

He lowered himself to you. “That should be the least of your concerns.”

“I didn’t see any bruises.”

“Psychological trauma can be far more damaging.”

You cupped his cheek. “Sure, I’m probably gonna be recovering from this for awhile, but I don’t see you any differently.”

“Not only should that be impossible, but it is concerning you do not.”

“I knew what I signed up for.”

“You admitted you didn’t.” He frowned.

You desperately wanted to kiss it away, but he had a sort of resolve. You rose up in an attempt to meet him. He didn’t pull away, but turned his head. You pecked the corner of his lips.

“Y/N, I acknowledge I have made light of the dangers you’ve been in prior, but I need you to listen.”

You swiped your thumb over his cheek. “I hear you.”

“What happened tonight was egregious. It cannot be undone or mended.”

You thought about it before giving a small nod.

“It would be best if in the morning you-”

You pressed your thumb into his lips. “That’s not going to happen.”

“Y/N…”

“I don’t hear you walking away.”

You watched him fight to keep his gaze on you.

“It has to be me because you can’t bring yourself to be the one to do it, right?”

His features dropped and there was a desperate quality to his eyes.

“I’m choosing to stay. I’ve heard and seen how upset you are. You swore to me this wouldn’t happen again, remember?.”

He reached up to cover your hand with his own. You took note of the shake that was there.

“I’m in it.” You pulled him down and this time he came easily. “I’m in this with you, for as long as you’ll have me.”

With the first kiss you meant to seal your resolve.

The second you couldn’t account for as he chased you with an amount of adoration that neither of you were prepared for.

I love you.

You had the bury the revelation by kissing him a third time.

When you came away you almost said it aloud.

The grip you had on it was far too weak and you lay there with your mouth open in preparation to release it.

It was too soon.

You were still mixed up from the day.

There had been so many emotions.

You needed to wait to see if this one would stick.

“I can guarantee that tonight won’t happen again, but there are a thousand things I can’t prevent.”

He was also busy fighting his own battles.

He didn’t need anything on top of that.

“Then we’ll take them one at a time.”

He gave a frustrated huff and buried his face into the bedding beside your head. It brought his shoulder up to your face and you gave it a soothing rub.

He said something into the mattress you couldn’t hear.

You smiled and leaned your head against his.

#rottmnt #rottmnt donnie x reader #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt x reader #donatello hamato #donnie x reader #rise donnie #rise donnie x reader #rottmnt donatello #rottmnt donnie #me #fanfiction #my fanfiction #weakspotfic

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thedooristhebluecushion · 2 years

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Now that their half of the season is officially over, here are some headcannons I will never let go of:

As Payu heals, Rain is the gentlest nurse & lover. He also learns a few new tricks.

Payu asks Rain if he wants to top because he wants him to experiment and know what he really likes.

Rain becomes the best student in his class bc his praise kink becomes more powerful than his laziness.

Rain moves in with Payu and doesn’t realize, his stuff just starts showing up at the house & he doesn’t overthink it. It’s not till he goes home, his room is empty & his mom mentions a conversation with Payu that he finds out he’s been living at the garage for months.

Payu takes Rain on the best dates and in return Rain stops waiting in downpours.

They open their own very successful architecture firm together.

Payu’s parents, Vegas & Pete, come visit & absolutely love Rain bc he reminds them of their very own himbo, Porsche. (I will not be taking any questions, comments or criticisms at this time.)

The reasons Rain is so distraught when his mom came into the room is bc Payu was doing more to him than medicating.

The model car was actually a condom dispenser.

9 years & 11 months into the relationship, Rain gets tired of waiting and proposes to Payu, thoroughly ruining Payu’s plans to mess with Rain’s car so it magically breaks down in the place they first met, where he planned to then ask Rain to marry him on their 10th Anniversary. He says yes anyway.

Bonus:

11. P’Saifha & P’Som meet & fall in love.

#love in the air #love in the air the series #lita #love in the air headcannon #payu x rain #payurain

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pruning-the-minds-garden · 1 year

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So You Wanna Get Hypnotized? (Guide to Being a Hypnotic Subject)

People often assume that hypnotizing someone is an active process while being hypnotized is a passive process, but that’s not the whole truth. Both aspects rely on the active participation of the people involved. Both are skills in their own right, mental muscles can be trained and strengthened. Also, there are aspects of being a hypnotic subject (or hypnotee, or whatever your preferred term may be) that go beyond hypnotic susceptibility or ability to fall into a trance, that you will want to develop in order to make your experience as a hypnokinkster a positive and enjoyable one. Lets talk about all those.

Training Your Mental Muscles for Hypnosis

How do you get better at being hypnotized? The easiest way is also the most straightforward:by being hypnotized. The more often you go into trance, the easier you will find the process. And if at first you don’t succeed, try try again. The more inductions* you go through the more you will learn about what works – and what doesn’t work – for you. What I recommend for new subjects is to not stick with one hypnotist, one induction style or one brand of suggestion/kink (unless you are only really interested in one, that is), but to explore a variety. That is especially true if your first trance experience goes poorly, or is disappointing. Don’t be “thirsty” about it, treating hypnotists like kink dispensers, but be willing and eager to explore and learn about yourself and your preferences before you settle for anything in particular. If you find it hard to trust people (and it’s totally understandable if that’s that case!), then you should instead seek out – again,trustworthy!– files and other passive sources for trance. Investigate them for “land mines” before you play them through in their entirety, though. That is, make sure that there’s nothing in there that you aren’t comfortable with (stuff like exclusivity suggestions, total orgasm denial, gender transformation [again, if that’s not something you are interested in], etc) positionedafterthe induction in a given file. So, listen to the back half with the intent of analyzing it before you listen to the whole file, including the induction, with the intent to get hypnotized.

If you don’t want to watch/listen to files or can’t find a hypnotist who is interested in hypnotizing you (and trust me, I sympathize there. The struggle is real.), there are still options available to you. The first is self-hypnosis, which is akin to how you can practice rope bondage with self-ties. It is similar to meditating, in that you sit, breathe slow and deep and steady, count your breaths, and try to slow your mind and relax your body. Focus on an image in your mind that helps you to count down toward a deeper, more relaxed state, like walking down a set of stairs or watching a clock as it slowly winds down. If you have trouble visualizing, then use the senses that are strongest for you as your focus, be they hearing (a ticking metronome that slowly ticks more slowly), touch (a heartbeat slowing down), smell (catching a scent but doing so more and more slowly as your breathing slows down, and the scent fades as your mind fades), or something else. What matters here is intent, repetition, and focus. You want to practice putting all your mental eggs in one basket, focusing completely (or more and more completely) on one task, and excluding other external stimuli. After that, you can focus on suggestibility, but that is almost certainly done best with either a partner or through watching/listening to files.

Looking for people who make files and/or hypnotists who are trustworthy but don’t know where to start? There are groups here on Fetlife for that, but also reach out to me via a comment here or a message and I’ll gladly help you.

This is just part of my larger Guide To Being a Hypnotic Subject! Click the link to read the whole thing.

#q #hypnokink #hypnokink basics #hypnokink community #guide to being a hypnotic subject #Writings on Safety & Consent

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littleashleylynn · 2 years

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Domestic Bliss | Eddie x Chrissy | Part 2

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Chrissy Cunningham

Warnings: MINORS DNI!! Porn with no real plot, tons of smut, breeding kink, food porn, rough sex, oral sex, dirty talk, praise kink, daddy kink, spanking, dom!eddie / sub!chrissy, masturbating, smutty smut smut, unprotected sex (in my head Chrissy is on the pill so BE SAFE AND WRAP IT BEFORE SEX OKAY)

Reblogs and comments super appreciated ;)

PART 1 HERE

Upstairs, Chrissy starts smelling the scent of something sweet cooking downstairs. Eddie wanted her to stay put so he can surprise her with this amazing breakfast he promised, but she couldn’t stay away from him another second. She slid out of her bed, feet touching the floor of her plush rug. She went over to her closet and found her pink silk robe and slid it on to cover her naked body. Chrissy slinks out if her bedroom and softly walks down the stairs towards the kitchen.

She peers into the kitchen to see Eddie with his back towards her, leaning on his elbows on the kitchen island. He was absentmindedly carving the tops off strawberries one by one with a tiny knife in the palm of his hand, almost like whittling pieces of wood. She could see his cigarette dangling from his lips in concentration and how the way he was sticking his ass out to lean on the counter made her see the outline of his sack between his legs. She didn’t want to scare him while he was holding a knife in his hands so she just studied his body with her pretty blue eyes, long eyelashes fluttering. She waited until he took a cigarette break to sneak up behind him and wrap her arms around his waist, pressing her silk, covered breasts into his naked back. She plants sweet soft kisses in the middle of his spine. Eddie cranes his head to look at her.

“You’re supposed to be in bed awaiting your breakfast, princess.” Eddie smiled, holding her hands in front of his stomach.

“I just couldn’t be away from you any longer.” Chrissy purred. After last night, she is just so hungover from his cock and addicted to his natural smell, like a kitten in heat. Nobody has ever made her feel this way before. She slipped her hands out of his hands so she can slip them under the hem of his boxers to grab his perfect ass cheeks. She giggled at her mischievous act. Eddie took a spatula and flipped the finished French toast pieces on to a plate before they could burn as he felt Chrissy’s nails dig into his flesh.

“Who knew that sweet little Chrissy Cunningham would be such a horny little thing?” Eddie growled arching an eyebrow finishing the dish so that his little vixen can have her breakfast. Chrissy giggled again and her hands left the globes of Eddie’s backside to perch them on either side of his shoulders. She used his shoulders as leverage along with her tippy toes so she can get close enough to his ear to whisper darkly:

“Well, you’re the one who corrupted me, baby.”

Eddie swallowed, breath hitched, body frozen.

He turned around between Chrissy and kitchen island so that now his back is pressed against the cold countertop. “Keep talking like that dollface and you just might miss breakfast.” He growled bringing his pointer finger under her chin to lift it so her doe eyes looked directly into his. He watched, for that silent moment, as Chrissy’s breasts moved up and down from her breathing.

“We don’t have to miss breakfast, you know,” Chrissy began.

“We don’t?” Eddie challenged with a smirk, blowing smoke to the left of them then putting out his cigarette in the nearby ash tray.

“Nope,” Chrissy chirped, eying the finished plate of French toast adorned with strawberries. “And I’m sorry to tell you, the French toast isn’t as perfect as you promised,” she hummed. Eddie didn’t say a word and just watched as she sauntered over to the fridge and opened it, taking out a can of whipped cream and shaking it as she walked back over to the plate. “I like whipped cream on my French toast.” She said as she dispensed a decent-sized dollop of whipped cream on top of the stack, covering some of the strawberries. Eddie still didn’t say a word, lips slightly parted, eyes locked on her with the feeling that something was coming next. She ran her dainty finger through the whipped cream so she can suck it off, making direct eye contact with Eddie.

Eddie felt himself begin to harden beneath his boxers and began absentmindedly palming himself above the fabric. “I mean, you’re not wrong baby...” He purred, eyeing her up and down.

Suddenly his arousal came over him and he grabbed Chrissy by the waist, and in one swoop, hoisted her onto the countertop as a surprised little squeak left her lips. He felt that familiar fire in his belly as he grew more primal by the second. He ripped open Chrissy’s pink silk robe so that her breasts and sweet little core was exposed to the air.

“Eddie!” Chrissy gasped, pretending to protest his actions.

Eddie grabbed the can of whipped cream next to them and shook it as he growled:

“…I like whipped cream too…but not on French toast…I like my whipped cream on sweet, sweet, pussy.”

And in one swift motion, sprayed a line of the fluffy cream directly over her aching clit, then stuck out his fat tongue to lap it all up.

“Oh goodness, Eddie!” Chrissy moaned out with her sweet little voice, hands grasping at the top of Eddie’s head and pulling at his curls.

Eddie repeated the same act, dispensing more of the sweet topping this time all over the puffy folds. He licks at her like a starving wolf and then looks up at her while she’s writhing, whipped cream all over his nose and chin.

“So innocent,” He chuckles darkly, referring to her saying ‘goodness’ like a little church mouse, “Say, ‘fuck’, baby. Say ‘oh, FUCK, Eddie’” he growled, rubbing a messy thumb over needy clit, licking his lips. Chrissy looked so fucked out already and could barely speak.

“Can’t say it?” Eddie teased, pouting up at her. “No problem,” He said, removing himself from between her legs. She whined at his absence and he completely ignored her, making his way back to the fridge. He opened it, pondering his selections while sucking on his ring-clad fingers, coated in a sticky residue from the cream. Then he finally came across the bottle of maple syrup he was supposed to use to top the French toast before Chrissy came downstairs. He grabbed the bottle and made his way back to Chrissy.

With sweet eyes blinking at him, Chrissy watched as Eddie opened the cap of the syrup to give it a little taste.

“Oh – I’ll make you swear.” Eddie said removing his maple coated finger out of his mouth with a pop. “I’ll make you have such a dirty little mouth, sweet Chrissy.” He puts the syrup down on the counter next to her naked thigh and then walks away again to get more ‘ingredients’.

“I am assuming my sweet little innocent princess drinks tea, right?” Eddie asked searching through the cabinets. Chrissy nodded watching in anticipation.

“Bingo.” He said out loud to himself, finding a bottle of honey.

“What are you up to Eddie?” Chrissy asked sweetly with a curious smile.

“Oh me?” Eddie joked. “I am just making breakfast. You’re right, we can’t miss it. It’s the most important meal of the day.” Chrissy looked at him, with a confused but playful look, mouth agape as if she was about to say something back to him. She was wondering where this was going because all she can think about is when he was going to come back and pleasure her some more.

“Oh wait..” He pondered to himself, going back into the fridge, pulling out a jar of grape jelly and putting that and the bottle of honey next to the maple syrup.

“What are you making?” Chrissy laughed, hands still gripping to stabilize herself on the counter.

“You’ll see, doll.” Eddie answered, opening and shutting random cabinet doors until he came across a brand new bottle of chocolate syrup.

“Did I ever tell you I just love chocolate sauce on my pancakes? Well these aren’t pancakes but I think it will still taste good.” Eddie quipped, making her think he was talking about the French toast for some reason. He brought the syrup to his collection of other toppings. Eddie opened the jar of jelly first and dove two fingers right in.

“Eddie!” Chrissy yelped instinctively, knowing now he’s getting his dirty fingers in the jelly her family uses pretty much every morning.

“Relax, Princess.” Eddie chuckled, putting the two fingers in his mouth to lick it off. Glancing over at Chrissy’s exposed pussy, still puffy and aroused. He looked her in the eyes and without warning, dropped his boxers to the ground, wrapping his fist over his hardened cock, and massaged the precum around the pink tip. Chrissy’s breath hitched and she bit her lip in arousal. There he was, Eddie Munson. Completely naked in her kitchen.

Eddie stuck two of his fingers with is free hand back in to the jar that was now on the counter. While his one hand pumped up and down his length, he took his other hand with two fingers coated in grape jelly and held them in front of Chrissy’s lips.

“It’s good, have some.” He purred. Chrissy then sucked in his fingers, cleaning all the jelly off. Eddie groaned at the sensation as he continued playing with himself. After his fingers were cleaned off from her mouth, Eddie grabbed each of the other condiments; chocolate in one hand, honey in the other, and proceeded to squirt both toppings at the same time directly on to her chest, across both breasts.

“Eddie!” Chrissy yelped again, this time more excited and less concerned as the sugary sauces oozed their way over her pert nipples and down towards her stomach. After decorating her body in a sweet sticky mess, Eddie began jerking off his hardened cock again and leaned in to whisper in Chrissy’s ear.

“You look good enough to eat baby, and I’m so fucking hungry.” He growled. Chrissy’s heart began to beat faster and her chest began heaving. With the addition of a little saliva from his own mouth, Eddie slicked his prick and lined it up to her entrance. With the burst of extreme arousal in her chest, Chrissy unexpectedly directed him with velvet in her voice;

“Well, breakfast is ready.”

“Sweet Jesus,” Eddie breathted and pushed his needy cock into her heat and immediately began fucking her silly. Chrissy instantly became a moaning mess on the countertop, throwing her head back. Eddie drank in every cry. Last night the sex was amazing and Chrissy made such sweet, sweet sounds but this was honestly pornographic. This was a new level of unraveled Eddie has ever seen of his darling little cheerleader before.

Thrusting his hips in and out of her, Eddie began lapping up his mess on her body by first suckling chocolate sauce off one her hard nipples. The sound of skin slapping on skin echoed in the kitchen. He switched to the other nipple, drool mixed with honey and chocolate dripping down his chin.

“Ohhh Eddie! Ahh! Ah! Eddieeeee!” Chrissy cried over and over again. God, her moans were so delicious.

“Such a yummy little treat you are for me baby,” Eddie panted, “such a dirty little baby, such a sticky little mess.”

Chrissy was moaning and screaming so loud at this point that Eddie was fairly certain if the neighbors weren’t awake, they were now.

Eddie continued to lean in every so often to lick up more of the sweetness coating Chrissy’s heaving breasts and tummy while he continued to fuck her senseless. He looked up at her face, seeing how unraveled she was so beyond cock drunk. He pulled out and the sudden emptiness made Chrissy whimper pathetically. He grabbed her waist and pulled her off the counter and flipped her around so now she was leaning on the marble top with her dripping cunt facing his direction. He thrust into her once again and Chrissy let out a loud moan of relief. Her sticky tits bounced against the cabinets below and his ball sack slapped into her clit a he continued driving his thick cock into her heat. He pressed loving kisses onto her back before leaning in to bite into her neck. Along with the savory bites, Chrissy felt his guitar pick necklace that hung around his neck dancing across her back.

“Ah, s-shit baby doll,” Eddie growled, “I can’t believe your pussy is so tight still even after last night.” Chrissy kept moaning and crying as Eddie reached to the counter and grabbed the spatula he used to serve the French toast earlier.

“You remember when I spanked you last night, Princess?” Eddie asked rubbing one of Chrissy’s tight little ass cheeks lovingly.

“Mhm…” Chrissy moaned, nodding her head, adjusting her hold on the counter, continuing to brace herself.

“This might sting a little more than my hand, but I think you’re gonna like it. If it hurts too much you can tell me to stop okay? And if it gets too red on that sweet little tush, I can always put some ice cream on it later.” He purred, maintaining his loving pets on her backside.

“O-Okay” Chrissy choked out as she continued to be fucked relentlessly.

“Ready?” Eddie warned with a grin across his face.

“Y-yes, E-Eddie.”

Suddenly, Eddie laid a nice whack of the spatula across the meat of her one ass cheek and Chrissy yelped.

“Aah!” She yelped. Eddie bit his lip and groaned at the sight of her red little bottom.

“How was that, sweet girl?” Eddie asked darkly, rubbing the new warm red spot. As Chrissy learned more kinks from Eddie, the more corrupted her innocent little mind became.

“More…again.” Chrissy directed, out of breath. Eddie was stunned to the point he almost paused on the fucking.

“Yeah, you liked that?” Eddie grinned, keeping his hips at a slower, steady pace so he can focus on Chrissy’s response.

“Yeaahh, i-it felt good, I-I need more.” She stammered.

“Well if you want more, you need to ask nicely, sweetheart.” Eddie smirked giving her bottom a light little tap of encouragement.

She was so blissed out and horny at this point that the next thing that came out of her lips surprised the both of them.

“Please, please, fuck daddy, more!” she immediately covered her mouth in pure embarrassment. Not only did she finally say ‘fuck’, she called Eddie Munson ‘daddy’.

“Holy sweet fucking shit.” Eddie blurted out. He slowed his hips more for a second to contemplate what on Earth just happened. “Daddy? Princess? Did I hear that filthy little mouth correctly?”

Chrissy’s cheeks were cherry red at this point. “Oh…no…I-I” She began trying to cover up what she just said.

“Shhhh…no, no baby, its fine,” Eddie cooed, “I have just never been called ‘Daddy’ before.” There was a pause, then Eddie leaned in to whisper in her ear;

“And I fucking love it.” He growled possessively and another smack of the spatula came cracking down on her perfect ass. Eddie then began pounding into her once again. The filthy moans out of Chrissy’s mouth returned.

“Are you daddy’s naughty princess?” Eddie asked teasingly, laying another smack but to the other ass cheek this time. “Using the word ‘fuck’ in this good Christian household?” He grinned devilishly.

“Aaahhh, fuuuckk!” Chrissy cried, the profanities just bubbling out of her now that the first instance of the word is now out of the way. “Spank me again, daddy, spank me pleaseee!”

“Awhhh such a good girl, asking so nicely for such a dirty thing.” Eddie cooed, hitting her again, the plastic making a beautiful ‘whack’ sound that went straight to his cock. He dropped the spatula to the floor and immediately reached in to circle her puffy clit with his fingers.

“Ready to cum for daddy, sweet girl? Is my princess gonna cum all over my cock?” Eddie purred, toying with her sensitive bundle of nerves. “If you cum, I promise to fill this pussy up with my cream, like a sweet little breakfast pastry.”

That’s all Chrissy needed to send her over the edge.

“A-aaahh! Oh god! Eddie! Eddie MUNSON!” She cried, emphasis on the last name, loud enough for the neighbors to now know for sure who the culprit of the most satisfied woman in the world is. Her inner walls fluttered around his thick cock, making Eddie chase her orgasm with his own.

“Aahh! Fuck, baby…” He groaned, spilling his white, thick seed into her. As the ropes of cum ejecting from his tip slowed to a stop, so did his movements. After pulling out, Eddie held Chrissy in place as he bent down to lick a stripe up from her sensitive, puffy clit, to her used opening, up to her tight little asshole, collecting his sticky, dripping ejaculate on his fat tongue.

“E-Eddieeeee.” Chrissy shivered, over-sensitive from too much stimulation.

“Just needed a taste of my masterpiece.” Eddie purred, wiping the excess cum dripping down his chin with the back of his hand. He stood up as he helped Chrissy stand up straight, so he can gently turn her around to capture her mouth in a passionate kiss. Chrissy tasted his salty seed on his lips as she hummed into the kiss. Their bodies pressed together and some of the chocolate and honey left over on Chrissy from before transferred over to Eddie’s sweat-coated abdomen.

“We’re so dirty” Chrissy giggled into his lips, giving him another kiss. Eddie paused to brush up Chrissy’s sweaty bangs to give her a tender kiss on the forehead.

“I think YOU’RE the dirty one, princess.” Eddie chuckled looking down at her messy, naked body. “So…Daddy, huh?” He laughed.

Chrissy tried hiding herself in his arms, covering her face and blushing. “Oh my goddd, stoooppp…” she whined.

“Where were you hiding that last night?” Eddie joked, prying her hands away from her face.

“I dunno…” Chrissy laughed trying to fight him. “Come’on, Eddie, I’m so sticky, I need to shower.” She whined trying to change the subject.

“We can go shower, as long as you promise to call me Daddy next time.” He winked.

“Okaayy fine.” She giggled, peering over at the forgotten French toast on the counter. Eddie noticed and said,

“It’s okay baby, let’s go get cleaned up and you can finish your real breakfast, okay?” He kissed her on the cheek and ushered her upstairs so he can get his dirty girl all cleaned up.

#Eddie munson #eddie my beloved #hellcheer #eddissy #eddie munson smut #eddie x chrissy #chrissy x eddie #chrissy cunningham #Eddie Munson is a dirty boy #eddie munson fanfic #hellcheer fanfic

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missevelynpierce · 3 months

Text

The Brat.

I met him in high school so many years ago. He was popular and was kind of that classic “bad boy” out of an ‘80s movie. Think of James Spader��s character from Pretty In Pink. He was popular and would never be seen with someone like me. I was kind of like Molly Ringwald’s character. A bit nerdy and quirky and definitely not popular. He was kind of a dick, but he was hot - dark hair, dark eyes, and I sensed this other darkness in his energy that ignited something in me. He was in with the theater geeks and he was also a writer; he was the only one I knew that used a refillable Parker pen. I seem to remember these details.

An interlude in college where I got to be a bit of a bitch to him turned the tables and felt good. I was waiting for the bus and he complimented my pedicure. He asked if I had some time to hang out and I essentially rejected him. I still remember the shade of nail polish I was wearing from that day. The whole ride home I was a little flushed. And there’s the almost interlude a few years later when his book was published and I almost went to a reading at a local bookstore. I had my first aura induced migraine on my way there, so I went home.

A few years later, through the magic of social media, he connected to me as all the high school friends that were long forgotten all washed ashore in the digital realm.

He sent a message. I was living with an ex at the time in a relationship that was falling apart. He commented on my feet and confessed his years-long crush on me and never had the nerve to say anything about it. This made me really happy, and we continued to talk. The conversations getting increasingly explicit. One day, we made plans to meet up at a local bar and he called me and asked if I could just go up to his apartment so he could suck on my toes. Nope. I wasn’t going to do that. He got pissy and whiny and I was more concerned about safety - I hadn’t actually seen him since college, and it wasn’t my nature to just go to someone’s place. I craved authentic connection and didn’t want to be his kink dispenser.

I got annoyed and unfriended him. A couple of more years would go by before it would really begin.

I was in another relationship, and now he moved far away, and we picked right back up. There's something about physical distance that allows one to go harder and deeper when expressing desires. He told me the things that he wanted me to do to him. I told him some early childhood stories that involved feet, and he had similar experiences. We would soon call each other brother and sister. The conversations got even more explicit and I would be getting pedicures weekly, sending him foot pics, buying new shoes and sending video clips of me putting them on. I would get a thrill teasing him relentlessly. I had a boyfriend at the time and mastered the art of discretion and would thrill at rubbing myself thinking of the brat as the boyfriend snored beside me.

Soon, our conversations would run late into the night. He’d soon offer himself as a slave to me and tell me the stories of his earlier experiences as a slave. He had girlfriends who beat him and he loved it, he once had a Domme who was a well-known professor, a few pro-Dommes, and others from the club scene that he was gladly a human carpet for. He told me that it’s very rare to find someone with the raw energy and the natural propensity for kink that I have. That I know it’s not about pure impact; that the power of wordplay and the intuitive understanding of power dynamics and exchange is what makes me authentic.

And this is what truly set me on my path.

I would continue playing with the boyfriend I had at the time, and the physical kink that that relationship already had got amplified. I felt myself claim my power and then realized that I deserved a hell of a lot better than someone who was unemployed and who would never satisfy my needs. I dumped him then booked a flight to visit the brat. After 7 years of maintaining an online long distance relationship, I would finally get the nerve to play with him in person. It had to happen. There was no stopping this.

This was my rebirth.

This was my transformation.

When he knocked on my door, I hugged him. Tight. And kissed him, long.

We just talked for hours, reminiscing and actually getting to spend time with each other, because despite all the years, we haven’t had any true conversations. It felt so good to talk and to feel understood. The familiarity and all the connections with people and places we grew up with. It was nice to share stories and connect.

And once night fell, I would make him clean my sand crusted sandals and would press my feet into his face. He’d get super bratty and I’d slap him and spit on him, and all those things, until I finally sat on his face smothering him, making him eat my ass and my pussy. I was on the verge of climax and then he said:

“I dare you to piss on me.” Something about the dare, just did something to me. I grabbed him, went to the bathroom, commanded him to lay down in the shower, and then released all over him. I felt electricity everywhere out of every nerve ending in my body. It was intense, powerful, and I knew I was never going to be the same.

This was only the beginning. And nearly 20 years later, he still frustrates the shit out of me, and despite time and distance, he always returns.

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toadallytickles · 2 years

Note

Hello there I hope all is well,this is my first time sending in a question I’m fairly new to tumblr,I have a blog but I don’t post on it at all,I like stuff but that’s about it,I’m not new to the tk community and I’ve been looking around for a while,I’ve never done a session in real life and I know that one of the key things in this community is safety ! And of course that is so important!! ..now since I don’t post at all my account can legit seem suspicious since I follow tk blogs and I just look like some kind of person who stalks these accounts ! i really want to interact more and post so people feel comfortable with me to potentially to meet ups but idk what to post? like what can I do so I seem more approachable in this community? Pls any advice by you or your followers would genuinely be so much appreciated !! Thank u

Hello! Thank you for sharing this ask!

It’s totally fine to have a lurker account, there are a lot out there, though they are less approachable and more likely to be ignored, blocked, not welcomed in group chats and Discord Servers.

Safety is very important in community and in play! A lot of members join these online kink communities to seek safety and community, to make friends and play partners, or even find a romantic partner- though that genuine friendship and connection has to be there first. These members are real humans with feelings and boundaries, and tickling is an intimate thing they want to indulge in with genuine people. Being safe includes meeting up with someone who you are comfortable with and trust. No one wants to be treated like a kink dispenser or just their role in play. Treating people like kink dispensers includes tickle talking immediately in the DMs, demanding more content, crossing boundaries for your own selfish needs, and using honorifics and names they never consented to- and this all means you are unable to understand consent and should not be playing with anyone.

You don’t want to SEEM more approachable, you NEED to be more approachable! It’s very easy for members to pick up someone’s true intentions. There are no shortcuts for making genuine connections and relationships. If you really want to be involved, you have to be involved!

Decorate your profile! Get rid of the default icon and header- those can earn an instant block. Add your own header, a profile picture, and a description! The description is the text under the icon and header; users usually put their (nick)name, age, gender, sexuality, roles, and links here as a little ‘about me.’

❗️Put your age on your page. This is super important when interacting in a kink community. Most users prefer a number age. Some users accept a birth year or “Adult.” Though that or nothing can get blocked.

Add a pinned post! Most users use the pinned post feature as their ‘about me.’ This is where you share a bit more about yourself, how you like to interact in the community, your boundaries, interests, and what you’re looking for!

❗️Please read people’s pinned posts! They are specifically written to be read and respected! Users are purposely putting themselves out there to make connections and relationships! Pinned posts also help you determine if you’re interested or compatible with a user!

Blog and reblog your interests! Your blog can just be a kink blog if you choose! Some members like to reblog their vanilla interests or memes they like! A lot of people enjoy tag reading too if you’d like to add extra comments in the tags! This can help people get to know you, and they may approach you with a similar interest to start a conversation with you! Just be yourself and those meant for you will gravitate towards you!

Be patient. This is not an overnight change. You will have to put effort and energy getting involved in the community and making connections. Both in-person and online communities are welcoming of new members, though can be hesitant at first as they have to see if you’re authentic and genuine. You can’t just attend one event and then dip out when it didn’t go your way. You have to keep going, getting involved, and people will notice your presence and get to know you little by little overtime. It takes time to build authentic, intimate relationships, and it’s totally worth the wait and energy spent. The reason we made friends in school was because we were seeing the same people daily; the same applies here- keep attending events, meeting people and getting involved.

Join a gathering or community Discord Server. Discord is great for getting to know people as all conversations are spectated on, you get to know more than one person at a time, and you can join in on audio and video calls! The tickle gathering Discord Servers are great as everyone is a verified adult, and all of them but NEST only welcome vetted members. This can help you get in touch with in-person players with play experience, and can help you get vetted in turn! Some Tumblr users have created their own community Discord Servers!

Attend local in-person kink events! You can use Fetlife to find local events, like munches and play parties! Some people have tickling as an interest, or as Clay and I have discovered in our local scene, people can develop that interest if you’re willing to talk about it~.

Attend a tickle gathering! These are play-party-like events where tickle kinksters come together to hang out, reunite with friends and partners, and play! Play is not guaranteed, though there are people who do pick-up play after some conversation!

Take inspiration from other blogs! Are there any blogs that you enjoy and gravitate towards? Take inspiration from their setup and how they run their blog! Something they’re doing makes them interesting and approachable to you!

Have play references; both good and bad. When playing with someone new, it’s safe to ask who they’ve played with in the past and how those sessions went. It’s also safe to talk to those past play partners before playing with them! Watching them play publicly at a play event is a safe practice too! When you’re new to play, you may not have references, and that’s okay! Be sure to only play with someone you’re comfortable with, and take things slow. Do not jump or rush into play or new activities; build up your knowledge and rapport.

Tips on joining the Tumblr community

How to approach people in the community

NEST Discord Server

Find and attend tickle events!

#my posts #answered #ask #anon #kink resource #tickling community #tickle community #tickles #text

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firefly-in-darkness · 3 years

Text

Go For Broke

Pairing → Ransom Drysdale x Reader

Characters → Brief mentions of Knives Out characters (maybe?)

Summary → A little bet has big consequences.

Word Count → 2.7k

Warnings → 18+, Swearing, Smut, Angst

Betas → @kalesrebellion // all mistakes are my own.

Prompts → Bee's 7K of the Week Challenge; Monday - Ransom Drysdale, Tuesday - Smangst, Friday - Work Function, Saturday - The Dating Bet, (a blink of a praise kink for Sunday).

AFG2021 Square Fill→ "I said 'be sexy', not be a fucking blowfish" @anyfandomgoesbingo

A/N → As I mentioned above, this is for @negans-lucille-tblr writing challenge - congrats on 7k baby!! (I even kept it under 3k for you it wasn't going to be!) This is my first time writing for Ransom, and it doesn't have any connection to Knives Out, it's an AU.

As always, comments and reblogs are appreciated💕

Firefly’s Masterlist

You carried two steaming mugs of coffee and nudged the ajar door open with your foot to Ransom’s office. He had leant back on the large leather chair and was taking in the views through the floor to ceiling windows.

He spun round in his chair and you were hit with the scent of his cologne, it had your stomach fluttering with butterflies. His legs parted wide, and the sight was something to behold; the thickness of his thighs and the way his large hand rubbed the top of one.

It was never going to happen between you two. He was Ransom Drysdale, a well-known playboy and skirt chaser. And you, you were his assistant.

He wasn’t the type of man you were after. You wanted someone permanent, someone, that wasn’t just a fuck buddy. But at least you got a little something for the spank bank every now and then.

“Like what you see?” You were caught red-handed by his crystal blue eyes and the lopsided smirk that you adored.

You brought the iPad in front of him to life, “This is your schedule for today. Harlan said that he’s rescheduled the board meeting with Walt to next week so we can relax a little bit. Said there was something to do with taking a risk or gamble?”

Ransom’s head snapped up, and his tongue darted out across his lip, a nervous tick that you’d long ago discovered. You felt a warmth bloom at your core and tried to hide the way your thighs nestled together to ease the growing heat.

Ransom scooted backwards in his chair and announced, “I need to get out of here.”

“You’ve just arrived, you can’t play hooky, you’re the boss.” You protested.

“That’s exactly why I can,” Ransom asserted and pulled his coat back on. “Let’s get lunch at that diner we went to last month. It’s quiet and nobody knows me there.”

You had become used to the whirlwind that Ransom brought with him the second he entered a room, but this was different. He seemed on edge rather than angry and you weren’t sure what had happened in the ten minutes you were away making a coffee.

“But I just made us coffee.” You pouted at him; he knew that you needed that delicious nectar.

“I’m buying lunch now get your coat,” Ransom demanded.

You rolled your eyes and did what you were told, much to your chagrin.

Ransom had driven like a mad man in his classic beamer to get you to Ruby’s Diner in record time. You scolded him once or twice when he just missed the red lights. But he didn’t seem to relax like he usually did when he entered.

All was forgiven when the waitress placed two steaming plates of burgers and milkshakes on the table. You were in heaven and thanked the waitress as you dunked a chip in the sauce.

“What is wrong with you today?” You asked.

“What are you talking about? I’m just being my usual self.” Ransom shook his head and threw the raggedy napkin across the table away from him.

You remained silent and continued to eat, allowing him to stew over whatever it was that was eating at him. It didn’t take you long to demolish your lunch, but Ransom still hadn’t touched his food. All he had done since you told him off was chew on his lip and glared at the sugar dispenser.

“Okay, seriously, you need to start talking.” You challenged.

He sighed and dragged a hand down his face, “Okay, but you can’t freak out.”

“What did you do?” Your eyes went wide as your mind ran wild with all the crazy things that he could possibly do in the last twenty-four hours.

Ransom looked up at you and laughed, “I can’t take you seriously right now.”

“What?” You frowned, feeling a mixture of confusion painted across your features.

His hand gripped your chin and his thumb swiped away at the sauce that you’d long forgotten. The heat on your cheeks grew tenfold and you coughed when he hadn’t removed his hand from your jaw.

“Ah yeah sorry. Sauce.” He stammered.

You smirked, you’d never seen him this worked up before, what had gotten into him, “So?”

“Okay, don’t fucking freak out on me but someone in the office wanted to make a bet with me. About you.”

You stared at him, all of your thoughts emptied out into the diner, “I’m sorry, what? I think you need to say a bit more than that.”

Ransom explained how one of your co-workers approached him and placed a bet that he wouldn’t be able to bed you before the corporate summer party.

“Who the fuck was it?” You growled; hands clenched on the edge of the seat.

“I’m not telling, I don’t want you to start a fight. You’re my favourite pers-assistant.” Ransom shook his head and began to nibble on the fries. His face screwed up at the realisation they were cold.

“Hold on. You agreed, didn’t you?” Your heart raced.

“I did. I have a reputation to uphold.” He smirked, “and was worth it, you should see your face right now.”

You scowled harder, “how much was the bet?”

“Ten thousand.” He shrugged.

“Fuckin’ hell Ransom, you’re cocksure, aren’t you?” You laughed at him, “why did you accept it?”

“That’s loose change to me.” Ransom shrugged and brought the replaced milkshake to his lips, tongue curling around the straw.

“Fine, I’ll do it. But I want half.” You explained, mirroring his action with your own milkshake.

Ransom choked on his drink and quickly rushed out his words, “you what?”

“We aren’t having sex, Ransom.” You rolled your eyes and placed the drink down, “If they ask, I’ll just say we did. It keeps your reputation intact. No harm, no foul.”

“They want proof.” He raises his eyebrow.

“Fuck sake, okay. Come over to mine tomorrow night and we’ll take some fake dirty pictures.” Without waiting for a response, you stepped out of the booth, “Now, I do have some work to do and funnily enough, so do you.”

“Anyone would think you were the boss.” Ransom playfully sulked and placed some money on the table.

“I might as well be.” You gestured towards the door, “Move it.”

The black baby doll was just perfect for this photo session. It was a little see-through, but your modesty was covered with the lace detailing skimming the tops of your thighs. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach, but you had to get this over with sooner or later. With one final look in the mirror, you steeled your nerves and opened the bathroom door and slowly walked to your bedroom.

“Hello,” You anxiously stuttered, “Where do you want me?”

Ransom’s eyes darkened at the sight of you, his large hands rubbing along his thick thighs, just the way you had admired yesterday. You internally berated yourself, this wasn’t sex. It was all fake. It was an easy win for you both - Ransom kept his reputation and you got a nice little pot of gold for a rainy day, or week.

“Just lay down on the bed and look sexy.” He commented, unhelpfully.

You nodded and shuffled around until you found a comfortable position, with your arms draped above you. It didn’t feel sexy, it felt awkward and uncomfortable. Why is this so hard? You took a deep breath and tried to relax your body and turned to face Ransom. He’d moved the left side of the bed, his phone in hand ready to take the shot.

“Ready?” Ransom asked, and you thought you saw a sparkle of sincerity in his eyes with his one worded question.

“Yes,” you said and gave him your best pout and ‘fuck me’ eyes.

“I said ‘be sexy’, not be a fucking blowfish.” Ransom snapped.

You bolted up from your position, kneeling on the edge of the bed to get back on his level but it was no use, the man was still towering over you, “I’m trying, I’m not exactly in the mood.”

Ransom raised his brow from above, and you hadn’t quite realised how close you were to him, his stomach mere inches from your chest. The lack of response grated on you, his face was irritating, and you were ready to shove the five grand up his ass.

“Actually, this could work.” Ransom pulled off his shirt and revealed the tight muscles. Your anger morphed into desire; you wanted to reach forward and touch him but kept your hands refrained at your sides. “Now, look up at me and bite your lip.”

“Perfect.” He smiled down at you and cupped your face. His thumb stroked the apple of your cheek and paired with his words; a shiver ran down your spine.

Instinctively, you bit down your lip and unbuckled his belt to the sound of the camera shutter. Hands traced Ransom’s abdomen and he sucked in a breath as you stroked a sensitive spot.

“Sorry,” you mumbled and looked up at him, “maybe we should have some photos where your face is in it too?”

Ransom didn’t need to be asked twice, he pulled down his chinos and exposed his thick muscular thighs. Your mouth watered and warmth bloomed in your tummy at the sight of the black Calvin Klein’s hugging his groin.

You rearranged your position to lie down amongst the sheets while Ransom crawled onto the bed to kneel between your legs. His hand cupped under your knee and hoisted one of them up to his hip.

“You might need to take this one,” he handed the phone to you.

Just as you went to take the photograph, Ransom’s other hand slid underneath the baby doll. It sent another wave of pleasure through your body. His smooth hands stooped just beneath your breast and it almost made you whimper. Almost.

With an attempt to gather your bearings, you decided to focus on his phone and snap a few pictures of this new position. But seeing those little images captured and whizz into the corner made you want more. There was no point denying it as you felt the tell-tale signs of your arousal between your legs. But did Ransom want it?

Ransom moved the sheer material up and lifted your leg higher, over his shoulder. Before you could ask what, he was doing, his body dipped down, his lips so close to pressing against your stomach. Oh god. Your body instantly betrayed you as your hand went straight into his messy short locks eliciting a deep groan from Ransom. His hot breath fanned across your skin, goosebumps raising in its flow.

You took some more pictures, feeling the wetness pooling in your panties, the heat growing and growing up your body. Ransom returned to kneeling and you noticed the prominent bulge in his pants, and you finally got your answer. He did want it.

A mischievous smirk replaced the smile on your lips, “you’ll want to take these.”

You sat up and turned around so that you were kneeling in front of him and giving a great view of your behind. Ransom couldn’t restrain himself, his hands instantly gripped at your hips and pulling you back towards him. He growled and you whimpered as he rutted between your cheeks.

“Ransom, the photos?” You sang out and smirked into the pillow.

“Oh yeah, right.” Ransom spluttered and began to take the photographs from this new position then you heard the soft thud of the phone dropping onto the mattress, “hang on a minute.”

Gracefully, he spun you around and managed to get underneath you to seat you just above his hips. You were entranced by the dark lust-filled eyes that studied your body, following the hands that skimmed along your waist.

His touch sent sparks across the exposed skin of your chest, his fingers toying with the lace trim as they descended the plunging neckline and over your breasts. You rocked against his stomach, giving you just a little bit of pleasure from the friction at your core.

Ransom bolted upright, one arm wrapping around you while his other hand brought you closer until his mouth met yours. The kiss was heated, it pulled you deeper into the need for more, to have him deep inside of you. Ransom’s tongue swiped along your bottom lip, demanding access and you obliged without hesitation.

You’d only thought of him, like this, late at night and alone. It was nothing compared to your wildest fantasies to have him kissing you like this or to feel him hard beneath you. You squirmed to feel him better, but he broke the kiss.

“Sorry,” He panted.

Your stomach plummeted at the thought of him regretting what had barely started, “For what?”

“I shouldn’t have,” Ransom avoided eye contact and ran his fingers through his hair, messing it up even more than you already had done, “we just got carried away.”

“Ransom, if you don’t fuck me right now, I will kick you out.” You raised your eyebrow in a challenge.

He didn’t need to be told twice.

Chatter and laughter filled the gaps of the song blasting through the speakers set up around the roof terrace. The large projector screen reeled through photographs of colleagues, in and out of work, successes in the tabloids and social media. Pool water splashed over the edges with each dive-bomb or flirtatious swish between colleagues. You watched on behind the sunglasses and relished in the sunshine beating down. It was rare to have such perfect weather and you wanted to soak up as much of the rays as you could.

The moment you spotted Ransom talking to a few people over at the bar, you thought now would be the best time to approach him. It had been a few hours since you arrived, and you only last saw him the morning before, and a few weeks since that first night. You both wanted to take things slow, it wasn’t how you expected things to happen but neither of you regretted it.

The nearer you got to the bar, you suddenly felt like everyone’s eyes were on you. Side glances from the Marketing girls, a laugh, and a grimace from a few others. Then you saw Ransom rushing up to you but also looking behind.

Before he reached you, you spun around to the projector and saw a display of all the photos you and Ransom had taken that night. Your stomach dropped, nausea taking over until you were about to collapse on the floor.

Hands gripped your shoulders, spinning you on the spot. You looked at the terrified gaze of Ransom. His lips were moving but your ears buzzed with the hum of blood pumping through. Unable to process what had happened, you tried to escape. To get away from the people that were staring, gawking, at you. At you and Ransom on the screen and then down to the pair by the bar.

“Please talk to me,” Ransom pleaded, “I didn’t know that’s what she was going to do.”

“Did you sleep with her?” You asked, your mind reeling with how this could be a vendetta against Ransom, and you’re caught in the crossfire.

Ransom’s eyes widened, “Yeah, probably a year ago.”

“You fuckin’ idiot. Get out of my way.” You tried to walk past him, but he blocked your path.

“Can I come with you?” He asked face paled.

You scowled, “No. Move.”

Ransom followed you, weaving between the crowds of sniggers and laughter. You could hear him pleading, almost begging for you to stop but you refused. You needed to get out of there and he was making it more difficult.

You skimmed the edge of the pool and Ransom grabbed your bicep, attempting to stop and turn you around. Without a second thought, you spun and shoved him. He fell backwards into the pool with a great splash. It only made you feel good for a split second until he resurfaced.

“Consider this my notice, I quit.” You turned on your heel and left the party, your job and Ransom behind.

The End.

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#Ransom Drysdale x Reader #Ransom Drysdale #Ransom Drysdale Fic #Ransom Drysdale Fanfiction #Ransom Drysdale Fanfic

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bonny-kookoo · 4 years

Text

Sweet Girl [J.JK x Reader]🔞🌼☁️

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Smut, angst because I like to cry myself to sleep

Warnings: dom/sub dynamics, dom!jungkook, sub!Reader, size kink is still strong, mild dd/lg themes, praise kink, long haired jungkook because yes that needs to be a warning, strength kink, they fuck in the kitchen smh

Jungkook and you are in a healthy relationship, managing all those things couples have to manage; building an IKEA bed, having your first fight, or arguing who should do the laundry this time. Apart from that, your life inside your bedroom has been pretty active as well, leaving Jungkook more satisfied than ever. He's not a horny teenager anymore after all, trying not to bust a nut just because he got a glimpse of your nipples through your rather thin shirt- yet you always manage to be so unbelievably sinful, he can't help but snatch a taste every now and then. After all, you're his- he's simply reminding you.

This is part of the 'Good Girl'-Universe!

Good Girl || Sweet Girl || Smart Girl || Brave Girl

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Jeon Jungkook and you loved to tease each other. From the way he would rub his sweat-soaked hair all over the crook of your neck playfully after his workout just to rile you up, just to exclaim happily that you love him too much to actually be serious when you yell that he's disgusting. And he's right- even if he's exhausting to be around sometimes with his seemingly endless energy (seriously, you're convinced at this point that he's the human embodiment of the energizer bunny), or how he could sometimes forget that you're not as tough as his other male friends that he was regularly around. You catch yourself laughing inside yourself every time you turn into a crybaby and tear up when a comment gets under your skin, because his entire body changes posture- every time he notices you getting hurt because he's too rough while playfighting, or when he again tells you you could just get your chubby butt up and work out with him, completely ignoring the fact that he knows its a very sensitive topic for you; he literally turns into a complete child who just got asked to explain rocket science. Jungkook isn't used to handle something as fragile as a girl- plus, you play along and usually brush off most things so easily, that he simply sometimes forgets that you actually have weak points.

One of these moments occured early on in your relationship; it was a silly mistake on his side really. When Taehyung asked him straight up if he was dating you, you didn't expect a huge love proposal; Jungkook wasn't like that. But a simple yes would've been okay as well- yet Jungkook being the cocky bastard he was, simply made a comment along the lines of 'nah, I'm just screwing her.' It was meant as a joke really, and it took him a good thirty seconds to notice your demeanor changing. Deep inside you, you knew he didn't mean it like that, yet it still hit you hard, especially considering his past hobby of trying to be the biggest manwhore around. When he'd went after you just when you had told him you'd be using the bathroom and not returning after a good ten minutes, he'd bursted into the womans bathrooms just in time to see you trying to wipe away your tears. His face had been priceless really now that you thought about it; before that moment you always had a hard time imagining that 'kicked puppy look' people always talked about- he didn't look like you just kicked him, but full on sucker punched his prized playstation out of orbit just for a laugh. He was totally unprepared and clearly had no idea what to do in that moment, never having needed to deal with tears in that way- and your face had hit him especially hard, considering how it was his fault at that. Considering how lost he really was he dealt with it quite sweetly, yet in a typical Jungkook fashion- uncaring of other woman and girls trying to get into the bathroom, he'd grabbed a considerable amount of tissue paper from the dispenser next to the sink you were standing in front of, promptly sitting you on top of it to properly have you at eye-level with him to wipe away your tears and smeared make up, telling you how you looked better without it anyways, and how sorry he was for being an utter asshole and idiot at the same time. You honestly started laughing at that. Not necessarily his comment even though it was true, but his extremely concentrated face, as if he was restoring an ancient artwork or something the likes of that. He audibly sighed at that, glad to know you didn't hate him. Because that was his innermost fear; you probably seeing the dickbag he thought he was underneath and leaving him for good. Not that he'd tell you that. You knew of that fear though.

Needless to say, it wasn't the only thing that happened between you both. Yet you've always overcome these things with ease, both of you growing surprisingly mature about arguments as time went on. Jungkook changed you as well- you were a wallflower before, and if you were honest, you kind of still were. But you were carrying yourself with a newfound confidence because of his daily praises- turning heads every now and then simply because you actually liked yourself these days. And Jungkook noticed as well- always commenting on how he didn't know if he liked the change or not, considering how much attention you now got everywhere you both went. You simply countered that with a simple comment along the lines of 'Now you know how I feel', because he was glowing up every month it seemed. Yet he stayed true to his words back then to you; he really did only have eyes for you anymore.

What really did piss him off was just how innocent you could be sometimes. It had him fuming how oblivious you could seem to others shamelessly flirting with you, yet he knew that he loved that about you just as much. The fact that you would willingly (and happily of course) let him corrupt you over and over again fuled his pride to no ends, making him feel like he was your knight in shining armor, even if it sounded sappy. Right now however he could really use some more patience, because he was sure his own amount was slowly running out. When he came back home, he didn't really have any plans, except for the one you had already agreed on. You both wanted to cook something tonight, nothing fancy, simply craving some kind of 'bonding time' as you called it, even though he had immediately told you this could be done in a different way, to which you blushed. He loved making you embarrassed, almost craving the way your flustered cheeks would turn into a beautiful red shade.

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He knew those plans would change however as soon as he spotted you on the couch in his living room. That itself wasn't something new since you lived here, but the attire you chose was rather.. unfair. He was supposed to keep it in his pants tonight, yet he could already feel himself rising against the fabric of his sweatpants at the view of you in a black shirt of his, oversized on your way smaller body. Yet that exactly did it- because that was all you wore, apart from your flimsy pair of pastel blue lace rimmed panties. You raised your head from out of your book and he was a goner as soon as he saw those eyes.

"Babydoll you're being really unfair right now." He groaned as he sat down on the couch, making you bounce a bit next to him. You looked at him confused, his patience snapping. Maybe it was his frustration that had filled up his mind during the day, or simply his habit of taking what he wanted when he wanted it, but soon enough you found yourself on his lap, your legs on either side of his. His hands were fast to reach under your, or more so his shirt, growling when he felt your bare breasts underneath his fingers. You really were asking for it.

Stop. Mission abort. Cancel all open tasks. Shutdown, emergency-

With a sigh the young boy detached himself from you, running a hand through his hair rather agressively. Even though he would usually not feel too bad about his actions, especially with you, considering he felt rather safe and comfortable around you, he had to remember the small argument you both had the night prior. It really hadn't even been an argument if he was being honest, and it was basically all on him that night, yet he felt like he needed to second-guess his actions now. It had been a simple question really, admittedly a fair one at that, however, it also was one he rather feared answering. Yes, Jeon Jungkook was actually scared of a mere question.

'Why won't you kiss me?'

Well, yeah. Why wouldn't he? To answer that would mean to expose himself, to open himself up, to be vulnerable- and even though he knew deep down that you would never use anything against him in an almost predatory meanor others in the past had, he couldn't shake the feeling off. The fear, of what he couldn't tell. He simply waved you off, telling you that you both didn't need those sappy gestures, and you had simply nodded, accepting that, even though he knew that you felt hurt by his answer. Hell, he felt hurt by his own answer. And what had hurt him even more was your reaction to it; somehow he wanted you to be offended, to openly dig at his wounds, to scratch at his scars and make him spill his blood into your hands. He didn't want you to feel like he only loved you physically, like he only wanted to own your body, because he craved so much more than your touchable form. He wanted to build his home into your very soul, wanted to surround himself with your voice and live in your very heartbeat- yet it didn't matter how romantic and oh-so poetic his own thoughts could be. It didn't matter at all if he couldn't say it.

He looked at you, internally cringing at the way you looked at him, utterly confused. You'd gotten so used to him using you that it made his own saliva taste bitter, making him crinkle his brows a little. "I-" He started, yet took a deep breath, his eyes aimlessly dancing over the plush carpet, analyzing the various shades of light brown it presented to him. Right now he hated it. Hated how it made his apartment, your apartment feel like home. He hated how it did fit into the living room even though he'd complained about you buying it, arguing that you started to take over his life back then when you both didn't even date each other. He hated how he fell in love with it after he'd seen you lay on it with your phone in hand, the small white fan in the corner of the room softly blowing your hair and clothes during the summer. He hated how he remembered spilling his soda on it one day, freaking out because he knew even if he would cover it up you'd notice, you always noticed. Just like now. Because the hand you'd placed on his shoulder as a form of comfort had never felt so heavy on him, like a brick trying to force his entire back down. "M' sorry.." He simply grunted out, putting his head in his hands.

"What're you sorry for?" You had laughed a bit uneasy, and he hated the sound of it. He always pictured himself as the man who was oh-so protective of you, yet right now he'd never felt so small. "Is it about yesterday? You don't have to change Jungkookie, I don't mind-" Yet he had to shut you up, turning a bit to look at you with a face melted into a vision of being thrown side by side by your own thoughts. This was exactly the issue. You didn't mind- and he knew that you didn't even lie about that- it made everything so much worse.

The nickname, the way you said it, the way you meant it- it all just punched his guts even harder. Instead of answering he simply took your face in his hands, placing his lips onto yours with so much emotion you could feel them trembling. His kisses turned into more than simple pecks, they turned into desperate cries of confusion, of insecurity, of so many things you would've never associated Jungkook with. Slowly your bodies fell into place again, with him laying you down on your back, a pillow falling down and knocking a fork down from the small table, yet none of you cared about it in that moment. As soon as you reached for his belt he'd grabbed your hand, holding them with such care. "No no- I-" He said, switching between kissing and talking. "I want to- no, I need to make love to you, yeah?" You squeaked at his sudden movement when he'd picked you up, trying to carry you to the shared bedroom, yet aborting that mission as well by simply sitting you ontop of the kitchen counter, the marbled stone cold underneath your butt. You gasped into the open air, the way he'd just lifted you with such ease making you feel so small- in every good way possible. Yet even though this wasn't the first time making out in the kitchen, this was new- to both of you. He had no clue what to actually do, exploring new territory as well as you did in that moment, never having gone slow before. Yet he slowly eased into it, his arms leading his hands over your exposed skin, fingers softly squeezing the flesh of your thighs. His kisses started to wander, caressing your neck, yet even though his dominant side was starting to show the more comfortable he got with what he was doing, you noticed a slight difference in his demeanor. His arms weren't limiting your movement, weren't moving you around to his hearts content- even though you would never complain about that- they were around you, his hands on your back, bunching up the fabric of his shirt in his hands, then letting go just to repeat like a kneading cat. "You're so sweet, so so sweet, did I ever tell you that?" He whispered almost like a secret, and you felt like he was bewitching you in a weird way. "Wanna keep you all to myself, wanna hide you like a secret." He said lowly, almost growled, and you felt yourself slowly fall for his word with every sound he made. "But I also wanna show you everyone, wanna show everyone how lucky I am, how I got the prettiest and sweetest of them all." He said, hands wandering up his shirt you were wearing, running over your soft breasts, squeezing them softly and relishing in the way they felt under his fingertips. He always loved your skin, even though you'd complained before how you disliked the slight chub on your lower belly, or how your thighs were thicker than most girls your height. Yet he couldn't find anything wrong with it, loving the way it gave you such a soft vibe and feel. This was you, every little flaw that you were seeing he saw as another thing to love about you, as sappy as it sounded. "You're my good girl, my best girl.." He said before he started to move your already ruined panties to the side, his fingers exploring your heat. "My only girl." He said, making you mewl into his neck, hands now grabbing his shirt for a change. He made you shuffle a bit closer towards him, standing between your legs while his tattooed hand pushed two fingers inside you, reaching to make you feel good, yet never going the usual pace.

"Jungkoo-ah- Jungkookie please-!" You sighed, and he simply chuckled, kissing your neck, down to your collarbone where he playfully nipped at the skin, loving the sounds you were making. "No no no, I wanna go slow yeah? Wanna make love babydoll, we got time.." He said, and you shot him a pout, making him laugh. "Come on I'm trying to be romantic here!" He said, and you reached for his jeans again- making him move your hands away again. "Nuh-uh. Good girls are patient. You can wait right, pretty girl?" He said playfully, making you pout again. He couldn't help but comply with you. How could he not? He loved you. He really did. Fuck, he really, really did. Undoing his belt and letting his pants fall to his knees along with his underwear, he reached for your butt, making you shimmy even closer to him so he could swiftly enter you, making both of you gasp out both in anticipation and relief from your side for getting your way.

The simple view he had of your form speared on his cock was the sole reason he loved every position that made him look at you. The picture in front of him just was too presious yet sinful to be wasted. He wished he could take a picture of it actually, yet he decided against it, having heard his phone fall out of the back pocket of his jeans before, and he was kind of too terrified to see his screen cracked yet. He also couldn't really think about it, the way your walls engulfed him occupying his mind almost completely. His arms encaved you, holding you against him as close as possible, creating a safe haven for you and your mindset. You always slipped into some sort of headspace whenever his praise and affection got to a certain point- something that had terrified you at first, making you feel a bit embarrased as well- yet Jungkook had assured you that it was completely okay and normal, having googled it someday back when he'd been bored on his phone. It was actually quite endearing that your mind trusted him enough to slip into such a vulnerable state, his pride feeding off if it to no end.

He wanted to go slow, yet by the end of it his pace had quickened to his typical ruthless tempo, making you gasp out bursts of breath against his neck, hands clawing at his shoulder blades though the material of his shirt, grabbing onto him for dear life, while on your fast lane to release. When he came himself his breathing got erratic from oversensitivity, yet he ignored it to bring you over the edge as well, even making you ride it out to its fullest afterwards. When you slowly deflated against him, hands simply reaching out for his body, he softly cooed at you, completely enchanted by you in your post-orgasmic bliss. Suddenly he laughed, resting his head in the crook of your neck. "God, why am I like this?" He said, soft smile turning bitter. "Can't even be soft for one fucking time." Yet your hand softly ran through his now slightly damp locks, head turning to look at him with so much endearment he could cry- well, he actually felt his eyes start to sting, but he swallowed them down.

"You don't have to, Jungkookie." You softly said, and he wanted to argue. "Don't change. You're perfect just the way you are. I love you either way. Doesn't matter if you buy me roses or screw me in the kitchen. I take any love you give me." He suddenly laughed, and his eyes turned into sparkling half moons, his bunny smile almost blinding you.

"God I love you."

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"Jungkookie?"

"hm?"

"I'm hungry."

"There's leftovers in the oven."

"You're not gonna treat me some chicken nuggets?"

"Tomorrow maybe. Its too late now baby."

"Come on, be a sweet baby-boy and do it-"

"Careful sweetheart."

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IT.IS.FINALLY.OUT.Thank you all so so much for waiting so patiently, I really didn't expect all of you to even stay, let alone shower me with all of your support- I really didn't deserve that! I hope I didn't dissapoint too much with it, since I didn't check for spelling errors :( I love you all, and I hope you're all staying safe and healthy during these times! Remember that spreading love begins with self-love, and self-love begins with small steps 💜

#jungkook #bts #bts fanfic #bts jungkook fanfic #jungkook imagine #dom!Jungkook #sub!read #jungkook x reader #bts imagine #bts smut #jungkook smut #bts fluff #bts angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst

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