#you can take this in a dom/sub way or in a caretaking way | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sprout-fics · 6 months

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Mind the Drop

(Captain Price x F! Reader)

Call of Duty Masterlist

Rating: M Wordcount: 7k Tags: BDSM AU, Dom/Sub, Subdrop, Comfort fic, Non-sexual kink, Non-sexual intimacy, Aftercare, Pet names, Platonic BDSM, Cuddling, Subspace, Sleeping together, Praise kink, Mutual pining, Safe Sane and Consensual Warnings: Subdrop A/N: This is an experimental piece that takes place in a BDSM AU verse, where a certain segment of the population is hormonally disposed to being a submissive or dominant. This is not inherently sexual, as you see in this fic. Dom/Sub negotiation is commonplace, but societal stigmas surrounding these roles persist, such as discouraging subs from entering certain industries, such as the military. For more details on BDSM AU within a CoD context, I highly recommend you read "Surviving You" by WhisperedWords12

“Do you know why you’re here, sergeant?”

Price’s voice is calm, firm. There’s not a reprimand there, no gruff warning or the cold, leveled anger of immense displeasure. No, your captain stares at you with his hands folded under his chin, as you stand at a lazy parade rest before his office desk. His eyes are intent, focused in the way he always is, but there’s a concern there hidden by the attentive glint in his eyes.

You don’t look at him, staring down at the surface of his desk instead, not answering. Your eyes rest on a mug of coffee sitting atop a coaster, the steam gone. It’s long since gone cold. It speaks to his own distraction. With what, you’re not really sure. You can’t find yourself to care.

You haven’t slept in days.

It’s nothing to do with your workload. Nothing in regards to any sickness or fever of any sort. In fact, things have been rather quiet recently as the team awaits new marching orders. You’ve all been taking advantage of the downtime as much as possible, relishing the long lapse of respite for your own enjoyment. You’d even taken the chance to recently meet up with someone.

Being a sub requires a certain level of attentiveness to your self regulation. Doms, such as the ones on your team, can go long periods without needing a scene. Eventually they will need to scratch that itch, have someone soft and sweet kneel at their feet and be good for them. The aspect of control, of caretaking and dominance is a necessary part of their existence. It makes them good soldiers, able to take charge and provide insight into their missions.

Subs are uncommon in the military, and the surrounding societal stigma of their existence often relegates them to desk duty or intelligence work. It’s rare to find one in the field, and even then they don’t last long due to the frequent harassment from their dominant counterparts. It’s the reason you’ve concealed yourself for so long, posturing to stand alongside these men who are your comrades, feigning an aura of authority as you go willingly to your duty.

It doesn’t erase the thing inside you- the urge to kneel for someone safe, to listen to their low, rumbling voice as it rocks you into a floaty, warm surrender that relieves you of all tension and stress.

Too long without a scene, without subspace meant you were prone to an itchy, uncomfortable sort of irritation. It manifests as annoyance, a short temper, but eventually transitions into a depressive spiral with little end. Most of the time you can use one of the endorphin injections provided free by the infirmary to even yourself out. Such medical kits, known as SubStop and DomStop, were common in the field, designed to even out the irregular moods and imbalances left by a sudden twist in hormones. You’d gotten used to the nasty side effects, the inevitable crash that came in the wake of the adrenaline. It was easier than dealing with the team knowing your true designation, that you’ve been concealing yourself from them all this time.

Even so, sometimes you required a little extra handling to be able to regulate, feel comfortable and get out of your own head.

In your recent downtime you found someone just like that. A local dom who was calmer, more level headed than younger men on base who were interested purely in the sexual side of submission. You had talked for some time, had explored each other, and had ultimately agreed to meet up for a single session. You had both enjoyed yourself, had a welcome release of rushing endorphins, and for a moment you wondered if perhaps this would lead to something more. It all came crashing down as he began to dress following your scene.

“I don’t do aftercare.” He said blandly, and left.

You haven’t been the same since.

You’d gotten back to base tired, drained, and had curled into your bunk that night to cry yourself to sleep. In the days that have followed you’ve been exhausted, listless, entirely unfocused. Constantly dazed, you try to ignore the whimpering, festering emptiness inside you, feeling as if the world is too big, and you yourself are so very small. You turn into your bunk early in desperate search of sleep, trying vainly to power through the dark loneliness that permeates your entire being.

Subdrop. You knew as soon as your one night stand left, and promptly ghosted you. You knew by the sudden wash of cold, the tremble in your limbs, and the clenching, terrible regret of something wrong. Like tossed into an ice bath straight from the fire, the shock to your system makes you gasp, clutch at your chest at most random moments, wanting to double over due to the phantom pain there.

You know the solution. You know that pure, blissful aftercare will alleviate the effects of your scene gone wrong, but there’s no one to turn to. You can’t disclose to anyone on the team about this. They understand, they know, and they’d be ready to help you. It wasn’t that they weren’t available, but that disclosing yourself might somehow change your rapport with them. The idea that somehow they’d change their view of you, see you as less than was worse than the spiraling side effects of your freefall drop.

Maybe you can find someone to help off base, but even then you don’t trust your own judgment when your insides constantly feel scrubbed cold and raw. If anything, it might make it worse.

You have no choice but to just bite down and deal, and hope that in the coming days that the drop will naturally work its way out of your system. Nevermind the sleepless nights, the hours scrolling mindlessly in the darkness of your bedroom, the way you stare off into space and don’t hear the voices of others.

The team is concerned about you. You’re not hiding your inability to cope very well. The bags under your eyes deepen with each passing day. You move as if pushing through water. You excuse yourself from the rec room when others enter for fear they’ll pull you aside and ask about your listless, depressive state. It’s all for nothing though, because here you find yourself in Price’s office, glassy eyes avoiding his stare.

“Sergeant?”

You blink as his voice prompts you from your reverie, and force yourself to glance up into his eyes before averting your gaze once more.

“Apologies, Sir.” You force yourself to rasp, and frown, not knowing what you’re even apologizing for.

Price is silent. Observing. You feel pinned beneath his stare, try not to squirm under his scrutiny.

“Sit.” He tells you, nudging a chair beside you with his foot. The command itself plucks inside your chest, the needed authority of his voice making something uncomfortable twist inside you. You slide into the seat, perching uncomfortably on the edge, hands folded in your lap. “Look at me.”

You do, you make the effort to look up into his unwavering stare, trying and failing to hide the fatigue in your eyes.

“You’ve not been yourself lately.” He tells you, voice soft, and you grimace. “You’ve been walking around base like a ghost, barely completing your duties, and you’re clearly ignoring the rest of your team.”

The unsaid “Would you like to explain yourself?” Hangs in the silence that follows as you offer no response. There’s nothing to say, nothing you can say without the repercussions that follow.

“I’ve…just had a rough few days.” You tell him, voice tight. “It’s nothing I can’t manage.”

“You know you can rely on your teammates, love.” He reminds you gently, and you swallow hard at the endearment, feeling your shoulders tense. “Whatever it is, we’ll find a way to help. We all care about you.”

Find a way to help. Of course. With the one thing they can’t help you with.

“You can’t help.” You tell him, composure crumbling. “There’s nothing you can do.”

Price is silent, and if you were to look at him, you’d see the inklings of distress etched into his face. You fiddle with the hem of your shirt, mouth pressed into a bitter frown as you try and hide it from him with little success.

Price rises from his chair, circles the desk to you before hesitantly laying a hand on your shoulder. You shudder a sigh at the contact, feeling yourself relax under the needed contact.

“There’s always something we can do.” He reassures you. “But I can’t help unless you tell me what it is.”

If only he could. If only your unwavering, steadfast captain with his guiding hands and gentle, smoky voice could help you, could alleviate the festering emptiness inside you. If only he could hold you the way you so desperately want, remind you what happened wasn’t your fault, allow himself to comfort you from the hurt clenching deep in your chest.

It all comes crashing down.

It starts as a hiccup, a stifled little sound you try to hide, and then your eyes are warm, wet with tears. They spill down your cheeks as you take an unsteady inhale, trying desperately to rein in your volatile emotions, conceal them from the man you admire so much. Try as you may, it’s without any success, because soon you begin to sob quietly with your head bent, face scrunching in an effort to stop your tears.

“It’s alright.” Price encourages softly, hand squeezing your shoulder. “Let it out.”

You do. It’s not a proper cry, not the true chest squeezing kind of cry that entirely empties you, but it serves a purpose in relieving a bit of the pressure inside you. Price stands beside you throughout, his hand drifting to knead gentle circles into the top of your spine as you shiver.

When you finally manage to get yourself under control, you scrub at your face with your jacket sleeve, heave a final shuddering exhale before summoning your resolve.

“Sorry, Sir.” You try again, voice muted, throat raw. “Truth is I…had a bad experience off base. It just shook me. I’ll get over it.”

You don’t need to go into further detail. It’s common knowledge soldiers hook up off base all the time, and Price knows this.

Yet suddenly his hand is tilting your chin up so you look directly into his grave, serious eyes.

“Did they hurt you?” He demands, voice suddenly deeper, grim with a scarcely concealed anger. You blink at the sudden change, the fierce protectiveness in his eyes that sets something in your stomach aflutter.

“N-no.” You manage, realizing what he’s referring to. “No, nothing like that-” You feel warmth crawl across your face, embarrassment prickling your skin. “It was all consensual.”

“Then…?” He presses, and you bite down on the words, refusing to bare this secret to him.

Price pauses then, shifts every so slightly and narrows his eyes. He’s thinking, considering, and you fear he’s seen straight through you. You don’t expect the words that come next.

“Are you dropping?” Price asks, strangely hesitant.

You freeze.

The silence that follows, heavy and persistent, tells Price all he needs to know.

At last, he sighs, letting go of a breath you didn’t realize he was holding.

“Oh love.” He murmurs, voice sad. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

You hunch over at that, hiding yourself from him, curling in on the physical sensation of disappointment that he’s given you.

Price sees it for what it is instantly, realizing his words have only furthered the festering ache inside you.

“Easy.” He gentles, and his hand is firm as it strokes between your tight shoulder blades. “I’m not angry.”

You sniffle into your shirt. “You…you’re not angry I hid my designation?” You ask in a raw whisper.

“No.” He replies instantly. “Only that we failed to make you feel safe enough to tell us.”

“...’s not your fault.” You murmur quietly.

“And what happened isn’t yours.” He offers, just as gently. His hand continues its long, slow strokes between your shoulders, and you feel yourself easing under it, comforted by the mere touch of another person.

“Do you have anyone to…?” He presses carefully, retaining space between you. Not advancing, not without your permission.

It takes you a moment to snap yourself out of the glow beginning to simmer across your senses to understand. He’s asking if you are seeing someone, if you have a partner to provide assistance with your drop. A bitter frown tugs your lips downwards, remembering the words of the man you met before he vanished.

“He…he said he doesn’t do aftercare.” You confess, voice small.

Price freezes.

You hear him take in a deep breath to steady himself, releasing it just as long in an effort to measure his anger.

“He did not do right by you.” He tells you, and in his voice you hear the ire, the offense on your behalf that clenches his hand atop his knee. Yet he unfurls it, and reaches out gently between you to gingerly rest it on your hand perches in your lap.

“I don’t mean to overstep.” He begins. “However, I can offer some assistance with this. Entirely on your terms. If you need someone to help, I can act as a…stand-in, as it were.”

You blink, face falling open in surprise as you stare down at your lap where his hand is. Reassuring but respectful, not crowding into your space. Asking for permission.

“You mean that?” You ask, finally looking up at him, voice cracking in a whisper that speaks of hope.

Price’s eyes are steady, calm as he regards you, Unflinching, intent, an anchor from the storm of your emotions.

“I do.” He returns easily, voice firm.

You swallow, face pinching as you consider. “And…what about after? Will it…” You trail off, the unspoken thing hovering in the air between you.

Will it change anything?

“No.” He replies quickly. “This is strictly between us. If you want to pretend like it never happened after, that’s what we’ll do.”

You hold his gaze for another minute, finally able to bear the stare of his blue eyes. You look for doubt there, an inkling of hesitation. Yet all you find is resolve and open, offering hands.

“Take some time to consider it.” He tells you in the lapse of silence that follows. “If you decide you’d like some help, you can come to my quarters tonight. If you decide against it, let me know.”

You manage a nod at that, swallowing the thickness in your throat and adjusting your hand under his in a small squeeze of thanks. It seems to be enough for him, because Price offers a smile, one that feels like it eases the tension radiating from your form just a little more. It takes a moment, but you sniffle and return the smile shyly.

“Right.” He announces, and gently withdraws from you to stand, assisting you to your feet as well and gently escorting you to the door of his office. You lean into his touch eagerly, feeling the firm grip of his palm at the small of your back. His voice rumbles with a gentle authority as he guides you forward. “In the meantime I want you to take the rest of the afternoon off, and to visit the infirmary for a check-up. You’re sleep deprived and dehydrated. Let them sort you. Understood?”

“Understood.” You echo dutifully, and once more that hand returns to your shoulder in a familiar grip, offering a small squeeze before he opens the door for you, his voice soft in a parting farewell.

“Take care, love. Let me know what you decide.”

—

In the end, you come to him.

It’s not a hard decision, but it does take some thought. You know his offer was genuine, with no ulterior motives. Almost clinical, doing his duty as your superior, in a way. You don’t deny that it hurts, considering the beginning of your feelings for him, but the doubt there is pressed down by the need for the assistance he offers. You hesitate only because you’re terribly afraid that things will change despite his words.

Would he try and bench you during missions? Have you hang back, underestimate you because of your designation?

You trust him, and that much is clear to you. You know Price won’t take advantage of you while you’re down. He’s a good man. You’ve handed your life to him in the field any number of times, trusting him to keep you safe and whole. This shouldn’t be any different.

…Right?

You swallow thickly as you knock thrice on his door, and almost instantly you hear his voice beckon you inside.

It’s dim, you notice, warm. There’s several blankets folded at the foot of his bed, a small assortment of snacks and water bottles set out on his dresser. Yellow light from his bedside light paints the room in quiet shadows. There’s a distant scent of cigars that lingers in the air, as if he’s done his best to air out the room before your arrival. It’s comforting in a way, a reminder of his scent in the few instances you’ve gotten physically close to him.

Price himself sits on the edge of the bed, limbs relaxed as much as he’ll allow them. He’s staring at you as the door shuts behind you, and if anything the dim shadows seem to make his eyes glint all the more.

“How are you feeling?” Is the first question he asks you, and something aches inside you at the purposefully slow, soft tenor of his voice, still accompanied with a hint of his gruff rasp.

“Shaky.” You tell him honestly, holding your trembling hands before your back.

Price makes a small, considering sound, examining your rigid, tense posture and letting silence hang heavy between you both for a few moments. You squirm under his gaze, eyes averting shyly at the fixation of his gaze on you.

Then he stands, takes two steps towards you. He stands just outside your personal space, tilts his head down to examine you with an unwavering, focused gaze. You have to restrain yourself from pushing forward, wanting desperately to fold into his arms, to let him hold you. It pulses inside your chest, tethered to the uncomfortably, empty ache sitting below your ribs.

“Will you let me help you?” He asks, voice a soft lull to your ears. It takes effort to not let your eyes flutter. You can already feel it creeping on you, that floaty, comfortable haze that offers to drown your senses in pillowy softness. You give him a small nod, only for a finger to tip your chin up towards him. It startles a breathy little sound from you, and you bite down on it a moment too late, teeth grazing your bottom lip.

“Need to use your words, love.” He rumbles, and damn if your knees don’t wobble at that alone, the deep tenor of his voice, the gentle but authoritative force of his words. You can see the shadows of his eyes as he falls easily into his role, a gentle, insistent domination that you can’t help but follow like a moth to a flame.

“Yes.” You manage, heat rising to your face. “Yes.”

He smiles then, and this time you have to use your strength to stay upright, already wanting to go down to the floor in front of him, feel the wood beneath your knees.

“We’re going to take this slow.” He tells you, his thumb brushing over your chin with a purposeful graze. “Need to work you through it, put you down and then bring you back up again. Can you do that for me? …Words, darling.” He adds when you once again nod silently.

“Yes, sir.” You offer, trusting, sincere.

There’s a dark look in Price’s eyes then, a hunger so swift and sharp it steals your breath in the single moment before it’s gone once more.

“Good girl. Can you tell me your safe word?”

You blink at him a little dopily, distracted by his thumb circling slow circles on your chin. You wonder what it would feel like pressed on your tongue.

“Just colors, please.” You tell him breathily.

Price nods at that, satisfied.

“Kneeling? Physical touch? Praise? Commands?” He goes on, and you nod eagerly at all of them before remembering to tac on your vocal approval. It seems to amuse him, your distraction, because you hear a chuckle rumble deep in his chest.

“Very good, darling. Going to keep this nice and slow, get you all sorted. Can you be good for me?”

That does it, and you shudder a little into his touch, tilting your head so your cheek brushes against his knuckles with a whispered little “Yes, sir.”

Maybe it’s the drop, maybe it’s him, but you already feel like you’re gently descending into total relaxation, a surrender and trust to be taken care of.

“That’s it.” He coos, wrapping one strong arm around your waist and gently guiding you back with him until his knees hit the bed. He sits, keeps you standing, one hand still tucked around your waist, just observing you. After a moment he reaches for a pillow, drops it to the floor just at your feet.

“Go ahead and kneel for me, sweet thing.”

You try to gracefully lower yourself down, but with your wobbly legs you fall more than you descend. A careful glance up at him proves Price is trying to hide his mild amusement, his hand snaking from your waist up to your shoulder as you sink to your knees. It takes a few moments to settle, and once you do Price’s hand once catches your chin, tilting you to his gaze.

Oh. This…this is nice. You think, eyelashes fluttering. Here, kneeling comfortably, safe in his room, the quiet lull of base a distant murmur in the backdrop. It’s cozy, serene, and you can feel the low, cloudy sensation of subspace slowly wash over your senses.

“Look at you.” He purrs, tapping your chin once to indicate you remain tilted up to look at him. “So far down for me already. Doing so well.”

The part of you that’s yet to let go, that clings on to that remnant, persistent tension of you swallows down the whine that threatens your throat. He seems to notice, tilting his head a little and blinking slowly, considering.

“What do you need, love?” He asks, and you shake your head mildly, trying to find your answer amidst the confusion of your clouded senses.

“Don’t know.” You tell him honestly, and begin to fidget. “I…”

“Shh, that’s alright.” he soothes easily, knuckles grazing your cheek. “Need you to listen to me, angel. Can you do that?”

You nod quickly, eager, willing to entrust yourself to him, to listen to whatever commands he has to offer.

“Good girl.” He returns, pausing to watch the shiver that traces across your limbs. “Go ahead and wrap your arms around my legs…just like that. Put your head right there on my knees. There you go.”

He maneuvers you slowly, gently, shaping you to his command as your arms settle locked behind his calves, chin pressed in the dip between his closed knees. He’s warm, and like this you can drink in the scent of him- smoky, musky, a hint of cologne he’s used to try and smother the smell of cigars.

In the dim, warm light you can see his eyes- dark, focused, unblinking as they gaze down at you settled comfortably at his feet. There’s a hitch in his breathing- a shallow indication of his reaction to the sight of you, with your hazy eyes and parted lips, well on your way down into subspace.

“Give me a color, darling.”

“Green.” You breathe almost instantaneously.

“Very good. How are you feeling?”

Your brow pinches at that, feeling the remnant tug of tension still pull as a dull ache in your ribs.

“...Better?” You offer after an uncertain pause. Price looks a little dismayed at that, with his furrowed brow and down turned lips that tug the corners of his beard. It sends a little bit of alarm pulsing through you, afraid of his disappointment, perhaps a reprimand, and he feels it instantly in the way you stiffen against him.

“Easy, relax.” He gentles, a hand reaching to cup your nape. “Just checking in, love. There’s nothing wrong. You’re safe.”

You ease at that, eyelashes fluttering, sinking back into him once more.

“Good girl.” He purrs, thumb stroking in lazy circles across your nape.

“Thank you, sir.” You reply, voice slurring a little as you sink down.

If his fingers pause on your nape, you don’t notice, too distracted by the warmth and smell of him in your comfortable position.

It’s nice. You can feel yourself unwinding bit by bit, head propped in between his knees as you look up at him in the dim, warm light. There’s the beginnings of a relaxed sort of glaze to his eyes as he stares down at you wordlessly, taking in the soft, sweet sight of your open face. He’s falling into domspace, you can tell, allowing himself to relax into the role of taking care of you.

“We’re going to try some breathing exercises, sweetheart.” He announces after the long silence. “Deep breathe-” He sucks in a long, heavy inhale, and you mirror him, holding as long as he does, before releasing. “And out. Very good. Doing so well for me. Again.”

You mirror him as he breathes, feeling the tension slowly relax from your shoulders. With each inhale you drop your chin further into the cradle of his knees, feeling a warm haze descend over you. Each exhale releases a little more of the stiffness in your limbs, like loosening a knot tied in your chest.

You don’t even notice it when your cheek lolls against one of his knees, eyes half lidded as you gaze up at him. Nor do you notice the purposefully slow, even breaths he forces himself to take at your loose, pliant form crowded so close to him.

“There we go, angel. All the way down. So sweet and soft for me. Tap twice on my leg if you can still hear me.”

A small tap twice to the inside of his knee, and when Price smiles you feel gooey warmth bleed down into your bones.

“Very good.” He coos, knuckles grazing over the cheek not pressed to his knee in a featherlight touch. “Going to let you float for a bit. You can go down as deep as you need. I’ll be right here. Tap on my knee when you’re ready to come up.”

You cast a lingering gaze at him, eyes vaguely worried, but his voice hushes you easily.

“You’re safe. I’m right here, not going to leave. I’ve got you.”

You blink at him, slow, trusting, before you finally allow your head to drape across his knee, arms relaxing but maintaining their hold on his legs. A deep, fulfilling sigh breezes past your lips, and you feel yourself go sweetly down into a blissful haze of warm, dewy softness. Your breaths slow to deep, even inhales and exhales, and you feel your heartbeat pulse low in your ribs, where the ache and emptiness of your drop slowly begins to alleviate.

“There we go.” Price murmurs above you, a hand petting gently at your hair in a tender touch. “Went down nice and easy for me, didn’t you, sweet girl?”

You make a little hum against his leg, too comfortable and floaty to do much more than that. It seems to amuse him, somehow, and when he chuckles the sound warms you right through.

God this is nice. Just sitting here at his feet, pressed up close to his legs, snuggled in as close as you can get. With your cheek pressed against his knee you can drink in the heavy, comforting scent of him, let it cloud your thoughts and drift you further into blissful tranquility.

You don’t need to speak, to think or make decisions. Duties, secrets, resilience, you don’t need any of it. All you need is to just be here, pressed against Price, pliant and sweet as he rumbles soothingly down at you.

“Doing well, love. Take as much time as you need. You’re safe.”

Yes. You’re safe. You’ve always been safe with him. There’s nobody in the world you trust more than Price. He’s saved your life many times over, has dragged you to safety, has slung your arm across his shoulder as he helped carry you, has offered careful, firm murmurs as he’s wrapped bandages across your wounds. He’s always taken care of you, in his own way. Each debrief comes with a hand across your shoulder, a long, sideways glance that says more than he can.

You’ve never let yourself get close to him, too afraid of him finding out what you are, too afraid of his prejudice and judgment.

Now that you’re here, curled up at his feet and drifting serenely, you wonder why you ever worried at all.

You stay like that for a long while, simply breathing, thoughts empty as you hug his legs, absorbing his warmth. The room is quiet, and in the soft after hours of base the only sounds you can hear is the slow, steady thump of your heart and Price’s low, measured breathing.

You wish you could stay here forever, just being sweet and good for him, but eventually your knees begin to cramp up and you shift uncomfortably with a little whine.

“Eyes up, love.” Price tells you, words belaying a hint of firm command, and instantly you prop your chin to look up at him with soft, dewey eyes.

You’re too lost to notice the way his eyes glint, the unblinking fixation of him as he simply takes in the sight of you- lost in the dopey haze of subspace, lips parted as you stare at him with a glassy, lidded gaze.

“Look at you.” He breathes with a soft sigh, raising a hand to cup your face. You lean into it with a blissful little sigh. “Gorgeous thing.”

You squirm a little at that, skin warming with the praise. As you move to hide your face in his knees, Price keeps a hold of your chin, forcing you to stare up at him.

“Mm, eyes on me. Just like that. Good.”

You wonder, amidst the cottony softness of your thoughts, what the purpose of this is, with him taking his time to just drink you in like he’ll drown without the sight. You can see his eyes tinted with the same wayward longing he offers you when you catch his gaze after missions- when he aches for you, longs to make sure you’re safe.

The ache in your knees returns, and a little whine bubbles up your throat, brow pinching with discomfort.

“Feeling sore?” Price inquiries gently, and you nod into his hand. “Alright angel, sit up for me. Slowly…good. Good girl.”

You raise up a little on your knees, and soon Price leans over you, securing his hands on you to drag you further up and onto the bed. You allow him to arrange your heavy, sluggish limbs so you’re braced with your back against the headboard, nestled in his pillows. You go willingly, easing into his touch, content at letting him maneuver you as he pleases.

When he moves away from you, however, you startle a little at the sudden absence of his touch.

Price notices instantly, and once more you feel his hand stroke across your face, thumb descending to press against the plush bed of your bottom lip.

“Just getting some snacks and water, love. Count to ten for me, I’ll be right back.”

That eases you some, and you nod, slowly counting. You get to eight before Price returns, dropping a bottle and a snack bar on his bedside table.

“Scoot forward for me.” He instructs, and you obey as best you can, allowing him to shuffle you a little forward further down the bed. It takes some maneuvering, but soon you find Price sitting up behind you, dragging you back so you sit inside the nest of his legs, back pressed to his front.

If you thought kneeling at his feet was nice, this must be heaven.

He’s so big and warm, and when an arm wraps around your front to keep you from falling too far down the bed, you distantly wonder if you ever want to come up at all.

Price adjusts, and you hear the sound of a wrapper being put aside before the snack bar appears in your line of vision.

“Just a few bites.” He tells you, but makes no motion indicating for you to take the bar from his hands.

You lean forward obediently, taking small bites from his hand as he provides them to you, quiet and appreciative, until the entire thing is gone.

“Very, very good.” He murmurs, chin braced atop your head, huffing a pleased little sound when you squirm a little in his lap at the praise. “Like being told you’re good, don’t you, angel?”

You want to hide your face in his chest, but unable to do so your instead let your head drop forward a little, avoiding his eyes.

“Shy thing, aren’t you?” He rumbles, pleased, and it only makes a rush of warmth trace across your skin at the deep, purring tenor of his voice in your ear.

You get the feeling he wants to tease you a little more, but opts instead to wrap a hand under your jaw in a careful grip, lifting you up so he can graze the water bottle across your lips.

“Just a few sips.” He encourages. “Then we can lay down and take a little snooze. How’s that sound?”

You nod eagerly at that, and readily drink down the water when he offers it to you. You’re about halfway down when you finally tilt your head away, and Price wordlessly deposits the bottle on the table.

“Tell me a color, love.”

You have to think about it, past the hazy softness of you, brow pinching as your brain turns over the question.

“Green.” You reply with a little sigh, one that Price mirrors behind you.

“Good girl. You ready to come up yet?”

You shake your head at that, frowning. Honestly, a part of you knows you have to come up at some point, but if you had it your way you’d stay like this forever, caught in his arms, warm and fed and cared for as his chest rises deep with every inhale.

Price chuckles at your pouting little expression. When he bends forward to reach for a blanket at the bottom of the bed, he’s forced to curl over you, pressing you down with his weight. It’s startling how quickly you have to stifle a moan at the sensation, with his larger frame bracketing you in, engulfing you with the firm line of his body against yours.

He pulls back all too soon, drapes a blanket across your lap and up to your shoulders. It’s soft, a little worn, but it smells like him, and that’s all you need. You snuggle happily into it with a little hum, leaning back against him a little more until you’re completely situated.

“There we go, angel. How’s that feel?”

“ ‘S nice.” You slur, tucking your head a little further down to nestle into the blanket. “Comfy.”

Price hums a pleased little sound, one hand still wrapped around your front, and now the other resting easily on your thigh, pressing in soft, lazy circles. It’s instantly soothing, and once more you can feel yourself drifting a little further down into that wordless, worriless meditation.

“Close your eyes for me, love.” Price murmurs gently. “Slow, deep breaths.”

You comply readily, and as you feel his chest rise slow and deep behind you you force yourself to match it, dragging in a warm inhale that’s heavy with his scent. You follow him as he exhales, and then repeats once more.

“Just like that.” He murmurs as you grow completely limp in his arms. “All the way down. Perfect.”

You’re too far under to even acknowledge him, senses heavy and sated as he curls himself a little further around you, hand stroking lazy patterns along your thigh.

“Rest now, darling. I’ll be here when you come up.”

Regardless of the command, you find yourself drifting easily into stillness, a languid little sigh releasing all the tension in your body before sleep descends dusky and tender over your senses.

—

It’s still dark when you finally wake up, sluggish and heavy. The room is still warm and dim, quiet with the low, steady thump of your heartbeat. It’s the first thing you notice aside from the contented weight of your limbs.

The second is the pair of arms wrapped around you, tucking you close into Price’s front as you both lay on your sides.

“Awake?” He rumbles, and with the soft hoarse of his voice you can tell he’s been dozing as well, not fully asleep, still present for you to wake up and he told you he’d be.

“Mhm.” You mumble, ignoring the self conscious little flutter at being caught in his arms like this.

“Feeling better?” Price asks, and makes no move to shift away or dislodge you from his hold.

“Much.” Your eyes are level with his collarbone that peeks beneath his shirt, and there you see an old, silvery scar that snakes up towards his jugular. You wonder about the story there, about how this man has seen so much violence and yet somehow can still be so gentle.

“Thank you.” You whisper, feeling that warm haze now gently ease, and in its place a comfortable awareness free from the empty, clenching side effects of drop. “For all of this.”

Price is silent for a moment, and you wonder if perhaps you said the wrong thing. His voice is low, deep as he speaks.

“He shouldn’t have treated you like that” He rumbles, and there’s a hint of darkness there, one that melds with his hold on you tightening just a fraction, as if he’s too possessive to let you go. “If I-”

He stops himself then, words biting into nothingness. You hold your breath, waiting for more, but it doesn’t come. Instead, the silence envelops you both, soft and warm, a touch bitter with unspoken words.

“I understand why you didn’t tell us, love.” He speaks at last. “And I trust you’ll understand when I say we will never judge you for anything but yourself.”

Emotion, hot and thick, rises up through your belly. It scrunches your face, warms your eyes as you sniffle against him.

This is what you wanted. The entire time, all of this hiding and secrecy and anxiousness. You wanted to be accepted, to be held, to be cherished, by him.

“I wish it was you.” You whisper, scarcely audible. “The entire time, I wished it was you.”

Price stiffens at that, and you’re certain he’s going to pull away, to declare this scene is over and gently escort you out. You wonder vaguely if you’ll hurtle straight back into drop with his rejection.

“If I had known-” He murmurs in an echo of his previous words. “I would have offered myself much sooner.”

You look up at that, tilting your head so your eyes no longer look at his chest, but into his eyes. Soft, sincere, achingly tender in a way that plucks the defenseless heart strings inside you.

“You mean that.” You state then, voice scarcely containing your hope.

Price makes a little rumbling hum down at you, his hand flexing at the small of your back.

“Only if you’ll have me, angel.”

Angel.

Now, here, out of subspace, away from the cottony softness of him guiding you down. Instead he calls you this beloved endearment because it’s you, because he wants you.

It’s all you’ve ever wanted- to be here, to be in his arms, to entrust yourself to him so wholly and completely that he becomes the only thing for you with his gentle guiding hands and stern, smoke laden words.

“I’m your captain.” He tells you, one hand grazing your cheek in a beloved touch. “But if you ever need more, all you need to do is ask.”

The words inside you seem to buzz soundlessly in the cavern of your thoughts. There’s so many things you want to say, to confess, to ask of him. Yet here, in this moment, the only thing you can offer him is the thing you’ve said from the beginning.

“Please.”

And- oh. Oh, his smile, the way it tugs at his beard and makes the smile lines crinkle at the corner of his eyes, pleased and soft even as his eyes glint in the darkness. A quiet, profound gratitude of which he speaks little, and yet feels so deeply.

“Can I stay?” You ask, voice small but hopeful, and Price’s eyes twinkle with an amusement that swoops low in your stomach.

“Who said you were leaving?”

You smile at that, and if anything it makes the corners of his lips tug tighter, a low, pleased rumble vibrating through his chest pressed close to yours.

“Rest, darling.” He encourages once more. “There will be time in the morning.”

There will be. There will be time come morning, and there will be time after. There will be time for the touches that follow, and the words that precede them. There will be time for his familiar control to settle comfortably over you, for you to slowly but fully surrender to him. There will be time for you to become his entirely, and for you to go willing into his guiding hands.

Yet here, in his arms, safe and whole, you silently wish that dawn will never come.

I already posted this over on AO3 but figured I would post this on here as well. Enjoy!

#price x reader #captain price x reader #john price x reader #captain john price x reader #john price x you #to add to masterlist

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gimmethatagustd · 4 months

Text

sweet dreams | ksj

Seokjin loves when you paint your nails pink.

○ Pairing: Dom!Seokjin x Sub!Reader

○ Rating: Explicit/18+

○ Genre: Established relationship, smut

○ 8 / 100 Drabble Challenge (Master/Dom)

○ Word Count: 1,182

○ Warnings: Free use kink, consensual somnophilia (kinks negotiated "off screen"), vaginal fingering, spit, unprotected vaginal sex, cunnilingus, cum eating, light bdsm themes, no pronouns or gendered language are used for the MC aside from pussy and tits

○ Notes: I think I'm going insane actually 😅 Please read the warnings and if you don't know what somnophilia is, please maybe do a little research before you read this, just in case it might be triggering to you. Also I didn't edit this and I'm too embarrassed by the filth to even proofread it so jhsdfkjs enter at your own risk, besties. Proceed with caution 😭

○ Post Date: February 10, 2024

○ Masterlist | AO3 Crosspost

○ What was Jai listening to? Do Me Right - GEMINI

For the past few months, work has been kicking Seokjin’s ass. As his company barrels toward a major project deadline, he’s found very little time to spend with you. It’s unfortunate because you are accustomed to having fun together, whether going on dates or having a casual night in.

You’ve been bitter about it, and Seokjin can’t blame you. His baby deserves better, to be cared for and spoiled, and deserves more attention than he has given you.

Coming home late, Seokjin sighs when he slips into the apartment and finds all the lights off. It’s just past midnight, long since you fell asleep. You used to stay up for him, but Seokjin begged you not to. It wasn’t fair for you to deny yourself sleep because of his job.

After taking off his shoes and removing his suit jacket and tie, Seokjin quietly makes his way down the hall to the bedroom you share.

You’re fast asleep in bed, sprawled out on your stomach with one knee hiked up, wearing nothing but a cropped tank top and flimsy panties, the kind with lace trim and a tiny bow because your ass is a present, or whatever that rap verse is that you’re always quoting.

Seokjin thinks you’re cute in anything.

He especially thinks you’re cute in pink – pink panties, pink tank tops, the remnants of pink eyeshadow because you forgot to wash your face before you fell asleep, and, his favorite, pink nail polish.

The little glass bottle sits on the nightstand beside your bed. You applied the polish shortly before bed, and Seokjin can smell the lingering chemical aroma in the air.

It started as a shy confession and an even more shy request – you admitting to Seokjin that you always wanted to try out a particular fantasy but had never found a partner you trusted with this level of kink exploration. Seokjin, though, you trust with your life. He has done his best to show you that he can and will listen to you, respect you, and love you.

So when you asked Seokjin to have his way with you whenever you wear your favorite pink nail polish, he took his role as your trusted caretaker very seriously.

Seokjin pulls his shirt over his head, tossing it onto the floor along with his jeans. Keeping his briefs on, he kneels on the bed, one knee on either side of your leg that’s straightened out. He uses his knee to push your leg that’s bent, hiking it up to open your thighs even further. He’s slow as he does it, careful not to wake you up.

He runs his palms over your asscheeks, slipping his fingers beneath your underwear and squeezing just light enough to make them jiggle. Pulling your underwear to the side, he exposes your pussy, open wide for him from how he has pushed your leg up.

Leaning forward, Seokjin spits onto your pussy. He uses his thumb to push his spit through your folds, rubbing it over your clit and then dragging it down to your entrance to dib his thumb inside.

You let out a small whimper, and Seokjin pauses his movements. Only his heavy breathing and your little sounds echo in the room, but your eyes remain closed, and your breathing is slow.

Relaxing with the knowledge that you’re still asleep, Seokjin starts touching you again. He spends time circling your clit, alternating between pressing hard on the sensitive skin and maintaining light touches that serve more to spread your arousal around. His mouth waters from just playing with your clit, and he lets more spit soak your pussy. Seokjin always likes it wet and messy, especially when you’re so pliant while sleeping.

Your body reacts on its own, naturally shifting into his touch when he slides two fingers into your entrance. He fucks you slowly, easing his fingers in and out carefully so he doesn’t disturb you. Your ass jiggles slightly each time his fingers rock into you. Sometimes, he pushes deep in and stays there, fluttering and massaging your wet walls.

With his other hand, Seokjin reaches over to push up your shirt. Since it’s a crop top, it’s already barely covering your tits, making it easier for him to push it up. Licking his fingers, he tweaks your exposed nipple, swirling and pinching it until it grows hard.

Seokjin bites his bottom lip to stop himself from moaning as he eases his fingers out of you, smearing your arousal on the back of your thigh. You're so wet, and his cock is aching, hard, and dripping precum, a dark spot staining the front of his briefs.

"So beautiful..." Seokjin whispers to himself as he spreads your lips and spits directly into your pussy again. Arousal and spit dribbles down your lips and soaks the bed sheets.

Unable to take it, Seokjin takes his cock out and rubs the tip through your folds. When the ridge of his head catches against your clit, you let out a quiet whimper, your body aware of the pleasure even if your mind is still oblivious.

The little breathy sounds you make only spur Seokjin on more. He's impatient as he sinks his cock into you, your walls slippery and hot as you suck him in. He presses his hands into the bed on either side of your waist and thrusts deep and slow, careful not to wake you as he fucks into you.

Seokjin loves how easy it is to manipulate your body while you're sleeping, especially knowing that you like being a little fucktoy for him. You like it when he uses your body like the perfect cocksleeve, pleasuring him even when you're asleep.

You moan in your sleep, and Seokjin wonders if you're dreaming about him fucking you. You came in the past, writhing in your sleep and moaning so loudly that you woke yourself up. This time, you must be genuinely exhausted because your eyes barely flutter as Seokjin chases his pleasure.

It doesn't take long for him to cum. He does so with quiet grunts, pulling back just in time to watch his cum spurt over your lips, some of the hot liquid dripping back into your stretched-out entrance.

Not even bothering to tuck his cock back in his briefs, he slides down to bury his face in your pussy, lapping at the cum to clean you up. It's the final push you need to finally orgasm, your hips bucking and your body shaking as a moan rips through your throat.

"Jin," you gasp, reaching down to dig your fingers in his hair. You don't bother getting up; just let your body slump into the bed as your orgasm hurdles through you like electricity, shocking your system.

"Sorry, I woke you up," Seokjin murmurs against your pussy. He tries to pull away, but you push his head back down.

"Please," you whisper, sleepy eyes still closed. "More, please."

Humming in satisfaction, Seokjin gives you what you want. He's weak like that; even when you're pliant, he'll always be weak for you.

Disclaimer: All my writing is fictional and for entertainment purposes only. None of these characters are meant to actually represent the real people mentioned in the stories.

All rights reserved © @gimmethatagustd - Do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my writing. Do not use my writing for any AI purposes whatsoever. Do not use my fics for anything aside from reading and commenting on them. My fics will only be posted on this Tumblr and on AO3 (gimmethatagustd & daddytaehyungie). Request an AO3 account here.

@jooniesxbby @seokteoksworld @taegeum @dprmoon @chimmisbae @yoonminkookk

#seokjin x reader #bts x reader #bts fanfic #seokjin fanfic #bts smut #seokjin smut #100 drabble challenge #sweet dreams #jai writes #gimmethatagustd

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tinycozycomfort · 8 months

Text

trust fall

pairing: jackson era!joel miller x f!reader

day two of @pascalisbaby and i's joeltober: fluid exchange -> read her day two here

summary: This, that was a shy thing at first, set into motion by some passing remark you’d made all those months ago—that he would do anything for you if you just asked nice enough.

warnings/tags: pwp!, fluid exchange (come eating/spitting), oral sex (f receiving), anal play, dirty talk, mention of unprotected piv, dom/sub dynamics, pet names (honey, sweetheart, etc), praise kink, edging

word count: 1.6k

rating: explicit! 18+ only, mdni

a/n: arguably the filthiest thing i've ever written (nervous) but wow was it great practice. thank you for reading!

main masterlist

“What a mess. Who’s gonna clean all this up, sweetheart?”

He’s thumbing at the crease of your thigh where it folds into your core, pulling against the bend so that your seam widens. You can feel him looking, each cool swing of his breath fanning over the heat at your center. The slow trickle of where he leaks out of you makes your skin tighten, shrinking uncomfortably over muscle in little welts.

Joel doesn’t take well to your lack of focus, choosing to demand your attention instead; the press of his thumb turns harder, meeting the end of his pointer to pinch. The pain is instant, but the delay from your haze makes you skip a yelp all together, straight to words like he wants.

“I’ll clean myself.”

He hums, releasing your flesh, petting the wound where it thrums, “Now how can you reach all the way down here?”

You know this game well—where he means to reduce you to less than incapable, framing it like you’ve lost your way after what he’s just done to you. He wants to act like he can help you, when in reality it’s done to service himself, only further fueling his need to be in control—a role that toes the line between offender and caretaker. He aches to relinquish you of every responsibility, even that of thought.

Joel swipes at the come that refuses to let up where it’s dripping out, making a slow show—one that only he can see and only you can feel—of gathering and pooling and reinserting it, just to watch it slip out again.

“I-I don’t know. But I need to get clean.”

He’s smiling something horrible, eyes shining when you gaze down to plead your case for assistance.

“Oh, poor thing, I know. It’s not your fault,” he dips his thumb into you before trailing up just under the bead of skin above your opening, “There’s just so much. But you’re right, we can’t have you ruining the sheets.” Joel bares his teeth again when you hiss, narrowly missing your clit when you try to maneuver your way into his hand.

You pant, barely able to piece together your cue, “How?”

“Hard to think after the way I fucked you, hm?” He brushes his free hand across the hill of your cheek, pitiful, as he shakes his head in mock disbelief, “I guess I could help you, sweetheart. Do you want that?”

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes, please.”

“There she goes. My polite girl. Same one who begged for all this mess in the first place—isn’t that right?”

You can’t bear to try and find the words, just letting your head loll to the side so you can nod without the pain of keeping your neck straight. He’s unraveling your grip thread by thread so you can become the soft, helpless thing he needs you to be.

He shoves himself down, ducks his head to be level with your cunt, the hot vent of air around his face bleeding onto you. He’s worked up—you know it from the delicate shudder in his hands, the uneven half-steps in his breathing—and while he swears he can’t, you wish he’d fuck you again. You wriggle, back flat to the bed and knees spreading instinctively.

Joel starts at the slip of skin separating your cunt from what sits beneath it, careful to catch what he couldn’t collect on the last sweep. His mouth is warm and his tongue gentle, but the breath it punches out of you is hard—furious.

You’re humming high in your throat, past the point of well-mannered, and he’s delighted, slipping the muscle between his lips inside of you, tilting his head just enough so that his nose can’t touch where you’re throbbing for him most.

You beg, “Joel. Joel, please,” rolling the knobs of your spine forcefully enough to sting, trying uselessly to make contact. He huffs, forearm mashing haphazardly against the curve of your hip, flustered.

“You don’t need it, honey. Now keep still.”

You’re full-on whining now, little pieces of sound, reedy and loud and not enough to make him feel bad, apparently.

He nestles himself back in, the wide flat of his tongue pressing hard enough to breach your hole, spooning out everything you saved for him inside you and you start to seethe, a thin film of sweat breaking out across your chest—boiling.

The hand you haven’t felt in a while returns to a different place, the tips of his pointer and middle brushing under where he’s eating you, the hole there wet with whatever continues to evade his mouth.

He circles it and you fidget, begging him for anything more, the slow working of his jaw not enough to bring you to the edge.

There’s the other half of the game—if you can’t come before he’s deemed you clean, you don’t get to at all.

A sticky curl of love swells in your belly at how familiar you are now with this routine, how far he’s come—peeling away enough of his distance to show his face, to bring you to this. This, that was a shy thing at first, set into motion by some passing remark you’d made all those months ago—that he would do anything for you if you just asked nicely enough.

Joel’s uncovered desire to see you need him, beg for him, just to make him relent in your favor, was intoxicating. In turn, he continues to make it harder every time for you both, upping the stakes after you barely manage to satisfy his last demand; narrow wins that remind you of just how much power he holds. Always sweet and comforting and protecting, even if from the severity of himself.

Your stomach clenches, trying frantically to pace your breaths, to focus on the feeling of every too-long pass that has him nudging the underside of your clit, the way his fingers tease against your asshole. He hums in warning, almost done, and you knock a fist against the bed in frustration.

He pulls away suddenly and your shoulders cave, upset by his unwarned finish, and you’re ready to apologize within an inch of your life when he pipes up.

“Am I not enough for you, honey? You liked my cock, plenty. Why can’t you do it for my mouth, too?”

“Joel. Joel, you are—you’re enough. I just– right now I need more.”

“No, you don’t. And I’m not going to tell you again. Now—” he uses the hand not already playing with you to dig into the meat of your thigh, nails drawn, maybe a little upset by how many words you’ve managed despite his ministrations, “Make me happy.”

He sways low again, the return of his mouth against-underneath-inside of you making your hands curl, a warm buzz floating up through your legs and forearms to meet together in the middle. He’s fervent, determined to prove you wrong now that you’ve challenged his ability and you’re squealing, so light-headed from the effort to breathe that you’re close to stopping all together.

Joel feeds his lip between his teeth against you reflexively, like he’s trying to hold himself back for a moment, and the idea that he’s gearing up for a long night makes you heave.

He tries to hide his tell, taking the quickest pause to spit onto his fingers, prodding at your asshole to divert your attention, hardly sliding in as to not give you more than you’ve earned, “Don’t get ahead of yourself, now. Haven’t worked for much of anything yet.”

“But–”

“Show me you can be good, first. Shouldn’t be so hard for you, honey, c’mon.” He inches closer once more, breathing out against you, alternating between little puffs of cold exhales and firm pants of hot air.

You writhe, so pent up you feel restricted by your own body, like climbing out from a pool fully-clothed—heavy and sopping and always tipping back with resistance. Your face is on fire, fingers twisting to try and take the brunt of your need to move.

Joel is ecstatic—you can hear the wet slide of his grin—and you’re right at the cusp of giving in when he breaks the gap, hot mouth latching onto your clit and you’re gone. You can feel it spread the length of your core first, filling out quickly to everywhere else and you jolt, legs snapping together fast enough that your knees knock above his head.

He repositions his hands, squeezing between them to pry you open. You wedge a wrist behind you, trying to lift yourself in an effort to stop him but when you peer down, the look on his face is serene, pleading. An exercise in trust maybe—that he’s acquainted enough with your body to know your limit.

You let yourself rest again and inhale deep, letting him work you down to a stop, the feeling of overstimulation falling into a wash of fuzzy static . Only after you unfold does Joel remove himself, pressing light kisses to the peak of your hip bone on his way up—proud.

He leans over your torso, his chest parallel, the damp rub of your skin setting your heart off as you breathe in tandem. Selfishly, you scrabble a bit, wanting desperately to have more claim on his body.

“Hey, hey. Shh. No need to do all that. I’m right here for you.” Joel gathers up your palm between his fingers, sliding your limp knuckles over his cheeks, the little curve of his lip. A moment passes and you reclaim ownership of it, caressing the underside of his jaw faintly.

“Was I good?” you whisper.

“So good. See, I knew you could do it.”

He nudges at the band of rib under your breast, “Maybe even a little too good—looking very empty now, sweetheart. What do you think we oughta do about that?”

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller/reader #kinktober #kinktober 2023

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pixiemunsons · 2 years

Note

hiii what about steve harrington x reader where steve with all of the girls he slept before he can't manage to cum -like he only cums when he's alone and like it feels kinda humiliating to him to cum in front of someone bc he's really noisy and it's reader's first time and she manage to make him cum 👀

stop the world (i wanna get off with you) sh

stevie learns that sometimes, you just gotta let go (3.1k words)

anon i'm so sorry i missed the part where u said first time however it is their first time together. my first steve fic!! also don't usually write dom!reader so v new for me. thank u for requesting<3 this is set sort of between s2 and 3

light sub!steve/dom!reader, caretaking, handjobs, vulnerable/embarrassed steve, mentions of him sleeping w other girls but no jealousy, first orgasm w a partner, p in v sex, gentle sex, lots of sweet talking and reassurance, this is a very sweet little thing w very very little angst. no use of y/n or appearance description. no spoilers

‘sorry, can you say that again?’

steve blushed bright red, running a hand through his messy hair as you stared at him, wide mouthed.

‘baby, please, it’s so humiliating!’ he threw his head back into the pillow, hiding his hot face in his hands, and it took almost all of your strength to gently prise his fingers away from his eyes.

‘no, s’not. just wanna make sure i heard you properly.’

steve sighed deeply, looking at you tentatively.

‘no one else has ever been able to make me cum before, just myself. happy now?’

───

when king steve harrington had first asked you on a date, you thought he was joking. you’d barely ever spoken at school; helped him get through a bio test once when he was in junior year and you were a sophomore taking an advanced class, but outside of that, you’d barely interacted.

that is, until you had nipped over to jonathan byers’ house to drop him and his mother a tray of mac and cheese and ask how the search for will was going and had found him, nancy and steve beating the shit out of an alien.

it had all sort of snowballed from there, really. nancy and steve started dating again not long after the incident, before she bounced on over to byers, and while you were really happy for your friends, it had been you that was left to pick up the broken pieces of steve harrington’s heart. well, you and the ragtag bunch of thirteen-year-olds that you had sort of acquired over time. you learnt a lot about steve over the months you spent together; he was a serial dater, though they never seemed to go anywhere - despite the girls seemingly chasing him for weeks after he’d turned them down. he loved ice cream and cheesy rom-coms and the songs from west side story. steve harrington liked driving the kids around, even when he denied it, and listening to dustin talk about d&d, and so it turned out, he really, really liked you.

he’d asked you to go on three dates before you started to believe that he really wanted you like that, and even then he’d had to ask twice more before you agreed to go. you had heard he was a bit of a fuck ‘em and chuck ‘em kinda guy, and the dynamic you’d built up wasn’t something you were willing to ruin for a quick fumble; even if you had heard that said fumbles were nothing short of magnificent. he’d done things properly though; picked you up and opened the car door for you, told your mother he’d have you home on time, taken you to enzo’s, the nicest place in town. he’d made you laugh with his stories all night, ignoring the way other patrons looked at you, and when you reached for the cheque at the end of the night he had brushed you off as if you asking was an insult in and of itself. and then he’d taken you home fifteen minutes before curfew and asked you permission before pressing a chaste kiss to your lips, driving away and leaving you leaning breathless against your front door.

being with steve was a lot different to how you expected it might be. it was just like before, really, doing everything together like best friends. but you caught the way he looked at you now, really looked at you like no one else did. saw how he took in every scar, every mark and cherished it, loved it as a part of you. and even though you hadn’t quite said those words yet, hadn’t quite taken it there, you knew it was true for both of you. there were other things about steve that you hadn’t expected, either; how his room was still the blue colour he’d painted it at twelve, how he could cook a really decent spaghetti. and how, five months into your relationship, he’d never taken it further than making out.

you hadn’t intended to get onto the conversation. you were just talking about how tommy and carol were hooking up again even after their latest break up, and steve had said he thought tommy was dating paula morgan from their graduating class, and about how steve’d gone on a date with her once and she’d left a hickey so big he had to tell his folks he got hit with a volleyball in gym. you knew there was a reason paula kept giving you the shit-eye when you went into the grocery store where she worked.

‘tellin’ you, i got off lucky! danny rogers, you know from the year above me? he told me once that she gave him a handy and twisted it so hard he was bruised for weeks! scared me off of her for life.’

you laughed, half thinking as he spoke. he had hooked up with loads of girls at school, you knew that, but the more you two spoke about your histories the more you were finding out; secret rendezvous' with girls under the bleachers, in the back of his car. he’d even confessed that he let sheila richards give him a blowjob in mr davies’ empty maths classroom. but it’d been months and the most the two of you had done was heavy petting over the clothes and making out before he’d push you gently away to get back to whatever movie you’d rented that weekend, even if you could feel how hard he was under his jeans. you hadn’t really meant to bring it up at that point, but surely it was better to tell him how you were feeling?

so you’d asked what was going on, and he’d stared at you for so long you thought you might burst into flames of embarrassment, desperately worried you’d said the wrong thing, when he came out with a whisper so tiny you almost didn’t hear it.

almost.

───

‘but-but what about all the other girls? you’ve been getting it left right and centre by every girl in your year, and i’ve certainly never heard any of them complaining.’

steve looked at you and drew a deep breath, shrugging his shoulders.

‘no, babe, they’ve been getting it from me. i mean, i’ve had a few… favours, but i’ve just never, like, finished. i find an excuse, like that i can hear someone coming or whatever, and then i go home and… sort myself out.’

‘so, you can come? just not when other people try?’

he nodded his head, seemingly more calm now that it was out there in the open.

‘is it a physical thing, you think? or a mental block?’

steve shrugged his shoulders again.

‘bit of both, maybe? i think part of it is that i’ve never been that bothered about cumming? i know it sounds silly, but i’m not usually in the sex for myself, and when you end up with a reputation like mine, you gotta find a way of keepin’ it up. so i just do what i need’a do to get her there, then deal with myself later.’ he felt silly now that he said it aloud, wringing his fingers in front of him. it had been part of the reason he’d never moved on you; he was too worried you’d think he didn’t find you attractive, didn’t want you, and the thought killed him.

‘you ever fucked someone you really care about, before, stevie? who really cares about you?’

he looked up at the change of tone in your voice, and saw that you were climbing up his body so your faces were level. he was going red again, gulping as you leaned down over him.

’n-no? never.’

you cocked your head to the side, frowning. ‘what about nance?’ steve shook his head solemnly.

‘no, w-we never… what are you doing, babe?’ he asked as you crawled onto his lap, thighs now either side of his hips.

‘stevie, i think the reason you were never bothered is because they weren’t. they just wanted to fuck the king, have a piece of him. but i don’t want the king.’ you laid a soft kiss on his lips, smiling as you pulled away and steve followed you for more. ‘i want steve harrington. and i wanna make him feel good. y’gonna let me do that?’ you were almost purring, playing with the hem of his t-shirt, and steve couldn’t even find the words to express how he felt other than god, baby, yes please.

you started by kissing him real, real slow. moved your lips over his languidly, tongue running gently over the seam of his lips in soft, caressing strokes that had his head spinning and his chin jutting forward for more. his mouth opened, and you slipped yourself in, running your tongue over his own. steve moaned gently into the kiss, grinding his hips up into yours, and you pushed them back down gently.

‘not yet, baby, tryna make this good for you. just calm down, take it slow. we got all the time in the world.’ he hummed against your mouth, settling his hips down while his hands explored your body slowly. you sat with him like this for a little while; one hand playing with his hair whilst the other sat on his stomach, pressing tender smooches to his lips, his nose, his cheeks, ears, forehead, eyes, until eventually you worked a trail of lip gloss down his neck. your teeth came out at the base of his throat, only gently, marking him inconspicuously as yours, and he almost whimpered under you.

it wasn’t often that you took your time with steve. it was hard to show your appreciation for him sexually when he was always resisting, refusing to let you in. so you were definitely having a lot of fun taking your time tonight. you stripped him of his t-shirt, straddling his hips and feeling his hard cock pressed against you through both of your jeans as you leant forward. your lips shifted from his neck to his chest, nipping at his collarbones as you moved down his stomach.

‘stevie, y’ so pretty,’ you whispered from his happy trail, nose nudging at the curls that lay there as he whined under you.

‘you’re so beautiful, babe, so gorgeous.’ his hand dropped from his chest to your face, stroking at your cheek gently with a thumb. you turned to kiss his fingertips gently, and he moaned when you took the very tip of his index finger into your mouth and sucked gently.

‘’m gonna get you all ready for me, stevie, use my hand and get you worked up, then i’m gonna get on top like you like it and make you feel good. no pressure, if y’can’t cum it’s all good, we’ll just try again when you’re ready. i jus’ want you to know you’re safe with me, nothin’ bad’s gonna happen, i’m gonna take good care of you, yeah?’ you were running your fingers over the top of his jeans, dipping into his boxers ever so gently, and he nodded, fingers grabbing for your t-shirt.

‘yeah, but can you take this off, too? please? don’t wanna be the only one sat here naked,’ he half-chuckled, half-moaned when you stripped the garment away, bra following so you were clad in your jeans alone.

‘can you go in the drawer, babe, get the lube please?’ you asked sweetly, and he passed it down with a kiss pressed to the top of your head. you manoeuvred your position so you were sat facing steve, his face level with your boobs as you straddled his thighs, giving you enough room to pull him out of his jeans and boxers. and, wow, was he hard. and big. his red tip was leaking, almost painful looking, and you pumped some of the lube into your right hand before rubbing it together in your palm, warming it up. he let out a hiss when you finally made contact, hips bucking up into your palm. you simply eased him back down again, pressing a kiss to the bicep of his right arm.

‘shh, baby, i said i got you. how do you usually like it?’

steve cocked his head to the side, blushing red. ‘what do you mean?’

‘you said you make yourself cum,’ you grabbed his hand, guiding it on top of yours. ‘so show me how you do that. maybe it’ll help you relax a little.’ he was nervous, you could tell, so you kissed him gently on the mouth, nodding gently to encourage him. slowly, his hand tightened your own around his cock, moving at a much slower pace than you anticipated he’d like. not that you minded; having him show you how intimately, gently, he liked to be touched was getting you wet, and it was taking a lot to keep your mind on the task quite literally at hand.

steve removed his hand once you seemed to be getting the hang of it, letting his head flop back against the pillows behind him.

‘o-oh, baby, just like that,’ he was writhing under you, leg bouncing up between your thighs in a way that made them clench. steve noticed, reaching out to touch you, but you carefully brushed his hand away.

‘not right now, stevie. we’re gonna think about you for now, we can worry about me later, ’s okay,’ you whispered up at him, flicking your thumb over the very head of him and watching as his head dropped back once more, eyes rolling into his head.

‘f-fuck, that’s so… fuck.’ he seemed to be relaxing, finally, letting you make him feel like he deserved for the first time.

‘you’re doin’ so good f’me, babe. such a good boy,’ you hummed, and steve’s fingers were white knuckled and wound into the bedsheets. he moaned, high-pitched and needy, and the sound went right between your legs.

‘’m gonna c-cum, babe, fuck, stop,’ he whimpered, and you cocked an eyebrow.

‘why stop? everything okay?’

‘wanna- fuck, wanna cum in you.’ his words sent a shiver down your spine, and you swallowed the moan making its way to the surface.

‘you sure? you won’t lose it if i stop now?’

steve shook his head vehemently, pushing your hand away from his leaking cock and reaching to undo your jeans, yanking them down to your knees. you leant forward to kiss him, gently pushing his arms back to his sides.

‘there’s no rush, steve, we can take our time. here, keep touching yourself f’me. there you go baby, just like that.’ you stripped yourself slowly, pushing your lace underwear down your hips and kicking them off with your jeans so you were bare in front of him. you’d usually be nervous, first time a boy saw you like that, but steve? he was something different. his hand was pumping up and down his cock just like he’d shown you he liked it, eyelids drooping as he revered your naked form above him.

‘want me on top? or d’you wanna do it?’

steve groaned again. he had no idea how he’d managed to swing you, but right now, he definitely wasn’t complaining. ‘can you do it, babe, please?’

his puppy dog eyes were so disarming, so loving, you couldn’t help but to lean forward and run a thumb over his lips, watching as he ran the very tip of his tongue over the pad of your digit.

‘i just want you to know that there’s no pressure, honey. if it doesn’t happen, we don’t force it, we try until you wanna stop and then we try another time, okay?’ the concern in your eyes had him almost in tears, so he just nodded as you lowered yourself onto him for the first time.

the sting was uncomfortable but not unwelcome, his thick cock stretching you out just enough for it to hurt whilst still feeling good. you moaned together when you finally had him all the way down to his thick base, buried so deep you could feel it everywhere.

‘’m not gonna last long, sweetheart,’ steve grunted, hips meeting yours mid-thrust and you couldn’t bring yourself to stop him, not when he was bumping up against a spot that had you seeing stars.

‘stevie, so good, so fuckin’ big and perfect for me,’ you were half-crying on his cock, trying to keep a rhythm going.

‘where d’you - fuck - want it? s’comin’ babe,’ steve was grunting through gritted teeth, and you just had time to cry out ‘stomach, shit’ when he was pulling out, head poking out from his hand as he fisted his cock, warm splashes of cum spurting out to paint your tummy.

‘oh baby, oh my love, fuck, so good!’ steve was almost shouting through his orgasm from under you, and he was the most beautiful person you’d ever met. head thrown back, hair messy, chest red and mouth forming an o as he rode his orgasm out in his hand. you were still hovering above him, up on your knees, when he covered his face with his hands once more.

‘stevie, what’s wrong?’ you asked, worried you’d taken it too far. he peeked out from between his fingers, eyeing you.

‘that was so loud, s'embarrassing,’ he whispered, and you pulled his hands from his face like you had not half an hour earlier.

‘you kidding? that was so hot!’

‘shut up, don’t be a dick.’

‘steve, i’m being serious!’ he peered over at you, intrigued, as you started ranting. ‘fuck, i can’t believe i’m the first person to see you like that! i mean, i’m glad i was, because holy shit, that was a religious fucking experience!’ the look of wonder on your face soon became something a little more teasing. ‘i can’t wait to make you do that again.’

it was your turn to be surprised when steve looped his arms around your thighs, yanking you forward so you were still on your knees, now situated with your pussy directly over his mouth. a smirk spread across steve’s face at the look of wonder on your own.

‘well, not right now, you won’t sweetheart.’

he pressed a trail of kisses down your right inner thigh, short nails scraping at the skin of your ass.

‘you’ve shown me what a good job you can do. now it’s time to show you what i’m famous for, baby.’

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asuyaka · 1 month

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could we get nsfw/kink hcs for nami and robin with a dom!male s/o? preferably just the headcanons without the mini-scenario. please and thank you!!!

★ - ewueueuwuew— m'finally off break !! (creamed the second m'saw this btw)

☆ - Sub! Nico Robin & "Cat Burglar" Nami x Dom Male S/O!

♡ - m'not good with nsfw scenes in general, so forgive me if its bad! Also, sorry s'so short, m'tryin ta get back 'nto writin,,

Robin loves it when you take control!

Havin' to be the unofficial caretaker of the Strawhats is very taxing, especially when their captain has the attention span of an orange cat.

She loves melting in your arms, loves it when you praise her and worship every bit of her, loves it when you hold and kiss her as if she's the only woman you care about!

She's into anything under the praise aspect. She also loves giving you pleasure, in any way that you need.

Having a devil fruit like she does is very useful in bed!

Brat, brat, and brat.

Sometimes it's on accident (SOMEHOW), and sometimes she acts like a brat just to piss you off.

She's good with her mouth and likes it when you make her work to earn her pleasure.

Tit-fucking is a common occurrence between you two. The feeling of your cock sliding between her chest, and how blissed out you look while doing it can send her to cloud nine alone.

Aftercare with you two is filled with light banter, soft kisses, and orange flyaways on your face.

#writin' shit.#ANSWERED LETTERS — 014 #★: anon!#one piece x male reader #nico robin #nami #cat burglar nami #nico robin x male reader #nami x male reader #x male reader #x dom male reader #robin x male reader #nami x reader #robin x reader #nico robin x reader #cat burglar nami x reader #male reader #one piece

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olderthannetfic · 1 month

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I just got a comment saying I should have tagged for dom/sub undertones and I'm a little confused. In canon, this guy always bosses his wife around re: doing shit that's healthy for her - napping, drinking water, remembering to eat more than once a day, getting more than 3 hours of sleep - and she lovingly calls him "Boss Man" as a nickname because of it. On some occasions where she's gone more than a day without eating he'll swipe her phone and order her to eat before she gets it back, something she always seems to find endearing. There's a lot of 'I didn't mean to worry you', 'you're worth worrying about, now here's your favorite homemade walnut bread' stuff, all there in canon, just lifted from canon and transplanted into my fic.

Is this dom/sub stuff? I'm aroace so I've never been in a relationship, but I assumed "take care of yourself" "I will but I will call you a silly nickname over it" was regular relationship stuff. Or is it that the frequency of it makes it dom/sub stuff, and I'm just not grasping that because my neurodivergency is making me not read the social cues correctly? I was only recently diagnosed but this has been a problem for a long time, the whole line between normal and abnormal behavior, so I thought I'd ask you. You're much more well-read than I am and know a lot more about shipping dynamics and how they're tagged. I feel like you're an expert whose opinion carries a lot of conclusions-informed-by-knowledge and so your take could help me figure this out.

People who are doms or subs or write them, if you have a guide on this stuff, that'd be cool, too. I want to educate myself more so I know if I should tag something. After all, I can't get my story to people who want to read it if it doesn't show up in the tags they're searching for. Readers aren't mindreaders. It's on me to make sure they can get ahold of the things they're looking for. I just need to work around my own ADHD-addled brain to do it.

I think this is the usual pattern of demanding silly tags that would only make sense in that reader's own bookmarks.

Yes, caretaking and food control of various kinds can be a part of BDSM. No, your description of canon does not make it sound like this has obvious undertones.

Readers are going to have different interpretations. It's possible that other readers would agree with this one. I have my doubts. I suspect they're projecting. But sure, maybe other people would think there was some of that vibe.

However, if you did not intend the fic to read this way, I would not add the tag. This is not what the fic is about.

As for what this kind of thing can look like when it is intended as a dom/sub activity, the movie Secretary has a bunch of examples. She calls him on the phone to tell him what her family's dinner looks like that night; he gives her instructions about which things she can eat how much of. The way she acts while making that phone call makes it clear it's an exciting game to her. Another time, he tells her she's not allowed to cut herself anymore: he will provide what she needs.

Even if the characters are being playful, just nagging someone to do basic self care doesn't really come across as this. It's more charged when it's an intentional power exchange thing.

It's more like... hmm... if you and a friend agreed to LARP as characters for a day. Even if you were acting fairly normal and doing things you'd often do anyway, there would be this added extra vibe to it that someone who knew you well could probably detect.

It's not so much about the specific behaviors: it's about the extra meaning those people ascribe to them. If it doesn't seem like the canon characters think of this caretaking any specific way and you, as the fic author, don't see it that way, then I don't think it will generally read as a dom/sub thing to most readers.

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earlofbats · 11 months

Text

Okay so because this post about Harry being a bottom I'm going to give a genuine dissertation on the thematic relevance of sub Harry and maybe a little bit about dom Kim.

First I wanna establish the "Harry is definitely a subby little bottom boy" and is also definitely Bi and probably has some sorta fucking complex about it.

Evidence A. Contact Mike, Guillaume Le Million, Measurehead (when fascist).

Harry tends to idolize and gravitate towards extremely masculine figures.

This is probably due to a reflexive need to feel masculine and have masculine role models in the face of elements of identity that are seen as unmasculine by society and have become exacerbated by the breakup which had to be pretty emasculating for Harry.

Also :

Imma start a Harry's Kink counter here +1 light bondage.

+1 auto-erotic asphyxiation.

Uhm +1 uhh,Spanking? Additional +1 for being what I think is most possibly the horniest thought you have in the game also:

+1 Kim is a Dom.

I think Harry has kept his attraction to men or his desires about men fairly low key for his entire life. The way he conceptualizes Homosexuality in general as an "underground" society filled with whispering rooms and forbidden secrets is likely more of a reflection of how Harry views his own sexuality than how Queer culture is manifest in Revachol. (In reference to the way both Kim and The Smoker kinda laugh Harry about it)

The organizational element of the idea being likely reflective of the way internalization is akin to paranoia.

Harry is also extremely intimacy starved and I think part of that is due to an unmet need for affection and the desire to be taken care of. That masculinity and status as both a survivor and an oppressor was sorta thrust onto Harry, he was born the last year of the war on a hospital floor, given a name associated with war time and survival, grew up probably in a little street urchin gang, got into *Disco* (man I'm sure Harry brushed elbows with the underground then.) Was a gym teacher a good balance between masculinity and caretaker and guardian something that harry clearly excels at and enjoys. Then Dora encouraged him to be a cop for unknown reasons perhaps prestige, money, because Harry has a bleeding heart.

Engage Heterosexual Cop hell for 12 years then an additional 6 single Cop hell years.

And now you're like :

Another element is Harry's tendency to worship and diefy his partners which like man that's gotta be the subbiest fucking thing you can do. I honestly can't articulate all of the reasons why that's just extreme bottom behavior.

Harry is an empathic jelly creature who is forced to handle a job with dead people in it all day and has created this reflexive hyper masculine obsession to compensate for his perceived inadequacy in not living up to the patriarchal capitalist ideal of what's supposed to be his birthright as a well off, able bodied, 'straight', occidental, man.

Except the actual issue is that Harry is mostly perceived or perceiving himself as that, when in reality he's in clear conflict with his actual identity as a Poor, mentally Ill, bisexual, occidental, man.

And it's those last two that end up kind of making this smoke screen to Harrys deficiency in privilege. He can mask or hide behind being an Occidental Man.

Can buddy buddy with patriarchy and take up the idea of a Big Strong Manly Cop.

Something that Kim also seems to be doing by seeking out positions of authority he can compensate for the disrespect he gets as a Poor, blind, gay, seolite, man.

Last of which probably won't get him far because of how "juvenile" his body type is.

Kim can't really coast on patriarchy much the way Harry can. He has to work twice as hard cuz there's not a lot he can hide behind.

Pursuit for control in the face of denial

Shielding ones self behind control as a means of denial.

Dom/Sub dichotomy.

#disco elysium #kim kitsuragi #harry du bois #kimharry #harrykim #harrier du bois #harryxkim #its a sexuality dissertation bby

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thekaykery · 9 months

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I recently addicted to ur taehyung fic (little and the beast) god I loved the couple like how adorable their relationship was so maybe can you do for the same couple or an individual tae x reader smut where OC is his girlfriend and she secretly planned to tease tae by wearing bunny cosplay lingerie and asks him to fuck her in that outfit which she looks so cute as well as hot and tae immediately giving in his pretty girl's wish 🥺🥺💗

This is my first ever ask so pls ignore if it's cringe or whatever lol

yes ofc!!! tsym for loving little and the beast! this one's for you ❤️

honey bunny

pairing: kim taehyung x f!reader

category: smut, fluff

word count: 2.3k

rating: 21+

warning(s): ddlg, daddy dom!taehyung, little sub!f!reader, bunny costume, destruction of said costume, pet names, daddy kink, cursing, teasing, begging, dirty talk, nipple play, fingering, allusion to choking, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap), praise, aftercare, mentions of squirting and passing out from said squirting

notes: again, tsym for requesting this! ik this took forever but life grew hectic bc of college! ty for your patience! p.s. what a good time to release this with layover amirite-

You don’t know if this is a good idea.

Purchasing this… gift with Taehyung’s card was risky enough. Yes, he’s able to see the Amazon charge in his account and know it was you. Yes, he likes to ask what you buy. Yes, you tried your best to hide this in a spot where Taehyung doesn’t normally look. Really, you’ve just been waiting for the opportunity to take it out and wow him.

And today is the day.

Gazing in the mirror at your reflection, you run a hand over the sleek white leather costume. Cinched at the waist, it emphasizes your hips and bum, and the cups do little justice to contain your breasts. You paired fishnet tights, wrist cuff sleeves, and a collar with the costume, along with a bunny ears headband; white stilettos top off the outfit. You even put on some makeup: black liner, mascara, blood-red lipstick.

Although you know it’s all going to come off with your tears and spit, you wanted to be pretty, look pretty for Taehyung.

However, this seemed like a good idea at first, but now you’re second-guessing yourself.

As your dom and caretaker, Taehyung is accustomed to seeing you in cute, frilly clothing, since you’re in little space more often than not. So you don’t know how your boyfriend is going to react. The least he can do is like it, right?

He doesn’t have to love it. You just want to… surprise him.

The familiar sound of the front door opening and closing catches your attention. Your hands become clammy. You scurry to the bed and lay down, stretching along the blankets, which are soft against your skin. Footsteps approach, growing louder with each one, then–

"Jesus Christ."

You shyly peek at your boyfriend. Taehyung stares at you, utterly divine in loose beige pants and a garnet tee tucked into the waistband, his dirty-blond hair swept back away from his face. His brown eyes are wide with shock, knuckles white from his tight grip on the doorknob. You carefully roll over, exposing your chest, and his throat bobs.

“Hi,” you murmur, smiling a little.

He doesn’t reply straight away, obviously stupefied by your costume. “What’s this?” he croaks.

“Do you like it, Daddy?” you quietly ask him, swinging your legs over the edge of the bed and standing. Your heels click on the hardwood floor as you step towards him. “I got it for you.”

Another gulp. Taehyung drifts to you, enchanted. “You look…” His slender fingers curl around your waist. He sharply exhales, eyes unable to stay still. “Fuck, you look so pretty, babygirl.”

"Thank you," you whisper.

His touch is fire, burning through the costume and branding his fingerprints into your skin. Your eyes flutter when his hands trail up to your breasts, caressing them, your sensitive nipples rubbing against the leather. You bite your lip to contain a mewl, heat flooding your cheeks as Taehyung tugs the cups out of the way. He plays with your rosy buds, rolling and pinching them between his fingers, bolts of arousal shooting straight to your pussy.

“So this is what you bought that day,” Taehyung softly says, almost to himself, tugging at your nipples.

“Please,” you pant, jolting when he pinches a bud.

A ghost of a smirk. "Please what?"

You swallow, trembling. "Please fuck me."

Taehyung chuckles. He pinches your other nipple, drawing a whine from you. "You can do better than that, sweetheart."

You pout, eyes dropping in embarrassment. You dislike voicing your needs. He should know what you want by the way you react to his teasing, but that’s what Taehyung likes. The power he holds over you as your dom. He wants you to express your thoughts, tell him exactly just what you want.

It reminds him how much you trust him with yourself, submitting to his every touch and kiss, handing over your body to do as he pleases with it.

“Fuck me, Daddy,” you whine, shivering, head tilting back as Taehyung mouths kisses on your throat. “Please. N-Need you so bad. I-I don’t are what you do to the costume, just please fuck me.”

Taehyung chuckles, the low sound a sweet caress. “Alright, babygirl. Anything for you.”

A few seconds later, you’re on the bed again, this time with Taehyung crawling on top of you. He slots between your legs as your lips meet in a slow, passionate kiss. You quietly moan when his hands cup your tits, calloused fingertips digging into them. The stark comparison of his rough fingers on your smooth skin is arousing. Your eyes roll, bucking your hips up into his hand while he strokes your hot center over the costume, his tongue slipping into your mouth and dancing with your own. You grasp his shoulders for support, a little wail escaping you when Taehyung rips the costume at the seams.

“Daddy!” you whine, heart aching at the loss of your costume.

“What?” His eyes sparkle with mischief. “Just doing what my babydoll wants.”

You open your mouth to retort, to remind him you bought this costume with his money, but the thought disappears the second Taehyung glides a finger through your folds. You quietly moan, pressing your lips together when he easily locates your clit and rubs quick, little circles on it. You swallow, rocking into his touch all while his eyes burn into you.

That’s another thing Taehyung loves in this dynamic with you: Watching you squirm beneath him from pleasure and your orgasms. It doesn’t matter if you seek from his mouth, touch, or cock. He adores the view of you experiencing total euphoria because of him, and it’s even better because he’s the only one who gets to see you like this. His precious girl, all his to love and care for in every way possible. But he knows you secretly like it too, watching him get off on you getting off.

“Daddy, please,” you plead, your hand sliding down to his arm from his shoulder. “Fuck me.”

Taehyung merely hums, his eyes dark and gleaming as he sips a long finger inside you. You whimper, your legs trying to snap shut, but his body stops it from occurring. He pumps it in and out of you at a steady pace, listening to you whine and moan, observing the way you writhe in bliss.

“How badly do you want it, babe?” Taehyung rasps, deep voice husky with lust. He rests his forehead on yours, your breaths mixing while more noises spill out of you. “Huh? How badly do you want Daddy’s cock? Tell me, babygirl.”

“Please!” you cry out, back arching when the pad of his finger brushes over your sweet spot. “O-Oh, fuck yes, please–”

“W-Want it so bad!” you sob, tears stained black from your liner and mascara. “Please, please, fill me up until I can’t think of anything but you!” You squeal, your entrance burning slightly from the intrusion of a second digit, but it feels so fucking good. “P-Please, fuck me up with your big cock, please!”

Taehyung smirks. “That’s a good girl."

While he continues to finger you, Taehyung miraculously shucks off his pants and boxers, cock springing free from its confinements. You lick your lips at the sight of him. Long and girthy, slightly curved with a bulbous tip, veins ridging it, the prominent one crawling up to his frenulum like a tree. You pant in anticipation as Taehyung sits between your legs once more, clenching around nothing when he taps his cock on your drenched pussy.

You’re so deep in your own little world that you don’t even notice him removing his shirt. You grind up against his dick, whining, clit singing at the friction.

“Want Daddy’s cock so bad, don’t you?” Taehyung coos.

You eagerly nod. “Yes, please!”

“Let me hear it one more time, baby.”

You keen, clutching the sheets in your hands, a lump of frustration growing in your throat. Damn him and his teasing. “Please, fuck me, Daddy.”

“Good girl,” Taehyung purrs, and finally, after what felt like endless torture, he enters you. He hisses. “Fuck, so fucking tight...”

You, on the other hand, are in complete bliss, eyes shut in ecstasy. He fills you up little by little, sinking further and further into you until he’s fully seated within you. Your eyes roll at how full you feel, his pelvis pressed to your core, his balls flush with your second hole. You softly pant, shifting in your spot beneath Taehyung, your walls rhythmically clenching around him. This spurs him into action.

He starts slow, one deep stroke after another. You quietly curse, and Taehyung lowly groans, the sound causing you to clamp down around him again.

“Fuck, relax,” Taehyung croaks.

“F-Feels so good,” you whimper.

“I know, baby.”

Your head falls back on the bed, a little whine slipping out of you, your tits bouncing in time with Taehyung’s gentle tempo. You hook your knees to your chest, allowing him more room to work. He lovingly pets your thighs in thanks. Taehyung grunts, nibbling his lip, his hair falling in his face. God, he looks like a god above you like this, completely drunk on your pussy, just like you’re drunk on his cock.

“Go faster,” you plead. “Please.”

“Yeah?” Taehyung picks up the pace, assuming a medium tempo. “Like this?”

You whine and shake your head. “Faster!”

“Be specific, darling.” His hand ghosts over your throat, which has your walls fluttering around his cock. His fingers always make a pretty necklace when Taehyung’s in the mood.

“F-Fuck me until I can’t think straight,” you beg, lightly grasping his wrist. “Please, Daddy.”

“That’s better.” Soon, Taehyung bucks into you with the manner of a well-oiled machine, quick and precise, hips smacking against your ass. He grunts, holding your legs for you while you cradle your tits for emotional support. “This what you wanted, babydoll? Hm?”

“Yes!” you cry, pinching and pulling at your nipples. “F-Fuck yes, Daddy, oh my god!”

Taehyung breathlessly chuckles at your confirmation, using your words as encouragement. He adjusts his angle slightly, along with the depth of his thrusts, and a loud wail is ripped out of you. He smirks. Bingo. Taehyung continues at this position, tip bludgeoning your sweet spot repeatedly. You shriek, eyes crossing, stars speckling your vision. You can’t even talk anymore, rendered speechless by his cock.

He melted your brain. He always does.

The sensation of his cock deliciously gliding against your throbbing walls is addicting, creating a high only your pussy adores. The veiny ridges provide a pleasant catch along your molten core, the lip of his tip adding to it, perfectly hitting that spongy part within you again and again. Your toes curl in your heels, and because of Taehyung’s godly pace, one of them falls off, bouncing on the bed and clattering to the floor. The other one joins it in courtesy of Taehyung.

“Gonna fuckin’ pump you full of my cum,” Taehyung grunts, curling up and hovering above you, forearms situated by your head. His pace becomes stilted, signaling his approaching end. “Until it leaks out of you, babygirl.”

You simply moan, which has him laughing. “Did I fuck my girl dumb? You’re so cute.”

Despite his impending doom, it doesn’t stop Taehyung from fucking you with fervor. No, he keeps going, pistoning into you, operating like a jackhammer.

“D-Daddy,” you croak, clawing at his ribs. The icy burn you’ve learned to love has begun to creep up on you, body trembling in expectation. Fuck, you’re so close. “‘M-M gonna cum.”

Taehyung groans. “Yeah? Gonna make a giant mess on my cock?”

“U-Uh huh!”

He hisses, brows furrowing in determination. Jaw clenching, Taehyung vigorously pounds into you, fingers tangling in the sheets by your head. Your noises rise in volume as your orgasm speed towards you like a bullet train, closer and closer until–

You scream, back arching like a bow, your soul dropping into the pool of euphoria waiting to embrace you. You loudly moan as its fingers caress you, stroking the most intimate parts of you while your pussy paints Taehyung’s cock white, not even aware of the clear liquid splashing all over the two of you. You sink deep into that pool, ascending into spaces you’ve never reached before. Your eyes grow heavy, and your hearing is reduced to a high-pitched ringing.

You shut your eyes to rest for a few seconds, just to wholeheartedly enjoy euphoria’s touch. However, when you wake, you discover you’ve been tucked under the blankets. You frown and sit up, only to pause at the feeling of cloth on your body. You glance at yourself. You’re no longer in the costume; rather, in a large oversized tee.

What the hell?

“You’re awake.”

At his voice, you seeks him out. He enters the bedroom with a bowl of your favorite snack and a glass of water.

“What happened?” you quietly ask him.

His lips stretch into a smug smirk. “You squirted. Hard. Then you passed out, but I cleaned you up and made sure you were comfortable.” He offers you the snack and water. “I bring refreshments.”

Your cheeks flare with heated embarrassment. “I-I passed out? From squirting?"

“Yup.” Taehyung chuckles, crawling into bed beside you. “It was pretty hot, not gonna lie. I came on your tummy instead of inside you like I wanted, but it’s okay. Your health and safety comes first.”

You shyly sip your water, leaning back on the pillow. “Did you like it, at least?”

“Hm?” Taehyung peeks at you. “Like what?"

You bashfully divert your gaze. “The outfit.”

A low chuckle. “I loved it, baby. You looked so pretty in it while I fucked you, and those tights… Goddamn.”

You quietly giggle, bowing your head, your hair falling and curtaining your red face. Taehyung brushes it behind your ear. “I loved it, babydoll.”

“Really?” You peek at him.

“Mhmm.” Taehyung twines an arm around your waist, tugging you close. “If you order another costume next time, tell me. I wanna see you put it on.”

“N-Next time?”

“Oh, baby.” Another chuckle rumbles in his throat. He presses a kiss to your ear. “There’s always a next time with you.”

#bts #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #bts v #kim taehyung #kim taehyung smut #kim taehyung angst #kim taehyung fluff #tae smut #tae angst #tae fluff #code word: elysia

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gloriouspower · 1 year

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Hey can you write natasha x reader with the prompts 23, 32, 33, 39 thanks

A/n : it's smutt y'all minors stay the fuck away , alright? I gave my warning so let's proceed

Show me ✯

Pairing : Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary : our sweetheart nat gets jelly over a man flirting with us, so she takes matters in her own hands

Mine 🖤

Warning : smutt, fingering, edging, orgasm denial, jealousy, soft dom nat, sub reader, established relationship.

Word count : 1.5k not proof read.

Note : I'm so sorry for taking this long, my laptop broke and I had to get it fixed so so sorry, here I completed this so fast my god 😭

"word" - dialogue

I sat by the counter with a glass of negroni in my hand while this man, who's name i forgot long ago, kept blabbering in front of me, i needed more than just negroni to deal with this good for nothing shit bag, i sighed internally and gave him a smile on whatever he was talking about, why was I doing this? Well being the caretaker of Avengers came with pros and cons and this was being a HUGE con in my ass.

After pepper stepped up as the stark industries CEO, i interviewed for the caretaker replacement and to my pure shock i got it, it's been 5 years after that, now I'm stuck here in another extravagant tony stark Saturday party he hosts, which i absolutely hate but organize it for him anyway, if i remember vaguely, this man was talking about sponsorship and in any way do we need sponsors right now, because i didn't wanted to come off rude i sat talking to him, which , right now, is giving me a migraine in my right temple.

"So you see, that was my idea, and maybe we can discuss some more about this tomorrow at coffee? My treat " he said smirking, placing his hand on mine, i pulled back but he held it strongly and i was getting uncomfortable, he had made several advances in the "5 minutes" he requested from me, that turned out to be an hour, but i declined them all, and was about to do it again but someone beat me to it "I'm quite sure, she said no multiple times before or are you specially deaf for the word 'no'?" Relief instantly floods in me as i hear Natasha speak, God did i want to get out of here, he looked scared for a moment before he speaks out of pure idiocy "i was asking her, and i don't take no for an answer, so i do not see why you are interfering in between us" and he had the audacity to slip his arm past my waist, i recoiled back, pushing him away but natasha didn't hold back and punched him in the face, that idiot fell to the ground, hitting his head on the hard floor, stumbling to stand up, blood ran down his nose as he blabbered " you bitch, how dare you! Do you know who I am? Fucking bitch" nat just rolled her eyes " i don't give half a fuck who you are, touch my girlfriend again and i won't just stop at a punch" with that she grabbed my wrist, pulling me away, the crowd was staring at the scene we just made, that included tony, who was giving nat thumbs up.

The crowd parted for us and by the time we got to the stairs, nat threw me over her shoulder as i awkwardly smiled at the onlookers, tony was laughing his ass off, when we finally got to our room, she placed me on our bed while looking down at me, i pouted " you didn't have to punch him you know?" She scoffed at that. I propped myself up on my elbows. "I didn't like the way he was staring at you" I laughed as she went to grab something from the cupboard " how do you know?" She turned around trying to form words but nothing came out "umm.. I was looking" It sounded more like a question than an answer but then it hit me and I gasped loudly " were you checking me out?" Her denials fell on deaf ears as I gushed over her, finally I spoke coherent words "were you jealous?" She rolled her eyes at that but i didn't let it fool me, she was jealous, when he was making those advances, heat rushed to my cheeks and southwards as it gave me a weird thrill, she finally replied, pulling me close to her, she already changed into different clothes while i was still in my black cocktail dress " so what? Nobody looks at what's mine in a wrong way, let alone touch you" I blushed, she leaned down kissing the base of my throat, automatically her hand traveling down to my hips. "Oh yeah?" My voice came out much breathier than expected, she cocked an eyebrow up, a devilish smile forming on her face " show me you're mine" and as if on command my hips bucked against hers, she crashed her lips against mine, as ecstasy shot through me.

Nats nimble fingers untied the knots of my dress, pulling down the zip in one fluid motion while her mouth left trails of hickies blooming on my neck, her other hand gathering the fabric of my dress up and pulling down my very soaked panties down, her smirk was almost unbearable to me, i would have scoffed at her if i wasn't squirming under her form for more, my eyes fluttered shut as she slid two digits down my folds, back arching while she teased my entrance, my skin felt hot, sweat forming on my forehead, the dress sticking to my skin, so i took it off completely, leaving my bare body with just the bra on, she tsked "so impatient, huh?" But my mind was already fogged so without saying another word i pulled her in for a kiss, i moaned into the kiss when her fingers finally left the rim and entered completely, i went to grab her side but the shirt she was wearing got in between, frustrated i pulled it off her, she didn't care one bit, keeping the pace steady, pumping her fingers in and out at an agonizingly slow pace, I bucked my hips to get more friction but she stopped entirely, fingers stilling inside me , I whimpered as she said "do not move till I say so, I will let you come when I want you too" her fingers regaining the speed but still not fast enough and I was left blubbering mess beneath her.

»»————-　☠　————-««

Clothes were scattered on the floor long ago, my screams and moans filled our room, if it weren't for the sound proofing, the media would be outside our door by now. I clutched onto her Ruby hair, as she glided her tongue up my slit, sending shivers down my spine, my legs thrown over her shoulder, her nose brushing over my sensitive clit, I was close to my edge, just another push and I'll be tumbling down, the knot in my stomach too tight, i groaned tugging on her hair "nat please" she just tutted against my cunt "you wanted this, now it's either you take what i give you or nothing at all" I whimpered, knowing she'd do just what she said, if I didn't comply, my mind was a mush, her skilled tongue lapping up my juices like a starved man but she did not give me the release, pulling back just enough to leave me groveling for her to go further, hands clamped on my thighs, she sucked on my clit and my back arched in response, my delirious mind swirling in thoughts of nothing but her hands on me, her kitten licks pushing towards the edge yet again, this time i didn't tell her, i was desperate to cum, i needed to but as if she knew what i was doing, she pulled back completely, my hand immediately flying to pull her back but she chuckled, her mouth smothered with my juices as she licked it off her lips.

She climbed on top of me, grinding her hips against mine, stimulating me more and more , my head rolled back , eyes scrunched shut, breathing labored but she had other plans , leaning down near the shell of my ear , her breath tickling me she said " say that you're mine, say it and I'll give you what you need, sweetheart" I whimpered, as quickly as I could I said " I'm yours, please, I'm all yours" she smirked, all the while teasing my entrance with her fingers, finally pumping into me, her fingers skillfully scissoring me inside, brushing my g-spot with every hit, and in no time I was coming on her fingers, the slick gushing out, smearing the already dirty bed sheets, I heaved, riding down my high, as she laid beside me chuckling and licking her fingers, I turned around and buried my face in her chest, her arms enveloping me, she caressed my hair lightly, kissing my forehead, giving me a break from before but before I could even process what's happening she pinned me down again, her voice rough "I'm not done with you just yet" and right then I knew I won't be getting any sleep tonight….

A/n : if you want to be tagged let me know in the comments ☺️

#natasha x you #natasha x reader #mommy natasha #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff #natasha marvel #scarlett johansson #natalie portman #nat smutt #natasha smut #marvel cenimatic universe #marvel characters #i love you boo 😚#marvel #marvel mcu

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