#how to reduce stretch marks

[dermatouchskincare]

What are stretch marks? How to get rid of stretch marks during pregnancy?

What are stretch marks?

Stretch marks, also known as striae, are streaks or lines that appear on the skin when it undergoes rapid stretching or expansion. They commonly occur during periods of rapid growth, such as during puberty, pregnancy, or significant weight gain or loss. Stretch marks typically appear as long, thin, and slightly depressed streaks that may vary in color, ranging from pink, red, purple, or brown, depending on the individual's skin tone.

The primary cause of stretch marks is the rapid stretching of the skin, which disrupts the normal production of collagen and elastin fibers responsible for maintaining the skin's elasticity. When the skin is stretched beyond its capacity, the underlying dermis can tear, resulting in the formation of stretch marks.

While stretch marks can occur on various areas of the body, they commonly appear on the abdomen, breasts, thighs, hips, buttocks, and upper arms. They are more prevalent in women than men, likely due to hormonal differences and the occurrence of pregnancy.

Although stretch marks are harmless and do not pose any health risks, they can be a source of cosmetic concern for some individuals. Over time, stretch marks may fade and become less noticeable, but they typically do not completely disappear without treatment.

Several treatment options are available for reducing the appearance of stretch marks, including topical creams, laser therapy, microdermabrasion, and cosmetic procedures like chemical peels or dermal fillers.

How to get rid of stretch marks during pregnancy?

During pregnancy, stretch marks commonly occur due to the rapid stretching of the skin as the body undergoes significant changes. There are several measures you can take to help minimize stretch marks appearance and promote skin health.    

Here are some tips for How to get rid of stretch marks during pregnancy:

Keep your skin hydrated: Apply a moisturizer or oil to your skin regularly, especially in areas prone to stretch marks such as the abdomen, breasts, hips, and thighs. Look for products containing ingredients like cocoa butter, shea butter, almond oil, or vitamin E, which can help improve skin elasticity and reduce dryness.

Maintain a healthy weight:

Gradual and steady weight gain during pregnancy can help minimize the occurrence of stretch marks. Avoid rapid weight gain or excessive weight loss, as it can contribute to the likelihood of stretch marks.

Stay hydrated:

Drinking an adequate amount of water helps keep your skin hydrated from within. Aim for at least 8-10 glasses of water per day.

Eat a balanced diet:

Consuming a nutritious diet rich in vitamins, minerals, and essential fatty acids can contribute to skin health and elasticity. Include foods such as fruits, vegetables, whole grains, lean proteins, and healthy fats in your diet.

Exercise regularly:

Engaging in gentle exercises approved by your healthcare provider can help maintain skin elasticity and promote overall wellness during pregnancy.

Avoid scratching or excessive rubbing:

Scratching the skin can exacerbate stretch marks and lead to further skin damage. Be mindful to avoid itching or rubbing the affected areas vigorously.

Consider topical treatments:

Certain creams, oils, or lotions specifically formulated for stretch marks may help reduce their appearance. Look for products containing ingredients like retinol, hyaluronic acid, or collagen-boosting agents. However, consult your healthcare provider before using any topical treatments during pregnancy to ensure they are safe for you and your baby.

Be patient:

It's important to remember that stretch marks may fade over time, often becoming less noticeable after pregnancy. Give your body time to heal, and focus on embracing the changes that come with the journey of motherhood.

Remember, each person's skin is unique, and the effectiveness of these measures may vary. If you have concerns about your stretch marks or need further guidance, it's best to consult with your healthcare provider or a dermatologist who can provide personalized advice and treatment options.

[iloveacaibowls111]

𝜗𝜚 ‧₊˚ ⊹

18+ MDNI, smut

dilf!toji wants a kid pt. 2

you don’t move.

can’t, really.

not with the way your breath is still caught somewhere in your chest, skin hot where toji just kissed you, where his palms were wrapped around you like he owned every inch. and god, you don’t even need to look down to know your robe is a mess - half-slipped off your shoulder, loosely tied at your waist, the heat of his body still lingering like static.

from the kitchen, you hear cereal being poured with the chaos only a toddler can summon. clinks. sloshes. maybe a plastic spoon hitting the ground.

toji’s already out the door, heavy-footed and shirtless, muttering something like “gimme a sec, bud” while grabbing the milk from the fridge.

it gives you just enough time to almost pull yourself together.

almost.

because two minutes later, he’s back - and he means business.

he doesn’t say a word. just closes the bedroom door behind him with a soft click, strides over to you like a man possessed, and then he’s on you again.

“been thinkin’ about this all morning,” he rasps, one knee pressing between your thighs as he walks you backward toward the bed. “you on the rug like that, bein’ all sweet with him…”

his hands are already undoing your robe, slipping it off your arms, letting it pool onto the floor like it never mattered. you’re left bare in front of him, flushed and aching, and the way he looks at you - almost feral - makes your knees almost give out.

toji catches you with a low grunt, arms solid as steel around your waist.

“i mean it,” he mutters, dragging his lips along your collarbone. “you’re killin’ me.”

he lifts you again, like you weigh nothing and this time lays you out across the bed. slow, almost careful. but there’s nothing gentle about the way he settles between your legs, dragging his mouth down your sternum, over the swell of your chest.

you let out a shaky breath, thighs twitching as his hand trails up to your breast, palm warm and broad and desperate.

“toji-” you gasp when he flicks your nipple with his tongue, followed by a greedy suck that sends sparks down your spine.

his voice is wrecked when he pulls back, thumb dragging over the damp mark he left behind. “should’ve locked the damn door.”

you let out a shaky laugh, hand curling in his hair. “you’re the one who left it open.”

“yeah, and i’m about to do a whole lot more if you keep lookin’ like that.” his mouth returns to your skin, kissing a path down your belly - slow, aching, possessive.

and then you feel it: his fingers brushing between your legs, groaning when he feels how wet you already are.

“…fuck,” he mutters, burying his face in the crook of your thigh for a moment like he’s overwhelmed. “you’re so perfect, doll.”

his fingers slip in with ease, thick and precise, curling at just the right spot as he watches your mouth fall open and listens to your soft whimpers. he keeps you on the edge - pushing, pulling, teasing. his name falls from your lips over and over, half-pleas, half-prayers.

just when as you feel that familiar coil in your stomach about to come undone around his hand.

just when you’re gasping, about to come undone around his hand, he pulls away.

“not yet, baby,” he says, voice tight with restraint. “wanna feel you around me when you cum.”

he strips out of his sweatpants fast, like they offended him, and you get your first look at how hard he’s been this whole time - cock flushed, leaking, twitching at the tip as he lines himself up with a low groan.

“i should take my time,” he murmurs, rubbing the head of his length against your soaked folds. “but I need you too much, doll.”

when he finally pushes his cock in - thick and deep - the stretch burning in the best way. the pure size never fails to reduce you to a moaning mess. 

you grab at his back, nails digging in as he bottoms out, voice catching on a soft, “toji-“

“shh,” he says, his forehead pressed to yours. “i got you.”

and then he starts moving - slow at first, rolling his hips deep until your eyes flutter shut, then faster, harder, chasing the way your breath stutters every time he hits just right.

when you felt his tip hit that one spot. the one that makes everything in your mind go blank. you let out a sweetened whimper as he says “ahh, there it is.”

you’re a mess under him. head thrown back. hair fanned across the pillow. his name tumbling from your lips like it’s the only thing you know.

“feel that?” he pants, hand pressing down on her stomach where there is a slight outline of his cock.”you take me so damn good. you really must want to be a mommy again.”

every thrust is rougher, needier, but still full of something tender - like he’s trying to give you something, not just take.

“gonna give you another baby,” he says lowly, voice breaking against your ear. “you want that, don’t you?”

you can’t even answer. you were too fucked out at this point.

you could just manage to nod, gasping, legs wrapping tight around him like instinct.

and that’s it for him. he groans your name - growls it, really - and leans down to kiss you hard, hips jerking as he spills his cum inside you with a low, broken sound.

he keeps moving even after, slower now, riding it out, brushing kisses across your cheeks and jaw while your bodies tremble together.

finally, he stills - sweaty, panting, arms caging you in like he never wants to let you go.

“you good?” he murmurs, brushing a thumb over your cheek.

you smile dazedly, still catching your breath. “…next time, we’re going to need more time.”

right on cue-

“mom! dad! the cereal’s too soggy now!”

toji groans against your chest. “i swear this kid is pickier than gordon ramsay.”

“i know,” you say, grinning. “but right now, you’re on milk duty.”

A/N: Sorry guys this is kinda cheeks because this is really rushed

part one here

[k3n-dyll]

Warnings...18+, wlw, not proofread, dom!Sevika, dom!Ambessa, rough sex, porn with zero plot, oral (r!receving), strap usage, strap sucking/face fucking, spit, squirting, spit roasting Word Count: 898

Notes ☆ this is just a sleepy, disgustingly horny, rant, man. Like, more so than usual.

Sevika practically holds you down with her body, mech arm caught tight around your torso as her flesh palm paws and squeezes at your tits, her lips pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses to your neck and shoulder. She's enjoying the view more than she'd ever admit out loud, silver eyes fixated on the other woman that's had her head snug between your legs for what at this point feels like fucking hours. Neither of you can seem to take your eyes off of the way Ambessa's scarred back and broad shoulders move as she forces you to keep still for her, the same large hands that so gently caress your face and hold you close any other time now locked in a vice grip against your thighs, sure to leave bruises against the soft skin.

The noises coming from her sucking and lapping at your cunt are bordering on obnoxious, the amount of time you've been pushed over the edge with her mouth alone having landed you sitting in a wet spot of a collection of your own squirt and her saliva. The overstimulation has reduced you into a babbling, trembling little mess, and yet neither of them have had their fill yet.

"I c-can't, I can't..." You slur, both women letting out amused huffs of laughter at your pathetic attempt to speak. Dumbly, you think that Ambessa pulling away and Sevika's grip on your body loosening means that you finally get a little bit of a break, your sigh of relief getting cut short by Sevika's voice as she whispers into your ear.

"You're not done, doll. Hands and knees." Her coaxing is gentle, her hands keeping you steady as you switch positions with the elegance of a newborn calf. It'd be humiliating if your brain hadn't been rendered so useless, eyes half-lidded as you watch Ambessa's tear-blurred form tower over you, a hand coming to grip your chin.

"Such a pretty thing you are. You've got a little more in you, don't you angel?" Ambessa's sultry tone fills your ears, a dopey grin crossing your features at the praise as you give an equally lazy nod. Gently, she presses the red silicone hanging from her hips against your mouth, seeking permission for entrance. "Good, girl. Open that pretty mouth for me"

Your jaw slacks almost immediately, a low hum of approval escaping the woman in front of you, her murmured praises and the feeling of her hand gently palming the back of your head distracting you from the girth stuffing your jaws. Distracting you from what's happening behind you as well.

You get little warning - the bed slightly sinking in from behind and the cool touch of a metal hand against the plush of your hip before you start to feel Sevika pushing her own strap inside of you. A choked yelp of surprise escaping you at the feeling, your body tensing up.

"Uh-uh, relax... that's it, just breathe baby.." Sevika purrs, leaning down and peppering wet kisses along the arch of your back to ease your tension, though she doesnt stop her advances, each shallow pump of her hips stretching you further.

They give you grace, letting you adjust, kissing and marking you as you settle around them but the gentle front doesn't last long. Sevika can't stop herself from slamming into you from behind, admiring the way your ass jiggles with each hard thrust, her own pussy dripping against the harness at the sight of the white ring forming at the base of her cock.

Each thrust from behind forces Ambessa's strap down your throat, every gag forced from you sending strings of saliva pooling from behind your lips and onto your chin, your neck, the bed...

"You're such a fucking mess, look at that.." Ambessa chuckles as she watches you struggle to take her in your mouth, enjoying how eager you are to please, even if it turns you into well...this. She rewards your eagerness by pulling out of your mouth, barely letting you get down a few much-needed gulps of air before she's shifted the harness down off of her hips, instead shoving your face flush between her thighs, letting you taste her.

Your breathlessness doesn't stop you from lapping at her like a woman starved, fingers curling into the sheets as you do your best to focus on the task at hand without succumbing to the intensity of Sevika's sloppy pounding from behind. Their grunts and overlapping praises drown out all thought, your body covered in a thin layer of sweat, shaking and twitching as you're split between the two. The only warning you're able to give before your climax ultimately rips through your body is a couple of muffled, loud whines.

Your head falls from Ambessa's grip, the woman letting you breathe as you cum, Sevika's hips just barely slowing as you finally let go, too enthralled in the way you squirt around her, the liquid wetting both your and her lower halves.

"Gonna have so much to clean up when we're finished with this one - fuck" Sevika boasts, letting her human palm land on your ass with a thwack. Ambessa just chuckles, her palm lightly patting the side of your face to keep you grounded in reality.

"You'll get to rest that pretty head in a little while, angel..." She coos. "But we're not quite done yet..."

Donations 4 Palestine - Arcane Masterlist

Taglist: @archangeldyke-all, @delinthecut, @half-of-a-gay, @porcelainmystery, @glass-apothecary, @cobraisveryhorny - Wanna be tagged?

We're gonna pretend I tagged the correct ppl the first time, 'kay? <3

[rafayelxsylusho]

LADS men and their kink$.

Xavier🌟

Hair pulling: He loves it when you take charge, especially when his face is buried in between your pretty thighs, he thinks there is nothing better than feeling your fingers tangling, tugging, holding him in place as he eats your pussy The slight sting of pain as you grip tighter, urging him closer, demanding more.. and when he is buried deep inside you, he wants your nails digging into his scalp as he takes you hard and fast.

Face fucking: He loves seeing your pretty lips stretched wide around his cock to take him in, the softness of them against his shaft, taking him so deep and feeling your throat swallow around him, fighting to take him deeper even as he fucks into your face. Seeing tears spring to your eyes, your makeup running down your face as he fuck your throat raw. Knowing he reduced you to a sloppy, desperate mess.

He likes hearing the obscene sounds of his cock pounding your throat, the slick, sloppy noises of you choking on his dick, t's the headiest fucking turn-on.

Cockwarming: Feeling your soft, pliant body mold around his hard, aching length, It's like your pussy is welcoming him home, embracing him, enveloping him in the most exquisite way possible. He loves the way your walls flutter and clench around him, like they never want to let him go, like they're trying to keep him deep inside you. He likes this especially when he just needs to feel you, if he is exhausted after training he just wants you sitting on his lap, cock buried deep inside while he savours the feeling.

Cunnilingus: We all know he is a thighs man, he loves the feeling of your thighs trembling against his ears, hearing your breathy cries and needy whimpers echoing off the walls as he devours your pussy like a starving man at a feast. He takes pride in reducing you to a writhing, mewling mess, in knowing that he is the one driving you to the brink of ecstasy with just his mouth and tongue. But most of all, he loves worshipping you like this. Showing you with every lap of his tongue, every press of his lips, every suckle and nibble, just how much he fucking adores you. His deep blue eyes never leave your face.

Zayne🥼

Orgasm denial: This man will give you the world if you ask him to but ooohh how he loves knowing that he has the power to unravel you, to push you to the very brink of madness with pleasure, and yet hold you back, keep you teetering on that edge. He feels there's a certain thrill in pushing you to your limits, in watching your body tremble and your face contort as you beg so sweetly for release. He likes knowing that he is the one in control, the one dictating your pleasure, that with a word, a touch, he can either grant you the explosive climax you crave or deny you and leave you aching, wanting, needing. After all it's like he says "Patience is a virtue"

Bondage: Its the rush of knowing that he can do anything he wants to your body and you can only lie there and take it. Bondage is about trust and he loves knowing that you entrust yourself completely to his care, his guidance, his mercy, even as he pushes your boundaries, even as he takes you to the very limits of your endurance, you still have faith in him, faith that he would never truly hurt you, that he will always keep you safe, sated and utterly, completely satisfied. And he also likes to see your wrists and ankles bound, the delicate skin flushed and slightly chafed from the friction of the rope or satin ties.

Dry humping: Dry humping you in that damn rocking chair. It's the perfect combination of intimacy and tease. Having you straddled across his lap, your soft, pliant body pressed against his. The rocking chair provides the ideal rhythm, the constant, sensual undulation of bodies grinding together, building a delicious friction and pressure that sets your nerves alight. The way your cunt grinds against his cock, the damp heat of your arousal seeping through to soak his pants, marking him and letting him feel how fucking desperate you are.

Temp play: The contrast of heat and cold, he likes the way it makes your skin flush and your nerves sing, your body both yearning for and recoiling from the sensation. Watching your nipples harden and your skin prickle, seeing your body's instinctive reaction to the temperature shift is a fucking erotic spectacle to him. He loves the way the heat makes your cunt drip and your juices flow, your body preparing itself, readying itself for the pleasure to come and the way the coolness makes you clench and flutter, your greedy hole aching to be stretched and filled and stuffed full. The contrast is like a drug, a high like no other.

Caleb🪐

Uniforms: He likes the way the uniform looks on him, the way it showcases the power and the strength of his body, the way it screams that he is a man of action, a man who can protect you, cherish you, and fuck you in equal measure. The uniform represents a part of his life, a duty, a responsibility and the thrill of defiling it, of marking it with your touch, your scent, your juices drives him crazy. Besides he knows you like the way his uniform looks when it's slightly askew, his hair tousled, his shirt unbuttoned, as he pins you against the wall and fucks you hard, fast and deep.

Spit: Maybe it's the depravity of it, the absolute filth, the way it marks you as his, desperate for any taste of him, no matter how degrading. He loves watching you open your pretty mouth, your lips part and your tongue flick out to catch the first drop of his saliva, it drives him fucking crazy to know that you're so fucking eager, so hungry, that you'll take whatever he gives you, no matter what it is. Once he feels your throat under his thumb, swallowing, he is done for.

Overstimulation: He knows that even as you beg for a break, for a moment to breathe, you still crave more. Knows that your body is so hungry for it, greedy for every touch, every kiss, every thrust. He gets a rush knowing that he can take you to the edge of oblivion and back again, as many times as he wants, that he is the one dragging you kicking and screaming into a world of ecstasy you never even knew existed.

Brat taming: He hates it when you get all defiant and bratty, but he loves seeing you go from mouthy and defiant to a begging, cock-drunk mess in his arms. He loves every second of taming your fiery spirit, of breaking you down and building you back up exactly how he wants you. Every time it's like a red flag waved in front of a bull, a fucking challenge he can't resist taking up.

Rafayel 🐡

Choking: He gets hard the moment he sees your eyes roll back, your cheeks flushed, your mouth open and your tongue lolling out, it's like watching a piece of art come to life, a masterpiece painted in the colors of desperation and need. He loves feeling your pulse jump and race beneath his fingers, knowing that he is the one making your heart pound, making your lungs burn, making your world narrow down to the simple, primal sensation of his hands around your throat.

Semi public: He likes playing with fire after all, that's why he loves the thrill of it, the adrenaline that races through his veins when he has you pinned against a wall, or bent over a desk, knowing that anyone could walk by and see him claiming you, fucking you, ruining you in broad fucking daylight. He knows that no matter where you are, no matter who might see you, all you can focus on is the feeling of his cock splitting you open and claiming you.

Eye contact: Looking into your eyes while he is buried inside you, while he is claiming you, ruining you, wrecking you it's the most intimate and the most erotic work of art he could ever create

He needs to see your face when you come undone. He needs to watch the way your eyes glaze over with pleasure, the way they flutter shut and then fly open wide as you cum. He needs to witness the way your pupils dilate with each thrust, each push, each drag of his cock along your walls. And the way you look at him when you're coming, the way your eyes go blank, the way you just stare at him like he's the only thing that matters, the only thing that exists in that moment.

Wax play: He loves seeing the way the hot, molten wax paints your skin, watching it drip and slide over every dip and curve of your body, it's like an artist watching his masterpiece come to life, and the way it feels, the way it coats your body like a second skin, trapping your heat, your desire, your desperation. He likes to know that he's the one shaping it, the one molding it, the one creating something beautiful and erotic and completely for his pleasure.

Sylus 🐦‍⬛

Size: He is big in every sense of the word, he likes to see how small your hand is compared to his, how his much larger hand wraps around your slender throat, feeling your pulse race beneath his fingers as he squeezes, it's like holding your life in his hands, owning your very existence. He loves the way his cock splits your little mouth open, stretching your jaw wide, forcing you to take every inch of his thick, hard length. Seeing you gag and choke on his size, feeling your throat convulse around him as you struggle to take it all.

Body worship: He likes to map every single inch of your body with his hands, his lips, his tongue, he wants to learn it by heart, to know it better than he knows his own name. He want to worship at the altar of your flesh, to offer up every single sinful, delicious prayer he can think of to the goddess that is your body. This man could spend hours, days, fucking years just exploring your body with his hands, with his mouth, with every inch of his being.

Dirty talk: He loves to watch your eyes widen, see your cheeks blush, hear your breath hitch, knowing that he can reduce you to a needy, desperate, wanton mess with just his words alone turns him on. This man tells you exactly what he is going to do to your body. He wants you to hear every filthy, depraved, utterly fucking obscene thing that crosses his mind as he imagines all the ways he is going to claim you.

Breeding: he wants to fuck you full of his cum, he wants to pump you so full that you're dripping with it, that it's leaking out of you, that you're drenched in the proof of how thoroughly he bred you, but even better is the idea of pushing it all back inside with his fingers. And just the thought of putting a baby in you, of watching your body change and grow and blossom with new life is enough to drive him insane.

ALL 5 OF THEM 🐦‍⬛🐡🪐🥼🌟

Marking: He loves the red imprints of his fingers on your hips, ass and thighs, teeth marks littering the lush curves of your tits and neck, it's like a brand, a tattoo of his ownership etched into your flesh. He wants the world to look at you and know that your body belongs to him.

[shotmrmiller]

the tale of how simon got himself a gf without stepping a foot outside of base.

anyone can tell you that alcohol reduces the ability to use logic. to see reason. it lowers inhibitions and blurs the boundary lines you've drawn in the sand.

but indulging in drink tonight is justified. you're in need of reprieve after this shit week: broke up with your boyfriend, deadlines at work appearing out of thin air, a flat tire on your morning commute. you even stepped on the end of your cat's tail.

miserable. (she's okay, just giving you the cold shoulder. you'll buy her some tasty snacks tomorrow.)

but for tonight, you're wallowing in your own misery. some uninteresting show is playing on the television, you're cradled by the cushions of your couch, a fluffy sherpa throw over your socked feet.

if only there was a way to melt this week's accumulated stress away even further.

cue the drunk texting your ex cliché.

anyone can tell you that it's detrimental to moving on. it's akin to reopening a wound that's already begun to heal. a step back when you should only be moving forward. your friends would drag you by your hair for being so dumb.

but there's an incessant throb in between your legs that's only getting stronger with every glass of wine you toss back. you're wound tight, violin strings stretched to the brink. a couple of bow strokes away from snapping.

you'll deal with the consequences tomorrow, along with your hangover.

typing in his (deleted in a fit of heartbroken rage) number with fumbling fingers and send a picture of you with the hem of your sleeping shirt between your teeth, the swell of your bare breasts on full display with a cheeky little missing you <3

he responds in minutes even though it's 2:30am.

send a vid and show me how much you miss me.

it makes your pussy clench around nothing, already slick, drooling, begging to be filled. you sink your teeth into your bottom lip as you bring up the camera.

when simon first gets the text, he's on edge, gripping his phone hard enough to crack. no one should have this number except for price, johnny and kyle. he's made sure of it-- had laswell pull strings to give him a secure line. no scam likely's, no cold calls, nothing.

but then some silly little bird dials his number by mistake and the sweet cherry on top is that you've sent a nude. breasts on full display-- soft looking, hard peaked. it makes his mouth water, his gums itch. he'd love to sink his teeth into them, into you, hard enough to bruise. mark. claim.

but that's for later, once he finds you.

he texts back and what you send him in response fattens his cock. a small hand tucked beneath the waistband of your flimsy knickers, gusset dampened with warm arousal. you lick your bottom lip, leaving it glossy with spit. your chest heaves with the sharp gasps of breath you're drawing.

but there's a problem. he can barely see what you're doing. he doesn't have x-ray vision, your knickers are in the way. while he can understand the allure, he himself doesn't have the patience for it. either you let him see your bare cunt or don't waste his time.

he wasn't expecting you to agree this fast. maybe a bit of push back, a little snapping of teeth until you relent but no. you're an obedient thing. submissive. just how he likes 'em. (if he wants to break someone in, that's what johnny's for.)

soft, inviting thighs spread wide, a couple of fingers curling inside your glistening cunt. (duly noticing how your 2 fingers are the size of 1 of his.) your moans spill from your lips unreservedly when you roll your pearl in tight, precise little circles. he spits on his hand, heavy length resting in his calloused palm and tugs himself at the pace you've set: jerky, quick, messy.

you come with a whimper, eyes shut and pliant body coiled tight. a frothy, sticky cream coats your fingers, dripping down to your arse, pooling on your couch.

you miss me too? sent 3:27 am

(he decides to keep you. simon can't remember the last time he's had a climax that spine stiffening in a while.)

[blossomkochhararomaaagic]

Struggling with Stretch Marks? Check Out Tips That Can Help! 

Do any of you love belly dancing? Well, I myself am far from being a belly dancer (or any dancer, to be honest), but my elder sister is a charismatic belly dancer. Her dancing moves leave everyone in the crowd swooning. By the way, my sis gave birth to a beautiful baby girl about a year ago, and we are all so over the moon to have that little princess in our lives. 

While the last few months have been great, my sister’s pregnancy and post-pregnancy phase has not been without challenges. Amidst many other difficulties, my sister also almost gave up on her passion for belly dancing. You see, like many women, she also developed stretch marks during her pregnancy, which took a hit on her self-esteem and confidence. Although these marks aren’t usually painful or harmful, they can affect a person’s emotional and mental health, impacting one’s self-image. 

A 2021 research study conducted by Michigan Medicine found that the permanency of stretch marks can be a cause of embarrassment for many pregnant women or individuals and can have a negative impact on their pregnancy and quality of life.

Pregnancy is one of the most significant causes of stretch marks. However, it is not the only one. Irrespective of the cause, they can result in anxiety and depression. I know it all sounds bad. But there’s always hope, guys. If you have stretch marks or maybe you know someone who does, please know there are ways that can help you reduce and fade stretch marks. Wanna learn about those ways? Then stick around till the end of this blog post. 

Stretch Marks: Causes & How to Reduce Them

I am a big-time foodie. I can basically eat anything you give me, provided it’s delicious. Unfortunately, my love for food sometimes seems to overpower my love for fashion (haven’t we all been there at some point)! 

Recently, I had to go out on a brunch date, and I had the perfect outfit in mind for it - my favourite jeans paired with a red halter-neck top. Unfortunately, when I tried wearing the jeans, they got stuck (because I had gained weight). However, adamant as I was on wearing them, I stretched the jeans beyond their elasticity allowed, and let’s just say it didn’t end well. The fabric lost its elasticity and got puckered (basically, there were stretch marks on the jeans). 

I guess this is somewhat similar to what happens with the skin! When the skin stretches or shrinks quickly, its elastin and collagen rupture. As your skin heals from this, it might result in lines or streaks across the skin called stretch marks. They are a type of scar and do not have the same melanin composition as healthy skin, which can result in pigmentation. They can also cause your skin to have an uneven skin tone and texture. Itchiness, irritation, sunken lines, and discoloration are common symptoms of stretch marks. 

What Causes Stretch Marks?

Remember I told you how stretch scars can appear when your skin experiences extreme growth or shrinkage in the last section? Well, here are a few factors that might cause the elastin and collagen in your skin to break, resulting in stretch scars: 

Pregnancy: Isn’t pregnancy a marvel? I mean, an individual brings another human being into this world. But we need to accept that pregnancy can also be physically and emotionally taxing. 

The body also goes through hormonal changes during pregnancy, some of which can result in the reorganisation of collagen and elastin. Also, during pregnancy, the body and skin stretch to make space (actually a lot of space) for the developing fetus, which often results in stretch marks on the belly.  

Rapid muscle growth & weight gain: Have you ever seen a weightlifting competition? Well, I have watched a few (on TV, obviously). When you look at weightlifters, do you ever wonder why many have stretch scars on their arms, thighs, or other body parts? It is because when the muscles grow, the skin has to stretch itself as per the changes in body shape & size (just like I tried to fit into my jeans by stretching them way too much).

Similarly, when you put on a lot of weight in a short period of time, it can cause tears in the inner layers of your skin, resulting in stretch marks. 

Puberty: I meet many people who are under the impression that stretch marks are only experienced by adults or aged people. Well, not true! They are common in teens because of rapid growth and weight gain.

I guess we’ve talked enough about the causes of stretch marks and should now move on to discuss a few tips for reducing them (did you just say “Finally”)! Anyway, let’s dig in!  

How to Fade Stretch Marks and Brighten Skin Tone

Last week was amazing for me! Among many good things, I got to see my sister back on stage as a belly dancer. I loved it, the crowd loved it, and I am sure my niece would have too if she had any idea about what her mom was doing onstage.

For the past few months, my sister has been working on boosting her self-confidence and self-acceptance. And she has also been able to reduce stretch marks and lighten skin tone using some expert-backed ways and solutions. And you can use them too! 

Here’s how to fade stretch marks: 

Home Remedies: Got some lemons in your kitchen? Yes? Good! If not, go buy them.

Lemons are one of the best natural remedies for stretch marks. All you got to do is take some freshly-squeezed lemon juice and apply it to the affected areas and then rinse it off with lukewarm water. Because lemons are a rich source of vitamin C, they also help brighten skin tone and fade pigmentation that might accompany stretch scars. 

And yes, massaging the affected area with warm Jojoba oil can also help fade stretch marks. Jojoba oil boosts collagen and elastin production in the body and helps restore skin elasticity.

Creams and Lotions: Just like you have skin care products for dark circles, acne, and dehydrated skin, there are products that can help you with stretch scars too. When looking for stretch mark creams, choose something with natural ingredients. Besides lemon and jojoba oil, you can also look for other ingredients like Wheat Germ oil, Centella, and Aloe Vera.

Well, my sister has been using Blossom Kochhar Aroma Magic Wheat Germ Cream. The main ingredient, Wheat Germ, has excellent antioxidant properties that help stimulate tissue regeneration and remove stretch marks. It is also infused with Jojoba oil, Honey, vitamins A, C & E, Almond extracts, and essential oils. 

Aroma Magic Wheat Germ Cream is super-moisturising and also helps brighten skin tone and reduce wrinkles. The best thing about this product is that it is all-natural and eco-friendly (definitely a bonus point for that)!

Medical & cosmetic treatments: Some people also opt for treatments like Laser Therapy, Dermabrasion, and Microneedling. While these treatments can help reduce the appearance of stretch marks, they can also have a few side effects, including discoloration, swelling, irritation, flaky skin, etc. 

Self-tanners: Ever used a concealer for your makeup? A concealer conceals the blemishes and dark spots by blending them in with your skin, but it doesn’t help remove them. Similarly, a self-tanning lotion can help hide stretch marks by minimising the difference between their colour and your skin tone. 

Stretch marks are a common skin condition, guys! While you can always resort to any of the ways mentioned above to fade stretch marks if it makes you feel better, it is also crucial to recognise that there is nothing to feel embarrassed about having them. So whether or not someone chooses to treat them should be their choice.

[mattluvr]

⋆·˚ ༘ * a pure smut matt sturniolo oneshot !

( dad!dom!matt with a raging breeding kink, oral — f!receiving, edging, dirty talk, praise )

matt wants another baby.

you do not. even if the sex to conceive your daughter had been some of the best you two had ever had, the dirty words matt had uttered that night still engraved into your brain, you’re adamant that you don’t want another child.

your daughter, now two years old and goddamn adorable, wreaks havoc at every opportunity, despite her angelic appearance; your brunette ringlets and matt’s bright blue eyes she’s inherited are a mere deception.

so often, when you and matt clamber into bed after a long day trying to prevent your kid from seriously injuring herself, you’re too tired to even entertain the idea of sex, let alone trying for another baby.

but today is your fifth anniversary with your boyfriend, whose insanely annoying charm has managed to change your perspective on a second pregnancy in the space of a romantic dinner at an italian restaurant.

so now you’re laid on your bed, spread eagled as matt kisses the burning flesh of your collarbones, your dress unzipped and being rolled down teasingly slowly. you moan into the thick air as one of his hands comes down to tweak your nipple through the flimsy material of the lingerie set you’d specially chosen; blue, his favourite colour.

“shit, matt.” you mumble, arching your back into his touch with a low moan. “makin’ me feel so good.”

“that right?” matt smirks, pinching your nipple harder to push your stimulation. you whine in response, stretching your neck to the side to invite matt to make more marks, not having to restrict the sounds pouring out of your mouth.

on the rare occasion that the pair of you share moments of intimacy, it’s rushed and usually restricted to mutual masturbation to reduce the risk of your daughter walking in and being scarred for life. but she’s staying with uncle chris and uncle nick, who are most likely feeding her way too much ice cream past her bedtime, so you don’t have to worry about anybody walking in.

“so fucking good.”

matt smiles, pleased with himself, and hungrily removes your dress completely, practically drooling at the full lingerie set reveal. he works quickly to pull the straps of your bra down, hands reaching round the back of you to undo the clasp, the tips of his fingers calloused but gentle. then, matt works on your panties, trimmed with baby blue lace, pulling them down, the material tickling your skin.

you buck your hips up as all three pieces of material float to the foot of the bed, starting to become impatient. you crave matt’s dick inside you, core pulsating as your boyfriend begins to move away from your chest, pressing kisses along your stomach until his mouth is level with your heat.

he doesn’t wait a second; lips are latched onto your clit before you have a chance to register what’s going on, a loud whine erupting from your throat as you let your head fall back on the pillow behind you. matt hasn’t eaten you out in months, and you’ve forgotten how talented he can be with his tongue.

as soon he latches onto your swollen clit, oozing arousal, you start to feel the familiar pit of longing form at the bottom of your stomach, close to release already. embarrassing; you must’ve been overly sensitive, making you easy to push to the edge, matt’s harsh kitten licks over your pulsing bud not helping matters.

your boyfriend picks up the pace of his ministrations against your bundle of nerves, gripping your thighs tighter as you begin to shake, on the verge of releasing. “matt,” you warn, whimpers spilling past your lips. “i’m close.”

“already?” his degrading tone and the laughter that follows only heightens your embarrassment, covering your face with your hands. immediately, matt is jumping to remove them, one hand lingering to grip your jaw. he sighs before diving back in, his next words muffled. “fine, just make it a good one.”

but as soon as he gives you permission, your orgasm right fucking there, matt pulls away, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“matt!” you cry out, using your thigh to hit his head, mouth wide open in disbelief. “i can’t believe you just did that.”

“don’t talk back to me.” he hisses, the hand that was still loosely on your jaw now squeezing your lips shut. you rarely see the dominant side of him this extreme, glad that he’s restricting your words in your state of speechless.

“you can cum once i’ve fucked this second baby into you. no complaints.”

and then he starts thrusting into you, roughly and relentlessly; you hadn’t even noticed him slip his lower garments off, pushing his way inside you, suddenly aware of how he fills you up and the pleasure you’re receiving from his length and girth.

you moan, legs instinctively widening, the sensitivity of being edged mere seconds before still raging, the knot in your stomach threatening to snap. matt is also getting sloppy, his thrusts weak as he struggles to restrain his release. he still has his hand pressed firmly against your jaw, muffling all your noises as you edge close to your orgasm.

“fu-uck.” matt’s breath hitches, his eyes trained on you as he pumps in and out; he already looks fucked out, his hair sticking to his forehead. “you gonna let me make you pregnant again? huh?”

you nod, eyebrows drawing together, the pleasure overbearing. you need to cum and you need cum now. matt is still whispering dirty things in your ear is he hovers over you, the boy’s legs shaking yours. “i’m gonna cum soon, baby, okay? you’re not gonna let a drop out.”

you nod again, your whole body tensing in your effort to hold back your orgasm. you’re willing matt to hurry up, silently due to matt’s continued clamped hand, the bed creaking mercilessly.

“oh, right there.” matt groans, his orgasm now on the edge too; you can feel it in his body movements. “god, sweetheart, i’m gonna…”

he trails off, head thrown back, hand dropping from your chin as he braces himself on either side of you. “cum!”

and he does, messily but in strong waves, painting your insides white with guttural moans. and, with your mouth finally freed, you’re able to orgasm as loud as you want, your body shaking as your high rolls over you.

once you’ve both come down from your shared peaks, matt pulls out of you, using his index finger to push the cum that trailed out after him back up into you; he evidently wants that second baby more than anything, and whilst you’re exhausted looking after one, there’s nobody you’d rather have multiple kids with than the boy now collapsed by your side, panting.

in your tangle of bare skin, you caress your boyfriend’s cheek, your words a soft whisper. “i’m excited now.”

“for what?” matt raises a quizzical eyebrow, placing the hand that had been gripping your jaw roughly minutes before over yours.

“for our daughter to have a sibling, duh. if we’re not pregnant after that, then i want a refund.”

and matt’s smile in response could’ve lit up a million stars.

[silasours]

ৎ⸝⸝⠀BELLY BULGE ! —

#pairing : lucifer, alastor, vox, valentino x gn reader. #cw : 18+ content, mdni. unprotected sex. edging. size kink. praise kink. sub reader. belly bulging. creampie. breeding kink. overstimulation. toy usage. mirror sex. #summary : hazbin men fucking so deep to the point where they can see and feel the bulge on your belly from their dick! wow, and it turns them on further!! #note : greetings and salutations everyone! i'm back (kinda) from my long ass close-to-three-months hiatus. i'm so sorry for disappearing so suddenly, and thank you so much for 1k followers while i was gone! have this and a few other upcoming smuts while i figure out on how to finish the alastor fic :').

ʚ LUCIFER .

how many rounds has it been? you honestly lost count. your ability to recall memories from earlier tonight slowly slips out of your grasps with each deep thrust of lucifer's hips. the sole thing you're able to focus your mind on is the sensation that travels throughout your whole body every time he hits that one spot inside of you, the feeling of multiple fire spark burning through your nerves.

his breathing is as ragged as yours, his usual slicked-back hair now messy and sticking to his sweaty forehead. your fingers fist the soft pillow supporting your face on the wide bed that you share, whimpers and cries being the only sounds that pour out of your sore lips. lucifer gives a moderate playful slap onto your bare hip, earning a small whine from you.

"such wonderful sight, look at you." his hand slides from your hip until his thumb reaches to stretch your flesh, revealing white streams of thick liquid rolling down from your pulsing hole to your inner thigh, an evidence of your partner's previous releases filling you up full. he watches the way his seeds spill out with every push of his hips, when his dick takes up the space inside of you instead and forcing the liquid to be squeezed out.

his tongue pokes out to lick his lips, his free hand once again moving forward to wrap its fingers around your neck firmly. with a soft hum, lucifer pulls your upper body up from the previous position, now having your back press against his chest. you can feel the rise and fall of his chest, the faint thumping of his heart through the layers of flesh.

you can barely feel your legs. they had gone numb from how long you've kept them up, the blood flow being reduced and now leaving you with legs that you can barely control by yourself. you gasp at the feeling of lucifer's length reaching deeper inside of you, the tip poking at places that you never knew one could reach inside of you. your hands moved by themselves and held onto whatever that can support your body on this new position, lucifer's ruthless thrust now increasing its pace without mercy.

he keeps a hand wrapped around your neck, holding you still while the other explores your body despite already left countless marks and touch on every inch of your body. your head tilts back to rest on his shoulder, moans and cries never stopped rolling off of your tongue as lucifer whispers sweet nothings into your ear. it was then he felt something he did not feel on your body before this.

curious, his thrusts slows down just a little as his eyes peek from beside your head, his hand caressing the bump that he feels on your stomach. he feels his breath hitch, realizing that the bump would poke out every time he thrusts into you. he feels heat spread all over his body, like he's growing aroused all over again despite the previous releases.

you hear him mutter something along the lines of 'you're so attractive' followed with a few curses. he harshly thrusts into you, digging his hips deep into yours while holding a hand of yours to the same area where your belly would bulge with every thrust. you feel the air of his breath hit your sticky skin as he snickers.

"be good and keep your hand here for me, yeah? we're going for a few more rounds."

ʚ ALASTOR .

"yes, keep going my dear. you're doing great." alastor's clawed fingers dig into the sensitive flesh of your hips as you lower yourself further down onto his length. his words may sound like sweet praises, but his tone hides a hint of petty tease while he speaks. such an annoying demon he is, always teasing you by making you work yourself on him just so he could grab every chance possible to run that dirty tongue of his.

you grumble lightly, ignoring the smug look on his face as you pause your actions, earning a confused look from the demon laying below you. he allowed a short staring contest with each other until he got impatient with how badly he needs to feel your walls pulse around him. he mutters something incomprehensible, tightening his grip on you and forcibly push you down without warning to take in every single inch he has to offer.

your breath catches in your throat almost instantly, eyes widening in surprise and gradually rolling to the back of your head. alastor has an advantage, and he knows just how to use it in his favor. he chuckles at the sight displayed in front of him; you, the same person who had just tried to tick him off earlier now struggling to adjust to the size of his dick stretching you apart.

of course, he knew this is exactly how you liked him to play even though you never directly expressed it.

alastor completely retracts almost all of his length, leaving just the tip nestled in the warmth of your walls and watches you clench around nothing as if you're asking for him to fill you up again. your teary eyes glance down at him, unhappy at the fact that he's still playing tricks on you before letting him draw a loud moan from you with a sudden thrust of his hips.

your arms reach out to catch your body from the back, body leaning back. you struggle to keep yourself upright while riding him, your legs giving out easily as per usual. your hips rock along with his, your sweet spot constantly being stimulated because of how perfect this angle of position is.

alastor savors every reaction and sounds from you, his eyes twitching ever so often from how well you squeeze around him. the bulge on you belly catches his eye; his pupils shake with excitement, muscles pulsing at the delicious sight of the bulge disappearing and reappearing. his mind grows fuzzy from the strange enjoyment he never knew he had for things like this.

"ah, fuck." a clearly audible groan slips past his lips, his hips involuntarily buckles up as ropes of hot release paints your inner walls. his static voice seems to crackle slightly when he cursed which indicates that he feels good. really good. your heart jumps with excitement yet your body crumbles, the coil in your stomach snaps quickly after alastor's, pushing you into a moaning mess.

oxygen seems to have escaped his lungs as he pants for air, the back of his hand covering his eyes. the heat on his face is painfully visible even in the dark room you're currently situated in and the blurred vision you have from tears gathering around your eyes. you were about to move and cup his face to adore his blushing look before his voice rang through your ears, stopping you.

"ah ah, stay there now. keep putting on a pretty show for me. i'm still up for more of it, you see."

ʚ VOX .

"isn't the mirror perfect? my eyes never miss." vox laughs at his own playful comment yet his lustful eyes never left your reflection in the mirror. you advert your gaze from his hungry ones, unable to even properly look at yourself in the mirror without getting all flustered again. the clothes currently hugging your body is a sensual outfit that vox had specifically tailored for you, with the perfect size and design to his liking. anyone would be lying if they said you don't look luscious for eyes to feast on.

of course his comment wouldn't be on the mirror alone, it was mostly towards the outfit you're wearing. he hums, pulling your body closer to his till you're both tangled together in front of the big mirror, your back stuck to his chest. his lips sucks on the sensitive skin on your neck, kiss marks blooming all over like flowers during the spring season. hell, even the noises you make sound extra alluring tonight.

vox's hand slide down your body and presses firmly on your stomach, drinking in your whines as he presses on something bulging. bullseye. he recently discovered that you especially love it when he does this, and it also arouses him a ton.

"mm. you like that? wanna feel my dick from here while i fuck ya?"

a hard exhale leaves your lips as you nod, intertwining your fingers with his and allowing him to have total control over your body. he chuckles at the tightened walls around him before rocking his hips. moans spill out of your lips as he guides your hand to press against your stomach, making you feel just how deep he's going.

"eyes on the mirror, baby." you do your best to lift your eyelids and slide your gaze onto the big mirror set in front of you; vox's eyes glow like a hunter looking at its prey in the reflection, peering from your shoulder.

you question if it was the right choice to drag your lover out from the office he's always holed up in to shop at multiple stores today. he was reluctant at first, making up different excuses to stay in his office. 'i could just have them deliver to our doorstep, baby! we're rich as fuck, remember?' or 'another day, let me stay in today.'

if it wasn't because of how stubborn you were to drag him out even for a small walk, he wouldn't have agreed to go out with you and got a ton of stuff, including this mirror that's sitting by the wall, in front of the bed.

you feel immense embarrassment burning all over your skin from how you're completely displayed in the reflection for the both of you to see, yet your eyes lock with the demon's through the mirror. his smile is brutal. "there we go, now don't look away."

his merciless thrusts brought more blood rushing to your face along with shameless moans from you, followed by grunts that's audible to you from vox. your legs tremble, threatening to give out and the loud sounds of skin slapping gradually fills your head, cutting out the ability to comprehend anything in you.

your gaze fixates on the belly bulge that's painfully visible in the reflection, the sight only tightening the sweet coil hidden in your stomach. the demon groans at you squeezing around his length, knowing that you're enjoying this as much as he currently is brought him dangerously close to the edge. it wasn't long until the both you reach peak, vox pulling out just in time to witness the beautiful sight of his seed staining your inner thighs.

one thing's for sure, he definitely loves going on shopping sprees with you from now on.

ʚ VALENTINO .

work pissed him off. valentino always had a very short temper and gets ticked off by the smallest things at work the moment it doesn't goes the way he wants them to. and the easiest way for him to cool off? it'll either be a good smoke or dragging you to somewhere less busy for a quickie. perhaps both works as well, if he wishes for it.

your body presses up against the cold, hard wall as his breath tickles the back of your ear, his slippery tongue sliding and flicking around damping your earlobe. his actions are quick and rushed, yet somehow careful with everything he does to you by not going too rough on you.

his lower pair of arms slightly fumbles while undressing your lower body from how narrow the space is. you wanted to ask why didn't he choose somewhere with more space, but words stopped right on your tongue when he suddenly inserted his full length into you. you cursed and press your forehead against the wall hard, a strange mixture of pain and pleasure blooms in your stomach while struggling to breathe, adjusting to his size.

"relax a bit carino, you're gonna squeeze my dick off if you don't."

"doesn't help, val. that- fuck w-wait," valentino doesn't allow you to finish your complain, cutting you off with a rough thrust. your words turn into whines, nails digging into his arms that are wrapped around your trembling body. he carried on teasing you with irregular thrusts before pulling out fully, a mysteriously playful chuckle bubbling from his chest. you glance at him with a confused expression.

it wasn't long until you hear a familiar buzzing sound of a vibrator. he barely gave you enough time to process the information and question him, inserting the small toy deep inside of you. you gasp; the weird feeling of something vibrating inside of you made it hard for you to understand what to feel. it felt so weird to the point where it's pleasurable, something so unfamiliar yet a turn on.

"what the fuck are you- hey! that shit's still inside- val!" moans slip in between your words as valentino's length replaced his slender fingers inside of you, the tip pushing the vibrating toy deeper into your pulsing walls. choked moans are let out from your throat, the brimming tears spill from your eyes and down to your cheeks.

valentino pushes both of his fingers that were used to insert the toy into your mouth, muttering praises as you instinctively lick and suck on them. your tongue slips in between and around his fingers, coating it with your saliva while some spills out from the corner of your lips and rolls off of your chin.

he shows no mercy with his ruthless thrusts, the toy growing a weird pleasure in your stomach by hitting the perfect areas inside of you. with how deep it is, your belly bulges with every rough thrust of the demon. val whistles the moment he notices it, his gaze now only fixates on your stomach from above, admiring the bulge as his thrusts only grew harsher.

hell, even the size of his dick seems to be growing bigger while your velvet walls remained engulfing it. any thoughts regarding his work are now clouded and replaced with lust, yearning for more of you.

"know what? go on and cum for me, amor. we'll take this to the bedroom then."

© silas ( @silasours ). all rights reserved. every work posted on this account belongs to me, and only me. please refrain from reposting, plagiarizing, translating, or reproducing my work in any form possible.

[rawjutsu]

chapter four.

pairing: snow leopard hybrid!gojo x bunny hybrid!femreader

keep up here

a/n: this ones a big one so buckle up!

the first two days of your heat are torture, and you don’t stay long in satoru’s room.

the first couple of hours were spent with your face buried in his pillows and sheets, grinding your bare pussy against his comforter until the scent of him and the friction of the fabric soaked into your skin like sin. you were feral, mind fogged and drooling, leaving the soft material wet and sticky as orgasm after orgasm rolled over you. you didn’t even recognize your own voice anymore—just muffled sobs and gasps of his name.

it was like your body had been hijacked.

like something bigger than you had taken over, reducing you to a panting, dripping mess desperate for your snow leopard roommate.

visions flickered behind your eyelids like a reel on repeat. satoru, snarling as he pinned your hips down with brute strength, his thick body pressing you into the mattress as he fucked the breath out of you.

or worse—him teasing you. cruel and smiling, leaning close to whisper filth in your twitching ears while his fingers just barely grazed your inner thighs. dragging it out. watching your sweet little tail tremble as you begged for him to do something—anything.

would he slam into you with a growl, stretch you open all at once, or sink in slow, dragging every inch out like torture?

you sobbed, practically feeling the veins on his cock. you could see it. taste it. your cunt clenched around nothing, throbbing with need.

there was no way he wasn’t packing something unreal. you knew it. there was too much muscle, too much confidence, too much raw, snowy predator in him.

you lost count of your orgasms somewhere around the fourth. the next thing you remembered was blinking awake hours later in the dying amber light of sunset, thighs sticky and sore.

day one was already over.

and all you’d done was rub yourself raw across satoru’s bed.

embarrassment crept up your flushed neck. you whimpered, forcing your trembling limbs to peel off the sheets. you stumbled into the shower, cranked the dial to cold, and stood there shivering, trying to scrub away the heat.

it helped—for about twenty minutes.

you guzzled four bottles of water straight from the fridge, pressing the plastic against your cheeks as your body simmered with renewed arousal.

but the fire in your belly was back, and this time it was worse.

you didn’t go back to his room.

you limped to your own and tried to be strong.

day two was hell.

you were armed with every toy in your arsenal. vibrators, dildos, lube (thought you really didn't need any). but nothing filled the aching void the way his room had. the way his scent had.

the vibrator felt like a whisper. the dildo, no matter how deep, was too soft. too plastic. too fake. your body wanted real weight. real heat. real cum.

you cried through another pitiful orgasm, shaking on your sheets, a silicone toy buried in your dripping hole as your arm went numb from overuse. your thighs trembled from repeatedly bouncing yourself onto it, slick squelching in the air.

you didn’t want to do the work. you didn’t want to move.

you wanted to be split open and held down.

you wanted someone to grip your hips so tight the bruises stayed for weeks, and fuck their cum so deep inside you it ached.

that was the cruelest part of this all.

every hybrid’s instinct during their cycle was the same: breed or be bred. and it was worse for rabbit hybrids. your biology screamed for it. marking. claiming. ownership.

that milky, messy release was more than physical. it was symbolic.

you cried out as another aftershock hit you, your plush bunny tail twitching against your sheets. you could barely keep your thighs apart. could barely stay conscious.

would satoru cum in slow, burning strokes that stretched your insides, or in fast, desperate spurts while gripping your ears tight?

you wanted to know. you needed to know.

⊹ ࣪ ˖

across the hall, satoru was losing his damn mind.

he paced nanami’s apartment like a caged animal, ears flicking, tail puffed and swinging erratically behind him. his breathing was uneven, and he looked wrecked.

“she had my shirt,” he muttered for the sixth time.

nanami sighed, not bothering to look up from the book he’d been pretending to read. “it’s natural for someone going through their heat to need comfort from the opposite sex. scent helps.”

��but that’s, like... for people who are together, right?” satoru was near spiraling now. “you don’t just... grab someone’s clothes unless—unless it means something!”

“you two live together,” nanami said flatly. “i doubt her brain is worried about the semantics of your relationship right now.”

satoru stared at the wall like it owed him answers. his pants were getting tight.

he hated this.

he hated pretending to be normal in someone else’s apartment while you were across the hall, dripping and needy and probably still crying.

he couldn’t jerk off here—nanami would smell it. and he’d die of shame. and probably get murdered.

and work? forget it. he couldn’t even think straight, much less function while on the clock.

so the only time he allowed himself any relief was in sketchy public restrooms scattered across the city.

and every time, he felt a little like a creep.

but your scent haunted him.

nanami said he couldn’t smell it, but satoru could. the sweet, dizzying tang of your arousal had soaked into his clothes, lingered in his brain.

he knew you’d been in his room. he knew what you were doing.

were you in one of his shirts, thighs spread, fingers deep inside yourself while you bit down on his pillow?

fuck, what would his bed smell like when he finally went back?

half of him prayed you’d washed the sheets.

the other half hoped they still reeked of your slick.

because if they did—if they still smelled like you—he didn’t know what he’d do.

satoru groaned into his bowl of ice cream like it personally wronged him, sexually and emotionally frustrated and one dumb thought away from exploding. this was the longest he’d gone without seeing you.

he missed your sarcasm. the way your cute nose would twitch when you were annoyed with him. the way you’d pull at your ears when you vented about work like you didn’t even notice you were doing it. god, he missed you. you. not just your body—though that too, holy shit—but your voice, your presence, your everything.

“do you have feelings for her?” nanami asked flatly, prepping yakitori like it was just another wednesday.

“what—no, obviously not,” satoru shot back instantly. too fast. “it’s just…”

he trailed off. couldn’t finish it. couldn’t lie, but couldn’t say what was actually going on in his chest, either. at first, it might’ve been a heat thing. biological. animal shit. but now?

now he wasn’t so sure it was just that.

nanami didn’t let up either.

“she has options, you know. could’ve spent her heat with someone else. a friend. someone from home.”

satoru’s fur bristled before he could stop it. his pupils narrowed into slits.

“why the fuck would she do that?” he growled, something guttural and angry rising from his gut like smoke.

nanami raised an eyebrow and turned back to the stove, like that answer told him everything.

satoru didn’t want to think about it. he tried not to think about it. but that was impossible when you were literally across the goddamn hall. a few hundred feet away. going through that. in your bed. with no one.

the thought made him shift uncomfortably, cock twitching. he eyed his phone.

still nothing from you. it had been days. no texts. no passive aggressive post-it notes. no sarcastic remarks about the way he chews gum too loud. just—silence.

you had to be nearing the end of your heat, right? probably. maybe. hopefully.

his thumb hovered over your contact before he could stop himself. he didn’t think. he just typed:

u ok?

and then he stared at the screen like it owed him something. a read receipt. a reply. a goddamn sign from the universe. something ugly and anxious crawled up his throat, tightening.

a minute passed. then two.

nothing.

he scowled and shoved his chair back, dragging himself toward the sink to wash his bowl—

ding!

his head snapped around like he’d been shot.

no.

just that. one word.

his heart skipped. no? no, you weren’t okay? no, you were still in heat? no, you didn’t want to be alone?

or maybe the apartment was on fire. could be. wouldn’t be the first time.

but it didn’t matter. because you texted back. and if you were in trouble—or if you weren’t and just wanted to talk—he had to check. had to see you.

he was already halfway to the front door when nanami appeared in his path, arms crossed and expression tight.

“where are you going?”

“geez, mom, what—can’t i step outside for some air?” satoru chuckled a little too nervously.

nanami sighed. “i don’t care where you go, gojo. but if you’re heading back to your apartment, i feel responsible to tell you it’s probably not a good idea.”

satoru rolled his eyes and patted nanami on the shoulder as he breezed past him. “relax, man. i’m just making sure there’s not, like, a gas leak or something.”

nanami made a face, but let him go.

the second satoru opened his front door, he froze.

the scent.

it hit him like a truck, thick and wet in the air, so heavy it curled around his tongue and lungs like smoke. his knees almost buckled. he slapped a hand over his nose and mouth, but it was too late. his entire body responded.

you weren’t even in the same room, and his cock was already hardening against the front of his pants, needy and twitching.

he stumbled forward, teeth clenched. it was dizzying, intoxicating, like walking through a cloud of your need. the primal part of his brain roared awake, hungry and starving and possessive.

your scent was everywhere.

he moved carefully down the hall toward your room, covering his face and trying—failing—to keep it together. he raised a hand and knocked.

nothing.

even with his hybrid hearing, he couldn’t catch a single sound.

he was just about to turn and check his room—fuck, if you were in his bed he might actually lose it—when—

creeaak.

your door cracked open.

and there you were.

eyes hazy. lips swollen. skin flushed and glowing. your entire body radiating heat and scent and desperation.

you looked like a fucking mess.

“s-satoru? what’re you doing here?” you whispered, your eyes were widened looking up at him. 

“i-you said you werent okay,” satoru whispered back, his voice a little muffled behind his hand.

you shifted from one foot to another, nails curling into your palms.

“i—i didn’t think you’d actually come,” you said quietly.

satoru let out a shaky breath, still covering half his face with his hand like that might somehow protect him. like he wasn’t already drowning in the scent of you—sweet and sharp, like something ripe and forbidden. his body ached in places he didn’t want to admit.

“yeah, well… you said you weren’t okay,” he mumbled. “i couldn’t just ignore that.”

you blinked, lashes fluttering. you looked exhausted. there were beads of sweat along your temples, your lips parted as if breathing was hard. you weren’t wearing much—just a tank top clinging damply to your skin and a pair of sleep shorts that might as well have been nonexistent. satoru swallowed hard and looked away.

“i’m fine,” you said, weakly. “or—i will be. you should go.”

“right,” he said, stepping back a little. “yeah. you’re right. i shouldn’t be here.”

but neither of you moved.

seconds ticked by, both of you breathing too hard, the air between you heavy and humid. your scent was practically curling around his limbs, dragging him deeper into some dangerous headspace.

“unless…” you said suddenly, barely audible. “unless you—have, like, any tips? for getting through this. i’ve tried everything.”

satoru let out a sharp laugh, rubbing a hand down his face. “yeah, well, trust me, if i had a tip that didn’t involve either of us doing something really fucking stupid, i would’ve given it to you already.”

you made a frustrated noise and slumped back against the doorframe, head thudding against the wood.

“it’s so bad this time, satoru,” you whispered. “i think my body’s reacting to yours. to you being gone.”

that word—yours—sent a jolt through him. he clenched his jaw.

“you’re not wrong,” he muttered. “it’s been hell on my end too.”

you both stood there for a moment, like you were toeing the edge of something you couldn’t walk back from.

“i can’t fuck you,” he said suddenly, voice tight. “you know that, right? i can’t—not when you’re like this.”

your eyes snapped up to his, wide and glassy. “i didn’t ask you to.”

“i know,” he said. “i’m just saying it so i don’t forget.”

another pause.

“but,” he added, stepping forward just slightly, “i could maybe… help. a little. not—not with sex. but something.”

you blinked up at him, heat crackling in the air between you.

“what kind of help?”

he swallowed.

“let me use my mouth,” he said, and it came out as more of a plea than he meant it to. “just that. you can stop me whenever. but i can smell how much it hurts. you’re not gonna make it through another day like this.”

you hesitated—really hesitated. you were stubborn. you didn’t like feeling weak. you didn’t want to give in.

but your thighs were trembling uncontrollably, and your eyes were full of desperation, and his scent—his stupidly delicious, snow-wild scent—was making you lightheaded. he smelled like something you wanted to bury your nose into. like comfort and cold air and mate.

“okay,” you whispered. “just… just your mouth.”

“just my mouth,” he agreed, voice pitched low, careful, like approaching a skittish animal. “that’s it.”

his fingers brushed your waist.

your breath caught—then broke—and your whole body seized, thighs trembling. it was like the dam shattered. a pulse of molten heat shot through your core, raw and punishing, and your knees buckled like your bones just gave up. you sobbed into his shirt, your whole body seizing up just from the feel of him—solid, warm, here. finally, finally—

he caught you before you hit the floor, arms wrapping tight around your waist and chest like he knew you were about to fall apart.

his purr rumbled in his chest, a low, steady hum meant to soothe—but it only cracked you open more. like your heat recognized him and screamed mine.

“let me help you, bun,” he murmured against your ear, his breath hot and shivery. the sound of his voice alone made your spine arch.

you nodded, dazed. desperate.

satoru eased you onto the bed, your sheets already tangled and soaked with your scent. your body twitched when he touched the mattress—like it knew what was coming. like it had been waiting for this.

he laid you back gently, but there was tension in every movement. urgency simmering under his skin. his tail twitched like a whip behind him, lashing sharp and fast.

he started slow—kissing down your thighs, dragging his nails over overheated skin. his nose twitched. the scent of your slick filled the room, thick and sharp and feral.

you couldn’t stop squirming. your legs shook even though he hadn’t even touched you where you needed it. your body was starving.

when he pulled your shorts down, his breath hitched audibly.

“fuck,” he breathed, eyes locked between your legs. “bunny, you’re soaking wet.”

he spread you wider, and slick dripped onto the mattress.

his pupils dilated—wide, round, blown black.

“is this because of me?” he asked, voice all rough edges, something wrecked leaking through.

you whimpered, arm thrown over your face, too embarrassed to look at him—but you nodded, trembling. “p-please, satoru…”

he didn’t wait.

he devoured.

his tongue dragged through your folds like he was starving. your back arched off the bed so hard it nearly snapped, your fingers flying into his hair, grabbing fistfuls, scratching behind his ears like you were trying to ground yourself in something.

but you couldn’t. you were already gone.

he growled low in his throat when your hips bucked against his face. it was possessive. primal. the sound of a man who liked being overwhelmed by you. his claws dug into the plush of your thighs to hold you open—keep you open—for him.

his lips latched onto your clit and sucked, groaning into you like it fed him.

you screamed, grabbing the sheets like they could help.

then—fuck—two of his fingers slid inside you and you lost it. your whole body bowed off the bed. the sound of your slick, the way it squelched loud and messy—it would’ve made you flush if you weren’t already delirious.

he curled his fingers just right, dragging along that devastating spongy spot inside you until your ears rang.

“shit—” you gasped, tugging his hair, eyes rolling back. “satoru—ohmygod—satoru—please—”

he didn’t answer. just kept licking, sucking, slurping, tongue lapping at you like you were his only damn source of water. your thighs clamped around his head—he shoved them back open.

“stay open,” he growled suddenly, voice rough. one of your legs had instinctively tried to close around his head, and he shoved it back down. “you want my help or not?”

“i am—i’m trying—” you sobbed, brain barely forming words. your body was burning, clenching around nothing, twitching every time his tongue circled your entrance like a cruel little tease.

he shoved his fingers in again—crooked them with surgical precision—and you wailed.

“yeah,” he muttered to himself, more animal than man. “this heat’s got you soaked, bunny. dripping.”

you couldn’t even care. your thighs were shaking, your hips jerking up like you were chasing something you didn’t know how to ask for.

“more,” you begged, voice cracked and wrecked. “please—i need more—i can’t—I need you, satoru—please—”

“what, this?” he murmured, flicking your clit with his tongue until you cried out. “or this?” another finger. another stretch. another wave of unbearable heat.

you clawed at his shoulders, panting, writhing beneath him. “you—i want you. your cock—i need you inside me—please, i’ve been waiting—i’ve needed it for days, i’m gonna die—”

he froze.

his head snapped up. his eyes locked onto yours—wild, glassy, dangerous.

his chest was rising in shallow, ragged bursts.

“you don’t get it,” he said, low and hoarse. “i fuck you right now, i’m not gonna stop.”

“then don’t,” you whispered, voice shaking. your thighs trembled against his arms. your whole body screamed yes.

he let out a strangled, half-wrecked laugh. something in him snapped.

but he didn’t give you what you wanted. not yet.

he went back down—hungry now, tongue ruthless, fingers fucking into you faster, harder, chasing your orgasm like he needed it.

“satoru—satoru—satoru—” it was all you could say. your name for him and his name for you. your whole world collapsed down to his mouth and your heat and this endless, endless ache.

his purr deepened.

he sealed his lips around your clit and sucked, hard, over and over, until your body clenched so tight around his fingers it forced your orgasm to tear out of you like a scream.

you didn’t even feel it build.

you just shattered.

you were crying again. couldn't stop.

your hips rocked, overstimulated and burning, but you didn’t push him away. you couldn’t. you needed it—needed him—like air. like life.

he pulled back only to lick you slower, gentler now—but still desperate, still not done.

and then, he pulled out—fingers gone, tongue gone, mouth lifting as his hand gripped his cock rough and fast.

“no—n-no, please—” you whined, hips stuttering forward, chasing his mouth.

he groaned low and long, and came hard—thick ropes splashing across your belly while you trembled underneath him, twitching and empty.

you blinked up at him, dazed and tear-streaked, chest heaving.

you lay there, ruined. limp. belly sticky. cunt clenching around nothing, still pulsing with need that wouldn’t fully die down. the heat was finally fading, but your body still ached for him.

satoru dropped beside you a moment later, arm flopped over his eyes, chest rising and falling like he’d just run a marathon. neither of you spoke. the only sound in the room was the slow, exhausted drag of your breathing, and the echo of everything unsaid.

your hand was sticky. his thigh brushed yours. he didn’t move away.

silence.

then, after a long, long pause—barely above a whisper, like he regretted it halfway through asking:

“…uh. is my room clean?”

you blinked at the ceiling.

then laughed. breathless. hysterical. maybe on the verge of tears.

he groaned into his arm.

꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱���˚⊹

[eeboyysworld]

“ Wanna get freaky on camera! -“

──★ ˙📸 ̟ !!

Genre: Smut

Frontman X Male!Reader X Recruiter

Cautions/Warnings: Filmed sex, threesome, anal sex, blowjobs , coming untouched, cum as lube, straight up jorkin it, no plot.

A/n: i saw people shipping them, and honestly this is an excuse to just have them fuck you!! Ps can’t rlly tell who’s who so.. use your imagination to its fullest🤗

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

The shining light burned into your skin, leaving your eyes dazed, becoming dizzy under the gleam.

Pieces of your hair fluttered down, the locks becoming the only thing you could see.

“Mmh— look here ,baby” a finger gripped your jaw, tilting you upwards. The tall silhouette of a man, dressed comfortable rather than the fancy suits he owned.

You couldn’t really comprehend what he said, too busy trying to keep still on your feet, the swift air behind you becoming faster and faster. Hearing the sound of slick becoming more pronounced.

“Stay still f—for me.” The stuttering came from behind you, easily identifying the other man. It wasn’t long ,before he spilled himself onto your , spread, cheeks. Hands gripping it open, the warm liquid leaking down to your thighs.

A groan broke the silence, having no idea who did that, maybe both. Watching as the camera panned to behind you, the light finally moving away. Red dots appeared your vision, sight adjusting. “Fuck- that’s perfect.”

Becoming flushed, legs wobbly as a finger probed you open. Camera capturing the way you clenched down, the digit slowly moving, cum smearing your ass. Breathless moans left you, the feeling of just one finger was enough.

One became two, and then three. Each of them stretching you open. The sound filled your ears, making you grimace. “Always tight-“ a harsh thrust , “ —no matter how much we fuck your greedy ass.” Grabbing the nearest thing to balance yourself . Gripping a pair of grey joggers, the man who was recording everything.

“Can’t wait? , slut.” The words they fed you made you impossibly harder, dick twitching in the air.

Deeming you ready, the fingers pulled out. Being teased with his tip, coating itself in the cream, before nestling in you. Eyes shut , fingers twitching from how hard you gripped, the pain turned into pleasure as the pace was set.

Skin on skin was prominent, sweat beading down your head, hair sticking to you. Blissfully unaware of the presence Infront of you. The sound of pants dropping had you open your eyes. The sight of the others length sat Infront of you.

“Open up.” You didn’t have to, the man behind you fucked hard, body leaping without any effort from you, mouth falling into an ‘o’. No time to close before he invaded your mouth. Muffling the moans, sending vibrations.

“A-ah.. “ hips stuttering in your mouth, “ —you fit us so good.” Both of your holes stretched to its max, being reduced to a cum dump. Fingers gripped your hair, massaging it before the grip tightened. The thrusts you received , had you gagging on the man Infront of you.

Spitting dribbling down your chin, swallowing around his cock. Being used from both ends, feeling stuffed. Your own dick had no attention to it, left to bobble from force. Whines left you, the pressure in you growing bigger.

A slap landed behind you, skin jiggling from impact, camera hosted to get the angles right. “Just for us-“ another hit, skin turning flush. “ —nobody else will have you.” Moans spluttered out of you, with no room to breathe.

The dick Infront you had set a pace, both of them bringing you back and forth , playing tug of war with you. Setting a rhythm. His tip kept hitting the back of your throat, definitely leaving a mark. Tongue swirling around him. Groans heard from both ends.

You did the best you could to help them release into you, clenching and unclenching. The grip in your hair loosening up before starting up again. Hands spread you open, his eyes locked on the way you ate his dick, watching it disappear before reappearing, his leftover cream creating slick.

Bubbles formed around your mouth, drool making it easier to face fuck you. “ So pretty like this-“ praises went straight to your dick. A hand slithered to your throat, coming from behind. Gripping it impossibly tight, had you seeing stars. The flash from before appearing before you, the light sweeping through your eye lids.

“Show the world- “ hand loosening,” —How cock drunk you are..” grip returning, you had no idea how desperate you look right now. You felt like you were suffocating, the cock nestled in you had tears spilling down. Eyes red , face bright pink. Ready for the world to see.

They both became sloppy, the slaps hitting you from both ends became sluggish. Your own arousal tightening up. “F-fuck.” Hands gripping your waist, another pair, still, held your locks of hair. Left to a moaning mess under their touch.

You came undone before them, making a mess on the stainless floor.

Their hips stuttering, both coming to a halt, nestling inside you.

Warmth spread inside you, both releasing. Forcing you to swallow, feeling stuffed to the core. The cum overflowing, dripping down to the floor. The stickiness coating your thighs again.

He pulled out, heaviness leaving your mouth , letting you breathe,taking a gulp of air. Behind you, the other laid himself across your back , you squirmed under the hold. Eyes open, watching the man in-front tuck himself away.

It was quiet, the silence was nice, giving you guys recovery. Being lifted into a comfortable position , melting into the sheets of the bed.

A knock echoed the room, one of the two answering.

“Please..” a middle aged women , dressed in the cliche maid outfit. “For the sake of us.. keep it down!-“ making her to slam the door, officially leaving you guys alone.

“Let’s do it louder.”

———

Another one done 🫡🫡🩷

[faebled-stories]

A Journey to Belong

Kinkvember Day 26: Collaring

LOONA/Lossemble Kim Hyunjin x Male reader

12.2k words

AN: Woke up this morning to see an anon sharing a picture that was absolutely perfect. I'm a little gutted I didn't think to use it first, but I'm swapping out the original because it fits so well. Shoutout to that anon!

Hyunjin used to wear her collar with pride. To her, it was more than just an accessory; it was a quiet proclamation of something deeper, something grounding. The soft leather always warmed against her skin, like a second pulse in tune with her own. She would touch it absentmindedly, her fingers brushing its edge when she was lost in thought or overwhelmed by emotion. It wasn’t just a tether—it was comfort, a mark of belonging, a secret she carried that only the two of you truly understood.

Sometimes, you’d catch her tracing its curve, her lips curling into a playful, knowing smile. She seemed to radiate joy in those moments, a quiet confidence that reflected her connection to you. When she laughed, her head tilted just enough for the light to catch its polished surface, creating a subtle gleam that felt like it winked just for you. That collar wasn’t just part of her identity—it was part of yours. A symbol that carried the weight of something words couldn’t touch, a connection that went deeper than mere appearance.

In the past, she treated it with reverence. Her hands would move with care as she adjusted it in the morning, her fingers slow and deliberate, as if the act were a ritual. When you fastened it around her neck, her posture straightened, her shoulders set, as though she were bearing the weight of something noble, something cherished. But lately, that reverence had begun to fade.

The world had grown heavier on her shoulders, its quiet burdens pressing into her with relentless persistence. It dulled the gleam in her eyes, dimming the light that once made them shine like distant stars. She moved slower now, less deliberate, her rhythm disrupted by the constant push and pull of responsibilities she could never quite shake. You saw it in the way her hand brushed the collar less often, in the way it hung around her neck without the same meaning. It had begun to feel like an afterthought—a once-sacred symbol reduced to just another thing she wore.

The rituals that once anchored her, those small acts that reminded her of who she was and what she meant to you, had grown scarce. The quiet moments where meaning was woven, thread by thread, had been replaced by silence. It wasn’t just the collar losing its weight—it was the spaces between you that felt heavier now, filled with an unspoken distance that you couldn’t quite bridge.

That evening, the house was quiet. The golden hues of sunset filtered through the curtains, pooling in soft puddles of light on the wooden floor. You stood in the bedroom doorway, your shadow stretching long across the room as you watched her. She was tucking her legs beneath the blanket, her movements slow, tired. Normally, this hour was sacred. She would kneel beside the bed, her posture straight, her head bowed, her breaths even as she let the weight of the day melt away. It was a small ritual that belonged to the two of you, a moment of balance in a chaotic world.

But tonight, she simply climbed into bed. Brushing a few stray strands of hair from her face, her expression was one of quiet resignation, as though that ritual were nothing more than a faint memory.

“Hyunjin,” you said softly, your voice steady but questioning.

She glanced up at you, her eyes heavy with exhaustion, faint shadows beneath them betraying just how long the day had been. “Hmm?”

“Your ritual,” you reminded her gently, careful to keep your tone light.

“Oh,” she murmured, shifting slightly as she pulled the blanket higher over her shoulders. “I’ll skip it tonight. I’m tired.”

The word hung in the air between you, cold and unyielding. It felt like the first crack in something you’d thought was unshakable. You wanted to press her, to remind her that it wasn’t just a routine but a connection—a space for her, for you, for what you’d built together. But something fragile lingered in her gaze, a weariness that ran deeper than physical fatigue. She looked like a bird perched precariously on a wire, ready to take flight at the slightest movement.

So instead, you nodded and stepped away, the sound of your footsteps fading into the quiet of the house. Still, the tightness in your chest lingered, an ache settling deep as you heard the soft creak of the bed springs signaling her restless sleep.

-----

A couple of mornings later, sunlight poured through the kitchen window, a golden warmth spilling across the tiled floor. Faint motes of dust swirled lazily in the still air, catching the light. The soft hum of the refrigerator was the only sound breaking the silence. You stood at the counter, the warmth of your coffee mug grounding you, your gaze fixed on the corner of the room.

It was the spot you’d asked her to clear days ago. Yet, it remained untouched, the clutter seeming to expand every time you looked at it. Books with dog-eared pages teetered in uneven stacks, half-empty mugs marked with faint coffee rings sat beside plates with crumbs still clinging to them. Papers—some folded, some crumpled—spilled across the surface, as though she’d abandoned them mid-thought. It wasn’t just a mess; it was her mess. Her habits left to fester, her tasks left undone, her things bleeding into the shared space as if their importance extended only as far as her immediate need for them.

You took a slow sip of your coffee, the bitter warmth grounding you as irritation flickered faintly in your chest. Turning toward the sound of soft footsteps, you saw Hyunjin shuffle into the room. Her hair was loosely gathered in a bun, messy strands framing her face, and her phone cast a pale glow across her features. Her thumb moved idly, scrolling with an almost hypnotic focus that made the rest of the world feel distant.

Without looking up, she moved toward the counter, her movements slow and distracted. You waited, letting the silence stretch for a moment, then finally spoke. “Hyunjin, why haven’t you cleaned the corner yet?”

She paused mid-step, her thumb hovering over her phone. For a fleeting second, she looked genuinely confused, like she wasn’t sure what you were talking about. Her eyes followed yours to the mess, and recognition flickered faintly across her face.

“Oh,” she said lightly, her tone casual, as if the neglected corner was an afterthought. “I haven't gotten to it yet.”

You set your coffee mug down carefully, keeping your voice calm but deliberate. “You didn’t get to it?”

“Yeah,” she replied, her tone dismissive, already brushing off the moment. “I’ll do it later. It’s not a big deal.”

Her hand waved vaguely toward the clutter, and she didn’t even glance up from her phone. Her thumb resumed its slow scrolling, her focus absorbed once again by the screen in her hand. The dismissiveness in her words stung more than you expected. It wasn’t the mess itself—it was the meaning behind it, the erosion of care, the growing distance her casual attitude revealed.

“Hyunjin,” you said, your voice tightening slightly. “When I ask you to do something, I expect it to be done.”

She didn’t even glance up, her gaze fixed firmly on her phone. “Okay, okay,” she mumbled, the words quick, automatic, more reflex than acknowledgment. As she turned slightly, she muttered under her breath, “Jeez.”

The word was quiet but sharp enough to cut. It hung in the air, a small jab that carried a weight far heavier than the sound should have. Your jaw tightened, the flicker of irritation blooming into something harder to ignore.

The warmth of the sunlight streaming through the window felt out of place now, incongruous against the tension crackling in the air. The room, once a peaceful haven, suddenly felt heavier. The silence was no longer soothing but charged with something unspoken. You turned back to the window, gripping your coffee mug a little tighter as you stared out at the trees swaying gently in the breeze.

It wasn’t about the mess, not really. It was about what it represented—the slow, creeping disconnection that seemed to settle in the spaces between these moments. You wondered how something so small, so seemingly insignificant, could feel so monumental. But the distance was there, undeniable, growing wider with every careless dismissal, every idle word. You stared out at the golden light playing across the trees and wondered when things had started to slip away.

-----

That evening, the restaurant was softly lit, the golden glow of candles casting flickering shadows across the table. The low hum of conversation mixed with the gentle clinking of silverware, creating an atmosphere that felt both intimate and alive. You and Hyunjin sat among her friends—Go Won, Yeojin, Hyeju, and Vivi—whose chatter flowed easily, punctuated by bursts of laughter that seemed to brighten the room. The five of them shared an easy rhythm, their teasing and playful banter weaving a language they all seemed to instinctively understand.

Hyunjin looked radiant tonight, her cheeks flushed from the warmth of the room and the laughter bubbling from her lips. She leaned forward as Yeojin said something outrageous, her eyes crinkling with genuine amusement, her smile wide and uninhibited. It was the kind of joy that drew you in, making the rest of the room blur around her. For a moment, you let yourself get lost in it, in the way her laughter lit up the space between you, in the quiet pride of seeing her so at ease.

Then, Go Won leaned forward, her grin mischievous, her tone teasing. “So,” she said, drawing out the word, her eyes glinting with barely contained glee, “is it true that Hyunjin’s partner is, like, totally in charge?”

Yeojin giggled, her eyes darting between you and Hyunjin, while Hyeju smirked knowingly. Vivi, who had been sipping her wine, set her glass down delicately and raised a curious eyebrow, her lips curving into a subtle smile. Their teasing filled the air with an electric anticipation, the kind that came before someone said something bold. All eyes turned to Hyunjin, waiting for her response.

Hyunjin laughed, but it wasn’t the soft, genuine sound you’d heard moments before. This laugh was sharp, cutting, her tone tinged with something defensive. “Yeah, right,” she said, flipping her hair with an exaggerated flourish. “He thinks he’s in charge? Oh please.”

The table erupted in laughter. Go Won clapped her hands while Yeojin practically doubled over, her giggles carrying across the room. Even Hyeju, who often played it cool, cracked a grin. Vivi, ever poised, hid her smirk behind her hand, but her eyes sparkled with amusement. You smiled along, but it felt stiff, a hollow gesture as her words sank in.

Beneath the table, you reached for her hand, a subtle gesture meant to ground the moment, to remind her of the connection that should have been there. But her hand shifted slightly, pulling away as if she hadn’t noticed—or perhaps as if she had and didn’t care.

“Hyunjin,” you said softly, leaning toward her so your words wouldn’t carry to the others. Your tone wasn’t angry, but there was a question in it—a quiet nudge toward something unspoken.

For a fleeting moment, her smile faltered. She glanced at you, her eyes flickering with something—hesitation, regret, a sliver of guilt—but it disappeared as quickly as it came. “What?” she said, her voice light, brushing off the moment. “It’s just a joke.”

Her words hit harder than you expected, their casual dismissal cutting deeper than they should have. The conversation rolled forward without missing a beat, the others picking up where they’d left off. Vivi leaned toward Go Won, quietly asking a question that made her laugh, her soft voice adding to the warm hum of the room. Hyunjin, meanwhile, turned back to Hyeju, her smile slipping back into place. On the surface, everything seemed normal, her laughter blending seamlessly into the rhythm of her friends’ banter.

But beneath that surface, her thoughts tumbled. She told herself it wasn’t a big deal—that it was better this way, keeping things light, keeping her independence in view for others to see. They didn’t need to understand everything. They didn’t need to see what happened between the two of you, the private bond that defined her. That was hers to guard. And yet, as she laughed, the thought settled heavily in her chest, an unease she couldn’t quite push away.

You leaned back slightly, withdrawing into the golden light of the restaurant. The room around you was alive with warmth and conversation, but it felt distant, as though it belonged to another world entirely. You watched her across the table, the way she tilted her head toward Hyeju, sharing a private joke, the corners of her lips lifting just enough. It should have been enough to warm you, but instead, a quiet ache gnawed at the space between you.

There was a disconnect now, sharp and unyielding, like an invisible chasm that had opened in the space of a few words. It wasn’t the laughter or even the teasing that stung. It was the way she pulled away—the way her words had drawn a line that neither the candlelight nor the soft hum of the restaurant could cross. The warmth of the evening felt muted, its glow unable to soften the weight of the unspoken distance. You sat back in silence, watching her laugh and smile, and wondered when the connection you shared had started to feel like a memory rather than something real.

The days had begun to blur together, the weight of unspoken tension threading through the quiet of the house. Little moments that once felt warm now felt distant, replaced by a growing disconnect that neither of you had yet acknowledged aloud. You found yourself noticing the small things more—the sound of her keys dropping onto the counter, the way her shoes landed haphazardly by the door, as if she no longer cared where they fell. It was as if the rhythm you once shared had gone slightly out of sync, a subtle discord that lingered in every interaction.

This evening was no different. The house was still, the muted hum of life outside barely audible through the windows. You sat on the couch, a reading lamp casting a soft glow over the book in your hands, the quiet, a fragile balm you hadn’t realized you needed. The words on the page barely registered, your mind wandering to the space between you and Hyunjin, to the way things had begun to fray. You turned the page absently, your focus more on the soft creak of the house settling than on the story in front of you.

The sudden slam of the front door shattered the stillness, the sharp crack slicing through the quiet like a thunderclap. Hyunjin stormed in, her movements hurried and agitated. Her bag slipped off her shoulder and hit the floor with a heavy thud, the sound reverberating in the space like a dropped weight. It landed crumpled and forgotten, a statement as loud as the door she had slammed behind her.

Tension radiated off her in waves, her presence electric, charged with barely contained frustration. She moved with a restlessness that seemed to fill the room, suffocating in its intensity. Her breathing was uneven, her fingers twitching as they reached up to push her hair back from her face, her movements sharp and unrelenting.

From your spot on the couch, you looked up, your grip tightening slightly on the book as the soft light from the lamp illuminated your face. You studied her, taking in the way she paced slightly, her gaze flickering over the space like she was searching for something to anchor her. The energy she brought into the room was undeniable, sharp and restless like the air before a downpour.

“Rough day?” you asked, your voice neutral, carefully measured as you closed the book and set it aside on the small table next to you.

“Don’t start,” she snapped, her voice taut and edged with irritation, each syllable cutting through the stillness like a blade. She kicked her shoes off with thoughtless movements, one landing askew near the door while the other slid across the hardwood with a soft scrape. Without so much as a glance in your direction, she headed toward the kitchen, her movements brisk and full of a frustration she seemed unable to contain.

You rose from the couch, moving calmly in her wake, each step deliberate and unhurried. The tension radiating from her seemed to fill the air, but you kept your own energy steady, refusing to be drawn into the storm she was carrying. “I’m not starting anything,” you said, your voice low and even. “I’m asking.”

“Then don’t!” she said, whirling around to face you, the sharpness in her tone reverberating between you. Her eyes burned with an emotion that went beyond anger—it was raw, layered with exhaustion and something deeper, something tangled and unspoken that caught you off guard. “God, you’re always hovering. Can’t you just give me some space?”

Her words lingered in the air like smoke, acrid and stinging. They cut through the fragile quiet that had filled the house before she arrived, leaving it broken and jagged in her wake. Her shoulders rose and fell with shallow breaths, her chest heaving slightly as though even the act of speaking had pulled something out of her. You took a small step closer, your movements measured, keeping your gaze steady as you tried to read the tension in her stance. Her posture was tight, defensive, her arms twitching slightly as though she wanted to cross them but couldn’t quite commit to the action.

“Hyunjin, come here,” you said softly. Your voice was calm but firm, a quiet invitation edged with a gravity that couldn’t be ignored. It wasn’t loud, but it carried weight, a steady anchor in the turbulence that crackled in the space between you.

Her jaw tightened, her teeth pressing together as she hesitated. For a moment, her arms wrapped around her chest defensively, her body closing off. Her eyes flickered with something between defiance and vulnerability—an emotion she seemed desperate to mask. “What now?” she muttered, her tone laced with sarcasm and exhaustion. “Another lecture? Another rule I’ve broken?”

You let the words hang in the air for a moment, refusing to take the bait. “Come here. Now,” you said again, sharper this time. The calm authority in your voice sliced cleanly through her deflection, leaving no room for argument.

Her body stiffened, her lips parting as if to fire back a retort, but the words caught in her throat. She froze, her arms tightening against her chest as she stared at you, her expression caught somewhere between rebellion and hesitation. The air between you felt impossibly heavy, thick with the weight of all the things left unsaid. Her defiance was still there, simmering just below the surface, but quieter now, edged with uncertainty.

Slowly, deliberately, you reached for the collar around her neck. The movement was calm, but its intent was unmistakable. Her breath hitched audibly, her eyes widening as your fingers brushed the soft leather, warm from her skin. The cool buckle under your touch seemed to amplify the tension, vibrating in the charged silence.

Her reaction was immediate. Her hands shot up, grasping yours with sudden urgency. Her palms pressed against the backs of your hands, trembling slightly as though to stop you—or at least to understand. The contact struck you both, heavier than the action itself, more intimate than any argument could ever be.

Her fingers curled lightly against yours, delicate but insistent, as if trying to cling to something intangible. She didn’t speak, but her eyes searched yours, wide and pleading. Her lips were pressed into a thin line, but the emotion in her gaze spoke louder than any words she could muster.

The buckle clicked open, the sound impossibly loud in the quiet. Her hands lingered on yours for a moment, trembling as though reluctant to let go. When the leather slipped free from her neck, her hands fell away slowly, brushing over her collarbone as if trying to feel the weight that was no longer there.

Her gaze darted downward, her expression shifting between shock and raw vulnerability. “What—what are you doing?” she stammered, her voice faltering, unsteady. Her fingers rose instinctively to the bare skin of her neck, searching for the familiar presence of the collar, now conspicuously absent.

You held the collar in your hands for a moment, its weight feeling heavier than it had ever been. The leather seemed darker under the dim light, more imposing in its absence from her neck. Without a word, you turned and walked toward the mantle, your footsteps deliberate, every step sinking into the silence like a nail into wood.

Carefully, almost ceremoniously, you placed the collar on the mantle. Its dark band stood out starkly against the pale wood, a silent reminder of what it represented. You let your hand linger for a moment before stepping back and turning to face her again.

“If you can’t respect what this collar means,” you said, your voice steady and measured, “then you don’t deserve to wear it.”

Her breath hitched audibly, sharp and hollow in the heavy silence. For a moment, she stared at you, her lips parting as if to argue, but no words came. Her shoulders sagged slightly, and she looked away, her hands twitching at her sides. Then, her gaze snapped back, flickering with faint resistance, though it was muted—more defense than defiance.

“That’s not—” she began, but her voice faltered, the words tapering off. She looked down, her fingers brushing her neck as though searching for the familiar weight that was no longer there. Her jaw tightened, and her voice came softer, almost subdued. “You’re… overthinking this,” she muttered. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

You stayed silent, your gaze steady, letting her words linger in the charged air. She shifted uncomfortably under your scrutiny, her hands falling away from her neck as she glanced toward the collar resting on the mantle. The sight of it made her flinch, her shoulders drawing inward, but she refused to let herself stay vulnerable for long.

“Whatever…It’s just a stupid collar,” she said finally, the words tumbling out too quickly, too defensively, as though trying to shield herself from the enormity of the moment.

Your expression didn’t waver, your silence speaking louder than any response could. Her dismissive tone lingered in the air, but it felt brittle, as though it could shatter under the weight of her unspoken emotions. The room settled into an oppressive stillness, the warmth of the house replaced by a cold tension that neither of you could escape.

Her gaze flicked back to you for a fleeting moment before dropping to the floor. She stood frozen, her fingers twitching at her sides, her vulnerability laid bare despite her words. And as the silence deepened, you wondered if she truly believed what she had just said—or if it was simply easier to say than to confront what the collar, and everything it represented, meant to her.

-----

The absence of the collar should have been no big deal. That’s what Hyunjin told herself that first night, staring at the faint shadows cast by the moonlight on the ceiling. The glow of the streetlights outside spilled through the curtains, painting shifting shapes that danced with the breeze. Her chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, the cool air brushing against her bare neck—a subtle but insistent reminder of what wasn’t there. She pulled the blanket higher around her shoulders, seeking warmth, but it didn’t help. No matter how tightly she cocooned herself, the emptiness followed her, clinging like a shadow she couldn’t shake.

Her fingers fidgeted at her sides, brushing against her throat as though searching for something that wasn’t there. Each time they met bare skin, a pang of frustration mingled with something deeper—something she refused to name—flared in her chest. She shifted onto her side, then her back again, the rustle of the sheets doing little to calm the restless energy coiling within her. The room felt colder, quieter than it should have been, the stillness pressing down on her like a weight.

“It’s just a strip of leather,” she whispered into the dark, her voice barely audible. The words felt hollow even as they left her lips, a weak attempt to convince herself of something she didn’t truly believe. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

Saying it aloud should have helped. It should have silenced the thoughts, dulled the ache in her chest. But the words dissolved into the silence, weightless and meaningless, leaving behind only a sharper awareness of the void they couldn’t fill. She turned her face into the pillow, her fingers clutching the blanket as though holding onto something tangible could ground her. But even that felt futile, like trying to grasp smoke.

Sleep, when it finally came, was fractured and uneasy. Flickering images and sensations haunted her dreams, vague and ungraspable. The sound of your voice lingered in her subconscious—steady, grounding, sure. The firm yet comforting pressure of your hands left an imprint that refused to fade. And the collar—it haunted her, its weight vivid in her dreams, so real she could almost feel it pressing against her skin.

She woke several times throughout the night, her body restless, the blanket tangled around her legs. Each time, her hand instinctively reached for her neck, her fingers brushing the bare skin as though to confirm what her mind already knew. The absence felt like an accusation, a silent reminder of what she had dismissed too easily. By the time the faint light of dawn seeped through the curtains, her body was drained, but her thoughts were relentless, circling the same question: Why did it feel like so much more than just a collar?

-----

By the third day, the weight of the collar’s absence had become unbearable. The void it left consumed her thoughts, gnawing at her relentlessly, each quiet moment amplifying the ache. The collar sat on the mantle in the bedroom, unmoving yet commanding, its polished leather gleaming faintly in the soft light of flickering candles. It seemed so small, so unassuming, yet its presence loomed large, dominating not just the room but her every thought.

At first, she avoided looking at it directly, telling herself it didn’t matter, that it was better to stay busy and keep her focus elsewhere. But the effort was futile. Her eyes betrayed her, flickering back to it again and again, her chest tightening with each glance. The ache inside her grew sharper, more insistent. Her lips pressed into a thin line, her fingers twitching at her sides as though resisting the urge to reach out. It wasn’t just the object that unsettled her—it was the creeping realization of what it symbolized: trust, connection, submission, and the bond she had taken for granted.

She tried to leave the room, to find distraction in other parts of the house, but the bedroom pulled at her like a tide. Each step away felt heavier, harder, until she couldn’t bring herself to leave at all. By midmorning, she was back, sitting on the edge of the bed, her gaze fixed on the mantle. Hours stretched long and quiet around her as she lingered, her presence a silent acknowledgment of the tension she couldn’t escape.

By evening, Hyunjin’s resolve had crumbled entirely. She remained in the bedroom, the air thick with the faint scent of mint and the lingering trace of your cologne. The room seemed heavier than usual, as though the walls themselves were holding their breath, waiting for her to face what she had been avoiding all day.

Her gaze locked on the mantle once again, drawn to the collar as if by an invisible force. Its polished leather caught the flickering candlelight, the buckle gleaming faintly like a distant beacon. Her chest tightened with every passing second as she stared, her reflection faintly visible in the metal, distorted and fragile. Her breath grew shallow, her thoughts swirling into a chaotic storm of guilt, longing, and determination.

Unable to stand the weight of it any longer, she slowly sank to her knees. The wooden floor felt cold against her skin, grounding her trembling body as she settled into position. Her hands rested lightly on her thighs, but her fingers quivered, unable to stay still. She bowed her head, her breath uneven, as though the very act of submission was drawing the truth out of her.

The room pressed down on her in its quiet stillness. Each flicker of candlelight seemed to illuminate the depths of her turmoil, the flames dancing in time with the raw emotion that churned within her.

Her heart pounded steadily in her chest, her body aching from the strain of holding the position, but she refused to move. The act of kneeling felt like the only thing tethering her, a physical manifestation of the submission she had neglected.

She whispered to herself, soft and uncertain, the words carried by the silence. “It wasn’t just a stupid collar. It never was.”

The admission felt raw, vulnerable, but the weight of it didn’t lift. Her breaths came shallow and uneven as the minutes ticked by. Her muscles burned, her knees aching against the hard floor, but she stayed resolute, unwilling to let the discomfort deter her. This was where she belonged—waiting, asking without words for the chance to prove herself.

When the sound of the front door opening echoed through the quiet house, her heart leapt in her chest. Her body stiffened, the faint creak of your footsteps growing louder as you moved closer. She didn’t dare lift her head, the air around her thickening with anticipation. Her fingers curled into the fabric of her thighs, her breath catching as your familiar presence filled the doorway.

You stopped, your shadow falling over her as you took in the scene: Hyunjin kneeling at the foot of the mantle, her head bowed, her form trembling slightly with emotion. The flickering candlelight cast soft shadows across her figure, accentuating the strain in her shoulders, the tension in her hands. She didn’t look up, but the weight of your gaze pressed into her like a tangible force.

“Hyunjin,” you said, your voice low and steady, cutting through the quiet like a blade.

Her head lifted slightly at the sound of your voice, her eyes wide and glistening as they met yours. “Sir,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I… I know I wasn’t called here. But I needed to be here.”

You studied her, your expression unreadable, and she hurried to continue, her words spilling out in a rush. “I’ve been so foolish,” she admitted, her voice cracking slightly. “I thought I could brush it off, that it didn’t matter. But I was wrong. So wrong.”

Her fingers twitched against her thighs, her entire body trembling as she spoke. “I’ve learned… that submission isn’t automatic. It’s not something I can take for granted or expect without effort. It’s something I have to give—fully, every day. And I failed to do that, Sir. I failed to value you, to trust you, and to honor what this collar represents.”

Her voice broke, a sob catching in her throat. “I thought I could handle its absence. That it wouldn’t affect me. But it does, Sir. It does more than I ever imagined. Without it… without you, I feel so lost.”

Her head dipped lower, tears spilling over as her breath hitched audibly. “Please, Sir,” she whispered, desperation threading through every syllable. “I don’t deserve it yet, but I want to. I want to earn it back. I’ll do anything. Just… just let me prove myself.”

“Words are easy, Hyunjin,” you said, your tone calm but unyielding. “They don’t mean as much as action.”

Her breath hitched, and she quickly looked up, her wide eyes searching your face for any hint of mercy. “Please, Sir,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “I’ll show you. I’ll prove it. Just… please, let me earn it back.”

“You’ve been working hard,” you acknowledged, stepping closer, the collar still in your hands. “But hard work isn’t enough. What makes you think you deserve this again?”

Her lips parted, trembling as she struggled to find the words. “Because I—I know what I lost,” she said finally, her voice trembling. “I know what it means now, Sir. I’ll do anything to earn it back. Please, don’t keep it from me.”

You took another step forward, looming over her. The weight of your presence made her lower her head again, her breath coming in shallow, uneven gasps. “Anything?” you asked, your tone steady but sharp. “Because this collar isn’t just about obedience. It’s about trust. Commitment. Do you even understand what those mean?”

“Yes, Sir,” she said quickly, her voice rising in desperation. “I understand now, I swear. I didn’t before, but I do now. Please… let me prove it to you.”

Her hands twitched against her thighs, instinctively wanting to reach for you but staying frozen in place. The room fell silent again, the tension thick as her pleas hung in the air. You stayed quiet, letting her squirm under the weight of your gaze. Her breathing grew more frantic, her fingers curling into fists as her composure began to crack.

“Sir,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I’m begging you. Please… I need it.”

You crouched in front of her, the collar dangling from your fingers. Her eyes locked onto it instantly, her breath catching as if the air had been knocked from her lungs. But you didn’t move to put it on her. Instead, you leaned closer, your voice a low murmur. “Needing it isn’t enough. You’ll have to earn it, Hyunjin. Through action, not words. Can you do that?”

“Yes, Sir,” she said, her voice trembling but resolute. “I’ll do anything. I’ll prove myself.”

“Then keep proving it,” you replied, your tone firm as you straightened again. Her body tensed, and for a moment, she thought you were going to walk away. The thought must have terrified her, because she moved without thinking, her hands clasping around your ankle.

“Please, Sir,” she begged again, her voice raw with emotion. “Please… I’m sorry for taking it for granted. I’ll never do it again, I swear. Just give me a chance.”

You watched her for another long moment, letting her desperation sink in. Finally, you knelt again, holding the collar at eye level. Her eyes widened, hope flickering across her face, but she stayed still, trembling as you leaned in.

“This collar is not just a decoration,” you said, your voice low but deliberate. “It is a gift. A privilege. And for it to stay on, you’ll need to show me that you understand that.”

Her breath hitched as you moved closer, the collar brushing against her neck. Slowly, with deliberate care, you fastened it around her throat. The soft click of the buckle echoed in the room, final and absolute, like a vow being made. Her chest rose sharply as the familiar weight settled back into place, grounding her once again.

Her fingers twitched again, instinctively wanting to reach for it, but she stopped herself. You tilted her chin up with a single finger, your gaze locking onto hers.

“To keep this collar,” you said, your tone soft but firm, “you will face tests. Challenges that show me you’re worthy of wearing it. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir,” she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips slightly parted, and her wide eyes glistened with unshed tears. “Thank you, Sir. I won’t let you down. I promise.”

You let your hand linger on her chin for a moment longer before releasing her, your gaze steady as you straightened to your full height. Towering over her, your presence filled the space, commanding without a single word. She remained kneeling, her hands resting on her thighs, her posture perfect but trembling slightly as the weight of the moment settled over her.

“Good,” you said, your voice steady, firm. “Because this is your second chance. Don’t waste it.”

She swallowed hard, her breath shallow, her gaze flickering between your face and the collar now secure around her neck. The room seemed to hold its breath, the tension shifting into something heavier, warmer, charged with the quiet promise of something restored.

Slowly, you leaned down, your hand brushing her cheek as your lips met hers. The kiss began tentative, a gentle press of lips, testing the waters of the bond you were rebuilding. But it deepened quickly, fueled by the unspoken emotions of the past week. Her hands, still trembling, reached for your shoulders, clutching at you as though afraid you might pull away.

Your hand found the collar, your fingers curling around the leather as you tugged gently, pulling her closer. The sensation sent a visible shiver down her spine, her breath catching in her throat.

“You’ve missed this, haven’t you?” you murmured against her lips, your voice low and knowing.

“Yes,” she gasped, her voice trembling. “So much, Sir.”

A faint smile played across your lips as your grip on the collar tightened slightly, guiding her as the kiss deepened. The heat between you grew steadily, the air thick with the mingling scents of mint and her rising need. She pressed closer to you, her hands sliding down your chest, fingers clutching at your shirt as if anchoring herself in your presence. Each touch, each movement was an affirmation of the connection you had rebuilt, the trust slowly returning.

Her body leaned into yours instinctively, the energy between you palpable. You pulled back just enough to let her feel the tension lingering in the space between your bodies. Your hand, still curled around the collar, applied the slightest pressure, keeping her gaze locked on yours.

“Then show me ,” you said softly, your voice steady, deliberate.

Her breath hitched, her hands falling back to her thighs as she lowered her gaze slightly, the flush on her cheeks deepening. “Yes, Sir,” she whispered, her voice filled with reverence. The atmosphere between you was electric, charged with anticipation as she prepared to prove herself once more, piece by piece, rebuilding what had been fractured.

Hyunjin nodded, her body visibly tense with anticipation. Her fingers moved with care, unfastening the button on your pants and sliding the zipper down. The soft sound of fabric shifting against the leather chair seemed deafening in the silence. Her breath hitched as she tugged your pants and boxers down, her cheeks flushed as you were exposed to her fully.

Her wide eyes flickered upward, a mix of nervousness and need shining in them as she hesitated for a moment. You didn’t speak, letting her feel the weight of the moment, your hand moving to rest lightly on her head. That gentle guidance was all she needed to lean forward, her lips parting as she placed a soft, tentative kiss at the base of your length. Her warm breath brushed against you as she began, her tongue tracing a slow, deliberate path upward.

Her movements grew more confident as she worked, her lips wrapping around you, taking you deeper with each pass. The soft moans that escaped her vibrated against your skin, the sound sending a jolt of heat through your body. You threaded your fingers into her hair, your grip firm but not harsh, guiding her pace as she moved with increasing fervor.

“Good girl,” you murmured, your voice low and approving. She responded immediately, her pace quickening, her tongue and lips working in perfect harmony. But just as the tension in the room began to build, you tightened your grip in her hair, pulling her back sharply.

“Stop,” you said firmly.

Her lips slipped off you with an audible pop, her eyes snapping up to meet yours, wide and questioning. Her chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, her hands still resting lightly on your thighs as she froze in place. The sight of her—lips glistening, cheeks flushed, her pupils blown wide with desire—sent a wave of satisfaction through you, but you held your expression steady.

“Look at it,” you commanded, your voice calm but unyielding. “Just look.”

She swallowed hard, her gaze dropping to your length. Her hands twitched against your thighs, her lips parting slightly as she stared, her breathing ragged. The heat between you was palpable, thick in the air as the seconds stretched on.

“Sir,” she whispered, her voice trembling.

“Not yet,” you replied, your tone firm. “You’ll wait until I say.”

Her fingers dug slightly into your thighs, her need evident in the way her body shifted, her legs pressing together subtly. The denial was working—her arousal was unmistakable, her lips trembling as she obeyed, her gaze fixed on you.

“Resume,” you said after a long moment, your hand loosening its grip on her hair.

She dove back eagerly, her mouth enveloping you with renewed fervor. Her moans grew louder, more desperate, her movements quicker, more precise. The warmth of her mouth, the slickness of her tongue, and the soft, muffled sounds she made sent sparks of pleasure through you.

Just as her pace became frantic, you tugged on her hair again, pulling her back abruptly. Her head tilted up, her lips red and swollen, her eyes glassy with desperation. A soft whimper escaped her as she looked at you, her need etched into every line of her face.

“Stop,” you said again, your voice sharp.

“Sir,” she whimpered, her voice breaking. “Please.”

You tilted your head slightly, observing her with quiet intensity. “Please, what?”

“Let me continue,” she begged, her voice trembling. “I need to, Sir. I need to.”

Your lips curled into a faint smile as you leaned forward slightly, your thumb brushing over her swollen lower lip. “You’ll wait,” you said, your tone commanding. “Until I’m ready.”

Her body visibly trembled, her arousal spilling over into every movement. Her thighs pressed together tighter, her hands clutching at the fabric of your pants as if anchoring herself. She was desperate, her need growing with every second you held her back.

Finally, you tugged her closer pulling her head down slightly. “Resume,” you said, your voice low and rough.

She whimpered softly, the sound drenched in need, her lips parting as she immediately obeyed. Her mouth found you again, her movements feverish, as if every second away had only amplified her desperation. Her tongue glided along your length with reverence, each flick and swirl precise, her lips sealing around you as her moans vibrated against your skin. Her soft, muffled sounds filled the room, fueling the intensity of the moment. Her submission was complete, every movement a display of her devotion and longing to please.

The tension inside you built higher with every stroke, every delicate movement of her lips, her frantic need feeding your own growing pleasure. Her breath came in quick huffs through her nose as she worked, her hands lightly gripping your thighs for stability. She was utterly lost in the moment, her entire focus on serving you, and it was intoxicating.

With a firm tug on the collar, you pulled her head back once more, her lips slipping off you with a soft, breathy whine of frustration. Her wide, pleading eyes locked onto yours, her need written plainly on her flushed face. Her breaths came in shallow, desperate gasps, her chest rising and falling as she tried to steady herself.

"Strip," you ordered, your voice steady and commanding.

Her trembling hands immediately moved to obey, her fingers fumbling slightly in her haste as she shed her clothes. The fabric slid from her body, pooling on the floor as she stood before you, bare and vulnerable. Her skin glowed in the flickering candlelight, every curve and line of her body laid out for your gaze. She shivered, a mix of anticipation and arousal coursing through her, but she didn’t waver, her eyes cast downward in submission.

“Now, get on the bed,” you said, your tone leaving no room for hesitation. “On all fours.”

She scrambled to comply, her movements quick but deliberate, the urgency in her actions undeniable. The mattress dipped slightly beneath her as she positioned herself, her knees sinking into the plush surface. Her back arched instinctively, her head bowing submissively, her hands gripping the sheets tightly as if anchoring herself. Her breath hitched audibly as you stepped behind her, the leash in your hand taut, its tension a constant reminder of your control.

Reaching for the leash attachment on the bedside table, you let the quiet sound of metal against wood fill the room. Her body tensed at the faint clink, her breath catching as she froze in place, her anticipation palpable. The polished attachment glinted in the candlelight as you clicked it into place on her collar, the sound sharp and commanding. A tremor ran through her as the leash went taut, and you gave it a testing tug, pulling her head back slightly.

“You’ve done well,” you murmured, your free hand trailing over the curve of her spine, feeling the way her body shivered beneath your touch. “But I’m not done testing you yet.”

Her whimper was soft, her voice barely audible over the quiet tension in the room. Her hips shifted instinctively, pressing back slightly, seeking more of your touch as though her body had a will of its own. The leash in your hand grew taut as you pulled her back, her movement halted with deliberate precision. A shiver ran through her, and the small sound that escaped her lips was almost a plea, fragile and raw.

You smirked at her eagerness, letting your hand slide to her hips, gripping them firmly to keep her still. “Desperate already?” you murmured, your tone edged with amusement. The heat of your palm against her skin only heightened the tension, her trembling body betraying the effort it took to remain obedient.

Slowly, you teased her, letting the tip of you brush against her entrance, the barest touch enough to make her tense and gasp. Her thighs quivered, her breath catching audibly as her body trembled with restrained anticipation. Her need was palpable, her entire form aching for more, yet she remained frozen, holding herself steady with a visible effort that only deepened your satisfaction.

“Patience,” you said sharply, your voice slicing through her whimper. The leash tightened slightly, a reminder of your control. “You’ll take what I give you. Nothing more.”

“Yes, Sir,” she whispered, her voice shaky yet obedient, her words punctuated by shallow, unsteady breaths.

You pressed forward just enough to enter her, your movements slow and deliberate, the sensation electric as her body responded instantly. Her muscles clenched tightly around you, a soft, broken cry escaping her lips as her fingers curled into the sheets. Her need was overwhelming, radiating from her trembling frame, yet she didn’t move, her submission absolute even as her desire consumed her.

“Don’t move,” you commanded, your tone low but firm.

“Yes, Sir,” she gasped, her voice filled with effort as she fought to remain still. Her fingers dug deeper into the sheets, her knuckles white as her body vibrated with barely restrained longing. Every breath was a struggle, her soft whimpers growing louder as you stayed motionless, letting the weight of the stillness press down on her.

But then, instinct betrayed her. Her hips shifted ever so slightly, seeking more of you, her desperation winning out for a fleeting moment. The rustle of the leash was sharp as you pulled it taut, her head jerking back as your hand came down sharply on her ass with a loud, resounding smack. She yelped, the sound a mix of pain and pleasure, her body jolting forward even as she froze in realization.

“What did I say?” you growled, your voice low and commanding, the leash a firm tether in your hand.

“Not to move,” she whimpered, her voice trembling with both need and apology.

“Then don’t,” you snapped, your tone sharp, leaving no room for argument.

“Yes, Sir,” she replied quickly, her words laced with desperation as she braced herself, her hands gripping the sheets tighter.

Leaning forward, you pressed in further, filling her slowly, deliberately, her sharp gasp echoing in the room as her body quivered around you. Her whimpers grew louder, her breaths shallow and uneven as her restraint began to unravel. The tension between you was palpable, the air charged with her aching desire and your unyielding control.

Again, she moved—a tiny, involuntary tilt of her hips, but it was enough. Without hesitation, you tugged the leash sharply, pulling her head back as your hand came down on her other cheek with another sharp smack. Her cry was louder this time, her body jolting beneath you as the sting radiated across her skin.

“You’ll wait until I allow it,” you said, your voice a growl. “Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir,” she whispered, her voice breaking, her body trembling as she tried to steady herself.

The leash tightened in your hand as you leaned over her, your lips brushing against her ear. “Good girl,” you murmured, the words low and deliberate, sending a shiver down her spine. “Now, let’s see if you can do better.”

You stayed still inside her, savoring the way her body clenched around you, her desperation growing with each passing second. Her soft, broken whimpers filled the room, every sound a testament to her struggle and her need. Her knuckles turned white as she gripped the sheets, her entire body trembling with the effort to obey.

When she moved again—a subtle, instinctive tilt of her hips—you didn’t hesitate. The leash tightened sharply, pulling her head back as your hand came down once more with a sharp smack. The sound reverberated through the room, her cry echoing louder, her body jolting before falling still.

“Again?” you growled, your tone low and dangerous. “Have you not learned?”

“I’m sorry, Sir,” she whimpered, her voice cracking, her words tumbling out quickly. “I’ll be good. I’ll be still.”

“Prove it,” you said sharply, your grip on the leash firm, holding her exactly where you wanted her. “Show me you deserve this.”

She nodded frantically, her breaths coming in soft, broken gasps as she fought to hold herself steady. Her body quivered beneath you, every inch of her radiating need, but she didn’t move again. The leash in your hand was a constant reminder of her submission, the tension pulling her further into the moment as her fingers gripped the sheets tightly, her knuckles white.

You pressed into her fully, slow and deliberate, filling her completely. Her sharp gasp echoed in the room, her body instinctively clenching around you as she felt the stretch of you inside her. But you didn’t move. You held her there, buried deep, the weight of the stillness pressing down on her.

“Do you want me to move?” you asked, your voice low, calm, and teasing.

“Yes, Sir,” she whispered, her voice trembling with need. “Please.”

You stayed perfectly still as the tension built between you. Without warning, you twitched inside her, the subtle movement making her entire body jolt. A broken whimper spilled from her lips, her thighs trembling as she clenched around you again, her breath shaky.

“Is that what you wanted?” you asked, your tone almost mocking.

“More,” she whimpered, her voice cracking. “Please, Sir. Give me more.”

Another twitch. Her cry was louder this time, her back arching slightly as the sensation rippled through her. Her hands clutched at the sheets, her entire body quivering with desperation.

“Why should be so generous?” you murmured, your voice calm, almost curious. “Have you earned it?”

“I—I’ll earn it,” she stammered, her words tumbling out in a breathless rush. “Please, Sir, I’ll do anything. I’m sorry. Please.”

You leaned over her slightly, the leash in your hand taut as your free hand slid down her back, your touch soft, teasing. “Anything?” you asked, your lips brushing against her ear.

“Yes,” she gasped, her voice trembling. “Anything.”

Her body tensed as she waited, anticipation written in every trembling muscle. Then, you twitched again, the small, deliberate movement sending another jolt of sensation through her. Her cry was a mix of frustration and arousal, her thighs pressing together as she fought to stay still.

“Please,” she begged, her voice raw and desperate. “Please, Sir, I’ll be good. I won’t move. Just—please.”

Her desire was palpable, her submission complete as body trembled beneath you. You stayed still for a long moment, letting her desperation simmer, the leash pulling her head back slightly as a reminder of your control.

Finally, you pulled back all the way, the cool air brushing between you as her breath hitched, her body trembling with anticipation. Her hands gripped the sheets tighter, her entire form taut, waiting for your next move. Without warning, you thrust into her fully, your entire length filling her in one deliberate motion. A loud cry escaped her lips, raw and unrestrained, her body clenching tightly around you in response. But she stayed completely still, every muscle tense, holding herself in perfect submission despite the overwhelming sensation.

You stayed there, buried deep inside her, your hand trailing down her back in a slow, soothing motion. Her breath came in shallow, ragged gasps, her entire body trembling with the effort to hold herself still. “Good girl,” you murmured, your voice low and warm, laced with pride. “You listened this time.”

“Thank you, Sir,” she whispered, her voice trembling but steady, filled with quiet gratitude. Her submission radiated from every inch of her body, her fingers gripping the sheets so tightly her knuckles turned white.

Slowly, you pulled back again, her breath catching as she braced herself. Then, without warning, you thrust into her a second time, your motion smooth and deliberate, your entire length filling her completely. Her cry was louder this time, her voice breaking as her body clenched around you again. But once more, she didn’t move. She held herself perfectly still, her submission unwavering, her breath shaky as she fought the overwhelming sensations.

The leash in your hand stayed taut, keeping her aligned with your control, her body bent to your will. You leaned forward slightly, your breath warm against the back of her neck as you murmured, “That’s what I wanted to see. You’re doing so well.”

“Thank you, Sir,” she gasped, her voice barely a whisper, trembling with relief and pride.

This time, you began to move, your pace slow and deliberate, the shift a clear and deliberate reward for her obedience. The relief in her voice was almost tangible, her muffled cries spilling out with each thrust, each sound a testament to the weight lifted from her desperation. Her body responded instinctively, perfectly aligned with your rhythm, the curve of her back arching as though offering herself entirely to you.

The leather leash in your hand stayed taut, a constant tether to her submission, its tension drawing her further into the moment. Each measured thrust pressed her hips forward, only for her to press back with a growing urgency, her movements eager yet restrained, still seeking your permission in every motion. The slick heat of her enveloped you completely, her body clinging with a fervent need that made the air between you crackle with intensity.

Her cries grew louder, each sound a mix of pleasure and surrender, her voice rising in raw emotion with every deliberate thrust. Your grip on the leash tightened, and you pulled her head back sharply, eliciting a sharp gasp from her lips. Her neck arched beautifully, her vulnerability on full display as she submitted to the pull of the leather.

In a fluid motion, you wrapped the supple leash around her head, positioning it snugly between her lips. The soft leather pressed firmly into her mouth, transforming her cries into muffled, broken sounds of pleasure and need. The gagged whimpers and desperate breaths filled the room, blending with the rhythmic sound of your movements. Her body trembled beneath you, every shudder and quiver a display of her surrender, her raw need laid bare.

"This," you murmured, your voice low and edged with a commanding roughness as you leaned in, your lips grazing the delicate curve of her ear. "This is who you truly are," you continued, your breath warm against her skin, each word sinking into her like a brand. "Your best self," you whispered, the possessiveness in your tone undeniable, each syllable deliberate, drawing her deeper into the moment. "Completely mine."

Her muffled response was unintelligible but filled with emotion, her entire body reacting to the weight of your claim. Her hands gripped the sheets with white-knuckled intensity, her nails scraping against the fabric as her body buckled beneath the steady, purposeful rhythm you set. The leather pressed into her lips, the tension in the leash anchoring her fully in the moment, as if nothing else in the world existed except your control and her submission.

Her cries reached a fever pitch as you slowed abruptly, pressing deep inside her and holding completely still. The sudden lack of motion made her freeze, her muffled whines of frustration breaking the quiet tension in the room. She clenched around you instinctively, her body desperate for the friction and release that had been so cruelly denied. Her desperation filled the air, thick and electric, as she quivered beneath you.

“You don’t get to cum until I give you permission,” you growled, your voice low and commanding. “Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir,” she whimpered, her voice shaky, her words muffled by the leash pressing against her lips. Her hands gripped the sheets tightly, her knuckles white as she fought to obey, every fiber of her being screaming for relief. Her body trembled violently, her thighs quivering as she remained perfectly still, holding herself together only through sheer willpower.

You began to move again, deliberately slow, each thrust measured and purposeful. Her muffled cries grew louder, her hips instinctively pressing back into you, desperate to match your rhythm, to take more of you. But each time her movements matched yours, you slowed again, the leash taut in your hand a constant reminder of her place.

"Patience," you said sharply, landing a firm slap on her ass. The sound echoed in the room, followed by a sharp gasp as she jolted slightly under your touch. Her body trembled, the sting blooming across her skin as a mix of pain and pleasure heightened her arousal.

You smirked at her reaction and spanked her again, your hand coming down with enough force to draw a muffled cry from her lips. Her muscles tightened around you, her body reacting instinctively as her breath hitched. “You take what I give you, nothing more, nothing less” you ordered, your voice a low growl. 

She nodded frantically, her breaths ragged as her body trembled with the effort to obey. Her submission sent a thrill through you, and you rewarded her with another deliberate spank, your palm landing squarely on her other cheek. Her cry was louder this time, her body jolting forward as the sensation spread through her.

“Good girl,” you murmured, your tone approving but firm. “I can feel how much you want it. Is this all it takes to make you fall apart?”

Her muffled cries grew more frantic as you thrust into her again, slow but deep, her body tensing with every motion. The deliberate pace was maddening, designed to keep her on edge without letting her tip over. You spanked her once more, the sound of the impact followed by a sharp whimper that was pure need.

Then, leaning over her, you tugged the leash tighter, tilting her head back. Your breath was warm against her ear as you growled, “Where do you deserve my cum?”

Her muffled response was immediate, frantic. “Inside, Sir,” she gasped, her voice trembling as her hips instinctively pressed back against you. “Please, Sir, inside. Fill me.”

You smirked, leaning closer, your voice low and teasing as you asked, “Do you think you’ve earned that?”

“Yes, Sir,” she whimpered, her voice cracking with desperation. “I’ll be good—I’ll do anything. Please, Sir, I need it.”

You spanked her again, the sharp smack drawing a broken cry from her lips. Her body jolted, her thighs trembling as she clenched tightly around you. “Then beg for it,” you commanded, your voice thick with authority.

“Please, Sir,” she sobbed, her voice trembling with emotion as she broke completely. “Please let me have it. I’ll do anything—I’m yours. Please let me feel it.”

Tightening your grip on the leash, you thrust into her slowly, deeply, savoring the way her body trembled beneath you. “Good girl,” you murmured, your voice a low rumble against her ear. “You’ve earned it.”

Your pace quickened, each thrust deliberate and deep as the tension between you reached its peak. Her muffled cries turned to sobs of relief and pleasure, her body responding instinctively as she gave herself over completely. The connection between you was electric, her submission feeding your control as the leash stayed taut in your hand, keeping her exactly where you wanted her.

Leaning closer, your voice dropping to a low growl. “Who do you belong to?” you demanded, the authority in your tone leaving no room for hesitation.

“You, Sir,” she gasped, her voice trembling but resolute, her entire body arching under your control.

You thrust harder, making her cry out as you repeated, “Say it again.”

“You, Sir! Only you!” she sobbed, her voice raw with submission as her body shuddered.

"Good," you murmured, your voice thick with satisfaction as you leaned in closer, tightening your grip on the leash-turned-gag. The leather pressed snugly between her lips, muffling her cries as her body quivered beneath you. "Never forget it."

You didn’t give her time to respond. Your hips began to move with unrelenting purpose, each thrust harder and deeper than the last. The room was filled with the rhythmic sound of your movements and her muffled cries, raw and desperate, vibrating through the leather gag. Her body arched beneath you, trembling with the effort to hold herself steady, her fingers clutching the sheets so tightly her knuckles turned white.

Her thighs quivered as she clenched around you, her body reacting instinctively to your relentless pace. Each sharp motion drew another muffled moan from her lips, her cries growing higher, more frantic, as her body teetered closer to the edge. The leash stayed taut in your hand, pulling her head back just enough to keep her perfectly aligned to your will.

Her entire form shook beneath you, her body taut with tension as the heat between you built to a fever pitch. Her muffled sounds became a pleading melody, her desperation spilling out with every motion as her submission deepened. You could feel the way she clenched tighter, her body begging for permission even without words, every inch of her crying out for release.

You pulled the leash back, the leather taut between your fingers, leaning into her ear as your voice dropped to a sharp, commanding growl. “Now. Cum for me.”

Her release was immediate, her body convulsing beneath you as a muffled scream tore from her lips, raw and unrestrained. Her walls clenched tightly around you, the intensity of her climax gripping you like a vice, pulling a guttural groan from your throat. Her limbs shook uncontrollably, her strength failing as her muscles gave out. Her body became weightless against the collar, her submission leaving her completely at your mercy.

The leash in your hand became a lifeline, pulling her back as her head tilted, her breath hitching in sobbing gasps. Each wave of her release rolled through her, leaving her trembling and arching into you, her body unable to do anything but feel. Her fingers clawed weakly at the sheets before falling away entirely, her arms limp, her legs shaking so violently they could no longer support her weight.

You didn’t let up, your thrusts deep and deliberate, each motion designed to draw every ounce of her climax from her quivering body. Her walls pulsed around you, the sensation almost too much as she squeezed tighter with every tremor, her body desperately holding onto you. The heat of her, the way her back arched instinctively, and the desperate, muffled cries that spilled from her lips pushed you closer to the edge.

“That’s it,” you growled, your voice low and rough, satisfaction lacing every word as her sobs softened, her trembling body still clenched tightly around you. Leaning over her, your breath brushed her ear, sending a shiver through her overstimulated form. “Take it all.”

Her submission fueled your own release, the way she surrendered entirely to the moment, her body collapsing beneath you. You thrust into her one final time, burying yourself as deep as possible as the pleasure surged through you, your groan low and primal as your release hit. The sensation of filling her completely, the warmth of it spreading between you, sent another shockwave through her. Her body tensed again, her climax reigniting in perfect rhythm with yours, her walls tightening and pulsing as if to draw every drop from you.

Her muffled cries broke into breathless sobs, her body trembling violently as the overwhelming sensation left her utterly undone. The collar pressed firmly against her neck, grounding her even as her limbs refused to obey her, her submission total. Each pulse of your release seemed to extend her own, the shared intensity forging a connection so powerful it felt as though the air around you crackled with it.

As the last tremors of your climax subsided, you stayed buried inside her, the weight of your body pressing her into the mattress. The leash remained taut in your hand, a steady reminder of her surrender, the collar snug against her flushed skin. Her body slowly relaxed, her trembling subsiding into soft, uneven breaths, her whimpers barely audible as her submission became absolute.

You leaned down, your lips brushing softly against the back of her neck, your breath warm and soothing as it ghosted over her flushed skin. “Good girl,” you murmured, your voice low and filled with satisfaction. “You took it so well.” The heat between you lingered, a tangible reminder of the bond you had just reaffirmed, the connection pulsing in the quiet intimacy of the moment.

Her voice was a trembling whisper, filled with gratitude and exhaustion. “Thank you, Sir.”

You loosened your grip on the leash slightly, one hand sliding soothingly along her back as her breathing steadied. The quiet weight of the shared moment settled over both of you, a tangible understanding of control, devotion, and the bond that held you together. Her body relaxed beneath you, pliant and trusting, the tension of the night ebbing away.

As you moved to release the binding and settle beside her, she surprised you. Slowly, shakily, she pushed herself up, her limbs trembling with effort, and turned to face you. Her knees met the floor, her movements reverent despite her exhaustion. She knelt there, her gaze steady but soft, shining with unspoken emotion as she clasped her hands lightly in front of her.

“Thank you, Sir,” she said, her voice wavering but firm, her head bowing slightly in deference. “Thank you for giving me another chance. I promise I’ll never take it for granted again.”

The sincerity in her tone struck something deep within you, her submission layered with gratitude and determination. You reached out, cupping her face gently in your hand, tilting her chin so her eyes met yours. For a moment, the world seemed to narrow to just the two of you, the depth of her devotion reflected back in her gaze.

“I believe you,” you said softly, your thumb brushing over her cheek as her eyes glistened with unspoken emotion. “And I’ll hold you to that promise.”

The connection between you was palpable, the quiet intimacy of the moment settling like a balm over the intensity of everything that had come before. As she knelt there, a renewed sense of trust and devotion radiating from her, you felt the unbreakable bond between you solidify once more.

You reached down, your fingers brushing lightly against her chin as you guided her off her knees. Her body moved with a hesitant grace, her legs trembling slightly from the intensity of the moment. She followed your lead without question, her wide eyes flicking up to meet yours, silently searching for reassurance as you helped her onto the bed. The mattress dipped beneath her weight as she settled, her hands clutching the sheets tightly, knuckles whitening as though anchoring herself.

When you reached toward the collar around her neck, her breath hitched audibly, her entire body going rigid beneath your touch. “Sir…” she whispered, her voice trembling with uncertainty. “Please… don’t take it off. I’ll do better, I promise.”

Her plea was laced with desperation, her chest rising and falling in uneven breaths as her gaze darted between your hands and your face, searching for any hint of mercy. A small, involuntary shiver ran through her, and her fingers twitched against the sheets, her need to hold onto the collar palpable.

You paused deliberately, your hand still resting against the cool leather. Leaning closer, you met her panicked gaze, your voice calm but firm, the tone leaving no room for argument. “This isn’t punishment,” you said, your breath warm as it ghosted over her cheek. “You’ve earned it back, but I need to take care of you first.”

The words hung in the air, steady and unyielding, and her resolve cracked just slightly. She nodded, swallowing hard, the submission in her posture softening into trust as she tilted her head, baring her neck for you. Even as she complied, her lips parted as though she wanted to speak again, but no words came. Her breathing quickened as the soft click of the buckle echoed in the room, impossibly loud against the quiet backdrop. You slipped the collar off carefully, her skin faintly red where the leather had rested. The collar felt heavier in your hand than usual as you set it on the bedside table, its presence a silent promise.

Her gaze followed the collar until it was out of sight, her trembling form still taut with unspoken emotion. Before she could voice any of it, you leaned in, your lips brushing against the now-bare skin of her neck. The first kiss was featherlight, your breath warm and soothing against her flushed skin, a deliberate reassurance. Her body shivered beneath you, a soft, involuntary sound escaping her lips as you began to trail kisses along the delicate curve of her neck.

Each kiss was purposeful, slow and deliberate, leaving a path of heat in their wake. You felt her breath catch, the tension in her shoulders melting under the tender press of your lips. When you reached the sensitive spot beneath her ear, you lingered, your teeth grazing her skin gently before sucking just enough to leave a faint mark. Her gasp was sharp, her hands tightening their grip on the sheets as a visible shudder ran through her.

“These,” you murmured against her skin, your voice low and possessive, “will be your substitute until tomorrow. A reminder of who you belong to.”

“Yes, Sir,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, trembling with emotion. Her body sank deeper into the bed as you continued, your mouth leaving faint marks that dotted her neck like a constellation of your claim. Each kiss was deliberate, your teeth grazing her skin just enough to send another wave of sensation coursing through her. By the time you finished, her breaths were shallow, her body completely relaxed, her submission absolute.

Satisfied, you reached for the lotion on the bedside table, the faint scent of vanilla filling the air as you warmed it between your palms. “Lift your chin,” you instructed gently, your tone soft but commanding. She obeyed instantly, her head tilting back to expose the expanse of her neck, her trust in you evident in the way she remained perfectly still.

The cool lotion met her heated skin, and she shivered under your touch, the contrast heightening her awareness of the care you were giving her. Your fingers moved slowly, deliberately, smoothing the lotion over the faint redness left by the collar. Each stroke was tender, soothing, a tactile affirmation of her worth and your devotion.

When you finished, you leaned in one last time, pressing a soft kiss to the base of her neck. “Tomorrow,” you promised, your voice steady, carrying the weight of your conviction. “You’ll wear it again.”

Her voice broke slightly as she whispered, “Thank you, Sir.”

You stayed close, your hands resting lightly on her shoulders as her breathing steadied. The room settled into a quiet hum of intimacy, the bond between you unspoken but profound. The collar rested nearby, waiting for its return, but the marks you left on her skin and the care you had shown were enough to remind her of everything she had earned.

[secretaccountlol]

okay but what are we thinking about loud! mark? i see all (only 2 lol) these loud readers but no loud!mark centered fics. whats your head-canons or anything you can think of on him?

(i hope this is an ask, right?)

-🎀✨

Okay, first I fuckin wrote this whole request out already and tumblr DELETED IT. SO SRRY FOR HOW LONG IT TOOK ME TO REPLYYYY

 I had to take a break from my computer for its safety 🥰

 18+ smuT POOKIES NO MINORS THX !!!

BUT ITS FINE !!!

Yeah.. we don’t have any loud mark fics so I’ll be the first >:) muwahhah I made the reader gender neutral hope that’s okay.

 LOUD! MARK Headcanoonsss!!!!

It's not like he doesn't try to be quiet sometimes, but it just doesn't work. For example, you decided to visit your folks for the first time, and after a full day of yapping and family fun;

 

You make the executive decision that now’s the time to get a little frisky in your childhood bedroom.

 

I mean, he really does try to stay silent, he makes little noises but as soon as soon as he feels his cock stretch out your aching hole, his eyes roll back.

Does he already have his shirt in his mouth because he already foresaw the future of him not being able to stay quiet? Well, yes!

Does that stop the moans from leaking out? No.

As soon as your bodies collide, and the delicious smacking sounds of his cock sliding into your tight hole are sinfully audible, he moans. Hard and fast.

Your arms flail in front of his face trying to get him to quiet down. Was it as loud as he usually was?

No…not exactly, but anyone who walked by your door would definitely know you were fucking in here.

“Mark! Shhh!”

“I— I’m trying! Fuck you just… feelsogood—!”

It could have been his moans seeping through his shirt, or maybe it was the clear drag marks on the floor from your bed being mysteriously moved.

Or maybe it was the loud thumping noise all night.

Regardless, next time you and Mark came over, your parents made him sleep on the couch..

 

Yes, Mark is loud but, that doesn’t mean he just moans.. nah. He teases and compliments too. Especially when he’s feeling dominant.

 

You’re in prone bone, his hand comfortably resting on the base of your neck keeping your head up as he ruts into you.

It’s slow and methodical. The way he fucks into you is precise, as he chuckles at the small sounds you make under him.

“Fuck— yes, yeah take it, take it, I know you can, baby.”

“Oo, like when I hit it there. Hm? Your tightin’ up sooo much, ah..”

God forbid, he can see your face.

“Come on, baby keep those pretty eyes on me, please?”

“Stick out your tongue, sweetheart.. yeah there we go, cute.”

“You can barely speak right now, huh? Don’t worry, I can do aalll the talking.”

 

Oh, also imagine trying to do some impromptu public sex. God. You’d be arrested.

He’s way too obvious for you to drive straight in.

So you try to warm him up by running your hands up and down his thigh, toying with his belt buckle.

 

Then you go for the kill, slipping your hand into his boxers, your hands grasping the quickly hardening member.

But whatever words attempt to crawl from him, stumble, and crash in his throat as you pump lazily.

You feigned innocence, batting your eyelashes at him as you questioned him sweetly. “Are you okay?” Your friends are also looking at him with concern.

The once chatty man is now reduced to stammers.

 

“Yeah! Sorry— choked..”

You nod, laying your head on his shoulder. It seemed to be a cute gesture, a loving couple cuddling at a table.

But in reality, it was much more devious. Leaning against his chest made it easier to side your hand deeper into his pants as you tugged rhythmically.

Your friends continue talking as you nod along, squeezing the base of the shaft as he grits and whines through his teeth.

His ears tinged with red. The metallic taste lingers in his mouth; his lip splits from his teeth sinking into the soft flesh to keep him from moaning.

Your friends noticed again, asking him if he was okay, if he had a fever. But no, he’s stubborn.

 

“I— m’fine!” Your thumb swipes over the tip of cock, he damns near jumps under the table.

 

Your speed now makes it impossible for him to clamp his mouth, he tries to cover his mouth as he hiccups out moans, but you snatch it down under the guise of “wanting to hold his hand”.

 

He tries to stuff food into his mouth, with his other hand, trying to muffle the moans but that leads to him actually choking.

It works out in the end though, because you finally have an excuse to leave.

You usher him out muttering apologies as he tries to calm himself.

You get your shit kicked in bad when you get home, though.

How many hours? You don’t know but the sun is down now.

It’s like a crime scene.. but with cum.

Your back is sore from being bent like a pretzel, that brilliant mind of yours is reduced to a bucket of buzzing desire.

Totally worth it.

[pigeonpeach]

Little Omega~

Summary: omega female reader goes into heat around the genshin women

VERY EXPLICIT LIKE EXTREMLY EXPLICIT MINORS DNI

Contains: girl c0ck, breeding, dubious maybe? Little degradation, lots of breeding actually,

Arlecchino, Beidou & Ningguang, Yae Miko & Ei, Jean & Lisa

Arlecchino

“Say it.” Her voice grew deep as her hips pounded into you from behind, your uniform shredded as your hips helplessly bucked into hers, her arms wrappex around you, keeping you in place. You never knew your boss had a.. cock but oh god you weren’t complaining now. You didn’t realize your heat would be today as it just suddenly sprung onto you with no warning. You hid from the children asking the other staff to cover for you. You weren’t able to leave safely and you also couldn’t find appropriate hiding spot, in the end your scent ended up setting off Arlecchino’s rut and here you were. Now reduced to a mere toy.

“Breed me! Breed me!” You whined. “Fill my insides! Oh god! I wanna be full! Please! More!” Her lips were right to your making you shudder as she bit your earlobe.

“I’m going to mark you.” She said. You barely has time to process when she bit your scent glands making you spazz. You felt yourself climax on the spot. Hormones pumping through your veins. You were so overwhelmed you went numb for a second as blood dribbled from her bite, her teeth firmly sunk in as her hips continued to pump in, emptying her seed right at your cervix, filling your womb.

“Mmmf!” You moaned as you felt so docile. Your body felt so nice and warm, your cunt full and fucked. Your legs shuddered as you collapsed. “M-my my alpha~” you cooed sweetly. Arlecchino withdrew her teeth as she looked you in the eyes, your dumb and docile expression only fueling her more.

“My perfect little mate.” She kissed the bite mark left as you panted heavily. “We aren’t done.”

Yae Miko & Ei

A shrine maiden is usually not used as courtesan like this. Your cunt stretched around both the Puppet god and the kitsune’s cocks.

“PLEASE! OH! MY ARCHONS!” You whined. They showed no mercy. Yae, behind you, her hands massaging your tits the way a cow would be milked, and Ei who seemed just hyperfixated on watching your pussy convulse around her.

“You are most certainly pleasing your archons… oh I wish I could breed you my love but this body is only a puppet afterall.” Ei pouted.

“Well seeing how fertile this one is, I’ll have no problems knocking her up~” Yae purred right in your ear sending shivers down your spine. “Such a wonderful body, oh I do hope you know that now won’t be the only time you’ll be like this for us~”

“Pliant, docile… fertile..” Ei grumbled. “Oh and to think I deprived myself of this for a thousand years~”

“Please…please!” You wined before squirting suddenly. You convulsed as they stopped temporarily to admire the site.

“Such a wonderful view, I wish It could last for Eternity.” Ei purred.

“What was it you were begging for now little one?~” Yae asked

“D-don…don’t stop…” you whined.

“Truly a top quality slut.” Yae smirked.

“Don’t call her that, she’s clearly a virgin with how addicted she’s become.” Ei brushed your hair out of your face as your dazed eyes met hers. “Don’t worry dear, you will be satisfied.” And with that they resumed.

Beidou and Ningguang

“A excellent mouth you have there.” Ningguang had you bent over as you lapped at her cunt eagerly. While from behind Beidou pounded into you. He hands grabbing the sheets as she grumbled about something. “Such a prime little omega, a true jewel to add to my collection.” The beta purred.

“God… such a good cunt… fuck..” Beidou gasped.

“Its that good huh? It must be if it has you like that~” she teased. You felt squished as the two shared a brief kiss all the while you were struggling to breaths in-between the huge cock pounding into you and eating Ningguang out.

“Fuck… I’m going to… cum… shit!” Beidou barely gave a warning as your womb felt full quickly. Her hips stilled as she thrusted a few more times.

“Don’t worry, I know Captain Beidou is quite the overwhelming Alpha to take, especially considering your inexperience.” Ningguang pried you from her thighs as you panted, mindless and obedient, you looked at her as if she were a deity. And she did from this angle, her skin shined like diamonds. She moved you so you laid on your back, legs spread as you watched cum dribble out. You gawked at how hard Beidou was already. “Allow me to have a taste~” she said, her fingers prying your folds open so more would spill out. Meanwhile Beidou positioned herself behind her.

Jean and Lisa

“Oh… oh sweet Barbados…” you mumbled nonsense as Lisa rubbed something around your cunt making it losen slightly. While Jean was bitting marks and rutting against your behind, you were sat in her lap, in her office. You could faintly hear Kaeya redirecting anyone coming by as you tried to hold back any sounds. “Please please just put it inside.” You whispered. Lisa chuckled.

“You two are too impatient now. Hmm I suppose if you really want it~” she teased you with the sight of her bare cock as she lifted the front of her dress to show it. You eagerly took it in your mouth as she guided it so, Jean’s rubbed right between your folds. You could tell she was far gone from her frantic humping.

“Jean dear.. she wants it inside~” Lisa chuckled.

“Fuck… I can’t contain myself, I’ll end up knocking them up~” she whined. Your mind lit up as your hips grind against her cock, your moans muffled as you tried to encourage her. To your relief she finally complied.

“I wonder which one of us will end up inseminating your womb?” Lisa whispered.

[unintentionalseductress]

May I request a situation where Kento suddenly turns corrupt in a way that he loses all respect and simply wants to sexually take advantage of fem!reader? Just fucking her rough like a rag doll. Whether it be a curse or aphrodisiac (that can be up to your amazing imagination) But of course, there’s consent and miss reader has a ball with it.

Ohhhh! This is what I needed to break back into writing JJK. But I feel like there's defiinitely some work out there where Kento rough fucks his s/o thanks to a curse or aphrodisiac and I was struggling to write something that felt fresh. This might be a little softer than what was asked because while I'm ok with writing degradation, I think Kento would struggle quite a bit with this.

I hope I've done this justice!

Warnings: MDNI, degradation, derogatory name calling, CNC, objectification, dacryphilia, free use, rough sex, S&M

Use Me

It's a quiet evening as your husband brings you a warm cup of coffee, pressing a kiss to you head as he sits next to you. He stretches and lets out a breath, relishing the peace, and puts an arm around you, drawing you closer for comfort. You sip quietly and appear lost in thought. Ever observant, Kento quirks an eyebrow at you.

"Something on your mind?" To his surprise, your eyes flick up to his over the coffee cup and a blush starts to dust over your cheeks and nose. "What's with that face?" Kento smiles, flattered at the sight and puts a hand on your wrist to lower the coffee cup. Your lips twist into an embarrassed smile and you shake your head, looking away.

"It's nothing I was just thinking about something." You sip and put the mug down on the table. Kento notices the way you hold yourself, the slight tension in your shoulders and the way your eyes look like you want to divulge a secret but were unsure if you should do so. The hand on your wrist slides and he lays his large, warm, hand over yours.

"What is it sweetheart?" He brushes away some stray strands of hair from your face. You bite your lip doubtfully, then decide to spill the beans. "Kento, there's something I want us to...try." You say in a strange tone, like you're still weighing the cons. Kento nods, encouraging you to go on.

"It's...related to sex."

This catches his interest. "Oh?"

"Yeah. It might not be something you're into."

"Try me." He reassuringly pulls you against him, allowing you a grateful moment of privacy as you hide your face in his neck. You clear your throat and continue.

"I want you to take advantage of me. Sexually."

"Am I not already doing that?" Kento jokes but you shake your head, your hair tickling his skin.

"I mean...I want to be used. Objectified. Degraded. Made to feel like I'm just a toy for your entertainment." You pause and he feels you take in a deep breath before continuing. "I basically want you to reduce me to being holes that you use for your pleasure and nothing more."

Kento's heart pounds in his chest as you word your request. "You want me to use you like that?"

"Yeah. And like, I don't want you to be gentle either. I want you to be rough. Like leave bite marks all over me. Don't have sex with me. Fuck me. Roughly. Hard." The blood in his veins grows hot and he pets your hair.

"Are you sure?"

"It's something I always wanted to try. Not that I don't like how it is now. But. I didn't know how to ask." You feel his lips nuzzle your ear and his hands reassuringly stroke your back.

"Sweetheart you know I'm willing to try a lot of things. But I never want to compromise your safety or well-being. I can be rough if you want. But you need to tell me if it's too much. I can't stand the thought of doing something that'll hurt you."

"You won't hurt me. And we have our safe word. I promise to use it." There's a moment of silence as Kento imagines how this would go. You're his favorite person in the whole world, whom he loves and respects. But at the same time, this idea has him incredibly aroused, the thought of using you to his will and forcing you to submit to debauched acts that he's never allowed himself to think about.

He presses another soft kiss to your forehead.

"If it'll make you happy then all right."

--------

You whimper as Kento bites your lower lip hard enough to draw blood, wiping away the blotch with his thumb. He's unrecognizable to you. You've only seen him like before for a specific scenario; when he's hunting down a curse. It sends a skitter of fear through you but also brings forth a strong rush of arousal that makes your cunt clench in need.

"Now remember slut, you're mine to be used. And I'm only letting you rest after I've fucked and filled you to my satisfaction. And if I hear you complaining, know that I have better uses for that mouth. Now on your knees."

You kneel, keeping your eyes trained on the floor, feeling your heart pounding at what was about to happen. Kento roughly yanks your head up by your hair. "Open."

You part your lips then gasp as he shoves his cock without warning, sliding the hard flesh down your throat. You try to relax your muscles, choking in relief as he comes up then repeats the action. You're on the verge of gagging before he gives you reprieve. Saliva drips from your mouth as he gathers your hair and pushes back in, holding you firmly in place until your nose hits his pubes before thursting forcefully, grunting at the slickness of your wet, willing mouth.

You feel your breathless from the effort of keeping him in your mouth, feeling him nearly touching the entrance to your throat, tears streaming from your eyes as you struggle to accomodate all of him. When he finally pulls out you take in a thankful breath of air, spluttering from the freedom.

"Pathetic. Can't even deepthroat cock. What good are you?" His hands wrap around your throat just hard enough to give you that dizzying light-headed feeling as your brain is deprived of air before letting go. He pauses, watching you writhe on the floor to catch your breath. Once it steadies, he commands you.

"Crawl."

Turned on and feeling debased, you get on your hands and knees and start crawling on the floor, your ass jiggling with each movement that you make. You hear footsteps then squeal as Kento's hand slaps the soft flesh. You freeze as the sting ripples through you before Kento jerks your head back by your hair.

"I didn't say to stop crawling. Stupid whore. Who said you can stop just because you felt a little pain?" He brings his hand down repeatedly as you pathetically begin to crawl again, sniffing as you go.

"Crying when you know this all you're good for? Stop acting like you're above this." He leaves your ass smarting, red and pulsing from his abuse. His calloused hands grab your fleshy cheeks and spread them apart and he chuckles darkly. "Don't tell me you're turned on."

You whimper as you feel him insert a finger into your moist hole, probing forcefully before withdrawing. "Just when I thought you could sink no lower. You really are nothing but a basic piece of meat just hoping a cock will fill you and make you feel like you have a purpose."

His finger withdraws and he pulls you up abruptly, his hands harshly squeezing your breasts, pinching your nipples aggressively and earning a keening noise from you, your whole body feeling a sensitive blob. He twists and pulls, and you squirm in his grasp, causing him to growl and grip your chin, his fingers digging into your skin.

"Stop acting like you want to escape." He firmly spanks your pussy and your body jolts from the surprise, a cry leaving you. "You crave this. Want this. Because deep down, you know there's nothing more you want than to be a glorified fucktoy. That's all. You're a vessel to hold my cum, if I decide you're worthy enough to receive it."

He pushes one of your breasts up to his mouth and suckles roughly and you can feel the edges of his teeth skimming along the sensitive peaks. Kento releases it and does the same for the other, and just when your senses start to calm down, he sinks his teeth into the nipple, just hard enough for you make a noise of pain. He smirks.

"Oh. So you do have a limit." He bites the other nipple with similar force and you let out a broken sob. "Tsk. You're not very good at being a fucktoy are you?"

He shoves you to the bed and you fall on the soft mattress. You hear the clink of chains and see him securing handcuffs around your ankles before securing the free ends to the bedposts, angling your legs so that they're spread apart wide. Your wet pussy is exposed to his feral eyes and he licks his lips at the sight of the glistening membranes. He flicks your clit cruelly, enjoying the way you twitch and struggle.

"Oh you're dumb aren't you? Haven't you learned what happens when you try to avoid me?" He spanks your clit again, and your eyes roll back into your head as you try to separate the confusing blur of pain and pleasure that shoots through you body.

"Why is it that the more pain I give you, the wetter your dumb whore cunt gets?" The resounding echo of his palm on your wet folds gets louder with each slap until your clit is swollen and red from the repeated blows.

"Look at that. You actually want more after all that." Before you can process what's happening, Kento shifts on the bed and plunges his hard cock into your pussy. The stretch makes you sob because you weren't quite ready for him, the push slightly painful, but as you adjust to him, the feeling fades. His movements are harsh and selfish, swiftly bottoming out each time and hitting your cervix, setting a brutal pace that has you feeling like you might black out.

You let out a shocked squeak as his thumb starts to manhandle your clit, brushing over it in savage strokes that bring you dangerously close to the edge. Strings of incoherent noises spill from your lips, sounding more and more animalistic as your brain turns off all rational thought and begins to fill with need. You just wanted to orgasm, then have the satisfaction of Kento's seed filling your wet channel, to feel him soften inside you before the next round....

You let a quivering wail as your orgasm hits and Kento huffs in satisfaction as he feels your walls clenching him as you cum. Your feet thrash against their restraints as the ripple of orgasmic pleasure rocks your body. "You can't help it can you? Being a cumslut?"

His hips start to pick up pace and slam into you as he chases his orgasm, his breathing becoming ragged, hands digging into your skin hard enough to leave bruises as he uses your hole to satisfy the raging, primal need that's fuelling his actions. His movements become sloppy and the edges of his vision start to blur.

"Here it comes. Your reward. Try not to spend it all in once place." With a final thrust, thick ropes of cum start to fill your insides and he shudders with the satisfaction. A moment passes before he pulls out of you, leaking his seed as he withdraws. You lay spent and exhausted on the bed.

Kento finally breaks character and crouches over you. "You didn't use your safe word."

"I didn't need to."

© unintentionalseductress original work | no copying, plagiarizing or translating

[heejake-hoon]

could you do something like this for enha? <3

https://www.tumblr.com/diorcities/751314995277692928/%F0%93%8F%B2-nct-dream-hand-placement?source=share

─Enhypen legal line hand placement─

Heeseung: Hair. He'd tangle his fingers in your locks tightly, using the grip to guide your motions on his thick shaft. With each thrust upwards, he'd yank your head back sharply, eliciting whimpers of painful pleasure. Making you feel owned, dominated, thoroughly used for his gratification as tears well in the corners of your eyes from the stinging pull.

Jay: Inner thighs. Spreading your legs obscenely wide, Jay would hook his hands under your knees, pinning them apart as he slams into your wetness relentlessly. The position leaves you completely exposed, vulnerable, legs trembling from the stretch. He'd drink in every lewd expression on your face unabashedly, reveling in how readily your body yields for him.

Jake: Wrists. Pinning your arms above your head with one strong hand, Jake would loom over you, hips snapping forward urgently. You're rendered immobile, defenseless against his onslaught of powerful thrusts that rock your petite frame. The flex of his biceps as he restrains you sends a delicious thrill down your spine.

Sunghoon: Throat. His hands would find your throat, long fingers wrapping around the delicate column as he slams into you from behind. You'd choke on your desperate moans as he squeezes, cutting off your gasping breaths with every punishing thrust. The intoxicating blend of pleasure and pain'd have your vision whiting out at the edges. He owns you utterly in this position, encasing your fragile neck as he claims you roughly.

Jungwon: Mouth. Jungwon would muffle your cries of bliss with his palm, fingertips digging into your cheeks as he pounds into your soaked entrance with sinful abandon. You suck greedily at the digits parting your lips, tasting yourself on his skin while he relentlessly chases his own release. The wet, obscene sounds of your joined bodies are music to his ears as he reduces you to a quivering, oversensitized mess.

Sunoo: Breasts. Sunoo's hands would knead and squeeze at your soft, plush breasts as he pounds into your drenched heat. His fingers would tug and twist at your hardened peaks, sending electric currents of pleasure-pain jolting through your body. You'd arch wantonly into his touch, pushing your heavy mounds together to create delicious friction against his palms. He revels in the way they bounce and jiggle with the force of his thrusts, marking your skin with rosy trails from his nails.

Sorry for being late, i've wrote it a long time ago but forgot to post it TT. Anyways hope u enjoy it🧡🧡

[aerenp]

warning: n$fw

Top amab werewolf reader x bottom amab monster fucker

-they can't help but get horny around you. They have to try to hide their hard on whenever you growl or hold them down playfully

-can't help but fanitise about your knot, you losing control during the full moon and breeding them all night

-you can smell their arousal and you make a game of teasing them and turning them on while acting oblivious

-hugging them, putting them on your lap like it's completely normal, calling them "your little human"-rubbing your scent on them to claim them from others which they can't smell

-going into your rut one day and them 'coicidently' coming to visit

-panting as you pin them down, trying to hold back but its so hard when they smell so strongly of want

-them baring their neck, knowing it from studying werewolf customs, daring you to mark them

-teeth grazing over their neck as you lick at a spot, them letting out a needy whine as they press into you

-not being able to hold back anymore and sinking your teeth into them to which they groan, hips bucking

-sucking and licking at your mark lovingly after until their hard on is straining painfully against their pants and they're squirming

-"please, just touch me already–"

-You're already ripping through their clothes and they don't even care about how much money they've spent on them

-Putting their length into your mouth eagerly, they have to hold themselves back from coming straight away

-their hands clutch your hair tightly as your hot tongue circles their cock and your head moves up and down

-they come quickly and you swallow it all down hungrily, sucking it out eagerly

-they're still sensitive but just as quickly you're already lifting their legs up easily as you lick at their entrance

-they tremble slightly, letting out keening moans as your long tongue circles their hole and pressing the tip in

-they quickly harden again as you start to stretch them open with a finger, then two, putting their legs on your shpulders

-you fuck them with your fingers, thrusting them into their prostate, "Wait, wait, wait– I'm gonna come again–"

-But you love to see them come, you watch as they shudder, eyes rolling back as their cum splatters over their chest

-they quiver as you lay them down again, licking up every drop from their chest, their eyes wetten from overstimulation, "I'm still– sensitive-" and though they tell you to stop you can smell their desire

-you start to take off your clothes, but they tell you to wait before taking them off themselves, their mouth watering as they pull out your large fully erect cock.

-you lean over them, cock lining up to their entrance, "Put it in already–" not one to deny what you already wanted you started to slide into them as let out a long satisfied moan as you stretch them out

-once you finally bottom out, excluding your knot, their hand feels their stomach, delighting in the small bulge

-it's hard to hold back the urge to just start rutting into them when they look at you with that flushed blessed out face, their pretty mark on their neck showing how they're yours "You can- start moving–"

-you slowly move, their walls hugging your cock just right, pressing them down in a mating press, their legs pushed back "Unghh yesss–"

-"C'mon harder– please—" You starting thrusting faster in a rhythm, the slap of your body against them and their moans filling the room

-soon you're fucking into them like a dog, a desperateness to your thrusts, chasing the pleasure as they hold on tightly to you, nails digging into your back and moaning with no end

-They've already came several times by the time you do, and they can barely speak as they've been reduced into a blabbering moaning mess.

-"Inside, inside– put your knot inside—" they say desperately, hips pressing into you, arms holding on tight before you slide it in and your cum fills them up.

-they groan in satisfaction, having a dry orgasm from it, already milked dry

-as your knot settles in them you mark them more, covering their neck in hickeys and licking at your mark more

-Mate your wolf tells you, but before they were just a friend, what did this mean for your relationship?

-Mine. Marked. Claimed.

-But you already knew didn't you? You'd known it long ago how much they'd wanted you

-"Mate," you say aloud.

-they smile, "Mate," they agree and you kiss them again.