#BITING MY CAGE YO

[emmyrosee]

ABSJSNDSKDKSNDNDDJDJDBDIS I HAVE AN IDEA I WANNA SHARE WITH YOU SO BAD CAUSE I JUST KNOW YOU’D GO INSANE OVER IT WITH ME 👀

I was literally out shopping today and I was extremely lightheaded cause I needed water and this idea did NOT help with that as I was passing the men’s clothing section 🤨

but omg purposefully buying Osamu shirts every so often that are just slightly too small for him. namely compression shirts and t-shirts. I just really like his arms okay 😐? And he fully knows you’re doing it on purpose so you can admire him and he DOES NOT MIND ONE BIT. I fully believe his arms would be defined in a bulky SWEATER do u know how hard that is to do? he obviously doesn’t.

I love him ☹️

anon <3

DAWG THE WAY HE MAKES ME FROTH AT THE CHOMPERS AND BITES THE BARS IN MY CAGE-

just him coming home once upon a time to just merely pout about how the shirt he got is somehow too small for him, and you simply shrug and tell him to model it anyways because hey, he's too pretty to pout okay?

so he stalks into the bedroom, leaving you in the living room to wait for your man to show you where he wants to modify the fabric.

and then. OH AND THEN.

he comes around the hallway, cheeks a little warm from the effort of pulling the shirt over those massive shoulders and beefy arms and you know threads had to have been popped wildly just to get it over his head. AND DONT LOOK AT ME BUT I JUst find him super sinched at the waist, but a little soft near his tummy, which is even more shown from the tightness of the shirt.

"see?" he whines, pinching the shirt in his fingers. "it's too tight... i could never wear this out!"

meanwhile, you're not sure if you've ever been more attracted to him.

he just looks so big, so beefy and thick, you cant begin to try and pull your eyes off of him. he's so defined it hurts, and god you want to unhinge your jaw and bite that mammoth arm thats practically hulking from under the shirt.

"yeah shame you can only wear it here hey wow thats so funny you can only wear it here isnt that good though you always say how you need more lounge clothes-"

he quirks a brow, "are... you okay, babe? you’re talking really fast.”

You take a deep breath in and slowly let it out, flashing him the biggest set of flirt eyes you can muster, “you look really, really good, osamu.”

His brows raise. You nod.

“Like… really good?”

“Good enough where if you tried to return the shirt, I’d burn the receipt.”

“Okay, well don’t burn it,” he snickers, pulling you in for a hug. “We can just pretend like the shirt fits me perfectly and wear it.”

“You’re not wearing that outside.”

“Why?”

“Uh, because people will throw themselves at you? Duh?”

He offers you a laugh, clearly not taking into full account about how serious you are, but thats okay.

hopefully there wont come a day you have to show it.

[roturo]

ᯓ★DASH ╰⪼┆MMM!, I JUST WANNA CONTINUE MY PACE!

⤹ featuring: jjk men and motorcycles!, smut, pussy slapping, size kink, unprotected sex, possessive behavior, jealousy, marking, breeding, masturbation, overstimulation, edging, multiple orgasms- gojo satoru, geto suguru, nanami kento, megumi fushiguro, sukuna ryomen..

⤹ next up!: bad news! (feb 2024) ft. jjk men suffering from reader having a low sex drive, ow!

february event! -`♡´-

gojo satoru

Sounds of skin slapping filled the room, he swears he was so close to cum for the second time in the afternoon. You? Maybe like the fifth? Sixth? He doesn’t remember how many times he ate you out– preferring to “skip lunch and have dessert” instead. 

The sounds of motorcycles and talking were silenced thanks to your moans. Not like he needed to hear the other people throwing shit at him. Probably just jealous that he always wins this type of spontaneous street races. 

He felt that familiar tingly feeling shocking his body from his hips to his neck, feeling how you were squeezing his cock he could tell you were close too, rings from his phone tried to win the sounds of his groans and moans. Notifications coming out from what you could catch to see– Geto asking where he was, that they needed him right now just so they could start the race. People were complaining of favoritism and how they shouldn’t let Satoru compete anymore.

“Sa- ‘toru, the- the race.” Taking breaths while trying to tell Gojo you were out of time and should stop– but all you could pronounce were small ‘ah, ahs~’ while he pounded behind you. “They can wait baby, just cum f’me one last time, yeah?” 

It was like a ritual for him to fuck you everytime before a race. Taking it as his “luck key”, even though he didn’t need it to win, he just accustomed himself to destress before racing. Not that you complain.

“They- they already know who’s goin’ to win anyway- shit- you feel so good babe” A specific thrust threw you over the edge and made your vision blurry, losing yourself in the feeling while Satoru was reaching his high too while he continued pounding behind you. “atta’ girl– there we go… yeah, take it f’me”

geto suguru

Don’t ask me how, but this man would love to see you riding him while he’s on top of the motorcycle. 

Small tired jumps in search of release while you stabilize yourself with the handlebar while Geto’s thrusts sync with yours. Caging your small body on his while he also stabilized himself by moving his hands to the handlebar, feeling the motorcycle tremble and having to put one of his feet down to stop it from moving too much.

You were too lost in the pleasure you wouldn’t even notice the white of his hands because of how hard he was gripping the handlebar, one of them moving to grip your waist instead, helping you get even deeper in his cock. All he could see was the connection between the two of you, his back pressed to yours.

“Ahh Sshit baby- S’perfect f’me–” He had to bite your shoulder to not embarrass himself and moan louder than you. His hand on your waist moving towards your core while he starts giving small slaps on your clit. The small pain he was inflicting aroused you more– taking a mental note that you would most likely forget to buy a new leather saddle for him. The both of you would already reach your highs and he would stop thrusting, making you cockwarm him, but he wouldn’t stop slapping your pussy. Loving your body reaction while he chuckled everytime you trembled on top of him each time he gave a hard slap.

Your clit was hard and pulsing because of how much he slapped it, your arousal wetting Geto’s thighs when you came again just by slapping your pussy. Feeling his hard cock inside of you he wouldn’t move and preferred to continue playing with you.

nanami kento

It all started with an innocent act. You sitting on his bike while admiring it— delicately touching it, your doe eyes and small body compared to his did something inside him. 

You just looked so… pretty sitting on his bike. Your hips rolling trying to find a comfortable position in this big bike of his– remembering the same movement when he’s inside of you. Trying to pleasure yourself on his big cock making an appearance on your tummy– not letting you touch yourself or him, you just had to cum by your movements and his cock.

He loved it. Watching your body move and using him as a sex toy– but for you it was a punishment, not being able to touch him, or to feel him in the right way stressed you a lot– making it harder to cum.

He loses the mental battle on his head and now finds himself between your thighs while you balance yourself trying to grip whatever part of his bike.Your legs caging his head even deeper in your center, he never felt so… needy for something. Being so ‘patient and tolerant’ flew across the window the moment he saw you end his bike next to each other.

Maybe because it was the two things he most adored in the world? You first, his bike second. But it doesn’t matter what was the cause, but now he’s sure the effect will be him sitting on his bike while you ride him.

megumi fushiguro

You thought it was funny? You know how easily stressed Megumi becomes when a race is coming. He’s a perfectionist, and really ambitious. So he could never let himself lose, not when he has a reputation to sustain now.

He needs to feel enough. Even though you always tell him he’s more than enough and should treat his hobby as it is: a hobby– he should take it lightly and enjoy it rather than making it something that would hurt him in any kind of way.

But the moment he saw you giggling next to one of his ‘rivals’ he’s sure something inside his brain magically turned on and made him feel an anger that he couldn’t quite describe. He trusts you. But seeing you next to someone else rather than him really bothered him.

He doesn’t consider himself as a jealous boyfriend– but you were just so perfect for him that he was afraid of losing you in any kind of way. He wouldn't admit that kind of sadness and insecurity inside him to anyone, he prefers to disguise it as rage. That didn’t quit the fact that he’s jealous right now though.

He obviously won the race, the moment you went to hug him and congratulate him you knew something was wrong. The way his body reacted to yours wasn’t normal, tough and stiff, like he was almost forcing himself to hug you lovely when all he wanted it was to fuck you infront of everybody and show them you were his.

Maybe that’s an idea for another day.

But right now when the both of you got home, he told you not to get off his bike. You were confused- maybe he’s taking you somewhere else?

Wrong.

He brought himself a chair, placed it so he was facing the right side of it. All he did was say two words.

“ride it.”

He pointed at the bike with a movement of his chin, your face showed confusion, but he was applying the silent treatment. He never did it to you– so that’s how you knew to do what he says before making it worse.

So that’s how you find yourself naked on his bike, trying to do the best you can to cum for a second time while Megumi watches, sitting on the chair jerking off his cock–. the needy mushroom tip showing how close he was, his balls visible swollen because of how he was edging himself, making sure “to save as much cum to dump it inside of you and mark you as his”

Breed you like an animal the moment you wet his bike again, leaving marks that would last days, just so the other fuckers know to not get near anything that it’s his.

sukuna ryomen

He would ignore the bike tbh.

This man wouldn’t care where he is, the moment he saw you next to his bike he knew he had to fuck you– he knew you had to mark it with your arousal caused thanks to him and that’s how he would remember you even far away from you.

But let’s be real now, this man would fuck you the moment he feels blood near his cock, it doesn’t matter anything else than you and his cock. Just pounding inside you, breeding you, and training you while you ride him saying “it’s the same shit if you want to ride a bike”

Not that he'st wrong, but you wouldn’t have a dick touching your g-spot everytime and something overstimulating your clit. But basically the same– yeah…

[smutoperator]

Bring Seolhyun and her glorious body back to center stage!

Like a Pet

Kim Seolhyun x Male Reader

Tags: all fours, anal, animalesque, caged, cat mask, domination, dreams, facial, fishnets, full nelson, gape, her biggest fan, pet play, pussy fingering, rocking the bed, rough sex, throwback

Word Count: 3786

For the last decade, Seolhyun has been the protagonist of some of your dirtiest fantasies. You always dreamed of getting close to the wonderful AOA girl and her sexy body, but as of now, this was just a dream to you.

However, this was about to change, as you receive an irresistible offer from a genie during one of those dreams.

"Tell me what you wish," the genie said. "I want to have sex with my favorite idol, Kim Seolhyun of AOA," you answered. "Your wish will be granted," the genie said.

You quickly woke up from your dream, your cock already hard and ripping through your underwear in a larger than usual morning wood. You followed your regular routine, going towards the kitchen to prepare your breakfast. However, once you crossed your living room, there was something different in there.

A tall girl in a sexy outfit was there, trapped on a cage, licking her chops as she was wearing a mask and a sexy leather outfit. You were bemused at the scene, wondering how she had gotten lost in there, until you finally recognized her face.

"S-Seolhyun?" you said, still confused. "Meow," she said, affirmatively, staring at your already hard cock. It didn't take long for you to recognize she was wearing the outfit from the Like a Cat era, your favorite among all AOA comebacks. "I'm here to be your pet today, meow," she said. Damn, maybe that whole genie thing wasn't just a dream.

You admired Seolhyun's beautiful body, sticking your thumb through the cage for her to lick it. She never took her eyes off your bulging erection as you circled around the cage to look at her at every possible angle. She handled you the keys as you unlocked her from the cage but also handed you a collar to put on her, connecting it to a leash as she left the cage crawling on all fours.

As you walked her like a cat with the leash, Seolhyun stayed with her knees on the floor. As she bent over, you fulfilled one of your longtime fantasies and spanked her beautiful ass, making her instantly moan as you dove her face into her sexy thighs and sniffed her beautiful butt.

You picked up the whip on the top of the cage and started spanking her ass. "Ahhhh," Seolhyun softly moaned. Her ass was your playground as you spanked, licked it, and played with her pussy still under her panties. More whipping ensued as Seolhyun's moans grew sexier each time, and you fed your fingers into her mouth and touched her panties and sensed her already wet pussy.

You pulled Seolhyun's panties to the side and started massaging her pussy. Even in your wildest dreams, you couldn't predict how perfect it was as you tucked your thumb inside it to feel her warmth and wetness. Your touch and the fishnets touching her core drive Seolhyun over the moon as she softly moans with her head touching the floor.

You turn Seolhyun around using the leash attached to her neck. You can feel her horniness in her cat eyes, as her face is level with your still-clothed erection. Seolhyun sniffs it and softly bites your already throbbing shaft, in awe with the size of your cock, and she hasn't even seen it in full display already. She opens her mouth, trying to taste it, and licks it as she runs her hands over your thighs, driving you crazy with the way she teases you.

Seolhyun slowly pulls your underwear down and unveils your throbbing cock, taking it down her mouth and making you groan. If this is a dream, you don't want to ever wake up. She licks your shaft top to bottom and takes it deep in her throat. You no longer can resist and push her face against your cock, but she takes it like a champion.

"Ohhhh fuck," you say, amazed by Seolhyun's sexy deepthroating as she takes on your huge cock without using her hands. You desperately fuck her beautiful tanned face and slap your cock against her tongue, trying to enjoy her to the fullest. "Oh yes, that's it," you say as she spits all over your cock and shoves it down her throat.

You keep filling Seolhyun's face full of cock as she reacts and buries her head down your crotch. You reach into her beautiful ass as she keeps sucking the soul out of your cock until she finally gags, her tits popping out as you slap your shaft against her sexy face, fucking her face and fingering her cunt at the same time, showing who's the boss.

Finally, you pull her panties down and rip her fishnets apart, getting full access to her fuckholes. Seolhyun moans as you tongue her anus, but gets even louder every time you sweep her pussy. You just can't take it anymore, the juices flowing out of her core indicating she's begging to be fucked.

You insert your cock inside Seolhyun's warm hole as she lets out her loudest moan yet, getting on top of her and fucking her cunt balls deep from the start. She reaches out and fingers her wet pussy, feeling your balls slap against her nails each time you thrust deep inside her, letting out loud screams.

Seolhyun's pussy queefs with your pounding as she moans like a cat in heat. "FUCK, YOU'RE HITTING ME SO FUCKING HARD," she says. Even for a seasoned fuckdoll like Seolhyun, the object of many men's desires and poundings, your massive throbbing cock is too much for her to handle. And you're determined not to stop, seizing the unique opportunity to fuck the woman of your dreams, as Seolhyun can't stop moaning and her mouth is open so wide she can barely hang on to her cat mask.

You grab Seolhyun's hot body and fuck her like an animal. She fingers herself nonstop, and her juices make the flor incresingly slippery, her vaginal walls clenching around your fast thrusting cock each time you spank her ass or hit her cervix, so basically once every three seconds. You rip the remnants of her fishnets covering her butt, grabbing it with all your forces and destroying her pussy like she's nothing but your sex slave.

"Oh God, my fucking pussy is burning, Damn," Seolhyun screams as you completely get on top of her now. The intercourse gets more and more animalesque, resembling those scenes of a bull fucking a cow. "FUCK ME, FILL MY FUCKING PUSSY," Seolhyun demands as your cock ruin her into full submission to her master.

Seolhyun tries to fight but loses it handily; your cock is just too big and fucks her too hard, smashing your balls now against her perfect big ass. You love the way you own her glorious body, her barely able to stay on all fours as she gets utterly obliterated by that massive meat stretching her cunt out.

"DON'T STOP," Seolhyun demands, not like you ever intended to. Fucking one of Korea's most desired pussies is the perfect dream for you, and you'll keep doing it until you get tired of it; heck, even tired, you will still fuck it because it's the Kim Seolhyun, the myth, the legend herself.

You feed your cock for Seolhyun to taste, and she takes it like a good submissive pet. This time, it's much easier for you to fuck her face, with her still numb from the pounding you just delivered. You grab her by the leash on your hands and walk her into all rooms of your house, fucking her from behind in every single one of them, only letting her stand up to pin her against your stairs handrail, where, obviously, you fuck her again.

Seolhyun is completely tamed. That once powerful girl that gave many men heart attacks with her performances on stage is now just a pet for your pleasure. She can't even take her panties off without your permission now, as they keep hanging between her thighs while you keep pounding her.

"Stuff that cock in my fucking pussy; keep going, master," Seolhyun begs. You do it just as she wants, making her beautiful tits bounce at each thrust you give to her used-up cunt. "Yes, fuck, please," Seolhyun says, losing her breath as she can barely stay on her feet now.

But there was still one room left where you have yet to fuck the sexy bombshell that is Seolhyun. And it's not just any room; as you walk her upstairs into your bedroom, the place where your most wicked fantasies with her took place. But what used to be just your imagination was now real, and you couldn't wait to fuck Seolhyun in there.

You knew your bedroom sex with Seolhyun had to be special as you put her in her preferred position of all fours in your bed, warming up her cunt with your tongue as she closed her eyes and you ate her out. Her moans were just perfect; if AOA had ever released them on a song, it would have been their biggest hit.

More hard thrusts into her pussy follow; it turns out you just can't resist destroying your little pet. "Fuck my fucking pussy," she begs in a barely audible way, getting back to touch herself. "Fill my fucking cunt with that fucking cock," she keeps saying, and you do it just like that, making her ass cheeks jiggle, her tits bounce, and her cunt queef.

You dive into Seolhyun's gaped cunt, tasting her nectar. You still can't believe you're fucking such a goddess. You lie on your bed and make her climb on top of you, pushing your cock up into her cunt. "OH MY GOD, FUCK ME," she screams, as she may be the goddess you worshipped for all those years, but now you managed to turn her into just a fuckhole to be used for your pleasure.

"Come on, fuck my pussy, AHHHHHHHH." Seolhyun moans as her body tilts more and more into yours; you two have now turned into one as you suck her tits. Even the roughest and more animalesque ways of fucking can have lots of passion, and she can't deny you fuck her hard, but it feels really good, and it gets even better when you mix clapping her cheeks hard into sticking your fingers up her asshole.

"AHHHHHHH, AHHHHHHHH, AHHHHHHH, AHHHHHHHHHH," Seolhyun can't stop moaning and screaming. If she ever wondered who her number one fan was, now she's got the answer. It can't be anyone besides you, and each hard and deep thrust you give to her pussy only proves it further.

"Please master, give me all this fucking cock," Seolhyun begs as she starts riding you. She doesn't even need to ask, as you two duel to find out who's the horniest animal in that bed, the raging bull of yours or the slave pet that she is. Thank god you bought a strong one, because a regular bed would already have collapsed to the floor with the intensity you two are now having sex.

"That fucking cock is so good, I want to ride it until I have a heart attack," Seolhyun tells you, showing her eagerness to become your personal cocksleeve. And damn, that slut knows how to ride, making you wonder how many cocks she sat on during her meteoric rise into stardom and becoming one of the top it girls in Korea.

But today is a different day. It's the one you have been waiting for nearly a decade, to have fun with Seolhyun's marvelous body and to destroy her fuckholes nonstop as you regain control and keep pounding her. "OH MY GODDDDDD, GODDDDD DAMN IT," Seolhyun screams out of breath as you give her cunt no rest. Her cat mask completely falls off, and as you spank her ass like crazy, she's no longer meowing like a cat, but barking like a puppy and howling like a wolf.

Seolhyun switches sides as you now pound her pussy in reverse cowgirl and reach out to finger it. "Fucking feed me all that fucking cock," she says in a whispering voice, her legs shaking as you attack her pussy in two fronts. All she can do now is moan and scream, closing her eyes as she lets your cock own her and turn her into your pet. "AHHHHH SHIT, FUCK MEEEEEE," she screams. And sure, that's exactly what you do—fuck her deep in her fucking pussy. Damn, that's a lot of cursing, but it matches what Seolhyun is doing with your cock stuck deep inside her.

Seolhyun fingers herself as she begs for more and more cock. "TAKE THAT FUCKING PUSSY, TAKE THAT FUCKING PUSSY, TAKE THAT FUCKING PUSSY," she screams as she explodes into a massive orgasm. "Please master, let me taste my cum," she begs, barely able to think straight with her two brain cells still functional after your cock absolutely manhandled her. She has no dignity left, only a desire for more and more of your cock. Sex with her number one fan couldn't have gone much better.

Seolhyun deepthroats your cock as she tastes her juices. "Oh sh*t, oh fuck, yes, baby, oh my god," you please, as she bobs her head on your meat sloppily, licking your whole shaft, paying special attention to the tip. "I taste so good on your cock, master," she says. "Well, I bet your other hole will taste even better," you reply.

After pounding Seolhyun's pussy to oblivion, you want a new challenge: sticking your cock inside her tight asshole. Seolhyun struggles from the moment you insert your tip in her butthole, already completely broken from the wreakage you handed to her cunt. Slowly but surely, you get all your 10 inches inside her tight anus as she just closes her eyes and braces herself for the second round of being your personal pet. You play with her pussy and even cuddle her a little, putting Seolhyun into a spooning position and showing you may be destroying her, but you can still be kind to your fucktoy.

You start very slowly into Seolhyun's ass, but she's already screaming. That ass has seen a far share of poundings and cocks stuffed inside it, but it's been a while since Seolhyun has done any kind of anal sex, having to relearn on the fly with your cock making its way inside her anal cavity. But after a little pain, she manages to adjust and unleash the anal slut that had been locked in her for the past couple years, as you help her by fingering her pussy before each of you starts handling separating tasks, with Seolhyun taking the pussy playing all by herself and allowing you to aim your full attention into fucking her ass.

You fuck Seolhyun's ass at a steady pace as she softly moans at each thurst, never leaving her filthy hands off her gushing wet pussy. "Holy shit," she says as her tits jiggle and she rediscovers the joys of anal sex after a long time. You whisper dirty words into her ear. "Filthy whore, I own you; your naughty holes belong to my cock," you say.

"FUCKKKKK," Seolhyun explodes and rests her hand on the pillow as your cock keeps attacking her ass. "Give me that cock, fill me up, destroy my ass," she demands, putting extra heat in her pussy as you bury your cock balls deep in her ass.

Seolhyun is almost losing her voice at this point, only being able to howl and whisper as your cock provides her butthole with the same destruction that it imposed on her pussy. "AHHHHHHHHH," she uses all her strength to scream, but you quickly shut her mouth. "Be quiet, my pet; just take your master's big cock and enjoy it," you say to her.

You choke Seolhyun as your cock keeps digging her anal cavity with your manhood. She closes her eyes and just lets you take over her whole body. "Fuck, I love how your fucking cock fucks my fucking ass so fucking good," she whispers to you, dropping f-bombs at the same speed you fuck her ass.

Seolhyun's whole body trembles as you dig your fingers deep in her cunt. Watching that wonderful goddess quivering and cumming thanks to you drives you insane—truly better than any dream of her you had previously. You just stop thrusting for a few minutes, burying your cock all the way inside her asshole, and let Seolhyun ride into an orgasm, your hands resting on her wet pussy as she screams, "GOD DAMN IT!!!!!!".

Seolhyun sits on top of your cock as you resume pumping into her asshole, taking slow thursts into it. "Oh fuck, you fucking cock is so fucking fat, it stretches my ass so fucking bad," she says. Seolhyun lies on top of you and fingers her cunt as you place her under a full nelson. "OHHHHH, GODDD DAMN IT, FUCKKKK," she says as you go back to pound her ass hard and fast, turning her sexy body into her playground as she tries to handle the heat of your cock. "FUCK ME, AHHHHHH," she screams, her nipples more erect than ever.

"FUCKING TAKE MY ASS, FUCKING RUIN MY ASS," Seolhyun begs as you destroy it. She has no control of her body, becoming just a passenger of countless hits from your cock deep in her butthole. "Use my fucking asshole, OH MY GOD," she says, screaming in the middle of the sentence, as she covers the entrance of her stretched cunt, her entire lower body now being made of holes that you have drilled into oblivion and are now competing with each other to see which one has been gaped the hardest.

"Fuck, I love it. Fuck,  I love your cock stuffed in my fucking ass and your fingers stuffed in my fucking pussy," an out-of-breath Seolhyun says. You ignore her and just keep pounding that slut, slapping and grolling her tits too, as she can't stop moaning. "Fuck yes, yes, yes, yes," Seolhyun screams. You love how her long legs are completely up in the air at the full mercy of your cock, a reversal so many years where they were milking your cock dry with her sexy moves, and the same can be said about her sexy ass you are now pounding.

You fuck Seolhyun's butt so hard that even you need a break; stop thrusting into her asshole and focusing on fingering her cunt. "OHHHHH DAMNNN," she screams. You use her weakness and her favor and put her sexy body sideways without pulling your cock out of her ass. You close her legs and pound her ass as she looks at you completely at the mercy of your cock, but still reaching to stimulate her needy wet cunt.

"Take it, take it, use my fucking ass, master, yes, please, please," she says as your balls clap against her asscheeks and her tits bounce a lot. Seolhyun can't even think straight now as you knock the shit out of her. "Take my ass; keep going, master," she says, the words struggling to come out of her mouth.

The bed shakes with the hard poundings you give Seolhyun; that morning fuck session will be heard by all your neighbors. But you don't care. All you want is to pound that goddess and her sexy ass, the one you fell in love with back when she shaked it under her miniskirt.

Seolhyun can barely walk at this point, but as long as she can stay on all fours, it's enough. You are going to finish just like you started, fucking her in a dominant doggystyle position that shows her who's the boss, but this time anally. "Stretch that fucking asshole," she demands. 15 minutes of anal sex with your 10-inch fat pole are definitely better than 15 hours of anal with all those small-cock execs Seolhyun had to fuck to make her way to the top. This is how anal sex is supposed to be, and Seolhyun, in nearly 30 years of her life, has never enjoyed an ass-fucking as good as the one you're giving her today.

You and Seolhyun work in perfect sync, pleasing her needy holes. Her hands in her pussy, your monster cock in her asshole, making her scream louder than her groupmate ChoA hitting a high note. You pull out and look at the massive gape your cock has built on her asshole, spitting on it as her anus engulfs your saliva with ease. That gape is so huge it's impossible to miss the target.

You assert your dominance over Seolhyun, stomping on her head as you mount on top of her and sodomize her. She begs for God, but her prayers go answered. Her ass is extremely sore now. "Keep destroying her asshole," she says, wondering how her best friend Momo can handle one hour of restless anal fucking, but she's almost collapsing after 15 minutes.

Seolhyun's ass has been gaped so hard you can efortlessly fit your balls in there without even forcing much, stretching it to the maximum. All she can do now is moan, bark, and scream as you slowly prepare for your climax. But you really don't know where to cum in that goddess; after all, all her body deserves it.

Lucky for you, Seolhyun makes her decision first. "I want you to cum in my fucking face, so I can make a mess with your fucking dirty cum," she says. After a few more thrusts in Seolhyun's gaped asshole, adding some spits to it, you finally unload your jizz in her face as if you were performing one of the countless cum tributes you have given to Seolhyun over the course of a decade, paiting streaks in it that approximately resemble a cat's mustache. Like a good pet, Seolhyun swallows the cum of her master fully and thanks you by licking the tip of your cock.

You're completely drained and late for work as well, having to rush and leave Seolhyun alone toying with your cum. When you get back home, she's gone; maybe it was just another one of your endless perverted dreams. You are tired and sleep for long hours, with cat noises waking you up the next morning.

"Meow, meow,"

"Where are those noises coming from?" you ask before finding out a woman in a sexy blue top and yellow skirt, her hot tummy in full display.

"Can Master teach me how to play lacrosse today?"  she asks.

Maybe it wasn't really a dream. Or maybe it's an endless dream.

[pseudowho]

Ditch the Party

Nanami Kento hates parties; but the drinks? They make him...bold.

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Nanami Kento is a horny drunk, just regular old smut here

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"Just...promise me you'll behave tonight," you beseeched Kento as you pressed your earrings into place. You saw Kento lean back into the bathroom on his way out, bristling, indignant. Your nose twitched in amusement as he caught your eye in the mirror, looking stern.

"I don't know what you mean," he replied stiffly. You scoffed.

"You absolutely do," you countered, turning, your hand on his chest. Looking him up and down, in a slim black suit and burgundy shirt, tie-less, you felt outdone.

As you leaned back on the bathroom counter, Kento's eyes had a naughty twinkle as he leaned down towards you. Your eyes narrowed with a smile of warning, and you pressed one finger to his lips. Tapping his nose as he opened his mouth to bite your finger, you reminded him.

"Come on, big guy. We'll be late. The taxi guy's probably sick of waiting for us." You slithered past Kento, feeling his fingers brush your waist for the barest of moments, as you gripped his hand and pulled him towards the door.

In the taxi, Kento gazed at the city lights, considering his life choices; "Why are we going to a party this evening? We don't even like parties." You laughed, reapplying your lipstick in a mirror.

"We don't, it's true. But it's a big birthday for my uncle, and we promised," you wheedled. Kento grunted his disapproval beside you. Your eyes narrowed at him again; "And, it's a family friendly event, so..."

Kento looked at you again, innocent but challenging. He let your statement hang; this time, it was you who was bristling, indignant.

The party had already begun by the time you arrived; held at your aunt and uncle's home, a warm orange glow and thrum of conversation spilled out from the kitchen to the garden, deep green hedges flickering with torchlights and tiny twinkling fairy lights. The music was low, the conversation easy and audible above it. A barbeque puffed out woody smoke. Drinks were flowing freely. You sighed as you approached, relieved.

"See? It's the good kind of party," you pressed, squeezing Kento's hand reassuringly. He sighed, unable to argue with you, reassuring you with a gentle smile that you didn't need to babysit him all evening for fear of him having a dreadful time in the company of others.

While Kento headed in to fetch drinks, you greeted family and friends. Kento returned soon after, with a large gin and tonic for you, and a larger whiskey for him. He slipped an arm firmly round your waist, pulling you flush to him as he planted a kiss to your forehead.

The night wore on, the conversation lubricated by alcohol, and small, tipsy groups milled around the garden fires. As food was served, an elderly aunt approached, and asked Kento how he was enjoying the meal.

"It's delicious, thank you," he replied low and smooth before leaning into your ear, whispering, "it almost tastes as good as yo--"

"I'm sorry, dear?" Kento leaned up, all smiles to your elderly aunt, as you blushed from your ears to your toes.

"I said, it tastes almost as good as your cooking, auntie," he lied and she chirped, flattered, patting him on the arm with a smile. Your auntie headed away, and you spun to Kento with a look of warning. He completely ignored you, honeyed eyes glowing in the firelight.

Eyes narrowing at him, you headed over to the table to fetch Kento a glass of water, and almost immediately felt him cage you against the table from behind, his sculpted shoulders leaning past you to rest on his knuckles on the tablecloth. You felt his warm, whiskey breath against your neck.

"We could always bend you over this table," he murmured, as you felt a throb of lust in your belly, "and see how hard we could make it shake." As you spun, still caged by Kento's arms, a family friend approached just beside you and offered you and Kento an uncertain smile. Kento plucked your hair clip off the table from behind you, holding it up with a cunning smile.

"There it is, darling," he said warmly, the family friend now less uncertain, "I told you we'd find it." The family friend left, and you hissed up at him.

"Kento. Behave." He fixed you with a look of faux-innocence as he stood, finishing his whiskey.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he said, smiling at your uncle, wishing him a happy birthday as he passed, and then leaned over you again, pulling you close to his chest as he rumbled, eyes hooded and glinting, "but then, you never do make much sense when I'm fucking you until you can't see straight."

You groaned against his chest, hand over your eyes, mortified. You heard your aunt gently asking Kento if you were alright.

"She's fine," he chuckled, "can't handle her drinks, I think." Your aunt cooed, sharing a joke with Kento, and you gaped up at Kento, who accepted another drink from your uncle, utterly shameless.

"Kento," you hissed again, "you are just a--"

"Menace?" He rumbled, ghosting his lips over yours, whispering, "I could be. Just give me a bit of time, and something to tie you up with, and--"

Your mother came over, greeting you both, and you were forced to play drunk, you were so flushed at this point, babysat by Kento as he rolled his eyes fondly at you and made small talk.

Kento slipped his hand lower and lower behind you as he talked with your mother, and you felt his long fingers trace your thigh, surreptitiously climbing upwards beneath your skirt to graze your arse, before creeping round again and you felt his fingers brush softly against your fol--

You squeaked, jumping, your drink sloshing over your toes. Kento flapped a hand above your head.

"Just a moth," he reassured you and your mother. Your mother gave your burning cheek a kiss. Kento waited just long enough for your mother to leave, before looping an arm round your waist, pulling you into the shadows, behind hedges further down the garden. You squeaked with alarm. Kento drained both of your drinks, and unceremoniously abandoned the glasses in a bush, before pulling you onto a sheltered bench by your uncle's koi carp pond.

You were thrumming with embarrassment at this point, and leapt off the bench, mortified by Kento's utter shamelessness and alcohol-loosened tongue, ready to chew him out...but...

Kento sat on the bench, legs spread wide in his tight black trousers, thick, toned arms stretched out across the back of the bench. He looked deeply into your eyes, chiselled face dramatised in the shadows. Slowly reaching a hand out, he pinched the top of your skirt, pulling you in between his spread legs, strong and determined.

"We don't like parties," he toned, low and sultry, as you were pulled into his lap, "but we do like it when you ride me until our clothes are ruined."

Kento grabbed your thighs, forcing your skirt up to your waist and parting your legs around his lap. He hesitated, changing his mind and lifting you off him briefly. With no argument, he stripped off your underwear, pressing it to his nose and breathing in with a groan and a shiver, eyes closed in ecstasy. You hissed to him again, terrified of being found, arse and pussy open to the world--

Kento pulled you back down to straddle his lap again, sinking his hand into the back of your hair and tipping your head back as he ran his tongue and teeth against your throat.

"Nobody else will be able to see that wet little pussy of yours...if it's as close as I want it." Slipping two fingers between your legs, Kento rubbed your clit in tight little circles, and you felt hard and fast pangs of pleasure through you as you trembled, gripping Kento's shoulders desperately.

"Someone will hear, Kento--" he bit your neck in warning, squeezing your arse hard as he moaned, shivering as he continued to press hard against your clit.

"Well then be quiet, my love." You mewled, muffling your face into his neck, quaking as his clever fingers dragged you to orgasm, stimulating you hard and fast until your thighs shook, and his hand was wet with your arousal.

Kento's eyes were dark and determined now, single-minded as he unzipped his trousers and pulled out his cock, solid and weeping pre-cum against his belly as he stroked it, lubricating himself with your cum. Locking his arms behind your back, he lifted you and slammed your sensitive pussy down onto himself, bottoming out immediately.

You shrieked, and Kento clapped a hand over your mouth, nipping your lips as he shot you a lustful, playful look. Hands then locked behind your hips again, he lifted you up and down with wet slaps, immediately seeing stars with the relentless pace, chasing your pussy with his hips as he bucked.

You gasped, breathless against his neck as his cock bullied into you, pliable and shaking as Kento groaned into you, unashamedly loud-- "harder," he insisted, increasing the pace with his hands clenching the fat of your hips, "harder."

His mouth pressed to yours, kisses hot and smoky with whiskey as he nipped at your bottom lip, his groans deep and guttural as he felt your pussy clench around him while you held onto his lapels, mewling, tipsy, completely fucked senseless, as promised.

Feeling the trembling of your plush walls around him (the nerves of his cock already electrified by the alcohol) had Kento reeling  and he came, whimpering into your mouth as he ground your hips against his, bottomed out and warm shots of cum spurting directly against your cervix.

You both shook, tangled and sweaty, spent, while Kento chuckled and you slapped him on the chest. You heard voices approach; your uncle, excited to show someone his prized koi carp.

Kento threw you onto the bench beside him as you yanked down your skirt, and Kento zipped himself up, putting an arm around your shoulders.

Your uncle arrived, "Oh, hey kids! Enjoying my carp-- whose are those?"

Kento coughed delicately, eyeing your forgotten underwear at the side of the pond; "No idea," he said, coolly, "they were here when we arrived."

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Infiltration, Chapter 5: Breaking Point, IS coming this weekend as promised...but in the meantime

[beomiracles]

Kai thigh fucking..

I think I’m gonna jump off a bridge with a bomb strapped to my back

⌞ 𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 ⌝

DREAM RECALL When waking up in the middle of the night, your horny boyfriend can't think of anything more enticing than your soft thighs.

wc -> 1k

PAIRINGS hueningkai x fem!reader WARNINGS somnophilia, dubious consent that turns into consent, pervy/horny kai, thigh fucking !

#serene adds ✎.. DON'T PLAY WITH ME I'LL GET MESSY. anyway, if you've got an extra bomb...lend me it :3 we can jump the two of us, like those angsty movies where the main characters commit together !

this isn't proofread ..

Kai liked watching you sleep. Not in a sick and perverted way of course, more in a loving-like manner. He takes in your slumbering form, lips slightly parted as you take slow and steady breaths. Your hair sticks to your forehead, shielding half of your face from him, he brushes it back gently, tucking some behind your ear. 

His eyes travel down the rest of your body, and perhaps he lingered a little too long by your chest. Biting the inside of his cheek as his gaze gets stuck on the way your perked nipples poke through the thin material of the tank top you’d thrown on a couple of hours earlier. — It wasn’t in a perverted way of course, he simply thought his girlfriend was pretty. 

Gentle fingers trace your side, stopping by your waist as his index and middle finger gently drum against your skin. He gulps as his eyes flicker down to your bare legs, plush thighs squeezed together, the same thighs that would close around his head whenever he ate you out, the thighs he pushed against your chest as he pounded into you, or the thighs that would cage him in whenever you sat on his face. They were so perfect for him to grab, to rest his head on, to litter in kisses, to fuck. 

Okay so maybe he was a little perverted. But it wasn’t Kai’s fault that his love for you made him so incredibly hard. — With a small grunt he shifts on the bed, screwing his eyes shut as he tries to sleep the desire off. He thinks he might succeed, but then you yawn, letting out a soft whine as you squirm on the mattress. And Kai is wide awake again, eyes shooting open as they immediately seize your thighs, the way the soft flesh rubbed together as you got comfortable in your sleep. 

“Fucking hell”, he mutters, reaching a tentative hand down his sweats as he palms his stiff cock through his briefs. It’s okay, he tells himself, he’ll just have to be a little quiet, no harm done right? With that gameplan in mind, Kai ventures beneath his boxers to grab ahold of his weeping dick, muffling a groan as he bites onto his free hand. 

He watches you, the way your chest moves as you inhale and exhale, the way your nose scrunches occasionally. And even though he tries to not give in, his eyes unwillingly drift back to your thighs, feeling his jaw go slack as he imagines the way they would feel around him. — No, he won’t. But it’s almost torture, to have you in front of him like this, your body so pliantly waiting to be used. 

His desperate whine echoes out onto the pillow as he buries his face against it, determined to not catch another glimpse of you. — Kai, of course, fails, and it’s not long before he lifts his head from the comforter in need of fresh air, gaze almost immediately falling on your exposed legs. “Fuck me”, he curses, feeling his last of bit of self restraint evaporate as he pulls himself from his sweats, shifting in order to get closer to your sleeping figure. 

“M’sorry”, he whispers as his large hands caress your soft thighs, hooking his fingers under your knee as he lifts one of your legs. Kai almost whimpers as he slides his hard cock between your plush thighs, his already wet shaft making it easy for him to squeeze between the plump flesh. His head falls to your shoulder, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he fights to stay somewhat composed. 

His hips jerk forward, cock easily slipping in and out of your shut legs as he coats you in his arousal. The guilt and the shame slowly subsides as he becomes overridden by pleasure, hand grasping at your hip as he keeps you in place. — You mumble something under your breath, the sound coming out as a small moan and Kai twitches between your thighs. 

And he’s so drunk on the way you feel, the way your body unknowingly invites him in, urges him on even further, that he completely misses the way you stir against him, only able to feel the way you shift against his aching cock. — He thinks he might come any second now, his high within an arm's reach as he ruts into your thighs. 

“K-Kai..?”

Your voice is laced with sleep, but it’s still loud enough for him to hear and he thinks he might actually just die on the spot. Immediately stilling, Kai lets out a small whine-like sound as he sought  to come up with any kind of explanation. Ridden with shame, he buries his face deeper in the crook of your neck. This was it, this was when you would break up with him, tell him that he’s a sick weirdo and that you wanted nothing more to do with him. 

But you don’t. Instead you reach a tired hand behind your back, fingers quickly finding the tip of his cock, protruding through your shut legs and Kai groans against your skin. “You close?” You wonder in a groggy tone and he nods, breathing out a small “yes”, barely loud enough for you to catch. You hum, fingers teasing his slit and Kai’s hips desperately jerk forward as he slips further in between your thighs. 

Your free hand is in his hair, gently tugging at the longer locks and he swears he saw a shooting star. — And when he does finally finish between your legs, his teeth graze the skin of your neck as he cries out. Continuing to fuck himself dumb against you as pathetic “thank you’s” and “sorry’s” leave his blabbering lips. It’s not until the high has fully subsided that reality slowly seems to set in for him and he pulls back with a sheepish look on his flushed face. 

He finds you already looking at him with a sleep dazed expression as you slowly blink. “You woke me up.” You calmly state and Kai opens his mouth to apologize once more but you cut him off. “Make up for it, will you?” — Not having to be told twice, he immediately slides down between your legs as he tugs your panties off.

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[sunboki]

the phrase “kissing honey from your lips” makes me dizzy, here’s a channie from my drafts :)

adoring really slow mornings, maybe even dreary mornings with chan.

it’s simple. from the moment you wake up, snuggled up in his warmth against the cold air conditioner, things are so, quiet.

but all the same, they aren’t. his easy breathing, inhales and exhales in repetitive rhythm as he sleeps, the soft rustle of sheets crinkling under his weight when he rolls over, gathering you into his arms the moment you begin scooting away.

no, stay longer he wordlessly beckons, a nearly whispered incantation paired with endless all-nighters compiled into this very morning.

you oblige.

and so, when he finally (and groggily) gets up with you, expect your breakfast to be equally as sleepy.

clumsy footsteps into the kitchen with the groan of the coffee machine echoing itself around a dim-lit atmosphere, wrapping yourself around his back while he heats up the pan.

although this moment is fleeting, you want to take it in to its fullest. starting with his scent, clinging to his shirt—scent of the body wash he uses.

then his touch, whether that’s his hands molding perfectly with the dip of your hips, reaching up for your stomach. resting there, content with the contact.

his lips are your some of your favorite. biting into a particularly oozing biscuit where he kisses the honey from your lips, the chaste pecks on your neck from behind, or gradual, sloppy ones trailing down your jaw while you measure ingredients for muffin mix.

“g’morning,” he’d mutter, earning a half smile from your equally exhausted self who leans back in his embrace, either arm caging you against the counter.

turning around to face him, you smooth away flying curls spiking up in wild directions, marveling at what a man you scored as you admire that half-awake blink of his, likely to forget all of this after he goes back to bed.

you don’t mind, even memories aren’t as bittersweet if chan’s involved.

“good morning to you too,” the words come out even quieter than you anticipated, and his eyes open up a little more hearing your voice.

sparing a few moments of comfortable silence, his expression grows taut, concern evident in the soft lines of his face.

“what’s wrong?”

you smile.

“nothin’, just looking at you.”

despite his expression breaching the surface of surprise, you know better than to think him indifferent, biting back a comment on the sudden pink shade his ears were diminished to.

chan looks away from your gaze, head hanging while you suppress your urge to run your hands through his hair.

“well don’t look too hard or you might find something you don’t like.”

it’s your turn for your face to grow taut, brows furrowing irritably. lifting his face, you take your sweet time kissing his eyelids, his nose, his cheeks, then his lips until his eyes have dilated tenfold and lips remain parted, staring at you as if you painted the stars in the sky.

“what is there not to like?” you whisper, a ghost of grin tugging at the corners of your mouth.

a lot, you can hear his mind ricochet, convince itself into self-deprecation like it always does. how unfortunate such a light to this world suffers so greatly.

just like how the prettiest flowers are picked first in the garden.

“and when i say that, i mean every word of it. i’ve never been so sure of something in my life, never been so sure of someone in my life. okay baby?”

wordlessly, he stays staring, unable to remove his gaze from you for even a second.

and nothing could prepare you for his next utterance, expertly reaching to turn off the stove and wetting his lips beforehand.

“i want to marry you.”

perhaps he’s simply too exhausted to register his thoughts being spoken aloud. nonetheless, the heart pounding in your chest serves as plenty indication of how genuine this is.

“that’s—“

effectively interrupting him with a fervent kiss, he settles his grip on your waist, gently pulling you closer to his warm frame, smiling avidly against your lips prior to momentarily separating.

“that’s something i’ve never been so sure of in my entire life.”

sunboki, may 2022 ©

[padawansuggest]

13 yo Obi-Wan: You guys are keeping me captive 🥺

Jaster: Ob’ika, we are bringing you back to the temple to reunite with your people.

Obi-Wan: 🥺 then why am I in a cage?

Jaster: *looks pointedly at Jango covered in bite marks, bandages and a torn kute*

Jango: Jas’Buir, he’s really cute, the bites didn’t even hurt 🥺

Obi-Wan: Yeah, I’m just making friends 🥺

Jaster: *soul deep sigh* I am not letting you out of the cell so you can maul my ad again.

Jango: Buuuir, he’s just an ad’ika, lookit his ik’aad fangs, he won’t actually hurt me!

Jaster: You we’re begging me to get his fangs out of your wrist five minutes ago.

Jango: He’s just teething!!

Jaster: Jan’ika, I know you want to keep him, but he’s not even house broken yet.

Jango: Neither was I when you adopted me!! He’s chosen me! Lemme keep him!

Obi-Wan: 🥺 I will be a good boy if you stick your fingers in my enclosure 🥺

Jaster: *physically holding Jango back* No. We will revisit this when the baar’ur has given him a Xanax omfg- *dragging Jango out of the ship hold*

[iliketangerines]

So I watched this anime about these two guys and one of them like got powers to where if he touches someone he can hear what the person is thinking- so hear my out- like reader wakes up with the powers and discovers she has them when she’s training with someone ((any one of the mk boys you wanna do- maybe Kung Lao- or Syzoth- perhaps Reiko or Tomas)) and they end up tripping her and pinning her to the floor and since they’re touching she hears their thought- which is basically them being like “oh how I wish to have something more with you” or “i wish you knew how bad I wanted to fuck you” and she just gets a really flustered about it- maybe after that she just goes around and coincidentally bumps into another guy and the same thing happens ((this is kinda multi fic- like mk men x reader))

your thoughts and mine

a/n: i want ALL OF THEM

pairing: kung lao, kenshi takahashi, johnny cage, raiden x afab!reader

warnings: nsfw (MDNI), creampies, overstimulation, blowjobs, spanking, mating press, electrostimulation

you’ve always been able to read mind from an early age, finding out when you had touched your mother one day and read her thoughts

but you keep your powers secret and hidden, wearing a pair of gloves and keeping your body covered up, even on hot sunny days, to avoid touching anybody

it became worse when you had joined the Wu Shi Academy, having to constantly spar and be in-touch with people, but it was manageable

you kept your gloves on and your clothe modest, and none of them really seemed to care as all the uniforms were quite similar to what you wore

today, the sweltering heat was getting to you, making it hard to concentrate on how Kung Lao was in front of you, smirking and beckoning you to come fight him

you shake the sweat droplets from your forehead and lunge forward, landing the first strike on him

it’s a dance of fists and blurs as you two move across the training field but combined with the heat of the sun and the stickiness of your clothes to your own skin, he manages to beat you, grabbing onto your wrists where your sleeves had ridden up your arms

he pins you down, gripping you tightly and keeping them above you, and his thoughts flash in your mind, thoughts of you naked and squirming on bed

how he would pin you down and watch your every expression as he slowly thrusts into you while his other hand rubs slow circles into your clit

your chest is covered in bite marks and hickeys, and your expression is flushed and dazed as he coos at you, how pretty you look on his cock

Kung Lao lets go of you, and the images disappear, your head spinning from what you had just seen

he asks if you’re okay, that you looked a bit flush, that maybe you should take off the shirt because you’re definitely going to get a heat stroke

you wave him off and just say you need some water before standing up and walking away briskly, trying to ignore the ache between your legs

the dining halls are mostly empty as you enter, and you beeline to the water fountain, grabbing a cup and filling it with water and gulping it down

you strip off your gloves, hands too sweaty, and wipe them down on your shirt, trying to calm yourself down and regain control over your own body

the thoughts still plague your mind, how his cock had thrusted in and out of you, making a loud squelching sound every time he rocked his hips forward and how your back arched off the bed

you wave away the thoughts and turn around at the sound of footsteps echoing behind you, and Kenshi stands behind you, arms crossed with that permanent furrow in his brow

he greets you, and you step aside and give him access to the water

as Kenshi walks by you, you hand him your cup, saying it’ll save washing more than one cup, and he thanks you and takes the cup, fingertips just brushing together

another image flashes through your mind, how his tattooed hand grips onto your hair as your lips stretch around his girth

your eyes are filled with tears and make-up stains your cheeks as Kenshi guides your head up and down his cock

he has your hands tied behind you and your legs kicked apart, so all you can do is grind against his shoe as he fucks into your face

the thought disappears as soon as it comes, and yet Kenshi seems completely unaffected as he grabs a drink from the fountain and takes a sip

quickly, you bow to him and leave the kitchen to go back to your bedroom, trying not to seem too obvious with how your pussy drools at the thoughts

the ache now persisted between your legs, and you needed to get rid of the need, the frustration, the wetness

as you walk back through the halls, Johnny passes by you, and in your frustration, you trip over nothing and nearly face plant if it weren’t for Johnny grabbing onto your hand

he thinks of you, face buried into the pillows and ass high in the air as he fucks into you ruthlessly

your ass is red and sore, and he squeezes at the meat of them, groaning at the sight of the plushness spilling between his fingers before giving you a firm slap

he presses a hand into your back to make you arch deeper for him, and it makes you cry out into the pillows as you tell that it’s too much

Johnny just smiles at you and reaches a hand down to rub at your sensitive clit and asks you for just one more, to just cum for him one more time

his cock stretches you out deliciously as he pounds into you, the sound of wet slapping filling the air along with your pathetic sobs and his grunts

the sound of Johnny’s voice brings you out of your stupor as he asks if you’re okay, and that maybe you should go to the infirmary, that you look sick

you try to pass it off, but your voice comes out hoarse and a little needy, Johnny sterns his face and grabs you by your arm, dragging you to the infirmary while giving a mild lecture about the importance of taking care of one’s self

somehow, the infirmary is much closer than you had thought, and Johnny and you arrive in no time

he flings the door open, and Raiden is already there, eyebrows raised in surprise at the dramatic entrance

Johnny smiles at the sight of the other champion and pushes you toward him, saying that Raiden is the best medicine guy they have and that he’ll take good care of you

he then promptly disappears, presumably off to bother Kenshi, and Raiden takes one look at your red face and brings the back of his hand to your forehead

you’re not even surprised anymore when images of your flushed face enter your head

he imagines you on the bed, neck covered in his hickeys as he fucks into you slowly and sweetly

your legs are hooked over his shoulders, pressing you into a mating press, but his hips are slow and sloppy as he thrusts in and out of you

his words are sweet and honeyed as he gives you praises as easily as water, telling you how pretty and beautiful you look like this, all fucked-out and flush

he brings his head down and kisses you, pelvis grinding into your clit to make you cum, and his body crackles with electricity, shocking you and bringing you to your high

a whine leaves your body before you’re even aware of it, and the thoughts disappear as Raiden retracts his hand and looks at your with furrowed eyebrows and a slight pout

he tells you that you’re a bit sick perhaps, and he goes to the medicine cabinet on one side of the room, grinding herbs together while preparing a tea

soon enough, a steaming cup of tea sits in your hands that smells herbal and medicinal while Raiden towers over you to watch you finish it

you try to protest, but he glares at you and tells you that it’s better to take care of a cold earlier than later and chides you to finish the tea

grimacing at the smell, you gather your courage and drink the tea, eyes squeezing shut at the taste, but the drink goes down quickly and settles in your stomach

you shove the cup back into his hands, avoiding touching his bare skin, and scurry off back to your room with barely a goodbye

as soon as your bedroom door slams shut behind you, you lay on your bed and dip your fingers below your waistband, circling your clit and pumping them in and out of you

the thoughts plague your mind as you bring yourself closer to your climax, desperate and horny for them to fuck you

your whines and small moans of their names fill the room as you lose yourself in the pleasure, back arching off the bed and eye squeezed shut as you rub tight circles into your clit

jolts of pleasure wash over you quickly, pent-up from earlier that day, and your labored breaths fill the air as you cum on your fingers

as you open your eyes, sunlight streams through your room, which was strange because your window blinds were closed

you look to the door and find all four of the standing there, looking at you, with your hand down your pants

a flush covers your face, and you remove your slick-covered fingers from your pussy and try to stutter out an excuse

Kung Lao shuts the door behind them as they crowd into your room, circling your bed, and you finally notice how hard all of them are underneath their uniforms

after that day, you don’t bother wearing gloves anymore

[kisakis-boyfriend]

Scenario thirst/request: It’s already canon that Kaveh can’t handle his alcohol, but once he gets together with Reader he seriously needs to be cut off. Bars are gonna start denying him service bc instead of his normal complaints about some work client, he’s now complaining to any poor soul in the vicinity about how Reader’s cock is so big it’s impossible to take. Also won’t shut up about how they haven’t fucked him in ages (since yesterday) so they obviously think he’s hideous and don’t love him anymore. To top it all off he’s literally saying all of this while draped over Reader’s lap. He won’t stop whining until Reader drags him out the tavern and fucks him stupid in the alley around back.

Pairings: Kaveh x male reader

Warnings: Male!reader, dom/top!reader, sub/bottom!Kaveh, handjob, biting, whiny Kaveh, semi-public sex

The plan was to have a casual drink or two at the tavern, order a bit of food and maybe split a dessert with your beloved. You should have known better than that...

Now your beloved was whining to the tables next to yours about how your “ginormous monster cock” was just too biiiig! He can't handle taking the entire thing in his little ass but you make it fit anyways 🥺

The guests look on with irritated expressions and you mouth apologies at everyone...Kaveh's weight is sprawled out across your lap while he continues to moan and groan that it's “so so soooo biiiig–” You pinch the bridge of your nose and gulp down more of your drink as Kaveh's slender fingers tug at your shirt, drawing your attention downwards

The saddest, most pathetic expression makes it's way onto his face as he complains that, “You haven't fucked me in foreeeverrr- D'you not like me anymore...?” He slurs, pouting and sniffling. Another patron seated across from you makes eye contact and smirks, shaking their head. Everyone in the damn building can probably hear your partner's voice, seeing as alcohol tends to make him louder than usual...guess there's only one way to fix him now

“Heeeeyyy...don't push me off of– Aah!” Kaveh's startled noise draws even more attention towards the two of you as you drag him out of the bar by his arm. Passing by the owner and tossing a large pouch of mora onto the counter for all of the trouble. The blond protested the entire way out, attempting to grab the door frame so that you couldn't drag him along, though he was a bit too drunk to see straight enough to grab anything...

“Ow, owowow ooooowww!! Y/nnn...what's gotten into yo-oouu...?” Kaveh hiccuped. Your eye twitched in annoyance while your hands found their way onto the wall next to your partner's head, caging him in

“What's gotten into me? What's gotten into you! Mr. ‘My partner's cock is too fucking big uwu’?!” You whisper-yelled. Boring into Kaveh's accusatory eyes as he stammered, trying to form a response but getting cut off by your strong hands flipping him so that his torso was now pressed against the nearby wall. “If you're going to embarrass me in front of dozens of people, then I'm going to embarrass you in this alley. Whatever attention you draw is your own fault.”

At first, he did try to stay quiet, but your cock was actually pretty big and it caused him to have loose lips, especially with the added intoxication from a few drinks...

Kaveh's ass was red and sore after a while of pounding him into oblivion. Your dick was reaching all new places inside of him as you slid in and out vigorously, using every bit of leverage at your disposal to fuck into him faster and rougher, even if it meant that you'd have to carry him home afterwards. Whatever it took for your own tipsy mind to find peace with this punishment

Several instances of footsteps were heard during all of this. Probably people that picked up Kaveh's loud wails and moans, screaming “Cum-cumming—!! ” multiple times as you jerked him off while destroying his hole. His poor, sensitive shoulder was littered with angry bite marks from your own orgasms across the night. All of this would serve as a reminder the next morning; a reminder to work on biting his tongue whenever he drank

[glacierclear]

ISN'T BITE ALSO TOUCH?

fuckboy!leon x gn!reader (maybe a few gendered terms oops)

content: hurt/no comfort, angst, arguments, passive aggression, mentions of drugs/alcohol

Your best friend is a fuckboy. He ditches you at a party. You argue. Maybe they were right about him.

[ao3 link]

They all tried to tell you. Every single one of them.

He’s bad news, don’t bother. You would scoff.

He’s nothing but a walking penis. He doesn’t care about anything. And you’d roll your eyes.

Every red flag. Every warning sign. Every flashing light. You refused to heed any of them. And you tilled, and you sowed, and you fed. And now? You were reaping.

“I don’t get what the big deal is. You’re a big kid. You don’t need a damn babysitter.” His hands remained clenched, balled up and shoved into the pouch of his hoodie. His posture was lax. Noncommittal. He stared into a wall, his expression detached and unreachable.

“When you called me up tonight to drag me to some stupid frat party, I at least expected you to like, stay with me,” you countered. “We weren’t even there for an hour before you up and ditched me. Streaking across campus like a moron.” The base of your neck throbbed, the fledgling burn of an oncoming migraine. Your clothes still reeked of burnt weed and the cloyingly pungent whiff of cotton candy vape smoke.

“You should be fucking grateful. Wouldn’t have gotten into that party without me. Shit was the best thrasher of the month.” He lifted his head, scorching you with that know-it-all smirk. It huffed the coals of your stomach. You felt like puking.

“I didn’t…oh my god, Leon. I didn’t go for the party. I thought you…I don’t know. I thought you actually wanted to hang out. Have a good night.”

Your fingers burrowed their way through the folds of your sheets and you stayed perched at the edge of your bed. Leon hovered at your doorway, barely present in the space of your dorm, his contour fuzzed with casting light.

He didn’t say anything. Your eyes pulsed and stung. “Look. I’m not mad, I just–”

“You should be.”

“What?”

It’s then that he finally dared to meet your eyes. Blue hues swallowed whole by the pitch of his pupils, seeking you past tendrils of mussed, blonde hair.

“You should be mad. Why aren’t you? Cuz’, you’re right. I fucking ditched you. Like a moron.” He flung the word back with acid and you winced away. “God forbid I have some fun, right? Forgot you’re too much of a buzzkill to actually have fun at a party.”

There’s a throttling impulse to scream at him. Tell him off for being unreasonable and kick his ass to the curb like last week’s trash. But you’ve danced to this song before. The repeating pattern and pervasive enigma of Leon’s refusal to invest himself; emotionally, or otherwise.

So, you sucked in a steadying breath, filled your lungs with patience, and spoke softly.

“It’s not just about the party,” you began, and passively, you noticed him shift. “I mean…streaking? You realize that if you got caught doing that…you wouldn’t have a scholarship anymore. Hell, maybe you’d be expelled.”

The realization settled on him like a poison and you caught his face darken. As much as he denied and disguised, Leon was a smart man. Excellent standing in his classes and a whopping GPA to match the third leg he swung in his pants. It meant a lot to him.

There’s a gap of silence before he opened his mouth again.

“...well, I wasn’t caught. And it was my choice. I don’t need you nagging me like a fucking mom, alright?” His body shrunk in on itself. Caging his softer parts from the reality he narrowly avoided. On a better day, perhaps you’d chase him. Push and fight for a break in his shell, a crevice that gave way to the man you knew he was capable of being. But, God, your head was shattering. Your nausea was worsening. You weren’t making progress.

“Right, well, sorry for caring, Leon,” you relented, turning away from him to click your phone into its charger. “I’m going to bed. Don’t bother inviting me to any more parties.”

Your gaze left him, you weren’t fully aware of his body, but in the fleeting moments following your surrender he’s on you. Lurking above you like the baleful firmament of a roaring summer storm. You hardly had the time to open your mouth before he’s speaking. No, he’s growling. Revving the engine of his fury.

“...so that’s it? You’re not putting up with me anymore?” It could be the headache talking, but you swore you heard a tremble in his voice.

“Huh? The fuck are you–”

“We’re not friends anymore. That’s what you’re doing, right?” You searched the raging sea of his eyes for a raft. But all you did was drown. “I fucked up one too many times and now I’m just another shitty dude you had to put up with.” You watched the chipped black of his nails dig into his arms, tensed up limbs shielding him from what he’s most afraid you’ll confirm.

“Leon, that’s not…we’re still friends, okay? I just don’t want to go to parties like that anymore. Just give me a few days to cool off and we can…I dunno, we’ll hit up that burger joint you love.” It’s a pretty weak bargain, but maybe he’d bite.

And he did bite. He bit and he tore and he sought out blood.

“You’ve always had shitty taste in guys.” He practically spat at you, a scornful wrinkle deepening in the bridge of his nose. “Fucking stand up for yourself. You always let people walk all over you and act surprised when they turn out to be shitheads.”

He leaned in. You smelled him. Overpriced cologne. Underpriced shampoo. Crappy beer he drank even though he hated the taste. Despite it all, you yearned to hug him.

“Leon, I–”

“...and you know what? I don’t fucking need you. I don’t need your little dates. Your pity sex. I don’t need you looking out for my damn scholarships and I especially don’t need you making me look bad when I’m trying to let loose at the party I’ve been looking forward to all goddamn month.” You wanted him to stop. You wanted to bridge the chasm and devour his violence. If only he’d let you. But all he did was bite harder. “I won’t bother inviting you out anymore. Actually, I won’t bother talking to you at all. Have fun with your fucking life, I’m done being your fucking charity. Goodni–”

At the edge of his precipice, the void he dug for solace, Leon plummets. He straightened his spine, eyes widening and jaw hanging lifelessly. You were crying. Tears bursting without prejudice. Staining your face in vulnerability you so often only used to comfort him.

He went too far. And now, you were crying.

Neither of you moved for an eternity. From the hallway of your dorm, you hear the thundering trots of drunken friends laughing and yelling. The noise swelled and faded. The only evidence of a world beyond your room.

He called your name. His voice was so much quieter, held together with twine and stinging regret. You lifted your eyes and your throat barely allowed your words to pass.

“...Great job, Leon. Now I’m mad.” In an act of self-preservation, you tore your gaze away, burning a stare into the ground below his shoes. They’re blotched with dirt and chlorophyll, still damp from his midnight misdemeanor. “I won’t bother you anymore. If you hate me that much, I…I’ll leave you alone.”

His arms unfolded, one hand reaching out, a fragmented attempt to soothe you. But it was too late.

He repeated your name.

“I didn’t…fuck, I shouldn’t have said…hey–”

“Go home, Leon.” Your voice was unwavering, and he flinched back, your ire the open flame he’s too human to touch.

And then he left. Your dorm vibrated with the slam of the door, and you buried your face in your hands. In the place of his feet, soil stained your carpet. In the place of his warmth, sandalwood smoldered the air.

In the place of your love, all you wanted was to die.

[fillinforlater]

Eleven to One: Needy Bold Confession

Male Reader x Ahn Yujin

Length: 2888 words

Tags: ROUGH SEX, brat taming, nah fuck it, brat breaking, borderline hate sex, cursing, degredation, humiliation, spiting, spanking, slaps, pussy slaps, hardcore sex, mating press, squirting, creampie, tears, queefing, overstimulation, mutual anger, emotional stuff, FUCKED UP kinks mentioned at the end, family issues? ultimate_brat!Yujin / ultimate_brat-breaker!you

TW: ^^ (srsly, read the tags and beware of the end kekw)

Inspiration: the ending has been in planning for months, the rest is literally BFH fueled by Yujin's inability not to look insanely good and fuckable.

Credit: @sooyadelicacies, my beloved co-writer!

(A/N: yo, 100 fics. Thanks for reading!)

"Oh, now you're back."

You haven't even fully entered your apartment yet, but a venomous, annoyed shout already flies your way. You can feel Yujin tremble in rage and disgust—and she is still out of your sight, in another room.

"Yuj—"

"Did you have fun with those Unnies? Did you enjoy breeding them?"

Yujin's voice drips with deadly sarcasm, increasing both in volume and viciousness. You lay down the keys and look through the floor, into the rooms. They're all dark, not a single artificial light turned on. It's quite normal for you to return late, exhausted, either by the stress of work or the constant pounding of pussies. 

Yujin's brattiness increased to a toxic level. It’s probably because of her latest comeback, the hectic promotions and an obvious lack of attention by you. Partially your fault, the breeding had to come first, but you are still the Daddy in this, your house. With deadly coldness you speak into the dark living room:

"How dare you, Yuji—"

"Fine!" she snarls back and you hear the steps of strong leather boots behind you. "If you can hook up all the time with the others, maybe I can find someone else too!"

Eyes wide in disbelief, in unbridled rage, you slowly turn to look at your girlfriend. In the faint light of the moon falling into the apartment, you see the alluring, perfectly sculpted body of Yujin. Her pale skin and a tiny white crop top reflect some of the grayish rays, but the leather jacket on her shoulders and the tiny, miniscule mini skirt fit in perfectly with the darkness. They suck in the light and your gaze, which also shifts to her full thighs and the knees-high boots of a slut that could also kick ass.

Yujin is glaring, not as the usual bratty, Daddy defying girl, no, as a woman determined to convey you had fucked around and now would suffer the consequences, while also looking like temptation personified.

"Ahn Yujin, what the fuck do you think you're doing, wearing, saying? Someone else? 

“You. Fucking. Belong. To. Me." 

You emphasize each word like an arrow fired straight at her. Yujin sways in place for a second. She isn't playing, even your threatening finger, pointed at her face like the barrel of a gun doesn't faze her. She steps to the side, ready to walk past you.

"I can wear what I want," she snarks and places a hand on her hip. "I can wear what I want, I can fuck who I want. And You. Don't. Own. Me."

The two of you lock eyes. Not a word is said, not a single sound made, yet the tension makes it feel like a billion voices burst out in screams of fear, anger, lust. Your fingers ball into a fist.

"Bitch," you grunt through gritted teeth. "You're mine, bitch. Yujin, you will not go out there."

Yujin reaches past you, doorknob firmly in hand, devilish smirk on her features. She applies pressure.

"What if I just do?"

The door swings open, and it swings open faster when you pin Yujin against it. You stare down at her, trapped in between both of your arms on each side of her head. Yujin bites her lip for a second, but then avoids your eyes and tries to break free from your makeshift cage.

"Is that all that you got?"

Dig your fingers into her straight hair and twist, twist, twist with each second she doesn't beg for mercy for her foolish words. Yujin's face contorts in pain, but it does not lead to her breaking, instead she opens her mouth wide to moan impossibly loud. 

"Harder, Daddy!"

"Are you—"

Pull her back into the apartment by her hair and close the door.

"—fucking out of your mind? Moaning in the hallway—you have gone insane!"

"You can't even talk properly," Yujin responds, her attempts at hiding her winces futile. Her knees finally go weak when you pull her hair down. Unfortunately, you lose your grip on the straight darkness and Yujin frees herself with a quick step backwards.

"Seriously, and you want to be my Daddy. I get someone to take me hard—"

Your hand is like the claw of a falcon in dive, grabbing its helpless victim before finishing it off. In this case, Yujin. She struggles to get a breath out as your digits tighten around her throat. Without relent you push her backwards, her fierceness and the grip on her boots no match for your anger. Somewhere in your large living room, she gives up.

"Ple-please, Daddy, ca-can't breathe."

Yujin falls to her knees and you loosen your grip a little. Just as she takes in new oxygen, you make her take a harsh slap to her face. Tears jump into her eyes, the hit has her flashbanged for a moment—a moment which you use to tear open the slutty mini skirt.

"You have been bad." Your voice is deep, booming straight to Yujin's glowing face with its faint imprint of your hand. "Worse than ever before. Take your punishment!"

Rinse and spit down at her. Bangs stick to her forehead as your saliva runs down her fearful face. From her throat, a hand snakes down into her top until you find a nipple. Pinch it, twist it while doing the same to her cheek.

"You want hard?" you ask, your voice indicating that you don't accept any answer, that her response is unwanted. "Then I'll show you hard."

In a terrible shrill sound, Yujin's crop top tears open. The shocked, panicking idol tries to keep herself upright on your legs, but you kick her hands away. The only stability for her are your hands that attack her body and its beautiful, sensitive spots.

Lips, nipples, tits, they all get resounding smacks that color them in a strong red. Yujin screams, whines and finally moans, but the thought of her experiencing pleasure before you enrages you even more. Slap her flushed cheek to send a wave of numbness and paleness over them before red pain follows in the imprint of your merciless fingers.

"D-Daddy, I'm so—"

"Apology declined." Spit at her again. "You don't mean it and you're far from understanding any of this."

Twist both nipples at the same time. Your constant pulls at them might have stretched out Yujin's tits a bit more. At least they look larger. Or is it just that the image of Eunbi with her enormous bosom is still burned into your mind?

Yujin throws her head back. She arches backwards and her leather jacket finally slides down her shoulders. For the first time, you go on eye level with her—just to immediately bite into her shoulder. This time, her loud, screeching voice is stuck in the back of her throat. Will she ever get her mind back after this?

"You are mine, Yujin, you are fucking mine. You are my whore, a stupid one at that. You don't think I know exactly what I did? I fucking bred Hyewon. I'd do it again. I bred Eunbi and I'd do it again. But you, you aren't ready to be bred!" 

Interrupt your rant to give Yujin more slaps across her baffled, horny, pained face.

"You're a brat! You think if I dumped my seed inside you, if I got you pregnant, you would be ready to raise a child? Hyewon, Eunbi, they are ready. You will be fucking bred when I deem it time. You don't make demands, and you don't get someone else's attention. Yujin

"I have marked you!"

"Sorry, D-Daddy, I'm so-sorry."

The first tears start to roll down, straight from Yujin's ducts over her sore cheeks until they touch your fingers at her jaw. Make her stare up through blurry eyes at your almost hateful expression. You might allow yourself to go mad, but you're tapping into feelings you shouldn't. She is still Yujin, still your girlfriend.

"You might be a confident, independent idol," you growl into her ear, forcing her down until she is laying on the floor and you can drag her skirt away from her crotch. "But you are mine, mine alone. Don't ever do this again, because we both know there is no one else for you.

"Just look at how wet you are, you kinky pain slut."

Yujin's skirt rests at her knees, legs stretched out as best as she can. Your hand rubs her crotch, slick with her juices. Her pink panties are soaked, every inch a darker color than when she bought them. Squeeze the fabric in your fist, like you would wring out a sponge, and juice runs through your fingers.

"This is insane, you're such a needy slut."

"I-I missed you, D-Daddy, I need your touch so bad."

"And still you threaten me with finding someone else, someone who could never satisfy you."

"I—ah, Daddy!"

Get rid of the skirt and give her pussy a harsh slap, shutting down her excuses instantly. Your girlfriend starts to twist and turn on the ground, her breath heavy, her tears heavier as they find the floor.

"You need to be punished, Yujin," you bluntly say with new found calmness. "I know I can make you cum with just slaps, but not tonight. Tonight you will beg me to stop, but I'll only stop when I see fit."

Another slap, on her folds, a millimeter away from her clit. Yujin yelps.

"Do you understand, whore?"

"Y-yes, Daddy," Yujin stutters and looks at you with wide, submissive eyes. "I deserve this punishment."

She bites her lips, her eyes squeeze shut. Sensually, you drag your palm gradually over her labia before you take a swing. 

A wet slap when you hit the drenched panties. Yujin buckles her hips towards the punishing hand and hisses. She is keeping her voice, her reaction down... a crucial mistake.

The smacks don't stop coming. Like a merciless bombing you make the covered lips turn a painful red. Yujin breaks, screams, cries, until her voice spills all of her sins before you:

"Daddy! I'm so-sorry! Your bitch, ha-has been re-really desperate, envious—a needy toy that needs your co-cock and cum!"

Push her panties into the twitching hole a bit and urge her to continue.

"I-I love Daddy, I wa-want him first, for me, bu-but—that wo-would not be fa-fair.

"Daddy needs to breed more."

You lean down to the disheveled face and pull away a couple of dark strands that have landed in Yujin's mouth and in her eyes. You stop her murmurs with a peck on her lips, but your sweetness is short lived. Push her legs apart and fish out your cock. Rub it over her clit and interrupt her hearty moans.

"You are right. You said it yourself. My good girl was never against it, but now you decided to react like this? Ts, what a bitch!"

"I'm so-so-sorry, Daddy."

Your cockhead twitches as you push aside the wet fabric and see the sore, burning mess of Yujin's gorgeous folds. Pretend to tease her, then fill her up without warning.

"Daddy! Ah, fuck!"

Press her knees a bit further apart. Her body is ready for the taking, her insides need to get stimulated, but Yujin knows that she can't deal with your length for long. Her orgasm is certain, right around the corner. It's only natural after weeks without your cock.

"Slo-slow, please," she whimpers, fingers searching for a grip on the smooth floor. "Sen-sen-sensit—hng!"

Yujin chokes. No need to squeeze her throat this time, just give her hard thrusts into the desperate pussy. Pain on the outer lips, followed by overstimulation inside are the catalysts for an earthquake in Yujin's body. Random babbles come through drooling lips as you pump into her recklessly.

"I can't believe you came from just this!" you say with fake shock, never stopping to move your hips. Throughout you make sure that your pelvis hits the outside of her pussy, to make her cry some more. 

Yujin is beyond the point of begging, hell, she doesn't even know what to beg for. It's so bad, it's good—painful punishment and absolute, undeserved, sinful bliss every second, every thrust.

Before she loses her sense of when an orgasm starts and another ends, you go slower. Yujin writhes and twitches, the high fading slowly, until you restart it with fingers violently rubbing her clit.

"Daddy-ahh!"

"Cum, baby," you growl, sweat soaking your suit from the inside. "Don't stop cumming."

More and more slickness. Juice coming out as squirt is just lube getting fucked back into her. Yujin's walls ripple, her thighs as well when you press and fold her.

Pin her arms down with yours right above the mess that was her styled hair. Pin her face down on the ground with yours, tongue fucking her numb mouth. Pin her hips down with yours and force another orgasm out of her. 

"Who else can fuck your pink hole until you cum, until it's loose, until it's stuffed?"

"Daddy, only Daddy!"

Strain her muscles more, the mating press now the ultimate position to suck all the energy out of the young brat. The wet slaps of crotch on crotch are now queefs, loud, but not as loud as Yujin's guttural moans. Viciously, you press your palm on her mouth and make her hear the embarrassing, lewd sounds that come from her pussy.

"You dumb slut," you laugh in between heavy breaths, your own strength gradually declining as you near your own orgasm. "Anything you want to say?"

Yujin's eyes are glassy, filled more with lust than life. She sobs into your ear, snort running down her cheeks.

"I wa-want to be-be Daddy's number one.

"In our family. Please, Daddy! I only wan-want this. Please, I beg you!"

"Family?"

You groan out in shock. As you piston your load in massive spurts into Yujin's clenching heat, the craziest thoughts flood your mind. A family, yes, but the most immoral one imaginable.

A mommy in Eunbi, a caring leader. She knows everyone inside out and never hesitates to help. Hyewon is a different type of mommy, the one who'd like to carry a lot of children, who is submissive to the male of the house, but also smart and successful.

Minju is the beautiful, gullible sister. A klutz that everyone loves, someone who could never harm a fly. Last but not least, Yujin, the center piece, the insanely talented bratty girlfriend of yours and "sister" to Minju. 

Yujin's walls get stretched by the abundance of cum you dump inside of her pussy. Your mind stretches too, comes up with even crazier thoughts. What about an ex coming into your family life, a maid to clean your apartment, a pet to play with, a neighbor to distract, or maybe more realatives? People to fill your absurd family—you're starting to lose it. 

Collapse onto your girlfriend, only your elbows saving her from being painfully squashed by your tired, sweaty body. The two of you breathe heavily to find fresh oxygen in this living room now smelling of sex and sex alone. 

"Are you serious about this family?" you ask after a while. Yujin dries off the last remnants of her tears and gives you obedient puppy eyes. You continue. "Like, with Eunbi and Hyewon and Minju—it's crazy. I guess we are used to crazy, but this is taking it to a whole new level."

Yujin hesitates for a second. She reaches for your face and strokes your cheekbone down to your chin with her wet fingers. Her features contort as if she is about to cry again. You try to heal her—she's cried enough tonight—and press your lips on hers. Just a peek, but Yujin sighs in relief, the last remnants of tension leaving her nude body.

"Y-yes, Daddy," Yujin whispers, "I want that. I want to be together with them, and want to be sure that I won't lose them to you and you to them. Nothing should stand in between us, I-I'll be a good girl in the family, I'll do anything for you. Daddy, please, I'm sorry, don't leav—"

Plant another kiss on the girl below you. The tremble in her voice is like a hot bath for your cold heart, like a tea in winter. It's melting you, breaks the shell that you so attentively keep up around her.

Maybe you went too far. Yujin literally looks broken, the character of the girl, no, your girl, in danger of dissolving and disappearing. Swallow your pride, God dammit.

"Yujin, Yujin, I'm at fault here. No matter how much I hated the thought of you going out in that outfit and meeting another guy, I should not have gone this far. After all…

"You're mine, Yujin. My one and only girlfriend. We'll only do and continue pursuing this family if you are okay with it. Don't change, pl-please, but also, never attempt something like this again."

You kiss Yujin's hand gently. This you can do; it's better than saying this damn word starting with 'p' and ending with 'lease'. She smiles, weakly at first, but the longer you keep eye contact, the more of her bright, mesmerizing smile appears. 

She kisses the back of your hand as well, her eyes in clear devotion, her voice honest and strong.

"I'm yours, Daddy."

.

(A/N2: Yujin bruh 😳☠️😳)

[sirenmoth]

Monster Mash - Vampire

CW: blood, blood marking, marking, blood kink, blood as lube, biting, bruises, hickies, sleepy sex, soft sex, brief oral sex, praise

Monster Mash Masterlist <- Previous || Next ->

Late night or maybe early morning was when one of them decided they needed you and your daily activities began. Being woken up no longer feeling the warmth of the blankets over you, the feeling is replaced by a set of cold arms carrying you, bridal style, into the house. You got a few good hours of undisturbed much needed rest, the Satyr let you stay in his hut to heal and help with anything while you stayed in bed, recuperating from tending to your werewolf mate with his rut the prior week. Your whole body ached and was sore all over, muscles tense and bruised, so sleeping in a warm and comfy bed was a dream come true. Now you're being placed down on a set of satin silk beddings and the welcoming chill of the room, two telltale signs of where you are and who you are with.

The cold air that drifts around the room like a sprite and the dim lighting make it seem like the candle flames cast shadows of dancing figures across the walls.

"Sorry if I woke you, my love, just you looked so peaceful and etherial while you slept, I should get a painting done to capture it." Your vampire lover whispered in your ear, "Though I don't think it would do your beauty justice."

Cold, corpse-like hands wandered over your body, up your thighs and rested on your hips, massaging and kneaded the flesh like a cat as he left butterfly kisses on your neck, pulling the shirt up to reveal your lower half bare. His hands moved towards the faded marks in feather-like touches, tracing the barely visible bites and bruises that decorated your skin, tracing them like he is admiring his work.

The shirt didn't last long, whose shirt was it? Was it yours or one of your partners? Either way it was now nothing but a pile of scraps, ripped from your body with a growl, it probably smelled like one of your mates anyway. "Stupid piece of fabric," he muttered, "smells vile, it ruins yours, can't have that now, can we? Not when you're with me." He nipped at the flesh on your neck with his fangs, softly prying your legs open. Slotting himself between them while he caged you with his arms around your waist.

Small nips and bites on your jugular, drawing the tiniest amounts of blood, like he's taste testing his meal to come while he worked you up, teasing you by rubbing your thighs, kissing and biting down your body until his head was between your thighs, he placed a kiss to your inner left thigh. Looking up at you as he started to nip at your legs, before biting down on your left thigh, causing you to yelp from the sudden pain and feeling, watching as he held a tight, bruising grip on your leg as he drank.

Moaning out softly at the vampires actions and the sensation of him feeding, you let your head fall back on the soft, plush pillows, flinching ever so slightly as he bites down at a new area, switching between them as he feasts, briefly stopping to mouth at your slit, the blood from his meal dripping down on to you and the bed below. Using his tongue to lap up as much of missed blood as possible, using it as a way to show you are his. Running his tongue up and down to your hole and back up to your clit, in long-drawn-out strokes, "You always taste so good." He speaks, muffled, as he buries his face into the flesh of your thigh once more.

More nips and bites as he makes his way back up your body to your neck, stopping to spread more of your blood on your skin, kissing it to leave bloody kisses in his wake, marking you in your own blood even more. Your lover removes his cock from his cock from his trousers, grinding between your legs, collecting your wetness, blood and your werewolves leftover cum, being mindful of the marks and open bite wounds he recently just left on your skin.

Humming you spread your legs wider for him, giving whatever form of verbal conformation your sleep idled, recently fucked for a whole week brain can manage, the vampire lines himself up to you before slowly slipping the tip of his dick in, "oh, loot at that, you're so wet, that mutt opened you up nicely, stretched you wide," leaning over your body, he places kisses to the side of your mouth, passing some of your own blood to you, staining your lips red, "Bet I can slide right in."

He was right, one quick thrust and his pelvis met yours, your gummy walls welcomed him with no issues. He started with small bites on your neck once again, little grazes of his fangs here and there, barely functioning the soft tissue. Lazily grinding into you, enjoying the warmth of your walls and skin, draping his cold body over yours as he held you by the hips.

Then he started to leisurely fuck you, mindlessly while he ate, fixated on feeding off you, sucking on your neck to stake his claim knowing the other would see and take it as a challenge, pulling orgasm and orgasm from you as he humped, stimulating that small bundle of nerves. The skin around your neck and shoulders, as well as your inner thighs, are scattered in bright red marks that will soon bloom into a garden of blemishes and bruises for you to admire.

He always says your blood taste better, more savoury, when lust and arousal coursed through your veins like a forest fire. Like a drug, a drug he never wanted to quit or give up, even if he tried to. Feasting on you while you lay there and look pretty, not even in a sexual way, was a sight your vampire loved more than anything, except maybe his love and devotion for you.

Getting slowly fucked while your mind balances on the tightrope between unconscious and conscious. Was there any way better than spending your time?

A few drops drip down the valley between your breasts, the vampire smirks, bowing his head down to a lick a few up, running his fingers over the rest, smearing the blood over your skin as he picks it up. Watching with half-lidded eyes as he brings his fingers up to his mouth to devour the liquid meal that tried to escape, making a show of weaving his tongue between his fingers to ensure nothing is missed, not once breaking eye contact, leaning his body back over you once done.

"Delicious, so sweet." You moan softly at his words, half drunk off orgasms and the overstimulation from last week's ordeal, half off bloodless. Another orgasm is pushed from you when he grinds his hips against you again, his thrusts speed up to the point where your overly tired body can't keep your legs or eyes open. Reaching for his left hand, intertwining your fingers with his, holding his hand while your free arm wraps around his neck, playing with his hair while he drinks from you.

Several bites litter your pulse points, bright red and wet with saliva from where he's been recently feeding. His grip tightens around your hips, nails digging into the flesh, drawing out more pin prickles of blood, finally spilling his cum into you as he takes one last mouthful of blood, stilling his hips and he laps up what's left as you catch your breath.

You lay there in each other embrace, he cradles your head with his free hand, not letting go of yours, giving short kisses as his undead body cools down your overheated one. Slowly removing himself to get up and grab a wash cloth while you lay there on his bed, cleaning you up and tending to the bites and bruises with a healing cream the orc brought back from one of his travels a while ago. Pulling you close, his ear close to a vein so he can hear your heartbeat, it was something that calmed him, hearing your heart rhythmically beating, you had a feeling it was because he missed his own, but he was defensive when asked. He let you sleep, regain some energy and catch up on the sleep he disturbed a few moments prior, before your other lovers came knocking and asking for a turn.

[biteofcherry]

Sweet and stained

Sweet and stained

soft dark Nick Fowler x female reader

a Hades/Persephone inspired AU set in modern times, with an implied mafia background

summary: You live in the sun and blooms, under your mother's protective wing (or is it cage?). When Nick Fowler strolls into your life, he brings a wave of thrilling fresh with the darkness that follows him.

warnings: soft!dark Nick Fowler; sort of dub-con; kidnapping; manipulation; light corruption kink; mentioned breeding kink; a bit of smutty scenes included;

Author's Note: This is a trope that won the poll for my birthday celebration story. Honestly, the way I imagined this fic at first is completely different from how it turned out. Less sharp than my usual style and more of a gloomy, start-of-the-autumn poetics. Still, I hope you'll enjoy!

You never knew black could shimmer so brilliantly, even though you saw its various shades in petals of unique flowers. The night sky’s ink was dotted with sparkling dust, too, after all. Yet it was only now that you noticed the luminosity of dark, as your head tilted back on the softest pillows and your gaze roamed the supple garlands of the black canopy.

Dark interior, which scared you the first time you took a step inside, now engulfed you in heady warmth. Like a sip of spicy hot chocolate, so rich and thick it coats your tongue and fills your belly with a bitter bite to its general sweetness.

There’s more spice than sweetness to your captor, but you began realizing he remained the only one to treat you with softness. As if he truly cared.

Perhaps he did? 

Maybe the charm and patience he showed you at the beginning were as true as the ruthless possessiveness with which he bound you to him. 

You had years to find that out. Decades at his side, to unravel the scary mystery that was Nick Fowler.

Your husband.

His face above you, as he sat beside your sweaty, spent body, shone a serene glow. His eyes a shade of clear lake, with monsters luring in the depths. 

You still feared him, but Nick gave you enough proof that he wouldn’t hurt you. 

Even if his plan for you was weaved out of nefarious intentions. 

He set aside the glass of water which he brought to your lips a moment ago, soothing your throat that dried out from how much you screamed for him. 

It’s for the best that you couldn’t speak at the moment, your breath still ragged; since you didn’t know what you’d say to him after all the debauched things he did to you. Post sex pillow talk was never your forte, but it was even more awkward after willingly spreading your legs for a man who ripped you from your life as one plucked a flower from the ground.  

Silently, you watched Nick once again pick a crystal bowl from the nightstand, a shiny barrow of pomegranate seeds peeking above the rim. 

He devoured some moments before he indulged in your dripping pussy.  

Seeds glistened ruby richness on Nick’s fingers as he brought them to your lips; his own mouth stained with the juice. He left traces of the red sweetness on your thighs and mound, mixing pomegranate flavor with your combined spend. 

Your lips wrapped around his digits as he spilled fruity grains on your tongue. One of your hands rested on your belly, just below your navel. 

Nick has repeatedly filled you with seeds that night, not only those of a pomegranate. 

It made you tremble. His intent was clear; not only shown in relentless, deep thrusts, but dark and dirty words whispered into your ear. 

Your body shouldn’t react so eagerly to his plans, arching and spasming in whorish acceptance as he ordered you to take it; as he fucked you through one climax into another, telling you of his heir swelling in your womb. 

Disgust should have filled you, instead of arousal. Because as much as you believed Nick was going to dote on you, his owning of your body in every sense was driven by revenge. 

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

With the wide rim of the sunhat on your head limiting your view and your focus on the pots dancing away from you (the wind that day was wickedly playful, knocking over the smaller pots every time you righted them), you weren’t paying much attention to your surroundings. 

People walked past, some gleefully talking about plants, others arguing on what was or wasn’t needed in their garden. On a sunny day like that, Demeter Gardens had as many customers as a fun fair on weekends. 

The staff was really busy on days like this, doubling their efforts, because it was usually when your mother chose to grace the place with her radiant presence - radiant to the customers, an absolute harpy to her workers. 

There were many traits you admired about your mother. The most inspiring was the fact she was a barely out of teens single mother who managed to raise you and start a business that flourished into a state known brand. 

She had her faults, too. Like the high expectations and harsh tongue when someone didn’t meet her standards.

It went both for her employees and her daughter. 

Working with plants soothed you, so at least your future as the heiress to the empire your mother wanted you to take over didn’t look as grim. Even if some evenings you cried into a pillow, because it wasn’t what you dreamt of at all.

Growing under her wing, you didn’t get much of a chance to explore what exactly you could dream of, what called out to you, but you simply knew that running a gardening business wasn’t it. 

You never dared to tell your mother that. Enough times have you suffered her cruel words, snide remarks regarding anything that strayed even a step away from her grand plans. Demeter had ambition rivaling many moguls and she poured it onto you as well. The only praise you got was when you won any sort of competition, or mentioned business plans. 

Your mother may have only spiteful words to say about your absent father, but she possessed the same self-centered core as him. Rotten and unkind. 

How plants flourished under her hands, you had no idea. 

Though she didn’t spend much time with them anymore, leaving it to people who really liked working with plants. You liked the peace and quiet it offered, which is why you spent almost every day at the gardening center. 

“Excuse me?” A smooth male voice startled you.

Not only with how sudden and close it was, but also because it was so unusual in a place mostly filled with cheery, loudly speaking families or couples. 

You turned your head, pulling the rim of your sunhat up with your dirty fingers, so you could see the person better. 

Your gaze met a pair of blue eyes, with a silvery gray swirl in them, that chilled you like an autumn rain pattering on your skin. A shadow of stubble along a chiseled jaw, which would feel under your fingertips like frosty needles of the first hoarse coating November leaves. Subtle, pink lips curved in a smile, but its charm didn’t fully cover the sharp threat of teeth that could sink in ‘till blood spilled like in spooky nightmares of autumnal season.

This man looked like the stillness of dying nature, engulfed in fog and chilling to the bones. A dark spirit amongst the lush greenery and blooming life that stretched all around. 

And yet he was more beautiful than any man you ever laid eyes on. 

“Yes?” You swallowed nervously, mostly to wet your suddenly dry throat. “Can I help you?”

“I’m sure you can,” he said softly, his voice a brush of cool silk. 

“See, I usually hire garden designers to take care of any greenery around my business buildings, but the one at my actual home? I wanted to work on it myself.”

“Understandable.” You smiled at him. “Having your own garden is a personal thing. Working on it helps you connect with the place that will be your oasis.”

“The problem is, I quickly realized I have zero idea what I’m doing. But I’m a stubborn bastard, who’s still adamant on chasing what he set his eyes on.” He sighed dramatically, making you laugh.

“Anyway-” he shook his head- “I’m Nick. Please, help me out?” 

You gave him your name, taking his hand when he outstretched it. His fingers were calloused, though it’s the cool brush of metal of his rings that sent tiny spikes of sensation through you. 

“What exactly do you need my help with, Nick?” You took off your sunhat and squinted slightly as the sunlight soaked your vision. 

“My tastes are… unique.” You knew he spoke about aesthetic preferences, but couldn’t help hearing the double meaning behind it. Especially with the sensual flick of his tongue over his bottom lip.

“I’m mostly out the whole day,” Nick continued explaining, “coming home only in the evening. Which is when I wish to spend most time in the garden. To relax and enjoy its secret beauty.”

“You want night bloomers.” You guessed, grinning ear to ear.

Flowers blooming in the evening and through the night were one of your favorites. There was something about them that called out to you. Perhaps the fact they were overlooked under the radiant sun, hiding their secret beauty to flourish in shadows, when no one could judge them. 

There was also the aura of mystery about them, pairing so well with your fondness for gloomy and gothic stories. 

“See? I knew I was asking the right person for help.” Nick mirrored your smile; his made you a little weak in the knees. 

“You have to get the Moonflower, of course.” You moved and gestured for Nick to follow you, as you led him to the far end of the center. 

“I have to?” Nick chuckled, matching your step to walk beside you rather than behind you. 

Shoulder to shoulder with him, you suddenly realized he was taller than at first sight. Much warmer than what his dark aura suggested, too. And his scent was a toe-curling reminder of spicy mulled wine sipped by the fireplace.

“Yes!” You nodded, brushing your fingertips along the plants you passed on your way. “Moonflower is my favorite. It’s similar to the morning glory. You won’t see its full beauty now, but I assure you it never disappoints.”

When you finally reached the corner with potted plants - from smallest to those quite grown already - Nick bent over to examine it closely. He gently trailed the heart-shaped leaves, then plucked the yellow card attached to one of the thin stems. 

“Moonflower, or moon vine,” he read aloud, “is a night-blooming morning glory that opens in the evening and stays full until morning.”

Nick straightened and turned to you, gaze slowly dragging up your body. When his eyes met yours, there was a glint of something cold and dangerous in them. As if for a split of a second you saw a flash of instrumental triumph.

“Opens in the evening and stays full until morning,” he repeated the words, his voice dropping an octave and filling your belly with unexpected heat. “I like it already.” 

“Uh, well-” you squeezed the rim of the sunhat in your grasp- “Yes, see, I told you. You’ll like it even more when it blooms in your garden.”

“I know I will.” Nick affirmed solemnly. 

Something about his gaze, or perhaps it was the set of his jaw, quickened your pulse with a warning that his intent was more than just a harmless flirting. There was this tinge of danger about him, fizzing on the tip of your tongue with a spicy aftertaste. 

If you licked his skin, the cold darkness may swallow you, but everything inside you would set aflame. 

Apprehension tingled inside your chest, like wind chimes’ pearly tune that lured with their woeful longing. Reason whispered to take a step back, but feet moved forward on their own, drawn to the inner flame that may as well be straight from hell. 

It was hard to break eye contact with Nick, but you feared if you didn’t look away he’d mesmerize you into selling your soul. And your body. Body which awoke with yearning to have his fingertips trail along your skin the same way he touched the plants.

Somehow you managed to turn away. The sun’s warmth returned to your cheeks, caressing your face with soothing lightness the second you stepped away from Nick’s gloomy aura.

“You should also get night blooming Jasmine. It smells so sweet.” You rambled about plants, clutching onto the topic like it was a lifebuoy keeping you afloat from sinking into fascinating, but scary depths that were Nick’s eyes. 

“And Angel’s Trumpets!” With your presentation, excitement returned. 

You were helping create something personal, something so very unique. However Nick chose to use your advice, you had a blissful sense of creating something yourself. A garden that may as well be yours, since it catered to your aesthetic and needs as well. 

Nick ordered so many of the plants you listed that not only did you run out of stock, but had to set up a delivery from another center. You weren’t sure how big Nick’s garden was, but considering the amount of plants it had to be a king-sized land. 

The thought of roaming it in the late evening, with dusk hiding hues of purple and gold in a shroud of ink black, and moonlit petals opening up for the life of creatures of the night; it made your heart yearn.

You’d love to wander through that garden. 

For someone who ran a gardening empire, your mother kept you both locked in a metal and glass skyscraper, in a two-floor penthouse with (amazing, but contained) view of the city. 

It was a cage. 

As you watched Nick walk away after he paid in advance for the order, though he took with him some chilling sense of danger, you envied his freedom to simply walk away from the sun and the blooms. 

Many would be jealous of you, you were aware of that. Living among lush greenery and constant sun seemed wonderful. It was to an extent. But this pristine, spring and summer only land, didn’t allow difference. There was no real room for unusual, dark undertones of wicked hearts that would love to have wild mushrooms spread over their lawn instead of snobby hydrangeas. 

When a cooling cloud shielded you from the scorching sun, coming along with Nick as he returned the next week, you felt like breathing freely for the first time since he walked away. 

This time he asked for fruit trees which he wanted to scatter among other types. The idea immediately struck you as unique, making your heart jump. 

Most of the time people divided their gardens - strict lines and areas for vegetables, separating them from decorative flowers. Mixing them up seemed chaotic, but so wonderful. What a surprise to walk through gemstone garlands of wisteria to find juicy peaches at arm’s reach. Or to tread through ferns and moonflowers to discover gooseberry bushes hidden amongst them. 

When Nick came on a third week, your excitement at his presence and news of his garden overpowered any sense of reason that kept you at a certain distance with him. 

And when he mentioned that keeping a routine and being at the center on the same day, same hour every week could be dangerous. 

“Someone could watch you, learn your schedule and plan how to steal you, Moonflower.” 

Having Nick call you Moonflower - the word rolling out on his tongue in a hum of wind, chilling to the bone, but igniting that deep-soul yearning - stirred feelings that overpowered the warning. 

Or maybe you started living for that rush of thrill Nick’s shadow elicited. The only spot of darkness allowed in your life. Enriching it thus. 

Still, fear resurfaced with tentacles of cold wrapping around you and plucking you from the sunny spot in broad daylight as you trotted to work the week after. On the same day as usual, with a bounce to your step as thirst for Nick’s brand of addictive flavor parched your throat. 

The car was black; a polished, obsidian arrowhead spearing the sheet of morning light. The engine’s sound more the growl of a prowling beast than the roar of an unhinged monster. 

Despite the speed, it stopped gracefully at the curb, cutting off your route. Nick’s silhouette stunned you as he exited the car; the blue-green depth of his eyes darker than when he walked along with you through blooming alleys. 

A smile didn’t have a chance to spread on your lips when his hand covered your mouth, the other arm wrapping around you. 

You screamed when he dragged you inside the car, but calloused fingers stifled the sound effectively. Wet tinkle of your cries reverberated against the metal of the rings adorning Nick’s fingers. 

Pleading eyes, so full of unanswered questions and fear, didn’t cut through the veil of composure. One had no chance begging their life out of death’s grip and Nick’s hold on you was a finality set in stone, as if the grim reaper came to harvest your soul to lead it to undying gardens for the rest of eternity. 

“No need for tears, Moonflower.” Nick took his hand from your mouth as the car sped away.

His touch traveled down your shaking arm, harsh fingers delivering surprisingly comforting caress. He took your hand in his and brough your palm to his mouth, kissing softly each knuckle. 

“I’ll make you a queen and treat you as such. No harm will ever be done to you.” 

“You kidnapped me,” you pointed out, voice quiet and quivering, though you bravely held his gaze. “That’s quite harmful.” 

“It’s only a means to avoid meddling of forces that would otherwise keep you away from me.” Nick rested his head back against the seat. “From what I found out about you, they’ve quashed you enough.”

“You know nothing about me, or my life!” You huffed, squirming back into the corner, your back against the side door.

You were never a physical fighter and Nick made no move to grip or hurt you other than pulling you into the car, so you didn’t attack him. You also doubted you had much of a chance of earning anything beside exhaustion and bruises. 

It was pitiful to admit, but you never fought anything or anyone beside the dragons in your head. The rebellion and storm were caged within your chest, mind full of words you wanted to scream at your mother, your father, the whole world. But you never did it. Never felt secure enough in your strength to cut those ties. 

“I know you’re dedicated and smart, finished on top of your class, gaining a degree that you never wanted to have in the first place.” Nick replied calmly.

His unperturbed composure was as much soothing as resonating with your usual behavior. Though you sensed that his limits weren’t pushable. If it came to it, his retaliation to being crossed would be severe. Lethal even. 

You envied that power. 

You wanted that power.

“You have passion for creativity and you are a fucking brilliant survivor.” Those words were spoken with admiration; a brilliant foam lighting up the sea storm of Nick’s irises. 

“You don’t love gardening as a business. I doubt you’re even interested in actual gardening work. But you see and love plants, their uniqueness, the details of them. You like their beauty, even the unusual ones. You’re an artist, Moonflower.”

Your heart burst with an intermixture of colorful emotion - a hail of fireworks against the black depth that is your caged life. 

“Artists should never be shackled into expectations.” 

“Yet you took me, because you expect something from it,” you retorted bitterly. 

“I expect nothing beyond you being by my side.” Nick’s fingers circled one of your wrists, thumb pressing against your pulse. “And strengthening the power of my empire.” 

“And how am I supposed to do that?” There was nothing of value that you could give him. Did he hope for a dowry and connections from your father? 

“Just by being with me.” He shifted, crowding you against your little safety corner. “Coming home to you would sweeten every hard day, knowing that I ripped something most precious from the one who took everything from my family.”

Comforting spices of his scent conflicted with the shadows he shrouded you in, painting a picture of a fairy tale that’s twisted enough that it shouldn’t be enjoyable. Yet struggling against the thorny veins of Nick’s plan seemed to have the opposite effect, pushing you further into forests of unknown thrills. 

“So I’m a vengeance plan?” You’d prefer it if your voice didn’t betray the disappointment, but it was too late to take back that undertone now. 

“Vengeance doesn’t mean burning the world down. That’s too simple and holds no ongoing effect.” Nick’s mouth curved in a scythe of dangerously alluring smirk, his eyes darkening. “Phoenixes rise from the ashes of burnt kingdoms. I rose from it.”

“My type of vengeance is to flourish on the fertile fields of my enemy’s broken ambitions.”

You believed Nick’s every word - that he had the resilience and endurance to build himself from whatever ruin his opponents left him with. It honed him, like hell fire does an indestructible blade. 

Many would use that lethal edge to cut the throats of all enemies. But Nick’s revenge wasn’t to bring short term pain and wipe out the others, he wanted them to drown in their suffering, to stretch it out plucking petal after petal of their lush empires. 

“You, Moonflower-” he skimmed his fingers along your arm and up the column of your throat- “are my prosperity. My core to thrive.”

“Binding you to me and allowing you to bloom into a woman you always wished to be, whatever form that may take,” Nick loosely curled his fingers around your neck, “will make me happy for I know you’re a brilliant gem. But I won’t hide that it will also crush the rotten heart of my enemy.”

“Seeing you at my side, growing along me and with me-” something about that particular choice of words unfurled heat in your core, like the time he mentioned flowers staying full-

“-will keep the flame of anger and pain consuming her daily.”

“Her?” you suddenly blinked, moving your legs slightly to alleviate the pressure that uncomfortably grazed your folds. 

“My mother?” You stared at Nick in bewilderment. “She’s your enemy?” 

Nick chuckled, though you weren’t sure if it was at your astonishment or the squirmy movement of your body which he noticed. He leaned closer still, knees brushing against yours. Where the fabric of your summer dress rolled up on your thighs, the fine fabric of his suit pants grazed your skin. 

“Your mother may present herself as the survivor against all odds and she is very determined, I’ll give her that. She also became heartless in her need to improve her life and show the world she doesn’t need help, ripping the fortune of others to build herself.” 

“She stole from you?” There wasn’t much shock in your response. After all, you knew the backstage face of the gardening queen; the truth behind the sunny smile of the nature-loving new age goddess. 

“From my family.” Nick gritted his teeth at the mention. “They took her pregnant under their roof, taught her family secrets of maintaining lush flowers. I was barely four when you were growing in her belly, but I remember her always slapping my hand away when I wanted to touch it, to feel a tiny baby miracle kicking.”

He didn’t say it, but you began to understand the part of possessiveness. The touch he didn’t withdraw an inch once he was able to reach for you freely. Something he was denied, now he ripped it away for himself. 

“First she stole the knowledge, then farms and fields.” Nick continued, his voice heavy with ice cold anger. “Came with fancy lawyers and bulldozers, chasing my family away from the scrap of land and the mounds of soil that my grandparents brought from Romania.”

You remembered one time your mother mentioned something about the secret being in the soil, a harpy reflection to her smile when she did. 

“My mother’s heart couldn’t take it. My father fled to Romania, finding the only solace in a small square of land where he grew a new hybrid of flowers. Named it after my mother.” 

Nick paused for a moment, his eyes boring into yours. A few breaths and the rage surpassed, leaving the lull of oceanic waves in his eyes. They rocked you as you held his gaze; your body attuning to the pulse of crackling fireplace on a dead cold autumn night that was Nick’s aura. 

“I’m not a gardener myself,” Nick shrugged, easing his free hand up your leg. “But I know how to plow through hard and high grounds. I’ve made myself a different kind of empire, though I always remained respectful of nature and plants, as my parents did.” 

You didn’t even feel him grip you any harder, yet somehow Nick managed to switch your positions in a blink of an eye - pulling you onto his lap. 

One of his hands remained at your throat, thumb gently stroking up and down along your pulsing vein. 

“You’ll be my queen. You’ll give me heirs.” It wasn’t a proposition, but a declaration of decision set in stone. “I’ll give you the freedom and power you so desperately crave.”

“What do you know of my cravings?” You hoped to challenge his confidence, to fight against the tendrils of magnetic pull that weaved around your limbs. 

“I know you turned my way like a plant does seeking the sun,” Nick’s hand slid beneath your dress. “Keeping so close, coming even closer each time, like an addict hopes to lick a single fleck of whatever gets him high.” 

Cool rings pressed into your skin, spiking your heart rate into a paradoxical pasodoble between desire and trepidation. Just like the nights you used your own fingers to the image of Nick fucking you in the night garden. 

“I know each time you thought I was coming to visit, you wore a shorter dress.” His fingers on your thigh inched further up. “This one today? If I met you inside the gardening center and you’d bend over to show me moss arrangements, I’d get a peek of your ass.” 

He did get that peek. 

When he bent you over his bed that night. After having you sign your name on all the legally (illegally too, undoubtedly) binding documents as a paid, stoic-faced registrar officiated your wedding. The ink was deep red, as blood that one spills for the devil. 

Red was also the wine Nick brought to your lips in a crystal glass. The rich, thick taste of it was a bland mist compared to the burning magma of Nick’s lips against yours, molting away the taste of your previous life as he sealed your contract. 

One hand on the nape of your neck, holding you in place as he fed you his sinful tongue, the other buried beneath your sundress. Firm, relentless fingers eliciting tangy, warm rain from between your thighs; watering the soil of the garden filled with plants that you picked. That you loved and Nick provided for you. 

He made you mark the land as yours, as he marked you as his. Your voice an enchanted cry of spell that was Nick’s name. 

Then he took you to the bedroom - the heart of the underworld kingdom. 

Though the dark interior sent a ripple of unease down your spine at first; it was like stepping into a cold, mountain stream after days of hiking in blinding sun. Then the jewel undertones of onyx and cuprite engulfed you. Shimmering black curtains of the canopy parted its wings for you, as Nick led you to the bed. 

You never strayed from dirt, but it only stained your hands and clothes as you worked with soil. The dirt spilling from Nick’s mouth as he took you seemed to twist your body into inhuman arches of pleasure, reshaping your mind so it became greedy for the sizzling impulses his filthy words elicited.

Tightest cunt.

Delicious hole. 

Breedable pussy.

Mine.

Tears trickled down your cheeks - a salty passage from a girly life of obedient silence into empowered if dark womanhood. Briny dew altered into shy sweetness as your moans stretched, tears turning into those of overwhelming pleasure. 

Nick showered you with it. With his tongue and fingers; with his cock that filled you with girth and the precious spent he cursed to take root in your womb. 

He led you like a queen, just like he promised, once you were able to stand on your trembling legs after hours of being both worshiped and owned. A silk robe in a color of a red so dark it might as well be woven from arterial blood floated around your frame as Nick took you into the garden. 

His fingers intertwined with yours. His pace adjusted to yours, not once rushing or slowing you down. 

Focused on admiring the beauty of silvery moonflowers and creamy bells of Angel’s Trumpets, you didn’t notice Nick’s eyes were only on you. 

[howdoyousleep3]

Rating: Explicit (E) Word Count: 4.7K Notable Tags: Dom/Sub AU, Heavy Power Imbalance, Non-Con (from characters other than Steve and in the past, no major detail), Daddy Kink, Age Difference, Sex Trafficking, Human Trafficking, Submissive Auction, Angst With a Happy Ending, Depressive Thoughts, Depressed Bucky Barnes, Slight Stockholm Syndrome, Crying, Subspace, Blowjob, Face Fucking, Orgasm Denial, Cock Cage, Size Kink, Size Difference A/N: This was originally supposed to be published in the last Kinktober I participated in under my Age Difference day. I've only read one story that was in the Dom/Sub AU and I was so taken with it, it's all I thought about as I wrote this. It's a universe where, kind of like Omegaverse, everyone has a designation of Dominant or Submissive. I didn't dive into it too heavily, but I left it totally up for my interpretation so...don't mind me lol. Compared to what I usually write, this one is kind of twisted and dark. Please read the tags and don't continue reading if it makes you uncomfy. ❤️

Read here on Ao3.

The lights in this room are much more dim than the ones in the showcase room they’ve just performed in. He feels the line of his shoulders relax at the sight, be it merely a smidgen, heart still hammering against his rib cage. His limbs continue to tremble unpleasantly, his head pounding, his hole wet and aching to the point of pain. 

He is used to this happening when he’s used without completion, climax other than his own being robbed from him, when he isn’t used for his purpose. He does as they’ve trained him though— he ignores his tender emotions and his body’s biological signs of unfulfilled submission. 

Bucky barely has half the mind to take in his surroundings, to lift his chin and glance around the room he’s quickly being shuffled into. It almost looks like a study, someone’s personal office or library. It’s deceivingly cozy with its maroon walls and moody lighting, a fireplace lit and in use on one end of the room, bookshelves lining the opposite wall. He’s slow to take in the bed in the center of the room, one that seems entirely out of place yet perfect in this setting, large and cloud-like and luxurious. 

The exhaustive ache that Bucky feels deep down to the center of his being yearns to curl up in the center of that bed like a kitten, to not be roused for hours on end. Instead he’s ordered to his knees on the rug next to it, the command settling unpleasantly on the nape of his neck like they always do. 

He looks down at himself, his nude and flushed form, eyes locking onto his hands bound and curled together in his lap, and he wonders how this is where he ended up in life. 

“Listen to me,” the handler tells him, voice unharsh yet still grating, the command one he’s forced to listen to. Bucky’s never enjoyed his designation, has rarely ever been comfortable being a Sub, but these moments are the ones he hates the most. He despises not having a choice, has a special kind of hatred for being commanded against his will, his body listening before his mind can fight against it. But he’s quick to respond, quick to mumble, “Yes, Sir,” because that’s what they’ve spent the last three months training Bucky to do. 

“You no longer belong to us,” the Dominant handler states without emotion, and even given the circumstances, relief kicks up into Bucky’s chest. “Your personal possessions are in this bag, your Dom will handle everything else once your bond is initiated. If it is initiated.” Bucky flinches. “You understand the reputation we hold here and the standards we’ve instilled in you, yes?” 

Bucky bites out another, “Yes, Sir,” before the handler is done moving purposefully around the room, coming to stand in front of Bucky. He doesn’t raise his head, just as he’s been taught.

“Good. I advise you to keep those in mind once you leave this place. You haven’t been the easiest Sub to deal with, James. I’d hate for your Dom to send you back here because you did not meet expectations. He won you fair and square with the highest bid; don’t make him regret that.” 

The severity of the situation Bucky’s been put in, the past few months, hits him in the solar plexus when he hears these words. He isn’t sure why his brain decides to catch up in this moment, why he decides to feel the weight of the past weeks here at the feet of his handler in the very last moment they’ll see each other, but he feels his chest constrict painfully. His hole aches in waves, mouth watering in preparation for what it thinks is coming, desperate, and Bucky bites back his whimper when he feels his dick wish to fill out. 

He never gets what he wants, what he needs, is always left feeling unfulfilled and purposeless. They’ve had to increase his dosage of meds they give him each day as a result of how affected he has become from touch after touch leaving him emptier and emptier. A Sub shouldn’t live like this yet here he is, having been picked up off the streets and trained to be the best of the best on such evil touches. 

He’s going to be so fucked up because of this place. 

Having been put on display in every possible way in the performance room during his shining moment, he wonders if this is the last time he’ll feel so used and hollow. Will his new Dom continue to leave him feeling so empty? Will he make Bucky do things he doesn’t want to do, use him against his will, take advantage of him and his designation? He feels so low in this moment he can’t see anything but that happening, of being owned and living this life of misery. Surely Bucky won’t survive. 

His handler doesn’t even say goodbye, doesn’t acknowledge Bucky as he leaves, and Bucky hates how much that hurts. He’s once again betrayed by his biological needs, betrayed by the intrinsic need to please and to obey, and even given the piss poor treatment they’ve put him through here, Bucky wishes his handler would leave him with more positive words, with the praise he so desperately craves. 

When he hears the door close behind the Dom, he can’t help the whimper that bubbles up and out of his mouth. 

His eyes don’t leave the floor because no one has told him he can raise his head, and even though he no longer belongs to this establishment, he can’t will his inner submissive to look up. Instead, his eyes lock onto the cage around his dick. He despises this thing. Before he was lured in with promises of a warm meal and an even warmer bed he had only heard of cock cages being utilized in either the most severe of relationships or for fun, no in between. He had never worn one until his training. 

He hates it, has tried taking it off on his own multiple times before his harshest of training had set in. He hasn’t come once during his time here, can barely remember what his own climax feels like. 

“Your pleasure no longer belongs to you, James. Your orgasms are not your own; they belong to your Dom.”

It’s ironic yet devastating to Bucky that all of this training, all of this pain, was pointless. Bucky could be a good Sub for someone, he knows it. He could give the right someone all of the things his training had brought out without the misery he’s gone through for these people. He could give his mind, body, and soul easily over to the right person. This line of thinking shifts into the only thing that brought him comfort each night; the only thing that helped him get the little sleep that he did— 

His Daddy. 

Well, hopefully his Daddy. 

If he’s the perfect man for Bucky, he’ll be his Daddy. 

And his knight in shining armor, this perfect Dom, his Daddy, would come one day to take him away from this hell. That’s what he dreamt about each night, that his Dom, strong enough for the both of them, big enough to easily cradle Bucky’s not entirely petite form close to his chest, would whisk him away from this place and give him everything he could ever need. His Dom that can teach him how to cook his favorite meals for him, his Dom that is patient, his Dom that is proud of Bucky. Every night when he needed comfort to sleep, this man would be the comfort Bucky needed to finally rest. 

Bucky wonders what his Dom is going to be like, what he’s going to look like, but most of all Bucky wonders if he is going to like Bucky. Surely he is attracted to Bucky if he got into a bidding war with someone else for Bucky, if he paid damn near a million dollars for Bucky’s bond, for his life. There is a sliver of hope that the highest bidder’s intentions are pure.

Bucky is so exhausted, right down to the bone, that he doesn’t even startle when he hears the door to the room open once more. He doesn’t lift his head, as he’s been taught, but this time he does it because of the onslaught of nerves that wrack his body. This is it, this is his new Dom, the one he’ll have for life, the one whose bond will be initiated tonight. With one last unmated deep breath, Bucky sends a wish out into the universe for his Dom to be kind, for him to show Bucky the love he’s never been given in life, to love Bucky. 

The sound of steady footsteps reach his ears at almost the same moment a sense of calm washes over Bucky’s being. It hits him in waves, drips down his spine like warm honey, a sensation so pleasurable his chest shakes with his caged sob. His nostrils fill with the scents of cinnamon and vanilla and a bonfire deep in the forest. His eyes well up with tears as he continues to look down at his hands, mind racing in disbelief at his body’s immediate reaction to his new Dom, a reaction he’s not experienced before.

Hope begins to seep into Bucky’s limbs as a pair of sleek, black boots come into view.

“James?”

Oh. 

He doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath until his next exhale comes out as a choked sob. Upon hearing that voice the hope in his body bursts, shatters, into something more fierce, something that has him responding with a quiet and thoughtless— 

“Daddy?” 

He doesn’t look up, doesn’t let his eyes leave the floor, those expensive boots. He feels his hands tremble in his lap, can almost hear them do so. He isn’t given enough time to panic about addressing his new Dom by a title that wasn’t approved by him, wasn’t given permission to use, because his Dom is responding confidently. 

“Look at me, please.”

Bucky’s eyelids flutter upon hearing the gentle command in such a soothing, rich voice, and he takes a deep and shaky breath before listening like a good boy…

And immediately begins sobbing in full.

It’s the faceless man from Bucky’s dreams, he’s sure of it. He has kind ocean eyes, an otherworldly physical presence. There’s experience etched into every part of his being, from his graying hair to the wrinkles around his eyes to the calmness that sweeps off of him in waves. He smiles down at Bucky and it makes him feel like he’s the most precious creature on the planet. 

“Oh, my angel…”

This is the man that is going to save his life.

This is his Daddy. 

With his eyesight now blurry because of his tears, he doesn’t see the hand coming down before it cups his chin. There’s a strength in this grip that Bucky knows will soothe him, hold him, love him for the rest of his life. A thumb swipes at his tears, wiping them from his cheek. He can’t remember the last time he felt such comfort from another human being. Even before he was forced into this facility, through all his sexual encounters, gentleness and softness were not things he experienced. He’s almost forgotten what it’s like, to feel a reassuring touch. 

“James,” his Daddy reverently murmurs, stroking his thumb over Bucky’s trembling bottom lip. “Why are you crying, sweetheart?” 

He swallows thickly, his eyes roving over his Daddy’s face, taking a few seconds to selfishly drink the older man in. His body reacts to its Dom’s presence like it knows its Daddy is finally here, its biological needs taking over all other needs, roaring to life within him. Bucky’s eyes fight to cross when he takes in the size of his Dom’s denim-clad thighs, how he fills out his cozy sweater. His Daddy’s so big. He wiggles his hips where he sits, chin in his Daddy’s big hand. 

“I’ve just…I’ve…I’ve been waiting for you for so long,” is what Bucky ends up saying quietly, sniffling, and his Dom’s smile is slow and sweet, like he enjoys Bucky’s answer. 

“I’ve been waiting for you forever, James.” 

Those words feel like pure sunlight.

But Bucky shakes his head without thought, stops himself abruptly after two shakes. He’s reminded then of his handler’s words, that he was a difficult Sub. He can’t take the risk of being anything but the best Sub. He’s already afraid to lose his Daddy; he has to be good. 

But his Dom has caught his defiance. 

“What is it, James?” 

“Nothing, Sir.” 

His Dom doesn’t miss a beat. 

“No, sweetheart— no lies, no holding back, no unspoken feelings. I always want to know what you are thinking, what your feelings are. So tell me, James. What is it?” 

Christ. Bucky can’t help but sniffle again, unable to get his tears under control. His Dom is perfect. 

“B-Bucky,” he mumbles. “I go by Bucky. I don’t…I don’t like James.” 

His Dom’s smile is warm, his fingers that squeeze around Bucky’s chin reassuring. He repeats Bucky’s name, practicing it a few times, each one sending Bucky melting further into his head and surely into the floor. 

“Of course, sweetheart— Bucky. My name is Steve,” he tells him, and Bucky’s insides warm with more of that sunlight Steve is bringing into his life. 

Steve. 

A strong name for a strong man, a name that belongs to a man that gently commands attention. It’s the perfect name, or so Bucky thinks.

“But you can call me Daddy, Bucky.’

That’s the best name, the perfect name. 

Hands still tied together in his lap, dick still in its cage, Bucky turns his head and nuzzles his cheek into his new Daddy’s palm, the warmth and sheer size of it making him lightheaded. It takes him a moment to recognize that this is the beginnings of him going under, of finding that sweet space within. He’d gotten so used to being forced there, his designation being used against him to put him under, that he’d almost forgotten what it was like to be sent there willingly. 

His whimpers seem endless even to his own ears. 

“Look at that,” Steve marvels from his place above Bucky, voice the most soothing of tones, a sensation in and of itself. He allows Bucky to nuzzle his cheek further into his palm, even as Bucky gives into the urge and desire to press kisses to his fingers. Such a forgiving Dom.

“I knew it the moment I laid eyes on you, that you’d be everything I’ve dreamt of having all to myself.”

Bucky sobs. The emotions that one sentence brings him is enough to beg Steve to not go any further. But Bucky is selfish, he is admittedly greedy. He’s been given nothing while being here, before this. He has continuously poured from a deserted and infinitely empty cup and has been given nothing when his heart, his mind, his body demands it, needs it, in order to survive. 

“Your tears,” Steve murmurs, interjecting his own shared line of thinking. “Are they good or bad, Bucky? Please tell me.” 

A request yet a command. A tender one. One Bucky must answer, is finally willing to answer. “Both,” is what he decides to admit. 

“Both?” 

He nods his head within Steve’s grip. “Yes, Daddy. Bad because…because I am sad for my past self. That I was never given a chance to be good and then said chance was forcefully taken away from me.” Before Steve can speak to those words, Bucky quickly continues. “But good because you’re here…you’re finally here. And I…I get to be so g-good for you.” 

Steve’s exhale is heavy, laced with a sound of pleasure that settles over Bucky’s own shoulders and neck. Bucky’s dick strains against its cage, his mind slipping from himself further. 

Steve sticks his thick thumb between Bucky’s lips and Bucky nearly sobs again, hiccuping around where he purses his mouth.

“You are extraordinary,” Steve tells him and Bucky truly believes it given his reverent tone. “The moment you stepped on stage, I knew it. I’ve been coming here for years. Did they tell you that? Years, Bucky.  I’m their hardest client to please, the one they couldn’t wait to be rid of. Money is of no importance, my preferences vague. Kept telling them I’d know when to bid, when the right Sub would be coming home with me.”  

Bucky sucks on Steve’s thumb harder, grateful to have something in his mouth as his Dom showers him with praise. 

“They even told me they’d go out of their way to find someone that fit what I was looking for, that we could forgo an auction altogether. I told them no.”

His Daddy is so powerful. 

Bucky slips further into his head. 

“Never once did I question myself; I knew you were out there. And when you stepped onto that stage with those legs and that mouth and those eyes…oh, kitten— you were made for me.” 

Bucky sways forward, head dizzy with need and relief curling together, tightly wound. Steve wraps his other fingers around Bucky’s chin, holding him steady. 

“And you’re going to be the sweetest, most affectionate boy for me, aren’t you? This is everything we’ve both been waiting for, isn’t it?”

Bucky nods his head frantically, laps at Steve’s thumb and sucks it into the back of his mouth. 

“You’re going to bring us so much joy through your submission, aren’t you? You’re going to bring us the purpose we’ve been craving. Together.” 

Bucky doesn’t know how to communicate that his feelings are terribly overwhelming, that he doesn’t know what to do with himself because of it. The force of his emotions leave his body trembling where he kneels. If Steve’s thumb weren’t in his mouth his teeth would surely be clacking against one another with the force of his tremors. His head spins in less of the dizzy way he’s been experiencing these past weeks and more in a euphoric way he’s always dreamt it could. 

His body already trusts its Daddy, leaning towards him and into his touch, loosening up further and further. The line in his shoulders softens, the tension in his thighs diminishes. Even with Steve’s thumb in his mouth, the tightness no longer residing in his jaw is obvious. 

Even as Bucky spent his nights dreaming of this moment, weeping for this moment, he never imagined it could be this perfect. 

But then Steve is reaching for his belt buckle with his other hand, the button on his black dress pants, and Bucky wonders if he is in fact dreaming. 

“Let Daddy give you something else to suck on, sugar. You look like you need it,” Steve purrs, reaching into his now open dress pants and pulling out his cock. Weeping nearly as much as Bucky has been, Steve’s cock is impossibly thick and deliciously heavy. It has Bucky’s hips wiggling once more, his vision going blurry as he’s presented with his Daddy’s cock for the very first time. He can’t stop the onslaught of sniffles and weepy eyes as he reminds himself once more that he’s so goddamn lucky Steve waited for him. 

He opens his mouth as soon as that cock is above him, letting Steve’s thumb pop from between his lips, whining as he does so. He can smell Steve from here, his warm scent with an added muskiness to it that has Bucky unabashedly groaning, tongue out. 

And then Steve pulls his balls out too, and Bucky nearly asks to be pinched. 

“Daddy…” 

“Gimme a kiss, sweetheart. Let Daddy feel that precious mouth.”

The moment the fat head of Steve’s cock lands on his tongue, Bucky feels the closest thing to submissive bliss he’s ever felt. It’s euphoric. The taste of him, this Dom, his Daddy, blooms on his tongue, bursts through his being. The taste of his excitement, his precome, forces another ragged noise from Bucky as he sucks Steve further into his mouth, savoring every inch of him. Steve’s thunderous and drawn out groan feels like a climax to Bucky.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Steve exclaims through an exhale, Bucky barely tethered to the earth. “That’s it. Show Daddy how much you’ve missed him, show him how perfect you are.”

In the three months he’s been here, servicing a Dom has not once felt like this. In his time before this, his time on the streets and beyond, he’s never felt solid within his submissiveness. The stretch of his jaw, the hot slide of velvet wrapped steel on his tongue and down his throat, the feel of Steve’s large fingers sliding through his hair; it all brings him a sense of purpose he’s failed to receive all these years. 

And he can’t help but sob around his mouthful. 

“I knew it, I…fuck, I knew you were made for me, Bucky” Steve tells him, voice full of awe and dripping with lust. “I can’t wait to see how far you drop, how far I can push you. You’re gonna let Daddy push you, aren’t you? You’re gonna let him learn all about you?” 

Bucky confirms Steve’s suspicions with another loud, garbled noise around his cock, one of obvious enthusiasm. He’s dropping hard now, wants to tell his Daddy he’s barely holding on, but then Steve’s hands are moving, holding Bucky’s head in place as he pulls his hips back. 

Using Bucky. 

What little headspace Bucky has left reserved for himself is used to marvel at how easily, how purposefully, it was for Steve to step into this role as his Daddy. 

He’d give Steve the world. 

He’ll give Steve whatever he wants, whenever he wants it, all the time. 

This is his life’s purpose now, being used for his Daddy’s pleasure, serving his Daddy. Being owned by his Daddy.

He’s left with no choice but to cry. 

Bucky opens up his throat as his eyes begin to close, leaning forward on his knees, letting Steve fuck his mouth. With an easy and sharp noise, Bucky immediately knows that Steve wants his eyes open and on him. He does just that, looking up at Steve as he sticks his tongue out obediently, moaning at the fullness of his mouth. 

“That’s it, that’s a good boy,” Steve murmurs, voice melting down Bucky’s spine as Steve’s fingers dig into his hair. “You’re so good, you’re already so good for your Daddy. Look at you, look how much you love sucking on your Daddy’s cock. You perfect baby Sub.”

Bucky’s head grows fuzzier, his dick aching, his core aching. He slurps around Steve’s cock but it does nothing to slow the trail of spit dripping down his chin and sliding towards his neck. Steve is a dream, an absolute dream. Bucky needs a communicator, needs someone who will listen and who will talk to him, especially when it’s filthy. Bucky wants to be talked dirty to, wants to experience that side of sex, especially when it’s praise. Especially when it’s from Steve. 

Without warning, Steve kicks his hips forward, a noise akin to a growl falling from his lips, his fingers tightening in Bucky’s hair. It’s a slip of his obvious control, his inner Dom breaking through, impatient. Bucky meets him full force with his own submission, moaning around his Daddy’s cock, showing him he can take it. 

“Yeah, you know what that is, don’t you? Your Sub knows a Dom when he feels one, doesn’t he?” 

Bucky’s whine is damn near desperate. 

“You know how hard it is for your Dom not to take you right here on this fucking floor, sweetheart? Makes me feel feral, the way I want to make you mine. Mhmm, your Daddy doesn’t want that though. Your Daddy wants to take you home, take you away from this place forever. He wants to treat you right.” 

Bucky swallows around his mouthful.

He can feel Steve’s groan all the way down here, down in his toes.

“Here’s what we’re going to do, sweetheart,” Steve tells him, his hands holding onto both sides of his face. He pulls his cock out of Bucky’s mouth just enough to where Bucky can only suckle on the tip of it given the restraint Steve has put him in. The connection of their eyes, the way Steve looks down at him, strikes a chord deep, deep within Bucky. 

He whimpers as he suckles on the big, swollen head of his Daddy’s cock as he listens. 

“I’m going to give you what you want. I’m going to give you my come, fill your pretty belly with it. I have a hunch that’s going to send you right under, which is perfect. You’re so perfect, angel.”

Bucky whimpers again. 

“And then Daddy’s going to take you home. And when we get home, I’m going to give you a bath and play with your little body until you’re nice and loose and ready to take my big cock.” 

Bucky whimpers again. 

“And then I’m going to fuck your little hole until it sends you right back under, until you come all over my cock, until our bond snaps into place and we finally and officially belong to one another.” 

Oh. 

Bucky sniffles as he lets Steve use his mouth, tears trailing down his cheeks and mixing with the spit smeared on his chin. He wasn’t sure if the person who bought him would want to bond so quickly, if they’d want to bond at all. It’s been implied to him since he got here that he was too difficult of a Sub to become bonded. To hear that Steve wants to take him away from this dreadful place, to their home, in order to bond with him is a dream come true. 

It’s what begins to send him under. 

“That’s it, kitten,” Steve pants, fucking himself impossibly deep into Bucky’s mouth. “That’s it, baby. Oh, I can almost feel you slipping from me. Have you stolen my heart already? Have you tempted my bond already, Bucky?” 

Bucky’s vision begins to grow fuzzy around the edges, his mind pulling in on itself, hypnotized by the drag of Steve’s cock in and out of his mouth. In and out, in and out, in and out. Blessedly not rough, but intense and all-consuming. His jaw nearly aches at the stretch of Steve’s girth and it’s— 

It’s bliss. 

Daddy’s hands in his hair, Daddy’s cock in his mouth, Daddy’s praise in his ear, Daddy’s eyes on his face, Daddy’s come on his tongue. 

“Daddy.” 

“You’re mine now, Bucky. No one is ever going to hurt you, never again. I’ll give you everything you could ever want as a Sub and as a boy. You’ll never wish for anything now that I’m your Daddy,” Steve tells him as he shoots off down Bucky’s throat, hands in Bucky’s hair, petting him as he pumps his hips.

His Daddy’s voice is steady and strong, full of promise and love. And as he kneels there at his Daddy’s feet with Steve’s warm come settling into his belly, his Daddy’s cock still in his slack mouth, Bucky finally, finally lets himself sink.

[dollfaceksj]

I don’t think Yoongi’s gonna get mad tbh

can’t afford love | myg (m) #14

⋆ TAGLIST ⋆

⇠ PREV. ⋆ MASTERLIST ⋆ NEXT ⇢

yoongi simply stares at your phone for a moment before glancing up into your eyes

your heart is beating like crazy

she’s saying baby saenggakajima..

you take your phone from him and avoid his gaze as you go to take a seat next to jun

there’s a funny feeling in your gut but you refuse to acknowledge it

yoongi has no say in who texts you

his privilege has been revoked

you run your hand through jun’s hair and gently rub his cranium

“my pretty boy,” you whisper and kiss his chubby cheeks

he looks so much like his dad

he giggles and squirms under you

“have you been giving daddy a hard time?” you say as you play with the shell of his ear

he shakes his head as he starts eating the gimbap his father prepared for the three of you

“oh, it’s not jun that’s giving daddy a hard time.” yoongi’s voice snaps you out of your trance

makes you glance at him

what’s his deal, for real?

“jealous?” is all you ask

he scoffs as he bites into his gimbap

“are you doing all that to make me jealous?” he asks, still not looking at you

you roll your eyes but also refuse yo look at him. “why would i want you to be jealous? we’re divorced.”

he simply chuckles and shakes his head. “right.”

the fight is over

you can’t seem to let it go, though

“how am i giving you a hard time?” you turn to look at him

he looks at you with a ‘don’t play with me’ look before returning his attention to his food

you scoff. “no response because there’s nothing for you to say.”

bickering like little fuckin kids

he deeply exhales. “you’re actually driving me crazy.”

you turn your attention back to jun and wipe his cheeks a bit

“is it good, baby?” you ask him and he simply nods his head

“daddy is a good cook, right?” you whisper and jun just nods again, clearly just focused on his food

it’s true though, yoongi is a great cook

you eat your gimbap in silence

by the time you’ve finished eating, jun’s already playing with his toys on the floor again

“it’s time for bed.” yoongi picks jun up but jun fights against him, throwing a tantrum

“come here,” you coo and hold your arms out, taking jun from his father’s arms as you cuddle him. “you have to go to sleep, baby. you’ve got daycare tomorrow.”

he eagerly nods and then reaches out to his dad again

little prick

yoongi disappears with jun upstairs and you take it upon yourself to clean the table and do the dishes

you can hear jun still throwing a tantrum and it makes you giggle

thinking about how yoongi looks when hes annoyed

by the time you’ve finished doing the dishes, yoongi is back

stares at you

you stare back as you dry your hands using the towel you just dried the dishes with

he walks up to you, cornering you against the sink

what is he thinking?

what does he want

he simply stands before you, breath fanning over your face

you look up at him

but he says nothing

and you wish you could have that kind of determination but you don’t

you have to speak

and you do

“you know,” you start, “this outfit wasn’t expensive.”

💀💀💀💀

you crazy bitch

he blinks at you for a moment. by the look in his eyes, you know he knows exactly what you’re referring to

“jun’s asleep,” is all he says.

you shrug your shoulders. “i can keep quiet.”

“can you?” he snaps. he leans forwards, placing his hands on the edge, caging your body in between his and the sink. “can you keep quiet? because lately, all you’ve been doing is lie for no damn reason.”

ah

there it is

you glare at him for a moment before shrugging. “i think you like it.”

he blinks a few times in confusion. “what?”

“you like when i lie to you.” your eyes stay stuck to his. “gives you a reason to be rough with me.”

he dryly chuckles, so empty of any hint of humor

“we’re not teenagers anymore, y/n. i don’t ‘need’ a reason to do anything. if i want to turn you around right now and fuck you right here on this sink like i hate you, i don’t need a reason for that.” he never breaks eye contact as he talks. “i don’t need a reason to be rough with you. you can stop lying.”

“i just don’t believe you.” you shrug your shoulders.

well.

you’re a menace

that much has been established

he simply sighs and shakes his head in exasperation. “what am i going to do with you…” he drops his head and leans his forehead against your shoulder

very

intimate

you’re trapped against the sink, with his body barricading you

his head on your shoulder, lips gently grazing your neck

it’s quiet between you two

and you don’t know what possesses you when you ask,

“do you think jun would be confused if he saw us like this?”

oh

silence

uncomfortable silence

yoongi’s still leaning on you

doesn’t say anything

just inhales your scent

you might have put his favorite perfume on

but then yoongi straightens his back to look at you

“confused? maybe. but i don’t think it’s harmful for jun to think his parents love each other. he’ll realize sooner or later.”

ah

‘to think his parents love each other’

“what if we meet someone else?”

at this, a muscle in his jaw jumps

you eyes trail to his lips for a moment before back up to his eyes

he shakes his head. “then he’ll get used to it but it’s not happening. not for me at least.”

you roll your eyes. like yuna didn’t happen yesterday. “you still think taehyung and i are a thing?”

he frowns sternly. “why’s he offering to take photos of you in private?”

you giggle. “he said i should considering modelling. said i wasn’t comfortable in front of the camera.”

he thinks about it for a while. the message has been giving context. he doesn’t seem that annoyed with it anymore. however, he can’t help but say, “still a weird thing to say.”

you pretend to agree as you say, “like saying you’d have fucking ruined your ex wife in some random restroom if her dress didn’t look expensive?”

oop

🫦

however

yoongi ain’t no bitch

“i still stand by it. i’ll do it right here too, doesn’t have to be a random restroom.”

“i’m not ovulating.”

“i know.”

you bring your hand up and push against his chest but there’s no real strength behind it

and he knows

he knows you don’t actually want to push him off

so he simply buries his face in the crook of your neck again

it’s quiet again

his nose nudges against the skin of your neck

you can’t help but squirm a bit

he whispers, “so, what do you say?”

huh

what

what’s going on

what does he want?

oh

Oh.

you gather the courage to whisper back, “what?”

“you gonna let me fuck you or not?”

you swallow to relieve your dry throat

he’s so so close

every hair on your face feels his breath fanning against it

calm down

say something witty

you shrug your shoulders again. “i didn’t come to dinner to have sex.”

he responds, “i didn’t invite you over to have sex either.”

hmmm

as an established liar yourself, you can tell he’s speaking the truth

he slowly looks around, appearing casual. “but it doesn’t hurt to try again when we have the chance, no?”

to be continued

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[xreaderanonaccount]

The last Dance (Pantalone x AFAB!Reader)

It was late, and the masquerade party was almost over. But it doesn’t seem like you would be leaving any time soon. You stood next to Pantalone’s side as he chatted away with some random aristocrat. You were bored out of your mind, these types of parties are never fun. All you do is stand around as Pantalone’s trophy as people completely ignore your existence. Although Pantalone tells you that you are not his trophy it’s really hard to tell when you tried to join the conversation the aristocrats would give you disinterested looks before immediately changing the topic. Your mind wanders off looking around the big bright ball room. The architect was something to marvel at. But it was nothing like the small palace that you and Pantalone share. You internally sighed as you stare out the window, the big maze-like garden beckoning you to explore its beautiful floral. You glanced over at Pantalone who didn’t even glance at you, he just had his hand resting on your lower back. You internally sighed as you looked back out of the window. You notice the giant belltower towering over the maze garden, the time 11:03 p.m.57 more minutes till the masquerade is over.  A small walk outside wouldn’t be bad, would it? If you had your guards with you then surely Pantalone won’t mind. A small scheming smile formed on your face as you spotted your personal guard Afon who was idly watching the two of you. You start to wander off before you feel a sudden grip on your wrist. You look back to see Pantalone staring intently at you. 

“Where are you going my love?” His voice slightly above a whisper, clearly for a one on one conversation. But it was clearly not a one on one as all eyes of the aristocrats were on you. 

“I’m feeling a little stuffy, my dear. I was going to waltz around the maze. That’s all.” You smile as you gently pull your arm back. Pantalone stared at you for a moment, analyzing your face before looking at something behind you. 

“Alright my dear, just take Afon with you.” Pantalone gave a small chuckle before taking your hand again and planting a soft kiss on the back of your hand. You smile as you give a small bow to the rest of the aristocrats before heading over to Afon.

“Afon, may you walk with me through the garden maze?” You smile as you approach Afon who straightens up upon seeing you. 

“Of course madam.” He gave a polite smile as he let you lead the way to the maze. As you walked out to the maze you expected the bitter cold to bite your skin. But to your pleasant surprise instead of the bitter cold, you felt a nice warmth wrapping you up like a soft blanket.  

“I heard the master of this palace had the maze built inside a giant greenhouse,” Afon spoke up, staring up to the white metal cage, “so his wife can take a stroll outside without worrying about the bitter cold of Snezhnaya”. You gasp as you see some of the most beautiful flowers you have ever seen. The array of colors that litter the garden had you in awe. You walked around the garden with Afon close behind admiring each plant that caught your gaze. 

“Do you think if I ask Lord Regrator for something like this he would give it to me?” You smile as you look back at Afon who just laughs.

“Lord Regrator would buy you three Jade Chambers if you so ask.” You laugh along with Afon as you continue your stroll stopping in front of the beautiful fountain. A small sigh escaped your lips as you swayed your body to the soft melody that was leaking out of the open windows. You smile as you imagine you and Pantalone dancing in a beautiful garden. You did a small twirl but tripped on a small pebble, you felt yourself falling backwards, Afon calling your name. You brace yourself for the fall. Yet it never came. 

“My my my lily, you sure are clumsy.” Your eyes shot open, greeted with Pantalone who caught you in his arms. 

“P-Pantalone!” You exclaimed trying to get up trying to readjust your dress. Pantalone chuckled as he watched you fluster over yourself. After you deemed yourself presentable you awkwardly glance over at Pantalone who just gave you a small smile. You glance back at the palace, the soft music comes to its crescendo. Your eyes sparkle as you remember the fantasy you lived through. You hear a soft chuckle before you were swept away by Pantalone. You stare into Pantalone in shock as gave you one of his genuine smiles. He pulled you close to his chest as he led you through the music. Your dress sway through the night, the fabric shining in the moonlight. You close your eyes allowing Pantalone to lead you two through the music. His mossy wood cologne fills your senses, making you feel so safe in his arms. He pulls you away, giving you a little twirl before dipping you down. The music coming to its climatic end. You two stared into each other's eyes, the belltower rang through the cold night sky. Pantalone stares into yours for a moment before leaning down capturing your lips with his. The kiss was soft and tender as he held you tight. Pulling you away he helped you up from the dip, draping his overcoat over your shoulder.

“It’s getting late my dear, let us head back to the Palace. I have some paperwork to finish.” Pantalone whispers into your skin, his breath tickling your ears. 

“Finally, I’ve been bored out of my mind.” You sigh as you dramatically throw yourself onto him. Pantalone chuckled at your antics as he gestured towards Afon who was standing in the shadows. 

“Alright my love, let’s head home.” He smiles, guiding you out of the palace. 

A/N: divider credits: cafekitsune