#also i love seeing how the lace collar is put on!

[clove-pinks]

Watch "HOW TO GET DRESSED IN A 1610S SUIT: The Modern Maker Workroom BASICS" on YouTube

Just a huge fan of this video. Mathew Gnagy begins in his underwear, which is a long shirt similar in construction to early 19th century men's shirts, but even more gigantic, and a pair of drawers which he compares to Venetians (knee breeches c. 1570-1620). He rolls up the shirt beneath the drawers to pad his hips and the effect is amazing. It really looks so good when he completes the ensemble!

I have been reading Phillis and C. Willett Cunnington's Handbook of English Costume in the 17th Century and The History of Underclothes by the same authors. They mention 17th century breeches stuffed with bombast of "horsehair, flock, wool, rags, flax, bran or cotton" to give the desirable silhouette. (Before bombast referred to an inflated vocabulary it referred to inflated pants.) Quoting Benjamin Jonson: "Stay let me see these drums, these kilderkins, these bombard slops, what is it crams them so? Nothing but hair." (The Case is Altered, 1609).

The video is a great demonstration of "trussing the points" i.e. using ribbons or tape ties to attach the breeches and doublet, which held them together and kept the breeches on. After so much lacing and lacing I couldn't help but wonder how the clothes could come off in a timely manner—but he takes the suit off and strips to his underwear to show how quick it is to undress! (Much to consider).

An illustration from Handbook of English Costume in the 17th Century shows that the basic suit-shape is the same at midcentury, but the breeches are now held up by metal rings under the doublet skirt and the ribbon bows peeking out are decorative.

[yuujispinkhair]

Good Boy

Sukuna is a powerful man. Everybody knows him as the successful and arrogant CEO of the SHRINE company. But they don't know that at home, in the bedroom, he is a very different man. Only you know what Sukuna truly needs to be able to function in his stressful job.

Pairing: Sub!Sukuna x Dom!Reader (female) Genre: smut + fluff Word Count: 5.5k Warnings: 18+, smut, BDSM elements, sub+dom dynamic, reader is a soft dom, restraining, collaring, impact play (flogging with a leather paddle), dirty talk, spitting in Sukuna's mouth, praise, edging, Sukuna cums untouched on command, pegging (Sukuna receiving). This is a modern + no-curses AU. Sukuna is a CEO and married to Reader. All things happen with mutual consent. All characters are of age. Minors don't interact. Dividers by @/benkeibear

Sukuna is a powerful man. Successful and feared by many. A big player in the business world. He makes it look easy, makes it look like he can do all of that effortlessly. He keeps up a high pace, coming to work before everyone else and only leaving after the sun has set. Attending business events and giving interviews for magazines while always wearing a smug smirk on his handsome face. Always hiding his true self behind a mask of professionalism and arrogance.

No one is allowed to see behind that mask. With one exception. There is one person who knows how stressed Sukuna truly is. How tired he is. Only one person knows the toll his work takes on him. Only you. Only his wife.

You are the only one who knows that sometimes the powerful CEO needs a break from everything. Only you know that sometimes this big, strong, and powerful man wants to be on his knees for you, bound and collared, needing to hear you call him your good boy before he is able to cum.

Sukuna hadn't known this side of himself for a long time. Maybe it was because he wasn't mature enough in his younger years. Maybe it was because his past relationships never offered him the amount of trust and love that the relationship with you gives him.

But Sukuna still remembers the day that changed everything. The day that made him discover something about himself and about his deepest needs.

He only wanted to take a short trip to your favorite lingerie boutique to buy a little something for you for White Day. A new set of sinfully expensive lingerie that you could wear for him.

It had been a stressful day at work, a meeting with the CEO of a rival company that had left Sukuna pissed off and on the edge. He hoped to find distraction in picking sexy underwear for his beloved wife, picturing you in it, easing his mind with thoughts of fucking you while you wore that pretty red lacey set with the little heart dangling from it.

But things didn't go as Sukuna had planned. His gaze strayed away from the luxurious red lace lingerie and landed on a display of collars. And all of a sudden Sukuna felt conflicted. So damn conflicted.

At that moment, he couldn't tell why the sight of those collars made him feel so strange. He drew his gaze away again and strolled to another corner of the boutique to look at more beautiful lingerie sets. But he couldn't focus. His thoughts stayed occupied with those leather collars. And suddenly, he found that his feet had carried him back to that one display.

He walked past it several times until he sighed and finally stopped in front of it, took one collar out of the shelf, and let it glide through his fingers. The black leather felt nice in his hand, smooth and warm. He tried to picture it on you, but to his utter surprise, he realized that it wasn't you who he wanted to put it on.

Oh. That is interesting.

He gulped.

His large hand trembled slightly when he brought the collar up a bit. He held it in front of his throat, feeling his pulse accelerate at seeing his faint reflection in the glass display.

What if...

He ground his teeth in annoyance when the shop assistant interrupted his moment by walking up to him.

"I see you are also interested in our Playtime Collection, sir. All collars and restraints are of the highest quality, of course. They offer high comfort and long usage. Do you want to pick one for your wife to go with the lingerie? I would recommend a thinner one in that case, more delicate, and maybe in a matching red? We also have some collars with a diamond charm. That collection is very popular for White Day. Should I get it for you?"

Sukuna stood there in silence for several seconds, too stunned to say anything. A rare moment for the CEO of the SHRINE Company. But he was a professional, after all, and so he turned around to smile politely at the shop assistant, his usual mask perfectly in place, as he informed her,

"No, thank you. This one is perfect. Put it in a separate gift box, please."

He left the shop feeling light-headed, and the bag sitting on the passenger seat of his Porsche seemed to emit a seductive lure the whole drive home, making adrenaline pump through Sukuna's veins.

What if she puts that collar on me?

The thought excited him and made him feel ashamed at the same time.

Never had he imagined he would be into this. Wasn't it embarrassing that a man like him even contemplated something like this?

But underneath that shame was something else. Something he craved: Comfort.

He knew what a collar like that meant. I wasn't just a pretty little accessory. It meant giving yourself to someone. It meant a sub giving themselves into their dom's hands fully. And that was a thought that made him grip the steering wheel tighter.

Wouldn't it be lovely? Wouldn't it be exactly what he needed after a hard day like this? Coming home and letting you put a collar on him? Giving himself into your loving hands? Handing control over to you. He loved you with his whole heart and soul. He trusted you like he never thought he could trust someone apart from himself.

Wouldn't it be so comforting to let you collar him and dominate him completely? Wouldn't it be such a relief to let himself fall into you? To hand control over to someone else, at least for a few hours, in the safety of his home?

The thought made a low groan slip from Sukuna's mouth.

He hid the small gift box in the walk-in closet. It sat there next to his designer watches and golden cufflinks, waiting for him to finally propose the idea to you.

When he did, after an exquisite dinner a few days later, you had smiled at him, slipped on his lap, and petted his hair, eyes filled with love and understanding.

"You want me to collar you? You want to be my... submissive?"

"Yes, that's what I want, darling. Only if you are comfortable with the idea."

"Of course I am. It will help you with all the pressure at work. It will help you let go. You know I am always worried about you with all the high stress levels you have day in and day out. I'm glad you came to me with this idea, Sukuna."

He released a breath of relief and tightened his arms around you. Of course, you understood. You always knew exactly what he needed.

Sukuna laughed softly. How funny it was. Here he was, this tall, buff man with a body full of solid muscles and intimidating-looking tattoos, someone who was feared in the whole business world, while you were so soft and small compared to him. But he knew you would catch him. He knew you would be strong, so he could be weak. He knew he wanted to be on his knees for you.

You did research starting that night. You discussed everything with him, set boundaries, and outlined how you both expected this dynamic to work. You went shopping with him the next day, getting everything you needed. You started slowly and tried things, experimenting to see what you both liked and to find out what exactly Sukuna needed.

That was a year ago. Sukuna has been collared for eleven months now, and he has never felt more liberated in his life. The collar grounds him. The collar takes the pressure off.

Sometimes, when he has an extremely stressful day in the office, he takes five minutes off to close his eyes and imagine coming home and getting on his knees for you. Just the thought of you putting his collar on him tonight helps him get through his busy workday. Just the thought of being allowed to get into subspace tonight makes him get through another meeting.

When you are in public, your roles are reversed in everyone else's eyes. Sukuna is the powerful CEO. The big, muscular hunk of a man in his designer suit who is in control at all times. The one with the smug smirk and the snide remarks. The one who effortlessly navigates through this business party and holds an immaculate speech before mingling with the crowd, where he charms new potential business partners into making a deal with him. And you are the sweet little wife on his arm who looks up at him and depends on her rich and dominant husband to take care of her.

They don't know the truth.

They don't know that you told Sukuna before the party that if he is a good boy tonight and manages to get that potential new business partner on his side, you will let him worship your pussy when you are home again.

Sukuna never expected how easy it would be, how natural it would feel to hand over control to you and let himself slip into subspace. How splendid it would feel to give himself fully to you.

He sighs when you bind his wrists with his tie, fixing them behind his back. He feels warm when you tell him to kneel for you. He is excited by the way you look at him when he is on the floor on his knees for you, with his muscular thighs spread, completely naked while you are still dressed. He loves to feel your gaze on his body, on his muscles, on his tattoos. He loves to see the love in your eyes.

Sukuna groans when your gaze lands on his cock, taking your time to look at him. It's so arousingly intimate. You have seen him naked so many times, have seen and touched his cock so often. But it is different when he is bound and kneeling before you. It makes him so hard that he feels dizzy. Pre-cum is running thickly down his hard length as your gaze inspects his cock and his taut full balls.

He moans when you get up from the bed and stand beside him, putting a hand in his pink hair and tugging on it gently, pulling his head against your hip, petting his hair, and cooing at him,

"My pretty boy."

Sukuna can't help but let out a sigh of relief and nuzzle his face gratefully against your hip. He feels exhilarated when you grab his hair and tug on it, smiling while you look at him and tell him,

"Open your mouth for me, my love."

He does so eagerly, opening up and sticking his tongue out while gazing up at you through his long black lashes. He is well-trained and proud of it. Sukuna has always been a fast learner, driven by his ambitious nature. A man used to working for his well-deserved success. Always striving to be the best. Of course, he had excelled in this task, too. In becoming the perfect submissive pet for you.

He can see the approval and adoration in your eyes, and it makes his heart feel so full. Especially when you praise him for his obedience.

"Such a good boy."

Your fingers caress his hair, making him moan lightly when your nails scratch over his undercut, but his mouth stays open, his tongue still sticking out, eyes fixed on your face, waiting for your command or for whatever you have planned for him tonight. Finally, he doesn't have to make decisions anymore. Finally, he can rest and give himself into your loving hands.

You slowly part your lips, which are painted with the beautiful, deep red lipstick he loves so much on you. His lashes flutter in anticipation. Your hand grabs his chin, gently tilting his head further upwards, and then you spit in his waiting mouth, letting your spit drool into his mouth slowly, showing him that from now on, you are the one in control.

"Now swallow it."

He does so, and your hand caresses his cheek lovingly.

"You are so good for me, Sukuna. You truly deserve your collar, baby."

His cock twitches needily when you put it on him, and he feels the smooth leather wrap around his throat. Your fingertips caress his neck lovingly for a moment before you pull away to let your hands slip under your skirt. Sukuna watches with a lust-filled gaze as you pull down your panties, the lacey red ones he gifted to you. You let them fall to the floor as you sit down on the bed, spreading your legs, letting Sukuna see your glistening wet cunt underneath your short skirt.

"You were such a good boy tonight at the party. It's time for your reward."

Sukuna moans softly when you fasten the leash on the golden ring on his collar and give it a firm tug, pulling him closer until he is kneeling between your spread legs.

Your pussy is right in front of his face, hot and dripping wet. So beautiful, so enticing. He can feel your warmth, can smell your sweet scent. He wants to push his face between your legs so badly. But he waits obediently like the good boy he wants to be. He waits for your command.

"Spoil my pussy, pretty boy. Make me cum on that pretty face of yours."

And Sukuna is happy to obey. He eats you out devotedly. He worships your pussy. Licks it, kisses it, sniffs it, loves it with tender kisses and sweet suckles on your swollen clit, and fucks it with his tongue until you gasp his name and cum on his face.

You reach down afterward to tease his cock. Edging him, running a teasing fingertip over his swollen mushroom head and pressing it against his slit. Giving him a few slow pumps only to pull away again. Circling his tip lovingly, swooping up a pearl of pre-cum, and bringing your finger to your lips to taste him, moaning and praising him for how sweet he tastes.

You coo praise at him for being so strong, for being so good for you, for holding back so long. Sukuna's head is spinning. He is drowning in the warmth of your love, in the sweet comfort of your control over him. His cock throbs heavily, so close to busting his load. But your voice drifts to his ears,

"Uh uh, not yet, my love. Not yet. Take your time, baby. You've been working so hard those last few days. I need you to let go fully before you are allowed to cum. Free yourself from everything. Let go of work and your busy schedule. You aren't the CEO of SHRINE here in this room. You are my pet. You are my good boy. I own you, and I decide everything for you. You don't have to think anymore, Sukuna. I will tell you when to cum. Give yourself to me."

And he nods, breathing heavily as his cock throbs with pleasure and need. It would be easy for a strong man like Sukuna to slip out of his restraints and manhandle you, throw you on the bed, and fuck you into the mattress until he is satisfied. That knowledge somehow makes this whole scenario even more arousing. Because he knows he won't give in to these urges. He will be a good boy. He will be strong. He will hold back as long as you want him to. He isn't the one who decides things here. He is yours completely.

You smile at him, and your gaze travels over his body again until it stops on his hard cock.

"Look at that gorgeous cock of yours. So long, so thick, so strong. And all mine."

When you join him on the floor, Sukuna is already a mess, sweating and moaning, cock twitching needily, his balls sticky from all the pre-cum that ran down his length.

You get on your knees and put your small hands on his muscular thighs, caressing them tenderly as you slowly lean closer to blow air onto Sukuna's swollen wet cockhead, making him groan loudly.

"Aww, so cute for me, hm my prince? Can you be my good boy and cum on command? Can you cum just from me looking at your pretty cock?"

Your words make a low growl fall from Sukuna's lips as his balls tighten and his cock twitches. He gulps and looks at you, maroon eyes burning into yours as he nods,

"Yes, please let me show you how good I can be for you."

You smile and moan softly, your eyes clouded over by lust, and it makes Sukuna's stomach flutter and his heart throb. More pre-cum is trickling down his hot length and runs over his taut balls before it drips onto the carpet underneath him. And your eyes are on his cock and his balls, following that small rivulet of pre.

Your voice is a tender caress,

"Such a sweet boy for me."

Sukuna's muscles are taut, biceps flexed, wrists straining against the tie, pecs, and abs taut, his thighs clenched. Your words drive him crazy. And the feeling of your eyes on him, on his cock, makes his head spin.

There is something so demeaning about kneeling here on the floor, bound and horny, being told to cum on command, being told to cum untouched like some pathetic little virgin who never fucked his load into a woman.

But oh, how he loves it. How it gives him peace. How it turns him on. Sukuna can't help but roll his hips as if fucking into your tight cunt, rutting his cock against nothing, as a shaky moan falls from his lips.

Your hand cups his cheek and caresses it lovingly before it wanders down over his flexed pecs and biceps.

"You are so beautiful. Look at that pretty cock. Look how much you're leaking all over yourself."

His gaze travels down to his cock, and he groans loudly, seeing his angry dark pink, swollen cockhead, messy from all the precum. He feels and sees his cock twitch at the attention, so aroused that you are looking at him. And he feels his balls tightening, feels his thighs spread even more, and he knows he is close, so fucking close.

It's your voice that sends him over the edge,

"Now show me, baby. Show me how that pretty cock cums for me. Make a big mess all over yourself, Kuna. Cum for me. Now."

White hot lights fill his vision as he feels himself cum, cock twitching and shooting his hot cum all over himself in messy white ropes.

The sounds coming out of his mouth are sounds Sukuna would never let anyone else hear. Desperate whimpers and needy mewls, a shaky sob when his cock throbs and shoots another spurt of hot cum all over the carpet and his thighs.

You talk him through it, coo at him, praise him for being such a good boy, telling him how pretty he looks and how pretty his cock is when it shoots cum everywhere. How cute he is when he makes such a mess for you.

And Sukuna's head is spinning. He shoots his whole orgasm all over himself until his spent cock just twitches, but no cum comes out anymore.

He still moans when you make him clean it up, swooping up his cum from his abs and chest and feeding it to him from your fingers. And more moans fall from Sukuna's lips when you tug on his leash to make him lean down and lick his milky cum off the floor. He does so obediently, and when you tell him to open his mouth and stick his tongue out to show you that he really was a good boy and swallowed it all, he can't help but smile proudly.

He is happy, so happy when you praise him and when you take the tie of his wrists and hug him lovingly, praising him for being so good for you.

He feels pride surge through him, filling his every pore. Sukuna is a proud man through and through in all aspects of his life. Confident and self-assured, even arrogant most of the time. But nothing fills him with so much pride as this. Cumming untouched at your command.

This is his biggest accomplishment today. Not that he succeeded in snatching a lucrative business deal from the white-haired Gojo brat. Not that he poached one of the Zenin Group's most important partners. No, his biggest accomplishment today was that he was a good boy for you. The thing Sukuna is the most proud of is cumming exactly how you told him to.

He smiles proudly as he looks up at you. You smile back at him and run a hand through his hair, cocking your head and asking in a voice full of love,

"What do good boys say?"

And Sukuna's smile grows even bigger, and he says loud and clear in his smooth, velvety voice,

"Thank you."

His heart feels so full when you nod, and your eyes fill with pride. You pet him and lean down to kiss him on the lips. Lovingly and tender, showering him with affection.

Sukuna thinks no one in his small circle of people he considers his friends truly knows him. Not even Uraume, who has been his assistant for many years.

No one but you.

You know him. You know what he needs. You know what he needs on the days he comes home with a victorious glint in his eyes. You know what he needs when he comes home tired and stressed. And you also know what he needs when he comes home in a grumpy mood, complaining about work and all the incompetent fools he has to deal with all day.

"What's with that attitude, Sukuna? I think I have to put you in your place again."

Yes, you know exactly what he needs. He told you he wants you to be rougher with him whenever he is in one of those foul moods. That he wants you to rein him in on those days. Because you are the only person who can do that.

Your words instantly shut him up, and he feels himself already slipping into his submissive role as he smirks at you across the table and tells you in his low, velvety voice,

"I would be delighted if you showed me my place, my love."

Soon, his smirk is replaced by soft groans as Sukuna writhes on the bed.

Finally, he is free. He doesn't have to think but can only feel. He can let himself fall into this delicious mix of pain and pleasure, and you catch him with your love.

He is used to being in control. He is used to being a powerful man in his everyday work life. He is used to being a King, so to speak. But not here, not in your bedroom during a scene. Here you reign. Here you are, his Queen, and he is the obedient prince. A beloved, pretty pet.

You trail the leather paddle slowly over his skin. Just a teasing touch, a light caress, tracing his firm muscles while you admire his tall, muscular body spread out for you. Sukuna is breathing heavily, arousal and excited anticipation filling his veins. His cock is rock hard, trapped under his heavy body, pressing against the silky sensation of the bedsheets. Every inch of his skin is highly sensitive right now.

He knows the sweet pain will come any moment now. It makes him heady with lust. You have reached the top of his back, slowly trailing the paddle over his neck and the stubble of his undercut before you pull it away.

A loud, needy groan falls from Sukuna's lips at the same time that the loud slapping sound of the leather paddle connecting firmly with his ass cheeks fills the room.

Finally, he is falling. Finally, he is slipping into the sweet, delirious comfort of subspace. Bound to the bed, spread out for you, this tall, muscular man so utterly at your mercy. It is everything Sukuna needs.

Another firm slap lands on his ass, and Sukuna moans into the pillow. It's a feral sound, low and primal. He promised you to not hold back during your scenes, and he found that it's freeing to let it all out and be loud in bed and let you hear his unrestrained lust.

And your praise makes it even better. A soft hand lands on his firm ass cheek where you just spanked him a moment ago. Such a tender, soothing touch in stark contrast to the hard slap and the sting of the paddle. You caress his ass tenderly while you whisper to him,

"You are my good boy, Kuna. Doing so well for me. Are you ready for the next round? I'll do five this time. Do you think you can take it, baby?"

He nods,

"Yes, please. I'm ready. Please give me more."

It was never as easy and natural for him to beg as here in your bed.

Sukuna takes the spanking like the good boy that he is. He moans and growls and begs for more. And you spank him to an orgasm that makes him almost black out. With his buff muscles tensing up, his toned arms pulling at the restraints as his strong body shakes and trembles, his cock twitching beneath him, soaking the bed sheets with his hot cum, while he sobs into the pillow, a mix of your name and breathless thank yous.

You give him time before you untie him and tell him to turn on his back, joining him on the bed to spoil his cock with slow, thorough strokes until he is hard again and moaning and twitching. You finally straddle his lap and sink down on his throbbing length, riding him until you scream his name and cum on him with your warm cream gushing over him, pushing Sukuna over the edge, too, letting him fill your sweet cunt with his cum as a reward for being so good for you.

It's the end of a particularly stressful week, and Sukuna finds himself unable to relax. The book he wanted to read lies forgotten on the leather couch. He couldn't focus on the words. The hot bath he took didn't help him relax his tense muscles.

But then he hears the sound of the elevator followed by your footsteps as you walk into the penthouse, and he feels his skin tingle.

He is by your side only seconds later, wrapping his arms around you from behind, greeting you with a loving kiss on the neck and a murmured,

"I missed you, darling."

He has been looking forward to this Saturday evening. Has been craving it, knowing what he will get tonight because he worked so hard this week.

"Is my sweet prince ready to get all the stress fucked out of him?"

It's the ultimate level of submission in Sukuna's eyes. And the ultimate comfort.

Yes, Sukuna can be sweet. Yes, he can be submissive. Yes, he can be a good boy. And he proves it to you right there on the bed in a position that is so vulnerable but so freeing.

His face is resting on the dark red silk pillow, his thick muscular thighs are spread, exposing himself to you fully.

His cock is swollen, throbbing hard, pre-cum oozing needily out of his slit and running down his veiny length and into the silk sheets. His balls almost ache from how taut they are. Anytime you are about to peg him, he is so hard that he thinks he will faint.

But the feeling of the leather collar around his neck grounds him and gives him reassurance.

Sukuna groans softly when your hands trail slowly over his muscular back, caressing him, massaging his tense muscles, your voice so sweet and soothing while your lips trail kisses down his back,

"You are doing so well for me, baby. So beautiful."

Your praise makes his cock twitch, and a low groan spills from his lips. You finger him open, taking your sweet time with him, lubing his tight hole up thoroughly, gradually adding more fingers, and leaving gentle kisses on his back. Cooing at him when your fingertips rub against his prostate and needy moans fall from Sukuna's lips.

You pull away, but only to straddle the back of his thighs, leaning down over him to tease him with the slicked-up tip of the strap you are wearing. Rubbing lightly against Sukuna's lubed-up hole, driving him crazy, making him moan and whimper, sounds that he usually would never make. Your warm breath caresses his neck, and your lips brush tenderly over his skin,

"Are you ready for me, baby? Can my prince take my cock?"

His hole clenches at your words, his hips buck.

"Yes, please fuck me."

Sukuna almost can't take it anymore, head spinning from lust, sobs escaping his lips as he forces himself to hold back and not take but only receive as you keep teasing his lubed-up entrance with the tip of your strap, slowly stretching him open around the thick tip.

He gasps loudly when you push the dildo into him fully, his ass twitching around it, even as Sukuna's gasp turns into a hoarse groan.

"So cute. Such a good boy for me."

You sound breathless too, and a moment later, you roll your hips into him, beginning with a slow but deep pace, fucking Sukuna with deep strokes that make both of you moan.

Soon, the pace becomes faster and harder, the tip of the dildo hitting Sukuna's sensitive prostate unrelentingly, making him see stars.

A wild, loud moan falls from his lips, uncontrolled, desperate, full of lust and pain and raw need.

He needs this today. This was a stressful week. He needs to get fucked rough. Needs to get dicked down hard. Needs to get wrecked.

And you give him everything he needs. You fuck him with punishing hard thrusts, torturing his prostate with your thick strap, making Sukuna's body tremble beneath you, making him sob and whine into the pillow, the pillowcase wet from his spit and even some tears.

Instinctively, he begins to rut against the mattress, grinding his leaking cock needily against it. But a firm slap lands on his right ass cheek.

"Stop that. Good boys don't need their cocks rubbed. And you are a good boy, Sukuna, aren't you? You are my very, very good boy, right baby? A good boy like you cums just from my strap, right?"

He nods wildly, sobbing as he answers you, his voice almost unrecognizable, higher than usual, full of tears and raw need,

"Y.. yes! Yes, I am your good boy! Please, please...let me cum on your cock! I won't disobey!"

You moan softly at his plea. Your warm hands run up his muscular back, caressing him, every touch making his cock throb. And you go slow, so slow, pulling the dildo out of him almost completely, making Sukuna whine loudly. But he instantly shuts up when you tug on his leash. He grits his teeth and forces himself to stay still, giving himself to you, waiting for you patiently.

Anything to be a good boy for you. Not demanding anything, not taking anything. That isn't his place, and he knows it. He is here to receive. To give himself to you completely. He forces himself to calm his breathing, relaxing his flexed muscles, and you reward him with a whispered,

"Aww, yes, just like that, baby. So good for me. I trained you so well, hm? Now take it, baby."

And you roll your hips into him, pushing the thick dildo back all the way into Sukuna's tight ass, making him moan, loud and broken, as his strong body shudders under you.

You laugh softly and grind your hips against him, rotating them slowly, rubbing the dildo against his prostate, sending shock wave after shock wave of bliss through him. And Sukuna cries out, unable to hold back. But no words are leaving his lips. At this point, he is unable to form them, only loud, unintelligible, needy cries and whiny moans.

He knows he won't last long now, can already feel the familiar tightening in his heavy balls, can feel the pressure inside him build almost unbearably. His muscles flex again, and you moan his name, full of love, followed by the command he needed to hear so badly,

"Aww, yes, Kuna. You're so good for me. You can cum on my cock now, baby."

And he does. Crying out loudly, a wet, unrestrained, desperate sound full of tears of bliss. His ass clenches hard around your strap, his strong body shuddering from wave after wave of a world-shattering prostate orgasm ripping through him. His cock pulses copious amounts of hot sticky seed onto the already stained sheets. Testament to the bliss he found here.

You lean down to kiss his neck gently, trailing tender kisses all over his broad back, fucking him slowly through his orgasm, moaning when you cum on the strap, too, just a few seconds later.

Sukuna closes his eyes and feels some hot tears slip out of the corners of his eyes as you snuggle against him, resting on his broad back, the dildo still buried deeply inside him, and you caress him, cuddle him, and whisper sweet praise to him, telling him how much you love him. And he knows he is in heaven here with you. No matter how stressful his life as a CEO is, he can endure it because he can come home to you and let you take care of him.

To everyone else, Sukuna is the feared alpha male. But to you, he is your good boy, and that's a fact that can get him through any workday.

He will continue to expand his business empire. He will acquire new business partners. He will go to countless meetings and negotiate contract after contract. Sukuna will work hard to make his company the best in the whole country.

But only if he knows he can be on his knees for you every night with the leather collar around his neck and your fingers petting his hair while you call him your good boy. Only when every Saturday he is allowed to cum on your strap.

His success is just as much your success. Because without you, Sukuna couldn't be the man he needs to be.

This was the first time I wrote submissive Sukuna, and it was so much fun!! IT WAS SO EXHILARATING TO WRITE THIS FIC!! Thank you so much to the sweet anon who sent me the ask about my thoughts on sub!Sukuna. He is SUCH a good boy ;) I want to hear him whimper and sob so bad!!

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed it.

Comments and reblogs would be very sweet.

[norrisleclercf1]

My Obsession

Pairing: Obsessive/Protective!Pierre Gasly x Innocent!Reader

Rating: R

Words: 4.3K

Warnings: Fluff, SMUT, reader is touched by male that is not approved (sex*al as**alt male touches reader & reader does say no just wanted to be careful and tag it) , physical violence, possessive behavior, obsessive pierre, toxic relationship, hand collar, p in v, oral (f receiving) spanking, fingering, rough sex, dirty talk, good girl is used, Pierre refuses to let the reader go, I'm sure there is more

Requested: Yes/No

A/N: Please…please….this is not a healthy relationship and you need to be careful of this, in no way am I romanticizing this, just…read to many dark romance books since I’ve been sick, so enjoy my little fantasy that is so not healthy. Also this is for all the readers who love the dark romance plot as I do, just be careful peeps this isn't cute in real life. PLEASE PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN RISK IF YOU UNDER 18 AND READ THIS, YOU REALLY SHOULDN'T BUT I'M NOT YOUR PARENT

As you lay in his bed, the clock down the hall chimes with a soft ding. Pierre should've been here already, but he wasn't. It's a hot summer night in France. Sighing, you throw the soft duvet back and pad to the terrace and open the doors. Pierre's French apartment was gorgeous; the Eiffel Tower was near his place, and you could watch the lights dance like stars.

His bedroom was white with splashes of color. His windows are lined with gorgeous pure white silk curtains that flow like water in the wind. The soft breeze cools your skin, but the heat is still clinging to your skin.

Looking down at Pierre's shirt, you unbutton it and shrug it onto a black armchair. You moan at the breeze hitting your bare skin, helping you cool down from the brutal warmth. Laying back down in his bed, you can get comfortable watching the curtains flow and the old clock ding, coaxing you to sleep.

Soft curses pass Pierre's mouth as he shoves open his front door. The smell of smoke and alcohol clings to his skin, but the hint of his cologne moves between the 2 scents. Cracking his neck, he looks around, ready to turn on a light, but stops. He notices your favorite sandals and purse lying on the couch, a smile tugging to his lips.

What was happening between you two was a puzzle. It was a puzzle where the pieces looked like they'd fit, but they didn't. You were the piece that clicked into place, but Pierre was the one that didn't work but still forced himself into your life.

People always said you were the sunshine, while Pierre was a storm that appeared from nowhere. When he first met you, he loved how you were so sweet and innocent, like a fragile flower. Everyone told you to avoid Pierre, but you couldn't help how he sucked you into his world. You didn't see the signs, how obsessed Pierre was with you, wanting to control everything about you. He wanted to put you in a cage and never let you go.

"Mon rayon de soleil?" (my ray of sunshine) He whispers, not sure if you are still awake. Seeing the time on the clock, you should be dead asleep.

Stepping into the bedroom, he stops seeing you on his bed, asleep and naked.

On your back, soft breaths leave your chest, moving up and down. Pierre licks his lips, watching your breasts move with your breathing. A breeze sends the curtains up, but you whine at the soft breeze ghosting your skin.

Pierre steps forward and sits down on the bed, fingers barely touching you as they follow the curves of your body. You move closer to the touch forcing Pierre to freeze, not wanting to wake you. Your body betrays you as sleep leaves, forcing you to blink and adjust before seeing Pierre watching you.

"Pierre?" Voice laced with sleep, sitting up slowly. Pierre moves, wrapping you up with the covers. Anger was bubbling to the surface when anyone could look through their windows and see what was his.

"It's me. Why are you sleeping-" "Naked?" You finish taking in his appearance. Pierre's hair was messy, his clothes crumpled, and you could smell the alcohol and smoke.

"Yes, anyone could see you. Did you stand on the terrace like that?" He growls, but you giggle, not seeing the possessive nature of his question.

"Yes, it's hot, and it felt good." You explain. Pierre wanted to be angry, but your innocence extinguished that quickly.

"Do that ever again, and your ass will be bruised and red. Understand?" Pierre asks, his grip on the sheets knuckle white.

A soft smile covers your face, leaning forward and kissing his lips. The slight tinge of alcohol coats your tongue before pulling back and nibbling on his bottom lip. Pierre drops the cover, arms yanking you into his lap and putting you into his chest.

"You're mine. Yes?" He asks, biting your neck, making you squirm and whine as Pierre pulls away, licking the bite mark.

"Yes, I'm yours." You assure him, hands tangling in his hair as he lays you down, trapping you between the bed and him.

"Take a shower first." You whisper, running your hands over him.

"Take one with me?" He begs, kissing down your neck to your breasts, about to suck on one of your tits, but you grab his face pulling him to look at you.

"Pierre, you smell like a club. I won't sleep next to you, smelling like that. I want my Pierre. Not the playboy the world gets." Pierre stares at you, seeing the anxiety in your eyes, among others.

"I'm yours." He whispers, slowly pulling himself off you as he walks into the bathroom and closes the door so the light doesn't bother you too much.

He looks in the mirror and sees why you refused him. He looked like his old self, not the one you were falling for. Turning the shower on, he groans at the hot water hitting his skin, relaxing him. The sound of the shower calms you as your eyes get heavy and soon close, having fallen asleep again.

Stepping out of the shower, Pierre sighs in relief, feeling clean and ready to be with you. Walking out, he stops hearing the familiar soft snores leave your mouth. Grabbing a pair of black boxers, he tugs them on and pulls back the other side of the covers.

He slides in slowly so he doesn't wake you as he lays beside you. With a soft whine, you move close to his body heat, knowing it is him, without waking. Reaching down, Pierre pulls your leg to lay over his waist, pulling you as close as possible, almost melding your two bodies together.

"I love you," He whispers, kissing your forehead. "You'll always be mine. Even when you leave, you're mine."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Waking the next morning, he groans and reaches out for you, only to be met with the cold spot you were supposed to be. Sitting up fast, he looks around the room seeing the terrace doors still open, the sound of a busy workday filtering up.

"Y/n?" He calls, and when he doesn't receive a reply, he bolts out of bed and runs down the hall. He freezes seeing you on the main terrace holding a coffee mug, wearing one of his white linen dress shirts.

"Mon rayon de soleil. Why didn't you answer me?" He snips, catching your attention as you smile up at him.

"I'm sorry, Pierre, I was listening to the people below. Didn't even hear you." Pierre runs his hand through his hair and sits across from you. He's settled after he yanks you into his lap.

"You should answer me when I call for you, babe." You just nod and lean back into his chest, relaxing to his hands running over your body.

"Why are you protective?" The question was soft, almost like it was meant to not be heard. Pierre's hands stop, trying to think of how to answer your question. Leaning forward, he kisses the back of your neck, wrapping around the front and turning you to look at him.

"You're mine. I'm protective of what is mine. I'm protective because the thought of someone taking you or leaving me drives me mad. I do this to protect you from people slamming cameras in my life. I do this for you." He whispers each sentence he moves closer till your mouth to mouth.

"Pierre." You gasp. His other hand had moved down your waist and between his shirt, fingers brushing against your pussy.

"Are you mine?" He asks, fingers slowly spreading you open, his thumb ghosting your clit.

"Mhm." You whine, grinding your hips down to get some pressure, but you get none.

"Words, Y/n. I want to hear you say it." Pierre growls, hand tightening on your throat.

"I'm yours, Pierre. I'll always be yours." You gasp, feeling dizzy from the grip on your throat. Pierre was always careful when it came to holding your throat and where. He never wanted to hurt you and learned how to do this safely and how to give you pleasure from it.

Pierre slams his lips into yours, mouth opening as you moan, feeling his thumb rub your clit in a circle. He groans and pulls away, biting your bottom lip and sucking on it before kissing you again, tongues meshing.

You pull away and moan when Pierre slides two fingers into you and curls them the moment you moan.

"Fuck." You sigh, your head resting on his shoulder, arm wrapped around his neck as you press your back into his chest, riding his fingers.

"That's it, Mon rayon de soleil. Ride my fingers." He groans in your ear, nipping it and pulling before returning to your pussy.

Pierre moves his left arm and wraps it around your waist and has your ass pressed against his crotch and moans in your ear when you grind right on his cock.

"Pierre, deeper." You whimper, cheeks bright red at how you're acting. You rarely did anything like this. It was dangerous to do this where anyone could see or take pictures. Yet, you didn't care.

"Aww, is my little slut needing more, hm? Beg for it." He groans, helping you ride his fingers, trying to get him to touch the spot where you craved him most.

"Pierre, please, please. Fuck I need you. God, I need something, your fingers deeper, your cock, anything, please, Pierre." You cry, eyes burning with tears as your body aches with want.

Pierre moans and stands up, pulling you with him as he stumbles inside, almost falling and landing on a couch, but you find yourselves on the floor in a mess of limbs and furious need.

"Fuck me, please, please I've been so good. I haven't touched myself since you've left. Please." You cry as Pierre nods, ripping his own shirt off. You watch the buttons tear off before you close your eyes crying out when you feel Pierre's tongue on you.

"Still so sweet." He mummers between your legs. You both make eye contact as you watch his tongue move up and down before wrapping his lips around your clit and biting; a broken moan, almost a cry, leaves your mouth.

"Pierre, please." As Pierre moves, you beg, sliding off his boxers and pumping himself several times. Grabbing his cock he runs his tip up and down your lips, watching as he coats his tip and slides into you.

Both of you are left breathless as you whine with the burn of him stretching you. Pierre liked to boast about his size. He was more girth than length, but fuck, he wasn't small by any means. Taking 3 deep breaths, Pierre tries to calm himself down, the way you clamp down on him. He knew it was due to the sudden intrusion and leans down, kissing your cheek.

"I'm sorry, sunshine, it's okay." He whispers, knowing you didn't like him slammed into like this.

"Hurts." You whisper, squirming, trying to get used to him.

"Shhh, it's okay. Take some deep breaths." Doing as he says, he smiles, nodding in approvement, feeling your muscles relax. He groans and moves, but you hiss, and he stops.

"Pierre....." He quiets you by kissing you with new tenderness than the erratic movements of lust from earlier.

"Are you okay? Did I hurt you? Tell me, and I'll pull out, and we can forget about this." He moves to pull away, but you wrap your legs around his waist, trapping him.

"M fine, just warn me next time, yeah?" You ask. Pierre laughs and nods his head in agreement.

"Of course Mon rayon de soleil." The pain subsides, and you rock your hips up, causing Pierre to groan, dropping his head into your shoulder.

"Ready?" He asks, waiting for your confirmation, nodding your head, but he tsks, not liking that.

"Words." He always urges big on using words rather than a movement to make sure you are genuinely okay with this.

"Fuck me, make love to me, show my body that I'm yours. Own me." You moan, Pierre groaning as he bites your neck, marking you as his.

"I'm going to fuck you. Hard. Are you okay with this?" He asks.

"Yes." One word, and Pierre snaps.

Pulling out, he slams back into you as you scream, Pierre slamming in and out of you brutally. Legs wrapped around his waist, you hold on as he fucks you hard, pulling every little noise out of you.

"Fuck Pierre." You cry when his mouth bites your breast, leaving bite marks everywhere. They left an effect, but not enough to cause serious harm.

"Mine, always mine." He groans and lays entirely on you as his hips move quickly, fastly, barely leaving you.

"Should I fill you up with me? Should I leave myself in you, where you can never leave? Pump you full, fuck." He moans and rocks back, pulling you up so he's sitting, and you're on top.

"Ride me." He groans as you nod, getting comfortable resting on his thighs and move, sliding him back into you.

Pierre looks at you and smiles. Skin shiny with sweat, eyes blurry with lust and need, chest heaving with quick breaths. His eyes roll back when you move your hips in a slow circle and then a quick snap forward, teasing. You repeat this a couple times before you start to bounce. His arms pull you close, feeling your heartbeat against his own chest. Pierre watches you bounce up and down, moving fast as you whimper, feeling yourself close.

"Need more?" He asks, seeing the desperation in your eyes as you nod. Moving one arm, he puts it between you both and starts to rub your clit, making you stutter in your movements before regaining your pace and moving faster, chasing your high.

"Close." You gasp and clamp down on Pierre, whose own hips shoot up into you, muscles cramping as his cock twitches inside you.

"Come in me, fuck. Make me yours forever." You whisper. Pierre nods and moves his hips up to meet your pace before you gasp and come when Pierre pinches your clit, sending you over the edge.

Moaning loudly, Pierre holds you down on top of him as you both shake and breathe heavily. You giggle but slump against him as Pierre blinks, trying to clear his head.

"One way to start a day." You whisper, kissing his neck as you try to pull away, but can't muscle too tired.

Pierre smiles, fingers drawing shapes into your back, letting you relax before pulling out of you.

"Don't you have some party tonight?" You ask. Pierre's fingers stiffen and pull away slightly to look at you.

"Yeah, why?" He asks, trying to understand why you're asking. You never cared when he went out to party.

"Can I come with?" You ask and sit up, Pierre biting his lip as you giggle, feeling him twitch inside you. He can't say no, not with you staring at him, practically begging.

"Of course, but." He swallows, thinking of all the dangers and how he'd need you to stay by his side the entire time.

"You are to stay next to me the entire time." He points out, kissing your bottom lip and smiling as you nod.

"Pierre?" Pierre pulls away. "Yes, baby?" He asks, hands rubbing out your muscles, which has your eyes rolling back from how good it feels.

"Can you pull out of me now? I need to shower?" You ask, which has Pierre choking on his laughter as he nods and carefully slides out of you, and you sigh, kinda hating the way you miss him inside you.

"Shower with me?" He asks, a repeat of what he asked you last night. This time you accept.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You smile at your dress. Wearing a black ring-linked cut-out lantern sleeve bodycon dress that was skin tight, showing off your body and barely covering your ass. It was a risky dress to wear out to a club, but Pierre's friends would be there. Pierre would be there, so you knew you'd be safe to wear this out.

Pierre rounds the corner and freezes in his spot. All he could see was some guy grabbing your ass and him breaking his face. Taking a deep breath, he pushes away the thought and walks up behind you as you apply your lipstick.

"Look at you, so gorgeous and ready to ruin." He whispers, making you laugh as he spins you around, thinking of ways to ruin your lipstick.

Kissing you? Fucking your mouth? Having you choke around his cock, while he pulls your hair and calls you a good girl? So many ways to ruin it and so little time.

"Don't, Pierre. We have to leave soon." You groan and turn back around, placing the finished touches.

"Take them off." He smirks, watching you raise your eyebrow in confusion.

"Take what off?" You ask, unsure of his intentions.

"Your underwear. Take them off. I want to have easy access to your pussy, tonight." Pierre leans against the door, watching you as you think the idea over.

"If I bend over in this dress so much, everyone will see what's yours." Seeing his eyes darken and smirk replaced by a scowl, you smile, having not thought of that.

"Do that, and I'll pin you to the bed and whip your ass until it's bleeding." Pushing off the door, he smacks your ass hard, making you jump and bite your lip to stop the moan from escaping.

Pierre was sweet and wonderful to you, but he also had that domineering, controlling side that made you unsure if this was a healthy relationship. Being with him meant standing in the middle of a hurricane and being unable to move as the eye of the storm engulfed you. A part of you knew that Pierre wasn't healthy for you. But the other part of you craved that controlling nature and over-possessiveness. For some reason, it made you feel loved and wanted that he felt that for you. It wasn't suitable for either of you the way you were going. Yet, you couldn't leave one another.

Looking in the mirror, you swallow and reach down, pulling your thong off slowly and step out of them. You look back in the mirror, gain the courage, and walk out, heading to your purse. Pierre sits on the couch, and the moment you step out, his eyes are on you, watching your every movement.

You smile, wanting to rile him up. You bend straight down, which has Pierre about break his phone in half when he gets an eye full of your ass and pussy. You gasp when you feel his black jeans press right into you, almost knocking you over. Standing up, Pierre kisses your neck, teasing you.

"Are you still sore, my good girl?" He asks, not wanting to push you too far or hurt you.

"Mhm." You whine, feeling a slight burn that has Pierre stepping back.

"Okay, let's get going." Opening the door, he grabs your hand and pulls you into the Parisian nightlife.

You don't remember much until you are pulled into a nightclub with sweaty, drunk, messy people as they dance and drink. Pierre pulls you into his side and holds you close as he yells loudly, greeting his friends. You don't miss how one of his friends stares at you, licking his lips and smirking. You give the friend a shy smile and press yourself deeper into Pierre's side. Pierre looks down at you and kisses your head, keeping you close. For the first few hours, you have no problem until you head to the bar.

"I'm going for a drink; want anything?" You yell in Pierre's ear, the music so loud you have to shout for him to hear you.

"No! Want me to come with you?" He yells back, but you shake your head no. As you climb over his friends, you swear you feel someone touch your upper thigh as you pass, but you shake your head, knowing Pierre's friends wouldn't do that.

Stepping up to the bar, you wait for the bartender to notice you; instead, you feel someone press against you. Turning around, you freeze, seeing it wasn't your boyfriend but the friend from earlier.

"Can I help you?" You shout, but the friend laughs, trapping you between the bar and him.

"How 'bout you and I get out of here, and I test you out, hm?" He asks, hands squeezing your waist.

"Please let me go." You ask, terror settling down in your bones. He was bigger than you, and you didn't know if Pierre could see you.

"Why? We all know Pierre will toss you to the side when he's done with you. So why not warm my bed now?" He asks, pressing closer, and you wince with the harsh smell of his spicy cologne hitting your nose. You wanted Pierre's soft scent and hands touching you, not this person before you.

"Get off me!" You scream and start to thrash, but people ignore you, thinking it's two drunk people fighting. You scream louder when you feel his hand move up and try to get under your dress before he is ripped off you.

All you see is a flash and Pierre bashing his face in. People scream, the music coming to a halt; all you can hear now is bone-breaking as Pierre roars in French before security tears him off. You stagger after them and into the humid night of Paris.

Security shoves past you as you watch Pierre take deep breaths and then look at you. His eyes matched that of a wild animal that was trapped inside a cage.

"Pierre-" You slam your mouth shut when he reaches out and pulls you into his chest, holding you close.

"Fuck, this is my fault. I never should've let you around them. I'm sorry Mon rayon de soleil. God, I'm so sorry." His voice breaks, allowing someone close to you to even let them almost hurt you right before him.

Pierre knew something was wrong when you didn't return or when he saw that bastard eye fuck you, then go after you saying he was getting a new beer before he finished his fresh one. When he saw you scream and that fuckers hands try to get under your dress, he snapped. He wanted to kill him, but that would mean witnesses, and he decided to just beat the fuck out of him instead.

"I'm okay." Your soft voice brings him out of his thoughts as he steps back and pushes your hair out of your face.

"If I ever see him again, I'm ripping his throat out. I never should've- fuck." He groans, seeing the tears in your eyes. "What did that bastard say to you?" he growls, ready to return and land a few more punches.

"Are you going to throw me away?" Pierre feels a wave of new anger hearing you speak those words.

"What?" You sniffle and wipe your eyes, makeup starting to smear as your adrenaline wears off, what just happened and what the person said to you finally hitting you.

"He said I was just warming your bed and that you'd toss me away like trash and that I should move to his bed before you threw me away." You gasp, wiping your eyes quickly, trying to stop the tears.

Pierre grabs you, tilting your chin and forcing you to look at him as tears run down his hand.

"The only way you are leaving me is if I'm dead. And that fucker will lose his tongue when I see him next. I am yours, and you are mine. We're made for one another and damned for life, but we are together. Are we poison to each other? Yes. But no one will ever love you more than me. You're not trash; you're not just warming my bed. You're my fucking queen, mon rayon de soleil, my fucking oxygen. You're doing it for the rest of your life when you lay in my bed. Don't forget that. You're my obsession." Pierre growls before kissing you with such softness you melt. His words were harsh and needy, but his kiss was soft and reassuring.

"Don't leave me." You whimper; Pierre moves to pick you up and hold you close.

"Never." He whispers, knowing he would he'd anywhere you were. He'd always be by your side.

"Take me home?" You ask, making Pierre smile. This was the first time you called his place home.

"Yes, sunshine, we're going home." He whispers, walking down the street and taking you to his place. The entire walk, you cry into his shoulder as Pierre walks into the apartment.

He helps you out of your dress, wipes you down with a warm washcloth, and does your face wash routine. You sniffle and move, wrapping yourself around him after Pierre slides on a soft shirt of his. He walks into his bedroom and lays down with him on top of you, knowing the pressure would help you calm down.

"I love you." You whisper after a few hours. You had calmed down. Fingers tangled in his hair as Pierre sighed, glad you were feeling better.

"I love you too, sunshine." You fall asleep into a soft dream with a smile on your face dreaming of you and Pierre, damned for eternity with the madness inside you both, not caring if you were poison for one another. He was your fallen angel; you were the angel he was dragging down, and you didn't care if you were damned. You were his.

[scarlethexelove]

hey! lemme just say first that I love your Agatha fics, it's so on character <3 I read your fic the other night and I can't stop thinking about it. Is there part 2 for 'Why are you here'? If there will be, I was thinking if you could put how Reader went to Agatha's house that night and she (Agatha) fulfilled her promise to her by fucking her in different positions until she's overstimulated. and then she breeds her full of her cum just because she's possessive :D

You Came

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x Maximoff!Reader

Word Count: 2238

Warnings: Smut, Legal age gap, Dom!Agatha, Sub!Reader, Enchanted Strap, Cum Strap, Breeding, Degrading, Possessive!Agatha, Blow Jobs, Rough sex, Dark!Agatha at the end, Overstimulation, Dacryphilia, Slight bondage, Squirting, Marking.

Pt 1, Pt 3

A/n: I had enjoyment of writing this. Of course while writing I had the thought of Agatha having darker ulterior motives but like she still wants Reader either way. Just a bit of a motivation to have them.

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN

The window squeaks as it slides open. You grimace at the noise hoping that no one heard you. The darkness and silence around you leads you to let out a breath that you didn’t know you were holding. You carefully climb out the window, your foot catching on the window seal before you face plant into the ground. Your hands going out trying to catch you but failing miserably. “Son of a bitch.” You groan as you get up and dust yourself off. You’re thankful that after the commotion earlier in the day your mom as she profusely apologized used her magic to heal you. She normally never did that but she felt so guilty for being the one to cause you pain that she made an exception. You know she never meant to hurt you so all was forgiven, but now you're sneaking out to meet up with a woman that your mom despises. 

You look around making sure that no one heard you yet again. Sneaking out past the front window. You can see your mom the glow of the tv in the dark room illuminating her sleeping face. You feel bad for sneaking out to meet Agatha but the woman is so enticing. You shake the thoughts away as you make your way next door. 

You raise your hand balling it into a fist ready to knock on the door when it swings open. You gasp in surprise at the much older woman standing in front of you wearing nothing but a lace lingerie set. You frantically look back behind you turning your head in multiple directions scared someone will see. Your head whips back to the woman a smirk on her lips as her hand is planted on the edge of the door. “What the fuck do you think your doing?” You whisper scream at Agatha. She grabs the collar of your shirt, balling her fist there and pulls you in, shutting the door behind you before pressing you against it. Her hand snaking around your neck and squeezing. “Who do you think you're talking to like that little girl? Hmm did your mother never teach you manners? Don’t worry bunny, I'll teach you.” You can’t help the whimper that slips past your lips. 

Agatha licks her lips. Your wide eyed innocent look is driving her insane. She can’t wait to destroy you. She pushes you down to the ground hard. Your knee’s connecting with the hardwood floors causing you to whimper from the pain. Sure that you will have bruises there later. You look up to the woman confusion crossing your face as a sinister grin spreads across her. Purple swirls around the both of you before a strap appears around her hips slapping you in the face. Your clothes are also gone in an instant. You blush a deep red trying to cover your body but Agatha has no part of that. Your hands are instantly bound behind your back purple magic wrapped around them tightly. 

Arousal starts to coat your thighs as Agatha takes her strap in her hand, jerking it a bit and moaning before slapping it against your cheek a few times. “I want you to suck my cock. Put that dirty mouth to good use.” You open your mouth to talk back but instead Agatha shoves her strap down your throat causing you to gag. When she moans it that is when you realize that the strap is enchanted. You can feel it pulsing in your throat as you look up at the woman with tears in your eyes. 

Agatha’s hand cups your cheek wiping away the tears that fall. “So pretty when you cry.” She thrust the strap in and out of your throat. Her hand moving from your cheek up to your hair. Gripping harshly and pulling you all the way down on her cock. Your gags fill the room as more tears fall down your face. She leaves you there for what seems like forever before pulling you off. You cough, catching your breath. But she only gives you a short amount of time before she is back to fucking your throat with her strap. The only sounds in the room are of your gags and her moans. “Fuck if your throat feels like this I can’t wait to fuck your pussy.” She groans her hips already become more erratic the longer she thrust. 

Arousal drips out of you, your thighs coated as it slowly drips to the floor. Your mind is already turning to mush as the woman uses you. Her hips are jerking and you think she is about to cum but then her hips come to a stop. Pulling you off of her and pulling you up by your hair. You whimper as your scalp stings her grip tight. You’re soon face to face with the woman but not for long. She waves the restraints away and pushes you back against the door. Her hands moving to the back of your thighs signaling for you to jump. You do as she wants she catches you as you wrap your legs around her waist and she pushes you further into the door. Your chest slightly heaving as your still trying to catch your breath from the brutal throat fucking. 

“God, you're already dripping all over me. Are you so much of a whore that fucking your throat gets you off?” Agatha’s words are condescending. “I-” She cuts you off as she thrust her strap into your waiting hole. You let out a loud moan as she sheaths herself in you. “Mmm fuck.” You groan, your head falling back on the door. She starts a hard and face pace pounding into you. Your mind goes blank as the only thoughts in your head are of her. Her name is already falling from your lips like a chant. 

You hate how embarrassingly fast she is building you up. Perfectly angeling her hips hitting that spot deep inside you as her fingers dig into your hips. Her lips move to meet your neck leaving her mark behind as she pounds into you. You know you will be covered by the end of this. Nipping and sucking along her neck and chest. “Please.” You whimper out the only word your brain can form. “Please what bunny?” She smirks against your skin. She knows exactly what you want but why not toy with you a little more. 

You struggle to find the words. Her hips jackhammering into you erratically and you can tell she is just as close as you are with your walls clamping around her tightly. “Pl-please wanna cum.” You have more tears in your eyes. You try and look down at the woman begging with your tear stained face. Your arms wrapped around her back as your nails dig in leaving angry red lines in their wake. 

“Cum with me.” Agatha pecks your lips. With a few more thrust her hips stutter and you can feel a warm sticky fluid filling you up. You cry out as it triggers your own orgasm. Coating her strap in your juices as she continues to fuck into you. But she doesn’t stop there she continues to pound into you intent on keeping her promise to show you just how much she can make you cum. “Oh fuck!” You gasp. Her hips continue to drill into you faster if that was even possible. 

Agatha kissing your neck and mumbling against your skin. “This pretty little pussy is mine. No one can have you. No one can touch you, not even you. You understand me, little girl?” She grunts with every thrust. You shake your head, pleasure clouding your mind as your second orgasm nears. “I’m going to fill this pussy over and over again. All mine.” She is like an animal claiming her prey as she bites down hard on your neck. You cry out in a mix of pleasure and pain. Your orgasm unexpectedly washing over you as you cum again all over her strap. Your body arching, pressing your chest against hers as your legs shake around her waist. If she wasn’t holding you against the door you know you would be on the floor. She moans, feeling you cum again following soon after. “Mine. My little breeding bitch.” Her fingers dug in more.

You expect Agatha to slow down but she doesn’t. She continues her pace. You’ve lost count of how many orgasms you have had. Your neck and chest marked with reddish purple marks, bruises forming on your hips and thighs and she relentlessly fucks you. Your cheeks are tear stained and you’ve become a drooling whimpering mess. She fills you up again but this time when you’ve come down her hips still leaning her forehead against your shoulder. Both of you panting heavily and bodies glistening with sweat. You have no idea how she is still holding you up like this but you're too dumbed down to really care. 

When your breathing finally evens out a bit she shifts causing you to whimper. You're so overstimulated as the strap still buried inside of you moves. “Too much.” More tears stream down your face. But you can see a flicker of desire and that primal need to fill you once again. 

Agatha carries you over to the back of the couch. Her strap slips out, making you whimper more. She places you down and your legs would have given out if it weren’t for her hold on your waist. She quickly turns you around pushing your upper body over the back of the couch. “No more.” You whimper out. “Come on, bunny, just one more for me. I need to make sure you're full of me.” Her fingers trace your red puffy pussy all of your combined juices leaking out down your legs. You squirm at her actions. Your body is telling you no but your mind is begging for more. Just like she knew you would. “Okay.” Your weak voice comes out. 

That is all Agatha needs to shove her strap back into your hole. Still somehow so tight even after all the orgasms she has pulled out of you. She pulls your hands behind your back holding onto your wrist using them as leverage to pound into you. You’re both so sensitive that your orgasms are building quickly. She leans over still rutting into you and whispers in your ear. “What would mommy dearest think seeing her little girl getting fucked into oblivion but her enemy. What if I get you pregnant with my child? Poor mommy would be so mad, wouldn’t she?” Your mind reels at her words you love your mom more than anything and would never want to do anything to hurt her. But in this moment you feel so good and fucked out that all you can do is nod. 

Agatha darkly chuckles as she stands back up her hips already jerking as she comes close to filling you up again. If her spell works right you will be pregnant with her child by the end of the night. She will get her revenge on Wanda and destroy her perfect little family. Smirking at the thought of how your mother will react when she finds out you're pregnant and when she finds out just who the other parent is. Her thrust becomes rougher and digging her nails into the skin of your wrist. Her plan unfolding perfectly with as she fucks into you. So pretty and perfect the perfect puzzle piece to her plan. But even after this she thinks she will keep you. You're too perfect and pliable to let go to waist on some stupid girl. 

Agatha’s free hand reaches under your body, snaking her fingers down to your swollen clit. Pressing into it hard and pinching. You cry out form her actions but you push back none the less, helping to fuck yourself back on her strap. The pleasure is borderline painful as you become way too overstimulated. You can’t hold out much longer as Agatha toys with your clit pounding into your soaked pussy. A mix of whimpers and moans leaving your lips as grunts leave Agatha’s. 

All at once your body shakes under her. Your walls are squeezing her strap tight as you cum hard. Squirting everywhere making a mess of yourself and Agatha. She moans as your cum squirts out of you, vigorously pounding into you and circling your clit until she is emptying her load into you. Black spots start to invade your vision as Agatha rides you both through your highs. Soon the spots expand and your vision goes black and your body goes limp under her. Agatha slows to a stop before pulling out of your still spasming hole. Taking a minute to admire the cum leaking out of your gaping hole. 

Agatha picks up your limp body moving around the couch and laying you down. With a flick of her wrist you're cleaned up and so is she. She leaves your form naked admiring her handy work. She leans down next to your sleeping body. Placing her hand gently on your stomach, magic flowing through her fingers. She smiles when she feels it. Her plan worked. You’re pregnant with her child. She leans down kissing your head as her thumb rubs gently over your stomach. You’re now hers forever. 

[readychilledwine]

Pet Play

✨️Kink Education with Elizabeth✨️

If you like total power play exchanges, welcome to the world of Pets.

Pet Play is a type of power exchange, typically a total power exchange, between a dom and sub. Your dom in these situations typically falls into 1 of 4 categories: owner, master, trainer, or alpha-pet. There are a variety of different roles the subs can take, but the most common are puppy play, kitten play, bunny play, or horse play, and each type of pet play tends to lead to different forms kink mix ins, how play is handled, and what role the dom falls into.

In pet play, a variety of kinks can be mixed in, such as bondage, degradation/humiliation, punishment, praise, and reward. It also isn't uncommon to see food play, breath play, and collar and leashing (a kink we will dive deeper into with Hunt) as well. Pets will have a variety of outfits based on their moods, from full latex hound masks to something as simple as a pair of bunny ears, subs get to decide how deep into play they are before handing over their submission.

One consistent with pet play from everyone I've asked in the community is tails and ears, especially in bunny play, which won the poll post. Bunny play is known to be a gentle form of pet play typically done with a submissive who enjoys praise, cuddles, and more of a gentle interaction but enjoys being "fucked stupid like a dumb little bunny." And let me tell ya, hearing that come out of the doms mouth has me sweating.

I hope any of you who partake in pet play enjoy this fic, and those of you who don't still enjoy Eris and reader banging it out. This is a type of play I've always found interesting but never tried, so I did a lot of digging and talking to my friends and people in the BDSM community who do partake

💕Peep the Valentines Day List Here💕

As always, NSFW below the cut

Eris Vanserra x Reader

Warnings - degradation and de.... defaeitazation of reader, reader sleeps in a cage, bondage, tailplug, smut

The growl that left Eris was primal and dark as he made eye contact with you. You sat in your little cage on your calves, wiggling with anticipation. "Did you get out and get dressed all pretty for me, baby?" You only smiled waiting for him to open the gate and let you out despite the fact that you could, and clearly had.

During his meeting with his father, you changed out of the pink lace babydoll you had been wearing and into a tight white corset with white lace panties and stockings. You had put in your bunny ears after curling and putting your hair in low pigtails. Eris knew there was a fluffy little tail waiting for him in those crotchless panties.

This was his favorite bunny outfit you owned. You wore it on nights when you knew Eris needed two things:

1) a submissive sweet little bunny to love and cuddle.

2) a sweet little bunny who loved nothing more than himself cock pounding into her until she couldn't think.

He picked up the collar and leash, bending his knees to be eye level with you, and opened the gate. He secured the collar around you, kissing you gently before standing and walking. You stayed on all fours, following him while looking up to him and waiting for commands. Eris settling into the sofa, coiling the leash around his hand a few times before yanking you between his legs.

His cock was already straining and leaking in his pants. Your submission alone was enough for Eris, but the outfit, the trust in him, that really got the heir.

He felt you kissing and mouthing at his pants, already aching for him. "Gods, you are a desperate little thing, aren't you? My sweet little bunny with not a single thought in her head but my cock, isn't that right?"

He took your chin in his hand, forcing you to nod while he smirked. "The big question is, do I pamper my little bunny tonight, or fuck her?" You didn't let the whine escape, continuing to look at him with wide desperate eyes. He chuckled darkly. "You should have thought about it harder when you agreed to no noises or speaking until I gave permission, huh?"

You didn't nod, blinking twice at him and wiggling again. You were shamelessly and completely soaked, mind falling into that pretty petspace as you waited for play to begin.

He began unlacing his pants, pulling them down enough for his waiting cock to spring free. He yanked the leash again, forcing your face against his length. "Well? Go head, bunny. Master doesn't have all night."

You wasted no time. You ran your tongue up his length before taking it into your mouth. Eris used the leash to guide your speed as you bobbed up and down, sucking and licking as you went. You smiled when he released a loud groan, head falling back to the couch and relaxed. You began using a hand to work what wasn't in your mouth, pumping and twisting in time.

You could taste his precum, causing a soft whine to leave your throat and your thighs to press together for friction. Eris looked down at you through his lashes before putting his leg between your thighs. "That's all you get until I say so, bunny. If you want to get off, there's your treat for being good."

It would have been more humiliating as you rolled your hips along his boot and shin, relishing in that much needed stimulation, but you couldn't find it in you to feel shame. Eris was moaning above you again, sighing in bliss as you picked up pace, needing more of his taste in your mouth.

You had soaked through his pants, moaning softly as you brought both of you closer and closer to the edge. He pulled your mouth down onto him all the way unexpectedly and came, releasing into your mouth for a few moments before pushing you back and working his cock to shoot the rest of his cum onto your tits and face.

He leaned back again, looking between you and his leg slightly annoyed. "Did I say stop, sweet little bunny? Get yourself off on my leg, and I will consider fucking you." You leaned back slightly, using your hands to brace yourself a little more and feeling that leash pulling taunt.

The angle you were at gave Eris a better view of your puffy glistening folds as you continued riding on his boot and lower leg. He switched the angle of his boot, forcing your clit to be in constant contact with him as he watched you move faster and faster. Moans and whimpers were constantly leaving your mouth, making his length hard all over again. "Cum," the command was gentle. "Been such a good girl. Need you to cum."

A desperate cry left your throat, head tilted back as you came. You continued to ride him through the high, soothing yourself as could. Eris stood, lifting you once you were finished before walking up to the bed. "Y/n," you broke character at the name, looking up at him. "I won't last long tonight. I've been pent up thinking about this all day."

You smiled at your mate, kissing him before bending over the mattress and allowing him to secure your ankles to the spreader bar that was built into the frame. "Me too, Eris. Missed you all day."

"I know. I felt it." Flames came tying around your wrists and pulling to ensure you could not move away. Eris ran his cock through your folds once, twice, and then pushed home, a needy noise escaping you as he did.

Eris began slamming into you. Hands holding your ass so he could admire your little tail. The plug had your walls feeling tighter than normal. Doubling the pleasure of each drag for both of you.

He opened the bond completely, the constant flow of pleasure sending shockwave after shockwave through you until you were no more than a drooling mess. "Fucked my sweet bunny dumb already I see." His voice was airy, strained with soft moans mixing in. He was so close, and you were too.

He reangled you, arching your back more to ensure he was brushing your gspot with each movement. At the same time, a hand went to your swollen bundle of nerves, making you scream in surprise and pleasure. "I know you have another one in there," he grumbled more to himself than you. "Cum little bunny. Cum on master's cock."

One more harsh thrust has you seeing star light and flames dancing in your vision as you came. Eris's name was a mantra on your lips, tumbling through them over and over. The squeezing of your walls on his length had him following behind you, sloppy deep movements ensuring not a drop of his cum was wasted.

The fire and spreader bar disappeared, allowing you and Eris to fall forward and completely into the plush mattress. You both laid there, deep breaths panting in and out as you did.

No words passed as he began to care for you, unlacing the corset, removing the ears and plug, getting you comfortable and naked before moving you both to the bathroom.

"Such a good bunny," he praised as you fell asleep in his arms. "And all mine," he whispered to himself. "My beautiful sweet little bunny."

General tag list:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered

@cumuluscranium

Valentines Day Taglist:

@sfhsgrad-blog @amara-moonlight @eternallyelvish @novaksangel @teenageeggscissorslawyer @thisblogisaboutabook @amygdtjhddzvb

@justasillylittlegoofyguy @avajustreads

@littlestw01f @azriels-shadowsinger @acourtofladydeath

[obessedwithfictionalmen]

I'll come pick it up after pt.7

John Egan X Female! Reader

Sumarry: Their first night alone in London. Bucky is eager for more than just dancing...

Waring: +18/ smut/ p in v/ oral sex (female reciving)/ unprotected sex (wrap it up kids!)/ Swearing/ alcohol/ historical inaccuracies/ use of sir/ use of y/n/ fingering/

Word count: 2.5k

A/n: First time writing smut, please give me feedback. Love y'all :)

Egan was driving his Jeep; his nurse was beside him. He was driving with one hand; the other was on the nurse’s thigh. ‘’I still can’t believe that you got Buck to testify for me’’ she laughed, looking at her pilot. ‘’My darling needed a break, and I couldn’t resist the opportunity to have you for all alone with me. No mission, no injured soldiers, just the two of us’’ he said, gently tapping her thigh as a sign of excitement. She laughed and kissed his cheek.

When they arrived in London, Egan looked for a hotel to get checked in. Like a gentleman, he took the luggage, they went up to their room and start to unpack. Bucky was excited for this weekend, he was in a room, alone with no possible interruption. When unpacking her things, Y/n took out a piece of lingerie. She didn’t own any, so it’s probably one of the nurses that put it there. She saw a piece of paper with something written on it.

Dear Y/n don’t hate me, I thought it might be a good idea to give you this. Bucky sure will like it. Have fun, Daisy.

‘’Damn you, Daisy’’ she muttered. The lingerie was beautiful, it was a baby blue one piece, it was really short and would clearly show her butt. It had pink lace at the bra piece of it. It was also in satin, it was beautiful, and she was sure Bucky would like it. She put it in one of the drawers before Bucky would see it. She’d had packed dress and all her things except her nurses’ uniforms. ‘’What do you want to do tonight, darling?’’ he asked. ‘’Go out, drink, dance, have fun’’ she said, laying down on the bed. He laid on top of her. ‘’Have fun, uh?’’ he kissed her, they haven’t made love yet. This week, they were both busy, a few stolen kisses here and there, but she was ready, she wanted him.

She finished getting ready for tonight, she was wearing a black blouse, short sleeves and a forest green skirt. She didn’t want to put on a dress, and she definitely didn’t want to put on heels. She put on black flat shoes, they were beautiful, it showed the top of her foot, but not too much, it had a strap at the top, to make sure her the shoe didn’t flew off her foot. Her hair was down, and she had put on the lipstick that Bucky was so crazy about. Her plan was clear, drink, to get confidence, flirt with Bucky and finally, have sex with him. When she got out of the bathroom, Bucky couldn’t believe his eyes, she was beautiful. She was always beautiful. She put on the lipstick to tease him, she knew it, and he knew it. ‘’Beautiful, like always, darling’’ he complimented her. She was blushing, Bucky was in his uniform, that was all he had. But he looked good, like always. She went closer to him and fixed his collar. ‘’You are very handsome’’ she kissed him. When he went to kiss her back, she stopped him with a finger on his lips. ‘’You’ll ruin my lipstick, Bucky’’ she teased. Before he could answer, she added another finger on his lips. ‘’I’ll kiss you later, maybe I’ll even mark you up, like you wanted me too’’ she flirted. ‘’Why not now?’’ he asked trying to kiss her, she pushed him back on the bed. ‘’Later, Bucky, I want to dance with you, and I want a glass a whiskey’’ she laughed. He smiled and got up the bed. ‘’Whiskey, uh?’’ ‘’Told you, Major, I’m full of surprises, and I don’t have to work tomorrow’’ she smiled.

They didn’t know how much they both drank, but it was enough to boost their confidence. They were dancing together, mostly kissing, but still. Y/n was teasing him, her hips were glued to his and she moved them to a slow rhythm in her head. The main objective was to tease him, and it worked. His hands were all over her body, touching her, teasing her. He was breathing in her ear, he discovered this week, that this sport was sensitive for her, so he decided to use it. ‘’Still not convinced to let me ruin that lipstick?’’ he said, with his dark husky voice. ‘’You’re starting to convince me’’ she purred. ‘’Let’s get out of here, darling’’ he said as she nodded. The walk back to the hotel was kind of a blur for the both of them, the important thing was they made it back to their hotel room.

The second the door was closed, Bucky kissed Y/n, it was a passionate kiss, filled with desire and attraction. She was against the door as he was kissing her, he was like a men starved. ‘’C’mon, darling, jump’’ he said, between kissed. She did as she was told, jumping as his hands were on her butt. He walked to the bed, were he gently, laid her on it. He started to take his shirt off, but she sat at the edge of the bed. He was standing in front of her. She started to help him with his buttons, she was faster than him, after all, sometimes she had to open the shirts of men without any scissors. He threw his shirt somewhere in the room. ‘’Let me help you, darling’’ he said, starting to unbutton her shirt. To his big surprise, she wasn’t wearing a bra. ‘’You’re n-not wearing anything underneath, are you?’’ he was flustered, he had been with women, but never one like her. ‘’I’m on vacation, I don’t wear a bra when I’m on vacation’’ she teased him. ‘’Get back, darling’’ she moved back on the bed, to let him have space. He almost crawled to her; he was starved. He had her for himself, and he wasn’t going to let anything ruined the moment. He started to unbutton her skirt and she wiggled her way out of it. ‘’You’re breathtaking’’ he said, admiring her body. She was only in her panties in front of him, normally she would’ve been intimidated, but she trusted him. She looked at him, impatient for him. She needed him. ‘’Come here, Major’’ she said, he kissed her, again, with passion. It was raw, it was what they needed.

To Bucky’s surprise, she took control, she switched the position, so she was on top. On his lap, she felt him getting hard underneath her, it gave her confidence, she was making him hard. She kissed his neck, finding a sweet spot that she sucked a little. Leaving her mark on the men. Her lips felt hot on his skin, but he liked it, he was almost moaning. She started to move her hips, to create friction between the two, friction they desperately needed. ‘’H-hold on, darling, let me get these off’’ he stuttered. Bucky was starstruck, he was usually the one in control, the fact that they were both competitive and want the control was to be certainly interesting. He quickly took his pants off before returning under the nurse. She trailed her hands on his body, his chest and his muscular stomach. She watched as his body was reacting to her touch, when she got close to his boxers, he took her writs in his hands. ‘’Not yet, let me feel good, darling’’ he groaned. He switched the position; she was now on the bed. He went on top of her, to kiss her, he started with her lips, then moved down, kissing each part of her body. He kept placing wet kisses on her body until he reached her lower stomach. Where he placed a gentle kiss, each part of his body was begging him to go faster, to take her right now, but he wanted to take his time. The sleepless night he spent thinking about this moment, he was going to take his time and savour each and every second of it. ‘’Bucky’’ she moaned his name. He looked at her from between her legs, making sure she was okay. ‘’You okay?’’ he breathed out. His hot breath between her thighs makes her buck her hips in impatience. ‘’Yes’’ she breathed out, but it sounded like a moan. ‘’I just want you’’ she admitted. Her honesty turned him on even more. He took her panties off, revealing her fully to him. ’’I haven’t touch you yet, and you’re soaking wet’’ he felt proud, but now, he needed to taste her. The second his tongue was on her, she moaned, she wasn’t a virgin, but it was the first time a man properly took care of her. ‘’Shit, major, you sure know what you doing, ah’’ she moaned as her hands found his curls, pulling them gently. His eyes found hers, she was a goddess, she was beautiful, her legs spread for him. Her hips bucked against his mouth, he decided to enter a finger in her. She was so wet; it was easy for him to enter. Her back arched and another moan was coming from her mouth. ‘’Can you handle it, sweetheart’’ he teased her. She could feel him smirk, he was teasing her, and he was enjoying it. She didn’t answer, he added another finger as he was licking her clit. ‘’I didn’t hear you; can you handle it?’’ The words couldn’t form in her brain. ‘’Use your words, darling’’ she moaned again. He felt her walls clenched around his fingers. ‘’Yes’’ she managed to breath out. ‘’Yes, sir’’ he ordered. Oh, she was going to make him regret being this bossy, but not now, she was enjoying this too much. ‘’Yes, sir’’ she gasped as a not in her stomach was about to burst. Bucky was holding her hips down; they were bucking too much. Then when he moaned against her, she saw stars. The not in her stomach exploded as she moaned his name. ‘’Jesus, Bucky,’’ she moaned.

He took his fingers out and brought them to his lips, he was tasting her. Y/n had never saw anything like that before, she was excited, she was wet, and she needed him. ‘’You taste so fucking good’’ he growled. He looked at her, her face was red, her hair was a mess, she looked perfect. Like an angel coming down form heaven, just for him. ‘’What do you want, darling?’’ he asked as he kissed her again. ‘’I want to touch you, please let me touch you, sir’’ she whimpered. ‘’I’m afraid if you do that, darling, I’m not gonna last long, and I want to be inside of you, is that okay, sweetheart?’’ he said and she nodded, getting rid of his boxers. His length sprung free, Y/n was nervous, he was bigger than the other men she’d been with. When he saw the way she was looking at him, Bucky could’ve faint. She licked her lips, she was nervous, but again, she trusted him. ‘’Lay down, darling.’’ Bucky came on top of her, supporting himself with his arms, his muscles were so big, she’d never seen such a handsome man, he was perfect. She kissed him, she needed to kiss him to help with her impatience. He moaned in her mouth when he felt her grind her hips. She was looking to get some friction. She could taste herself on his tongue. ‘’Are you ready, Y/n’’ her name on his lips sounded so good. ‘’Yes, sir, I’m ready major’’ she said. Her brain couldn’t make a clear sentence, she needed him. He positioned himself at her entrance. ‘’This might hurt.’’ He warned her. ‘’I’ve done it before, it was a while ago, but I’m not a virgin, major’’ she said.

He kissed her as he sunk down into her. He went fully in, not wanting to torture her, but mostly himself. He wasn’t going to last long. He waited a little bit, to let her adjust to his size. ‘’Oh lord, you’re so big’’ she cried. ‘’Darling, you’re too sweet for my ego’’ he joked. She laughed and was able to relax a little bit more. She gave him a nod, indicating him that he could move. When he did, he had to think about something to distract him, he was about to come, already, but he had a reputation to maintain. ‘’Tell me about your grandmother.’’ He grunted. ‘’Right now?’’ she was confused. ‘’Yup, because you feel so fucking good, shit so where did your grandma lived?’’ He stopped his movements, not wanting to risk coming too fast. Y/n chuckled. ‘’You sure you can handle it, major?’’ she teased. Something in Bucky’s eyes changed, she had woken the beast up. She smirked, proud of herself. When he had calmed down a little, Bucky started to move again. He rolled his hips so he could be deeper inside of her. She threw her head back as she moaned something that sounded like his name. She kissed the sweet spot on his neck, making him roll his eyes. He quickened his pace when he felt her clench around him. One of her hands came down to her pussy, she began to touch her clit. ‘’N-no one would b-believe me if I told them h-how dirty you are’’ he breathed out. He kissed her again, they were breathless. Her thigh was shaking. ‘’That’s it, come for me, darling, come on’’ he praised her. That’s what she needed for her orgasm to crash down on her. Her climax triggered his and they came together, saying the other’s name as they did. He collapsed on top of her, her hands finding his hair to play with his curls. ‘’That was- ‘’ ‘’amazing’’ she finished his sentence. He chuckled. They were both catching their breath and recovering from what they just did. He was the fastest to recover, he took his length out of her and put his boxers back on. ‘’Just stay there, I’ll go get a tissue’’ he said, going into the bathroom.

Her brain was slowly starting to work again, her throat was dry, she needed a drink. Before she could move, Bucky came out of the bathroom with a tissue. ‘’I’m gonna clean you up, darling’’ he said before kneeling in front of her. He took the time to clean her, she’d never had this type of intimacy before, she could get used to it. When she was all cleaned, Bucky took a new pair of panties from her drawer, but before closing it, he saw a piece of lingerie. Like a 12-year-old, he was grinning and chuckling. ‘’Darling, what’s this?’’ he held it up while laughing. She put her hands in her face to hide her blush. ‘’That’s Daisy’s idea. I didn’t even know she put it there.’’ She laughed. He put it back in the drawer, still smiling. ‘’You gonna wear it for me?’’ he teased. She clicked her tongue in her teeth and took her new panties from his hands. ‘’Maybe’’ she laughed. They both smiled at each other before she got up, even if she wasn’t sure if her legs were gonna be able to support her. She put her panties on, before almost falling. Bucky held her, grinning. ‘’I got you, darling’’ he said, proud of himself for making her like this. ‘’Do we have anything to drink?’’ she asked. He looked at the bottle of alcohol he had brought with him, and then looked at her again. ‘’Maybe water, my head is going to hurt so much tomorrow’’ she said. He went to get her a glass of water and came back, sitting on the bed. She drank the liquid and laid in the bed. He laid next to her, opening his arm for her to cuddle with him. Her hand was now resting on his chest. ‘’Thank you, for everything’’ she said. ‘’For the orgasms?’’ he teased. She snorted and rolled her eyes. ‘’Yes, but mainly, thank you for getting me that weekend pass, I needed it’’ she said. ‘’That’s why I pleaded with the Corporal’’ he said. He kissed the top of her head as she was slowly falling asleep, him too.

Part 8⬇️

[kaiapaia]

i just wanna put my hands on you

Pairing: Jing Yuan/Reader

WC: 2,643

Content warnings: smut. no pronouns used for the reader but they are described as having breasts and a vagina.

i have a note on my phone that i keep open at night because i'll have ideas as i'm falling asleep that i'll forget in the morning. this was one of them. the note just said 'jing yuan fingers you in his office chair.' enjoy.

title taken from Put My Hands On You by DEAN, Anderson .Paak

as usual, minors and ageless blogs dni.

You stretch languidly on the couch, setting your novel down on the table behind you. The sun in the artificial sky outside your window has set, and the stars have come out. Time has truly gotten away from you, and you suspect it has escaped your lover as well. 

Normally, by now Jing Yuan would have emerged from his office in your shared home and flopped himself in your lap to beg for attention, like a big cat wholly unaware of the size of his body. Instead, the door to your lover’s office remains closed, and when you put your ear to the door you hear the rustle of papers followed by a gusty sigh. 

You can picture him, seated at his desk behind the door. You know he’s practically pouting, shuffling through the mounds of paperwork that require his attention. He likes to reserve his time at home to spend with you; both of you lead busy lives and what time you have together is precious to him. 

However, there are some days where he gets distracted. Your lover is a hard worker, dedicated to his job and efficient to a fault, for all that he likes to play the fool. Today must be one of them. You know that by this time he’ll have completed all of the work that needs to be done today, otherwise he would still be at the Seat of Divine Foresight. Jing Yuan doesn’t like bringing his urgent work home. 

He probably needs a distraction, you muse to yourself. It’s more than likely that a complicated matter came up and he got lost in the weeds, reviewing every piece of connected information, no matter how tangential. 

You can’t lie, you’re craving his attention right now too. It’s been a long day and you came home ready to sink into the warm embrace of your loving partner, only to be thwarted by his own dedication to his job, so you can’t find it in yourself to be upset with him. Getting his attention is worth the attempt, though. If he’s truly busy he’ll tell you, with mournful eyes and a loving kiss. 

If he has time and just needs a reminder to pull himself out of work, well then. A smile pulls across your lips as you remember the other times that he’d apologized to you for getting distracted, and a shiver runs down your spine as you feel his phantom touch on you. 

It’s worth an attempt, you decided. To make your intentions clear, you go to your shared bedroom and pull out a nightie that he’d gifted you, a tiny thing made out of deep maroon silk. It’s practically lingerie, an idea supported by the matching panties you slip over your legs before you pull the nightie over your head. The hem just kisses the tops of your thighs, and you smile at your reflection. The only thing left is to pull on the short silk robe that hangs in the closet; Jing Yuan does like to unwrap his gifts.

You knot the tie at your waist, loose enough that he can see the peek of maroon lace under the collar of the robe. Your dear general does also love a tease. Satisfied, you make your way from the bedroom to his office, gently tapping your knuckles against the hardwood door. 

“Come in,” you hear his low voice rumble, and you let yourself in his office, closing the door behind you. Jing Yuan sits behind his desk, still dressed for the day with his hair bound up. He looks remorseful as you approach him, trailing your fingers over the edge of his desk. When you get close enough he gathers you into his arms, pulling you to stand in the space between his spread legs. 

“I’m sorry, my love. Time got away from me today,” he sighs, burying his face into the soft silk that covers your midsection. 

You stroke your hands through his soft hair. “There’s nothing to forgive. I’m not going to fault you for doing your job,” you say, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to the top of his head.

“You are too kind to me, my love,” he breathes against you, voice muffled. He nuzzles his face into you, and you huff out a laugh at his childish behavior. You feel him nudge aside part of your robe, and he smiles against you. “What’s this?” he purrs, pulling back just enough to undo the sash of your robe. It falls open, revealing the silk and lace underneath.

“Pajamas,” you deadpan. You run your hand through his hair, scratching your nails gently against his scalp as he shamelessly admires the way the deep crimson lace frames your decolletage. “It’s late, Jing Yuan. You should come to bed,” you admonish as you slide your hand from his hair to cup the side of his face.

He leans into your touch, turning his head to press his lips to your palm. His golden eyes gleam as he looks up at you over the top of your hand, and you know he’s planning something. You decide to try and beat him to the punch and bait him out of his chair. 

You step back, pulling out of his arms. It’s immediately suspicious that he just lets you go, and you can’t help the thrill of anticipation that shivers down your spine. Affecting an air of disinterest, you turn away, taking a step towards the door. “I’m going to go run a bath. Feel free to join me whenever you finish.”

His arm snakes out, grabbing your wrist. You bite back a grin and let him pull you into his lap, his other arm banding around your waist, pressing you against his chest. “Leaving so soon?” he murmurs, tracing the line of your neck with his nose. 

He brushes his lips in a delicate kiss on the sensitive skin underneath your ear. You sigh and tilt your head to the side, exposing your throat to his attentions. Ever the obliging lover, he trails his lips to the spot where your pulse flutters under your jaw, his tongue tasting your skin for a brief moment before he bites. He’s careful- or perhaps deliberate, biting just hard enough to bring a flush to your skin. That’s going to be difficult to cover in the morning, you muse.

You feel him smirk against the new mark on your throat. He kisses it before he moves on, nipping and sucking a trail down your throat, leaving a swath of marks in his wake. Thinking of all the makeup you’re going to have to use in the morning to cover them, you lift a hand to push his head away. He must sense your intent because he changes tactics, trailing a hand up to grasp at your breast. His palm is large, and you can feel the warmth of his hand and the calluses on his fingers through the thin silk of your nightgown. 

Your fingers sink into his hair, pulling him close instead of pushing him away as he mouths at your collarbone and squeezes  the fat of your tit in his palm. He slides his hand under the lace to pluck at your nipple, as a musician plucks the strings of his favorite instrument. You sigh and arch your back, pressing yourself into the heat of his hand. 

The movement also grinds you down against his lap, where you can feel the growing weight of his erection against your ass. Deliberately, you roll your hips back into it, and you feel him groan against your shoulder. You go to repeat the movement, hoping that it will drive him to do more, when his other arm stills your hips. 

He chuckles into the curve of your neck, one hand still playing with your breast and the other rubbing soothingly at your hip. “Don’t be impatient, I’m going to take care of you.” 

“You had all day to play around, Jing Yuan,” you demand, tugging lightly at his hair. “I want you now.”

“Good things come to those who wait, my love,” he says, pressing a fond kiss to your cheek. He resumes his slow exploration of your body, his large hands moving gently over your skin. One hand glides down to tease at the sensitive skin of your inner thighs.

You spread your legs, inviting him to touch you where you want it most. He obliges, and you almost wish he didn’t as he skates his fingers over the damp gusset of your panties. He runs a finger up and down your covered slit, teasing at your clit through the cloth. 

His movements are deliberate. Whenever you get impatient, he always slows down and teases you until he gets his way, the insufferable man. Jing Yuan has had centuries to cultivate his patience, and it always shows up at the worst times. You know that if you push him further, he’ll just continue to tease, bringing you closer and closer to the edge but never letting you fall. 

So you relax into him, running your fingers through his hair while he does what he pleases. He practically purrs in satisfaction, bringing his fingers up to gently pinch at your clit through your panties. His chest rumbles with a laugh under you at the sound you make, and he presses a kiss to your temple. “You’re so good to me, my love. I suppose I shouldn’t make you wait any longer.”

He slowly slides your panties down your legs, stopping to tuck them in his pocket before he finally puts his hands where you want them. You moan at the first touch of his finger to your clit, throwing your head back to rest against his shoulder. He slides his fingers through your slit, coating them in the slick that’s gathered there before he returns to your clit, rubbing gentle circles on it. 

Each touch stokes the fire in your belly. It had been simmering low while he’d been teasing you, but now that he’s actually touching you it roars to life, sending sparks skittering through your bloodstream. 

You can hear him murmuring soft words into your hair, but you don’t register any of them as he sinks a finger into your hole, continuing to play with your clit. You have a sneaking suspicion that he’s writing his name in the shapes that he traces, but in this moment you can’t bring yourself to care.

You moan as he adds another finger, curling them against the spot inside you that makes you see stars. He nudges your cheek, prompting you to turn your head so he can capture your lips in a kiss. You moan into his mouth as his fingers pick up speed. Gone are the teasing touches; he seems intent on bringing you to your orgasm as fast as possible.

Jing Yuan consumes all of your senses. He’s warm against your back, his lips move hot and heavy against yours, and his fingers are thrusting deep inside you, pounding against the spongy spot in your core that makes your blood sing. You can’t help it, you see the peak of your orgasm approaching and then in the next moment are thrown off it, your back arching as you break away from the kiss in a silent scream.

He works you through it, wringing every drop of pleasure he can from your body as you come down from the high. When you still, he finally withdraws his fingers from your dripping center, bringing them to his lips and sucking them clean with a hum of contentment. 

As you settle into his lap, you can feel his erection. He’s fully hard under you, and you feel the fire in your belly spark to life again. He makes a noise of confusion as you turn in his lap, but you silence him with a kiss. Luckily his chair is big enough that you can plant your knees on either side of his hips, and you roll your hips down to meet his as you settle over him. He moans filthily into your mouth, his arms coming up to wrap around your body.

You reach your hands down to pull at the belts and buckles of his clothes, cursing in the back of your mind that he wears such a complicated outfit. 

“You don’t have to do that, my love-” he starts, breaking away from the kiss. You silence him with a look.

“I want you inside me,” you say. He moans as you wrap your hand around his newly freed cock and stroke him. He’s ready for you, you just take a moment to pay him back for his earlier teasing as you pump him with your hand, paying special attention to the sensitive spot underneath the head. 

Lining him up with your entrance, you sink down on him, and he throws his head back against the chair with a moan as your slick heat envelops him. It’s a torturous few moments as you take him; your lover is big enough that you have to give yourself time to adjust no matter how well prepared you are.

When your hips finally meet his, you moan at the sensation of fullness. He tips his head forward to rest his forehead against yours, and the two of you rest like that for a moment, eyes closed and simply basking in the closeness.

You break away first, shifting on your knees as you prepare to ride him. He leans back in his chair and watches you from heavy lidded eyes, his hands stroking up and down your thighs and waist.

He moans as you lifted and dropped your hips against him, his eyes dropping fully closed as you moved against him. You feel his fingers tightening against your hips as you pick up the pace, grabbing his shoulders for support as you ride him.

His hips move under you, matching your rhythm as he rolls them in time with your hips. He leans forward, taking the opportunity to catch one of your breasts in his mouth. You twine a hand in his hair, and you can’t help the whine that slips out of you as he sucks on one of your sensitive nipples. 

Your thighs quiver, and Jing Yuan takes over, your breast leaving his mouth as he plants his feet and begins thrusting in earnest. You cling to his shoulders as he moves under you, moaning helplessly as he chases his pleasure. 

“Please, I’m so close. I need-” you gasp, pulling one of his hands off your hips and guiding it to your clit. He knows what you mean, and immediately starts rubbing the sensitive nub gently with his thumb. You arch your back and keen as your orgasm washes over you, shuddering in his hold. 

You feel a pulse and then a flood of warmth inside you as he comes, groaning and falling forward to rest his head in the valley between your breasts. You wrap one arm around his shoulders and run your other hand through his hair, both of you panting as you come down from your highs. With a sigh, you press a fond kiss to the top of his head.

He bites gently at the side of your breast and you swat at his shoulder. “You’ve left enough marks.”

He pulls back with an impish grin, tightening his arms around your waist. “You wear them well, my love,” he says, smiling up at you. “I think I’m ready for that bath now, if your offer still stands.” 

You test your legs as you raise yourself up on the chair, not trusting the wobble in your knees as you move. “You’ll have to carry me,” you decide, flopping back down into his lap. 

“Anything for you, my love.”

[huramuna]

wine red, tears gold - chapter 1.

king aegon II x baratheon ofc

a 'what if aegon didn't get poisoned and the greens technically won the dance but at what cost' au. basically aegon, alicent, otto and jaehaera are the only greens alive. and larys i guess. someone get rid of this guy.

word count: 4.6k

aegon wasn't as badly injured from Rook's Rest like in canon in this AU, he has a few burn scars near his torso but wasn't crippled / bedridden.

this is for my 100 followers poll. it was supposed to be a oneshot but will be a mini series in 3 or 4 parts. this is my first time writing aegon and it will also be somewhat of a character study.

thank you for 100 followers and everyone who participated in the poll. love &lt;3 thank you @randomdragonfires for beta reading, mwah mwah.

content: smut (specifics below cut), canon typical misogyny, canon typical violence, angst, fluff, arranged marriage, touch-staved aegon, aegon isn't a r*pist in this au but he is still a bad person and has his vices, ofc and aegon need to go to therapy together, justice for jaehaera, awkward sex, kind of a slow burn

its been so long - the living tombstone • nobody - mitski

chapter specific warnings: awkward sex, p in v, virginity loss

Every day felt like a new restraint, a new button added to the collar choking around Aegon’s neck. He had done it– he had freed the realm of the false queen, his half-sister– and lost almost everything to do so. When did it end? When did he get to relax and run the realm as he saw fit, since they so intended to have them at the helm. He wore the conqueror’s crown, wielded his sword and bore his name and yet he couldn’t do as the conqueror actually did. Rule. He felt more like a dog than a dragon these days; but that was just a pattern in his life. They wanted him when they needed him and he was to shoulder their burdens as eldest son.

His grandsire kept breathing down his neck to secure another wife, another heir, another alliance brokered with another pompous house. 

“Listen to me, Aegon,” Otto began, his fingers laced together as he sat at his desk. He had summoned Aegon to the Tower of the Hand– he was summoning the King, rather than the King summoning him. Somehow, his council had let Otto weasel his way back into the position of Hand, Aegon’s mother in tears, pleading for it. There wasn’t anyone else fit for the job since Criston had died– and he was never really fit for it anyhow. “We must move quickly to provide you with a new wife. The realm won’t remain stable if we tarry in producing an heir for the throne.”

Aegon sat in the seat across from him, feeling more like a child than a King. He twisted the signet ring on his pinky finger. “It’s too soon. It would be an insult to Helaena.” he replied, not looking up at Otto. Helaena had only passed a few moons earlier and the wound was still fresh for all of them. Aegon never loved her like a wife– how could he, they were too different, too young– but he cared deeply for her as his sister and the mother of his children. Even thinking about taking another wife this soon felt like a betrayal. He would be like his father then.

A small huff and a rustling of papers was heard– Aegon was still too distracted by his signet ring, the thin light filtering through the half drawn blinds, causing a small glint off of the bronzed metal. He didn’t want to look up to see the expression on his grandsire’s face, he knew it was one of disappointment. Aegon couldn’t remember the last time that someone hadn’t looked at him with contempt, disappointment, melancholy. 

“You must understand. You have a duty to the realm–” 

“Fucking duty– don’t speak to me of it. I’ve done my duty for enough lifetimes. I let you put me on the throne and usurp my sister and look where that’s gotten us? Everyone is fucking dead, Otto. Jaehaerys, Maelor, Helaena, Aemond,” he paused for a moment, lifting his head up to meet the Hand’s gaze head on, “Rhaenyra, Rhaenys, Jacaerys, Lucerys, Joffrey– do I need to proceed? The majority of our bloodline is wiped out because of you and your ambition.”

Otto snorted, standing up from his desk slowly. He grabbed a decanter of wine, pouring them both a goblet. “You misunderstand. Everything I’ve done has been… for our family’s legacy– for the realm,” he placed the glass stopped back into the carafe, “Don’t you dare act as if I am not hurting for the loss of family– but war is war, boy. People die. It is unfortunate that… the ones close to us did. But we can’t live with our head in the clouds any longer, there is a realm to run and the crown comes with responsibilities. A wife and heir are one of those paramount responsibilities.”

“I have an heir. I still have one remaining child– Jaehaera is my heir. I deem it.” he spoke quickly, staring at the goblet of wine. He had reduced his intake of alcohol since the war ended– but the need for it was always there, always aching. He suddenly felt parched. Giving Otto a haughty stare, he took a sip from the glass, feeling his muscles instantly relax.

“Don’t be daft– have you so quickly forgotten what happened when the King last named a female heir?”

“It wasn’t that Rhaenyra was a woman, Otto. People would’ve learned to adjust if…” Aegon took another sip, clearing his throat, “If she hadn’t been infatuated with her freak of an uncle, you would’ve been able to control her easier, hm? It's always been you and mother behind the crown these past two decades– not me, nor my father.”

“It’s more complicated than that,” Otto griped back, gripping his glass, “Don’t speak of things you know nothing about. Rhaenyra–” he stopped, taking a breath, “Rhaenyra is dead. They’re all dead, you’re right. But there is still the whole of the Seven Kingdoms requiring a leader, especially now. A leader with a united front with a queen and babe. I won’t argue further on this matter.”

Aegon acquiesced. He would rather deal with Otto’s venomous viper tongue talking him into things he didn’t want to do now instead of his mother visiting him hours later in hysterics– he couldn’t bear it. Alicent was more of a mess now than ever. “Fine. I leave this in your very capable hands,” he stood up, swiping the whole jug of wine, “At least find me a pretty one.”

–

She was plain, unbelievably plain. Long, curled brown hair desperately in need of a trim, a poorly tailored dress that needed to be more fitted at the waist, stature too small and unremarkable to stand up to anyone of importance. Oh, and picked cuticles, the spots of red eking out from her nail beds. Mayhaps she and his mother would get along just jolly, then. She was to be his prospective wife and bear him more heirs. He wanted to shove it back in the council’s face and say he has an heir, his only living child, Jaehaera. Melancholy and withdrawn as she was, she was his heir.

The council disagreed, allowing Borros Baratheon to shove his last unwed daughter at him like a piece of meat that no one wanted.

Her eyes wafted up to glance at him, every move of hers uncertain, cautious. She was so deathly aware of each minute gesture, her posture having to be adjusted to straighten every few minutes. 

Lyanna Baratheon wasn’t of prominent knowledge and reputation like her sisters, aptly named ‘the Four Storms’ – she didn’t remind Aegon at all of a stag or a doe, but rather something more diminutive and easily killed, like a prey animal. Mayhaps a rabbit– it would be an apt description, as she had giant eyes, brown –almost black– in their hue, a shiny glaze over them as she stared at the ground. Every so often, their eyes would meet, brown to violet, and she would look apt as Aegon thought she was.

A rabbit begging for its life.

Borros Baratheon stood beside her, murmuring something into her ear. He was a boorish oaf of a man who couldn’t even read– Aegon wasn’t the brightest star in the sky when it came to matters of literature, that’d always been his brother’s realm, but atleast he could fucking read. He thought it quite hysterical that his house sigil was that of a Stag when Lord Borros reminded him more of a boar. Mayhaps he should change it. 

As he continued to whisper to his daughter, her expression went from sordid to panicked, then back to sordid. She wasn’t very good at masking her emotions– she would need to learn if she were to survive at the Keep. The tips of her fingers twitched slightly and she was obviously holding herself back from tearing into her nail beds. 

“Lord Borros,” Aegon broke the tension, “Perhaps I should show your daughter around the gardens while you speak with my grandsire. We have the most beautiful gardens here and I’d imagine that Storm’s End wouldn’t have something quite as grand,” he glazed over Borros’ blank stare, “due to the storms, of course.” 

Lord Baratheon adjusted his doublet, which was far too small for him— did the Stormlands not have a proper fucking tailor? — and nodded, “Yes, that would be amicable. It would do some good to familiarize yourself with one another before the wedding in a week’s time.” 

Aegon’s throat felt parched. He knew that they were speeding things along but he didn’t anticipate it to be this fast. Grabbing a bottle of wine from a nearby servant, he descended back to Lyanna, intent on whisking her away as quickly as possible. Not because he found her particularly interesting, rather the opposite, but he needed an excuse to get out of the room. The insistent thrum of his pulse in his neck was all too loud. His arm looped under Lyanna’s, “Come, my lady,” he hummed, trying to seem like he was somewhat collected and kingly and not on the edge of chugging the entire carafe of wine and smashing it over the next poor fucker’s head. “To the gardens.” 

He practically strung along the poor girl, who hurriedly agreed and tried her best to keep up. “Y-yes, your grace,” she mewled, her feet tapping on the ground at irregular rhythms as she hung onto Aegon’s arm, bouncing against the stone walkway toward the gardens, “King’s Landing is… very beautiful, my king– your subject must be very pleased.”

As they descended the cobbled steps down to the garden, Aegon eyed her warily, “Did your father tell you to say that?”

“N-no, not exactly–” 

“He did. Anyone with half of a brain and a working nose knows that this accursed city smells of shit. You shouldn’t lie, my lady. You’re quite bad at it,” he took a small breath as he looked at her expression– the poor thing was on the verge of tears. “You will get better in time,” he continued with a slightly softer tone, “This Keep is full of great liars and you don’t seem… too much like your father. I am sure you will pick up quickly. How old are you?”

“Nineteen, your grace.” 

Aegon resisted giving a derisive snort, instead uncorking the wine bottle and tossing the stopper into the grass, “You’re quite young, then,” he took a swig, feeling the bitter tasting liquid coat his mouth, “All the better for heirs. Or so I’m sure that we’ve both been told.” 

In truth, some would consider her a bit late in age to be married– but Aegon didn’t care as long as he wasn’t robbing the cradle like his father did to his mother, or Daemon to Rhaenyra. He was twenty-six himself and tried to remember what he was like when he was nineteen; he couldn’t exactly pinpoint an exact memory. It was mostly a blur.

“I am… hopeful to provide you with many healthy heirs, my king,” she replied, her words sounding rehearsed. She is as poor of an actress as she is a liar, then. She paused for a moment, looking at her hands, “I… do not wish to replace the late queen, her grace, Helaena– I merely wish to fulfill my duty to the realm and my family– I am terribly… sorry to hear about Helaena, my king. As well as your prince brothers. War is a terrible thing.”

Aegon blinked profusely a few times. Her words after her pause sounded genuine– mayhaps she is capable of thinking for herself. She seemed… softhearted, even if a bit naive. He regarded the bottle in his hand for a moment, swishing it around. No one had really apologized to him for his losses– the enumerable amount of them he’s gone through these past few years. They all bowed their heads and wouldn’t meet his gaze, as if their blood was all on his hands. Mayhaps it was. He swallowed, his mouth pursed in a thin line, “... War is indeed a terrible thing, my lady.”

They walked for a few hours around the garden, talking about various things. Aegon still found her quite boring and uninteresting to look at– she wasn’t ugly by any means, and could be considered pretty, but she was just so terribly plain that it bored him to tears. Her speech was all faux and he tried to eek out any genuineness to her words through different subjects– all to no avail. It seemed the sore subject of Aegon’s family was the only thing to break her from her carefully crafted script.

Eventually, they parted ways– for the better, he thought. She was a fine match, a fine age, a fine vessel for his seed to produce a royal heir and whatever other innocuous thing his grandsire needed from him. 

What a terribly dreadful life he’s let himself sink into.

That night, he drained two bottles of Dornish Red, falling much into the same state of mind he had when he was nineteen. Wandering to the Street of Silk, he whored and drank himself into a state of sloven mania.

In the midst of his drunken ramblings, he wondered if he could ever find someone who would truly love him or if his opportunity had already passed.

– 

The wedding followed in the timeline that Borros and Otto had set– as quickly as possible. The council dipped into the coffers to make it happen, it was to be an extravagant event, a new beginning for the realm. Artisans, fine bakers and cooks were all hired to make the wedding a facet, stringing up red, green, yellow and black banners, making dozens of delicate pastries and even cooking six turduckens to line the tables.

It was all lavish and opulent– and Lyanna could not feel more out of place. The past week at the Keep had been a whirlwind of planning, gown fittings, flower picking. Her sisters were there in attendance, speaking up more than she on what to pick. It was fine with her, as she couldn’t bring herself to care for it. The gaudiness of it all made her feel ill. 

She had only met with Aegon the one time, the first time. Lyanna felt she made a terrible impression— she was so nervous that day that she’d vomited twice that morning, all while her father screamed at her to get it right, to say exactly as he told her to. For the most part, she had done just that— played the perfect little puppet for him and said all those empty words that meant nothing. 

She was meant to see Aegon at least three more times before the wedding, as there were a few dinners arranged between their two families. He had been absent for all, his mother citing that he was unable to attend for various reasons but nothing overtly specific.

Alicent Hightower was a nice lady— she was warm to Lyanna, talking to her at the dinners when no one else had bothered. She was the person who Lyanna felt most comfortable with in the Keep and was grateful that she was to be her good-mother. Alicent was a bit frayed at the ends from the loss of her other children; she was haunted, her eyes constantly red-rimmed and murmuring prayers under her breath. 

The morning of the wedding, Lyanna was summoned to Alicent’s solar to get ready. 

She knocked on the door, “Your grace— it’s Lyanna.”

“Come in, my dear,” she called out, a maid opening the door to let her in. “How are you feeling this morn?” Alicent was perched on the settee when Lyanna came in, and immediately rushed over to her, taking the young girl’s hands in hers. 

“Quite nervous,” Lyanna responded, her hands quivering ever so slightly, even under the warm touch of Alicent. “May I speak plainly, your grace?” 

“Of course,” she ushered Lyanna to the loveseat and had the maid pour them both tea, then promptly shooed her out. “It’s just us now, speak your mind, sweetling.” 

“I-I am afraid that… Aegon will not like me. I fear I didn’t make a good first impression— he seemed quite bored of me.” 

Alicent took a sip of her tea, giving a small sigh. “I will do you the favor of not sugarcoating words and speak plainly like you have done with me. Aegon will not like you,” she pursed her lips into a thin line, twisting the signet ring on her finger, “Aegon is a creature of debauchery and sin— and you are a good, pious girl. You are like oil and water.” her brown eyes met Lyanna’s, her expression softening. The two women had a fast camaraderie, praying together each morning in the Sept. “You… may not love him, or even like him— but there is a duty upon you to fulfill. It is a burden we carry as women, my dear. We are always behest to the men in our lives,” she stopped, her eyes glazing over with a far-away look, “I don’t mean to be discouraging. You are a… good hearted young woman and I believe you can channel that into something positive as the Queen.” 

Lyanna felt her stomach quivering at Alicent’s words, her skin flushing. “I… appreciate your plain speech, your grace. I just… do not wish to displease him.”

Alicent’s mouth twitched at each end as if she were mulling something over. “It will be hard to please him, my dear. You are nothing like the women that usually please him,” she wiped a hand down her face, “You remind me so much of myself, Lyanna. Pushed into something you are… ill-suited for. You’re a sweet and kindhearted girl and I don’t wish for you to tear yourself apart on the inside and feel as if you’re not good enough for him– you are, you are too good for him, too pure, too-” Alicent took a measured breath, “You are not what he wants and you never will be, my dear. It will do you well to know that now rather than years later. There is always someone else in their eyes– women like you and I do what we can. I pray you will find things that keep you happy.”

Lyanna picked up her tea cup with trembling hands, taking a sip. There seemed to be more to Alicent’s words than them just being about Aegon– but she didn’t want to push it. Dipping her head, she thanked her good-mother-to-be once more.

– 

“Wake up, wake up!” a voice boomed, rousing Aegon from his haze as a carafe of cold water was poured on him. The girl latched to his cock like a leech let out a shrill scream and scrambled away.

“Fucking hell– who the fuck?” Aegon slurred, blinking profusely half a dozen times before his vision came into focus. It was one of the Kingsguard, one more behest to his grandsire than him– and his grandsire, Otto, who had the now empty container of water in hand.

“Wake up, you ingrate,” Otto growled, grabbing his grandson by his collar, hoisting him up onto his feet, smacking his cheek gently. “Your wedding is in two hours and you’re passed out in a whorehouse. You’re the king, for the Seven’s sake– I thought you left this debauchery behind, atleast have your whores at the keep instead of being in these pits of sin.” 

“You can put a number of different hats on a bear, you know,” Aegon slumped against the wall, “Many kinds of hats; a hood, a felted dante, a linen coif, a cowl, a straw hat, a jester’s garb– heh, that’d be quite funny–” 

“Is there a point to your drunken babbling, Aegon?”

“Yes, ah– you can put many types of hats on a bear and change its look but at the end of the day, its still just a fucking bear,” he straightened out his stained tunic, “Point being– you can stick a crown on my head, put a sword in my hand and put me through a war to keep me on that fucking throne but guess what, grandsire, I am still just a bear at the end of the day.”

Otto stared at him, brow furrowed. “You aren’t a bear, you’re a dragon and a king, so act like it. You are getting married in two hours and you look like a sloven mess. You’re lucky that Borros is as blind for power and recognition as he is or he would take his daughter back to Storm’s End and you’ll be stuck with the next best choice.” 

“That boring rube of a girl was my best choice? I must be fucked, then, either way.”

Otto and his Kingsguard dog dragged Aegon back to the keep, and observed while maids scrubbed him clean, red and raw. He was put in a nicely fit green suit, his House cloak strapped to his shoulders. It was a whirlwind of events that led up to the doors of the Sept being opened and Aegon ushered in.

His stomach churned and he felt sixteen again, forced to wed his sister. He remembered being hardly conscious throughout the ceremony, fumbling over his cloak and practically smothering Helaena in it.

He looked down the aisle at Lyanna, who was dressed in a pale yellow dress with long, flowing sleeves. She had a high collar with black lining and antler embroidery all over the garment. It was actually well fitted this time, likely thanks to his mother, and it turned out she actually had a figure, with plush hips and a well-endowed chest. Her brown hair was half up, half down with an assortment of intricate braids– it reminded him of how Rhaenyra used to wear her hair and he wondered who thought to style it like that, and he wondered if he was the only one who noticed.

As he walked down the aisle, he saw his mother in the front row– she was crying, thumbing a pendant in the shape of a Seven Pointed Star. 

The ceremony was a blur to him, as he put the cloak over her shoulders and sealed their union with a kiss– a chaste one. She tasted like lavender tea. As he pulled back, he noticed that her eyes were rimmed with tears, and he felt the familiar sting of tears in his own eyes.

The feast was much the same, as he drank himself into a numbing stupor. He only had one moment of clarity, as some of the rowdy guests began to poke and prod at Lyanna, talking about the bedding ceremony. She looked visibly uncomfortable, picking at her nail beds under the table. Something about the sight of her discomfort and pain stirred something in Aegon that he couldn’t name– maybe he was feeling sentimental from the alcohol, but a surge of possessiveness flowed through him. He wasn’t known to be possessive, much the opposite in fact. But the egregious actions of these men pawing at his wife– their fucking queen, mind them– making disgusting insinuations. If she were a whore, it’d be different– but she was so… innocent, so coerced in all of this just as he was, it felt wrong. 

Aegon snapped, slamming his cup down, “There won’t be any fucking bedding ceremony,” he growled, “My wife and I will be retiring to our chambers– alone. And if… any one of you lays another paw on her, you will lose it.”

Lyanna stared at Aegon, those huge brown eyes wide. Her lips were parted slightly as he once again strung her along the halls to his– no, their– chambers. She was shaking.

Once in their chambers, he let go of her, uncorking another bottle of wine and taking a swig. “I presume you think that this is where I will fuck you, hm? Stick my prick in you and make an heir and we will all live happily ever after like a child’s storybook.”

Lyanna stared down at her feet. “It… it would be… the duty of husband and wife to consummate–”

“Fuck duty! I’m not going to fuck some weepy eyed maiden because my old fuck grandsire said so. I don’t have need of you in that way.”

Her hands were trembling as she unlaced the back of her dress, her movements autonomous– she was doing what she thought she should be doing in this situation. She began to undress, slipping her gown off and leaving her in her silken shift, which didn’t leave much to the imagination. The sight of her body, soft, stirred something within him for a moment, like a spark trying to ignite kindling.

“We don’t have to do this, Lyanna,” he murmured, using her name for the first time. He put down the wine bottle. “We can wait.”

“N-no! Please, I want to– please,” Lyanna whispered, practically pleading for it, as if she wanted to get it over with. “Please.”

Aegon rubbed a hand down his face. “Get on the bed then. Lie on your stomach.”

She did as she was told, laying flat on the bed on her stomach. She clutched some pillows as a lifeline.

He knew he should warm her up, he knew that they should want to touch one another, he should want to see her face– but he didn’t. He couldn’t bear to look at her face, or touch her for longer than was necessary. He barely shimmied down his trousers before he began poking at her entrance with a half-hard cock, partially trying to give her a moment to get used to the sensations, and partially trying to find where he was supposed to stick it– he knew, of course, he’d fucked his way through King’s Landing and then some, but he hadn’t fucked many maidens, and especially not when he was blind drunk.

Eventually, he hit home and slid into her, his movements slow at first. He could hear her whimpers and knew they weren’t of pleasure. It reminded him of his wedding night with Helaena where they’d both cried– all the memories of that night came flooding back, causing him to falter.

Lyanna looked back at him, her eyes puffy and red, “I-Is it over?” 

Aegon swallowed sharply, cringing as he stared at her. The moment of arousal he had– purely from stimulation alone– was gone now, his half-hard erection deflating completely. “Fuck– yes, it’s over.” he didn’t have the heart to tell her that it in fact had hardly started before it was over– and not in the good way. He pulled out of her, taking in a deep breath as he walked to the water basin and soaked a cloth with warm water, offering it to her. “Wipe yourself– it will help with the… pain… and blood.” 

She took the cloth, wiping away the remnants of their half-fulfilled consummation. “I-I’m… sorry,” Lyanna whispered, sniffling, “I know I am not what you want.” 

His mouth was pulled into a thin line as he turned away. “You’re right. You aren’t.”

They fell into bed next to each other and Aegon’s mind was swimming as he tried to sleep. He didn’t know what he wanted. He never wanted any of this– he just wanted to be a kid again with no responsibilities, with all of his siblings, even Rhaenyra– he would’ve… he would’ve been nicer to all of them, he wouldn’t of picked on Aemond, he would’ve gotten to know Rhaenyra better, he would’ve played with Helaena’s bugs, he would’ve taught Daeron all of the secrets of the castle. He would’ve told his grandsire to fuck off when they were to crown him and had Sunfyre char him to a crisp and given the crown to Rhaenyra.

He would’ve been loved then.

He just wanted to be loved.

[quite-right-too]

Piece of Art

Tenth Doctor x GN!Reader / requests are open

Summary: The Doctor sees your newest tattoo.

One year.

You had been travelling for an entire year.

Granted, time was subjective when you are in a literal time machine, but the point still stood. For your timeline, it had been three hundred and sixty-five days of adventures.

It seemed like the Doctor also knew. He was up before you — which was normal considering his “superior Time Lord biology” allowed him to have “a considerably altered circadian rhythm” and he didn’t need much sleep.

He was already up and running around the console by the time you were up, hair tousled like he had been running his hands through it. You admired him from the doorway as he checked the screens, putting on his glasses and analysing the data that was written in that beautiful circular language.

“So, what’s the plan today?” you asked with a smirk, arms crossed and leaning against the coral entrance to the console room. The Doctor jumped for a second as he was brought out of his focused state.

He gave you his signature Doctor grin and began to flip various switches. “Well,” he drawled, “I was thinking we could go to Dracea VII. They have a wonderful festival that comes around every ten years. The food is amazing.” Nimble fingers typed into his keyboard as he watched the Gallifreyan symbols change. “Just imagine it. The sky's the perfect shade of lavender while the various rivers that flow through the city are a shimmering gold. The grass is soft, almost like silk, and is a deep blue. The entire planet is gorgeous.”

You couldn’t help the matching smile that spread across your face. “Sounds wonderful.”

“Alright!” he exclaimed, pulling a lever down hard as the TARDIS began to groan and lurch through the vortex. “Allons-y!”

A final thud upon landing threw your balance off. As you were sent stumbling, the Doctor reached out and grabbed your arm, pulling him into you as you both fell to the floor. He caught you, just as he always did. Your shared laughs filled the console room as you savoured the moment.

“Come on, up you go,” he grunted as he helped you to your feet. “Off on another adventure, us!” He grinned as he grabbed his overcoat and pulled it over his shoulders, adjusting the collar as he put it on. Once satisfied with how the garment sat, the Doctor held out his hand. His fingers wiggled in invitation. Chestnut eyes sparkled with the excitement of being able to spend time with you.

You loved it.

Fingers now laced, the door to the TARDIS was thrown open. Instead of the beautiful grass and rivers the Doctor had described, you were greeted with what appeared to be a sewer system. A very dirty sewer system.

As the two of you stepped out of the doors, the Doctor looked around with a grimace on his face. “What the-” He was quickly cut off with a low rumble.

A rumble that came from directly above you.

Although you both moved away from the now-noticed pipe above your heads, it was too late. The putrid smell of hot garbage assaulted you as you felt yourself get splashed with the brown mysterious liquid.

“Fucking dammit!” you yelled, lurching away.

The Doctor grabbed your hand, pulling you back into the TARDIS. Your shirt seemed to have gotten the worst of it. Not wanting to continue the contact of the sewage against your skin, you pulled your shirt off and discarded it on the floor of the console room.

“Alright, that was not where I intended to land. Sorry about that.” As the Doctor looked up at you, he froze. Standing before him was your shirtless form, bearing a semi-new tattoo.

The vibrant blue phone box that took up the space on the right side of your torso was beautifully surrounded with a galaxy. In the background, the Earth was able to be made out. 

His feet moved of their own accord. Before either of you knew it, he was standing directly in front of you, staring down at your ribs. “When did you get this done?” the Doctor murmured quietly, his hand coming up to hover above the piece.

You moved your hand up to his, pressing his fingers against your skin. “You can touch, Doctor.” You smiled at how enraptured he was. “I got it the last time we were in America. Probably around three months ago? Did you know that Los Angeles has some pretty amazing tattoo artists?”

“This is brilliant.” The Doctor was in complete and utter awe. “Why haven’t you shown me this before?” He traced circular patterns over the tattoo with the pads of his fingers.

“I don’t know, just…” You trailed off, mind melting at the feel of the skin-to-skin contact. “Wanted to wait for the right time.”

“Well, I love it.” The Doctor wasn’t lying. His eyes were staring into your soul. He loved it.

“Good,” you breathed. He was so close to you — it made it so hard to think.

I love you.

The words caught in your throat.

[gabessquishytum]

Oh OG Warprize Hob Anon wherefore art thou..... I just thought it was time to show thanks and appreciation for one of the best AUs (imo) to come out of the Dreamling ship. Not a week goes by where I don't think about their writing, and spin headcanons and scenarios of my own in my head. One of the most underrated aspects of their writing I think is Dream's ruthlessness and cruelty in that AU, it's so rare to see Dream just be a toppy asshole all the way through, fellow fans seem to prefer to see him as an emotional bottom twink 😭. One of the rare AUs where Hob is allowed to be the sensitive wanton bottom all throughout 🤤🤤 Ohh OG Warprize Hob Anon, I miss your writing so much, I hope to see your writing grace this dashboard once more, especially with more dark Dream moments. For my fellow fans, I thought I'd do a small thing and compile all their asks here. I'm so sorry if this is sloppy, but I just copy-pasted these here.

Warprize Hob AU

Anonymous asked:

I don’t know where this came from?? Dubcon/noncon cw, or it’s kinky roleplay if you prefer that. But...

Hob fought bravely, a solider in the war of greater men. He even crossed blades with terror in all black, the Nightmare King himself once. They said it was better for a solider like him to die with honor than to be taken alive. But when the tide turned and Hob’s own sworn sovereign fell, all he wanted was to live. He laid down his blade, expecting to be taken into chains. But not chains like these.

He kneels, blindfolded, on the bed, naked other than pure gold bondage, thin chains that truss him everywhere. Gold binds his hands at his back. Gold cuffs secure his ankles, connected by a flimsy thread only put there so it could be snapped apart. Gold laces around his tits, catching in his chest hair. Gold threads between new ruby piercings in his nipples—still so sensitive that even the touch of silk sends bolts of pure heat through his body. Every time he twitches, he sees stars. Gold loops like garters around his thighs, connected to the glimmering chain around his hips. And gold ribbon cages his achingly hard cock and full balls.

Hob is so, so hard. He has been since they fed him sweet candied fruits laced with a magic that heated his blood until he was begging those faceless servants to please, please let him come. They didn’t. Instead, he was bathed and perfumed with jasmine oil brushed through his hair (everywhere). He was opened with gentle touches and generous oil, a marble plug nestled inside him, blessedly cool against his burning skin. He was left on the bed with a final chain connecting his collar to the bedframe.

His prick so hard in its confines, and the plug is not enough. He still feels terribly empty. Against his own will, he finds himself rocking back and forth, rubbing his thighs together, desperate for anything that might help him get pleasure where he needs it most.

Until with no warning, a hand touches his head. He stills. He thought he was alone. Strong, thin fingers brush down his face, linger on his lips. A gentle thumb pushes inside his mouth. Hob moans, body thrumming like a harp just to be touched so simply.

“Peace, my prize,” a deep voice, peaceful as slumber, murmurs. The blindfold is pulled down and Hob blinks blearily into the face of the Nightmare King himself. He smiles, confident and regal, and slim fingers caress his side, down to his ass, and push against the plug until it finally presses where Hob needs it. "I will give you what you crave.”

Gabe:

Mmmm yes!!!! I love this.

Hob as Dream’s chosen prize after his victory in battle? Oh yes, excellent. I particularly adore the idea of Hob being unknowingly fed some kind of aphrodisiac to make him needy - Dream wants him to be willing, so he will simply make sure that he has no choice but to be.

Also, the preparation... Hob would usually be utterly humiliated by such an act. It's so impersonal and degrading. But all he can think about is how much he wants to cum, so he spends the whole time whining and begging for more. By the time Dream gets to him, Hob is spreading his legs like a well trained whore who's never known anything different. He's nearly forgotten the battle and his instincts as a warrior, he just wants to be fucked. Anyone could come into the room and have him and Hob would just be grateful.

But he isn't for just anyone, oh no. He's the king’s prize, his spoils of war. He suckles desperately on Dream’s thumb, sticks his arse out temptingly and generally tries to make himself as tempting as possible. He aches, and his brain is fuzzy, the king is absolutely the most beautiful thing Hob has ever seen right now.

Not to mention his cock is perfect - the most perfect Hob has ever had inside him. It's as though his body has been molded perfectly for the king’s cock. He's not sure if he's ever cum so many times in his life.

When he comes back to himself several hours later, sweating and sticky and aching... he knows that he should be angry and hurt. He should get up from the beautiful bed and find some way to escape. But. He's tired, and hungry. The bed is comfortable, and the king is staring at him with sparkling black eyes.

He rolls over. Cum trickles gently down his thighs. The king holds out his hand, one of those candied fruits held between his long pale fingers.

Hob opens his mouth.

Anonymous asked:

Hiii I’m the originally war prize hob anon, lured back because I was blown away by how you and everyone else responded to the idea! Amazing work, go team.

Here’s more. (It’s so long. I’m sorry)

At first, Hob was confined to the bed chamber, a decoration, a pretty thing—and so rarely has Hob ever considered himself pretty. Pretty was for swallow-boned young men and women with smooth thighs. Pretty was not him, full bodied and furred. He has always pleased his lovers, they have found him handsome. But most have expected him to take charge and take care of them, not to—to—

Submit with spread legs and open mouth. To tempt. To eat sweet aphrodisiacs from those long, pale fingers until he’s begging to feel them for inside him. Sweet humiliation.

The king wants this. They pass long nights pounding Hob’s pride to shreds. He learns to beg under the king’s cock, his cruel mouth, and the touch of those inhuman eyes. Even sober, he only has to think of the king and his body floods with hot want. But still. Hob doesn’t understand.

“Why me?” He dared ask the first week, the king with a hand fisted in his hair, thrusting into him so deep and slow, Hob could feel it in his throat.

The king paused. A cool hand trailed down Hob’s back. Gathered the chains that pooled at his back, the ones he hadn’t yet snapped in his fervor. “I am interested.”

Hob meant to press him, even at the risk of his own peril, but the king slammed back into him and every thought vanished.

And then Hob is brought out of the bed and taken to kneel at the throne during the days too, chained to the king’s hand. At first, Hob assumes he is meant to be a symbol of the king’s power. Or a toy to warm the king’s cock when the duties of court grow dull. (Hob is both.)

But then comes a night when the king ponders battle plans for his next great war. And he turns to Hob.

“My general suggested we surge ahead and meet the enemy at their own gate. You rolled your eyes.” The king looks at Hob as if he is peeling the layers of muscle and bone away, finding the heart of him. And Hob realizes that all day, the king had noticed him listening. Not always—sometimes the king prefers to see him squirm, prefers to press the heavy gold plug into his hole and watch Hob strain for hours to keep it in, only to fail. During those hours, Hob had not heard a thing.

But when the king had allowed Hob to rest his head against his solid thigh, Hob had listened. And he had been seen doing it.

“Your enemy will expect a frontal attack. A show of strength. For you are a strong king. Respectfully, that’s a brave way to kill many of your own men.”

“Hmm.” The king says nothing else. He beckons until Hob kneels again at his side, the bowl of candied fruits, as always, sitting on the table. The king plucks one up and offers it to Hob.

“My lord,” Hob breathes. “Why do you care what I think?”

Hands brush through his hair. “Eat,” the king murmurs.

This king wants something. He waits for something. Hob cannot work out what. Yet.

He eats.

Gabe:

Assfggjkl og warprize anon!!!!!!

I am so taken with Hob’s thoughtfulness, his curiosity. His fearlessness. And I think that Dream is rapidly becoming besotted with these things too.

Hob isn't scared of him. No matter how ruthless and harsh he is, no matter which way Dream forces Hob to bend, he always springs back up with those curious eyes, wanting to know what's next. Dream suspects that he doesn't need the aphrodisiacs at all - that Hob would be willing to spread himself out in any arrangement of Dream’s choosing. But Dream is afraid of rejection, and Hob enjoys the lustful oblivion just a little bit too much to ask for a change.

Hob is clever and capable and good with his hands. When Dream comes to him wounded from some accident or skirmish, Hob knows exactly how to bind the flesh carefully but firmly. He rests his head in Dream’s lap after, like a beloved pet hound. His breathing is so soothing, Dream even manages to fall asleep. He wakes up and Hob is already between his legs, ready and waiting to be choked on the king’s cock as usual.

Dream fucks him instead, as ferocious as ever but this time with a purpose. Hob is his prize and the world ought to know about it. From now on, he'll have Hob smelling of his cum, always. He'll have him littered with bite marks and bruises. He'll keep Hob close, make sure the end of his gold leash is always within reach. He'll bring Hob to the battlefield, if he must.

A creature as magnificent as Hob must be treated as he deserves. And Dream alone can give him what he needs.

Anonymous asked:

War prize hob anon, here!!! I am loving the responses to this idea! So many amazing brilliant takes, love to see it.

The talk of whether Hob would escape or stay and be spoiled inspired me (glorious takes on both sides) so I drabbled on the subject…

It takes time. Trust. And a letter opener left unattended.

That night, Hob slides quietly as he can out of the silk sheets. He sits astride the sleeping king, his face turned toward the moon, his neck a deceptive swan’s curve. And Hob raises the blade to it.

One slice. And he is free.

It does not matter, he tells himself, that he has never been fucked so well. That the king is kind to him, relatively. He could take Hob with violence and pain or share him. Instead he feeds Hob fruits to heat his blood so that every time he plunders his body, with fingers, tongue and cock, Hob welcomes him.

Even the humiliations and hurts of his new service are given a sweet edge. The way he was spanked for misbehaving, hard and brutal, until his skin was red and tender. Followed by a hot tongue in his ass. The way he was made to kneel for hours and hold the king’s cock in his mouth. Followed by servants massaging the aches from his body and tending to his bad knee. (Yet another reason Hob is a poor choice for a prize.) In the king’s service, Hob might hurt. But he rewards him with such care…lavishes attention on him until Hob cannot come any more.

No. Hob has to do this. He must escape. He has his pride. This is just pleasure. Nothing more.

“Well?” The king’s voice interrupts his turmoil. Oh gods. He is awake. He surges up, knocking the blade from his grip. A hand clamps on his thigh, another on his wrist and he is rolled on his back, away from the blade. The chain between his wrists, once wide to allow him movement, slithers shorter until the cuffs kiss, and the collar tightens just enough to threaten his breathing. For all his battle prowess, struggling it gets him nowhere but squirming and pinned. The nightmare king settles over Hob like a dragon on top of its hoard. He stares unblinkingly down at him.

“You could not do it,” comes that deep whisper. Hob stills. “You are a well-trained solider yet for nearly five minutes you sat with a blade at my neck and did not make your move. Why?”

Hob swallows. A hot open mouthed kiss blooms just under his jaw, followed by the press of teeth. Even without the candied fruit his body sings for this man. What is happening to him?

“My pet. My prize. You must already face great consequences for this disobedience,” the king says. “I may not let you come for weeks. Answer me or it will be months.”

“I had to try. I had to—I don’t understand.” It isn’t the first time he has asked, pled, begged to know. “I’m at my wits end. Please. Why me?”

Fingers slip between them to tease at his hole and Hob resists the powerful, heady urge to submit and grind against him. For as long as he can before his resolve crumbles into lust. It will not be long. It never is.

The king gives the same maddening answer he always gives. The only one, whispered against his lips. “I am interested.”

Gabe:

Hnnnnng.

Og warprize hob anon…… i hope you know that you’ve created a beautiful monster and we’re all horny about it. i hope you also know that your words are beautiful and your prose is delightful. it’s a pleasure to read.

Oh but the turmoil Hob goes through. There’s nothing that the king can do to soothe the way his mind is twisting and turning, bouncing between loyalty to himself and some mad, misplaced loyalty to this nightmare of man. What does Hob owe Dream, really? His life? What kind of life is this?

He could set himself free. He thinks he’s almost worked it out. He could take away the one think the king seems to want. He could make himself… dull. Boring, predictable. Uninteresting.

But.

He thinks about long, thin fingers running down his spine and soothing the perpetual ache at the small of his back. Warm salve on his knee, applied at the king’s own orders. His body rigid and sweating in the night from some bad dream, suddenly embraced by cool arms. A kiss on his brow in the early morning. He’s been so greedy for those things, has coveted them and gloried in them. How can he live without them now?

Worse: what would the nightmare king do with a broken toy? Hob doesn’t want to find out.

He bounces in Dream’s lap with renewed fervor when he’s finally allowed the privilege of taking the king’s cock again. But there’s a heat behind his eyes, a kind of determination that he’d thought long dead and gone. He’ll find some way to win this game, this strange warped little battle. His own feelings be damned, Hob will not be broken. Even a king must have some chink in his armor, somewhere.

Dream raises a delicate eyebrow and almost, almost smiles. Pulls his prize closer by his golden leash.

“Interesting.”

Anonymous asked:

Hiiii warprize anon here! Glad to see people are still warprizing hob, I think it’s good for him. Truly, anons, you are doing glorious work with that AU.

I wanted to write dark obsessive dream next in all his dubcon glory next but no one cooperated? Have some less porny character introspection instead ig…

It’s amazing how little it takes for a grown man to become used to being a pet. As weeks stretch into months, Hob revels, just a little. In the lustful linger of eyes on his body. In the quirk of that cruel mouth when Hob pleases the king. The eager stirring of his cock even before he eats aphrodisiacs. Even his punishments—even the hot lash of the whip—begins to feel like sacrilegious worship. Gasping for breath, holding his thighs spread as the king buries himself in his body certainly is. In the blackest and most honest hours of the night, Hob knows the truth. He is starting to like it.

That’s the danger of the king’s service.

Hour by orgasmic hour, the king is twisting himself into Hob’s mind and body like a key carving out its own lock. He demands Hob’s submission, his pleasure and his desire for his own. But how many people had the king had in such a way? How many prizes have knelt, and learned to live at his pleasure? And where are they now? Abandoned surely, replaced. Hob is the chalice the king sips from now but he is one of dozens, maybe even hundreds. The king might have taken a prize from every battle won.

Hob is…not special.

He kneels on his cushion, waiting for the king who has stepped from the throne room, and reminds himself.

Footsteps approach and stop just behind him. Always, when the king is away, a guard is assigned to keep a close eye for Hob’s protection, though none are allowed to take his chains in their grip. Not unless Hob runs. Daring, the guard plucks at the chain between his nipples until it swings against Hob’s chest. He holds his breath.

“How’s it going?” A voice drawls. “Knees a little tired?”

Hob glances at the door for the absent king before raising his head. The guard above him smirks like he knows a joke and Hob is the punchline.

“Yes, rather,” Hob replies. “Even with the cushion.”

“His majesty seems to like that,” he muses.

Corinthian. That is his name. He’d heard the king give him orders with iron in his voice. The way one talked to a guard dog who wasn’t trusted. A creature who couldn’t be taught to fear the whip.

“You’d know better than me.” Hob meets his eye as best he can through the man’s dark glasses. He is very handsome, golden and strong. Perhaps this is the answer. Perhaps prizes who lose their luster are given other ways to serve.

Corinthian tilts his head. Hob feels his eyes trace down the marks the king left. Lurid love bites at his throat and faint fingertip bruises on his hips. “I really don’t. Suppose I’m not his type.”

“Surely you’ve seen the others then.” Hob replies. He keeps his hands folded where they’re bound at the small of his back.

“Other … prizes?” Corinthian’s grin only grows. “Sweetheart, no. You’re the first.”

Hon stares but senses no lie. “Can’t be.“

“Picking a prize always been his right but he’s never felt the need to use it until now. Until you.” The man leans closer, dangerously into his space. Hob feels him breathing, he’s so close. “I’ve heard the sounds he pulls from you at night. He must have years of pent up energy.”

Hob’s throat is dry. Something fragile, winged and stupid flutters in his chest. But before he has to think of a reply, Corinthian snaps back to a respectful distance an instant before the doors swing open, and the king sweeps in. He climbs the stairs, slinks back to claim his throne. Hob is still reeling when his cool hand finds his chin and tilts his head up.

“You did not move,” the king says. It is not a question but an expectation.

Hob shakes his head. For a long moment his eyes glitter down on him, simply watching. Then fingers card through his hair and he is guided to rest his head against his king’s knee.

Gabe:

Lying face down on the floor after reading this tbh. Like. What can I say? What can I add?

Knowing that he's the only one is a further kind of beautiful torture for Hob, because once again he's asking himself over and over again: why? Why him, above anyone else? There's a part of him in agony over his imprisonment, the curtailing of his freedoms, the fact that his mind and body are no longer his own. Then there's the part of him who wants to know why, so he can be good. He needs to know how he can keep the favour that he has miraculously obtained.

And Dream? He never gives answers. If Hob even dared to ask more than a small, sobbed "why me?" in the midst of some blissful torture, Dream wouldn't bother to answer. Hob thinks that the king likes him kept ignorant and confused. It's another way to keep him in line. He's always dancing on a knife's edge, wondering whether the king will eventually toss him aside - never knowing if he's truly safe.

So he'd better be as good as he can. Never give Dream a reason to throw him away. But he will slip up eventually - its only a matter of time...

Anonymous asked:

As requested, here’s some warprize!hob being punished by dark!dream for bad behavior. Also… thanks panickingstudent2’s last ask for some very specific inspo!

The king chains him up by his wrists. No gold cuffs with velvet interiors here. Not for this. This is punishment, work fit for dungeons, cold and deep as his king’s displeasure. Hob is already delirious from too much candied fruit. The cage has been cruelly clenched around his hot, aching cock for days now but he needs to be fucked, he needs it, he needs it.

“Mercy,” he begs but it won’t do him any good. He’s been begging for days, his cock and balls hot and aching.

Fury is divine on the nightmare king’s face. Other kings would simply kill him. Leave his body for the ravens. But Hob’s king will not let him go.

“I would have you obey me,” the king says. Fingers brush against his hole and don’t even push in where Hob yearns for them despite himself. He cants his hips back weakly, but the fingers go away. “But if I must bring you low again and again, I will. And I will enjoy it every time.”

He steps back. And the whip snaps through the air and white-hot fire flashes across Hob’s back.

Wet agony blooms across his shoulders and bloodred welts.

“You know why I must do this,” the king says. “You know why it is my pleasure to do this.”

The whip lashes again and again, fire licking across his skin. It doesn’t stop when Hob screams. Or when he sobs. When it’s done, his entire back glows like an ember. The king faces him, eyes black holes in his pale, sharp face. He places a cool hand on Hob’s back and he presses into the soothing touch, whining like a newborn babe.

“Please, I’m sorry, please, pleasepleaseplase,” he breathes. The king twists him around until the cuffs pull tight. He drags the plug from his hole, and finally buries himself to the hilt in his ass. Hob wails. Hands tangle in his chest hair and pull him flush against his king, as he plunges in and out at a ruinous pace. Being finally filled is sweeter relief than when the whip stopped.

“Say you are mine,” the king says. Once he was quiet, and constrained whenever he touched Hob and this is why—the need in his voice is barely bridled. Hob is not the only desperate one. “Say it.” The king bites, sudden and sharp at Hob’s earlobe.

“I’m yours—Morpheus!” His head snaps back as his body thunders through a cruel, dry orgasm. He doesn’t hear the king’s soft gasp against his ear, or register the name he’s cried. He’s in pain, from his cock to his shoulders—yet Hob floats. Perhaps he could fly.

Love, Warprize Anon

Gabe:

Hnnnggg. I am. Deeply obsessed with this. I love it when you drop these beautiful snippets for us!!! Hob calling the king by his name in the middle of a punishment/orgasm? Talk about a mind-fuck. Poor thing, he's truly terrified.

But it isn't just fear, is it? It would be so much simpler if he could say that he's scared and be done with it. So much easier to handle that emotion. What he feels is more that fear. He's grown attached to the king, longs for him when they're apart and fears him when they're together. When he tries to imagine a life away from his capture, he can't even manage it anymore. It's impossible to see beyond the king, who looms so large in Hob’s thoughts all the time. He's obsessed, addicted, terrified, longing to be taken and horrified by the idea all the same.

All he knows is that his king has power over him that he will probably never comprehend. Perhaps its time to surrender and acknowledge that he's lost. He no longer belongs to himself. He belongs to Morpheus.

-Love Yan Anon <3

Aww, hey Yan Anon!!! It's nice to hear from you. And thank you for highlighting OG Warprize Anon and their incredible work (you're a trooper for scrolling through and copy/pasting everything, seriously). Warprize au has definitely been a big hit, as it rightly should be, and it's great to look back on how it all started. Hopefully OG Warprize Anon is out there doing great and knowing that they inspired many, many people.

Hopefully we'll see more content for the Dark Dream enjoyers out there. I certainly lean towards a mean toppy Dream myself, although I'm not immune to Obliterating That Twink either. There's room for everyone in the fandom - and don't forget to leave comments for your favourite authors as Yan Anon has here. It's a great way to encourage your faves to write more of the stuff that you love!

[ball0fhoney]

________________________________________

Valentine's Day special edition

Quaritch x Human! Reader headcanons ~ smut ~

___________________________________________

content: valentine's gift, soft sex, fingering

MASTERLIST

× Whenever he walked around with you to shopping malls he would listen to your comments on clothes and other products so that he knows exactly what you like and what to buy you for Valentine's day.

× After a long day on work Quaritch would return home and quietly hide the present so you don't accidentally spoil it.

× He walked up to your room to place the present and cover it with rose petals. The whole room smelt amazing. He also left one rose leaning on the present.

× It was wrapped in a red bow and a little card was hanging down, "From Papa" written on it. Lot's of hand drawn hearts of course.

× Later when you walked to your room in a baggy oversized shirt as you noticed a present. You picked up the rose to smell it and smiled. Then you proceeded to finally open the present.

× You blushed as you held red lingerie in your hands. It looked beautiful and the lace looked so delicate. "This must have been expensive" you thought to yourself and dragged your finger over the fine fabric.

× Soon after Quaritch came to your room and leaned onto doorframe, smirk on his face. "Did I get it right?" he spoke in a soft tone.

× You turned your head over your shoulder to smile at him with a rose in your hand. You smelt it once again and giggled. "How did you know?"

× "Well, I-... I have my ways." He was about to say how well he watched you pick clothes in the mall but then he changed his mind. Quaritch was mesmerized by you and he couldn't wait for you to try it on.

× He walked up behind you and placed a hand on your small cheek, caressing it. "You gonna try it on babygirl?"

× You looked up at him and flashed him a smirk. "You'll have to turn around big boy."

× To him this sounded ridiculous after years of relationship but he went with your game.

× You started taking off your clothes, shirt first. You kicked it off with your leg in front of Quaritch that was turned around up front.

× After that you threw your panties over his shoulder. He turned his head slowly to look at it. You could see his cheek rise as he smiled. "You nasty." he added and took them in his hand.

× Finally, you put on your new lingerie and told him to turn around. "I'm done." As he turned, sparks in his eyes appeared. You looked beautiful, and sexy as hell.

× "Get over here." he said and you approached looking all shy and innocent. That was definitely turning him on. He placed his hand on your cheek and cupped you chin making you look up at him.

× "Oh stop giving me those eyes." Quaritch said as his ears dropped. He picked you up and pressed you against his massive chest so you wrapped your legs around his slim waist.

× He kissed your collar bone, moving up your neck. He bit you here and there leaving marks of love and hickeys. You whimpered and rubbed his deltoids and neck muscles.

× You quickly noticed something touching your bottom and you realised it was him getting excited. His hands were pressing onto your hips down into his erect member making you squirm. It was huge and you blushed at the thought of it entering you.

× His other hand slid down your butt and inside your new panties to rub and prepare you. You huffed as he slid his middle finger between your lips nearly entering you. He started rubbing you up and down and then circular.

× You bit your lip and closed your eyes at the pleasure that was coursing through you. Reflexively, you squeezed your legs together and pushed yourself down on his finger.

× He pulled away his finger and put it in his mouth. Quaritch let out a groan as he tasted you. "Oh, you're delicious." Then he went back with his hand to move the panties to the side without taking them off. He slowly pushed you down on his warm cock and you whimpered as he entered.

× He stretched your walls and it felt like a mixture of pain and pleasure. You squeezed your walls and he groaned "Damn, you're tight." He pressed down on you even more to about half size of his dick until he couldn't push it any further.

× You let out a yelp of pleasure and pulled him closer to you pressing chest on your face. He had your ass cheeks cupped in his hands and started moving up and down, rocking his hips.

× His ears were dropped down and eyes closed as he started to speed up. You held your breath and exhaled digging your nails in his back.

× "You're beautiful babygirl." He said as he squeezed your cheeks even more. You moaned out his name and felt your uterus contracting.

× Soon both of you were nearing to finish and he groaned and sweated. His back was all scratched and on some places blood was even dripping.

× "Papas going to fill you up sweetheart." He said as you noticed his member twitching inside of you. Quaritch pressed down on your hips to go in as deep as he can to cream inside of you. You moaned loudly as some of his cum started dripping out of you.

× You were filled up like a turkey for Thanksgiving Day. He stayed inside of you for a little bit longer to catch his breath. As he pulled away and put you on the floor, cum dripped down your leg.

× He saw you being wobbly and unable to stand, not to mention walk, so he picked you up and placed you on a bed.

× After that he prepared you a nice warm bath to refresh in and prepare for sleep.

[anal-queen-waifu]

Afterparty

It's late, we're in the car, he's driving us home from our friends' wedding. I admire his hands, one on the steering wheel and the other on the stick. I trace with my eyes every visible vein, I look at his fingers and my cunt throbs at the sight of his wedding ring as I'm touching mine as well. My eyes go further to his wrist, he is wearing the watch I gifted him for his birthday. It's a perfect match to his suit. I look up to him, so serious, so responsible; his brows furrow just a little bit and I get tingles again. He is so handsome, I look at him and can't understand how I got so lucky!

Drunk with love and lust for him, but also with a little whisky, I reach for his crotch.

"Not yet, dearest darling. You've been such a good girl the entire night. You've taken it like a very brave girl. I'm so proud of you! Just have a little more patience, you're going to get what you're craving and so much more!"

Just before we left home, he told me to put my Hush in. He's been edging me the whole night, my panties are soaked and I am so needy that I want him to pull over and take me right there on the side of the road. But I restrain myself like a good girl and wait, indulging in his sight and fantasizing about him ravaging me.

When we get home, he makes himself a drink and sits in his favorite armchair.

"Undress."

I am so flustered. I'm always embarrassed when I'm this exposed, his eyes roaming on my breasts, my waist, my ass, knowing quite well what I hide underneath my long, backless dress. I can see his burning eyes reaching my deep, V shaped neckline, stopping at the curve of my breasts and then going up, meeting my eyes. So hungry. Despite teasing me and edging me all night, he hasn't touched me inappropriately at all. I shiver at the thrill of seeing him unchain the beast that has been waiting for this the whole night.

I push the straps of my dress off my shoulders and the dress slides to the floor, leaving me in my black lingerie and heels. He signals with his index finger towards the floor and I kneel and slowly come towards him on all fours. Once I reach him, he picks up the collar that has been waiting on his knee and puts it on me, pulling my chin up and staring right into my eyes.

"Mine."

I tighten my cunt at the claim he made. He leans forward and barely brushes a kiss on my lips, teasing me and then presses his lips to my forehead. We remain like this for a few seconds and I close my eyes to bask in his love. He slowly breaks away and looks at me.

"Turn around. Assume the position."

I do as I'm told and lean forward, exposing myself to him.

"Panties off."

I slowly reach for my black lace panties and remove them and spread my cheeks before him. I hear a little growl and I get goosebumps. He slowly starts caressing my cheeks, making sure to not touch any sensitive areas. I wish he'd let go and just bury himself inside me but he takes his time. I sense him getting up and coming in front of me. I look up and he leashes me, tugging on it to signal me to rise. Now my red lips are right in front of his crotch.

"How bad do you want it, babygirl?"

"Please, Daddy! I want you to stretch all my holes! Please! I've been such a good girl the whole night!"

"You beg so beautifully, kitten. Unwrap your gift, then."

Soon, his pants are being undone and I reveal his cock. My mouth waters at the sight of his full length. I start licking his balls, ever so softly. He did his teasing, now it's my turn. I gently take them in my mouth one by one and then both of them, at the same time caressing his thighs. His breath catches ever so often and I smile as I trace my tongue up his shift towards the head. He tugs on the leash for me to take him whole in my mouth but I don't listen as I go back down again.

"Are you sure you want to play this game, little brat?"

I don't say anything, I just lick up and down his cock a few more times. As I'm reaching his tip again, he tugs hard on the leash, grabs my hair and starts fucking my mouth hard. I gag a few times but try my best to take it as well as I can. He's ravenous and I love it. My cunt is throbbing, my butthole is twitching, I crave him everywhere. After he's satisfied, he pulls out and I trace the lines of spit back to his throbbing cock and start sucking on it at a steady pace.

"That's my good girl! Now wait here, I'll be right back."

I'm on my knees on our fluffy carpet, no thought in my head other than having my holes abused by his cock over and over again. He leaves the room and I position myself face down ass up with my back to the door. When he comes back he lets out a pleased hum. I feel him approaching me and suddenly his thumb is applying pressure right to my core. I whimper so hard I almost cum right then and there. He lets out a breathy laugh.

"Such a needy little slut you are. I saw you tonight at the party, squirming every time I put the Hush on high vibrations, rubbing your thighs together, almost leaning you head back in pleasure. You think those people at the table with us could hear the vibrations? Could see you squirming like a little slut drunk on pleasure? How did it feel, sweetheart? Do you enjoy being Daddy's slut?"

"Uh-uh."

I can barely form any words, I can barely think about anything else than his fingers between my legs teasing me, filling the room with lewd, wet noises. I buck my hips and he feels my swollen clit.

"No cumming yet, dearest darling! Do you think that taking your little mouth was punishment enough for teasing me like that? I need a proper answer. Do you enjoy being Daddy's little slut?"

I can't get anything out other than heavy panting.

"Come now, darling. Find your words."

"I love it Daddy! I love being your little slut! Please let me cum! Please! I will be such a good girl!"

He growls and burries his face between my legs.

"You taste heavenly, my darling!"

With only a flick of his tongue he sends me over the edge and I let go.

"Cum for me, baby. Cum for Daddy."

My body spasms, all my senses are reduced to him eating my cunt and his hands tightening on my hips. It goes on, and on and on until he is satisfied. He takes off his tie and blindfolds me with it, gets the cuffs and ties my hands behind my back.

"It's showtime babygirl."

He helps me to get up from the floor and guides me to the extended couch.

"Position."

I get on my knees, my back to him, and he pushes me face first on the couch. He gives me another long caress with his finger between my lips and just plunges in. I find release right then, with only one powerful thrust. I can feel his cock twitching inside me and my cunt tingles even harder. He starts fucking me slowly, lazily so I can feel every inch of his cock sliding in and out of me.

"Fuck me harder! I can't take it anymore!"

"Tut tut, where are your manners, I wonder."

"Pleaseeee.. please Daddy, please! I need you to fuck me as hard as you can!"

Hearing this, he starts pounding away.

"Oh God... Oh God.... Oh God... may I please cum again? I can't resist anymore-e-e!"

"Yes you may, babygirl!"

I cum my brains out each time, again and again and again. Taking out the Hush, he starts fingering my asshole, stimulating me even further and after he's stretched me enough, he claims my ass as well.

"Should I go slow, babygirl? Are you adjusted to the size of my cock?"

"I need you to fuck me as hard as you've fucked my cunt! Ah-ah-ah-ah...."

Orgasm after orgasm. He's trained me so well my butt acts like a cunt.

"You truly are my anal queen, darling! Listen to yourself! Do you hear how wet you are? God you feel so good! You're such a good girl for me, so tight, so smooth!"

I can feel his cock getting harder still and I can feel my orgasm starting to build up again. My whole existence is reduced to that rock hard cock fucking my asshole relentlessly. We cum together. Feeling his warm cum fill my insides is my undoing every time. He collapses on top of me and starts kissing my back from my neck to my waist.

"I love you, babygirl!"

"I love you too, Daddy!"

He gets off me, takes off my cuffs and my blindfold and we cuddle on the couch. He caresses my hair, my back and gives me the most softest of kisses. I'm home. I'm always home in his arms.

[just-some-random-blogger]

can i have a fluff where the reader realizes that morpheus has turned into a cat (because he likes to adopt that form from time to time in his room) and instead of freaking out like he expected, she immediately cuddles up to him because she's a cat lover and she starts hugging and kissing him, plus if she also gives him the nickname of meowpheus

Please?

Hello There!

Dream of the Endless x Reader

Summary: "I LOVE CATS" -you (also me)

Word Count: >700

Warnings: kitty meow meow dream (real), touch deprived!dream, gender neutral!reader, fluff, typos, etc.

A/N: MEOWPHEUS T_T omg that's so cute <3 thank you for this req. i did change a detail tho, i hope you like it still <3 also i totally agree that if dream where a cat, he'd be a big mainecoon 10000% Tagging: @pinksirensong @deniixlovezelda @shadow-pancake9

"You do know instead of spying on like a creep-"

"I'm not spying, I am observing."

"... like a creep! You could just go and-"

Matthew croaks from the top of the signage when the door flies open.

I huff as I throw my trash into the dumpster. I then look out into the damp street, glistening under the shine of the streetlights. I call out to the kitties I usually feed at this time, though I knew they probably wouldn't come, cause it had just rained a few moments ago.

But then, I spot the large cat, walking over to me with purpose.

"Great Scott, you are a big one!" I gasp.

The black cat is unfazed, continuing to walk over.

"You hungry, kitty cat?" I bend down slightly, trying to see if the kitty had a collar, but to no avail. I half expect the cat to meow at me. No, there was only silence.

There was something oddly familiar about this cat, perhaps the cutie belongs to my neighbor? Nah... that's not it. I just couldn't put my finger on it.

Matthew watches from the signage on the other side of the street, wondering why Dream hasn't spoken yet, but then again, this is the first time he's come in his cat form. Maybe he's got sense not to freak the living ghost out of-

I squeal, making the black cat reel back. I crouch to my knees, "shit, sorry, you're just so fluffy and cute. GAH!" I sigh, slowly coming over to the creature, "you must be super hungry."

I reach out to the feline, to my surprise, I am met with a cheek rubbing against my hand. My heart explodes at the cuteness, "okay, okay, gimme a sec."

Dream watches his lover run into the back door.

"Here!" I say once I come back out with a can of opened cat food. I put the object down, crouching a few feet away from the feline. The kitty walks over to me in caution, sniffing at the food before reeling back and looking at me in disgust.

I scoff, "tough crowd. You must be a prissy house cat," I get to my feet, "no matter, the strays will come and eat this if you don't want to."

A shiver runs down my spine when I think I hear a voice whisper out 'you are a kind soul'.

I shake my body, "weird."

The black cat sits and observes me as I call out for the stray cats.

The next moment, they are upon me, meowing for food, rubbing against my leg for cuddles.

"Hello there, cuties!" I say, as three cats swarm over, eagerly heading for the food.

I bring out two more cans of cat food and pour out some kibble on the street for them as well. At one point, there are a total of six cats in front of me. The black furred cat only watches the 5 when they eat. I make a face at the creature, "how very cat of you."

For a moment, there is only the sound of cats eating.

Much like her ritual, a kitty, I called Ruby, comes up to me after eating and rubs against my leg. I coo and pick her up, offering some cuddles to her, uncaring that she was a stray, "hey there, pretty girl. I'm glad you came to pay your dues."

I look out to the cats, "y'all, take notes!"

The next moment, I hear a deep meow, laced with purrs, and I turn down and see the black cat staring up at me with wide, blue eyes.

I snort, putting Ruby down, narrowing my eyes at the seemingly jealous kitty, scratching lightly at my pants. I crouch next to it, "you just wanted cuddles, now, did you?"

The cat stands, pressing paws on my shoulder, rubbing their head against my face, taking me off-guard. I nearly fall on my butt when I reel back. A string of giggles leave my lips, "okay, okay, I get it!"

I gather the kitty into my arms with a grunt. He is so large that it actually takes some strength to carry him. I huff, "what a big, healthy boy!"

I squeeze him tighter into my arms, both because he was so fluffy and soft, and because I was afraid I might drop him.

His purrs are so deep and loud, I can feel them echoing in my body.

"You know... you kind of remind me of my boyfriend," I casually say.

A genius thought comes into my mind.

"I'll call your Morpheus!" I smile, "MEOWPHEUS!" I cheer, rocking him in my arms, "HOMAYGOSH, I cannot wait to show you to him!"

[missmeasured]

Happy Snolidays

I tried to write a Drabble about Snape coming home for Christmas to meet your muggle family but then it got spicy on me. In this I made the reader and him have an unspecified age gap. I don’t say how they met, fill in the blank.

Warnings: Explicit: Sexy Times, Creaky Bed. NSFW

Muggle Family Christmas

As a muggleborn witch with all non magic siblings you are keenly aware of your strangeness when compared with your family. There are things about you that are just different. The way you dress is different from your siblings, the way you live, and work, but you all love the same. The family embraces you even if they can’t quite understand you. Even though it feels strange, you always dutifully come home for the holidays and embrace your muggle roots for the stay.

You started seeing Severus years ago now, this will be the third Christmas. You have always gone home for the holiday alone. Normally you exchange an owl of Christmas wishes on the day, last year you actually did exchange presents when you returned to the magical world after the festivities.

This year your family has gone all stubborn about meeting him all of a sudden. Normally they let you keep your life to yourself, after all, they didn’t really understand what you did for a living, or how your apartment could be hidden behind a wall at the back of a bookstore, so why would they attempt to understand your choice of partner?

The issue was, you didn’t worry about them meeting Severus because he was a wizard. It was because he was older than you, noticeably older. You weren’t sure what your parents would say. Mixed with the fact that he comes across so stern and silent, you felt like he would be a giant black elephant in the room, making everyone feel uncomfortable and unsure what to say.

You had asked Severus about the idea of accompanying you for the stay when you felt me might be pliable to the idea. He had you halfway undressed when you whispered into his ear that your parents had invited him to come stay for Christmas. He had returned teasingly “Ah so you are trying to butter me up with this lingerie. As soon as I untied your dress I had suspicions about what all this mauve lace was doing wrapped around you on such a cold day.”

He had said from the beginning that he was willing to do anything if it made you happy, but he knew he would not feel the most comfortable there. It was decided you would go, but instead of staying several days it would only be two days and one night. You shopped for muggle clothes for him. At first he didn’t seem to want to entertain the idea but when you pointed out he would be dressed bizarrely different than everyone else, he came around. You had bought him a wool sweater with a shawl collar, in very dark green, almost black. You also acquired a pair of plain black wool trousers, and a black mock neck shirt to go under it. When he got into the morning of your journey you salivated a little at him in it. He still had lots of layers on, he even fastened the toggle at the neck of the shawl collar, nestling the dark wool up to the back shirt underneath and there he was sitting on the end of the bed putting shoes on when you came out of the loo after brushing your teeth. You slid into his lap immediately and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you for this.” you told him, kissing him on the cheek and wishing you had time for more.

When you apparated to your parents, appearing slightly down the street, you started to get very nervous. Your lover asked you why you were so uncharacteristically quite you answered “I think I might barf. I should have warned them you were so…”

“So…?” He asked with a smile.

“So much older… So… Oh god I don’t know. So…”

“You didn’t tell them I’m older?”

“No….” you admit.

“Your father is going to glare at me for two days and you feel like you’re going to be sick?” He laughs. “Come on, sweetheart, don’t be a coward.” He rings your parents bell and you want to disapparate back to safety, or turn back time and tell your parents that your are coming alone.

Your family is nothing but welcoming, although both parents and all your siblings have shamelessly crowded into the front hallway to greet him like a bunch of nosey neighbours. They offer hugs all around, which Severus looks so uncomfortable in you swear he is going to internally combust. Each member of your family makes a face at you whenever Severus’ back is turned. you can’t quite interpret the combination of pulled facial muscles.

When your father takes Severus and his armload of gifts to unload them under the tree your sister finally gets to say what’s on her mind. She presses a glass of wine into your hands as she says “I didn’t know you had daddy issues” as she quickly scurries away knowing you will kick or swat at her if she stays within reach. She giggles and helps herself to the plate of cookies safely on the other side of the kitchen island.

“He’s quite um….. tall.” Your mother adds. There isn’t a single other adjective that comes to her mind, you suppose.

“What can we get you to drink to drink there ..uh - Sev -er-us? Am I saying right?” Your dad is asking as they come to the kitchen. You want to die already and it’s been three minutes.

Drinks are given and then you go through the usual how did you meets and other questions that you should have thought of how to answer before now. When it’s finally over you all move to settle in the living room.

For some reason your sister has become the Christmas Cheer Elf this year and she has come up with all manner of Christmas games and activities. She forces you to wear a headband with a Christmas bow on your head and for the first time since you entered the house you see a little smile in the corner of Severus’ mouth. He likes your bow, he pats it gently while the others are looking elsewhere. He is not asked to wear antlers like your father and brother. Your sister is not that bold, there are three pairs of antlers but his imposing stare means his is left on the side table unworn.

There are various games including drawing on a white board, or quickly unwrapping an absurdly over wrapped and knotted box, and your brother who is wildly competitive makes sure that you and Severus never get to play on the same team, he smugly shoves you across to play with his girlfriend, who you like just fine, but you wish he would let you side beside the man you brought home. It’s a family policy that couples can’t be on the same team in games. The rule never bothered you before now, you have an absurdly strong need to protect him from your overbearing family.

The last game she has up her sleeve involves wrapping each other up like presents and Severus says he will participate only if you can be the one he wraps. This is deemed okay because clearly your brother feels that he can then wrap his girlfriend which leaves your sister wrapping your mom and dad will be called out from the kitchen to judge the results.

Severus uses magic very subtly, not outright cheating but assisting. The paper seems to curve around your body with a skill that your family does not possess. It pleats and folds under his fingers crisply, fitting into the curves of you like it was a garment seamed to your measurements. He wins of course. Your father is hard pressed not to choose his when your mother and brother and currently looking like Christmas mummies and you stand and in a paper dress and hat that is flawed only in that it is covered in snowmen.

Finally after all those activities things seem to settle down and you are able to just sit beside him on the sofa and listen to your family chat about things. You offer stories too when you can, thought it always seems odd to talk about life when yours was so different. Severus was quiet but actively listening, they could all tell so they did not fault him for lack of proffering his own.

Dinner passes without incident. The evening is pleasant enough, though you both sigh in relief together when your bedroom door is closed for the night and you are alone for the first time in hours. Severus and you curl up together in your bed, a bit smaller than the one you usually share but he insists you don’t magically expand it, he says he wants to live the muggle way for the night but you think he just wants to cuddle. You say your good nights, give him a kiss on the lips which feels some how explicit even behind closed doors and switch off the muggle lights. The bed creaks horribly as your weight moves over to the lamp and back.

Severus’ arm comes around you like you are expecting it to, after a moment in the dark it starts to move around. His hand pets up and down your waist and it’s comforting, with your eyes closed it kind of feels like you could be in his bed instead, but even this small movement makes the tiniest noise in the old springs holding up your mattress. You try to relax, try to give in the pull of sleep but that hand slides over your hip then down to your thighs. His lips press in on the nape of your neck and suddenly you’re breathing his name in a mix of arousal and scolding.

He is persistent of course, as are his lips. You find yourself panting into your pillow before he even puts his hand under your clothing. You gasp when he finally forces his way under your knickers, you were trying not to let him in. You need him to stop, but when his fingers dive in you feel the dripping wet heat of yourself, shamefully aroused for him already. “We can’t do this here” you whisper, he answers by pulling your leg up and over his legs so that he could stay in spooning position and have access to sink his fingers into you.

“You’re so wet for me, sweetheart. I think you do want to do this here… It will help you sleep.” He whispers as he slips his fingers inside of you. He moves his hips forward, forcing them deeper inside you and making the bed creak a little all at once.

“Severus, I just need to get my wand to cast a muffling spell.” you whisper, trying to reach for the bedside table but unable to get to it the way he is holding you.

“This trip is about embracing your muggle side, darling. Muggles have to fuck their partners very quietly in their parents house it’s a right of passage.” He tells you, voice like silk slipping over your skin while he mercilessly exploits how your body is reacting to his touch. He fucks you with two fingers until you are paintings and trying to contain the very small whimpers that you couldn’t stop from slipping out no matter how much you scolded yourself into silence.

Just when you realized you were about to come apart for his skilled fingers they retreated and you were surprised to feel the bed move, and hear it squeaking as he released himself from his pyjama trousers. You were about to whisper ‘no way’, the bed was too loud. You wanted to tell him no, but he was not lying when he said how wet you were, he slipped in without difficulty, you made a noise of surprise as he filled you up. Then he shushed you. HE SHUSHED YOU in your OWN bed, when the noise was because of his cock. The audacity of him.

He keeps his hand around the front of you, fingers resting on your clit gently, he knows he does not have to do much, the pressing of his hips into yours make your body stimulate itself against his resting fingertips. Each gentle drawing of his hips back and forth makes the springs of the bed quietly plunk and squeak, they are not too loud, you think, you might not be overheard unless someone was standing in the hallway.

“You’re such a good girl aren’t you? Going to send me to sleep satisfied, mmm?” He whispers to you as he starts to pump you harder. The bed begins to squeak in a way that you feel is far too loud. You try to use your hand to grab at his hips, to tell him to keep it slower, softer, but he doesn’t. “You feel so good, sweetheart. I want to feel you come around me.” He whispers.

“Severus please… the bed… it’s too loud… muffle it.” You beg him.

“No.” He grunts. “Roll over onto your belly and put your fingers on your clit you naughty girl.” He growls into your ear.

Powerless to resist him, you do as he asks, the bed squeals in effort as your body weight shifts. You tell yourself that it would squeak even if you innocently had rolled over in your sleep, and the family can’t possibly be thinking it is anything more, but you can’t make yourself believe it. Severus straddles your legs, grabs your hips and pulls you up to him, pressing the head of his cock to your very wet entrance between your tightly pressed together thighs. You bite your pillow as he pushes in in this position.

He seems to have found a position he can thrust in without making the bed squeak too much. As he slowly raises and lowers his hips your body weights stay mostly in the same place and the bed is not overly loud. “You keep protesting but your body is clearly aroused by the danger of being overheard. You’re dripping around my cock.” He says into your ear.

“Oh my god…” You whisper into your pillow. Your panting begins to have a little bit of breathy grunting mixed in.

“Are you going to come on my cock like my good girl?” He asks before increasing the pace and making the bed groan as he picked up his weight to do it.

“Oh god oh god oh god oh godddddd.” You’re chanting into your pillow. There are equal amounts of horror at the increasing noise of the bed and pleasure as his faster grinding into your g spot. It is going to make you come. “I’m- I’m…” you pant but you can’t even speak. He seems to give up on any semblance of letting the noise of the bed hold him back as he grabs your hips tightly and fucks you into the mattress hard. Knowing the noise of it is indisputably sexual if anyone was overhearing it horrified you, but sound of his breathing as he approached his climax reinforced your own pleasure and then as his hot come filled you, your body spammed around it, exquisitely arousing to feel his release inside you and so naughty to have done it here.

He tried to gently, quietly, extricate himself and settle back down beside you but it was all sort of squeaky and loud and you knew there was no way you couldn’t not make the risky trip down the hall to the washroom at some point. So decided to nip it in the bud and go right away, to your horror your sister is in there filling a glass of water.

“Naughty list.” She scolds as she passes you. Your face is hot with embarrassment. After you clean up you splash cold water on your hot face and that’s when you hear it, your bloody parents in their room, a soft and subtle beat of something. You cringe and speed walk back to your room, closing your door softly and trying to find the bed in the dark, over confidant that you know your old room like that back of your hand you hit your shin off the side of the bed and hiss in pain.

Severus collects you from the side, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you in, kissing your lips and folding you into the bed, messing up the covers horribly as he drags you into the centre of the creaky old thing. There you snog him happily, not worrying about the noise of the bed anymore as you are happy to know that you likely got away with it, as long as your sister can keep her mouth shut. Given you know for a fact how she used to sneak out of the house all the time when you were you teenagers you think the secret is probably safe.

When you finally break apart from kissing Severus says “Merry Christmas” as he pushes your messed up hair off your face. As awkward as it has been, you are happy to finally be in his arms on Christmas Eve.

[verlaines-corner-archive]

I sent this to you on your other blog bc I forgor it was t ur writing blog 💀

What do you think are mori’s top kinks?

I’m interested in what you think

Mori kink hcs

 -> hmmm doctor man

Drugging -> A big fan of aphrodisiacs, whether he’s on the receiving end or not doesn’t really matter to him. Mori likes seeing you needy, without shame, but equally likes being so (more than he already is at least). 

He also likes drugs that put you to sleep, leaving you completely defenceless to him. Don’t worry though, Mori is big on consent and safety, so all drugs you’re given possess no negative/lasting side-effects. 

Knife play/blood play -> This is a big one for him, very much so. Loves the way you shiver under the coldness of the knifes blade, the slight fear lingering in your eyes as he lightly drags it alone your chest and stomach. 

He likes cutting there too, albeit only light cuts. Shallow, but still drawing blood. The sight of it does wonder to him, and despite how unsanitary it is Mori always finds him lapping at the wounds, sucking and licking them to draw whatever blood he can. Always makes sure to patch them up afterwards though, so don’t go worrying about infections or anything.

Pet play -> This one is somewhat light! Mori likes seeing his lover in cat ears/tail certainly, but isn’t a fan of cages or making you meow, and he also has no interest in making you eat out of a pet bowl either. Mori does however, hold a keen liking for collars and leashing. Calls you his “little pet”.

Lingerie -> Mori is a fan of dressing you up and having you look pretty (prettier than you usually do, that is), so lingerie is a no brainer for him. He’s a fan of more girlish sets, nice pinks with lace and frills. Something cuter as opposed to sexier. He also doesn’t mind wearing lingerie either, though he prefers to wear shades of red and purple. 

Submission (giving) -> Mori obviously has a lot of control, so being able to forfeit all of it and not worry about anything - even if it’s only for a night - is like heaven to him. He wants to be bossed around and told what to do, the idea that someone as powerful as himself can be reduced to nothing more than your bitch is intoxicating to him, the reality even more so. 

[youngwonhui]

✦ dance of the swords

*•. member: Jeonghan x gn readers

*•. summary: you were in a path of revenge. In your venture to obtain incriminating data of the company, Jeonghan, the illegitimate son of the CEO caught you by surprise and took you away. Little did you know that his next action will surprise you even more

*•. genre: angst

*•. wc: 1,8k

*•. warnings: none

“Let me ask you something then.” Jeonghan looks down to the stacks of paper on his desks. Hidden company data that simply wouldn’t do any good to the good name of the company.

Might as well put a big red tape with the words ‘Corruption’ it might not convince the media of the truth behind the dirty parts of his father’s company. Jeonghan subconsciously pulls the collar of his Loro Piana sweater. The soft material never felt so suffocating, yet Jeonghan enjoys this moment altogether.

You kept your breathing straight. Eyes never leaving the smirking figure of Jeonghan, now his eyes turn a shade brighter. Maybe it’s just the light. There’s a familiar glint. You spend enough spying around the office to recognize this particular trait of the CEO bastard son.

You had prepared every consequences that will follow this dangerous venture. Revenge are never risk-free and you’re determined to lurk around this company for any leads that will help you put a light on the truth of this company that took everyone you ever loved. A measly CEO son who treat the place like a playground just to pass his time isn’t going to easily stop you from your plan.

“Your question, sir?”

“Sir? That’s new, you never call me that.” Jeonghan glance at you before he leaned back on his seat, lacing his fingers leisurely, however he failed to control the ever-growing smirk on his face. “Ah, question, that’s right. I’m guessing this document doesn’t magically found it’s way into your pretty bag there? Wait i can answer this. Of course not, because to access this particular document you’ll need to pull a few strings up top. And i mean half of the board which i doubt you’ll managed, seeing that you only begin to work around…?”

You drew an exasperated sigh while Jeonghan continues to trail his gaze around the room and finally to you as he made his way around the obnoxiously large desk. What’s more obnoxious are the sound of Jeonghan’s expensive leather shoes paired with the tapping of his playful fingers on said desk. Million questions ran through your head as you perfectly aware it isn’t a coincidence that Jeonghan had manifested himself right outside the hallway after you had manage to secure the document.

You planted your feet straight, as now Jeonghan stood right in front of you with an indiscernible expression hanging off the usual bright complexion often posted by the mainstream media. Leaning against his desk, you kept your eyes against his. Refusing to back down, seeing as he hasn’t call any form of security to drag you off the property, a thought popped up on your mind that Jeonghan might have a different thought for your action.

Yet your question remain unanswered.

“I’m not gonna lie and pretend i don’t know every little detail and background about you. I’m also not gonna lie that i don’t have a little inkling of what you might have in plan with this incriminating documents.” Oh how you wish you could wipe those smirk off of his beautiful face.

By now you can’t help the little side eye that you give to him. The CEO son just chuckled at your crumbling fortress. By this point you wondered if this is just the shakedown Jeonghan is playing so he could impress his father. You took a deep breath and steel your will, straightening your posture and reminding yourself of why are you here in the first place.

Revenge.

There’s no doubt that the air and tension around the two of you could easily choke anyone without clear understanding of the situation. Underneath the silence and above the small ticking noise of Jeonghan’s old wooden clock, somehow you could find the rhythm to his slow breathing. His chest slowly moving behind his crossed arms. Not that you were staring at that particular spot. You were keeping an eye on him. Readying for the next blow. Because being interrogated like this surely will not be the only obstacle you found in this long road you had planned.

“If it is revenge you seek, i have an offer to make.”

Jeonghan’s soft voice caught you by surprise. More than the words he uttered, which both piqued your interest and raise the alarm at the same time.

“What do you know about revenge?” You found yourself asking.

“I don’t know much. But i feel like you do.” Jeonghan kept his eyes on yours, tilting his head ever so slightly. Inviting.

He’s dangerous. You kept reminding yourself. The mere fact that he’s off of your radar are what brought this obstacle altogether. If you had kept a close eye on him, you would be walking free with the much needed documents and further into your plan. And yet here you are.

You could dance around the tension built. The fact that Jeonghan manage to somehow figure out what you’ve been doing yet he’s so far from your attention are saying something about Jeonghan. For whatever reason he’s been willing to hide the fact that you are in the midst of smuggling incriminating data to the outside world. 

Judging by the fact that you’re not in a bigger problem yet.

Yet Jeonghan is already a problem enough. You just didn’t know how much, and his offer sounds more like a poisoned apple. But an apple still. Alluring.

“Whatever it is you’re offering, i don’t need it.”

“You haven’t even heard it.” Jeonghan argues. You hate how he’s enjoying this. “As i said, you seemed to know a lot about revenge. I know a lot about this company. More than any average money hungry old geezer of a board member at least. And i know you need help. What good is a revenge when you can’t even smuggle out a little document without getting caught by me.”

“Are you offering a way out or trying to be knight on a white horse?”

“We both perfectly know that i’m not honourable enough to be a knight. I’m merely offering an olive branch. Since we seemed to be headed to a similar path.”

“I’m not interested for your help. As much as i know of revenge, i don’t need to owe anyone anything. Moreover owe you.” Jeonghan briefly looks down at the accidental condescending tone you give. You regret nothing though if he’s being candor, so can you.

“So you’re stubborn. I like that.” Jeonghan muttered under his breath.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Apology accepted.” Jeonghan straightened, you can’t help to lightly chuckled at the situation. “As i said we’re going to the same path. So how if it’s like this, i’ll be your hired gunman. By your order i’ll shot the gun so that your plan goes smoothly without obstacle. You know, grease the gear a little.”

You couldn’t help but to be amazed at the polarity of his sentence. What could he be planning behind this offer. How could he said such words with a smile on his face. Words that might help you bring down this rotten company to ashes. He’s willing to stomp on those ground.

“Why do you want revenge?”

“That might be a talk for another time.” Jeonghan kept his composure. “I’ll be whatever you want and i’ll do whatever it is you needed. You have your obstacle, and i have mine. We’ll clear each other path so it’ll be easier for both of us.”

“What if i refuse?”

“Well, i was hoping you wouldn’t say that.” Jeonghan clicks his tongue before straightening up and stuffing his hand to the pocket of his trouser. No matter how heated the air has been between you, the cold breeze of the room and weather still gets to him. “Then i’ll find another way of revenge. Although i hate to be the one to stop yours.” His other hand move faster to picks up the phone on his desk.

In frantic, you unknowingly moves and stop his act before he could follow through. While being successful to keep Jeonghan from calling anyone important, you hadn’t planned the close proximity resulted from your action. You could feel Jeonghan’s cold hand in your hold. For some reason you can’t let go of it. In fear of him doing the deed or it just felt right to held his hand down.

You could sense the small smirk blossoming on Jeonghan’s face—hell, by this close proximity you can even feel the slight movement of his breathing. The warm puff of air he exhale right into your temple.

Slightly tilting your head to look at him, you took a deep breath before planning for the next step forward. Now with Jeonghan in the mix. You couldn’t lie he make a good addition to smooth out the small wrinkle in your plan. But the possible consequences of him being Jeonghan continues to throw you into the shadow of doubt.

You’ll have an easier path to your revenge but you’ll be dancing a tight line alongside a man with hidden intentions.

“What’s your next move?” Jeonghan whispers lowly, yet it rang so loud into your eardrum. You could feel his gaze. All the brown and glint of somewhat madness. It looks so clear up close.

It should scare you, but you can’t help to join in his dance.

You realize this is no longer your plan. As of this moment, you play right into his hands and now it became both yours and Jeonghan’s plan. Volatility and collateral damage be damned.

“I don’t like gunman.” You replied, sliding your hand off of his. Giving him the benefit of the doubt as a sign of agreement. Your first move. Strangely Jeonghan looks a little disappointed, when he lost the touch of your hand. “I prefer swordsman. Agile, skilful, and undoubtedly powerful.” You whispered those words straight into Jeonghan’s ear, which fall short to his neck. You could spot the slight jolt of his shoulder, which he quickly regain his composure and school his face back to his default disarming smile.

“I’ll be exactly that for you.” Jeonghan raises his hand to your face. Stopping a mere millimetres of your cheekbone. You held back your breath, but didn’t move away. Jeonghan took this to close the distance and graze your skin softly. As expected his hand felt as cold as it looks. His touch was brief, it left you somehow wanting for more. Jeonghan lowered his hand as an invitation. “I’ll join your dance. We’ll even talk to the dead. They’ll fear us.”