#and of course as the dom youre trusting THEM to read everything thoroughly and be honest with you if they have questions or reservations

[asexual-vampire]

Okay so obviously like that post I just reblogged says it's important to put effort into learning about kinks you want to participate in no matter what role you're going to be playing in them.

THAT BEING SAID I genuinely think it would be so fun if my sub was like "hey I want to do this new thing but I don't know much about how to do it safely and properly" and then they gave me like a week or so to research it for them and create a paper/presentation that explains all the important information in a way that I know they'll understand, complete with resources for if they have follow up questions about anything specific

[kingdaddydaichi]

NSFW Alphabet || Katsuki Bakugou

I had so much fun with this! Vodka may or may not have been involved in the making of this little ditty. 🍸 I hope you shameless hussies enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it. 😩

*Exhibit A:

(Source)

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

I feel like he gets clingy asf, but plays it off like it's something he's doing for your sake. He'll probably never admit that he feels so vulnerable after sex, but he does. If it was a rough session - which it usually is with him - he'll ask if you're okay, if you're hurt anywhere, kiss any marks he left on you - he's such a protective hero boi.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His: he's not gonna lie, he's fully aware of how well-endowed he is. He really is proud of his cock, the way it makes you sing when he works it - and he knows how to work it okay? Favorite non-sexual body part - his arms. He works hard to keep them cut (as in lifting, not cutting). 😬

Yours: listen, Katsuki is an ass man through and through. Go ahead and tell me I'm wrong, I'm 👏🏼 not 👏🏼 listening 👏🏼. He loves to watch the subtle ripples he sends through your ass cheeks when he's driving into you from behind. Also, our big scary boomboom man appreciates a nice, thicc pair of thighs. Bonus points if they're muscular/toned - he loves the way it feels when your thighs have such a strong grip around him.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Let's just say our boy's orgasms are explosive. He cums hard and loud, shooting long ropes of his hot seed. Consistency is about average, not too thick, not to thin, but there's a lot of it. He doesn't taste too bad - salty, but not too bitter. You're more likely to gag from the sheer volume and force of his cum hitting the back of your throat than the flavor.

His precum gets honorable mention here. It's fucking delicious. That is all.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

It took him no less than 2 years into your relationship to tell you this, and if you ever tell anyone he might actually kill you, or at the very least make your ass bleed. He hasn't gotten to the point that he's ready to try it yet, but he's not entirely opposed to the idea of you pegging him. Someday. It kinda does make his balls tingle a little just thinking about it tbh. He hasn't yet, but he thinks he might be ready to try working up to it and is really close to asking you to stick a finger in his ass and stroke his prostate. He's heard how good it feels and he's super curious to find out for himself.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Not very experienced, actually. He's only had 1 or 2 lovers before you, BUT he's determined to be #1 at everything. Couple that with how perceptive he is and you've got yourself a winner of a loverboy. He's going to make damn sure that, even if things don't work out between you two, he will always ALWAYS be the best you've ever had. No other man will outdo him, E-V-E-R.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Doggystyle all the way, baby. As stated before, he loves watching your booty jiggle every time he slams his hips against it. He gets off on spreading your ass cheeks to watch his slick-coated cock slide in and out of you. God he just loves hitting it from behind, makes his dick so fucking hard.

Bonus 2nd Favorite Position (couldn't help myself): you on your back with your ankles on his shoulders, your ass lifted off the bed, him on his knees and hugging those thick thighs of yours, keeping them closed as he reams into you. (Slight variation of this one: he leans over you, nearly folding you in half, putting you back on your shoulders with his hands pressing into the mattress beside you, angling you such that his prominent corona rubs over your g-spot as he drills down into you. 10/10 you're gonna scream his name when (not if) your liquid gushes all over him.)

Tell me the truth, am I a disgusting human being? Here are all the fucks I give:

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Bakugou is serious asf about his sex game. This is not the time to joke around or poke fun at him, understand me? If you do he will get pissed and either fuck the silly out of you, or if he's feeling particularly ruthless he'll just stop altogether and let you ache for him as punishment until you beg him for release.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He takes care of his body, paying a lot of attention to his hygiene, which includes manscaping to keep his pubic hair trimmed and kempt. The carpet's just a shade darker than the drapes, like a honey blond. If he lets it grow out, it sticks straight out just like his head hair. It's actually kind of funny and he hates it.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

*sigh* Let's be honest. Katsuki is not the super romantic type, at least not outwardly. However, if he realizes something he's doing is hurting you - physically or emotionally - he's going to stop dead in his tracks and hold you close, push his fingers through your hair, and tell you how much he loves you and how safe you are. He can be rough and he can be an asshole, but if he thinks he's genuinely hurt you at all, he's all over you, doing everything he can to make you understand that he will never let anyone hurt you, especially not himself. Got that?

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He doesn't jack off very often. You two share a very active sex life so he doesn't see the need to. If you have to be apart for more than a day or two, he'll rub one out. Or if the need hits him particularly hard and you're not available or in the mood, he's not above closing his eyes and reaching into his pants to wrap his thick fingers around his cock and start tugging.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Lord Baby Jesus, where do I even begin? Kinky, kinky Katsuki. This man should come with warning signs and disclaimers.

First of all, he dom asf okay? Even if he lets you play with his ass someday, he's gonna be bratty about it. He's going to top from the bottom, hashtag facts. And trust that he WILL own you afterwards to securely reestablish his dominance.

Giving and Receiving: Hair pulling. DIRTY TALK - you think he's got a potty mouth in the streets? His mouth is downright filthy between the sheets. Loves it when you dirty talk right back to him. "You love taking my fat cock, don't you princess?" "Mm yessss, fuck me, Katsuki! Your cock feels so fucking good babyyy!" He eats that shit up.

Giving Only: Degradation. Praise. Spanking. Cockwarming. Dom/sub/power play. Shibari/ropework (he tried it bc you wanted to and he fucking loved it). Creampies. Begging. Discipline. Ravishment.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Literally anywhere inside your home/homes - bed, bathroom/kitchen countertops, kitchen/dining table, office desk/chair, any piece furniture is fair game really, up against a wall, washer/dryer, the fucking floor, ugh just all the places to fuck. Not one square foot is sacred tbh.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Wear something that showcases the curve of your butt. Doesn't have to be revealing per se, matter of fact he'll get possessive as fuck if you're showing too much skin in public. At home/privately though? He can't help himself. Dat ass tho...he is going to smack it hard enough that it stings and that's final, understand?

Tease him. You can't be obvious about it though. If he senses that you're doing it on purpose, it'll just backfire. But if you just so happen to brush against his crotch when you squeeze past him, it'll drive him crazy. Go commando in short shorts/skirt and cross your legs just so, his dick will twitch. Even better if you do shit like this in public where you know he won't act on it. But when you get home you best believe he's going to dick you down so hard, won't even bother to take said shorts or skirt off.

His ears and neck are his most sensitive erogenous zones. Whisper in his ear or kiss his neck and he's going to grit his teeth in an effort to fight back the shudder that threatens to rattle his bones.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Let's get one thing straight. Katsuki Bakugou does not share. This is non-negotiable. He will not agree to anything involving additional people - cuckolding, threesomes, orgies, exhibitionism, voyeurism (unless it's him watching you pleasure yourself - that he will gladly do, and probably start palming himself in the process).

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Loves giving and receiving. Giving puts him in full control of your pleasure, receiving makes him feel like you're worshipping his cock, which you probably are. Have you seen this man's cock? Of course you have. Gatdamn.

Y'all, Katsuki's so good at eating pussy. Like how does one get that good at eating pussy? I don't even know, but god the way he flicks his hot tongue over your precious, tiny bud before wearing it down like a fucking feed bag? It's unnatural. Like it could be his backup quirk if blowing shit up doesn't work out. You've seen the way he licks his lips when he gets excited, everyone has.* He doesn't even bother swallowing while he's feeding on you so you just be dripping in slick and saliva and he's just slurping away. It's lewd.

*See Exhibit A above.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

You already know this, but I'll say it anyway. His go-to fucking style is fast and rough, dominant and relentless, hard and dirty. But every once in a while he'll want to take you slow and deep and passionate. He'll hold you so tight in his arms and chest, you'll have to tap his shoulder sometimes to let you breathe. And he'll just roll his hips so fucking thoroughly both of you will feel every last inch, his pubic bone rubbing your clit so hard. You've told him so many times how much you love it when he makes love to you like this, but he maybe makes it a rare treat on purpose. 😈 Little shit.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Quickies are difficult for our boy. It's not that he's against them, it's just that he savors every drop of sensuality, he has a tendency to draw the pleasure out as long as possible. He can’t help it.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

The idea of having public sex turns him on, but he's only done it with you a couple of times when he was 10000% sure you wouldn't be caught. He can't risk doing anything that would tarnish his reputation and goal of becoming the #1 Hero. He might be freaky as hell, but he needs a sex scandal like an Alaskan needs a refrigerator.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He loves you long time. He's a Taurus for fuck's sake (well, Aries/Taurus cuspie, but that just sweetens the deal). Great stamina. Grinds you down like a whetstone. Can last as long as he needs to to ensure you cum for him as many times as it takes for you to beg him to stop. If he feels himself getting too close while you're blowing him, he'll stop you and go down on you instead. If he's inside of you, he'll pull out and start kissing all over your body, sucking, nipping, licking until his urge to cum passes, then he pushes it right back in and keeps going.

If on the off-chance he does cum before you, he'll be ready to go again in about 20-30 mins. Just give him some motivation, he deserves it.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He didn't own any toys when you first got together, but you did. He hated the idea of you using them though, especially when he's right there with you. You've since assured him that you don't want to use them to replace him, but to enhance the pleasure. So now you do use them from time to time.

The first time you managed to coax him into using a toy together, it was a small wireless bullet with a remote. When you brought it out and showed it to him, there was a wild glint in his eye. He carefully inserted the vibrator into you, his cock slowly following suit. He loved the fact that he had complete control over this thing, but later complained because the sensation of it against the head of his cock made him cum too fast. He still wants to use it sometimes though. 😏

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Oh he can be so unfair. He loves teasing you until you're begging him to put his cock inside you. He's not so much into orgasm denial per se; he just loves to hear you beg him for shit - to let you cum, to suck his dick, to stop fucking you when you're overstimmed, etc.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Lol he's fucking LOUD! And he's going to make you cum so hard that you're screaming his fucking name. There was a time when one or both of you lived in an apartment and the neighbors would bang on the wall behind your headboard.

Shit, what sounds does he NOT make? He growls, moans, grunts, groans, yells, swears, fucks you so hard you can hear the wet sound of slapping skin, hell even the bed protests. Another reason he doesn't fuck in public - he can't stay quiet enough to be discreet about it.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Okay, as much of a wild sex beast as he is behind closed doors, he gets embarrassed so easily when your sex life is so much as hinted at around others. It's legit funny how flustered he gets about it.

If he goes into work real tired and Kirishima says, "Hey Bakubro, you look like shit this morning. You and (y/n) stay up too late?" while doing the finger in the hole gesture, Katsuki will just "Shut the fuck up, Shitty Hair, or I'll blast your ass right through that fucking wall!"

Or if you two go out together with friends and the girls are talking about sex-related stuff, Katsuki will just roll his eyes and try to ignore it. But if one of them is all "So, (y/n), does Bakugou ever like accidentally let off explosions while you're doing it?" and you wink and say, "Only when he's especially *cough* frustrated *cough*". Katsuki will go red from his neck up to his hairline and start stuttering, sparks flying from his palms. "H-hey, d-don't tell them sh-shit like that! I-it's none of their god-goddamn b-business, (y/n), what th-the f-fuck?!" Meanwhile, you and the girls are in stitches while he stomps away, just mortified, bless his heart. When you catch your breath from laughing you'll follow it up with, "Looks like tonight's gonna be one of those nights", and you all lose it again.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

As has been mentioned, Bakugou's well-endowed. I figure he's packing about 7.5-8" in length x just under 2" wide. He takes some getting used to, that's for damn sure. Oh, and he's more of a shower than a grower. Like around 6" long x 1.5" wide when flaccid. Katsuki + sweatpants/basketball shorts = swinging dick print, alright sis? Take notes, this motherfucker visibly jumps when he does, class dismissed.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Eh, he's surprisingly not ridiculously horny. Maybe a little above average sex drive? A lot of times hero work just takes it out of him and he comes home utterly exhausted and just needs a soft place to land, and you provide him with all the love and nurturing in your heart. ❤

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Depends, really, on the time of day and what type of day it's been. If it's late (like past 9pm lol) and he fought more villains than usual that day, he's probs gonna pass out pretty soon after. If it's earlier in the day - especially first thing in the morning - it gets him pumped and almost comically genki.

[mydearjonah]

The Magnus Archives & MBTI Part 1 -- Jon & Martin

Hello. When I was a depressed 19-year old, I hyperfixated on the Meyers-Briggs personality typing system in an effort to solve all of my interpersonal problems.(1) It didn’t work, but ever since then I have been cursed both with deep, useless knowledge and searing, useless opinions. In the hopes that sharing my terrible burden with others will allow me to one day find the rest I so desire, I would like to introduce you today to what is, as far as I can tell, the first dedicated MBTI typing post in this fandom.(2) 

The hyperfixation ran deep, so I am trying to make this as intelligible as possible. If you so desire it, this is a great general resource for typing. If you have opinions or thoughts, PLEASE share them. Much like a fear avatar slurps up people’s trauma, I am sustained in part by healthy, albeit occasionally heated, debates over MBTI types. You should have seen the time I typed Kanye West on Reddit.(3) 

Jonathan Sims -- INTP  Confidence Level: 90% Certainly (at the very least): IxTx

It is easy and tempting to type Jon Sims as an INTJ. After all, he certainly fits many of the stereotypes: bookish, awkward, out of touch with his feelings and his environment, with a tendency to come off as overly critical. I am not saying that this typing is necessarily wrong, but I do not think that it should be taken for granted.

Jon is clearly an introvert and a thinker (IxTx). It is tempting to type him as an intuitive as well, but I caution against this and suspect that it is an example of intuitive bias. Certainly I do not believe that he has the kinetic knowledge and energy of an ISTP – he hasn’t done a single damn thing in this entire podcast to make me think that he has any higher-level grasp of Extroverted Sensing (Se), the function an ISTP uses most confidently to interact with the outer world – but, if INTJ is in consideration, ISTJ should not be written off.

ISTJs and INTJs use the same auxiliary function, Extroverted Thinking (Te), to interact with their environments. Te is often characterized as being cold, clinical, unfeeling, and pragmatic: essentially, how Jon comes off in the early series, especially S1. The difference between them is their dominant function, or their primary way of existing and processing information. ISTJs are led by Introverted Sensing (Si), which is best conceived of as a “web” (haha) of past experiences and sensory details that a user can access when making decisions. INTJs are led by Introverted Intuition (Ni), which is a largely unconscious and abstract style of pattern-sensing which feeds a user insights about the world around them. For Jon, I think that fair arguments could be made either way for dom Si or dom Ni. Does Jon rely more on what has come before (ISTJ) or what may come next (INTJ) to guide his thinking? It could be either, in my opinion, and it is especially difficult to tell because the Beholding itself is an EXTREMELY Ni domain. As the series progresses, Jon’s choices and behavior are colored so thoroughly by his patron that it is difficult to separate evidence of natural Ni intuition from plain old Beholding intuition.  

So, with this in mind, why have I typed him as an INTP of all things? It all comes down to the INTP’s inferior function, Extroverted Feeling (Fe). Your inferior function is the thing that you use but aren’t very good at – it tends to be what gets you into trouble. Fe is best understood as a natural awareness of other people’s emotions as well as the privileging of group values over individual values, so inferior Fe users tend to be sensitive to other people but not super great at actually interacting with them. It is tempting to type Jon as an IxTJ because he comes off like a high Te user at first, but it’s pretty well-established at this point that he’s projecting that persona due to his insecurities. This, in my opinion, is classic inferior Fe. He knows that there is a broader group expectation for his behavior in his new position, but he is (a) too out of his depth to project it naturally and (b) not savvy enough to find a middle ground so he overcompensates and comes off like an asshole. So many of his interpersonal problems stem from this same issue. He clearly cares deeply about group values, other people, and their opinions of him but he struggles to read social situations well and is then caustic as a defense mechanism.(4) So much of his emotional growth has been about him being softer and kinder, even as he grows more monstrous, and to trust others, especially Martin… that’s an inferior Fe narrative.

Once you’ve nailed INTP as his type because of the inferior Fe, I think that everything else falls into place. INTPs lead with Introverted Thinking (Ti), which is a logic-based, internal system of categorization, and they interact with the external world through Extroverted Intuition (Ne), which is a creative, abstract, “idea machine” approach to environmental analysis. In essence, INTPs are logical, systems thinkers (Ti) who basically try out new ideas by throwing them at the wall and seeing if they stick (Ne). I think that describes Jon far more accurately than the IxTJ approach, which tends to be far more reserved and calculated.

Martin Blackwood -- ISFJ Confidence Level: 70% Certainly (at the very least): IxFx

I have found Martin to be a particularly challenging character to type. After a great deal of thinking, and some helpful input from @twinliches, I have gone with ISFJ. 

Martin is an introvert whose primary mode of interaction with the external world is through Extroverted Feeling (Fe). He cares primarily about the group and is sensitive to its dynamic, he has a good read on other people’s emotions, and he is able to easily maneuver through interpersonal situations to his own benefit and the benefit of those he cares about. But what is this Fe working conjunction with? As a prominent Fe user and an introvert, Martin’s only two options are to have dominant Introverted Sensing (Si), which would make him an ISFJ, or dominant Introverted Intuition (Ni), which would make him an INFJ. So, does Martin rely on a “web” (badumtssh) of past experiences to connect with others (Si), or is he using a more unconscious, forward-thinking intuition to do so (Ni)?

It is extremely tempting to type Martin as an INFJ, but, honestly, I think that do so is an example of intuitive bias. His actual choices – how he moves through the world and comes to conclusions, the way that he relates to others, the things that he fears – strike me far more as dominant Si than dominant Ni. Although he may not always broadcast it, Martin is shrewd and observant when it comes to interpersonal relations, and his grounded, real-world knowledge of how people are acting, how similar situations have played out in the past, and what details others are missing is what allows him to so consistently outmaneuver the big bads. A Ni user may come to similar conclusions, but they just don’t get there in the same way. Martin is also invested in maintaining social harmony by providing a sense of stability, which is a classic ISFJ move. INFJs are more likely to promote social harmony by using their Ni insights and Fe people skills to actively influence group dynamics for what they believe is the better. Martin doesn’t really ever do that – instead, he works to make sure that everyone is taken care of, whether that means bringing them tea, dragging them out to lunch or for drinks, or sacrificing himself to the Lonely so Peter leaves Jon alone.

I anticipate that one potential criticism of my Martin typing will be in regard to the inferior function. ISFJs and INFJs have different inferior functions: ISFJs have inferior Extroverted Intuition (Ne), which means they can struggle with open-endedness and have a tendency to catastrophize, and INFJs have inferior Extroverted Sensing (Se), which means they struggle with being in touch with their physical environment and can overindulge in sensory activities. People with inferior Se often have difficult relationships with their physical forms, and Martin’s canon and fanon body image issues certainly fit the bill. But inferior Se users are not the only ones who struggle with their bodies, and, overall, I don’t think the INFJ’s broader function stacking fits Martin as well as ISFJ does. Plus, I think there is just as much, if not more, evidence for manifestations of inferior Ne from Martin.

To wrap it all up, here is my final Martin take: Martin is an ISFJ who, if he knows anything about the MBTI, thinks that he is an INFJ. He was probably accurately typed on whatever popular test he took, but he read some anti-Sensor bullshit that included a hackneyed portrayal of Si, thought “I’m not boring and conservative… I can’t actually be an ISFJ! I must be an INFJ.” For a time, he even has “INFJ” in his Twitter bio. Sometimes he wonders if he’s mistyped because he doesn’t totally relate to the stray descriptions of Ni-Se that he comes across… but he figures that, if he is, he’s probably actually an INFP. He really likes their whole aesthetic… artsy, sensitive, caring, intuitive, and his favorite poets are INFPs. What he’s really vibing with here is their Si-Ne, which he can relate to… because as an ISFJ, he also uses those same functions! If post-series Martin is alive (and living happily with his husband, Jonathan Blackwood-Sims, of course), I bet that his increased self-knowledge and confidence will allow him to solidly write “ISFJ” in that online bio. I want that for him. And for all of you ISFJs out there, too!

On a personal note, I also really love ISFJ Martin/INTP Jon in the context of the ship. ISFJs and INTPs use the same functions, just in a different order! They can connect by sharing their Ti and Si thoughts and insights. Jon can help Martin develop his Ne, and Martin can (and already has!!) help Jon develop his poor inferior Fe by giving him an example of a much stronger, far healthier one. It is just *chef’s kiss*

Up next: Jonahlias, Peter, and Gertrude!

--

(1) The actual answer to my interpersonal problems was therapy and life experience. Who knew!

(2) If I’m wrong, let me know. We all know how useless the Tumblr search function is, and I also couldn’t find anything indexed on Google besides the Personality Database. 

(3) Kanye West is an ESTP, btw. 

(4) I’m not saying that Fi users don’t do this, but I think you tend to see more & genuinely meant “I don’t give a fuck” from them because they’re operating a little more on their own wavelength. I’m not sure if Jon knows himself as well as a Fi user, even an inferior Fi user, does.

[zankivich]

The Arrangement: CEO’s Son/Dom!Shawn x Black Sub Reader Chapter 5

Hiya! This is the chapter when we get to figure out a little more of why Shawn is the way that he is. I’m not interested in villains for villains sake; I’m interested in complex characters in need of healing and kindness and also to maybe fight for themselves a little bit. I think this is gonna get very interesting if the thoughts in my head are anything to go off of. Also I try not to bug y’all too often but I am very very poor at the moment so if you did want to buy me a Kofi right here. That would be life changing. Ya girl got bills. K bye. 

WARNINGS: sex without a condom (gotta wrap it up folks), a mini panic attack w/o much description, and just some general softness. 

*Shawn’s point of view*

He’s in the studio. It’s his happy place. He remembered being eight years old, just barely big enough to climb into the seat, but finding something magical about the sound board. His nanny used to pick him up from school and he would beg her to take him to where his dad was working. They only started letting him go once they realized he’d stop throwing temper tantrums. He thrived there. He listened quietly and he learned about how to track vocals, how to create rhythms and what actual sound waves could look like for a vocal. And then he was thirteen, and his dad brought this guy in.

He was in baggy jeans and a green sweatshirt. His guitar had a plus sign on it, and there were scratches against the body where he’d strummed too hard. The sound guy told him his name was Ed Sheeran. He was there to sing for his dad. That day changed his life forever.

He went from playing soccer every day after school, to playing guitar and creating covers. His dad happily put him in the guitar lessons and the piano lessons and the vocal lessons. It was the outlet he never knew he needed, but couldn’t live without. Shawn was always thoroughly convinced he hadn’t been destined for much. Was never smart in school, never particularly passionate about anything either. And since the day he was born, all he knew was that his dad was powerful and his dad had money, and that meant one day he would have the same. Not because of who he was or what he accomplished, but because of who his dad was. Music changed that for him.

“Hey, pull back on the reverb?” He suggested to the producer. “It’s clouding the vocal. Trust me.”

There’s a guy in the booth. His dad’s new golden star. Niall Horan. His first album had done twice the numbers they anticipated, and so after a North American tour to test the waters he quickly pulled him in to try and do it again. That’s why Shawn was there of course. To oversee the creative vision, and “provide feedback”. What it really meant was, his dad knew he could determine what was good and what was bad, so why waste his time when he could have Shawn do it. As far as his dad was concerned, he should feel lucky that he was even allowed to be a part of the process.

“Aye, this is just isn’t feeling right. I’m coming out.” Niall said from the booth in his thick irish accent.

There’s a room of writers, but it’s actually pretty organic in comparison to some of the other artists under his dad’s belt. Two of them are friends of Horan’s from home, who had followed him along for the ride. He plops down on one of the couches and reaches for a guitar. His fingers pluck absently at the strings and Shawn can’t help but glance over there instead of filling out whatever dumbass report his dad was asking him to fill out. There’s a redheaded woman on the couch who started playing alongside him. Another guy uses his lap as drums, and they just start jamming with each other.

It’s electric. It’s that thing that made his stomach lurch like he was at the top of a rollercoaster. It’s what left him more at home in his own skin than anything else ever could. The energy in the room actually shifts. He swears he can feel the music. Like actually feel every strum in his fingertips as if its his hands on the guitar. It’s authentic and real and they’re just playing for fun.

But, somewhere in there he remembers that this is all he’ll ever get. Just watching from the sidelines while everyone else gets to play. It breaks his heart. It makes him sick to his stomach. So sick that he leaves abruptly in the middle of the session crashing outside and choking desperately for air. This is what he got. A noose that always felt too tight, with the hope every day that he just might get the chance to breathe. This was it for him.

***

*Y/n’s point of view*

Shawn: I need you.

y/n: That’s gonna be a little difficult. I’m in Miami, remember? First show of the tour for Grande.

Shawn: Well when are you coming back?

y/n: I’m staying through the first week of shows to make sure all the kinks get worked out. No pun intended.

Shawn: I don’t think I can wait that long.

You were walking past the merch booth getting set up and stopped to chat with some of the people working it. You had a lot of respect for merch booth people, depending on the show--and the pop shows were always the worst--shit could get hectic and fast. They deserved tons more respect than they got, and you were happy to show them some.

You peered down at your phone and read Shawn’s text over again. It felt a little off, even for him. You had gone stretches of time without hooking up before. There were times where he needed to be in LA while you stayed behind in New York, times where you had one show in one city, while he had one in another. It hadn’t been a problem before. You always just found time when the two of you available, and went from there. Shawn hadn’t ever pushed it further than that before.

y/n: everything alright?

Shawn: my dad is satan

y/n: well retweet sis! We been knew that.

y/n: Sorry. I wish I could be there to relieve the stress. If you wanna hop on a flight and meet me in Miami feel free lol

You head for the sound check, checking in to make sure that that stage was being set up, so that  meet and greet could go off without a hitch later. You nearly trip over one of Ariana’s dogs and die, but other than that it’s fine. There’s hours and hours of labor that have to go into a show before the doors ever open, before those kids every step inside to see their idol get up on the stage. It’s your job, along with a host of other incredibly talented and hard working people, to make sure that those hours seamingly don’t even exist. You don’t mind it. Back in the early days you used to go on whole tours to make sure your artists were taken care of. It wasn’t until you turned thirty that you realized slowing down a little bit was in everyone’s best interest.

When you’re not needed you set up in an office space to answer emails and check in with the office. The afternoon passes quickly, and before you know doors are opening up, and the kids begin to pile in. You’re backstage making sure the band and Ariana are good to go, when the tour manager comes up to you looking panicked and confused the way he always did.

“Hey, y/n! Sorry to bother you, but can I borrow you for a second?”

You clap hands with Ariana wishing her luck she won’t need before heading off with Mike.

“What’s up, Mike? Everything okay?”

He nodded. “Yea! It’s just that I got a call from the head of security at the back of the venue, and there’s a guest for you who doesn’t have a pass.”

“A guest for me? I don’t have any guests tonight. Did they catch a name?”

“It’s uh...It’s Manny Mendes’ kid? Shawn?”

“What?!”

Mike winced. “He uh, he told them you personally invited him. Guy must be charming, or they probably would’ve turned him away.”

Charming, your black ass. He was a nuisance is what he was.

“I didn’t personally invite him anywhere! Take me to this dumbass, please.” You groaned in frustration.

The whole walk there you’re just trying to figure out how the hell he managed to get here that fast! Who takes a back handed joke, and then actually follows through it? Shawn fucking Mendes. This man was going to be a thorn in your side for the foreseeable future. God, was he lucky his dick was big.

Sure enough, at the back of the venue at one of the stage doors, Shawn is sitting there with a couple of security guards. His hands rest easily in his pockets, and he’s telling them a fucking joke that has them laughing their asses off. Where was the justice?!

“Hey. Took you long enough.” He chuckled reaching for a duffle bag at his feet.

What was he moving in?

“Shawn what in the hell are you doing here?”

He stared at you incredulously. “You told me to come!”

“I was kidding! How in the hell did you get here that fast anyway?”

“Honey, we have a private jet. Surely that’s not surprising to you. What are you gonna turn me away at the door right now?”

Mike is still staring at you with nothing but confusion on his face. He probably had no idea you even knew Shawn Mendes, let alone enough to accidentally invite him to Miami. This was bad. This was bad, bad, bad.

Your gritted your teeth. “He is very unfortunately with me. Mike give him a pass.”

“Are you sure th--”

“Mike just given him the damn pass.” You sighed turning on your heel to disappear back inside.

Shawn keeps up with you easily with his obnoxiously long legs. Mike power walks behind the two of you ear piece and ipad still blaring.

“Mike you can run along before curtain call. I’ve got things here.”

It’s not an option. It’s a directive, and he quickly follows it leaving you alone with your headache of the day.

“You really call the shots around here, aye?”

“Little bit. Follow me.”

You lead him to the little office space you have in one of the green rooms, and quickly close the door before more people find out that the two of you are together. He takes a seat on one of the couches like he belongs. You want to pull your hair out.

“What in the hell Shawn?” You groaned. “We have rules. Very specific rules.”

“I know. Look, I know! But you offered, okay? And I couldn’t...I wasn’t gonna wait a week. I need this. I need you.”

That certainly was a little more honest than the two of you typically got with each other.

You paused to take a better look at him, and it isn’t the prettiest sight. The smile and witty laughter from outside was a thin facade to the bags beneath his eyes and the frown that’s evident now. He looks a little pale, like paler than usual, and if you didn’t know any better you’d say he hadn’t been sleeping well. You did know better. In fact you were starting to realize that maybe you knew him a little better than you gave yourself credit for.

You took a seat on the table in front of him, your legs knocking together in the small amount of space between you.

“What’s going on? And don’t say it’s just cause you’re stressed.”

He peered up at you, his fingers tapping anxiously against his thighs.

“Since when do you care? That’s not exactly within the parameters of our relationship now is it?”

You rolled your eyes. “Not all of us go through life only living based off of what we can take from others. I know it’s a wild concept to you, but some of us? Some of us can actually be decent human beings.”

“Great so I’m a piece of shit and you’re a saint, is that it?”

“Why are you trying to fight with me? Don’t be a child; stop deflecting. Just tell me what the hell is wrong, and maybe we can fix it.”

“You can’t fix it, y/n. I’m stuck. I’m always going to be stuck okay? There is no fixing me.”

He looked exhausted. And it wasn’t the hard day at work exhausted either. This looked bone deep in him. You couldn’t tell if this was something you’d just never noticed, or if he was letting down a wall for you to see behind for the first time. Whatever it was, you didn’t like it. There wasn’t time to work through why that was, or what it meant for you to care enough to want to fix it. You just knew that you didn’t like it. That’s all that mattered.

You reached forward, your fingers pushing at his knees to make more room for you to straddle his lap. His hands immediately came up to rest on your ass, and you slid your hand over his heart. It was beating like crazy. He just needed to slow down. He needed you to help him slow down. When you kissed, his fingers dug a little more deeply into the flesh of your ass. He groaned softly against your mouth and pulled you closer. It wasn’t necessarily that you didn’t kiss at all in the time that you spent together. Shawn had no problem dominating your mouth. It just so happened that in a relationship built on dominating your body there were a lot of other things you could be doing than kissing.

His lips were still heavenly though. He knew how to tug at your jaw, how to pull you in closer and run his tongue perfectly along the roof of your mouth. It was as intoxicating as all the other things he seemed to be able to do with his body. Only instead of quickly moving to the next phase the way that he usually would, he kept you there a while longer. His lips moved against yours and your arms wrapped tight around him. You could feel his shoulders release beneath your touch, could feel his hands relax against your ass. By the time he flips you to lay your body down against the couch, fingers already tugging to get his jeans down his thighs, your lips are buzzing, and you feel kind of lightheaded. You wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Tell me what you need.” You whispered against his lips. “Tell me how to please you.”

“Need to be in you. Right now.” He muttered reaching beneath your skirt.

His fingers found their way between the fabric of your underwear, gently nudging between your folds where you were already wet. He tugged the thing band down off of your legs and tucked them into his jean pocket.

He groaned softly plunging his middle finger inside. “You’re always wet for me. Know exactly how to be good for me.”

He curved up and to the right, rubbing quickly against your walls to get you where you needed to go. This wasn’t about foreplay. This wasn’t a scene. There was no plan here. It was frantic and a little messy. But you liked it. You liked it more than you knew what to do with.

“Are you my good girl?” He panted jerking his finger up and down to touch the thing inside of you that made you thrash.

“Yes. Yes, I am. Please, Shawn. Please?”

“The faster you cum, the faster I can get inside this pussy.”

His bicep tensed and his breath came out in harsh pants against the side of your neck. His fingers won’t stop, won’t let up, and your body gives him exactly the reaction he wants every single time. It’s like magnets. Like he knows exactly how to touch you to make you scream. And you do. Always.

His thumb rubs circles on your clit and your body practically melts. Your back arches and your moans get higher as your orgasm hits. Not one to ever be outdone unless it’s by himself, Shawn withdrew his fingers and immediately pushed his way inside of you. The stretch alone in conjunction with the weight of him pressing you down into the couch was enough to heighten your orgasm to a place it’d never been before.

“You’re so fucking tight, shit y/n.”

“I can’t fucking breathe--Shit! it’s so good!”

The arm of the couch provides a kind of leverage you couldn’t get if you prayed for it, and Shawn’s taking full advantage. There’s something different in the way that he handles you. He’s a little more desperate than you’re used to. His hips are less skilled precision and more broken lunges. But you love it just the same. Push your hips up against him chasing something similar, chasing a high that will take you both straight off that cliff together.

“I love being inside you.” He whimpered against your chest. “Nothing feels like you. Wanna give it to you so good.”

“You do. You fucking do.”

His teeth sink into the flesh of your shoulder and it drives you up a fucking wall. You dig desperately into the couch with your heels and cry out for him. It’s fast and dirty and not at all like what you’re used to. It’s just him, just him in all your senses. And you just wanted to give that back to him tenfold.

“Want you to cum for me again. Want you to come while I shoot my load in your pussy.”

“O--Okay. Okay I’ll cum, just please keep fucking me just like that. Please, just like that”

He pushes himself up onto his knees and moves your thigh up so that your knee is pressed against the arm of the couch. His dick doesn’t even make sense at this point. It’s like amnesia. Dick amnesia. But, he does this thing where he twists his hips every time he pushes his way back into you, and it makes you cum like a waterfall. And the second you’re cumming, his thrusts deteriorate into quick, rugged slaps against your sex. When he peaks, it’s euphoria for you both. Absolute Euphoria.

For a while neither of you move except for the pounding of your hearts in unison with one another. You can’t feel your toes, and it’s so sensitive to feel him inside you in this way. It’s not just good sex it’s a feeling that he gives you in wide abundance. You feel complete with him on top of you. Sated and fulfilled and taken care of.

“Wow.” He chuckled leaning down to kiss you roughly. “That was incredible.”

You giggled. “Yea. We’re good at that. Real good.”

He slides off your body and disappears into the bathroom for a few minutes. He comes back with some damp paper towels and cleans tenderly between your legs.

“It’s not my egytpian cotton, but it gets the job done.” He chuckled.

He already looks entirely different. There’s color in his cheeks and his eyes have that obnoxious sparkle shit that they do. You like him a lot better when he looks this way. And there’s a part of you that feels a sense of pride at being able to bring that out of him.

“Thank you, kind of.” You snorted softly.

You fix your skirt while he pulls his jeans back up. You can’t help but notice you managed to yank the neck of his t-shirt horribly out of place somewhere in the midst of your climax. The least you can do is grab him one of the merch shirts. It hits him in the face when you toss it, but that’s at least a few more seconds you have to calm the hell down.

“What’s this?”

“Figured we didn’t want people asking questions. Put it on, I’m sure there’s still some more of Ari’s set left.”

His eyes widened a little and he stared back at the t-shirt before looking back up at you.

“You want me to stay?”

It’s your turn for your eyes to widen and for the ground to become more interesting.

“You don’t have to obviously. You got what you came for. Ari, just puts on a really good show.” You mumbled.

“No I--I’d love to see the show. Haven’t seen her since Coachella.”

He changed quickly out of his t-shirt, sliding on a God Is A Woman shirt instead. The outfit change is a good one in your estimation.

“Great now give me my underwear back.” You murmured resituating your lanyard that got you in everywhere around your neck.

“Oh. Yea, no.”

You looked up at him and there he was leaning against the same part of the couch that he’d rammed you again not ten minutes ago. His long legs crossed in a similar fashion to his arms across his chest. That confidence was just obviously roaring in his system all over again. He was back, just like that.

“Excuse me?” You asked, eyebrow raised and pointed.

“I’m gonna keep them. Kinda want you to think about the fact that you won’t have any panties on all night, and I’ll be the only one who knows. Every time you have to yell at someone to do their job right, every time someone from the crowd bumps into you, it’ll just be you and I who know that you’re my good little girl. So I’m gonna keep them until I’m ready to give them back to you.”

And just what in the fuck does someone do with a speech like that?

“Yea….okay.”

You leave the greenroom behind in the hopes that no one will be able to tell what was done in there that night. Instinctively you reach for his hand and tug him along behind you to get the pits. It’s a sold out show, so there’s definitely a hell of a lot of people there, but you make it work nonetheless. With only the first half of the show missed anyway there’s still plenty of talent left for him to see.

At first you thought that you needed him to see what you were capable of. Ariana was all talent, all vocals, and iconicism, and magic. But, it was you that brought it all together, you who coordinated every little piece to make sure it all ran together without problem. Before you met Shawn, before ever deciding to do the little arrangement he schemed for the both of you, there had been a need to prove yourself. It came with the territory as a woman, let alone as a Black woman in a white male dominated industry.

Something happens in the middle of the show though, when the moon hangs from the ceiling, and her voice is belting out through the whole arena. You peer up at him watching the show, and there’s no ego to be had. It’s not like when other music execs come to visit shows, and they're just looking for a way to upstage you. He’s just there. Enjoying every note and letting the vibe of the crowd fill him in that way that you loved and cherished about live shows. It’s the first time outside of the bedroom that he eases the tension for you, that he gives you a sort of metaphorical pat on the back to say, “you don’t need to stand tall. Put that away for right now.”

You take a deep breath and let your head rest against his shoulder before there’s even room to think about it. Before you lose the moment, before the tension finds a way to ease back into your body, he wraps his arms around your waist from behind. Ariana keeps singing. The crowd keeps screaming. And he doesn’t let up until the lights come back on.

***

“Where are you staying tonight?” You asked, trying to pay attention to the break down of the venue happening around you.

“Wherever you’re staying I guess.”

You peered over at the way that he was leaning against one of the barricades, still dressed in his God Is A Woman shirt, with a smirk upon his lips.

“So fucking cocky, all the time.” You snorted. “I’ve got a lot of work left to do here. I’m always the last to leave from a show.”

“That’s fine. You want me to head up to the hotel, or should I wait behind for you?”

“You’re really staying huh?”

“Told my dad I’m doing research. I think he’s found a new intern to screw, so he’s not really checking in at the moment. I could use a little vacation.” He hummed. “You want me to go?”

You bit your lip and ran your fingers over your waist where his hands had touched. It was dangerous letting him in like this. You knew it. You had to know it.

“No I don’t want you to go.”

He smiled softly. “Guess I’m not going, then.”

“Guess not.”

“Besides if I left?” He murmured stepping forward to cup your hip intimately. “When would you ever get your thong back?”

Bastard.

It’s well past one in the morning before you get to leave. Your feet hurt and you really need a shower and the hotel can’t come fast enough. There’s a car around back waiting for you, and Shawn trails right along side you with his louis vuitton duffle bag that again just reeks of unnecessary indulgence, but you let him have it this time. The soft leather seats of the BMW and the gentle shake of the car is enough to lull you towards sleep. You were the queen of sleeping on cars. Touring life was perfect for you. What you weren’t used to was having someone beside you too as you made yourself comfortable.

“Are you falling asleep right now?” Shawn chuckled.

“I’m just resting my eyes.” you mumbled heading leaning back against the headrest, eyes closed. “Don’t worry, I’ll be plenty well rested for sex later.”

“Yea...Okay.”

*thirty minutes later*

“Honey, wake up.”

“Mmmm...No.”

“No?”

“No. I’m comfy, Ti. Leave me alone.” You whined snuggling deeper into her shoulder.

“As much as I have a feeling Tianna could kick my ass, I don’t think our biceps quite look alike. I am definitely not Ti.”

Your eyes popped open in shock alerting you to the fact that you wrapped your whole fucking body around this man’s arm and he had done nothing to stop you. The gal! The injustice!

“What are you doing? Why did you let me do that?” You gasped detangling yourself from his grasp.

He rolled his eyes. “I didn’t ‘let’ you do anything. Your body tends to have a mind of its own. Apparently even in slumber. We’re here though, princess.”

Sure enough the hotel is there staring back at you from the window. You had really fallen asleep. And he had let you.

“Shit. Okay. Let’s go.”

The hotel room is neat and pristine. You won’t be there nearly long enough to do any damage to it. Shawn places his duffle next to yours and starts his routine that he always does at night. His watch comes off. The bracelet. The rings. And it is insane the effect that it has on your body. Your spine straightens. And he turns to look at you over his shoulder, curls extra fluffy without any product in it, and it just runs through your body like a fucking current.

He makes his way over to you and his fingers skim your chin like it’s fine. Like he’s not shirtless in front of you with a six pack and perfect wisps of chest hair. You kind of wanna ask him if the women he sleeps with ever don’t want to get undressed in front of him, but then a yawn leaves your lips and that thought gets left far behind, along with the moment.

He smiled at you softly and tapped your cheek.

“Look you’re exhausted. Why don’t we just wait for the morning. It’s no big deal.”

You wrapped your hand around his wrist to keep him with you.

“It’s fine. I swear.”

He shook his head. “No. It’s really not. Let’s go to bed.”

“Shawn--”

“I said consent at all times didn’t I?” He interrupted. “You’re too tired to consent. We’re not doing it.”

Too tired to consent. That was certainly a new one.

But the way that he settled himself into his side of the bed told you negotiation wasn’t an option. And you were fucking exhausted. So, you crawled beneath the blankets and let your body relax for only the second time that night. How odd for it to be that both of those times were because of Shawn? And what the hell did that mean?

His scent was in your sheets. It was on your skin and in your nose. He was there. This all consuming force that just seemed to fill the space around him infinitely. To the point where you barely felt like you fit in the bed beside him. And yet he sometimes looked so small that you wondered how he could ever fill any space at all. You couldn’t ignore the look on his face in the green room. The exhaustion. The smallness. What was up with that? And why were you thinking of him so damn much anyway?

“You’ve gotta shut your mind down to actually fall asleep.” Shawn mumbled from somewhere in the dark.

You rolled your eyes. “Thank you for mansplaining sleep to me.”

“I’m not--just...Look, what’s on your mind?”

“Nothing. What makes you think there’s something on my mind?” You asked defensively.

“I just can hear you fucking thinking from all the other way over here. Why do you have to be so stubborn all the time?”

“I’m not stubborn!”

You had one of those out of body experiences where you actually hear yourself speak, and it subsequently proved his point. Rude.

“It’s genetic.” You murmured softly. “Sorry. I guess I uh I’m just not used to having someone else sleep in bed with me.”

“Well thank you. We fall asleep after fucking most times though?”

“Yes well there’s a difference between being fucked into a coma and just lying beside the person.”

He took a deep breath. “Do you want me to leave? I can just go get another room.”

“No it’s fine! It’s fine. I swear. I’m just...adjusting.”

“Fine. You...adjust, then. I’ll try not to breathe too much and disturb you.”

It was a long night.

***

*Shawn’s point of view*

The sun fills the room and it’s a complete and utter nuisance to him. Too early. Too bright. Too not cuddly. So he snuggles his face back into the warmth and ignores it for a little while longer. It’s the most well rested he’s felt in months. So well rested that he doesn’t want to leave, doesn’t want to be without this warmth that he’s never felt before. And why would he? Why would he ever want to leave this?

He opens his eyes and all that he sees in brown. Cocoa brown with deep red undertones that light up beneath the sunrays. It’s the first time he’s ever woken up before her, her mental clock seeming to always pull her out of bed before his dick is even awake let alone his mind. The fact that she’s asleep is a miracle within itself. The fact that he gets to look at her while she does it feels like maybe a little extra miracle on the side.

There’s a freckle on the divet in the small of her back that he’s never noticed before. Her bonnet to cover her hair is the same color as her nails and there’s a part of him that needs to know if it was a conscious decision or not. Knowing y/n, it could go either way. The covers had slid down her back and he’d wrapped himself around her at some point in the night. And it was somehow the best night sleep he’d had in so long. No sex. No ropes. No lube. Just sleep.

He wasn’t dumb. Something was different. Something had been different from the very beginning. His hooks up didn’t sleep over. He didn’t fly to anyone, ever. Hell, he didn’t even drive to anyone. Uber was practically part of his foreplay in life.  How the fuck did he end up in miami grabing her waist while Ariana Grande scerenaded them by fucking moonlight? He didn’t do this. He didn’t grab hips if he wasn’t fucking. He didn’t tell a woman he’d rather sleep then have sex with them. He needed to end this. And fast.

However . . . she was still asleep. And the sun was still just coming up. So what was really the harm in lying there a little longer? He pressed his arm back over her waist, thumb rubbing smoothly into the skin of her tummy. He’d get up in just a minute, would end it in just a minute. For sure.

*three days later*

“I will be back in less than a week.” She says.

“It will be over in no time.” She says.

“Stop fucking biting my thighs while I’m answering work emails!” She says.

After a break full of rushing her off to different rooms with locks on them in the venues so he could get his head between her thighs, it was finally over. His dad had finally called to ask why the hell his new Director of Talent Management was nowhere to be fucking found. It was time for him to leave, which meant days before he would see her again. Which was fine. Totally fine.

“So hear me out,” He argued as they drove to the final venue, he’d get to see her out. “I just think maybe Tianna should be taking me into account when she’s making your schedule. That’s all.”

She snorted. “I am not going to ask that woman to schedule dick appointments for you.”

“They’re not for just me! I’m thinking of you here too. Had I not taken off from my busy schedule to come to Miami, you might have actually combusted.”

“Women can go longer than twelve hours without sex Shawn. It’s yall who act like the world will explode if somebody doesn’t touch your dick for two seconds.”

He rolled his eyes at her. “I’m just saying it might be nice to know that you’re gonna be gone for weeks on end, ya know?”

She peered over at him from her phone where she’d been working away. She seemed to work harder and longer than anyone he’d ever met. Even more than his dad, which is explained why he couldn’t stand her.

“You could always...hook up with someone else while I’m away.” She said.

Her eyes are curious, watchful. There’s something behind the question that she’s asking, but he doesn’t know that on account of him being stupid. All he knew was that women didn’t just offer up the opportunity to sleep with other people. Even his past hook ups grew easily attached. It was his main reason for never repeating. Who was this woman?

“What makes you think I’m not, already?” He asked trying to match her eye contact.

She bit her lip. “The fact that you’re here right now.”

“Are you...hooking up with other people?”

“What if I was?”

He broke his gaze, not having it in him to keep staring at her. She was definitely stronger than him there.

“Whatever. Wouldn’t matter. ‘Snot like we’re together.”

She nodded. “Exactly.”

“Yea, exactly.”

The rest of the ride is silent. She was getting dropped off at her venue to continue on with Ariana through the rest of the week. He was heading back for NYC to get back to work. It would be a few more days before she flew back home. But, that was alright. He could wholeheartedly find other things to fill out his day. He didn’t need her at all.

The car pulls up to the arena and she pauses before she exits the car. She looks back at him like she’s waiting for something, like she expects him to say anything else. He doesn’t know what to say, just completely goes blank under her stare. She smiles at him.

“Goodbye, Shawn.”

“Bye, y/n.”

***

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@disaster-rose @sinplisticshawn @kamahriii @thecurlsofgod @lifeoftheparty74

Arrangement Taglist: 

@moonlightmendes22  @iloveshawnieboi @iloveshawnieboi @shawnsblue @cottoncandyshawn

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[something-tofightfor]

Billy Russo: NSFW Alphabet

Here it is. This took me a LONG ASS TIME to finish... and it’s the first NSFW Alphabet that I have ever completed... so I took my time on it, and was very, VERY thorough. 

This is VERY 1000000% TOTALLY NSFW. 

Do not read this if you’re under 18. This is not for you. There is some mild BDSM content included here, and some potential triggers... if you’re concerned, feel free to message me and I can tell you what’s going on before you decide to read. 

Everything’s under the cut because I literally cannot help myself and started things out smutty as hell. 

This is Billy as I imagine him in the He’s Not Here universe. 

... oh, and um, enjoy K. 

Rating: NSFW 

Word Count: 8972 (I told you I was thorough.) 

Disclaimer: I don’t own the character of Billy Russo, but I wish I did.This is all still in reference to the man Billy is before Season 2 of Daredevil and Season 1 of The Punisher. 

Tagging:  @banditthewriter @breanime @obscurilicious @padfootagain @madamrogersstorytelling @ooo-barff-ooo @agent-bossypants @suchatinyinfinity @chibiyanai @songtoyou @doneobrien @diorskisses @editboutique @marauderskeeper @drinix @delicatelilyflower @ilkaeliseb @snek-shit @personthatlovesshippings @httpfandxms @ghostssss

A=Aftercare - What they do/act like after sex

For most people, after sex, Billy shuts down. He doesn’t cuddle, doesn’t like excessive touching, and has no interest in small talk. He completed the mission, and it’s time to move on. He won’t kick women out of bed in the middle of the night, but if he’s ended up at a woman’s place, he usually (although not always - if he enjoyed himself, he’ll spend the night and go for round two in the morning before he leaves) finds a reason to leave.

With you, though, Billy’s a little different. You’ve earned his trust and his friendship, and that means that you get to curl up in bed next to him, his arm around your waist. He likes it when you run your fingers through his hair as you both calm down. He’s not romantic about it, but he never fails to tell you just how great you feel when your muscles clench around him, or how fucking good you looked beneath or on top of him.

B=Bondage - Are they into BDSM, and how far they’ll go if they have a green light

Billy likes restraining you, but he’s not 100% into being held back with anything more restrictive than one of his ties or your scarves… or your hands. Even though he’s much stronger than you, he’s willing to let you hold his wrists down while you’re riding him. He learned to tie knots during his service time, and loves to show off his skills… but what he really wants to try is tying your hands together above your head and fucking you while you’re standing. He’s strong enough to support your body weight with one arm, leaving the other free to explore every inch of your exposed skin.

Also, he convinced you to let him blindfold you once while your wrists were tied and now every time you smell his cologne - even on other men - you can’t help but get a little lightheaded… or resist the urge to press your thighs together.

C=Cum - pretty self explanatory

Billy hates feeling dirty or sticky, but he makes an exception - sometimes - when you’ve worn each other out. Not through the night, he always has to get up and clean himself (and you) off before he’ll let either of you fall asleep. Typically, though, since he is very careful to always wear a condom during sex, things aren’t that messy… but if you get a little too excited and he has to pull out before he comes, or you’ve decided to use your hands or mouth on him? You’ll get to feel his hands stroking over every inch of your skin as he cleans you up to his satisfaction.

D=Dom - Are they dominant, submissive, a switch?

Billy Russo is as dominant as they come - and loves to give you orders, which you are more than happy to follow. There’s something about listening to him barking out commands - “Sit down. Spread your legs.” - that makes you weak in the knees. But he doesn’t give you time to dwell on what he says, because once he gets going, there’s no stopping him. It only takes four words - “Get over here. Now.”  - and you’re lost to him… but he doesn’t like to take complete control every time you’re together, because it’s more fun to be spontaneous.

E=Experience

Even though Billy’s been with many women, (you��ve never asked for an exact number and wouldn’t dream of it) and knows exactly what to do to your body to set it on fire, it still took you two a few tries to fall into the perfect rhythm.  His prior experience had been with women who were all too willing to fall straight into his bed without any context, and because he’d actually known you and wanted to make sure things were different, the experience he had almost didn’t matter because your first time wasn’t quick and dirty - he took his time with you. The one thing though, that you’re sure of is that all of his prior experience has made it possible for him to delay his own pleasure for longer periods of time in order to ensure that you’re thoroughly satisfied.

F=Fantasy - A fantasy of theirs (ex: a teacher/student fantasy)

Laying in bed with Billy one night, his cheek resting on your bare chest, you’d asked him what his ultimate fantasy was. He rolled over, turning his head to look at you. “No one wants to know what my fantasies are.” He raised his eyebrows, smirking. “They just want me to fulfil theirs.” You laughed, telling him that you really wanted to know, that you couldn’t make it happen unless you knew where to start. “Alright. You really want to know?” You nodded, your nails raking across his scalp as you smoothed his hair back. “It’s pretty simple. I want to fuck someone in a place that means something to me - that’s a symbol of my success.” You frowned, and he continued. “Not my apartment, that’s boring… but somewhere else. The facility?” You knew he was referring to the building he wanted to rent for the company he was planning to start. “On the training mats, or on the equipment… maybe even using some of the equipment” His eyes had darkened. “And then, that way, every time I look at it or use it, I’ll know.No one else will, but I will.” He licked his lips. “It’d be a good memory, enough to get me through the hard days.” Though you were surprised that he hadn’t done that yet, hadn’t brought a woman to his office, or been with anyone in a public place like that, he wrinkled his nose and shook his head, beard scratching against your skin when you voiced your response. “I like to keep my personal life and my professional life separate, never wanted to take anyone there. Well, I did… but there just wasn’t… anyone worthwhile.”

You’d been almost asleep later that night when he spoke again, leaning over to kiss you just beneath the ear. “My real fantasy, though?” He whispered the words and you didn’t move, didn’t respond because you knew that if he had any indication that you could actually hear him, or that you were awake that he wouldn’t continue. “My real fantasy is someone being capable of loving me for what I am, not what I can give them.” He settled back into his pillows on his side, one arm going over your waist. “I might even be able to care for them, too.”

G=Got Caught - How they react when they get caught having sex

Billy’s not shy about his sexual encounters, and he’s actually been caught plenty of times. Quickies in bathrooms, hooking up in the coatroom of a restaurant, some girl going down on him in his car… none of it phases him, because Billy is 100% totally unashamed about sex and about what it means… because it’s just for pleasure and release, and there’s not much emotion behind it for him. Does he enjoy it? Of course… but to Billy, it’s not something that should be hidden, because sex is just that: an act. Yeah, his face turns a little red and he might get a bit annoyed if someone catches him in a compromising position… but he’s still more than capable of finishing even when he knows there’s a captive audience.

Except with you. He doesn’t want anyone else to see you with his hands on your body, doesn’t want anyone else to get an eyeful of you when the two of you are being intimate - because that’s for him and no one else. He’s not against touching you in public, teasing you with a hand on your lower back or resting on the curve of your ass - or even lower, when his fingers brush against the backs of your thighs beneath your skirt-  but as soon as he thinks that someone might be watching, it’s back to business as usual, and you’ve gotta wait til the time is right for him to finish what he’s started.

H=Hot Spots - A place that drives them crazy when stimulated

Billy’s got a lot of these spots, and you’ve had the pleasure of finding them for yourself.

For example:

He’s got a thing about his neck. He loves it when you run your fingers through his beard, scraping your nails against his skin. He loves it even more, though, when you use your teeth and tongue on the same area, moving up from his Adam’s apple toward his jawline. He’ll throw his head back and moan your name, digging his fingers into the skin of your back or shoulders, depending on your position.

Billy also thoroughly enjoys when your hands are on his hips and your fingers move to that perfect V of well defined muscles. Not only does you tracing circles against his skin soothe him, it tells him that something even better is about to happen. Though you’d be content to have your fingers against his skin for hours, Billy’s impatience usually leads to sex quite quickly, and then he’s totally fine with you going back to touching him once you’ve finished.

One final thing? Billy gets weak in the knees if you’re holding hands and you use your thumb to draw on his palm. It happened one night at dinner when you were out with Frank and Maria, and ever since, it’s been your “in public” go-to move ever since, and you know that a few swipes of your thumb get him hard as hell.

I=Intimacy - How romantic they are, or can be, before, during, or after sex

Intimacy with Billy isn’t the same as it is with other men, because even though he’s romantic in the sense that he anticipates what you want and need, it’s more about the friendship that you’ve built with him. He’s good with dates - remembers your birthday, the day you met, etc… but he’s not about grand gestures, at least when it comes to proving his feelings. To Billy, intimacy means honesty - and when he opened up about his past with you, that was more intimate than the previous hours he’d spent inside of you or with his mouth on you.

J=Journey - Their ideal way of leading up to sex.

Billy likes to toy with you, but you know that pretty much anything can (and will) result in sex. The lead up is almost as good as the main event; Billy’s good at getting your attention, but it’s not like he does anything out of the ordinary. It’s the small things, the subtle things that he does to work you up, to get you to notice him - as if you could ever ignore him.

It starts with the looks he gives you, one eyebrow raised across the table (or sitting next to you at the bar or on the couch), the way that his tongue doesn’t ever seem to stay in his mouth for very long… it’s always making its way across his lips, poking out between his teeth as he laughs or smiles. It gets more intense when you notice his fingers moving against each other; sometimes with flat palms, other times lacing together as if he’s stretching them out (...and those fingers get very dexterous when they’re ready to go).

From there, it’s all about the eye contact. Billy’s a master at giving you bedroom eyes… especially when you’re out in public; that smoldering look from deep within eyes that are so dark you can’t tell where the iris ends and the pupil begins - but when he’s looking at you and thinking about you beneath him, it doesn’t matter, because no one has ever looked at you the way that Billy Russo does, and you know that no matter how many other partners you’ll have in the future, no one ever will again.

The fact of the matter is that Billy’s a master at using his own body language to get you ready to go - and then once his low voice fills your ears, be it at a normal volume or rasped into your ear, asking “D’you even know what I’m gonna do to you?”, well he’s already won. With him, it’s not about the touching or the physical foreplay; you know what Billy looks like beneath his clothes and what he’s capable of… it’s about what’s on the outside and what he can do with a few simple movements or mannerisms… it’s his behaviors, the unconscious actions that get you truly worked up.

K=Kinks - list a few of their kinks, be they the normalized ones or kinkier kinks.

Three things: knives, sensation play and … well defined collarbones?

Yes, you’re reading that right. Billy Russo has a thing for a woman with pronounced collarbones. You figured that out the first night that you wore a strapless dress with him - on the first date you went on after sleeping with him - though you’d noticed him constantly finding ways to touch your shoulders and clavicle, even before he’d seen you without clothes. He hadn’t been able to take his eyes off of you that night in particular, and as soon as you’d gotten back to his place, you’d found out why.

“C’mere.” Reaching out, Billy took your hand and pulled you close to him, nuzzling his face against your cheek. “Let me take care of you.” Whispering into your ear, he’d lowered his head to kiss the top of your shoulder, his fingers moving on either side of your neck before he moved his hands to your waist to hold you in place, hip to hip.

You thought he was going for your neck, but to your surprise, Billy’s lips hovered over the base of your throat before dropping down to touch your skin. He moved back outward toward your shoulder, following along against the ridge of bone that was clearly visible beneath the skin, lips parted as they traced against it. You felt his tongue too, hot and wet and joined by his teeth as he nipped at your skin, first on one side of your body and then the other. “Fuck.” He was whispering against you, the hot breath against the dampness left by his mouth making you shiver, and so when his mouth finally stopped moving, you didn’t know what to expect next. “Was that alright?” He was panting and you could feel his… level of interest against your body, his hips rocking gently against you. “Fuck, I can’t… shit.” And then his mouth was on you again, teeth closing with a bit more force against your skin and your hands were in his hair and you didn’t know how anything could feel better… until, of course, that dark head of his made it between your legs for the very first time.

As for the sensation play…. Billy likes to experiment with hot and cold. Ice cubes being moved against body parts are one of his favorites; he loves using them against your breasts, teasing the nipples into hard peaks before taking them into his mouth to warm them back up, or simply running the cold squares up and down your stomach, letting them melt against your abdomen just to hear you gasp before he dips his head down and licks the liquid from your skin. And his fingers, cold against  and inside of your warmest place? There’s nothing else like it. He loves when you tease him with ice, too - sucking on the cubes to freeze your mouth before you use your tongue along his length… but he likes warmth more.

And you’re only happy to oblige his simple requests for candle wax in the bed; though you were afraid it would be too messy, too painful, he assured you that it wasn’t… and he was  right. The first time you’d tilted the candle over his sternum, straddling his hips and  watching as his eyes locked on the flickering flame - dark and hooded - you’d been afraid that when it finally dripped down, he’d be mad… but he’d been the exact opposite. His hands fisted into the blankets and he hissed through his bared teeth up at you as the liquid touched his skin and began hardening, his hips rising to meet yours as he arched his back. “Again. More.” This was trust - and Billy gave it to you freely…. So you did exactly as he asked, feeling yourself begin to come apart as you watched him do the same with every single drop of red wax against his pale, perfect skin.

When it comes to knives, Billy Russo is something of an expert. You see it in his eyes when he’s eating dinner and he focuses on the blades that he uses to cut his food, when he’s cataloging his weapons in his apartment, his fingers moving across the serrated edges of the knives as he cleans or sharpens them… but there’s something special about his KA-BAR, the handle well worn, blade still as sharp as the day it was issued. You’ve seen him play with it, testing the weight in his hands, twirling the point against his palm or on the surface of a table, and something about the action; the idea that one slip of the razor sharp edge could put an end to anything in front of it - especially in his hands - to see how lovingly he handles that knife as if it’s an extension of himself… really gets you in the mood. And so, one day, you decide to bring it up to him after a particularly intense fuck while the feeling of his fingers at your throat is still in the forefront of your mind.

“So.” You cleared your throat, running your fingers across his bare chest, the sparse hair there damp with sweat. “So.. Billy.” You wanted to ask, wanted to bring it up, but now that the opportunity had presented itself, you were nervous. “Um.” You cleared your throat again, eyes cast downward at the sheet bunched over his waist. “Have you ever, um... “ What is this? Would he even be interested? Is it… weird? “How do you feel about knife play?” He sucked in a breath and immediately his hands found your face, turning it toward him as he sat up in bed, eyes wide.

“What did you ask me?” His tone was unreadable, but his eyes were blazing. “Knives? In bed?” You nodded. “I never… that’s not something that you bring up on the first night you’re in bed with someone; that shit would scare most people away.”

“So, is that a no?” You were bolder now, seeing the rise and fall of his chest as his breathing became more rapid. It’s a no. But he’s… not turning it down. “No knives? I see how you look at them when you’re…”

“I’m interested. But… why?” His voice had gotten more gruff, his tongue moving across his lower lip. “You… would you trust me?” Yes.

“I don’t know why. But… yes.” You were surprised at how strong your voice was and you reached out, fingers curling against his chin, which was barely covered in stubble. “Yeah, I think it’d be pretty fucking great.” He smiled, but it was a cold smile, a smile that took him out of the room and far away - but the warmth never left his eyes. “You seem to… like blades, and…”

“I do.” He sniffed, nose crinkling. “I like them very much.”

---

Two weeks later, you were in bed with him at his place, both of you almost nude when he’d stopped, kneeling over you with his hands moving against the skin of your stomach, just above the waistband of your panties. “So.” He licked his lips, cocking his head to the side. “So, about those knives.” Your breathing sped up, and he smirked. “You still interested?” You nodded emphatically, and he did too, reaching over to the side table and opening the drawer, producing a blade that was much smaller than his typical knife… but still at least four inches long. “I looked into it.” He held the blade up, allowing it to catch the light from the street lamp outside the window. “I wanted to make sure we could be safe, so we’re not using my knives, those have… seen and done too much. This one isn’t as sharp, there’s less of a chance for breaking skin.”

“Billy….” You breathed his name, eyes focused on the blade glittering in the semi-darkness, but he was focused on the blade too, bringing it down to rest flat against the palm of his hand. And then he looked back at you.

“I got some ground rules, though.” You nodded, your lips parted. “Nothin’ near your face or your neck.” Ok, that’s … yes. “I ain’t gonna restrain you at all. This isn’t about fear or domination. Maybe we can work up to that, but…” His features softened. “I don’t wanna scare you. I’m not gonna get off on your fear.” You nodded, your lips still parted, and then he transferred the blade to his other hand, putting it down against the mattress before he leaned in to kiss you hard, his tongue plunging into your mouth. “You want me to stop, you think it’s too much, you use the word…” He paused. “Anvil.” Another nod from you. “Alright. Prop yourself up on those pillows.”

You did as he asked and then he scooted backwards, resting on your thighs as he leaned forward, lifting the knife up again. He started with it just below the hollow of your neck, pressing down with the tip slightly - just so that you could feel it, and you inhaled sharply at the sensation, feeling the cold blade against your skin. He was still smirking as he spun the blade, trailing it down between your breasts, tilting it so that the entirety of the blade’s width made contact with your skin. You were panting by the time he reached your navel, and his eyes were locked on the movement of the knife, entirely focused on what he was doing. You thought that you were going to combust by the time he’d finished with the skin of your abdomen, scooting even further back down your legs, his stance widening.

The blade turned in his hand and slipped beneath your pantyline, the metal cold against the sensitive skin there and you bucked your hips - and he for the first time touched you with his hand again, pushing you back down against the mattress. “Spread your legs.” You did so without question, and he removed the knife from beneath the elastic, passing it from one hand to the other. “Remember. Anvil.” But as you were nodding, the blade dipped between your legs, and the sensation of the cool metal against the inside of your thigh -  first one leg and then the other, running from the apex of your thighs almost to your knees and then back up - slowly, so slowly - had you moaning from deep in your throat, and you had to fight to keep your eyes open because watching him watch you was the biggest turn on in the entire universe.

Billy was watching intently, and you could see just how aroused he was, the outline of his length well defined against his light colored boxer briefs as he moved his hand. “Billy, fucking hell.” Your words were a whisper, fingers tangled into the blankets beneath you - and he continued to drag the blade up and down, alternating between using the edge and the tip, fast and then slow, and his breaths increased in frequency. I’m going to come without him even touching me, this is insane. As the thought crossed your mind, he pulled the knife back up, looked at it and then raised his eyes to yours. You’d never seen them so dark, and if you hadn’t trusted him so completely, you would have been terrified.

“You like these?” He used the knife to indicate your panties, and when you shook your head no, he grinned at you. “Good.” He swiftly returned the blade to its former location, sliding it back beneath the left leg opening and turned the sharp edge upward. With a quick jerk of his hand - and a gasp at the coolness against your skin again - the material separated in a straight line. Oh Jesus. Billy lowered the blade again, using it to move the lace out of the way, exposing you to him. He paused, and then an almost playful smile crossed his lips, his eyes focused on the area between your legs. “Get ready.” He adjusted his position and lowered himself onto his chest, propping himself up on his elbows between your legs… and then the knife was back, the flat side of the blade pressed against your entrance and you gasped, moaning his name again.

After a few moments, Billy removed the knife and then raised it in front of his face, looking at you over it. Without breaking eye contact, he turned the knife so that the sharp edge was facing you and in one movement, licked along the entire length of the blade, his eyes rolling back into his head only as he got his first taste of you. You barely had time to register what you were looking at before you - distantly - heard the knife clattering against the wall and the floor and he surged forward, diving back between your legs.

You used knives a lot after that, and things even got a little more dangerous a time passed.

L=Location -  Where they like to have sex at, do they like risky locations, etc.

Risky, no. Public? Yes. Billy isn’t against pinning you (or anyone, for that matter) against the wall to kiss you senseless, but he’s not about to willingly remove all of his clothes in a very public place. He likes the safety and confines of his spaces - the car, his apartment, anywhere comfortable. Billy Russo has worked hard to ensure that he can be comfortable when he is having sex. While location is something to consider, Billy won’t pass up an opportunity to get laid, even if it means that he has to be a little creative about where… and how it happens.

M=Masturbation - How they are when they get themselves off, what they get themselves off to.

Due to his time in the military, Billy’s learned the art of masturbation - he can get himself off in less a minute when he’s really in a hurry, but he’s able to prolong it if he’s watching something interesting… like you, touching yourself in front of him. When he’s alone, it’s quick, clinical and specifically to find release… but if you’re in the room, everything changes.

Billy doesn’t need any visual aids; he’s got enough mental images of you and his past partners to get the job done. But if he can hear you? That makes him come even faster, even if he can’t see you, which is why he’s taken to calling you for some audible “help” when he’s got to stay late at work or you’re busy planning an event.

N=NO - A few things that they will absolutely, under no circumstances, ever do.

Billy will not, under any circumstances take part in sexual encounters that are with drunk women. He won’t take advantage of a woman’s lack of control - he knows what it’s like to be misled and used. He will not simulate acts of violence like kidnapping, rape, torture or strangulation. He’s willing to apply a little pressure to your throat (and fuck do you love it when he’s got his fingers there), but he won’t let it get to the point of true pain. He won’t ever hit you, either.

Billy will also not entertain the idea of bringing a second man into the bedroom, though he’s very open to having a second woman… since there’s more than enough of him to go around.

O=On’s - Their top turn on’s that they have (things that’ll get them super horny super quickly).

Billy likes an intelligent woman that isn’t afraid to call him out on his shit. Most of the women he sleeps with land in his bed because he likes the way that they look - but the ones that are willing so sass him a little and meet his one liners with comebacks of their own? They’re the ones he comes back to, the ones that get second dates. Confidence - like the confidence Billy has in himself - is the biggest turn on that Billy can think of.

He loves seeing a woman’s hand against his forearm. There’s something about the way a woman’s fingers look wrapped around his skin; the slender fingers and long, painted nails. This also applies to the way your hand looks wrapped around his length, too.

Billy’s turned on by a woman that can hold their liquor. He likes to drink and have a good time, and while he understands that there’s a time for drinks like daiquiris and margaritas, he can truly appreciate a woman that can slug back shots of whiskey drink for drink with him.

He likes receiving flirty text messages from you, and you’ve perfected the art of getting him hard - and ready - with only a few words…. Or pictures. Billy likes knowing that you’re thinking about him, and there’s nothing like a picture of the swell of your breast above the bathwater or the curve of your ass on top of the bedsheets to get him going.

P=Position -  Their favorite position to have sex in.

This might surprise people to learn, but Billy’s favorite position for sex is taking you from behind. Standing, laying down, sitting… he loves the way that it feels to have your entire back pressed against his chest, his hands on your breasts… or your neck, or your lower body, fingers moving against your skin. He loves the feeling of controlling your movements against him, and even though he can’t always look at your face this way, it’s the perfect position for having sex in front of a mirror, where he can stare at you all he wants - head to toe. He also really likes this position because it leaves his mouth free to explore.. And he loves to latch his lips against your neck, his teeth on your earlobe… or, best of all, holding your head to the side and kissing you like you’re the last woman alive and only he knows how to keep you satisfied.

Q=Quickie - Do they like it, do they prefer quickies over actual sex, etc.

Billy won’t ever turn down lengthy, multiple rounds of sex, but he’s a sucker for quickies too, because he loves the thrill of knowing that he can get you off so quickly - and thoroughly… like the time he surprised you at work, and make you come three times in in under fifteen minutes in your office’s break room. He’d finished too, of course, but being quick wasn’t anything new for him… and you’d helped him out immensely by whispering into his ear and telling him all of the things that you wanted him to do to you later that night.

R=Rough - How rough they are, or get, when in bed.

It’s no surprise that Billy’s rough more often than not, but he’s not so rough that it’s off putting. He doesn’t want to hurt you, but he’s strong and he’s focused, and sometimes he gets a little carried away. This is especially true when he’s on top of you, because that way he can set the pace that suits him the best, and you can’t do anything but let him go for it. It’s also true when you’re on your hands and knees for him; even when you begin in the middle of the bed, more often than not, you end up bracing yourself against the headboard after slipping across his (or your own) sheets.

His kisses are biting, no matter where on your body they fall. Your lips are often swollen for hours after you’ve been together, and he’s been known to leave marks on your breasts, ass and even your inner thighs and biceps because it’s almost as if he can’t keep his mouth and his teeth to himself in bed. (Not that you’re complaining, because every mark is a reminder of him and how he can make your body feel). These marks are sometimes even joined with finger shaped bruises - specifically on your hips and your lower back.

And you pulling on his hair? He loves it, especially when you use the action to guide his mouth to where you want it most. He’s not afraid to pull on yours either, but if there’s one thing Billy Russo wants, it’s to ensure that you’re enjoying yourself as much as he is, so gasps of pain and surprise are fine, but if he thinks he’s actually hurting you, he’ll lessen his grip immediately.

S=Stamina - How long they can go before they tap out.

Good things come to those who wait, and Billy is a master at controlling his own body. Multiple rounds in one night are commonplace for the two of you, and though you’re unsure about whether or not that’s the case for the other women in his life, you aren’t complaining. His reputation precedes him, and you’ve heard the whispers in the bars and restaurants - even at the events that you go to - about his talents in bed… they’re all true. He doesn’t focus on emotions, but rather the body that’s directly in front of him, and by setting  his sights on what he wants and needs to you for you, he delays his own satisfaction. Once he’s inside of you, though, he alternates between controlled and unpredictable, and it all depends on what kind of mood he’s in. You asked him once how he’d learned himself (and the needs of his partners) so well (especially since many of them weren’t repeat encounters)  and with that single lock of hair falling across his eyes and a large grin on his face, he’d raised an eyebrow and given you a one word response: “Practice.”

T=Toys - Do use toys, do they own them, what kind, etc.

He does not use toys, but it’s not because he has no interest. It’s because he needs to keep his reputation up, and he needs to ensure that people remember him for what he can do and what he can offer... not what he needs help with. If he’s only going to fuck someone once, he wants to ensure that he’s providing the pleasure, that he’s what his bedmate is thinking of. For people that he’s with more than once, though? He’s fascinated with the way that the body responds to outside stimulation, fascinated by being able to control what happens when this button is pressed, or that switch is flipped.

U=Unfair - How much they tease you, how they tease you, etc.

With Billy, the teasing is all worth it because you know that (at least for now) the teasing is going to lead to sex, or a sexual act of some sort. Sometimes, like when you’re at dinner and he rests his hand on your thigh under the table, fingers slowly circling as they make their way closer and closer to your center before pulling away, him getting you off with his hand once - fast, efficient, his lips whispering filthy things into your ear - quick is better.

It’s the nights, though, when he spends hours antagonizing you - adjusting the zipper of his pants multiple times, putting his hands on his hips after unbuttoning his jacket and just staring at you, tongue poking out between his lips, running that same tongue out over his lower lip in the middle of conversations, his eyes blazing as he looks at you - that you know you’re in for a good night when he finally thinks you’ve had enough. The man himself is a tease, from the top of his head to the tips of his toes, and he knows it… it’s all about finding the right ways to entice you and keep you waiting, lips parted in anticipation for him to tell you that it’s time to act on it.

V=Volume - How loud they get when having sex, things they might say, etc.

He’s not a screamer, but Billy’s vocal in bed. Yes, he grunts and moans with the best of them, his uneven breathing helping you to understand exactly what he’s feeling and doing and thinking… but it’s the things that he says to you in bed - no matter how quietly - that make all the difference. Whispered instructions - “Hands behind your head.” “Don’t even think about moving.” “Tell me how much you like that” - are often enough to get you soaking wet before he’s even touched you or entered you, and it’s all about the cadence of his voice and the way his accent comes through just a bit more when he’s aroused. And besides, you like his quiet moans better, when he whispers your name, lips trailing against the skin of your neck or your chest.

W=Wild Card - a random letter for the character of your choice.

Billy’s got a thing about his scars. Not the ones that he got in the group home - those, you don’t talk about or pay attention to, not after seeing the change in his eyes and the set of his jaw as he’d told you what happened - but the ones that he got overseas. Billy’s not one to wear his scars with a sense of pride; instead, he sees them as a source of frustration. Did he get hurt? Yes. Did he survive? Yes. Are the scars there whether he likes them or not? Yes. But they’re not him, and while they tell a story, they don’t tell his story. He doesn’t see the scars as a part of himself, instead as almost a separate entity; Billy Russo’s war wounds could belong to an entirely different person and he’d be perfectly fine with it. He wants to be looked at  and admired for what he has accomplished, what he can provide, what he is capable of in the future, not what has happened to him without his permission or control.

That’s where you come in. A few months after you’d started seeing Billy - roughly 5 weeks after you’d started sleeping with him on and off, you’d been having a conversation about something entirely different when he’d interrupted. “Whadya think of my scars?” Cocking his head to the side, he’d focused his eyes on you, his fingers toying with the glass he held in his hands. “You’ve seen ‘em all, what do you think of them?” Frowning at him, you thought for a moment.

“What do you mean, what do I think of them?”

“Do they turn you on? Me bein’ a survivor of war, comin’ back here with imperfections?” Imperfections? It’s a scar, not a missing limb. “A lot of the other women, they’ve focused on the scars, you know?” He shook his head, a bitter tone entering his voice. “They pay special attention to ‘em, run their fingers over them, say ‘Oh, Billy. You’re a hero.’” He shook his head again, finishing his drink. “What do you think of them.” Your heart was beating quickly, but you didn’t have time to think because the longer you waited, the more you knew he was going to question your answer.

“I don’t think of them.” His eyes widened, and he leaned closer to you. “They’re there, sure.... But everyone’s got scars, Billy. You could have gotten them from falling out of a window or getting into a bike accident, or whatever. You just happened to get yours some other way.” Reaching out, you motioned for him to put the glass down before you climbed onto his lap, resting on his knees and facing him. Show him. “There are plenty of other parts of your body that I’d rather run my fingers over,” you said as you lowered your hand to the zipper of his jeans, rubbing him through the material. “There are plenty of other things I’d rather focus on.” His eyes had darkened. “You went through a lot of shit, Billy… and I’m sure you’ll end up with more scars in the future, you’re gonna go back ...over there eventually.” I don’t want to think about that. “But I’d like you just the same with or without them, I’m indifferent.”

Leaning forward, you pressed your lips to his jaw, kissing your way along it toward his ear and then dragging your tongue along the skin there, feeling him swallow beneath it as you lowered your head, tongue still out and tracing a line against his skin.

“What are you doing?” His voice was low, and as you pulled back, you shook your head. “Why are you - “

“Lift your arms, and I’m going to take your shirt off and show you every other area of your body that I care about more than those damn scars.” He inhaled sharply, but lifted his arms, allowing you to pull his t-shirt up and off. Throwing it to the side, you smiled, leaning in to press a kiss beneath his right eye. “This birthmark.” A kiss to the corner of his left eye. “The way your skin crinkles right here when you laugh or smile.” Your lips found the tip of his nose. “The way your nose wrinkles.” This is too much, it’s going to scare him off. You aren’t together, you’re just fucking, it’s… friends, with benefits, without clothes a lot… But you couldn’t stop, your lips moving to his to kiss him deeply, tongue sliding into his mouth for long moments before you pulled back, sliding backwards on his legs and pushing him to lean back against the couch.

By the time your tongue slid across his abdomen, you were kneeling on the ground in front of him, hands working at the button of his jeans. I’d lick every inch of him if he’d let me. “You don’t gotta… what… God. Don’t stop that.” His jeans were undone and pulled down around his thighs along with his boxer briefs, and you looked up at him, smirking, fingers wrapped around him as you moved your hand up and down slowly, one eyebrow raised.

“Got any other silly questions, Russo?” He shook his head and the word “no” tumbled out of his mouth while something much more substantial found its way into yours.

X=X-Ray - How they look with their clothes off

Starting from the top down, Billy Russo looks like he was carved from marble: he’s a masterpiece. His body is long and lean - muscled in all of the right places. Though he isn’t bulky, he’s strong, capable of handling his own in a fight. He keeps in shape - drinking a ton of water to keep his skin clear, and he’s a runner. He says that it’s to keep his legs strong, but you know that it’s also to allow him time to think to himself, putting his headphones in an losing himself on a treadmill for an hour or making his way through Central Park when the weather is nice.

He’s gorgeous to look at - head to toe - and he knows it. The first time you got a glimpse of his bare ass, watching as he stepped away from the bed to get you something to drink you couldn’t help but smile, the subtle curve of the muscle illuminated in the moonlight, and it made you want to reach out and grab it, running your hands all over it and digging your fingers into it. His skin is smooth and perfect, pale (except when he’s deployed, and has spent long hours in the sun and wind) and supple; he takes care of himself, since he’s got a lot of pride in his personal appearance.

But between his legs? Billy’s slightly above average; about seven inches fully erect and just thick enough to make things feel a little uncomfortable (but so damn good), especially if it’s been a while since he’s been inside you. He’s definitely more than a handful for you - and even for himself, but it’s a sight to behold when he’s running his own fingers along his length, laying in bed and looking up at you while you watch. He keeps himself well groomed all over; though there’s hair on his arms and legs, he cleans up below the belt because he knows that A) it makes him look bigger B) It’s more comfortable  for him… and C) because he loves the feeling of your nails and mouth against his almost bare skin.

Y=Yearning - How often they need to have sex.

Billy’s got a high sex drive, but it’s not really a need - it’s more of a want. Billy can go long periods of time without having sex, but why should he? Sex is a good way to release tension for him, to put the day (week, month, year) behind him and focus on something good and enjoyable for a period of time. While he likes knowing that he could have someone 7 days a week in his bed if he wanted, there’s not always time for that - nor does he want to worry about the implications of having someone around that often. Ideally, since he’s unwilling to be in a committed relationship, refuses quality over quantity, Billy would have a new woman each week… but since you met him, he’s slowed things down a bit, and has even found fault with some of his dates. Things that normally wouldn’t have bothered him became irritating, and he found that while sex was sex, the idea of having an actual conversation with a woman to get to that point was almost unthinkable.

In the seven weeks between meeting you and sleeping with you for the first time, Billy had been out with six different “new” women, and only two of them had ended with sex. All of them had been willing - especially the one that you’d met - but he hadn’t found it in him to consummate the dates. Sure, he’d called two of his old hookups and had had them over, but sex four nights out of seven weeks? That’s how he’d known you were a little different than the others

Z=ZZZ - How quickly they fall asleep after having sex.

Billy’s so goddamn thorough in bed that you have no idea how long it takes him to fall asleep because once he’s done with you, you can barely keep your eyes open. He doesn’t sleep much, but he sleeps hard… so you’d imagine that he nods off pretty quickly once he’s had his way with you.

* * * * * * * *

D = Dirty Secret (Bonus, from another NSFW Alphabet list)

(Written specifically for @ooo-barff-ooo)

It wasn’t the first time you’d seen Billy Russo drunk, and you knew that it wouldn’t be the last, but there was a difference between drunk and blackout drunk. A random Wednesday in April, he’d called you and asked you to come out with him, and you’d agreed, even though you hadn’t heard from him in over a week. You’re not a couple, remember that.  Meeting him at the bar, you’d immediately started drinking - and Billy was drinking to get wasted. After the first few rounds, you’d started pacing yourself, knowing that you’d have to get him back to his place… somewhere that you hadn’t yet been in the six weeks since you’d first met him.

Two hours later, Billy could barely stand, and you’d called for a car to come pick you up after convincing him to let you take him home. “Oh, you’re gonna take me home?” You nodded, slipping your arm around his waist to help him walk to the door.

“I am. I’m going to take care of you, Billy Russo.” He smiled at you, and it was such a genuine smile that you were stunned. He’d never looked at you that way before, and it was a refreshing change of pace, since he spent so much time trying to keep his walls up around you. The car ride to his home was uneventful, and he’d actually been able to help you by walking through the lobby to his elevator, your arm around his waist and his around your shoulders.

He leaned his head back against the mirrored wall of the elevator, eyes closed. “I hate today.” You frowned, but didn’t question it, instead focusing on the floor numbers lighting up, followed by helping him to his door and unlocking it for him. He stumbled inside, bracing himself on the small table in the dining room for a minute, his head hanging down. “Can you get me some water, please? I need to lay down.”

He went into his room without turning the lights on, and you followed after him, a large cup of cold water in your hands. He was laying back on the bed, his legs dangling over the edge and he’d managed to remove his shirt but not his boots. “Hey, you.” He groaned. “I got your water, can you sit up and drink it?” He slowly complied, swaying as he took the cup from your hands and you knelt on the floor in front of him, unlacing the boots and pulling them off of his feet, one by one. You heard the cup clatter to the floor next to you and jumped back in case there was still liquid in it, but he’d finished it all. “Socks on or off?”

He mumbled the word “off” and you pulled them from his feet, lifting his legs one by one onto the bed so that he could stretch out. Shirtless Billy Russo in bed in front of me, oh man. Pulling the spare blanket from beneath his legs, you draped it loosely over his body and then walked back to the head of the bed, leaning down. “Hey, Billy?” His breathing had evened out, and you weren’t sure if he was sleeping or not. “‘I’m gonna go, OK?” He didn’t respond, and before you could help yourself you leaned down, kissing his cheek. As you stood, you saw in the glow of the streetlight that he was smiling.

“You don’t gotta go.” He opened his eyes, and they were clear - and filled with longing. “Stay.” What’s the harm in that? You nodded and he shut his eyes again. After pulling your hoodie and shoes off, you circled the bed and climbed in next to him, using the comforter that he was laying on top of to cover yourself. “Hey.” He rolled toward you, his eyes still closed. “Hey, I gotta tell you something, OK?” He licked his lips and tried to prop himself up on an elbow, but couldn’t.

“Hey, Billy, it’s fine, just tell me tomorrow.” After you get pissed that I’m here in the first place and saw you like this. “Just get some sleep.”

“No, I gotta tell you why I hate today.” He sucked his lower lip into his mouth, biting down on it. “I gotta tell you because I need you to know. You’re my friend and I need you to…” Billy’s behavior wasn’t that of the man that you’d grown to know, it was more like that of a teenager. “C’mere.” He reached out with one arm, pulling you closer, and even drunk, you felt the strength in his grip. I’ll allow it. Your foreheads were close together, his breathing hard. “I hate today because it’s the day that I got my heart stomped on by my girlfriend.”

Of all the things that he could have said, that was the last thing you’d expected. “Billy…” You trailed off, not knowing what to say. He took a breath and opened his eyes, staring into yours.

“I never told anyone this before.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “I was fifteen, almost sixteen and she was my age. We...we met in the group home where I lived,and were together for seven months.” He was slurring somewhat, but his words were mostly clear. “We decided to… be together one night and I was so nervous, I’d never...but she had... “ he mumbled a few words. “And so…” Billy swallowed. “I finished before I was even all the way in, I couldn’t help it.” Your eyes widened, and Billy opened his again - they were filled with anguish, even through the inebriation. “She told everyone. She told everyone and they all made fun of me, they called me “Billy Blows It”.

He just told me something real. Your heart was pounding and Billy was silent, but his eyes were still screwed shut. “Billy.” Your response was quiet, and you moved so that you could speak directly into his ear, wanting to be sure he heard you. “Billy, she wouldn’t know what hit her now.” He chuckled but you could hear the pain in the noise. “I bet that’s never happened to you again, either.” He agreed with you, and as you laid back down, you saw that his face had smoothed out, his breathing even again. He won’t remember this in the morning.

A few minutes later, he started snoring softly, his arm still around your waist. Laying there, in the dark, you took a deep breath and reached up, stroking your fingers against his cheek and through his hair - if he remembered it, remembered your touch or your tenderness, or what he’d told you, you could just deny it when the two of you woke up… after all, you had the upper hand for once.

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 45

Yay! Another chapter beta’d by @parisconstantine, ready to go.

There are some interesting things going on in this chapter, for all that it may seem like it’s a bit of a down time.  Also, if you don’t read this chapter, the next one is may not flow as well, so I appreciate all your feedback.

A few Content Warnings (I’m trying to be better about these):  mention of being restrained in both a sexual and non sexual context (nothing graphic), mention of sex workers, mention of food in a general context.

“Did you go to the food bazaar for Insert Winter Holiday?” I asked Alistair as I signed off on the final check-ins for the one ahead.

“I did, but only briefly,” he admitted. “I’m not terribly fond of holidays, and at the time I did not feel any particular need to celebrate. I mostly went for educational purposes, to learn about other cultures. Why?”

I chuckled. “That one was limited to the ‘cafeterias’, so to speak. This one actually encompasses five entire levels, so we’ve had to make some changes, accordingly.” With a gesture, I shared my data screen with the emitter on my desk. Say what you want, but Hujylsogox technology was cool. I swept my hand to highlight where the Festival would be taking place. “As you can see, the Council mainly selected levels with living quarters, areas dedicated to socialization, and any work areas that could be shut down for an entire day without negative impact.”  I twisted and stretched the image so that only the area highlighted was showing. “Because of the duration of the event, and the fact that there are no particular religious holidays currently taking place, we are expecting a correlating higher turnout. Following?”

“Yes, Mi- Sophia,” he nodded before gesturing at the image. “May I?”  I waved a hand in acquiescence and he started to pull and twist the projection himself. “The corridors are wide, but the projected turnout is over nine thousand people.  I assume Councillor Kalloe has put thought into crowd control?”

“You assume correctly,” I confirmed. “Keep in mind, one ‘day’ on the Ark is around thirty Terran hours at the moment, so we have a longer timetable to work with when we say it will last all day.  People not working in the areas shut down will still have their normal tasks to perform, so not everyone will be able to attend at once. Additionally, the first six hours are limited to those on board who are easily overwhelmed by crowds, plus a maximum of one guest each.  Estimates for that group are between two and three thousand.” I held up a hand before Alistair could voice his next objection. “I know it sounds like a lot, but the area they will be in is actually larger than most towns I’ve seen, plus those attending during this time will largely be using the recent proximity and dampening upgrades to their translation implants.  Everyone we are expecting to attend during this time also has the option to attend later, when it’s more crowded, but some wouldn’t be able to attend at all if we didn’t do this. Not to mention, I would rather they be able to test drive the upgrades in a low-stimuli environment, rather than finding out in a packed crowd that they don’t work as intended.”

“Surely, the upgrade has been tested,” was the scoffed reply.

I nodded. “Of course, it has. Rigorously and thoroughly, in fact.  However, there is always the chance that something goes wrong, and no one deserves to be punished for that.” I took a deep breath. “That said, the vendors for the low-stimuli group will have limited decorations, no blaring lights, no loud music, and so on.  The attendees during that period have the option of providing a pre-made list of their food preferences and aversions to the vendors, and the vendors can provide them with samples or let them know that they don’t have any food that person may find palatable.  We’re trying to make this fun, not stressful for either side.”

The map was twisted again, and several areas were picked out in a screaming green. “What are these areas, exactly? They show they will be open, but are not marked as vendor or seating spaces.”

“Quiet rooms,” I clarified. “Those will be open for the duration of the event. Soft, warm-spectrum lighting, soundproofing, air filters on overdrive.  Noah is in the process of temporarily re-furnishing those spaces with what basically amounts to floor cushions, hammocks, pillows, and fluffy blankets in the event that anyone gets overwhelmed or needs a break.  That includes the vendors, by the way.”

“That covers the first six hours, and crowd control for that group seems to be in hand,” Alistair continued absentmindedly. “What about the rest?”

“That is another story,” I sighed. “We are expecting anywhere from six to eight thousand throughout the remainder of the festival. Due to restriction on space, Miys will not be walking around in the crowd, and will mostly be monitoring remotely.  However, they have agreed to station themself at strategic intervals in the event we need them.  Xiomara’s people, along with Antoine’s staff, will be providing the majority of on-the-spot crowd control.”

That got a brow arched at me in skepticism. “My understanding is that Mr. Costa oversees professional nurturers and companions, not police?”

“Correct,” I grinned. “But no one can de-escalate a tense situation like they can. Plus, they will already be in attendance in their professional capacity to assist their clients in most situations. I don’t know if you’ve looked into some of their backgrounds, but they all generally have training in either calming or safely restraining physically violent people.”

“I thought Mr. Costa previously worked in a nursing home and hospice?”

“I may have never taught teenagers, but you have clearly never had an Alzheimer’s patient three times your size mistake you for a home invader,” I teased before ticking off other in that area. “Grandma Kim was special ops of some sort, Sebastian Reed owned a bar on Earth… I don’t know what Amelie did Before, but she is very good at cute-ing people into submission.  That’s not counting a full score of professional doms, who are breathtakingly incredible at both comforting people and stopping fights.”

“We are using sex workers as crowd control?” he demanded, incredulous.

“Hey, buddy,” I stood abruptly and slammed my hands flat on my desk as I glared across at him. “We aren’t using anyone, so wash your fucking mouth out.  Everyone in that sub-department volunteered for their jobs… no one is assigned there, and they have to jump through hoops to qualify to be a companion or nurturer. I don’t think anyone on this ship has as much say in what they do, honestly.  This event? Same thing. Xiomara’s people were assigned, because that’s their fucking job – public safety.  Antione’s folks? Every last one was given the right to opt out, and I can say without hesitation that the ones who did only objected for the sake of their clients. I don’t know what your life experience was, but I can tell you this: I would much rather be restrained, even against my will, by a sex worker than a cop. If nothing else, they are much better at not leaving bruises unless I ask them to.”  I took a deep breath to calm myself and carefully sat down, eyes never leaving my red-faced administrator.

He looked away first, clearing his throat. “That’s both more than I knew before and more than I probably need to,” he grumbled.

I shrugged, trying to let the conversation change. “If you haven’t tried it, don’t judge. That’s all I’m saying.”  When he still couldn’t look me in the eye, I huffed in exasperation. “Moving on!  You and I will be attending around the middle of the event…” I stared at him pointedly until the words sank in and he looked at me in a much more familiar sort of alarm. “Yes, you and I. Now that you are an administrator, and therefore a secondary member of the Council, your attendance to this is mandatory.”

“But. Sophia – “ he sputtered, all aplomb lost.

“No ‘but’s,” I stated firmly. “It was listed as part of the position when you applied for the position: Attendance is required for the duration of or for one standard shift during any ship wide social events, whichever is lesser. In this case, one shift is the lesser.”

“But that’s ten hours!” he objected.

I shook my head. “When that caveat was written by Simon, a standard shift was six hours, so you are only expected to attend for that amount of time.  To be clear,” I raised my voice to drown out my assistant’s interjection, “You are not required to socialize that entire time.  Your role is to be my eyes on the ground in areas where I am not.  All you are expected to do is attend, make sure that everything is running smoothly, and update me at regular intervals with any feedback you have or have received.  You don’t even have to visit every vendor – if you are doing your job as thoroughly as I know you will, you probably won’t even make it half-way through the entire festival. After your allotted six hours are up, you are free to take the rest of the day off.”

“Wait,” he hesitated, a confused expression clouding his features. “Are you actually telling me that, instead of the twelve hours you normally work, you are only working six that day?”

My head tilted side to side before I shrugged. “I can’t say for sure.  I’ll stay until I’m too overwhelmed and can’t take it anymore.  At that point, I’ve already talked to my self-appointed shadows, and one or both of them will take me to my quarters to recover.” I leaned back in my chair with a sigh. “Trust me, I am well aware how easy it is to drain your social battery at these things.  I fully expect us both to work remotely for at least the two days following the Food Festival.  I definitely will, so if you still feel up to real-space interaction, you know where my quarters are, and we can work out of those.  Or, you can work with Simon.”

“Remote or your quarters sounds good,” he rushed to agree before we both burst into laughter.

“In that case, get some good rest tonight,” I leaned back with a sigh. “Tomorrow is going to be wild.”

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[bubblyani]

Freed- Part 2 (Eames x Reader)

Part 2 of an Eames Two Shot

Summary: A mysterious yet well known Architect was being being held captive by a Millionaire, and Cobb and the others are assigned to extract information from you, who is the  closest lead.

Genre: Drama, Smut (18+)

Author’s Note: This took a while but I’m glad how it all came together. Wanted to give this a proper finish with more Inception flavor aaaand...of course some sexy Eames (who can forget). I hope you all enjoy!

Part 1 HERE

You were not the biggest believer in faith, but the moment you heard those words leave Eames’ lips, you wondered whether angels or saviors really existed among people, for it was simply unbelievable.

The door suddenly bursted open, startling you as two women entered. Looks of disgust filled their faces as they caught glimpse of you still sitting on the sink top, while Eames had your legs wrapped around him. As if he heard your concerns, you felt Eames back away, taking you by the hand to help you get down easy. At this unexpected moment you felt an admiration for his act of chivalry. As you nodded apologetically, you watched the two women pass by, impatient to ask Eames the one thing that you've been extremely curious about.

“So the telegram actually worked?” You asked.

With raised eyebrows, he merely chuckled, surprised by your question. As soon as the door opened once again , with another woman entering, Eames straightened his jacket. This was not the place to linger any longer.  

“We will find you ...Nova” he smiled, backing further. With a forced smile of assurance, you heard the pull and release of the wooden door with his image disappearing from your view.

Turning to face the mirror, you noticed the smudged lipstick on your swollen lips, a reminder of your passionate encounter from earlier.

“Sexy rendezvous huh? Lucky....” said The woman who just entered, whilst fixing her hair next to you, unaware of your widened eyes of disbelief.

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

Every bite, you took it with much focus of your surroundings, as you ate your lunch alone at the Hotel restaurant. You hoped he would be there, you hoped he would stop by, but given the fact their place of conversation was at a secret location, you were sure your chances were thin. And surely, the hours went by by reading or sketching by the pool till it was time for dinner. You ate very little, for impatience remained strong in you. For after all this time, your life was not monotonous anymore.

Swiping the door open with your card, you finally entered your hotel room. You paced around to familiarize oneself, running your fingers along whatever you could find, lost in thought. The moment you peeped into the bathroom, the doorbell rang, echoing loudly in your ears as you rushed over to open.  

You could not help but smile by the sight of Eames, standing there in front of you.

“Did you check through the peephole?” He asked, a question that was least expected.

“Uhhh...no” you said, embarrassment creeping over you as you realized your carelessness. Eames shook his head.

“A woman of your importance ...” Eames began, as you allowed him in, “...should be more careful...”.

You merely clicked your tongue by that remark, “ I highly doubt I’m considered important to anyone...”

“You are to us ...” Eames turned back to you with a serious expression. You were halfway considering to blush in response.  

“Eames is right” a voice called out from the hallway. And before you knew it, three men appeared before your door in an instant. One stepping forward to extend his hand.

“Dominic Cobb, it’s a pleasure to meet you Y/N”

Your eyes widened with wonder.

“The same ...” you replied, shaking his hand, “Professor Mills has spoken so highly of you and-“ you paused, sighing, “I...I’m very sorry about Mal” you said, reminded of that horrible memory. Dom nodded in acknowledgment.

“Please...come in gentlemen” you said, ushering them in.

Introductions were made, including your surprising realization of Yusuf’s Bartender stint, which you were thoroughly impressed by. Finally it came down to the important matter at hand.

“As you all may or may not know, Paul Harper is here on business for several conferences and whatnot ...” you said, as you slowly sat on the bed next to Arthur, “...the final conference is tomorrow morning, and it’s highly likely we will leave the premises soon after. I hope you know that smuggling me out of here will not be as effective” you added with a laugh.

Dom smiled in response, “We are aware that your problem cannot be solved that easily” he said, “Given our strengths, I was thinking we somehow convince Harper to let you go”

“And how exactly do we do that?” You asked, intrigued by the idea.

“By birthing the concept in his head...” Eames replied out of the sudden, as he stood by the table, leaning against it.  

“Exactly..” Dom said, “If that can be done through a dream, it would appear more natural”

“During meeting breaks, Harper has a habit of taking a small nap. Maybe that’ll be our chance” you said.

“Do you have any other information that would seem useful ?” Arthur turned to you, “...something he can’t say no to?”

This discussion seemed versatile enough to awaken your logic, as your brain searched far and wide for answers. And you were successful.

“I thought of one...” you said, sounding relieved.

All eyes were on you as you revealed your idea. Everyone seemed to welcome your input with genuine interest. Dom, Arthur and Yusuf kept nodding whilst listening to you. However , Eames did not. Instead a soft smile of admiration lingered in his face, and it warmed your heart involuntarily.

“That seems solid...” Dom said, “But what about the location? We need an architect-“

“We already have one” Eames said with confidence, as he looked at you with a serious expression.

“Point made Eames” Arthur joined in, “But we need enough experience to make sure this works”

“And I can assure you she has enough to get this done..” Eames said, “The bar and the building I was at in her dream, was of original design and her imagination was more than...vivid. I’m sure she can provide us with what we need”

You did not need anyone to fight your battles for you, but when someone realized of your potential even before you yourself did, you could not help but feel moved by it.

“Yes...” you began, “You guys can trust me” After all, you were fighting for your life.

Nodding, Dom took everything in. “Alright, then that’s settled. We’ll assemble at the lobby tomorrow morning” he said, walking over to you, indicating the time to wrap it all up. “Get some sleep Y/N, you deserve it” he said, shaking hands with you once more.

Parting greetings were exchanged. You waved as you watched them exit the room, including Eames who merely nodded. The moment you closed the door, you were alone again. Loneliness was never an issue for you all this time, but the meeting of a group such as this one, reminded you of the joys of great company and challenging conversations. It was oddly comforting.

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

A gape was left in you  by the way Eames left tonight. For some reason you would have appreciated his company much longer than that. Could it be that this man has claimed a soft spot in your heart? Did those kisses affect you much deeper than anticipated? Or was this all sheer over thinking?

A ring of the doorbell  woke you from your thoughts again. After careful examination, your face filled with disbelief as you opened the door.

“Hey” you smiled.

“Hello again ...” Eames smiled back, as he stood there, again.

“Just so you know...I checked...” you continued” ...the peephole I mean ” you said, pointing at the door. He looked amused. “Good...good” he said, pausing for a few seconds, “Just came to check on you…How are you feeling?” He asked. You exhaled heavily.

“Not gonna lie..I am nervous..just a bit”

“Of course…understandable”

“I mean...” you began, “When there’s finally a way to get out of all this...it’s only natural to feel that right?... I just hope it all works out” you said, with your fingers crossed.

“It will ...I’m sure of it” Eames’ gaze on yours confirmed his words without hesitation. You felt convinced.

“Thank you”

He chuckled,“So, what did you make of the team?”

“Oh...”you laughed in surprise “They’re great ...amazing really...you included” pointing at him, you replied. Eames leaned in closer,

“Are you saying I’m amazing?” He asked with a mild flirtatious tone.

“I mean you did find me so...”you continued, joining in “no take backs” playfulness exuded as you replied. Looking into each other’s eyes, you didn’t know what else to say.

“Right then...”Eames said, with his hands on his waist, “I shall let you rest for the big day, sorry to disturb you-“

“No” your reply was prompt “no disturbance at all” you exaggerated  “...not at all” you wished he’d understood what you were really trying to say.

“Brilliant” he nodded, seemingly debating himself about this moment.

“Well…Goodnight” you said, deciding to make it easy for him, for you seemed to have failed.

A part of you hated for him to leave, but you were afraid of being too forward. You wished for that new found courage you wielded in your dream. You exhaled heavily but quietly as his back faced you to take a step away from the door. .But one step was that he took, till he suddenly snapped his fingers.

“Ah…Silly me…I actually forgot something” he said. You looked on both sides with confusion.

“Hm? Wha-?”

His lips crashing on to yours was clearly his answer. Surprised as you were at first, you more than happy with his decision. You finally had him where you wanted him to be. This time it was not work, it was no distraction. It was merely the want and need of the simple pleasures your new found chemistry could provide tonight.

Doors properly locked, lips were quite busy as Eames backed you over to the edge of bed. With his hands firmly resting on your waist, you realized how they have slithered back, undoing the zipper of your high waisted flower print skirt, allowing it to freely drop to the floor in the midst of your gasp. Lips smacked loudly when Eames slowly lowered himself to the ground in front of you, helping you step out of the skirt that pooled around your feet. You were startled, quickly grabbing on to railing when you felt his kisses rest on your calves. The sounds of his kisses, the way those soft lips touched your skin, sent waves of pleasure through you. Eyes closed, he seemed to be relishing the process.

“You certainly like to take your time, don’t you Mr.Eames?” You asked, breath quickening when he moved over to your thighs, kisses transitioning from the outer to the inner more sensitive thigh area. “With someone as beautiful as you are?” Eames spoke into your skin, “With pleasure” You would be lying if you did not feel like you were practically being worshipped.

For a second, you wondered whether every woman bedded by Eames ever heard those words. Maybe they did, maybe not, you just took the wise road of not debating about that for the moment.

Eames held on to your thighs with determination, his kisses never stopping as they moved upward. As he moved in further, you flinched suddenly by his nose accidentally brushing against your panties, tickling your pubic area. A whimper left your lips, motivating him to repeat, but this time on purpose, as he watched you with sharp, lustful eyes.

You did not resist at all when he pushed you into the bed, and you certainly did not protest as your body automatically raised your hips in order for him to slide  your panties down off your legs. Resting on your elbows, you waited with bated breath when Eames held on to your knees, gingerly opening them wide.

“Been having quite the stressful time these days…haven’t you?” He asked breathlessly to your surprise. Talking was the last option you had in mind at the moment, especially when his eyes kept afixed on your gaping, moistened slit with intrigue.

“You need to relax...Nova” he said, his breath tickling your inner thigh, clearly teasing you.

Every inch surrounding your throbbing slit felt noticed as his pillowy lips were generous with kisses, and so were your cries of pleasure. A mass of energy was created within you, causing your head to fall on the bed, shudder with vulnerability when his tongue made an appearance, each slow lick and thrust inside you earned a vocal response, and they certainly grew louder when he increased in speed. Clean white sheets crumpled with ease as your hands gripped on, fisting them tightly when Eames took his time savoring you. As you finally hit your climax, a sense of relaxation overcame you. He was right.

Sitting up slowly, you found him still kneeling before you, wearing a subtle yet proud grin on his face.

“Been working hard recently...haven’t you?” You asked in return, pulling him by the collar close to you.

“I’ve yet to thank you ...Mr. Eames” you whispered seductively, commencing your expression of gratitude with a kiss.  

Pushing yourself up, you pulled him along with you as he helped you stand. Completely bare below your waist, excluding your heels, you clearly felt the ends of your shirt brushing over your buttocks, exposing them. You suddenly felt confident, he made you confident. And your gratitude was far from over. Pushing his jacket off his shoulders, you grabbed his welcoming hands, placing them on your buttocks. Chuckling with delight, Eames groped them tightly as you pushed him back, until finally he bumped against the door.  

“Clearly you’re enjoying this...” Eames said, his tone laced with amusement, while his hands unmoved from their previous position.

“Well...aren’t you?” You purred, surprising him by bringing your knee up, rubbing it gently against his clothed erection. Grunting to suppress his satisfaction, he exhaled softly as he watched you unbutton your shirt. You felt his hungry gaze wash over you as each button was loosened, hinting your exposed cleavage along with your black balconette bra. Patience clearly was moot here as Eames rushed to unbutton the rest of your shirt, struggling to liberate you out of it. You wished to say something clever or alluring, but he made it easy when he distracted you with another kiss. Hands on your back, you felt the centimeter distance between you two close off completely when he pulled you closer, your lingerie clad chest brushing against his shirt clad one. Tongue sliding into finding yours, his kiss suddenly felt deeper with more intent, as if he has a serious conversation in mind with your lips. Quite the multi tasker he was, for you felt your body loosen as he skillfully unhooked your bra. Butterflies were frantic in your stomach when those kisses transferred over to your jawline, slowly moving down your neck. He certainly knew how to keep you on your toes, for the teasing smothered you greatly as the kisses landed on your collarbone, whilst the piece of lingerie vanished out of your body.

You felt lifted with his hands on your upper waist, causing you to hold on to his neatly combed hair, making a mess out of it as his lips moved down to relish on your now exposed chest. The grip on his hair tightened, you even felt your stomach clench as he held on to each breast, enclosing his irresistible lips on each nipple, suckling on them with such passion, your moans even confirmed you’ve never felt them to be this erect before. Fully naked, with only your high heels on, Eames watched you in awe as your fingers worked its way to unbutton his shirt.

“Bloody hell..I feel like I’m dreaming..” his tone sounded genuine, which motivated you even more as you removed his shirt slowly.

“Well ...You’re definitely not.. Mr. Eames...” you replied softly, reminding him so by placing his palms on your buttocks, a place he clearly felt at home to. You were startled when that led him to lift you up in a flash, only to guide you to the bed. Clearly foreplay was over.

Sitting on the bed, feeling the crisp sheets brushing on your naked form, your hands moved to your shoes.

“Leave the heels on...” Eames breathed, and you certainly didn’t mind. The most mundane sounds of his trousers unbuckling to the sounds of a plastic condom packet being torn were unexpectedly heavenly to you. There you were, freed from all clothing, freed from all concerns for tonight. You really missed this.

All these thoughts interrupted suddenly by his blue green eyes hovering over you, mesmerizing you completely as you felt his tip graze over your dripping slit, entering you with ease, for your body welcomed it.

“Y/N” he breathed with longing, for he was no longer teasing you.

“Say it again...” you said, as you moved along with him.

“Y/N” he said with devotion as he began to move faster.

An important mission awaited tomorrow. But tonight, you’ll both forget about it, and get lost in each other instead. cause you simply could.

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

Next day morning, the Intermission was as expected. You watched Harper exit the conference hall, walking briskly across the lobby. While he walked, he extended his hand out to his bodyguard, who handed him a  bottle of water. Once you spotted him gulp down the bottle whilst entering his private waiting room, you knew it was time.

“Eames ...let me do this, let me talk to him” you said, sitting next to him on the armchair, as Yusuf prepared the necessary dose. After much contemplation, Eames gaze on yours was full of faith.

“But then how can he help you?” Dom asked, standing there. Taking out a photo from your trouser pocket, you showed it to Eames.

“By becoming this..” you said. Observing it for a few seconds, he sighed. “Well I hope you’re right on this” he said. Before you could answer, the drowsiness overcame you in an instant, along with a complete blackout.  

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

The peaceful sounds of the countryside called for you, opening your eyes to a beautiful but grand bungalow surrounded by a colorful garden.

And by the entrance, you saw him.

Paul Harper sat on his favorite reclining chair, reading a newspaper as you slowly approached him. Did not take a few seconds before he was startled by your sudden appearance.

Sighing heavily, he flashed  you a look of pure disgust.

“It’s you...” he said, “ How did you find me?” By that he actually meant this place.

“Well..” you began, “ You’ve kept me so close all this time, you didn’t expect me to find out all about your secret home? I am an architect after all”

To your surprise, he did not appear to look so shocked. You did not let it bother you.

“Paul...You above all others know I’m never gonna say yes to your little project” you said, folding your hands, ”So why don’t we solve this rationally? Just let me go...”

The middle aged man merely scoffed. Laying his newspaper down, he pointed at you, “Do you know why I chose to keep you? Huh? ...Cause you’re weak..” he said with confidence, “You’re weak...and I know you’ll never be strong enough to defy me. Eventually you’ll say yes for sure”

Your first clenched as you attempted to suppress your anger with all your might. For you were not a fool to risk it all for these petty emotions.

Your lack of response caused Harper to laugh in victory, picking up the newspaper once again.

“Well...in that case...I bet the world would love to know all about you and Catherine” you said casually. Harper froze.

“Yeah ...that’s right” you took a step closer, “And i know...you’ll probably say it’s my word against yours, and having a mistress isn’t such a major issue for a millionaire such as yourself” you continued, “But thanks to your entrapment...I was lucky enough to get to know both your wife Diane and your mistress. And what a shock to know that ...Catherine is actually the wife of the CEO of your Rival Company...Imagine the damage that could be done to your own business and both marriages...Whew! What an escalation right??” You said, with no regret, courage built up fully as you finished.

You’ve never seen Harper this pale and speechless with shock with all the information that was placed before him.

“Yeah...” you scoffed, “ So think twice before calling me weak ...”

“Paul!”

You both turned to find Catherine, his beautiful mistress wave at them from the gate. Turning back to face Harper, you noticed how his expression had gotten worse.

“You know what to do Paul...” arms still folded, you made your statement.

And suddenly your knees felt weak, for you faced nothing but a complete blackout.

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

“Y/N wake up”

Fluttering your eyes open, Dom was first face you saw.

“Hurry ...Paul is about to wake up soon” he said, helping you up. You nodded, watching Eames slowly wake up as well.

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

As planned, you bumped into Harper by “mere accident” as he exited the waiting room. Your nonchalant expression was quite the contrast to his shocked one the moment he laid eyes on you. And coincidence would have it when Catherine would be at the hotel at that very moment, casually running over to you to greet hello in front of Harper himself. It seemed like a nightmare scenario come to life. You saw him swiftly move into the conference hall with discretion.

As Catherine left after some small talk, you could not help but remember Eames’ accurate portrayal of Harper’s mistress in the dream, and how similar it was to the real deal. The Mission was complete.

“Ma’am...we’ll be leaving in half an hour. Please have your things ready “ one of Harper’s bodyguards walked up to speak to you, “And…this time, another car will come to pick you up”

“Noted, Thank you”

As he left, you spotted Dom and team making their way to the exit, in an inconspicuous fashion to assure their own safety.

A nod and a plain smile was all you could offer them from afar, but your gratitude was filled in millions.

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

The sound of the ocean waves was what you’ve always enjoyed without a doubt. But you clearly enjoyed it more today, sitting on the bench. It had been a few days since Paul Harper miraculously announced how he had found a 'more suitable architect' for his project, furthermore congratulating you on the fact your so-called financial debt had been dissolved “to your luck” as he phrased it.

And suddenly, you were free as a bird to walk out of that door, as if nothing happened.

“You sure you’re not chilly?”

You chuckled by the soothing voice of Eames, as you found him standing next to the bench.

“I think I can manage thanks” you replied, ushering him to sit next to you. You turned back forward, resuming to watch the people go on about their day at the beach that late afternoon.

“I got an offer from Dom…by the way” you said, “...to be a part of the team…he was quite impressed”

From the corner of your eye, you waited for Eames to react.

“So...am I to understand... that we’re teammates now?” He asked casually. You smiled, “It appears we are...” you replied, heart filled with hope for new adventures to come. You felt him nod cooly, “Right then ...” getting up, he turned to leave. You nodded, understanding of the his possibly busy schedule.

Though it was short, it warmed your heart by the mere sight of the man.  

“Oh!” You watched him turn back, “Almost forgot” he said. You stood up in response.

“Forgot wha-?”

Eames’ kiss interrupted you once more. You should have known, but you didn’t care. Pulling you closer by the waist, he fed you the sweetness he could provide, and that you enjoyed.

“I believe we’re going to have plenty of fun...being teammates” he breathed, hands moving further south, gripping tightly. You bit your lip with a smile, savoring this splendid feeling of freedom you were offered, and which you earned.

———————————————————————

A/N: Hope you all enjoyed it. Want more Eames?

Check my MASTERLIST for more.

[toddysdiaries]

Sweet Boy Part 3: My Boy - David Dobrik x Reader (SMUT)

((GIF IS NOT MINE))

Pairing: David Dobrik x Reader

Requested?: yes, by anon:

‘ONLY SHIT, wtf was part2? I LOVED! by far one of the best I have ever read, please post part 3 soon, “I’m your sweet boy again?” this part broke my heart and made me horny at the same time 😂😂’

Summary: You finish David’s punishment and deal with his ‘I love you’.

Words: 3,502 words

Warnings: paddling, spanking, dom/sub relationship, cock cages, sex,

A/N: Requests are open!

Your eyes were wide, breath hitched, as your mind tried helplessly to process what David had just said to you. Your first thought was to gently slip out from under David and leave, but you couldn’t just leave a punished sub to wake up alone.

Mind going into overdrive, you looked down at David’s face, looking angelic in his sleeping hours. You had always wondered if the arrangement between you and David would progress into something more as you spent more time together and got closer.

If you were being honest, you definitely had feelings more than just those in a dominant/submissive relationship and definitely more than that of your sugar baby/sugar daddy relationship. David regularly spoiled you with more than just the agreed prices of your arrangement, but as time went on the gifts became way more personalised. David had gifted you the dining set that you’d been saving for, a Tiffany necklace that you had taken a shining to, the television that you had been debating buying and countless other things that you’d give a fleeting mention.

It scared you how well David knew you when you barely knew anything about David. You understood why David rarely spoke about his own life because your arrangement was to help him deal with the stresses in his life and talking about them would negate that. But you had recently realised just how little you knew about David. No matter the fact that you definitely did have feelings for David, you were definitely not in love with him. It scared you that David thought he was in love with you when perhaps he was just confusing feelings with gratefulness for your relationship.

You wondered if you were overthinking it. Maybe David was just high off of his punishment, maybe he was just sleepy. Perhaps he forgot it was you in bed with him - okay, that was stupid who else would’ve been in bed with him.

Faced with a sleepless night, you carefully disentangled yourself from David, who generally slept like a log after any scene, let alone a punishment. You pulled on one of David’s sweatshirt and ventured out into the living room.

You weren’t surprised to find Natalie sat on the couch, watching tv, you thought you knew her reasonably well by this point.

“Are you alright?” Natalie pressed pause and turned to where you’d ventured into the kitchen and grabbed a water bottle.

You gulped down half of the water and then aggressively tightened the lid back up. Natalie knew everything about your relationship with David, hell she probably heard over half of that punishment, so you had no issues letting it all out. “I just paddled David’s ass, then he told me he loved me and fell asleep.”

Natalie held back a snicker, wondering what David had done to earn himself a paddling, maybe she didn’t want to know. “What part are you upset about?”

“Mainly the ‘I love you’ part, but I wish he hadn’t fallen asleep, because then we could’ve spoken about it.” You flopped down on the couch next to Natalie and hid your head in your hands.

Humming, Natalie gently rubbed your shoulder. “And why are you upset that he said ‘I love you’?”

You sighed heavily. “Because I don’t think he does. I think he got caught up in the emotion of his punishment and the aftercare.”

Natalie bit her lip as she debated whether or not she should tell you about the conversations that she'd had with David about you. "Y/N, he does love you. He thinks you're brilliant."

You looked up, turning to Natalie. "Wait, what? David is genuinely in love with me?"

Nodding sheepishly, wondering if she'd just majorly betrayed David's trust, Natalie started to tell you what David had told her. "He loves that you take such good care of him, that you go above and beyond your arrangement and that you're such a good dom. He loves that you're so ambitious and that you're making it happen. Most of all, he loves that you didn't question the fact that he's a sub, but also a sugar daddy."

You thought about what Natalie had said, you believed that David loved you and you could kind of see why, but you still couldn't return all of those feelings. "I just feel like I hardly know him." You revealed, playing with the sleeves of David's sweatshirt. "He always leaves the rest of his life at the door, and he's just my sweet boy for however long he's with me. He doesn't like to talk about himself. The only things I know about him are from you or the very first time I met him."

"I think you just need to talk to him about it, if he knows that you want to know more about him then maybe he will open up." Natalie squeezed your hand, and when you nodded, she pressed play on the tv again.

You watched a couple of episodes of Natalie's show with her before you went back to David's bedroom. David was in the centre of the bed, pillow squeezed between his arms, turning every so often with a small whimper. You slipped back into the bed and pulled the pillow from David, letting him curl back up to you.

You woke up the next morning, David still cuddled up in your arms. You felt anxious that you had to have such a serious conversation with David, especially since you needed to finish David's punishment first.

"Sweet boy, wake up." You pressed kisses to David's cheek, gently shaking a shoulder.

David grunted, and his eyes slowly blinked open. A smile spread across David's face, and he stretched in your arms. "Morning."

"Don't look so cutely at me mister, you still have eight more swats left." You schooled your face, looking sternly at your sub.

Pouting, David's hand went to his bum, gently cupping the warm, sore skin.

"We'll do it before we get up, then it'll all be done with and put behind us." You told David. "I'll have to warm your bum back up with some warm-up swats first, so I'll take away two paddle swats."

David pouted again but nodded. "Can I lay across your lap this time, please miss?"

Your face softened slightly, and you wish that you'd given David the option the previous night. You had just assumed that it would be a bit too humiliating for David. "Of course, sweet boy, your cage will be going back on first though." David wasn't hard this morning because he'd been so exhausted, but you were well aware that he'd get hard at least through the warm-up swats.

Nodding, David pouted at the thought of his cock being caged for another five days.

"Can you get me the cage and the paddle please, sweet boy." You sat up against the headboard and David dislodged himself from where he was wrapped around you. Your naked sub jumped out of bed and pick the items up from where you'd discarded them in the box the previous night.

David hurried back over to you, pushing the offending items into your open hands. "Thank you, sweet boy." You locked the cage onto David's cock, rubbing his thigh as you did so. "Okay,  over my lap." You placed a pillow over your lap so that David's cock cage didn't pinch you or dig into your skin and then David flopped over your lap.

"Alright, sweet boy, I'm going to give you eight warm-up swats and then your six swats with the paddle." You gently rubbed your hands over the bruised skin of David's ass. "Okay? Colour?"

David shifted slightly, hands curling into the duvet in anticipation. "Green, miss. Do I have to count?"

You pondered David's question for a moment or two. Usually, you would make David count the swats you were giving him, but today you just wanted to get it done so you could officially be done with his punishment. You also wanted to get it done so that you could have an important conversation with David.

"I'll count them today." You decided, wanting David to be able to know how many swats he'd been given and how many he had left.

"Okay, miss." David bowed his head and waited for the first swat.

You delivered the warm-up swats quickly, but you thoroughly worked over the skin of David's ass and his sit spots. "That's ten, sweet boy. Colour, please?"

David shuffled slightly, you knew that this kind of spanking turned him on more than hurt him, but you needed to warm the skin up before you hit it with a hard object. "Green miss."

"Alright, we're going to do the eight paddle swats now. Would you like them all at once or in two groups of four?" You asked, wanting to give David the option to either get it over with quicker or to have the pain spread out a bit more.

Shifting again, David paused, it wasn't often that you gave him options on how you dominated him, you always spoke everything through with David and checked that it was okay first, but you hardly ever gave David options. "All at once please miss." Having the swats delivered in groups of four had helped David the previous night because he was receiving so many, but eight was nothing compared with the prospect of twenty.

"Alright sweet boy, you remember your colours?" You checked in with him again.

"Green for good, yellow for stop, lets talk and red for stop right now." David summarised quickly, squirming on your lap.

"Good boy." You praised, leaning down to press a kiss to David's neck and then you picked up the paddle.

You brought the paddle down on the seat of David's left ass cheek and then his right, you repeated that and then moved down to the tender sit spots just under the curve of his ass. You gave the last four swats over the sit spots, counting them as you went. When you had given the last swat, David erupted into sobs and flopped.

You gently pulled at David's underarms, and he lazily moved so he could straddle your lap, bum lifted in the air, and threw his arms around you. You gently shushed and cooed at David, your hands drawing gentle circles on his back. "It's okay sweet boy, your punishment is all over now."

"I'm sorry for being a brat." David hiccuped, sobs wetting the skin of your shoulder. "Thank you for punishing me, miss."

"Hey, none of that, it's all done with now. But you know you've still got five days left with your cage." You gently stroked David's messy hair, scratching lightly at the back of his neck.

David nodded into your neck, sobs calmed down to stuttered breaths. "Can we have a bath?"

You grinned at your sub. "Of course, sweet boy." David removed himself from your lap and tugged at your hand until you stood up. David's bath was massive, you'd only used it once with him because you usually had to rush off in the mornings, sometimes the night before, to avoid being seen by David's friends. The one thing that David had revealed about his friends is that he wasn't ashamed of you or your arrangement, but he wasn't sure if his friends would understand and he wanted to keep you to himself for as long as possible.

You both washed yourselves and your hair and then leant back to relax. As you relaxed in the bath, David between your legs, your mind thought back to the conversation that you had with Natalie the night before. You could feel your heart start to beat quicker as you realised that you needed to talk to David about what he'd said.

"Are you okay, Y/N?" David looked over his shoulder at you. "Your heart is beating like crazy."

You let out a deep breath and then cleared your throat. "Do you know what you said to me last night before you fell asleep?"

David tensed in your arms, hesitating. "Yes, I know what I said." You waited for him to elaborate. "I said 'I love you'."

Letting out a short breath, you shifted. "And do you?" You paused. "I spoke to Natalie."

"Yes." That time David didn't hesitate. "I do love you. I'm sure you know why since you spoke to Natalie."

There was an uncomfortable silence. "I feel like I don't know anything about you, David. I understand why you don't talk about yourself, but I can't be in love with someone that I don't know."

David turned around, so he was facing you. "But you could grow to love me?" David's words were slightly shaky.

"I definitely have feelings for you, I just don't know you enough to love you yet." Your eyes flickered over David's face looking for signs of hurt, glad when you found none.

"I get it, I do. I just wanted you to be completely separate from my crazy life. Then, by the time I realised I wanted you to be in every part of my life, it seemed too late to backtrack." David sucked his lip into his mouth as he waited for your reaction.

You paused. "What are you saying?" You started to feel a bit silly sat in lukewarm bathwater having such a serious conversation, so you stood up and got out of the bath, bringing a large fluffy towel around you.

"Where are you going?" David's lower lip wobbled slightly.

You turned back around with another towel, holding it open for David. "The water's getting cold and this isn't a conversation to have in the bath, David, come on." David shuffled out of the bath, letting you wrap him up in the towel. "Come on, sweet boy."

The pair of you went back into the bedroom, and you dried off and pulled on the change of clothes that you had brought with you.

"Bend over, sweet boy, you need some lotion." David silently walked over to his desk and leant over it, wincing slightly as you rubbed the sore skin of his ass.

You watched as David pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt and then changed the sheets on the bed, getting rid of the evidence of the night before.

"You never answered." Your voice broke through the silence of the room as David put the duvet back on the bed.

David turned to look at you, half jumping at the sudden noise in the silent room. "I want you to be my girlfriend. I still want you to be my dominant, but I think we'll have to make changes to our other arrangement, it would be weird to be paying my girlfriend to be with me."

You giggled slightly. "I guess I'll have to look for another job then." A relieved look crossed over David's face as he realised what you were saying.

Shaking his head, David stepped towards you. "I'm going to keep paying your rent until you move in with me or you graduate and get a decent job. If you get a job then between that and college I'll never see you!" David pouted playfully.

Nodding you grasped David's hand. "God, Ellie really gave me some good advice, huh?"

David chuckled, his eyes watering slightly, god your boyfriend was soppy. "I wanna meet her, I wanna meet all of your friends, and I want you to meet mine."

Your hands wrapped around David's neck slowly bringing his face down to yours. "That can be arranged."

David pressed his lips against yours, it felt slightly odd, since you were usually the one to initiate all of your kisses, but you kissed back enthusiastically. You were surprised when David pulled you backwards onto the bed with him, ending up straddling David's thighs.

Breaking the kiss, you tugged David's sweatshirt off and started to press hickeys into his collarbones, grinning against his skin when he whimpered and squirmed beneath you. That's when you remembered that David was still caged and stilled for a moment, you kind of really wanted to have sex now, but you also needed to retain your power over him.

"What?" David whined slightly.

You gently bit David's nipple, inciting another whine. "Your cock is currently locked up." David looked like he could cry at that moment.

"Please, Y/N, please." David's hand slipped under your top, fingers caressing the underside of your boob through your bra.

Leaning over David's face, you smirked. "Are you begging?"

David giggled slightly, and then words came spilling out of his mouth. "Yes, yes Y/N, I'm begging. Please, please let me out of the cage. It can go straight back on after, I'll do a whole extra day. Please!" David's eyes widened slightly when he realised what he said.

"Are you gonna be a good boy, baby?" You asked, pulling down David's sweatpants.

"I'll be so, so good, please Y/N." David looked down to where his cock was resting in the pink cock cage and pouted. "Please, Y/N, please."

You ran a finger down the cage, gently nudging David's mostly soft cock. "Just this once."

David's eyes lit up and watched eagerly as you pulled the key out and unlocked the cage. David's cock perked up immediately. You pulled your own clothes off and straddled David again, your pussy sliding over the hardness between David's legs.

Head craning up to try to meet yours, David pursed his lips, hands helping you to slide over his cock. You bent down and kissed David, moaning into his mouth when his thumb extended outwards and rubbed over your clit.

"Such a good boy for me." You murmured and pulled back. You kneeled up, lifting your leg slightly, so David's cock pushed in between your legs. You teased David by rubbing the head of his cock against your clit and then pushing it just inside your entrance.

David let out a soft whimper and tightened his hold on your hips, but refrained from bucking his hips. His thumb pressed further into your clit, rubbing it slowly. "Please move, please."

You took pity on your boyfriend and sunk down onto him slowly, watching as David threw his head back, mouth dropping open in a silent moan. You gently scratched at David's chest and pinched at his nipples, inciting a whine from David.

Twisting your hips, you nudged David's cock against your g-spot, Davids' thumb still rubbing at your clit.  You started to rock up and down, aided by David's hands which were starting to bruise the skin of your hips.

Taking David's lips in a biting kiss, you moved up and down on his cock, gasping into the kiss, while David met your thrusts with his own. You kept the pace up, doubling your efforts when David started to keen underneath you, whining like a puppy.

You raised to your climax, taking over for David rubbing your clit when he got too into it to continue.

"Can I cum, please Y/N, please?" David's big brown eyes looked up into yours, his lower lip pouted downwards but quivered lightly as he tried to hold in his climax.

You shook your head, you weren't trying to be mean to David, you just weren't there yet. "Hold it for a little bit longer, sweet boy, I'm not there just yet."

David whined and before you'd realised what was happening David had rolled you over, so he was on top. You moaned loudly as David started to fuck into you. This was definitely something new for the pair of you, you rarely had full on sex anyway, but for David to have a major role in it was even rarer.

Something about David's behaviour left a hot feeling in the pit of your stomach. "Oh god!" You moaned, head thrown back, letting out a high pitched whine when David's fingers found their way to your clit. "Just a bit more, just a bit more, sweet boy."

David grunted. "Cum for me Y/N, please, I'm gonna explode. Cum. Now."

You let out a very high pitched moan, your boyfriend's dirty talk sending you right over the edge. "Cum, sweet boy, it's okay." You felt the warmth seep inside you as David came with a grunt, breathing heavily as he caught himself on his elbows, so he didn't crush you.

After catching his breath, David gently pulled out of you and picked up his discarded cock cage. He pulled the wet wipes out of the drawer in his bedside table and gently wiped between your legs and then his own cock.

"Here." David passed the cock cage to you, without a semblance of sadness.

You locked David back into the cage, and he curled into your side, pouting his lips in a request for a kiss. "I love you." he murmured.

You hummed and kissed his lips. "You're my sweet boy, David. All mine."

David mumbled into your shoulder. "All yours."

[greenbergsays]

hello!! do you have anywhere we could see your m/m book recs? i wanna read more and super trust ur taste, but outside of stalking ur blog for book mentions, do u have a goodreads set up or anything?

hello, friend!

I do not have a Goodreads, no. But as my foray into the world of m/m books is quite new, I can give you the precisely three books that I have found worth reccing so far. (I do have them under the recs tag rn but I think I may have to make that more specific at a later date, it’s too general.)

I will say in advance, though, that the books I seem to like the most all feature an age difference. May-December, I think they call it? Not sure why, but whatever.

Rec #1: Kidnapped by the Pirate by Keira Andrews

Older gay pirate and his virgin twink captive, amazing shenanigans, some angst, happy ending. I only ever do happy endings.

GREAT book, the one that led me down this road in the first place, full of some nice feels. I could really go on all day, don’t get me started.

Also, I do have the audiobook to this one, it’s a nice listen. I thoroughly enjoy the narrator.

There are, I want to say – two? threats of sexual assault. Maybe three. No, I definitely think it’s three.

Two of them are made toward the twink’s sister, one is made to the twink himself. 

I, personally, was not too miffed by them because it’s a book about pirates, but I know it can be an issue for some. There’s only so much wholesomeness you can achieve without it being entirely unrealistic and I get the feeling the author was going for as much historical accuracy as she could muster. 

But really, this book is as wholesome as a book about a pirate falling in love with the guy he’s keeping as ransom can be without being so unrealistic as to take you out of the story.

Keira Andrews also has, among other things, a duology about a Secret Service agent falling in love with the President’s son. You can find the first book here. I don’t find it as great as Kidnapped, but it’s still a nice read!

Rec #2: His Cocky Valet by Cole McCade

Amazingly hot story about a billionaire playboy heir that tries to do the right thing and take over his dad’s company when said father gets sick, but he’s hurting and in over his head and doesn’t know what to do.

Enter his newly hired valet who takes control of everything and helps baby billionaire stay afloat. Ends up domming him deliciously but it’s more emotional domming than whips and cuffs.

Very many Criminal!Bucky/sugarbaby!Steve feels, if you are a fan of that ‘verse.

Does not have audiobook, for which I am definitely pouting about.

Rec #3: Family Man by Heidi Cullinan & Marie Sexton

Forty year old Italian divorcee (thrice over) finally decides to admit that he might be gay. He’s afraid to admit it to his family because he doesn’t know how they would take it.

Enter College Student whose grandmother is an old friend of Italian Guy’s family. They decide to try things out.

This one does feature some instances of homophobia, both internalized and otherwise, and College Student’s mom is a lifelong alcoholic, for which he as many emotional scars.

It does have an audiobook, but I wasn’t 100% sold on the narrator, so I read it. I might go back and try it again, though, because this book gave me some amazing wriggle-happy feels and also, “ugh, why can’t I have a relationship like this? fuck everything.”

That being said, it DOES switch between third person (Italian Guy) and first person (College Student) POVs, which I find an odd choice, but it wasn’t as terrible as the m/m/m book that I tried to read, which switched between all three of their POVs and all of them were in first person.

And, okay, fine, I think I’ll rec one more:

Rec #4: Love In Spades by Charlie Cochet

Ex-military now-top notch security agent assigned to protect billionaire who is being targeted. Sparks fly, shenanigans happen, they fall in love.

I hesitated to rec this one for two reasons: 1) I wasn’t a hundred percent sold on the writing? It’s not terrible by any means, but it doesn’t draw me in the way the three above did, and 2) I was legitimately more interested in the side relationships that popped up than anything that happened between the two main characters.

Of course, that could probably be because the side relationships hit my particular buttons more than the main characters of this one and I already know at least one of those relationships is gonna be the subject of their own book, so I will absolutely be reading Book #2 when it comes out.

Anyways, those are my current recs! I hope at least one of them is to your taste :) Let me know what you think if you give any a try!

EDIT: I now have a recs page, in case anyone is interested.

[dcddyslittleprincess]

Impact play (My experiences)

Okay, so I plan on talking about impact play which is: a human sexual practice in which one person is struck by another person for the sexual gratification of either or both parties. (Wikipedia). So, spanking, face slaps, etc. I am not claiming to be an expert this is just some of my experiences and some tips to maybe help you understand what it is better. I do want to say that I will be talking about soft impact play. I have never been hit hard enough to leave marks or burses. ON TO THE POST! 

The first time my daddy ever hit me was a spanking. He had known I was into them before hand. We had talked about it thoroughly and he did it softly (at the time it hurt a bit but now it would most likely feel like a love tap). It was nice and wasn’t meant to be a punishment. That brings me into my first topic. Impact play punishment vs. pleasure. Punishment should hurt, of course, but if your sub is an extreme masochist then impact will not be a punishment. You will need to find something else to do as punishments. My daddy has now moved away from spankings because he learned I was being bratty intentionally to get them (if you want to know my punishments let me know I might make a post). BUT just because spanking is no longer a punishment it doesn't mean it cant be a reward or even a light punishment. For example if my daddy is just feel frisky he will give me spankings but they wont be hard and they will mostly be for his pleasure and he knows through his pleasure I, myself, gain pleasure from serving him. If he does use spankings as a punishment it’s usually not for something that needs to be, seriously, corrected. So, if I, lets say, walk away in a store a few feet (breaking a rule). He doesn't want me to do it again but it isn't like “you can not do this again! that was very bad!” I will get spanked HARD so it hurts. 

After he had done spankings a couple of times it seemed natural. I did a wrong thing and i got spanked. I trusted him and he knew that! One day we were doing the deed and he slapped me across the face (this next part is very important!) we hadn’t talked about it before hand and he waited to see my reaction. He waited to see if I was okay and if I wanted to stop. I was fine. I liked it and once I looked up at him and gave a soft smile he continued. I later said I enjoyed him slapping me and he laughed and said he wasn’t sure if I'd like it or not. This can be a lesson in being spontaneous with impact play. Keep in mind the hit was not hard. It’s okay to be spontaneous in bdsm but please keep in mind that you need to judge your partners reaction and they need to trust you as you do them. Daddy only slapped me once that time and we talked about it afterwards. If I had told him when he did it wasn’t okay or that I wanted to stop he would've. Another time he slapped me I was caught less off-guard by it and because he already knew I liked it he didn't paused and he hit me twice. I was fine again but if I wasn’t we would've stopped. Later on I told him that because he had spit on his hand (from me he didn’t purposely spit in it) it stung. He said he knew and he was sorry. I told him it was okay and if it was seriously bad I would've told him to stop. You have to know yourself. It doesn't matter if you’re a submissive or a dom you need to know how far you can go and how far is to far. 

Because I think it will help understanding I’m going to include what daddy had to say on the topic 

Daddy: There are a lot of feelings that can come from physical domination. Every place that I touch you gets me a different response and I get so much pleasure from toying with your body in ways that makes you want more. When you are a brat it’s instinctive to show you who is dominate. When you refuse to listen or ignore what I command I need to find different ways to imply that. When you're a brat I feel the need to take control, so I take it. When I bend you over my knee I'm showing you what happens when you challenge me. I get so much pleasure out of talking control of you and because of our connection as dom and sub I can feel you taking pleasure when you give me what I want. When control is freely given I can show you just how far I can take you. Which can give pleasure to parts of you that might not otherwise be touched, like tying you up and slapping you. I test to see how far I can take your body, like you're my personal slut. In doing so we have to trust each other in a way that transcends whatever lengths we go to. Which is why it can be the most pleasurable and most intimate. When I hit you it’s not because I want to hurt you. I'm testing how far my control of you can go. To make you cum in ways you couldn't with vanilla shit and it feels so fucking good for me and you. 

This is all very true. I love showing him my devotion to him and our dynamic. I love him having control over me and whether he’s spanking me, giving me face slaps, or slapping my tits around I enjoy the feeling of how he’s dominate over me and how I feel put in my place. How safe and secure I feel. 

I do want to add that impact play isn’t for everyone and if you are scared but want to try it start off lightly then move up to higher things. The main important thing is trust. I can feel a difference in how daddy is now with striking me (in any form) and how he used to be. That’s because in the beginning he didn’t trust himself enough not to hit me to hard or trust that I would tell him when it was to hard. He didn’t trust if he could read my reactions correctly and it was because we were still learning each others bodies but after awhile he gained confidence and we grew closer; which allowed us to go further with our play. 

All in all the most important thing in impact play is trust, consent (of course), and bravery. Yes, when he slapped me he didn't have consent BUT you have to realize just like with regular sex things happen. I also hinted that it could be fun to try. So, I did not verbally say “I want to try slapping” but that's why he used caution. I am NOT saying go around smacking your partner. Have a sense that they would like to try it and judge how they react BUT IF YOU CAN TALK ABOUT IT FIRST. My daddy didn’t know that he was going to do it until the moment happened that’s why we didn't discuss it.Things get heated as I said. BUT TALK,TALK, TALK. 

I hope you guys, gals, genderless teddy bears, and non-binary unicorns enjoyed this post. I know it was a long one but I wanted to cover most everything. I might make a most of m punishments as I said and also about how/when it’s okay to be spontaneous in bdsm. Until next time. Bye ✌