#not to sound like a needy little sub but uhhh

[jazzyderaoz]

I have a request… just for tonight.

I guess I’ll just come right out and say it: Which one of you is going to fuck me like the unholy manwhore I am?

It uh… happens rarely but… god damn am I ever in the mood for it right now. I’ve soaked my boxers, I’m sitting here rocking and rubbing up against the inside of my jeans, the rough denim feels ugh so damn good… at this point it’s not even funny anymore, I need to be fucked.

So one time deal, okay darling? Take this as an invitation to send me an ask and tell me what you’d do to me… take advantage while I’m so damn weak for it…

Help me get off while I fuck myself, make it good, damn- I need it so bad right now.

[privitivium]

hi im requesting this one again cuz i dont remember if i sent it 😭 so um

submissive!teacher x mean!dom!ftm!reader, edging and lots of teasing, especially if its abt his wife and stuff :3 like just kissing his legs and biting at his thighs while hes begging to cum, no actual sex tho!!

— 🍸

you did not. good thing you did!!

sub amab teacher x mean dom ftm reader...,,,

cw; edging, teasing, mild overstim, degredation

staring up at him boredly between his legs while ghosting your fist along his cock. you think it hurt him more than nibbling inner thighs while hes begging to cum,,, you clearly had a thing for bullying him,,, something he mildly encourages without conscious decision - a whiner, such a fucking whiner !! talking about, "please, please, please, i've been so good, please let me cum." uhhh!! no, you don't think so... you've barely started your reign of overstimulation and he's folding so quickly? you think he just likes begging. it is, afterall, his favorite thing to do. "... please? hug me..." after cornering you in the hallway - quickly, when no other people were crowding the halls. so needy. i mean, at least you had a bit of class... boxers nearly dripping with your own slickness - cunt producing more than needed ! seriously, how embarrassing... yet here you were, such a trooper ignoring your aching core to finger yourself and instead nipping at the flesh of his thick thighsㅡ

"eww, bro..." you knew how much he hated you calling him bro as a discreetly dating couple,,, giggling to yourself as you jerk your hand roughly around the base of his girth - flicking your tongue out; "look at that, your tip is all dark..." guiding his cock upwards; tip flushed and weeping cum for him to see. you glance up to see him already staring at you - his eyes flit away from yours; "does your wife know how to do it like this?" you hum inquiringly, proceeding to sound disgustingly innocent as you jerk your hand briefly -

"... i dont think she does - if you keep coming to me with problems like these, sir..." making sure to quiet your voice, teasingly and slowly circling your just underneath his head; "so embarrassing... you like a guy more than you do your wife... that's gonna be so painful for her..." you coo, gently blowing on his flustered cockhead - nearly ghosting your lips against him before pulling away at the last second. and he cries out as if he was in pain. writhing in his chair, gripping the arm rests, trying so hard to restrain himself from touching himself or shoving you down onto his prickㅡ"a-ahnnh.. s-stop... please. been so good." have you? have you really? obviously, you don't think so...

"you're such a disgusting pervert..." dipping inbetween his thighs and nipping softly, edging closer toward his groin - his cock twitching in your hand and he begins to squirm... spreading his naked legs open ; his pants pooling at his ankles - getting his chair all messy as cum dripped down the base of his cock and down his balls and... down to his chair... yuck. "... really, you have no shame do you?" he smelled so good though,,, the smell of his sex. burying your face into his inner thigh and your hand leaving his slickened prick to hold onto his squishy thighs, nipping and leaving little hickies near his sack - he was just so lovely, you felt like a zombie... nibbling to get a little taste of his flesh coated in a thin sheet of sweat - before you were gently taking him back in hand.

it wasn't long before he couldn't hold back... too excited to hold back-!! whimpering softly and scooting closer - a soft mantra of fuckfuckfuck leaving his lips as his lower intestines coil - that lovely fucking feeling of an orgasm, the product of his lovers teasing-!! letting his orgasm wrack through his body - jerking up into your hands and fucking himself into your first before - "ah,"... ㅡ you were admiring the cum in your hands before looking at him playfully disdainfully...

[fandomfluffandfuck]

Steve is the type of baffled needy sub who starts mouth watering when Bucky takes off the belt but he doesn't know if he wants Bucky to pull out the cock or to use the belt as a whip

Say it again and say it slow 😮‍💨😮‍💨

Steve is the type of baffled needy sub who starts mouth watering when Bucky takes off the belt but he doesn't know if he wants Bucky to pull out the cock or to use the belt as a whip

This is 🤌🏻 e x a c t l y 🤌🏻 what I am here for. Needy, pathetic, big sub Steve who can't help but get a little dumb whenever Bucky does something he finds attractive. Whether it be when he takes off his belt, when he flexes as he stretches (or the little groan he lets out at the same time, Jesus), when he bends over in his dark wash jeans, when he makes faces and sounds as he lifts weights, or when he's doing something as simple as reading, focusing, and looking so smart and hot. All of it. He looks so, so good all the time, and it leaves Steve melty and whimpery. All the time. He's weak for Bucky.

And the bastard knows it, he'll catch Steve looking, melting in place and trying not to show it, and he will just let the corner of his mouth tick up. "What's goin' through that pretty head'a yours over there, sweetheart, huh?"

"Uhhh-"

"Nothing, hmm? I figured. Ain't never got any thoughts, do you?" Bucky teases, getting up from his seat to come over and stand in front of Steve.

Steve has to lift his chin all the way up to meet his eyes when he gets in front of him. Towering. It's harder than anything to tear his eyes away from Bucky's thighs.

"'S okay," Bucky coos, thumbing his cheekbone, then his chin, cupping his face. "I know your brain gets all mushy so easy. All that heat makes you flustered, and it doesn't leave any room for thoughts. I know."

Steve feels his eyelids instantly go heavy. Mentally, he's chanting, yeah, yeah, it does, but in reality, a cat has his tongue.

"Trained you too well, huh, baby? Fucked you so good everytime I saw you when we met that now whenever you see me your silly little brain thinks it's being fucked, doesn't it? All you know is, oh. Bucky. I better spread my legs an' go limp so he can have me."

Steve whimpers, swallowing heavily. He can't nod with Bucky's hand on his chin. He's not sure he'd be able to nod anyway because just like Bucky is saying... he's going limp. Going stupid.

"It's cute." Bucky shakes his chin where he's got it pinched between his thumb and index finger. "I've got my own lil puppy. A sweet, dumb puppy that rolls over for pets whenever I walk into th'room."

Steve just lets his eyes roll back into his head, halfway to panting already as Bucky leans down and locks their lips together filthily.

"You gonna start trailin' after me next, followin' me 'round, hunping m' leg an' whining? Who needs a leash when you're so well trained?" Bucky asks against his lips, his hand around his throat.

Steve sways toward him, swooning, moaning with his mouth wide open, all easy and slutty. He can't decide if he wants to keep being easy and keep being smothered with mean but sweet sounding works and messy kisses or if he wants to resist so he needs more training, more hard dicking and more spankings with a belt. He can't decide. Bucky is right. There are no fucking thoughts in his head.

[hearts-hunger]

half-cocked || javier peña x reader

Read on AO3 | Masterlist

Summary: Javi’s your boss, and he’s so damn stubborn. You’d have to be crazy to go off half-cocked twice in one night, right?

Pairings: Javier Peña x DEA Agent!Reader

Genre: smut, porn without plot (18+ only!)

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: god uhhh filth, oral (m and f receiving), thigh riding, choking, praise kink, dirty talk, hand jobs, unprotected sex, dom javi, sub reader, fluff at the end bc i think smut always deserves some fluff ♡ also, totally unbeta-ed.

A/N: full disclosure i was drunk on vodka cran and listening to “drew barrymore” by bryce vine when i wrote this, so it might be terrible or it might be really good. i just want javi to lovingly & tenderly top the fuck out of me :) let me know what you think!

“I told you not to go near those guys.”

Javi crossed his arms over his chest, waiting for you to answer, to explain why you’d done the exact opposite of what he’d told you to do. You felt yourself blush, face heating with anger and embarrassment and something you refused to acknowledge.

“I thought I could get something out of them,” you said, going on the defensive. “They know something, Javi. It would have been stupid to pass up an opportunity to get some intel from them.”

You watched the way his jaw worked.

“No, what would have been stupid is if you had gotten hurt,” he said, his voice tight with frustration. You almost wished he would yell at you and get it over with; this cold anger was harder for you to bear.

He’d expressly told you to stay away from the group of narcos you’d been tagging for a week, and he was your boss. But you knew you could get something from them - they’d talk to you quicker than they would talk to Javi, and you both knew it. You never disobeyed a direct order, especially not from Javi, but he was being so stubborn. You went ahead and questioned them anyways, and Javi had caught you red-handed.

“You don’t think I can take care of myself?” you asked coldly.

He ran a hand over his face. “Of course you can take care of yourself,” he said. “But you’ve been here for two minutes, alright? Sometimes you have to trust my judgement. I’m not a complete idiot. If you fuck around with these guys and go off half-cocked, you’re gonna get yourself killed.”

You opened your mouth to protest, to say you’d done the job without getting hurt. You knew that was beside the point; you’d gotten lucky with these guys - you could have just as easily gotten shot for your trouble, and both you and Javi knew that.

He cut you off before you could say anything. 

“You answer to me,” he said. “Are we clear? I don’t care what kind of wild ideas you have in your head about catching fuckin’ Escobar all by yourself. If I say to steer clear of a bunch of narcos, you do what I say. Not whatever bullshit you come up with. Got it?”

God, you could have screamed.

“Yes,” you managed. You started to leave, but that wasn’t enough for him. He took your arm in a grip gentle enough not to hurt but firm enough to show you how deadly serious he was.

“Yes what?” he asked.

You felt your face heat again. “Yes sir.”

You could have sworn you felt a fucking switch flip. The air in the office was suddenly hot and constrictive; you met his eyes and felt like you were on fire.

He was so close to you, so close you could feel his warmth and smell his cologne. You could see where his pulse beat furiously under his jaw; his eyes were dark as they met yours.

He gave a hum of agreement. “That’s better.”

You couldn't think of anything to say; you were completely consumed with him, the way his hair fell across his brow, the way the top two buttons of his shirt were undone, the way his skin looked so sunkissed and warm.

For the second time that night, you went off half-cocked; you pressed your mouth to his and hoped against hope it wouldn’t cost you your job.

His response was immediate - he opened his mouth against yours and took your tongue, one hand still holding your arm and the other moving to hold your waist securely against him. You carded your free hand through his hair, whining a little; god, but he could kiss. Your breath came in sharp gasps as he hooked your leg over his thigh,  drawing your heat closer against him.

“You want this?” he asked, breathless.

“Yes,” you said. “Yes, sir. Please.”

He sighed against your mouth. “Fuck. Alright.” He ran his fingers over the seam in your jeans. “What do you want?”

You could barely think straight; something you’d imagined countless times came to mind, and you decided to try your luck.

“Can I ride your thigh?” you asked, needy. “Please, sir.”

He groaned. “Yeah, pretty girl. Whatever you want.”

He stumbled backwards, one hand out to make sure you didn’t crash into anything; he found his desk chair and took a seat, looking up at you like you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

“Come on, baby girl,” he said, patting his thigh. “Right here.”

You did as he said, straddling his thigh, feeling a rush of heat before you’d even moved. You put your hands on his shoulders and let him kiss you, deep and hungry.

You started to move against his thigh; his hands roamed all over you, desperate, needy. You rocked your hips, pressing yourself against his thick, muscled thigh. Your breath started to catch in your chest; he put his hands on your hips and pressed you down against him, each movement of your hips dragging over his thigh. 

“Javi,” you breathed. You gripped his shoulders and pressed yourself against him. 

“Tell me how it feels, sweetheart,” he said, kissing your neck.

“God - oh, fuck, feels so good,” you managed. “Oh, Javi - ”

“Such a good girl for me,” he said. “Getting yourself off on my thigh - what a good girl.”

“‘M close,” you whined. You were almost embarrassed with how quickly you’d come to the edge.

“That’s alright, baby,” he said. His big hands moved over your breasts. “Come on, honey. Take what you want from me.”

Your eyes fluttered open long enough to see his face, all flushed pink; he bit his lip when you moaned, his head leaning back like he was getting off on your whines.

“Oh, Javi, I’m gonna cum,” you said, desperate and a little panicked. Though you’d gotten yourself off thinking about him before, you’d never gotten off with him, much less while riding his thigh. Maybe this was crazy. Maybe this wasn’t - 

“Good girl,” he said, almost like a sigh. “Fucking gorgeous, getting yourself off on my thigh.” 

Your nerves faded and you wrapped your arms around his neck, moving your hips sharply against his thigh; when he kissed you, it was surprisingly tender. He kept his mouth against yours as you reached your high.

“Javi,” you said desperately. “Fuck, fuck - oh, god - ”

He held you against him as you rode out your orgasm on his thigh, moans tumbling from both of you. He sucked right below your jaw, murmuring words of praise.

“Thank you, thank you,” you babbled, leaning against him as you came down from your high. You could feel how hard he was through his impossibly tight jeans; you palmed him and kissed at his neck, sloppy and sweet.

He couldn’t help a choked laugh. “You’re welcome, baby,” he said. “Anytime. But really, you did most of the work.”

He lifted you off his lap, ignoring your slight protest; he stood you up and fumbled with the button on your jeans.

“Let me taste you, baby,” he said. He knelt in front of you, looking up at you from under his long, dark lashes; you would never have guessed he could look this needy. You couldn’t do much but nod your head.

As he started to pull your jeans down, you had a sudden moment of clarity. “Javi, wait, wait.”

He stilled, looking up at you for direction. “What’s wrong?”

You fumbled with the words. “I didn’t - you haven’t - ” You swallowed. “Let me get you off.”

He chuckled, a wry grin spreading over his face. “Patience, baby girl. You’ll get your turn.”

God, your mouth practically watered at the thought. He quickly put any other thought out of your mind as he helped you shimmy out of your jeans, his ease and control only making you more flushed. He made quick work of your underwear, pausing only a moment to comment on how wet they were.

“Hmm, someone enjoyed themselves, I see,” he teased.

You blushed. “Shut up.”

He grinned up at you. “Make me.”

He didn’t wait for a response before he nosed at your heat, gently bringing your leg over his shoulder. You grabbed the corner of his desk, your whole body like a live wire with desire and overstimulation. You’d only just come down from your last orgasm, you couldn't possibly - 

“Jesus Christ,” you gasped, tangling the fingers of your free hand in his curls as he went straight to business, eating you out like you were his last meal. The sounds he was making - god, they were downright sinful. You didn’t think you’d ever enjoyed a man going down on you with such pleasure or such skill.

“You taste so good, querida,” he rasped, catching his breath. “Fucking delicious, baby girl.”

You tugged a little on his hair, incoherent whines falling from your lips as he sucked on your clit. “Javi, fuck, oh, god, please - ”

“Gonna cum, beautiful?” he asked. “Gonna cum on my tongue?”

A sound came from your throat that almost sounded like a sob. “Yes, please, just - ”

You didn’t know what you were asking for, but evidently he did; within seconds, his tongue dipping into you and his nose nudging at your clit, you came so hard it made your legs shake.

“Javi, Javi, Javi,” you pleaded, like a prayer. He sucked your clit through your orgasm; when you finally came down, he grinned up at you and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said with feeling. “You sound so gorgeous when you cum, baby.”

You steadied yourself on his shoulder as he stood, shaking with residual waves of pleasure. He kissed you, salty with your own taste, pulling your hips against his.

“I wanna suck you off,” you said, almost begging. “Please, Javi.”

He groaned against your mouth. “If you want to, honey.”

You put your hands on his shoulders and pushed him down until he sat back in his desk chair, knees spread for you. You knelt in front of him like he had just done for you; your hands were shaking a little too much to easily undo his belt, and he did it for you. You pulled his cock out of his boxers and gave him a few quick strokes. 

“Fuck,” he bit out. You waited before you did any more; you wanted to be told what to do, but you were mortified to admit it. 

“What is it, baby girl?” he asked. You looked up at him, your hand wrapped around his cock, begging him to understand. 

He gave a quiet hum, seeming to realize what you wanted. He put his hand to your throat, just firm enough to let you feel the pressure of his fingertips. He met your eyes, looking for permission; you put your hand on his wrist and held his gaze.

“You like this, sweetheart?” he asked, giving you every chance to say no.

You looked up at him from under your lashes. “Yes, sir,” you said, incredibly coy for someone who still felt the pressure and heat of his tongue between your legs.

He studied your face. “You like to be controlled, huh, baby girl? Wanna be told what to do?”

You ran your hands up his thighs, just enough to tease, pushing him a little; he tightened his grip, just enough to make you still.

“Don’t be naughty,” he warned. He leaned forward and kissed you. “Tell me what you want, sweetheart.”

“Javi,” you managed. “Wanna suck your cock, sir.”

“I don’t know, dollface. Only good girls get what they want. You disobeyed me earlier, didn’t you?”

You couldn’t help the whimper that escaped you. Now you were getting down to it. You’d disobeyed him and, like it said on your DEA profile, Agent Peña was in charge of any disciplinary action that needed to be taken in your case.

“But you’ve been such a good girl,” he mused. His thumb ran under your jaw, caressing the place he’s put a love mark earlier. “You won’t disobey again, will you, baby?”

“No,” you breathed.

His grip tightened. “No what?”

“No sir,” you whined.

“Good girl,” he praised. He moved his hand from your neck to your hair, brushing it back with intentional tenderness. You took that as your permission and moved your hand up and down his cock, drinking in the sounds he made as you pleasured him.

“Oh, fuck,” he breathed. A string of Spanish curses fell from his mouth, somehow melodic; you took him as deeply as you could manage, swallowing around him, running your tongue up the underside of his cock. He tasted so good, and his breathy moans were like music; you put your hands on his thighs as he tangled his fingers in your hair.

“So good, baby, god - ” His voice pitched up sweetly. “You’re so good. Fuck.” He only just managed to keep himself from fucking his hips against your face, trembling under your hands.

“Wait, baby, hold on,” he gasped. You came off of him with a pop and looked up at him, waiting for direction; he swiped his thumb over your bottom lip.

“Don’t wanna come yet, sweetheart,” he said, his chest pumping. Sweat shone on his chest where his button-down was undone. “And if I let you go any more, I’d be done for.”

“Yes sir,” you said breathlessly, your voice hoarse.

“Fuck,” he breathed. “Good girl.” He stood and brought you up with him.

“I want you,” you said petulantly, your hands roaming everywhere. “Please, Javi.”

“Hold on, honey.” He took both your wrists in one hand. “You’re gonna do as I say?”

You kissed him hungrily. “Yes. Please. I want to do what you say.”

He kissed you and bit your bottom lip. “Bend over my desk, baby girl.”

You did as he said, pushing files aside to brace yourself against his desk; you felt him draw close to you, giving himself a few strokes before he drew his cock between your legs.

“Easy, baby,” he soothed, putting one hand on your hip, holding you steady; his other hand gently brushed over your ass. “Can you be patient for me?”

You pushed back against his hips. “Yes, sir. I want you.”

“I know, honey,” he said. He reached around to circle your clit with slow, deliberate movements, making you give a breathy little moan.

“You sound so pretty when you’re needy,” he praised.

“Please,” you said. You were confident he knew what you meant.

He leaned down to kiss the back of your neck. “Since you asked so sweetly.”

He pushed into you quickly, all the way to the hilt; you gasped as he filled you, warm and tight and almost too much.

“Alright, baby?” he asked gently. You knew he was being sincere, and he gave you a moment to settle. You took a deep breath and moved against him, desire and pleasure washing through you with even that small movement.

“Please, Javi,” you whined.

He started to move his hips against you, each stroke deep and intentional. His hips snapped against yours at a steady and delicious pace, filling you, dragging across the spot that made you moan and whimper.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Javi said, his voice tight and heavy with desire. “You’re so beautiful, baby. Can’t believe I get to be with you like this.”

“Javi,” you keened. His fingers circled your clit, bringing you to the edge as your pleasure grew. “You’re so good, Javi, oh - fuck - ”

You tightened around him as you tried not to cum, wanting to finish with him. His grip on your hip tightened.

“‘M close, sweetheart,” he said.

“Fuck, me too,” you gasped. “Oh, please - ”

“Cum with me, baby,” he managed. “Come on my cock, sweetheart.”

He pushed into you and pressed deeply against your clit; your orgasm washed over you with blinding pleasure, and you called out his name like a prayer. As you tightened around him, he came too, groaning like you’d torn his heart out of his chest.

“Christ,” he breathed, leaning his head against your back. He kissed your neck and stood you up as he pulled out of you, steadying you as your legs shook with ebbing waves of pleasure.

“That was incredible, sweetheart,” he said breathlessly. He turned you around to face him, holding you close, leaning his forehead against yours.

“Thank you, Javi,” you said.

He gave a quiet laugh. “Anytime, querida.”

You wanted to kiss him again, but feared it might be too intimate; he pressed his mouth to yours and kissed you tenderly, slowly.

“Don’t disobey me again,” he said, though his warning was gentle and you knew it came from a place of worry and care for you.

You shook your head. “No, sir.”

You could feel his smile against your mouth. “Good girl. Such a good girl for me.”

tag list: @tv-saved-the-teenage-girl​​, @punkgeekchic​​ ♡

let me know if you want to be added to my pedro pascal character taglist!

[illfoandillfie]

Impersonal

As promised, here’s the smutty followup to yesterday’s blurb! This is the fifth post of seven in my Platonically themed event. Again, it’s not really been edited because it’s late and I’m very tired but alas, thats how it goes. 

Words: 2,278

Warning: some vague dom/sub dynamic stuff with a more dom Ben, spanking, it’s P in V sex but theres a lot of talk about butts. Also they’re still dorks. 

It had been a nice day. You and Ben had gone out with a few friends, just a little picnic in the park to catch up with everyone. If you’d been at all worried about publicly being together on a no romo day, then it was for nothing. As much as everyone there considered you and Ben to be an item, it mostly went ignored, aside from a couple of questions about how you’d gone living together so far. But having such a big lunch, everyone having brought something to share, neither of you were especially hungry at dinner time. Ben whipped up a pot of butted noodles for you to pick at as you watched TV but it was soon set aside as you shifted to lean against the arm rest with your legs stretched out to lay over Ben’s thighs. Each of you were engrossed in your phones more than the quiz show he’d flicked on, occasionally sharing something you saw or read.  

You had opened tumblr and were scrolling through your dash, pausing to read longer bits here and there but mostly just liking images and reblogging memes. Until you hit a patch of not safe for work content. One of the porn blogs you’d long since forgotten you’d followed had hit a rare patch of activity, every second post one of theirs. Those posts you paid a little more attention to, especially when videos and explicit images were involved since you knew they were likely to be taken down soon and you didn’t want to miss out on seeing something hot. Unfortunately your headphones were in another room so you weren’t game to turn the sound on for any of the videos but the visuals and erotic comments below were enough to make you feel as if the room as heated up. You could feel yourself getting wetter at each new post but couldn’t seem to stop looking at them.  

A particularly good video of a sloppy blowjob made you clench your thighs together, your foot rubbing against Ben’s thigh as a result. His palm came to rest on the top of your foot, rubbing it soothingly, though his attention was still elsewhere. In fact, his gaze didn’t shift until a little later when you were looking at a very hot gifset of a woman on all fours, crying as she was pounded from behind. He cleared his throat. You jolted a little at the sound and tried not to look too guilty as you met his eye.   “You okay?” “Mmhmm,” His eyes travelled over you from the lip between your teeth to your tightly pressed thighs and your fingers wrapped firmly around the phone.   “I don’t mean to interrupt,” he said, clearly meaning to do exactly that, “but ummmm, are you watching porn right now?” “No,” you answered too quickly. “Hey, you don’t have to hide it if you are, go nuts. I’m just a little curious about what’s turned you on so much you’re practically panting. And can I help?” “I’m not watching anything. It’s just some gifs I saw.” “Well I think QPR law states you have to show me or you’d be a big meanie.” You chuckled and handed the phone to Ben, a little curious about how he’d react.   Ben watched the gifs through a couple of times before nodding, “Yeah, that’s uhhh, that’s pretty hot,” he rubbed your foot again as he kept watching the looped footage. “Are you turned on?” “Yeah, a bit,” “Hmmm, same.” “Should we-” “Do you wanna-” You spoke at the same time and then both laughed a little as you simultaneously agreed, “Yeah.” Immediately you swung your legs around intending to walk towards the bedroom and Ben followed for about two steps before he stopped suddenly, “Wait. This is a no romo day, right? Do you still feel anti-romance?” “Yes and yeah I think so. Why?” Ben shrugged, “I don’t think we’ve ever had sex on a no romo day so...how does it work?” “Oh, good point. Well.” you wanted to keep it brief, already worked up and wanting to move to the fun part, “I think it’s probably best if we keep it on kind of the rougher side, a little impersonal even. Could you maybe hit it from behind? I’m not really sure eye contact and all that stuff would be as fun for me right now.” “No need to ask twice. My hot partner wants me to look at her gorgeous arse while I fuck her? Yeah definitely into that.” “Jesus I’d forgotten you’re an arse man.” It was true too. As much as Ben might prefer ass to tits he also enjoyed the visual stimulation of watching you – seeing the pleasure on your face, watching your body react to his. So, while doggy style was a regular position for you, variations of missionary and cowgirl were probably a little more frequent. Which was wonderful, except not what you needed right then. Ben responded by poking his tongue out you but he seemed quite as eager to move things along, “So rough doggy then? Can I spank you?” “You’d be into that?” He shrugged, “I know we haven’t really done anything kinky yet but yeah, I enjoy spanking. I mean...watching an arse jiggle after it’s hit is incredibly hot.” You giggled, “spanking is very okay then. You could be a little mean too if you wanted, maybe calling me a degrading name to get at that impersonal thing. Slut maybe.” He hummed uncertainly, “I can try it if you really want but I gotta admit I’m not as into degrading stuff as I am spanking.” “It’s fine if you don’t, whatever works. Honestly, I’m already super horny so just do whatever you’re comfortable with and don’t get too gentle or loving with it, and I’ll be happy.” “I can definitely do rough for you. For instance,” You gasped as Ben grasped your hips and turned you around, positioning you in front of the arm of the couch before he pushed you to bend over it. It was a surprise considering Ben’s typical nature. He had his controlling or domineering moments but generally seemed happiest when he was showering you in affection or letting you take charge. Adding to the surprise was the way he tugged your pants down to your knees and began to touch you through your underwear. It made you squirm, trying to find a little more friction, but he only gave you a quick spank. Not overly hard but it didn’t have to be to make you feel tingly. Just knowing Ben was capable of an action like that was hot enough. All the same he pulled your knickers down too and ran his fingers through your folds.   “Wow, okay. You meant it when you said you were horny. Pretty wet already.” “No shit Sherlock. You know I don’t need lines like that that get you interested in fucking me.” He gave you another slap for your insolence.   “Better get you stretched out then, hadn’t we?” You felt two of Ben’s fingers rest against your entrance and expected to feel them sink into you too. But it didn’t happen.   “What’s the hold up, Tiger? Ow,” the spank had been a little harder than the last.   “If you want them so bad, do it yourself.” Your breath caught as you realised what he meant and you shifted your hips back, levering yourself against the arm of the couch, until you felt his fingers penetrate you.   “That’s it Kitten. You’re too horny to wait, aren’t you? God you’ve got such a pretty arse. Giving me the best view right now. Your needy cunt soaking my fingers while your arse,” he hit you again, “jiggles. It’s making me so hard.” You whined, unable to find a better response, and rocked back against his fingers, slowly fucking yourself on them.   He let you go on like that for a little while, happy to listen to your hitched breaths and needy sighs as you got a little of what you needed. But then he pulled his fingers from you. You let out a disappointed whimper, “Ben, c’mon,” “I’m so hard from watching you be so desperate. Just gotta get my pants off. But you can play with yourself for me, can’t you?” You nodded and shifted so you could drop your fingers to your pussy. Ben gave your arse another slap, “Not what I meant Kitten. Play with your arse.” Startled by the low growl in his voice you quickly complied, leaning on the couch as your brought both hands up to grab your arse cheeks, squeezing them and pulling them apart to better show off your holes.” “That’s very good, Kitten. Spank yourself.” It wasn’t the same as when Ben spanked you since you knew what was coming and the position didn’t allow you to get as much force into your hits as he could. But it was definitely arousing and it definitely seemed to work for Ben. You’d barely registered the sound of his pants dropping before he was sliding into your wet and waiting cunt.   “I can take it from here,” Ben’s hands replaced yours, groping your arse as you dropped your arms back to the couch, though you felt it was useless to try and prop yourself up on them. It would only be a matter of time before you collapsed entirely.  

At first he kept the pace slower, letting you adjust to him, though each thrust was forceful, just as you’d asked it to be. But gradually Ben sped up, hands still playing with your cheeks, sometimes grabbing and sometimes spanking them. He tried to say more about how hot it was to take you like that but his own breath was escaping him as the words seemed to be. So he let his body talk for him as he pounded your cunt and dug his fingers into your flesh.   And then he pulled out.   You were on the verge of asking him who the fuck he thought he was when he said, “one second. Just want to try something.” and then, remembering he was meant to be acting mean, added, “And you just want me to keep fucking you, so you’re not going to complain.” In a disgruntled daze you let Ben help you up onto the back of the couch so that one leg was bent to lean against the arm he’d just had you bent over and the other dangled towards the floor. It took a little more adjustment before Ben was happy. First pulling you back towards him and the corner of the couch, and then pressing you to lean forward so your hips were raised and he could better access your pussy. You had to grab onto the back of the couch for support, digging your fingertips into the leather as Ben resumed fucking you.   The angle had changed a little and the position was slightly more awkward to maintain but it was worth it for the way your clit rubbed against the smooth leather, leaving a trail of wetness behind. Each thrust rocked your hips in such a way that you quickly found yourself getting close to release.

That, however, seemed to be Ben’s plan as he began telling you how good you were going to make him feel when he made you cum. “I know you’re close Kitten. So just cum. I want to feel your cunt on me when you do.” He lay another few spanks to your arse cheeks and that tipped you over into your orgasm.   But Ben didn’t stop.   “I th-think you can do bett-er than that,” he grit out as you clenched around him and he seemed to thrust twice as hard as he had before, “You were so,”   You grunted as he plowed into you. “So desperate before. So you can cum better than that. Right kitten?” You nodded and gasped out a, “Yes” as your arms shook with how hard Ben was fucking you.   But he didn’t relent. He kept going until he felt you tighten again and heard you moan, nearly sobbing as relief flooded your system.   That seemed to be enough for Ben and he let himself go too, holding your hip tightly as he pressed deep into you.  

Ben leaned his forehead against your back as he tried to regain his regular breathing rate and gave you a quick kiss there before he righted himself and helped you to dismount the couch. The evidence of your orgasms was still smeared across the leather but neither of you paid it any attention.   “Sorry I never called you a slut or anything,” Ben said with a slightly self-conscious chuckle, avoiding your eye as he hitched his pants back into place. “I just like Kitten better.” “Don’t be,” you said mirroring his actions to looking at him, “Kitten worked perfectly. Also, that was really good. Maybe you could be rough and mean more often?” “The double orgasm was a pretty good indication that it worked for you,” “Of shut up, I was being serious. It was really hot.” “Yes but I like teasing you, remember,” “Prick.” “That hurts,” he said with a fake gasp and a hand against his chest, “Keep talking like that and I’ll have to spank you again,” “Ha ha, very funny. Tease me all you want but we both you enjoyed it as much as I did.” “Maybe I did.” he conceded, “but I wasn’t going to hate it when I was watching your arse.” “Alright, you perv. Was there any leftover noodles? Bit peckish now.” “Yeah, in the fridge. Grab me some too would you?”

[frogtanii]

Beautiful Boy ✨

sub!suga x fem!reader

< warnings. MATURE (smut babey), gentle femdom, blowj0b, cunnilingus, vague usage of bondage, excessive usage of “baby”, little splash of overstimulation, uhhh

< an. holy shit this took forever AND it‘s the first time i’ve written smut in YEARS so any feedback is v v much appreciated~ hope this is decent lmaoo 🥺 much thanks to my bby @animeanxiety for helping me figure out who tf this fic was even about <3

okayyy smut below the cut :3

“b-baby, please t-touch me...”

the pleas of your boyfriend reach your flushed ears sending a pang of heat to your core. you turn towards him with a smirk, eyes trailing down to his hands bound in silk ribbon, sharp jawline, muscular chest and finally stopping on his hard, weeping cock, the head flushed in the most beautiful red you’d ever seen.

you can’t help the soft sigh that escapes your lips at the sight. how’d you ever get so lucky? you were blessed with the kindest boyfriend you’d ever had, always willing to go the extra mile for you. just today, he was sure to buy you your favorite food when you were feeling upset about something you can’t even remember anymore, his soft whimpers and groans enveloping your mind, putting you in a lust-filled haze.

“b-baby, i- it hurts...” you’re torn out of your thoughts at the sound of your boyfriend’s whiny voice, your eyes meeting his tear-rimmed ones. you let your eyes drop once again to his crotch, his hips bucking his dripping cock up once he feels the heat of your gaze. his lips part again to whine for your attention but you stop him with a soft smack to his thigh.

“i know it hurts baby. would you like me to touch you?” your words dripping with thinly veiled condescension and the promise of pleasure have a loud, heady moan leaving your boyfriend’s plush lips, a few tears leaking from his eyes and his head bobbing up and down furiously. you can’t help the smile that spreads across your face at his eagerness. “good boy.”

his head tilts towards you when he hears his favorite petname, his eyes begging for your touch; he knows he won’t get any release if he speaks as you denied him his words earlier. you reach out a hand to caress his cheek, brushing away a stray tear with a grin, feeling proud that you were able to reduce your strong boyfriend to such a whimpering mess.

your hands trail down his sweaty torso, fingernails catching on his hard nipples. he lets out a breathy gasp of your name and you smirk, your hands continuing their descent down his body. finally, they reach their destination; the base of his cock. you take a moment to look up at his beautiful eyes, shimmering with tears and you can’t help but release a sigh of admiration.

“oh suga. you’re so beautiful like this,” he whimpers again as you bring your hand back up, pushing a finger into his mouth which he accepts eagerly. “all tied up and perfect just for me... such a good boy...” suga releases your finger, glistening with saliva, and goes to open his mouth before remembering your rules. you just smile and tap his mouth, giving him the indication that he can speak.

“p-please baby, touch me, i-i’ve been so good for you, i-i’ll be your good boy, just t-touch me, please~” his words come out like a broken faucet, high pitched and needy while your own arousal goes unnoticed. all you do is nod and suga lets out a moan of relief as you begin to kiss down his chest, making your way back to his solid member steadily streaming precum.

suga’s breaths begin to shorten as you get closer and closer to where he wants- no needs you to be. you stop shortly just to look at his dick and fuck- does he have a pretty dick. not as pretty as his face when his eyes are streaming tears, his cheeks flushed red, and his voice straining as he begs for you to just fuck him, please, but few things are.

another gasp removes you from your thoughts and makes you focus at the task at hand. haha, hand. you can’t help but snicker a little causing another whine to escape from suga. you slap his thigh again and give him a glare. he immediately shuts up, your heart fluttering at the sight of his easy submission to you. with a sigh, you look back down at his pretty cock, longer than it is thick but satisfying nonetheless, the thick vein on the underside pulsing while thick spurts of precum stream from the bright red, nearly purple tip.

you decide you’re nearly done teasing suga, your own arousal finally getting the better of you and although you adore this look on him, panting and crying for you (god, that never fails to get you going), you and suga are at the ends of your proverbial rope.

his cock twitches at the feeling of your breath over his sensitive head and you can hear the sound of his hands pulling against his restraints, desperate to touch you. you smile before you place a gentle kiss to his slit and his hips cant up towards your mouth, a throaty groan ripping from his chest. you place an arm on his hips to keep him from choking you on his cock (not that that isn’t an enjoyable experience for you both).

you lap up the precum bubbling from his slit just to hear him gasp and whine for you to stop teasing him before you give him a long lick from his shaft to the tip, suckling on the head then taking him down into your warm, wet mouth. the sound that comes from his throat is gorgeous and you can’t help your thighs from clenching together. you pull off of him, ignoring his pleas, to spit into your hand, the filthy sound sending a shudder up suga’s spine.

you take your now wet hand and grip the base of his cock, pumping him at a steady pace and watching his face contort at the pleasure he’s receiving. his moans increase in volume when you finally, finally, give him what he’s been begging for the whole time. your mouth engulfs his cock completely, tears springing to your eyes as his tip hits the back of your throat.

“oh fuckkkk baby, i-it, you feel so fucking good,” suga’s voice breaks off into a whimper as you pick up your pace, sucking him off with a vigor that you didn’t even know you contained. you knew it would only be a short while before he came as you had been edging him for at least an hour beforehand.

suddenly, you feel as desperate as suga to get him to come, his face absolutely beautiful when he reaches his high. you bob up and down on his cock, your spit slick hand stroking the parts of his shaft you can’t reach. suga’s legs begin to shake next to your head and that’s when you know he’s so close (and he voices such).

you pull yourself off his dick to breathe, your hand never losing its pace stroking him. suga’s moans are now increasing in volume and you can’t help but think that your neighbors must hate you but when his abs start to clench and his thighs start twitch, you suck him back down to the hilt and swallow around him, your hands dropping down to play with his balls. that mixed with the sensation of you gagging on his tip sends him over the edge, thick spurts of cum shooting down your throat and one long moan of “fuckkkkkk,” leaving his lips.

you pull off, swallowing the salty, bitter liquid while steadily stroking your boyfriend through his intense orgasm. after a moment longer, he shakes his head, a line of drool creeping down his chin. “too much baby? you did so good for me, my good precious boy...” you let off his softening cock before reaching up and untying his hands, pulling him into your arms, his legs still twitching from the aftermath of his orgasm.

“b-baby, you didn’t cum...” suga’s voice sounds pitiful as he snuggles his face in your chest. you can’t help but smile at his thoughtfulness but his words bring back to mind the pressing matter of your own arousal between your legs. you just brush his hair back and place a soft kiss to his sweaty forehead.

“it’s okay sweetheart, i know you’ll help me out later.” you wink at him but all he does is shake his head vehemently before lifting himself up on shaky arms and pushing you down into the soft pillows on your shared bed. you look up at him with a questioning look in your eyes and he shakes his head again, hooking his long (pretty, my god were they pretty) fingers into your waistband, pulling your shorts and panties down your legs.

“wanna make you feel good, jus’ like you made me feel good...” you feel your cheeks heating up at his unknowingly considerate words and you let your head drop back down into the pillows. after he’s successfully removed your bottoms, he settles in between your thighs, lifting them up and over his shoulders before looking up at you with the fucked out look that you gave him. “c’n i make you feel good baby? can i? please lemme make you feel good...”

suga’s words have you clenching around nothing which you know he can see, a low groan leaving his lips. his eyes meet yours yet again and you nod, giving him the go-ahead to eat you out. his eyes slip closed and a pleased smile curls on his lips. he leans forwards, his nose gently brushing your clit as he takes a deep breath, smelling your essence. you moan, a hand moving down to entangle itself in suga’s grey locks, gently tugging his face towards your awaiting pussy.

you can feel him smirk against your lower lips and despite him literally being centimeters away from your sex, you still gasp in surprise when he licks you from entrance to clit in one go. your hand pulls his hair harder and he whimpers against your clit, his tongue circling the sensitive bud before sucking it into his mouth, your hips bucking wildly against his face.

unlike what you did to him, he allows your hips to bury his face in your pussy, his tongue trailing from your clit to breach your slick entrance, the muscle thrusting in and out of you swiftly. one of suga’s hands move up your thigh to slip two long fingers into your tight hole, easily finding the spongy part on your upper walls, stroking it quickly to make you cry out his name. your eyes roll back in your head when his mouth sucks at your clit, his fingers pistoning in and out of you at a pace you knew too well he was capable of.

the feeling of pressure in your core was building up fast, your hips meeting his fingers at every thrust. “o-oh fuck, baby boy, i’m coming, i’m coming, i’m-“ with a loud moan, you come apart all over suga’s slender fingers which continue to stroke you through your mind-blowing orgasm. your vision definitely whited out for a moment and when you come to, you see suga sitting up between your thighs, sucking your release off of his fingers. your eyes roll back at the sight, your head dropping back to rest on the pillows.

suga moves up to rest beside you, his strong arms pulling you into his chest. “thank you baby,” you murmur, placing a kiss over his heartbeat. he places a hand on your chin, lifting your face up to look at him where you can clearly see the love and adoration reflected in his eyes. you can’t help but turn away from his intense gaze, wiggling out of his arms to go clean yourselves up.

“no baby, stay,” suga whines and pulls you back into his warm embrace, his hands stroking your back, quickly soothing you into sleep. once he’s sure you’re out, he leans down and places a gentle kiss on your lips. “i love you so much...” with that, his lids get heavy and he falls asleep as well, limbs and hearts entangled together.

[drlauralwalsh]

You and Your Grieving Parts

Do you ever think about your...parts?  No, not those parts, you mischievous little spark plug!  I mean inside your mind - the parts that get weird ideas, warn against danger, are mean to you, and tell you to engage in late-night food rituals.  That last part might just be me.  Seriously though, I’ve been doing some research into the parts of my mind. The idea that our minds have “parts” is not a new idea. Like right now, a part of me wants to keep writing to you and another part just wants to nap. Oh the drama inside! There is one theory that explains this and it has intrigued me since grad school: Internal Family Systems.

INTERNAL FAMILY SYSTEMS (IFS) THEORY

The IFS theory believes that the mind is made up of a number of sub-personalities or parts, each with their own set of beliefs, opinions, and responses, and that interact with each other.  At the core is the Self, which has the ability to lead the parts but isn’t always up to the task.  No single part is bad but like an orchestra, the parts can be in harmony or honk cacophonously like a flock of agitated geese.

Along with the core Self, IFS sorts the other parts into categories by function: Managers, Firefighters, and Exiles.  Managers and Firefighters protect you from feeling the pain of the Exile parts.  They have the same goals but use different strategies.  Managers constrict and hold you back while Firefighters automatically react and let it rip.

MANAGERS

Manager parts proactively run the day to day operations of the system and are considered the most “acceptable” parts because they say very adult things and sound most like the core Self.  They maintain balance within you through control.  Managers parts are perfectionist, judgmental, self critical or people pleasing.  They want to prevent humiliation and abandonment by keeping you busy, criticizing what you do, worrying, sabotaging connections, and generally being a control freak.  They strongly believe in self sufficiency and are generally relentless, exacting, chastising and sometimes, anxious and depressed.  They’re really good at giving you a false sense of security by telling you it’s doing it so you’ll look good to others.  A typical Manager thought is, “You really should stop bothering people with your sob story.”

FIREFIGHTERS

Firefighters are your first responders.  They automatically fly out the door to rescue you when something hits too close to home.  They extinguish the fire of pain by smothering or creating a diversion.  They attack “enemies” and get defensive in an effort to control or suffocate emotions.  These are the parts that have anger issues, spending too much money, drink too much or use drugs, get obsessive or suicidal, self harm, or dissociate.  They like to eat too much. binge watch TV and endlessly play video games for hours.  They don’t give a crap about the goody-goody manager parts.  Those weenies don’t know what it’s like to charge heroically into danger.  Firefighters are really good at distracting you from upsetting, painful or overwhelming feelings.  A typical Firefighter part thinks it’s better to rage than to show vulnerability - even in the privacy of your own head.

EXILES

As a psychologist, I get to see other people’s Exile parts more than the average person.  I’ve developed such a knack for it that the Managers and Firefighters appear almost transparent.  When I’m interacting with someone who’s leading with one of those parts, I can see through to the Exile it’s protecting.  Just wish I could more reliably turn that super power on myself!  Exiles are the younger parts that hold pain from the past.  You compartmentalize and isolate them from the rest of the system for their safety and stability in the system.  Because of their vulnerability, they also seem kind of dangerous.  They’re the parts of you that are scared of being abandoned, get intimidated, experienced trauma, and feel a lot of shame.  This is where the Big Four live - not good enough, too much, if you really knew me, and everyone leaves.

Exiles are desperate to tell their story but Managers pessimistically believe your pain is a burden to others. Firefighters flat out refuse to put you in danger of being hurt again.  If a sad, little kid part of you revealed a disgusting longing for an authority figure’s approval during a job interview, a Firefighter part might change the subject while a Manager sabotages the rest of the meeting.  Neo-exiles are the parts we hide within close relationships.  Imagine a romantic partner or friend that gives you attention when you’re doing something nice but ignores your bids for reassurance.  You’ll shut down the needy part of you to maintain the relationship. The message from that person you tell yourself is that only your good parts are acceptable.  

THE CORE SELF

So far, we’ve been describing the orchestra - or if you’d prefer, the various departments of your business or the governmental branches of your personal nation.  Let’s switch to the head of it all - the conductor, the CEO, the President, YOU.  In the center of all of this is your core Self.  It’s a beautiful place to be.  It doesn’t need work because it’s already perfect.  It spontaneously emerges when the air is clear and all is safe.  It is the natural essence of who you are and is sheltered from damage or destruction by function of your parts.  

You know you’re in your grounded center when you feel authentically chill.  Some theories describe the Self by the 8 C’s:

Confident

Courageous

Creative

Clarity

Compassion

Calm

Curious

Connected

I know I’m in that place when nothing said or done can move me off my square.  For instance, I am confident about my intelligence.  If some bozo tried to lecture me about how I’m really a dummy, I might get a little irritated but he’s not going to shake my confidence.  Now if the same bozo flicked some booger comment about something more vulnerable, that might temporarily knock me off-center.  Note: my own managers and firefighters have censored me from revealing said vulnerability for my own protection.

WORST CASE SCENARIO

Your personal configuration and manifestation of parts was constructed to deal with your worst case scenario to date.  Since we have different histories and experiences, each set of parts is like a fingerprint of the individual.  While I’m currently working hard to lead with my core Self, recent events (i.e. the death of my wife) have thrown the system into a reorg process.  All previous worst case scenarios were blown out of the water and my mind’s company is frantically looking for new hires in two main departments.  I thought I’d give you a peek into the frenetic remodeling of my inner Self as the parts run around with their pants on fire.

Exile: [Can’t speak and just cries endlessly into the void.]

Firefighter: “Oh shit!  Their wedding song started playing overhead at the grocery store!”

Manager: “It’s fine.  Everything is fine. Close your ears, stop being a baby and don’t think about it.”

Exile: “But I can’t stop thinking!” [Stops responding as snot clogs up nose.]

Firefighter: “Leave the store!  Leave your groceries where you are!”

Exile: [Blows nose, hides in deserted health food aisle.]

Manager: “Someone could have seen you out there.  Now go check out and remember to smile at the clerk.”

Firefighter: “I think it’s a great time to call it a day and watch more episodes of Designing Women.”

These parts are obviously clueless as to what to do with this newly emerged and devastatingly sad grief Exile.  She’s a little girl part of me that either pitifully weeps or gets hulk-smash rageful.  She isn’t a new part; she’s come out of semi-retirement to hold my overwhelming grief.  She believes that everyone will leave her and she’s left on her own to figure everything out.   She thinks things like, “Why don’t people notice how sad I am???” She doesn’t know a Firefighter distracts her from feeling with a stupid magic trick while a Manager runs around pulling the curtains around her so no one sees.  All the parts are trying to help but the animals are loose at the circus.  Though the Exile doesn’t know it, she’s waiting for my core Self to step in and corral the monkeys.  My Self knows what to do if I can only find and access it.  Stepping from the shadows, my centered Self brings a soothing presence that stops the commotion and quiets the protectors.  Here’s an example:

Manager: “You should shower and do a little cleaning.  This place is a mess!”

Firefighter: “Honestly, I think eating a little cookie butter will make things better.”

Exile: “[Sobbing] Things are never going to get better!  I don’t want them to get better!”

Firefighter: “I know!  Let’s listen to Rage Against the Machine really loud in the kitchen!”

Manager: “Fine, don’t shower even though you stink.  Don’t change clothes either.  It’s not like anyone sees you anyway.”

Firefighter: “Uhhh, isn’t that friend coming over tonight?”

Manager: “Oh yeah!  He’ll certainly notice those dishes that have been in the sink for 3 days.  Just sayin’...”

Exile: “Oh no!  [Hangs head in shame] People will find out how horribly disgusting I am because I haven’t run the dishwasher or broken down and recycled the Amazon boxes.”

Firefighter: “Just throw everything in the backyard!!!”

Manager: “Stack up all the piles neatly so it looks like you wanted them there on purpose.”

SELF: “Alright, let’s think about this.  What if you broke down the boxes right now, put them outside, rinse the dishes, and filled the dishwasher all while listening to Rage Against the Machine?”

Manager: “That’s not enough but okay, fine.”

Firefighter: “Great ideas as always.  I’m going to rest up for the next emergency.”

Exile: “Thank you for listening to me.  I feel a little better and I think we can do this.”

SELF: “Great. Afterwards, everyone can take a break and zone out in front of the TV.  Now put on that music and let’s get to work.”

WHO’S IN CHARGE?

As long as there’s no one in charge, your mind is a confusing and chaotic miasma of competing needs.  Ideally, the Self steps up and takes over negotiation between the parts and directs the next steps.  However, sometimes a part fills in the leadership role.  You know you’re leading with a Manager when you feel buttoned up, intellectually sharp and emotionally numbed out.  Leading with a Firefighter part feels like a continual state of irritability and agitation and keeps you ‘at the ready’ to react to danger.  Exiles are rarely in charge because they’re really bad at it.  They collapse the system and insist on activities like staying in bed all day.

WORKING WITH YOUR SYSTEM

As with most life problems, the first step is awareness. You’ve got to get to know your parts - their personalities, beliefs, and functions - before trying to intervene in their conflicts. Like I said before, there are no bad parts - just competing beliefs and strategies. A given part feels strongly that it’s right, sees it how it really is and knows the truth. Every thought or feeling originating from a part is trying to help you out, even if it doesn’t seem that way. The part of me that says no one wants to be around me is actually trying to protect me from rejection and abandonment. Unchallenged, that part will keep me from connecting to supportive people.

OBSERVING AND IDENTIFYING PARTS

It may be difficult to put your finger on and capture a particular part.  When you’re ready, there’s a few ways to access them.  Start by being curious and non-judgmental.  Think of your centered self as just a researcher interested in data collection.  Reassure yourself that nothing has to change as you’re presently in observation mode.  

Take your emotional temperature by asking yourself how you feel right now.  Ask to see what emotions are already present and how or where your body feels with that emotion.  Observe those messages that are on repeat in your mind.  Alternatively, you can access an upsetting memory from the past and examine it.  Ask yourself, what exactly was upsetting about what happened?  Did you feel afraid, sad, anxious, angry or something else?  How did you react and what did you do?  Did you rage, freeze, numb, avoid, or try to smooth it over?  These questions will reveal clues to what was exiled and what managers and/or firefighters protected you.  If at any time your brain says, “I don’t know,” consider that another protector part and explore accordingly.

STAYING CENTERED

Once you’ve got a handful of observations, pick out one voice and interview it.  More than likely, you’ll be talking to a protector - probably a manager.  Getting it talking by asking what it believes and it’s job in the system.  Ask how old it is and what it looks like.  A voice that says. “This isn’t fair,” may believe you get dumped on more than most and thinks the job is to  protest on your behalf.  It may show up as a finger wagging old man who suggests that something must be wrong with you because this keeps happening.  What’s protective about this voice?  What kind of Exile is it defending?  Be gentle with digging down to the Exiled little kid part underneath.  Kids are delicate and need protecting.  If you find yourself continuing to have strong emotions or becoming reactive, you’ve likely run into another manager or firefighter.  Interview and explore this part before moving deeper.  We can’t access, validate and utilize the burdened exiles without honoring how the system set itself up to protect us.

Once you’re working with a particular part, another angle is to check back in with your calm and centered Self.  What do you understand about the part?  What do you think is going on?  Can you find empathy and appreciation for the part?  Even our nastiest parts work really hard on our behalf.  A critical voice is mean but its heart is in the right place.  An obsessive or addictive part is trying to soothe the system in the best and only ways it knows so far.

TRUSTING RELATIONSHIPS

Getting to know your parts is the process of creating trusting relationships between them and the Self.  This is the next step in the process of converting your protectors and split-off exiles into your allies.  Think about how trust is built with other people: consistent interactions, listening to and honoring what’s said, believing their words are important - even when you don’t understand.  That’s exactly how we build rapport with the different parts of ourselves.  It may be scary or unpleasant to get close to your inner critic or the tightly-wound explosive rage but it’s a vital step.  Like a good CEO or President, once your core Self begins to get everyone on board, it’s easier to know what to do when life throws you the next curveball.

I’ve got a story for you from back when my wife was still alive.  I left to go grocery shopping but stopped in at the craft store to shop for just myself.   This nagging little voice kept popping up but I successfully shoved it back down at the craft store.   Entering the grocery store a short time later, I could no longer ignore a little girl voice on repeat: “She’s going to be mad at you!” Sighing, I got centered and engaged it.  Here’s how the conversation went:

Little Girl: “She’s going to be mad at you!”

SELF: “Okay, well, we can handle that.  Why will she be mad at me?”

Little Girl: “Because you took too much time at the craft store.”

SELF: “Why is that a big deal to you?  What are you feeling?”

Little Girl: “I’m worried she’ll be mad and call you selfish because you took time for yourself.”

SELF: “Okay, well if that happens, I’ll take care of it.  You don’t have to explain it to her.  I don’t think she’ll actually be mad but if she is, I’ll be in charge.  How does that sound?”

Little Girl: “I’m still worried but I’ll try it your way.”

SELF: “Great. Thank you for trusting me. No matter what, it will be okay.”

This is the actual transcription of me engaging with a worried part.  For the record, it’s not grounded in current reality.  Naturally, Patty would be concerned if I hadn’t returned from shopping if it had been a few hours but she wouldn’t be mad.  I already had a relationship with this part - the Little Girl.  She’s about 5 or 6 and feels too small and powerless to change things in the world.  She’s used to being  dismissed and pulls at my sleeve to warn me about all the monsters lurking in the shadows.  She’s protected by another part - my rebellious teenager.  If I’m not gentle with the Little Girl, the Rebel leaps to her defense and commandeer the entire system.  The Rebel says things like, “Oh no, you fucking didn’t just do that!  I’ll show you!” and promptly turns off all inhibition and motivation and steers us back to the craft store to buy $100 worth of crap.  I’ve learned my lesson - listen to and trust the Little Girl, or else it’ll cost me.

YOUR PARTS IN GRIEF

I’m still getting to know and lead the parts of me as they grieve.  As with outside life, my internal life was thrown into disarray after Patty died.  I had all the parts nicely organized, productive, and had good working relationships with all.  Death took my puny little shoebox diorama on the inside of my mind and… shook it up really hard.   I was so proud of my hand painted little figurines, all precisely glued in their rightful places.  A manager most assuredly came up with that idea.  Now, there’s a part of me that just wants to toss the whole thing and another part that’s picking up each piece, crying over its brokenness.  

All I can do is be patient with myself for now as I sort through the pieces in the shoebox.  I tried throwing it out but it just reappeared.  I’m working on getting the lay of the land.  I’m doing my best to accept and soothe the broken parts - even as they overreact, judge me for not keeping things cleaner, numb out with cookie butter, and cry at the grocery store.  We are trudging down the road right now but when I get to know everyone again, I’ll call a meeting and figure out what’s next.

[hongism]

Would you rather San eat you out backstage at a show while it's happening live or have MINGI fuck you on the couch at the dorm while everyone is asleep? 👀

pairing: san x reader

genre: idol!verse, smut, fluff

rating: Mature

summary: keeping quiet has always been a difficult concept with choi san as your boyfriend

word count: 1093

warnings: dom/sub themes, exhibitionism, oral sex: fem receiving, public sex, risk of getting caught, sir kink, degradation 

a/n: this one’s for yOU miss beannie @beankeeper37 i know you will love it woot woot uhhh also this is the first time i’ve written about getting eaten out sooooo let me know if it’s any good

“You did great out there, baby.” San all but throws his body at you as he comes off stage, arms quickly wrapping around your waist and tugging you close to him. You return the return by throwing your arms around his neck. “I’m so proud of you,” you whisper against his neck. Pulling back, you grab hold of his cheeks and stare into his dark brown eyes. He’s a bit sweaty and his chest is still heaving from the performance he just did, but you still love him, sweat and all.

“Thank you, love. It was easier knowing that you were right here to support me.” You press your forehead against his. “I was thinking about you during the performance. Could you tell?” Laughing under your breath, you drag your hand from his cheek to the collar of his shirt.

“I could, baby. Including those glances you kept sending my way while you were dancing.”

San smiles down at you with an innocent expression yet there is sin in his eyes. His fingers trail down your side, curling under your shirt and tracing your bare skin.

“I was thinking about certain things while performing. What can I say?”

“What were you thinking of?” You ask, voice dropping to a whisper. San presses up against you and pushes you back, ignoring the possibility of being seen. Your back hits the wall, darkness shrouds you, and all you can see is the gleam of San’s eyes and teeth as he stares at you.

It doesn’t last long though. Next thing you know he’s getting on his knees before you, hands toying at the button of your shorts.

“My face between those beautiful legs, eating you out like a starved man. Is that would you’d like, kitten?” San doesn’t wait for your answer, he already knows what you’ll say, and his fingers work your zipper down.

“Y-Yes sir,” you whine under your breath, eyes still peeled for any possible witnesses. His hands pull your shorts down and take your underwear with it, the red lace barely visible through the darkness, and yet you know it looks gorgeous wrapped around San’s lithe fingers.

“Good girl. Not even gonna be a brat because you’re so needy for my tongue.” San presses his hands against the inside of your thighs, pushing them apart easily. He dips his head towards you. Teeth latch around the inside of your thigh, immediately throwing you into a haze of pleasure, and the sensation of his lips against the sensitive skin brings heat to your core in an instant. San keeps his hand on your thigh. His index and middle fingers brush your folds, and you gasp at the touch. He slips the first finger in as he works his lips up the inside of your thigh.

“G-God, San, o-oh my–” You gasp when he hurriedly pushes the next finger in. San pulls his lips off you and chuckles against your skin.

“I don’t think that’s my name, is it? Come on, kitten, you know what to call me.” San leans forward. He presses a chaste kiss against the front of your folds.

“Sir. It’s s-sir.”

“Good girl.” San brings his lips to your core now as a reward for your obedience. He flattens his tongue against your lips, the tip of his tongue prodding its way through to your hole where his fingers are stilled curled in you. He pumps them slowly in and out of you. A disgustingly loud squelch accompanies the thrusts. It rumbles in your ears, the threat of being caught increases as the sounds get louder and louder, and yet you feel wetness flood your core.

“S-San, sir, sir please. We could–we could be ca-caught.” San hums against your folds, and the vibrations sends jolts through your body.

“I think you quite like the idea of that, princess.” He drags the flat of his tongue against you, brushing your sensitive engorged bud barely, and you’re writhing under his touch. San wraps his lips around your clit ever so gently. He sucks at it, pushing his face further into your heat. You’re certain that your sopping juices are all over his face by now. Surely, you’re ruining his makeup but at least he doesn’t need it anymore. He fucks his fingers into at a faster pace now, switching between scissoring them and curling them against your treasured g spot.

You gasp in surprise and bring your hand down to San’s shoulder, the other finding his hair and combing through his locks. His lips move to the junction where his fingers and fucking into you. San uses his tongue to suck your juices out of you, lapping up every drop as it comes out of you. You’re certain that his face is ruined with your arousal, but that’s exactly the way San likes it.

Having the thick strands of your arousal dripping from his mouth, the way his fingers fit so well inside you (almost as well as his cock actually), and how he makes you completely fall into the sweetest subspace possible.

“You taste so delicious. Such a perfect treat, your sweet juices.” San returns his tongue to your clit and immediately moans against you. “You’re throbbing with need. Are you such a needy slut that you like this so much? My dirty little whore, all mine. Falls apart for sir and only sir. Do you want to cum, kitten? Cover my face in your sweet juices?”

You cry out as he flicks the tip of his tongue against your bud, your orgasm so close you can taste it. San doesn’t hold back. He keeps his pace and continues to worship your warmth.

“Cum, kitten, I’m waiting,” San mutters against you. With his permission, you fall apart under his touch. Shudders past through your whole body, your orgasm hitting like a bright light. San keeps thrusting his fingers through your high until he’s satisfied. “Good girl, good girl,” he praises. “Come down, baby, come back to me.” Your chest heaves as you come down from your high, San guiding you back to reality.

San helps you pull your underwear and shorts up, zipping and buttoning them while laying kisses against your lips. You taste yourself on him but still kiss him hungrily.

“Well, looks like we found a new kink to explore, no?” You laugh at San’s cheeky words, pressing one more kiss to his lips before moving away from the wall. “I could get used to doing that every time I finish performance.”

“I’m sure you could, love.”

[bigdickmadej]

Can I have uhhh,,, drabble with heavy dirty talk and light sub/dom dynamic? Please??

Sorry it took so long! Here we go!

“All you want is to be filled, uh?”

Ryan didn’t answer, he kept his face on the pillow as Shane pounded into him hard enough to make the bed’s frame hit the wall with every thrust. He was drooling into the motel’s pillow, eyes closed with that blissed out of his mind expression Shane had grown to love.

He smirked, putting a hand over Ryan’s head to keep him there, ass lifted high enough for Shane to fuck just in the right angle, legs parted, firm for his boyfriend was the strongest man he had ever known. It was wonderfully obscene.

“You act all high and mighty, almost rude.” He kept saying, knowing Ryan was still listening to him, knowing how much he loved it. “You want everyone to know you are in control, freak that you are with how perfect you want your little funny show to be.”

Shane hit Ryan’s prostate, and the man twitched at his mercy, moaning loud and needy, asking for more in the way he opened his eyes and looked back as much as he could with Shane’s hand still on his head.

“It dries you off-- fuck!” He groaned, Ryan had clenched around him and Shane’s cock had felt that glorious pressure and warmth of his insides, always welcoming him. “All you want is to be fuck-- fuck, fuck-- to be fucked!”

They moaned together, Shane removed his hand to bring it to Ryan’s waist, holding him there with both hands as his hips went faster. He needed to come. He had been holding it for far too long, allowing Ryan the relief two times before Shane finally gave up and decided to fuck him.

Ryan needed this from time to time, for Shane to stop treating him like the precious gift he is in his life, to treat him harsh and fuck him senseless, give up his control and trust him with his body. And Shane was more than honored to have been chosen to fulfill those desires and needs, he’d do anything for this man.

“Such a pretty hole you are.” Shane caressed his back, couldn’t help but smile when he saw the shiver going through Ryan’s body. “My warm hole, mine to use and fuck, and fill.”

For a second, Shane could swear he had nodded. He smirked, slowing down to let Ryan feel himself filled like he loved, moving his hips in gentle circles once he was deep inside the man.

“Feel so good…” Shane murmured, closing his eyes as he threw his head back. “Fuck, angel, you bring me to heaven each time…”

“Shane…” He heard, Ryan’s voice sounding weak and tiny, used after moaning and begging so loud. If tomorrow the crew was to give them shit, he couldn’t care at the moment and Shane doubted Ryan would either. “Please, please…”

“Yeah, you want me?” Shane swallowed, passing a hand through his hair to keep it out his face. He was in need of a haircut (“No!”, Ryan had yelled when he suggested it earlier that day), just like Ryan was in need of coming. “You want my cock?” He bottomed out, then went in harder than before, hitting his spot perfectly. “Mmm? It’s that what you want? You want to be used and filled? To be fucked so hard you won’t be able to walk normal tomorrow?”

“Yes!”

Shane smiled, trying his best not to laugh. He held Ryan’s hips, making him lay flat on the bed with his legs spread wide, knees on the bed with his shins up. He thrusted in, Ryan lifted his head as he moaned happily.

“It's why you are always annoying me?” He went out, “So I will fuck you angry and desperate, like an animal?” He went in, searching for Ryan’s prostate again.

“Yes…”

“You want me to make you come with my cock, uh?” Shane licked his lips, thrusting in and out slowly but rhythmically again. “Shit, Ryan. I can’t wait to get home. I’m going to tie you to the bed and use you all day long.”

“God, yes!” The man moaned, making Shane smile before he angled himself better inside him.

“Yeah, I think… I’ll fuck you until you’re filled with my come.” Shane said, moaning when he felt Ryan clenching around him again. He pressed a hand on his lower back, seeing his fingers marked on his waist. It made him smile. “And then I will use that pretty little cock of yours, fuck myself with my living dildo.”

“Shane!”

He laughed, thrusting in again and making him moan as before. “There?” He hit again, Ryan moaned louder as he shivered. “There, baby? Do you like that?”

“Yes!” 

Shane smiled, licking between his lips before he put both hands on the mattress, holding most of his weight there to brace himself.

“You’ve been so good tonight, angel. You deserve to come.”

“Sir…”

“Are you gonna make me come, angel?”

Ryan only nodded, looking back. Shane smiled at him and leaned forward, kissing him as good as he could from their awkward positions. His lips were chapped, used by him and chewed on by Ryan as he tried to keep quiet at the beginning. But it was always impossible with them like this, needy and desperate for each other to come together.

“Fuck…” He swallowed, starting to thrust into him until he found a rhythm, going faster each time until Shane was pounding into Ryan as the man filled the room with sighs and moans, begging for more.

His back looked like a painting, filled with birthmarks that seemed like stars as they were covered in moonlight and the yellow of the streetlights, sweat perling his tanned skin, red and purple marks were Shane had been earlier that night.

Shane groaned, holding Ryan’s hips again as he made him kneel on the bed, back against his chest. He kissed his jawline and neck, fucking him deeper until Ryan had catched up with his rythm. They moved together, Shane’s hands exploring Ryan’s chest, playing with his nipples and leaving red marks on his pecks. His lips claimed his, then his neck, his mouth again and soon they were moaning against each other’s mouths.

“Fuck, baby, I’m--”

“Yeah, yes, yes…” Ryan chanted, hips becoming more erratic. “Sir, fuck me!”

“Yes, yes, all my angel wants…” 

He kept moaning against Ryan’s cheek, fucking him deeper until he felt his orgasm come in a soft wake that slowly became bigger, expanding to all corners of Shane’s body as he heard Ryan yell for his own release.

Shane could hear his name, Ryan being grateful and pleased as he collapsed on the bed with him on his back, both breathing fast and heavy, eyes closed and bodies light, sweaty, together.

God, he loved this man. He loved their job together. He could never get tired of this.

“Ry?”

“Not in this world…” He murmured, Shane smiled and lifted himself, the cold suddenly such a bother. His nipples were hard, he could see goosebumps on Ryan’s shoulders and arms as the man rested his head over them with his eyes still closed. “Thank you, sir.”

Shane smiled, kissing the tip of his nose, making Ryan open his eyes and blink a couple of times before looking up at him. 

“Any time, Ry. My angel gets all he wants.”