#please submit more women i love women

[just-some-guy-joust]

does anybody wanna see the current stats of the genders of the characters submitted im really autistic tonight and i wanna make several pie charts

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Hedy Lamarr (Samson and Delilah, Ziegfeld Girl)—Look. I'm sure someone has already submitted Hedy Lamarr because she was spectacularly beautiful, and a very strong lady too: she fled both an abusive marriage AND nazi persecution at a very young age and rebuilt a life for herself pursuing her love for acting all on her own!! Her career as an actress was stellar; while she began acting outside of Hollywood (her very first movie, Ecstasy, won a prize at the Venice Film Festival), she conquered American hearts very quickly with her first movie in the US, Algiers, and then just kept getting better and better. If all this isn't enough, she was also an inventor: her invention of the frequency-hopping spread spectrum radio transmission technique forms the base of bluetooth and has a lot of applications in all kinds of communication technologies. I think that deserves a prize, don't you?

Marilyn Monroe (How to Marry a Millionaire, Gentlemen Prefer Blondes, Some Like It Hot)— Ngl I thought you all were lying about sexual attraction until I saw Marilyn Monroe in Gentlemen Prefer Blondes

This is round 6 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Hedy Lamarr:

The only person you can find both on the Hollywood Walk of Fame and in the Inventor's Hall of Fame--her radio-frequency-hopping technology forms the basis for cordless phones, wi-fi, and a dozen other aspects of modern life. She was also passionate in her efforts to aid the Allies in WWII (unsurprising for a Jewish-Austrian Emigree to America), and her name served as the backbone for one of the best running jokes in what is possibly Mel Brooks' best movie. Look, Louis B. Mayer apparently believed he could plausibly promote her as "The world's most beautiful woman". Is an entire website full of people going to be less audacious than one Louis B. Mayer? I didn't think so!

Described as "Hedy has the most incredible personal sophistication. She knows the peculiarly European art of being womanly; she knows what men want in a beautiful woman, what attracts them, and she forces herself to be these things. She has magnetism with warmth, something that neither Dietrich nor Garbo has managed to achieve" by Howard Sharpe, she managed to escape her controlling husband (and Nazi Germany) by a) Disguising as her maid and fleeing to Paris or b) Convincing the husband to let her wear all of her jewelry to a dinner, only to disappear afterwards. Also she was particularly clever and helped develop Frequency-Hopping Spread Spectrum (I can't really explain it but anyway...)

Her depiction of Delilah and Samson and Delilah just lives rent free in my head. The woman was gorgeous.

One of the most beautiful women ever in film, spoken by many critics and fans. Beautiful shapely figure, deeper seductive voice, and often played femme fatale roles. She was also brilliant and an inventor. Mainly self-taught, she invested her spare time, including on set between takes, in designing and drafting inventions, which included an improved traffic stoplight and a tablet that would dissolve in water to create a flavored carbonated drink, and much more.

Gorgeous and brilliant pioneer of modern technology and the middle part.

Marilyn Monroe:

She's amazing!!! A classic bombshell, as well as a strong women who overcame so many obstacles. She also advocated for others, like Ella Fitzgerald.

That fucking saxophone that cuts in whenever she appears on screen in Some Like it Hot

I mean, it's Marilyn Monroe. She's adorable. She's gorgeous. She funny. She's the total package

She's the original American sex symbol, an iconic beautiful woman with eyes you could get lost in, legs for days, gorgeous hair, and a cute tummy. Her voice! Just listen to her voice!!!!!

She is considered one of THE sex symbols of the 1960s and one of the greatest actresses of all time! She HAS to be on this list!

no vintage movie woman is more iconically hot

People are most familiar with pictures of her in the white dress or the Happy Birthday Mr President one, but imo she is at her most beautiful and looks most comfortable when she is photographed by women like Eve Arnold

It’s Marilyn Monroe. If Aphrodite was an actual person, she’d be Marilyn. Do I really need to say more?

What can I say that hasn't been said? Marilyn's legacy is so much bigger than she was in life. She's a defining symbol of 50s and 60s Hollywood sex and it's obvious why. She was absolutely stunning and the camera loved her.

[purplesuitcowboy]

this is so long, my god but i love a sexy maid moment.

tw: rape (under negotiated kink and consent with coercion)

This job had not been Brittney's first choice. She'd been working at the restaurant one night when a man far to wealthy to be eating at an establishment as shitty as the place she worked had gotten her attention and slipped her his card. He'd told her that if she was ever interested in expanding her work opportunities and entering into a lucrative new field, she should give the number a call. At the time, she'd brushed off his proposition, thinking him a creep, but she never threw out his card. Of course, she'd gotten fired a week later for tardiness and after weeks of fruitless job hunting, she had re-evaluated his offer. Maybe, it wouldn't be that bad? He was pretty posh so she didn't imagine they have her doing hard labor outside or anything.

She checked her bank account and the minuscule balance helped her steel her nerves. She didn't have enough money to pay her rent this month. The leasing agency had been lenient with her thus far but she knew that eventually their patience with her late or missing or incomplete payments would wear out and she'd be out on the street. She'd called and found out that the number was for an agency that matched attractive young women with wealthy clients who needed extra assistance performing common household tasks. She'd asked the agent for more information but hadn't been able to get more out of them then vague statements about client confidentially.

She'd agreed and gone through the strangest application process she'd ever experienced. She'd never been asked to submit her measurements to a job before. She thought that maybe they just had specific uniform standards but she never received anything. The only pro about the whole thing, other then the pay check, was that it didn't take them long to match her with a client. She was sent an address, date, and time to arrive, and was told not to be late under any circumstances unless she wanted to be terminated immediately. This seemed like a lot for a job cleaning houses but she wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

That's how she'd managed to find herself in the swankiest building she'd ever been in on an elevator headed to the penthouse. The doors opened to a small hallway that lead to an ornate door with a gold door knocker in the shape of a lion. She knocked once and stood there in front of the door. Just how rich were these fucking people? She heard a series of locks being released and then the door opened, revealing a older man with salt and pepper hair, and strong jaw. He was obviously in great shape for his age, and she struggled to find the right place to look at him so she wasn't just shamelessly ogling her employer. He had a stern look about him and Brittney was happy that she wasn't late. She did not want to what he looked like when he was angry.

"Oh, uh. Hello, sir. I'm-", she started speaking quickly, trying to introduce herself but he cut her off.

"I know exactly who you are Brittney. Please come inside," he turned on his heel and briskly walked into the spacious apartment, not bothering to check and see if she was following behind him.

She squeaked in surprise and followed quickly behind him. The door immediately shut behind her and she heard a series of clicks as all of the locks fell back into place. It was the nicest apartment Brittney had ever seen. Everything was clean and white with the kind of modern minimalist furniture that only rich people liked. The best thing about the apartment was the windows. It had the best view of the city, that seemed to sprawl out like an ocean beneath them.

"We have much to discuss so why don't you get changed into your uniform and then we'll talk."

"Oh, I don't have a uniform. I thought the company was going to provide something but nothing ever came," she told him apologetically.

"I'd certainly hope not. We have a uniform for you here. It's in the other room there. It's based on your measurements so provided you did not lie, it should fit just fine."

Brittney looked at him baffled. She waited for him to provide more of an explanation but he did not so she walked into room to get changed. It was guest bedroom with an attached bathroom. Laid out on the bed was what looked like a slutty maid costume which was odd. She wandered around the room, looking for her uniform. Upon finding nothing, she poked her head out of the bedroom door.

"Excuse me, sir. I don't see my uniform," she told him.

"It should be on the bed," he told her, which would mean that the skimpy maid costume was her uniform.

"Oh, I'm sorry I can't wear that."

He looked at her for a moment with an expression on his face that seemed to communicate that he thought was was very stupid.

"Tell me, Brittney. Did you happen to read the contract before you signed it?"

Her face redden. She had looked at it but not very carefully. It just looked like a normal contract to her so she'd signed it without much thought.

"I see," he replied, voice cold." In the future, I would suggest you read contacts before you sign them and certainly before you show up at a clients house for a job. If you'd read it, you'd understand that employed in this capacity I own you - all of you. If you wish not to continue, please tell me now so I can send you on your way and we can stop wasting my time."

Her eyes widened as the reality of what she'd signed up for dawned on her. She'd figured that the job was weird but she didn't realize that it was going to be this. He was giving her an opportunity to leave and she should take it but she knew that if she did she could kiss her check good-bye.

"My apologies, sir. Please forgive me. I'll get changed right away."

She ducked back into the bedroom, closing the door gently behind her. She changed out of her clothes and into the skimpy costume. She'd original thought that it was one piece but it was actually three. It also came with a matching choker, tights, and high heels, as well as a little metal thing shaped like a tear drop with a heart shaped jewel on the end but Brittney couldn't figure what that was suppose to be for.

The top was something like a triangle bikini top with a matching shrug that only covered her shoulders. The triangles of the bikini top covered her nipples, which had come to points in the cool air and were visible under the thin fabric of the top, but little else. The skirt, which had a white apron sewed onto it, was equally immodest. It hugged her hips well but barely covered her shaved pussy. She'd looked around for underwear but found none. Brittney tried to pull her tiny skirt down to cover a bit more of her ass but it was in vain. She hoped that he wasn't going to have her picking anything up because she'd be completely exposed. With the addition of the accessories and shoes, she was (barely) dressed in her uniform. She walked back into the main room of the apartment where her client was waiting for her, holding the small metal object in her hand.

"I'm dressed, sir," she told. "I'm sorry. I don't know what to do with this though."

He walked around her in a circle, looking over her body appreciatively.

"It fits you well," he told her, taking the item from her hand. "Don't worry. I'll help you. Now, I am going to tell you about this job and you are going to listen. Today is going to be unlike your other days here. Consider it an introduction to the job."

He slide the item in his pocket and with his hand free, he grabbed Brittney by the waist and pulled her towards him. She stumbled forward, landing with her hands on his broad chest. He cupped her ass with his big hands, squeezing and kneading the soft flesh. Brittney gasped, at the sensation of his hands on her. This was bad. He was her boss, he shouldn't be touching her like this and she shouldn't be enjoying it. Despite her reluctance, she said nothing, afraid of pissing him off and losing her job.

"As I previously mentioned, while you work in this capacity, I own you and I mean this very literally," he told her, as he turned her so that her ass was pressed tightly against his thick cock. He ran his hands up and down her lithe body, groping her full tits and upper thighs.

"You are going to do what I tell you to do, when I tell you to do it, and who I tell you to do it with," he continued. With one hand, he freed her tits from the confines of her tiny top, teasing her sensitive nipples with his fingers, and the other, he sneaks between her legs to rub at her little pussy. He runs two thick fingers against her slit, coating them in her juices, and then plunging two of them inside of her. Brittney moans in response, hips bucking to take in more of his thick fingers.

"You will not talk back, and you will not make me repeat myself. Do I make myself clear?" When she doesn't respond quickly enough, he pulls his fingers out of her cunt and roughly spanks her pussy, earning a yelp of surprise from Brittney.

"Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes," she replied, but she quickly learned that this was not the response that he was looking for as he delivered another series of slaps to her pussy.

"Not quite, try again," he told her, his hand hovering over her wet cunt ready to deliver another series of slaps if she fucked up.

"Yes, sir."

"Good, girl," he tells her and she shudder's at the praise. "Now, I am a firm master but I am not unfair. It is expected that you will make mistakes but you will be guided and corrected as needed."

He slips his fingers back into her waiting cunt, scissoring them to stretch out her hole and then adding a third finger, pumping them in and out roughly. While he fucked her with his fingers, he used his thumb to rub her tender clit until her legs began to tremble. He lets her get close to the edge but denies her, over and over again. To Brittney, it feels like her pleasure stretches into eternity. She has no conception of how long they have been standing here in his living room with his devilish fingers playing with her pussy. Letting go of her tit, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out the object from before.

"This, my dear, is a butt plug and it is apart of your uniform. I expect you wear it whenever you are working in this capacity. I'm sure this seems daunting now but I'm sure you'll grow to love it."

He pulls his fingers out of her cunt and pushes the plug inside, coating it in her juices. Brittney whimpers at the sensation but offers up no resistance. Slowly, he fucks her with the plug until she's close to cumming but slips it out before she can. He carefully pushes the plug against the tight ring of her anus and watches with satisfaction as it stretches around the toy. Brittney groans as her ass is slowly stretched and filled by the unfamiliar object. With the body of the plug snugly in her ass, the only thing that can be seen is the twinkling heart shaped jewel between her ass cheeks.

"That's a good girl. I think, you've earned an orgasm."

With her ass filled by the plug, his thick fingers in her pussy and against her clit felt even more intense. She came with a scream, as her legs buckled and she sagged against her employer's broad chest. She'd never cum that hard before. She felt like she'd been shot into space.

"Now that you've cum, I think it's time that you show your appreciation, huh?" he told her, as he pushed her to her knees and pulled out his hard cock.

[bunnys-kisses]

hello! i stumbled upon your blog and i must admit i LOVE the bakery theme. can i get a berry trifle and coffee with oscar piastri please? thank you so much!!!

bakery menu

want to submit your own order! check the original post for all the information & prompts! as for this prompt, i am loving that people are into the whole rivals idea. i love writing rivals for f1, it's like the soap opera aspect of f1. it's very funny.

berry trifle ('wrong, try again') + coffee (rivals) served to you by oscar piastri (formula one!)

cw: smut/pwp, (failed) rivals au, driver!reader, driver!oscar, a dash of breeding kink, unprotected sex, references to masturbation, cowgirl position,

okay, oscar didn't hate you. despite what the press had been alluding to after hungary, oscar didn't hate you. in fact, he had respect for you, you were breaking barriers for women in the field.

but by god, did you light a fire in him.

when he first met you, you were in the semi-baggy driver's clothes. the fabric didn't give you much shape. so oscar just thought you were the cute new driver.

that was until you attended an event for ferrari with leclerc, the dress-code did not include the driver's suit. that was when oscar got a good look at your figure. there was a strength to your form that could clearly be seen by the lack of full sleeves on the dress you wore.

oscar didn't know he was attending the gun show!

but that only made his carnal craving for you grow deeper.

"she's turning a lot of heads." charles remarked before he took a sip of his drink, "i told her that if she really worked on it, she could get some hefty sponsors."

"or a date." lando remarked as the three men watched you talk your way through the room. eventually lando said, "i'd smash." before he downed his drink and got up to get another one.

charles looked to oscar and asked, "what are your thoughts on her, piastri?" he was genuinely curious, oscar was quiet about you.

oscar sighed and made a face, "i want to crush her on the track." he turned to the other man and shrugged, "i don't care if she's a woman, i'm here to win."

-

you beat him in belgium. you also beat norris, leclerc, and verstappen. you held that trophy over your head while the national anthem of your home country played. oscar swore that he saw tears in your eyes.

there was a buzz about you over the course of the summer break. oscar took it as an opportunity to invite you to england. all driver's ran in the same circles and oscar was just extending an offer for you to get out of monaco for a week!

"i promise, it does get sunny... sometimes." he said to you over the phone. he didn't admit but when he heard you beautiful voice on the other end of the line, his hand was already around his cock.

he was in anticipation for your visit and was more than happy to pick you up from the airport. you threw yourself at him and laughed.

"you were right, it is hot!" you were wearing a light sweatshirt, "i honestly thought you were fuckin' with me. you must be cold, mister australia!"

he scratched the back of his neck, and his eyes went wide when you hastily took off the sweatshirt, exposing more of your body to him. he didn't know that ferrari made such tight tank tops.

oscar's plans to really cement you as a rival failed upon impact. he thought this trip was going to be really getting to the core of you and cementing himself as you rival. but, instead you were helping him make breakfast because you 'felt bad' that he was doing 'everything'.

it was two eggs in a pain and couple of sausages.

you lingered around him, he noticed by the second day you smelt like his body wash when you got close enough to him. you were all bright smiles, soft gazes and tight little tops.

oscar ended every night with his cock in his hand, idly masturbating until his legs cramped up. the sick little kink he often let his mind wander about was the breeding kink.

his dream was two seasons with you at mclaren (sorry, lando). you in the bright orange across the paddock. then halfway through the second season, you start feeling unwell. you'd be too stubborn to take a pregnancy test, but with the amount of tests drivers have to take, it wouldn't be long before you were confronted by the fact that oscar got you pregnant! then you start a bright new future as mrs. piastri, and lando can come back (yay, lando!).

that was why his plan to make you his rival failed, because his need to get his cock wet overrode everything else.

it took a week before you two started sleeping together. you could only drink, laugh and play so many video games before you led him back to his bedroom like a siren.

it was met with giggles and bad jokes. hands touching skin and finally the clothes were shed.

oscar liked you on top, as did you. you liked having the control of your movements as your pussy was a vice around his leaky cock. you were on birth control (duh), but the other driver didn't need to know.

he honestly thought he was taking you raw.

"tell me who's going to win it all this year?" you asked as you rolled your hips. his cock was snug in you, you had to admit, the other driver was packing some heat between his legs.

and he wasn't afraid to use it.

oscar rubbed his thumb against your hip and said, "yeah, number eighty-eight for mclaren." he smiled cockily.

"wrong, try again." you said as you laughed and tapped him on the nose, which made him groan. you bent over himself as you rocked your hips and kissed at his face. he looked visibly relaxed.

"oh c'mon!" he laughed as he tried to set the pace himself. but you placed your hands on his chest and anchored yourself. you were not letting him take control.

you leaned in to kiss him again. the air conditioning in the room prevented it from getting too hot. but, oscar could see the slight sheen of sweat on your naked body in the afternoon light.

"you don't think i'll beat you?"

you shook your head and continued to move up and down on his cock. you pushed the hair out of your face, "oh, don't be silly, piastri." you playfully slapped his toned chest, "we all know i'm going to beat you." then flashed your press smile.

words like that made him want to breed you even more. but, he kept those thoughts to himself. he didn't want to risk losing such a sweet pussy in his close proximity.

it'd be hard to win championship when you were carrying the other driver's baby!

you rested up against his chest and rolled your hips. you had taken his cock to the root and it nudged against you with each thrust of your hips. you could feel his balls up against your pussy.

"shit, fuck. you feel so good."

"i bet you say that to all the girls you bring back to this place." you laughed as you really worked at riding him. you panted heavily as you moved against him.

he ran his fingers through your hair, "nah, nah. no girl's as pretty as you." oscar's plan slipped through his fingers, he wanted you more as a wife then a rival.

"well, aren't you sweet, oscar."

the two of you continued to fuck in the afternoon light. the pleasure pumped through your body as you rode him. you knew you weren't going to last long, that was one thing you could admit about oscar.

he was a good fuck.

the bed squeaked a little bit under the both of you. oscar's orgasm hit him hard and he finished inside of you in a huff. his nails dug into your hips as you continued to ride him till you found your completion.

he looked in a bit of a daze as you continued to hump against him. you felt the sweat on your back and oscar's strong chest under your nails, your short nails scratching against the skin.

"shit, oscar." you groaned as you reached your climax.

you were both out of breath. you didn't know what to do after you stopped your movements besides just giving him a firm pat on the chest. you panted, "good. good."

he laughed, "excellent. now c'mere."

you soon laid out on his chest and linked your fingers with his. your legs tangled together as you laid there trying to catch your breath. it was almost intimate.

you kissed at the other's collarbones, "so what do you say, piastri? another round and then we can get some dinner?"

-

that evening you called charles up, you were seated on the balcony of the flat with your legs kicked out on the small table.

"leclerc residence, charles speaking." he yawned on the other end.

you replied, "it's barely eight o'clock. you're getting too old." with a hint of laughter in your voice. in all fairness you were a little tired too.

"glad to see you're alive in england. how's oscar?"

"good, good. our little mission is a success." you beamed on the other end, "oscar will be as docile as your little leo."

charles chuckled on the other end, "if he is, he's going to need more training. i don't get why you didn't start with lando? he was into you too."

"yeah, but oscar's accent got me first." you sighed, "i mean, eventually the two will tear each other apart." you shrugged.

"or tear you apart." charles remarked.

"i'm not too worried there, leclerc. you men are quite funny sometimes. i'll tell you everything when i get back."

your teammate replied, "whatever, just don't come crawling back to me when they both catch on and you've got cum coming out of your ears."

formula one was a man's world, but if you could keep a man like oscar piastri on his knees for you. then maybe you had a chance of winning the championship.

[wandasaura]

LOVE IS A RUTHLESS GAME

summary — it’s been months since natasha’s submitted to her wife, but that’s about to change. you’re lucky enough to watch the entire scene unfold

warning(s) — established relationship, married wandanat, the chaotic duo of lucky and fanny, sub!nat, sub!reader, face slapping, pussy slapping, edging, cockwarming, face sitting, nipple stimulation, degradation, praise, dildo riding, dom/sub dynamics, teasing, begging, delayed orgasm, orgasm control, mentions of exhibitionism, oral, bondage, finger sucking, cum eating, threesome, aftercare, men/minors dni

authors note — we’re not even going to address the fact that this was meant to be an entirely separate fic and that now i have to write a part two because it got too long to add any more. this is literal filth, but there are some cute/goofy moments + mean wanda

♥️⊹ ˚ . 18+, men/minors dni ⁺ 𓈒 ꒰💌꒱ ♡ ･ mommy maximoff ✧

It was bound to be a great day when Natasha got a phone call from Yelena asking if she could watch Fanny and Lucky for a couple of hours; some work conflict having come up on short notice and Kate was already out of town. Those couple of hours had turned into an overnight arrangement rather quickly, but you were just happy that Natasha agreed to keep both dogs for the night and hadn’t sent the excitable pups back through the door they came in at when Yelena dropped the bombshell. 

Wanda was less than pleased to have not one but two dogs running around her perfectly kept house, and had turned her glare on Natasha multiple times because of it. It turns out that Kate and Yelena let the pups run wild, furniture wasn’t off limits and wiping their paws at the door was entirely foreign. You had looked at Wanda in sheer amusement when she’d tried to get the two tail-wagging pups to understand the concept of drying their paws before stepping onto her hardwood floors. They’d merely shook their coats and trotted past her, muddy paw prints adorning the couch seconds later. It was safe to say that Natasha was beyond the point of simply being in trouble with the Sokovian. The Russian had been tiptoeing around for hours, her eyes filled with unbudgeable worry as she scouted each room for Wanda’s presence before even considering entering fully.  

When Natasha appeared again, hair tied up in a bun and blue light glasses slipping down the slope of her nose, that same gleam of hesitance brimmed in her calculated green eyes. You were curled up on the couch, Fanny’s head on one thigh while Lucky’s head rested on the other. Your eyes were staring straight ahead at the television screen, an old movie you hadn’t seen in ages holding your attention, but the dogs had decided that giving Wanda grief since their arrival had officially tired them out. Lucky snored, you found out rather quickly. Fanny was quiet, but your heart ached when she whined every so often and the little paws folded beneath her shaggy belly twitched and jerked like she was trying to run. You didn’t know much about dogs, had never had much interest in having one of your own, but you could appreciate their warm comfort. The Sokovian that was being searched for had gone out back an hour ago, a book in her hands that was already half finished but rather lengthy. As she’d passed you on her way out, careful not to let the dogs out with her, she’d told you she wouldn’t mind an interruption if you wanted to join her, but Natasha had pointedly been left out of that invitation. 

“Where’s your girlfriend?” Natasha asked cautiously, fixing the black framed glasses so they sat on the top of her head, no longer needing them for the work assignments she left behind in her office. There was never any shortage of work to be done, never any space between deadlines and start-ups, but the women found a balance easily, something you admired as more than just their girlfriend. They were never CEO’s first. They were wives, girlfriends, sisters, friends, people. Pursuing a career in computer science has shown you the harsher sides of corporate companies and the intricacies that running a successful business entails. You’d shaken hands with too many sour old men that devoted their lives to the office and were somehow surprised when their wives left them. Wanda and Natasha would never understand how easy they made it look, and how inspiring they are, being successful women in positions of power. 

“My girlfriend, is she?” You quirked a single eyebrow, an expression you had more or less adopted as your own since the start of the summer. Seeing you wear an expression that Wanda practically owned never failed to make Natasha weak in the knees. “Getting a divorce that I don’t know about?” 

“After tonight? We might be.” Although Natasha was merely teasing, playing into the game that you had set up, you frowned at the genuine concern in her simple words. Yelena had put her in between a rock and a hard place, even if it wasn’t entirely intentional. She had definitely left out the part about needing someone to watch the dogs overnight on purpose, but Wanda’s reaction to the news wasn’t her fault. Natasha always checked base with Wanda before she agreed to anything that involved more than just herself, Yelena had no reason to assume anything different of today, but in the chaos of receiving the phone call only minutes before a virtual conference, it had fallen away from Natasha’s mind until the doorbell rang.  

You smiled sympathetically at Natasha, wanting to kiss the creased skin between her eyebrows until it was smooth and soft with ease, but you were effectively nap-trapped by the Golden Retriever and Akita who you didn’t really want waking up anytime soon. They’d finally calmed down, there was silence over the house again, and disturbing the peace felt like initiating a war. “Wanda will get over it.” 

“Wanda hates dogs.” Natasha rolled her eyes like that was the most obvious answer ever, which it was, you knew extremely well how passionate Wanda was about not liking or wanting a dog, but she didn’t hate dogs enough to completely walk away from Natasha. You sighed, deciding that disturbing the nap the two pups were taking on you was less important than resolving the rising issue between your girlfriends. 

Fanny yelped when you shrugged her head off of your thigh, but Lucky remained quiet and merely resettled into the cushions that were warm from where your weight had sat. You grabbed Natasha’s hand without any explanation, not that you needed one, but still she let you guide her through the house without questioning where you were leading her. Her expression grimmed when she spotted Wanda lounged beside the pool, a recently published law book in her hands that was nearly finished as she turned yet another page getting closer to the official end. You didn’t spare the time to admire how fast she read, merely slipped through the sliding glass door and dragged Natasha along with you. 

The door was closed quickly, because although Lucky and Fanny were seemingly content on the couch for the time being, probably missing their Moms as the hours rolled by and the heavy sun became lighter with dusk, you didn’t fancy taking the risk of them wandering outside to find where you’d gone.  

Wanda peered over the edge of her book, sunglasses that were no longer needed now that the unforgiving sunlight had become crisp with wisps of orange, perched on the top of her head in the same fashion as Natasha’s. They were eerily similar, always so in tune with the other even when the tide got choppy. There was no question about how or why they worked so well together, they just did. 

“Please tell your wife that you’re not going to divorce her.” You deadpanned, not even sparing Natasha a glance as you firmly addressed Wanda, who raised both eyebrows in question at your demand. Wanda’s eyes, sparkling beneath the sun, looked between you and Natasha with something unreadable deep beneath them. “She’s being unreasonable. That’s my job.” You pushed further, sensing that Wanda’s silence was around for the long haul if you didn’t make the severity of the situation known. Natasha was uncharacteristically not herself in the moment, and you despised every second of it. 

Wanda sighed, allowing her hands to relinquish the grip she had on her book. It fell onto her thighs that were warm from constant sunlight, the only shadow thrown over her illuminating body. “Natalia, don’t be dense.” She rolled her eyes, accent strong as the day she’d learned how to say her first sentence. The air was thin around the three of you, Natasha’s grip on your hand tight and unnerving. This was not the way Wanda addressed things, for a second you stopped to consider that maybe Natasha had a point to be so concerned, but that fell away when a whimper so soft it sounded like another tale that the wind tried to tell reached your ears. 

Wanda wasn’t annoyed. No, that is absolutely not what was going on. You’d thought she was, had every reason to believe that she was, until a ghost of a smirk splayed across her lips tinted pink from how many strawberries she’d eaten beside the pool. Their dynamic had been only a whispered thing, soft stories and recounts of the nights where Natasha gave herself over to Wanda, but in the almost year that you’d been present in their home and in their lives, you’d never seen it play out. You had no reason to when you were merely around to be a release for Natasha, but now you were their girlfriends, and it dawned on you harsher than the unforgiving sun that it had been months since Natasha relinquished control. This wasn’t about her being paranoid, this was about her wanting to be reprimanded, wanting to let Wanda take over. 

Wanda stood from the lounge chair, bowl of strawberries and her book the only things that said she was ever laid out at all. She was close enough to smell when her feet stopped carrying her forward, and you noted that she must’ve gotten a new perfume because there was something reminiscent of grapefruit lingering around her. You held your breath when Wanda’s palm connected with Natasha’s cheek, the slap sounding harsher than it was. You’d grown familiar with loud echoes after soft slaps, your ass had been discolored by them too many times. There was nothing that could’ve warned you about the harsh treatment, but Natasha didn’t waver behind you. Her knees didn’t fold like yours would have and her shoulders never shook like she feared the next hit. Slapping was a hard limit for you, but Natasha merely sighed at the contact of Wanda’s palm hitting cheek. 

“It’s been a while since I’ve played with you, hasn’t it, kroshechnyy tantsor?” Wanda cooed, a glint of danger breaching her eyes. This was not how she handled you. You’d seen her be harsh, cruel even, but she looked downright mean as the sun glimmered against every inch of available skin that already held a lingering tan. Natasha was allured by the look in her wife’s eyes, and you noticed that she hadn’t yet spoken at your side. 

“Is that what you want? You want me to play with you, milaya? Want our little duckling to know what a slut her Daddy is?” Wanda pressed further, edging Natasha right into a state that was only able to be categorized as submissive. You could hear the stories of their dynamic a million times a day, but nothing would have ever prepared you for the sight of it to be unfolding right in front of you; unfiltered and perfectly easy. “You can speak, milaya. Tell me what you want.” 

“Please, Wanda.” There it was, the first utterance of Natasha’s gravely voice in the minutes that it had been since you dragged her outside. It was light, airy even, softer than a million seeds falling from the pappus of a dandelion. 

“Detka,” Wanda looked toward you, her eyes so much softer than they had been as she peered into Natasha’s soul and dared her to push back. You hummed, inclining your head to the side in an expression that radiated innocence and submission. Even if she wasn’t playing with you, Wanda was still your dominant, you still felt she deserved to be shown respect as she floated nearer and nearer to one of her favorite headspaces. You adored every shade of green that lived within the Sokovian’s eyes, but there was something so captivating about the shade of Juniper that attempted to drown her pupils when she let herself hold all control. “I am not going to be soft with Natalia. You are welcome to join us in the bedroom, but if it gets too much for you, I expect you to leave. Do not stay because you think you’ll be able to handle it.” 

Your brain was a mess of spiraling thoughts, wondering the state that Natasha would be left in when Wanda was through with her, and the extent of which they played at all. There were so many unanswered questions that you hadn’t been at liberty to ask before, but now you had every right to know what turned your girlfriends on, and there was no way you’d be missing out on whatever the scene had to offer. Despite the heavy gears turning in your head that were effectively dampening your panties, you managed to nod your head albeit hesitantly and jerkily. “Okay.” You breathed out, earning a smile from the Sokovian and a tight squeeze of your hand from the Russian. “Are you okay with me watching?” You turned the question on Natasha, assuming that considering Wanda was the one who had extended the invitation she wasn’t opposed to your presence in the room as she unraveled all the tight knots Natasha had been putting into place. 

“Oh honey.” Wanda preened with an edge to her tone that had Natasha whining at your side, “Natalia is quite the fan of having an audience. My little slut thinks it’s quite the turn on to be the main attraction. Isn’t that right, shlyukha?” 

Natasha nodded quickly, her eyes clouded with lust and desperation that wasn’t unusual, but had never been so translucent. You wondered if you looked the same when Wanda had you beneath her thumb, pliant and eager to be ruined, but now was not the time for daydreams about your own submissive nature. 

“Oh.” A whispered response fell off of your tongue as your cheeks became hot with the presence of a blush that was a result of anything but embarrassment. Your stomach tightened at the information, imagining what scenarios had led to that discovery and how intensely they’d played into it. Natasha was not shy. She had no reason to be with her perfectly smooth and silky skin and tits that could win awards if there was ever such a competition to judge. She was breathtaking, you knew it and she knew it, but you’d never expected to hear that she was into exhibition. A sense of pride flooded your system when you could pinpoint the appropriate term on the tip of your tongue, Wanda’s mini lectures paying off. 

“Mmm.” Wanda hummed, a smirk on her lips that didn’t quite reach her eyes as she practically undressed Natasha. The woman was barely upright anymore, her knees weak as she readjusted her stance time and time again, and you weren’t oblivious to the way her thighs pressed together trying to relieve the ache in her core. If Wanda noticed, which she did, nothing was said about the vain attempts. “Detka, be a dear and help Natalia into the bedroom will you? I want her in a single-column tie before I get up there.” 

Natasha groaned beside you, her head as heavy as a ragdolls as it lulled back and faced the dwindling sunshine like a lonely sunflower would. The train of spiraling thoughts that had been running circles around your brain came to a halting stop at the request, a tinge of pink rising across your neck as you fumbled with your intertwined fingers, not even remember when you had dropped Natasha’s hand, or maybe she had been the one to drop yours, “I don’t– What is that?” 

Wanda, patient as always, merely smiled and inclined her head toward Natasha, an expectant hardness lingering within her sage stare that was darkening by the minute in tune with the depleting sunlight across the sky. It wasn’t cold by any means, still in the warmer months of summertime, but the air around you felt frigid either way. The only thing that could bring warmth back to your body was the touch of your girlfriends. “Natalia will show you. Won’t you, malen'kaya shlyushka. You’ll show our duckling how you like to be restrained to the headboard?” 

“Yebat.” Natasha whimpered, her eyes flickering toward you, filled with desperate longing that didn’t seem to be Wanda’s main concern at the moment. You gnawed at your bottom lip, your eyes hooded and dark, twinged with lust that was steadily growing. “Yes.” Natasha exhaled, eyes flickering back up to meet Wanda’s when the lawyer shifted her stance and inclined her head expectantly. 

“Good girl.” Wanda’s praise was curt and dismissive, not filled with warmth and satisfaction that you had grown so used to in recent months. You found yourself frowning, because even if the praise hadn’t been intended for you, you still hung onto her every word. Wanda, ever observant, didn’t fight the fond expression that slipped across her features as she turned her sharp gaze to you.  “You’re a good girl too, moya utenok. Now go help Natalia. I’ll make sure the ties are okay, Natty won’t get hurt. I just want you to try your best. Okay?” Despite not recognizing the anxiousness that settled in your belly amidst the desperation that brewed simultaneously, the proposition of being the one to restrain Natasha had worried you, but your shoulders relaxed at Wanda’s assurance that your attempt wouldn’t be the final verdict if she found anything less than perfect with the knots you bound her wife with. You nodded, a whispered response filling the air that separated your body from the Sokovians. 

Natasha grabbed your hand, whether it was to steady herself or to ground you, you weren’t entirely sure, but you laced your fingers together and set your course back toward the house where Fanny and Lucky were waiting at the sliding glass door. You’d forgotten about the four legged pups since coming outside, but their hot panting that dirtied the glass implied that they hadn’t forgotten about you. You didn’t try to keep them inside as you slipped in, figuring that keeping them away from the breakable indoors while the three of you were otherwise occupied was the best plan of action if you were going to save Wanda a heart attack. 

“Natalia!” Wanda’s voice was precisely projected as it reached both yours and Natasha’s ears, the thickness of her accent wearing slightly as she forced the words through her diaphragm carefully. It was still a wonder how many years the lawyer had spent in the United States, but it had been enough to ease the traces of home out of her tone naturally. “YA khochu, chtoby utenok byl na rozovom remeshke, kogda ya priyedu tuda.” 

Natasha’s breath stuttered in her chest, and though you were picking up on the simple terms of endearment that they uttered to you routinely, you understood nothing of the sentence that had been just loud enough to settle through the space you occupied. Natasha did however, and when she closed the sliding glass door and guided you deeper into the house, she whispered shortly against the shell of your ear, “Wanda’s trying to kill you.” 

You paled slightly at the confirmation that whatever Wanda had requested, had been in regards to you. Unable to predict what the lawyer could have wanted, you didn’t think to ask, not wanting any distractions that would interfere with the ropes you were instructed to bind. The bedroom was saturated in darkness when you entered through the door, curtains drawn and lights switched off. The only sounds that suggested the room was occupied came from yours and Natasha’s footsteps, but even they were softer than usual. The energy that Wanda possessed had taken its toll, and both of your bodies were eager for sensations that only the Sokovian had the authority to grant. 

Natasha reached for the light switch, drenching the room with artificial brightness that tore shades of cream from the pillowcases adorning the bed. Traces of you lingered across every expanse of space, the room no longer just theirs but yours. Yours to share gentle kisses concealed by darkness in. Yours to sing and dance in when rain pelted the widows and work had been forgotten. Yours to share these intimate moments. Yours. Just yours. 

Natasha tilted her head toward the closet, a space you had grown familiar with for more than just the necessity of needing an outfit in the morning. Your hands reached for the black case that you knew held instruments and toys for a scene like this, but you were stopped before your fingers could ghost against the smooth material. Instead, the Russian reached toward a shelf above the racks of suits and dresses, grabbing a red leather briefcase bound securely by a silver combination lock. Natasha placed it on one of the lesser occupied shelves, her fingers working at the black engraved digits with a practiced ease. 

Despite the submission that you had seen from Natasha minutes prior, she looked down at you with dominance that was familiar and welcomed. Her voice was stern as she spoke to you quietly, not even sparing a glance at the lock that she continued to work open. “We don’t want you in this case unless we tell you. What’s in here is not for you to be playing around with. The combination is our birthdays, I trust that you won’t go snooping around where you don’t belong without permission.” 

“Okay.” You whispered a response, finding that you were practically incapable of speaking at any other volume, entirely consumed with the weight of their presence and not wanting to disturb it. “Natty?” You peered up at your dominant, knowing that tonight was about her but unable to clear the lingering bliss in your head as you looked at her with nothing but sheer admiration. 

“Yes, dorogaya?” Natasha smiled at you softly, her hand reaching to cup your cheek though the tips of her fingers were chilled slightly from the metal she’d been grasping at. You didn’t shy away, leaning into her touch as she let herself be consumed with only you, not the promise of being tied to the bed and fucked into oblivion. “You still okay with watching? Neither of us are going to be upset if you need to leave. Wanda and I don’t have the same rules as we do with you.” 

You shook your head adamantly, wanting her to understand that their hot and heavy dynamic was not the cause of your soft question. “I’m okay. Just wanted to say I love you.” 

Natasha smiled, kissing you softly in the dimly lit closet. The only light that penetrated the space came from the bedroom, but you didn’t need additional light to see the affection in her eyes. “I love you too.” She murmured against your lips, but as quickly as your sacred moment had come, it fell away and your attention was on the case that Natasha pulled open with eager fingers. 

The case, although small, held toys and items that made your eyes bulge and your belly quiver. A collection of knives wrapped pristinely in thick black leather occupied a small fraction of the briefcase, beside it three half melted candles with wicks the color of coal. A pink dildo with a suction cup attachment at the base caught your attention, wondering why it had been displaced from the rest of the dildo’s and strap-ons that the slavic women owned. You didn’t recognize anything else in the case; a bundle of rope that you assumed would be used to restrain Natasha, multiple thin link chain attachments, and an instrument that almost resembled a pizza cutter but the blade was prickled with sharp nubs that looked rather dull. Your eyes searched for Natasha’s, but she was busy rummaging through the case for something unspoken about. Your breathing shuddered when she collected a small bottle of lube in her hands, passing it over to you with a wink. 

She grabbed the dildo and the rope next, closing the case just as quickly as she had opened it although the seconds it took her to find the objects she wanted felt like agonizing minutes. Her eyes, submissive and hazy, found yours in the dimly light brightness of the closer, a soft incline of her head pointing in the direction of the bedroom. “Come on.” You nodded jerkily, following her back into the master bedroom where Wanda’s presence still lacked to be. 

Natasha didn’t head for the bed like you’d been expecting, she headed for the single chair in the corner of the room that had never seen an ounce of attention from the women who preferred to hang around in the living room where sunlight bled in at every angle. You gasped when she stuck the dildo to the seat of the chair, almost a grimace in her face when she turned to look back at you. Although she proceeded to explain what Wanda expected of you, there was no need for an explanation. The bottle of lube in your hands wasn’t for her, it was for you. Another rush of excitement sparked in your belly like connecting live wires, and you barely concealed your whine when Natasha began to strip out of her clothes, leaving them in pristine piles on the nightstand. The lace panties were the last to leave her body, deep red and thin as they slipped down her legs and pooled at her feet with glistening wetness visible across the center. You swallowed thickly, eyes caught on the sight of her core that, although mostly concealed by thighs that you wanted around your head, glimmered distinctly beneath the overhead light. 

Your eyes trailed upward, drinking in the sight of her tensing abs that had only been so prominent last summer; the summer you arranged to be her submissive. Natasha found it easier to work out in the summer, when the weather was inviting and the workload lulled. Her hours spent in the home gym hadn’t been in vain, and the ripples in her muscles held your attention for longer then they should have. You didn’t want to pull your eyes away from her chest, where the sienna color of her breasts became rosy at her nipples that were pebbled and eager for stimulation. Another shuddering breath slipped into the space, but as easily as you’d lost your composure Natasaha was strapping you back into it and handing you the rope. 

She laid starfish on the bed, her swollen and glistening core fully in sight as her thighs spread to allow access to whoever pleased to touch her first. Wanda had said nothing about binding her legs, and the almost silky rose in your hands wouldn’t reach to tether them down. Natasha, head thrown back against the pillows and red curls spilling across them, looked at you expectantly with intense green eyes. Never had this much control been placed on your shoulders, but you wouldn’t disappoint either one of them. Your thighs straddled Natasha’s waist, your chest falling in front of her face as she raised her arms and instructed you through the process of restraining her the way both she and Wanda liked. A whimper fell from your lips when Natasha leaned forward to mouth at your nipple through the thin t-shirt you wore, her hips grinding upwards and forcing sensations of pleasure through your core. You faltered on top of her, panting for breath as you tried to keep your attention on the ties you were making across her wrists, though it proved difficult when her teeth settled firmly around your nipple and tugged. 

“N-Nat.” You whined, hips rocking with their own intention as you dropped your hands to the pillows and let yourself enjoy a single moment of the pleasure she was provoking. Your clit throbbed, your panties are drenched and clinging to your core. You were certain that if Wanda chose this moment to come up the stairs, the sight of you would be painfully erotic. Natasha fully naked, you fully clothed, hips grinding and thrusting and broken moans of pleasure echoing off otherwise silent walls. She could destroy you even beneath you and partially immobile, you were no longer blind to that fact. “S-Stop.” As much as you didn’t want her to, you weren’t sent upstairs to give pleasure and earn pleasure, and the thought of Wanda having a reason to punish the both of you was not a fire you wanted to start at the moment. 

Natasha did stop, but she hummed in disappointment as her head fell back against the pillows, framed by your wrists and hands that still braced the majority of your weight. The knots around her wrists were as good as you would be able to get them without any further instruction, but you had no idea if they were good enough for Wanda’s standards. You didn’t have the opportunity to dwell on the potential failure, able to hear the door sliding against the track and the softness of Wanda’s voice as she told Fanny and Lucky to stay. 

“Do they feel okay?” You checked in softly, peering down between your arms to assure that her face gave no indication of discomfort. The Russian didn’t respond, instead pulling at her arms and humming something that was inaudible with her teeth grinded together and lips pursed tight. “Nat, I need you to tell me if they feel okay.” There was panic in your voice that pulled Natasha back into the moment, eyes searching yours before she realized that the soft sounds Wanda made as her feet braced the hardwood were growing closer and closer. Her footsteps weren’t yet on the stairs that led to the room you occupied, but close enough to remind you both of how you weren’t in the positions she’d requested. 

“They’re perfect, detka.” Natasha smiled encouragingly, bucking her hips beneath you once more, though this time the action was a reminder to shuffle off of her and settle yourself on the fuschia toy that was admittedly an eyesore within the neutral toned room. Your clothes came off in sloppy movements, not folded neatly like Natasha’s as they piled onto the floor and became wrinkled. The bottle of lube was unneeded with the thick ropes of arousal that clung to your inner thighs, a whine ripping from the back of your throat as you eased yourself onto the toy but forced your hips to remain still, not having Wanda’s permission to ride it just yet. You felt exceedingly full, each groove amongst the shaft pushing against the sensitive interior of your tight channel. Your eyes fluttered closed when you sucked in a breath, jostling your body just enough to earn a sweet sensation of pleasure within your velvet walls. Your eyes had been closed when Wanda entered, but they snapped open at the sound of Natasha mewling on the bed. 

When your eyes found the Sokovian, she was leaning overtop of Natasha, both knees digging into the mattress beneath her though it barely sunk with her additional weight. Her fingers were adored with glimmering rings like they always were, though now they threaded into the intricate knots you had made with the beige colored rope and pulled tightly. She hummed her satisfaction when she found nothing wrong with the structure of the ties, juniper eyes searching for yours as she smiled proudly. 

“Good job, little duckling.” She praised sweetly, though the words dripped with danger as she possessed that same glint of passion in her eyes that had appeared beneath the sunset. “I didn’t know my sweet girl would be so skilled at tying her Daddy up.” Your core pulsed around the toy in your core, wetness seeping into the smooth faux leather beneath you. A whimper fell off your lips before you could keep it in, and Wanda’s lips twinged into a smile of fake sympathy. “I bet that pussy’s so full, malyshka. Why don’t you tell Natalia how good you feel, this poor little pussys aching for the same treatment. Isn’t that right, slut?” You gaped at the resounding slap that echoed off Wanda’s palm as she let her hand fall across the Russian’s hot cunt, wetness glistening beneath the light as the Sokovian pulled her hand back to inspect, toying with the arousal that remained on the expanse of her tinted pink skin. “So wet. Did you enjoy having your little girl tie you up, Natalia?” 

Natasha moaned desperately, her hips chasing after Wanda’s hand that wasn’t willing to repeat the former action. Her head bobbed against the pillows, curls becoming frizzy and wild from the frantic  nod that became the only answer she provided. Wanda, seemingly satisfied with Natasha’s chosen silence, turned her gaze back to you, the demand to share your experience heavy in the silence.

Your cheeks, pink and flush, became hotter at the premise of vocalizing the sensations that were admittedly dull with lack of any major movement. “You’ll learn very quickly that I do not ask twice, milaya. Use your words before you earn the same rules as Natalia.” You didn’t know Natasha’s rules, they’d never been discussed, but her silence was enough to guess that she wasn’t allowed to speak without permission. 

“It feels g-good. I feel so full, N-Nat.” You cried out, hips twitching for movement that you wouldn’t allow. However short your explanation was, Wanda seemed pleased as she turned her attention to Natasha, who up until this point, had received the bare minimum. 

Wanda’s fingers sought out Natasha’s nipples, and although yours remained untouched and entirely fine, you winced at the force behind her synchronous tugs. Natasha’s back arched off the bed and into Wanda’s hands, either an attempt to seek more or to lessen the sting entirely. The wanton moans that fell past her lips like a symphony were indicative of the pleasure the action had provided, and although her legs weren’t bound, you didn’t miss the twitch of her muscles as she strained to remain still. 

Your core pleaded for more, walls fluttering around the intrusion of the toy that you hadn’t quite gotten used to yet. The stretch felt intimidating, and so eagerly you wanted to bring your hips upward only to sink back down and accept the presence again. Your nails dug into the arms of the chair, knuckles white from the strength of your grip. Across the room, Wanda was tongue deep in Natasha’s mouth, the only sounds that existed around them being the wet smacks of lips losing suction and gasped breaths. Natasha, with her hands bound, fought against the restraints trying to reach out and touch Wanda, but her efforts failed each time she pulled, the knots unwilling to loosen enough for her hands to slip through. Wanda pulled away with a pleased hum, her fingers back at Natasha’s nipples as she twisted them harshly in tune with the other. 

“Please.” Natasha cried out, writhing on the bed as her legs closed tightly, slick thighs rubbing together in an attempt to bring even an ounce of pleasure over her desperate body. Wanda wasn’t pleased by her efforts, hearing the slap land on Natasha’s cheek before you could process seeing it. Wanda was quick, efficient and cruel, but Natasha wasn’t backing down. The lawyer wriggled and thrashed on the bed, a symphony of Russian falling off her tongue as she kept her eyes wide and on Wanda. 

“Do not make me remind you of the rules, Natalia.” Wanda growled lowly, her voice thick with traces of an accent that suited her well, but only worsened your fate as you tried not to let your restraint crumble, wanting desperately to be good for her. You whined on the chair in the corner of the room, unable to stop yourself as you watched Wanda strike Natasha a third time, the Russian a moaning mess beneath the Sokovian as her cheek took on the faintest handprint of pink. “Is there something you need, moya utenok?” 

“C-Can I– Please–” Your desperation had finally won over, and even without Wanda’s permission your hips grinded and thrashed against the leather beneath your thighs, guiding the dildo into that perfectly spongy part of your walls with ease. The sounds of your arousal were embarrassingly loud in the otherwise quiet room, and you could feel Natasha’s eyes on you as she laid stiff and still beneath Wanda. “Please?” 

Wanda hummed thoughtfully, but when she spoke, your blood ran cold with dread and shame. “It seems neither of you need my permission anymore.” She gave you a pointed glare, and your hips stuttered to a stop, no longer searching for pleasure as you shrunk beneath her glare. “Is that what you’d like, moya utenok? For Mommy to let you do whatever you please?” 

Frantically you shook your head, eyes wide and brimming with tears that had no reason to fall but gathered against your waterline anyway. You hated the mere idea of that ever happening, and you were in no mood to test the truth behind her implication. “No! No Mommy!” You pleaded with her, aware of how pitiful and distressed you sounded as your cries shattered the silence. Natasha, though still beneath the fog that had gathered at the forefront of her mind in the face of Wanda’s brutal ministrations, nudged her knee upward, shaking her head at Wanda when the attention fell back down to her. 

When Wanda’s eyes returned to you, they were softer, greener, filled with a gentle affection that had been impossible to find second earlier. “Do you want to ride the dildo, moya lyubov’?” Her voice was softer, kinder, taking on the tone she’d always devoted to you alone. It was a complete turn around from how she’d been addressing Natasha, but the presence of her accent hadn’t wavered. 

“Please Mommy!” You cried out, unsure of how many minutes you’d been impaled by the thick toy, but enough for the sun to have completely settled beneath the moon and taken its warmth with it. The window was open beyond the pulled curtains, a lingering breeze sweeping past your naked skin before it fell short of the bed where Wanda and Natasha remained entangled. The Sokovian’s hands were braced on the Russian’s abdomen, thighs around her waist squeezing tightly and restricting movement. 

“Go ahead, dorogaya. Let me hear those pretty sounds whilst I see how many edges my little slut can handle before she’s begging for mercy.” Wanda smiled eerily sweetly, casting her eyes back down to Natasha who was flush with arousal and the beginning of a grimace. “How many was it last time, hm? Ten?” 

“Eleven.” Natasha corrected, her eyes wide and pleading as she maintained eye contact with Wanda, her fingers twitching as she remained bound to the headboard that you’d thought was going to snap with the might of her struggles. “Wands, I want–” 

“I don’t care what you want, Natalia.” Wanda quipped before the rest of the sentence could ever exist outside of Natasha’s scrambled thoughts. The Russian nodded frantically, swallowing thickly in complete submission but even her reclaimed silence wasn’t enough to satisfy Wanda who pinched the skin of her thigh until she winced and moaned needily, entirely unmade and pliant to be shaped into something new; something a little bit like you. “What do I keep you around for?” 

“To please you.” Natasha’s voice was breathy and soft, the willingness to fight that had begun to swarm within her eyes that tinted a shade similar to evergreen entirely dismantled, replaced by a desire to submit without hesitance. 

“Dumb little sluts do not get to decide how I take my pleasure. Do not make me regret not gagging you.” Wanda scolded, and Natasha was eager to nod her head in understanding, whimpering into the near-silent room when her obedience was rewarded with a single finger circling her pebbled nipple. 

Your hips grinded against the dildo buried deep within your pussy, guiding it across your slick walls near perfectly each time. Wanda’s eyes were transfixed on Natasha, but every few minutes she glanced back at you, and when she did, you could only whimper. In the minutes that it had taken to accomplish such a satisfying pace, Wanda had eased her mouth down to the spot where Natasha needed her most, tongue not daring to be kind as it circled and flicked at the throbbing bundle of nerves that had pleaded for attention since the start. Shattering moans and whispered pleas fell off of Natasha’s tongue, but each time the Russian grew too close to the edge, Wanda pulled away and her hand slapped harshly against Natasha’s cunt. 

At the seventh edge, you’d never seen Natasha so beside herself. Pear shaped tears fell down her perfectly rosy cheeks and dampened the pillow cases when they eventually dripped off her unblemished skin and landed silently against the cotton covers. Her wrists had grown red from the relentless writhing and pulling, but her attention was solely on Wanda who offered no break. Three fingers worked the Russian open and scissored her wide, never fully pulling out before they slammed back into her at a pace so brutal it would be no surprise if she felt the aftermath for days. Your own orgasm was drawing closer as you watched Natasha submit and Wanda claim, and each snap of your hips only further invited it along. 

The eight edge had Natasha wailing, throwing her head back as her hips jerked upward and chased after Wanda. Like every time before, the Sokovian voiced no sympathy, and her hand came down heavy and punishing against the swollen skin that adorned ropes of arousal. Natasha yearned for more, her face begged for Wanda to repeat the simple action of slapping her cunt, but just like the seven times that had come before, her unspoken request was denied. 

“So pretty when you cry for me. Moya khoroshen'kaya malen'kaya shlyukha. Is that what you are? My pretty little whore?” Wanda teased cynically, juniper no longer a shade amongst the blackness of her eyes entirely dilated by lust adorned pupils. She looked entirely ravenous with her hair tousled and chin glimmering with Natasha’s arousal. 

“Y-Yes.” Natasha cried out desperately, her voice scratchy now as it reached your ears. Your hips continued to stutter against the dildo, but without permission to cum, you forced away the growing tension that pulled at every muscle in your belly and begged for relief. 

“Let me hear you say it.” Wanda pushed further, the tips of her fingers tracing the softest shapes into the slickness across Natasha’s inner thighs. 

There wasn’t an ounce of hesitation that crossed Natasha’s face before she was desperately crying out, “I’m your pretty little whore! P-Please Wanda! Please!” 

“So fucking desperate.” Wanda tutted, a single finger sweeping through Natasha’s folds, though she pointedly avoided the Russian clit that throbbed for even an ounce of attention. Wanda was off the bed in seconds, coming straight at you with her glistening finger outstretched. You didn’t need to ask what she wanted, leaning forward to accept the arousal soaked digit into your mouth with eyes as wide as saucers the second she was close enough. 

Wanda hummed, pleased with your desperation, a fond smile pulling at her lips. “Good girl, malyshka.” She groaned at the feeling of your tongue sucking her fingers clean, your tongue lapping across the expanse of her knuckles as she pressed against your tongue, not hard enough to force you to gag, but enough to make your brain fill with static pleasure. You jumped when hot breath tickled the sensitive skin of your neck, leaning into her despite your skin not yet touching. “I know you want to cum, sweet girl. You’ve been so good waiting for Mommy’s permission, I didn’t forget about you. You can cum whenever you want, but that’s it. You don’t need to keep up with Natalia.” Wanda whispered so softly against the shell of your ear you questioned if she was even real. The harshness that she had addressed you with before entirely dismantled. You leaned your forehead against her shoulder, panting as your hips hadn’t stilled on the toy saturated with your arousal. Although the dildo was suctioned to the chair, one of your hands forced it to remain at the perfect angle between your thighs, and each time you drove your hips against the toy, your clit caught on the knuckle of your thumb only spurring you further into a frenzied state as you chased the orgasm you were finally allowed to have. 

Wanda’s touch was gone far too soon, but your eyes traced her steps as she retreated back to Natasha. The redhead was beside herself as she wiggled and squirmed, chest heaving breaths that weren’t quite full. Wanda didn’t hesitate to restart her efforts at working Natasha toward relief, though this time she was much less graceful. Her fingers provoked squelching sounds from the tight cunt they occupied, her arousal coated tongue flicked unforgivingly and quick. Natasha looked like the rawest depiction of beauty as she cried out and whined, desperate to tangle her fingers into Wanda’s hair but to no avail did she succeed. 

It had taken you only minutes to reach a high that had your toes curling and your thighs trembling. Without the grip of either of your girlfriends steadying your hips as you came crashing through your orgasm, your body jerked and writhed for more and less simultaneously. A melodious whine fell off the tip of your tongue before it was overshadowed by a moan that had your lips vibrating at the reverberations. Every muscle in your body tensed before it became nothing but jelly, leaving you a heap of sweat and arousal on the chair suddenly feeling very naked and exposed before the rapidly cooling breeze that snuck in through the open window behind you. Natasha’s eyes were locked on you, her head turned toward the side as she took in the sight of your self-inflicted orgasm. In the year that you had been involved with the Russian, she’d never allowed such a thing. You’d nearly forgotten what it felt like to pleasure yourself in all the best ways, but that wasn’t really what happened anyways, you’d followed all of Wanda’s instructions, you’d waited for permission to fall over the edge, even without the touch of another, you’d never really been in control. 

Your peace was shattered by a sharp and exceedingly needy while falling off of Natasha’s lips, her gaze snapping back toward where Wanda was perched between her thighs as another orasgam ended before it even started. You almost felt bad, almost. Although you weren’t even able to imagine the kind of torment that came with being edged in the same room as your girlfriend that had permission to cum whenever she wanted, Natasha wanted this. It was hard to feel sympathy for a woman who walked herself into a trap and had been the very one to close the door. A smile splayed across your lips when Wanda slapped her cunt, and you couldn’t help the giggle that came soon after when Natasha rattled off the long list of curses she knew in English. Your orgasm had brought a new sense of clarity over your once hazy mind, and now the actions that had seemed so cruel and ruthless, merely resembled affection and mutual trust. Natasha was a strong woman, but she was seemingly a slut in the same breath.

Wanda’s eyes met yours, glimmering with something sharp as a smirk replaced the permanent thin line that sat on her lips whenever Natasha was the focus of her attention. There was amusement clear in her eyes, something twisted lingering beneath the surface that you longed to know the reason for. “You find something funny, malyshka?” 

Revived from the pliable state that you’d fallen beneath at the first instance of Wanda’s unfiltered dominance, your eyes lingering on Natasha’s face for barely a moment before you returned your gaze to Wanda and feigned perfect innocence. “Natty bit off more than she can chew.” You stated simply, aware of how you were betraying the woman that you yourself had bound to the bed, but more aware of the fact that Wanda seemed pleased with your admission. 

“That she did.” Wanda hummed, her fingers toying with Natasha’s sopping entrance that begged for more, but she wasn’t willing to give in. “Come here, my little duckling.” Wanda inclined her head toward where she was perched between Natasha’s thighs, and although your legs felt like jelly beneath you, you didn’t hesitate to comply with the demand. Your breath stuttered when the dildo finally slipped out of your pussy, the veiny grooves rubbing against every hypersensitive inch of your walls. None of the other dildos had such prominent veins, and although it was admittedly one of the smaller toys you’d taken since beginning a relationship with Wanda especially, you felt painfully empty without it inside of you. 

Your steps were wobbly and slow, reminiscent of Bambi if you remembered correctly, but Wanda was in no rush to have you at her side and so she waited with an encouraging smile on her arousal drenched lips. It was warmer beside the bed, that was the first thing you noticed when you’d finally reached where Wanda laid. The wind didn’t dip so far into the room that Natasha felt the chill cold, yet you wondered the response she’d have to being encased by the soft breeze. She was responsive as it is, a shift in temperature was certain to have her mewling for something that wasn’t allowed just yet. 

“Since you find Natalia’s position so funny, detka, I want you to edge her while I ride her face.” Wanda smirked, and suddenly you weren’t finding Natasha’s position so funny anymore. Being allowed to eat either one of them out was the ultimate privilege, something you almost always had to beg for, but now it was being offered without bait, yet it came with a price that felt too steep to pay. Having to deny Natasha an orgasm sounded absolutely horrible. All you ever wanted to do was make her cum quickly and effectively. Wanda was aware of how eager you always seemed to be at the proposition of feeling either of their orgasms on your tongue, and either she’d forgotten that, or she didn’t care at all. 

“But– Wanda!” You whined, desperately hoping that you’d change her mind, but you knew the reality of your situation; either you got on your knees and complied with her request, or she carried on doing it herself. No matter your decision, no matter if it was your tongue or hers, Natasha wasn’t seeing an orgasm until she’d surpassed her last record. 

“Not so funny now is it, milaya?” Wanda grinned like the cheshire cat, and you properly felt like a scolded child beneath her wild stare. You shook your head adamantly at the question, a smile no longer ghosting across your bitten lips as you looked between her and Natasha’s pink and swollen cunt. It was properly abused, fucked out and dripping onto the sheets yet still begging for more of what she wasn’t yet allowed. “What’s your choice, utenok? My little sluts running out of patience.” Her word was true. Natasha looked ready to crumble at any minute, her eyes bouncing between you and Wanda with nothing but desperation in her heavy gaze. 

“Do I have to edge her?” You whispered timidly, looking pleadingly up at the Sokovian. Wanda didn’t respond, merely quirked an expectant eyebrow down at you and shifted her position. You sighed, shoving her out of the way in a manner that was less than graceful, but thankfully it went unreprimanded. 

“Good choice.” Wanda hummed, already standing beside the bed and stripping eagerly out of her clothes. Her skin was tinted with lingering traces of the sun, thin lines adorning her shoulders from where bathing suits had forbidden the kiss of daylight. She looked entirely ethereal as she shimmied out of her own black panties, letting them pool around her ankles for merely a moment before she kicked them away and took her place overtop of Natasha. Her thighs framed the Russian’s face, individual freckles adorning her shins and thighs begging to be kissed and fawned over, but no such thing would happen tonight. With a sharp request for Natasha to stick her tongue out, she sank herself lower and lower until her pussy made contact with the hot and ready muscle. “I’ll tell you what, moya lyubov’,” Wanda began, a cynical smirk on her lips as she grinded her hips against Natasha’s face, dampening the flush skin with her arousal. “if you can get Natalia close with only your fingers, I’ll allow her to cum when I do. If you can’t, we add four more edges.” 

“B-But I want to taste her!” You cried out, looking at Wanda with wild eyes that begged her to fold, but she wouldn’t. This was the kindest she’d been all evening and yet it was still so painfully cruel. 

“Well that’s a shame, sweetheart.” Wanda pouted, but her words were anything but sincere as she rocked against Natasha’s tongue and drug her clit against the textured surface, falling into bliss the longer she kept up with her ministrations. 

You whined, settling on just using your fingers, not able to bring yourself to edge Natasha even further, or at all. Even if she was merely your girlfriend in this moment, all you ever wanted to do was cause pleasure, not be the one to take it away. Your fingers brushed through her folds gently, but Natasha still flinched away and tried to close her thighs. Your body between her legs forbade her from doing so, leaving her entrance easily accessible. You winced yourself, knowing that your fingers were frigid against her hot and worked up cunt, but you didn’t give her the chance to grow accustomed to the feeling. Wanda wasn’t slowing down, and you knew she’d be cruel enough to force you to stop if she were to cum before Natasha grew close. You set a brutal pace, not sparing pleasantries like you’d typically do. Your fingers curled against the softest spot of Natasha’s walls the way you knew she enjoyed, and you committed the sound of her squelching pussy to memory. You’d seen her wet before, you’d gotten her wet before, but you’d never taken the time to unravel her the way Wanda had. She was properly soaked, sheets drenched and darkened beneath her trembling thighs. 

The pad of your thumb found her clit when her walls tightened around your fingers, rubbing skilled circles against the sensitive bud that begged for release you hoped you could provide in time. You didn’t offer praises, didn’t let encouragement slip into the silence filled by only Wanda’s moans as hers became muffled against the cunt riding her face. You were certain they’d fall on deaf ears at this point, entirely positive that Natasha was too far gone into Wanda to even hear you utter her name. Instead, you encouraged her with the pressure of your thumb against her clit and the punishing speed at which you pumped your fingers in and out of her cunt. You had her right on the edge, right at the point of coming apart completely, but Wanda wasn’t close. In your overzealous attempt to match the pace in which the Sokovian had set, you walked not only you, but Natasha into a trap. 

“Stop.” Wanda demanded, and you had no choice but to comply, your fingers coming to a halting stop within Natasha’s cunt that was so desperate for something sweet. You whimpered at the feeling of Natasha’s velvety walls fluttering around your fingers, her clit throbbing beneath your thumb as her hips squirmed wildly on the bed. There was no way you’d be sleeping here tonight, not with Wanda’s insurance that you never sleep on sheets that aren’t perfectly clean. “I’ll give you another chance, moya lyubov’, do not let it go to waste again.” Your eyes snapped up to hers, unsure of whether it was yet another game she was playing, but when her head tilted the the side and her lips pursed, whether it was to hold back her own moans or to intimidate you, you weren’t entirely sure, you knew she wasn’t. 

You nodded frantically, all attempts to get Natasha to the edge resuming, and it wasn’t a hard feat. The Russian was sensitive, so slick your fingers had almost slipped out, but she was already climbing that hill of pleasure again beneath your thumb and around your fingers. It took seconds, mere seconds to have her at that perfect place again, but unlike the last attempt, Wanda was right along with her. The Sokovian moaned as her head fell backward and her hips stuttered, Natasha’s binded hands unable to provide support like she otherwise would’ve. You didn’t wait for permission to fall from Wanda’s lips between her broken moans and breaths, tripling the efforts you’d already set in place to get Natasha thrown off that cliff and into bliss. Your tongue found her clit the second she toppled over, soothing the harsh sensations that you’d previously provided. You moaned at the first taste of her on your tongue, licking and sucking at every expanse of sensitive skin until she was writhing beneath you for an entirely separate reason. 

Your fingers fell away from her cunt at the first indication of oversensitivity, but your tongue kept up its pace, licking her out until you were certain that not an ounce of arousal clung to her skin anymore. That wasn’t enough for you however, and your tongue lapped at the arousal that dampened her thighs, licking it away with eager swipes. At some point, Wanda had eased herself off of Natasha’s face and had begun to undo the binding around her wrists, but you hadn’t realized the Russian was free of her restraints until calloused hands gently reached for your face and pulled you up to see her eye to eye. 

You looked absolutely ravaged with her arousal clinging to your chin and lips, and a blush across your cheeks from your own orgasm. Eagerly you crawled up onto the bed fully, only faintly aware of the ache in your knees and back from the position you’d been laid in as you unraveled her completely. You straddled her lap when she guided you into doing so, your arms twisting around her neck before you dug your face into her shoulder, hiding away from the light. 

“What can I do for you?” You asked softly, voice muffled by her shoulder but she’d understood you perfectly, her hand coming up to stroke along the back of your head as she held you in place. You were vaguely aware of Wanda walking back into the closet, but you didn’t question what she was searching for, content to just be back in Natasha’s arms.  

“Just let me hold you, malyshka. You did such a good job for us.” She praised you quietly, her voice scratchy and raw from the hours of screaming she’d done. You hadn’t realized how much time had slipped away since she’d guided you into the closet by your hand, but the clock on the nightstand hadn’t lied to you yet, and the illuminated numbers indicated that two hours had been devoted to breaking Natasha down. 

“I should be telling you that.” You huffed, curing further into her body, desperate to encase yourself in her warmth. Natasha didn’t mind, letting you curl around her like a little koala as she held you sweetly in the center of the bed. “I never wanna edge you again.” You mumbled against her neck, turning your head so you were pressed directly against her, your soft breaths tickling the sensitive skin of her ear. 

Natasha laughed at your admission, and a gentle finger guided your chin up so your eyes could meet fully and properly for the first time in hours. “You ever edge me again, your ass will be over my lap before you can even say your sorry.” There was no bite to her words, but you never wanted to find out if she was being serious, so you merely nodded quickly in response. “I know Wanda scared you earlier. She gets lost in her head sometimes, she didn’t mean it.” Natasha soothed, but you’d already figured that her words from hours ago weren’t honest. They’d assured you at least a hundred times that the only way you were ever getting away from them, is if it was your own carefully thought over decision. 

“I know.” You whispered, leaning in to brush your lips against Natasha’s in a soft kiss. It was the softest touch she’d felt in hours, and eagerly she leaned into it, giggling at the taste of her own arousal when your tongue brushed against hers. “Ya tebya lyublyu.” You murmured against her, giggling when her lips curled into a grin and she peppered kisses across every inch of your face that she could reach in this position.

“Ya tozhe tabya lyublyu.” She mumbled back, her eyes dancing behind you when Wanda reappeared from the closet. You settled against Natasha’s chest, not wanting to leave her embrace anytime soon, and it didn’t feel like she wanted to let go either. Your eyes fell upon Wanda, who at some point, had thrown a t-shirt on and tied her hair back up into its once occupied messy bun. You made grabby hands at the woman, an action that you had recently learned she could never deny. 

“Privet, moy sladkiy malysh.” Wanda smiled fondly, coming to join both you and Natasha in the mess of sheets. You hadn’t noticed the clothes in her hand before, but you watched as she sat two t-shirts down on the pillow cases that were still damp from Natasha’s tears, and a bottle of cooling lotion quickly joined the pile. She snuggled close against Natasha’s side, her fingers tangling into the Russian’s hair in the same soft and tender way you’d grown accustomed to. “What do you need, Natty?” She asked softly but received the same answer that you had, Natasha just wanting the both of you close for a while. 

Wanda sighed softly, already beginning to detangle herself from Natasha’s arms. “Let me put lotion on your wrists, then I’ll give you both all the cuddles.” 

Natasha groaned, her stubborn attitude already peaking through the surface level haze that twinkled within her eyes. “They don’t even hurt that bad, let me hold you.” 

“You say that every time, and every time I listen to you, you make me get out of bed at three in the morning.” Wanda rolled her eyes, but affection was clear as day in her tone as she didn’t fight the smile that tugged at the corners of her lips. “Hug your duckling, she deserves some cuddles for being such a good girl.” Wanda winked at you, and you blushed beneath her smothered praise, hiding your face in Natasha’s chest much to both of their amusement. 

“The best girl.” Natasha pressed a kiss into the top of your head, her lips lingering for longer than necessary, though you weren’t complaining. You settled against her chest, watching Wanda unscrew the cap on the lotion and squeeze a generous amount onto the palm of her hands. Tentatively, you reached your own hand out, wanting to help ease Natasha’s pain in any way possible. Wanda didn’t question your action, squeezing the tiniest pea sized dollop onto your fingers and instructing you to be soft, but make sure that it was all evenly applied. 

Natasha gazed down at you with tender softness in her eyes as you gently took her wrist into your hands and rubbed in the lotion. She couldn’t help the tears that glimmered in her waterline as you eased yourself into her aftercare routine without hesitation, just another part of their life that you so easily integrated into. You beamed up at Wanda when you were done, giggling when the Sokovian kissed the tip of your nose and praised you softly. 

It wasn’t until you heard Lucky bark through the open window that you remembered about the dogs that were still outside and probably hungry by now, the sun having faded into darkness hours ago. You looked between Wanda and Natasha, a crease in your brow as you asked, “Um, do we even have dog food?” 

malen'kaya shlyushka – little slut

ya khochu, chtoby utenok byl na rozovom remeshke, kogda ya priyedu tuda. – i want the duckling on the pink strap by time i come in

privet, moy sladkiy malysh – hi, my sweet baby

[teymars]

NSFW hc’s for the Sully men bc I am bored:

MDNI

General:

• They are each EXTREMELY fertile, pregnancy is almost inescapable when you’re with one of these boys.

• On top of being very fertile, they enjoy breeding their women more than anything, so cock-warming is a nonnegotiable.

• They have great stamina, allowing them to go round after round, ensuring they “fuck you properly”.

• They aren’t particularly vocal, (unless overstimulated) but the growling, grunting and whimpering in your ear never ceases.

• Major pleasure doms fs

• Think with their dicks more than anything (specifically Jake and Lo’ak)

• They enjoy scenting and marking their women in every way possible, even if it’s just leaving you full of leaking cum, to fend off other interested men.

Jake:

• He will happily be late to any of his duties if it means an opportunity to fuck you full.

• Is especially sensitive about you touching his jewels, the feeling of them swelling within your small grasp always has him keening.

• Won’t admit it aloud but he’s totally came untouched to the thought of you in lingerie, giving him a lap-dance.

• Hates when you hide your noises from him, he doesn’t give two shits if somebody is standing 5ft away, let them know you’re his.

• Likes to fuck around by grinding against you in public, not so subtly. He has no regrets when you’re all needy and wet for him by the evening.

• Enjoys littering your inner thighs with deep-purple marks, secretly hoping they are noticeable to other people later on.

• Uses his old camera to create some fun videos with you, mainly so he can fuck into his own fist whilst you’re busy.

• Craves nights where you beg him to be rough, sure he enjoys making slow tender love to you, but being able to use you as he pleases always excites.

Neteyam:

• Is a huge family guy, consistently keeping you bred and arguing that his heart will never be full enough of you and your ever-growing family.

• Prefers your muffled moans and gasps, he’d rather be the only man in the universe to hear such sounds from you, he can prove you are all his in so many other ways after all.

• He is always in favour of doggy-style. He’d never pass up the chance to mount and rut into you with all the energy he has. Simultaneously pushing your head into the cushions of your shared bed.

• He will lean over your shoulder and whisper the filthiest nothings, accompanied by licking your hot pulse-point, hoping to encourage copious amounts of slick from you to aid in his relentless pounding.

• Absolutely has a dick and tongue piercing. Though he may be a bit ashamed by his past foolishness, he soon figures the endless orgasms they produce from you are quite worth it.

• If he isn’t thinking tactically or about what his next meal will be (probably you), he’s planning all the positions he will put you in throughout the night.

• Gets especially needy in the mornings, often waking you up with the prodding of his swollen cock-head, at your already soaked entrance.

• Is especially sensitive on his tip, the way your walls squeeze and slide over it have him near cumming on the spot each time. When it pushes against the textures of your cervix though, he dives over the edge practically every time. (Good thing he’s got that endless stamina)

Bonus: • Will lazily thrust into you throughout the early morning, coaxing both your orgasms slowly before thrusting forward abruptly and emptying every last drop into your aching cunt, remaining there until he is 110% certain you’ll be giving him another child to cherish.

Lo’ak:

• Loves to sit and watch you fuck yourself with your fingers all evening, smirking consistently because he KNOWS his cock has ruined you for anything & anyone else.

• Will comfortably have a conversation with any family member over the comm devices, while fully sheathed inside your warmth.

• Will attempt to breed you anywhere, anytime regardless of who is around. That man has his priorities set fs.

• Fucking creams himself when you openly submit to him, wether it be through a suggestive “yes sir” or spreading yourself open upon your shared bed, ready for him.

• Bites onto your shoulder to muffle his increasing moans when your soft pussy becomes too much for him. The feeling of his cock’s ridges hooking into your wet walls only intensifying this.

• Most sensitive at his slit, the second you tease your delicate fingers or hot tongue along it, he is gone. His hips will be jolting as he fights to hold back an orgasm, succumbing to the tantalising feeling of your pinkie-finger pushing into his tiny slit, teasing him.

• Secretly wants nipple piercings but would never express that openly, he fears what will become of him the day you realise how stimulated his tits can get. Sticks to ear piercings instead and is yet to grasp how Neteyam dealt with the pain of piercing his own cock.

• Also unlike Neteyam, he is not as fussed about ensuring his bloodline carries on through the next 20 generations, BUT he does take pride in having a family with you and will never refuse breeding you so long as you’ll let him.

And that’s all, feel free to speak on any of your own hc’s!! 🩵

[ratcash-wasgud]

Tragicomedy

okay gang, hear me out. ik most ppl who follow me are here for bes but PLLLLSSSSS

this came to me in a dream and i feel like i would fail as prophet if i didn't deliver it

anyways, enjoy.

art major!ellie x reader vs rugby player!abby x reader.

a.n.:Okay, before we start, the reader will get a little specific (like in my other works, lmao). plus tw for homophobia.

Part 2 is done!!!

"Ellie Williams"

Ellie started at her own signature under a painting in the hall of the school. Her college had a small exhibition of the art major student's works, and she submitted a painting of a flower she saw in the nearby park, and the butterfly which is supposed to symbolize...well, you. When other people ask, it symbolizes love and freedom though, but it's wings are strangely the same colour as your eyes, and it's spots are the same as your hair.

She only chose this painting because she somehow hoped you'd come, compliment her painting, then she'll ask you out on a date to her favourite cafe, then boom! Marriage. Or that's Dina's plan, actually. Ellie knew it was stupid. You'd never like her. Why? Easy. Abby Anderson has her eyes on you as well, and who wouldn't chose the female rugby team's captain? Exactly.

Even if Abby is straight, Ellie sees the was she looks at you. You are the that cute girl who hangs around campus alone, reading a book, wearing headphones, or just casually taking pictures of flowers and bugs. Nobody could resist your cuteness, and Ellie feels like the whole thing is a personal attack towards her. She tried talking to you a couple times, and turns out you're also very friendly. She has a couple common interests with you, like comic books. Life was good for a couple days when she could just randomly bump into you (tottaly not on purpose), holding a comic you purposely talked about, then she could blow away almost two hours for you and her nerding out about said comic. But then?

Abby came in the picture. She suddenly started to appear next to you on multiple occasions, throwing her meaty arms around you, doing that stupid, cocky smirk of hers. And what do you do? You giggle at her stupid jokes.

What Ellie didn't know, on the other hand, is that Abby was nothing like how people precieved her as. Yeah, sure, she was a rugby player who was kind of a jock, but she wasn't cocky. If anything, she was more like a big puppy, who happened loved hamburgers and tackling people. It's not her fault it's fun. She also happened to like pretty girls.

Not the girls the rugby team would usually get associated with, the ones with short skirts, perfect hair or long, clack-y nails. She did like those things though, but she learned that she has a type.

A type for cute girls with a nose and eyes that wrinkle up when they smile, who paint cute shit on their nails, and the ones who still own, and name their stuffed animals. And surprise surprise, you fit that type perfectly.

Abby knew that too. That's why she got attached to your hip out of the blue. She found out about you through Mel, who was her roomate and your coworker at your partime job at this rundown diner.

But Abby knew she had to stay in her lane. She comes from a small town, full of old fashioned people, so she knows how little the chance is of you actually being into women. She never did anything risky or too touchy. Plus, she was kind of knew into this whole gay thing. She realized stuff kind of late. She has a disadvantage against all the cool gay women she say around campus, proudly wearing their pride pins, or holding hands in the halls.

She thinks if she did anything like that, she'd just get called a dyke by her teammates and her family. She never even did anything with a woman before. She knows how to do it, obviously she has internet, but still...just the thought of actually owning a strap kind of makes her nervous.

But Ellie knows what's up. She had a girlfriends before. She even owns toys just for the purpose of pleasing women. She's even out, so most people know about her lesbian intentions when she talks to a girl she finds attractive. But not withouth a price though. She did get called slurs before, and by Abby's circle too, so she has solid reasons to hate the whole friendgrounp. Even if Abby herself never said anything, she still stood there, arms crossed and eyebrows scrunched up. And now, she tries to cling to the one girl Ellie had a genuine crush on since highschool? That's not fair. It's targeted, even.

It has to a be a hatecrime or something.

"It's the library, not a gym, Anderson. You must be confused, get lost." Ellie says with a scowl as she puts her finger between the pages of a comic book she has been explaining to you.

It's the first time she had found you alone in weeks, and she just has to spawn herself into the situation. Of course.

"Oh, get fucked, Williams." Abby shoots her a glare before putting her hand on the table you two are sitting at, and looming behind you. "Sorry, I was rudely interrupted before I could...you know, say hi." She says to you with a corny smile.

Ellie can't help but roll her eyes.

"Hi to you too." You smile lightly, putting your own comic book into your lap. You're especially pretty today, Abby thinks. She wonders if it's because of someone.

"So...you know, I was wondering if you'd wanna...uhh..." Abby takes a deep breath as she rubs her arm, but doing as casually as she can. "Come with me to that cute lil' diner down the street. I actually have a cupon for free milkshakes."

Ellie purses her lips and glares.

"She works at a diner, dumbass, I don't think she wants to spend her free time in one too," She says, now the page of the comic is forgotten as she crosses her arms. "I'm sure she'd like a place like...the amusement park more. It just happens that I have tickets for the weekend." Boom. Ellie smirks internally.

"The amusement park?" You perk up, cute bambi eyes widening. You seemed to like that idea. "Yeah! We should go together." You smile and Ellie feels like a whole storm just blew a bunch of flowers into her face. It's lovely, really. Until, "Right, Abby?"

Huh? You meant...all three of you?

Abby looks just as shocked as Ellie, and does her best to act nonchalant. "Yeah, sure. But I won't carry you after you die on a rollercoaster." She snickers, shooting Ellie a siteating grin.

Both women knew they couldn't decline this stupid three-way date, since they couldn't actually invite you anywhere on their own. So, amusement park it was.

The weekend came, and to you, it was such a nice day. You didn't have friends ever since you started college, but now, you actually felt appritiated. Like you belong.

It started with you meeting Ellie at the diner, then Abby coming to pick both of you up with her truck. The day was spent with you convinving both of them for silly rides you wanted to try. The problem was, that there were usually 2 people fitting seats. You didn't want either of them to feel left out, so you made them sit together, and you sat before them. The whole day felt like a damn comedy.

"Look, churros!" You cheer as you spot a booth with one of your favourite snacks after not really eating anything that day. Ellie, almost throwing up after that last ride, grimaces at the sight, while Abby steps forward, already reaching for her wallet.

"Want me to buy you some?" She asks, standing beside you as she points at one of the flavors. Meanwhile, Ellie suddenly perks up, not wanting to get left behind. "I could get you a slushie to go along with it. Churros here are usually pretty dry." Abby rewards this attemt with a side-eye.

Then a pair of men, holding hands, also approach the booth, smiling to eachother and discussing what they should get. Abby glances their way, seeing their way of holding eachother's hands, and she reaches out slowly, her hand brushing against your's, just when a middle aged man walks by the booth, and sadly opens his mouth. "Fags nowadays. They're everywhere, damn it. There's kids here."

Abby suddenly freezes. Her hand imidiately back in her pocket, and she just stares at her wallet. She feels her feet grow roots into the ground, and suddenly she hears the same phrase in her father's voice. This is a random Saturday, the sun is shining, there are people in love, but it's still...

"Your breath is everywhere too dude. What a stench" Ellie's voice brings her back to reality, and her snaps at the auburn haired woman, fearlessly, glaring at the man.

She didn't know Williams could be...brave? Mmm, not the right word. Proud? Maybe.

Meanwhile, Ellie is fuming. This random ass dude tries to ruin her only chance she has with her crush by ruining the whole mood. She's not having that. She sees the two guys glance at her, and send a smile her way as she flips the middle aged bigot off one last time before he disappears.

She quickly jerks her face back to you, and what she sees it...Abby with tears shimmering in her eyes, and you standing befor her, cupping her face and stroking her arm. It's a horrible sight. Your soft hands don't belong on that burly surfice. Ellie feels like she's left behind.

Meanwhile Abby is panicking. It's over, you saw her cry, she must be the lamest person ever right now. She has embarrased herself before the first girl she has ever liked just because she's a coward, because even the hint of being judged that way scares her to death.

In the end, both women's worst fears somehow came true.

Ellie losing to Abby, while Abby losing to her fears. What a tragedy.

But you? To you, this day was the realest thing you have felt since college started. You have learned that the nerdy art student is fierce, and that the captain of the rugby team can cry. You are attached now, and there's no escape.

Meanwhile Ellie and Abby feel like sinking into the ground with broken hopes, they don't know that you will ask to hang out again pretty soon.

[crappycamille]

a/n: gasp, i actually wrote something. be easy on me okay, i haven’t done this in a while. just some fluffy conjecture tbh, although there is one suggestive line but that’s why all my stuff is 18+, minors dni please… enjoy <3

Bakugou Katsuki had never experienced touch.

Well, that’s not entirely true. He had been touched before: punched and hit by those desperately trying to escape his pursuit, clung to by those fearing for their life, gentle yet encouraging pats on the back from friends, loving but annoying pinches of the ear from his mother. He’s even been pawed at and caressed by lust-filled women that satisfy temporary needs. And even more dangerously, he’s been fondled by the promise of love disguised as lust… But never had Bakugou been touched.

At least until you.

The first time you touched Bakugou is a memory he will never forget. He was bone tired having worked an incredibly grueling month-long mission.

Instead of going home to catch up on much-needed sleep, he immediately went to his office to get the paperwork done. Most people don’t know that a lot of things on the legal side can’t go through until his side of the paperwork is done. Bakugou constantly feels like he’s never fast enough. No matter how fast he can get to the victims. No matter how fast he catches the villain. No matter how fast he gets things done he wasn’t fast enough to prevent the victims from becoming victims in the first place. So, in his mind, the least he could do is get his paperwork done as fast as possible so that those involved can get their justice.

But, of course, the moment the mission is done—before he’s even had a chance to change out of his hero suit—he’s met with nothing but a mountain of news articles and tabloid headlines ridiculing his name. They find joy in villainizing him over the smallest of details.

Most of the time, Bakugou ignores those things. It doesn’t matter to him what others think. They can nitpick whatever they want because despite that he won. He saved the people who needed to be saved. To him, that was all that really mattered… usually.

It must have been his level of exhaustion, but he couldn’t help the way his brows furrowed in disappointment reading the headlines. The words for the public sitting heavier on his chest than normal. His emotions got to him more than normal as he walked down the hallway from his official, finally heading home.

It was late.

Far too late for anyone else to still be there. Yet, he swore he could hear the soft pitter-patter of heels clicking against the floor. As he turned the corner he was met with the sight of you packing up. You hadn’t noticed him yet, so he watched with confusion as scurried around filing documents, turning off computers, and locking doors.

“The hell? Why’re you still here?” He internally cringed as his voice boomed more than he meant it to since you nearly jumped out of your skin upon hearing him.

“Oh Dynamight, Sir! I apologize I meant to be out of here before you noticed I was here.” Exhaustion seeped through your voice, giving you more rasp than normal.

“That’s not what I asked you. The hell’re you still here for?”

“Well…” you scratched your head feeling a bit shy, debating on whether or not to tell him the real reason why you were there. “I stayed to make sure all of the paperwork you submitted just now went through. As head of your legal team, it’s my job to make sure things on the agency’s side are squared away. I understand you like to get things done immediately after a mission, Sir.”

Bakugou was speechless. So many questions riddle through his head he wanted to ask. Had you done this after every mission and he never noticed you? yes When had you noticed that he came in after missions to do paperwork? Why did you care? Instead, he watched wordlessly as you gathered your things.

“You don’t need to do that.” He finally spoke. His tone was unusually soft, nearing sweet if you squinted hard enough. You breathily chuckled. You had been working for Bakugou long enough to know that was his way of saying thank you.

“It’s really no problem, Sir. No reason you have to be the only person in the office so late, especially after working such long missions.” You softly smiled at him. With you being so close, he could see the exhaustion prominent in your own face.

The two of you worked your way out of the building together in silence. Bakugou felt that he had so many things he wanted to say, so many things he wanted to ask, but they all muddled to the back of his mind.

It was only when you guys reached the front lobby exit that he became aware of the incessant buzzing of his phone. Countless mentions, tags, reposts, and message requests were flooding in from every social media app. He could’ve sworn he turned his notifications off a long time ago, but there they were. Those same articles that called him a corrupt hero, a heinous/reckless man, and nitpicked things down to the way he breathed were being sent to him over and over again. A constant reminder that so many people disapprove of him.

He hadn’t noticed how tightly he had been gripping his phone. How clenched his bicep was until he felt a gentle squeeze on his arm. Your hand was small in comparison to his but its presence was overwhelming.

Your thumb subtly rubbed soothing circles on his clenched bicep. “If it’s worth anything, I think you’re incredibly kindhearted. The world is lucky to have a hero like you protecting it. Goodnight, Sir. Get some rest.”

Bakugou thought he was going to melt the second you pulled your hand away. Your words rang loud in his ears, but his skin buzzed even louder at the lingering effects of your touch. He had to stop himself from sobbing in the lobby that night.

There was something oh so special about your touch.

From the first time you ever touched him to the way, you touch him now as his wife. He swears he has to stop himself from sobbing every time. It’s the overwhelming love that pours out of you every time your skin connects with his.

He was so incredibly touch-starved before you came along. Starved from the kind of touch that doesn’t come from platonic relationships. Starved from the touch of someone that didn’t expect to gain something from him in return. Starved from the intimate touch of true love.

He revels in every little touch you grace him with. The way you hold his hand under the dinner table. The way you pinch him lovingly, reminding him of his mother, when he says something out of pocket.The way you squeeze his thigh and rub soothing circles on him when tensions get high in a meeting. The way you nestle your face in his back as he cooks. The way you lightly slap his shoulder as you laugh hysterically. The way you drag your hands along his sides as he lays on you. The way you claw at him desperate to somehow bring him impossibly closer as he thrusts into you.

In all honesty, he still has a hard time fathoming that you are his. That you are in love with him. That you choose to be with him every day. He feels undeserving, but you always definitively object. He believes that you are so much more than anything he could ever be, but that’s exactly how you feel about him.

Your touch is just one of the things he obsesses over you. Because he is just so incredibly in love with you.

[fyodior]

SEVEN POINTS

✓ pairing: professor!gojo x student! afab reader

✓ cw: dubcon - abuse of power (student/teacher), risky places (someone almost walks in), vaginal sex, oral (m & f receiving), fem pet names (good girl, pretty girl), reader referred to as a whore, slight dumbification, gojo is fake and manipulative, reader is eager to mf please

✓ notes: trying to fight my writers block by writing gojo for the first time!! dividers by @benkeibear !

✓ wc: 3.2k

summary: after allegedly failing your midterm exam, your favorite professor gives you seven chances to make it up to him.

Should I even be here? you thought to yourself as you stood pathetically outside the door of your literature professor’s office, hand trembling as It remained only inches from his door. You had frozen mid-knock, scared of the conversation that was to ensue once it opened.

But luckily, you ended up not having to knock. The heavy mahogany door creaked as your professor pulled it open, a goofy grin on his face.

“Hey!” he greeted, waving you into his office. “Come on in.”

You followed him reluctantly inside, sitting politely in the chair across from his desk. In contrast, your professor fell dramatically back into his own chair with a sigh before kicking his feet up on the desk.

“Why’re you lookin’ so sad, kid?” he laughed, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Y-your email…” you attempted to explain, fiddling with the hem of your skirt.

“Oh, that old thing?” he scoffed. “I just have to sound all professional for when the admins inevitably audit me.”

You only nodded slowly, letting out a hesitant laugh. “Right…”

Despite the apparently fake tone, it was an email that had struck fear into your heart.

Hello, it began. Your poor performance on our most recent midterm has me concerned for your overall performance in my course.

Professor Gojo had always been that happy-go-lucky professor that every student loved and fought each other for a space in one of his classes. He was funny, charming, and very attractive, making him very popular amongst the entire student population – not just women. And he had always been very nice to you, even maybe paying a little extra attention to you than the others in the course. Praising you for your immaculately written papers and well-spoken contributions to class discussions was not uncommon, and even had other students scowling in your direction. So, it was nothing short of jarring to receive something like that from him – poor performance?

“I-I can’t believe I failed my midterm, Professor Goj-”

“Call me Satoru,” he interjected, making you jump.

“I’m so sorry I failed my midterm… Satoru.” The name felt foreign and inappropriate on your tongue, but you didn’t want to disappoint him even more.

“ ‘s really no big deal, kid,” he sighed, waving his hand. The sleek wingtip shoes he wore edged closer and closer to knocking off a tall stack of precariously placed papers on his desk. He was kind of a mess sometimes.

“I just- I just really felt confident in it,” you shook your head, mostly talking to yourself. Hours of research, draft making, and revisions went into your midterm paper, to a point where you had actually felt proud to put your name on it, smiling a bit as you finally pressed submit.

“Just… wasn’t what I was looking for,” he shrugged, bringing his feet back down to the ground with a thud. “Though, I wanted to meet to discuss potential ways for you to make up the points. I’d hate for you to get anything less than an A in this course.”

“Really?” you gasped, leaning forward in your chair towards him. “I’ll do anything!”

His expression suddenly darkened at that, gaze boring holes through your skull. No response to your words was given – instead, he stood up from his desk and walked slowly towards the door, hands clasped behind his back. A shiver ran down your spine as you hear the lock click, Satoru turning around to face you again. His entire demeanor had wholly changed, the charming goofiness replaced by a dark, unsettling aura that permeated the room.

“Profe- Satoru? What’s going on?” Surely not…

Leaning against the door, he crossed his arms and ankles. “When you say ‘anything’, kid, do you really mean… anything?”

“I don’t understand…” you replied dumbly, eyes wide.

Satoru only laughed briefly. “You understand well. I know because you’re a smart girl.”

Eyes trailing downward, you noticed a slight tent in his pants that he made no effort to conceal - an undeniable confirmation of his advances. 

It was an objective fact that you needed to ace this class in order to maintain your current perfect academic standing, and a failed midterm made that impossible. If rectifying that meant fucking your sexy professor, then… fuck it.

“When I say anything, I mean anything.”

A sinister grin spread across Satoru’s face as he made his way back towards you. “That’s my good girl.”

Sitting back in his desk chair with an ankle resting on his knee, he stared at you with the hunger of a man starved. 

“There is a points system to this, darling. I am not so easy as to just fuck and give you an A. Any student can do that. But I know you’re special,” he explained, eyes glinting and smirk lingering. “This also allows for us to go as far as you’re comfortable, while also still garnering some extra credit. Would you like for me to continue?”

You gulped. “Sure.” 

“One point, you remove your top and bra - bare breasts must be visible. Two points, I touch your breasts. Three points, you remove your panties… but keep that skirt on, because I’d really like to fuck you in it…” his words trailed off as his steely demeanor broke momentarily, taken over by his own lust.

Now it’s you smiling. “One point,” you repeated as you started to unbutton your top, a lacy bra peeking out. “Three points and my grade will be changed, right… sir?” 

It’s not hard to tell that Satoru is fighting every one of his instincts in order to remain composed. “You didn’t let me finish, sweetheart. You’ll need six points to get to a 100. The three points we already discussed - plus one if you suck my cock, plus another if you let me taste you, reaching a full fix if you let me fuck you.” He says it all so plainly as if it wasn’t the lewdest thing you’d ever heard. “Though, there is a seventh point. If you obtain it, you’ll ace the whole class.”

“...Seventh?” you inquired, a feigned look of innocence on your face as your top fell open. 

Satoru’s eyes darken as he leaned in closer to you over the desk. “The seventh point,” he whispers. “Is letting me cum inside your pretty little cunt.”

You choked, not expecting that to come out of his mouth. But once you committed to something, you always saw it through.

Voice barely above a whisper, you nodded before responding. “Whatever you want, sir.”

Satoru only patted his lap.

Despite the suave, sexy exterior you had decided to don, your whole body shook as you circled around the desk to settle on top of your professor’s lap, straddling his thighs. He didn’t immediately jump at the opportunity as soon as you were in his grasp like you thought he would, instead just running his rough palms all over your skin. Thick fingers came to push off the top that had only been dangling off your elbows at that point, leaving you in only your bra.

“Fucking beautiful,” Satoru muttered to himself, palming one of your breasts. Point two. It was like everything was in slow motion, the way he thumbed at your bottom lip before kissing you roughly, or the way he gripped your thighs tighter and tighter. Until he’d had enough.

You were suddenly pushed back against the cold surface of Professor Gojo’s desk, skirt flipped up and legs spread apart. He leaned in close and pulled your panties off – point three – before running the very tip of his tongue along your slit ever so lightly. He planned to savor every last second, every last taste, lest you never let him do this again. A squeal leaves your throat, overwhelmed by the suddenness of everything, but you clapped a hand over your mouth. Satoru reaches up to circle a hand around your wrist before roughly tugging it away. 

“Now that won’t fly, sweetheart,” he scolded. “A key part of all of this is me hearing you earn those points.”

“But- but sir,” you tried. “They’ll hear us.”

Satoru just smirked. "What, are you worried someone is going to find out you let your professor do this-" He interrupted his own words by shoving two fingers into your cunt, making you cry out and throw your head back against the documents scattered underneath you. "-to you? That someone, maybe a superior, will hear you using your pussy for grades?"

Your back arched at the sudden intrusion, biting down on your knuckles to try and stifle your moans - against his wishes. “Sir, p-please…”

Satoru watched in delight as he pumped his fingers in and out of your all-too-welcoming cunt, marveling at how wet you already were. “Get on your stomach for me, sweetheart.”

Now dripping with anticipation and slight fear, you’re quick to scramble off the desk. With your stomach and face pressed down, you looked back at your professor. This was dangerous, but that’s exactly why it was getting fun.

The world felt like it was spinning when Satoru got to his knees and used his strong hands to spread you open, watching in awe at the way your pussy throbbed in anticipation. He used two fingers to open your folds before dipping his tongue in, groaning at the taste. The savory sweetness coats his tongue and he can’t help but lap it up. 

“Satoru,” you moaned, bucking your hips and pushing further against his tongue as you gripped the edge of the desk. 

His fervent licking and slurping at your clit as he now fucked you on his fingers paired with your moans almost drowned out the footsteps outside the office door. A particularly hearty whimper was cut off by a knock at the door. Your eyes go wide with terror as a man calls out for your professor. It sounds like a grown man - definitely not a student. What would another professor think if they were to witness what was taking place? Would he yell at the man between your legs? Would he leave in shock and report you two immediately? Would he… join in? All of these thoughts swarmed your head at once as you looked at the man in panic.

Satoru seemingly has no interest in neither soothing your worries, nor protecting himself. He recognized the man’s voice as a fellow lecturer he’s friendly with, one who likely wouldn’t be all too shocked or even horrified if he saw Satoru three fingers and a tongue deep into a student – so he continued. Despite your protests and squirms in fear, Satoru continued lapping at your clit and crooking his fingers inside you.

“Professor, m-maybe you should get that,” you breathed desperately, the knocks at the door increasing, but Satoru paid no mind to you or the man at the door. He was far too busy with both finger and tongue fucking you. Suddenly your eyes widened and you couldn’t stop the loud moan that came tumbling out when he found your sweet spot. Immediately you clamp a hand over your mouth, but there’s no chance the outsider didn’t hear you. There was a moment of silence, one where you think you’re a fucking goner, but then you heard footsteps fading away. He gave up - or maybe he just didn’t want to know.

Once Satoru decided he’d had a sufficient taste, he removed his fingers and mouth, making you whine at the emptiness, before pulling you up. He immediately began licking into your mouth instead, coating your tongue with your own essence and making you taste yourself. 

“Are you ready to earn that fifth point?” he hummed against your lips. Sucking him off. 

“Please,” you nodded, gripping him. Truthfully, you barely know what you’re pleading for. It was no longer just about the grade - you felt an ache that was only growing inside you.

Standing up without a word, Satoru deftly unbuckled his belt and cast it to the floor, the metal of the buckle clattering loudly against the tiles. He unzipped his dress pants enough so that his bulge was obvious. 

“Get on your knees,” he commanded, voice steely and certain – this Satoru was completely unrecognizable at this point, so far from the zany, lighthearted Professor Gojo. 

“Y-yes sir,” you sputtered. It was a lewd scene as you kneel in front of your professor, staring up at him with big doe eyes and mouth slightly agape. Hands shaking, your fingers dip below the band of his boxers and curl around his hard-on, tugging it a few times before pulling freeing it from the fabric. He’s big. It curves slightly to the left with a thick, throbbing vein running down it, the head an angry red. You started to pump it, licking your lips as pre dribbled out of the tip. The whole thing was so dirty and demeaning, but fuck, it was hot.

“C’mon, kid,” Satoru urged, a thick hand grabbing a fistful of your hair and tugging lightly. He wanted more than just a handjob. 

Frowning a bit, you gave the head a few kitten licks, sucking on the tip just to make him groan. The pre was salty and sticky, tasting it as it smeared over your lips. Finally, you began to ease him into your mouth, swallowing each thicker and thicker inch. The tip grazed the back of your throat and you gagged, making Satoru smirk. 

If only you could see yourself, see how you knelt in front of your lit professor, grabbing his hips and choking yourself over and over on his thick cock that was shoved down your throat, drool and precum pooling out of the corners of your mouth. See how streaks of mascara stained your cheeks as your eyes watered from gagging so much. If only. 

In an effort not to immediately cum down your throat, Satoru pulled out, tapping his tip against your lips to smear some more of his pre over your lips. The sight itself is cum-worthy, but it’s not time for that yet.

“On the desk, on your stomach. Lift your skirt up,” Satoru barked. 

Once again, you obeyed your professor’s orders without question. Draping yourself over the desk, you tugged your skirt up so that it splayed over your back and not your ass. Satoru inhaled as he watched you present yourself like that, like a damn whore for nothing more than a good grade. You squealed a bit as he took the fat of your ass into his hands and massaged, nervous for what’s to come.

“Professor?” you squeaked. “Am I… doing good?” as much as it might feel good, it’d be all for nothing if you once again weren’t performing to his liking.

“So good, pretty girl, so good,” he growled, smacking your ass.

“Please, sir,” you moaned, arching your back to display yourself as best as possible. 

Satoru was painfully slow with his movements as he took his hard leaky cock into his hand and slid it between your folds, rocking back and forth and prodding at your hole. 

Taking initiative, you pushed your hips back, desperate to get his cock inside you, to do a good job. 

“God, so fucking needy and desperate, absolutely losing yourself over my cock,” he muttered, finally pushing past your hole and easily sinking into your sopping cunt. 

You let out a dangerously loud moan as Satoru filled you up, eyes rolling to the back of your skull.

“Oh, f-fuck,” you stuttered. It was the first time you’d sworn in front of the professor. Until then, even with the circumstances, you still felt it right to be proper and respectful, but something inside of of you was breaking - and all you could focus on was the pleasure and overwhelming need to be fucked. “Fuck, that feels so g-good…”

Everything Satoru’s been waiting for, everything he planned has culminated to this moment, and it almost doesn’t feel real. From actually working up the courage to come onto you, to you actually reciprocating and desperate for him more than he ever thought he would be, it felt like a fever dream. That’s why when he first bottomed out, one hand right on your waist and the other palm flat on the desk, he couldn’t stop. He fucked you like a desperate virgin, grunting and groaning. Satoru typically wasn’t much of a talker during sex, but this felt so different. “Yeah, that feel good baby? My cock making you feel good? Your professor’s cock filling you up so good?”

“Feels so f-fucking good,” you cried out, tongue lulled out as you laid nearly limp on the desk. You were no blushing virgin, but it had been a long fucking time since you’d been fucked that well. “S-shit, I’m gonna cum, shit!”

Satoru let out a short laugh at how quick you were coming undone. Wet squelches and sounds of skin-on-skin bounced off the walls, filling the small office so that all your senses were filled with Satoru and Satoru only. Leaning over you so his chest was pressed flush against your back, he whispered right into your ear: “Cum for me, pretty girl.”

“Y-yes sir,” you whimpered, chewing your bottom lip in an effort to muffle your moans. Fortunately, it didn’t take much longer - in a moment’s notice, the knot was coming undone and you couldn’t help but spasm as your orgasm washed over you, drooling all over where your head laid. “Thank you- thank you, thank you!”

Satoru smirked as you fell apart underneath him, bringing him even closer to his own high. Desperate to reach it, he fucked into you brutally as you laid there like a ragdoll. “Thanking me for what? Fucking you stupid?” he laughed. 

“S-so good,” you babbled mindlessly, brain and body going numb from the stimulation.

You were so far from the articulate, sharp student you normally were, reduced to nothing but a fuck doll by your professor. 

Soon, Satoru felt his cock pulsing and throbbing inside you. “Are you ready for that seventh point?”

Remembering what the seventh point was, ‘cumming inside your pretty little cunt,’ you clenched even tighter around him. 

“Please,” you moaned, slightly slurred. “Need it.”

You’d barely gotten the words out by the time your professor was reaching his high, groaning fiercely as he shot his hot load into you, filling you up while hearty moans from you fill his ears. Once he finally slowly pulls out, hissing as he nudges his cock out of your hole. Without it inside you to plug you up, cum pooled out of your throbbing cunt, hot against your skin as it drooled down your thighs. Not sure what to do or where to go from there, so you stayed draped over the desk, breathless and gripping the edge until Satoru gave you more direction.

But all Professor Gojo did was straighten up, tuck himself back into his pants and button them before securing his belt. “You’ve received full credit. You’re dismissed now.”

What? “S-Satoru?”

He laughed, a little rough with you as he helped you to your feet, still a bit wobbly.

“You’ve aced the class, sweetheart. Counted all the way to seven. Get out of here.” He’s already on to his next task, straightening papers that had gotten crumpled underneath you.

“Profes-”

His smile is so fake. “See you on Wednesday, kid."

[livlaughloveluke]

NSFW ALPHABET WITH LUKE CASTELLAN…

warning! this fic contains- a lot of nsfw headcannons, all varying. soft!dom!luke. afab reader.

18+ mdni !

(also keep submitting your guys nasty thoughts i love reading them lowkey & do you guys want dark luke version?)

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

luke’s all over you after sex, holding you in his arms and asking dozens of questions to make sure you liked it and aren’t hurting. he massages your plump skin, trying to soothe any future soreness and because he likes to touch you in a non-sexual way. unless you want it be, of course.

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

his favorite part of himself would have to be his hands. he loves to make you writhe and squirm on his fingers, curling and pumping them inside your wet heat. it’s also so easy for him to grab and manhandle you as he pleases with the size of them.

as for you, he loves your thighs. he doesn’t care about the size or any scars, he’s just completely obsessed with squeezing the flesh. it could be while he’s sitting next to you at the bonfire or while he’s eating you out, but he is always groping them somehow.

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

at camp half-blood, there’s a low supply of condoms and birth control is only given out for medical reasons, so he’s usually forced to pull out. most of the time he likes to cum in your mouth, and occasionally on your tits. although, there was this one time you let him cum inside, on the promise that he bought some plan b from the dionysus kids, who snuck out into the city every so often and stole a bunch of shit.

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

he likes to be dominated. it started one night when you felt frisky and rode him, whispering praises into his ear while bouncing carelessly. something snapped inside his brain that day, and he developed a new desire to be under your control. but he has a reputation to uphold, so it’s rare he let’s you take charge.

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

he’s definitely not inexperienced. luke’s a good looking guy, so it’s no surprise that he’s had a few girlfriends before you. he grew to be decent in bed, knowing how to get a girl off while still pleasing himself. with that being said, he still had a lot to learn while dating you. there’s no real porn in camp besides some old playboy magazines his brothers stole, so he just had to go off what he heard girls liked.

F = favorite position (this goes without saying)

luke likes to stick with the classic missionary, mainly to see your face and your tits, but also because of his lack of knowledge to other positions. if he’s had a bad day and feeling rough, he’ll try doggy, although it usually ends in him flipping you around and fucking you on your back.

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

typically he’s pretty serious, too busy spewing out mindless praises to crack a stupid joke. every once in a while he’ll softly laugh at something dumb, but that’s mainly him just being pussy drunk and happy at everything.

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

not clean shaved, but well trimmed. he’s got a little bit of a bush, but nothing dramatic or anything that would irritate your skin.

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

he grew up treating women with uttermost respect, and thinks sex is only for real relationships. in other words, he’s not a believer in hook up culture. luke’s only interesting in fucking if there’s strings attached, mainly because there’s a strong chance of him falling in love after getting intimate with someone.

J = jack off (masturbation headcanon)

the hermes cabin is packed, so there’s not a lot of places for him to jack off. if he can’t see you and is really desperate, he’ll do it quietly and quickly in the shower, but overall, he doesn’t feel the need to that often. i mean, why use his own hand if he can use yours?

K = kink (one or more of their kinks)

he’s typically a vanilla person, besides the whole secret sub kink. unless we’re talking about post tlt dark!luke, in which case that’s a whole other story. (would you guys want a different alphabet based on that?) but anyways, he’s got a huge thing for praise. complimenting you helps him get off on it’s own, but when you turn the tables and start telling him how good he’s doing, that’s when he really starts feeling it.

L = location (favorite places to do the do)

basically any private places around, whether that be one of the empty cabins or a secluded spot in the woods. with no other alternatives, he’ll find a way to make anywhere work.

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

literally just you. he’s fascinated with anything you do, even something as simple as brushing your teeth or waking up all disheveled and groggy in the morning. that doesn’t mean he sees everything as sexual, but there’s nothing more of a turn on at night than you.

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

not really into anal, just prefers just good old p in v. if you asked he would be willing to try, but he wouldn’t never suggest it. he knows it can be really painful, and he wouldn’t want to hurt you for his own pleasure. this includes pegging, mainly because it sounds like it would hurt him.

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

he loves loves LOVES giving head. there’s nothing hotter to him than eating you out, and sometimes you have to pull him away because he’s still going after your second orgasm. and he’s so good at it, too. he knows every every spot that makes your moan like the back of his hand.

he’s into receiving head, too. the innocent look you send up while on your knees and kitten licking the tip makes him go fucking insane.

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

like mentioned before, he’s a believer in intimacy. it usually includes slow and hard thrusts and him taking his time with you. although sometimes at the end, he speeds up, eagerly chasing both of your highs.

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

not really big on quickies, but with such a busy schedule, it tends to happen more often than not. again, he’s big on taking it steady, so a quick fuck behind the shed isn’t ideal.

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

if you’re cool with it, he’s most likely cool with it, or at the very least he’ll try. he’s down for some risk, as long as it’s not hurting anyone. sometimes you’ll fuck in semi-public places just for the risk of getting caught, although no where near any kids.

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

he’s good at lasting a while, but not at multiple rounds. if you’re just going straight at it, he could last for a maybe twelve minutes, depending on the situation. but he can also make himself finish quicker if needed. as for rounds, usually it’s just one or two.

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

honestly, i don’t think owns any toys. it’s hard to his hands on get condoms alone, so he can’t even imagine trying to get any sort of toys. (he would find a way if you asked, though) he prefers it plain and simple, just using his body to help you climax.

U = unfair (how much they like to tease)

surprisingly, he’s always down for some teasing. nothing painfully time consuming, but just a minute of running his dick through your folds before sticking it in. although he hates when you tease him, and won’t hesitate to take what he wants if you’re acting up.

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

he groans a little, but in most situations you two are forced to be somewhat quiet. if you’re on top, he’ll occasionally just moan and whimper.

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

he’s gotten off untouched while eating you out before. you were in an empty cabin, eyes rolled back and letting a few hushed moans slip, and he couldn’t stop himself from cumming in his pants as you climaxed.

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

more length than girth, but he’s definitely got something. about 6inches, maybe 7 inches while hard?

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

decent, but not anything crazy. he’ll do as much as you like, or as little. anything to keep you happy.

Z = zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

he’s out almost immediately once he’s checked up on you and cleaned you up. he doesn’t mean too, but how can he help it when your cradled in his arms?

[mythicmanuscripts]

Hello!! I desperately need to know more about the second sub!aegon concept with the dom/sub reader and aegon dynamic. I just know he would be too embarrassed to ask for full submission and aftercare, which leads to him visiting the brothels and having some not-so-good experiences.

I absolutely loved your writing for the first concept and couldn’t resist asking for the second!!

YES ABSOLUTELY WE CAN. It's time to torture Aegon again lads! I hope you're ready! I'd absolutely love to talk about this concept more and also about the first one again too, so if any of you lads have your own ideas about this then let me know!

There is mentions of NSFW themes and also bad BDSM etiquette between Aegon and the brothel workers so I'm gonna hide the rest under the cut.

Aegon's love for following orders is something you discover very often, and it quickly forms part of your sex life too. You realise that not only is Aegon better at making you feel good when he listens, but he actually seems to be happier? He loves when he can just shut his head off and listen to you.

For a while, you would barely see Aegon during the day and then he would crawl into your bed at night. He starts staying longer and longer, ending up curled against your chest afterwards and he wants so bad to tell you to come with him to your shared marriage quarters and spend the night there but he doesn't want to seem too needy.

He also starts spending more time with you during the day too, and you can see how relaxed he becomes when he can just follow your guidance. He starts waiting for instructions, trying to get more from you because he loves how he feels when he's following your orders and is pleasing you.

But, Aegon is a greedy little thing.

I think maybe he always knew that he would prefer to be submissive in the bedroom? But he never told anyone, because he was soon to be king and then he was actually king and he knows people would view him as weak. He doesn't even ask the countless brothel workers he has been with for fear that rumours about the submissive king started to spread.

But then he experiences submission with you? He discovers what it's like to just let his mind shut off and trust someone to take care of him and now that he's gotten a taste, he can't get enough.

He doesn't even consider explicitly asking you to take control more, or asking if he can have more time where he just has to listen to you and worry about nothing else. All he's been told his entire life is how he wasnt good enough, how he was a constant disappointment and he had accepted that he'd never be able to make his family proud of him but he's gotten too used to seeing the pleased smile on your face and he can't even think about the possibility of asking something of you that would make you disappointed in him. He's already so needy and pathetic and he knows it, he can't possibly expect you to be okay with even more neediness.

But, he's starting to really really want more?

I think maybe he even starts to slipping into subspace with you, though of course he doesn't know that's what it is. All he knows is that he's having lunch with you and you're letting him have bites of your food from your own fork and his entire body feels all warm fuzzy. He finds himself wanting to slip onto the floor and kneel at your feet, to feel your hands in his hair and listen to your voice.

He doesn't do that of course, but the longer that this goes on for, the more he's struggling to control himself? To the point where sometimes he has to leave the room because he knows if he doesn't he'll end up begging to be allowed to crawl onto your lap.

That's when he decides to go back to the brothels and ask the women there to dominate him. As much as he doesn't want to be with anyone else, he thinks that things will be fine if he can submit to someone else. He thinks that if he does this, then he won't find himself melting quite as easily when he's alone with you.

Throughout your marriage, you always knew Aegon went to the brothels, and you accepted it. It was an arranged marriage, and as much as you love Aegon far more than expected, he's still the king and if the king wants to go to brothels then he will.

So you never actually thought that Aegon stopped going to the brothels, but at some point during your marriage he did stop because the thought of being with anyone else just felt so wrong. Except now he forces himself to because he needs someone else to dominate him.

The brothel workers are more than happy to do it of course, but they can't fake the love and care you give him, in fact he doesn't even ask for it. The workers hear he wants to submit and they immediately use pain and humiliation.

Aegon thinks this will give him what he needs, but the truth is that it couldnt be worse. It hurts so much, and none of them offer him any comfort. He cries and begs and tries to be good but they always respond with degradation and humiliation. When it's over they leave him all alone to recover, his ass and thighs bright red and tears streaming down his face. He curls up on the bed in the brothel and wishes he never walked in, wishes he was with you.

But despite all that pain, he is able to fair better with you the day after that? He doesn't feel the tug of subspace, and he's able to try and be a bit more independent. So, he thinks it's working.

He returns to the brothel a few days later and this is where things go horribly wrong. He had had dinner with you, and you had poured his wine for him and offered him advice. The dinner was lovely, and then at the end of it, you tell him that you're going to go read before bed and he's welcome to come listen to you read aloud if he would like. The thought alone makes him feel all warm and fuzzy and he would absolutely love to join, but he knows if he does that then there's absolutely no way he'd be able to make himself leave your bed.

So he declines the offer and then goes to the brothel, hoping that he’ll be able to get over his desire to fall to his knees in front of you if he can do it for a brothel worker.

From the moment he walks in he knows he’s made a mistake. His brain can’t seem to accept that you aren’t there, that he isn’t still eating dinner with you and following your lead. He finds himself feeling lost and confused, looking around for you.

The brothel workers spot him of course, and by now they know what he wants. So he goes with two of them and they dom him, but again they use pain and humiliation and he feels awful. He cries and begs them to help, to tell him he’s doing alright, to let him cuddle them for a moment, and of course they deny him every time. They think he’s getting off on the cruelty, but he isn’t, of course he isn’t.

Aegon doesn’t even really enjoy this at the best of times, but doing it when he was already feeling his guards lower from being around you? It’s a recipe for a disaster.

The workers leave him a sobbing pile on the floor, and once they leave he frantically puts his clothes on and runs as fast as he can back to the keep. He doesn’t even think about where he’s going, he just knows he feels worse then he ever has before, he feels like he completely failed you and then couldn’t even be good for the sex workers he went to.

Before he knows it, he’s frantically knocking the door to your private quarters. He doesn’t consciously plan on going to you, but he’s just feeling so lost and scared and unsettled that his brain won’t entertain any other option.

You open your door to see your husband with tears down his cheeks. He’s begging for forgiveness before you can even move aside to let him in.

You try to find out what’s happened, but he’s much too worked up for that and so instead you take control. You take him to your bed and manhandle him onto your lap, rubbing soothing circles on his back as he slowly calms down.

When he does eventually say what he did, he’s so convinced that you’ll kick him out of your bed. But instead you… you tell him he did good?

Aegon looks up at you in confusion, not understanding how he could possibly have been good. You explain to him that when he felt terrible in the brothel, when he realised he couldn’t do it anymore, he came to you. He knew you’d help him and he went to you and let you take care of him.

After that he promptly starts sobbing again and you have to gently guide him to take slow deep breaths until he’s able to form sentences again.

When you realise he went to the brothel not for just standard sex, but to submit, you’re hurt. The sex is one thing, but kneeling at their feet is another.

You ask him why he did it, and that’s when you finally hear how badly he needed to submit and he didn’t want you to know. L

In response to that you just pull him closer and the top of his head.

“You’re mine,” you tell him, whispering the words into his hair, “I take care of you, no one else.”

Hearing that makes him cry again, it it’s happy tears this time

[hotvintagepoll]

LAST POLL OF ROUND 6

Propaganda

Ingrid Bergman (Gaslight, Casablanca, Notorious)—A lot of the time hotness in a movie is just about words and framing. "You're the most beautiful person here" [vaseline lens] well I sure hope so because that's who you cast. But when, in Casablanca, they call Ingrid Bergman the most beautiful woman in the world... they were not fucking lying. And such a dynamite actor too!! I'd only seen Casablanca up until last year, and there she's confined to love interest. But in Gaslight she was maybe one of the most incredible actors I've ever seen!!!! Goddddd shes so fucking hot and cool.

Lauren Bacall (To Have and Have Not, The Big Sleep, Key Largo)—"Just put your lips together...and blow" excuse me ma'am i'm briefly going to turn into a kettle. She's the quintessential Femme Fatale who may betray me in the end but I'd let her it'd be worth it

This is round 6 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Ingrid Bergman:

God, she's fantastic. She's both beautiful and a compelling actor who's more than capable of putting the whole movie on her shoulders if necessary. It's worth noting that while her beauty is conventional, she was seen as refreshingly "natural" with more eyebrows and less makeup than many other leading ladies of the time. She's well known for her role in Casablanca, but in Notorious, Spellbound, (both available on archive.org ) and Gaslight (1944) she shows how immensely capable she is.

I mean...she's Ingrid Bergman. I feel like that should be enough, you know? She's physically beautiful (her eyes!) but watching her is like a transcendent experience. Her voice, her expressions... beautiful woman, beautiful actor.

I'm a gay man but even I understand her appeal. I'll watch any movie she shows up in. Gorgeous woman.

Just try and watch her movies without sighing wistfully, then get back to me!

Choosing 1-3 movies where Bergman was at her hottest was agony because, of course, she was always at her hottest. Not just because she was beautiful but because she was absolutely willing to go up against the bs women in Hollywood were constantly dealing with. When exiled from Hollywood for having an affair with Roberto Rossellini, not only did she refuse to apologize at any point, but she went on to say that Hollywood's films had grown stagnant and boring to her. Though she said she appreciated her time working there, she wanted to try new, different techniques (hence starring in Italian neorealist films, working on stage, and acting under directors like Ingmar Bergman). She was not afraid to chase after her artistic ideals and go outside the box regardless of what society had to say about it. From her first movie to her last she killed it. There's so much more to say about Bergman's career and life, but I've already written five million words so I'll stop at that.

One of the most incredible actors I've ever seen on film. Her facial expressions are so intricate and poignant that I cannot look away. I'm either ace or straight, but damn she made me question that.

SEVEN TIME OSCAR NOMINEE QUEEN. Girl also PULLED, having affairs with famously hot men Gary Cooper and Gregory Peck IN ADDITION to her three marriages...sexy

She has a very natural beauty to her, and she's from Sweden!

She left Hollywood and only became more beautiful. You could drown in her eyes. She can look innocent AND like she's seen it all. She is effortlessly elegant. She's played Joan of Arc (automatically hot) AND was in the movie that coined gaslight as a term. And where would we be without that!

She was known for being a breath of fresh air on the movie scene at the time with her windswept hair, dreamy smile and soulful eyes. I have loved her in every movie I have seen her in - she was just magnetic!

Where do I even start. There's a neighborly quality to this beautiful, talented actress that makes her hotness one of a kind and her looks impossible to forget

With a career spanning five decades, Bergman is often regarded as one of the most influential screen figures in cinematic history. Known for her naturally luminous beauty, Bergman spoke five languages – Swedish, English, German, Italian and French – and acted in each.

She's hot, don't get me wrong, but I've always found her very approachable, like she could easily be a member of my friend group

Where do I even begin with Ingrid Bergman? I fell in love with her with her astounding performance in the 1956 version of Anastasia -- the best Anastasia movie in large part due to her wonderful and touching performance. She's got this amazing, fascinating intensity to her in whatever role she's in. She commits 100%, and she's got this light in whatever she's in that's stunning. She's utterly convincing no matter what she plays, from an amnesiac possible lost princess, from a nun, from a woman taking her revenge on the town that wronged her, to light romantic comedy. She's never missed in any role I've seen her in! Also she became quite the MILF.

Lauren Bacall:

"She is soooo neat. And hot. And everything. That one scene in To Have and Have Not where she says "you know how to whistle don't you? You just put your lips together and blow" altered my brain chemistry during media archaeology class and here we are."

"The VOICE, the SLINK, the EYES. Woof."

"Lauren Bacall was a major lesbian awakening for me. Every picture of her makes it look like she’s about to destroy you physically and emotionally (why is that so hot, I may need help). She had incredible long running chemistry with her husband, Humphrey Bogart, but was an absolute star in her own right. I’ll never be over my crush on her."

"She's got that confident, no-nonsense air about her. She's a boss babe who knows what she wants and gets it DONE. Staunch liberal Democrat her whole life. Campaigned for RFK. From Wikipedia: "In a 2005 interview with Larry King, Bacall described herself as "anti-Republican... A liberal. The L-word". She added that "being a liberal is the best thing on Earth you can be. You are welcoming to everyone when you're a liberal. You do not have a small mind."" Beautiful hair. Beautiful eyes. Beautiful lips. She's just beauty. LISTEN TO HER VOICE. TELL ME THAT'S NOT THE STUFF THAT DREAMS ARE MADE OF."

[curiositysavesthecat]

Trigger warning: mention of torture, abuse, violence, rape

McKamey Manor is a famous, most controversial haunted house attraction in which every participant has to sign a 40-page-long waiver stating that the owner, Russ Alan McKamey, will take no responsibility should the participants were to be severely injured (or even dead) as a result of what goes on during the tour; as it's known to be the "most extreme" haunted house attraction in the world — according to those who had participated in it, participants were often tortured for hours; some of them were (almost) drowned from having their heads shoved under the water and held under, some were dragged through concrete as they were chained to a truck, some were waterboarded, some were forced to eat things such as bugs, some were put inside a cage with spiders and other insects, some (mostly women) got their heads shaved as a form of dehumanization, and the list went on and on. Thus it's said to be a "torture chamber" instead of a "haunted house." Safe words were also said to often be ignored. And participants often left the tour with cuts, bruises, or even broken bones. Some needed to be hospitalized. As of now, no one has yet to "stay until the end of the tour" and win the $20,000 prize ever since its opening back in 2017.

Moreover, its owner, Russ McKamey, has recently been arrested and charged with attempted murder and rape. His ex girlfriends have claimed that he tried to kill them and was extremely violent and abusive towards them. During the event of his arrest, he's allegedly choked his girlfriend to the point of unconsciousness twice during domestic altercations, and he's also allegedly raped her.

You can google more information about it if you want (YouTube is a good go-to place), as there's no way for us to cover everything in one single post. We'd also like to clarify that everything we've listed here is simple what former participants and those who were in Russ's life claimed to have happened to them. So we encourage you to do your own research if you'd like to know more about it.

This poll was submitted to us and we simply posted it so people could vote and discuss their opinions on the matter. If you’d like for us to ask the internet a question for you, feel free to drop the poll of your choice in our inbox and we’ll post them anonymously (for more info, please check our pinned post).

[bunnys-kisses]

Hi bunny, sorry this is such a long ask, but you’re writing is so yummy I had to see this play out… can i get a mille-feuille, sausage roll, pithivier, s’mores, mint julep, whiskey, and dark roast coffee served by charles or max, you can chose which one:)

bakery menu!!

want to submit your own order? then hit up the menu! thank you to all the submissions for the bakery! i love them all and i am going through all of them slowly, haha. i love writing these so keep 'em coming!! thank you! a few things were changed regarding pronouns

mille-feuille (“that’s it, fuck, that’s a good girl.”) + sausage roll ("i wonder how much i could get for photos of this cunt.") + pithivier ("if you don't behave, i'll let the boys take care of you.") + s'more ("The accent gets to you, doesn't it?") + mint julep (punishments) + whiskey (degrading language) + dark roast coffee (sub!character) served by charles leclerc (formula one)!!

cw: smut/pwp, dirty talk/degrading language, sub!charles, punishments, motor mouth charles, bondage, implied oral sex, cowgirl position

charles could be bound to your bed, but as long as his mouth wasn't gagged. he would be a good submissive and make sure that his mouth ran until you finished. you loved that, his dirty talk. it drove you crazy, crazy enough that you'd bind him to the bed and take a ride on his cock to fill that sexual itch you had all day.

you panted with your hands on his shoulders, "if you don't behave, i'll let the others take care of you." an empty threat. as if there were others. charles just chuckled and gave you that winning smile.

"The accent gets to you, doesn't it?"

in a traditional sense, you were the dominant one and charles was more of the submissive type. he aimed to please in the bedroom, it was a reason why he was always a favourite with the women of monaco. but while he enjoyed his time with them, he fell nicely into your arms.

it was evident that you were more of the one to take charge in the relationship. like when the press caught a photo of you feeding your darling charles strawberries while you were out. or another time when you had your hand on his lower back as you stayed close to him. even though he was a big taller than you, you were still protective of the angel you called a boyfriend.

"such a good boy." you panted as you rested yourself up onto his chest. mindful of the weight on it. you had spent the last ten minutes with your hand in your boyfriend's dark hair while you rubbed your achy cunt up against his face. he was bound to the bed, seated upright with his hands behind his back. enough pillows to cushion them from the headboard.

he tilted his head back and nodded a little, "oui, madame." he panted before he looked at you. those green eyes hazy from the intense lust, "je veux plus. i want more." he swallowed, his chin and lips were covered in your wetness. the angle he orally pleasured you was odd, but he devoured you like a hungry man.

you got down to his waist and easily sank yourself onto his cock. he yanked against the binds a little bit. you were giving him exactly what he asked for and he could feel the buzz of pleasure in his brain as you wiped his face with your hand before you pulled him in for a hot kiss. he groaned against your lips as you continued to rock your hips against him.

"that’s it, fuck, that’s a good boy.” you said when you pulled away and continued to hold onto his strong shoulders. you moaned loudly against him. you could feel the heat through your body as you two moved together.

"always for you." he said, "anything for you. why don't you take this ropes off of me and let me show you how to fuck properly. i know you want it, my love. to feel me much deeper." he could feel the rush of pleasure through his body.

he knew this was a punishment.

"i don't think so, my love." you replied as you continued to ride him. your short nails dug into his shoulders as you moved against him, "you know what you did wrong. we have rules remember?"

he moaned when you kissed him once more. he felt excited and hot all over. he was always expected to be the big strong dominant one in the relationship. and while he could easily dominate on the track. it was nice for the bedroom to be under you so pretty. to let you work his cock and leave him in a state of heightened bliss. he groaned a little louder when you broke the kiss and started to move your hips faster.

he moaned then said, "i wonder how much i could get for photos of this cunt." he said with lust in his voice, "get a lot of photos of it while you rode me." he chuckled a little bit, "you like how it all feels, you around me. you are so good to me, mon cherie." then shuddered when your pace slowed down by the thrusts got longer. the strength of them pulled words out of charles' mouth.

you made out with him sloppily as you continued to move. allowing your lover to be placid under you. you came first, your lips against his. when you finally broke the kiss after you hit your peak, you saw the redness around his soft lips. you continued to move and he continued to run his mouth.

the throb in his head was strong, the want in his body made him tense up. he shuddered at the feeling of you, you felt well beyond a dream. "you're pretty like this, madame. you take me so well. i love you, i want you. you treat me so well." he groaned a little bit as he yanked at his constraints a little more. he felt the urge to orgasm down to his bones and he knew he'd finish in you soon enough, "you complete me. you make me dirty like an animal who needs you. give it all to me." he said between hearty pants, his toned chest rose and fell with heavy breaths.

he was only able to climax when you pulled him in for another hot kiss. then he arched his back a little bit. he always looked so beautiful when he climaxed. the type of beauty that struck you to your core. you managed to make yourself climax one more time before you slowed your pace to a stop.

you held his face in your hands, he rested all the weight in his head against you and looked in a state of heightened bliss. he groaned when you got off his cock and kissed his forehead. his brain was running hot and he yearned for his madame's sweet touch.

"you're going to be a good boy for me now? no more being a jealous submissive and telling your teammates how good i fuck you. i don't need the entire world to know how much of a good boy you are for me."

he gave you that charming smile and said, "mon amor." he chuckled, "i want them all to be jealous over how good we are for each other." and while you couldn't argue too much with that. as you undid the ropes, it was about the principle of the matter.

you didn't want everyone to know how much of a slut charles was <3

[liliewrites]

"MY DEVOTION"

a/n : helloooo thereee lovely readers of minee:)) here's the pt 2 of my worship series featuring raiden ei!! also, to the ppl who submitted asks, i think i'll be uploading them laterrr or tomorroww:)) i've been kind'of busy for the past few days due to school stuff, but i promise they'll be uploaded real soon!! thanks to Haddy my editor for proofreading & editing

-warning/s ; somewhat religious motifs(?), NSFW, cunnilingus (r!receiving), biting. -pairings/s ; raiden ei x fem!reader - where in; these three women worship you, their lover, when hundreds and thousands, even millions of followers would drop on their knees to ask for blessings, for mercy, for prayers - and yet for you, at your beck and call, they would do anything you ask as they kneel for you at the same time , as proof of their devotion to you.

(men and minors please dni utc!)

”あなた..”

The Archon whispers against your skin, hands trailing down your back and untying the obi of your yukata with one delicate motion. The way she holds you, the way she calls your name so softly, is in stark contrast to how the Archon usually is when in front of her followers. Stoic and apathetic when faced, heartless and without mercy when angered. 

”My beloved wife..”

She whispers once more, tugging on the sleeves of your yukata, revealing your bare shoulders. Acting on feral instinct, Ei immediately bites down on your shoulder, causing you to whimper as you grip on the god’s skin. If it were anyone else who dares to inflict even the tiniest little scratch on her skin, they will be stricken with Inazuma’s unforgiving lightning, followed by a clap of loud thunder, a clear sign that they had just committed a grave sin for even touching the shogun. 

But right now, in this moment, only loud groans that have erupted from the Archon’s lips can be heard when your nails buried themselves into her skin. Ei pulls away, and you are looking at eyes filled with devotion, as if you are the god here and not her, she stares at you lovingly as she gives you a few minutes of respite. She smiles a little at you, before leaning in to kiss your shoulder, akin to an apology for biting down on your shoulder. “My beautiful wife..” she murmured, for a while, you thought that she has return to handling you with a more benign manner, yet to your surprise, strong, firm arms wrapped themselves around your shoulder, lifting you up from the futon and onto the shogun’s lap.

It is now that you realize you have make a mistake. The momentary gentleness she has shown you is never an apology for biting you, but a prelude to what she has in mind for tonight. Ei pushes you down onto the futon once more, causing you to let out a yelp and starts to nip at your skin. Small, little bites before has change into her teeth sinking into your flesh. It is the shogun’s trademark to mark things that belongs to her, especially evident in the beings that she has created where they bear the shogun’s symbol on their neck. But in this case, it is a mutual relationship with you belonging to her and her to you. So as she bites and marks the flesh of your neck and chest, you in return scratch and sinks your nails into her back, marking her back. Moans freely come out of you with groans coming out of her. It is a symphony of mixed, pleasured cries and noises to both you and Ei’s ears. The sounds that you both emit are the most beautiful you have both heard. More so than any prayer or song offered to Ei by her followers. 

Her lips meets your wet folds and with one delicate motion, she lifts your hips up pulling you in towards her. Her tongue starts flicking against your clit, as if she is whispering a sweet prayer to it, before moving on to lap up your juices as if she is starved for water. After all, the sweet juices that drips from you is Inazuma’s best delicacy that can only be offered by her beloved wife. To her, she is more than blessed to be able to taste this delicacy provided by you

To show you her gratitude for granting her such an opportunity is her utmost priority with the beautiful sounds you have been letting out proving that she is inching closer and closer to her goal.

”E-Ei! why.. did you..”

And yet, she drops you for a moment, goes onto her knees and lowers her face close to your soaked pussy. She breathes in your musky scent, gripping onto your thighs as she forcefully spreads it open. “Forgive me, my love, but I wish to savor your taste for much longer..” she mumbles, her warm breath brushing against your clit. She then presses light kisses across the sensitive area, making you mewl and whine at your increasing need for even more stimulation. Feeling your need rising higher and higher, you grip on Ei’s hair making it clear to the archon that you want more, making her feel impatient as well. Feeling annoyed at you for not letting her savor you in peace, she immediately dives right back into you without warning, making you let out a loud whiny moan that sounds so fucking pleasurable to Ei’s ears. It is loud and she hates loud noises, but the sounds you let out is like an aphrodisiac stimulating her ever further, sounding so much more better than the thunders that come from Inazuma’s skies. Licking you, tasting you, driving her tongue in places that makes you shiver and tremble, she holds you down with a firm hand as you squirm in her hold. 

The night is far too young, and the god has intentions to keep worshiping you with her tongue until the sun rises for the next day. So hold out a bit more longer for her, will you?

a/n : hallooo!!:)) ”あなた..” means "anata" which is an endearment japanese couples use, kind'of like saying "my/mine" hihi

[arting-block]

𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐢 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 | 11th Doctor x F!Reader

❝𝘪 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘵𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘳𝘦.❞

Summary: The Doctor doesn't need sex, just you

Warnings: Grinding, P in V sex, hints of sub!Doctor

Words: 1K

A/N: HAHAHA I'm back!! I had this scenario rotting in my brain and I needed to get it out. This does take place in Stranger in a Strange Land, but this fic can be read as a stand-alone!

The Doctor has no need for romance. Eons spent traveling the cosmos trying to save everyone from destruction leaves little room for trivial things. His need for sex is even lower. 

“Please,” a breathy whine, a slight gasp. The Doctor’s hands gripped the cloth of the bedsheets in hopes he could gain control of his erratic heaving. Everything’s too hot, too much. Despite the tops of his shirt being undone and his jacket laying on the floor, his bodily temperature keeps rising, “There’s people in the other room—”

His voice ended with a pitched cry as your fingers went to the zipper of his pants. Light pressure from your fingers sent his mind into a frenzy. A mix of cold dread and pure excitement pools in his chest all the way down. The Doctor could easily stop your hands. One word and you would step back. 

Sex isn’t important, he doesn’t crave it. Plenty of beautiful men and women have thrown themselves at his feet and he spared them no glance. From powerful queens to cheeky immortals. Hell, even his own companions have tried and ultimately failed to garner any carnal desire from him. 

The Doctor tightened his hold on the bed when you moved to hover above his lap. Your perfume invades his nose and your hand cups his burning face. He couldn’t help but stare helplessly at your face. Your beautiful, terrifying face. 

“Yet you don’t want me to stop,” it was a casual statement. No tremors or wavers in your voice; it was the truth. You place the palm of your hand on his flushed chest, sliding up and around the back of his neck, “I can taste your desire.”

He curses your ability to understand his body. How your hands ignite a path of fire wherever they caress. How your searing kiss to the tender spot on his neck makes him emit pathetic noise at the back of throat. How you press your clothed core on his lap and he jumps. His hands find the curve of your waist, pushing downwards for any relief to your cruel torture. He hates how your breathy laugh makes his pants tighter. 

“Please,” another whine.

Your smile shows no mercy, “Please what, Doctor?”

The way his name slips out of your mouth with a hint of cruelty, a dash of need, sends him in a spiral. You hands busy themselves with unbuttoning the rest of his shirt, making sure to trail your hands down his chest to his pelvis. The palms of your hands are cool against his flushed skin. He feels everything from the drumming of his two hearts to the slick accumulating on top of his pants. 

The Doctor doesn't need sex.

“I need you, love. Please—” your hips ground on him once more, nearly jumbling his speech “ —fuck me.”

Who were you to deny your beloved Doctor?

Grabbing his flushed face, you preoccupied his senses with the taste of your lips. The Doctor melted into you, eagerly meeting your kiss with equal vigor. His mind was close to blanking, something he never thought possible. It seemed the longer you indulged him the more dopamine seemed to numb his consciousness. 

You tangle into him until there’s no distinction from your body to his. Every gasp he emits makes you shiver. Every moan you slip makes The Doctor want to flip you over and show you how cruel you’ve been.

Pulling back, you take a look at The Doctor’s disheveled appearance. Pride swells in your chest seeing the almighty Doctor submit to your whims with just a kiss. The air tastes of his need and your spine tingles from The Doctor’s unspoken trust in you. A silent prayer; trust that you will alleviate the ache in his chest and underneath your lap. 

Sex was never something he needed. He can live without the intimacy of another. He’s done it for centuries so why not a century longer?

“Doctor,” your eyes close and brows furrow. The sound of your whine permeates the fog of his mind and zero in on the bliss on your face. 

The tension in your face relaxes and you allow yourself to give into the pleasure. The Doctor can't help but marvel at your expression. 

He can’t go a century longer. Not after meeting you—fucking you until neither of you can choke a sentence. The moment you allowed him to bury himself between your thighs, he knew sex wasn't something he craved. Sex in itself wasn't what he wanted.

No, what he wanted—needed—was you. How could he not? His body craves the love you pour into each drag of your finger. Your lingering kiss on his jaw that tingles for seconds after. A cheeky grin and a promise sealed with a wink. 

The sight of your undoing, all because of him is what he wants. Tossing your head back, screaming his name until you finally stop trembling. How you cling onto him like he’s the only solid thing in the world. 

Selfishly, he only wants your pleasure and nothing else. 

“I love this,” a hushed confession; a bright smile on your face, “I love you.”

Your words send fire into his blood. No matter how many times that phrase has been uttered, it still makes his two hearts stop. 

Air hits The Doctor’s length and you are delighted in the hiss he lets out. You move your soaked underwear to the side and allow The Doctor to buck his hips up. The head of his cock nudges your entrance and you have to bite down a groan.

“How do you want it, hm?” you dip close to his ear to ensure he never misses a word. Lining up his length towards your center, you delight in his stuttered breathing, “Slow and gentle?”

You dropped your hips downward and watched as The Doctor’s head tilted back, baring his throat to you. Your cunt stretches to accommodate the intrusion, but the pleasure it brings lights the fire in your stomach. Reaching for the back of The Doctor’s head, you force his head up.

Wild green eyes stare back at you. You imagined your expression is no different. 

“Or do you prefer I fuck you instead?”