#wow baby's first time experiencing sub space

[ghouljams]

reading the fae au has my daddy issues REELING-

i dunno do i want to be held and comforted by one of them or fucked dumb😭🙏

could you maybe do some like paternal/father figurey stuff with any fae boy you want… cant prove the stereotype daddy issues right guys please im more than wanting old me to make me worse…

As previously stated I asked my friend for help writing the original fae!Price post. Gave me the main pointers on how it all worked.

Do you want more actual dad stuff with Ghost and baby? Or is this just wanting older men to be nice to you?

I'm just gonna have Price run some aftercare on his Witch.

You're still a little floaty, still fuzzy at the edges from having your own magic turned against you. You hear Price opening a window to let the smoke out, and you feel sort of cold without him holding onto you. Your whole body aches like you just finished working an overly complicated spell. You turn your head to rub your cheek against the couch, the worn fabric just rough enough against your skin to start to ground you back in your body.

You've done this enough times. Grounding. You stretch your fingers out and- oh, hm. Your hands are still tied behind your back. That explains the ache in your shoulders. Right. Right, you remember. You were bad at following orders, so Price had to- Why does that thought make your heart hurt a little. A small noise escapes you, somewhere between upset and need.

Price is by you in an instant, crouching to be sure he can look in your eyes as he slips his hand under your cheek to hold your face. "You're alright sweetheart," He tells you softly, "we're done, you did good."

You roll your shoulders wordlessly, your throat hurts, he nods and pushes up to reach over you and untie your wrists. You sag with a sigh feeling the pressure around your wrists disappear. Price reappears, looking over your face, checking for signs of distress. The gentle touches are so far flung from the bruising grip he'd had on you not long ago.

"You ok to sit up?" He asks, and you nod, "Good girl, up we go." Price helps you ease into sitting, his hand pressing between your shoulders to take some of the weight from the movement. Your head spins a little, and you make another upset noise at the pain of it. "I know, sugar, I know." His arm slides under your knees, the other wrapping around your shoulders.

You haven't been lifted in years, but your brain is a little sluggish in processing the soft grunt from Price before you're no longer on the couch. You rest your head against his shoulder, ground yourself a little in his scent. Or you try to, but the lingering tobacco and morning glory give you another shot of the brain fuzzies.

You drift for a while, settled at some point on the edge of your tub. The rush of water and smell of sachet herbs doing little to pull you back to earth until you are actually submerged. Magic sloughs off of you as you sink under the warm water. You hold your breath and stare up at Price through the refraction.

When you pull yourself back up to oxygen you feel like you're in your body again. At least magically. Price's hands catch your shoulders before you can tip forward back into the water. "Easy sweetheart," He tells you, his hands are rough and calloused, another feeling to ground with. You take a deep breath, trying to pull yourself from the non-magical portion of this. The soft dreamy space you'd settled in, the need to please him with little care to your own needs. "Not in a rush," Price presses your shoulders back against the end of the tub, "Just breathe, I'm not going anywhere," You close your eyes, rest your cotton stuffed head against the edge of the tub, "You did so good, I'm so proud of you."

You don't really know why he's telling you that, but it helps. Makes your ribs unwind a little. He pulls one of your hands from the water and digs his fingers into your palm, dragging and rubbing the ache from your hand before moving up to your wrist. Price pulls the pain out of your limbs as easily as he pulled the thoughts from your head, whispering soft sweet things to you until you're starting to doze.

"All mine," He murmurs, pressing his lips against the pulse in your wrist. You hum assent. All his.

[calibabii21]

|| i never thought || l.hc

pairing: sub!haechan x dom!reader

genre: smut, non-idol au, friends to lovers, Christmas bet

warning(s): bratty sub!haechan, reader learns she has a dominant side, reader is kind of a sadist, both haechan and reader are masochists, overstimulation (m), dirty talk, sexual threats and innuendos, haechan may let "mommy" slip..several times, bdsm club

wc: 2.7k

a/n: suuuuch an honor to be a part of this collab with @jenoslutie this is for you boo💋. thank you so much for your patience and I hope you all enjoy😭 proofread?? not sure💀 mdni

"Come on pleeeease," yet again your friend was begging for the impossible. "That's not even the type of person I am! Not to mention I have to go shopping for Re- my Secret Santa.” Thankfully you caught yourself, “Besides, what could you possibly gain from this?" Funnily enough, that's all it took to quiet him. "N-Nothing," his flustered stutter and sheepish eye contact avoidance were a dead giveaway.

You couldn't help but give in to the cuteness, "Fine. but only if you don't leave my side" His eyes immediately brighten and he's on you with cheek kisses, "thank you thank you thank you– I would never abandon you at a place like that." His seriousness is endearing and you very much appreciate the sincerity in his tone. “Thank you Pookie.”

A twinkle flashes through his eyes at the pet name but he only smiles at you and agrees to give you time to get dressed seeing as he asked you to accompany him on such short notice.

About 45 minutes later you’re walking through the front entrance of the club he begged you to accompany him to. You look around the packed out place, taking in the world of kink you are freshly experiencing first-hand. “Wow.” Haechan turns to you, securing a rose gold wrist cuff, matching his, around your own. 

“What is this for?” He gives you a sheepish look, seeming rather nervous now that you study his expression. “Hey, what’s wrong Pookie?” His tense stature relaxes and he allows himself to melt into your palm resting on his cheek. “Well aren’t you two a lovely pair,” someone comments as they pass by, “You’ve got a good, old-fashioned brat on your hands.” You understand the terms, and the bashful look on Haechan’s face stirs something in you.

A smirk finds its way to your lips, “You think so?” your eyes stay trained on Hyuck’s face as you speak, “But he’s always so good for me. And he treats me so well, don’t you baby boy?” The fake pout with a doe-like gaze you give him as you stroke his chin causes a submissive glaze to film over his eyes and a yearning whimper to leave him. 

When you turn your back to him, he unconsciously moves his body into your space, “If you’ll excuse us, we’d like to get to the rest of our evening.” Haechan attaches a hand to your hip, guiding you away as you smile at the stranger. “You’re..handling yourself better than I expected.” His tone is full of satisfaction and pride, which in turn makes you roll your shoulders back and walk in pure confidence- naturally boosting his ego.

“You make it so easy Pookie.” His returning blush as you playfully pinch his butt makes you giggle. “You’re being awfully cute..” And quiet. Despite his unfamiliar behavior, you allow him to continue leading the way. 

The chains and leather oddly complement the various Christmas themed rooms you pass. Maybe not something you’d have done yourself, but it works. Haechan squeezes your hand to get your attention, “We’re here.” You look up with a soft gasp and wide eyes, “Oh.” Definitely not something you were prepped for.

Here was a platform stage with a submissive straddling a metal chair. Arms bound to the top of the arch, ankles to the legs, nipples flush against the back- and cock between the bars. Seeing as you have goosebumps from simply walking through the establishment, you can only imagine how cold the half naked sub must be. Though their shivers could just be from the anticipation of their dom circling them.

Your eyes drift over to Haechan when his breath hitches as the submissive’s eyes are covered with a sleek blindfold. His responses are intriguingly physical. He isn’t the one being touched or tied up, yet his breathing is shaky and he’s sweating a bit. If you’re honest, it even has you heating up yourself. 

The moment the dom ghosts their fingers over the sub’s semi erect cock is when you decide to maneuver behind Haechan. Your hands lightly reston his waist causing him to jump, startled. “It’s okay, it’s just me.” “Hyuck..I want you to keep your eyes on the stage, okay?” Your voice is soft as it reaches the back of his ear, “Just, stop me if you feel uncomfortable.” He immediately nods- almost in an eager manner.

A shocked yelp leaves the sub, quickly followed by a moan as they feel the contradicting warmth of their top’s breath on their chilled nipples. “Are you sensitive here too, Baby Boy?” It’s a rhetorical question but his whimpers as you brush your thumbs over his nipples through his shirt is answer enough. “Oh, you’re a vocal little thing aren’t you, Pookie?” 

You continue toying with his nipples as your right hand drifts down his front, a sound of approval leaving you, “Sensitive too.” The subs loud moans drown out the whimpers and whines Haechan releases as you fondle him through his clothes. “Please.” His pleading simultaneous with the ones coming from the stage. “What are you asking for?”

He says nothing, enraptured by the scene of the sub’s painfully hard cock being edged between the cold, hard bar of the chair and the domme’s warm, soft palm. Pinching his nipple you get a louder moan as well as his attention, “If you can’t tell me what you want, I can’t give it to you.” He only whines, his knees becoming wobbly, “Please, touch me p-properly.”

You take your hands off of him and put space between you, “If you can find a private enough space, I’ll even let you cum.” That seemed to kick him into overdrive and he grabs your hand guiding directly to a private room with red carpeting and furniture. His only instruction is to sit as you point toward the lounge seat. “That was awfully fast. Now I wonder if it’s even worth a reward.”

You’re quiet as you slowly pace back and forth, thinking to yourself about this night. It all seems a little too calculated. You pause in front of him, more like you’re looming over him in your heels. You watch his eyes trail from the points of your shoes all the way up to meeting your eyes- and it’s easy to tell that his immediate response would have been to whimper, but he senses you waiting for any wrong move.

“Why did you bring me here?” Nothing. You get absolutely nothing but a diversion of eyes. His squirms increase under your scrutiny. “Haechan. I will touch you until this club closes and ruin your ability to cum for yourself or anyone else if you do not answer me. What. is going. on?” There’s only a mumble you don’t understand before he goes back to feigning innocence.

Fine. You opt for trying an approach he would be receptive of. Wordlessly, you remove his pants, giggling to yourself at his Christmas themed g-string. “Shut up” he mumbles sassily, which for some reason irked you more than it usually would. The sharp sting of his underwear elastic snapping against his skin has him both hissing and staring at you with needy eyes.

You maintain his eye contact, his own widening as your face gets closer to his when you straddle his lap- the fluffy trim of your sexy Mrs. Claus costume tickling his midsection. “If you don’t want to willingly tell me, I’ll get it out of you another way.” His eyes glow with amusement and desire as you glide your fingers beneath his waistband, “You can try all you want but I’m not giving i- mmm.” 

That quickly shut him up, you again, giggle to yourself. “You act all big and bad but you’re so weak to pleasure your inner slut can’t help but submit. Even if it’s from your best friend, hm?”  He bites his lip to hold his sounds back, but his chest is already heaving as if he’s close.

“Surely Mr. ‘Won’t-give-in’ isn't close already.” Your taunting seems to only spur him closer to climax. “You better not cum Donghyuck or so help me Go-” His head is thrown back, hips thrusting into your hand to fully ride out his orgasm, essentially sending your own body up with them- completely drowning out your words. Whimpering and whining as your hand applies pressure to his now sensitive dick.

He attempts to continue thrusting until your hand comes up to grip his face, body stilling save for the shiver that passes over him at the strong look in your eyes, “If you don’t stop fucking playing with me I will restrain you, tie a vibrator to your dick, stick one in your ass, and walk right out of that door.” Your threats seem to have the opposite effect as you feel him growing harder in your hand again.

Chuckles of disbelief leave you as you begin laughing hysterically, even that has his erection rising further. “My God.” Your faces are close, eyes searching his as your hand begins to move at a slow, steady pace. “You really are a perv aren’t you?” He whines loudly and looks at you pleadingly. “Lucky for you, so am I. Know that I intend to keep my word of ruining you for anyone else.” 

Your hand does a 180, now jerking at a speed too incredible for him to keep up with, “That was your plan with me, wasn’t it?” In the middle of his second orgasm, his expression is one of shock at your words. “Fuuuuuck mommy- please please.” Your body heats up at the title and it honestly makes you feel even more powerful. His body is writhing and twitching beneath you as you don’t let up on stroking him. “If you give me one more, maybe I’ll think about stopping.”

“No no no no,” you aren’t too sure what he’s pleading about, but no way are you stopping now. “The club will be shutting down in about five minutes.” Right as you yell “Coming!” in response to the rough knock on the door, Haechan does the same but for completely different reasons. His hands grip your waist when you stop, his face still asking for more. “We have to go now Pookie, but I’ll take care of you when we get home.” 

He assists you in cleaning up as you help redress, “You may have been a bit of a brat, but you were still a good boy for me. As a result, I'll let you decide what happens when we get home.” His eyes light up and his confidence immediately resurfaces, “Just know it’s my turn to ruin you for everyone.” 

“Hyuck- wait slow dow-” you cut off your sentence with a gasp as you realize you slapped his face with a heavier hand than intended. There’s a moment of silence as you both process what just happened before he’s further backing you into your apartment- lips excitedly attacking your neck. “God you are so sexy.”

You get over your shock, your seductive chuckle reddening his ears, “What a pain slut you’ve turned out to be.” That only makes his hips rut against you as he licks your neck, not separating from you to gauge the direction of your bedroom. “Wait the bedroom’s that way.” He continues feeling you up beneath your costume, “Fuck the bedroom, you’re taking me right here.”

He bends you over the couch, slapping and groping your ass. “Who gave you permission to out-sexy my sexiest thoughts of you.” Your hips grind back on him as he presses his bulge firmly against your core, “How perverted can you be to get this hard over your best friend.” He begins softly rocking, thrusting his hips against yours, “And how greedy does your pussy have to be to grind on my clothed dick like a neglected whore.”

You don’t know why, but his words ignite deep arousal within you. “Just shut up and fuck me already.” He wordlessly pulls himself out of his tight confines and teases his head against your soft thong, “By the feel of your holes clenching through your panties, you wouldn’t even be patient enough for me to prep you.”

“What’s prep when you’re made for me.” You try to contain your laughter as your teasing words make his movements stutter. In the end a sharp slap is landed on your exposed ass with a gritted mutter, “Don’t go putting hopeful thoughts in my head.” Before you can decide whether to continue teasing him or reassure him, he’s easing into you with a stretch so delicious your first moan is drug out.

You’d expect his thrusts to be rapid and shallow with how desperate he’d been to be inside you, but it was the complete opposite. “Paced and deep, just the way you like it right?” His strokes really were perfect. Hips connecting with yours with the right amount of force. One hand caressing your skin while the other unexpectedly spreads your wetness around your unoccupied hole.

His hips come to a sudden stop as he leans over your back. “I-I want you to ride me.” Even through his effort to top you, you can feel that you still have the power. “Okay daddy, come sit.” You patiently wait during his awkward fumbling to circle the couch, but once you sink onto him you both moan in unison. “I must be doing my job with the way you’re squeezing around me. Am I making you feel good?” 

“Mmhm, you’re doing such a good job baby.” His head is thrown back as he “guides” your ass to slam back down to meet his thrusts halfway. “I told you I was going to ruin you f-for everyone.” You take that opportunity to lay him flat on the couch, your hands using his chest for support, “It feels so good being stretched by you Hyuck.” 

You lean forward now allowing your ass to fully bounce on him faster. “Fuck baby you take my cock so well. Who’s my good girl? Huh?” The second he asks, one of your hands reach forward and caresses his face as you keep bouncing, “It’s you isn’t it? You’re my good boy?” You seal it with a tender yet erotic kiss on his lips and he’s instantly whimpering and tightly gripping your flesh.

“I-I’m close.” But you ignore him and his attempts to thrust up into you as you continue controlling the pace, opting to switch to a slow whining of your hips. “P-Please, mommy. Mommy can I please cum?” A pleasant shudder passes through you at the besotted, fucked out expression he gives you as he begs, “Please PLEASE can I cum? Can I cum inside, please? Mommy I’m so close, please.” 

His begs become more adamant and panicked as you clench around him with each circle of your hips, your own climax approaching. “You want to cum baby?” He immediately nods eagerly with hopeful eyes as his hands fervidly touch and grasp every inch of your body, “Please.” His whispered plea seems to be enough to satisfy you, “Can you be a good boy and fill me up?”

“Yes yes yes mommy, I can be a good boy. I’m your good boy.” His moans and cries are anything but quiet as he releases ropes of heat inside of you. Your teeth sink into his shoulder when your orgasm creeps through you as you grind harder onto him, “Oh Fuuuucck. Shit, yes Hyuck.”

There is a flurry of soft moans and breathing as you both come down from your high. Haechan looks at you enamored. “You are so..beautiful.” The compliment caught you off guard, but seeing the sincerity in his eyes you smile at him, “Thank you, Pookie. You are too. Truly.” You plant one last kiss on his lips before getting off of him to move to your bathroom.

He lets out a startling hoot and laughs in a victorious tone causing you to stop and face him. “The hell is so funny?” He turns to you with a cutely smug smirk, “I won.” You  look at him incredulously, “Won?”

Now redressed, he approaches you with an air of arrogance, stopping in front of you, “I hit first. So I. won.”

You let his words sink in with silence before smirking at him, “Just remember I’m the one you call ‘mommy’.”

A blush brushes his features at your words as you walk off, “You’re my bitch now.”

tagging:

@thesafecafe

@atinystaypixie

@neoculturecollectives

@multifandomslxt

@haechansbbg

@lovncts

@mrkis

[its-me-im-coraline]

NSFW Alphabet // Thomas Raggi

words // 1161

warnings // smut

pairing // Thomas Raggi x Reader

author's note // if you want to be on the tag list let me know. ok i was going to post an actual fic today but something came up so I did not finish it but I had these already done soooo. yeah.

request // yes in a reblog

summary // self explanatory

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

Thomas is utterly soft regarding aftercare. He will give you back rubs and little massages when he has been dominant. But if you are the dominant one he is full on fucked out mode and he needs to be taken care of. He will be shy to say this at first but after the first few times you have sex and you see that he is exhausted from what went down you’ll kind of force him to sit down and for you to take care of him. He will insist on taking care of you.

“Here’s your water, baby,” he almost whispers when he approaches you.

His eyes are droopy, half closed as he barely stands awake. His hair is messy, and there’s a flush on his cheeks from all the action.

“Thommy, are you alright? Should I be the one to take care of you?” Your words seem to have shaken him up, as if he is ashamed of needing aftercare.

“No, no, no! I am fine!”

“Puppy, you aren’t. Come on, come here,” you prompt, the man missing not one second to jump into your arms, “it’s ok to not be able to give me aftercare, baby. You deserve it just as much.”

The man simply sighed on your shoulder, eyes resting closed as he fell asleep.

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

His favorite part of himself is most likely his hands. The man plays the guitar, he’s quite proud of what he can do with his fingers, thus why it’s his favorite part.

Now, on you, I see him being a thigh guy like Damiano. He’d give his life to simply feel your thighs crush his head. Wow

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

he’s kind of shy about it when you guys are intimate, but only because he is generally sub. He will be asking for permission and all, beg to cum in you or on your stomach.

“Ah, ah, please - can-can I cum? Can I cum on your stomach?” His voice is weavering, shaky with pleasure as he can’t control himself any longer. It was torture to even ask and wait for your answer but he knew you’d stop all together if he did not.

“Go ahead baby, cum on my stomach- agh yes, so beautifully”

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

He’s fairly experienced, def had his fair share of sexual partners but he is not clueless that’s for sure

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

I’d say he loves you riding him. Any position where you ride him is perfect in his head. He loves it when you are facing him and he can see your face but also he can feel your thighs any time he pleases

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

I feel like he is generally pretty goofy in bed. He will crack a joke or two in the process of making comments about you.

“oh yes baby, ride that dick like a cowboy” or something like that.

He will even have casual conversation with you while you’re fucking, like, “where do you want to eat after?”

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

He does not really shave but he trims the hair a bit. Kind of the mindset of Ethan. Like he does not care too much but he’d rather you choke on his dick rather than his hair

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

Can be very romantic if he wants to. There are def instances where he will surprise you with a nice dinner and then take you to the bedroom, with some low lighting, light music to get you in the mood and full on making love to you

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He jacks off to photos of you when he is away and in the mood. If he is with you he does not find a reason to do it. You’re literally next to him and up to no good

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

He is overall submissive, with like chokers on, he’d take a spanking here and there but it was not his favorite thing to do.

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

He looooves receiving oral from you. If you ask him, you are the most skilled he ever had. He does not prefer them compared to you but especially in terms of quickies and stuff he would die for them.

He would not hesitate to give back though, he is no little boy, innuendo intentional.

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

He’s usually quick when he is close and chasing his orgasm but other than that he keeps a pretty satisfying tempo.

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

He’s all in for them when you are trapped in spaces with other people for too long. He doesn’t care if you have 20 or 10 minutes, if he needs you (and you want to of course) he’d hide in the bathroom and fuck you as quick as you both can take

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

He is interested in the risky stuff and into trying new things but he might be a little shy at first. He will not initiate something different. At least not before you have a conversation about it and you reassure him he can tell you what he thinks..

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

He has not thought about it much, and in all honesty he is afraid of you using toys on him but at the same time the thought makes him very hard. he’s open to try using them if you suggest it

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

ooooh a lot. he’s the absolute tease. innuendos when you are trying to have a wholesome conversation, thigh rubs when you’re in public, ‘accidentally’ hitting his arm on the wall and moaning in ‘pain’... He has a devious brat mind

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

unless you tell him to be quiet, he has no intention on confiding his sounds of pleasure. he will moan, he will scream, he will groan, he will do all of it, and if you get complaints from neighbours… oh well, they should close their windows better

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

He is pretty big. Above average for sure.

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

He is horny all.the.time. There is not a day when he does not come to you with an “i’m horny, help”

tag list: @bieberhoodforever @tabi-toast @ginny-lily @moriro-da-regina @the-killer-queenie @makapaka11 @teenyweenynightghost

[cherry3point14]

One Helluva Car

Pairing: Dean x Reader Warnings: Minor car fetish, one paragraph of blink-and-you’ll-miss-it smut, a little jealous!Dean, this is crack babes’, I can’t stress this enough: car fetish Word Count: 3,500. Summary: Just a small town girl, living in a lonely world and then one day she sees Baby... A/N: @alexwinchester23​ hit me up a THOUSAND years ago with the prompt: dean x reader where she is more “in love” with deans car and it makes him a little jelly lol. And I was like, ha ha ha sure I’ll write it. It’s been half written ever since. So, I finished it. Someone please be proud of me for finishing. (Not like that you animals.)  This also fills Driving In The Impala for @spndeanbingo​

It’s Monday lunchtime when you see it. Her? It looks like a her. The best cars are ‘hers’ and even from a distance, she has curves that only a good woman could possess.

You’ve had a morning of shitty, old trucks that have been run hard for too long, and new cars that you plug into the computer to diagnose, which takes all the fun out of life. It’s easy to see a mile off that she isn’t shitty or bogged down with modern tech. She’s a well looked after classic. A thing of beauty. A freaking masterpiece. She’s polished enough that the sun bounces off of her black surface like she’s made of glass.

If only your arms weren’t laden with brown paper bags of food you’d take a detour to get a closer look. You could ghost your hand over her hood and take a look at the interior. You bet it’s the softest fucking leather your ass would ever hope to feel.

You’d generally drool over her without actually drooling because God knows spit is not good for the paintwork. Unfortunately, you do have bags filled with hot, meaty subs intended to feed your workforce. And you’re wise enough to know that making a garage of hungry mechanics wait for their lunch is not a good move. It’ll only result in some sort of unnecessary disaster this afternoon that you, their boss, will have to fix or pay for. Or both.

The only thing you can do is take one last look at her, memorize that beautiful shape while you heft the bags closer to your chest and carry on walking. It’s not like you’ve never seen a good old fashion American muscle car before, you have your own ‘70 Mustang at home.

It’s just… this is a Chevvy Impala, arguably the first car to flex its muscles. You don’t see one of those every day.

Your hobby is like a much cooler version of birdwatching. You have an appreciation for cars, classics in particular. The craftsmanship, the design, and the sounds they make as they tear through the world like moving time capsules. Nothing generated by a low emission engine compares.

That’s how you spot her for the second time, on Wednesday.

Well, you hear her first.

You’re closing up for the night. Everyone goes home early on Wednesdays, the shop closes at three, except for you. There’s always paperwork that needs to be done and you hate the idea of taking it home if you can help it. Taking a car home you’re always happy to do, but paperwork? You refuse to dirty your private space like that.

It’s just before six when you’re locking the doors and thunder screams in the distance. At least you think it’s thunder, you wonder where the clouds are until it moves too fast to be a weather condition.

The closer it gets the more the sound transforms into pure, uncut horsepower. It’s the deep rumble of an engine that demands to be heard. It tears your attention to it whether you like it or not. An announcement of the coming vehicle before it arrives.

Then she glides around the corner of Maple and Third before peeling down the street past you. It’s her again, she’s still in town. You know it’s the same car, she isn’t a vehicle made for stealth and your little ol’ town isn’t exactly heaving with beauties like her.

You know she’s not a local, it must be a flying visit, you’re lucky enough to have seen her again before she left. Not just seen her though, heard her. Heard her engine and the screech of her tires on the tarmac. Experiencing her in action is breathtaking enough that you gawp at her like an idiot as she zooms away.

It’s not a fetish or anything. You don’t exactly cuddle an exhaust pipe in bed. You appreciate cars more than your job requires you to, simple. It’s a respect that was drilled into you from a young age. Your dad owns a franchise of shops across the state and never had the boy he always wanted. He didn’t mope about it, he taught you to fix an engine instead. To appreciate every individual piece like an unsolved puzzle. And because your dad is a big ol’ softie he taught you that classic cars can’t be beaten, he favors Camaros in particular. He gave you a garage to work in until you’d labored enough to earn it for keeps and manage it as your own. Your dad raised you to bleed motor oil and sweat gasoline.

Cars are your life. Ok, maybe you’re a bit of a gearhead is all. You can’t help it if that Impala is a fine wine you want to uncork.

You watch the street lights make a hazy path for her to follow, another corner and she’s gone.

At home, you curl up on your sofa and scroll through your usual sites to see how much your own Impala would cost. In good condition, you’d have to sell one of the two cars you already have but there’s this smashed up ‘68 in New Jersey that might be worth the drive for the price. It would basically be a new car by the time you rebuild it but that doesn’t matter. All you needed were the bones of the thing and you never shy away from a project that involves weeks of hunting down original parts, that’s half the fun. For tonight at least it gets bookmarked. The decision left for another day, if it still seems like a good idea in the morning then you’ll make the call.

Hell, maybe tomorrow you’ll see something else and forget all about her. Maybe.

Good looking guys come through town from time to time but Dean is a rare treat. He’s the picture next to ‘handsome’ in the dictionary. He’s got these full lips that you’ve stared at, without an ounce of shame, while he sucks on a beer bottle. A jawline covered in scruff that you’ve already imagined between your thighs. And then there are those hands of his. It could be your line of work but you always loved a man with hands like his. Broad hands and thick fingers. Mechanic hands you’d call them, you half wish they were covered in oil and grease.

He was tapping away on the bar for a while, drumming aimlessly while you drank, but now he’s toppled in your direction. He’s standing between his barstool and yours, while you're still seated, which makes you the perfect height for him to slip an arm around you. His thumb has settled in on tracing the edge of your jeans while he talks to you, tickling your back where your tank had ridden up.

Honestly? He doesn’t even need to be a good lay to be worth the trip to bed.

“I know you said you’re in town with your brother…”

He winces at the start of your sentence, “with the things I’m thinking about doing to you honey, you can’t go mentioning Sammy at the same time.”

Underneath the stained overalls, you’re still a woman and you’re not sure if there’s anyone alive who could resist Dean’s charms. When you laugh at his ridiculous propositioning, you don’t even try to fight when it tails off into a giggle.

“I was going to ask if you had your own room? Or are we going back to my place?”

You’d almost think he’d been playing it cool up until this point. Everything had been measured and smooth. But you ask him that and he finally cracks, urgency slips through that charm offensive. He tilts his head forward as his face hardens into something intense, eyes hooded under the light of the bar. His hand slides up underneath your top enough that his whole palm skates against your skin. “How about a compromise? My car, your place?”

You lean in until you’re almost touching his lips, your tongue peeks out to wet them and flicks against his, taunting. “Deal."

He doesn’t need to know that you walked here and needed a ride home anyway. That's irrelevant.

Stumbling out of the bar is messy. Not because of the alcohol, neither of you have drunk that much, it’s his hands on your waist. They’re possessive and so there.

Maybe he’s not so bad in bed. Maybe he’s actually, pretty good in…

Oh fuck. It’s her.

You’re stopped in your tracks by the sight of your very own white whale. Well, black and shiny Impala but the metaphor stands.

You stop and Dean bumps into you, not expecting it so soon. For a brief moment, you’re frozen in awe, reverence. Even in the dark, she’s perfect. Street lights bouncing off of her smooth exterior. The night is chilly and there’s a hint of condensation creeping around the edges of the windshield which only serves to make her sparkle.

“Wow, she’s-”

“Mine?” Dean finishes, a wry grin on his face and keys dangling from those fingers you’d been drooling over moments ago. Fuck him and his fingers now.

“Shit, Dean. I’ve been seeing this car all week. She’s beautiful.” You walk towards her, carefully, in case you spook her. She’s an old soul, probably jumpy. Your hand reaches out but doesn’t touch her yet because you’re being respectful.

You’d have thought Dean might have appreciated your care. Instead, he laughs and it catches you off guard. You whip your head back around to glare at him and he encourages you, “she won't bite.”

When you finally make contact she’s cool and glossy under your touch, but even so, you don’t run your hand over her like you want to. You can feel the waxed surface that you don’t want to ruin. You know how much effort goes into a good wax job like this. Instead, you trade your whole hand for your fingertips and trace her edges as if trying to remember her shape for when you rebuild your own.

“Ahem.” In the distance, Dean clears his throat. Sucks for him. You’ve got a new love interest.

“Sweetheart?” He asks again, stepping up closer to you as if you didn’t hear him. He sounds needy like he wants you, but it’s edged with this vulnerable envy. You already noticed his bright green eyes in the bar, now you're wondering if there’s a different green-eyed monster at play.

He needs to understand, you saw the car first. She’s held your heart all week, Dean piqued the interest of your lady parts about half an hour ago. You might say age before beauty but this Impala has Dean beat on both fronts, older and more beautiful.

“Where’d you get these rims, if I didn’t know better I’d almost say they’re original,” you spare him a glance over your shoulder. “But I do know better.”

He looks like he’s struggling with not having your full attention, you’d almost say he’s pouting. Then he sticks out his bottom lip and he's definitely pouting. He shuffles from foot to foot and steels his jaw. It makes it even more difficult for him then when you ask questions that he wants to answer. You can see the cogs turning where he’s trying to work out if he should encourage your interest or not. As much as he wants sex, in the end, the gearhead wins out.

“Fixed her up a lot over the years, found those in a junkyard if you believe it.” He steps up next to you now with a proud smile.

“I can believe it. I’ve seen the stuff people throw away. They’re perfect. Can I?” You slide out your phone and wave it at him.

He nods, although a little dumbstruck.

You bend down and snap a picture, explaining. “I was looking at a sixty-eight to rebuild, maybe. Actually, yours gave me the idea, saw her and couldn’t get her out of my head. I have a friend who might be able to help me out with these.”

“You wanna build one?” He sounds interested but not enough to get him off track. The track being you.

“Yeah. I told you I’m a mechanic. Building these things is in my blood.”

The air is cool and you start to feel it, not having intended being outside this long. He sees you shiver and steps behind you running his hands up and down your arms. “Sixty-eight ain’t a sixty-seven though, is it?” He asks, voice dripping with cocky arrogance about his car.

Oh, fuck. He’s figured out the way to your heart. He’s got you all turned around and leaning against her. Back pressed against her metal and glass enough that you’ll be feeling her for weeks.

“No, it’s not…”

“Wanna ride my Baby?” Dean presses his lips to the corner of your mouth with the question, leaving enough space for you to let out an almost inaudible gasp.

You’d be inclined to say men name their cars the dumbest shit sometimes but ‘Baby’ fits somehow. It’s perfect. She’s Baby.

“Yeah,” you nod. Right now, it's all you’ve ever wanted.

He walks you to the passenger’s side door and opens it’s for you. It’s not even romantic, it’s a fucking turn on.

Maybe you do have a car fetish. You should probably figure that out, like, another day.

In the time it takes Dean to strut to the other side you have sunk into the leather and just as you imagined, it’s soft. Worn and loved, like everything else about this beauty. This is what’s makes her special and that’s why you would have to love your own extra hard. To make up the years of neglect.

“Ready to go?”

He’s looking at you, smirking in your peripheral, and you’re looking at his fingers on the keys. You know what’s going to happen when he turns them. You’re still not prepared.

“Let’s do it.” A grin slides onto your face.

She rumbles to life beneath you. The vibrations from her engine shudder through the seat straight to your core. From there you swear the horsepower zips to every nerve ending in your body like electricity powering a city. And the sound could strike you down. She somehow purrs and roars at the same time. Each rev is a scream but her engine sings between each turn.

“Two eighty-three?” You ask, bottom lip caught behind your teeth.

“Get out of here with that two eighty-three crap. She’s a three twenty-seven.” He snaps, but not really, pressing his foot on the gas again just to see you quiver. Another rotation of the engine, her power, rolls through you.

He pulls out onto the road, leaving the dive behind, and drifts a little as he does, the back of her floating into the road. You slide over the seat an inch and he’s half focused on you, half focused on driving, so you're not even sure if he planned it. You scoot closer to him and he weighs his arm, the one not currently steering, around your shoulders. You’re becoming increasingly aware that the car smells like him, or he smells like her. Leather, sweet and spicy, musky. It’s a complicated mix where you’re not sure whether it's more her or him. You want to wrap yourself up in it all the same but Baby can’t wrap you up, Dean can.

“Dean I… Next left… I really, really love this car.”

He licks his lips as he looks down at you, his pupils wide, probably has a clear view of your chest, “yeah? How much, sweetheart?”

“A lot.” You pant in his ear, teeth grazing his lobe. “Second right, then it’s the third house on the left.”

A growl comes out of him. Determined. And you’re not so sure you care about fucking Dean anymore but each time you work him up a little higher, he revs that gorgeous engine and you get to feel that thunder. It’s the best circle jerk you could imagine, everyone is truly happy.

He pulls up in front of your house in record time because Baby is gunning 285 horsepower, so she’s not exactly going to be beat.

The problem, that you hadn’t really planned on, is arriving at your destination. As soon as he cuts the engine you puncture. Missing the everything about her straight away and wishing you’d kept driving for hours. Still, you have the scent of leather everywhere, burdening your senses with the smell of a bygone era. You hike a leg over Dean and sit in his lap. A knee either side of his thighs, denting her seats and Baby’s steering wheel holding the curve of your ass. Your hands skip Deans’ shoulders in favor of the seat behind him, the cushioned bench under the pads of your fingers, as you attach your mouth to his. Sandwiched between Baby and Dean, and you never want to leave the spot.

Your tongue curls into his mouth at the same time that he presses his fingers into your hips so tight you’re sure there’ll be bruises. You’ve never worried about a tight grip on you before but he starts pulling you towards him and away from where you’re wedged on Baby. The more you lean your body into Dean, the less you feel his car.

“Baby.” You murmur into him. Dean must mistake it to be a pet name you’re borrowing, calling him, because he pulls you again. Actually you’re telling him where you want to be, to stay.

Here. With Baby.

“This is a nice neighborhood.” He hums in this tone that’s deep but it doesn’t go through you like the sound of a turbo V-8. “We should take this inside.”

He’s right. Carl from the damn neighborhood watch is probably already doing just that, watching. The pervert.

“Right, sure.” You agree despite the way your stomach drops at the thought of leaving her.

You’re all untangling limbs getting out and he kisses you once more against Baby before you allow him to drag you away. It already feels different, normal, boring.

Dean’s fine, he’s good, he’s handy. Like you’d thought he would be.

You wrap your mouth around his dick because you’ve always liked looking up through your lashes and seeing the way a guy goes breathless on your tongue. He works you open on his thick fucking fingers until the pressure in your stomach snaps with his thumb circling your clit. He pushes into you and the stretch, the burn, is perfect. Dean is better in bed than you’d expected him to be.

And yet, it’s empty. Dulled. It doesn’t scratch the itch like good sex used to. The whole experience dampened compared to what you’d felt sitting in the front seat of his 1967 Chevy Impala.

You slip on some oversized shirt from your floordrobe to walk him out when he leaves. Neither of you under any impression that he’s staying the night. He’s got this satisfied grin on his face that he hasn’t been able to wipe off since the first time he came. He stops at your doorstep, “thanks, sweetheart. This was fun.”

“Sure was,” you agree, not giving him the full story. Standing at your doorway you’re looking at Baby instead of Dean, again. “Let me know if you’re still in town tomorrow, I’d love to go for another ride.”

He nods and backs away a few steps until he’s in your line of sight along with his car, “will do, baby.”

He must think you mean sex. You wouldn't be opposed to it but you mean a drive. A real drive with wide roads, and opening the taps. You can break that to him tomorrow if he does give you that call. If he doesn't then there's only one thing you need to say before he leaves. One thing you can't let her leave without saying.

“One helluva car you got there, Dean.”

Second A/N: Look, this didn’t start out as a full on car fetish but I was writing it and SOMETIMES I HAVE NO CONTROL. Sometimes these characters they say, “fuck you!” and do what they want. I was going to write a nice little jealousy thing. Dean wants some attention. That’s all. You only have yourselves to blame readers!

5eva tags: @divadinag @darthdeziewok @fluentinfiction @witch-of-letters @supernatural-teamfreewill-blog @magnitude101999 @alexwinchester23 @jesseswartzwelder Dean babes: @thewinchesterchronicles @akshi8278 @bloodydaydreamer @iamabeautifulperson18 @erins-culinary-service

[bakusoftie]

sooo ummm; you said you were looking for an excuse to write smut for unbreakable kiri? sooo umm i don't have a specific request just knock yourself out writing for kiri💜💕💝💓🥺💝he baby💖💝💗💜💗but can also pound me❤️💖💕💞

THANK YOU!!!!! KIRISHIMA IS THE LOVE OF MY LIFE !!!! I LOVE HE !!!

also this is the first smut i have ever wriiten and i am aware how bad it is 

i hate it but i like it?

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

Kirishima x Villain! Reader | smut

warnings: sub!kiri, dom!reader, oral sex, BAD WRITING!!!, porn with some badly written plot? 

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

You watched as the red-headed boy, that you recognized from watching him fight in the sports festival, take punch after punch of your teammate’s, Rappa Kendou’s, powerful combat quirk. The boy used his quirk to harden his entire body and the sight of his monstrous form made you feel the heat forming in your lower half

You were technically apart of The Eight Precepts of Death but you never fought or committed any of the heinous crimes that they had. Overhaul took you in after seeing how powerful your healing quirk was and you’ve been the Yakuza’s little nurse ever since. Kai never let you fight because you were ‘too valuable’ but you sure did love to watch people get hurt and beaten down.

The spiky-haired boy was reaching his absolute limit as Rappa broke down his once hardened skin. The way he struggled but never gave up piqued your interest in the hero-in-training.

Fat Gum breaks Tengai’s barrier and you tried to hold in an ungodly snort as you watch your teammates fly from the shock-absorbed punch that Fat Gum had made.

You made your way over to Rappa and Tengai to make sure they weren’t injured but when you saw both of their broken bodies, you knew you’d be overworking your quirk today.

But what surprised you the most is when you tried healing Rappa and he told you to heal the, now unconscious, shark-teethed boy instead of him.

With Fat Gum’s supervision, you took the boy, who you learned was named Eijirōu Kirishima, to a rendezvous point where you had the supplies and space to heal him.

‘He looks so pretty when he’s sleeping…and when he’s fighting too’ you admired the gorgeous boy’s features from the scar that trailed down his left eyebrow to his soft, squish-able cheeks. His breath had grown heavier as his beautiful crimson eyes fluttered open to meet yours.

Kirishima was taken back to find himself face-to-face with such a pretty girl after experiencing such an overwhelming fight; frankly, he thought he was in heaven.

”You’re Kirishima Eijirou, right? I watched your fight with Rappa. Very impressive, not many people survive his wrath,” you mischievously smiled at him as your eyes sized him up and down. “So, just wondering, what other parts of you get hard?”

“Uh w-what? Wow you’re really straight to the point, aren’t you?” Kirishima’s face burst out in a shade of red darker than his hair and rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment.

You trailed your fingers down his thick,muscular thighs all the way to the tent forming in his pants. Kirishima let out a desperate sigh and bucked his hips to meet your hand, that was now palming him through his hero costume.

“W-what are you doing?” Kirishima tried to ignore the pleasure that the beautiful stranger was giving him but it was just too much for him to resist.

“You know, I’m still wet from when I was watching you earlier. You looked like some bloodthirsty monster and I couldn’t help but wonder if I could be able to tame you,” you stopped your tracing of his hard cock to dip your fingers in the waistband of his pants.

“Fuck,” he breathes out. “Yes, yes, yes, please, I want that.” Kirishima moans when you slowly started to pull down his pants, leaving him in his tight black boxers that showcased his thicc ass.

“Now Kiri,” you purr, as you trail your fingers down his naked torso. “Here’s what I’m gonna do, cutie. I’m gonna suck your cock. But, you’re not allowed to come until I say so.”

Kiri’s cock jerks in anticipation. “Please,” he rasps, as he bites his lips with his unusually sharp teeth. ”I want to be good for you. I’ll be so good for you. Please touch me.”

You teased him by lapping at his large member from the base to his head, tracing your tongue against his prominent veins as his cock twitches and leaks pre-cum that you make sure to clean off of him.

A hoarse shout leaves his throat when your lips finally close around the head of his dick. You swallow him down with practiced ease, then waste no time bobbing your head up and down his length. The sudden transition from having no stimulation on his cock to suddenly being engulfed by the warmth of your mouth brings Kiri right to the edge.

“Im gonna come, baby, fuck baby—please—oh, don’t stop, so close—,”

Kiri sobs in frustration when you pull off immediately, robbing him of his climax.

You stood off from the side of the bed to undress as Kirishima drank in the sight of your naked flesh.

You straddle his thighs the mattress creaking and groaning in protest of every tiny movement you make. You can feel how wet you are as you press your heat against the underside of his length mixing your juices before using a hand to guide him inside of you. You side down slowly until he is completely sheathed and you both give a cry of ecstasy. You stay still for a few seconds taking quick, shallow breaths, adjusting to his above-average size.

You look into his eyes and begin to move,riding him slowly. His head drops on the pillow his eyes roll back and his hands come up to your breasts teasing your nipples with thumb and forefinger. You slide up until only his tip is left inside then lower yourself again with a roll of your hips. His size felt good stretching your tight walls, rubbing against that small bundle of nerves that makes your whole body quiver.

You feel yourself clench after lifting yourself and lowering a few times in a strange rhythm, but after a few good beginner thrusts, you set a better pace.

Snapping your hips down, over and over again, you could feel every part of his large member as he filled you up to the brim and hit your cervix with every harsh movement you made. 

He started to take back control and gripped your hips as his fingers dig into your flesh, sure to leave bruises and crescent-shaped marks. 

Kirishima’s thrusts got faster and wilder as he got closer. His fingers rubbed fast, gentle circles on her clit, pushing you over the edge, your walls clenching around him as your orgasm courses through you like electricity.

Kiri thrusted a few more times before stilling deep inside you, shooting his hot seed as he followed you with his own sweet release.

By the time you were finished, the two of you were gasping heavily, Kirishima was still inside you and your hands still clutching his shoulders. There was wetness between your legs and when you moved to stand up, his thick cum mixed with your juices slid down your thighs and legs.

“You okay?” You asked, as you went to clean yourself up.

All Kirishima could do was give you a whimper and a nod as his head fell back to the bed, not even bothering to cover himself as he drifted back to sleep.

Although when he woke up, clothed and without anyone in sight, he thought you were just a vivid wet dream he had,,,until he found the sticky note of the side of the bed that said ‘Let’s do this again, Red Riot” with what he assumed your number on it. He was shook and only one thought could form in his head.

‘Did we use protection? 👀’

[tayegi]

Seven Days Ch. 1 (m)

A series of short smut ficlets detailing every day of Jungkook’s week-long chastity training.

Warning: BDSM themes; sub!Jungkook smut

***

Day 1

"Damn girl, how many guys have you gone through this year alone?" Jungkook asks with amusement as he watches your latest rejected lover bang on the front door from his vantage point leaning against the balcony railing.

You sigh deeply, "He's the third failure… And this one only lasted 10 days this time. How is it getting worse?"

"It's because you don't know how to pick them right," He idly comments as he watches your former boytoy cause a scene yelling your name down below.

"___!" He shouts, "___, I'm sorry! Please give me another chance!"

You wince as you take another deep swig from your glass, "Oh my god… This is so embarrassing. We were together for less than two weeks. How can he be acting like this already?"

"Was the sex really that good?" Jungkook asks with a raised brow as he turns to face you.

"Oh, like you wouldn't believe," you say with a chuckle. "But aren't you just nosy?"

He smirks in response, "I'm just curious as to what would cause a seemingly normal, self-respecting guy to act in such a humiliating way," he says, cringing slightly when the boy on the doorstep suddenly bursts out hysterical wails of your name. "Wow. You must have given him the fuck of his life."

You roll your eyes, "Once again, you prove your extreme ignorance in the realm of BDSM. That's not how it works, babe."

Jungkook is completely unfazed by your correction. In fact, his smirk only grows in size, "Is that so? Well, then I guess you'll just have to teach me…"

You eye your housemate warily, perfectly aware of his intentions. Jungkook has been flirty with you since the day you moved in, and this flirtiness has exponentially increased upon the discovery of your hidden kinky side. You don't run into him often in the huge co-op with dozens of occupants, but every time the two of you have crossed paths in the kitchen or the lounge spaces, he has made his interest painfully obvious… Not that you've ever taken him seriously. He's a fuckboi by every definition of the word, and he'd proposition anything breathing. He's only taken a recent interest to you due to the seemingly exotic and taboo nature of your sexual interests.

And you don't mind it. Although he can be rather sleazy at times, it's lighthearted fun. And besides, who wouldn't welcome attention from the gorgeous brunette?

You lightly push your hair back as you return his smile with a coy one of your own, "Oh, sweetheart. You precious little boy. You wouldn't survive chastity training with me. I would wreck you."

But rather than scaring him off, your warning only increases his interest. Jungkook slowly runs his tongue over his bottom lip, "Mmm. And how is that supposed to be a bad thing?" he asks, taking a long stride forward to encroach in your space.

Slowly, you raise your glass to your lips and take a sip of the rich liquor before responding, "You're very spoiled, Jeon Jungkook," you inform him in a slow drawl, "With your body and that cute little face of yours, I bet you have girls eating out of your hand. You can make girls do whatever you want in bed, huh?"

His lips curl into a shit-eating grin, "Ah, so you've heard the rumors?"

"That's not a compliment," you say with a laugh, "You're so used to getting what you want; to having girls line up to suck your dick at the drop of a hat, that you have absolutely no discipline or self-control. You wouldn't be able to handle a woman like me, baby boy."

He likes the nickname. You can tell by the way his eyes darken and he subconsciously shifts forward until his knees brush the edge of your chair. "How can you be so sure of that, princess?" he asks in a husky voice.

You can't deny the way it sends shivers down your back. Despite your best intentions, you are helpless attracted to your sexy housemate. And you're quickly forgetting why this would be a bad idea. "Damn, Jeon. I didn't know that you were the submissive type."

"I'm not," he chuckles, "I'd much rather be in control. But for you? I'd do anything you want to get at that sweet little pussy of yours. So you gotta tie me up and whip me or whatever, I'm game… Damn, even that sounds hot coming from you."

"I don't know if you're joking or not… But you do realize that in chastity, I wouldn't let you anywhere near my pussy for a very long time?"

"Mmhmm, and that's fine. As long as I get to it at the end."

"Oh my god," you gasp, "Jungkook, are you actually serious about this?!"

"As serious as I've ever been," he says. "Come on, ___. At least I'd be better than that guy."

And right on cue, your former sub screams out your name at that very second, "___! Please give me another chance! I'll be a good boy, mistress!"

Your face fills with heat and you quickly drop your head in shame, "Fuck my life," you groan, "Why does this always happen to me?"

"You know I'd never act like that, no matter what happens," Jungkook points out.

You slowly raise your head to look at him. He's definitely just doing all that he can to get in your pants… But he does have a point… The cocky fuckboi would never cause all this drama, even if you ended things. This might not be such a bad idea… "Oh god, I can't believe I'm actually considering this."

Jungkook's grin spreads from ear to ear, "It's thirty days, right? When do we start?"

"Wait, wait, hold up," you say, waving your hands up in front of him, "A month of chastity training is for experienced subs. I doubt you would even last a week," you snort.

He cocks an eyebrow, "Didn't that screaming idiot downstairs last 10 days?"

"Yeah, but—"

"So you think that I can't even beat that loser?"

Fire burns in his eyes, and you sigh in dismay as you realize that you have unintentionally sparked his competitive side. "Why don't we take a week as a practice trial?" you offer, "If you can last through this week, then I'll admit that I've underestimated you."

"And?" he asks, looking expectant, "Is that it?"

"What do you mean?" you ask with a frown, "What do you want then?"

"Well, it just seems like I deserve a reward for enduring your torture for an entire week," he says with a grin, "So what do I get in return?"

You laugh as you finally catch on, "Anything you want," you easily agree, "If you can last through my chastity training for seven full days, I'll let you do whatever you want to me."

He cocks his head to the side as he considers your offer, "What if what I want is to fuck you until your legs give out?"

A sliver of arousal slides down your back. You lick your lips, "Then I would ask you whether you'd prefer me on my back or on my hands and knees…"

Jungkook's eyes darken so much that the pupil overflows his irises, "Fuck…" he curses, "When do we start? Tomorrow?"

"Why wait?"

And with that, you jump to your feet and snatch his hand to drag him off to your room, both of you immediately forgetting about the hysterical man downstairs.

***

"Here we go. This is all we need," you say as you dump a small plastic contraption on the bed next to Jungkook.

The dark-haired man picks up the translucent device with interest, "Is this the chastity cage? It doesn't look that scary."

"That's because I'm starting you on the easy level since you're new. We'll move to the steel one if you misbehave…"

"Hmm this is fine then… although—wait, did you use this on that loser?!" he asks, eyes popping open with disgust.

"Of course not," you snort, "I've never used this on anyone because I've never been nice enough to use plastic before. You should consider yourself lucky."

"Oh…" he says, "Thanks, I guess?"

You simply shake your head in response, "Let's start with some ground rules, okay? The first and most important rule is the safe word. I need to make sure that what we do together is completely consensual and if you feel uncomfortable at any time, you are more than welcome to use your safe word. I promise that I will stop whatever I'm doing as soon as I hear it, and I will do everything I can to make you feel safe and secure again."

"Damn… That sounds hardcore."

Concerned, you reach over to touch his knee, "It's not too late to back out if you want to. No judgement, I swear."

But he gives you a look as though you're crazy, "Are you serious? Why would I ever back out? No, bring on the hardcore. Give me all you've got."

Your lips twitch with amusement, "Pain and torture isn't all about whips and handcuffs and whatever other dungeon porn you're envisioning," you inform him, "Sometimes the methods can be much subtler… But every bit as torturous."

"I don't care. I'm down for anything."

You bite back the urge to laugh at his foolhardy naivety, "Ok… But don't forget that you asked for it… Although you can back out at anytime. Use colors to indicate how you're feeling. I'll check in with you occasionally, and you should say 'green' if it's okay to proceed, 'yellow' if I should slow down, and 'red' if I need to stop immediately. But you can use these color words at any time when you feel uncomfortable. Do you understand?"

"Of course," he says, "I've always had a safeword with everyone I've slept with, so this is nothing new."

You smile at that, pleased by his thoughtfulness, "That's good to hear. Now this is the chastity cage," you say, pointing to the plastic object still in his grip, "It's set to lock up your flaccid penis so that you can't get an erection. And if you try, it'll be very painful. You are to wear this cage for the entire week, except when I choose to take it off of you or when I am washing it. Do you understand?"

"Sure. That's what I expected."

"Great. Now here is the key to it," you say, reaching under your shirt to pull out a long chain from which a tiny silver key dangles as a pendant. "Only I have the ability to set you free. So don't you even bother trying to tamper with the cage."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Now are you ready to begin?"

"Hell yeah. You gonna put this cage on me now?"

"No," you say with a glimmer of a smile, "First I need to prepare you."

"Prepare me?" he says with an arched eyebrow, "How do you go about doing that?"

"Why, by emptying your balls, of course."

He starts at that, "What?"

Your lips unfurl into a wide smile, "Do you have a problem with that, sweetheart?"

"No of course not. I just didn't expect it so soon—not that I'm complaining or anything. God, that's fucking hot. Yes, princess. Do whatever you want to me."

Your smile grows in size, "I'll make you regret saying that."

He simply scoffs in response, "I'm not one of your weak, feeble-minded boytoys. I know you don't have much experience with a real man, so this might come as a surprise."

You snicker at his boasting. "I'll enjoy making you eat your words," you promise in an ominous tone as you reach over to slide both hands under his hoodie, "Now shut up and strip."

He eagerly obeys, pulling the garment straight off his head before doing the same with his t-shirt. Your eyes widen at the sculpted perfection of his lean torso and the complete confidence with which he undresses. Maybe he is a bit different than your previous lovers…

"Like what you see?" he teases when he catches your hungry gaze.

You quickly snap your eyes up to his face, "Not bad," you quip, "Now take off the rest. I wanna see what you're packing."

He doesn't hesitate to unbuckle his belt and yank his jeans and boxers off in one fell swoop. His cock proudly stands tall at once, so thick and swollen that you would've thought you'd already started the torture. He's the biggest you've ever seen and your mouth goes dry with slight trepidation.

Jungkook catches on at once, "Don't be scared, baby," he purrs, "I'll try not to hurt you."

Your eyes narrow, "You're cute to think you'll get anywhere near my pussy."

"We'll see about that… Now are you going to blow me already or…?"

"What makes you think that you deserve my mouth?" you shoot back as you reach over to lightly encircle his engorged length with two fingers. You're dismayed to find that your fingers can barely touch around his thickness.

"Mmm. Seven days, princess... Just you wait."

You tsk your tongue, "It's a good thing you're so pretty," you say as you lightly run your fingers up and down his length, "I'm really going to enjoy the next week…"

"Pretty?" he spits back in surprise, "Are you fucking high or something?"

It's obvious that the cocky man has never been described with such effeminate terms before. He's probably only had girls beg for his dick and call him 'daddy.'" A smile spreads across your face and you quickly drop to your knees to swipe your tongue across the sensitive ridge of his tip.

Jungkook's breathing falters, "Fuck… I thought you said I didn't deserve your mouth?"

"I'm feeling generous today," you say as you begin to lap at the swollen head of his cock, "Besides, how else will you know what you're missing?" And with that, you sink your mouth down on him as far as you can.

The dark-haired man throws his head back with a hiss of pleasure, both hands planted into the mattress behind him as he leans back for support, "Fuck, that's good… Oh god, I can't believe this is actually happening."

You hum around his length as you begin a harsh pace, swallowing him down and sucking so hard that his head spins.

"Shit!" he curses, hands jerking out to grab at your hair, as though to hold you in place. Later on, you'd punish him for the audacity to touch you without permission, but this time, you'll let it slide. "How are you so good at this?! Fuck, I'm close."

You briefly consider pulling off to tease him, but decide to save that for another day. It's much more fun to lull him into a false sense of security. So you lave your tongue against the base of his cock and reach down to fondle his balls.

Jungkook tips his head back and moans in such a wanton way that heat floods between your legs. God, he's so hot that you don't know who enjoys this more. Every muscle in his ridiculously toned, muscular body is strained, six-pack abs flexing with each breath and biceps bulging from the tight hold he has on your hair. And the sweat that flows across his honey skin and plasters his dark hair to his neck… You'd like nothing more to lick every drop off his tight little body. But first things first…

"Cum for me, Jungkook," you coax so sweetly as you come up for a breath before jerking forward to bury his cock down your throat until your nose is brushing his pelvis.

"Oh my god, ___!" he exclaims, hands tightening on your hair so hard that it hurts. But it's so fucking sexy that you can't help but moan over his dick, determined to suck him dry.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" he curses over and over as his eyes roll back in his head and his knuckles turn white, "Your mouth is so fucking hot. I'm gonna. I'm—oh fuck!" he practically bellows as his hips surge forward and he messily spills his seed down your throat.

You patiently massage your tongue over his twitching length until he groans from overstimulation and pulls out. Then, you lick your lips to catch the milky cum that escaped the corners of your mouth.

Jungkook groans at the sight, "Fuck, that's hot."

You laugh and rise to your feet to gather him in your arms, "Good job, baby," you coo as you rub your hands over his broad back and plant little kisses over his sweaty face, "You did so well."

Jungkook is equal parts bemused and confused, "I've never been praised for just cumming before," he pants, trying to catch his breath and slow his still-racing pulse, "This is a new one."

You giggle as you thread your hands through his mussed hair and pet him affectionately, "It's because you're so pretty when you cum," you tell him. "And you taste so good. What a good boy!"

"This is kinda weird... but I can't say I hate it," Jungkook wryly comments as he turns to allow you to nuzzle his neck.

You press your lips against the underside of his jaw to hide a smirk. If only he knew that you were just buttering him up for the slaughter… "Let's get you cleaned up so I can put the chastity cage on, okay?"

"Sure," he easily agrees, flopping over on the bed with a deep sigh of contentment as he watches you shuffle through the contents of your nightstand through bleary eyes.

You find a pack of wipes and take your time in cleaning him up, paying special attention to his soft cock lying across his thigh. Jungkook hisses softly through his teeth when you clean off the excess cum and saliva off his length, then sits up with confusion when he feels a cool sensation against his base.

"Ah, what’s that?" he asks, staring down at the plastic ring sliding down his length with wide eyes.

"This part holds the entire cage in place," you explain as you gently attempt to fold his soft length over as carefully as you can, "Does this hurt?"

"No, it's fine."

"That's good. I was afraid that it wouldn't fit," you say as you carefully slide the head of his cock into the aerated plastic cover. "It's a bit of a tight fit… But this is only more reason not to get hard."

"So I can’t get hard in this thing?" Jungkook asks with a raised brow.

"You can try," you grin, "But it might be a painful experience… I wouldn't recommend it."

"Eh, it's fine," he says with a lazy stretch of his arms over his head, "You sucked me so good, I'm totally satisfied. I won't even want another orgasm for the rest of the week."

Your lips twitch, "Are you sure of that, Jungkook?"

"Yeah. I know you see me as this crazy horndog, but I'm really not like that. I have self-control, babe. And as hot as you are, I'm not gonna lose my shit trying to hump you like a dog or something."

"Alright… Whatever you say," your tone is skeptical as you try not to laugh. He really is just so cute and naïve. "There, all done," you say as you slide the lock around the cage and give it a little kiss. "Like I said before, only I have the key so don't even bother trying to escape."

"All I gotta do is wear this for a week?" Jungkook asks as he touches the device with curiosity, "No big deal."

"I don't think you're understanding, baby boy," you say, voice hardening, "This cage is just a symbol. But your cock now belongs to me. I get to choose what I want to do with you whenever I want. You are mine. Do you understand?"

"Y-yeah," he stammers, eyes as wide as saucers, "Fuck yeah."

"Good boy," you coo as you hug him to your chest and kiss the top of his head, "Now put your clothes back on and get out of my room."

"Wait, what?! ___, I thought—"

You ignore him to gather his clothes and throw them on the bed, "Don't make me repeat myself."

Gulping at the warning in your voice, he hurries to obey, "I just… I don't understand. Don't you want me to reciprocate first or something?" he asks, wincing when the fabric of his pants brushes his caged penis.

"Oh, sweetheart," you sigh as you cup his face in both hands, "I don't think you're fully understanding… So let me explain one more time: I am in control here, understand? I will decide when and if you get to put your filthy hands on my body. You did good today, but not nearly good enough to get a taste of my pussy. If you continue to perform so well, I might feel generous. But I call every shot here, got it?"

"Yes, ma'am," he automatically chirps.

His obedience pleases you, "What a good boy," you gush as you give his cheeks a little squeeze, "I think I'm going to thoroughly enjoy the next week… Now get out of my sight."

Jungkook ogles at you in surprise, even as he rushes to yank on his shirt, "Wait, but ___! When will I see you again?!"

"Sometime tomorrow… Whenever I feel like it."

"But, ___!" he complains, "I—"

But you've already shoved him out the door. What an interesting start to Jungkook's week of chastity… Only, you fear that he might be too comfortable. Next time he leaves your bedroom, you'll have to make sure that he's in tears.

You lick your lips at the image. Oh, this is going to be so much fun.

***

A/N: Please don’t ask me about updates! 

[duhragonball]

Dragon Ball Z 129

Last time, it looked like Goku had turned the tables on the Androids and was on track to rout them completely, but then he started having heart problems.

Krillin thinks that it must be the androids stealing Goku’s energy somehow, so he tosses him a senzu bean, because that fixed Yamcha when it happened to him.    Only Goku takes the bean and it doesn’t help him at all.  

But how could it be the heart virus?   Trunks gave Goku medicine to cure it, right?   Well, Gohan explains that Goku never got sick, so he never took the medicine.    That always seemed kind of fishy to me.    You’d think Goku would have just taken the medicine anyway, if only to be on the safe side, but Trunks specifically told him to wait until he experienced symptoms.    If he had taken it last year, he’d still be getting sick now, and he wouldn’t have the medicine anymore.    So it’s good that he waited, but the timing on this stinks.    The androids aren’t exactly going to let him clock out early.  

Soon enough, Goku’s Super Saiyan form fades out, and 19 jumps on top of him.   Goku’s completely helpless now. 

And now 19 is grabbing him by the throat to steal his energy. 

The others move in to help, but #20 is there to stop them.   When Piccolo tries to go through him, 20 zaps him with eye lasers and he collapses.  

So the Z-Fighters seem to be out of options now.   Goku’s getting murdered by 19, and the only way they can help him is to beat 19 and 20 just to get near him.   Piccolo was one of their top guys, and he failed within seconds.   

Suddenly, it’s starting to look an awful lot like the dark future Trunks came from.   The androids are unbeatable, and once they finish off the strongest fighters, it’ll only be a matter of time before they destroy the rest.    Z stands for the end. 

But not yet.

Turns out Vegeta’s been lurking nearby for a while now.    He just saved Goku’s ass, not because he cares about his well-being, but because he claims the right to kill Goku for himself.    As for Piccolo, turns out he was playing possum.   #20 hit him, but not hard enough to take him out, so Piccolo was hoping to play dead and slip past him while he was distracted.   Turns out now that there was no need.  

Geets scolds Goku for using his Super Saiyan form while ill, since the transformation could only make things worse for his heart.   Then he kicks Goku over to Piccolo.

Then he tells them to take Goku home so he can get that medicine he got from the guy from the future.  

Yamcha volunteers, since he knows he wouldn’t do much good in the battle anyway.   Piccolo warns him that the hear virus might be contagious.   Well, shouldn’t Gohan take some medicine too, then?   He’s been living with the man.

19 is ready to chase after Yamcha, but 20 asks him to hold off.   This seems strange to me, since 20 just got done explaining how their primary objective is to kill Goku, but he seems to want to take out all of his allies first.    Maybe the virus situation has changed his outlook.    Why waste time pursuing Goku when he might die anyway?   Besides, they can always hunt him down later.  

Meanwhile, baby Trunks pees on Yajirobe.

There’s kind of a Tomoko Higashikata vibe to Bulma in this episode, and I like it.   Anyway, she wants to fly out to the battlefield and get a look at the androids.   Yajirobe wants nothing to do with it, but she calls him a chicken and I guess he figures he needs to save face in front of the baby.  

Back at the battle, Krillin suggests that they might want to think about retreating until Goku recovers.   This is looking way too much like the scenario Future Trunks described, so it doesn’t make much sense for them to play along until the end.    Besides, what good can Vegeta do when 19 already proved he can hang with a Super Saiyan?    The others argue that circumstances have already changed from what Trunks predicted, so that proves that they may still have a chance.    But Krillin is still nervous about this.    The only certainty here is that he’s in over his head.

19 asks permission to take out Vegeta, and 20 agrees, claiming the others for himself.   But Vegeta’s not impressed.   He’s seen what 19 can do, and he figures he can win easily, as long as he doesn’t come down with any heart viruses. 

19 feels the same way about Vegeta, since he has an extensive data file on him as well.  

Wait, did Vegeta just call him ‘Goku?’  In the subs?   Wow.  

Anyway, yeah, the androids were surprised to see Goku turn Super Saiyan, but so what?   It’s not like Vegeta can do it too, so--

BOI HE BOUT TO DO IT

Oh FUCK YEAH.

So here’s why this moment matters so much.   I was sure Vegeta could never pull this off, at least not without a major attitude adjustment.   The whole moral of the Frieza Saga seemed to be that Goku could do it because he was the one Saiyan who hadn’t been corrupted by cruelty and violence.    He turned Super Saiyan because he cared about other people, and Frieza was killing them all.   Vegeta acted like he could just pull some extra hours in the gym and do the same thing, when that was clearly not the point.  

Plus there was all that noise about having a pure heart.   That was never part of the legend, but it was part of Goku’s legend.   So it just made sense that you had to be a Saiyan “pure of heart” to transform, since Goku was.    Well Vegta’s heart was pure.    Pure evil.  

Look at this cocky bastard.    He’s got the glowy yellow everything and he’s wearing his blue bad guy suit and everything about this just looks so wrong.   And it’s friggin’ awesome, because now Goku has much bigger things to worry about then these darn ol’ androids.    Once they’re out of the way, Goku will finally have to settle things with Vegeta, because now they’re on even terms.  

The anime provides some insight into how Vegeta pulled this off.    He took Capsule 3 into space, apparently to the cover art of Metallica’s “Ride the Lightning” album.  This wasn’t in the manga, but it makes sense.    If Vegeta had figured out how to turn Super Saiyan on Earth, the Z-Fighters would have already sensed it when it happened.    The only way they could be surprised now is if he had been light years away when he figured it out.  

But the key ingredient, it sems, isn’t “purity” or calmness, or any of that other touchy-feely bullshit.    It’s anger, specifically anger at onesself.  In that moment of truth, Vegeta finally realized that he had reached his limit, and that he’d never be able to train his way to Super Saiyan, which meant that he’d never surpass Goku.   And who could he blame for this except himself.

I’d say this is pretty much how it went for Goku.   It wasn’t anger at Frieza for killing Krillin so much as his anger at himself for failing to prevent it.   And then Frieza said he would kill Gohan and Goku knew he would be helpless to prevent that as well.   Vegeta’s problem is that he’s so arrogant and sure of himself that he almost never lets himself down.   He never got angry at himself, and that was what was holding him back.    And maybe, just maybe, he spared a thought for his infant son and his baby-mamma back home.  

But those are just details.   The headline is that Vegeta’s back on top, as he always believed himself to be.    I get a big kick out of this.    People in life will tell you that you can’t.    They think they know better because they have reasons why you can’t, and maybe they make some sense.   They’ll say you aren’t as good as the other guy, because you’re not “pure of heart” or “calm” or “still” or some other nonsense.    They’ll say you’re not nice enough, or that you don’t smile enough, or that you don’t agree with every dumbass thing everyone else  says.    They’ll say that you’re too much like you to succeed.    If only you weren’t you, because that’s what’s holding you back.   Why can’t you be more like some orange hillbilly that you can’t stand?    Then you’d really be on fire.   

The nicest thing my mother ever said about me was when one of the parents of her kindergarten students expressed concern about her kid not participating in certain activities.   My mom used me as an example, and said that her son grew up to be a chemist, and had a pretty decent career, and he never once did the hokey pokey.   And that’s the truth.   There are people who think that if you don’t do the hokey pokey--and enjoy it--that you’re all wrong.   They don’t realize how stupid that sounds. 

Well screw ‘em.   You may take longer to get where you want to be, and you may follow a different path, one that others might consider “evil”.   But it doesn’t matter, because when you finally pull it off, you’ll look back and know that you did it by being you, not by pretending to be something you’re not.   And then you’ll hold out your fist, open it, and declare that the sleeper has awakened, I am the Prince of All Saiyans once again.  

Then a robot clown will shoot lasers at you and everything will turn all pink, because dignity is a fleeting thing in this life.    Savor it while you can.