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summary: john takes care of you afterwards
tags/trigger warnings: 18+, aftercare, fluff, sweet sex, p in v, bubble baths, massages, praise, did i say fluff?
wc: 817
MASTERLIST
With your cheek squished into the pillow below you, your back arched like a cat, chest pressed into the mattress as you lifted your hips high into the air, wiggling your ass your good measure as John pounded into you from above with deep grunts escaping from his lips.
You moaned out, smiling to yourself as you did. You bit your lip, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as you neared your release.
A low growl emitted from his throat, feeling the heat of your body, the tightness of your core enveloping him as your movements became erratic underneath him. John Price's muscles tensed, his grip on your hips becoming firmer, fingers digging in slightly as he watched your expressions.
"Come for me, love," he grunted, pushing himself deeper, relishing the sensations coursing through him. As you reached your climax, your walls contracted around him, Price closed his eyes, feeling the intensity build-up, and followed suit moments later, letting out a guttural moan.
Afterward, as your breathing slowed and your body relaxed beneath him, John pulled out carefully and collapsed beside you. He ran his thumb along the curve of your waist, feeling the slight tremble in your body as you came down from your high. With a satisfied sigh, he leaned over and gently kissed your shoulder.
“I love you,” he murmured, his voice a husky rumble in the quiet room. He didn’t need to say more. Instead, John rose from the bed, his muscles protesting slightly from the exertion. He moved purposefully towards the en-suite bathroom, turning the taps on to draw a warm bath. While the tub filled, he grabbed a bottle of your favorite lavender-scented bath oil from the cabinet and poured a generous amount under the running water, watching the steam rise and carry the calming fragrance throughout the space.
“Care for a soak?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder at you with a roguish grin. He wanted to ensure you were well cared for after their intense encounter. Once you agreed, John slipped into his robe and picked up his phone to order some food from your favorite local spot—something spicy and rich, knowing it would hit the spot after a day of action and stress.
With a nod, John walked back into the room, his bare feet padding on the plush carpet. He helped you to your feet, his strong hands steadying you as you stepped into the warm water. He watched you sink into the tub with a sigh of contentment. The water lapped at your chest, and he couldn't resist leaning down to kiss your forehead tenderly.
"Stay put," he instructed, his tone gentle yet firm. "I'll be right back." A few minutes later, he returned with a steaming cup of chamomile tea and a plate of warm scones with clotted cream and strawberry jam—your favorite. Setting the treats on the bathroom counter, he climbed into the tub behind you, pulling your back against his chest.
The warmth of the water and the sweet scent of lavender enveloped you both as he wrapped his arms around your waist. He could feel you relax further into his embrace, your head resting against his shoulder as you sipped your tea.
"Better?" he asked, a hint of concern in his voice. After you finished your snack, he massaged your shoulders, working his thumbs in slow circles across the taut muscles. He could feel the tension melting away under his touch, replaced by a contented sigh.
As you grew sleepy, John picked up a washcloth and gently cleaned your body, paying particular attention to every curve and line. Afterward, he helped you out of the tub and wrapped you in a fluffy towel before carrying you back to bed. Carefully setting you down on the soft mattress, John couldn't help but admire the sight of your damp skin glistening in the room's dim light. He felt a surge of tenderness wash over him, a stark contrast to the battle-hardened exterior he usually wore.
As he climbed into bed beside you, he reached over to turn off the lamp, enveloping the room in darkness. He pulled the covers up to your chin and drew you close, feeling the rhythm of your breathing sync with his own. With a sigh, he brushed a strand of wet hair from your face, his calloused fingers lingering on your cheek.
"Rest now," he whispered, his voice a soothing balm to the silence. It wasn't long before your breathing deepened, and he knew you were fast asleep. He smiled softly, relishing the feeling of your warmth against him. John tightened his arm around your middle, burying his nose in your hair and breathing deep, allowing your scent to consume his senses. He slowly allowed himself to succumb to his exhaustion, promising himself that no matter what, he’ll always be there to take care of you.
summary: you both have needed some stress relief good thing your man has the perfect remedy
tags/trigger warnings: 18+, f!reader, face sitting, cunnilingus, praise, stress relief
wc: 2.3k
MASTERLIST
The sweltering heat of mid-summer enveloped you as you stood in your dusty backyard in West Texas. The sun hung high in the sky, its relentless rays pouring down like molten gold, wrapping you in warmth. You balanced precariously on your toes, stretching to reach the wooden clothesline that sagged under the weight of the humid air. With each clothespin, you secured the damp fabric—its fibers still heavy from the wash—hanging them in a colorful line that fluttered gently, eager for the breeze to take hold.
After a long day tackling household chores that seemed never-ending, fatigue washed over you like the dew settling on the grass at dawn. Sweat trickled down your forehead and dripped from your chin, creating a sheen that glistened on your tanned skin. The air was thick and muggy, wrapping around you like a warm blanket, and you could feel the relentless sun creating that familiar weight in the pit of your stomach, urging you to seek shade and a reprieve from the day’s demands.
A sudden chorus of sharp barks erupted into the stillness of the afternoon, cutting through the air like a warning bell. You felt a thrill of anticipation as the rhythmic sound of hooves clattering against the grass reached your ears, stirring a smile on your lips. Rounding the corner, you caught sight of your "husband," Arthur Morgan, as he gracefully dismounted from his sturdy horse. He landed with a soft thud on the ground, letting out a weary sigh that hinted at the long day behind him. His presence, strong and rugged against the backdrop of the setting sun, filled you with warmth and a sense of home.
As you approached, Arthur turned towards you, his soft blue eyes locking onto yours, a slight smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. Seeing you instantly eased some of the tension etched on his face. He removed his dusty hat, revealing a mess of sweat-soaked brown hair, and ran a calloused hand through the tangled strands.
“Looks like you’ve had a fair share of work yourself,” he said, his voice gruff yet tender. He walked towards you, closing the distance between you two, and brushed a strand of sweat-dampened hair off your forehead, tucking it gently behind your ear.
“C’mon inside,” he offered, his hand resting lightly on your lower back, “I think we both could use a bit of relaxation.” As you entered your home's cool refuge, Arthur took a deep breath, surveying the room.
Guiding you to the small bedroom at the back of the house, Arthur closed the door behind him, allowing the sounds of the world outside to fade into a distant hum. The room was dimly lit by a single candle burning on the nightstand, casting dancing shadows across the wooden floorboards. He moved closer, his gaze never leaving yours.
You gently pressed your palm against his chest, stopping him in his tracks. “Maybe we should wash up first,” you proposed, your voice slow and deliberate. The remnants of sweat clung to your skin, a sticky reminder of the heat, and you couldn’t shake the feeling of discomfort that came with it.
Arthur's gaze drifted downward, resting on your hand gently pressed against his chest. His expression was a mask of stoicism, revealing nothing as his intense eyes locked onto yours. The moment felt charged with a tension that lingered in the air between you.
“I want ya’ now,” he declared, his voice low and intense as he pressed his hand over yours. His fingers curled possessively around yours before he gently pulled your hand away.
Arthur moved closer, a hand resting on your waist as he gently guided you back toward the bed. The softness of the bedding awaited you, creating an inviting contrast to the moment's intensity. His presence felt warm and enveloping, heightening the tension as he leaned in, bringing you closer together.
The need for release and the desire to forget the world's harsh realities had consumed him, even for a moment. Arthur's hands trailed down your arms, his strong fingers gripping your hips and pulling you closer until you could feel the heat radiating from his body. He paused, looking deep into your eyes, silently asking for your consent.
He inhaled sharply, the scent of your skin mingling with the sweat and earthy aroma of the day's work, strangely alluring in its simplicity. Arthur leaned forward, brushing his lips against your neck, his tongue tracing a wet path toward your ear. He whispered huskily, "Let me take care of ya'.” he pleaded. “Let me help ya’ relax." With a gentle push, he guided you onto the edge of the bed, his fingers slowly working on undoing the buttons of your dress.
His actions were unhurried yet deliberate, each touch and kiss filled with a palpable hunger between you two. Arthur's breath hitched as your dress fell open, revealing the skin beneath. He pulled you to stand, sliding the fabric down your arms until it pooled at your feet. He stepped back, drinking in your sight, allowing the heat between you to build further. His hands roamed over your exposed flesh, feeling the goosebumps rise under his touch. Finally, with a low groan, he leaned in, capturing your lips in a searing kiss as he guided you back onto the mattress.
The world outside seemed to disappear as his tongue sought yours, a dance filled with promise and passion. Arthur's calloused hands skimmed across your thighs, pushing aside the last barriers between you. He could feel the dampness gathering between your legs, his desire straining against his trousers. Breaking away, he gazed into your eyes.
"I reckon we both need this," he muttered, his voice gruff with want as he stood to undress himself. His fingers worked on his belt buckle with practiced ease, each movement deliberate and unhurried. His shirt came off next, revealing the hard planes of his chest and the tapestry of scars that mapped out his life's story.
Arthur's gaze never left yours, watching the hunger grow in your eyes as he exposed himself to you. Stepping out of his trousers, he returned to the bed, his naked form a testament to the raw masculinity that made up this rugged man. Sliding back onto the bed, Arthur positioned himself between your thighs, his gaze locked onto yours as his hands gently parted them. He lowered his head, pressing featherlight kisses along your inner thighs, teasing your sensitive flesh.
You could see his desire burning bright in his eyes, contrasting his usually guarded demeanor. His warm breath tickled your sensitive area, making you squirm in anticipation. Savoring the sight of your flushed skin and how your chest rose and fell with each ragged breath you took, he didn’t waste any time, diving right in to taste the sweetness he knew awaited him.
His tongue swirled and dipped, eliciting a moan from your lips as he explored your folds. Arthur loved how you reacted to him, your body tensing and releasing as he pleasured you. It made him feel powerful and needed, something he craved deep down. His fingers joined the dance, massaging your thighs before sliding further up to caress your breasts. He kneaded and pinched your nipples gently, feeling you writhe beneath him as the sensations built. Each sound you made only drove him further, pushing him to make you feel even better.
As he continued, Arthur could feel himself getting harder, his need for you almost unbearable. He knew you were close, your body quivering and muscles tensing around his tongue. He redoubled his efforts, wanting nothing more than to watch you fall apart in pleasure.
"Mmm...you taste so good," he growled against your skin, causing you to shudder in delight. His stubbled cheeks grazed your sensitive thighs as he continued to explore your cunt with his tongue, savoring every gasp and moan that escaped your lips. His hands wandered higher, gripping your waist firmly to keep you in place while his thumbs traced lazy patterns over your lower abdomen, heightening the sensitivity of every nerve ending.
He felt your legs tremble, your breaths turning shallow and erratic. Arthur knew you were on the precipice, so he slowed, drawing out the delicious torment. He wanted to savor this moment, to remind himself why he fought so hard to survive each day. He glanced up, watching your face contort in ecstasy as he finally brought you over the edge. Your nails dug into his shoulders as your body convulsed, riding wave after wave of pure bliss.
Arthur pulled back only when your breathing evened out, his chin glistening with evidence of his desire for you. He gave you a smug grin, his blue eyes darkened with lust. "Feelin' better?" he asked, his voice rough and husky. You nodded slowly, a dopey grin spreading across your face as you tried to steady your breath. Your heart raced as you gazed down at him, feeling a mix of exhilaration and affection that made the moment feel almost surreal.
“I want to be on top,” you confessed; gently running your fingers through his damp hair, you pushed it backward, feeling the warmth of his scalp beneath your nails as they glided effortlessly over his skin. The soft strands, slightly tousled from the moisture, slipped through your fingers, creating a soothing rhythm that sent a shiver down your spine.
Arthur raised an eyebrow at your request, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. After switching your positions, he sat back, allowing you to take control, and watched as you positioned yourself over him, straddling his lap.
“Can I…” you began, a warm flush creeping to your cheeks as you kept your gaze locked on him. Your eyes lingered on the curve of his nose, tracing the rugged outline and drifting down to his lips.
He nodded, his smirk growing wider. "Go ahead," he said gruffly, his voice barely above a whisper as he reached out to caress your cheek with the back of his hand. His thumb brushed against your lower lip, gently urging it open before tracing its contours.
You swallowed, climbing up his body until your thighs encompassed his face, your bottom hovering over his chest as your hands grasped the wooden headboard, giving you balance and offering support for the pleasure that was to come.
Arthur's hands slid to your thighs, gripping them firmly, guiding you into position. Your wetness brushing against his lips sent a jolt through him. He leaned forward, parting your folds with his tongue, exploring your most intimate spaces with a newfound hunger. He tasted saltwater, sweat, and a faint trace of your arousal—an intoxicating mix that only fueled his desire.
His fingers flexed against your skin, holding you close as he indulged himself. Arthur's eyes fluttered shut, focusing solely on the feeling of your body against his mouth, the soft moans that escaped your lips, and the sweet taste of you. His tongue moved with deliberate strokes, teasing your sensitive spots until your hips began to rock back and forth in response. Arthur's hands tightened on your thighs as you moved above him, guiding you with gentle yet firm pressure. He could feel the tension building within you, each gasp and moan urging him onward. One hand moved up, thumb tracing lazy circles around your clitoris, while his tongue delved deeper, probing and swirling.
"Mmm..." Arthur hummed low in approval, the vibrations sending another wave of pleasure coursing through you. His fingers dug into your thighs slightly, urging you closer as he continued to lavish attention on your clitoris. His tongue swirled around it before dipping lower, exploring the wetness between your thighs with an insistent hunger. He savored each moan and whimper, his desire growing with each passing second. Feeling the tension in your thighs increase as your body responded to his ministrations, he pressed a finger inside you, moving in rhythm with his tongue, curling it just to hit that spot that made your breath hitch.
"Ride my face," he commanded, his voice rough with lust as he said your name. He opened his eyes to watch your reactions—the flush spreading across your chest, the way your nipples hardened under the cool air, and the unmistakable pleasure etched on your face. With a sultry moan, you obliged, grinding yourself against Arthur’s mouth, savoring the exquisite friction he created.
He held onto your thighs tighter, adjusting his position slightly to accommodate your movements. His finger steadily moved in and out of you, curling each time to massage that sensitive spot. His other hand found its way to your hip, guiding you with gentle yet firm pressure. He could feel your muscles tensing around him as you rode his face, your moans growing louder, more insistent. Arthur reveled in the sight and sounds of your pleasure—it was like a drug, and he was already addicted.
His mind fogged with lust as he watched your breasts rise and fall with each ragged breath. He increased his pace, tongue, and finger, working together in perfect harmony. His gaze never left yours, the fire in your eyes driving him wild.
"That's it, darlin'," he rasped encouragingly, his breaths growing shallower. He could sense your orgasm building, feel it in the way your body moved against him. With one final push, he sent you over the edge, drinking in your cries of ecstasy as you came apart in his hands. He didn’t stop until every last tremor had subsided, leaving you panting and spent against him.
Reluctantly, he released your thighs, allowing you to slide down his body until you were cradled against his chest. Arthur brushed a stray lock of hair from your face, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead as you caught your breath. You yelped and were suddenly lifted into the air bridal style. Arthur carried you into the washroom, his steps slapping against the hardwood floor.
“Let me clean ya’ up,” he grunted, setting you down as he filled the tub with water. “Then I’ll get ta’ have ya’ again.”
summary: hubby fucks you so good you cry
tags/trigger warnings: 18+, f!reader, p in v, crying, degradation, praise, rough sex, dacryphilia, mean!könig, but also sweet?könig, dom!könig, sub!reader, author tries really hard at accents
wc: 1.3k
MASTERLIST
König loomed over you, his hands perched on your hips, pulling you backward to meet his brutal thrusts. Your pussy was stretched painfully wide to accommodate his girth, his length spearing in and out of you at a ruthless speed. His hand found its way into your hair, pushing your cheek into your pillow. His grip tightened, his growls deepening, his balls smacking lewdly against your clit as he used you for his pleasure.
König perched his leg upwards, now kneeling behind your more diminutive form as he fucked into you at a new angle that made your vision go white with pure ecstasy.
A choked sob escaped your lips, heavy and caught in your throat, as an overwhelming pressure surged deep within your chest. Your heart raced, your chest heaving with every breath you took, and tears cascaded down your cheeks, warm and relentless.
"Ahh, you feel so good, meine Kleine..." he groaned, his voice strained and husky. He reveled in the feeling of your tightness around him, your body quivering beneath his powerful thrusts. His fingers flexed in your hair, guiding your head further into the pillow as he leaned over you, his muscular chest pressing against your back.
He paused momentarily, allowing you to adjust to the new angle, then began moving again—this time harder, faster. His hips rocked against yours, his heavy breaths hot against your neck. He could feel your tears wetting the pillowcase beneath your face, but his arousal was too great to care about any emotional turmoil you might be experiencing. He needed to claim you, to mark you as his own. His cock swelled inside you, and his tempo increased.
His hand trailed down your spine, resting at the base of your back, holding you firmly against him. His thrusts grew more forceful, almost violent in nature. He knew you could take it—he'd seen you do it before.
With every one of your sobs, König's thrusts became more powerful, his grip on your hip tightening as he continued to ravage you. His teeth sank into your shoulder, eliciting a muffled cry from your lips, the pain adding fuel to the fire of his lust.
He pulled almost completely out before slamming back into you, the impact making your whole body jolt forward. His breathing grew ragged as his orgasm loomed near, his muscles tensing with anticipation. His fingers dug into your skin as he began to pound into you mercilessly, his hips moving with a wild abandon.
He leaned close to your ear, whispering, "Vhat are you? Mine, yes?" He sought validation, needed it, as his control started to slip. He wanted to hear you admit it, to acknowledge that you belonged to him and no one else. The room was filled with the sound of flesh meeting flesh, punctuated by your cries and his harsh breaths. "Say it..." he demanded, his voice strained, as he continued his relentless assault.
König's thrusts intensified, each one hitting deep inside you, causing waves of pleasure mixed with pain that sent your senses spiraling. His teeth grazed your neck, sending shivers down your spine, as he sought to regain control of the situation. His cock throbbed inside you, his climax approaching rapidly.
"Vhat are you?" he asked again, more insistent this time. "Mine, aren't you?" He needed to hear it, to know that he had complete dominance over your being. He reached around with one hand, finding your clit and beginning to rub it roughly, ignoring any signs of protest or pain.
"Answer me!" His fingers worked furiously, pushing you closer to the edge. His breaths came in short, and staccato burst against your neck.
“M’yours!” You sobbed, crying out as he landed sharp blows to your ass, the smacks ricocheting off the walls and into your ears.
"Ja, meine Kleine..." he growled in approval, feeling his orgasm build further at your submission. His thrusts became erratic, each one more powerful than the last.
He continued to spank you, each slap echoing through the room as he drove deeper inside you. His grip on your hip tightened, leaving bruises that would bloom later. He wanted you to remember this moment—to recall who owned you every time you sat down or moved. The thought sent another surge of desire coursing through his veins.
"Scream for me..." he commanded, his voice low and guttural. His fingers circled your clit relentlessly, applying pressure until you cried out again, your body tensing beneath him. He knew you were close—he could feel how your muscles contracted around him. With one final, brutal thrust, he pushed you over the edge, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave.
König followed suit, his release exploding with a primal roar that shook the very foundations of the building. His cock pulsed inside you, filling you with hot semen.
"Mine," he growled triumphantly as he rode out the last waves of pleasure before collapsing onto the bed beside you, his breaths heavy and labored.
König gripped your face in his rough hand, squishing your cheeks together until your lips puckered childishly. He pulled you toward him, ignoring your whimper in pain. He lowered his hand to your upper neck, controlling your head movements before leaning forward and dragging his tongue over your damp skin, collecting the salty tears into his mouth, drinking your essence with a groan of pleasure. “So pretty,”
"Shh... it's okay, meine Schatz..." he said soothingly, pulling you close and pressing a tender kiss to your temple. He didn't enjoy causing you pain—it merely served to heighten his pleasure. He wrapped his strong arms around you, holding you securely against his broad chest as your sobs subsided into quiet whimpers.
He could feel your rapid heartbeat slowing, your breathing evening out. His gaze shifted to your reddened ass, where his handprints still lingered. A sense of pride swelled within him—a reminder of his possession. He pulled the covers over you both, his cock still semi-hard inside you.
"Get some rest..." he murmured, his voice gruff with satisfaction. König stroked your hair gently, his eyes never leaving your face as you slept.
Kinktober Day XXIV: Sensory Deprivation/Sensory Play
summary: you both decided it’s time to spice things up
tags/trigger warnings: 18+, f!reader, p in v, handjobs, oral sex (m!receiving), degradation, praise, rough sex, dom!reader, sub!kyle, author attempts at accents
wc: 6.1k
MASTERLIST
Kneeling on the soft, yielding mattress, you found your balance by gently grasping Kyle’s shoulders. The plush fabric dipped beneath your weight as you leaned in closer, feeling the warmth of his skin under your fingertips.
His body was slouched on the edge of the bed, the faded light casting shadows on the floor. With a slow, deliberate movement, he leaned forward, his fingers brushing against the cool surface of the nightstand. He picked up a piece of sleek black fabric, its texture smooth to the touch. With an intent gaze, he handed it to you, your fingers brushing together.
“You ready?” you inquired, your voice tinged with playful anticipation as you took the soft cloth in your hands. With a subtle nod of agreement from him, you carefully draped it over his eyes, the fabric smooth against his skin as it obscured his vision. You deftly tightened the material at the back of his head, securing it with a delicate bow that fluttered slightly with your movements. Seeing it made a warm smile spread across your face, a mix of affection and excitement for what you were about to do.
Kyle let out a deep breath, sitting upright on the bed, the muscles in his chest rippling under the dim light. His heart rate remained steady, betraying none of the nervous energy that might have.
His breath caught ever so slightly as the last sliver of light disappeared, leaving only the gentle pressure of the blindfold against his eyes. The softness of the blindfold felt foreign yet comforting against his face, and the sudden darkness heightened his other senses. Every sound seemed amplified: your breaths, the rustle of your clothes, the distant hum of the life outside. Kyle's mind raced with possibilities, wondering what sensory experience you had planned for him.
He ran his fingers over the duvet beneath him, the texture familiar and reassuring. The room fell quiet save for the steady rhythm of your movements. He could hear your footsteps as you left him on the bed, each step a soft thud against the floorboards. Kyle swallowed, his heartbeat quickening despite his best efforts to maintain control.
As the silence stretched out, Kyle’s breathing slowed, falling into an easy rhythm that belied his excitement. The cool air whispered against his bare skin, sending goosebumps trailing his arms and legs. He waited patiently, listening attentively for your return, his body coiled like a spring ready to release its tension. He reached out blindly when you came back within reach, trying to gauge where you were. His hand brushed against your thigh, and he smiled, feeling the softness of your skin against his calloused fingers. “You’re being so quiet,” he finally spoke, his voice low and steady.
“Don’t be nervous,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. You touched his chest reassuringly, feeling the steady heartbeat beneath your palm. Gently, you guided him backward, tilting his body just the right way until his head sank comfortably into the plush pillows. The soft fabric cradled his head, allowing him to relax fully as you watched the tension in his shoulders begin to ease.
“I’m not,” he replied, his voice calm and measured, though a hint of uncertainty lingered. “Just…curious.” Kyle’s palms rested on the mattress, his fingers curling around the fabric as if seeking some form of grounding in this new world of darkness. His heightened senses picked up the scent of lavender and vanilla in the room, mingling with the subtle muskiness of your perfume. It was intoxicating.
“You’re so brave,” you cooed teasingly, adjusting your legs to rest on each side of his body, sitting on his stomach with your hands planted on his chest. You scooted backward until your ass sat firmly over his growing erection, wiggling your hips with a pleased exhale.
The weight of your body pressing down on him sent a shiver through him, and a quiet groan escaped his lips, his muscles tensing beneath you. He swallowed again, adjusting to the sensation of your body against his. A faint smile played on his lips, his teeth gleaming in the dim light.
“Thank you,” Kyle murmured, his fingers flexing against the mattress. He closed his eyes tighter beneath the blindfold, focusing on your body's warmth and the scent surrounding him.
“Give me your hands,” you instructed before digging into the bedside table, rocking your hips over his straining cock as you did so. The clink of metal cuffs echoed through the silence.
Raising his hands without hesitation, Kyle offered them to you. He felt a strange mix of anticipation and excitement course through his veins as the cold metal of the cuffs encircled his wrists, followed by the soft click of them locking into place. The thought of relinquishing control of being bound and at your mercy sent a thrill straight to his core. He swallowed hard, his throat dry as he tested the strength of his restraints. The cool metal dug into his skin, sending another shiver of lust up his spine.
“Now what?” Kyle inquired, his voice low and hesitant, tinged with a shy uncertainty that made his words almost a whisper.
“Just relax,” you answered, placing a delicate palm on his cheek and rubbing your thumb over his bottom lip. Your eyes danced over his face before drifting down the naked expanse of his body, only his boxers keeping him from being completely nude.
Kyle took a deep breath and let it out slowly, his nostrils flaring as he tried to calm his rapid heartbeat, but you could feel it pumping underneath your palm.
He allowed his head to fall back onto the pillow again, his muscles relaxing under the weight of your hand. His lips parted slightly, tongue darting out to wet them as he savored the sensation of your thumb grazing his lower lip.
“I trust you,” Kyle breathed, his eyes still hidden beneath the blindfold, his gaze locked on an invisible point above him.
“Good,” you answered, dragging your hands up and down his body, massaging his tense muscles, and appreciating every dip and curve. Every scar and hard line was traced over and back up again. Goosebumps rose along Kyle’s arms as you traced the contours of his body. He shuddered under your touch, the combination of your hands on his skin and the anticipation of what was to come nearly driving him mad with desire. Each stroke of your fingertips over his scars sent a rush of warmth through him, a reminder of the life he had chosen and the battles he had fought and won.
Kyle let out a soft moan as your hands continued to explore, his body responding instinctively to your touch. He imagined each caress as a whispered promise, a secret map leading to an explosive release. His breath hitched as you reached his chest, your nails lightly raking across his nipples, sending bolts of pleasure radiating throughout his body. His muscles tightened involuntarily, and he arched upwards, seeking more contact.
Kyle breathed your name, his voice hoarse and needy. He was acutely aware of every movement you made, every sound you uttered, his senses heightened by his blindfolded state. He craved more, yearned for your touch to move lower, to finally free him from the confines of his boxers and grant him the relief he so desperately sought.
“Yes?” you replied, a playful smile tugging at your lips as you leaned closer. Your hair cascaded past your face, the soft strands brushing against his skin, creating an intimate barrier between you. With a gentle motion, you tucked a wayward strand behind your ear, your breath warm and inviting. You dipped your head just enough so that your nose lightly brushed against his, the thrill of proximity electric in the air, your lips tantalizingly close, mere centimeters apart.
He could almost taste you, feel the warmth of your smile. His breath caught in his throat, and his entire body became taut. He longed to close the distance, to claim your mouth in a searing kiss, but he knew better than to break the rules.
“Please,” Kyle uttered softly, barely audible in the quiet room. He didn’t know precisely what he was asking for, but he knew that he needed something – anything – to quell the rising tide of lust threatening to consume him.
“Please, what?” You teased, giggling softly before placing a kiss on the corner of his mouth, your fingers trailing underneath the waistband of his underwear.
Kyle’s heart pounded harder as you teased him with that kiss, your laughter music to his ears. He felt a rush of heat flood his cheeks and chest at your teasing tone. “Please,” he repeated, his voice strained, “touch me...” He craved your fingers on his bare skin and wanted to feel your touch on his most intimate areas. The anticipation was agonizing, but the thought of disappointing you was unbearable. Kyle’s breath hitched as you traced the waistband of his boxers, his pulse quickening in anticipation. He bit his bottom lip, trying to remain silent, to show you that he could handle this game of restraint, even if every fiber of his being screamed for release.
His thoughts raced as you tantalized him, every nerve ending on high alert. The sensation of your breath on his skin, the softness of your lips so close to his, and the sound of your laughter was overwhelming. He felt exposed and vulnerable, but at that moment, Kyle realized he trusted you more than anyone he had ever been with. He was yours to command, your plaything, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.
“I am touching you,” you hummed, dragging your fingers away from his groin and back up his sternum, tracing your nails over the lines of his abdomen.
Chuckling, Kyle relaxed slightly, allowing himself to enjoy the sensations of your fingers dancing over his skin, each scrape of your nails sending shivers down his spine.
“Yes, you are,” he admitted, the hint of frustration in his tone clear, “but I meant...” He trailed off, biting his lip harder. Kyle knew what he wanted, but he struggled to express it, not used to being so open with his desires. After a beat, he continued, his voice deeper, huskier, “I meant...I want you to touch me...there,” he whispered, bucking his hips against you.
The thought of your hands on him there, exploring and teasing, was almost too much for him to handle. Despite his nerves, he couldn’t deny the excitement coursing through his veins at the prospect of surrendering control to you. His breath hitched once more as your fingers continued their slow, teasing journey up and down his torso.
“Here?” you asked coyly, rubbing your palm back and forth over his clothed cock, feeling it twitch underneath your tender caress. It wasn't long until it was fully erect, leaking liquid and staining his boxers. At your touch, Kyle groaned, his body instinctively arching into your palm. He closed his eyes, savoring the feeling of your hand on him.
“Yes,” he managed, his voice strained as his arousal grew. “Right there.” His cock throbbed under the confines of his boxers, desperate for release.
You hummed thoughtfully, applying more pressure and studying his reactions intently. “I bet that feels good, doesn't it?”
Nodding, Kyle could only manage a hoarse “Mhm” as his hips involuntarily jerked towards your touch. The sensation of your hand on him was maddening – both torturous and exquisite. He could feel his muscles tensing and relaxing in response to the pressure you applied.
“Yes, it does,” he admitted, his voice strained as he fought to remain still. He knew that you enjoyed watching him squirm, and the thought only served to heighten his arousal further. Kyle took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, “It feels so good when you touch me.” He couldn’t resist letting out a soft moan as your hand slid over the tip of his cock, causing him to throb even harder. “Please...don’t stop.”
“I won’t stop,” you promised, pushing his underwear downwards, freeing his cock as it bobbed in the air. Gently, you wrapped your hand around him, giving it a few experimental tugs, watching as his precum oozed from the top and spilled onto his lower stomach.
A shudder ran through Kyle as you freed his cock, exposing it to the cool air. He felt your warm hand envelop him, the sensation almost overwhelming in its intensity. He swallowed hard, letting his head fall back against the pillow. His entire body felt alive, sensitive to the slightest touch as you began stroking him with gentle, practiced movements.
Your words sent a surge of pleasure through him, and he knew that tonight would be different – that you would take him to new heights of ecstasy. He couldn’t help but moan again, louder this time, as you wrapped your hand around him more firmly, your fingers working their magic. His hips rose off the bed, seeking more friction as your palm glided over the head of his cock, spreading his precum.
“Oh god,” Kyle gasped, his body shuddering under your touch. “That feels so...” His breathing grew ragged, matching the rhythm of your strokes. He knew he wouldn’t last long like this, but he didn’t want to beg. Instead, he focused on the feeling of submission, of giving control to someone else, allowing the sensations to wash over him.
“I know, baby, I know” you purred, twisting your first around his girth and increasing the pace of your movements.
Kyle bit back a moan as your grip tightening most deliciously. He felt his hips thrust upwards, seeking more contact, more pleasure. It was becoming increasingly difficult to remain still and to let you guide the experience.
“Faster,” he begged, the word spilling out of him unbidden. His mind was consumed with the sensations coursing through his body, each stroke of your hand sending shockwaves straight to his core. The blindfold heightened his other senses, making every sound, every touch, feel amplified. He could hear your breathing, slightly quickened now, as you pleasured him – and it only served to turn him on further.
Kyle’s chest rose and fell rapidly, his muscles straining against the restraints holding his wrists. He wanted to reach out, to touch you in return, to show you just how much he craved this – how much he craved you. But the knowledge that he couldn’t, that he was entirely at your mercy added another layer of arousal to the mix. The anticipation was killing him – and he loved every second of it.
You watched as he neared his release, his jaw falling open as wanton moans poured from his lips. His back arched, His hips bucking wildly as his cock twitched uncontrollably. Just as he was about to fall over the edge, you yanked your hand away, bringing your wet fingers up to your lips to taste his arousal.
Kyle whimpered as you suddenly stopped, the abruptness of it sending a bolt of mixed agony and pleasure through him. He could feel the orgasm building, only to be denied its sweet release. The sound of you tasting his arousal from your fingers sent a fresh wave of desire crashing through him, making it even harder to remain still. His cock ached for contact, twitching in the cool air. Kyle panted, his mind racing as he tried to process the sudden change. He felt a bead of sweat trickle down his temple, and the restraints dug into his wrists as he strained against them involuntarily.
Unable to resist, he lifted his head, trying to catch sight of you despite the blindfold. Kyle rasped your name, pleading, “Please...don’t torment me.”
“I’m sorry, love,” you cooed, kissing his lips, letting him taste himself on her tongue. “That was mean, wasn't it?”
The sensation of your lips against his sent another shiver racing down Kyle’s spine, and he felt a jolt of electricity shoot straight to his groin. As you pulled back, he chased your lips, desperate to maintain contact. The taste of himself in your mouth was heady, only adding to his arousal. Kyle’s chest heaved, and he swallowed thickly, trying to find his voice.
“Yes,” he breathed, “it was,” but there was no venom in the words—only a pleading note urging him to continue. He wanted to feel that exquisite torture again, wanted to see just how far he could push himself. He loved this game, this exchange of power between them. It brought something new, raw, and intense to their relationship, and he craved it.
“I know,” you whispered against his ear, nibbling the lobe before descending his neck, kissing every sensitive area you've come to cherish. “Let me make it up to you, hm?” You pressed your body against his, his sensitive cock pulsing against your stomach as you kissed, licked, nibbled, and sucked his flesh, making your way down his body as you did.
Every touch of your lips sent fireworks dancing across his skin, every lash of your tongue sending another shiver of pleasure down Kyle’s spine. His body was strung tight, like a bow ready to release its arrow, and he couldn’t help but tremble underneath yours. He felt his breathing become ragged, his heart pounding a frantic rhythm in his chest.
“Yes,” he moaned, the word torn from his lips involuntarily. As your mouth moved lower, he felt your warm breath against his chest, sending goosebumps across his torso. The anticipation of your next move was almost too much to bear, the feel of your tongue against his flesh making his muscles clench and unclench with desire.
“Please...” he begged, arching up towards you, silently pleading for the release only you could give.
“Shhh,” you hushed before settling between his thighs, rubbing your hands over his skin. The feeling of your hands sliding over his thighs made Kyle squirm, the light touch igniting a trail of fire that led straight to his throbbing cock. He could hear your breath against his sensitive skin and feel your hot gaze upon him, even through the darkness of the blindfold. His hips moved restlessly, seeking any friction to ease the building pressure.
Kyle bit back a groan, the anticipation driving him wild. He was yours to command, entirely at your mercy – and he loved it. The silence stretched on, punctuated only by his ragged breaths, until finally, he felt the soft brush of your lips against his straining length. He let out a strangled cry, his body jolting with pleasure as you took him in your mouth. His fingers curled into the sheets, knuckles white with the effort it took to remain still, to allow you to set the pace.
“Fuck,” he whispered hoarsely, the word barely audible, as you began to suck and tease him with expert precision.
Kyle’s mind is wracked with pleasure and sensations, every nerve ending heightened and responsive to your ministrations. He felt the firmness of the mattress beneath him, the coolness of the air conditioning against his feverish skin, and the delicious pressure of your lips and tongue on his throbbing cock.
Each movement of your mouth sent shockwaves through his body, making his toes curl, and his muscles tighten. His hips bucked involuntarily, seeking more, but he fought the urge to take control. He wanted to savor this, to let you have your way with him – to be completely and utterly consumed by the pleasure you brought him. He moaned your name, the sound echoing through the dimly lit room, as he surrendered himself fully to your expert touch.
Kyle trusted you implicitly, and in these moments, he felt genuinely alive – vulnerable yet safe, adrift on a sea of sensation with you as his anchor. The sensation of your hands sliding up and down his thighs, your fingertips teasing his skin, was pure torture for Kyle. He could feel the tension coiling inside him, each stroke of your tongue sending electric currents of pleasure ricocheting through his entire being.
He moaned your name again, the sound raw and needy, as you continued to work him over with such skillful mastery. The blindfold only added to his arousal, heightening his senses and leaving him at your complete mercy. His mind raced with thoughts of what you might do next, what new sensation you would introduce to drive him further into ecstasy.
He craved your touch, taste, and scent – every part of you. Now, nothing else mattered but you two, connected in the most primal ways. Kyle's breath hitched as you swirled your tongue around the head of his cock, the tip teasing his slit.
He was so close and knew you could feel it, too. With a shaky exhale, he called your name, “I'm going to...I'm going to..." but he didn't finish the sentence, instead letting out a long, low moan as his release began to build, his body tensing, every muscle contracting before he finally succumbed to the white-hot, bridled lick of heat coursing through his body and spilling from his sensitive cock.
As you continued your sensual assault on his body, Kyle couldn't help but let out a series of low moans, each one growing louder and more desperate than the last. His hips bucked upward, straining against the binds that held him in place, as he fought to remain still and allow you to continue your exploration. The silk of the blindfold caressed his face, sending shivers down his spine, while the cool metal of the handcuffs bit into his wrists, reminding him of his utter submission.
The combination of sensations was intoxicating, a heady blend of pleasure and restraint that left him dizzy with need. He felt the wet heat of your breath against his cock, and then, finally, the exquisite pressure of your lips enveloping him. A strangled cry escaped him as you began to suck, your movements slow and deliberate at first, then gradually increasing in speed and intensity.
Kyle's heart hammered in his chest, his pulse racing as you worked him expertly. He could feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter within him, a delicious knot of desire that threatened to unravel at any moment. He wanted to beg for more, to plead with you, never to stop, but the only sound that escaped his lips was a series of choked gasps and moans.
In the quiet room, the wet sounds of your ministrations seemed amplified, filling his ears and drowning out everything else. He felt your hands roaming over his body, tracing patterns on his skin that left him quivering and aching for more contact. Kyle was acutely aware of every sensation, each heightened by the loss of sight and freedom of movement. He was entirely at your mercy, and he reveled in it.
You pulled off with an audible pop, licking your lips, tasting the thick residue around your mouth as you sat upwards before climbing over his body.
At the sudden absence of your warmth, Kyle whimpered, his hips bucking upwards reflexively as if to try and reclaim the pleasure. He heard the sound of your movements and felt the mattress shift beneath him as you climbed over his body. He lay there, panting and exposed, every muscle taut with need. He could feel the sweat beading on his brow and could practically taste the lust in the air.
Kyle felt your thighs straddle his waist, the heat of your core radiating against his abs, making him even more acutely aware of his bound state. He could hear your shallow and labored breathing matching his rhythm, and it brought a small smile to his lips. “Please,” he managed to say, repeating your name.
“I love it when you beg,” you sighed, tilting your head to the side as you gazed down at him, his breath coming in uneven, panting with desperation. “If you do it more and do it right, I'll give you what you want.” You promised, dipping your thumb into his mouth, grinning as it opened obediently. “Will you be a good boy for me?”
Kyle sucked your thumb into his mouth greedily, rolling his tongue over it, desperate for any contact. He nodded fervently, his breath hot against your skin as he sucked harder.
“Y-yes,” he stammered, “I’ll be good, I promise.” He loved the thrill of submission, the way it made him feel vulnerable yet empowered, and hearing your words only heightened his arousal. He wanted to please you, to give you everything you desired. With a small sigh of contentment, Kyle released your thumb, letting it slide slowly from between his lips.
“Please, Jolie,” he begged again, his voice hoarse and needy. “I need you.” He shifted his hips, pressing his aching erection against her inner thigh, the only contact allowed by his restraints. He could feel your wetness against his skin, and it drove him wild. He wanted nothing more than to feel your tightness around him, to lose himself in the heat of your body.
“I think we both know you can do better than that, right?” You reached behind you to stroke his cock, angling towards your awaiting pussy dripping with desire. You sat backward, gliding your sensitive flesh over his cock, rubbing your folds back and forth slowly.
Kyle groaned at the teasing touch of your dampness against his cock, his whole body tensing with need. The sensation was maddening – so close, yet so far. He took a long breath, focusing on your words as your hand wrapped around him.
“Y-yes,” he stuttered, his cheeks flushing beneath the blindfold. He closed his eyes tightly, although it made no difference with the darkness already surrounding him. “Please,” he said your name, “please take me.” He bucked his hips again, trying to meet your rhythm, but the handcuffs held him in place.
A moan escaped his lips as your grip tightened, and he began to throb even more painfully. He knew you loved the power dynamic between them and found it equally alluring, letting you take charge of your encounters.
“Please,” he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper, “I need to feel you.” Kyle's breath hitched as your warmth teased him, his body yearning to connect with yours completely.
“Such a good boy,” you praised, lifting your body upwards and positioning him against your hole before sinking in one swift movement, crying out when his tip slammed against your cervix.
“Fuck,” you whimpered noisily, rolling your hips, grinding your clit against his pelvis. Kyle arched his back and groaned loudly, unable to contain himself as you fully sheathed him inside your warm, tight embrace. Every nerve ending came alive as he stretched you to the brim, your body clinging to his in a perfect union. He loved the feeling of you taking control, your walls contracting around his cock in a rhythmic dance of pleasure.
Kyle took a moment to savor the intensity of your connection before asking permission in a strained voice, “Can...can I move?” He yearned to thrust deeper into you, but he didn't want to break your trust or overstep the boundaries of your sensual game.
Kyle's hands twisted in the bedsheets, fighting the urge to tug at his cuffs and take control, but he reveled in the surrender, letting you guide your intimate dance. He felt every subtle movement of your hips, each grind of your body against his, amplifying the pleasure coursing through him. Each gasp and moan you made sounded like symphonies echoing through his mind.
“Yeah,” you breathed, your voice commanding a higher pitch. “Move, baby, just...slowly.” Kyle listened attentively, allowing your words to seep into his consciousness and guide him. He began to rock his hips gently; each movement was controlled and deliberate, as if you were both dancing to an erotic rhythm only you two could hear. The restraints forced him to rely on the subtleties of his body, and he found himself growing more attuned to every little shift you made. He relished each sensation – the heat, the wetness, the way your muscles gripped him tightly.
“That’s it,” you encouraged, your hands sliding over his restrained arms. Kyle bit his lip, fighting the urge to plunge deeper and harder. He wanted to give you everything you desired while submitting to your lead. He couldn’t help but marvel at the woman above him, your strength and confidence radiating through every touch and command. It was a heady mix of emotions, and he felt himself growing closer to the edge with each passing moment.
Nodding in agreement to your request, Kyle started to move slowly, drawing almost all the way out before pushing back in with a measured pace. He reveled in the exquisite torture of your tightness surrounding him, your every gasp and moan acting as fuel to his fire. The restraints only added to his arousal, heightening the sense of submission.
He loved pleasing you, loved the sound of your voice when you were lost in pleasure. Kyle leaned forward, pressing his chest against yours, his nipples grazing your sensitive breasts. He felt your heartbeat racing against his, matching the tempo of your lovemaking.
“Yes...” he moaned your name, burying his face in your neck. He inhaled your scent – a mix of arousal and vanilla from your favorite perfume – and nipped at your skin lightly. His hands flexed in their constraints, wanting to touch you, to feel your body move with him. Instead, he focused on the slide of your wetness against him, the way you clenched around his cock. The sensations were overwhelming, and he knew he wouldn't last much longer.
“Faster,” you demanded, your nails digging into his arms. Kyle obeyed, picking up speed while still maintaining control, not wanting to overwhelm you. His hips moved in tandem with yours, your joined bodies moving together like a well-oiled machine. Despite his submission, Kyle couldn't help but feel a sense of power – the knowledge that he was the one giving you such pleasure. It was an intoxicating feeling, and it only made him want more.
He felt his orgasm building, every muscle tensing in anticipation, but he held back, wanting to draw out your shared experience as long as possible. Kyle's heart raced under your command, the thrill of submission coursing through his veins like an aphrodisiac. He felt your grip tighten on his arms as your pace quickened, your breaths becoming ragged. Your nails dug into his flesh, leaving trails of heat that sent shivers down his spine.
Kyle moaned softly, allowing you to take charge while his own body yearned for release. He loved this dance between control and surrender, where you held the reins, and he was free to lose himself in pleasure. He moved with you, each thrust becoming more deliberate and decisive, his hips meeting yours with a satisfying slap. His lack of sight amplified the sensations, making him hyper-aware of your touch, scent, and sounds.
Kyle's hands clenched into fists in the sheets as he fought the urge to break free from the cuffs, to wrap his arms around you and take control. But he relished in the restraint, in the feeling of being completely vulnerable to your whims.
“Yes, fuck...harder,” he groaned against your ear, his voice low and gravelly as he whispered your name. He could feel his climax building, his muscles coiled tighter, and he knew it wouldn't be long now. Kyle bit back a moan, focusing on your pleasure, wanting to ensure you found your release before he did.
Kyle couldn't help but smile at your seductive teasing as you traced your fingers across his chest, the sensation sending shivers down his spine. He loved how you took control and played with his body as if it were your playground. As you reached up to kiss him deeply, Kyle let out a soft moan, the taste of your lips like an addictive drug he couldn't get enough of.
Kyle groaned; he couldn’t help but marvel at your beauty in the dim light filtering through the room – your flushed cheeks, your lips parted in pleasure, and your eyes that held a fire that threatened to consume him whole. Kyle closed his eyes, focusing on the sensation of your tightness surrounding him, milking him with each roll of your hips.
He whispered your name reverently; his voice strained with restraint. He yearned to touch you, to run his fingers along your curves and feel the softness of your skin beneath his calloused hands.
“Yes, love?” you replied, her voice husky and full of promise. “Are you close?” you asked, your tone teasing yet affectionate. Kyle nodded, unable to form coherent words as he fought the urge to buck his hips and take charge.
"Mmmh, fuck yes," Kyle groaned in response, his breathing becoming more labored as your movements increased. He bit back a moan as you began to grind against him in a slow, circular motion, the friction sending sparks flying through his entire body.
"Please, harder," he begged, his voice hoarse and desperate. The soft fabric of the blindfold caressed his cheeks as he turned his head to the side, exposing his neck. He knew you loved to nip and kiss him there, leaving a trail of sin that ignited his passion further.
Your wetness coated him, allowing your bodies to glide together effortlessly. Each thrust became more powerful, the sound of your body meeting and filling the air, mingling with your combined ragged breaths and moans. Kyle could sense your climax building too, your movements growing erratic, your grip on his thighs tightening. It was a delicate balance – surrendering control yet feeling every ounce of power surging through him.
Gazing at you through the slits of his blindfold, Kyle studied your reactions, memorizing every contour of your body moving against him. Your breasts rose and fell in tandem with your breath, and the flush of pleasure spreading across your neck sent a shiver of excitement down his spine. He bit his lower lip, suppressing a groan, as your fingers trailed down his chest, leaving a scorching path. He couldn't help but arch his back, pressing himself deeper into you as you whispered dirty promises into his ear. Your hips moved in perfect rhythm with his, each roll and thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through his veins.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” Kyle managed to say between labored breaths. The mattress creaked softly under the force of your movements, and the cool air in the room caressed his sweat-dampened skin, contrasting with the fire burning within him. Each time you clenched around him, he felt you growing closer to orgasm, and his own need intensified.
“Don’t stop,” he pleaded, his voice straining with desire. Kyle could feel himself nearing the edge, his entire body tensing in anticipation. He wanted nothing more than to release himself into you, but he knew better than to rush the moment. Instead, he focused on your breath hitching, your moans growing more frequently, and your nails digging into his skin – all signs that you were close.
He quickened his pace slightly, pushing you over the edge. As you cried out in ecstasy, your body convulsing around him, Kyle allowed himself to follow suit, letting go of all control. With one final, powerful thrust, he released his pent-up passion inside you, the force of his orgasm almost making him forget who and where he was.
“Fuck…” he breathed, his chest heaving in a desperate attempt to catch his breath. His head fell against the pillow, and he took a deep, satisfied breath, feeling completely spent and utterly connected to you.
As his breathing began to calm, he whispered, “Thank you,” his voice hoarse from the intensity of your coupling. He smiled beneath the blindfold, feeling the softness of her lips as she kissed him tenderly. The world outside your bedroom seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you entwined in each other's arms.
Kyle blinked as you lifted the blindfold from his eyes, letting it fall onto the pillow behind him. Sitting upwards, you undid the cuffs around his wrists before bringing the indented skin up to your lips and kissing the marks in apology.
Kyle's smile spread across his face, his eyes sparkling warmly as the corners crinkled above his high cheekbones. His dimples deepened charmingly. He took his time gazing at you, his expression filled with love and affection.
“Next time,” he spoke up, running his hands along your waist, thumbing over your skin. “It’ll be you.”
summary: sometimes when john comes home he has a hard time coming out of his ‘captain’ mindset
tags/trigger warnings: 18+, f!reader, p in v, fingering, oral sex (m!receiving), degradation, praise, rough sex, dom!john, sub!reader, slight cunnilingus, possessive!john
wc: 3k
MASTERLIST
As you slowly lifted the lid from your pot, a plume of steam rose gracefully into the air, catching the warm glow of the soft yellow light above the stove. The rich aroma of simmering meat mingled with an enticing blend of spices, enveloping your senses and drawing you closer to the bubbling mixture below. You paused momentarily, allowing the delicious scent to wash over you before turning off the heat.
“John?” you called out, your voice echoing softly in the quiet house. You paused, straining to hear any sign of him, but the stillness remained unbroken. After a moment, you called his name again, slightly louder this time. Realizing he might not have heard you or perhaps was busy with work, you decided to leave the kitchen.
With a gentle sigh, you wiped your hands on a kitchen towel and walked down the dimly lit hallway toward your shared bedroom. The familiar scent of fresh linens met you as you approached the door. Curious, you wondered where he could be as you opened the door only to find it empty.
“You called?” came a gruff voice behind you, sending a jolt of surprise through your body. You spun around, heart racing, and let out an embarrassingly loud yelp echoing through the quiet room.
“John!” you exclaimed, frustration and relief mingling as you faced him. There he stood, arms crossed, a slightly amused grin playing at the corners of his lips. His rugged demeanor and the twinkle in his eye made it hard to stay mad, even as your cheeks flushed with embarrassment.
“I just came to let you know that dinner is ready,” you explained, your voice a mix of urgency and annoyance as you took a deep breath.
“Where were you?” you inquired, trying to sidestep him. However, he shifted his larger frame to block your way, forcing you to halt. You raised an eyebrow, gazing up at him with confusion and curiosity, your heart racing slightly at the unexpected barrier he presented.
"On the phone," he responded curtly, his voice steady yet evasive, leaving the conversation in mystery. A thick silence enveloped the space, stretching uncomfortably as his penetrating gaze bore down on you, filled with an intensity that made it hard to look away.
"Dinner can wait," he said, his voice a low rumble in the quiet room. Reaching out with a hand roughened by years of combat, he gently grasped your wrist, pulling you towards him. His grip was firm yet gentle, a silent command you had come to recognize and submit to in these moments. With his free hand, he brushed aside a stray lock of hair from your face, his thumb tracing a path along your jawline as he looked into your eyes.
"I need to take care of some business first," he murmured, his tone dropping an octave deeper. His fingers trailed lower, tracing the curve of your neck until they reached the hollow of your throat. Watching your eyes flutter closed, he leaned forward, pressing a firm kiss against your collarbone, his facial hair scraping against your sensitive skin.
"Why don't you wait for me in the bedroom?" he suggested, his voice huskier than before. Releasing your wrist, he stepped back slightly, granting you space to leave while maintaining a dominant presence. His subtle shift in his posture told you he expected obedience, a challenge you couldn't resist. John watched you closely as you hesitated, weighing your options.
He knew that look, the excitement, and the apprehension that played across your features whenever he took charge like this. He savored the moment, relishing the anticipation. Finally, you nodded, a soft gasp escaping your lips when you turned your back. His hand landed swiftly on the bottom, sending you further toward the bedroom.
His heart raced at the sight of your retreating form, the sway of your hips enticing him further. He followed you, his steps measured and deliberate, allowing you enough time to reach the bed and prepare for what was to come. Entering the room, he caught your gaze, expectantly waiting for him, your eyes heavy with desire and submission. He closed the door behind him, sealing off the outside world as he began to remove his shirt, his movements slow and purposeful.
"Strip for me," he commanded, his voice low and gravelly. The authority in his tone brooked no argument. He took a seat on the edge of the bed, his gaze never leaving your form as you hesitated for only a moment before beginning to undress. John leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, as he watched you remove each article of clothing. His eyes roved over your body hungrily, taking in every curve and angle.
As your clothes fell away, he could feel his restraint slipping. He sat on the bed, his posture dominating as he watched your every move. His hands itched to touch you, to explore every inch of your bare flesh, but he held back, relishing in the anticipation building between you.
Once you stood before him completely naked, he rose to his feet, towering over you. He reached out, tracing his fingers along the curve of your hip and up your side, watching as goosebumps rose in their wake. Leaning down, he captured your mouth in a demanding kiss, his tongue delving deep as he tasted your sweetness. He felt your hands tremble against his chest, your nails digging in slightly as you wrapped your arms around him. Breaking the kiss, Price whispered against your lips, "On the bed,” he muttered your name. “On your knees."
He helped guide you onto the mattress, his fingers tangling in your hair as he positioned you precisely as he wanted. With a firm tug, he pulled your head back, exposing the smooth expanse of your neck. He kissed and nipped at the sensitive skin there, reveling in your gasps and moans. He could feel your body growing warmer, more pliable under his touch, and it only served to heighten his arousal. He would claim you tonight, reaffirming his position as your protector and lover.
With a low growl of desire, John trailed his fingers down your spine, savoring the way your body reacted to his touch. His eyes narrowed as he studied your form, the sight of your submission making his heart race and blood surge. He couldn't resist the urge to take control, to remind you of who you belonged to at this moment. He stepped back, allowing you to settle onto the bed as instructed. His gaze swept over you, drinking in every curve and dip in your skin that begged his attention.
John moved behind you, his hands gripping your hips firmly, pulling you towards the edge of the bed. Leaning over, he placed a series of soft, lingering kisses along your shoulder blades, working his way down your back until he reached the base of your spine. He felt you shiver beneath him, your breaths growing ragged with anticipation.
"You're mine," he murmured into your ear, his breath hot against your skin. "And I intend to remind you of that." He gently bit your earlobe before trailing his lips down the side of your neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh. One hand slipped between your body and the mattress to cradle your breast, his thumb brushing against your nipple, causing you to let out a soft whimper. He continued to tease you, alternating between soft kisses and sharp nips until you were squirming beneath him.
Chuckling darkly at your reaction, John loved the way you melted under his touch, your submission feeding his dominance. "So eager, aren't you?" he whispered huskily, his breath tickling the shell of your ear. With a sinful smirk, John watched your cheeks flush under his scrutiny, enjoying how you trembled in anticipation. He took a moment to appreciate the view before moving in closer, letting his body heat envelop you. His hand slid from your breast to your stomach, his fingers dancing along the soft skin as he continued to rain kisses along the back of your neck. He could hear your heart pounding, matching the rhythm of his own.
"Spread your legs," he commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument. You obeyed instantly, your breath hitching as his fingers trailed lower, teasing the sensitive flesh between your thighs. His touch was light, barely there, but enough to send a wave of pleasure through your body. He reveled in the sound of your moans, knowing he was eliciting them. His thumb circled your clit, applying just the right amount of pressure to keep you on edge.
Leaning forward, John nipped at your earlobe before whispering, "Remember who owns you," he growled softly, his voice sending a shiver down your spine. His hands moved to your hips, pulling you closer to him, the evidence of his arousal pressing against your thigh. He continued his ministrations, his fingers exploring your wetness while he kept you on edge with featherlight touches. The contrast between his firm hold and gentle caresses made you gasp, your body arching into him.
"You belong to me," he reiterated, his thumb now making firmer circles around your swollen clit while two fingers slid inside you, curling and stroking at just the right angle. He felt your walls tightening around him, your breath coming in shallow gasps as she rode the wave of pleasure.
His movements became more deliberate, his fingers moving in tandem with the rhythm of your hips as you rocked against him. With each stroke, you grew more desperate for release, your moans becoming louder, more pleading. John reveled in your submission, knowing he drove you to the brink. "Beg for it," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear.
“Please, John!” You hiccuped, feeling tears of frustration well in your eyes, pushing your hips back against his assaulting fingers.
A smirk played at the corners of his lips; he loved how you sounded, desperate and eager to please him. He withdrew his fingers, letting you feel the loss before he spoke again. "That wasn't quite good enough, pet," he teased, a hint of amusement lacing his words. He grabbed your chin, turning your head so you could look into his piercing eyes, filled with lust and dominance.
"Beg me properly," he demanded, releasing your chin so his hand could slip down your body again, teasing you. He watched as your spine arched impossibly deeper before he dipped his fingers inside you once more, slowly pumping them in and out while rubbing your clit with his thumb. He waited patiently, his eyes never leaving yours, wanting to hear the words he craved from your lips. It was like music to his ears when they finally came: "Please, Captain. Please let me cum for you."
That was all he needed. With a growl of satisfaction, he increased his pace, his fingers working in harmony with your hips as you fell over the edge. Your cries echoed through the room, and he reveled in the feeling of power that surged through him. You belonged to him, and there was no denying it.
As your orgasm subsided, John released you from his grasp, allowing you to catch your breath. He took a moment to admire the flushed look on your face, the sweat glistening on your skin, and the way your body trembled with aftershocks.
"Beautiful," he praised, his tone softening slightly. John couldn't help but feel a sense of pride at seeing you reduced to such a state of ecstasy under his touch. He leaned closer to you, his lips brushing against your earlobe as he whispered, "You've been such a good girl for me tonight."
His grip tightened around your hips, pulling you flush against him before turning your head towards him and claiming your mouth in a rough, demanding kiss. His tongue danced with yours, tasting your desire, as his free hand moved to cup your breast. His thumb traced lazy circles around your nipple, eliciting a soft moan from your lips. With each passing second, John felt his need for you grow stronger. He broke the kiss, trailing his lips down your neck, leaving a path of fire in his wake.
"Mmm," John rumbled appreciatively at your whimpers, savoring the taste of your skin. "You're so beautiful when you cum for me," he praised, nipping gently at your shoulder. His fingers continued to explore your sensitive folds, drawing out the remnants of your orgasm while he considered his next move.
He pulled back, his gaze locked on your face, watching your reactions as he undid his belt and freed himself from his pants. Your eyes widened, but he could see the hunger in them. With his erection pressing against your thigh, he reached around, his hand sliding between your legs to ensure your pussy was still leaking with slickness. Satisfied, he guided himself to your entrance and thrust forward, filling you up in one smooth motion. John groaned at the sensation, closing his eyes briefly as he reveled in your warmth. He began moving slowly at first, allowing you to adjust to his size.
"Is that what you wanted, pet?" he asked, his voice strained with need. He gripped your hips tightly, pulling you back to meet each of his thrusts. He knew you loved it when he took control and intended to give you precisely what you craved. John’s heartbeat quickened as he felt your body tighten around him, your breath hitching in pleasure. He loved this dance, this delicate balance of control and surrender between you. His grip on your hips tightened, and he began to thrust harder, relishing the way you moaned his name.
Leaning over you, he wrapped one arm around your waist, pulling you back into him as he drove himself deeper inside you. His other hand found its way to your hair, gripping it firmly as he angled your head to the side. He couldn't resist kissing your neck, sucking gently at the soft skin beneath his lips as his pace grew relentless.
"Who do you belong to?" he growled, his voice hoarse with desire. He loved hearing you say it and knew that you were his body and soul.
"I belong to you," you replied breathlessly, your voice barely audible over the sounds of your bodies colliding. John smiled against your skin, feeling a surge of possessiveness flood him. He bit down harder, leaving a mark, claiming you once more.
"That's right, pet," he murmured approvingly. "I’ll make sure you don't forget it."
With a fierce grin, John continued his assault on your senses, his movements gaining momentum as he listened to your breathy gasps and felt your body quiver under his touch. You filled his nostrils as he buried his nose into your hair, inhaling deeply.
His hips slammed into you; each thrust sending a jolt of pleasure coursing through his body. He loved the way you submitted to him, the way you begged and pleaded for release. He nuzzled your ear, his hot breath tickling your skin as he whispered, "Do you want me to make you cum again?" You moaned, nodding your head fervently as your fingers clutched at the sheets beneath you.
John chuckled darkly, his grip on your hair tightening as he began to thrust even harder, pushing you toward another orgasm. He could feel his release building, the tension coiling in his lower abdomen.
"Say it," he demanded, his voice strained. "Say you want me to make you cum, pet." You cried out, your voice hoarse, "Yes, Captain! Please make me cum!" That was all the encouragement he needed. Price angled his hips, hitting your sweet spot with every thrust, his fingers digging into your flesh. Your walls clamped down around him as you came undone, your body writhing in pleasure beneath him. He growled in approval, the sound rumbling deep in his chest as he buried himself inside you, his climax following closely behind.
As John stepped back, creating a moment of space between you, you felt the air rush back into your lungs, the sharpness of your breath filling the silence. He surveyed you for a moment, his piercing gaze not softening. When he finally spoke, his voice resonated with the gravitas of a seasoned soldier, each word heavy with experience and command. "On your knees, pet," He commanded, his voice sharp and unwavering. As you complied, he admired your obedience, a wave of arousal washing over him.
His fingers traced your jawline before tangling in your hair once again, guiding your face toward his still-hard length. "Go on," he instructed, “make me cum” his deep voice resonating through the room. He enjoyed watching your lips wrap around him, your tongue swirling and licking away every drop of your combined shared pleasure. The sight alone was almost enough to bring him to the edge.
He groaned appreciatively as your pace quickened, your eyes looking up at him with such adoration. "That's it, just like that," he encouraged, his grip on your hair tightening slightly.
"Get ready," he warned, his hips jerking forward as he came, filling your mouth with his release. When he was spent, he pulled back, watching as you swallowed every drop before giving him a satisfied smile. He leaned down, capturing your lips in a possessive kiss, tasting himself on your tongue. “C’mon,” he urged you to stand, chuckling as your legs shook beneath you. “I’ll make it up to you,” he said, laying you flat on the bed before sinking to his knees and lifting your legs over his shoulders. You tilted your head back with a smile, running your fingers through his hair. You closed your eyes, letting out a sigh as his kisses descended your body and in between your thighs.
Dinner was likely cold by now, but the thought quickly disappeared when his lips wrapped themselves around your clit; your mind only concentrated on him, just as it should be.
summary: you’re a bunny hybrid taking a short walk in the woods you think you’re all alone until you’re not
tags/trigger warnings: 18+, f!reader, dubcon, p in v, fingering, praise, degradation, rough sex, predator!simon, threats of unaliving, panther!simon, prey!reader, bunny!reader, dom!simon, sub!reader, animalistic sex, crying, virgin!reader
wc: 4.4k
MASTERLIST
The air was heavy with humidity, each breath infused with the earthy aroma of rain-soaked grass and damp soil. As you cautiously navigated the lush, dewy terrain beneath your feet, the vivid sounds of nature surrounded you. The rhythmic chorus of cicadas filled the air, harmonizing with the cheerful melodies of birdsong flitting about in the trees above. Sunlight poured down, its warmth contrasting sharply with the cool, wet ground, creating a vibrant tableau of summer life. Each step sent tiny droplets of water shimmering in the light while the foliage glistened like emeralds, alive with the vivid colors of the season.
As you ventured deeper into the wilderness, each step squelched delightfully in the thick, wet mud that oozed between your toes, a cool contrast to the sweltering heat that had wrapped around you like a heavy blanket. The sun hung high in the sky, casting dappled shadows that danced across the forest floor. You had wandered farther from the safety of your home than intended, and an instinctive alertness sharpened your senses.
With every rustle of leaves or distant snap of a twig, your ears twitched, straining to pick up the faintest of sounds—the chirping of birds, the rustle of small creatures in the underbrush, a whisper of wind through the branches. Each new smell caught your attention, from the earthy scent of wet ground to the sweet, musky aroma of wildflowers. You inhaled deeply, letting the fragrances mingle in your mind, a lively tapestry of the world around you, eager to commit them to memory.
Unbeknownst to you, a cunning predator lay in wait, his gaze fixed intently on you—the small, diminutive rabbit hybrid. From his concealed position, shrouded in the thick underbrush, his sharp brown eyes transformed into narrow slits, capturing every moment of your delicate movements. The soft rustling of leaves accompanied the lazy flick of his tail as he crouched low amidst the ferns and bushes, ready to strike any moment. The air was thick with tension; each breath he took was a silent testament to his growing anticipation.
He admired your determination despite your obvious fear—the subtle tremors in your legs, the near-constant twitch of your ears. His heartbeat remained steady, a testament to his years of experience in this unforgiving environment. A predator at the top of the food chain, he was drawn to your vulnerability, his body instinctively reacting to the potential conquest.
“Who goes there?” he called out, his deep voice rolling like distant thunder. There was no malice in his tone, merely curiosity tinged with authority. He wanted to gauge your reaction, to see if you were a worthy addition to his territory or simply another lost soul who would fall prey to its perils. He allowed himself a small smile, anticipating the thrill of the chase and the satisfaction of claiming you for himself.
A jolt of terror surged through your veins as you soared into the air, mud flying in chaotic arcs, splattering your clothes in the dark, clinging patches. Heart racing, you spun around, your head darting from side to side as you strained to pinpoint the source of the haunting voice that echoed through the stillness. The world felt suspended then; each sound amplified as anticipation gripped you tighter.
Chuckling to himself at your startled reaction, the human panther emerged from his cover with a smooth grace that belied his muscular frame. The sunlight glinted off the black fur of his ears and tail, casting an ethereal aura around him as he prowled closer. His movements were calculated and deliberate—like a predator stalking its prey. He reveled in his power over you, his eyes gleaming with a predatory hunger that only added to his menacing allure.
“Easy there,” he purred, his voice low and soothing despite the underlying threat. “No need to fear the shadows. You've got nothing to worry about… unless you're planning on causing trouble in my territory.” He studied you intently, noting the rapid rise and fall of your chest, the erratic pulse at the base of your neck. You were frightened, but there was something else there, too—curiosity? Intrigue? Either way, it made his blood sing with excitement. He took another step closer, his tail twitching in anticipation.
“What brings a little thing like you to these parts?”
Overwhelmed by fear, you found yourself lost for words as you gazed up at him, your eyes wide and shimmering like saucers. Your small hands trembled involuntarily, each twitching a reflection of the panic coursing through your veins, leaving you paralyzed in place.
His grin widened slightly at your paralysis, his chest rumbling with a low, approving purr. You were just as he liked them—scared but not broken. As you stared at him, fear-ridden and trembling, he took the opportunity to assess you more thoroughly. Your delicate form was intriguing—small enough to fit within the palm of his hand, yet there was something undeniably alluring about you. Your fear was intoxicating, and he couldn't help but wonder how you would react when he finally claimed you.
He crouched down lower, his movements deliberate and non-threatening, as if he were trying to coax a wild animal to approach him. “No need to be afraid,” he repeated, voice still calm and soothing. He allowed his tail to brush lightly against your leg, testing your boundaries and waiting for any sign of resistance or submission.
“I…” Your voice trailed off, soft and airy like a gentle breeze, as you found yourself lost in the endless depths of his onyx eyes. The intensity of his gaze felt like a magnetic pull, drawing you in yet making it hard to hold contact. You cast your eyes downward, feeling a blush creep across your cheeks. “I got lost,” you confessed, your words barely above a whisper tinged with vulnerability as you avoided the weight of his stare.
A low growl of disbelief escaped his lips. Lost? In his territory? He didn’t buy it for a second. Prey never wandered in here accidentally. They knew better. But still, something about you piqued his interest. Perhaps the innocence seemed to radiate from you like a warm aura, or maybe it was the way you submitted so quickly to his dominance. He leaned closer, inhaling deeply to catch your scent. It was intoxicating—floral with a hint of something sweet, like freshly picked berries. His body hummed with arousal, and he could feel his instincts taking over.
“Look at me,” he commanded, voice firm and unwavering. When you hesitantly raised your eyes to meet his, he continued, “Lost, huh? That’s not a good excuse for trespassing.” He let the implied threat hang heavy between them, his gaze never wavering from yours. He could see the wheels turning in your mind as you searched for an explanation that might appease him, and he relished every second of it.
“But I suppose I can make exceptions... under the right circumstances.” He allowed one clawed finger to trail down your arm, sending goosebumps across your skin.
“Thank you…” you murmured, letting out a shaky breath that trembled in the air around you. The gravity of the moment pressed against your chest, and you fought to blink away the hot tears that threatened to spill from your eyes, each one a reflection of the fear that gripped your heart.
His expression softened slightly at your response, and he couldn't help but feel a twinge of pride. The fear rolling off you in waves was intoxicating, and he wanted more. The panther leaned closer, his breath hot against your cheek as he spoke, “Tell me, little rabbit, why should I let you live?”
He could feel the heat radiating off your body, the rapid beat of your heart drumming in his ears like a symphony. It was music to his predatory soul. He let his claw graze gently across your collarbone, enjoying how you flinched at his touch. The thought sent a surge of arousal straight to his groin.
You let out a whimper at his words, squeezing your eyes shut as his claw pressed against the center of your throat. You swallowed your spit, feeling the sharp pressure dig deeper.
As the breath rushed out of your lungs, it felt as though a heavy weight pressed against your chest, trapping you in a suffocating grip. Your throat constricted painfully, leaving you gasping and helpless, the air just out of reach. Hot tears streamed down your cheeks, each one a silent testament to the turmoil inside, while you sniffled softly, a mix of vulnerability and despair.
A dark smile twisted across his lips as you cried beneath his touch. The sound sent shivers down his spine, only fueling his desire for control. He pressed his claw ever so slightly harder against your delicate throat, enjoying your reaction. Your vulnerability was like a drug, and he wanted more.
He leaned closer, his breath hot against your ear, “Answer me,” he growled, his voice low and menacing. He could feel his cock hardening in his pants as pictures of taming such a delicate creature flashed in his mind.
“Why should I spare you?” He repeated, applying a little more pressure. His thumb stroked the pulse point beneath his claw, feeling it race wildly beneath his touch.
“I don't know…” you whined, wheezing underneath him. You couldn't come up with anything to say to him, your instincts telling you to run as fast and far as you could, but you knew you couldn't outrun him. You were stuck.
“Please…” you begged, your chin trembling, tears slipping between your lips and down your neck.
His smile turned feral; he loved it when prey begged for mercy; it showed how far they would go to survive. He leaned back slightly, his eyes scanning your trembling form as he considered his options.
“That’s not a very convincing answer, little rabbit.” He retracted his claws from your throat, giving you a brief respite, only to slide his hand down to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing away a tear.
“You’ll have to do better than that if you want to live.” The heat from his hand was almost unbearable against your cold, wet skin, but the tenderness of the gesture was surprisingly gentle.
He wanted to see you fall apart underneath him, hear you scream his name until your voice gave out. But first, he needed to listen to you beg correctly. “Tell me,” he whispered huskily, his thumb tracing your lower lip.
“What will you do for me?” His voice clarified the implication, and he could practically taste your fear.
You blinked at him, your thoughts racing as you processed his words. The room felt charged with anticipation, and you could sense the weight of his expectations hanging in the air.
“Any—anything!” you exclaimed, your voice rising above your usual quiet, the urgency spilling out before you could rein it in. At that moment, nothing else mattered; your heart raced, and the noise around you faded into nothingness. All that remained was the spark of possibility in his gaze.
His eyes flashed at your eager response. You were quicker to break than he had expected, but then again, rabbits were known for their fragility. He could feel the thrill of victory coursing through his veins as his cock throbbed in his pants, straining against the confines of his clothing.
“Good,” he purred, his hand sliding down your neck and between your breasts, pausing at the swell of your cleavage.
“Then prove it.” He pushed you slightly, urging you to get on your knees. His fingers traced the fabric of your clothes, teasing the sensitive skin underneath, before resting at your waistband.
He growled softly as you obediently obliged, his voice thick with lust and hunger. He undid the button of his pants, pulling out his length. It bobbed heavily in front of your face, demanding attention.
“Use your mouth.” The order was simple yet held so much weight. He could hear your pulse racing faster and your breath hitching at the sight of him.
You sat on your knees, feeling the wet grass scrape against your skin. You were taken aback by the abruptness of the situation unfolding right before you. The unexpectedness of it all sent a rush of adrenaline through your veins. You could feel the sun's warmth on your skin, starkly contrasting the chill of anxiety creeping in. As your heart raced, you licked your lips, the taste of anticipation mingling with the pooling saliva in your mouth, a physical reminder of the gravity of what was happening.
You lifted your gaze to meet his, your lips slightly parted as you took deep, steadying breaths, trying to soothe the fluttering anxiety within you. “I’ve—I've never…” you began, your voice trembling with the weight of your admission.
He smirked, raising an eyebrow at your confession. “Never?” he asked, amusement lacing his voice. The thought excited him further, knowing that he would be the one to break you, to claim you. His fingers traced the side of your face, his thumb grazing your cheekbone.
“Don’t worry,” he murmured, “I’ll teach you everything you need to know,” he promised sultrily.
“But first, you have to show me you’re willing.” He gripped your chin firmly, forcing your gaze back to his arousal. “Open up for me,” he commanded, his tone low and dominant. You could sense his excitement and approval, the heat radiating off his body, and how his tail swished behind him.
You braced your hands against his thighs, opening your mouth wider, flicking your eyes back up to his face to gauge his reaction.
He watched you closely, approval flickering in his eyes as his fingers tightened around your chin, guiding you closer to his cock. As your soft lips enveloped the tip, he let out a low groan, his hips jerking slightly in pleasure.
“That’s it,” he encouraged, “take it all in.” He pushed your head down slowly, savoring the sensation of your warmth engulfing him. He could feel your hesitancy, but your willingness to try only made it hotter. As you began to move your lips along his length, he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of pride at having you submit so readily. He tilted his head to the side, closing his eyes and letting the waves of pleasure roll through him.
“Deeper,” he growled, his grip on your head becoming firmer as he thrust shallowly into your mouth, guiding your movements to match his rhythm.
His eyes remained closed, relishing in the sensation of your lips wrapped around him. His tail twitched erratically as you tried to keep up with his pace. He knew you were struggling but couldn’t bring himself to ease up. The feel of your mouth on him was too good, too enticing.
He could hear your soft whimpers, which only fueled his arousal. A dark grin curved against his lips. “Good girl,” he praised, his voice thick with desire. He felt you gag slightly and paused, pulling back to allow you to catch your breath. His thumb traced your bottom lip, smearing precum across your face.
“You’re learning,” he purred before pushing your head back onto him. He began to thrust again, this time harder and deeper. Simon’s eyes snapped open, his gaze locking onto your watery ones.
He enjoyed watching you struggle to please him, your small form trembling beneath his firm grip. His hips moved in rhythm with your mouth, setting a pace that he knew would bring him closer to release.
“Use your tongue,” he instructed, his voice low and commanding. “Show me how much you want it.” As you obeyed, licking and sucking fervently, he couldn’t hold back a moan of satisfaction. He reached down to stroke your long ears, his movements becoming more erratic as pleasure built within him. The sound of your muffled whimpers only added to the experience.
“That’s right,” he growled, feeling himself growing closer to climax, and tightened his grip on your head, holding you firmly in place as he thrust deeper. “You’re mine,” he whispered, his voice husky with lust. “Say it.”
You pulled back, hollowing your cheeks and flicking your tongue along his veins, pressing against his frenulum. With his tip pressed against your lips and your nails sinking into his skin.
“M’yours,” you mumbled, dragging your tongue across his tip, licking up the salty droplets slipping from the slit. Your eyelids fell halfway, and your mind began to fall deeper into a subspace.
A rumble of approval vibrated through Simon’s chest at your words, feeling a surge of power and possession. “Mmm,” he groaned, “good bunny.” He stroked your head encouragingly, pressing his thumb against your cheek. “Just like that,” he praised, his voice thick with desire.
The sight of you like this - submissive, eager to please - ignited a primal instinct within him. His hips moved involuntarily, pushing his cock towards your waiting lips. As you wrapped them around him once more, his eyes rolled back in ecstasy. He allowed himself to sink deeper into the moment, letting the sensations wash over him.
“Fuck yes,” he growled, his grip on your head tightening again. He thrust deeper into your mouth, feeling the head of his cock hit the back of your throat. His tail lashed behind him, betraying his mounting pleasure.
“Take it,” he ordered, pushing himself further into your mouth. His eyes snapped open, locking onto your half-lidded gaze, watching you submit to his every whim. He could see the trust and surrender in your expression, which only made him harder.
“You’re mine,” he repeated, his voice husky with arousal. “Mine to use, mine to protect.” He pushed himself deeper still, holding you in place until he felt his orgasm building. With a final thrust, he released himself into your mouth, growling with satisfaction as you swallowed every drop. He released you, stroking your hair softly as he caught his breath.
“Good,” he praised, “very good.” His voice was calm and controlled once more, the moment's intensity having passed.
You preened at his praise, your chest puffing in pride before resting your cheek against his thigh, wrapping your arms around his leg, purring softly as you gazed up at him. Your soft tail twitched against your lower back, its soft touch offering you a sense of comfort.
His fingers traced idly through your silky hair, “Look at you,” he murmured, a hint of amusement in his deep voice, “so eager to please.” His hand moved up to gently caress your cheek, his thumb brushing away the drool that clung to your lower lip.
He leaned down, capturing your gaze with his intense one. “You did well,” he said, his voice low and gravelly. He lifted your chin with a single finger, tilting your face upwards so he could claim your lips in a slow, possessive kiss. His tongue swept across yours, tasting himself on you before delving deeper, exploring the warm cavern of your mouth. Without words, he wanted you to know who you belonged to - who owned every part of you. When he pulled away, his breathing was ragged.
“But don’t think this means you’re safe,” he warned, his eyes flashing dangerously. “You’re still my prey.” The words were spoken softly, but there was no mistaking the threat behind them. He stood then, towering over your small form.
“Get up,” he ordered, offering you a hand. “We’re not finished here.” His grip was firm but not harsh as he pulled you to your feet. He led you towards a large tree, pressing you against it, his body pinning yours against the rough bark. He leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear. “You’ll learn your place,” he whispered, his voice dark and promising.
He trailed his free hand down your torso, feeling the slight tremble in your body as his fingers traced along your curves. He reached the hem of your top, swiping through it with one claw and letting it fall to the floor in tatters, revealing your naked form to his greedy eyes.
He growled low in his throat at the sight of your exposed flesh, his hunger for you growing stronger by the second. His hand moved to cup one of your breasts, his thumb rubbing circles around the nipple as it hardened under his touch. He could hear the rapid beat of your heart against his chest, feel your quickened breaths against his neck.
His eyes narrowed in appreciation at your obedience, noting how you arched into his touch, your soft purrs music to his ears. He leaned down, capturing your lips in another dominant kiss, claiming every inch of your mouth. He felt your small, delicate hands fumble against his chest before sliding around his back, your nails lightly scraping his skin. A low rumble of approval sounded in his throat, and he deepened the kiss further, letting you know who was in charge. Breaking away, he murmured against your lips, “Good girl.”
His hands moved to your waist, lifting you slightly so you could wrap your legs around him. He supported your weight effortlessly, the muscles in his arms flexing under your touch. His fingers trailed along your exposed skin, eliciting shivers as he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of your shorts. With a single swift motion, he pulled them down, revealing your lower half. He stepped back, admiring the sight of you pressed against the tree, completely bare and at his mercy.
“Beautiful,” he praised, licking his lips. He placed a hand on the trunk beside your head, caging you in with his larger form. His other hand traced down your body, stopping at the juncture of your thighs. He could feel your heat radiating against his palm, and he couldn’t resist sliding a finger between your folds. You gasped, your hips jerking forward slightly at the contact. He smirked, his feline eyes gleaming. He circled your clit lazily, enjoying the feel of your body reacting to his touch.
“Mine,” he growled possessively before dipping his finger inside you. He savored the feel of your wetness around his finger, your body quivering under his touch. His thumb continued to circle your clit, applying just enough pressure to make you moan. Your reactions only fueled his desire, his cock straining against his pants. He leaned in, nipping at your earlobe, eliciting your whimper.
He slowly removed his finger, causing you to whine softly in protest. Chuckling darkly, he pressed his lips against your neck, sucking and biting gently, leaving a trail of marks that would brand you as his. He reached down, positioning himself at your entrance, the tip teasing your wet folds.
With one powerful thrust, he entered you, filling you completely. You cried out, your body tensing around him. He hissed in pleasure, holding still for a moment, allowing you to adjust to his size. Once your body relaxed slightly, he began to move, setting a steady rhythm that had you moaning and writhing against him.
He loved the feeling of your tight walls clamping down on him, your nails digging into his shoulders as you tried to hold on. He moved one hand to your breast, teasing your nipple until it peaked beneath his fingers. Your pants turned to whimpers as he picked up the pace, his hips slamming into yours with ferocity.
The predator smirked, enjoying your desperate attempts to keep up with his relentless pace. Your whimpers and gasps spurred him further, driving him to push you closer to the edge. He pinched your nipple lightly, eliciting a sharp cry from you, and he knew you were close. He leaned his head back, savoring the sensations coursing through his body. His tail swished lazily behind him, the end twitching as he thrust deeper into you.
He could hear the soft thud of your body against the tree trunk, each impact punctuating the sounds of your combined ragged breaths and wet flesh meeting. His grip tightened on your hip, guiding your movements as he drove himself further into your warmth. He was so close, but he needed you to come undone first. His thumb circled your clit, applying just the right amount of pressure to make you squirm.
“Come for me,” he growled against your ear, nipping at the lobe again. Your whimpers grew louder, your body tensing as your orgasm built. He could feel your walls contracting around him, milking him, urging him toward his climax. He increased his pace, each thrust becoming more powerful, more demanding. He watched your face contorted in pleasure; your eyes squeezed shut as you bit down on your bottom lip. And then, with a final gasp, you fell apart, your body convulsing around him as you rode out your release.
He couldn’t hold back any longer. With one final growl, he released his seed deep inside you, claiming you once more. He held you there, panting heavily, until the last tremors subsided. Only then did he pull away, tucking himself back into his pants. His hand moved to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing away the tears that streaked down your face.
“Pretty bunny,” he praised, his voice still rough with desire. He kissed your forehead softly before releasing you, letting you slump against the tree to catch your breath.
His eyes narrowed, watching you closely as you struggled to regain your composure. He savored the sight of you, flushed and spent against the tree trunk. Despite the tenderness of his last action, he reminded himself that this was still a game of survival - one he intended to win. He knew you were vulnerable now, but he also knew you were resilient. He needed to keep pushing to make sure you understood your place.
“Don’t think that was enough,” he murmured, his voice still thick with arousal. “You’re mine until I say otherwise.” His hand trailed down your arm before spinning you around, pressing you against the tree again, his body still radiating heat against yours. “Do you understand?” His grip on your wrists tightened, pulling them above your head so you were entirely at his mercy.
“You belong to me.” He leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear. “And I’ll do whatever it takes to protect what’s mine.” With that, he released one of your wrists, his hand sliding down your body to cup your breast, squeezing gently. His thumb teased your nipple, eliciting another moan from you. He smirked, satisfied that you were still so responsive to him.
“Now,” he said, his tone firm, “we continue. You’re going to walk ahead of me, nice and slow.” He released your other wrist, allowing you to move away from the tree. His hand rested on the small of your back, guiding you forward.
“And if you try to run,” he warned, his voice low and dangerous, “I’ll just have to catch you again.” His fingers traced along the curve of your waist, his nails digging in just enough to remind you of his presence. “And trust me, little rabbit,” he purred, “you won’t enjoy it nearly as much.”
summary: a mission goes wrong with your comrade Gaz things escalate
tags/trigger warnings: 18+, f!reader, dubcon, p in v, fingering, cunnilingus, praise, marathon sex, rough sex, military inaccuracies, secret relationship (sorta)
wc: 4.4k
MASTERLIST
The rhythmic thump of your heartbeat reverberates in your ears, a steady drumbeat that seems to take center stage in the silence around you. Each breath you draw in feels heavy and resonant, filling your lungs before you release a rush of air, expelling the remnants of oxygen from your chest. A sense of disorientation washes over you as if you're drifting in a dream; your vision is obscured, the lights above you glowing softly yet indistinctly through a haze. You groan, a sound laced with confusion and uncertainty echoing in the quiet space as you grapple with the sensations swirling inside your mind.
A voice breaks through the silence, its tone smooth yet laced with urgency. It calls your name, reverberating in the stillness before a blurred silhouette steps into view. As your vision clears, you see warm, chocolate-brown eyes that are wide with fear, glistening in the dim light. The tension in the air is palpable; you can almost feel the frantic energy radiating from him as he searches for your gaze, desperate for connection in this unsettling moment.
He shouts something into his chest, words muffled and distorted, fading in and out as your mind dances on the edge of consciousness.
“It’s gonna be okay,” he murmurs, his voice shifting, suddenly resonant and soothing, wrapping around you like a warm blanket as he draws nearer.
His hand moves to your shoulder, his grip firm yet gentle, as he tries to steady you amidst the chaos that has befallen you both. He studies your face; concern etched deeply into his features. He says your name, enunciating each syllable with utmost care, his words rolling off his tongue like honeyed silk.
“Can you hear me?” He leans closer, trying to assess your condition as the gravity of the situation settles in. His other hand brushes a strand of hair from your face, revealing more of your delicate features. The warmth of his touch sends a jolt through you, a spark of desire igniting in your core. He clenches his jaw, willing himself to stay focused.
“We’ll find a way out of this.” He glances down at your body, the sight of your curves making his pulse quicken.
It sounds like Gaz’s voice echoing in the haze surrounding you, but everything remains blurry and indistinct. You press your palms against your eyes, feeling the subtle warmth as you attempt to dispel the fog clouding your vision. With every rub, you forcefully wish for clarity, yet it only seems to exacerbate the distortion, causing the scene ahead to twist unsettlingly.
You can still make out his imposing figure standing before you despite your struggle. The contours of his silhouette are sharp, and even through the haze, a sense of strength radiates from him. Every attempt to focus on his features fails, leaving you with a disturbing feeling of familiarity and distance. The air between you is thick, amplifying the tension—your heart races, acutely aware of the formidable presence that looms just out of reach.
"Okay," you mumble, your voice barely breaking through the haze surrounding you. His words drift just above you, their meaning slipping away like water through your fingers. You strain to focus, feeling the weight of the world pressing down as if you're submerged, the relentless sound of white noise thrumming in your ears, muffling everything around you. The room feels distant, a surreal blur, as you try to tether yourself to his voice, grappling with the fog that clouds your thoughts.
Gaz nods reassuringly, his gaze locked onto yours as you try to make sense of the world around you. He can see the confusion in your eyes, which fuels his sense of urgency. He needs you to be alert and focused. His mind races through possible solutions to counteract the effects of the sex pollen, but for now, he has to rely on the bond you two share. He leans in further, his warm breath skimming your cheek as he whispers into your ear.
“Stay with me,” he commands. “You’re safe.” His fingers trace light circles on your shoulder, sending waves of heat rippling across your skin. He inhales deeply, catching a whiff of your scent, the intoxicating combination of sweat and adrenaline that lingers around you. It takes everything in him not to succumb to the primal urges that threaten to consume him.
You lean into his touch, a soft moan escaping your lips as waves of relief wash over you. His gloves' cool, smooth leather glides against your heated skin, sending shivers through your body. Each contact feels electric, drawing you deeper into the moment. The contrast between the gloves' chill and your warmth creates a delicious tension that heightens every sensation.
Though his voice drips like gentle rain, soothing in its cadence, the words themselves are a labyrinth of foreign sounds entirely incomprehensible to your mind. A storm of confusion swirls within you, the pressure building in your head until it feels like it might burst. You press your palms against your temples, desperation creeping in while beads of sweat trickle down, soaking into the fabric of your gloves. Each pulse of your heart seems to resonate with the ache, amplifying the disarray that envelops your thoughts. You let out a scream or a cry, but you're not sure. Everything hurts. You want it to end.
The familiar voice calls out again, but the words remain elusive, slipping through your grasp like mist. The oppressive heat weighs heavily upon you, and when you finally blink open your eyes, the world comes back into focus in a hazy blur. The air around you shimmers, intensifying the scene with a disorienting shimmer that barely calms your racing heart.
You struggle to keep your eyes open, but the weight of the pain forces you to squeeze them shut. What began as a dull throb has escalated into a piercing ache, sharp and relentless. The fever escalates alongside it, engulfing you in a searing heat that feels like your skin might ignite. It’s a sensation so intense that you wonder if, in the end, there will be no trace left—no ashes to float away and no remnants of you at all.
Your fingers weave tightly into your hair, gripping the sides of your head as a muffled whimper escapes your lips. Waves of agony crash over you, relentless and suffocating, each pulse blending into a fog of suffering that envelops your mind. Confusion grips your heart as you struggle to grasp the reasons behind this torment. All you desire is relief, a reprieve from this unending cycle of hurt. You long for the solace of feeling okay again, for the quiet calm that seems so far away.
A sense of clarity begins to wash over you as your eyes flutter open again. You find yourself gazing up at Gaz, who appears utterly terrified. Beads of sweat glisten on his skin, catching the light like tiny jewels as he inhales sharply, chest rising and falling in quick, frantic bursts. His wide eyes are consumed by darkness, pupils dilating to sinister black voids that seem to pull you in, reflecting a storm of fear within him.
“Are we going to die?” The words tumble from your lips, sounding foreign and shaky as if they belong to someone else. A tremor of fear grips you, and in that moment, you feel like a frightened little girl, lost in a world that suddenly seems far too big and threatening. Your heart pounds painfully in your chest, and the reality of the situation sinks in, wrapping around you like a suffocating shroud.
Kyle’s heart skips a beat at the sight of your fear-stricken face, your pain evident in every tense line. His protective instincts kick in, and he gently brushes aside a damp strand of hair from your forehead. He wants to scoop you up in his arms and shield you from the danger surrounding you.
"No," he murmurs, his voice steady despite the turmoil. "We're not going to die," he reiterates firmly, hoping the conviction in his words will penetrate your haze of agony. His gloved fingers trail down your cheek, the soft touch meant to soothe. He leans closer, his lips brushing your earlobe. "But we need to find a way out of here," he whispers urgently. With a deep breath, Gaz straightens up and scans the room, searching for any clue that might lead to their escape or an antidote.
“Gaz,” you murmur, your voice barely breaking through the haze of emotion as you reach for his hand, your fingers entwining with his in a desperate grip. A surge of warmth radiates through your palms, but the tremor in your hands betrays your fear. Tears pool in your eyes, glistening like fragile diamonds before spilling down your cheeks, tracing warm paths through the cool air. You blink up at him, your gaze pleading and filled with an unspoken weight. Uncertainty clouds your mind, but one thing is crystal clear—you need him to stay, to anchor you in this moment that feels so precarious.
Kyle’s hand tightens around yours, his thumb gently stroking the back of your knuckles. He can see the raw emotion etched on your face and feels his resolve solidifying. He can't let anything happen to you. Kyle swallows down his fear, his expression turning grimly determined as he looks into those pools of vulnerability in your eyes.
“We've got this,” he assures you, voice steady despite the throbbing need pulsing through his veins from the pollen's effects. “We’re in this together, right?” He squeezes your hand again, his gaze never wavering from yours, trying to convey his determination.
He clears his throat as he fights to maintain his composure amidst the growing lust, “We need to secure this area, make sure there's nothing else waiting for us.” He glances around the room quickly before returning his attention to you.
“No!” You shout, pressing your cheek to the cool tile, tears streaming river over your cheeks and onto the floor beneath you. Your chin trembles, your lip wobbles, your brows furrow together as your eyes squeeze shut. You sniffle, feeling snot blocking your sinuses.
You feel your pussy leaking, soaking your panties pressed against your sensitive core. “I need you…” Your voice emerges hoarse and trembling, each word dripping with urgency and desperation as if you're fighting against the very weight of your plea.
Kyle’s breath catches at your begging, his body reacting instinctively to the raw desperation in your voice. He can feel his control slipping under the potent influence of the pollen. Still, he fights it back with every ounce of willpower. He says your name hoarsely, leaning down to bring his forehead against yours, your combined breaths mingling between you.
We have to get out of here. He wants to tell you, but the words get caught in his throat as your scent invades his senses, sending a wave of need coursing through him. Instead, he pulls you against him, holding you close as if to shield you from the effects of the pollen. His fingers skim up and down your arm soothingly, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.
Kyle closes his eyes, trying to ground himself, but your warmth only serves to fan the flames burning inside him. He grits his teeth, struggling to maintain composure, and whispers, “I'm here; I won't leave you.”
You moan at the feeling of his weight pressing against you and the sound of his voice in your ears, reverberating and bouncing off the walls inside your head, filling you with lustful thoughts of desire.
Your arms encircle him, drawing his body against yours in a tender embrace. You breathe deeply, inhaling his unique scent that lingers in the air, flooding your senses with warmth. A rush of desire washes over you, causing your mouth to pool with saliva as your eyes flutter shut, savoring the moment. Your heartbeat gradually shifts to a steady rhythm, yet you can't help but feel that he might sense the quickened pulse thrumming in your chest. With a gentle back arch, you press yourself closer to him, feeling the heat radiating between you as you melt into the connection.
A heavy shame unfurls within you, seeping into every corner of your being. The unsettling realization that this person is your coworker looms over you like a dark cloud, casting a shadow on your thoughts and emotions.
“I'm sorry.” You croak through sniffles, gripping tightly onto his vest as his leg presses up against your clothed pussy, your clit rubbing against the denim muscle of his thigh. You’ve never felt such an intense sensation of relief and pleasure.
He shakes his head. “No—there’s nothing to be sorry for,” The tremor in his voice catches you off guard, a stark contrast to the usual calm demeanor he exudes. It’s unsettling, this flicker of vulnerability, the way his words stumble over each other, laced with an anxiety you’ve never seen in him before. The atmosphere feels charged, with an unfamiliar tension hanging heavily between you, leaving you both on uncertain ground.
Kyle swallows hard, and the thickness of the air is palpable. He can feel your arousal, your body trembling against him, and it takes every ounce of self-control he has not to give in to the overwhelming desire. His mind races through possible ways to get you both out of this situation without succumbing to the pollen's effects, but the fog of lust makes it challenging to focus.
He rubs his cheek against yours, feeling your hot breath against his skin, sending a shiver down his spine. He wants to reassure you, to tell you that you'll find a way out, but all that comes out is a low growl of frustration. Instead, he tightens his hold on you, his hand slipping down to cup the small of your back, pulling you flush against his body. His leg presses harder against you, eliciting a soft gasp from your lips. He can hear your heartbeat pounding in sync with his, echoing in the confined space of the room. The scent of your arousal fills his nostrils, and he buries his face in your neck, taking a deep breath.
“We need to stay calm,” he manages to say, though his voice is strained. “We'll figure something out together.” He lifts his head, looking into your eyes, and for a brief moment, everything else fades away. The weight of the world, your mission, and your professional relationship disappear, leaving only the raw, primal connection between you.
“But right now,” he murmurs, his lips hovering over yours, “I need to taste you.”
The pollen's influence is stronger now, and the desire to claim you entirely consumes him. He knows it's wrong, that you’re both vulnerable and compromised, but he can't ignore the instinctive pull. His thumb traces the edge of your lower lip, savoring its softness.
He leans in, capturing your mouth in a deep, passionate kiss. His tongue explores you, seeking solace in your warmth as he rushes to remove your gear, fumbling with the straps as he grunts out profanities in his frustration.
Once free of your confinement, his hand slides up to cup your breast, feeling the hardness of your nipple through your shirt. He moans low in his throat, the sound rumbling between you as he rolls the sensitive peak between his fingers.
He breathes your name, his voice husky and desireful. “We need to fight this...but I want you so much.” He nuzzles your neck, kissing and nipping at the sensitive skin. His body screams for release, but he fights against it, trying to remain grounded in reality.
“We can't let this control us,” he whispers, his resolve wavering as his fingers trace down your stomach to the waistband of your pants. He wants to feel your skin against his, to erase the distance.
“We already have,” you remind him, bucking your hips against his thigh, grounding yourself in back-and-forth motions, chasing your release.
Kyle groans at your words. He knows you’re both losing control, but the rational part of his brain is drowning in a sea of desire. He presses his thigh firmer against you, wanting to give you the relief you seek, even as his own need grows stronger. His hand slips lower, feeling the smooth skin of your stomach, and he trails his fingers upwards to tease your breast over your bra.
“Fuck,” he mutters, his control fraying. He captures your mouth in another searing kiss, his tongue tangling with yours as his fingers work to unfasten the buttons of your tactical pants.
He gasps your name, breaking away. “I don't want to take advantage of you like this.” His breath comes out in ragged pants, but his hand continues to explore your body, tracing the lace edge of your underwear. He's torn between his duty to protect you and the urge to claim you as his own. The scent of your arousal intensifies, driving him closer to the edge.
A small voice whispers in the back of his mind, "This isn't right," but it's drowned out by the thunderous roar of his pulse and the desperate need to be closer. Gaz leans in again, gently capturing your earlobe between his teeth and suckling.
“But I need you,” he confesses, his voice strained with longing. He slides his hand down to cup your mound, feeling the heat radiating from your core. His thumb circles your clit, eliciting a keening cry from your lips. He wants to hear you come apart under his touch, to know that he's the one giving you pleasure.
Gaz's breath hitches as your body arches against his touch, your fingers digging into his shoulders. The feel of you, so warm and willing, is almost too much to bear. His arousal strains against his pants, but he refuses to give in completely, his protective instincts still fighting against the pollen's influence.
He moves his hand lower, slipping under your underwear, his fingers finding your wetness. He slides two fingers inside you with ease, stroking you slowly as he continues to tease your clit with his thumb. Gaz can't help the groan that escapes his lips as your walls clench around him. He wants nothing more than to bury himself inside you, to feel your body wrapped around him, but he forces himself to remain still, focusing on your pleasure instead.
He whispers reassurances against your neck, his voice a low rumble, “It's alright,” he whispers your name. “Let go.” He picks up the pace, his fingers steadily moving in and out of you. When you finally cry out, your body shuddering in climax, Kyle feels a surge of satisfaction mixed with a deep, desperate ache. He kisses you deeply, trying to convey everything he can't put into words. As your tremors subside, he withdraws his hand, adjusting himself discreetly.
Gaz holds you close, relishing in the warmth of your body pressed against his. He gently strokes your back, waiting for your breathing to return to normal. As you relax in his arms, Gaz can't ignore the throbbing desire still coursing through his veins. With your head nestled against his chest, Gaz tries to calm his raging heartbeat. The effects haven't worn off, and his need for you remains potent.
Gaz's hold on you tightens as your body melts into his after your climax, savoring the feel of you against him. Kyle swallows hard, struggling to contain his arousal as he holds you close. He can feel your heartbeat slowing, your breaths evening out as you nuzzle into his chest.
“Tell me what you need,” he groans, his voice laced with a deep yearning. He pulls back slightly, his intense gaze locking onto yours, revealing a hunger that dances in his eyes, almost making the air between you crackle with anticipation.
“Just…” you whine in frustration, squirming underneath him. “Fuck me, use me, please!”
Gaz's eyes widen at your plea, and the last thread of his control snaps. His fingers curl into her shirt, pulling you closer as he crushes his lips against yours again. He can taste the desperation in your kiss, and it only fans the flames burning within him.
Gaz rolls you over with a low growl so you are beneath him. His hips grind against yours, seeking relief from the pressure building in his groin. He kisses your neck, sucking and nibbling at your sensitive skin as he fumbles with the zipper of his trousers. Kyle’s mind races, a cacophony of lustful thoughts and memories of your previous encounters fueling his desire. He can't deny the animalistic instincts surging through him anymore – he needs you more than air itself. Gaz positions himself at your entrance, pausing briefly to gaze into your eyes.
“Are you sure?” he asks, his voice husky and strained. He doesn't want to hurt you, but the pollen's influence is strong. When you nod, your eyes glazed with desire, Gaz thrusts into you, filling you. He groans at the sensation of your tight heat enveloping him, the feeling unlike anything he's ever experienced. Gaz begins to move, setting a steady rhythm that soon turns frantic. With every stroke, he loses more of himself to his instincts, giving in to the urges that demand release.
Gaz's pace quickens, his hips driving into you with an urgency that borders desperation. He feels your body responding, your walls clenching around him, pulling him deeper. The sounds of your heavy breathing and moans fill the small space as the pollen continues to heighten your arousal.
His hands roam your body, exploring every curve and contour as if memorizing your essence. He whispers your name like a prayer, the word falling from his lips in ragged breaths. At this moment, nothing matters but you – your pleasure, safety, and existence. His movements become erratic, every muscle in his body coiling tightly as the orgasm builds.
Gaz buries his face in your neck, nipping at your skin as he fights to keep from completely losing control. He wants this moment to last forever, remain connected to you, and feel you wrapped around him. But the pressure is too great, and with one final, powerful thrust, Gaz succumbs to his desire. His body trembles as he finds release, his warmth filling you. He collapses onto you, gasping for air, as the pollen's effects threaten to consume him entirely.
He reluctantly pulls out of you, savoring the sensation of your bodies separating. Gaz rolls off you onto his side and gathers you close, cradling you against him. His hand absently strokes your arm, tracing patterns on your skin as his mind begins to clear. The drug’s hold on him is still strong, but the edge of desperation has dulled somewhat.
He gently kisses your forehead, whispering, “I'm sorry.”
You sit up on top of him, ignoring his words as you lift the hem of his shirt, grinding your pussy across his abs, still chasing your high. It was like you had no control over your body, at the mercy of its every whim and desire.
“I need…more,”
Kyle's heart skips a beat at the sight of you sitting astride him, your expression desperate and hungry. His body responds instantly, hardening once again despite the recent release. He swallows thickly, struggling to regain control over his raging libido.
Gaz breathes your name heavily, hands clenching beside him as he watches you. The memory of your warmth clenching around him is still lingering, and he feels a renewed sense of urgency growing inside. Despite his concern for your wellbeing, his lust retakes hold, pushing him further into the abyss of desire.
He can't deny that he wants more – needs more – but he tries to reason with himself and fight against the gas’s control. Yet, as you look down at him with pleading eyes, Kyle's resolve weakens further. With a deep sigh, he gives in to the urges once more.
“Alright, love...” he rumbles, grabbing your hips firmly and pulling you back down onto his erection. Gaz thrusts upward, driving himself deep inside you, as a groan rips from his throat. He closes his eyes and allows himself to drown in your tightness, enveloping him again. Every nerve ending in his body sparks to life as you move together, lost in the throes of passion.
Gaz's eyes darken as he watches your hips rolling against his, your breasts swaying enticingly with each movement. He reaches up to cup one breast, thumbing your nipple in time with his erratic rhythm. His other hand slides between you, finding your swollen clit, and begins to rub it in slow circles, eliciting a sharp gasp from you.
Gaz's breath comes in short pants as he watches you move above him, your body undulating in a sensual dance that drives him wild. His fingers tighten on your hips, guiding your movements with an increasing urgency.
He leans forward, capturing your breast in his mouth, suckling your nipple as he continues to tease your clit. Your moans spur him on, pushing him further into the vortex of lust that threatens to consume you both.
Gaz's thoughts are a jumbled mess of want and worry – he doesn't want to lose control completely, but the temptation is overwhelming. He raises his head to meet your lips again, kissing you deeply as your bodies move in perfect sync. When you gasp against his mouth, Gaz feels you tighten around him, signaling your impending release. He quickens his pace with a growl of possession, driving you both toward the edge.
Gaz's eyes fly open as he feels your orgasm wash over you, your inner muscles spasming around him. He groans deeply, unable to hold back any longer. With a final, powerful thrust, Gaz releases himself inside you, riding the wave of pleasure that crashes through his body. As the intensity subsides, he pulls you down onto his chest, holding you tightly. His heart pounds against yours as you both struggle to catch your breath.
Gaz's mind races, trying to process the situation. He knows the pollen is playing tricks on you – amplifying your desires beyond reason – but he can't ignore that he genuinely wants this. He craves you like he's never craved anything before.
His hands explore your body again, tracing lazy patterns across your skin as he tries to formulate a plan. He has to find a cure – for both of your sakes. But for now, you’re trapped in this cycle of lust and need. Gaz rolls you over with a frustrated grumble, so you're beneath him again. He kisses you deeply, his tongue delving into your mouth as if seeking answers there. He wants to repeatedly lose himself in you, forgetting about the mission and the danger lurking just outside the door.
summary: dirty boyfriend likes soapy titties (pun intended)
tags/trigger warnings: 18+, f!reader, p in v, fingering, shower sex, praise, author tries really hard at accents
wc: 1.3k
MASTERLIST
The soothing sound of water spraying from the faucet broke the silence, creating a gentle rhythm against the backdrop of stillness. Hot water poured forth, sending steam curling into the air, thickening the atmosphere with warmth. The mirror gradually fogged over, obscuring your reflection as the water cascaded down your back, streaming like a warm embrace. Each droplet danced along your spine, soaking through your hair and saturating your scalp, enveloping you in a cocoon of relaxation and comfort.
You let out a deep sigh, the weight of the moment pressing down on you. Your fingers skim over your face, tracing the lines of your exhaustion before they glide over your scalp. As you tilt your head back, warm water droplets cascade down, tickling your cheeks and mingling with the remnants of your worries, momentarily washing them away.
You heard a knock on the door, your eyes blinking open before a voice came from behind it, “Oi, lass! Mind if ah join yeh? Ah’ve been cravin’ a wee shower; ah just got back from the gym.”
You smiled softly to yourself, letting out an airy chuckle before calling back, allowing him to enter.
As he entered the bathroom, you couldn't help but appreciate his silhouette through the frosted glass door, his shirt off, and his muscles on display. Your heartbeat quickened, and your eyes trailed his movements hungrily. You watched him strip off his gym clothes, letting them pool at his feet.
He opened the shower door and joined you, allowing the heat to envelop him completely. His gaze locked with yours as he reached for the shower gel, squeezing some into a washcloth. The familiar citrus scent filled the air, and he began to lather himself up, working the suds over his stocky frame. Your eyes followed his movements—your desire for him was evident.
"Mind if ah...help yeh wash up?" He asked, his voice low and husky, the Scottish burr rolling off his tongue like a secret promise.
Inside the shower, he stepped closer to you, the water now cascading down around you both. His hand gently took the rag from yours, your fingertips grazing. His gaze held yours for a moment longer before he began to trace the rag softly across your shoulders, slowly working his way down your arms.
He could sense you relaxing under his touch, your breath hitching slightly as he moved closer, his chest brushing against yours.
Feeling your body react to his touch, he couldn't help but let his desires take over. His hands continued to glide across your skin, exploring your curves and contours as he moved the washcloth in slow, deliberate circles.
He leaned forward, his lips brushing against the nape of your neck as he moved the rag down your back. His hand followed suit, kneading your tense muscles, trying to ease away the day's stress. His breaths were hot against your skin, and you shivered in response. As his fingers traced the small of your waist, he pulled you closer to him, pressing his hips against yours.
The heat of your bodies melded together, and he groaned low in his throat as your body reacted to his touch. John let the rag drop to the shower floor, and his hands began to explore you further, skimming across your hips and up to your full breasts. His thumbs brushed against your nipples, teasing them into hardened peaks. Your eyes fluttered closed, your head tilting back to rest on his shoulder, allowing him access to your neck and ears—sensitive spots he knew all too well. His lips trailed along the side of your neck, nipping, and suckling as he went, eliciting a soft moan from you. The sound was music to his ears, and it made his cock twitch with interest.
He whispered into your ear, "Is this okay, love?" You nodded in response, your lips parted, and your eyes closed shut, succumbing to the pleasure you were receiving.
Your heart pounded in your chest like a drum as he continued his exploration of your body, his hands sliding down your sides, over your hips, and finally settling between your thighs. His fingers gently probed your folds, finding you wet and ready for him. He groaned, his cock hardening further against your backside.
"Fuck, you're so wet." The words slipped out as he slid two fingers inside you, curving them slightly to stroke your sweet spot. He reveled in your soft gasps and moans, the way your body clenched around his fingers, and the way your hips began to move involuntarily against his hand.
He increased the pace, wanting to bring you to the edge before he claimed you fully. His thumb found your clit, rubbing slow circles that made your body quiver. His hand cupped your jaw, turning your face back and upwards. His lips found yours, capturing them in a passionate kiss as your tongues tangled together.
He broke the kiss, panting heavily, and whispered, "Turn around, lass. Ah, want tae look at yeh." His voice as you turned, he lifted your leg to wrap around his waist as he reached down and adjusted his stiff cock, positioning it at your entrance. With a slow, deliberate motion, he pushed himself into you, savoring the feel of your warmth enveloping him.
Your eyes locked onto his, filled with lust and trust. He began moving slowly initially, allowing you to adjust to his size. The water cascaded down you both, creating a rhythm that matched his thrusts. He leaned in, pressing his forehead to yours. Your breaths mingled as you moved together.
"Ah fuck,” he groaned your name. “yeh feel so good," he murmured, his hands slid down your slippery skin, settling firm on your ass as he picked up the pace, driving himself deeper into you with each powerful stroke. Your nails dug into his shoulders, leaving red trails behind, but he welcomed the pain—it only heightened his pleasure. Your bodies collided, the slap of flesh echoing through the steamy shower stall.
With every thrust, you felt yourself getting closer to the brink, but you didn't want this moment to end. He reached forward, his fingers finding your nipples and rolling them gently between his thumb and forefinger, eliciting a soft whimper from your lips.
"Aye, just like that." he encouraged, watching as you bit your lip, trying to hold back the moans threatening to escape. He pressed his hips forward, grinding against your clit, and felt your walls clench around him.
As he saw your pleasure build, he couldn't help but smile. "That's it, love, let go for me." His words were a gentle command, spoken through clenched teeth as he fought to hold back his release. The sight of you in front of him—your breasts bouncing, your eyes half-closed, your lips parted—was almost too much to bear. He slammed into you harder, your bodies slapping together in the rhythm of your lustful dance.
His thumb replaced his fingers on your clit, rubbing circles as his other hand supported your waist. "Oh God, John..." you moaned, your head falling back as your orgasm neared. His name on your lips was the final straw—he felt himself reach the peak, and with a primal growl, he exploded inside you, triggering you to fall over your precipice.
His hips jerked involuntarily, his cock pulsing as wave after wave of pleasure crashed through his body. He held onto you tightly, his muscles tensing as he rode out the storm of ecstasy. Slowly, your movements subsided, your panting breaths filling the quiet space along with the sound of water hitting the shower floor. He kissed your neck, his forehead still pressed to your, and whispered, "Ah fucking love yeh."
You kissed his face, pressing your lips against his damp skin for a moment longer than necessary. “I love you too.”
the twist u add on the words in ur könig fics r the besy like zink n vell its actually so cool ive never seen this before i love you
Hey, Anon! Thanks so much! I was considering not writing out the phonetics in my future posts because I've read online that it's not widely accepted.
When writing a character with a distinct accent, I try to look up how to write out their speech as accurately as possible (I'm an American). I found this site, which I used to write out his speech. However, a lot of people are against phonetics. Some people say it takes them out of the story, and others say it is offensive.
I think it adds charm to the story and character and helps me hear their accent in my head, but I don't know. I'm glad you like it!
summary: he treats ‘em mean to keep ‘em keen
tags/trigger warnings: 18+, f!reader, fingering, angst, toxic!könig, degradation, mean!könig, dom!könig, sub!reader
wc: 2.3k
MASTERLIST
Since König returned from deployment, it seems he has adopted a new mission: to keep his distance from you at all costs. He has retreated into his office, a sanctuary of solitude, where he immerses himself in work or his thoughts, only emerging when necessary. The once frequent conversations and shared laughter have been replaced by an almost tangible silence, leaving an air of tension that lingers in the spaces between you. Each time you pass by his closed door, you can’t shake the feeling that he’s deliberately avoiding any interaction, further deepening the chasm that has formed since his return.
Each morning, while the sun is still barely peeking over the horizon, he quietly slips out of the house while you remain asleep, oblivious to his departure. When he returns, the front door creaks open, and he strides in, a trail of energy and determination radiating from him. He barely acknowledges your presence, offering just a few hasty words and a faint smile before he vanishes down the hallway, leaving you with a sense of longing and the faint sound of his footsteps fading away.
A persistent worry lingers in your mind, a heavy blanket of concern that only deepens each time he dismisses you with a wave. It fills you with a deep sense of loneliness and frustration as if an invisible wall has gone up between you. With these feelings swirling inside, you find yourself drawn to his office, the familiar path lined with uncertainty. As you approach, a wave of shyness washes over you, your heart racing as you pause briefly outside the door. Summoning your courage, you raise your hand and knock gently, the sound echoing in the quiet hallway. The door swings open, and he stands, towering over you with his penetrating glare, freezing you in place.
"Ah," he grunts your name, stepping aside to allow you entrance into his office, his gaze never wavering. You notice his jaw clenching slightly as he takes in your presence, the only sign of emotion on his otherwise stoic face. The room is dimly lit, filled with stacks of papers and various military paraphernalia, reflecting the organized chaos of his mind. He moves behind his desk, the space between you now occupied by a barrier of cold metal and dark wood. Leaning forward, König's blue eyes narrow as they scan your face.
"What brings you here, Liebchen?" he asks gruffly, his thick German accent adding an edge to his already commanding tone. The endearment feels forced, starkly contrasting the intimacy it once held.
“I just…wanted to talk to you,” you confessed, your voice steady despite the flutter of nerves in your stomach. The words tumbled out, each laced with hesitation and determination as you met their gaze, hoping to convey the sincerity behind your request.
His expression remains impassive, but König’s eyes soften slightly at your admission. He gestures towards the chair before his desk, inviting you to sit. “About?” he questions, his tone clipped and guarded, betraying none of the emotions he might be feeling.
“I just feel like I've been spending all this time waiting for you to come home and…well…” your voice trails off, your eyes darting to the ground as his eyes narrow, his lips pulling into a thin line and the creases around his eyes deepen.
“I want to give you space, but…I miss you.” You finish, your voice gradually growing quieter as your eyes flicker back up to his face, pouting at his expression.
Leaning back in his chair, he crosses his arms over his broad chest and releases a heavy sigh. "I'm here now, aren't I?" he grumbles, a hint of annoyance seeping into his voice. "And what do you expect me to do? Dance attendance on you every hour of the day?" He shakes his head, a bitter smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "I have responsibilities. Things that can't be ignored because you miss me." The words sting, laced with anger and frustration—a toxic cocktail of emotions that he doesn't mean to direct at you but finds himself unable to contain.
“Isn’t there any way I can help?” you implore, your voice trembling as the weight of his words crashes down on you. Each syllable feels like a blade, slicing through your resolve and leaving a deep ache in your throat as if the air around you thickens with tension.
Slowly leaning forward, König's gaze becomes predatory as he assesses you, taking in your vulnerability like a starving animal. He wants to reject you—to lash out and push you away. But he also wants to use your body to release the pent-up frustration that's been eating at him since his return. The contradiction wars within him, but eventually, the beast wins out.
His voice drops an octave, turning dark and commanding as he says, "There is one thing you can do for me." The air grows tense as he rises from his chair and circles his desk, closing the distance between you. Standing behind you, he places a large hand on your shoulder, fingers digging into your flesh with a possessive grip. His breath is hot on your ear as he leans down and growls, "Bend over this desk, Liebchen, and show me how much you've missed me."
Your gaze dances across his features, taking in the subtle curve of his jaw and how his eyes bore into you so hot it sends a cold shiver down your spine. As you chew anxiously on your lip, a wave of nervous energy sweeps through you. Your fingers tightly clutch the hem of the shirt that belongs to him, the fabric soft against your skin.
Hesitantly, you turn around, bracing your hands against the hardwood before his hand immediately finds home on the small of your back, pushing you forward until you are arched underneath him.
With a twisted smirk, König watches you submit to his demand, the sight of your body arched over his desk, igniting a fire deep within him. He grips your shoulder tight, fingers digging into your skin as he leans closer, his breath hot and heavy against your neck. The scent of your arousal fills his nostrils, fueling his primal need to dominate.
He leans over you, his large frame casting a shadow over yours as he whispers harshly, "Good girl." The words contradict his thoughts—he doesn't think you're good. But he can't deny the way your submission makes him feel powerful and in control. It's a heady sensation that drowns out the noise of his past, if only for a moment.
His fingers trace the curve of your hip before he roughly grabs at your waistband, tugging your underwear down to expose your bare flesh. He lingers there for a moment, savoring the vulnerability you offer him before giving your ass a hard smack. The sound echoes through the room, followed by your sharp gasp.
"Is this what you want? To be used and discarded like some worthless whore?" His voice is cold, devoid of any warmth or affection. His other hand reaches around to cup your breast, squeezing firmly as he grinds his hips against your ass, letting you feel the hard length of him pressed against you.
“M’not a whore…” you mumble, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.
He leans closer, his lips brushing against your earlobe as he growls, "Then prove it. Show me how much you want me." His hand leaves your breast to trail down your stomach, stopping just short of your sex.
With a sigh, he pushes aside his conflicting emotions and dips his fingers into your wetness, his eyes closing briefly in satisfaction as he hears your breath hitch. "You're mine," he murmurs, claiming ownership over your body to distract you as he begins to stroke you.
“M’yours,” you subconsciously nod your head, pushing your hips back against his hand, sighing at the pleasure. Despite his rough treatment, it had been so long since you’d been touched that you couldn't help but give in to your desires.
A low rumble of approval emanates from König's chest as you submit further to his touch, your body responding to his every command. He savors the moment, relishing in the power dynamic between you two. His fingers move with purposeful strokes, teasing and tormenting your sensitive flesh until your moans fill the room.
Despite his harsh demeanor, he knows exactly how to manipulate your body to elicit pleasure. He leans forward, pressing his lips against the nape of your neck, nipping lightly at the soft skin.
"Say it again," he demands, his voice gruff with desire. "Who do you belong to?" In his mind, he's both the monster craving control and the protector seeking solace. The dichotomy is almost too much to bear, but he buries it beneath layers of anger and lust. When you whisper his name, he can't help the surge of satisfaction that courses through him.
"Good," he growls, pushing two fingers inside you without warning. The invasion is rough, but you're wet enough to accommodate him. König watches your body tense and tremble, his arousal growing with each whimper that escapes your lips. He begins to thrust his fingers rhythmically, his movements mirroring those of his past—fast, relentless, and unyielding. He wants to consume you, to erase all traces of pain and fear. As he claims you in this twisted dance of dominance, he finds himself craving the release that only you can provide.
As you whimper and squirm under his touch, he clenches his teeth, fighting against the turmoil as he increases the tempo of his thrusts. His thumb circles your clit mercilessly, each touch designed to send shockwaves of pleasure crashing through you. His breaths grow labored as he works your body, the sound echoing through the quiet room like a battle cry.
When you finally come apart beneath him, your body convulsing in orgasm, König feels a fleeting moment of triumph—a victory against the demons that haunt him. But it's short-lived, quickly replaced by an insatiable hunger for more. He pulls his fingers free from your trembling body and steps back, his gaze raking over your form as he undoes his pants, revealing his straining erection.
Without another word, he grabs your hips, pulling you towards him until you're flush against his length. With a single, brutal thrust, he enters you, filling you. Your gasp sends a shiver down his spine, only spurring him on. He drives into you, each movement hard and fast—a punishment for your perceived transgressions and a desperate attempt to quell his inner turmoil. His hands roam your body, leaving bruises in their wake as he takes what he believes is rightfully his. In the throes of passion, König forgets his logical nature, allowing raw instinct to guide him as he seeks solace in your submission.
His grip on your hips tightens as he continues to drive into you relentlessly, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing in the dimly lit room.
His pace quickens, each thrust becoming more brutal than the last. He's lost in the moment, his mind consumed by primal urges. "You like that, huh?" he grunts, his voice thick with lust as he watches you writhe beneath him. He can see the pain etched on your face, but it's mixed with something darker and more alluring.
He revels in your whimpers, using them as fuel for his pleasure. He reaches around, grabs a fistful of your hair, and pulls your head back, forcing you to meet his gaze.
König's eyes blaze with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. He doesn't say anything, but his expression speaks volumes. He's in control now and won't stop until he gets what he wants. With a snarl, he thrusts even harder, slamming into you with a force that makes your teeth chatter. You can feel every inch of him inside you, stretching you to your limits. Despite the pain, your body betrays you, clenching around him in a desperate attempt to draw him deeper. It's as if your submission is the only thing keeping him grounded, and he feeds off it like a starving man at a feast.
He tightens his grip on your hair, tilting your head to the side to expose your vulnerable neck. Leaning down, he bites into the soft flesh, marking you as his own. The sting of pain causes you to cry out, but it's quickly followed by a wave of pleasure that threatens to drown you. König's breath is hot against your ear as he whispers,
"Scream for me, little bird. Let everyone hear how much you love this." He grins cruelly, knowing that he's pushing your boundaries further than ever before. And yet, you do as he commands, your voice rising in a keening wail that fills the room. The sound spurs him on, driving him to new heights of ecstasy. He slams into you again and again, each thrust harder than the last until he feels himself nearing the brink of release.
With one final thrust, he empties himself inside you, his entire body trembling with the force of his orgasm. He withdraws slowly, his eyes never leaving yours as he takes in the sight of your flushed cheeks and swollen lips, his cum dribbling out of your gaping pussy and trailing down your thighs.
You turn your head, and your lips curve into a lazy smile. As your chest stutters in an attempt to catch your breath, you ask, “Did I help?”
Slowly releasing his grip on your hair, König allows your head to fall forward, his gaze lingering on the bite mark he left on your neck. A smirk plays at the corner of his mouth as he studies the flush on your face.
"For now," he replies, his voice still heavy with desire, his hands tracing a possessive path from the hollow of your throat to the curve of your hipbone. His touch is almost reverent, belying the rough handling from moments ago. "But I'm not finished with you yet."
summary: simon really wants to make you squirt
tags/trigger warnings: 18+, f!reader, fingering, cunnilingus, praise, body worship, overstimulation, dom!simon, sub!reader
wc: 1.1k
MASTERLIST
Simon loomed over you, his dark hair in disarray as he stared down at you with an intense hunger you should’ve gotten used to by now. He had spent almost the entire evening between your thighs, urgent and impatient. Every time you came, whether it was around his tongue or his fingers, it was never good enough. He’d glare at your pussy; his wet lips pulled into a thin line as if it had done him a disservice.
“What’s wrong?” Came your breathless voice, shy and soft after cumming so many times, almost close to double digits. Some of you felt insecure, but knowing Simon, it probably had nothing to do with you.
He didn’t look away, his gaze lingering between your legs. “Nothing’s wrong, love,” Simon replied in a deep, smoky tone, the Manchester accent adding an edge to his words. He pushed aside your concerns, grabbing ahold of your thighs to spread them wider. He admired the view—the way your pussy glistened from his previous attention, the slight swell of arousal, and the way your body trembled beneath him.
Simon dipped his head again, his tongue tracing slow circles around your clit. He could taste your sweetness and feel the pulse beneath his lips, driving him wild. He loved how you squirmed, and your hands clutched his hair and tugged him closer. But tonight, he wanted more. He wanted to see you completely lose control, to hear those gasping moans turn into cries of pleasure.
He slid two fingers inside of you, curving them just right to hit your G-spot. He began to pump them rhythmically, his tongue flicking against your clit in perfect unison. Simon knew your body better than you did—he’d studied every twitch, every moan, every sigh. He loved the way you reacted to his touch, the way you melted under his command. He was in complete control at this moment and relished it. His arousal strained against his pants, but that wasn’t important right now. Your pleasure came first—always.
He added a third, stretching you just enough to send sparks of pleasure coursing through your body. “Come on,” Simon growled your name, his voice low and authoritative. “Give me what I want.”
“Wh-what?” You gasped, cut off by a high-pitched whine, bucking your hips as your jaw fell open, forming a perfect O-shape as wails poured from your mouth.
Simon smirked, his eyes darkening with desire as he watched you struggle for words. He knew exactly what he was doing to you and loved it. The feeling of your walls tightening around his fingers spurred him on, pushing him to drive deeper and faster. He curled his fingers slightly, massaging your g-spot relentlessly while his thumb took over the teasing of your clit. He loved hearing those wanton sounds escape your lips—it was all the confirmation he needed that he was doing this right. He licked his lips, tasting your arousal as it began to build again, his cock throbbing with anticipation.
With a determined glint in his eyes, Ghost leaned forward, pressing his thumb harder against your clit while his fingers continued their assault on your g-spot. “I want you to squirt for me,” he demanded, his voice low and husky.
He felt your body tensing beneath him, your muscles coiling like a spring. His fingers moved with precision—hard and fast, then slow and gentle, keeping your arousal at a fever pitch. He loved the way your breath hitched every time he hit that perfect spot, the way your hips bucked involuntarily.
You began to feel a strange sensation build in your lower stomach, the sensitive pressure growing and growing until you thought you might explode.
“That’s it, love,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. He slipped another finger inside of you, stretching you further, and increased the pressure on your clit. He knew you were so close and wouldn’t stop until you came apart in his hands.
“Wait–wait!” You whimpered, closing your legs around his arm, your thighs trapping his hand in place. “I’m…I’m gonna pee!” You warned, curling your fists into the sheets below, tossing your head in every direction as you tried to fight it.
Chuckling, Simon looked up at you, his expression of pure confidence. He knew your body better than you did, and he was fully aware you weren’t going to pee. “It’s just your body letting go, love,” he assured you, his voice steady and commanding. He continued his relentless assault, fingers working in tandem with his thumb while he watched your face contort with pleasure.
“Let me take care of you,” he murmured, kissing your inner thigh gently. The sensation was overwhelming, your orgasm building rapidly. Simon could feel your body tighten around his fingers, the slick heat pooling in his hand. He loved pushing you past your limits, showing you the intense pleasure your body was capable of experiencing. “Give it to me,” he urged, his thumb swirling faster against your clit.
Simon’s eyes narrowed with determination as he felt your body tense further. He knew you were so close that he wouldn’t let you stop now. His fingers moved faster, curling and thrusting inside of you, his thumb never ceasing its merciless teasing.
Your breath came in short, sharp gasps as you fought against the impending release. He leaned down, his lips hovering over your sensitive nub, and whispered, “You can do it,” he encouraged, murmuring your name between your legs. “Let go.” Then, he added a final touch—the slightest flick of his tongue against your clit—and that was it. Your entire body convulsed, your thighs clenched around his arm, and a torrent of liquid heat flooded over his fingers.
He groaned, his own need spiking as he watched the pleasure roll through you. His fingers were soaked, and he couldn't resist bringing them to his lips, tasting your release before slowly pulling away.
Simon groaned, his cock jerking painfully at the sight and sound of your climax. He watched intently as your face twisted in ecstasy, committing the image to memory. Finally, as the last tremors subsided, he pulled his fingers out, slowly dragging them up your thigh and leaving a wet trail behind.
"Mmm...perfect," he murmured appreciatively, his voice thick with desire. He leaned back on his heels, giving you a moment to recover, while adjusting his pants. The sight of you, sprawled out and sated, was almost too much for him to handle. He'd never been one for romance or sentimentality, but he couldn't deny the primal urge to claim and mark you as his own.
“See?” he said, his voice thick with satisfaction. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”
summary: the first night after getting married is always special
tags/trigger warnings: 18+, f!reader, p in v, fingering, cunnilingus, praise, body worship, sweet lovemaking, fluff
wc: 1.2k
MASTERLIST
You let out a fit of giggles, watching your new husband press his face into your thigh, clamping his teeth around your lacy white garter before ripping it off your body, his large hands holding your legs apart.
He gazes up at you, his eyes sparkling with mischief before he drops the garter from the clutches of his mouth, letting it fall to the floor as he yanks your legs over his shoulders, burying his nose into your pubic mound.
With a low growl of desire, John's rough yet warm palms slide up the length of your thighs, his thumbs gently teasing your sensitive skin. He looks up at you, his gaze filled with a mix of lust and admiration. He whispers huskily, his voice dripping with desire, "Never imagined this is how I'd spend my nights. Never imagined I'd be lucky enough to call you mine." Before you can respond, his lips press against your center, his tongue tracing a path of fire as he tastes every inch of you hungrily.
John's gaze locks onto yours, his blue eyes piercing through the dimly lit room. He leans closer, his hot breath tickling your skin as his lips part in a sensuous smile. He slowly trails kisses upwards, along your thighs, leaving a path of warmth in his wake. With a firm grip on your hips, he pulls you closer, deepening the connection between the two of you. His tongue swirls around your clit, applying just the right amount of pressure to make your breath hitch.
The sound of your moans fuels his desire, driving him to please you further. He moves his lips down, delving deeper into your wetness, his tongue exploring every fold and curve.
Raising his head for a brief moment, John flashes a cocky grin, his cheeks flushed with desire. "You taste so bloody perfect," he murmurs against your skin, his voice gruff with need. He gently nibbles on your thigh, sending a shiver through your body.
John's fingers slide lower, teasing your entrance, testing your readiness. He smirks as you squirm beneath his touch, a thrill coursing through him. "You like that, love?" His eyes twinkle with a playful challenge as he circles your clit with the tip of his tongue. The salty tang of sweat mixes with the sweetness of your arousal, an intoxicating cocktail that makes his heart race.
He slides two fingers inside you, curling them expertly while continuing his assault on your clit. The rhythm is relentless, matching the tempo of his racing pulse.
John's eyes never leave yours as he works his fingers in and out of you, his thumb rubbing circles on your clit in tandem with the movements of his tongue.
He savors the feeling of your body tensing underneath him, the way your muscles contract around his fingers. His desire grows stronger, his erection straining against his trousers. He wants nothing more than to be inside you, but first, he needs to see you fall apart in his arms. John increases the pressure, his tongue flicking rapidly against your sensitive nerves.
"Come on,” he breathes your name. “Let go," he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin. He feels you getting closer, your moans turning desperate, your hips bucking against his mouth. John's fingers curl deeper inside you, his movements becoming more urgent. The room fills with the sounds of your pleasure, each gasp and moan spurring him on. He feels his release building, mirroring the storm brewing within you.
Finally, with a keening cry, you shatter beneath him, your body convulsing in ecstasy. John drinks in your pleasure, his release held at bay by sheer force of will. As your tremors subside, he slowly withdraws his fingers, planting a final kiss on your damp skin before rising to his feet.
With a satisfied sigh, John moves up your body, trailing kisses along your stomach, chest, and neck. He cradles your head in one hand, supporting it gently as he looms over you.
He reaches down with his other hand and unbuttons his trousers, freeing himself. John's erection springs forth, hard and insistent. He positions himself at your entrance, savoring the heat radiating from your core. Leaning in, he brushes his lips against yours, tasting yourself in your mouth.
With a fervent hunger, John's lips capture yours in a deep kiss, his tongue dancing against yours as he aligns himself with your entrance. His fingers flex against your hipbones as he pushes inside, filling you. He groans into your mouth, the sensation of you tightening around him sending shockwaves of pleasure through his body.
John breaks the kiss, his gaze never leaving yours as he begins to thrust. Each movement is deliberate and decisive, mirroring the intensity of his feelings. He wants to claim you and mark you as his own. The headboard thumps rhythmically against the wall, echoing the primal beat of their lovemaking. As John drives deeper into you, he lets out a low moan, his eyes narrowing with pleasure. His pace quickens, each thrust more brutal than the last.
John's grip tightens on your hips as he feels your body respond to his, the heat building between you two unbearable. His heart pounds in his chest, the adrenaline of the moment taking over. He leans down, capturing your mouth in another searing kiss, his tongue tangling with yours in a dance as old as time itself. As he moves inside you, John's thoughts become primal—each stroke a testament to his desire, each gasp from you a reward for a job well done.
He can't help but think back to all the times he's been close to death, all the moments he thought would be his last, and how they pale in comparison to this. With a growl, John breaks the kiss and whispers in your ear, "I love you." He nips at your earlobe, groaning your name into your ear, sending shivers down your spine.
He rolls his hips, changing the angle slightly, and you cry out in pleasure. The sound goes straight to his core, pushing him closer to the edge. John's movements become erratic, his breathing ragged. He lifts his head, eyes blazing into yours, and says, "Come for me, love." As if on command, your body tightens around him, and your orgasm crashes over you both. John follows suit, his release powerful and intense. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, his breath hot against your skin as he rides out the waves of pleasure.
When it finally subsides, John rolls off you, pulling you close to his side. He softly kisses your forehead, his hand idly stroking your arm as he catches his breath. His heart rate slows, and he feels a sense of peace he hasn't known in years.
In the aftermath of passion, John’s body cools down, his breathing evening out as he holds you close. He gazes at you with a tender smile, his thumb drawing lazy circles on your bare shoulder.
Leaning in, John nuzzles your neck, planting feather-light kisses along your collarbone. "My wife," he murmurs, his voice still rough with desire. His eyes roam over your flushed features, taking in every detail of your beauty. "You're mine,"
summary: time for another punishment
tags/trigger warnings: 18+, f!reader, spanking, oral sex(m!receiving), degradation, punishment, mean!könig, brattamer!könig, bratty!reader, sub!reader, dom!könig wc: 2.1k
a/n: what did we do this time?
MASTERLIST
Standing before him, your fingers wrapped tightly around the hem of your tiny club dress, feeling the soft fabric crinkle in your fist. The delicate material shimmered in the dim lighting as you shifted slightly, your heart racing. You peered into his cold, unforgiving gaze, a mix of fear and determination swirling within you.
The atmosphere was thick with unspoken tension, and you could sense the weight of his scrutiny. It was as if he could see through you, unraveling your thoughts and vulnerability.
König sat hunched over, his broad shoulders tense, with his elbows propped heavily on his knees. His gaze pierced through the dim light, unwavering as he fixed his unblinking icy blue eyes on you. A bead of sweat trickled down the back of your neck, sending a shiver along your spine. It was almost as if time had slowed as you began to count each long, dark lash that framed his intense stare, the weight of his presence wrapping around you like a thick fog.
“I’m sorry, König–” The moment the words slipped from your lips, you noticed his eyes narrowed slightly, a clear signal for you to stop speaking. The intensity of his gaze made your heart race as you instinctively complied, sealing your lips tightly together. You pressed them firmly, feeling the soft flesh meld, a barrier safeguarding the thoughts swirling in your mind. In that silence, unspoken words hung heavy, charged with an uncomfortable tension.
You knew you shouldn't have gone out when he told you no, but who was to tell you what you can and can't do? He's not your father, even if he pretends to be.
"So, you zink you can disobey me and zen come crawling back here vit no consequences, hmm?" König's voice was low, a deep rumble that seemed to vibrate through the room. He studied you intently; his hands clasped together in front of him, those piercing saucers seeing right through your defiant exterior.
He momentarily said nothing, letting his words sink in before rising from his seat in one fluid motion. With a single finger, he beckoned you closer, his stern expression unwavering. He reached out, grabbing your wrist firmly yet not cruelly, pulling you over to him. As he sat back down, he tugged you forward, guiding you over his lap with a strength that left you little room to protest.
He adjusted you on his lap, ensuring your bottom was positioned just right—centered and elevated over his muscular thighs. The rough fabric of his pants scraped against your sensitive skin, a stark contrast to the softness of your dress. You squirmed slightly, feeling exposed and vulnerable. He placed a firm hand on your back, holding you steady as he lifted the hem of your dress, exposing your lace-covered bottom completely. His hand rose, hovering over the curve of your behind for a moment before delivering the first sharp smack. It echoed through the room, a loud clap followed by the sound of flesh meeting flesh.
He continued each blow landing with precision, gradually increasing in intensity. He could feel the heat rising from your skin, his palm burning with the impact, but his expression remained stern and determined.
König's grip on your wrist tightened, his hold on you unyielding as you struggled against his firm grasp. You tried to squirm away, but his hand pressed harder into the small of your back, pinning you in place. He didn't relish in causing you pain, but he knew it was necessary—a lesson that would hopefully prevent such reckless behavior. He couldn't stand the thought of something happening to you because of your stubbornness.
Each strike was calculated and delivered with enough force to make an impression yet not leave permanent marks. The sound of his hand connecting with your bottom filled the room, punctuated by your sharp gasps and stifled whimpers.
The spanking continued, each swat echoing through the quiet space, until König felt satisfied that the message was well received. Finally, he paused, breathing heavily as he watched your squirming form, a hungry glint in his eyes.
“M’sorry…” you sniffled, pressing your cheek into the leather cushion beneath you as his heavy, warm hand caressed over your stinging skin with a newfound tenderness, a stark contrast to the hostility it was inflicting onto you mere seconds prior. You glanced behind you, shivering as your eyes met his. “I should've listened to you,” you finished as blood rushed to your cheeks, filling you with shame. Shame for crushing your ego and submitting to the man above you and shame for liking it. Tears continued slipping down your cheeks until they created a small puddle on the cushions below.
"I know you’re sorry," König muttered, his tone softer yet firm. His hand remained on your warm, stinging flesh, rubbing gentle circles to ease the pain—a strange mix of punishment and comfort that sent confusing signals throughout your body. His touch lingered for a moment longer than necessary, savoring the heat that radiated from you.
With a sigh, König lifted you into a sitting position, perched on his lap, effortlessly repositioning your legs around his waist. His hand cupped your cheek, lifting your face to meet his gaze, "You're mine. Mine to protect, mine to discipline, mine to fuck." His voice turned sharp as he leaned in, pressing a tender kiss against your forehead. His thumb swept across your cheekbone, catching a rogue tear. "You vill never do that again, understood?" The command was gentle, yet the underlying authority was impossible to miss.
You nodded begrudgingly, your eyebrows furrowing and your bottom lip jutting into a pout. You kept your eyes locked onto his clothed chest, too humiliated to meet his gaze.
"Look at me," he urged, his voice softening. König hated seeing you upset—it was almost like looking at a wounded animal. But he also knew that you needed this.
His fingers brushed gently across your cheek, urging your chin upward until your eyes met his again. He searched your gaze, looking for the slightest hint of defiance before nodding, satisfied that the lesson had sunk in. "Good girl," he breathed, pulling you closer into a tight embrace. The firmness of his chest pressed against you as he rested his chin on your head.
As you sniffled and wrapped your arms around his neck, clinging onto him like a lifeline, König felt a warmth spread through his chest, an odd sensation of belonging. He stroked your hair gently, murmuring words in German that you didn't understand but somehow knew were meant to soothe. "I vill take care of you," he whispered in English, his accent thickening slightly, "Alvays," he promised, whispering your name into your ear as his hips pressed into yours, his erection straining against his jeans as it sought out your warmth.
"Now," König said, his voice deep and husky, breaking the silence after a few moments, "are you ready to apologize properly?" He held your gaze, his hand slipping lower to cup your bottom firmly. His fingers traced over your stinging flesh, sending a shiver down your spine.
"Yes?" he prompted, lifting an eyebrow expectantly. He enjoyed this dance of power and submission between them—the way you trembled at his touch yet clung to him for support.
In response to your nod and your obedient “yes sir” that followed, König shifted his grip on your bottom, pulling you forward until your lips hovered inches from his. He pressed a hard kiss onto your mouth, his tongue demanding entrance. As you moaned and opened up to him, König deepened the kiss, claiming ownership of you once more.
One hand remained firmly planted on your backside while the other slid up your thigh, pushing your dress aside to reveal damp lace underwear. He groaned into your mouth, his fingers brushing against the fabric before hooking his thumbs into the waistband and yanking them down. You gasped against his lips as he exposed your sensitive skin to the cool air. His hand returned to cup your bare bottom, squeezing it firmly before giving it a sharp smack—a reminder of your place.
“Vell, then," he said, breaking away from the kiss, "Apologize, and maybe ve can move on from dis." His tone was gruff with lust, betraying his own need for resolution.
You immediately sank to your knees, whimpering when your knees thunked against the hardwood floor. You peered up at him, batting your lashes in faux innocence as you undid his belt, pooling it through his pant loops before unbuttoning the seam and pulling down his zipper.
As you freed him from his jeans, König's cock sprang forth, heavy and erect. He stared down at you, his breath hitching as you wrapped your small hands around his girth. When your tongue flicked out to taste him, König's hand found its way into your hair, gripping it firmly. "Vhat are you sorry for, mein Engel?" he asked, his voice strained. He knew it wasn't the time for words, but he needed to hear you admit your wrongdoing and see that you understood why you were here, on your knees before him.
“For going out when you told me no…” you murmured, nuzzling your cheek against his twitching cock, feeling his twitch tip leaking precum onto your skin.
“Zat’s right…” His hips bucked forward slightly as you began to suck him, his fingers tightening in your locks. He tried to keep his control, but the sight of your reddened cheeks and tear-stained face, coupled with the exquisite pleasure you were giving him, made it difficult.
König's eyes narrowed, and he reminded himself that this was about more than just release—it was about dominance and submission, about teaching you the consequences of disobeying him. But as your pace quickened and you took him deeper into your sinful mouth, he couldn't help but feel a primal satisfaction surge through him. He'd break you down and build you back up again—stronger, better, and utterly devoted to him.
"Mmm," he grunted approvingly, watching intently as your lips slid up and down his shaft. His eyes narrowed, savoring the moment when your gaze met his. He loved seeing you like this—submissive and eager to please him. As you continued to work his length, he reached out a hand, cupping your cheek and wiping away the remnants of tears.
"Ve all make mistakes," he said gruffly, "but ve learn from zem, ja?" His free hand drifted to your throat, applying light pressure before sliding down to cup your breast, thumbing the hardened nipple beneath your dress. "Show me how much you've learned," he growled, guiding your movements faster and harder. His release built within him, but König wouldn't let go until you'd fully atoned for your disobedience.
Watching you take him so willingly into your mouth, he couldn’t help the low rumble of appreciation that escaped his throat. His grip on your hair tightened, guiding your movements, forcing you to take him deeper than before. He savored the warmth and wetness of your mouth, the way your tongue swirled around the tip of his cock, and the gentle scrape of your teeth. He could feel his release building, but he held back—this wasn’t just about pleasure. This was a lesson, a reminder of who was in control.
"Vhat do you say?" he asked again, his voice strained with need. His fingers pinched your nipple, eliciting a sharp gasp from you. König smirked—he knew exactly how to get the reaction he wanted. "Say it," he urged, groaning your name as his hips started to buck rhythmically with your movements.
“Fank you,” you gurgled the words around his length, cringing at the sound of your voice muffled by his cock pistoning in and out of your mouth.
König's smirk deepened. "Very good." He leaned forward, his free hand resting on your shoulder as he thrust deeper into your mouth. "Ve're making progress," he said, his tone dripping with satisfaction.
He continued to fuck your face, relishing the feeling of power as you struggled to keep up with his pace. But you were strong, he could tell—stronger than most. And König loved nothing more than pushing those he cared for to their limits. When he finally released himself, it was with a moan that echoed through the room, painting your face and hair with his seed.
As you sat back, coughing and gasping for breath, König couldn't help but feel a sense of pride. He pulled you to your feet and wiped the remnants of black-stained tears away with his thumb.
"Clean yourself up," he ordered gruffly, releasing you and turning to fix himself. When he looked back, his eyes were serious. "And don't forget—next time you disobey me, ve'll be having a different conversation." He didn't want to frighten you, but you needed to know that there would always be consequences. That was just part of being his.
summary: you’ve been bratty and john know the best form of punishment
tags/trigger warnings: 18+, f!reader, p in v, thigh riding, cock warming, spanking, degradation, punishment, brattamer!john, bratty!reader, sub!reader, dom!john
wc: 1k
MASTERLIST
“Sit still.” John’s harsh voice silenced you into complacency before his hand swung through the air, smacking against your skin as your whimper rang out throughout the room.
“M’sorry!” You whined, gripping the fabric of his shirt in your hands as you gazed up at him, hoping to gain his attention. And yet his eyes remained focused in front of him, his fingers working against the keyboard, his arms bracketing you in his lap. Your hips shifted slightly, the head of his cock pressing up against your G-spot, causing you to let out another moan. You buried your nose in his chest, hoping to muffle your noises.
"Quiet down," John muttered, his stern expression belying the slight twitch of his lips as he tried to suppress a grin at your whimpering.
"Remember your place, pet." He said firmly, squeezing your thigh lightly with his free hand. The tone in his voice was a mix of discipline and playfulness, a reminder that you were here because of your earlier behavior. Despite the situation, you couldn't help but feel a thrill coursing through you at his words. He leaned forward, his warm breath tickling your ear as he continued typing away.
"And if you want to be of any use to me, you'll keep still and do exactly as I say." He added, his thumb tracing circles over your inner thigh. The sensation sent shivers down your spine, and you bit your lip to hold back another moan.
You looked up at him through your lashes, noticing the subtle tension in his jaw. His brow furrowed as he concentrated on the computer screen.
It was clear that even though he was punishing you, he was fully committed to his work. That dedication only made you want to serve him better, to be the good girl he needed. You nodded obediently and held your breath, doing your best to remain still. But it was difficult, with every keystroke causing his cock to brush against your sensitive walls. John didn't miss your reaction, a small smile playing on his lips as he glanced down at you.
"That's better," he murmured approvingly before returning his attention to the screen. "Good girl." He rumbled, feeling your warmth envelop him fully now. He continued typing away at the computer, the screen casting an eerie blue glow upon his face. Inwardly, he was fighting off the urge to thrust into you, to claim you right there and then. The way you squirmed under his gaze only made resisting harder, but he knew this was a lesson you needed to learn.
"Feels good? Hm?" He asked, his tone even but the edge of desire evident. He knew how sensitive you were, how quickly you could come undone if he pushed harder. He wanted to hear your sweet moans of pleasure, to see you lose control in his arms. But more importantly, he wanted you to understand that your actions had consequences. That even in moments of play, there was always an underlying layer of discipline. His thumb continued its teasing circles, moving higher up your thigh until it grazed your clit, causing you to jump slightly. He smirked at your reaction, enjoying the power he held over you. "Focus, pet." He ordered, his fingers tightening around the mouse.
"Just a little longer." He reassured you, his voice low and steady, as he felt you tremble in his lap. It took every ounce of self-control he had not to give in to his desires and thrust deeper into your warmth. He could sense your frustration building, the way you bit your lip and squeezed your thighs around him, trying to hold back the impending orgasm. He knew that part of this punishment was the denial, the anticipation that came with it. But another part of him wanted to reward your obedience and stay still as he told you.
As his fingers continued working on the keyboard, he couldn't help but steal glances at your flushed face, your eyes squeezed shut, and the way your breasts rose and fell with each ragged breath you took. His resolve weakened, and his need to claim you grew stronger with every passing second.
After some time, he let out a long breath, sitting back in his seat before turning his full attention to you. He lifted your chin gently, forcing you to look at him. "You've been very patient, haven't you?" he asked, his thumb now rubbing small circles on your clit, teasing you mercilessly. Your eyes fluttered open, meeting his, and he saw the raw need reflected in their depths. "Answer me," I demanded, increasing the pressure slightly.
"Yes, sir." You breathed out, your voice barely audible.
"Good girl." He praised, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to your lips. He knew you needed release and was happy to give it to you. But first, he wanted to hear you beg for it. He pulled back and met your gaze again.
"Ask me nicely, pet. Beg me to make you cum.” He raised an eyebrow at you, a smirk playing on his lips as he waited for your plea. His fingers continued their gentle assault on your clit, the pace unchanged, drawing out your anticipation.
His cock throbbed with each passing second, eager to buck into your tight warmth. But this was about teaching you a lesson and reinforcing your dynamic.
Your cheeks flushed even deeper, and your eyes widened as you realized what he wanted. You hesitated momentarily, then finally whispered, "Please, sir. Make me cum." Your voice was so soft that he almost didn't hear it, but the desperation was evident. That was all he needed. With a satisfied grunt, he shifted his hips, burying himself fully inside you. He started moving slowly, savoring the feeling of you wrapped around him.
Your moans grew louder as he picked up speed, each thrust more brutal than the last. "That's it. You Take it." he growled, his grip tightening on your hips. His release was building, fueled by your desperate pleas and the tightening of your muscles around him.
"You're mine." he reminded you, thrusting deeper. He felt you shudder in his arms as you reached your climax, your body tensing and then releasing in waves of pleasure. As your orgasm subsided, he allowed himself to let go, filling you up with his seed. You both sat there momentarily, catching your breaths before he gently pulled out of you and tucking himself away. "Remember this next time you decide to be bratty, pet."
summary: it’s your baby’s birthday, why not get surprise him with something special?
tags/trigger warnings: 18+, f!reader, oral sex (f!receiving), praise, p in v, fluff, fingering, cunnilingus
wc: 2k
a/n: i need to post more keegan content
MASTERLIST
Your eyes traveled down the expanse of your body, slow hands working their way down your chest, skimming over your waist before resting on your hips. You stared at yourself in the mirror before turning the opposite way, your head turning to the side, your hand planted in your ass as you looked yourself up and down.
The fabric was incredibly soft, almost like a gentle caress against your skin. The delicate lace adorned your body with a graceful elegance without causing any discomfort or itching. The fabric was a pretty shade of blue, Keegan’s favorite color. It beautifully complemented the natural tones of your hair and skin.
Right on time, just as you were lost in your thoughts, your phone began to ring. Glancing at the screen, you saw Keegan's name and picture flashing, filling you with excitement. With a wide grin, you eagerly brought the phone to your ear, savoring the anticipation as you answered, "Hello?”
“Hey, babe,” he answered. The distinctive rumble of the car engine in the background of the phone call made it clear that he was behind the wheel, driving while he spoke.
“Just wanted to let you know I was on my way home,” he said, his voice low and warm with a distinct sharp edge.
A smile spread across your face, your heart rate spiking at the sound of Keegan's voice. Your pulse raced, but your mind remained clear. This was your chance to put your plan into action.
"Hey, handsome," you replied, infusing your voice with a playful yet seductive undertone. "Just finished wrapping your present... it's a surprise, though." You could already imagine his curious expression, eyes narrowing slightly as his interest was piqued.
Your fingers traced the lacy pattern along the waistband of your lingerie, savoring the moment. "Can't wait for you to unwrap it tonight." You heard his sharp intake of breath followed by a pause.
"Sounds promising," Keegan chuckled. You could hear the smile in his voice. The engine's rumble grew quieter as he seemed to shift gears, possibly accelerating a little faster than usual now. His curiosity had been stoked, and you knew it wouldn't be long before you saw that familiar gleam in his pale blue eyes.
"Well, I better hurry up then. Don't want to keep my beautiful woman waiting," he added, a hint of eagerness in his voice.
After saying your goodbyes, you clicked the red ‘end call’ button before tossing your phone on your bed.
You nibbled on your lower lip, feeling a wave of shyness wash over you. You had never done this sort of display before. You were worried you might come off as awkward and unconfident. It doesn’t matter now, you thought as the distinctive sound of the car door thudding shut, resonating with a satisfying finality, followed by the sharp click of the locks engaging.
The front door swung open with a soft creak, the sound echoing faintly in the quiet hallway. You leaned against the cool wall, your heart racing in anticipation as you saw Keegan stepping inside. He kicked off his shoes with a casual flick, the thud hitting the floor breaking the stillness.
As he straightened up, his expression transformed. A radiant smile spread across his face, his eyes sparkling with delight as he spotted you. A warmth in his gaze made you feel like you were the only person in the world. The dim light cast gentle shadows around him, enhancing the moment as he stepped closer. The light exuded a sense of comfort and familiarity that enveloped you both.
“Hey there,” he greeted tentatively, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Are you hiding from me?” he chuckled, making his way over to you.
“No, I just…” you trailed off, your eyes downcasted, unable to meet his gaze. Keegan opened his mouth to speak before his words died on his tongue as he rounded the corner. He let out a low whistle, the sound causing heat to rise to your cheeks.
His eyes followed the delicate patterns, tracing over your skin as a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.
"Well, I wasn't expecting this," He said, his voice a mix of surprise and admiration. He took a step closer, reaching out to gently tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear, his fingers brushing softly against your skin.
"You look stunning," he murmured, his voice low and sincere. He tilted his head slightly, studying your face.
Leaning in, he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering for a moment before he pulled back, meeting your gaze with a steady, reassuring look. "You don't need to be nervous," he said, his tone gentle but firm. "This is perfect. You are perfect."
You smiled wide, wrapping your hands around his shoulders, pulling him towards you as his hands wandered down your body, cupping the plush skin of your ass as your lips pressed together, his tongue seeking yours as his large hands squeezed.
You let out a gasp before it morphed into a moan as he kissed you with a newfound hunger, thrusting his erection against your stomach before he broke away from the kiss to catch his breath, a spark of playful mischief lighting up his eyes. With a firm yet tender grasp, Keegan lifted you off your feet, eliciting another gasp from your lips. He carried you into the bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him.
As he laid you on the bed, Keegan carefully removed his jacket and shirt, tossing them aside and onto the floor, his eyes never leaving your form. He let his hands glide over the silken fabric of your lingerie, admiring the way it contrasted with your soft skin. He leaned forward, pressing feather-light kisses along your collarbone as he undid the front clasp.
His breath hitched slightly as he took in the sight of your breasts, his hands cupping them gently. He loved how you looked underneath him—vulnerable yet confident.
He moved his lips lower, capturing a nipple in his mouth, eliciting another moan from you. He sucked gently, feeling your body arch beneath him, before releasing it to lavish attention on the other side. His fingers trailed down your abdomen, teasing the edge of your lacy panties, and he could feel the heat radiating from between your legs.
He looked up at you, meeting your gaze, seeking permission to continue exploring. His thumbs hooked onto the fabric, pulling it to the side, revealing your pussy to his hungry eyes. Keegan took a moment to appreciate your beauty, his heart swelling with love and desire, before kissing your inner thigh.
Keegan's breathing grew heavier as he reveled in your reactions. He loved how you melted under his touch, surrendering to the moment. His thumbs brushed against your sensitive skin, eliciting another shiver from you. He leaned in closer, his lips hovering above your core, before he pressed a soft kiss to your center, his tongue following the path his fingers had traced earlier.
He took his time, savoring each gasp and moan, letting your reactions guide his movements. His hands slid under your thighs, lifting them slightly to give himself better access. He could feel your muscles tensing, your body readying itself for release. Pausing briefly, he looked up at you, studying your flushed features, the way your chest rose and fell rapidly with each shallow breath.
Keegan watched your reactions intensely, his eyes never leaving yours. He loved how you writhed under his touch, your body's unspoken language telling him precisely what you needed. He could feel the tension building within you, and it only served to heighten his arousal. As his tongue swirled and dipped with increased pressure, your moans grew louder, your hands gripping the sheets tightly.
He loved the taste of you, the sound of your pleasure—it all fed into his desire. Keegan's mind was wholly absorbed in the moment, his mind silencing as he gave in to pure instinct. His hands roamed your body, exploring every curve and valley as he continued his ministrations. He felt your thighs tighten around his head, your back arching off the bed—you were close. With one final flick of his tongue, you cried out, holding Keegan still by his hair as you ground into his mouth.
Keegan stayed where he was, savoring the moment as your body trembled and spasmed. Once your breathing had calmed, he crawled up your body, kissing every inch until he reached your lips. He smiled against your mouth, his heart swelling with affection.
Keegan hovered over you, his breath warm against your lips as he watched the pleasure recede from your eyes. As you smiled back at him, your eyes heavy with satisfaction, he couldn't help but lean in for another kiss.
His hands roamed your body tenderly, enjoying the feel of her soft skin against his roughened palms. His fingers trailed down your body before tapping against your mound, tracing lazy circles around your still-sensitive clit, eliciting another moan from your lips.
Keegan took a moment to enjoy the sight of you spread out before him—flushed and panting—before lowering his head again. He continued his attentions, teasing and tormenting you until you were writhing underneath him again. He loved how you reacted to him; your body was expressive and honest. Everything was clear—your needs, desires, and love for him.
Once you came again, he finally allowed himself to indulge in his needs. He quickly shed his clothes before settling between your legs, aligning himself with your entrance.
With a wolfish smile, Keegan watched as your eyes widened in anticipation. The scent of your arousal filled the air, further fueling his desire. He gripped the base of his hard length, guiding himself towards your entrance as his gaze never left yours.
Your eyes locked, and he slowly pushed inside you, savoring the tight heat that enveloped him. Keegan groaned low in his throat, the sensation sending ripples of pleasure through his body. Once fully seated, he paused momentarily, allowing you to adjust before moving with deliberate strokes. His thrusts were deep and measured, each one eliciting a moan from you that reverberated through his chest.
As he set a steady rhythm, Keegan's mind began to analyze your responses, instinctively adjusting his movements to maximize your pleasure. He noticed how you gripped the bedsheets when he hit just the right spot, the flush that spread across your cheeks when he picked up the pace, and the soft whimpers that escaped your lips when he changed angles.
Your bodies moved together in perfect sync, each thrust driving away the lingering stress of the day. Keegan let go of all his inhibitions, allowing himself to be consumed by the sensations coursing through him. He held onto your hips, driving into you with ferocity.
Keegan couldn't contain his admiration as he looked at you, your beauty illuminating the room in a way that brought a warm smile to his face. He gently traced a finger along your jawline, appreciating the softness of your skin. He leaned in for another kiss, savoring the taste of your lips and the feel of your body pressed against his.
"Beautiful," he murmured before lowering his head to capture your nipple between his lips. Keegan reveled in your sharp intake of breath and the way your body arched toward him, your hands tangling in his short, dark hair. He moved his mouth to your other breast, lavishing attention on it while his hand continued to tease your sensitive clit.
His hands roamed over your curves, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. When your breath hitched and your body began to tremble beneath him, Keegan knew you were close. He reached down to rub your clit in firm circles, his touch sending you over the edge. Your orgasm triggered his release, his hips jerking as he came hard inside you.
He collapsed onto you, his weight supported by his elbows, as you both struggled to catch your breath. Your bodies remained entwined as you rode out the aftershocks of your shared climax, Keegan's heart pounding against your chest. He softly kissed your forehead, murmuring, "Happy birthday to me."
summary: hubby works too long and too hard he deserves some lovin’ for taking such good care of you
tags/trigger warnings: 18+, f!reader, oral sex (m!receiving), praise, fluff, dom!john, sub!reader
wc: 1k
MASTERLIST
“That’s it, sweet girl…nice and easy,” John purred from above you, one hand pressing behind your head as he eased his cock further down your throat. His blue eyes squinted in pleasure, his lips pressing together as he groaned, tilting his head to the side as he watched you struggle to swallow him.
Your fingers sunk into the clothed skin of his thighs, your mouth stretching wide to accommodate his thick length until your jaw began to ache and tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to slip down your cheeks as you fought to keep them open.
He let out a low, satisfied grunt at your efforts, the sound vibrating through his body and making his muscles tense under your fingers.
Appreciating your dedication despite the apparent discomfort with a slight twinge of concern for your well-being, John tightened his grip on your head, guiding your movements with a gentle but firm rhythm.
"Good job," he praised huskily, moaning your name as he watched your tears fall silently onto his thighs. "Just take your time; I'm not going anywhere." His other hand gently brushed away a stray strand of hair that clung to the side of your face, his thumb lingering to trace the line of your jaw before he returned it to his side, allowing you to focus on pleasuring him without distraction.
"Mmm," he approvingly hummed as you followed his lead, his hips rolling slightly in sync with your bobbing head. The salty taste of him filled your mouth, and the intimate sight of you serving him served to heighten his arousal.
Despite the urgency building in his core, John forced himself to remain patient and controlled, taking shallow breaths to maintain composure. His heart rate sped up, each pulse echoing in his ears as he watched your lips slide up and down his length, reddened by your efforts. He tightened his abs, fighting the instinctual need to thrust deeper and take control, reminding himself to let you set the pace.
"Just like that," he encouraged, his voice strained yet steady. His hand continued its gentle massage of your scalp, his fingers tangling in your hair as you worked diligently on his cock. His breathing grew heavier, matching the tempo of your movements. He leaned back against the wall, allowing himself to fully enjoy the sensation of your warm, wet mouth wrapped around him.
His eyes never left your face, watching your expression morph from determination to pleasure and back again. The sounds of your muffled moans filled the room, causing his arousal to spike further.
"You like that, don't you?" he asked gruffly, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. His grip on your head tightened ever so slightly, urging you to take him deeper. The muscles in his thighs twitched as he fought the urge to buck his hips forward, wanting to savor the sensation of you pleasuring him without overwhelming you. He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing with the effort of maintaining control.
"You're doing so well," he praised, his voice laced with raw emotion. "Fuck," John muttered, his eyes momentarily closing as he fought against the pleasure building inside him. The wet, warm sensation of your mouth was almost too much to handle, but he couldn't deny how incredible it felt to have you willingly submit to him in this way.
His breath hitched as you took him deeper than before, his cock hitting the back of your throat with each determined stroke. The combination of your saliva and his precum made for an erotic slickness that only heightened the experience. He opened his eyes, meeting your watery gaze, and gave a curt nod of approval.
"That's right," he growled softly, "take it all." He could feel the pressure building at the base of his spine, a familiar warmth spreading throughout his body as he neared climax. His grip on your head became firmer, his fingers massaging your scalp more urgently.
Price's hips started to move in shallow thrusts, guiding your head as you continued to suck him off. He couldn't remember the last time someone had taken such good care of him, which made him feel humbled and empowered. With each stroke, his movements grew more insistent, his breathing becoming ragged.
He called your name, his voice straining with restraint, "I'm getting close." He wanted you to be prepared for his release, to know that you had brought him to the edge and pushed him over.
His entire body tensed, muscles coiled like a spring about to snap, as he tried to hold off just a little longer to draw out the exquisite sensations. But it was no use; the dam broke, and with a final, guttural groan, he came hard in your mouth, filling it with hot, thick ropes of semen. John watched your reaction closely, seeing the slight surprise in your eyes before they fluttered closed, and you swallowed every drop, milking him for all he was worth.
As his orgasm subsided, he released his grip on your head, allowing you to pull back slowly, gasping for air as you did so. He smiled. Once you finished, John Price's chest rapidly rose and fell as he regained his breath, his eyes still locked onto yours. He cupped your cheek, wiping away a stray tear with his thumb before pulling you up to stand before him.
He took a deep breath, savoring the aftermath of pleasure that still coursed through his veins. His gaze softened as he looked at you, thumb lingering on your cheek before he leaned in and pressed a tender kiss to your lips. "Thank you," he murmured with genuine gratitude in his voice.
The moment's intensity lingered in the air, and he could see the lingering mix of emotions on your face. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close to his chest as he held you in a protective embrace.
“Pretty girl,” he cooed, kissing the corner of your mouth, his lips stretching into a grin as you turned your head to capture them in yours. “Should I return the favor?”
