#overload denial

[mychlapci]

Valve dom tfa Prowl letting Lockdown fuck him for the first time. His waist is so skinny that it almost hurts to squeeze the tip of his spike into that valve, but he *begged* to be allowed to fuck Prowl and he isn’t going to give the chance up even if it’s uncomfortable— only to hear the tell-tale sound of a t-cog initializing. Lockdown gets to watch as Prowl’s hips widen just for him, spike sliding in with much greater ease until their panels are pressed together, the tip of his spike finally just shy of Prowl’s ceiling node.

He’d go absolutely feral, I think, hands filling out with Prowl’s widening hips as Lockdown’s spike slowly slid itself into that welcoming valve. A smirk on Prowl’s lips as they both moan. He tells Lockdown that it’s a reward for his favorite toy mech, but in truth he’s just made the sex even better for himself. Now their nodes align for maximum charge, and there’s just enough room in Prowl’s valve to be comfortably full. A perfect fit. As a bonus, the new look absolutely melts Lockdown’s processor into a puddle of goo. The first time he sees that sultry little sashay his spike is going to pop behind his panel.

The sex is so good Prowl would never be willing to give it up, but he’s also never going to tell Lockdown that. He’ll have him begging to worship his valve on the regular, getting the bounty hunter to do things like wear a collar all the time so that everyone knows he’s owned by a little autobot with a juicy pussy. I bet he even gets Lockdown to beg to be locked *up*, spike panel only accessible to Prowl to keep him stewing in his charge while they’re apart. Maybe even teases that locked spike housing with his wet valve, grinding against it and leaving pink smears of lubricant before ‘allowing’ Lockdown the privilege of eating him out while Prowl teases him to a weak overload with a vibrator. Chanting thank yous all the while.

And they both love it.

hgrhh god i love valvedom Prowl so much... making Lockdown crawl on his hands and knees and lick at his covered panel just at the promise of getting to taste his valve... When he’s finally allowed to spike him, he’s all flushed and downright crazed, he’s rutting his spike against Prowl’s tiny little port and trying so hard to fit in.

Prowl enjoys watching him squirm, he really does, but he knew Lockdown would tear him apart if he didn’t get his spike in there this instant, besides, seeing the shock on Lockdown’s face whenhe re-set his valve... it was priceless.

He has that big, scary bounty hunter on a leash. Sometimes literally. Lockdown will grind his spike against the ground just eating him out... he could take the lock off of his panels anytime, but he won’t, because Prowl didn’t give him permission to. He’ll spend weeks away on a hunt, unable to relieve himself, and then come back to Earth, where Prowl gets to do whatever he wants to him. And if he doesn’t make him cum, then Lockdown Does. Not. Cum. period.

#valveplug #hgrhhhhhhhhhh #texty #size kink #overload denial

[valve3nthusiast]

Driftrod with pierced nodes... driftrod wearing vibrating rings in their nodes and swapping the control codes...

The codes wont time out for a few weeks, and neither of them are nice to eachother >:3c

Rodimus immediately has the ring on a middle setting to watch Drift's thighs tremble from the vibration. Playing with the settings and modes almost becomes an idle thing to him, up, down, up, down. Leaving it in slow pulse mode for a few hours, so he can watch Drift nearly fall over when he turns it up. It's a good thing Drift can hold a poker face even when he's overloading

Drift likes to watch someone ask Roddy to do something, meet his eyes, and turn the vibrator on. Drift is more conservative with the controller... He only turns it on when it's inconvenient. He'll make Rodimus sit through hours long command meetings with the ring in his node buzzing furiously, and turn it off the minute he steps out of the meeting room

Maybe part of the challenge is that they locked their panels, so they can't remove the ring... a constant loop of Roddy making Drift overload and Drift edging him back...

The only time they're nice to each other is for recharge... Rodimus finally turns off the vibrator and gives Drift's sore and aching node a break, Drift cranks the setting to max so Rodimus can knock himself into recharge with multiple overloads :)

#valveplug #mine #driftrod #drift #rodimus #toys under panels #overstim #overload denial

[ivycorp]

Megatron and his servo

The door slid shut behind Megatron, his quarters quiet and empty as always (but they weren't like that not long ago, he remembered with a twist of the mouth); his frame was hot and charged up despite the time it took to:

Return to Nemesis,

Get told off by Soundwave (it was an interesting thing, to be told of with no words),

Subsequently to be told off by Knock Out that he needed to leave the injured hand to heal or it would require an entire replacement next time.

He was so dazed by the fight earlier, he just nodded and went out into the corridor from the medbay, on automatic letting his legs carry him back to berth. The vehicons he passed in the way scrambled to not cross paths with him, but the warlord didn't really care about them.

No, he had more pressing matters on his mind. 

Taking a look at his freshly repaired arm, he noted with humor that at least it was not the servo he needed tonight anyways. 

With a practiced ease that spoke of the pathetic disposition he was finding himself way too often these days, the silver mech locked the door, put the music on loud and shut off his own audio input. In case of emergency, Soundwave would shoot him a direct comm anyways.

The music was not for his benefit, after all.

As the silence filled his mind, Megatron allowed himself a shudder as his extensive (not extensive enough, whispered his greedy spark) collection of material on Orion-Optimus started taking its place, feeding his newly rediscovered needs like a mech starved.

'My, pet, you are positively begging to be touched, aren't you?' Optimus's voice seemed to drown him, as the silver frame settled itself down on the floor, knees spread, servos held behind his back in a looser grip than he usually preferred, but the medic's warning was enough to keep him from pushing it.

He sighed softly, chasing the memories of the way Orion would look at him, teasing him with the softest strokes, as the latest battle took hold and reminded just how much he enjoyed the digits on his throat.

It was enough to cause his charge to grow at once, as he desperately held the self-imposed position; he was even facing the chair the blue and red mech took as his during the stay at Nemesis, from the first time they fell into the familiar dynamic.

Megatron both rejoiced and cursed that moment, as it had changed something between them irrevocably- he had no clue precisely why, but the recent losses they were suffering were telling enough.

They have gotten under each other's plating and Megatron was obviously losing control. He expected Soundwave to lose patience with his behavior any day now.

He grimaced, as he felt his frame shiver at the notion of losing control, of letting Orion take care of him, to make him break apart and be rebuilt over and over again in the most agonizingly pleasurable way there could be.

He could feel his valve clench as lubricant started falling on the floor through the seams, but he kept the cover in place.

There were rules to be followed, even when he was alone.

'Beautiful, my sweet, so obedient for me, thank you for waiting for the commands,' cooed the imaginary Prime, as Megatron could feel himself tremble at the praise; discovering that he liked it made Orion smile so nicely, as he explained one day that it also was something he loved to indulge in.

"What a complementary pair we make, Megatron," the mech said once over Energon, and the silver tyrant couldn't help but agree.

Yet now, ex-vents coming out loud, Megatron could only think about the voice in his helm, which chuckled and finally prompted him to move, but still kept the panels closed.

'I want you to take your time and show me where you would like to be touched,' caused the silver servos to move from behind to the front, as Megatron started to stroke his frame, before he arrived at the throat, neck cables just inches away from his wandering digits.

It was the spot Optimus bit him earlier that day.

Touching on the tingling part of his throat, he suddenly wanted to know if the bite was still visible - Knock Out took a look but did not repair it, so most likely it was not threatening and would be taken care of by his own self repair.

He pressed, hissing, as the motion flared with numb pain, which made his spark throb.

He needed to see it badly.

His imagination fed him another memory, the impression of Orion smiling, walking over to the berth and motioning for Megatron to join him, as it offered an undisturbed view of the mirror in the private washracks.

The silver mech knew better than to rise up, instead crawling hastily and setting himself down, pedes spread so his reflection would show the entirety of the heaving frame between them, servos flat on the floor.

'I can see just how desperate you are - if you keep it up I might even let you overload today, despite your prior behavior,' teased the Prime’s voice, as he fought hard to keep his panels closed and optics down; he did not miss the echo of shame that ran through him on the battlefield about not yielding when Optimus threatened to feel disappointed by him.

He did not want to disappoint Orion. He was good and will keep on being good if it meant he could stay in this dazed state longer.

'Now, pet, I want you to open your panels,' instructed him the warm voice he could listen to forever, as his panels slid open and lubricant gushed out of his needy valve, spike pressurized and aching to be touched.

'Look at yourself as you get your valve prepared for me - tell me when you get close to overloading,' ordered the specter of his memories, as Megatron turned his gaze and locked sights with the reflection and allowed his optics to take in the mark on his neck cables as one of his servos went up and wrapped itself right below it.

His other servo was already in motion, working the sensitive mesh open, rocking onto the digits; he did not think it would take long for him to reach the edge, but when he tightened the hold on his neck and brushed his digit against the anterior node, he was hit with a jolt of pleasure that got him immediately there, and he gasped out:

"I am close, so close, please," came the begging, so much faster than expected. He faintly blamed the forward actions of the Prime for driving him insane with the damned bite, but that thought left quickly as he continued the ministrations on his leaking valve. 

He knew at this point he could probably take some of the largest toys hiding in the closet, but it was too far from him now - and, more importantly, there was no command that specified that anything but his digits were allowed this time.

'That was quick, even for you - but then, I knew the bite would do the trick… or was it the talk about a collar, perhaps?' came the question, as Megatron's servo stuttered in its rhythm, nearly bringing him over the edge.

He wished to reply, but all that left his mouth was just a low keen, words escaping his frayed focus and leaving him bare to the wants of his greedy frame. At this point he would agree to whatever the other would demand, if only he would be granted release.

Yet, as Megatron looked towards the mirror, he could not stop feeling a rush of humiliation at the sight; spike neglected, valve leaking so much lubricant it made a considerable pool on the floor, neck cables held tightly and squeezed to the point of pain whenever he would feel himself get dangerously close, until the charge would die down again just enough to escape the temptation.

And he would start again, because he was not told to stop.

The digits were avoiding his node now, as he knew just a brush would make him overload hard. 

He would not do this without permission. 

There were rules to be followed.

The rules were important. 

He could hold it off for longer.

A hum sounded in his audials, as a curt 'optics up front' made him realize he was looking anywhere but the reflection as he was wrestling with the need to obey and the whispers of his frame.

He burned, and the assault on his valve did not stop as he turned to pleading for permission to overload; seeing the desperation in the mirror only made him glitch up.

Such a wanton display…

'Now, pet, we both know who you need to ask if you want to overload,' reminded him the voice, as he briefly wondered if maybe he could break the invisible hold Orion had on him; it's not like he would know what Megatron was doing right now, and what he wouldn't know wouldn't hurt him.

The warlord shook his helm, disappointed at even entertaining this idea.

He would not fail.

As he opened his comm list, he made sure to pick the adequate encrypted frequency - Optimus told him he would not revoke the access again unless he abused his openness, with a threat of terminating their games once and for all.

He could feel the heady state overtake him, as he dialed for Prime to pick up - the Autobot leader usually did not leave him hanging, and more often than not, his release would come very soon after they connected on the line.

The call dropped. 

He sobbed, as he tried again and again, to no avail. With the last dregs of thought, he realized the Nemesis was jamming communications both ways.

Soundwave. 

It must be his way of punishing him for today's loss. Apparently, the TIC's patience has finally ran out.

The elation he felt at the idea of finally being allowed to overload got replaced by the icy chill of shame that made him feel like he was torn apart at the seams; the wetness of his valve felt wrong, but he still could not stop moving his digits.

He wondered briefly if he was too far gone to ever come back to his life before the Optimus-As-Orion incident.

A sympathetic whisper of 'poor thing, you know what is left to do, come on, maybe next time you will get to overload,' made him openly weep, as he withdrew his digits and pushed himself up, shakily going under the solvent in the washracks, set to the coldest setting. 

As the steam lifted from his burning frame, he rested his helm against the wall, charge gradually dropping to the buzz he started associating with just being awake.

Megatron nearly stepped back into the lubricant on the floor, as he felt at once nauseous at the sight and the throb his tired valve gave at the reminder of what he just did. Grabbing a rag, he began to clear it away, noticing to his dismay that the charge was building up again, fuelled by his own sense of humiliation.

It would seem he will need to stay under the cold solvent for a much longer time than expected…

*****

Fowler frowned at his phone, as he fiddled a bit and checked if maybe his WiFi had disconnected.

No, full bars.

Frustrated, he turned to address Ratchet working on the side, grumbling to himself.

"Are we being jammed? Or jamming the Nemesis?" Fowler asked, trying to discern the possible reason why the vehicon group chat stopped updating mid-rant. 

The medic looked at him puzzled.

"No, I don't think so," he replied, going back to doing the inventory, while in the background Optimus stilled his console repair. He looked pensive, but something must have clicked as he relaxed and chuckled to himself, getting back to work.

The Prime even began humming a soft melody as he was mending the pieces he tore off himself because of…

The agent's eyes opened wide when the dots connected:

The group chat has just remarked on loud music picking up.

The incident earlier that day on the battlefield.

Optimus's air of satisfaction as he mended the mangled parts of the console.

Fowler rolled his eyes hard, and asked himself for the fifteenth time that week as to why he even felt surprised anymore.

*********************

Another one prompted by this post of @paraxodicalundressing as a direct follow up to this (mentioning here the time on Nemesis)

#megatron #megop #valveplug #transformers #maccadam #tfp au #i ran out of guilt and shame that prevented me from writing this insanity #i wanted megs to suffer from overload denial #and i wanted soundwave to get some revenge because a mech can only have so much patience #what a beautiful combination to find a solution that gets me both #and i think megs would respond beautifully to both praise and humiliation so yeah #this is a self-indulgence #which is kind of why i put the read-more this time around #tfp_au_writing_valveplug

[soupforstars]

I find it genuinely hilarious how many signs there were pointing to us being a system from ages ago... As the host whos been here the longest I'm surprised I didn't look into it sooner, like I SERIOUSLY wondered on MORE THAN TWO SEPERATE OCCASIONS as a teen whether I had DID, but brushed it off both times because I thought "oh I'm not traumatised enough" and "you have to experience blackouts and time jumps and I haven't so I can't" (spoiler alert, I definitely was incredibly traumatised and I definitley have had blackouts before but even then I didn't know that those weren't fully necessary for a diagnosis).

And this is without getting into "my" love of any media that involved characters with alter egos, "multiple personalities", etc. Like I LOVED the Jekyll and Hyde musical when I found it, my favourite Total Drama character was Mike (the one with DID but like. when people still knew it as MPD. also he wasnt the best rep lol), I loved the Markiplier and Jacksepticeye egos, for a short time I was into Sander Sides, I had full on "characters" that were "aspects of my personality" but also next to them was just. My actual sona? Completely seperate from them, which actually represented me?

I just really thought I liked media with alternate egos/personalities but methinks the call was coming from inside the house sdjshsnsjsbdjdb

#talking tag #🌒 tag #any other systems have that kind of experience?? #mostly adressing traumagenic systems soz endos i just have no idea how you all work /lh #i only realised it this year thanks to anti's help and even then we were bamboozled lmfao #uhhh idk how to tag this and im scared to tag too much svdbsbsb #did system #osdd system #dissociative identity disorder #otherwise specified dissociative disorder #i hesitate to use the tags 'actually did' cus even tho we're medically reconised we're still technically not diagnosed and- #-i really do feel that sweet sweet (/s) imposter syndrome + host denial kicking in #brain is silly ;w; #wishing i could be like anti and just not have anxiety #its crazy. i can feel how much less anxious he is when hes fronting and how easy it is for him to brush off anxious thoughts like #if he wasnt constantly in a state of mild sensory overload all the time i think he'd be too powerful /hj #i feel bad for him tho :c he loves fronting but its sensory hell for him #not to mention he has really bad heat tolerance which is ok for now while its winter in aus but we dont have an aircon so- #-when it becomes summer hes praying we get out of emergency housing by then so he doesnt have to suffer all day in the heat #sjdbsjbdbd adhd train of thought go off i guess

[caffeinatedopossum]

About your last post, being persistently exposed to trauma, residually as a child, is absolutely a fucked up thing whether or not anything directly happened to you. Whether or not others take it seriously that is absolutely valid trauma and I'm sorry and hope you feel better soon.

Thank you :(( I'm glad I'm not the only one who thinks it was damaging

#tw csa mention in these tags #i think i didnt realize it was traumatic because when stuff started to come out #it was allegations about my dad from one of my sisters #saying that he sa'd our sister and my dad immediately went to jail #but my mom was devastated and couldnt function. idk exactly what happened because its blurry (i was only 7 so yeah) #idk somehow our mom got him out of jail tho and i was told (VERY emphatically) that he wasnt actually guilty #my sisters were forced to testify #saying that they had lied essentially and it wasnt true #and thats what i was told too. i was told that it was a lie and it hadnt happened and i believed that #because i was 7. most children my age didnt even know what sex WAS let alone abuse #i also didnt really care because i didnt understand. i was just scared and i missed how my family used to be #but obviously it never went back to the way it was #my parents moved us really far away. out of state. and after that i was never allowed to stay home alone with my dad again #which was upsetting for me because i hated going most places (i would get sensory overload and i had bad anxiety already) #and i also didnt understand why my mom was so convinced someone would spread allegations again if they had no reason to #basically it was years and years of me slowly realizing what really happened #and it never fully sunk in... i think in a way im still that terrified 7 year old deep down. in denial because acceptance isnt acceptable #skfkgj sorry for the trauma dump it just helps to talk about specifics sometimes

[wandasaura]

LINGER LIKE A TATTOO KISS

summary — as the summer approaches, so does a shift in your relationship with wanda

warning(s) — established relationship, married wandanat, sensory overload, anxiety, mentions of child abuse (very brief and nondescript), dom/sub dynamics, patience testing, bratty!reader, punishment, teasing, mild humiliation, orgasm denial, spanking, praise, aftercare, entrance of the mommy kink, men/minors dni

authors note — the moment we’ve all been waiting for… or at least one of them ;), we finally got some wanda action, and a couple little domestic scenes because they’re the cutest wives

you are in love universe

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

The supermarket was beyond crowded for it being a Wednesday afternoon in early May. You supposed the air conditioned aisles were being used as an escape from the scalding temperatures of approaching summer that threatened to melt the inventory of every ice cream truck in the neighborhood, but to say you were overstimulated was putting it lightly. 

You trailed after Wanda and Natasha with a frown on your face, making your disinterest known to both of the lawyers who were in desperate need of more produce and salad kits. You’d never understand why Natasha favored the plastic bags of lettuce over the perfectly green heads that Wanda grew in the back garden, but she’d thrown at least six prepackaged variations into the cart when you stopped at the stand. You were trailing down the cereal aisle now, and your attitude was getting on both of their nerves.

Wanda had been flat out ignoring your temper tantrum since the moment it started, but Natasha was not as keen to be dismissive as her wife. She’d been throwing out warnings since you’d first come through the automatic doors, but they had all fallen on deaf ears as you stayed persistent in your pout. Your arms were folded over your chest, your eyes slitted into daggers if anyone even attempted to look in your direction. You’d been near perfectly behaved for weeks, spare a few harsh comments thrown in Wanda’s direction, but they’d both been willing to overlook your harshness because aside from those, you’d been an angel. Whatever streak of good behavior you’d been running off of however, had seen its end, and both lawyers in front of you were shocked by the attitude you simmered in. 

“If I have to ask you again to pick up your feet, I’m going to make you sit in the cart like a child.” Natasha’s voice was quiet, not willing to draw attention from the other shoppers in the aisle, but there was an unignorable warning in her tone. She’d asked you three times to stop dragging your feet across the floors, and each time you promptly dragged them harder. You were absolutely certain that smudges of black looped the grocery store floors and aided as a map to your current location, but you didn’t care. You’d been so good, so painfully good and pliant and willing to bend to even the slightest gust of wind, but not today. Not now. Not when it was too hot and too cold at the same time. Not when it was too loud and too crowded and you’d asked them both if you could just stay home. They hadn’t wanted that. They wanted to go together, told you that you were going together even after you protested, and you know it’s because they’d wanted to get you some of your favorite treats for the end of the semester coming up, but how could they blame you for being cranky when you’d warned them about not wanting to come along at all. You’d been here for what felt like hours, and if your phone wasn’t being held captive in Wanda’s pocket, you’re sure the digits on your lockscreen would support your accusation. 

“Can we leave?!” You ignored Natasha’s warning, wiggled away from her when she got too close, and pressed yourself up against the shelves of cereal boxes. You wouldn’t fare well to the close contact she wanted to initiate, but she didn’t seem to get that, because the second you thought you had found peace in your little corner, she was right back in front of you with a glare only the worst criminals faced. She was not your loving and sweet dominant right now, you’d pushed her too far, and she didn’t take kindly to embarrassment. You’re pretty sure that the man three carts behind you had been gawking at your temperament since you came in, and while Wanda had sent him a glare, he still hadn’t gotten the hint that your little attitude didn’t concern him. Natasha grabbed at your wrists, pulling them away from your chest with a grip too strong to fight. Your breath hitched in your throat, and you wiggled immediately, but she wasn’t letting go. “Nat, let go.” You pleaded with her, desperately tried to get her to understand you needed space right now, but she was seething and subsequently blinded by your panic. 

“Natalia.” Wanda called out for her wife, her careful eye watching your movements despite the seeming disinterest on her lips. Your eyes flickered over to Wanda, and while to Natasha it appeared that you were a deer in headlights anticipating a scolding, the Sokovian could see the wisps of actual panic in your stare. “Let go.” 

Natasha listened, if only because a crowd had started to form toward the opposite end of the aisle and she wanted to move on before she became the cause of a traffic jam. Her hand left yours, and though it had been making your skin burn, you missed it instantly. Tears brimmed your eyes, but you refused to let her see that, and so instead of pleading that you leave only to be overlooked again, you just dropped your chin to your chest and followed along after them both with a drag in your step. 

“This is your chance to tell me what’s wrong.” You practically jumped out of your skin when Wanda’s voice appeared closer than it had been all afternoon. If you had leaned any closer into her, your arm would have brushed her chest. You shuffled away from her, beyond the point of communication. You thought you’d made it pretty clear that you wanted to leave, anytime you acted out Natasha didn’t hesitate to drag you away, but she hadn’t this time. You knew that realistically it was because she needed supplies to make dinner, but after weeks of being good, you couldn’t deny that you had missed the feeling of her heavy hands on your skin in a way that was less than kind. You could ask for what you needed, but you would rather die a slow painful death then ask for what she called a ‘maintenance spanking’. “If you’re not going to communicate, then I don’t want the attitude. You are making a scene. Drop it, pick out some snacks, and try to be nice.” 

“Don’t tell me what to do.” You huffed, making the rash decision to shove her body away from yours with both of your outstretched palms. Wanda’s lips set into a firm line, her eyebrows raised in surprise at the action. You’ve been rude, snarky even, but you’ve never raised your hands to her, even if it was only to create some space between your bodies. You shuffled on your feet, immediately regretting the decision to force space rather than ask for it. You’d been riding her last nerve for days, your sarcastic comments just the slightest bit meaner than usual, but she had been willing to overlook them because she knew you were stressed with finals and outside of those one-off comments you’d been helpful and obedient. There was no way she’d ignore this, and you wanted to cry thinking about how at the end of the night it wouldn’t be Natasha’s hands on your body that you wanted so desperately, but hers. “I– sorry.” You apologized weakly, not even sure what it was that you were apologizing for. Was it because the look in her eyes was undeniably scary, or was it because you pushed her? You knew that it was a mixture of both, but you needed that look to go away before you could even form a coherent thought. 

“In the cart.” She demanded, not leaving you any room to argue. You violently shook your head, knowing that being confined to such a small space would only make the panic in your belly worse. There were too many noises and stimulus, too many conflicting temperatures, being confined between four metal bumpers would certainly set you off and you were only just barely keeping yourself together now. “If you want to act like a child you’ll get treated like one. Natasha has asked you four times to stop dragging your feet, and frankly, I can’t trust that you’ll keep your hands to yourself anymore. You either sit in the cart, or you and I will go out to the car and you won’t be getting any of the treats you want. Which one is it going to be?” 

“I want Nat.” You pleaded with her, suddenly aware of the fact that you didn’t even know where the other redhead had wandered off to, or when she’d started moving. She had been right in front of you, but now you couldn’t spot her and the thought of losing her in the supermarket spiked worry in your chest. “Where’s Nat?” You didn’t care about how frantic you appeared, didn’t care that you were ignoring Wanda’s question and definitely making things worse for yourself. You hated getting separated, you hated breaking off into pairs even if the three of you had set a meet up location if this were to happen. 

Wanda, though annoyed with your behavior, sighed softly and dropped the threatening glare she’d been pointing at you. “Nat went to get some grapes and strawberries. You finished them this morning, remember?” You could only nod, remembering that you had in fact finished their fruit after refusing to eat the eggs that Wanda made for breakfast. It was too hot outside for anything warm to eat. They weren’t giving you a choice in tagging along, and although you couldn’t control where they dragged you, well you could if you had called your safeword and asked for space, but that wasn’t really what you wanted. You still had control over what you ate even if the supermarket was non negotiable, and you knew that the cold fruit would sit better in your stomach when it inevitably came time to leave. 

“This is the last time I’m going to ask you what’s wrong, Y/N. If you refuse to answer, I will be the one you deal with when we get home. This behavior is unacceptable.” Wanda remained firm, but there was concern in her voice that made you wonder if you would avoid punishment if you came clean. Deciding that you’d rather face humiliation than her heavy hand on your ass, you relented. 

“There’s too many people.” You whispered, shamefully dropping your eyes to the floor, counting the specs of black and gold in the tiles beneath your feet. The design was ugly when isolated, but somehow it worked for the aesthetic of the store when you focused on the full picture. “It’s too loud. And tomorrow's my last final and I’m not sure how it’s going to go, and I have to sleep at my dorm tonight and I haven’t done that since Natty was away. And I just need space right now but I don’t want to be alone.” 

The Maximoff residence had practically become your residence since the night you showed up in tears. You’d spent all of your nights in the soft guest bed, and most of your mornings in the dining room eating a homemade breakfast for the last six weeks. It was embarrassing to admit that you had gotten used to being there with them, that now that you had it, you didn’t want to trade it in for your stiff dorm room with a roommate you hadn’t spoken a word to since the first week of classes, even if it would only be for a handful of hours to sleep. You hated sleeping alone, even if you had slept alone in their house almost every night, spare the occasions Natasha fucked you into that fuzzy headspace she adores and they had let you crash in bed with them. Sleeping in your dorm was different, and lonely. And yeah, you had survived three years of dorm living prior to meeting them, but things were different now. You are different now. 

Wanda’s face melted into softness at your admission, and suddenly you felt silly for keeping it to yourself for so long, but you’d unasked for self-criticism had convinced you that you were being needy and unreasonable and they wouldn’t understand where your head was at even if you tried to articulate. After almost a year with Natasha, you should’ve known that wasn’t true, shouldn’t have even entertained that thought, but after showing both her and Wanda that you could be good for longer than just a couple hours, you’d felt like raising any problems no matter their origin would only aggravate them. You didn’t want to lose what you had, even if it meant being uncomfortable in a grocery store. 

“It is pretty overstimulating in here, isn’t it?” Wanda coos, her green eyes understanding and sympathetic. It’s a violent switch from how she’d been talking to you, but you thrive beneath her gentle validation of your feelings and find yourself nodding along. “Natty and I try our best to accommodate you, but we don’t know everything that can be overwhelming for you. We need you to tell us, so these things don’t happen. Shoving me didn’t make it any less crowded, and ignoring Nat didn’t make it any less loud. I know you were trying your best, but how could we have handled that better?” You should hate the way she’s speaking to you; like a child made of glass, but somehow it makes you feel better. She doesn’t sound mad anymore, there's no unspoken threat of consequences or stripped privileges, she’s just trying to get on the same page as you, trying to get you to understand where your mistakes had been so you can fix them in the future. You hate that you want more of this, whatever it is. 

“Telling you.” You sighed, shrugging your shoulders nonchalantly, trying to take away some of the blame that was becoming heavy guilt in your belly. “I didn’t think you’d listen.” 

“Have we ever not listened to you?” Wanda quirks an eyebrow, and you feel properly schooled beneath the expression. 

“I told you I didn’t want to come.” You tried to excuse yourself, but the lawyer was having none of your avoidance. You sighed, dropping your shoulders and focusing your attention on your cuticles, picking at the skin that had only recently begun to heal. “Nobody has ever taken me seriously before. My last girlfriend used to parade me around claiming exposure would ‘fix’ me. I didn’t think it would matter to you that I’m overstimulated.” 

Wanda didn’t know much of anything about your past relationships. Whenever you talked about them, which was admittedly almost never, it was only ever Natasha who was around to witness realization crash over you like high tide. Your past romantic partners and the estranged relationship with your family had completely destroyed you, however these two successful lawyers that you found yourself entangled with were slowly putting the pieces of your broken heart back together, even if they didn’t realize just how much they were helping you. 

“Do you want to leave?” Wanda didn’t dwell on your revelation, she didn’t pick it apart and hone in on all of the ways you knew that she could. She’s a lawyer, the very best one in the world, don’t tell Natasha you thought that; there were a million little things in your brief explanation that had set off alarm bells in her head, but she didn’t pry. You don’t know why you thought she would, but having the topic dropped before it was even picked up had soothed at least a fraction of your newfound worry. 

The question startled you, having expected that to be the last thing she suggested, but it felt good to know that she was willing to order takeout for dinner if it meant getting you out of this situation. You wanted to leave, you desperately wanted to run to the exit at the first implication that you were allowed, but they needed groceries, and you wanted the chocolate ice cream sandwiches Natasha had promised. “No.” You whispered, shaking your head just in case she hadn’t heard you over the toddler screaming bloody murder in the juice aisle. “I don’t know.” 

“Do you want to sit in the cart while Nat and I finish shopping? I’ll give you back your phone and you can listen to your music until we’re done. It’s not a punishment, stop looking at me like that.” Wanda teased, and you giggled softly at her scrunched up nose and creased eyes. It was definitely a better suited look than her angry glare, and you couldn’t stop your finger from reaching out to poke her. “Did you just boop my nose?” She laughed, all of your bratty behavior forgotten about, at least for now anyways. 

“It wanted to be booped. It told me.” You shrugged your shoulders, hyper aware of the fact that you’d voluntarily touched her and it hadn’t made your hand turn into flames. Your relationship was slowly on the mend, that much was undeniable,  but physical touch was still something you shied away from at no fault of her own, but rather your own insecurities that needed to be worked through. “Are you gonna tell Natty I pushed you?” 

“No.” Her honesty surprised you almost as much as her willingness to forgive your fatal misstep, but you nodded curtly, lips pressed into a thin line. 

“I didn’t mean to. You were just too close, and Natty didn’t listen when I asked her to let go and I panicked.” You mumbled out the reason for your behavior, aware that it sounded like an excuse but there was no ounce of judgment or disbelief in Wanda’s eyes. 

“I know.” She assured, and you deflated in relief. “You’re not going to do it again, if you do I will not be as forgiving, but I know you were feeling crowded, so I’m willing to let it go if you are.” 

You nodded eagerly, and Wanda smiled. “Can we go find Nat now?” 

-

As you expected, spending the night in your dorm was torturous. In the six weeks that you’d been away, you’d forgotten how your roommate snores and turns throughout the night, and her mattress was far noisier than yours had ever been. It hadn’t bothered you all that much at the start of the academic year, and maybe that had been because of your exhaustion with the adjustment and workload of seven classes instead of the typical four, or maybe you had just been able to get used to it, but now that you had discovered what true quiet sounds like when you sleep, there had not been a single ounce of rest achieved all night. 

Your alarm went off at fifteen minutes to six, and you cursed whoever was cruel enough to schedule an exam for seven in the morning on a Thursday in May, but you shuffled out of bed anyway and dressed quickly in the few articles of clothing that still lingered in your dorm. Most of them had been brought to the Maximoff residence, but what hadn’t made it over because it was significantly useless with the presence of warmer weather, had been dropped off in the storage unit paid for by your mother. The woman was a flaky figure in your life at best, definitely no parent, but you appreciate her dedication to your education. She paid for your tuition, she assured you had the best meal plan and access to books and study materials, and when the seasons changed and you were let out on break, she made sure there was a safe and trustworthy place to store your belongings. She’d never once said she was proud of you, but when she asked for a report of your grades and didn’t immediately berate you, you knew that she was at least satisfied. 

If you failed any of your finals, you knew there would be hell to pay. You already weren’t coming home for the summer like you usually did, and although your mother didn’t know the reason why, she was less than happy when you’d relayed the abrupt change in plans three weeks ago. She was a controlling narcissist, a woman that had brought you years of pain and suffering for her own pleasure, you knew what she was capable of the second she caught wind of academic failure, and you would not reward her the opportunity to berate you the way she did in high school when you received anything less than all A’s on your report card. It was stupid to allow a woman with no presence in your life to have so much control, but you needed to at least be perceived as a good daughter if she were going to keep paying your multi-thousand dollar bills. 

The weather today was just as hot as yesterday, but there was a rise of humidity in the air that you could feel without even stepping outside. The sky looked thick and unpleasant, miraculously blue and clear, but still gross. As much as you wanted to hide away in your room and avoid the four hour exam that awaited you, it wasn’t in the cards, and so begrudgingly you laced up your shoes and grabbed your favorite pen. It was a simple pen, nothing truly special about it, but since the day you’d stolen it from Natasha’s desk, it had been used for every paper exam. The gold lettering across the black body, the name of her and Wanda’s company, was beginning to scratch and chip from the conditions you carried it through. And for being something so beloved, anyone would have thought that you’d treat it with respect, but you released copious amounts of anger and frustration on the ballpoint pen. Your teeth dug into it when you didn’t know an answer, your nails scraped at the paint when the words you had stored away in your memory felt impossible to grasp, and there were countless times that the entire pen sat dismantled and in pieces on your desk when you just needed something else to focus on for a few seconds. During one exam, you’d taken it apart mid-way through. The spring had bounced from between your fingertips and ended up halfway across the room. Your professor was a real bitch, and hadn’t let you retrieve the piece until every single person had already left and finished. You passed the exam, but not by much, and you blamed your grade on the fact that you had to finish it with a purple gel pen that was less than special. You wouldn’t make that mistake again.

Leaving your room behind, you walked to the classroom that you’d be sitting the exam in. It wasn’t a building you were familiar with, and so you packed an extra ten minutes into your schedule to avoid being late. Flowers had started to bloom in the bushes, and the grass was so much greener then it had been in the dead of winter, but there was no comfort to be sought in this environment. Your university was fine, albeit a bit bland, but Westview had become your home. You thought Wanda’s flowers smelled sweeter then the ones planted here, and the grass in their yard was the brightest shade of green you’ve ever seen. You don’t know how they have the time to take such tender care with their plants, but it made sense for them. They were busy women, women with a fast paced life and career, but there were still mundane rituals that clung to their routine. Before the contract, it had been almost impossible to imagine CEO and world-class lawyer Natasha Maximoff taking out the trash, but now you know she does it every Wednesday. It was also impossible to imagine Wanda Maximoff on her knees and covered in mud, there was never even a wrinkle in her business attire when she returned from the office after sixteen hour days, but now you’re privy to the fact that she doesn’t shy away from getting dirty when she tends to the weeds in her garden. It’s the simple things that make their company so much better then what you’ve found at Sword University, but no matter how much you wish you could be in Westview with them, no amount of heel clicking could take you there. 

When you found the exam room, you noted that it was unpleasantly cold, and you cursed at your inability to have remembered to bring along a sweatshirt like Natasha had suggested. There was no consistency at school, some classrooms were blisteringly hot and you could work up a sweat in minutes just from sitting still, and some were so cold your fingers forgot how to function. It didn’t matter the season, or if you simply walked down the hallway, the temperature was never the same and it varied from room to room. You chose a desk near the windows. Not right next to them, knowing that it would get too hot if you were pressed right beside the uncovered sun, but close enough to still feel the lick of warmth as the golden beams of daylight nipped at your skin. It didn’t take much longer for your peers to start flooding in, and their presence brought another factor of warmth to the room, though it wasn’t much and some who hadn’t been lucky enough to find a seat near the windows shivered. You smiled at the familiar face of a student who had claimed the seat next to you. You didn’t have many friends, didn’t see the point in socializing when your focus needed to be academic, but you had grown fond of a few of the faces you saw every week. 

“This your last exam?” Monica Rambeau asked you, leaning in closer to your desk so that you wouldn’t have to shout over the other students in the room. You had seen her around since your very first class in freshman year, and you quickly became reliant on each other for notes if one of you happened to be sick and needed to miss a lecture you shared. Your major was complex, not entirely science related but not entirely separate either. You wanted to focus more on security and technology, but for some reason your school demanded that all computer science majors take chemistry and physics. Monica was good at both, you were not. She had saved your ass with her color coded notes too many times to ever ignore her small-talk. 

“Thankfully.” You laughed, tapping your pen against your desk anxiously. “I’m moving the rest of my shit out next week and then I’m spending the summer in Westview. What about you?” 

The brunette shook her head, and you winced in sympathy. As grueling as it had been to have most of your exams scheduled in the same week, save for the three classes that had requested papers and projects from you, it was nice to be done so soon into the exam period. You knew that some other unfortunate students would be stuck here for at least another week. “I have two more tomorrow, then I’m heading back to Louisiana. You ready for this?” 

“Not at all.” You laughed, though your jittery leg and fidgeting fingers easily gave away just how anxious you were. “Sitwell hasn’t made sense a day in his life, I doubt the exam will be any more coherent than his lectures.” 

Monica laughed loudly at your acquisition, but she nodded eagerly in agreement. “Tell me about it. I’ve been going over your study sheet for the last two weeks and I think I just barely understand the content from chapter one.” 

Your attention snapped to the door when it snapped open again, but unlike the last handful of times, it wasn’t a student that entered, it was your Professor Jasper Sitwell himself, and in his hands were thick bundles of paper that would determine the next year of your life. If you failed this exam, you could kiss your paid for tuition goodbye. You appreciated Monica’s attention to body language, because she seemed to get the hint that you were in no mood to continue your conversation now that Sitwell had arrived. She still offered you a smile though, a whispered ‘good luck’, before she turned straight in her desk and placed three colored pens down firmly. Leave it to Monica to remain dedicated to her color coding even at the end of the semester. 

The time had flown by after that. You’d groaned when you saw that the estimated time of this exam would be four hours, but now you felt like that wasn’t nearly enough. The first six pages of questions had come easily to you, though it was still challenging and you doubted that most of your answers were entirely correct, but the last page had stumped you rather quickly and entirely. You jumped between questions, filling in pieces of information when they came to mind, but nothing could jog your memory when you were confronted with the very last question of the exam. Your brows furrowed, a sheen of perspiration clung to your skin. Was it a trick question? No, a professor wouldn’t purposefully stump you when so much was on the line. Despite your confidence in Sitwell, you’re absolutely certain that you’ve never gone over any materials that even slightly relate to the last topic. You’ve read the textbook forward and backwards, you practically dreamed about this course material, but you had never seen these words present in any of the lectures. 

Your hand shot up from the desk before you could stop yourself, but by time you realized you were seeking attention from Sitwell, he had called you up to the front of the room. A glance at the clock on the wall beside the door told you there was just under twenty minutes left. By this point in an exam, most students would have been gone, but every single one of them still remained, and although you weren’t intentionally looking at anyone’s paper, the few that you had seen had all been open on the last page. You weren’t the only one confused.

“How can I help you, Ms. Y/L/N?” Sitwell kept his voice quiet, and like always, detached. You wondered how a man who seemed to hate every person even remotely younger than himself had found a profession in teaching, but you didn’t let his attitude deter you from asking anyway. This question could very easily make you seem like an idiot, but you were confident in yourself, and well, Jasper Sitwell seemed exactly the type to make a mistake like this. 

Matching his quiet tone, assuring that only the first row of students could hear you, you laid your exam in front of him and pointed out the question. “This isn’t related to your course, sir. It’s not in the textbook, and we’ve never gone over it in a lecture.” 

You waited for the moment he berated you for questioning his exam but it never came. When you grew the balls to look up at him, you found a smirk of satisfaction on his lips. “You’re correct. That question has no value in this course. It’s been on my exam for the last ten years and nobody has ever questioned me. Congratulations, Ms. Y/L/N, it seems somebody has finally read the textbook.” 

A look of sheer bewilderment crossed your face, but Sitwell gave you no chance to speak again before he promptly took the exam from your hands and kept it at his side. Anxiety shot through your stomach when you realized that he wasn’t going to give it back to you. There was still thirteen minutes left on the clock, and you’d intended to spend every last second meticulously checking your work until he had to pry it from your fingertips when time ran out. So much could be wrong about your answers, you could’ve missed a question or twenty, and now you’d have no way of knowing because he wouldn’t give it back. 

“Be on your way.” He nodded toward the door when you didn’t budge. There was no use arguing with him, he never listened anyways, but you couldn’t just walk away without checking over your paper one last time. 

“Sir, I still have time to go over my answers.” You weakly protested, a single palm extended in the direction of your exam, hoping that for once he was willing to budge. No luck, his jaw clenched and his eyes hardened, and you took that as a sign to get the hell out of dodge before he did something drastic like rip your exam in half. You would never be taking another class from him again, if you even got the chance to finish your degree. 

With a sigh of defeat, you headed back to your desk, collected your lucky pen, and waved subtly in Monica’s direction before you headed to the door and broke away from anything and everything even remotely related to academics for the next three months. 

-

Ever since childhood, you have adored the sight of the sun in the spring and summer months. Not in the middle of the day when it was blinding and heavy, but toward the approach of night when everything it’s surface could touch was brightened by ripples of violet and peach presence. Tonight had been the first expanse of light across the shoretown the Maximoff’s lived in, and though they’d both been home all day with a rare break from office obligations, their cars were warm to the touch when you passed by them in the driveway. 

Despite the warm air and lingerance of sunshine off in the horizon, your disposition was reflective of the colder times when attitudes clashed and people let themselves fall inward. You’d been blind to the change in mood as a child. There was no bad time of year when you were seven and strangers stopped to compliment your velcro shoes as they passed, but now that adulthood had claimed what remained of your innocence, you’d been shown the true nature of winter and fall. The first time you realized that strangers were nicer in the summer, you’d been fifteen. Admittedly, that was a bit old to only just be realizing that life was cruel and people were snobs, but you’d always been an optimist; you still are an optimist. You vowed to never become someone so mean after that day, but that was yet another promise you had failed to keep for yourself. 

Your face is set in a permanent scowl, which seems to be the new normal as Wanda and Natasha move about around you. Your arms are crossed in front of your chest, your eyes staring straight ahead of you at the movie that’s playing in the background. They’re attempting to get the house straightened up, something about hosting a barbeque over the weekend and not wanting to leave the mess to deal with at a later date. Had you been in a better mood, you would’ve offered to help, would’ve laughed and joked along with them, but the unknown of your last exam has firmly pushed you over the edge and now every minor inconvenience is working on your last available nerve. 

Wanda laughs at something Natasha whispers in her ear, the two of them somehow always finding a reason to gravitate toward one another despite the many different tasks that still needed to be accomplished. You didn’t think the house was as messy as Wanda claimed, but you hadn’t offered her that briefest sentence of reassurance. When you walked in, defeat heavy on your shoulders as you over analyzed the exchange between yourself and Professor Sitwell, you’d wanted nothing more than to fall into Natasha’s lap and let her distract you however she saw fit. She had, for a couple minutes at least, but then she’d pushed you out of her embrace and had started helping Wanda around the house. The Sokovian was practically on a mission to regain some order, dusting bookshelves and tables, collecting stray blankets that had made their way into the living room and across random furniture pieces. It hadn’t looked messy, just lived in, but that wasn’t good enough. 

“Can you lift your feet for a second?” The taller of the pair looked at you expectantly, the neck of their expensive vacuum clutched between her ringed fingers. She hadn’t been the slightest bit deterred by your poor attitude when you came barreling into the house and hadn’t even offered her so much as a hello before you plopped down in Natasha’s lap and dug your face into her neck, and she had even let you put your feet up on her coffee table when eventually the Russian left your side start cleaning. She had been very patient with you, knowing how nervous you were about the exam and your results, but much like yours, her patience wasn’t unlimited. “I asked you a question, I expect an answer.” 

You huffed, readjusting yourself on the couch, though you still didn’t move your legs out of her way. Natasha watched the scene unfold with an uninterpretable expression in her eyes. She was aware of how you’d been testing Wanda more and more as the weeks went by, and she had warned you that it was only a matter of time before the woman snapped and dealt with your attitude by her own measures. Three weeks ago, that would’ve been enough to scare you into submission, but you had shrugged off her warning to stop pushing boundaries, entirely uninterested in the conversation she was trying to have. 

Wanda sighed and let go of the vacuum, resting it against the couch to be grabbed again later. You’d expected her to move onto a different task, maybe even march her way upstairs until you changed your attitude, but when her hands grabbed at your ankles and harshly removed them from the coffee table, you gasped in shock and flinched away from her touch, a glare settled in her direction. 

“Stop!” You whined, kicking your foot out in her direction as a weak attempt at retaliation, but you made no attempt to put them back on the coffee table. Instead, you extended them outward, taking up almost the entire length of the couch. Not that it mattered, neither one of them were planning on sitting down with you anytime soon. Wanda quirked an eyebrow down at you, an expression that you were getting seriously tired of, before she reached for the remote and turned off the television. “I was watching that!” You cried out in annoyance, reaching for the remote that was held away from your hands. 

“Good girls get to watch movies.”  She simply stated and handed the remote over to Natasha, who seemed to know exactly where it needed to go. The remote was promptly placed on one of the highest shelves in the room, and the fact that it had been done on purpose because she knew you wouldn’t be able to reach that high without a stool only angered you further. 

“So what? You’re gonna ground me? I’m not a child.” You snapped at her, your voice tinged with what could only be described as pure venom. The snarky comments you’d been making for days seemed like child's play now, at least then you’d had the decency to show her some semblance of respect, but now, there wasn’t an ounce of anything kind in your tone. 

“If you’re going to act like one, I’m going to treat you like one. I have been more than patient with you, even though you’re being nothing short of a brat. My willingness to ignore your little attitude will not last much longer, so I suggest you get over yourself before I have you over my lap.” Her words should’ve scared you, they should’ve worked as a last ditch effort to get you to behave, but if anything, it only spurred you on further. You were beyond the point of simply wanting some kind of punishment. Unlike in recent days when it had been a tickle at the back of your mind, now you desperately needed it. The end of the semester always felt like the biggest relief until it actually came, and you were left with no productive purpose to fulfill. You needed a push in the right direction, and now that you had been introduced to this dynamic, where Natasha was more than willing to make decisions for you and take care of you, you wanted to fall right into that state of comfort and control. Your mind wouldn’t let you stop thinking though, and no matter how hard you pleaded with yourself to just let her take the reins, control would not be so easily relinquished. It had been weeks since your last spanking. Days since the last time she had fucked you hard enough to cause you to slip into subspace. For months you’d been shown and taught about the beauty of this dynamic, and it was just suddenly beginning to fall away. You knew that you didn’t need to be naughty to receive a spanking, knew that if you asked she’d be more than happy to provide it, but you didn’t want to need her just to feel content. It was like a double-edged sword had rammed its way into your brain and every time you turned your head you fought between completely surrendering control and always maintaining it. 

“If I’m a brat then you’re a bitch.” You met Wanda’s stare, there was no backing down now. You were so close to what you wanted, and you couldn’t even bring yourself to care that it wasn’t Natasha you were seeking it from. Ever since that night curled up in her arms when the world felt like it was ending, something was undeniably different. You didn’t want to crave her but you did, and the longer she refused to play into your games, the more you wanted her. She was scary when she was mad, terrifying when she was livid, but somehow you had crossed both of those thresholds in only one sentence. There was something dark in her eyes that you’d never seen before, and it made your stomach twist into knots knowing that you were the sole reason she had lost her happy spark. She radiated dominance, expelled the radiant energy of someone who knew they had control, even if for the briefest second, you had been foolish enough to think you were the one with it. It wasn’t anger or frustration in her eyes, although they were both present, but rather dominance. You’d seen her be dominant, you’d been scolded by her many times, but it had always been concealed. She had always remained respectful of your boundaries and control to Natasha only, but you had pushed her too far. Things had changed too much. Neither of you were the women you had been at the start of this situation, and it was only a matter of time before the carpet rolled beneath your feet and you had to face the music. 

“Get upstairs.” She demanded of you, and for the first time since showing up, you didn’t have the words to fight. You scrambled off the couch and practically flew toward the stairs, only to stop halfway up when you realized you didn’t know where she wanted you to go. 

“Our bedroom, honey.” Natasha called after you, having watched the entire thing unfold. Now that you realized what position you had walked yourself into, there was anxiety flooding your desperate gaze as you pleaded with her to save you. Natasha wouldn’t save you this time though. She had warned you, told you that you wouldn’t like the trap you were walking yourself into, but you hadn’t listened. “I’ll be up to talk with you in a second, it’s okay.” 

“Y/N, if you are not in that room in the next twenty seconds, I will not be so kind as to give you the choice about what I spank your ass with.” Wanda’s voice was level, it didn’t waver like you knew yours would if you even dared to try and speak. You nodded frantically, scrambling to get up the stairs and into their bedroom before the countdown in your head got down to zero. 

You didn’t know what to do once you were inside, didn’t know if you should close the door or leave it open, didn’t know if you should sit on the bed or continue to stand beside it. You’d never been alone in their bedroom, it felt like an odd invasion of privacy now that you were. Your mind reeled with endless possibilities, though none of them pleasant. Wanda was going to spank you, she had practically promised that, but what else would she do? Would she make you terminate your contract with Natasha because you’d called her a bitch? Would she slap you around like your father had done when you’d ever dared to disrespect him so aggressively? Tears pricked your eyes at all of your unanswered questions, and you noted that this feeling in your belly was distinctly different then the times when Natasha pulled you over her lap. You’d gotten a handful of punishments before, of course you have because even though you like being good for her, it’s still fun to act out, but those punishments had always been light with the unspoken promise of sexual relief afterward. This was the first time you’d ever actually been punished outside of sexual interactions. This was the first time you’d ever pissed Wanda off enough to be the one who dealt the cards. So much was changing and you couldn’t keep up, but really there was nothing for you to keep up with. You didn’t know what would happen next, you had never been in this situation before. 

The floorboards creaked beneath footsteps, and you noted that just beyond the window not covered by blinds, the sunshine had finally settled. Nothing was left to see beside darkened skies and the roofs of all of the other houses on the block, though even then the sight was void of any actual interest. The Maximoff residence was the largest on the block, and it towered over the houses that sat on both sides of it. You’d always thought that CEO’s lived in big lavish mansions, but Wanda and Natasha had chosen a perfectly normal town to settle down in. They had expensive cars, sure, but that wasn’t even a fraction of the money they had. They were total anomalies, and that fact was only making you grow more uneasy. 

“Detka.” Natasha sighed, and you were thankful it was only her that had entered. Had Wanda been with her, you would’ve spiral face down into a panic attack that couldn’t be stopped. “I warned you, did I not?” 

You sighed, knowing that there was no time for her to give you all the reassurances you needed. Wanda was being kind enough to let Natasha check in on you, but you doubted she had the patience to sit downstairs for hours as you pleaded with your dominant to give you answers even she didn’t have. “J-Just tell me what’s gonna happen. I need to know what’s going to happen.” 

“She’s going to spank you, and then she’s going to hold you, and reassure you that you’re okay. No different from what I do. Are you okay with her spanking you? I know we’ve talked about it, but this isn’t the funishment you thought you’d be getting when we agreed to those conditions, huh?” Natasha collected you into her arms, being surprisingly gentle with you despite the fact that you had just called her wife a bitch. You shook your head against her chest, fisting her loose fitting t-shirt in your heads, fearing that she would pull away far too early for your liking. 

“I wanted you to spank me.” You admitted sheepishly into her touch, sighing softly when her fingers tangled into your hair and gently worked out the knots that lingered near the ends. “I’ve been good and you’ve been… soft. And I just can’t get my brain to be quiet, and I wanted you to spank me so I kept trying to push your buttons and you just kept forgiving me.” 

“Daddy’s been pretty lenient with you, hasn’t she?” Natasha cooed, not placing blame on your shoulders even though you knew she very easily could have. You nodded in response to her question, feeling better now that she was aware of the root cause of your attitude, even if that didn’t save you from Wanda’s wrath. “You’ve been breaking a lot of rules, rules that Wanda’s aware of.” 

“She’s gonna give me ten for every one, isn’t she?” You winced, knowing that this would not be a pleasant experience and your ass was sure to hurt every time you sat down for at least the next week. 

“She is, and it’s going to hurt. It’s supposed to hurt, but she’s not going to push you farther than you can handle. What do you call if you need a break?” Natasha asked sweetly, pulling your face away from her chest and holding your cheeks in her hands, forcing you to look up into her eyes and see that there's no lingering resentment or anger. 

“Yellow.” You answered, the word engraved in your brain despite having never needed to call it. “Red if I need it to stop completely. But… we’re not playing.” 

“Just because she’s not going to touch you after doesn’t mean that it’s okay for her to break you, detka. Is that what you thought was going to happen?” Natasha frowns, her lips turning deeper downward when you nodded as an answer. 

“My dad… punished me with violence. He didn’t stop until he wanted to. You’ve only ever punished me sexually, not because I purposely broke the outside rules.” You whispered, another hint at your traumatic past hanging in the air. “I called her a bitch. I tried to kick her. I pushed her in the store yesterday.” You admitted, though when there was no reaction, you guessed that Wanda had already told her. 

“Because you needed space. She is not going to punish you for that. She’s going to punish you because you were being disrespectful, and because you need it, huh? You need help getting that brain to shut off. You did so many big things this week, I bet it’s not that easy to just come back to this dynamic and allow us to take control when you’ve been the one in charge all week.” Natasha whispered knowingly, a glint in her eyes that reassured you of her understanding. “Finals are stressful. When Wanda and I were in college, we used to go at each other until we were red in the face and then we’d move on like nothing happened. We get it, milaya. We don’t expect you to be good at this yet, or to know how to ask for what you need. You can stop thinking the world is going to end because you made a mistake.” 

“I meant to call her a bitch, but I didn’t actually mean it.” You admitted softly and Natasha chuckled, pulling you in closer and laying a kiss to the tip of your nose. 

“We both know what you meant, malyshka. She’s not downstairs brewing in anger, even though I’m sure that’s what you’re thinking. This dynamic is not about fear and power. I should’ve explained that better. You have all the power here, honey, but just like you can call red, so can she. It’s a balance, a team effort. You got it?” 

“I got it.” You sighed, leaning into her touch, wishing you could just surrender to this moment for the rest of your life, but there was no way that was happening. As daunting as it was, you needed Wanda to punish you. You want to let go of the guilt, you want to relinquish control and just listen to what they ask of you. “I’m sorry.” 

“I’m not the one you need to be apologizing to, but it’s okay. You did nothing wrong, even if I don’t exactly like you calling my wife a bitch.” She teased, her fingers leaving your cheeks to trail down toward your ribs where she knows your ticklish. You shrieked in response, wiggling away from her fingers just in time for Wanda to knock on the open bedroom door and announce her presence. 

She was significantly calmer then she had been downstairs, and that faint lick of anger in her eyes had settled to dust, but she still captivated you and sought for your submission. Her eyes were green, you forced yourself to remember that fact. They weren’t overcome with blackness like all the other times you’ve awaited punishment, but thoughts of your childhood didn’t even come to mind as you let yourself be present in this moment. This was not your childhood. The second you needed this to stop, or you needed her to slow down, you had to say one simple word and it would. As much as this act was about you giving over control, you knew that the reality was you would never be fully powerless.

You didn’t know what to say, if you should even say anything at all, so you merely waved your hand in Wanda’s direction, not wanting to completely ignore her. She smiled softly at you, not softening her body language, but at least her face mirrored your greeting. 

“Hi, malen’kaya.” She laughed softly, and you were relieved to find that Natasha had been being honest about Wanda not brewing in her anger, though you hadn’t really doubted her, just needed that validation for yourself. “You talk to Natty?” 

“Mmhm.” You nodded your head, unaware of how your hand still tangled in the fabric of Natasha’s t-shirt gripped onto her harshly. It was an unconscious thing, but was quickly soothed by a kiss being placed into your hairline. 

“I’m gonna be right here, ангел. If I think you need to call red and you’re not doing it yourself, I’m going to call it. Nothing bad is going to happen.” She promised, and you felt better at the proposition that she’d be looking out for you as well. 

“That was quite the show you put on downstairs.” Wanda mused, her face back to that blank slate of dominance that made your palms clammy. You stepped closer to Natasha, just barely managing to nod your head at her admission. “Come with me.” 

“Go ahead, I’ll still be here.” Natasha sent you toward Wanda with a gentle shove, and when you looked back at her over your shoulder, she merely smiled in reassurance. 

Wanda led you over to the walk-in closet You’d never been inside, but you’d seen Natasha disappear into it after a scene, usually when she was scrounging around to find a specific cooling lotion for your ass. Wanda didn’t make any efforts to invade your space, giving you time to accept your fate on your own accord. The space was large, and there were no shortage of dresses and suits hung up on the taller racks. You smiled softly at a purple suit in the corner, wondering which of the two women it belonged to. 

“That’s Natasha’s.” Wanda hummed, seeming to follow your eye toward the suit. “That’s not why we're in here though.” 

You nodded, pulling your eye away from the suit in favor of following whatever box Wanda was pointing out. It was large and black, one of the only objects in the closet that looked like it didn’t really belong. She walked over to it, getting down on her knees and motioning for you to do the same. 

“I can either spank you with my hand, or with a paddle.” You swallowed thickly at your options, but nodded your head and looked down at the case that Wanda had pulled open. Your eyes practically bulged out of your head at the sight of so many sex toys, but Wanda merely laughed at your flushed cheeks. “Natasha isn’t much a fan of being paddled. It stings and will burn for longer than a hand spanking does, but she has received plenty of both.” There’s a tinge of fond exasperation in Wanda’s words that make you think Natasha is better at asking for what she needs than you are, and that most of the spankings Wanda’s internally recounting aren’t all derived from punishment. You remember the conversation you had weeks ago, where Wanda had confirmed that Natasha was the submissive in their relationship. 

“I don’t want that.” You whispered, shaking your head adamantly. “Never.” 

“Okay. That’s perfectly okay. Not everyone likes instruments being used for a spanking. This is the lotion I’m going to put on you afterward. It’s the same one Natasha uses, but I want you to know what to expect.” Wanda gives you the bottle, and you don’t even bother to look down at it, entirely focused on her face. There’s something different about her like this, so easily dominant and captivating, you want to commit this new energy to memory. “You’re going to get fifty spanks. If you need to slow down, or if you need to stop, I expect that you call your safewords. If I need to stop, I’m going to call mine. Part of your punishment is that you will not be receiving an orgasm afterward. You're lucky I haven’t taken them away for the next week.” 

You gulped, suddenly remembering that this was a punishment, although you didn’t know how you could have forgotten that fact. Wanda smirked in amusement at your flushed features, and tenderly she reached up to smoothing stray strands of hair away from your face. “Can I kiss you?” She asked quietly, and although it was Wanda not Natasha, you nodded eagerly. You didn’t hate her, you didn’t dislike her, you wanted her just as badly as you wanted Natasha. You didn’t know how you’d been so blind to that fact for so long. “Words, detka.” 

“Yes.” You breathed out, already leaning into her touch when she set her hands on your cheeks and pulled your face into hers. Her lips were soft beneath yours, softer than Natasha’s, and she tasted like the fakest cherries. Her tongue swiped across your bottom lip, asking for entrance rather than demanding it. You didn’t hesitate to let her in, moaning softly into her mouth when her hot and heavy tongue licked against yours and officially claimed you the way you had seen it do to Natasha on a handful of occasions. 

You don’t know how many minutes had passed as you sat on the floor of the walk-in closet, but when Wanda finally pulled away from you, her chest rising and falling faster than it had been before, your cheeks were flush for more than one reason. 

“You can’t kiss me like that after you tell me I’m not allowed to cum tonight.” You whined softly, squirming on the floor as your arousal made its presence known between your legs. Wanda laughed in amusement, a dangerous smirk playing on her lips. 

“I guess little girls need to learn how to behave if they want something from Mommy then.” The softest inch of her accent had drifted into the words, and if that wasn’t enough to send a rush of pleasure straight to your core, the added bonus of her title was. You whined desperately, your thighs rubbing together as you sought out even a second of relief. Flashes of Natasha teasing you on the phone came to mind, and the lust in your eyes only intensified. “Enough.” Wanda scolded, “I want you naked and bent over the bed in the next three minutes.” 

You nodded obediently, having done enough arguing for the night. You got to your feet with the same grace as bambi, practically bolting out of the closet and into the bedroom. You giggled softly when you realized that your first kiss with the lawyer who was very proudly a lesbian had been in a closet of all places. 

“There’s no way whatever happened in that closet deserves to be laughed about.” Natasha quirked an eyebrow in your direction, though it was significantly less scary then when Wanda did it. She watched you strip out of your clothes hurriedly, not sparing the few minutes you had been given to fold them nicely in a pile. 

“Your wife is a lesbian.” You deadpanned, though you knew Natasha was very much aware of that fact if the felt pride flag in what you assumed was Wanda’s side of the closet had ever caught her attention. 

“Yes, thank you for stating the obvious.” 

“And she just kissed me in the closet.” You giggled, and Natasha couldn’t say that she wasn’t equally as amused as you were, but she had the decency to control her laughter in front of Wanda, who you hadn’t even realized was standing right behind you. 

“If you don’t want me to add another ten onto your fifty, you’ll bend your ass over my bed and stop making me wait.” Your blood went cold and your spine straightened as you felt the softest trace of Wanda’s warm breath against the shell of your ear. The warning didn’t need to be whispered twice, because you were already scrambling to get into position, a lot less nervous then you had been before. “I want you to count them all. If you miss one, I add two more.” 

“Okay.” You whispered, already fisting the comforter in your hands, waiting for the first strike to land against your uncovered ass. You didn’t even have it in your to be embarrassed about Wanda seeing you so exposed, just wanting to get this situation over with so that you could fall face first into Natasha’s chest. 

“Is that how we address our dominants now?” Wanda practically growled, standing so closer to you that you could feel the heat of her body radiating onto yours. 

“Yes, Mommy.” You fixed your mistake, your eyes pinched closed as you pushed your hips backward until they met her thighs, unconsciously seeking relief for your clit that was pulsing between your legs. You shrieked in surprise when she abruptly stepped away and laid the first hit onto your left cheek in only a matter of seconds. It didn’t take a genius to know that Wanda was well practiced in this domain. The spank was hard, significantly harder then Natasha had ever started out with, and you knew you were in for it with the promise of forty-nine more to come. “One, Mommy.” 

Your grip on the comforter got tighter and tighter with each spank that came next until your knuckles were white and your chin trembled from the onslaught of pain. At the thirteenth spank, you moaned in pleasure, and your hips bucked backward  desperately searching for pressure between your thighs that never came and wouldn’t come. Wanda’s laughter was anything but genuine behind you, and you didn’t even want to imagine what you must look like to her; bent over the bed she shares with her wife, your ass pink from the assault of her palm, and arousal dampening the insides of your thighs. 

“So much for not having a pain kink.” She mused, though she wasn’t really talking to you. Natasha was sitting at the head of the bed with a smug gleam in her eyes, and you knew the sight of you like this was turning her on, if the dilation in her pupils was any indication of that fact. “Little slut is dripping.” You gasped when soft fingers ran over your ass, dipping lower and lower until they found your empty entrance that begged for anything to fill it, be it a dildo or the fingers of the woman who was responsible for pushing you into this state. “Do you like when Mommy hits you?” 

“Yes.” You whine, not even attempting to keep your hips still as Wanda collects your arousal on the tips of her fingers, but like promised, never reaches your clit. You cried out your protests when her fingers left your core, only for you to gasp in shock when she leaned forward on the bed and fed them expectantly to Natasha who let her mouth fall open in acceptance.

The redhead moaned at the taste of you on her tongue, lapping at Wanda’s fingers until they were clean of your excitement. A needy moan left your lips seeing the blissful expression on the face of your dominant, and desperately you reached out for her hand that laid next to yours overtop of the white blankets on the bed. She let you grasp it, let you squeeze it and pull at it, but she never leaned in any closer to you. This was a punishment, you would not be rewarded midway through. 

Wanda’s additional weight caused the bed to dip, and you had to readjust your stance to keep from slipping onto the floor. She wasn’t behind you anymore, rather perched on the bed beside your body, leaning in close to her wife whose lips shone in the dim lighting of the room with traces of your arousal. Wanda kissed her deeply, the wet sounds their moving mouths made taunting you further, and you groaned in response to their teasing. The lawyer who hadn’t even gotten halfway through your punishment moaned at the taste of you on her tongue, only pulling away from Natasha when she needed a break for air. 

She was back behind the second she was breathing normally, and the fourteenth spank came in the same place her thirteenth one had. You counted out the spanks as they came, but other than the contact her palm made with your ass, you were properly ignored. If Wanda made a comment, it was directed to Natasha, and the one time you had been bold enough to answer for yourself, you had been met with a spank to the back of your thigh that was admittedly very soft and careful. 

It was after twenty that you no longer found pleasure in her hits, and your moans and whines had turned to cries and sobs. Natasha held your hand firmly, her thumb rubbing against your knuckles as you took your punishment well. Wanda was proud of you, even if she hadn’t told you that yet. 

“F-forty!” You sobbed out, arching away from the lawyer's hand only seconds after it came down on your ass. Your entire body ached from the position you were half-stood in, your cunt pulsed with need, but your ass was on fire and you had no doubt that it would be bruised by sunrise tomorrow. “Please.” You cried out, but you didn’t even know what you were begging for.  

“You’re doing so good. You’re doing so good for me, milaya.” Wanda soothed you quickly and effectively, her tone soft and gentle as she let you have your feelings. The heavy hand that had been assaulting your skin for the last twenty minutes if the clock on her bedside table was accurate was suddenly soft as she rubbed soft circles on your ass, soothing the sting into a more bearable ache. “Ten more and then we can cuddle. Why don’t you let Natty’s hand go and she’ll go get you some water.” 

“N-No! No! Natty stay!” You held onto her desperately, like even the suggestion of her leaving would make it come true. 

“I’m staying, malyshka. I’m staying.” Natasha assured you, scooting closer to your trembling body so she could lay a hand on your naked back, her firm touch grounding you in this moment where both of your dominants were with you. “You’re okay. You’re being so good. Such a good girl. Ten more baby, think you can do that?” 

You nodded albeit weakly, and Wanda took that as her sign to keep going, to get this over with so that she could put her efforts into comforting you. It was on the last spank that you had crumbled completely, going limp against the bed as you sobbed in relief. You made the decision that you never wanted to piss Wanda off to this extent again. 

“Good girl. You were so good. Took your spanking so well.” Wanda helped you stand up, spinning you around so that her eyes could meet yours for the first time in half an hour. 

“Mommy.” You sobbed, falling face first into her chest, clutching the fabric of her shirt in your trembling fists. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” You repeated it like a mantra, sobs and sniffles the only other audible sound that you could hear. You didn’t recognize Wanda praising you for taking your punishment so well, you didn’t hear her whisper of a promise that it was over and you were forgiven. You hadn’t even realized that Natasha had promptly left the bedroom and gone down to the kitchen to retrieve water and a snack if you wanted it. 

“Hey, hey. Look at me, look at Mommy.” Wanda coaxed your attention up at her, pulling your face out of the pit of darkness you had found against her chest. “You’re okay. It’s over. It’s all over.” 

You nodded weakly, letting Wanda guide you into the middle of the bed and onto your belly. As promised, she rubbed the cooling lotion into your skin, mumbling soft praises beneath her breath whenever you flinched away from the contact. The soft cooling effect hadn’t taken long to set in, and when it did, it was like an immediate sense of relief had washed over your senses, though everything was still foggy and far away. You only barely recognized Natasha sitting down beside you, but you whined in protest when she tried to pull you into her side, reaching out to Wanda with a pleading look in your eyes that neither one of them could ignore. 

It hurt to sit, that was putting it lightly, but you forced yourself up into a sitting position so that you could accept the bottle of water Natasha offered. She held it up to your lips as you gulped it down quickly, finishing half the bottle before she pulled it away, worried that you’d upset your stomach if you drank it all so quickly. Wanda had laid down beside you, forcing you onto her chest to alleviate the discomfort in your bottom. With your head on her chest, your legs between hers, your eyes searched for Natasha as she moved around the room, collecting pajamas and a wet washcloth that would be used to clean up the unfixed mess between your legs. 

The first pass of the warm fabric between your legs had rubbed against your clit accidentally, and you moaned in pleasure that was quickly taken away. “Sorry, sweetheart. Not tonight.” She shushed your cries softly, though it didn’t make you any happier. You wiggled against Wanda at the uncomfortable feeling you weren’t used to being left with, and she didn’t try to stop you from rubbing your legs together. 

“Tomorrow.” She whispered against your temple when you grew frustrated at not being able to fully satisfy the ache. “The more you move the worse it’s going to get. Mommy will take care of you tomorrow, just rest for right now. Close your eyes, detka.” 

When Wanda’s finger attempted to wipe the fallen tears off your cheeks, you were quick to capture the finger between your teeth, and she didn’t even stop you. She smiled down at your flushed face, feeling more than content with your current clinginess. She knew you were down pretty far in that floaty headspace Natasha managed to ease you into every so often, and pride swelled in her chest knowing you were comfortable enough to allow her the privilege of not only seeing you this way, but making you this way. 

“Ten bucks says she doesn’t leave your side tomorrow.” Natasha had hummed softly once she was sure you were asleep, only half dressed in the pajamas she had pulled out of the dresser for you. The shorts on your legs were a pair of hers, but you had been adamant against her putting the t-shirt on your body when you realized it entailed pulling away from Wanda’s chest. 

Wanda rolled her eyes, though there was a fond smile on her lips that gave away her true feelings about this shift in your dynamic. Not perfect, but getting there. “I’m not making a deal, I know I’ll lose, Romanoff.” 

“It’s Maximoff. Or did you forget?” Natasha quirked an auburn eyebrow, mirroring the expression Wanda had mastered after years of practice. She leaned over your body, careful not to jostle you too much and rouse you from slumber, and she kissed her wide softly, though the taste of your arousal still clung to her taste buds, and when Wanda realized, she shoved her away. 

“If you keep kissing me when you taste like her I’ll never be taken seriously again.” The Sokovian warned, already addicted to the taste of your arousal, though she took punishment seriously, and it wouldn't be until the early afternoon settled overtop of Westview tomorrow when you found out just how good she is with her tongue.

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[chaotic-mystery]

Code Red | Chapter Seven: I Love Older Men

pairing: dbf!Joel Miller x f!reader (no outbreak)

summary: Your big date with Joel is finally here and you end the night on a good note, or a good feeling perhaps.

content warnings: SMUT, 18+ only blog MDNI. Enemies to lovers, dads best friend Joel, age gap (readers in her twenties and Joel is in his 40s), slow burn, first date jitters, reader has hair Joel can brush from her face, no other descriptors, Joel puts reader on the dining table, finally getting some smut, eh? oral sex (f receiving bc he's a ladies man), orgasm denial until you agree with him, power imbalance, dirty talk, thigh smacking, biting, a few sips of beer but no one is buzzed, horny overload, cum eating if you use a monocle, pulling Joel's hair and riding his face/nose, slight PDA, a tiny easter egg if you find it, and one (1) sleepover. NO use of Y/N! Let me know if I've missed something!

authors note: Hi, I love you first off for keeping up with this and my life when it gets crazy and I dip for a little. Thank you for all the support on Code Red, it means the world to me. This can be read as a stand alone if you're unfamiliar with the series but it'll make more sense reading it in order || wc: 4K || notif blog so you don't miss a thing ||

“Why do you have to wear that shirt?” Joel asks as your front door swings open, his hand pushed against the door jam to prop him up. 

You giggle and look down at the bedazzled shirt that was tight enough to push your tits together nicely. It came as no surprise to you that Joel didn’t like the words printed on it and covered in rhinestones. ‘I Love Older Men’ twinkles in the sunlight as Joel swings open your front door, already taking your house key to lock the door behind you. 

“It’s not funny, you’re gonna draw attention to us.” He gripes, putting a hand on your hip behind you as you sit down. His attitude was already starting to get on your nerves but you refuse to let him ruin this, especially over a shirt. 

“Hey! Enough, it’s just a shirt. Is it really such a bad thing if people look at us?” You ask, dipping your head down to look at him. 

Joel meets your eyes and licks his lips while thinking about what to say. You cup his cheek and raise your eyebrows at him playfully. 

“No, I just-” He starts and you cover his mouth quickly to cut him off. Joel gets the hint and rolls his eyes at you before closing the door shut and getting in on his side of the truck. He starts the engine and puts his hand on the back of your headrest to back out of his driveway, open palm against the steering wheel turning it quickly. 

His cologne smells warm and spicy, with a tad of amber mixed in there which surprises you for someone like him, not seeming like he’d be into expensive cologne.  Absolutely captivating, the way he does everything so effortlessly and somehow makes you want to bury your face in his chest while he talks for hours and hours. Joel turns forward and starts the long drive ahead of you two. You were unsure where your date actually was, Joel wanted to keep it a surprise from the last time you spoke about it, which you didn’t mind in the slightest. 

Joel looks over a couple of times and leans his arm against the door while he steers the wheel. 

“You gonna stay over there the whole time or you wanna sit in the middle?” He asks, almost waiting for you to laugh and tell him no. You fight back a smirk and sigh dramatically before sliding over into the middle seat right next to him. 

“Better?”

“For now.” Joel responds and his tongue lingers over his bottom lip for a split second before disappearing into his mouth again. 

“Where are we going? Please don’t tell me you’re taking me to Home Depot…Joel are you taking us to Home Depot?” You half whine and look up at him with your hand resting on his knee. 

“Now why on earth would you think I'd take you there for our date? Give me a little more credit, would ya? Just sit back and enjoy the ride please?” His arm tightens around your shoulders and pulls you into him more. You giggle at his growing annoyance and put your sunglasses on as you rest your head back, looking out the window watching the telephone poles whiz by. 

One of the few times you ever felt this calm and relaxed was with Joel or when you’re alone. He makes it so easy to forget all of the stress and the issues constantly circling your brain about your dad, the future of not knowing, everything that bothers you. None of it ever seems that important when you’re with Joel. 

You two hum to the radio and talk here and there, mainly enjoying the comfortable silence you shared. He turns right and the sign for the aquarium starts to get closer. 

“You remembered the aquarium? Oh my god, Joel!” You exclaim and sit straight up to see the view better. Your excitement was too much for you to notice Joel taking glances at you with the biggest smile on your face. It was apparent to him you thought he forgot about the aquarium comment you made months ago. Little did you know he bought tickets as soon as you mentioned it that day. Even if you went just as the weird friend dynamic you briefly were, Joel still would’ve loved it no matter how much he would’ve pretended not to, no matter how much he wants to deny it.

He pulls into the parking lot and finds a parking spot a little far away from the doors but neither one of you mind. With your purse on your arm, you climb out of his truck and stand in front of it while you wait impatiently for him to get out. 

“You ready?” He asks, coming up right next to you. His finger hooks under your chin and brushes his thumb down softly as he gives you a smile. 

“Absolutely.” You respond back.

You two start towards the door, his arm brushing against you every time he gets close. Every time you feel his pinky touch your hand, you want to just reach out and hold his hand. Joel being the brooding older man, he’s not too big on PDA. You were the exact opposite. You wanted the whole entire town to know you were dating Joel Miller, you wanted to hold his hand while you wore your silly little shirt and have everyone stare at you both, like they could even begin to know the situation. 

When you get inside and turn in your tickets, Joel watches the glimmer in your eyes sparkle as you take in everything around you. The tanks full to the brim with fish and coral, touch tanks tucked back behind the glass and metal staircase leading upstairs, the glowing hallway leading to so much more, the gift shop you were definitely going to stop in before leaving. In awe at the artwork covering almost every inch of wallspace, you were mesmerized. Two children run in front of you and scream wildly as they chase each other, causing Joel to grab your hand instinctively and pull you out of the way before someone gets stepped on. 

You look down and his fingers interlock with yours and neither of you say a word or pull away. 

“Where to first, baby?”

-

Hours pass and your feet are starting to hurt but you’re having too much of a good time to admit to Joel he was right about your shoe choice being awful. It was absolutely worth the pain though, walking the entire aquarium to get the full experience. Joel didn’t complain once no matter how many times you got weird looks for your shirt. He’d walk up to the dolphin tank and put his on the glass, the same glimmer in your eye from when you arrived was the same one he had.  You two end up in front of the jellyfish tank  that went up to the ceiling with glass, blobs of pink and orange jellyfish floating up and down all over the tank. Joel takes a seat on the bench in front and leans his arms against his thighs as he watches closely. 

You sit next to him and rest your head on his shoulder, admiring the pink jellyfish at the very top that keeps sinking to the bottom just to go straight back up. 

“Did you have a fun time?” Joel asks.

You don’t answer right away to not seem eager. “Yeah, this was a lot of fun. Never a dull moment with you though.” You giggle quietly as you remember earlier when he made someone’s child cry because Joel apparently “took the stingray” the child was touching and it decided to swim to Joel’s hand you forced into the touch tank. You’ve never seen him move so fast until that moment.

Joel chuckles with you as he knows exactly what you’re thinking about. 

“I told you not to make me do it and you see what you did? You made someone's child cry, they’re never gonna come back here now.” Joel can’t finish his sentence because you both are laughing so hard and he leans his head on yours. 

There wasn’t that need to fill the silence with Joel. You could sit there with him for hours and not share a word and still be comfortable, that’s not something you come by everyday. 

“Well, you wanna stop in the gift shop before we go?” Joel questions as he picks his head up off yours. 

“Yeah! I wanna see what stupid thing I can convince you to buy me.” You jump up and step towards the tank a few times, turning around to look at Joel. 

He rises to his feet and walks towards you slowly, head cocked back slightly. The look he’s giving you makes your heart start to race and you can feel your cheeks getting warm with every step closer he gets to you. Somehow you managed to be the only two people in the jellyfish exhibit and you were thanking your lucky stars for this. 

“Convince me, huh? Convince me how, baby?” His mocking tone sets your body on fire and you suddenly can’t speak. 

Joel gets right in front of you and tucks his hand against your cheek, his long fingers brushing softly on the skin right below your ear. 

“You don’t have to convince me to do anything, sweetheart. I’d do anything you want.”  He kisses your lips gently.

“I’d buy you anything you want.” He kisses your jaw.

“I’d build you anything you want.” He kisses your neck softly. 

You would’ve fallen to your knees had he not pulled away and chuckled at you, seeing how pathetic he made you for him so fast. 

“Fuck off, Joel.” You try to play it off like you weren’t going to risk it all had he kept going. 

He takes your hand once more and walks with you to the gift shop, his hand hardly leaving your waist as you meander around the store.

Torn between the pack of pens with different aquatic animals on the top and a turtle shaped beanie, you asked Joel which one you should get. 

Joel turns around from the little container of pins he was looking at and takes a good glance at the options. 

“What about this?” He holds up the metal pin that has a starfish printed on the center, with big ugly yellow letters that say, ‘I’m a star!’. 

You blink once at him and turn back around to hide your laugh. 

“That’s so goddamn stupid, Joel. I’d hate to be called a starfish.” You put the hat back and just as you look up, you see it. The stupid thing you want Joel to get you. 

Yanking the clownfish plush off the shelf, you grin widely and turn back around to him and shake it in his face.

“This, this is it. Isn’t it the cutest thing you’ve ever seen?” You look back down at the stuffed animal, admiring all the details on it. Without missing a beat, Joel doesn’t look away from you and nods. “Yeah, it is.” 

-

On the drive home you stopped for food and ate in the parking lot while Joel gave you his typical old man history recap of all things Austin, Texas while you nodded like you were following the entire time. You caught most of it, but some stuff you were lost about and you didn’t have the heart to make him explain. Nodding and smiling usually did the trick.

Joel pulls into his driveway and stops right next to the little light pole on your side so you can see where you’re walking. Joel gets out after turning it off  and walks around the front of the truck to meet you halfway. With an arm stretched out towards you, he grabs it and holds it there for a moment. 

“Do you wanna maybe, um…see the new curtains I put up the other day?”

Your brows furrow and you can feel a laugh building up inside. 

“W-what? Are you inviting me in to look at your curtains?” You have to make sure you heard him correctly. This seems like Joel’s way of getting you inside but he won’t explicitly say it. He needs an innocent excuse to get you inside before he makes his move. 

He scratches the back of his head awkwardly and turns away causing his bicep to come into the light and grab your eyes. 

“Yeah, I am.” He refuses to elaborate or change his question to the truth, curtains is what he’s sticking with. 

“Well let’s go, Mr. Miller.” you reach up and pat his chest before heading towards his front door. 

“C’mon, you know I hate when you call me that.”

“I know, that’s why I love it.” 

He stands close enough behind you that you can feel his chest on your back while he unlocks the front door.

“Such a brat.”

The door swings wide open and you’re hit with the familiar smell that is Joel. The cologne with the faint scent of laundry detergent and somewhere a reed diffuser sitting neatly on a table. You take in all of the photos on the walls of him and Sarah, the home looking lived in and not empty. This is what you’ve been waiting on ever since you moved in. You wanted to see inside this house so badly. To see the room you’d constantly look down to when you couldn’t sleep and needed someone but he wasn’t awake. To see the room where you could hear every argument he had with Michelle over you. 

“Everything you thought it’d be in here?” Joel questions and walks from behind you to the stainless steel fridge in the next room over as you stand in the doorway of the living room. 

“It’s so cozy in here, I didn’t think it would be. Figured you’d have a lawn chair in here with a fold up table or something.” You joke and turn around with your arms crossed over your chest. 

Joel looks at you with a fake disappointed face and closes the fridge before grabbing the two beers off the counter he got out. 

“Don’t be a smartass, or I’ll have to fix that for you.” Joel states firmly, standing right next to you.”

With your breath caught in your throat, you take the beer from his hand hesitantly and think about whether or not you should say what you’re thinking. Fuck it though, right?

“Fix it how, Mr. Miller?” The playful tone in your voice makes Joel turn slowly towards you and sucks his teeth quickly before setting his beer down on the coffee table to the left of him. 

“What’d I say about calling me that. You just love to push my buttons don’t you? Gets you off knowing you’ve annoyed me for the day, huh?” 

You take another sip of your beer and smirk against the bottle. 

“Yeah, I do.” You answer confidently.

Joel’s strong arms wrap around you and tug you close against him which causes you both to grunt and he holds you there, his face inches away from yours. 

“And what if I told you every time you do that you make me wanna bend you over and have my way with you until you say you’re sorry?” 

There it is. 

You shutter a breath and meet his eyes which don’t seem so brown anymore. They’re dark with lust and it’s the one thing you’ve been wanting to see from him. 

“Doubt it, I don’t think you can break me.” 

Your lips ghost over his before they crash together and he groans in your mouth instantly as he picks you up for just a moment and walks you over to the dining room, setting you at the end of the table. You swing your legs as he steps back and admires how you look with the dim lighting around you. 

“You would want that, of course. Should’ve known you’re a dirty girl. Tell me how you want me, baby.” He leans in and holds the back of your neck as he trails kisses along your jaw and throat, trying to make you respond. 

The harsh but passionate kisses cloud your mind and you can’t answer fast enough. 

“Tell me pretty girl, tell me how I can make you feel so good and have you right where I want you.” 

God, you need him so badly. 

“I-I like it rough. Manhandle me but still make me feel wanted, like you can’t get enough of me.” 

Your answer coaxes out a groan from Joel and you can’t help but smirk. 

“Oh is that so? You want me to toss you around, maybe pin you down right here and give you that attitude adjustment I’ve been wanting to give you since I saw you on your dads porch?” Joel did one thing well, and it’s being condescending. 

He lays you down on the wooden table and pulls his hand out from the back of your neck and down the middle of your breasts slowly, all the way to the top of your pants. A scoff comes from his mouth and he tugs on the belt loop near your button. 

“‘I love older men’...so fuckin’ naughty. Have you ever been with one or are you just talkin’ a big game?” 

Joel undoes the button on your pants and wiggles his thick pointer finger inside the waistband of your panties, smoothing over your skin teasingly.

“N-no, I haven’t been with one yet.”

“Perfect. Now, take these off.” He yanks on your pants and stands still between your legs while you lift your hips up to shimmy them off. Halfway down your legs he grows impatient and shucks them off you, tossing them onto the floor. Joel kneels down and his face is dangerously close to your aching cunt. 

“Joel, please- I need you…I need you so damn bad.” You whine, grabbing at his hand that’s holding your waist. 

“You need me to what, baby? Use your words, I know you can do it.” He mocks. 

Colored embarrassed that he was wanting you to explicitly say you want him to eat your pussy was an understatement. You didn’t mind a challenge. 

“I want you to lick my pussy, Joel. I wanna feel your tongue on me and make me scream because you do it so well.” As soon as the words leave your lips, his tongue is licking at your wet panties. Tasting every bit of excitement he got from you until you whimper for him to do more. 

“You want me to show you what I can do, pretty girl?” 

Joel doesn’t wait for your answer and he grabs your hand, hooking your panties on your fingers to have you hold them to the side.

“Be a good girl and hold these for me, yeah?” 

You nod in response and close your eyes just in time for his warm tongue to flatten against your clit. His moans muffle against your folds as his hands grip your hips harder, pulling you close to his face as he laps at your soaking pussy. Quick and rough flicks from his tongue go against your clit and you can already feel your legs shake. Your back arches off the table and instantly your hand goes in his hair, gripping the salt and pepper little curls tightly. 

“Ohhh my-fucking god, Joellll!” You cry out and his right hand leaves your hip to the middle of your torso to pin you back down. 

“Stay still.” He commands and buries his face between your thighs, his beautiful nose bumping your 

clit. Your eyes begin to roll back into your skull and he groans louder the harder he licks at you, tasting every inch of skin he can get his mouth on. Joel rubs his thumb over your clit as he bites your thighs and follows with a soft slap to see how far he can push you. 

“Y-yes oh keep doing that, baby.” You whine and buck your hips to get more friction against his thumb. 

“So eager for me to make you come, darlin. God you’re gonna fuckin’ kill me.” Joel growls out and takes his thumb off you for a moment and your eyes shoot open to see where the release you were needing, had gone. He admires the glistening slick coating his skin and licks it clean before connecting his tongue with your clit once more. 

“Say yes and I’ll let you come, okay?” Joel groans between licks and looks you in the eyes. 

You sit up more to look at him with a confused look on your face. 

“Say yes to w-what?” 

“Come work for me at my shop. Be my receptionist so I can see you all the time. I can’t fucking be apart from you all day anymore.” His licks get more passionate and fast, consistent against your overworked clit and you feel the pressure starting to build in the pit of your stomach. 

“What? Y-you want me-fuccck-to work with you?” you barely whimper out as you begin to pant and grind against his face.

Why did he want to bring this up right now? Was he afraid you’d say no so he waited until he had you in the palm of his hand to ask? Jokes on him, you wouldn’t have turned that down at all, anything to see him more than you were now, and you’d be getting paid to fuck off all day with him?

“Say yes.” He grunts and keeps going, pushing you to the edge of your orgasm. 

Your eyes close and your head falls back, moaning with every lick and every move of your hips you make against him. 

“Yes yes yes yes yes okay I will.” You squeak out and you come on his face, riding his tongue as you end up spacing out from the euphoric high. Never has a man ever made your ears ring from coming, until tonight. 

Joel gives your pussy sensual kisses before he trails them up your stomach until he gets to your lips. You kiss him eagerly and taste yourself on his tongue, already wanting more. 

“So I’ll see you there, Monday morning at 10 a.m..” He chuckles and kisses you a few more times before standing straight up and admiring the work he did on you. 

All spread out on the dining room table wasn’t how you saw tonight ending, but you got so much from today. A great date and a job, and head? You were a winner today. 

He grabs your hand and helps you up slowly, adjusting your panties the way he found them. You smile at him and look around for your jeans, groaning at the thought of putting them back on. 

“Hold on, stay there.” Joel says and he disappears around the corner to another room. He comes back with a pair of basketball shorts and hands them to you. 

“Here, put these on, baby.”  

Fresh warm shorts from the dryer. What a fucking gentleman. You put them on and get a chill immediately from how warm they are. 

“Can we watch a movie before I go home maybe?” You ask, not ready to leave his house quite yet. Joel nods and sits on the couch and you follow suit, cuddling yourself into his side. He finds something to watch on a streaming service and kisses your forehead. 

“Don’t fall asleep now, I can’t carry you to your house.” He jokes and you elbow his side playfully. 

Soon the TV sound was getting quieter and quieter as your eyes got heavy, until you were completely passed out in Joel’s arms, with him dozing off himself. Trying to fight his sleep to stay awake, he only lasts about ten more minutes before he grabs a blanket from the chair, covering you both up to sleep. 

#code red #joel x reader #joel the last of us #joel smut #joel tlou #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #chaotic-mystery #the last of us #pedro pascal #joel miller x female reader #dbf!joel #dbf!joel miller #pedro pascal characters #joel miller fanfiction #enemies to lovers #slow burn #tw age gap #tw daddy issues #daddy joel #tlou fanfiction #joel miller tlou #tlou fic #no outbreak!joel miller #chaotic mystery

[mandos-mind-trick]

Kinktober Day 14 - Orgasm Denial

Summary: You don’t get to cum until you finish your lesson. 

Pairing: Tech x reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, orgasm denial, edging, teasing, sex toys, fingering, overstimulation, bondage (frog tie and box tie), BDSM, Dom/sub dynamics, made up technobabble for plot’s sake, aftercare, a little praise kink cause who am I without some praise kink. 

A/N: Flipping the script a bit here from day 1, but we also love some Dom!Tech in this house. We're very near the halfway point, how are we feeling? Surviving so far?

MASTERLIST

“If you connect wiring incorrectly to the hyperdrive, you run the risk of critical failure, or worse, an overload of the system which will end in a terminal explosion. If the wiring is laid incorrectly, the casing for the hyperdrive will fit incorrectly which could cause overheating and a failure of the system...” 

Your eyes roll back, legs squeezing together. Your hips rock against the vibrator situated between your legs, eagerly chasing your approaching orgasm. You’re so close, toes curling in pleasure, head thrown back. You’ve long since stopped listening to Tech, your only thoughts on finally getting a sweet release.

You let out a whine as the vibrator shuts off, hips still rocking as you desperately try to keep the pleasure coming. You turn your head to look at Tech, desperation written all over your face. 

“Please, Tech!” You almost sob, tugging at your restraints. 

You’re on your knees on the floor, your ankles tied to your thighs. You’re sore from kneeling in the position for a while, but you know that’s all part of the game. Your arms are bent at the elbows behind you, ropes tied above your breasts and below, keeping your arms pinned, and your wrists secured behind you. You’re not going anywhere, completely at his mercy. 

“You know the rules.” He says, adjusting his goggles. “Answer correctly, and I will turn it back on.” He holds up two wires. “Which wire connects to the hyperdrive directly?” 

You stare at the wires. They look almost the same except for the color coding on the tips. You wrack your brain, trying to pull up your previous lessons in your lust-addled brain. You’ve been over this before, even while you were clear-headed and not bound and being edged. 

“B-Blue.” You stutter out, legs squeezing together to keep any sort of friction, any sort of pleasure coming. 

He stares at you for a tense moment, your heart pounding in your chest. You’re not sure you could take it if you’re wrong and he makes you wait even longer to cum. “Correct.” He finally says, the vibrations starting on the lowest setting once more. 

You practically sigh with relief, your stomach tightening as pleasure ripples through your clit. Tech continues to talk about the hyperdrive, but you’re only half listening, the pulsing on your clit far more important than whatever he could be saying. You let out a breathy moan as your legs begin to shake, your orgasm quickly approaching after an hour of vibrations against your clit. 

The vibration disappears once more, and you let out a frustrated groan. You lift your gaze to Tech’s, his eyes narrowed and focused as he stares at you. 

“Are you even listening?” He asks. 

You gulp, a guilty look on your face. “I’m trying, but I need to cum so bad!” 

“You know the rules.” He says. “You cannot cum until you finish your lesson.” 

You let out a whine, tugging at your restraints. “Please, Tech!” You beg. “I need it so bad. I’ll be a good girl, I’ll listen!” 

“Prove it.” He says, leaving the vibrations off as he continues on about the hyperdrive.

You almost cry, the feeling of pleasure slowly fading away until you have nothing but the needy throbbing of your clit. Your knees are aching, thighs slick and soaked with your arousal. You listen to him speak, trying to distract yourself from the discomfort beginning to settle in, and the neediness still pulsing through your body. 

“What happens if you lay the wires wrong when reconnecting the hyperdrive?” He asks. 

“Hyperdrive casing won’t fit correctly.” You mumble, pulling the answer up from memory. 

“Good.” He says, the sudden return of the vibrations against your clit making you jump. 

You let out a sigh of relief, your pulsing clit finally getting some attention again. 

“And what happens if the casing doesn’t fit correctly?” He asks. 

You search your addled brain for the answer. You know it, he had just said it a while ago. He had been discussing reconnecting the hyperdrive, but you had been very lost in your rapidly approaching orgasm. Even now it’s getting hard to think with the pleasure clouding your mind once more. 

“...Risk overheating...” You mumble, lips parting with a gasp as you get closer and closer to the edge. “Critical system failure.” You practically moan, your hips rocking against the vibrator. 

The vibrations disappear again and you let out a sob, your whole body shaking from how close you were. You couldn’t possibly be wrong. You know those were the right answers. 

Tech gets up from where he had been seated on the floor, leaving the many wires and devices where they are. He stops behind you, and you hear the clank of plastoid as he kneels on the floor. His armor is cool as it presses against your back, his arm snaking around you and between your legs.

“You’ve made quite the mess.” He says, dragging his fingers through your folds. 

“Please, Tech.” You whine, pressing your hips into his hand. “Please, I need to cum so bad.” 

“You were a good girl.” He says, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. “I think you deserve to cum.” 

You do cry, tears of relief sliding down your cheeks as he ramps the vibrations up, his fingers slipping into your soaked pussy. His palm presses the vibrator harder against your clit, and the drag of his fingers against that spot inside you nearly has you blacking out as you cum with a cry, soaking his hand. 

He keeps going, fucking you with his fingers while holding the vibrator against your clit. He doesn’t let up any, your body shaking and burning with overstimulation. You squirm but you can do little against him, the reassurances being whispered in your ear nearly making you melt. 

Your second orgasm slams into you suddenly, your entire body writhing in his hold as you soak his fingers again. Your vision blacks out for a moment and when you come back to, you’re on your side on the floor, your legs free from their restraints. Your wrists are tugged free, dropping limply at your sides. Tech settles on the floor, scooping you into his lap. 

Your knees are red from kneeling on the metal floor, and you’ll need to stretch later but you feel satiated. Tech presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, gently easing the ache from your muscles and the places where the ropes had indented into your skin slightly. 

“Good girl.” He praises you. “Always such a good girl for me.” 

Ragu list:

@kaminocasey @rosechi @mxkyrie @bobaprint @star-trekker-0013 @padawancat97 @bamfahsoka @rain-on-kamino @thrawnspetgoose @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @wolffegirlsunite @dukeoftheblackstar @starrylothcat @sev-on-kamino @freesia-writes @anxiouspineapple99 @wings-and-beskar @dystopicjumpsuit @littlemissmanga @madameminor @eris-k @clio3kantarella @moonlightwarriorqueen @sleepingsun501 @originalcollectionartistry @maddiedrmr @idontgetanysleep @sinfulsalutations @clonemedickix @523rdrebel @deejadabbles @starqueensthings @multi-fan-dom-madness @wizardofrozz @mythical-illustrator @sunshinesdaydream @mooncommlink @lickylickylicky @sweetheartsnips @commanderblood @crosshairlovebot @ghostperson69 @captain_rexs_cyare @jediknightjana @jedi-hawkins @dalu-grantkylo

#star wars #star wars fic #the bad batch #the bad batch fic #tbb tech x reader #bad batch tech x reader #x reader #clone thirsting #kinktober 2023

[allmyocsarebritish]

stares at you with sad wet pathetic dog eyes

I've been dwelling on this for an oc but !! vox x reader where the reader is some sort of water creature/being and just 😈 ugh them being so gentle with each other but like little jokey threats from reader

unlikely lovers and just *screams into pillow* I love vox

- not Renée 🧡

Unlikely lovers

Vox X water based reader

Warnings(?): reader controls water, with demonic form of a siren, soft Vox, Vox overworking himself

Hi *not* Renée, I really really hope I did your idea justice, it was so fun to write and I love ittt!!

Electronics and water didn't mix. Exposure to liquids damaged appliances, sending them overloading in an electric surge and sparks flying. It was a well known fact, but, in accordance with the laws of attraction, opposite charges are always drawn towards eachother.

Vox should have been more careful, knowing that you were destined to destroy him. But he wasn't, and now here you were, corrupting his system and turning him soft. The audacity you had to just waltz in and short circuit his brain, (? Monitor?) permanently implanting yourself in his kingdom of bits and bytes was unmatched. And the worst part was how much he enjoyed it.

For as long as Vox could remember, his status, image and reputation had undeniably been the forefront of his life, though it had become clear that you were toppling this. And, though he remained in denial about how extreme his affection was for you, it was clear to everyone who knew him. The other Vees, his workers, yourself, even if sometimes you did feel second best.

Vox was rather obsessive, allowing work to consume all of his waking hours, and though you knew that wasn't something you could change, you remained present throughout his long days.

Despite the long hours that had passed, Vox still showed no signs of putting his paperwork to the side. Your patience began to wear thin as he picked up yet another 'essential' phone call, and you became rather restless. As impressive as the corporate empire he had built himself was, the business was taking its toll, turning Vox into the living embodiment of stress. It was more than concerning, and as much as he tried to convince you he was not working too hard, you knew he had limits.

The sound of the phone call ending roused you from your thoughts, and you watched as his charismatic business persona began to crack.

"When are you going to take a break?" You complained from a chair in the back of his office.

"Just a second, dollface. I'm nearly done, I promise." Vox responded, not even sparing you a glance away from his excessive amount of screens.

"You were 'nearly done' over an hour ago." you rolled your eyes, slumping in your chair, staring at the back of his TV."Vox, I swear if you don't pay attention to me I *will* waterboard you."

You perked up at the realisation that your (mostly) empty threat caught his curiosity. He spun around to face you in his swivel chair, eyes narrowing slightly.

"You wouldn't." He spoke rather quietly, tone accusatory.

A mischievous smirk played on your lips as you sat up straighter, raising an eyebrow. Taking great care as to *not* splash your techy boyfriend, water droplets flung across the room from your fingertips, dampening the floor.

"Want to bet?"

Vox sighed and shook his head, getting up slowly and making his way over to you, barely suppressing the smile that made its way across his screen. You offered him your own, opening your arms for him to sink into. As soon as he complied, Vox felt the stress of the day begin to ebb and fade, melted by your anchoring presence. And though he was much too stubborn and prideful to admit it, your determination in forcing him to take breaks from his overpowering workload was comforting and much needed.

"Was that so hard?" You teased, hand gently drawing circles over Vox's arm. He rolled his eyes, though his soft smile betrayed the sarcastic act.

"Yes, unbearably." He rested his TV on your shoulder, feigning exhaustion from the effort of stepping away. You snorted a laugh and he brightened, allowing you to rest against him. You playfully, and gently, flicked his antenna, watching as it bounced back and forth before stilling. He gave you a look, taking your hand in his own, softly caressing it with clawed fingers, before raising your knuckles to his screen and pressing a kiss to them.

"What a gentleman." You joked, to which he shook his head, still smiling.

"Anything for you, sweetheart." He responded, sarcasm dripping from his voice to mask the genuine statement.

"Don't get soft."

"Wouldn't dream of it, darling."

Who would have guessed that the technology overlord could be so smitten for a water demon? It was inevitable that you would be his weakness, though what was unforseen was the fact it was in the best way imaginable. The other overlords may see his infatuation with you as a downfall and a failure on Vox's behalf, it was his strongest quality. You gave him a tolerance to water, hence the electronic sharks residing in his mansion. As unlikely as your love was, you were utterly enthralled with eachother.

Around you Vox held no real weakness, you were his strength, his partner, and all that really mattered in his afterlife.

#hazbin hotel vox #vox x reader #vox #hazbin vox #vox the tv demon #voxtekoverlord #voxtech #hazbin fandom #hazbin fanfic #hazbin hotel #vox x you

[ikkosu]

Human liaison accidentally walking in on Prowl self-servicing with their shirt, as he kneels on their bed. 🫡just a thought for you

compy❤️❤️!!

this is more than just a thought. this is a whole meal I'm about to slobber on like a pathetic pup ehehehejjje😈😈😈

Prowl thinks he's SOOOOO slick (no pun intended) going through your schedule. asking about your next meeting, so that everytime you're out with a debrief, he goes to your room and holds onto the last convo you both had and wanks off to it.

Or, should I say, angrily wanking off because he's in denial 😔. Brother is full on scowling and gritting is teeth. And the shirt he's clutching wrapped around his spike) drags from the bottom shaft up to the weeping tip.

He's hunched over his shoulders, one servo jerking off while the other bunches up the sheets, tightening in tandem of his overloads.

He's so engrossed with tearing out another load he doesn't notice the slight crack of the light beaming through the open door, and when it does open all the way, the sudden excruciating almost flabbergasted halt in their footsteps prompts him to swivel around, now facing you (still, of course, fisting his spike)

And you're not sure if it's considered a blessed sight of him with his thighs parted, eyes narrowed with focus, and his servos pumping up the rod, that's very much bricked.

He's still got that scowl and the only sign he's surprised at your sudden entry is a cocked brow and another harden of his limp spike when he sees your wide eyes and pretty lips parting.

"Like what you see, pipsqueak?" He breathes out with a breathy groan and the rise and fall of his abdomen is a tell-take sign of a other overload coming.

"I...." You're still there. Roosted on the spot, stunned at the sight of your superior, commander in chief , second to Optimus wanking it off on your bed with your shirt around his robot cock.

When hot spurts of purple bead around his finger tip, followed by a shudder, prowl seethes through his teeth.

"Come here."

#AWOOGA #i love it when mechs have a beat off against their logical and pathetic side #LOSING MY MIND WOOOPEEE #mootsies #transformers #maccadam #transformers x reader #transformers idw #idw prowl #prowl x reader

[veryconnoisseurcherryblossom]

Edging

Summary: You've been teasing Rodimus for 2 hours now, he deserves some release.

Pairing: Rodimus/Reader

Fandom: IDW Transformers

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: No warnings

Tags: Edging, Overload Denial, Light BDSM Themes, Rodimus goes into Subspace

"B-babe, please, l-let me- please-"

Rodimus begged. He wasn't quite sobbing, but the fluid in his optics let you know that you needed to wrap up the scene soon. You hummed with false sincerity, carefully moving your hips around and causing Rodimus's vents to shudder, the tip of his spike grinding against the entrance of your valve.

"Alright, you've been a good boy- 10 seconds. Go."

The chronometer was set, and Rodimus immediately slammed his hips against yours, frantically thrusting into you with desperation. Biting your lip to keep you moans at bay, you silently counted down, each thrust hitting you right in the ceiling node with a delicious slap. Until...

"Time's up, Roddy."

The whine, Primus, the whine Rodimus emitted as he quickly stopped halfway thrusting was so satisfying. He looked at you with wide, wet, pleading optics. His voice was heavy with static as he began to beg.

"Please, pl-please, just- just 5 more seconds, I'm so-"

"You know the rules. Pull out, tip only."

This time, Rodimus did sob as he slowly, tortuously pulled out till only the tip remained inside. He shuttered his optics close, coolant tears now freely falling. You could smell the faint wisp of smoke that was beginning to emanate from his engine, a clear sign that Rodimus had been played with enough.

“You’re such a good boy, Roddy. Aren’t you?”

“Y-yes, yes, I-I am, I just-”

“And I think you deserve to be… rewarded for your behaviour.”

The near puppy dog pleading optics Rodimus gave you could shatter the strongest of wills, not helping the big, fat tears sliding down his cheek plates. It had taken you two hours to get to this point, a new record.

“Go on, then. Go.”

If not giving him a time limit hadn’t clued him in, you wrapping your legs around his hips told him something clear- he was allowed to finally, finally overload. His face broke into an excited smile, his bright blue optics shining brilliantly.

He clung onto you, holding you close as he cried for joy. Each thrust was short and quick, he didn’t want to draw this out any longer. He had one, singular goal in his processor- overload. Each thrust was accompanied with a metallic clang and wet slapping noise that echoed around the room. You were most definitely going to have to buff out some lovely paint transfers.

“F-fuck! Oh fuck, you feel so good!”

Rodimus groaned out, almost deliriously. His exhaust pipes on his arms were beginning to splutter more smoke, loud revving noises coming from his engine. Your calipers clenched tightly on his spike, drawing out a loud, throaty shout.

“Fuck!”

With a final cry, Rodimus slammed his hips against yours, flames bursting from his exhaust pipes. A whimper leaving his lips as warmth bloomed into your gestational tank. Rodimus all but collapsed on top of you, exventing deeply. Tears streaked down his faceplate, his optics looked dazed, far off. In subspace.

“You were such a good boy, Roddy- so splendid, you did so well.”

You softly cooed into his audials, bringing your servo to his face to gently wipe his tears away. After a scene or any extreme interface session really, Rodimus’ aftercare involved a lot of gentle affirmation, telling him he did wonderful. He nodded, a small smile tugging at his lip. His voice was filled with static again, but softer.

“Y-yeah?”

“You were so good.”

Leaning in, you gave him a kiss on his opticbrow. He looked at you with a distant look, his processor would be barely running and it’d be hard for him to think, to vocalise his thoughts. You knew from experience. His optic brow furrowed, his smile dipping into a small frown.

“You- you didn’t-”

Smiling, you cupped his cheek with your servo gently to stop him from finishing. He blinked, staring at you with dazed optics.

“It’s fine. I wanted to get you off. This was all about you.”

You spoke with a soft voice, comforting, easing his worries. Kissing his cheek softly, you pulled away, gasping at the feeling of Rodimus’ spike being pulled out of you and blushing as his transfluid slowly seeped out.

“Let me look after you, Roddy. You deserve it.”

#transformers fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #transformers valveplug fanfic #valveplug #rodimus/reader #rodimusxreader #rodimus x reader #writing

[valve3nthusiast]

I think I might just like imagining my faves with spike in their mouth

Rodimus "adhd" Prime with an oral fixation, having fun dicksucking because the texture of all the ridges and nodes are great to run his tongue over, and the heavy weight in his mouth just feels good

He does kinda lose track of time, though... he has a habit of mercilessly edging whoever's spike he's sucking for hours

Funny if he does this completely on accident... he's got a reputation for having the hottest mouth on the whole ship but he has no clue, he just thinks people are indulging him. Mechs will clear their schedule for a day of getting their soul sucked out through their spike, and he's just like, oh its your off shift? cool :D (clueless)

And of course he's definitely gotten around... Drift loves his mouth and even convinced Ratchet to give him a try... He talked both Magnus and Megatron into letting him "keep himself occupied" while they did paperwork, but funnily enough, nothing actually got done... He's spent a couple kink nights at Swerve's with his mouth and valve equally stuffed for the whole night... Honestly, he could probably identify most of his crew by taste and texture of their spike alone

Hmm. Wait. Editing this addendum: The crew keeps it from him on purpose because he would be absolutely insufferable if he knew he gave the best blowjobs on the Lost Light

#valveplug #mine #rodimus #overload denial #ish #spikewarming #also ish

[archie-sunshine]

Survey Says-! (18+ Rodimus/EVERYONE)

Chapter 1: Violations, Schmiolations!

Rodimus is NOT bitter about the results of the crew satisfaction survey, in fact, he’s fully prepared to change! He’s determined to change his crew’s minds, and what better way to do so than to get to know them- in the carnal sense that is. 

There are no problems with this plan in Rodimus’s mind. There are many in Ultra Magnus’s. Magnus engages in some unfortunate(for Rodimus) damage control as head of Cybertronian Resources. Rodimus is not easily deterred. 

Read on AO3 here! Chapter 1.5(NON CANON!) here! Chapter 2 here! Chapter 3 here! Chapter 4 here! Chapter 5 here! Chapter 6 here!

____________________________

FIC TAGS: Rodimus/Everyone(But y’know, not like. EVERYONE. Just a lot of various background characters and also more specifically with some others), Takes place post dark cybertron, but pre the whole ship disappearing thing and the mutiny, smut, Chastity, denial, Rodimus is a slut, Ongoing humiliation, HR Violations as comedy, Ultra Magnus is clueless, sticky sexual interfacing, comedy, sexual comedy, dubious consent (if you squint and tilt your head), contains illustrations

____________________________

Authors notes: This is the fic concept i was talking about in THIS tumblr post, if you're curious to see more of my thought process. This is all very deliberately silly, so try not to take things too seriously, nobody's getting hurt here, this is all for giggles

CHAPTER TAGS: Rodimus/Dipstick, briefly mentioned Rodimus/Hound, Trailcutter, Sprocket, and Pointblank, Ultra Magnus is obtuse but not stupid, Chastity, humiliation, Rodimus being Rodimus

“Ohh, yeah, just like that-” Rodimus sighed out, letting his helm roll back as he ran his digits over his spike. Dipstick wasn’t exactly his finest lay, but he did just fine where it counted. 

And anyway, it wasn’t about what Rodimus wanted, this was all part of a noble and courageous cause, of course. 

Rodimus let out a shaky moan as Dipstick mouthed along his chassis. An arc of charge shivered up his spinal strut at the feeling of his spike, heavy and thick, inside his valve. He could feel the bot start to lose rhythm, so Rodimus wrapped his legs a bit tighter around his hips and let out a long, pleased moan in Dipstick’s audial. He smirked to himself as the mech bowed forwards with a loud grunt. He sped up the servo on his spike as he chased his own edge.

The hot splashes of transfluid against his inner walls certainly helped. Rodimus offlined his optics as he stroked himself into a perfectly acceptable overload, enjoying the feeling of Dipstick’s fans gusting hot air across his front. 

He allowed himself a moment of afterglow, which was quickly interrupted by a ping in his processor. Rodimus scanned it quickly. Oh slag. The speedster wriggled his way out from under Dipstick, who sluggishly pulled back after noting the captain’s attempt to escape. 

“Something wrong-?” He began.

“Oh no, nothin at all bud, no worries!” Rodimus said quickly. “I’ve just gotta jet, had so much fun I forgot the time.” He chuckled, swiping at his array with a rag before closing his panels. “Thanks for letting me get to know you better!”

Dipstick nodded slowly, a bit of flush in his cheeks. “Uh- yeah, captain, no worries…” 

Rodimus gave him another winning smile, offering a characteristic thumbs up before trotting out of the door to his hab suite with a spring in his step. 

He was such a genius. 

His ego had taken quite a few dings in recent times, what with his series of captainly ‘whoopsies’, being demoted to ‘co-captain’, having to work with fragging MEGATRON, and of course… the whole list incident. But Rodimus wasn’t stuck in his ways, in fact, he was prepared to help every one of his crew see that he could change. 

By letting them know that he was completely at their disposal. 

Wink.

He knew after his conversation with Ratchet that he wasn’t going to let the whole thing get him down, not over a faked survey list anyway. There was no point in taking his frustration out if he wasn’t learning something from the situation, so it was only logical that he take the time to listen to each and every member of his crew. So what if he didn’t know who wanted him off the ship? That wouldn’t matter as long as he was thorough in setting up his meetings.

The fact that most of his one on ones so far had ended with an overload was a coincidence, and not at all planned. As humble as Rodimus was, he also knew how hard it was for most bots to resist a sleek frame like his. 

He felt a bit of pride bloom in his chassis, and perhaps elsewhere, as he recalled some of the past 15 ‘meetings’. 

Hound was definitely a highlight. Rodimus didn’t exactly have a type, but he did enjoy the bulkiness of his frame against his, and certainly enjoyed that thick spike hitting just the right spot… 

And Trailcutter of course,  much sweeter than he’d thought, a very kind lover, but got a bit weepy when Rodimus had told him he was doing well. 

Sprocket had opted for a quick blowjob, as Rodimus had caught him at a bit of a bad time, but he certainly made his enjoyments clear, nearly getting them caught when someone had passed by the supply closet they had tucked themselves into. 

Pointblank had taken Rodimus’s spike well, enjoying the roughness that he’d treated him to, but making a mess on Rodimus’s office floor when he finished. 

Rodimus whistled jovially as he bounced around the corner and his second in command’s office came into sight. He wasn’t going to be too terribly late for his meeting with Ultra Magnus, either, which was likely a surprise to both of them. Rodimus grinned to himself. Everything was coming up Roddy! 

“Captain.” Ultra Magnus said stiffly as Rodimus stepped into the room. 

“Maaaagggss! To what do I owe the pleasure?” Rodimus plopped down in the seat on the opposite side of his desk, propping his pedes up on the edge of it, kicking Magnus’s nameplate out of place. Ultra Magnus’s optic flickered with irritation as he reached over the desk and knocked Rodimus’s legs off of it. 

“I’d like to have a discussion regarding your current extracurricular escapades.” He said, picking up his datapad with one servo while his other adjusted his nameplate back to equilibrium. 

Rodimus’s faceplate blanched. “Aaahh, what do you mean?” asked the captain innocently. 

“You’ve been interfacing startlingly regularly with several of your subordinates.” Magnus retorted flatly. “Which qualifies as a breach of several ordinances and rules surrounding proper captainly conduct.” He turned his optics from the datapad to lock with Rodimus’. “Which you should be well aware of… as you have surely read through the important manuals and documents I sent you before we began this journey.”

“Pff- Yeah! Of course! You recite the first bit of that code, I'll be able to finish it for sure!” Rodimus lied, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. Primus, he should have cleaned his valve out more, he could feel Dipstick’s transfluid rolling around in there. It’d get absorbed by the nanites in there soon enough, but for now, it was an uncomfortable reminder while he wriggled under Ultra Magnus’s glare. 

“Section 45, subheading 8- On the subject of intimate relations amongst superior officers and subordinates.” Ultra Magnus prompted. 

Rodimus shifted again, sitting up straighter and squeezing his legs together. “Uhh, gimme just a skosh more?” 

The larger bot let out a disappointed sigh. “Should a superior officer find himself entangled romantically or sexually with a subordinate crew member, the relationship must be made clear to a ship’s Cybertronian Resources officer, and cleared before a council of the captains and subordinate’s peers to assure there is no power imbalance present. Failure to comply is grounds for demotion on the part of the captain, Rodimus.” Ultra Magnus said gravely. 

“Oh- Well I don’t know what gave you the idea I was doing such a thing, but I’m not, so we don’t have to worry about it-” Rodimus began, adjusting himself again in his chair in preparation to leave. 

“Rodimus, I’m not stupid, I have it on good authority that you are engaging with our crew inappropriately.” Ultra Magnus drawled, clearly growing frustrated with repeating himself.

“Wha- Who told!” Rodimus blurted out, quickly resetting his vocalizer. “W-who lied I mean, we should be sure to meet with whoever is spreading rumours like this-”

“Rodimus I’ve heard you interfacing in two supply closets, seen the transfluid you failed to wipe off your office floor, and watched you walk down the hall to your hab unit leaving a convenient trail of fluids directly from Powerflash’s suite.” -

Rodimus’s intake snapped shut, face flaring a bit with embarrassment. It wasn’t as if Rodimus had any shame about his habits- er, gracious and noble quest for forgiveness- it was just that Ultra Magnus was the last one he wanted to find out about them. “... Yeah…” He muttered defeatedly, slumping back down in his seat. “... So what, am I getting demoted? Is Megatron taking up his rightful place as the true captain? I hope he enjoys sitting in my seat.” Rodimus pouted petulantly. 

Ultra Magnus disregarded his grumbling, reaching for a drawer in his desk. “On the contrary, I am going to give you another chance to reconsider your actions.” He stood, tucking something he had grabbed behind his back, and walking around the desk towards him. “Your actions, while unprofessional and incredibly juvenile, do betray a want to rectify some of your past mistakes, which…” Ultra Magnus’s frown softened a bit, begrudgingly allowing a modicum of admission into his tone. “Is a step in the right direction.”

Rodimus’s vents hitched, his optic ridges raising as he sized up his SIC. “Oh- Mags- was this your way of flirting with me?” Rodimus laughed. “Aw, maggy, you didn’t need to do all this, really, just invite me out for drinks some-” The captain’s flirting was cut off when Ultra Magnus reached a servo down to effortlessly knock Rodimus’s legs apart. 

“I am not flirting, captain.” He said flatly, all softness melted out of his expression. 

Rodimus stared up at him. He could feel his frame starting to heat with quickly tamped down arousal at the way the bigger bot loomed over him. 

“I am going to keep you accountable, and in doing so,” Ultra Magnus brought the device he had picked out of his drawer around to his front, Rodimus had never seen something like it before. It was painted bright yellow with black caution stripes, all extendable bars and geometry like it was supposed to hook onto something. “I will make sure that your behaviour ceases this instant.” 

“Oh Mags- whatever could you me-” Rodimus began to croon, cut off by sudden sensation as Ultra Magnus’s hands lifted up his hips off the chair. “H-Hey-! Listen Mags- I like em forward but this is a little-” 

Rodimus was silenced as Ultra Magnus unceremoniously clamped the device tight around his panels, pressing his thumb hard into a top latch to fasten the locks in place with a low magnetic zap. 

Rodimus looked down, dumbfounded, at his own panels, now securely fastened shut. “Did you… just put a car boot… on my panels?” He said, slowly turning his helm up to look at Ultra Magnus.

The bigger bot nodded proudly, folding his arms over his chassis. “I felt this was the only way to keep you from continuing to breach protocol.” 

“WHAT THE FRAG IS WRONG WITH YOU!!” Rodimus howled, kicking Ultra Magnus’s leg and succeeding only in pushing his chair back a ways. He immediately began to claw at the boot on his panels and was horrified to find it well and truly stuck there. 

“Under chapter 79, section 31-A of the crew relations act, the third subsection suggests possible fixes for inappropriate interfacing behaviour, such as-” 

“AS MAGNETIZING MY ARRAY CLOSED??! You’re sick!!” Rodimus wailed, still ineffectually pushing at the bars and beams fastened to his junk. “This- THIS has to count as cruel and unusual punishment!!” 

“It doesn’t. I’ve checked. And it isn’t permanent either, and yes I did consult Ratchet before proceeding to ensure there would be no adverse effects to your gynecological health.” Ultra Magnus went over his points, walking back around the desk and sitting back down. “I am giving you a decacycle of this punishment, we will check in at the halfway point, and you will have a chance to plead your innocence at that time-”

“A DECACYCLE!!??” Rodimus cried, popping up on his pedes and slamming his servos on the desk. “You- You can’t be serious!! This is humiliating, everyone is going to see-”

“See that you are taking steps towards being less of a sexual pest and more of a professional and honest leader?” Ultra Magnus raised a brow ridge. Rodimus searched in his optics for some sign that he really didn’t believe what he was saying.

“You can’t be that obtuse.” Rodimus growled. THERE! There! Ultra Magnus’s optics flicked away with an uncharacteristic glint. 

“Consider any unpleasant feelings as motivation to reconsider your previous leadership choices, captain.” Ultra Magnus said blithely, going back to scanning his datapads. “You are free to go, sir.” 

“I hate you.” Rodimus spat, indignantly swatting Magnus’s name plate off his desk before spinning on his heel and storming out of his office.

#valveplug #transformers #mtmte #transformers mtmte #maccadam #lost light #rodimus #/nsfw #my fic #my art #smut #transformers smut #rodimus/everyone

[akutasoda]

chuuya nakahara

»multi

- don't say anything else just stay

- monsters of the past

- not my speciality

- is this my happy ending

- have it your way

- don't let me go

- calm before the storm

- blank memories

- i still feel alive

- a wish in a bottle

- false alarm!

- to the ends of time

- aren't you a tease?

- lessons in friendly rivalry

- the decisive scales tip in your favour

- double edged swords

- memories to last a lifetime

- 'what if i was a worm?'

- love that can light up a stage

- hidden loving

- icey love

- to the ends of time

- i can stay, if you want?

- stylish overload

- you'd never leave, would you?

- looks can be decieving

- you make everything precious

- homely forever

- a curse from the past

- teasing banter

- home safe

- you make everything special

- new furry companions

- eyes are windows to the soul part 2

- im glad you were strong

- harmonious bond

- frostbitten kisses

- heights of love

- lovers abroad

- loving heights

- mother knows best

- slothful companion

- a jealous friendship

- new families

- stirring the pot of love

- wine and wisdom

»fics

- pain is not easy to endure

»headcannons and drabbles

- the wall between us

- dancing with the devil

- karma's a pain isn't it?

- catch me if you can

- friendship in denial

- friendly competition + ranpo

- i love every part of you, even if you don't

- looking out for you

- please don't go

- far off lovers

#↳masterlists ↴ #✩↪「q rambles」 #x reader #x gender neutral reader #bsd x reader #bsd x gender neutral reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs x you #bsd x you #bsd chuuya #chuuya x fem!reader #chuuya x reader #chuuya x you

[quinloki]

Hello(●’◡’●)ﾉ

I wanted to see if you could write for killer Mihawk crocodile and Rob Lucci in your kink series-

on brat taming/soft dom bdsm/ddlg/teasing (orgasm denial) and overstimulation ^^

ig you already did some of them so just skip, and feel free to ignore if you're not ok w it!

I love these kinky stuff you write, you're doing great, have a nice day! Mwahh<3

... I am not 100% sure what you're asking for ^^; But I'm going to do my best to untangle this a bit.

Let's see - Killer, Mihawk, Crocodile, and Robl Lucci - With a limit of three, I'll go with Mihawk, Lucci and hm... Crocodile. We've got a bit of a Mobster vibe going on, so we'll go with the three most likely to wear a suit.

I treat kinks separately, so there's six there, because I'm assuming you're asking for teasing in a specifically orgasm denial sort of way.

Alright! So we'll go with Brat Taming, Overstimulation, and Orgasm Denial. I'll do my best to season it with some of the other things you mentioned, but that'll be our focus for this one. ^_^

Let's go ... Lucci, Mihawk, Crocodile.

Rob Lucci:

Brat Taming - Yes - This would rate a little bit higher if he didn't have the devil fruit that he does have. As a predator/hunter style Zoan, he's not interested in your resistance. You're the prey, his domination over you is a matter of nature - you will submit, and even more than that, you should submit. Being a brat is foolish.

But there is an enjoyment for him in it. The struggle is its own kind of chase, its own kind of hunt, and he can take on a role that is softer that being a beast. On the days where his patience is thin however, your resistance will be short.

Overstimulation - FUCK Yes - The way you lose control of your limbs, the tears and garbled begging. The way your eyes roll into the back of your head and how incredibly still you are with exhaustion afterward. The way your blood pounds under your skin certainly adds to it as well. Sometimes there's no release for you, and sometimes there is - the point is how you twitch and writhe and moan at the overload of tactile inputs. From pleasure to pain, and the breaths in between.

Orgasm Denial - Oh god you don't even know - You better have an A-game for begging with this man. You're going to plead, beg, cry, and bargain before he's had his fill. And if he's doing this to you because you've been a brat? Then you have a lot more to atone for than simply earning release, don't you?

And he'll be so close for it. Listening intently to your broken words, breath against your neck, voice sinking into your ear, teeth so very close to your tear-stained neck. It's hard to say if that was a pleased purr or a frustrated growl, and if it was a growl you've got a long night ahead of you.

Dracule Mihawk:

Brat Taming - FUCK Yes - I've actually touched on Mihawk and daddy dom vibes before, but he really enjoys brat taming. His enjoyment from it is has more to do with how fast he can cause you to cave than anything else. Sometimes he'll let you think you're getting away with things just to give you enough rope to trip yourself up with it. Sometimes he'll have you melting in his hands before you can even get the first snarky word or action completed.

His body against yours, soft but firm voice praising you for being good before you've even gotten a chance to be bad. Words that assure you, you won't be anything but obedient.

Overstimulation - Yes - Mihawk's the kind of person who would strap you down on something (probably spread eagle on the bed, honestly) and fill you up/cover you with vibrators, cover your eyes, and then leave you. The only indication that he was actually nearby would be how the vibrators all settle down just as you're getting close, or the sharp sting of a crop while all the settings are turned up.

If it wasn't for those things, you'd be convinced he was just sitting there with a glass of wine, watching you the entire time.

And... he does that too. But he's far more active in things that it seems to your addled brain.

Orgasm Denial - Sure - if it's a part of his Overstimulation, he'll be more into it. But Orgasm Denial by itself doesn't do much for him. There's control within it, to be sure, but Mihawk prefers to hear you sing in pleasure, not frustration. He might drag things out from time to time when you're being a brat, but he's not going to leave you hanging for too long. It's part of why he doesn't let you act like a brat for very long most of the time.

Now, the flip side of this kink is another matter entirely >.>

Sir Crocodile:

Brat Taming - FUCK Yes - Sir Crocodile prefers to be in control, and preference aside, he is in control. If you want to test that, he'll let you, he'll enjoy every moment of your attempts to do so. Not only is it hot to break your will and then mark you and make you his completely, but there's never a doubt in his mind that he'll put you in your place.

He could, like Mihawk, have you shattered in his hands before you even get started, but Sir Crocodile enjoys watching you try. Because there's always that moment, that first crack or slip, and you look so beautiful torn between wanting to continue being bratty, and wanting to cave in.

Overstimulation - Oh god you don't even know - Crocodile revels in being in control. Taking senses from you, stimulating the ones left, or simply flooding you with sensory inputs. He's very flexible with this kink, and will intently listen to you - before and after a session. Did you like what you thought you would, what else would you like to try? It's not just pushing and pulling pleasure from you, but it's also putting you on edge for so long that

one soft caress and you're a complete mess in his hands.

Orgasm Denial - How Crocodile vibes this is a Sure, but how "good" he is at has much more passion to it. He won't seem to have much of an opinion one way or another, but if you put him in a mood he'll be denying your orgasms for days. Especially if you've irritated him in some way. You cannot beg this man into giving you relief, and if you try to find it on your own you might find yourself immobile or monitored for long stretches of time until he decides you get relief.

(A quietly adorable thing you may notice with time is that if you don't finish neither does he. >.> Take that as you please. )

#kinky one piece head canon #Dracule Mihawk #Sir Crocodile #Rob Lucci #x reader #Lucci x reader #mihawk x reader #sir crocodile x reader

[klonnieshippersclub]

Love Awaits

Happy New Year! This is my post for Day 3. Yes, I know it's a bit late and I'm very sorry for that. It's also not set in 1910 but in Marcel's youth. We have a bit of a "found family" coming together in this AU. This is a little longer than usual to make up for the delay.

Randall was her responsibility. It was only a few years ago he was kicked out of their home. Randall was a Bennett and the Bennetts valued family but Randall was a boy and he didn't quite fit. Bonnie took on the responsibility of caring for him and abandoned the only home she knew. He was only a small child, but their bastard father saw Randall as useless. It was early in the year when they had lost their mother from magical overload in defeating a pack of rogue wolves that were terrorizing a nearby town.  Grief turned their father cruel. Bonnie and Randall left their small town Louisiana for the city. She was essentially a single mother at just fifteen with a five year old to take care of. It was hard but they made it work.

Years passed and they were happy. All they had was each other but that was enough. Randall even referred to Bonnie as his mother. At the age of 10, Randall found a slightly older boy unconscious by a pond. With his magic, he was able to send a message to his older sister. Luckily, she was not too far away and could provide medical aid to the unnamed boy with the knowledge she had from working as a nurse. Upon waking, the boy introduced himself as Marcel. Despite Marcel's insistence that he could walk home on the other side of the city, Bonnie and Randall brought him to their small home.

Hours passed and the boys lost time playing games (nothing too strenuous in consideration for Marcel's condition). Bonnie was making dinner when a belligerent knocking started at their door. When seeing the vampire snarling at her, Bonnie immediately sent him an aneurysm with her powers. She only stopped at Marcel crying out that this was his father. A vampire daddy was unheard of, but Bonnie believed the boy. With Marcel explaining the situation to his father (he was jumped by a rival to his father), the tension in the room disappeared. Bonnie made the sudden decision to invite the vampire inside if he provided his name. Klaus Mikaelson. From this point on, the families were close and the boys were basically inseparable.

It was a summer morning months later when Marcel dragged his father to the Bennett home. Klaus entered ready to greet Bonnie and Randall ran by with only one shoe to play outside with Marcel. Klaus called out to him, “Randall, get back here. You can't run off without your other shoe.”

The boy ran back inside the house to retrieve the shoe with Marcel following him. “I've been looking for it everywhere,” Randall said. Thanks, Pa.”

Bonnie appeared from the kitchen hearing their exchange with her hands on her hips. She voiced her confusion towards Randall. “Pa? He's not your father.”

“But Marcel said-”

“Shhhh,” interrupted Marcel while glaring at the younger boy.

Klaus raised a brow at his son and asked, “Marcellus, what did you tell him?”

“I only said it would be nice if we were a family.”

Randall continued, “And he said that mothers and fathers belong together.”

“Quiet!”

Bonnie could sense one of their childish arguments brewing. The arguments were never over anything serious but they tended to work out their problems physically and she didn't want them wrestling in the house. The last time they did so, they broke a vase of flowers. “Boys, we aren't together,” the Bennett witch remarked.

Marcel rolled his eyes at Bonnie's denial. “Are you sure?” he asked.

“Of course.”

“Then why is Pa so nice to you when he's mean to all the other ladies in covens?” Randall wondered aloud.

“He's not your Pa, Randall,” corrected his older sister/maternal figure.

Klaus and Bonnie were close but it wasn’t a relationship. “I respect Bonnie more than the arrogant witches of the city,” the Original justified.

Marcel joined in the questioning, “if you aren't together, why do you two always spend time together?”

Bonnie was surprised by the sudden interrogation and felt a bit defensive. The boys were together like glue. It shouldn't be so shocking that their guardians knew each other well. “We don't spend that much time together alone. You both are always with us.”

Randall was tired of their ridiculous excuses when he knew the truth. “Why did I see Klaus laying in bed with you?” he accused. “You were kissing!”

“Randall, what have I told you about spying?”

Instead of listening to the lecture he knew was coming, Randall took off with both shoes on his feet at lightning speed. He did not want to deal with his sister's wrath at him for violating her privacy. It didn't seem like a big deal to him anyway. He left immediately when he saw their lips touch. Marcel laughed as he went to catch Randall.

Klaus couldn’t help but to observe Bonnie and admire her beauty, even in her anger. “They think we’re in love,” Klaus said with a laugh.

Bonnie sighed, “it sounds silly and imaginative.” As much as her body desired his touch, they couldn't ever be romantically involved.

“We couldn’t ever be in love.” Feelings would complicate things. It would be a mistake for them to create a family together. Mortality would always separate them. As witches, they could never find happiness as vampires. Marcel could choose to turn when he got older, but Klaus could not expect that of Bonnie and Randall. “That’s a boundary that shouldn’t be crossed.”

#bonnie bennett #klonnie #klaus mikaelson #the vampire diaries #tvd #bonnie x klaus #klaus x bonnie #the originals #klonnieweek2023 #Rikki tries writing