#dvaw text

religious/worship kink re: jacob trouba, in which he is getting worshipped

filip chytil using a fist (but being so nice and gentle about it) or edging incessantly

jacob instructs you to undress, then sits you down on the bed and runs his fingers through your hair. "i have a present for you tonight," he says, and you immediately wonder what kind of collar or lingerie or new toy might await you. "but you're sort of a present for him, too."

him. "who are you bringing over here?"

"you'll be good for my friend, won't you? i've told him all about what you can take." his hand drifts down to your thigh.

"i'm yours," you whisper, "to loan out however you want." you're wet already, having discussed this fantasy with jacob so many times, and now he's making it real. "of course i'll make you proud."

you know jacob's entire aim is to break you into little pieces before the night's over, but he basically achieves that the moment he opens the bedroom door and welcomes chris into the room.

you know chris. it is a little awkward being absolutely naked in front of him, and you are certain jacob set it up this way to purposely make you squirm.

jacob tells chris to sit with you, say hi, don't be shy-- and when chris doesn't know what to do with his hands, jacob starts to direct him.

it's jacob who physically puts you on your back and spreads your legs wide for chris, then tells him to put his mouth on you. he sits at the edge of the bed, his hands roaming your chest, shoving two fingers into your mouth as he tells chris just how to eat you.

chris, to no one's surprise, is a very fast learner.

and it becomes very evident, very quickly, that he absolutely needs to be in you-- but jacob tells him he has to make you come with his mouth first.

meanwhile your mouth is watering and you want nothing more than to have jacob down your throat so you can scream around his dick while chris makes you come, and he fucking knows it, you can see it in his eyes. he strips down and sets his dick on your face, teasing you, daring you, but you know better.

...but you're getting close, chris' beard rough on your most sensitive parts, and your brain shuts off and you take him into your mouth just as you finally come.

jacob pulls roughly out of your mouth. chris is scrambling out of his pants, unable to handle it anymore.

"give her more," jacob instructs, and you whimper; jacob holds you by the arms and chris' mouth hits you again and you thrash wildly against him at the overstimulation, but his strong hands hold your thighs in place and you know pleading won't do any good.

jacob leans down and kisses you tenderly as though you are not having a threesome with one of his best friends. "you need to earn my dick," he says, "or you can have his and that's it."

chris is writhing against the bed, desperately wanting.

earn it. you are so fucking inescapably jacob's that you operate almost in a daze, dropping to your knees and running your fingers reverently over his thighs. you kiss his body like a human lucky enough to encounter a god, head bowed. your lips brush his bruises as if you are saying give me the pain.

chris can't help but touch himself for a little bit of relief, but jacob stops him. "not until she gets to you," he says, and he's so fucking authoritative that chris simply obeys.

after what seems like forever, jacob takes you by the chin and tells you that's enough penance. you've earned it.

and you let out a breathless thank you before taking him into your mouth.

he allows you only a few minutes of what you want before he bends you over the bed to fuck you from behind, leaving your mouth open for chris.

"she'll take you all the way down her throat," jacob promises, rocking slowly against you from behind. "won't you?"

you're sizing up chris for the first time, and you want to kill jacob for making the promise, because he's so fucking big and you honestly have no idea how you're going to live up to it. but you'll certainly try.

jacob bends over your back to whisper in your ear. "that's it, princess. take it all. don't make me a liar."

using every trick you know, you manage it. "holy shit," chris is spluttering, hand on your head to steady himself, "fuck, no one has ever-- no one has--"

"told you," jacob says, and you can hear the satisfaction in his voice as he strokes your spine. "good girl."

and then it's chris' dick you're screaming around as jacob fucks you mercilessly, hips red from his fingers digging in, entering a trance as jacob commands you, that's it, come for me, come for me right now, and you know your body's not your own when it simply responds.

you think chris might climb a wall out of frustration. jacob slides out and leaves you there, bent over, cum sliding down your thigh, and sits on the bed.

"your turn," he says to chris. "got her a little stretched out for you."

when he gets in, you literally see stars. you grab fistfuls of the blanket beneath you, gritting your teeth in preparation.

"she can take it," jacob assures him. "do what you want."

and as he speeds up you are screaming. screaming. it hurts and it feels so goddamn good and jacob sits there, fingers stroking your face, your hair, that's it, princess, you'll take everything from him, won't you? you're such a good toy for my friends. you're so obedient. anything to make me proud. i'm so proud of you, the way you take that big dick of his, how you just wipe your tears and make it work. you're something special, princess. so glad you're mine. that's it, we're going to let him come right inside of you, won't we? do you want that? all his cum mixed up with mine inside that tight pussy of yours? does it make you feel dirty? nice and used? you'd do anything i asked, wouldn't you? that's right. because this body belongs to me and i can do whatever i want with it.

I want the hiker to be Mika.

The second he realizes it's Chris, I want him to pause and hide behind the thick trunk of a tree to make sure he's not seen

he's jealous. he's turned on. he's juggling several emotions and suddenly his pants are uncomfortably tight and

well he unzips them. just to adjust.

once his hand is on his dick he can't take it off.

you're bent over the chair, trying to muffle your cries; chris is holding you at the hip, his other hand reaching forward to play with a nipple. mika is transfixed. he can't help but imagine being there, in your place, desperately trying to stay silent with chris inside of him.

"chris," you gasp out.

chris, mika thinks, and he's nearing his own orgasm.

you clap your hand over your mouth and ride it out, shaking against him as you come again. your knees are weak by this point, you wonder if you can hang on until--

there's a loud snap. you and chris look up instantly to the hiking trail.

fuck, mika thinks. his hand is covered in his own cum and there's no way to zip up fast. he prays neither of you spot him, but of course he wore a bright red fucking t-shirt and--

"...mika?"

fuck.

you giggle. "this is what they mean by caught red-handed," you call out to him. you always fucking knew it.

mika is as red as his shirt. "i just-- i--"

chris looks at you and you nod so slightly that mika can't see. you sit down in the carpet of leaves, slinging your sweatshirt underneath you, catching your breath.

"come over here," chris tells him.

"i-- what?"

"she's tired. i'm not finished." his eyes were fixed on mika's dick. "i think you could help me with that."

you've never seen anyone climb a fence so fast.

he's on his knees the second he reaches the chair. chris sits and mika takes him into his mouth. you watch, realizing he's tasting you on chris, and the thought makes your body clench.

it doesn't take long for chris to finish, and mika swallows every last drop as though it were the most delicious thing he'd tasted in his life.

i think chris would be a brat simply because he is a problem causer by nature

i think he would love the game of hovering just a little too far back, so the tip of his tongue touches you but not all the way like you know it can

to goad you into grabbing his curls and pulling him into you

you see the little smirk he gets when you finally do pull his hair

he wanted it. the motherfucker.

so you just wind those curls around your fingers and make sure his nose doesn't separate from your skin until you come.

it's half in jest the first time in bed too: chris, ever the learner, pulls out a new trick and mika lets out a holy shit, what-- what are you--

and when chris decides to give him a break he pulls back for a moment, smiling up at mika. you like that, princess?

it's a callback to the joke but mika's thighs tense and his lips press together and chris knows. there's the tiniest bit of a triumphant smirk and a crinkle next to his eye before he goes back down

and it's only later, when he's deep inside of mika, face-to-face, that he brushes his hair from his forehead and leans down to his ear. that's it, princess, you always take me so well. chris takes his earlobe into his teeth. touch yourself. i want you to come with me inside.

mika obeys. he always does. and in his racing thoughts he's silently pleading with chris to say it again, just one more time, why is this doing it for him--

come on, he says, reading mika's face like a book, that's it, princess, come for me, and mika's body can never disobey chris

"I ordered Stuart Semple's Kleinish Blue paint to do it," you tell him. "An homage to your original inspiration. Just to be clear that this shade of blue is not to do with your former team."

He laughed. "There's just one problem with hanging this in my studio."

Your heart sank. "Yeah?"

"It's going to distract me. I'm going to see it and have to come find you immediately. It makes me want to find that spot."

You loop your arms around his neck playfully. "So find it."

You're wearing loose, flowy shorts, so when he puts you on the floor and pushes your feet into the air, his lips easily can reach it. As he so often does, he just keeps going, moving across your body until he's tugging fabric to the side, getting his tongue involved, drawing out sighs and little cries that are amplified in the sparse space.

ryan has you on that st. andrew's cross in the center of the club when she walks in and makes eye contact

you've seen her here before, once, dragging a solidly built man on a leash and making him kneel. this time she's on her own.

this time, she is dressed in a vinyl catsuit that leaves nothing to the imagination, her hair pulled up in a high ponytail.

she marches directly up to you. someone you don't know has their mouth on you and yana pulls him back by the hair. "leave," she says imperiously. though he is annoyed, the man senses she isn't to be argued with.

"you're so good for ryan," she coos into your ear, "and tonight you're going to be good for me."

your eyes find ryan, who is seated at the bar. he raises a glass in your direction, indicating this is going down exactly as it should.

"what's your name?" you ask, and she laughs.

"you'll have to earn that information."

her accent is beautiful. you want to listen to her speak to you all night; you pray she's a talker like ryan, not a quiet domme who wants to speak only with her flogger.

she slides three fingers into you. "first, let's see what that mouth can do for me. then..."

she switches into russian. you can understand a few words of what she says, but her accent is different from what you're used to and she's difficult to understand fully. you can sense the gist of what she's saying, as her fingers curl and her other hand lands a good slap across your face, but you're almost glad you can't comprehend her words. it's the best of both worlds. you know she has a plan and you get to hear her describe it. but you still have no fucking idea what's coming.

you pray to god she'll allow you to feel her lips on you. you pray she'll hit you across the face again-- but harder.

she takes you off the cross and grabs your pussy and leads you to one of the beds, where she strips off her catsuit and puts your face between her legs.

your fucking mouth waters. she smells incredible. you don't know if you're supposed to await further instruction but you can't stop your tongue from darting forward to get a little taste, and you whimper when you find she's already dripping wet.

"let me make you come," you beg. "please."